1996-03-17

Recovered original text · preserved verbatim

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NEVERWINTER NEWS
Issue # 125
Week Ending 3-17-96
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FRONT PAGE
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Congratulations to Veridienne for winning last week's News of the Realm
contest for the story "The Lady and the Wraith".

Veridienne has earned the choice of 4 Pearls or Access to the GOH (Guild of
Heroes).  Keep up the good work!  ;D

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Location Hunt Winner 3/12

LLewdoc found in the Westbridge dungeons (5,6) where the bag is that eminates
a magical aura. Clue was: You recognize the magical aura and drop the bag
before it harms you.

Llewdoc wins 4 pearls & 1 hour. Congrats to Llewdoc!

- Kregar

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Ice Storm Booth Winner - 3/11

In an effort to appease his boss, Vorpal decided to make a place for a new
snow sport that he had heard about from the lands north of Neverwinter called
skiing.(Whatever that is.) Knowing that he could not make the slope all by
himself, he decided to call upon the citizens of Neverwinter and whoever
helped him the most was to be rewarded.  Vorpal picked a spot in the
warehouse district for a slope, and the contest began.  Shandrel won with an
incredible amount of 48 inches of snow(4 pearls and one hour of free time for
her effort).  Vorpie would like to thank the following others for their help:
Sylphee, ABK Saint, Palamage, Xylina, NOR Keser, Sarilien, ERS GoBlue, Syren
Coal, Devin Tyr, Aarius, Queseraser, Damnd Kur, and Archwizo.  All helped
Vorpie try to appease his boss for all the things he supposedly did wrong.
Just remember.. Vorpie's an angel.

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March GoH Booth #1 Winner:

March GoH booth #1 saw the introduction of the "Drink of the Gods", a liquid
which is said to help Gods who walk upon the lands in mortal form to keep
their body fit.  Normal mortals who drink it will either outright freeze, or
take nervous system damage from the shock of such a drink.  This booth was to
see who could take the least damage.

Having to survive a hold person (representing the initial freeze) and a
lightning bolt (representing the nervous system damage--shock!), three GoHers
were in a tie from the first drink.  So off into a tie-breaker they went.

Neurosis, Mech Judas, and Sarilien tried their chances with fate once
again...with Mech Judas coming out the winner!

Congrats to Judas who shall gain 6 pearls :)

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Slay Living booth, 3/15, 8pm

I had a very bad case of Spring Fever and suspected it was catching!  I
called to the adventurer's of the realm to come try and resist my Spring
Fever Slay Living spells.  :D  The following adventurer were not allergic to
me and win 2 pearls each!

the bonze
sol shaman
sol lethal
tassleh0f
dryctor001
treltern
tcs xzaver
devin tir

--Sparkle  :D

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NEVERWINTER CALENDAR
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Keep an eye peeled for those Mini-Booths because they will appear when you
least expect in different areas of the Realms!

Can you be at the right place at the right time when the NW calls for a
location?

Keep your eyes and ears open for these events!   Watch for the banners!

New Player Tours:

Join the following staff members for a tour of the Realm:

March 17th Sunday  7:00 PM EST - with NWA Elwind.
March 20th Wednesday  11:00 PM EST - with NWA Slade.
March 23th Saturday  2:00 PM EST - with NWA Leto.

Those interested in any of these tours should keep an eye out for the banner
telling where to meet!  ;D

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Siege at Floodblest
(submitted by: Makmorg)
Interlude

In a massive cavern somewhere, deep under Faerun, Ilikial the dark mage was
poring over his spell book, intensively studying the magic symbols on the
pages with his rheumy gray eyes.  Every so often the outcast from Thay added
a word or rune to the large tome, his cockatrice quill pen easily skittering
across the pages.  Globes of light floated overhead illuminating the moist
kraken ink on the aged parchment but did little to enhance the pervading
gloom of the stony chamber.

The natural cavern was vast, a large cavity carved out by running waters
thousands of years ago.  Jagged stalactites, dripping with water and slime,
adorned the ceiling like vigilant bats and various ledges and outcroppings,
leading up to small, dark openings, crisscrossed the walls like petrified
welts on stone skin.  An outsider-whose dark allegiance had ensured that he
survived to see the world beyond the wizard's dark realm again-once observed
that a small army could occupy the cavern with some comfort yet the only
piece of furniture in the open space was a large, weathered, wooden table
cluttered with the wizard's spell book, scrolls, and miscellaneous spell
casting components.  The only other item in the cavern was a large portal of
silver and obsidian occupying the space before the wizard.

Running a hand through his gnarled brown hair Ilikial paused for a moment,
screwing up his face in concentration.  He searched for some lost bit of
knowledge in his head, his eyes focused on the portal before him, ominous in
the dim light, as if it were the key to its location.  A thought then struck
the wizard like bolt of energy and he went back to his tome, writing at a
furious pace now.

"Yes, this should work,"  He said excitedly to the book.  Ilikial sat back,
completely satisfied and licked his lips in anticipation.  The spell was near
completion.  Just a few more lines to assist in the control of the ambient
ley energies he would need for the manipulation of large matter over great
distances and the subsequent control of more intelligent minds then all would
be ready.  It would not do to scatter his cells over several dimension
because he rushed to complete this spell.

Up until now he had only been able to bring certain creatures through his
portal, mostly mindless beasts that were easy to control.  Bringing a herd of
griffons or a group of owlbears to the cavern posed little challenge to the
dark mage.  But what if he could summon larger, more intelligent creatures.
More powerful monsters.  A flight of wyverns, or a huge purple worm from far
off lands.  Or maybe even a dragon.  Yes, that would most definitely be
interesting!

With the spell he was completing Ilikial would soon be able to accomplish
that goal and summon monsters that would terrify the populace of the village
of Floodblest even more than the beasts summoned before.  Creatures which no
doubt would have little trouble laying waste to the hordes of adventurers who
have recently arrived in the small farming community like a swarm of
pestering ants.  Like annoying insects these heroes posed a threat to his
passion, to his livelihood.  It had not always been like this.

Several months ago the Zhentarim had approached Ilikial the dark mage in his
lair in exile from Thay and offered to help the evil sorcerer resume his
experiments.  He had been banished from Thay because of his work.  His
specialty was diseases, lab bred virulence that could be used to wipe out an
entire city in a few days time, although he had no great successes up until
then.  The agents of the Black Network had suggested Floodblest as a place to
for him begin again.  They had explained that the townsfolk, mostly farmers
and merchants, would make excellent test subjects, albeit unknowingly, for
his experiments.  In return all the agents of the Black Network had asked for
was that Ilikial use his magic portal, another of his specialties in demand,
to summon monsters to harass the citizens of Floodblest and kill any
outsiders.  Caring little for the reasoning behind the Zhentarim's request
Ilikial readily agreed, eager to resume the work with his precious
microscopic organisms.

The dark mage had not doubted at the time that the Zhentarim would demand
that he share the secrets of his experiments if he was successful in creating
the perfect, controllable plague.  He would have been a fool to think
otherwise but he had had no concerns about that.  He cared little for who
used his precious diseases, where, or for what purpose.  It was their effects
that excited him, entire cities devastated by his lab bred virulence, people
swept away like so much dust.  Ilikial never stopped dreaming of the day when
his lab bred plague would eradicate populaces in places like Waterdeep,
Cormyr, or even Thay.  Such god like power.  Now that would be interesting!

At the beginning it had been a simple matter to summon creatures through the
portal to comply with Zhentarim's request.  The rampaging monsters, easy to
control with simple mind spells, had attacked wandering villagers after
dark-in part to prevent the discovery of his lair-and reduced the populace of
Floodblest into a siege mentality.  The hungry monsters also had little
trouble destroying the few adventurers who made their way to the farming
village.

During this reign of terror the dark mage had resumed his experiments and had
achieved some small successes, adding to the citizen's misery.  Random
townsfolk easily succumbed to the small samples of diseases he released, with
little knowledge of its origin or source.  And not only did humans suffer but
livestock and crops also were affected by his deadly creations.  The local
clerics of Chauntea, a goddess of healing, were unable-or should he have said
unavailable-to stop his virulence.  With cruel irony he had set up a scenario
that the clerics would be unable to resist due to their good nature and
exposed the healers to his deadly pets.  The clerics had become deathly ill
thus removing another threat to Ilikial's work.  He was close to full stage
testing soon where he would spread his plague through the entire village.

Certain recent events, however, had changed everything for the dark mage.
The lord mayor of Floodblest had pleaded with Lord Nasher of the city of
Neverwinter for help and soon after a literal army of adventurers had flooded
into the farming community.  Even worse, these so called heroes were actually
beating back Ilikial's monstrous minions.  Although he felt secure in his
hidden lair, Ilikial had thought it prudent at that point to ask his Black
Network allies for assistance.

The Zhentarim, in their total ignorance, had sent him a platoon of bugbears.
The unit of hairy beasts had arrived in Floodblest undetected thanks to his
portal but he could not use the entire group without exposing himself.  The
sudden appearance of an small army would definitely raise questions.  Instead
Ilikial had been forced to use small units of bugbears to harass the citizens
of Floodblest and ambush adventurers.  His plan met with some limited success
but the surviving adventurers, along with the new arrivals, still remained a
threat.  Some had even managed to enters the tunnels to his lair!  Ilikial
knew that he had to do something soon or be forced to give up his work again.

Just when Ilikial thought matters couldn't become more complicated the
Zhentarim had sent him warning of the impending arrival of the hero
adventurer Makmorg, the so called Black Crossbow, in Floodblest.  For reasons
the dark mage would never be able to fathom this vigilante struck mortal
terror in the black hearts of the Zhentarim.  They were frightened enough to
dispatch Gladius, a cloud giant, to deal with him.  Even against his protest!
Ilikial knew the pompous windbag Gladius and did not look forward to dealing
with the arrogant cloud giant again.  He had no choice but to accept their
terms at that moment.  The dark mage would, however, set his own agenda in
motion before the giant's arrival.

Ilikial had decided that it was time to teach the people of Floodblest and
their so called saviors a lesson.  He would send a larger group of monsters
led by the bugbears to lay siege to the town in a storm of murder and mayhem.
His minions would kill all of the adventurers they came across.  No citizens
this time, the dark mage thought wickedly, just adventurers.  Ilikial wanted
to show the people of Floodblest the futility of their summons for help. And
if this person, the Black Crossbow, was killed in the havoc he was about to
unleash then so much the better.  To this effect he had already dispatched a
large group of owlbears to Floodblest. 

Should any of the surviving adventurers manage to locate his lair as a result
of his actions, Ilikial was more than confident that between the disease
glyphs at the entrance, and the roaming monsters in the caverns, including
the new creatures he would summon with his soon to be completed spell, the
few lucky cavern explorers would not survive even long enough to see him
gloat over his victory.

Ilikial realized the Zhentarim-not to mention the arrogant cloud giant-would
be angry with him for his insubordination and would probably try to take some
kind of punitive action against him.  By that time the dark mage would be
prepared to deal with his evil allies.  He was already tiring of their
arrangement.  Perhaps a summoned dragon could help him make his point.
Chuckling at the thought Ilikial put down his quill for the moment.  He had
to initiate his plan.

"Bargar!"  Ilikial shouted, his ragged voice echoing in the chamber, "I have
need of your services."

A few minutes passed, the wizard waiting patiently, before a large wooden
door at the opposite end of the cavern slowly opened on noisy hinges.
Through the egress entered one of the largest bugbears Ilikial ever knew of.
Bargar was tall and lanky, like other bugbears, but far more muscular than
most.  His entire form rippled with strength, his arms and legs thick and
corded with muscles.  Scars, from numerous fights to remain chief of his
clan, covered his fur covered body and one of his wedge shaped ears was
bitten off at the middle.  A large two handed sword hung off his belt
alongside the bones of previous opponents.

The huge bugbear crossed the distance to his master in a few strides and then
stood before Ilikial, the magic light reflecting off his plate chest piece.
The dark mage took a moment to admire the power of the bugbear chieftain.  He
then spoke.

"Bargar, I want you and your beastly men to gather up the remaining monsters
and launch a savage attack on the adventurers in Floodblest.  Kill as many as
you can.  I want them to learn the futility of their presence in town."

Bargar flashed a wicked grin at his master, rows of savage teeth filling his
smile, and nodded to his master.  Smiling at the bugbears's eagerness the
dark mage continued.  

"One more thing.  There is some individual in town who represent a direct
threat to me and my work.  His name is Makmorg the Black Crossbow.  According
to the Zhentarim, he carries an unusual crossbow and wears a black and brown
mercenary uniform.  Should you see him..."  Ilikial words trailed off.

Taking his cue, the massive bugbear whipped out the huge two handed sword,
the blade serrated at both sides, and finished his master's statement.

"Bargar will mash his bones!"

Smiling again Ilikial said, "Yes, that would be nice."  He then dismissed the
monster and turned back to his spell book.  Bargar lumbered off to carry out
his master's demands, the thought of crushing this Makmorg entertaining his
bestial brain.

Returning his focus to his new spell and his magic portal, Ilikial thought of
other creatures he could summon with the more powerful spell.  A flight of
dragons would help me make my demands, he mused.  Now that would definitely
be interesting.  He then started to laugh his raspy voice bouncing off the
cavern walls as he continued writing in his spell book with the cockatrice
feather.


Chapter 3

The Rankled Boar Inn was literally overflowing with adventurers from all over
Faerun upon our arrival but we were fortunate enough to get a room for the
evening.  Our little quintet quickly rented the room, stowed our gear away,
and took a few minutes to rest up a bit.  We then made our way to the main
hall and found ourselves a table, a great feat considering the number of
people dining and drinking.  We ordered the only meal available, mushroom
stew, and a pitcher of ale.  The innkeeper, a portly man wearing a stained
apron, had explained that because of the mysterious deaths of the livestock
and desiccation of the fields there was very little meat and vegetables
available in town.  All they had was mushroom stew.

Saralla, her eyes filled with sympathy, told the man, "Do not worry yourself.
The stew smells quite good." and paid him an extra silver piece.  I, for one,
was starved and would have eaten a wyvern's leg at that point.  The rest of
the group must have been of the same mind for after the innkeeper left
everyone dove into their wooden bowls lapping up the greasy stew voraciously.

After the somewhat satisfying meal-it didn't make us ill at least-Kayla the
elf and Kwarrel the halfling went off to talk to some adventurers they
recognized while Saralla and Rodrigo involved themselves in an animated
discussion over the cities they have visited in the Realm.  Keeping to myself
I propped my legs up on the table, nursed my ale, and entertained myself with
observing the people in the inn.  

The main hall was quite spacious, well lighted, and warm.  It consisted of a
large wooden bar occupying one side of the room and several tables, all of
them in use, scattered about.  A little used minstrel stage and a large stone
fireplace completed the main area.  Most of the sleeping rooms were upstairs
with some of the cheaper rooms out back near the stables.  There were about
thirty individuals congregating in the hall but I knew this did not represent
the entire adventurer population in Floodblest.  Some groups were still out
exploring the town, probably fighting roaming monsters.  

I recognized some of the adventuring guilds in the room.  The heroes of the
Keepers of Magic were here.  They were never far when there was evil to be
dealt with.  The Dwarven Stonebreakers were also present, a wily bunch of
adventurers who spent as much time drinking as they did in bar brawls.  Some
of the less reputable guilds were unfortunately visible as well.  The dark
mage infested Shadow Legion and thief ridden Black Daggers were among the
evil adventurers who were present.  Reflecting that all these humans, elves,
dwarves, and halflings were here for their own reasons and purposes I
wondered how would the village of Floodblest fare in the end with so many
conflicting ideologies and interests in this one room alone?  Would the
heroes be able work together to save this community?  Would the evil
adventurers make matters worse with their selfishness and greed?

Thinking of my own reasons for being in town I could only do everything
within my power to help the people of Floodblest and end their problems.
With allies like Saralla the cleric, Rodrigo the swordsman, Kayla the mage,
and even Kwarrel the thief, this was not an impossible goal.  And let the
evil adventurers try stand in our way.

My train of thought was suddenly interrupted by loud, boisterous voices.
Realizing what was happening I slapped a hand to my forehead and thought, by
Tyr, it must be that time again, time for an age old tradition which seem to
infiltrate every bar, tavern, and inn across Faerun.  It went by different
names but I personally liked to call it the Braggart's Hour.  

All around the room many adventurers were boasting, in their loudest voices,
of their supposed great deeds in the area, embellishing their tales with
death defying feats and overwhelming odds.  The braggart near me was a
grizzled female dwarf who appeared to have partaken in too much of the local
spirits.  

Pounding a ham sized fist to her chest she bellowed, "Hear me all!  I just
kilt me a whole buncha bearowls by myself before comin' here!"

"Don't you mean owlbears?"  A wiry elf ranger, challenged.

"Yeah, dem too!"  Responded the black haired dwarf nonplused. "And I didn't
even use mi axe, just mi own two hands!"

I felt Saralla eyes on me then and saw a frown marring her pretty ebony
features.  She must have realized that I would not be able to resist the
temptation to comment.  I must say, she certainly had good intuition.

Turning to the dwarf I said, "Well I suppose that's the only way to fight
owlbears."

Looking at me with an ale induced haze the female dwarf huffed and asked,
"What do ya mean, handsome?"

I grinned and said, "You fight them with bare hands."  Everyone within
earshot erupted in laughter but the comment was lost on the dwarf who just
stood there dumbfounded.  Only after had the laughter died down that the
dwarf started to giggle.

"I gits it now!"  She guffawed more loudly.  The female dwarf then promptly
passed out, her armor clad form landing on the floor in a loud jangle of
metal.  Her dwarven companions, none of which were any more sober than she
was, picked her off the floor and returned to their table.  I brought my
attention back to the table and saw Saralla shaking her head in
disappointment in my direction.  I was about to say something to the pretty
black woman when Rodrigo suddenly stood up.

"If you want to hear about owlbears, I can..."  He began but before he could
finish Saralla reached up and effortlessly pulled the swordsman back down to
his seat.  The cleric of Helm was also most certainly strong.

"Don't you start with the humor either."  She warned.  Rodrigo looked at me
with pleading eyes but I could only shrug my shoulders.

"Take my word and stay seated."  I suggested.  With a smile I added, "Stand
up humor is not her mug of ale."

Rodrigo laughed but Saralla only shook her head again in dismay.  

"I don't understand why everyone here is wasting their time with tall tales
and jokes when we should be pooling information about the town's problem."
She complained

"Need I remind everyone that we are here to help the people of Floodblest."
She continued. "Doesn't anyone care for these people?"

Before Rodrigo and I could respond another voice cut in.

"We would like to help."  The speaker was a young ranger, tall with coal
black hair.  He couldn't have been more than half my age.  Accompanying him
were two other males and two females, all of who looked about the same age as
the ranger.

"I don't mean to intrude on your conservation,"  he said sincerely, "but when
I overheard your comments I thought you might be interested in the
information we've gathered since arriving in town."

"By all means grab a seat," Rodrigo invited warmly.

"I'm glad to see someone is interested in doing some good instead of filling
their pockets with gold."  Saralla said.

The young heroes easily found chairs-those left unoccupied by drunken
patrons-and pulled up to our table.  They were introduced by the lanky
ranger.  

"My name Fox."  He started.  "These are my friends, Mort, Lander, Nira, and
Kel."  Each of the youths nodded at the mention of their names.

"We call ourselves the Party of Five."  He said with a grin.

Fox?  Party of Five?  There was something funny about that but I could not
quite remember why.  Before I could ponder it any further Saralla spoke,
quickly introducing our group and then launching into the matter at hand.

"Well Fox, what can you tell us about Floodblest's woes?"

With youthful eagerness Fox started his tirade.

"Well unlike the rest of these mooks we came to Floodblest to help out the
citizens.  As you already know monster attacks have made things pretty crazy
out here.  We ourselves ran into an owlbear on our first night in town but
managed to slay the mangy beast."

"One whole owlbear?"  Rodrigo queried with a grin.  A glare from Saralla,
however, quickly put the swordsman in his place.  "Ahem, of course, an
owlbear.  Please continue."

"Well then there's also the mysterious disease that have struck down some
people."  It was Nira, a cleric of Chauntea with light features and
strawberry blond hair, who spoke.

Fox nodded in acknowledgment and continued, "Right, but I'll get back to
that.  The first thing everybody wants to know is where are all these
monsters coming from.  We learned from some of Lord Nasher's guards back at
Neverwinter who used patrol the area that most of the monster lairs near by
had been cleared out years ago when the town was first settled and have not
been inhabited since.  They've verified this.

"And in the case of the bugbear attacks there no known tribes of any type of
goblinoids in the region."

This was interesting to learn.  If the monsters were not coming from lairs or
camps outside the town then where did they come from?  In answer to my
unspoken question Fox said, "We figured that the monsters must be coming from
somewhere inside the town itself."

"How's that possible?" Saralla asked.

With a sheepish look Lander, a strapping warrior with sandy brown hair,
answered, "Uh, we haven't been able to determine that yet."  

"But it the only thing that makes sense."  Fox interjected.  "How does a
large group of monsters go unnoticed in this area?"

"And I'm sure we'll find out where they're coming from soon enough!"  He
added enthusiastically.  I looked at the young ranger and marveled at his
display of youthful bravado.  Did he realized the stakes involved?  One
owlbear was one thing but could this group of obviously inexperienced
adventurers handle the legion of monsters that were out there?  Was I ever
this eager to die when I was his age?  I shook my sadly-these were the sign
of the times when even youths were forced to fight for survival-and prayed to
Tyr to watch over the Party of Five.  I have seen too many innocent lives
snuffed out in their prime and would mourn the loss of this group of young
heroes.

Coming out of my reverie I listened intently to the rest of the conversation.

"What else have you learned?" asked Rodrigo.

Mort, a freckle faced mage, said, "Well, we learned from some of the
townsfolk that a few days before all the trouble started a mysterious
stranger showed up in town but promptly disappeared.  No one ever saw him
leave town and it's hard not to notice anyone's business in a community this
small."

Kel, a half elf thief, continued the tale.  "The problems started right about
then.  First the livestock die off and then the crops withered away.  Soon
the monsters show up to cause trouble.  Then people started getting sick
including the Lord Mayor's son."

"The Lord Mayor's son?" I asked.  My interest for some reason was piqued by
that last statement.

"Yeah," answered Fox, "He's a cleric of Chauntea and went to investigate why
the local well dried up but he returned seriously ill and now lies near
death."

"The well dried up?"

"Yeah, right about when the stranger disappeared."  Fox replied.

A thought occured to me.  "Has anyone else been to the well?"  I asked.

Fox searched his head for an answer but it was Nira who responded  "Some
other folks, including all of the remaining clerics of Chauntea, have been by
the well but have all become ill.  No one wants to go by there anymore.  They
beleive it's cursed like the rest of the town."

"What about any adventurers?," I then asked.

Kel answered.  "You know thinking about it now I've heard from other
adventurers that some groups went out to the well but for the most part have
not been heard from again.  Most of us thought that they probably succumbed
to the disease and left town to find some kind of cure."

At this point, Saralla and Rodrigo looked at me perplexed, not understanding
my line of questioning.

"The monsters are coming from somewhere underground!"  I said in response to
their silent questions.

"How did you come to that conclusion,"  Asked Fox.

"Easy, my young friend," I explained, "Whoever is behind this, possibly your
mysterious visitor, has purposely emptied the well and infested it with
disease to keep away people.  The well must lead to a natural underground
water supply."

"And therefore could lead to a series of natural caverns carved out by
running water under this town!"  Rodrigo exclaimed.

"Caverns that could easily house an army of creatures!"  Finished Saralla.

"Right!," I said, "The adventurers who went out to the well probably found
the entrance to these caverns."

"But never made it out alive."  Saralla concluded grimly.

"That's real sad," reflected Nira, the cleric of Chauntea.  "You know this
use to be a real nice town, a place where you could raise a family."

"Sure, if you don't mind an owlbear as a house pet."  I said.

At that moment Saralla slammed her hands at the table and looked at me
angrily.

"Must you take everything so lightly?"  She growled.

For a fraction of a second an answer came to my mind.  I saw myself telling
the cleric of Helm that humor was the only way for me to deal with the gut
wrenching pain I lived with everyday of my life since losing my wife and two
beautiful daughters.  I would also tell her that I lived with the constant
fear that the emptiness I felt would be filled by the blood lust that was
once part of my nature, a very long time ago.  I would then finish by telling
her that my past was something I would not relive again, even at the expense
of my own life.  Then the second was over and I simply looked up at Saralla,
smiled and said, "If I took everything darkly no one would be able to see my
sense of humor."

Saralla threw up her hands in frustration and angrily stomped away from the
table.  A tense silence found it way to our group.

Breaking the tension Rodrigo, no longer smiling for once, said, "Mak maybe
you should go talk to her."

Through gritted teeth I replied, "Later, we have more important things to
worry about than a cleric's hurt feelings."  Rodrigo was taken aback by my
serious nature and it was obvious that Fox and his young friends were made
uncomfortable by the drama being played out.  

But before any more words could be exchanged a doorin the main hall flew open
and a bloodied cleric of Tyr stumbled in.  

"The town is under siege!" He cried, "Bugbears, lizards, griffons are all
over the place.  They're slaughtering us!"  He then fell to floor.  Someone
attended to the wounded cleric while the rest of the adventureres exploded in
action.  Everyone in the hall grabbed their weapons and gear and rushed
outside to fight against the invaders.  The siege of Floodblest had begun.

Rodrigo and I stood up.  I saw Saralla already on her way out.  She must have
grabbed her weapon and shield from the room.  Kwarrel and Kayla rejoined us
then carrying mine and Rodrigo's weapons.  

"Come on guys," Kayla cried throwing me my crossbow, "There's a town to
save!"  She then ran off followed by Rodrigo and Kwarrel.  I unfurled my
fully loaded weapon and went to join them but I noticed that the heroes of
the Party of Five were hesistant in their movements.  A look of apprehension
had crossed all of their youthful faces.  I realized that these young heroes
had probably never faced a situation like this before, a full scale battle
where there was the distinct possibility that one or more of them could lose
their life.  

Thinking of some words of encouragement I said, "Come on, my young friends.
Now is not the time to let fear get the best of you.  Now is the time for you
to do what these other heroes will do."

"And what's that?"  Nira asked, a tinge of nervousness creeping into her
voice.

With a smile I said, "Go out and siege the day."

::to be continued::Prelude to a Kiss
(submitted by: V Bastion)

          Sebastion was unhappy, a long life of adventuring, fighting and
loving had become somewhat boring to him.   He wished for something more but
knew not what it was.   He was well-to-do but money could not buy him what he
wanted.   He was talented in the art of the written word, but writing stories
about it could not make it come to pass.   He was a collector of rare art,
but nowhere could he find in a hidden collection what he sought.

        He knew that he was not happy, but he knew not what would appease his
soul.   One night in the city of NeverWinter, he met a stranger, a lone man
with an air about him of Nobility, it was nothing in his dress, which was
severe and all black, but with the manner in which he carried himself.
Without preamble, the stranger walked up and seated himself.   Bass started
to speak to him, but was interrupted by this man raising one hand.

        "I know of you, I have been watching you for a long time and I feel
that the time to approach you is at hand.    You have been unhappy as of late
and I believe I can assist you in your quest."

        Saying nothing, Bass sat unmoving, enthralled by this strangers
knowledge of him.

        " I know of one who is looking for one of your talents, and she would
like very much to speak to you.   She can offer you what I cannot, the answer
to your questions and an eternity to perfect your arts."

        "Eternity?"  Bass asked, "How is this possible?" One hand started to
reach for his coin purse, fearing that this may be a prelude to a robbery.
"I am interested, but I would know more of this."

         Getting up, the stranger motioned for Bass to follow him.   Still
wary of an ambush, Bass left one hand on his sword hilt as they left the inn
and as they walked the deserted streets.  All at once, the stranger turned
and his eyes were a feral yellow, Bass was taken aback, but could not tear
his eyes away....

         Falling... Losing all feeling, all senses but the sight of those
eyes,  Bass knew that any thoughts of being robbed were now the least of his
worries.

        Words, quiet words which cut through his brain and demanded a
response without allowing any deception.   The answers he gave were not
remembered, but the final statements before Bass lost consciousness were to
be etched in his mind forever:

        "The answers you gave are good, the Lady Nitengale will be pleased
with me.  I wish but that you were a bit more unbalanced, then I might even
take you for my own child.  But I cannot.   The Malkavians are a bit more
picky about who they take.  You are too clear a thinker for us, but the
Toreador are always looking for artists.   I will send a letter in your name,
perhaps she will respond, perhaps not.  But if you remember any of this, be
warned... You and any you tell of this will be destroyed.    I will be
watching...."  At that point, Bass lost the battle and slid into oblivion.

           He awoke in his own bed the next morning, his trial of the night
before like a half remembered dream, but the admonishment to stay silent was
too real.   He decided to hold his tongue and wait to see what would happen.

          For days nothing happened.  And after a while Bass started to
believe that it had  all been a dream, then something happened one evening
upon returning to his mansion, awaiting him on his doorstep was a Hunter
Green envelope.   Stooping to pick it up, a hint of lavender reaches his
nose.  On the front of the letter was his own name, written in flowing
cursive letters.   The smell of lavender came from the letter.

          Opening his door, he walked past his Major Domo, Gaylar and said,
"Be sure no one disturbs me this eve..."    Gaylar watched as Bass went to
his study.

          It was not unlike him to spend many evenings secluded away with a
new piece of art, examining it in detail, or writing stories for his friends,
so nothing untoward was thought of his order.  Gaylar returned to his
business without another thought.

          When the Lamps were lit and he was ready, Bass opened the Letter
and read:

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Dear Sir,

     I am known as the Lady Nitengale, the Toreador Clan Elder.   I just
received a letter from V KurtMoff in which he writes of your desires to
become one of the undead.  I am intrigued by your answers to KurtMoff, for in
my Clan, we look for artists and place no emphasis on fighting others.  I
have but one question for you.... art thou an artist?  Toreadors as you may
know, consist of artists of all kinds, the arts can range from a seductress
to a collector of rare items.   However it is those who share the passion for
beauty that I share the gift with.  As I said, your answers did grab my
interest, and I hope to receive another from you soon.

Love throughout eternity,
Lady Nitengale
Toreador Elder
3rd Generation Antediluvian

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

        Tossing and turning in bed, Sebastion, (Known to his friends as Bass)
decides to forgo his attempt at sleep.  It would not come in any event, now
that his life had been expanded by the letter....  The letter, which he has
not been able to put aside in his mind for more than a few moments.  Not even
in the refuge of sleep was he safe from its prying and twisting of his mind.
Rising from his sweat soaked sheets, not bothering to cover his nakedness, he
walks to the window and looks out over the city.  The comings and goings of
the people of the night used to be beneath his notice, but now....

        The Dream begins to come to him, even now when he was awake.  Shaking
his head to clear it and taking a deep breath.... wait...   Was that a hint
of.... Yes, Lavender.... bringing his mind back to the letter.

        Moving swiftly and with purpose, he goes to his desk, opens it and
gathers the writing materials he needs.  Moving to the open window, he sits
on the floor and writes on the sill in the light of the nearly full moon.
Again taking up the Hunter Green envelope, he breaths in the scent and his
thoughts are quickly arranged.   In a great flowing script, he writes:

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

             Lady Nitengale,

       I received your letter, and I wish to thank you for responding to me.
I must say that two nights ago, all the talk of Vampires and Children of the
Night seemed to me to be nothing more than stories to frighten small children
and those of weak minds.  I thought that those that I heard of calling
themselves "Vampires" were nothing more than another of the many street gangs
which sulk the streets to carve out their own small niche in our society.   I
now know that I was in error.  You are much more than you seem, but yet still
much less than some of the stories make you out to be.  I see from your
letter that you are not evil, how can you be when you have an appreciation of
the beauty in our world.  Evil cannot see the beauty in our world, because
they have no appreciation for truth.  It has been said, "In truth there is
beauty, in beauty, truth".

       I have for all my life searched for both beauty and truth.   I have
done many things in my life.  I have been a writer, a warrior, a smith, and
numerous other things to greater or lesser degrees.  In all these things I
attempted to find the ultimate truth to it.  To write the perfect sonnet, to
develop the best tactic, to forge the finest blade.  I always came up short
of my desires, until you wrote to me.  I now see that in you there is the
perfection I have always sought.  You have it all, beauty, power, and eternal
life to perfect your arts.  I have given up on my different "arts" because I
could not bear to see my life slip away while chasing the perfection I
craved, without being able to attain it.

           But now you have given me hope, if you bring me across to you
existence, then I will have time to do those things which I wish, and have
eternity to perfect them.

          I want to thank you for opening my eyes to the possibilities which
are before me.  I have not at this time made up my mind if I will seek out
the Embrace from you at this time, I am leaning towards you, but this is a
great decision, and I must take the time to make sure I am doing the right
thing.  I will make my decision and get back to you by the end of the week.
I would like to continue a dialog with you in any case, and your friends
admonishment to keep your existence secret h as not been wasted upon me, if
you decide to not contact me again, I assure you that nobody will hear of
your existence from me.

          I await a response from you,

                      Bass

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

        Sprinkling sand on the letter to dry the still wet ink, thoughts race
through Bass' mind.  Did I do right?  Should I have told her to await  MY
convenience?  Will I be denied my chance do to my arrogance?  Will I be
killed if I do not accept her offer?

        So many questions ran through his mind as he placed the now dry
letter in an envelope, then another question occurred to him.  How was he to
deliver the letter?  He had no idea, then he noticed a shadowy form enter
from the open window.  It seemed to hesitate in front of Bass for a moment
until Bass set down the letter in front of it.  As he did, it retrieved the
missive and disappeared into the night.

        Returning to his now cold bed, Bass lay down to sleep and allow the
dream to take him where it may...


---------------------------------------------------------------------------The
Bumbling Knight
(submitted by: Golfdsl)

There once was a bumbling knight, the lowliest of them all
He supervised the king's stables and kept watch on the stalls
When other knights were abroad on missions of glory and fame
He could be found shoveling crap and cursing his captain's name

One day the king did send him forth on a mission he could handle
"You there, what's your name, go fetch some beeswax candles"
Well at the market, in the crowd, he did stumble, slip, and totter
But fate then smiled on the sap for he bumped the merchants daughter

She was a woman kind and fair with intelligence and grace
Her laughter was a joy to hear and her smile lit up her face
She turned to chide the clumsy knight and that was her mistake
For while he was not bright at all, he was a handsome rake

Well from that day they were a pair and soon they planned to marry
Her father though was a perceptive man and nearly had a coronary
"Before I consent to your marrying this fool he must pass some simple tests"
"To prove his worth to have your hand he must complete three easy quests"

"He must bring me a demon's eye, a dragon he must slay"
"He must lead the king's knights in battle, and they must win the day"
With this he hoped to rid his daughter of one obnoxious worm
But, before the knight could turn to flee, his daughter accepted the terms!

For unbeknownst to either man she had an ace in hand
A precious, unused genie bottle come to her from a far land
"Three quests, three wishes, a fortunate match," to herself she said
"I'll help you out my bumbling knight and then we shall be wed"

Well when the knight sat down to eat and attacked a chicken pie
He choked, sputtered, turned blue, then spat out a demon's eye!
Then as he took a lonely walk to ponder his good luck
A dragon fell down from the sky and nearly crushed the schmuck!

The king took notice and sent the knight to a highly prestigious post
Smack dab in front of the elite guard, his finest battle host
No sooner had he took this job than a swarm of orcs attacked
The kingdom soldiers were outmanned, and slowly were pushed back

The final battle came too soon, the king he was at bay
On a lonely hilltop surrounded, he made his last desperate play
He gathered his elite host and told a short, sad, story
"I fear the battle lost my lads, time now to die with glory"

So with no hope the guard did charge the orc king's own formation
When suddenly the bumbling knight went through a strange alteration
No longer was he a cowardly fool who had obviously wet his pants
A mighty warrior was charging now and death rode on his lance

The orcs were stricken, quailed and fled, and easily were hewn down
While the kingdom men were heartened, and soon had the orc king's crown
Ever after that day was remembered for the glorious battle won
And the king embraced the bumbling knight and treated him as a son

The merchants daughter was overjoyed for the wedding could now take place
But a messenger brought a letter that erased the smile from her face
"So long my dear, its been fun, but I have a new station in life"
"You wont be seeing much of me anymore, the kings daughter will soon be my
wife"

This could have been the end of the tale if it wasn't for a fortunate chance
The friendly genie was still around and took pity on the daughter's
circumstance
"I dont do this often," he told the girl, but I think I'll give you a freebie
And from that day onward the bumbling knight was known by the nickname of
peewee
Great Expectations
(submitted by: V Strange1)

     It had only take me a few minutes to get from NeverWinter square to my
haven.  I had walked faster than usual, all the while asking myself why,
knowing that once I got to my haven, I'd only put my elbows on the kitchen
table and stew over the man I only knew as NW Baldor.  He worked for Lord
Nasher and I'd seen him in the square every Monday and Thursday for the last
couple of weeks.

     I would then ask myself if I had gone out of my mind.  Things had moved
too fast.  I had seen the handsome creature only a few times, but I had never
felt like this in my life or my unlife.  I was in love.

     It wasn't because I wasn't used to looking at handsome men.  But now I
was saying to myself, "How many days am I going to sit in the square watching
him without saying anything to him?  He looked at me today and smiled, so I
know he noticed me."  Another thing I had noticed, this mortal didn't seem to
be married.

     It would be quite a few days now before I saw him again, today being
Tuesday.  There were still 2 days until I would see him again.  My thoughts
were interrupted by my manservant, Scott, the newest addition to my haven.
He was a sturdy, quiet sort of fellow who did his job well, but he had always
felt he could speak his mind openly when it came to my personal affairs.  "I
see you have been to the square again.  Why do you do this to yourself?"  I
glared at him for a moment, then sunk my head in my hands and weakly replied,
"I don't know what it is."  How could I tell him that I had become obsessed
overnight with a man I knew practically nothing about?

     The days flew by as Thursday approached.  I drew in a long breath,
realizing I was late for his shift in the square.  I hurried toward the
square and realized I was indead too late.  A throng of folks already
surrounded his manly figure as he patiently answered all thier questions.
Rain had started to stream down my face as I realized I was doomed to once
again stand and watch him turn his attentions to everyone else but me.  Just
then, one of his friends was standing next to me, watching my emotions play
across my face like a theatrical production.  "So, yet another wench has
fallen for the charms of Baldor, eh?"  He shook his head in pity for me as I
turned to face him.  "And what business is it of yours?  Unless you offer me
help and hope, I suggest you take your observations somewhere else and leave
me to my torture."

     "No need to get defensive, lass, I merely offer to break the ice
somewhat.  Would you care to accompany me closer, perhaps for an
introduction?"  My heart leaped at the possibility of coming face to face
with that exquisite creature and having his manly voice caress my ears.
"Yes, but why should you care if I am 'Yet another' who finds him
captivating?"

     "I have watched you these long weeks, watching you swoon from afar like
a love-struck puppy.  Yet I feel you are different from the others."   With
that he took my hand in his and led me into the throng surrounding Baldor.
My insides knotted up as he finally turned his attention our way.  He flashed
a brilliant smile in recognition of his friend then turned his gaze on me.  I
felt the world spin and grow dark.  I was falling, falling into oblivion.
Next thing I knew, as my  eyes fluttered open, I was practically nose to nose
with the  object of my desire.  It appeared I had fainted at the close
proximity and possibility of meeting him and he had caught me.  As I lay in
his arms, he brushed the hair back off of my forehead, a look of concern on
his face.  "Are you ok, Strange?"  I gasped in shock as my name rolled from
his lips.  He knew my name!  I gathered my composure and meekly answered that
I was fine. "But," I whispered bravely, "if I stay in your arms I will not be
responsible for my actions."  With that said, I found my feet and stepped out
of that heavenly embrace.

                    TO BE CONTINUED(submitted by: Capybarra)

                                                 THE RETURN OF THE WOLF

Capy awoke to the sounds of howling.  She pulled the quilt closer about her,
shivering, lying on the hard bed, and listened.  

The howling seemed almost incessant.

Wind.  Wolves.  They were howling.  There was also a snarling, a growling,
and scuffling noises.  Then scratching.

Rain on the roof.  She listened to the rhythmic sounds, breathing slowly.
For some reason she was suddenly afraid.  She opened her eyes and looked at
the wall.  Why so dusty?  Why was it so cold?  Something was wrong perhaps?  

"Celaborn?" she asked, listening for his breathing.  She turned over and felt
for him.  He wasn't there.  Suddenly she sat straight up in bed and stared
about her, trying to see in the gloom of the cottage.  Things were
unfamiliar.  She felt strange.  She lit a candle and looked around. Things
were different.  The cottage was dusty, empty.  Only a few of their
possessions remained.  What was going on?  

She reached down to the floor beside her and picked up a voluminous black
dress.  As long as she could remember, she had only worn yellow.  Why black?
She pulled it on, noticing the folds were actually necessary considering her
curves.  When had she lost her slender figure?  

She slipped on her boots and picked up her gear.  She had a strong feeling of
not belonging here.  A single peacock feather lay on the table next to the
bed.  She wrapped it up carefully and put it in her bag.   She picked up the
shield by the door and examined it.  It bore the mark of KORT, an emblem she
recognized from her husband and his brothers.  But this shield was smaller
than his, it had the look of being made for her.  As she put it on she felt a
slight pang in her stomach.  Rubbing her hands there, she felt a movement.
So many questions... she had to find someone.

She rushed out the door, feeling relief as she fled the empty house.  The
wind whipped at her, the cold bit into her.  It was then that she saw it, the
dark shape blocking the path.  She could just determine from the poise that
it was a wolf.  She felt for her flail but the wolf was behaving strangely,
so she stopped and watched.  

The wolf just stood there.  Suddenly, deep within her, a voice spoke, small
and afraid.  "Timid One, Berry-Eater, you have returned?"  

Capy looked around.  There was no one but her and the wolf.  As her eyes
accustomed to the light, she saw that those yellow eyes were staring into
hers with recognition.  She looked at the wolf's huge shape in wonder.  The
hair had deepened from silver to black, but it could well be her.  "Clio,"
she whispered, falling to her knees.  The wolf puppy she had lost, so long
ago.

The wolf came and licked her face.  Again, she felt the voice in her mind.
"You left me.  And he who gave you the blood of the dragon."  The wolf
nuzzled her silver hair.  "I remember the change."  Capy's silver eyes stared
into the yellow eyes of the wolf, as she remembered tasting Celaborn's blood,
the sudden rush of strength within her as the dragon blood of Celaborn's
brother Forcerun entered her body, and then the metamorphosis.

"He left also.  I have stayed here in the forest near.  Twice I felt his
presence, three times I felt yours.  But when I came, you were gone."  Clio's
eyes looked into hers balefully.  The howling drew nearer, nearer.  

"Are you with them?" Capy whispered, hearing the pack growing closer, holding
Clio tight.

"No, I am not.  They say I am tainted," those yellow eyes staring into hers,
seriously, made her want to cry.  "Where have you been?  And where has he
been?  I waited."

"I do not know," Capy stared, then jumped as she heard a growl nearby.
Another wolf jumped into the clearing.  A snarl.  Then blackness.

Capy sat up suddenly in bed and looked around the room, taking in the
tapestries on the wall, the down quilt, the rich furnishings, sunlight
pouring in the window.  The dream.  So vivid.  So real.  But she was safe in
Camelot.

On a hill, a she-wolf sat, looking down on the castle.  One of them was
within.  Her.  She would wait for her, she would find her again, and then she
would discover why they had left, and where he was.

Capybarra
Lady of the Round Table
Knight-ErrantA History of the Founding of the Vishnyac Empire
(submitted by: Kraidion)

     A lone man marched across the wooden bridge leading to the city of
Vishnyac.  As a small farming village Vishnyac had withered with the crops,
this past summer. Its fealty to the sage Macoza prevented it from trying to
trade for food. Macoza had always thought of Vishnyac as his most troublesome
fiefdom and was helping it's starvation. It was he, Marcoza, who was going to
Vishnyac, Despite the fact that the village should be ready to tear him
apart.

     But as soon as he arrived, the villagers ran for their doorways. All
save Two, A short, red haired woman wearing red rags turned brown with dirt,
and the other, a man. Marcoza turned to face the woman.

  " Erma Vile, the village troublemaker. Come for a quick, easy death, rather
... Hey! who's that?" the dark sage asked, just seeing the man for the first
time.

   " You won't... Hey who is that? A demon! You've summoned a demon. You'll
die for this, Wizard!"

   " It is one of your gods! I don't believe it ! You would dare ask the
clerics for aid against me?"

    The man struggled towards Erma. "hey. Where am I?" Erma quickly drew her
sword and backed away.

    Marcoza took this opportunity to cast a firebolt. It dipped straight
between the man's legs and slammed into a water trough next to the general
store. Water splashed everywhere, and the steam made it appear as though the
entire town had exploded.

     "Call him off!" Marcoza shouted as he ran towards Erma. "He's going to
destroy my town!" He started to screech, clutching a scold mark on his face.
"CALL him OFFFFF!"

   "You call him off! He's obviously one of your demons which has gotten out
of control. We'll have to work together to drive him off."

    "What can you do against a demon?"

    "I can use the fangs I took from your pet before I killed him!" She
answered, throwing down her soaked headband.  

   "You killed Grodredr! My pet Hellhound? I should kill you!"

     "Help!" the man said, as he rose from the pit of mud which had formed
under him.

     "He's changed into an earth golem. We've got to banish him now!"

     "You get him to face the sun, then I'll focus the light to bake him.
Then you can finish him off."

      Erma ran up to the man and plunged her sword at  his feet, but it came
away covered in mud, not blood. Her next stoke drew blood, however, and the
man started to limp away, into the sun covered horizon. Marcoza raised his
skull tipped staff towards the sun, and the light glittering on his black and
silver robes began to converge on the mud soaked man. Within seconds he was
covered in hard clay.

     Erma raises a giant black tooth from her belt and split the mound of
clay at its torso, to reveal an empty cavity, shaped like a man. Erma stood
dumbfounded. After a few minutes Marcoza spoke.

     "Where a demon dies, the grasses rise. With Grodredr and the demon dead
your crops should flourish. I leave you to organize their harvest, regent."

     " I? Be your regent?"

     "Certainly. I know you've been homeless so long ... And of course you
would be free to take any one of your serfs houses, or any of their other
possessions..."

     "Don't do it, Erma! You said you were going to free us." One of the
villagers, a small girl, had come out to see if the demon was gone. Instead,
she found Erma and Marcoza.

    Wellllllll" Erma said. She remembered all her cold winter nights. To
never see winter nights again." Oh......I must! I will be your regent. My
lord." 

     "Then I shall be leaving. Farewell."

     "You!" Marcoza heard as he walked. "Get to work on that trough. And you!
Check the horses..."

     The man, Bane, staring up at Vishnyac from the underworld and laughed.
Then he saw the little girl, and he frowned.

     "Well?" the boy asked.

     "Skuldiers, just like I thought."his sister ansered

     "Real,live skuldiers!I've got to see this!"

     The boy peaked his head out of the alley just enouph to see the six men
marching down the dark srteet. They were covered head to foot in black
platemail with silver skulls painted on the helmets and breastplates.Each
held a glowing trident said to be gifted them from the god Bane himself. And,
most fearsome, each held a shield on wich was painted the dreaded Imperial
coat of arms, a picture of an iron golem under a crossed sword and skull
tipped staff, and boardered by stylized lightning.

     The six skuldiers stopped and surrounded a patch of steaming street.

     "What are they doing?" the girl, erma, asked.

     "I dont know, you want me to go up and ask them?"Rodney ansered. Both
the boy, Frank, and his sister, twirled around to see Rodney sitting behind
him, a knife open in his hands..

     Rodney peered out and saw the skuldiers help a small gnoll out of the
sewer grate. Rather then putting it down, they instead held it up, like some
kind of prize.

     "This is the gnoll we were sent to get. Now, stirge brain, tell me what
you learned from the temple of Tyr! where is the sword of Bane? Do they have
it?"

     "Me no know no Temple. No sword!"

     "I see. Lord Vishnyac will make you talk!"

    That gnoll, Rodney decided, was to valuable to be left with ignorant
skuldiers. It was his responsibility to see that gnolls didnt get a raw
deal.Suddenly, Frank sneezed. The skuldier captain, still holding the gnoll,
raised his pack of poisoned darts and ran towards the sound, When a white
cloaked man dropped down from the rooftop above and drew his sword. The
skuldier dropped his darts, raised his trident , and parried. The clang of
steat was not two inches from Rodney's dirty, blond haired head. The skuldier
dropped the gnoll and grabbed Rodney, using him as a shield.

     "One step and I kill him!"

     "You do my job for me!" the white cloaked man shouted.and ran
foward.Then, just as a the skuldier raised his trident, the man stopped.

     "Ah, but I thought you sai..."

     Before the man could finish, the white cloaked man had kicked the pack
of darts right into the the skuldiers helmeted but unmasked face. As Frank,
Erma, and the gnoll watched, the man walked up to the writhing skuldier and
calmly beheaded him. Then without a second though, he raised his sword and
prepared to strike down Rodney..

To Be Continued(submitted by: Garthlik)
Thief - Part 3
"The Search"
by Garthlik One Eye

    The snow was still falling as I left the training school.  Not as hard as
it had earlier, but it was still snowing.  I made my way through the streets
to the Red Mage Inn.  Still trying to sort my life out, I entered the inn,
shook off the cold and found a seat near the fire.

     As usual, trouble found it's way to my table in the local bully.  We
settled our differences rather noisily, and I sat down to enjoy my meal and
ale.  The tale of this encounter appears to have been told by another
already, so I will dispense with the details of the encounter.

     A face, after so many years, appears out of the shadows.  Tall, ranger
clad, the eyes, Lake Mist, the boy I had run into so many years ago in a
village that had lain along my path.  He has grown, a tall man now, and it
appears that he has healed some of his old wounds.  We enjoyed tales and ale
till earlier morning, and then retired to our rooms.  I was up early, and
left for Southwall before all had risen.  If Lake Mist has been able to heal
his wounds, maybe I too can find the cure I also need.

     As I near the gate, a guard stops me and says "Be careful, this gate
leads to Southwall, and there are monsters there."   As I enter Southwall I
notice a strange quiet about the people here, as if they mistrust everyone
and everything.  If what Lord Nasher said is true, I will have to search for
that thieves den quickly.  As I move along the street, I cross a small bridge
over a shallow, foul smelling canal that must have once been part of the
city's defenses.

     Up ahead I see a street off to the right.  I turn down this street and
as I near the second door on the right, I hear voices from within.  It
doesn't appear to be a residence and the door is ajar, so I enter hoping to
get directions for this area.  What I find is four thieves, plotting some
sort of mischief.  Before I can say a word, they attack.  If I can only
capture one, maybe I can cut my work short.   It is not to be, as they fight
to the death, taking their secret with them.

     As I leave the door I entered, I turn right and continue along the
street to another door.  I enter and find yet another door.  This one leads
to a bigger chamber and smells of gnolls.  Carefully moving around the room,
I find a hidden door in the north-west corner.  Slowly pushing the door open,
I enter a passageway.  The floor slants downwards sharply towards the north.
As I continue I notice green, foul smelling water dripping from the ceiling.
I must be passing under the canal.  The passage starts to slant steeply
upwards now, and just as I spy a door, two crocodiles attack.  They're fast,
but not fast enough this day.

     I open the door and step into a swarm of eight kobolds and a minotaur.
The kobolds slash with their swords and the minotaur attacks with his battle
axe.  It is not easy to dispatch this crowd, but I finally accomplish the
task.  As I look around, I notice that the minotaur had been carrying an
enchanted battle axe +1.  I don't need it, so I leave it lay.  A quick lunch,
then I leave this chamber.

     Going back the way I had entered, I find myself back in the big chamber.
A quick look around reveals nothing else, so I make my way back to the
street.  I turn right and notice another street to the right.  Following
this, I run into a swarm of blood suckers.  Pesky and quick, but easily
swatted.  This street twists around to the street I was just on.  There is a
chamber to my left, but it is empty.  I turn right back into the street and
spy a door on my right.  Entering, I see a larger chamber just ahead of the
hallway I am standing in.  In the south-east corner a door that leads into a
smaller chamber.  Inside this chamber, another door that leads into yet
another chamber, filled with death.  Skeletons dancing around and slashing
with swords.  I find it difficult to kill what is already dead, but they
fall.

     As I reenter the street, I again turn right and follow the street left
around a corner.  The street ends with a door on the left.  It is unlocked.
so I enter to find a room that appears to be empty.   As I look around, I see
another door to the north.  Approaching the door, an ogre and a bugbear,
along with their mindless orcs, attack from the shadows.  What the guard had
said, appears to be true.  There are monsters at almost every turn.  I think
that maybe these thieves are smarter than I figured.  With all these lesser
minions running loose, their tracks will be hard to find indeed.  Luck is
with me, and these too fall to the floor dead.

     Cleaning my sword, I open the door cautiously and find a corridor
running north and south.  I enter and see two more doors ahead on the right.
As I approach the last door I am attacked by six orcs which are easily slain.
I open the door and a hallway that turns left to enter a long narrow room.
Searching the room and it's walls, I find nothing, just another dead end.

     I make my way back to the where the orcs had jumped me and open the next
door to find myself back in the streets of Southwall.  But this time it
appears that I am near the city's well in what appears to be a town square.
I move off to my right.  I find a street to my right.  Taking this, I find an
arms dealer and an Inn, called the Adventurer's Paradise, a place to drink
ale, rest your bones and buy or sell weapons.  I enter the inn for an ale to
quench my thirst.

     Leaving the inn, I look left and see the gate to Vilnask.  Not having
business there, I move back up the street to the well.  I turn right and
follow the street ahead leaving the well behind.  The street twist right then
left then right and left again.  Two doors lie ahead, one near on the left
and a little further down on the right.  The door on the left reveals an
empty chamber.  Back to the street.

     Turning left, I approach and enter the other door.  A merchant
approaches me and says, "I am pleased to see you here to protect us.  The
inner portion and even the north of this bazaar have become dangerous.
Monsters and thieves roam freely here.  Be careful, and may Tyr guide your
quest for justice."  As he walks away, I see a door to my left.  I enter and
find a larger chamber.  A quick look around reveals nothing, so I leave and
go back to the street.

     This bazaar appears to circle to my right and then north.  I turn right
and follow the twisting street to a door on my right.  There is also an alley
to my left, but I decide to look in the shop first.  As I enter the shop, a
lass approaches and says, "It's good to see you here.  Now the farmers will
bring more food, with your protection.  Be careful of the dark passage to the
west.  At night many strange beings go there."  With that, I decided to check
the inner portion out.  Maybe I could find a clue to the thieves hide out.

     Leaving the shop, I went straight across the street and into the alley,
moving ahead to a heavy wooden door.   It is not locked, so I enter to find a
corridor with small areas off to each side.  As I step forward, I am attacked
by six skeletons.  As I hack at these animated dead, I wonder what is so
precious to these thieves that they levy such a monstrous burden on the
people of Southwall.  Scattering these bones around the room, I continue my
search.  The room ahead is empty.

     Leaving these chambers, I move back down the alley and turn left into
the street.  A little further along, I spy a street to the right.  There are
three doors along this street, two on the left and one on the right.  I enter
the door on the right, take a step forward, and run into the a pack of six
goblins and two hobgoblins, preparing for a night raid on Southwall.
Sweeping into them, I easily slay the lot.  The rest of this chamber is
empty.  Making my way back to the street, I enter the door just ahead.

     I am in what appears to be a small foyer.  Opening the next door, I am
immediately jumped by four kobolds and two orcs.  Moving quickly, I draw my
sword and slay the two closest kobolds.  As the others attack, I move from
side to side slashing and stabbing.  Once again silence rules the night as
the last orc falls to the ground, dead.  Like the one before, this chamber is
empty also.

     Back in the street, I turn left to investigate the last door.  Entering,
I see a large chamber with a corridor and two doors just ahead.  I move
forward and four kraken spies leap from the shadows to attack.  Surrounded, I
find that I am attacked from all sides.  Especially the back.  But these also
fall to my blade.  Truly I am blessed during this search.  Moving ahead, the
first chamber is empty.  In the second I run across a snake lurking in the
shadows.  Two quick cuts of my blade and the snake will strike no more.

     Moving back into the larger chamber I think that there must be something
here.  I am running out of places to look.  Searching the walls, I find a
hidden passage in the north-east corner of the chamber.  It appears to be
locked, so bracing myself, I bash it in.  I am standing in what looks like
another corridor.  Moving forward, I lean against the wall to rest a second,
and it moves just slightly.  Another hidden passage, but it too is locked.

     After two tries, I finally bash it open and enter yet another corridor.
The floor slants downwards sharply towards the east.  As I continue the
corridor turns north and I notice green, foul smelling water dripping from
the ceiling.  The canal must run completely across Southwall from east to
west.  The passage starts to slant steeply upwards now, and I spy a door.

     Entering, I find myself facing a troll and six orcs.  The orcs don't
worry me, but the troll is another matter.  Strong and wiry, they have the
ability to rise from the dead if you don't watch them.  This one doesn't as I
cut him deep across the midsection and pile the dead orcs upon his body.
This chamber reveals nothing.  I am at a loss.  I have nearly searched the
entire city of Southwall and have nothing to lead me to the thieves den??A
Father's Sadness
(submitted by: Thorn Hawk)

A doe looked up from the grass is was eating.  There was nothing there to
cause the doe any danger.  It waited a few minutes.  Bending its head, the
doe began eating again, but a faint touch upon its neck froze the doe in its
tracks.  Its instincts felt nothing dangerous in the woods, only a sense of
peace.  As the doe resumed eating, a subtle breeze drifted along the trail.  

The ranger smiled to himself as he continued his run through the woods.  He
loved the animals of these woods and felt a pang of guilt at playing the
trick on the doe.  The animal had not bolted at his presence, his touch or
his smell he reminded himself.  Quickening his pace, he pressed on,
determined to make the small shrine of Mielikki on the far edge of the forest
by nightfall.  A small fire, off to the side, caught his attention.  Moving
towards the source of the blaze, the ranger prepared for a fight.  Entering a
clearing, he found an old man resting next to the blanketed form of a small
boy.  

"That's far enough, stranger," threatened the old man holding a crossbow,
"state your business or move on."  "I saw thee had a fire and came through
the trees to ask if I might join thee in a midday meal." replied the ranger.
"My name is Thorn Hawk," he said, "and you are?"  Thinking, "I'm called
Galen," replied the old man still holding the crossbow.  

"You may join me if you want stranger." said Galen, lowering the crossbow to
his knees.  
"I thank thou, Galen for thee hospitality," whispered Thorn Hawk as he
approached the camp fire.  "There is no need to whisper Thorn," replied
Galen, "the boy is not asleep.  May I call you Thorn?"  Nodding, Thorn Hawk
sat down across from Galen next to the boy.  Glancing at the boy, "Is he
ill?" asked Thorn Hawk.  With sad eyes, Galen nodded his head.  "He fell ill
near a week ago," replied Galen close to tears.  

"He is my only son.  Named him Jonas after my father.  We live in a farm just
a days walk North of here near the head waters of the Neverwinter river.  His
mother, Lillian, and I didn't know what to do.  We tried every medicine we
know of only to have it fail.  Growing desperate, I headed out last night
with Jonas in hopes of reaching a town or village with a healer." said Galen,
crying openly now.  

"Was there anything strange that thee remembers before Jonas caught this
illness?" asked Thorn Hawk.  "No, not that I can remember.  We have a
peaceful farm, Thorn, even though we live within the Neverwinter woods.
There is one thing....  Jonas's puppy disappeared just a few days before
Jonas started feeling ill.  He has not come back, but these are dangerous
woods and any sort of creature could have caught the dog."  

Inclining his head, Thorn Hawk agreed with the farmer.  A wild animal likely
made a meal of the boy's puppy.  "May I look at him?" asked Thorn Hawk,
perplexed by the Jonas illness.  "You won't hurt the boy?" asked the father,
worry plain on his face.  "I will not hurt thee son, Galen." answered Thorn
Hawk.

Moving the blanket back, the ranger began examining the boy for any wounds
that might be infected.  There were small scratch marks on one leg that
showed signs of inflammation, but that was it.  Thinking, Thorn Hawk was at a
loss to explain the disease that now infected the boy.  Glancing at Galen, "I
can not explain what is wrong with thee son Galen, but I can ease his pain
and hopefully allow thee to reach a village with a priest.  For I feel thee
will need one to cure this illness." answered Thorn Hawk to an unspoken
question.  Nodding, Galen allowed Thorn Hawk to help his son.  Preparing a
tea from two small leaves from within his pack, Thorn Hawk spoon fed the
drowsy boy.  Wincing at the bitter taste, the boy still managed to drink all
the tea.  

"That should help with the pain, Jonas." said Thorn Hawk, smiling at the boy.
Jonas smiled in return before drifting off to sleep.  Together Galen and
Thorn Hawk sat through the rest of the day and into the night watching over
the boy looking for some sign of improvement.  "In the morning thee should
set out for Floodblest.  It is the nearest town from here that might have a
priest for thee son." said Thorn Hawk.  

"I will do that, Thorn and thanks for all you have done."

"It was my pleasure, Galen....I hope it was enough." replied Thorn Hawk as he
drifted off to sleep.

The next morning dawned clear with a hint of spring in the air.  Waking with
a start, Thorn Hawk looked upon Galen, holding the still form of his son,
crying in the warning rays of the morning sun.  With a heavy heart, Thorn
Hawk rested his hand on the shoulder of the farmer not knowing the words to
comfort the grieving man.  In his short like, he had never lost anyone he
loved and could not fully comprehend the loss of a child.  

"I must return home to Lillian." choked Galen, looking up with red rimmed
eyes.  "I understand." answered Thorn Hawk quietly, "I will help thee."  

"No, my friend," responded Galen, "I must do this alone."  Nodding, Thorn
Hawk helped the old man prepare for the journey home.  Setting his son in a
litter, Galen set forth on a trek home he had no desire to make.  "Take care,
Thorn and I do not hold you to blame for my sons' death.  You did all you
could to make his pain easier and I thank you for that."  

"Cool water and shade, Galen," spoke Thorn Hawk, "May thee journey be swift
and the gentle eyes of the lady watch over thee." watching Galen melt into
the trees heading northward.  

Fearing for the farmers' safety, Thorn Hawk headed down the trail the old man
had taken.  Following slowly, he stayed well behind, but within earshot of
his charges.  The day wore on and still Thorn Hawk trailed, until sundown.
When smoke rose from the North, he broke off and headed down a trail heading
towards the shrine, his original goal, not wanting to disturb the reunion of
the farmer and his wife.  That night, with a wearisome spirit, the ranger sat
thinking of home and loved ones left behind.  

All was not right, Thorn Hawk noticed while running unobserved down a path.
Stopping to understand his disquiet, he perceived a wrongness about the woods
around him.  It was not some evil presence he felt, but a imbalance in the
order of things.  Looking at the ground, the skilled ranger beheld a set of
tracks leading off the trail into a clearing.  The tracks were those of a
small dog.  Dreading the worst, he moves silently after his prey.  

Pursuing his prey, the ranger reflected back to the marks on the boys leg.  A
small dog or puppy might make those marks, he reasoned.  A noise just ahead,
snapped the ranger out of his contemplation.  Moving soundlessly, Thorn Hawk
drew near his prey, a brownish red puppy.  It sat quietly midst the mighty
trees surrounding the clearing.  Taking a oilskin bundle from his back, Thorn
Hawk uncovered a well cared for bow.  Stringing the bow and fitting an arrow,
the ranger drew.  The elvish bow sang, sound echoing among the great trees,
to take the life of a helpless puppy.

Lighting a small prier, Thorn Hawk said a prayer to Mielikki to guide this
lost one home.  "My lady, show a kind, gentle face to one of your own this
morning.  Tis a small dog, new to this world and unknowing of the wrongness
of its' spirit.  Escort it home for it is lost."  Watching the fire, the
ranger cried.

Most people think us rangers move through the realms leading the lost to
safety or wandering the wild places killing evil creatures, but that is not
all we do.  There are times when all we can do is hold someone's hand in
sympathy or those we slay are neither evil nor monstrous, just lost........

Thorn Hawk,
Pathfinder.Friday Night Blast
(submitted by: Xerdek)

          As the lonely Drow entered the Lost Hills he saw warriors battling
for miles.  Travelers were forced to turn around and take other paths.  As
the Drow quietly snuck by some minor squirmish's he saw in a distance his new
Abbilen.  He ran swiftly to take a strategic position before anyone else
could jump his Abbilen.  When he entered the battle he was caught off guard,
a Kefer ran right into him.  The Kefer stood back and look at his
surroundings, he couldnt run anywhere he was surrounded.   Taking advantage
of the situation Abidaddi quickly clumsied Starbeard2.   Meanwhile Abzzstain
and Sylvaria were cleaning up another foe that dared to challenge the
strength of BDA.

         Looking around Starbeard could see five Drows taunting him while he
was defenseless.  Then help came, a unnamed SOL entered the fight.  When he
entered the fight he all of a sudden turned white, knowing his end would come
quickly.   Abzzstain quickly moved in, followed by the rest.  With in a
matter a minutes the SOL left just like he came in.

         Abidaddi returned to taunt the Kefer while Abzzstain went after Warr
Cosmo, this was a BDA fight, no one else needed to be in there.  The lonely
Drow followed Abzzstain and they began releasing powerful burts of magic.
Sylvaria soon joined, but the Warr made one last gasp for life.  Abzzstain
was stuck, but moving quickly the lonely Drow released his new Abbil.
Abzzstain took advantage of the quick release and finished off the Warr.   

         After all the dust settled not one Drow had fallen, and only one had
even been damaged.  As the lonely Drow prepared to continue on he felt a hand
on his shoulder, Abzzstain had invited him to stay and battle on.  Xerdek now
was lonely no more, he had found Abbilen he could truly trust.No Bite, But a
B-ARK
(submitted by: MrBill888)

I think that I shall never see,
ARK's with IQ's above thirty three,
A mineral, a plant, or maybe a Veg,
Chew gum and walk?  That's a bet I won't hedge

I found an ARK in a corner once,
Stepping in place like a ARK-typical dunce
I turned him around and a smile I did see
As he moved down the street, I had set that ARK free

Another I found with his face toward the sky,
With his mouth held wide open and a tear in his eye.
He said he was hungry and a man told him last night,
If he'd stand 'til the day, he'd get a snack that was light

In the woods in the west there are rumors around
Of a graveyard of ARK's where no ARK can be found.
They forgot where they buried their yesterdays dead
Once again they did prove there's no brains in ARK heads

An ARK broke a finger when she bumped with her nose,
A door she should open, not a door she should close
I heard her declare she was really in pain
And that madness would come and drive her insane

I quickly commented "you've not too far to go"
And she gazed back at me, boy her mind sure worked slow
I mentioned again her destination was not far
She smiled and she thanked me, then fell over the bar

The ARKs have a motto that is simple to see,
From their simplistic prattle and their moronic glee.
One ARK says,  "I would rather have prefrontal lobotomy"
And another replies, "Than a bottle in front of me"

The scars on their forehead attest to the fact
They reversed that short phrase from the front to the back
Have pity on them when they toss out some feebs,
They will like hit each other, they are laughable dweebs

I wish them the best, though the fact is quite sad
The harder they try, the more they do bad
As they drool and they shuffle they bring light to the lands
For a laugh can be bright, in an idiots hands

Mr. Bill888
The Unswerving
Poet Laureate of OGS
Come join NW Ember and NW Ulfius for the March edition of:
               <<>><<>>  Who/What/Am/I  <<>><<>> 


When: Thursday, March 21st
Time:  10 PM Eastern time
Where:The Great Hall Tavern

Prizes:
First Place: 25 Pearls + 4 hours
Second Place: 20 Pearls + 3 hours
Third Place: 15 Pearls + 2 hours

Cya There!
NW Ember and NW Ulfius

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(submitted by Malhavok)

KAAOS wishes to congratulate it's very own Demon God, Slayve, on becoming the
first warrior in Neverwinter history to become the Champion of 3 PVP ladders
simultaneously!   Slayve holds the #1 spots on the Singles Ladder, Doubles
Ladder and is the WPC PVP Champion.

KAAOS held a special "BYOW (Bring Yer Own Worship)" ceremony, in honor of
Slayve's acheivement, this past Tuesday evening at 10:30pm est in the Triboar
arena.  Folks were invited to come celebrate with the Gods and Goddesses of
KAAOS!!  It was a night that others won't soon forget...(unless we Feebed
you, of course) ;>

WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!  KAAOS!

(submitted by Stritus)

Tidbit.  The diagonal move keys dont work when numlocks is on.  I was
confused about whether you could move diagonally for a while.. I'm posting
this so newbies don't suffer like I did.<><><><><>
<><><><><>

Gimme a Scoop!  Enter the weekly News of the Realm contest by submitting text
for publishing.  If your Announcement, Article, Helpful Hint, NW Abby
Question, Poem, Fiction, or Tidbit wins, you'll have won your choice of 4
Pearls or Access to the GOH (Guild of Heroes)!  Submit all text to
screenname: NW NEWS.

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