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Portent Alliance • View topic - The Aftermath

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 Post subject: The Aftermath
PostPosted: Thu Apr 13, 2006 9:53 am 
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Location: Wherever I feel that I am needed the most.
OOC: Author notes - This is the transitional story of how Lamorak Elendil attempts to make his appearance in EQ2 after discovering his friends and family in EQ1 have disappeared after Ailinea's Time portal spell sent everyone into the future by mistake. It begins in EQ1 and will eventually continue into EQ2. Hopefully it won't become too confusing for anybody - especially me. :lol: Enjoy!!

-- Chapter 1 --

“AILI!!” shouts the distraught High Elf as he jolts awake from a nightmare that seemed all too realistic. “Omen Hall’s under attack!! I’m needed!! What have I done by being gone for so long?” With the speed of a highly trained Bard, he breaks camp from his most coveted of locations in the Plane of Tranquility, saddles up his trusted steed and clamors aboard its massive back. Thoughts of his sister in trouble only hastened all the commotion. “Let’s go boy. If I ever needed you to take me somewhere as fast as you can, now is the time. To Omen Hall!!” With that said, the mighty Drogmor understands the instructions and begins its long journey, slowly at first but quickly hastens its stride as it senses its masters urgent need to return home.

Time could not move fast enough for the highly worried Enchanter as all he could think about was the possibility that he had let his family down when they needed him the most. “It was just a dream … just a dream. Nothing bad has happened at all, but that’s not to say it can’t or won’t. Maybe I can get there in time to stop it from taking place. If I can’t stop it, I’ll at least be there to help defend my family for as long as possible.” Taking a moment to reflect upon reality, he pats his mount on the back of its neck ”Ailinea is fine and she’ll be overjoyed to see me again. I just know it. I’ll be ecstatic to see her again too” he says with a smile, trying to calm his mind but to no avail. As the Sun began to die, the decision was made to keep riding all through the night to make it back to his home at the earliest time possible. ”Thank the gods for the maps that Lilybette sent me. This magical “You Are Here” arrow works wonders … even in the dimmest of light.” Images of his vivid nightmare appeared in his mind all throughout the tedious journey. The details of warm fellowship in the great halls and high hopes of something grand that was to happen were suddenly shattered by something gone horribly wrong. “What have I done?” he kept reminding himself over and over. Worry was replaced with hope only to become worry again. As if his nightmare wasn’t bad enough, his father’s words returned to haunt him several times … “You should’ve chosen the path of a Warrior, boy!!” Even if he had followed his father’s wishes, the feelings he has now would still be the same. He was sure of it. The nightmare was all too real.

When the dawn began Norrath’s next lifecycle, familiar landscapes became more clearly into view for him as he continued his hurriedly homeward bound pace. Everything looked normal so far. Trampled grass from an army, heading in the same direction as he, were nowhere in sight. No rocks disturbed from their places in the ground, and all the birds were singing their morning songs. Crickets only ceased their chirping as he rode by, but began again once they realized they were not in any danger. Bright golden sunlight broke the final veil of darkness from the night before and began its daily duty of bringing warmth to the land. The leaves in the trees whispered their calming words as a slight morning breeze blew over them. Everything seemed normal as nothing was out of place.

Finally, Omen Hall made its appearance when he reached a hilltop so he could see more of the land around him. Not wanting to waste any more time, he motivates his mount to stride faster than it ever had done before, only to begin slowing down as they reached the grand portcullis and he gave the commands to come to a halt. “Whoa boy. Easy now. Easy.” he says to his traveling companion, bringing it to a full stop. “Good, I’m early. It WAS just a dream.” Breathing a sigh of relief, the weary traveler dismounts and heads through the massive doors to enter the grand hall.

Something odd was going on here though. His smile and excitement of finally coming home was replaced with a sense of dread as he notices the sinister silence: no laughter, no music, no distant sounds of his sister’s spells going off while she practiced in her spell-chambers … nothing. Not even the sounds of flames flickering, as not even the fireplaces, torches or braziers were lit. The only sounds were of the tapestries moving when spurts of the morning breeze passed through them. “HELLO? Anyone here? I’m HOME!!” he shouts, only to hear the sounds of his voice echoing back at him. “AILI? Are you here? Where is everyone?” Again, only echoes answer him. Panic sets in as he rushes upstairs to his sister’s room and notices that the door is open. Peering inside he can see that all of her belongings are still in place, the bed is made, but the normal coziness of the room isn’t there. “Something happened to her.” he says to himself. “Ktok must know what happened.” Earnestly, he makes his way to his leader’s room contemplating on what to inform the champion about his sister’s, and everyone else’s, disappearance as well as to inquire about why everything seems so … so … so what? Empty? Cold? Barren? Surely Ktok must have the answers.

Knocking at Ktok and Tmitka’s bedchamber doors, he awaits an invitation to enter, but no answer is given. Remembering the rule about never opening these doors without permission, he proceeds to search the rest of Omen Hall only to find what he already knew … nothing. Vandirr & Cyrie’s medical clinic has the same emptiness he felt when he saw Ailinea’s bedchamber. Continuing through the rest of the Keep he notices that the bottles of wine and ale, at the bar, have a film of dust on them. Very unusual considering that the bar is usually kept in very fine condition. The Armory is just as cold … no heat from the forges and all the tools are still neatly in their place. Going back outside to search for any clues to his family’s whereabouts, he finds a tree with a house built in it. ”This must be Lilybette’s new house. LILY? Are you there?” Once again, his question is answered with silence. Re-entering Omen Hall, he decides to check on his Shadowknight friend to see if she possibly could answer his questions. Knocking upon her bedchamber door, it opens slightly as if it were teasing him. ”Khlar? Are you here?” Being totally surprised that the door didn’t slam shut in his face, like it usually did whenever he’d stop by to say “hi”, only confirmed his decision about what he must do next. Being more concerned about everyone else than he is of an in-house rule, he heads back to Ktok and Tmitka’s bedchamber and cautiously opens the doors.

As the doors finally open wide enough, he steps into the room and glances around for his guild leader while expecting to be attacked for his violation of the sanctity of the lair. To his horror, nothing happens. No shouts to leave and close the door … no objects thrown at him … not even something as simple as a warning growl. A fear of total failure washes over him now. Failure for his family’s annihilation. Or was it annihilation? As the environment was outside, in the fields and meadows, so it was the same inside his home. Nothing has been disturbed or items of great value taken from their places throughout the Hall. Still, something is definitely amiss. These great halls have never been so quiet or lonely. Activity always used to be going on in some form or another. ”What happened here?” he says while moving back into the entry forum, still unbelieving that he’s here alone. ”WHERE IS EVERYONE?” he shouts out of sheer desperation.

As if an answer from an unknown entity, a parchment lands at his feet. Looking up to hopefully catch a glimpse of who dropped it, it becomes apparent that the parchment has just been floating around on the breeze that periodically travels indoors from the open windows. Nothing more. After taking a moment to verify that it is definitely real, and not something out of his mind, he picks it up and lays it on a nearby table. ”Construction plans by Fizwick? What the … ? It’s some sort of Spire system. Here in Omen Hall? This can’t be.” Studying the plans takes him a little while to comprehend, due to the Gnome’s Tinkering annotations. Eventually it becomes clear to him that these plans are indeed authentic. ”Where would Aili want them built? Only one place I can think of …” Once he arrives at Ailinea’s spell-chambers and cautiously opens the door, he notices that an additional room had been built as an add-on to her practice-room and immediately saw that something had indeed gone wrong in there. The heavily burnt spires were too obvious of a sign of a major catastrophe.

_________________
~ Sage Lamorak Elendil ~
Coercer of the 67th Illusion (EQ1 - semi-retired)
--------------------
Ashesko Istalindir - 38 Illusionist (EQ2)
McElendil Skibbles - 23 Fury (EQ2 - Ashesko's personal chef)
_________________

"Don't submit to stupid rules, be yourself and know what to look for. Don't accept average habits, open your heart and push the limits." ~ Enigma


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PostPosted: Tue May 02, 2006 7:44 am 
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Location: Wherever I feel that I am needed the most.
-- Chapter 2 --

Feeling faint, he can only drop to his knees with an overly burdened heartache. “It’s all my fault. All my fault” says the Coercer after reality confirmed his worst fear. His family was gone. He had indeed failed them. No one was around to welcome him home, much less anyone he could once again embrace and count on to always be there, for when they needed him and vice versa. His hopes and dreams shattered like an extremely fragile piece of brittle parchment being handled a little too roughly. Hopes of being able to come home to a warm fire, great food, and fellowship of his guild-mates were no longer possible. Dreams of how things might have been had he never undergone his Vision Quest to learn more of his skills as well as continue his studies to become a true Master of the Arcane magical arts of the mystical Enchanter were now just empty, unfulfilled fantasies.

Not knowing what to do next, much less why, he just stares into empty space with a blank look upon his face similar to the facial expressions of the countless numbers of foes he had Mesmerized in his lifetime to date. Memories of things that had once been began again to fill his mind, only this time each one felt painful instead of joy, love, contentment as well as exhilaration. Thoughts of how he first came to know each of his adopted family members of the Portent Alliance now overcame the feelings of abandonment.

The day he first ever had the pleasure of meeting a representative of the Portents, he had been writing in his journal while taking a break in the Wayfarer camp from exploring the lost dungeon in the Mistmoore Catacombs when he looked up and met the bluest of eyes he had ever seen affixed upon his very own. At that moment, he could think of nothing else. Not only her gaze, but also the smile she had given him had enthralled him. All he could do was continue to stare in sheer amazement as she passed by him. Only when she finally broke her concentration from him to conduct her business with the Butcherblock Mountain adventure merchant, was he finally able to move again and continue writing in his journal.

Yes, this was not only love at first sight, but also turned out to be an opportunity, which later would come to alter his life forever. Had he known that she’d be the one to change his life, he still would’ve followed the same path he was currently on at that time. No doubt about it. Fate was definitely smiling upon him on that particular day as they both were selected to be a part of the same team of people grouped together to go on an adventure into Mistmoore. The proof was in the pudding as the enchanting Wizardress happened to be more skilled with her role in the party than any of the so-called “competent” Wizards he had worked with before. He couldn’t help but wonder if the rest of her guild were as talented as she was. He had to find out for himself. They quickly became close friends and eventually became inseparable. So close of friends, in fact, that the majority of people that saw them together believed them to be betrothed to one another. Wherever she would go, he would follow along like a puppy that always wanted to be near its master so it could revel in the attention it would receive. “Ailinea” he softly spoke with a broken voice and tearful eyes. “She’s gone.”

On one occasion he had shared with Ailinea a dream he had when he was young and just beginning to understand his profession in the Enchanter field … a dream, which he carelessly disbelieved as just a figment of his imagination and nothing else. His red-haired, blue-eyed goddess would later happen to be the one who convinced him that he should speak with her guild leader and most trusted of friends about it. Fate had once again intruded upon his life as it just so happened that the Portent Alliance was hosting a “Language Faire” for people that were interested in learning new languages and that her guild leader would be there too since it was going to be near his home city of Shar Vahl. Having already studied every language there was to know in Norrath, he humbly accepted the generous offer of being another instructor at the Faire and could hardly wait to meet someone else who Ailinea trusted fully with her life.

_________________
~ Sage Lamorak Elendil ~
Coercer of the 67th Illusion (EQ1 - semi-retired)
--------------------
Ashesko Istalindir - 38 Illusionist (EQ2)
McElendil Skibbles - 23 Fury (EQ2 - Ashesko's personal chef)
_________________

"Don't submit to stupid rules, be yourself and know what to look for. Don't accept average habits, open your heart and push the limits." ~ Enigma


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PostPosted: Thu May 04, 2006 10:43 pm 
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Joined: Thu Feb 19, 2004 12:10 pm
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Location: Wherever I feel that I am needed the most.
-- Chapter 3 --

A faint smile made its way to the Enchanters face as he remembered how the Language Faire turned out to be a huge success after thinking how big of a disaster it could have been. Multitudes of people from foreign lands made their way to the outskirts of Shar Vahl that day. There were Gnomes, Halflings, Elves (Half-Elven, Dark Elves, Wood Elves as well as High Elves), Froglok, Dwarves, Erudites, Humans, Ogres, Trolls, and even some scaly Iksar. Most of the turn out was due to the large numbers of young Vah Shir who were most anxious to learn what the world had to offer them. Naturally trust was a primary concern amongst all the different races present.

Warning growls could be heard from the young Vah Shir who, at first, didn’t appreciate the fact that there were suddenly such a large number of unknown humanoids that now invaded their lands. Dark Elves kept mostly to themselves to do their part to keep the peace, but always maintained a constant vigil to expect the unexpected. Periodic hisses could be heard from the Iksar issuing their challenges to anyone who dared to approach them with a hostile intent. The Dwarves, Gnomes, Halflings, Half-Elves and Wood Elves, in a drunken stupor, seemed to be the ones who brought high-spirits to the masses by showing everyone how trivial it was to always want to destroy an enemy instead of taking the time to learn from them.

Pints of stout Dwarven Ale, Elderberry Wine, and Kalish were passed around to everyone who cared to join in the festivities. Non-alcoholic Jum-Jum juice and caffeine-free Gnomish coffee were greatly appreciated by the people who cared not to diminish their intelligence so they could focus more on the up-coming tasks of learning. Humans, Frogloks, Erudites and High Elves remained as they were - anxious to learn but neither letting down their guard by partaking in the spirited refreshments or quenching their thirsts with beverages that they deemed “not good enough”. Between attacks on the local animal life, selecting which Froglok, Gnome or Halfling would look best as a main course meal, and admiring all of the pretty colors of the landscape, Ogres and Trolls gathered in their own little groups and were anxious to receive their “prizes” of an increased intelligence.

All of the loud noise from each individual trying to make themselves heard more than the person next to them gradually came to a hush as a tiny herd of something could be seen coming from the city of Shar Vahl. Only as it drew closer could one make out what it was. Atop the three approaching Drogmor were three highly distinguished looking Vah Shir - two of which Lamorak recognized as close friends of his newfound love, which he was introduced to a few days prior … Azra and Tmitka. The third one he could only guess held more of a higher stature in the hierarchy due to its heavy armor and swords at its sides. At the hilt of one sword, a trace of a reddish glow was coming from inside its sheath while the other had a trace of a bluish glow. “Must be a Warrior” was all that came to mind as he continued to size up this champion while remembering the stories he'd heard as a child of Warriors legendary weaponry. He'd heard those stories so many times from his father that he was confident in his belief that these two swords were those of an Epic nature and not some cheap imitation crafted by an ordinary Blacksmith. The Vah Shir’s armor was immaculate to behold as the refracting light from the sun could easily blind a person if they were to look directly at its intermittent illumination. Only when Ailinea rushed over and embraced this mighty defender, did he understand whom he was about to meet.

When she made it a point to call him over, the High-Elf could only remind himself that she was just his best-friend and that she wanted to share with him someone who was obviously closer to her than anyone else. “Lam, this is Ktok.”, she happily introduced, and “He’s the one I was telling you to speak of your dream to.” Mustering up more than all the proper etiquette he could, Lamorak humbly bowed and introduced himself. With a nod to acknowledge the High-Elf’s gesture, the Vah Shir warrior exchanged a return greeting and then invited him to explain his dream once the Language Faire was over so they would have more time to talk.

_________________
~ Sage Lamorak Elendil ~
Coercer of the 67th Illusion (EQ1 - semi-retired)
--------------------
Ashesko Istalindir - 38 Illusionist (EQ2)
McElendil Skibbles - 23 Fury (EQ2 - Ashesko's personal chef)
_________________

"Don't submit to stupid rules, be yourself and know what to look for. Don't accept average habits, open your heart and push the limits." ~ Enigma


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