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 Post subject: New take on an old name
PostPosted: Fri Aug 03, 2007 8:49 am 

Joined: Sun Jan 11, 2004 3:49 am
Posts: 705
Apparently my muse has woken up and is throwing itself around my head, trying to get out. This story came to me today and won't let me go. I did start ANOTHER alt - a DE Necro name Daerius. First one who came with a built in storyline in a while :)

For the record, I DID know a DE named Philith in EQ1, but I can't remember his last name - gotta go dig it up. I haven't spoken with him in over 2 years so he doesn't know I've incorporated his character into my storyline. However, Daerius swears he's related...so who am I to argue?

“Bloody hell woman, let go of me” the young dark elf snarled, yanking his arm from the grasp of the rather determined female beside him. Her head snapped around and she pinned him on the spot with her silver gray eyes, all foul words dying on his lips.

“You, Daerius, are a disgrace to your family name” she hissed, seething at him in lightly accented common. His eyes widened, a cold scowl marring his otherwise beautiful features.

“And what, pray tell, would you know of my good family name?” he retorted, disgust lacing the otherwise aristocratic lilt of his words.

“I knew your great grandfather Philith and I assure you, he would be ashamed” she bit back at him, entire demeanor menacing. Daerius had to hand it to her, she definitely knew how to make the whole room feel a lot smaller. Fortunately, growing up as a dark elf had made him used to such intimidation tactics. Instead he chose to sneer at her.

“Oh that’s rich – Philith died almost 200 years ago. I never even knew the bastard” his head snapped round as the flat of her palm connected with it in a sharp crack.

“You will not speak of him in such manners. Your great grandfather was a kind, wise, and worldly man – which is more than I can say for you” the tone of her voice was dark and forbidding. Daerius raised an eyebrow and rubbed his jaw.

“And how do I know you’re telling the truth? If you did know my great grandfather that would put you just shy of –“

“600 years of age to be exact. Thank Cazic for good breeding” she had crossed her arms across her leather clad chest and he tilted his head at her. There was something remotely foreign about her features. To the casual observer she was likely human in race, but up close… She was dark skinned with black hair, and mid height - head coming to just below his chin. Her forehead was slightly larger than the average human’s, and her high cheekbones and well defined mouth belied careful breeding. She was firmly muscled, as she had to be for her profession as a bruiser, and stood with a casual arrogance that was beyond that of simple human superiority.

“You’re not human” he said casually, surprised that she rolled her eyes.

“Give the elf a cookie” she shot back. He frowned.

“Well?” he asked. She raised an eyebrow, small smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

“Well what?” she asked. Daerius let out a great, embellished sigh.

“Well what the bloody hell race are you then?” he snapped.

“Erudite of course” the light tilt of her words becoming more pronounced as she said the word ‘Erudite’. He frowned.

“Not bloody likely. I’ve seen their kind and you” he gesticulated at her unadorned face and arms “Are certainly not that” He scowled as she chuckled at his expense.

“Are you ears full of tubers boy? I just told you I’m nearly 600 years old. Believe it or not, we Erudites were not always the bedazzled prunes that claim that title today. Once we were not so different from humans in look. Superior, of course, but certainly not lacking in their more desirable physical attributes” her cool tone and calm demeanor impressed confidence upon him. Doubt began to niggle at the back of his mind – perhaps…

“Prove it”

“And how would you like me to do so?” she responded, swiftly switching to speaking in the melodic elder Erudite “By teaching speaking to you in my native tongue?” just as swiftly she spoke in the oldest forms of dark speech “Or perhaps I should tell you what I learned at the hands of my teachers”, and then fell back into the dialect specific to Paineel “Or would you like me to tell you of my homeland and how much I have lost?”

Daerius stared at her, mouth agape. Truthfully, he’d understood only a quarter of what she’d said, but he could remember hearing the old tongues from his grandfather who had learned them from Philith. Once a house of nobility, Daerius’s family had lost its titles and earnings when the land had been torn apart during the wars. The final blow had come with the loss of Neriak, meaning the loss of any memory that his family had once been a part of the finest aristocracies. He had been raised with the typical royal upbringing – private tutors had taught him everything from science, to math, to languages to dance. For so long they had held onto the hope that they would someday regain their heritage.

Now that Neriak had been unearthed Daerius was determined to reclaim what rightfully belonged to his family. It had just been unfortunate that this particular woman had happened upon him as he was torturing a Fae in the surrounding lands. He hadn’t even seen her coming until she’d grabbed hold of him, torn him away from his fun and shoved him down the entrance to the city.

“You seem to have me at a disadvantage” he said smoothly, deciding to smooth things out for the moment. “You know who I am, but I have no idea who you are”

“My name is Khlarity Soulreaver” she responded, again giving him pause.

“I’ve read about you…” he said in a slightly awed tone. Khlarity rolled her eyes.

“Brilliant. You can tell me all about myself while I take you to the city registrar”

His eyes rested upon her bo staff and he frowned deeply, “You were a shadowknight…”

“Was being the correct word to use” she answered, eyes catching his again, “Unfortunately I lost my ability to use magic as I was catapulted through time. Most unpleasant experience” Daerius shuddered.

“What is it you want with me?” he asked finally. The grin she gave him was not one he would have categorized as reassuring.

“I’m going to teach you. You have chosen the path of the dark arts, correct?” he nodded mutely, “Then I will help you learn not only those arts that are used today, but those we knew intimately in the older years. Perhaps then you will return your family’s name to its former glory through actions, not just birthright”

Daerius nodded and tipped his head in acceptance. Who was he to argue with a woman who could knock him out in one punch?

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PostPosted: Fri Aug 03, 2007 2:59 pm 
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Joined: Thu Sep 14, 2006 5:16 pm
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Location: Arizona
Very nice Khlar. :D

Jopia 53 Mystic
Seablade 36 Swashbuckler
Xanaria 29 Huntress in a World of Warcraft
Prise 26 Warlock
Jidon 14 Warden
Louka 19 Assassin/32 Provisioner
Intermezzo 12 Dirge

And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffers violence and the violent take it by force.

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PostPosted: Mon Aug 06, 2007 1:41 am 

Joined: Sun Jan 11, 2004 3:49 am
Posts: 705
There will probably be more added to this tonight...For some reason this story is just itching to get out. Its been a while since I've REALLY had the inkling to write anything. Apparently my muse is letting out some pent up frustration....


Daerius rubbed the back of his head and glared down at the woman next to him. While he couldn’t prove it, he would swear she was smacking him from time to time – he assumed to check his reflexes. Apparently they were lacking as he could neither catch her in the act nor predict when it would occur. The two walked in companionable silence through the streets of new Neriak, both taking in the sights of the recently exposed city.

Daerius paused for a moment, eyes raking the buildings around him. Sighing he turned to Khlarity, “I haven’t the faintest idea as to where to go” he admitted, a bit embarassed. Her steely gray eyes glimmered with mirth.

“I don’t know why you’re looking at me” she responded, “I knew the Neriak of old like the back of my hand. It was one of my favorite cities. This however”, she gesticulated to the expansive caves around them “This is not the town I once knew. I’ll be lucky if I ever learn how to get through this city”

Daerius contemplated her for a moment, surprised to hear her admit to her own lack of knowledge. From what he knew of her race they were proud, arrogant people who never let on that they were lacking in any area.

“The lack of knowledge, Daerius, is always your enemy” she responded as if she had been reading his mind, “Humility is necessary to survival. If you do not know you must learn, and you cannot learn if you don’t admit what you do not know”

Daerius furrowed his brow, mildly confused at the circuity of her statement. Her sharp eyes landed on a building across the street and she pointed to it, “I do believe that is our location. And if not, I am sure the guard located out front would be more than happy to tell us where to go” He watched in mild admiration as she jogged across the street, lithely dodging foot traffic and horses alike. As she reached the other side, she turned back to him and quirked an eyebrow. “It’s not my family name that needs reclaiming” she called to him, crossing her arms across her chest.

Daerius flushed, embarrassed again that he had been caught staring at her. He felt clumsy in his own efforts to cross the street, and reached the other side with an uncharacteristic face plant at her side. From the corner of his eye he could have sworn he saw her draw her foot quickly back to herself, but by the time he looked she was simply smirking down at him. He coughed, embarrassed again, and stood, brushing off his robes.

“I actually need to run some other errands while we’re here. So if you can be a big boy and take care of this yourself….” Khlarity trailed off. Embarrassment gone, Daerius gave her a steely look and frowned.

“I am more than capable of taking care of myself. I am, afterall, closing in on my hundredth birthday” he snapped back, stung by her mild barb. The soft laughter he heard at his own expense didn’t help soothe his already aching ego.

“Oh lighten up. It could be worse. I could be a troll” she teased gently before pushing him in the direction of the door to the building. Daerius watched her saunter out of sight, suddenly unable to get the idea of a troll in skin tight leather out of his head. Shuddering he turned sharply on his heel and entered the city registrar’s office.

Immediately he regretted his decision to come. The office was packed with Dark Elves, obviously in the same situation he was in, lining up at every available window. Grimacing, he realized that if the smell was any indication he could very well be there for a while as well. Sighing, he rubbed his forehead and glanced longingly at the front door. Perhaps it would be best to wait another month for the rabble to die down. After all, his family had gone 200 years without its titles or land…another 30 days wouldn’t kill them.

Exiting the building again he leaned on the cool blue stone wall next to the door, closing his eyes. Too many people in a small place still worked at his nerves. He wasn’t frightened, but they seemed to cloud his thoughts and judgment. He couldn’t distinguish that pulse of life and death that thrummed through everything when he was in crowded places, and he knew that would be what could kill him.

His eyes flew open at the small touch on his elbow and he shot upright, dark purple eyes landing on knowing grey. A small, but not unkind, smile graced her lips. Wordlessly she tipped her head in the direction of a tavern down the street and he nodded. The two walked in a thoughtful silence, only breaking to order food once they had been seated.

It was rather unfortunate that the tavern Khlarity had chosen was having an open poetry night, and the patrons taking part were of questionable intelligence and state of mind. After the third emotional outpouring of the injustices of life, Daerius noticed the Erudite’s shoulders shaking as she snorted into her glass of ale.

“Ok there?” he asked, concern etched on his face. She looked up at him, a roguish grin across her features.

“I just don’t get it” she said, laughter in her voice as she tried to speak quietly, “Growing up in Paineel it was law that children were removed from their parent’s influences at a young age to be set on the path that best suited them. We were certainly not coddled, and were raised under the trainings of Cazic Thule’s more…influential…followers” Darius caught sight of a scar along her forearm and wondered absently where it had come from, “Discipline was instilled on us at a young age, and to say the least we were well disciplined” His lips quirked at her play on words, “We were certainly well educated…But I don’t think you would catch an Erudite alive or dead spewing the horrible drivel that seems to so excite these Dark elf youths” Daerius chuckled.

“I suppose,” he responded, drawling out his words, “It is the difference between cultures. Ours seems to take almost a perverse pride in its ability to hurt its own people. Even more, we seem to feel the need to remind others about how horrible we are to our own people. I suppose” he dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “It makes us feel more important” He watched as the woman across from him tipped her head back in a hearty laugh.

“I suppose” she responded, the smile not leaving her face, “that is most likely the right answer” She groaned as another patron stood to take the page, “Shall we? I think if I have to listen to one more ill formed sonnet I might take some perverse pride in torturing this poor soul” Daerius laughed loudly, surprising himself even with the sound. It had been a long time since he’d had anything to laugh about.

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PostPosted: Wed Aug 08, 2007 3:55 am 

Joined: Sun Jan 11, 2004 3:49 am
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Daerius growled in frustration as he sent his rather unwilling bat in to do his bidding once more. The damnable creature seemed to get more in the way than out of and he was pretty sure it had no clue how to avoid taking a hit from anything. He snarled once more as the zombie he had been target practicing on killed off the bat. It was on top of him within moments and was mostly pure luck that he managed to kill it with two more spells. Any longer and it was likely he would have been joining the ranks of the living dead.

Leaning over he placed his hands on his knees, pulling in big gulps of air to help him reorganize. One day this would have to get easier. One day he would be able to do this in his sleep.

A half hearted golf clap caught his attention from a couple yards away and he turned his head to glare at the woman sitting on the top of a large rock. She was watching him intently with a small smile resting on her lips, legs crossed and back uncomfortably straight.

“Well” she offered, “You didn’t die” Daerius rolled his eyes before running a hand through his hair.

“Creatures of Norrath beware – Daerius Bel’la didn’t die in a fight with a zombie” he snarked back, a sneer twisting his face. Khlarity sighed at him and then stood, walking over to him to take his hand in her own and place it on the middle of her chest.

“What do you feel Daerius?” she asked. He stared at her a moment, before blurting

“Besides a raging erection?” Khlarity seemed to lose her composure for a moment, eyes widening and mouth dropping open as she gasped in surprise and laughter. The hand that had been holding his immediately let go as if she had been burned by his touch, and he let his own hand drop to his side, face flushing with embarrassment. Damn broken internal filter.

“Well yes” she managed to choke out, “Besides that. I mean” She swallowed and seemed to regain herself a bit, “You should feel the life within everything around you. Feel that hum that makes up the magic within this world”

Daerius closed his eyes, mostly so he wouldn’t have to look at her. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, allowing himself to feel the world around him. He heard the birds off in the bushes to his left, the undead rising from the ground behind them. There was a faint thrum of…something…he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Two tendrils of power – one a bright white, buzzing with busy electricity around them, the other a dark black that languidly pooled around his feet.

“Those Daerius, are the essences of life and death. Those energies are what you must control. If you cannot feel them, cannot see them, you cannot use them for your own needs” the Erudite’s voice came as a soft murmur from below his shoulders. He opened his eyes again finding hers looking at him expectantly. A slightly wistful look was upon her face, but it disappeared almost as soon as he saw it. She contemplated him for a moment and then jerked her head off in another direction.

“Come, I want to show you something”
After a day of hiking Daerius found himself looking at an open meadow littered with stone and rubble, the remnants of an old building that had been long since decimated. Grass had grown between the boulders, but some of the foundation remained in tact and curved along the edges of the cliff that backed the open expanse of land. They picked along a path leading up to what had once been the entrance, and he shuddered as he realized one of the doors remained in tact. It was bizarre – everything else had been destroyed but here stood this clear reminder that once a building had stood in this spot. The runes on the door beckoned him and he felt compelled to place his hands on them, to push the doors open -

“I found it again when they said the lands of Faydwer were uncovered. I didn’t know for sure…but I thought perhaps…” the spell was broken as he heard her speak, voice thick with emotion. He looked at her sharply and then turned his head back to the ruins.

“The Omen Hall” he murmured, reverently. Growing up he had heard stories and read passages in history books of those who had foreseen the changing of the world. There were tales of their various exploits, and bards sang of a great hall where they gathered and lived together. While many had looked for it, tried to seek out those who had predicted the events to come, tried to find answers to the questions they had, the last reported sighting was from before The Rending. After that, the Hall had simply ceased to exist.

Khlarity seemed reluctant to walk through the doors into the actual ruins, and instead lead him along the edge. He looked down, and absently picked up a sword from amongst the remains. It was made of a sharp, twisted obsidian blade and bore a platinum handle that curved around the bearer’s hand. He swung it experimentally in the air a few times, before looking over for his companion. She had an odd look on her face as she watched him.

“That is a Jagged Sword of the Dragon Slayer” she said without looking at him directly, “It was a very wicked weapon in its time, with a very particular magical signature. Only Shadowknights from Paineel could wield it” Daerius nodded absently before laying it back where he had picked it up.

As he stood, his hand brushed against one of the stone pillars that had once been a wall and he felt a shock of electricity jolt through his arm. Jumping back he grabbed his hand “What the –?” he exclaimed. Khlarity’s eyes glittered as they bore into his, a small smile playing on her lips.

“So you can feel it” she said.

“What the hell is that?” he demanded, glaring back at the ruined stones as he clutched his tingling hand against his chest.

“The Omen Hall was created, and later destroyed, by very strong magic. Apparently much of it still resides within the stones. This energy, this magic is old magic. It has been around since before all of us here, and will be around long after we leave”

Daerius reached out tentatively, hovering his hand over a boulder and feeling the almost slippery vibrations of magical energy emanating from it.

“This is what we, the Portents, used and what you must learn to use if you ever plan on being better or stronger than those around you” she said, impressing her words on him.

“Can you feel it too?” he asked absently, closing his eyes and allowing the energy to wash over him. It was different from what he had seen before. This was alive, crackling, potent.

“Once” she said, a wistful tone matching that look he had seen earlier, “Once it was as familiar to me as those doors were. It fit me, fed me, molded me even as I molded it. But now” she trailed off and he opened his eyes. She held a hand out over a broken section of wall. Her hand landed on it softly, and she left it resting there, “Now I feel nothing”

He couldn’t think of anything to say, so he said nothing. Looking down at the ruins, he saw a mask peeking out from under a bush and picked it up. It was simple, wooden, with runic words carved into it. Fier’dal he thought, and he brushed his fingertips over them. Something pulsed, and he turned the mask around placing it over his handsome features.

“What was this mask for?” he asked, his baritone voice sounding altered to his own ears. Khlarity looked up at him again and froze, eyes wide. She opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it again, then opened it again. No words came out. She looked like she had seen a ghost. “Khlarity?” he asked, lowering the mask from his face.

“It was…” she whispered, his elven ears straining to catch her response, “It was a disguise. It made its wearer appear to be a high elf” her voice seemed to recover a bit as he put the mask back in the rubble.

“I thought the planes circumvented the need for such disguises” he asked, deciding to ignore the wetness at the edges of her eyes. She cleared her throat before she answered.

“For most gatherings and needs, yes. The plane of knowledge in particular removed most of the necessity for disguises. However, certain wares were unavailable in the planes and required trips to the Norrathian cities. Obviously, those lawfully good cities were not eager to accept unlawfully evil persons and vice versa” Darius nodded and looked around, his eyes landing on what seemed to be the remainder of a hearth in the middle of the ruins.

“This must have been a huge complex”

“It housed any of us who chose to live here. For some…it was our only home. But as any place, it was not the walls that made it ours. It was the people” she smiled longingly, visions of former members swimming before her eyes. Suddenly her eyes flashed up and caught his, and she swallowed hard “I’m sorry Daerius…I shouldn’t have brought you here. I can’t…”

Before he could ask what she couldn’t do, she was gone. Daerius swore.

Khlarity slammed the door of her inn room and fell back against it, pressing the palms of her hands to her eyes. It had been so innocent, he had no idea what had happened. Truthfully SHE had no idea what had happened. She had picked through the wreckage before and thought that all the items that remained had been stripped of their magic – she assumed in the same accident that had stripped her of her own.

But when he had asked what the mask did and she turned – she’d seen him. Tall, pale skinned, pointed ears, that silly smile on his face, and those eyes….

“It wasn’t him…It wasn’t him…It wasn’t him” she repeated the mantra over and over as she paced the floor, alternating between snapping her fingers and clenching her fists. Anxiety poured over her like a cold shower and she hissed angrily. This was not going to happen. She was not going to think about it.

Even after all these years it still got to her. Cursing she strode across the floor and gave a hard shove to the table that sat in the middle of her room. Items shifted and a water glass fell to the floor and shattered. She would have to explain to Daerius later. She would have to tell him. But for now she just needed to forget.

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