Emergence Game Thread

As we collectively head towards the sound, I somewhat reluctantly, I pull close to Rhiv "You have a tail." He gives me a bemused look, as this is something of a crude joke amongst Dragonbourne. I respond with a roll of the eyes. "You're being followed. And why are we headed towards the alarm? By the way, I left To'ot at our inn before sunset. He said he would meet us at the library in the morning. Is that not still the plan?"

I take this information in quickly. My bath and the brisk night air appear to have cleared my head, and I'm thinking more quickly than before, discerning more readily, and not just by instinct. I make a face at Rhiv's insinuation that I would want to leave the party now, but his statement is earned; he is not attempting to rile me. I take a deep breath, and slowly exhale, somewhat noisily. Looking straight ahead,I say "I'm with you." and then, turning to Rhiv with a grin, "Let's get to it." I break off in a run towards the alarm, readying crossbow and tightening belts.

My response to To'ot -

As I mentioned, I'm taken aback and off guard. I sit in a chair and stare at the fire. The wine glass trembles in my hand. My gaze is a thousand strides distant, and a hundred years ago.

"You will not be quick to say I have any piece of wisdom when you know why I rage. It was not always so..... I take a drink of wine and hurl the remnant into the flames. The glass shatters. The flames smolder and gasp. "I can still hear their screams. Hunters who rode beside me. Women. Children. Babes. None survived. I turn my empty gaze on To'ot. "You should know who you call wise." I look ar Rhiv and the newly-centered Harp. "You should know who you fight beside."I look away and pull out my hand axe and sharpening shale. The sharp, quick whisk of the blade on stone is like a metronome to my story's rhythm. "Our tribe was an island one. We thought we were the only sentient beings on earth. We knew not of any mainland, or humans, or orcs, or kings or Dragons. We hunted and took what the earth offered. We did not grow sick. We did not fight. Our existence was a happy one. A charmed one. My father, the chief of the tribe, ruled; as did his father before him and backwards to the beginning of our people's memory. They were loved and revered. What they hid from those who loved them was monstrous. How they had all willingly laid our peace in the slavering jaws, of a monster" I change from handaxe to sword. The whisk is now a long and low whisper - almost mournful. The night of my name's day, when I was to take the mantle of chief, after all the dancing and revelry, my father gripped my elbow and led me east. I thought it odd that his hand shook. We stopped at the very edge of the Darqueth Wild, an ancient forest on my island. Even in the middle of the night, one could sense the darkness of the trees. My father led me to the easternmost cedar, an ancient thousand-year old gnarl on a small hill. He said little: "Sit there. Choose wisely." His eyes held bottomless fear.

I am being more forceful with the blade now. Small sparks fly. The whisper is a shrill shriek.

The moon was near-full, so my eyes could pick out even the pattern of bark on distant trees. After several hours, I had begun to believe I had fallen victim to an elaborate hoax, when I saw walking toward me, from the darkness of the Wild, half a man. Despite only seeming to be the right half of a man, it seemed to be walking well enough, and only when the figure stepped just out of the edge of the Wild into the moonlight about 5 strides away did I understand why. It was a whole man, whose right side was pure glowing white, and left side was black. In fact, black is a poor word for the left side of the body – it was somehow darker than black, as if it drank the light. The figure was looking straight at me.

I had never known such fear. Just as I was about to issue a challenge, the figure spoke, though when it did, there seemed to be two voices, one a clear bell of a voice, and the other an undertoning rasping whisper. "Therrien son of Berron, for generations your forebearers have dealt with me in parlay for the peace of your tribe. Each in his turn has chosen wisely, and has been rewarded with my gentle protection, and the avoidance of my ravenous hunger. For I have been an ally to your tribe such that they have never needed another, yet I can also be the slavering maw that devours them whole. I will say no more than this, for this is all I have ever said. Now, which of me will you choose to deal with your people?"

And with this, the figure seemed to rend itself in two along its axis and each half became whole such that I was now faced with two figures. One, a glowing white, noble figure, and one whole man-shaped void in the night, full of menace and power. I.... remember, I raised my hand ... and pointed at one of the figures.

Everything that happened after is a nightmare. The shadow figure suddenly opened its eyes and a horrible mouth – all appeared as glowing embers in a fanned fire. It shrieked and swept toward me at impossible speed. I had just unsheathed my sword when the darkness struck me in the small of my back, sending me to the ground. The figure swept on westward toward the village. The wound burned as if touched by fire. It burns still. ...

The white figure stood there still. I remember it did not have a look of pity on its face

It said, "All tribes make your choice in the end, Therrien son of Berron. Seek me if you wish. I will await you. I am sure we will then find we share more than words." And then it disappeared.


I am holding my sword by the blade now. Blood runs down between my fingers.

I limped back to the village. The woods were silent, but the lanterns still burned. As I stepped into the glade, I knew. Every member of my tribe lay rigored in death. Each had a single burned slice at the base of the neck, though none appeared to have run. It was as if each had died at precisely the same moment.

I found my father under the Great Beech tree. He had been dealt with.... differently. He was burned from neck to feet, the charred flesh appearing darker than black, seeming to drink the light. Only his face was spared, and it was clear he had been in agony at the time of his death.

I shed no tears and wasted no time. I gathered his longbow, sword, and knives, and ran into the Wild. I remembered every minute of the next two centuries as I have ranged throughout the Wild and eventually beyond in search of the Half-Man wizard. I remember every monster I have slain in my journeys as I grew in skill with sword and bow. I remember the moments in battle when I shriek and bear down on an enemy and feel a chill of recognition.

I remember all this and more. But I cannot remember which figure I chose that night."

I look up.

"Here is my rage. There is no balance between dark and light. There was not that night. There was only myself, and the dead."

This late night has been something of a blur. Maybe my rejuvenating bath and sleep did not restore me fully as I first thought, but my mind seems hazy again. The brown bear was a sight, and to see this Orc rage as he did, well... I would have lost that bet. But those are distant memories now, as Therrien's story rings sharply in my ears, as shrill as his whetstone. Burn you, Rhiv! I think to myself This is not about you. But my irritation subsides quickly; a bit of good certainly overcame something in me, and I cannot blame him for preaching. It is his way.

"Aye, Rhiv speaks true enough. I know not of this reason, but good can overcome." I feel a bit trite. This is not my forte. I feel the eyes of the room move towards me. I should not have spoken, it is as if they expect something of me. There is much to say, but I do not want to take from Therrien's night. I will save my stories for a more private evening; as I suspect we are being listened to in such a place... and I am weary.

After taking in Brother Therrien's haunting tale, I can only sit in silence. "My heart aches for your tribe my brother." My admiration has inadvertently opened a deep wound in the elf, and yet his telling only made me admire him more. I regret that I have no worthwhile answer to his lament about the lack of balance between dark and light.

I acknowledge Rhiv's advice: "Brother Rhiv, your point is taken well. But I always fear to act when I don't know what I will do. It is for that reason that I must thank you for keeping me from acting rashly a second time at the Lord's manor. Your leadership and judgment has kept us alive more than once."

"And now the hour is late and the candles are burning low. But if you will I feel we should speak with Rowena before we retire." I reach into my satchel to remove the diadem. I pause before taking it out, and scan for the room's reaction, my questioning gaze resting in the end on Harper.