Midnight RPG - Chapter 14.34

Kevin

• [This scene takes place some time after Zal'Kazzir frees the imp, in the time FOLLOWING his introduction "speach" to the group. In the time when you're looking around Vrolk's Laboratory and into the evening when you rest, the little Imp (who has said he is now "bound" to Zal'Kazzir) comes up to you to chat... Think of it as "networking" or "small talk"... hehe...]

NAZIF, as picutred here, naked and possible chilled was found as such captured seemingly as one of "the Vile's" pets or playthings. Once rescued, he quickly found his courtly cloak, rings, jewelry and other accoutrements. While not embarrassed by being without close, any good advisor knows the importance of "looking the part".

SHADAAR's PRIVATE talk with Nazif, Zal'Kazzir's courtesan imp=

"Hello my human friend. T'would I be impolite were I to call you by your given name? Shadaar, is it that your fellow pathwalkers call you? May I speak to you in such a familiar tone?", the small green-gray skinned imp quaries as its eyelids slowly flicker as if the very light beyond its former cage, burns its bulbous eyes... Looking to you in hopes of acceptance...

"I can only hope that you would speak to me in kind. I am Nazif by name, those I call friend know me as the Erenlander's Kin. I am most happy to make your aquaintence. I find it insanely majestic that you have been able to survive throughout your wreched ordeal put upon you by Master Vrolk. How is it you survived? I would be most interested in your tale of triumph in the face of such horror...", Nazif, sits his bottom to the wooden floors that grow unnaturally out of the obsidian gemstone of the Spire. He sits without bending his body, focusing his eyes looking into your's directly. He seems ever-so inquisitive and even aids you when he notices you picking up anything or moving anything.

Shadaar to Nazif

*Shadaar looks uncomfortable and shifts nervously perched on the floor. He then squints his eyes at the imp and seems to calm.*

*Nodding* You may call me Shadaar. I have not seen your kind before, Nazif. *Shadaar slowly circles Nazif curiously, looking at the strange creature.*

*Quietly speaking as he shambles around the imp* Hmm. I have been through much. And I have been forced to do... things here *Shadaar shivers* that I had, before this, thought I was not capable of. *Shadaar shrugs* I suppose I only did what I needed to in order to survive?

*Shadaar perches on the floor in front of Nazif again*

*Seemingly disarmed by the imp's charm* Those you call friend know you as the Erenlander's Kin?

*Shadaar waits for a response and watches everyone in the room intently.*

*And then asks another question.*

How do you find yourself amongst the vile elf's personal effects?

Nazif, newly renamed Banal

seemingly mimicing your movements for a moment the Imp stands walks about in your pattern and then crouches to a settled position, in a spot at a comfortable distance from you as to not make you more anxious...

Forgive, young friend. You seem at ill-odds not able to hold in one position. Was it your time held on the Vile's slab that did this to you or your long roaming of the Black Nail? You speak of 'things' that seem to sit unkind with you that you have been forced to do in order to survive while here in the heart of darkness. I must say ma-lord, do not be ashamed of what you did, who you are or what you may have become or could yet be... Do not take this to heart, hold-fast to your will... Find fault with what THEY made you become and fight them by holding off the darkness that might have consumed your soul were you a lesser creature.

Perhaps you need but a confidant to unwind your tortured soul. What was it then friend that you found yourself committing that you fear others might not understand, least likely your own self? Speak to me as you would a brother in arms, for I too found my way in the grasp of Shadow yet like you I was not encapsilated by it in the end. I have not fallen from the path. We are kin in this way if not in flesh, you and I. Speak to me as such and I will hold your ear with similar comfort... Tell me Shadaar-friend... What troubles you still?

For it is true that I once bore the name of kindness given by a man of Erenland-make. I walked with King Pythian in the Battle of the Three Kingdoms before the dawn of the Second Age.

The tales passed down of the Battle of Three Kingdoms seem like nothing less than myths and legends. In truth, they are not fantastic enough. Divine and arcane magics clashed and rent the sky. Black clouds borne on the foul north wind covered the battlefield with poison and ice. Flights of sorcerous arrows flew so thick they blocked out the sky. Orc blood formed a great dark swamp that mixed with the rivers of red flowing from slaughtered defenders. Dire wolves ripped out the throats of ogres, and giants broke the backs of massive bears. Demons raged across the field attacking anything, mad with bloodlust. The Shadow’s legates cast their spells and hunted the Witch Queen. Aradil’s sorcerous host loosed terrible fires as she stalked Izrador’s generals. The battle was a black nightmare of clashing blades, dying screams, and freezing gore.

The Battle of Three Kingdoms lasted six days. More than 5,000 elves, dwarves, and humans died. Forty thousand of Izrador’s foul creatures were slain. The dark forces broke and fled.

The kingdoms of Eredane were victorious. King Pythian, Rodrick to his kin travelled across the Pellurian Sea against my advocacy, yet I stood by him until the day he could no longer stand. I recall all those times that he gave me his heart and confessed his sins, hoping that by telling them to one of my kind might grant him asylum in hell or the heavens, neither of which I had the heart to tell him I had sway within...

I fled sure death after hearing the last words of the Erenlander King as the surviving Eredane forces spent months hunting down bands of fleeing orcs, killing as many as they could find. They were also forced to destroy the countless Fell that had risen from the bloodiest battlefield in Eredane’s history. These skirmishes and battles took their own toll and many more brave warriors were killed. By winter of the next year, what remained of the orc horde had been driven back into the northern wastes, most of the undead had been destroyed, and a hard-won peace had returned to the lands.

I found my way south, into the jungles of the Erethor where although it was not safe, I did have a freedom not known in years of service to the King. Yet that freedom came with a price. I had lost my friend, son to my friend before him, grandson to anohter friend and great-grandson to my first friend in his line.

So - Yes, Erenlander. You could say that those I called friend, in days gone by, knew me as the Erenlander's Kin. Do you offer the same kindness my friend? the little imp smiles and dips his head with an obvious show of friendly respect for your own line of mankind...

As to how do I found yourself amongst the vile elf's personal effects... I would but say that it seems to be my lot in life to fall into the service of great men... Whether they of evil bent or outside the Shadow's touch. I held and hope to hold company of men that be strong. They may be of elf-flesh, orc-meat, drarven-make, or of humanity's breed. If I am lucky I would find another Erenlander worthy and of strong character to call friend as I watched fall on the ice and blood fields in the North. Could you say that you might be of this stout heart my new Erenlander friend?... The imp speaks with confidence as he grinds his teeth points....

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Midnight: North & South Portal