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| | ''*Shadaar begins to shift uncomfortably again and walks to the nearest window stretching his limbs.*'' | | ''*Shadaar begins to shift uncomfortably again and walks to the nearest window stretching his limbs.*'' |
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| − | == BELAL ==
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| − | [assume that this conversation continues following the time that all become aware of Shadaar's "condition" as Ungral...]
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| − | the old beast sits at the cage for which Shadaar has been shackled... he sits for a good long time without a word, knowing that sometimes the best an advisor can give is to just be there when the pain is at it's greatest. Just listening or sitting to offer an ear is often better than any flowery words.
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| − | Some 10, 15, 20 minutes stream by as the little imp toys with tools twisting braids of rope into some complex pattern, perhaps remembered from the first Sarcosan horsemen or possible those of elven-kind in the wood of the Erethor... It hands a portion of the little craft into the cage, his spindly arms reaching farther in than most others could. Belal smiles as he has watched Shadaar's toying with the lock to the cage intermittenly...
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| − | Then after some time he speaks, this time much less abrupt. His words flowing from the sound of silence...
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| − | '''''".......brighter times.... if memory forsakes you, if screams cloud your ears perhaps we can remedy that. When you hear the wails, I offer my ear good-friend. If what the necromancer (Kyuad) says is true, you have become as Fell. Undead but not yet lost. The term is Ungral. That is now your race and culture. Some may tell you friend-Shadaar that that way is nothing but madness and malice. I say that this is the time that you make your own way in the world. If you forget your past, then let it be gone. You must make a glorious time of the next day and forgive your lost time. I have known hundreds of different types of beings and all had a choice to make. Some will tell you that they do not... That orc are born and bred to serve Shadow. Yet I would remind you that that is not always do..."''''' As the imp looks up to the above level on which Durgaz can be seen looking into the sky.
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| − | '''''"... Let us then make new tales Lord-Shadaar. But this cage takes your spirit, have I friend-Shadaar ever told you the tale of the Heritage of Eredane..."''''' and Belal begins as story to comfort his new friend.
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| − | '''''"...During the First Age, the ancient kingdoms of the elves in Erethor and the dwarves in the Kaladruns were the greatest civilizations of Aryth. The heartland was home to scattered clans of nomadic halflings and gnome river folk, but much of it was untamed wilderness. Eredane was again invaded in the Second Age, this time by the conquering armies of Sarcosa, the Old Empire of Pelluria. The Sarcosan Empire was a great civilization of advanced knowledge and science. They brought steel swords, great war machines, and sophisticated warcraft to Eredane, and they were the first to introduce horses and mounted knights to the continent. The Sarcosans battled the elves, cutting and burning deep into the fringes of Erethor. Settlers from the Old Empire poured into Eredane, and the Sarcosans built great cities along the southern coasts. They eventually made peace with the elves and began trading with Erethor and the Kaladruns, carving great roads across the newly tamed wilderness. With their hold on the southern regions of Eredane secured, the Sarcosans turned their attention to the Dornish kings in the north. After years of war, the Dorns were finally beaten and the northland kings surrendered their crowns to the lords of the southern cities."'''''
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| − | '''''"Despite their defeat, the Dorns’ might was not broken, and in time, they joined with the Sarcosan colonial lords to throw off the rule of the Old Empire. When a great imperial armada was destroyed at the island fortress of Stormhold, the Old Empire’s power in Eredane came to an end. The Dorns and the Sarcosan colonial lords created a unified kingdom called Erenland that ruled over the heartland of Eredane. Rule of the Kingdom of Erenland was shared by great houses tracing their lineage to both the Sarcosan colonial aristocracy and the Dornish clans. The greatest cities of Erenland, including the capital, were always in the south. These were the civilized jewels of the kingdom, with fabulous palaces, monuments, and wondrous star towers dedicated to the Sarcosan religion. The descendants of the Dorns, known as the Old Kings or the Northmen, held to their traditions as well. Their castles were simple stone keeps and holdfasts, and they continued to worship their ancestors in sacred circles of standing stones built millennia ago by the first Dornish settlers in Eredane. The heartland of Erenland is dominated by the common folk who share a mixed Dorn and Sarcosan heritage. In the Third Age, they were farmers, herdsmen, and craftsmen and lived lives of simple prosperity and peace in their bountiful land."'''''
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| − | '''''"The peoples of Eredane know little of the lands that lie beyond our seas. Some say the elves of the First Age traveled to all the corners of the world, but even if such legends are true, this lore was almost certainly lost in ages past and was never shared with the wise of other nations. What little we know comes from the records of Dornish and Sarcosan settlers who traveled to Eredane from the eastern continent known as Pelluria in ancient days. Sadly, these records are often little more than folktales and must be held suspect in the light of reason. I believe that Pelluria is a land of greater aspect and extension than Eredane, as “a youth shall gray and come to infirmity before crossing the breadth of the Kalif’s dominion.” Even allowing for the excesses of a culture known for its vanity and embellishment, this suggests a vast continent unconstrained by the great oceans that embrace our land on three sides. Nor is there reason to believe that the “Kalif’s dominion” ever covered all the realms of Pelluria. It is known that the Sarcosan Empire conquered the Dornland river valley in the north. It is believed, however, that the fall of the Old Empire in the Third Age had as much to do with a war against a rival power in the east as with internal decay and the loss of its overseas colonies in the west. The Dorns describe their ancestral home as a land of cold, rugged hills, glacial valleys, and deep, snow-laden forests. In the Sarcosan records, I learned of vast grasslands, endless deserts, and great cities of stone built in the oldest days by the first men of Aryth. The elder races of the fey are unknown in these lands, but the stories speak of stranger peoples that share no blood with the elder fey, of fearsome races that hate all others and feed on the flesh of men. Tales of serpent people and beastmen must be considered little more than fables told for the benefit of wayward children."'''''
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| − | '''''"It is the Sorshef Sahi that say the duty of all men to excel, and he who does not improve his station will die honorless and without value. The worthy man will ride forever with the Heavenly Host, but the sheol is doomed to walk alone in the dark places."'''''
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| − | '''''"The wars with Izrador spawned many great heroes from all the races. The memory of these champions helps to keep the faith among human insurgents and inspire fey defenders who still battle the Shadow today, and some say the strength they gave in the fight against Izrador persists in the weapons they used. I remember walking with Elenial, an elven girl whose family was killed in the orc raid on Althorin, killed 27 raiders with a single arrow. Sneaking through the burning remains of the town with only one arrow left in her quiver, she would shoot an unsuspecting warrior, watch him die, and then sneak to the corpse and recover her shaft undamaged. She did this time and again, until the entire orc host huddled together in fear and set to hunting her. It is said she killed their leader with her final shot, just before they cut her down. Still today, elven archers running low on arrows recite her name as they loose their flights, asking her boon in guiding their aim. The quiver of Elenial, should one be able to find it, is rumored to never run out of arrows. And there was my friend Puldur, a great dwarven weaponsmith and a stalwart warrior to whom countless fantastic exploits have been attributed. One of his best known feats is the Long Duel of Hanigor Pass. The last survivor of Hanigor’s defensive unit, Puldur held it alone for three days and three nights against an orc raiding party numering in the hundredst. The songsmiths say that in days past, when the orcs still had some semblance of pride and honor, they could be goaded and challenged to single combat; this is what Puldur did, they say, a hundred times and more without rest, holding that cold, lonely ground. Individually, the orcs were no match for Puldur’s stamina or the mithral axe he wielded, and he took them one after another. By the dawn of the second day, the bodies were piled so high they blocked the pass, and the remaining orc fighters skulked away under the cover of darkness. Bards claim it is because of this battle that every mithral axe forged in the dwarven lands is still engraved with Puldur’s clan mark, and it is said that he who wields Puldur’s axe itself can never be defeated in single combat and knows not the meaning of fatigue or despair. And then there was Aio the Light Foot who survived the razing of his village, but everyone and everything he loved was taken that night. Aio was given as a slave to a wealthy legate who wanted a halfling slave to cook his meals. He played the part, but learned to pick the lock on his collar. He stole a knife from the kitchens and snuck into the sleeping orc camps nearby. By the time he left an hour later, there were nine orcs dead in their bedrolls. Aio’s nightly forays continued for several weeks and word quickly spread of his stealth and prowess. Aio himself was eventually captured and executed, yet his blade has found its way into the hands of captive halflings ever since so that they might enact justice upon their captors."'''''
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| − | '''''"... are these the things that warm your unbeating heart, friend-Shadaar? I must tell you I donot care about the lack of beat in your chest. I have known much worse things with and without heart. Anyone that can make me recall the best of times deserves a fair thought and less judgement cast on him as these others look at you for... Don't dislike them for that. They are not long on this land. They fear death. You can choose a different outlook, you no longer need to fear..."'''''
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| − | =='''''XP HAS BEEN AWARDED AT THIS POINT'''''==
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| − | '''''NOTE''': you CAN continue this Bluebook, but please do so ONLY beneath this line or it will NOT be counted for xp. Also note the updated scene description of when/where following this point. Thank you.''
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| − | '''''
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| − | == SHADAAR ==
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