there was an awkward silence between us. i watched kythan out from the corner of my eye. i was careful not to look at him directly prefering to put up pretense of having a worthwhile conversation to whoever was beside me. i was at first amenable to the idea of going back home but now knowing what i could potentially lose everything. everything that i have dreamed of. i am threatened. i knew that kythan was looking at me. i will not yield. i will not go back if it means .. i do not want to go there. i should not even have these thoughts. i should focus on the present. i need to be out here where i count.
when kythan describe the drow plot, i was first to speak.
ces drows qu'est-ce qu'ils veulent possiblement avec sandpoint?
(what do they possibly want with sandpoint?)
several of the women in the chamber howled in disbelief. and others, notably farmers or of the sort, who knew nothing of the world outside openly threw down their disapproval as if their will mattered at all. others knew nothing of drows. the chilren began to cry. gripped with mixed emotions, the room simmered for a few more moments.
what could they possibly want of sandpoint. kythan repeated outloud in the common tongue. the room went silent. everyone wanted to hear what the eladrin had to say.
(kythan explains here)
guillaume: the meet
guillaume: star of ill omens
i opened my eyes and felt the rumbling of the then calm waters. the uneasy bob of the rowboat awaken me from my meditation. i often go out boating just by myself. i enjoyed the solitary experience of just my voice in my head to keep me company. and a few times i even delude myself into thinking that corellon himself is talking to me when really it is just me. i heard shouting of the townsfolk back at shore. i see them, tiny little figures from where i was at, line up and point to the skies. i looked up and saw death and destruction.
it was a meteor. a fiery death sentence that divided the clear sky across and pass sandpoint. i thanked corellon that it went down far but perhaps not far enough. i may not be a seasoned seafarer but i knew all to well what was happening. the waters receded. i quickly grabbed the oars and paddles deeper into the sea with not a moment to loose.
i have read about it from ancient scrolls about giant waves that decimate entire cities. i didn't give it much thought at that time except that it was just a poet's way of bringing poetry to an otherwise mundane event. i did not expect that i would have the luck (or more aptly bad luck) of experiencing it first hand.
here i was sitting on a little row boat paddling for my life. but what of the towns people, my heart sank when i saw the destruction. the shore was littered with disarrayed boats and houses that have collided. i distinctly hear distant and scattered screams of the lost and the dying. i could not just stay offshore but what could i do. what could anyone do ..
guillaume: strange days at sandpoint
"father guillaume! father!"
"wha .. ?!" have i really awaken or am i still dreaming. i seem to rememeber vivid details of it. some happy memory of my childhood spent with my cunning cousins back home or was it about something else, some dark looming memory that ebbed gradually until nothing of it remained except the knowledge that i was dreaming. the steady pounding and murmurs of several voices behind my bedroom door continued.
i stood up from the bed and secured the knot to my robes before opening it. i squinted from the barrage of light that came in.
it was several of the peasants each holding out a lamp. familiar faces notably regulars to the service. they flooded the opening with their anxious faces. noone spoke. but instead, they all looked to me expectantly as if i knew the answers to everything.
i had enough to sense to hold out a finger to hush them to silence.
"not here" i whispered with tiny hint of a groan at the end. "several of the acolytes sleep here as well. i do not want to DISRUPT their night's rest" i pointed to the dark hall way to the right where indeed we could hear from behind a door at the far end, several of the acolytes snoring. guilt was something common amongst the clergy as a means to manipulate the laity into doing something we wanted. personally, i never liked the practice. it seemed underhanded. but tonight i felt compelled.
i lead them out to the grand marble stairs outside the temple of corellon. i looked up to see the bright moon high up in the clear sky, the shadow mysteriously absent since early that afternoon.
"it must be midnight" i broke the silence of our little field trip. it must be very serious. these peasants would not bother me at this hour if it was not. i thought. the peasants stood quietly unsure if they were now permitted to talk.
"how can i help you?" becoming a little impatient
and in an instant i knew that my night's rest would have to wait and that these peasants for all their naivete had a torrent of strange happenings around town.
we require the council of the town elders for this - was all i could think of.
Guillaume: The Blot
i proudly surveyed the growing congregation. it has not been that long since the goblin invasion. now, more humans have accepted the one true faith. there were a handful of elves, a couple of dwarves and i dont think i have ever seen any halflings inside the temple premises save the one who appears to have gotten "lost" but was lead to the right exit just in time. to make certain that all of the lesser races are accepted and welcomed to the church of corellon, i took a couple of humans as sacristans to the services, garbed in elaborate robes carrying the sweet smelling incenses that i just ordered. the humans seemed more impressed by the pageantry but if it yields faith. i think it could never go wrong.
a week has passed since the strange shadow in the sky has appeared. many of the women who attended the church has come to me for advice. they pester me with silly superstitions. of course, i expected it of the lesser races. i assured them though that whatever it is. wether or not it exists to do evil, surely corellon will protect us from it. that same night i came out and observed it secretly from church bell tower.
i grew worrisome.
Guillaume: Nualia, Round 4
We can't last like this. I see everyone make their best effort to attack her.
She is stronger, no doubt more powerful, more agile and tougher than anything that we have encountered. Except maybe that tiny little demon at the glassworks factory.
But we have one thing she doesn't have. Numbers. We had each other and blessed Corellon. He will not forsake those who follow his path. This is a battle between good and evil. Good must win. The pain I and my friends are enduring will never crush us. Might have been sheer determination. Or perhaps behind everything, Lord Corellong is lending me his strength. Which ever the case maybe, the realisation has turned this fight into a religious experience. (Second wind) My limbs despite the lost of blood and exhaustion felt stronger
I glance towards the others who all seemed on the verge of collapsing as well. There was no time to waste. I had to decide quickly. Who amongst them was capable of turning the table. It was the dragonborn! A creature of strong faith just like me. I point to him and asked the great lord to lend the paladin strength just as he did with me. The paladin glowed faintly and some of his wounds disappeared.
And beyond him I see the demonness flail wildly. her deadly claws tore at my friends.
"You know you are defeated. I can see it in your eyes. You are outnumbered. Nothing can save you now." I shout from across the room. And I imagined her face changed for a second or two. Did I just see remorse?
Once again I called upon the sacred fire. She burned ardently. When the divne fire was expunged, I reeled over to my side. In seized at the wall to keep from falling. I feel her poison bit deeper.
Guillaume: Nualia, Round 3
Two arrows dug deep behind me.
I almost fell on my knees from the stabbing pain. One of the arrows got broken from the crest from my attempt to pull it out but it was too painful. I squirmed.
I observed the part which broke off. the fletching were decorated feathers which looked rather familiar. "JAREK le traitre !!" my thoughts silently cried havoc. I turned without hesitation and saw him nocking another pair (of arrows). he had an unusual smirk on his face, horrific eyes which turned all black as the eyes of the demonness, and was prepared to shoot.
I knew that I would not be able to reach Jarek in time. And Nualia, despite all my efforts, seemed unfazed.
i fixed my eyes on the démon. "purgez ce mal!"
the familiar apparition of a knightly eladrin woman became evident, possessing the sacred fire held both in her hands. she looked at me briefly, allowing me to observe her remarkable beauty. her face is perfect. more beautiful than any eladrin face of any man or woman i have ever seen. her eyes almond shaped reflected a wavering image of my surroundings.
she floats away like smoke and turned to face nualia. she bobbed for a second or two carefully making aim, before taking the plunge. she collided directly with nualia causing a reverse polarity - an explosion of divine fury.
Guillaume: Nualia Round 2
nualia advanced.
i was astonished to see the she knew (a form of) fey stepping - a gift i thought granted solely to corellon's children. the thought of it being used by a demon no less disturbed me deeply. how could she have learned?? .. and then and quite unexpectedly, the abomination 'fey stepped' beside me. i quickly raised by longsword to defend myself, to parry her offensive cuts but she was too agile. i was clearly defeated and on the verge of collapse when she moved to another target. she was relentless.
i grabbed by bloodied arms to stop the blood from spilling any further when she then released her fury -- the black plague. i couldn't breath for a while, coughing and consequently inhaling the putrid poison. i flinched in pain. my wounds throbbed as i consciously felt the black poision continue its descent passed my body's defenses, making it's way to the heart.
it was easy to just let it all go. the thought shamefully did came up. just give up! the voice plead. the call of heaven seemed so near and yet so far. forget duty?! you deserve to rest now. images of heaven stimulated further the desire to abandon the despair and pains of this world and into the next where, life promises to be complete and free of wars and worries.
i must have be hallucinating. i concluded. the vision then turned to images of death and desctruction. of things of what might be if nualia wins. i could not let it happen. i will NOT let it happen. i suddenly gained momentum and focused all my thoughts and energies onto nualia.
"soyez parti démon!!" i commanded her.
a thick shaft of celestial light sprang from where she stood. a silent apparition of long-forgotten queens and kings became recognizable. all were looking down and surrounding her, with pity and contempt in their faces. they all point to her with judgement and retribution, having in mind the long list of evils she had given birth to. guilt consumes her completely as the sun scorches.
she screams in agony.
Guillaume: Nualia
"what do you hope to gain nualia?" i urged nualia to explain her actions hoping that it gives everyone time to think about how we are going to stop an obviously formidable foe such as her. she's not even afraid that we outnumber her.
"you wouldn't understand priest. or maybe you would." nualia retorted with maniacal amusement but abruptly stops short of laughing. "everything will be destroyed!"
i try to talk nualia out of it even though my mind's settle that such an attempt is futile. nonetheless, all souls are must be given the chance at redemption. i gave her a stern warning "you seek revenge .. but know, that nothing good can come of it. as the saying goes, evil turns upon itself."
it was clear that nualia is consumed with anger and revenge. might this be her weakness? i wondered how to turn this weakness to our advantage. i started to pray.
dieux de l'arcane. dieu de la nature. dieu de toutes les fées dans le monde. bénissez-nous mon seigneur pour que nous pouvons détruire notre ennemi.
cast ::bless::
Guillaume: Tsuto's End
Was that possession? I was thrown to perplexity and terror. I have learned of evil entities and what they are capable of, but to see possession firsthand (if that was what we are seeing) brought icy chills in my bones. Not a second sooner, I challenged the entity with every amount of courage I could muster.
"Begone démon! I banish thee in the name of Corellon!" while holding out the symbol. But it was futile for it was gone as bluntly as it appeared like a thief in the night. It stole our brief sense of victory. It stole Tsuto's life. I felt helpless. We all did.
Rhonna was first to his side. She embraces Tsuto by his head which now lay lifeless on her lap. She weeped feverishly. The abrupt finality of Tsuto's fate bears heavy on each of us especially since I thought his capture might even bring about a new leaf for him. But with his death, my hope for him at least in this life, is diminished. I touched her shoulders to calm her but there were no words.
I sat beside them both. I poured some santified oil on a clean article of clothing, a partial piece that might have seen better days as a hankerchief. I asked everyone to gather around.
I anoint Tsuto on his forehead and recited his last rites. Tsuto. Restez en paix.
Guillaume: The Chapel, Aftermath
Tsuto was innocent looking unconcious. I observed his pallid face while finishing his bandages. He was much older to look at from the creases under he's eyes and on his forehead. It was hard to believe that he was the same age as Lloyd and Gryffin.
I wiped the last smudges of blood from his face and wondered what could turn a man against his family, his home, his friends. It must have been deeply traumatic. And yet for others, they rise to the challenge of adversity and endure rather than .. I can't think of the words.
I thought with pride of my own experience, being different growing up and ultimately a pariah in my own family. And then finding hope in my faith to the one true god. Perhaps you can find hope too Tsuto. The voice in my head silently spoke.
L'espoir existe toujours
Guillaume: The Chapel Round 3
i watched tsuto handled the paladin with ease, employing complicated but specific techniques at disarmament. i remained concentrated on bringing him down. i unsheathed my longsword from its scabbard. i called on corellon to aid me.
"seigneur corellon brulez et purgez ce mal. purifiez son ame pour lui faire voir la lumière!" my longsword burst in blue flames. i jolted it so that the burning inferno flew towards tsuto who screamed in pain on contact. i wanted to make him see that we were serious.
i make my final approach.
"you will never win. you fall into the hands of justice once again and this time .. it is for good." i held the longsword out at sword point, firmly pressing at his back.
"surrender tsuto i mean it." i threatened.
Guillaume: The Chapel Round 2
"He flees!" Rhonna screamed at the top of her voice.
"After him!!" Lloyd, Arao, and Griffyn all spoke in unison.
Tsuto runs as fast as he could. Once he exits the chapel’s main doors, he headed north. He sprints along a short corridor and into a medium sized room. Various alchemical devices, books and scrolls littered the room. Tsuto knew his way around the room but still had to be careful not to topple any of the instruments in fear of setting up an explosion or much worse.
The half-elf was almost into the room when a faint shimmering glow appeared in front of him and a figure started to materialize – it was the fey priest, Guillaume.
Guy stood blocking his escape. and with every defiance he could muster, he ordered Tsuto to go back.
"Return!" Guy's voice boomed that might have shattered glass. He looked down on Tsuto who seemed suddenly small and insignificant. An aura of immense power and greatness surrounded Guy as he points and commands Tsuto back thru the doors and into the Main Chapel where the rest of the party are waiting ...
Guillaume: The Chapel Round 1
the opened door reveals the chamber and our enemies. i instinctively began to chant - a prayer for courage, strength and hope.
"grand seigneur et createur de l'univers. je vous implore. guidez nos coeurs, nos esprits, et nos mains pour que ensemble, nous battrons ce mal"
the song was short and quiet. lingering. it touched and filled the hearts and mind of every ally. i see each, take deep breaths as if the magic in working itself out individually, mentally prepares them to the impending battle.
but in my mind's reality, i am sole witness to the tiny eladrin cherubs with curly silver and shimmering hair and tiny little wings fluttering behind them, appear -- one for every ally floating just above each ally's head. each carrying a wand which they cheerfully wave to and fro showering my allies with divine magic dust.
"fear not my friends. the lord of all fées is with us!" i loudly called out to strike fear on our enemies.
Guillaume: The Offer
"i am certain the people will be greatly indebted to you. and i will approach the mayor and personally give you commendation if you decide to help us thwart this evil." although i can see, from the look on orik's face, that this argument fails to appeal to his sentimentality or even his honor.
"sandpoint citizens have never been known to be .. (pause slightly to put emphasis to but also to think of the right word to describe it) "ungenerous" about their gratitude." i quickly reinforced my argument which did seem to spark the interest to turn over to our side.
i played with my symbol made of quarts and other rare blue stones, while making my appeal, which caught some of the little light that lingered in the chamber. it twinkled incessantly, beguiling the young mercenary to review his situation.
[diplomacy roll]
feeling guilty about what appears like underhandedness on my part, i quickly make a mental note of contrition, perhaps later when time allows it. or if i am still alive that is. i do it for the people of sandpoint. victory means a fresh new batch of the faithful for the church. i don't want to think of the alternative of this dreamed reality, what would happen if we lose .. no more negative thoughts. i must purge myself of pessimism.
Guillaume: Orik Vancaskerkin
"Are you more of that woman's minions?! Or maybe you're here to kill her!!" Orik's eyes narrowed in tepid suspicion raising his voice on the last note for dry emphasis. His reproach seemed well intended though as I observed him from behind the dragonborn's broad shoulder.
I am uncertain why but I felt quickly at ease with this one.
I quietly made my approach, halting at a comfortable space between us. "Then my friend, father corellon - lord of arcana that of mystery and spring that of new beginnings, must have guided you to us for we seek the same goal." I smiled devoid of hostility back at the stranger.
"I am Father Guillaume, Priest Of Corellon." I bowed low.
"Our meeting gives us an imperative." I turned around to face my friends and back to Orik. Their faces were painted with uncertainty.
"We must join forces. My Lord must have willed it."
"same goal? and what goal would that be father?"
i remained bowed but was taken aback by Orik's curious response. what?!
"why .. to arrest the menace brought upon the world by the (harpy) woman of course" i start to step backward as it becomes clearer that Orik might not be what I thought he was - the reinforcement I prayed for.
guillaume: the rope bridge
when we have crossed the bridge we found a safe and hidden spot where we can discuss our plans.
"maybe we need to send a scout. have a look around first before going in." i interrupted the dragonborn while absent mindedly polishing my holy symbol with my sleeves. ".. or wait 'til we have cover of darkness?"
"only goblins see well in the darkness priest" he counter-argued with hint of annoyance in his course voice. "why dont everyone keep quiet for now and give me time to think".
with that i left the dragonborn to his thoughts. it must be difficult for him being the leader of the group. i can only give him support at whatever he decides. he is a good man. i realise this. he must be thinking about jarek. where is he?
i continued to wipe clean my symbol and pulled and patted my robes to get rid of the dust and creases here and there. i chuckled to myself realizing the futility of my actions. it will just get dirty and dirtier, all over again.
a few minutes later i noticed lloyd's hand pressed against his other arm. there was blood on it. "how come you didn't tell me you were hurt" i questioned him a bit upset. i crawled towards him and took his arm. lloyd hesitated and quietly groaned in pain.
"let me look at it. it is my job to look after everyone in the group lloyd." i eyed him with suspicion wondering why he kept it hidden this secret. i see that familiar look on his face. that look of pride and aversion from asking for help.
"it doesn't make you any less of a man to ask for help lloyd. we need you to be strong and as agile for the battle that is to come" i lectured without intending to. i remind myself of superiors whom i secretly despised. i didnt like being treated like a child. and here i am now doing the same thing with lloyd. i must have picked it up during the course of my studies and living with them for a long while.
i see lloyd narrowed his eyes from embarassment. "you have strength master lloyd. you will be fine" i quickly uttered as a way of recompense.
we were seated facing each other to form a small circle. i have no idea for how long have we waited for a plan from arao. i busied myself by redoing and placing some more bandages and sang prayers to corellon to heal lloyd of his wounds. but my mind was safely back at the abbey, away from all of this. the wilderness, the goblin stench, the course sands against my skin, the threat of dying, the threat of knives and all sorts of dangers.
i was indeed back at the abbey where it is clean and quiet, and taking a long hot bath ..
Guillaume: The Fire Pelt Cat Attacks!, Round 03
i had just warded off an attack. my breathing was deeper from exhaustion or maybe from being inside the tunnel of thistles too long.
upfront, i glanced at the half elf who spun in a intricate dance wielding the points of his blades with great speed in continues circles and jabs, cutting his target to pieces. it was MAGNIFICENT. i swore joyful praises in corellon's name. i have never seen its equal outside of the royal legions.
"all (good) races are truly capable of art in every form." i was grateful to have witnessed it, fleeting as it was, without permanence as one finds in architecture, sculptures, or paintings. but perhaps its lack of permanence is what makes it more precious. i smiled in self-contentment.
inspired by this display of expertise, i was moved to sing.
créateur de l'univers. je vous implore la victoire sur nos ennemis. détruisez-les mon seigneur .. détruisez-les ..
the noble eladrin knight from earlier, reappears on top of his warhorse. the warhorse leaped, it's silvery mane flowed and moved like water, its front hooves raised prepared to pounce. the knight waves at me with his shield arm before commanding his stead to finally plummet, his silver lance turned towards the remaining beast dog.
Guillaume: The Fire Pelt Cat Attacks!, Round 02
this is it. a fitting end to a traitor. pessimism takes hold of me.
my back is pressed against the sandy floor. it did cushion my fall, to which i am grateful, as the powerful maw bore through a portion of my thigh. blood exploded. the taste of eladrin blood must have caused it to a deeper frenzy as i felt its teeth bit deeper. there was no pain --- not yet.
for now i am another person, an observer looking down on someone else disattached from reality. i vacantly watched myself and the others. this is likely what the mind does to protect itself.
"watch out!" lloyd catapulted two of the beasts simultaneously a few yards away from him. I then sensed being pulled back to my person and the previous feeling of apathy was replaced with urgency.
"do something!" was that for me? or was it for someone else? everything is happening so fast. it was chaos.
my arms were raised to protect my head from the claws. i couldn't go down with a scar? i chuckled to myself at the thought. it took all my strength to raise my arms. my limbs were covered with the animated vines preventing me from moving much. certain that it was a gift from the shaman.
from inside this transient cocoon, i managed to make sense of things. i could not afford to show weakness. i am a follower of corellon. courage. i must have courage. instinctively, i blinked myself out of the beast's grip. popping out of it and popping in to a relatively safer place -- behind the bloodied dog that is beside rhonna.
i tried to stand up this time, i held up the blessed symbol which clung around my neck. i focused on the beast and i called upon corellon. "corellon. pere de toutes les fées. exaucez ton fort. exaucez votre lance de la foi!"
an orb of pure warm light becomes apparent before me and it took the shape of a noble eladrin knight on horseback. it carried a shield decorated with the tradition symbol of corellon accentuated with fleur de lys at the edges and a silver lance as long as three men. it gave me a respectful nod before galloping forward towards the unsuspecting beast. it growled hungrily at rhonna ready to pounce at the woman.
the lance ripped thru the beast's thigh which quickly flared and dissipates, leaving nothing behind but a deep wound. the beast slowly turned to me. its mouth filled with sharp knives, hatred in its eyes.
Guillaume: The Fire Pelt Cat Attacks!, Round 01
Guy could do nothing but raise his arms to cover his face. The dogs had large sharp teeth like knives which lacerated Guy's arms. It swiftly overpowerd the eladrin cleric. Their claws dug deep into his flesh inflicting serious injuries. Guy did not have time to react to the pain, occupied with the source of the command to release the hounds.
"Hidden in the forest lies the voice that rules the beasts" Guy murmurs as he manages to safely fall back. His longsword raised hoping to fend off the naturally aggressive beasts.
"We are surrounded?!!" Rhonnadel's earthy feminine voice carried a hint of panic. "Thanks for the update." Gryffin prattled, his brow raised.
"Mon seigneur, aidez-nous" It was more like a plea in between gasps of pain, rather than a standard prayer the cleric was used to. But the essence of what he needed was answered. The symbol briefly glowed rich and warm and his wounds were no more.
Unfazed by the ambush Arao commanded "Stand your ground. Pelor is with us."
Guillaume: Ancient Prison, Round 01
