The Barrier Peaks, CY 610, late Autumn (Malak)

[Chris Chandler]

The air is cold, colder that it had been yesterday. The southern pass is all that is open now, as you prepare for your winter. Your home, modest even in a hamlet, a coarse hunter's shack, had been provisioned weeks past. Now it is the waiting time, the time where wraiths do not roam, where even necromancers sleep. Youth, however, never sleeps.

You smelled them a fortnight past, following a poor map along the first slopes that dare to call themselves mountains. A band united, but for what purpose you could not know. You did not know these youth, did not know their hearts. The tests would come, and they would flee or continue. And continue they did, for your tests proved their worth, and your cold bones, which you had thought might just know start feeling the pains of time, warmed.

It wasn't that the task became any less important. It wasn't as if the spirt of Ambrose was going to leave. These youths venture to the spire to the north and defeat it's new resident, which would allow you to take that next step, to follow the will of Obad-Hai, to bring the sorcerer of Nerull, Loric, to his end.

Gavin, a young, heartstrong man, broad of shoulder if not of mind, sits by Gisele, a quiet priestess of Fharlanghn, who sits across from you, by the fire pit. She looks to you, then to the fading edge of the Barrier Peaks and sighs.

What will you do, Malek? Surely your task is far from over. Where will you begin your travel?

The youth bringing forth more fuel for the pit, Ansom, a respected tracker (as he had seen you once during your tests), smiles and lets a laugh escape his lips, but he does not interrupt. He sits and listens, along with the remainder of his companions, those to which sleep would not come on this quiet night.

Gisele smiles at Ansom, but then bids you answer.

Please, Guardian. Every road has a beginning. Where is yours?

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak takes another log from the stack and places it strategically in the fire pit, breathes deeply of the scent, and smiles to himself as he leans back against the rock which has for so long been the substitute for a chair in which to recline.

Children, oh the wonders and woes of such curiosity! Has it been so long that I have lost my youth here in these forsaken peaks? Still, in these bright eyes, once again I do find hope...

He shakes his head, rousing himself from the thoughts, smiling as if to comfort her, or maybe himself. Long have I guarded the Chalice, my young priestess. And I will grant you the story of that beginning. But first, he turns to Gavin, I must see it for my own eyes. Draw your sword, Paladin, and permit me examine the blade.

Gavin startles momentarily. Then, exchanging glances with Giselle, draws his weapon and, cradling it, passes it across the firepit to Malak. With great care, and even a sense of honor, he takes it, resting it in his lap, and then caressing the blade. Even as his fingers touch the metal, a figure takes begins to form against the brilliant silver background. A Rose, blossoming into vibrant translucent amber at the base, just before the hilt.

Malak's shoulders shake, and the tears begin to run down his face freely. Oh, Ambrose how I regret that I failed you so many years ago! And how many times I will beg your forgiveness! And yet, even in death you have been my constant companion for long years now. How tired you must be, and yet the thought of parting company with you fills me anew with grief.

A faint chuckling stirs in Malak's mind, And so does a Paladin's silver weapon finally lay the mighty Malak low? How many times have I to tell you, you did not fail me! By Pelor's might, we did NOT fail! Malak, my brother, do you not see it? All these long years, you and I have remained alone to guard the Chalice. And now these younglings have come, bringing with them Pelor's blessing for you to release this duty to them.

And tired? Think you not that I relish once more the thought of being joined once more in the fight against evil? This Gavin's heart rings TRUE, Malak! Pelor be praised, he and his companions will be equal to the task! They may succeed where we have fallen. By all that is holy, Malak, show them the Chalice that they may take your place!

Still weeping, Malak shakes his head, Not yet, my friend. Go with them as they complete their task. It will be a final test. Return to me with them, once they have done so, and I will take them to the Chalice.

Malak, you're a stubborn old bastard. But, and the voice in Malak's mind softens, I suppose that stubbornness has saved us more than once. Fine then, I will go with them to the Spire. Once we have returned, then you can take them to the Chalice. And then, my old friend, we will have our teary good-bye. In the meantime, dammit, don't dishearten the children! By the Gods! Bless them and me both with the warmth of your smile and a tale well told!

Blinking away his tears, he looks up meeting eyes with Gavin. So it is true! Ambrose goes with you, now into battle. Take care, young paladin, for you now carry with you the soul of my dearest friend. And his judgment I do trust, and so do I name you Gavin Trueheart. Purposefully, but with a clear sense of reluctance, he hands the blade back to Gavin.

Turning once more to Giselle, he nods, Rouse your companions, and I will tell you the tale, and then you will know of the Chalice.

[Chris Chandler]

Gisele stands, smiles, and moves toward the pavilion tent braced near the cliff side, in a short moment, the shuffling figures of the rest of her companions file out: The plodding form of Renkis, a locksmith and scout from the Iron Hills; the sublimely graceful silhouette of Louisa, a Flanish druid and follower of old Beory; the rank and file step of Bernard, an old mercenary from Furyondy, and the padding of Tu'atha, the panther who claimed Louisa as her cub. They had all retired, but only Renkis had acutally fallen asleep.

We were 'bout to come out, just restin' a might bit, er, sir.

The Guardian is going to tell us of the Chalice, Louisa.

I would like to hear of that, yes.

Gavin, of course, cannot really speak right now. In fact, tears are, indeed, running down his cheeks, but his smile eases his companions. He nods for you to continue.

[MadDogMaddux]

For the next hour, Malak regailed his guests with the collection of stories which told his tale. The young ones shook their head in dismay at the annihilation of his tribe at the hands of the Brotherhood, laughed with him at the antics of Rasputin - the mad monk, and nodded in kindred comraderie as he recounted their first encounters with the curse which still taints the Barrier Peaks.

Gavin wept with Malak as he recounted the events leading to the death of Ambrose, and Gisele watched with a sort of haunted admiration as he recounted the subsequent years of protecting the Chalice from wave after wave of undead, explorers, and mad necromancers.

So long you have guarded these peaks, Guardian. And we have seen the evil that resides here, but can the Chalice really be so great a thing? Why not just remove it to a safer place?

Malak shakes his head and chuckles, his deep baritone voice resonating in the small confines of the shack, I suppose it is time then that I tell you of the Chalice. But you must understand this, I will not take you to it until you have passed your final test. Ambrose and I have agreed. You must finish your quest to the Spire. Once you have completed that task I will show you the path - and even then, only to those willing to bind themselves to its defense.

Malak scans the room, reading both the looks of shock and apprehension as comprehension dawns in their faces.

Settling in, and stoking the fire briefly, Malak begins again, In truth, we do not fully understand the nature or properties of the Chalice. What we do know is that it all began long ago, before the Suel fled the remnants of their kingdom in the wake of the Rain of Colourless Fire. Before they arrived, as we all know, the Flanaess was largely unpopulated except for scattered enclaves of the Flan, here he nods towards Louisa, the Flan were the scattered remains of an ancient powerful empire known as the Ur-Flan.

Several in the group nod, reflecting their understanding of basic history.

As best we can tell, this region was the stronghold of a cult of powerful Ur-Flan necromancers. Over the years I have uncovered some of their artifacts, but by and large the region was picked over. You see, when the Suel came, most of them passed through the Hellfurnaces, but it seems that some came here.

Again, the details are incomplete, but we know this - they were ritualists, and they either overcame the Ur-Flan here, or joined with them. In any event, the results were devastating. Over a thousand years later, you are still witnesses to the after-effects. The ground itself seems to give birth to undead of all kinds, and the region seems to call somehow to those who would seek to delve into the necromantic arts.

Worse, there lies within these peaks locked a power which few have been able to tap, but those who have succeeded have unleashed a fell evil that we had once thought an anomaly - Undead who retain the powers and abilities of the living creature from which they were formed. You have faced some of these, and I am certain you will face more as you approach the Spire.

The blanched faces in the room confirmed what he already knew of their journey. Undead who normally retained no function from their previous life instead manifested skills and abilities from their former lives which gave them a fell and evil power.

We don't know how, but there was a backlash. Perhaps it was the intervention of a well-meaning Deity, perhaps it was summoned forth by an opponent, perhaps it was the byproduct of some fell necromantic magic - but the Chalice was formed.

It is not an item, Gisele, but a place. A pool of pure distilled positive energy with properties that even Ambrose and I have been unable to fully fathom. It simultaneously attracts the evil formed within the region, and destroys all evil that comes into contact with it.

It is for this reason that Loric had captured the children, to steal their innocence to cover himself and so gain access to the Chalice. Malak shakes his head regretfully, We were unable to prevent him from doing so.

What happened?

You know the madmen you encountered? The group nods. They are men and women who came into the Chalice, but who were not worthy. They could not bear the strain of the change and so lost their minds in the transformation. You will remember that they were quite powerful, but you overcame them due to their madness.

Loric....I do not know. I was there, opposing him, but he eluded my shot and entered the pool. Then, he simply dissappeared. I do not know if the Chalice destroyed him or if he had found a way to cover himself with the blood of slaughtered children.

The horror of such an idea causes Louisa to turn slightly green. Malak shakes his head as well.

As for me, I cannot fully explain it, but I became much more powerful. Ambrose as well. By the time we entered the Chalice, the others in our party had gone for help. We never saw them again. Ambrose and I were left to defend it, realizing that if anyone with the wrong motivations were able to enter and withstand it, they would wreak a havoc upon the peoples of the Flanaess that we could not allow.

So, my children. There is much unknown about the Chalice, but if you intend to enter it, you must first prove your worth in this final test - and then you must bind yourself to its defense until such a time as you are relieved of that duty.

As for me...of recent I have been visited by the Shalm in my dreams. When you return from the Spire, I will take you to the Chalice, and then I will enter it again myself. Beyond that I do not know.

[Chris Chandler]

The group of young headstrong sits quietly as you finish your tale. They look to one another and to you in turn, all slowly absorbing just what they will have to do in order to reach the chalice.

Gavin, too, looks to each of his comrades, and when each nods assent, he smiles.

Guardian, we shall prove ourselves worthy of this charge. We shall travel to the Spire on the morrow and purge the evil there. We shall return to you, and relieve you of your duty.

Most of the rest of the group is looking down at the ground. Louisa though, is looking up, to the starts, and she starts a soft song of worship, in the old Flanish tongue, a beautiful melody, tinged with sadness. Gisele matches with a countermelody, higher and in Oeridian, a counterpoint translation of Louisa's lyric. Renkis produces a set of pipes and follows along with Louisa, slow and sad.

The group will continue with a few more songs and then retire.

[MadDogMaddux]

As the group sings, Malak allows himself the pleasure of relaxing and listening - something that has been foreign for him for the last 13 years. And so, despite 13 years of life on the edge,for once he lets his guard down and drifts off to sleep.

[Chris Chandler]

You've never been one for long sleep, and this morning it is no different, but, to your amazement, the youths have awoken earlier. You hear the remnants of the song still in your waking mind and you see the letter, left by Gisele -

Guardian:

Today we travel to the Spire to prove our worth. We shall return to you in good stead, to take the mantle from your weary shoulders. Rest, for I have foreseen that your journey shall not be straight nor brief.

The blessings of yours to ours,

Gisele

Knowing that even the round trip from here to the Spire and back may take a week, what is it that you would care to do to prepare for your departure?

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak puts the note down and steps outside of the hut, scanning his surroundings as if by reflex. The air is chill indeed, but the sun has broken through the clouds and warms him - an omen perhaps.

What now, then? No dreams in the night, nothing. Only the deepest slumber I've had since I can remember entering these mountains!

He shakes his head to clear the cobwebs a bit more, then turns once more into his hut to make a quick breakfast, and then meditate in prayer for over an hour - praying to the Shalm on behalf of these young ones, and seeking guidance.

As the day waxes on, Malak picks up his bow and falls quickly into his routine. By now the intelligent undead know to stay away from this part of the mountains, but many of the mindless ones have a tendency to wander to these parts. Donning his War Quiver, he trots outside and follows a familiar but almost invisible path towards the slopes below. Loping along, he allows his mind to wander, as he often has, but this time his thoughts have more focus.

Either they will return, or they will not. Malak frowns, If they do not, then Ambrose is lost, and I am truly alone. I would call him foolish for it, but....he HAS always had a sort of preternatural wisdom...

Malak lopes on along the ridge line, pausing here and there to peer down into the ravines and valleys. In many places the recent disruption caused by the Children is still evident, and many other places which they have NOT visited yet remain dormant. At one such point, Malak turns to leave when the thought strikes him, They will not know of this place...or many like it! I only discovered them on my hunting forays, and it would have been...quite a boon to have known where are the more common places for them to rise, and where it is safe to gather food. I am no cartographer, but nonetheless, I will have to prepare for them a map to pass on the fruits of my experience.

By mid-afternoon, he has slain and skinned a young mountain goat. The meat he sets over a fire to cook, some to eat and some to jerk, while he stretches and scrapes the skin then sets it on a rudimentary frame to tan. Malak sets the frame next to the fire, and leans back to relax and enjoy the fresh cooked goat. From his vantage point, he can look down into several valleys and ravines, and so he chews his goat thoughtfully, scanning them while he eats.

As if on cue, the clouds pass over the sun, and then Malak sees a dark moving shadow emerge in one of the valleys below. He narrows his eyes and peers down into the valley, determining what it is that has appeared. As he studies it, his frown deepens. Wraith, and an old one too...

Without a second thought for the fire or the map skin, Malak grabs his bow, Jess, and jumps off the cliff, transforming into a small black bat as he falls. Quickly he flutters down to the valley floor to the area where he last saw the wraith. Landing, he transforms once more, but this time into the form of a massive black furred bear, and begins prowling.

[Chris Chandler]

The hunt goes well, leaving you tired and wrought, but in the way of triumph, not fatigue. The wraiths, for it was a covey, sought to ensnare you, but they were unable to overcome the power of the bear. Sleep is still and dreamless under a starless sky.

By the fifth day the skin is ready for use. For five days you have hunted, eaten, and slept along, without the steadying hand of Ambrose at the corner of your dreams. The shuffle of the walking dead does not cease, but it as if the windswept mountains are keeping them at bay.

Something has happened, and those cursed to be among the living seem to find a time for rest, for just a moment. Is this the eye of the storm, or something more severe, you cannot tell, but as the sixth day approaches, and your map finishes drying, you see the youth, a bit more careworn, certainly pushed to their limits, return from spire.

All are accounted for, though all need much rest, but you will notice, as you silently escort them through the pass to the Chalice, that they walk much like you did at the beginning of the week, exhausted and triumphant.

[MadDogMaddux]

As Malak leads them to the Chalice, he studies each of the youth, memorizing their features, their names, and the stories they have shared with them. Silently he commits himself to pray to the Shalm for their strength and well being until his days on Oerth are finished and his appointed rest should come.

The path is winding and broken, Malak picks his way through it nimbly without pausing to break his stride. After a while, he catches himself and silently chides himself for the additional test. No, they've earned a bit of rest. And they will need it in the days to come. There is no need to try them any more. And so he leads them onward, at a slower, kinder pace, allowing his determination and focus to dissolve into relaxation and acceptance.

I told you so, ya wookie! the voice of Ambrose breaks the silence of Malak's mind. Malak stops in his tracks and roars with laughter at the jibe, and turns to the youth.

Let us pause to rest, we are about half-way and there will be plenty of light for your return. He nods to Ansom and flashes his teeth gaily, And even if the dark should come, I trust the eyes of your ranger. Come, sit, and I will share you with some of the tales I did NOT share on our last eve together. Perhaps a few that Ambrose would rue to hear me share? Again he flashes a bright grin at the youth and then realizes the change in his own temperament: Joy has returned to his heart.

[MadDogMaddux]

As the group gathers around, Malak instructs Ansom to prepare a fire, then brings out several strips of fresh meat from his backpack, and sets them to roasting. As the group lunches, he regales them with tales from their adventures and mis-adventures, being careful to include several rather embarrassing moments that Ambrose would certainly omit in the years to come. Malak's relaxed demeanor is contagious and soon, despite their weariness, the group's demeanor changes to something a bit more jovial.

As the meal is finished, Malak reaches once more into his haversack and withdraws the map he has spent the last week preparing, The first years here were, to be frank, somewhat difficult. The area is quite vast, and there is much to be known. Some places are safer for hunting and gathering than others, and some places spawn the undead at a near constant rate. Looking back, it would have been helpful if Ambrose and I had known these things in advance.

Leaning over, he hands the map to Gisele, In this last week, I have sought to impart as much wisdom and guidance as I can in the form of a simple map. I am no magical cartographer, but this should serve you in good stead. When we arrive at the Chalice, I do not know what will befall any of you, or myself, so I will tell you now of the things to come. And for the next hour, Malak briefs the youth on the details of the Chalice and the haunted, tainted grounds of the Barrier Peaks.

The sun is well past its zenith when Malak finally finishes answering questions and gestures for the party to gear up and move on. A few short hours later, they enter a narrow winding ravine, barely wide enough for each of them to enter. An hour later they emerge onto a precipice dominated by a large glowing pool.

[Chris Chandler]

As you complete your description you see Gisele and Renkis scouring the map, muttering softly to each other about known landmarks, smiling at the treasure before them.

There are plenty of questions, to be sure, though all are answered appropriately and to each curious soul's satisfaction. The group is not only still eager to reach the Chalice, but they are now ready.

You emerge onto the precipice and the group immediately spreads out, each in a state of awe that could only be described as euphoria. As a group they begin a soft hymn to Beory, then Fharlanghn, then Pelor, all interwoven and distant as a coming rainfall. The youths begin to dance, Renkis pulling out his pipes for melody. After their song, breathless, full of joyous tears, they run toward you and stop. Gisele, still panting a bit, walks forward, tears streaming from her face.

Guardian. Your stewards are here, here with the spirit of your friend. What shall you have of us 'fore your road takes you from us?

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak shakes his head. I am afraid there is one last test you must face, the test for which I have been seeking to prepare you. Each of you must enter the Chalice and then return to me. If you are whole of mind and heart, you may live and take from me the mantle of stewardship. If you fail this test, here he furrows his brow, and nocks an arrow on his bow. After a brief pause, he glances up to Gavin, I would ask you do me the boon of leaving your Sword behind as you enter. Then return to me and I will gladly give it back. Then you must stand beside me to judge whether each of your comrades has retained their minds, and slay those who have not.

[Chris Chandler]

All of the youth look to you with a cross between mild apprehension and hope. Gavin strides forth, nods and unsheathes Ambrose, handing the sword, grip first, to you.

Thank you.

He strides toward the pool and, without hesitation, steps in. He returns immediately thereafter, wet, a little wide-eyed, and crying.

I... I never knew. I just never knew. I am ready, Guardian. My blade, please.

Gisele smiles and almost hops into the pool when it comes her time. She keeps her woolen dress on as she slowly enters the pool. She too returns immediately, and, too is wet. She, however, is beaming.

I envy you your journey, Guardian, but the road I just took is worth my time spent in your stead.

It takes Ansom a moment to work up to going into the Chalice.

I - it doesn't hurt, eh? Right, let's go then, and I'll see you shortly.

He does, indeed return quickly enough, and, smiling he says to you -

I... I think I can see you now, Guardian.

Renkis takes a moment to take his valuables and sets them aside, including his weapons. He then trips out of his jerkin and breeches, and takes off his hiking boots. He smiles toward Louisa and then runs, jumping into the Chalice.

By Moradin's chipped axe this ought to chill the boooones!

Louisa fights to maintain her own composure and smiles, but does not laugh.

The dwarven locksmith returns happy and hale, wet, and soggy.

I don't think I'll ever be any cleaner, Missy!

Louisa takes that as her turn, and removes her winter cloak, but nothing else. She actually dives in, in a practiced fashion, and returns, smiling, and crying just a bit.

My goodness Renkis, I didn't think it possible.

Renkis nods, as he continues to dress.

Bernard is last, handing over spear, shield, and bow to Renkis. He ties his long hair back into a horsetail and steps in. He emerges out of the pool as quickly as the others, but his eyes are wide, alien. He looks toward Gavin and laughs loudly.

They - you know that they are everywhere? They are beneath us know, feasting on maggots at the spine of the world. They are at the top of the Barrier, their bones like flutes on the wind. They... They... Aiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeee!!!

He trundles out of the Chalice slow, then picks up speed. He is laughing, but hot tears run down his face, and he turns to head out into the mountain.

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak furrows his brow as Bernard first emerges, and winces as he makes the mental connection. With a roar, he transforms into the part-man/part bear and brings his bow to bear. Drawing back on Bessy, he mutters under his breath,Miséricorde! then sets his feet and lets loose a flight of five arrows. Even as he looses the fifth arrow, he turns his head to the others and barks, You must do your duty, no matter how it grieves you!




[Transform to Hybrid, Hunter's Mercy, 5 Arrows (Rapid Shot): +35/+35/+30/+25/+20 Damage: 3d6+20/2d6 fire/1 Con/1 SR]

[Chris Chandler]

The group looks on as their broken companion is cut down by your storm of hunter's shafts. He writhes and screeches, and in the sharp cold of the morning, he steams with heat. His heart bursts and he lies still at last.

Both Louisa and Gisele, who are both nearly bawling, run to Bernard's hot corpse and join hands, praying.

Gavin falls to a knee and begins to pray, as well.

Renkis and Ansom simple look at you sadly, not saying anything.

Louisa, finishing her Flanish prayer curses loudly, and hits Bernard in the bloody chest and she falls over him sobbing! Gisele, also crying, moves past Ansom and Renkis and toward you.

We understand our duty, guardian, it's just... I... They were betrothed. I fear for Louisa's road now, for it shall be dark.

She places a hand on your furred forearm and sighs. She looks back at Renkis and nods. He shakes his head sadly and moves toward Louisa. After a few soft words, she looks up, shakes her head, then concedes to nod. Her travelling robes are now bloodstained, as are you hands and face. Renkins motions to wipe her bloody brow, but she turns her head. She steps away moving toward you. Renkis touches the nearby ground, and Bernard slowly sinks into the stone, forever part of the mountain.

Louisa moves toward you and embraces you, still crying.

Beory's favor over you guardian.

Her tone is flat, and she turns and allows Gisele to walk her over toward Ansom. Renkis finds an appropriate stone, and, after muttering a few more words, places a rune upon it. He places this runestone atop the ground where Bernard fell.

[MadDogMaddux]

As Louisa steps away, Malak collapses to the ground, his bow clattering to the ground beside him. Wordlessly he shudders and heaves deep mournful tears of his own, which soak the fur on his face and run down his chest. Powerlessly, he raises out an arm towards her, longing to comfort but yet realizing that HE is the source of her pain. And so for many minutes he simply weeps, mourning the loss of such bright hope and warmth, mourning the loss of a young life cut too short. And in that moment, 13 years of grief and suffering wash over him as if an endless deluge. 13 years of unbroken nightmare, 13 years of exhausting vigilance, 10 years of solitude and guilt.

It is too much for the great bear/man and he all but collapses into the aching hole of grief into which he has fallen. Where is the hope we embraced so recently? And where is the joy? Was it an utter lie? Cannot the Gods extend but one mote of grace to the hope of youth? Why? Damnit! Why must these things be so cruel, so cold!


Finally looking up, he shakes his head, still shuddering, and reaches out to Louisa, speaking through his tears, F....Forgive me...I beg you!...or slay me. I ask one or the other, please....

[Chris Chandler]

Louisa cannot look to you, but she speaks -

There is nothing to forgive, Guardian. You did what was necessary. I shall mourn, and I am angry, true, but... there cannot be life without pain. Beory teaches this to all women, and sometimes to men as well. Go in peace, Guardian.

[MadDogMaddux]

For many minutes, Malak does not move, and there is nothing but silence on the plateau. Finally he stands and turns to Gavin, and nods.

This is not the fond farewell I had hoped for, Ambrose, but it seems our lives are fated to be tainted by doom.

Aye, wookie. Nontheless, go with Pelor's blessing. Er....where'll you be going?

That I know not, only that I am to enter the Chalice once more.

Be well, Malak. You have been a worthy friend to me. P'raps we'll share a flaggon together some day.

Ambrose, I love you like a brother. I will miss you, and cherish your memory always.

Bah, shuttup you sentimental old goat! Yer just walkin' into a lake! Who knows, maybe nothin' will happen. Now GO!


Thank you, Gavin. He turns to Gisele and the others, And thank you each. May the Blessing of the Shalm be upon you.

Steeling himself, Malak turns and, picking up Bessie, wades into the Chalice.

[Chris Chandler]

Louisa and Gisele begin singing a old Oeridian hymn, a blessing of Obad-Hai, though neither seemed to revere the Shalm, and Renkis pipes you toward the Chalice. Ansom notches an arrow and aims it to arc far over the cliff face, following your own path. The arrow flies, sparking a bit as it catches the cold air and falls out of sight.

May your path be as the arrow; though you may not know the path, let it be true.

You put foot to the Chalice and step in and the darkness takes you.


You are standing in a field of wheat, your mother behind you. You can see a summer storm approaching, the sky black in the distance.

Come away dear, this is no time to be out. Your father will return from the hunt 'morrow's eve.

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak turns to see his mother, "Mama?" he shakes his head, "No! He's not coming back!" With that, Malak turns to run into the field.

[Chris Chandler]

You run in the wheat for what seems an eternity for a young child. The wheat is so tall that once you near the center, you can no longer see. Your mother patient watches from her vantage as you run haphazardly through the field. Even through your fear and tears you keep looking back at your mother.

Suddenly her serene face is twisted in concern. She runs toward you and shifts into the loping form of a great bear and pounds toward you. You do not know what is happening, and then you feel and hear the rapid thunder of something rushing through the wheat, invisible to you.

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak too transforms into the form of a bear, albeit a Cub, and while he senses the something, all he can think of is his father, and so he continues to run.

[Chris Chandler]

Your mother quickly overtakes you and stands directly in front of you, planting her feet into the ground and leaning forward. Before you even have the option of skirting around her something enormous crashes into her, causing her to tumble past you and stop in a head. She has two large wounds in her side, but she immediately starts up and stands on her hind legs, roaring.

You see the towering form of a huge boar before you, gore and blood dripping from it's tusks. It's eyes are red with rage and it sees you, but also your mother. It grunts so loudly that the ground shakes near you, and it shakes its head madly back and forth. It starts forth again, and your mother follows suit.

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak squeals in fright, but then seeing the blood dripping from his mother's wounds, steels himself and he too charges the Boar, unwilling to allow her to face the creature alone.

[Chris Chandler]

You run toward the furious beast and are knocked yards away for your trouble. You land hard but the corn actually seeks to cushion your small weight. Behind you you hear a low growl, so low it is almost inaudible, then a voice, just as deep.

You will stay here or I will kill you myself. Your mother does not need your blood never to wash away.

Your father, his form not quite man, not quite bear, lopes over you, and, steel axe in hand, he leaps high in the air and comes down on the boar. Even from this vantage you can see that it has been beheaded. He immediately moves toward your mother whose mind is still in the fight. She takes a swipe at your father before she calms herself. You then hear the shout -

I told you the beast would flush him out. Go now!!!

Your father looks at you, then your mother, and then shoves her ursine form toward you. She lopes and grabs you by the nape with her teeth, and then stops, turning toward her mate.

Your father stands tall and roars the challenge.

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak Squaws and Squirms, then, weeping, submits to the grasp of his mother.

[Chris Chandler]

The hot breath of your mother surrounds your body and she limps away as quickly as she can. She tosses you down, and, pressing a massive paw down on you, she roars out, toward the tribe, a call of panic!

It is seconds before men, woman, bears and those in-between rush out from the village, toward your mother.

Your father, roars another challenge, and you see a bright flash overhead, nearly blinding, and his roar shifts from defiance to pain.

[MadDogMaddux]

Trapped under the massive paw of his mother, Malak screams with fear and terror, and the premonition that he will not see his mother again.

[Chris Chandler]

Your mother lets her paw up for just a moment, as the other clanmates thunder past.

Just a moment!

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak rolls to his right and jumps once more to his feet. Flattening his ears he looks up, "Momma?"

[Chris Chandler]

Your mother, still in ursine form has tears of rage streaming from her face as she watches the events unfold as you remember them, for so long. The tribe brings down the hunters, tears them to pieces, but not before your father is killed. Your mother turns to you but it is not her face, but, suddenly, you see the face of the great mother, Deinissa, an ancient crone, her face a map of wrinkles and dye. She shakes her totem staff in the air and shouts unintelligibly. This was the third hour of The Passage, the ceremony where you enter into manhood after returning from your journey through Keoland to the Rushmoors. What is going on?

She finally stops her howling and shouting and turns to you. Speaking in the mode of great wisdom and untold secrets she asks you -

Who is you family, cub?

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak stands proudly in human form, his muscled chest rippling, and meets the crone's eyes with strength mixed with humble respect, "I am Malak of the Maklut, son of Behran and Remhan, servants to the Shalm." he gestured towars those sitting around him, "And these are my clan, my family - all who serve the Shalm and seek the good of the earth."

[Chris Chandler]

You speak the truth.

The crone smiles and continues -

Who is the Shalm? Why do you serve?

[MadDogMaddux]

The Shalm is he who came to us long ago, leaning on the staff and playing the pipes. He is Obad-Hai, blessed be his holy name, and he is the defender of the earth, protector of all that is natural, shepherd to the creatures which walk Oerth, and caretaker to her plants. He is the swift executioner of those who woul dare defile her, the hunter of those who prey unjustly on her, and the defender of her honor and purity. He is the Shalm, and by his might and care does the Oerth flourish and prosper.

Malak pauses, glancing down, And he is the avenger of those taken from us wrongly. And so do I serve the Shalm to safeguard the Oerth as he wills, and to avenge her against those who have committed such vile attrcocities upon her. I am Malak of the Maklut, and I will visit pain and terror upon those who have transgressed the Shalm and his will. For these I will be known as the implacable hunter, the manifestation of Oerth's wrath, and death incarnate.

[Chris Chandler]

So you shall be; I have forseen it Malak of the Maklut. Arise from your bonds and no longer be a cub, but one of the great bears of the tribe.

She steps back and the whole of the tribe transforms into ursine shape, the great males bellowing loud enough to echo through the valley.

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak turns to face his brethren, absorbing the earth-shattering roar and letting it reverberate throughout his body. He raises his arms and, changing into his ursine form, joins with them in a mighty bellow of war.

[Chris Chandler]

You complete your roar and stumble toward a knee, crouching instinctively as a creature passes over your head, nearly missing your head with its gory talons, it's bright green scales shimmering in the noonday sun. Your small force had fought well against the Brotherhood's forces, but that was before the Jannisaries unleashed their pet dragon, who was perfectly content in flying low and pinning your group down. You could see the enemy approaching with impunity. A third of your group had succumbed to the deadly cloud that the dragon unleashed upon the group. Ru'alat, a clansman, looks to you with fear.

They approach brother!

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak furrows his brow in thought, Ru'alat, hand me one of your tanglefoot bags, and ready one for yourself. On its next pass, we throw them at the dragon. Turning to two others, hunters, behind him he says, Ready your arrows, brothers. And use mercy, this creature does not deserve to suffer for how it has been warped for our enemies uses.

With a prayer to the Shalm, he crouches down, tanglefoot bag in hand. One chance. If we do not bring down this damned dragon now, the enemy will cut us to ribbons.

[Chris Chandler]

You remember this action well. It had stayed in your dreams for days after the first time you lived it, and it is just as terrifying now.

The maneuver is well thought out and executed, everyone doing their part. The dragon is not brought down immediately, but upon it's pass, the creature is so shocked to be the brunt of a counter-assault that it careens out toward the stand of trees, nearly a quarter mile off. The closing zealots go from shouts of impending victory to fear as your force shifts and charges them. The spearhead broken, their company crumbles and those that are allowed to survive flee to the coast. The dragon, too, takes flight, but toward the mountains, toward another.

Rua'lat approaches you -

Tell me of you homeland, Malak.

The girl is beautiful, shining, with hair the color of autumn and eyes like dawn, her bountiul figure covered by a simple farmhand's dress, her apron black with a day's labor.

Her hand is on your arm, your wounded arm, you recall, having been pulled out of the gulch where the ogress Gruna left you to die; the assassination didn't take, now, did it?

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak grunts, My homeland.....it seems so long since I left. I grew up in an enclave of others just like me, servants of The Shalm - protectors of a sacred shrine. Here he pauses and furrows his brow, But first, who ARE you, and how did I come to be in this place?

[Chris Chandler]

Oh, dear, another spot, eh? No matter. You rest right now.

She stops and repeats something, something you can tell she's said more than once now -

I'm Rebecca, your wife these five years, the mother of your daughter Anise, and now I am going to fix you some tea, and breakfast and then go back out in the field and pull out some more of those bloody potatoes.

You are sitting in bed, your arm bandaged. You do not know this house, and the memory of Gruna, coming down from a cliffside to pin you with her pike, as her mates came at you from all directions, seems to fade, to fade into another memory, a memory not your own, of a plow and a stupid ox and a bear wandering into the field.

What was a bear doing in the field? Wait, married?!

[MadDogMaddux]

As Malak sits, he thinks, and the pieces do not fit. I am not a farmer, I am a warrior. And I do not, nor ever have I, put my roots down in such an environ. I and my tribe are creatures of the WOOD, not fields.

He glances around himself and replaces the other memories, The death of my father....it was wrong too. I did not grow up in a Field, but a wood. And if this woman is my WIFE, why would she be asking me to tell her of my homeland?

Standing up, he glances about for his Bow, and then examines his arm all the more closely. None of this is right...

[Chris Chandler]

You arm is cut, slashed. Gruna pinned you with a pike on that arm, this is more like an axe... no, it's a plowshare. The... ox... bolted when it saw the... bear... This isn't right. The memory you are having, that you can tangibly see through the wound on your arm. It isn't right.

Rebecca returns, her long hair whipping as a cross breeze catches it. She carries a wooden tray with tea, boiled eggs, and some summer sausage, with big piece of bread and some honey. It's... your... This is your favorite breakfast?

She smiles kindly. She looks a bit tired, like she's been staying awake for a long time.

Here you are dear. A nice breakfast on the back porch, just as you like.

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak's mind races, What sort of creature could be doing this? And where are my weapons? As he thinks, he tracks Rebecca, attempting to play off his suspiciousness as simple drowsiness. As she sets his breakfast down, he runs through his options in his mind.

If she is truly my loving wife, then it would be evil indeed to slay her. Yet...these memories I do not know. These wounds are inconsistent with what I DO know. And this entire reality is incongruent with who I am. The gentleness in Malak's spirit restrains him from slaying her outright, instead he speaks.

You and I both know that all of this is wrong. I would slay you without warning, but it is not my nature to take such a risk in accidentally harming an innocent. Tell me plainly, who are you, and how have I come to be here? he pauses, And do not lie to me. I am not a man who has ever wed, nor am I a farmer. It is obvious that you desire to detain me here, and it seems to learn from my past - but your ruse has failed. Tell me now, who are you, and how did I come to be here?

[Chris Chandler]

As she turns your world spins again. You catch the face of Rebecca as she fades away into pitch darkness. Her features remain the same, except for her eyes. Her eyes like the dawn are as a serpents... No, as a dragon's.

You are standing in a lit chamber, torches lining the wooden walls, a high, vaulted ceiling lined with timber rafters. You smell roast pork, ale, blood. A table looms before you. There is a man, old, hoary, with a red beard shot with white, sitting at the center of a long table. He stares at you.

[MadDogMaddux]

Again, Malak casts about, looking for his arms and armor, checks the wound on his arm, then makes eye contact with the man, Well?

[Chris Chandler]

You are fully accoutered, and are not wounded any longer. You remember those events, but they are clearly visions, not memories. The man smiles and stands.

Well indeed. Greetings Malak, and welcome, finally, to my hall. Wait - Do you not recognize me?

You have never seen this man before, but you have the strange feeling as though you know him... from a dream or some other vision, it is unclear to you

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak furrows his brow and shakes his head, While I do have a sense that perhaps I SHOULD, I do not recognize you. He pauses, gathering his wits, then bows, I am MAlak of the Maklut, but p'raps you already know this. As it appears I am to be your guest I beg you, pray tell to whom do I attend?

[Chris Chandler]

The man, frowning a bit, stands and walks around the table toward you. He speaks as he moves.

Malak of the Maklut, I know you as you know yourself, and I am quite astonished that you do not know me for who I am -

He places a calloused hand upon your shoulder. he stands nearly a head taller than yourself. He wears the garb of a wanderer, and they are thin with wear. He is barefoot. You see a set of reed pipes at his side.

Are you sure you do not know me?

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak senses the sudden weakness in his knees, at the same time the senses of awe and worship as well as the suspicions of foul play and deception wash over him. Nevermind, if it is a deception, it will come to light.

Malak drops to his knees, My....my Lord?

[Chris Chandler]

The man smiles and bends down on his own knee.

One should never take his eyes off the horizon, nor bow to that before him. Stand tall, Malak. Stand tall.




You smell autumn around you, the crisp air, the leaves, all of it all at once.

You are being taken from your home, from your dreams, and it is all because of him. Be forthright and stalwart. Do not falter, and do not trust what you see.

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak stands, and nods slowly, processing the words of his Lord, You speak of he who escaped my grasp. Malak lowers his eyes and shakes his head, I failed you before in this, and he escaped. It is well that I suffer such a banishment until I make things right.

Malak pauses again, then draws himself together, looking up, So am I born a news as the implacable hunter, Shalm, I beg you lend me your grace to see this task through to its end and the death of the defiler.

[Chris Chandler]

You have not failed me, Malak. You have never failed me. Doubt such as that is a tool of he who has called upon the darkest arts to escape your grasp. Do not fall prey to it!

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak's stomach begins to rumble, and he glances up - slightly embarassed, I suppose after the death of Ambrose I have been in such a habit of self-condemnation and doubt, it has become second nature to me.....you saw the suffering of those who replaced me at the chalice? How I slew the one betrothed to the druid? And this after I had tested them so thoroughly! He shakes his head, Forgive me Shalm, but the jubilance of my heart has encountered so many a dark shadow, I do not know that it can be restored. He sighs, How I long to make things right to her, how I regret Ambrose' death, and the escape of the Nerullite. Shalm, these things now hang over my soul as a dour and dark cloud - the condemnation of those lives marred by my inability to intervene well! And yet, I do not doubt my own ability. I know that with your blessing I shall prevail, but that cannot undo what has already been inflicted upon others.

[Chris Chandler]

Their lives' are their own, Malak. You cannot be responsible for them, as they make the choices that will determine their own fate. Know, too, that if you continue to allow those things, your "self-condemnation and doubt", as you put it, to control your choices, you will never be able to determine your fate. You will become a tool of the Nerullite as simply as are the walking bones of the dead.

[MadDogMaddux]

But how, my Lord, can I become free of these things? Mere assent to the fact that each chooses his own path is not enough! I beg you, intervene on my behalf! I would yield to your will, your path - as it seems I too have become a wanderer - but I am unable to free myself from the grip of this shadow. Help me, I beg you, great Wanderer!

[Chris Chandler]

He strikes you and you crumple as a rag doll, your cheek numb from the blow. He seems to grow before you.

Release yourself from the past, Malak! You cannot abide there. If you want to remove the shadow of your loved ones then become what you have known you shall be! Bring forth the fury of the Great Bear. Rain destruction upon those that seek to overbalance the true circle of Oerth, and all of the cosmos. Seek out the Nerullite like the hunter you claim to be.

He takes a step back, shrinking ever so slightly.

If you cannot do this, then you are a base coward, one whose father should have killed as a runt cub. Stand and leave my home, but know that I shall be with you.

[MadDogMaddux]

Malak gathers himself together, reeling both from the blow the shock of receiving it. Drawing himself up, he squares his shoulders and meets the Deity eye to eye. There is no strength without compassion, only corruption. Turning, to face the door, he looks over his shoulder once more, I shall bring forth the fury of the Great Bear, Shalm, for I AM that Great Bear. And indeed I will rain destruction on those who overbalance and take advantage of power through abuse. His eyes flicker, And while I will not ABIDE there in the past, I will remember it, for to forget it would be cowardice indeed. He strides for the door, but pauses at the threshold, But tell me, why the visions? Why the deceptions of a life I have not lived? Do you seek to test my resolve by offering me such a complacent life? And why the eyes of the dragon?

[Chris Chandler]

Those false visions are there to deceive you, and I fear that you may see more before this trial ends. I pulled you out of those visions to plant your feet beneath you. Know that the Nerullite will have many more allies than you. She is just one of them. You will encounter her soon enough. Now then, back into the void with you, but remember that you are the hunter, never the hunted.

[MadDogMaddux]

Grinning almost wolfishily Malak steps out through the doorway. I've always wanted to make weapons of that dragon's teeth...

[Chris Chandler]

You step through the door, and it is as if you tumble forward from a precipice - no are pulled toward the edge. You seem to fall, then to float, then to fly a dim darkness reminiscent of the edge of dawn, though you see nothing around you, no shapes, no features, nothing.

[MadDogMaddux]

Sensing that he can do nothing else, Malak waits with the patience of a hunter.

[Chris Chandler]

As you fly in the ether your thoughts drift towards those visions that you saw... no, lived them. Those memories, now, are as real to you as had you lived them, and perhaps you had. The memories of your time as the guardian, too, weigh on you and you think of the youths to which you passed your mantle, and you hear the soft song that was sung to you as you stepped into the chalice. You see their hopeful and sad faces and you feel the familiar presence of Ambrose and that vanishes in an instant to be replaced by a chill of which you have never felt. It is as if the heat of the world had been sucked away, if only for an instant, and you catch sight of a form, perhaps a man - it is hard to say - hurtling through the darkness so quickly that you lose sight of him in a matter of two seconds.

You then have a tangible sense of motion, of direction, and you turn and see a yawning maw, still black, but with the tinges of darkest red. You smell dust and bones, feel heat, hear the clink of wooden chimes, the sound of the wind against the dunes of sand.

Then you are laying on the hot, dry sand.

Opening his eyes, he stood and looked all around him and found himself standing in the midst of a massive desert, but where it was – he did not know.
Looking down, he blinked in shock. At his feet lay a skeleton in tattered clothes. It was the skeleton of a small boy, with ceremonial markings carved deep into his bones. Stooping he studied it and realized that once more, he was somehow on the trail of Loric.


((You are the first to enter Athas. Welcome home!))

[MadDogMaddux]

Stooping, Malak begins to examine the bones, trying to determine how long they have been here, hoping to gain a sense of how cold his trail is.

After studying the bones, he checks his gear, and returns first to the bones, and then to the ground around them - searching for a trail to follow.

[Chris Chandler]

((And we'll pick up with your trail in the IC. Excellent!))

[MadDogMaddux]

*takes a bow*

:P