Ascher trotted his horse between the trunks. The glow of the shrine was unmistakable here. He was so close that at times, between the trunks, he would catch a glimpse of a white marble column, or the shimmering water of the reflecting pool. It was a comfort to know the shrine was still there. Just as it was a comfort to know that the Village was still there. And it was for that reason that Ascher Kraw rode tonight. A thick band of ettins had come through a few days earlier, the strange wanderer he'd found and then immediately lost, and the strange trail of an undead bear... There were deep and dark things moving in the woods these days. And such things often had no respect for the peace of the village, town, or shrine. And so, Ascher rode patrol. It was lonely work, and often he rode alone. He would fight whatever darkness he found, for he'd once been told, "As long as a single candle burns, the darkness cannot be complete." Suddenly, there was a dwarf walking next to his horse. Ascher started, and his hand went immediately to his bow. He notched an arrow, but didn't draw it. The dwarf wasn't doing anythign threatening... just walking.... for the moment. The dwarf extended his hand, after a moment, "I am Kiln," He said. Ascher frowned, but afte a brief hesitation, he released the arrow and took Kiln's hand, "Ascher Kraw." The dwarf smiled, "I know," He said simply, "Your reputation precedes you. A certain Wizard friend we have in common speaks quite highly of you. He has suggested that I take you on as our first official Watchman. Are you interested?" Ascher nodded, "Yes, I definitely am." Kiln eyed him for a long moment, his eyes seemed to weigh every inch of him, but finally the dwarf nodded at Ascher. "Very well," He said, "You'll have your chance. We'll see if you're worthy to take the oaths." Ascher nodded, and saluted sharply, "I will defend the weak," He said in a loud voice, "I will pursue the guilty, I will champion the just. I will keep the long watch. I will stand against the darkness. I will keep the Watch." Kiln nodded approvingly, "You know the old words. That is a good sign..." The dwarf's eyes suddenly looked cold and hard as gray granite, "But it is not enough."
Dark Visions ~VoP~ THe man was in tattered rags and on the verge of death , stumbling along the overgrown Sunrise March...the former road from Britain to Trinsic. Now more than a third of the once glorious highway was in utter disrepair. Bandits, brigands, and all manner of evil things moved along it freely. There had been a day when it was not so. There had been a day when that road was the life's blood of the Kingdom. Lord Britain had sat his throne and issued Justice with an even hand. The road from Britain to Trinsic had flowed with commerce and arms, keeping the King's Peace. The Virtues had flourished. Then came the fall. A few read it in the cards... some in the bones they tossed. One or two heard it on the wind, though they were called mad.... as those always are. But still, they heard it coming. The changing of an Age is often not a quiet thing to behold. Fiorn had been a young man in those days. A stalwart and forthright Knight to his bones. He was a swordsman, and training to be a Spirit Knight, who could wield the blade and magic with equal grace and lethality. He pursued Justice and Honor above all else, and he excelled. It had been a good time... a good age. Then, he'd seen the walls of Trinsic teeming with Orcs and Trolls. Ettins and Ogres roaming the streets with packs of Ratmen at their heels. The burning of Trinsic had been a thing of song and legend for a long time, now.... Fiorn could still hear the screams... still taste the smoke on the air. He held off a band of Orcish Mages that day for more than two hours, defending the Academy of the Arcane Arts. Eventually, though, he'd been forced to flee, and abandon the now empty building to the ravages of the enemy. His one victory lay in the fact that he'd bought time to get wounded and dying out of the city and away from the coming fires. He hadn't been able to save them all, though. Not nearly. And it was on that day, watching in despair from a nearby hilltop as his home died in a haze of flame and smoke, that his heart began to turn. He was the sworn man of a powerful and prominent family, a Noble family with direct ties to the King himself. Fiorn felt he had let them down... disappointed them by failing to save more people...more women... more children. And all of the assurances from his Liege Lord that it wasn't the case made it seem all the more so. It didn't help matters any that more cities were falling. Minoc and Vesper had been invaded by Orcs... Britain was sacked by the Undead Hordes...Yew was taken over by a band of Orcs.... There was general chaos and mayhem. Then, one day, Fiorn wentmad with anguish, and he fled to SHame to either cleanse himself of the stain on his honor... or die trying. Fiorn had fought. He smashed through Earth Elementals like they were dust. He wafted aside air elementals... dispelled poison elementals and efreets alike.... And he doused fire elementals without breaking a sweat. But, in his torment, Fiorn fought with rage and hatred in his heart, and it twisted that crack farther and farther until it was a chasm in his heart, deep and black as night. He stood panting, his cloak torn in several places, his light armor dented and knicked, tears streaming down his face. Then, a Blood Elemental loomed over him. The red in its form so dark it seemed almost purple, the creature had come for him. It slid across the ground with a frightening speed and grace. Fiorn dropped to his knees, his head bowed, and he'd surrendered to it. Then, the world went dark.... Fiorn opened his eyes and shook off the dark visions he'd had. THe sleep he'd been getting the past few weeks had been sporadic, troubled, and of very little benefit. This last bought of nightmares, though, had seemed much less vivid. Fiorn stretched, feeling somewhat revived. He had found his quarry. He rememberd it...the feeling of satisfaction, and completion. Now, though, he had to wait. More instructions would come. Fiorn stood, adn strode around the small village. Only a handful of buildings were complete, though foundations were marked off for several more. These people were nothing, if not ambitious... and optimistic. Fiorn heard motion back at the edge of the Shrine pool... The ranger would be after him again, but that could wait. For now, Fiorn needed more information. Slowly, and carefully, he eased his way back into the shadows, and hid....
