To Light the Darkness ~The Reckoning~ FINAL ACT SC2 VoP

Village Green, Village of Paws




Luthain of Brae stood before the Shrine of Spirituality, dazzled for a moment by the swirling patterns of ethereal light that danced in the air above it. The shimmering seemed both to reflect and to compliment the starlight turning overhead in a strange, but harmonious way. He felt the peace and comfort that came from being in thre presence of a shrine wash over him, and for a moment it seemed that a great weariness had been lifted from his shoulders. He breathed deeply and easily for the first time in months.

This village wasn't just an island of tranquility, it was a sea of it. And he relished in the effects while he could.

Finally, after what seemed like a long time, his horse snorted twice and tossed its head, breaking Luthain out of his reveree. He blinked, and turned towards the tower rising into the night shadows to his right. Luthain motioned to his horse, who dutifully followed behind him. The dusty warrior climbed the steps slowly, stiffly. The lingering effects of the giant desert scorpions tightened his muscles ever now and then, and Luthain would wince. It would be hours before the spasms finally stopped completely, but at least he had them under control now.

He pounded hard on the thick metal bound doors of the tower, only to hear the echos of his knocked reverberating inside. Luthain called out several times, but received no answer. The tower was empty. Just then, a woman cleared her throat behind him, and Luthain almost jumped out of his skin. He turned to find a woman of small, but firms stature. Something about the way she carried herself spoke of a quiet confidence and a hidden reservoir of strength.

The woman smiled and waived.

"Hi," She said, and waited, still smiling.

Luthain nodded, "Hello," He said in return, and waited.

After the silence stretched a moment, the woman's smile slipped. She quickly flashed it again, though, and asked, "You from around here?"

Luthain shook his head, "Are you?"

"No," The woman replied, still smiling, "Just passing through."

Luthain nodded his head slowly, "Myself as well."

Another long, somewhat uncomfortable silence stretched, and the woman asked, "So how are you?"

"As good as one can be," Luthain replied vaguely, nodding his head. Given his recent dealings with a certain green-eyed vixxen, he wasn't taking any chances, "And you?"

The woman opened her mouth to make a reply, but just then two men rode up. One wore the clothes of a nobleman, right down to the black feathered hat. But he wore them well, as if he were born to a seat of authority. The other on wore dark armor fashioned in the likeness of a fearsome Skeleton Captain. He rode his saddle like he was born to it and the axe on his belt. The two men pulled their mounts to a halt, one on a horse and one on an ostard. Both men wore the Village crest.

The nobleman spoke first, "Good evening, travelers. Is there anything we can do for you?"

Luthain nodded his head once, and said, "G'devening. I am Luthain of Brae."

The woman smiled and said, "I am Winter. And he nods his head a lot."

Luthain scowled at the woman, "She smiles a great deal," He grumbled under his breath. He turned back to the nobleman, "I am looking for my brother, Veytting of Brae. Have you seen him?"

The nobleman frowned for a moment, but shook his head. "I am Borin Drake, master bardsman for this village. And in answer to your question, no I have not seen your brother."

The warrior shook his head also and replied, "Nor have I. I am Jackson Trawl."

Borin stepped over to speak to Luthain while Jackson and Winter discussed different tactics for attacking undead creatures. Luthain told Borin about the circumstances surrounding his brother's disappearance. He spoke of the letters he had been receiving from Veyttin that talked about a friend who was acting strangely. This friend had begun changing.... slowly at first, then more and more noticeably. Veyttin said the man worked with him as a lumberjack for a local bowyer and also sometimes served as a tailor. He said the man had taken to disappearing for days at the time, and each time he came back he seemed a little different--less like the man who had left.

"What is this friend's name?" Borin asked, intrigued.

"Dorbraine," Luthain answered, "Dorbraine of Yew. The last message I received was sent on a merchant ship. This particular merchant is known for his knowledge of the intricate shape of Sosarian coast lines and ocean currents. I used him once to bring a shipment of gemstones down from Minoc to Nu'jelom. The message said that he and this Dorraine were going on a search for some special trees and would be in the forest for several days. He said that he would write to me when he returned, and I never heard from him again."

"That is disturbing," Borin said, "Do you have the message with you?"

Dorbraine shook his head, "It is in a safe place for now. But, I searched the coast to the north east of the Village, and found the axe I gave him for his 15th nameday. There was blood on the handle and on the blade. At least part of it was Orc blood..... and part of it wasn't."

Borin looked the executioner's axe over when Luthain showed it to hime. The handle and the blade were covered with ancient runes of Might, and the thing seemed to vibrate softly with the magic that had gone into its crafting. There were dark brown stains that could be blood, as well, but it was hard to say. Still, he nodded to Luthain. The man's story somehow struck a nerve within him, and he knew it was true, though he couldn't be sure how.

"Well," Borin said, "Whatever we can do to help you find your brother, we will."

Jackson suddenly turned and saluted, "My axe is yours, should you need it," He said.

Luthain had to swallow hard past a sudden lump in his throat before he could speak, and when he did his voice was rough with suppressed emotion, "My thanks." He grated, "I will hold you to your oaths, if it comes to that."

Winter sighed and smiled, "I guess I'll follow along to," She said in mock boredom, "Who knows? Maybe it will be excititng!"

Luthain rolled his eyes and grumbled again about smiling too much. But he shot WInter a quick wink to take the sting out of his words as they were following Borin into the tower to discuss a plan of action. It felt good to have people on his side, after so long searching. He would have to find the Wizard again and speak with him to deliver the new information he'd collected. Perhaps by then the Watchman would be back from his journey north and would have news of his own.

The night was fully dark around him as he climbed the stone steps to the tower, but the warm welcoming light from within quickly enveloped him.... and kept the night at bay.....

Britain Moongate




Dorbraine stood in the shadows, waiting. He had been told the place, but not the time, and so he had come. The sun was sinking slowly towards the horizon, stretching the shadows longer and longer, giving the Darkness more sway. Dorbraine smiled to himself as he watched the day creeping towards its death. Suddenly, two people stepped out of the shimmering gate. Both men wore the crest of the Village of Paws, and Dorbraine knew them well. His wicked grin deepened.

"I don't see him, Jackson," The Bard said, a frown of worry creasing his forehead and face, "This doesn't feel right. Luthain said he would be here."

"I know," The Axe replied, his dark armor shaped like bones, "I don't like it either. Maybe he just got delayed in Minoc."

Dorbraine whispered from the shadows, "Well well, what plump flies to land in my web."

Both men put their hands on their weapons, eyes searching. Finally, the Axe replied, "Where are you? Speak again and show yourself!"

"Ah, but would the spider speak to the fly?" Dorbraine asked, still cloaked in the shadows.

"Do you always speak in riddles?" The Bard answered with a question of his own.

"Only when the questions are as important as the answers," Dorbraine said, stepping out of the shadows at last, "So ask, if you dare. Two questions each I will answer, but only once. Choose wisely."

The two men looked at each other, and leaned close, whispering. After several moments, they seemed to come to an agreement. The Bard circled his horse around to the right a bit, while the Axe moved to his left, making it difficult to watch both at the same time. Dorbraine smiled.

"Have you seen Veyttin of Brae?" The Bard asked.

"Why certainly," Dorbraine answered, nodding his head, "I have seen him many times many times. His face is as known to me as my own."

The Bard and the Axe exchanged glances, and both seemed to be waiting for Dorbraine to continue. When he didn't, the Bard muttered a curse under his breath, and tapped his fingers on a lute hanging at his side. Finally, he said, "Where is Veyttin and what does Vykos have to do with all of this?"

"That is two questions, Master Bard," Dorbraine replied, his smile evaporating, "You you have but one remaining."

The Bard shook his head, "One sentence, one question. Your rules, not mine."

Dorbraine started to snarl, but caught himself and took a deep, calming breath, "Very well," He replied, once he had regained his composure, "But a trickster gets what a trickster gives. Veyttin is where I left him last. And as for the hungry Viking, I know not of his part in this play. The Master has many hounds, and I know not where he sends them or how they bray."

The Axe looked at the Bard and spat, "I have no taste for vagueness and confusion, Borin. Maybe we should just kill him and be done with it."

The Bard shook his head, "It may come to that, Jackson, but not yet. I think the poor fellow is mad."

Dorbraine threw back his head and laughed, "Mad? Indeed I am, no doubt. But to pluck a weed and leave the root is folly and madness itself. And which am I? Have you the truth to tell, Master Axe? Come, ask your questions, if you dare. Choose wisely."

The Axe was silent for along time. Finally, he nodded to himself and asked, "Where did you leave Veyttin?"

Dorbraine's face twisted momentarily into a horribal snarl, but it was quickly replaced with his slick, oily smile, "I left him on the other side of Death. He has passed the barrier and may not return for the passing of an Age. For now, he is lost to the deep, lasting darkness beyond our mortal realm."

"More riddles!" The Axe exclaimed, and his hand went to his axe again.

Dorbraine held up his hand, "No riddles, Master Axe. The truth I promised, and the truth I gave. It is yours to hear as you will. One question more I have to give. A bargain made is a bargain kept."

"Who is your master?" The Axe asked.

Dorbraine snarled and cursed. He shook and whimpered as if he were being beaten. Finally, in a small, frail voice, he answered, "He moves by many names, though most now are lost to time and myth. He is the Darkness.... the Defiler......The Dark Lord Mordicai. And his gaze is on me, his touch is on my soul. I am bound!"

"You are mad!" The Axe exclaime, drawing his weapon.

Dorbraine smiled, taking strength from the falling of the night. He could feel the Darkness reaching out to him, filling him. He drew himself up and faced the men with a confident light in his eyes.

"No," Dorbraine growled, "I am not mad. I am merely bound. As you shall be."

The Bard looked at the Axe and nodded, "I think you're right Jackson, he is mad. And evil."

"That's all I need to hear, " The Axe growled, taking an ominous step forward. He swung his axe with force, and struck Dorbraine hard, the blade biting deep. Dorbraine simple stood and laughed.

Then, the Bard pulled an ornate lantern from his pack and struck a flame to the wick. Suddenly a poole of bright light filled the stone circle of the gateway. Dorbraine hissed, and tried to move away from the light, indifferent of the blows from the Axe. The Bard smiled, a realization dawning on his face.

"Don't like the light much, do you?" He asked, stepping closer.

Dorbraine cried out and spat at the Bard, "You will taste the Darkness in full time! ALL of you will bathe in it!"

And with that, Dorbraine dove through the gateway, and vanished.




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Gypsy camp on southern edge of Minoc



Luthain of Brae rode his horse into Minoc, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Something was wrong. He couldn't place his finger on it, but the city had a decidedly different feel. Then, it dawned on him....in every city, even a small mining town like Minoc, there were dogs and cats and other small creatures around that made their own little noises. You grow accustomed to that sort of thing over time, until you expect it, and after long enough, you stop noticing it altogether. That is, until that ever present hum of life is gone.

Then, the silence is deafening.

Luthain rode deeper into the city, and noticed that the citizens could feel it too. Shopkeepers snapped at customers, merchants cursed at messengers, and even the guards seemed to be jumping at their own shadows. Luthain just shook his head, and kept riding.

The message he had received said that the man he'd been following, Dorbraine of Yew, had been seen at the Stonecutter's Guild here in Minoc. The messenger had come so suddenly that Luthain hadn't been able to pass word along to Borin and Jackson, who had been helping him search for his brother. The chance that he might finally corner the mysterious Dorbraine was too good to pass up.

Luthain turned a corner in the street, and there was a low rumbling. His horse, trained for battle and dependable in even the most chaotic of situation, spooked suddenly and reared, throwing him to the ground. Luthain hit hard, and the wind left his lungs in a sudden rush. For several long moments, he couldn't get any air, and he felt panicked. Black spots danced in front of his eyes as the ground continued to shake and rumble.

Finally, Luthain was able to gulp some air into his lungs, and the specks left his vision. He stood, dazed and looked for his horse, but it was nowhere to be found. The rumbling stopped, and Luthain turned to find himself face to face with what looked like a moving mountain of black shining rock.

A Golem.

Luthain cursed and dove to the side as the beast swung a mighty arm at him. As he rolled to his feet, Luthain drew the axe he had hung from a loop at his belt, and prepared to strike. Just then, the ground beneath his feet began rumbling, and a huge, rocky hand erupted from the dirt. Luthain leapt to the side again, barely escaping. When he came to his feet, Luthain landed several quick blows, crumbling the shadow golem into a pile of ore and dust.

The eery silence that had so bothered him before was gone now, replaced by a dim roar punctuated by sharp screams of terror.

Luthain tighted his grip on his axe, and headed for the screams wondering where the guards had gone.


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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMAZING.

These have all been recorded in the village oral history.

My dreams are realized in these inspired stories by The Watch and others.

Village Green, Village of Paws






Dorbraine stepped out from behind the corner of the tower and smiled. The Axe and the Bard jumped, and then both tried to look as though they hadn'ts. The Lady of Colors merely regarded him with a cautious expression. Dorbraine forced his smile wider, and made a bow in his saddle, complete with a courtly flourish.

"G'devening Mistress of Colors," Dorbraine said, "I hope tonight finds you well."

"Athena, don't trust him," The Axe said, one hand straying towards his axe handle, "This man is mad to his toes."

"Normally I wouldn't advise in favor of hasty or rash judgements,Athena," The Bard said, his voice cultured and sophisticated as it was resonant, "But in this case, I believe Jackson is spot on. This man is mad, and I believe the only recourse may be to purge his madness with fire."

Dorbraine laugh in spite of himself, "Do you really think I fear death, Master Bard?" He asked, "Do you, Master Axe?" He demanded, glaring at the man clad in shadowiy armor in the shape of bones. There was somethign almost familiar to Dorbraine, but he couldn't see past the disguise, though he knew it was an illusion.

The Lady of Colors held up one hand, and lifted an eyebrow, "Perhaps it may come to that, but not yet, I think. Are you mad as they say?"

"Most assuredly, Mistress of Colors" Dorbraine replied, his voice smooth and oily, "But not by my choosing, I tell you. I am bound, though truth be said, I think it suits me more than I like to admit. But bound I am."

Athena nodded, mulling over the answer, and Dorbraine chuckle to himself.

"One more question you may ask, and I shall anser," Dorbraine said slyly, "Choose wisely."

The Bard suddenly pulled his horse forward, and shook his head, "No, hound!" The Bard declared, his voice strong, and full of power, "You cannot hold her to a bargain she did not know of. YOU must declare the conditions, if you wish to strike a bargain like the one that bound us. You can't sneak it in."

Dorbraine grumbled, but finally nodded his head, "Very well, Master Bard," Dorbraine hissed, "Ask your two questions, Mistress of Colors. Two questions asked, two questions answered. You have my word. But I shall only answer once. A bargain struck is a bargain kept. You have my word, though the Darkness devour me."

The Mistress of Colors was silent for some time. Finally, she nodded, "Very well," She replied, "My first question: What is this Darkness?"

Dorbraine smiled wickedly and replied, "The Darkness is as it always has been, Mistress. It is that which comes when the light has faded from the world. It devours all, consumes all. It tears apart from within, it crushes from without. It is that emptiness beyond death, where the Void awaits us all. The Darkness is everything that is not which yearns to be what is."

By the time he wound down, Dorbraine was panting. His eyes were wide, and small speckles of spittle flecked his lips.

"Where is your Master hiding?" The Mistress of Colors whispered into the silence.

Suddenly, Dorbraine's face paled, and he began shaking his head. A sound very much like a whimper rose from deep within him, as he realized what he'd done.

"No, Mistress," Dorbraine whine, "Anything but that. You can't ask me that. I canpt betray...... Him....."

"See?" The Axe growled, pulling his axe free from its case, "I told you he was mad. Stark, raving, mad. Best to put him down now, like a rabid wolf. Let him run around too long, and he'll kill all the sheep."

The Mistress of Colors held her hand up again, but never took her eyes from Dorbraine's. There was a power in her gaze that was compelling. Dorbraine found he could not look away, though he longed to. This lady held him, bound as surely as he'd ever been.

"You swore to me," The Mistress said, "Two questions asked, and two answered. I have asked. You are bound by your word. I imagine your Master would have made it very..... uncomfortable..... for you to break your word, am I right? That way an oath sworn to him could be trusted. Now,..... Where..... Is.......Your.......MASTER?"

Dorbraine shrank from the force of her demand. He tried to hide his face, but it didn't help. He could feel the force of his oath in his bones, compelling him to answer. Slowly, as if watching it from a great distance, Dorbraine felt himself form the words.

"He is in the Halls of Blood," Dorbraine said, his voice soft and broken, "Where the light of the sun has never shined, and never will. There he waits, and watches...... and makes himself ready. His power is already beyond your comprehension. You cannot hope to stop him. Best not to waste your lives trying. Kill me, now. I have done what I can."

The Axe griined, "Gladly," He said, swinging his axe.

The blade bit deep, and blood poured from Dorbraine's shoulder. He grinned.

The Axe swung again, taking a huge chunk out of Dorbraine's left arm. His grin deepened.

The Mistress of Colors, seeing enough, whispered the words of power, "In Mani," as she crushed a handful of herbs in her palm.

Dorbraine felt the fiery touch of the spell, and hissed in pain. He cried out as the burning power of it settled over him and seemed to light ever fiber of his being on fire with pain. He spat the the Mistress of Colors.

"Cursed woman!" Dorbraine yelled, "Keep your VILE magic to yourself!"

The lady blinked, confused for an instant..... then she smiled.

"So, not used to the light?" The Mistrass asked, speaking the words, "Rel Sanct."

Dorbraine cringed, "NO!" He yelled, flinging his hands up, "PLEase..... DON'T!"

The Mistress cast the spell on him, and he cried out. The Bard, seeing the effect, immediatly cast a Protection spell. Even the Axe dropped his weapon and began saying the words, "IN LOR!"

Dorbraine felt the fiery touch of pain for the firs time in ages. The cold fingers of panic gripped him, and he fled, screaming, "The DARKNESS will come to consume you!!! The DARKNESS will come for you all!!!"

As he ran, the long shadows of the evening seemed to stretch to envelope him.


In a flash of inky blackness, he was gone.







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Minoc, City Plaza




The two statues towered overhead, proud and strong. The dust was settling slowly and most of the screams had died down. The rumbling, scraping noise of breaking earth was gone also. In its place was the low murmur of the dead and dying, and the stunned silence of the living.

Men who had sword blood feuds hours before stood arm in arm, singing the victory and funeral dirges. They bought each other rounds at the Tavern and toasted dead commrades and crumbled Golems.

For the moment, the City was safe again.

Near the feet of the great statues, half hidden by a tree, was a pile of various colored ores. The ground was torn and muddied by the movement of many heavy feet, and the blood that stained the grass. Atop all of the chaos, lay Luthain of Brae, his eyes staring dully at the evening sky overhead. There were no bruises on his face or body. No broken and twisted limbs as the Healers had seen so many times tonight. He looked almost peaceful.

A single clean cut had been made to the back of his neck. His spinal chord was severed.

The Healers started to pass him by, but one girl from the Islands stopped, and looked at his face. For an instant, a flash of recognition sparked in her deep dark eyes. She placed both hands on his head and squeezed hard, her eyes gazing deep into his. After a long moment of silence, she sat back and nodded.

"He is still there. We can reach him this side of the Veil, if we move quickly," She said, breathlessly.

The other Healers simply stood and stared at her..

The woman stood, and placed both fists on her hips, "I SAID MOVE!!!" She thundered, and suddenly the Healers were moving.

Within moments, they had the man on a stretcher and were carrying him off to the Hospital.

The young woman followed them, worry creasing her forehead and her face.....


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