I don’t always walk through the mists, but when I do…
I hope I end up in Dragonreach.
Introduction
My name is Naerduïl Starchild. I am a 499-year-old High Elf hailing from the city of Al Anor on the continent of Barran. My city was overrun by Yao Yu, Octopus beast-kin, before I was born and it was used as a staging point for their invasion of the surface world. The High Elves stayed to exert economic and political pressure as a selfless service to the rest of the world, but in Barran we are still hated and seen as the lackeys of the old enemy. My city has since been destroyed, my people scattered and the Yao Yu regime has crumbled. Barran is still as dangerous as it has ever been and I have no reason to stay now, other than a few good friends whom I will miss dearly. Having found my way to Dragonreach accidentally, I was delighted to come to the realization that this was my mother’s homeland and that I had visited many times hundreds of years ago. After the feast, I was reunited with siblings and cousins, who had already found their way here from Barran or were born here in Dragonreach. So, this is your official notice that I am here to stay. If this fails to bring you great joy, please, file any complaints with my a$$ and remember to seal it with a kiss.
It may become readily apparent after several minutes of talking with me that I am raving mad. I am only able to communicate clearly in written form because I can twist and shape the words over and over until I have them telling the tale that I truly want. There was no one at the feast that I did not want to get to know better. I have a tendency to take an extra nap or wander off to be alone to catch up with my thoughts, but not because I tire of anyone’s company. I am simply a traumatized extrovert. The more effort you take to get to know me the bigger the payout… assuming you have great tolerance and patience. This is by no means an apology. I f**king love myself. This introduction is just to ease you into the chaos of being my friend.
My Debut
I stumbled out of the mists in Dragonreach. Fortunately, I had already visited the outhouse and was on the return trip when the mists plucked me from Barran. The long walk through the woods to the tavern lights ahead was fairly uneventful, but, as fate would have it, an event was in preparation. The third annual Dragonfall Festival was to be held the next day. One might think the universe has things lined up for me just right. Another might think that the universe is just so random that patterns are inevitable. Either way, here I was at the right time. Time to party.
I approached the tavern and saw that many adventurers had begun to arrive. I’m still amazed that the mists never seem to bother depositing more mundane folk outside of a tavern that just happens to be a magnet for trouble. And it is always a tavern and never a library or brothel. Not complaining. Just amazed. I wonder sometimes if I will find missing stockings and pets during one of my journeys. Anywho, the fine folks at the tavern took what little money I had for a bunk in a cabin for the weekend and a spot at a table for the feast.
Having spent the majority of my long life in the city of Al Anor, I was prepared for the kaleidoscope of adventuring types that I would meet in Dragonreach, but the most startling was a trained Goblin. I knew they had potential, but we were forbidden by law to teach them anything in my homeland. I used to carry bacon in a pouch to bribe them to leave me alone, so I didn’t have to kill the poor critters. I probably could have gotten into trouble for that too.
A Song of Seaweed in Love
I arrived at the fire by the beach with my new friend and fellow elf, Velnaeus. He was hoping to find marshmallows to toast. Sadly, they were postponed into obsolescence. However, there were folks regaling the efforts of the heroes of some three years past who put down the Dragon, Bleak. As the night went on many tales were told and songs were sung. One song in particular caught my mood and tossed it high into the night sky. I did not understand the words sung by the Selunari, Ilarion, but he stated that it was a song of seaweed in love… at least that is what I remember him saying. I had been sipping at a bottle of G’toraad, so my memory may be less than accurate. Soon, several women broke into dance and the audience clapped to the beat of his tune. It was beautiful and I knew in that moment that the mists had meant for me to make this place my new home.
A Tale of Ten Pies
Velnaeus continued to serve as an excellent guide to Dragonreach, that is until he said the words, “free pie.” I cannot hold him accountable for my own actions, but an elf should know better than to challenge a Keebler (on my mother’s side) to a pie eating contest. How many pies did I eat in ten minutes? Yes. I ate ten pies. Only a Selunari named Nikolas was able to keep up with my methodical pie consumption. In the end, there was one pie left and we (thankfully) agreed to a draw.
A Page in my Journal
By the afternoon, one of my cabin mates, a Selunari named Tolib, asked me to accompany his page, Jake to the festival grounds while he took care of some other task of his. Jake, being a verbose and imaginative young lad, reminded me much of myself at his age and he was glad to share his ideas with me. He had three plans. The first was a distillery which would syphon the essence of an elemental and transfer it into a liquid form which would be imbibed by some lucky fellow who would gain the powers of the element. I had some ethical questions about the matter, but I decided to leave that to his master, Tolib. The second was a portable portal that could take you anywhere you could want to go and the third was a device that could take you back or forward in time. It would take a great wizard to build these things, but things are begun with ideas and plans. And one day, I am certain that Jake the Page will become great at whatever he sets his mind to.
That makes sense.
My Abbreviated Feast
The feast was glorious. Everyone added their part to the beauty of the spectacle. The food smelled absolutely delicious. I did my best to hold back the screaming demons in my tormented head as the volume of chattering voices escalated and echoed around me. I ate some bread. “Ten pies,” the demons whispered. I skipped the salad, but the screaming continued. Potatoes were served with bits of bacon. I took two small potato cubes and some bits of bacon, but even sweet beloved bacon could not bring joy to my palate. “Ten pies.” I ate them. The servers brought out the tray of meats. “Ten pies!” It was then that I knew it wasn’t demons screaming in my head.
It was the ten pies.
Sadly, I was forced to excuse myself early.
The Graveyard of the Broken Wind
After I had walked about to catch my wits, I was distracted from the gastronomic pains of my gluttonous self-betrayal when Count Ko Minematsu dissipated about twenty feet away from me, causing a good deal of screaming and hollering from those accompanying him. This sparked my curiosity, so I watched to see what people do when that happens. Apparently, the standard operating procedure is to travel to the Graveyard of the Four Winds and rescue him from an ancient Dark Elf Queen, for whom his family once served. She had devoured thousands of Dark Elves before being expelled from the mortal plane and had somehow taken him to her prison to serve her there.
And there was a HUGE spider-thing!
I was given three or four opportunities to back down from the mission at various points along the journey to this other-worldly battle for Count Ko’s spirit, but I had brought cookies to make friends and I wasn’t about to let that effort go to waste.
“You can’t scare me!” I shouted as I strode across the battlefield. “I ate ten pies!” The sound of my stomach gurgling and my first intense flatulence was lost under the battle cries of my comrades as we tore into the ranks of Dark Elves pouring from the open maw of their Queen. We all fought like champions and eventually after a great deal of sweating, one sound thrashing, a bout of paralysis and a webbing, I had actually forgotten about my pies. I also found a leg from the great spider to take as a trophy.
The Untouchable Magic Balls of Velnaeus
My new friend, Velnaeus, was tasked by Lady Cyn to identify the magical nature of several balls in a blue sack. When touched, the magic balls had caused a couple of ladies to attack their comrades. She repeated several times that only Velnaeus was to touch his magic balls. Clever Velnaeus had thought ahead and was first beaten by a friend and then spilled his elemental magics onto the ground before he touched his balls to identify their purpose, yet for all of his efforts his balls were no longer magical. I suggested that maybe his magic balls only worked when a woman touched them, but that was deemed unlikely. Poor Velnaeus complained that he felt like a commoner without his magic and we did our best to assure him we did not doubt his prowess.
The Graveyard of Springvale
Having ten pies in my belly had the beneficial effect of giving me a great deal of energy and even after the battle in the Graveyard of the Four Winds, I was still ready for anything and the moment I saw Ilarion (AKA Starface) walking by with a look of purpose, I asked if I could be of assistance. He thought about it for a moment and dragged me over to the Duchess Saro (of some other far away land). She said, “he’ll need a gang name.” And we walked to find the rest of the Moonless Knights gang. After a great deal of entertaining chaos, I was dubbed “Ten Pies.” We were then told that we would be travelling to Springvale by magical means to find out who was desecrating the ancient tombs of the city which had once stood on the land where the new village stands.
As we approached the cemetery, we could see signs of vandalism, and the rusty chain on the gate had been broken. Light poured out of one of the ancient mausoleums. (Mind you, when I say “ancient,” I am referring to a time when I was two to three hundred years old.) So, we headed straight over with no pretense of being a stealthy group… or even being slightly tactical and hollered into the doorway for their surrender. They weren’t having any of that, so Heart (our “boss,” the Duchess) charged into the crypt swinging. I was a little surprised, but followed. I attempted to remain somewhat tactical and stayed near the doorway for a quick exit, using the long reach of my polearm to try to keep some of the attention off of Heart. Unfortunately, that attention earned me a gash in my leg and I fell against the wall and blacked out. I awoke to one of my gang casting a healing spell on me. I knew that I was nowhere near combat ready, so I rolled in front of the doorway and, with my good leg, launched myself between my friends’ legs and belly surfed down the stairs of the mausoleum. My favorite pouch was destroyed, but I lived and used my own spells to finish the healing of my leg. After the initial group of tomb raiders had been dispatched, we entered the catacombs beneath the crypt and found ourselves creeping along in a tunnel in which only two of us could stand abreast.
I then turned to the Moonless Knights and said, “Did you notice how we are underground and in a tunnel in which only two of us can stand abreast?” They answered with various affirmations. I then allowed the ten pies to finish the conversation with a thunderous bellow and the gang responded with gasps and wails.
Finally, we reached a chamber much like the one on the surface and the gang rushed in once more slaying all, but one whom they charmed. I stayed in the hallway and kept watch as I am more accustomed to the smell of my own a$$. I could overhear the ladies commanding him to disrobe and arguing over whether to kill him or convince him to join our gang. Ultimately, he was set free and even had his clothing returned to him.
We then returned to Springvale to speak with a town guard and tossed him some coins to make sure the graveyard was cleaned up in the hope that we wouldn’t have to return to fight angry undead. I am sure that it was not lost on the dead that we had looted the very same bandits we had killed for looting their tombs, but a good time was had by all, so I didn’t bother pointing out our hypocrisy.
A Night of Great Flatulence brings a New Dawn
The rest of my long night was spent wandering in the dark, farting and belching. I was still jittery into the wee hours of the morning and thought I would let my sleeping comrades breathe easily. When morning came, I packed my gear and returned to Barran to secure my belongings. I have already made my way back to Dragonreach and taken up residence in the family estate that I visited as a child.
I am very excited for my next trip to Valborough or elsewhere in this magnificent realm and I look forward to getting to know you all even better.
Sincerely,
Naerduïl Starchild