A/N: Alright, this is my first EverQuest II story, so don't attack me for getting the lore messed up. :P


Laxir stood at a dark-plated gate, staring up at the top, containing wicked spikes. Well, climbing won't work. he mused to himself. Being a Teir'Dal, he knew the territory well. He was in the charming Nektulos Forest filled with undead and insane rebel dark elves. Oh yes, very charming, indeed. Right now, he was standing at the gates to the ominous Cauldron Hollow. I must be mad to do this. He had received a letter the other day, bidding him to come to Cauldron Hollow, alone. The intention of the sender was questionable, but why dwell on such menial things? After all, for one thing, he came well-equipped. He wore blood-red chain armor, complete with a hood with some poor, unfortunate souls being sentenced to spend all eternity inside a piece of cloth. Really whomever ordered that sentence, must not have been very bright. He rolled his eyes. Once again, minor details did not matter, though they could not cease to pester him. Ranger's instinct, most likely. He wore two twin swords at his belt in case he would ever need them, and just for kicks, his bow was concealed behind his cloak sporting the symbol of Bristlebane. Laxir frowned. Ever since, he pledged to follow the god of pranks, most Teir'Dal sneered behind his back. But none ever doubted his skill, the finesse in which he silenced his targets.

He stepped up to the gate and muttered some words in Thexian. "Open for me, dark gate of the cursed." The gate burned with the symbol, "L" then swung open to admit him. Laxir stepped inside, and was met with a surprising sight. He expected some dark necromancer ready to launch fifty undead and he would have to take part in a heroic battle for his life. What he was not expecting was a group of adventurers chattering to each other. One of the adventurers was one of those little annoying Arasai that always trip over themselves when addressing a Teir'Dal, especially if that Teir'Dal were someone of importance. He was dressed in brown summoning robes, and had a strange mixture of colors on his own body. His skin was purple, his eyes were red, and his hair was blue. Another adventurer was armed to the teeth, dressed in silver armor with red outlines. He seemed muscular and large, a Barbarian by his accent. He carried a rather large sword that Laxir would prefer not ending up on. A third was smaller than the second, appearing humble, yet still well-armed. He wore pure white armor with a flowing cyan cloak. He appeared to be one of those sniveling followers of Mithaniel Marr, that so-called virtuous god. The fourth and last was a character similarly dressed as the Arasai, though not quite the perky type, an Erudite, by the looks of him. He seemed to be absent-mindedly listening to the conversation, as though deep in thought. Laxir cleared his throat. "Might I inquire as to who in Innoruuk's name you are?"

The white-armoured one rose and strolled over to greet him. "Well met. I see you got my invitation?"

"Your invitation?" Laxir scoffed. This man seemed hardly the type to go around inviting random people for a chit-chat in one of the many haunted places in Norrath, let alone inviting a Teir'Dal of such high prestige.

"Yes, mine." the man replied, not noticing or perhaps not caring about the scathing response. "My name's Aldamir. Yours?"

"Laxir. Laxir Nightwing." Laxir muttered.

"Nightwing, eh? Sounds like a strange surname for a Teir'Dal."

"I work alone, and don't dwell in silly undead magicks, unlike my brethren." Laxir replied in an icy manner.

The man, Aldamir, shrugged. "Whatever works with you. Come over to the fire and I'll explain why I sent for you." Aldamir then turned around, and walked back to the campfire, with Laxir slowly approaching. "Hello, fellow adventurers! May I introduce the final member of our team?"

The Erudite quizzically raised his eyebrows, while the Arasai squealed in joy. He began flitting around Laxir, exclaiming random things Laxir could only just be bothered to hear. "Hi! I'm Presar! What's your name? Is it Presar too? Do you like this place? It's so damp! I just wanted to say-"

"Stow it, you over-excited pile of wings." Laxir said abruptly, cutting the Arasai short.

Presar seemed sad, but not for long. This would be a lot of fun. An Arasai that could do with a dunk in the Nektulos Sea, a typical Erudite, a paladin who seemed to know nothing besides being friendly, and the Barbarian., just lovely. Laxir sat down with the other four and warmed himself at the fire.

"The Erudite over there calls himself Seatiln. Quiet fellow, that lad. As for the Barbarian, well, his name isn't the...best."

The Barbarian immediately sprang to his feet, drawing his wicked sword. "I'd like to hear that from your tongue again, light-bringer!"

"Calm down, Barbare. It was a jest." Aldamir replied.

Seatiln rolled his eyes, and Laxir figured he should ask the question nagging at his mind for so long. "So, why am I here?"

Aldamir turned to Laxir, and addressed his question. "Evil." was all he said.

Almost as soon as he said that, the clearing darkened, and Presar hid behind Laxir's cloak, only to prick his finger on the bow there. Laxir, meanwhile, just stared at Aldamir as if he'd turned into Rallos Zek and was sending out death threats. "Evil?" he asked, dumbfounded, "But evil is everywhere! Of course, there is! Now be more specific before I think I've wasted my time and you are impaled on my sword."

"I cannot be more specific. The evil we need to eliminate is everywhere, spread throughout Norrath. Beings of evil somehow return to this world, not through necromancy either. It's puzzling. Tell me, what evils have you slain?" Aldamir inquired.

"Oh, plenty. Let's see, there was that emperor of Deathfist who had the worst family I've ever seen. There was that horror, Tseralith. The mad magician, Varsoon. Quite a lot to be honest." Laxir replied steadily.

Laxir could swear Aldamir was grinning behind his helmet. "Well, hate to break it to you, but they've all come back. Even my enemy, Lord Chesguard." Aldamir muttered to himself, most likely cursing in some tongue. "We believe a rogue Sarnak by the name of Sebio is responsible. We also think he has a partner, an Iksar by the name of Batork. Are you in?"

Laxir shrugged. "I've nothing better to do and it looks like I have to re-settle some old scores again. I'm in."

Aldamir nodded, half to himself, half to the rest of the group. "Then we are a fellowship. May we smite this evil. For Norrath!"

The other four adventurers echoed his cry. "For Norrath!"


A/N: Well, that was fun! I am accepting the following:

-Characters, if you want to submit one.

-Reviews, of course. :P

A note about Chilling Winds:

Some may be wondering when Chapter 3 of my first fanfiction will be up. I assure you that I am working on it, but it is coming along slowly. Do not be alarmed. :P