Alaron was not by any means your typical elf. First of all, he hated elves with a passion, whether they were high elves, sun elves, moon elves, dark elves, or any of the other variations, he hated them. Second, he did not live among elves; He had been exiled when he was young for crimes he no longer cared to think about, or ever cared to tell anyone. He also held no particular esteem for the elves favored arts, typically magic, and any craftsmanship that resulted in beauty. He was like an elf, however, in the cases that he favored his bow as a primary weapon, and was quite adept at tracking. He was a solitary person, also typical of elves, his only friend being a giant eagle named Natu he had been with since the first days of his exile, having stolen the egg from his village's aviary in his flight. He spent his days flying over the skies of faerun on Natu's back, scouring the landscape for elves with his keen eyes. While not religiously affiliated, those who knew of him but not of his past believed him to be on some sort of unholy crusade against elves. He did not strike himself as a crusader; he simply hunted that which he knew to fight best, as any ranger would.
His many years of adventure, beginning with his exile at the age of 20, bringing him to his age of 57, still very young for an elf, had brought him much skill, and as adventuring always did, enchanted items. He had many trinkets, but his one most prized possession was his bow, which he had come to name The Bow of the Exile. It was fearsome to behold, as it was all black, with two rows of tiny blades lining the arms of the bow, and numerous runes covering its surface. It had two strings, one set slightly further ahead than the other, which allowed him, at the expense of accuracy, which Alaron had no shortage of, to shoot faster than a small squadron of bowmen. The bow never left his grip, even when he slept, so he was ready for all attackers.
As he did on a regular basis, Alaron was flying over a forest, scouring the horizon and the canopy for elven settlements atop Natu's back. The mighty eagle, of a breed normally led towards good, and the aid of good creatures, was a wicked killer, with razor sharp beak and talons, and had become accustomed to eating elf flesh. He had eyes as sharp as Alaron's, and the two rarely missed an encampment of their hated enemy. This particular morning was clear, and an elf had yet to be seen. He allowed himself a rare smile at the thought that this forest had been wiped clean of the scum, but knew it to be unlikely.
Natu suddenly angled downward, diving at the earth. Alaron gripped tightly, recognizing the movements of the bird when it was threatened. The bird spun rapidly in a frantic barrel roll as he dove, changing his direction back upward when he was close to the ground before stopping to allow Alaron to get off. He raised and lowered his talons restlessly, and Alaron hopped off, ruffling the birds neck feathers. It seemed to calm him slightly, and he looked around. Alaron turned to see an older man in red robes smoking a pipe walking through the forest as if it were his own home. Alaron looked at him quizzically, and he just grinned madly.
"Who are you?" Alaron asked angrily.
"You mean you don't know me?" The man asked, surprised. "That doesn't happen often."
"Appearances can be deceiving, I know who you look like, but are you him?"
"If you mean to ask, am I Elminster of Shadowdale, the answer would be yes."
"Fascinating that we should meet under such pretenses."
"And what pretenses would those be?" Elminster asked playfully. Alaron responded by raising his bow and nocking an arrow with uncomparable speed, letting the shaft fly, aimed between Elminster's eyes. It flew straight and true until it came within inches of his face, then diverting to the left of his head as if that had always been its path.
"You said you knew who I was." Elminster said with a surprising tone.
"I do."
"And yet you think I wouldn't have had the forethought to defend myself from you, who has truly only one method of deliverance?"
"A man can hope, can he not?" Alaron said angrily. "If you have no practical reason for wasting my time, then I shall leave. Good day, Elminster of Shadowdale." Alaron hopped on Natu, and attempted to take flight. Natu began to run along the ground, then jump, failed to get airborne, and landed back onto the ground. Alaron immediately hopped off and marched over to Elminster angrily.
"Perhaps your friend needs to learn how to fly again. I have heard that in rare cases-"
"Shut up, you old fool! You know exactly what is wrong with him, and you are going to fix it now!" Alaron said as he drew a long knife and held it to the old man's throat.
"When you've been around as long as I have, you tend to be threatened a lot." Alaron glared at him, unimpressed. "With your knife at my throat, I feel perfectly at home." Elminster smiled. Alaron ripped his arm away, cutting clean through Elminster's throat. As blood spewed from the wound, Elminster smiled and waved. He disappeared suddenly, and Alaron stood around, bringing his dagger around to bear. Elminster stood by Natu, petting the clearly uncomfortable bird.
"Move away from him, or I will kill you."
"So the exile does have a friend, then?" Alaron dropped the dagger, taking up his bow once more, knocking four arrows onto each string, and loosing them at Elminster. He repeated the process 6 times, each taking about a single second, before stopping to rest briefly, breathing heavily. Elminster simply held up a single hand in front of him, and an invisible barrier stopped the arrows from touching him. They all clacked to the ground harmlessly.
"Forty-two arrows? That is impressive indeed, especially when they all managed to be dead center on the target." Elminster commented as he counted the arrows. He collected them, and walked back over to Alaron, and handed them to him. Alaron brought bow to bear once more, using the blades on the edge as a melee weapon, slashing at Elminster. The bow flew out of his hand, and he fell to his knees in a kneeling position.
"Ah, good, now that I have your attention…"
"Go to hell, old man."
"Tisk tisk, you really should consider respecting your elders. All this violence could be simply avoided."
"Just kill me then. It is certainly within your means." Alaron said as he struggled to regain his footing, but couldn't move a muscle.
"I did not come here to kill you, Alaron the Exile."
"Then why are you here?" Alaron asked angrily.
"An interesting question! Odd, that a man such as I, typically known as a kind and goodly wizard, would come here to ask you, a man with unparalleled hate for his own kind, for a favor."
"You want a favor?" Alaron said, each word Elminster said fueling his hatred more and more.
"Ah, now that you're cooperating, just stay there for a moment and listen." Elminster smiled, and Alaron snarled. "You may have noticed that the land of Faerun grows restless as the past few decades have past. Two centuries of peace tend to do that to a world accustomed to being torn by war."
"Get to the point…"
"Very well. This is what I wish of you; I want you, and two others you will meet very soon, to become a force so hated, and despised by the people of Faerun, that the continent will rally against you. This task will in all likelihood end in your death, of course."
"And if I refuse the favor?"
"You die here and now. One less vessel of evil in Faerun is not something I will lose sleep over."
"Fine…When will I meet these other two?"
"A few days from now. I will put them in contact with you, as soon as I have gathered their assistance. I doubt they will be quite as malevolent as you. Until then, have a nice day." Elminster said with a smile, and as he nodded his head, and tipped his pipe, he vanished.
Kalecgos was a human wizard of immense knowledge, power, and evil. He did not relish the destruction of life, or civilization, that was not what made him evil. What did make him evil was his quest for power, and the horrible, unspeakable things he would do to attain that power. The one thing that set him apart from a standard wizard, was that in addition to his mastery of the learned art of wizardry, he had also mastered the powers he had inherited in his blood, that of sorcery.
He had lived as a wanderer for many years, having long ago attained a spell to extend his own life, in a never-ending search to master every spell known to man, demon, and dragon. One day, he came across a vortex, specifically called an eternal vortex. This was the kind of power wizards spent their entire lives to find, and most failed. He realized then that he could not leave this spot, because he needed to meditate at this vortex yearly, to retain its power, and if another wizard were to discover it, they could claim its power from him. He built a tower around it, with his third basement level containing the vortex.
This vortex, and the use of its power, conflicted with his quest to master every spell, so he sat for a long while and thought about it. He soon came up with a plan, which would allow him to maintain the vortex's power, while furthering his quest. He soon put out the word that he was opening a new wizard's school in his tower, which he had magically magnified, of course, and he would simply learn spells from his students. This slaked his hunger for power for some time, and he became content to pore over tome after tome of forgotten lore. Eventually, as was typical, his students became powerful in their own right, and he would send them on quests to "further the school". Eventually, he had new tomes coming in nearly every day, and his repertoire expanded endlessly.
He became paranoid of losing the vortex, and so his tower became laden with defensive wards, no room more protected than the third basement level. He would not allow there to be a magic phrase that could save someone from his wards, and so he protected his room with undefeatable spells that would be unleashed upon the intruder, even if it were himself, and to survive, it would require a number of protective wards on the user, spanning across all schools of magic, so that no specialist wizard could possibly defend against them all. When he was finally satisfied with its protection, he began to lure more prospective students to its power, with empty promises of allowing them to use it. This of course lured in both good and evil wizards, and more spell books for Kalecgos to copy.
Kalecgos sat in front of the vortex, as he must once per year, and meditated. This process took absolute concentration, and lasted for hours on end. For this reason, he gave his students a vacation from their studies and duties on this day, to ensure he would have no distractions. He also redoubled his protective efforts on his tower over the week prior, and with that, he sat down to meditate. The vortex swirled mystically in front of the mighty wizard, who began to draw upon its power as he meditated.
He heard footsteps, very soft, and a solid tapping, as if someone crossed his floor with a walking stick. He closed out the noise, hoping it was just in his mind. The steps grew louder and louder as they crossed the floor, and he became convinced it was no longer in his mind. He knew he was close to finishing the ritual, and hoped they would leave him be until he was done, and then he would be free to destroy the intruder.
"So, you found one, eh?" A voice connected itself to the tapping feet, and Kalecgos could feel someone breathing over his shoulder. He continued to close out the distraction, an easy feat for a wizard of his skill. "It may have been a very long time, but I doubt you've forgotten that I hate being ignored." Kalecgos tried to ignore the comment, but it was difficult. This was someone he knew, someone he had met before, and apparently known well. "I have a favor to ask of you, Kalecgos." The person knew his name, so he had not been incorrect. He knew the person, but could not remember the voice, and thus could not identify the intruder. Perhaps more disturbing was that the intruder had passed through all his wards and defenses without even alerting Kalecgos, and then hadn't bothered to silence his feet as he crossed the stone floor. Kalecgos felt something solid touch between his eyes, and felt it's pressure get stronger. He was forced backwards until he fell over onto his back. His concentration shattered, he opened his eyes, and looked upon the wizened features of Elminster of Shadowdale, his one-time mentor. "Ah, now that I have your attention, about that favor." Elminster grinned as he stood over Kalecgos.
"Of…of course, Elminster." Kalecgos hadn't seen this man in over a century, and it now made sense how the intruder had made it into his tower without alerting him.
"I know you're a busy man, and I know you have some meditating to resume, so I won't waste your time with small talk. We will have to catch up some other time." Elminster walked away from the prone wizard, and continued. "I don't know how much time you spend outside, but Faerun grows restless. Two centuries of peace do not bode well for ancient grudges and rivalries. Nations are baying at nations, you get the idea."
"And what is it you would want me to do about this?"
"A simple task, really, for one of your inclinations. You, and two others, will become a truly hated force, and faerun will rally against you. This will most likely result in your death, of course, but you can die when you are defeated by the combined forces, or you can die right now." Elminster leaned in closer, to whisper into his ear. "I know you didn't prepare your spells before coming to meditate this morning, and so I would recommend the first choice." Elminster stood back up. "You could, however, attempt to defeat me with your innate spells alone, but I wouldn't suggest that course of action."
"I accept your task, Elminster."
"Good!" Elminster offered a hand and helped Kalecgos up. "You will meet the other two in a few days time, once I've rallied up the final member."
"Fine. May I resume my meditation?"
"You may, and by the way, I congratulate you on your wise decision. You have come far since your headstrong days as my apprentice." Kalecgos nodded and resumed his meditation. It took him some time to resume his concentration, rattled as he was by his meeting with his former master.
Kathrin, or Lady Kathrin, as she fancied herself, was a child of the nobility of Waterdeep. Her father was actually once one of the reclusive nobles known as the Lords of Waterdeep. When she was just a girl of twelve, the other Lords conspired against, and killed her father. The day before the murder, her father had come to her in a panic, telling her of the conspiracy, and their plans to kill him. He told her, should he die, for her to bring the evidence to the town guard. She did just that, but the guards were too cowardly to rise up and take just action against those who signed their payroll.
She inherited her father's mansion as the sole owner, and was told that the city of Waterdeep would pay for her to keep her servitors and the land, so long as she wished to remain in Waterdeep. Because of her noble upbringing, she could not mingle with the common children, but because of her technical lack of noble status, she could not mingle with the noble children, and so, she remained alone in her mansion until the age of 16.
At the age of 16, after she was finished with her mourning over her father, and mourning over her own miserable life, and contemplating suicide, she again found a purpose to live. She would take revenge upon the Lords of Waterdeep for what they did to her father, and what they did to her. A 16-year-old girl could not, of course, cause a political uprising, so she needed a plan. What she came up with was training herself to be an assassin. She ordered her servants to go buy her the necessary tools without question, and her training began. Five long years went by, her solitary training beginning at dawn and ending at dusk, with only short breaks for food and water. She even managed to come across an old tome that told of rogues who became able to teleport through shadows, and hide even in broad daylight. She soon became capable of these amazing feats of stealth, and still she knew she could not do this alone.
On her 21st birthday, when Waterdeep considered her a grown woman, she opened a Lady's school. She would take the daughters of nobles, presenting herself as a well mannered and beautiful woman, and promised to teach the girls to be trained as such. They agreed, and paid her handsomely. She did, of course, teach them to be ladies, but she also taught them to "defend" themselves. This of course was what she told the children, not the parents, but what she actually was doing was training them to be shadow dancers, those long forgotten rogues capable of stepping into a shadow, and reappearing in another.
She eventually came to the realization that she could train these girls all she wanted, but they would eventually grow out of it, and without the burning hatred she had, they would not serve her forever. What she did at this point was the first time she had ever truly done something that was evil. She would go out into the city periodically, and fine young girls with their mothers, no older than three, to ensure they didn't yet have a cohesive memory, and walk with them into the shadows. She did this once every few months, so as to not draw suspicion, and began to raise these girls as her own. She also decided to look around the brothels of Waterdeep, offering to take the daughters of prostitutes from them, to offer them a good life. She did this in the open, playing it as a charity effort, to improve the condition of Waterdeep's children.
This all went on for years, and her title within her own home was mother, especially to the children that she had raised as her own. She would not take any male children, only females, because the art she taught them required them to be artful dancers, something she did not believe men capable of. Nine years passed since she opened her school, and now her oldest "adopted" children were twelve years of age, while some were only new born. She had taken one child each season, which had given her 36 children, not counting the children she had adopted from prostitutes and vagabonds. In nine years, the children that she had raised to fanatically serve her had grown to nearly one hundred.
"Mother, someone is here to see you." One of her daughters walked into her room as she sat in her private quarters, dressed in all black, looking out the window.
"You know I do not see visitors on this day, my dear."
"I know, mother, but we told him that, and he will not leave. It's Captain Morik of the town guard, and he is spewing accusations that are something most vile."
"Very well, bring him to the black room, and tell him I will see him shortly."
"Yes, mother." Lady Kathrin had designed her mansion specifically for entertaining guests, and had made several rooms to go along with her varying moods. They were named after the color that was most prevalent, and the black room was typically used only on one day each year. That day was the anniversary of her father's murder; a day she took no visitors, entertained no guests, and rarely saw her own children. They knew not to disturb their mother on this day, except for the most important reasons.
The black room was gloomy, with little light. It had black, transparent curtains hanging over the closed windows, with all black furniture. The few lamps in the room had black film over them, which emitted an eerie demeanor. Captain Morik paced in the room, not willing to take a seat on such an important matter. When Kathrin finally strode in nonchalantly he marched over to her, getting in her face.
"We know what you've been doing, Lady Kathrin!"
"You should know, I don't entertain guests on this day."
"Well then I appreciate the courtesy, but you aren't going to pity your way out of this one! Waterdeep has enough scum in it's walls without you here!"
"What, exactly, are you accusing me of this time, Captain?"
"You have been training the girls at your school!"
"Yes, to be ladies. Is that a crime? If it has become one, I will most certainly stop."
"Not to be ladies, to be assassins! Rogues, thieves!"
"I have done no such thing, Captain. This is a school that teaches manners, and lady-like conduct, nothing more."
"That's bullshit and you know it, Kathrin!"
"Address her as Lady, Captain Morik!"
"Elizabeth, go to your room." Kathrin said without turning her head. The girl rushed away.
"You are a kidnapper and you know it, Kathrin. I know it, you know it, the town knows it. The only people that don't know it are your 'daughters'."
"If you had any proof of a crime I had committed, I would be under arrest, Captain. By all means, if you can prove I have done something wrong, in the interest of civility in Waterdeep, arrest me, but if you have no proof, please leave my home. This is a day of grieving for me, not of arguing pointless accusations." The captain began to speak, but held his tongue, all his momentum stolen.
"The next time I come here, you are leaving in manacles, Kathrin!" He shouted, and stormed out.
"Well then I doubt I'll be seeing you in my home again, Captain. Hopefully you hold true to your word." Kathrin said, and as he left the room, she sighed.
"You're quite the clever woman, aren't you?" A voice from behind Kathrin said. It was not the captain, nor was it one of her girls. It was that of a man, an old man, certainly, but not one that quivered with frailty, one that resounded with wisdom. She turned to see Elminster, seated in one of her more lavish chairs. He had one leg rested on the other while he smoked his pipe and read a book he had found. She offered a short curtsie, nodding her head.
"Elminster, what a pleasant surprise." She said with a hint of frustration in her voice.
"Good! You know who I am, we can skip the formalities."
"Who doesn't know who you are?"
"I said skip the formalities, the owner of a lady's school should know that would imply we skip the pleasantries as well."
"Fine, why are you in my home, and what do you want with me and my school?"
"There we are." Elminster rose from the chair, and a noticeable crack resounded as he stood. "I do hate getting old." Elminster put a hand on his back and stretched a little.
"Rumor has it you haven't gotten any older in quite some time, Elminster."
"Yes, yes, rumor also has it I slept with a god, and that there are a dozen Manshoons running around trying to reclaim his assets. Don't believe everything you hear, Lady Kathrin." She kept a stoic look on her face as he continued. "I'm here to enlist your aid."
"And what can someone such as I do to help someone such as you?"
"Ah, an interesting question! Rumor has it I am of the goodly type of person, which is true, and rumor has it that your are not of the goodly disposition, and that is why I am here."
"I am not a wicked woman, sir."
"You can fool the good captain, but you cannot fool me. Let's just skip the he said – she said part of the conversation, and get to the favor I would ask of you."
"Fine, what is it you want?"
"You, and two others I've chosen, are going to team up, and become a force to be reckoned with in Faerun; a force so dangerous that all of Faerun will rally together to destroy you. This task will most likely mean your death."
"Then why would I accept, Mr. Elminster?"
"Because it's that, or I can kill you now. One less scum on the surface of Faerun will not bother me any."
"You would leave all these children motherless?"
"Do not try and make me pity you and your schoolgirls, I have been around long enough to know that the human race has a way of surviving through even the most imposing odds."
"When will I meet the others?"
"Soon, whenever I decide to put you in contact with them." Elminster walked towards the exit. "And by all means, take your time once you have, Faerun has been baying for blood for a century, I do not think a decade or so will cause a problem. I am intervening long before necessary."
"Fine, I will eagerly await the meeting."
"Excellent, I will see you in a few days then."
"Oh, will you be joining us?"
"Briefly, only as long as it takes for introductions to be made." He walked around the corner, then poked his head back around. "See you in a few days!"