Prologue
For the second time that day, Elaeis Kreydan tumbled head over heals through the winding vortex that happened to be a corridor
For the second time that day, Elaeis Kreydan tumbled head over heals through the winding vortex that happened to be a corridor for astral travel. Although his pride would not allow him to admit it to anyone, he was silently in awe of the free floating clouds as they danced across his path with an incandescent glow. The way they seemed to twist and billow as they wrapped him in a silvery sheen that truly was ethereal. It was an effect only spoiled by the blood that was ran out from the many wounds that littered his body.
Elaeis felt himself begin to speed up and down towards where the corridor converged, he began to make out faint traces of black amidst the silver, and he knew that he was nearing Faerun. For that, Elaeis breathed a deep breath of relief. Despite his momentary infatuation with Astral Travel, his injuries demanded that he return to Faerun with all haste. As Elaeis bounced along the astral corridor, a twinge of concern began to grow deep in the pit of his stomach.
During his adventures to locate both the traitors to Neverwinter and the Source Stones, he had been protected from Nasher's retribution by the Lord's almost dire need for Elaeis' abilities. Now that the crisis was over and the city could begin to rebuild itself, would the Lord keep to his end of the deal and release Elaeis from Neverwinter without question?
Elaeis doubted it. He didn't trust the lord of Neverwinter, however honourable the man may pretend to be. Elaeis had seen too many too rulers make the claim that their reign and was righteous and that only they were fit to rule. Most often this was not the case. Blinded by their power and made ineffective by their complacency they wallowed in luxury and allowed those beneath then to suffer in poverty and silence.
His musings ended as he was hurled from the Astral Plane and into the small cavern that had previously held the final source stone, and narrowly avoided coming to rest in the dank waters that surrounded the square-shaped little island.
Elaeis managed to push himself almost to his knees before a searing pain along the inside of his right leg stopped him. Taking a quick glance, he could see the river of blood that was flowing down his right leg. With a vile curse, he knew he had somehow managed to cut into one of the main veins.
Checking the small pack in his lower back, Elaeis came to the rather irritating conclusion that he had managed to deplete his entire collection of bandages, which was no surprise given his propensity to injure himself. Removing a vambrace, he tore the sleeve off his shirt and tied a tight tourniquet an inch above the nasty gash.
He waited for a few seconds for the blood flow to reduce and then made a somewhat valiant effort to hobble across the stone bridge into the adjoining chamber and then to the foot of the stairs where he paused and gave the stairs a determined glare. All he wanted to do was find a nice comfy mattress in some safe, out-of-the-way hole and collapse. It seemed as though that idea would have to be put on hold until he could scale the stair well that now seemed much larger than when he had originally descended them.
Never to be put off by a task, no matter what the circumstances, Elaeis doggedly pushed on up the stairs despite the fiery pain that erupted over the entire expanse of his body. Oddly enough though, the gash along his leg was strangely numb. It was so numb in fact, that he felt no pain even as he collapsed after his third step and came crashing back down with a resonating bang.
Lying there, Elaeis could swear that he felt a few bones break on impact and he was rather certain that his left ankle shouldn't be able to bend the way it was. He felt cold, and not just from the damp of the stone floor. Around the edges of his vision, Elaeis could see blackness begin to multiply. The last thing Elaeis Kreydan remembered was losing his hearing before passing into a world of darkness.