Well, here's my first fanfiction thingie...I'm about as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
Disclaimer: Contrary to popular belief, I do not, nor have I ever, owned Everquest...or anything else that might be referenced in this story ::coughSpider-mancough::...so try not to sue me..(though even if you did, you wouldn't get much) The only stuff in here that's actually mine is the main character and his family...they owe me money...long story.
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Who am I? Are you sure you want to know? My story is not for the faint of heart, or the slender of kidney. If someone told you that my life was all happy, that I was a normal elf, not a care in the world...someone lied. And I shall smite them with my Toothpick of Might for spreading rumors!
There's a lot to go over, so I'll start at the middle. My first adventure. It's like your first kiss or your first burnt piece of bread. You never forget it. The Ceremony of Rebirth is one everyone knows, so I won't repeat it here. This tale starts the next day.
Day 1, Year of the Asp, Month Firiona
There I was, in Nagafen's Lair, facing the dragon himself. My friends and guild members were strewn around the room, with various injuries. Most of them wouldn't stand another attack. Lord Nagafen stared at me, his last standing adversary, with hatred. We dared to enter his lair and attack him? We knew we could make it to him. We knew we could defeat him, but he had some defenses we hadn't counted on. Now that his fire giant guards lay dead before him, and his life near its end, along with ours, he knew it was the end. I took up my scimitar and charged. I was ready to strike when a curious chime started ringing in my ears. I ignored it at first, but then it grew so loud that it started to hurt. Just when I realized my head was going to explode from this strange magic...I woke up.
My head slowly sprouted from beneath my blanket, looking for the source of the noise that destroyed my best dream in ages. My eyes locked onto their target, and watched as my foot kicked the Geerlok Alarm Machine from a nearby table, finally silencing it. I was ready to go back to sleep, but my head wasn't about to let me off that easy. It formed a headache that made me wonder if I'd ever be able to think again.
"Oh, now you wake up." My older sister poked her head inside my doorway. "It's about time. Did you think you were going to get out of it?
Her voice somehow made my headache bigger. I briefly wondered if I would be able to drop her into The Hole with such a headache, then figured it wouldn't be worth the trouble. "Do you have to shout? I've got such a big headache, I don't think I'll be able to move at all today."
Nirce walked over to me, whispered a few words, and put her hand on my head. In a moment, my headache was completely gone. "Satisfied?" she asked, with her usual tone of superiority.
I rubbed my head. "Yeah, well, I guess you're good for something after all."
"Hey, I'm not the one that drank all that ale last night. No wonder you got a headache. But now that you're all better, you're fit to do your share of the chores. You're cooking today." Not waiting for my response, she left my room quickly. "Great," I muttered. There wasn't a way to get out of it now. I sighed, dressed in my new outfit, and went to prepare breakfast.
Baking isn't the skill most people think I have, when they look at me. After all, wood elves are known mostly for their fletching, tailoring, and sometimes, blacksmithing prowess. My family decided it would be good for all of us to concentrate on a certain skill to pass the time. Sometimes our own projects even depended on someone else's skills to complete them. My father took smithing, my mother took jewelcraft, my sister took fletching, and I took baking. It's a pretty useful skill, since everyone has to eat. It doesn't earn much money, but when it's successful, a baker can make food for themselves can seems to taste better than anyone else's, even better than the bland rations you can find on some merchants.
As I stirred eggs around in a pan and added ingredients, I thought about what the day would bring. It was my first day of my new life. Out here, when you matured to the right age, and were tested in basic knowledge, you were allowed to pick a Life Path. Kelethin didn't offer the same choices as, say, our neighboring city, Felwithe. But then, you can't change your birth town. When I was younger, all I wanted to do was be a spell caster from one of the three major schools of magic: Magician, Enchanter, or Wizard. I've heard of a secret fourth school, Necromancy, but everything about it sounded vile. Only the worst of the worst use it, and are among our most dangerous enemies. I've never met a necromancer, and don't plan on doing so anytime soon.
When the food was ready, I put some on everyone's plate and sat down. Before every meal, my parents insisted on giving thanks to Tunare, the Mother of All. I still had my doubts about the effect such a goddess had on our daily lives, but I didn't have much choice. Both of my parents are druids, and my sister is a ranger. I chose to be a druid because it seemed to be the closest I would come to being a true spell caster, but being a druid, you had to pick a deity to worship, in order to receive the full benefits of your Life Path. I could have chosen Karana, the Rain Keeper, but it wouldn't have made my parents very happy. Besides, from what I hear, he seems to affect farmers the most, out on the plains of Antonica.
My mother took a few bites of her omelet and looked at me with a look of mild surprise. "This is pretty good, Tain. New recipe?"
I beamed at her. "Yep. Heard about it from a bard that passed through Kelethin the other day. He didn't know what the original baker named it, but swore it tasted better than any normal egg recipe. I call it a Ranger's Omelet."
My sister gave me one of her looks. "Very funny, twerp. I didn't know you missed your headache that much. I can certainly give it back."
My mother rolled her eyes at us. "Oh hush, you two. I think it's a fine name for a fine meal. Now hurry up and finish, Tain. I'm sure you'll be summoned soon."
Some while later, there was a knock at the door. A letter had come for me from my new guild master. It read:
We are the Soldiers of Tunare, protectors of this
great forest, known as the Faydark. Seek out the
Heartwood Master, and give him this note. He
will teach you the ways of Tunare.
I gathered some supplies in a backpack, waved goodbye to my family, and set out to begin my new Life Path at the Kelethin Druid Guild.
Kelethin isn't the easiest city to travel across, except for the beings that inhabit it. From a young age, the elves of Kelethin are taught the ins and outs of their city in the trees. If you're not careful, your first step can be your last. The enormous height of the walkways can be a danger, or they can be the epitome of safety. More dangerous things lurk on the ground floor of this forest than simply a matter of gravity. The Crushbone Clan of orcs is the closest enemy to our city, and routinely sends out its Pawns and Centurions to prey on the trees, young elves, and unwary travelers that populate the Greater Faydark. We're closer to the orcs' northern castle stronghold than our cousins in Felwithe, but they're usually in as much danger as we are. At least, when they see fit to venture outside their own fortress' walls.
If you ask me, those high elves are a little full of themselves. They certainly don't treat my kind with much respect, if any. My childhood was mostly happy, but it didn't help that I was – am – a half-breed. My parents are both druids, but my mother is a true wood elf, while my father is a true human. My sister and I are actually called half-elves. It's true enough, though not one of the best terms. We've been called worse, of course, but mostly by young high elves. High elves can't control their freer wood elf cousins, but decide they can frown on many of their practices, especially when they mate with humans. Therefore, a half-elf doesn't get much respect in the presence of high elves or humans. I might actually be able to thank Tunare for something, that I was born in a city that had plenty of us running around. So we're at least tolerated, if not fully accepted, in Kelethin.
As I ran down the final set of walkways to the Druid Guild, I was ready to collapse. Somehow I just knew that someone had made the walkways move during the night so that our house was the one farthest away from the Guild house. It never seemed this far before.
I opened the front doors and a warm breeze washed over me. The smells of roasted meat swirled around my head, making me wish I hadn't already eaten. What must have been the Guild's cook was busy in the back room, making the midday meal for the building's inhabitants. My mind was so concentrated on the scent that I almost ran over the tall elf in front of me.
"Oh, excuse me," I managed. It was bad enough that I didn't look where I was going, but the man I almost crashed into was the one I was there to see.
Heartwood Master let out a good laugh. "That's alright, young one. This place does have a good smell, doesn't it? Can I help you?" I gave him the note that summoned me there. "Ah, I understand. Tain, is it? Welcome! We are the Soldiers of Tunare, the sworn protectors of Faydark. I thank you for joining our cause, we can always use the help." He walked over to a chest and took out a green and tan tunic. "Here, put on this tunic and let's get started, you have much to learn."