Here, we take a look back to the months shortly after Chapter Two. A little bit of Jonathanas's pedigree is unearthed, but the full story is in another fic, currently in progress. Jonathanas enjoyed total protection from dismissal and similar spells--for no particular reason, he was treated as a native of whatever plane he was on at the time. He also had good relations with everyone he met--technically, this was because he put maximum ranks in Diplomacy, but in the end it just made him more of a Stu.
--
Lessons in Loss
587 CY
Grunthark the hobgoblin was having a terrible week.
His home in flames, his tribe put to the sword, and worst of all, his fiancée, Kira, was dead. He had nowhere to go, for who would give shelter, or even mercy, to a hob? He had nothing but a mithral breastplate, a long-sword, a few coins, his spell components, and one magic scroll. His only option, it seemed, was to work as a mercenary.
He wandered on for about a month, until he reached the Orc city of Stoneheim. There, he found employment, and in no time at all, he had amassed enough wealth to purchase a tiny hut, with a shelf of books, a cabinet of spell components, and a small scrying vessel. Today, that scrying vessel was used for the first time.
Grunthark cast the requisite spell, and peered into the bowl of water. "Show me," he hissed, "show me the one who murdered Kira."
The waters rippled, and displayed an image of a young elf, about Grunthark's age, with long, brown hair, brown eyes, and a black pentagram tattooed on the back of his right hand. He carried a spell book, and wore the simple robes of a traveling wizard, but a sword hung at his side, and he looked as though he knew how to use it. A tiny dragon rode at his shoulder, and a lovely, red-haired elf maiden walked beside him.
Grunthark had prepared a more powerful spell to tell him more about the murderer, but he did not need it. Everyone anywhere in the multiverse knew this elf: Jonathanas II, son of Alein, the last of a line of potent inter-planar adventurers who went by the name of Darkstar.
What? Jonathanas Darkstar killed Kira? "This… can't be…"
No one had defeated a Darkstar in almost a thousand years. The last to do was a titanic red dragon called Ashardalon, who had slain Jonathanas's gods-only-knew-how-many-greats-grandmother, the druidess Dydd--and Ash had been slain three thousand years later by Dydd's grandson, the first Jonathanas, the namesake of the one Grunthark now watched. The Darkstars were invincible, legendary champions of the multiverse, who on several occasions had helped shape the very fabric of reality. The eldest of the clan had surpassed even the gods themselves. Jonathanas was just beginning his adventuring career, and already he had been to more dimensions than most adventurers of twice his level had even heard of. He possessed a strange mastery over the planes, making him immune to any hostile planar traits. He consorted freely with the angelic and the fiendish alike, strode through the realms of fire, ice, and darkness, and had even met Asmodeus in person (who then asked him for his autograph). To even contemplate challenging such a being was sheer madness. The only way to even survive a combat encounter with him would be to gain the same kind of plane-shaking power. But to do so would take centuries, maybe more.
Grunthark sighed, and turned away from his scrying bowl with a grim smile on his face. "I guess I'd better get started…"
