A life owed, a life paid. "Revised" part 1
The sounds of the battle echo throughout the cloudless noon sky above the giant crater, known as Dagnor's Cauldron. The sun reflects off the lake bouncing back upon the rocky cliffs of the crater.
A lone rat scampers out of the rock formation. With its disease skin, hanging loosely upon its thin frame it comes to a halt and stands on its back two feet.
The rat's nose points upward sniffing into the wind, its ears twitch as it turns its head into the sounds; and listens to more sounds of steel on steel, fire and magic echoing throughout Dagnor's Cauldron. As the sounds of magical thunder shakes the ground. The rat slips back on its four feet. It runs down the hill pass a lone elfin figure clad in green chain mail of his clan who is in a battle for his life with a group of cauldron goblins. Passing between the legs of the elf it runs into the lake and starts to swim away.
The elfin ranger knew that he was in trouble; soon, very soon, he will be joining the Goddess Tunare. His chain mail now covered in sweat and blood. His short brown straight hair now pasted to his forehead. Sweat drips down into his brown eyes stinging them. He blinks repeatedly to try to clear his vision, but it is no use. His left eye is swelling shut and his right is bleeding above the eyelid. There is a large gush on the right side of his face. Most of his chain mail now useless, offering little to no protection. Sections of his tunic are missing exposing damage skin and raw muscle. The gauntlet from his left hand now tatters, revealing bloody and bony knuckles.
His two swords caked in mud, and blood of the goblins feels heavy now. The ranger exhausted and outnumbered three to one the chance for escape now gone, continues to do his determined dance of the swords. Shifting from one foot to another, moving the swords in harmony and independently. The sword in his right hand finds an opening, shifts down and under into the goblin's rib cage while the one in his left moves to block a goblin's sword. As the sword rips into muscle and bone, sending the goblin backwards he senses that maybe this is his time to escape.
As two of the goblins continue to fight from the right and left of the ranger, the third, a shaman, takes a step backward and starts to wave its hands in a curious fashion while mumbling words.
Aluinon instantly realizing he was starting a prayer to whatever god the creature believed in, he also realizes he must stop that prayer. With his weight balance on his right foot, he makes a lunge for the shaman. Only to be knock off balance by the goblin to his left.
When the blue light erupts out of the shaman's hands, Aluinon watch as the healing begins to close the wound around the rib cage. The Fier'Dal knowing that death will come for him tries to stand and face the goblins like a ranger. On his two feet, he lets the swords drop from his hands. The ranger looking towards the clear blue sky starts to whisper a prayer to Tunare to be welcome home onto the plane of growth.
The goblins from the right and left of the ranger each seize an arm, while pointing their rusty swords into Aluinon side. They wait for the shaman to cast the final death spell.
Standing in front of the defeated ranger now, the shaman spreads his lips into a pointy grin, and starts to chants strange words. Pausing in mid chant, it turns its head to the left. The creature's toothy smile no longer there, its face goes from a look of panic to a look of horror, turning its body to the left and starts to raise its left arm.
A ball of heat and light explodes into its chest, sending the creature backwards onto the murky floor of the cauldron.
Fearing their prize was about to be taking away the remaining two carve into Aluinon sides causing him to drop to the ground.
Aluinon slipping into unconsciousness feels the warmth of the magic enter into his body arresting that unconsciousness, sending him into a state of twilight. Lying on the gray stones of the Cauldron, he listens to the battle above. This times the screams of the remaining two goblins, echo throughout the area, along with the sounds of the undead.
The slow mechanical sounds of skeleton warriors they make were so unmistakable; he heard it a hundred times before. Aluinon knows there are undead in the Cauldron, but he was sure that none of them was casters. Trying to regain enough strength to open his eyes, while pondering the question, "who would try to heal me?"
Slowly he tries to clear his vision just enough to see two sets of skeletal feet, but there are others. He heard orders in both the common tongue and another language that sound familiar; he listens to the incantations of at least two spell casters. The ranger watches the goblin stumble to the ground follow by a long sword that driven deep into its back. The third was quickly dispatch as much as the shaman was, with steel and magic slamming into its body until nothing was left but a shell of a once living creature.
The place of slaughter was now silent, and slaughter it was, they had no opportunity to offer any kind of a defense. The battlefield is now silent with the screams of pain and the sounds of magic now gone. Aluinon knows he may still be in trouble, lying on the ground. His head turn to the side; he senses a cool hand touching the side of his neck.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watches the shadow figure stand, in a voice of the common tongue "he lives, but for how long I do not know". As he notices, figures and shadows move above him. The ranger feels an effortless kick to his abdomen, unable to subdue the cry of pain that escapes from his throat.
The figures talking among themselves, Aluinon starts to realize why the language sounds familiar. The ranger had some experience with the words of this language from his training at the guild; it was the words of the Teir'Dal, the dark ones of Neriak. He now knows that he is in the company of the Fier'Dal enemy. As he listens to the words of one who is standing over him, talking in the common tongue to who appears to be the leader of the group, "no Jerigowyn, I will not heal him. He is Fier'Dal, an enemy of the people and deserves to die."
The leader showing more animosity now and growing weary of the language games that the cleric was playing slaps him across the face. Once more, in the common tongue this time, the leader snarls, "cousin, you will heal him now." Then adds, "You know I act in the name of my father."
Massaging his face, the cleric slips back into his native language, "you are not in the position to use your father's name here. We are here for your trials of age." Looking down at the ranger, he continues, "and this pet is not part of the test."
Jerigowyn moves within a inch of the cleric, looking him in the eye, and in the language of the Teir'Dal," Only I would tell you if this pet is part of my trials, not you," as he points to the rest of the party," and not them." Turning his attention back to the cleric, " This band's first commandment is to act upon my orders, and then you are here as a counsel observer and they are observers for the family. Not the other way around; remember that."
He looks down at the wounded ranger, "now heal him." Switching to the Fier'Dal tongue, "And one more thing Borekoth; do not question my orders. Do it again and you may not see home." He turns his glaze back to the cleric, and in a commanding tone, he said, "now heal him."
The cleric looks towards the falling ranger and starts to whisper a prayer to Innoruuk, the Prince of Hate for the power to heal this Fier'Dal. At first, the prayers go unheard and unanswered, but the cleric continues to pray.
Aluinon feeling the warmth of the magic enter into his body, with his strength returning, bones mending together, vision become clearer. He watches out of the corner of his eye the gash on his face closes.
With enough strength, the ranger sits up, and views six members of the Teir'Dal race with their ebony skin, and albino hair. He watches two of the Teir'Dals stand guard. He studies the closest one with his long white straight hair, ring mail armor, hard boots, red cloak, brown tunic and green trousers. The Teir'Dals's broadsword hangs across his back and he has a longbow at the ready. The second Teir'Dals's much as the same as the first, with his long white straight hair, ring mail, soft boots, gray cape, green trousers. He has his long sword and shield at the ready facing the other direction. The ranger makes a guess they are warriors of the Indigo Brotherhood.
It seems he was correct about the two casters; one is a wizard, with short white hair, low soft boots, blue robe, and a dagger at his side. In addition, the other is a necromancer, master of the undead, with his baldhead, low hard boots, black robe, gray jacket and gray trousers, dagger at his side, and a staff in his hand. The ranger watches his minion pacing back and forward in a mindless effort to guard and please his master.
His eyes move on to the cleric of Innoruuk with short white hair, wearing darken black ring mail, black cape, high boots, a shield over his shoulder and a mace at his side. He did not know whether to thank him or try to kill him.
The ranger watches the cleric who continues to talk to a tall Teir'Dal fighter, with short white straight hair, gray ring mail, hard boots, green cape and black trousers and a long sword at his side. The fighter, who appears to be a little older than he is, but is at least half of the age of the rest of the party. Watching a skeletal figure standing beside the fighter, Aluinon makes a guess this is not just a normal warrior, but also a knight of the shadows.
While keeping his eyes on the group, Aluinon remembers where he drops his swords, as he makes a move toward one of them, his eyes move toward the shadow knight. As he wraps his hand around the hilt, he notices the sword is unyielding. When his eyes move toward the blade of the sword, he notices a foot standing on the blade. His eyes continue from the foot to a leg, and then up the leg to see a member of the Indigo Brotherhood with his arms crossed over his chest looking down at Aluinon.
The warrior gives a short whistle causing the shadow knight to turn around and look at Aluinon.
As the knight of the shadows walk over to the ranger side and offer a hand to help him to his feet, but Aluinon remains still.
Aluinon opens his mouth as if to say something but quickly closes it, still fearing the worst, too afraid to ask the question, "why?" The ranger knows they could have watched the goblins slaughter him, it would have been entertainment for them, or they could have healed him just to kill him, again easy entertainment.
He knows they could still torture him or make him a slave. After all Crushbone is nearby, and the orcs always have room for one more slave, or they could take him back to Neriak to be a hostage. Aluinon tries to conceal a smile, thinking to himself, "Ransom, which will be a joke on them". The ranger knows he is only a minor member of the guild and had no family to remember him. He is alone in this world and now a prisoner of the Teir'Dal.
After an unbearable length of silence, the shadow knight finally asks the question in the tongue of the Fier'Dal, "What are you doing here?" The question was in a monotony tone, so perfect, no accent, it send chills up Aluinon spine.
The ranger swallows hard looking around to see six sets of eyes on him, to him it seems even the undead is looking at him. Again, he swallows, "I come looking for a ring of magic, which is said that some of these beasts may carry sometime."
The shadow knight said something to the warrior with the longbow that Aluinon could not make out, in return the warrior points to one of the dead goblins.
"The ring you seek, a ring of silver and of magic, is on that one," the shadow knight said in common, pointing to the same dead goblin as the warrior did just a moment ago. The shadow knight turns to his band and in his native tongue said," break camp now". The group starts to form a combat patrol formation.
Aluinon still unbelieving what had happen, what is happening, finally stands on his feet and ask, "Why?" The shadow knight turns to the ranger, a look of sadness crosses the his face, but no answer was return.
Aluinon knows he should not press the gift of luck that Tunare herself must be giving the ranger this day, but he has to know. Once more, he calls "Why?"
From over the hill now he hears in the language of the Fier'Dal, "A life owed, a life paid"
Thinking to himself for a split second, he knows he should not shout, but he does not understand, he has to know now. He shouts, "I don't understand, a life owed, a life paid?"
From a distance he hears," Thirteen seasons ago ranger, a life owed, a life paid."
The ranger walks over to the body of the goblin, while thinking," thirteen seasons ago ranger, a life owed, a life paid." As he bends down to search the body he remembers something, a vision crosses his mind "a life owed, you owe me your life now." He retrieved the ring right were the warrior said it will be. More memories of that time in his life, he remembers, "you can not kill me, and you owe me your life now." As if the sounds of thunder went off in his mind he remembers it all now, he trembles, too weak to stand, he is in Butcherblock Mountains thirteen seasons ago.
The sounds of the battle echo throughout the cloudless noon sky above the giant crater, known as Dagnor's Cauldron. The sun reflects off the lake bouncing back upon the rocky cliffs of the crater.
A lone rat scampers out of the rock formation. With its disease skin, hanging loosely upon its thin frame it comes to a halt and stands on its back two feet.
The rat's nose points upward sniffing into the wind, its ears twitch as it turns its head into the sounds; and listens to more sounds of steel on steel, fire and magic echoing throughout Dagnor's Cauldron. As the sounds of magical thunder shakes the ground. The rat slips back on its four feet. It runs down the hill pass a lone elfin figure clad in green chain mail of his clan who is in a battle for his life with a group of cauldron goblins. Passing between the legs of the elf it runs into the lake and starts to swim away.
The elfin ranger knew that he was in trouble; soon, very soon, he will be joining the Goddess Tunare. His chain mail now covered in sweat and blood. His short brown straight hair now pasted to his forehead. Sweat drips down into his brown eyes stinging them. He blinks repeatedly to try to clear his vision, but it is no use. His left eye is swelling shut and his right is bleeding above the eyelid. There is a large gush on the right side of his face. Most of his chain mail now useless, offering little to no protection. Sections of his tunic are missing exposing damage skin and raw muscle. The gauntlet from his left hand now tatters, revealing bloody and bony knuckles.
His two swords caked in mud, and blood of the goblins feels heavy now. The ranger exhausted and outnumbered three to one the chance for escape now gone, continues to do his determined dance of the swords. Shifting from one foot to another, moving the swords in harmony and independently. The sword in his right hand finds an opening, shifts down and under into the goblin's rib cage while the one in his left moves to block a goblin's sword. As the sword rips into muscle and bone, sending the goblin backwards he senses that maybe this is his time to escape.
As two of the goblins continue to fight from the right and left of the ranger, the third, a shaman, takes a step backward and starts to wave its hands in a curious fashion while mumbling words.
Aluinon instantly realizing he was starting a prayer to whatever god the creature believed in, he also realizes he must stop that prayer. With his weight balance on his right foot, he makes a lunge for the shaman. Only to be knock off balance by the goblin to his left.
When the blue light erupts out of the shaman's hands, Aluinon watch as the healing begins to close the wound around the rib cage. The Fier'Dal knowing that death will come for him tries to stand and face the goblins like a ranger. On his two feet, he lets the swords drop from his hands. The ranger looking towards the clear blue sky starts to whisper a prayer to Tunare to be welcome home onto the plane of growth.
The goblins from the right and left of the ranger each seize an arm, while pointing their rusty swords into Aluinon side. They wait for the shaman to cast the final death spell.
Standing in front of the defeated ranger now, the shaman spreads his lips into a pointy grin, and starts to chants strange words. Pausing in mid chant, it turns its head to the left. The creature's toothy smile no longer there, its face goes from a look of panic to a look of horror, turning its body to the left and starts to raise its left arm.
A ball of heat and light explodes into its chest, sending the creature backwards onto the murky floor of the cauldron.
Fearing their prize was about to be taking away the remaining two carve into Aluinon sides causing him to drop to the ground.
Aluinon slipping into unconsciousness feels the warmth of the magic enter into his body arresting that unconsciousness, sending him into a state of twilight. Lying on the gray stones of the Cauldron, he listens to the battle above. This times the screams of the remaining two goblins, echo throughout the area, along with the sounds of the undead.
The slow mechanical sounds of skeleton warriors they make were so unmistakable; he heard it a hundred times before. Aluinon knows there are undead in the Cauldron, but he was sure that none of them was casters. Trying to regain enough strength to open his eyes, while pondering the question, "who would try to heal me?"
Slowly he tries to clear his vision just enough to see two sets of skeletal feet, but there are others. He heard orders in both the common tongue and another language that sound familiar; he listens to the incantations of at least two spell casters. The ranger watches the goblin stumble to the ground follow by a long sword that driven deep into its back. The third was quickly dispatch as much as the shaman was, with steel and magic slamming into its body until nothing was left but a shell of a once living creature.
The place of slaughter was now silent, and slaughter it was, they had no opportunity to offer any kind of a defense. The battlefield is now silent with the screams of pain and the sounds of magic now gone. Aluinon knows he may still be in trouble, lying on the ground. His head turn to the side; he senses a cool hand touching the side of his neck.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watches the shadow figure stand, in a voice of the common tongue "he lives, but for how long I do not know". As he notices, figures and shadows move above him. The ranger feels an effortless kick to his abdomen, unable to subdue the cry of pain that escapes from his throat.
The figures talking among themselves, Aluinon starts to realize why the language sounds familiar. The ranger had some experience with the words of this language from his training at the guild; it was the words of the Teir'Dal, the dark ones of Neriak. He now knows that he is in the company of the Fier'Dal enemy. As he listens to the words of one who is standing over him, talking in the common tongue to who appears to be the leader of the group, "no Jerigowyn, I will not heal him. He is Fier'Dal, an enemy of the people and deserves to die."
The leader showing more animosity now and growing weary of the language games that the cleric was playing slaps him across the face. Once more, in the common tongue this time, the leader snarls, "cousin, you will heal him now." Then adds, "You know I act in the name of my father."
Massaging his face, the cleric slips back into his native language, "you are not in the position to use your father's name here. We are here for your trials of age." Looking down at the ranger, he continues, "and this pet is not part of the test."
Jerigowyn moves within a inch of the cleric, looking him in the eye, and in the language of the Teir'Dal," Only I would tell you if this pet is part of my trials, not you," as he points to the rest of the party," and not them." Turning his attention back to the cleric, " This band's first commandment is to act upon my orders, and then you are here as a counsel observer and they are observers for the family. Not the other way around; remember that."
He looks down at the wounded ranger, "now heal him." Switching to the Fier'Dal tongue, "And one more thing Borekoth; do not question my orders. Do it again and you may not see home." He turns his glaze back to the cleric, and in a commanding tone, he said, "now heal him."
The cleric looks towards the falling ranger and starts to whisper a prayer to Innoruuk, the Prince of Hate for the power to heal this Fier'Dal. At first, the prayers go unheard and unanswered, but the cleric continues to pray.
Aluinon feeling the warmth of the magic enter into his body, with his strength returning, bones mending together, vision become clearer. He watches out of the corner of his eye the gash on his face closes.
With enough strength, the ranger sits up, and views six members of the Teir'Dal race with their ebony skin, and albino hair. He watches two of the Teir'Dals stand guard. He studies the closest one with his long white straight hair, ring mail armor, hard boots, red cloak, brown tunic and green trousers. The Teir'Dals's broadsword hangs across his back and he has a longbow at the ready. The second Teir'Dals's much as the same as the first, with his long white straight hair, ring mail, soft boots, gray cape, green trousers. He has his long sword and shield at the ready facing the other direction. The ranger makes a guess they are warriors of the Indigo Brotherhood.
It seems he was correct about the two casters; one is a wizard, with short white hair, low soft boots, blue robe, and a dagger at his side. In addition, the other is a necromancer, master of the undead, with his baldhead, low hard boots, black robe, gray jacket and gray trousers, dagger at his side, and a staff in his hand. The ranger watches his minion pacing back and forward in a mindless effort to guard and please his master.
His eyes move on to the cleric of Innoruuk with short white hair, wearing darken black ring mail, black cape, high boots, a shield over his shoulder and a mace at his side. He did not know whether to thank him or try to kill him.
The ranger watches the cleric who continues to talk to a tall Teir'Dal fighter, with short white straight hair, gray ring mail, hard boots, green cape and black trousers and a long sword at his side. The fighter, who appears to be a little older than he is, but is at least half of the age of the rest of the party. Watching a skeletal figure standing beside the fighter, Aluinon makes a guess this is not just a normal warrior, but also a knight of the shadows.
While keeping his eyes on the group, Aluinon remembers where he drops his swords, as he makes a move toward one of them, his eyes move toward the shadow knight. As he wraps his hand around the hilt, he notices the sword is unyielding. When his eyes move toward the blade of the sword, he notices a foot standing on the blade. His eyes continue from the foot to a leg, and then up the leg to see a member of the Indigo Brotherhood with his arms crossed over his chest looking down at Aluinon.
The warrior gives a short whistle causing the shadow knight to turn around and look at Aluinon.
As the knight of the shadows walk over to the ranger side and offer a hand to help him to his feet, but Aluinon remains still.
Aluinon opens his mouth as if to say something but quickly closes it, still fearing the worst, too afraid to ask the question, "why?" The ranger knows they could have watched the goblins slaughter him, it would have been entertainment for them, or they could have healed him just to kill him, again easy entertainment.
He knows they could still torture him or make him a slave. After all Crushbone is nearby, and the orcs always have room for one more slave, or they could take him back to Neriak to be a hostage. Aluinon tries to conceal a smile, thinking to himself, "Ransom, which will be a joke on them". The ranger knows he is only a minor member of the guild and had no family to remember him. He is alone in this world and now a prisoner of the Teir'Dal.
After an unbearable length of silence, the shadow knight finally asks the question in the tongue of the Fier'Dal, "What are you doing here?" The question was in a monotony tone, so perfect, no accent, it send chills up Aluinon spine.
The ranger swallows hard looking around to see six sets of eyes on him, to him it seems even the undead is looking at him. Again, he swallows, "I come looking for a ring of magic, which is said that some of these beasts may carry sometime."
The shadow knight said something to the warrior with the longbow that Aluinon could not make out, in return the warrior points to one of the dead goblins.
"The ring you seek, a ring of silver and of magic, is on that one," the shadow knight said in common, pointing to the same dead goblin as the warrior did just a moment ago. The shadow knight turns to his band and in his native tongue said," break camp now". The group starts to form a combat patrol formation.
Aluinon still unbelieving what had happen, what is happening, finally stands on his feet and ask, "Why?" The shadow knight turns to the ranger, a look of sadness crosses the his face, but no answer was return.
Aluinon knows he should not press the gift of luck that Tunare herself must be giving the ranger this day, but he has to know. Once more, he calls "Why?"
From over the hill now he hears in the language of the Fier'Dal, "A life owed, a life paid"
Thinking to himself for a split second, he knows he should not shout, but he does not understand, he has to know now. He shouts, "I don't understand, a life owed, a life paid?"
From a distance he hears," Thirteen seasons ago ranger, a life owed, a life paid."
The ranger walks over to the body of the goblin, while thinking," thirteen seasons ago ranger, a life owed, a life paid." As he bends down to search the body he remembers something, a vision crosses his mind "a life owed, you owe me your life now." He retrieved the ring right were the warrior said it will be. More memories of that time in his life, he remembers, "you can not kill me, and you owe me your life now." As if the sounds of thunder went off in his mind he remembers it all now, he trembles, too weak to stand, he is in Butcherblock Mountains thirteen seasons ago.