Meet one of the main heroes in our story in this upcoming chapter!
*Don't worry; I will get back to Felisto.
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"And then what Daddy?"
"The town of Havel was never seen again, and the dark paladin went on to become a Dream Warden of the dark goddess. But as for his further adventures, that will have to wait for another night."
The little girl pouted and crossed her arms in front of her; she hated it when her father did this in the middle of a story. Sometimes it would take a whole week before she could get him started again; telling her about giant beanstalks and fairy creatures. She fed on his stories as if they were her bread and butter; and nothing could sate her hunger for adventure.
"I don't believe that story is true daddy, I asked you to tell me a true tale!"
"I told you one that is truer then can be imagined. So, why don't you go and get washed up and go to bed. Mommy will be back in a couple of days, and Omra will come with her."
The little girl's face lit up with a gigantic smile, dispelling the air of resentment around her.
"And the sooner you go to bed, the sooner tomorrow will come so you can say hello." The reaction was immediate, the little girl ran off into the back of the house, her long hair trailing behind like a ribbon caught in a breeze. The father smiled, and than tended to the fireplace, and lost himself to the memories.
*******************
The fires of hell had no fury like the fires that engulfed the town that night. He was there, with the rest of his band. They were performers, he the storyteller, another was a master of tricks and illusions, while others were acrobats and jugglers. He had grown up with the performers, learned how to palm coins and snatch a few wallets, but it was all over in an instant when those fires and those corpses came to claim them. He had barely escaped with his life into the woods when he became tired and had to turn around. He knew his life was over for him then, as everything in the town went up in flames.
He met the Paladin when he came into town, even snatched a few coins from him then, and he knew the stories that surrounded him. "That is the mad Paladin; he claimed several innocent lives barely a week ago at Southmill." The pointing and whispering appeared to be too much even for the man of Pelor; for that was the night he set fire to the village, claiming all but one. He knew that if the Paladin knew he were alive, that he would be hunted down, and he lived in fear of that for many years until he settled down with a half-elf maiden, and had a quarter elf daughter.
*********************
The flames had died down in the fire long before the father had noticed he had dozed off. He would have found himself in full sleep if someone had not knocked at the door.
"Come in, it's unlocked."
Before he had a chance to react the door swung full open, and standing beyond was a cloak, and barely visible beneath it, was a face so close to death that it gave the father chills. Omra stumbled into the house, her cloak falling back as she lurched forward, practically falling into his arms. Her sharp Orc features seemed jumbled together amidst the long deep scars and bruises that now covered her face; and the shaft of a single arrow protruded from the back of her neck. The wounds were so deep and discolored that the father couldn't figure out what attacked her; it was amazing she was alive.
"Master Sethor. the lady Maier. she was taken"
"Shhh. don't overexert yourself Omra, who attacked you?"
"The Gavenrild. Those thieves. called her Orc lover. told her that I belonged to them. She fought back. They took her and left me for dead saying something about.Gilleston port."
Omra began to lightly sing something in her native tongue Sethor was once told was a song of freedom of her race. Sethor took up the tune, adding into it a hint of magic, hoping it would take hold to allow Omra to rest. Omra fainted into Sethor's arms, losing all semblance of consciousness. Sethor called for his daughter. She came immediately, and when she noticed Omra on the ground in a growing pool of blood, began to cry.
"This is not the time, you remember what I told you to do if anyone came into this house needing medical attention?"
The daughter nodded.
"Good, go to the temple of Pelor and tell them it is an emergency. I will not be home when you get back. When the clerics take her back to the temple, you are to tell High-Priest Inestron that you are to stay with Omra and learn to take care of wounds. He will know the reasoning behind it. Go now little Kelia, and don't come back without help from the temple."
Kelia ran out of the house, tears streaming from her eyes, but a look of determination across her face.
Sethor ran over to the fireplace and removed several loose cobblestones. He removed a rapier, several days' rations, his limited spell book, and the money to hire mercenaries from the compartment, and then replaced the stones. Everything was flashing by in his head at a quickened rate.
"If I don't come back the church will take in Kelia, giving her the estate when she reaches maturity. Omra will most likely live..."
He continued talking to himself as he left the house wide open and went to the stables, placing everything in the horse's saddlebag. He grabbed the animals reigns and ushered it into the yard, mounted it, and rode it off into the moonlit night. ******************************************
The town was in an uproar the next morning as the church announced that a family was attacked during the night. One individual knew however that this was the thing that Sethor needed, and continued to hum to herself the song of freedom. She had sung it when Sethor freed her of the bondage of slavery, and now she weakly sung it, knowing that Sethor was now on the path to be freed from his past.
"And then what Daddy?"
"The town of Havel was never seen again, and the dark paladin went on to become a Dream Warden of the dark goddess. But as for his further adventures, that will have to wait for another night."
The little girl pouted and crossed her arms in front of her; she hated it when her father did this in the middle of a story. Sometimes it would take a whole week before she could get him started again; telling her about giant beanstalks and fairy creatures. She fed on his stories as if they were her bread and butter; and nothing could sate her hunger for adventure.
"I don't believe that story is true daddy, I asked you to tell me a true tale!"
"I told you one that is truer then can be imagined. So, why don't you go and get washed up and go to bed. Mommy will be back in a couple of days, and Omra will come with her."
The little girl's face lit up with a gigantic smile, dispelling the air of resentment around her.
"And the sooner you go to bed, the sooner tomorrow will come so you can say hello." The reaction was immediate, the little girl ran off into the back of the house, her long hair trailing behind like a ribbon caught in a breeze. The father smiled, and than tended to the fireplace, and lost himself to the memories.
*******************
The fires of hell had no fury like the fires that engulfed the town that night. He was there, with the rest of his band. They were performers, he the storyteller, another was a master of tricks and illusions, while others were acrobats and jugglers. He had grown up with the performers, learned how to palm coins and snatch a few wallets, but it was all over in an instant when those fires and those corpses came to claim them. He had barely escaped with his life into the woods when he became tired and had to turn around. He knew his life was over for him then, as everything in the town went up in flames.
He met the Paladin when he came into town, even snatched a few coins from him then, and he knew the stories that surrounded him. "That is the mad Paladin; he claimed several innocent lives barely a week ago at Southmill." The pointing and whispering appeared to be too much even for the man of Pelor; for that was the night he set fire to the village, claiming all but one. He knew that if the Paladin knew he were alive, that he would be hunted down, and he lived in fear of that for many years until he settled down with a half-elf maiden, and had a quarter elf daughter.
*********************
The flames had died down in the fire long before the father had noticed he had dozed off. He would have found himself in full sleep if someone had not knocked at the door.
"Come in, it's unlocked."
Before he had a chance to react the door swung full open, and standing beyond was a cloak, and barely visible beneath it, was a face so close to death that it gave the father chills. Omra stumbled into the house, her cloak falling back as she lurched forward, practically falling into his arms. Her sharp Orc features seemed jumbled together amidst the long deep scars and bruises that now covered her face; and the shaft of a single arrow protruded from the back of her neck. The wounds were so deep and discolored that the father couldn't figure out what attacked her; it was amazing she was alive.
"Master Sethor. the lady Maier. she was taken"
"Shhh. don't overexert yourself Omra, who attacked you?"
"The Gavenrild. Those thieves. called her Orc lover. told her that I belonged to them. She fought back. They took her and left me for dead saying something about.Gilleston port."
Omra began to lightly sing something in her native tongue Sethor was once told was a song of freedom of her race. Sethor took up the tune, adding into it a hint of magic, hoping it would take hold to allow Omra to rest. Omra fainted into Sethor's arms, losing all semblance of consciousness. Sethor called for his daughter. She came immediately, and when she noticed Omra on the ground in a growing pool of blood, began to cry.
"This is not the time, you remember what I told you to do if anyone came into this house needing medical attention?"
The daughter nodded.
"Good, go to the temple of Pelor and tell them it is an emergency. I will not be home when you get back. When the clerics take her back to the temple, you are to tell High-Priest Inestron that you are to stay with Omra and learn to take care of wounds. He will know the reasoning behind it. Go now little Kelia, and don't come back without help from the temple."
Kelia ran out of the house, tears streaming from her eyes, but a look of determination across her face.
Sethor ran over to the fireplace and removed several loose cobblestones. He removed a rapier, several days' rations, his limited spell book, and the money to hire mercenaries from the compartment, and then replaced the stones. Everything was flashing by in his head at a quickened rate.
"If I don't come back the church will take in Kelia, giving her the estate when she reaches maturity. Omra will most likely live..."
He continued talking to himself as he left the house wide open and went to the stables, placing everything in the horse's saddlebag. He grabbed the animals reigns and ushered it into the yard, mounted it, and rode it off into the moonlit night. ******************************************
The town was in an uproar the next morning as the church announced that a family was attacked during the night. One individual knew however that this was the thing that Sethor needed, and continued to hum to herself the song of freedom. She had sung it when Sethor freed her of the bondage of slavery, and now she weakly sung it, knowing that Sethor was now on the path to be freed from his past.