26th day of Deepsnow 1492 (Full Moon)
Mission: Defence of Triboar
Campaign: Black Maw Bog
Location(s): Triboar.
Present: Aerie, Anor, Aramil, Bandur, Garet, Heimund, Karion, Paskan,
It was later that day that a council meeting was held at the Lord Protectors tower. The townsfolk were in the streets rejoicing at their good fortune, mourning the fallen and some trying to tidy up the destruction caused by the rampaging Orcs once they had got within the walls.
Elminster: "Good people may I introduce to you High Lord Methrammar Aerasumé, High Lord of the Silver Marches as well as the ruler of Silverymoon, and the High Marshal of the Argent Legion, the army of the League of the Silver Marches."
Methrammar: "A miracle you ask, no. We have been tracking a very large band of Orcs moving south from the lands of The Many Arrows Orc tribes. We rested awhile in Yartar when 2 days ago a merchant with a weird contraption of a wagon arrives, with some bodyguards and tells us that Triboar is under siege! Then a mounted patrol of your '12' turn up and tell the same story. As soon as we could my 500 mounted Elves of the Argent Legion with what forces could be mustered from Yartar rode as fast as we could to your relief. It would seem the gods smiled on us today. Elminster"
Elminster: "Through ways and means that I will not divulge it became known to me that Triboar was indeed in danger. Not from the Orc Horde, they were just a means to an end. The demon, who I have found out was named Rahini, who long ago tried to enslave Helms Hold near Neverwinter and who many thought dead, had actually implanted herself here to do whatever master she follows bidding. She sought an artifact long buried. One of many. A millennia before the era of upheaval a mighty foe walked the Prime Material Plane. Tiamat. Although she went under many names. Great was the destruction she and her dragons wrought upon the land. Many peoples were enslaved. The Vonindod, (meaning "titan of death" in Jotun) was a colossal construct used against dragons during the ancient wars between giants and dragons.
The Vonindod stood 80 feet (24 meters) tall, three times taller than any titan. and was humanoid-shaped with a horned helm and a greatsword. It was almost entirely composed of adamantine with huge rubies for eyes. The Vonindod fought for most of The Thousand Year War. Though it travelled slowly and was hindered by being earthbound, it proved effective in raiding dragons' lairs and slew more wyrms than even Hjurner Wyrmrever. During the latter half of the war, it was deployed to the northern cities of the then nation of Ostoria.
After the war, what remained of the construct was dismantled and scattered throughout the north. Pieces were shared amongst all the cities of Ostoria. One of which stood here, where Triboar now stands.
The limbs of the Vonindod were held together with rods made of Glassteel, fashioned by your ancestors and Aedrie Faenya. Not wishing to lose the rods it was rumoured that Aerdrie Faenya fashioned 12 mighty swords and gave them to the Avariel.
I was nearly delayed at the final battle, so I sent young Aramil along to help where he could until I could arrive. You may ask where I went, and I will tell you. I travelled to the Isle of mist, where you found the Blue Dragon eggs. And as you quite rightly surmised were not in the right place. By whatever means the enemy had managed to steal a clutch of eggs and bend the Blue Dragon called Velzemogarrox to her will. When I arrived the guardians were slain, the eggs destroyed. I brought the shards of those eggs back here. I have asked Garet how many eggs there were, he has told me 7. There were indeed 7 incubation stones but of the shards, when put back together there are only 6 eggs. 1 egg is missing so too the Red Wizard of Thay, for only a Red Wizard could have constructed the Raver.
The Demon was very powerful in that she could bend and sway people to her will. Paskan, I am sorry but unwittingly you were one. Through you she knew most of your plans. You are not to blame, nor should anyone here cast blame."
Protector of Triboar: "It seems we owe you much High Lord Methrammar, Elminster and to the brave warriors who held the Yartar Gate, destroyed the Raver and the Dragon. We found a large cache of gold left when the Orcs ran away. From this there is enough to rebuild Triboar, strengthen the defences and give each of you 500 pieces of gold. Further your group shall receive 1000 pieces of gold for 5 years to be paid on the anniversary of this battle."
Methrammar: "Triboar will come under the protection of the Lords Alliance. Word has been sent to Waterdeep and the Lords of Waterdeep are in agreement. So too Lord Neverember of Neverwinter. A permanent garrison shall be stationed here of Elves, Dwarves and Humans from the Lords Alliance for the continued protection of Triboar and the artifact buried beneath. There are other matters to discuss but that will wait until after our victory feast tonight."
The meeting broke up. Aramil received a message from one of the High Lords bodyguards. It simply read, 'We will meet soon'.
The battle of Triboar was over, the initial relief that the fight was won had subsided, dazed and bewildered at the heavy losses the towns folk were released from the ‘safe places’ of refuge. As they spilled out onto the battle strewn debris on the streets.
The group met at the Temple of the Gauntlet. Garet was missing, but Aerie told them he had business with Mavrithan and the others that travelled with him.
A strange meeting
Later that night Elminster turned to Aramil, looking at him
with a keen eye and stern face, with what Aramil thought looked like a little
smile just in the corner of his mouth. Well, Aramil at least hoped it was
a smile and not the start of another of his famous snarls. "My young padawan,
come with me, I have someone you should meet". Without another word of
explanation Elminster turned and was away flight of foot as ever, Aramil
realizing it wasn’t an invitation, but an instruction started running to try to
just keep up, dodging the people dazed and just standing looking at the carnage
and the bodies of all armies dead and dying on the ground.
Aramil rapidly lost
any sense of direction and location just focussed on keeping up with Elminster,
after a few minutes which seemed like ages to Aramil, Elminster stopped at a
door, it took all Aramils strength to stop in time and not go crashing into the
back of Elminster. Elminster stood at a larger than normal wooden door, arched
top and three very strong metal, iron Aramil thought, hinges. Elminster
muttered something that Aramil neither heard properly nor even had any chance of
understanding. Elminster pushed the door and stepped inside, Aramil paused, was
he supposed to follow, ‘come in’, was his answer uttered by Elminster. ‘Wait
here’, Elminster was never one to mince words unless he was telling stories.
Aramil thought back to his first encounter with Elminster
at the inn where, he paused, Susan, damn how she always entered his thoughts,
he missed her so. He realised he was in a very small hallway, no furnishing or furniture,
two doors and a single wall mounted brazier with one very well used end of a
candle in it and nothing else. After what seemed ages to
Aramil, Elminster appeared through the other door, not the one Elminster had
left the hallway through, strange thought Aramil, but no longer surprised by
anything Elminster did, he had quickly learnt not to be surprised, just accept.
Elminster looked straight at Aramil, that same piercing stair again, "when you
enter the room bow, do not speak until you are invited to speak, say nothing
until you are offered the chance to speak, do you understand?" Aramil nodded in
reply…what was he walking into now he wondered…
Elminster stepped back opening the same door he had
initially entered through allowing Aramil to step into the room. The door
closed behind him Elminster did not follow. Aramil saw in front of him a table
about six feet by four feet, two chairs on the side nearest him and one on the
far side, no one hear he thought. Then he
caught the slightest movement in the corner of his eye to his right, he turned
and bowed as instructed, he held the bow unsure of what he should do next. Standing before him was Methrammar.
Methrammar: “Rise young Padawan, or should I say Aramil”.
As Aramil stood up he saw stood before him a very tall,
well over six foot six, very well built, male half elf, dressed in battle
equipment, of extremely high quality, he carried a regal air about him, natural
not forced, his clothing indicated the same, a fighter in every sense of the
word, though not an obvious battle scar visible on him anywhere.
Methrammar: “Take a seat young Aramil”, the stranger indicated. Aramil nodded and
moved to the left of the two chairs, he stood waiting. He thought this must be
the noble who rode past that morning, for noble he must be dressed in such rich
finery. The stranger smiled, and moved to the opposite side, and again
proffered his hand “please be seated”, he said. “Padawan as Elminster calls
you, or should I call you young Aramil, I think Aramil is more appropriate and
relevant for this occasion”.
Aramil said nothing it clearly was not a question but a
statement of fact. The words spoken with confidence and with regal air without
any hint of condescendence in his voice.
“What we are about to discuss will I am sure, be not only
of significant shock to you but in many ways potentially challenge your whole
belief and perception of your life to date, putting much of it into doubt.
Everything I tell you can be ratified by others and confirmed by scripture.
However, I sincerely hope that you will be able to trust my word and the way I
tell it to you and will be sufficient for you to believe it. No doubt you are
wondering just who I am and why I have summoned you here?”
Aramil said nothing, looking intently at the person across
the table from him.
“I am High Lord Methrammar Aerasumme, High Lord of the
Silver Marches”, on hearing this Aramil’s ears picked up, staring intently at this
until now stranger, a Half-Elf like himself. The mention of the Silver marches
or at least the wars of the Silver Marches he recognised from the scripture
from the tomb Bandur had read to him, were where his father had supposedly met
his end….his conscious thoughts returned to the here and now back in the room, Methrammar
continued, “I am the ruler of Silverymoon and the High Marshal of the
Argent Legion, the army of the league of the silvery marches”. He waited for
Aramil to take all this in. “And, I am your half-brother”.
Aramils eyes felt like they had pooped out on stalks, his
mouth open jaw hanging limply, he was glad he was sat down, he felt like he
would faint. Half-brother but how, did they have the same mother, surely not,
his mother had not been out of his comfort and care for a day of his life until
such time as he entered the Black Staff Tower and only after that when she left
his side for good passing away at the cottage.
It was obvious that this half-brother sat across from him
was a good number of years older than Aramil, then slowly like a flaming candle
in his mind…his father. “Aramil”, his newly found half-brother paused. “You
have or at least had 12 half-brothers, and possibly more, sadly three of my
brothers are no longer walking this earthly world”. Aramil could not contain
his look of shock and surprise, he stared at Methrammar across the table from
him, looking back at him a smiling, kind face. “I know this is a lot to take in
and we can talk at length about your ‘new’ family, but I understand you have
been ‘told’ of your father’s demise and the way in which it occurred. No doubt
you have many questions, but allow me to recount the events, for I was indeed
there, not for the very end but for sufficient time to be able to confirm all
that is written, after which we can talk through your questions. We have the
time and will not be disturbed other than food and drink.”
So, the story began, recounted by Methrammar, he explained
in detail about his half- brothers, each
in turn. He talked about Silverymoon and the Argent Legion. His mothers’
seeming demise which made his father leave Silverymoon for a long time. He
patiently waited as Aramil asked countless questions, he answered them all.
It was not a surprise to Aramil to discover that Methrammar was indeed a fighter and
a great commander of renown, but it was a surprise to find that he was also a
Wizard of elevated abilities, being a wizard, something they had in common,
Aramil liked the thought of that, Aramil was warming to Methrammar a big
brother in more ways than one, indeed he now had many big brothers!
They talked, Aramil quickly found it so easy to ask all the
‘difficult’ questions, that the story of
his father’s death just didn’t make sense in comparison to the father he thought he knew from his life experiences
with him, around Aramil he was never argumentative, arrogant, impetuous, hot
headed, the likes the story portrayed him as, but quite the opposite, kind,
caring, loving, considerate, deeply thoughtful.
One thing stuck in his mind throughout, Aramil just
couldn’t see how the father he knew was the same person whose actions were
depicted in the story of how he died. He couldn’t see how his father would have
chased the orc hordes into the mountains, going against the other commanders
and majority of the force, and certainly not falling into the trap as it was
described. Methrammar listened, smiling, nodding and with the patience a big brother
naturally shows a sibling explained the circumstances, the pressure, the
desires to end the wars and all the many traits that their father displayed,
how the events had unfolded, not once decrying their father or his actions, but
soundly reassuring Aramil that the facts as recorded in the story were indeed
correct.
Methrammar covered every doubt, concern and question with
brotherly love and compassion, the questions only stopping for drinks and to
eat, other than that they were left alone, completely alone for hours and
hours. Aramil did question, and Methrammar answered, question followed question
and answer followed answer. Not once did Methrammar tire or show even the
slightest tiredness at Aramil’s almost unending questions. Slowly as Aramil’s
doubts ebbed away a whole new perspective of his father’s life became known to
him. Aramil lost none of his respect or love for his father, but admiration,
respect and affection grew, his only thought…..if only I had known.
The conversation for that was what it had become, no longer
a discussion moved toward Aramil, he found himself talking of his growing
years, his love for his parents and the love they gave him, his memories of his
father and his teachings, Aramil sat on his father’s knee, his time at the
Black Staff Tower, his choices of Evocation and Conjuration, why and what he
had learnt, followed by Aramil’s more recent interest in
Alchemy and his first tentative steps at his own laboratory / alchemist shop in
Axeholm. How he had struggled to produce his first healing potion and the even
worse attempt at a poison, they laughed together as Methrammar recalled some of
his early attempts at not a to dissimilar potion production. Aramil felt a real
‘bond’ was forming between them. Methrammar gave a very small ‘snap shot’ of
the great wizards at Silverymoon. Aramil recounted his desire to visit Silverymoon
when he had learnt of its significance when he was searching for information
about his father.
The only thing Aramil felt guilty about not mentioning at
all was the gift that his father had given him of the Ioun Stone, he remembered
the council he was given on that matter.
Aramil jumped at the sound of the loud knock at the door
behind him, other than for food and drink they had not been disturbed at all. A
bodyguard of significant size filled the doorway, bowed and spoke briefly, “My
Lord, the hour of high ten, the vanguard is assembled and ready to depart and
await your instructions". “Very good fifteen minutes
and we depart”. “Very good my Lord”, the bodyguard bowed and gently closed the
door once more leaving the two brothers alone.
“Well, my dear newly found brother", said Methrammar, "it
appears that we have been together the night through and it is but late the
next morning, I trust that you are more at peace with yourself and our father
now after our time together, though I am sure, indeed I insist, this will not be the last time we shall meet each other".
Aramil stood ready starting to bow once more, Methrammar
placed two firm hands on his shoulders, “My
dear younger brother bowing is in respect to the title and only in front of others, not when we are
together alone”. He stepped close to Aramil and hugged him, squeezed him so
tightly Aramil thought he was going to burst. “My young brother you
are to be proud of yourself and your family, indeed all of your family”. Smiling
Methrammar stepped back, holding out his right hand.
Aramil went to shake his hand stopping when he noticed the
ring in the palm of the hand. A ring of exquisite design a symbol inscribed
into the dark blue gem set into the centre of the ring. “Take this my brother,
it belonged to our father, who in turn gifted it to me. May it serve you as well
as it has served me. If ever you are in need, meet a member of the Argent
Legion or come to Silverymoon, then It will also help you as identification when
people who can help protect you see the symbol upon this ring, they will know
from whom the ring came.”
Aramil’s jaw
dropped, “I have no words, ‘thank you’ is so trivial.” “Thanks, are not
required. Until we meet again, stay safe, stay well, happy adventures my
brother”. With that Methrammar strode out the room and was gone.
Almost instantly to be replaced by Elminster. “Come my
young Padawan let’s get you back to the group of adventurers shall we, as for
sure they will have need of you in what lies in store for them". Without
another word, turned and was striding away.
Yet again Aramil was almost running just to try to keep up with
Elminster… Aramil
thought to himself… some things never change….
