I tried to write a story on here before, but my heart wasn't in it. I only made it a few chapters before I couldn't think of how to progress. So, this time, I am going to use a character I have been toying with for a long time. I originally made her in the online game "Guild Wars" as an elementalist, and later I made her as a Dungeons and Dragons character (sorceror). I have been running a D&D campaign over the past few months with some friends of mine and been building up the "behind-the-scenes" story that involves her as the campaign progresses. However, I feel that she is too potent of a character to leave in the background, so I am going to write her tale. I am going to write them in installments, some of which may require a few posts because of the character-limit on our posts.
For now, I need to relay the setting. So, get a bag of popcorn and get ready.
Diona. Ever since the Blood Wars, it has been a jewel of the affluent Ten Kingdoms. Unparalleled in beauty in the West, Diona's sparkling shores and towering mountains are but small indications of the impressive nature of the kingdom. The envy of many ambitious warlords, many of them from the planes beyond, Diona's peace is a fractured record, rent by many periods of unrest. Most notably was the rise of Elegrin de Alasdon. A lord of necromancy and master of black arts, Elegrin's insurrection against Diona and its ally, the mighty Mages Guild, escalated into a civil war that ravaged the kingdom for three years. Finally defeated by the greatest wizards of the time, in the Clockwork Nirvana of Mechanus, the dark lord's coup was brought to an end.
For ten years the peace was kept, and the vestiges of his army chased into the dark recesses of the land. Peace returned, and life resumed.
But unknown to those who had opposed him, Elegrin had left behind the means to return. Using the forbidden knowledge he had stolen from the vaults of the arcane libraries of the land, Elegrin had torn fragments of his soul to be stored in the most obscure and unknown places. In time, he regained his power, and returned to Diona to once again rally an army against his hated enemies.
It was within this time that a tale of gods and magic, of life and love, of fate and war, is born. For this was the time of Arial Fortuna.
-Methuselah
Prologue
The cool, salty night air brushed gently across her face as she stood, wrapped in a bedsheet with a light night-coat hung over her slender shoulders. Arial Fortuna's bright green eyes watched the tide begin to wash out as the moon approached the Western horizon behind her. This was her favourite time of the night, just before the first traces of dawn sullied the deep sapphire blue of the sky, touched only by the distant stars. How innumerable they were, those points of light in the sky. Clustered in seemingly random patterns, it took a trained eye to see the constellations as the Spellgoddess had set them. For within each star there was a story; a story written by the hand of Aasya in the Weave -- the essense of magic that surrounded and suffused everything in the cosmos. Arial briefly pondered, as she appreciated the vast expanse of the night sky, if the gods themselves viewed their mortal followers the same way. Points of light, waxing and waning in a cycle of life and death -- or night and day, as it were. The sorceress was drawn from her reverie by a familiar touch. Matthias' hands were soft, having been spared the arduous menial labour of the farmers and loggers. The scribe's hands were used to pen elaborate incantations and draw intricate runes as the Mages Guild, a league of wizards among whom Arial was not welcome, learned more spells and lore to add to their considerable resources.
The scribe's other hand touched her other arm. They gently traced the soft skin of her upper arms. The warmth that washed through the sorceress made her realize how cold she had been on the balcony.
"Come back to bed", Matthias softly whispered in her ear. The man had to lower his head as far as he could so that his mouth would come close to the small woman's ear.
"The stars are beautiful", the sorceress replied distantly. Matthias traced the back of his hand along Arial's cheekbone, and she turned into the touch, reveling in it. She ran a finger along his bare chest, the faint shadow of his androgenic hair barely visible in the fading moonlight. Matthias wrapped his arms, remarkably strong for his line of work, around her and held her close. Their young bodies, so full of life, felt attuned to each other on every level. Slowly, they made their way back to the bed, still warm from their night together.
Chapter One
Arial Fortuna was small in stature, but prodigious in spirit. A reputation for flippant disregard of authority and a penchant for destruction surrounded the sorceress. The daughter of Elder Malian Fortuna of the Ivory Circle guild, however, had noticeably pacified of late. Rumours of her involvement with a member of the Mages Guild were widespread, and often understated. Generally, however, it was her paramour whom was credited with placating the woman's temper. Though barely above twenty summers, the sorceress had managed to climb the ranks of the Ivory Circle with remarkable speed. Having been initiated as a full member at sixteen years, she had already risen to the position of lieutenant in the guild headquarters in the kingdom of Diona. The headquarters, once the ancestral home of Elder Benirus de Urion, had been converted into the first guild hall for the Ivory Circle several years prior to the rise of Elegrin de Alasdon. During the Necromancer War, the guild had served admirably as an agent of King Tarantus, with Elder Tarkhil even striking the killing blow on the Necromancer Lord in a spell-duel on the plane of Mechanus.
Today, however, the guildhall only served as residence for Elder Benirus, and the guildmembers in Diona who did not wish to live in any of the major cities. Like the other guildhalls, it was the only one of its kind in the entire kingdom. The others were located in neighbouring kingdoms; Andron, Aragond, and Myamar. Spread through four of the ten kingdoms of the region, the Ivory Circle was growing quickly, with plans underway for expanding into Asgard as well. With every new day, new recruits were accepted into the guild, increasing its influence. This ever-growing reputation was constantly opening doors to the guild and its members. Anyone wearing an insignia of the Ivory Circle was treated with respect wherever they went throughout the Northern kingdoms. Even the Mages Guild would suspend its policy prohibiting guildmembers from doing business with those who did not renounce the school of Necromancy in its entirety if that individual was among the ranks of the Ivory Circle. For that, however, it was Elder Tarkhil, a tremendously powerful wizard in his own right, who was to thank. His negotiations with the archmage council of the Mages Guild had created the bridge between the two guilds that had also first led Arial to Matthias.
Though, Arial often believed that the meeting had been destined to happen by any means available.
As the sorceress ascended the worn terracotta steps to the third floor of the enormous complex, one of many Chateaus that were owned by wealthy lords throughout the region, she immediately sensed the urgency of her summons. Unlike wizards, who studied the Art and learned to channel the Weave through books and meticulous study, Arial's magical aptitude was inborn, a gift from the Spellgoddess. Consequently, she had found herself more sensitive to the Weave around her than others, and sometimes -- unintentionally -- caught glimpses through it. Picking up her pace, the sorceress' cured leather boots scraped on the ancient stone floor as her blue robes billowed slightly at the speed of her step. She had heard the message from her mother, Elder Malian, scarcely five minutes earlier. The woman had not bothered to flower the message she had sent to make use of the spell's full capacity, having instead used six words.
Meet me in the council hall.
Given that Malian, though she resided in the Myamar guildhall, often came to the headquarters to discuss guild affairs with the other elders, Arial had not been completely surprised to hear summons. Even the terse message had not drawn suspicion, as Malian was much like Arial and eschewed cumbersome pretext. When feeling the urgency of her mother's disposition, however, her lazy progress became a hurried walk. She reached the wooden door to the council hall and turned the iron handle. It swung easily on its hinges, opening to admit the sorceress into the large room.
The council room had originally been the throne room of the Urion family before the Chateau became the guild headquarters. The gaudy throne had been removed, and the dais upon which it had stood magically removed so that the floor was even. An enormous mahogany table had been set in the center of the room, with fifteen chairs aligned evenly around it. Bookshelves lined the walls, giving way only to nooks that were filled with various items, from artifacts to vases to weapons, and several tall, narrow windows of small shards of glass set within a thin mesh of iron to prevent exit -- or entry by a skilled thief. At the table sat all of the guild elders, as well as the Marius of Aasya, a loremaster in the order of the Spellgoddess. Marius was known for other reasons however. Thirty years ago, he had been blessed with a vision from the Spellgoddess. In the rapture of her grace, he had spoken the single most influential divine prophecy of the century, what had become known as the
Spellfire Prophecies. As a child, Arial had been forced to study them by her numerous tutors. The young girl had protested vehemently, however, seeking instead more opportunity to practice her Art, desiring to learn from experience rather than study. Nonetheless, the words of the long divination had been branded into her mind as if their magic had reached out acting on its own accord. Also in the company were four other individuals. The first was Elrik, castle mage of the nearby city of Waterford. Second and third were Ramithus of Aasya's temple, also in Waterford, as well as a younger priest whom Arial did not know. The last was a complete surprise, for before her sat Matthias.
"Please", Malian motioned to a chair, "sit". The stun of the situation quickly wore off, and the sorceress took a seat.
"We have just come from Waterford, where the Count and I were in contact with the King", Elrik stated. The enchanter was well-known to Arial, who had taken lessons in concentration from him several times when she was in her youth. His chestnut brown hair seemed lighter, with traces of gray to match the telltale wrinkles that were forming around his eyes. The sorceress frowned to herself. He had not even seen forty summers, yet he seemed as if the weight of time was pressing him. His next words hit Arial with the force of Thetor's cudgel, and confirmed her suspicions beyond all doubt.
"Elegrin has returned".
"Ho-?" the sorceress began.
"That's what we're trying to figure out", Marius said. The loremaster seemed particularly perturbed. As a savant of forgotten lore, the priest was a better source of arcane secrets than even archmages.
"We have a lead", Tarkhil said calmly, and the elf gently slid a strange item towards the sorceress. Arial reached out and grasped it. Immediately she felt the throb of power that had once been contained within the item, something extremely rare without the aid of detection spells. Tentatively, she brought it closer and examined it more thoroughly. Her bright green eyes traced every feature, every engraved rune on the item before she found what she was looking for. The top of the item was fashioned to appear like a skeleton's skull, and within the eye sockets were two small triggers. With her slender fingers, the sorceress pushed them in, and a mechanism within the item clicked. Tentatively, Arial lifted the top of the receptacle open a crack and prepared for any sign of it being magically trapped. When she was satisfied that it was safe, the sorceress opened it and peered inside. The contents were vacant, but, unsatisfied, Arial whispered a spell to detect any lingering magic. As the incantation finished, she was assaulted with a brilliant glare that forced her to shut her eyes and push the receptacle away. Cursing, the sorceress rubbed through her eyelids for a minute and then, warily, opened one eye. She saw stars for a few moments, but they disappeared. The expressions on the faces of those at the table showed deep concern.
"That is one of the most powerful auras I have ever seen", the sorceress remarked, taking the receptacle again. "Have you been able to determine what this is?"
"We believe it contained a portion of Elegrin's power at some point", said Elder Chazmyr, a drow ranger. "It was recovered from a necromancer cabal that the Waterford Guard captured a few hours before the news that Elegrin had returned".
"We believe that there are others secreted away throughout the region", Marius said matter-of-factly, "Elegrin would not have been so foolish as to leave only one behind. He also would not have been stupid enough to entrust them to his followers, the lot of black-hearted scum they were. No, they're going to be somewhere secret and secure, safe from a chance passer-by, as well as most amateur treasure-seekers. Elegrin's hubris, however, seems to be our advantage. He did not expect the items to fall into the hands of someone capable of comprehending their significance and using them to locate others. Or, if he did, he underestimated the ability of his enemies. We are close to locating another one, and we require your expertise for a team to retrieve them".
"A team?" Arial echoed, slightly overwhelmed by the entire situation.
"Yourself", Elder Malian began, "as well as Tebryn of Aasya", she motioned to the priest beside High Priest Ramithus, "and Matthias of the Mages Guild", she motioned to Arial's paramour, "who I'm certain you know already". If looks could kill, Arial's mother would have been nothing more than a bloody stain on the back wall.
"Please be quick in your decision", Marius prompted, "time is of the essense". Turning her attention back to the matter-at-hand, Arial quickly considered. Normally, she tried to exploit what she was most interested in when an offer was presented to her. This, however, was a far different case. Her decision would, in all probability, affect all life in Diona, including her own. In the span of a heartbeat, she readily answered.
"I accept".