Legends of Belariath

Mozenwrathe

Air Purification I

This must be the worst day of my life. Yes, I am quite sure of it. This is, without a doubt, -THE- worse day of my entire life.

In all the years I have spent on this world, have I never been given such a task as this. Never has my Liege Employer given me a duty have I hated more than this one. (When I think of it... no, even chasing that umber hulk down seventy-three flights of stairs in the form of a dragonne was more preferable. Retrieving fresh remorhaz regurgitation on the Spine Of The World would not be more revolting, at least to me...It is not as if I -have not- done that before.) In the most horrific of nightmares I have suffered - or fought - has my vivid imagination never composed such tragic fare for me to deal with. It is as if my Liege Employer was punishing me for something I have done in the past, setting me up to taste failure on my tongue, washing it down with bitter ashes of cold hatred roused from its ashen grave with a hot poker. Then again, my Liege Employer is not known for doling out tasks to those incapable of completing their assignments...

Death have I been visited by, and I did see a fleeting panorama of my life as my soul left my body. Now, if and when I die again, this moment will come into view first and foremost. A damnable shame will fill this cold heart of mine, knowing that if I succeed for my Liege Employer have I failed myself. A perfect example of how Fate can truly torment the living and the dead with one quick twist of Her hips.

In order to serve my Liege Employer, I must stride along side grievous enemies mine. What horrendous passage of providence has brought me this low? Not only must I work with a party of idealistic fools, they are all servants of goodness and justice - or so they believe. I, of course, know better. They give the concept of justice lip service, while pandering to the side of goodness and mercy. At least two of them are Harpers, of that I know as a fact; I -HATE- The Harpers. I hate them almost as much as I hate the Red Wizards of Thay and the Zhentarim. Just as well, they are all annoying, they all keep their secrets, they all believe they have a right to tamper in my affairs, and they as a whole seem to favor the shadows to hide in. (If they only knew the truth about what they seek to understand, they would wet themselves with blood and their own soil.) As well, all of these men and women I must assist are friends or allies of Elminster the Sage - such a joyous day this is to be such illustrious company.

I am truly blessed and honored to stand shoulder to shoulder with such great heroes as these.

Excuse me while I stab out my own eyes. No, really. Hold this for a moment?

***

Wait, you do not know that much about me yet, now do you? Well, let me give you a few of the basics, and then we may proceed freely. My name is Story. Yes, you heard that right. Story. Do not seek to be cute and try to dub me "Storytime, Storyteller, or Sage of Once-Upon-A-Time." For that, I may simply kill you. You seem shocked that I would say that. Well, you do not know me that well, now do you?

I am human, this is very true. My parents - my birth parents - are unknown to me. I was raised in such a fashion my parentage - nay, my entire lineage - was rendered completely unimportant. I bear scars no sane human should ever suffer, both within and without. My mind and soul have been battered so many times, the bruises left on both would leave them dark if my skin was not already. The fact remains that I am the best product ever "released" from the institute I came from, and some seek take me back to it. Those seekers too, are mostly dead. I made sure of that myself. Again, that look of terror overtakes your visage. Are you absolutely sure you wish to continue? We can stop at any time, and you can run swiftly back to the fortress or castle you came from.

My skin is dark, and my hair in long and vigorous braids. The tone of my skin suggests my parents were from a land in a fairly warm climate. Perhaps even farther than the legendary Al-Qadim. (I have been there, it is not legendary - merely heavily seasoned with legendary dangers. That, and the djinni are messed up. Mentally speaking, I do mean.) The braids are a hold off from my days with my first "educators." They liked my hair in this fashion, and I have never sought to change it. Although it has been a hindrance in more than one duel, the 'locks tend to stay out of my way during most times I wish them to be. Occasionally I wash them with herbs and plants, teasing them out and rebraiding them. It is good for the head to feel refreshed. My body is lean and muscular, from many years of hard work and pain. (Pain? Another day, perhaps, when I am willing to give you more of myself. More of my PAST self, I should amend.) My reach is as long as any warrior's, which has been more benefit than I would dare dream. As for the robes? Well, that I shall inform you of on a later date. Just do not believe everything you see and hear from others.

In my few years (as compared to the longer-lived races), my life has been fraught with danger, despair, dungeon crawling, and death. Not much different than most others, but they can usually fit into the societies they find themselves with. (Well, MOST of them can, there are worse exceptions than I. For example, I work for one of those examples. And I fight freely alongside another aberrant member of a sentient race.) In the service of the first series of "teachers" I was vassal, I learned more about humanity and the other races than most of my kind ever will. As a survival tactic, I used my mind to absorb the languages I came into contact with - all of them. (Ever try to speak minotaur with a Spine of the World accent? Oh, wait, you cannot even speak minotaur. Forget I asked that of you. Mayhaps you know elven, like all your breed do?) As my hair grew longer, so did my memory, and the list of languages I had to retain. Using them often does assist in the learning process.

My knowledge of weapons and tactics grew with my body, as I was then able to hold more than a stick. I may be no warrior born, but I am more than capable of wielding a blade adequately enough to set many on edge... or have them taste the edge. No sympathy will you hear in my voice for the majority whom I have slain - they were far worse than I will ever be. Unlike some of my "contemporaries," I need not sacrifice children to dark gods. As for raping and slaying virgins, bathing in their blood, and using their entrails as jewelry to please my baser emotions, I have no lust for gore than inspires me to do such heinous and rather unprofitable acts of disgustingly psychotic intent.

One moment. I will get you a wooden bucket and a cloth to clean yourself with if you feel yourself ready to release your tenuous grip on your previous repast.

Yes, I AM educated. Life and the "school of hard knocks has taught me that." Once I gained "reprieve" from my first set of teachers, I ran into a man whom would become my best friend for life. For a man with no social graces, I think I did rather well. (He is a dark elf, I am a human. He believes in justice, and so do I... of a fashion. He, however, is far better looking and more gentile than I.) From that point he and I knew the other could be counted on, as he is different like myself. As for afterwards, my wanderings led me to meet my current Liege Employer. The rest, as you might say, is history.

And about my hatred for elves? That, in itself, is a tale I shall save more much later. As for now, there is the matter of my having to work with the forces of Good And Justice. Did I mention I want to stab out my eyes for having to do this? I have? Good.

For a brief hesitation in time, I thought I forgot that aspect of my current situation.

Oh stop fretting. I am not actually going to stab out my eyes. I may, however, strike yours down if you do not cease your witless whimpering. You wanted to know, and now you are learning. Is not education wonderful?

***

I as you might have guessed, I am in a fairly bad situation for one such as I. If you could not infer from my tone, I have already encountered the many allies of Elminster on a few touchy occasions. One has to state they are quite dedicated to their work. Not fanatical, but reasonably focused in their chosen occupations. (Well, most are chosen, but some manage to fall into it. Them I feel pity for. I will, however, slay them just the same if they endanger my motivations. This is not to say I will not give them a chance to surrender peacefully. I might be vindictive, but needless bloodshed is both a waste and a potential danger for later.) My Liege Employer has set things in motion which should guarantee my safety while in their "care" at least for a time.

That, for one, am I thankful for. Especially as they have stripped me of all my properties I normally carry - all the basics like poisons, crossbows, scrolls, and even my favorite quartz crystal I found a few months ago which I kept because it shines nicely at sunset.

In order to make matters even worse for me, the main captive of the Zhentarim we go to free is an elf. By Amaunator's contracts, she is elven nobility! As are two other prisoners of the evil legion we are to liberate from the clutches of the Cursed Fortress. Were the many races of elves birds, I would be an archer merely to shoot them out of the sky and watch them plummet to the earth. If the elves were schools of fish, I would stalk them on a boat with net and harpoon at the ready. Elves are naught but walking, sleeping, talking, eating, drinking, slender, spell-casting target practice. My Liege Employer knows my past history with elves, but still felt I was the best for this assignment... mainly because of my hatred of elves. Only demons do I hate more than elves, and you can at least use the flesh and blood of demons for incantations after they have died. Elves have no use for me, except to perish.

(Although, there is this one dragon I know that has been aching for some high elven stew with moon elven briskets. She offered to concoct some for me. I declined. I am no cannibal yet to be fed the meat of other sentient beings. I never stated I would be adverse WATCHING the process, however. I am still undecided about that. Then there was this one devil who was hunting the skins of elves for his scrolls of desecration. He was absolutely certain the sorceries he sought to harness required the tanned hide of something older than 200 years of age, but was still fresh. Between the dragon and the devil, they would use the whole elf. At least they would not be wasting them. Enough about things greater than you and more terrifying than I, then.)

No recourse for me is possible, nor shall I show my foes any mercy. The Harpers and their allies concern themselves with cautions and hidden evils which slither through the castle keep we are to infiltrate. The unknown wickedness that permeates the stone itself shall they fend off with their intricate plans. Leaving me in the complete shadows of their grandiose plans, they feel I should be let known when THEY are ready what my part is within their schemes. Or in other words, I am here at their sufferance and should be unfathomably ecstatic they are going to use me as a human shield that uses spell scrolls and kicks back.

I -did- mention I hate the forces of Good, correct? The fact they can use almost any excuse and turn it into a reason if their gods and their consciences will let them? And then if anyone else dares to gainsay them or - chosen deity forbid - utilize the exact same framework they have if it is not truly free of wickedness, say that what the new person has done is evil and then smite them down with words or actions? You may have never seen it in action, but I have. The same can be said of many who "keep the law and order." No more than brutal thugs whom get paid for their dirty deeds done legally in the light. They also get to taste my boot leather in their mouths. My Liege Employer has done well to replace the disloyal and unlawful systems of more than a few small towns and villages with rules and regulations of His own. All those places are now prospering nicely, thanks purely to His selfless efforts.

Without a single token of defense, the rescue party handpicked by Elminster and their friends guard over me most of the time. Every so often, one or two of them come by to rattle the manacles they have placed me in, to "ensure I do not run off and cower in fear." (So many throats aching to be cut, and me without a single sharp rock.) Their paranoia will be the death of them. I refuse it to allow it to slay me as well. My blood loves the frame it is currently in, and I wish not to give it excuse to find a new host. It would leave me drained, literally.

As a wise thief told me, "never trust allies born of necessity farther than you can throw a dagger through their hearts." I have treasured that wisdom , and rewarded him for it by earning him a small town... but not after puncturing his arm with a blade when he thought to stab me through the chest. A misunderstanding, yes, which is why I did not hack off his head. Some times things like that happen. He thought I was an assassin coming up from behind him. He learned from that point on to recognize my heavy footstep, after I bandaged his arm up. After all, it -was- my doing it had a dagger through it. I am sure, however, he never had to deal with odds this highly stacked against him. (He may have been a cat-burglar, but he only faced merchants. How dangerous IS the average merchant?)

These heroic imbeciles must believe me to be their trophy mage. Simply because "Elminster says so," I will be used at their leisure, and take the final fall for the greater good if need be. (More like, when arranged.) They refuse to trust me with plans that my life most assuredly depends on, but insist they know what is best for me. Remember, They fight on the side of Good. They know what the Purpose of Life is. They have the light of Mystra and Tymora and a few other goddesses shining on them. What would I know about rescuing people? Nothing. And what would a base and craven career criminal like myself know of bravery or planning? Absolutely nothing at all. So I should simply stay quiet and out of the way until it is my time to be called on. And be -Blissfully Happy- about this glorious chance to deliver myself from my wicked ways. Oblivious to my darkening visage, they have faith that I shall blindly follow where they lead, and stand where they place the markers.

Think again.

With connections of my own, I will discover her whereabouts. With the hands of my allies, shall I lift this stupid chit from her bondage. Already have I placed word to my own adventuring party to meet me at the appointed place, so we may plan our own rescue for the prisoners inside. I know damned well if the "strike team for light" here go about how the paladin and the priestess of Tyr have been going on, this will end in disaster for all concerned. Finances I possess plenty of thanks to hard work, and those have I used to equip the cadre I have brought together for the assault on this stonework which hides dreaded evil within its thick and callous walls. I may walk a treacherous path, but never have I been forced to give my word on HOW the end result will come about.

My Liege Employer wishes this princess of elven blood and the other unwilling guests of the Zhentarim found, freed, and brought back to the legions of Good - he never said exactly how I ought go about it. He would never do a thing like that, unless it was essential a process was followed to the letter. He trusts my judgement, and I am not in the habit of failing him. Those whom truly believe justice for all is easily found are dreamers; reality is cold and dry steel being soaked and warmed betwixt your shoulders.

You shiver. Why is that? Never been stabbed through the back before? Oh, I see you have not. Well, the bucket is still there for you if you need it. I know of your allegiance to the stupid and arrogant comrades of Elminster, but I will not hold it against you overmuch - you know how to stay silent when need be. It may take you far, that one talent.

Let those who prefer to fantasize ruin their own lives. These people I have been forced to march with know little of what needs must, by the sound of their lighthearted banter and what few plans I have glanced at or overheard. To a very man will they fall inside the Keep if they honestly believe that the purity of their hearts will defend them. They have blatantly chosen to ignore the fact innocent babies are sacrificed by the Zhentarim monthly to the dark lords they truly serve.

Me? I fully intend to go in and out of this castle dungeon in one piece, and better for it. And if those glory-hunting, pure hearted, disgracefully unprofessional fools seek to stop me, they have another thing coming - most likely my fist. I might be forbidden to cause their demise, but there was nothing stated about my thumping them with a heavy block of wood until they saw reason. And there is nothing wrong about enjoying your work, either...

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