Almost Immortal

[Solomon]

(Closed to Jasmine, Malagen, Sifer)

"Just think about it for a moment... You seem like the kind of man who's searching for something out of reach. And you are, aren't you?"

The strange man's words loomed in Solomon's mind. He remembered that night at the pub so well, as though it had happened only hours ago. The stranger pulled up a chair next to him, bought him a drink and made his aquatints. The words had not left him, even though it had been nearly a month since they had met.

"Listen, I don't want to get into this." Solomon turned his head from the stranger and took a sip of his drink. "Especially not with you alright? My business is my business."

He would have normally walked away from someone this curious about him, yet thoughts about his life ending, and never actually making anything of it had been haunting him that night. Which was also the reason the drink seemed so appealing. He had drank a few of them that night in hopes of forgetting these thoughts. He didn't like to feel this way, incomplete and stranded in a vast wide world. The reason he stayed was because of what this man had to say. At first it seemed ludicrous, but the idea implanted itself within him and forced him to be curious.

"Alright." The man grinned. "Fair enough, your business is your business. But I can tell you, I know what I am talking about Solomon. I can help you find purpose if that's what you're looking for. I can even help you find someone you're looking for"-The grin spread even wider.- "Even if they are dead… Solomon."

Solomon let the words cycle through his mind one last time as he passed through the ranks of trees and entered a large clearing in the sparser portions of the forest. There was nothing there but a large flat stone, surrounded by forest grass and moss. Yet this was exactly where the stranger told him to meet him if he found himself interested. Exactly the right time, and exactly the right place. Yet the man was nowhere to be seen.

"And what's in this for you?" Solomon recalled his last words with the stranger before he left the pub that night.

"Oh, fear not my friend. I will tell you when we meet again."

[Jasmine]

Jasmine thought back to why she was doing this. Why in the world was she meeting some stranger that she’d talked to only briefly in the middle of nowhere? There was not much the man could’ve offered her. In fact, he hadn’t offered much at all, so why was she doing this? The answer was very simple. She was doing this because he’d told her a way she could find out certain information.

The night had begun like any other. She’d come into town tired and hungry. At the tavern, a man in a cloak had approached her, offering her a job. At first, she refused, claiming to be uninterested, but then he had gone on to tell her of what he needed her to do. He spun vivid stories of what this thing was he wanted her help in finding. In particular, he told of what it could do for her.

How did he know about my parents anyway? I’ve never told anyone…

She at last found the clearing the man had described to her, but was surprised to see another person there as well. He was tall, taller than her, but that was no surprise. His hair was as black as hers, though hers was much longer as it fell to the middle of her thighs, braided neatly in a single braid that hung down the middle of her back. His clothing was strange to her eyes, but she didn’t set much store on the way people dressed. She had learned a long time ago that clothing did not make a person what they were.

“Ummm…hello? My name is Jasmine, I was supposed to meet someone here, but you aren’t the person. Who are you?”

[Malagen]

“You know why have I come here, witch...” a voice spoke from the darkness of the hood that shadowed the face just as cold and emotionless as the words that entered the ears of the mid-aged shaman woman that sat calmly with her legs crossed beneath her. She knew about Malagen and his sworn vengeance to her kind – the Dram shamans of Ferioh – just as she knew that her hour of death came the very second the black bulky figure entered her tent. Yet her eyes were closed and her face as still as if there was nobody present in her quarters. Only the tender wind that followed in Malagen’s wake stirred up her silky robes, revealing a portion of her luscious skin that lost none of it’s attractiveness to the years that passed her by.

“Yes, Malagen.” she simply replied, her dark red lips the only thing that moved save her thin light blue robes that nearly shown more then they hid. “But I can only tell you what the ones before me told you as well: I know nothing of your origin.” she added as her eyelids slid upwards gently and revealed two pitch black eyes as hollow as the void itself. But though malevolence could be read from those black pearls, the azure eyes of the Dram messiah could also read truth in them. Even though she was a Dram shaman, she was not one of those that molded him into the killing machine he was today. And despite all her wisdom, even she couldn’t give him the answer Dharnia asked just before he murdered her in cold blood (as if there was any other kind coursing through his veins). [/I]“Where do you come from, Malagen?”[/I] he remembered the words of the red haired woman that was the only one that managed to stir some emotion in the piece of rock that used to be his heart. And then his saber slit her throat.

“Then you die like the rest.” he spoke so calmly that one could mistake his coldness with lack of interest, as if he was a person that was speaking with the tax collector about the weather outside while deep down inside he just wanted to get rid of him. In reality that was just who Malagen was, and the tranquility in his voice was just the reflection of his inner feeling, or lack thereof. Even as he spoke his hand slowly slipped under his heavy coat, grasping the hilt of one of his sabers that stood on his back, crisscrossed and turned upside down. He made a step towards the beautiful looking black haired sorceress and the face of the woman changed and the calmness that reigned there was just a memory.

“No, wait.” her hand rose as if she could magically stop his advance with her palm pointed at him. Truth was she couldn’t use her magic, not against him. After all, they raised him to be the savior of all Feiroh, their own messiah that would lead them to their rightful homeland; Savion. But her words did nothing to hinder his advance and with agonizing slowness he approached the female. “I said wait, damn you!” she shouted as she sprung to her feet and once again pointed his palm at Malagen. This time an invisible wall appeared in front of the man and though his bulk could not pass it, his azure eyes could see the flame in her frowning look. He paused his advance. “I speak the truth when I say I know nothing about your origins... But I just might know somebody with such knowledge.”

Malagen did not stir at this information. He merely waited for her to finish, knowing quite well that he could mug through the telekinesis wall and cut her down like fresh spring grass. Maybe a minute nod appeared, a minimal movement of his hidden countenance as his eyes looked at her with same icy chillness from the safety of his oversized hood.

“There is a stranger that walks about, spreading the word that he could provide the kind of information you seek. You can find him somewhere around Radasanth...” she spoke, both her hand and her voice quivering gently not because she struggled to keep her wall up, but because she knew what would follow. “I didn’t speak this because I fear you, Malagen. I did it because I want to help you. Now have your way with me.” she said calmly as a single tear drifted down her cheek. Before the sparkling tear reached the line of her jaw the steel saber pierced her heart and her body fell on the ground, lifeless as the face of her executor.

Too late for help...

***

It seemed this stranger held quite a reputation in these lands because Malagen tracked him down with no difficulty at all. That, however, only made him wonder how wise this man really was when he made himself vulnerable by spreading his wisdom so openly. With wisdom came power and with power came the envy of others and envy sooner or later led to death. A wise man would make sure it was not his own and the mysterious stranger could consider himself happy it was not his own the day he met Malagen. The two met only once and they quite a run-in that day, the man inches away from the line that separated his flesh from Malagen’s blade. But those couple of inches were enough for the man to speak something that intrigued the dark man.

“I don’t have the answers to the question you are seeking, young Dram messiah, but I know a way for you to find them.” he spoke during their first meeting and it was not the possibility of truth that stunned Malagen, but the title the old man gave him. Few knew of that title and none of them lived outside the land of Ferioh. Until now. So the dark swordsman decided to spare him, at least until he learned if there was truth in those words.

All of that placed Malagen in a shadow of a huge oak tree that stood some fifty paces away from the clearing where the stranger told him to wait for him and the others. He didn’t care about the others, he didn’t work with the others and as far as he was concerned he could cut his way through the others just to get his valuable information. Two of these others already gathered at the designated clearing, one of them looking like a capable fighter and the other a minute dark-haired female, and by the looks of it they were strangers to each other. He didn’t care about this. He wasn’t in on this because of camaraderie or some friendly bondage with the others. He needed information and neither of the two had it, so he opted to lie low, out of sight of others, and wait for the stranger to make his entrance.

[Sifer]

((Sorry about the wait, im just very stressed out right now due to a large amount of things that need my attention. Im just spreading myself a little thin lately.))

Nymraif wandered down the lonely path, it was beginning to look rather frightful as the sun slowly slid beneath the horizon. He wasn’t quite sure where he was going but he knew the forest would take care of him, it was a personal bond between the woods and the wood elves, and they would protect one another. He had this irritating itch at the back of his mind; something, somewhere, someone was waiting for him and it held a very large piece of important information for Nymraif’s quest.

It was a small, folded piece of paper. Nymraif noticed it and felt some sort of drive to pick it up where normally he wouldn’t. He looked around cautiously. He had a feeling that something wasn’t quite right but when he bent over to pick it up and stood back up nothing had happened. It was like some sort of trap that hadn’t sprung, there was no explanation for the feeling that Nymraif had… yet.

On the paper was a detailed letter beginning with Nymraif’s name. His face went pale and he looked around again then continued reading. The letter told him that he would be able to meet someone of great importance to him even if that person had passed to another life. Nymraif went from a terrible feeling to overly excited. This letter said that he would be able to meet someone that had died: his brother.

But whats the catch?

He read on, the only way to find out the information was to meet him personally. The idea brought that funny feeling back to him. This could easily be some sort of trap, but who would want to capture or kill Nymraif? There was only one way to find out. He looked to the trees and they beckoned to him.

Follow the path… His mind told him.

So it was decided, he would follow the path that would lead him the meeting place and when he got there he would find out how to talk to his brother again. First he had to get there, the forest would lead him.

**

There were others there. He could see them through the trees, two others. Nymraif wasn’t sure if they had been brought here like he had or if they were the people he was supposed to meet. If they were there to join him then what was the reason? There must have been some sort of quest involved; it was the only conclusion that Nymraif came to. He slowly ventured out of the forest, the branches parted for him and he came into the view of the others. It was large opening in the forest and the sun was shining here unlike in the forest like some sort of powerful magic.

Strange…

[Solomon]

It wasn't long at all before Solomon realized he was not the only person summoned to the clearing. He had only been there a couple of minutes when a long and dark haired girl made her way through the trees and into view. Approaching him across the vale, she introduced herself as Jasmine. Then asked Solomon just who he was.

"I'm Solomon." He replied to her. Although he did not intend it, the words were somewhat cold and blunt. He was frowning as he said it, not out of anger, but out of thought. He could tell by what Jasmine said that she was also expecting to meet this stranger here, yet was also surprised to see that another person was going to be taking part of it. Solomon now began to wonder just how many people were going to be involved in ‘this’ and… what 'this' was going to entail.

Just as he was thinking another person appeared out of the forest thicket and came into the clearing with them. This gentleman appeared to be Elven, and was dressed for the forest. Unfortunately the stranger who had summoned them all here had not yet shown himself.

I wonder why this stranger wanted us three? Solomon thought. Perhaps one of the others might know a little bit more about everything.

Solomon introduced himself to the new arrival, then proceeded to make small talk to see if either Jasmine or this other fellow knew anything he didn't about this 'offer' the man had laid down, or about the man himself.

It was nearly ten minutes after the meeting that a voice rapidly called each of them by name. Solomon looked up as soon as he heard it. To the north of where Solomon stood, between the trunks of two great trees, there was the man they had come here to see. He stood there, strong in his stance and boldly observing all of the gathered adventurers. His dreary wander's cloak hung loosely at his feet and his hood was down to reveal his dark hair and goatee.

"Welcome!" He announced with a loud, yet plain type of voice. He took a few steps further into the space that opened up the great forest floor to the blue and white skies above. "I know you probably all have many questions for me, and I welcome them. Let me start by introducing myself. I am Belvir, I wander all over this realm in search of hidden things." He said with a calm grin.

[Jasmine]

Jasmine smiled softly, “Hello then, Solomon. What brings you-“

She stopped mid-sentence as the wood elf appeared. She started to greet him as well, but decided against it. Her long black braid shone in the sunlight like polished ebony. Figuring that these two must have been called here by the same person as she, if not necessarily for the same reason, she did not take the time to finish the question she had started to ask Solomon. Instead, she good-naturedly answered his questions as best she could and even asked some of her own.

Around them in the trees she could hear birds singing. The cheerful sounds filled her heart with joy and made her want to dance with the happy birds, but she remembered quite clearly that she was not alone. She kept her composure and found a rock to sit on while they waited and chatted.

So caught up in their conversation was she, that Belvir’s sudden arrival surprised her. Standing from her rock, she turned to watch the man that had told her about the mysterious object that could tell her the truth about certain events in her past. However, he had never told her exactly what it was. He had said that he couldn’t mention in a place where unfriendly ears might be listening.

“Good afternoon, Belvir. For starters, I’d like to know if we’re expecting anyone else for this. I’d also like to know, finally, what the heck it is you’re wanting found.”

"All in good time, dear Jasmine. Any other questions before I answer hers?"

[Malagen]

They gathered around and chewed the fat, three of them now with the newcomer elf that looked like one of those fair tree-huggers that went a tad too high on herbs and thought forest was their mother. Malagen never quite understood people – never quite tried to either – and their ridiculous tendency to yap some nonsense that they would forget before nightfall just so they would pass time. But he let them have their little palaver. They weren’t the reason why he came here. He came here because of the odds, and odds spoke that he had a better chance finding the answer to Dharnia’s question with this man’s counsel then without it. So he sat back and waited.

Luckily for his patience that was wearing dangerously thin, the wise stranger made an appearance shortly after the arrival of the elf. He seemed like a stout fellow to Malagen, not at all what he expected who went around spreading wisdom as if it was candy. The Dram expected an old geezer, somebody that walked on three legs instead of two, but Belvir most certainly didn’t fit the profile. Not that it mattered that much anyways. Even if he was a toothless granny, his fate would be the same. He would give Malagen the answer. And if he failed to comply, he would become very dead very soon. And if the three good-for-nothings that gathered around him didn’t like that plan, they could join the man.

With such disposition, Malagen stepped forward just as Belvir asked if there were any other questions. “Here’s one.” the dark barbarian spoke, his voice utterly emotionless as he strode forwards, slowly introducing his imposing figure to the clearing. Despite the sun, his pale face was shaded just enough to make his dead azure eyes the only visible contour of his face. He walked past the weak girl that introduced herself as Jasmine, bumped his shoulder with Solomon intentionally and stood before Belvir serenely.

“Ah, Malagen. We’ve been expecting...”

“Shut your trap.” Malagen spoke, interrupting the man, and even though his words were harsh, his tone was flat, even annoyed a little bit. “You supposedly have some information I’m interested in.”

Belvir peered into the shadow of his hood with unflinching eyes, tranquil and unfazed by the abrasive intermission. “Well, not exactly. You see, I have information that could lead you...”

Again Malagen interrupted and this time it wasn’t with words. His hands dipped into his coat, producing a pair of sabers in a flash. He maybe wasn’t the brightest person around, but he knew a sham when he saw one. Information that led to a clue that led to a map that led to more information that ultimately made you run in circle. This man was full of dung. His right saber pointed at Belvir’s throat. His other swung backwards, fending off the other three.

“Back off.” he said to the others, not even regarding them with a look. “If you don’t know the answer to my question, then you’re of no use to me.”

And yet even now, with a blade inches away from ripping his throat, the man didn’t flinch. “Perhaps. And perhaps I’m your only chance to contact your parents. That is what you want, Malagen? To find out who they were and what happened before you turned into a Dram Messiah?”

Malagen didn’t move. Not because Belvir’s words startled him or provoked any kind of reaction in his head, but because the barbarian was doing his calculation. And right now the wise stranger was dancing on the edge of the blade, smackdab between death and extension of his existence. The stalemate lasted for a couple of seconds, silence thick and dire enough to be cut with a knife, before Malagen’s blade disappeared in his coat once again.

“Fine. Speak your proposition. If it’s good, I might not kill you... yet.”

He took a couple of steps back, completely ignorant towards the reaction of the three towards his actions, propping his back against a tree.

[Letho]

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