It had been a few days since his tense arguement with Arien, Seva, and Ahleera. Of all those, Arien, his wife, was the first to let him scream his frustrations out. His anger and frustration at the lack of holding any intelligent or spiritual worth to the Fellowship, had finally broke it's limits.
For years now, the Circle of the Seven Daggers and the Fellowship of the Silver Unicorn have fought against the nearby, cave-dwelling Malarites. He fought against atleast a hundred, several different kinds of were-beasts and fought a corrupted forest spirit named Ananasi who killed Arien while she was pregnant with Keriwen, along with all of her spider minions that would cloak themselves in darkness and fire. He had gone through ritual after ritual, trying to appease the angered forest spirits that had turned their backs on mankind, due to mankind's lack of compassion for such things of nature. And worst of all, he fought against Grunddakkar, a loyal minion and powerful aspect of Malar's fury. Twice, he had to put down the foul beast at the bottom of the Howling Caves, in order to gain peace for the people of Daggersprings.
Though he was not a follower of a nature deity, he was a Tyrran, who believed justice should be served in defense to those unfortunate of Daggersprings. He had stood by his love, his Fellowship, and the people of Daggerdale and Daggersprings, time and time again without question, against the Malarites.
And now... there was the possibility of bringing all the past fights back to the forefront.
In recent tendays, an outcast Malarite, a druid wizard of great power, had begun controlling the weak-minded, animals and ogres, enspelling them with the skill of a knowledged user of the Art. The days travelling back and forth to Dagger Falls for supplies, had become lethal to the extent that it became necessary to travel in groups and fully-armed. Large vipers, shielded with invisibility and skins of stone, laid in wait, their minds forced to take on that of a weapon of the mad druid mage, that sought any traveller's deaths.
Worse off, was what the druid mage had planned: an ancient, vile ritual that would allow him control of anyone, within a long distance, thus becoming a force to be truly reckoned with.
And so the events transpired to a tenday or so ago, near the River Gate of Dagger Falls, where everyone, including Arakiel, had taken rest before heading back down the perilous road that lay between the Falls and Daggersprings. A kin to Malarites appeared, with a "gift" for the battle against the outcast druid mage. It was a horn that would summon Grunddakkar, one of his fiercest and most powerful enemies of the past. Immediately, Arakiel knew of the strings possibly attached to such a gift. Moons ago, Alendir Reltain, a druid of the Circle, survived the ordeal of a High Hunt and was granted a boon. His boon was that the Malarites had to leave Daggerdale and not return for as long as he lived. By using the horn so graciously offered by the Malarites, it was a break in the worded contract made by Alendir and Malar and that somehow, would finally "welcome" them back.
And so, Arakiel voiced his opinions sternly to Corporal Seva who retrieved the horn from the ground. Both Seva and Ahleera, thought the horn should be put to use, as a last ditch effort to win, but even then, Arakiel thought such an idea was wrong. He tried hard to make them see that replacing one enemy with another was no way of winning, and that their own faiths should be enough to stop the madman now inflicting the Dale with his foul magics. Such opinions angered both Seva and Ahleera, who thought Arakiel questioned their faiths and esteem, but such was hardly the case.
But regardless of Arakiel's defense, Seva and Ahleera thought him patronizing and disrespectful, and his wife even, who showed up at the argument late, began to take the side of desperation in using such a foul artifact. And so a link in the Circle broke, Ahleera stormed off angrily, Arien had her first real disagreement with Arakiel, and Arakiel walked off hurt and angered, his only thoughts were on a place to seek answers without his companion at his side.
He found the rubble where the land slid over Sir Ashton's house and the Shrine to the Triad years ago, and knelt in prayer to his god. An answer came, and not one he expected at all.
And so he returned, selflessly willing to give his services to the Fellowship once more, and yet still, Ahleera and the others were not satisfied at his sudden surrendering to his role amongst the Fellowship and Circle. Something inside him broke finally, and he knew undeniably that he was the most out-of-place among the nature followers.
Arien followed him to the Teshford Arms Inn, where his tired mind and soul sought rest. She bade him to speak, for she believed the passive acceptance in his service, was not really him. It was the tormenting words, " this is not the man I married", that drove Arakiel's spirited anger from him. He cursed Ahleera's and Seva's assumptions of his opinionated and knowledged advice. He told Arien all that burned him inside and out, about her own faults. He scored the room with harsh tone and seething eyes of frustration, his fist even driving into the bed at force, when his anger peaked.
Arien calmed him down, and he wept at the loss of anyone understanding him and his points-of-view. Numerous times since he had joined the Fellowship, he had felt like he didn't belong. He felt his sword was worth more than his words. Arakiel knew at times, the only thing that kept him there was Arien and the children, and that shook his core of being. His offered stern advice had the cost of a druid threatening to leave, and his marriage to be thrust into turmoil.
And now, his thoughts are invaded by the question of his belonging among the Fellowship. Does he truly belong as a member? And how can he escape the Circle and the Fellowship's charter if his family is entrenched in it? His voice does not belong among them, and yet he is there, his heart beside them. He was tired of apologizing to aloof, easily set-off Ahleera, and also did not want to see the Fellowship foolishly decide to bring back the Malarites back to Daggerdale on the account of success. Such things tired him in ways that not even discussion with Arien could absolve.
"Difficult paths lay ahead", he thought to himself, troubled by a destiny unknown to him.
~Killthorne~
The Black Knight of Tyr: No Perfect Circle
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Killthorne
- Orc Champion
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The Black Knight of Tyr: No Perfect Circle
Current PC: Ethan Greymourne, Ranger of Gwaeron Windstrom
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Drankathar
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