Monday, September 5, 2011

A Harper's Tale


Dakon Hawkmayne kept a comfortable home on the outskirts of Goldenfields. Stables and dog pens surrounded his house, and his position with the Harpers often led company to his door. Eriadne Thann was his latest guest, having spent the two weeks before Shieldmeet at his small ranch. She had spent these two weeks building familiarity and competence with the trained war hounds she had purchased from him. She had also availed herself to his private library, mainly a collection of lore pertaining to the High Forest. Dakon took a quick liking to the young Harper, and admired her resolve and dedication to unearthing the truth to her family’s disgrace generations ago.

In his library, Eriadne finally found some information about the mysterious and secretive Elkoremarr, an evil summoner hidden in the High Forest, and connected to her family’s ruin. The more she read, the more appalled she had become to think that she was born to the shunned branch of the Thann noble family, cast out for trafficking the slaves and creatures this mad wizard needed for his extra-planar summonings. Though it did not remove the sting of having nobility and its rewards wrest from her, she began to understand why the Thann family took such drastic measures to distance the slavers of their clan. All the tomes and journals indicated a menacing tower in the High Forest, somewhere between the Lost Peaks and the Star Mountains, beyond The Hall of Four Ghosts. All describe horrific lower planar creatures roaming the lands within one days walk of the Tower. Some journals of knights and warriors tell tales of companies of men killed in combat on failed attempts to siege the Tower. In no book was a tale of any one having escaped from the Tower. 

“So do you think he is still in that horrible Tower?” Eriadne asked as she double-checked all of her packs and bags as she loaded the horse and donkeys. It was the morning after Shieldmeet.

“As I have said, time flows very strangely in the High Forest. He lived for many years that we know of, though he has not been heard from in at least twenty years” Dakon handed her last saddle bag over to her.

“Hey, what is this?” she sounded very surprised.

“What?”

“These boots sticking out of that pouch. My magic slippers go in that pouch and they are gone!” 

“ Well I don’t know any thing about that, but these boots bear magic of their own.” Dakon inspected them closely. “ This design is one I’m familiar with. I’d bet a sack of silver that these are a pair of Boots of the North! Many a ranger insists upon these when winter comes to the north. In fact . . .

2 comments:

James said...

Nice job coffin. :)

James said...

Minor changes are in Italics. :)