This takes place upon returning to the City of No Names after fighting with the gnomes. Just meant to be an area where our characters look back and reflect on everything that has happened since their resurrection.

Enjoy!

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"Reflections"

Silence dominated the darkened common room.

The remnants of a fire glowed within the hearth, casting only the dimmest illumination, a faint light that failed to stretch to the shadowy corner in which Arius sat. All of the inn’s other guests had long since retired to their rooms, leaving the black-clad elf alone with his thoughts. Had anyone ventured into the common room at this late an hour, they probably would have never even known that Arius was there, for in the inky blackness the fey warlock would have been seen as nothing more than another shadow. Arius shifted his position slightly, pulling his cloak tighter about himself as he tilted the brim of his traveling hat further down, obscuring his pale features with darkness. Only his eyes, two points of iridescent amethyst light, could be seen in the shadows, reflecting the dim illumination from the dying flames.

Daerist spoke. “So, you now know Jeyld’s fate, Arius,” the former sword said softly within his mind. “Has that eased your spirit, my friend? If so, what then troubles you now?”

“You’ve been keeping to yourself lately,” Arius replied quietly, closing his eyes. “Once again I’d thought myself rid of you, only to be disappointed.” There was a hint of sly humor in his voice, for both knew that Arius didn’t truly wish Daerist gone. In the long, long years that they’d spent together, they had each come to appreciate the other’s company, though neither would openly admit such.

The sounds of late night revelers in the streets drifted into the common room, breaking the silence for a moment before moving on. Soft noises drifted down from above, as apparently some of the sleepers upstairs had been disturbed by the racket in the street as well. Arius smiled slightly as he thought of what his companions would think, should they awaken and find him gone.

“They would most likely assume the worst,” Daerist put in. “And who could blame them, really? You really have made some stupid mistakes in the past, you know…”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Arius asked suddenly, changing the subject without warning. Daerist didn’t have to ask Arius what he’d meant, for he shared the newly-reborn elf’s mind, and he knew what thoughts and worries had been churning there. Arius referred to his heritage, which had been in doubt ever since the battle at Galdria, when the two of them together had destroyed the elven kingdom’s heart. The formerly-cursed warrior had been content to let the subject lie until finding out what had become of Jeyld, but now it seemed he was determined to get an answer.

“Well?” prompted Arius, toying absently with his recently-returned dryad dagger. The elven warrior balanced the wooden blade by its tip on the end of his finger, quickly pulling his arm back, causing the weapon to fall and be caught repeatedly. Daerist made no response, and Arius felt the fey spirit’s presence leave his mind, retreating to wherever it was he went when not pestering the amethyst-eyed warlock.

Arius sighed, reveling in the feeling of having his mind to himself. Times like these were few and far between, and—though he’d never wish himself rid of Daerist—the black-cloaked elf longed for the solitude that was often denied him. He turned his thoughts to the events of the last several days and found himself feeling slightly overwhelmed. That he and his friends had been returned to Bolermos to serve some greater purpose he had come to accept, but what exactly that purpose was still eluded him. He’d come up with several theories, discarding each as he analytically dissected them one at a time. He had hoped for some hint from Jeyld, but his long-dead friend had seemed reticent to speak of it, if he had known anything to begin with. Replacing his dryad dagger within his night-dark cloak, Arius shook his head at the futility of trying to understand the workings of the gods.

Whether we destroyed Tempest and the others or not, he thought to himself, that doesn’t change the fact that our final confrontation threw the whole of Bolermos into chaos. Jeyld said that we spared the world much suffering, but that, I’m afraid, is cold comfort…

The innkeeper entered the darkened common room, going about his usual morning business, entirely unaware that Arius was even there. The elf turned his head slightly, looking out the window to see the faint hint of dawn sunlight on the horizon. He was shocked to discover it nearly morning, but he remained still, lest he give the innkeeper the fright of his life. The elf drew his cloak tightly about him, wrapping himself up in the black material as he closed his eyes, tilting his hat further down to block the brightening light streaming through the window. He had made a decision.

Until our reasons for being brought back are revealed, I will do everything I can to protect this broken world. I will not fail, not this time…

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AMdG

What a day...hell what a week...

Skamos tired feet slowly guided him on a path he knew very well. His home lay just ahead between two much nicer and better looking ones. They had managed to buy outright a small two story, complete with indoor plumbing. A small washroom complete with a Trounan's Own Waste disposer. It flushed all of the waste out of the home and into the sewers, a commodity few homes in the foreign quarter had acquired. The tiefling was quite proud of it though his wife thought it little more than a place for him to sit for hours studying his books. In truth that was why he was so proud of it.

He found himself at the front door and reaching for the knob when he felt hands wrap him up from behind. Before he could react he felt lips caressing his neck.

Please don't let it be an orc...

"Welcome home my love," a familiar voice whispered into his ear. The hands roughly turned him around and Skamos' breathe was squeezed out of him once more as the muscular female wrapped him up in a great hug. He actually rather enjoyed being squeezed so. When she finally released him, he was slightly more red than usual.

"How was your day my dear?" Skamos asked.

"Oh I found some rabbits today at the market, I had to uh...squeeze a decent price out of the guy. So there is some stew brewing in the kitchen for you. I also found a new dagger...wicked looking thing. It'd make it easier to rip some throats one day. Can I get it please?"

Skamos led the way inside as he said, "Sure hon whatever you'd like." He found his favorite chair beside the hearth and relaxed into it. Sifting through a few documents on a small table next to him, Skamos found the one he was looking for. An old copy of a copy of a song written by Jeyld the Sapphire. He poured over it as Tiena banged around in the kitchen. Once in a while she would make some comment about something on her mind to which he would reply "uh-huh" or "yeah" or "terrible news...terrible." His wife seemed satiated by his replies while his mind was entirely focused on what he was reading.

It was not the first time since the "visitation" that he had brought out old manuscripts from the local gnome library to peruse. He had been on the point of obsession for most of the last two weeks. The wizard hadn't decided whether he truly believed they were the great heroes of old. For one thing they were not nearly as strong as history had told. Hayato was a human, Arius was cursed, and Brude was an evil, deceiving, wart of a half-elf. Apparently, as the visit had laid bare, this is now not true.

Only one thing, besides Jeyld's word, stuck out in Skamos' mind as proof of thier identity, Hayato was as clumsy, if not more so, as the tales said.

Arius is just as reckless and Febrian is just as beautif-

"Skam? Will you please take this? It's hot." A muscular hand was holding a pewter bowl in front of his eyes. With a shake of his head, he slipped the document onto the table and took the bowl from her. He dug into the stew without a pause, not realizing how hungry he was. "Wow, is it that good?"

Skamos looked up with a smile, "Best stew I've ever had my dear."

A sly smile slid to his wife's lips, "Your looking for a little something extra tonight aren't you?" She slowly walked away with strides that exaggerated her comely hips. Skamos just watched with the spoon half into his mouth.

Now how can a guy concentrate with that running around...

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The next morning as Skamos washed himself in a large tub of steaming water, he looked over at his wife preparing herself for the day. She had not been the one he wanted and they both knew it but he did love her. He would not have it any other way now.

"So...the people I brought back from Galdria..." he began.

She paused while applying a bit of rouge, "Yes?"

"They're the heroes of prophesy returned from the dead."

A long silence...

...

...

"Pfffttt Ha ha HA HA HA HA HA HA HA ha ho ha." She looked at him with a huge grin on her face. "Hon, I've watched them practice and if you ask me they're nothing but a bunch of moochers. They've been running up a tab that you and Kid have been covering...and now I know why..." Her face turned from a grin to disbelief to anger. "They TOLD you they were heroes from old. They CONJURE a fake Jeyld from the dead. They LEAD you to your death so they can make MONEY!!!" She crushed the small brush in her hand to splinters as she turned on Skamos. "And YOU believe them?!"

Hands raised in the air, Skamos waved her off, "WHOA wait a minute. You didn't see what I saw. They brought Alaya the Lost out of the hairpin that we KNEW was the one. Jeyld gave Kid a sword out of thin air that has some really good power in it. Arius plays MUSIC...music hon and you saw it. And it's spreading. That was one of the prophesies. 'Music, lost of old shall be restored.' I don't make up the prophesy hon I just learn it. All the signs are there love you just have to look."

His bride's hand slowly opened as she relaxed, revealing a few splinters that had lodged into her palm. Skamos exited the tub and took her hand. Cleaning as much of the demolished brush away as possible, he began to pick out the splinters. They stood in silence broken only by sharp intakes of breath as he carefully relieved her of the tiny wooden spikes. Finally, he washed her hand with warm water that was to be his final rinse before dressing.

"I suppose that if you think they are who they are...I'll follow your judgment." Skamos tenderly kissed her hand and bound it with a fresh piece of cloth.

"I knew you would love...you know I'm not one to rush into a decision...unless it has something to do with burning." He smiled and began drying himself. As he dressed he thought about the future...

This could be a very interesting adventure...

Later that evening, after our heroes had returned from beating on some gnomes, Hayato was staring up towards the roof of the inn he and his companions had been staying at. He wanted to climb up on top, like he always did, but soon learned his metal body wasn't quite fit for getting onto the roof like he used to. Early, he tried climbing out through a window. However, the ledge was much too weak to support his new form and he plummeted down to the streets below. *CRASH!* "Ah, I landed on my knees!" If Hayato still had facial features, he'd be wincing in pain. He stood back up, looking up towards the roof. He tried jumping up towards it, but he barely got off the ground. He looked around frantically, seeing some crates stacked up. Once again, if he could make faces, he'd have a sinister grin on his face.

Hayato immediately set to work moving the crates, stacking them up in a triangular formation, creating a makeshift set of stairs. "Ha! I'm not nearly as dumb as everyone says." Hayato set his foot on top of a crate. He stood their for what seemed like forever, expecting his foot to go busting through at any moment. He gave a satisfied chuckle, then he proceeded to climb up the crates, and made it onto the roof. He stood there, thrusting his fists into the air and shouted "Ha! I"m smarter than you, roof!" Unfortunately, Hayato's sudden fist-thrusting caused him to jerk abit, causing him to lose balance, falling forward and rolling off the roof, landing on his head with a loud thud. "AH, SONUVA-!" "Hey, keep it down out there, will ya!?" Hayato promptly stood up, looking up at a man poking his head out his window. " Why don't you just shut up and lemme do my thing!?" "Oh, a wise guy, eh? Let's see how you like this!" The man threw a shoe at Hayato, which harmlessly bounced off his metal exterior. "Oh, so that's how you want to play, huh? Fine! TAKE THIS!" Hayato grabbed one of the crates, throwing it up towards the man's window, missing him, but hitting the side of the building instead. "That's it, I'm gettin' the constable on your shiny metal ass!" Hayato realized what he had just done, then took off running. "Dammit, I thought I was done making dumb decisions!" He turned his head towards the sapphire octopus on his shoulder. "I blame you!"

Now hiding in an alley, Hayato sat by some trash, a thought suddenly coming to him. Why did he go to the roof in the first place? Before, it was to relax, but mostly it was to get away from Gurl. But now there was no Gurl and he wasn't capable of roof sitting unless it was a flat roof. He sighed softly, glancing down at the ground. " Face it, Hay. This isn't your old life. Everything's different. Even you... " His head then perked up as he heard what sounded like a woman screaming. He quickly got up out of instinct, and went running towards the noise. Out in the street, a young woman waas being harassed by a couple ruffians. "Hey, c'mon babe, we just wanna play is all..." "No! Stay away!" The woman, whose hood was pulled up to conceal most of her face, backing away from the two hoodlums until she hit the wall. One of her assailants brandished a knife, tossing it up and down. "We kin do this the hard way, or deh easy way. Your choice." Just then, a barrel hit the knife wielding one in the back of the head, knockign him out. The second one turned his head, seeing a large war-forged standing above him. "Beat it", was all the metal man said, which sent the smaller man running in fear. The woman looked up towards the war-forged, shaking in fear, until she saw him back up abit. "Hey, you alright, miss?" She blinked abit, raising a brow. She then looked around. "yes, I'm fine. Were is your owner? I wish to properly thank him." She gave him a light smile. "Oh, er... I don't have one, to be honest. I mean, I'm not a war-forged if that's what you're thinking! Eheh..." "Oh! My mistake." The two of them laughed together, eventually it died down. The woman pulled back her hood, revealing a head full of long, goregeous red hair. Hayato looked in awe, dumbfounded by her goregeous features. "So, does my savior have a name?", she asked with a lovely smile on her face.

Hayato went to answer her, but then stopped. What if using his real name weirded her out like it did with the tiefling and the dragonborn? "Hachi. My name is Hachi." The woman raised a brow. "Hachi? No offense,b ut that's a rather odd name." "Blame my parents." This prompted her to laugh again at his little joke. "So, what's your name? I'm assuming it's nothing quite as weird as Hachi." "Maya. Maya Tsukiyomi." "Tsukiyomi... that's not a native name, is it?" Maya glanced away. "Actually, I'm not from around here. I'm actually from-" "Hai-Lan?" Hayato's answer had taken her by surprise. "Why... yes! How did you- " "I'm from Hai-Lan too! I mean, I used to live there, but that was a long time ago." This revelation set off a number of varying conversations between the two, talking about how Hai-lan's life style had changed over the years, some of the people that had lived there, and then simply talking about whatever popped in their minds. Hayato hadn't talked to a native of his village in years, not since... Hayato grew silent for a moment. "Hayato?" Hayato's head perked up at her voice. "Hm?" Maya smiled. "It's morning already." "Oh... so it is." The two looked up as the sun began to rise, enjoying the view. Maya stood up. "I should be heading home now... I'm surprised we stayed up so late. Can I... see you again some time?" Hayato tried not to give her a definite answer. "Sure! how about tomorrow?" Idiot. "Sure, sounds great. And maybe I'll get to see your face." She laughed abit, then began heading off. "See you later, Hachi." Hayato simply waved, watching her walk off. Then hayato realized it. He was in love. "Well... at least she's easier on the eyes...."

(Sorry about the sloppiness of this post, I wanted to get this out before today's session.)

Arius leaned against the railing.

The ship bobbed up and down on the waves as the tide rolled in, preparing to take the vessel out of the harbor and onto the open ocean. The bright morning sun cast its rays upon the water, its warmth causing a faint cloud of mist to rise from the cool sea, its salty scent fresh and clean. In the rigging and on the docks, men shouted to one another, running to and fro as they made the final preparations for the coming journey. If the captain they’d hired was to be believed, this voyage would take the better part of two months, so everything was being checked and rechecked, lest something go terribly wrong in the middle of the trip.

Hai-Lan…

Arius was less than thrilled with the prospect of visiting Hayato’s homeland, but he had readily agreed to accompany Skamos and the others simply for the sake of reclaiming the miraculously rediscovered Blue Fox statue. The elven warlock still didn’t know what his true purpose in being revived was, but he was determined to do whatever he could to make up for his failures in the past, no matter what. It was for that reason that Arius played his music, why he had blindly followed an enraged Skamos into the sewers below the city in search of his wife, and why he now waited to journey to a strange land on rumor alone. That there was the potential for danger on this quest was a given, yet for some reason, Arius found his mind wandering to other things.

Now, at the time when he should have been worried about what was to come, the seemingly-young man’s thoughts turned instead to what he was leaving behind…

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Last night…

Ellia’s fingers danced over the strings of the lute.

Arius watched, captivated, as the young woman coaxed a beautiful melody from the instrument in her hands, its notes drifting through the air, filling the empty common room with an atmosphere of the surreal. The music seemed to be the only sound tonight, as both the guests upstairs—which included Arius’ companions—and the drunks outside were unusually quiet. She continued to play, the notes of her song bringing a kind of brightness to the darkened room, which was lit only with the single candle that rested upon the table between Ellia and Arius.

As the barmaid continued, Arius slowly brought his violin up to his shoulder, running the bow along the strings to release a long, low note that ran counterpoint to the high, almost cheerful melody of Ellia’s lute. He waited a moment before going on, as if to let his ear adjust to the music that surrounded him, until finally closing his eyes and joining in. As always, Arius lost himself completely in the music, and—not for the first time—he marveled at the fact that, now, he was able to play simply for the joy of it, not to use the instrument as a form of releasing his pent up anger and sorrow.

He also marveled at Ellia’s skill, though he was forced to wonder, as he often had, whether or not the music she played was truly her own, or whether Jeyld had imbued the lute with some piece of himself. Pushing that thought aside, Arius realized that he really didn’t care, for music after all was music, wasn’t it? And if this young woman was able to restore music to the whole of Bolermos, who really cared where that music was coming from? Ellia would now live a much better, much more comfortable life than she would have ever dreamed, for the news of her ability was spreading, and wasn’t that enough?

Arius stopped, opening his eyes to study Ellia in the dim light of the candle as she played on, her eyes locked on some point in space between them, oblivious it seemed to Arius’ presence altogether. She was very pretty, Arius was forced to admit, and not just for a human. He had been raised around elven women of staggering beauty while living in Galdria, and Ellia could very easily have held her own against even them, a true rarity among humans, who—in Arius’ opinion—were generally plain at best, and downright hideous at worst. As he watched her, the fey warlock felt something stir within him, a pull toward this young woman that he found more than slightly disturbing. He knew immediately what had caused this feeling:

Ellia looks uncannily like Nanethiel…

It was true. As Arius watched Ellia play, he was transported back to the days of his youth, when he and Nanethiel had been on the run, making their way through the archipelago in search of a new home. There had been many nights when the two of them had sat round a small campfire, he lost in thoughts of his own, Nanethiel strumming away quietly upon her lute. Both women—Ellia and Nanethiel—also shared the same emerald eyes that seemed to glow in the candlelight, and the same honey-golden hair that framed their pale faces and hung unfettered down their backs. It was unreal…

Arius was snapped out of his reverie by a soft giggle, and he had the good grace to blush slightly as he noticed Ellia studying him in return. Arius had forwent his usual clothing tonight, forsaking his ever-present black cloak and leather armor for a simple, dark blue under-tunic, which left his arms bare from the shoulders down. The black trousers that he wore weren’t his typical travel worn and oft-mended ones, and they were tucked into the tops of a pair of calf-high boots that had been shined just earlier that day. His traveling pack and his sword lay on the floor beside him.

He suddenly realized how silent the room had become.

“It’s getting late,” he said softly as he began to wrap his violin securely within the length of blue silk that he carried for just that purpose. He said nothing else as he continued with his task, but he could feel Ellia’s eyes upon him the entire time. Finally he looked up, locking gazes with her, and seeing a fire in her shimmering green eyes that was most certainly not a reflection from the candle.

“Arius,” she said, her voice low and quiet, “thank you so much for everything… Without your help, I don’t think I’d ever have gotten as good as I am now.” The two had been playing together as often as possible over the past few weeks, and she was right: her skill had increased dramatically after Arius finally given in to her pleading for aid. She smiled at him, the expression a haunting mirror of Nanethiel.

Arius merely shrugged as he stood, shouldering his pack after placing his violin within. “With enough practice, you would have still gotten to this point,” he said with a faint smile in return, “though, I will admit, it would have taken you years, at least.” As he reached down to pick up his sword belt, Ellia reached out for him.

Arius pulled his arm back as if he’d stuck it into a roaring furnace, eliciting a gasp of surprise from the young woman. He spun, turning his back to her as he took a few steps, putting some space between them. His fists were clenched, his nails digging into his palms as he shook his head. Ellia remained seated, her eyes wide and shining, one hand covering her mouth as if she were terrified. She started to speak.

“Don’t,” Arius interrupted, turning to face her once again. “Just don’t…”

“But, I thought—”

“No, Ellia,” the elf said, his voice tinged with a hint of regret. “Just go to bed. As I said, it’s getting late, and I’m sure you’ll have just as early a start as I will tomorrow. Good night,” he finished making his way toward the stairs that led up to the room he’d been sharing with Hayato of all people.

“I just wanted to properly thank you, Arius,” she spoke, standing and making her way toward him. She stopped a few paces away, both hands clutching tightly to the lute she held against her chest. She was trembling. “Please…”

“Good night, Ellia.” With that, Arius made his way upstairs, leaving the stunned barmaid behind him in the darkness.

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The shouts of the crewmen pulled Arius back to the present.

“I’d wager that every man in town—and that includes no small number of adventuresome dragonborn—would have paid good money to have been in your shoes last night,” Daerist said within Arius’ mind, his voice accompanied by the strange sensation that the elf had come to recognize as Daerist’s equivalent of a laugh. “You’re such a monster, turning down a sweet young girl like that…”

Arius said nothing, choosing to ignore the ancient spirit’s words rather than dignify them with a response.

Daerist continued anyway.

“What caused you to do such a thing, I wonder? Surely you found her attractive enough, yes?” When Arius still refused to answer, the former-sword went on. “It can’t be that she’s a human, since I know that you’ve long since abandoned that particular prejudice… It can’t be that you don’t care for blondes, since Nanethiel—”

“Silence,” Arius hissed, interrupting Daerist and actually surprising the fey spirit with the vehemence of his tone. “Enough, damn you…”

The one-time King of Galdria was silent, but only for a moment.

“Perhaps, then, you’ve not quite gotten over that loss?” he asked brazenly.

Arius surprised himself by answering, “That isn’t the problem. I’ve left all that behind me, Daerist… All of it…” He sighed, gazing down at the waves, saying nothing more.

“That can leave only one thing then,” Daerist said. “There is someone else, isn’t there?”

“Why bother asking?” Arius inquired bitterly, finding himself suddenly irritated by Daerist’s endless stream of very personal questions. “You seem to have free reign of my thoughts, so why don’t you tell me: is there someone else or not?” He waited for an answer, ignoring the raucous call of the gulls above as they cried out for food. The birds would follow the ship all the way to Hai-Lan, most likely, roosting in the spars above and picking through the crew’s offal for food.

When Daerist spoke again, his voice seemed more subdued than usual. “You once told me that a man’s thoughts should be his own; do you remember that?” Arius nodded, seemingly to himself. “Well that is only partially true: a man’s thoughts remain his own so long as he keeps a firm reign on them. A man’s heart, however, is a different story, Arius. Not even the most gifted of seers can peer through the veil that surrounds the heart, for its secrets can prove to be far greater than anything found within the mind.” The spirit was silent for a long time before he continued. “But you haven’t answered my question: is there someone else that you care for or not?”

Arius didn’t reply.

“I see then. Your silence, my friend, speaks far louder than any words ever could. But what you choose to keep to yourself, I shall respect…” Suddenly Daerist was gone, leaving Arius’ mind silent.

The black-clad elf continued to watch the waves breaking against the hull of the ship, as if hypnotized by their rolling rhythm. Behind him, he was vaguely aware of the others finally arriving on board, their chattering a strange counterpoint to the serenity he had enjoyed earlier that morning. The captain began calling out orders, and eventually the journey was underway, for the wind was brisk and the sea calm.

Arius was oblivious to the goings on around him, though, as he tried to ignore the pair of familiar, striking sapphire eyes that seemed to gaze up at him from the ocean below…

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Alright, this one's finished. Thanks to everyone who posted for making it a great story!

On to the next!

AMdG