This post will be for initial reactions to the new world and some internal dialogue on the part of all of the characters. Let's start this from around the time you wake up.

Josh and I will work in a different post for what we were doing before your Goblin Attack. I like the freeform nature and I think we'll keep it. My only request is that you refrain from speaking for other characters.

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Fresh spring grass tickles the noses of a small group of adventurers sprawled around a clear saltwater pond. Three streams section off the area and flow into the pond though none can see any outlet. Cool air flows softly about, stirring leaf and hair alike. A small clearing around the pond ends at an old forest of old trees which cast old shadows. With a start the group awakens to a sight never beheld in thier lifetimes, though the massive basin they lie in is not to be ignored.

Arius sat apart from his companions, studying something on the ground before him.

He looked back over his shoulder to where Hayato, Brude, and Febrien lay unmoving in the grass beside the deep pool of water. Of them all, only the two elves had chosen to retain their original bodies, yet even though Hayato and Brude had changed drastically, Arius could easily identify them by the aura of their consciousness alone. The elven warrior smiled as he thought, After spending all that time together in the space between moments, I think that I could identify any of them no matter what they looked like… Febrien stirred, and Arius returned his attention to the small, violet colored flower that sprouted from the ground in front of where he knelt.

Please, he silently pleaded, his bare hand trembling as he reached forward. He moved slowly, one part of him knowing that his curse had been sundered by the spirit of Daerist, another part still fearing what may happen when his fingers finally came into contact with the flower’s petals. Just as contact was about to be made, Arius stopped, pulling his hand back and clenching his fist.

“You needn’t fear, Arius,” the mental voice of Daerist chided within the formerly cursed elf’s mind. “Did I not swear that if you bound yourself to me, I would free you from the torment inflicted by Tempest?”

“I know,” Arius replied quietly.

“Do you not trust me then, my friend?”

“Old habits die hard…”

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Arius floated within the void.

He was weightless, bodiless, yet somehow he could still “see” everything around him. A riot of colors—red, blue, purple, green, and a thousand other, all indescribable—swirled throughout the grey nothingness around him, warring with one another, as if to have dominance here, in this place between time and reality, were their only reason to exist. And, perhaps, they were right, for who could claim to know and understand such primal and ancient powers?

Time seemed to stand still in this place, and Arius drifted for what may have been seconds or centuries, he didn’t know which. He knew his companions were here, for he could feel their energy around him, calm spots amid the chaotic flow of energy that surrounded him. For a moment though, Arius felt a stab of panicked doubt, for there were some that he could no longer sense.

Jaden… Gurl... Alaya... JEYLD!

“Be calm, Son of Galdria,” a soothing voice echoed around him. “Remember, Jeyld was taken just before you pierced the heart, he will live on and prosper. Worry not about his fate.”

This seemed to calm the elf a little, but did nothing to reassure him about the others. What of the cleric, and Gurl? And what has become of Alaya? he wondered, somehow already knowing and fearing the answer that he would be given. Were they spared as well?

The familiar, comforting voice remained silent before speaking, his words seeming to come from the very flows of energy that flooded this timeless place. “They have moved on, all but Alaya. Her fate is... unknown to me at this time.” As if the voice could sense Arius’ distress, it continued, reassuringly saying “Do not burden yourself with the responsibility of their deaths, Arius, for the decision to leave this existence was their own. They, like you, were given the choice of continuing on, to be returned to the world when the time was right, but for their own reasons they chose to pass on.” Silence followed this, and Arius found himself feeling slightly better.

And what of us, then? Arius silently asked.

“Understand, Arius, that there are powers at work here beyond both of us,”[i] the voice—which Arius now realized was in fact Daerist—said. [i]“And those powers have been kind enough to offer you a second chance, and not just at life.”

Arius directed his thoughts toward Daerist, What do you mean?

“Do not assume that, since your body has been destroyed, your curse has been destroyed with it…”

The cursed elf felt a sensation of sorrow rise up within him, threatening to overflow, blending with the already raging storm of energy around him. Had he a physical form, Arius would have screamed, for he had been sure that with the destruction of the Anti-Triumvirate and the heart of Galdria, his curse would be broken. Hopelessness more powerful and potent than any he’d ever felt before overtook the elf, and he silently wept within his own mind. From within this cloud of despair, though, a beacon of light shone, and Arius suddenly found himself transported to another place.

As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but a blindingly brilliant white light. Arius looked down, smiling slightly as he saw his old body, still clad in the black leather armor and ever present gauntlets. He knew almost instantly that this was an illusion, that his body hadn’t truly been returned to him, yet it still felt amazing to have a physical form again after drifting for what seemed like an eternity within the void. A shimmering in the fabric of the light before him signaled the arrival of another, and Arius wasn’t surprised at all when Daerist, in an illusion of his original elven body, appeared. The ancient King of Galdria stood arrayed in the robes of state that he would have worn in life, of flowing silk in shades of dark blue, violet, and jet black. Upon his brow, holding back his silver-grey hair, Daerist wore a thin circlet of gold, the closest that the kings of Galdria ever came to wearing a crown. His piercing blue eyes lit up with amusement as he noticed how pleased Arius seemed to be with his “body.”

“Arius,” he said simply, inclining his head. The black-clad elf dropped to one knee, showing the deference required of a subject to his ruler. Daerist only laughed, laying a hand upon the raven-haired warrior’s shoulder as he instructed him to rise. “There will be none of that here, my friend, for you must always remember that, as Kings of the Realm, you and I are equals.” He began to walk away into the nothingness, beckoning Arius to follow.

“Am I to be cursed for all time, then?” Arius asked, wasting no time in getting straight to the point. “Is there no hope for me after all?” He clenched his fists, looking down at his gloved hands and cursing Tempest, not for the first time, though he himself was just as much to blame.

Daerist continued to walk, not even bothering to look back as he said “There is always hope, Arius. The real question is, are you willing to pay the price that ending your curse will ultimately entail?” As Arius attempted to speak, Daerist interrupted, turning at last to face the younger elf. “Think hard about this, for once the choice is made, there can be no going back.”

“And what, exactly, are my options then?” Arius asked, stopping in place and crossing his arms over his chest. He stared long and hard at the former King, his brilliant, iridescent eyes narrowed as he awaited Daerist’s response.

“I spoke of powers greater than us, Arius… Do you remember?” When the cursed elf nodded, Daerist continued. “Like you and the others, I was given a choice after the destruction of Galdria’s heart, though it differed slightly from your own. I was told that in exchange for the services I had rendered in ending the threat of Tempest and the others, I could finally be freed from the blade that had been my vessel for so long, to journey at last to the Blessed Isles.”

“Or?”

“Or I could stay with you, to guide you through what is likely to become a long and difficult journey.” Daerist paused for a moment, taking a few steps forward until he was standing directly before Arius, who remained unmoving. “With the blade that held me destroyed, I must, however, seek out another vessel.”

Arius suddenly knew with dread certainty what the silver haired elf spoke of, and he turned away, shaking his head. “Are you telling me that you want to dwell within me? You must be mad!”

“There is more, if you will but listen,” Daerist said, his voice tinged with anger. “How can you still seem the impetuous child after over a century of life?” He reached out, gripping Arius’ shoulder firmly and turning the pale skinned elf to face him. “I have been granted the power to finally rid you of that which has plagued you, my friend.”

Arius felt as if he’d been struck a blow, and his mind cried out that this must be a trick of some kind. At the same time, though, a calming warmth spread through his body, originating from the hand upon his shoulder. With this serenity came another feeling: a certainty that what Daerist said was indeed true…

“Pledge yourself to me Arius,” Daerist said softly, a faint smile upon his lips. “And with this pact, I promise you not only release from your curse, but a power unseen by any of our race since the Elder Days. I will give to you everything that I have, making you stronger than ever, and I will be with you always. Never again will you be alone, Arius…”

“And… And if I say no?” Arius asked, his voice trembling. “What then?”

Daerist shrugged, removing his hand from the younger elf’s shoulder. “You will still be given your second chance at life, but the curse will remain.” With that said, Daerist waited calmly for Arius’ decision.

Opposing emotions warred with the black-clad warlock, for as much as he wished to be rid of his terrible affliction, he remembered all too well what had happened the last time he’d agreed to pledge himself to another. It was, after all, the reason he was in this situation in the first place… But still, Daerist—though he had often manipulated and attempted to assert control over Arius—had never once lied to or deceived him. Not once…

Finally Arius spoke, praying that the day would never come when he regretted his decision:

“I accept, old friend…”

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His second chance, it seemed, had finally come.

Arius stood to his feet, turning his back to the flower as he made his way cautiously toward the others just as Febrien seemed to come to life. He paused, taking a moment to look around, his mind instinctively knowing this place, yet somehow unable to comprehend the thought of it. “This is…”

“Galdria, or rather, what’s left of it.”

Arius’ mind reeled, for though he knew that time in the outside world had continued to flow, to him it seemed as if only a moment or two had passed since he had, in this very spot, pierced the heart of his kingdom, destroying the Anti-Triumvirate and effectively dooming all of his companions to death. He spun in place, taking in every detail that he could in hopes of understanding exactly how much time had passed here.

Daerist saved him the trouble, saying “One thousand years, Arius.”

“A thousand years?” Arius repeated, his amethyst eyes wide with disbelief. “Then… Jeyld?” A sense of dread filled him as he awaited some kind of answer from his ethereal companion, but Daerist said nothing, merely filling Arius’ mind with a sense of uncertainty.

“All will be revealed in time, I would think,” Daerist replied, giving Arius a mental “nudge” in the direction of his stirring companions. “They awaken.”

Arius nodded, moving slowly toward the others, who were finally beginning to rise from the ground. Upon reaching Febrien, Hayato, and Brude, Arius cast a glance skyward, saying a silent prayer for friends no longer with them.

No, he corrected himself, a smile spreading across his pale face. They’re still with us… Gurl, Jaden… And most of all Jeyld, I will never forget you…

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AMdG

Febrien opened her eyes and gazed at her surroundings.

Though she lay in an unfamiliar meadow, she could not suppress a dawning sense of recognition. Sitting up and gazing at the basin walls rising far above her head, she suddenly remembered with dreadful clarity the series of fateful events that should have ended her life. Arius disappearing as he laid his hand upon the pedestal, Jeyld being swept away by a giant blue dragon, Imbri sinking into Brude’s chest… And what had happened after – an endless, shimmering void, with nothing but the voices and emotions of her friends surrounding her.

One thousand years… The elf looked about with a dawning sense of horror and wonder. Could it be?

Febrien stood and turned in a slow circle, absorbing the panorama of green that surrounded her on all sides. The sense of familiarity resolved itself into outright recognition. The magical explosion had decimated the original countryside, and the trees no longer grew in twisted, diseased shapes, but there was no mistaking their location. Fresh grass covered everything, and tall, ancient trees surrounded the large clearing. Wildflowers peeked from the lush grass, and water cascaded down the sides of the steep incline on three sides, its gentle roar as familiar and comforting to the ranger as a heartbeat. Cool streams ran from the waterfalls into a pond of unknowable depth, and birds could be heard singing upon the soft breeze.

To hear birdsong again in this sundered land… I never thought I would witness such an occurrence in my lifetime. A smile played across the elf’s features. In a normal lifetime, anyway…

Her mood quickly sobered as she remembered those who had been lost. Gurl, with her unwavering strength and devotion; Jaden, who had survived the Velvet Hand, only to perish less than two weeks later in the destruction of the Anti-Triumvirate; Alaya, who had finally known the peace and protection of family, if only for a short while; and Jeyld… Jeyld, whose small stature stood ever at odds with the size of his heart and the strength of his words. One companion’s loss tugged at her heart slightly stronger than the others, however.

Kiera…

Though few would have considered the mare to be anything more than a simple beast of burden, the dark horse and the ranger’s lives had long been intertwined. No other sense of loss hurt quite as much as reaching for the comfort of her friend’s mind and finding only emptiness. Stepping toward the forest’s edge, the dark haired woman gathered five wildflowers and carefully intertwined their trailing stems into a beautiful circlet. Turning, she gently set the wreath upon the water, giving it a gentle push. As it floated serenely toward the pond’s center, she said a silent goodbye to the fallen.

Farewell, my friends. You shall be remembered always, for without you, this beautiful land would not exist. All would have fallen into ruin, and all that was good would have been destroyed. I pray that you have finally found peace in your journeys. Know that we will never forget...

With this, Febrien turned her attention back to her remaining companions. While Hayato and Brude remained prone, Arius had awoken, and was now gazing in wonder at their surroundings. Smiling once more, the reborn ranger turned and opened her senses to the world, drinking in the energy emanating from the trees, the animals, and even the air itself. It was time to start anew.

A large (or at least taller than most people) metal suit of armor lied on the ground, away from the other occupants of the crater. It's eyes, which were simply white, gazed up at the sky. It's torso felt hollow, which should have been natural for a suit of armor, yet wasn't. It turned it's head, looking at the large hammer that sat on the ground beside the living construct. It then slowly stood up, ignoring the hammer for now, and gazed at it's surroundings. The head of this metal being looked down, gazing upon it's hands. If it could glare, it would, for it was angry. More specifically, HE was angry. "Dammit, Hayato... what have you gotten yourself into?"

Sometime between now and a millenia ago...

Hayato floated in the void, not having an actual body, though he still existed. Yet at the moment, he was seperated from everyone. What was the meaning of this? Where was he? Suddenly.... "HAYATO SAKASUKI!" shouted a booming voice, loud enough to cause anyone to jump. Hayato could not see a physical form, but sure enough, he heard it. "Who... who are you?" "Who I am is not what you should be worrying about. It is WHAT I am that should concern you! I am one of the many Gods you have declared blasphemy against!" Hayato knew what he had meant. Because of his luck within the last few years, from the death of his father, to the recent destruction of the already-ruined continent of Galdrai, Hayato cursed said luck. But it was at the battle in The City of All Names he had made his hatred of the gods known. "Yeah... what's your point? Why shouldn't I hate you guys? It's your fault my life sucks so bad!" "Our fault? OUR FAULT!?!?! You have no one to blame but yourself, you foolish mortal! It was you who lead to your father's demise!" "I... but..." "It was YOU who decided to join the Long Roads Adventuring Company in hopes of finding your father's killer, which lead you to run into de Galdri and constantly butt heads with him!" "Well, you see..." "And I'm pretty sure it was YOU who decided to get drunk off of alcohol and impregnated that poor half-orc!" "Oh, come on..." "And I'm fairly certain it was YOU who devised said techniqued which you claimed would be, and I quote, 'Powerful enough to bring down a god!' "

Hayato sighed. Before he started blaming the gods, he blamed himself for his short comings. Slipping in pools of blood, accidentally, embedding a shuriken into his allies, putting himself and/or his friends in danger, abandoning them... need he go on? The god's words pointed the blame straight back at Hayato. "If I had my way, mortal, I wouldn't allow you to return to the plain of the living! However, it had already been bestowed upon you, so I shall let you live... HOWEVER! For your sins against us and for the terrible actions you've made in life that have brought suffering to other's, I shall make your life miserable!" "W-what is it you intend to do to me?" "I won't spoil the surprise just yet... I'll let you find out on your own." With that, the divine entity laughed, it's voice slowly trailing off...

Today...

Hayato continued to look down at his hands, then his eyes wandered over the rest of his figure. He clenched his fists tight, growling abit. In addtion to his new form, he was forced to forget everything his father had ever taught him. His Flurry of Blows, his fathers fighting style, even the very technique he had used in the City of All Names. He glanced up, seeing his comrades, well, at least, he thought they were his comrades. Arius, though he was still a jerk, he was a sight for sore eyes. Febrian, who seemed to be the heart of the group. Her beauty had always brought a smile to his face. And Brude, someone who he still felt couldn't be trusted, though he wasn't there when he saw him turn on Arius. He was too busy running away from a fight while Jeyld, Febrian and even Jaden had stayed behind to fight off their foes. "So... this is my curse... so be it. I think I've earned it... Fumblefist strikes again." He reached down, grabbing his weapon and slung it over his shoulder, moving towards the others. He stopped, glancing around as a slight sound caught his attention. "Aw hell... guess our reunion will have to wait."

Brude's new form lay still on the grass face down. His head lay inches away from a pool few in all of Bolermos knew the depths of. Stirring, he lifted the swollen, but otherwise functioning, orb that was his head and caught a glimpse of his new racial features in the flat waters. A mirror image of what some would call an ugly beast looked back at him. He knew all that he was capable of in that moment. His first action was to take the form of that which was.

Not bad, a little pain but not bad. This is going to be fun...

Standing he slowly took in his surroundings. Forests? Rivers. One huge ass crater...wait were they in a volcano? With a shrug he checked his gear and started towards the others.

Bet I could get into a lot of trouble here...where ever here is...

A flash of weapons from the far side of the clearing caught his eyes as he watched quite a few goblins step out from the forest. In the center of them was the damn suspicious elf.

Always alone and in trouble...could he just die already?

He may have been just thinking...though he could also have been beseaching a God...

The goblins attacked.

Arius was caught off guard for a moment, a mistake that almost proved fatal. He leapt aside as a serrated goblin blade cut through the air where he’d been standing barely a second before. Quickly, remaining wary of the enemies still at his back, Arius crouched, pulling his longsword from the sheath on his back. In a single fluid motion the blade came free, arcing forward to cleave through the torso of the goblin who had attacked him. He grunted slightly as the pulled the sword free, turning in a fast circle, forcing the remaining goblins back.

This is not going to work, he thought, readying the heavy blade before him. This longsword is not my idea of a weapon at all… Despite that fact, Arius picked a target, lunging forward to engage the small creature as an expertly-thrown javelin coursed by him, missing by a mere fraction of an inch. Casting a quick glance over his shoulder, the fey warlock saw his companions rushing to his aid, readying their weapons.

He also saw Hayato, now trapped within the body of a warforged, trip and fall face first into the river.

“Some things never change, eh?” Daerist spoke within Arius’ mind, his words tinged with humor.

“Not now!” the black-clad elf replied, taking a shallow cut along his ribs as he overextended himself with the unfamiliar weapon. The goblin then pressed his advantage, crying out in a harsh language as he took another swing at Arius, who deflected the blow at the last minute. Several of the goblins, sensing or hearing the approach of Arius’ allies, broke away, moving toward the incoming adventurers. Despite this fact, the formerly-cursed warrior still found himself hard pressed with the few goblins who had remained to finish him off.

The sounds of combat erupted from behind, and Arius stole another glance rearward, watching as Brude and Febrien faced off against a handful of the wicked creatures. Hayato remained prone in the river, though he was attempting to regain his footing. Returning his attention to his own battle, Arius gasped as he saw a goblin spear thrusting straight toward his face.

“Arius, now!” cried out Daerist, his mental voice sending a jolt of pain through Arius’ mind.

Without thinking, Arius willed his body vanish, traveling at the speed of light to a spot behind him, between the attacking goblins and his companions. He reappeared just in time to watch the spear that had almost killed him stick into the ground just behind where he’d been standing. The goblins with whom he’d been engaged halted, their hideous faces contorted with expressions ranging from fear to outright confusion. Arius grinned.

“Take them, now!” Daerist’s voice echoed within his mind, filled with relief at having avoided that last nearly fatal attack.

Arius thrust his empty left had forward, gathering energy for an eldritch blast. When the arcane power manifested itself within his palm, the dark-haired elf’s eyes widened in shock, for though this energy was similar to the eldritch blast that he’d wielded before, it was also distinctly different. Pushing this sudden realization aside, Arius let fly with the blast, taking the nearest goblin in the back, dropping him before he even had a chance to react.

Daerist chuckled. “So, how did it feel, Arius? You must remember, your power now springs from a much different source than before. The energy you wield now is far more potent—and far less sinister—than what you’re used to.” As Arius prepared a second blast, the ancient King of Galdria spoke again. “And keep in mind that you also have other new abilities as well…”

The group of goblins suddenly spun around, realizing finally that their opponent was now behind them. They growled, readying their weapons and advancing slowly, now understanding that their adversary was one not to be taken lightly. However, one particularly impatient goblin screeched, leaping forward in an attempt to take Arius’ head from his shoulders.

The elf merely glared, taking a single step forward as time seemed to slow down around him. He clenched his fist, remembering all of the sorrow and fear that had once possessed and driven him. Gritting his teeth, Arius thrust his hand forward, channeling all of that anger and wrathful power into a single, invisible wave of force. The goblin stopped in midair as Arius’ curse struck him, filling him with terror, weakening his body and making him more susceptible to the warlock’s attacks. One of those attacks, a fiery purple eldritch blast, followed soon after.

As the cursed goblin exploded into a cloud of ash and energy, Febrien and Brude dispatched their own enemies and rushed to Arius’ side. Sensing that his two allies would be better able to handle the remaining goblins at close range, Arius backed away, preparing to support them from a distance. He looked back over his shoulder, smiling slightly as he saw a dripping wet Hayato approaching, a mighty war hammer held ready in his hands.

At that very moment, more goblins appeared, charging from the surrounding forest.

“Oh my,” Daerist said dryly within Arius’ mind. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if we were brought back after all that time simply to find ourselves massacred by creatures such as these?”

“Enough,” Arius growled, momentarily regretting his decision to allow the elven spirit to dwell within him. Sheathing his longsword, the black-clad warlock called upon the ancient fey powers that were now his to control, preparing to once again unleash them upon his enemies. At that very moment, something unexpected happened.

A flash of fire and an explosion of heat erupted seemingly from within the goblins’ ranks, kicking up a cloud of dust and debris and sending several of the monsters screaming into the air. The flames then spread quickly outward as the creatures who had remained relatively unharmed attempted to flee. Arius narrowed his eyes to see beyond the conflagration, making out a form approaching slowly from behind the goblins. The flames died down, and Arius gasped as he took in the appearance of the newly arrived stranger.

A tiefling! He turned his attention instantly to the demonic-looking creature, prepared to unleash a savage discharge of eldritch power.

“Wait, Arius,” Daerist warned. “He just attacked those goblins, remember? Don’t be so hasty to eliminate him, lest be turn out to be an ally.” Arius, of course, was forced to agree.

He once again turned to the attacking goblins, ready to aid his companions in any way. Before he had a chance to even fire off a single shot, though, the sounds of a struggle broke out behind him, coming from the direction that Hayato had been approaching from. He sighed and shook his head, wondering at his horrid luck.

“I guess I’d better help him out,” he said, turning to face the lumbering warforged.

“That may not be necessary, my friend…”

Arius’ jaw dropped, and he could only nod in agreement. Fighting beside Hayato—aiding the former monk in repelling the goblins—was a heavily armored creature the likes of which neither Arius nor Daerist had ever seen. It stood at least seven feet tall, was covered in scales, and looked like nothing so much as a dragon given humanoid form. Shaking off his momentary shock, Arius once again focused on the battle at hand, picking a target and lashing out with everything at his disposal.

Then, almost as quickly as it had begun, the battle was over.

Arius spun, seeking out another opponent as sweat ran down his face, mixing with the blood from several small cuts. His legs trembled from exhaustion as the adrenaline that had been pumping through his system dwindled. A cool breeze blew through the crater, carrying with it the scent of salt water mixed with blood and death. A quiet calm descended, seeming strangely out of place considering the terrible struggle that had just taken place.

Febrien and Brude came to stand beside Arius, both of them obviously exhausted, though they seemed to be in fairly good shape. Arius flashed a lopsided smile at Brude, who had taken on the shape of a nondescript human rather than his usual form. Looking past his doppelganger ally, Arius locked gazes with the approaching tiefling. At the same moment, Hayato arrived, walking casually beside the giant man-dragon.

He’s far too trusting…

“No,” Daerist said with the mental equivalent of a sigh, “you are just far too suspicious…”

Ignoring the former sword, Arius crossed his arms over his chest, wincing slightly as he brushed the cut along his side. His elation at finally being reborn had just taken a serious hit, and he found himself instead filled with a sudden sense of panic. He and his comrades had just spent a thousand years away from Bolermos, only to return and find the world greatly changed. Everything he knew, everything that he had been comfortable with was gone, and that realization frightened him. A calming sensation flooded through his body as Daerist worked his influence upon the formerly-cursed elf.

“Fear not, Arius,” he said softly. “Though the world has changed, I have no doubt that you will find your place in it. We all will…”

Arius could only nod, and pray that his constant companion was right.

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That's the end of that one, thanks for making it a great story everyone!

AMdG