The Council's Decision

Silence filled the room, save the creak of the old wooden chairs. The chairs were simple. But they were the only simple ornament in the room. The table was crafted from mythril, the chandelier gold and diamond. The walls were covered in intricate elven designs and paintings. Each a gift of highest value from each race joined together at the table. The room was occupied maybe once every few decades and there was an eerie hollow feeling about the it. That is not to say the room was neglected, everything shined to perfection. The walls just spoke hollow thought. The chair had survived the thousands of years the Council ruled. Each chair at the table was occupied, except one. A highlighted blemish on the face of perfection. And the Council of hooded figures paid great heed.

The first hooded figure spoke, his body small but his voice enough to shake this great hall. "Your mageling is absent, Aarivan. The boy you spoke so very fond of." Stroking his beard, the only thing visible through his hood. Just then, the door swung open.

Every hood turned in the direction of the door.
There stood an eladrin. His hood was up, yet a golden braid fell into view as he strode into the room and plopped himself into a chair.
They were still staring.
“We are thrilled you could fit us into your schedule, Arannis.”, Aarivan harshly whispered to the eladrin. Arannis gave a small apologetic smile that looked more akin to a grimace.

The small hooded figure with the booming voice began to speak again.
“Now that all are present, we may begin. Sylaura?”
With that another figure rose to speak. She had finely manicured fingernails that contrasted with the shriveled, leathery appearance of her hands. She was a lich. Arannis could feel her aura of dread from where he sat on the other end of the table from her. He wondered how the members who sat next to her could stand it. Probably some kind of abjuration. For that matter, how could they stand the smell of her rotting body?
Arannis’s musings were brought to an end as the lichess began to speak. Her voice had a hollow, yet oddly musical, sound to it.
“We are all accomplished mages of different styles and schools.” she began, “We are powerful. Why should we allow the retched throng of commoners and greedy kings to continue destroying all we hold dear to our hearts.” one of the councilmen scoffed at the idea of the lich holding anything dear, or having a heart for that matter.
She continued, “I propose we vanquish the petty monarchies of this land and establish this council to rule in its stead. We shall decimate the common filth and raise this nation one of arcanists!”

“Who says aye?”, the small man with the bellowing voice asked. Nine hands rose, and nine heads turned to look at the one hand that was not raised.
Arannis was dumbfounded! Destroy an entire nation? What kind of group had he joined?
Arannis stood and said, “I cannot in good judgment damn all of those for the schemes of this council.”
Other members also stood, but they were speaking the words to spells. When Arannis realized this he used his innate power and fazed out of reality for a second and reappeared in the hallway outside the chamber the council currently occupied. There was the boom of a thunder and a fizzling sound from the room. They had tried to kill him. When a commotion began to stir, he knew it was time to leave.
He began to cast his own spell. When he completed the spell, he was transported to his tower.
Arannis began packing his magically lightened and roomier bag for a trip. Then he went outside and began to chant while walking the circumference of his tower. When he was complete the small, elegantly carved tower began to slowly fade away. He had sent his home back to the feywild. There his accumulated knowledge would be safe, or so he hoped.

With that he began casting his teleportation spell again, and was gone. Leaving only a circle of dirt in the clearing where his tower had been standing for years.

Aarivan sat still. In fact, he was the only council member still sitting. His wits were by no means about him. What had just happened? How had it happened so fast? And where had Arranis gone? He had chose the pupil who had reminded him the most of himself to join his council and uphold his virtues...but he had failed his expectations. Still, having know Arranis' father, he had known the eladrin since his youth. A head hunt over a disagreement seemed rash. Aarivan sat still. Very confused. But he was the only one confused. The 8 hooded figures realized one thing. Arranis knew their scheme, and for that he must die.

"I had heard about a crazed eldrin going from town to town spouting something about some cleansing and getting laughed out of every court in the land. He must have been starving to come into this tavern. Even without hearing its reputation it looked like the dying side of an undead's backside. Now when he came in he stood out like a dwarf at a Halfling party, or was it a Halfling at a dwarf party it doesn’t matter he looked silly. Anyway he took a seat at the bar and ordered wine and bread. What he got was bread and a queer look from the barkeep. When it came to paying he took from a pocket within his cloak an odd purple crystal. Before the barkeep could inspect it a large ruffian who was six maybe six and a half feet tall, he was big. He took it and said something along the lines of If you gimme all of these I will make sure you get out of here alive. in a pretty vague tone but apparently it was threatening because the color just drained from this kids face. He looked as though he was about to cry as soon as this seven foot tall vagabond came up to him. In a trembling voice he asked to be left alone but the twelve nine foot half-orc just laughed and repeated his offer. Looking around with pleading eyes I finally gave in. I hate seeing people cry. Its gross. So I said "Maybe if someone promised me their loaf of bread I might do them a favor." Everyone looked at me with looks of awe or fear. This is only natural. I took the incredulous look of the eldrin as an "I will give you my bread and my eternal friendship." So I walked up to the twelve foot giant spawn and pointed my finger right between his eyes and said "Now prepare to feel the sting of my ire you lout." Before he could take it all in he took a swipe at my face and the brawl began jumping up to the rafters I leaped from beam to beam nimbly dodging all the debris he was chunking at me finally I swung down and landed a kick right in the 23 and a quarter foot abomination right in the nose with a sickening crack. Taking a bow and my loaf of bread the barbarian rose and said you will rue the day you messed with the Moons Eye clan. Which incidentally the tavern was full of. The eldrin truly inspired by my actions asks for my name. Addressing the whole tavern of full blooded orc giant hybrids I said "Who am I? I am the one who crosses from plane to plane through the shadows. World renowned acrobatic hand for hire and lowest kill count of the thieves guild which I also had the shortest membership. Why I hold the record for most Hobbits fainted. The death defying most exciting Wilcome Gamwich. The list would have been longer but having so many titles it’s hard to remember them all. However counting the numbers of wyvern riding bandits I decided that a tactical retreat was in order so gathering my new friend we fled out the window which in retrospect was a little too high for the two of us to jump through safely. Fortunately for my new companion he had some tricks of his own and we floated to safety. Now we are walking down through old alley ways avoiding further contact with the golden worm taming-"
"Shut Up" cried Arranis "look I was there you don't have to tell me also the story you’re telling is getting more and more fabricated as you speak. There were only six men in the tavern and none above six four." He looked around the corner before he sighed a breath of relief. "However as it stands I’m glad you came to my rescue Wilcome and I am glad you are accompanying me on my quest to prevent the council’s decision"
"No problem friend" I cheerily replied" what to next on the itinerary"
"We will have to take care of this Moons Eye Clan if we ever hope of getting out of here. They have their hand in everything."
And so off we went to discover the hideout of the most infamous gang in town noted for their ruthless tactics and "show no mercy attitude."
Today was a good day to make friends.

It was funny the way word gets around town today. I heard the story of a mage and a rogue from the tavern owner. But I also heard the story of a firebreathing thief more than twice the size of any troll defeating some 20 men. This somehow seemed unlikely. Also the account of a half man half alligator half ape with jaw snapping ferocity, terrorizing the local tavern, seemed slightly...exaggerated to say the least. To many halves for my taste, anyways.

From the rooftops I watched these two men travel, neither to menacing or frightening. The pair was odd, one seemed stiff and uncomfortable while the other was babbling about this and that. As if one considered themselves strangers and the other brothers. My finger slipped through the ring of a throwing knife and traced the smooth metal before abandoning the idea. These two dismantled six of the gang's grunts without a scratch. With the Moon's Eye gone I would be the only mercenary worth hire. Maybe these strangers could be of some use.

As I suspected, the thugs were both prideful and stupid. What a wonderful combination.
The strange man named Welcome and I crouched an alley across the street from the gang’s hideout. I could tell it was their hideout because they had written on the wall in red paint “MOON’S EYE”.
“We are here.” I whispered, not looking at the tattooed and pierced Shadar Kai who acted as if I had known him for years. Not even human years. MY years. “We are in need of a plan. Perhaps we can sneak in through the back door, I have a spell that will render us invis-” but when I turned around, he was gone.
“Corellon, grant me patience, if I ask for strength I will strangle that man.”
I fished in my cloak and pulled out an eyelash incased in gum and becane to cast an invisibility spell.
Now to sneak in the back door...

The large bearded man bellowed from behind his frothy mustache. His freshly brewed beer in one hand and a turkey leg in the other. Born Juacove Priddy and son of a wealthy bank owner, he was teased as a child for his...less than masculine name. In order to, dare I say it, over compensate he simply burned the children's houses down. When his parents reprehended him he continued to burn his own house down. Once a light-weight thief of the rooftops, the man grew larger as his outreach in the town's power did. Using the money earned from the bank he bribed every office holding member of the town. He was now acting mayor, sheriff, and judge.

Through a mouthful he laughed out, "You destroy my tavern, injure my men, and now you break into my home? Do you have no decency? Here I play as a god but I can very well play as a dev--!" Wilcome already had a fistful of his beard in hand and proceeded to continually slam his head into the table he sat behind. Slow and stupid, the guards began to react.

"Boy that guy talks alot" thought Wilcome with a hint of hypocracy. With the rest of the guards coming to beat the beer out of him like his father used to say. He wondered where his new brother went as he dodged a club blow.

The first thing Arannis noticed when he walked in through the unlocked back door was that the house these thugs used was disgustingly filthy, he was afraid that if he brushed against anything, his clothes would begin to rot.
The second thing he noticed were the fifteen gang members that were surrounding the one named Wilcome. Arannis couldn’t see if he was alright or not.
He grabbed his holy symbol and hurriedly began a prayer. When he was done he reached out and grabbed an empty beer mug on the table next to him.
Complete and utter darkness sprang into being around the mug and began to quickly radiate outward. Arannis tossed the cup into the throng of hoodlums and grinned when they began shouting inside the now large sphere of darkness.
That should help Wicome out, he thought.
Arannis felt something splash over him turned to see the large man who had tried to rob him earlier. Wilcome certainly hadn’t exaggerated breaking the fellow’s nose. Hate burned in his eyes as he advanced with his club raised for a blow.
Arannis blinked. Did this thug poses a talisman that allowed him to see through his illusion? Arannis looked down to make sure he was in fact still invisible, then grimaced. He was standing in a puddle. The thug saw his footprints in the puddle of beer and then splashed some over the mage. Clever.
Arannis knew he couldn't cast a spell before the ruffian reached him. So he drew one of his wands and leveled it at his attacker. It was the darkwood wand, he could feel the tiny runes.
The thug growled and charged Arannis.
“Jhondrol”
Lightning shot from the tip of the wand and slammed into the thug's chest. The bolt picked him off his feet and flung him into a wall were he twitched for a small while then lay still. Arannis was not sure if the man was still alive or not, but figured him to be out of the fight either way. He turned around and saw three more men staring directly at him. Arannis' attack had rendered him visible again.
he grabbed his holy symbol and began chanting a prayer.

I wanted to stay out of the fight, I really did, but Ol' Cappy had another idea for me.
"Ascarer! Get your ass out there!" He bellowed.
He always bellows. These lowlife thugs sort were never ones for inside voices. Drawing my swords I charged the strange looking, oddly named, tattooed baboon of a man. My swords felt light in my hands and I could almost hear music in the air. Every swing a grand crescendo. My swords was what I conducted battle with, and as a conductor loves his music, I love mine.

Being raised by Hobbits had taught him many things. Things like how much liquid a tiny body can take before it has to expel it or what tabacco was the best just by looking at it or what season was the best for mushrooms. However there were somethings that came to him by instinct. Particularly who was going to give him the best run for his money. Now facing a rabble of drunkards is no easy feat it certainly wasnt hard.Turning his head he saw through the fray a figure advancing towards him duel swords lusting for battle. The kind of lust Wilcome desired. He licked his lips dodged over one ruffian into a spring roll to stand right infront of his potential death...

The man challenged him? Well, this was unexpected. I lifted my swords and spun, feeling air whirl around me, my arms out and my swords pointed, mimicking a fan. An easy maneuver to escape, but it was worth testing this guy's competence in battle.

Seeing as how his opponent had accepted his challenge by swinging his swords in a way befitting a machine not yet to be invented prompted Wilcome to assume this guy was a flashy amateur but he knew better than that. The way his muscles were formed and the intricacies in which his fingers moved. This was a test. However Wilcome had never held back like this before so he came full of moxy. Hooking a chair with his leg he catapulted it at his opposition twirled and went for the other side...

Ascarer was impressed, the kid wasn't worthless after all. Flipping under the chair and landing on the ground softly, I braced for impact. My enemy had my back, I knew...the proper counter was in order.

Well the chair had missed to be expected. It was worth a shot but now he had the perfect chance to strike. Im sure he wont miss his ear to much..

The three thugs that had noticed Arannis were incapacitated. Two of them had received blows to the head from his shimmering war hammer that was bobbing in the air in front of him. The third one was completely paralyzed due to a second prayer Arannis had cast.
Arannis saw Wilcome engage a man who was spinning with his swords outstretched. This guy looks like he knows what he is going, he thought to himself, I shall dispatch of the rest of these hooligans.
Arannis reached into his cloak and procured a bit of spider web, which he used to trace a mystic symbol in the air.
When the spell was completed, thick white ropes of spiderwebbing began to materialize around the edges of the darkness sphere. He couldn't see inside but he could guess what was happening. Just to be sure, he dismissed the darkness. Most of the men were completely enmeshed in a thick column of spiderweb. One, however was not.
Arannis set his magicked up hammer on a course for the lone man and turned his attention to the fight between his new companion and the dual wielding man.

It seemed apparent this man was an idiot. Without realizing it, he had said aloud, "I hope he won't miss his ear!" As the Shadar Kai lunged for my head i tilted it slightly, his arm coming over my shoulder. I grabbed his arm and pulled all my strength down, arching my back.

Now flying through the air Wilcome decided this miscalculation needed a solution. So reaching into the inner recesses of his being he came into contact with “The Darkness.” He was a little kid when he gave it the name and it stuck no matter how much he wanted to call it something more awesome. But by reaching The Darkness he enveloped himself in it. It’s cool tendrils enveloping his being calling him to the Raven Queen to join her ranks into eternal glory. But Wilcome resisted. He had more to do. “Maybe next time” he whispered at the gates of the afterlife. Then a laugh shot out of his lips “Yea right” and bounded back towards the light.

Arannis watched as Wilcome was sent careening through the air. The man with the two swords was strong!
When Wilcome began the landing phase of his short flight he was engulfed by shadow, then disappeared.
Arannis gasped. How had he done that? But more importantly, was he coming back?
The mage flexed his fingers and extended his arms to begin a spell. He felt something punch his arm. He looked at it and saw a crossbow bolt stuck in his forearm. Blood already beginning to soak the sleeve of his robe.
Pain blossomed from the wound and Arannis screamed. He turned and saw the man his hammer was supposed to take care of was still conscious and holding a crossbow, and the magicked up hammer was gone.
Arannis swore under his breath. He should have realized his hammer hadn’t had enough time to reach the man.
As the man fumbled to re load his crossbow Arannis blinked out of existence and re appeared directly in front of the man. He was much taller than the mage, but he still looked afraid. Arannis clamped his uninjured hand on the man’s shoulder and spoke a quick mystical phrase. The man’s hair stood on end and his muscles all constricted at once. The spell only lasted a few seconds, when it was expired the man collapsed to the floor his clothing slightly smoking.
That was for ruining my robe, Arannis thought bitterly.
He needed someone to remove the bolt lodged in his arm. And Wilcome was still nowhere to be found.
The two sworded man had turned his attention to Arannis.
The mage swore again.

It's a rarity that I toss people into their own shadows, like a hole in a frozen lake. But apparently this was one of those shining new experiences people talk about. Whatever. Let's assume I just threw that man and he burst into infinity. Well then I don't have much to worry about. Okay, not likely. Maybe he ran away. Still, not much to worry about there either. Yet that still seemed unlikely. That man was having to much damn fun with this.

"Hey," I said in almost a whisper as I turned to the ever paling elf. Was he afraid? Or simply bleeding out?
"What happened to Sunshine?"

I heard chattering from behind the desk. The Captain was scared. And respectfully so. One man just destroyed the majority of the men in the room while the other kept my hands full. He had never seen anyone match my strength. Luckily I am not as ignorant as the fat man. Thinking you are the best usually gets you killed.

Arannis’s arm was throbbing. Blood was starting to drip from his voluminous sleeve to the floor.

“Hey”, the hooded man with the swords said in a harsh whisper, “What happened to sunshine?”
Arannis looked at the man and "calmly" replied, “How in the abyss should I know?! I did not know he could do that!”

With that, he pointed at the man and cast a cantrip that sent a blue-white beam streaking toward him.

"YAHOO" Wilcome Shouted as he phased back into the higher realm. "FFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUU-" he shouted as he collided with a blue white beam extending from the mages finger.

Convenient.

Thrusting my sword towards the newly blasted baboon, I stopped just short of his throat. I lightly traced around his adams apple, maybe reminding the imbecile that this wasn't a game. He smiled anyways.

Looping my finger through the ring of my throwing knife I tossed it into the hood of the elf, pinning him to the wall.
"Do not be fooled, for you do not strike me as one." My voice remained ever so even. "I did not miss."

Juacove stood up at these words. He wasn't a friend to mercy, especially at his life's expense.
"What are you waiting for! KILL THEM!" He bellowed. "KILL THE---"
He would have continued if there wasn't a knife in his throat. Knifes have always had a way of shutting him up.

"Now, I have no obligation to kill you two," my voice caring the knife's edge, "if you move along. You see, business is...flourishing."

Arannis couldn't reach the knife. It was over the shoulder of his hurt arm and the fabric of his cloak prevented him from twisting enough to grab it with his good arm. So he sighed and stood against the wall
“Do you mean for us to leave now?” Arannis asked the hooded man. Then he turned to Wilcome and said “I would be much obliged if you took this bolt out of my arm and got me off of this cursed wall."
Corellon only knows how badly the grime on the wall is soiling my cloak, he thought to himself.

"That won't do at all, I suppose." I muttered with every ounce of hospitality I could muster. "I live just outside of the town, I have room in my...home for you."

I tripped over the word home and found that I couldn't properly recover from the stumble. I walked over to the robed man and withdrew my knife from his cloak. I eyed his arm carefully, judging whether it would just be better to push the bolt through, ultimately deciding to rip it out. The tattooed man seemed to amused by this whole fiasco to have moved yet. Entertainment like this apparently didn't come around much.

"Travelers, what are your names?" I asked. These men had an odd aura about them. I was suddenly very curious of their involvement in this town.