Tbis is a story I starrted for a friend... died for some reason... don't quite know why...

 

 Part 1: Sanity Chapter 1: Quest for the Palidin...

 

The sounds of night surrounded the old tavern. It was about this time of night where everything got quiet. The patrons had all gone home, and the only ones who were left was the barkeep, Val, and the last of a long forgotten order, the self proclaimed "lawman" of Drakenguard, the Palidin. He had upheld the rules of Nutrality, and had become one of the chief figures of the Daedlands, respected by all and revered by many. But ut was times like this that got to him, that made him wonder about what he had done with his life...

 

"God Val, what have I been doing all these years. I have upheld Nutrality throughout the realms, and brought my order to greatness. All these years... All the good I have done... It means nothing now. I look and can't help but wonder, 'am I the last of my kind? The last true protector?'. Every day I sit and wonder, is there anything that I will be remembered for?"

 

"You should be proud! You have done more with your life than I have. You have seen empires rise and fall. You were at the start of one of the most fluential orders in all the realms..." Val tried to reasure him.

 

"And what does it all mean? A footnote in some sages handbook! Face it Val. I am old. I can't do anything I used to. I'm as good as dead." The Palidin rebuked.

 

"Tell you what. I have a idea of what may help you be remembered. It's risky, but it just might work..."

---

Marcus shifted uncomfortably. He had been waiting here for a long time, stuck in this tiny room with three other adventurers he had never met before. They all seemed uneasy, as according to Val, this was a subject of utmost secrecy. It was almost as if he wanted to weed out the unmotivated. But, Marcus knew he could never pass up the reward. Five hundred adventurers coin, all gold! He had never seen that much tresure in his life, much less paid from one quest. But it also had him woried. A reward that big usualy involved fighting a dragon or something, which was something he was not prepared to do.

 

Then again, with five hundred adventurers coin, he could buy his own plot of farmland in the east, and start himself a small farm. This thought amused him, and bounced around in his mind untill the door opened.

 

Val stepped in from the open hallway and took a seat at the head of the table, making sure the door was locked first. He then examined all tof the adventurers one by one. Minutes ticked by. Finaly, one of the adventurers, a ranger, piped up. "So why are we all here? What is the point of this waiting?"

Val sighed. "I have a task that requires the upmost secrecy. As you have probably noticed, the Palidin is not here. Noware in the tavern to be found. That is the problem. He is missing. I have a few suggestions of where he went, but it is up to you, if you accept, to find him. That is what I require you to do.

 

However, do not tell anyone of his disapearence, for I have enemis of my own to contend with. Is there any problem?" All the other adventurers nodded no, and Marcus did the same.

 

"Very well. There are five possible places he could have gone, three he has supposably been sited at. There is a Cave to the south he might have gone, which is supposed to be a tomb for his order. The next place he could have gone is North, to the Frozen Forest, to view one of the last temples of his people. He may have gone east, to seek the palidinic Order of the White Swan. He also may have gone west to seek help from the Wizards of the West. The last, and most possible action he could have taken is to go West to the Dragon Methestialo himself, which is one I fear. I ask you, please find him. Now, would you please tell me where you are going."

 

Chapter 2:Gates into noware...

 

Marcus thought about it for a minute. There was a saying that palidins stick with thier own, and it could be possible that he had gone to the west. The only problem was that there was turmoil in the west. The Great War had brought many revolts against the goverment, and many citizens had taken thier frustrations out on the order, as in the capital where a huge mob had forced the order down into the catacoms of the city, where it was said that the order held a standoff for fifteen days before thier defences were finaly broke, and only a few survived the massacare that ensued.

 

The order was still around in the lesser cities, but it was fairly small. Not much of the original temples remained, so if the Palidin had hoped to do some good, now would be the best time.

 

"I will go east." Marcus told Val, and for a minute it looked like there was a hint of regret in Val's eyes, but it was gone in an instant. "Yes, yes, here are your papers. This should get you past the border, though I can't garuntee much beyond. They say packs of demons still roam the land. I would be utmost careful if I were you. You may leave now. Come find me once you return." Val said, and started talking to the lanky ranger on the other side of the table.

 

Marcus opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. One of the other adventurers, Causius, was already standing outside in the hall, and was chatting with one of the serving girls from the tavern. She saw Marcus and immediatly skittered off back to the tavern. Causius looked over his sholder and spotted Marcus, and immediatly started up conversation.

 

"So, where are you headed to? I'm going north, see if the oversized cleric is up there. Have you seen the papers yet? Look absolutly fine to me. Not an error on them." Causius rambled. Marcus sighed. "Excuse me. I have buisness to attend to." he said at once and took off down the hall. Causius gave him a strange look and started out to the main hall to buy some drinks.

 

Marcus walked down to the middle door in the hall and opened it. Entering the room, he closed it securely behind him. "Well, it's about bloody time!" Someone said.

 

Marcus slowly weeled around to find his companion, Mordin, seated at the table. Mordin was a halfling, about three feet tall at his highest, with brown skin and deep blue eyes. His hair was black and cut oddly, giving him sort of an unordered look. He was sitting down at the tabble printing some sort of arcane gobledygook with a silver inkwell pen. It appeared to not have fone well because he had smuges of ink all over his hands and arms.

 

"Do we have the job or not?" Mordin asked. "Yes, we have it. Under one condition, though. You keep your hands in your pockets, and ot of others... um... pockets." Mordin clapped his hands in glee. Marcus's eyes narrowed as he spoke. "Don't mess this one up. We are dealing with the Order. You know they don't take kindly to mages. So keep your mouth shut. Let me handle the talking." "Yes your all mighty godliness..." Mordin muttered as he went back to printing.

 

Marcus was tall for a human, being about six feet tall, and looking completely abnormal standing beside Mordin. He had grown up around the traders of the midlands, so had learned at an early age to hunt and live in the desert. When he was a teen he had enlisted in the Desert Guard, a group of fiighters that protected caravans from the perils of the desert. He had never really been satisfied working there, so after five years he quit.

 

After a year of aimlessly wandering, he came across Mordin, half dead and dehydrated. Mordin had nursed him back to health and started a adventuring carer. Mordin called himself a Shamen, but to Marcus his magic seemed to have no order, just improvization. Also, most shamens Marcus knew of were half mad Mordin was noware near...

 

And now this. After a year and a half of adventuring finaly the work of a lifetime. Something that could set a person for life. Five hundred gold! They had seen the offer in the add, but now it finally struck him. They could do anything they wanted! That farm bopped around some more in his mind untill he finally wanted to go to bed. "Mordin, we leave first thing tommorow. Remember to sleep." The only response he got was a grumble.

 

---

They left early that morning, going from Drakenguard down to the pass in the south. It would take approxamately five days, so they had some time to spare. About halfway through the second day Mordin took to wistleing...

 

Whistle

 

"Mordin, stop it."

 

Whistle

 

"Mordin, please stop it."

 

Whistle

 

"Mordin, stop!"

 

Whistle

 

This carried on to the second day, where Mordin went from wistleing, to singing. This caused Marcus to get extremely mad and think up new curses. The third day was mostly quiet. The forth day Mordin took to humming. This was not as anoying as the wistling, but was pretty near. By noon the fifth day they reached the pass.

 

"And then I suuunnnng, more than..."

 

"Mordin, I am begging you, please stop. That is very annoying."

 

Silence...

 

Whistle

 

They were comming up to the gates that blocked the pass. a lone guard was standing outside the gates. As they aproched, he spoke. "Good evening, can I see your papers." He said. Reaching into his backpack, Marcus managed to pull them out. "Thank you. I will just take these to my superior to verify. That is, If you don't have any objections."

 

Chapter 3:Into the arms of the guard...

 

"Papers please..."The guard asked, watching Marcus closely. It almost seemed as if he was watching a little too closely...

 

"I would like to speak to your superior." Marcus stated.

 

The guard blinked for a second, as if he was not quite sure of what to do next. He shifted uneasily from foot to foot, before looking Marcus in the eye. "You may not want to do that right now..." the guard trailed off.

 

"Please, just get your superior officer so we can get this staitened out." Marcus reasoned.

 

From the guard's facial expressions, it was evident that a battle was going on inside his head. It was almost as if this may cause a bigger disturbance than Marcus had previously envisioned. Then, just as it started, the expressions stopped. It was evident that one side had won. The guard walked up to the gate and shouted up at the sentery on the top. "Tha'll livle lellt shei selli!"

 

There was a commotion from inside the tower. The souds of orders being barked echoed through the pass. There was a grinding sound and the gates slowly ground open, revealing a man dressed in full plate mail with a long red cape attached right at the neckline. It was evident that this was someone of high office...

 

"Is there a problem?" He asked, with a high irritated voice.

 

"Guard Kassavac. More problems. You are dismissed. I don't want to see you around this gatehouse, or any other malita buildings. Have I made myself clear!"

 

Kassavac shrunk back, letting out a faint "Yes sir."

 

"Papers." The official asked, grabbing them from Marcuses hands. He briefly skimmed through them and handed them back. "You may pass. Kassavac, as your last duty, see them out. Don't bother coming back." he said as he stormmed through the gated back inside. Marcus and Mordin followed, led by Kassavec.

 

There was silence untill they reached the other side of the gates. Once they were there, Kassevec piped up with a rather odd deal.

 

"Seeing as how you got me dismissed, from forced duty none the less, I have a way you can make up for it. Let me journy with you. I have no family ties, nothing holding me down anymore. At least let me do some good. I can guide you through the forests if nothing else." Kassavec pleaded

 

Chapter 4:Enter the Mage...

 

To the west, a strange rumbling filled the pass. Excited shouts flittered down from the walls of the Gatehouse, and the sound of armor clanking filled the air. The shouts continued in an unknown language, and there was evident sounds of battle from the other side.

 

The fear on Kassavec's face was evident. Without an answer from Marcus, he turned and fled down the valley. Without looking, he almost bumped into an old man walking up towards the gatehouse.

 

"Watch your step, human, or it will be your last..."

 

Kassavec froze for a moment, and then continued his panicked run towards the forest. The old man laughed to himself in a dry cackle, and then continued up into the pass.

 

Marcus observed the old man as he approached. His age was evident by the lines on his face. They seemed to arch through, like valleys and mountains on a barren waste. In his right hand he carried a gnarled wooden staff, which was topped by a piece of crystal, that seemed to shimmer blue. He wore robes of a high office, but they were too mud stained and tattered to tell where from. His left arm ended in a stump, the scarring still pink from where it had been removed, although it was obvious this was not a new injury. As the man approached, his eyes met marcus's. They were bright blue, and seemed to radiate a inner life.

 

"Sir mage..." Marcus addressed.

 

"That is Archmage to you, young adventurer..." The old man parried.

 

"Sir Archmage, greetings. I am Marcus, a skilled adventurer of no little reputation..." Marcus continued.

 

"Funny, I haven't heard of you." The old man commented.

 

This comment caught marcus off guard. all he could do is stare for a moment as the old man chuckled.

 

"Continue..." The Archmage said.

 

"I was wondering if you have seen a old friend of mine. He goes by the name 'Paladin'." Marcus asked.

 

"You are suggesting that the Paladin would keep the company of some lowly adventurers like yourselves? I say you are looking in the wrong place for him, if he is missing. If he isn't, I shall like to report you to some of my 'friends' at the local outpost for spreading damaging rumors. I don't think you'll like my 'friends'. Now get out of my way. I tire of this conversation." The old man said as he pushed past Marcus and Mordin and continued up the pass.

"Rude man..." Mordin whispered as they continued in the opposite direction, towards the forest.

 

"Well, what now? Where should we go?" Mordin asked.

 

"To the first town we can find. We should use it as a base of operations for our search." Marcus responded. With that, both of them started into the forest.

After about an hour of riding, Both Marcus and Mordin came out at a small town. A sign outside said 'Lemenet'. The town was small, about fifteen buildings in all. To the northernmost side was a church, and beside that stood a inn. Across from the inn was a smithy, and beside that stood a bakers shop and a tannery. On the other side of the church was a town hall and a bank. Across from the town hall was a tailor.

 

"The first place we should check is the church. If anywhere, that would be the first place he would go." Marcus said as he walked toward the church.

The church was a white building, made from carefully crafted wood. It had seen better days, however, and was in rough shape at the time. There was still painted propaganda from the uprising on the walls. It looked like no one had taken the time to fix it up. The doors swung easily as Marcus entered.

 

Rows of pews took up the center of the large room, and a alter stood at the head of this room. standing there, paging through his holy book was a priest. He jumped as the door scrapped the floor.

 

"y-y-yes?" he stammered.

 

"Hello dear priest. I am marcus, a adventurer of no little caliber. I am searching for a friend of mine, who goes by the name 'The Paladin'." Macus asked.

"n-n-no, no paladins here. No mages either. Now go. G-g-get out. Run!" The priest yelled. It was evident something was going on.

Chapter 5:Mindless Fear...

 

"n-n-no, no paladins here. No mages either. Now go. G-g-get out. Run!" The priest yelled.

 

"Calm down, father, calm down. What has happened?"Marcus inqured, trying his best to calm the priest.

 

"The mages! They took her! Our lady! she comes down from the mountains and blesses the waters of the lake, so that our crops may grow. She did not come down last year because of the invasion of the order int our lands..." The priest explained.

 

"One second, father. Invasion? What invasion?" Marcus asked.

 

"The order has been trying to stamp our goverment from the start. They call our commities corrupt and ridiculous. They have been trying to take over our lands for some time." The priest elaborated.

 

"About a month ago, a man came through our land and offered to help us, to bring us peace. He journyed to the City Divided. That was the last we heard of him. About a week latter a caravan of mages rolled through. They took what they wanted, saying they were under jurisdiction of the Order of the Swan. They had something large in the back of one carage reinforced with the finest dwarven steel. " I had moved up to the caravan to see if I could render any assistance, and that's when I saw her. It was just like I was told about in the book. Her blond hair was almost to her waist, and her skin was perfect, unmarred. But the clothes she was wearing were dirty, ragged. Her arms were a mass of scars from what appeared to be torture instruments, and she was not awake, whether it was of some drug or by magical means. "I felt a hand on my arm, and it clamped down as though the had of the one who shall not be named had grasped me. My skin seemed to sizzle beneath my robes, and I flung myself around to face the attacker... I could not believe it... I still can't... There appears to have been a survivor from the war... a Succubi... "I ran to the temple and hid as she laughed. They were gone the next day. They have her, though. Our protector, the Archangel on earth, the lady of the frozen mountain..." The priest concluded, lifting up the sleeve of his robe.

 

Imprinted on the flesh was the mark of a demonic hand, it's claws fully visible on the red skin. This creature was probably the sorce of some of the evil this part of the world was expiriencing.

 

"Will you help me? Will you get our lady back for us?" The priest asked.