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Post by Supervisor Silverclaw on Jan 18, 2021 3:50:53 GMT
At first, there was nothing. The earliest tales, taken from many ages ago, speak of a time before the world was born. They speak of a time when nothing was everything, before even stars lit the sky. The time before the warmth of a bright day. And perhaps, most importantly, the time before the gods. The empty and dark vastness that would eventually come to house everything that is known and is yet to be discovered. But it could not stay that way forever. At some point, the stars were born, and warmth was given to the universe. This allowed the first being to exist: The first god.
This god is said to have created Xinone, which is the world all have come to know, as well as countless other places that can be seen in the night sky. Unsatisfied, the first god created the first life - beings in their image, shaped to do the god’s bidding. But this god was cold, for there was none as strong as them. No one to call their equal. And no one to stop their descent.
As the years passed by, The first god began to warp and change. Simple mal intent became vicious callousness, which then slowly gave way to pure insanity. The first beings of Xinone, crafted in The First God’s image, started to change on their own. The First God was all they knew and all they were. As the god started to descend into insanity, many of the first beings followed. Some would drink blood, others would eat flesh. Others warped into creatures with strange bodies and cruel minds. This was the creation of the first evil.
But there were few who could resist. Eight of the first beings dared to fight the corruption that spread through their minds and bodies. Many of them failed, and those who did would become so enamoured with certain subjects that they too became gods. Selfishness, Rage, and Death were born. Seeing this, others decided that to fight was not worth the risk, and thus they would develop on their own. These are the beings that did not give in fully, but could no longer find the will within themselves to fight. Nature and Knowledge were born.
Then stood the final first beings. Alone in a world of evils, they would try to keep the darkness at bay. They too learned of the deep powers within them and would use them to the best of their abilities to fight off evils from all sides. They worked together to create life of their own, varied and plentiful, to inhabit Xinone again. These are the people the heroic first beings would fight for, Giving them a chance in a world full of evils. And these people would come to believe. They would give even when there was nothing left to give. And they would come to inhabit all of Xinone. Hope, Gratitude, and Travel were born.
But all did not go as planned. These new people, created in vastly different shapes and temperaments, started to fight and argue. They learned of those before them and grew curious. Some stopped believing. Others wanted to secure what they could for themselves at the expense of others. And still more would settle down and become insular. But still, hope resides. Gratitude is given. And people travel.
Can you ever truly defeat that from which you are born of?
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Post by Supervisor Silverclaw on Jan 18, 2021 3:51:49 GMT
The amount of information on the Sodden Lands is very minimal. This is partially due to the ever-shifting nature of the place - but one thing is certain. No matter what form the Sodden Lands are in, it’s incredibly difficult to stay in there for too long. Any being that stays risks overexposing themselves to the sheer strength of the magic that the heart radiates. No one knows for certain, but it’s said that side effects could begin to occur in as little as minutes, depending on how close you are to the heart at the time of being overexposed. It’s also hypothesized that knowledge of the magical arts either changes or provides protection from the effects, although very little is understood on the exact effects of overexposure, nonetheless any way to slow them down.
The Sodden Lands seem to also shift in appearance at non-standard intervals. At one moment the Sodden Lands may be a lush, beautiful garden - the next a hellish landscape made from brimstone itself. The current leading hypothesis as to why this happens is to provide a level of protection for the heart. Although many other hypotheses have been announced, none can be tested without the heart itself.
No matter where you live, The Sodden Lands and the Heart’s Desire has a large impact on everyday life. They drive hope in an otherwise bleak world, drive local cultures based on the myths and legends of what lies at the center, and have a continual impact on local policies.
The driving force of the outer lands lies at the center, for all to watch. Those who enter are forced into a rush for the center. None can survive.
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Post by Supervisor Silverclaw on Jan 18, 2021 3:52:07 GMT
Whatever that thing is, just having it in your possession could absolve you of any sin.
That’s what they said about the Heart’s Desire. No one knew what it was - but they could tell that it was there. Whatever it is leaves a massive magical signature - observable from anywhere on the planet, and unlike anything ever seen. And it only gets stronger as you tread towards the Sodden Lands.
There’s just one small problem. Getting through the Sodden Lands is impossible. Countless people have tried and failed. None of them ever came back. After losing a countless amount of good men and women, all nations sealed off their access to it for nothing other than exiles - those who deserved the ultimate punishment. Death.
And here I am, ready to face the inevitable after being convicted of “deflowering” the First Counsel’s sole daughter. I did nothing, I swear. But I had no proof. I don’t want to be here, but I have no choice. I’ve been branded a traitor and a criminal. My only way out is to prove myself worthy of the heart of this damn place. I’d do anything to leave this place. Whatever it is - just don’t make me stay here. Even if I have to fight a horde of demons to prove myself worthy.
Did I just hear that? No, it can’t be.
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Post by Supervisor Silverclaw on Jan 18, 2021 3:52:34 GMT
As Gregor slammed the door behind him, he made quick work of the door, locking it tightly from the inside, with little intent to come out - only for a few purchases he needed to make. Food could wait. He knew what he was doing would be nothing but torture and pain. But it didn’t matter to him. For all he was now was a tool - he had no intention to come back - no desire to ever return. All he wanted was peace.
But peace isn’t found inside a city that was in the midst of civil war. Opinions be damned, his resurrection at the hand of his so-called “friends” was all he needed to see what they truly thought of him as - a tool. He was too good of a tool to be let go - but once this fight was over, he would be left aside. He knew it. After laying his heart on the line to these people, showing them how he truly felt - none of them paid any attention to what he desired. Now, there were even less people in this world he felt he could trust - the only ones were back home, a place he so desperately yearned to return to if just to see his sister’s smiling face again.
He shook his head furiously. That would never happen. There are too many stopping points, too many reasons why not. He was stuck here, a tool of a rebellion he helped start but never wanted to be a part of. The lack of any true agency he had haunted him again - it struck him to the very core of his being, but it was with this anxious unrest that he saw what he needed to do. He hopped out of a window to make some purchases, and he would turn them into the best weapons for the job. Tools for a tool. He came back later, stowing several swords, a menagerie of daggers, a variety of protective equipment, and several buckets of paint on his person as he climbed back through the window, unseen.
He laid the longest curved blade - an elven curve blade - onto the table. His tutor, an elven woman by the name of Sharerra, had taught him how to use these ages ago, back before he left Taldor. It was the best weapon he could think of for the job. He spent hours looking at it, deciding how to etch into the blade without losing its structural integrity. Then, with the flick of his hand, a single claw appeared, and he began etching designs into the weapon. The etches were of his pains and fears brought to life - featured prominently in the center of the blade were the holy symbol of Pharasma and the church of Abadar. Once the design was finished, he put it up to a full-length mirror in the room. It also showcased Gregor’s many physical scars in plain detail, for all to see. Perfect. He shoved the sword in its sheath and tossed it aside. There was more work to be done.
Next, two slightly smaller curved blades appeared on the table. One his scimitar he used throughout his journey, the other new addition to his arsenal. He looked down and sighed. The sight of his scimitar made him regret the loss of his bow, traded in for the elven curve blade. But he got to work anyways, hunger pangs starting to kick in. These weapons were brutal and effective combat weapons, Gregor had learned from many years of use. Many people died by this very blade at his hands. He would pay homage to those lives lost. He laid out several pages of newspaper before grabbing some coloured pencils, designing all over the useless pages. By mid-evening, a design sprung into his mind. Quickly opening the buckets of paint, he dipped the hilt of both swords into the deep red before letting them dry on the newspaper. He mixed paints into many colours, each colour getting a spot on the blades. He would fit as many colours as he could on the sword while they still maintained an intimidating aura to them - as such, many colours were tinged with dark shades. When finished, he laid the swords to dry on the sheets of newspaper before continuing into the night.
Fatigue started to crawl in - but he couldn’t stop. More work needed to be done. He took the daggers off of the bandolier he had purchased for this task, setting them down on one end of the floor, and several protective sheets were placed over the full-length mirror and the surrounding area for its safety. It was the only object that stayed upright in this small room. He picked up a dagger and threw it, missing his mark, the left side of the room making a small thud in the middle of the night. It’s been a while since he last used these, and some time would need to be spent to relearn proper technique with throwing daggers. As night began to make way to dawn, he was more confident with his technique but felt the daggers needed an extra weight on the end. With no hesitation, he hopped out of the window again, this time with his hat of disguise. He came back an hour later, a small handful of gemstones - ten in total, one for each dagger, each of differing gems. He quickly adhered the gems to the daggers as best he could and threw them one more time once it dried. Just right.
Morning made way on the second day, and at this point, Gregor was rife with fatigue as well as hunger. And the last task was to be the most technical. Placing the swords, which dried overnight, in their sheaths, he placed the musket on top of the table. It was only a short period of time ago when he fired the firearm to incite a rebellion on the sole remaining bridge to Korvosa proper. He wished he could go back and finish the job he started. But it couldn’t happen. Life intervened before he could finish his job, again. The gun was really noisy, and reloading was difficult - two reasons he stayed away from firearms for so long. With no technical knowledge of firearms, he put on the protective equipment he purchased earlier and went to work. Quickly learning the ins and outs of the musket, but still, it was a job he feared was beyond his own capabilities. He’d have to make due. His task was to look for the cause of the noise. After a thorough search of the musket, he located a few pieces that seemed to be the main cause - many of which looked far too important or too risky to remove, but one piece seemed to be stuck. All he had was elbow grease and spit-shine - it would have to do. The musket was far too complex for his ability to comprehend. He began to sign his name into both sides of the firearm afterwards, etching it in with his claws much like he did with the elven curve blade. Finally, his work done, he got up and started to walk over to his bed, to sleep away the day.
But life had one more punch for him today - he was far more tired than even he realized, and fell asleep on the floor of the locked room with a massive thud. Sleep would claim Gregor before Gregor could claim sleep.
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Post by Supervisor Silverclaw on Jan 18, 2021 3:53:06 GMT
Everywhere Gregor looked was like looking into a mirror. Except this time, there was no mirror, just fire. It burned and raged around him, slowly creeping forward. As it moved, it sang a song of death everywhere it went. There was no escape. Just a slow and agonizing death comiing for him.
“So… this is it?” He spoke out loud, even though he knew that no one could hear him. “I’m to burn alive? I guess it’s fitting. After all this time and all this indecision, I’m forced to burn alive.”
The fire grew more intense as it grew closer, its terrible song growing clearer with each passing moment. Still, Gregor stood frozen, terrorized with indecision. He sighed, defeated.
Just then, he noticed a faint figure somewhere in the fire, its outline clearly visible within the flames. Gregor shouted at it for help. That he was still here. He didn’t question how someone could survive the flames. He just begged they would help.
“How can we help you, if you can’t help yourself?” The figure said, its voice emanating from everywhere and nowhere, Familiar, but unplaceable.
Gregor shot back pointedly, “I don’t care for your nonsense! Please, just help!”
“Then you are not worthy of our help. Goodbye.” The figure’s outline vanished altogether within an instant. The flames were much closer now. They were nearly at his feet. This would be the end of Gregor Silverclaw. The hero no one wanted, yet no one deserved. A figure of peace and utter, unimaginable tragedy.
The flames began to creep up his feet and quickly ran up the rest of his body. The heat was unimaginable. He screamed in pain as the fire sang its song. Minutes felt like hours, and there was no escape. He was destined to die.
But then, he woke up, sweat dripping like a leaky faucet.
“What…” Gregor could barely speak through the tears. He looked around. This was Castle Scarwall, alright. It was just a dream. But he knew what it meant.
“Is this… what I’ve become?” He thought. “Is this who I am now?” He looked around and noticed that everyone else was sleeping. At least, those who were capable of sleep.
A feeling of shame ran over Gregor, his spine tingling. Suddenly, he knew what he had become. Who he was. And it wasn’t who he wanted to be. He had spent far too long wallowing in his own pity to realize this for the past few months. No, not months. Years. That all of the answers he was looking for were right there, waiting for him.
He sat up and started to concentrate. Just admitting to himself what he just did. He felt better. As if several tonnes of weight had been lifted from his shoulders. That he had made mistakes. But he wouldn’t let them define him. Or at least, he would try his hardest.
Gregor Silverclaw, Firstborn son of Sotiris and Hera Silverclaw, had finally realized he could be what he wanted to be, even if it took many years. He wouldn’t let anyone else define him. Not anymore.
He had spent too long worrying, and not enough time living.
It was time to change that.
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Post by Supervisor Silverclaw on Jan 18, 2021 3:53:36 GMT
Hop. Thud. Gregor’s feet land surely on a rooftop in the dead of night. He continues running.
“I’m supposed to be a saviour.” the wolf-man thinks to himself. “Instead, I almost condemned someone to their own demise. What would my father say? What would everyone back home say?”
Hop. Thud.
“I can’t tell if I’m running from my past, or if I’m trying to run away from here. It doesn’t matter anyway. I failed. My father wouldn’t have failed. He saved the world, after all. Trinia has every right to be mad at me - and honestly, so does Regulus, Liz, and Val too. This is my fault. I made everyone a part of this.”
Hop. Thud.
“And now the city’s in a riot again. What do I do? Is there anything I can do? The more I learn about Korvosa, the more I wish I never had to stop here. Then, maybe, all of this could have been avoided. No one would be the wiser, and the queen could have her iron-fisted rule. No one would care.”
Hop. Thud. Screech. Gregor comes to a stop on one of the buildings, pulling out a pendant of Pharasma from a pocket.
“Modern prophecy, they called it,” Gregor started muttering to himself “Sure, that’s who I am. I was always going to be a spitting image of my father. And I wouldn’t let anyone down then. But everything was easier then. Now, I’m just going to let everyone down.” He paused. “And there’s nothing I can do anymore. I’m just here to play everyone’s game.”
Gregor sat down next to a box, defeated. Tears slowly started to form from his eyes.
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Post by Supervisor Silverclaw on Jan 18, 2021 3:54:24 GMT
I was really hoping to avoid Korvosa. It’s not the tone or the atmosphere. It’s not the ruling class, either. What would normally turn away most from this city wasn’t the problem I knew I was going to have. But my supplies were running low, so I had to make the stop.
Within any village of significant size, several people always recognize my lineage. It’s hard not to, if you have any idea what to look for - it’s not like you see Rougarou every day. And despite the fact that my father hadn’t been in Korvosa for over fifteen years, I knew my stay would be longer than the mere hour I was hoping for.
My first stop in Korvosa, as anywhere else, is the church of Abadar. I don’t even worship him myself, but everyone back home would be disappointed if I didn’t at least say hello. The clerics love talking about my father and his many deeds he accomplished during his career as an adventurer. I’ve had this discussion many times over with the clergy but it still makes me somewhat sick. I tune in and out as they drone on, wondering how this is something people can expect me to live up to.
Eventually I weasel my way out of the clergy and go to grab the supplies I need for the rest of my trip, but that isn’t as easy as I would like either. Thankfully in the fifteen years since his last visit, it’s a while before anyone does much more than stare at me, but after a while someone does the math and realizes who I am. I appreciate the company through Korvosa and they guide me through town to show me where I need to go, but the conversation is weak. If nothing else, Taldan royalty knows how to have a conversation that lasts basically forever. I pick up the slack where I can in the conversation, and eventually they leave as it gets dark.
On my way out of town, I run into a man. About my height and rather thin, but still obviously quite fit for an older man. I don’t make much of it - after all, this isn’t the first man I’ve seen out alone at night - but as I walk by, he stops me and asks for my help. As he turns around, I notice his piercing and dispassionate grey eyes seeing right through me instantly.
“Silverclaw, eh? Your father is a great man.” The man talks with authority and presence, but something seems wrong.
I nod my head to agree before I speak. “He really is. I owe a lot of who I am today to him. If you don’t mind, something seems off. Can I help you?”
“Yes, you can. I need someone to look after my daughter for a while. You see, I’m a busy man and I don’t want to leave my daughter all alone. Surely, someone of your pedigree can do such a task.”
I agree without hesitation, exactly as my father would have. I knew getting through Korvosa wouldn’t be easy, but surely a babysitting job can’t be that hard.
Oh boy, was I wrong. The man, whose name I learn later as Regulus, has a single daughter. Her name is Katrina, and she’s not very easy to deal with. And here I thought Leon was a pain while he was young (actually, scratch the young part. He’s still annoying). You can never let her out of your sight or she’ll find a way to mess up something.
One day, I take Katrina out to the market. Her father needs some time alone, and it was about time to get some food anyways. When I turn around to grab some apples, Katrina wriggles her way out of my hand as she runs off. When I notice, I curse myself and spend the rest of the day looking for her, to no avail.
Regulus is not going to be pleased.
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Post by Supervisor Silverclaw on Jan 18, 2021 3:55:12 GMT
Dear Nitsa,
It feels like so long since I could go home. I can’t lie, I’m still nervous about it. But I have to go home one day, right? And now feels like that time. I’ve learned so much over my journey. I’ve experienced so many different places and seen many different things, but what matters to me most is who I’ve met.
Everyone I’ve met is doing their best to get by. Many people are aimlessly moving throughout their day none the wiser. Some people are doing what they need to in order to live a life they deem fulfilling. And a select few are willing to put in as much effort as it takes to get the result they desire, be it through blood sweat and tears or nothing but a handshake and a smile. Everyone I’ve met has had an impact on me, one way or another. Some more than others, I’ll admit, but that’s the beauty of it all.
I’m writing this letter to you underneath the star-lit sky. It’s beautiful. I wish you could see it. I see so many constellations here, and so many of them are different from Taldor. I look up and many of them remind me of places I’ve been or things I’ve done. It’s a blessing to be able to look up at a night sky and not be filled with regret or anxiety, but wonder, awe, and anticipation instead.
I’m closing in on Magnimar now. I’m going to send this letter home on the fast track there, and take my journey home as fast as I can. I should be home in a few months. There are a few people I’d like to see on the way home, otherwise, I’d teleport back too. It’ll give me some time to truly think through everything that I experienced in Korvosa. And I sure did see a lot of stuff. I know that Sotiris has stories you don’t believe right away, but I think I may be able to top those.
I don’t know if he’ll approve of some of the things I’ve done, though. You’ve said over the course of our letters that as the years of gone by, he’s been more and more indebted to the Abadarite church. I’m not too surprised. He’s lost a lot of himself underneath a mountain of paperwork, just like how I lost myself to my own insecurities. I don’t expect any of the rest of my family to forgive me. But you’ve had my back this entire time, so I know you’ll understand. Make sure he’s aware that I’m going to come home with both good and bad news, ok? And the rest of the family, while you’re at it. I doubt that Thanos will appreciate some of the things I’ve done either. It’s only once you’re pushed to your furthest limits that you see what you’re truly capable of. And for a while, I had lost myself underneath a mountain of insecurities and false facts. I did things I’m not happy with to try and numb the pain instead of facing it head-on because trying to numb the pain with whatever is available is easier. But I’ve seen the error of my ways now. I can’t go on living like that. There’s so much left for me that I can’t afford to stop. I’m allowed to be who I want to be, and that isn’t necessarily a hero, but it’s not a villain either.
From now on, I’m going to be me. Whether anyone else wants it or not. I’ll continue to push myself to my absolute limits, and I’ll be there whenever I’m needed. This is the start of a new me. Just you wait Nitsa. I’m coming.
With sincere gratitude,
Gregor Silverclaw
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Post by Supervisor Silverclaw on Jan 18, 2021 3:55:44 GMT
At last. I’ve spent my last few years with these nightmares of Taldor being engulfed in flames. Today is the day I stop it in its tracks. I’ll end this once and for all. My sources say that something is supposed to happen in an abandoned warehouse not too far out from Yanmass. But why here? Why now? Does it even matter? I’ve come prepared for anything.
“In the name of Taldor, I demand you stop immediately!” There are at least a dozen people here. All of them dressed in purple, most of them hood-clad and wielding assorted weapons. But the one in the center is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. It’s like he’s half-human and half-demon, but he’s clad in purple - even his horns are glowing purple. And he’s wearing gold chains over his arms as accessories.
Whatever. They all die the same.
“Put down your weapons and go easily or go 6 feet under. It’s your choice.” The strange person in the back merely chuckled.
“I’ve been waiting for you. Get him.” And just like that, a dozen or so cloaked bandits charged at me. I chuckled.
“I’ve seen better threats from middle schoolers.” And like that, my eyes flashed blue. A blue circle had appeared over the area. I’d frozen time. Now was my time to strike. I immediately grabbed the musket and started to shoot, my shots fired at the first handful before time went back to normal.
When time went back to normal, they dropped like flies. I threw the musket straight at the head of the next one to knock him off balance as I switched out to the javelins. Aiming not for their bodies, but for the ground in front of them, creating a choke point. Not long after they hit their mark, the javelins started to explode in crackling electricity. Every javelin that exploded was another dead body, but more were still coming. I swapped to my elven curve blade as the remaining few started to approach. Every hit was a parry, every parry, a riposte. One hit, one kill.
And just like that, they were all on the ground, bleeding out or too dead to bleed. “I guess that makes this a 1 on 1, then.” “I’m not surprised. I’m even amused that you bothered to try that much for just them.” As he spoke, the chains around his arms began to glow.
“I have to make it interesting for myself.” I shrugged at the unknown person before charging at him, swapping out my Elven Curve Blades for my Dual Scimitars. My bread and butter, perfect for a 1 on 1 fight. And for the first time, my blades were stopped.
His arm held out, he used the chains to act as a shield, absorbing the brunt of the blow. He swung back with the other arm, using the chain on that one as a flail. But he was too slow for me. I was already striking back. A direct hit, but nowhere worthwhile.
Another chain, this time from the right. It was going to be too fast to miss, so I had to employ another tactic - mirror images. But he was smart and predicted my juke. As the chain hit, I could feel it wrapping around my neck like a noose. It wasn’t until shortly afterwards that I realized it was also slowly draining my life away. I had to think, fast.
“Over already? Frankly put, I’m disappointed. Weren’t you supposed to be a hero?” Every word was more demeaning than the last.
“You talk like you’ve already won.” With my strength draining fast, I summoned my magic again, and time started to shift. Backwards. Out of the shackles that had held me mere moments ago. But the chain was still coming towards me. This time, though, I knew what to do. An emergency teleport away. Not far, but out of his reach.
I swapped back to my curve blade and prepared myself for one more attack. It was time to go big, and I needed the biggest single hit I could get. I warped in, striking him in his exposed chest before I could even be seen. Blood was dripping all over the floor.
“Psh. You win this time, Silverclaw. I’m not going to sit here and bleed to death by your hands. But we’re not done here. Not yet. Not by a long shot.” And just like that, he was gone. All that was left in his place was another note.
I know this place. Let’s see what I can do.
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Post by Supervisor Silverclaw on Jan 18, 2021 3:56:04 GMT
He put his feet up on the table and looked out the window and smiled. Nothing but endless forest as far as his eyes could see. Gregor began to muse to himself about how nice it was to finally have time to himself again. His mind wandered off to his journeys in Korvosa, and what happened after they were all over.
His stay in prison was exactly a year long, and while no one had tried to fight him, he wasn’t left alone either. It seemed that everyone wanted a bit of Gregor in some way shape or form when all he wanted was a semblance of quiet. Anyone unfortunate enough to try and harass Gregor quickly learned what it was like to be on the wrong end of the Silverclaw. Others wanted to hear of his tales, both from in Korvosa and outside, to which he obliged as he felt like it.
Regulus came to break him out a year after he started his sentence. While it was nice to see his face again, he knew what this meant personally. It was time to go home. Making due on his promise, the two ran for the exit like leaves in the wind before they made their way back to the Norgorber HQ, where Gregor stayed the night. After a final goodbye to Aldrich in the morning, Gregor walked out the door with no hesitation. He had some last people to see before he went home.
First, he went to Liz - knowing roughly where she lived, he ran off in that direction, note in hand. He stopped for roughly a minute, as he had no time to stay, and shoved the note somewhere where it would be found by Liz. On it was a single address, and the words “If needed, send a letter through the bank of Abadar. It’s how I contacted my sister with haste.” After making sure it was firmly in place, he ran off. As much as he wanted to see Val, Regulus had told him that she was likely not here, and he was on a timer.
That left one last person - the other Gregor. No one knew if he was still alive or not, but he hoped with the bottom of his heart that he was. It took him most of the day, but eventually, Gregor did find him. The two exchanged quick words in secret before Gregor’s things were handed over, and he made haste again.
Gregor kept running as long as he could. His destination was Magnimar - he was safer there. If it took him a year to find a capable mage, he wasn’t at risk of being caught. Once he made it there, he rented a small shack and paid for half a year upfront. He was gone within a week, teleported off to Taldor.
He hadn’t told anyone of his arrival. It was sure to be a surprise, no matter who he met first. He had asked to be teleported to a back alley in Oppara, so no one would see him arrive. The first person he saw was his first brother, Thanos, a few blocks away from the Silverclaw household.
“Gregor? Is that you?” Thanos asked “You had us all worried. It’s been a long time since your last letter.”
Gregor nodded in response. “I know that, Thanos. I was preoccupied. Here isn’t the best place to explain. Walk back home with me, and I’ll explain everything when we get there.”
The two men walked home in silence, but it wasn’t more than a minute after he got in when his sister bounded down the door and gave Gregor a massive hug.
“Gregor!” Nitsa exclaimed, speaking through tears “You’re alive! Never, ever do that again!”
“I’m not going anywhere else. Not for a long time. I owe all of you an explanation. Come with me.” Nitsa eventually acquiesced and began to get their mother while Gregor and Thanos got their father.
After the three Silverclaws gathered their mother and father, Gregor sat down and explained everything that had happened to him during his time in Korvosa. His issues with the Queen Illeosa and Kazavon, the church of Abadar’s attempted assassination of him, his murder of the Archbanker in turn, and his year in jail for the crime. The table went into a stunned silence at the turn of events.
“I know this is a lot to take in. I don’t expect you to forgive me. Just know that after over ten years, I’m finally ready and willing to be myself, no matter the context or consequences. I plan to take some time to myself and build a place in a nearby forest. You’re free to check on me whenever you wish. But I need to get stronger. I can feel a change on the horizon, and I will be there for it.” The table simply nodded, and Gregor got up and left for his room. His self-imposed exile would begin tomorrow.
Gregor spent the rest of the night in silent contemplation before leaving the next morning, where he found a small hut in a nearby forest and claimed it for himself. By his estimations, no one had used it in years.
Gregor spent the next few years training in his little corner of the forest, honing his physical capabilities and coming to terms with his magical ones as well. His magical powers seemed limited to minor teleportation magic as well as some time manipulation. He spent years on his own, mastering the magics he was given.
Over the course of this time, his family eventually came to their own terms with Gregor, one by one. Nitsa forgave Gregor nearly immediately, figuring that what happened was cruel and horrible and not something she would wish on anyone. His mother and father took some more time, but the three of them reached a stable peace. They weren’t happy with what he did but understood why it happened. Thanos took the better part of several years to talk to Gregor, and the two could never really pick up the pieces as their worldviews had shifted too far apart, but they shared mutual respect regardless.
A knock at the door shook him from his daydream. “Come in.” he said. There was only one person who came to visit him - Nitsa. She wasted no time opening the door. She looked as if she had been up all night.
“Is something wrong?” Gregor asked.
“Yes. No. Not really. Taldor’s a mess right now, but that’s not why I’m here. Thanos asked me to tell you to go to the Palace of Birdsong. There’s someone waiting for you there. It’s someone you’ll really want to see again.”
Gregor sat there confused for a few minutes before he responded.
“Sure. I’ll go look. I believe I’m ready now, too. Thank you.” Gregor took his belongings and left for the Palace of Birdsong, ready to see what fate had in store for him this time.
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Post by Supervisor Silverclaw on Jan 18, 2021 3:56:38 GMT
Nothing was the same within the Silverclaw family after Thanos had sacrificed himself for Prince Carrius. My family had been left in three parts. Firstly, there was Gregor, who had sided with his lifelong friend in an ultimately vain effort to keep him safe. He had become what I always knew he could be. He’s a strong and capable hero that people can look up to. An imperfect person with flaws that stand out in ways that make him more positive. He became a lot of what Thanos was to the people of Taldor after the succession crisis, but with a different twist. A cautionary tale of both the dangers and the benefits of heroism. It took some time, but it was incredible.
My parents, on the other hand, were not as happy. Gregor ultimately ended up abandoning the Abadarite faith entirely after his events inside Korvosa. Not that I could blame him. Our parents, however, were furious at him. They barely talk anymore, and this has only caused my father, Sotiris, to busy himself even more than he had in his past. I can’t look up to who he is anymore, just who he used to be. It seems that between the lot of us, I’m the one who cares about the relationship we all used to share.
And then there’s poor, poor Leon. A mismanaged soul who has been labelled as a traitor to Taldan society on an accident alone. I knew that one day, he would come back to find his brother Thanos and end him for the wrongs he caused. I spent as much time as I could to keep him away. But now there’s no stopping him from worse if he shows up and realizes that Thanos is no longer with us. I’ve spent the last few years tracking him down so he couldn’t do that. Just last week I sent him a letter - it should intercept his path. Just barely.
But I can’t let that be all. The relationship between my parents and Gregor has finally started to stabilize. My efforts at home have started to bear fruit. I know I should stay home and help my family mend, but I’ve finally managed to track down Leon. And I did it before anyone else.
I have to help him. Before everything starts slipping away again.
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Post by Supervisor Silverclaw on Jan 18, 2021 3:57:02 GMT
A few days away from his not so graceful return to Taldor, a blissfully ignorant Leon received a letter backed with the seal of the Silverclaws. He looked at it for some time, before ripping open the letter with his claws and throwing the envelope into a nearby fire.
“Dear Leon,
I’m sending you this quick message before Sotiris and Hera get a chance to. Thanos has perished during the succession crisis that had swept Taldor for a few years. I know how much you didn’t like him. Now that he’s gone, would you consider returning? The entire family misses you so much.
Signed with love and care,
Nitsa Silverclaw.”
The letter was ripped apart into as many tiny pieces as Leon could make. In a sudden rush, Leon grabbed his belongings and ran like he hadn’t run since his last altercation with his now-dead brother. He ran in the same direction now as he did then. Away.
“There’s no way. No fucking way.” Leon’s state of mind was a mess. He was supposed to be the one to return to Taldor and get rid of his upstart asshole of a brother. The one who sat in the spotlight and made all of his hard work for naught. That was the whole reason why he had returned!
And to top it all off, his family knew where he was. There was no way he could stay now. He couldn’t risk getting any closer. Not to the family that treated him so poorly. Who left him alone in the world after the events that had taken place in that busy market square well over 15 years ago. The blame, the agony, and the misery all started to swirl back to him as his eyes began to wet on the run. Repressed emotions from long ago that he swore would never return.
The only way now was to never come back. There was nothing left for him here.
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Post by Supervisor Silverclaw on Jan 18, 2021 3:57:15 GMT
The first thing Leon did after “paying” for his room was crash onto the bed. It had been a long day, and he was starting to run low on resources. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but Leon was always crafty and scrappy. It was so nice of the innkeeper to let him in with such short notice, he thought to himself and laughed. If there were more people there than the two of them he would have caused a scene. Luck, at least this time, was on his side.
It wasn’t long before he began to feel tired, though. It had been a long couple of days after the letter Leon got from his sister, Nitsa. He had no intention to be found and would do anything in his power to avoid it. Not because he hated his sister. It was the only relationship with his family that was even moderately welcoming. But without being able to enact his revenge, Taldor had nothing for him. There was no one there who appreciated him for who he was or the person he wanted to be. The only thing going back would achieve would be anguish, and he needed none of that. Leon shook his head to get these thoughts out of his mind, put his head on the pillow, and drifted off to sleep.
The next thing Leon knew, he was in a forest of some kind. The forest was very dark, with a dense treetop canopy covering most of the sunlight. He could barely see in front of his face, nonetheless anywhere farther away. But what was worse was the sheer heat and humidity he felt - this must be the Mwangi Expanse, he thought to himself. Leon walked slowly as his eyes started to adjust to the darkness, but it wasn’t long before he heard a sharp snap - and instantly froze.
“Show your face and fight me or run away with your body intact!” Leon shouted. He didn’t know what - or who - this was, but he wasn’t afraid of a fight. It wasn’t long before he was surrounded - by at least a dozen duplicates of himself. He snarled before running at one full force. The duplicate had so little weight or being that it shattered instantly, causing Leon to struggle to regain his footing from the lack of impact.
“Psh, this will be easy!” He exclaimed to himself. This would be no more than a minute tops.
But things changed faster than he could have expected. The remaining images began to group together, then started to shift into a familiar face - Nitsa. The shadowy figure began to solidify, walk towards Leon, and extend a hand.
“Leon! I’ve missed you so much. It’s been so long. Things back home have changed. The entire family has been looking for you. They want to see you again. I want to see you again. They’re worried about you. Please, come home with me.”
Leon began to lurch towards the visage of his sister.
“And here you are again, unwilling to accept that things have changed. That I changed. I don’t want Taldor anymore - I don’t want my family anymore. I don’t want you anymore. In Taldor, I was struggling. No one appreciated me for who I was. All I wanted was people who accepted me instead of pushing me to be what they wanted.”
Then he threw a right hook, straight at Nitsa’s jaw. It shattered.
“I’ve accepted that what I did in the past was wrong. But that doesn’t matter. I found strength in my actions. I found a version of me that I appreciate and enjoy more than any fancy dinner party for fake royalty. And where were you when I needed you the most? Nowhere, that’s where. You decided that I wasn’t worth it. You claim that you cared. I want to believe you. But when I needed you most, you fucking vanished - along with so many more. You claimed you had enough. That’s bullshit and I know it.
How am I ever supposed to trust someone who does that? I know that nothing I do matters to you anymore. Now get lost, asshole.”
The left hook connected straight in the visage’s chest. Leon felt the familiar feeling of crunching bones and flesh combined with the sound of something breaking into a million pieces. The visage of Nitsa lay broken on the ground.
But Leon kept walking.
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Post by Supervisor Silverclaw on Jan 18, 2021 3:58:22 GMT
Thanos sat down on a chair he had built for himself. It was large enough to comfortably fit his large frame and was made from well-resourced materials. It had been a long day, but a wonderful one. His mind started to wander immediately.
It was a bit over a year since the events in Ustalav had ended. The defeat of Tar-Baphon was a momentous occasion, both for himself and his newfound friends. They spent some time rejoicing before they ultimately got back to work. They had a few errands to finish up. While Serana and Jadid went to deal with the vampire cure, Thanos had his own errand to run. He had promised Leon that he would help him make a village for his werewolf tribe. While it took some time, as well as a few months and a lot of help, the two managed to create a small Hamlet inside the forest. Thanos hoped that this would allow the werewolves to be recognized as a people, and not as monsters as his brother wished for. He knew that it was certainly a step in the right direction.
With a heartfelt goodbye, Thanos parted ways with his brother and began setting up for his trip home. He had sent a message some time ago, asking for the assistance of a Greater Teleport spell once he was aware of the completion date of his project. The wizard arrived on time, and gladly brought himself, as well as Jadid and Serana, to Taldor, where the three of them would be staying.
Thanos arrived home to thunderous applause, by both his family as well as the nobility who could make it for his arrival and was heralded as a hero. To which the Silverclaw insisted it wasn’t only himself, but the assistance of his friends that allowed him to succeed. He wouldn’t let this day go by with only himself taking all the glory. He didn’t need, nor want it at this point. Thanos was just happy to be home with his friend and loved one. The night went by with celebration and dance, and all had a good time. Thanos and Jadid got the first dance, as well. Jadid and Thanos both joked that Serana should dance with Osric, her “bodyguard”, but she refused.
Life had settled down for Thanos in the past few months. He still kept himself busy but made sure to not stuff his schedule like he had before the funeral had taken place. It was a promise to Jadid as well as to himself. He wanted to be there for his wonderful boyfriend, as much as he could. But he didn’t want to give up his old life entirely, either. He still found a peaceful solace in doing the work he did. He even got around to convincing Sotiris to do the same, but he only agreed to the request because it was partially done at the behest of Abadar himself.
Thanos’ thoughts began to drift again, but he soon found himself out cold, sleeping like a rock on the giant chair. He woke up several hours later to Jadid’s smiling face, and he smiled back.
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Post by Supervisor Silverclaw on Jan 18, 2021 3:58:34 GMT
I still remember that time. Travelling all over Taldor, and even Axis itself, with such heroes, was an immense pleasure. It helped me truly understand my role in the world. That, no matter what threat was on its way, there would always be a set of heroes ready to take on the challenge. When Prince Carrius was on his deathbed, I had but one option, for forcing our heroes the take on more suffering was not an option in itself. I could not allow it. And as such, I left my physical form behind to ensure Prince Carrius’ continued survival. But that doesn’t mean I no longer exist.
While I have no physicality, my spirit resides deep within Prince Carrius. I act as his advisor, although that role becomes less and less necessary as time goes on. Slowly, I found myself losing a place within the world altogether. My physical form no longer exists, everyone that I knew assumes I am dead, and Prince Carrius rarely needs my assistance. In truth, I have come to truly understand what my greatest fear has always been. The one that I pushed aside for so long that it was one I rarely thought of anymore. What will happen to everything once I am gone? Will the role I played in it during the short time span I did be enough to change anything, or is one truly a blip in the cosmic scale of indifference? Mere moments turn to years as my thoughts on the subject race. By my conjecture, I have forever to think on it.
From what I understand, I now exist outside the normal realm of death. As my physical form no longer exists, my spiritual essence is prone to continue to be what it is now. Once Carrius dies, I will have no home left and will be forced to wander the world much like a ghost - because that is what I am now. I will see society continue to grow and expand forever, and I will see what I did become less prevalent in this world the farther we get.
That time is coming sooner than I would like. Carrius is an old man now, I can’t sustain him for much longer. Then and only then will I be able to see what my place is in this new world. I grow more anxious as that day comes.
Eternity is longer than any soul can bear. I fear for my future.
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