The Wanderer

[Clense Soulbright]

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As the Great city of Stormreach appeared on the horizon, Clense Soulbright felt a great warmth enter his heart. He had missed this godforsaken place that he once called home for so many, many moons. The sun beat down upon his face, he felt weary and tired from his travels, but the sight of the spires and the smoke rising above the great Citadel lifted his spirits, he found renewed energy as he made his way closer.

Memories flashed through his mind, faces of the people who’s wounds he had tended, and those he had loved came to him more clearly than ever before. So many tales of battles won and lost, great deeds for the most noble of causes, so much blood spilled.

Clense had spent his life in the service of others, caring for the sick and wounded, he knew from a very early age that it was his destiny. He felt a great pain for those he could not save, and said a silent prayer for those that where lost. Each death had taken its toll upon him, the wrinkles In his brow and the grey in his hair the only evidence of the pain he felt deep within, hidden behind an ever present smile and warm, welcoming face.

And so he found himself sitting back in the good ol Rusty, sipping on his favoured Ghallandia, oh how he had missed that taste.
He felt an immense sense of nostalgia, happiness and sadness welling up in him all at once. It was here that he had met his first Love.
He peered over at the table nestled near the hearth at the back of the inn, remembering a love lost. The most wonderful flowing hair set about a face of pure beauty, a smile that turned Gods into mortal men.
Clense took a deep breath and closed his mind, a single tear like a perfectly shaped diamond fell from his eye and trickled down his cheek, as he recalled all the good times that this place had brought into his life.

As he walked the streets of the marketplace he saw many faces from the past, each sparking some distant memory. He remembered his friends, heroes of this great city, the very life blood that gave Stormreach its beating heart.

Mustrum, a wise and cantankerous wizard of no small skill.
Molkire a truly formidable Barbarian that sank fear into the heart of his enemies. Habba, a rising star among his friends, with a smile that lifted the heart and inspired men.
Paradisio, a healer and deliverer of justice.
Ergan, one of the most pure of heart and soul to ever have graced the streets of this fine city. Selvetran, the tin man with a heart of gold.
Maegli, a wirey and argumentative yet lovable ally. Malchion, Discoking, TSM, Dextor, Babanka, Wasted, Crystol, Aher, Alex, Baybans, Turund. So many names flashed through his mind, fine heroes, men & women of honour, far too many to remember.

As dusk fell Clense found himself staring up at his old Guild house.
The Companions had been Clense's family. Each had a special place in his heart, none more than their guild leader, Clense's first love.
His clenched raised hand fell slowly, edging its way to make contact with the sturdy oak door, but stopped short. A pang of sadness engulfed him and he walked swiftly away.

Clense walked for hours, he visited each house in turn taking in the beauty and splendour. In his own way, saying goodbye to the very fabric of his home. The time had come to fulfil his purpose here.
He saw a small Halfling dressed in the finest robes with an exquisite jewelled dagger tied to his belt.

“My friend, mights thou direct me to the guild house of the Shards Of Siberys?“

With an outstretched arm and finger pointing, the Halfing gestured to a door but a stones throw away and rapidly made his departure.
Clense lifted the large iron knocker and let it beat down upon aged old wood. The noise resounded through the air like an arrow hitting a tree.
Footsteps at first distant, slowly clapped raising in volume upon the stone floor until a voice cried out.

“Who goes there!”

“My name is Clense Soulbright, I seek an audience with Braxell”

“Wait, I shall enquire if he's here” the voice replied.

Clense's dearest and most trusted ally. Someone who he had sought council with many times before. A wise and compassionate friend he could trust who understood Clense and his purpose. They talked for hours reminiscing over great stories of their adventures. They laughed, oh did they laugh until tears welled in their eyes and their cheeks ached an uncurable pain. Underneath the laughter Clense fought back the sadness he felt, that this would be the last time he shared such joy with his friend.

Clense slept a deep dream filled sleep. He awoke and said his morning prayer. Descending the stairs into the great hall of the Shards. He admired the fine paintings littered about the walls recounting eons of history.
He sat and ate with his friend taking his fill. They did not speak yet a silent understanding flowed between them.

“It is time my friend”

They walked. Time passed in slow motion, the buildings whispered silent songs of times past and Clense smiled. The Huge gate to Stormreach approached. Stood beneath the Great Arch Clense turned to his friend. He took from around his neck a piece of twine tied fast to a large iron key and handed it to Braxell.

“I no longer need this brother”

Braxell took the Key, in his heart he did not want to but he knew that he must out of respect to his friend and his wishes. For the last time Clense offered Braxell his hand. They shook and embraced.

“Take care Clense, be safe brother”

“Fear not my friend, my life is just beginning”

Clense turned raised his hood and set off into the distance with nothing but his robe and pack filled with rations.

Braxell watched as his friend became but small speck on the horizon, he felt a sadness wash over him, though he knew Clense had found his peace and for that he was thankful.

“I will see you again old friend” He thought.

A smile stretched across Clense's face. His heart was filled with a new found sense of purpose and joy. He did not look back, only ever forward……..




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[Turund]

*wave*

Good to hear you old friend.

[Maeglin]

hey u mean i will have to ninja u again ?

Welcome back mate

[Ponzo]

I fear I bear ill tidings for you Clense. The fearless soul of your gallant paladin friend Wasted has been riven from our plane.

Whilst battling bravely against all and sundry, relying solely on his (pre-module 5) abilities to armour himself against the evil around him, he discovered he was in fact (a gimp) unable to hit a barn door with a shovel.

The long and short of it is, alas, he is no more. Many other (feeble, useless, shallow, worthless, frustrating) characters have arisen though to take his place. Should you feel the need to heal the sickly once more, you will find Tiro most accomodating.

Hopefully see you again soon, in one form or another.

[Braxell]

Braxell sits alone a glass in one hand, a key in the other. After what seems like days, he finally approaches the slightly battered chest that has been the object of his attention since saying his final farewell to his old friend.

He traces the now faded guild insignia around the lock, and inserts the key which still turns smoothly opening the lid. With a rueful smile he gently handles each object inside, memories spring up from each, memories of adventure and companionship, victories and some failures.

Closing the lid he returns to his seat and raises his glass " To your future my old friend, and whatever direction your destiny takes you "