# The origin of Elijayess Moonshadow -- A DRAGONLANCE Story Hour [PARTS I & II]



## Kai Lord (Sep 21, 2002)

Elijayess is the Wild Elf Barbarian Archer I've played for more than ten years.  In 1E he was an UA Barbarian, he has since been converted to a multiclass for 3E.  This is the original short story I wrote up and gave to my DM before we began his solo campaign.  It explains his motives, abilities, and personality.  It was written 13 years ago.  I was only 15, so be nice.  ; )

Its a pretty easy read, if it generates any interest I'll post some of his adventures as well.  I have divided the story into two parts.  Part I is presented below.  I will update with Part II shortly.

The story takes place on the Dragonlance world of Krynn, shortly before the beginning of the War of the Lance.  I hope you enjoy it.  Comments are welcome.

**

*NIGHT OF THE MOONSHADOW*

It began as a dream.
The cool midnight breeze whistled softly through the stout oak branches of Southern Ergoth.  Thick rain clouds masked the twinkling stars and the silent rumbling of thunder could be heard in the distance.  All was quiet—until suddenly a bloodcurdling scream pierced the air, a scream not of pain, but of loss.

“Atheena!”  called Elijayess, hoping to receive a reply from his crippled sister, screaming from the depths of the forest.

Elijayess ran, snapping low hanging branches that attempted to bar his path.  Relying solely on his keen hearing and infravision, Elijayess did all he could to locate his crying—possibly dying—sister.

He could hear another set of footsteps running up ahead of him, but the runner was invisible through the thick vegetation.  Somehow he knew the other runner was also trying to locate his sister, but with the intent of ending her life.

Harder he ran.  Elijayess’ sister, Atheena, remained silent but he kept running, in a way feeling her presence up ahead.  He knew he was close, and just prayed that he reached her before any harm could be done.

An ear shattering thunderclap echoed in the sky and rain began to fall.  As Elijayess splashed through newly formed puddles he began to see the faint outline of two figures ahead of him, one standing, the other huddled on the ground.  They were in a small clearing.

“Atheena!”  Elijayess called again, recognizing his sister as he burst into the clearing.  The he stopped short.  Holding his sister by her hair stood a Silvanesti prince; in his other hand he held a long, curved dagger.  The prince, clad in a white military uniform covered by a purple velvet cloak, smiled evilly.

“Go ahead, Half-elf,” sneered the prince, “rescue the crippled wench.”

Speechless, Elijayess glanced at his silver-haired sister.  Her clothes were ripped and torn, exposing too much of her delicate frame.  Seeping wounds covered her body, as if she had been savagely beaten.

Finding himself unarmed, Elijayess prepared to lunge bare-fisted at the regal elf.  But, before Elijayess could react, the elf prince stated, “Kiss her goodbye,” and with a swift thrust, jabbed the razor sharp dagger into the small of Atheena’s back.

“NOOOOOO!”  Elijayess cried, throwing off the wool blanket that covered his muscled body and sitting bolt upright on his straw mattress.  “No.”

* * * * *

Elijayess Moonshadow awoke to the chirping of playful birds.  Thick beams of sunlight poured through a paneless window, warming his elven face.  Elijayess, a full-blooded Kagonesti elf, stood up, reaching six feet in height, crossed the room of his crude but comfortable treehut, and gazed out the window.

Two Kagonesti children, Belrain and Maidel, were playing a heated game of vine-tag when Elijayess reached the window.

“Good morning, Half-elf,” piped the little Belrain as he perched himself on a branch a short distance from Elijayess.

Elijayess ignored the nickname.  “Half-elf” was the name given to Elijayess due to his incredible, almost inhuman strength.  He had always been strong, but when it became evident that his little sister was lame in both legs, he took it upon himself to carry her wherever she wanted to go.  The two were inseparable.  At first she felt almost weightless, but as she grew, Elijayess’ muscles grew with her.  Eventually he could scurry up trees, jump from branch to branch, and even do somersaults with his sister clinging to his back, just for fun.  Decades of such activity had turned him into a lean marvel of tightly packed sinew.

Without Atheena on his back he could jump farther than any elf, and he could snap the neck of the largest boar with his bare hands.  As strong as he was, he was equally quick, and no Kagonesti could aim a longbow truer than Elijayess.

His skin was dark like most Kagonesti, and his black hair was fine and hung almost to his waist.  He kept it pulled back in a single thick braid, and his bangs would cover his eyes if he didn’t keep them swept to one side.   His features were fine and he was quite handsome.  Even though his blood was pure, only his mother, father, and sister called him by his given name.

“Now aren’t we up bright and early?” Elijayess inquired.

“Of course,” replied Belrain, as his twin sister, Maidel, swung to her brother’s side.  “I’m training to become a boar hunter!  And father says that boar are up at the crack of dawn!”

Elijayess, renown hunter throughout Southern Ergoth, smiled.  “Just stay away from the palace of the Noble Ones.”

“Okay!  See ya later Half-elf!” and with that Belrain and his sister resumed their game.

“Noble Ones” was the Kagonesti term for the Silvanesti elves; coined by the Silvanesti themselves.  Following the draconian attack on their homeland, the arrogant Silvanesti elves had begun to flee westward to the southern reaches of Ergoth, home of the Kagonesti, where they began to build a fortified retreat in case their capital city fell.  Here, the Kagonesti were looked upon as savages and barbarians, and many were quickly enslaved by their more civilized brothers.  Well, not really enslaved, just told that Ergoth now belonged to the Silvanesti, and if the Kagonesti wanted to stay they must follow the strict rules of their new leaders.  All for the Kagonesti’s own good of course….

Elijayess hated the idea, especially since the Silvanesti began forcefully recruiting the Kagonesti as “servants,” but there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.  Elijayess’ thoughts were interrupted by a gentle voice, “Elijayess?”

He turned and gazed upon his beautiful sister, lying on a mat not unlike his own, in a far corner of the hut.

“I heard you scream last night,” she said, “was it another dream?”

“Nightmare.”  Elijayess replied.  Adorned in a fringe breechcloth like many of his tribe, Elijayess put on his soft leather boots, placed a dagger in each one,  and crossed the room.  “I was hoping I wouldn’t wake you.”  And with that he tenderly picked his sister up off her bed and carried her outside.

“Hold on,” he said as he swung her easily onto his back.  Atheena wrapped her arms gracefully around Elijayess’ neck as he grabbed a vine and began climbing to the ground, hand under hand.  As Elijayess touched ground, the sound of chopping wood could be heard from his father, Faethaleon’s, work shed.

“Good morning, father,” Elijayess said as he carried Atheena into the shed.  “What are you doing?”

Faethaleon looked at his raven-haired sun.  “Take your sister to breakfast, then come and see me.”

Confused, Elijayess and Atheena left and entered their parents’ hut, a dwelling place much larger than their own.  Here, Elijayess and Atheena’s mother, Amberle, prepared a vegetable meal.

“Hello!” she beamed.  “You’re just in time for breakfast.”

“Mother,” Elijayess asked, “what is father doing in the work shed?”

Amberle’s face grew stoic.  “Eat your meal,” was all she said, glancing back and forth from daughter to son.

After a filling breakfast Elijayess left his mother and sister and headed over to his father’s roofless shed.

“Hey, Half-elf!” came a call from the trees, causing Elijayess to glance upwards.  It was Jase and Cain, two elves Elijayess’ age who tormented him at every opportunity, especially since Jase had won the heart of Kintara, an incredibly beautiful elfmaid; a girl Elijayess once loved deeply.

“What in the abyss do you do in your sleep?” Cain asked.  “You woke up half the forest last night.”

Elijayess looked down, “Never mind.”

Jase and Cain laughed.  “Hey, how’s the fishing been?” asked Jase.

“Not very—“, Elijayess paused, somewhat confused, “what do you care?”

Jase laughed again, “Oh, I heard that your canoe sprang a leak and you had to swim home, that’s all.”

Elijayess’ eyes became narrow slits as he gazed upon Jase and Cain.  “I never told.”

“Oh, um, well we just figured—uh—I mean…” Jase stammered.

“It was you!”  cried Elijayess, scrambling up the trunk of the tree Jase and Cain occupied.

The two tricksters, aware of Elijayess’ speed and strength, decided to take no chances and began to flee.  Cain dove to a lower branch of a different tree while Jase scurried to the end of the branch he was on and lunged for a larger tree next to it.

Focusing on Jase, Elijayess perched himself on the branch Jase was jumping off of, yanked a dagger from his boot and, holding the tip, hurled it at his prey.

Jase stumbled as he landed, and grabbed the thick trunk of the new tree he was on to prevent himself from falling.  Thok!  Elijayess’ dagger buried itself to the hilt in the tree trunk an inch from Jase’s head.

Without letting go or turning around, Jase taunted, “You missed, Half-elf!  You’re even beginning to aim like a human!”

Not wanting to bring the wrath of the stronger elf upon himself, Jase lunged to another branch—or, at least, tried.

“Ow!” screamed Jase, rubbing his neck.  The dagger thrown by Elijayess hadn’t missed at all; it had punched a lock of Jase’s hair right through the bark.  When Jase tried to jump to another branch, his head swiftly jerked backward and he found he couldn’t move.

“I’m beginning to aim like a what?” came a voice from behind Jase.

“C-come on, Half’”, Jase pleaded, “I didn’t mean it.”

With tremendous force Elijayess jerked the dagger out of the tree, allowing Jase to collapse to his knees on the stout branch.  Replacing the knife in his boot Elijayess asked, “How’s Kintara?”

“F-fine,” said Jase, still rubbing his neck.  “She’s been wondering how you are, too.”

“Really?” inquired Elijayess, his dark cheeks turning bright.  A quick fantasy of Kintara and himself entered Elijayess’ mind before being interrupted by a crisp shout.  “Halt, Kagonesti!”

Elijayess turned.  About twenty yards away in another tree stood four Noble Ones.  They were dressed as scouts; leather tunics and leggings plus green hooded cloaks.  All except the leader held drawn longbows and carried a shortsword at their sides.

“You are under arrest for the unauthorized use of a metal weapon!” called the lead scout.

Next to the leader stood Cain, an evil smirk on his face.

Jase stood, as speechless as Elijayess.  “Give up Half-elf!” called Cain, “They have you surrounded!”

“Since when do Kagonesti spy for the Noble Ones?”  Elijayess muttered.

“Since they give me—“

“Silence!” shouted the leader, obviously annoyed by Cain.  “Now, Kagonesti, surrender yourself.  I promise you will benefit from serving the Noble Ones in the palace.”

“No.”

“Surrender yourself, barbarian, or your friend dies!”  and with that the scout grabbed Cain by the arm and twisted it in such a way that Cain let out a piercing screech.  “What are you doing?  You promised!” wailed Cain.

“Now,” stated the leader, “Am I going—Urk!” was all he could say as an arrow shaft embedded itself in his throat.  Letting go of Cain, the Silvanesti toppled off the branch and fell to the ground with a bone-crunching thud.

“Father!” Elijayess shouted.

At the base of the tree Jase and Elijayess occupied stood Faethaleon Moonshadow, white oak longbow in one hand, a red-feathered arrow in the other.  Taking advantage of the dumbfounded scouts, Elijayess ripped a four-foot long tree limb out of the branch on which he stood as Cain made a dive for another tree.

“Kill them!” shouted one of the three remaining scouts.  And with that they loosed their drawstrings at Elijayess and Jase.  With incredible reflexes Elijayess maneuvered the tree limb he held into the path of the two arrows.  Thok!  Thok!  The third arrow found its mark in Jase’s side.  “Aargh!” he cried, grabbing the tree trunk to prevent himself from falling sixty feet to the ground below.

Seeing that Jase was all right, Elijayess whipped out his two daggers and launched them at a Silvanesti scout who was busy notching an arrow.  Each dagger punctured one of the scout’s shoulders, throwing the elf off the tree, his shriek cut short by the impact of the ground.  As another scout was picked off by Elijayess’ father, the last trained his bow on Cain, who was scrambling through the trees in retreat.  He let go of the drawstring and the arrow flew straight.  As he skipped from one branch to the next, the arrow shot through Cain’s back, fractured his spine, and pierced his heart, spurting a fountain of crimson blood out his chest.  Dead before realizing what happened, Cain fell headfirst to the forest floor.

“You will pay for that, Noble One!” Elijayess screamed, death in his eyes, “Do you hear me!?”  And with that he ran down the branch, catapulted himself off a tree trunk, regained his footing on another tree, and darted toward the last Silvanesti.

Turning around, the Silvanesti dropped his bow in terror and began to clumsily draw his sword.  Before the sword was halfway out of its scabbard, Elijayess was upon him.  With one swing of his makeshift club, Elijayess shattered the scout’s lower jaw and sent him careening into the trunk of the tree.  Breaking his nose on the tree trunk, the scout staggered backward in a blind daze.  Elijayess gripped the elf’s rumpled collar and hoisted him into the air.  “When you see Cain in the Abyss, tell him I said hello.”

And with that Elijayess hurled the sputtering scout through the air and into another tree with enough force to snap the elf’s neck like a twig, then watched as the scout joined the others on the forest floor.  Elijayess stood, shaking.  Never before had he killed another elf, but today two lay dead, their blood on his hands.

“Elijayess!”  called Faethaleon.

Turning around, Elijayess replied, “They’re gone, father, dead.”

Looking down at the ground, Elijayess spied many fellow Kagonesti looking on the various bodies that littered the floor of the forest.

“Elijayess, come down here,” called his father once more.

Elijayess noticed that Jase was gone, probably fled, he thought, and climbed smoothly down the tree trunk closest to where his father stood.

“I have something to show you.”  Faethaleon said.

Without a word, as others disposed of the bodies, Elijayess followed his father back to the work shed he had been working in earlier.  Elijayess entered very solemnly.

“What will become of us, father?”

“They will hunt for us as soon as they realize the scouts haven’t returned.”

“But what will we do?”

“We’ll be ready,” said Faethaleon, lifting a six foot long box out from under a bench and setting it on a cluttered table.  "With this.”  And with that he threw open the lid.  Elijayess gasped.

Faethaleon gripped the handle of an expertly crafted longbow and lifted it out of the box.  It appeared crude by Silvanesti standards, but the Kagonesti knew the massive weapon was anything but.  “I call it the Big Bear, made from the rarest tree in Ergoth, the Silver Oak.  The bow itself wasn’t silver, it was mottled brown, but Elijayess thought it was beautiful.  There isn’t a bow on Krynn that will fire with such accuracy, grace, and power as the Big Bear.  Here, feel the pull.”

Elijayess took the exquisite longbow from his father and pulled the string to his ear.  It felt like it was made for him.

“Do you think you can handle it, son?”

“You don’t mean…”

“Of course I do!  I have trouble just pulling the drawstring to my elbow!  But if you’re going to use that bow, I have some specially crafted arrows that cut extra deep.”  And with that Faethaleon lifted a hard leather quiver, chalk full of black-feathered sheaf arrows, out of the case and laid it on the table.

Elijayess slid an arrow out of the quiver and notched it in the bow.  “Not bad, eh?” snorted his father, “I made those as well.”

Elijayess tapped the arrowhead lightly with his finger; it was razor sharp.

“Well, put everything away for now,” Faethaleon said.  “We’ve got spies watching the palace who will warn us first thing if the Noble Ones increase their patrols.  We’re safe for now.”


** * * *   PART II  * * * **


Two weeks passed.

“Half-elf!  HALF-ELF!”

Elijayess, sitting cross-legged in the afternoon sun and holding a wounded fox in his lap, looked up from his furry companion’s broken leg at the sound of the cry.  It was Jase.

“You’ve got to help me, Half’,” said Jase, panting as he reached Elijayess.  “They’ve got her!”

“Who?” Elijayess asked, setting the fox down and standing up.

“The Noble Ones, they’ve taken Kintara!”

“Kintara!?  But how, why?” asked Elijayess, feeling the intensity of the moment.

Jase took a deep breath.  “I heard from Lauren; he’s been spying on the Noble Ones.  They were rummaging around in my treehut a few days ago, looking for me.  I didn’t want to take any chances, so I stayed over at Lauren’s for a couple of nights.  This morning, when I went to see Kintara, I found her hut trashed.  There were…drops of blood by the door.  I believe they’re using her to get to me, they know what we did, you’ve got to help!”

“Well then, my fellow Kagonesti, let’s not waste another moment!” said Elijayess as he dashed off through the trees leaving elf and fox behind.

“Hey, wait up, Half’!” and with that Jase took off after the stronger elf.

It was nearly evening when the two Kagonesti reached the palace of the Noble Ones.  The palace itself was an immense network of treehuts above a small village on the ground.  The palace was extremely quiet.  Were it not for the torchlit windows, Elijayess and Jase would have thought it was vacant.

“What do we do now?” asked Jase, shaking a little.

“We go inside.”

“But how?”

“Leave that to me,” said Elijayess as he began scaling a large oak.  Following a large branch to the edge of one of the treehuts, Elijayess whispered loudly, “Go back to the village and tell my father where I am.  I will see if I can rescue Kintara.”

“Okay,” said Jase, “Hey, thanks Elijayess…”

Elijayess smiled.  “Hurry back, my friend.”  And with that he slipped quietly through an open window as Jase hurried back to their village.

Elijayess found himself in a dark room, a room that wasn’t empty.  Elijayess could see a reddish outline of a sleeping figure in a bed next to the window.  With the silence of a mouse walking through sand Elijayess crossed the room and peered out the open doorway.  From there he spied an elf, not a Silvanesti but a fellow Wild Elf.  He didn’t recognize the girl, but he could see she had been mistreated.  She was dirty and undernourished, and wore grimy clothes probably cast off by some Silvanesti noble.

As he was about to call out to her, an incredibly loud boom of thunder rocked the huts and Elijayess heard the sleeping Silvanesti begin to stir.  Not wanting to attract attention to himself, Elijayess waited until the girl, obviously a servant of some kind, entered a room then he slipped into the shadows of the dimly lit hall.

Stealthily working his way down the hall, Elijayess suddenly heard voices up ahead.  Two Silvanesti were heading his way.  Seeing no doors present, Elijayess curled himself into a ball, then lunged straight up with all of his strength.  He grabbed hold of a wooden rafter with one hand, then swung upwards so that he was perched between the rafter and the ceiling.

After waiting a scant 30 seconds, the two Silvanesti came into view.  They were clearly guards of some kind, for they were dressed head to toe in chain mail armor and one of them carried a two-handed longsword on his back.

Since the two daggers Elijayess carried in his boots, found in a human ranger’s lost backpack, were the only metal blades he owned, the longsword looked very appealing.  Waiting until the guards had passed just a couple of feet from his hiding place, he dropped to the ground.

“Wha?” said one guard as Elijayess landed, then “Huhhhl!” as a well placed jab with the heel of the Wild Elf’s hand smashed the guard’s jaw shut.  As the first Silvanesti clutched his jaw in agony, the second drew his longsword, a sword frequently referred to as a bastard sword, since it was the result of an unholy union between a long sword and a giant two-handed sword.

“That was the last mistake you’ll ever make,” said the guard, only missing Elijayess due to the Kagonesti’s feline prowess.

Backing up, Elijayess slowly crouched down and pulled the dagger out of his left boot.  As he prepared to throw the knife at his adversary, the sound of another elf sneaking up behind him got his attention.  With lightning speed, Elijayess lunged straight up, dropping the knife and once again grabbing the rafters as a crossbow bolt zipped between his legs from behind and embedded itself into the belly of the very surprised guard who dropped his sword and slumped to the floor.

As the guard behind him reloaded, Elijayess dropped to the floor and gripped the blade of his dagger tightly between his thumb and index finger.  Whipping around, Elijayess let go of the knife and watched as it lodged itself into the crossbowman’s forearm, causing him to yelp in pain and drop his weapon.

Before waiting for the wounded guard to draw his shortsword with his free hand, Elijayess somersaulted over to the guard who laying gasping with a crossbow bolt in his stomach.  Scooping the bastard sword up off the floor, Elijayess turned and parried a blow by the charging crossbowman’s shortsword.  With a swift kick to the abdomen, Elijayess downed the elf and slammed the elbow of his free arm into the slumped guard’s back, knocking the wind out of him.

Turning to the elf who still had the bolt in his stomach, Elijayess gripped his throat then said, “Where are your prisoners?”

“I-I-I don’t know!” stammered the wounded guard.

“You lie, tell me!” Elijayess snarled.

“D-down below, in the village!” said the guard, tears streaking down his cheeks.

“Thank you,” said Elijayess before ripping the bolt out of the guard’s stomach, causing him to cry out.  “Now I don’t think you’ll be needing this anymore,” Elijayess said as he unstrapped the guard’s sheath from his back.  The Silvanesti passed out as Elijayess strapped the sheath to his bare back and continued, sword drawn, down the hall.

Expecting trouble, Elijayess quickened his pace.  Finding another room, Elijayess quietly slipped inside.  Seeing that it was unoccupied at the moment, he sheathed his sword and climbed out the window.  The first thing he noticed was that it was raining.  Hard.  Looking down, Elijayess could see the small village that lay directly below the palace.  He scanned his surroundings, looking for a tree close by or perhaps a vine.  Seeing neither, Elijayess grabbed a knot in the outer wall of the room he just exited from and swung himself underneath, where he grabbed one of the massive stilts supporting the palace.

Commotion could be heard above; the three guards were probably discovered, Elijayess thought, his long black braid dangling against his sword.  By using various knots, cracks, and holes in the tree supporting this portion of the palace, Elijayess managed to climb down to the ground.

The muscular Wild Elf, standing on the outskirts of the village, cautiously entered, fully aware of the now darkened skies.  As he skipped over to a small hut, Elijayess noticed two Kagonesti slaves walking toward a larger hut.

“Brothers!” Elijayess whispered loudly.

Recognizing one of their own, the two Kagonesti quickly rushed over to where Elijayess stood.

“You—you’re the one they call Half-elf, are you not?” asked one of the slaves.

“I am.” Elijayess replied.  “Where do the Noble Ones keep the prisoners?”

“In the Hall of the Shamed, over there,” pointed the second elf.

“Then that is where I must go,” said Elijayess as he began running to the Hall.

“But wait!  We can help you!”

Elijayess stopped.  “How?”

The two slaves grew very excited, “We can show you a secret way in!”

Elijayess, already drenched from the pouring rain, agreed.  “All right, lead the way.”

The slaves ran merrily to the Hall where they pointed out a steel grate in the ground.  An unnatural smell was drifting out, causing Elijayess to pause.  “What’s in there?”

The first slave replied, “They call it a sewer.  They dug it shortly after they built this.  Each room above is connected so they can dump their waste.”

“That doesn’t smell like waste.”

“Its filled with a black sticky substance called tar.  It helps mask the smell.  I’ve also seen them coat their torches with it to help them burn, its nothing to fear.  Now hurry, you mustn’t keep Kintara waiting.”

“Yes, you’re right,” said Elijayess, gripping the sticky bars.  “Hnnnh!”  as he ripped the grate loose.

Slipping down into the nearly waist deep tar, Elijayess called up, “Now, go tell every Kagonesti that can walk to flee from the village as soon as they hear a loud noise.”

“How loud?”

“Very loud,” and with that Elijayess drew his sword and sloshed down the sewer tunnel.  Periodically he saw various gratings in the ceiling, of which he would peer upwards into, only to have his hopes dashed at finding Kintara by the sight of an empty room.

After twenty minutes of searching, Elijayess spotted a dead end past one final grating.

“Strange that they have so few prisoners,” Elijayess thought to himself, for he had yet to see the first captive.  Peering into the last grating, Elijayess became ecstatic.  There, sitting on a bed in plain view, was the exquisite Kintara.  Her hair was as black as night, a striking contrast to her glowing beauty.  She was wearing a white robe trimmed with red and seemed to be crying.

“Pssst!” gestured Elijayess.

Kintara glanced downward, through the grate.  “Elijayess, don’t—“

“Shhhh!”  Elijayess said as he sheathed his sword and put both hands on the grating.  With all of his strength he ripped the grating loose.  “Come on, hurry!”

Kintara looked as if she was about to say something, but hope twinkled in her eye and she quickly climbed down into the sewer.  Elijayess hugged her, thankful she was alive.

“Elijayess,” Kintara said, “they were expecting you.”

“Who?”

“The Noble Ones!  They kidnapped me in hopes of capturing you and Jase if you tried to rescue me, we must leave quickly!”

Suddenly an enormous fist shot through the air and clubbed Elijayess in the chin, catching him off balance and throwing him into the wall.  He shook his head as if to clear it, then: Sockk!  Another blow knocked Elijayess to his knee.  Though his head was spinning, he could hear Kintara screaming.

“Get up Kagonesti!  Let’s see how well you fight something you can’t see!” came a voice from in front of Elijayess.

A massive half-elf, obviously in the service of the Silvanesti, had covered himself with tar from head to toe.  He was all but invisible to the Kagonesti due to the fact that the elf’s infravision could only pick up different levels of heat, which the tar successfully masked.  Elijayess could hear more figures covered in the black sludge closing in on him and suddenly saw a flash of steel.

Kintara cried out in pain as the sword entered her body.

“Noooo!  You bastards!”  seethed Elijayess.  Another blade whipped through the air and sliced an inch into Elijayess’ side.  Ignoring the pain, Elijayess swung blindly, hearing the crack of someone’s skull as his elbow hit something hard.

“Nyaargh!” Elijayess roared as he ran sluggishly down the tar-filled tunnel.  Even though his incredible speed managed to put a fair amount of distance between him and his pursuers, Elijayess could hear the half-elf gaining on him.

Just 20 feet away from the mouth of the tunnel, Elijayess saw two more Silvanesti jump down into the tar.  Seeing his exit cut off, Elijayess reached up and grabbed the nearest grating and yanked it loose, adrenaline coursing through his veins.  Torchlight poured into the tunnel, and for a split second Elijayess saw the enormous half-elf make a lunge at him.  A split second was all Elijayess needed.

Side-stepping the half-elf’s lunge, Elijayess followed with a swift jab of his knee into his attacker’s stomach.  The blackened half-elf doubled over, and Elijayess immediately stepped onto his back and pulled himself through the torn grating.  In his haste, Elijayess scraped both sides of his body on the sharp edges of the hole, causing him to briefly wince in pain.

As he prepared to gather himself to run, the half-elf reached through the hole and gripped Elijayess left shin with such strength that even the Wild Elf lost his balance and fell.  Smirking evilly, the dark crossbreed began dragging Elijayess back toward the sewer.  Elijayess, on all fours and still in a rage over the death of Kintara, brought the knee of his free leg up to his chin then launched it into a backward kick that caught the half-elf square in the nose.  Thunch!  Blood spurted out of the half-elf’s face.  Screaming wildly, the half-elf relaxed his grip just enough for Elijayess to yank his leg loose.  Burning with anger, Elijayess dove across the room and ripped a torch out of the wall as the sputtering half-elf fell back into the sewer.

“This is for Kintara,” Elijayess whispered as he tossed the torch into the hole.  The entire sewer immediately became a scorching inferno as the tar ignited, causing the Silvanesti below to shriek in horrifying agony as the exploding fire consumed them.  In seconds the entire tunnel was engulfed, and two more guards who waited at the mouth became charred to their bones as the flames escaped with a thunderous boom.  Hoping the other Kagonesti heard the explosion, Elijayess ran outside.

Suddenly Elijayess came to a dead stop.  The two slaves that led him to the sewer grating!  They must have been working with the Silvanesti and therefore didn’t warn the Kagonesti!  Of course, damn them.  What was it they said, Elijayess thought.  “You mustn’t keep Kintara waiting.”  He didn’t know them, how could they have known who he was searching for.

Infuriated, Elijayess ran outside the Hall of the Shamed and into the pouring rain.  Just then the flat of a longsword blindsided him and he fell flat on his face.

“Thought you would actually escape, eh?”  came an arrogant, yet strangely familiar, voice.

Elijayess looked up, then cried out.  Standing above him was a Silvanesti noble, wearing a white military uniform and purple cloak.  Strapped to his belt was a very familiar dagger.

“I think a message needs to be sent to your people, one that will prevent such insolence.  You may have caused deaths to my people, but your pain has just begun!”  And with that the contemptuous elf swung the flat of his blade at Elijayess’ face.  Thwack!  Dazed, Elijayess rolled over.  Rubbing his head as he stood up, Elijayess drew his sword and prepared for combat.  But the elf noble was gone.  Elijayess looked around frantically.  He saw a flash of purple in the direction of his village and knew immediately the elf’s intentions.  The dream.  The rain.  The runner.  Atheena.

“No!”  Elijayess screamed as he sprinted through the forest hoping to catch the Silvanesti.  As he ran, he saw two figures running through the woods in his direction.  He lunged at one of them, preparing to slice his head off.

“Elijayess, no!”  screamed Jase.

Recognizing his friend, Elijayess checked his swing.  He saw that Faethaleon, his father, was with him.

“Kintara’s dead,” Elijayess said in a rush.  “And so will Atheena be if I don’t make it back to the village in time!”

As Elijayess began to run, Faethaleon shouted, “Wait son, take this!”

Elijayess turned as his father tossed him the Big Bear.  Clutching the massive longbow with an outstretched hand, Elijayess gazed at it solemnly as rain streamed down the curves.  As his father began unshouldering the tightly packed quiver Elijayess stopped him.

“Just give me one, father.  I travel light.”  Faethaleon paused, then drew a single black feathered arrow from the quiver and tossed it to his son.  With the arrow gripped tightly against the thick of the bow, Elijayess noticed one last thing before he resumed his chase; Jase was crying.

The raindrops splattering all over Elijayess’ body only made him run harder.  He prayed to the spirit of Kith-Kanan, hoping the life of his precious little sister could be spared.

After running for what seemed like hours, Elijayess spied the village through the trees as lightning lit up the sky.  Bow in hand, Elijayess dashed in the direction of his treehut.  There, climbing the vine that lead to the hut, drenched to the bone, was the Silvanesti noble.  Clutching the dagger in his teeth, the elflord tried desperately to reach the hut, but the wet slick vine proved difficult.

Raising the Big Bear, Elijayess notched the arrow and pulled the drawstring to his ear.  At the next flash of lightning, he let the arrow fly.  Never before had his aim been truer.  Neither the downpour of rain nor the gusting wind could skew the path of the arrow.  It struck the Silvanesti full in the chest, ripped his heart in two, and dug so far into the tree behind him only the feathers of the arrow remained visible.  Spitting blood, the elflord relaxed his grip on the vine and, snapping the arrow in two, fell to the ground, now nothing more than a crumpled heap.

Elijayess looked to the ground.  Dropping his bow, he felt relief that it was over.  Things were different now, but Atheena was safe.  He slowly raised his head and looked up at the hut.  Inside Atheena slept, totally oblivious to what had transpired below.  The Silvanesti had lost a noble, Ergoth lost a tyrant.  But there would be more.  And they would learn what Elijayess did.  He realized that to keep his people safe, he may have to leave home forever.


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## Darkness (Sep 21, 2002)

Great stuff; I especially like all the "little" details in his backstory - like his nickname and how he always carries his sister...


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## Kai Lord (Sep 23, 2002)

Thanks Darkness!  I specifically wanted the backstory to explain his strength (18/00) as well as Barbarian abilities.  As you can see PART II has been added, which immediately predated the time he set off on his own.  I hope you like the conclusion.


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## Darkness (Sep 23, 2002)

Very nice (and tragic, too)! 

Heh. I haven't read any Dragonlance stuff for far too long: I had forgotten that those Silvanesti weren't too nice there...


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## Kai Lord (Sep 23, 2002)

Thanks again Darkness.  Most of his adventures had a bittersweet tone to them; its weird to go back and read the story that started it all after all these years.  The campaign itself really stepped it up a notch.  I think I'll post a few adventure sessions to see if that generates any interest.


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## Triumph (Jan 21, 2003)

Nice work.  I like it.


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