Tales from the Land of Mists (Fiction)

[Guardian of Twilight]

As many of you know, it has been some time since last a new Ravenloft novel or a book of short stories graced the shelves of our favorite crowded bookstores. And yet, even though new tales are no longer forthcoming, we have persevered and kept our favorite setting alive, much like the Kargatane that came before us. We ask questions about our favorite land, seeking out others of like mind to share our thoughts with and our projects as well.

From the maniacal to the mundane, romance to Renaissance, DMs and players alike have stretched forth their creative hands and penned their journeys, thoughts, and campaigns for us to read. Some of us even take part in the Evening with the Fraternity, adding new characters to the Land of Mists. Each personae lovingly crafted, and every detail painstakingly laid out from one breath to the next; first to last. There are many people here that carry a wellspring of creativity here on these boards, and I have had the honor and privilege of getting to know some of you. I never cease to be amazed at the level of depth and creativity that emanates from people that play Ravenloft over many of the other settings. It seems that the Domain of Dread has a way of bringing out the best in not only its characters, but its players as well.

And that is why I would like to add something to the boards here, if you will all agree. I am sure that many of you have stories that could be told of the characters that you have here, and I would like to see those stories find a place here on this site. A collection of tales and short stories from us, the players. And that is why I have opened up this thread... to ask those of you that would like to to add your voice to my own, and to set to parchment stories of our own that we would like to share with the other members here on the site.

Here is a story that I have been working on, and I hope that you all enjoy reading it. Now, I shall turn this over to Nathaniel Hawke, a ranger from Mordent and a person that strives to be a point of light in a world that seems determined to quell the flame of his spirit...

[Guardian of Twilight]

He found himself again pushing his horse as fast as he could, trying to get to the churchyard. The moon was full and burned bright above, and the air had the faint touch of winter upon its caress. Yet the young man that thundered along the road did not feel its chill. His brain was on fire, and the blood was pumping madly in his veins. His only thought was to get to the churchyard as quickly as possible.

As the church came into view, it seemed that time slowed down around him. What he saw would be forevermore etched into his memory, haunting his dreams. Up ahead were two forms standing near the door to the church. One form he knew, the other he didn't. No, that wasn't true. As the other form turned, and the brilliant light of the moon fell upon him, he realized that he recognized the face all to well...




Nathan sat up immediately in bed covered in a cold sweat, his whole body shaking. This wasn't the first time he had had this nightmare, a nightmare that had haunted his rest for the last two years. He slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed, pushing the covers away from him. Reaching out, he lifted a pitcher of water and a glass from his bedside table. After willing his hands to stop shaking, he poured himself a glass and made his way over to the window. He looked out at the moon hanging low on the horizon partially obscured by the clouds that gathered near, concealing its light from the world.

"Still a couple of hours before dawn," he muttered in his quiet voice. He looked back at his disheveled bed and decided against trying to fall back asleep, realizing that he would immediately fall back into the memories of events that transpired two ago. Two years ago today as a matter of fact, he suddenly realized. He had been trying to preoccupy his mind with other things for the last week, but he knew as night crept into the world around him that his dreams would not let him forget. Nathan walked back across the room and sat the glass of water back down untouched on the table and began to get dressed. After gathering his belongings and strapping his sword to his side, he made his way over to the door and stepped out into the hall. The corridor of the Weeping Lady was silent, and he made his way quietly down the stairs into the small common room of the inn.

The tables in the small room were lit by lanterns, and a small candle burned on the counter where the guest registry sat opened. He silently made his way over and placed his bags on the floor beside him. The gentleman sitting at the front desk jumped slightly and blinked tired eyes at the man that had just appeared in front of him.

"Heading out this early, young man?" the innkeeper asked him.

Nathan glanced at him for a moment and signed the book, showing that he was indeed leaving. "I have a long way to travel before nightfall. Is there any way that I could get some bread and cheese packed for the road?"

The man eyed him for a moment before stretching and standing up. He rubbed his eyes and nodded, heading back into the kitchen. After a few minutes he appeared again, carrying a package wrapped in brown paper. "I took the liberty of adding a bit of the meat that was left over from last night's meal. Thought it might help to pass the long miles for ya."

Nathan walked over and took the package, handing the man a coin as he did so. The man took it and placed it inside a pocket and gave him a smile. "You be sure to be careful out there now," he said. "Some of the folks that came in after you last night told some pretty wild tales."

"I will, thank you." After picking up the rest of his belongings, he made his way over to the door, which the innkeeper opened for him.

The cool predawn air was a welcome relief to him. The dark thoughts that intruded into his dreams seemed to be pressed back by its cool touch. He made his way over to the stables to get his horse, and set his course for the northern road. The darkness seemed to grow more pronounced as he made his way from the small village and into the forest before him. His horse, feeling the cold dark oppression, nickered at the darkness.

"Easy, Devil. There isn't anything out there," he told the black stallion. At this, the horse turned and cast a reproachful glance at Nathan. He gave a small smile and patted the horse's neck, slowly gazing around at his surroundings. Around him in the weak light he could just make out low lying brush and trees stretching back as far as his eyes could see. The pale light that was managing to filter in from the branches above played tricks with the surrounding terrain. He urged his mount forward, and again they set off on the trail before them. As he made his way deeper into the forest and his eyes adjusted to the dim illumination, he could tell that what he saw had not all been distortions of light. Around him, trees bent at odd angles, and with branches that almost looked like claws reached up menacingly towards the sky above, looking like demented souls clawing up at the heavens demanding an answer from the gods a reason for their torment. An answer that would never come. Now he understood why people stayed away from Lightless Wood. Man was the trespasser here, and nature ruled supreme. The mists hung low to the ground and never dissipated, for the sun's light was never able to penetrate the perpetual gloom. Perhaps it wasn't allowed to. With that odd thought, Nathan pressed his horse into a trot, and kept a wary eye cast around him. He most definitely didn't want to be caught surprised here by anyone. No, anything would be a better way of putting that. He doubted that anyone, even thieves, would be as deep in the forest as he now was.

He traveled for hours before realizing that time for noon meal was upon him, and he gently moved the reins to signal a stop. As he swung his leg over the saddle to lower himself to the ground, from the corner of his eye he caught movement. Quickly dismounting, he reached over and placed his hand reassuringly on the hilt of his longsword. The touch of the cool metal against his hand quickly calmed him and gave him focus. As the creature moved forward through the mist and brush, Nathan got a look at it. The decaying skin was covered in what had at one time been loggers clothes, though long since given way to the elements and themselves begun to decay. The creature of the grave moved quickly with purpose towards him, reaching out with hands that ended in claws. Nathan drew his sword as the creature quickly came near, its hungry mouth slavering out a low moan. With a low word from Nathan, Devil sped away from him to better give him an area to face this creature in.

As it came in nearer him, it slashed out with its claws for his throat. The overpowering stench of decay, death, and worse clung to this creature and followed about it, almost to much to take. Quickly falling back he brought the sword up to parry the swing. Its claws came into contact with the cold steel of the blade and it made another swipe with its other arm. This time he ducked under it and slashed out with his sword. The blade quickly sliced through its skin and produced a yellow ichor whose smell nearly overpowered him. His stomach lurched, yet he was able to maintain his concentration on his foe rather than his churning stomach. Sensing a moment of weakness from its victim, it lunged its body at Nathan. He felt the creature brush against the side of the breastplate that he wore, and almost too late spun out of its way. As it passed by him he slashed at it yet again with the sword, and again that yellow fluid began to flow, soaking the tattered garments that it had once wore in life. It landed nimbly on its feet and quickly came at him again. This time he was too slow as it ripped open his sleeve and arm in one cruel slash, and he felt a paralyzing chill wash over him for a moment. His mind yelled at him to move, and he was barely able to comply to the silent scream in his head. He could feel the chill from its claw as it passed where he had been only a heartbeat before.

Fumbling at his belt pouch, he pulled out a glass flask filled with water sanctified by the church of Ezra and launched it at the creature. Its fragile glass shattered upon the ghast's flesh, and a howl of unearthly rage and pain tore forth from the creature's throat as the holy water burned the abomination that it struck. Nathan took this brief reprieve to step in close to the creature and sever its head from its shoulders. He again quickly scanned the area around him, looking for any other threats. Seeing none, he gave a whistle to bring Devil back to him. He walked over to his saddlebag and drew out the healer's kit he had purchased a few weeks back. He tended to his injured arm, and satisfied that no serious harm had been done applied a salve and bandage. Then he repacked the bag and set back off on the trail. Apparently, lunch would have to wait. He picked up his pace as much as he dared, knowing that he would have to ride hard if he was going to make it out of the forest before nightfall. As he rode on, he missed the figure garbed in a dark cloak step out after he had passed. The figure gave a crooked smile.

"It looks as though he will make it out of the Wood tonight after all. I don't think that any more tests of his abilities will be needed for now. But do let him know that Mr. Hawke is coming. He will be most pleased to hear that."

[Joël of the FoS]

Intriguing start !

Please go on. Just curious, what kind of undead was it? Have anything in mind, or was it left unspecified?

Joël

[Guardian of Twilight]

Intriguing start !

Please go on. Just curious, what kind of undead was it? Have anything in mind, or was it left unspecified?

Joël

Heh, it was a ghast.

*carefully rechecks spelling*

Just making sure I didn't say, "It was a gas."

[Guardian of Twilight]

Two days had passed since Nathan had made his way out of the Lightless Wood, and ever since a mournful rain had blanketed the land. He sat around the campfire, listening to the rain fall on the hot embers and watching the wind cause the flames to dance slowly in their bed. The stars were hidden from his sight, just when he could have used their gentle glow most. When he was a boy, his mother had told him that the stars were the spirits of loved ones that had preceded those they left behind. Their radiance and presence reminding those still resting beneath the heavens that they would always be there, watching over them. It gave him a great deal of comfort, and after his grandfather's funeral he turned his eyes to the shining night sky. There, above his window, he had seen a star that shined brighter than the others. And deep in the recesses of his heart, he knew that his grandfather watched over and guided him still.

But that was all just childish fancy, wasn't it? Hadn't science progressed, revealing all the secrets of the world, and those of the eternal stars above? Why then after Sarah's funeral did he once more seek their guidance; why did he seek the light of her soul shining forth from the velvety ribbon of night?

He reached once more into his coat and pulled out the letter he had received while on the road from Richemulot. The letter had been sealed with Sarah's family crest, and the penmanship was that of her father, Isaac. It had taken Nathan a day before he found the courage to actually open the letter and read its contents. They had not parted on the best of terms two years ago. Her father still blamed him for Sarah's death, and even the word of the Anchorites and that of Father Daniels could not dissuade his wrath or accusations. Her mother Abigail and younger sister Rachel did their best to keep him calm and tell him that Nathan was incapable of doing such a thing, but his grief ran too deep. Pain took up residence in his heart, and he turned a deaf ear to all that stood in defense of Nathan.

And so Nathan withdrew from the people of Mordentshire. He took to roaming the lands around him, and one day came across a lone Vistani that was journeying across his father's lands to reach his tribe's camp. It was there that Nathan learned the ways of the land and how to speak patterna and read tralaks, and it was there where he had purchased Devil. It wasn't long after that that he went back to his home, gathered up what he would need, and set out on his own to help those that had suffered as he had. He had swore to himself that so long as his body yet drew breath that he would do what he could to help those in need. He wandered the western Core, in a state of self exile. It took him a while to realize that he was seeking forgiveness in Isaac's eyes. But the problem lie in the fact that Nathan felt he was not worthy of forgiveness. How could he ask someone else to do so when he could not yet even forgive himself?

And then the letter came, asking him to come home. His eyes fell back over the words once more...

[Guardian of Twilight]

September 21, 758


Nathaniel,


I believe that I should start off by apologizing for the way I treated you after Sarah's funeral. I have finally come to understand that you were indeed not to blame for my daughter's death, and should never have acted as I did. I am hoping that you will be able to forgive my outbursts and return home to Mordentshire soon after receiving this message. There is something of Sarah's that my wife and I feel that you should have.



Respectfully,
Isaac Laydon


There was more in the letter that came before Isaac's message written in Abigail's hand, speaking of other matters such as family and friends, yet it was this one paragraph that her husband wrote that kept drawing his eyes back. He gently folded the letter up and placed it back into its envelope and proceeded to stare deeply into the flames as his mind wandered over those words, trying to figure out what it was that her family wanted to give him of Sarah's. He sat there for a couple of hours before he realized how late it was getting to be and made his way over to his bedroll and began rolling it out then stacked more wood on the fire, so that it would last until dawn and then turned in, letting his dreams carry him away from his thoughts...




The figure turned and Nathan's blood froze in his veins as he stumbled from the saddle. There, with his arms around Sarah, was Nathan himself. His mind reeled from shock, trying to make sense of what his eyes were telling him. This other form smiled a slow, cruel smile and in the light of the silver moon above, Nathan could see small tendrils of Mist emanating from the figure's mouth.

Forcing his voice to make a sound, he shouted for her. A puzzled look came over her face as she turned to see who this person was shouting her name. Her look of confusion was quickly replaced by one of horror as she saw the person that was holding her coming up from behind them. She turned back to the being in front of her, and began to recoil from its embrace.

Nathan ran forward and saw her attempt to pull away, but the arms held her fast. She screamed and pulled an arm free, reaching for Nathan who was running up to save her. This creature that wore the visage of her betrothed used one hand to turn her face to his as she struggled to break free. Nathan was only a few feet away now and she pulled free for a moment, but this creature moved with incredible speed and caught her by the wrist and jerked her back to him. A look of desperation crossed her face and she turned pleading eyes towards Nathan, reaching out for him as the creature again placed his hand under her chin.

Then his world shattered as the creature gave one sharp jerk of its arm and a horrible sound filled the night. Nathan fell to his knees with a cry as her body fell to the ground, her eyes never leaving his. The creature slowly advanced towards him now, a mocking smile upon its lips. Then the lower jaw dropped even more and a gaping hole of eternal darkness met his eyes. From the creature's maw came a shriek of victory and challenge. Nathan's heart thundered in his ears then stopped, and it seemed an eternity before it began beating again. His vision swam up to that of the moon, and then the ground rushed up to meet him. The last things that he saw were the feet of her murderer moving up beside him and the light leaving Sarah's eyes... eyes that even now looked at him with a pleading, helpless look. Then, merciful darkness took him.