A Crisis of Faith

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Alak Xiltyn
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A Crisis of Faith

Post by Alak Xiltyn »

While this is my second post on the forums I have chosen to make this one my introduction and will in time tell the full story of Alak Xiltyn, a character who started out as an infant rescued from being offered as a sacrifice to Lolth by a character my real world father was playing at the time of my birth but you'll pick all of that up through the course of the story.

I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors and miss spellings, I am disgraphic and rely heavily on phonetics for the spelling of words.

Part 1:

The wind whistled slightly through the eye-slits in Alak's helmet, behind the metal mask his red eyes, the flame of his dark vision long ago put out by his years on the surface, gazed for the first time in his 145 years on the form of another Drow. Alak's mind flew back to the stories his adoptive father had told him of his kinsmen and the underdark and for a moment he doubted he was ready for what he was about to face.

Tightening his grip on the Greatsword in his hands Alak set himself for the attack he was sure would soon come and yet the woman facing him remain motionless, her slender form easily visible under the full moon, something was wrong, as a Paladin Alak find evil better then he could find north but there was no evil coming from the woman he faced.

Again his mind darted by to the lessons of his father, he recalled him saying that mages could cast spells to hide their nature, good or evil, and that there were magical items that could do the same but the woman standing just a few feet away did not have any such items as the pale moonlight made it clear to see that she was naked and held only a bastard sword, not only that but she posessed a hardness of body that very few spellcasters could boast. Something simply wasn't right.
Last edited by Alak Xiltyn on Wed Jan 17, 2007 7:48 am, edited 1 time in total.
"Let us read, and let us dance; these two amusements will never do any harm to the world." - Voltaire
Alak Xiltyn
Regular
Posts: 280
Joined: Fri Aug 04, 2006 11:32 am
Location: Nebraska
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Post by Alak Xiltyn »

"Father Angus will make a bard out of you if I don't keep a better eye on you my boy." Alak's adoptive father smiled up at him from below the tree, the many battles scars on the aging Paladin's face seemed to all come into line when he smiled, even the slightest upturn in the corners of the man's mouth created the illusion that he was grinning from ear to ear.

Alak climbed down from the tree, the lute he had borrowed from Father Angus held carefully in his free hand. "Then again with a voice like yours perhaps the change would suit you?" His father's tone only half joking. Although Paladins are often thought of as gruff and humorless Alak's father was anything but, his jokes were always good natured and never physical.

"Pranks," he explained to Alak long ago, "are belittling and often hurt more than just the body, even if that much was not the intent. A properly worded joke, or a well timed remark can bring joy to everyone who hears it, and in that, my son, there is no evil. The fine line a Paladin must walk is no the burden many of our brothers make it out to be, it is in fact, a gift." the elderly, though still very fit, man did not even pause for his young pupil to ask. "It is a gift because we, as Paladins, have more to lose by not pushing ourselves to stand taller than those around us, for if we do not everything we are, everything that separates us from common ruffians, disappears." He paused and sighed. "I suppose it comes down to a greed of sorts, it's a paradox that has long troubled me and I imagine that it is why I have seen nearly as many brothers and sisters felled by their own greed for greater power as by the swords of our foes."

Standing there on the ground Alak much preferred the silly grin to the furrowed brow he so often saw in there lessons. Often his father would ramble on about what it meant to be a Paladin speaking as much to himself as to Alak, as though fighting his own inner battles with the words he spoke. "It is but a distraction." Alak said. "You told me to find something that made me feel at peace, singing and, when I can, playing are for me what your jokes are to you." Alak's own smile was quite large. "I mean to be a Paladin, to travel the world and fight evil where ever I find it." Youthful exhuberance would have had him break into a great speech on the dragons he would slay and of the fiends he would bring low were it not for the look his father gave him.

"Where ever?" the old man arched an eyebrow at him. "And what if "where ever" happens to take you to the underdark? Your kin are not pleasent folk and would hunt you without mercy, and thats assuming that they do not know you are Drow." Alak never liked the word, he had first heard it from another little boy raised in the same seculded monastery. The child had lost his entire family in a Drow raid and when he first saw Alak, sitting alone under the very same tree he now stood beneath, began screaming "DROW! DROW!" and hurling stones at him.

In time things changed, Alak understood the boy's fear once his father explained it to him, he even felt guilty for not been there to protect the boy's family though he knew even at that young aged that had he been there, fully grown and weilding his father's Greatsword at his evil kin he would be dead, dead or far FAR worse. In time the other boy managed to push past their differences and even struck up a friendship and when the time came for his friend to leave the monastery Alak mourned his loss.

"When will it be my time to set out?" Alak asked, he knew full and well his father would judge when he was ready and expected him to answer with just that. "After the spring thaw once the passes have cleared of snow." Alak would have laughed thinking his father's statment a joke but there was something in his expression, a mix of joy, pain and dread that made Alak think that something had already been set in motion and that, whether he wanted to or not, he would be gone before the next summer.
"Let us read, and let us dance; these two amusements will never do any harm to the world." - Voltaire
Alak Xiltyn
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Posts: 280
Joined: Fri Aug 04, 2006 11:32 am
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Post by Alak Xiltyn »

"Remember always, never let people know what you are, keep that hidden away, as a Paladin in full plate armor all will see you and know the truth of you, that you are a force of righteousness, without your armor, without it they will see only drow which you are by birth alone."

His father's last words to him were in his ears as Alak packed the last of his supplies into his saddlebags. Alak's adoptive father had passed away in his sleep nearly a month prior, Alak had found him that morning, cold but for the first time, at peace. Alak was certain his father would have rather died in a glorious battle, leading a galant charge or in a desperate last stand, Alak however prefered the peace a quiet death gave his father, a peace he had fought long and hard for.

Alak and a number of the younger members of the monastery were setting out to assist a local village in driving away a Goblin tribe that had settled too close by. Alak, two Monks, a young fighter who acted as Alak's Squire though the young man was an excellent warrior in his own right and a Cleric of Helm, an impressive show of force considering that the Goblins seemed more interested in making a deal than fighting.

The Cleric, an eager young man sent as a messanger from the village had attacked Alak when he arrived, thinking that the Drow had attacked. His mace never came close to Alak before Father Angus had taken it from him and dropped the confused Cleric onto his hind end.

One of the monks, Jastra, a Moon Elf a little younger than him, had suggested he wrap his body in bandages and Alak agreed, although he doubted it would do much more than make him extremly warm it would put the young woman's mind at ease. Ever since they were children she had fawned over him, he too had feelings for her, though he did his best to hide them and told himself that he had given into her pressure about the bandages so that she would be able to focus in the fighting that was sure to come. He often doubted she had the mental discipline that a monk needs but her heart was certainly in the right place.

The other Monk, Devin, a follower of Tyr, was the very image of a Monk, only speaking when what he had to say needed to be heard and answering questions with a single, though polite, word.

Alak mounted his horse, glanced at Phelan, his "squire", who gave him a quick grin to the Cleric who stilled looked on him with fear then to Devin who gave in a slight nod and lastly to Jastra who flsuhed slightly but grinned ear to ear none the less. He patted his horse and spured it slightly and they were off.
"Let us read, and let us dance; these two amusements will never do any harm to the world." - Voltaire
Alak Xiltyn
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Posts: 280
Joined: Fri Aug 04, 2006 11:32 am
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Post by Alak Xiltyn »

Alak sat alone in the room he and the others had rented in the Drunken Goblin Inn, Alak had to stifle a laugh when he saw the sign, Phelan however nearly fell from his horse with laughter. He sat quietly, drenched in sweat, reflecting on the days events.

Earlier in the day Alak and his companions had dealt with the Goblins... in particular one very drunk Goblin chief. After introducing himslef and making it clear that they were not there to slaughter the entire goblin tribe Alak spent the rest of the day running back and forth between the village and the tribe trying to figure out exactly where the Goblins could settle. With it desided Alak and the others headed once more into the village and rented the one and only room.

A knock at the door shook Alak from his thoughts, he had removed the bandages from his face and so reached for his helmet. Before his hand was even halfway to his helm the door swung open and Jastra stepped into the room, her face was flush and her step far from steady. She stared down at him, wavering slightly, clearly trying to gather the words to say something and just as clearly failing. Alak opened his mouth to say something but found his mouth covered by hers.

When she finally pulled away she wrinckled her nose. "You stink," she said, a crooked grin on her face, "I think it's time we change those bandages and get you a bath." Alak frowned. "It's time Jastra, that you got some sleep." He slipped past her and grabbed his cloak, pulling the hood low over his face and strapping his sword across his back. "You're right about one thing though, I need a bath." with that he crept out of the Inn and into the darkness.

Twenty minutes later he finally found the stream he had seen earlier in the day. The waters were clear and cool and Alak enjoyed being free of the bandages. Earlier in the day Alak and the others had discussed what their next move should be, the Goblins had done no wrong yet but something about them had raised an alarm, the Cleric who's name, like that of the village, Alak had yet to learn, knew a ranger in the area who would be willing to keep an eye on the tribe.

Again he was pulled from his thoughts, this time by the sound of someone walking up behind him. "Jastra, I really think it's best you get some sleep." The creak of a bow being drawn back told him that it was not Jastra.
"Let us read, and let us dance; these two amusements will never do any harm to the world." - Voltaire
Alak Xiltyn
Regular
Posts: 280
Joined: Fri Aug 04, 2006 11:32 am
Location: Nebraska
Contact:

Post by Alak Xiltyn »

"I swear Alak," an old familiar voice said. "you are the only person I know of who would risk his life for a bath." Alak found himself chuckling. "I'm also the only person you know of for whom taking a bath without guards posted at every door and window is an enormous risk..." Alak paused "unless of course you're befriend some other dark elf when you were romping around the country-side while I was waisting away in the monastery."

Alak twisted his head far enough around to see his old friend's sun tanned face. Rodrigo looked scruffier than ever, his hair was by and large long in length but had patches of shorter hair, jagged from a beast's claws or razor straight from some bandit's rapier and his patchy beard obviously hadn't been shaved in weeks. Alak cocked his head to the side. "Had a bit of a rough patch of late have we?"

Rodrigo loosed his arrow into the water a few inches from Alak's legs. "Oh." Alak chuckled. "it's going to be one of THOSE nights is it?" Alak swept up cloak and took up his sword as Rodrigo drew his twin short swords. Gripping his cloak in one hand Alak let his greatsword rest across his shoulder he grinned drawing a strange look. "Either you've gotten a hell of a lot strong or you've gone crazier than ever, you do know you can't use that with one hand.... right?"
"Let us read, and let us dance; these two amusements will never do any harm to the world." - Voltaire
Alak Xiltyn
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Posts: 280
Joined: Fri Aug 04, 2006 11:32 am
Location: Nebraska
Contact:

Post by Alak Xiltyn »

"Your move old friend." Alak grinned, knowing exactly what would come next. The two of them had grown up together in the monastery, infact Rodrigo was the little boy who had pelted him with rocks all those years ago, and Alak knew well how his old friend fought.

The short human sprang foreward, swords held in a reverse grip and ducked to Alak's left, the same as ever, Rodrigo would feign a slash to Alak's midsection with his right hand blade while the real attack came toward Alak's neck with his left hand. as soon as Alak saw the feigned attack moving he slapped the end of his cloak around his old friend's arm, trapping that blade to Rodrigo's wrist while while ducking under the real attack before wrapping the midsection of the cloak around the small man's forearm.

Rodrigo realized his mistake just soon enough to realize what came next, Alak only chuckled as he kicked his friend square in the ass while tugging his cloak loose from Rodrigo's arms sending the ranger spinning into the cool waters of the stream. Rodrigo sat there, arms across his chest and shook his head. "How is it that I spend years in the wilderness fighting people who are actually trying to kill me while you wasted away with those preists and somehow you still beat me?" He sat there for a few moments while Alak dressed himself.

"Well," he tilted his head "are you going to answer my question or what?" Alak pulled on his shirt and settled his cloak across his shoulders before pulling up the hood. "Because you never change, you begin every fight the exact same way, feign right, swing left. I'm sure you've gotten better and if I hadn't ended it when I had I would be the one in the river right now, and likely a bit worse for wear than you are." Rodrigo stood and rung the water out of his cloak before retrieving his weapons. "Well, whats next?"
"Let us read, and let us dance; these two amusements will never do any harm to the world." - Voltaire
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