The Journey
Sol Blackstar had a long road ahead of him. He was currently leaving Serinn, heading towards Copperwell, now the capital of the Dwarven Confederation after the fall of Anhold. Prince Blackstar had spent the last 18 months searching for Lorgun, Capt. of the orcish war party responsible for the destruction of Dol Geldar. The search was primarily in vain, yet it had rewarded Sol with many new friends and actual experience of the world. Sol set off with a heavy heart. His friendships had been forged with the spilling of blood and tempered by continuous threats on their lives, and they were some of the strongest bonds Sol had ever experienced. These humans had provided Sol with a reason to continue despite his despair.
It was that despair and now the dread of what was to come that pulled heavy at Sol's heart. He felt that the world was somehow undergoing a great change. His mind was hardly with him as he traveled. The memories of the not so distant past haunted him. Sol watched his father die over and over again. During these dreams Sol would fight against the force keeping him from his father's side during the battle but to no avail. There was nothing Sol could to help his father, to save him. Sol's mind had already accepted the fact that his father had passed on, but now with the quiet of the road, his heart would not let him forget.
His eyes soon began to show the signs of his nightly struggles. Sol knew he would need to do something about the nightmares, but he had no idea what. He passed many small towns along his way to Copperwell. About a month outside of Santa Densagg he decided to stopp and rest at the Leaky Cauldron for the night. His body exhausted, his mind withdrawn, his heart heavy with grief, Sol slipped into the inn. Once inside, Sol slumped into a seat near the corner of the bar. He ordered a pint of the inn's strongest ale and a plate of fresh beef and potatoes, his first real meal in over a month. Those in the bar left the dwarf alone, mistaking the grief in his eyes for anger. There was only one besides the bar tender who approached, a frail man he was, barely taller than the dwarf. The man quietly asked, "Do you mind if I take this seat Prince Blackstar?" Sol looked up suddenly, startled at the appearance of the old man, dressed in road-worn robes, torn here and there with mis-use. The cowl of the robes had been brought forward, completely hiding the old man's face. Gruffly Sol replied, "Suit yourself, you will recieve no joy from my company tonight." The old man took the seat next to Sol, ignoring the weary dwarves last comment. Sol sat muttering over his beer, complaining of its weakness and the length of the trip before him.
Sol Blackstar had a long road ahead of him. He was currently leaving Serinn, heading towards Copperwell, now the capital of the Dwarven Confederation after the fall of Anhold. Prince Blackstar had spent the last 18 months searching for Lorgun, Capt. of the orcish war party responsible for the destruction of Dol Geldar. The search was primarily in vain, yet it had rewarded Sol with many new friends and actual experience of the world. Sol set off with a heavy heart. His friendships had been forged with the spilling of blood and tempered by continuous threats on their lives, and they were some of the strongest bonds Sol had ever experienced. These humans had provided Sol with a reason to continue despite his despair.
It was that despair and now the dread of what was to come that pulled heavy at Sol's heart. He felt that the world was somehow undergoing a great change. His mind was hardly with him as he traveled. The memories of the not so distant past haunted him. Sol watched his father die over and over again. During these dreams Sol would fight against the force keeping him from his father's side during the battle but to no avail. There was nothing Sol could to help his father, to save him. Sol's mind had already accepted the fact that his father had passed on, but now with the quiet of the road, his heart would not let him forget.
His eyes soon began to show the signs of his nightly struggles. Sol knew he would need to do something about the nightmares, but he had no idea what. He passed many small towns along his way to Copperwell. About a month outside of Santa Densagg he decided to stopp and rest at the Leaky Cauldron for the night. His body exhausted, his mind withdrawn, his heart heavy with grief, Sol slipped into the inn. Once inside, Sol slumped into a seat near the corner of the bar. He ordered a pint of the inn's strongest ale and a plate of fresh beef and potatoes, his first real meal in over a month. Those in the bar left the dwarf alone, mistaking the grief in his eyes for anger. There was only one besides the bar tender who approached, a frail man he was, barely taller than the dwarf. The man quietly asked, "Do you mind if I take this seat Prince Blackstar?" Sol looked up suddenly, startled at the appearance of the old man, dressed in road-worn robes, torn here and there with mis-use. The cowl of the robes had been brought forward, completely hiding the old man's face. Gruffly Sol replied, "Suit yourself, you will recieve no joy from my company tonight." The old man took the seat next to Sol, ignoring the weary dwarves last comment. Sol sat muttering over his beer, complaining of its weakness and the length of the trip before him.
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