Curtain

Delicate, gold and silver notes swirled around the palace of Lady Cumulus. Aelen closed his eyes and enjoyed the music floating around him like a stray breeze. He heard the sound of his own boots on the polished floor and noted the difference in his stride. His steps were as measured and sure as they had ever been, they but rang on the marble with a note of confidence. His hair was washed and brushed and shone like polished gold in the daylight and bright silks wrapped his body. But the ribbons and sashes were layered over the black iron armor that had protected him in the Unwild. The long, gracefully curved sword on his back had known blood.

His silver eyes opened again and he smiled at the court around him. Warlocks, scholars, warriors and troubadours gathered around. Each Eladrin inclined their head with a smile, acknowledging him. Fey courtiers flashed smiles of their own. He saw Lord Butterfly and Lord Aspen in attendance. Aelen Stratos reached the center of the gilded room and dropped to one knee. A faint wind stirred the dangling ends of the cloud-silk scarf around his neck.

“Your art?”

Aelen smiled at Lady Cumulus. “I traveled to the Unwild and met brave companions. We fell into a mystery – a deadly threat from their recent past. There were savage beasts, horrifying undead monsters, and terrible magic. Together, we fought and triumphed.”

“Yes,” The Fey Lady said.

“Every battle was done in your name, and every battle was a test of my skill. Each cut and slice was as beautiful as I could make it.”

“Your art?”

Stratos smiled as he thought of all he had seen and done. Sasha, Leilia and Argent… There was so much more to the adventure than swordsmanship…and all of it beautiful. He felt the touch of Lady Cumulus in his thoughts.

At an invisible signal the music began again and a warm breeze feathered Aelen’s cheeks. He rose as the court began to applaud. With the patronage of Lady Cumulus there would be a position at court, and plenty of gold to pay for books and stories of the Unwild. There were other performances out there…other adventures to be had.

Offstage

Aelen thought that the performance was going well. He came to the Unwild to seek an adventure, an arena where he could use his dueling skills against real foes and dangers. Stratos had a great respect for the Eladrin army, but the art of blade dancers and sword artists went beyond their practical grace.

The young virtuoso was delighted that the Gods had delivered him a great quest. This performance went beyond mere sword dances and duels, and added a layer of mystery to be unraveled. It would be a performance in more ways than one. Of course, Stratos was trained with a blade, and he knew that he would need these companions to do more than just compliment his performance. They had roles of their own in discovering more about this necromancer and in defeating her.

In particular, Leilia was proving to be entertaining. What luck that they should rescue a person who knew her way around the great library of Perrington and who was adept at sifting parchment and pages for the knowledge they sought. And for all she professed that she was not the rival of Stratos, she took every opportunity to engage him in a duel of wits, an art she was much more proficient in than battle.

Aelen admired her. For all her great youth, she was warlock to a powerful figure in the Elemental Courts, and her magical skill was commendable. Her love of books had given her an education as extensive, if not as formal, as Eladrin schooling and her mind was keen. Her vorpal tongue and penchant for thievery and lies added spice to the adventure. And she was not at all unattractive. Stratos wondered if the teifling would consider a liaison.

But Stratos was beginning to enjoy himself even when they were not busy investigating this new necromancer, fighting her minions, or tweaking Lady Vestae’s servant. Argent had shown an unprecedented interest in the arts, perhaps inspired by Aelen’s style and eye for beauty. He found the human play interesting, especially as it was about the fall of the empire of the dragonborn. Their carved wooden masks were intricately done, with each scale carved deeply into the wood, with every fang and frill standing out. Long silken cords served as dragonborn tendrils and each mask was painted in bright colors so it could be seen by the furthest spectators. The actors voices boomed through the masks and Stratos was delighted. While masks might have muffled the voices of the players like a helmet, the dragon-like snouts were carved like horns, to enhance their voices and deepen them. With only a slight suspension of disbelief, one might be looking at real dragonborn actors on the stage. If only they had taken more care to make their blade-work uphold the drama as well.

He found the party afterwards just as intriguing. It wasn’t very lavish; they had probably spent less than one of those strange gold coins they used with pictures of human heads on them. The food, however, was new and strange, much richer than the simple fare they had been served in Aberholme, and music was exotic and exciting.

Stratos spent some time rubbing Leilia the wrong way, but for most of the evening he found himself circling Sasha like the bright flame she appeared as.

There was a gentle rapping at the door. She was here at last. Stratos looked himself over in the mirror once more. His golden-blonde hair fell down his back, a neat braid laying against the blanket of hair. He had chosen to wear a pair of loose, flowing trousers of silk in a sea blue, with a wide sash of darker blue around his waist.

“Come in,” he called.

Sasha seemed also to have dressed ready both for sport and beauty. Her leggings were loose pants, slit open on the sides with a tie at the hip, knee, and ankle, holding them from flying open, but leaving her leg visible from top to bottom. The hem of her shirt was just under her breasts, showing Aelen the familiar sight of her toned stomach, and it tied behind her neck, leaving her arms and back bare. She brought her sword with her and Aelen looked at the simple blade. It was well cared for, but plain. A long straight sword, sharpened on both sides, unadorned by etchings or any other decoration. It was perhaps two-thirds the length of Aelen’s longer, gently curved sword. Even the scabbard was plain; well oiled brown leather without marking or embellishment.

“Good evening, Sasha. Come and stand next to me and face the mirror.” He stepped aside and made room for her. They stood in front of the mirror and Stratos took a moment to appreciate the effect; Sasha in red and he in blue, their hair a matching gold. He lifted his sword in one hand to match her style and he began.

Stratos wasn’t sure why Sasha was so driven to change the perception the people of the Unwild seemed to have of teiflings. It was reasonable enough to wish that she and her people could be respected. Stratos himself had met with some suspicion from Sasha herself, because his people had little business in the Unwild, and most of what brought them here, the people did not understand. He smiled at the mild hypocrisy of Sasha’s initial reaction to him as he shifted the point of his sword to bring it into a position that both guarded him and drew a line of silver between him and his reflection. Sasha mimicked him, taking a moment longer to find the position herself. When she did, the gleaming edge made a radiant line in front of her.

Stratos slipped the point of his sword to offer his imaginary opponent an opening, a lure to draw them in. He watched Sasha, wondering why she seemed to take her quest so personally. Her goal was understandable, but she was so invested in it that Leilia’s very nature - secretive, shifty, and to hell with it - drove her to shouting. Stratos thought that the Guardsman might even throw herself at the younger girl in anger. But at the same time, when Sasha was young, she had someone cut off her tail on purpose, and even now she plated her horns in gold. At first glance it was sometimes hard to tell that she was a teifling at all. It was almost as if she did not want to be one of the people that she was so intent on elevating in public opinion.

He shrugged to himself. He wasn’t certain he would ever understand the people of the Unwild, no matter how many questions he asked.

“No, no, forgive me,” He said, as Sasha imitated his shrug. “I was only shrugging.”

“At what?” she asked.

“My thoughts.” He smiled at her, but she was looking at him, apparently unsatisfied with his answer. As she usually was. He chose not to air his sigh out loud, lest he confuse her more.

“Try this guard position, Sasha. It will make you look very bold and imposing.” Stratos held his sword over his head, tip pointing over his head like the tail of a maticore.

Aelen resolved to try to understand her motives better. He liked Sasha and the others. If she thought it important to present an awe-inspiring vision of a teifling, then he would help her.

A Commentary on the Necromancer War By Argus Tanglebeard

Though the Necromancer War lasted for less than a year, it would have a tremendous impact in, not only the Kingdom of Umberlyne, but the neighboring kingdoms as well. Indeed, ripples from the Necromancer war were felt all across our world. New species of undead creatures were loosed into the world, and terrible beings who only manifested occasionally, were now encountered with greater frequency. Even now, forty years later, the impact can be felt in many ways, not the least of which has been the birth of the tradition of cremation for the dead and the dissolution of the Necromancers Guild.

The war itself was characterized by mistaken assumptions and unpreparedness, particularly in the early battles. In hindsight, the lead-up to the war seems obvious, yet the key figures of the time missed several important warning signs.

The rise of Gavin the Fair to the seat of Guild Master was a minor scandal at the time, but had much greater import. His methods were not only slanderous, but ruthless, as he systematically ostracized and cut off the previous Guild Master from his supporters. Unsubstantiated rumors imply that during his campaign for the Master’s seat key supporters of his rival disappeared. Perhaps most foretelling was Gavin’s platform of advanced research. Until the time of the Necromancer War, their guild had performed a scholarly and utilitarian function, and had much less influence in the affairs of Umberlyne than the more powerful parent guild of the wizards, or the Guardsmen Guild.

Gavin the Fair emphasized research into necromantic powers and beings, advocating deeper research into the celestial beings governing death, the process by which undead rose in the wild, and their powers. He claimed that the Necromancers Guild was being held back. But at that time, the Guild performed its functions perfectly: Raising the dead with respect and the permission of the deceased or their family for use in hazardous mining and construction, and even defense of the city, and the study of dangerous undead which rose outside the control of the guild, offering means and ways for the Guardsmen to dispatch them and safeguard Umberlyne. What more did the Necromancers need?

Power. Gavin made the search for greater power and prestige very apparent in his campaign for leadership of the guild, yet at the time no one thought to question to what use this power would be put.

After he won the Guild Master’s chair, things appeared to return to normal. The guild continued to perform its functions and the change in leadership had no external effect on the society of Umberlyne.

But as much as four months before the onset of the war, the Necromancers Guild became suspect in suspicious activities. Over the five years that Gavin the Fair was Guild Master of the Necromancers, communications between the Necromancers and Mages Guilds dropped forty percent without notice. But if their increasing secrecy went unnoticed, the grave robbery and the rise in disappearances amongst vagrants and travelers did not. However, it took months for the Guardsmen to link these events to agents of the Necromancers Guild with even the most tenuous threads.

Finally, the people of Umberlyne had enough. Some historians argue that it was pressure on the king from the Wizards Guild to shut down their rival; that the mages were threatened by the smaller guild’s advancement and feared that the organization that was once no more than a branch of their own guild would grow to outshine them. Others cite the Churches’ outrage at the treatment of the dead. Some accounts even claim that the crackdown on the Necromancers was instigated by a group of wealthy merchants and nobles whose wives had “run afoul” of Gavin the Fair. Whatever the pressures and circumstances leading up to it, the King decreed that the Necromancers Guild would be dissolved.

Making the inn forever famous, the King and his advisors commandeered the Blazing Hearth tavern as headquarters for the confrontation. Here, Umberlyne first underestimated the Necromancers Guild. A small contingent of Guardsmen planned and led the approach, but relied on contracted mercenaries, and few of them even of the Shining Blades, as back up. Most of these non-guild enforcers would find themselves not up to the challenge, with some few notable exceptions.

The Guardsmen approached the Guildhall’s front doors to present the charges and to arrest every single Necromancer. Small groups of mercenaries and hired blades were stationed around the Guildhall to prevent the escape of anyone who fled and as backup if needed, but note that each group was only a small handful of warriors with only one Shining Blade for every five without guild training.

The Guardsmen instantly met with fierce resistance and summoned their back up. The fighting ranged from room to room and corridor to corridor inside the Guildhall. Necromancer acolytes and servitors put up unexpectedly organized resistance and the fully trained Guardsmen were given pause. An arrest that was expected to be carried out within the hour, instead took until well past dawn before all of the Necromancers were rounded up or slain.

It was during what would later be recognized as the first battle of the Necromancer War that three independent soldiers would distinguish themselves and place their mark on history. Led by the Dragonborn Palladin Rianna, one of the small groups penetrated deeper into the chambers beneath the Guildhall than the Guardsmen, who were being stymied on the first level. With Jordan of the Shining Blade and Kray Toryn, they attacked from the eastern face of the Guildhall.

All of the Necromancers resisted arrest, fighting to the death, and Rianna’s band pressed onwards, hoping to find and capture Gavin the Fair. In what seemed to be the lowest chamber of the Guildhall (another assumption by the Guardsmen, and one that would prove to their sorrow in later months), they encountered a Necromancer performing a ritual never seen before. Though they were able to kill the Necromancer and her acolytes, she rose almost instantly as a powerful undead mage, a being which would come to be known as a lich.

While Rianna, Kray, and Jordan survived the ordeal and vanquished the lich, both they, and the Guardsmen and wizards who occupied the Guildhall afterwards, failed to recognize the importance of the ruby that was the centerpiece of the ritual. Rianna and her band would come to face this lich three times before the secret of the phylactery was discovered and she was permanently killed.

After that night, the King declared that the Necromancers Guild was no more. All functions of that guild returned to the Wizards and the Guardsmen announced that the necromancers were defeated. The manhunt for Gavin the Fair, who somehow escaped the attack on the Guildhall, was considered mere mopping up by the Guardsmen.

Their ignorance would not last for long, however, and Gavin soon returned to make Umberlyne aware that it was at war.

However, out of this first battle, important lessons were learned. Though taken by surprise by the return of Gavin (who would quickly come to be known as “the Terrible”) and his undead forces, the Guardsmen learned not to underestimate him.

This first skirmish also saw the appearance of new heroes; Rianna and Kray Toryn, who would rise through the ranks in Umberlyne and lead several important battles. Their battlefield proposal and marriage has lived on in songs as well as history. Jordan of the Shining Blade would also appear again and again in the war, continuing her partnership with Rianna and Kray and establishing the effectiveness of small-unit tactics against the Necromancers. Her seduction and attempted assassination of Gavin are well-known.

But at the time of the return of Gavin the Terrible and the second battle of the Necromancer War, this trio of new heroes were still unimportant foot soldiers…

Adventure and Intrigue

Though the Unwild, with its strange customs and new experiences, was difficult for Stratos, he left Aberholme feeling pleased. They had rescued someone else, a young tiefling girl and now he felt that the cast was complete.

To welcome any more companions would dilute the performance, but each of the adventurers on the road with him now contributed uniquely to the performance. He was particularly excited about Leilia, the newest companion. She was a tiefling, like Sasha, and she provided perfect counterpoint to her. Where Sasha was noble to a fault, vigorous and forward, Leilia was furtive and timid, quick to flinch and slow to trust. She was every inch the shiftless and untrustworthy tiefling stereotype that Sasha was trying to change. Aelen was sure that the two of them would lock horns, black against gold, many times. Sasha’s intense plea to show the Unwild a better kind of tiefling and her enraged outburst were beautiful. Such drama! And all of it perfectly real and unfeigned.

Leilia seemed indifferent to Sasha’s quest, but respectful of her anger. Still, she was secretive by nature, resisting every effort to learn who she was. Aelen pried into her eagerly, excited at having another mystery. To his delight, he discovered that she was a warlock, and that her pact tied her to Lady Vestae! Lady Vestae, duchess of fire. She was known to Aelen and to most of the Feywild as an inciteful and fractious elemental. Even among the Fire Courts, she burned at the fringe. Her feud with Lady Cumulus was as famous as it was mysterious; no Eladrin knew how it began, and no elemental shared their knowledge.

The young warlock had been sent to Aberholme to investigate some matter wrapped in secrecy. The appearance of a wizard who was the descendant of Gavin the Terrible and who sought to resurrect Necromancy may very well have been her mission… but perhaps she’d been sent only to interfere with the performance of a young Sword Artist trying to gain the favor of Lady Cumulus!

Stratos walked alongside the cart towards the great Unwild city of Perringham, or something, with confidence in his stride. He had a stout and sturdy dwarf companion, perfect to provide contrast to Stratos’ grace and beauty, a noble tiefling warrior, as troubled as she was beautiful, and a new rival, to cause trouble and chaos. A mystery lay before them all, on the very cusp of mortal danger. Stratos smiled and hoped that the Necromancer would strike soon!

An Unprecedented Performance

As he knew he would, Aelen Stratos found a road winding through the Feyrun forest. The mortals here had other names for the wood, but Aelen preferred the sound of Feyrun. He was just beginning his journey and not yet lonely for his home, but it was good not to feel as far away from the familiar discontinuity of the Feywild. He walked west, moving away from the few Eldarin cities that sometimes touched the Unwild and from the less familiar, but too recognizable elven country.

He found exactly what he was looking for, a company of mortals passing through the Unwild on some journey. Aelen joined them naturally, amused that they did not understand. Of the travelers, two interested him.

The dwarf, Argent Bristlebeard, appealed because of his normalness. He went about each day, attending to his boring duties without complaint. There seemed no wanderlust in him, no desire for adventure, no dreams of glory. Though Aelen did not spend much time in the court of Stone, who had little appreciation for art, he saw much of the same steadfast qualities in Argent. Aelen particularly liked watching him smoke his pipe, gazing as the smoke twisted away to nothingness.

The other travel that caught his eye was the tiefling, Sasha. Here was one who would turn heads even in the House of Summer. She wore armor of gold and red, baring swaths of smooth golden skin. Her horns were gilded and shined like her yellow hair. As down to earth and normal as Argent was, Sasha was his opposite, fiery and vigorous. Aelen had to duel her.

Aelen had seen art from the Unwild before, it was quite the rage in the last century among the Eladrin courts. Mostly elven work, but the most sought-after pieces were ancient dragonborn or tiefling pieces, the more ancient and exotic the better. He had a respect for their ability to create beauty in the Unwild, though he was saddened that swordsmanship was not considered art here.

Sasha’s blows were strong and precise, her shield always held before her, pushing him back. It was obvious to Aelen that she dressed for beauty and splendor, to awe and inspire in battle. There was no other reason to leave her belly and thighs not only unarmored but uncovered. Yet when they dueled her every blow was aimed to score a hit and nothing more.

They parted, neither understanding the other. But Aelen was determined to have his performance.

After more than a week in the Unwild, Aelen finally had it. A mage had gone missing, undead appearing, and fierce forest spiders were behaving unnaturally. The sword artist briefly crossed his swords over his face, wishing that these spiders didn’t lair in caves. He ran to the cocoons, helping to slice them open. Argent and Sasha didn’t seem to appreciate the grace of his cuts and how they were done at the perfect depth to shear through silk without touching what was inside.

Nor had they seemed to appreciate his dance with the spiders, flitting through the air like a butterfly, swords flashing in complicated arcs, blurred to silver streaks in the dim light. He knew that they understood the danger, that he was putting his life on the line! Why couldn’t they appreciate the beauty?

The town of Aberholme seemed to be grateful, even though they missed the performance. Aelen accepted their accolades and raises his cup of wine. It was sweet, this performance, this…victory… Perhaps the beauty was greater with the threat of death as the price of failure? He held out his cup as the jug was passed around again and looked forward to the next performance.

Aelen Stratos and the Art of Adventuring

“Tell me who you are.”

Her voice was light and airy and echoed as if it came from far away, yet there was deep power there.

“My name is Aelen Stratos, Lady Cumulus.” Aelen bowed deeply, but even when it was complete he did not raise his eyes. When dealing with the Elemental Lords, it was best to be cautious and courteous.

“Who are you?” Her voice came again.

Aelen squinted against the silvery light that threatened to blind him, even with downcast eyes, and smiled.

“My father was Aeros Strathar, one of the finest duelists of the Eladrin Courts. He was acknowledged by Lord Aspen himself. My mother was a duelist herself, Onera Telos. Her patron was Lord Butterfly.” Aelen waited, but the only sound was the hushing wind and music so faint it may have been imagined.

“Though each of my parents were famous in their own right, they had never performed together. My Father performed mostly in the House of Summer, while my mother favored the Skylands. But it was at the Wildfaire that they met and fought for the first time. They dueled, but neither could win. There is a poem that says that it lasted for three days and three nights, but my parents said that it was only nine hours. But still neither could win over the other.”

“It was the first draw to be declared in three hundred years and a great feast was held. They became fierce rivals, performing blade dances and duels, seeking to out-perform each other. Where one won favor, the other would soon arrive to attempt to outshine the other. Naturally, they fell in love.”

“Yes,” Said the Elemental Lady, but she said nothing more.

“They married after the traditional hundred-year courtship, but their love was such that I was born on the twenty-second year. They gifted me with my first blade after my first year and they moved my infant hands in all of the blade dances they knew. I was raised as a sword-artist.”

Aelen felt Lady Cumulus’ gaze on him and waited for her, watching the reflection of the indoor clouds in the polished floor. “Yes,” she said.

Aelen waited three heartbeats, then continued. “When I was ninety-nine, my father was killed during a duel. The man, Destar Ulirsh, apologized and professed that it was an accident. Yet, as duels are art to us, and by custom no blood is shed, my mother did not believe him. Destar was a great rival of my father’s and his jealousy was growing famous.”

“My mother swore a pact with you, Lady Cumulus, and became a warlock. She hunted down Destar and confronted him. She killed him. But because his death was not done according to custom, and was not an accident, she was banished from the Eldarin Courts. She brought me into exile with her, and continued to serve you until her death in your service.”

“I remember Onera,” Lady Cumulus whispered in a voice like rain. “Who are you, Aelen?”

The Eladrin youth smiled again and dared raise his eyes as far as the misty hem of the Elemental Lady’s gown. “I am an artist, Great Lady. I have performed in the Eladrin Courts all across the Feywild. I seek a patron, so that I can fulfill my potential.

“Lady Cumulus, I have a great performance… I will go to the Unwild and perform it in your name. It would be a great honor.”

“Let me see your face, Aelen.” He raised his eyes slowly, feeling her light fall on his face. “Take my token.”

Aelen reached out and accepted her gift. Her fingers brushed his lightly as he took it, a long scarf of wispy cloud-silk. He looped it carefully around his neck and bowed very deeply again. When he raised his eyes, the court of Lady Cumulus was gone and Aelen stood in a dense thicket. A white mist was retreating into the wood. The youth looked up and saw a silver cloud high over head. He drew his swords and crossed them in front of his face, saluting her.

The Unwild was near; a place known to the Eldarin, but where few had business. Ahead, the forest stretched out, but soon enough there would be a road. And then Aelen Stratos would attempt what no other artist had before…an unprecedented performance!