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I left with little more than I had arrived with. Overpriced foodstuffs filled my pack and I carried a collection of miscellaneous supplies. Lucky for me there is little to truly fear roaming the plains (would-be heroes included) or I might have been in some peril. My mind wandered, weighing my obviously realigned morals against my history and upbringing. The ground rose and became rocky as I went back through the canyon to the Frontier Mountains.
Or, I would have, had a speeding wood elf come barreling into me as I crested the rise. We spilled into a heap, my invisibility broken and his instruments skidding down the hill. He cried out for them as he stumbled after, dropping his pack and sword in his haste. I was considering frying him on the spot when I realized that I recognized the sword. Now twice in mere days I have cause to speak of how small the world has become. This lad was Kylerian, my half-brother whom I had only seen on a covert mission to his birthplace in Qeynos when he was very young.
That sword was the Symphonic Saber once wielded by his half-elven father Bellobar who was one of my dear mother’s flings (albeit a very long and complex one) and a member of the League of Antonican Bards. The boy resembled the Vallentis far more than his father save in skin tone and hair color. The features were very near those of Tyrian and me… quite flattering if I do say so myself. I calmed him with a simple spell and graciously accepted his apology as his eyes darted back and forth.
He had the look of a hunted animal but I sensed nothing chasing him. He obviously had no idea who I was or our relation (and I would keep it that way) though he used his Vallenti title of par when he introduced himself. I coaxed more calm from him and invited him to share in a meal and a rest before he continued onward. He agreed (of course) and I extended my sentinel to encompass us both. On that grassy slope I found that young Kylerian was very much like me, despite our disparate upbringings.
As he related his tale to me (both in verse and detailed record) I found myself caught up in his spirit. No Tier`Dal would ever yearn such as this boy in his ignorance. Innoruuk’s will and my people would crush and dispel such selfless ambition if given free reign... and it was a great source of power. I opened a new chapter in my dealings with all races that day. We all have a place. Every fanatic, every hero, every villain, and every innocent works together to weave this web we call life. Not that Kylerian saw it that way… he was horrified by what he had seen both without and within.
I considered rearranging his memory of his adventures but, smiling inwardly, left him to them. I gifted him with some beneficial enchantments, a coin which could summon me in need, and my thanks. He turned out to be the missing piece of my puzzle.
My trip back to the Dreadlands was a pleasant as the journey from it. I even took time to etch the eroded faces from the standing stones into my journal and camped on a high bluff which offered a splendid view of the valley below. I penned this entry and re-read it as well as rewrote from memory the words Kylerian had spoken. These words simply do not reflect just how profound my interaction with the boy was. To further clarify for myself (and for anyone reading), I will explain further.
I have long labored for the fulfillment of a great purpose: the re-emergence of the Tier`Dal as the supreme power in Norrath. It consumed my early life and the fire of my passion for success brought me to the attention of Mistress V`Retta. My missions became more involved and challenging, with each success leading to more and darker assignments. However, to fulfill those missions I assumed deep cover… bringing me into close contact and comradeship with those my brothers and sisters can easily label enemies. In the end, it seems, I became nothing more than a character myself… acting the part of a Tier`Dal rather than truly being one. But granting me insight into truths ignored by my hate-driven kin.
Kylerian’s little tale, combined with the observations from Charyssa and my own experiences revealed what I had been but had not known. I am a builder, not a destroyer. Regardless of who I was at the time, I was there to make heroes of adventurers and villains of thieves. Balance is the key and the players are best kept ignorant of their true purpose in the game.
I think that I will not be returning to Neriak for a time. Indeed, I will be avoiding agents of the Tower and of the Dead until I have sufficient power to create my own order within them. Our dreams are the same but I believe that their plans would lead to nothing more than ashes… blood and ashes.
The Tier`Dal will rise, but not the way they think….
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