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Old 09-26-2016, 01:22 PM   #1
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Odyssey into The Forgotten Realms (closed for Armphid)

Life in the Realms has always been one of marvel and awe for those who know where to look for adventure or are brave enough to seek it out, yet, occasionally, adventure sometimes seeks out those who are unprepared. A new age was beginning in the realms, and it started with 'The Lost Ones'; those who came from far away - much further than any could have imagined - to some, these were poor lost souls, but, to others, they were abominations to be hunted and their presence cleansed...

The tale of two such individuals begins in the hallowed halls of Candlekeep, a veritable library fortress, made to house the lore of all the lands.

Devin Pengast (Knight 2/Binder 3)
As it was often the case at midday, Devin was busy leaning over the battlements on the east wall of Candlekeep, looking almost longingly at the road that stretched beyond. It was almost inconceivable to have spent all 18 years of his life behind the walls of this library fortress and yet he had, especially given as Devin was not quite who he appeared to be. He had another name once, but along with realising the new beginning he now had, he had buried the name of Ethan Miller along with another past long ago. Almost; there was at least one other here that knew his secret, just as Devin knew his.

With a sigh, he ran his fingers through the red locks of his hair before turning his fierce green gaze back to the road. Somewhere in the courtyard below, he could hear the mages that served in the defense of Candlekeep shouting and chanting studiously as they practiced their magic that was meant to serve to the defence of the fort - it was amongst the things Devin had studiously wished to be able to grasp in this world, yet the fates had defied him for he had no aptitude in the matter. The clink of chain and the sword at his side denoted what it was that he had been best suited for; that he was now of the guard was an irony not lost on him, having been in law enforcement once before, in another time. That said, he had found something of a workaround in the matter.

As he reflected on private matters, he was also aware of the attention of the guard on the wall with him within call. Uncounsciously, he scratched his head, feeling the tiny crown of horns that was hidden in the unruly mop of his hair. It was one of the reason why he never kept a presentable appearance. The technical term, as he had learned for those born with a trace of demon blood was tiefling - something that manifested in fiendish traits, such as the small horns on his head and the whip-like tail that was thankfully thin enough to keep hidden, amongst... other things. Most here at Candlekeep knew of what he was, and only by keeping his nose clean had he managed to earn some measure of trust, though he was certain he was never likely to be embraced with the except of his guardian, Perren Calis, a priest of Lanthander unsurprisingly, who had taken to watching over him and his friend since they had been brought Candlekeep.

Looking over to the woods in the east, Devin wished that some excitment would drop into his life, forgetting the old saying of 'be careful what you wish for'.
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Old 09-26-2016, 11:57 PM   #2
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Light streamed through the windows of one of Candlekeep's many libraries and despite the endless efforts of the scholars and staff to keep it clean, dust motes glowed and danced in the beams of light that cur through the dimness of in the interior. Scholars were around the room putting books, scrolls, and tomes back on the shelves or pulling out those requested for research. Students sat at desks scattered about, studying diligently.

"The fulmination of mana into vital energy is a matter of will driving the positive to positive and negative to negative, then only the command word need be said to create the stream of power and complete the incantation...that's it." The voice was high and clear, a tenor that was almost a contralto, though the speaker's words were low and meant only for his own ears. Said ears were a bit on the large side yet were narrower than those of a human, swept and pointed back sharply but not as much as a few of the other students in this particular library on this particular day. Those with ears longer, sharper, and more pointed than his were full blooded elves, he was just a half elf.

Fahn Atheon (Wizard 5), sometimes called Fahn the Unexpected, wrote a few final characters in his spell book to commit this spell to it and leaned back in his chair. He smiled with full, tempting lips that more than one man or woman had described as perfect dick sucking lips. "Lightning Bolt. And I know just the command word." He was a pretty youth, beautiful even, more so than many of the women in Candlekeep to the annoyance of some but the delight of just as many. His features were fine and delicate and his eyes were keen but changed with his mood; now they were the light gray of mist in the morning but they could become the dark gray of roiling storm clouds when he grew angry. His hair was a rather unschooled but lovely mass of blond locks that fell past his jawline, kept clean and combed each morning but styled more by the wind and happenstance than any effort. His skin was naturally fair and had become a bit paler due to all the time he spent inside studying. He was a bit short for a young man of 18 years at only 5'9" but was never troubled by his height. Fahn had a slender and agile build that he had honed over the years with much the same effort as he'd put into his mind; though he was hardly a warrior, the strength and dexterity he'd worked hard to build would have surprised many who tried to do him ill. His figure was quick, willowy, and elegant. He had long limbs and a particularly pert and perky ass which combined with his looks and narrow waist, caused many to mistake him for a flat chested girl.

Fahn didn't care about that; he loved being good looking and didn't mind being thought of as pretty. He hadn't been before, in his previous existence, he certainly wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth now. Being bisexual, he also didn't mind that it meant men flirted with him thinking he was a girl, though those who figured out he wasn't often were angry with him. As if he'd lead them on! It wasn't his fault they couldn't tell the difference!

He was called "the Unexpected" because he was. His mother was a human cleric of Mystara who had lived at Candlekeep and become the paramour of a visiting moon elf wizard from the Moonshaes. A few months after he had completed his studies and left, she discovered she was pregnant. He had been unexpected in other ways all his life; walking and talking earlier than normal, learning to read earlier and faster than he should, throwing himself into mental and physical exercise with a devotion that was more like a veteran researcher than a mere child, mastering magical theory years ahead of his time. Unexpected, indeed.

The reason for his rapid mental maturation, his ability to drink in knowledge and study with such diligence, all came from the same secret origin as Devin Pengast. He knew the other youth's secret. How could he not? He could feel it in him and they'd exchanged some knowledge of their pasts. Not their pasts here but what they had been before. On Earth, when he had been Douglas Miller and the Forgotten Realms was a setting for the role playing games and fantasy books of his adolescence. His first one, anyway. Going through puberty again had been unpleasant but not nearly as much as it had the first time.

He closed the tome he'd been studying and put his own spell book into his bag before slinging it over his shoulder. Unlike many mages, he eschewed robes and preferred to wear snug fitting trousers, a long sleeved shirt under a vest, and a pair of stout boots. Even here in the safety of Candlekeep, he bore his staff and two daggers openly, two more hidden on his person. More than one person had mocked him for going about that way, but he just shrugged and said, "This way I won't have to try and equip in battle once the main questline starts", leaving his hecklers confused. The only traditional mage accessory he kept was a broad brimmed hat with a conical shape that was bent and fallen over, in a pale blue. He called it his "Gandalf hat," much to the confusion of almost all yet again.

Fahn placed the hat on his head as he walked out into the midday sun, the bent point towards the back of his head. Today felt good but also...different, somehow. There was nothing he could name but he felt a strange tension in the air. True, Tolone had her final test to become a full Conjurer today but he didn't doubt she'd pass. Perhaps they'd celebrate tonight and he'd begin his pursuit of the other part of life he'd felt unfilled in...Douglas Miller had not lived up to his physical, mental, or sexual potential and been in denial about much of it until the last few months of his life and by then, it had seemed too late to do anything about it. But not this time. As Fahn, he had a second chance and he would live life to the fullest and make himself as great as he could be.

But then..if it wasn't Tolone's test...was it the barbarians? Through a long and painstaking effort of diplomacy (and a fair bit of fighting), some of the Duskblades and Spellswords had convinced a tribe of orc barbarians to send one of their shaman (and an honor guard, of course) to Candlekeep for a kind of knowledge exchange. That could be potential trouble; the shaman tended to think arcane spellcasters as blind fools and they held the same view of them. Not to mention the barbarians distrusted magic in general. But if a greater understanding of magic, arcane, divine or natural, came out of it, so much the better to his way of thinking.

Maybe that was it. Fahn glanced up at the wall to the east where he could feel Devin was. He hoped that was all it was. "...Yeah. And I'm a Chinese jet pilot," he said to no one.
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"It's a shallow life that doesn't leave a few scars."--Garrison Keillor

"Nothing can happen unless you swing the bat." -- Haruko Haruhara
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Old Today, 09:16 AM   #3
purpleraven is offline
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There wasn't any way to describe the small itch in the back of his mind other than as a means to find Douglas, or rather Fahn, but for now, Devin made it a point of ignoring the feeling. In the early days, too many times, he kept on looking in blonde's direction unerringly, and some of the more astute realised who he was looking for; Devin had promptly resolved only to make note of it in his mind just in case others figured out the bond. Before he could speculate further, the mellow note of a golden bell being struck resonated three times, indicating the change of the wall guard, to which Devin was quite thankful.

As he proceeded down the stairs, he took note of the descending guard in front of him. There was nothing quite in particular to distinguished the helmeted warrior from the other behind him or any others on the wall, yet Devin had found himself particularly sensitive to the presence of the opposite sex since he had been... reborn. The slight sway in the hips called out to him as though it was an exaggerated cat-walk motion of a fashion model. Though he willed otherwise, his body had a hair-trigger response to these sort of things now and already he could feel the pangs of arousal pricking at him. Diverting his eyes, he made a bee-line for the barracks on the south side.

Removing his armour, he splashed his face with water to dissipate the heat he was feeling; often times he felt he had perfect discipline in all things except his libido, and part of him wondered if the supernatural bloodline he carried were responsible - certainly it seemed reasonable to Devin that devils or demons might have such heightened appetites - he thought to ask Fahn, who undoubtedly had more knowledge on the matter than he, but given the nature of what he wanted to ask... well, that wasn't so simple. Just thinking of Fahn caused another spike in his sexual desires, as the blonde boy was not of negligible aspect when it came to appeal. Before Fahn, Devin hadn't really thought of himself as one for another man, but, now at least, he considered the possibility, perhaps out of necessity.

His present looks were a considerable upscale from his previous shorter, oily-haired self, but the demonic additions meant there were going to be complications. Perren had always told him that he would attract those of a... darker disposition, and ensure mistrust in those who had cause to fear him. The scar across the bridge of his nose and face had been a harsh reminder that Perren's words were not mere for show. However painful it had been at the time, he had grown to appreciate that scar as something that added to looks. Though hard-bodied and well-built, his eyes went dubiously towards the light coating of reddish-golden scales on his outer forearms and thighs; something that even extended on his shoulders and part down his back. Even the nails on his fingers and toes were darker and consistently grew talon-like despite his best attempts to keep them trimmed. He had the figure of an olympian male and no means to make it work to his advantage. Sometimes, just sometimes, he felt that maybe Fahn had gotten the better deal.

The tail behind him coiled and uncoiled and whipped side to side at his moods. Despite it's betraying nature, it was a novelty, and he had even been able to control it as time went by, evidenced as he now used it to fish a loose cotton shirt from the bed. As he often did, he made it coil evenly around his waste, snake-like, as he slipped on the shirt and stepped into his trousers and boots. For now he wanted to meet up with Fahn and discuss the ill-ease he felt growing in the back of his mind. There was also the matter of traveller's reports that goblins were amassing in Cloakwood to the north. A city, like Baldur's Gate would likely have nothing to worry about, but a smaller place like Candlekeep, or even Beregost to the south... that was likely a different matter.

Tying his sword-belt into place, he headed out of the barracks to go and find Fahn. Hopefully, the wizard would have the time to hang out at the Winthrope's inn.
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