Post by Wil Frozendagger on Dec 1, 2019 17:29:40 GMT
[cw: self harm]
Wil lay down in his lodgings in the Seashank, thoroughly exhausted after the second expedition to Hagar Karim, and meeting another friend of the Longstrider had only complicated things even further for him. He was more than used to going without sleep, but tonight in particular his thoughts were racing in his head, leading to a crescendo of a pounding headache. The first time he felt this it was as if his very soul was being wrenched from his body, but now he was much more used to the sensation. Clutching his forehead, he reached over to his side and pulled a stone tablet from under the covers to himself. This was his mind expanding. It was like flexing a muscle, Wil had remarked at one point; the more you use it, the bigger and stronger it gets, and the more you can do with it. Wil had been getting used to his steadily increasing set of abilities, but this felt like a particularly powerful surge. The more his mind expanded, the more truths it could be exposed to, showing him the path to new abilities. Of course, practice would still be required. The tablet, weightless in Wil's hands for such a solid object, was blank to most people however Wil could see the faint etchings of magic and sense the encoded messages on it. It was normally cryptic and it would take Wil at least a couple of days to work out the true meaning behind the riddles, which infuriated him to no end. This one however was clear as day.
You're not even trying with your telepathy, are you?
Wil was puzzled by this at first. Surely the telepathy was something that just happened, right? It was just like talking, you didn't need to put energy into it.
Energy. Putting energy in to talking would mean you were shouting, so energy into telepathy would mean...
The wheels began to turn in Wil's mind. How loud could he be if he charged the telepathy with magic energy? Or rather, how far would it go? His eyes suddenly widened as the new truth fell into place. He could throw thoughts all the way to Faerun if he wanted to. He could-
Another thought fell into place as his room became a blur. Wil scrambled to collect his things and rushed out of the door, down the stairs and out of the Seashank's entrance, tossing some coins which he hoped would cover his stay at Jed on his way out. It couldn't wait, this needed to happen now. He ran through the streets of the old town without pause, rushing all the way down to the beaches and only stopped as the waves were lapping at his feet. He reeled, waiting for a full minute to catch his breath and he swore that his heart was about to leap out of his throat. There wasn't a single second to waste, this was far too important. Withdrawing the forked branch of coral he used as a wand, he began to channel his magic through it, and into it drove a thought.
'Magnatus, brother? It's me, Wil. How are you? Where are you? Please tell me where you are so I can come and get you and-'
Wil fell to the ground heaving, unable to sustain the magic for a single second longer. He should've been able to respond to this one, Wil knew that for sure, so he waited. And waited.
Perhaps it took time to travel such a long distance? Maybe, or maybe it didn't work underground? No that wasn't right...
Wil began to pace in panic. Had he targeted it wrong? No that was impossible. Then why was he not responding? Why?! He reckoned he had one more try in him for now, so again began to harness his powers.
'Faris please respond its Wil I just want to know you and brother are safe please hear me pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-'
That was his limit and he cursed all the stars in the night sky that it was. And yet save for the ocean waves, there was silence, dark oppressive silence. A dream at any other time, Wil now wished for anything but, he would take just about anything except this, except this nothingness. Why? Why couldn't they respond? After all this time he'd finally be able to reach them, so why weren't they reaching too?
Wil felt his legs give out once again, his heart sinking and his mind clouding over as one more truth made its impact.
It wasn't supposed to happen like this. His father was tough but long in his years, whereas his brother and sister were the strongest people he knew, those mercenaries and slavers should've been no match. And yet they didn't return, and they didn't respond. He only realised he was holding on to hope for sixteen years when he had lost it, and now he was left with nothing once again.
Nothing? No, no that wasn't quite right. Maybe everything there was lost, but here, in Kantas, there were still things to do. The story wasn't over, not so long as one Frozendagger still existed.
He had to perform the rites.
After taking a long pause to gather himself together, Wil drew himself into a kneel, took about ten gold pieces from his coin purse and hurled them into the ocean waves, closing his eyes as he began to recall the ways of his family.
"In the light of Selune and in Umberlee's waves I have confirmed that Magnatus Frozendagger, sixteenth of his name, the Strongarm, and Faris Frozendagger, third of her name, the Shadowdancer have left this mortal existence and have joined our table in Ysgard, where they shall be glorious forevermore. I, Wil Frozendagger, first of my name, therefore claim uncontested the title of head and chieftain of Clan Frozendagger, and thus do I swear to honour our forefathers, keep their memory alive and build a legend worthy of them. By our customs shall I abide and should I fail in this matter cast me forever into Pandaemonium. I begin my duties immediately by taking on the scars of our founder, Magnatus the Frozen Dagger, who taught us the honour, dignity and leadership that made us who we are."
From his side he withdrew a dagger he barely used but kept on him anyway. If his father hadn't taught him that, Luskan definitely would have. He was glad to finally have a use for it, and even more thankful that it was still sharp, facilitating the ordeal ahead. He placed the wicked blade to his left temple and drew it diagonally downwards, as close to his eye as he could manage before continuing the line past the eye for a short length, blood beginning to drain out of the line as he did so. It stung and burned to injure himself like this but that wasn't anywhere close to the pain of loss. He continued drawing the knife across his face and body, creating a pattern of scars all too familiar for him. His father had the scars, and he remembered watching his mother give the scars to his brother the last time he saw him. Bands around the fingers to signify the ones that were broken or lost, several lines across the chest, a particularly large band where the Frozen Dagger had lost his left leg, but his pride was that his sword arm was almost pristine, with only a couple of broken fingers. This was the legacy that he had to follow, of the man who single handedly took on a frost giant and slew it before falling himself to protect his people, and as Wil lay there, drenched in blood and seawater, he made a silent vow that one day, when he faced the Frozen Dagger at their table in Ysgard, he'd be able to tell him of his own deeds with pride.
It had been a week since that night and the scars were beginning to heal properly. Wil was thankful that people in Port Ffirst asked few questions; it meant he didn't have to explain all this. The call to war had finally been sounded in K'Ul Goran, and Wil was preparing to join. After the previous expeditions Wil had debts to pay, scores to settle and allies to fight alongside. The K'ul Gorani were proud and noble people, and to watch them fall to giants of all things filled Wil with a cold rage. No, he could not sit idly by and just watch this happen, he needed to fight, and if he came across a frost giant, he just might be able to test himself against his ancestor.
Finishing his shopping, he looked at the items he had bought. A black cloak, not quite like the ones worn by his family but close enough, some healing potions and a drum, strapped to his left leg opposite his tablet. He strolled back down to the beach and walked until he found a relatively flat area of cliff face. With eyes shut, he began to beat out a rhythm on the drum with his left hand, reminiscing on better days, where he'd watch as his father played the drum whilst his siblings did their combat drills, slow ones for Magnatus with his axe and faster for Faris and her daggers. Wil settled on a rhythm between the two and began to shoot blasts of magic into the cliff face in time to it, attempting to keep his aim straight and true. He'd need it to be for this war.
Wil lay down in his lodgings in the Seashank, thoroughly exhausted after the second expedition to Hagar Karim, and meeting another friend of the Longstrider had only complicated things even further for him. He was more than used to going without sleep, but tonight in particular his thoughts were racing in his head, leading to a crescendo of a pounding headache. The first time he felt this it was as if his very soul was being wrenched from his body, but now he was much more used to the sensation. Clutching his forehead, he reached over to his side and pulled a stone tablet from under the covers to himself. This was his mind expanding. It was like flexing a muscle, Wil had remarked at one point; the more you use it, the bigger and stronger it gets, and the more you can do with it. Wil had been getting used to his steadily increasing set of abilities, but this felt like a particularly powerful surge. The more his mind expanded, the more truths it could be exposed to, showing him the path to new abilities. Of course, practice would still be required. The tablet, weightless in Wil's hands for such a solid object, was blank to most people however Wil could see the faint etchings of magic and sense the encoded messages on it. It was normally cryptic and it would take Wil at least a couple of days to work out the true meaning behind the riddles, which infuriated him to no end. This one however was clear as day.
You're not even trying with your telepathy, are you?
Wil was puzzled by this at first. Surely the telepathy was something that just happened, right? It was just like talking, you didn't need to put energy into it.
Energy. Putting energy in to talking would mean you were shouting, so energy into telepathy would mean...
The wheels began to turn in Wil's mind. How loud could he be if he charged the telepathy with magic energy? Or rather, how far would it go? His eyes suddenly widened as the new truth fell into place. He could throw thoughts all the way to Faerun if he wanted to. He could-
Another thought fell into place as his room became a blur. Wil scrambled to collect his things and rushed out of the door, down the stairs and out of the Seashank's entrance, tossing some coins which he hoped would cover his stay at Jed on his way out. It couldn't wait, this needed to happen now. He ran through the streets of the old town without pause, rushing all the way down to the beaches and only stopped as the waves were lapping at his feet. He reeled, waiting for a full minute to catch his breath and he swore that his heart was about to leap out of his throat. There wasn't a single second to waste, this was far too important. Withdrawing the forked branch of coral he used as a wand, he began to channel his magic through it, and into it drove a thought.
'Magnatus, brother? It's me, Wil. How are you? Where are you? Please tell me where you are so I can come and get you and-'
Wil fell to the ground heaving, unable to sustain the magic for a single second longer. He should've been able to respond to this one, Wil knew that for sure, so he waited. And waited.
Perhaps it took time to travel such a long distance? Maybe, or maybe it didn't work underground? No that wasn't right...
Wil began to pace in panic. Had he targeted it wrong? No that was impossible. Then why was he not responding? Why?! He reckoned he had one more try in him for now, so again began to harness his powers.
'Faris please respond its Wil I just want to know you and brother are safe please hear me pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-'
That was his limit and he cursed all the stars in the night sky that it was. And yet save for the ocean waves, there was silence, dark oppressive silence. A dream at any other time, Wil now wished for anything but, he would take just about anything except this, except this nothingness. Why? Why couldn't they respond? After all this time he'd finally be able to reach them, so why weren't they reaching too?
Wil felt his legs give out once again, his heart sinking and his mind clouding over as one more truth made its impact.
It wasn't supposed to happen like this. His father was tough but long in his years, whereas his brother and sister were the strongest people he knew, those mercenaries and slavers should've been no match. And yet they didn't return, and they didn't respond. He only realised he was holding on to hope for sixteen years when he had lost it, and now he was left with nothing once again.
Nothing? No, no that wasn't quite right. Maybe everything there was lost, but here, in Kantas, there were still things to do. The story wasn't over, not so long as one Frozendagger still existed.
He had to perform the rites.
After taking a long pause to gather himself together, Wil drew himself into a kneel, took about ten gold pieces from his coin purse and hurled them into the ocean waves, closing his eyes as he began to recall the ways of his family.
"In the light of Selune and in Umberlee's waves I have confirmed that Magnatus Frozendagger, sixteenth of his name, the Strongarm, and Faris Frozendagger, third of her name, the Shadowdancer have left this mortal existence and have joined our table in Ysgard, where they shall be glorious forevermore. I, Wil Frozendagger, first of my name, therefore claim uncontested the title of head and chieftain of Clan Frozendagger, and thus do I swear to honour our forefathers, keep their memory alive and build a legend worthy of them. By our customs shall I abide and should I fail in this matter cast me forever into Pandaemonium. I begin my duties immediately by taking on the scars of our founder, Magnatus the Frozen Dagger, who taught us the honour, dignity and leadership that made us who we are."
From his side he withdrew a dagger he barely used but kept on him anyway. If his father hadn't taught him that, Luskan definitely would have. He was glad to finally have a use for it, and even more thankful that it was still sharp, facilitating the ordeal ahead. He placed the wicked blade to his left temple and drew it diagonally downwards, as close to his eye as he could manage before continuing the line past the eye for a short length, blood beginning to drain out of the line as he did so. It stung and burned to injure himself like this but that wasn't anywhere close to the pain of loss. He continued drawing the knife across his face and body, creating a pattern of scars all too familiar for him. His father had the scars, and he remembered watching his mother give the scars to his brother the last time he saw him. Bands around the fingers to signify the ones that were broken or lost, several lines across the chest, a particularly large band where the Frozen Dagger had lost his left leg, but his pride was that his sword arm was almost pristine, with only a couple of broken fingers. This was the legacy that he had to follow, of the man who single handedly took on a frost giant and slew it before falling himself to protect his people, and as Wil lay there, drenched in blood and seawater, he made a silent vow that one day, when he faced the Frozen Dagger at their table in Ysgard, he'd be able to tell him of his own deeds with pride.
It had been a week since that night and the scars were beginning to heal properly. Wil was thankful that people in Port Ffirst asked few questions; it meant he didn't have to explain all this. The call to war had finally been sounded in K'Ul Goran, and Wil was preparing to join. After the previous expeditions Wil had debts to pay, scores to settle and allies to fight alongside. The K'ul Gorani were proud and noble people, and to watch them fall to giants of all things filled Wil with a cold rage. No, he could not sit idly by and just watch this happen, he needed to fight, and if he came across a frost giant, he just might be able to test himself against his ancestor.
Finishing his shopping, he looked at the items he had bought. A black cloak, not quite like the ones worn by his family but close enough, some healing potions and a drum, strapped to his left leg opposite his tablet. He strolled back down to the beach and walked until he found a relatively flat area of cliff face. With eyes shut, he began to beat out a rhythm on the drum with his left hand, reminiscing on better days, where he'd watch as his father played the drum whilst his siblings did their combat drills, slow ones for Magnatus with his axe and faster for Faris and her daggers. Wil settled on a rhythm between the two and began to shoot blasts of magic into the cliff face in time to it, attempting to keep his aim straight and true. He'd need it to be for this war.