Dear Reader,
I am Stanleigh Claiborne, and I have been dead for many centuries.
More specifically, I am a Remnant. A human who died but never passed on to the afterlife. I do not know why. I stopped searching for an answer long ago. I simply persist. I exist (what is “existence” to an undead?).
I have witnessed endless battles through the centuries between the armies of Aufstrag and Aenoch (and later New Aenoch). I’ve seen the rise, fall, and rise again of cities and towns, of families and family lines, the retreat of the dwarves, the elves, the fey, as well as their slow return.
Occasionally, I have found my interest piqued by explorers and adventurers, and I follow them around for a bit until they (usually) meet their end. One such group I took notice of during a hazy day with a light drizzle of rain involved a quite diverse group leaving the small village of Malforten in the Drunderry River Valley. A Heisen Fodt, Remnant, Changeling, Hobbit, Centaur, and several humans made up this party. It is always interesting to witness people who don’t see the truth yet. The Changeling still thinks it is a human and hasn’t asked the questions that will open up its understanding of self and its true connection to the Fey Otherworld and the hidden fey home of Rackham Vale in the Aratok Mountains, and the Remnant is hiding its true nature from the group (usually a wise decision).
The Centaur Hunter was a skilled tracker and was following the trail of Goblins and their wolf mounts that collect and bring tribute from the populace of Malforten to their leader, the Gnoll warrior Gritznak the Bold. This adventuring group was seeking him out to rid the town of his menace.
After passing through open grasslands on their left and the swift moving Drunderry River on their right (it is early March and the snow melt has caused swift currents) they eventually approached a forested area where many pixies – and their queen – dwell.
The invisible fey took an immediate discomfort to the undead (I have experienced this many times), but they flew to the Changeling Minstrel, whispered to him, and he began to play a tune. The music cheered them up – although they did prank trip the Remnant – and then revealed a path for the group to a shallow portion of the river with boulders and fallen trees the goblins had used to cross a few days earlier. Now the group attempted it.
The group could’ve used the bridge that was nearby, that obviously would have been the easy way to accomplish this task. But the fey had used powerful illusory magic to hide it when the goblins approached days earlier and this adventuring group was unable to detect it either, and so they attempted to cross the 120-foot-wide river using rope support and crossing 5 foot diameter tree trunks held precariously in place by scattered large boulders. The paladin and his horse nearly entered the afterlife as he struggled to cross while also guiding his horse with him. The Remnant was clearly a young wizard, for he summoned a floating disc and hovered above the trunks to cross. The Heisen Fodt – a noble elder dwarf – faced his own challenges, and although some of the party were bashed against rocks, they all eventually made it across the river (although some arrived on the shore by the current in an unconscious state, but better bruised and unconscious, than dead).
Once they were all revived, they wisely decided to rest there and recoup their health. The Centaur and Heisen Fodt went out to hunt for food for the 8 party members to build up their strength and accelerate healing and comfort. From the birds-eye view I took, I could see they were approaching some wild boar, and the beasts charged them. The Centaur Hunter proved to be an accomplished bowman and took down one of the boar, but another gored him with its charge and the 7 foot 1,000 lb+ Centaur fell to the forest floor unconscious. The Heisen Fodt took down another boar, but then, in the distance, there was the sound of wolves. The Heisen Fodt was about to meet the animals that had been hunting the boar.
But I will have to tell you what happens next later. One of my messenger ravens has just arrived with fresh news from other situations I am following. I must keep up with what is happening in the world. I have spent centuries building up networks of eyes and ears in the skies and in the forests. It is how I have managed to perdure for so long. Which reminds me, I am also overdue for some quiet philosophical reflection regarding temporality and the concept of change over time, but I will spare you those thoughts for a later time. For time is all I have. I will return to the narrative…eventually.






















You must be logged in to post a comment.