Forgotten Realms: The Fate of Tyela Neuma
January 8, 2011 -Main Page
Evon – Deva – Invoker
1479 Dale Reckoning (D.R.)
Hammer – 6th
Stones strewn across the ground. Collapsed walls covered in moss and vines. Bones from animals and larger races long dead. These are the things that greeted me as I appeared from nothing. Despite its obvious ruin, I could feel this place had a strong connection to Bahamut, just as I did.
I looked down at my new body. While similar to many of my past incarnations there were distinct features. I was shorter than I had been previously, probably a mere 1 or 2 inches over 6 foot and a scant 175 pounds or so. My skin was predominately a deep purple with pale gray striations. I ran my hand through my short hair and knew it matched my skin in color.
A rat scurried across the courtyard and with a near unconscious thought I sent bolts of white hot light from my fingertips to incinerate it. The divine power coursed through my veins as did the need to fight evil. This was my purpose, the path to perfection in the eyes of the Platinum Dragon.
It was time to start moving. I walked calmly and confidently out of the ruins I would later learn as the Gardmore Abbey. Following the overgrown and hardly used path South by East I came to a well traveled road. A strong pull to the East guided my course.
On the second day of traveling the road I heard the sounds of a wagon and horses behind me. I stepped off the road to await the strangers and see their intentions. It was obvious the wagon riders had seen me since they paused at some distance while a lone, golden haired half-Elf warily approached.
“Hale, stranger,” he said confidently. “What brings you to travel along the King’s Road?”
For just a second I studied him. He seemed curious about my appearance, and was probably wondering about my lack of clothes – a custom of modesty that seemed to be shared by nearly every humanoid race. Subterfuge and evasion being contrary to my nature I stated matter of factly, “I am going East.”
“Is there anything I can help you with? Were you beset by bandits to be traveling in such straights?” he asks.
“Actually I just recently came to this world and you are the first being I’ve met. When I first appear in a place, I am as you see me now, without possessions. Perhaps I could join your caravan as a guard. Traveling in groups is safer and as you can see I am in need of clothing and food,” I replied.
Not sure what to make of my otherworldly claims the half-Elf offered me some water. “Please wait here for a few minutes while I check with my companions.”
I could see him talking with others back at the wagon for a few minutes at which point the wagons resumed moving. The caravan master threw me a robe saying in a gruff voice, “Cover yourself, we don’t want to scare other travelers.”
The half-Elf then motioned for me to join him in the lead wagon. “My name Adranis, but my friends call me Adrean,” and he held out his hand.
I clasped it and with a firm handshake introduced myself. “I am Evon, right hand of the Platinum Dragon.” Everyone looked skeptical and Adranis ribbed one of the travelers as he started to snort then introduced me to his other comrades. For the next several hours we discussed the local area. Adranis grew up in these parts and provided many local insights. He sometimes escorted supply trains such as this one which was headed to Fallcrest, a modest town in the middle of the Nentir Vale.
As evening approached we arrived at a bridge, Fallcrest’s Western border. It was the 7th of Hammer, in the year 1479 D.R. and this is where my (latest?) adventures in the Forgotten Realms begin.