Logan gasps and claws out wildly to fend off the terrible zombie that is trying to tear open his chest. He opens his eyes and begins a cry of fear and anger and... sees a lavender sky filled with a multitude of dark crimson stars. He is lying on several creamy white silk cushions in the middle of some sort of gazebo that is open to the sky in the centre. The thief feels his chest frantically and finds his chest uninjured and unblemished, and also notices that he is not wearing much clothing - just a pale blue vest of light cotton and similar baggy pants.

Looking around in amazement he sees that surrounding the gazebo is a dark forest of mature fire trees with branches that always seem to be moving, despite there not being any wind that he can feel. He also sees, with a start, that he is not alone.

A lithe elven woman reclines on a cluster of bundled silk cushions a couple of feet away from him, directly above his prone head so he didn't see her at first. She has a tanned complexion and jade-green eyes, but most striking of all is her hair: she has a wild mane of silver-white hair that stretches down almost to her calves. And... she isn't wearing much. Just a leather bikini top and a sort of long green loin cloth. She stares at him expectantly, a small smile on her face.

Logan sits up, staring all around him.  "Um...hello.  Could you tell me exactly where I am?  I was just helping out my friends, and now..."  Logan blushes, having trouble finding words with the woman right in front of him.  "I don't think I know you.  And while I'd certainly like to get to know you a little better, er..."  Logan stops again, wishing he could have a second to collect his thoughts alone before continuing.  "Sorry.  I'm Logan, of Shadowshore.  Can you tell me where I am?  And who you are?"

Logan reached out his hand, aware that he was babbling like an idiot but not sure of what else to say.

The smile on the woman's face disappears, and she looks a little shocked. "Oh man, are you every going to regret that comment once you figure all this out," she says darkly, shaking her head a little.



She stares at his hand briefly, then gives a snort, the smile returning to her face. "What am I meant to do with that?" she says, waving at his outstretched hand. "Kiss it? Ha!"

She gets to her feet and Logan sees that she is shorter than he expected, and quite stocky. He also becomes less sure of her race - although she has some elf like traits, her body shape and facial structure is not right. She is more stocky and square in the shoulders, and her chin and nose have none of the fine features that he would recognise from his mother.

"Come on boy," she says, the smile broadening on her face. "Let's train while we talk." She reaches behind her and pulls out a pair of elegant rapiers that shimmer across their metallic surface with all of the colours of the rainbow, like an oil sheen on the surface of a water pond. "I will answer your first question though," she says, as she offers one of the weapons to him hilt first.

"When you die your spirit goes to the place most aligned with your actions during your life... So young Logan, you... are in the Abyss." Her smile turns into a grin, and it is not pleasant.

Logan's expression changed as the woman responded.  "Figure this out?  What are you talking about who..."  And again the rogue trailed off, trying to take in everything around him.  He takes the rapier, examining the shining blade with interest, thinking of his own marvelous weapon, which nevertheless had proven unsuited at delivering the rogue safely from deadly combat.  He swished the air a few times then had to try hard to maintain his grip when his new..instructor?  Guide? Whatever the woman was, revealed his current location.

"The Abyss!?" Logan couldn't help but splutter out, punctuating his retort with the point of his rapier.

He shakes his head.  "No, that can't be right.  I mean, I stole a few things, did a few unsavory jobs, but I've never promised my soul to a demon."

He paced back and forth, becoming more and more agitated.  "And I died fighting for my friends!  I put my life in danger to help others.  That can't be the actions of a person destined for the Abyss!"

He smiled at the woman, bringing his rapier up into a neutral guard.  "Unless, of course, insults and sarcasm count against you."

Logan took a few probing attacks with the rapier, trying to gauge the woman's skill.  "What if you're just testing me?  Maybe to see what I really think now that I don't have the afterlife to worry about?"

He stopped, pulling back to disengage.  "And if I'm dead, what's the point of training, anyway?"

Unfortunately, as soon as Logan grasps the hilt the rainbow sheen on the blade disappears, leaving the metal looking rather plain and lifeless. But the rogue can still tell this is an expertly balanced weapon and as he waves it through the air the weapon blurs and projects out several feet beyond the actual blade length, giving him significant extra reach.


+3 holy keen scimitar



The woman chuckles - not the light high pitched laugh of an elven woman - but a deeper, richer alto laugh that comes up from her belly and she seems to enjoy with much gusto.

"You should see your face! Well, this is a very special part of the abyss, a slim fragment torn from the belly of the beast at great cost and kept as a bridgehead in the fight against evil. So don't worry, you aren't going to become a demon, although you might end up fighting them. But come on! Let's begin!"



15:35, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 60 using 1d20+41.  Mysterious Elf-like woman attack roll.
OOC: She hits...

The short woman leaps forward in a blinding attack that Logan's eye can't even follow. After she returns to her defensive posture, the thief feels a wetness on the left side of his head, although no pain. He reaches up with one hand and feels quite a bit of blood and then looks down at the floor. His entire left ear lies on the floor, precisely and cleaning severed from his head. Then the pain hits and it hurts. like. frac.

"Maybe 'train' isn't the right word," muses the white haired lady. "Maybe 'spar' or 'test' is a better word. I need to see what you are worth to us... Will you join me in the vanguard against demonkind? Or will you be cleaning the outhouses? Hmm... so far I am leaning towards the more menial occupations..."
This message was last updated by the player at 10:11, Fri 23 Oct 2015.

Logan's expression breaks, his relief evident.  "Ah, so I'm not destined to be damned for all eternity, even with my sarcastic wit and clever insults."  He shakes his head.  "Well, I can tell by you that the agents against demons aren't nice and rosy, either.  Maybe I can find a place here."

After her dazing attack, Logan is momentarily stunned.  "What. The. Frack. Was. That?!  OW!  My ear?  Seriously, my fracking ear?"  Logan bends down to retrieve his severed flesh, tucking it into his vest.

"You better hope I can find someone here to heal that back up!  I don't want to be spending the rest of my afterlife with only one fracking ear!"

Logan lunges at the elven-esque woman, trying to strike her, knowing that his attacks cannot compare to her speed and style.  "As fine a weapon as this is, I usually stick with two.  I like the chance to really drive multiple points home."  He cirlces, watching for another lighting attack, not sure how to possibly defend himself if she launched another one.

"And I do some of my best fighting with allies.  Plenty of people can beat me in a straight-up match, but give me a distraction or something to use against them, and I've found some inventive ways to even the score."

13:03, Today: Logan rolled 22 using 1d20+8.  Attack Roll.

"Oh stop being such a big baby!" smirks the woman. "I'll heal it back on if you prove worthy."



The woman parries easily. "Hmm, well if you normally fight like that I can see why you would want more than one blade to strike with - playing the odds as it were. Ha! But I am the same, a rapier in each hand, that is the way things should be."



"So you are saying you need to have enough allies present in order to outnumber your opponent if you want to win? Well, you will seldom have that advantage here boy. The demons are legion."

"Tell me about Shadowshore. In Sasserine, yes? Tell me about your friends, and your family."
This message was last updated by the player at 10:11, Fri 23 Oct 2015.

Logan stared at the woman, unconsciously patting his ear in his vest.  "If I prove worthy?  And what if I don't?  Am I meant to wander around earless in your staging area for the rest of eternity?  Can you at least tell me how I'm supposed to be doing that?  And who exactly you are to judge me?"

He smirked.  "I'm glad you approve of my fighting style.  It fills me with joy to have a complete stranger agree with me, even one who's holding my entire fate in her mysterious hands."  He stepped to the side, trying to figure out anyway he could penetrate her defenses.  "But teaming up on someone doesn't mean outnumbering the enemy.  It could be 2 on 10 and the two could just concentrate on one enemy at a time, taking them down while outlasting the rest.  Just because you're outnumbered and surrounded doesn't mean you have to lose all semblance of tactics.  If the demons are legion, the way to fight them is to think about your fighting, not just resort to blindly rushing in headlong to meet them."  The rogue laughs.  "I can see why you need me.  Obviously, your side is lacking a general with a any amount of strategic acumen."

Logan stared at her again.  "Is that part of proving myself worthy?  Why do I get the feeling you already know all this?"

He looks around and sighs.  "Fine.  My family is just my father and mother.  My father died when I was young.  My mother did the best she could, but I think my dad's death took a toll on her.  She's been getting more and more withdrawn from the world.  As for friends, most of the low-lives I dealt with in Shadowshore aren't exactly friends.  People like Farty, for instance.  I needed them to find jobs, to make money, to get by, but I didn't consider them friends.  Now, however, I think, I have some, or was getting some.  Alohan, for instance, and Celene.  Angati and Kassius, too.  I just met them all, but I feel closer to them than to anyone else I've worked with in some time.  Maybe specifically because they're not terrible scum from Shadowshore."

The woman smiles. "That would be funny to make you wander round earless." She chuckles. "Really funny actually. Thanks for the idea, Logan the one-eared! Anyway, I am one of the Eladrin, from the Court of Stars. You soul came to me for judging because it has always been aligned to us. Always belonged to us really."



"That's the way Logan One-Eared! If you can't cut me with that blade, maybe you can cut me with your tongue! Good show!"

Logan:

He stepped to the side, trying to figure out anyway he could penetrate her defenses. 

His opponent slides and pivots a small amount - no, not a small amount - the perfect amount, and her blade slices through the air missing his arm by a hair's breath and leaving a rainbow trail behind which burns Logan's skin ever so slightly where it touches it. This fight is ridiculous. Logan is incredibly outclassed.



She snorts. "We know how to get the job done. And most importantly we have a worthy cause. We will not fail here."



"We of the court are not omniscience. I don't know everything. And yes, your background and previous actions are part of the test so talk!" She flashes her rapier a inch from the end of his nose causing Logan to belatedly try and block the strike.



"Your mother... What do you mean she is withdrawing from the world? Is she sick? Don't you take care of her?"

Logan smiled as the woman continued talking.  At least he was finding out more about where he was, even if not all of it made sense.  Perhaps he should have paid attention when he was doing that temple job, and maybe read a few of the illuminated manuscripts...

Logan shook his head and tried to focus on the fight, as one-sided as it likely was.

"You know, it's nice to know that know all the servants of the divine are so...uptight.  The priests you hear haranguing on the street in Shadowshore certainly pitch a very different picture of the afterlife all us low-lifes were going to missing out on.  I don't think they ever mentioned sarcastic eladrins with a penchant for ear-slicing, though.  Too bad.  Might have gotten more attention!"

Logan stares at the woman.  "How much do you know about the mortal world?  About dealing with people's problems given the constraints of life in a hellhole like Shadowshore.  Of course I tried to take care of her she's all I had!"  Logan was getting worked up, the volume of his voice increasing, punctuating his points with ineffective attacks of his weapon.

"But the temples don't take promises for payment, even if they'd agree to help someone like me.  Any you can't get any half-decent physicker in Shadowshore, either.  Maybe a half-drunk bonesaw-happy doctor who'll recommend leaches, but that about it.  It's not until recently that I had any money to help her.  I don't know what's going to happen now, though!  I just got enough to keep her in a nice room, hopefully get some more help."  Logan shakes his head, spent from his emotional outburst.

The woman darts forward with so much grace and speed that she is able to almost walk past his guard and cuffs Logan on the back of the head with her open palm. "Shut up boy! I don't want your sorry ass excuses, give me details! What exactly is wrong with her and when did it happen? So she is still alive now?!"

Logan is honest enough with himself to know he isn't wasn't the best swordsman in Sasserine, but he would have considered himself competent at least. And up until this day he would've said it would've been impossible for someone to actually *slap* him in the back of head while he was aware of them and held a rapier in his hand.
This message was last updated by the player at 07:26, Mon 02 Nov 2015.

Logan staggered, both physically and mentally under the swift attack.  His mind was in two pieces, one quailing under the physical blow itself, and the other trying to formulate a response to the woman's questions.  What?  How is that even possible?  No one can move that fast! said one side of his brain, while the other tried to cobble together a primitive case history, remembering back when his mother's mental health had begun to decline.

Finally, he gathered enough of his wits to formulate a response.  "First of all, ow!"  Airing his initial feelings improved the young rogue's mind and he felt confident enough to answer, substituting verbal ripostes for his completely outclassed physical ones.

"Look, I know you're probably an old hand at fighting demons, but some us are still coming to grips with slipping the mortal coil.  Give me a break here, lady!  Last thing I knew, a zombie was rooting through my intestines on a deserted frackin' parrot island, and then you're slapping because I'm getting a little sentimental?  What gives?"

The rogue watches for another slap to the head, confident in his complete inability to do anything whatsoever to defend himself.

"How'd you get chosen for the welcoming committee anyway?  Looks and wardrobe aside, you certainly seem to be adept at putting people in a foul frackin' mood!  Or does questioning the recently deceased about the details of their past tragedies usually go over well?"

Finally, he sighs.  "I'm no healer, and no healer I ever saw would tell me anything, other than that Tessara suffered from some sort of 'melancholy of the spirit.'  From what she told me of growing up in the elven lands, I think what happened to my father - a tragic accident, of course happened there just as it did in Sasserine, but she wasn't equipped to deal with it without the normal family and other social supports she would have had.  Of course, all of her kin deserted her when she left to live with a short-lived human, so in a sense, they're as responsible for her state as that frackin' driver of the runaway cart that killed my father in the first place."

Logan stops, trying to gauge the Eladrin's reaction.  Feeling more information was probably better, he continued.

"That's when her slide started, of course.  It wasn't noticeable at first, and I was pretty young.  But gradually, business dried up, and she didn't put as much effort into finding new clients.  And then gradually floated down through society in Sasserine until we ended up in Shadowshore, the only place we could still afford to live.  And the worse things got, the worse she got.  I think she was internalizing all the guilt over what had happened and how things were getting worse and it was, ultimately all her fault."

Logan shrugged.  "Well, that's my own thinking.  And I've had plenty of time to do that.  I'd hoped that the new place I found for her before..."  The rogue waved his hands at his abdomen, "Before my unfortunate demise would have helped.  Maybe having better surroundings would help.  But who knows?  It might just make things worse, because it's another symbol of how she'd failed by having to rely on her son when she should have been able to handle it herself."

"Heh! Only the pussies get put in a bad mood, the real men tough it out and concentrate on proving themselves. How are you getting on with that lad?"



"Heh. 'Runaway cart'. <snort> good one," mutters the dangerously beautiful woman, but not loud enough to interrupt.



The explanation seems to be going well. At least while he is talking she isn't slapping... or slicing.



The woman pauses, a look of terrible anguish slowly appearing on her face. "Gradually... after father's 'accident'... oh no... oh no no no...".

She lowers her rapier. "An oversight, nothing intentional," she gasps, looking up at the sky. "Simple forgetfulness. What with so many things going on..."

Logan, done with his painful reverie, finally looks up, as the implications of what the woman has said come to focus.  "Wait...you already knew about my father?"  Logan trails off, working through his tangled emotions as his sadness turns to anger.

Finally, he snaps the rapier to guard, which would be intimidating if the eladrin didn't so completely outclass him.  "You're not telling me everything there.  It's about time you talk!"

He points the rapier's tip at the woman, punctuating his points with the tip of his weapon.

"What do you know about my father's death?  Why did you scoff at my explanation of it?"

He gestures again with the tip of his blade.

"What was an oversight?  My mother being left alone?  Tessara falling into despair?"

He gestures to the sky, as though planning on attacking the gods themselves.

"What is going on?!  What did you forget?  Has your absentmindedness caused my mother a decade of despair?"

The woman breaks out of her anguish for just enough time to roll her eyes at him, but the rogue sees that those eyes have tears growing in them.



The woman exhales, sheaths her rapier, and puts her hand out to receive the other one from Logan. "It was an error that will now be rectified... She was told... no... commanded to... Believe me, I always had her best interests at heart!" She pauses.

Logan returns to the rapier to the mysterious woman, trying to assess her emotions.  The woman's complete change from uncaring tester to the obvious emotions he saw in her while discussing Tessara confused the young half-elf.

"I'm sorry, it's just a sore subject for me.  I didn't mean to lash out like that.  Can you at least tell me what you know?  What was the error?  Why did you have her best interests at heart?"

The rogue paused a second more.

"This is going to sound a little bit strange...but are you...are you one of my ancestors?"  He felt his face go red.  "I mean, I never met any of the elves, after Tessara left the elven lands for Sasserine, she never went back.  But that thing you said when I first got here, about being embarrassed when I figured something out, and now this..."

Logan shook his head.  "Well, at least it makes sense that someone from my family would be here."

The woman returns the second rapier to its sheath with a dexterous swirl. "Well, I am not an elf, I hope you understand that at least! I am an eladrin of the Star Court. But yes..." She advances and puts her hand on Logan's shoulder and squeezes it. "...I am most definitely family. I am sorry I wasn't around to help more but..."

Logan's vision swims. He notices a thin silver cord appear in the air, stretching from several different parts of his body then merging into one small diameter line that stretches out through the gazebo and straight through a tree towards infinity. He feels himself being pulled by this cord.

"Ah-ha! It seems that your friends are not willing to give up on you quite yet! You are being summoned back to the realm of the living young man!"

The woman's face curls, first to a look of displeasure but then to a snarl. "But... there is a dark taint on this?! Boy!" She grabs his shoulder and shakes him. "Who are you mixing with back in the living world? What is this?"

But Logan can already feel himself fading. Her words become quieter, more distant and difficult to make out. He could fight the summons, he thinks. He could stay here, with her.

"Boy! There is one thing you must know. I AM YOUR ...!"

He is being pulled away, and can't catch the last words! But he could resist the call and stay!

OOC: What do you want to do? You can stay and find out what she is saying, but then Logan will not be raised, the spell will be wasted and your friends will assume that you do not want to come back. You character will never be a PC again.

Or you can go back. :D

Logan struggles against the pull to the mortal coil for an instant, trying to make out the last words the mysterious eladrin is speaking.  "Wait," he yells, trying to get the attention of Celene and his allies, "Wait for your ritual!"

But then he mentally resigns himself, knowing the mysteries of the afterlife will be there, hopefully in fifty or 60 years, but perhaps in much less, if the dangers he has faced in the recent past continue.

"Next time," he whispers to himself, "Next time, I'll ask the questions first!"