Tel'Mithrim - Q'Wellen Athori

History - After the fall of Neverwinter in the great cataclysm, many of the races were forced to join together for survival. In this time of self-preservation it was not uncommon to see Elves, Dwarves and Humans working together, often in the same communities. Old rivalries die slowly of course, and it was many months before the eldest in the various races were able to see the necessity of working together. As the elders had warned, the mixed races began to forget the old traditions of their individual races in favor of common interests (although how the elves and dwarves could find anything in common at all was a mystery to even the wisest among them).

The greatest of these loses was the art of Bladesinging. Bladesinging is the truest form of swordsmanship ever created. Created by the elven god Tethrin Veralde' and passed down through the ages from master to apprentice, bladesinging is art in motion. To see an Elven bladesinger twirl his blade in combat or practice is to behold death in its most beautiful form. It has been said that many a creature have simply stopped in the middle of a battle to watch a Master Bladesinger give life to his blade in combat. Kings and queens have paid the wealth of entire kingdoms simply to have the honor of watching even an apprentice bladesinger at practice.

Bladesinging takes many decades to learn and this is the chief reason only elves know the art, for an elf has a lifetime measured in centuries, as opposed to the humans which number their lives in decades. To follow the path of a Bladesinger an elf must give himself wholly to learning its' intricacies, a hard task for the wanderlusting elves, and still another reason why so few take the challenge. The reward for those who accept and then succeed in this most worthy endeavor is truly equal to the time it takes to learn. To carry the mark of a bladesinger is to have the honor of protecting all good creatures in times of need. Know to that a true Bladesinger has the respect of every elf in every kingdom. Even the evil dark elves, The Drow, give a wide berth to an Elf wearing the symbol of Tethrin Veralde', the sign of a bladesinger.

With the destruction of Neverwinter many of the Bladesingers simply vanished when the land was destroyed. Of the few that survived many died defending the fragile new communities from the hordes of evil creatures that remained in the now torn land. There are stories of Bladesingers dying of starvation, giving up their meager rations during the first winter to other elves that they might survive to carry on the Elven race.

So it came to pass that only one Bladesinger remained; a noble, wise, and fearsome elf named Irrasti Athori, he was well into his seventh century and the cruel hand of time had begun take its take its' toll on the wizened elf. Irrasti has protected a small village named Cannon for the past four years, but the burden has been heavy on the elder elf. His two finest apprentices, his daughter Mellanor and eldest son Argonis were both killed fighting a dark dragon that had harassed the village the previous summer. His dear wife Talanna had died two winters ago, defending the female children of the village from a roving band of brigands.

Knowing that his time on this plane was short, Irrasti summoned his younger son to him. "Q'wellen, I realize that you are not yet the age of majority, however my time here is very short."

"Father, do not speak such, you have led a full life and have yet to see your fill" Q'wellen, interrupted.

"My dear son, I know you have suffered much these last two years, and it is with a heavy heart that I must send you on this journey".

"Journey, father"?

"Yes, Q'wellen. Q'wellen I am the last Bladesinger of this land, and do not have time left to teach you the way. When the cataclysm came, some elves escaped!".

"Escaped? Father that is not possible where would they escape too, our entire world was devastated".

"Yes, Q'wellen it is true our world was destroyed, but there are other worlds than this, and some of our brethren escaped using powerful magic, some by choice others by force. Q'wellen do you remember the stories of Riklaun Sambria"?

"Father, all the children talk of Riklaun and Ebonstar; those stories are tales meant to scare little children into behaving. Even you have told me of Ebonstar coming to get me late at night, to turn me into a drider, when I misbehaved", Q'wellen answered laughingly.

Irrasti turned a grave look on his son. "Q'wellen, I swear to you by the Oath, that Riklaun existed, exists even now".

"Father, by the Oath? Do you realize what you are saying?"

"Q'wellen I swear to you by the Bladesinger oath, before Tethrin Veralde, I met him once, saw him actually, in battle against undead horseman, when I passed through a small town many years ago".

"Forgive my doubt, Father. It's just to hear after all this time that there may be more Brethren, it makes my heart leap. But I must ask, why did you say nothing before this and what does Rikluan have to do with this journey you speak of"?

"Only in my desperation do I tell you this Q'wellen for the journey you must take is extremely dangerous. As I said, my time runs short and I am the last Bladesinger in this world. It is with a heavy heart that I tell you this, son. You must leave this land, find Rikluan Sambria and become his apprentice".

"Find Riklaun, father how would I accomplish such a thing. I would not even know where to begin. Father, that would mean leaving you here alone, you can not fight the evil in this land alone."

"Q'wellen please, listen to me. If I die the knowledge I have dies with me; you must find Sambria and one day when you have learned the path, you may return here to restore the land and restore our family. I understand what you leaving means, I have avoided it as long as could, but I can put off your destiny no longer; which is why you must do one more thing for me".

"Anything father, you know that".

"Q'wellen I know that you have taken the Katana as your sword of choice, but I ask you now to take my longsword with you, so that it does not fall into evil hands upon my death. Look upon it in the future and know that I will always be with you. Now, you must pack for a long journey, in the morning you should head east, try to find Olium the mage. He may be able to send you on your journey ".

That very night Q'wellen packed for his journey. It wasn't difficult as he had very little, a few trinkets, a bedroll, some rations, and mementos of his family. Across the top of his pack he strapped his father's sword. He fell to sleep quickly and as he slept his father came to him and blessed him on his journey. Irrasti had packed his own bag and quietly walked off in the night, afraid that he may not be able to let his last son leave.

Q'wellen began early that first morning, saying a prayer to Tethrin as he set out east to find Olium. Q'wellen's journey to find Olium lasted almost two years, he faced many perils and found a few loyal friends along the way. Early in the first spring after he left he felt his father's passing and prayed silently for him. Finally late in the second summer after leaving Cannon, Q'wellen found Olium's tower.

As he stood before the sorcerer's tower Q'wellen wondered how he might get in to the strange place. The tower was perfectly round with neither windows nor doors, it seemed the tower was four stories tall but it was difficult to know for sure with no markings on the exactingly smooth stone. Truly great magic had created this wondrous edifice, and this gave Q'wellen hope that this mage could help him.

Having nowhere to enter, Q'wellen walked up to knock on tower wall.

"Hey there don't touch that". Q'wellen jumped at the sound of the human voice.

"Excuse me"? Q'wellen asked seeing no one around.

"I said don't touch that".

Q'wellen looked up, and saw the strangest thing, a bald human's head was sticking right out of the wall!

"And who might you be?" asked the head.

"I am Q'wellen Athori, son of Irrasti of Cannon I seek the mage Olium. Might you be he"?

"Aye lad I be he, hold on a moment" Olium said as he pulled his head back through the wall.

"Over here, lad". Q'wellen saw a hand sticking out of the wall at his level waving to him a few feet to the side.

"Come, come lad tis' perfectly safe take a hold of my hand and step through the wall".

Q'wellen, feeling strange, did as he was told and was suddenly standing inside the tower. He looked behind him and he could see a door!

"Strange magic, Master Olium", Q'wellen said.

"Well it keeps the strangers out", stated Olium laughingly. "What can I do for you lad"?

Q'wellen explained the mission his father had sent him on and told Olium of his long journey to reach the mage. When Q'wellen had finished, Olium looked hard at the youthful elf.

"I can do what you ask, Elfling, but are you ready to pay my price", asked Olium.

"Of course Master Mage, anything, I have very little but I would give what I have".

"Do not be so hasty to agree to terms you have not heard, young one, you may not be so ready when you hear what you must give".

Q'wellen looked worriedly at the mage. "Might he ask for my father's enchanted sword", the young elf thought...

The Mage looked Q'wellen hard in the eye. " Your meager possessions mean nothing to me, what you give must be of value".

"Master Olium I have very little, what could I give that would satisfy you"?

"Q'wellen, the magics that must be used are truly dangerous, to myself and to you, I ask for nothing less than your knowledge of your language".

"My language? You wish me to teach you the elven tongue?"

"No Q'wellen you must give up all knowledge of your native tongue, when the you step through the portal you will have no memory of your language".

"Give up my native tongue! I have lost my home, my family, and my father! My race is decimated in this land, and now you wish for me to give up my last hold on my heritage"! Q'wellen was shouting now.

"I am sorry for the things you have lost Q'wellen, but if you truly wish to be a Bladesinger you must give up yourself and be made anew. I give you the night to decide, I must prepare for the use of such powerful magic. If you decide to go forward on your journey follow the stairs to the top of the tower in the morning. My servants will provide anything you need this night". Olium said and disappeared with a wave of his hand.

Q'wellen fought hard with himself that night and several times he almost walked from the tower. Finally morning came and Q'wellen found himself at the top of the tower. Arcane writings were chalked on floor of the roof and Olium stood before a podium reading from a thick book. Q'wellen looked out across his homeland one last time.

"I have made my decision mage".

"Excellent, I wish you safe journey Q'wellen, I truly hope you find your destiny in the world you go to. Step into the Circle and remain as still as possible".

Q'wellen did as he was told and the Mage began his incantations. The floor around Q'wellen began to waver. He could still see things around him, but abruptly it was as though he were looking through water, everything took on a wavering haze. Suddenly the very air around him began to glow a fierce blue, and the first waves of excruciating pain hit him. He screamed as he felt his body being torn apart. The view around him began to flicker as images blended of the roof he was standing on and a forest he was standing in. His head throbbed trying to sort out where he was, who he was. He screamed again as the energy surrounding him coalesced and he felt shooting pain in his skull. "Your price Q'wellen", he thought he heard someone say. But he could not remember who it was or why someone would be talking to him. In a sudden flash and final stabbing pain through his whole body, Q'wellen found himself standing in a green forest.

He heard a voice that sounded familiar, "The pain will subside with time, but your journey has just begun, good luck Q'wellen".

Q'wellen looked around at the wonderfully green forest; it was the first time he had seen a green forest since the cataclysm. Knowing that he had finally reached the land of Riklaun Sambria, Q'wellen shouted in joy "Father, I have made it, I will become a bladesinger"!

But his joy was short lived when realized he had just spoken in the common tongue.