As you all know, EQ2 is due out in a few days and me and Kry are eager to explore the new world. We've grown very attached to our character's and i wanted to kindof bridge the gap so i wrote the following short story which tells what happened to then during the early events of the official Everquest 2 Lore found on the main EQ2 website
http://everquest2.station.sony.com/ If you havent read the lore yet, it's pretty interesting and you might be a little lost where my story is concerned without reading it. In any case, here it is. I hope you enjoy it. It was fun to write...
Exodus of Heroes
Kryyna strolled through the bustling Plane of Knowledge. She had not found what she sought in the Great Library. The place often was confusing and one had to think like a gnome it seemed to find what one was in search of, she thought. Perhaps she could persuade one of the gnomes in her guild to assist her. She had been growing restless and weary of dealing with the light races however. It was true that the uneasy alliance had been worthwhile and the guild had proven profitable thus far. Their assistance had been invaluable in her battle against the dragon, Ragefire. The glint of her epic weapon brought a smirk to her dark face. Even so, times were growing dark…she couldn’t describe it, but she could feel it on the horizon. She felt the pull of her nature as a denizen of Neriak calling to her, yet she shook her head. No, the time was not yet right for action. Soon perhaps an opportunity would arise that she could take advantage of but for now she supposed she should seek out that gnome translator. Kryyna stopped in front of the Plane of Tranquility stone and steadied herself for the teleport. Suddenly a gnome caster faded into being in front of her. The coincidence would have been humorous to Kryyna had the gnome’s robes not been covered in blood. The gnome began to shriek and babble incoherently. He appeared to be quite frightened about something. Not understanding gnomish, Kryyna could only stare at the pitiful creature in annoyance and impatience. A human mage rushed up to try to calm the gnome and did his best to translate. “What seems to be the problem?†Kryyna ground out. The mage shook his head. “He is very hard to understand but he seems insistant that death is coming.†Kryyna’s eyes narrowed and she took a step back from the platform. Something is indeed wrong here, she thought. It was her last thought before being thrown backwards with considerable force. A magical eruption spread outward from the Tranquility Stone, having a similar effect on all those nearby. Where the stone had been, a planar tear had formed, its black jagged form hungrily devouring the nearby luminance. With a shrill scream, several mounted death knights rode through the tear. Their ghastly forms immobilized the less experienced of the living, though none were spared their cold steel. They poured into the Plane of Knowledge in impossible numbers, overwhelming even the most seasoned of adventures. Kryyna tore her gaze from the onslaught and dove for the Stone that would take her to Freeport. As her fingers brushed the stone another eruption burst forth from the tear enveloping her. The brilliance blinded her; the darkness beckoned to her and she fell endlessly through space and time.
“Hold the line!†Mjornir cried to his fellow Halasians. The barbarian wolf master engaged yet another orc giving the women and children of Halas all the protection he could for their mad plight from their home. His wife, Freyia, was among those who fled. Though she had wanted to be at her husband’s side for the defense of Halas, it was her duty to safeguard their future for she was heavy with child. Their only hope was to brave the winding tunnels of Blackburrow and somehow reach Qeynos, for word of the impending invasion must be spread. The snow was bright with the blood of barbarian and orc alike and the frenzy of the battle only grew as it raged. Mjornir’s wolf, Ceru, snarled at his side, his lips curled back in ferocity. Though they fought bravely, the warriors of Halas were losing ground. The edge of the line was crumbling and the orcs were steering the barbarians into their own city. Their numbers are too great, Mjornir admitted soberly. “For Halas!†cried a berserker, as he charged into the mob of orcs, battleaxe swinging. The berserker managed to decapitate a trio of orcs and seriously maim four more before they cut him down. “We will all die as bravelyâ€, Mjornir told the nearest clansman, then he added with a grin, “But not yet lad!†They howled a war cry and continued the struggle. The shaman that had been magically enhancing the warriors was impaled by an orc spearman, though the orc was repaid in kind. Inevitably the group found their back to the dock in front of the city. From across the pond, archers lent what support they could to the defenders. Mjornir felled another orc and turned to his next opponent. This time it would be a challenge, he thought. A large orc in full plate battle armor advanced toward him and swung at him wielding a spiked mace. He parried the blows and dealt his own in a graceful dance of death, finally sinking his epic claws at the base of the orcs helm. Lost to his bestial fury, Mjornir never saw the other orcish knight with the great sword behind him. In a wave of sudden agony, he watched as his left arm, severed at the elbow, fell to the ground at his feet. Mjornir turned in stunned rage as the orc raised its weapon to end his life. Suddenly he was pushed backwards into the water as Ceru intervened. Mjornir’s last sight before he slipped below the surface was the valiant sacrifice of his loyal wolf companion. The water was red hued as he sunk below the waves and he passed into blissful unconsciousness.
“Really, Guard Nash, this is all a big misunderstanding,†chuckled Dathaniel. The wood elf and his lovely but deadly human spouse had just teleported into Surefall Glade and were making their way into the Qeynos Hills when they were stopped by a squad Qeynos Guards. Nash scowled at the duo and said, “It has been reported by Chandra and Baobob Miller that a woodelf druid and a human monk have been harassing them on more than one occasion. Assaults on the citizens of Qeynos will not be tolerated!†Kaishaea bent her knees in anticipation, but Dathaniel halted her. “Remember tranquility, my love.†He chided, grinning. Her emerald eyes flashed, not the least bit convinced but she held her position. “Surely you won’t take the words of that half wit Baobob or the half dressed Chandra over such fine upstanding adventurers such as us?†Dathaniel smiled innocently. Nash reddened. “Swine! You shan’t soil the honor of milady Chandra like that! Guards! Take them!†Kaishaea leapt into action before the words were out of Nash’s mouth. Her leaping kick toppled Nash and she dodged between two other guards as they tried in vain to strike her. The two guards at the entrance of Surefall drew their swords and took a step forward, only to fall forward helplessly, having just been rooted by Dathaniel. The druid smirked and turned his attention back to the monk, delighted to see her working out her aggression. When she was done, half dozen guards were out of commission, their groans music to the monk’s ears. She turned to face Dathaniel and started to speak, but then her eyes hardened. Dathaniel tilted his head in confusion, and then it rang as the guard bonked him with his mace. The guard was barefoot, having slipped out of his rooted boots. Fortunately for Dathaniel, his Elysian helm protected his skull even if it didn’t protect his pride. The guard chuckled in triumph at the crumpled druid but then his jaw dropped at the sight of Kaishaea. She shook her head then strode toward the unlucky guard menacingly. “Um…remember…tranquility?†he said with a nervous smile. “Oh I’ll get to tranquility. Beating your colleagues senseless was very stress relieving.†Kaishaea purred. The guard’s mace thumped to the ground and he fled desperately, disappearing over the hill. Kai helped Dathaniel up and scolded him for fooling around. The guard reappeared over the hill and Kaishaea sighed. “Some people never learn.†then her eyes widened as an enormous horde of orcs crested the hill. Dusting himself off, Dathaniel told the guards, “Fellows, I contend that we have a more pressing problem than a simple misunderstanding. Let us make for Qeynos with the wings of eagles.†His magic surrounded them all and they did indeed give flight such as the eagles would have been hard pressed to keep up. The distant, but ever present sound of the orcish drums driving them hard toward the city.
Mjornir squinted at the flickering light. He was at the bottom of the pond in front of Halas where Ceru had pushed him. The thought brought a shard of grief to his heart but he pushed it aside for the time being. I should be dead, he thought to himself. Then awareness dawned on the warmth of the magical earring he possessed which allowed him to breathe underwater. His arm was also partially healed from the regenerative spirits the shaman had been casting during the battle. Slowly and quietly, Mjornir swam to the surface. He broke the surface with no sound and took a slow survey of the area. The orcish troops howled in victory and Mjornir’s heart sank. Halas was lost. His sorrow turned to anger and he nearly burst from the pond. Quickly, he tempered his fury and remained unnoticed. It is true that he could die gloriously as his clansmen had. Gloriously yes…but futilely. He focused himself and determined that he must make the journey to Qeynos. The warriors that fell this day must be remembered and those that were able to flee must be looked after. Drawing the spirits to his side, he beckoned that they render him undetectable by the orcs. He quietly climbed out of the water and followed the path his wife and unborn son had taken just hours before.
"Citizens of Freeport," Lucan called out in a booming voice that carried across the battlefield, "your Overlord has brought you victory this day! Now is the time to bring justice to the criminals who have returned to our lands! Turn your swords against the Knights of Truth and the Priests of Marr and let none of them escape!"
The shouted proclamation roused Kryyna from her slumber in the secret tunnel next to the PoK book. Thunderous roars and the clamor of battle drew her to the mouth of the tunnel. Freeport was under siege, but by who was unclear. Many orcs lay dead across the plain as well as many of the inhabitants of the city. Lucan’s words echoed in her mind. He’s seizing control of the city finally! She knew this day must come and how fortunate that she was to bear witness! Her musings were interrupted by a dwarf paladin and a militiaman that fell from the city wall. Their armored forms crashed to the ground at Kryyna’s feet. She knew this red bearded dwarf. His name was Decklan and he was a member of her guild. They had fought together before and though they were not friends, he had been useful once. The dwarf and the militiaman struggled on the ground, wrestling with a short sword. Decklan was stronger and nearly had the sword in position to thrust it in the militiaman’s chest. “Kryyna,†he hissed. “Help me with this will ye lass?†The dark elf took a step back and began to cast. The light of her magic flickered off the city walls and played across the combatants’ armor and the features of their scowling faces. Then Kryyna unleashed her power on the dwarf, knocking him off the militiaman and stunning him. The guard was wary at first but didn’t hesitate long. “What have you done,†Decklan whispered, “You‘re one of us.†The dwarf’s eyes widened in horror as his enemy drove the blade deep into his prone form ending his life. The militiaman jerked his sword free and turned to the betrayer, raising his weapon in salute. An evil smile began to spread on the dark elf’s face. Kryyna’s eyes narrowed and she inclined her head. Oh yes, she thought, it’s good to be bad.
“Declare yourself!†called the guard at the Qeynos gate. The archers had him in their sites as the weary figure staggered across the blood-soaked plain toward the city. “Mjornir Direfrost of Halas.†He croaked. His wounds and grief had taken their toll on the wolf master. After a brief discussion, the mighty gate groaned open to admit him. His vision seemed to swim in front of him and he stumbled to his knees, his one remaining arm reaching out to steady him. Mjornir raised his head as Dathaniel and Kaishaea rushed out to aid him. “I’ll be needin no help from a puny woodelf!†he joked. “Although yer fair lass here is a sight for sore—“He broke off as his eyes met those of his beloved wife, her silver hair blowing in the wind. He could see so much in her face. The open wound of the loss of their home was there but muted, for her love for him burned hot in her eyes. There was something else there too…pride. Freyia smiled and looked to her bosom pulling back her cloak to reveal the hope that Mjornir so desperately sought. The infant merely slumbered in innocence, oblivious to the presence of his father. The immense gate swung closed protecting those within from the waning chaos of the world. Norrath had changed but there would always be hope…there would always be a new sunrise…and the adventure would always continue.
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