This is a work in progress between myself and my partner who is not signed on here but he's a good guy who has the better half belonging to my own main character. I hope to get this published with his help but we'll see what happens as this story unfolds.
Forgotten Realms is a copyright of Wizards of the Coast, where this story takes place.
Chapter 1 and Prologue
A century has passed since the Spellplague ravaged the land of Faerun, which is part of the Prime Material Plane of Toril. Since then, many things have changed; old and forgotten lands had appeared while other places were either wiped out completely, changed into what is now called Plaguewrought Lands, or is still affected by unruly and wild magics to varying degrees. A good example on how things have changed when Mystra, the Goddess of the Weave that controlled Arcane Magic, was killed by Shar's assassin, is a castle on the edge of the High Moor. This castle is named Dragonspear Castle, where a portal to a Hellish dimension had been sealed up after a large army of men and women from three different municipalities joined forces to cleanse the unholy place. Before the Spellplague occurred, there was a standing army to make sure the place didn't again become infested with demons or was invaded by those from the Underdark which a passage exists even today in the depths of the fortress. Now, it stands empty as it once did as losses are slowly recovered from and civilization is slowly given a much needed boost. It is a time for new heroes as well as villains to rise. It is a time of uncertainty, of hope gained as well as lost, of love found and monsters slain, and of adventures that lie ahead for those that would dare tread such dangerous roads in pursuit of glories untold or for more personal reasons such as seeking redemption for past misdeeds. Whatever the case might be, this is one such tale.
Being a lone wanderer, a sword for hire, and so much more was hard work even at the best of times. Sometimes one got lucky and found a relatively easy job that required something simple such as slaying a roving band of pesky goblins. Others were a bit harder, such an example being finding a magical item in a fortified encampment filled with everyday monsters and wild animals that have made their homes in such places. Then there were the jobs only the best dare take, such as clearing a long abandoned castle that could potentially have a portal to a Hellish Plane of Torment and Pain that needed to be closed lest an army of demons pour out of the ruins. Today was one of those days that this particular lone wanderer wished she had taken a bit of an easier job, closing the distance between herself and a monster that would not be easy to take down, even for her, but the gods had been with her so far despite the fact she wondered often if they still paid any mind to Toril anymore. Considering she had been born in the midst of the greatest chaos and darkness the world had ever seen, she tended to lean with the idea that the gods were either dead or just didn't care anymore, either way it was the same considering the mess the world was in, or had been for a whole century, the chaos finally settling down only last year or so.
Considering her luck today, the elven warrior had to wonder as she dodged a powerful swipe from a rock giant that had thought it a good idea to make its home near the edge of Dragonspear Castle's outer walls, or rather what was left of it anyway. As a rule, rock giants, or stone giants as they were more commonly called, were considered one of the best when it came to slinging rocks great distances, but to her credit, the black cloaked woman had managed to get into melee range without having a single rock tossed her way, having by some small miracle spotting the creature before it had seen her and had thus been able to sneak up on it until a few feet away from being able to strike at it. Her father had trained her well in the half century she had stayed at home before starting out on the road in her own efforts to make a good name for herself. Now a hundred even, the elven woman's brown eyes narrowed to slits as she took a temporary reprieve behind a largely unbroken piece of the outer wall, needing to catch her breath since she had had to fight every step of the way once the old castle that had been abandoned yet again after the Spellplague came and went, no thanks to a large group of wild orcs that weren't under the green skinned hand of one of King Obould's descendants, the founder of the Many Arrows Kingdom long since dead, as well as a group of kobold slaves the orcs had kept, came into sight a couple of hours ago. Now, with a rock giant in her way to the castle, the elven warrior was getting quite tired as well as annoyed. The sound of thunderous footsteps sounded as the giant looked for her, too close to effectively squash her with any thrown projectile, so it was opting for an up close and personal touch. A bad move on the giant's part.