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BASHER'S RETIREMENT? by OrcBasher Basher returned from a faith shaking adventure only to have not only his mental status in an uproar but his personal belongings looted and pillaged. "Stupid damn tieves! .. I oughta..." Basher mentally noted to have a "talk" with Natlos knowing that the sly thief had more then once commented on his items. Besides the physical damage he had taken, mainly having all his blood drained from his body.....(ember....) Basher had recovered well. Still his axe felt akward in his hand. Basher grimly accepted his adventuring days might be over. He would only travel if dire need erupted. His kin or so he had called them once seem seperated and not really his friends anymore. Basher had been cut off from the world he had only days before called home. Was it worth it? Basher had been trained like other dwarves that showed skill in the art of forging. Retiring as an adventurer would be relaxing and the work would improve his skills he so loved to participate in. Besides, he had one friend who wouldnt leave his side. Although outwardly the little gnome he called Scree had been recently more of a nuisance..... As the sun set and white pristine moonlight streamed through his temporary quarters Basher realized he was glowing. Not from the light, he shaded his hand from the shutters to affirm what he saw and soon Basher shuddered. Standing and shivvering from the cold he opened the windows to see what could possibly be causing the light. And there low and behold stood his old mountain home. Yet from his second story house he knew not where the ground had gone. He turned quickly to see if his bed was still there but behind him stood only the warm forge heated walls of his old home. His father and mother both old and withering with age but no more defenseless then the soldiers that guarded his town sat discussing and often laughing at passing remarks. The smoke of his fathers pipes and the drinking and sloshing of ale filled his senses and Basher for several moments truly believed he was there. Then suddenly it was gone and he stood in absolute blackness. Fear hit basher like a cold barrel of water. He was in the Underdark. As black faded to the shimmering colors of infravision he remembered acutely where he was. The chamber his purchasers had used to torture and kill countless others of his race. They gave him this chamber to sleep in, as a macabre reminder of what would happen to him. Drow entered spat on him and looked coldly at him. Yet they dared not touch him. He was worth more to them alive then dead. Especially since he held the thoughts of Underdark again faded and warped to the event that had occured a few days ago. A Worm....several attacking him and his party. Several died and Basher no matter how valiantly he fought still couldnt win against the overwhelming odds....Before he could entirely remember a face appeared before him. Wise and very old and extremely dwarven features sat staring, half-admiring half-inquisitive at him. It was moments later that Basher acknowledged he was having a god-sent vision! "Moradin himself! Praise to ye Moradin!" Basher exclaimed exuberantly. The visions of the past soon forgotten his dream-like surroundings faded. It was then the moment that Basher would never forget .... that the figure of Moradin spoke. "Ye seem troubled kin....peraps ye'd be better resuming yer adventures like ye dream of. " The wisdom in his eyes made Basher's knees tremble and again his thoughts were a chaotic whirl. Basher looked at the divine figure and couldnt find the words to speak, so humbled was he. The figure nodded again and shimmered and dissapeared. A pedestal stood before him and he saw the object in perfect absolute detail. This time Basher found the words to speak "Dear Moradin....I understand!"
~Basher |
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