A Story of Three Parts

Part 1: Reverberation

The people of Naeron never fully accepted the fact that the soil they lived on belonged to Croemerth. As the borders shifted many left, making their way south back to their true homelands or even heading away to start new lives elsewhere. And in response everyday outsiders would take their place. But some who had called the city their homes for generations bitterly accepted the strangers who now ruled them. The city seemed to be split into those who belonged, and those who did not, causing the air to buzz with a nonstop tension that could boil over at any moment.

Rhadin Nabyev was part of those who did not belong long before the war ended. One of the major banks on the city square was purchased by a foreign merchant not too long after the war started. The sale went down in absolute secrecy of who exactly the buyer was until he arrived at his newly purchased bank one day. Even up in the Farath Strait there are some who know the name Nabyev and it didn’t take long for the rumors to spread. The fear of your greatest enemy living a stone's throw away was only exacerbated once the occupation began after the war. Now nothing could be done.

Once the stairs of the bank began to fill with guards during the heist that tension snapped and word began spreading across the city that now was the time. Riots broke out like an explosion centered around the square and the city erupted into chaos. The wall of people smashed through the line of guards around the bank, shoving their way through. But when they reached the vault it stood closed and the remaining guards had emptied into the sewers in pursuit of Into the Wild. And as the troops began to quell the riots the people scattered hidden by their remaining kinsmen. The real miracle of this story is that both forces showed restraint and very few people died. At least at first. Before most of the people knew it soldiers started to pour into Naeron, going to different locations and taking up positions of defense. Croemerth had planned for this, and the lul was enough to lock the city down. Then, the searches began house by house. Systematic. And after a few days they deemed that Into the Wild had escaped. From there the story ends.

But not for Rhadin Nabvey.

When Rhadin arrived at the bank the vault it was opened and assessed. Other than a mess there was no measurable amount of items missing, but it did not take Rhadin long to find out that his lute was gone. But now was not the time to think about that, as inventory had to be taken of the entire vault. And no one wanted to leave the vault open for an extended period with the city’s current state. A few elite members of the city guard were tasked with the job, but the estimated time for them to finish was almost four span. They learned the documents had been stolen two days after Into the Wild had already killed Nezilok and captured Rebecca Able.

Now the Nabyev Syndicate is a family operation and most of the senior members are kin. The majority of the family, however, is scattered far and wide across their massive operation. But the power of that name has always diluted as you travel north and many up in the Farath Strait only know of Nabyev drugs. The magnitude of the failure was lost on the locals, but Rhadin Nabyev knew failure meant a visit from his family in the not so distant future. So all there was to do was wait.

Life went back to normal for Rhadin until the four span passed and the entire vault was sifted through for what was missing. The first message was waiting for him in his office after he returned that evening. A list of arrival times of caravans, accompanied by a note from Rhadin’s grandmother. He was to begin accepting these transfers until all Nabyev assets had been accounted for. The bank had been sold back to its original owner, the deal already completed. After the last shipment, Rhadin would be cut off from family assets indefinitely as punishment. The elf was expecting this but he knew there was always nothing he could do. They would take him back eventually and he knew that, but Rhadin had always planned for this happening some day. He hitched a ride up to Ataraxis, where the drug trade had made him enough money to build a safe house. But when he arrived his family had already gotten to it, stripping the place down to the floorboards.

He really was on his own.

Part 2: Expulsion

Family always came first. At least that was the lie that everyone in the Nabyev family believed. In reality the saying had nothing to do with the people who made up the family. What always came first was the name Nabyev which would far outlive any individual member. Because of this people in the upper ranks of the syndicate kept safe houses that they could fall back to if cut off. It was rare for these safe houses to be searched for and destroyed as exile was always temporary. They might as well get to live out exile in comfort.

When Rhadin sunk to to ground in the charred remains of his secret Ataraxis chateau he realized the gravity of his error. For a long while he just lay there in silence, his mind unable to process what had happened. After crying himself hoarse Rhadin stood, sifting through the charred remains for anything that had survived. A barrel full of salted pork had stayed in tact and Rhadin opened it savoring the food. He spent days in the rubble, wallowing in what his life had turned to, until he ran out of the water. With nothing but the pack he had brought and the horse he had rode in on Rhadin made his way south, refilling his water at a stream along the way. All that mattered now was getting out of Ataraxis. He no longer had the backing of his family name to protect him.

Through storm and thirst and hunger Rhadin rode on stopping only to care for his horse or sleep. He avoided contact with people if possible, and put on a different face for each group that he couldn’t avoid. After what felt like a lifetime Rhadin made it to safety in Bolgruza, the warm gates of Old Royal welcoming him with open arms. It is here that Rhadin’s mind slowly relaxed for the first time in many span. He began reflecting back on his journey before a wave of anger boiled up in his chest. He had forgotten why this had happened. Why he was on the run with nothing to his name. Why he was a nobody.

Into the Wild.

The wild anger cooled and turned into calculated malice. He would show them why they never should have crossed his path in the first place. Rhadin settled in to Old Royal for what may be a long while. He went job to job trying to make enough money to get closer to Varga. If he was going to find Into the Wild the people there would know. But he barely made enough to pay for his room and board, living pay day to pay day. After the first few span Rhadin had a few silver to his name.

He knew every day he waited was another day Into the Wild could be moving away. He had to move while there was some resemblance of a trail. Rhadin bought a cheap axe and signed on to a local Sôbean Trading Company shipment as hired protection. It took him a month of near death encounters with monsters and long sleepless nights for him to make it to Athvan where he picked up the trail. A local job board had a posting for construction jobs: Into the Wild was building a new keep in the Vulpine Woods. This was good, Rhadin thought. They must have bought the land with the money stolen from him. At least he had something to recuperate his losses with.

Rhadin had made a solid amount of money working for the Company and knew one thing. If he earned back what he had lost his family would welcome him back with open arms. And he was still Rhadin Nabyev. News does not travel far. His reputation might not have been tainted here. He made his way to the mercenary groups he knew stopped off in Athvan. The first one laughed him out of the room. The ones after did just about the same. They wanted gold up front, and all he could offer was a half hearted loan with nothing to back it up.

It is here that the elf sunk to the lowest he had been. He retired to his room, blacking out the windows and wallowing deep in the darkness. He drove himself deeper with ale and refused to eat. Rhadin had given up. All he wished now was that the darkness would take him and spare the suffering. And at his lowest moment Rhadin was met with the light of another.

Part 3: Redemption

Rhadin heard a musical voice fill the stale air of the room. He recognized the voice, but was unable to identify it’s owner as the sound faded away. Bright starlight streamed in from across the room and Rhadin shielded his eyes.

"Forgive me" said a soft voice that echoed ever so slightly.

Rhadin rubbed his eyes before trying to focus on the light. As his eyes adjusted he made out a familiar figure, silhouetted in the doorway of his room. The figure slowly closed the door and the room dimmed to the light of a lamp floating in front of the closed door. Rhadin squinted at the figure. Her face was angelic, framed in a dark green hooded cloak. Her clothes were simple traveling leathers, and she carried what looked like a bag of holding over her shoulder. The bag and cloak were made of the same fabric.

The woman flicked her wrist and from her palm jumped small orbs of fire that spread out, lighting the candles around the room. Rhadin pushed off the sheet the covered him and slowly made his way to the edge of the bed. His feet brush against a bottle on the floor as he swung himself around to sitting. Looking around Rhadin took in the conditions he had been living in for gods know how long. Bottles, food scraps, and blankets covered almost half the floor and the room stank like a stable. The woman said something from behind Rhadin, and the smell vanished, replaced with the scent of freshly picked lavender. Rhadin didn’t even notice. The elf paused before slowly making his way to his feet. As he turned the angelic woman stood in the corner, watching with a curious look. Rhadin had forgotten she was here.

“I...I....” Rhadin stood there speechless. He looked around the room when a wave of embarrassment hit him. In a flash he began picking up the mess.

“I, I am so sorry. This place is a mess. Just give me…” Rhadin trailed off, looking down to the bottles in his arms. The angelic woman smiled and his chest filled with fire.

“It’s fine.” her smile faded and she reached her hands. With another wrist flick, the room began to tidy its self. Rhadin sat there stunned and within seconds the place was spotless. The woman looked deeply into Rhadin’s eyes.

“What happened to you?” She asked, reaching out her hand. The chair across the room floated over to her and without looking she took a seat. Rhadin sat there in shock. Her voice was familiar, that is sure. She felt like someone who had faded from his memory long ago. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, sighing deeply. He took a moment to compose himself before the emotion poured out.

“I was devoured by my conviction. They are in the wrong. They took this from me. And I am powerless to take back my life.” Rhadin held back tears of anger. He looked up into the woman’s eyes.

“Why are you here?”

There was a long silence as the two stared at each other. A light seemed to shine in the woman’s eyes.

“My dear Rhadin,” she began. “I am here to burn your world away, and from the ashes you will be reborn. Because you are right. You had everything taken from you, and I am the one who will answer your call. I am your avenging angel.”

Rhadin felt chills run down his spine. Getting his life back. She would do it.

“So you know who I am?”

“Yes.”

“And you know I can reward you”

“Yes.”

Rhadin smiled. He knew someone would eventually take up his call. He would get his life back. It would happen. There was a long silence as Rhadin's mind ran off dreaming about revenge. The woman began to speak, but her voice was just an echo far away and fading. He dreamt for what felt like hours before coming back to reality with a crash. He looked across to the angelic woman.

“So do you accept the services offered to you?” The woman smiled, the light in her eyes turning to fire.

Rhadin didn’t even hesitate.

“I accept your service.”