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The final days of an era long gone....


Strider

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The wind blew, stark and cold, cutting deep. Ice and snow and pain, wracked the lands. As Sosaria shivered in this wintry grasp..so too did a mind and body, shivering as one with the world it had called home...for so long. Times were dark, tension, like threads of black widows web...energy pulsing..begging to devour life, hung in the air. One spot shone...barely still, but hanging on, an other-worldly glow, from a tired face. A voice, escaped thin lips, that once knew wine, and laughter, and hope.

You brought me far old friend...even in these days when I was but shadow and memory... and it began here. This mountain, where you awoke my being into Sosaria....oh...Sosaria....I have wept for you, and you for me. These stones..this place...memories...lost....in... Wind. I am leaving now.. I think. My work, oh ho ho, my work..endless as it is, seeks now a reprieve. Come snowy hills, let pass my feet to homeward paths. I go from this world..but perhaps a part of me will stay behind...only time will tell.

Mist and terror, filled this place, but he moved forward, and up..and on...for ages he had known this land, never tiring as he had now. It was not darkness, or chaos, or his foes, which had over thrown him... it was age. Time. He could pass from age to age and time to time, crossing all boundaries..but even the Ancients must rest. He reached his destination...but he knew he would not see those marble walls, that glorious abode crafted of magic and mystery..

He lifted his hands over the portal home...and smiled...for a moment...the sky was clear...the sky.... Was blue. And he...was gone. Had there been eyes watching, they would thought he entered Wind.The city of mages. However, older eyes...would know...other things.

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Thorin had been mining for three days since Strider left camp. He followed him far across the plains and forests to the entrance to Wind... setup camp at a mine nearby and waited. Waiting for this was like waiting for the sun to go out, when you knew it was close to becoming a reality. For several hundred years Thorin and Strider had lived as brothers. Whatever Strider was..human, elf, something else.. it did not matter, they had been through a lot together.

In recent ages Thorin himself had served good, both moderate and fanatical, loved a woman, fallen into the hands of evil, and walked the thin line between both worlds. And now, he dug. Deep, into the dirt and stone. His dwarven hands crusted and old. And he waited. Carrying a barrel of shadow ore to the mine entrance he looked out upon the frozen world....and there it was... Blue.

The sky, the world, the air. Only for a second, a flash.... after hundreds of years of wandering Sosaria...only a flash. It was enough. It was him, and that was all that mattered.

Thorin set to work, smelting his ore, preparing ingots...and as he shaped the last of them...he saw.. Blue. This was shadow ore, of that he was certain..not valorite...but....now it was..all of it. The ingots he had formed before, the ore waiting to be completed...Blue.

Thorin wept..deeply, warmly, and happily. His brother was gone...that body was no more. But the spirit..the jokes..the laughter. Something was coming...Thorin was too old for this kind of chaos..his brother would have known that...and so he did...

Like a mad man driven to an endless task Thorin shaped large blue stones...shaped, and carved and chipped...working utnil his hands frozen and his body ached. But his heart smiled... his work complete before him were three statues...

Three blue birds.

Three chances for a new world.

Three more tasks, and he could rest.

He penned a letter.. he did not know who now resided at Olympus.. he knew "Britannia" was in chaos...though why, he did not really care... he penned a letter to an office, not a person, those old names were probably long at rest.

To The Senator of Genesis:

I, Thorin Oakshield, former Hunter of the Undead, warrior at the Battle of Trinsic, former general of the Crimson Knights, friend of the Empire, and now druid of the earth and simple miner, and brother to the once Ancient Strider, set a task, in His Name, before you.

Strider has left this world. He as you knew him, is no more. His body faded away, harnessing the powers of the City of Wind, to return him to the world from which he came so many ages ago. His spirit, however, and his mission... are eternal. Three birds will lead the way to a new hope, if you so desire such a presence once again. Blue, was his color. Birds, were his friends. And stone was his resolve in completing his tasks in this world. Find these three in one. Find one example or all three which I have carved... But find them. In the coming months, they will appear in the places he loved most. Do not give up. There is always hope, where there is the color blue.

-Thorin.

With this letter penned and sent forth.. Thorin turned to the mine, and smiled. From rock... to rock. Not death.. but sleep. He took a few short steps into the mine, sat upon a chair of stone, and faded from the eyes of man.

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Thorin had been mining for three days since Strider left camp. He followed him far across the plains and forests to the entrance to Wind... setup camp at a mine nearby and waited. Waiting for this was like waiting for the sun to go out, when you knew it was close to becoming a reality. For several hundred years Thorin and Strider had lived as brothers. Whatever Strider was..human, elf, something else.. it did not matter, they had been through a lot together.

In recent ages Thorin himself had served good, both moderate and fanatical, loved a woman, fallen into the hands of evil, and walked the thin line between both worlds. And now, he dug. Deep, into the dirt and stone. His dwarven hands crusted and old. And he waited. Carrying a barrel of shadow ore to the mine entrance he looked out upon the frozen world....and there it was... Blue.

The sky, the world, the air. Only for a second, a flash.... after hundreds of years of wandering Sosaria...only a flash. It was enough. It was him, and that was all that mattered.

Thorin set to work, smelting his ore, preparing ingots...and as he shaped the last of them...he saw.. Blue. This was shadow ore, of that he was certain..not valorite...but....now it was..all of it. The ingots he had formed before, the ore waiting to be completed...Blue.

Thorin wept..deeply, warmly, and happily. His brother was gone...that body was no more. But the spirit..the jokes..the laughter. Something was coming...Thorin was too old for this kind of chaos..his brother would have known that...and so he did...

Like a mad man driven to an endless task Thorin shaped large blue stones...shaped, and carved and chipped...working utnil his hands frozen and his body ached. But his heart smiled... his work complete before him were three statues...

Three blue birds.

Three chances for a new world.

Three more tasks, and he could rest.

He penned a letter.. he did not know who now resided at Olympus.. he knew "Britannia" was in chaos...though why, he did not really care... he penned a letter to an office, not a person, those old names were probably long at rest.

To The Senator of Genesis:

I, Thorin Oakshield, former Hunter of the Undead, warrior at the Battle of Trinsic, former general of the Crimson Knights, friend of the Empire, and now druid of the earth and simple miner, and brother to the once Ancient Strider, set a task, in His Name, before you.

Strider has left this world. He as you knew him, is no more. His body faded away, harnessing the powers of the City of Wind, to return him to the world from which he came so many ages ago. His spirit, however, and his mission... are eternal. Three birds will lead the way to a new hope, if you so desire such a presence once again. Blue, was his color. Birds, were his friends. And stone was his resolve in completing his tasks in this world. Find these three in one. Find one example or all three which I have carved... But find them. In the coming months, they will appear in the places he loved most. Do not give up. There is always hope, where there is the color blue.

-Thorin.

With this letter penned and sent forth.. Thorin turned to the mine, and smiled. From rock... to rock. Not death.. but sleep. He took a few short steps into the mine, sat upon a chair of stone, and faded from the eyes of man.

It is sad to know that the character we called Strider will no longer walk among us but it is hoped that his spirit and maybe brothers will visit us.

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