Earning the Badge

[Noa]

Caladril FV
Maniac Battlewizard
Posts: 125
(8/2/02 9:41 am)
Reply  Earning the Badge
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*Caladril sits in his hut in Kelethin, pondering over his journal. It has been long and long since he last sat down to write, his travels spanning the globe and adventures with friends by the multitude. Dipping the quill in the inkpot by his side, he sets it to the parchment and pauses.... how to begin? Shrugging, he goes with the basic premise of the Battlewizard Creed. "When in doubt, rush in and blow it up!"*

Dear Journal,

It seems I am getting closer to my goal of becoming a Battlewizard. I have made it my goal ever since that day during the first few weeks of my training when Tarker Blazetoss let slip the term. He was rather upset at himself, it seemed, but at last, I think due my stubborness, he explained to me what a Battlewizard actually was.

*chuckles at the memory and dips his quill in the ink again, thinking back to that day long ago*

---------------wavy thinkin back lines----------------------------

"You are a fool!"

"Please, Master Tarker, PLEEEEASE tell me what a Battlewizard is!"

"No!"

"PLEEEASE PLEEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLE..."

"Shut UP! You won't let this rest, will you?" Caladril shakes his head no. "Well, I guess it will not hurt for you to have a little information about those fools." Tarker takes a deep breath.

"Caladril, a Battlewizard is a wizard of Tunare who has trained in battle tactics, is REQUIRED to wear smelly, heavy armor, and basically, is cannon fodder thrown into the mass, churning battle of good vs. evil. They do not teach other wizards, other than Battlewizard tactics, are hindrances to the guild when it comes to guild priorities, and while they plan somewhat, they tend to rush into battle depending on gifts granted by Tunare more than their wits. All in all, they are fools, and are an embarassment to this guild."

Caladril pondered this for a brief moment, then blurted out, "I want to fight evil! I want to be a Battlewizard! "

------------wavy back to the present lines----------------------

*Caladril chuckles and begins writing again*

Tarker came very close to kicking me out of the wizard guild that day. He knew my past, my mixed-blood parentage, and my desire to serve Tunare. He was one of those who had comforted me after I had failed to be accepted into the cleric or paladin guild, saying not all are called to serve Tunare in the same way, telling me I had a gift for magic and encouraging me to explore that gift. Even so, after I shouted that I wanted to be a Battlewizard, he called me an idiot and told me to go home.

I begged and pleaded for him to let me stay, to learn. He eventually relented, and so I continued my training in normal wizardry. In the back of my mind though, was the thought of one day, maybe....

My travels have now taken me to places that most only dream of seeing. The adventures I have had are the stuff of bard's tales. I won't write of that nonsense here. Now I will tell of how I got set on the path of training to be a Battlewizard.

The other young wizards and I knew all of the names of the handful of Battlewizards, and knew some by sight. The stories that were told of their exploits were legendary. More than one of us talked of the day we could train to be one. It was just normal apprentice talk, as I don't think many but a few were even half serious about it, but if Tarker or one of the masters heard it we were sent to scrub floors on the spot.

It was at my initiation in the 20th circle of power that I met my first Battlewizard in person and spoke to him. Well, I didn't get to speak, as such. Kolaris, who eventually became my trainer, told me to meet him in the forest at the spires, and to be sure to run the whole way. Then he immediately left. Battle Wizards are quite rare, it seems, and are VERY rarely around the guildhall, and if they do show up they do not stay long. Now that I know more, I know why. Tarker advised me against meeting with Kolaris, and he did not even have to hear my reply to know my decision.

*grins to himself and thinks back*

--------------------wavy thinkin back lines------------------------

Caladril stands fidgeting before Tarker in the quiet ceremonial hall filled with fellow wizards listening to Tarker drone on about being granted his 20th circle of power, the responsiblities to the guild now that travel magics are possible, blah blah blah. He is quite bored. A murmur of voices in the rear and the sound of firm footsteps causes the spectators to turn and look. Tarker, being the last (except for Caladril) to notice, caught up in his lecture, drones on for a few more moments then stops. He sends a stern, piercing look over Caladril's shoulder, causing Caladril to stop daydreaming and turn and look himself.

Striding down the aisle of the ceremonial hall is an elf dressed in finely crafted, glinting elven chainmail with a golden emblem pinned to the upper left. As he gets closer, Caladril notices he reeks of sweat and smoke and his cloak is slightly singed. Stopping and giving Tarker and Caladril a look that makes Tarker's look weak as warm milk, he bellows out in a parade-ground voice, "Hah! A party! No one invites me anymore. Is THIS that stripling of a wizard who thinks he has what it takes?"

Tarker was visibly irritated, which is surprising in itself, as it was rumored he wouldn't get excited if his robe was on fire. He frowned and said, "Kolaris, please go sit down or leave us please. We are in the middle of a ceremony, if you haven't noticed."

Kolaris looked amused, looking at all of the wizards in their neat robes with clean, uncalloused hands. He ignored Tarker and strode closer to Caladril, looking him up and down. Caladril felt rather uncomfortable, yet something in him called out to this this dashing, heroic figure that so many stories had been told about. Kolaris said, still in his loud voice, "Caladril, meet me at the wizard spires in the forest as soon as you are dismissed from here. No, don't use that spell you just learned, I want you to run. The whole way. If you stop and walk I will know it, so don't even think about it. You are soft, boy, but if you don't get yourself killed we can make a Battlewizard of you yet. You are now in training, if you have the guts. Don't show up at all, it matters not to me. I don't want to waste my time if you are weak."

Kolaris left the hall, and Tarker dismissed everyone, as he was nearly done anyway. He grabbed Caladril by the arm and took him aside.

"Caladril," he said, "you are now of the 20th circle, so you may decide the course of your training. However, if you value your hide you will not go meet with Kolaris. He is a Battlewizard, and one of the best, but even so he is not quite right in the head. I made the mistake of mentioning you and your wild streak to him. You know what I mean, the habit you have of acting like some silly dwarf or wild elf and rushing headling into trouble. Now he wants to meet you, to see if he can train you, and it's all my fault. You know how Battlewizards are regarded, here. High elf wizards are noted world-wide for calm, clear thought and making wise choices. Battlewizards, while admittedly are usually competant at what they do, are not. If you begin his training and follow that path, that reputation will reflect on you as well. You must decide if that is how you want others to think of you. I advise against it."

----------------wavy back to the present lines----------------------------

*Caladril dips quill to ink and starts writing again, still grinning*

I think something in my look made Tarker see the choice I was going to make, because he just shook his head and walked away.

I met with Kolaris in the forest then, and to compare him to my normal teachers is, well... night and day is close, but doesn't quite capture the vast difference.

*chuckles to himself*

I DID walk part of the way, I am embarassed to say, while I was in areas quite thick with trees and the going was rough. There was no way for him to see me, or so I reasoned. I learned one thing about Kolaris. He didn't have to see me to know I walked. He could tell more in one glance and learn more about you in one conversation than most folks can learn in a lifetime.

My old masters could lecture on and on and on, and not even notice if one of us left the room. Kolaris's first lecture? It went like this, after asking if I had run the whole way and hearing me say "yes, of course!".

"Your allies in battle will save your life. To gain allies you need to be dependable. To be dependable you need to have honor. Honor begins with the truth, and truth begins with not being an idiot and flapping your lips about some nonsense we both know is a pile of dung. Now get up off the ground, maggot, I didn't hit you that hard. That is lesson one. We have more training to do, and I doubt you will make it past the first day. Prove me wrong, if you can."

I quickly learned to not even stretch the truth. Total honesty, total dedication to the goal of becoming a Battlewizard and earning the Badge. He would expect no less, and told me every time we met to train that he didn't expect me earn the Badge, that I should just be a quitter and go back to studying quietly in some library. Now I see it was simply a prod, to keep me trying, but at the time I was rather infuriated and tried that much harder. Again, his insight into what drives me makes me shake my head in wonder. Under the facade of the seemingly battlemad and somewhat overbearing Kolaris was an elf of great wisdom and a piercing insight about people and their natures.

A requirement of being a full-fledged Badge-wearing Battle Wizard is wearing mithril chain, blessed by Tunare, into battle. This is now at last within my reach. I have been presented with a fine Tunic by Fayd, a representative of the priests of Tunare and a member of the adventuring guild Saga. I am expected to craft the rest myself, and have trained in smithing toward that end. A full set should hopefully not take too much longer.

My final task has not been given to me yet, the task which will earn me the Badge and a surname. I am sure it will be quite challenging. I wait in anticipation, honing my skills with my companions of many adventures, the folks of the Saga guild. Within their ranks I have met many who show the attributes of a good Battlewizard, though there are few who cast these sorts of magics. It is a state of mind more than anything, I suppose.

The students I learned with during my early years now look at ME strangely, I discovered, and I do not care to be around them and listen to their boring discussions. They have had surnames since their 20th season, strutting about in their neatly pressed robes, getting all excited about some scrap of parchment. I shudder to think of them put in the situations I have been lately faced with. For me, being chased by a 30 foot tall cyclops around an island is exhilirating and challenging. They would just panic and die, I think.

Enough of this. There is evil to fight and a Badge to earn!

*Caladril puts his journal and writing materials away, knowing that he will probably not make another entry until he gains his Badge.*

Edited by: Caladril FV at: 8/2/02 8:42:43 am

[Noa]

Caladril FV
Maniac Battlewizard
Posts: 132
(8/5/02 12:44 pm)
Reply  The Past
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Caladril steps out onto the platform outside his hut and ponders what he will do now.

Help the Coldain? They seem to be doing well, now that Saga has been helping them against the giant hordes. Not to mention helping them reduce the huge overstock of booze in their taverns! He chuckles to himself.

With the thought of "tavern" comes a small craving for some elven wine. Thinking he will just step in for a moment, he makes his way toward the tavern near his home.

After tipping the nice barmaid well for her prompt service, he sits alone in a corner, thinking and sipping his wine. Writing in his journal has re-opened the channels of his memory, and he thinks back to the time when he finally found out about his father.

-----------------wavy thinkin back lines---------------------

"Thou hast the heart of thy father, young Caladril, which was brave and good. Unfortunately, thou also hast his curiosity and craving for excitement, and may Holy Tunare preserve thee from his madness. I do not tell thee thou canst never become a Priest of our Goddess, but becoming an Acolyte in training just does not suit thee, now. Perhaps when thou art older and more settled."

Trying to hide his deep disappointment, Caladril turns away from Yeolarn Bronzeleaf. Then it hits him what the High Priest has just said.

Turning back, he asks, "Madness? What madness do you speak of, Master Bronzeleaf?

Yeolarn looks at Caladril for a few long moments, his eyebrows raised. "It seems I speak overmuch. I see though dost not know, as yet. Seek out thy mother. Thou art old enough, now, but it is her tale to tell."

Burning with curiosity, his emotions in a turmoil ,"What madness?" he mutters over and over as he runs to the small hut he shares with his mother in the forest. He completely forgets his rejection for apprenticeship in the Priest guild.

Bursting into the hut, he startles his mother as she sits at the table organinizing packets of spice. She leaps to her feet, hand to her mouth and barely stifles a scream.

"What madness?!?" Caladril blurts out.

"If any be mad in this room, it is you, my son! What has taken you, to burst in and nearly scare me to death? How did your tests go? Will you be a priest?"

Still panting from his run and refusing to get sidetracked, Caladril says, "Father... Master Bronzeleaf... madness and hopes I don't get it. What does he mean, mother?"

Serenicia goes a bit pale, now understanding what Caladril asks. Still, she does not want to talk about it. "I don't know what you mean, silly boy. Now go wash up and come help me with these. I have an order to fill in the city." She waves a hand toward the spices.

Still babbling on slightly out of breath, Caladril says, "I want to know what he meant and he said to ask you and that I was was old enough now and it is your tale to tell!"

"Stop this foolishness, and go wash up."

"Please tell me, mother! Please PLEASE please please please PLE...."

"I don't know where you pick up that stubborn streak! Pehaps from... Ah well. Go get us some cool tea from the cellar, and I will tell you. I do not think you will be happy, but I will tell."

Caladril dashes around getting the refreshments while his mother puts away the spices.

Sitting with their tea before them, they eye each other. Caladril can see his mother is upset and he does not want to upset her more. He tries to stifle his impatience, waiting for her to begin.

With another searching look at her son, so young and yet so determined, she gives a deep sigh and says, "I guess you are old enough. It is not a happy tale, and you may wish I had not told it when I am done. It is a tale of shame in the view of some High Elves, and I wish you had never asked. You have a right to know, though, so listen, and listen well. I will not tell it again." Serenicia takes a sip of tea, and continues, the look on her face one of pain.

"Years ago, there was a Faer'Dal ranger who became quite skilled and, following in the footsteps of his own father, was granted the title of Huntmaster to the King during the final phase of the Great War. His name was Gathos, and to this day many young wood elves are named Gathos, in his honor, for his bravery.

"You may have even heard some of the tales told of his accomplishments on the battlefield in the last few years before his disappearance. Mightiness born of madness, most would say. He would slash his way into the heart of enemy formations, by himself most of the time, and all knew he cared nothing for his own life. His prowess was such that he did not die, and many a time foes would look to see him racing towards them, far ahead of his own troops, eyes wild and swords waving in the air, and they would turn and flee. Although his growing madness was uncomfortable for his companions and troops to behold, his simple presence was enough to turn the tide of a battle.

"His madness caused him to shirk his responsibilities more and more, though, and he disappeared for great lengths of time when he was needed. Finally, the King was forced to strip Gathos of his title. He then disappeared for good. That is the story most know. To some, llike Master Bronzeleaf and of course, myself, that is not the ending they are familiar with.

"You see... Gathos is your father, Caladril."

Caladril sits, stunned. Working his suddenly dry mouth, he takes a sip of tea and forces words past his lips, "Tell me.... more... of him. How you met, where you lived, things like that."

Tears starting to form in Serenicia's eyes, glistening in her long lashes.

"It was not how you seem to think, Caladril. I only met your father once. I knew who he was, had heard stories about him and knew him by sight, but we had never spoken before. And I am sure he did not know me.

"We met in the forest. It was a calm, spring day, and I was out gathering herbs. I heard the sound of weeping and quietly neared it. In a small thicket I found a wild elf, garbed as if for battle, kneeling and crying. He must have heard me then, and turned to me so quickly it was nearly too fast to see, on his feet in a crouch with weapons appearing as if by magic in his hands. For a moment I thought I was going to die. Nothing but madness was in those eyes! Then the look fled, and a look of heartbreak crossed his features, features which looked almost carved and surely were not accustomed to showing such emotion. Face twisting and collapsing in anguish, he went to his knees again, head hanging, and begged me to leave him be.

"I should have, I suppose, but I am glad I did not. Instead I went to him and knelt by him. I gently pulled his head to my breast, holding him close while he wept. I don't know what I said to him, just things you say to comfort people that are distressed. He quieted at last, and raising his head he looked into my eyes. Such power in that gaze! I was not prepared, and the heat of it swept me away. I did not fight it, and I do not believe I could have had I wanted to. In that one instant my heart was his, forever. The next I knew I was lying in the grass, gazing up at the stars through the gaps in the branches of the thicket. Gathos was gone, and I never saw him again."

She looks at Caladril, tears flowing freely down her smooth cheeks now, her voice getting shaky with emotion. "No one has ever seen him again, to my knowledge. The result of that brief union was you, a gift from Tunare herself. As strange as it may sound, I love him to this day, and will have no other."

Shaking her head as if in disbelief, her voice gets a little firmer, with a slight tone of exasperation.

"The reason we live in the woods is because of my love for him. Our people have never really accepted me since you were born. You see, Caladril, our folk are not very keen on mixing of our so-called "noble" bloodlines. Some are not this way, but the majority would just as soon not be reminded that any but High Elves exist on Norrath. Not that you show much mixed blood, but some can always imagine it if they know of your parentage.

"Anyway, I found out more about Gathos over the years, for you mainly, and discovered he had had a wife and child in the tree city of Kelethin long ago. Gathos' wife was murdered during the war by a raid of trolls and orcs teleported by dark elves. They appeared in Kelethin itself, slaying and looting before all were finally hunted down and slain. His young daughter was never found, dead or alive. After that was when Gathos went mad, and he changed into a force of nature on the battlefield. It is rumored that he may still be alive and searching for his daughter, though it is likely she ended up in a troll cookpot. I discovered his mother still lives, and not far from here is where her cabin stands. Strangely enough, she is part human, though looks mostly high elven, and is so ashamed of it she will not show her face to any if she can avoid it."

"So, my son, you are the decendent of a high elven/human/wood elven mix, and that mix with my own line, which numbers a few Faer'Dal as well down through the generations. You look pure high elven, thank Tunare. Not because I am prejudiced, but because those who do not know will not treat you badly because of your lineage."

Caladril sits quietly, unable to speak. He had grown up thinking his father had been a noble Paladin of Tunare, and had died fighting orcs to allow his pregnant mother to flee. Thinking back, he realizes she never really said that, it was something that sort of developed over the years of him guessing and wanting to know more of his father. Well, now he knew. What a thing to digest!

----------------wavy back to the present lines--------------

Now getting more than slightly drunk, Caladril toasts the father he never knew. It is no wonder he has become a Battlewizard! Well, nearly. Still a few tests to take.

Hiccuping, Caladril toasts Tarker as well, stuffy and serious though he may be, for helping him convince his mother to move to the city to peddle her cooking supplies. The forest is too dangerous for a person to live in, alone. Merchant Tyslin deserves some praise for that too, and Caladril toasts him as well. It is not a secret that Tyslin looks at Serenicia as more than just a rent-paying merchant in his building, and he hopes his mother can put the past in it's place and find love again. She still has a wall up though, when it comes to that. It's only been a hundred years or so, can't expect her to just forget and move on like one of those short-lived humans!

The barmaid looks over and sees the strange wizard in his chainmail and dusty cloak muttering to himself and raising his glass of wine repeatedly. Shaking her head, she wipes down the bar, reflecting on the odd character traits adventurers have. They always seem to tip well though, so she tries not to let slip just how kooky she thinks they are.


Edited by: Caladril FV at: 8/5/02 11:52:31 am