Private Tales Out of the Falwood

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

MylesWidogast

Seeking knowledge is always a constant journey.
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Myles Widogast had been with an audience of Elves as he was sent there by his Master; Maho Sparhawk to initiate in his primary training. Months and months of hard work, sweat and blood have passed and it was time that the Elves send him on his way to become greater than what he is now. Keeping constant contact with his Master, Myles packed his things in preparation for his Exodus. The two were planning to head to Elbion for some business matters, but who knows what they would encounter on their way.

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Myles woke up and was greeted by sun rays piercing through the tree canopies and shining into his boarding room. The Elves of Fal'Addas had let Myles sleep in a spare bedroom that was used by apprentices before him. It was very basic but it was comfortable enough. Sitting up he took a brief yawn and rubbed his eyes thoroughly.

Today was the day

Widogast's training was done and his mentor would be coming to greet him and they would set out on the road yet again. Jumping out of bed, Myles slipped his boots on and started packing his things. His satchel was stuffed with things he brought on the journey to Fal'Addas and even things he acquired during his stay with the Elves. His grimoire and notes he had taken, were carefully stuffed inside the leather pack.

Istare--the Elder, knocked on the young man's door "Myles? I do believe.....it is time.....Mhi'thren fel shah (your departure from here)"

Looking at the room one last time, he clasped the buckles of his pack together and grabbed his stave that he crafted on the way here.

"Istare, shen-feh ye vreen (Istare, thank you--I shall go)"

Opening the door, he was greeted by the Elder whom gave him a curt nod as he motioned with his hand, showing him the way to the outside. It was a sunny and beautiful day and various bystanders looked on as this human was leaving their settlement for the foreseeable future. Pacing down the elegant steps, he was stopped by Istare's words.

"Myles. Stay true to your path and remember what we taught you"

Nodding in agreement, he turned around and gave a respectful bow to his hosts.
"Thank you for your audience, great ones. I shall remember my studies and what you have taught me"

With his staff in hand, Myles traversed through Fal'Addas on his way to the main gate.
 
"Watch yur' back, Sparhawk. Folks may not know you so much round this Desert, but i've seen how some people look at ya', they're scared. I assure ya', those Wizard fellers' down in the Wood won't only know yur' 'reputation', but yur' face as-well. I wont Judge, but i'll pass on a piece o' advice my pah gave me; there're some stains ya' can't wash out, no ma'er who ya' turn to. Yur branded Hawk, and if i were you, i'd get a new face quick, or sail away from Arethil all o'gether. I'm sorry Maho, ya know ow' i ate' to lose a regular."

"Give me another Ale and i'll take my leave. Thanks for the drinks Wodgin."

"No Problem."


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It was a long, long ride to the Falwood. He found it funny when he thought how far he'd travelled; from Elbion to Molthal, to the long-sea in Amol-Kalit, all the way back to Fal'Addas. He's just happy he had Nemesis by his side, else he'd be an aged man by the time he'd come back home. Weirdly enough, although he'd barely spent more than 6 months travelling, he looked like he'd aged several years, rings surrounded his eyes, dark with fatigue.

Although, the forest was a nice change of pace. It certainly suited him better than the bright, over-whelming light of the desert, and the dead, bleakness of Molthal, where almost nothing lived. The lush green of the forest, where everything thrived was a beauty to be sure.

What spoiled the experience however, were the looks. As he entered the centre-boundaries of the Falwood, where the great city resided, people seemed to move away from him, their gaze not leaving until he was out of sight. Even with his horse by his side, and his hood over his head, he could not hide his Aura, which told them everything they needed to know about him. He'd heard some interesting names whilst drinking and working in Taverns along the way, and he'd heard himself referred to as everything from 'The Dragon of the West' to 'The Sorcerer at Belgrath' to 'Killer'... 'Monster'...

He preferred not to dwell on those names.

Once he'd reached the main gate, he was stopped by the two Battle-Mages who guarded the entrance.

"Excuse me, i wish to see my Apprentice, Myles Widogast."

"You are no longer Welcome here, Sparhawk." He stepped back, Nemesis still by his side.

Guess i'm waiting then.
 
Walking through Fal’Addas he felt adrenaline coursing through his veins. He rounded a turn and saw it….the main gate.

The battle-mages on his side of the gate looked at him warily, as if they didn’t trust him. Weird, after being here for several months why are they showing him signs of distrust and hostility. The answer would soon come to fruition.

“Leaving with the Dragon of the West is not a wise idea for you Widogast”

Cocking his head to the side, he poised

“What do you mean? Dragon…?”

Before he could finish the gate opened, allowing Myles to see the figure waiting on the other side. It was Sparhawk but he looked…..aged.

“....Sparhawk? Is….no that’s not you!”

The battle-mages looked at him cautiously before ushering him out of the gate
“Associating with a killer of that calibre will ban you from staying here in Fal’Addas, Widogast.”

Spinning around to face the gate, he was greeted by the ornate doors shutting in his face. There he was, with this man who looked like Sparhawk but was years and years older.

“Sparhawk? If that’s you….what happened? You look worn out and fatigued by age”
Myles approached his mentor and grabbed his hand for a firm handshake

“Begone outsiders! You are no longer welcome here in Fal’Addas!”
Shouted one battle-mage.

Confused and riddled with anxiety, Myles looked to his mentor hoping for some answer to all of this.
 
If the words of the Elves weren't enough to hurt Sparhawk, Myles' disbelief that he was indeed Sparhawk injured him deeply. Had he changed that much? Was he even himself? Questions for later. Right now, he was just happy to see the first friendly face, albeit confused, in many long months.

The guard quickly seemed to group him and Myles together; the last thing he wanted. He should've forseen Myles being seen as a monster, as an outcast. He couldn't just throw away the months of toil he'd spent, the sweat he'd poured learning the arcane arts. No. He wouldn't let Myles become an outcast.

"I'm here to escort Myles safely back to Elbion. Only the high council has the authority to exile him from here, and i doubt he'd do that." He stated, logically. He wouldn't try to argue with an Elf, so he just had to state the facts as they stood.

"Don't patronise us, Hawk." The other Mage said, equally furious.

"Come, Myles." He shook his hand, turning his back on the two Battle-Mages.

They gave Sparhawk a long, cold stare.

"Scum like you shouldn't be practicing magic; you should be in a cell." They muttered as the pair walked away.

He and Myles walked on away from the gate, Nemesis riding next to them.

"I assume you have... questions."
 
Hearing the exchange between his mentor and the other battle-mages made him feel on edge. He had done nothing wrong but associating with his mentor already excluded him from the Falwood in a matter of minutes? He did not know how the Elders would feel but that was not his main focus right now.

“I have…..so many questions. But first, let me ask why you look…..different? You look unwell and it worries me”

Feeling a kinship with his mentor he only asked about his well being because it did in fact concern him. Maho looked years and years older but only a few months had passed in reality. As the pair walked away, Myles would pat his mentor on the back.

“It’s very good to see you again. I won’t bombard you with questions as I am sure you are tired from your journey.”

Soon the thriving atmosphere of Fal’Addas faded and the pair were in the woods again….as they should be.
 
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The question depressed him. Perhaps he had changed as much as he'd thought. Everything had taken such a toll on his body. Even after receiving the tutelage of the Martial Arts master, his body simply couldn't keep up with his magic output. Every day he seemed to amass more scars on his body.

Marked by his mistakes.

"I've travelled almost as much in this last year as i had in my entire life. I've seen things most people wouldn't believe. I've seen dragons fly over the blight-lands, lighting up the sky. I saw thousands of Orc and Dwarf kind war in the fire-glow of the Belgrath Tunnels. All of those things i've seen, and all of those things i've done..." He looked down towards his feet as they continued to walk together.

"I've sacrificed so much in the pursuit of power. At first i thought it was to fight for something i believed in. But i soon came to a much more terrifying conclusion." He looked at Myles Sincerely.

"In the fires i lit, i found comfort in it's cleansing glow. I'd always failed to protect what i'd loved in the past, Myles. The one woman I-" He paused for a moment. Perhaps another time.

"I was no longer powerless. If anything, if only for a moment, i was the most powerful Pyromancer in the entirety of Arethil. But nothing comes free Myles. Nothing."

At that, he pulled up some of his robe, revealing his sides and torso. A crimson, twisting scar spread across it's entirety. It morphed his figure.

"My actions have spread through the world, Myles. Instead of a nobody who does good, i've come to live in Infamy. It's no way to live."
 
Seeing his mentor in the shape he was in, made him more determined to learn from him and to help him on his quests. As the pair walked further into the woods, he felt that his mentor’s change might be good for them both. It would allow Myles to be more involved in not only wisdom from his mentor, but the ability to actually aid him. Eye for an eye. They could help each other.

“If you are willing. These sound like amazing stories we can have over a fire with some tea and mutton! Wow….all these things you have seen, I don’t even know if I will see things like that in my lifetime. What a journey!”

Then he went on to discuss his lust for power. Many mages pursue knowledge for a good reason and sometimes those might “sway” from their path and end up doing things imaginable just for a hint of knowledge or for promise of power.

“I….I am sorry Sparhawk. You don’t have to discuss it. You have had quite a long journey and I wish not to tire you. You still have life ahead of you and there is always time to find who you are. That’s what the Elves here told me. Just because you make a mistake does not make you a monster, what makes you a monster is that you are comfortable with the outcome and keep doing it. Some analogy was used to that effect. I can’t quite recall.”

Seeing the crimson scar on Maho’s torso was enough for him to raise his brow. Such a scar could only come from slavery he thought, but no. This story told him otherwise.

“You can still do good. I know you can. The man I met in Alliria is still there. I don’t think you have changed. Sure, maybe physically but that happens.”

He gave a brief pat on his mentor’s shoulder to hopefully lift his spirits.