Story of a Wanderer

[Illinther Sarantiel]

Darkness surrounded him, darkness that even his feline eyes had trouble seeing through. There was smoke all around, whispers half-heard as footsteps pattered up and down, all around him the sounds of movement, like a sinister machine all in concert. The distant sounds of rock being torn apart and metal on metal filled his sensitive ears, and somewhere he though he still heard screaming underneath it all.

Illinther was still in his bindings, he had long lost his will to fight against his captors. His eyes had become dull and lifeless, and his ears were curled down against the sides of his head. His throat had become dry and painful from hissing and screaming, while his wrists were torn bloody and raw from struggling against the bonds holding him against the wall. Even those wounds had stopped bleeding, the dried blood caked black against the metal shackles.

After the young child had almost beaten one of his captors senseless, they had taken to chaining him as tight and as high as they could, poking him with their spears as they passed and beating him when they brought him down, or sometimes for no reason at all. The cut in his side still ached; it had become a long twisted scar, freezing cold in his belly but burning like a hellfire all over.

He had long lost track of all time, there was no day or night here, and the creatures in this place never rested. He could not remember when he had been taken, or even who he was. All he could remember was pain and fire, and, deep down, ice. Steps came closer, whispers grew louder, but Illinther did not move. He did not care anymore.

A torch was placed in a sconce in the wall, and up to Illinther walked a small creature, no larger than the he himself was, even as a child. A grimling…a foul little creature, brown as fresh mud with twisted black hair, stared at him. Several fresh scars marred its cheeks; others were across its arms and legs. Illinther had fought back like a hellcat against this creature that had caused him so much pain.

The grimling motioned to have him taken down, and three guards walked up to unchain him and carry him along. Going through just a few of their tunnels, there were other slaves digging in the walls and being taken down tunnels, all with the dead stare Illinther shared. Placing him on a table already long covered with Illinther’s blood, the grimling motioned for the guards to leave. Going across the room, he turned his back on the cowed cat.

Illinther’s ears twitched a little. His lips twitched as he realized he was alone with the thing he hated most, and it had even left the knife on the table. His fingers clasped the handle of the short dagger, pulling it closer to him. He knew he would never leave the tunnels, but perhaps if he killed the creature they would kill him.

“You really are a remarkable creature; none of the others has survived this long. If this succeeds you may well have served to make us all stronger.” Grinning, the grimling came toward him with a vial of something foul smelling. Illinther bode his time; he had well learned to wait to attack, so that he could make it count.

When he came close enough, Illinther jumped onto him, absolutely silent. Biting and clawing, he shoved the dagger into the grimling’s abdomen. Hearing it scream only put him into more of a fury. Fire and the screams of his mother filled his mind, even as a sharp pain stabbed him in the neck. Somehow the grimling had managed to smash whatever was in that vial against him. The sound of the guards running into the room filled his ears, even as pain and the foul taste of something awful was in the back of his throat.

Cold spread through his entire body as a contingent of guards ran into the room, stopping only for a moment to see the bloody body of the one who had experimented on him, barely breathing with a long, jagged knife through him. Then they saw and heard what had been Illinther.

Illinther had begun to scream as his blood had filled with the cold pain of ice, he had dropped to all fours as he filled with magic and fury, his eyes even glowed pure white in the darkness. Taking a step back, the guards raised their spears to charge what had become a frothing fury. Then whatever had begun to fill Illinther’s veins broke free.

The sound of earth cracking and tearing surrounded them even as ice sprouted from the floor of the cave. Spikes of it flew from the walls and impaled guards as Illinther charged them, the blood fury taking over. Spears cut him but he ignored it as the wounds closed miraculously without a drop of blood. Grimlings began to run in fear as the feral cat tore them apart, ice filling the halls behind him.

Coming out into the forest, Illinther collapsed as the cold took him into darkness.

[Blarp]

OMG you cant stop there this is a grate sotry.. you should wright as book aboult beastlords i'd buy it! grate work hope to read more kepeing my busy her eina fghanistan  thanks mate 4 weeks i come home!

[Illinther Sarantiel]

I'm afraid writing a book for sale is out of the question, as all of this is SOE's intellectual property. However this is one of my first large writing projects so you may say that this is...a prototype. Thank you for the feedback, however. There's more coming, I promise.

Edit: It isn't that I don't want to write a novel on Illinther (and over 7 years of in-game experiences really do flesh out quite a bit of it), it's just that it isn't really feasible at this time.

First off, I would have to get permission from SOE to use their IP, or Intellectual Property. They would likely also have a specific publisher I would have to deal with. I most likely would have to have their final say on the content of said novel, which would mean I would likely have to vastly modify the storyline I would like to use.

Second, I would have to vastly re-edit and re-design what I have already written (admittedly, not a whole lot), to fit a novel. The current format is far more messageboard friendly, as it is written in small chunks (which will get bigger eventually, although I doubt I will thoroughly redo anything already posted, I look back on some portions, especially Sariani's exit from the sickhouse, and I'm not entirely satisfied with what is there). A lot more detail and longevity is needed for such a venture.

Lastly, in its current state, my story is simply not friendly to those not steeped in Everquest. I have done a poor job of describing races and places, and have dropped quite a few things that players would understand that someone who doesn't play simply would not. I would have to find ways to describe said things that would fit the storyline, and when I do such things I tend to get long-winded and meander off-topic.

Regarding the looping nature of Illinther's 'feverdreams', aka flashbacks, I do have reasons for releasing them in the order I do. The most recent is actually the second earliest event that I have fleshed out of Illinther's life (that you have seen at least *wink*), and said flashbacks will begin to become clearer and more linear as Illinther gets close to waking up (*gasp*, yes, he will wake up; what?, you didn't think I was going to have him like this for an entire story, did you?). They will tell you about his childhood, and maybe a little of his early adulthood. I have chosen to start this story when he is actually in the age range of 30-40, and there are quite a few things that I have left out, but I can't keep him asleep forever to tell them, which is partly to blame for the brevity of said flashbacks.

Some apparent enemies may become allies (and some allies...become enemies). I intend to have some very brutal plot twists, in particular some bad things are coming for Illinther, and he will have to make choices that he may regret until the day he dies. All three major characters I have introduced so far (Illinther, Sariani, and Alindar) have been characters in the game itself, however, Sariani and Alindar were never played nearly as much as I used them in my sidestories for Illinther.

It may not seem like it, but Illinther has had many happy and quirky moments the same (Dwarp has provided a lot of amusement for me over the years, who for your reference is a major character of my father, who makes some...interesting...gameplay quirks into some hilarious deathtraps). However, the story involved here is most likely going to fall on a much darker note, so I will likely have little of said things.

One thing must be said before I continue, and that is that I will not be following the full game storyline. If you're looking for Nedaria and friends, they aren't here and will not be here. I'm going to be taking a similiar stance that EQII has towards the storyline, being that I have somewhat ganked it pretty early in the PoP era. To be honest I have yet to decide whether to include the Drakkin or any of that particular set, because their creation is largely due to actions during DoN.

Mortals have not stepped into the Planes beyond Tanaan, or at least very little. I do not intend for the Deities to play much role in this story, and as much as I love vampires Mayong Mistmoore is not becoming a demi-god. Also, the little portals from Tanaan to the rest of Norrath don't work in this version (I may or may not involve travel between Tanaan and the rest of Norrath later on, I have yet to decide, but in this version it is highly difficult to travel to and fro, especially between the world and the Planes).

I can't give too much more away without starting to delve into the storyline, which I hope will be at least a little bit of a surprise. I will drop small hints here and there, but some bizarre things are going to happen.

Just one thing, Alindar isn't an ordinary elf. Chew on that one for a while.

Blarp: Good luck coming home. I'm glad I am providing some amusement. Share the story! I want readers, because I am an evil, pretentious, selfish, and vain! Feed my ego, it's hungry. Seriously though, I do need some exposure (and hopefully someone who doesn't know EQ will see this and be able to at least enjoy part of it, that would serve as a barometer for the story).

[Tiroon]

There's more coming, I promise.

/Snoopydance

[Illinther Sarantiel]

In this world there are many powers, many mysteries. Thousands upon thousands of years of history lay on the land, leaving scars that cut deep into the earth. Blood taints the hands of many, and tears fill the seas. Few live who can recount the past. None live that remember…or are there?

The whole of existence lay upon the pillars of the elements, fire, ice, wind, and earth. Mortal-kind was never meant to handle such power as these.

Woe be to those who come too close to the sun.

He could not last much longer like this. The throbbing pain in his shoulder would not subside, his robes had become torn and blood-stained, and his vigor was finally giving out.

“My friend…I could not stop them,” coughing, he spat blood into the ancient sand. “Could not…,” falling to his knees, Alindar began to surrender. A wracking sob became a mad cackle. “All the power granted me, and I could not stop them. I only hope…that she got the news.”

Shoving his half-shattered staff into the ground next to him, he pulled himself up. “We never knew.” Still cackling, he brushed his hair out of his face. “Never knew just how powerful they had become.” Looking out over the desert, there was no wind, no sound, only the black curtain of space.

“I never thought that this wasteland would be my grave. However, I think I’ll still take a few with me.” As he looked out on the field, thousands of voices cried out in silence as the mindless armies of undead marched towards him, crawling over the scorched remains of hundreds of others. Leading amongst them were the Shissar, a once-great race of snake creatures, mostly undead themselves.

The stench of rotting flesh was unbearable, and Alindar almost wished he was in the part of the Grey that had lost almost its entire atmosphere. Wiping a drop of blood from his lip, he began to chant, his eyes turning to flame.

“Come then! Let us dance the final dance!” Tapping his staff on the ground several times, he screamed as flame billowed from him, exploding into a fiery fury of mass destruction. The dead continued on, even aflame. Many simply turned to dust or even blew apart as the arcane fire went through them. Throwing fireball after fireball into the masses, Alindar moved slower and slower as exhaustion and loss of blood overtook his adrenaline.

Pulling a pair of beautifully crafted long knives from his belt, he began to resort to all the martial skills he had even been taught. Plunging daggers into rotting flesh and calling forth swords of fire, many fell, but many more simply kept on coming. One bit him in the arm, another grabbed his legs. One dagger caught in a bone and did not come free. He was pulled down into the morass of creaking bodies.

“You…will…not,” piles of undead covered him, but even as they did, they began to glow red and then white. A sound so loud it could not be heard screamed forth as flesh simply melted around him. Trying to stand, his eyes went dull as blood spewed from his lips. “You will not take me alive.” His arms had burned; his robes were now almost completely destroyed.

Cackling was heard as the undead continued their advance, un-swayed by the masses of corpses they walked upon. Two boots appeared under his eyes, worn by the passage of time and much travel. A sharp pain filled him as a massive skeleton took a sword to the back of his head, and Alindar was no more.

[Illinther Sarantiel]

Cold filled her lungs as she gasped for breath. Her horse had long since been left behind, unable to continue. She only hoped that the Coldain encampment she had left it with could take care of it. Frost covered her armor, her lips had cracked and torn, even though she wore the warmest of gear.

Stumbling in a snowdrift, she tumbled down a hill, her body hitting rocks all the way down. Failing in trying to get up, she crawled her way with her fingers as if they were claws, dragging herself along. Losing strength, she slowly began to sleep. The last thing she saw was a shadow falling over her, and a great claw.


Her eyes opened timidly, afraid of what she may see. It was far warmer here, and she felt as if she was sleeping next to a bear. Her eyes opened wider when she saw teeth, and she scrambled for her blades.

“Be quiet, child. Do not be afraid,” came a great deep and rumbling voice, yet it was almost musical.

“I know…that voice.” Her throat was raw and sore, speaking was painful.

“Shhhh, drink child.” A cup was held to her lips, and she was forced to slowly sip a warm liquid. “Do not speak. You must rest if you are to recover.”

“Draykkyr, it cannot wait, there is no time.” Coughing, she tried to clamber out of what she realized was a giant bear skin she had been wrapped in, but there was little energy in her limbs.

The large dragon looked down on her kindly, his powerful tail curled protectively against her, his deep azure eyes surrounded by the ancient scales of his face. His powerful wings were curled against his body as he lay there.

“Patience, child. We already know why you are here. You will be taken to the council soon enough. For now, sleep.” Breathing his magical breath upon her, she closed her eyes and slept a dreamless sleep.

[Blarp]

/gasp....... and you stoped for now eh =-P very nice i can tell you put alot mroe thoughtinto eery part you have done. from the very 1st posted. all i can say is /clap.

and your detial is becoming a lot better and thank you for the kind words my friend. howed a few poeple this strey and they liked it. altho they are geeks like i =-P. but never the less they like it. and your  styory is that yours make  your oun. that is  what makes anythign worth reading good i think.  but i gota go for now back to work. be safe and take care mate.

[Illinther Sarantiel]

In the process of relocating - this is suspended for the next few weeks (Sorry!).

I promise I won't disappear this time, but I'm not sure how long it will be before I get moved into a new apartment and have the internet set up.

However, this does give me some extra time to work on the story in my head (I hope...).

Will return shortly.

[Zayns]

Thank you Illinther, I am really enjoying your work.

[Illinther Sarantiel]

Walking down the gilded steps, he looked out upon the great city that lay before him. Gold, silver, marble, all were in abundance, mixed in with the natural trees of the forest. His city was so quiet and yet bustling with life at the same time. The sound of soft footsteps and the quiet humming of birds filled the pathways.

Even though all seemed calm, he brushed a bead of sweat from his brow. The sun was getting hotter every day, and the water was beginning to dry up. The trees that had once been so bright and lush were beginning to yellow for lack of water. There were quiet whispers and hard looks between the adults.

A flash of light blinded him as a loud humming filled his ears, and all of a sudden he was running across a field, laughing. His mother scooped him up in her arms as he squealed with joy, his siblings all around them. Another flash of light and he felt the burning of the sun as he watched his city turn to ash.

Whispers filled his ears as the cold metallic taste of his own blood touched his tongue. He tried to move but found that he could not muster his own strength for more than a groan. A hissing sound filled his mind as he felt a sharp blow to his side.

”Tunare has abandoned us, Solu…”

Flash.

“We cannot survive this drought, our cit…”

Flash.

“…yes, he’s growing up quite well. My son Al…”

Flash.

“…great mage one day, his tal…”

Flash.

The sound of singing filled his ears even as the magic of the great spell enveloped…

Flash.

…growl of the little Vah Shir as it tried to strike out at him…

Flash.

He held his sister in his arms as she bled…

Flash.

Flame and death.

“My name is…”

Flash.

“…never take me alive.”

He screamed as the fire tried to form in his hands, the hard metal of his shackles glowing even as their enchantments prevented his power from breaking free.

“My name…”

Flash.

“Death follows me like a shadow, it would be best if…”

Flash.

“Come with me, Ill…”

Flash.

Lavender eyes stared at him, pain enveloping them. Illinther hung before him, chained and staked to a cross-like set of poles. Blood pooled beneath him. Trying to look down, he realized he was chained in the same fashion.

“Ill…?”

“Hello, wizard.” The big cat tried to smile.

“Where?” He found he could not fully speak; part of his face did not seem to want to work.

“I don’t know. You’re the only person I have seen for…a long time.”

“What’s going on?”

He screamed with rage as the vision faded away, blood and fire filling his eyes.

Flash.

He weeped as more and more images filled his mind.

In a frozen city on the edge of a wasteland, Sariani screamed in her sleep as the darkness came for her soul. Her watcher fled to fetch the dragons as her body wracked with pain.

In a small house on the edge of a forest, Illinther rose in his sleep, howling like a mad cat from the depths of hell. His eyes were filled with destruction and his claws were ready for blood.

Somewhere, in the blackest of the Abyss, laughter filled the timeless halls of Oblivion.

[Blarp]

It's Kicking as bro Keep it going when/if you have the time i know how hard moving is and such i hope you get your place hooked up just right for you  Keep it real and have a good time. thank you for the storyes i love eh. John out

[Leboots]

I can't wait to read more!

[Illinther Sarantiel]

Still have a delay at this time. Working 13/12's for the next few weeks. Finally got the internet, but my computer is still where I was living. I'll have it within the month (barring work etc.).

I have, however, been working on the story (nope, not slacking). No word on the next segment, not even clues.

Well...people die, and stuff happens! Yes, stuff!

[Tigrah]

I like reading this kind of work. have tried several times to write my own stories... but my skill at taking my online character and putting him into story is... well to be blunt it sucks. awesome story, keep up the good work.

[Illinther Sarantiel]

“Good, very good Illinther. Now, guard your face better!” a wizened old warrior stood watch over the training yard, his tail flicking from side to side as the younger generation of Vah Shir trained for battle against their enemies.

A large pit full of earth was surrounded by the stone walls of the arena, the careful work of the stonemasons marred by long years of battle within, stains of blood and the cracks worn by weapons. All around were the statues of the warriors gone before, standing guard in the city of the noble cats. Overhead Norrath was seen in full.

Adolescents and even young children were brought here to be trained by the best of the best, some becoming soldiers in the army, while still others bore the special honor of becoming it's captains, it's warrior poets of the Jharin, and sometimes even the spiritual healers of the Dar Khura. Very, very few were of the Khati Sha, that rare meld of wild beast and noble beast; it seemed, however, that there were fewer every year; the tigers of the moon were slowly being driven to extinction.

The few warders there were were training in their own yard, this being one of the rare times they were trained separately from their bond-mates.

Illinther fought amongst the others, wearing only a pair of wool breeches, fighting with a small pair of wooden claw-like weapons, the horns stretching up over his hands. He tried to dodge and weave between the others, using his weapons to try and block their blows when he was forced to. He was smaller than the rest, somewhat younger and less well fed, but he fought against them fiercely.

One of the older children spat on him, and as he turned to face him another hit him in the back of the head with their practice sword. Illinther went to his knees as another child kicked him in the stomach.

“Freak!” they yelled. “You don't even have a father!” the old warrior just sat and watched as the other children began to beat on him as a mob. Illinther's warder felt the pain and roared as he tried to reach his friend, but he too was too small to fight the others. Finally, one of the elder Khati Sha arrived.

“STOP!” came the deep voice of the master beastlord. The younglings quickly fled to the corners of the yard. He slowly stepped forward to stand in front of the warrior. His fur, like Illinther's, was a pure white, marred only by the black stripes patterning his flesh. He wore carefully made leather armor that showed wear from many years of battle, feathers adorning his head. The dark light of angry spirits shone in his eyes.

“And I suppose you were just going to allow this?” anger clearly showing in his voice, a light growl underpinning every word.

“They are only children,” with a devilish grin the old warrior moved to gather his students, appearing to chide them for their actions, but glancing derisively back at the Khati Sha.

Growling, the beastlord looked back towards his charge. Illinther kneeled in the mud created by his blood mixing with the dirt around him. Grim determination not to make a sound showed in his face, his eyes glaring with anger. Illinther's warder limped to his side, pressing up against him and snarling at the children on the other side of the arena.

The elder stepped in front of him, his toe claws bearing into Illinther's view.

“Can you stand?”

Pulling himself up, Illinther looked straight up into his master's eyes. The only sign of his weakness was a slightly shaking hand on his warder's flank.

“Sadhi!” a roar came from the old warrior.

Sadhi turned to face him, his glare sharp enough to pierce steel.

“Your troublemaker of a student is banned from this place, I can't have him causing this kind of trouble amongst my apprentices.” Sadhi just stared into his eyes, glaring the warrior down until he simply turned away.

“Come then, Illinther. You do not need to take this kind of foolishness any longer.” Illinther limped after Sadhi slowly, leaving the yard of snickering younglings behind him.