RPG Story in Progress

[Mr Nigma]

I got the idea to write a story about what one of my RPG characters is doing while away from the main group (ie while I'm in the Navy). I've been working on the how-the-heck-do-I-start phase (what style, etc) for a while now and recently have finally started.
I've gone with a first-person journal-style method of writing, and I would like to have your feedback on how it's looking right now. Please be critical: those kinds of comments help me out the most. Especially focus on the stupid little errors and ensure it is readable. Thanx.
(FYI- it is for the AD&D 3rd Ed Forgotten Realms setting. Updates continuous.)

**********

Let this be the official record of Sir Devon Jaerbyn, written by his own hand, accounting his Quest to return home.

It is my sincere wish that whoever finds these pages will deliver them to the Royal Palace in Cormyr, care of whomever sits upon the Throne or some other official representative, whichever is more convenient. I beseech the Palace of Cormyr to reward the deliverer of this record with at least some small token of my gratitude, as well as my family’s and friends’.

I hope these pages will help you to discern the fate of your son, brother, companion, ally, and loyal servant,

Devon

***

I suppose some background information would be useful in knowing how I found myself to be so lost. Moreover, since, if you are reading this, I am dead, then I will endeavor to tell all.

First and foremost, you should know just who and what I am. I am the Baronet Devon Jaerbyn of House Jaerbyn, fifth and last son of the Trade Baron Errick Jaerbyn, of the country of Cormyr and the Dalelands in the land of Faerun on the planet of Toril. In my times, I have been a wandering jack-of-all-trades. Mostly I have been various facets of a ne’er-do-well, but I have never done too much harm by any definition. I am also a proud member of the semi-secret Bladed Crown of Cormyr. In this capacity, I am a Sworn Protector of the Crown and country of Cormyr. A virtuous Champion of Torm and a stalwart High Priest of Berronar Truesilver make up the rest of our near-legendary guild. Alongside these two brothers-in-arms I have fought and defeated foes of at times much greater number and vastly superior power. I have been slain in battle no less than twice, but Lady Tymora smiled upon me each time, and I returned to the Realm of the Living. Some consider me a hero, others a villain. Maybe I am one or even both. I am but a man.

More importantly, I am lost.

No, I am not merely lost. Lost doesn’t begin to describe the situation I find myself. Lost implies one does not know where one is. I not only do not know where I am, but when I am and even how and why I am. At this point, even what is in doubt. I only know who I am, and I pray that this is enough for now.

Let me describe briefly how I found myself where I am now. After my most recent sabbatical, I rejoined my companions on their latest quest. Evidently, a great Wyrm wreaked havoc upon our great land before finally being defeated. The great wizards located this terrible Wyrm’s horde, which the kingdom needed to finance its war coffers, within a small demiplane. We searched for and found the entrance to this reality, only to discover that the horde was within a pocket dimension inside the original demiplane. It was a quest unto itself just to get to the inner reality, but we finally managed to retrieve the horde. As we were escaping the inner pocket, it began to collapse around us. I did not make it out. Thus, I find myself here. Wherever, whatever, and whenever here is.

Now, knowing in short how I arrived here, I will endeavor to describe to you what the place I find myself looks and feels like.
Look around where you are right now. Notice everything - the shape of the trees, the clouds drifting in the sky, the small cracks in a wall. Feel the wind in your hair, the heat of the fireplace perhaps. The familiar sights and expected sounds. Take in all that is your reality.

Now take away the sun, moon, and the fire. Take away all the light and add a subtle, alien twist to the landscape. Change ever so slightly the breath of the wind, the limbs of the tree - the very feel of the world. Add a slight feeling of vast unwelcome that barely touches the back of your neck. Add the realization that while everything seems somehow familiar, all is completely alien. Know that you are completely and utterly alone.

This is where I am.

I can still see, vaguely, although there is no sun, moon, or stars. However, everything is gray. Some places are lighter and some are darker, but all is like the time of four-bells on a night of the waxing or waning moon after your eyes adjust. I am not certain how I can still see at all, but all I see are shadowy shapes and figures. Fortunately, I know this way of seeing the world well. I have spent many an hour in the shadows stalking, watching, and fighting. But this is a different kind of darkness. This is a shadow that has never experienced the brightness of midday, nor the darkness of a new moon. In addition, the shadows themselves are, in a word, wrong. They are not always at the same angle, or have the proper proportion of dimensions. At times, they seem to shift as if they were alive. Maybe they are.

More so, it is not just the look of the world that disturbs me. It is the feeling I have. I can feel that this is nowhere near my home. The very land seems menacing and almost too alien for me to comprehend. While I cannot dispel the sense of familiarity I have with my surroundings, nothing is where I would expect it to be. I walk past a grove of trees that I swear I have passed dozens of times before, and I suddenly find a mountain looming behind them. It is a lone mountain that seemed to have just appeared, for I should have noticed it long before then. The fact that no other mountain, or even a large hill, is in view does not seem to concern it. It should not be there, but it is.

I feel that a thousand eyes are watching me, and they all consider me an outsider, an intruder. Nothing I do, nothing I say to myself can ease this feeling. The land itself does not want me here. What chance will I have with its denizens?

Time appears to move differently here. Maybe it is the lack of sun and moon to measure the hours that gives me this feeling, but I just know that my meaning of Time no longer applies. I have no way of knowing if one day for me is a week, or even but an hour, to you. Therefore, I will not even attempt to mark the passage of time. I will begin simply with my arrival into this place-this start of my Quest.

***




[This message has been edited by Mr Nigma (edited 04-20-2003 10:03 PM).]

[Beartalon]

Sounds like you're in the Abyss. I'm trying to recall the Forgotten Realms books in which characters go to the Abyss and return.

Sounds good so far.

[Mr Nigma]

Actually, he's in the Demiplane (Quasi?) of Shadows.
I sure hope Devon never ends up in the Abyss!

I hope I can keep this idea going for a good while. Usually my stories just sort of peter out after a few pages as the inspiration fades.

I'll keep updating the original post with additions/revisions as I get them.

------------------
Cognito, ergo sum.

It is the Soldier, and not the reporter, who give us Freedom of the Press;
It is the Soldier, and not the poet, who gives us Freedom of Speech;
It is the Soldier, and not the campus organizer, who gives us the Freedom to Demonstrate;
It is the Soldier, who salutes the Flag, who serves the Flag, and whose coffin is draped by the Flag, who allows the protestor to burn the Flag.
Freedom is not free.

What is a Vet, by Father Dennis O'Brien, Chaplain, Marine Veteran of WWII Pacific Campaign

[Mr Nigma]

I'm editing how much I put into each post, so that any single post will not be too long.

Happy reading.

[Mr Nigma]

***

The last thing I remember happening was watching the very fabric of reality disintegrate around me. Imagine my surprise when I opened my eyes and saw, well, anything. Granted, what I saw wasn’t much of anything, but this still was not what I was expecting. I woke up on top of a great mountain in the midst of a vast range. I wandered around for what seemed like hours but I could find no clue as to how I arrived here, much less how to get back to home or even my companions. Nor could I notice any trace of other living creature. There was no chirping of birds, no howling of wolves, nothing. Silence. Yet, the feeling of someone or something watching me was ever present. I tried my best to ignore it as I turned my attention to getting out of the mountains. The focus of my survival skills is not on such terrain, although I could make do if I had to. I would simply like to get out of these mountains as soon as possible.

In all of the time I have been here thus far, a tenday by my reckoning, all that has happened has been my success in vacating the inhospitable terrain, my entrance into a hilly grasslands region, and the near exhaustion of my rations. Yet, that cold feeling of dread gnawed at my stomach with every passing moment. I feared it would drive me to the point of insanity. I still do.

I tried to turn my thoughts from such things as I concentrated on a more important issue-I needed food and water. I had only the rations for one, maybe two more days. Even stretching them for as long as I dared would only afford a total of three days. At this rate, I would survive for less than a tenday.

Two more days of silent agony passed. Two days of wandering, praying to Lady Tymora, and still no sign of life other than myself. Delirium grew at the edge of my sanity. The end of Sir Devon loomed near. But then I found a treasure more precious than any horde. In the side of a large hill a spring bubbled up from the rocky depths and swirled around in a small pool before cascading down a grassy slope. I found the spring-water as clear and pure as any I have ever quaffed before. Perhaps better. My body, as well as my spirit, was quickly refreshed with this elixir and I decided to end my travels for the day early and make camp in a nearby mass of upturned stones. I laid my bedroll in a cozy little nook that afforded much protection from both the elements and casual sight. I chose against building a fire, for I not only had no tinder but anything to cook as well. Also, the cool air was almost comfortable and I wanted to keep the lowest of profiles. Thus, without so much as a bite to eat but being happily content with just the water, I laid down to rest and start this very journal.

Thus, my story reaches the present, for me at least. I will now rest my quill until the next time I open this book. I go to sleep knowing that not only will I survive another day, but so shall my memory.

***

[This message has been edited by Mr Nigma (edited 04-20-2003 09:52 PM).]

[Mr Nigma]

***

When I awoke this morning, a wondrous and mysterious event occurred. I awoke to find a great beast standing no more than ten paces from me. At first, it appeared to be a bear, with glistening tar-black fur, lapping at the spring. However, as I watched, I realized that a better description would be the shadow of a huge wolf. The creature was like nothing I have ever laid my eyes on before, but felt so familiar. I waited in hiding as the wolf-kin drank lazily, and then suddenly it turned it’s head and looked at me for a moment. I froze. We locked eyes as it seemed to appraise me. Then it seemed to nod in approval, turn, and walk away as if it knew I was no threat. I watched the creature shuffle down the little stream-part in shocked intrigue and part just to observe it. It was easily ten feet long and a horse’s height while on all fours, and all of it as black as nothingness. For some reason I could not explain, I found this wolf-shadow to be one of the most wondrous and fascinating creatures I have ever seen.

Also, the name of this particular creature seemed to be at the edge of my thoughts, as if I once knew what it was but had just then forgotten. How could I know of such things?

I spent what seemed like an hour reflecting on the strange event and then I broke camp and continued on my journey. I decided to follow the stream, as it would not only lead me to food, but ultimately to civilization. Or so I hope.

I traveled along the bank of the stream, and after a time finding plentiful amounts of plants bearing edible berry-like fruits as well as various small game which I eventually discovered to be barely palatable. With such bountiful food, I no longer feared starvation. Nevertheless, still no sign of civilization.

The rest of the day passed without incident.

***



[This message has been edited by Mr Nigma (edited 04-20-2003 09:57 PM).]