Alysande's Story

...crimson coloured smoke whirls from the floor. A foul smell fills the air - pestilence, sulfur and dried blood.

In the midst of the stinking cloud of smoke materializes a disgusting figure - barely of human shape. Its skin is bright-blue, scaled and covered with several ulcers. In opposition to its swollen body and short legs, its arms are amazingly thin and long. The 'hands' have each six fingers and dangerous looking, sharp claws.

The ugly demon gazes at you with his distrusting, green-glowing eyes."Ah, here is somebody who looks like they are interested in the blathering of that wench..." he snarls. He throws back his fleshy head to his spongy neck and makes several high squeaking sounds - he laughs... "So then, take this and get unhappy with it..." The demon throws a small scroll to the floor. He grins scornful, calls with a short motion with his spider-like fingers upon the smoke and disappears in a huge whirl of red and black... All he leaves behind is the foul smell and the small scroll The scroll reads...

Alysande sits down and folds her hands in her lap. She looks seriously into her listeners' eyes. Then she starts to speak, her voice is quiet but firm. "My name is Alysande, and this is my story...

I'm the daughter of the Seer of Loorn. My mother served as councilor and clairvoyant at the court of King Azalyn. His realm was situated in one of the remains of the First Woods, where the forces that created life and land in the Forgotten Times still have their power.

My father, Seehl the Destructor, appeared in my mother's sleep. He overcame her and broke her resistance, my procreation happened in the violent way, where love is of no importance. Why the lord of pain, torment and arbitrariness chose my mother as vessel for his child, is part of his unknown plans.

Through the shock and horror afflicted by my father, my mother lost her eyesight - she never saw my face. Every touch of mine reminded my mother of that pain and humiliation, but she endeavored to be a good mother. She taught me to talk and to laugh, though I cannot remember ever hearing her laugh.

I admired my mother for her defiant will of life. If I had been raped by my father, I would have shot myself with a poisoned crossbow on the edge of an ogre pit. At the same time my mother forced me to improve my magic skills. I had to spend weeks reading old tomes, I had to learn unspeakable spells and had to train until I started to vomit because of the effort. Therefore I hated my mother...

Sometimes in her sleep my mother screamed in agony  and fear. If I woke her, she pushed me out of the bed, away from her. Just as if my mere presence caused her pain. I often cried in those days. I was 14 years old when my father called me. It was night, and I slept when suddenly a claw, cold like ice reached out and took me away. When I opened my eyes I stood on an enormous glacier. A strong snowstorm tore on my nightdress and my hair. The wind howled in my ears and the whirling snowflakes felt like needles on my skin.

All I could see was a blinding light and, blinking, I tried to see in this frozen desert. I was surrounded by dark figures staggering around; they once had been followers of my father's, who had been seduced by his promises of power glory or whatever else they may have had been looking for.

They followed his path, and it was here that they were looking for their rewards, blinded by my father's cold, bright light. Some of the deceived crept around in the snow on all fours.

I tried to wrap myself tighter into my thin nightdress, to protect myself from the merciless cold. But it took only moments until my hands and feet froze ice-cold and insensible.

Then I saw my father. His enormous body was lying stretched out on the glacier. As large as a town, lazy, pale and swollen, like a giant maggot, his limbs could hardly be seen repugnant, repulsive, disgusting and physically dangerous. My father spoke to me. I couldn't hear his voice, but felt it with my whole body. What he demanded made me panic - and caused a feeling of disgust.

The Destroyer noticed my resistance. He opened his one eye. His look was a massive ray of light, brighter than the sun, colder than the dark side of the moon. His look hit me like a ram hits the breaking gate of a falling fortress. He pierced my body, scattered my thoughts and tore my soul to pieces. I sank on my knees. Insanity got hold of me. I tried to hold on to the tiny part of my self that was left and pushed all my bad feelings to the surface. Cruelty, hate and anger were the shields with which I tried to hide from the Destructor.

My resistance made my father angry. For a very short moment he drew away his look. I turned and ran for shelter. I crawled and, where it was possible, I ran through the frozen cliffs, blind and almost paralyzed by the pain. The blade-sharp ice cut my hands and feet. My blood was dripping to the ground, but the red path was covered immediately by the whirling snow.

I hid behind a cliff of ice. My beating heart pumped cold blood through my body, tears ran down my cheeks and turned to ice before they reached the ground. I started a gate-spell my mother had forced me to learn, with stiff fingers and bleeding lips. My father was looking for me. His look wandered over the glacier like a plough through a field. When his look accidentally hit the bodies of his followers, I could hear their screams of agony through the howling wind.

I desperately tried to concentrate on my spell, while I watched my father's look getting closer. Only a few steps away - the magic gate opened and I let myself fall through.

When I came to myself in a light forest in the morning, mist was rising from the hills behind the trees. My badly injured hands and feet were covered in bruises, and I had frost-bites all over my body. I tried to crawl further on a few yards but then lost consciousness.

A few halflings were nearby. They were looking for berries in the forest. They found me and took me to their village.

* * *

My father's rage was unimaginable; my resistance, my escape, how did I dare to oppose him. He sent one of his servants, a Tharrg, to the trolls in the mountains north of the Loorn-Woods. The Tharrg looked similar to a 20 feet high reptile with enormous wings. His body did not reflect any light, so the trolls could hardly see the sharp-shaped outline of the envoy. His body was not much more than a shadow, but his presence was so cold that he froze the ground below his feet and made the earth burst It was easy for the Tharrg to persuade the troll's king to attack the land of the elves in the south. The seduced king called his men and the mountains quaked with the beating of the war-drums.

The army of trolls washed away my country like a flood. The surprised elves fought bravely and killed many of the invaders, but they couldn't do anything against the almighty Tharrg. After the envoy of my father had slaughtered the royal guards, he tore King Azalyn's body to pieces in the face of his family. The lost elves were scared stiff with horror, tried to escape; either on their own or in small groups. Many were tracked down and slain by small bands of trolls.

My mother stayed at the side of her king...

The land, that once had been my home, turned to blood and fire.

* * *

The halflings took care of me and healed my wounds. As soon as I could walk I fled to the coast and down south until I came to the town named Valas.

There I succeeded in enrolling at the Academy of Magic. For four years I studied the secrets of the Arcane art, in constant fear of my father discovering me. But the magicians of Valas didn't believe in gods. They thought them to be mighty daemons or just denied their existence. The magicians of Valas couldn't protect me. When the Tharrg arrived in the town he cut the rows of defending knights and magicians like the scythe of a peasant cuts the corn.

I ran to the transportation-chamber in the academy, a kind of magi-mechanical teleportation device. The magicians always invented and built new magical artifacts.At random I chose some coordinates and activated the device.

Between the walls of Valas the Tharrg was toying with the defenders of the city like a cat does with the mice...

* * *

At first I thought the transportation device hadn't worked. The buildings I saw were so similar to those in the city I left, I feared I was still there. But the streets were quiet and peaceful, and the night-sky showed me star-constellations I had never seen before.

For two days I wandered the streets of Moorgate. Then I met Elianne and Triel. They soon noticed the dark side of my being.
They took me to Morlend and I followed him hoping that his power and above all his unscrupulous will would be strong enough to protect me from my father.

I'm really worried about Morlend's powers being so weak now. My father will come... - and I doubt that any of the arguing gods of Cosrin will have enough armed forces at their disposal to resist the almighty rage of Seehl, the Destructor...

My name is Alysande. This is an ancient elven word and means 'harmful angel'."

Alysande leans her head to one side and smiles.

"My mother was a seer..."

Then she stands up and walks away without looking back.