Strix awakening

White. Cold. That’s the first thing that he notices, as he seems to wake up from a dream.

The sun is shining outside, but it’s not warm. Where is he? Who is he? What is going on?

There is a tent. It smells. It’s cold. There is a Kobold sleeping nearby. Not an enemy, he thinks. Not yet anyway.

Where? Who? What happened?

There are flashes of memory. A couple of thieving humans. Some white snarling monsters, on fire. A climb up a mountain. Blue boots. A goblin on a platform, giving an impassioned speech. A siege tower, pulled by white bears, on fire. Goblins dead in the snow. Dwarves, those hateful dwarves. He helped them? Against his own kind?

How does it all fit together?

The Kobold speaks. Flynx. That’s his name. He is a friend? Maybe. Not sure. He is asking a lot of questions. Why? What’s his interest?

And why are they next to this mountain?

There is also a crazy fairy with an axe. Aarki, that’s the name. One foot tall, but bound with tiny muscles. Arrogant, foolish, full of himself. Obsessed, one might say. Even in the fog of his brain, Strix can tell that he is a fool.

There is also a big man. Garet. He claims to be a survivalist, yet he nearly died to… what was it? A yeti? And his charges died too. Almost all of them. All would have died, including Garet, were it not for…

The power. He has power. He can feel it. In his blood. It’s everywhere. He can feel the magic. How? How did it happen? He… wanted it? He wanted something. What? He doesn’t remember.

They call him Strix. Sometimes they call him Stray. Is that who he is?

They travel to the town. It is a long, painful, cold journey. His body aches all the time. They stay with Garet and his wife, and Fishfingers. It is jovial. Sort of nice. Wine is offered. He declines. He tries to participate in the conversation, but he’s still confused. And dismissive. Who are these people? Why is he here? Fishfingers and his friends were idiots. They wanted to climb up the mountain for the fun of it. Most paid with their lives.

Some people can't wait for the Earth to swallow them, so they go looking for its mouth.

Is he safe among these fools?

For now, probably.

Bedtime. Everyone sleeps.

He wakes. He doesn’t remember his name, but he knows it’s not Strix. As soon as he wakes, he knows… it was him on the platform talking to Goblins. He was a leader. Was he a king? No, not a king. But a leader. He wanted to do something with Goblins. Lots of them. And they followed him.

Now look where he is, in a freezing hovel at the end of the world, surrounded by idiots. Well, maybe the Kobold, Flynx, can be of some use. He seems to have at least some intelligence. Garet, his wife, the fairy… not so much. But they have resources, they can be useful, once he figures out a use for them.

His body, though. It is broken. It hurts. It was broken when… when *it* happened. When he got the power. He went to seek the power. He doesn’t remember when. Maybe a long time ago. Maybe not that long ago. It’s hard to say.

He thinks the human thieves kept him with them for a few weeks. And then the crossing into this desolate ice desert. But maybe something can be done here. First he needs to fix his body though. If that's at all possible. This could happen in Bryn Shandar. There is a blacksmith there. Maybe they can help.

The spellbook he got could be traded for money to fix his body. He needs to get to Bryn Shandar.

First, Aarki insists that they go to the tavern to speak to people about some murders. Fine. They go. They speak to an ignorant bounty hunter. He asks them to murder someone. Gives no justification, no evidence. And they’re supposed to believe him? He might be the killer, for all they know. He offers 125 gold for a murder, after some haggling.

What are the laws like around here? What do they do to you when you kill someone.

He finds out when they approach Bryn Shandar. The woman, Nirni, who took care of him, if that can be called care, is being banished from town, naked. He tries to rescue her - not to save her, but because he wants to deal with her his own way. She took advantage of him. She abused him. She carried him, and for this he is willing to show mercy at some point, but he wants to exact vengeance himself, not leave it to these barbarian townspeople.

And barbarians is all they are. He tries to connect to her mind. She is gone. Her mind is caught in a loop. He senses she has been drugged and probably abused. For stealing food, “or maybe money”. This is what they do to each other in these parts. They are no better than animals. And foolish too. She was a healthy female of breeding age. A race that treats its breeders this way will never go far. Even the goblins are smarter than this.

He thought that people in difficult circumstances tended to stick together, to help each other. But it seems that not only they show no forgiveness or aid to strangers, but they apply the harshest punishment for small crimes. So much for committing murder in plain sight. Who knows what they might do to this band of diminutive adventurers if they catch them in a violent act.

She walks off into the ice. She is dead already inside. There is nothing left of her, nothing for him to torture, to punish. He lets her go. But he remembers hearing her and the man talking of some precious item they had stolen. That item might be valuable, if it could be located. Perhaps it won’t be, though.

Some barter. Some of it with dwarves. He wants to spit in the dwarf's face, but instead he smiles, barters, buys, and even gets help, in the form of some relief from some of the worst problems with his body. New weapons for the band, too. He has taken control over the finances of the group. The Kobold is in his debt for 32 gold pieces already. This is a good start. His little army is a little stronger than it was before. Good. There is much to do. He doesn’t know what yet, but there is something that he wants to achieve.

He will remember. It will come. He has faith in it. His mind is still only slowly coming back together. He can almost feel it knitting itself back into one piece.

Though what will be the price of this sudden healing? There is always a price. As he rests on a bed for the first time in weeks, instead of on the floor like a dog, he half expects a dream that will reveal to him who is helping him and what they will ask for as payment.

It doesn’t matter. He will pay, whatever the cost is. If he doesn’t have himself, he has nothing.

He sleeps like the dead. No dreams.

He wakes up. His name is Draknar The Bright.