Thoughts of a Dead Eladrin

Death. So complete. The finality of the word was one to strike fear into the hearts of mortals since the dawn of time. Dalanor was no different, except the death he sought to escape was not a true death...it was the alienation from his own people, including his family. With the new contract that the troupe had taken, Dalanor was reminded of the pain he felt and buried, the longing to see his home again, and the nagging lonliness that came from never being able to return. It was something he had tried to forget, but the mark on his flesh was always there to remind him of this fact, that and the fact that he had made a grievous mistake. This was all he knew, and nothing more, for his brethren had taken from him the very thing that drove him.....knowledge.

Like a ghost of his former self, he travelled with this groupe of people who had, at least, accepted him on some level......but was that truly enough? Could he in good conscience use these people to help him find out what happened to him? He wanted desperately to know, and it seemed to him that he may have to resort to alternative methods to gain the answers he seeks. The followers of Tiamat want information from him that he cannot give them, and yet, in going to them, he may gain information of his own. He was debating whether or not to allow them to capture him......if only to see what he could learn, but then, it would be up to him to escape, and he had his doubts. The followers of Tiamat were quite powerful, and he was only one wizard.....which left him in a bind. It was something he had to think on, but, he would get his answers one way or another......

"I will not be made a fool of......"