I stood on the deck of the Andromeda, watching as we sailed closer to the graceful elven docks. Even from this range I saw it looked different. There were a lot more humans around than I was used to, for one thing.
I only saw a few elves and I saw the humans had been allowed to make a small merchant settlement, here on the shores. I wondered when that had occurred. But this is what happens when you are gone for over thirty years. Things change.
Thirty-one years ago I had been Sir Valen Riddick, demon-hunter and knight, and at the top of my game and class. Thirty-one years ago I had been only thirty-five, married but two years, half my life still stretching out in front of me.
Thirty-one years ago was also my third trip into Hell.
Erador, my land, was one of the lands with an established portal to Hell, and what was a demon-hunter to do but go where the demons were? Especially since I had, with the help of my friends, pretty much beaten back their incursion onto land.
At first I went just to make sure they were truly beaten back. But as I got more and more embroiled into their plots, I couldn't just stop. It culminated with, on the third trip, me breaking the very Rod of the Undead that belonged to Orcus, Prince of the Undead.
Yes. I don't play small. I knew it was a mistake when I did it. I knew I would pay for it. But what could I do? It was right there in front of me. We had defeated the guards, I had the means to destroy it (a glass sword), and I am and always will be a knight. It was my duty and it spoke to me. It *screamed* to me.
So I brought the sword down on it, shattering both the sword and the rod. I heard Orcus' enraged screams all across the plane of Avernus. We fled.
On the way back, in the temple that led to the Planes of Blood near the Gate Town of Adronach, the great Valen Riddick was overcome and brought down. I was tricked. I was holding the rear, somewhat separated from my companions, who had gone a little ahead. I was fooled into thinking they had captured one of my companions - they imitated our halfling's voice perfectly, and I was led astray. And I was surrounded.
And that was it. All was black in my memories for a very long, long time.
The first thing I remembered was awakening to a strange noise - digging, and what sounded like voices, only in a foreign language. Slowly the noises came closer and the voices resolved into intelligible words.
I awoke in a prison of crystal. When I say prison, I don't mean a cage. I mean I was literally shoved into a wall of crystal. The hole I was in was just big enough for my unconscious body, and crystals scratched and clawed at me on every side.
The woman who looked in on me first was a cleric of the temple of the Dove, and while I am not a follower, I will eternally be grateful to the temple for their servant finding me.
They got me out. She had a group of four others, and they were here in Avernus looking for friends of theirs. I was to find later that they had discovered them, or their remains. At least they had been able to put them to rest. I had no memory and was as weak as a kitten, but their largest fellow, Marcos, carried me out.
I had, as I said, no recollection of who I was, but in the temple, we were attacked, and I begged for a sword. As soon as my hand wrapped around the hilt of one and I looked at the babou, one of the lesser demons, attacked us, I felt in my bones that I was proficient at killing them. I dispatched four without hardly breaking a sweat. As soon as they left and the heat of battle was gone, I collapsed in a heap. But I had at least earned the respect of my new friends.
I also remembered the paths, though I didn't remember how, and with my help, we escaped Avernus. One of their members died before we could fully escape, but they got me out and eventually we came to the surface. One of their number, a knight, gave me a gem with which I was able to equip myself with traveling gear, and I stayed at the temple while I healed.
I found being in Hell had left a myriad of marks on my body. I didn't know if I would ever appear naked before a woman again, the scars were so hideous. I didn't remember the tortures that had caused the scars, though I was sure that the memories would come, and probably be pretty devastating when they did. Front and back, up and down, nearly every inch of me. My face bore them, too, though I was still clearly recognizable, as I discovered when I arrived at the Abby, an old haven of mine, and the Abbot recognized me. He had been but a monk when I last was here, and a junior one at that. But he still recognized Valen Riddick.
It was from him, in his mountaintop retreat, that I finally learned my name, and some of my history. Some of my memories had been coming back already, but I learned from him that the wise voice I heard in my head was my dearest friend's, Haldir Beredrin, an elf who had been traveling with me since I was newly knighted, at eighteen. He also told me of my other friends, Cicero Thistlestop, a halfling, Gregor, my young squire, Yitara, a warrior woman, and Gorris, a GulH'ruk barbarian. I resolved to go looking for them.
And here I was, at the first stage of my journey, arriving at the elves. I was shaken out of my reverie by one of the sailors.
"Messere, we've arrived." I still wasn't introducing myself as Sir Riddick... I hadn't gotten comfortable in my own skin yet, I suppose.
"Thank you." I gathered my measly belongings and dismounted. As soon as my feet touched ground I felt a sense of belonging for the first time since I had returned. I'd been here a thousand times before.
I decided to see what I remembered. I half closed my eyes and let my feet lead me, and they led me unerringly, over the paths, up the hill, right out of the human segregated area. I came soon to a series of gates, something new, with elven guards stationed there. I was surprised that they stopped me as I approached.
In Elvish - it sprang naturally to my mouth - I told them I was here to see Haldir Beredin. They were surprised to hear me speak, and let me pass.
I passed many familiar haunts. Soon I came to the market. I remembered the candy-seller and entered his store. I smiled a little when I recognized the same elf, hardly looking different, selling his wares.
He noticed me, and greeted me by name. Ah, the comforting longevity of the elves - thirty years was nothing to them. Equivalent to perhaps three years in our lives.
I bought the candied flowers I used to love so much, and continued on up the hill, nibbling on them as I went. They were even better than I remembered.
Soon enough I came to a beautiful house, set on the hill - Haldir's. It was surrounded by flowers and beds of roses, and as gorgeous as I remembered. The path to the door was under a bower, and had climbing roses on either side on trellises.
I came up to the latticed door and as I reached out for the little bell hanging on the side a memory came to me, as clear as day, of having to disable the bell because my young squire would ring it incessantly, to the point of annoyance. I lifted the bell to look at the clapper and found that indeed, the clapper was still off. I smiled fondly at the memory. Some things never changed.
I tried the door and found it open as it always was. Stepping inside, the breeze from my entrance made some chimes swing and tinkle, and I knew Haldir would hear it somewhere in the house. I stood in his entryway and waited. Soon enough I heard footsteps, and my old friend turned the corner and came into view.
I hadn't remembered what he looked like, but as soon as I saw him, his face was as familiar to me as my own. For a moment I just stood there, absorbing it, and he did the same. A thousand and one memories came back to me. Haldir and I sitting, talking, a hundred times. His advice, his guidance, his serious demeanor, the respect and love I had for this old, old friend. His marriage - I had been in attendance. Oh my, I remembered her face - she was so beautiful as to make the moon weep out of envy. He'd only been married two months when we went to Hell and I was lost.
Most of all I remembered him at my side, day in and day out, through thick and thin.
**********************
The spell broke and I moved forward. "Haldir, old friend."
"Valen. Is it really you?" We embraced and held each other for a long moment. He held me then at arm's length to look at me.
"You've gotten scrawny," he said, with a hint of mild disapproval.
"That's it?" I laughed. "I come back after all these years and that is all you can say to me? Anyway, welcome me in! Where is Danyalathani? Is she out with her friends? I expected her to come to the door. Your bell is still missing its clapper, by the way."
At the mention of Danyalathani his eyes had shadowed. He smiled at the clapper though. "I never did get around to changing it. Come in, I missed you dearly, my friend."
He didn't say anything about his wife, so I didn't mention her again, and followed him in.
"Do you remember where your old room is?"
