Foreword: The following is not an accurate retelling of actual events though I did attend Lythwain and Emily's wedding May 17th, 1998 as well as spoke with Alliana of the Woods about what defines a person that same night, and thus that is the setting for this story.Vlad Talon

Who are you, Vlad Talon?

The heavy clanking of metal on wood rumbled thru the cozy loghouse. Vlad's head barely missed the ceiling it seemed, all six and a half feet of his massive, muscular body covered in plate armor that had a thin gold finish applied to it. A normal man would hardly been able to even budge with this specially crafted suit, much less go into battle with it. Vlad sparkled, shining like an artificial sun in the middle of the room, feeling smothered, hindered. This was not a suit he wore often, only for special occasions as was today: Lythwain and Emily's wedding.

Vlad dug thru his sparse woodrobe, pushing aside shirt after shirt looking for something that might break up the endless golden shine. His eyes came to rest on a neatly folded ensemble of a deep purple cape and sash. He sank heavily and with a clank onto a wooden crate as he placed the cloth in his hands, almost with a haunting reverence.

His mind flashed to a particular Sunday afternoon nearly seven years back when he had last worn these purple items. His own wedding. He was to be married to his boyhood sweetheart. His first memories with a woman were of her and they had spent nearly their entire childhood growing up together. It only seemed natural that they would continue to grow into their adulthood together. He stood tall that day, just like he did now seven years later, except he was much leaner then, not even close to the muscular man of the present. The purple cape flowed in a sea of flowers as he watched his bride-to-be walk up the alter. He could still hear the deathly still silence as she turned to him, in front of everyone he knew and cared for and stated coldly that she did not love him, never loved him.

Vlad snapped and shook the visage and echos of the past from his mind and unfolded the cloth. He stood up, pulled the sash over the glimmering chestplate, then tied the flowing cape around his neck. He turned to face a dull, smokey mirror and looked at the reflection. Why, certainly Lord British! I would be happy to attend to thy kingdom whilst thee art away! he quiped, not altogether displeased with the man he saw in the mirror. He laughed loudly and resoundingly, shaking his head at the silliness that had taken him for a moment. He gathered his things and started to stride out the door, then turned suddenly back as he realized he had forgotten the wedding present.

Vlad never knew what to give people, especially as a wedding gift. This time he had carved them something special from handpicked cherry wood he had found deep in the forest one day. The carven gift had a round base with two slender flowers on top. Their stems twisted and intertwined around each other as they sprouted towards the heavens, molding and fitting to each other's form. Perched on top of the tall, winding stems were two, fully petaled blooms, turned in and facing each other. The following words were etched delicately into the side of the cherrywood base: Lythwain and Emily: Two Bodies, Two Minds, One Heart, One Soul.

Vlad spied the gift sitting elegantly on a rough hewn table. He took off a clumsy plate glove so as to grasp the object carefully, his large hand easily cupping and holding it for the journey to Nujel'm, the City of Pleasure.

Vlad's mind wandered as he sat by the river's edge. The wedding had been splendid, but had sparked a chord with him. A humming tune emanated from his lips. A soft, almost lonesome, but not entirely sad tune like a solitary tern soaring, floating over a vast, endless sea of rolling waters.

Vlad's mind turned to reverie as a strong wind tugged at his long dark hair, the flashes in his eyes mirroring the flashes of crimson glinting off his strands as the sun dipped low to the horizon. He saw again, his past.

The sagging, weeping figure of a man laid alone at an empty alter. His heart was shattered like the hundreds of swirling flower petals that littered the now barren churchyard. He had been prepared to give his life, his love to a woman, only to be spurned, humiliated in front of everyone. Daggers, cold and icy, spiked his every fiber, shook his very core.

For hours, his listless, dulled body lay crumpled on the ground. Finally, the man's face looked heavnward, facing a silvery moon high in the midnight sky. His lips moved, mouthing silently unspoken words. Vlad made a pact to himself that night seven summers ago. Firstly, never again would he show that special place in his heart to another woman. None would have a chance to spurn what he had freely offered that day. Secondly, he vowed to never show the coldness he had been victim to this day. From this moment on, he would radiate a happiness to all those around him, to try and ease and lift their spirits, and perhaps ultimately ease the pain that had sunken him this fateful day.

Vlad's thoughts returned to the present. For seven years he had kept his own promises. He always tried to meet hostility with an unnervingly merry laugh, a cheery smile. He had built his cozy loghouse with the swing of his own axe, which in turn had built the massive figure and steeled muscles he now had come accustomed to. And, his heart lay guarded, though, he had to admit, he had a weakness for the soft touch of a woman.

Lately, though, he had been forced to reevaluate. Perhaps he had not yet known true love, certainly not with the woman that spurned him. He started to realize that true love existed not in one heart, but in two. He had seen the buddings of true love between the Lady Chaste and the great paladin, AngusThorn. The looks and feelings they presented that afternoon at the Tavern were enough to drive away the forces of hell itself. And Lythwain and Emily. They shared true love. He could hear it in their vows, see it in their soft kiss.

Vlad's mind broke from its images as a feminine, sweet voice pierced thru his thoughts.

Ye look troubled m'lord

Vlad turned, searching for the source of the voice, till his eyes came upon what appeared to be a half-elf, a beautiful woman with deep aquatic blue eyes and light golden hair that was being whipped tumultously in the the increasing strength of the wind.

Nay, not troubled really, just attended Lythwain and Emily's wedding. Started me a thinking, that's all.

Suddenly, Vlad realized the lack of his manners as the stranger leaned her back a bit against a tree behind her. He stood, towering over her, extending a warm, friendly hand, his face containing a smile that never seemed to end, his blue eyes sparkling like the waters behind him.

Forgive me manners. I am Vlad Talon. And ye are?

The elven woman rose nimbly on slender legs and placed her fragile hand in his.

Alliana is my name. Some wind we have here today!

Vlad took her hand, then bent down and placed a gentle kiss on the soft leather in a friendly gesture.

Aye, he be a fiesty fella today!

They both sat back down, then suddenly, Alliana moved her hands and spoke some soft elven words. The wind died down to a whisper. She took out a bottle of ale she had brought from the Tavern and offered it to Vlad.

Care for a drink? The Tavern was getting too busy and noisy, so I came out here.

Vlad looked at her curiously, then produced a mug from his pack and poured some of the sweet smelling liquid into it and raised it to her.

Now that be a neat skill. Me thinks I not be in the presence of the mundane. A toast! To Lythwain and Emily. And to meeting new friends!

Alliana lifted her glass, touching his, then drank the ale.

Aye, may their union of spirits be blessed for all time! So tell me, o eloquent one, who art thou?

Vlad drank his ale, hearing her words. It was as if she was reading his mind almost, gently persuading him to materialize the thoughts he had been thinking about before she spoke to him. Who was he? He paused for a long moment, then laughed merrily at her flattering words.

Eloquent? Me thinks ye flatter me ears with such honey glazed words! I be a simple man really. I seek shelter under the trees, the soft touch of a woman and have a taste for battle when the need arises.

Alliana and Vlad spoke for a while before she finally stood up and walked a few paces away. She made some animated movements, then disappeared into the mist. Vlad watched her go, then turned back to gaze over the river. Somehow, he felt refreshed, enlightened. He was not sure why, but the whistling melody that escaped his lips was more spirited, a light tone that depicted his heart and soul.

-Vlad Talon

Other Vlad Talon Stories:

Reflections in the Wood - May 11, 1998
Lost Sheep - May 13, 1998
Revelations: Eagle or Trout? - May 14, 1998
The Seed that Blossoms - May 18, 1998
Chestnuts and Ebony - May 21, 1998
Passion Waves - June 1, 1998
Bow and Daisy - July 9, 1998