Way of the Elders

"Ha, this is going to hurt!" Gorfind yelled, throwing a fireball into the midst of a band of hobgoblins which exploded on impact slaying them all. "Nereal attack!" He yelled over the battlecrys of the Gnolls, sending his faithful Pseudodragon into battle. The little dragon let an almight flame from its mouth which slew many more beasts, then engaged one in combat, flying around its head and biting. Meanwhile Gorfind was picking off the survivors of the breath with his bow, crafted and enchanted by the Elves of Wayrest.

"Good work my freind" Gorfind said as he handed Nereal some fresh meat as a reward. Cormanthor had proven to be rich in game and food had never been a problem. During his trance for the night images flashed across Gorfind's mind. Himself at the base of an ancient tree, one he recognised from travels deeper into the forests of Cormanthor. Hordes of monsters unlike any he had experienced in his vast travels swarmed his image. All seemed lost, surely he would be slain among the beasts, but rather an explosion erupted from the centre of the horde where Gorfind stood. This was followed by two more blasts, they seemed like fireballs, but more powerful.

The source of these fireballs then flashed into his mind, it was Nereal. But how had the little dragon produced so much fire? The images continued. Nereal stood as tall as the elder dragons, pillars of flame streaming from his mouth to protect Gorfind from this horde. Deciding he had better help Gorfind began an incantation. Pure magic erupted from Gorfind's hands, the entire horde was downed. A legion of slain... things with Gorfind standing in the centre, some higher being approaching. Gorfind saw himself being presented with some reward, but what and by who?

The images swirled into a milky smoke, then faded out completely as Gorfind left his trance. This was indeed puzzling. Humans often spoke of things called 'dreams' which occured as visions in their sleep, but elves did not sleep and no elf had ever been reported to have had one. "Could it be?" he asked himself.

The tale was one often told in Wizard school, but Gorfind had always waved it aside as myth. Familiar of Elder size, increased power. Magic that seemed as raw and potent as that of the creator races. They say the elders call upon their chosen during their trances, seeking one worthy of the elder's gifts. The myth is never clear on what exactly these are, but to have come from the elders they must be powerful.

It was a good three days travel to the tree he had seen by Gorfind's reckoning. Off they went, a day's travel to Wayrest where the first night was spent. The dreams were had again, this time with a stifled voice saying "Keeeeeeeeerrrmmmmmmmm Gurfids" In the morning he was off again. On the second day Gorfind was ambushed by an evil ranger, but a flap of his palm and pure magical energy tore the attackers very soul from its body. The third night since his dreams began, again the dream of the previous two nights, the voice clear this time "Come Gorfind, time is short. You must hurry. The tree of elders must be saved."

Making full use of his elven fitness Gorfind ran the entire way, arriving at the tree he had seen a little after noon. The magic in his blood was pulsating, Gorfind could feel the raw power manifesting itself inside him. Nereal flew off, presumably to find something to eat.
Gorfind set up camp, which consisted souly of a fire to cook on.

A hail of arrows came from nowhere, but Gorfind sent them off course with magical winds. Then came the horde of his dream, Gorfind flung fireballs into their ranks, taking large chunks from thier force with every one. He picked off the stragglers with his bow, forcing them into tight ranks to be further hit by fireballs.

The beasts swarmed over Gorfind, but with an almighty roar he flung them off with a huge explosion erupting from his hands. The dream was coming true, Gorfind summoned the wall of flames. Nereal retuned, The size of an elder dragon as he had seen, massive pillars of flame erupting from his mouth to assist his master. Gorfind blasted the horde with spell after spell. He had slain so much that no longer did he need to cast, but rather raw magic erupted at his command. Gorfind let out an almighty blast, and the entire legion was slain. He stood over the dead corpses examining them he saw they appeared to be demigods.

A higher being approached, the one from his dream. It spoke in a melodic voice "Gorfind, you came, you saved the tree of elders"
"This is the tree of elders!?" Gorfind said stunned
"Yes, you are our chosen one for this time. Do you accept this role as defender of the plane?"
"I do, may I prove worthy of the elder's trust"

"Take these gifts Gorfind Be'dwa, and protect the plane at all costs"
The being reached to the tree of elders which bent itself down to give away a limb. The being handed Gorfind the limb, which had magically become a staff. It was ancient and gnarled, as the staff of elders has been described to him. A large knot at one end, magical energy inside the staff. The being next took Gorfind's bow and encrusted it with the bones of the divines he had slain. This was the bow of elders, it seemed those arguing about the gifts of elders were both right. The bow was exactly as described in myth, one of elven origin encrusted with the bones of the divine.

That night Gorfind's trance was unhindered, back to normal aside from a quick voice near the end.
"Godspeed Gorfind, Godspeed"

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