DM POST: Consequences

The shopkeepers bell rang as she pushed her way in through the door. Her movements graceful and barely making a whisper as she walked across the floor.

"Were closed", came the expected cry from the back of the shop. She strolled on casually through the store and through the curtain leading to the storage room. There sat the potions-maker sitting over his beakers and tubes, writing notes in his book.

"I said were clo..", the words stuck in his throat as he saw his visitor standing there, 'I am so sorry my lady, I did not expect your visit so soon"?

"And why, good Rolan, were you not expecting me. We have an unfinished business venture that I would like to see resolved. Is your "customer" still interested in his purchase"?

"Unfortunately, my mistress, he has backed out of the arrangement. Once I warned him of the possible conclusions of such an act, he decided to halt the transaction"

She stood impassively, her eyes locked onto his face, unblinking... unyielding... His knees began to shake under the stare, fear beginning to shoot through his body light small lightning strikes. "Why, good Rolan, did you warn of any negative conclusions... that was not part of our arrangement?"

"It only seemed right that he should make an informed decision"

"It seemed.... right....... Rolan, Rolan, Rolan, naive and generous Rolan... you are so kind... and foolish. For now we find ourselves in quite the predicament. We now have an unknown individual who has the knowledge that such powerful magic can be performed,  he knows the form of magic it requires, and we also have a blundering shopkeeper with this information, and not enough sense to know what and what not to share with his customers. What should we do about this, Rolan?" She began to advance toward him, one slow step at a time. The air in the room began to grow heavy and a chill swept through the air.

"Please, my mistress, forgive me, I thought he would go through with the transaction. He may even return here and I know I could convince him of it", he rose from his seat, his hands up in front of him as he pleaded for her forgiveness. He backed away across the room. As his back came against the wall he fell to his knees, begging for her to stop.

"Oh, I am afraid it is to late for that, my good Rolan, you should have been more discerning in your business dealings. It is time for you to learn what happens to those who cross me"

She towered over the weeping man and began the incantation.

"Please! Please do not kill me"

Rolan began to convulse on the floor, writhing in agony at the punishment she inflicted. "Kill you? Well I suppose it may come to that, but surely you must know, my good Rolan, that it will not be a permanent problem"

Evellyn Godrick--Home

Evellyn went home.

It was the night of an annual gala her parents always attended, to schmooze with other rich people about how rich they were. She remembered dressing up for them as a child, loving the pretty gowns, but hating the hours of boring chit-chat she'd had to endure. Her father would make her perform her latest piece on the flute, or asked his friends to quiz her about her knowledge of history. She felt like a stage act, but not in a good way. She was performing for the sake of her father, not for herself.

The neighborhood was still and quiet at night. She was hooded and made sure no one noticed her walking up the steps to her home.

She took an old key from her side. Her mother had taken the house key from Evellyn after one of their many fights, but she had had copies made.


Just in case, she thought at the time. Like, if one of her parents were hurt and she needed to get in to get something, a tonic or potion, to help them.

Now she was coming to help herself.

She unlocked the large wooden door and stepped inside. The air was fresh and clean, unlike the musky air of the Segrac, or her cramped apartment in the city.

She walked up a small staircase and looked into her room. Pink bedding and curtains against the wooden walls. She snuck in and felt around the floor boards.

One tipped.

She gently lifted it, and pulled out a pink diamond. Her father had given it to her as a present for her last birthday home. Her mother took it from her after one of their many fights and stored it in the family safe.

Evellyn was smart enough to make it look like a burglary attempt a few weeks later. Then she hid it in the floorboards. When she left for life at Segrac, she didn't have the nerve to take it with her. IT was hers, she figured, but what would she do with it as a bard making a more humble wage? Wearing it around the city would only make her a target for pick-pockets. 

It would make for a large setting in a ring for a halfling, but was about medium sized for a human. Ostentatious on a halfling hand, but fitting for a noble Eladrin.

She had no idea where her parents had gotten it from. But now the group--they really needed to come up with a name; Ricin's Ragtag Team of Rascals?--might need it for something. Like Zorah's entry fee. Or supplies. Or items for rituals and potions. Or food, if they really had to go underground at some point.

She pocketed the diamond, gently replaced the floorboard, walked out the door, and locked it.

The Recommendation

"Join the guard?"

Butterfly wings erupted in Zorah's middle. She sat up straighter and folded her hands on the table. She swallowed, but it was the only outward sign of her fear. "What does the process entail?"

The dwarf outlined the basics of joining the guard, and then beckoned for Zorah to follow him to the back.

He presented her with a pair of silvery grey gloves.

"Part of my uniform?" He shook his head and grinned. Mystified, she put them on, only to stifle a scream as the tips lengthened into sharp points. She waved them wildly, causing them to grow another few inches. "What the hell are these?" The dwarf chuckled as she glared at him. He taught her the basics and, after a few swipes, the glittering claws shifted back into the gloves and Zorah went back out to the table to display her new weapons.

"I don't want to hear any jokes pertaining to cats," said Zorah with a raised brow.

-

Zorah went home, the new gloves stowed safely away. She pulled out a piece of parchment, a quill and ink, and an old letter.

A candle was lit and the materials dumped on the table. Zorah sat and bit her lip, thinking, then dipped her quill in the soft, dark ink and wrote slowly, careful to flourish the appropriate symbols, glancing every so often at the old, crumpled letter.

At the end of the piece, she left a large, blank rectangle. She studied the signature on the old letter for several minutes before creating an exact replica on her sheet.

There. And now the finishing touch...

"I knew this would come in handy, one day." Zorah pulled out the family seal and melted a bit of wax above the candle. As she waited, her gaze lost its artistic intensity and shifted into a soft, sorrowful stare. She wondered, as she did every day, what had happened to her family after she'd left. Where was Autumn? Would she see her again? Would her father ever ask any of them to come home? Was he still alive? Was he deeper in trouble than he had been before? What had he done to save himself after they'd gone?

He had not been the kind of father she'd wished, yet the familial bond was still there. After all the years of watching him falter as he pursued a way out from debt and political intrigue with any means necessary, he was still her bloodline. And now she was using his name to pursue justice, albeit in a rather underhanded way. Would he have appreciated the irony? She doubted it.

After the wax had melted, Zorah folded up the parchment and poured the quickly drying wax onto the closure. After stamping it with the impressive family crest of a shield covered in shooting stars, she slumped and gazed at her handiwork.

"I wonder if Mother ever knew how I used all those art lessons she paid for..."

She cast the letter onto the table and leaned forward to blow out the candle.

Evellyn Godrick---All Things Fall

The greatest heartaches in Evellyn's life had occurred with her parents. Certainly, the consternation between the two parties was real and painful. But Evellyn had been raised by generally good people, in a safe neighborhood, had been given a good education, and had every material need met. Her parents could have been better in the support department, but they weren't evil. Evellyn had never encountered evil.

She didn't understand people like Hernando, who lived on the edge of the law, murdering for profit. She didn't understand Kirsi and Zorah, who held desperate secrets close to their hearts as they tried to forge some small bit of good in the world. She didn't understand the pervasive injustice faced each day by Silvus aka The Hood. She didn't understand Death's fascination with...death.

She had been strong, but sheltered. Now her city, the city she sang for, the city she dreamed about fighting for  in some heroic tale, had been revealed to her in all its shades of red: fire and blood.

In Mind Space, in that gossamer boundary between consciousness, she had confronted pain, evil, and heartache. She saw things as they really were.

She had always wanted to be the bard that not only sang about epics, but was in an epic. She was living the  tale, but she couldn't dare sing about it. Not while there was so much darkness surging in and around the city.

Sometimes, she wondered what would happen if she told everything. If it was all exposed, like a curtain being drawn back? If she wove a song of woe and truth for her listeners?

She would have to have proof that no one could doubt. And she would die for it. ,

She would go down in a blaze of glory. When the time came she would sing the truth to others. She would confront the fire that raged in the depths of the city.

Was she ready? 

She placed her flute in her spiked hands, her mouth to the tone hole.

Ready.

Sorrowsworn Ring

“Your faith is a strange one” she says to me.

I hold back unwise words...I hold back my scythe.

I dare not strike out against one in service to the Raven Queen. Who am I to question those she has called to her service? And yet she says to me, “Your faith is a strange one”? My faith should only be beheld as strange by those who know not faith! Those who know not the Raven Queen and her power!

It is not my place...I have no right to oppose the Raven Queen herself by questioning those she has appointed to represent her. It is through these very people I was allowed another vision...another glimpse into my destiny...into this cities destiny. Through these very people that I received this ring. Rampant with her power, better equipping me to do her will.

This ring is yet a constant reminder I do not know her ways. I cannot know her mind. Her reach is beyond my reckoning into many more peoples than I would deem worthy.

I must assume this new group of people somehow is within her plan. I will assist them as she leads me.

Hernandos Journal.

Wednesday, 9:00pm
Why shouldn't I kill him, don't I deserve to live? I can think of a hundreds ways to go about it.  It wouldn't be that hard really, he's is just an Eladrin that wants to feel like he is in control of us, that's the only reason he's been in Zarcharis so long. I can't even imagine why they want me too? Why, I ask you? Why kill this guy, is he just bad for business?  But then again, why say that your going to kill me if I don't?  The regular rate would have been fine? Do they not think I can?  Are they threatening me with my life because they think I can't kill one "holier than thou" eladrin?  I will gladly kill him for free, if it's to prove that I can, I have done that many times before.  I have proved myself to many men who question my ability, either by killing them, or the one they want me to kill.  However, I have never had a client ell me that if I don't, they will kill me..... Break a leg, hand, or take my money. yes, but not kill me.
Is he that important?  Sure he puts away a few thugs, who, by the way,  deserve to get caught seeing how sloppy they were working. That can't be that bad for business.  Most of them get out on bribes and/or escape anyway.  Was it them that tried to kill him before? How were they not successful then? I'lll tell you how, they were sloppy, and they didn't have me.


Thursday 11am
Couldn't sleep last night, thinking to much and came to a problem.
He hasn't done anything wrong.   I have always known why or at least had an inclining of why a person deserved to die, and in turn I deliver them to death.  But the more I know of this man, this Silvanus, the more I don't want to kill him. I'm sure he has done something wrong in his life, but nothing that would deserve this.  Dano would just tell me to not mess with these guys and just do the job and be happy, but that is the problem, if they are willing to kill me if I don't kill him, then what is stopping them from doing it after I do.  All they will have to do is come in and kill me right after. Dios Mio.....

Thursday afternoon
I need to know why.  I will ask him, and with a blade to his neck he will tell me why someone wants him dead.  If there is no answer, I will preserve my life and end his.  I'm might be able to ask the hood if he knows about this guy, if I see him before tonight.

The Pendant

Kirsi fingered the pendant now around her neck. She hadn't even been able to wear it after her husband's death, the memories were just too strong. Now it was more comforting, especially with the strange protection it seemed to be offering her. Since the city seemed to burning down around her, both the physical protection and the constant reminder that someone had cared for her were invaluable.
The past few days seemed like such a whirlwind, but Kirsi hoped that she could find more purpose in this than in fighting alone. However, she was having trouble forgetting the events at the guild house. She wondered if her lack of sympathy and remorse for the man they had killed were due to his twisted nature or to the coldness growing inside her. He certainly deserved death but she wasn't sure if the decision should have been so easy or made so lightly. As she touched the necklace she made a promise to be more cautious of the road she was walking down; she did not want it to be the same as that of the Efreeti.

Nightmare

Zorah awoke, a scream dying on her lips. The nightmares were changing. Usually, they centered around her husband finding her and dragging her back to a horror-filled existence. After waking up from one of those, she could almost always comfort herself with the fact that he was thousands of miles away, with no possible inkling of where she was.

This time, however, someone else had recognized her. And they were here.

She shivered, pulling the covers closer. The grey dawn crept in under the shutters, streaking the dark blanket Zorah hid under.

Afraid to be completely alone, she slipped off the bed and hurried into a grey dress. She donned a dark cloak and slid out of the building, trying not to sprint toward the Segrac Cellar.

Zorah had no idea whether the dream had been a premonition or simply a reaction to the events of the past few days, but as she skittered through alleyways and took precautions to avoid the main thoroughfares, she wondered if a new disguise was in order.

DM PREVIEW

He struggled against his bonds, screaming out in agony..

"the pain... the stress... the pull...."

He could feel it consuming him, his skull on the verge of exploding....

"Endure.... endure....."

He fought to maintain his focus...  to keep his wits... to survive

"..losing...control...."

The pressure built, reaching a climax, until suddenly

release...

            numb....

                     slipping away...

                                          mortality...

                                                            farewell....

DM POSt: Portent of Flame (Part 2 of 2)

Evellyn continued to walk the shadowy streets of her mind's perception of Zarcharis with a growing sense of anticipation. Ricin had come and gone, leaving her with very few answers and far more questions. There was one thing at least he did make clear, she has to use this moment to look for answers to help the others. The shade-structures continued to burn, surrounding her in eerie fires that gave no light, no heat, no hope; a perfect image of the city itself, a city losing every strand of hope it could grasp onto as they burned away in the fires of corruption, greed and despair.

The pulsing power continued to increase in intensity, a sign she took to mean she was nearing its source. Ahead of her a red glow began to build, emanating from within one of the shadow structures. She halted her march to better take in her surroundings. The buildings that formed around her had a more "solid" state to them and they seemed to be lined with a greater fire than the others she had seen in her time here. Many buildings began to burn around her, the flames spreading at random, but not without cause. All around her she caught fleeting images of creatures resembling humanoid-lizards wreathed in flame and flaming bats wheeling through the air above her. These denizens went throughout the area leaving a chaotic swath of burning structures in their wake.

"Time to see what else I might accomplish with you", she whispered down to her spiked gauntlets. Fearing not the danger she strode forward, determined to find the source of this disaster. The pulsing energy was nearly overwhelming yet she continued on. She pulled forth her flute and began playing a simple tune to keep herself focused and to counter the pervading evil with whatever good came from the sweet melodies she could play. She came to the building where the red glow originated and began to search for an entrance. She searched the perimeter, everywhere her eyes could see for any entrance, any way at all into the building, but none presented itself. Growing increasingly frustrated with her predicament she punched out at the structure as a last resort, unleashing all of her frustration and confusion on the shadowy mass before her and with the fury of the blows she found herself falling right through the wall before her.

She staggered to her feet as she attempted to regain her bearings. She surveyed the space around her looking for anything that appeared amiss. "This whole situation is 'amiss'", she thought to her self with a self-deprecating chuckle, "none of this makes much sense". Yet despite her doubt she could not, would not!, readily set aside the task Ricin had tried to give her, to help the others in anyway she could. The emanations of magic no longer pulsed here, it was constant; a continual state of magical energy poured into the room from some unknown source. Evellyn began to walk around and as she focused her mind more on her task the features of the building began to sharpen, no longer appearing as indistinct masses. The room's walls, wooden, came into focus as well as furniture and even the dimensions of the room; most importantly a door could now be seen leading to a back storage room within the complex.

She crept silently towards the door and as she approached she heard what sounded like excited chattering. Unsure of the effect she her opening the door would have in this "mind realm" she hesitated outside of the door. She pondered everything that had happened to her in the past few days, meeting her new "friends", Balthor's growing monument in the Cellar, the trials and seeing the true face of Zarcharis, meeting Ricin, the trip to the Stoneyard and its many dangers and now this. It seemed so unreal, like a myth or story that has no real ending; something the teller keeps making up as it goes along, each segment becoming more extraordinary than the last. "The stuff legends are truly made of", she thought to herself with a grin. Casting aside her concerns Evellyn pushed open the door and stood in shock at the site before her.

Five robed figures stood around a swirling mass of energy, a rift or tear in the very fabric of reality. Their arms were raised up, their bodies trembling with excitement; most horrifying of all were their faces, they were stretched into some macabre image of glee and terror, frozen, unmoving. Evellyn's eyes were locked on the spectacle before her, unable to deviate from the sight of fanaticism embodied. The perception of time slowed around her, from the rift flames leaped forth, licking the fanatics standing around, and as she watched the look of ecstasy grew.

Evellyn was finally snapped from her hypnotic state by a sudden roar from the rift. She looked towards the portal and there in the midst she beheld a form. It appeared small, as though approaching from a great distance, but it was getting closer. An aura of fear began to pervade the room..

The fiend approached and Evellyn looked into its eyes.

Rage. Anger. Hate.

Unchecked... uncontrollable, like the flames that seemed to comprise its body.

The fiend approached and her courage faltered. She must escape, she must warn the others... to flee... to run... the city was doomed to burn... nothing could stop this... no one could stand against the horror that approached.

She ran.

Through smoky streets and swimming shadows she ran. Her concentration slipping, the world around her gradually losing its shape, its textures, she ran. Only one thought consumed her mind:

"Escape"... but how?

She was stuck here, in her mind, there was no escape back to the real world. She would lie there, wherever there was, until the fires came and consumed her.

She stopped running and collapsed on the ground, despair threatening to overwhelm her. She fought to regain her thoughts, to "see" the world around her, "the truth of it", as Ricin had said. She raised her head and ahead of her she saw a white light gleaming, a beacon in the shadows, a glimpse of hope. Gathering any resolve she had left she lifted herself and walked towards the light. She stopped in her tracks, joy and confusion welling up inside her as she beheld the sight in front of her. Briefly she caught a glimpse of a woman, robed in white, staff in hand, walking towards her, and around her neck she wore an amulet that shined forth in a brilliant light. As the woman passed she felt an aura of cold, unnatural cold, pass her.

"Kirsi.... frozen soul...." the words came filtering back to her mind. Now at last she began to understand in part what Ricin was trying to tell her. Evellyn tried yelling to her but as she turned to where Kirsi was walking she had already faded from view.

"Now, if only Ricin had told me how to get out of here"!

She wandered the streets looking for a way out, searching for anything to help her escape from here, to warn her friends.....

DM POST: The Mind's Eye (Part 1 of 2)

Consciousness slowly settled upon her as she began to lift her head. No sooner did she open her eyes than another wave of dizziness swept over her already fragile mind. She fell back to the ground struggling to subdue the swirling thoughts, trying to grab onto one thing to focus on, a single thought or memory to cling to for direction. The suddenly midst the torrent she heard a simple tune played gently on a lute. She strained her ears to keep the tune in mind and slowly she felt control being restored. The tune still playing in the back of her thoughts she slowly opened her eyes to take in her surroundings. The sky above her was dark, no stars or moon shone across its entirety. She sat up cautiously peering out into the strange world she had awaken in; a world of shadows and.... nothing...


No... not nothing... but....


Flames....


Shadows coalesced into something resembling a structure, but swirling with darkness, insubstantial and yet very present and clinging to the edges, red flames giving no light or heat seemed to burn away at the structure without consuming it; and then as if carried on an un-felt wind they would return to a formless state.


She forced herself to her feet, whatever the danger, she would not face it lying on the ground. The music played on in her mind, strengthening her resolve, fueling her to move on despite the uncertainty. She stood looking around her, at the formless place stretching as far as she could see, at the flames that would dance just out of sight until they faded back into the shadow and smoke. There was no direction to take, no choice better than another. Shadows continued to coalesce and dissipate around her to form familiar shapes, images... memories.... all burning...


Zarcharis...


Those buildings so familiar, so distant, but truly that is where they belonged. The more she bent her mind towards the familiarity of her surroundings the more consistent they became; shadows coalescing into structures that remained, still swirling in the moving shade, still burning in the eternal flames. She began to walk the spaces, the roads, between the shadow-buildings, unclear of her direction but resolute in finding a solution to this puzzle. The sights became more familiar, shadows of the city she knew. As she wandered the shadowy fire-lined streets she began to sense a oppressive force, malignant, evil, powerful.... pulsing about her. She looked further ahead for the source of the emanations and before her on the road stood a hooded figure obscured in the swirling shadows. 


Never one to back away from a confrontation regardless of the potential danger she strode forward to faced this threat head on. Banging her spiked gauntlets together she broke into a run, ready to hit the robed figure with a flying tackle. Just as she was about to leap the figure turned towards her and her eagerness became relief when she stared into the eyes of Ricin.


Where? Who? How? and a thousand other questions flooded into her mind. She wanted to know where everyone else was, where she was exactly, and why and how could shadows burn?


Ricin stared at her with the same unyielding stare, nearly impossible to read. He nodded his head in greeting and then spoke to her saying, "I admit you were not what I expected to see here". His voice was deep and devoid of inflection or any notable tone, so even in every word and yet, she could hear him clearly.


"Where are we Ricin? How can you speak? Were you lying this whole time?"


"To your last question: No. The second shall be answered by the first: We aren't necessarily anywhere, and yet, we are.. in a sense anywhere you have the will to see".

Confusion was evident on her face at the cryptic answer. Needing no further prompting Ricin continued with his explanation. "We are not here.... more... we are just able to see here... our minds are here. I would estimate that you fell prey to the mind attacks of those individuals in my quarters, as I have, they seemed very keen on making sure I was incapacitated, though for what purpose I am not sure". 


"Ricin, you are not making any sense. What mind attack? What people in your quarters? What are you talking about?"


"Yes, that answer was not beneficial, I apologize. Upon return from the Stoneyard we were attacked by unknown assailants, an attack on our minds. I presume, you were affected more than the others, though for what reason I do not know. As for the others, they seem to be fine, and not here. As for here: This is not strictly a place but more of a matter of perception. What you see around you is what your Mind's Eye perceives. Very few people have the discipline to truly see it and fewer still can control it. My guess is with the overload of psionic energy, you were "jumped" here. The Mind's Eye has a way of revealing the truth of your perspectives and the world around you as you see it. So tell me: What have you seen here?"


"Nothing. Shadows, smoke, flames. It looks like Zarcharis, but burning, but not consumed. None of this makes any sense. You know that right?"


"Actually, to me this makes perfect sense. I frequent this state often and have done so for many years; and t is through this that I have found you all. I bent my mind to look at the city, to truly see it, and there I saw each of you, beacons against the despair that chokes this city of all hope. That is why I can speak here; the image of myself before you is a manifestation of my mind. You are in the same state of being, a manifestation of your own mind and it is truly a spectacle that we can share this moment." He paused a bit and seemed to be lost in deep thought. After many moments had passed he looked up and his face was set in a grave expression, "Your perception does not lie, this city burns, everyday... every night. Yet, even now there is something else. A presence, a power that I have never felt when I meditate. Something stirs within the city proper, something we must take action against."


"I felt it to, a pulsing power, strong... and.... evil"


"Indeed. Come my friend, let us look into this matter for as long as we can. I do not know when we will awaken but let us learn what we can so that we may benefit the others upon our return" He motioned for her to walk with him. She fell into stride next to him until he suddenly jerked as if in sudden pain. She watched as he grabbed his head and struggled to maintain his balance. He looked at her in a panic and quickly shouted, "I can't hold on much longer, something is pulling me away! Find out what you can! Help the others and do not worry for me! You", he struggled to spit the last words out, "must... help... them...." he fell to his knees barely able to form words. He looked up and with a last effort he cried out, "Kirsi... give her.... pendant..... the key....Frozen... Soul...". He looked up to the blank sky and let out a cry of anguish and the he seemed to melt away. As she stood staring in confusion and disbelief words came to her mind, almost like a whisper from the back of a deep cavern, "The music will bring you out"


Evellyn stood for just a second more to see if Ricin would reappear. When it became evident that no such thing would happen she steeled herself and made ready to set off to investigate the pulsing magic. Her head swam with so many questions and cryptic commands from Ricin but now was not the time to give in to confusion. She would learn what she could of her present predicament, then she would find a way to make her way back outside of her mind and help her new allies. 

DM POST: The Cullers

His news would be received well and certainly with a matter of urgency so there was little time for formalities. He pushed his way through the large double doors his eyes glowing as two points of light in the gloomy hall. He pushed past the guards, ignoring their commands to halt as he made his way straight to the High Culler’s chair. Dipping a brief bow he delivered his message: “We have located another, sir. A proper and prompt response is necessary”

Azachinus sat back on his dais, the news evoking little or no response. Many had claimed that they had found another; few have ever proven substantiated claims.  Giving the declaration the proper amount of time he responded with an even tone. “You are certain of this”?

“Without any trace of doubt”

“What proof do you offer”?

“We have always kept tabs for the signs. Besides the usual presences detected on this plane, the Flayers, as well as those of less than exemplary power; we have found one that is strong—“.

“That alone is not proof. You know this. What else is there?” Azachinus interrupted him.

“Apologies, I should have begun with the proof first. He is human, we know this for certain. He is the only one with the gift in that region. He currently resides within the remote city, Zarcharis-Taoul.”

“A wretched place by all accounts”, huffed Azachinus, disdain clearly evident in his voice,  “Yet, this is still not verification; even if he be the only being manifesting the capabilities that does not prove anything. What of his lineage? Do we know his Sire, his Grandsire or any of his heritages beyond that? I have little confidence that one could be born in that city and possess the discipline necessary to achieve even a spark of psionic capability, regardless of their family, but let us hear it nonetheless.”

“In all honesty it is this information that should have precluded the rest and stands as the greatest example of our need for intercession”

Growing impatient with the informant, Azachinus heaved a great sigh before consenting, “Go on then”.

“Sir, he has no lineage”

“You mean to say that he has no parents, that he is simply an orphan?” His glowing eyes narrowed as he directed the next sentence directly at the informant, “Things of this nature can still be researched and determined with enough time and dedication”.

He hadn’t missed the insult directed at him. He knew well that he was beginning to annoy the High Culler, an act that was both incredibly difficult and somewhat dangerous to do. Still, he stood resolute and the informant shook his head profoundly, a motion that further intrigued the High Culler. “No. I mean to say he has no relatives here on this plane, or anywhere else that we can tell. We have inquired from sources in this plane and beyond, even summoning other entities to gather information for us. Nothing substantial could be found except a scroll that was addressed to the Council. We found it in a goblin warren, spoils of a long ago raid. Even this scroll seems to indicate that he appears to have just… manifested… for lack of a better word”

Further intrigued, Azachinus held out his hand for the scroll.

“The scroll also came with this, we believe, as we found the two attached within the goblin horde”. The informant held aloft a blue silk bag, sagging with what appeared to be a heavy object within. Azachinus sat in long thought, pondering over the scroll and the information presented to him. This news was indeed particularly interesting. Reports of this kind were not unheard of but nevertheless, rather rare. He leaned forward, his glowing eyes locking those of the informant as he waved his hand to indicate that he should continue.

Growing more eager with every passing second, the informant, no longer able to contain himself, pressed the point further, “He must be gathered. There can be no doubt of what he can be, even if there is doubt of what he is. He is strong; already he demonstrates great power, even without the rituals.”

Azachinus stood up from the chair upon the dais and descended. He placed his hand upon the informant’s shoulder before issuing his response, “Dispatch The Cullers to Zarcharis-Taoul. You, Teferil, shall lead them, since you seem so eager to see this come to pass.  Bring him back here to us and we shall see if this….”

“Ricin”

“An appropriate name, very well, we shall how long this “Ricin” will cling to his mortal coil”

DM POST: THE SOUL RING

The Three Sisters

Zorah entered her tiny dwelling and closed the door, weariness pervading every cell of her body. She flopped onto the bed and stared up at the cracked ceiling, wondering what the morrow would bring. For once, she wasn't frightened that her husband would find her. She was simply too tired.

After taking a few slow breaths to relax, Zorah sat up and stared out the window. One of her fingers found a hole in the thin, dusty comforter and worried it absently. She needed to decompress.

In the wooden trunk at the foot of the bed, Zorah had managed to collect a small supply of artist's materials. She leaned over and opened the lid, inhaling the scents of oil pigment and turpentine. A piece of stiff parchment served as her canvas, and soon Zorah was engrossed in producing a portrait of her youngest sister, Autumn.

Zorah, Autumn, and their eldest sister, Celia, had grown up in a country estate, away from all the pomp and circumstance of the city. Their mother had insisted, even though their father, Lord Kaspar, had his offices in town. Their mother knew what dangers lay in the city and wanted to keep her daughters as far away as possible.

Unfortunately, after her death, the three girls had no choice but to move into their father's townhouse and make do with the noise, filth, and questionable practices of the politicians and merchants who ran the city.

Autumn shocked everyone by being the first to leave - she caught a ship bound for the other side of the world, and while Lord Kaspar went white with fury at the mere mention of his rebellious daughter's name, Zorah knew it had been his fault that Autumn had left.

Celia married into a religious family who kept above the moral filth in the city by leaving it for the countryside. Zorah envied Celia her luck, but of course could not hope for the same.

Zorah was the last to leave. She had determined to skip town just like Autumn and make her own fortune as an artist (which was expressly against Lord Kaspar's wishes) when her fate made itself clear. Her father became entangled with a secretive group of officials and when he could not extricate himself cleanly, he offered up his last daughter as payment.

Count Orreq must have been part Boneclaw...Zorah never remembered him without shuddering at his grotesque, claw-like hands and skeletal frame. He showered her with pretty flowers, compliments, and jewelry, but underneath there was a revolting slug with an unquenchable thirst.

Zorah had never told anyone the reason she'd left. She supposed her friends had thought he'd beaten her or treated her harshly. She never revealed that she'd left because he had appetites she refused to satisfy.

She shook herself out of the unpleasant memories and gazed sadly down at the portrait of her darling sister. Where was she now? Was she safe? Did she have companions she could rely on? As for herself, she wasn't sure how safe she was here, and as for reliable companions...well, she'd just have to wait and see.

DM POST: DENIZENS OF THE STONEYARD

PREVIEW FOR THE COMING WEEK

Quotes and Moments of Awesome

"That guy throws giant dice at people. Fuck'im." Stu, in Brooklyn voice

"Ice"+hand motions. -Elizabeth

"I defended myself with the power of music and my spiked gauntlets." -Evellyn Godrick/Gina

"You want me to do business with you and yet you're whistling while I'm fucking trying to talk to you?" -Stu/Hood/Silvus to Dano

Mike: There is crazy shit going on.
Robbie: How high's the ceiling?

Mike (as Evellyn's parent): You expect us to drink from that?
Gina (Evellyn): From that? He makes ale, we don't milk him every night.

"Butt sneeze." Stu or Robbie, can't remember who.

"Bitch, don't tell me you don't hear the voices too!" Robbie as Hernando, climbing up The Hood

"Human/halfling high five. Eladrin, you can suck it." Hernando

"I'm gonna do an intimidate check with my breasts. I get to roll twice cuz I got two of them." Robbie in "Jersey Shore" voice

"I'll hide it up my ass." Gina, in reference to Evellyn's flute

There were lots of other great quotes that I just didn't write down. I'll try better next time.

Moments of Awesome:
Hernando almost getting caught by the town guard.
Ricin entering all of our minds.
Going out and fighting together against a common enemy when the characters didn't know each other yet
Elizabeth critting on the Mage
Zorah talking smack to Silvus
Ricin paralyzing Lugo and Hernando's kill blow
Baltor proudly displaying the loot from Evellyn's kill
The little kid talking to Kirsi (the whistling...is it Dano in some disguise? is Dano more than he seems?)

Moments of Suck:
Lorthis entering the courtroom
Not knowing what the eff was going on
Lugo's ability to teleport
Lugo and his friends being in the bar

W A N T E D

Lord Orrington raised a glass, the silver contents of which might have been sparkling with some kind of barely discernible spell, and clinked it in toast with Lady Orrington. "There's something satisfying about fire," he said. "It changes, it transforms what it touches into something altogether different, on a basic, chemical level. It changes the landscape forever. Fire is the natural cleanser."

The Lady nodded, sipping her drink lightly, peering over the rim with smoldering admiration. "That's a very nice way of saying that your competition is gone."

"Well. Sometimes I'm just a nice guy." He sat his glass down and turned with a sweeping motion toward the enormous map on his wall. "Now that the Eladrin settlement has been wiped out, there is more than enough room for my new hunting reserve. It's amazing how such a powerful enemy will fall to such a primal weapon."

The Lady giggled, snapping her fingers. A blue flame leapt to life between them. "Well... the fact that it was magically uncontrollable helps."

"Indeed it did," he admitted. "You sexy thing." He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. The magical flame extinguished, forgotten as her concentration shifted elsewhere. They kissed--

--And an arrow smashed through the Lord's head, through to the Lady's. Unable to separate, they collapsed to the ground together, convulsing as their newly ruptured brains tried to process what was happening, even as those brains began to shut down.

A servant entered with fresh food and stopped cold, the tray he was carrying spilling to the floor. He looked up to see a hooded figure in the window, lowering a bow with shaky, discolored hands. Hands that looked burned. He could not see a face, but he heard a raspy voice. "Tell all the humans. The Eladrin lands should never know the untrustworthy stench of your kind again. Return there at your own risk."

And then the hooded figure was gone, tumbling deftly back through the window.

The pain was excruciating. A potion would heal it, and that wouldn't be hard to find. But for now, the feeling the flames had left imprinted on his mind hounded him, the raw nerves under his burned skin throbbing. Silvus Highblade had been lucky to be near the enchanted pool in the temple, but few had reached it in time. It was so far beneath the ground, and accessible by a single narrow staircase. The sounds of the bottleneck above were horrendous even as the flames spread down to where he was. He was speaking to his mother, a druid priestess. They tried, but the fire was hot, it moved fast and the pool was only so big. People would have the flames extinguished, but in making room for others be exposed to them again.

Silvus was finally shoved in by his mother and paralyzed by a spell. Her final act left him as the sole survivor. He hadn't immediately understood that the flames disappeared because the one controlling them with her mind had released her hold on them.

But once he did, he began searching for her. It didn't take long.

All he knew was gone. His own skin was black and bloody. Everything would be different now. That was the thing about fire. It changed whatever it touched.

DM POST: RICIN (Backstory)

WHAT CAN ONE MAN DO?

The day at the temple had been much like any other. He quietly went about his duties, trying to stay out of the way, doing his best to be ignored. He understood his role here, “Do not be noticed and keep everything tidy”. He spent his time thinking and listening to the world around him. He moved over to a table where a patron had left a pile of scrolls and parchments scattered everywhere. He sighed and began to organize the items to be shelved in their proper places. As he did so he reminisced about his life in this place.

The temple of Ioun was more an immense library than a temple proper and he had spent most of his life here. The temple was dedicated to the god Ioun, the god of the mind, truth and knowledge and as such it was the largest public collection of information in the city of Zarcharis. It was a rather easy life in the temple; the number one rule was easy enough for him to follow, “Be QUIET”. He had never spoken a word to anyone in the temple, or outside of it for that matter. In fact, he had never spoken a word in his life.

He had wandered into the temple as a young child. The priests saw him wandering around the many shelves and levels of the library and questioned him; “Who are you” “What is your name” “Who are your parents”. The boy looked at them with understanding in his eyes, but could not form the words to answer their probing. After some time, the priests discerned his ailment, the boy was a mute. Barrin, a rather eccentric priest, took a particular interest in the child. Indeed, it was Barrin who had decided to give him a home in the temple, and gave him his

name: Ricin. Barrin provided Ricin an education that far exceeded any other child’s in the city. Unlimited resources were at his disposal and Ricin proved to be an insatiable learner. So Ricin grew into a young man and spent his life there within the walls performing mundane tasks and reading anything he could.

He finished placing the scrolls and parchments in their correct places. The temple library was closing soon so he hustled about making sure everything was in its place for tomorrow’s patrons. That night, just like every night, Ricin took an armful of scrolls to his room and settled in to read them all before he went to sleep. He had done this ritual every night since Barrin had taught him to read. Recently, he began to catch Barrin staring at him intently, watching him read, and studying him and tonight he had made plans to ask what it was that Barrin was looking for. He settled into his chair, lit some candles and began to read another scroll on the history of Zarcharis-Taoul. Not long into it, he heard the door open and Barrin stepped in. He turned to greet the priest kindly and saw that Barrin was again staring at him intently. He furrowed his brow, asking with facial features what Barrin was doing. Barrin never moved, never blinked; he just stood there, eyes fixed on Ricin. In his hands, he held a small orb that Ricin had never seen before. It faintly glowed, giving off a pale blue light.

Ricin froze, unsure of how to react to this strange behavior.

“What do you want?” he thought to himself, aiming the question towards Barrin.

“Just that Ricin”, the thought came screaming into his mind, a voice not his own. Barrin’s voice!

Ricin jumped up from his seat, confusion and excitement building in his mind. He turned to Barrin, facial expressions demanding answers to the exchange. Barrin looked at him with equal excitement and motioned for him to sit back down. Pulling up a chair beside him, Barrin began to explain, “I had always though you might possess capabilities that are seldom seen in the human race, indeed, in many races on the surface world.”

“What capabilities? What do you mean” Ricin thought to himself.

Barrin looked at him sternly; his demeanor emulating the same of Ricin’s learning years, that of the insistent teacher.

“It is perfectly acceptable to aim your questioning thoughts towards me Ricin! There is no need to be impolite”

“Sorry, Master. I am just… unsure of all of this. How did you know?”

“The day you wandered into the temple I knew there was something different about you my lad. Call it an old man’s intuition, or the faint hope of an eccentric fool”, he chuckled audibly to himself.

“This”, Ricin paused, “This is amazing! I can talk to you; in a manner of speaking”. The pun was not lost on the bright young scholar or his master. His eyes beamed with joy at the thoughts of his new found abilities.

“Oh, Ricin, you can do so much more than that my lad. Come now, it is time for another series of lessons. You know about the history of this city; now I shall teach you of its current situation. Not only that, it is time we trained you to use this wonderful gift”.

3 years later…

Barrin had showed him much in the last few years. Day after day, night after night, he would take him out into the streets to see the true face of Zarcharis. He would take Ricin to the Tribunal courts to witness the injustice; they would comb the dregs in the dead of night and see the squalor and poverty of the masses. Upon returning to the temple from these forays he would demand that Ricin train and hone his new found abilities. So it went for years, until the day came when Barrin could no longer make the trips with him. The old priest had grown older, his body failing.

Ricin sat alone in his room. Scrolls lay strewn about his desk from another nights reading. His desire for knowledge, for truth, was as insatiable as ever. He sat on the floor, calmly meditating, easing his mind. He directed it out on the streets of Zarcharis, probing them, an invisible eye in the dark alleys. He passed many places his Mind’s Eye could not penetrate, shadows too deep for him pierce; no not shadows… smoke. The city was burning, smoldering in a pile of ashes of corruption, greed and malice. There was pain, so much pain, and grief; he could sense it, threatening to overwhelm him. A scream cut through the still night, the flames of the city grew hotter and Ricin was thrust back into his own mind. He took a moment to survey his room. Through the window he saw the same dark night that was present earlier. The city was not truly burning; the smoke was not real, just figments in his mind.

Ricin looked down to the orb in his hands, a gift from Barrin; it was still shining a brilliant blue, casting his entire arm in a bright blue flame. Ricin waited until the orb faded back to its normal state and lifted himself off of the floor. He made his way to Barrin’s room hoping to catch the old priest before he went to sleep for the evening. He slowly cracked open the door just to see if his master was awake. Across the room he could see Barrin lying on his bed, his back towards the door. Ricin began to slowly close the door back until he heard a familiar voice in his head, “Come in my lad. I am not yet asleep”.

Ricin walked into the room but his senses told him something was amiss. He looked to Barrin who had managed to turn over and sit up on the bed. Barrin was old, the years of service to Ioun in the temple and the relentless training and education of his protégé had taken their toll on the man’s body.

“Ricin, my boy, tell me: What did your meditations show to you this evening”?

“I saw the city aflame, smoke filling the streets and alleys, obscuring my sight. I heard a scream and then I was back here”. Barrin thought long about the response, his head nodding as he digested the information.

“Ricin, I want you to listen to me my lad. My time here is coming to an end. Soon. I have one last lesson for you”.

“What is it? I am ready”

“I wonder if you are. The lesson is simple, Ricin, but its significance will not be fully realized for some time. I want you to answer this question: After everything you have seen, experienced and learned; from your own unknown origins to the daily decay of this city. You have seen it Ricin, you have seen its flames, it burns and the flames are growing. What can one person do about it?” Barrin paused, giving his pupil time to contemplate this question. “Well? What is your answer”?

Ricin thought about his master’s question. He ran it through his mind, searching for any extra meaning, hidden riddle, anything in the context to arrive at the correct answer. His mind could draw nothing but a blank.

“I do not know, master”, he replied, embarrassed at his failure.

“Hmm. Well, Ricin, when you learn the answer to that, you will unlock a power that no force in this city or beyond can match.” Barrin slumped back to his bed, laying his head back on the pillows as his breathing became shallow. “Ricin”, the connection between their minds grew weaker, “search out the answer. Do not be afraid, do not hide. This city needs you... how long will you wait?” With this last question the connection broke off. Ricin struggled to reestablish the communication, but he watched helplessly as Barrin’s chest rose and fell for the last time.

Ricin sat in silence, holding the hand of his mentor. No tears were shed, no break of composure. His mind, though distracted from the loss of his dearest and only friend, was consumed with finding the answer to the last lesson. So it was that the other priest found him the next morning. Funeral plans were made and soon the body of Barrin was placed upon the pyre. Ricin watched as the flames consumed the body of his mentor, releasing his spirit to Ioun’s keeping. He left the site while the flames still burned hot, returning to his room to gather his things. The temple was no longer home without Barrin and Ricin knew it was time to move on. It was time to go answer the question.