The Coming of the Zioth
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Book 1

Chapter 1plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigChapter 1: A Chance Meeting in Dunweig (Rewrite of turn 1)

This is a rewrite of Turn 1, and the second revision of this chapter (previous version). I have taken many more liberties with events and dialogue in these rewrites than in the turns, where I never modify dialogue except to correct typos.

It had been a long journey, and there was still a long way to go. It was a month today since

Chapter 2plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigChapter 2: An Anxious Employer (Rewrite of turns 1, 2 and 3)

This is a rewrite of Turn 1, Turn 2 and Turn 3, and the second revision of this chapter (previous version). I have taken many more liberties with events and dialogue in these rewrites than in the turns, where I never modify dialogue except to correct typos.

Ardith, Sahlman and Brinn exchanged the names of the inns where they were staying, and they agreed to meet at the Red Eye Tavern at noon. When they got there, they sat at a table together and ordered food. Soon,

Chapter 3plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigChapter 3: Knowing All the Facts (Rewrite of turns 3, 4 and 5)

This is a rewrite of Turn 3, Turn 4 and Turn 5.

Continuing was difficult at first. Ardith and Ziedon could only carry the townsman so far, and they had to stop every minute or so to rest. Brinn was not nearly tall enough to take a corner of the litter. Although Sahlman tried to help, it was obvious that his arm was causing him trouble, and after half an hour, he had to admit that he'd done all he could.

Chapter 4plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigChapter 4: Trouble in Grenzig (Rewrite of turns 5, 6, 7 and 8)

This is a rewrite of Turn 5, Turn 6, Turn 7 and Turn 8.

With Brinn strapped securely to his back, Sahlman climbed the rope. Occasionally Brinn would startle the warrior by jerking his head suddenly and mumbling, as if waking from a dream.

Kay pulled up the rope when Sahl reached the top.

Chapter 5plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigChapter 5: Taking the Town by Force (Rewrite of turns 6, 7 and 8)

This is a rewrite of Turn 6, Turn 7 and Turn 8.

Sahlman heard the whistle. He looked up to the top of the large tree, and then at the townsman. Muttering, he quickly removed his kheffiya and desert robe, and stuffed them into his shoulder bag. His appearance would still be notable, but definitely not so much as it had been.

Chapter 6plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigChapter 6: Balban's Reward (Rewrite of turns 8, 9 and 10)

This is a rewrite of Turn 8, Turn 9 and Turn 10. I have taken many more liberties with events and dialogue in these rewrites than in the turns, where I never modify dialogue except to correct typos.

The morning offered a pitiful view of Grenzig. The doors to public buildings swung free in the wind, some hanging by a single hinge or laying on the ground. Shutters had been smashed, and scattered shards of broken glass were all that remained of once valuable

Book 2

Turn 11plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 11: In the Forest

Feeling better than he had in some time, Sahlman el'Musafir gave his borrowed steed its head. These horses, he thought to himself, are faster and far more comfortable to ride than the camels of my homeland. Following that was another thought. He now felt more concern, more passion, for this place than he did for the place of his birth. That idea rolled back and forth for a bit inside of Sahl's head. In a moment or two, he decided that, while perhaps that fact should bother him, it did not. His h…

Turn 12plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 12: Brininig

“Strange creature,” Kay whispered after the Brining scurried up the tree, “and an even stranger pet.”

Sahlman was amazed at the revelation of the Brinninig. In his desert home, one might find the occasional Dwarf, but the desert variety of Dwarf resembled nothing so much as a short, weather-beaten human. This Brinninig, though: why, there was no resemblance at all between it and a man. And the way it paid him not the slightest bit of attention, even though Sahl must have made enough racket to w…

Turn 13plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 13: An Attempt to Continue

All three adventurers and the townsman's servant were left shocked on the ground. Their clothes were torn in places, and the women's hair was in disarray and full of leaves.

Ardith shook herself off and muttered, “Well, that was interesting. Wonder what that windy voice was all about.

Turn 14plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 14: A Fight with Wolves

Ardith came awake slowly, and smiled when she saw that it was Sahlman's hand on her arm. When he pointed out the wolf-pack, Ardith remembered her dream. She wondered whether she could hide the horses and the members of the party, but decided that it would probably frighten the horses too much.

Turn 15plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 15: Ziedon's Adventure: Through the Fire

This first part was originally posted as “turn 10 supplement” on 11/21/1996.

Ziedon made his way from Grenzig, following the details of the map closely. He walked for days, until he finally came to a small hill. 'How could this be Rakbaven?' Ziedon thought. He checked and rechecked the map. He had seen all the landmarks encapsulated within that sloppy double circle on the map, so this hill, barely thirty feet high, had to be Rakbaven.

Turn 16plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 16: Ziedon's Adventure: Animal Moss

Ziedon opened his eyes and tried to remember why they were shut. 'Everything is white - no, yellow. Now it's green. Yes, green, but blurry. It's becoming clearer. There; something moved. Something big. No, it's gone. It's hot; oh, so hot. Yes, I was just in a fire. But I couldn't feel anything.' He tried to move his arm. 'It hurts, but I can move it.' He felt around. 'Wet. Very wet. Is it raining? No, I'm not outside; I'm in a tunnel. Oh, my head hurts!' He felt his leg: bare skin. Part of his c…

Turn 17plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 17: Ziedon's Adventure: The Maze of Foors

Ziedon continued quickly through the tunnel. None of the other creatures followed him; they kept running about doing whatever they were doing before.

It was only a few minutes before he came to a fork in the tunnel. The left fork went down, and the right headed up. The two were identical in all other respects.

Turn 18plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 18: Ziedon's Adventure: A New Master

The man tossed the stone into the air a few times, and then spoke in a deep voice. “I am the master to whom my two servants guided you. I have been searching the world for those worthy of my guidance, and you alone have passed my tests. You are foolishly brave at times, but you know how to recognize and solve a puzzle you are given. I commend you.

Turn 19plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 19: Ziedon's Adventure: Talking Cats

Ziedon left through the door of the tower, and watched, without much surprise, as the tower collapsed into itself until it was once again a small hill. He made sure the orb his master gave him was secure in its well-padded belt pouch, and began to follow the map.

Turn 20plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 20: A Storm Will Lead the Way

The tale of Ziedon's adventures held Sahlman's full attention. The desert dweller listened in awe to the recounting, his craggy face fully expressing his astonishment at many of the story's details. His mind fairly boggled at the idea of spending so much time under the ground, closed in, surrounded and trapped. 'Agh, this

Turn 21plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 21: Maelbourg

Ziedon looked at the group and their sad state of appearance and made a suggestion. “Perhaps we should find lodgings and cleanse ourselves. Ulan can wait until we are presentable.” Leaning heavily on his staff, he looked around for someone he could ask a question of. The appearance of the group prevented most people from coming near them, but eventually,

Turn 22plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 22: Nothing Gained

Before going to sleep, Ardith invited Kay to join her in prayer to Andritha. The two women prayed together in their room for a few minutes, and then made up their cots with blankets and went to sleep.

In the morning, they came down to the common room and had some bread, cheese, and a hot, sweet drink the bartender offered them that smelled faintly of alcohol.

Turn 23plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 23: The Minstrel's Song

Kay listened, enraptured, to the man's singing and playing. It reminded her of the songs of her homeland. She found the man attractive, and wished she could get his attention. Kay's heart went to her throat as the minstrel sat next to her. His presence, even his clean, male odor went to her head.

Turn 24plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 24: The Lost Scroll

Sahlman was furious to the point of distraction over losing the fight, over his soiled garments, and over allowing his weapons to be lost, even temporarily. If that had happened in the desert, he would have been dead. He could not quite comprehend why he was still alive, nor why his plans failed so dreadfully. He was unable to sit and listen to

Turn 25plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 25: Ziedon, the Necromancer

Sahlman was bone weary, winded, beaten and filthy. His attitude was eroded to a dangerous level by the events of the evening. When the strange, shadowy man with his feathers and beads materialized to bring down the fleeing thief, the traveller was nearly unable to remain standing. He wished for nothing so much as to be able to fall to the cobblestones and lie there forever. By main force of will, the desert man did not do so. As he would have done while defending his oasis against marauding raid…

Turn 26plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 26: Kreemon the Ranger

Ardith smiled and turned to the newcomer. “Hail and well met, stranger. I am Ardith, Priestess of Andritha. Thank you for your assistance. How may we thank you?”

The man nodded his head at Ardith, and pulled at his goatee distractedly. “Good morrow to you, priestess. I go by Kreemon Fangly. As for thanks, I would much appreciate word of where I might find employment.

Turn 27plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 27: Korisca the Thief

Sahlman slept the sleep of the dead, and awoke in midst of some vague nightmare hours before dawn. Unable to return to his slumber, he forced himself out of bed, and headed for the bath houses. A good scrubbing of himself and his clothing was just what the he needed. Some time later, a clean

Turn 28plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 28: Townsman Ulan

Korisca stood up and looked at Kreemon. “I suppose I should go take this ... bath, and get new clothes, but I don't know where such places are.”

“Well, I know where the bath house is and can escort you there if you wish. As for clothes ... the market place probably would the best bet. You might even find someone with a cart of second hand clothing you could sort through to see if anything would fit you. I've found a few good bargains doing that. You do have to be careful though. They, the cloth…

Turn 29plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 29: The Message

Kreemon left Korisca at the bathhouse and took a short walk back to the marketplace. The market was not crowded, but it was not empty either. There were many people about, entering and leaving shops, examining the few booths that lined the main road, or just standing and talking to friends. A group of children was playing a game Kreemon did not recognize. Every time a horseman, those few that there were, came by, the children grabbed a few dozen trinkets from the road and ran to the side.

Turn 30plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 30: Questionable Gains

Sahlman stood staring at the townhouse. His mind raced from one to another of the topics currently facing himself and the other members of the small band. Balban's trustworthiness, or lack thereof, was one concern. The day to day matters of survival were another.

Turn 31plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 31: The Last Night in Maelbourg

Ziedon spoke up again, eagerly changing the conversation. “We need to leave immediately.”

“I agree, Sir Mage,” Ardith said. “I do not like the feel of this town, nor of the townsman we have met. Let us provision ourselves from the innkeeper, and be on our way.

Turn 32plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 32: Departure

Ziedon was woken by Sahlman a few hours before dawn. As Sahl arranged himself comfortably on his blanket to sleep through the last watch, Ziedon quietly claimed a corner of the room and sat down.

Ziedon watched over everyone in silence, his eyes frequently returning to the still form of the thief. 'How easy it would be,' he thought, but each time he lowered his hands to boost himself off the floor, he shook his head. 'No, it is too soon.'

Turn 33plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 33: Another Approach

'Not good. No, not good at all,' thought Sahlman as he scrambled for readiness. For a split second, visions flashed before Sahl's eyes: cloaked raiders materializing out of the frigid darkness to tear through a peaceful bedouin camp, black blood bubbling pink and frothy in the wake of his scimitar, screams and wails of despair from the friends and relatives, from the wives and children, of those not strong enough to hold on to that most precious of treasures

Turn 34plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 34: The Townsman's Dilemma

The only emotion Sahlman could solidly identify at that moment was confusion. Perhaps if he had been paying more attention to Ulan, instead of checking all around for Forgolon Deepthroat, he might have been able to better assay what was going on. As it was, nothing was as it seemed, or nothing seemed as it was, one of the two. Either way, Sahl was left shaking his head. He had to look around at the groveling Ulan, just to make doubly certain that it was he, indeed, who was doing the begging. It …

Turn 35plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 35: A Partial Resolution

'Good,' Ardith thought as Ulan signalled his men. She had no desire for an armed conflict, or any other type for that matter.

Ardith's plan was to use Ulan's plight to gain information -- information she desperately wished to have -- about Balban and his motives, how Ulan became Balban's agent in

Turn 36plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 36: New Arrivals

Thrilled as he was by the feel of the magnificent mount beneath him, Sahl's lingering apprehension was instantly reborn as full-blown paranoia. Five more soldiers, plus one on either flank. The warrior transferred the reins to his left hand, then backed his mount a couple of shuffling steps. His eyes kept constant track of the seven men around him. The horse must have sensed his tension, because it was fidgeting and trembling just a bit.

Turn 37plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 37: Ziedon's Day

Listening to the rest of the conversation, Kay giggled at the talkative soldier, then stepped forward as though to speak.

Ardith touched her arm and whispered, “Let's stay out of this for the moment. Ziedon is doing quite well without help. He's getting more information than we have gotten for days. And remember, men in these parts find it strange enough for women to be armed, never mind that they take part in _their_ conversation.

Book 3

Turn 38plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 38: Dunweig

Korisca appeared from behind a large tree, but remained as unnoticeable as possible. She had trouble comprehending the recent events. A few days before, she was an unrecognized lowlife in Maelbourg, and this day she had dealt with a townsman. Then, her primary enemy, who could deal out the ancient powers like a deck full of aces, left with little explanation. She had no idea what was going on, but with

Turn 39plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 39: Ranes's

“Tolls for bridges, tolls to enter the town, what'll be next, a toll to use the facilities?” Kreemon muttered.

“Animals are permitted on the main roads only. We try to keep the town clean,” the guard said as they passed the gateway.

Each lantern in the town shone as a streaked globe through the fog, barely providing enough light to walk by. The first hazy building they saw gave itself away as an inn by its height and shape, and the amount of light emanating from a particular room.

Turn 40plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 40: The Healer

Ardith pushed open the doors, followed a narrow hallway, pushed open another set of doors, and entered into the sanctuary, which was, at the moment, empty. It seemed that most of the building was sanctuary. Its ceiling was as high as the rooftop, and narrow windows began ten feet above the floor, and extended twenty more toward the heavens. Spaced out on the walls was a series of once-gilt Signs of the Healer, in addition to smaller symbols of

Turn 41plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 41: A Week in Dunweig

The white and red cloth slipped out of the healer's aged hand, and fell to the floor. The healer's eyes widened ever so slightly, before they resumed their normal shape. “Clumsy old fingers,” he said. “Clean that up.” One of the apprentices, his eyes still on the man's leg, peeled the cloth off the floor, and with it wiped up as much of the red cream as he could.

Turn 42plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 42: The Butcher Moren

Kreemon bent down and touched the butcher's cheek with the back of his hand. Moren radiated an almost unnatural cold, as if he had just come in from bad snowstorm. He was most definitely dead.

“Who can tell me what happened here?” Kreemon asked of the crowd. No one volunteered an answer.

Turn 43plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 43: Master Johannes Eltermann

The inn was filling up with fishermen, who spoke mainly of their extraordinary catches that day. Moren's name flowed around the room as well, as each table of eavesdroppers passed it on to the next.

“Priestess!” Ardith was startled to find Ranes several steps in front of her, looking up at her face with a nervous smile as he walked.

Turn 44plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 44: The Investigation Begins

“Ardith.”

A voice.

“Come here.”

Ardith looked for the source of the voice, and saw nothing. She looked for anything at all, and saw nothing. She looked for darkness, and could not find even that. Ardith screamed and woke up.

The butcher's skin had taken on a color normal for a corpse by the time it was moved to the watching room for the night. By morning, the watching apprentice had nothing to say about it. As was the tradition in

Turn 45plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 45: The Temple of the Orithory

Ranes' was filling with lunchtime customers, who still spoke quite a bit about the butcher, although not near as much as the day before.

“Something strange is going on at the Temple,” said the deep, throaty voice voice a man behind a wooden pillar.

Turn 46plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 46: A Scene of Death

Kreemon broke through the crowd, drawing his sword again as he rushed the door. He slowed enough to try the doorknob, but nevertheless crashed into the door with the momentum of his run, causing it to squeak and crack. The door was locked, but gave easily at a second rush.

Turn 47plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 47: Johannes' Breakdown

Around Ardith's hand, the bruises subsided, until there were only a few blue lines winding through otherwise healthy-looking skin. The man took one wheezing, shuddering breath, and let it out slowly. His chest hardened as the splinters of bone fused together. His eyes flickered open but then closed tight, and his breathing was once again a slow, trickling wind.

Turn 48plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 48: The Healer and the Temple

Four men entered Rosteral's house, apparently having been asked inside. Ardith, just ready to leave, sat back down and signaled the serving wench for a refill of all their drinks. “Let's just stay and watch a while,” she murmured.

Kay grinned, halfway out of her chair, and said,

Turn 49plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 49: A Dark Man, a Shadow

“No, not there! Please, slow down! I don't care what freedoms you've had elsewhere; you can not behave this way in a temple of Andritha! And I already told you, that animal must be sent back up to wait outside! Wait!”

Kreemon stopped suddenly, and glared at the priest.

Turn 50plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 50: A Night to be Forgotten

This time the priest led them in his own fashion, quietly and slowly. There was no attempt by Kreemon or Johannes to rush past him and hurry things up. When they got outside, Ardith was more surprised than the others to see how much time had passed. The sun was already half concealed by the western wall of

Turn 51plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 51: An Eventful Departure

Unusual for her, as Ardith was one of those who woke up ready for anything, she sleepily went through her morning ablutions, woke up Kay, said her morning prayers, then, checking to see if Kay was actually up, thought about their mission and getting on with it. They'd been in this town long enough, she thought.

Turn 52plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 52: Korisca's Story

Ardith was overcome with dismay that the events in the guardhouse had led to bloodshed, but they had happened so fast that there had been nothing she could do. Not that she was unaccustomed to or abhorrent of bloodshed, but that it had seemed so unnecessary. She also wondered why both

Turn 53plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 53: Johannes's Vision (Johannes only)

DM's Introduction

Johannes woke early on the chilly morning of the eleventh of Farinon. He hugged his arms to his breast, trying to rid himself of a lingering chill. Something didn't feel right, so he lifted his hands and looked them over. They were dirty and scarred, but narrow and light. They were a woman's hands. He took those strange hands and felt up and down his body, but somehow was not shocked at what he found. He was

Turn 54plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 54: Osander River Village

Johannes shook his head slightly, trying to calm his mind, struggling to sort out that which he heard from the strange vision he had seen. “So this former companion of yours was performing odd experiments on sheep... the fact that he caused the bones of that sheep to bend

Turn 55plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 55: The magic of Osander River Village

Johannes saw the light flicker, and a crash of thunder miles away, but otherwise he was unaware of Ardith's attempts to wake him; the farmer was in the way. His wife and seven children, ranging in age from two to around fifteen, stood inside, staring in much the same way the farmer had.

Turn 56plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 56: Discovery by Night (Johannes only)

Johannes felt a tap on his shoulder. It was dark, and the floor he was lying on was cold. Another vision? No, Lutont was bending low over him, close enough that he could see the man's face in the dim light of the dying fire. Lutont gestured to the door, and put his fingers to his lips. The others were still sleeping.

Turn 57plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 57: Rielicca's Accusations

It was still dark when the group, one by one, woke to the sound of muffled conversations outside. Lutont and Johannes were already sitting by the door, eating some kind of hot wheat mush, when Kreemon got up. “They're waiting for all of you to come out,”

Turn 58plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 58: The Journey to Huerten

As soon as their escort turned back to Osander River Village, the party mounted their horses and rode on toward Huerten. The sky was clear and bright, what was visible through the trees, and well before noon, the snow melted. The air was still cold though, and smelled of a winter that was more than a month off.

Turn 59plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 59: Kreemon and the Second Clerk (Kreemon only)

Kreemon headed for the Baron's keep, making a few subtle inquiries along the way about the patrols outside the city. He asked several people, but soon realized that neither the patrols nor the group they sought were common knowledge. That pursuit at an end, he began to formulate a plan for how he would deal with the message.

Turn 60plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 60: Tracking Kreemon (Ardith, Kay, Sahlman and Johannes only)

As the inn's door swung behind Kreemon and Bork, Ardith said, “I like this not. Kreemon was all too eager to take the scroll, and to confront the baron. Not that I have any reason to suspect foul play by Kreemon, quite the opposite, but... well, something stinks here.

Turn 61plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 61: Inside the Walls

Kay saw that Bork had seen her, and probably Kreemon also. She did not know what to make of the tableau she had witnessed, so she hastily, but still as quietly as possible, retreated back to where Ardith waited.

She reported to her friend in hasty whispers.

Turn 62plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 62: Below the Castle

Kreemon kept his hand on the slippery wall, and followed it wherever it led. After only a few feet, he hit his head against stone and learned that the passage became only four feet high. When the grate began to slide open, Kreemon signaled the others to duck into the passage and hurried on.

Turn 63plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 63: The Swim to Shore

“Move to the sides,” Kreemon whispered. “Keep going forward.” He stopped briefly to check the water level before following his own advice. The water was getting deeper. In the center, it now reached up to the base of Kreemon's middle finger, when before it was only two knuckles deep. Either the water was rising, or the passage was sloping downward. Another minute of running and the water was ankle-deep, even on the edges, and at least a food deep in the middle.

Turn 64plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 64: Sahlman's Adventure: Ulan's Soldiers

The first three paragraphs were originally posted as “Turn 37 Supplement,” on 8/31/98.

“HA!” Sahlman let out with a loud cry to his restless steed, leading the other three men back toward Maelbourg. At the next possible chance, Sahl would cut back on a different road toward Grenzig. He didn't know what

Turn 65plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 65: Sahlman's Adventure: The Brininig

In moments, Sahl's darting glance had traversed the three hundred sixty degrees of terrain that surrounded him, hoping against hope that he would catch a glimpse of the second soldier, hoping that he would not discover the man just preparing to slide a blade through the weathered brown skin of his torso. As he performed this automatic function of viewing his environment, Sahl spoke,

Turn 66plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 66: Sahlman's Adventure: A Farmer's Trap

Sahlman rose before dawn, more than ready to get moving. Snow had stopped accumulating shortly after dusk, so there was only half an inch on the ground, not even enough to scrape up for drinking water.

Sahl was on his way within fifteen minutes, eager to move again. All three horses had survived the night, but they had to be walked for hours before their legs had fully thawed. The morning remained cold, but the snow was melting by noon, and it became much easier to travel despite the dampness …

Turn 67plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 67: Sahlman's Adventure: The state of Maelbourg

Half a mile from the perimeter of Maelbourg, Sahlman turned to Forgolon. “This is dangerous work. We must talk now. I tell you, what I want is for my friends to be free and not work for bad men. This is all I want. You tell me now. Who is lord of Maelbourg now? Who put my friends in jail? Why they in jail? What you want from me?

Turn 68plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 68: Sahlman's Adventure: A Clumsy Stalker

A few miles from Maelbourg, Sahlman slowed down to a quick walk. As soon as he did so, he thought he heard a second set of distant hoof beats behind him, but then they died down until all he could hear was the forest sounds, and Zephyr's hooves on pine needles and newly fallen autumn leaves.

Turn 69plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 69: Sahlman's Adventure: The Murderer of Dunweig

Before dawn, the pair packed up, ate a brief breakfast and were on their way. The sky was clear and the weather was warming up, and a pleasant breeze blew between the trees. Shortly after noon, Sahlman spotted the Black Lake in the distance. Hebabelt explained that its name came from its dark sands and thick under-water growth, and that it was known to catch foreigners and even the occasional local by surprise in the night. More than one person had fallen into the water before noticing it was th…

Turn 70plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 70: Sahlman's Adventure: Kgeih

Sahlman spent the night at the inn. When dawn came and Hebabelt didn't, he left a note with Ranes, saying that he would be following Ardith to Huerten. He rode off at first light.

The guards at the gate were not nearly so friendly as they'd been on the way in. They questioned Sahl for over an hour, asking about his current destination and his previous travels, making him account for each of his weapons and every item in his saddle bags, and they even sent a runner to Ranes' to verify that Sahl…

Turn 71plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 71: Sahlman's Adventure: Searching for Ardith

The knights didn't give Sahlman much time to sleep. They woke him well before dawn with, “there's no time to waste!” and pushed their horses hard through the morning. In the following hours, they passed three more patrols, and only a few other travelers, who avoided the knights. It seemed that every town Sahl visited lately had undergone some recent change that made it act differently towards visitors. Dmerzig and Grenzig had been conquered,

Turn 72plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 72: The Return of Sahlman

When Sahl woke, the door was closed. He had a headache, and he thought he felt a trickle of blood coming from somewhere on his head. Ardith was kneeling over him. Her words faded into his consciousness. “I'm so sorry, Sahl. I didn't know who you were until it was too late.

Turn 73plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 73: The Zahiran (Kreemon only)

Kreemon dragged himself to shore a couple hundred feet from Ardith and Kay, away from the docks and any ships, and lay panting on the sand. He relaxed for only a few minutes to catch his breath, and then slowly and unsteadily rose to his feet. Despite the intense chill it sent up and down his spine, he put on his wet shirt and then headed into town, towards the house that he'd found earlier, with the special symbol.

Turn 74plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 74: Kreemon and Sahlman

Sahl reacted urgently to Kreemon's voice. Rolling to his feet, he called out, “Please let him in Brunner! I need to talk to this man.” He hastily walked to the door. “Hello Kreemon, I have been hearing bad things about you.” Kreemon had changed his appearance much as Sahl had changed his, though Kreemon no doubt had done it for more desperate reasons. His goatee was gone, and his hair now hung loose. His clothes were changed, and he wore a long hooded cloak. Without the facial hair, the prominen…

Turn 75plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 75: Johannes's Adventure: The Destruction of a Mob

Johannes trudged away from the others, shaking his head slowly and muttering. “That Kreemon is a madman. I don't know why his companions tolerate him.” He emitted a long sigh, and made his way over the crest of the hill, towards Mindolpha's hovel.

The rising sun added nothing to the hovel that it didn't quickly take away. Even the walls were in poor repair, and it seemed like masses of caulk and tar used in haphazard repairs were all that held them together. The half of the roof that had not c…

Turn 76plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 76: Johannes's Adventure: Attacked in the Forest

Johannes's watch was punctuated by brief flashes that he had difficulty understanding. A woman appeared and disappeared. Then an older woman. Then he was the older woman. Then he saw a boy, then a rabbit, and then a tree. A large man pulling a small plow. Two men fighting on a sandy beach that sparkled with ice crystals. The silhouette of a huge bird flying across a full-moon

Turn 77plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 77: Johannes's Adventure: A Burning Cat

Johannes woke to the light of the sun and the sound of Mineasia's playful voice. She was not at all surprised to find Johannes in a bedroll with her mother, and seemed to have completely forgotten the frightening experiences of the previous night. “Can I ride Roomis again?

Turn 78plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 78: Johannes's Adventure: Escaping to Brundash

“There's a tunnel! A tunnel underneath the town. And they were teaching sorcerers under there... and... the experiments... how long ago?” He clutched at his head, paralyzed by blinding pain. “It hurts! Oh, by my god, it hurts!” He struggled to pull himself upright, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

Turn 79plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 79: Johannes's Adventure: Return Home

Johannes blinked slowly, adjusting to the sudden change to where he was -- or where he thought he was. “What happened?” He spoke slowly. “I don't remember anything of what happened...”

“Master Steiner -- Karl -- found you in a village in northern Huerten. You were delirious the whole way, even though Karl hired what passes for medicine in those parts along the way. That was months ago, and then when you got here, you were

Turn 80plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 80: Johannes's Adventure: A New Vision

Rebekah was waiting for Johannes when he came home, and she had a worried look on her face. “You're back so early. Did everything go okay with the Coordinator?”

Johannes sighed, sinking into a chair in the sitting room. “I am not sure I can even trust my own mind any more. I don't know what is happening to me

Turn 81plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 81: Johannes's Adventure: Uyithlyaw

“Uyithlyaw?... So I have arrived...” Johannes sat up, blinking, attempting to take in his surroundings and orient himself. “I was wandering in dreams. I had thought I had returned to Duerstadt...” He shook his head. “What has been happening to me? Have I been going mad?

Turn 82plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 82: Johannes's Adventure: The Knights of Huerten

Mindolpha led the way back to the Maelbourg-Huerten road. Based on the angle they took, Johannes realized that Uyithlyaw's home was in Marchhanbar, a politically insignificant barony surrounded on three sides by the barony of Huerten. They continued through the woods for the rest of the day, cutting in at a sharp angle relative to the road, and made camp when it started to get dark.

Turn 83plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 83: Johannes and Sahlman

Additional text was added on 7/17/05

Sahl returned to Sir F's to sleep. He thought he heard muted footsteps behind him, but when he turned around to look, no one was there. When he arrived, the door was locked. He knocked a few times, and heard the innkeeper say,

Turn 84plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 84: Waiting for the Trial

The next day went without a hitch. Johannes escorted Ardith from Felender's house to the Office of the Corporal of the Central North District, while Sahlman followed at a distance in case there was any trouble. From there, the corporal himself brought Ardith and Johannes to the Offices of the Captain of the Guard, a few hundred feet from the castle gates, and from there they were taken to see the Second Clerk.

Turn 85plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 85: The Zioth Expert

Every morning, Redbelve passed the time with Sahl while he was training his horse. After a few hours of training on the twenty-fifth, he mentioned that Sahl could meet the Zioth-expert that evening. Evening came, and Redbelve took Sahlman and Johannes to see his friend. The scholar lived alone in one of the poorer neighborhoods, the entranceway to his small home serving as a workplace for himself and two other scriveners. Various religious texts, not all of them

Turn 86plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 86: Preparing for the Winter Fair

On the twenty-seventh, Sahl went out alone to train Zephyr. Mindolpha had been more trouble than usual during the night, and Johannes was sleeping late. As usual, Redbelve stopped by to give him a few pointers. In the afternoon, Sahl took a stroll around the city, working through his plans for preparing for the Zioth. Late in the afternoon, he found himself near a small cemetery which looked like it had been filled up a long time ago. There weren't a lot of people around

Book 4

Turn 87plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 87: The Winter Fair and Festival

Sahlman, Kay and Johannes had all grown up in large cities, but the Huerten Winter Fair and Festival was no less impressive for it. The castle was the gloriously decorated centerpiece, with banners, flags, and trumpeters playing fanfare on the hour for no reason other than to impress. Knights, dressed in their clumsy formal armor, engaged in mock jousts before cheering crowds. Normally, the castle was surrounded by large open areas. These areas now served as the core of the Fair, and were anythi…

Turn 88plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 88: Uyithlyaw's Prophecy

The heavy heat of the morning became more oppressive as the day wore on, then it slacked off, and by evening was replaced by a thickening fog. The Winter Fair and Festival went on. As stands and shops closed, people and their money moved inside, where all manner of entertainment could be found. Sir Jerenil's First Knight and the baron's Trader's Lodge, of course, had the best, and both had hired people to act like patrons of the competitor and then shout out things like,

Turn 89plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 89: Dealing with Disaster

Things were far from easy for Johannes and the others in Sir Jerenil's. Merely taking orders and organizing the barmaids in such a crowded inn were almost overwhelming tasks. Add in tending to the injured, resolving disputes about chairs, tables and rooms and dissipating fights, and the three of them, even with

Turn 90plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 90: The Rift

The rising sun illuminated a new Huerten. Fog burned away to reveal destruction unimagined the night before. What had been gaudily decorated streets were now piles of rubble, where not one house in two still stood. What had been packed fairgrounds were now a chaos of wood and canvas.

Turn 91plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 91: The Creatures of the Rift

Sahlman felt a sharp tug on the rope. From the darkness where Daluar had vanished from sight came a muffled gasp and the 'shing' of a rapier being drawn. Then the rope went slack, followed by an unpleasant thump. For an instant, Sahlman feared the worst, but the hurried shuffling noises and twitching of the rope indicated that

Turn 92plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 92: Meeting the Baron

It was well into the afternoon when the dragged themselves over the lip of the rim and into the light. Most of the villagers had gone, but the dozen or so who remained watched the explorers with awe. That was hardly surprising. Besides the weapons, which by themselves would keep most people at bay, everyone but

Turn 93plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 93: The Zioth Institute

Sahl thanked the guards after reading the baron's note and signing for the money. He then turned to the party. “In a sense, this belongs to us all -- that's Kay, Ardith, myself and Daluar, for services we have performed during the quake and in exploring the rift. But more than that, the Baron expects us to use it to fund our explorations of the Zioth. I assume that all of us want to do this?

Turn 94plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 94: The Battle of the Rift

The soldiers of Huerten didn't doubt the sh'kurdaru now. Suddenly, they were all cooperative, all polite, and, despite years of training in organized teams, they were desperate for leadership from someone who understood this strange threat.

With the torches blown out, and bonfires billowing up clouds of smoke, this was more than the soldiers and

Turn 95plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 95: New Blood

The night dragged on and on. It was dawn before Daluar and the soldiers were coming to the end of their task. More tired than they'd ever been before, they carried net after net full of Sh'kurdaru heads to the Rift. The entire force of Huerten, save the knights, some of whom were just now arriving to see what was left, was in a state of utter exhaustion.

Turn 96plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 96: The Captain of the Guard

“Salangin -- is that how you pronounce it?” Jereld, captain of the Baron's Guard, stopped Daluar just as he was leaving through the path of rubble that had once been the courtyard gate. His pronunciation was wrong, but he didn't give Daluar a chance to correct him.

Turn 97plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 97: Into the Depths

The next two days were taken up with preparations. Sahl discussed the requirements for the crossbows with the castle weaponsmith. Then he went to a potter in town and demanded a batch of ceramic bolts in the Baron's name. The bolts would be filled with and sealed against disteloitte. They would be cylindrical, balanced in the center, around once inch thick by four inches long, and have fins at the end to stabilize them. When the bolts were ready,

Turn 98plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 98: The People of the Rift

“This is not what I signed up for,” said Oloic.

“Yes it is,” Nerror, the other soldier, replied. “Shut up.”

Both soldiers, along with the mountaineers Teulen and Ker, and the original party of Sahlman, Daluar, Ardith and Kay, looked out at the expanse of

Turn 99plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 99: The High Baraderres

Ardith had had little luck. The creatures were willing to accept her, but as far as communication went, she was starting to think them incapable. They could point and gesture, but they quickly tired of the game and wandered off to eat, drink, sleep or mate. Sometimes, they seemed more like herd animals that humans. Their aversion to the sealed entrance just reinforced the idea.

Turn 100plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 100: A Disappointing Conclusion (The game fell apart at this point, so this story line has come to an end. Read on for Ziedon's adventure!)

Teulen, Ker and Daluar spent the next couple hours scouting the halls for sh'kurdaru. What they found was promising in some ways, at least. Adult sh'kurdaru came through this area only rarely, perhaps once in half an hour at most. The downside was that they weren't part of a regular patrol, so their comings and goings would be unpredictable. If they moved quickly and quietly, they could get from the low baraderres' area to the shaft leading up to the high baraderres in about fifteen minutes. Doi…

Book 5

Turn 101plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 101: A Mission from Rakbaven

This first part was originally posted as Turn 37z, on 8/31/98

Ziedon, days before, had made sure to memorize useful parts of Ardith's map. When he was sufficiently distant from his party, he placed his own two unremarkable maps on the ground, and placed an “

Turn 102plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 102: Settling in Dunweig

Gathering himself, Ziedon headed south, glad to be out of the tower and away from his impossible Master. He thought of the creatures he had met the last time he left the tower, and kept his eyes wary of them, but throughout the journey, they did not appear.

Turn 103plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 103: The Butcher Moren

The butcher opened his eyes wide, as if realizing his own mortality for the first time, and then looked down at the ground, accepting it. “Yes, I am Moren.”

Ziedon clapped his hands in glee. “Wonderful. I bring a message for you.” He spent a long minute reciting the magical words written as with chalk in his mind. Once

Turn 104plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 104: Sheep

“So, how'd it go with the apothecary?” Dalast put his food on Ziedon's table, and pulled up a chair. Ziedon frowned. “I never made it there. I realized that I must have looked a fright with my unkept beard and hair so I sought the services of a barber. Afterwards, I was still tired from my journey, so I returned for some lunch and a nap. I do feel quite refreshed. Mayhaps I will make it there on the morrow. I intend to enjoy myself this eve, seeing what this fine town has to offer me.

Turn 105plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 105: Moren's Book

Ziedon left the sheep behind him to persue the intruder. He chanted the spell again as he ran, targeting the interloper's heart, but by the time he finished his incantation, the person was too far for it to take its proper effect. She did feel something, because

Turn 106plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 106: Rosteral

The bathouses were not on the main crossroads of the town, but they were still easy to find. They were as close to the lake as they could be without too much threat from storm, and a portion of the town's wall rose up around that part of the lake to deter flood waters. The bathhouses were no more than half a mile's distance from the butcher, and an eighth from the inn

Turn 107plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 107: Creating Rumors

Ziedon moved behind the bathhouse and then, taking extreme care not to be seen, continued to the next building. Pausing there, Ziedon cut the hem of his robe and bandaged his wound. He cut more slices of cloth from the robe, soaked them in water from his waterskin, and used them to clean himself up.

Turn 108plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 108: The Seven Question Dream

Ziedon woke to sunlight on his face. He had slept a long time. Stretching and blinking his eyes, Ziedon thought, “That is what I needed. Ah..” As he swung his feet onto the floor, a sharp, reverberating pain reminded him that his wound would be a long time healing. Fortunately, it was not infected yet, and the edges were beginning to crust over, but the bandage was still damp with blood.

Turn 109plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 109: The Other Galpen

In the morning, Ziedon prepared his spells, then took out Moren's book, and looked at it reflectively as he thought about his dream. Ziedon was not normally one to remember his dreams, and now he'd had one two nights in a row. The previous night, someone had been questioning him. Obviously there was something deeper going on underneath the currents than was immediately visible.

Turn 110plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 110: Preparing an Assassination

Ziedon pledged the next couple of days to prepare for his assassination of Bure. He immediately took Galpen up on his offer, and followed him to the house and shop of an upper-class tailor. With Galpen by his side, Ziedon was able to acquire a suit of clothing that would make some of the lesser townsmen jealous, for under half its value. It still cost him fifteen gold attles, which ate a good bit into the money that Galpen had offered.

Turn 111plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 111: Caught

The next morning, Ziedon realized things would not be as easy as he'd thought. As well as any satirist could have predicted, the town guard patrolled the streets in force, now that a wealthy merchant had been murdered in his own shop. News of Weg's messenger paled in comparison, to the point where

Turn 112plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 112: Hebabelt Forester

His horse was untouched and had been treated well, and the new saddle was still leaning against the wall. Ziedon mounted, and rode until he just out of sight of the west gate, then dismounted. Wearing his old robes and equipped with his staff, Ziedon led his horse towards the gate.

Turn 113plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 113: Dragged into Maelbourg

Ziedon made his journey a casual one. He did not want to arrive in Maelbourg saddle sore, tired and dirty, or with a crippled horse. Soon after setting out, he found a moving stream and unloaded his bloody clothing. There was no need to risk being caught with that.

Turn 114plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 114: Townsman Galgewe

“So Ziedon, I see you caused Townsman Ulfendol quite a bit of trouble.” When Ziedon opened his eyes, he saw Galgewe, standing tall, hands clasped behind his back. It was a bit hard to make out his features. When Ziedon opened his eyes wider and shook out the blur of sleep, he saw the reason. He was in a jail cell, securely locked, with metal bars reaching to the ceiling, and attached at their base to a half-wall of stone.

Turn 115plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 115: Working for a Townsman

Ziedon was escorted out of the jail, to be taken to the nearby Purple Raven. His damaged clothes were brought elsewhere to be mended. Two of the three men who walked with Ziedon were common thugs, hired for strength rather than agility. They wore standard uniforms, consisting of leather armor, longsword, light crossbow and dagger, along with narrow-rimmed hats and a short black ribbon. The third man, doubtless the leader, was lighter than the others, but certainly looked like he could hold his o…

Turn 116plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 116: The State of Maelbourg

An hour or so after the tailor left, a messenger arrived with an unsigned letter from Galgewe: I will not be able to visit you myself tonight due to prior engagements, so I will answer some of your questions here. Please destroy this message when you have comitted it to memory. If you forget, its ink is designed to fade within a day or two.

You asked for descriptions of the major players in town, so here they are. The number following each name is an indication of power and influence. There a…

Turn 117plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 117: Jerrakken

Ziedon slept deeply, and did not wake until fairly late in the morning. The rest of the materials for the summoning spell and the priming of the paper were on the desk, though some of the summoning materials were not _quite_ right. The spell would probably work anyway.

Turn 118plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 118: Ulan's Allies and Balban's Enemies

Ferenz's tavern had nothing like the lush accomodations of the Purple Raven. Leaving his escort outside, Ziedon entered a dusty, low- ceilinged room much wider than it was deep. While the poorest laborers of Maelbourg couldn't afford tavern food, the men assembled for lunch today were not much better off.

Turn 119plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 119: Townsman Silnquost

Tilluri and Gelefer brought Ziedon across town to a far wealthier neighborhood. They arrived in front of a small building that Ziedon's map described as the Guild Tradehouse. Guilds used the building to arrange major trade agreements with each other and with neighboring towns, and some of the more important guild masters had private offices inside. The place was built like a fortress, with thick stone walls, heavy iron-bound doors and windows built small enough and high enough that even a practi…

Turn 120plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 120: Velirra Dufowl, a Bad Omen

As they walked to the tavern, Ziedon felt an inexplicable tinge of nervousness, as if he was being followed. He looked back frequently, but could see nothing out of the ordinary. Then, just outside the tavern, a wave of fear washed over him. He stopped, unsure whether to hide or run, and then it passed.

Turn 121plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 121: A Rap on the Shutters

Late in the night, Ziedon was woken by a rap on his shutters. Thinking it was the wind, he dozed off, but the fourth time it happened, he got up and separated them. The bird stumbled a bit and landed on the outside window sill, peering in. A moment later, there was a knock on his door.

Turn 122plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 122: Hewlard and Duddan

“You called me.”

Ziedon rolled over in his bed, ignoring the dream.

“You called me. Why?”

He was tired. How much sleep could he have gotten? Three hours? Four?

“You called me. Why?”

Ziedon opened his eyes a crack. The sun had risen only recently, and it was cold. The bird was perched on the highest shelf above the desk, staring at him with interest. It was also squawking annoyingly.

Turn 123plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 123: G is Catching On

Once the guards left his room, Ziedon bolted the door and sat in thought. Making a decision, he sent out a summons to his familiar, calling it back to him with all haste. While he waited, he took one of his pouches and padded the inside with extra cloth. He then removed the skulls from the two mouse skeletons and put them in the pouch, with more cloth between them. He hefted the pouch in its hand, tied it to his belt and walked around normally for a bit to make sure that the padding was sufficie…

Turn 124plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 124: The Public Guildhouse

He'd planned to capture Galgewe, tie him up, take that pesky amulet away and enchant him so many times he'd forget his own name if Ziedon had asked him to. It would have been nothing to take Galgewe's power from him and send him away. He might have even had a little “

Turn 125plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 125: Commanding the Guards

Townsman Silnquost didn't show up the next day, and the only news Ziedon got of the outside world was from a conversation he overheard when his guard was changed.

“So what's going on outside?”

“It's nuts out there. The priests are out.”

“What?”

Turn 126plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 126: A Demostration of Power

It was two hours before Townsman Silnquost arrived. Three guards entered with him and positioned themselves around Ziedon. These were not the same three who had pinned Ziedon before; they looked stronger, better trained, wore different uniforms and bore higher-quality arms, the type one would expect to be with a man of

Turn 127plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 127: Recconoisance

Townsman Silnquost had promised information; Ziedon was hardly surprised when it didn't come. He was a prisoner here, however the townsman had sugar-coated it. But then again, waiting around for a few days couldn't hurt, especially if he really was a hunted man outside this building. He could escape when he needed to.

Book 6

Turn 128plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 128: A Friend

Kreemon left the fisherman's house thinking about Sahlman. The warrior was loyal to the two women, and wanted to serve this city. Both facts could be dangerous. Sahl could try to clear their names and earn a reward by turning Kreemon in.... Since he left first, Kreemon moved quickly off to the alley where he'd hid before, and waited. When Sahl left, Kreemon followed him all the way back to Sir F's, where he knocked on the door.

Turn 129plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 129: Korisca's Help

Kreemon spent the next few days caring for his wounds and Bork's, exercising as best he could in the cramped quarters, and spending a lot of time in meditation with Bork and in prayer. He asked Rheideielle to purchase him some new clothing so he could change his appearance, as well as some rations and equipment for when he left town. He supplied the funds.

Turn 130plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 130: A Changing Year

As soon as Kreemon left Rheideielle's house, a sense of peace washed over him. It was good to feel the open air, even if the make-up gave it a greasy feel.

The morning snow had become a heavy heat, which by evening, had given way to a thickening fog. This was both good and bad for Kreemon's chances of getting out that night. He'd be harder to recognize through the fog, but there would be fewer people coming and going, so the guards would be more alert.

Turn 131plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 131: The Shortest Path

It was the second night since they'd left the city. Fallen trees and broken segments of road had become common sights during the past days, showing that whatever had happened was more widespread than it had seemed initially. There were even a few cracks in the ground, though nothing nearly so vast as the great rift outside of Huerten. Just half a dozen feet or so deep, most of them.

Turn 132plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 132: Springing Ziedon

Maelbourg was well known for being a musical town, but Forgolon was a level above the rest. His mandolin never played a sour note. His fingers never missed a beat. And his voice was so flawlessly controlled, filling the crowded room so expertly, that even tonedeaf

Book 7

Turn 133plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 133: The Disappearing Trick

“Ziedon,” Kreemon said, “It is us. Korisca and Kreemon.” He chuckled. “We have come to rescue you.”

“Hi, Ziedon,” Korisca said. Strangely enough, she seemed perfectly calm in the presence of the man she'd feared for weeks.

Kreemon glanced at the desk before refocusing his attention on the door.

Turn 134plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 134: Korisca's Claim to Townsmanship

In the morning, Ziedon gave Korisca some money. “I am famished,” he said. “Would you please be a dear and go get us something warm and filling to eat? You could also see if there are any rumors about last night, or any news. In the meantime, I need to review some of my notes. Please do not disturb me.

Turn 135plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 135: The Northern Gate

After Forgolon left, Ziedon called Tah'iera to him. Within moments, the strange bird landed on the window sill. “Please follow the man who just left,” Ziedon said. “Let me know where he goes.”

After Tah'iera flew off, Ziedon said, “Korisca, Kreemon. I don't know how long this transition period is going to take. I would very much like to get my necklace back from

Turn 136plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 136: Desecrating the House

In the morning, Ziedon woke up to an icy breeze -- again -- and lashed out. “Who keeps opening that damned window? I was freezing all night long.”

Kreemon stood up and stretched. “Sorry. I like the fresh air.”

“Well bloody hell. I am not going to be much use to anyone if I catch a cold, now am I? And what about

Turn 137plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 137: Digging up Galgewe

Kreemon and Korisca left a quarter of an hour after Ziedon, shovels strapped to their backs. Korisca led Kreemon through back streets, taking a different route than they had the day before, to get to the old North Gate.

Four priests were standing in clear view around the Temple of

Turn 138plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 138: The Hidden Army

The invisible mist wafted through the corridors, passing priests and parishioners without their knowledge, but it moved slowly, like a light breeze with direction and purpose.

The mist passed through corridor after corridor, then through the reading rooms, and into the great entrance hall of

Turn 139plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 139: The Transformation

Ziedon woke once again to a stiff breeze. He had fallen asleep sitting up, but now he was lying on the hard floor, his cloak wrapped tightly around him. He glared at the open window, working life back into his fingers. The sooner they could get to that boarding house, the better. Kreemon could have the room without the fireplace. Let him freeze as much as he wanted.

Turn 140plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 140: Interrogating a Spy

When the man faded back into visibility next to him, Ziedon took his belt pouch and looked inside. There were only a few coins, which made sense given the man's common appearance. There was nothing to indicate who he was or where he was from.

Ziedon tied the man's hands behind his back, tied his feet together, and gagged him with a strip of cloth from his shirt. Then he searched his body thoroughly, even to the point of looking in his shoes and under his shirt. Other than a dagger that looked …

Turn 141plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 141: The Merchant from the Eastern Kingdoms

Ziedon made it to the Silver Sign unmolested. He received a few funny looks from passers-by, and a member of the town guard followed him for a short time, but he was otherwise left alone. The tavern and boarding house was easy to find. The rusty iron Sign of

Turn 142plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 142: The Battle of the Magics

Ziedon sucked in a deep breath of air. His fingers moved nimbly in the motions of a spell as he replied in a cold tone, “For your transgressions, my wrath with shake the earth and blot out the sky! My friends will defend me against your evil!”

“Your devious tongue will only enhance your suffering,

Turn 143plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 143: The Song of Destruction

Kreemon woke up hurting all over. He lifted himself slowly, only realizing he was lying on a table top when his motion unbalanced the makeshift stretcher, twisting it out of Ziedon's sore and tired hands, and sending it crashing to the ground. Kreemon rolled a couple times on the ground before colliding with the filthy wall of the alley. Weak from his many wounds, he lifted himself carefully on the palms of his hands, and saw

Turn 144plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 144: Gathering Support

The day got worse and worse for Ziedon. The volume of the chant became louder, until at times it was almost impossible to concentrate. It would then soften, but never as much as the last time. Ziedon felt he was running out of time to deal with this problem, and given how the last fight with the priests went, he would probably need help, and a good plan. He had just decided that, when the chanting reached a crescendo more powerful than any before it.

Turn 145plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 145: Kreemon's Mob

“We'll drop you off at the boarding house and then go to Silnquost's guild house.” Kreemon chuckled, remembering how he started his current trip to Maelbourg. “I think we know how to get there.”

Kreemon and Korisca escorted Ziedon back to the boarding house, and then headed to the public guild house where

Turn 146plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 146: Confronting the Sign

While Kreemon stirred up the crowds of Maelbourg, Ziedon lay in bed, tied down, repeating over and over to himself that it was all a bluff. The music in his head, the rapid slipping away of his magical knowledge, it was just a trick. The mages from Forgolon's song were driven mad by the song and its effects, and either committed suicide or attacked the priests, which was just another form of suicide.

Turn 147plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 147: The Golden Priest

Ziedon looked down at his bound body and then up at the others. “I just had a very unique dream; I am not sure if I made things better or worse. Could you please let me up?”

While Korisca untied him, Ziedon said, “Tah'iera, I need some additional mice, or other small creatures, to replenish my supply of skulls. Could you please go find me some? If you could also please do a quick turn over the woods outside of the town walls, I'd like to get an idea of what is going on with the army that is out…

Turn 148plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 148: The Dream World

At the safe house, Ziedon unloaded his gear and then went through some stretching exercises to relieve his sore muscles. “Where is Kreemon?” he asked Korisca.

“He's out finding a place on the other side of town, in case we have to split. Ziedon, what was all that out there? I've never seen anything like it. That priest

Turn 149plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 149: Spreading Rumors

It was late morning when Ziedon came out of the dream. The sun was showing through the clouds, and the muddy streets were slowly becoming navigable again, despite the occasional drizzle. Kreemon and Korisca knew that the next day at midnight, the earth would open up outside of Huerten

Turn 150plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 150: Ziedon's Plan

It was finally the day of the earthquake. Kreemon, Korisca and Ziedon woke to a chill draft and flurries of snow outside, but they knew it would get hot later in the day. Their new boarding house wasn't nearly so well situated as the last one, being far from the walls and

Turn 151plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 151: The Earthquake, Again

“Ziedon's been gone a long time,” Korisca said, looking out the window into the ever-thickening fog. The earthquake was less than an hour away. At that moment, Tah'iera, Ziedon's demonic-looking bird, landed on the window sill. The bird looked into Korisca's eyes, then flew the couple feet and tugged on her shirt sleeve.

Turn 152plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 152: Another Use for Galgewe

The next day dawned to clear skies and a Maelbourg only slightly worse for wear. There were a few minor injuries, and one person had gotten lost in the fog and fallen into the river and drowned, but buildings, for the most part, still stood upright. The streets were a mess, but by early afternoon, most of the fallen lamp posts, broken carts and winter boarding had been picked up.

Turn 153plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 153: Vanquishing Evil

Kreemon kept his cloak wrapped around him and quickly made his way back to his room, frequently making sure he wasn't followed. He checked in with Korisca to get news of the town. Not much had happened while Kreemon was gone. People were still camped outside

Book 8

Turn 154plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 154: The Sailor from Marais

Cundee wasn't sure why he'd agreed to carry a passenger he'd known nothing about. Especially on this last big venture before the winter, when any delay could cost him dearly.

From the time he'd picked him up in Gerenois Harbor, just two hundred miles from Marais, he'd been trouble. It wasn't anything he _did_, precisely, but the crew were uneasy around him, and some of them blamed him for every little thing that went wrong. If only he _were_ responsible,

Turn 155plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 155: An Unexpected Detour

Progress up the river was slow. After an anxious day waiting for the ice to break, a day of sweltering heat sent torrents of melted snow downstream. The next day, rain fell so heavily that what little progress they'd made the day before was lost.

Turn 156plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 156: The Army and Balban

Cundee selected a barge crewman and one of his own for the shore party, and directed them to take some supplies and the closest thing to a tent and bedding as could be rigged from the barge. He also took along a few samples of the cargo. Late in the afternoon, they set off, and made camp in the dark, not too far from the army, but far enough that they wouldn't be heard if they kept their voices to a whisper.

Turn 157plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 157: The Preceptor's Day

Preceptor Halaren arrived in Maelbourg on the first day of the one thousand first year of the Zioth. The previous priest, a timid man in his thirties whose gray hair and tired look made him seem fifty or more, spent only two days training Halaren before he left town. Now that whichever higher-up he'd offended had forgiven him, he wanted to leave as quickly as possible. This left

Turn 158plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 158: The Andrithan Townsman

Before bed, Halaren had some chores. He walked from the temple to the garden nearby, his wooden bucket in hand. From it, he produced a carrot wrapped in a greasy cloth from the kitchen. He rubbed it in the soil as he prayed for the Mother to look after her children, then buried it in the ground.

Turn 159plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 159: How to get away

Kreemon wandered around for the rest of the day, sometimes as a wolfhound, other times as a man. The tension in Maelbourg had been rising for weeks, and it was finally breaking. Some people were bleary-eyed like they hadn't slept in weeks, and others were overly energetic, but almost everyone was happy. The music that was a constant background in

Turn 160plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 160: Lelen Meretal

Clouds moved rapidly overhead. After some time, Cundee, pacing up and down the length of the raft, trying to keep spirits up, saw a man approaching, in a simple tunic, muffler and cowl. The man looked to be in his late twenties, and stood wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. Had he not been covered with muffler and cowl, his skin would have appeared pale and a little blubbery, tugging his facial features downward to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appea…

Turn 161plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 161: The Barrier

Halaren lay down in bed, but couldn't sleep. He wasn't the only one; more than one resident of the temple paced back and forth through much of the night. At least the time passed quickly. It seemed like only a few hours before dawn arrived, and Halaren had to get out of bed again. He hurried through his usual morning appearances, then excused himself to sneak out of town again. He did not arrive at

Turn 162plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 162: Balban's Camp

Tah'iera returned to Ziedon to report where the journeyman had gone, and some of the conversation with the Messenger. Tah'iera also mentioned that there weren't many other birds about, and that those that remained were very confused about the barrier dome. It went all around the city, for about a mile in every direction.

Turn 163plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 163: A Difference in Viewpoint

“Journeyman Lelen,” Ziedon said. “How nice to see you again in such different garb.” Kreemon stepped around and to the side, taking up a flanking position.

The Andrithan priest shifted his weight and adjusted his clothing, an uncomfortable grin on his face, but no sign of surprise or alarm.

Turn 164plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 164: A New Friend

Kreemon wasn't too gentle as he ripped out the crossbow bolts and searched the priest and the thatched pack he'd dropped at the beginning of the fight. There was a lot of worthless junk - an old bedroll, a winter blanket, a bucket with a strange symbol carved in the bottom, some candles, a fishing net and a piece of reflective metal possibly used for shaving. There were packages of herbs that

Turn 165plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 165: Rousing the Dead

After a bit more discussion with the Preceptor, and watching him carefully apply mud from his jars to his own wounds, Ziedon heard a rhythmic tapping at the door and knew that Tah'iera was back. In a squawking language that Ziedon seemed to understand, the bird told him that there was one fresh grave in the

Turn 166plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 166: Just a Lot of Books

Sometime later, Ziedon opened his eyes to the dark interior of the Temple of Andritha. He felt well-rested, if a little stiff and disoriented. Was it morning? There was no way to tell. He picked up his spell book and turned the stiff pages one by one, looking for spells that would be useful that day. An hour or so later, he stepped out of the study, leaving the skeletons behind, and gathered everyone to the south side of the temple.

Turn 167plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 167: The Door Behind the Ribbon

“Excellent,” Ziedon said, looking down into the dark hole between the bookshelves. “Would one of you see where the stairs leads while the other keeps watch on the door? I will have a quick chat with those captive priests and then we will continue onward through this secret passage.

Turn 168plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 168: The Old Library

Kreemon walked around the edge of the disgusting pond, looking for any signs that the priest entered it. There were none. Unless Halaren was an excellent leaper, he wouldn't have been able to avoid leaving footprints in the muck. Just to be sure, Kreemon stood still for a while, watching for any ripples in the water that would suggest something larger than a frog or snake hiding in there. Again, nothing. There were a few shallow caves and quickly tapering tunnels in the chamber, but nothing larg…

Book 9

Turn 169plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 169: The Foreign Tutor

Frost hung in the air as Corbyn's breath escaped from the hood of the cloak. 'Even the weather here in Maelbourg is dour,' he thought as he wove his way around the House. But the unusual chill was not enough to stay him from his business -- he needed a new set of rooms. The widow Turen's house had been accommodating enough for a solitary lodger, but the old woman was a bit too nosy for his tastes and he suspected keenly interested in the comings and goings of her lodgers. No, a place with a bit …

Turn 170plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 170: A Job From F

The sting of being abruptly let go by Argol still stirred and burned inside Voss' heart. He was certain that he had made a good impression upon his employer. He was certain that he was worth more than at least half of Argol's retinue.... his careful, experienced study of the other men had revealed to him that most were paper soldiers

Turn 171plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 171: Playing Politics

After some minor preparations, Corbyn left for Grabble's, and Voss soon after. It was near the west gate, Weret had said, and it turned out that was all the direction they needed. Grabble's was the first inn one would come across, walking into town from the west.

Turn 172plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 172: The Mercenary's Refuge

Ramzi hoisted his end of the tied pile of planks onto his shoulder, and led the way to the townsman's house. He hadn't been told which townsman, nor did he care. In Maelbourg, the best most outsiders could hope for was manual labor. Fortunately, Ramzi had never been afraid of hard work, and no job was too menial for him. All he desired was food in his belly, a roof over his head when possible, and an escape from his violent past. After two years on the run, the weight of being a constant fugitiv…

Turn 173plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 173: Two More Pieces of the Puzzle

That evening, Ramzi was refueling the hearth in the common sitting room, when a giant of a man barged in, and demanded in a thick accent to speak with the head server. The accent seemed familiar, but Ramzi couldn't quite place it. It was certainly not from anywhere in

Turn 174plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 174: The Oddest Storm

Ramzi overslept. He didn't realize it at first, but after the large cloud passed overhead, the sun shone in brightly. The morning was half gone. He hurriedly got dressed and ran to the Stone and Fire. This time, Fennel did get upset. Doing one useful thing didn't give him the right to get all high and mighty.

Turn 175plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 175: Meeting the Preceptor

Corbyn and Ramzi arrived at the temple to find that someone had done their job for them. Broken boards swung from the sides of the door, and from the looks of it, the door had been forced open from the inside. The sound of a shovel digging through hard ground came from the garden outside the temple.

Turn 176plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 176: The Sky is Falling!

Corbyn opened the door to his barn and found a letter on the floor inside, tied to a pouch of coins. The letter read, “You've made good on the bargain, and so will I, but our meeting will have to be delayed due to weather.” It was signed, “F.”

Turn 177plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 177: Tala's Prophesy

The night draws ever closer, the Zioth is at hand, In the land completely overcome, Resigned to peace, prepared for war, An ancient plague contained.

Tala had followed the prophesy for close to half a year. It had been summer in the Seven Nations when he'd left. Now it was winter, and the strangest winter he had ever seen. First was the blizzard, then the rapid melt leaving mud everywhere. Then an earthquake, which had allowed

Turn 178plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 178: The House Guard

All the younger boys bunked together and served or studied in whatever way they were told. Like Gil, these were mostly the firstborn sons of converts to the faith. Their fathers, for a variety of reasons, had undergone the difficult conversion required to join the faithful. Those men who could not also make a meaningful donation in coin or labor, offered the promise of their firstborn sons. It was no honor to come in to

Turn 179plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 179: A Footprint in the Wall

At the sound of the approaching strangers, the guardsman yanked his hand away from the wall and spun around. Emotions flickered across his face that were hard to read. Fear maybe, or shame, but also a strange kind of dreamy wonder. All that was gone in a moment, and soon the handsome, broad-chinned visage wore the stony look of one used to standing watch. He stood perfectly straight, and his hand went to his sword, though he did not draw it.

Turn 180plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 180: The Rotted Oak

It looked like a fire had torn through the forest, yet the ground was covered in jagged chunks of ice. Halaren rested against the trunk of an oak tree whose branches, stripped off by some unknown force, were scattered on the ground around him. Many of them leaned against other similar trees, making the forest floor difficult to navigate.

Turn 181plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 181: A Dark Passage

Gil watched first in confusion, then in horror, as Voss was drawn into the tree. Finally, cursing himself for being so slow, he leaped forward, dropping his sword and grabbing the barbarian's right elbow which protruded from the wood. Bracing his feet against the outer portion of the tree, he did his best to pull the huge man free.

Turn 182plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 182: The Glass Room

“'Tis a glass goat!” the priest observed as he rounded the corner. He stopped next to Gil. “Your sigil. Your former sigil. Can you open it, sir?” Without enlightenment from Gil, Halaren looked around. The mechanism was quite beyond him, but chains were simple. They were like strong rope.

Turn 183plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 183: Averting the Signs

From the looks of it, something had long since grown and died in that room. Crumbled branches lay strewn about, and powdery dust that may once have been leaves or moss coated every surface. In the middle of the room was a solid stone desk whose edge was carved in the likeness of a snake, and beyond was an empty bookshelf.

Turn 184plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 184: A Secret is a Secret is a Secret

“Well,” the priest muttered, looking into the crowded room, “I suppose they have enough people in there.” He turned and walked the dark tiles towards the entrance portal to keep watch for the sorcerer and his unholy pets. He passed by Voss, who was intently examining his wounds.

Turn 185plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 185: Hidden Treasure

“My word!” The Preceptor cried at the sound of the glass door grinding to a halt, and grabbed his chest. He took a few breaths and looked back up, dismayed. “And I suppose we won't be able to close this door again, either. We are drawing Thand a map right to us.

Turn 186plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 186: The Song of Eternity

The blades shot out towards his neck--

--and struck the snakes. They weren't blades at all, but rather blunt blocks of shiny metal. Were they just there to tighten the collar? Gil felt the floor giving way under his knees. Instinctively, he spread out, searching for anything he could hold on to so that his neck wouldn't snap. There

Book 10

Turn 187plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 187: A Changed Maelbourg

Ziedon awoke from a dreamless sleep to a painful pecking on his chest. He opened his eyes and shut them again. His head was pounding, and his eyes felt like they were glued together. The next time he opened his eyes, he saw a blur that had to be Tah'iera. Next to him, Kreemon was sitting up with his head between his knees, trying not to vomit.

Turn 188plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 188: Finding Old Friends

Ziedon set the six items from under the House in a circle. He crushed a pearl over each one, and meditated, allowing the dust to sink in and reveal the power of the items. To Kreemon and the rest of Maelbourg, a full, exhausting day passed, but Ziedon's spell measured time perfectly. Exactly six true hours passed. By the time Kreemon cleaned and hid the bodies, found that no jeweler would open his doors, and returned, the ritual was complete. Both men were tired, but

Turn 189plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 189: Following the Paths

At any other time, Kreemon would have had an extremely difficult time disguising his activities. The wheelbarrows, the one active laundry in town not accepting customers, and above all the stench, would have been too conspicuous to ignore. As it was, though, no one wanted to investigate. There were too many more important things going on. After he'd cleaned enough bodies and wheeled their bones to his hiding place near the boarding house, Kreemon returned home. He wasn't surprised that

Turn 190plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 190: Disguised as Priest

Hours, or more likely with the altered passage of time, days later, Ziedon found Kreemon asleep in his clothes, with the open shutters letting in the chilly air. It was dark outside, some time past the middle of the night. Ziedon studied his spells by candlelight, then waited for Kreemon to wake. The moons moved across the sky. Shadows formed and slid across the floor. No more than two hours could have passed, but it was noon. It was incredibly disorienting to have the sky completely ignore

Turn 191plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 191: Followers of the Sorcerer

Kreemon opened the window and sat down in front of it. He could see the Paths, whether he wanted to or not. Where and when did they go? The paths were narrow, winding and endlessly intertwined. The hardest to follow led through time, but how far, and in what direction? At this point, all he could do was guess.

Book 11

Turn 192plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 192: The End of Eternity

Darkness.

Silence.

Gil's arm was outstretched, the stone key still in his hand. He couldn't move.

As much as the moving stone snakes had disquieted him, Corbyn felt it important to try and close the gap, get closer to the pillar. He still held one end of the whip, but he couldn't pull it. Was

Turn 193plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 193: Changes

Corbyn leaned back down the ladder and held his finger to his lips, gesturing at the others. Once he had gotten their attention, he used a free hand to form a shape: the legs of a man. He repeated the gesture for quiet, and waved upward, then he slipped out the opening as quietly as he could and glided over to a spot out of sight of the one open chamber, hoping to make a better assessment of the situation before things came to a head.

Turn 194plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 194: The Mage and his Balowan

Halaren had been silently watching the dialogue with the priest unfold. Any word could be the last, and he worried about their fate once talking stopped. He looked down the hole where Tala looked back up at him. Voss's sword was still on the floor. Obviously he did not get the meaning of

Turn 195plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 195: Taking a Stand

Voss's refusal to enter the cell made Corbyn nervous. “Again, sir,” he said trying to deflect a bit of attention, “my friend here is not a Balowan or whatever you call it.” He looked at the awaiting room. “Looks more like a waiting room to me, Mr.

Turn 196plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 196: A Long Time Ago

Halaren beamed and shouted with a wave as the family departed, “'Tis so! He will show kindness, and know kindness in return!” Even without speaking the name of the goddess, he was pleased to share some of her teachings. Returning to his friends, he attempted to reveal the year.

Turn 197plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 197: The Initiate

Arnell Trent had been an initiate of Brundash for close to a year. Born in the foothills of the Kourels, in the heart of Andrithan land, he had been a sickly child, and as such, fell into a life of scholarship and calligraphy, rather than the martial path his brothers took. He learned early on that he had an affinity for magic, and thus had been entrenched in

Turn 198plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 198: Magic for Magic

“Corbyn, may I see your wound?” Halaren sat him down near a pile of dried manure and proceeded to clean his wound. “Blast. I need more ointment.” Corbyn wondered if that was how he referred to the herbal mud their healer so generously rubbed into people's wounds. He became even less comfortable as their healer eyed the manure.

Turn 199plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 199: The Andrithan Healer

“Arnell, is it true?” Voss asked. “Corbyn, why would you accuse him of such a thing?

“Just being cautious, Mr. Voss. It seems Sir Arnell did something -- not necessarily malevolent, mind you -- but he realized something and I would like to hear from him that this is indeed the case.

Turn 200plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 200: Where to Find a Secret

They continued to exchange information over the next hours. Arnell asked each of the others about their backgrounds, and was rewarded with stories of Tala as a wanderer from the east, Voss as a member of the savage Vhoosch tribe, Gil as a House Guard of Morenth who had felt drawn to

Turn 201plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 201: Yunim

Other than its location on a map, Yunim had very little in common with Dunweig. This was a city, packed dirt and cobblestone roads congested with people, mules dragging carts and wagons, and even a few horses carrying the wealthiest guild masters and merchants. Of course, horses would be far more common four hundred years later, when the harness would be perfected.

Turn 202plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 202: A Splash of Water

Arnell woke with a start, sitting blot upright in bed. In truth this wasn't that unusual. He immediately felt abuzz as if the day was to hold something special. He quietly opened the window shutters to let the early morning light into his small, orderly room, dressed and went through his usual morning routine. Soon he was sitting over his spell book in deep, silent concentration. It did not do to flaunt magic. Anyone knocking on the door would have assumed he was still asleep for the response th…

Turn 203plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 203: Risen Kanal

Halaren settled back into the dark corner of the bench, the smile fading from his lips. He let an internal well of confusion, emotion and voices of the past fill him and take him over. His face pinched together, like the wringing out of a cloth. In a minute he was near to tears, but his thoughts were already being collected. The order of

Turn 204plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 204: A Hasty Exit

Halaren breathed in deeply and exhaled with vigor as they emerged from the confines of the temple. He seemed genuinely pleased with their meeting with Risen Kanal.

“I really thought we were in trouble there,” he said. The beaming priest turned to the others to see what they honestly felt about what had transpired.

Turn 205plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 205: The Death of the Spies

The enforcer's visor hid his face entirely, so any expression he wore while riding at his rapid but even pace towards Arnell was invisible. It almost seemed that the enforcer would ride right past the beaming and smiling man in the center of the road, but he reared his horse at the last moment. Those townspeople close enough to see backed away silently, watching with interest while ensuring that no one could possibly associate them with what was going on.

Turn 206plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 206: Never Touching the Ground

Corbyn swiveled to Arnell, focusing on the dapper man to the deliberate exclusion of Halaren's gruesome workplace. “Perhaps there may be no need to run. We have certainly borrowed the carriage and horses, but I would not quite say they are stolen yet. The carriage could be returned certainly, but the owner is a good deal less likely to want it back. Some coin might be preferable. And more to the point Sir

Turn 207plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 207: Eluding Enforcers

While Halaren crossed the field, Arnell had several scares. The enforcer stayed still for the most part, but would occasionally move his horse a few steps one way or the other, or crane his neck to see what was happening. He was edging closer and closer to the place where his view of the silk would no longer be blocked. Then, just as

Turn 208plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 208: The Enclave of the Mad

After leaving Tala, they moved deeper into the forest just to be safe. The woods were inhabited, if very sparsely, and a determined enough enforcer might check each and every hamlet that was under the influence of Yunim.

They soon approached a clearing which seemed like an excellent place for a meeting, except that a group of a half dozen people was already there, around a single long hut with a grass-thatched roof. An old man naked to the waist sat on the ground, leaning over a large book. His…

Turn 209plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 209: The Blood Master of Gallia

Time passed quietly, aside from the occasional muttering from one of the Mad. Voss continued to pace around the edge of the clearing, watching for any signs of trouble. The strange residents of this camp did not seem to offer any threat, but the odd children made him uneasy, children who never entered into normal reality, despite changing positions occasionally. An hour passed, then two. The arrival of the group must have spurred an unusual moment of activity, or perhaps they were unusually quie…

Turn 210plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 210: A Question After All

Arnell finished up the food they had prepared and found a quiet corner to settle down in, grateful to be indoors at night. He checked the position of the windows and doors before sitting quietly and taking copious notes. It wasn't that he was unsociable, it was more that he had an evening and morning routine that he found hard to change. He also loved his sleep. If ever someone had wanted to torture

Turn 211plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 211: The Legend of Zilgard

When the sun's light began to filter through the trees around the clearing, and make its way into the open door and windows of the shack, the enclave of the Mad was silent. For once, all of them were sleeping or in their trance.

Arnell awoke as usual and looked around, surveying his surroundings. Going to sleep early had its benefits: he often woke with the birds, and aside from the dreams, his sleep was silent. He took out his books as he always did when he woke, and read, completely focused o…

Turn 212plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 212: Waiting in a Clearing

Risen Kanal hadn't specified where the Meeting would happen. He'd just said to look for a secluded place, so the group went deeper into the woods, away from the Enclave of the Mad and any pursuing enforcers or Morenthian guards. There was no sign of the elves they'd been warned about, at least no sign anyone would recognize. Four hundred years in the future, elves were a fairytale, commonly believed but with no proof. It was said they lived in the forbidding central forest of Huerten, a huge reg…

Turn 213plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 213: The Meeting

With the High Mage of Brundash just a few yards away, Arnell’s guard dropped. Not only was his long time hero standing in front of him, but also a great mage who could probably blink an eye and send Arnell to the netherworld. He tried not to look awestruck. Partly to indicate to the others that this mage was not to be trifled with, but mainly from his own respect for the man,

Turn 214plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 214: Brundash

The last time Voss stepped through a magic portal, he was impaled on the other side. Despite the uninjured magicians and balewans -- his own people, or some relation -- he was apprehensive, but if anyone could handle the brunt of whatever was in there, it was him. It was his duty to go first. Without any outward show of concern,

Turn 215plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 215: My Wandering Colleague

Arnell had bowed slightly as Belazan passed, but now stood to the side. Here, he held his counsel and simply listened as intently as possible, once again soaking up everything he could. He tried to study body language and perceptions. He waited, once again confident he was not the focus. He was getting used to it!

Turn 216plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 216: The Mad Mage's Curse

Outside, Fovery quickly caught up to Halaren. The priest recognized the mage's stance. It was obvious that high mage hadn't always been his profession. “What troubles you?” he asked.

Halaren sobbed as he leaned against what he thought was a tree, drawing in heavy breath. Nuts rolled from the bowl as his grip weakened.

Turn 217plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 217: You must ally with one

When Halaren left in the company of the High Mage Fovery, Corbyn and the others stayed in the stone pyramid for the night. Even Arnell was under constant scrutiny of the watchful eyes of the magi and Balewans who stayed with them. To Corbyn, being in the heart of a lost realm of magic and knowledge, yet being forbidden by the distrustful Cailena from so much as reading a common book was maddening.

Turn 218plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 218: Memories

“Milk?” the priest offered a cup to Corbyn when they were again alone. “It is a blessing from the Mother. Now, how do you feel?”

Corbyn reeled slightly as the initial effect of the potion took hold. Voss grabbed him by the arms and all but lifted the skinny fellow from the floor as he transferred him to a nearby bench.

Turn 219plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 219: The First Piece

Halaren held Corbyn's hand throughout the ritual. He hardly had a choice; the scholar held on with the grip of a woman in childbirth. Sounds and colors flew through the air as if they were solid things, and each time one struck Halaren by accident, it briefly held meaning

Turn 220plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 220: Gaping

The group awoke the next morning to find High Mage Fovery gone. In his place was a letter written in small, practical handwriting, practiced to conserve space, which was odd for someone who surely had no lack of ink or paper. Arnell read the letter aloud:

Turn 221plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 221: The Ancestor's Journey

These Storytellers were so strange in their approach to the truths around them. When looking at the truth, at the past and present, something was either true, false, or still in question. There should be no desire to meld the conclusions. What strange people to want to propagate lies into their histories for the sake of a narrative.

Turn 222plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 222: Raven Children

She visited all the Story Halls that night. The Halls weren't the only places stories were told, but they were the easiest places to find them. Finding a moment to speak with a Storyteller was much more challenging. The telling was a performance that was not interrupted except in prescribed manners. The listeners laughed together, clapped together, even sang together. It was an intricate ritual that

Turn 223plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 223: The Dream of Faulkan

The next day, Aldet knew something had changed in Gaping. It was subtle, but she'd been there long enough to have caught on to the patterns of everyday life. Had someone died? Had the peddler come into town off schedule? Had there been a fire? No, the first would probably have some ritual to go along with it, and there was none of the frantic activity one would expect from the later two. Well she was bound to find out eventually. Word spread quickly.

Turn 224plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 224: Strangers

After repairing her armor, Aldet headed into town late in the morning to keep an eye open for the strangers. They'd last been seen walking in the direction of the Polies, so she waited on that side of town. After meandering around for all of the morning and the early afternoon, she spotted them returning. They were very hard to miss. Even the blond one couldn't be mistaken for a resident of the village. As the group made their way through the paths, the young woman raised her hand to hail them a…

Turn 225plugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 225: The Gatekeepers of the Mouth

Gil, Voss, Corbyn and Halaren met up again the next morning with a renewed sense of urgency. Fovery's accelerated timetable meant they didn't have long to finish their business in Gaping. Soon, Aldet arrived with the news that Polinakas had been seen around town. This would not normally be unusual

Turn 193: Changes

Previousplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 192: The End of Eternity

Darkness.

Silence.

Gil's arm was outstretched, the stone key still in his hand. He couldn't move.

As much as the moving stone snakes had disquieted him, Corbyn felt it important to try and close the gap, get closer to the pillar. He still held one end of the whip, but he couldn't pull it. Was
IndexNextplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 194: The Mage and his Balowan

Halaren had been silently watching the dialogue with the priest unfold. Any word could be the last, and he worried about their fate once talking stopped. He looked down the hole where Tala looked back up at him. Voss's sword was still on the floor. Obviously he did not get the meaning of
Played until: 2013-04-24
Posted: 2013-08-04

Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
leaned back down the ladder and held his finger to his lips, gesturing at the others. Once he had gotten their attention, he used a free hand to form a shape: the legs of a man. He repeated the gesture for quiet, and waved upward, then he slipped out the opening as quietly as he could and glided over to a spot out of sight of the one open chamber, hoping to make a better assessment of the situation before things came to a head.

Could time have moved backwards? It certainly seemed their actions had been undone – or repaired.

'Guardian be good!' Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
thought. Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
had indicated a man above! No… it couldn't be Zee Don… brave though the scholar was, he wouldn't seek to tackle the wizard alone. And had the Guardian sent them Before, it would not fit that the mage was there. No, Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
must be certain the danger ahead was manageable or he would not have taken the gambit. Still, it was best to work in pairs.

Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
lowered Gilplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigGuillaume

Tall and handsome, Gillaume son of Heliand is the image of the heroic warrior. His chin is broad and his smile broader. His face is carefully shaven, and his brown hair would fall in curls if it weren’t for the closely cropped, monastic haircut. His hands are calloused and strong, but his long fingers give them a kind of elegance.
gently to Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren

Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
's hands and quietly shrugged off his pack and great sword. The scholar had requested silence, but he may need help, for if Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
failed above they would all be trapped like rats in a hole.

The barbarian was not unskilled at climbing and set to follow Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
's path up the ladder as quietly as he was able. Dagger in teeth, he painstakingly rose to a point just below where the false floor hung. Should he try to close it, he wondered? Not daring to make a noise, he listened intently for sounds above.

Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
stood, crouched slightly near the storage room door. He knew not to stand on the large tile, for the sound of the door opening would surely alert the man, and he couldn't step on any light tiles or he would fall into the pit, making even more noise. Thus he was limited to a very small area where he could stand in the room without being seen through the open door.

The room was in pristine condition. No dust, no broken tiles. In the silence, Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
thought he heard the hissing of a snake from somewhere below. Beyond the now living tree near the doorway of the office, came the sound of a steadily scratching pen. No, it wasn't a tree. More like an old, thick vine, coiled tightly on itself, with narrow, red-tinted leaves. He'd never seen its like.

How still can a snake remain, Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
asked himself. Zoological studies had never been a focus of his, so his knowledge was rather general. Nevertheless, the oddly coiled tree made him wary. Even if the fellow inside was so absorbed in his writing so as not to notice a shadow passing by the door, one could not enter without coming near the odd tree. It reeked of a guardian or defense mechanism.

What would getting in unnoticed accomplish anyway? It could set him up to surprise the fellow should he react to others in a hostile manner, but bonking him on the head probably would not advance the cause in any measurable way. And there was the matter of tools; his whip was gone and his knife was with Ramziplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigRamzi

The first thought that crosses people's minds when they see Ramzi is “that man exudes violence”. He is not an especially large man -- about 6', 190 lbs -- but he has oversized hands, and thick forearms bearing all manner of scars, and all one can think about is how easily those arms could be used to hurt people. He also moves with a grace that belies his size, and there is sense of taut readiness about him, as if he is a coiled serpent, ready to strike. His olive skin has the perpetual t…
, and for all Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
knew that poor fellow might be buried in the cellar of the Stone & Fire under the bulk of a collapsed building.

He could wait here for another of his little group of explorers to be noticed, and see how the fellow inside would react. But how would they handle it? Gilplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigGuillaume

Tall and handsome, Gillaume son of Heliand is the image of the heroic warrior. His chin is broad and his smile broader. His face is carefully shaven, and his brown hair would fall in curls if it weren’t for the closely cropped, monastic haircut. His hands are calloused and strong, but his long fingers give them a kind of elegance.
had perhaps the air of authority to command a moderate response, but the man was insensible at the moment. Talaplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTala

Tala stands at around 5 foot 8 inches, with round, dark brown eyes, shoulder-length, and wavy, dark brown hair, parted at the middle and usually held back in a ponytail with some piece of cloth. His face is a bit rounded, his nose not too tall, and his ears are usually showing, unless he does not tie up his hair. He weighs around 140 pounds, has a toned physique, and his skin is of tan color.
was polite enough, but practically exuded a foreign aura. Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren

Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
was quite good at putting people at ease and carried himself as a true pastor, but the man's thoughts were muddled and prone to leaps - perhaps a legacy of Ziedonplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigZiedon

Ziedon stands a little under six feet tall and is relatively thin. He has a neatly trimmed black beard and mustache which stand out considerably against his pale skin. His hazel eyes seem to see everything around him. Ziedon's white hair is cut short in the traditional townsman's style.
's magic, perhaps not.

No, he was unsure how the others would handle it, and what edge he might have gained by eluding the author's sight. A thought crossed his mind. He had to get a look at whatever text this man was scribing. Could it be a copy, the original copy, of one of the volumes he carried in his satchel?

Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
slid his hand into one of the secret pockets concealed on the inside of the leather belt he wore, just large enough to hold a bronze symbol of Andrithaplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigAndrithanism

Based on original ideas from Karl Schinke (Ardith). Symbols for aspects other than the Mother, along with the artwork, were contributed by Myron Wyles (Halaren).

Andrithanism and its variants are the dominant religion in Rang and the surrounding kingdoms. Within the boundaries of
. He rubbed it with one finger and looked over to the hole in the center of the floor, where he could see a nervous head bobbing just below the line of sight for someone further away. Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
, he thought. The easterner was brave, but could react in a volatile manner. Nothing for it then.

Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
quietly stepped away from the wall, avoiding the hazards he knew about to put him closer to the trapdoor and hopefully out of striking distance of the odd tree. Then he cleared his throat. “Pardon sir. I hate to interrupt, but you would not believe the questions I have and I dearly hope you might have an answer or two.”

The man, surrounded by a variety of strange plants, looked up from his paper. His desk was littered with jars and vials of various colored fluids, as well as pens, paperweights, rolled-up scrolls and a big brass bell. He seemed to look through Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
, not really noticing him for several quiet seconds. Then he jumped out of his chair, revealing the robes of a Morenthianplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigMorenth

Morenth's theology revolves around the simple idea that the entire universe belongs to him, and humanity is barely worthy to bask in his radiant presence. Those who refuse to acknowledge this simple, self-evident fact heretics, and deserve punishment or death. There is no repentance for heretics
priest, in a style slightly different from any Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
had seen before. His eyes shifted around the room, focusing finally on the open door in the middle of the floor. “Intruder!” he yelled. “How dare a wizard of Brundashplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigBrundash

By Arnell and the DM. Last updated 2014-09-17

Before the Battle of the Magics, Brundash was the mysterious home of a world-wide organization of magi. Even then, few could claim to have seen it, and no one would say where or even what it was. Brundash was a term used both for the place, and the organization.
invade the sanctity of the Houseplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigThe House of Morenth

As the primary place of worship for a population of six thousand, the House of Morenth is an enormous structure, perhaps five or six hundred feet across at the longest, but it's not just one big rectangular building. It looks like it's been added to many times over hundreds of years. Whether the building is bigger or smaller underground is impossible to tell. It is known that a library exists under
!” He picked up a knobbed stick from his desk and struck the heavy bell. The sound reverberated, echoing off the walls of the octogonal room where Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
stood.

Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
cursed silently. So much for the open and non-violent approach being best. He took a step back toward the trapdoor and fished the snakeskin book out of his satchel and held it up for the priest to see. “I am no wizard, nor from wherever Brundashplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigBrundash

By Arnell and the DM. Last updated 2014-09-17

Before the Battle of the Magics, Brundash was the mysterious home of a world-wide organization of magi. Even then, few could claim to have seen it, and no one would say where or even what it was. Brundash was a term used both for the place, and the organization.
is. If you wish to talk peaceably about the Song of Eternity and how it brought this about, I suggest you call on me below without whatever violence prone guards you have called as your first resort - unless you want to show them how the chamber operates I guess. Though perhaps I will have to re-activate it after all given this poor reception.”

Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
shuddered when the priest struck the bell. 'So much for the element of surprise,' he thought. The barbarian thought it curious that the man didn't seem to see Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
right away. Perhaps he was infirm or perhaps something else was afoot here. Would the priest notice him? Judging the sounded alarm and the soon to arrive reinforcements to be a greater threat, Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
leaped from his hidden perch, using nothing but the narrow carved rung of the ladder for support, and rushed to the office door to shut and bar it. Undamaged as it was, however, the door was sunken into the floor. There was no way Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
could see to pull it up – maybe that metal object hooked into the trigger tile inside the room would help. The priest took a step back, wielding the bell ringer as if it were a weapon but unwilling to approach the huge man in his doorway. Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
decided that the main entrance was a higher priority, and ran over to find a way to bar the door.

Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
had hoped to retreat down the ladder, leaving the priest with the impression that he was alone, but Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
had spoiled that. No help for it now. He stepped to the trapdoor, waving Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
over. Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
pointed the lever out to Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
so he'd know how to close the trap door when he followed, and rapidly descended into the lower chamber.

Curse his impatience! Too late he saw Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
's plan. This was all happening so fast! Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
tried to think. The wires had opened the door once activated by Gilplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigGuillaume

Tall and handsome, Gillaume son of Heliand is the image of the heroic warrior. His chin is broad and his smile broader. His face is carefully shaven, and his brown hair would fall in curls if it weren’t for the closely cropped, monastic haircut. His hands are calloused and strong, but his long fingers give them a kind of elegance.
's song. If he were to cut the wires, will the door stay shut? Which wire to cut? All of them? His impetuousness had lead to several poor conclusions already, and perhaps worse to come.

Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
' path was as a raider on the steppes, and barring that, a soldier in the western courts. His place was pitting steel against steel, not escaping like a rat from a cage… with what, his dueling dagger? He could surely overcome the man and perhaps take the ringer as a weapon, and then what? Fight his way out with a stick? The barbarian was not opposed to combat, nor was he afraid to die in battle, but killing a priest here and whomever else came forth through the door, too… And certainly his companions below could hold the breech for a time, but violence here could mean death for them all to no purpose. This could not be the Guardian's will.

“Priest,” the warrior said, sheathing his dagger and raising his hands above his head, while making his way to the hatch. Trying his best to curb his accent, Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
continued: “We mean you no harm. We fight the wizard, too! One who raises the dead and seeks to hasten the Zioth! Men from around the world, including a guard of the House of Morenthplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigThe House of Morenth

As the primary place of worship for a population of six thousand, the House of Morenth is an enormous structure, perhaps five or six hundred feet across at the longest, but it's not just one big rectangular building. It looks like it's been added to many times over hundreds of years. Whether the building is bigger or smaller underground is impossible to tell. It is known that a library exists under
is with us! He sang in this very room like so…” Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
tried the half remembered tunes and lyrics Gilplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigGuillaume

Tall and handsome, Gillaume son of Heliand is the image of the heroic warrior. His chin is broad and his smile broader. His face is carefully shaven, and his brown hair would fall in curls if it weren’t for the closely cropped, monastic haircut. His hands are calloused and strong, but his long fingers give them a kind of elegance.
sang ages ago. They were all muddled in his head but he tried his best, ad-libbing with words like 'goat' and 'snake' and 'zioth' where he'd forgotten the obscure, ancient words.

The priest stared, surprised that Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
hadn't charged in and attacked. “You and your balowan will not escape here alive.” Balowan? That sounded a bit like Balewan, a tribe of fierce warriors who were often confused with the Vhoosch, if only because their scarcity and obscurity meant that few knew their name. The door to the hall opened, and four tall men entered, each armed with swords that were decorated, blade, pommel and hilt, with a snake motif. They wore a style of thick, braided leather armor that Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
had never seen before, and their leather caps had starburst designs at the forehead. The uniform had to be heavy. The priest stepped out of the room and held up a hand, halting the guards. “Wait! Where did you learn that song?”

Decision time, thought Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
. Dive into the hole or attack the guards and he might survive … for a little while at least. No. Best play this bet to its end.

Keeping his hands held high, Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
slowly approached the priest, careful of his foot placement. He spoke in earnest, but his eyes flicked back and forth from the priest's face to the sword arms of the guards. “A companion of mine sang it not hours ago… or days.. or…” the barbarian banished the thoughts of time immemorial spent below. “He sang it and we entered and we are here now… but now is different.”

Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
hoped to close the distance to the priest. If this encounter should go downhill, perhaps the man would make a good hostage. The guards deferred to him. If they were charged with his protection, then the barbarian's approach would have their undivided attention. Perhaps he could distract them sufficiently for Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
or one of the others to return. If not, perhaps they would have time to close the hatch, lock it, and formulate a better plan.

The guards weren't going to let that happen. Two moved behind Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
and grabbed his arms. The others approached, clearing the light tiles in leaps so they could block the priest's door.


Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
motioned for the others to move back out of sight as he waited for Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
, but the large man did not follow. “It appears that we may have in fact moved back in time,” Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
said, “and the chambers above us are fully occupied by the Houseplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigThe House of Morenth

As the primary place of worship for a population of six thousand, the House of Morenth is an enormous structure, perhaps five or six hundred feet across at the longest, but it's not just one big rectangular building. It looks like it's been added to many times over hundreds of years. Whether the building is bigger or smaller underground is impossible to tell. It is known that a library exists under
.” He frowned. “I am sorry for bringing attention to myself gentleman, but I do not see how we could have hoped to sneak out of this place unseen, with its guards fully intact. Back to the crystal chamber for now, we may yet need that last stone snake, though maybe the fellow above will see some reason.”

Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren

Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
seemed panicked now. “What? Back? But we have to get out of here! Who is Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
talking to? No,” with clenched teeth he took Loadstone from Gilplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigGuillaume

Tall and handsome, Gillaume son of Heliand is the image of the heroic warrior. His chin is broad and his smile broader. His face is carefully shaven, and his brown hair would fall in curls if it weren’t for the closely cropped, monastic haircut. His hands are calloused and strong, but his long fingers give them a kind of elegance.
, “it is unsafe for him up there!” He glanced from the trapdoor to Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
and back up. “I need to accompany him. And Talaplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTala

Tala stands at around 5 foot 8 inches, with round, dark brown eyes, shoulder-length, and wavy, dark brown hair, parted at the middle and usually held back in a ponytail with some piece of cloth. His face is a bit rounded, his nose not too tall, and his ears are usually showing, unless he does not tie up his hair. He weighs around 140 pounds, has a toned physique, and his skin is of tan color.
? Does he want to stay down here?” He sheathed the sword and clambered up the ladder, hesitating for a moment. “Care for Gilplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigGuillaume

Tall and handsome, Gillaume son of Heliand is the image of the heroic warrior. His chin is broad and his smile broader. His face is carefully shaven, and his brown hair would fall in curls if it weren’t for the closely cropped, monastic haircut. His hands are calloused and strong, but his long fingers give them a kind of elegance.
, we need him back to his senses.” The dagger with the symbol of Andrithaplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigAndrithanism

Based on original ideas from Karl Schinke (Ardith). Symbols for aspects other than the Mother, along with the artwork, were contributed by Myron Wyles (Halaren).

Andrithanism and its variants are the dominant religion in Rang and the surrounding kingdoms. Within the boundaries of
the Fighter was visible at his belt.

“What?” Talaplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTala

Tala stands at around 5 foot 8 inches, with round, dark brown eyes, shoulder-length, and wavy, dark brown hair, parted at the middle and usually held back in a ponytail with some piece of cloth. His face is a bit rounded, his nose not too tall, and his ears are usually showing, unless he does not tie up his hair. He weighs around 140 pounds, has a toned physique, and his skin is of tan color.
suddenly replied in confusion. He had half expected this to happen, finding themselves backwards or forwards in time, or however that worked, but that did not diminish the impact when he heard it from Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
. “You mean to say there are people up there, and Mr. Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
is up there?” he said, eyebrows furrowed. “He is not possibly thinking about fighting alone, is he?”

Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
's steps thundered above, followed by a bellowed bit of song and some words. Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
sighed inwardly. Whip gone, knife gone, crossbow probably buried in the ruin of the inn where he kept his supplies. Nothing but his wits, though at least those would not dull. He couldn't leave Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
alone up there - he had to go back up devoid of tools. No, there was one thing. He dashed over to the stricken Gilplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigGuillaume

Tall and handsome, Gillaume son of Heliand is the image of the heroic warrior. His chin is broad and his smile broader. His face is carefully shaven, and his brown hair would fall in curls if it weren’t for the closely cropped, monastic haircut. His hands are calloused and strong, but his long fingers give them a kind of elegance.
and pulled the stone snake free. “I need to borrow this. I need to explain.” The key was held firmly in the insensible man's hand. Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
had to yank it free. When he did, a vibration shot up his arm and to his head. His entire body shook, and then the feeling passed. Gilplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigGuillaume

Tall and handsome, Gillaume son of Heliand is the image of the heroic warrior. His chin is broad and his smile broader. His face is carefully shaven, and his brown hair would fall in curls if it weren’t for the closely cropped, monastic haircut. His hands are calloused and strong, but his long fingers give them a kind of elegance.
blinked, finally beginning to come to. No time to think about it now. Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
followed Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren

Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
up the ladder, holding the snake out where the bearded priest could see it.


As the barbarian saw the two guards leap to block his advance, he stopped walking but never stopped talking. Instead, the warrior changed his speech to match his movements. “Whoa, whoa, whoa… I mean no harm….” When he noticed the two behind him, the barbarian smiled broadly. The guards had no idea of Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
' companions beneath them, and now two had their backs to that entrance and the attention was entirely on him. Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
had met cutpurses in these western cities that could strip the shoes off of a mark with less distraction!

The smile broadened even more with the guards' clumsy attempts to restrain him. If they had their hands free to grab his, that meant they had sheathed their weapons, and Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
's wrestling skills were the pride of his tribe. He had not been bested since he had reached ten summers!

The Vhoosch felt comfortable enough to play along, but his temper was drawing closer to the surface. He'd have to focus on keeping back the urge to fall into a berserk, blood rage. Grabbing one or two of these guards and throwing them into the light-colored tiles would be satisfying, but ultimately self-defeating.

“This is how you greet guests and allies in the Houseplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigThe House of Morenth

As the primary place of worship for a population of six thousand, the House of Morenth is an enormous structure, perhaps five or six hundred feet across at the longest, but it's not just one big rectangular building. It looks like it's been added to many times over hundreds of years. Whether the building is bigger or smaller underground is impossible to tell. It is known that a library exists under
Morenthplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigMorenth

Morenth's theology revolves around the simple idea that the entire universe belongs to him, and humanity is barely worthy to bask in his radiant presence. Those who refuse to acknowledge this simple, self-evident fact heretics, and deserve punishment or death. There is no repentance for heretics
?” the barbarian asked loudly of the priest, hoping the old man would once more intercede. “What a waste of good will and energy when wizards are the true foe! And my tribe is Vhoosch, and we are proud! Balewan are mongrel dogs by comparison. The menfolk tremble in our presence and have long since ceded the steppes to our warriors. The women…” Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
continued with a smile… “They tremble before the mighty Vhoosch for a different reason!”

The priest turned his head slightly, as if embarrassed by the implications. “Tell me plainly now. Where did you really learn that song, and which mage brought you here? I assure you, these men will quarter you in an instant if you do not cooperate.”

“Fox!” Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren

Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
cried out as he breached the trapdoor into the octagonal room. “Be gentle with our hosts, sir! They understand as little of this as we do!” He emerged from the hole and stood, not drawing any weapon or otherwise reacting to the guards around him. For a moment he fiddled with the leather strings that cinched up his gloves, staying over the trapdoor as if guarding their retreat. He tied a knot and pulled it loose. This would give him luck.

“How many of you are there?” the priest shouted, as the two guards behind Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
let go of him, spun around and grabbed at their weapons.

“Who is in charge? Ah, you sir. My name is Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren

Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
,” he bowed slightly to the older man in the garments. “The Song of Eternity has somehow brought you to us, or us to you. We are more down in the faceted chamber. Did you summon us?”

Though he tried to remain calm, Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren

Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
was indeed worried about their situation. All he could do was try and buy time for Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
, who he trusted had some greater understanding of their problem and a plan to fix it.

“I swear by the boundless wrath of Morenthplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigMorenth

Morenth's theology revolves around the simple idea that the entire universe belongs to him, and humanity is barely worthy to bask in his radiant presence. Those who refuse to acknowledge this simple, self-evident fact heretics, and deserve punishment or death. There is no repentance for heretics
, Andrithanplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigAndrithanism

Based on original ideas from Karl Schinke (Ardith). Symbols for aspects other than the Mother, along with the artwork, were contributed by Myron Wyles (Halaren).

Andrithanism and its variants are the dominant religion in Rang and the surrounding kingdoms. Within the boundaries of
, that if I do not have answers in very short order, I will have you all killed.” With that, he struck the bell again, likely summoning more guards.

And then Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
arrived, holding the piece of collar. The priest threw his hands up. “The mage returns,” he said. That brought Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren

Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
's hand to his sword handle as his eyes shot around the room in panic. But the Morenthianplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigMorenth

Morenth's theology revolves around the simple idea that the entire universe belongs to him, and humanity is barely worthy to bask in his radiant presence. Those who refuse to acknowledge this simple, self-evident fact heretics, and deserve punishment or death. There is no repentance for heretics
priest was looking at Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
.

Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
bowed deeply. “No, not a Mage sir. No such dark power has brought us here. Rather the opposite your grace.” He opened his palm before the priest, showing the stone snake. “I trust you know what this is. And we know the song sir, because one of our number sang it. He lays below, recovering from the shock of the eternal song.”

Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
' pulse quickened with the activity and tension in the room. The second bell ringing had considerably sped the tempo of this dangerous dance, and the barbarian was not finding the tune to his liking. His broad smile lessened a bit but he tried to maintain composure. His hands were free thanks to Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren

Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
's appearance. There were only two guards between him and the priest. The warrior's odds were improving, but it was not time for action yet. “Priest, I came by the tune honestly. My companion sang it. I heard it. And the only magic we have experienced has been by the craft of the Morenthplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigMorenth

Morenth's theology revolves around the simple idea that the entire universe belongs to him, and humanity is barely worthy to bask in his radiant presence. Those who refuse to acknowledge this simple, self-evident fact heretics, and deserve punishment or death. There is no repentance for heretics
and your crystal below. So I might ask you… how is it that we came here? Because it was not our intent! What is it about your room below that brought us here?”

As the hulking man leveled his questions at the priest, questions to which Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren

Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
would have dearly loved to hear the answers, the Andrithanplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigAndrithanism

Based on original ideas from Karl Schinke (Ardith). Symbols for aspects other than the Mother, along with the artwork, were contributed by Myron Wyles (Halaren).

Andrithanism and its variants are the dominant religion in Rang and the surrounding kingdoms. Within the boundaries of
priest instead leaned in to Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
and whispered, “Shall we prepare for the worst?” He dropped to his knees and called to Talaplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTala

Tala stands at around 5 foot 8 inches, with round, dark brown eyes, shoulder-length, and wavy, dark brown hair, parted at the middle and usually held back in a ponytail with some piece of cloth. His face is a bit rounded, his nose not too tall, and his ears are usually showing, unless he does not tie up his hair. He weighs around 140 pounds, has a toned physique, and his skin is of tan color.
below, “Sir, would you be so kind as to pass up the great word of Mister Fox?” He intentionally omitted the first letter of “sword” so as not to alarm the Morenthiansplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigMorenth

Morenth's theology revolves around the simple idea that the entire universe belongs to him, and humanity is barely worthy to bask in his radiant presence. Those who refuse to acknowledge this simple, self-evident fact heretics, and deserve punishment or death. There is no repentance for heretics
, but in case of confusion he pointed to where Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
had left it.

“On your feet!” the priest yelled at Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren

Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
's back, then was silent for a long moment. The door opened again, and three more men stepped through, uniformed identically to the guards already in the room. Without any command, they drew their swords and spread themselves out, leaping over light tiles so they didn't have to pass through the crowded center of the room. “Since you wisely have not yet attempted to cast a spell, I will give you a momentary reprieve.” The guards, however, maintained their stance, swords leveled at the newcomers. “We have here a mage of Brundashplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigBrundash

By Arnell and the DM. Last updated 2014-09-17

Before the Battle of the Magics, Brundash was the mysterious home of a world-wide organization of magi. Even then, few could claim to have seen it, and no one would say where or even what it was. Brundash was a term used both for the place, and the organization.
– do not lie to me and deny it – who carries a broken snake as if it were a talisman. His Balowan accompanies him, who almost sings a Song – and an important one. The mage brings an Andrithanplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigAndrithanism

Based on original ideas from Karl Schinke (Ardith). Symbols for aspects other than the Mother, along with the artwork, were contributed by Myron Wyles (Halaren).

Andrithanism and its variants are the dominant religion in Rang and the surrounding kingdoms. Within the boundaries of
who enters this place without leave, a crime in itself, and at least one other man, who still lies in wait below. This mage knows the name of one of our greatest secrets, and has bypassed our wards to enter the Eternal Chamber, which has been closed off for seventy years. His Balowan claims to have used the crystal; a foolish lie, but perhaps he does not guess that we are made aware when it is used. The magi have always underestimated the knowledge of the Houseplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigThe House of Morenth

As the primary place of worship for a population of six thousand, the House of Morenth is an enormous structure, perhaps five or six hundred feet across at the longest, but it's not just one big rectangular building. It looks like it's been added to many times over hundreds of years. Whether the building is bigger or smaller underground is impossible to tell. It is known that a library exists under
, haven't they? Now tell me Mage, or one of you others – I care not – why should you not be killed straight away, for violating the sanctity of the House of Morenthplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigThe House of Morenth

As the primary place of worship for a population of six thousand, the House of Morenth is an enormous structure, perhaps five or six hundred feet across at the longest, but it's not just one big rectangular building. It looks like it's been added to many times over hundreds of years. Whether the building is bigger or smaller underground is impossible to tell. It is known that a library exists under
with this failed infiltration?”

With the addition of three more guards, Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
' impatience directly mirrored their dwindling chance of survival. The label Balewan did nothing to improve his disposition. By the Guardian, the barbarian thought, This is what I get for negotiations. My talent resides in steel, not word bandying. His eyes darted around, assessing the situation. His heart held no fear, but he did not doubt that he could very well be experiencing his last few minutes alive. Perhaps his companions could fight their way through these seven guards and the priest. Perhaps several would even survive the melee. But what of the chambers beyond? How many scores of forces lay waiting beyond? But what could they do? Even if retreat back down the trap door were possible, how could they hope to replicate the actions of the crystal?

Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
continued to cast no spells, which was easy, given that he had no idea how to perform such a feat. Instead, he took a tack more suited to his skills. “I am no mage, and can only offer the message we bear: There is a legend that the secret of the Zioth was once known to a few in this region of the world. These few fragmented the secret and entrusted it to the holy places to be protected. Each is said to have a form unique from the others: earth, mind, life, force and time, though which received which is unknown. Five moons. Why? Four is too many, six is too few. Two houses at war, two homes destroyed, two dwellings rebuilt.”

Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
held his breath as he heard the scholar recite the riddle. He was relieved to have Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
parlay with the priest for it allowed him to focus on his strengths. If the scholar's tactic did not work, nothing short of the comatose Gilplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigGuillaume

Tall and handsome, Gillaume son of Heliand is the image of the heroic warrior. His chin is broad and his smile broader. His face is carefully shaven, and his brown hair would fall in curls if it weren’t for the closely cropped, monastic haircut. His hands are calloused and strong, but his long fingers give them a kind of elegance.
singing from the pit below could bide them additional time or credibility. Silently, he sized up the two guards in front of him protecting the priest. Which would be easier to disarm? He noted their sword arms and tried to discern the their level of training. Their armor was flexible enough for them to nimbly cross the distance over the light-colored tiles. Such armor must have weak points. Perhaps he could locate a spot that would well befit his dueling dagger. One of the two gave him an assessing look in return. In recognizing Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
's skill, he showed himself to be the more skilled of the guards. They both looked comfortable with their weapons, and had the physical bulk to swing them to good effect. However, the darting eyes of the other one were less focused on Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
. In trying to take the entire room into account, he would be that much less prepared for the greatest threat. Their armor looked to be of high quality, but a brass badge of office had been worked into the shoulder of each one, at the expense of some of the protective material. The rim of that circular badge would be the weakest spot.

“Stop!” The priest shouted, with a tinge of panic in his voice. “Leave,” he said, and it took Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
a moment to realize he was speaking to the guards. “Wait directly outside until I personally relieve you. If I ring the bell again, enter and kill every one of these men, and whoever waits below.”

The guards filed out, the two in front of Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
last and with slight hesitation, but they were too used to silently following orders to question the priest. As the guards filed out, Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
said a silent prayer and exhaled his held breath. Perhaps no one would die needlessly today. When the door was closed, the priest raised the bell-ringer in a threat. “Who are you? Where did you learn that? Only two copies exist of those writings. Only one copy of a part, and I possess it here. I know your divination cannot penetrate the walls of this room.”

What to do now, Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
wondered? He examined his options. There weren't many. Even with the guards gone, he felt naked disarmed. With Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
speaking, the barbarian pivoted and stepped aside, ostensibly so the scholar and the priest could clearly see each other. Stealing a glance towards Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
and Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren

Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
, he wondered where Talaplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTala

Tala stands at around 5 foot 8 inches, with round, dark brown eyes, shoulder-length, and wavy, dark brown hair, parted at the middle and usually held back in a ponytail with some piece of cloth. His face is a bit rounded, his nose not too tall, and his ears are usually showing, unless he does not tie up his hair. He weighs around 140 pounds, has a toned physique, and his skin is of tan color.
and Gilplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigGuillaume

Tall and handsome, Gillaume son of Heliand is the image of the heroic warrior. His chin is broad and his smile broader. His face is carefully shaven, and his brown hair would fall in curls if it weren’t for the closely cropped, monastic haircut. His hands are calloused and strong, but his long fingers give them a kind of elegance.
were, and looked to the trap door to see if they were nearby. The preceptor seemed to be having a hard go of this standoff. Idly, Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
wondered how much more the man would have to endure before he got his tea.

Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
measured the distance between himself and the priest of Morenthplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigMorenth

Morenth's theology revolves around the simple idea that the entire universe belongs to him, and humanity is barely worthy to bask in his radiant presence. Those who refuse to acknowledge this simple, self-evident fact heretics, and deserve punishment or death. There is no repentance for heretics
. Could he could reach the priest before he rang the bell?

Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren

Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
stayed in place, silently allowing Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
to take over discussion with the Morenthianplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigMorenth

Morenth's theology revolves around the simple idea that the entire universe belongs to him, and humanity is barely worthy to bask in his radiant presence. Those who refuse to acknowledge this simple, self-evident fact heretics, and deserve punishment or death. There is no repentance for heretics
. He just smiled as inoffensively as he could, and nodded as Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
revealed what they knew. He did worry about the six-is-too-few quotation. The Morenthianplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigMorenth

Morenth's theology revolves around the simple idea that the entire universe belongs to him, and humanity is barely worthy to bask in his radiant presence. Those who refuse to acknowledge this simple, self-evident fact heretics, and deserve punishment or death. There is no repentance for heretics
, if this was, in fact, the author, must know which book this came from. But Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
kept the tiny book a secret. And then there was his own presence. The others stood to blend into a tolerable tapestry of heathenism, but depending on what year it was, a Preceptor's head might only be good for adorning pikes here.

His smile became toothy and nervous, and he started fiddling with his leather bindings, untying and re-tying knots for luck. Would his new-found companions sacrifice him to get out of here alive? When the chips were down, Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren

Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
found it difficult to put his trust in others. At least there was one of Andrithian with him, one who trusted him and should be trusted in return. Who knows how these others would react. Gahh! He winced, wiping the thoughts from his head. He would protect them all, without question. They were all his brethren.

Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
nodded. “I know of those writings because I have a book you wrote, or will write. May I take a book out of my pouch? I assure you I am unarmed.” The priest said nothing, which was close enough to assent. Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
withdrew the snakeskin book and opened it, pages out toward the priest.

“I think it was left here. As unlikely as it sounds, we genuinely don't know what year it is. But when we found this place, it was abandoned and forgotten by the Houseplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigThe House of Morenth

As the primary place of worship for a population of six thousand, the House of Morenth is an enormous structure, perhaps five or six hundred feet across at the longest, but it's not just one big rectangular building. It looks like it's been added to many times over hundreds of years. Whether the building is bigger or smaller underground is impossible to tell. It is known that a library exists under
. There is an agent of the Houseplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigThe House of Morenth

As the primary place of worship for a population of six thousand, the House of Morenth is an enormous structure, perhaps five or six hundred feet across at the longest, but it's not just one big rectangular building. It looks like it's been added to many times over hundreds of years. Whether the building is bigger or smaller underground is impossible to tell. It is known that a library exists under
below, but he is recovering from some sort of shock. He is the one who sang the song.

“To summarize for now, we found a set of hidden tunnels on the nineteenth day of Saulturithagon, one thousand first year of the Zioth. We who are here accompanied a member of the Houseplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigThe House of Morenth

As the primary place of worship for a population of six thousand, the House of Morenth is an enormous structure, perhaps five or six hundred feet across at the longest, but it's not just one big rectangular building. It looks like it's been added to many times over hundreds of years. Whether the building is bigger or smaller underground is impossible to tell. It is known that a library exists under
guard who was investigating a potentially arcane disturbance. What we learned down here, was that someone or something had activated the Song of Eternity, and it was wreaking havoc upon everyone around the city and upon the structure of the city itself. Time flowed differently, great blocks of ice accumulated and plunged from the sky, destroying much of the city. We believed that an evil sorcerer who had been attacking the city might be behind this, and that he was after something the Houseplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigThe House of Morenth

As the primary place of worship for a population of six thousand, the House of Morenth is an enormous structure, perhaps five or six hundred feet across at the longest, but it's not just one big rectangular building. It looks like it's been added to many times over hundreds of years. Whether the building is bigger or smaller underground is impossible to tell. It is known that a library exists under
possessed. We found these chambers, abandoned, and this book upon a desk in that office. Using it and some guesswork, we descended below and attempted to turn off the Song, since there were no more guardians or caretakers left.

“Then history flashed before our eyes, we started in a small, unworked cave. Water came and went, and then the crystals and pillars appeared around us. And then – it just stopped, and we were flung to the floor. When we opened the door from below to find you. I have made the wild guess that we have perhaps moved backwards, some sort of rebound effect, I do not know, but you very well may. We are not experts at this, and whatever lays within this place lays forgotten in our place.

“Can you please tell me what year it is your grace? Or if you have seen anyone come before us by chance? We know a Sorcerer named Ziedonplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigZiedon

Ziedon stands a little under six feet tall and is relatively thin. He has a neatly trimmed black beard and mustache which stand out considerably against his pale skin. His hazel eyes seem to see everything around him. Ziedon's white hair is cut short in the traditional townsman's style.
was prodding about in the catacombs of the house and he is a most vile man who has committed many crimes, that our compatriot Mr. Guillaumeplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigGuillaume

Tall and handsome, Gillaume son of Heliand is the image of the heroic warrior. His chin is broad and his smile broader. His face is carefully shaven, and his brown hair would fall in curls if it weren’t for the closely cropped, monastic haircut. His hands are calloused and strong, but his long fingers give them a kind of elegance.
would like to bring to justice.”

The priest considered for an uncomfortably long time, as if practicing in his head what he was about to say. “You know a great deal about the Song of Eternity. I know not where you acquired this knowledge, but you must think me a great fool to believe that preposterous story. You claim to be from days yet to come, a time when this great House has been abandoned for some reason you neglect to explain. That is impossible. If the orb is approached incorrectly, those inside the Eternal Chamber are pushed forward until such time as we are prepared to deal with them. I emphasize that the crystal can only send you forward, not back. Thus you must be from days past. Now the question is when. That book, or the book you copied it from, was written roughly one hundred years ago, thirty years before the chamber was completed. Thus you must somehow have arrived in the chamber without being seen and attempted to create the Orb. This, of course, belies your claim not to be a mage, for no one else could have passed through here unseen, even if the guards were thoroughly negligent. The only question that remains is how you acquired the book long enough to copy it. Do you care to enlighten me?”

In the sudden turn of events, Talaplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTala

Tala stands at around 5 foot 8 inches, with round, dark brown eyes, shoulder-length, and wavy, dark brown hair, parted at the middle and usually held back in a ponytail with some piece of cloth. His face is a bit rounded, his nose not too tall, and his ears are usually showing, unless he does not tie up his hair. He weighs around 140 pounds, has a toned physique, and his skin is of tan color.
saw himself dumbfounded and stuck on the spot when the Preceptor and Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
went back up the stairs and into the room above. When he found it in him to do anything other than just stand there, he was left with Gilplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigGuillaume

Tall and handsome, Gillaume son of Heliand is the image of the heroic warrior. His chin is broad and his smile broader. His face is carefully shaven, and his brown hair would fall in curls if it weren’t for the closely cropped, monastic haircut. His hands are calloused and strong, but his long fingers give them a kind of elegance.
, who still seemed not to have shaken off the effects of their deactivation of the Song. Shrugging, he opted to stay below with Gilplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigGuillaume

Tall and handsome, Gillaume son of Heliand is the image of the heroic warrior. His chin is broad and his smile broader. His face is carefully shaven, and his brown hair would fall in curls if it weren’t for the closely cropped, monastic haircut. His hands are calloused and strong, but his long fingers give them a kind of elegance.
, but he moved closer to the ladder to better listen to what was going on above, even if sounds did descend only as muddled echos. After some time of this, he climbed half way up.

Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
was growing tired of this knife's edge they were treading on. The guards outside, and Guardian-knew-how-many beyond, hung like the executioner's sword above their necks. Still, that option might be preferable to this wordplay. “Bah!” said the barbarian. “We say you are from the past. You say we are from the past. We say we are no mages; you say it is so. Were we mages like foul Zee-Don” – Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
spat on the floor – “why would we bandy words about here? We want to be here no more than you want us to be. You require substance to trust. I do not blame you.

“Try this, priest. Write in your book and let us see if it appears in ours? If your new words show on our document, you know our story to be true. By your own admission no spell craft can penetrate your office. If that is not enough proof, we have coins from our age. If you are still dissatisfied, send us forward with your crystal. I'd rather die fighting a wizard than be called a liar by you.”

Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
nearly smiled as he heard the response Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
gave. The large fellow had hit matter right on point it seemed. He looked at the priest.

Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren

Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
's eye bugged out as Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
stomped through the delicate situation, but he said nothing. Instead he chanted quietly to himself and wondered about what Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
had said, the suggestion to write in the book. What were the implications? Was he trying to prove they were the same book? That script inked in the newer would appear in the older?

But then again, the Morenthianplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigMorenth

Morenth's theology revolves around the simple idea that the entire universe belongs to him, and humanity is barely worthy to bask in his radiant presence. Those who refuse to acknowledge this simple, self-evident fact heretics, and deserve punishment or death. There is no repentance for heretics
did say the whatchamit only moved people forward. And that was what they had observed, the cave evolving from darkness over and over again. Never did it devolve. That would be the backwards of it, wouldn't it?

Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren

Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
believed that the Zioth was a cycle. Not an end. Death and rebirth. The serpent swallowing its own tail. Although it looked to Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
like they were living out history, it may be something else. It may be a whole new world, in which case, changing the Morenthianplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigMorenth

Morenth's theology revolves around the simple idea that the entire universe belongs to him, and humanity is barely worthy to bask in his radiant presence. Those who refuse to acknowledge this simple, self-evident fact heretics, and deserve punishment or death. There is no repentance for heretics
's book would not have any effect on their own.

Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren

Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
looked up. He was lost in thought, and missing all that Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
was now saying to the Morenthianplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigMorenth

Morenth's theology revolves around the simple idea that the entire universe belongs to him, and humanity is barely worthy to bask in his radiant presence. Those who refuse to acknowledge this simple, self-evident fact heretics, and deserve punishment or death. There is no repentance for heretics
.

“I assure you sir,” Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
said, “I do not believe you to be a great fool. If anyone here is a fool, it is me. Though I may be a fool in many aspects, I am not feeble minded and know what I have experienced. I came to this place in the year 1001, as commonly reckoned in our time, and you still have not told us what year it is hear and now, though by your statements I gather is sometime well before 1001.

“I do not know why this place was abandoned, and will not offer you an fiction as to why that might be the case. Among our number is an agent of the house, currently recovering from his ordeal. When he can speak, you will here what he has to say, but he was unaware of this place.

“As for proof, you can see this volume I hold. You may recognize the handwriting; I do not. I've no idea when this book was written. I scarcely picked it up more than an hour ago. If you have a pen, I am happy to write something so that you can see what my script looks like. 'Tis not my handwriting and you may recognize the maker. The only alternative would be for you to assume that I, in addition to be a mage as you claim, have also developed talents as a master forger. Oh and for the purpose of playing this joke, I had entire run of coins minted. Now does that seem logical? And, more to the point, if I were a mage here on some vile errand - why on earth would I come up here and speak to you and seek out your guidance? How could that possibly advance any sort of malevolent agenda?

“As I said, I'll confess to being a fool on occasion, but I am not a lack-wit. I realize how precarious our position might be. If we have moved in time, like I fear, then anything we do here could have grave consequences in the future, no? That is why I came to you, rather than meddling about with the chambers below. We needed someone who understood these matters to help prevent any mishaps.

“Furthermore, we have clearly not arrived in this chamber by sneaking past the guards. We came from below. One of our recovering number is still down there if you want to look down the passage. And would it not have been obvious if we had opened the trapdoor from this side? There is a complex mechanism on one end, and a simple latch upon the other. No, we have come from below, not anywhere else.

“We have not come hear to create an orb, and frankly I have no idea what orb you might be talking about. I've seen the pillar below, but no orb or the like. And I hardly look like I am prepared to craft something, seeing as I have no tools or other equipment.

“And as for how the chamber below functions, as I tried to explain but perhaps failed, whatever power lays within was already running when we approached it and was affecting the whole area for miles around. How it was triggered I do not know, but it was running. We had hoped to turn it off. I am not sure we succeeded in doing that.

“The era we come from is nigh upon the Zioth. We had guessed that it was meant to take the city beyond the date of the Zioth, but you know far more about affairs than we do. I am not sure how and why it is we are here now, and not after the end of days, but that is what I was hoping to discuss with you sir.”

Since the priest was not hitting the bell for the moment at least, Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
gave him the full account of what they had witnessed in the chamber, how history had repeated itself again and again.

Halarenplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigPreceptor Halaren

Halaren stands wide and heavy, large feet and hands offsetting a comparably small head. He looks in his late twenties. His skin is pale and a little blubberous, tugging his facial features downwards to give him a slightly sad and dim-witted appearance. His face is well shaved, and hair medium in length, though so thin and wispy his head is clearly visible underneath. Further adding to his girth are the heavy robes he wears, well worn and covered in smudges. A long, deliberate …
stayed silent and waited for the response. The less these Morenthiansplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigMorenth

Morenth's theology revolves around the simple idea that the entire universe belongs to him, and humanity is barely worthy to bask in his radiant presence. Those who refuse to acknowledge this simple, self-evident fact heretics, and deserve punishment or death. There is no repentance for heretics
heard of him, the better for their chances of getting out of here. But before that, how could he get his hands on that Morenthianplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigMorenth

Morenth's theology revolves around the simple idea that the entire universe belongs to him, and humanity is barely worthy to bask in his radiant presence. Those who refuse to acknowledge this simple, self-evident fact heretics, and deserve punishment or death. There is no repentance for heretics
's book?

As before, the priest paused, considering his words carefully before he spoke. It seemed to be a habit of his. “You ramble on a great deal, and yet there is so little substance. You claim that this argument and that makes it impossible that you are of the magi, and yet I put nothing past them. The only mystery to me, and thus the only element in your favor, is that book. Bring it to me. I may even attempt your overbold Balowan's experiment.”

Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
shrugged. “No doubt I speak too much. I am a man of words, not arms.” He passed over the snakeskin book. Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
surreptitiously mouthed the word 'sword' to his companions, and then attempted to follow Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
into the room. The priest raised the ringer and gave Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
a glare that sent him back. At least he was a bit closer, and was able to block most of the priest's view of the trap door in the floor.

“Now step back,” the priest said to Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
. “I will not be subject to any trickery.” When Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
was back in the glass room, the priest gingerly opened the ancient book and scanned the pages. “This is not the book you quoted.” Keeping an eye on the group, he opened a drawer, removed an identical book and opened it. “The resemblance is remarkable, but of course it is well within the purview of a forger.” He turned both books to the last page, glanced at the men in the glass room, and picked up an already inked quill. Leaning over his desk, he wrote in Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
's copy and looked over his own. “As I suspected,” he said, and picked up his own copy for the others to see. There was no new writing in it. “Of course, what your Balowan suggested was impossible, but the notion was intriguing enough that I had to make the attempt. Your story is nonsense, of course, designed to deceive. Why you linger here so long is only a mystery in that I cannot personally explain it. Now stand back, all of you, and bring the other up here. We are all going to leave this room together.”

Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
swallowed hard and exhaled. The test had failed. Perhaps he should stick to what he was good at. With Talaplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTala

Tala stands at around 5 foot 8 inches, with round, dark brown eyes, shoulder-length, and wavy, dark brown hair, parted at the middle and usually held back in a ponytail with some piece of cloth. His face is a bit rounded, his nose not too tall, and his ears are usually showing, unless he does not tie up his hair. He weighs around 140 pounds, has a toned physique, and his skin is of tan color.
and Gilplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigGuillaume

Tall and handsome, Gillaume son of Heliand is the image of the heroic warrior. His chin is broad and his smile broader. His face is carefully shaven, and his brown hair would fall in curls if it weren’t for the closely cropped, monastic haircut. His hands are calloused and strong, but his long fingers give them a kind of elegance.
about to be summoned at least he should have his sword again.

But what should their next move be? The priest was likely to ring the bell once the rest were out of the chamber below. The guards would return to disarm them - likely ahead of executing them. Should he risk it all and try to take the priest as a prisoner now? The man was held in regard and he would make a good bargaining piece.

There had been two books. Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
struck Vossplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigJahred Voss

Voss has an intensely pale complexion, even for a very light-skinned caucasian, which has earned him the nickname 'The Ghoul.' Lately though, this creamy skin has given away to being pocked with red blotches, the end result of a stubborn epidermis that refuses to tan. The Vhoosch are rarely exposed to the beating sun and it's heat and warmth. Like his ancestors before him, he has a hard time adjusting to more mild and warm climates. He is extremely sensitive to humidity… it is not o…
as a careful man. Had the scholar intentionally handed over one with the intent to show the second? Perhaps he had a plan.

The barbarian looked to his companions for a clue to their thoughts. What options did they see before them?

Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
shrugged. “I cannot say I expected that to work, given that we and the book are already here, but I would agree it is worth the experiment.” Rather than looking anxious, he tried to relax his posture somewhat to appear more amenable to discussion rather than combat. “I do have one more suggestion though your eminence, try writing in the other book. By writing in my book, you have assumed that it predates your own, but that is not what we believe. Try writing something different in your book. We might as well complete the experiment before we move on.”

The priest stared at Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
, whether considering his words once again or incredulous that he had not been obeyed, there was no way to know. Finally, he took up his quill again and made a tiny mark in his own copy of the book. He tipped Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
's so it could be seen. “Nothing, of course. Now step back and summon whoever hides below. My patience is quite limited.”

Corbynplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigCorbyn Wren

Corbyn is a 19 year old man with straw colored hair (indeed his thick locks greatly resemble a thatched roof upon his brow). He is quite thin and has rather spindly limbs that are nevertheless quite agile. Despite his youth, he wears the short robes of a scholar over his breeches and introduces himself as a tutor for hire. He prefers scarlet cloth for his robes and more pedestrian materials for his trousers.
stepped back. “It was worth a try. Our companions will come up sir, but then what will the next step be? We are a bit out of sorts here.”


Previousplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 192: The End of Eternity

Darkness.

Silence.

Gil's arm was outstretched, the stone key still in his hand. He couldn't move.

As much as the moving stone snakes had disquieted him, Corbyn felt it important to try and close the gap, get closer to the pillar. He still held one end of the whip, but he couldn't pull it. Was
IndexNextplugin-autotooltip__default plugin-autotooltip_bigTurn 194: The Mage and his Balowan

Halaren had been silently watching the dialogue with the priest unfold. Any word could be the last, and he worried about their fate once talking stopped. He looked down the hole where Tala looked back up at him. Voss's sword was still on the floor. Obviously he did not get the meaning of