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Author Topic: Journal of Stygian Achnuman  (Read 4873 times)

Rowana

Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« on: October 20, 2013, 02:56:36 am »
Life has been rough, and the road bringing me to where I am today has been twisted and dark. It seems like ages ago when goblins attacked the caravan I was tagging along with. The murderous little creatures killed most of the merchants and their families, and I still wonder to this day, why they chose to keep me alive and sell me into slavery to Acron Grinille. *shudders* The leering face of that evil little man is burned into my brain. His torture and abuse have left scars on my body and soul. He thought his little bracelets would bind me to the house for as long as he wanted to keep me alive, but how wrong he was. How very wrong. He did not comprehend the depth of my will, the power of my focused mind. *chuckles*Acron laughed at me because he thought I was trying to starve myself to death, and he threatened to raise me with his necromantic magic as another of his undead minions if I died, but he was so stupid for not seeing the bracelets getting looser and looser every day.I wonder what went through his mind when he woke up to the sensation of the blade of his own knife slipping between his ribs, seeking his black little heart? Only the Gods would know, and I wish I could be privy to that knowledge so I could savor it like a fine wine aged in an oak barrel....(Stares blankly at the large black book in his lap) Now there is this. Acron's book. I watched and learned from a master of death. This book holds power I am too weak to understand. Some day though this knowledge will be mine. I will never be the slave of another.
 

Ravemore

RE: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #1 on: September 04, 2006, 10:35:49 pm »
I hear the calls of the book constantly in my mind...The hissing promises of power are a seduction I can no longer forebear. I opened the book and immersed myself in dark secrets and cryptic arcane formula. Over the course of about a week, I have mastered several dark magics. I can cause a burst of life draining energy, direct a ray of the same substance, and cause my touch to replicate that of the horrid undead ghoul. I entered the goblin badlands and tested my newfound proficiencies to terrible affect. I felt nothing. The pit of my stomach was hollow and cold, even after slaying some of those who represented the cause of my past enslavement… I shudder to think where this road will lead me. My feet are on a path that leads into shadows and darkness.
 

Ravemore

RE: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #2 on: September 05, 2006, 09:32:12 pm »
I am beginning to see that the undead run rampant around Hlint. It is turning out to be a good location for the studies I have begun, at least in regards to some of the lesser of the restless ones. I am documenting the types of the risen, and attempting to decipher the enchantments that hold them in thrall. It is slow going though without a laboratory and a specimen…

The book is disclosing clues to hidden secrets that intrigues my mind and motivates me to focus more intensely. Secrets that may bestow the power to conquer death itself. If I stay the path…

Today I assisted the small one, Gilli, with a mission into the crypts. A Cleric or Paladin assisted us. I will have to exercise caution, as there are Orders and Secret Societies that would not look kindly upon my academic endeavors. Gilli is a breath of fresh air, and actually makes me smile and laugh. Both of which have been in meager supply lately. Sometimes I feel like I am hanging from the precipice by my fingernails, the abyss waiting below to swallow me whole. I do not feel that way when Gilli is around.

I hear rumors that the war is going badly. Perhaps my art can be of use in defeating undead elements of the enemy force, when I am stronger. We will see…

The book beckons me…
 

Ravemore

Re: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #3 on: October 23, 2006, 09:39:48 pm »
The power contained within the pages of the book is a narcotic....and a poison. I feel it eating me up. I have stared into the abyss, and it has entered into my soul. If I still have one. I can escape it for days at a time, but the incessant whispering overcomes me and I must obey. I fall into the weave of dark magic’s and do not eat, do not sleep, and feel the transfer of power with every symbol and word that is memorized. The other day I awoke from a stupor on the edge of the swamps, a crossbow in my hands pointed in the direction of friends, reason returning was like a splash of cold water on my psyche. If Gimli and Gilli had not arrived, it is hard to say how long the book would have held me in thrall.....
 

Ravemore

Re: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #4 on: November 22, 2006, 09:03:25 pm »
I slipped into the brambles and briars infesting the under story of the forest surrounding the fetid swamps of the high moors. I easily made my way several hundred yards into the trees and crouched in the shadow of an old, gnarled weeping willow. A slight breeze made its way through the foliage bringing the acrid smells of rotting vegetation and mud, and ever so slightly moved the draping blankets of moss hanging from blackened branches. I watched and listened for any sign of followers, my dagger unsheathed and ready to find a mark. The silence was tangible. Even the insipid whispering of the book in my mind had ceased. I waited until my knees began to throb and I could feel the familiar sensation caused by restricted circulation. There was no sign of potential interruption, so I began the task I had gone there to perform.

I cleared a nine-foot patch of forest floor of leaves, weeds, and other debris, sweeping it to the sides with a handful of sticks. After baring the earth, I scratched a small circle containing a triangle into the earth with the point of my dagger, about three feet in diameter. A thaumaturic symbol used in the binding of spirits and outsiders. I pulled the book out of my knapsack and laid it next to the circle, the hissing whispers once again flooding into my head. I stood up, raised my arms high into the air and summoned my familiar Glothnid. After the brief flash of light, the conjured raven hopped close to me and cocked its head regarding me curiously. I winked at him and said, “Watch this little friend…” I kneeled next to the inscribed circle and pulled a small pouch from my pack. I poured powdered silver into my palm and began sprinkling it into the lines etched in the earth. Following directions from the book, I then drew letters from a long dead arcane language around the perimeter and began reciting the accompanying incantation. The sounds were repetitive and vibrated with power. They were intoxicating, and resonated with memories from hellish places no mortal man has treaded, realms of shadow and flame…
The interior space of the circle began to shimmer like the horizon of a desert on a hot summer day and the vague figure of a small humanoid form began to materialize and coalesce. In a few very short seconds the hunched shape of a small demonic being was leering at me, slick crimson skin pulled taught over a bony frame, razor sharp teeth protruding from a gaping maw, and a flexible scorpion-like tail poised over its shoulder, the tip glistening with a shiny black ichor. It hissed in common “and to whom do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” as it motioned to the smoldering powdered silver in the conjuring circle. I replied with a grin, clucking my tongue, “Tsk tsk infernal one…. You know the danger as well as I in the trading of names.” The little devil chuckled, “It appears this will not be as easy as I hoped. Do you know why the book instructed you to bring me to this world of weak creatures?” I replied casually, “Pray do tell?”
It hissed, “To test you, to see if you are worthy of the power the book can teach you. Many before you have failed, and the consequences of that failure are…….serious. Do you wish me to test you?”
I replied in the same casual voice, “I do..”
Quicker then the human eye could follow the creature lunged for me, its tail whipping around in an arch, seeking to inject its venom into my heart. I did not move. I did not flinch. The inscriptions around the circle flared white, and the lines of the circle itself flashed violet and the creature fell to the ground twitching as if electric current had entered its body. It gasped for breath. A perplexed look on its angular face.
Still without moving I said, “Now, let me explain what has happened to you. The test the book had in mind was passed even before you arrived. I easily discovered there was a small portion of the symbology of the containment circle intentionally left out of the instructions. I insured it was added.”
The creature screeched in rage, circling in a feral manner, “And what do you want of me?”
I put my finger to my lower lip, tapping it in apparent thought, “Now that is a question I think I can answer. Really, the only thing I wanted was to see the look on your face when you nearly electrocuted yourself. The book is already giving me its secrets.”
The creature hissed, “You lie! The book does not give the power that easy.”
With a blank look bereft of emotion, I began to chant and the glowing lines of a gate flashed nearby and disappeared. The devil began laughing. “I see….”
What he was going to say was cut short though when the ground where the gate had disappeared began to push up and a skeletal hand erupted from the damp sod. Its eyes widened as the skeletal warrior pulled itself out of the earth. The undead creature shambled towards the devil and stopped within an arms length from the circle and me. Glothnid cackled in the branches above us. I snapped my fingers and the skeletal warrior thrust its rusty blade into the body of the little devil and it screamed as it died in agony…
 

Ravemore

Re: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #5 on: November 27, 2006, 06:12:32 pm »
Acron’s Book has begun whispering barely discernable words woven into its constant chatter that I think I have made out to be “Black Wizards.” I have heard incomplete rumors and shadowy stories that are probably mostly fiction. I have decided to begin a serious investigation into who they are. Perhaps they are another path to power…… I have written a letter to someone who may know more.

Ozymandias Llewellyn,

I have heard you are a very knowledgeable historian and Bard. My reason for writing you is an inquiry into the commission of a historical document outlining the record of the Black Wizards. This piece is for my private collection and confidentiality in any type of transaction involving this subject matter is imperative. It must be complete and detail names, places, dates, etc. If this type of work is within your ability, please leave a sealed note with Erag in Hlint with a date and time where we can meet to discuss the work. If there is no reply, either I will assume this is a subject you do not wish to delve into, or you have no interest.

Sincerely,
Stygian Achnuman
 

Ravemore

Re: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #6 on: November 28, 2006, 03:47:20 pm »
I walked into the stifling warmth of the Wild Surge and strode across the hall towards the kitchen, looking to the shadows and scanning the faces of all present. As I approached Erag the Undertaker I said ‘ I am Stygian Achnuman, has anyone left a message with you for me?” Without saying anything he reached into his black robes and withdrew a folded parchment closed with a wax seal. I took it in one hand and replaced it with several gold coins from the other. He turned around and walked away.

I found a table in a darkened corner and snapped the seal in half, tipping the parchment to catch the light from a nearby lantern.

Stygian Achnuman

One of the most important parts of gaining knowledge of any value off my person is to seek me out, the hard way. I am often in Hlint. I wish you luck in finding me as I spend most of my time lurking invisible.

O. L. L.

I put my finger to my lower lip, tapping it in apparent thought, gazing into the candle flickering on my table. “Invisible….”
 

Ravemore

Re: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #7 on: December 05, 2006, 11:51:56 am »
I made myself a more frequent visitor in Hlint, hoping to catch sight of the illusive Ozymandias Llewellyn. He has lived up to his words in his last letter to me and has proved to be a hard person to find. I spent several fruitless days searching, teeth grinding in frustration, when I walked out of the bank and saw him talking with a small group of people. I casually made my way across the street and stood next to the tree in front of the gates to the graveyard, and watched. He immediately picked up on my surveillance and walked the short distance to my spot and said “Well lad?”
I responded, “ I am Stygian, I recently wrote to you.”
Ozymandias said, “ahhhh….Of course. I’d ask you what you wanted to do with that lot, but by your garb I can guess. Find and speak with Rufus Coldfinger.”
I said “Thank you.” as he turned on his heel and returned to his group.

 I opened the door to the Wildsurge and made my way to a corner table. I took a seat, tipped back my chair on two legs and tapped my finger on my lower lip in apparent thought. - I have never heard of this Rufus Coldfinger. I would have to deduce he is a mage though. Where to start? I’ll probably have to expend some gold and hire someone to find him. I plopped the legs of the chair back on the ground and extracted a quill, ink vial, and parchment from one of my bags. I scratched out a quick note:

I am seeking to employ someone skilled in locating a person who may not necessarily want to be found. Delivery of a parcel will be part of this job. There may be a high level of danger involved, and confidentiality is expected. Respond on this notice with your name and I will set up a time for an interview….

Stygian Achnuman

I posted it on the public board and left the Inn to complete other business.
 

Ravemore

Re: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #8 on: December 12, 2006, 11:40:57 am »
I sat on the ground next to the old weeping willow again. The buzzing of the crickets and croaking of frogs was blending well with the hissing whispering in my head. This place has become comforting, secluded from the prying eyes of the residents of Hlint. A place where I can contemplate arcane lore, and experiment… The townsfolk would not take kindly to my craft, and there is no need to upset them or make my life uncomfortable with animosity or undue attention. Too many potential tools in that “tool shed.”

I gazed at the new book I had recently acquired from the dwarf Gimli. I paid him well for it, and he is proving to be a valuable asset, both for his fighting prowess, and his uncanny knack for recognizing items that may be of interest to me. A fascinating item containing several enchantment spells for charming. Not my forte, but not unfamiliar either. It may prove useful in the future.
 

Ravemore

Re: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #9 on: December 16, 2006, 01:59:43 pm »
There have been several inquiries into my post for a skilled seeker of persons. The results have been either silence or refusal after it was conveyed that the person I am looking for is Rufus Coldfinger. Gilli accepted the job though. It is dangerous, but he should be more then capable. If he is killed for his effort, I will have to find another. Hope not, but fate is fate….. He has also proven to be a valuable asset. He is good at heart though, so care will have to be taken to not ostracize him. His projected innocence belies a sharp intelligence.

Ozymandias has once again imparted some valuable advice, this time in regards to my post seeking an instructor for the language of the devilkin. He seems to be in the right place at the right time all too often. Almost as if he is watching all that transpires and through divination or machination makes an entry at the opportune moment to steer the situation in a certain direction. Might be envy on my part, I’m not sure. *chuckles* He wrote: “The very nature of the language of the infernal pits of the Baator is a cruel callous thing. Not easily spoken by a mortal tongue, I would suggest preparing to spend one or two years learning even the basics. I would advise in studying the infernal beings deeply to understand their mentality before embarking on a quest to understand their language. I give you full warning that those that deal with devils fair far worse then those that deal with demons.” His advice is well grounded, and I have made the decision to begin study in the local libraries. Demons are machines of destruction, weapons, but the Baator are power…
 

Ravemore

Re: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #10 on: December 24, 2006, 03:45:52 pm »
Gilli has been partially successful with his undertaking. He has located where Rufus Coldfinger resides and has slipped a note under the door requesting a meeting. It turned out to be on the Barbarian Isles. If the audience is granted, he will deliver my parcel. It is now a waiting game. I am patient though…
 

Ravemore

Re: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #11 on: January 02, 2007, 02:36:40 pm »
The night was a rough one. The whispering from the book was incessant, wrapping its tendrils into my very dreams. Sleep was tumultuous and bestowed very little by way of recuperation. My eyes were blood shot and swollen from lack of sleep. I wish my head had been clearer for the conversation with Ozymandias the next day because the amount of knowledge that was being fed to me was staggering. He initially asked me how my progress with the infernal language was going. I found it a little humorous to regurgitate a phrase that I had heard him utter days earlier near his house on Dregar. Having heard most native languages spoken in the past, I hazarded a guess that it was infernal: “Cmak or J Cmyyji `Ryz Dra Ramm yk…” His response was a laugh and an inquiry as to who my teacher was, or if I was only keen on repeating his cursing. We then got into an in depth conversation, which I will record here. It will do a great deal in assisting with me in learning the language of the Baator.

Ozymandias: “Ever notice how when you go to speak a different language you change how you think? This in itself is what makes the outer planes languages so difficult, as they are a far greater leap of perceptive change. This goes to the extent that in fact using them will gradually change you.”

I replied: “A change in ones thinking?”

Ozymandias: “Indeed, they are manipulative languages by their very nature. Converting one to join their very ethos.”

I replied: “Conversion via speech….interesting. Are there arcane energies weaved into the speech?”

Ozymandias: “Of a more subtle sort then what most are used to. As you learn things, doors in your mind are unlocked, and as you are taught your perceptions change. This is universal, all things do this. With the outer planes though, thought defines life more strongly then here. So the languages born of it focus on parts of the mind. To speak the tongue of devils properly, one must adopt a stance akin to them. Unlike the tongue of say elves, which can be spoken or sung without any particular change in emotions.”

I replied: “So…Since speech is a vehicle of thought, and thought has a strong influence on reality, it is sort of like weaving a spell?

Ozymandias: “Very much so. The outer planes ones however twist the mind much rougher, as they are further from the norm then others.”

I replied: “So…Strong will and directed purpose must be used when speaking them?”

Ozymandias: “Indeed, strong will to keep oneself, and directed purpose to speak them at all. Anyone at anytime can speak the words themselves, they are just syllables. However, they will convey no meaning and sound bloody odd.”

I replied: “And to convey meaning one must be able to understand the way of thinking of the race originating the language...”

Ozymandias: Indeed, with the outer planes that is mandatory Stygian. Elves and humans think very much alike, so the changes in thought are minor. However, the difference between mortal and outsider is significant.

I replied: “And there lies the difficulty, that is if one wants to convey more then syllables with no meaning, gleaned from books and conversation.”

Ozymandias: “Mmmm…and why it takes so long to learn a language like that. Elven can be garnered in months with practice and aptitude.

A feral and dangerous elven-looking woman approached Ozymandias soon after our conversation, and the rough sound of what I guessed to be the infernal dialect of the devil-kind was soon being exchanged. I began copying much of what I was hearing, heedless to grammar, relying on phonetics. Tapping my finger on my lower lip, deep in thought, I make a mental note to use this information when I hit the library again.

(OCC// Keille‘Leugh was the one speaking to Ozymandias)
 

Ravemore

Re: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #12 on: January 02, 2007, 10:34:02 pm »
I am sitting in the Wild Surge Inn, a darkened corner lit by feeble candle flame and with a small smile on my lips. Today a newcomer to Hlint approached me with a request for enchantments, offering to pay for them. I charged him a paltry 30 True for a variety of spells. He gave his name as Rotaris. The third time he approached me I had a delightful thought. I offered to return his coin and provide as many enchantments as he desired for the rest of the day in return for a favor to be announced at a future date, and a lock of his hair. Foolishly, and without thought he sawed off some his hair and gave it to me. I think the favor and the price he will pay at a future date will far exceed the true he saved…. *Chuckles and leans back in the chair*
 

Ravemore

Re: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #13 on: January 09, 2007, 06:47:17 pm »
I sat on the damp ground with my back to the old, gnarled weeping willow. The wind had died and the branches and leaves of the surrounding trees hung limp, like condemned criminals hanging from the gallows. I had been sitting there for hours, the buzzing of the book hissing and instructing. I wondered aloud if there were others who could hear the book’s dark directives. The sound of my rasping voice, parched from lack of water, brought me back to the surface, and I clung to that realization like a drowning sailor grasping at passing jetsam and flotsam.

The book has been telling me for weeks that my familiar Glothnid must be abandoned. The very idea wrenched at my heart. He had been with me for so long. A faithful and self-sacrificing servant, but I know it must be so. Not only because the book has been prodding, but because Glothnid himself has been manifesting discomfort. I am sure he can sense the black tendrils of the book swirling about me, feeding me, making me strong. Of late, the old raven has taken to sitting in the trees at a distance, cocking its head and eyeing me with concern and…. Fear. The thought angered me. I clamored to my knees and extended my left hand, baring the palm to the foul air. With my right hand, I unsheathed my dagger and cut a shallow wound across the left. As the blood began to swell out of the nick, I began intoning the incantation I had been learning. The bright white light of a gate opened and the hideous floating form of a small beholder-kin floated out. Eyestalks waved and the large central eye gazed at me balefully. It lunged forward and opened a mouth bristling with multitudes of sharp pointed teeth. My response was a swift slap to the side of its body. It immediately withdrew a foot or so. “Hear me beholder-kin. I am Stygian Achnuman, and I am your master! Serve me well and without question and you will be rewarded greatly. Disappoint me… and you will know great pain. Do you understand me? A soft-spoken voice entered my mind, “Yes my master. I shall serve.” The round form of the eyeball rocked back in forth in what seemed an affirmative gesture.
 

Ravemore

Re: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #14 on: January 13, 2007, 01:10:11 pm »
It has been roughly 5 months since the beginning of my quest to learn the infernal language. It is very difficult. I have spent many weeks in the libraries of Spellgard and Port Hampshire, digging into dusty tomes and ancient manuscripts. The wisdom conveyed by Ozymandias on Augra 24, 1410 has been invaluable and has opened up my mind’s eye to numerous meanings and grammatical anomalies in the language of the Baator. The language on face value is rough and barbaric, but when you look into the deeper levels, there are complex double meaning and hidden discourse promising power, pain, and destruction. In comparing the notes I took from my eavesdropping on the conversation between Ozymandias and the elven-looking woman and my current research, I am finding familiar words and phrases from which I am grasping wisps of meaning. The majority is still elusive though…..
 

Ravemore

Re: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #15 on: January 20, 2007, 09:23:56 am »
Gilli approached me today. He looked obviously uncomfortable, glancing furtively into the shadows for hidden watchers. He said, “Can we go somewhere less populated to talk?” I said, “Certainly, we can find a quiet table at the Wildsurge.” Still looking wary he nodded affirmatively. After finding a secluded table he said, “The message has been delivered.” I chuckled and said “ And your limbs are all intact, it was obviously a successful mission on more then one account.” He laughed and said, “Yes, and I’m here to collect the balance of my payment.” I reached into a pouch at my side and pulled out a leather bag fat with gold coin. “This is the remainder of what I owe you. 3,000 True. I may have more work for you in the near future.” Gilli accepted the offered bag, balancing it lightly in his right hand as if calculating the weight, and said, “Sure, let me know.” He then stood up and departed. I leaned back in my chair deep in thought, thinking of the possible outcomes of my actions…


*** The Package***

*A sealed parchment envelope bearing the black wax seal of a small human skull*

Master Coldfinger,

Power is a seductive and often illusive lover. She tempts and teases, and often appears to be just out of reach. I have been chasing her for some time, and she has whispered the name “Black Wizards” in my ear often. My search to find answers to this little puzzle has led me to you with both great expense and effort. I write to you with a request for apprenticeship. I do not seek membership in the afore mentioned order…yet.

I have attained the 10th circle as a solitary mage. My specialty is necromancy. My value and potential can be great. I am well received in the settlements of Mistone and can easily serve as your eyes, ears, and hands. I am discreet and have a keen mind for intrigue. In the quest for power, a true practitioner of the Art must be prepared to walk into the abyss. It is my sincere desire that you consider my request and judge me worthy of your instruction.

I can be contacted most often in Hlint.

In Darkness and Shadow, I await your summons,

-Stygian Achnuman
 

Ravemore

Re: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #16 on: January 23, 2007, 12:36:02 pm »
My studies concerning the language of the devil-kin is progressing well. I am able to read and write many phrases now. The pronunciation is the most difficult part, and I will need more practical application to refine it. Many of the words are hard for my tongue to wrap around, but I stumble much less now.
 

Ravemore

Re: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #17 on: January 24, 2007, 11:28:36 am »
*Deep in study at the Arcane Tower, intent on the faded ink of a great dusty tome* Muttering to himself and taking the following notes: The nuances of denotation and connotation that are a part of everyday language are a serious problem in the language of the devil-kin. To be faithful to the dialect, it must capture the feeling and emotion as well as the meaning, whether it is friendly, threatening, formal, informal, or even deliberately obscure. See notes from conversation with Ozymandias, this evidence seems to offer support for his statements.
 

Ravemore

Re: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #18 on: January 28, 2007, 10:01:26 pm »
Today I made a trip to Raven’s Watch again, with Gilli as my guide. Master Coldfinger has requested my presence in regards to the missive I recently sent to him. I had many hours to think on the voyage, and leaned on the railing of the boat, staring at the passing ice flows as the prow cut through the cold gray whitecaps. Gulls screeched from the sky as they wheeled around the vessel in tight fast circles. It also gave me time to dissect several occurrences in Hlint that happened before I departed on my journey. The one I have begun to refer to as “The angry mage”, Rhynn, walked up while I waited upon my guide, and struck up a conversation. After discovering that I was waiting for Gilli, and that I was leaving, she smiled and said, “Bring a heavier cloak because it is cold up there.” I raised an eyebrow, to which she replied, “Now who you do you think told Gilli?” Testing the waters, I replied, “It is cold in many places.” She quickly smirked and quipped, “Don’t play dumb, I know what you're up to and want to wish you luck; and caution.” This gave me pause, and room for concern. I was aware Gilli had been asking around in his preliminary investigation into Master Coldfinger, but not that he had mentioned my name. Has she put two and two together? Does she have any idea of what I plan? Why does she even have an interest? Is the Halfling more careless then I have assumed? Definitely, some avenues I will have to look into. Too many avenues…
Soon after, Ozymandias approached and greeted the two of us. He immediately cast two spells I easily recognized as See Invisibility, and Legend Lore. I covertly looked to the shadows and at those that were passing by or loitering. Were we being watched? I am usually a keen observer and did not see, or feel anything awry. I also wondered what he was trying to divine. Was he trying to discern my intentions or actions? At the time, I chalked the whole affair up to my nerves and apprehensions in regards to my summons, but now, as the salty spray of the sea reached up to caress the skin of my face, I am not as sure…

The biting cold of the Isle was crawling through my very veins. The two of us approached the house of Rufus Coldfinger. I paid the Halfling for his services and offered to let him depart, but he insisted on making the introduction, as that is what he was tasked to do. I chuckled inwardly because I was sure he was only afraid of appearing to fail to any degree in his task. Almost on cue, the door swung outward without either of us touching the locking mechanism…

As I walked into the interior of the necromancer’s abode I was greeted by warm air, the smell of burning incense, and the grey-clad figure of Master Coldfinger standing in the entryway. I could literally feel his gaze brushing across my body, the hackles standing on the back of my neck. I smiled in the shadowed confines of my hood. He motioned to some couches near a fireplace and said, “Come, take a seat, but the Halfling should stay further away, as he has nothing to do with this at the moment.” Gilli replied in a quiet voice, “I was actually going to take my leave, unless I'm needed later?” Rufus Coldfinger nodded slightly and said, “I see no need for you to stay.” The words were barely finished before he was out the door, “Very good, I'll leave the two of you to your business then…” The door shut softly behind me. We sat on expensive velvet and leather couches opposite each other. I laid my staff aside and waited patiently for Rufus to speak. After what seemed an eternity, but in reality was probably only a few heartbeats, he leaned back and asked, “Who is this Halfling to you?”
I replied, “A tool…”
He said, “And I assume he knows nothing of your visit's goal?”
I replied, “Unless he opened the letter...no. You would have known if it was opened though...correct?”
He said, “Yes, but don't you think he was able to add two and two together when he heard what other people were saying when they heard my name from him?”
I said, “He was only interested in the gold... Gold can buy many things, including silence. It would also be unhealthy for him to add two and two… And unprofitable.”
He smiled, his eyes never leaving mine, and said, “In such instances even more coin usually opens the tight lips once again...but let's leave it that.” After a pause, he shifted his weight slightly, arranged the edge of his cloak, and spoke again, “Tell me, why I would require your assistance in any way? You said it yourself, gold can buy many things.
I replied, “And as you said, even more gold can buy the exact opposite. I seek power, and for power, you would have my unwavering allegiance... You are feared. I am not. That in itself has value.”
Rufus spread his hands, lifting his arms a bit and said, “But by sharing what I have and not receiving anything in return I loose. You speak of your allegiance, but what good is it for?”
I replied, “I have no illusions harbored concerning a relationship between you and I. I would be a tool, and by being used as a tool, I would gain knowledge, experience, and...Power. As a tool, I would better enable you to perform your own work.”
Rufus looked at me for a few moments, weighing what he was about to say, “So I will have to always keep you on a short leash, since our relationship will be strictly business. That would mean you would be willing to stab me in the back when somebody offered more…”
I raised an eyebrow, “It could mean that... but it does not. I would have the same reaction if I were in your stead. The leash will get longer in time. That is a given.
Rufus smiled as he replied, “I have ways to accomplish that, perhaps a spiked collar to control you?
I chuckled, “Perhaps. That is, if the leash is offered…”
Rufus replied, “Very well, I see what you wish, and what you are able to offer, but do you know what you are getting yourself into? Besides potential endless power?” He smiled as he said that last part.
I replied, “As I said in my letter...To obtain true power, one must be willing to step into the abyss... The endless power is a fringe benefit.”
He leaned forward, “So you are willing to accept all hmm?”
I replied without hesitation, “If I were not, I would not be here, but the answer to the question is "yes, I am willing."
He grinned at me and without looking away said, “You remind me of myself many years ago, because of that I am able to guess and imagine what other thoughts are in your head at this moment. Tell me of your past.”

I gave him an abridged version of my past at this point, not divulging too many details. I thought it would not further my goals by letting him know I had killed the man who had owned me as a slave. I simply told him that many years ago I was captured by goblin raiders and sold into slavery to a necromancer named Achron. A foul unwashed little man who specialized in creating undead, and that I had escaped. He did not question me on this any further.

Rufus then asked a very odd question, one I was not totally prepared to consider, “And you have become like him?”
After thinking for a few moments I replied, “I suppose in some ways. I do bathe more though....”
Rufus then said, “So a slave who wants to become a master, or simply a person without another example in front of his eyes?
I replied with a smile, “To obtain power, one must be master of something...”
Rufus replied, “Your answers are rather intelligent, I enjoy that. But here is the fact.” He leaned forward on the couch, looking into my eyes, “Once the "leash" is offered you shall have gold, knowledge, and in time, power, but there will be no way back and the result of betrayal or failure shall and always will be worse than death.”
I replied without hesitation, “I would expect nothing less from one of my own tools....”

At this point, Rufus tested my knowledge on various subjects, primarily history. After awhile he said, “Very well, I enjoy what I hear... But I still need to test you...The Halfling knows too much, you need to get rid of him.”
I replied, “Very well, I will neutralize the threat.”
He said, “Neutralize or eliminate?”
I replied, “They are one and the same....”
He said, “That was the answer I wanted to hear.” He smiled “The death itself is not a necessity at this time. However, you show willingness and that is what matters. Who are we to kill a useful tool hmm?” These were my exact thoughts. My first inclination was some type of mind-wiping spell, but failing that, death may have been a necessity.
I replied, “Aye...They are difficult to find, and a good tool box full to the rim is worth more than gold...”

At this point, it became evident that my request for apprenticeship had been accepted. I was elated and the possibilities going through my mind were endless. We spent several hours after that discussing tasks, and I could barely concentrate on my surroundings as I headed back to the docks at Raven’s Watch. I could not even feel the bitter cold as it sapped the warmth from my body. The return trip was much the same, a blur…
 

Ravemore

Re: Journal of Stygian Achnuman
« Reply #19 on: February 04, 2007, 10:57:41 pm »
I am sitting in the Wild Surge Inn, a plate of half finished food pushed aside to make room for my writing utensils. The parchment is quickly filled with my rapid, fluid writing. I fold the parchment into a makeshift envelope and look around me, seeking those who may be paying more attention to my presence then needed. After I am sure no one is watching, I take out a small stick of black wax and melt a blob onto the flap of the parchment with the candle from the center of the table. I take out a small signet in the shape of a human skull, and press it into the wax, which quickly takes the shape of the metal, and cools after removing the instrument. I then stand up and push the chair closer to the table. Looking around to ensure I am not being followed, I head to the Postmaster to send the missive to my Master…
 

 

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