The World of Layonara
Character Development => Development Journals and Discussion => Topic started by: Aragon on November 23, 2004, 10:10:00 PM
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*The journal is a normal sized book bound in a thick grayish-black leather hide. The handwriting is suprisingly neat and tidy swoops and curls.*
"All things must have a beginning, and so to does this tale. Needing to scout the neighbooring continent of Rilara for supplies, I secured passage to the town of Point Harbor. I had only barely gotten there when the most remarkable event transpired that I still cannot quite believe myself. One moment I was walking toward the gates and the next thing I knew I was seized upon by an icy hand that froze me to the bone. A swirling vortex of screams and tormented souls encircled me driving me to my knees. And then as quickly as the vortex came it was gone, but a voice rang in my mind. It was a voice of a thousand screams of tortured souls yet is was crystal clear to discern. The voice called to me, 'My Dark Priestess, your deeds have found favor in my sight. You have furthered my cause in the puny village of Hlint. You have sought to bring more to my cause. I am well pleased in you thus far, do not fail me, I have high aspirations and plans for you.'
Then the vortex encircled me once more. It was then that the guard approached wanting to question me. My lord bade me flee as the guard turned her back. I turned and ran with all the speed I could muster barely managing to flee the city gates before the guard caught me. Once safe in the nearby forest I was able to exclaim my praises to the Dark God. He once more came to me sealing his words upon my very soul with the blessing of his inky darkness. I could feel it creep and crawl over my flesh. A dark ray of blackness shone down upon me and all was as before.
I shall treasure this day always, the 12th day of the 7th month. Lord Corath has called me to his bidding and I shall not fail him."
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"Once again my lord Corath has spoken to me. This time it seems his council is for those followers of the faith. He spoke against the brashness of brandishing sheilds of faith in the open. His message was one of being less conspicuous with the actions of his followers. He spoke against Galerevin, the dark bard. The very earth shook beneath my feet when he found out about the bard's traterous actions. But what can one who breaks the blood oath expect. I must soon speak to Nethro and pass this message to him and our other followers. I feel the time growing for a mighty step foward in our progress. My lord Corath give me the strength to bring his will upon these insolent worms of Hlint."
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"Interestingly, enough upon journeying to Point Harbor with Marcus Perrin, we found ourselves in the middle of an interesting circumstance. A rather nasty mephit was setting blaze to the crafting houses. This is another crafting house attacked. It wasn't long before a large group of adventurers came to help save the crafting houses. We dispatched the creature and set to putting out the blaze. Minor damages to the crafting houses were sustained. I followed the party into the forest of Dinein to soon be approached by the prior master of the mephit. Seems that he lost control over the pet but his bond with the creature was strong enough to help him locate the beast. The man, Windwalker, was soon surrounded by the group and talk soon escalated into the man paying for the crimes of his creature. Perhaps it had something do to with his affiliation with Pyrotechon, but the group soon became a mob bent on forcing their will upon this man. Though no fault could be found in him.
It was then that an idea came to my mind, if I helped this man escape he could be quite useful in progressing the plans of Corath. I whispered the plan to Marcus. I back away from the mob enough to remain out of most peoples eyesight. I then used Lord Corath's inky darkness to conceal the location of the mage of Pyrotechon. Marcus cast invisibility upon us and we all fled from the linch mob.
These would be heros are too anxious to disperse judgment yet they forget the very laws they swear by. Why their precious Rofirein decrees all to be innocent until proven of their guilt. Yet this man was guilty to them before the matter had been brought to the aurthorities. Such hypocrites!
Thus far I have convinced those who have challenged disapperance at the same time as the mage that it was for the best. Little do they know who freed the mage and the plans I have for their pathetic town."
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*this page is full of illustrations, glyphs, and summoning phrases*
"Stones to bones, life to death, raise to me one without a breath." -- Animate Dead
"Dogs of war, Hounds of fright, Aid me in my unholy fight." -- Summoning a Shadow Mastiff
"Shadows of darkness, Watchers of all, come to me from off the wall." -- Summoning Shadow
Corath's Punishment
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1 Vial Blood of an innocent
1 Vial Black Ink
1 Hair from the victim
1 Item of the victim
The ink must first be consecrated by the priestess of Corath, blessed with his unholy hand. The hair is first bound around the victim's item. Symbolizing the bands of death that will close in on the victim. The unholy ink is then slowly poured over the items. Symbolizing the black sackcloth of Corath that comes for us all. The vial of blood is then pured over the blackened items. Symbolizing the blood that will be spilt. Finally, the items are cast into the flames of the altar. Symbolizing the agonies and pains the victim will endure. Note to caster --- this curse is extremely taxing on the caster and should not be used casually.
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*** Entry recounting my first CDQ (Thanks Calem) ***
There is a great difference between being taught and learning for oneself. This distinction is becoming clearer in my mind. Names and places swirl through my mind and I struggle to keep them straight. Much has transpired, so much so that I hasten to record it here before the events slip from me. It is one thing to be raised to belief in a dogma, and another to have that belief turned to a knowledge. A knowledge with lasting effects.
While in the attitude of prayer this day, I went about my normal means. Was the prayer or the fasting or was the timing right ... I can not say, but the events of this night will linger embeded with lessons learned. I was half way through my prayer when the crypt turned drastically colder. The low light of the fire darkened and a specticale of great white light issued forth from the altar. Before me in the air about a foot above the altar floated a great white skull bathed in an auro of darkness that seemed to issue from it. I collapsed to the floor not daring to look upon this servant of the Dark Sun. It spoke with a voice like an icy dagger that with each word stung me to my very soul. Darkness swelled around me paralyzing my frame.
"Who dares envoke the Lord of Chaos, who dares call upon his name?"
"A most humble servant of thee my lord."
"You! You dare call upon me asking for what you are unworthy to ask of! You know nothing of what you ask, you are blind in you ignorance."
As he spoke these words I was surrounded by a flash of white light and my vision was taken from me for a time.
"You are unworth because you lack an understanding, you lack a knowledge of what once was."
"Speak my master, thy servant will obey."
"Get you up and seek out the Dark One, you will find him near the village your people call Krandor."
"Yes my lord."
"You will learn the pain and suffering of the Mad One. Until then to remind you of your unworthiness let the icy hand sting your bossum with his icy burning. Do not fail young one."
With that he dissappeared into a swirling vortex of darkness. The darkness that held me prisoner collapsed upon me. The vortex drained from me all strength that I had causing me to collapse at the base of the altar. I don't know how long I layed there upon the cold grey stone of the crypt. It must have been hours before I regained consiousness and even longer before I was able to drag myself from the sanctum.
The journey to Krandor was a blur. Thoughts swirled through my head as I stumbled along the familiar road. Somehow I made it to the outskirts of Krandor. I was about to enter in the village when from the shadows emerged a man.
"I would not venture further into the village with the taint of the Dark One upon me."
"Y..you know who I am?"
"I suspect you are the one who has called from amongst the heart of our enemies. Come follow me."
He lead me deeper into the forest to a cliff where a foutain of water sprang forth.
"We had not recieved a call for several months. And from the village of Hlint even longer. Why have you called?"
"I wish to be taught at the hand of our lord."
"Taught? Oh no ... our lord does not teach his servants, they learn through pain and much suffering both to them and our enemies."
His name was Ezekiel. He went on to explain that behind the waterfall once was an entrance to the underdark. He spoke of the drow as allies, and the power of the underdark. He spoke of days long ago and the might that our lord once held on this land. He spoke of the Forsaken Temple of Corath and how the strongholds of Lord Corath were toppled to followers of the Golden Dragon. Ezekeil recounted the legend of Arakanor Lightbane, greatest champion of Corath, and his might. He told of how the great temple was destroyed and the imprisoned Celestrial released, the great disease that our church ones used against the nation of Mistone. The wonderous tales he told of the might and power of Lord Corath. But all came to an end at the destruction of the temple. He told me that if I was to truely follow the path of Corath I must know what transpired before that the folly might not be repeated. He asked of my dedication and my intents. Inorder to meet my designs, Ezekiel said we should meet soon at the gates of Storan's tomb, there he would take me to the ruins of the Forsaken Temple.
Having journeyed to the gates of Storan before I soon arrived to find Ezekiel waiting.
"Storan was once a great ally to our cause. Still he walks in his curse. He guards the path that leads to the temple, but not all ways into the temple are known."
After a brief climb up the mountain he showed me the path that would lead to a hidden entrance known only by a few. I followed his directions and came upon some dark, cobweb encased stairs that led down into the temple. The destruction that must have occured when the magics of the temple failed are beyond believe. After a few minutes I managed to free a gate from the rubble and slip past it. Skeletal remains crushed under massive stones littered the floor. The next room was completely demolished. It appeared as if the roof had collapsed and the floor had opened to swallow the temple up. Amongst the rubble I caught a glipse of metal. Upon approaching I found it was the remains of a fellow priest of Corath. He clutched an old holy symbol and a book. The writing and the glyphs on both are beyond me thus far, I shall have to research them a bit. One thing is for sure the holy symbol radiants with the power that once was herein.
I returned to the surface and once again spoke with Ezekiel. He instructed me that the path would be wraught with perils, persecution and possible death should knowledge spread forth of my plans. He complimented me for my insights into the temple and bade me seek out further knowledge at the hands of Rufus Coldfinger. The path is clearer, I shall not fail.
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It didn't take too much research to discover where Rufus Coldfinger makes his home. Most people are quite polar in their feelings toward him. It was by chance I happened upon him while checking the notes posted on the bulletin board in Llast. Indeed Plenarius was not wrong in his assumptions that Rufus and I should meet. We have many things in common, chief among them is our devotion to the Dark Sun. Rufus was most interested to learn that our cult had been established in the heart of the enemy. I showed the book to Rufus hoping he could decipher the text, but he said the text was foreign to him as well. He did mention having "friends" that might be capable of such translation. Rufus has an apprentice that is a drow. I was most interested to learn that this drow has been contacted to infiltrate our cult. Seems he is to be the chief spy. Oh the irony ... do they think that we are not connected? Or perhaps they think of us as a scattered and broken people. Rufus was quite concerned that our cult have a safe location to meet and conduct business. He has graciously given a large common room to temporarily conduct the sacred rituals within. He has charged me with decorating it as a proper temple should be. This first meeting of the dark alliance has been most rewarding. The seeds of darkness are growing and soon they will be ripe to harvest.
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The cermonial room is nearly complete, only a few minor things remain until it can be used for our unholy designs. The dedication of the temple will need to transpire before we can truely use it.
The great seeds of my plans are beginning to grow. Each day I feel the darkness growing, surely my enemies must feel it as well. Even as I speak the followers are flocking to the evil power. Our numbers are swelling with devout followers. I have yet to hear from those who would inflitrate my cult.
I met another drow recently, by his very demeanor I could tell he was not like the normal surface dwelling drow I have met of late. The hate and evilness eminated from his countenance. How very delightfully refreshing when so many around Hlint refuse to look to the darkness. He is a devout of Baraeron Ca'duz. Herein lies another tier of the Dark Alliance. Through this dark elf and several others we will reestablish the old alliance which once existed. Togethor we will unite our strength and devour as he put it "the unworthy".
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I now record the ceremony as given to me by the hand of Lord Corath.
Initiates Ordeal
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The initiates are first blindfolded by the escort and brought into the ceremonial chamber when summoned by the priestess. They are led single file bound on their right wrist with a woven rope made from the hair of the deceased. The escort stops the initiates outside of the circle of skulls.
Priestess: “Who are these unworthy that stand before the altar of the Dark Sun?”
The escort: “Seekers of the White Skull.”
Priestess: “Ye who are unworthy, kneel before the altar of the Mad God. Ye come before this altar seeking that which is forbidden. Do ye desire to walk the path of the dead, forsaking the light for darkness, willing to submit to the icy hand and his torment? (Response)
Priestess: “Remove their blindfolds. As you were once blinded to the world around you, your eyes are now opened to the darkness. Hear now the words I speak unto you and harken well for Lord Corath does not accept nor does he tolerate failure. Once sealed a follower of Corath one does not easily turn their backs upon the Dark Sun. To forsake the fail is to accept eternal pain and torture at his hands. So choose you now to walk in the light of the Dark Sun for there is no turning back.”
Priestess: “He who is keeper of the legions come forth and do thy task.”
Keeper of the Legions: “I am the Keeper of the Legions, Master and Commander of the forces of Lord Corath. Heed my words. To be a follower of the Dark Sun is know pain. Pain inflicted upon you as well as your enemies. Suffering, persecution and death are common amongst the followers of the Dark Sun.”
The general will then walk behind the kneeling initiates and with his sword cut their garments off their backs revealing their bare backs.
KotL: “Even as I rent these garments from you, may you be rent by the mad god should you forsake the oaths you take this unholy night. That you may never forget these oaths.” Takes out a cat of nine tails and lashes their backs with it three times. “The suffering of the followers of the Dark Sun,” * strikes initiates back * “Persecutions of the followers of the Mad god,” * strikes initiates back * “And the death rendered by the followers of the Keeper of the Dead.” * strikes initiates back then returns to his seat on the council. *
Priestess then steps back to the altar. “You have now tasted but a small part of what you will taste as a follower of Lord Corath. That you may be cleansed of all that you once were * casts dispel magic *, that your soul may be purged and reborn a new * casts negative energy * and that you may never forget to who you are bound * casts doom *. Bring forth the robes of the unholy. * The Oathmaker then comes forward and places the robes on the initiates. * "Read to them the oath."
Oathmaker: “I swear my loyalty and my very soul to the Keeper of the Dead, to be sealed up as one of his unholy followers, to walk the path of the dead. I swear my loyalty to the cult, that its members and I are now brothers and sisters in the faith of the Dark One, knowing that should I fail them, the cult, or the Dark Sun my life is forfeit and my soul damned. This I swear by my blood.”
Initiates respond.
Priestess: “So spoken so bound.”
Priestess then approaches the initiate and with the ceremonial dagger cuts the rope upon the persons’ wrist. Taking them by the hand and leading them into the circle of skulls. She then takes the ceremonial dagger and cuts a band in the initiate’s right bicep placing the scar. "Thus your oath is sealed with your blood, bound with this reminder of what you have sworn. Do not fail!"
Priestess: “I now release you from the bonds you once knew and seal your soul to Lord Corath, Keeper of the Dead, the White Skull."
The initiates are then each given a black hood to hide their identities from the world around them. They are instructed that at a later time they are deemed worthy they will receive their skulls and be accepted as a member of the council. Until then their every action is being watched.
*** Draft version to be read over and revised when I get a chance ***
*** Disclaimer – I am not satanic nor does this ceremony seek to belittle, harass or offend anyone. If this ceremony offends you, then my apologies. This is an RP ceremony to enhance the game experience. ***
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I am still recovering from the events of yesterday.
A man from Krandor came to Hlint looking for help. He claimed that an evil red fog was spreading forth from the crypts and killing all that came in contact with it. The wretched band of would be heros assembled and I followed along with them so that I could see this fog for myself. A red fog from a crypt is right up my alley. We arrived at Krandor to find exactly what the man had claimed the fog. Only he left out the most delightful part of the fog ... its power.
I could feel the power of the fog, the hatred ... the negative energy that it emited. It called to me and gave me strength. The fog surrounded me and it and I were as one. There was no doubt this was a design of Corath. Just to witness his power released upon this town was a specticle to behold. The terror and fear that it caused the townspeople and those who I accompanied.
I just laughed as they issued their threats against me. From the fog came forth undead creatures of remarkable power. I watched as they attacked without mercy upon the party of heros. Finally it was Plenarius that rallied the heros and plunged deep into the crypt. I remained behind on the surface to witness the destruction and chaos that the fog would cause. I watched as the people succumbed to vapors and slipped from this realm of mortallity. I could feel the energy grow within me with each victim the fog claimed.
I felt the lifeforce drained from several of the party members and I heard a shriek of laughter as even the they fell. I watched as the ghost pirate entered the fog and was immediately overcome.
Then it happened, a felt a sudden surge and the power was gone. It pulled on my lifeforce and took back what it had once given to me. I collapsed under the pain. I do not know how long I was unconcious. The next thing I remember is looking up to see the face of an elven woman. She had used her magic to revive me from my near death state. While the heros that only nearly escaped mocked my demise, and boasted of their own strength I pulled myself up and staggered back to the temple. What they don't know is that I was able to capture a sample of the fog .... Rufus will know how to best use this to our advantage.
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"Bonds that once were,
Darkness again shall stir.
Alliances from the past,
Restored to us at last.
Harken to the shadow's call,
Death speaks its voice to all."
These words haunt my dreams. I lie awake at night pondering them, I am consumed but their implications. I have sent forth the black letters. The plans of the Dark Sun have been set in motion. I must remember to thank Marcus for the clever magics he used on the letters.
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It has been accomplished, two more have joined the ever growing ranks of the unholy. They are now sealed as followers of Lord Corath. Their souls eternally bound to thier new god. I beheld as they took their blood oath how the powers of darkness sealed them and engraved upon thier very souls the darkness that is his. The darkness surrounded the Circle of Skulls and all present were filled with his unholy grace.
The names of those added this day:
Sargon Blackdagger, first apprentice of Rufus Coldfinger
Marcus Perrin
The Dark Alliance has once more come forth. The will of Lord Corath and Lord Baraeon Ca'duz to reestablish the great and dark alliance of our two peoples has been accomplished. This night is the beginning of darkness for the people of this world. Our power will grow and there is none to stop us. I will not list all those who attended this meeting, it is not prudent to name those who are allied with us.
Something must needs be done about the upstart Lieutenant of Llast. He is too nosy and will soon become a hidernace to our work. Should he continue to prod his nose into my affairs I will be forced to cut it from his curious face.
Upon the conclusion of the initiation we were visited by a man dressed in a black robe. I saw how Rufus bowed in his pressence. A priestess of Corath cowers to no mortal entity. I have come to understand that this man was one of the Black Wizards. His words I did find of some interest, "We have felt the darkness you have called upon this day and we approve of your undertakings, we will be watching you." If this man was indeed of the Black Wizards we have a powerful ally in our fight.
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As I walked from Llast towards Hlint, I was stopped this day by a man in black. He commanded me to tell him the location of Rufus Coldfinger. When I told him I knew not where he was he commanded that I bring him myself to Xantril to meet with the Black Wizards. Xantril, why would they want Rufus to come to Xantril ... and why am I to accompany him? He told me it would be painful should I fail to deliver Rufus as obliged. Pain ... what can he know of pain? I must find Rufus and tell him what has happened.
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The fog has returned, this time my lord has choosen the pitiful people of Hlint as his target. The red creeping fog issued from the crypts and poisoned the wells. The chaos of the town was overwelming... I felt the evil power of my lord passed us and reigned his unholy blessings down upon the people. Shortly I was greeted by a frantic Nethro and excited Marcus. They spoke each at the same time until I had a headache. I took them back to the temple and soon realized the implications of thier actions and the actions of our lord. It was then that I felt a chill and an inky darkness passed once more over the temple. I commanded them to take their places around the circle, they obeyed, but Marcus stepped through the circle. I would later learn, ... painfully of this infraction. Lord Corath demands exactness, and strict obedience in his rituals.
I felt Lord Corath pass near me, I was consumed in his wreath of dark flames and was compelled to offer sacrifice in his unholy name. It was then that 13 rats came to the ring of the circle of skulls and submitted themselves as a sacrifice. They were layed upon the altar and consecrated with the blood of three followers. When the proper ceremony was completed the altar was consumed with flames. Lord Corath had accepted our offering.
The building then shook violently and all strength was taken from my frame. I collapsed on the floor to the horror of Nethro. I could hear his voice as if calling to me down a long hallway, yet the darkness beckoned to me and I followed. I stepped forth through a doorway and gazed upon the world below me. A great red fog was creeping its way across the continents, riding on top of the fog was a great white skull wreathed in dark flames. I then saw the sun rise yet it gave forth no light. The sun shown darkness and the whole world was covered in a viel. The viel rained forth a plague upon the land. Black spots filled with puss that oozed forth I saw upon all the people. There was none but those who bore the mark of the skull who escaped the plague. The vision faded and I found myself awake but lacking strength to move. Nethro was there calling for me to not leave.
A voice spoke into my mind and demanded my attention. He spoke of pain should I fail to uphold the ceremonies as prescribed. He commanded that those who are his chosen vessels demand respect from thier followers. I have had to correct Marcus twice now ... should I have to a third time he will feel the wrath of priestess of Corath. I will not tolerate those who trangress. I have payed for his insolence and misdeeds, I will not pay for them again.
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Afterwards, when I had slightly recovered, Nethro wished to speak with me. He took me aside and confessed his feelings for me. I did not know what to say. Perhaps he took my silence as a negative and asked if he should leave. Leave? I do not think I could continue with the calling to which I am ascribed without his strength to uphold me. He spoke of love .... what is love? Foreign at best it is to one such as myself. But I can not bare the thought that Nethro not be near me. He offered me a ring adorned with a black oynx as a promise of what we may become togethor. I told him that my devotion unto Lord Corath would ever come first. He sayed he expected nothing less from me, and would be content with any space in my heart left for him. With those words I accepted his ring. I do not know what love is .... but I think Nethro can show this to me. Surely Lord Corath will approve the union of two devout followers, uniting thier strengths and becoming as one. The potential and the power we promise unto him is sure to please.
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The Ritual of Blood
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This ritual is used to invoke the blessings of Lord Corath before a battle, to give praise after a victory, or as a sign of devotion. The Ritual of Blood should not be confused with the Ritual of Sacrifice. The Ritual of Blood is a sign of praise and respect to Lord Corath, while the later ritual is used to call upon the power of Lord Corath for darker deeds. As in all ceremonies of the Mad God, a Priestess of High Priestess officiates and leads the followers in the ritual. The ritual begins with the Priestess taking her place at the edge of the Circle of Skulls, any council members present will take their places around the circle, all other followers will kneel in their appointed places. The Priestess will then lead the followers in appealing to Lord Corath in prayer. Upon completion of the prayer she will step into the Circle of Skulls and begin the Ritual of Blood. The Priestess calls for the blood to be brought forth. The appointed follower then brings the offering to the edge of the Circle of Skulls and hands it to the Priestess. She then places the offering of blood upon the altar. The Ritual must be performed while the blood of the offering is still warm. She then calls for the first follower to come forth. The Priestess rolls up the right sleeve of the follower and takes his right hand and pricks the finger of the follower with the ceremonial dagger. She then milks the finger allowing the blood to drip onto the offering. The process is repeated for a second follower. The Priestess then uses the dagger on herself and drips her blood upon the offering. She repeats the following words; “By the blood of three with invoke thee, with this blood let us satisfy thee.” The Priestess then kneels in the center of the Circle of Skulls and offers a prayer of dedication.
Appropriate Offerings
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An appropriate offering to Lord Corath is always blood of a creature killed at the hands of His followers. The offering will be 13 of these creatures, killed within the last hour. The blood must be warm within the creature. The larger the volume of blood offered the greater the blessings given by Lord Corath.
Ritual of Sacrifice
*****
One of the most unholy rituals of the church of Corath. Used to summon forth the power of Lord Corath. This is only performed by a High Priestess and then only in rare circumstance where great power is needed. This ceremony is most often used to summon greater demons of the Abyss, or in preparing a soul for lichdom. The sacrifice used for this Ritual is a virgin of human or elven descent. The sacrifice is tied down upon the altar face up. It is important that the sacrifice be of good health and a vessel of purity. The High Priestess will perform a ceremonial cleansing of herself before beginning the Ritual. She then begins the ceremony in the normal fashion by appealing for the blessings of Lord Corath. All members of the council must be present for this ceremony to take place. The High Priestess then enters into the Circle of Skulls and begins the Ritual of Sacrifice. The clothes are first cut from the sacrifice using the ceremonial dagger. Next using the blade the High Priestess will cut a line from the breastbone to the navel of the sacrifice. The sacrifice is then eviscerated, but left alive. The evisceration must be done in such a manner to inflict maximum pain while keeping the sacrifice alive. She then speaks the words, “We commit this virgin most fare and pure to your honor mighty one, feast upon her pain and suffering. Follow her screams, and her pleads for death to this thy unholy temple.” She then takes the dagger and cuts the trachea of the sacrifice so they cannot breathe, yet remain alive. The High Priestess then reaches into the cavity of the sacrifice and pulls the heart of the victim from their chest. If this ceremony is used in preparation of Lichdom, they who are to become a Lich is then called to Altar and bade to take a bite of the heart of the sacrifice. Otherwise the High Priestess will hold it in her hand and with her other hand pierce the heart, and her own hand with the ceremonial dagger, pushing the dagger through until it protrudes from the back of her hand so that her blood and the sacrifices become one. She then removes the blade and slices the jugular of the victim ending their live. With the blade still dripping with the blood of the sacrifice she holds the dagger high over her head and speaks these words, “This sacrifice we commend to thee, Bless this unholy act and hear our plea. This blood is a symbol of our devotion, grant us our desires.” The High Priestess will then ask for what is wanted of Lord Corath.
Upon conclusion, all the organs are then gathered and placed in special jars, similar to those used in mummification, and given along with the corpse to the Oathmaker for raising the creature to undeath.
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This one is for Cattery -- more to your liking?
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The dreams continue. What purpose do they hold ... some power has awakened and speaks to me. These visions, preminisions of what will soon come to pass. This time I saw the skull more clearly, the fog seemed to eminate from it, and I could see that within the dark sockets of its eyes were glowing green gems. The gems were mulitfacited and resembled emeralds. As the skull faded from my view, from the fog came a shadowy figure of a man. The man was clad from head to toe in black robes. As he came nearer to me, he raised his head to look at me. I could see the green glow of his eyes under the hood. He raised his hand to point at me and the robes fell back from off his hand to reveal his skeletal form. He hissed forth the following words, "Xantril". Then the vision faded and I returned to my senses. I must get to Rufus and see my task through.
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It seems of late that a few select groups have taken notice of the cult. The only one that concerns me is Aeridin. Four times he sent his minions to vanquish us in the caverns of ice. Yet these attempts were in vain. I am most impressed with the development of this Belecthor Saeras. He shows great potential, perhaps he will someday rival Nethro for a place at my right hand. *stops writing a moment and chuckles* I should like to see him challenge Nethro ... it would be a most entertaining contest.
*****
Marcus and I met with a wandering man named Xander. He spoke as if he was a devout of the dark path, yet his understanding and his use of words leads me to believe differently. I sense something different about him. He spoke of having similar visions that I have had. But what perplexes me most is how he found out about the meeting in Hlint. I believe there is a mole in our midsts. I must watch and wait ... this mole will reveal himself in due time. This Xander is merely the informant that will lead me to the source of the leak. When I find this .. person ... they will wish they never heard the name of Chanda. I will unleash eternal torment down upon them ... they will call to me for their death but death will not hear them. I will not be played for a fool. I know to whom the mole reports, I just now need to find the middleman.
*****
A second visit from the man in black has compelled me to once again find Rufus and drag him if I must to Xantril. I wonder if these visions I am having have anything to do with this black robed man. Another vision I had will in the attitude of prayer last night. This time I could hear the words that before I could not. The creature in black said, "Bring me more souls". Prehaps it is time for two more souls join our flock ....
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Milara ... so he has returned. I still find it hard to believe that Ramanon had know idea with whom he spoke. But it was no accident nor coincidence that Milara revealed himself to Ramanon. He was meant to bring the news of Milara's return to me. This news brings togethor many parts of the puzzle that have troubled my mind of late. Greatest of which was the man in my dreams. I know now him to be Milara, the visions foretold his coming. Now I must decide how to use this information to our benefit. This is a great boon to my cause, for while Quin and his pitiful army worries about what I am doing they will be totally blinded to the coming of Milara. He will crush them under his feet, there is none that will be able to stop him.
Yet, Albert has raised an interesting concept to me thoughts. It seems that Quin, Plenarius, and Celgar have made a folly that must be capitalized upon. When the battle does come we will strike at them where it will cause them the most pain, the most suffering, and the most chaos. And while in their state of confusion they will become easy prey, for there souls will be crushed leaving only their physical forms to deal with.
Albert was able to reconfirm some thoughts that have been upon my mind of late, but I still think that I shall speak with Ozy at the first available oppurtunity.
-
Even as I write this my blood still boils in anger. He has jeopardized all that I have worked for, all that I have strived to build. His mouth flaps as a sheet in the wind. He will learn to control his tongue and I shall be his instructor. The insolent fool, not only did he threaten the entire city but he risked the life of two other members of the cult. This is twice he has failed me ... there will not be a third time. I have sent Marcus and Kit to find him that I may extract the punishment demanded by Lord Corath.
****
He has been found and the justice of Lord Corath has been met. Yet the suffering he has endured this day is nothing in comparrison to that which he will receive by our lord should he fail once more. His flesh has paid for his wagging tongue and his severed arm will serve to remind him of the cost for his transgression. My whip bit into his flesh creating its mark upon his back. The rage I felt as I beat upon Nethro was quite consuming. The sound of his pain, filled the chamber, and incited more rage into me. He shall not forget the folly of angering a priestess of Corath.
It appears Lord Corath is appeased in this for the altar did accept the offering of flesh, devouring the arm and filling the chamber with the smell of death. Marcus, Wmeky, and Kit were all in attendance ... it is my hope that the image of what Nethro has endured is emblazed into their minds. For thus is the consequence of failing Lord Corath. Failure is not tolerated, failure will be punished.
-
Things are progressing very well with the young drow. She has now learned to speak the human language. Kit has done well in this task. I spoke late into the night with Anayama, discerning the depth of her desires. I see much potential in this young one. But will she be choosen by Lord Corath, the seeds are within her, she can become quite powerful and indeed a strong binding of the alliance. She will stand beside me as we wreck havoc and chaos upon this land. The key will be fostering the hatred she has for her former allies .... Aeridinites.
Why do I keep that blundering fool around? Even in his attempts to please he fails. Perhaps not fail .... but definatly confuse the issues. I thought I understood the message he delivered to me, but when I spoke on this matter to Serenity it seems his lack of understanding of the issues muttled the message. Yet I have heard that he desires to now sit upon my lefthand ... we shall see. What I was able to understand from his blubbering was that an event of epic porpotions is coming, the moon will be bathed in blood for six days, in which time the Concordant Powers of Good must perform three tasks to prevent Blood from increasing his power. This must coincide with the urgency of Rufus' meeting. Perhaps the Black Wizards are "Those" necromancers to which Serenity refered.
I believe I will be drawn by both sides to aid in their fight. My oath to Lucinda in predicated upon the will of Lord Corath. As Serenity put it, "Blood desires to dethrown all the gods, even though Corath is at the bottom of the list, he is still on the list." I must pray upon this issue, this along with the upcoming initiation my mind is quite heavy. Having a second Priestess to the Mad One will be of great worth to this cult.
-
I felt something, dark and ominous moving nearby. What it was I did not yet know but like the moth to the flame its presence drew me closer. I walked along oblivious to all that was around me. In fact, looking back now I do not think I even finished my conversation with Mong. I must seek him out and finish the conversation; I believe it was of some importance … I digress. It was as if I walked through Hlint with blinders on; past the temple of Illsare, through the barley field. As I walked I could feel the darkness growing until I reached the well. There stood Anayama, the dark energy was focused around her.
She spoke of just having helped a young injured girl, which puzzled me as to why she would do such a thing. Yet my attention was diverted to the growing energy that I truly did not focus on her actions. I kneeled to her level and removed her hood. I grabbed her head and starred into her eyes. I could feel the darkness within her calling to be freed. I placed my hand upon her chest and began to chant, words that I have never before uttered, yea even words I do not now even comprehend. Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming sensation of energy as the darkness closed in around us.
We seemed to travel through time and space, where and when we arrived I do not know. But our journey ended eventually on a pedestal surrounded by darkness. Yet even to call it darkness is an understatement. This place we had arrived at was devoid of light, it seemed to suck all light into it. There was no sound, no light, and no time. How long we remained in this place I know not. We dared not venture from the platform. To yell sounded like as a mere whisper. There was nothing.
After what seemed like an eternity a glow seemed to near, the darkness seemed to repeal at his approach. The being came forth and stood upon the platform. He was dressed head to toe in armor of solid black, a blade that glowed with the energy of the damned was drawn at his side. His voice seemed to pierce the void. He demanded to know why Anayama was there, one as weak as she. He then bade her take the blade that had appeared at her feet and thrust it into the chest of the most unworthy. She then did something that defied all that I have taught her. She thrust the blade into her own chest and fell to the platform lifeless. The entity then said, “One who lacks confidence in themselves considering themselves inferior to others is an unworthy servant.” He then vanished into the void.
Suddenly, there was a burst of light and a woman clothed in light, with wings of white appeared on the platform. Before I could even stand to confront her I fell to the ground, I watched, as my corpse lay motionless upon the platform.
I looked all about yet there was nothing but darkness around me. Below me I could see that the celestial being had restored Anayama to life and was conversing, then they both disappeared. I was left alone in the great expanse of void.
The next thing I remember was a pulling sensation and the darkness was gone. There I lay in a field outside of Hlint with a group of strangers looking at Anayama and I. Anayama did not move, I was just starting to my feet when I saw Celgar standing over her corpse. He began the incantation to restore her spirit to her frame, just as he finished and she began to breath once more a surge of darkness overcame him and he collapsed dead where he stood.
The crowd that had now formed urged me to heal the man as Anayama fled towards Hlint. Did they really think I would heal him? The fools … let his corpse become the food of the maggots. They tried to pressure me and even made threats against me. The insolent fools. A Priestess of Corath does not cower to them they are dross to me. It was then that Plenarius came upon the scene and cast his restoration upon Celgar. The light blinded my site. It was only through the dark energy that I was able to stumble my way to the temple.
There was no need to have Anayama explain her failure; it was all clear to me. I could see what had transpired in her eyes. She had failed because she did not know Lord Corath or his ways. She looked hopeful to the faith of Lord Corath, while still holding to the ways of Aeridin. She was not worthy of the mantle of priestess. He doubts turned out to be her weakness and her downfall.
I have counseled with Anayama. She seems determined to prove her worth and someday take upon her the mantle. We shall see. We shall see
-
Who is the Soul Mother? Regardless of who or what she really is, I do not think I would like to test the resolve of the High Mage. To be consumed by the essence of the Soul Mother does not sound like a pleasurable experience. As such both Rufus and I have expressed to the members of the alliance that they will all but disappear to the world above. All emblems and tokens of the faith will no longer be blazened for the world to see. And should any of my followers lose mastery of themselves or of any one of their bodily functions I will be there in a flash to bring said function into check. If they can not control their tongues then I will keep it for them safe where I can control it. The darkness grows, the hour nears for the dawning of the Dark Sun. It is only a matter of time ...
-
The visions continue ... a premonition of things to come ... a foreboding to the enemies of the Dark Sun. The vision is the same as always. The red mists swirl through my head and surround me. Through the darkness I see a white skull. It peers at me and gazes into my very soul. In the darkness shapes move. It is then that my mind travels to a land across the sea, it becomes clear to me that the land is Dregar. A wave of darkness washes over me as the darkness takes the form of an ancient black box. The box is covered in ruins, deplicting the final victory of the Mad God. The darkness and malignant energy issues forth from this box, leaving a wake of destruction where ever it goes.
It is then that the box begins to move, it hastens through the forests of Dregar. It soon becomes clear that the box is being chased by a form of light. The light restores all that the box destroyes. The light radiants with the faith of Katia. It chases the dark box over the sea to another land, a land filled with dark and foreboding jungles. Deep into the jungle the chase continues. The box is making much haste but the light continues to close in on the box.
Just as the box reaches a ancient crypt it is overcome by the light and bursts sending forth a wave of energy that destroyes all the undead across the land. The vision then fades back into the red mists and ends abruptly.
Whatever the meaning of this dream is, there can be no doubt to what my role is in it. The box must not be taken by the followers of light. We must intercept it and if possible recover the box before it falls into the hands of the enemy.
-
The premonitions that I have had are beginning to become fullfilled. It seems that this little box has caused quite the stir. The mists arose in Hlint and a group was formed to search out the nature of the mist. An unatural storm arose far to the east in the lands of Dregar. It was as if two powers were colliding and waging a war. As the adventurers formed in Hlint, lead by Rhizome, it all became suddenly clear to me what must be done. This black box could not fall into the hands of the enemy. The five of us, Marcus, Nethro, Caldiir, Kit and I, set off at once to beat the party to the box. Not knowing the true nature of the artifact we sought out Ozy.
Ozy seemed quite different than his normal story telling self. He required a payment for his tale. There is a festering darkness within Ozy, what devices this bard holds is yet to be seen. What I have learned is that the tales of Ozy are often diluted and manipulated to his own will. This would be rather clear as our journey was set forward.
To Rilara our party flew, knowing that Rhizome's band would not be too far behind. Onward we spead to the Bone Hill only to find that our interpretation of Ozy's tale was incorrect. We would follow the growing darkness that now was forming over the Kingdom of Rodriem. It was there that the Bard met us once more. More riddles, more tales and off he set towards the crypt of my vision. The way was quite perilous and Ozy prooved to be difficult to follow, leaving only minor clues and riddles to guide us. Where Nethro and Caldiir wandered to, I do not know. Thus it was that the three of us finally deciphered the clues of Ozy and arrived at the Watch Tower. In a matter of only a few hours the band of Rhizome arrived.
The tension was rather thick as both groups stood there. We were obviously out-manned, but not with out firepower. An unease truce has ensued as we wait to enter the tower.
**************
Last night the strangest encounter I believe I have had to date took place. It was late and the parties had each settled in for the night. Through the dance of the fire upon the rocky cliffs I could see that Rhizome was up and stirring about. What he did next still has me in shock. He asked to speak with me away from the parties. We walked for several minutes along the rocky shoal of the coastline until we came to a small wind protected outcrop of rocks with a view of the camp and tower below.
He seemed to know of the truce that exists between Serenity and I. This seemed to please him. His next question to me has caused me much reflection.
"Chanda, if you obtain the box will you use it to reestablish a temple to Corath and embrace the new avatar of Corath?"
There is no need for me to recount here all the ensueing dialog. Suffice it to say that he wishes the box to be opened and the spirit of Arakanor Lightbane released, thus allowing the rightful avatar, Nathan Birche to be restored. He is willing to help me obtain the box on the condition that; 1) I seek not to open the sealed tomb of the Broken Forest; and, 2) I respect the bond of friendship with him. The problem with this is that he wishes it released, not allowing me to possess the box. Plenarius will never allow this box to be recovered by the alliance, nor will I allow it to be destroyed. If the essence of Arakanor is released all the minions of Lord Corath will be destroyed.
We parted company agreeing to meet agian soon when we both have had a chance to think more on the outcome of the box. Of this I am sure ... to allow the box to fall into the hands of Katia is to accept failure ... this I can not do. I must speak with Kit in the morning to devise a plan.
-
There can be no other way. The other options will not work or will draw too much attention to us when we succeed. I have tasked Kit with making the necessary preparations for the vessel. The Unholy Champion of Corath will require a vessel to reside within. I know not how long my strength will be able to contain his essence. But it is the only way. This will prove my faith and loyalty to the Dark Sun. I will not fail to do his bidding.
*returns to the circle of skulls to continue her cleansing and preparations to receive the essence of Arakanor Lightbane within her.*
-
I have failed. I was unable to secure the black box from Rhizome and Plenarius. There can be no excuse; there can be no regret. I will accept the punishment that Lord Corath deems for me. Failure is not tolerated. Yet, even in failure I will prove my loyalty. For this is but another test, will I abandon the faith at the first test or will I stand firm and committed to the Lord of Darkness. There can be no doubt; to renounce my faith now would invoke the wrath of my Lord.
Yet though I failed to obtain the box, I was permitted to stand in the presence of the Avatar of Lord Corath. I felt the pure evil that radiated from him. It wrapped around him as vapors of mist. His voice was as the screams of a thousand dead. Had I not been worthy he would have destroyed me outright. In this there is promise.
I have spent the last few days in the company of Ozy. Much have I learned from him, and much still I have to learn. For with Ozy one learns through their questioning him. Yet he leaves the recipient to discern the meaning of his words. Ozy has explained the nature of Arakanor and several others of the faith. It seems that the first Avatar of Corath was Asamalic, better known as Emerald the Skull, although this was made based upon the sheer power and influence he held. For Lord Corath was compelled to make him thus. Arakanor Lightbane sought the same path to become an avatar, but did so falsely and thus failed in his attempt. The first true Avatar is The Dark Sun. Ozy explained that it is he who dealt with Rhizome.
Many other things I have discussed with Ozy, the most interesting of which seems to be what would have happened should I had obtained the box from Rhizome. Two alternatives would have transpired; the first, if I had opened the box within the light as Rhizome and I had planned, the outcome would have destroyed all of us. On this point Ozy was surprisingly quite clear, thus I do not doubt him. The second alternative would have been should if The Dark Sun had commanded me to give him the box. There is no doubt in my mind that should he have bade me give the box to him that I would have obliged his will. But in doing this, the outcome would have been the same; The Dark Sun would have unleashed the box destroying all present ... except maybe Ozy. This leads me to wonder if I have indeed failed my Lord. For had I been destroyed I would no longer be a piece in the game.
A piece in the game, all are pieces moved to and fro by the movers. The Master Meddler had an interesting vision on this ... I asked him "Would the death of Ozy be a minor move in the game?" It was possible the first time I believe that Ozy has been asked a question regarding his death. For he has seen his death at the hands of his own son, Legacy. There can be no doubt that the loss of Ozy would bring much joy to some and extreme sorrow to others. Yes I believe a loss of Ozy would be a major shift of the pieces. It would cause much more change than say the death of Rhizome or Plenarius. Ozy said Rhizome's time is short lived; he will not be a piece much longer. It seems that his appointment to High Druid of Seilwood is both a curse and boon. The greatest of Aeridin have been sacrificed to restore the great oaks in times passed. So it is that Rhizome will soon be required to make the very same sacrifice.
Perhaps I will one day inquire of the diviner how I will be called to meet my Lord. Until such time as he calls me to his side, I remain devoted to my calling of Priestess.
-
It appears that the rumors of the Drow massing is true. The Underdark grows restless and the hour of their attack is nigh. This was confirmed to me by Navarre. The time for the unification of the Underdark is at hand. This accounts for the message that all faithful drow return to their homes. Baeron Ca'duz has choosen me to be an integral part of the attack on the continent of Mistone. This is my chance to regain standing amongst both faiths. I dare not scribe the role which I am to take in this conquest for fear that this journal fall into the enemies hands. Suffice it to say that Kit has been charged with ensuring that I do not fail, and should I fail he is to end my miserable existence. Marcus, Kit and I have begun researching what will be required to fullfill our task, it will not be easy but we shall succeed. I have assumed the identity of Lily Raines from Lorindar. With Kit being my mute sparring partner named Reginald. Marcus is to use the name of Johann Steinke. For the time being I must play a role unfamiliar to my nature. A follower of Aeridin here learning fighting techniques, accompanied by my mute half-brother.
I am a bit perplexed at Navarre's declaration to Rhizome of the iminent attacks. I always thought The Left Hand Black valued subilty and intrigue in his servants tactics. But I suppose I still have much to learn of the teachings of Baeron Ca'duz. Navarre made a very pointed example of my "alternatives" to serving the Baeron in this matter. As perhaps a priest might put it, "There are many hatchlings in each brood of spiders. One can never hope to kill all of them."
-
The events of these most recent days have caused me much reflection ... and anguish. I feel as if the whole world knows who I am, for both good and bad. Three times in as many days have I had a visit from unexpected sources. While at first I thought them related it appears that the drow are weaving many webs upon the surface. At least from what I can tell I seem to be trusted and in the favor of these drow.
I have come to rely upon the strength and the knowledge of Kit. More times than I like to consider has he been the means of my rescue. Even Xander could not have seen that Kit would prove to be my greatest ally. This is not at all to discredit the loyalty shown by Marcus Perrin. For it is these two only in whom I now fully trust and confide. The words spoken by the woman Lithany echo through my mind. "Nethro is an idiot, I made my mistake by trusting you two and an idiot." I have never seen Kit brought to the true rage that his people are known for like I did upon the revelation of Nethro's wagging tongue. Openly declaring that he was the one to deliver a message for Lithany! Her declaration of the demise of Nethro is a fact I am certain of.
The note ... black, the words written in blood tied together with an ornate ribbon and engraved emblem. Such an oddity to find floating in a well in Hlint. The words of the letter paint an even stranger picture. Was this note meant for me? Or did the powers that be know I would be the one to fetch the water from the well. Regardless the message is quite clear in what I am to do. "Stay lower than grass, for it hides you well, the Watcher hunts you from Hell. ... the drinker of souls has come once more. --S" Who is this Watcher and why have I come to his attention ... assuming the note was meant for me to read? Who is 'S'? Kit showed the note to Rhizome, perhaps he can make sense of things.
What did Quin want with Wmeky? This to has been heavy on my mind during the few moments that I could spare to consider it. And why has Wmeky not reported to me of late? My disguise seemed to work well enough to fool even Quin thus allowing me to see them speaking. I believe that Wmeky no longer rides the fence between the conflicts. I must speak with Rufus soon and advise him of what transpires.
But these matters both a minor in comparison to the greater issue at hand. Why was the dark mage seeking me? If not for the aid of Kit I would still be lying in the mud of that outpost. Yet even as we fled he was able to overcome me. Who is this dark mage and why does he seek me? Too many questions ... How does the mage fit in with the drow messenger? Who is Lue Lightfinger and what is this Silver Vial we are to deliver? *An inkblot follows this question as Chanda collapses from exhaustion and fatigue. She awakens to find the journal closed with the ink and quill placed neatly upon the journal, with a blanket drapped over her shoulders.*
-
I must say sometimes I can even surprise myself with my cleverness. I did not truely expect him to accept my offer, I even asked him a second time to be sure that I heard him correctly. Daron was willing to trade his soul to my Lord in exchange for my raising from the dead his fallen giant-ogre friend. I must say the chaos and fear that ran rampide in the streets was delightful when my Lord sent his servant to collect on the arrangment. The Harvestor of Souls came and claimed the soul of Daron. May Lord Corath see my deed and find favor in my actions.
It seems that Tom, the adopted son of Plenarius and Brisbane, wishes to aid his sick mother. He approached me desiring that I fullfill the offer I have made to him many times. There is much potential in this child. Children are so easily shaped and formed into what one desires. He wishes to refine the minor skills he possesses in the art of subterfuge. I have promised to set up a meeting between he and Caldiir. The irony is that he wishes to aid in the fight against the Drow. I must speak with Caldiir on weither he will take an apprentice.
Tom departed and I found myself soon encircled by a band of Drow hunters. One in particular annoyed me to no end. He demanded I remove my hood so that he could judge weither I was Drow or not. Who does he think he is? No one makes demands of a Priestess of Corath, if there had not been a crowd I may not have been so restrained. These ignorant people, no wonder the Drow will bring them into subjection. When they let ignorant brutes like this Alti lead them in their decision making. The embasil had not common sense enough to lower his scythe with the lightning striking in Hlint. I do not think he will forget his ... shocking experience.
Kit and I left him to sizzle upon the tower. Lord Corath was indeed with us as we happened into the camp to find Lue Lightfinger sitting by the fire. She had gotten my note. We agreed to meet at her residence in Leilon. We had to give a man dressed in black the slip and we soon arrived at her home. Under the cover of invisiblity, Kit watched my conversation with Lue.
I have learned from Lue that this silver vial is a component required to forge the legendary Blade of Shadows. The only person capable of forging the blade is an unnamed dwarf in Arabel. Lue wishes that this vial be given to him for safe keeping. I made no such promises, only that I would do as Lord Corath bade me. Though the words of Serenity still resound within my mind, "Corath may not be at the top of Blood's list of enemies, but none-the-less he is upon the list." Not long after departing the company of Lue, Kit and I were once again met by the drow. He asked if I had it. When I told him I did not he spake his warning that I was being watched, so what else is new ...
-
I stood in a garden of stones; a place that seemed devoid of time, yet time was of its very nature, a place of mysteries and truths, a place of prophecies. How Ozy had found me, how he had known, how much he knows ... questions that I do not know the answers to. We spoke for what seemed like an eternity, though in a place such as this time has no meaning. The chessboard, the scorpion, the mirrors and the sword; secrets and truths.
Ozy explained much of what he knew of this place and much of what he had discerned. Yet the question that perplexes me the most is the one I asked him. Why have you brought Chanda the minor priestess of Corath to this place? His answer has been upon my mind ever since.
"It was the best time to do so. Any sooner and you would not have understood, any later and you would have decided upon other things."
"Like the vial."
"Precisely."
I have learned much from this visit, some things have been revealed while others confirmed. One thing is clear now, the board is moving and my lord moves as a piece clad in white. Corath is no longer upon the bottom of the list of enemies of Blood. He has sent his general, Dreznab, to hunt for me. What potential he sees, what he fears of me, I do not yet know. But I now realize the importance of the Blade of Shadows, and why I must see to this vial. I must soon again meet with Lue Lightfinger and learn of the ordeal, if the Drow have not found her.
****
The venom continues to claim its prize. Just as Navarre has promised the way will be clear for the Queen’s Bishop to Check and finally mate. Those pieces that would thwart the checkmate are no longer a threat. Those not inflicted with the soul venom, are prevented from fighting with fear of the repercussions felt against their loved ones.
The tension is growing as the greatest hero’s of Hlint are helpless. Each and every time I have walked in Hlint I have been set upon by the fears and prejudices of those who remain untouched by the venom. To date I have not found them any smarter than a doorknob, and thus have been able to outwit their petty assumptions and accusations.
I still await the start of the game.
-
The game has begun, yet even as the game begins the end lies closer than ever. As more and more of the pieces become pinned upon this chess board, it becomes increasingly easier to deliver the check upon the opponent. Two rooks and the Queen's Bishop are all that will be needed to checkmate and end the game. The check has been initiated by the King's Bishop, and passed to the King's Rook. Final preparations are being planned for the checkmate. There is no way for white to prevent the checkmate. King's Rook is to ensure the promotion of one of King's pawns before the checkmate.
*****
It seems that Nethro has been poisoned, though this does not come as a surprise to me, it is an unexpected move by these drow. Perhaps this is Lithany's way of getting retrobution, or perhaps she doesn't trust his decision making process. *pauses a moment* It seems we have quite a bit in common.
Brisbane grows inquisitive as to the nature of my involvement in current events. She pressed me for information and even brought up the name of Navarre. I side stepped her questions but I sense she saw through my ploe. I must say I will be glad when tasks are completed.
-
What is the value of a spy? How far can his words be trusted ... or can they be trusted at all? I believe, as always I must temper my emotions with regards to the information that I have been given by Wmeky. His words ring with a measure of truth yet confounds the logic I have come to understand.
In the halls of the courthouse we met behind closed doors. For a time we stared at each other, each of us searching the face of the other for words not spoken. He told the tale of Navarre and his desires to find a bride. In the midst of all that is happening I find it rather poor timing. It seems that he has commanded each of the major houses of the city of Olist Orbinn to select a bride for him. The chosen one will become the vessel for the return of the true Dark Mistress. Only she who is chosen can wear the Diadem of Souls. What power this amulet holds I know not.
In the logic of Wmeky, Milara seeks to destroy the Great Gold Rofirein, by thus doing he will ensure his ascension. He is using the drow to weaken the continent of Mistone so he can achieve this end. In turn the drow are using the alliance. There can be only one reason as to why the drow would seek out a priestess of Corath to do their bidding, a scapegoat. The reaction of Kit on this matter speaks volumes that this came as a revelation to him. I believe he is being played a fool as much as the rest of the alliance. Perhaps Wmeky is trying to poison the alliance against itself, perhaps his words have a measure of truth, and we shall see which proves to be the course.
It bothered me that Wmeky would come forward with this information at this time. He said he had used his Sava roll, he had chosen to break the rules of the drow game. What bothers me the most about his accusations against Kit and Caldiir are that I have seen no inclination of such desire from them. Not that I would put it past them, but if Kit desired my position in the alliance he could have it and should I fall there will not be anything left for him to rebuild. He needs the Corathites as much as we need him at this moment.
After gathering what knowledge I could from Wmeky I confronted Kit with the knowledge I had obtained. He took much of the knowledge as a surprise, weather it was an act ... I don't think so. It was while I was in the manner of probing the desires of Kit that Lithany once again visited us. She told me that I was to meet one of the women that had been selected by a house of Olist Orbinn. I am to meet with Katrien and answer her questions. Lithany was clear to how much I was to answer and with what measure of truth; I am to be myself and follow the teachings of my god. The drow would expect no less.
Kit then began to question Lithany upon the knowledge I had just presented to him. Would the drow be able to repel and attack by the armies of Milara? Her answer:
"You do not see what we see, right now we do not seek conquest. Our taking of Spellguard was for another purpose. Plans are being laid to reach the surface in force, yours is one. Right now Allurial is in Xantril, she cannot resist the fall of Spellguard. When she returns she will leave every force to move us. The seven sisters are not to be taken lightly. She will be gone a short time longer. Your next task will involve more of what I speak now. Dregar and Rilara are easy to imprison and take compared to Mistone. Mistone has much the others do not. Allurial, shifter, many many people of power, it will be a challenge and one digested a piece at a time."
It seems the webs of the drow have their many eyes on other things. Yet the promise she made to Kit before she left still bothers me ... "After this is over you will have the place you have earned. No more and no less." What is this place that Kit has earned? Does this speak in harmony with what Wmeky had said? I have contacted Marcus and put him on his guard incase the drow and Kit decide that they have no more use for me.
Always have back-up plans ... perhaps one of the vials of poison delivered into the proper hands would hedge my bet. Such a vial would go far for developing an antidote for the people. Such a vial could be worth a lot of gold in the proper hands. Perhaps it is time I spoke with Quin and prepare an avenue of protection. As Lithany said, Corathites will be Corathites.
-
How did they know? How could they have known? Every preparation was made to prevent them from finding out. Perhaps it was Quin who let the secret slip or his spy Wmeky. Regardless, somehow they drow knew the move we were to make. Conveniently, Kit was the one that suggested us keeping one vial as insurance. Though he was not privy to my plans regarding Quin, he seemed to fall right into my plan. But, this seems little more than a mute point; there are no more vials of the poison. Apparently the drow did not trust us any more than we trusted them. They sent their assassin to tail us and ensure that we completed the task. How they found us, I know not. There will be no deal made with Quin ... the people of Mistone will endure the full fury of the poison. I have done what I can to aid Quin; he is not a man of many brains to be certain. He must be led by the nose to the facts. For his sake and the sake of the people of Mistone, for their blood is no longer on my hands, let all hope that Mirren can decipher the warning I left for them to ponder.
"Beware the tears of Katia. Take no comfort in the life they bring."
For my part I have accomplished my task, in a word CHECKMATE. The fountains of Hlint, Velensk, and Hampshire are now infected with the poison of the drow. Though the victory seems quite hollow and not with out its price. The unholy hand of Lord Corath has restored me restored to life. Marcus spoke of the condition I was in when he found me in Hope. My partially consumed heart lie smashed upon the ground, a gaping hole was visible in my chest and I lay in a puddle of my own blood. He carried me invisible back to the safe house and laid me down within the circle of skulls. My blood must have enticed my lord to restore his servant. I am made whole once more with only the last words of the drow ringing in my ears, "Did you think to fool the drow?" I will show these drow the meaning of the word ... vharcan.
******
I have spoken with the bard; his timing for such things is uncanny. But his message this day was solemn and remains still with me.
"The Great dragon god has been attacked, you must defeat the scorpion before he rises and takes his place, but not before protecting the gods. If they fall he rises, you must battle him on Layonara for only on Layonara may the water be unleashed. Lucinda was struck and when one strikes the lady of magic, magic suffers and so do all the other gods. She must be defended, as must the mad one for should the Ascender learn his secret many will perish. What I granted to you this day is what I have granted to no other, but perhaps you do not yet know what was granted. There is another that must be rebuked first. The great oak was captured and stricken for many years. Lucinda was torn. I will let you decide who is next. Knowledge, life, magic and death. Which is next? Two can beat the one, but so long as all remain divided the Ascender will gain the gold. Do not let death be taken off the board more then you would let life or magic."
His words are spoken in riddle and much of what he spoke is understood to me. There is no doubt that the next the scorpion will attack is Death. The powers that he could achieve but such an attack would grant him the strength he needs to overcome Rofirein. To this end I have contacted Rhizome, as was my bond to Serenity, such is my bond with Rhizome. Twice now has Ozy spoken the necessity for the gods to set aside their disagreements. Ozy does not speak without purpose. Together Rhizome and I will lead Life and Death to overcome the Scorpion and preserve Lucinda. For all are dependant on her weave.
The viper now sits poised to strike, the scorpion has begun his assault and Ozy has confirmed to me the spider within the web. To defeat the drow we must entangle them in their own web. For it is as Wmeky spoke, the scorpion drives the spider. Before his departure Ozy left me with one last piece of knowledge:
"Those that watched no longer do. There is one other in the world like shifter. That one is not the one it was in the past and as things stand now will not be what is of the future. Find that one and change the path. A single pebble can break the damn and change the course, a single grain of sand can create a single ripple and a single ripple can overwhelm all."
-
I was pleasantly surprised this day to receive a message from an old friend. He had been away for quite sometime. His absence was cause of great anxiety for me. So it was my relief when a familiar black feline came bounding through the woods and nearly knocked me off my feet. It seemed that he too had missed the woods of Mistone and familiar faces. He bore a note from his master who wished to see meet with me in Hlint. With a nod and a pat on the panther’s sleek back off he ran to tell Rufus I was coming to see him.
With a brief interchange of pleasantries we retired to the local inn and found ourselves seats in a dark and secluded corner of the smoke filled establishment. No one seemed to notice our presence there, which was fine as far as we were concerned. There we sat discussing all that had transpired since Rufus' departure east to Xantriel. His familiar lay at his feat, only the occasion twitch of his ear told me that he wasn't asleep.
Several hours passed as I recounted the tales, with each story our conversation grew darker and soon our voices were little more than whispers across a table. Rufus was in the process of telling me concerning the Forsaken Temple and a great ruse that had been played upon the people of Mistone, when the panther let loose a low guttural growl. Instantly he was on his feat, muscles tensed as he crouched low to the ground. Almost as quickly Rufus had sprung to his feet and was scanning the inn. I sat frozen in my chair knowing that if something was amiss there was little more that I could do.
The panther crept toward the door, he had caught sent of one watching and listening in the darkness of the inn. The panther’s heightened senses were not fooled by shadows or sorcery. The panther had the assailant trapped, and slowly his sleek outline proceed towards his prey. At the sight of the stalking feline, Doria had plastered herself against the wall. Fear kept her voice from crying out. But it was not she the panther was after. Suddenly Rufus let loose with a shower of white magical energy, but at the very moment of his casting something distracted his attention and the spell fired all around him. Blinded by the light, Doria fell to the floor in pain; this drew the attention of several drunken patrons that came running. The panther reacting on pure instincts leapt at them and in a single swipe of his massive claws both lay dead on the inn floor. The panther had reacted so fast Rufus was unable to control the creature before the deed had been done.
Where the assailant had fled, who knows? Rufus and I exchanged quick glances. Not needing any words between us we shot for the door, with the panther in pursuit. We stopped behind some houses to exchange our farewell, with a promise to meet again soon.
I too fled the city but I was forced to return to it to finish some business. I walked past the well when I noticed someone rise to his feet and begin tailing me. I walked on a bit further before turning to confront the halfling. He accused me of murder and conspiracy to commit murder. It took all the restraint I could muster to keep from cutting the halfing into a quarterling. He claimed to have a witness he could produce, but knowing that more than likely he would be off to get Captain Garrant, I turned my face towards the eastern gates of Hlint. Captain Garrent has been looking for any excuse to put me behind bars; the mere insinuation of wrongdoing would be enough for him. The halfling must have turned back to make sure I was there because he saw me racing for the gates.
But now instead of one halfling, there were two chasing after me. Fast little buggers they are they soon caught up to me and continued with their accusations. Once again I fled, this time back to the city. I pushed open the gates; my heart was pounding in my chest. One thing I had always been told by my mother, do not every be caught. As if she was speaking through me I called upon Corath to envelop me in his darkness. Instantly everything went dark in the area. I ran through it hoping it would confuse my assailants. The continued in pursuit through the darkness, I looped around the city and head back to the now shut gate. With a kick the gates flew open. I thought the open gates would give the illusion that I had fled back outside the city. The ruse worked and much to my surprise an unseen ally was waiting for just the right moment. I felt the familiar tingly sensation as his magic faded me from view.
I had escaped my pursuit. No doubt my welcome in Hlint is worn out. By now the Captain will have been informed and they will be watching for me to return. Weather I murdered the ignorant sloughs or not, they will want to know what happened. Few in numbers are those I call friend, to lose one would be grave indeed, especially one called Rufus.
-
I met a most interesting of person the other day. I felt a strange feeling as I passed by her; it was as if a struggle was pulling within her. Light battling Darkness. Each trying to gain the upper hand on the other. It was something I had never before felt in another person. Her soul split between her former master and the one she now claimed. It wasn't until she drew her blade that I began to understand the nature of the conflict. Written in runes upon the blade was the all too common phrase, "The blood of my enemies will only sate my thirst when I use their bodies to serve your cause." The blade pulsed with the unholy might of Lord Corath. Yet the woman professed loyalty to Toran. I suggested that we speak a bit more in private.
I led the woman back to a safe place were we could talk privately. Matilda ... the name rings with a measure of familiarity ... perhaps I have heard an elder speak her name in passing. She once was a devout Priestess of Corath, but she now says to have turned aside the path of the dead. Foolish woman, does she not remember the very teachings she once proclaimed. There is no turning back, especially for one of the anointed of Corath.
The irony is that she claims to serve Toran, yet wields a blade consecrated to Corath. I told her of her folly. She refused to believe my words, though I belief they have struck home with this one. How can one truly serve a god of light and wield a blade of darkness? I will continue to press this one back to the faith she has tried to set aside, unsuccessfully mind you. I will expel the light and return her to her master, one way or another.
*****
It seems that even in a perceived failure I triumph. What I thought was a complete failure to create an unholy ring of Corath, turned out to be a great boon. The failure in crafting led me to gather more gems for Marcus. It was while I was in the process of getting him malachite, that I spotted a different color in the rock. I extracted the gem and upon cleaning it discovered it to be an emerald. An emerald, the rarest of minerals on Layonara. Most fortunate to have discovered this gem. It will go along way in the aiding of construction on the temple.
As a side note, plans to build in Berhagen Mountains have been scraped. Further review of history and maps has shown that a large settlement of dwarves resides in these mountains. Including the tome of the one that aided in the defeat of the False Avatar Arakanor Lightbane. The Forsaken Temple may truly be the best location, though I am not giving up my search for a better location.
-
News travels slowly to the distant lands of Mistone. Normally I wouldn't think twice about hearing that a follower of Toran has met their end. In fact normally I would laud the accomplishments of the one that brought the end to the Toranite. But this day has yeilded tales that I thought at first could only been the slanderings of drunken sailors too long at sea. These tales seem to be true, for why would anyone speak such words about Quin if they were not true. His soul harvested by the reaper. Yea it seems my threatenings to him from long ago have born true.
*There appears to be an ink blot caused by a quill smashed in upon the page in anger. It seems that some time passes before the next entry.*
A worthy enemy and companion to say the least was Quin. We were as night and day ... I have been cheated in accomplishing the victory that was meant to be mine. This demon has stolen my chance to defeat the beacon of light on Mistone. No longer are you of light Quin, you now serve my master as even I can not now.
-
*Seals up the last of the letters handing them to the animated bones.*
"Now fly my pets and do not fail me."
It is finished, the Dark Alliance is no more. No longer will the webs of deciet from the drow be a matter of my concern. Rufus and I had agreed sometime ago to end the alliance. But we thought it best to keep things quite until all had been revealed. I need not ask Rufus why he thought it best to end the alliance, for in truth I know the reasons. Though I sense much fatigue in one who was once so strong. Could the powers he weilds now be draining the strength from him. He did mention that I have displeased that bastard child Delmir. Ha, let her be displeased, did she really think that I would not try and seek my own ends. Did she think I would just go willingly? Failure indeed, I did not fail ... I delivered the poison to the wells. I only regret not getting one of those vials to Quin. That would have made things most interesting to behold.
Once again the followers and the faithful of Corath are on their own against the powers of good. We shall disappear into the shadows and await our revenge.
-
Once again they send their messenger to inquire of the silver vial. The buffoons, they know the answer before they arrive. If they know where to find me then they most certainly know the answer before they ask the question. They say the same thing at each and every meeting, "Find it ... deliver it ... do not fail." What makes them think I can find it any easier than they can. They have more resources at their disposal than I do. Yet they spout about me not placing the failure on them when I inquire for knowledge from them. Certainly if they can't find ... how am I?
*sets the quill down for a moment listening for the sounds of Agustus*
It seems that Marcus has begun an orphanage. He has taken his orphaned nephew in as an apprentice. Agustus is the name of the annoying little twit. I believe I made a most frightening experience from our first encounter. He will learn to mind his place and most certainly his tongue. He has much to learn, but perhaps he will be useful in time, with the proper teachings of course.
But if what Lue Lightfingers and Ozy said are true then this vial is in possession of a powerful group located in Arabel. Their name escapes me for the moment but Ozy said they were all vampires. The undead, creatures that feed on the living and yet are beyond the control of Lord Corath. For these creatures have no soul to bind them to any power but themselves. They will be most reluctant to part with the vial ... assuming I am even able to find these creatures of the shadows.
-
With two blood wells now destroyed it seemed like a good idea to visit the Place of Prophecy. The location of most interest to me was that of the chessboard. I found that some things had changed since my last visit. White's bishop is in position to take black's bishop; Both of black's knights have advanced. The move appears to that of white. Will white's bishop take the unguarded black bishop? It was as I was leaving from this place and was crossing the bridge that I happened upon Talan. He mentioned that someone was to deliver a gift to black's queen. I pressed him for some information and learned that it wasn't the silver vial. So then what is black's queen to recieve? I speculate that the black queen is the soul mother ... what is she desiring? It was in this conversation that a thought came to me. What if I am black's bishop ... I am unguarded ... the Black Wizards told Rufus to kill me. *pauses* Certainly I am not a bishop on the board of the world ... I most certainly am nothing more that a pawn in the grand scheme, yet even a pawn may become a queen. So then which side of the board is Chanda truely on? If the Black Wizards are in leagues with the drow and the rise of Shandosian then they are no doubt black pieces ... but where is my Lord?
*****
Marcus approached me about speeding up the training of Agustus. Once more the Soul Mother has claimed a portion of his soul. He feels his life waining and is concerned that she will call him before Agustus is ready. I have agreed to this. I dislike the runt; he is arrogant, and decietful ... a perfect candidate for the priesthood. Yet I do not think he will walk this road. Too long he has been tainted by magic-users and their bending of the weave. The power of faith ... that is true power. Power from the gods themselves to act in thier will. A mage simply uses that around them ... should the weave fail they will fail, but when one receives their power from faith on high the power is endless.
*****
The Arm of the Ram is meeting with much success. The false front will bring in much gold for the building of the temple. Yes, the temple will go forward, despite the efforts of those who would see my end. Let them come ... let them see the power of my faith. The temple will be built ... Layonara will again see the rise of another temple to Lord Corath and I shall be the High Priestess who see it so. The time grows nigh that I will receive the mantle of High Priestess, my development in His priesthood will bring glory to him. The Mad God will regain the power he once had ... the people will again know Lord Corath.
-
*The following thoughts are chaoticaly sprawled across the page.*
"What is a Rocklord?" ... "She confirmed that Duron has a large part yet to play." ... "Duron may be a great crafter but there is one greater." ... "Duron is part his mother and part his father." ... "Jasimine was next in line for Hierophant." ... "Why did Duron flee to the Citadel of Dorand?" ... "If Duron may one day craft a great weapon and he is part of his father, Festus, then perhaps his father is indeed the one that will craft the Sword of Shadows." ... "Lue mentioned the great smith who lived near Arabel." ... "Duron is the last of the Rocklords." ... "Katia does not know where the silver vial now is." ... "Duron must be guarded against corruption." ... "Dorand is the dwarven god of crafting." ... "Stone and rock are the dwarven resources and thus the domain of Dorand." ... "Duron is capable of calling forth elementals of stone." ... "Blood wishes to rule all of Layonara, what better weapon to turn agianst him than the very earth itself." ... "Where is the silver vial?"
-
This day has turned out to be most rewarding. It began as I was making my way back to Leilon from Hlint. As I was journeying my path crossed with a woman who called herself Lia Di'makiir. She immediately began to inquire into my faith and why I could believe the way I do. Interestingly enough it seems that she was bound though a dark ritual by Lord Corath to a demon. She now curses the blessing she once asked for, wishing to banish herself and the demon to the lowest reaches of the Abyss. Her past now haunts her, a knowledge of the deeds she has done while under the charms of the demon. I wonder wheither it is better to be a slave to the demon, not knowing what your actions are; or to be a slave to the memories of that which you have done? She cries for revenge, yet once again the only one that will heed her call is He who she once called to in the ritual. How ironic. Yet while we discussed her situation the demon appeared before us, congradulating her on accomplishing one of three tasks. This infuriated her, the more she resists the aids him.
But she grew board of hearing how she could rid herself of the curse if she only sought the right sources and soon departed. I had only just started once more when I came upon a brute of a creature. An ogre named Zort was wandering towards me. It was at this very moment that I realized the boon that Corath had just given to me. This ogre seemed willing to talk with me. He knew not of Lord Corath, nor did he know of my reputation. I began to render him the victim of all things; I pointed out how so many have used him, a flattered him into trusting me. He asked me to be his manager, which in truth is what I desired all along. I took him with me to Leilon so that I might try this ogre and see if it was worth my efforts on him. I would soon find him to be most usefull.
As we happened along the road past the Blackford Castle, we could hear raised voices and shouts coming from near the lake. Much to my surprise was the sight Zort and I beheld as we crested the hill. There below us was Ramanon with Lailith holding a blade to his throat. As much of a surprise as this situation was to me, I am sure it was even more of a surprise to them. Not to mention a relief to Ramanon to look up and see his priestess coming to his rescue. I shall have to remind him of this occassionally. In the commotion of Zort wanting to smash, and Lailith and the others surprise at my arrival; Ramanon quickly escaped the confines of Lailith's blade and promptly executed his spell of invisibility. Where he fled I know not, but I do not think he escaped unscathed from the encounter as Lailith's blade had a measure of blood where Ramanon's neck once was.
I must remember to thank Lia some day for delaying me on the road as she did. For has she not I would not now have a bodyguard nor would Ramanon still have his breath. Lord Corath be praised for the gifts that he has given this servant devout.
-
The nature of true power has been on my mind of late. Many profess to have it but few in truth know of it. For neither blade nor weave are true power. While the mighty often believe they have found it, it more often resides with the simplest of minds. Self mastery is a part of it ... yet it in truth is not the true power, it is but a means to understanding true power.
All those who seek the Mad God must discover the nature of true power ... What is true power? How does one obtain it? These are the questions that all those who would walk the path must answer.
****
Ramanon said she was ready, Marcus thought should would be an assest to the cult. The only two people in whom I can rely and trust. Upon their counsel I sent for Tamera Jarden. Marcus delivered the message in person to her, the nature of the world now is too unstable to send black letters by the normal carriers. I sat across from her in my normal manner. My mind searched her thoughts and pryed into her very soul. Darkness ... seeds planted deep within her soul. As I listened to her words and her expression of her desire for power, the words of my Lord spoke in my mind. "Let only the worth walk the path."
Tamera disavowed herself from the Lady of Chaos and desired that I show her the path of Lord Corath. While I spoke to her my mind was shown a vision of what Tamera would be required to prove her worth. I saw a path ... black as night ... there upon the path was Tamera poised ready to begin. Yet three obstacles barred her journey. I approached each of the obstacles and found the following engraven upon it:
"Where dark and light meet ... At the mountains feet. There lies the door ... Bring the ring that he once wore. "
The second obstacle was much the same as the first, it read:
"8 pedestals upon which I rest ... yet dire is your test ... My bite, my sting ... upon thy blade I bring."
I looked to the third obstacle and nothing was yet engraven upon it. My mind then returned to the conversation with Tamera, she was finishiing relating her knowledge of the nature of power. I then proceeded to challenge her with the two obstacles, only the worthy may walk the path. She left with a profession of a desire to prove her worth.
-
It has been sometime since my last writing, in truth much has taken place. Many things deserving more than the few lines that I shall right about at this time. I could fill several pages with just then account of the returning the metallic dragons to Layonara, or the accounts of the Grey Circle. But I believe that I should speak a bit about the newest spring of darkness.
Once again the tide of darkness rises in the lands, even at the very hour that the world is in the greatest of need for help. A confident woman, one who knows her trade and skill. She will be a great addition to the causes of Lord Corath. The speed at which she completed those tasks required to prove her worthiness speaks volumes of her. To name her here could prove her demise. Suffice it to say, her skills in poison and stealth out do those of Caldiir. Several others are proving worthy of my attention. When the hour of their worthiness is here then will I harvest them into Lord Corath.
I have been charged with the acquisition of an ancient relic of Corath. A long dead follower created a weapon capable of draining the very soul from those touched. This item, known as the black hand, was taken upon his death by Grannoch shamans. When they realized the extent of the powers contained within, though actually I doubt they have the inteligence to even think it anything more than food, they gave it to some druids of Katia. The druids hide the black hand in the High Forest. When we went to the location where they had hide the hand we discovered it had been taken.
I must have this hand, at all costs. With this hand my enemies will kneel at my feet, this relic would be the centerpiece of the temple. I soon journey to the Forsaken Islands with Rufus Coldfinger. It is said that those who venture there come back changed forever. We shall see.
As of late I have had the oppurtunity to learn much about the Blood War, the ancient war between the Baatezuu and the Ta'nari. I am enthrawled by the knowledge related by Ozy. He told me of the types of Baatezuu, the Dark Nine, and the eight Arch-dukes. Next I will learn abotu the Ta'nari. I have been successful in summoning several demons and a few devils thus far. Soon my powers will increase, I feel the strength of Lord Corath in me.
-
*She picks up her journal from off the desk. Brushes a bit of dust from the cover before clicking open the latch. She slowly turns through the pages reflecting upon several of the entries that she has made. Upon arriving at the last entry she returns the now open book to the desk and takes a seat at the desk. She withdrawls her hood and for a brief moment relaxes. Chanda then reaches for the raven quill, dips it in the ink and begins to write.*
My entries come less often than they use to. Events that once seemed extraordinary now barely tickle my interest. I remember my first encounter with a creature of the planes, I shook with fear ... fear ... weakness. To think that now I laugh at those very same creatures and command them by my will. Oh the follies of youth, the carefree, wreckless attitude that is often exhibited. Where are those that I once knew ... where are those with whom I once strived.
*** this entry seems to have ended abruptly as if the thoughts that were written left as soon as they were written. The journal continues a bit further down the page, she has left a bit of space between these two entries. ***
I waited by the boat landing, the letter said to meet him their. Would the rumors be true? The Forsaken Isles are said to leave their mark upon those who find them. The greatest of the undead are said to walk the islands. Even the mighty Rufus Coldfinger seemed to hesitate at mentioning those isles. I should have been their with them, I would have been their if that wretched captain would have set sail like I told him to. The spineless blob refused to sail into the storm and thus I arrived too late to meet Rufus before the ship sailed.
Several hours passed before I saw the dark man approach, the outline was that of Rufus yet he was not the man that I have come to know. Old he seemed, sucken of shoulder, like one that has long carried a burden greater than most can carry. As he approached I realized that I was not alone. A familiar chortle told me that Tath was also near. Tath came into my vision and I realized that he too seemed different, besides the ring which he wore.
With a heavy sigh Rufus exchanged greetings with the two of us. He began to tell the tale of his latest adventure, perhaps even his greatest. He spoke of an old teacher and another Black Wizard named Cibus. I have never seen Rufus as I saw him this day. The wizard that is above everything, he who lets nothing stand in his way seemed at this time to me a man knotted and confused. His teacher is no more, yet he has discovered what the Black Wizards asked of him. I fiind it hard to comprehend why he is torn. He has received that which he has asked for, he knows that much must be risked to achieve the greatest of power. He swears his vengence on Cibus for the death of his master. When this Cibus could not hope to defeat Rufus he stuck at the place that he knew would cause Rufus the greatest of pain. So I wonder who indeed is the victor of the Black Wizard's test?
Three choices seem to lie before the mage Coldfinger. The first, continue the task of the Black Wizard's, give them the secrets of the Forsaken Isles and bask in the gifts they would give him. Yet, he has sworn the death of another Black Wizard, to complete this oath will not set well with the Black Wizards. The second, kill Cibus, keep the secrets of the Forsaken Isles secret and remain loyal to the one true Master that Rufus owes loyalty to ... Corath. The third, repent of his crimes against the Lucindites by returning the rings he stole from them, in return they have offered him a place upon the council. Yet this final choice would put the most enemies set against him.
Could I be an enemy to Rufus Coldfinger? He that has given the most to me, he that took me under his wing that I might have the protection I needed to begin my work. Could I really be set against him? Could I put the final dagger into him that sends his soul fleeing from his mortal bonds? Only one choice will lead him to continue down the road at my side. For I have known for sometime that the goals of the Black Wizards are no longer the goals of Lord Corath. How would I choose ... which path would I take if the choices were before me?
*** The next entry seems to have been written before the previous entry was complete. Several smudge marks reveal this. ***
For the last fortnight a dream has haunted my sleep. I see a figure shroud in ink black burial garments, his face is masked by the hood that he wears. It calls me by name, and yet I know not who it is. The voice is familiar and I know that I should know to whom it belongs. I turn to approach the vissage, yet he retreats back into the shadows. The closer I come the further it seems he resends. Who is this faceless image that calls to me?
I have sought out the aid of Matilda. Only a sister of my blood can truely aid me in the understanding of this dream. I related the dream to her as she shuffled her deck of cards. Three cards I pulled from her deck and she placed them face down upon the rug. She said each of these spoke of Past, Present, and Future. These cards would relate to my dream and aid my understanding. The first card she turned ... the Queen of Swords inverted ... she said this represented a decietful, mysterious woman, she said this card represented me. The figure and I once shaired a past partnership or oath. The card of the present she turned to reveal the Hermit inverted. She said this vissage now wanders alone in its existence, the partnership we once held has be completely broken. He now wanders without direction or hope. The future card revealed the Five of Pentagrams. She said this speaks that this vissage without aid will fade and be lost forever. She said that since I turn to follow him in my dream, on a subconscious level I must want to aid him.
What does all this mean? Who from my past has returned? The Queen of Swords, the Hermit, and the Five of Pentagrams ... what are they telling me. I will ask my Lord to aid me in this understanding. While all others fade, he will not.
-
I must say that the events of this day have brought much satisfaction to me. For it is not often that one has the oppurtunity to so dramatically change the balance of the cosmos. The choice of Rufus has brought to him much praise and reknown, if that reknown is only amongst a select few. Mind you that these few have more power themselves than three-quarters of the inhabitants of Layonara.
I met up with Rufus, Ramanon, and Tath at the inn of Arabel. It seemed that Rufus had made his decision as to which path he would take. He was determined to set a course across the unforgiving expanse of Xantil. There I saw creatures that amazed me, which in of itself is hard to do seeing as how I have myself commanded demons and devils. Yet these creatures were some of the greatest of beasts and infernals that are known to sages. Great Balor Princes, and Gelugons of immense power, Giants that weilded clubs the size of small trees. We made are journey through forest and over river, across large chasims and cliffs. And then we saw it, towering over the trees, a great black tower. It reached far into the sky and around the top of the tower there was large forboding black clouds. The Black Tower of the Black Wizards.
Long have I known of Rufus' affliation with this group. Though never before had he asked me to journey with him to this place. We waited at the base of the steps as a climbed his way up and entered into the tower. Several minutes passed before a voice spoke to us telling us to enter and wait in the foyer. Hours passed as we waited in the foyer. I could feel a great energy all around me ... a black feeling ... almost as if Corath himself were passing over this tower. These feelings lasted only a few minutes but would return every so often. After this continued for sometime, Rufus emerged from his meeting with the Grandmaster of the Black Wizards. We were bade to follow the dark man up a long series of stairs. When we finally reached the top we passed through a set of doors into a large dark chamber.
Instantly I knew what the source of my feelings were. We were in a large room and there in the center was a man impaled upon a spear with two other Wizards standing near. At the head of the ritual was the blackest of blackness. There was no doubt the source of the feelings, only once before had I felt this same feeling and it was in the pressence of the Black Sun. I feel to my knees in submission to my Lord, all the time praising his dark and unholy name. The third wizard joined them around the sacrifice and began their parts of the ritual. Darkness swirled around me and nearly overcame me. Feelings of hatred, murder and deciet ... exuberant to my soul it was. Then as quickly as the ritual started it ended. The darkness consumed the flesh of the man and his skin seemed to rot and fall off his skull and bones. The Black Sun went to the skull and brought it to Rufus. "The skull of thy enemy, the means of our power. Place these three vials of blood in the skull and it will bring the failed pool of Storan under our power." At the same time one of the Grandmasters produced three vials of their blood. There would be no room for failure, but sucess would grant blessings beyond mortal comprehension.
We returned to Mistone with our task at hand. We found Storan knew of our arrival and invited us to speak with him. We stood their as his minions circled around us. Perhaps it was what they sensed in Tath and Rufus that kept them at bay or merely the will of their master. Storan sought a means to end his curse, promising great shared power with Rufus if he would place the blood of Storan in the failed blood pool instead of that of one of the mages. To promise such a task was the only way Storan would show us the path into the chamber. We agreed to his terms and journied below.
The stone steps echoed beneath our feet, the chamber was heated by a river of lava that flowed through it. This chamber bore the signs of fighting and torture at every passage turn. We emerged around one such turn to see the blood pool come into view. The blood pool clear had not held its contents for quite sometime, great cracks ran along the sides of the basin and a stain of dried blood was along its base. Though time had taken its toll upon the pool it still would hold enough liquid for us to perform our task. We approached the basin and Rufus began to follow the instructions given him. I watched him pour out the vials into the skull, instantly the blood began to boil, I knew something was amiss. I rushed to his side and commanded him to stop and hold the skull out. The words which came next seemed to flow through me and out of my mouth, as if they were spoken not by me but by my Lord Corath. These are the words I uttered:
"Oh mighty Dark One in thy name we do thy will, let this blood and this skull grant thee power, let thy seeds of darkness go forth. I envoke thy blessing upon this ritual, I envoke thy power into this place, I envoke thy Name upon this skull and this blood."
With that the boiling stopped. Rufus placed the skull in the blood pool. The floor began to quake and shake, the pool turned a bright red and acted as if if was going to explode. With a flash of light the air and fog around the pool began to pull at our essence ... our very souls. We fled instantly, even as a feeling of being watched came over us. It wasn't until latter that Rufus said he had for a brief instant seen Bloodstone. The blood pool was now back in use, and at the power of Lord Corath.
We made our way once more across the sea to the black tower. There our deeds were once more recounted to the Black Wizards and Rufus was given his reward. Master Rufus Coldfinger of the Black Wizards. Those robes he now wears are more than just the cloth they are made of, they strike fear into the hearts of all who behold them. The power of Lord Corath was increase 1000 fold this day. And what is more, I know longer fear the rumors of a seperation of belief within the ranks of the Black Wizards. For the Black Sun, avatar of Lord Corath, Speaker with the Unholy Tongue, would not come to a place not fully devoted to the Mad God.
Even as the ritual that they performed was acted with both divine and arcane power, even so was the blood pool converted to Lord Corath. Arcane and Divine togethor ... the darkness of these two forces combined. Let all the world now sleep an uneasy peace ... they will soon know of our actions and the strengthening of Lord Corath.
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Sometimes I even amuse myself at the chaos I amass and create. I was feeling most rambunctious this day, bottled up mischief waiting to be unleashed upon the residents of Hlint. I started with a rather interesting interpretation and persuasion of a dumb orc. I convinced him that Fraile owed him an apology for running into him. I then proceeded to fill his eager mind full of lies pertaining to Fraile. I painted a picture in his mind of her as a baby killer, a murderer of orc children. My words I whispered upon his mind filling it will my deceitful words. I need not see action from these words; the mere doubt I placed in his mind is pleasure enough.
Soon there after, I was entreated by a woman claiming to seek necromantic instruction. She claimed to know of my intentions and my endeavors. The worthless maggot, even to call her a maggot is an insult to the maggot itself. I despise those who think to know of me. Who can know the darkness or the swirling vortex of chaos? To use my blade upon her and end her existence is too merciful. And what is more Ramanon thinks to take her on as an apprentice. She will rue the day she met me, her arrogance and her disrespectful tongue shall be her end.
After leaving Ramanon to his maggot, I happened upon my Sister, Matilda. Once again my confused Blood has strayed from the path of our Lord. She now claims the Paladinic Order of Lucinda. Tsk tsk ... my Sister, though she may claim no ties to the darkness, she is yet bound to it. Words and fancy clothing can not cover the darkness that envelops her. She will return to me ... though she may forget the Blood Oath she swore, I have not … nor has the Dark One. I have devised a plan to see that she does not lose sight of what she truly is. I have enlisted the aid of Ramanon and the hand that he bears. He shall entreat Serenity with the promise of its destruction for a small price ... Matilda. She will be banished from the church ... never to be accepted into it anymore. She will have no choice but return to the only ones that truly have desired her.
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*brushes off the dusty tome then taking the raven feather quill she dips it into the black ink and begins to write*
Too long have we sat idly by watching the comings and goings of these insolent drones. They have forgotten who we are. Perhaps they think we have wasted away into nothingness. A simple passing craze or haulcination, that is what they think. We have nothing to worry about those Corathites they no longer plague us. Deathmongers that have gotten what they sought. They laugh at the name of Corath. A mere punchline over a stein of ale. Perhaps it is time that we show them that the darkness lingers and though they have bought themselves time agianst the threat of Blood and his legions, they have over looked the cancerous tumor that has dwelled quietly under their noses.
Fast approaches the apointed hour of sacrifice; the hour we shall call down the power of Lord Corath and set his will lose upon this land. Lord Corath shall have his sacrifice and I know whos blood shall be shed. That lurking weakling, too long has he circled the city blazing his sheild and sword. We shall see if his courage is stronger than the tin suit he adorns himself in. *pauses a moment to laugh* I can even now see the reaction on their faces when they gaze upon the head of him who they look to for protection. They will cower into their homes and throw the latch. Fathers shall watch the whole night through, Mothers will clutch their children tightly and none shall rest easily that night. Our coming shall be as a cold blast of wind that chills to the bone yet fire shall not warm. Then from far off they will hear the steady drum to which they march. Monotone and dreary shall they pass, graves shall yeild their entombed; the Dead Lord shall call his children to rise. Even Mist shall bow to the wishes of my Master and concede her emprisoned.
But a bit longer shall they sleep peacefully ... but a bit longer shall I wait. Rise ye that have been called to thy Master, rise and obey my summons. *she closes the journal with a smug resolve and then hurries to prepare the black letters and send them forth*
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*Chanda heavily purs herself into her chair at her desk. The desk seems to be even more cluttered than usual, mountains of books and scrolls overflow off on to the floor. With a wave of her arm, even more parchment finds itself upon the floor. She draws the black tome towards her and reaches for the ink and quill. With a dip of the ink and a sofly muttered word the book flies open to the next blank page. She begins to write but her hand is heavy and you breaks the tip of the quill. In disgust and with a word of curse she flings it aside and reaches for another. Three quills now lay upon the floor of her dark room before any words appear on this page.*
*ink blot* *ink blot* *ink blot*
She conspires agianst me in every way. Do the dark souls of the servants of the Mad God, appease her appetite? Are our souls more filling to her? It seems that Mist has sought her payment for future services of Lord Corath. Mist and the Soul Mother be damned! *glances over at the tomb which contains the outward shell that once was Tamera Jarden*
Just when our hour of return was to be pronounced, and darkness to consume the night. I am not sure what vexes me more, that the Soul Mother has claimed another or that Tamera now has more power than I. Yet even this corspe will not go to waste, I have begone the process of preservation of her body. Soon I will complete the ritual and raise her once more to the service of this cult. She will serve as quite a deterent to any that should stumble upon the temple grounds.
*stops to hold up an emerald that was in the pocket of Tamera, gazes into it as the green refraction dances upon her face* Yes Tamera even in death you will serve this cult well. *places the emerald back upon the desk and with another whisper the tome slams shut.*
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*Chanda sits down at her desk and flips open the black skin covered journal. Thumbing through the pages she arrives at the next blank page in the book. She reaches into her pocket and produces a golden ankh on a chain. She looks at it a moment and laughs outloud as she tosses it upon the desk*
I must say, he was brave, seeing as how he was outnumbered three to one. Yet bravery and crazy walk a fine line. But who did he think he was, challenging me, demanding that I not pass, me a Priestess of Corath. He should have known better. He fell to the sword, yet the look on his face was priceless as I slit his throat. Watching the last breath of life pass over his lips did bring much pleasure. I consumed a portion of his flesh in the Mad God's name. And what is more to see the thrill and excitment upon the faces of Sabel and Czukay at his death brings much promise for these two.
A golden ankh tied to a golden chain around his neck. Though I did not need see the Toranite holy symbol to know who he was. I fear not any retrobution that the church of crazied heretics may seek. Besides, I can always put the blame on my underlings should things go amiss. May he walk endlessly upon the Plane of Shadows devoid of rest, a creature of the darkness. All praises to the Dark Lord for deeming me worthy to end the existence of a worthless Paladin of Toran.
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*Chanda takes the bound tome, whipes off some of the dust that dimishes the blackness of the book. She leafs through the yellowing pages to the next blank page. Dipping her raven feather quill into some ink she begins to scratch the following entry in her journal*
The temple is complete. All the suffering and saving has been worth it. Once more there stands a center of darkness upon this continent of Mistone. Once more his blackness will issue forth to corrupt and overcome the people of this land. The location of the temple is only known to the worthy. I have established a lose treaty between the local inhabitants; the treaty is simple really I will have the land where the temple resides and they will keep adventurers away. Fear is a powerful motivator of the weak of mind. The time soon approaches for the dedication of the temple, the construction of the temple has been a great price both monetarily and at the cost of followers.
I was discussing our plans for the dedication of the temple with Ramanon when an icy cold chill filled the room. A chill the likes of which I have only experienced a few times before, and then only in the pressence of the Black Sun. Darkness filled the room and a shadow appeared moving in the darkness. Even before he bid us kneel I was upon my knees. His words filled the chamber and echoed throughout the temple. "Behold Priestess the price of failure." He approached Ramanon and placed his hand firmly upon Ramanon's forehead. His hand glowed red consuming the soul of Ramanon. Screams of pain and anguish eminated from the frame of the mage, as his body was now glowing red. I watched the work of the Black Sun for what seemed like ages but was only seconds. When he had finished all that remained of Ramanon was a smoldering pile of ash and the clothes with which he use to be dressed. His Unholiness turned to me and repeated the words again, "Behold Priestess the price of failure." He stepped back into the darkness and was gone. There will be no marker errected for Ramanon, failure is not rewarded nor is it honored.
This past night once again I have been found worthy to stand in the pressence of the Avatar of Corath. I was wandering the forests of Seilwood when the dark mark appeared all around me. The darkness, the icy cold filled the air, I noticed the dark outline of a familiar persona. He commanded me to kneel and then his raspy, harsh voice filled the forest. "Priestess, my power shall soon arise. The Mother searches and will likely fail. That will be the time to strike, do not fail me." He promptly departed but his pressence once more overcame me and a fainted from the loss of blood. The darkness swirled around me as I faided in and out of consciousness. I heard voices, were they His voice or the voice of another. I awoke a few hours before dawn to find myself surrounded by a group of people in the house of the Witch of Seilwood. My mind had returned enough to know that I must not wait anylonger in these woods. I fled from their and immediately found Cassandra waiting upon a hill outside of Hlint. She aided me back to the safe house, my state still weakened from the events of earlier that night. Cassandra had news, she spoke of the Skull suddenly moving in the sky about midnight this past night. The Skull arises.
*Sets the quill done then promptly repicks it up and writes the following*
I have recorded the prophecy of the Black Sun upon a scroll and sent it to the Library for furture study on my part. There will be no fail in our attack.
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Bumping this for Aragon to see it, still working out the pagination issues.
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*takes the journal flips though it and arrives at the next blank page. She dips the quill into her ink and begins*
I must say I am rather pleased with the developments of late. It is not hard to see why Hlint will fall to the armies of Blood. When they consistently are plagued by fools who would be heroes, the end is inevitable. Take that "guide" of A'zatta, he didn't even know what his traitorous goddess stood for. He believed me when I said she was a traitor and a theif. But when he decided to show is true brain power by spitting upon me ... I showed him the end of my blade. It wasn't much of a challenge really, I didn't even break a sweat. Nor will Blood when he moves his legions forward.
Then there is the cleric of Ilsare, Vestlyn, you would think these fools would have more common sense than to insult a High Priestess of Corath ... or of any faith for that matter. Yet he choose to insult me and ridicule the Dark One openly in public. Tsk ... tsk ... that was a mistake Vestlyn for such an act is not tolerated. It happened that this event occured while I was on my way to a meeting with some business associates. It turns out that the one who delievered the gift from Pyrotechron to the temple happens to have worked for the Nameless One in the past. Much to my surprise and pleasure I ensure you. I enlisted their "talents" to invite Vestlyn to my guest room. Unfortunately those fools were followed and the elf escaped before I could have her killed. But I sent the two Pyrotechrons to chase her down. What ensued was the imprisonment of three Pyrotechrons. It seems Michealous wasnt' going to let his comrades go down without a fight. All three were imprisoned in Velensk by no less than Garent. I hear tell that they escaped and are currently wanted. Their escape only adds to the rumor and alibi for Corath.
******
I met with Rufus to discuss the events that have transpired since we last met. He informed me of Blood's defeat on Rodlem and the ample source of recruits I would find there. I must leave for Rodlem soon and ensure our new recruits are welcomed. I informed him of Vestlyn and togethor we devised a plan to transfer Vestlyn to Arabel. After a short walk to Arabel I presented him to the High Priestess of Death as a token of the loyalty of the west. She seemed pleased at the gift, who wouldn't be, a priest of Ilsare for her personal uses. She has promised I will get him back when he is properly indoctinated. Oh and she consented to a squad of Ravens to aid the defenses of the temple. That coupled with the bones she gave me will make the start of a most evil army.