Shadows of the Wolf - Dur'Thak

[Fatherchaos]

Abyss . . .

Dur'Thak sits, shivering, nearly bent over in terror . . . and a strange joy.

"I went to Arborea. I aided Rhynn . . . A hard battle we fought. Many . . . many died."

"My plan . . . failed."

"I went to Arborea . . . Before I entered I questioned myself before Ozymandias. Am I an Elf or am I a Demon. The Arborean power said that she would not willingly allow a Darkblood to enter . . . save only three. Ozymandias being amongst them."

"She made a portal for those who were not welcome."

"I . . . I stepped through the other portal, to Arborea."

"I was a peace for once . . . I could not hear the dark whispers, feel the shadows. It felt like an eternity . . . that I was free. And then . . . it found me. That inner hatred welled up within me like a consuming fire. I could feel myself . . pulled away."

"And there . . . I found myself in the Abyss. The windswept, snowcapped field of a great constant battle."

"I fell down in terror and sadness . . . I felt the elven blood screaming against the onslaught of my darker heritage. So small, yet so powerful it seemed in that twisted place."

"My last hope of redemption had faded. I am . . . an abyssal now. I am bound there for the deeds I have done, and the curse my father has blighted me with. Forever shall I know the taint and horrors of the Bloodwar now. Never again will I know the touch of Arborea's warm soil . . . and . . . I barely remember why I truely care now."

"I cast off the remnants of my pendant that was given to me by my mother. There next to the portal it lay. Broken and half twisted as I am, the wolf pendant had been discarded long ago when I left home and found my way to Sigis.A crafting of Arborea forever bound in the Abyss. . . a good resemblance I must say of things to come."

"I had enough wit about me once the terror passed, and the hunger surged, to used my spells to move unseen. Marilyths . . . armies of them . . . patrolled near the gate. As my spells and will faltered . . I found myself pinned up against a rock, hiding however I could. It was there that I began to scratch into the rock what I considered the last moments of my life. The last moments that were supposed to be spent in Arborea, or even the outlands . . ."

"I was called to Arborea in the end by the binding power there . . . But I was too . . . wild . . . to realize it. I barely had enough sense to take a single Arborean leaf . . . I still carry it with me now."

"There are . . . thoughts . . . within myself that have been given a new louder voice. Always I have described this as a strange . . hunger. Now I know not what it is. So strongly does it now crawl at the back of my mind."

"I told Rhynn much of this, some time later. I told her . . ."

"I tolder her more . . . than I probably should have. I have not even told Geddrin the name of my birth. Kothanos . . . the name feels like I speak of another individual still living in the outlands."

"I wept before her. Told her that I sought to seek out my homeland and let Shantara know that I still live. She would do well to know that her son has not died. Or perhaps I should not, as twisted as I have become . . ."

Dur'Thak stops, then slowly lifts his weapons. Through the trees he slides to find some prey to feed the inner shadow and flame. In this he knows he will find another moment of clarity.

[Fatherchaos]

Dur'Thak sits near the oceanside by Valensk, soaking his sore body. His skin steams constantly, as if partially cooked. Carefully, he scribes by the waters edge, ensuring his pages and journal remain dry.

"To Pandemonium we went; the riders, myself, and others for their cause. I must admit, to hear of the howling winds is one side of the dark, to experience it is like getting skinned by a 'lolth. A number of petitioners did not like our presence, and quickly assaulted us in droves."

"In time we reached Asylum. And then all the primes went loose like monkies. Barmy sods all of them, its like they were cagestruck in the worst possible place to loose their worms. Looking back, I'm seriously surprised that any of the clueless made it out alive. Like a throng of seeting sensers . . ."

"I maintained what order I could to the berks outside, while others were intent on filling their gullets with whatever mibix the Illithid tavern could offer while banging around the burg as if on a holiday. If I only had a way to laugh my way out of there back to the outlands or sigil . . ."

"Things came to a good resolve, luckily. The bally sods didn't get themselves scribed by some luck of the ward thats for bally certain."

"We fought a good number of barmies when the clueless opened the cages, like pulling bricks from the brickbeast. At last we found Kora . . ."

"The one *known* as Ozymandias gave her the amulet, but it didnt' seem to have any affect on that power. Twirled it like it was a toy. Then the sodding piker blitzed right through a crack. Left us all for her shadow. Didn't take a tick for me to twig on that idea either. After she stamped about preparing to kill us all, I blitzed it also. Better to leave the clueless than to be one."

"I found the piker on the other side, working to undo his little charm. Barmy mindnick working his slings. As he was undoing it, Kora found us. Killed some young piker with wings. Came to find it was Ireth's own."

Dur'Thak pauses, thinking on something, but not penning those thoughts.

"Kora stood there, rattling her bone box till her dice fell out. Played the Gully for Ozymandias as he worked his charm backwards. It wasn't long until that halfer at the heart of this absorbed his horses like a creature without bowels. No matter on that. Sure as Sigil, the barmy halfer styxed her. And then. . ."

Dur'Thak shudders, recoiling in pain from the blinding memories.

"We were all forced into celestia before the sodding tarn. Not a place for a tiefer. Abigail, and myself hotfooted it about the place. But I dared not touch the water to cool myself. That blighted light burned constantly, not just my orbs, but I felt like I was roasting from the inside out. I watched Ozy curl up on the ground. Felling piker. I then did what I could for Abigail and myself by tossing down one of the skins I had with me. It almost helped, but the light didn't stop . . ."

"By the lady, I was finally freed of that cage. I guess the little piker that was Ireth's own somehow split the bean on her fate. The blighter half took abigail and myself out of the blasted land, popped us right into a wonderful void."

"Next time I go playing rounder with the clueless, I need to make sure the pikers are not vining to head to one of the sevens."

"I guess it all crossed the styx in the end though, seems all is right that needed it. . . At least I now have a good map to a few portals off this burg. Found a way to Arborea and Pandemonium now."

Dur'Thak sits his journal down safely, dunking himself further in the water to cool.

[Fatherchaos]

Rorty Stype

Dur'Thak sits down a bit bemused.

"I've a good summary of recent events that I must not styx. After significant hard work, I finally managed to obtain a unique mace from a berk over by Vale. Very handy this thing will be. Building on that, I finally got both of my rods of cold enchant . . ."

Dur'Thak hisses angrily

"That was a fair battle of worms on that. The first rod came with great difficulty, after a seemingly easy square trade. The berk *known* as Jin told me his price while some biting halfer kept rolling the dice over ever word that I spilled out. Fatfinger? I can't recall, hope the piker falls into the lady's shadow over some razorvine. Can't get that piker to stich it if all of mechanus went barmy trying."

"We squared on a skinned razor for the rod. Five and a half merts pluss enough glass ingots to build a house. After I did all my applechasing, finally draged the sod-sack back to Jin, gold and glass. Thats when he turned a double stag on me. That sodding biter he kept company with just wouldn't stitch it, so naturally she starting crawling in my dice. Told her, often and unpleasantly as possible, to stitch it, especially after her barmy comments to grind my own long-dice to stop the infernal hissing."

"Jin crossed at that, and left me torqued. Had to play the tout and call him out on his own. While doing that another soding friend of the biter spit on the temple floor, I guess in disgust of me. Clueless primers."

Dur'Thak chuckles

"Even I'm not that barmy. In the end I finally got that ol' greybeard to keep straight on his bargin. Wanted to add another skin to the interest of our deal. Call people by their names and such. I played cony on him, said that I wouldn't but might make an exception for him. Did so long enough to get my Jinx and hit the shadows laughing."

"Some ticks later, I came across Rhynn again. Promised that chit I'd make her a cant guide. Something to help her understand the planetouched a bit more I guess. Primers guide to the Hive I'll call it."

Dur'Thak looks around carefully, taking note that he is explicitly concealed.

"Now for the rorty stype. Some blood, a friend of Starr, black pearl, wants me to play scra-per for him. Got hired to do so and paid up front. Top shelf blood on that one. I'll be parking my ears with Nix there soon. Lots of things to gather from Karthy."

A quick list follows:
Trade routes, powers, proxies, whos willing to give the laugh to the hardheads, whos the hardest head, and a final note: Some mertbashers doing scribbing work for the book on anyone who turns stag on the burg.

[Fatherchaos]

A quicklist is provided, apparently in no particular order for some purpose:

three garnets, a gold ingot, clay ring mould. Find Allenia.

[Fatherchaos]

Dur'Thak sits down, many hand drawn maps and various lists in hand.

"Piking sod of a tiefer, I left my journal behind when I set to Karthy. Spent a great number of weeks there and had to use a few pages from the book of cant I had on me to do what needed to be done. Guess Rhynn will wait another tick, its near finished anyways. As it stands, I have gotten peery with quite a few Darks over in Karthy. May have even made two allies to give the place the laugh with if the gears run backwards."

"I believe I found the master at arms after a bit of hard tongue work. Neira, the local dock tout, had a soft spot for her little's. She was a hard cage to crack, guess a berk looking as I do doesn't inspire immediate kinship"

Dur'Thak grins, continuing.

"I played nice with her, knowing I'm too shadowy for most at first peer. Started with general questions, then leaving. Good slip-the-knot type work on that. I kept careful with my words, only asking her what should be asked of a tout to a new comer at first. Then I made a bold move. Offered her some jink to know who might run the shipping in the area."

"An easy question, one that any local would no, and that most outsiders might not. She didn't think much of it, but slowly I greased her with enough Jink that she took to me a little easier. Found out that she had little biters, set of two of them apparently. Blighted things. I offered her a shivless hand on that, brought her some food for her and the biters. Turns out she was down on her luck and running shy on the greens needed to pay for her kip."

"I'll need to remember that one: best way to grease a mother is to feed the runts. She took an almost immediate liking to me then."

"Played a few more weeks with her as cony, working information. Finally Neira told me some good darks. Who she knows that runs the trade routes, that a few of the ship captains are unhappy since the large galleon in the port has taken most of their buisness and charging extra taxes on that. Seems those berks play by their own rules and have ties with the mertbashers who keep the locals stiched."

"Things come to Karthy one of two ways, by ship, and by caravan. Though most of the caravans don't seem to be carrying rough goods."

"Neira was a good friend of one of the Ship Captains who'd turn stag on the local hardheads if he had the chance."

"I took to talking with the cutter. Old sod, seen enough of my types that he didn't even pause a tick. Good thing Neira sent me, He trusted me only because she did."

"He had a lot of darks to spill. Been around Karthy for a long time, seen the powers come and go. Wants his buisness back, and a better life for his ship-mates."

"He spilled quickly enough that the master of arms calls most of the shots, and works closely with the mertbashers who styx any of the local red runners. That gave me an idea where to find the blood, see what I might be able to procure."

"This was a true trick of the hive here. I found out some time ago, through a carelessly made healing potion, that refined stink beetle gland, when mixed with a few drops of bombarder acid, produces the worst case of diarea this side of the Styx Oarsman."

"I plied my trade on that, worked to refine the stink gland into a colorless and orderless extract.. Pretty potent stuff. Turns out any acid activates its latent property. I suspect the diarea more an act of the resultant gas escaping the bowles after churning in the gut."

"Needless to say, I procured four fine bottls of Wisp whiskey I believe it was. Laced them all lightly with the refined extract."

"From there, was a simple delivery to the tout in other side of Karty who seems to run the local pawner. Paid her up front to deliver the goods directly to the Master at arms. She did, and well at that. Whiskey late in the day, signed from "Very Content Merchant" usually does not last the night. Neither did the Master at arms."

"I found him and a few of his mertbashers turn out quick enough. Guess my latest refinement was not what I had intended. The berk came out puking, whiskey still in hand. Apparently he had pulled the stoppers on all four bottles I had sent him. Don't think he'll expect the bub at all."

Dur'Thak chuckles loudly

"It was a good thing I was invisible off in the distance with Nix, if I was too close the berk would have heard me lauging at his expense. After he finished spilling himself to the floor, him and his cutters wandered over to the Xeenite temple for some "confession." Berk has the sckness all right. I snuck into their room before the invisiblity wore off to see what I could gather. Just a ledger with a few names, read through it quickly,but nothing else I could do. Can't take it or I'll be scragged and dragged for sure."

"After all that was done I took to the roads and swamps about Karthy. Got peery with the troll caves and their swamps. Something was amiss there, notes below in the maps. I also tracked out the caravan trails through the hills below some place of elemental binding or such. Nix got peery on what seems to be a portal of sorts, didn't swim out to it, but could study much of it from a distance."

"Never felt so, fulfilled, doing skiv work; better than applechasing."


Dur'Thak looks over his notes, making meticulously accurate copies. His tail lashes continously, obviously more pleased with himself than he admits after venturing in Karthy for so long.

"Need to deliver these to Starr at first light."

// OOC: loading images storybook fashion as quickly as I can into the photoalbum. Will have link here after work.

[Fatherchaos]

"I've done what I can in Karthy. Found strong stype over there on a few bloods, cost me a few merts, but was worth the effort. Seems Neira has taken a bit to me also, those gifts to her biters greased her right out of her shadow."

"Now to see how everything plays out. I admire Starr's noble goal to help out that pearl blood, but, I'm in it for . . . less favorable reasons. Need to see how I can turn this further in my favor, hopefully peel a few more merts before everything is scribed to the books."

"Can't find much in way of the sewers for the place, guess a port city doesn't need to flow things very far. But, that galleon will be trouble. Well armed it is."

"Nix and I have been planning an ambush using carefully placed fire bombs and alchemists fire. May take the ship if I can smoke them out instead with the choking powder . . alas that is the better option. Leaves the goods intact. I'll need to work on a sizeable amount of bombs then . . . have nix sneak them onto the ship. Well placed sonic sling will do the trick to pop'em open. That will leave the hardheads themselves."

"Seems they come out in force themselves to put down those who'd turn stag on the burg. Naturally they have a kip somewhere . . . Neira told me to stay away from one of the buildings near the arms master in the upper part of the district. I'll give that place a peer once more and find out. If it is theirs, then I'll have a use for my firebombs afterall."

Dur'Thak rubs his hands eagerly, content in his schemes.

// Dur'Thak's current plans are as follows:
1. Lace the building that houses the guards that help quell the populace. Create a series of Firebombs under invisiblity in good places. Use them to bring the building down on the guards who aren't on the good side of things.
2. Stink out the galleon if its armed to the teeth with the people we need to oust. Nix will lace the galleon with as many stink bombs and choking powder as can be set about the place. Plans are, if needed, to enlist another thief to lace the place with stink bomb based traps, and have nix activate the rest. If required, Nix can take out the guard in the crows nest with his poison sting and just start tossing down as many choking powders as needed.
3. The commotion on the ship should rouse the guards. Especially the ones that need to be taken out. As they step out of their building to quell the uprising *boom* off goes the alchemists fire and firebombs. The amount of alchemist fire and firebombs around the building will be *excessive* - Dur takes pride in his work.
4. Marshmellows and smores for everyone.

[Fatherchaos]

//
/*
Link to gallery here: http://www.layonaraonline.com/forums/photos/photo-thumbnails.asp?albumid=465

Map given to star is the last in the set. Review in order of oldest image first for a storyboard type read. I'll pull the non interesting images after the quest is complete
*/
//

[Fatherchaos]

Dur'Thak sits in his new favored spot deep in the Seperent Mountains.

"It seems that Hlint has been overrun by good natured drow and their ilk feeling the underdark. I had never seen their kind in Sigil or the Outlands before, but I knew of them from some fabled stories passed to me during my time as an Elven youth."

"One particular berk has had me park my ears a few times for the wig-wag. We found common ground for our disdain of surfacers, which for me includes most clueless. Few cogs out of the gears on that, but . . ."

Dur'Thak shrugs, continuing to write.

"Nepp'ayko or some such, call him berk for short. We've traveled and rattled our bone boxes with each other a number of times now. He's taken to teaching me Drow and has made a great effort in doing so over the last Month. I must admit, it rolls through the dice easier. Some elves have called it harsher . . . I found it more Dwarflike with its sharp consonates and dark undertones."

"Which ever way the ring turns I don't mind spilling the meaning of the cant for a language used by the deep dwelers. They might have some usefull darks to spill when the time comes . . . Far as I know their kind has regular dealings with fiends. A good set of darkbeards to know."

Dur'Thak grins strangely, something churning in his mind.

"Speaking of Darks, I need to get this barmy book of cant to Rhynn some time soon. Just needss some finishing touches."

"That reminds me of another bit of cant thats been banging around my box. Some chit named Ashiel, whom I've seen around a few times before, asked for help a tick or two ago. Turns out she was following in the footsteps of some shadow magic she had seen a long time ago."

"I aided her, better than sprouting roots in the barmy burg known as Hlint. After all, she needed a rounder who knew their way through the serpent mountains. I have spent enough time rock-hopping out there that I more than knew my way about."

"She sought a cave that held some shadow gem, where living shadows and such wandered. I knew of only two caves of any worth that might match that dark. There was the Drow temple in the river of shadows . . . but I've not managed to find my way in. And there was another cave northward towards the Rifts. . ."

"Neither proved to be what she needed. So we took to wig-wagging it in the local fort. Seems a cave may have been out in the desert. Hit the bricks out of there, and 'lo, an entrance that I had never seen before had been uncovered. Must have been swept clear of the sands covering it."

"Blitzing inside we found an ancient abandoned city. And that is where the clueless turn stag to shamblers as is said in the hive. Kinson, that barmy sod of a lighter, figured the best way to keep the rest of us safe was to trip every trap and laugh in bedlam till the dusties found us. If I only had a quiet moment, I'd have styxed that berk."

"We made it through with our bags in one piece to a warding chamber. Had a chest in the middle guarded by four electrical wards. Figured the best way to get to the chest was to sc-rap the traps. Each ward marked a door towards it, so we started to head through."

"Naturally, traps are on the ground, and doors locked tighter than the brick beast, I gated Nix in. Oi! And the clueless find the razorwash! Kinson, that addle-cove of a blighted lighter, immediately took to attacking Nix! I parried his clumsy sword blows. Luckily, Nix liked Ashiel and was still willing to get peery on the traps."

"Kinson ran a red one on that, wanting only to see Nix get styxed back to the abyss. Barmy sod. Nix cleared the door, and opened it. Bally little blighter then took to getting a hug from Ashiel . . . can't say I blame the little biter."

Dur'Thak shrugs, mouthing the word 'Imps.'

"Not but a few paces down, Kinson kept barking off at me to gate Nix back out. 'This is your last warning' The sodding piker kept saying. 'Good, now if you'll stitch it so you don't get us all scragged.' I shot back to him. Guess he didn't understand the meaning of his own words. Last time I check with primers 'last' meant that they were going to stitch their bleeding boxes and do something! Guess that addle-cove wouldn't tumble to the dark of his own death if he shived himself in the cage with his own leg. Rawkin showed enough respect to ask me to send Nix out. He's a worthy cutter, and seeing as Kinson wasn't going to cross shivs, I put Nix back to the planes. Shot back at the bloody halo why he wouldn't travel with an Imp but would travel with a fiendling in the shadows. All he could say was that he was here cause I was a friend and Adam to Ashiel. Bleeding clueless."

"A hidden door was found easily enough in the storage room to the east end of the wards, the only one that led down."

Dur'Thak thumps his tail sharply to the ground, obviously agitated.

"We found our way to a darker place, no thanks to that bleeding piker. The fiend in me certainly felt at home in that lightless place. Torches could be faintly seen in the magical darkness, guiding the way to various dead ends. Eventually, through more error than trial, we found our way to a crafting station housing onyx, copper, and what appeared to be some sort of dark furnace. Intriguing . . . I've mapped out the area to the best of my knowledge, should I ever find my way back there again.

A few notes and sketches follow of the place, including an outline to the furnace, and a snaking map, showing the way through the darkness.

"I found some Onyx in the pale light of the furnace, hidden in a vein of copper. Good thing I'm handy with the gems. Pulled them out safely for Ashiel."

"Then she disappeared. Dark on it as far as I could guess was that she was summoned by what she sought. Things turned for the best when the ring came full circle. She reappeared, with her shadow gem, and back to Pranzis like a cony. I had to give the place the laugh then . . . something in me was a bit addled, and I felt it best to part company."

[Fatherchaos]

Dur'Thak sits down, staring absently at his journals. Finally he lifts his broken quill, scribing slowly.

"Recent events . . . have been . . . uniquely disturbing. The creature known as the soul mother apparently found me . . . I had been traveling with Ashiel, Dulan, the berk who tossed acid on me, and Elrend and another I believe. We set ourselves to the Giants. There we fought great battles, laying waste to many."

"At one point . . . the Giants ambushed our sodding troupe. I must have been around the clueless for too long, for I stood my ground. I heard the elf in me telling me to run . . . The fiend in me only laughing. I played hardhead for longer than I ever will again. I was softened by the 'friendship' I have been shown of late by so many."

"I stood ground till my spells failed and I felt a giant cleave me in half . . ."

"And then . . . I felt the grasp of the Soul Mother as I passed to the Abyss."

Dur'Thak hisses angrily.

"My thoughts beyond that are empty, but I recall Dulan, raising me once more. Asking me to thank him and Toran. Thank him for failing to sling his sodding favors! Never again will I leave my life in the bleeding grip of some clueless primer!"

Dur'Thak shivers, his tail lashing violently.

"I have heard those who feel themselves grow weaker and empty as though a hole was bored into their bag. For me . . . it was different. I could feel that fiend that crawls in my thoughts gain a stronger voice as though the elf in me grew weaker. It is of no matter . . . Hiver's creed need only be forgotten once to get a bag styxed to the deadbook. I'll not root myself again when I feel the Lady's shadow upon me. To the pits with these clueless!"

Dur'Thak slams his journal closed, marching deeper into the Serpent Mountains to take refuge on his dark thoughts.

[Fatherchaos]

Dur'Thak sits, thumping his tail ryhtmatically against his chair in the Great Library. Many books lay sprawled out before him. Casually, he leans back and lifts his Journal. Many pages have been devoted to recent magical study. Various alchemical properties, magical enhancements, locations of gems and other resources also sprawl multiple chapters. However, amongst all the notes the most striking collection of recent information is a thick and detailed chapter on the anatomy and properties of various lesser-fiends and celestials.

Dur'Thak flips past those pages to find a fresh sheet. Placing his quill to the paper he begins to hiss slightly.

"The Lady's shadow has thus far strayed far from me. I can feel a strength I have never felt before grow . . . such power and balance with sling and shiv . . . always I can feel that hunger for more though."

"Recently I explored the river of shadows based on the accounts Kiva had passed on to me. It is a fell place, certainly one worthy of a spot amongst the ring. I've taken a sample of the water from the river to try and discern its nature. Thus far I can not tell much, beyond that it is tainted with a faint power. Some dark that has yet to be tumbled to. My best guess so far, is that it is somehow seeping power from the Drow temple I have found, pulling its strength from the under-depths. Many creatures in the area are powerfull bloods beyond, worthy of mention in the outlands."

"Yet still, the lower denizens of the planes mark my worms. Fiends, in all their scheming, carry a great power unto themself. In time, I hope to unlock such secrets . . . perhaps awakening my own inner nature."

"Why, I ask myself, is a simple matter. I was to be born of a half-demon, yet carry only a taint of the fiend line in my blood. Such magic my family must have wrought in the hidden forests of the great ring to draw the taint from my mothers womb. I should be thankful for that, for I am thus not a cambion or other half-bred denizen of the Abyss, at the whip of a greater blood. However, I have now questioned myself as to how much of the elf-blood truely remains. Such was first brought to light by some addle-coved hander seeking greater worms within herself. She called me a half-elf, which I refuted. But given further thought . . . perhpas it is more true than I realized. Half-demon and half-elf . . . yet the blood of the 'ri is nearly purged. . . does that make me a tainted elf or a half-elf with a part that does not complete the other half. Such would make me incomplete, so I give the tag to my worms that I am merely a tainted elf then, but will study this further."

"On all accounts I have begun a careful study into the nature of the fiends. There must be a way to combine their brute magic and nature with my own. Such will be seen in a turn or two."

"Things will be much easier to research also, as the ones known to me as Kiva and Jareg have adam'd me a kip within their soon to be fhorged craft-hall. Such access to roughs and darks I can feel is close . . . It will aid my research greatly."

"Other bags I have met recently have also been particularly interesting. The one known as Rayenoir has me twigged for a dark she half-spilled. The rumored imortal elf blood mixed with fiend might yield enough power to keep this sodding bag from being dragged to the war when Skall reads my tag. Also, Its . . . strangely refreshing to meet another cutter from Sigil. 'ri's chance in Nessus I thought the dark on that, first tick . . . but this prime must have had it's shell cracked. Its just easier to wig-wag with certain cutters who know the dark on the great ring, and aren't clueless as a primer."

"Speaking of Primers, it seems Rhynn's taken to the cant well enough. Good to see her loosing the green one, shes turning into a regular ward chit that can spill darks easily enough. I'll train her when I can, but I'm now in Hlint so rarely . . "

"There are others whom I have come to *know* in greater dark. Abigail, the other tiefer who burned in celestia with me. It seems shes taken to the dark of the infernal tongue . . . by the ring I may have found a cutter finally who can teach me better than that addle-cove'd Nix. Hit the bricks with that chatty imp . . . but some progress was made. I'll have to ask the chit to spill what dark she knows to me; by the pits the ring continues to turn in my favor."

"A few worthy bashers; Michael, Rugo . . . And yet another clueless primer whom I'd like to styx - Lue."

"Nepp continues to provide the dark on the Drow language . . . I might develop a worm for it soon enough."

Dur'Thak chuckles, lifting a scroll outlining the methodology to convert bat guano into a flaming explosive sphere.

"Soon."

He mutters, chuckling darkly, as he carefully puts his scrolls and journals away, turning back into his pile of books.

[Fatherchaos]

Dur'Thak stood fast amongst those who had chosen to cross the Styx willingly this day. Shaft after shaft had been loosed, his body working rhythmically in each shot. Knock, pull, aim, loose, knock, pull, aim, loose. Over and over he repeated this cycle, his elven affinity for bows shining in this desperate hour. His hands were bloodied, his wrist sore, and still he knocked another shaft.

Dur'Thak had even seen the dark Broegar himself, having scryed the fell Lord as Varkha attempted a fateful assassination with a massive satchel charge. Such craftsmanship, Dur'Thak truly admired every bit of it, having made many such creations himself by plying his interest in alchemy.

But Pranzis was lost, the mouth of Broegar calmly bade everyone their leave of the fallen city. Dur'Thak, however, slipped back around to see if he could get back at Broegar himself. Such was the inner hatred, fueled by his Tanar'ri blood. Unfortunately, a fiendish sentry spotted him, or more likely sensed him. It wouldn't take long for the invisibility to fade, so Dur'Thak blitzed out of Pranzis like a berk from the Rotters.

********************

Dur'Thak charges through the Serpent Mountains, rasping heavily between his protruding fangs. He reeks of death and charred flesh. Visibly marred by many fresh and near fatal wounds. His trusted Katana bounces painfully upon the lacerations of his back.

"Run," he thinks for an instant, calling upon his fiendish resilience just to keep him alive and moving. Another hop over a stone. Dur'Thak lets out a feral hiss, trying to put the numbing pain in his ribs out of his mind. "Faster, nearly there," he thinks, continuing to push himself harder and harder. Yet another boulder blocks his path. He sprints harder, steeling himself for the pain he knows he is about to endure. Leaping over the rock Dur'Thak tumbles deftly back to his feat, nearly crying out at the excruciating pain. Sparing only a quick glance behind, Dur'Thak sees the winged fiend in pursuit.

With frightful speed, Dur'Thak hears the flap of leathery wings pass over him. Such feral grace, the grace that only a Fiend could admire. The winged Bloodwar Veteran lands directly in Dur'Thak's path, knowing that he would have no other option but to stop. She had followed him a great distance after his second incantation of invisibility had worn off. More than anything, Dur'Thak knew that she was toying with the near dead Tiefling.

The creature smiled darkly, flicking her forked tongue as Dur'Thak backpedaled to stay out of reach.

"Run, run, run, my little 'ri'kin." the fiendish woman mused "I have such uses'ssss' for once such as'ssss' you. Broegar will..."

As the fiend spoke Dur'Thak realized that he was a few paces away from the stairs down the mountain. His goal was just within reach, yet, a plane away. Hissing at the Fiendish woman, Dur'Thak quickly withdrew and smashed a ceramic ball at his feet, interrupting her mid-sentence with a loud bang and blinding flash.

Smoke, simple and effective, instantly filled the area. He knew that the Abyssal spawn would sense him easy enough, such was the curse he carried as a Planetouched. And yet, that is exactly what he wanted, her to rely upon that tingling sensation that another of her own was nearby. He leapt forward tumbling to the side of the partially surprised fiend. She used her innate powers to dispel the smoke with a great force of wind, and lunged past Dur'Thak, completely oblivious to him.

Then the woman paused, there was only an Imp before her where Dur'Thak once stood! Nix, smiled gleefully, as he had practiced this game of flip-the-fhorge before with Dur'Thak. The fiend had been tricked for just an instant. She had focused entirely on the single location and faint Abyssal taint. As Dur'Thak rushed past and Nix took his place, she was caught unaware. And that was exactly what had kept Dur'Thak alive for the greater part of his flight, using the familiar terrain to catch this Fiend unaware. Dur'Thak had lost count of how many trees had suddenly jumped in her way, winding paths reversed, and surprised Bugbears had slowed her.

Nix laughed and pointed, fading from sight and flying off quickly. The woman hissed and quickly turned with such speed that only a truely enraged fiend could muster. She glimpsed Dur'Thak, just disappearing over the edge of the cliff, as he began his downward sprint. He ran along the side of the stairs, following a rocky path never meant to be used for such a downhill endeavor. The fiend was blinded with rage, she would rip the Abyss out of that Teifling! She crushed the rocks she stood upon as she leapt after him.

Dur'Thak continued to sprint down the side of the stairs long ago engraved into the mountain side. He had done this only once, and never, ever, had he gone this fast. 'Too fast. Far too fast,' He thought to himself. In but a moment, he was no longer running, but tipping the rocks with his feet between giant strides, just to keep properly oriented in his descent.

He would need to time this perfectly. If he missed his mark, then he would fall a few thousand feet to his death. Hopefully his tainted soul would pass before the fiend could reach his mangled body. Even if it only meant that he would meet her in the Abyss first. At least he would be in control of the moment, he thought.

Dur'Thak took a deep breath, knowing that the wind was about to be knocked out of him. There it was, the outcropping, outstretched like an earthen arm, reaching towards the other mountains. Dur'Thak sprang forward, outstretching his arms, and timed his reflexes as perfectly as he could. His leap was a bit uneven, his right arm higher than it should have been. Crack! He grabbed the outcropping and swung around. He felt the bone in his right arm snap, could feel his body stretched painfully, every ache, wound, and pain magnified ten fold. He held on, knowing that he just needed to swing far enough.

Dur'Thak didn't have the strength to pull himself back together to roll into the cave he knew of. Instead of the controlled entrance he planned, his body crashed painfully into the cave wall, bouncing him inward like a broken toy. Howling in pain, he tried to stand and fell. All he could do for now was crawl, pushing mostly with only his left leg, deeper into the cave. Hopefully he could reach the cracks and twists just a few lengths away, there he could loose the Fiend for good! He heard a sharp whistle and a crack as the Fiend flew past. Apparently she had hit the outcropping. Dur'Thak smiled grimly, hissing as he pushed on.

He continued to crawl and listen. In what seemed like a lifetime, he soon heard a sickening crunch. Later, Nix landed at the cave entrance, eyes wide, staring down the sheer-face of the mountain.

"Master! The kooatg-bepoot is broken! Master? Mas..." Nix looked on, as Dur'Thak slipped into the dark realm of unconsciousness. His last thoughts, "Pranzisssss has fallen, ssssshouldn't have gone back...ssssodding primersssss..."

**********************************

Dur'Thak wakes, rolling out of his bed and to his feet groggily. The memories of his deeds during the fall of Pranzis still fresh in his mind. How long had it been now, he thought grimly. Pranzis had taken a strict new order, oddly resemblant of the Harmonium.

Carefully, Dur'Thak slid to his favored stone chair, carefully hollowed at the back to make room for his ever lashing tail. Only the faint glows from the various beakers adorning the alchemical bench and skull candle flickering casually upon a blackened alter light the room. More than enough for his fiend touched eyes to read by.

As Dur'Thak's thoughts comes into focus, he decided to spend the morning reading on the Drow transcripts that Nep'pakyo had provided. The language had not proven as difficult as one would be led to believe. Certainly far simpler to learn than Dwarvish. Or was it the combination of Dwarvish and Elvish that made this new tongue feel so familiar. Progress had been steady and effective, and already he understood more than he let on. Dur'Thak chuckled, thinking to park his ears on Nepp's next round of gossip from the deep.

Dur'Thak looks up for a moment, eying the door and recognizing the trip plate he has carefully concealed beneath the dragon rug. Smiling with a dark satisfaction, he returns his gaze to his journal.

"Its odd how the ring turns sometimes. One tick, I'd shiv the nearest primer for a stinger, next, I find myself standing with them before a host of my hated kin. I did what I could, but Pranzis fell. The troupe I was Adam'd with would have had a Hardhead's salute for their organization. We guarded the main gate, and with it, fought the main force of Blood's army."

"For a tick, I thought these clueless might split the bean and hold the invading force at bay. Hope . . . only a clueless holds to hope. Our armies were eroded from behind.”
Dur'Thak stretches, and rubs his right arm absently, a faint memory tricking him that the pain was still there.
“Clueless primers think they've a chance against the bloods of the war. But it's done, Prantz is now a new burg with a new set of guvners. Odd how this prime works.”

[Fatherchaos]

Dur'Thak rests silently, cloaked in shadows, near the great tree in Hlint. Musing to himself he thinks of a lost friend, whom he has not seen in ages, but the one primer he would have bitten the Iron for. 'One of two.' he corrects himself mentally. Speaking fluently but softly in Dwarven he sends a wayward message into the void. "Geddrin, where ever ye are lad, hope you found your brothers."

With his peace made at the spot where he met his friend, Dur'Thak walks out of Hlint. His new posistion amongst like minded individuals had given his fiendish mind something that it could understand: Darks and Scribbers of the Dead Book. How fitting he thought to now be in such a key position, that by nature did not trust anyone or anything.

Dur'Thak just laughed at it all. Perhaps in time he would make his way back to Sigil and reopen old alliances . . .

[Fatherchaos]

Dur'Thak writes rather hastily, as if something else planned is about to happen.

"Turns out that addled rounder Ozy's split the bean about as long as his bag hopping can. Put the wig-wag to him to see if he'd be willing to spill the dark on the fiend cant only to find out that even as a puppet the Yugoloths still call in their skins. He said Key might be up to the task, but I'd best root my worms on another cutter's stype. Not sure shes twigged to playing a greybearded mimir."

"Muir's an interesting chit too; remindes me of an indep crossed with a cipher. Barmy as an Athar at the spire . . . but has a good set of worms. She might be useful for a jink-stitch in a turn."

[Fatherchaos]

Dur'Thak sits down in a snow packed encampment, deep on the Barbarian
islands. His broken and worn quill barely able to scribe to the frozen
pages.

"Met a cutter named Han Wai Clawfist. Seems he's adam'd to the Red
Bear. I was able to dig a few keepers without wig-wagging; turns out
the Red Bear's not so barmy after all, just runs a black one for the
slavers. Will be good to get him skinned with the network and possibly
adam'd with Saviar. Will need to check a few rigs I've set in motion
to make certain the slavers don't catch a skeg of what I'm up to.
Jareg's got the taint, but doesn't seem as adept at the cross-trade.
Then again, he can bark the primer cant, which I've never had the
worms for."

Dur'Thak chuckles, watching his breath steam in front of him.

"So far I've gotten as many darks on the Black Rose as a wormless
Mimir. Need to find out who the berk is. A tag for every shiv, and a
shiv for every bag. Apparently the Black Rose berk's got his worms
twisted t'think that I'm not a stag turned. Guess the cutters only
gotten the cant on my upper ring runs." Dur'Thak pauses a moment,
considering his thoughts deeply, "good thing too."

"Had a long wig-wag with that blood Ozy, barmy piker. Few slivers of
cant from 'em got me more worried than a leatherhead at metal cup only
bar. Seems since Sinthar's been penned, this prime's playing shifter
to the ring. Never heard of a prime with its own ring, cant just
doesn't sit well with the rules of three. Guess this prime's a
Demi-plane . . . only thing that marks true in my worms. Cant goes
that in a tick or turn this primes going to soloth itself back to its
own ring. Perhaps its just another infinite member of the ring . . .
Key says better to be a dreamer then in the dream, I say she's addle-cove'd
for not wanting to freely travel back where our kind is strongest.
What ever darks are running by rules of three on this I'll need to find
a good gatekey to make sure I'm not forever stuck on this sodding prime."

Dur'Thak's notes trail off into a series of inscriptions citing interview
sources on members of the slavers organizations and other tidbits of
information regarding The Black Rose.

[Fatherchaos]

Dur'Thak's notes have become increasingly less legible and hasty, as if many things are moving that haste has become a grave concern.

"I've returned after a long rig deep in Dregar to discover the cross-traders and cant mongers I run with have all but turned stag on their skins. As such I've taken control. Show these berks a little Abyssal order in getting things done." Dur'Thak chuckles at the sentiment of Abyssal order, knowning full well the play on words it offers.

"The other cutters who've stuck around are good enough by me, only ever trusted one of them and that chit's solothed on us. I'll need to get the cant on that . . . If shes slipping the knot on something I'll need to know what it else, else I'll be walking the crow's mile. So many rigs to put the orbs to."

"Hunting down Abigail's greybeard has taken half a turn. I think I've worked my rigs to catch two tags. One who knows and one who is. Have yet to spill the long wig-wag with either yet, but sent a bird with my intentions. Learning the infernal cant so I can use it against my own kin and all the other fiends and blighted lighters has not been the easiest rig I ever set my cage to. After so long of self tutoring from capture leafs and stones, I've only a rudimentary understanding at best. Nix, has not proven of further use. His impish brain-box has too many rotted worms to spill the dark to me. Some cutter named Max apparently has the deep dark on this, and he wig-wags the cant well enough, but aside from a smattering of flavorful greetings we've yet to work things very far. If only I could mark a sodding greybeard to spill the dark, it would be only a short matter of time."

"I've also taken a fresh rube under my wing. Turns out a half-orc of all things wants to learn the dark on slings. He's barmy to be willing to learn from a Tiefer, but then again, I've a few extra worms than most. He parrots the primer cant worse than I do, but I can tell his worms will be sharp enough to understand me in time. And if he understands me, he'll have a much better chance of slinging on the planes knowing what I'm willing to share with him. Seems him and I share the same concept of balance between sling and shiv, but I'd tumble he's far more"

"I've taken a bit of delight in teaching him through a series of tests and worm-knots. As he figures out each rig I grant him, I offer more dark, and a few cantrip notes for him to study. Lucky berk, I even felt like buying him a spell book and writing notes for him." Dur'Thak holds up two books of rather high quality, recently treated with some alchemical concoction to be more resistant to the elements overall.

"Some part of me hopes he earns this book. Then the abyss starts barking to go styx Yastrand for taking so long to finally dig it out of the sodding crates. Barmy Scra.pper, paid him a mert bar just so he'd make up his sodding cage before I grew wings."

Dur'Thak pens one last note, the single word "Mimir" followed by what appears to be a detailed drawing from memory of a metallic skull of sorts. It would seem this only has meaning to the author.

[Fatherchaos]

Dur'Thak sits quietly in his study at The Network's headquarters enjoying the recent silence in the halls. Occasionally he cocks his head to better hear the calls of the guards in the distance, hoping that he might catch something of interest.

With a hiss he begins writing in his journal with a special ink of his own concoction.

"It would seem I am now the berk running the bag. Jareg's blitzed, Kiva's turned stag, Rhynn's not barked with me for a long tick. It would appear only a few of our numbers remain."

Dur'Thak chuckles darkly.

"So few . . . and yet now I am the leader of the cony's cage. I'd tumble that it's best I take the perch. Time to show these berks how a true ri'ling runs rigs. Well, the first tick I can. I still need an Adam with enough worms that can mark the cant. Won't do to well at the top if none of these primers can parrot my screed."

"Looks like I'm taking to the spire climb by choice."

Dur'Thak observes a short list he's created, naming guilds he should visit and potential names to enlist. Quietly he casts invisibility upon himself, resets the trap outside his private study, and slips out into the night taking care to fully lock down The Network's primary facility.

[Fatherchaos]

Dur'Thak rests quietly deep in the High Forest at a favored spot of
his. A favored spot high in a tall oak, far from everything, yet offering
a view of all below. One that he has not been to in many years.
Quietly he pulls out his journal. Half asleep from exhaustion he
writes slowly.

"I've scoured all of Dregar, with no sign of what I truly seek.
Certainly, I have fed the Abyss so much in recent ticks that even that
dark part of me feels contended, for now. Hopefully all my effort won't
lead me to the blood crows. Finding a greybeard for the lower cant has proven . . .
almost bally. Hard enough to learn it on my own, worms twist naturally
for it I'd guess, hated baatezu and all that cant, but I know my bone-box
could use a lash of polish. At least I've finally banged my
brain-cage on the dark who taught another of my kind. Shouldn't be
long even if the slinger doesn't take to Tieflings. I'll keep the name unspoken
and unscribbed, for respect of the boxed Abigail. So many tags penned to the book,
boxed and in pieces, scragged, yet this Spiv endures."

"Czukay has proven to be a very useful cutter to bang around Dregar
with. His kip reminded me of some of the Senser's rooms for the lower
spawns, and he's as barmy as a Spire God, but when it comes to scribbing
for the book I've met few better. Even if he did loose himself in the
deep. 'course his life scored me a sparkle. Hard run to skin that
razor, but, all the same."

Dur'Thak falls asleep briefly, slumped over his book. A quick glimpse of the
Abyss in his dreams jolts him back to the waking world, as it always does.
With visions of Succubus and Manes fresh in his mind, he slowy returns to
writing in his journal.

"Seems I've a way of attracting addled primers like Loth's to a bleedin-cony's
soul-bag. Kinai had some cant that hit the deep dark on my worms, seems
she has a familiar hunger as I do. Though not the same, as she flees from
nothing she can name and I hunger from within. All cant spilled, shes addled.
Seeing as she has been Adam'd with me on a number of rigs I thought it best
to give her the mimir on what's kept my brain-cage from banging off. Focus.
Just a simple matter of directing the blackness at something, wild as it may be.
I keep this up I'll be like the blood bard."

Dur'Thak chuckles, but is rather discontented with the thought.

"I offered her one of my potions made to a makeshift skin-rag for her. If she keeps
cutting at herself, won't need to wait for her to bite the iron. All the same,
I spilled cant with her for a few ticks to try and get her brain-cage to bang on
some stype. May have to bang it a few more times on the cant, if she doesn't catch.
But I'm for the mazes if I have to do it again. Rhynn had the same worm
rot a turn or two ago. Offered her one of the sodding redders that remind me of
primer razorvine back when she didn't have the sneer. Seeing as it was the last of the three
I took to catch the dark on if it can do anything with the burners and bubbelers.
Last of the first three, no fourth rules on that. Was nice to be rid of that cake.
Nothing useful for burning, blasting, or slinging, but it seems to have a power
that makes primer chits grow a worm. Just cage screed though, no real rule to
run it under. Won't score any more of those, this bags tired of mindhacking empty
cages."

"So I diced on trying to make her more effective when shes part of the march.
Key may be addeled, but at least she didn't catch the cove. Kinai could be almost
as good as a crow feeder."

"On more important cant, seems the Shiek's found out who I am. Tried to keep that
dark stitched for a long tick, letting the other cutters run the rigs. All the same,
I've got some cant now. He's twigged that I put the Tanar'ri's promise between those
in Hurm and the Red Bear. Guess where the red bear went with his fleet was the true
home of this sod. I'll need to get the dark on why Saviar and the Bear are running
a red one at each other, and more still why Saviar was twigged for one of the Red Bear's
Adams. Port Hampshire's got cross orbs and ears, so anything I do best be out of there
till I fill the quipper with screed."

"And I still need to find a rough mimir, this books almost blexed to the blinds. Perhaps
the bard has some keepers. . ."

Dur'Thak smiles softly with the thoughts or manipulating so many at once, leading to the
first truely restful sleep he's had since he left Dregar.

[Fatherchaos]

Dur'Thak rests quietly in a cave deep in the Serpent Mountains. The same cave that he had once hid in while on the run after the fall of Pranzis. The painful memories of his injuries however were not forgotten, as he winced upon seeing the rocky outcropping to the caves entrance.

Flying to the cave had certainly proven a much simpler process than trying to sprint down the side of a mountain. Dur'Thak landed softly, his wings fluttering about him almost soundlessly. The cave appeared massive now, as if it could house an army, but Dur'Thak knew that was merely an illusion. Concentrating, he released the Pixie shape he had taken, and watched as the cave transformed from an enormous cavern to an adequate chamber. Size was often a matter of perception, after all.

Finding his spellbook and journal, he settled down in the deepest and most comfortable spot of the cave that he could find. The quiet still night around him quieted the abyssal hunger and gave him the rest he had so desperately been seeking. This spot would be suitable to gather his thoughts.

Pulling out his quill, which was ground now to nothing more than a tiny broken nub, Dur'Thak begins to recount the many events that have transpired over the last few months.

"Some ticks back Rhynn flipped the Fhorge on me and dumped some primer tagged Larg on my chains. He was vining for something he parroted to be 'Guild Insurance.' I can only tumble that Rhynn was playing the barmy Mimir to that gleaming pip. I may have put the bone-box chitter to her, tagging her an alu'ri, but it seems I'm not too far Curst of the Hivewards. I'm not twigged to let more primers into my rigs, but, I'll keep my orbs parked for this bleeding cully if he survives."

"The shadow-chant's been beefing that Ireth's returned from the slavers. Seems she's a bag to keep a worm on after all. Barmy chit still owes me a drink, and I'd tumble she's got the dark on why. Guess she never knew the lenghts a tiefer would go to when they've been torqued." Dur'Thak chuckles darkly, apparently warding off some other grim thoughts. "I've stamped-and-clamped my black-run on her, so I'll not feed her to the crows any tick soon. Certainly, I must say, after I caught a skeg on what it was I sought, I almost had respect for the primer. Once a primer though, always a primer. And they say us rounder's are boon with a sneer, I say they are born with blexed orbs."

"I orbed the smoke pouring out from the slaver lands a few ticks back, so it would seem what ever rig was run over there will be casting cogs for a few ticks to come. Best that I keep the laughs under gatehouse for a tick or two while I bang around for the black stype."

"I also sought out the one *known* as Ozymandias, figured as a plane blood he might have the dark on where I could score a Mimir. Guess he's too twigged for the primer's living books, so I'll have to keep my orbs and ears parked a bit longer. Or perhaps in time I could put the teeth on the cogs for one myself. The ring will tell."

"I also took a rig with the one *known* to me as Key. Seems she has a bleeding gatekey that scored her a taste of the Iron from something *known* as the Malar Panther's. I orbed her pathing from Dalanthar down the serpent mountains, had the look of the fated on collection day she did. Seeing as I was headed to path that myself, I took up the shadows behind her. Turns out she got boxed in the River of Shadows, and she caught a skeg of me gathering Ginseng. She was twigged to have me help pull her soul from the ground, said she could take the Panther off me, she barked that she laid out the red carped. I'd not really run rigs with the chit too often, so her worms didn't seem to work the cogs like mine. She barked to pull the Panther, but how could I pull the panther with so many surrounding it? Figured I'd roll the dice and see how it worked out so I shot for the snake nearbye, knowing that all the sodding bags there would would run a black one on this bag."

"Turns out, when I run rigs with the barmy chit in the ticks to come, I best make clear on her cant. She had a good bit of worm-web that she thought I already had the dark on. Best not make that mistake twice, or I'm for the mazes. The barmy Hende almost had me jangled up there."

"I found the light in the Lady's shadow though. By luck I caught a skeg of Key's marker and took to forming a few grinners and mephits on it. The primers I was running with didn't seem to get the giggles like I did. Guess they just don't understand a good joke when they orb it."

Dur'thak hisses slightly, his happy mood dissipating.

"I caught the grinner recently for the deep dark on shifting my bag. It is . . . addictive to say the least, like all slings. Each form I take takes a piece of me, and I most of it. For a while, even the abyss took to the blinds. But, such things do not Soloth the Razorvine for long. Even with these new forms, the hunger grows, as does my concern. Every since my blitz to the Abyss . . . things have been unsettling."

"At least I've kept my worms to the rakers. Scoring the dark on the more common fiend tongue was . . . consuming. Then again, how do I compare two infinites against themselves. Hated Baatezu and Yugoloths vs. the Tanar'ri? Two infinites and a third? Bleeding sevens, the dream is always the same. It's good that they stalemate each other in the war. With dark on their chant, I'll at least be better off when I'm scragged and penned to the Abyss."

Dur'Thak sighs softly, lowering his head to stretch and calm himself.

"Always the Abyss. There are darks that crawl in my cage that I've yet to fully tumble to. And there is only one that I know of who could offer me the mimir on what I need. Shantara . . . She will need to answer to her spawnling. Perhaps I can pass through Arborea, though I will need Rhynn's assistance. It is doubtful that I would slip the knot from the abyss a second time."

Following is a short map to what appears to be a portal, indicated to be guarded by creatures of water. A list of 'gate keys' follows, and what appears to be a heavily correct map of a few locations surrounded by a forest.

"Kinai has also proven a bit more worthy a chit than I gave her orbs for. I'd tumble that she just needed a blexing fiend-spawn to tell her to find a focus. More and more ticks to I find her in my shadow. I've kept my orbs peeled on her abilities, and aside from being a bally primer, the chits turning out to be a real crow feeder. And more a surprise than I'd care to pen to the leaves."

"I've made her an Adam, but have yet to spill the full dark. In a few ticks, if her bag holds, I'll parrot out the stype. Till then, I best watch her closely. And I'll never understand why chits have to touch everything. The tails there . . . I don't need to grip their cage to *know* it. Primers."

"With her help I did score a top-shelf helm that would make even the hardheads run a green one just to catch a skeg. Best keep careful on this, I'm not twigged for more cake and cakewalks."

Dur'Thak turns a new magical helm over in his hand, examining it closely. Silently he packs away the new helm. Motioning to Nix, they both fade from sight. Dur'Thak chuckles as his body twists and changes to a new form before flying out the cave entrance after Nix.

Flying above potential prey was proving almost addictive as the magic involved.

[Fatherchaos]

A massive spider crawls about the high ceiling, apparently taking care to examine various weak spots in the structure, and patch damaged or leaking sections with acidic venom and webbing. To any observers, it would almost appears as if the spider was doing repair work. The sinister magical aura surrounding it does not pass on any feeling of comfort.

Suddenly there is a trashing and faint chirping in the distance. The massive spider suddenly freezes as if taking care to locate the source of the commotion. After a moment the creature moves across the ceiling with feral speed. Trapped in a section of fresh webbing is a frightened treebird, its wings stuck to the thick webbing. The frightened thrashing increases as the bird notices the strange arachnid moving very quickly directly towards it, mandibles waving and chittering constantly. The spider spreads out its fangs, bitting down deeply towards the bird, tearing it free of the webbing. Still tangled the bird trashes wildly, hoping to get away.

Slowly and carefully the bird is moved, held still by the mandible. Creeping towards an open window, the spider lowers itself on a thick strand of webbing. Peeking out slightly from the shadows, the spider shakes the bird loose from the webbing, releasing it uninjured through the window. Those wandering the Prantz Haft-lake district can clearly hear the high pitched chittering and flapping of a frightened bird taking off at full speed. Carefully the spider closes the window while shrouded in shadow.

A few additional hours pass, and with most of the work complete, the spider carefully climbs down from the celing along one of the walls. Waving its mandibles, the spider form slowly twists into an armored Tiefling, who pulls a bird feather free of his mouth.

Sitting down to his journals, Dur'Thak begins to scribe recent happenings.

"The shapes I have caught the mimir's-source on are proving more useful than most slings I've tumbled to. Perhaps there is a method through these mutations that I can permanently enhance myself with the dark abyss that burns within. I will keep that dark locked, as such changes will not be without a spire-climb turned cakewalk."

"The Chit's taken to playing the piano in the entrance hall. I'm not twigged for the wooden menace, but he keeps her box-stitched. I've caught a skeg of her playing on occasion while I work the ceiling in the spider-shift, but she's not orbed me. Best not, or she'll run in the lady's shadow faster than a 'ri in Nessus."

"I've not seen Czukay for a few ticks, and I'm curious how the barmy rouder is getting on. He had a usefull knack for styxing leatherheads and bleeding conys. I'd be torqued to find the swaggering berks been penned. Perhaps."

"Some addle-coved primer approached me today, apparently twigged for shiving. Didn't take long to torque me, so I motioned the sodding berk to give the skiff the laugh. He had the size, but not the worms. Never put a foaming Tiefer to your shadow. When he was within sight of no one but me, I shifted to the deep crawler while orbless. Then I sank in my shivs. I must have met a Kurtulmak, 'cause the basher held his own more than I had a keeper on. He took to screaming about a 'mantis man' running down the road to a group of others. I chased him till I caught a skeg on the other primers. I've orbed them before, but I'll not pen tags. Knowing better than to stick around, I pathed the other direction, shifting out of the bag in case I was followed. Nearly killed me doing so. Almost styx'd, I took to resting in the woods. I'm not sure how, but the berk found me. I chuckled, he chuckled, then I blex'd his cage with a sling. Two shivs later, the berk had the hardest lesson he will ever know. Never approach a tiefling near death that you just tried to styx. I dragged his body off the road and left it there to rot. Serve the bleeding prime right."

"Which reminds me. Looking back, Kinai caught a ratatosk and took to nicking herself. Something ran red in my worms, but I offered a few skin rags to hold her together. If she didn't want the Golem's worm she shouldn't have come to me. I'm not twigged for the darks of power-quippers. I can keep flesh on, but too much fiendish 'medicine' have I studied over the last turn to be friendly on the growth. Turns out I was twigged to help the chit, but was too narky to keep my worms straight on the bubbler. I must have used too much venom in the healing ichor, cause it sent her cage soupward of hopeless. Last thing I needed was the locals asking why some chit was beefing in my kip and forcing me to a deep dip. Eddy blex'd the light in her orbs with a light crack. Good thing I keep it around. She certainly earned the book for that. Knowing how her bag works I pulled a 'loth on her and got her to sign a skin when she came back next orb. Now at least she'll not be nicking herself, or listening to the dark chant from any other fiendling. Sodding primers."

"Mares came to Hempstead recently, but I didn't sense anything else. Wayward of the lowers? I doubt it . . lowers don't travel without purpose, even the addled 'ri have a good set of worms for rigs. Best I keep my orbs peeled."

"Now to put order to the mazes."

Following are detailed alchemical notes and further elaborations on a device called a Mimir. It almost appears as if a blueprint is under development.

[Fatherchaos]

A hastily written note is handed to a constantly blabering Imp, who upon seeing the note just continues to chant 'Imp'o'Gram' in an excited voice. The note reads:

Chit, given what you've tumbled too you're certainly walking in the Lady's shadow.

Keep your orbs peeled for anything out of sorts, and trust the responses of those around you. The best dark I can spill is that the skull you carry might be soul-stitched. If you feel something catching a skeg, move. And the skull, get rid of it. Immediately.

Seek Rhynn, she has many deep darks on illusions. The fingerpainter is likely just blex'd without any real slings. Shiv him right in the beater next time you see him.

Grab a few of my bombs from the chest. Best to do damage in an area to bleed out the prime-berk.

A brief description follows of the methods to disable a certain magical trap on a door and chest are outlined, as well as brief instructions on usage of the alchemical bombs.

I'd suggest you doughty up, but I doubt that would peel the orbs of those who are foaming after you. Stick with Hawk and any other worthy cutter you trust. Use the portals regularly to keep the sod-bag guessing.

And one last warning chit, given the darks you've spilled. Don't show me the key.

Unfortunately, the note was never delivered, as Nix, having delivered many such notes in the past, used the portal near the summoning chamber and flew in the direction of the Freelancers.