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A Ghostly Mourning

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: [2152]
Author: ELPHIA13
Date: 05/11/2020 03:24 AM EDT
Subject: A Ghostly Mourning


[OOC- It was brought to my attention that a log might be a bit much for the forums so I rewrote a summary of the morning. I hope this helps and sorry for the double post!]

After enjoying a fun early morning of shopping to help welcome newcomer Kellecezza to Icemule Trace, some strange things started happening in the frozen town. Though the day had been a calm one with relatively good weather, a sudden gust of wind knocked the Dhe'nari elf right onto her back as if the town itself were giving her its own playful welcome. Glaring up at the sky, Elphieya apologized for the temperamental weather while resisting the urge to rub a spot on the back of her own head that throbbed once with a phantom pain from all the times the wind had knocked her flat. A nearby halfling joined in on the musings over the weather claiming it must have been the wind. Elphieya was just happy the storms that so often plagued the small town were staying away. The words had barely left her lips when a blanket of storm clouds filled the sky. The diminutive sprite shouted at the sky in defiance as the first flakes of snow drifted down to land on her cheeks. Her protests were pointless of course; the sky is after all only a sky.

As the small group huddled closer to the struggling bonfire, the storm gathered intensity until the area was blanketed in snow and it became hard to see much. Out of the corner of her eye, Elphieya noticed a small halfling woman that she didn't recognize. She turned with a smile ready to greet the stranger and blinked in confusion when the spot where she had been was empty! A quick discussion with the others present verified that they had seen her too. Everyone looked slowly around the area allowing them each a better look of the halfling when she appeared a few moments later. Smaller than usual, her most striking feature was her beautiful indigo eyes. Her second appearance lasted no longer than the first and the space where she had clearly been only a moment before held no signs of being disturbed. The area on the ground where footprints should have been was smooth with freshly fallen snow. Since a group hallucination seemed unlikely, the only other rational explanation was some type of spirit or ghost but many questions still remained. Was she a friend or foe? Why had she appeared? Was she coming back? Despite the driving snow obscuring sight, it soon became clear that the early morning streets of Icemule were practically deserted.

A shuffling figure wandered into the square most likely also seeking the warmth offered by the bonfire. The forlorn abbess is as recognizable in Icemule as Hee Haw the mule and just as easily overlooked. She wanders the streets muttering and mourning after her lost sisters stuck in a perpetual loop of regret and seemingly oblivious to the changing world around her. Most barely offer her a glance when she comes around but Elphieya turned to speak to her like she would any other townsperson. Considering she appeared shortly after the spirit it made sense to the sprite that perhaps she had seen something. Asking after a halfling in a town founded and primarily run by halflings was a fairly poor attempt to engage the abbess and left Elphieya stammering and blushing out of foolishness. It was at this moment that Dhairn strode confidently into the area. Elphieya felt a surge of relief at seeing her dear friend. Surely he would be able to offer some guidance and help on the strange happenings. He greeted the small group who wasted no time in filling him on the halfling woman. The discussion flowed easily as they tossed out ideas and comments about who she might be and why she had appeared and just as quickly disappeared. It was into this lively conversation that another voice chimed in.

The forlorn abbess spoke clearly, "The air is full of ghosts. I hear my daughters, my sisters, when the wind howls. Will they ever rest? Can they ever be redeemed?"

Perhaps it was a brief moment of lucidity. Perhaps it was something about the ghost. Perhaps it was just luck or coincidence. Whatever it was that had prompted her comment, her words cut through the morning air and all present turned to her to try to discuss what she had said. Although never truly engaging in what could be considered a conversation, she did say some more that made it clear she was speaking of the vereri who reside in the ruined temple outside of town. Having just moved to Icemule, Elphieya knew little of the history of the abbess or her sisters but Dhairn and Bodad shared some of what they knew. None of it was adding up! It was clear that she was speaking of the vereri but as a helpful old halfling nearby pointed out, the halfling woman had been no vereri. The abbess wandered west leaving the four by the fire to discuss things on their own.

Bodad, Dhairn, Kellecezza, and Elphieya sat and talked trying to make sense of what they had seen and heard. Different thoughts were mixed together with no real answers ever coming from the exchange. The halfling had striking indigo eyes. Could that mean something? They huddled together for warmth and shared some breakfast while mulling over things. With no real clues to go on other than a disappearing figure and an arguably addle-minded abbess it seemed unlikely that they would be able to get very far in their search. Dhairn suggested that perhaps with a talented ranger the ghost might be able to be tracked but how do you track a ghost who leaves no footprints or signs that she was even there? Having exhausted all possibilities and most of the supply of bacon from the cart, Dhairn declared that the best course of action was to seek out the abbess and see if she had anything more to say. Everyone turned to Elphieya to lead them on their search and she nervously admitted that following her might be a bad idea. Fortunately for the directionally challenged Aelotoi, the good thing about creatures of habit is that they are fairly easy to find if you have been paying attention. Knowing the way the abbess normally wanders, and after being reminded that she had headed west, Elphieya lead them west and they quickly came upon the abbess outside of the tavern.

Everyone tried their own ways to engage with the woman. She was offered gentle words, tea, alcohol, and hugs but nothing seemed able to fully penetrate the fog of confusion brought on by years of pain and regret. Patience is a powerful thing though and as they spoke to her she again began to speak of the past more clearly than she normally does.

"It was so very long ago. The past is the past, and cannot be unwritten." Dhairn and Elphieya prompted her to continue and her next words were laced with pain. "So much screaming. And then the silence was worse," she finished in a voice barely above a whisper. Her words hung in the air sending shivers down Elphieya's spine that had nothing to do with the weather. Although she was asked by each in turn what had happened, the only other words she spoke were of a wall. She inquired if the wall was finished though her question was asked to no one in particular and she never made eye contact. As if pulled by some unseen force, the abbess withdrew into herself becoming completely unaware of those around her. Dhairn turned to Elphieya and suggested that perhaps a healer might be able to reach her in a way others could not. The link that empaths use to heal does touch the mind, but a mind is much harder to heal than the body and Elphieya spoke her hesitation over attempting something like that. It's not that she couldn't link with the abbess, but she would never link with a mind that was not willing or able to give consent even if it was to try to help.

A halfling out for a morning stroll overheard the discussions about trying to heal the abbess and added his two cents. He was quick to dismiss the idea as pointless saying you would have just as much luck speaking to a brick. With his flippant comment, he went on his way not giving the matter another thought. It pained Elphieya to hear any person be spoken of in that manner. She had always held the belief that no person is beyond help or redemption and her heart ached to think of the pain that the abbess must be feeling. Torn between her desire to help and the ethical and moral considerations, Elphieya shifted uncomfortably while Dhairn tried to think of ways to help bring a person in trauma back to the present. While they stood there indecisively, Kobane walked up to the group. Some of the pain around Elphieya's heart eased at the sight of him and she moved to give him a hug. It didn't take long for him to be brought up to speed. Kobane looked thoughtfully at the abbess. Surely he was remembering all the times she had wandered aimlessly in the streets and a touch of skepticism crossed his features as they told him about her speaking more clearly this morning. Having exhausted conversation as a possible tool, several turned to magic but nothing they tried worked to pull the abbess out of her stupor. The broken woman wandered off as quietly as she had first appeared, and no one attempted to follow. It was clear to all present that at least for now there was nothing more she could offer and it would be best to leave her in peace.

There was still so little to go on, but it was decided that a trip to the temple to search for the wall the abbess had spoken about would be the next logical step. The small group went and attempted to search around the temple and even spoke to the vereri but to no avail. They released a few souls offering the only form of peace they knew how to give before moving on to the next possible place that could hold answers. Kobane suggested they go look around the ruins beneath Icemule. It was clearly a place where many souls were lost so it stood to reason that maybe she was another of the original occupants who had been stirred up by their actions in trying to help Savarium pass on. After searching through the ruins near Savarium’s old home, the group returned to the square. No further answers were found, and the day slipped back into the regular pattern of warm companionship and friendly banter that the cold town is so well known for. Still, the events of the early morning lingered in Elphieya’s mind as she pondered on what it might mean.

A chewed up corpse; the plot thickens.

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2193
Author: DETHKLOK
Date: 06/08/2020 06:47 PM EDT
Subject: A chewed up corpse; the plot thickens.
"Great, another damned storm," Kobane thinks to himself, after getting knocked over by the wind for the millionth time. As he struggles with his own thoughts, a female Elven wizard arrives, declaring a corpse has been found outside of town. Kobane, along with several other prominent people of Icemule Trace, go to investigate.

Close to the South Gate, we discover the halfling corpse, badly chewed and missing a leg. He is oddly thin, and glimpses of an oddly blue-hued scale armor can be seen underneath heavy furs. After some examination, a waterlogged old journal is discovered on the corpse. Written in halfling, the only noticeable thing is a name. M. Brindleburr.

We resolve to get the journal to a town official, and head to the South Gate, where Rex is informed of the corpse. He summons some guards to retrieve the corpse and carry it off to Clovertooth for further investigation. A town official, Reiphe, shows up to investigate, and Kobane hands the journal over to him for safekeeping. Reiphe seems wary of a halfling member of our party, Hazelnut. Words are exchanged, it seems that Hazelnut was a student of Reiphe's some time ago. Kobane vows to keep an eye on everything transpiring, and wanders off.

The Ghost of Nihala and the Crimson smoke: An eyewitness account

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2232
Author: ELPHIA13
Date: 06/16/2020 03:45 AM EDT
Subject: The Ghost of Nihala and the Crimson smoke: An eyewitness account
Elphieya sat at a table in the Nightowl Pub with her ever-present jade journal. She pulled out her white quill and a bottle of ink and set them both on the table. After flagging down a nearby waitress for some water, she flipped open the journal and turned to a blank page. Her head hurt and her heart was heavy. It had been a draining evening and she wasn't sure that writing what she had seen would really make a difference, but it was all that she had at her disposal to do and she needed to do something. Sitting by idly and waiting for something to happen did not sit well with petite Aelotoi. Ellerel said make accounts of everything seen and heard and so she made a vow to herself that she would keep doing just that.

She dipped the tip of her quill in ink and began to write.

< I thought the ghost might be Nihala. The eyes; it was the eyes. When she first showed up, those indigo eyes were so distinct and were the one thing that everyone there noticed. When we were talking to Dhairn, we wondered if anyone else in town had eyes like that. Then that Walesca woman showed up.

Here the sprite paused and muttered to herself while her wings twitched with agitation. That woman really bothered her. She dipped the quill in the bottle once more, tapping off the excess and took a calming breath.

< Other than Walesca's political views, I couldn't stop staring at her eyes. They were so similar to the ghost's eyes. My mind went to Nihala Winterberry, the mayor who had given her life to save the town. A violent death, indigo eyes. Could it be coincidence? I talked it over with Kobane and some others and he seemed to think it might be her. My plan was simple. The next time the spirit showed up, I would call her by name. Try to see if that got a response or if she could communicate to us if she was or wasn't Nihala. Tonight, I got the chance.

A shudder ran down Elphieya's spine as the things she had seen earlier in the night flickered past her vision. The crimson smoke, the shriek, the cold. Her wings snapped in response to the shivering that her wayward thoughts had caused. Resting the quill on the bottle of ink, she closed her eyes and massaged her temples. She needed to focus and be organized about this. Stick to what happened. Perhaps someone more knowledgeable than her about these things would be able to take what she had seen and make more sense of it all. Retrieving the quill once more, she turned back to the half-written page.

< I almost missed her. I was getting ready to leave to leave the square on a task for Halline when I saw her, but more importantly heard her. It was the howl, the pain. That was impossible to miss, and the way she almost unraveled before my eyes. I knew this was my chance, so I spoke her name. Nihala. Eyes filled with agony appeared but flickered away so soon I was not completely certain I had seen it. So, I tried again. Several of the spectral threads seemed to gather themselves together, forming into light that had the faintest suggestion of a hand. It reached toward me but couldn't cross the entire distance before coming apart with a crackle of energy. That felt like it was an answer, but I wanted to be sure. I asked her for a sign, some way she could tell us if it was really her. A few moments later, the faint smell of winterberries suddenly filled the air. It had to be her.

Elphieya paused her writing to gather her thoughts and dipped the quill in the ink once more. Her hand shook and a drop of ink splashed on the page. A throbbing at the back of her skull pressed in on her but her headaches were something she was used to. Using her thumb, she wiped gently at the drop to try to keep the damage minimal. Reapplying some ink to the tip, she tapped off the excess and continued with her task.

< Roelon showed up just after that. We were talking about the ghost being Nihala when she appeared again. As the spectral threads again began crawling back into a feminine shape, an intense chill sucked the heat from the air. Fingers of frost formed over the bench and my breath turned into puffs of mist. Serpentine shreds of crimson smoke rose from the ground, snatching at the spectral figure, which howled in agony! Her howls shook me to the core. I didn't know what we could do but I wanted to do something! I had to help. How could I see and FEEL that type of suffering and not do something? The crimson smoke held the spirit in front of us and there was nothing I could do! The crimson smoke convulsed, suddenly gaining mass and form. In a single horrific contraction, the tendrils of shadow tensed and dragged the specter into the earth with one last shriek of pain!

A cold that lingered even in the warm room of the pub left Elphieya shivering and her wings trembling.

< I was scared. Things like that, dark things, they press in and make me feel so small. But Roelon decided to taunt the thing that had taken Nihala. He mocked and said that if it was so powerful it would show itself. It didn't, but it did respond. I looked over and saw blood dripping down from Roelon's nose. He looked like he was in pain. I checked him for injuries but there were none that I could see, just the blood. It was talking to him, he said. Like something in his mind, slithering under the surface, hurting him. There was a voice. "I cannot be baited so easily, Giantman." It continued to wrestle with Roelon for a decent amount of time. I tried to link with him and see if I could soothe the pain or help him resist whatever it was, but nothing seemed to help. Casting a minor sanctuary was the only other thing I could think to do. He used some oils and blessed water from near Ronan's shrine. Whether it was one or the combination of all those things, it eventually left him.

Having gotten through the worst of it, Elphieya rolled her shoulders and stretched out some of the tension that she had been holding. There was one last part that needed sharing before she could put down her quill for the night.

< Roelon wanted to go to the abbey and investigate. I couldn't let him be alone, not after whatever it was had attacked his mind. So, we went together. He took me to a place with a wall that had been built to hold back something or someone. I could hear snarls and thumping which was disturbing but nothing so out of place. Then I heard voices. They came briefly and left just as quickly as they had come but he heard them too. We couldn't make out what was said. We explored the library but found nothing and eventually returned to town. Ellerel was there in the square when we got back. I was so relieved to see him because he was just the person I had been hoping to speak with. He asked me to relay to him all that had happened, so I did my best to do just that. He told us that he thought he had been wrong about the spirit and that it most likely was what remained of Nihala Winterberry. Then he shared that he hadn't wanted to worry us before but that when we had first walked around with him that he had smelled hints of dark magic like an old odor almost dispersed by the wind.

Another wing-twitching shiver and a quick dip of her quill in the ink and she wrote the final bits of her thoughts.

< Ellerel said we have to deal with whatever this evil is. He is not sure if the ghost of Nihala Winterberry was stirred up because of the election but the evil is the main concern now. He plans to try to consult with others who are what he deems “more skilled at magic” than he is but that given time he might be able to help us figure out a way to deal with this newest threat. It seems that many of the town's elections have been tainted and Ellerel is determined to not let this election go that way. He told us that any witnesses should write down all they saw and heard which brings us to this moment now. I hope that writing these things down will help in some small way. I am worried but I will do all I can to help.

Elphieya finished her writing and looked down at the two full pages of ink. She could see the spots that had been difficult to write were a bit more scribbled than her normal neat script. Using some setting powder, she sprinkled the pages and blew off the excess to be sure there would be no smudging. Carefully closing the journal, she put away all her supplies and stood up. The coming days might bring more darkness and threats upon the town and she wanted to be ready to meet them as best she could. But in the meantime, people still needed to be healed and rescued. She smiled tiredly and finished the last bit of her water before turning to head back to the square.

Re: A red mist appears...

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2242
Author: PRAEFECTION
Date: 06/17/2020 01:21 AM EDT
Subject: Re: A red mist appears...
I brain farted and didn't realize I posted under the wrong account name so here's the log again!

Okay so some of you might have noticed Jiarine acting a bit stranger than usual in Icemule's towncenter on the 16th. This is all OOC context but thought it would be fun to share what actually was going on. Feel free to ask about it and she might tell you or lie to your face. Sorry for the log being a bit of a mess. I didn't have a lot of give and take with other players which meant I cut out almost all of the normal day to day spells, chatter, etc.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a red wisp of smoke curl around the neck of the mule statue. No one else seems to see it.

You ask, "... did you see that?"

You reach out and touch an ice statue.

Sculpted from glacial ice with a pale blue tint to its crystalline structure, the mule statue is easily fifteen feet tall and towers over the town's center with an obstinate look carved onto its face. Its feet are splayed and set in a display of stubborn immobility. Given its considerable size, mass, and inanimate nature, the mule is unlikely to be led anywhere.

You say, "I AM not seeing things but that statue."

The red wisp of smoke streaks up the sleeve of your fox fur jacket. You feel a strange, unnatural heat as it travels up your neck, and then a moment of pain as it digs into your ear canal.

(Jiarine presses her fingers against one ear.)

You mouth, "Out."

A strange and foreign tangle of thoughts intrudes upon your own, and you sense amusement from the invasive presence.

You say, "Wait..."

You vigorously shake your head.

You repeat, "Get out!"

Speaking concernedly to you, Asben asks, "Are you ok?"

You say, "No! There is something wrong."

Speaking to you, Asben asks, "What's wrong?"

(Jiarine taps her temple.)

You say, "I am not crazy."

Speaking to you, Asben says, "I know you're not crazy."

You say, "Something moved from that damn statue onto me."

A low chuckle fills the back of your mind. "Fascinating," it says. "I've never worn one of these before."

You seethe, "I can feel it."

Speaking confusedly to you, Asben asks, "What do you mean something moved from it to you?"

You hiss, "Get out!"

You say, "You are not welcome."

You loudly exclaim, "Do I need to light myself afire to get you to understand!"

Speaking to yourself, you say, "You are not wearing me, presense."

Speaking to you, Asben asks, "What's going on?"

You say, "Something is trying to invade my mind."

Speaking deeply to you, Roelon says, "Fight it. It is weak."

Speaking confusedly to you, Asben asks, "An entity moved from the statue to you?"

You think to yourself, "I am not some weak willing human to be taken over. No."

You exclaim, "Yes!"

"It would do you very little good," the voice responds. It is husky and dry, like the crackling of a dying fire. "I have seen the disdain for which you hold these unwashed, huddled masses... and I share it."

Speaking to himself, Asben says, "What the hell."

Jiarine smiles just a little as she nods.

Asben says, "Not if it's in her head..."

Roelon annoints the ground with some oil from his vial.

Roelon deeply says, "Don' let it stay."

Roelon nods to you.

You think to yourself, "Yes, the filth that roams here freely."

You say, "It speaks to me."

Speaking to you, Asben asks, "What's it saying?"

You say, "Oh nothing much."

You think to yourself, "Do you have a name?"

Speaking to you, Asben says, "I don't believe you."

You coolly say, "I would never lie."

Speaking to you, Asben says, "I know you better than that."

Roelon deeply says, "Ye were nae like that ah momment ago."

(Jiarine massages her temple slowly while she gazes into the bonfire.)

(Asben grabs your shoulders and shakes them.)

Speaking deeply to Asben, Roelon says, "...ah don' like this. Don' let her go into the fire."

A swirling cloud of shadow forms around your right hand as you prepare Sleep...

You gesture at Asben.
Your orase runestaff glows intensely with a verdant light!
CS: +547 - TD: +394 + CvA: -19 + d100: +66 - -5 == +205
Warding failed!
Asben's eyes roll up into his head as he slumps to the ground.
Cast Roundtime 3 Seconds.

You say, "Stop it."

The voice becomes smooth and liquid, like satin-sheened silk as it coils around your brain. "I have no intention of taking your will from you. That sort of brutish nonsense might have suited the others, but not me. Rather, I think we might have common aims."

You murmur, "Tell me more."

(Jiarine cocks her head upward as if she's listening to something.)

Asben glances at you.

You think to yourself, "I am willing to work with things that have... power. Do you have that, nameless being?"

You soothingly say, "Shh, everything is fine."

Speaking to you, Asben says, "You're acting strange, even for you."

Speaking to you, Aeith asks, "Can I ask... who you are talking to...?"
Asben agrees with Aeith.

You feel your heart still in your chest. The space between beats seems to stretch into an eternity as your fingers tingle and your chest burns for air. And then, at last, the heartbeat comes. "I am not often asked to demonstrate, but yes, you might say so," it responds.

Speaking to Aeith, you say, "I have no name to call it."

You get your legs tangled and nearly tip over!

You place a hand over your heart.

(Jiarine holds the edge of the bench to steady herself.)

You say, "Oh my."

You think to yourself, "So much power. What else can you do?"

Speaking concernedly to you, Asben asks, "Is it hurting you?"

Speaking to Asben, you ask, "What is pain?"

Speaking to you, Asben asks, "Is that you or it?"

Asben stares at you.

You ask, "Pain is fleeting when something is gained, no?"

Asben rubs his chin thoughtfully.

Asben says, "Not always."

The voice turns into a deadly rasp. "I am not an entertainer. But I and mine know the paths that lay beyond death itself to life and power and strength everlasting."

Speaking to you, Asben exclaims, "Get out of her head!"

You think to yourself, "I understand. These small minds cannot grasp the full extent of what I see. Again, is there a name to go with your thoughts in my own?"

Speaking to you, Aeith asks, "Is it passed now?"

"When the time is right, and when you have proven yourself trustworthy... then, and only then, will you come to know my nature," says the intruder, its touch beginning to recede from your thoughts. "The others were less cautious, less careful, and they are dead and gone."

Speaking to you, Asben asks, "Is it still with you?"

An animated patchwork flesh monstrosity stomps the ground, sending vibrations trembling outward from the point of impact.

Elphieya confusedly asks, "Is what with her?"

Speaking to Elphieya, Asben says, "She said there's something in her head."

Asben says, "It came from the statue."

Speaking to Elphieya, Asben says, "She is not acting like herself."

(Jiarine laughs lightly, her eyes focused on the bonfire again as she replies in turn, "I assure you those of my Court understand perfectly.")

Speaking concernedly to you, Asben asks, "What is it saying to you?"

You think to yourself, "I have arranged for my share of... accidents nameless thing."

The voice continues, "Play your part well, and you will stand atop a mountain of those unworthy of your presence." With that, the contact breaks, and you exhale a single puff of vapor. @ $P1 exhales a single puff of mist into the cold air.


The voice continues, "Play your part well, and you will stand atop a mountain of those unworthy of your presence." With that, the contact breaks, and you exhale a single puff of vapor.

(OOC) Auchand's player whispers, "Oops!" LOL

Asben glances at you.

Speaking to you, Asben asks, "What was that mist?"

Unseen Enemy

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2247
Author: ELPHIA13
Date: 06/17/2020 05:15 PM EDT
Subject: Unseen Enemy
Elphieya stood in Town Center in the light of day. The way the light reflected off the ice was pretty and things seemed calm today but she still couldn't shake the ominous feeling from last night. All that had happened sped through her mind disorganized and disjointed. There was too much. She massaged her temples and pushed back against the pain that always plagued her.

It had started with that elf that Asben called Jiarine. Something from the statue. Something dark inside her head. It was different than when it had happened to Roelon though. The way each reacted had been different. Then there was the herring. It was all over the ground and one was even in Elphie's hand. With the way she had been forgetful recently and because she always carried some in her bag, she had thought perhaps she had picked one up without thinking or even taken one out of her bag. Thinking back on it now, she's not so sure. The way the herring decayed and then the maggots. Darkness and evil. She didn't like the way it seemed to be toying with them. Nuc and his ritual also made her uncomfortable. She didn't approve of using that type of magic and considering the dark magic that was already threatening the town, she felt what he had done only served to make it worse.

Her headache intensified as she tried to think through it all. The smell. Arkati help them. The stench of decay. It reminded her of the way the landing had smelled when the blight was killing the land. Death, decay. Such a pervasive stench. It had been unpleasant to her sense but Kittai whispered a magical phrase and called on the wind to come to their aid. She kept a breeze going to try to help keep the smell at bay. But it didn't seem to be helping Kobane. He was looking worse and worse and getting sick in the wastebin. He spoke of it being inside him. Again, the enemy had slipped inside one of them. It tore at Elphieya's heart to see him become deathly ill and be unable to help. She tried but she didn't know how to fight this, she didn't even know what it is she was trying to fight! How do you fight an unknown, unseen enemy that can not just attack and hold a spirit and affect the world around them but enter the mind and attack from within? How do you fight what you can't see? No magical protections had seemed to help or deter the attacks. They came with little warning. Elphieya felt her frustration build. As if they needed anything else, clouds formed and a storm took hold of the area.

While she had tried desperately to help Kobane who kept getting weaker, Nuc had started to accuse her of being the reason he was sick. She tried to stay calm so she could attend to Kobane but with Nuc continuing his raving she couldn't concentrate. After warning him that if he didn't stop trying to do his ritual and stop accusing her that she would make him sleep, he just kept on so she finally snapped. Calling on the favor of Ronan granted by being a Master of Voln to make someone sleep had never ended up hurting anyone that Elphie had seen. Sometimes the friends who gathered in Town Center would get playful and make each other sleep. Geojordak had been put to sleep by countless and never been harmed. All she had wanted to do was make him stop! He slumped to the ground in a peaceful sleep. What happened next was shocking and chaotic. Darkness cloaked the area and then something attacked Nuc instantly killing him and not just that but transforming him into a lurk! With so many in the square who were still early in their learning, it wasn't surprising that most fell under the terrifying influence of the lurk. Elphie reeled from the shock of what had just happened but realized she was still in control of her senses. Looking around she saw most were paralyzed with fear but a few were still standing like her. Moringrimm fell under a flash of gnashing teeth.

Kittai reacted first as thorns rose from the ground at her command and struck the lurk. Elphieya finally managed to push through the shock and grabbed her runestaff. All the screaming and the horrible sounds emanating from the lurk made Elphie's sensitive ears ring until she was mostly deaf but she didn't need to be able to hear to cast her spells. She stood by Kittai and continued to use her magic to reach inside the lurk and break bones. Roelon was also unaffected by the lurk and swung his blade with speed and precision shattering the lurk's arm. Elphieya channeled her magic one final time and felt the lurk's ribs break under her spell crushing his lungs and instantly freeing Nuc from the curse and influence of the lurk. After seeing something so horrific, the effects lingered for some time. She worked with Kittai to try to help fight against the fear still holding so many hostage. This wasn't the first lurk she had seen so she knew that there was not much that could be done except to wait for the effects to fade. Everyone was in shock. Some grabbed at their weapons while others rocked in fear. Once everyone was able to move on their own again, Elphieya switched her focus to healing those who had been injured. Considering everything, they were probably lucky more had not been hurt or killed. Kellecezza was hurt and it soon became evident she had been hit and infected by the lurk. Elphie did all she could to make her more comfortable but once again, only time would truly free Kell. Another healer arrived and helped to keep Kell from bleeding to death while the infection worked through her system.

Those gathered tried to talk through what had happened but as Roelon pointed out, there seemed to be more questions than answers. The sickness that had held Kobane hostage at last passed but left a lingering weakness. Kell recovered from the lurk. Teaberry was struck ill for a short time but was released too. Whatever this dark magic was, it moved at will among them. Elphieya trembled from the most recent display of power and worried about what might happen next. Several of them joined together to try to investigate the abbey. There was nothing to be found at the wall and they returned to town with no more information or clues than they had left with. Elpheya couldn't shake the feeling that something was still with them. Her mind was struggling to focus and the horrible smell of death kept coming. Thank Jaston that Kittai and Roelon kept the breeze going. Elphieya knew her nerves were on edge. She regretted the way she had snapped at the halflings who had said something about Walesca being right. She would have to try to find them later and apologize.

As they all stood there, something white flew past. All she caught was the impression of wings, something crimson and white. It moved so fast and the snow obscured most of her vision. A group of them tried to follow it and caught a few more glimpses but whatever it was, it was moving very fast and they weren't able to keep up. They returned to the square. Looking around, Elphie saw the same fear and worry that she felt reflected in the eyes of most gathered. Everyone stood a bit closer to friends and loved ones and some still held tightly to their weapons. It was clear to her who had come out on top this night. While most of them had escaped with their lives, they all had been shown just how powerless they were to stop whatever this evil was. It chilled her to the bone and made her wings tremble. She hoped and prayed that Ellerel would come back soon with some type of news or a plan to help them battle whatever or whoever it was that kept attacking them.

Aftermath

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2248
Author: GEHAYI
Date: 06/17/2020 11:34 PM EDT
Subject: Aftermath
Teaberry stayed inside the next day. Between Kobane's violent illness, Nuc transforming into a shambling lurk, Sorlu's biting words about Walesca possibly being right, the snarling beyond the wall in the basement of the Abbey, the white and red thing flitting through the streets toward the east, and her own choking...well. Most of it was a dreadful confusion.

The lurk had been the most chilling. Despite trying to catch a glimpse of it, she still wasn't entirely sure what a lurk was. Whatever it might be, though, it had terrified her into immobility within seconds, rendering her unable to stand or sit or speak. She'd been helpless in the thing's presence. Her fellow Icemulians had uncursed her at least five times...and she'd remained stunned, shocked, and petrified.

The worst of it was while she had screamed and drooled and babbled in fear, she'd had an impression of something worse than the lurk sidling in and out of the Town Center, watching with gleeful malice. It might have been her imagination. Might have.

And then a stargazer had appeared in the streets talking to a friend of his. He'd apparently seen Nuc turn into a lurk, and that had made him believe that Walesca was right about the tallfolk. As if only tallfolk turned into monsters. As if they did it constantly and deliberately. Ridiculous. Teaberry had never felt a greater impulse to transform someone into a toad. Not that she knew how to transform anyone, but she couldn't help but feel that if the stargazer was going to have toad-like thoughts, then he might as well look the part.

Elphieya, whom Teaberry always thought of as Elphie the Gentle, had shouted at the stargazer and his friend. Teaberry had nearly applauded.

An elf named Sorlu had baited people after that, asking how anyone knew that Walesca wasn't right. Teaberry had snapped that Walesca was a cold, cruel woman who hated and feared the tallfolk and who wanted them to know their proper place as halfling servants. This had shocked more than a few elves, for elves never seemed to see themselves as servants, only as masters. Yet even then, Sorlu had not stopped, asking if what Walesca wanted might not be for the best, for she seemed a woman of strong conviction.

"Strong convictions aren't necessarily right. And how does it make us better to act like our abusers?" Teaberry had fairly shouted, resisting the impulse to try to shake him. Revenge was a cyclical crop; planting it only raised more, and it would only feed the foes of the planter. There was no point in pretending you could undo damage by making it worse.

A few halflings had been passing when she said that. They'd looked fairly scandalized, and Teaberry couldn't understand why. It was just sense.

Sorlu had mercifully fallen silent after that. But then something had happened that she didn't quite understand. Although the stench of rot and decay had been ebbing away, thanks to Kittai's breeze, it had abruptly amplified, becoming ten times more vile.

No one else had seemed to perceive the stink getting worse.

She'd started to gag. And cough. And choke, though as often as she tried to show that she was choking, she couldn't. Something wanted her to remain silent. And it seemed a bit too coincidental that this was happening right after she'd contradicted Walesca's outlook.

And then it had stopped. The smell just as suddenly weakened almost to non-existence. Teaberry had had the impression that she hadn't proven sufficiently entertaining.

She'd accompanied a group to the haunted abbey to the east next. And sure enough, there was a boarded-up wall in the Abbey basement. A very odd wall, in Teaberry's view. Something behind it was snarling and throwing it at the wall. But when she tried to peer through the wall behind the boards, nothing was there.

So they'd returned to Town Center...and a little white and red thing had flitted by. Once again, a group had tried to follow it...but it had moved too fast. All she could say for certain was that at last count, it was headed toward the northeast section of town. And there wasn't much there. The temple. Voln. The herbalist's. A hill for snowball fights. None of them seemed like a probable origin for red mist, ghostly pain, or gleeful evil.

She briefly considered going down to the bar to drink an ale. It probably wouldn't help, but the temptation was almost irresistible.

It might banish the memories of lurks and strangulation, of the stench of grave rot and the sound of snarling behind a loosely boarded wall.


(OOC: I saw a message about the stench getting worse and it making the reader sick. I don't know if it was a message only I saw or if everyone else saw it too. I did try to make Teaberry choke, but apparently CHOKE isn't a verb and I couldn't think of what other verbs to use that would be equally effective.)

Haunted Abbey, Haunted Tomb (Letter #1)

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2271
Author: GEHAYI
Date: 06/19/2020 08:20 PM EDT
Subject: Haunted Abbey, Haunted Tomb (Letter #1)
Dear Basil,

You have to swear not to tell Mumma and Papa about this. I'm not joking. You have to. You know how upset they were about me going off to the big city on my own at twenty-one--or "ONLY twenty-one," as Mumma puts it. If you tell them or Pennyroyal, I'll be frog-marched back to our village in less than half of the snap of my fingers. (Especially Penny. You know how bossy our big sister can be.)

And that doesn't suit me, not one bit. Because there's something wrong in Icemule, and I mean to find out what it is.

[A description follows of the appearance of the ghost of Nihala Wineberry, the thing of red mist holding her prisoner, the fetid stench that had so sickened Kobane and that had choked Teaberry, Nuc's transformation into a shambling lurk, the darkness that virtually blinded everyone in Town Center, and the strange white thing with red eyes that was flitting about town..]

...all this would be more than enough to pique my curiosity. But last night was the oddest of all.

We Icemulians  (yes, I'm a citizen now, big brother!) were in Town Center, as we usually are, when the red-eyed white thing sped by toward the west.  Some peered west, but it was already out of sight and we couldn't tell where it had done. As we were discussing whether or not to try to follow it, Dagert--I think that is his name--raced in from the east saying that he had met a wight in the haunted abbey east of town, and the wight had spoken to him. Wights do not speak at the best of times, but this one said something rather odd: "All must perish. All will serve."

Well, we couldn't let that go, so a party of us trooped up to the abbey. I will tell you right now that we didn't meet the talking wight. We saw a lot of wights, but all of them were intent on stunning us with fear and stabbing us with stalagmites exploding from the earth.  Fortunately the elder members of our party made short work of them.

But as we wandered about the abbey's basement, searching for anything out of the ordinary, we stopped at a boarded-up wall . Something was snarling behind the hastily nailed-together boards, but despite the many cracks and gaps in the barrier, we could see nothing. We were debating whether or not the red-and-white thing had come from there when we heard something.

<<Eerie, wet laughter emanated from the nearby shadows, and in the uneven light, a small form was vaguely visible just at the edges of sight.

This gave us pause. We addressed the small creature, asking it who it was, where it was, what it was, and what it wanted. It  did not answer. 

<<The form raced by in the shadows, sprinting without sound.  It moved unnaturally fast. So fast, in fact, that we could not see where it had gone or why. 

We circled about the basement again and again, but we saw nothing. Eventually we returned to the boarded-up wall.

<<Nearby, a gurgling voice like a bog bubble bursting whispered, "They can't keep you away, can they?  You wonder what it is that poisons this place."

And then we heard the unmistakable sound of someone wetting their lips with their tongue.

I can just see you, Basil, looking at me slanchwise as you ask, "Which of you asked what was poisoning the Abbey?" Because of course I asked. It wasn't what I'd wanted to talk about--I was much more interested in finding out who it was and what it wanted--but if it wanted to talk about a poisoned abbey...well, at least it was talking.

There was a long pause--one filled with many questions from our party.

<<At last the voice hissed and gurgled, "Rot from down below."

Which didn't help me. I didn't know if it was talking about literal corruption,  metaphorical corruption, or both. We approached the wall again, this time hoping to hear the voice better.  But as we drew near, the source of the voice shifted.  Once again we all saw something small and misshapen sprint by on unnaturally fast legs that looked ill-suited for movement.

Again we circled about the abbey basement...at least three times, I think. It might have been more than that.  By now we were starting to attract attention both from hunters who wanted to know what we were looking for and from those who had heard of our little expedition and scurried up the mountain to find out what was going on. When we returned to the wall yet again, some of our curious compatriots joined us.

But this time the voice did not speak. Instead, a terrible crack emanated from the shadows.  An instant later, a spitting sound heralded the arrival of a freshly chewed bone.  A bard--Dayzed, I think his name is, but I may have gotten that wrong--tried to loresing the bone, but it didn't tell him anything.

As we were discussing the bone, the voice spoke again.

<<The voice was high-pitched and uncomfortably moist as it returned, speaking as if from a mouth overfull with saliva.  "This is not my place," it slobbered.  "But they are the real threat, for now.  All I want is what was mine by right.  They wish to consume and overwhelm."

We asked it for explanations. I was particularly interested in finding out who "they" were. But we received no answers. A terrible high-pitched giggle emanated from the shadow, and we saw something sprint by with a lopsided, unnatural gait. 

This time we didn't bother to chase after it.  We stayed by the wall.  A few people--I think one of them was Elphieya the empath, but I'm not sure--started calling to the voice to come out where we could see it. I didn't. You remember the tales of horror we used to tell during the summer, Basil? I do. And daring something evil to do something was always dangerous in those stories. It was like an invitation to enter your life. Or your mind. Or your soul.

And then...

<<"Come out, you say?" asked the vile voice.  

I can't say what the others saw, but...

<<...I glimpsed a small, shadowed form with heavy midsection and tiny, bony legs and arms.  Twin crimson pinpoints of light flared where its eyes should be, just an instant before thousands of bats erupted from where it stood in the darkness. They careened by us, screeching and flapping, and when the cloud of flying shapes had dispersed, the shape in the darkness was no more.

We kept asking questions, but it didn't answer. I think we were getting pretty close to calling it a night and going back home we realized that there were faintly audible voices on the other side of the wall. Instantly we fell silent--as much as a group of eight or nine people can, anyway.

<<One of the voices whispered, "Shh.  I think I hear someone."

<<Footsteps retreated away from the other side of the wall.  There were two flashes of sickly green light, and then the sounds on the other side returned to normalcy.

We waited around to see if they would come back but they didn't. I found a tarnished brass plaque behind a vase that was near the boarded-up wall. It read: "To those who rest within my home, may they slumber dreamlessly until called upon in need."  I said something to the effect that it seemed as if someone had been summoned--but by  what, and what did it need? I don't think anyone agreed, though.

We hurried back to town after that, trying to figure out who was talking and where they were going. Most of us stayed in Town Center, telling a shortened version of what had happened. A few went off on their own.

And then a cat walked in and said, very seriously, "Come."

"Where?" I asked. 

(No, I didn't fuss. I expect I'll have my own familiar once I learn nine more wizard spells, and I certainly hope that mine will speak at some point.)

"The portal," said the cat.

"What portal?" I said, feeling like an outstanding dullard.  (For all I knew, the mule statue in Town Center turns into a portal when you lean on its left side.)

Instantly a portal swirled into existence. "That portal," the cat said dryly.

I entered the portal--and the next thing I knew, ten to fifteen other people and I were standing in the northernmost room in the haunted cemetery's mausoleum. (Of course there's a haunted cemetery near town, Basil. Very useful for youngsters in the Order of Voln and squishy magic users like me. That's probably why it hasn't been razed to the ground.) 

An Icemulian named Ukkar was there. He'd been one of those who caught up with us in the Abbey basement. We later learned that he had been led there by glowing footprints, which his familiar spirit almost lost its mind trying to get him to notice.

We looked about the room. There was not much there except for an unmarked tomb of a sturdy halfling warrior. He must have been very rich and well-known for no one to think that he needed a name on his tomb. 

As we looked, Ukkar stumbled, then trembled.  He came to himself quickly, but said that he'd experienced racing visions of fire, screams of torment, and blood. This was not encouraging. We were trying to figure out what this meant--was it a vision of the past or a grim prophecy?--when Ukkar said that he had seen something else:  ten crimson lights flicker out one by one, until only two remain burning, though dimly.

We searched the Grand Chamber. I saw little to look at except the tomb--and when I did, I saw a passage. Elphieya, who must have been doing the same thing, then entered the passage, and I followed.

We wound up in a cemetery chamber. It was cold, dark, and deathly quiet.  The thick earthen walls of this vault-like room muffled any sounds that might be coming from above or below.  What looked to have been a stairwell or door was now boarded up with thick planks of wood and heavily reinforced with sturdy bars of iron.  Intricate runes had been etched in an arc above the barrier.

Many people followed Elphie and me, which was how we learned that the chamber was magically null. No one could cast a spell there, no matter how innocuous it might be. At the same time, none of the local undead would venture there, which was both a relief and somewhat ominous. What did they know that we didn't?

Some of the elder members of our party said that they remembered this chamber and that it was built to contain the Council of Ten. I don't know if you remember those stories--you were never fond of history--but they were a group of wizards who were among the founders of Icemule Trace--the one standing now, not the one that was destroyed. They all seemingly worshipped Luukos and definitely got involved in a cult of Amasalen--though why ten halflings were worshipping a dark-elf-turned-lesser-spirit, I'm sure I don't know.

As I was realizing that this chamber was connected to local history which had begun in the year I was born, Ellerel Barrowfoot appeared. He is an old warlock who is running for mayor. He was agitated to see that the chamber was open again (as it had not been for some time) and said that it was indeed connected to the Council of Ten.

"Thurfel, Gavrail, Elymir, Thulevier, Aslakian, Trianvar, Cheritz, Prangar, Zeban, and Thalaes," I said. It seemed important to name them. So many people were talking about Thurfel and the Council of Ten, as if he were not a member. It seemed better to have things straight right from the beginning.

Ellerel gave me a sharp look. I get those a lot, and I don't know why. Why is it so strange that a young halfling should read history and remember it? Especially a wizard. Wizards are supposed to crave knowledge and wisdom!

Ellerel said that the runes no one could read had been placed there to lock the Council away. What he did not say (and what I found later, because I read) is that the runes were later placed by Thurfel to reinforce the six magical seals on the crypt of Talbot Dabbings to keep the other nine buried alive, imprisoned within the tomb. 

Feeling uneasy in the chamber, and I can't blame him for that, Ellerel suggested we adjourn to Town Center. Once there, he began to tell the story of Thurfel.

I'm afraid Ellerel's  tale did not go over very well.  Two Nalfein elves, Jiarine and Sorlu, were particularly scornful, treating Thurfel as if he was a character in a feast-fire story to frighten children, not a very real person, who, to gain ultimate power, had tormented and killed Icemule's people for close to four years.  

But then, our parents were there. They lived through it.  And described it so well that sometimes I still dream of it. (I'm sure Pennyroyal doesn't--she was always very sensible. But do you?)  Knowing that you're talking to a witness makes a difference.

Ellerel, by the way, pooh-poohed Ukkar's vision of two dim flickering lights emerging from a group of ten, saying that all of the Council was now dead.  I was not convinced that this mattered; nine of the Council were lichs in Thurfel's time. Being dead (or undead) didn't prevent them from using magic. Or, if my book speaks the truth, from possessing people. But I kept silent. I wanted to hear what else he had to say.

As the story wound up, tendrils of crimson smoke curled around the neck of the mule statue, and a sickly wet laugh echoed from the shadows. 

This caused something of a stir. Our nerves were on edge, I think. But Ellerel drew himself up to his full height (which didn't seem very much), brandished his cane,  and shouted something to the effect of, "Stop! Leave this place!"

This did not have the desired effect. 

<<The coils of crimson smoke dripped blood onto the stones underfoot with an arrhythmic patter. A garbled, gurgling voice rasped, "And what if I do not stop, old man?"
 
<<Questing tendrils of shadow streaked toward Ellerel, stopping a hair's breadth away from his face.  They seemed to probe the older halfling as he stood there, cane at the ready, and then a guttural laugh echoed through the town center.

<<A sepulchral laugh pealed over the town center, and it said, "How very rich.  If only they knew.  If only they knew..."  The crimson smoke roiled away, receding into the form of a tiny albino bat with blazing red eyes.  It streaked into the sky, and was gone.  

Ellerel was questioned a great deal after the albino bat flew away, for many of us had noticed that it seemed to know him. He insisted that this was not so.  I said that it seemed to know him, or at least know OF him, since it had hinted that it knew something secret about him. He said that was nonsense and spoke no more to me.

I like the old man, but something is not right.

I must also say that I find his name strange--Barrowfoot. Burrowfoot would make sense; "burrow " is a common part of halfling names. But "barrow"? A barrow is a mound of earth or stones piled over the remains of the dead. "Barrowfoot" suggests someone with one foot in the grave.

A lich--or someone tormented by one--could describe themselves that way.

So many questions, and not nearly enough answers.

I think that I will be reading up on Thurfel and his fellow Council members for some time.  At the very least, I need to figure out which ones are back. Thurfel is dead, burned to ashes by Amasalen, so it probably is not him. But there are still nine possibilities. And while Thurfel was the most powerful then, there is no reason the two survivors could not have learned more in the past twenty-odd years.

And I would like to find out what this strange creature is that turns into a cloud of bats, and whether it is friend or foe.

I won't be able to find any of this out if Papa or Penny haul me back home by my ear. You know that.  And at this point, I think it would kill me not to know. So please, Basil, keep silent.


Your little sister,

Teaberry the Newly Fledged Fireweaver


P.S. Something also happened that night with Walesca Wineberry, Nihala's anti-tallfolk cousin who is also running for the mayorship, but I'll tell you about her in another letter. I'll just say that it's very surprising how many people think that events eighteen to twenty-two years ago are mere fairy tales but feel that we should still be basing political decisions on the actions of some overproud and amazingly foolish Ardenai horse-killers back in the year -14,823. 


*


OOC: The italicized sections are exact quotes of what Teaberry saw and heard, barring the verb tenses being changed from present tense to past. There are a few points where I could not italicize, as the forum is limited to one-word italics or italicizing from the beginning of a paragraph. Italicizing lines in the middle of paragraphs is not possible. It is also impossible to bold an entire paragraph, though I would prefer to use that format. i have a hard time reading paragraphs of italics and I would be able to see the paragraphs better. So a few lines are not formatted in a way to acknowledge that the words are not mine. I ask Auchland's pardon for this, as it's due to the limitations of the formatting and not my own inclination.

I have some dim recollections of the Thurfel saga as my then-character was part of it, as were many of my friends. Much of my memory of that time is blurry, because a staph infection in 2005 not only paralyzed both my legs but put me in an eight-day coma. I've lost a lot of memories, and not only those connected to GSIII. However, to prevent as much OOC-ness as possible, Teaberry has heard stories about that time from her parents (who moved out of Icemule in 5103, when she was either four or nearly so), and she is also reading an unnamed book about the period. Hopefully that will explain anything she knows as well as anything she gets wrong. I personally am relying on the GSWiki and Lady Iscikella's account. Any logs I may have had have been long since lost, as they were four computers and a different email account ago.

I would be happy to insert links into the text, but it seems that the forum formatting requires URLs to begin with "http://" and the GSWiki and the play.net site begin with "https://". Removing the S seems to have no effect. So here are the links:

https://gswiki.play.net/Horse_War

https://gswiki.play.net/Council_of_Ten

https://www.play.net/gs4/news/events/thurfel.asp

The Creature and the Evasive Warlock

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2273
Author: ELPHIA13
Date: 06/19/2020 08:40 PM EDT
Subject: The Creature and the Evasive Warlock
This will be a quick (well as quick as I can make it) OOC summary of the events of a couple of nights ago. There was a lot so I will do my best to make it as succinct as possible.

A wight that was unkillable spoke to Dagnert and said about how all must submit, all would perish. A small group went to search the abbey. The moment we got there, strange things started happening. It was clear something was there. It talked to us about a rot from below and about how we just couldn't stay away. Only ever catching glimpses, we tried to get it to come out and identify itself. A chewed bone was spit out at one point while the creature was toying with us. Dayzed loresang to it but nothing was revealed. Here are a few key comments below including the moment the creature gave us the best look we have seen of it so far.


< Eerie, wet laughter emanates from the nearby shadows, and in the uneven light, a small form is vaguely visible just at the edges of sight. The form races by in the shadows, sprinting without sound. It moves unnaturally fast.

< The voice is high-pitched and uncomfortably moist as it returns, speaking as if from a mouth overfull with saliva. "This is not my place," it slobbers. "But they are the real threat, for now. All I want is what was mine by right. They wish to consume and overwhelm."

< You glimpse a small, shadowed form with heavy midsection and tiny, bony legs and arms. Twin crimson pinpoints of light flare where its eyes should be, just an instant before thousands of bats erupt from where it stands in the darkness. They careen by you, screeching and flapping, and when the cloud of flying shapes has dispersed, the shape in the darkness is no more.

Roelon got a bloody nose again and Elphieya heard a voice talk in her mind, though she's been hesitant to share that openly because of her own personal RP.

That was at the abbey! Then we went back to town. Ukkar's spirit servant started acting strange. It freaked out until he saw glowing footprints and followed them. It led him to the tomb where the nine had been buried alive and left to die. While there, he was struck with a vision "racing visions of fire, screams of torment, and blood." We moved into the tomb and he saw another thing. "10 crimson lights flicker out one by one, until only two remain burning, though dimly." While we stood there, Ellerel showed up. He was anxious to leave the tomb (and frankly so were several of us. Boo to anti-magic places!).

We went back to the square and Ellerel shared a brief history of the Thurfel and the nine. He did a really good job of summarizing it and I am happy to share that portion of the log to anyone who wants it. Just reach out. Otherwise, the wiki is a great way to catch up on that storyline! After his history lesson, Jiarine asked what his point was and he said that things that are done and buried should not be brought back up.

Next Sorlu started being attacked by something unseen. Ellerel raised his cane and a bright light burst through the area. He commanded the darkness to release Sorlu and from what Sorlu said, it did. The next bit was interesting and pretty compelling so I'll just share the play between Ellerel and the being.

< Tendrils of crimson smoke curl around the neck of the mule statue, and a sickly wet laugh echoes from the shadows. The coils of crimson smoke drip blood onto the stones underfoot with a arrhythmic patter. A garbled, gurgling voice rasps, "And what if I do not stop, old man?"

< Questing tendrils of shadow streak toward Ellerel, stopping a hair's breadth away from his face. They seem to probe the older halfling as he stands there, cane at the ready, and then a guttural laugh echoes through the town center.

< A sepulchral laugh peals over the town center, and it says, "How very rich. If only they knew. If only they knew..." The crimson smoke roils away, receding into the form of a tiny albino bat with blazing red eyes. It streaks into the sky, and is gone.

Nothing ominous or suspicious to see here! Okay, so yeah. That whole exchange left Elphie almost certain that Ellerel knows much more than he is willing to share. She pressed him but he swore he didn't know what it was. He didn't stick around much after the creature left. He looked worn out and tired and scared. Several of us tried to press the fact that the creature seemed to react like he knew Ellerel and that Ellerel knew something but he kept denying. We shared what happened in the abbey and he said that dealing with the abbey was of utmost importance. "Righting old wrongs." Elphie asked if he had a chance to research like he had planned to and he said he had read a lot but wouldn't elaborate on anything he found. Overall, he was evasive, uncomfortable, and clearly not sharing all he knew with us.

Shortly after he left Walesca showed up. She was her usual charming self starting by calling us an unruly group. She did do some backpedaling about what she had said about tallfolk saying that she meant their place was NEXT to the truefolk and not on top of them. Teaberry and her had a bit of a discussion. Walesca said she had come from Clovertooth Hall. Because of what had been happening with Nihala's ghost, her and her family were trying to get Nihala's mayoral records. But for some reason, Clovertooth Hall is giving Walesca a bit of a runaround. It was revealed that Nihala's private journal was preserved for posterity though. Elphieya felt a moment of compassion when Walesca looked sincerely upset while talking about Nihala. It was the only time she really seemed sincere in any of her expressed emotions.

So, there you go! It was a very busy night. I'm sure I missed some stuff but I think I hit all the high points. Oh, Elphie drew a picture of the creature they saw and has it and is asking people if they might recognize what it is. If you're curious, you can ask her about it.

Why did it have to be cats?

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2291
Author: ELPHIA13
Date: 06/22/2020 01:03 AM EDT
Subject: Why did it have to be cats?
Elphieya loved cats. Well, to be fair, she loved most animals but cats were some of her favorite. She pet the ball of fluff currently in her lap and smiled to herself. Ava made things better. Most of the times cats made things better. She used to spend hours in Tiger Court with the kitties there and it was a place that had always brought her peace and comfort. It was those truths that she kept reminding herself of while she pet her white kitten. The other night had been a fluke.

There was something with the statue. The crimson smoke liked to come from there, and the bat, and then the birds the other day and the maggot. All of it was connected to the statue somehow. So, when the red-eyed bat had appeared behind the ear of Hee Haw, Elphieya had taken notice. What bothered her was no one else seemed to be reacting. It flew off towards the north and she tried to follow it. She didn't bother trying for long though since following whatever this thing was had not proven very successful in the past. When she got back to the square, it was in chaos.

Rimalon was on fire! He was screaming and rolling on the ground. Kobane hurled streams of water at him but the fire didn't go out. Elphieya was concerned and confused. After some more rolling on the ground, the flames were finally extinguished leaving behind a horrible charred smell. When Elphie asked what had happened, she was told that the cat had done it. What?! She thought perhaps she had heard them wrong, but everyone in the square insisted that Triss had pointed at Rimalon and he had burst into flames. The young Aelotoi glanced at the green-eyed white cat who was calmly licking her paws. Triss? Was it really her that had done it? Was it the creature controlling Triss? The bat had just been in the square. Surely that had not been a coincidence. Rimalon raged against Triss about how he had been trying to warn us that she was evil. He HAD been saying that all along but Elphieya had always dismissed it as him being dramatic. He had a certain flair for the dramatic. But his fear and upset tonight were genuine. Elphieya could feel it swirling in the air around him.

While she was still trying to sort through what she thought was going on, the cat did it again! She pointed, yes pointed, at Rimalon and where he once had stood was a common frog. Could familiars do that? Could they turn against their wizards and then TURN THEM INTO FROGS?! Elphieya was very upset but what bothered her even more was the way everyone around her was reacting. Kobane was laughing and thought it was funny. Dely was dismissing it as not a big deal. Everyone seemed content to take what was happening at face value: that a cat familiar had the ability and inclination to turn against her wizard and was performing magic. Although, the more Elphie thought about that, the more her wings twitched in agitation. Even that should have been concerning to the others! Why had no one else been bothered? And they all said they hadn't seen the bat either. Had she been seeing things? Was her mind slipping away from reality and her fear starting to manifest in hallucinations? No. NO! It wasn't that.

Ava's claws dug into Elphieya's thigh in protest and she realized she was gripping the tiny kitten more tightly than she had meant to. Taking care to keep her touch gentle, she lifted the kitten to her cheek and nuzzled her velvety fur. With an affectionate smooch, she put the awkward bundle of fluff on the floor and smiled as Ava pounced and stalked around the room in her clumsy kitten way. With Ava happily hunting what appeared to be a scrap of cloth, Elphieya let her mind go back to her memories from the previous night.

Rimalon had been a frog. No one was listening about the bat. Elphieya had been getting more and more agitated. Triss wasn't Triss but no one would listen to her! Rimalon turned back into himself and shrieked. He flung insults and curses at the cat claiming that she was evil. Elphieya tried to tell him that it wasn't Triss but he wouldn't listen. The whole time Kobane seemed more and more enamored with the green-eyed cat and was speaking dreamily about how cute she was. She WAS acting very cute, even rolling onto her back and showing her soft underbelly. Elphie shook her head and resisted the urge to give in to the adorableness. It wasn't Triss, she kept reminding herself. Then it happened again, this time Rimalon froze into a stone statue. The other cats started acting oddly too when Triss rubbed up against them. They were meowing and rubbing up against each other and Kobane was caught in a dream-like state of fascination. Dely seemed distracted and not overly concerned with the cat but kept talking about the statue and circling it. His whole focus was on Hee Haw. Rimalon was solid stone. And there was Elphie, caught in the middle of it all trying to make sense of the craziness and feeling like no one was listening to anything she was saying!

She tried everything she could to get Kobane to act like himself again. She even dragged him away from the square. Once they were away from the cat, he seemed to regain his senses. She was trying to explain to him what was going on (though really she wasn't completely sure what was going on) but he seemed confused and had no memory of what had been going on. The moment they were back in the square, he slipped right back into thrall and was back to petting and loving on the kitties, completely oblivious to the rest of the world. Elphieya pleaded with Dely to help her to watch Kobane. Rimalon turned back into Rimalon and continued with his yelling and tirade against the evil cat, completely dismissing any connection to the bat. Elphie's head hurt. It was too much. She wanted to pet the cat. Triss looked so sweet. But no! She wouldn't do it until she was sure the cat was her friend again and not some creature in control. The cat pointed at Rimalon and he ran off in terror. Elphieya didn't know what to do. She couldn't be in two places at once. Dely left, Kobane was talking to cats, Rimalon was...Where was he? She used a spell to locate him and blinked a few times in disbelief. He was fishing?! Grumbling to herself she finally convinced Kobane to come with her.

They went to the pond where Rimalon was fishing. Elphieya asked him to please do something or send Triss away or SOMETHING. He just laughed at her. If what he said could be believed, he didn't have that kind of control over his familiar. Things were definitely strange between the two of them. She tucked that thought away to consider at a later time. Kobane was still not quite himself so she tried the last thing she could think to do and slapped him, hard. The hurt expression on his face broke her heart but she needed him to be thinking clearly. She couldn't do this by herself. Although a bit more reserved, it did seem like he was back to his normal self.

A thought occurred to Elphieya. If she drew a picture of what she had seen in the abbey, maybe someone would recognize what it was. She showed it to Rimalon. He said he had seen nothing like it but something about the picture must have prompted him to be a bit more chatty than normal. Rimalon shared with them the other time that Triss had acted oddly. Actually, he had spoken more about serious things that night than she had ever heard from him before. She took some notes and listened carefully to what he had to say. At his suggestion, she planned to go to Solhaven and seek out someone he called Svala. It turned out that was Magister Raelee. Though he wouldn't say exactly why it would be useful to speak with her, at least it was a lead. Something was better than nothing.

Then Rimalon started asking about the artifacts that had been found. It wasn't until he mentioned it, but he was right. All the trouble had started after those artifacts had been discovered. Had anyone outside of Clovertooth Hall even seen the artifacts? She thought back and seemed to recall that Ellerel had, but he wasn't exactly being forthcoming with information. Was all of this tied to those artifacts? What were they exactly? Was it connected at all? Questions kept popping up in Elphieya's head faster and faster. What about the lights that Ukkar had seen? Were two of the nine still alive? Was the thing they saw in the abbey a tiny halfling lich? Was this about the election or something else? What was the rot under the Abbey? And why of all the animals did it have to choose to turn cats against them?! That one bothered Elphie but mostly just for her own personal reasons.

More questions, more things to consider, and it looked like a trip to another town was in order. Elphieya stepped away for a few minutes and when she came back Kobane was saying that Triss had killed a bat. She blinked in surprise. Was this just a random bat or one of the creature's bats? How or where had Triss killed it? It looked like a common bat. Kobane bought it for 50,000 silvers and promised Rimalon 50,000 more for each bat Triss killed. Well, at least with Triss killing bats and acting more like herself Elphieya could start to relax again. Sort of.

Never Play With Dead Bats!

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2292
Author: ELPHIA13
Date: 06/22/2020 01:25 AM EDT
Subject: Never Play With Dead Bats!
In case you missed it, crimson smoke plus dead bats equals zombie dead bat???? Maybe. Here's what you missed!

Kobane brought the dead bat he got the other night out to play. First, he had just been dropping it and picking it up while invisible so it looked like a dead bat kept appearing and disappearing. Elphieya had been pretty sure it was him, but considering the connection the crimson mist had with bats, it was understandable that his little prank was putting others on edge. When he strolled into the square a bit later and casually pulled out the dead bat, Elphieya had thought that would be the end of it.

He continued to play with it, waving it around and making the limp wings flap unnaturally. The whole thing had turned Elphieya's stomach. It wasn't just her who was disturbed by it though. Delyorik was not happy at all with Kobane's new "toy". He kept telling him to stop and insisting it was not just a bat and that there was something dark there. A true Zelian at heart, Kobane seemed to be enjoying the game. Laeli was upset that the bat was dead and insisted that Kobane bring it back to life. Personally? I think dead bats should stay dead bats. The crimson smoke disagreed. While Kobane kept flapping his bat around, swirls of crimson smoke appeared from the ground. This couldn't be good.

The smoke wrapped around Kobane and reached up towards the bat. He held it up over his head but that didn't stop what happened next.

< The bat suddenly lurches to life, opening milky, dead eyes as its desiccated wings twitch. It lets out an ear-splitting shriek!

Great, now we had a zombie bat? It didn't stick around much longer.

< The bat wrenches free from Kobane's grip and flaps lopsidedly away!

Bye, batty! Here's the general reactions of those gathered as best I could tell. Laeli was happy the bat was alive and that was her only concern. Oh, and that it was flying crooked. Astari was content to agree with Laeli about the bat needing some mending. Kobane was pouty that his bat was gone. Dely was relieved it was gone and frustrated that no one saw it for what it was. Geo was happy his rat could play on the ground and stop scratching him. Kell was mesmerized more by the smoke. Teaberry was uncharacteristically quiet though she said the bat reminded her of what they had seen in the abbey. And Elphie was tired and unsettled by the whole thing and pretty sure that zombie bats were a bad thing.

I left after that. I'm not sure if anything else strange happened. Someone else will have to fill in if I missed anything, but now you know. Don't play with dead bats in IMT TC!

The Bloodless Body

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2303
Author: ELPHIA13
Date: 06/24/2020 06:32 PM EDT
Subject: The Bloodless Body
She still wasn't sleeping well or much at all. Glancing down at the pages of cream vellum spread out on the ale-stained table, it wasn't hard to figure out why. The creature stared up at her from one of them, silvery runes on another, and the one she had just finished lay in the center, the ink still drying in places. Elpheiya closed her eyes but the images remained in her mind, seared there by fear and pain. Feeling emotions and sharing the pain of others was part of being an empath. She had learned early in her training how to block most of it, only ever completely opening herself up while linked to someone to heal them. It was crucial or the sheer weight of being near others would have driven her insane. She knew some empaths who kept themselves constantly open and they never were quite right again. Extreme emotions still got through her defenses though. Emotions like the pain Nihala's spirit had been in. Or the thirst and evil she felt when the creature was near. Those emotions she felt and never truly was able to escape. Their shadows painted her soul.

Elphieya opened her eyes and looked down at the third picture again. It was just as horrific on paper as it had been to see in person. When the creature had flown away from town, she knew the abbey was the best chance of finding it. The death and rot in that place always made her skin feel like it was a bit too tight and made her mind ache, but they had to follow to have a chance to find out more. The ossuary. It seemed to her that the ossuary was very much like the creature's den. Several times now they had found it there. Seeing the bloody, malformed footprints leading to the stairs had sent shivers down her spine and made her wings twitch in agitation. They had searched other places but of course, it was in the ossuary that they had finally found the body. When she had heard the thud in the darkness, it had the distinct sound of flesh hitting ground. She dealt with dead bodies too often to not know that sound. Her first instinct had been to do a quick scan of her group. They were all there and still breathing. A shaky sigh of relief that her friends were not the victim had made her feel a bit guilty. Someone had died. Just because she didn't know them didn't make their death any less meaningful. She had opened her mouth to speak but her voice failed her. Others were stronger, calmer, bolder. They led the search. Roelon, Kobane, Gespry, Kittai, Dely. None of them seemed as scared or upset. Even Kell appeared more calm than Elphie felt. The addition of Sorlu and Lurrah brought another perspective to the search party. Astari was the last to join, and so it had been with those surrounding her that she had stood and stared at the body.

< The halfling's throat was ripped out, the flesh torn by sharp teeth with clearly pronounced canines. The body was nearly mummified from lack of blood. Some of the skin was flayed off, and the halfling was not wearing any clothing.

She closed her eyes again willing the images not to be there when she did, but the memory demanded attention and refused to give her the relief she so desperately sought. The sounds of chattering patrons and scents of ale mixed with warm cooked food faded as a stench of stale air, rotten clothing, and dried bones filled her nostrils. Elphieya's eyes flew open and she coughed violently, dragging in deep gulps of air while her wings fluttered wildly behind her. Several halflings at a nearby table looked over at her with wide eyes and surreptitiously scooted their chairs a bit further away before turning back to their conversation. The scent of death was quickly fading but it left Elphie trembling slightly. Becoming aware of the way her hands gripped the edge of the table, she made a conscious effort to relax. Her cheeks flushed pale rose as it occurred to her just how much of a spectacle she must have just made of herself. Running a hand through her waist-length black hair, she offered a weak smile to one of the halflings that was still keeping a close eye on her.

After the body had disappeared, they had searched some more and ended up at the wall. She hadn't wanted to stay. She longed for the warmth of Bonny and the familiar sights and sounds of Icemule Town Center. The others tried to investigate the wall. They talked of other possible entrances. They cast various spells at the wall. She had to leave and breathe fresh air again. She had run. Calling on her magic, she had gone back to the square and even had taken a few moments to heal those who were seeking help there. But no matter how much she tried to resist, the pull to the abbey was strong and without even fully committing to the choice to return, she heard her voice recite a spell and felt the world shift. Opening her eyes, she was there with them again in front of the wall just as a shimmer passed over the surface. Silvery runes appeared in the wake of the shimmer. No one could read the runes but perhaps Ellerel might be able to. Roelon had suggested that she draw them, and she had done her best to do that, but parts of the runes were faded and hard to make out. Thankfully, they had not tarried much after that point. Another clue. More questions. More drawings to fill her journal.

She didn't know if drawing what she had seen would help. The drawing of the creature had been seen by several who had not had a chance to witness it and she hoped that maybe it would lead to answers. She wasn't sure how drawing the corpse could help, but some of the others had suggested she should do it and since the body had disappeared in a wisp of crimson smoke, her drawing was the only physical evidence left. Her heart hurt when she thought of the things she used to draw. Memories, pictures of happiness, laughter, joy. Now her journal held images fit for nightmares. A tear rolled down her cheek and splashed onto the center page before she could catch it. She rubbed at the spot, but the vellum quickly wicked up the tear leaving behind a stain that normally would have bothered Elphieya. Somehow, on this picture of what was left of a body, a life, it felt right that it was anointed with her tears. Looking down at the pictures one last time, she quickly gathered up the drawings and tucked them into her satchel. Her jade-green leather journal and art supplies were collected next and neatly stowed away.

Of Blood and Bats

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2304
Author: CIRCE2
Date: 06/24/2020 07:42 PM EDT
Subject: Of Blood and Bats
She sits in front of the fire, letting the warmth rush over her chasing away the chill of the night. The scent of peppermint lingers in the air as she massages a salve onto her temples. A steaming cup of tea sits untouched next to her on the rug.

The headaches come a bit more often now, but it is to be expected with all the voices flitting about inside her head. At times it is hard to discern if it is really the voice of another or just her own thoughts racing around her skull. The one is unmistakable, she has heard it before, granted it has been years but how can you forget such beautiful tones.

The new one floated into her head again this evening as they stumbled upon a drained body. There has always been talk of it wanting what was taken, but for the life of her she didn’t know what was taken. She had a thought it could be Yfa, the handmaiden of Amasalen, coming back for the rune-covered barrier in the cemetery. A thought came into her mind assuring her it was not Yfa, but something much more powerful. The voice did admit to her that the blood calls it, which makes her more certain this will not be the last bit if blood spilled.

She winces as a bit of the salve seeps into the knife wound on her hand, “It must have been well sated after draining the halfling”, she murmured aloud. She was hoping if some blood hit the ground it may send it into a frenzy. The wince turns to a scowl as she recalls trying to inform the others of what had transpired, only to hear her voice lost to the wind.

With a relieved sigh, as the salve has begun to ease the ache in her head, she tiredly heads toward her bed.

Player of Astari

The Weary Farmer (Creature Origin Revealed)

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2308
Author: ELPHIA13
Date: 06/25/2020 10:50 AM EDT
Subject: The Weary Farmer (Creature Origin Revealed)
Elphieya rubbed her eyes in an attempt to clear her vision. Not enough sleep and too many thoughts were taking their toll on her mind and her body. Her mind had been so unfocused recently. She hadn't even noticed the farmer walk into the square. It wasn't until she was about to leave and practically tripped over him that she even saw him there. He had looked so tired and not just physically weary. His clothing was simple and well used, shoes worn down until they were barely nubs. His shoulders slumped and he moved with slow deliberate movements. She had been about to introduce herself to him and apologize again for her rudeness when he shocked her by asking for her by name. Elphieya was not used to the idea that her name would be known to a stranger from outside of town. She had curtsied and answered him though just as she would anyone else. Whatever had brought him to town with her name on his lips, she had been ready to listen and find out.

Dely was immediately protective. As she thought back, he had seemed on edge throughout most of the conversation. She wondered if that was because he had been worried about her or if there was something else going on in the background. Her talk with Astari earlier in the day had confirmed her suspicions that the voice spoke more often than people were sharing. How many times was there another there speaking in the minds of one or two or more? Unseen but always stirring. She had done her best to soothe Dely and help him to be calm enough to listen to the farmer. Worrying about what else might be speaking and what they were saying wasn't going to help her at that moment. Turning her focus to the farmer, she listened as he said he had heard about the creature who had been drinking blood and that he thought he might know what or WHO it was. Another bolt of shock coursed through her. She scrambled with shaking fingers to fish the vellum with the picture she had drawn of the creature out of her satchel. After showing it to the farmer, his confession that the creature might have at one time been his brother was enough to send Elphieya's mind spinning once more. It was a good thing there were others there to remember to ask important things like the farmer's name: Arbur Tinwhistle.

So many questions tore through Elphieya's mind, but she had pushed them down as best she could and asked Arbur to share why he believed the creature to be his brother. His story was simple and told to the best of his knowledge. Unfortunately, Arbur didn't have much detail on the specifics but he seemed open and honest about the things he could share. She breathed slowly and did her best to recollect all that he had told them.

Arbur lived far west of town on a farm out past the forests. He had lived there with his brother Arnabas and each would take turns going into town for supplies and trade. The trip was safe enough and was one they had made plenty of times before. Roughly 17 years past, Arnabas had headed to Icemule. When he hadn't returned in the usual amount of time, Arbur had gone looking for him. After finding no trace of Arnabas near home, Arbur had gone on to Icemule but once again came up empty. With a weary heart, he had gone home. But Arnabas didn't stay missing.

Sometime later, he had shown up at the farm and tapped on Arbur's bedroom window: his second-story bedroom window. The thing that had been Arnabas was surrounded by a swirling mist the color of fresh blood. Arbur said that it spoke to him and said it was his brother and also spoke of a "they" that "couldn't hold him". The creature was angry at whoever they were but Arbur didn't know anything more along those lines. After spending a couple of nights waiting at the window and crawling on the roof of the barn, the creature eventually bored of Arbur and left. Over a day and a half since the last time he had left his home, Arbur ventured out to find all of his rolton and mules slaughtered. The last time Arbur saw the creature who had been his brother, its stomach was swollen in the words of the farmer like "a fat tick that'd had its fill". From all he had shared, it sounded to Elphieya that the creature was indeed the halfling who had been known at Arnabas Tinwhistle.

They had a name. It occurred to Elphieya that it might be useful to have something that belonged to Arnabas, so she had asked the farmer if he had brought anything of his brother's with him. Although he hadn't, he promised her that he would return with something very soon. She wasn't entirely sure what they would do with the item, but something told her it could help. Arbur sat and answered as many questions as he could from the small group gathered around him. Just as another snowstorm started, he took his leave to go find a room at the Honeybeer. Though his movements were still stooped and labored from a hard life of physical work, some of the weariness had left him as if the simple act of sharing his story and his secret had released him from some of the burden and torment. Elphieya's heart was heavy to think of Arnabas Tinwhistle and his story but she knew that whoever he had been at one point, the creature was no longer him. It was a rotted, twisted, perverted version of what he had once been. Arbur understood the need to stop the creature and spoke calmly about it being long past time that it be stopped. Maybe it was the passing of 17 years that allowed him to see things that way. Maybe it was the realization that the creature was killing more than roltons and mules. Whatever it was, she felt confident that he would help them do what it took to stop the creature.

Elphieya took out her journal and wrote two words at the top of a new page. A name. An answer to one of the questions. But in its place flooded a dozen more questions. Below the name she jotted down some of the questions that pounded in her mind pushing at her sanity.

Arnabas Tinwhistle
What happened to Arnabas to turn him into the creature he is now?
Who is the "they" he spoke of?
Where had he been for 17 years?
What happened to make him show up now?
How does this connect with the abbey, or does it connect?
Is the crimson mist something that turned and changed Arnabas or something he controls?
What is his "due"?
Are there more out there like him who were changed into whatever it is that he is now?
What is the creature after?
What is the darkness that took Nihala after?
Are they the same thing or is the crimson mist the "they" that the creature speaks of?
Is any of this related to the election or is the timing just coincidence?
Does any of this have to do with the artifacts that were found?
Was the creature released from behind the wall in the abbey?
What do the runes say?
Are they similar to the runes in the tomb of the nine?
Is all of this a targeted attack on Icemule? If so, by whom and for what purpose?

Searing pain in her mind caused Elphieya to drop her quill. Her body shook from exhaustion. She knew she needed to find a way to get some rest or she wouldn't be strong enough to fight her own demons along with the ones who threatened her home. Abandoning her list of questions, she put her things back in her satchel and moved to crawl into bed. Her lips moved in a silent prayer though she couldn't even say who she was praying to. The last thing that crossed her mind before falling into a fitful sleep was the image of a younger version of Arbur and another halfling who looked like him sitting near a simple hearth laughing in the firelight. All along the edges of the room, a crimson mist crept towards the unsuspecting pair, silent and deadly.

Rot From Below And Open Invite

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2318
Author: ELPHIA13
Date: 06/27/2020 07:05 AM EDT
Subject: Rot From Below And Open Invite
Rot from below. Rot from below.

< "The rot ssssstartsss far below."

Elphieya woke with a start. Sweat plastered her dark hair to her forehead in a riotous mess. The satin shift she wore was also soaked through. She trembled and looked around the dark room. She didn't see or sense anyone, but it was almost as if she could still hear another voice whispering to her. How many had said that the rot came from below? Names and faces floated in the sprite's mind as she worked to slow her heartbeat back to normal.

She rose out of bed on shaking legs and quickly lit the candle on the bedside table. Another sweep of the room confirmed that she was alone, but her mind was racing and sleep would not soon come. Her twitching wings scattered shadows on the wall as she moved to a small table where she had left her journal and writing supplies.

Rot from below.

Her mind churned wildly trying desperately to piece together all that she had seen and heard over the past few weeks. The meeting at White Haven had helped her think and sort through things. Overall, it was a productive night. She hadn't planned to end it staring what she believed to be Luukos in the eyes and seeing two of her friends drop dead at her feet. She shivered in the cool night air. Outside of the covers, her sweat-soaked hair and clothes clung to her skin and chilled her until she sat shaking with her teeth chattering. She still couldn't go to bed though. Not yet. She had to get her thoughts on paper before should could even attempt to rest. It was almost like another voice was urging her on. In a near-feverish state, she dipped her quill in ink and started to pen a notice.

< Dear friends,

< I have been thinking through everything that has happened and was discussed tonight. One thing has been echoed from the start, "the rot from below". Thurfel is gone. Many have attested to this and I trust their judgment, but that doesn't mean that rot was not left behind. I have traveled below Icemule to his island on the way to the fortress of Reim as I know many of you have also. There is more down there. Thurfel's cellar among other things. Something is there. The rot from below. Teaberry or Kell or someone said something about that the other night but now I am even more convinced. We have to go below Icemule to Thurfel's Keep and his cellar.

< At 9pm elven on this coming Restday, the 28th day of Lumnea, I will be leaving from town center to go search below Icemule and see if I can find the source of this rot. While I am willing to go alone, I am inviting any who are interested in coming along or helping to meet me by Bonny (the bonfire). I don't know what we will find, if anything, but I am hoping some of you will join me.

< Elphieya (Fee)

She scanned the paper and frowned at her less than perfect script. Her hands still shook from cold and exhaustion so her second copy of the letter didn't turn out much neater than the first. It didn't matter. What mattered was getting the word out. She grabbed her toqua and slung it over her shoulders before shoving her feet into her boots. She wasn't dressed for Icemule weather (or really dressed much at all) but that didn't matter. A sense of urgency drove her out into the early morning air. The first copy she attached to the barrel in town center using the nail that had held the notice about the meeting at White Haven. It was past now so she was fairly certain Astari wouldn't mind her replacing it with her own. The square was thankfully abandoned at this hour, but Elphieya didn't tarry before moving on to the Nightowl Pub. After checking with the proprietor who had given her a very strange look, she had managed to gain permission to post her notice in the lounge where the guards often sat drinking while on break. Satisfied that she had chosen two places that had the best chance to get the word out, Elphie quickly retraced her steps to the room she had rented for the night. Locking the door behind her, she removed her toqua and boots before scrambling back into bed. She sat bundled in the blanket hearing phantom whispers of "rot from below" echoing in her mind as she vacantly stared at the sparsely furnished room. Sunlight crept through the cracks in the shutters, first pale and soft, and then glaringly bright as morning marched in. But sleep did not come for Elphieya.

Discovery

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2323
Author: GEHAYI
Date: 06/29/2020 08:35 PM EDT
Subject: Discovery
A carefully written note has been fastened and bound to the herb barrel in Icemule's Town Center. It reads:

To those who investigated Thurfel's Cellar on Restday, Lumnea 28, 5120:

I THINK WE FOUND SOMETHING.

There is a gaping hole in the floor of Thurfel's Cellar. And the hole leads to a room that isn't on any map that I can find.

Here's the room with the gaping hole:

The amber globe that is inset into the wall here has burnt out, or its magic has failed.  In either case, this part of the cellar is considerably darker than the rest, and perhaps it's an illusion, but it seems colder as well.  You also see a gaping hole.

And the area in the gaping hole is a vault, which looks like this:

The chamber is filled with obsidian rubble, pieces strewn in every direction.  The walls are scarred and cracked, most of the stone blackened from what must have been a fire of tremendous magnitude.  The unpleasant scent of burnt flesh lingers within the room.  You also see a gaping hole.

The vault is one of those magic-null rooms, so I can't cast any spells at the obsidian. No idea what any more physically-oriented professions might be able to do. I also haven't found anything via a search, but that doesn't mean that something isn't there.

First the wall in the Abbey (which has changed from a loosely constructed barrier to a solid wall with runes on it). Second, the re-opening of the Cemetery Chamber beyond Talbot Dabbings' tomb. Now this vault. It might be worth investigating.

Teaberry

Rot from below - development

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2369
Author: LORDROELET
Date: 07/10/2020 02:38 AM EDT
Subject: Rot from below - development
A quick OOC note.

Tonight, a group of us, Nemt, Lurrah, Lord Sorlu, Numismatist Acerbe, Dayzed, Kellecezza, Merrymaker Gespry, Elphieya and Roelon, investigated a strange glow coming from the Abbey.

After a short search, the wall in the ossuary in the Abbey crumbled, revealing a tunnel past it, that led under the abbey and to a portal and a ring of dead bodies . The way was infested by undead. an athletic dark-eyed incubus, horrific magna vereri and a supple Ivasian inciter. Kellecezza was defeated during the attack and was taken to TC for help.

We were later joined by Kittai, Delyorik and Soliere as we tried to find a way past the portal.

A voice, presumably Ivas, told us the way was closed to us and to the blood drinker (creature bothering Icemule lately and accused us of serving him). And not to interfere with her operations of harvesting.

The voice said he (the creature) will not have that which hers snad only one has ever stood against her power, and she is a shattered husk now.

Sorlu and Lurrah decided a sacrifice was needed to the mistress to possibly open the portal. In the end Elphieya was sacrificed. The portal did not open, but another voice was heard. Arnabas, the creature.

It did not think the portal could stop him if the wall could not.

When asked what he wanted from where the portal led, all he said was "Mustn't tell... they'll only interfere." before running off.

A Rotten Sacrifice

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2370
Author: ELPHIA13
Date: 07/10/2020 04:35 AM EDT
Subject: A Rotten Sacrifice
The pain in her mind screamed to be acknowledged but it barely registered to the lone figure as she wandered the abbey aimlessly. The runes had fallen, the wall crumbled, and the den exposed. So much chaos and a stench that would not soon come out of her clothes.

A sharp corner of broken brick sliced into the soft soles of her left foot. She glanced down and wondered vaguely when she had removed her boots or why. Still in a haze, a half-trail of bloody footprints followed her on her stroll through the abbey. "Such pretty blood," Lurrah's voice echoed in her memory.

They had gone past the wall and after fighting through a small army of undead worshipers, they had ended up at Hope's End. An involuntary shudder rippled through Elphieya as her mind painted a replica of the room.

< A horrible sarcous substance clings to the stone walls in places, weeping yellowish fluid that smells of copper and sickness. Whatever it is, the material is raw and pinkish like fresh-scraped flesh. Strings of it drip from the ceiling like a horrendous parody of hanging vines. It culminates in a tumorous mass along the far wall, taking the form of a quivering pinkish portal.

The memory of the room, the smell, and the odd way the portal quivered left her doubled over and dry heaving. It crossed her mind that it was probably a good thing she hadn't eaten today. Wiping away a tear from her eye and dragging her hand roughly down her cheek to scrub at her mouth, she willed her stomach to stop doing flips. She scrunched her eyes shut and stumbled to a piece of broken wall near the outside of the abbey. Her breathing came in gulps, sucking in freezing air and leaving snowflakes to melt on her lips.

She let her mind drift and relive the past hour. The voice of the shadow form that had met them in that place filled her mind and even the memory of the alluring voice brought the hairs on the back of her neck to attention. A harvest. She had spoken of a harvest and a ritual. Something she wouldn't allow to be stopped. Was it Ivas? The signs seemed to point that way. Although Elphieya knew when it came to the Arkati her knowledge was sorely lacking, Sorlu's reaction and the shadow's pointed attention to him left little doubt in Elphie's mind. Ivas had accused those present with serving the blood drinker. Poking at her wall, killing her servants. Serving his purposes. This thought did not rest well with Elphieya. She did not wish to serve Arnabas, and after a short visit to the Den and glimpses into the shadowy depths of pits of dead females, she was pretty sure she didn't want to serve Ivas either.

The abbess. Only one had resisted Ivas and survived, though it left her shattered. Could the abbess be helped? How had she resisted? Why was she the only one who had? These thoughts tapped incessantly in Elphieya's mind each clamoring for her focus. The unrelenting pain that had magnified from her experiences tonight wouldn't let her think too long on any of the questions. Away from that room, away from the icy blue eyes, away from the quivering portal, Elphieya began to question how she had ended up kneeling in front of it, willingly. Her vision blurred as she stared into the distance pulled back once more into her memories.

Sorlu had said that a sacrifice was needed. Though Lurrah had offered, a whispered conversation later and she was standing back up to smooth her clothes and resume her position beside her husband. Everything inside of Elphieya had balked at the idea of feeding blood to another portal, spilling blood without knowing why or even if it was needed. She remembered the near panic that had slithered around her heart and held on tightly through most of the evening. There had to be another way! Blood was not the answer, sacrifice pointless and wasted. But the longer she stood there and argued her point with Sorlu, the more she felt herself slipping away into the haze. Icy blue eyes gazed calmly at her. For Icemule. Has to be done. Female, must be female. Could she live with herself if she didn't offer up her life to possibly save the town? All the words washed over and through her while the darkness inside her leaped at the opportunity to gain ground.

It was only a moment. Distracted by conflicting thoughts, her nostrils burning from the scent of sickness, her sensitive ears ringing still from the recent battle, and her vision narrowing. Then in a flash, it all stopped. The panic melted away as did her control. She calmly slipped her runestaff securely into her weapon sling and turned to face the portal. Somewhere in the back of her mind the part of Elphieya that knew this was not right raged and screamed but only a muffled uncomfortable feeling gave a slight tremble to her wings. She kneeled. Dely tried to stop her. Poor Dely. A tinge of emotion sparked and then sputtered into nothingness. He couldn't stop this. She couldn't stop this. Her blood moved sluggishly through her veins already prepared to slicken the ground and seeing no further reason to travel to her extremities. Her fingers grew cold and all the talking and discussion pooled into a droning noise that didn't pierce her senses. They were looking at her though. Soliere whispered to her that it was pointless. Dely threatened and fought for her. Sorlu calmly repeated himself and Lurrah urged her to continue. None of it mattered. She would kneel. She would die. The brand between her shoulder blades sent searing pain streaking through her and she rubbed it in response.

At least he made it quick. One failed attempt but the second time rang true. She barely felt it. A burning pain lashed through her and then the nothingness that had taken control of her mind spread to her lifeless body. She stared down at her blood pooling beneath her. Sorlu prayed, did his ritual. Nothing.

Elphieya blinked a few times and tried to focus her memory to remember the rest but her mind refused. She vaguely recalled Ivas mocking the sacrifice and sneering at the idea of dead flesh. A flicker of Arnabas being there tried to take hold in her memory but she couldn't make it stay. She closed her eyes, but a tap on her arm drove her to open them once more.

Everything froze and then resumed moving in a blur of activity. She was in town center and the elf in front of her was bleeding. Moving with automatic and practiced grace, she healed him while she fought off the panic that clawed at her. She didn't know how she had gotten to town or when. With a wince, she massaged her temples and focused on breathing through the pain. She was slipping. Losing time again. A memory of the way she had lost herself in the Den and ended up on her knees as a sacrifice left her weak at the knees and forced her to sink to the bench or risk fainting. Bonny crackled merrily nearby but for Elphieya, she knew that tonight she had lost herself, if only for a while, and she worried that the battle she felt raging inside her even now was one that she was destined to lose.

A Rotten Perspective

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2372
Author: DABEARS
Date: 07/10/2020 09:48 PM EDT
Subject: A Rotten Perspective
WARNING
The following recounting is just as likely to be a lie as it is truth. Proceed at your own risk.


A pallid, unsettling glow had begun to shroud the shape of the abbey known as The Temple of Hope. Even the snow, which threatened to blind those caught within it's heavy downfall, could not block out that scene high up and to the east. When a party had gathered to venture forth and explore, he joined them, alongside his wife...often a victim to his curiosity.

He had stood near the rear of the band of heroes, frosty eyes seemingly casual, yet inquisitively scanning the area as they continued to poke and prod at a wall that had begun to crumble deep within the Abbey. The exact method yet unknown, but the barrier had been broken..and beyond it he had followed, towards the sound of chanting up ahead in the tunnel beyond.

They had pressed forward, and moments later came face-to-face with dozens, perhaps scores, of figures. The world exploding into motion. Instinctive reflexes kicked in as the Nalfein stepped back into the shadows, axe in hand, as those that stood near him lashed out. Or perhaps it was the influence of his wife, who constantly pulsed with the aura of V'tullian rage, that moved him to strike...but strike he did, leaping from the shadows, his axe coming down in an overhead chop that split the head of his opponent in half. The victory of the kill caused his heart to throb with such pleasure...but that sensation evaporated a breath later, as he looked down upon his fallen "foe".

---

You leap from hiding to attack!
You swing a dwarven slaughtering axe at a supple Ivasian inciter!
Incredible blast shatters head into a red spray.
A supple Ivasian inciter begins to mouth a desperate prayer, but death stifles him.
A supple Ivasian inciter loses its focused look.
Roundtime: 6 sec.

---

"No. Nooo! What have I done?!", he screamed internally, as he recognized this creature for what it was. A follower, willingly or not, of Ivas. A thousand lies passed through his head as he tried to convince himself it was not his fault, but none could find purchase. Guilt, a sensation he rarely knew in this life, began to flood his body...a curse of its own, and one that rots as surely as any wasting disease.

Hand trembling, he nearly lost the grip on the now bloodied axe as he knees began to buckle. But in that desperate moment, just as he was preparing to plead for forgiveness, an image grew in his mind. To plead for forgiveness was surely not the way. Insult had been given to Ivas, intentional or not. What was taken from Her would need to be replaced.

Battling back the guilt, he clenched his jaw as he watched the others continue to massacre these agents of Ivas that simply defended their home. His anger tempered by the sight of his wife, her weapons held at her side...fighting back her own instincts of bloodlust. As the battle ended, he nearly trembled seeing the carnage.

Remaining outwardly calm, though his mind spiraled with chaotic half-plots of vengeance, he followed the group down the tunnel until they had reached, what at the moment, appeared to be a dead end...

---

[Tunnel, Hope's End - ]
A horrible sarcous substance clings to the stone walls in places, weeping yellowish fluid that smells of copper and sickness. Whatever it is, the material is raw and pinkish like fresh-scraped flesh. Strings of it drip from the ceiling like a horrendous parody of hanging vines. It culminates in a tumorous mass along the far wall, taking the form of a quivering pinkish portal.
Obvious exits: north

---

As he watched those gathered poke and prod at the portal, trying to coax it to open, a voice purred out from the shadows..

--A husky, overwhelmingly feminine voice shivers through the air. The sound of it is gentle to the ear and teasingly low, raising the hairs on the back of your neck. "I'm afraid that I cannot allow you to disturb our operations," it says.--

--The voice continues, moving about the edges of the room. A sickly green illumination, dim as a flickering candleflame, illuminates a curvaceous form of shadows, barely tangible. "The way is shut. You will come no further," says the woman of shadows.--

Others began to press the voice to name itself, but he knew immediately... it was the presence of his Lady, his teacher.

--Swirls of yellowish viridian mist trail behind the shadowy figure, stating, "This? Merely an image, a projection into your comically conservative minds. So very straitlaced, all of you."--

The insult stung to his core, but he accepted the blow...one that was forgotten a moment later...

--The figure proceeds toward you, trailing a slender finger underneath your chin.--

And as these infidels, who had come here to Her and caused such destruction, demanded an explanation, he listened as his teacher provided to them their answer.

--"Why, harvesting, of course," says the figure. Through its depths flicker images of pits full of corpses, uniformly female.--
--The figure drips shreds of greenish smoke as it treads silently back toward the portal.--
--The voice sounds almost amused as she asks, "How long have you been serving the drinker of blood, you invaders?"--
--"Tell him this: he will not have that which is mine," the female voice concludes firmly. "Only one has ever stood against my power, and she is a shattered husk now. I do not fear the machinations of a hungering shadow."--

The Nalfein found himself swelling with pride as Ivas stood her ground, reverberating such confidence. Confidence She rightly deserved to demonstrate. As She vanished, and confusion hung in the air, it became clear that now was the time to strike. These people had lusted for blood, and he would provide them a bit more. But he would not steal this life before them, no...she, and a she it must be, must offer her life up on her own. Perhaps with a few hushed, whispered words of encouragement..

Devious eyes turned towards Elphieya, the leader of this band. It was simple to convince those gathered that a sacrifice would be needed. His wife had offered herself as a sacrifice, thinking that his intentions were to defy Ivas and attempt to open the portal. No, he had fooled them all. Lurrah was his, and would not be given over to Ivas...no, another soul would be offered up as recompense for his error. One that Ivas could bend and twist and break in whatever way delighted Her.

It was simple to purr a few words to Elphieya, promises of saving the town. Of being a hero. Promises of defeating the darkness. Forcing into her mind, through his honeyed words, the amount of shame she would feel if she did not bow before the portal, and offer herself, to save her family. Of course, Delyorik, who's blasted loyalty to those he cared about presented a great obstacle. But that, as all others inconveniences, would be overcome in time. Delyorik was a good man, and how Sorlu hated "good" men.

Maintaining the cool expression of sympathy for what "needed to be done", he struggled to keep the grin from his eyes as he watched her sink to her knees, and on her own, nodded for the sacrifice to be made. But as Delyorik again protested, claiming, perhaps truthfully depending on perspective, that this sacrifice wasn't needed, the Nalfein had already moved into position...and offered up a silent prayer to Ivas, here at Her portal, to take this one, seduced into the false hope of providing salvation to the town, as Her own.

---

You think to yourself, "Ivas, take her soul as your own. I offer her to you, of her own choice."

Speaking quietly to you, Elphieya says, "I am not stopping you."

Delyorik slowly empties his lungs.

Speaking quietly to Delyorik, Elphieya says, "Dely, it may be for nothing, but you do not decide for me. Just like I can't decide things for you."

You leap from hiding to attack!

You swing a dwarven slaughtering axe at Elphieya!
Mighty swing separates head from shoulders.

* Elphieya drops dead at your feet!

You glance appraisingly at a quivering pinkish portal.

Speaking to Elphieya, Lurrah says, "Your blood is so beautiful."

Roelon deeply asks, "....This is what ye wanted?"

Roelon sighs.

Speaking to Elphieya, Lurrah assures, "You have done a good thing."

(Sorlu steps over the body of Elphieya as he moves towards the portal.)

You reach out and touch a quivering pinkish portal.

The pinkish portal appears to be closed.

Speaking nonchalantly to Lurrah, you say, "Didn't seem to work."

---

The Nalfein's smug moment of personal accomplishment, of hopeful recompense, was snatched away, as the enemy appeared and offered it's shallow mockery before fleeing..

--The shadows suddenly shift, leaping as if struck.--
--With a soft, warning rattle, a gurgling male voice says, "Do you think your lady so hungry for flesh that she will consume it dead?"--
--Something crosses the shadows of the entry. Its form is horribly misshapen, on limbs too thin to support its bloated girth, but it moves quickly.--
--The voice of Arnabas says, "Blood is always the answer."--
--The voice of Arnabas asks, "That wall could not protect this place. They think that this... thing will hold me back?"--
--You hear rapid footsteps retreating away. Down the tunnel, a gurgling voice rambles to itself, "Mustn't tell... they'll only interfere."--

Speaking to you, Lurrah says, "He might be jealous."

You grin at Lurrah.

Speaking to you, Lurrah says, "The work of Ivas after all."

Lurrah leans softly against you.

---

Some claimed the sacrifice a failure, for the portal remained closed. Some even voiced concerns that the sacrifice had actually aided Arnabas. The debate continued, as he hoped, as he encouraged...for within it he could hide his own personal truths. He had been touched by the most Divine. The portal had remained closed, as Ivas desired. "Heroes" had watched as Elphieya allowed herself to be seduced with false hope into offering herself at the portal of Ivas. What Ivas chose to do with that soul, to accept or to discard, was Her prerogative. Arnabas be damned, as Ivas had spoken, She had no worries over that starving shadow. He had won the night.

Taking their exit, the Nalfein and his wife returned to town, and to the warmth of their room. Before drifting away to dance recklessly through the realms of both Ronan and Sheru, he considered the evening, and his overwhelming victory. There was only success, and steps that would lead to success. All other perspectives were forbidden. This was the game he played, and never did he lose. The game he felt the world had forced upon him...and truly, it was he that was the victim.

Anger surged, only to blend with that previous pleasure. Resentments tangling with joy, spiraling until they became as interwoven as wisps of smoke. For those crimes against him, he would see the world rot.

OOC Summary Mule Monday 7/27

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2387
Author: ELPHIEA13
Date: 07/28/2020 12:24 AM EDT
Subject: OOC Summary Mule Monday 7/27
I missed some of it so feel free to jump in if I missed anything pertinent.

Talliver and Ellerel were talking about the issues going on. The main plan is to try to get info from the abbess. At Lurrah's suggestion, we went to speak to Mirtag. He said he couldn't do it but that a Leaftoe many years ago had healed a Sheruvian once. So, we went to talk to Ma Leaftoe. She said her grandpa wrote about all Icemule herbs in a small green book with a white fern on it but that she had sold it to the pawnshop. So we went to the pawnshop and Kobane exchanged a necklace for the book. (also the pawnshop owner sneezed all over Jia and in general, you might want to disinfect stuff you get from there in the future). We took the book back to Ma Leaftoe who said it would be a few days for her to translate the cipher that her grandpa used.

Ellerel is extra fidgety and that's about that.

OOC Summary Mule Monday 8/3

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2392
Author: ELPHIA13
Date: 08/11/2020 03:53 AM EDT
Subject: OOC Summary Mule Monday 8/3
I figured since I was doing OOC summaries I'd toss up a quick one from last week. Kadya showed up. She is a diviner, seer or whatever you want to call it. She said she had returned to town at the request of Ellerel.

You see Madame Kadya.
She appears to be a Paradis Halfling.
She is diminutive. She appears to be very old. She has dark crimson eyes and pallid skin. She has bobbed, grey-shot raven black hair. She has a narrow face, a sharp nose and a sagging skin.
She is in good shape.
She is holding a golden brown chocolate tart in her right hand.
She is wearing a luxuriant red velvet robe with stygian black shoulder pads, a twisted black ora ring, and a pair of soft black slippers.

She said some stuff. I'll do my best to just post the seer stuff she said here and you can interpret it how you will.

Kadya raspily says, "I see blood and bats and bodies." Kadya's eyes suddenly grow cloudy, and she continues to intone, "Two and two, faces untrue." Kadya stares off into the long distance. "She will lead the way, but the path is a false one. What was long ago corrupted will be redeemed." Kadya abruptly turns to the north, jabbing a crooked finger at nothing in particular. Kadya says, "Beyond the long snow, they have waited since the earliest days. The Berserker sleeps, and his blood becomes a river." Kadya shudders, and the strange clouding seems to fade away from her eyes.

Kadya gravely says, "The future can always be changed. Otherwise, farseers would have little value."

Then she talked some about the creature. She said he is not a vampire. He spills blood for sport and as tribute and...Kadya says, "Undoubtedly, it knows how to make more undead creatures. It certainly wants everyone to think it to be some mythical creature with plain weaknesses. Oh, yes. He thinks he's very smart."

Then she said this:

Kadya darkly says, "Someone should tell him that it will be a long march. A gulf of white as vast as despair itself. Into lands where the only light is ribbons in the sky."

Kadya says, "I can see it on the eddies of time. A great warrior fell, a bloodthirsty conqueror. They brought him there to rest, but he lies uneasy in the darkness. he blood-drinker will go there. Or perhaps he has already been. The eddies of time are unclear."

Kadya says, "Once vanquished, he fell into a forever sleep, and was brought to the land of his kind." Kadya suddenly gives a dismissive wave of her hand. "But that's another day's problem. Today's is your false blood-drinker."

We asked her is Arbur (the creature's brother) was alive. She said yes but Arnabas is gone. His body is worn like a cloak and like a cloak it must be well-tailored, that's probably why... She kind of left that train of thought unfinished and said she had perhaps said too much.

The last bit she spoke of is this.

Kadya distantly says, "I see a being of wealth and influence and worldly power. Trapped between those he loved and those he served." Kadya knowingly says, "I see him wander on the winds, hating, hungering to have flesh. But all of the other bodies burned down like candles made of poor wax. This one burns more slowly, but burn, it does. He will need to find another, and when that day comes...There will be death and blood on the streets."

She said she knew nothing of the tablet and that she first heard about the creature about 18 years past. There you go. Keep in mind that a lot of what she said was interspersed with conversation but I think I grabbed most of her visions and prophecies.

News from Ma Leaftoe

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2390
Author: GS4-AUCHAND
Date: 08/10/2020 06:41 PM EDT
Subject: News from Ma Leaftoe
In an exclusive interview with Ma Leaftoe today, the venerable herbalist revealed that she has leveraged her family's long-held knowledge of flora to brew up a restorative draught meant to repair the mind of one of Icemule Trace's most mysterious figures: the forlorn abbess who has wandered the streets of town for decades! Further, once briefed on what the word "venerable" meant, Ma Leaftoe revealed that arthritis has not slowed her ability to throw heavy objects at intrepid reporters.

The seasoned business owner would like to relay that she will be available after business hours tonight to administer the draught.

Senior Scribe Yonder Fitzbrink
The Coldweather Observer

Auchand

OOC Summary Mule Monday 8/10

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2391
Author: ELPHIA13
Date: 08/11/2020 03:53 AM EDT
Subject: OOC Summary Mule Monday 8/10
There was a LOT tonight so this is going to be the bare minimum.

Ma Leaftoe made an elixir that could restore the abbess. She drank it and got her lucidity and memories back. The story of how the abbey became how it currently is today goes like this. A guy was hurt, the sisters took him in. He had a tablet with him that supposedly could turn back the power of death. The tablet was put in the ossuary for safekeeping. The man got better from his wound but then fell to a wasting illness with boils and uckiness which spread to the sisters. The sisters got scared and one of them in particular led a group to the ossuary where she read the tablet. She turned into a vereri and then killed the rest of them turning them also. The abbess left them to their fate and the guilt has been eating her alive. After telling her story, the abbess became focused on saving her sisters (the vereri). The Abbey is currently closed but it seems she was successful. Oh, and her name is Mellian.

You see Mellian the Forlorn Abbess.
She appears to be a Human.
She is of an average height. She appears to be past her prime. She has world-weary bright blue eyes and dark skin. She has wild, black hair heavily streaked with white. She has a gaunt face and sunken cheeks. She looks like she has not bathed in many a year.
She is in good shape.
She is wearing a slightly tattered white robe stitched with a pattern of faded blue roses, a stained pale yellow sash, a ring of tarnished iron keys, and a pair of worn-down slippers.

At the tail end of her story, the Ivasian chick showed up and now we have a name for her too: Niatha.

You see Niatha the Scarlet Temptress.
She appears to be a Human.
She is short and pert. She appears to be mature. She has heavy-lidded green eyes and flawless ivory skin. She has waist-length, flowing copper red hair that swirls about her as if of its own volition. She has a delicate nose and an ageless face. Her form is voluptuous.
She is in good shape.
She is wearing a large sack, a clinging scarlet silk shift traced with crushed ruby wisps of stylized smoke, a spiraling eahnor bracelet fashioned into intertwining humanoid forms, a pair of red crystal slippers with spiked heels, and some full leather.

She says the abbey belongs to her now. The two of them fought. Pretty sure the abbess ultimately came out on top but that is still a point of contention. Connected to that, the Den of Rot is open now! Though the abbey is closed, if you go to the arch and then go to the glowing slash, it will take you to the Den. Roelon has been working on mapping the area so if it is mapped, you can thank him.

And the last bit to cover is Ellerel. He is not Ellerel after all. He is a lich named Prangar who was one of the nine who made up the council of 10 with Thurfel. He took over the body of Ellerel and his main focus seems to be self-preservation. He says if anyone is looking for him after they have decided what to do with him, he will be at home. He also told us there is one other lich who escaped and still is around, Zeban. Zeban is currently inhabiting what used to be Arnabas or the creature. Make of that what you will for now.

That is you VERY rough summary of what you missed tonight! Feel free to find people in game who were there to try to get a more full story if you'd like.

Lurrah, Lord Sorlu, Lady Erienne, Kledalf, Teaberry, Grand Lord Whirlin, Jiarine, Roelon, Lady Kellecezza, Astari, Leifa, Darcena, Conquerer of Reim Dayzed and of course Elphieya.

Enter the Den of Rot!

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2394
Author: GS4-AUCHAND
Date: 08/11/2020 04:13 PM EDT
Subject: Enter the Den of Rot!
The Den of Rot is now open in all instances!

After an evening of treachery and renewed hopes, the forlorn abbess Mellian attempted to breach into the Temple of Hope. She instead managed to force open a portal into the Den of Rot, an Ivasian hunting ground featuring creatures from levels 66 to 72. The Den has an even mix of the undead and the living. It's also the site of Elanthia's best Eyes Wide Shut-themed parties.

Adventurers leveling through the area will find themselves pitted against Ivasian inciters, pestilent visions, magna vereri, and enough shirtless incubi to fill a charity calendar.

Ivasian inciters: 66, living.

Dark-eyed incubi: 68, demonic.

Pestilent visions: 70, noncorporeal undead.

Magna vereri: 72, corporeal undead.

Come play, my lords and ladies!

Auchand

From the Desk of Talliver Dabbings

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2402
Author: GS4-AUCHAND
Date: 08/17/2020 02:58 AM EDT
Subject: From the Desk of Talliver Dabbings
People of Icemule Trace,

This previous week has been a difficult one. Like many of you, I was rocked by the revelation that Ellerel Barrowfoot, whose advice I had come to treasure, was revealed to be a lich of the Council of Ten. Master Barrowfoot, who insists on using his current name, was taken peacefully into custody this evening and has been brought to a secure location. Barrowfoot continues to insist that he holds Icemule Trace no ill will, and appears to be in full cooperation with our inquiry.

I hereby request that the Town Council convene this week to discuss his fate.

On a more positive note, I wish to convey my great thanks to the adventurers who aided Abbess Mellian, formerly of the Temple of Hope, and her recovered sisters. This evening, a small force of Town Guard members joined her on a foray into the ruins of the abbey. I'm pleased to report that their mission was successful, and that the abbey's perimeter has been secured. I have established a small fund to assist the abbess in the restoration of the property.

Please be advised that the unstable rift resulting from Mellian's initial attempt to breach into the abbey is still a danger. We will be working with Mellian and her sisters to seal it and better contain the evil there.

Talliver Dabbings
Mayor of Icemule Trace

Auchand

The Abbey's Doors Reopen

Category: Cities, Towns, and Outposts
Topic: Icemule Trace
Message #: 2409
Author: GS4-AUCHAND
Date: 08/30/2020 08:18 PM EDT
Subject: The Abbey's Doors Reopen
People of Icemule Trace,

I bring to you glad tidings and heartfelt thanks. Were it not for you, I would linger still in a state between sanity and madness. My sisters would still be among the vile undead. Our home, once a beacon of goodness and hope, would still lie in ruins and shadow.

But today, none of these things are true. Brave defenders of Icemule Trace have cast back the darkness that lay upon me, my sisters, and the abbey that was once our home. Countless adventurers have journeyed into the Den of Rot, culling the ranks of the malign and corrupt. You are, one and all, our heroes.

Since the restoration of my sisters and our return to these grounds, we have worked tirelessly to restore that which was broken. I am pleased to say that the Sisters of Hope welcome you all to our revitalized home, the Abbey of the Vigilant Heart. All are welcome here, from the downtrodden to the most high. Visit with us and be at peace.

The Abbess Mellian