The Crimson Moon

This was a storyline in the Platinum instance, between 2011 and 2014.

Chapter 1: When Shadows Bleed

Introduction

A prophecy has become known to the world, called the Dark Requiem. It dictates that five of the Lornon Arkati have chosen to come together to usurp Liabo's rule over the world. Led by Sheru, they are Luukos, V'tull, Mularos and Ivas. As the Lornon Arkati become more active, their adherents have likewise become bolder in practicing their faith. These cultists seek to bring the prophecy of the Dark Requiem into reality by recruiting converts, invading towns and cities, kidnapping people and enacting sacrifices at shrines erected around the world. Overseeing it all is the moon, stained crimson each night since the troubles began.

The Lornonites' activities are opposed by many different factions. Among them are Liaboites of many affiliations, joined by neutral parties seeking to restore the balance of the world as well as people seeking to protect the towns and people they care for. The opposition is aided by a gnomish seer and a human rumored to be a member of the Warders, a militant and often-reviled sect of the Order of Voln believed long dead.

Important People and Terms

Information partly supplied by Naionna

NPCs

Yuratlya - first appeared 11/2010 in WL, formerly blind gnomish seer, claims not to work for any side in the conflict
Hanos - first appeared 03/2011 in SH, rumored to be a Warder
Sedrygin - first appeared 03/2011 in SH, cleric of Koar, name unknown in game
Aldrik - priest of Lorminstra, name unknown in game
Pyali - priest of Lorminstra, name unknown in game
Erim - NPC from previous storyline in 2008, father of Piperel
Piperel - also called Pip, NPC from previous storyline in 2008, daughter of Erim, known as the "Herald," deceased
Ydos - first appeared 05/2011 in TI, liaison for Scribners, name unknown in game
Ningrint - first appeared 05/2011 in TI, Scribner, keeper of ancient artifacts and knowledge, lich, claims Ronanite sympathies, name unknown in game
Carhn - Champion of V'Tull
Naja - Champion of Luukos
Azorlok - Avatar of Sheru
Isium - Author of the Dark Requiem thousands of years ago
Arcathis - Luukosian cultist
Shezzaka - Sheruvian cultist, name unknown in game
Abran - Luukosian cultist, name unknown in game
Aibri - Luukosian cultist, name unknown in game
Deirhge - Luukosian cultist, name unknown in game

Player Characters

Delcian - human priest of Ronan, named a Chosen of Ronan, torture victim
Taeghan - Squire Legionnaire of Ta'Vaalor and paladin of Ronan, named a Chosen of Ronan, husband of Myriamie
Myriamie - Nalfein with no known religious affiliation, wife of Taeghan, sacrificial victim
Hubris - giantman knight of Ronan, named a Chosen of Ronan
Nilandia - sylvan mentalist and telepath, named a Chosen of Lumnis and the Keeper of Knowledge
Myke - giantman paladin of Voln, claims affiliation with the Warders, strongly urged by Hanos to become a leader of those opposing the Lornonites
Jaired - Tehir, Lord Marshal of the Militia, close friend of Pip, currently missing
Isanae - sylvan empath, sacrificial victim
Caden - Dhe'nar sorcerer, ally of the Lornonites, released Azorlok from his imprisonment

Terms

Dark Requiem - prophecy written by Isium, zealot of Sheru, which contains a chain of events that results in the rule of Lornon, currently being translated
Warders - militant sect of the Order of Voln, said by some to be heretical, believes in killing the people who use or create undead as well as releasing undead
Elanthian Inquisitor - in-game newspaper, periodically publishes issues with information on the current events

An Invitation for a Moonlit Dance

06/28/2011 03:35 PM CDT

Strange winds blow this evening and all who have interest in the Rising of Lornon storyline are encouraged to be around this evening around 10:30 pm Eastern. This is a rough starting time so please keep that in mind if you accept our invitation to come dance with us in the blood-hued moonlight!

Another Sacrifice

06/29/2011 10:00 PM CDT

Last night after the crimson moon became active, Myriamie was patrolling the Vipershroud when she was kidnapped and taken to a Luukosian altar. As the rest of the people took up a search for her, Taeghan sensed the torture inflicted on her through his bond to her. Nilandia also attempted to make contact with her, only to be met by another entity forcibly and painfully silencing her efforts.

In time, Hanos located Myriamie's body and gave directions to finding the hidden temple in the area. He saw to her while the others fanned out and searched the temple. Two of the cultists who had participated in the torture were located. Myke attempted to kill them, but was instead killed by Naja. Taeghan would later kill the cultists.

The people in the temple soon left, only to be confronted by Naja leading various snakes. It was a quick skirmish, and everyone was brought back to the Keep. There, Hanos bristled at the barrage of questions and comments aimed at him, but still revealed some information he had.

- The gnomish seer, known OOCly as Yuratlya, has been poisoned with a rare snake venom. She is not dead, but is not doing very well. - Hanos searched for sign of the Scribners, who may provide crucial information in locating the Dark Requiem, a scripture believed by some to be the words of Sheru which contains the prophecy that may be coming to pass in the crimson moon. - Hanos set up a meeting this Friday night at midnight outside Ta'Illistim that may be a lead on the Scribners.

After what Hanos considered continued badgering, he left for the Voln monastery, possibly not having shared all he knows.

As always, copies of the report are being sent to various cities, the captain of the Sapphire Guard, Lord Urmeil, the city of Nydds, and any of her other regular contacts.

The Meeting

07/02/2011 10:08 AM CDT

Last night a group met with a "young" half-elf named Ydgo, who opened a portal that lead them to a meeting with a Scribner (the name escapes me at the moment) he agreed to give us the Dark Requiem if we give him something of value in return. He requires the lid of a destroyed urn. The group searched through out the catacombs and found nothing, after a long evening of searching Delcian grew tired and was starting to fall asleep while on his feet.

While in a sleepy haze Delcian began to see images that lead the group to a shrine where they found a shard of the urn and dust that had recently been disturbed by an orc, after searching the area it was decided that a bard was needed.

The bard sang to the shard and saw the event that lead to it's destruction, he also sang to the dust which revealed that an orc had recently been there and did in fact have the lid the group was looking for. The group gave chase but the trail went cold as they reached impassable terrain.

The group decided it was best to wait till morning when the trail might be easier to see in the light.

Recovering the First Shard

07/03/2011 12:43 PM CDT

To remind of recent events, the Liaboites are searching for a text called the Dark Requiem. They were led to a group known as the Scribners, and on Friday night they were finally able to meet with one. The Scribner, notable as being dead but also holding Ronanite proclivities, demanded the lid of a destroyed urn in exchange for receiving the text. Clues were uncovered to its location, but the trail became impassable from difficult terrain, halting progress.

The afternoon of July 2, the treasure hunter Khlat met with people at Hearthstone and revealed that he knew of a mountain climber that might help with getting around the obstacles.

Later that night, adventurers met with the mountain climber, who provided giant spiders with huts on their backs to help the climb. Exiting, they broke through a barrier of brambles before moving on. In an outcropping, a shard of what is assumed to be the urn lid was recovered. Jackals and serpents also attacked the group after the shard was located. With nothing else found, the group returned to the Landing.

During the climb, however, there was significant strife among those present. Jesphian attacked Jaired, only to be killed later during the chaos of the skirmish with the jackals and serpents. Shilarra also was noted to be quite waspish along the way.

Not long after the shard was recovered, the gnomish seer (known OOCly as Yuratlya though her name has not been given in game so far as I know) appeared in the park. She had been disturbed by the great distress she sensed from other people that night and ventured out of her bed, despite still suffering from the snake venom she had been poisoned with.

As people arrived, Yuratlya began to address some concerning their weaknesses that may be hindering them. She advised the people to take advantage of the resources they had at their disposal. She noted that the people had a Keeper though they did not use her. When pressed for the identity of this Keeper, she indicated Nilandia, whom she had earlier referred to as a Keeper of Knowledge, and said that she had only recently discovered her need after walking the path for months.

Yuratlya also told those gathered to trust those around them and work together, for they had until then continued to work as individuals rather than as members of a group. She told them to listen to their instincts, and not to be afraid to make a decision of the course to take, for no perfect path lay before them. She then departed with Fjalar, who sensed that she was in danger and acted to protect her.

Crimson Whispers

07/08/2011 12:26 AM CDT

Blood red eyes peer at you from the gnome as he glances your way. You could swear he bears fangs. A faint whisper reaches your ears, the voice deep and almost gutteral as it says, "You can't avoid your fate.. you will be broken soon enough. Talking to the Priest will not help, it is an excersise in futility." A shudder of cold washes over your skin. The voice continues, insistent and unwavering, "Look at how he mocks you. He does not understand, he is wrapped up in his own goals. A priest? A priest would sympathize, attempt to comfort you, not snap fingers at you as if you were a child. You can find comfort here with us.. give in." The voice comes again, this time low and with a lulling affect as it whispers, "Yes...." "He does not understand, none of them do. There is no help. Not even your precious Brinret has stayed for you. You are alone. We will comfort you. We will not bark at you when you fear, we will embrace your fears. Together.. " comes the voice. "See, he mocks you. Yet this is your friend. Consider it, Shilarra.. you know we are right.." and then it fades.

The Ritual

06/30/2011 10:51 AM CDT

Player Log

You are slugged over the head hard and your surroundings blur as a bag is put over your eyes.

You think to yourself, "Taeghan!"

You sense that Taeghan is thinking about you and you feel the warmth of his affection.

You successfully command your resistant muscles to remove a silvery blue rolaren longsword from in your dupioni silk cloak.

Oddly, your surroundings grow blurry. You feel a tickle on the back of your neck, and without any warning, you suddenly feel extremely dizzy. Stars pass across your vision, which is shrouded in shadow. Then, a light appears ahead of you. Your vision clears, and you find that you are nowhere near where you were just moments ago.

[The Scales of Truth, Altar]
Centered on a semi-circular stone dais is an ebon marble altar, serpents crafted from gold seemingly slithering up the sides. Heat fills the room from a dozen stone braziers that are placed about, flames rising from their centers. Crafted into the back wall is a huge mosaic, its colorful tiles gleaming in the fire's glow. You also see a pile of offerings and a shadowed corridor.
Obvious exits: none

Aibri eyes you for a moment, circling you slowly.

Aibri says, "You will do nicely on that altar there.."

Aibri says, "But..tsk tsk with the longsword."

Myriamie tries to twitch her arm to swing her sword.

Aibri waves a hand at you and you feel better for a moment.

You growl ferociously!

Aibri says, "I'd rather have you coherent all things be told."

Aibri ties you down quickly to the altar and grins.

Aibri says, "Angry thing aren't you."

You ask, "What do you want with me?"

Aibri says, "Oh.."

Aibri chuckles.

Aibri asks, "What I want?"

Aibri says, "I want you to feel."

Aibri nods to you.

Aibri asks, "I want you to feel, and I want your bonded..yes the shield of Ronan is it?"

Aibri grins slowly.

You say, "...feel? I feel plenty. You can let me walk out now. Mission complete."

Aibri says, "I want him to feel very moment."

You nod slowly.

Aibri chuckles.

Aibri says, "Not quite so fast.."

Aibri mockingly says, "M'lady."

Aibri makes a contemptuous half-bow.

You frown at Aibri.

Aibri makes a snapping motion and several cultists begin to file in.

You say, "If you want someone to feel, it will be you. Feeling Taeghan's sword when he finds me."

Aibri says, "You see, your bond.. with the Shield.. is unique."

Aibri says, "And it provides special..pleasure to my Lord."

Aibri says, "To know that what you feel? He will feel too."

Aibri grins at you.

Aibri says, "And so here we are.."

Aibri says, "Really you should feel blessed."

(Myriamie's frown deepens.)

Aibri nods to you.

You uncertainly ask, "The bond?"

Aibri says, "Oh yes.. see you thought you'd get away with so much from that bond."

Aibri chuckles.

Aibri asks, "You thought we didn't know?"

Aibri touches your cheek with a cold, taloned finger.

Aibri grins slowly.

You furrow up your face and wince.

Aibri says, "Oh we knew.."

You say, "We did get away with it. It kept me safe from you."

Aibri says, "And though it perplexed us initially..sneaky sneaky girl that you are."

Aibri says, "It then made us aware of how very vulnerable you two are at this time."

Aibri chuckles.

A wavering blur suddenly appears, coming together into the cohesive form of Abran.

Abran hisses.

You glance at Abran.

>look abr
You see Abran the Luukosian Cultist.
He appears to be a Human.
He is shorter than average and appears to be wizened with age. He has sparkling pale grey eyes and olive skin. He has chin length, shiny grey-brown hair streaked with silver. He has a square-jawed face and a crooked nose.
He is in good shape.
He is wearing a gold-encased emerald medallion, some braided green leather sandals, some layered copper-hued linen robes edged with malachite scales around the deep cowl, and a polished golden-hued emerald ring.

>look ai
You see Aibri the Luukosian Priest.
He appears to be a Human.
He is average height and appears to be burdened with age. He has hooded ale-brown eyes and ashen skin. He has a bald head. He has a haggard face, a beak-like nose and a small goatee.
He is in good shape.
He is wearing a gold-encased emerald medallion, some cowled black damask robes edged with tiny copper scales about the hem, a polished golden-hued emerald ring, and some copper sinew sandals.

Aibri says, "Yes well.. you aren't safe from me now are you child."

Aibri chuckles.

You furrow your brow, probably adding a wrinkle or two in the process.

Abran slowly paces to his left, moving in a circle around you.

A wavering blur suddenly appears, coming together in the cohesive form of Deirhge.

Abran raspily says, "Now what do we have here..."

You say, "My mind is safe. Taeghan shields me as well."

Aibri flickers a forked tongue for a moment, and then nods.

Deirhge gazes in wonder at her surroundings.

Aibri says, "Oh its not your mind I want."

Aibri grins at you.

(Myriamie glances around as the room fills up.)

Abran raspily says, "Yesss, thisss will be good."

Aibri says, "But you'll see soon enough."

Abran nods slowly.

You think to yourself, "Taeghan... where are you?"

Abran bows to Aibri.

Deirhge shrilly says, "You have herss."

Deirhge cackles!

Abran raspily says, "Yess.. thiss will be pleassing."

Aibri grins.

Aibri says, "Yes and we will soon have him as well thorugh their..bond."

Aibri asks, "So are you ready dear?"

Aibri peers quizzically at you.

Abran laughs softly, trying to hide his amusement.

You furrow your brow, probably adding a wrinkle or two in the process.

Aibri says, "You are about to experience something wonderful."

You say, "...bring your best."

Aibri chuckles.

Speaking to Abran, Aibri says, "I like her. I really do."

Myriamie steels herself, uncertain what she's preparing for.

Speaking raspily to you, Abran says, "Oh we sshall. We sshall."

Abran nods slowly at Aibri.

Aibri calls to his brethren, directing them to encircle the sacrificial stone slab where the victim lies.

Deirhge shrilly says, "She is perfect."

Abran raspily says, "I like when they fight."

You squirm.

Abran snorts a derisive laugh, sneering in mockery.

You say, "You'll get a fight."

Abran glares at you.

You narrow your eyes.

Abran raspily says, "I hope sso."

Abran grins coldly, his eyes reflecting no emotion.

Aibri says, "Abran, do bring the smoking herbs so she is somewhat drugged for this. It helps if she doesn't squirm..so."

Aibri says, "She just needs to inhale a bit."

Abran nods slowly.

Aibri watches over Myriamie with an almost protective gaze, a slight smile curving his thin lips.

(Myriamie stares back at Aibri defiantly.)

Abran raspily says, "I ssshall obtain them."

Aibri grins, smoothing back Myriamie's hair.

You flinch.

Aibri winks.

As Abran softly chants a phrase, his form wavers slightly. Within seconds, he has completely disappeared.

Deirhge ponders.

You evenly say, "They will find me. Whatever you do to me, they'll find me. Alive or dead."

Aibri says, "Do tighten the bonds please."

You say, "And you will pay."

Aibri nods at Deirhge.

Aibri says, "Oh I'm sure they will find you."

Aibri chuckles.

Aibri says, "I don't mean to keep you from them forever."

Aibri winks.

A wavering blur suddenly appears, coming together into the cohesive form of Abran.

Aibri says, "Only long enough so that he.. your bonded that is.. feels it."

Aibri winks at you.

Aibri says, "Just long enough so that he understands."

You frown.

Aibri grins slowly.

Aibri says, "Ah here we are."

>think Taeghan?
You concentrate on projecting your thoughts but something seems to be blocking them.
You sense that Taeghan is thinking about you and you feel the warmth of his affection.

Aibri says, "Just wave them near her face."

Deirhge moves towards Myriamie and tightens the bonds holding her.

You glance away.

Deirhge shrilly says, "You will not leave here..."

You say, "I may not."

You say, "But your miserable life will be worth even less than it is after you do whatever you plan."

Abran walks over slowly towards Myriamie, a slow smile spreading across his lips. He lifts up a smoking basket of herbs and places it just below her nose as he says, "Breathe in deep.".

As the herbs are waved near your face, you cannot help but inhale for survival purposes and feel the effects almost instantly. Your vision blurs and your limbs become heavy, numbed. Everything seems to be in a haze suddenly.

Abran laughs softly, trying to hide his amusement.

Aibri says, "Yes...that's it."

Abran raspily says, "Yess... take it in."

Aibri gives an odd giggle, and his eyes flash with yellow flecks of amber.

You slowly say, "You'll be paid... well..."

Aibri absently says, "Yes.. yes.. just breath."

You hold your breath.

Abran raspily says, "It isss payment enough to ssserve him."

Aibri pinches Myriamie's nose and forces a gasp.

Deirhge shrilly says, "Paid? We will be paid for our service to him."

Abran nods at Aibri.

Abran agrees with Deirhge.

Aibri says, "Oh yes, the prophecy will come and then.."

Aibri says, "Well then you will all truly see."

You think to yourself, "Nilandia... do I hear your voice? Nil..."

Aibri says, "Lets get on with this."

Deirhge shrilly says, "Do it."

As Aibri calls to his brethren, they encircle your form while you lay upon the sacrificial stone slab, barely conscious. Try as you may, you are unable to break free of your drugged state of mind.

Abran grins coldly, his eyes reflecting no emotion.

You think to yourself, "...Taeghan..."

Abran says, "Yesss," as his eyes widen with delight.

Aibri gazes down into your face as he withdraws a pinch of viridian powder from his pouch, dusting your form with the fragrant granules. Your mind slips further into a drugged state as you inhale of the powder, and the sound of the cultists chanting remains dulled in your ears.

You think to yourself, "...Nilandia..."

Abran chants a short but reverent orison, asking for death and eternal servitude to come to his enemies.

Deirhge sways back and forth, her eyes gleaming with a feverish tint.

The shadows flicker with candlelight as the variety of candles lit about the chamber gutter in and out from the occasional breath of air. Smoke lingers along the walls, slithering against the darkened surface much like tiny snakes.

Myriamie tries to force her limbs to move, to drive the fog from her mind.

Aibri quietly murmurs, "Brethren, we gather this night in praise and worship of our Lord Luukos, the Great Deceiver, the Taker of Souls. We raise our voices in prayer to Him with each breath we are given this eve."

Abran chants a short but reverent orison, asking for death and eternal servitude to come to his enemies.

Abran bursts out in triumphant laughter!

An eerie whistle echoes outside as the wind pierces the entrance to the chamber, echoing against the walls and threatening to gutter the candles. Soft hissing sounds resound throughout the chamber as hot wax encounters moisture from the chilled wind.

Abran raises his hands in worship.

You shiver.

Your senses are heavily dulled from the effects of the drugs introduced into your system by the cultists. Your skin prickles nonetheless, chilled by the events happening around you as much as from the stirring of the wind in the ritual chamber. The sound of your heart beating in your chest is thunderous, and though you valiantly try, your eyelids will not raise for your command.

Deirhge cackles!

The cultists continue to chant in their symphony of prayer, the sounds mixing together until they sound much like a chorus of hissing serpents as their prayers rise throughout the chamber, resonating from its walls with an almost violent sensation.

Abran continues to chant, his eyes glazing over as his speech becomes more raspy with each word.

You think to yourself, "The locket... Taeghan"

You sense that Taeghan is thinking about you and you feel the warmth of his affection.

Deirhge joins her voice in worship, the words mixing with the chorus.

The hissing fills your mind, creating chaos and fear where nothing had been before due to the heavily drugged state of your body. Your heart races from anxiety, your nerves twitch and your inner voice screams for release from this torment as the chanting continues relentlessly. Suddenly, the voice of the Priest rises above the chanting and you feel your back arching of its own accord, offering your chest to the sacrifice!

Deirhge shrilly says, "Yess."

The Priest calls out to one of his brethren, beckoning him above the chaotic chanting of the cultists. The cultist moves forward, producing a slender black snake from within his robes to hand to the Priest. The Priest nods, letting the reptile curl over his fingertips as if walking a coin from knuckle to knuckle. He then murmurs beneath his breath and drops the snake to Myriamie's chest!

You think to yourself, "TAEGHAN!"

Aibri loudly shouts, "Lord of Lies, we offer this soul to You! We give of this being all that he is to Your command! We pray that You find Yourself pleased in this offering and take of it as You will!"

Aibri gazes heavenward.

Abran chants a short but reverent orison, asking for death and eternal servitude to come to his enemies.

You sense that Taeghan is thinking about you and you feel the warmth of his affection.

Abran raspily says, "Yesss... take it Masster, take it."

Deirhge shrilly says, "Take her, for your glory, use her as you must."

Abran hisses.

The cultists are joined by the Priest now as the chanting reaches a feverish pitch, echoing off of the walls of the small chamber with such force that it seems their very words may gutter the candles and render the area in complete darkness! Wind howls outside of the room, shaking the doorway and screaming as if in representation of the helpless victim laying beneath the snake.

Abran chants a short but reverent orison, asking for death and eternal servitude to come to his enemies.

Abran sways back and forth.

You think to yourself, "...the locket... Taeghan... off"

Deirhge moves in rhythm with the chanting, her body swaying from side to side.

>look dei
You see Deirhge the Luukosian Cultist.
She appears to be a Human.
She is average height and appears to be youthful. She has dark-rimmed vivid blue eyes and olive skin. She has long, curly bright red hair hanging in a tangled mass. She has an angular face, an aquiline nose and sunken cheeks.
She is in good shape.
She is wearing a gold-encased emerald medallion, some layered copper-hued linen robes edged with malachite scales around the deep cowl, a polished golden-hued emerald ring, and some braided green leather sandals.
Your fear triples into a state of complete chaos as you violently fight back with all of the mental power you possess against the invasion of your body by the serpent. Unfortunately, the drugs have rendered you helpless and you can only lie there in your arched state, experiencing every inch of terror as the snake slithers into your open mouth and down your throat. Its scaly form makes its way past your tightened throat muscles and into your chest as pain washes over your body until it feels almost unbearable!

Aibri cackles deep in his throat, his voice rising in chilling laughter.

Abran snorts a derisive laugh, sneering in mockery.

The Priest's eyes blacken and appear as liquid pools of smoke as he withdraws the ritual dagger and raises it high above the victim. The chanting abruptly stops and a deafening silence overcomes the chamber as the Priest brings down the dagger into the victim!

A driving pain shoots through your chest as the Priest brings his dagger down into your chest, carving through the flesh and into the cavity where the snake has stopped its journey. As you gurgle on your own blood, the light begins to fade and your senses are reduced to the rapidly fading sensations of tugging within your chest as the Priest rips into it and retrieves the serpent, covered in your thick blood but still alive. You vaguely recall the image of the serpent being handed carefully to a nearby cultist who licks at the scaly invader briefly, then takes it away from the ritual. Then there is darkness and nothing else.

Even in your state, you feel Taeghan's thoughts turn to concern as he realizes you are dead. You may even detect a note of alarm.

Deirhge cackles!

Abran snaps out of his trance and glares at the body before him, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

Hanos screams!

The snake is taken from the temple as Myriamie collapses upon the slab, lifeless.

You fearfully ask, "...what did you do to me?"

Hanos exclaims, "What is this MADNESS!"

Deirhge shrilly says, "Yes.."

Aibri glances at Hanos.

Aibri exclaims, "Go!"

Abran raspily says, "It isss done."

Aibri says, "Go my brethren! This deed is done."

Speaking amusedly to you, Aibri says, "And he felt all of it."

As Abran softly chants a phrase, his form wavers slightly. Within seconds, he has completely disappeared.

Deirhge shrilly says, "For him.. for his glory."

Aibri just went through a shadowed corridor.

Hanos reaches back and throws his fist in the air, energy crackling from his arm.

Hanos yells, "Leave this place!"

Hanos strides over to stand before Deirhge.

You softly say, "But he's strong..."

Deirhge reaches up and touches her emerald medallion, thumbing its surface briefly as a deep, sibilant hiss fills the air. The image of a slitted yellow eye appears before her, shimmering as several serpents of varied size rush forth from its depths and open up a pathway within. She steps into it and disappears.

Hanos growls ferociously!

Speaking quietly to Hanos, you ask, "...help me?"

Hanos glances at you.

Hanos says, "I will help you.."

Hanos strides over to stand before you.

You urgently ask, "Is he safe? Taeghan? Did you see him?"

Speaking sadly to you, Hanos says, "I did not..."

Hanos says, "You have been given to them."

Hanos exclaims, "I will claim you back!"

You say, "Please... please help."

Hanos kneels down.

Hanos touches you.

Hanos closes his eyes for a moment.

Hanos prays over Myriamie's body as the sense of evil begins to fade from the area.

Speaking to himself, Hanos says, "Blessed be, that the tyranny and evil be removed from this place. The passing of evil will be taken."

Hanos slowly empties his lungs.

Speaking weakly to you, Hanos says, "It took much of me to clear this place...I will return you as quickly as I can."

You quietly say, "...they drugged me. I don't really understand what happened."

Hanos puts Myriamie's hands over her chest in a pious pose.

Nilandia's group just came through a shadowed corridor.

Taken

08/08/2011 08:15 AM CDT

Player Log

Delcian was taken from Helga's Tavern in the evening, after being tortured for a time he was found stunned outside of the North Gate. As others found him and tried to heal him he died while reaching for Taeghan.

For now Delcian is recovering from his wounds both physically and mentally as he tries to come to gripes with his deformity.

Mithogras [General]: "If you don't know where you are m'lord, where were you before?"

Delcian shudders.

Vaein [General]: "Delcian, can you hear anything near you?"

Pain streaks through your mind as you attempt to think, and the effort is almost crippling.

Isanae [General]: "Do you smell anything?"

Taeghan [General]: "Or smell anything?"

You loudly say, "Gah, damnit."

You [General]: "It hurts to think....It's cold here."

[Darkness]
There is nothing but ink-dark blackness. There air is ice cold and a feeling of malice dominates the very air. There is no way out and no indication of a way in. No walls, no floor, no ceiling - just ink-black darkness.
Obvious exits: none

You think to yourself, "Ronan do not abandon me, protect me from this...aid me."

The sound of scraping metal echoes in your ears, sounding as loud as if it were right against your eardrum. Faint laughter resounds once more, though it sounds both far away and near at the same time. The endless darkness is incessent.

You demand, "Who's there!"

Taeghan [General]: "Hold on, Priest."

Giggling is heard and a small, shadow being, what can only be described as a small girl.. comes skipping towards you in faint, shadowy illumination. Only her form is illuminated, and only enough so that it is blurred and more dark than light. She giggles, her pigtails of shadow bouncing.

Isanae [General]: "They are coming to find you Delcian!"

You [General]: "There....it's....she's a child."

Taeghan [General]: "Who is, my friend?"

You softly say, "Little girl.."

Isanae [General]: "A child lead me to my kidnapping and thing in my head, be careful!"

You softly ask, "Hunney, my name is Delcian did they grab you as well?"

Her flounced dress shifts in shadow each movement she makes as she nears you. The silence is so deafening that her footsteps sound as anvils with each step she takes. She grins widely, her eyes sparkling with white light in her shadowed face. As she nears you, she reaches out and with a single finger draws a line over your nose. Pain sears your body, pain of such an intensity that you have never experienced it before! Your flesh is on fire and her touch is eating at your skin! Her giggles echo your anguished screams as you stare in horror, unable to shrink away.

Hishinta [General]: "Anyone else hear that."

Delcian screams loudly as he tries to break free of the invisible bonds.

Isanae [General]: "Yes!"

Myriamie [General]: "No..."

Taeghan [General]: "Hear what?"

Avanti [General]: "I just heard a scream from the glacier."

Mithogras [General]: "What?"

Isanae [General]: "A scream."

Jeresheva [General]: "We heard it in the Landing."

Taeghan [General]: "We're looking."

You [General]: "She hurts....Taeghan!....please Teaghan... help!"

You quietly say, "Please....please let me go."

The girl does a twirl, skipping about your form and dragging her nail along your face as she goes. Each touch strips flesh from your face, dropping it in melted goo to the floor as she draws a line of agony across your cheekbone and eyelid to your ear. Laughter resounds in the darkness in response to your pleas, followed by her giggles.

Myriamie [General]: "Delcian. Fight them. Close your mind off to them. We're coming."

Taeghan [General]: "We are trying."

Isanae [General]: "Delcian hold onto your faith!"

Jeresheva [General]: "So much pain..."

Shilarra [General]: "We are coming."

Delcian screams loudly, his cries turing to soft whimpers as he struggles in vain.

The giggling shadow child stops, whispering softly in her child-like voice, "Where is your shield now, priest?"

You pleadingly stammer, "P-please.... no more."

Myriamie (Focused) [General]: "Hang on. We're coming. Just hang on."

You softly say, "I will tell them to leave....they won't find you, jus...."

You pleadingly say, "Don't..."

The shadow child gives you a pout, and then shrugs, skipping off into the shadows with her pigtails bouncing once more. The relief floods you as the pain is given a momentary pause and you are left in the ink-black darkness once more, your body encased in cold.

Isanae [General]: "We have reports of more screams and giggles in the Landing!"

You weakly say, "Ronan....please...."

Taeghan (Focused) [General]: "HOLD ON!"

Isanae [General]: "I have all assembled with me in the Keep, what should we do?"

Myriamie [General]: "Can you tell where they're coming from?"

Shilarra [General]: "Delcian keep the faith we are looking for you."

Delcian's eyes close as he tries to fall into trance.

A deep, angry voice booms through the darkness, startling you and shaking your every bone to its core. "Ronan is not HERE!" it shrieks, and then silence and pain is all that is left.

Mithogras [General]: "Keep alert?"

Delcian forces out the pain and the voices focusing on the mist, and Ronan.

Yonaton [General]: "I will tell bad stories of your home town, Delcian, if you do not fight and speak up."

Delcian whispers a soft prayer.

Isanae [General]: "Not good."

You think to yourself, "Ronan, my strength in peace and war, I humbly beseech Thee to look with favor upon me. "

A chant fills the shadows, echoing in the childish and innocent voice of your tormentor. "The Priest will scream, the Priest will fall. The Priest will succumb, He can't handle it at all! The Priest has no shield, the Priest has no sword, The priest is not fit to serve his lord!"

You [General]: "Ronan.... is not here today."

Myriamie [General]: "Delcian, don't you give up. Do not."

Jeresheva [General]: "Do not give up!"

Myriamie (Focused) [General]: "We're coming for you. You have to stay strong."

Yonaton [General]: "Fight, Delcian!"

You say, "I do not need my shield...I have Ronan."

Isanae [General]: "Cholen is always with me! And Ronan is always with you! You don't give up or I will put you in a dress and make you dance!"

After several moments, the silence is broken by a startling sound of metal scraping against the floor. Though you are suspended in darkness, unable to touch or feeling anything but the cold air, the sound is recognizable. It grows louder with each passing moment and seems to be nearing you. Before long, brief shadowy illumination shines down upon a bucket of dark, bubbling liquid. The smell is acidic and overwhelming, burning the hairs of your nose.

Vaein [General]: "Hold strong, Delcian. The Night is your masters realm, use it to your advantage."

Taeghan (Focused) [General]: "We are coming. Hold that thought close and dear."

You pleadingly say, "Wait....no...please."

You fearfully exclaim, "Please don't!"

Myriamie [General]: "Isanae, have you heard more screams? Can you get a fix on where they were?"

The skipping of the girl proceeds her arrival, and she does not giggle this time, only comes to a silent stop before you, standing next to the bucket. She grins silently and takes ahold of your trembling hand, patting it gently with her own.

Isanae [General]: "The screams were upon the wind."

Jeresheva [General]: "It has been quiet since the shadow children dissapeared."

Taeghan [General]: "We are well on our way to Icemule, though we shall be returning to the lands near Wehnimers soon."

You fearfully say, "Please child....don't do this."

You quietly say, "You don't have to do this...."

Yonaton [General]: "Ha! I am going to thump on your citizens, Delcian. What think you of that?"

The girl's grin widens and you are able to finally see that her teeth are not teeth, but fangs and razorsharp at that. They drip with a foul substance and her tongue is forked as it snakes forward and licks at your fingers one by one. Suddenly a hard grip is given and she yanks your hand down, plunging it into the bucket of acid as you shriek and struggle to no avail.

[Voln - Sadrieli] "Is it normal to hear crying and giggling in the graveyard?"

Isanae [General]: "The creams are worse."

Isanae [General]: "Pain and anguish."

Isanae [General]: "They are everywhere."

Myriamie [General]: "Where are you?"

Delcian screams loudly as acid hits flesh, he flails akwardly trying to pull away from the bucket.

Your hand is held in the acid, the horrifying burn of it all nonstop as your flesh melts from the bones and your blood boils. You are almost unable to bear it and after a moment, find yourself slipping into darkness from the sheer agony of it all.

You [General]: "Acid!...Taeghan please!"

Delcian fights the urgh to pass into blissfull darkness.

Taeghan [General]: "I am trying! I cannot sense you!"

Myriamie [General]: "Delcian we're coming. We're trying to find you."

[Darkness]
There is nothing but ink-dark blackness. There air is ice cold and a feeling of malice dominates the very air. There is no way out and no indication of a way in. No walls, no floor, no ceiling - just ink-black darkness.
Obvious exits: none

Isanae [General]: "Don't you dare give up on us!"

You think to yourself, "Taeghan has failed me....Ronan forsaken me...."

You loudly exclaim, "No!"

You loudly exclaim, "I am not alone!"

Isanae [General]: "Ware shadows of little girls, they sing of his plight like a rhyme!"

Yonaton [General]: "Delcian! Hold your pain and fear in! Give them nothing to feed on! Be storng, friend!"

You forcefully say, "They will find me....and they will kill you.."

Isanae [General]: "Again with the chant, the words now are: Oh how it burns, the caress of his failure. Oh how it aches, the agony of his betrayal! The priest will fall, The Priest will tumble! The priest will find this night that he is humbled!"

Yonaton [General]: "You are little in mind and manner. The priest will fare well and it will be you, who caves to weakness."

Giggling erupts from every corner of the darkness, as the girl finally releases your hand which is now nothing more than strips of singed flesh hanging from bone. The chanting erupts once more, melodically singing - "Oh how it burns, the caress of his failure. Oh how it aches, the agony of his betrayal! The priest will fall, The Priest will tumble! The priest will find this night that he is humbled!"

Hishinta [General]: "Do not let them be right! Prove them wrong, Delcian!"

Taeghan [General]: "Yonaton? Where are you?"

Jeresheva [General]: "Howls near the keep."

Delcian tries to raise what is left of his hand, the pain stoping him before the magic can.

Yonaton [General]: "I am on my way through."

The shadow child leans in close, mopping at your sweat-covered brow with a piece of her soft cloth dress. She whispers soothingly, "Are you humble yet Priest?"

Isanae [General]: "Howls near the Keep, staying outside as long as we feel it safe."

Mithogras [General]: "Tread with care!"

Myriamie [General]: "Beware the jackals, and get weapons blessed just in case."

You forcefully exclaim, "Ronan..my strength in peace and war, I humble beseech thee to look with favor upon me!"

Isanae [General]: "I can not bless, if jackals come I will lead all within the walls."

Delcian continues his prayer as he praises Ronan even when deserted.

The soothing smile abruptly averts to that of a grim strength and the child nods, leaning back from you and removing the cloth from your brow. She turns, walking away quietly and leaving the bucket behind. You are left once more in darkness and icy cold air.

Delcian swallows hard as he licks his dry lips.

Mithogras [General]: "No sign yet."

Isanae [General]: "Those gathered with me are joining in praying to Ronan to grant Delcian the faith and strength he needs."

Isanae [General]: "Delcian if you can hear us, we are praying."

Jeresheva [General]: "Stay strong, chosen of Ronan, our thoughts and all of strength is with you. Fight this madness!"

Silence is interrupted by the sound of the air moving about you as your body is suddenly turned slowly into an upside down position, hovering just over the bucket. You stare in horror at the liquid as it bubbles just mere inches from your head, your very fate suspended in unseen hands.

Myriamie (Focused) [General]: "If you can give us any clues to your location, it would help us. We want to find you. Your Shield is looking for you."

Myriamie (Focused) [General]: "Can you hear anything at all?"

You quietly say, "You don't have to do this."

You softly say, "This doesn't have to happen."

Delcian tries to push away the fear and slip into meditation.

A quiet, ice-cold voice whispers directly to your mind, stating, "Your God.. Your God is not here today, Priest." Immediately afterwards, you are turned and your face is dropped directly into the vat of acid. Flesh burns and sizzles, dripping from your bones immediately as your scream is lost in the blood gurgling in your throat from the attempt to breath in your own liquid flesh.

Delcian opens his mouth to scream only to have the acid rush in and burn away his tongue, his body jerks and flails to no avail as he prays for the release of death.

Only a few seconds pass before the area is suddenly ripped into by a blast of silvery light and a shriek of pain that can only come from those undead fills your agonized mind. Your body is freed and cradled, dropping you into the comfort of unconsciousness as you are whisked away.

You think to yourself, "Ronan, take me beyond the gate. My soul is yours."

The touch on your mind is cold, yet not foreign. The embrace is familiar and comforting. Your mind is cradled and held close as the whisper of night reaches your pain-ravaged mind, "Rest, as you are in My hands now, my faithful."

[Night's Embrace]
The darkness here is comforting and welcoming as it cradles you in its embrace. You float in silent contemplation, your mind secured and protected by the silvery pinpoints of light shining like stars.
Obvious exits: none

You think to yourself, "My lord...is this the Ebon gate? Has my time come?"

Delcian slips into the embrace and comfort of unconsciousness.

As you languidly float in the comfort of darkness, you are given this thought - "You have done well, my faithful. When the time comes, I will always be here with you." Afterwards, you are slowly dropped from the darkness and into the normal light of night.

You feel yourself being pulled away...

[Wehnimer's, Outside Gate]
Citizens, merchants and assorted dregs of society jostle against you before the great wooden gates of Wehnimer's Landing. Harried guards and militiamen try to keep the chaos to a minimum, but it is hard to keep track of those entering, let alone leaving, this large trading post. A dirt path encircling the wooden palisade of the town leads east and southwest. Nailed prominently to the wooden wall beside the gate is a sign you really should read. You also see the Shilarra disk, a rickety black plank shack and a Wayside Inn.
Obvious paths: north, east, southwest, northwest

You have severe head trauma and bleeding from the ears, snapped bones and serious bleeding from the neck, and a completely severed right hand.

You think to yourself, "Taeghan..."

Suddenly you have the strangest feeling that you are being watched.
The feeling fades as quickly as it came.

A cloud of dense silvery fog suddenly appears. The fog quickly dissipates to reveal Philnia.

A vacillating forest spirit floats in, following Philnia.

Suddenly you have the strangest feeling that you are being watched.
The feeling fades as quickly as it came.

You weakly say, "Taeghan..."

High Lord Brinret just slipped quietly through the wooden gates, his group following closely.

Brinret peers quizzically at you.

Myriamie kneels down.

Taeghan kneels down.

Taeghan reaches over and gently rests his hand on your shoulder.

Myriamie frowns.

Mithogras winces.

Speaking to you, Myriamie asks, "...what did they do to you?"

Brinret seems to lose an aura of confidence.

Myriamie flinches.

(Delcian reaches up weakly.)

Speaking to you, Taeghan says, "My friend..."

You weakly say, "Taeghan..."

Mithogras says, "The burns..."

Speaking quietly to you, Taeghan says, "I am here."

Lord Yonaton just came through the wooden gates.

Brinret says, "His face..."

Jeresheva just came through the wooden gates.

Taeghan nods slowly.

Lady Isanae just came through the wooden gates.

You close your eyes for a moment.

Jeresheva's face turns slightly pale.

Inium just came through the wooden gates.

Lord Vaein's group just came through the wooden gates.

Isanae kneels down.

Speaking to you, Taeghan asks, "What...who?"

Sadrieli just came down the southwest path.

Sadrieli just went through the wooden gates.

Brinret clasps Shilarra's hand tenderly.

Myriamie hangs her head.

Jeresheva flinches.

Sadrieli just came through the wooden gates.
It seems you have died, my friend. Although you cannot do anything, you are keenly aware of what is going on around you...

You mentally give a sigh of relief as you remember that the Goddess Lorminstra owes you a favor.

...departing in 14 mins...
* Delcian just bit the dust!

Vaein groans.

Jeresheva groans.

Isanae blinks.

Hishinta gasps.

Kunri just came through the wooden gates.

Taeghan roars!

Inium groans.

Taeghan bows his head and chants a short prayer, causing night black and silver light to momentarily coalesce in front of him.

Brinret put some aloeas stem in his black leather scrip.

Myriamie frowns.

Jeresheva snarls menacingly!

Inium searches around for a moment.

Taeghan snarls, "NO!"

Hishinta casually observes her surroundings.

Jeresheva melodically says, "I could not help him...."

Defenders Come to Assist

08/13/2011 04:01 PM CDT

Late this afternoon, a temple guard was spotted outside the trail to Voln near Wehnimer's Landing. Shortly after, several paladins of various faiths began showing up, occupying the area as well. The warriors of faith continued amassing, in Lower and Upper Dragonsclaw, and some moved on to fight the Illoke in the Badlands. While their cause seems related to the recent struggle against the Lornonites, their orders are unknown.

Tacked to the Wehnimer's North Gate

08/19/2011 03:50 PM CDT

Under cover of the crimson moon, a young boy rushes to the north gate of the city and removes a parchment from within his bag. Carefully unrolling it, he pauses a moment, catching his breath as he leans against the gate. A few passing locals give him a strange glance, considering his age and the time of the night during these dangerous times. The boy merely smiles, his eyes giving an unusual sparkle that the close observer would notice as magical in nature. After a few moments or rest, the boy completes his task and the result is a thick parchment, smudged from the elements' effect upon it and tattered at the edges, nailed securely to the exterior of the north gate of Wehnimer's Landing.

Giving the parchment a brief read, the boy nods and pulls his cowl over his face, disappearing into the crimson-hued shadows of night with very little effort. A nearby local man, having watched the curious occurance from the safety of the Wayside Inn, wandered out after the boy had gone, and took a look at the notice. Widened eyes were the response to what was read, and hurried footsteps into the city quickly followed as he too, disappeared into the misty, crimson-shadowed streets.

"The Shadows await their payment and are growing restless. If you have the required exchange, make your way to the designated spot this coming Day of the Huntress, the 26th day of the month, at half past the tenth hour. As usual, the boy awaits you."

On pale blue paper

08/22/2011 11:24 PM CDT

Player Log

>The paper's high quality and obvious expense, the ink's rich color, the beautiful blend of elven handwriting and human curvature in the letters will simply be ignored by those with the ability to appropriately understand the simple words:

"The Marshal's father is Palestra.
"The Light and Shadow shall yet mix.

"Charl bless, always:
"Nixandrea Peyroux Dagon Nalfein"

>The paper is otherwise unmarked, save for the green pin holding it tightly to the North Gate of the Landing. Nixxi is beyond reach from her usual haunts.

"Whut? Mis Nix? Ah ain't seen 'er today. Nut like 'er," the fisherman of Mist Harbor acknowledges uncomfortably. "Usually 'ere at least f-four times a day. Usually more." He frowns. "Nut like I was, y'know.. watchin'.. er anything. Just.. yup."

>The subject is then changed towards the weather and the coming winter.

Blinded by the Light

08/24/2011 07:43 PM CDT

[Solhaven, Mid-Morning]

Recovering a bit more each day, she has finally reached a point in the healing process where she gets up daily and walks without assistance. The days are hot and bright, even as she wanders past the docks where the breeze from the sea brings a bit of relief from the humidity. She savors them, though. Too long she felt no heat in her flesh as the venom's effect took hold of her very core. Many healers labored over her in an effort to help, and most of them brought some little bit of comfort, truth be told. But noone had been able to decipher the source of the poison. Various herbalists and alchemists came to look at her, conversing with the healers and studying her in great detail while she lay fighting internally. There was never a conclusion made, only conjectures and possibilities. She was not sure that it would ever be figured out, but she had managed to beat it and that was what she cared about at the moment. Sometimes, the path of her life took her down dark roads, but never quite as dark as this. Still, she clung to her convictions and the faith that she was on the right track, as she'd been directed her entire life.

As a child, she'd been deemed 'marked' by the locals as one who would foretell of prophecy. This was such a mixed declaration for her family, and for her, if she were honest. On one hand, it was amazing and exciting to know that you could be the vehicle for the Arkati, and indeed even for the more mystical powers that are not spoken of except with others who have the gift. On the other, it was a lonely life and filled with obstacles and difficulties that noone could help her with. She would have to be strong, and perservere to make it down the path chosen for her. There would be those who scorned her, called her demoness and declared her a fake, or worse, a harbinger of evil. There would be those who did not understand, and by nature, people always fear what they do not understand. If she were honest, sometimes she did not understand either. But she did not need to understand. She just knew it would be what it would be, and that is what she was meant to know. Rather subjective, but honest. And if she were nothing else, she could be called honest. She never lied, and she never tricked. She always gave the news she had to give without anything coloring it. Sometimes, she could not say everything at once, as it was not given to her in that fashion. But she never withheld, nor lied. It just wasn't how it worked. Convincing others of this was no easy task. And so she enjoyed these moments when she could walk outside in the sun, away from the darkness that had been with her most of her life.

A group of men and women robed in sanguine silk with emerald lining crossed through her path, stepping past her with ease as they chatted amongst themselves. A quick flick of her eyes took in one's appearance in its entirety and she noticed the pewter pendant shaped into a stylized wisp of smoke. Further down, her gaze took in the thin emerald band on the woman's finger, engraved with the same wisp as the pendant. Another quick glance noted that the others wore the same things. "Ivasians.." she thought to herself, and nodded as she continued on her walk, though now not quite as leisurely as before. "They have come into the light in full, it seems." she murmured to herself and her companion, the guard sent with her by the church, shot her an inquisitive glance. "Oh, nothing. Just an old woman's ramblings." she said, forcing a smile to her wrinkled visage as she hobbled on. Once she reached the healers' abode, she nodded to the guard, who nodded in turn and took his leave of her once she was safely to the steps. As she closed the doors, another group passed nearby - this one smaller than the last and comprised of three young women and a single young man - their robes of crimson linen chained with onyx-set bloodjewels and their black scimitar-shaped medallions dangling from their necks. Though, she noticed, one of them was clad in something different - the young man she realized - he was clad in a pristine ivory robe with bloodjewels edging the sleeves and a blackened steel chain suspending a glass-encased petrified heart. "Oh. They are now mixing together openly as well.. Yes, I need to get to my notes." she thought to herself, closing the door behind her as she watched the group walk away from her window, none of them concerned about being seen in the slightest.

The Light Sworn

08/24/2011 09:44 PM CDT

Player Log

Delcian's group just went through a graceful Liabo marble arch.

[The Shrine of Dreams]
Stars surround you, twinkling brightly as far as the eye can see. Or so it seems, until you look more closely, and realize that the walls and ceiling of this room are made of rocks pieced together in such a way that bits of light flicker through the crevices, giving the illusion of being beneath a starlit sky. Pinpoints of light reflect off of the polished black marble floor, adding to the sensation that you have entered the heavens themselves. You also see a graceful marble altar with a shallow font on it.
Also here: Journeywoman Sadrieli, Evandre, Lord Myke, Shilarra, Lord Vaein, Delcian
Obvious exits: out

Evandre glances around the room.

Shilarra turns to face a graceful marble altar.

A dusky pure silver lynx saunters in.

Delcian says, "The Shrine of Dreams."

Shilarra bows to a graceful marble altar.

Sadrieli bows to a graceful marble altar.

Shilarra gives a dusky pure silver lynx a bite of her haphip root.

Vaein shuts his eyes for a brief moment.

Myke smiles fondly as he surveys the room.

Vaein takes a deep breath.

Shilarra put some haphip root in her leather jacket.

A dusky pure silver lynx emits a surprisingly deep growl!

You gaze heavenward.

You take a deep breath.

You slowly and deliberately empty your filled lungs.

Myke takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment. A faint aura flickers around him.

Delcian kneels down.

Delcian closes his eyes for a moment, as his fingertips touch a shallow font on the surface of the altar.

Shilarra removes a tiny pink pearl from in her leather gempouch.

You kneel down.

Myke walks towards Delcian.

Myke takes a few steps to his left.

Shilarra carefully places a tiny pink pearl on the floor.

Sadrieli dips her fingers in a shallow font on the surface of the altar.

Myke kneels down.

Shilarra takes a few steps to her right.

Myke just opened a ornate eonake tome case.

Shilarra kneels down.

(Rhyssa folds her hands before her and bows her head.)

Sadrieli kneels down.

Delcian tilts his head down.

Vaein shifts his weight.

Vaein kneels down.

Sadrieli tilts her head down.

Vaein folds his hands in his lap.

Shilarra tilts her head down.

Myke removes a white dreamstone from in his eonake tome case.

Myke reverently places a white dreamstone on the floor.

Myke just closed a ornate eonake tome case.

Delcian recites:

"Ronan, grant us vision in this dark time."

Myke closes his eyes for a moment, as his fingertips touch a shallow font on the surface of the altar.

Evandre kneels down.

Evandre closes his eyes for a moment.

Evandre closes his eyes for a moment, as his fingertips touch a shallow font on the surface of the altar.

You slowly and deliberately empty your filled lungs.

Delcian recites loudly:

"Remember your faithfull, and trust in us to make the proper choices."

You close your eyes for a moment.

Vaein whispers, "Never have I seen a religious ceremony of this world in action.."

Rhyssa smiles slightly.

Delcian recites:

"In your name we pray for guidance, patience and stength. "

You quietly whisper to Vaein, "Perhaps I should take you to a temple sometime."

Sadrieli loses the flickering silver energy surrounding her.

Delcian recites:

"Strength of mind, body and soul."

Delcian removes some jet black prayer beads etched with silver edged longswords from his neck.

Delcian wraps his steel prayer beads around his hand with a look of intense devotion on his face.

You place a hand over your heart.

Delcian hangs some jet black prayer beads etched with silver edged longswords around his neck.

Delcian clasps his hands in a reverent gesture.

Vaein cocks his head.

Delcian tilts his head up.

Delcian stands up.

Delcian turns around.

Delcian pulls the cowl of his organdy cloak lower over his face in an attempt to shut out the world around him.

You tilt your head up.

Delcian pushes the cowl of his organdy cloak off of his head.

Shilarra tilts her head up.

Delcian removes a blue-edged white silk mask, revealing his face.

Shilarra cocks her head at Delcian.

Vaein glances up.

(Evandre peeks an eye open.)

Evandre glances around the room.

You glance down.

Delcian calmly says, "Tonight...tonight we were met with a force that was larger, better trained and honestly more dangerous then any other we have faced before."

Delcian calmly says, "We saw the outcome, some still feel the sting of our failing."

Evandre appears to be less protected.

Delcian says, "However we must take this experiance as a chance to grow."

Myke looks less calm and refreshed than a moment ago.

Delcian says, "It is time for those who would serve Liabo to move to the front of this conflict."

You nod.

Delcian says, "It is time to make choices...tough choices."

Evandre nods firmly.

Vaein gently rests his hand on Myke's shoulder.

Delcian says, "Tonight I pledge myself fully to eradication of Lornon."

Shilarra casts her vote with an emphatic "Aye!"

A dusky pure silver lynx settles into a comfortable sitting position.

You gaze at Delcian.

Delcian loudly says, "For those that would join me in this I pledge myself to you."

Sadrieli tilts her head up.

Vaein is admiring Delcian.

Delcian says, "No longer will this mask cover what was done to me."

Delcian exclaims, "Let the world see me...and us...for what we trully are!"

Vaein's entire body tenses as he clenches his fist.

Shilarra declares, "I pledge as well to join you and stand by your side in the eradication of Lornon!"

You nod in agreement.

Sadrieli lets out a scream of rage.

Shilarra blinks.

You glance at Sadrieli.

Delcian takes a moment to observe Sadrieli.

Delcian smiles.

A dusky pure silver lynx emits a surprisingly deep growl!

Delcian says, "Apparently our young initiate feels strongly."

Shilarra looks charged with power.

You softly say, "My life has always been pledged to that will distroys Light and Life... I will continue this path, till the end of my life."

Speaking sullenly to Delcian, Shilarra says, "I did not do so well keeping you safe, I will endevor to....never let that happen again."

Myke says, "For those that live in fear, their very lives harvested. For those who would be bound against their will by those who would abuse the strength they wield. I pledge to stand amongst all who would fight back against Lornon. To protect those with not the strength the do so themselves, and to educate those who would live in fear for not knowing the powers that protect them even when they realize it not."

Myke scowls.

Myke stands up.

Speaking to you, Delcian says, "Those who serve the crimson moon would see us all dead...or worse, turned into the very undead we seek to free."

Vaein says, "Just as Lornon tried to strike us down, so shall vengeance be done Delcian. For what they have done to you, these people, myself. For everything they have done, I will fight at your side until Justice is served."

Delcian nods at Myke.

Delcian nods at Vaein.

Speaking to Delcian, you say, "I'm aware... my trail was not my choice... but I choose to follow it... no matter the consquences or end."

You stand back up.

A dusky pure silver lynx's tail darts back and forth sharply as he purrs.

Delcian reaches into his organdy cloak, producing a twisted ceremonial dagger from within.

Evandre says, "There's a vision. Fer each an' every soul, there's a great image waitin' to unferl. Ah pledge t'oppose those who would sully the tapestry o' life with their own twisted visions an' pervert what will be."

Delcian nods at Evandre.

Delcian says, "Then by our vows, our actions...."

(Delcian draws the blades of his dagger across the palm of his hand.)

Shilarra taps a cord-tied hide ankle sheath that she is wearing.

Delcian slowly says, "And by blood, let our bond be sealed."

Delcian offers Myke a twisted ceremonial dagger.

Myke accepts Delcian's ceremonial dagger.

(Myke grips his palm around the blade of the dagger and slips it free with a trickle of blood filtering out from his knuckles.)

Myke says, "For Liabo."

You accept Myke's offer and are now holding a twisted ceremonial dagger.

Vaein glances between Myke and yourself.

Delcian picks up a white dreamstone.

(Rhyssa exhales slowly as she turns her palm up, pressing the edge of the dagger along her palm, dark blood trickling out around it.)

(Delcian grips the dreamstone tightly, his bloody hand making the gem slick.)

Vaein blinks.

Vaein has accepted your offer and is now holding a twisted ceremonial dagger.

Delcian offers Myke a white dreamstone.

Myke accepts Delcian's white dreamstone.

Myke tightens his grip on his white dreamstone.

Myke rubs a white dreamstone in his hand.

You accept Myke's offer and are now holding a white dreamstone.

Delcian says, "Tonight is our first step towards freedom for all."

(Rhyssa curls her fingers gently around the stone, turning it slowly along the wound.)

(Vaein looks a bit confused for a moment, glancing between Rhyssa and Mike and then back to Delcian. After a a second he quietly lays the dagger against his palm and pulls lightly, a faint red trickle dancing across the blade.)

Vaein offers Sadrieli a twisted ceremonial dagger.

Sadrieli accepts Vaein's ceremonial dagger.

Vaein has accepted your offer and is now holding a white dreamstone.

Vaein's entire body tenses as he tightens his grip on his white dreamstone.

(Delcian pulls a strip of cloth from his cloak and wraps it around his hand tightly.)

(Sadrieli holds her palm out, and grips the dagger tightly, dragging it deeply across her palm, with no readable expression.)

(Vaein presses the dreamstone into the fresh wound on his hand, digging deeply into the skin.)

Vaein offers Sadrieli a white dreamstone.

(Rhyssa examines the wound in her palm for a moment before folding her hand shut tightly.)

Sadrieli somberly says, "I shall eradicate undead and those who could create them at every opportunity, even if it cost me my life. Lornon shall not prevail, or gain half a step of footing. I will do all I can to serve and support Liabo and Lord Ronan, as well as His Chosen."

Myke says, "Courage, Faith, and Perserverance. Defend what is dear to you with all of your ferocity. Move forward, and never stop. Never hesitate to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Never look back from the light that Liabo sets before us."

Delcian nods approvingly at Sadrieli.

Sadrieli accepts Vaein's white dreamstone.

Vaein nods slowly.

Vaein's entire body tenses as he clenches his fist.

Sadrieli offers Shilarra a twisted ceremonial dagger.

Shilarra accepts Sadrieli's ceremonial dagger.

A dusky pure silver lynx emits a surprisingly deep growl!

(Shilarra draws Delcian's dagger across the palm of her hand watching the blood flow for a moment before vowing not to rest till all the undead are freed, she pauses a moment before grabbing the lynx's paw and drawing the blade over it as well.)

Shilarra offers Delcian a twisted ceremonial dagger.

Sadrieli smiles slightly as the coolness of the dreamstone gem eases her fresh wound the smallest degree, she seems calm and full of resolve.

Delcian accepts Shilarra's ceremonial dagger.

Delcian offers Evandre a twisted ceremonial dagger.

Sadrieli grips her white dreamstone a little tighter.

Evandre accepts Delcian's ceremonial dagger.

Vaein shuts his eyes for a brief moment.

Shilarra flushes slightly, some color reaching her cheeks.

Vaein stands up.

Sadrieli offers Shilarra a white dreamstone.

Shilarra says, "Am sorry I thought I was last."

Shilarra accepts Sadrieli's white dreamstone.

You slowly and deliberately empty your filled lungs.

Evandre says, "No rest 'til those less fortunate can rest easy."

(Shilarra presses the stone against her palm closing her eyes for a moment before doing the same to the massive cat.)

Shilarra offers Evandre a white dreamstone.

(Evandre decisively cuts into his palm with barely a flinch. Blood quickly begins to pool along the seam of the cut.)

Evandre accepts Shilarra's white dreamstone.

Evandre offers Delcian a twisted ceremonial dagger.

Delcian accepts Evandre's ceremonial dagger.

Delcian slips a twisted ceremonial dagger into an inner pocket of his organdy cloak.

Evandre gazes in awe at a white dreamstone in his hand.

Evandre tightens his grip on his white dreamstone.

Evandre offers Delcian a white dreamstone.

Delcian says, "Others will join our cause, but let us never forget the unity we have here this night....Never forget that it was on this night that the war against apathy began."

You softly say, "For those that cannot defend themselves... and those that lost their lives trying to protect that which is right."

Speaking to a dusky pure silver lynx, Shilarra says, "You fought bravely Taj."

Shilarra's dragonmist crystal, which is set against her forehead, dims and then suddenly brightens again as silver sparks swirl within the gem.

Delcian accepts Evandre's white dreamstone.

You close your eyes for a moment.

Vaein nods.

Vaein says, "For those that can not defend themselves, they shall be defended."

Shilarra seems a bit less imposing.

Shilarra nods in agreement at Vaein.

You smile at Vaein.

Delcian kneels down.

Delcian reaches out and touches his steel prayer beads.

Myke says, "Liabo, guide our minds, bodies, and spirits."

Delcian continues to beseech the gods for mercy and guidance.

Myke kneels down.

Delcian chants a short but reverent orison, asking to be granted a peaceful sleep.

Myke continues to beseech the gods for mercy and guidance.

Myke bows his head and chants a short prayer, causing bright white and muted black light to momentarily coalesce in front of him.

Shilarra beseeches her deity for some divine assistance.

Evandre continues to beseech the gods for mercy and guidance.

Delcian loudly exclaims, "Ronan hear us!"

You kneel down.

Delcian raises a hand while murmuring a soft orison...

Vaein kneels down.

Delcian gestures.

Delcian gets a frustrated look on his face.

Vaein folds his hands in his lap.

Vaein shuts his eyes for a brief moment.

(Rhyssa folds her hands again, bowing her head.)

Delcian says, "We pledge ourselves to what is right, and pray you will look with favor upon our mission."

A dusky pure silver lynx's tail darts back and forth sharply as he purrs.

Shilarra murmurs, "Mother protect us, assist the Dreamer and his Choosen in this fight to ward off the darkness which has seeped into the lands."

(Delcian places the dreamstone on the altar.)

Delcian drops a white dreamstone.

You place a hand over your heart.

Myke continues to beseech the gods for mercy and guidance.

Delcian says, "We have fought, and bleed together."

Myke says, "Lord Voln, Lady Lorminstra, grant us the strength to protect the souls of the innocent."

Vaein continues to beseech the gods for mercy and guidance.

Delcian continues to beseech the gods for mercy and guidance.

Sadrieli continues to beseech the gods for mercy and guidance.

Delcian raises his steel prayer beads adoringly to his lips.

Sadrieli continues to beseech the gods for mercy and guidance.

Sadrieli continues to beseech the gods for mercy and guidance.

A dusky pure silver lynx emits a surprisingly deep growl!

You take a deep breath.

A cloudy dragonmist crystal traced in silvery wisps on Shilarra's forehead glimmers in the ambient light, swirling with liquid flecks of silver, gold, and vivid crimson.

Myke continues to beseech the gods for mercy and guidance.

Evandre continues to beseech the gods for mercy and guidance.

Delcian nods.

Delcian slips a blue-edged white silk mask into an inner pocket of his organdy cloak.

Delcian stands up.

Delcian turns around.

You tilt your head up.

Shilarra asks, "Does anyone need anything to leave as an offering if they wish?"

Evandre closes his eyes for a moment, as his fingertips touch a shallow font on the surface of the altar.

Delcian looks over at Shilarra and shakes his head.

A dusky pure silver lynx twitches his whiskers.

Myke closes his eyes for a moment, as his fingertips touch a shallow font on the surface of the altar.

Cool water washes over your fingertips, and for a moment you are carried away on the wings of a dream.

As your eyes close, you envision a cobblestone lane, with moonlight washing everything in a pale, silvery glow. Candles flicker in the windows of cozy houses nestled against each other along the quiet street, and the world seems utterly tranquil. The clatter of hooves causes you to look up just in time to see a youth riding away atop a magnificent white steed.

Somewhere nearby, something howls, sending an unearthly chill down your back. Then, moments later, silence.

Shilarra closes her eyes for a moment, as her fingertips touch a shallow font on the surface of the altar.

You shudder.

Delcian dips his fingers in a shallow font on the surface of the altar.

Shilarra stands up.

Delcian smiles.

You glance at a shallow font on a graceful marble altar.

You take a deep breath.

A dusky pure silver lynx scrambles back up onto his feet.

Vaein continues to beseech the gods for mercy and guidance.

Vaein stands up.

Sadrieli closes her eyes for a moment, as her fingertips touch a shallow font on the surface of the altar.

You stand back up.

You frown.

Delcian says, "The Arkati will answer when the tme is right."

As Shilarra scratches the pure silver lynx behind the ears, the feline tilts his head into Shilarra's hand.

You softly say, "They always do."

Delcian says, "Say what prayers you wish to say, and when you are finished I shall be outside."

Vaein shifts his weight.

Delcian just went out.

You take a few steps towards a graceful marble altar.

Vaein glances at a graceful marble altar.

Myke continues to beseech the gods for mercy and guidance.

Shilarra bows to a graceful marble altar.

Evandre stands up.

Evandre just went out.

Sadrieli stands up.

(Rhyssa folds her hands, once again, bowing her head as she stands in seeming silence for a few long moments.)

Journeywoman Sadrieli just went out.

Vaein nods slowly.

Lord Vaein just went out.

You take a deep breath.

Rhyssa smiles slightly.

[Beyond the Shore of Dreams]
Tears spring unbidden to your eyes as you bask in the serenity found here behind the waterfall. The music of water rushing over the stones surrounds you, easing away the cares of the world as you ponder the liquid wall enclosing this room on two sides. Moonlight angles down from a break in the rocks on the northern wall, illuminating the fine spray of droplets floating through the air so that you are in the midst of a small sea of swirling silver stars. You also see a graceful Liabo marble arch.
Also here: Lord Vaein, Journeywoman Sadrieli, Shilarra, Evandre, Delcian
Obvious exits: out

You join Delcian.

An ebon shadow swirls through a cloudy dragonmist crystal traced in silvery wisps on Shilarra's forehead, momentarily casting her countenance in darkness.

Lord Myke just arrived.

Myke nods.

Myke joins Delcian's group.

Evandre joins Delcian's group.

Your surroundings blur into a white fog . . .

An Exchange Concluded

08/27/2011 05:45 PM CDT

The evening of August 26, a group of people met with a Scribner once more to make an exchange that had been promised before. They first met Ydos, a boy whose eyes betrayed a greater age. Ydos held a brief discussion with those present, including an attempt to get Delcian to acknowledge that there was room for grey in his black-and-white world view. Delcian refused.

Ydos opened a portal to a sanctuary where the group met with the Scribner Ningrint. Both Ydos and Ningrint were not named in game so their names would most likely not be known. In a brief meeting, a half-circle shard that had once been the lid of the urn Caden used to keep himself young was given to the Scribner. The lid had contained an inscription that was of interest to the Scribners, who themselves were dead and appeared intrigued by magic that could keep a person young.

In return for the shard, Ningrint gave the group an ancient tome said to contain the Dark Requiem, a prophecy written thousands of years ago by a zealot who believed himself the vessel of Sheru. It is believed that the Dark Requiem prophecies a series of events that are now unfolding under the crimson moon, culminating in the rule of Lornon over Elanthia. These events follow a specific order, but if the series is disrupted or prevented, the final rule of Lornon is also prevented. The book just received is believed to be the only copy of the prophecy, so possession of it is quite significant.

Despite the presence of Caden, the exchange went off without a hitch. Ningrint informed the group that the tome was very fragile and must be translated. He then promptly vanished without answering any more questions.

The group left the area and immediately vanished into a major sanctuary to plot their next move. As they were discussing, the seer Yuratlya was heard on the thought networks, and they went to meet her. She had recovered enough for make short trips on her own, and said that her ordeal after being poisoned with an exotic snake venom had also partly restored her physical sight. Tonight, she had sensed a lightness in the mists and had ventured forth to see what had happened.

Nilandia took a seat at Yuratlya's feet, and the seer observed that she had many questions she wished to ask. Nilandia nodded her assent, and asked a question concerning a darkness unacknowledged, and how she could help it be seen. Yuratlya replied that the crimson moon reveals the truths about everyone, but not everyone will wish to see them. Nilandia should instead worry more about her own darkness, rather than helping others to see their own. Yuratlya also said that what is done in shadow shall always come to light, and those who perform dark acts shall see them for what they are, even if they believe them otherwise.

Though many held suspicions of the Yuratlya's motives and trustworthiness, it was confirmed to her that the book had been obtained after she had pointed out that she had been the one to tell them about it. A discussion ensued concerning whether she could be trusted, as the seer had claimed that she has no agenda for darkness or light. This discussion, and others, continued after she had departed.

Hanos Vs. Myke - Brawl at Moot Hall

08/31/2011 12:17 AM CDT

Player Log

Master Hanos just arrived.
>
Hanos strides over to stand before you.
>
Hanos steps towards Myke and extends his right foot, catching Myke square in the jaw before driving his knee into the Giantman's neck, pinning him to the ground!
>
Speaking angrily to you, Hanos roars, "Why would you let your allies jump into the Seer like a pack of jackals!"

>raise eyebrow
You are still stunned.

You manage to make a faint wheezing sound.

Speaking to you, Hanos exclaims, "You are a tyrant in the times when we need a leader!"

Speaking to you, Hanos exclaims, "If you do not change how you act, you will lead this world into peril!"

You beseech Voln for some divine assistance.
Your petition to Voln has been heard and you feel a renewed freedom as a restricting force is abolished from you.
You are no longer stunned.

You mutter, "I do.. m-more than you realize. You call me.. a tyrant? You strike me, your ally?"

You say, "What are you even t-talking about.."

Hanos snarls and jumps back, his hands quickly moving into an aggressive position.

(Myke shakes his head, clearing out the cobwebs.)

You sit up.

Speaking to you, Hanos says, "You are watched. Never forget that."

You say, "I don't lead anything, Hanos. Except my little band of Warders in trying to clear this town."

You say, "None of this cryptic-ness out of you."

You say, "Speak plainly."

You stand back up.

You dust yourself off.

Speaking bluntly to you, Hanos asks, "Are you intelligent enough to decipher this book?"

You see Master Hanos.
He appears to be a Human.
It is difficult to properly see his features as the hood of his cloak is pulled down over his face.
He has some minor cuts and bruises on his right hand.
He is wearing a vultite aegis, a floor-length dark leather cloak with a deeply cowled hood, a close-cut

thick ebon wool skullcap, a dusty brown linen shirt with rolled sleeves, a narrow plain canvas pouch, some

fitted charcoal leather pants with faint wrinkles, and a pair of supple leather boots.

You say, "The book? I don't know the language it was written in.. I'm not a scholar, Hanos."

You say, "I was a damned slave. It took forever just to learn to read common for me."

You make a horrendous warthog-like noise.

(Myke rubs his jaw.)

Speaking firmly to you, Hanos asks, "I am not smart enough....YOU are not smart enough...Why would you not utilize the person who is capable?"

You say, "I've been doing everything I can. I know who can, damn it, but I can't just make decisions for everyone, I have to convince them."

You scowl at Hanos.
>
Speaking to you, Hanos says, "You need to convey like you gripe."

You say, "I am not a tyrant, as you stated."

You growl ferociously!

Speaking to Hanos, you say, "I know who can read the damnable book, but I must make all involved realize it and accept it or we're just going to descend into infighting."

Speaking loudly to you, Hanos roars, "Now is not the time to dally, get her the damn book! None of you are capable of defending it should Azorlok come forth and claim it."

You say, "Alright! Fine! I will speak to the carrier, and it will be arranged..."

You glower darkly at Hanos.

You say, "But if you ever think to strike me again for your frustrations, I will give you something to be sore about."

You turn to face Hanos.

Hanos clenches his fist until his right palm crackles with pure energy.

You say, "Because hear me now..."

(Myke clenches his own fist, a dim white radiance illuminating it with wisps of white flame.)

Speaking to you, Hanos says, "You are not ready for me yet, Warder."

Speaking to Hanos, you say, "I swore to Sarrah that I would lead the Warders into the light from what was, and YOU are vastly underestimating my determination and capabilities, Hanos."

You say, "I'm a Warder, you know what that means. Don't question my resolve or direction."

You point at Hanos.

You say, "Ever."

Hanos twists and rotates his wrist, forming the curves of a large shield edged in energy.

You bite the tip of your thumb, drawing blood while your other hand clenches into a fist. You rake your thumb across your knuckles, rubbing a streak of crimson over the runic tribal markings as you chant a solemn prayer under your breath. As you cease your chanting, you draw your fist a back and assume a

martial stance.

You slowly pace to your left, moving in a circle around Hanos.

Hanos glances at you.

You say, "My fight is with the cultists, I suggest you save your energy for Azorlok."

Hanos moves into a defensive stance, ready to fend off an attack.

Hanos slams his fist into the shield, causing the energy to shatter and dissipate.

Speaking to you, Hanos says, "Good. You only needed to be woken up, not removed."

You say, "I will rally Liabo. I will retrieve the codex. And I will lead the Warders to victory."

Hanos smirks.

You fold your arms over your chest.

Speaking to you, Hanos says, "Then act. The time for bickering is done."

Speaking to you, Hanos says, "You know that your...Chosen...are not what they seem...You've seen this."

You say, "I have faith their purpose will reveal itself in time. The chosen are such for a reason."

Speaking to you, Hanos asks, "Are you one of the jackals, or can you change before it is too late?"

You give your eyebrow a little workout.

Speaking to you, Hanos says, "Sometimes you need more than a kick to the face. Don't make me come forth without reason again."

Hanos says, "Handle yourself accordingly."

You say, "I'm still not clear why I am so..."

You say, "Vital to this."

You furrow your brow, probably adding a wrinkle or two in the process.

Speaking to you, Hanos says, "Because you are a catalyst. Either your aid will damn this place, or the flames you can create will cleanse."

(Myke looks down at his hand, flexing his fingertips momentarily.)

Hanos says, "Get the Seer the book and stop all this nonsense."

You nod firmly.

Hanos walks off towards the Voln Monastary.

The Black Serpents Coils

08/31/2011 08:54 PM CDT

[Dark Cavern]
The tunnel opens up into a wide, circular chamber. The craggy rock walls curve overhead into the darkness, their surfaces blackened through the years by the large torches set within them. A large slab of granite sits in middle of the room, ringed with dark stains, ageless dust and charred stubs of wax. Deep channels are carved into the stone floor, their crude yet sinuous routes weaving a radiating serpentine pattern around the slab. You also see a trail of blood.
Obvious exits: south

A quartet stood within the cavern. Three stood in layered copper linen robes edged with green scales on their cowls, emerald medallions adorning their necks. The fourth stood in moldering black robes which consumed him entirely with the other trio facing him.

"I don't know about this," one of the robed figures spoke up in a hesitant voice.

"I did not asssk what you thought," the black-robed figure stated in a flat, raspy, and hissing tone. Stretching a scarcely visible jaw riddled in scars, there was a sickening pop and briefly a scarred and forked tongue pushed into sight along the edge of his lower lip. One of the robed figures flinched.

"But there's no way this isn't just pushing them further. We've no shortage of sacrifices, willing or.. otherwise," came a stern female voice from one of the copper-robed figures.

The third chimed in with a youthful masculine voice, "I can't do this. We've too many other options. I won't do this."

Silence reigned as the dark figure shifted, limping to a corner of the granite slab. Tracing a scarred, bent fingertip over the bronze serpent gracing the surface.

A soft and sibiliant hissing began to rise in the corners of the room. The trio of robed figures each began to glance around, only one of the trio managing to feign a look of calm. The concern was readily apparent on the faces of the other two. Like the beating of a pulse the soft swell of the serpentine chorus rose and fell. From the faintest of hisses tickling the edge of the senses to a crowding, confining swarm, the hissing rose. A blackened and splintering yellow fingernail scraped the edge of the slabs inset image, and the hissing came to a stop.

The fingertip bent inwards. As broken as the finger looked the gesture seemed impossibly paintful. An equally disgusting thumbnail scraped against the fingernail and a dirt brown-black bloodclot shook loose from under the nail with a flick.

"I trussst we can continue with lesss disssent amongsst ourssselvess, now?" With only a brief pause, the raspy voice continued, "Now go.. Retrieve what you have been inssstructed to. Take your par-ssselss to the ssshrine we have prepared. Do not quessstion me again."

The three copper-robed figures filtered out uncomfortably without another word.

Survival

09/01/2011 09:03 AM CDT

Brooding.. he'd been brooding for days. It was somewhat enlightening and he had to admit.. pleasurable. He rubbed the scar on his cheek, left there by the demon several nights before. Why.. why must pain always be mixed with pleasure. He took out his idle and rubbed it. His fingers running over the edges in gentle reverance, but nothing.. no reaction. He sighed, heavily. So much had happened. So much truth, so much deception. She had come. The one promised. The one that would be willing. She was a dream in alabaster.. a midnight blue on black. All she did was smile and he knew. She was chestnut and flowers. Justice. Had it come full circle? Was it all for naught? The sleeper was probably right, he thought to himself. Damned. He saw her again, several times over the passing days, always, she was alone, nothing but a smile.. a hint.. of promise.

"Lady, how is your night?", he said

"It is well", she replied, "And your's m'lord?"

M'lord, the world sent chills down his spine at that word. The promise, the hint, the.. offering.

"I am well.."

Turning he left, fear rising in his throat. "I won't give in. I won't!" Knowing, even as he thought it, that the odds were he would. He was marked. He knew it. An open door, a conduit.. and no one had bothered to shut it. He'd been abandoned by the sleeper, the one he felt he could trust, but who had given up. He was running out of options.. running.. always running. Would he stand and fight? The dog had spit on him, SPIT... wasn't something he would let go. Anger welled up in him, and something very quiet inside him, whispered, given into it. Use it.

He was turning, turning and running, and that's when she found him again.. and blackness enveloped him.. sweet sweet blackness...

Children at Play

09/01/2011 12:46 PM CDT

. . . He handed the last of the small handfuls of coins out and showed them the picture so artfully crafted by his subordinate.

"This is her. Find her, and tell her she is needed. I presume she will know who asks for her."

The swarm of children look at the picture, leaning over one another with enthusiastic nods or a tongue tucked into a cheek with concentration as they look at the woman's image. After a few nods, the small group of children begin to filter off into the town.

"Well, this is the easy part.." He sighed slightly and reached up to massage his tired eyes.

He didn't even want to begin to consider the argument that might follow.

Chapter 1 Summary

Provided by Naionna, covering November 2010 to August 2011

Locations: Wehnimers Landing, River's Rest, Solhaven, Icemule Trace, Teras, exteriors of Ta'Vaalor and Ta'Illistim

General Synopsis: Yuratlya, a blind seer, appeared to players in November of 2010 to convey the coming of a Sheruvian prophecy. In December, the Crimson Moon appeared as a normal phenomenon known to happen yearly during the end of the year, but did not end as usual. Beginning in January, several sacrifices started to occur, with the increasing agitation and fear growing amongst the populace of Elanthia due to the constant presence of the Crimson Moon and its effects. Invasions, kidnappings, appearances of altars and Lornon cultists become the normal occurrence.

February, a young girl named Piperel is kidnapped in Solhaven and several adventurers go to her rescue as they are familiar with the family. She is found the next day, but has been through something supernatural in nature and now has visions in the forms of nightmares every time she sleeps. She is deemed the 'Herald' of the prophecy by the seer and deteriorates rapidly due to the effects of her affliction. The seer spends a great deal of time with the child and her father, Erim, documenting her visions and speaking to her about her experiences. She concludes that the prophecy she spoke of in November has now started and is in progress fully.

In March, an attempt is made to release the child from her torment by a cleric of Koar, Sedrygin, in Solhaven at the arch of the Liabo. It fails, and the seer confides in those in attendance of the details she knows of the prophecy and an important tome named the Dark Requiem. She provides them with the information that the tome contains the steps to the prophecy, and is in fact considered by many to be the word of Sheru, written thousands of years ago by a half-elven zealot who claimed he was fed the text by the Lord of Nightmares Himself. Only one copy exists and must be found if those who oppose the prophecy would like to know more of what they face and get a foothold on stopping it. In the same meeting, a man called Hanos appears in the crowd to observe and is named by the seer as a Warder, though he has yet to confirm such a thing. His role is yet unknown other than his opposition to Luukos as a part of his vows being a Master of Voln. Several others, however, are revealed as "Chosen" of the Liabo - a priest by the name of Delcian, a Knight of Ronan and Vaalorian soldier by the name of Taeghan, and a Knight of Ronan by the name of Hubris. These three are named 'Chosen of Ronan' and are tasked with finding the "written word of Ronan" to aid in the process of locating the needed tome. In addition, a sylvan healer by the name of Nilandia is deemed a Keeper of Knowledge due to her devotions to Lumnis and is given an unsual map of the stars that is rumored to detail the numbers on each side of the conflict, ever changing as the roles do.

During an unusual disturbance in Darkstone Castle near Wehnimer's Landing, a phylactery is discovered in a shrine to Sheru within the castle itself. Several adventurers gathered and reported strange whisperings requesting a release of something or someone. One such adventurer, a sorcerer by the name of Caden, spoke the name given to him in said whisperings and released a being named Azorlok. Ancient and of enormous power, Azorlok is said to be the Avatar of Sheru and has come to begin the prophecy in earnest. Shortly afterwards, everyone was expelled from the shrine and the castle was overrun both inside and outside on the grounds by demons and other horrifying creatures. This lasted for several weeks until a way to weaken the magic creating them was found by heroic adventurers.

The months that followed found several attacks upon the cities of Elanthia, with continued sacrifices, kidnappings, and appearances by the Avatar of Sheru. Producing allies, the Avatar has been seen with Naja, Champion of Luukos, and Carhn, Champion of V'Tull. There are rumors of Ivasian influence as well as Mularosian influence with their champions to be seen at some point in the future should the prophecy not be stopped. Though the tome, the Dark Requiem, has now been located and is in the hands of the adventurer's who oppose the prophecy, they have yet to translate its ancient dialect and it is so far, of no use to them.

OOC Note: I'm sure I've left out things, and I don't mean to slight anyone or anything, so if you'd like to add in something please feel free! This was just a general overview of the storyline thusfar and the major parts of its plot movement.

Update: The copy of the Dark Requiem has been delivered to Yuratlya, who has begun working on translating it with the assistance of various adventurers. Pip, the Herald of the prophecy, has succumbed to her torments and died.

Chapter 2:

A Year Beneath the Crimson Moon - REPORT

9/13/2011 11:09 PM CDT

As time has passed beneath the watchful and ever-present eye of the Crimson Moon, Elanthia has fallen into a dark routine. Reports are flooding in from all over of the activity of Lornon followers in and around all major cities with things such as prayer vigils, study groups, meetings, and open recruiting to join their cause. Fliers can be found in many cities, tacked to the gate posts openly, speaking of social events and prayer meetings. Shop owners report an increase in patrons who openly bear their religious symbols and robings, and citizens have reported that even young teenagers and children have been spotted walking openly with their parents, all clad in their Lornon trappings. This begs the question - Has Lornon become the new majority?

While no temples have been defiled, no Liabo prayer meetings have been disrupted, and no attacks are openly made against Liabo followers, the account of disappearances and sacrifices rise. Several locations of makeshift altars and shrines have been reported as well, some within the city walls, and some in the wilds. Darker, more sinister reports have come in from various cities of Lornon followers being found slaughtered at their sites of worship in what is rumored to be some type of vigilante effort to quell the rising of Lornon followers. Bodies have been found in groups, such as at meetings in the wilds, and in singular or in pairs, such as those found in a Wehnimer's Landing alley recently by an actor leaving the local Bard guild. "I couldn't believe all the blood that was on the ground. It had soaked in some, but there was too much for it to all soak in and it was puddled. Odd, though, there wasn't much of the body itself left. Just a few scraps of emerald cloth, a medallion and some ripped and torn body parts." stated the actor, who wished to be left unnamed for safety.

"While we don't stand behind vigilante acts, we understand the anger and fear of our citizens. We here in Wehnimer's have been through a great deal and many of our people have lost loved ones - in some cases, entire families - to these horrible acts of evil and violence. I would encourage any and all citizens who feel they want to help to join in the rebuilding of the city instead. We have many ways to help and I'm sure that the families affected by these tragedies would be greatly appreciative of whatever can be offered." stated WL official, Izaar on behalf of the Mayor and local government authorities.

As we near the end of the year, when the Crimson Moon would normally rise for just a few weeks as part of the season, we can't help but recall that it was this same time last year when we first laid eyes on this unusual phenomenon, not knowing what it would mean to us just months later. Who knows what is to come as Elanthia continues to be bathed in the bloody light, as the saga of the Crimson Moon continues.

~Elanthian Inquisitor, Dateline Leyan, day 14 of the month Imaerasta in the year 5111

An Afternoon Storm

09/14/2011 06:09 PM CDT

Her back ached more today than before. She paused in her packing, glancing outside of her cottage window as the smell of ozone filtered into her nostrils. She had gained partial sight, but many things were still very blurred and so she still relied upon her other senses the most. She could feel the increased wind and the darkened skies as they prepared for a storm. "I hope it concludes before the moon rises.." she thought to herself, remembering the last time it rained at night and how the empaths said the droplets looked like blood as they plinked on the ground. An involuntary shudder coursed through her aged frame and she shook it off, steeling herself as she turned to finish her packing. "You cannot let your emotions get involved. You know this is the one rule. Do as the path tells you to, nothing more and nothing less. Anything different will cause chaos and destruction in ways that I cannot comprehend otherwise. Just. Follow. The. Path." Her resolve back in place, she closed her bag and tucked the note she'd received from a grubby little child a few days ago. She was glad that they understood her purpose finally, and would allow her to do her job. She expected some resistence, and would meet it with the same resolve of before. She could not do anything else, as it was their decisions that shaped the events unfolding.

A knock came at the door, and she pulled herself from her thoughts, walking over and squinting to make out the form of the driver. Once assured that was who it was, she opened the door and nodded as the driver said, "Seer, its time to go. A storm is coming." Reaching behind her to grab her bag, she cringed a little as her muscles protested weakly. "Here, let me get that. You're still recovering from the poison and we've a long ride ahead of us." Hoisting the bag into the back of the carriage, the driver helped the seer into her seat and climbed into his, cracking a whip to set the horses to moving. Ahead, a crack of lightning forked through the dark, rain-filled clouds and it began to rain lightly just as they took off. The driver glanced up at the late afternoon skies and murmured to himself, "I hope it ends before the moon rises.." as the carriage disappeared down the trail to Wehnimer's Landing.

Preparations

09/15/2011 02:53 PM CDT

"Place it over in a pile with the others, please."

Nilandia pointed to the sacks of grain and the delivery man added a new addition to the growing heap. She murmured her thanks and pressed a few coins into his hand as he left. Sweeping her gaze over the accumulated foods, she smiled faintly. Almost all of the supplies had arrived and soon they could make the journey.

This trip would have to be taken soon if the food would help the people in need. Subarl, a village south of Ta'Vaalor, was afflicted with a disastrous famine. The cultists had taken advantage of the situation, promising food and relief to those who joined them. Averting hunger would bolster the people's resolve to resist the darkness. Or so she hoped.

Returning to the desk, Nilandia began to compose a series of messages to send to her many contacts. The more people who could help transport the food and contribute their own, the better. Several people had volunteered, including a storm mage to bring rains and help the failing crops. All that was left was to come together and make the journey. If all went well, she would be back in time for her other work to begin. She had just placed the seal on the last message and sent it for delivery when the next delivery arrived.

A Letter To The Combined Liabo Forces

09/16/2011 12:14 PM CDT

To All Who Seek to Protect the Innocent and Hold Back the Darkness:

We all stand strong in our Faiths and desires to what is right in the face of mounting aggression from the Loronites. Yet even as we strive to stand firm under this crimson moon we find ourselves often divided. Bickering over the proper course of action has become the norm and it cannot be allowed to continue if we hope to persevere. Our personal opinions, wants and egos must come second to the greater goal in this conflict. It is with this in mind that I propose a leader for our unified forces. While we all must have our say we need someone to ultimately make a final decision. From this point forward the Delcian, Ronan's Chosen, speaks for me as well. I will follow his lead on non-Military matters regarding the Crimson Moon and Lornonites. On matters of battle I defer as always to the ranking members of the Militia. I encourage others who would not hobble us due to their own pride to do the same.

By My Own Hand,

Brinret Ithillote Lord High Inquisitor Hand of the Huntress Militia Scouts

A Night of Preparations

09/18/2011 10:48 PM CDT

A subtle glow filled the area deep in the heart of the forest, where the foliage of trees is so dense as to block most of the moonlight from touching the ground. The nature of the glow is only perceived by those heavily skilled in the arts of weaving mana. Several trips are made back and forth by stealth, quiet steps and care not to disrupt the quiet of the darkest part of night as stacks of books, supplies and furniture is carried down a faint trail. She stood quietly, a deep cowl shadowing her face as she waited for the end of the deliveries. She was enjoying the peaceful darkness, free of the crimson influence that she normally felt in the deepest part of her bones. She knew it was not entirely gone, as just outside of the boughs of the ancient trees framing the area, the moon's bloody eye continued to stare down upon them. But at least here, amongst not only the protective wards, but the clustering forest as well, it seemed to be a distant thing. She also hoped it would put her aides at ease as well, for they were very tense and it was seeping into her with each meeting she had with them. "Follow your path, that is all that you must do." she repeated to herself once more, one of the many times she'd reminded herself over the past few days.

"Seer, the rooms are ready for you to inspect." came the quiet words, bringing her from her thoughts with a nod and a murmured word of thanks. She was lead down the trail and into the clearing, where the location was set up for her and her aides to handle their translation work. "I'd like two of the chairs placed just outside of the door, please. Oh, and place a sidecart there also for refreshments. I'm sure they will appreciate them." she noted as she took a somewhat blurry stock of the area. Quickly, her requests were accomodated as she wove her fingers together in an intricate fashion, causing a dome of pale blue light to entertwine with the blinding white sparkles already surrounding the building. After a moment, she exhaled, obviously tired from the use of such magic, and she observed the wards to ensure she had taken correct precautions. Once satisfied, she entered and made herself familiar with the surroundings. "Please place the texts over there in the corner, and be careful as some are older than you! And I'll have the quills, parchment and ink set up on the shelves." she directed as she walked from corner to corner, ensuring everything went into its proper place. "Watch those solvents! Put them on the other shelves, away from the books!" "Those tables can be spread apart, please, there will be three of us working in here at once so give us some space please." "Oh don't put that tome with the other, they don't even remotely pertain to one another!" "Watch it, you'll spill the ink! Set it to the side, please! Oh be careful!" "Yes, right there, that's perfect, thank you."

As the last of the supplies were in place, she let out a long breath and nodded to the remaining guards who took their places outside and left her alone to her thoughts. Tiredly, she made her way to one of the three tables and settled down on a chair, taking quill and ink and writing a note with cramping fingers. After completion, she duplicated the letter and sealed them both, addressing them to two of her chosen aides. She then wrote another to her supplier, sealing it as well, and finally she wrote two more to her chosen guards, sealing them with the last of her wax. She gathered the parchments, tucking them into her arm as she wandered into the back area of the building, where the quarters were located. She noted with some satisfaction that two beds had been brought in so that if one of the aides should need rest, it was provided. Reaching over to the pitcher of water, she poured herself a glass and drank long from it, then set it to the side and tucked her letters beneath her pillow. Next came her body as she climbed into the soft bed, her aged frame creaking with protest and tiredness. A snap of her fingers doused the magical flames inside the nearest lamp and she was bathed in darkness as rest finally came.

Outside, the contention of guards stood silently and stoicly at attention, their eyes fixed upon the clearing and above as they kept watch for any signs of disturbance. As the snap of the old seer's fingers extinguished the lamp, the subtly glowing trail also shimmered into darkness, revealed no more to the passerby.

Missions of Mercy

09/19/2011 07:55 PM CDT

The wagons' low drone echoed throughout the morning as a constant accompaniment to the travelers' steps. Some walked beside the carts to guard the cargo against bandits and other mischief, while others guided the animals pulling them to their destination. In the midst of it all wandered a young sylvan woman, endlessly checking on some detail or other. Weeks of preparation had come to fruition in a journey to bring food to a starving village south of Ta'Vaalor.

Thunder rumbled across the sky, drawing gazes upward. The sylvan cast a glance over to the dark elf sitting atop a pile of grain sacks, his arms lifted skyward. She smiled. The storm mage was starting early. She paused to check with the paladin traveling with the party, ensuring the food was kept fresh and unspoiled, before returning to her seat next to one of the drivers.

The village was silent as they entered. Children and adults stood and stared at the entering party, as if not able to believe what they were seeing. The carts circled in the village square and the travelers surrounded them. Now was the time of greatest danger, as hunger drives all people to desperation. Silence settled on the square for two heartbeats before chaos erupted, quenched only by the rains that had been so desperately needed.

.........

A caravan of empty wagons slowly returned to Ta'Vaalor with the exhausted party. The sylvan made sure to thank each traveler personally before she continued on to her apartment in Ta'Illistim. She arrived to find a stack of unread messages waiting for her and sighed. Then she saw the seal on the message at the top of the pile and she immediately picked it up.

"The work begins," she murmured. "And not a moment too soon."

Aiding the Landing

09/20/2011 11:38 PM CDT

Early in the evening, the townsfolk of the Landing were heard to report that jackals were circling the city. The defenders gathered to fight off the threat, but were surprised to see that the jackals were weak and not very numerous. Sheruvian cultists were also observed. Chanting was heard, particularly from the southern end of Lower Dragonsclaw, and a jackal-headed totem was discovered.

Ivasian cultists joined the Sheruvians as the defenders began to work on destroying the totem. Only sorcerers' disintegrate had any effect, and interfering with the totem resulted in the person being poisoned, but it eventually was destroyed. The Ivasians vanished, but the Sheruvians persisted and drew attention away from the Landing. Eventually, a figure was seen in the sky that appeared to be controlling the cultists, and with a few gestures from the figure, the cultists vanished. (It's possible that it was Azorlok, though it wasn't explicitly stated.)

Soon after things quieted down, it was noticed that some places around the Landing had been defaced. The statue in the park, the bank and the Thrak inn had all been vandalized with Lornonite graffiti. The tent in the park had also been painted and pushed over enough that it could not be entered. The food from the cart in the park had been tossed aside and spoiled, while the cart was carved with the message, "For those in need, find solace in the shadows!"

A group of people gathered to try to clean up the graffiti, and after some trial and error, most was removed. The cart and tent were deemed not able to be saved, but the statue, bank and inn were all cleaned. As they were working, Myke gathered signatures of support for his petition to rebuild and strengthen Shanty Town. It was also heard that the cultists had broken into a supply of weapons and armor to steal most of what was stored. They had also poisoned the well's water supply and had disrupted the supply of healing herbs.

It is suspected by some that the cultists are attempting to remove the Landing's ability to support and defend itself, but plans are in motion to counteract what has been done.

- A discarded glass vial of what is suspected to be the poison introduced into the water supply was recovered and is being studied to create an antidote. - Water is being distilled to supply the people in the meantime. - Empaths are being contacted in the guild to grow herbs. - Herbalists in other cities are being contacted to ship the potion herbs to the Landing. - Forgers are requested to begin making weapons to replace the stock that was lost. - Armorers in other cities are being contacted to ship new sets of armor to the Landing. - The merchant's guild in the Landing is being contacted for the name of a reputable contractor to replace the food cart and tent in the park.

It is suggested that all in the Landing keep a close watch of their surroundings in case that more attempts to sabotage the city are undertaken.

Dream a Little Dream

10/04/2011 07:38 PM CDT

Flickering light broke through the darkness, causing her eyes to tighten with the futility of blocking it. "Yuratlya." came the woman's voice, "Yuratlya." again - this time more firmly. "Yuratlya, do you hear me?" came the voice again, persistently invading the cocoon of her unconscious. An inner groan rumbled through her mind as her bones ached in the process of sitting up. "Yes, yes, I'm up.." she grumbled, and managed to squint against the brightness of day enough to see the outline of the empath. "How long have I been out?" "Two days, seer. We were very worried but the clerics have been praying over you vigilantly."

Two days. Her mind ached with the sudden influx of memories as she sat up fully. Nightmares. Visions of fire and flame, of smoke and destruction. Death. The screams of the damned filled her with fear as she remembered the sound and their agonized visages. A shiver ran through her and she felt weakened, almost toppling but for the attention of the empath. "Seer!" the girl exclaimed, and then called out for another to come and help the elderly woman. A guard stepped in, eyes falling upon the old gnome with a friendly and concerned expression. "Seer, you are awake. It is good to see. I will fetch the clerics." and then he was gone before Yuratlya could even bother to nod in response. She felt sick to her stomach and had to swallow down the bile before it rose up from within.

"The visions..." she murmured, and the voice of a cleric repeated her statement as he entered the room. "Yes, the visions. You have been out for two days, seer, plagued with nightmarish visions. We have worked hard over you while you slept, if that is even the right word to describe your torment." He walked over and placed a gentle hand on her frail shoulder, smiling finally as he said "You are very strong, you know. I am positive you are looked over and are meant to stay. But it was touch and go for a bit. That book.." he trailed off, glancing at a locked box guarded by two well-armed clerics in the corner of the room.

The book! She remembered now. The book had taken its toll on her and when she'd been moved to avoid the invasion of Luukosians, she had fallen to its curse. "I've been foolish." she scolded herself inwardly, angry that she had not taken the proper precautions in the effort to translate. She turned her attention to the cleric, who was holding out a pair of gloves to her and speaking quietly. "These have been worked over by all of the most powerful clerics in this area and we have faith it will help you when dealing with the text. You must take breaks, however, Yuratlya. You cannot work on this text as often as you have been and expect not to feel its wrath." She accepted the gloves, glancing at the way the fabric shimmered subtly as she turned them over in her hands. A frown crossed her face and she nodded. She did not want to wait to translate the text, it was so important for them to know of what they faced. Yet, she could not deny the truth in the cleric's words - she was falling to the curse and the only way to prevent it was to space out her time with the book.

"Very well, you have my word that I will take breaks." she acquiesced. "And.. you'l use the gloves." the cleric added, prompting a nod from Yuratlya once more. "Good. Now take a day to rest, and then you can travel back tomorrow once you are looked over." he continued, and then turned to give instructions to the empath as to Yuratlya's care for the remainder of the day. "I'll be back to see you tomorrow, seer. Rest please." he said as he exited the room, and she was ushered back to bed by the empath, who eased her head to the pillow and placed a cool rag on her brow. Yes..rest.. she thought to herself as her eyes fluttered shut, the gloves still clutched in her small hand.

Translation Begins and Luukosian Attack

10/06/2011 04:54 PM CDT

The seer Yuratlya has been working with her assistants on translating the Dark Requiem for the past few weeks.

The meetings with the seer proceeded quietly the first week, though she began to show signs of fatigue and illness on the second week. She begged time to rest on the 27th, which was readily given. The next meeting, on the 29th, went quite poorly. A guard arrived in the park and notified all present that Luukosians had located where the work was being conducted and flooded the area. The seer had been spirited away unharmed, but the Luukosians had erected a shrine in the area. The guard requested help in purging the location.

After everyone was prepared, Hraus led the group to the location, and they were met by various Luukosians as well as snakes, worms and other sorts of creatures. They appeared to be led by a cultist who was involved in the kidnapping of Myriamie June 28th (named Abran but I don't believe the name is known), who claimed that those present would serve Luukos that night. Myke killed the cultist twice and fogged him to the Voln monastery, though it seemed to have no effect. Instead, he spoke Luukos' blessing on several people.

Instead, all those present dropped one by one to the Luukosians save Caden and Nilandia. As much gear was collected as possible and the dead were returned to the Landing to begin healing and raising them. Requests for help resulted in the arrival of two priests of Lorminstra who likewise did not give their names, but appeared in game as Aldrik and Pyali. They assisted with the dead as they could, and Aldrik also cleansed Luukos' influence from almost all who had received it. Pyali then told those gathered that many trials lay ahead, but emphasized the need for coming together in a unified effort. They departed, but pledged continued assistance should it be needed. The night remained quiet after that.

The seer remained resting after the attack until last night, October 5th, when she arrived in the park to meet with those who had volunteered to assist her. She recounted her her work with the text had taken its toll on her and left her vulnerable to Sheru's influence. Indeed, she had been unconscious for two straight days, afflicted with nightmarish visions until the priests attending her had managed to dispel them. They had also provided her with a pair of gloves to lessen the hold the tome had over her. Reluctantly, she had assented to their demands that she rest and take food and drink.

After some confusion to whom would follow her, she retired with her assistants to resume the translation work, which continued with few troubles within. A few difficulties were noted outside, but not enough to disrupt the translation work.

Creepy Lornonites

11/09/2011 08:47 AM CST

Last night while Mithogras, Ephelysse and Delcian were in the Rivers Rest commons they began seeing movement in the shadows, each one started to see different things. Delcian heard a mocking laughter in his heard and then the scars on his face begaun to hurt.

Ephelysse and Mithogras saw the other with an odd look in their eyes.

A chilling laughter filled the air before a shadowy winged figure was seen in the air.

The Crimson Runs Freely

11/09/2011 05:55 PM CST

After weeks of quiet, with only the occasional skirmish or disappearance to report, citizens all over Elanthia are now reporting concerns over an increase in creature activity. From various places about the continent, citizens are being attacked by packs of roaming creatures, many of which incidents have resulted in injuries and sometimes death. The attacks appear to be random in nature, happening in both daytime and nighttime hours, against young and old travellers alike. In many cases, the packs of creatures attack a group of two or less travelling outside of city limits, and then dissipate afterwards without further issue. Travellers are asked to be cautious while making their way in the wilds as the dangers continue to rise.

In other news, a breakout of what can only be described as mass mental disturbances has been reported from various cities as well. Several citizens report having seen visions of horrifying magnitude, both in the environment and in other people. These attacks of mental disturbance seem to happen only in the evening, and are also random in nature as they attack. Authorities are looking into what might be causing this and have considered the tainted water supply found in Wehnimer's Landing as a possible catalyst. Testing will be undergoing over the next few weeks in an effort to find a solution.

~Elanthian Inquisitor

Darkness Returns

11/10/2011 08:08 PM CST

On the evening of November 8, people experienced a series of strange experiences. As Delcian mentioned, some people saw activity with the shadows, or a winged creature in the air. Others heard laughter, or had their skin feel like it was on fire.

In the park, Nilandia sensed an entity of such overwhelming malice that it sent her reeling. Soon after, Seremela appeared to be overcome by terror and went rigid. Her eyes became black and a deep, cold voice spoke through her. The voice first began taunting Nilandia, but moved to other people. The voice targeted Shilarra, claiming that she had served 'us' so well and that her deeds were of 'Me' and not of Imaera. It also stated that the seer (understood to be Yuratlya) trusted Fjalar, but wondered if Yuratlya knew about Fjalar's wife Sadan.

Over time, Nilandia told the entity to leave Seremela so they could speak directly and Shilarra spoke rather belligerently to it. The voice responded by threatening harm to Seremela. Shilarra persisted, and Seremela's throat constricted so she began to choke. Nilandia was thrown to the ground when she attempted to help Seremela, who succumbed to death soon after. Seremela herself returned upon her death, but seemed to have no knowledge of what had happened. The night was calm after that.

The evening of November 9 brought attacks upon a few people in various places.

A man named Uckle was outside the Landing when he noticed a bloody mist following him as he moved. It tripped him just outside the gate, and he made his way to the park. He found a hiding place, but the other people there noticed the mist dissipating from the shadows where he hid.

Hraus was hunting near River's Rest when he heard scraping sounds. They were accompanied by an overpowering stench and the sound of undead creatures moaning as they crawled out of the ground. He was then attacked by undead men and women either missing eyes or with crimson eyes. They were noticed at one point to pause and face the crimson moon, but they continued to attack as more people arrived. A chill wind blew during the attacks, but it ceased as the attack died down.

Soon afterward, however, Kalyse was hunting arch wights on the Plains of Bone near Ta'Vaalor when the ground shook and she fell. Wolves and wolfshades appeared soon after, which she was able to handle easily. The creatures grew stronger, however, including rotting warriors and a shaman corpse, until she was wounded and forced to fall back. Other people arrived soon after, but the creatures soon vanished.

Ukon likewise reported troubles on the coastal cliffs and a similar attack was observed near the mausoleum and the wrecked village. Others arrived to assist and the attacks dissipated soon after.

Crops Diminishing, Supplies found Ransacked

11/12/2011 08:28 PM CST

Reports of vanquished crops, fallen to disease and victims of pests, are coming in from all over Elanthia. Many farmers are concerned about their ability to maintain throughout the cold winter season as their crops fall one by one to mysterious infestations and what appears to be poisoning of the roots. Local shops are unable to stock supplies for sale as before, and prices are rising rapidly, making it more difficult for the commoner to purchase the necessities. Some shop owners have resorted to using the adventurer's guilds around Elanith in order to replenish supplies with crops grown wild as the focus seems to be on the cultivated crops instead.

During this all, invasions of creatures are on the uprise and travelers continue to run into danger outside of city limits. The Empath's Guild is reporting an amassing of healers that are skilled in growing herbs so that help can be given to the wounded who would otherwise suffer without the much needed plants. The supply is stretched thin, however, as even the stores of the local militias are being found and vanquished by some unknown means, leaving everyone in great need of replenishments. Thankfully, the water supplies have not been reported as of yet as tainted, but this reporter believes it is only a matter of time given the trend of things over the last week.

More as it comes in.

~The Elanthian Inquisitor

...and the Roltons Did Swarm

11/18/2011 12:04 AM CST

A short time later..

Trudging to the south-eastern corner of the town square, Myke released a loud grunt as he dropped several more rolton carcasses off outside of the general store and called inside, "Megorn, I'd say we'll need another couple of salt barrels. I'll go grab Dakris before he leaves for the night, I'm sure he'll have no problem lending a hand butchering these roltons. I'll add the meat to the stockpiles."

Pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow he mumbled off-handedly, "Great idea, Philnia."

The Impending Frost

11/19/2011 04:40 PM CST

A lot had happened while he was away, and from what he could tell not a whole lot of it was good. The rifts seemed wider, opinions more varied, and the opposition to the Lornon threat appeared to be wavering. He couldn't blame them. The tactics that were being applied were textbook. Jaired idly scratched the tips of his fingers into the dark stubble under his chin, his eyes intent as they studied the documents and maps scattered across the table. It was time to finally settle back in as the Marshal. He'd blown a few of the surrounding sconces out to put the Keep's library in a dimmer light. The dark always helped him think. There wasn't enough food to feed them all, and the placement of the Minotaur's forces were perfect to maintain a blockade by land, and a blockade by sea seemed the next logical step. It was going to be a very long winter. Sure, they could find other ways to survive and live off of the land... but for how long? There were too many. The prophecy had given him an uneasy sense of inevitability.

His first thought was to simply go underground. The writing was on the wall. When winter came and all of the food was gone, and all of the water was spoiled... those that had not already given in to desperation would seek salvation wherever they could find it. Those loyal to the Crimson Moon would be ready to offer it. In time, anybody still opposing them would be seen as the enemy. If they'd just stop fighting and give in, everything would be fine. Those that fought would be blamed for the actions of other men, and the thirsty and the dying would believe it all. He'd be targeted along with anyone beside him, made out as villains... and summarily dealt with. And everything would be fine... for a time. Until the last ounce of resistance had been squelched or relegated into mere insignificance. Then everything would change and the true intentions would be made clear. This part was textbook as well.

If they went underground and worked in secrecy, he could avoid much of that... but only for so long. Eventually they'd just be painted in the same light and rooted out. Although... it did give him an idea. His hands brushed aside a few worthless documents until he pulled free a rough map of the catacombs and set it beside a more detailed map of the Landing. One stockpile would be reckless. They'd need many. They'd even need some that they'd be willing to sacrifice. He quickly snagged up his quill and began sketching out various key locations that would be most suitable. He'd need someone to look for alternate springs of water as well. Then he began writing out various proposals to present to the town Officials, as well as to various guild leaders. Stockpiles would need guarding, supplies would need smuggling, spoiling food and water would need purifying, new resources would need scouting, and herbs would need growing. There were many roles that needed to be filled.

He had to account for spies. He was counting on it. They'd endure as long as they could. He even began flirting with the idea that they may succeed, but that was not what he was planning for anymore. Many would suffer, many would die, and eventually... they may very well fall. He grinned a bit in spite of himself as he dropped the quill to the table to give his ink-stained knuckles a well deserved crack. At least they'd go out trying, or at least that is what they'd make it look like. The prophecy was what it was, but if someone knows where a stone is going to fall, it doesn't mean they have to catch it. He'd spent enough time planning for the inevitable. It was time to start planning for what came after.

Where to start...

Organization

11/20/2011 02:57 PM CST

He leaned back, half-seated atop a ramshackle pile of crates at the edge of Shanty Town with a hand fishing into the ornate eonake tome case on his hip and fished out a pair of parchment rolls. Unfurling them in his hands, no sooner had he set about starting to peruse them when he heard the creak of cart wheels and the local teens he'd grown so used to employing arrived with the small cart full of supplies.

"Ah, I'm glad you kids are here. Good to see you Bolivar," he inclined his head to each of them in turn, "Yand, Teress." The trio were eager to help, and followed adventurers passing through the area about with that perpetual gaze of admiration and envy.

"We got the extra wood and barrels you wanted, Lord Myke!" Teress and Bolivar spoke over one another, both eagerly declaring the same sentiment in so many words. Yand was already eagerly unloading them beside the small cart. He looked over and saw the papers Myke seemed to be looking over and inquisitively probed, "What's that? More supply lists?"

"Mm? Oh, no, Yand. One page is mostly scribbles, so I can keep track of the supplies we've gathered so far. Not encoded per se, but just something to jog my memory and help me recall what we've gathered so far. We've got the barrels for Laethia's garden idea, we just need to halve them and set them aside for when we fix up the homes, Mayor permitting. Then we've got the food stores.. rolton meat, crops, and some other notes."

"Oleha had a great idea to supplement the foodstores, we've no shortage of water, so I want to run with her idea and get some crude fishing poles made and passed out. Folks can fish steadily, even in winter, and we can pack the fish in salt to preserve them longer." Slipping a small piece of charcoal from his cuff, he made a few marks on the page as if to make a note of that.

"What is the other page, sir?" Teress timidly made her way closer, hands folded behind her back and long slender neck craned to peer towards the pages in his hands. He shuffled the first page behind the second and looked it over with features hardening into a look of concentration.

"Well, the second pertains to matters a bit less easy to manage. We've got the town to consider, but this overall problem extends far beyond it and we can't just wait and react to everything that unfolds. They're going to find new ways to make life hard for us and we need to anticipate it. We need everyone willing lending aid and feeling like their beliefs and views are respected. Someone not long ago told me, you have to lead people the way they need to be led. You can't just bark orders and expect people to care. Right now.. I'm just trying to find the people who will answer the call to help win this war for balance. Then, we need to make sure everyone is being used properly, and to their satisfaction. After that, we put it all into action and see if we can't turn the tide."

He sighed slightly. He knew he was reading off steps he might never come close to actually bringing to life, but the logic was sound. He'd learned a great deal in that capacity, growing as a leader, but a leader he was not yet. May never be. But people had to remain unified, and he had to do what he could at every turn to win this war. Too many people would suffer far worse if they failed, and anything less than his all was a failure of commitment. He had faith they would succeed, he needed to make others believe.

"We need to gather the people who want to make a difference, and give others reason to believe a difference will be made. That a difference IS being made. We can't force people to care, to help, or to believe.. but we can do what we feel we must and hope the example gives them reason to believe of their own accord."

At this point, his awareness of the trio's presence seemed to dim, he was speaking almost to himself. Reassuring himself perhaps? Repeating for clarity? Who knew. His thoughts were clearly burdened by the matter, "We have to lead, not push."

But would anyone rally? Would they all just straggle about doing what they felt they had to separately? There were still issues lingering in the pit of his stomach. So much to do, and it felt like they had so few resources..

Resources. "Hmmm." He stood, pushing the pages away into his case and closing the lid. "You kids keep unloading, I need to look into something."

And with that he was off. But to where?

Dilemma

11/21/2011 03:43 AM CST

Lydanis felt the guard's pulse - weak and erratic but persistent. Though taciturn and grudging in his respect towards a Master of the Order who openly wore the symbol of his devotion to the Lord of the Hunt, the fellow was known to be reliable and Lydanis doubted that simple intoxication was the cause of his unconscious state; there was a strong odour of cheap brandy about him, but a cursory examination had shown that it rose from his clothing and was not detectable on his breath.

Rolling up his cloak as a makeshift pillow, Lydanis made the guard as comfortable as he might and was setting off to find one of the monks to aid when something in the thick vegetation near the moat caught his eye. It was a small glass vial, intact and filled with a clear, viscous fluid. He picked it up carefully in a gloved hand and stowed it in his belt-pouch for later examination.

Some hours afterwards, in River's Rest, he handed over the vial to Lord Mithogras. It was unfortunate that the Lady Ephelysse was unavailable, since neither her father nor her daughter fully trusted Lydanis. They had justification, to be sure - he had caused them considerable trouble in the past - but he would sooner have confided his discovery to the Lady herself. To his sorrow, even the Daughter of Andelas who companioned Laethia treated Lydanis with gruff disdain.

Still, with the exception of the grumbling Shadow, they listened with guarded courtesy as he told of the morning's events and of the batch of bad bread that the Monastery's cook had blamed on the local miller. It was true that the consignment of flour most recently delivered had a greyish colour and a musty smell, so much so that Lydanis had queried the cook's judgment in using it. Questioned by the Grand Master himself, the man had reluctantly owned that on the morning in question, he had overslept and the dough for the day's bread had been prepared by an apprentice. Further questioning revealed that the apprentice had not been seen since that morning.

Feeling that the good monks had been sufficiently alarmed for their present safety, Lydanis had privately decided that the vial in his belt-pouch need not be produced to trouble them further, at least until expert assessment had confirmed its nature.

Lord Mithogras agreed that he would pass the vial to his daughter for detailed analysis, though concurring with the assessment Lydanis himself had made, that it was some form of concentrated toxin. He went on to inform Lydanis of much that he had missed in his travels to Ta' Nalfein on Temple business; the recent spate of poisoning of foodstuffs and water around the Landing and Solhaven, and the rising fear that the Crimson Moon's adherents meant to starve the citizenry into submission.

He and Laethia even suggested that Lydanis might find it advisable in these times to be less open about his own affiliation, since many would assume that a servant of any Immortal but those of Liabo was aligned with the enemy.

Clearly, no self-respecting Paladin would lightly discard the symbol of his Patron. Still, mused Lydanis as he made his way back from River's Rest to the Temple at Solhaven, it would not be a simple matter to persuade those who stood against the Crimson of his good faith should he offer his aid in purifying water and foodstuffs, or in guarding supplies against contamination by stealth. Surely, there must be some way in which he could help - but would he be given a chance, or would he simply find himself staring at the walls of a cell until someone decided that it was not worth feeding a suspect?

Getting the Ball Rolling

11/21/2011 06:43 PM CST

Myke was busy this morning, in particular he was currently at the herbalist's in Wehnimers.

"Alright, here are the copies of the notice, Syiah. If you could get one to the heads of the Empath Guild it'd be great. I talked to some of the local healers, but we need to make sure that we've got a steady source of herb production incase any stores get destroyed. With any luck they can commit the guild to stockpiling and guarding some large stores. Talk to Surtey and see if he has any thoughts on things, if you would. Stay safe, too. If you catch wind of any more cultists hassling the other shop keepers just send word and I'll do what I can."

With a wave he was off, moving through the busy morning streets with a distant look plastered over his face. His thoughts were in a million places at once, and it was only a dim awareness of the tension in his face that made him realize he probably looked a bit angry. He had a tendency to have a natural scowl that formed when he was focused, and when you are a massive heavily-armored giantkin toting a flaming black claidhmore over one shoulder, that's not always the best for reassuring the townsfolk. Trying to shake it off he smiled a bit at a passing family, but the moment of detachment from the gravity of the situation was enough to remind him of just who would suffer if they all failed. He turned down the nearest street, Stormarm. Stepping aside into the back alley of Helga's he reached up and pulled off his visor.

It all seemed to crash in at once. A bead of sweat formed at his brow, and while a voice in the back of his head calmly stated 'All will be well', a torrent of thoughts washed over him. Were they taking the proper steps? Were they doing enough? Was he making sure enough people understood what was taking place? Had he forgotten anything? ...The pressure he fought off with confidence and faith was closing in. His hand instinctively lifted to his chest and found the small white shield amulet there. His thumb rubbed over it, and a faint corona of white light blossomed around its edges.

"They will be fine. We will protect them.."

The crippling anticipation began to fade. He knew he had a habit of attempting too much, too quickly. There were allies now. Their numbers were growing. He was taking the Seer and Hanos' words to heart. Rhyssa had taught him to choose his words more carefully, and not push..

It was as he told the others.. if they set the right example, others would follow.

All would be well.

Sliding his visor back into place, a relieved sigh escaped his burdened chest and his posture straightened.

"Stay focused," he muttered to himself, "There is more work to do. It's time to find more help."

Calling a Meeting

11/22/2011 04:37 PM CST

After a series of discussions, several adventurers are calling for all to gather in the meeting hall of the Militia Keep, the evening of the 27th at nine in the evening. All are encouraged to attend to help coordinate relief efforts for the crop failures and anticipated upcoming famine.

Lighting Candles

11/27/2011 04:33 PM CST

A single night away, toiling as he had been. A single night away and he felt as if he had let his home down. All of his efforts felt momentarily inconsequential, even with the dim lingering knowledge that his presence would likely not have changed anything. He stood side the weatherworn grey marble statue of Rone Wehnimer and surveyed the park.. the rosebush Aurorah had made blush so long ago decaying to the west in the niche. The ground befouled. The knowledge it would happen made it no easier to stomach. Word had only just reached him of Dyhne's passing, and rumor of Azorlok's presence the prior eve.

It was hard to know just what to feel. Rage? Was it worth keeping his temper in the face of such infuriating adversity? Depression? Could he even hold fast to the hope that all would turn out for the best? The odds had grown so steep that they felt like less than a mouse cornered by a cat. It felt as if they were little more than a flickering candle seated at the core of an eternal and endless void. It simply waited for the wick to burn down. A flicker, a puff.. and they would be gone. The consideration sat cold in his chest and for only a moment his eyes grew distant.

A flicker of movement drew his attention. It was not there in the park, but distant. It was to the east, and it danced not within the gaze of his stormy blue right eye, but the paled gaze of his left. Insubstantial and hazy, the world faded pale as the colors bled. The spiritual realm lay before his gaze and there beneath the temple was the flickering light of a trapped soul. A lesser shade beneath the temple.

In the moment he found himself walking the streets of the town until he stood before the shade, there in the catacombs beneath the temple. As the rather pathetic little undead swung out at him mindlessly with that rusted short sword, he stepped aside and drew a glowing symbol in the air. There upon the stair he watched as a white glow seperated itself from the lesser shade's body and rose, accompanied by the sound of joyful weeping.

It was just that simple. There was no emotion to revel in. If all there were was a candle, then their job was to shed light as best they could in the time afforded to do so. Turning, he ascended back into the Temple proper and made his way back through town. He paused to hand a passing runner a letter produced from within his tabard and a brief instruction to deliver it to the Mayor. A few coins exchanged hands and he was moving once more. It was not until he reached the town square's center that he stopped to look around. In just a few hours their intended gathering would take place. They had known this day would come, they had known the darkness would close in.

It was time to light the candles.

Renewed Resolve - Warning the People 11/30/2011 12:12 AM CST

A bundle of wide wooden planks under his arm, his hammering could be heard late into the night. They weren't much, but it was a start. His incessant hammering finished, he left the well and made for shanty town.

He prepared the boards as he moved, stuffing one halfway into his tabard at an awkward angle and clasping one between his hands and looking it over. He grimaced slightly at his hand-writing. It wasn't terrible, but it was certainly not the most even or well-made sign. He set about hanging the signs around his adopted corner of town.

One sign read: "Warning: Town Water Tainted. Seek Distilled Sources. Help is here."

Another depicted the town well with an arrow to the water and a skull and crossbones over it.

Yet another read: "Warning: Lornon Plague Spreading. Food and Water Tainted. Help is coming to provide from stores. - Lord Myke"

Finally, a sign with less of a warning and more a reminder, "Unite. This is our home. Strength in Community."

The last of his signs hung for the time being, he sat down outside of a nearby hut. The second his posture slouched he felt the fatigue and weight he had been struggling against crash against him. His eyes closed and he dozed off almost immediately there in the slums of the town. Sometimes, Ronan was a truly merciful ally. Just a few moments rest.. There was more work to be done. For now, he felt he needed to be here.

Costs

11/30/2011 03:53 PM CST

"A typical meal from the grocer runs about 160 silvers. A drink at Helga's to unwind runs about 250 silvers. A night at Frith's Inn only runs about 200 silvers. That, plus a few hundred in incentive could round out to an even thousand coins a day in pay for each additional guard. Putting a pair for day and night watch at both gates and three two-man patrols around town, that comes out to twenty thousand a day in guard fees. To get us through the winter months, that comes out to 1 million and 8 hundred thousand coins for guards alone."

He set aside a few slips of paper and eyed another.

"A heavy slab of steel runs for 150 silvers, and paying the blacksmiths for their time fashioning the fittings and nails to reinforce the gates won't be cheap either. Then we'll need to pay a labor force, which won't be cheap since we'll need additional guard to protect them while they work outside the walls. Even if it's just a few extra hands to keep the roltons and kobolds at bay, it won't be cheap. We'll need the work done quickly as well. The longer it takes the more open we are to sabotage or winter setting in too heavily. This will cost us another million and a half easily. We'll need almost four million to get this all underway and have breathing room for set-backs. Thankfully I think I know a few people who can help raise that money."

He tucked the papers back into the case at his hip and peered out around shanty town from his seat atop a metal-framed crate just barely intact well enough to support his bulk, both his colossal size and heavy armor. "Well, we have workers here in need of a way to line their pockets and feed their families... but they need to be trained. Teaching them to hold a sword rightside-up and cut down a rat or a kobold shouldn't be too hard. We just need to get some folks out here to do it."

Scratching his chin he sat back slightly, still assessing his surroundings. "Some bins for clothing donations, it's getting colder. A bin for donations of wood, stone, and metal.. construction materials so we can keep repairing and reinforcing homes. Maybe another bin for donations of weapons, some steel to arm themselves with. No, this isn't a town of sheep. These people are capable. We just need to make them realize it."

With a satisfied nod he rose to his feet. A passing child looked up at him with a small wave, pausing long enough for him to cram a heavy gauntlet-clad hand into the case at his hip and pull out a red and white peppermint stick and hand it his way. A pat on the head that gave the child's brain a bit of a rattle, and he was wandering off from his adopted corner of town.

Azorlok Appears, Dyhne Killed, Two Meetings, and Collections Begin

11/30/2011 10:20 PM CST

On the evening of November 26, plants around the Landing began to wither, including those in the park and the niche nearby. Animals likewise began to show signs of disease and died, while some stocks of food and supplies were found defaced and covered with writing to encourage others to join the darkness. Azorlok also appeared to taunt the various people there, and hinted that the blight was magical in nature. At that point, the people who informed me of what happened had to leave, and I don't know what happened after.

Later that night, Dyhne and his son Gioh appeared in Monsoon Jungle outside the town of Mist Harbor on Four Winds Isle. They had purchased Gostahl's wagon to carry their wares, but the wagon's wheel had broken, preventing them from getting to the town. After showing the people around and mentioning carrying ingots of rare metals such as adamantine and kroderine, Dyhne left to gather supplies. His death was sensed soon after. His corpse was found nearby, which soon decayed.

A search was taken up to find the killers, who were found to yell jubilantly that they had taken the stash of metal ingots. It was then assumed that the wheel had been broken to get Dyhne in the open so he could be killed for the ingots. After the people had killed a series of bandits, Brunhilde learned in a vision that the metal had been taken from the island and was now in possession of the Sheruvians. The people returned to the wagon, and Reddas arrived. He repaired the broken wheel, allowing Gioh to make it into Mist Harbor. He then left to be on his own.

The evening of November 27, a meeting was called to help coordinate relief efforts with the upcoming famine and food shortages. As ideas were being discussed, an orphan named Mecrion arrived and reported that his sister, Laena, had gone missing. She had drunk the tainted well water and become sick, and he had last seen her making her way to the bath house (which had also been closed for tainted water) to try to get some relief.

After some amount of searching, Laena was found on South Ring Road, gravely ill and feverish. Several people attended to her, using snow to cool her and Aldoran healing gems to give her relief. She was brought to Voln and taken to the purifying spring, where she showed signs of recovery. A cluster of monks left the monastery and said blessings over her, where she regained enough strength to regain consciousness. She appeared to be recovering well and thanked everyone for their help.

One of the monks offered Laena a place to stay in the monastery for her and her brother. Laena mentioned that he liked to be in the tunnels under the Landing, and a quick search found him. He was brought to the monastery, where he went to join his sister inside.

On the evening of November 29, another meeting was taken up to try to continue the work on coordinating relief efforts. This time, the merchant Lectoria joined the meeting and pointed out some ideas to be considered.

Some of the ideas discussed that people may do to help include foraging for food and other supplies from the wilds, distilling water if one is skilled enough in alchemy, paladins purifying food and water, empaths growing herbs to resupply those which had been lost, weapon users guarding travelers or supply stores, educating the people on techniques so they can provide for themselves, and many more. Calls for an organization to the relief met with little success, however.

As the meeting drew to a close, the seer Yuratlya was heard on the amulet, and several people joined her in the park. She spoke for a time, and mentioned that the falling snow appeared to be free of the crimson moon's influence. She also discussed an incident in which a woman had cured her daughter of a blight-related illness by laying her on the forest floor so the snow covered her. Some expressed hope that such a phenomenon might be replicated, and offer an alternative to use of springs at Voln monasteries for healing the sick. When asked about the effort to translate the Dark Requiem, she said that the text after that which had already been worked on was too far damaged to be worked with, and she had gained little else from it.

Yuratlya then went on to hint that much of what had taken place regarding the crimson moon had been brought about because the collective will of the cultists had been so strong. It is unclear if she merely meant that they had been able to work together to bring it about, or that their will itself had made their desires a reality. Nevertheless, she indicated that those who oppose the cultists are capable of the same, if they but work together.

During Yuratlya's visit, she chastized Myke as she regarded his desire to gain recognition overpowering his desire to help others as motivation for his work in Shanty Town. Myke grew upset with her words, threw his sword to the ground, and was heard to say he would then no longer provide aid for others. After a lengthy private conversation between the two, however, they appeared to have mended their differences.

Afterward, she stayed in the park for a time, counseling others. She mentioned that there were three Avatars that the cultists sought to wake, of which Azorlok is only the first. Needless to say, if all three would be found and awoken, very bad things would happen. She also said that the blight itself cannot be stopped, and all that is left to do is to endure it. She then departed for the evening, leaving the others to talk amongst themselves.

On the evening of November 30, Myke asked for people to meet in him the park. After a small group had joined him, he took them down to Shanty Town. There, several bins had been set up to receive donations to help supply the people. Several signs had also been erected to warn the people of the dangers of the well water, building supplies were being collected, and holes in a wall had been barricaded by fence to prevent people from falling into the river. Myke also spoke of a hope to hold events to benefit the Landing as a whole.

Though it was not pointed out, it was noticed that much of the plantlife in the area had been stricken with the blight. The petition Myke had requested on beginning an aid program for Shanty Town has also been removed from Moot Hall.

Attempted Translation of the Dark Requiem

01/28/2012 11:37 PM CST

This is an attempt at a translation of the Dark Requiem as provided by the seer Yuratlya.

Bear in mind that the translation will not be perfect, and meaning will likely be altered in certain places as words will not exactly align. This is also an ancient and religious text written from Sheru's perspective. Some of its phrasing or syntax will likely not make sense. At other times, portions of the text may be missing.

Words in brackets either describe the original text, or offer some interpretation of the translation. A synopsis and a few comments on the text will follow the translation.

Introduction

[Symbols of the darkness of nothing and an explosion of matter. Suggestion holds that it depicts the creation of Elanith. Symbols follow including light, shadow and life. Death follows behind. Given interpretation as follows.] The world flickered, and came into existence. In all things, balance was created - shadow by day, and life by death.

[Symbols of the Arkati gathered separately, each as if in choosing. One in particular is turned towards a jackal. Assumption is that it represents Sheru.] In the Time of Choosing [significance as yet unknown], the lesser races sprung forth, and the lives of men began to rise. In this, the balance began to unravel, for life must always be balanced by death. The Others of Us [perhaps the Liabo Arkati] wept, and saw images of Themselves in these people... but a Jackal is no man.

Since the day of tears [also of unknown significance], I brought forth My image and influence, and infused it into chosen Men. We called them Avatars. [Appears other Arkati also created Avatars] It has been known to Us that one day, balance would require action. Others were not and did not enact. In this, I am an outcast. I am Sheru, the Jackal.

Our Avatars grew strong, touched by Us and inspired to greatness. Even in this, balance was required. And so when the lives of Avatars grew too strong, they were sealed from Men. Balance was restored at the cost of all Avatars, sealed and forgotten. Power is not a candle's flicker, but a seed planted by Us. The symbols of worship, power and men [...] Many of Us felt loss as Our influence was sealed, but the prayers of Men appeased.

To the rest [perhaps the other Arkati], Avatars are of the past only, never to be remembered as a lingering regret. I am not of Them, and I have not forsaken those blessed by Sheru. The world requires balance, and the time comes to bring forth what was sealed.

The First Step

My work be done, and My image be reunited. Rejoice, for the cry at night is one of the jackal. He is Who Brings Balance!

In the world of change, my Avatar is rejoined to the fold. My eyes see as his, and My will is fulfilled with his voice. The time is coming; a new age of existence will be found. My influence grows, and the lesser beings will find solace in balance I provide. Go forth and spread the word of power, join voices. Exhale My breath and stir the winds of change. Gather followers to aid our song. Seek not the false, the opportunists. My desire for conquest is begun, and it is through devotion and inspiration in which you find brothers.

In the name of Balance, the races are robbed of their power. I allow empowerment again. The cries of agony and pain, the sweetness of blood flowing in My name, makes every moment feel as raindrops hitting the skin.

The Second Step

My strength grows. It is time for the other Avatars to be unleashed upon this world. Gather, bring to Me what I require to bring them forth. Only the most devout will be given this privilege. When I am appeased, and the others [Avatars] are to come, the sky will turn black as night, and the earth will tremble. When My three Avatars stand free of the shackles of the Time of Choosing, the pathetic and mindless will fall to their knees. Rejoice, for the sky is dark with the blood of the sacrifice to the Jackal. He is Who Brings True Balance!

[Symbols of the world interspersed with flame and destruction - the jackal and strength next to it. Appears to translate to the following] The destruction and chaos of the lands strengthen the Jackal. [Suggested that the fires aren't for destruction but purification. Symbols follow indicate Sheru in a pack of jackals and the symbol for strength. Appears that Sheru's followers will be what remains afterward, and they are called to unity.]

[The symbol of separation and the mention of fear. Interpretation follows.] The blood of the guilty will turn in the face of the Jackal's howl. [Implied that those in fear of Sheru will be scattered. With fear, comes doubt.]

The Third Step

[The Seer's interpretation is that the third step is to strengthen their numbers. Build shrines, recruit people and build a strong base of all those who support the cause.] My work be done, and My devotions be proven. Rejoice, for the Pack howls stronger to the Jackal. He is Who Brings Balance!

The Fourth Step

[Symbols representing doubt and fear placed over a jackal's head to indicate it brings him power.] The taste of the [mortals'] doubt of the Others [Liabo Arkati] brings me ecstasy and contentment. We will seal Them as they have sought to separate Me from My place. I say unto thee a sheaf of grain is better burned than to nourish Them.

They infringe on Our rule, and guided by the Crimson, we will punish those who doubt and speak against Me. Those who are not of our Pack must be shown to hardship, and they will break against Our fortitude. You are My pack, and you will not break. Proof is the physical determination of your spiritual desires, and you will terrorize them in My name.

[Another stylized conclusion] My work be done, and My image be feared. Rejoice, for the sky is bleeding of the sacrifice to the Jackal. He is Who Brings Balance!

[At this point, the text was too faded or fragmentary to draw anything further.]

Synopsis of the Text

Introduction - The world was created in balance. Life countered death, and darkness countered light. As the mortal races began to rise, the balance began to erode. The Arkati, especially those of Liabo, saw echoes of themselves in the mortal races, but Sheru did not. The Arkati - Sheru included - infused Their power and influence into selected mortals known as Avatars, but the balance continued to erode. Sheru stood alone as the only Arkati to realize how much the balance had faded and that action would be required to restore it. Eventually, the Avatars were sealed away, seemingly for eternity. While the other Arkati saw the Avatars as figures remaining only in the past, Sheru refuses to forsake those whom He has blessed. He instead sees the Avatars as a mechanism by which to return the balance that had been lost.

The First Step - The first of Sheru's Avatars will awaken, who will carry out Sheru's will in the world. This Avatar will bring about a new age of existence, and the mortal races will take comfort in the balance Sheru brings to the world. Sheru's followers are told to go forth, spread His word and gather together His faithful and like-minded. Where the mortal races had been robbed of power in the name of restoring balance, Sheru will bring power once more.

The Second Step - Sheru's strength grows, and His followers are commanded to bring what is needed to wake the other Sheruvian Avatars so there are three in total. When the others are to wake, the night will turn as black as night and the earth will tremble. Then shall those who oppose Sheru fall to their knees and they will be consumed by fear and doubt, scattered to the winds. Destruction and chaos reign supreme, a purifying force to cleanse the world so only those who join with Sheru will remain.

The Third Step - Those who join with Sheru are to strengthen their numbers, build shrines and recruit new people to build a strong base of supporters.

The Fourth Step - Sheru's opponents will be consumed with doubt and it brings Him delight. Life will become hard for all who oppose Sheru, and the Liabo Arkati and Their followers shall be separated from what they love. Food and other necessities of life will be tainted and spoiled, showing that it belongs to Sheru and His followers, but those joined with Sheru shall be spared. They will instead gather together into a Pack, tightly knit and led by Sheru.

Further Comments - Drawn in part from work with Saska, Ephelysse, Hitch, Rhyssa, Jesira and Yuratlya

The text is written from Sheru's perspective, and it presents a different slant upon the role typically ascribed to Him. In this text, He appears as a keeper and maintainer of the world's balance. Indeed, He claims the epithet "He is Who Brings Balance" several times. He also claims a benevolent role, seeming to show Himself as faithful to His followers, a savior to them even more so than the Liabo Arkati who appear as weak and too emotionally involved with the mortal races.

The first step appears to be accomplished in the awaking of the Avatar Azorlok. It also speaks to a gathering of the faithful which we may surmise refers to the arrival of the cultists.

The second step appears to explain why the cultists are so closely knit, constantly recruiting and strengthening their numbers. It is suggested that their strength, unity and devotion to Sheru is what will spare them from the destruction. It also provides a method of recruiting followers - join and be spared. The shrines being constructed throughout the lands provide an immediate place of worship, further strengthening the cultists in their activities. They don't need to travel far to worship or gather together with like-minded followers.

Given the recent famine and blight sweeping the lands, it would appear that the fourth step is coming to pass. Unfortunately, no clue is given in how to counteract it.

Destruction to the Blood-Seeker

01/29/2012 11:03 PM CST

Dateline ~ Restday, the 29th day of Lormesta, in the year 5112

Destruction swept across the outskirts of the elven nations recently as one known as the Avatar of V'tull, Carhn, fought violently against adventurers who were determined to put an end to the occupation of the wilds by vicious creatures who sought the blood of innocents. After several bloody battles, it is said that the Avatar was slain by a brave dwarven adventurer, who, backed by several other adventurers battling the invading creatures of the environs, was able to take the Minotaur-Avatar Carhn down to his final rest. Rumors have it that the very night of Carhn's demise, the volcano in Teras Isle known as the 'Eye of V'tull' trembled heavily in anger and several locals say the mournful wails of a creature in death were heard momentarily throughout the isle.

Since that fateful event, the occupations have died out around the outskirts of the elven nations, and though precautions are still being taken by local authorities and those who live in the vicinity, there has been no more reports of significant occupations since. Skirmishes upon travellers continue to occur, and all those travelling outside of the protection of city walls are still cautioned to maintain groups of more than three, but no significant invasions have occured. In addition, shrines to V'tull built into the wilds have suffered great losses as reported by those locally, as cultists who once walked the Shining City and its proud companion fortress city Ta'vaalor with heads held high quickly took flight and have been seen leaving the cities daily. Some reports have come in of citizens "helping" with this process in less than amicable ways, but authorities have not confirmed any such thing despite inquiries as to incidents spoken of.

Though it has been a month since the death of the V'tullian Avatar, it certainly has taken its toll upon the followers of the Crimson Moon as they continue to move from their cities in fear of reprisals by those who once tolerated their presence without choice. It will be interesting to see what unfolds in the future as the loss of V'tullian followers is felt by those who support the prophecy of the Crimson Moon and whether or not it will have an effect on the blight still felt so prominently in many towns across Elanthia.

Speaking of the blight, there is some progress being reported by various cities across Elanthia as samples of water, crops and animals are being examined by the most highly educated scholars and alchemists available, joined by adventurers who have risked themselves to provide more information to the cause. The discovery by said adventurers in Wehnimer's Landing of the healing powers of Voln's cleansing pools was a major starting point in the progress made and since then, several people previously afflicted by the blight have regained their health due to that event. There is work in progress regarding the use of the healing springs and how to further their powers, but it is not yet completed. Stockpiles of clean herbs, water, food and supplies continue to be donated by adventurers and are being used rapidly by those who are most in need at this time. Local authorities continue to encourage any and all donations in the wake of this tragic blight as work is being conducted in the background to put an end to the destruction.

~Elanthian Inquisitor

V'tullian Presence Burned Out

01/30/2012 11:19 PM CST

Dateline ~ Tilamaires, the 31st day of Lormesta, in the year 5112

In a spectacular display of smoke and flames, a V'tullian shrine hidden deep in the midst of Shanty Town in Wehnimer's landing was uncovered and ransacked by local adventurers during the night! Talk of cultists rushing to safety from the structure as the adventurers battled their way through has escalated to rumors of demons being found within the shrine itself. Though the buildings surrounding the shrine mostly suffered smoke damage, some did take structural damage from the fire and one in particular is all but collapsed. Local authorities were not available for comment at the time of publication but we will continue to follow this in days to come.

Perhaps there is a silver lining in the blood of the Crimson Moon after all...

~Elanthian Inquisitor

Meeting with Hanos, and Burning a V'tullian Shrine

02/02/2012 03:54 PM CST

On the evening of January 31, Hanos met with adventurers in the courtyard of the Voln monastery in Wehnimer's Landing to share some information that he had uncovered regarding the crimson moon.

Yuratlya continues working on a translation of the Dark Requiem, but has chosen to do so in solitude. This is to prevent the curse that seems to affect those working with the book from spreading to anyone else. The translation will be released when the task is complete.

With the defeat of Carhn, the occupations of certain areas such as Wehntoph and the Badlans have been shattered and returned to their normal state of affairs. Cultist numbers are beginning to decrease, and Hanos reported that he is beginning to discover cultist shrines that are empty. It would appear that the V'tullians, once practicing in open defiance, have been driven into the shadow. Further, defeating Carhn appears to have sowed the seeds of dissent among the cultists, and a growing insecurity is manifesting among them.

In addition, the adventurers' work with the blight is beginning to show results. Signs show that agriculture is starting to improve, and sources of cleaning waters are being used to heal people of blight-related illness. Hanos points to a combination of healthy people and coordinated action as being a key to success.

However, Hanos then mentioned a 'disturbance' in the area that he had sensed for a long time, but up until that point had not posed a major threat. He asked those present to search the area of the Landing and its environs for anything out of the ordinary, but did not elaborate on the nature of what was being sought. He did, however, hint that we might find a trap and suggested that the people be prepared.

After some searching, an alley was located in the Shantytown area of the Landing that appeared intriguing. Following it took the people across a rooftop, through a broken window, and eventually to a fenced-in yard with several dug-out holes. A tunnel was located under some boards in the yard, and soon after entering the space, the people were attacked by V'tullian cultists.

Pressing forward through another concealed tunnel, an altar was discovered with a gold wall set with gemstones depicting the Lornon Arkati. This altar, however, concealed yet another shrine behind that gold wall. When people arrived to investigate, demons known as oculoths arrived that killed most people there. Only through Delcian's after-death calling on Ronan were they defeated.

A series of four weapons were found on top of the altar in the hidden shrine, which were taken as the group evacuated to the Voln monastery to tend to the dead. Candles had also fallen over in the shrine, starting a fire that necessitated a quick exit. As an examination of the weapons began, however, those bearing the weapons began to experience impressions and visions of one in particular, a rhimar flail inscribed with sigils and the word "Lust." These visions centered upon Ivasian worship, and it wasn't long before a desire to possess the weapon had overtaken each of the flail's bearers. It is unknown at this moment if the other weapons also gave similar visions.

The weapons were taken into the purifying spring at the Voln monastery, only to have them wrenched from the bearer's hands to land on the ground outside. After some time of people falling to the flail's temptation, the weapons were gathered together and placed in a secure location for study.

Sanity, Seduction, and Struggle

02/02/2012 10:32 PM CST

The silent fire of daybreak spreads across Wehinmer’s Landing, chasing away the horrific evening. The soggy, hissing corpse of a burned Shanty Town block is revealed in the morning light. Smoke from the black mound curls up to chase fruitlessly after the receding darkness. The solar wave creeps through a window at Thrak's Inn and Oro greets it with a contemptuous sneer. His hemlock eyes are bloodshot and encircled in dark rings.

“Five hundred and seventy two…” He pronounces, a finger tapping the last plank in a long row along the wall. His face scrunches up and in a fit of rage he blurts a series of expletives, cursing any Arkati he can think to name. Exasperated, he pushes himself to his feet and stumbles to the door. Snatching up his overcoat he flings the door open and thunders down the plankboard stairway to the front desk. Upon catching the eye of a clerk he approaches, his head bobbing in a slow nod. Producing a hefty bag of silvers from his pocket he tosses it on the table.

“Hold my room for…” He pauses, staring at the bag of coins. His face is harrowed, the pale tint of exhaustion spread over his features. Even his attempts at forming a coherent sentence seem agonizing. His gaze moves languidly from the bag of coins to the inn keeper- “…A while.” Turning to leave, he steps toward the door, but the clerk pipes up in a stammer,

“Uh, y-yessir! But, what … if someone should ask of you?” Oro stops midstride. Raising his right hand, he waves the man’s question off dismissively and opens the front door- mumbling as he exits,

“Tell ‘em I went to visit my father.”

Stepping through the door and out onto the street Oro immediately squints. The bright cascade of sunlight catches his weary eyes unprepared. Groaning, he slams his eyes shut and rubs at them, trying to achieve some clarity. It was a mistake he’d wish he hadn’t made; for in the darkness green motes of light came to him. They swirled against the blood red flesh of his eyelids, filling his vision, or mind, in a grim emerald glow. She had been waiting.

His ears rang with a sweet sirens song, his face flush and chest swelling to greet the call. Images of flesh on flesh, women writhing, and the alluring promise of pleasure filled him utterly. Oro’s gigantic form began to sway in time with the song. His nostrils flare and he sniffs the air, the scent of sweet perfume filling his nose, which causes a broad smile to stretch over his lips.

All at once, the warm, comforting sensations filling his mind are ripped away. The pit of his stomach lurches and he must clench his jaw to keep from vomiting. An urgent, reckless sense of longing overtakes him. In place of the salacious imagery comes the vision of an enruned flail. Robed monks are examining it, manipulating it, each touch and incantation they pose to the metal causes his mind to fill with the sound of tortured screams.

Gasping for air he forces his eyes open, wide, and bellows a terrified scream. An old woman, her arms filled with bread, is startled by his yell and drops everything she owns to ground. Babbling apologize Oro stoops to help.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I... I lost my senses there for a moment." His tone is cordial as he shakily attempts to recover both his dignity and poise. Clutching a half dozen loaves in his hands he turns to face the old woman. As his gaze falls on the woman, his jaw goes slack. Her arms have transformed into insidious black tentacles! Screaming, she lunges at him, attempting to ensnare him with her demonic limbs! In a rush of adrenaline he drops the loaves in his hands, screams, and punches the woman square in the head with all his might!

The wet sound of flesh on flesh rings in his ears. He is looming, fist clenched, over a frail old woman. Her trembling figure is curled against the ground, blood pouring from a gash in her forehead. Her thin hands are laced over her face. She is wailing for mercy. In a flutter of confused blinks Oro glances down and discovers that he has the collar of the woman's threadbare shawl clutched in his trembling hand.

“I…” Before he can speak another word, a lilting song begins to ring in his ears. The voice of a woman…

“Oro… you gave me away. Don’t you love me? Don’t you... want… me? They're hurting me, Oro.” A shrill cry leaps from Oro's throat. He drops the old woman and claps both his hands over his ears. Turning, he races away from his stunned victim, barreling toward the North Gate of the city.

Mayor Stennis Addresses Wehnimer's Landing

02/04/2012 12:11 PM CST

Mayor Stennis of Wehnimer's Landing is expected to address the townspeople at 3:30pm Elven time. He will be outside of Moot Hall and rumors have circulated that he has spent all morning in a foul mood.

All law-abiding citizens are encouraged to attend.

Stennis assured the people present that he was not standing idly by during the troubles with the crimson moon. He swiftly declared Jesphian and Caden traitors to the Landing and had them banished. Some of those present mentioned that other people helped Jesphian and Caden, and Stennis responded that those who 'associate' with them would meet a similar fate. Jesphian would appear soon after and was dragged off to be hanged.

Stennis then went on to say that the petition for construction in Shanty Town was successful and work would begin on the area. The town council, working with the official Izaar, has put together plans on how to proceed with construction, which would include purifying the site. Stennis also assured the people that 'every silver' that had been raised last summer by the meeting hall organizations would go toward this effort.

When asked of how to assist with the aid effort, the bins in Shantytown were mentioned as a place to leave material supplies. Nilandia offered the use of her home outside the Landing to shelter the displaced, and though Stennis said he would let the council know of the offer, Izaar said that some of the raised funds would be used to provide shelter for the homeless. Studies were being done into using the blessed waters of Voln's spring as a method of curing the blight in the plants and purifying other water sources.

Brinret asked concerning town defenses, and Stennis promised that work was being done on the matter, including increased guards on the streets and additional towers with archers and mages to defend the walls and surrounding forest. He also said that when the time comes, a lot of lumber would be needed for construction.

Inquiries were also made concerning demons. Stennis mentioned that he would talk to Pherantyr (the mage in Ye Old Magick Shoppe in the northwestern part of the Landing). A few people also mentioned others to speak with, including Jaired for his expertise in combating the demons, as well as Rahsh and Ephelysse for their knowledge of summoning them. Though Rahsh and Jaired were not present at the end of the meeting, Izaar said he wished to speak with Ephelysse at some point in the future.

Brinret requested that people who worship the "dark Arkati" would likewise be thrown out of town, but that was turned down by several people. Stennis said that he would only move against people actively conspiring against the town. Izaar said he would listen to reports of such people, but stressed that proof must be needed before anything could be done.

Brinret also asked for some method of legislation to help lessen the racism against half-krolvin who had chosen to settle in the Landing. Though Hubris noted such racism might be difficult to overcome because of the Krolvin occupation a few years ago, Stennis said that he would look into the matter. He did stress, however, that he couldn't promise anything.

Fjalar offered one of Carhn's horns to Stennis as a donation to the museum, which he accepted.

Taakhooshi asked on whether the Lodge could be reopened, though Stennis said that was a question for the Hall Steward.

Heavy Rain

02/09/2012 09:41 AM CST

A nasty storm started everywhere, which may or may not be connected to the storm problem we had in River's Rest the other night. The light of the crimson moon made the rain resemble blood and undead could be heard wailing as well as the Luukosian champion laughing and taunting us. The ground shook as things dug out of it and this was felt in every major town.

Eventually every town came under attack by relatively weak crimon-eyed corpses of various professions as well as a few crimson worms. Our forces quickly seperated to defend each town individually from these minor assaults. Several small waves were dealt with in almost every town while the Luukosian taunted us.

After approximately an hour of this the rain seemed to let up a bit and the moaning of undead on the wind lessened. At which point dark clouds with darker shapes moving through them rolled in. The sound of leathery wings could be heard and the scream of victims as they were plucked up and taken away, similar to what we saw in Icemule. Our forces gathered mostly back together in the park, decided if these demons were to come down we needed to concentrate on protecting one town.

The Landing defenders, as well as the defenders who chose to keep to Illistim, were simultaneously attacked by ebon horrors and shadowy beings, mixed with a few sheruvian mindflayers and punishers. A small strike force managed to take down the first couple of these creatures in the Landing and, believing the area clear for the time being, proceeded to assist in Illistim. Illistim was harder hit with multiple horrors and beings and it took the better part of an hour to quiet things down. Only the timely arrival of reinforcements kept the second wave of horrors and beings in the Landing from getting out of hand.

All told roughly a dozen combined shadowy beings and ebon horrors were dispatched last evening but from what we saw in the sky it barely scratched the surface. The time it took our small strike force to dispatch any one of these creatures was alarming, even with solid tactics. Should we be attacked by them in force and without aid we will not be able to stand.

The Blight Begins to Lift

04/08/2012 04:47 AM CDT

As previously reported, the blight was discussed during the audience with Argent Mirror Myasara last night. Towards the end of the audience, Myasara decided to hear any reports and requests for her. Fethik, at first a bit overexcited and unsure of protocol, blurted out that he had seen a cow. This was met with some confusion, but he started again and explained that he had seen a cow in the park in the Landing eating new spring growth unaffected by the blight. He happily reported that the blight appeared to be lifting. Indeed, the plants around the park and the surrounding area all appear to be showing signs of recovering.

Myasara said that she had heard of a breakthrough in research, and that the plant life had been showing signs of improvement. She said that they have had elves working on investigating the blight, but also noted Nilandia as having been "an important part of this research." She also said that she hoped to be kept informed of the work towards a cure. Nilandia said that she was honored Myasara had heard of her work, and pledged to send word of any new developments. Myasara then said she would send Caylio Javilerre, a Teacher of Lore some may know, to receive any reports on her behalf.

It appears we have cause to hope after all.

Relief from the Blight

04/09/2012 05:19 PM CDT

After months of intense research into identifying the type of affliction used in the blight that fell across all of Elanthia over the winter months, a small breakthrough has been made. Guild masters, Voln Masters, and scholars from all over have been sharing information in an effort to end the disease killing off all plantlife, livestock and water supplies. Several sources of information are being cited as essential to this progress, including research coming in from River's Rest, Vornavis, Wehnimer's Landing, and Ta'Illistim. We hope to see great results in the coming weeks as signs of flora regrowth spring forth in various testing cities. Here's to spring showers and the cleansing of the soil!

Let it Rain!

04/25/2012 12:49 AM CDT

In an unprecedented move by local guilds, all those who can conjure storms have been called together from Elanthia's guilds to create rain throughout the continent. Several monks and various alchemists have been seen in towns, spreading droplets of an unidentified liquid to the soil and the rains have begun all across the lands. Reports will begin coming in over the next week from various appointed governments and guilds as to the results of these measures and the outlook is hopeful. Guild leaders met this past week with various government officials and have issued a brief statement encouraging citizens and adventurers to report any changes they may see in their environment in the coming days, good or bad.

In related news, Mayor Stennis has confirmed that construction has begun in the city of Wehnimer's Landing to reconstruct Shanty Town, hardest hit of the city during the last several months of war with Lornon. Sites have been set up in the area and bins are open for donations of construction materials, foods, and household items for the coming structures. Plans for a memorial site have also been announced by the Mayor, citing the funds of several donations as the reason it was possible. Though the war is not won, there appears to be some light on the horizon as one witness noticed recently. "Ever since that minotaur was taken down by that famous dwarf near Ta'Illistim, the moon has a crack in it! A silvery crack of light!" What it could mean is yet to be seen, but a break from the bloody gaze of the Crimson Moon is welcomed by all as we try to recover from the blight and move forward towards rebuilding.

Conjured storms continue to wash over the continent in an attempt to help revive diseased plantlife, replenish water supplies and remove the blight from the lands. With the help of locals in every city, the tentative cure for the blight is being placed in key points throughout the cities and their outskirts in an effort to spread it in the most efficient manner. So far, the results are favorable as the plantlife has now come back to its normal status in most cases and the water supplies are tentatively being considered recovered as well. A few more tests are required in order to name this an official recovery, but the outlook is good. Rumors have it that there will soon be ceremonies held in the name of those who have contributed greatly to the research of this horrid affliction, once the official word is given that it is indeed cured.

In other, still related, news, reports are coming in that large groups of Liabo followers have been gathering together in strength, raising their voices in prayer to their Patrons and gathering those who have like minds to them in fellowship. Many of the V'tullian followers that were so openly worshiping before have been run from these towns by the locals now that their Avatar is reportedly dead and the shrines once dotting the environs have been torn down, without rebuilding by followers. Some say the cracks of silvery light in the surface of the Crimson moon are a direct result of the loss of the Avatar and the strenght of the Liabo followers who now sing throughout the night tirelessly, while others claim it is due to the recovery from the blight. Regardless, progress is definitely seen and one now has to wonder, why has the Avatar who started it all not made an appearance? Has he been run off? Have any of his minions remained? Though we definitely do not wish for his chaos to reappear, we have to be concerned about the decided lack of appearance and quiet that has come since the loss of the Minotaur Avatar of V'tull. Perhaps the key to the end of the Crimson Moon has been found already, and simply has to be expanded further. One can hope.

~Elanthian Inquisitor

Chapter 3

Hope Springs Anew

01/05/2013 11:47 AM CST

A silvery crack of light has appeared in the domineering crimson glow of Lornon, growing since the defeat of the V'tullian Champion Carhn and the destruction of his totem through the dilligent efforts of our community. Fissures of light splinter off from this rift forming in the deep red glow. Is the Lornonite faction dissolving? Has Azorlok's absence given us an opening to seize somehow?

Join me tonight, at 10 elven in front of the Temple in Wehnimer's Landing, to discuss what has already unfolded and perhaps discuss how we might prepare ourselves for the unknown circumstances which will inevitably surround Azorlok's return. Come, if you are not entirely aware of what has taken place, so you can ask and learn of everything that has unfolded thus far. This silvery light is cause for hope, and I am at your disposal whenever needed to discuss what has taken place and answer questions. Perhaps this evening, as a community, we can find ways to protect and serve one another as we go forward.

Ever your comrade and servant, Lord Myke Naii'Mos.

Shanty Town Rebirth

01/14/2013 05:40 PM CST

The Explanation - Due to an insufficient retaining wall, overflow from the river has long made the southeastern corner of Wehnimer's Landing a veritable mud pit where only the town's poor were willing to live for lack of other options. This long-overlooked tragedy has only grown more noticeable after many invasions and the attacks of Azorlok and his allies on the town have increased the number of homeless and orphans forced to dwell in insufficient living conditions.

The Solution - It is time we came together as a community and did away with shanty town. Wehnimer's Landing should not be a town divided by class or quality of life. To this end, a number of adventurer's put together a plan to repair and reinforce the retaining wall and make necessary changes to the area so that the homeless will be cared for, the orphans educated, and the town united. This includes a number of efforts:

- Construction of new homes and a reinforced retaining wall to replace existing shanties and huts.

- Construction of the Ivory Home, a proper schoolhouse for the town and a home for the towns orphans and homeless.

- Construction of a market stall and limited livestock pens to grow and sell basic vegetables and rolton wool clothing. The goal to is to give the town's displaced a means of self-sufficiency and a livelihood.

- Construction of a new park, a place for the children to play and the townsfolk to gather and bask in a sense of community.

- The hiring of additional guards to man the gates, freeing up adventurers to handle the threats.

- The reinforcement of the towns walls and gates, a long overdue effort to make the frequently assaulted town more secure.

A Morning Later

01/19/2013 10:03 AM CST

The pelt hunt had been a success all things considered, Myke mused to himself as he made his way along the south ring road headed east. A paper-wrapped bundle crunched away with each step, tucked safely under his arm. As he arrived in Shanty Town near the large metal donation bin for foodstuffs he made his way up to a large wooden cart nearby and pushed back some of the craggy grey stones and wooden-handled tools sitting there and set the package down. Before he had even begun unbundling it, some of the locals already hard at work for the morning began to trickle over to greet him.

Smiling back at the others as they trickled over he simply nodded and began to speak, "Well last night was quite the success, we raised another fifty thousand for the construction effort when all was said and done. I thought to celebrate I'd bring you all a hearty breakfast and help sort through the pelts we brought in." Pulling the twine wrapping away from the package by simply gripping it with both hands and popping it with his considerable strength, he pulled the paper swaddling away to reveal even more paper wrappings! This time however, he picked one up and peeled it back to reveal a freshly made mutton sandwich that he started passing out.

"There you go, everybody come grab one I brought a lot. We'll put the leftovers in the bins for the others that aren't awake yet." A mop-topped ginger halfling child and a scrawny blonde human child ran up, shoving each as they went. A taller brown-haired giantman boy ran up behind them moments later. Excited to see the Knight returning, they each grabbed up a sandwich when their turn came, looking more and more silly with the large sandwich as they went down the height line to the little halfling child whose sandwich was the size of his head. Messily devouring their meal, they sat while Myke regailed them with details of the hunt the night prior; Drud and Brynne's skilled archery, Breli's mighty flamberge, Markken darting about in the shadows, Rhyssa's power magics and Saska's talented skinning. They were overjoyed to hear that even Koar's very own Beinion and the Lord Marshal Jaired (retired Lord Marshal, that is) were there.

Their meals, and impromptu story time, complete, Myke gave the kids a pat on the head and gestured with a familiar wave to a trio of teenagers that were already waiting for him when he arrived at the large covered bin to begin sorting the pelts. A dwarven boy, a human girl, and a sylvan boy waited for him with arms folded, turning from their discussion amongst themselves to beam at him bright and expectant. "Bolivar, Teress, Yand, it's good to see you. Have you been practicing?" To this the boys immediately scowled and the girl let out an audible huff.

"With what, sticks? The sticks always break and then we end up spending more time looking for branches than we do actually practicing what you showed us!" Inwardly Myke fought off the grin, their swordplay might not be coming along but their firewood stocking was top notch. Opting to set aside his scheming to get the strong-willed teens to do their share he nodded and reached into the bin to produce a wooden short sword to Bolivar, and a wooden two-handed sword to Yand. Tess had already begun to huff and make some sort of whining noise in the bridge of her nose that only teenage girls are capable of producing when Myke drew out a black-painted short sword and tossed it to her as well. Immediately (as teenage girls are apt to do) her disgruntled noises changed to borderline-shrill noises of excitement and the declaration, "My favorite color, too!" And so the next hour or so was spent once more going over the basics, only the most rudimentary of responsible weapon management and stances. When all was said and done, the trio were put to the task of aiding him in sorting the many gathered pelts and bundling them up proper with some extra twine to 'pay' for their lessons.

Another Morning Later

01/20/2013 10:53 AM CST

Sleeping in was a rare luxury, typically the crest of the sun over a windowsill or nearby line of trees was enough to remind him that there was work to be done. This morning however, he had spent the night out stalking the wilds of Teras on a cliff overlooking the dark palisade. The Luukosians there had been vengeful over his presence, abducting children and the like, even going so far as to falsify a bounty to find one of their own signet rings just to lure him back and spring an ambush. Clearly, they had not been successful, but neither had he. An evening spent stalking the wilds had turned up no clues, nothing of value to their movements, and so it was not until late the next morning that he groggily peeked open an eye.

Staggering into the park, he was met by Shadegrey and the notification of a fresh round of donations that could not be ignored. Trudging across town he felt himself straighten his posture and square his shoulders, even at his most fatigued he wished to present no casual weakness to the people of the town. He wished for his presence to inspire hope. As such he maintained a noble air as best he could around them, one that was only allowed to melt away after a bit of socializing or playing with the children. To this end, he began matters by letting out a sharp whistle upon his arrival and calling out to the kids playing all throughout the corners of shanty town.

"Alright kids, now, Lady Talryssa was kind enough to bring you a very special surprise. Is everyone ready?" Little squeals and cheers permeated the bouncing, bounding mass of youth as they began to practically froth with excitement. Myke could feel a halfling child scaling his leg even as he spoke and glanced down with a chuckle. Peeling back the covering on the lid of the donation bin, it practically overflowed with toys! The children went absolutely berserk, gathering up armfuls until they were corrected that they each got to pick only one for now.

Within minutes there were all across the area playing happily with their new toys. One boy seemed entirely too thrilled to have a slightly disturbing two-headed stuffed turtle toy he was already in the process of pushing through the mud while roaring for some reason. A little girl hugging a tattered Helga doll and treating it like her very own (ugly) baby. A tall red toy crystal golem was clutched in another little boy's hands, stomping through the dirt and making crashing noises as it swung club-like arms at a little girl's winged pink pig that was flying past, causing her to whine and run off. Many more children trotted about happily playing with stuffed ponies, monstrous rolton toys, and more.

The opening gave Myke time to gather up the stack of composite bows piled high near the bin and sling them all over one shoulder clear down to the wrist. "Must be at least ten bows here.. Hmmm," he mused to himself before setting off in the direction of the town barracks. "I think I know what to do with these." Popping in to visit the clothier for a moment, he managed to procure a length of scrap cloth to bind the bows together and some papyrus for a note. In the end, the pile of bows was left for the town guard with a note, "Bows for archery training and active use. The town guard could use some ranged training."

"Now if we could reinforce the walls with spikes to keep creatures like the Grimswarm from climbing over and getting into town, we could build a walkway behind the wall for the sake of building those spikes, and keep them for the town guard to not only keep watch from, but use their bows from.."

Yet another goal in mind, he headed back for the park..

The Search Continues...

01/22/2013 12:34 PM CST

Standing atop the western slope of the Dragonspine Mountains he gazed out over the Elven Nations. Past the icy tundra he could barely make out the trees of Cysaegir. With stoic resolve he ignored the icy cold, the nervousness which he always felt in landlocked places and set out toward his destination.

Searching through the wilds he stopped a moment upon a rocky outcropping overlooking a vast canyon. The soft padding of his footfalls echoed back at him from the canyon walls on the edge of perception. A smile played upon his face as he looked out over his unseen audience. "Echo!" he belted out. A few moments passed.. "Echo" came the response.

A feeling of hope and desperation came over him, "My name is Master Drud Ashlin, Captain of the BixBite! I seek the Seer Yuratlya. The Avatar of Sheru walks among us and will cast our world into darkness if we fail!" The echo responded... then just as he was about to turn and leave Ahoy! came echoing back. Resolved that his plea hadn't fell on deaf ears he continued onward searching until he reached Cysaegir.

Fatigue and world weary he traveled to Rivers Rest and among friends in the commons, he afforded himself a short nap to quench his exhaustion. He woke and as he shook off the last vestiges slumber, he swore he could hear a faint howl from somewhere. Listening closely he could hear another howl answering the first. Another howl caught his ears. The barking and yipping of it almost reminded him of laughing.

Howl after howl echoed in his ears. Then a harsh voice, "You sought to know where she is...and you were heard..."

A pack of jet black snarling jackals paded into the area, slavering hungrily! They leaped forth and the battle ensued. He stood confident, his comrade Bet in the shadows watching his back. Arrow after arrow the Jackals were felled. The voice screeched, "Rip them apart! Teach them for their arrogance!"

In response the jackals bit down on his hand mangling it. The voice screeched, eagerness plain in its tone, "Yes! Rend his flesh! Bite and rip it apart!" Stoked by rage his insides came to a boil, "Cowards show yourselves! Release the Seer!" He concentrated on focusing his thoughts to his ward, "Isanae I need your help I've been wounded."

The voice laughed, "Yes, fear for her life! You will not find her. She is ours." His ward arrived and more arrows flew the jackals were all slain and lay about in a decomposing heap. The screeching voice howled, "You may have slain these, but our pack is countless! And you will never find her."

Gripped with anger he belted out, "I will find her, I won't let you hurt her, my family, or my loved ones!" In response the screeching voice whisper into his ears, "And yet you fear that we will." Deep down he did fear they would, but that fear was the resolve which pushed him forward through the fatigue. Although it wasn't just the Seer he sought, not wanting to tip his hand he kept silent.

The whispering tone of the voice filled his ears once more, "Seek all you wish. We are watching you try and fail. And we know your fears, your delicious fears. Slumber well..."

Cracking the Crimson Moon

02/08/2013 02:41 AM CST

Lectoria, a local seamstress, dropped by to talk and do work for people in the park. The matter of the Crimson Moon was discussed for a while, and Lectoria offered a few insights. Lornonite cultists visit her shop on occasion, and she heard them discuss the recently kidnapped seer Yuratlya, saying that she would never be found.

Lectoria also reported on a rumor that Azorlok may be falling from power, something about the "three" not showing up. Suspicion amongst the adventurers is that it refers to the three Sheruvian avatars that were supposed to awake, according to the prophecy known as the Dark Requiem. Azorlok is the first, but thus far the others have not been forthcoming. Some adventurers also suspect that Azorlok may become frustrated or desperate at seeing his power slip away.

It is speculated amongst adventurers that the reason why Azorlok has been unable to wake the other avatars is because he has yet to find an artifact associated with the Ur-Daemons, which may provide the power necessary. When some expressed an interest in locating the object to keep it from Azorlok, Lectoria became rather adamant that "some things should not be found by anyone."

After Lectoria left, Drud, Myke and Nilandia ventured out to explore some locations that seemed interesting. They ended up at a farmhouse in Upper Trollfang, having noted that a makeshift crimson altar was found on the road not too far away. Drud had found the place before and had found an empty bucket that had contained poison in the shed. Tonight, their moving about had woken the home's residents, and a man appeared at the door, looking none too pleased about being up at that hour.

Drud, Myke and Nilandia all explained their purpose for being there, and the man rather curtly said that he had no problems other than jackals and people tramping over his crops, and cultists having stolen poison from his shed to use in the blight. He left to go back to bed, and the three retreated to deal with the altar.

Baskets of burning herbs surrounded the area, giving off an intoxicating vapor the cultists use to keep their victims from being able to move while they are being sacrificed. Nilandia gathered samples of these herbs for later study. Drud and Myke set on the altar itself, Myke bashing at it with mighty swings of his maul and Drud burning through it with vials of powerful acid. Nilandia joined them shortly after, summoning fire to burn the wooden parts to ash. It wasn't long before the altar lay in a smoldering ruin at their feet.

Myke then reconsecrated the area to Lorminstra and Voln. A chill wind answered, scattering the remnants of the altar so that only a darkened patch of earth could testify that anything had stood there. Clouds gathered over the area and rain began to fall, though oddly only in that small area. The rain extinguished the burning herbs, which Nilandia cast to the winds. Around the world, a few more fissures were seen in the moon, cracks to allow silvery light to escape behind the crimson.

It was noticed that each event that coincided with a crack appearing in the crimson moon had been driven by adventurers: the killing of Carhn, the cure for the blight, and the destruction of the altar near the Landing. With that realization, hope rose that the fight against the Lornonites could be won after all.

The Cold Touch of Brass

02/12/2013 07:42 PM CST

His search brought him all across Elanthia, He'd seen corpses scattered throughout the land. Each one he scrutinized noting the size and length of decay. None he found could have been the Seer. He braved Troll Kings, Harbingers of the Jackal, and massive constructs of flesh, mein, ice, lava, and even wind. He fought back the terror in his throat at the sound of the banshee screams and dodged the glaesen shards let loose by Pyrothrags, yet he found no task so hard as that of living with the guilt he felt at letting the small frail gnome be abducted right under his nose.

The foliage taunted him, the limbs of great trees seemed to creak with secret knowledge. Each day as he resumed his search he made a short diversion. To an old brass relic which lay in ruin amongst the remains of an old fishing village. He would sit and let his mind wander as his fingers brushed the shrine for luck. The brass seemed smoothed over by the grit of those before him. Countless hands had run their course over the smooth brass shrine, and each time he wondered what it knew of them. "What did the brass know?" he'd wonder out loud.

Did it know of the outcropping that listened to his voice, or the canyon walls that mocked him with his own words? Did it know of the Lost mines, the wrecked hulk, or the panels in the sea caves of Voranavis depicting the slaughter, yet another travesty lost to history. Did it know of the buttons upon the poor skeleton that lay in the chilling dungeons of Darkstone Castle, for they too were brass does the brass know itself. How many times had that doomed foot soldier rubbed his own brass buttons as he set out each day. What luck did they hold for him? Each time he graced the cool metal he searched for the answer, yet each time it eluded him again.

After a sitting with a local seamstress he'd lost his resolve, she'd seemed to him to be in the know. Assuredly her clientele served both the crimson plague as well as Liabo's Champions. Her knowing words seemed to sap any hope he had left of freeing himself of the torturous guilt he carried. He confided in his fellows, those who'd bothered to aid him upon his task. He shared with them his hope that he had found where the artifact has fallen and was buried. Visiting the site to survey it the all wondered "what if" and resigned that without the proper tools there'd be no knowing. On their return they visited the farm and had some sense of accomplishment in destroying an altar set forth to honor the jackal or one of his allies.

More cracks in the moon, were they winning? The dead children of Vaalor wouldn't think so. Nor the King.. not even royalty escaped the gaze of the crimson. He'd stood at Victory Gate slaying jackal after jackal, the pack slinked in as unyielding as the great oceans waves. He saw the red eyes in the shadows. What of the family curse, did the brass know? Thinking back to the red eyed elf he'd wondered if Onar hadn't been able to find purchase in his mind. With a shudder he felt spared as he'd contemplated the fate of the Vaalorian traitor. Now having lost the will to carry on the search for the seer he still finds himself weighed down under his burdens, every so often still brushing his fingers upon the listing brass shrine wondering what it knows...

Things That Go Howl in the Night

03/05/2013 12:20 AM CST

Several nights ago a cold wind blew through Upper Trollfang, swirled amongst the grass of Lower Dragonsclaw, and shook the leaves of the Dragonsclaw Forest. The wind struck the gates of the town of Wehnimer's Landing, and on it came the call of a long, lone howl. On this night there was neither the end nor the beginning to this saga of the Crimson Moon, but it was a beginning of a bloody night.

As brave adventurers ventured forth into the night to find the source of these howls, they were beset upon by vicious coyotes and rabid dogs. Blood was quickly shed as these beasts were struck down, and more howls quickly rose in response. Soon deadly lupines joined the fray, accompanied by dark wolves. As teeth and blades struck upon flesh and armor, battle opened throughout Upper Trollfang. As more valiant adventurers joined the fray, so did more lupines, better armed and more dangerous than previously seen. Soon the howls of the night echoed through the Dragonsclaw Forest, and more adventurers found themselves fending off the ravenous beasts.

As the night wore on, bloodshed and death struck both sides of the battle. As a few remaining bloodied defenders held field against the night, howls and growls echoed around them. Some spoke of one growling voice in particular that was heard, and claimed to have taunted the defenders for the actions and failings that night. And then as the wind had blown in and brought with it howls and bloodshed, it blew away and left the night silent. One last growl broke the silence, stating what had been done this night, and leaving the question of what is yet to come. And the adventurers and defenders of the town of Wehnimer's Landing were left standing, stained crimson in the pale moonlight...

In Night's Embrace

03/05/2013 11:49 PM CST

Eyes narrowed, He stood over the prone and sleeping form of the frail gnome, her frame wrapped in stained robes as she lay unconscious upon the stone slab provided for her. A low chuckle escaped him for a moment, and then he raised his gaze, glancing about at the posted jackals whom served as guards for the seer. As he laid an affectionate hand upon the nearest beast's head, his smile faded and became a scowl. The only guards he had with him were the jackals. No other Champion had offered protection for the lair and the significance of this was not lost upon the Avatar. Azorlok knew that the whispers were being traded amongst his fellows regarding the cracks in the crimson moon's bloody surface. He knew that the rumors were slithering their way through the followers of those Champions he called his allies. And he suspected that soon, he may have to show a sign of force to boost his position amongst his allies in order to keep them by his side. Their unity was his power, and he was fully aware of what the loss of even one more would do. The V'tullian loss had played a large enough part in the setbacks he had experienced already.

Yes, he was alone in this lair and the silence, and emptiness, was quite stark to the Avatar. However, he did have her... and his gaze fell once more upon the seer's prone form, now in a coma-like state due to the deep power of the sleep inflicted upon her by his Patron. She would not be freeing anyone else from His inflience, at least that much was certain. This gave him cause to grin once more, and he brightened considerably. There was still time. Time to raise them at his side, so that they could be three. Time to find what they had sought so badly to complete the prophecy. Time to reclaim the power he once wielded amongst his fellows, and gain their power yet again. Yes, time was on his side in this endeavor. He pushed aside the thoughts of all that might not be on his side, in favor of this.

Painting the Town Red

03/09/2013 04:12 PM CST

Naja's animated recounting of the havoc created in Icemule Trace by the Mulariosian Champion caused him to chuckle, his eyes bright with interest and pleasure at the horror that the citizens must have felt during the events of the previous evening. Several of the jackals were snickering as well, their high-pitched squeals of amusement echoing sickeningly from the walls of the lair. Yes, he definitely had time on his side and he was putting it to good use. The Mularosian's harassment of the furry footed population in the icy north had done much to bolster the prayers of those following the Prophecy and its leaders. This in turn, had strengthened his connection to the bloody gaze of the crimson moon and tonight, not even the irritating moans of the coma-afflicted gnome nearby could deter him from his pleasure.

Naja's sudden cackle of laughter brought him out of his own private thoughts and he turned to regard her just as she eagerly burst out with, "Hey, hey Azorlok! Tell me, what do you call a half of a halfling?!" and Azorlok could not help but grin as he regarded her with mirth. "Do tell, dear Naja." he responded, and she smirked, before responding, "A snack!" Laughter filled the lair afterwards. For the first time in months, the Avatar of Sheru was not concerned with the cracks in the moon or its damnable silvery fractures of light. He had a field of ice and snow, perfectly painted in vivid red blood to entertain him instead.

Brief Recap of Events

03/11/2013 09:06 PM CDT

In January or very early February, the Avatar's blood that infected Isanae was purged from within her. Azorlok, the Avatar of Sheru, had attempted to prevent her recovery and keep her under his influence. It is said that the seer Yuratlya, despite being kidnapped and not in that location, interceded to break Isanae from Azorlok's hold.

Agresh trolls began to threaten the city of Ta'Vaalor, claiming vengeance for being hunted for so many years. Led by a witch named Vargesh, they launched several attacks against the city. The tactics of these attacks showed a seeming knowledge of the defender's tactics, hinting at the possibility of someone in Ta'Vaalor feeding information to the attackers. At the same time, the Lord Legionnaire Commander Tiope Ysinia Vaalor was observed to have an unusual red color to her eyes, which she attributed to her lack of sleep from trying to defend Ta'Vaalor. Some began to become suspicious that she might be the person feeding the trolls information.

Over time, concerns rose that the safety of the king, Tyrnian, might be threatened. Watches were set up to ensure for his safety, including Tiope despite concerns raised by adventurers. Notes and maps began to be recovered that seemed to be from the person who was passing information to the trolls. Troll assassins also appeared in the king's throne room at one point, but were fended off by adventurers.

The attacks all led up to an evening in which the trolls mounted their largest assault yet, with stone siege towers and strong fighters at each gate. In the midst of the attack, Tiope led Tyrnian past Saska, who was standing guard, and took him outside the gates. Before anyone could react, Tiope stabbed Tyrnian in the throat with a blood-red blade and escaped through a potal, claiming that the crimson moon would cause all to fear.

A funeral was held afterward in the Ravelin, where Tyrnian's body was cremated. A memorial was constructed in red marble to the fallen king, which stands to this day.

In late February, a brief skirmish took place on Teras in which cold guardians of Icemule, zealous followers of Lorminstra, located and desecrated the corpse of V'tullian champion Carhn. They claimed the head, which they took with them back to Icemule and posted on the top of a stake as a message to the other Lornonites that they would stand against them.

A few days later, minotaurs traveled up the trail to Icemule and took the head back by force. Adventurers followed them back to Wehntoph and observed the minotaurs' funeral for their fallen warrior. The minotaurs have thus far been quiet after that.

In recent days, the Champion of Mularos, known as Mulrilon, has appeared in the area of Icemule. For the most part, he had only launched conventional attacks against the town, but on March 8, a white floating sphere appeared in the Hall of the Wounded Heart in the temple of Icemule.

From speaking with the priest and caretaker of the area and from the experiences of those who were investigating the sphere, it appears that the sphere has some sort of psychic effect on certain people. Those who are affected have no memory of the encounter, or possibly even of being in the temple at all. Based on observations of and conversations with someone who had such an encounter, it appears that the sphere draws on mental pain of some sort such as painful memories. It is supposed that a person's emotional ties or weaknesses may also be uncovered when being impacted by the sphere, given the brother of one of the affected was found murdered and pinned to the city wall by the west gate shortly after his encounter with the sphere. Another halfling corpse has been found on the east gate, but it is unknown if there is any connection.

Soon after the sphere was discovered, a group of adventurers explored the battlefield out the west gate of the city, where they were met by Mularosians of varying strengths. After battling them for some time, a barracks was discovered, crafted from bloodstained marble. It took some time and no small amount of fighting and healing, but the barracks were eventually destroyed and the area was cleared of combatants.

Mulrilon's voice was heard to taunt those present on occasion, but at one point had said that the halflings' pain and suffering would continue until his creation was born. It may well be that the sphere in Icemule's temple is somehow connected to it. Regardless, the Mularosian's torment is not without purpose, and the sphere is still active, capturing halflings and emitting shrieks of agony.

=Meeting Mulrilon

03/11/2013 09:19 PM CDT

Energy was in short supply and time had come to make her usual round at the temple. The shrine room is usually so dirty and she had planned to work on cleaning out the globe before taking her rest. Heading toward the hall of the dark she came across a group of people. She found herself wondering if they were lost as most of them prayed a lot farther north in the temple than where they currently were. Curiosity won out and she stayed for a few moments in an attempt to understand why they had gathered there. Her attention was quickly drawn to the white sphere floating in the room. It was explained to her by the dwarf that the sphere had appeared here and brought about a sense of woe and some little halfling was enthralled by it currently. They bickered back and forth and eventually took the halfling from the area.

She remained there waiting, curious about the sphere floating in front of her. A giantman arrived and a discussion was began over how he did not trust something that floated like that. In teasing him she offered him a block of ice from her ring, chuckling to herself as she knew it would float around him. As he held it the ice suddenly disappeared from his hand and he had no idea where it had gone. After a few more moments of chatting a scream broke their conversation and they both hurried off to the area it seemed to come from. The sight that awaited them was a rather scandalous one. A halfling had been ripped open and hung to the town wall. She stood for a moment marveling at the graphic display. The others who had gathered decided to wander to battle, the giantman joined them. The girl felt it best to return to the orb.

Time passed slowly as people came and went to look at or discuss this new orb. After a while she was the last to remain. Suddenly she had flashes of her youth, the conversations between her parents about how useless she was, the healers refusing to train her further, the hopeful words of her parents ideas to trap her in marriage. Her mind came back and she found that her eyes were wet from the flood of memories. Angry, she started swearing about the tears, yelling that she shouldn't be forced to flash back on that. At first she thought it was shock setting in until the voice became louder. Telling her to leave it alone, to leave. Scolding her for not staying and teaching them. She argued back with the voice explaining she cannot teach what she did not know. The voice knew her and recognized her as a child of Lornon. With a jolt of surprise she realized the voice was coming from the sphere and asking for protection. Was it worth her protection, she must know and asked. It lashed out rather fiercely and she found herself stunned.

Regaining her senses she heard a different voice, a male was near. The new voice goaded her, stating she was hiding what she was and the time had come for her to act and not worry with choices. She found herself explaining that choices were always something to worry over as times like these call for working carefully and quietly. He explained to her what would come of the sphere and how it would help grant the peace that many wished for. What help would he need to see this through? Suffering, was his response, the halflings must suffer and succumb to their woe. She offered to aid him as best she could, though advised him that she often works in ways most do not discern. As her eyes grew tired she left him with some parting advice. The show on the walls was lovely, but if he chose a more prominent figure he may invoke more from the people of the town. He assured her that there would be plenty of decorations on the walls. With a quick blessing of the Queen given to the gent, she decided against cleaning and headed off to find her rest. She would need her energy to be high for the tasks ahead.

The Wounded Moon

03/23/2013 05:15 AM CDT

Last evening the Mularosian cultists in Icemule trace rallied to the call of their champion, using horrifically barbed flails to strike at the innocent citizens of Icemule Trace. Heroes responded to the needs of the town, fighting back the Mularosians in a bloody battle that seemed without end. Ice trolls continued to lay siege outside the town walls, but the chaos of battle allowed them to break through the East Gate. This distraction allowed the champion of Mularos to make off with his sphere, accompanied by his most devout followers.

After the remaining cultists were dispatched within town, those who fought bravely met with Caretaker Lazoar in Icemule's temple. Lazoar, being a dedicated follower of Lornon, was rather upset about the fact that the sphere was no longer within his temple. In an act of envy and betrayal, the caretaker revealed the Mularosian's plot to take the sphere to Wehnimer's Landing where they would attempt to destroy Lorminstra's temple.

Heroes arrived just in time to prevent the slaughter of the priests and monks within the temple, the sphere floating just outside its entrance. After slaying numerous thralls and zealots, the heroes then faced Mulrilon himself. The champion of Mularos was cornered, with no servants to guard him and nothing but his faith to protect him. He then committed a most terrifying act. Inflicting a horrible wound upon himself, Mulrilon bled over the sphere until his life expired. In his final act of hatred and spite for the followers of Liabo, he released his creation upon Elanthia.

A demon of great power hatched from within the sphere. This creature is known to many as an oculoth. Heroes fought bravely against the demon, using their combined skills to whittle it down until it could no longer sustain itself. Many perished in the wake of the oculoth, but their souls were protected and their bodies were soon revived to continue their adventures in Elanthia.

The crimson aura around the Lornon moon flared brilliantly, and then cracked. Another wound to those who walk in darkness, and a victory for those who follow a more "enlightened" path.

Trolls continue to plague Icemule Trace, seeking revenge for the theft of their warchief's axe.

A Snake in the Grass

04/04/2013 08:15 PM CDT

The people who wished to make the journey into the dreamlands met in the Voln courtyard. We were again reminded of our task to find the seer Yuratlya and gain any information from her that we could. It was also stressed that unity of purpose was vital for us to succeed or even survive. We were supposed to remain in one group, with one purpose and one common goal. The dreamlands were described as the manifestations of both dreams and nightmares. We had to be prepared for anything, and we had to remember that, while what we experienced was in the mind and not physically real, any harm that we suffered would translate to our physical bodies.

With that, Delcian called on Ronan's blessing and those present fell asleep to venture into the dreamlands. Hanos remained behind to keep watch over their sleeping forms so no harm came to them. Following Delcian, the group made its way through the area, which appeared heavily influenced by the Lornon Arkati. Finally, Yuratlya was located, but she was comatose, kept in a cage high over an ocean. The group attempted to wake her so they could talk.

Too late. Yuratlya was the bait in a trap, and the way back was closed off. A voice said that the dreamlands were instead nightmares, and suddenly the group was surrounded by jackals. They were dispatched, and Yuratlya woke. She begged those present to leave, and informed the group that the Lornonites were seeking an artifact, a claw either owned by or part of an Ur-Darmon. The claw must be recovered before the Lornonites if they can be defeated.

But the voice returned, saying that the nightmares would be the adventurers' tomb. Two vathors appeared, and though they were killed, dozens more appeared and came close to attacking the group. Only the appearance of a black unicorn with a silver mane save them, as it called on a shield around the group to protect them. The unicorn praised Delcian, but said that the group had to leave. The nightmare was no place for them.

Lightning crawled up the cage holding Yuratlya, and the group worried for her well-being. Still, they had to leave. There was nothing they could do. The unicorn opened the way to safety, and the group made its way back to consciousness.

On waking up, Hanos was informed of the events, and reiterated that an attempt would be made to find and kill the Luukosian champion Naja. The group would meet at Voln at 10:30 the following Wednesday night.

Last night, the group gathered and met with Hanos. He would bring us to the entrance to the area he had uncovered, but would remain behind to try to keep Naja from learning of our presence too soon. In this instance, we were also told that we were looking for information, so we were to explore as much as possible before getting to business on destroying the totem that is the source of Naja's power.

We entered an underground set of caverns that were swarming with undead of various strengths. The group made its way through the tunnels, going through various places like a treasury with several objects that we took with us, a "playroom" with various implements of torture, and a study with a map on the table. We took a closer look at the map: "Silver tacks topped with red enamel are pinned to the map around the major cities of Elanith. The largest profusion of tacks seems to circle Wehnimer's Landing, River's Rest, and Ta'Illistim." Underneath the map, we noticed a small scrap of papyrus which also had some small details: "Torn from a full piece of parchment, the scrap is tattered around its edges and features the latter half of a directional compass, showing south, west, and part of east. The letters "I", "M", and "T" are traced along the corner, and a drawing of a sarcophagus is carefully sketched."

Eventually, we made our way to the altar room where the totem was found. Only disintegration spells appeared to affect it. Thankfully, we had Eles and Jani who went to work on taking it down. As they did, shrieks of pain echoed through the area and a thunderstorm cracked the sky. Despite being swarmed with undead, the totem was dismantled and its power broken. The walls began to crumble around us, and we hurriedly made our way out.

Regrouping at Voln, Hanos informed us that Naja had been screaming in pain when the totem was being destroyed and had fled. Since the totem is destroyed, however, she is vulnerable to harm like Carhn was when Fjalar destroyed his totem and eventually killed him. We have few clues to where she is, aside from the maps. Hanos suspected that the maps were locations where the artifact was being searched for, but the map fragment may point to clues of Naja's location. Given the map fragment has the letters I M T, the first instinct is to search Icemule. Indeed, Hanos seemed to think that places up north were good to search, either for Naja or the artifact. A group of people went up to Icemule to look for various sarcophagi, but without any further progress.

Ign's Sorro

03/15/2013 11:48 PM CDT

The rumors spread like wildfire across Elanthia...

...trolls were advancing on Icemule Trace...

...their warchief's axe has gone missing...

A group of brave adventurers arrived in Icemule Trace and began their investigation earlier this evening. Little was revealed as the party moved through the streets and known territories of the local ice troll population. Eventually they wandered into the wandering halfling, Ign, who's eyes glowed with an uncanny white light and had been marked on one temple with a white heart-shaped scar. It was soon learned that Ign's sight and sense of smell had been taken from him. The young halfling also kept referring to someone called "master", who had been giving Ign these so-called lessons.

It was then that Ign's master, Mulrilon arrived, speaking softly from the shadows. The champion of Mularos warned the assembled heroes not to try anything foolish, like stopping the ice trolls from finding their warchief's axe. Mulrilon's pet demon, known as Lash to the young halfling, then struck out with a barbed red whip-like tongue. After an exchange of threats and promises, Mulrilon then ordered Ign to wander east until he could no longer. The young halfling was no longer needed. Ign stumbled around blindly but eventually made his way out of the East Gate.

Siege towers were spotted around the perimeter of the town walls, and sentry towers were found close to the snow fort. Ice trolls began to assemble and move in force around the Ign continued to wander blindly around in the tundra until the group of heroes detained him and in an act of desperation, clobbering the poor halfling over the head with a coffer.

It seemed to work!

The glow left Ign's eyes, and he was able to see and smell again. Ign suddenly realized where he was and who was with him. He shouted to the heroes that they needed to go to the snow fort, and stop whoever was there. Ign then ran as fast as he could in the direction of the fort, but his trail was lost by the adventurers who did manage to find strange activity upon their arrival. Powerful Mularosian cabalists and inquisitors were present, along with fearsome ice troll warbringers. Whether the two factions were fighting each other or working together is still a matter yet to be determined. After countless trolls were slain, and the Mularosians dispatched, the adventurers retired back to town.

Ign's death was not swift...

His final cries later heard in the minds of many, a tortured wail of agony.

Icy Endeavors

04/12/2013 05:20 PM CDT

We gathered at the Landing Voln to talk to Hanos. He told us that a party of trappers had vanished about 10 days ago. Two halflings and a half-elf, they were based out of Icemule, but tended to work between the Landing and Icemule. Hanos asked us to look around and see if we could find any clues to where they had gone. He said that he believed that their disappearance was connected to the artifact that is being searched for, but did not specify why. He also said that he would return on Sunday at 7pm to discuss anything that might be found, and then left us to our search.

The people who took to the search worked their way up the trail between Icemule and the Landing. It wasn't long before the party was attacked by jackals and lupines. A deep, growling voice also taunted some members of the party, demonstrating a knowledge of the people being spoken to and that they were watching the group.

As the group recuperated in a tree, Philnia reported seeing something glinting in the snow behind the tree. A frozen piece of finger was found in the snow, and the group continued onward. Closer to Icemule, a kobold was found gnawing on an engorged cockatrice head branded with a sigil, and it was quickly relieved of its prize. Lastly, a shadowed figure was seen rushing away from a nearby tree, and Mithogras found a canvas bag filled with skins in the snow nearby immediately after.

The finger appeared thus: Frozen and starting to show signs of decay, this is only half of a finger. The fingernail is dirt-ridden and blood is encrusted along the edges.

The cockatrice head had no finer detail to see. The canvas bag appeared thus: Stiffened with ice and snow, the canvas bag is soaked completely through and is starting to show signs of mildew. The clasp is half-torn, as if it had caught on something and ripped open.

In the sturdy canvas bag: skin (5): a bundle of caribou antlers, a bundle of ice hound ears, a bundle of bear hides, a bundle of cockatrice tailfeathers, a bundle of wolverine tails.

Nilandia attempted to examine the canvas bag for any traces of psychic energy. There was very little to discern, aside from that the bag was left in the snow in a hurry, and the clasp might have broken when the bag either was ripped from someone's hand or caught on something like a tree limb. She then attempted to observe the finger and whether it was connected to the canvas bag. She sensed that the essence clinging to the finger was the same as on the bag, leading her to conclude that the finger may have belonged to the bag's owner, but she couldn't determine anything else.

The group kept searching, but aside from howls coming from the south of Icemule, nothing new was found. If anything else was located afterward, I haven't heard of it.

Icy Endeavors II

04/15/2013 06:35 AM CDT

In Loving Memory:

Restday, Olaesta 14, 5113

Per the request of the Warder Hanos all able and interested parties met at the Voln courtyard in Wehnimer's Landing. The discussion involved various items of interest found along the trail between Icemule Trace and Wehnimer's Landing. The nature and location of these clues gave us a location to begin searching for our missing party of trackers and the fate that befell them. While most believed they had already passed it was believed that the location of their disappearance might point us towards something the Lornonites had kept hidden.

The party set out following the lead of Lady Saska to the location of a tree impaled with a giant claw. Unfortunately many recognized this as having been there for all of recent memory. The party was handed off to Jani who lead everyone to the snow drift in which a journal had been found. While the party searched around this area Hanos wandered off along the trail. Brinret, being one to wander off on his own as well, soon followed and found him muttering about a feeling and peering around. A careful search revealed a hidden crack in the ice large enough to move through.

As the rest of the party caught up the group was set upon by Lupine and jackals. The gathered adventurer's made short work on the threat and then moved into the crack in the ice, while Warder Hanos remained outside to guard the entrance. They shortly came to a passageway that was heavily warded. After heavy magical assault the wards were broken but during the chaos many members of the party were killed by attacking Lupine forces. At Hanos' urging the remaining members of the group went on through the passage while Philnia and Saska remained behind to set up triage and get those that had been killed moving again.

Past the passageway a clearing was found. The walls were covered with magical sigils and Lornonite images. A dark ironwood sarcophagus covered with runes dominated one wall. It was determined that this was Azorlok's item of power and those remaining set upon it with spell and blade. Waves of Lupine and jackals confronted the adventurers, attempting to protect the sarcophagus. During the chaos the Warder Myke was killed by "accidental" friendly fire from Brinret. Even with all this the sarcophagus and Lornonite etchings were eventually destroyed, heavily weakening Azorlok. As a result the crimson moon crumbled and fell to Elanthia leaving behind a bright silvery moon.

At this point the story diverges into two versions:

According to Lord Brigadier Brinret, during the breaking of the sarcophagus he stepped away to refresh spells. At this time the death of Warder Hanos was felt and his ghostly scream about a traitor was heard by all. The Lord Brigadier then went to check on him and was immediately set upon by Lupine and jackals attempting to secure the Warder's body. He eventually had to withdraw, heavily wounded, and seek out the rest of the group. Hanos' body was never recovered and it is believed his soul was claimed by Luukos.

According to Lord Warder Myke, at the death of Hanos he used symbol of sight to check upon his fellow warder. He claims to have witness Lord Brigadier Brinret dragging off the body of Hanos and burying it while taunting that none would ever find him. The party went to the location he identified but were unable to recover a body. However, after the party left and later returned, Hanos' things were found in that location. Many speculated that the Avatar had corrupted Myke's vision and that Hanos' items had been placed.

Whichever story you choose to believe one thing is clear. During all the in-fighting, and empowered by the death of Hanos, Azorlok escaped. Lord Brigadier Brinret claims that when he was wandering wounded back towards the group Azorlok was taunting him. Claiming that he was going to redouble his efforts.

The crimson moon is destroyed and that threat has passed. yet the life of a great champion of Liabo. Meanwhile Azorlok and Naja are still out there, licking their wounds and plotting their next attack. Worst of all there is dissention amongst the ranks of the defenders. No one knows for sure what truly happened to Hanos and to what extent the Lord Brigadier of the Militia was involved in his death. The prophecy seems to have been averted but was the cost too high?

Crimson Moon Memorial

05/13/2013 07:49 PM CDT

A memorial glade is being developed for release in the environs of Wehnimer's Landing as citizens all across Elanthia begin to recover from the saga of the Crimson Moon. With the induction of the new Mayor of Wehnimer's Landing, things are picking up rather quickly and an invitation has been given to all citizens of Elanthia's many cities to send memorials of their own to place in the glade. Representatives from every city have been given leave to deliver their local citizen's additions to the glade as everyone has suffered a great loss under the horrible strain of the Lornon uprising. The release of the glade is scheduled for the beginning of Lumnea, giving plenty of time for those mementos to be placed within the area for viewing. Further details will be upcoming by Mayor Hraus of Wehnimer's Landing as he announces the opening ceremonies.

Memorial Dedication

06/02/2013 01:19 AM CDT

Please join the citizens of Wehnimer's Landing as a memorial area is released in dedication to those lost to the recent war that has ravaged Elanthia during the saga of the Crimson Moon. A guide will be present in the small park around half past the third hour of the afternoon on this coming Feastday, the 8th day of Lumnea, to take those interested to the dedication site. The unveiling of the memorial sites donated by various citizens of the cities of Elanthia will take place, as well as a small ceremony at the site to honor a few special adventurers whose help was essential to the defeat of the rise of Lornon - appropriate dress and behavior is requested.

Epilogue - The Dark Exodus

02/26/2014 10:18 PM CST

The Snake and Jackal were cast away. Where would they go? How would they rise? Were they being hunted? No time to look back. Forward... Forward... Keep pushing forward. The river was ahead. Their artifacts were destroyed. They needed to make it. Surviving was essential. They could hide within the Light. For no one would find the Dark there. Who would look for the Dark in the Light? Snake and Jackal... Jackal and Snake.

Epilogue - Clutched

02/27/2014 02:05 PM CST

Kuligar Gardane was a member of the merchant council of Talador, his family was once influential and powerful advisers to the original Baron family of Talador, before the Jantalar occupation. It was rumored that Kuligar's father might have turned traitor, and helped the Jantalar invaders in knowing key opponents and movements to help overthrow Talador. But that is neither here nor there. Kuligar wasn't to know what would fall into his lap this evening, but the events would be a whirlwind for the lord.

While riding through the countryside, Kuligar spotted something on the horizon. He was greatly piqued with interest, so he directed his horse to gallop onward, toward whatever it was he saw. As he got closer and closer, he realized what he had found. He slung his bow from his shoulder and nocked an arrow. He'd have to keep his aim true, he'd only have one chance.

And with it, the arrow soared through the air. Cutting through the darkness. He galloped hard to catch up with his target.

Epilogue - A Hero's Reception

02/27/2014 03:45 PM CST

Talador was cold in Eorgaen, but that didn't stop Earl Jovery giving Kuligar Gardane a warm reception. It was announced, after the capture of the Jackal, that Kuligar would be appointed as the new Baron of Talador. It was time to rejoice. The baronial coronation would be held in Charlatos.

But Kuligar still had something dwelling in the back of his mind. That spring when he found the Jackal. There was another with him. A Snake. Oh how power corrupts man. What pact did Kuligar strike to single-handedly capture the Avatar of Sheru. But it was hard to detach himself from revelry that surrounded him. The old mines held the only secret that he did not share. But he would be ruler of this land. He would rise again from where his bloodline failed. And he would deal with the Snake on his own.

The north suffered a long while during the Crimson Moon, and Grand Magister Pylasar of the Hall of Mages in Chastonia would see that the adventurers join them. It had been a long while since those outside the Turamzzyrian Empire were invited to Doggoroth Keep. But it was only proper.

Epilogue - Speechless

02/27/2014 09:18 PM CST

Kuligar's long wait would be over soon. Fashanos proved to nearly come and go. Kuligar was always known to be a charmer, but he changed since last year. He stood up straighter. He walked... He walked like a Baron. Rumors spread that Kuligar was seen taking late night trips to the old mines. Some say he wore a talisman made of a forked tongue. But of course Kuligar would have those that didn't wish him to be Potentate of Talador.

The coming of Charlatos would mean the showing of the Sheruvian. The one they locked into an iron maiden deep inside the keep. They say he's skin and bones now. Kuligar wished it for his Baronial Coronation.

Credits

I'd like to give out the credits for those staff members who helped during these last 3 years, because if not for them, the story would never have been possible. Several GMs put time and effort into the creation of the many shrines, dungeons, temples, altars, props and NPCs ran during this saga. Many more were responsible for QC, approvals, and brainstorming. If I miss someone, I apologize deeply!

I'd especially like to thank the players, however, who put up with the huge delay in finishing the story, and who gave me such energy and emotion during the unfolding of the events that I was staggered. It is always a pleasure to see the characters change, react, and create the vivid world of Elanthia when given the opportunity.

[STAFF CREDITS]

NPCs

Luukosian Champion, Naja - GM Ovellia V'tullian Champion, Cahrn - SGM Wyrom Mularosian Champion - GM Marstreforn Sheruvian Avatar, Azorlok - GM Naionna Voln/Warder Champion, Hanos - GM Bravura

Luukosian Cultist, Arcathis - GM Bravura Various Lornon Cultists - Prime GameHosts

Spider Handler - GM Naionna Scribner and waif - GM Naionna Gnome Seer, Yuratlya - GM Naionna Prophecy Vessel, Pip - GM Naionna and GM Itzel Pip's Father, Erim - GM Naionna Koar Cleric, Pip's Ceremony - GM Thandiwe Wehnimer's Landing, Mayor Stennis - GM Kenstrom Wehnimer's Landing, Town Official Izzar - GM Naionna Wehnimer's Landing, orphans - GM Naionna and GM Ovellia Ta'Illistim, Argent Mirror - GM Valyrka Ta'Vaalor, King Tyrnian - GM Mazreth Ta'Vaalor, Villian - GM Mazreth

Technical and Creations

Approvals - APM Sirina, GM Kaikala, SGM Wyrom, GM Aylias, SGM Izzea, GM Galene, SGM Mestys, SGM Isten QC - SGM Isten, GM Xayle, GM Kaikala, GM Aulis, GM Tamuz Dungeon/shrine/temple creation - GM Ovellia, SGM Wyrom, GM Naionna, GM Zoet, GM Kaikala Messaging/invasions - GM Aulis, GM Lydil, GM Sherlise, GM Naionna, GM Bravura, SGM Wyrom, GM Ovellia Spider mountain - GM Naionna Lornon Sanctuary - Gm Naionna Liabo Sanctuary - Gm Naionna Dreamscape - GM Naionna Azorlok's tunnel - GM Naionna Scribner's Lair - GM Naionna Ronan's Embrace - GM Naionna Yuratlya's Cottage - GM Naionna Farmer's land w/shack - GM Naionna Props for rebuilding of Landing - Gm Naionna Props for Blight - GM Naionna Elanthian Inquisitor - GM Naionna Sheruvian Tome, the Dark Requim - GM Bravura