A journey

[gathera]

A fine mist of rain covered everything with a silvery sheen. I lifted my head skyward letting the few small droplets run down my face like tears. In the distance the large gate announcing Thay’s presence loomed before me. Two guards bored and indifferent stood close by. As I approached the guards stance crisped and with wary eyes they let me past. I could here the soft whispered words “what be one of them doin ‘ere. Undaunted I continued on in silence.
The streets were quiet with the soft pattering of rain having chased most inside. I could see in the distance the grey stone vaulted building that was my destination. I pause a moment, my head spun with doubts, did I truly wish to go on?

“Mind your step here” A solitary guard called out. “ Your kind is always trouble.” Looking me over intently, “I won’t need any excuse to make scum like you disappear”. A nasty sneer graced his face “This is Thayian soil”

I looked back meeting the guards’ leering gaze. A thousand lies sprang to my lips each eager to do my bidding. I licked my lips, time perhaps strangely enough the truth would suffice. “I would be nowhere else” I replied with a coy smile and slowly walked pasted him towards the temple.
The vaulted doors ran wet with the rain. Grey, cold and ironbound doors creaking slowly open announcing my presence. With one hesitant step I entered leaving the lighted world behind me. Inside Cloy scent of incense hung in the air while a myriad of beeswax candles dimly lit the hall. I quickly slipped out of the rain soaked garments and into the dry simple frock of the faithful. A few snide whispers from the temple guards drifted across the hall but I paid them little heed. Ilk such as that was beneath notice. An attendant approached wraithlike to take my weather worn garments from me. Bare-foot I softly padded past him into the darker inner chambers. Pausing for a moment I carefully and slowly continued my steps as my eyes adjusted to the dim light. The candle lit entrance was as the sun to the moonlit darkness with-in the temple. Only the biting cold of the floor gave me a presence that I still stood on the ground. Seemingly an eternity passed and then I was there. A large cut amethyst crystal more black than purple loomed from the darkness. Tiny motes danced about it as moths’ to its mauve flame. I knelt before the swirling motes. Twin indents worn from countless before me were etched into the floor. The stone felt bitterly cold beneath my knees. I struggled to stop the staccato chatter of my teeth as my body betrayed me to the unnatural cold. Ahead inset into the floor was a simple circle. No beginning no end. What once was shall be again. I knew the words, now I would find their meaning. My head swirled from the incense and the vertigo of the darkness. A quick touch to my hip, reassured it was still there. I knew what I must do.
The sharp sting of my knife reminded me of where I was. I watched fascinated as a few slow drops lazily fell from my hand down to the small stone circle inset in the floor. Each drop resonated with a wet splatter, glistening purplish in the hue in the twilight temple. With a shaking hand I traced the blood across the circle and began the slow rhythmic chanting of prayer. What light that was drained away leaving me alone in the still quiet dark. I could sense more than see a form in the ebon darkness lithely slip forth from the gem.
My heart raced a thousand beats, panicked thoughts of failure slithered unwanted into my mind. I would be denied I would fail. I sensed more than saw the darkness coalesce into a fine mist. Small drops of the liquid blackness dripped lazily down. I nearly gasped when the first one gently, delicately touched my flesh. The drop burst both burning and freezing me at the same time. My body arched in spasms as the ebony mist continued its descent. I dared not scream to do so would be death. My muscles knotted, a metallic taste filled my mouth as I bit my lip to keep from screaming out. Some how I still knelt quivering, my death was before me leering. I could see the shadows gather around me gazing down each longing to consume my frail form. Then each faded back into the primal darkness. Gasping my lungs filling with the cold air around me. A light coat of hoarfrost slicked the stone. A gossamer bit of darkness remained, a small piece of frozen night. My fingers reached out tentatively brushing its silky softness. I had not failed.

[gathera]

The scent of the unwashed, blood and broken luck hung fetid and damp in the air. Simple straw mats were lined up against the wall each with a number. Glancing down, the gray straw was still damp from the last occupant. A crudely sketched number marked the mat as mine, number 7.

"My lucky number" I muttered bleakly to tired to care. A small insect bravely darted past seeking refuge in the straw. Numbly I watched it vanish into the dark recess of the grimy straw.

"I guess I won't be sleeping alone this night after all" I sighed. Collapsing down, even the groans and chores of snores could not keep my eyes from closing.

I blinked quickly rubbing my eyes vigorously until they stung; the room had melted into a featureless gray plain. I was standing in the simple shift of the faithful. The wind howled bitterly whipping up cold gray ash scourging my skin. A ridge of rock broke the skyline in the distance. With my teeth chattering I walked slowly toward the ridge drawn as a moth to flame. Time had no meaning here. Had I been walking for a minute, an hour perhaps days? I arrived with out notice, I simply appeared. Before the ridge three deep calm pools each lay indifferent to the winds fury. Silently with a black serpentine motion each congealed arising as a hooded dark shape. Moving as one they swayed, twisted, their writhing hands grasping and wresting very air itself. The winds shrieked as if being torn in two and with a clap of thunder the three vanished. In their place were two small objects, a leather pouch and a small-carved figure. The figurines shape was vaguely human, the outline blurred from a darkness that drank in the very light. Next to the figurine sat a pouch with the promise of golden coins with in.

After a time I drew in a deep breath, steeled myself and reached out gingerly to touch the statue. I gasped and quickly snatched back my hand. My fingers glistened from a thin layer of frost where I had brushed against the statue. Tears sprang unbidden from my eyes as the fingertips burned painfully from the statues unearthly chill. I sat in silence shivering as the pain of my fingers slowly abated. After a time and with some trepidation I reached out for the coins lightly brushing the soft leather of the pouch. Quickly I snatched my hand away my heart pounding furiously. After a moment still shaking I reached out with more certainty and grasped the coin-pouch firmly. I picked it up spilling out the heavy gold lions into my palm. As the gold pieces fell each shimmered, stretched and twisted into tiny golden viper sinking its fangs deep with in my outstretched hand.

I awoke with a scream, clutching my hand. Angry glances and a few veiled curses quickly silenced my pain. My arm hung limp as my side. I gathered both my wits and what few meager processions I possessed and made the long walk upstairs.

[gathera]

The inn was as it is always, busy. Few paid me little notice, yet one more drifter in Isinhold. I slumped into a chair looking about the smoke filled room. A drunk wheedling Kale for yet one more beer, the locals jabbering on about the trivialities of there meaningless lives and something else, something a great deal more.
Three strangers sat talking in hushed tones. A staff adorned by a blue radiance carefully placed with in quick reach marked one as a wizard. A Vassain by his dress, his cold dark eyes continually scanned the room. He was a northern wolf among the cattle.

The second man wore a simple dark Spartan robe. His shaven head and well worn pray beads marked him of a man of faith. It was his arm that caught my attention. The stark contrast of white on black drew my eyes towards it. Withered pallid flesh was seemingly wrapped tightly around the bones of his arm. He lifted the tankard to his lips accompanied by the soft sigh of the whispering clicking of his arm.

The third man sat silently as his hands lithely moved in a rhythmic pattern moving a small wicked blade about his knuckles. With a cold smile the blades dance would suddenly halt with the knife blade pointing at some unwitting patron. With practiced indifference a new rhythm started again.

Annoyed by the whining drunkard and fascinated by the three I snatched up my cup and sat brazenly across from them watching the three intently. The three men looked over my way.

Louder than needed the Vassian declared, " We leave to the east this night”. With that each of the men casually donned a black hood. The three stood as one, glanced over to me once more and somberly walked out of the room.

My heart skipped a beat as I watched the three depart. My mind raced it had to be I thought, as the dream foretold. I waited until the count of ten then slowly headed out the door. The night air was crisp and I could see the three slowly making there way to the eastern gate. After a moment the guard cracked open wooden gate enough for the three to pass. I paused watching the three disappear up the path. Gathering what courage I had and leaving most my common sense behind I darted up to the gate. The guard said nothing merely held his hand out.

“Sorry” I muttered, “Here…here this should cover it”. I slipped a few coins into his outstretched palm and squeezed though the gate. I did not have far to go. The three stood relaxed waiting for me. The group was bathed in radiance of the wizard’s staff. Its soft light casting flickering shadows eerily about the three.

“We thought you might follow girl” The Vassian called out. “Come closer, if we wanted you dead you would be”. Quivering I hesitantly walked toward the three. “A name have you girl”? The Vassian asked with a smirking grin. I looked at him for a moment quietly gathering my thoughts. A wrong answer here would undoubtedly cost me my life. My eyes were drawn to emerald green ring the Vassian wore. He gripped his staff tighter growing impatient

“Jade then” I quickly replied, my eyes gazing at the ring.

“Clever lass you at least have wits about you. Jade will do” he spoke with a final clarity. The small smile of his eyes gave me some relief that for the moment my life was secure. "Of course the question as to why you have followed remains".

"Perhaps I was sent or maybe just … curious,” I offered quickly. He seemed to accept this and motioned me closer. I stepped closer to the three.

“Prove useful and you might find a few lions fall your way,” the Vassian offered. I nodded and the four of us set off down the vale. After some time walking in silence the thief quickly raised his hand quickly and pointed ahead.

Several orc sentries stood clustered about a small smoky flame. The rattle of dice and loud cheers broke the still of the night. So engrossed in the game they paid little attention to the four shadowy figures carefully winding their way up the hillside. The leader raised one hand triumphant in victory, only to gasp bewildered as a wicked blade sprouted from the orcs' throat. Scant seconds later cross bow quarrels with there low deadly hum appeared in the chest of two more spinning them full around with the force of the blow. The last orc desperately trying to shake off one too many drinks uttered a curse only to be cut short. The creatures’ eyes widen with alarm as its own very shadow gripped its neck throttling its outcry. Desperately the orc clawed at the cold hands holdings it in a vice like grip. The orcs eye bulged, its muscles cording as it strained to break the hold. I watched as the orcs struggles slowly ceased while its skin turned an ashen shade of grey. It was not a clean death. I watched in silent amazement as the shadowy creature melted once more back into the darkness of the night.

"Gather up the winnings, seems we had the lucky roll this night" the Vassian wizard softly chuckled.

With a small cackle and a practiced move the thief bent down retrieving his knife and the bets. His boot kicked the large orcs hand and a second set of dice rattled out into the dust. "Cheaters never proper. Do they?" he smirked.

With the sentries gone we slipped quietly into the rank cave that marked the orc-bands lair. The stench of rotting filth filled the air. Ahead in the flickering torch light two orc sentries stood leaning on their spears softly snoring. They would never wake. The main group of the orc band still laid ahead the noise of shuffling feet echoing from ahead.

[gathera]

The Vassian wizard raise his hand and quietly intoned “Give me space”. Carefully he opened a pouch from within his robe taking out what appeared to be a small cocoon. Grasping it in his hand the Vassian began a rhythmic chant that marked the beginning of a spell. With the last soft syllable straining from his throat the Vassian sunk to his knees, doubling over in agony. His skin shimmered in the darkness thickening with a hard grayish sheen. Incredibly the wizard body grew, gathering mass from the very air itself. His muffled gasps of anguish were quickly replaced by the soft clicking of mandibles. The wizard stood up tentatively gaining familiarity with his new form, more insect than man. With a staccato burst of hissing that must have passed for a laugh the abomination strode forward into the chamber. Sauntering into the torchlight the orcs to a man were drawn into shocked silence. With a soft clicking of his mandibles the wizard drew back a claw slapping it into the nearest orc. The orc cascaded into the wall the side of the creature’s head pulped from the force of the blow. Chaos erupted as the orcs snatched what ever weapons that lay close. An archer got off a few quick shots only to howl in amazement as his arrows shattered on the harden shell of the beast. Those few orcs close enough to take a desperate swing faired little better as weapons merely scrapped and blunted against the chitinous torso. The Vassian in his new form easily strode across the room scattering orcs in his wake and with savage claws reached out snapping the archer in two. The remaining orcs wide eyed ran clambering over each other in a desperate attempt to flee down the tunnel. A reddish hued light flickered briefly from further up the corridor soon followed by gargled screams. Wide-eyed and whimpering the few remaining guards huddled together shivering unable to escape death from either direction. “Quick work”, I stated, discharging my quarrel pinning one to the floor. The other two of my group merely nodded as more quarrels spouted from the chest of the few remaining orcs.

The Vassian hissed twice and pointed down the tunnel. We followed quietly, gingerly stepping over the fallen. We did not have far to go. The crudely carved tunnel opened into a dimly lit chamber. A large orc framed by a few remaining trusted captains was all the remained.

In broken common “What youse wants, jus bez friends heres" he answered nervously glancing at us. With a contorted hiss the insect-wizard form melted away congealing back once more into the Vassian wizard. The Vassian was still for a moment as he regained his bearings.

“The brotherhood merely wishes sends you its fondest greetings”. With that wizard extended his hand blowing a small flame outward. The nearest orcs screamed as flames erupted engulfing the front ranks. Several bodies collapsed in a smoldering heap. Shaken the few orcs remained fought with desperation of ones who knew the end was near. Two rushed towards me swords with swords drawn. With quick aim, more luck than skill my quarrel struck one full in the chest sending him skittering down. His orc mate grunted as his sword hummed through the air. Desperately I flung myself back stumbling on the slicked floor. Gasping as the orcs blade traced a small red line across my arm. Raising his sword he moved in for a killing stroke. A look of stunned amazement briefly cross the creatures' face as it slumped dead to the floor. The thief glared at me as he jerked his sword free turning to face the few remaining guards. Grimacing I rose wavering on unsteady feet willing away the pain and nausea. I began slowly the rhythmic chant marking the beginning of a spell. The familiar cadence of the words lent me strength. I could feel the connection to the aether meticulously build, slowly, cautiously. I could see the strands of nebulous aether my hand twisting to gathering several with in my frame. Squeezing them tightly my hand flicked them outward releasing the arcane energies gathered. Silvery white light coursed through the air to strike another of the orc guards. The creature gasped from the artic cold collapsing. Its flesh withered to a waxy green where the spell had struck. Scant time had past and now only the leader remained. The thief stepped lightly forward advancing on the leader cautiously. The orc lead with a wild powerful swing of his axe. Deftly the thief darted aside and with a twist of his wrist his short sword slide it up over slicing open the orcs hand. The orcs axe clattered to the floor and wild eyed the orc leader stood alone and unarmed. With rasping breath the Orc leader gasped, “Parley”.

“Parley” chortled the Vassian raising his hand, “parley…pray continue”

“Me has key ta room, ya ya key” grimacing the orc leader replied. “Me gives ya it, youse four youse no kill I”. “I gives ya key, much gold ...much, but ...no kills I, I hides it never find it …never”.

With a sneer, “Why not” replied the Vassian.

“No…no bez him that swears, on the skull”. Ya ya dat skull” the orc replied pointing towards the priest. The priest and the Vassian exchanged a knowing look. The priest smiled “Acceptable, then by the Liche lord the. …Four of us will spare you”. A crocodile had a warmer smile I thought to myself, but the orc leader seemed to trust the oath. He dragged himself over to a small alcove and with a twist a small iron key popped into his hand.

“Theres it bez…takes it, youse four youse spares me”, the orc pleaded with a desperate edge to his voice.

“Of course my good sir” the cleric softly replied, “ The four of us by the Liche Lord will shall indeed spare you”. “Give me the key if you would my good man”.

The orc tossed to iron key across the room and slumped to the floor content to be merely alive. With a startled gasp the creatures face contorted, slender black fingers reached out from the wall to entwined about its neck. Wide-eyed with fear the orc tried to break the iron grip of its unseen assailant. I stood watching as a dim reddish hued glow briefly washed over the orc. A shriek tried to form in the orc leaders lips only to be cut short by the eldritch glow. The once leader quietly slumped to the floor. Thin tendrils of frost marked where the shadow creature had gripped the orcs’ neck.
"Bargain ...kept" the cleric replied with a chuckle. The cleric turned to me, “You have been watching my little friend most closely this eve” the cleric replied gazing at me. “Do you wish a …closer look perhaps”? “Remain still the cleric barked. Tentatively I approached the creature. It was barely visible in the gloom of the chamber, a flicking shadow drawing in the darkness of the room. An unnatural chill radiated from the beast but it was the creature’s eyes that held mine. The stark white orbs that gleamed with a baleful haunting look. It was the glimmer of malignant intelligence that was most chilling. I could sense the creatures’ inner struggle longing to consume me held only in check by the clerics iron will. Tentatively I raised my hand towards the creature, my fingers outstretched. A wave of numbing coldness kissed the tips of my fingers. Steeling my resolve and blinking away the stinging tears I reached out to touch its’ essence. It was like an oily mist, growing more tangible by the second. Gasping I could feel a small portion of my very soul drawn off, consumed by the creatures unnatural chill. Quickly snatching my hand back, my fingertips rimmed glistening silver with frost. My eyes filled with water as feeling once more poured back into my hand while I stood shivering staring at the ebon darkness of the shadow. I permitted a small smile to grace my lips; I had done what few had ever dared, for the briefest of moments to touch the very essence of the night. The creature slowly turned its head to towards me and for a scant second the darkness melted quietly away revealing its wicked smile. Blinking I stared with my newly found sight watching as the creature dissolved back once more into the darkness of the chamber.
“Satisfied?” the cleric asked breaking my reverie. I merely nodded my head. With that the cleric intoned a word and the creature vanished through a portal. Small motes of ebony still flickered where the creature had once stood. I stood still watching the fading remnants of the portal flicker away.
The Vassian wizard kicked the key over to the thief. “Find what you can,” he stated. The thief nodded gathered snatched the key and in a short time returned. “Traps?” asked the Vassian. The thief nodded and handed over the few sacks, “A crude device but nasty enough”. The Vassian nodded smiling, "not a bad nights work." "We depart to separate ways for now girl" and with that tossed me one of the smaller pouches. "You were useful enough, keep it".
Stammering I replied" No… not this time". "The chance to study the creature was payment enough".
The Vassian seemed taken aback by my reply. The cleric looked hard to me for a brief moment and then nodded to the wizard. With a silent reply between them they left me standing in the darkened corridor. “One step closer”, I muttered quietly, “one step closer”.

[gathera]

There are times when the huddled closeness of Isinhold grates on my nerves and this was one such time. The sky was overcast and the ground damp and slick from the nightly winter rains. The air was crisp; it was the kind of night that makes one seem alive. I set out by myself along the well-worn dirt path. Perhaps not what some would call the wisest of choices but I craved solitude this night. I did not choose a path I merely let the path choose me. Walking in silence the few lights of Isinhold slowly faded into the inky darkness. With the recent rains the ground was damp and spongy and what little light there was cast the ground in a myriad of grey and black shadows.

A misshapen rock loomed just off the road. It was a moss-covered stone buried with in a twisted copse of willow. The trees slowly writhed in the wind their shadows flickering across the stone. “Yes”, I thought to myself, “this place has the right potential”. You could feel the boundaries between the planes were thin here. Steadying myself for the task I slowed my breathing and reached out with my mind. I could seem him waiting, patient, longing to walk this realm once more. With practiced ease I began the slow familiar rhythm of words designed to tear open the gateway between realms. As my words flowed so to his form grew, drawing in the nascent energies of the weave. A coal black hound near to my shoulder height lithely slipped through ebon gate and drew close to my side. “Of course”, I said looking deeply into the beast eyes. I drew forth my dagger and with one swift motion the cold steel nicked the palm of my hand. I could feel the blades sharp kiss and the wet coolness of my offering as it lazily dripped down splashing onto the hounds’ head. The hound simply bowed its head, marking its acceptance of my dominion over it.

Shivering slightly in the cool night air I set about to the task of tending my hand. I tore a small strip of cloth from my cloak and tightly bound up my hand. “I wish to walk the woods this night” I stated to the beast. The creature merely nodded and fell in step behind me.

With my hound at my side I walked in silence enjoying the small quiet sounds of the night. Much of the ancient woods are gone from these lands now. At best a few remnants still struggle to exist, tattered world-weary dimly remembering a grander age. For those that know where to look the ancient magic’s still may be found, welcome or not.

It was not so much seen as felt, the coppery tang of blood clung to the night air. In the dim light a man lay unmoving face down by a small cluster of pine trees. I raised my hand halting our progress. The hound quivered beside me scenting the sharp aroma of the freshly split blood. Quietly I watched and listened to the night for any signs others lay ahead in waiting. Satisfied that whatever had slain the man had long since departed I tentatively approached the corpse. He was a common man by his dress. Wet patches of darker black spoke of his final fate, his heavy woolen clothes in tatters. “Thieves” I muttered placing my boot on the body to roll it over.

Screaming I staggered from both surprise and pain as a vice like grip locked tightly around my calf. I gasped, tendons cracking as the once dead corpse, savagely twisted my ankle throwing me heavily to the ground. The fiends’ long talons racked my leg as I brought my free boot down to smash at its’ face. I was rewarded with the soft crunch of the corpses’ face splintering. Seizing the instant I desperately jerked my leg free of the creatures grip. Rolling free I raised myself to a half standing crouch and drew in a deep breath wincing from the pain of several deep gashes etched along the length of my ankle. I tried to focus, my mind fighting to banish the dull numbering ache of my injuries. Frantically I began to chant gathering the strands of the weave into me as I selected a spell from memory. The creature methodically approached undeterred mindlessly intent on only one thing. It lashed out with its arm. Its’ cold iron-like flesh struck hard against my side knocking me prone. Winded from the blow, my tongue stumbled over the words breaking my connection with the ether. Crying out in alarm the quicksilver tendrils of the ether melted away as a wave of pain wracked my side. The creature ambling forward quickly closed what little ground lay between us. I fumbled at my side desperately trying to free my knife staring wide-eyed at the zombies’ unrelenting approach.

With a sudden start the creatures’ arms jerked wildly as it spun around collapsing beneath the solid impact of a bolt of midnight fur. With a low feral growl the hounds’ jaws quickly closed on the creatures throat. A wet heavy moan briefly escaped the zombies’ lips as it frantically flailed its limbs to rid its self of its new assailant. Its head snapped about with one loud crack the creature shuddered and lay once more still.
I stared numbly at the twisted broken form sprawled out before me. A thin line of deepest mauve flicked into existence around the creatures remains. The witch-fire lazily lapped about the corpse as the eldritch light drew the remains slowly back down once more into the deep dark recesses of the earth.

I glanced once more in the direction of Isinhold. It would be a long slow painful walk back, but one made alive.

[gathera]

A Letter Part 1

My hands reach to massage my throbbing temples, grimacing I rolled over gathering both my wits and meager processions. Another dawn come too far to early, far to fast. “Nothing to be done about sleep now”, I thought to myself. I rose, sleepily wandering over to the basin of cold water. The brisk chill of the water splashing against my face is like a slap, sweeping away the early morning cobwebs from my mind. The sounds of other early risers whisper about the hallways broken only by the shrill crowing of that damnable rooster. I warm myself darkly pondering on the delights of rooster pie as I wind my way downstairs. “Would it arrive this day”, I wondered quietly or would this be like the other days past. “It does not matter what will be will be”.

The inn is quiet for once; even the Lathlander faithful have thankfully left for their dawn prayers. Near the bar Kale bustles about sweeping up the sodden remains of last nights’ drinking.

“You” he calls out, “now quite your durn nagg’n” “That letter, he done dropped it off last night”. He reached down into greasy stained apron and pull out a small sealed envelope, “Here it be, no the worse for wear eh?” Hurrying down the stairs and reverently accepted the damp envelope from his hands.

“Ahem” Kales eyes lingering for a moment on the tall glass jar at the end of the bar.

“Yes … yes of course” I stammered and quickly tossed in a handful of lions into the waiting glass. “ I believe that should be sufficient”. He merely nodded and resumed his rhythmic sweeping of the broom.

With trembling hands I broke the wax seal and unfolded the parchment. In a bold heavy script a name…. the name, the one I required. I quickly refolded the parchment and held it stead. Taking a deep breath to prepare myself, I reached out to gather in the ethereal small stands of the weave. With a small twist, the power flowed into the rune I had crafted, a simple charm to keep the parchment safe. Secure in what precautions I had taken I carefully tucked the document away.

I had my name… but was it is the right one? What if he was misinformed or simply picked the name of a rival, what if it was not correct? With such a mistake the best I could hope for would be a quick death. A thousand doubts and worries plagued my thoughts. There was little choice; the information must be verified… but how?

I knew that I had little choice now; the answers I sought were in Red Mist.

[gathera]

A letter Part 2:

The streets of Red Mist were crowded this eve as they were every day now. The huddled masses of the poor and desperate milled about for a chance at the crowns meager offerings of black bread.

I thought silently to myself “Excellent this will make it a simplistic matter to lose myself in the multitudes”. “Just one more hungry mouth comes to Red Mist”. Dim hunger-filled eyes would have scant energy to notice anything this day.

Ahead in the back street lay a small alcove tucked far away from prying eyes. By fortune I had stumbled upon it during a prior trip to Red Mist. Nothing really more than a thin gap between two brick walls. Patiently over the past weeks I had widened it one brick at a time. Slowly it had taken shape until finally at last a nook that someone of slender build could, abet with some difficultly squeeze into. In there I could prepare my ruse quietly and discretely with little chance of discovery.

Everything required for my plan had been meticulously assembled. I had already taken the liberty of preparing the robe. Weather worn and stained it would blend me in well with the locals. Quickly I tugged the garment over my head. My nose wrinkled at the stale musty odor of sweat and dirt that still lingered on it. This was perhaps the easiest part of my deception. Reaching inside my pack I gently removed a small wooden box and carefully set it down beside me. Inside was an array of brightly coloured vials, bits of wax, locks of hair and a small selection of fine steel instruments. Taking a few moments I gingerly and with some trepidation selected four marked vials.

The first contained several small orange coloured nuts. I popped one small morsel into my mouth and began to chew vigorously. Its bitter taste was enough to bring tears to my eyes and I was careful not to swallow the masticated fragments. After a moment I spat out the remnants. A quick glance in a silvered mirror assured me that fruit had worked. My teeth were stained and yellowed as if with age. A prompt grin graced my lips and I opened the next vial pouring a small measure of a clear liquid onto my palm. With a deep sigh I rubbed the mixture into my ebon coloured hair watching sadly as my hair swiftly grew white and brittle under my fingers tips. Steeling my resolve I selected the next vial and poured out a small measure of the thick viscous amber liquid into a spoon. Odorless and tasteless it went down with ease. A cursory glance once more to see that I remained undiscovered and I sat down to wait for the elixir to begin its work. With the first small tingling in my hands I hastily tore off a strip of cloth and wedged it tightly between my teeth. I could feel the sensation being to intensify like the first rains before the summer storm. With each second passing the pain grew until it seemed my very skin would burst into flames. Each drop of cold sweat languishing on my brow was marked by trail of white-hot torment. My nails drew blood digging deep into my palms while my throat cracked under my muffled screams of agony. Seconds seemed as hours as the alcove shimmered in a pain-induced fog until at last I collapsed in a shivering heap. My arm screamed in protest as I struggled to lift my hand so that I might see my work. I slumped back into the wall my body shook by the peals of muffled laughter. Withered and brown my lustrous pale skin gone. The butterfly had emerged from the chrysalis a worm.

One last vial remained. I stared in silence gathering the courage for the last step. I steadied my breathing seeking the inner calm needed for this last vial. Carefully I unstopped the vial and with a rhythmic tapping dislodged a several small green flecks onto waiting parchment. I selected one of the smaller grains and with the tip of my knife and slide it off into a waiting cup of wine. I stared hesitantly at the cup then meticulously packed my things away. The cup felt cold against my hand, the wines dark red colour seemly drank in the twilight of the night. Slowly cautiously I raised the cup to my lips, my hands quivered for a moment as my resolve wavered. A few small droplets splashed against my face trickling down my cheeks.

“Tears”, a small chuckle escaping my lips. I closed my eyes tight and drained the draught in one fluid motion. It would not take long, either way now. The cup slipped my shaking hands clattering to the pavement. I could feel my heart begin to race quicker faster pounding against my chest. Each heartbeat reverberated echoing in my head as a cold wave of panic beset me. The alcove blurred into a red mist.

“NO” I screeched, NO I HAVE COME TOO FAR”. “I will not... I must not fail”. Stretched out prone on the cold damp bricks I shivered uncontrollably. I forced in a ragged breath and held it for the count of three. Again breath in, exhale, breath, exhale. Time had no meaning my world had collapsed down to that simple rhythm. Again like a chant, my mantra. Nothing else mattered only breathing. Live for the next breath, one breath more. Just make it.

With each wheezing gasp what little strength that remained me returned. Achingly I slowly stood resting my weight on my cane. With a hoarse cackle, “To the temple.”

[gathera]

The Letter Part 3

I hobbled along haltingly, weaving my way through a maze of uneven cobblestones that marked what passed now as a road. In the distance the gray fluted stone steeple of the temple beckoned, an unwavering herald of past happier times. Crumbling graffiti choked walls gave a stark reminder of what was today. The temple of Red Mist once a land-marked parish of many faiths laid a crumbling edifice, the product of years of bitter infighting and neglect. Still the strong Iron Gate stood as a silent sentinel, a bulwark to all that must pass. I approached the shuttered entrance: its false majesty was laid low. The once strong steel pock-marked by the cancer of rust. Even gates lock had long since crumbled to dust.

I paused for a moment at the gate to gather my wits and my breath. In the distance two figures lay silhouetted against the church door dimly lit by a few scant flickering candles. Their voices carried across courtyard on the night wind hinting of an animated discussion. Although they sought to be quiet a few scant words of what they said reached my ears.

“I can not give them that. I will not break my trust” her voice rang shrill with anger.
“You are not alone in this you have friends, we can help you.” “I can help you,” he countered seemingly frustrated.

I stood silently trying to discern the figures in the nights gloom. One was a man; blond with piecing blues eyes clad in finely crafted mail lacquered a royal blue and midnight black. His cat-like movements suggested one well use to the weight of heavy mail. His square jaw and tone belied strength of conviction. He stood impassively like a stone against the rage of the sea.

The second figure was that of a woman. A petite delicate frame was topped by fiery red hair. She was dressed in a tasteful blend of pastel pinks, somber orange and gleaming gold. Her eyes flashed angrily at the man and the passion in her voice carried across the courtyard. Even from where I stood it was clear that a storm of emotions raged with in her.

The two became silent with my approach and I called out in a crackling voice, “’elp an old woman if’n yea can. “Dis gate she be a ‘eavy n des old bones nar have de strength”.

The man nodded and marched purposefully over to the gate “There you are miss” and with a cordially smile leaned heavily into the gate for a moment. The massive gate protesting with a groan slowly swung; open rust raining down from its hinges.

“I don’t know what is louder me knees or dat gate” I cackled slowly making my way past them into the courtyard. My body wracked from a coughing fit. “Thank yea kindly sir, may da gods bless de both of youse”.
A warm smile graced the lips of the woman. She looked at me with compassion as one might when seeing a long lost aunt. “May Lathlander walk with you this day.” They both turned together and disappearing into the mist of the night.

I spat out a red tinted fleck of phlegm. A dark smile graced my lips; that was my response to her blessing. I pulled on the latch of the old church door and the great door swung effortlessly open. The warm smell of beeswax perfumed the air and the bustle of adepts could be heard in the background. I stepped in giving myself a moment to acclimatize my eyes to the torchlight with in.

Countless candles stood as tiny practitioners, tiny luminous beacons that filled room with a warm rich golden light. Inside was an unusual mixture of faiths. Icons of several various denominations lay scattered about in a cluttered by yet orderly array of divine trappings. The hour was late but still a few faithful adepts bustled about tending to the never-ending demands of the church. Two figures drew my eyes as they lingered near the pulpit; both were stood in stark contrast to the simple gray wool garb of the priesthood.

The first was a ranger by build and dress. Piercing green hawk-like eyes silently scanned the room taking in a measure of everything. He was one use to seeing things in the keenest of details. A hunter.

The second was a woman; dark hair with supple black rough and tumble leathers well worn and angry green eyes that glowered with an inner flame. She was not an unattractive woman but her face was often marred by a viscous sneer spoiling her looks.

Although weary lines of exhaustion creased his face it was clear that the ranger was watching me from across the room. I paused for a moment, had he seen thought my deception? The elven ranger gaze sharpen, his emerald eyes seemingly bore right into me. A slick band of nervous sweat broke out on my forehead.

“You know Quen dearest, I despise it when you look at other women” Ev replied in a mocking tone breaking the moment. She turned to me giving a glance as if *block*roach had scuttled across the abbey floor. “Where ever did you get that.?…Dress”. “ I have seen sewer rats with finer pelts.” “Make it yourself?” she chided mockingly.

“Beg’n yer pardons m’lady it be a ‘and me-down. Best I kin ‘fford des days” “I came ta talk ta da priest.” “Be called Hestine”. I replied nervously shifting my eyes to each of them.

“That will be the day he will see the likes of you” she chortled “He has retired for the night”. “Quen dearest I have a thirst I hear an ale with my name on it calling me. “ Gods know I could use one after this night”

“Yes Ev… please this is a church, the inn sounds fine.” With a deep sigh he turned to her. “Let’s leave”, upon that they sauntered out, the woman pausing only a brief moment to direct a subtle rude flick of her hand my way as she strode past.

“Thank Tymora she had distracted him, no, no not Tymora it was another”, I thought to myself gaining a certain smug self-confidence. All was proceeding as planned perhaps even better than I dared hoped. I hobbled my way over to a cold stone bench and sat quietly waiting for Hestine to appear. A wracking coughs escaped my lips breaking the quiet stillness of the cavernous hall. My body shivered as the chill of the stone seeped slowly upwards through my bones. Was it simply the coldness of the bench or was it the apprehension of what I must do next. My patience was soon rewarded

For whatever reason the head priest, Hestine had been summoned to the front by one of the pages. Soft pastel colours of his robes that marked him as one of the Lathlanders’ faithful, although his disheveled robe spoke of other events that had happened this eve. It was clear from the haggard lines of exhaustion etched into Hestine’s face that darkness had not surrendered easily to the morning light. No matter I would use that to my advantage. The morning star of Lathlander’s was ascendant here in Red Mist, at least for the moment. I scurried forward as Hestine’s eyes scanned the room obviously looking for another.

“Beg’n yer pardon der father. Yea be Hestine” I asked between harsh coughing spells. He merely nodded hoping that I would trouble him no further. “Tis a pleasure father ta meet yea at last”. “Me niece don n Isinhold, terrible thing eh jus terrible.” “Dat plague she don caught it.” “Twere by your good graces I ‘ear that she be among da livin’ this day.” “I made da walk up o’Red Mist ta thank yea fin n proper like.” “Yea be the one dat sent dis cure I hears tell?”

Hestine with a small degree of smugness replied ” Yes my child I with Lathlanders blessing was able to thwart Talona that eve”.

I seized the moment, my left hand reached down for a small handkerchief secreted away “Thank yea thank yea kindly, she be all dat I have left in da world she be”. Raising the stained scrap of cloth to my nose I trumpeted loudly and crushed a small vial sewn carefully with in. The acrid scent filled my eyes quickly with tears. I stood still the tears tracking down the grim of my face. Then with measured slowness tucked the handkerchief away.

“Here for yea, tis not much but for youse good works” I smeared the tears into the dirt of my face and pulled out a small plain coin purse. As I haltingly moved forward a page deftly stepped in front to take the meager offering. “Bless yea father Hestine ..bless yea. These ol’ bones be a smil’n to have found you at last.”

“Thank you my good woman, but please forgive me”. “I have other pressing matters of faith to attend to”. Hestine sent a silent nod to the page his eyes locking on a finely dressed noble strutting past the door. I flashed a yellow toothy grin bent stiffly and hobbled out. I had confirmed the name; Ranan had not lied after all. I took a deep breath and steeled myself. One last leg remained.

[gathera]

The Letter Part 4 Deliverance

I took in a deep breath, drawing in the crisp night air to steady my shaking hands and thoughts. From my vantage point I could see that the moon had now set over the church wall. It was a fortuitous sign but one that also promised trouble. The deep of night had come and gangs would be out patrolling the streets looking for an easy mark. Through the shuttered gate a few vague forms slowly stirred, predators sensing easy prey was near. I was so close to my goal and frustratingly yet still so far. My shoulders slumped and a wheezing rattle forced its way past my lips. The pack knew that blood was in the air, from recess of the church doorway I could see three hooded men in a slow meticulously fashion saunter up to the iron gate of the abbey. It would be quick and easy sport for them and even rags can fetch a lion or two.

The abbey door creaked on its hinges as another late night parishioner stepped out into the night air. He wore blood red robes tinted by the deepest black although from his slumped shoulders and sagging frame the man had seen hard travels recently. Pausing for a moment he rested wearily on a staff of luminescent azure light. To those that could sense it, the weave surrounding him was almost palatable living entity. A desperate gamble entered into my mind.

“Beg’n yer pardon sir”. My voice quivering, “Kin yea help n’old woman dis night”. “It be far ta da wagons n des streets nar be safe so late.”

My abrupt question snapped him out of his reverie, “Sorry miss forgive me my mind was elsewhere, you said that you needed something this eve”?

My hand slipped inside my pocket and crushed the old handkerchief into a tight ball and I uttered a silent oath; my lady willing that there would be enough of the reagent left still on the cloth.

“Please sir des ol’bones nar walk so fast n’ it be late n de wagons be far” my voice trailing off. I raise my hand bringing the palmed rag close to my eyes. A faint whiff of the acrid chemical rewarded me with a few stinging tears. I swiped my nose against my sleeve streaking the cuff and slipped the handkerchief snuggly away.

“Here here miss, no need for that, I was”. He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another, “ Ahem just heading there myself.” “ I would be more than happy to see you safe”.
“Bless yea, bless yea sir for this good deed”. “Gods bless yea”. I quickly blurted out.
A faint curse echoed across the chapel courtyard as the three men melted back into the shadows. Cold hard eyes stared out from shadowed recesses but they remained where they stood, just watching.

With my new escort in tow I hobbled slowly along heading to the caravan. What few people seen on the streets either quickly scurried off or watched our progress with a careful measured gaze. We made our way slowly back to the caravans, “Bless yea sir be safe n sound I be, bless yea”. He flashed me a tired smile and set off back through the gates. It was a simple enough matter to loose myself in the crowded throngs. My passage previously secured I collapsed coughing into the wagon headed back to the enclave.

They were hard miles and the cold spring rains took their toll on many. It had been several days since Red Mist and I grew weaker daily. It was night when we arrived and a heavy mist from the rains had settled in. I knew my papers were in order and as part of a merchant caravan little trouble would be expected at the gates. The heavy fog was surely a sign as I easily snuck away from the Pridor Emporium to make my way to the temple.

Wheezing hard I slipped through the doors and prepared myself to enter the interior chambers. I was nearly spent and the damp night air often forced a deep wracking cough from my lungs. Lightheaded the alcove swam before me. I set out the gown that I would need to enter. My mind had now that certain clarity that comes from a fever. I set out the robe before me and I steeled my resolve. Fabric of the robe seems as if crafted from lead. Its touch was as sand, chaffing my skin raw. The room spun dizzyingly around me, even the candles soft flickering light seemed glaring bringing tears to my eyes. My knees buckling I stumbled forward into the dimly lit chamber nearly falling. Weaving on trembling limbs the cold dark altar stone beckoned me. The room narrowed, all else mattered not, only the alter wavering before me. One step, another the cold stone floor gripped my feet as if mud. Only the slow shuffling of my feet and the hammering of my heart cracked the still silence of the room. One more step, I willed myself onward, just one more step, just one. The room darkened as motes of buzzing sparkles spun wildly before my eyes. My feeble frame dropped quivering before the ebon stones.

I licked my cracking lips, my voice cracking, “I come bearing that most precious of all gifts, a secret.” “One that Talona will pay dearly to learn.” The gloom inched forward alive hesitant almost quivering in anticipation. “I have a name.” “The name of the priest that thwarted her efforts in Isinhold.” My trembling hand reached inside my robe grasping tightly the small vellum envelope. “The name is yours and yours alone my Lady.” The coppery tang of blood filled my mouth. “yours…alone”

Struggling, the envelope wavered wildly in my hand as I strained to place it on top of the black stones. The thin letter slipped lightly from my fingers and settled gently down a top the flat stone bench. My strength spent I collapsed down in a heap. At first nothing, panic began to set in, had I failed her, had I made a mistake? Wide eyed my gaze was transfixed by the impassioned cold silence of the altar. Then slowly, ever so slowly, the corners of the envelope began to darken and curl. Thin tendrils of the night inched their way across the velum decorating it in a black mosaic until at last the document crumbled into dust.

I lay prone now, trembling violently, the stones of the temple drinking in what little warmth remained in me. My breath came as ragged rasping gasps. My ears buzzed with sound of my heart beating. I stared at my hand bewildered. A strange tickling sensation slowly began to build in my fingers tips. Like a spark to dry tinder the sensation burst across my body. My face contorted wildly as spasms threatened to rip me in two. As suddenly has it had started the sensation vanished, the poison driven from my veins. Gasping I sobbed with joyous laughter. I had done it I had succeeded. It would be months before I felt fit enough make the journey back to Isinhold but I knew in my heart that this night my Lady was pleased.

[gathera]

The Robe Part 1

It was always a simple enough task to reach this place. The entrance lay just before the water at the base of the well. In the past some ingenious soul had strived to widen a small natural crevasse. The fissure lead to a vast network of caves extending far beneath the quaint village delving deep into the dark secret places of the earth. The patient work of time and water had over the eons slowly carved them from the rock. What nature had wroth others hands had slowly perfected. Fortunately I did not have far to travel. With a bit of effort my slender frame could squeeze through into the larger caverns beyond. In my past wanderings here I had by chance discovered a small ledge surrounded by swirling waters on three sides. The ledge was well removed from the beaten path and few things traveled there by choice. In the caverns this place was among the darkest; even the faint wytch fire from moldering slime was absent. It was an absolute darkness here guarded by the cold dark and deep ever-present waters.

I sat cross-legged and reached deep into a satchel to pull out my prize. My fingers buried themselves in rich soft satin fabric. It had been expensive true but I had allowed myself so few indulgences ever since Red Mist. Grinning I reveled in the touch of the heavy drapes of the cloth as it slowly slid across my fingers tips. A scowl broke out across my face as the sensuous slithering of the fabric halted abruptly. The touch was faint but definite, an imperfection in the gown. It was if the languid cloth had grown coarse and stiff.

“Odd” I muttered darkly as my fingers explored the imperfection probing gently along the edge. A definite shape and stranger still a loose thread. My fingers grasped at the unwelcome addition to my gown as I tugged it gently to extricate the orphan thread. To my amazement the threads length grew revealing the fabrics flaw. My fingers brushed lightly against a crisp scrap of parchment cleverly added to the dress.

“A secret then”, I thought both puzzled and amazed as I crushed the small velum into a tight ball clenching it firmly in my fist. Efficiently I bundled the garment tightly away and struck the light of a small lantern.

It was a letter meticulously penned. My eyes quickly scanned the terse script. Beads of cold sweat broke out on my forehead as the blood drained from my face. My hands shook as I quietly read it.

The greatest sin is a secret revealed. All those who are so careless shall fall from her grace. You are to meet me at the island to the south of town at the setting of the moon in two days time. Come alone and be clad in dark clothing bearing a hood and robe. Do not fail me in this.

It was message, a threat and a warning, that and more much more. I had little choice I would meet with this author. They would not live to see the dawn.

[gathera]

The Robe Part 2

It was a simple enough matter to reach the island. Few of the local fishermen would be out this night given the winds and so near dusk. It was not far to the little island in the bay and I fell quickly into the rhythm of paddling the small craft. My arrival was greeted by the ruckus squawking of a few shore birds, voicing their protest. The flat-bottomed boat slid into shore with a firm crunch of the sand. I hopped quickly out and set to concealing the craft in the weeds as best I could. It was a good spot, an open clearing with a copse of trees near the shore. Hidden in the trees I should easily be able to spot any approach to the island. I knelt down making myself as comfortable as one could. The suns last rays painted the sea a blood red. “A fortuitous sign” I thought darkly to myself. The night airs were damp and chill. I sat wrapping my cloak tight around me trying not to let the chattering of my teeth give my position away. I was on edge and the small constant rustling and scurrying of the wildlife did little to settle my nerves. The moon had now set, what ever was to happen it would not be long now. Grimacing I shifted my leg relieving the pressure of a twig sticking painfully into my side. I blinked, a shape hovering in the night. My eyes strained to make out the details, far too large for a bat, yet still winged and most disturbingly vaguely humanlike. I cursed my luck who ever this was would be both dangerous and clever. The creature would find me …eventually and my curiosity was aroused. I stiffly I rose and hailed the creature.

“Your late”, hissed the beast. The creature was indeed winged with a continence of a red skinned wizened lecherous old man. Lightly dancing through the air it brazenly advanced closer to me. My nosed wrinkled at faint sulfurous fumes. It was with out question a vassal of the Hell’s. I was taken aback for a moment pausing, wondering exactly as to who could have sent this. The creature cackled with malicious glee sensing my trepidation. “Mistress caught a fine young bird in her net”. “Maybe she will give this one to me” as it rubbed its hands together leering wickedly at me. “A pretty one, I like the young pretty ones best”. “Follow me my pretty” with a flick of its wings it streaked past me whizzing by.

I did not have far to go but the pace set by the imp allowed me little respite to think. “How”? I muttered to myself as the sharp edge of panic crept into my thoughts. How could I have missed both of them? Beads of cold sweat broke out on my forehead as my breath caught in my throat. Ahead the letters author stood motionless standing like an ebony pillar on a flat grey rock. She was dressed in a simple plain dark frock, her face well shadowed by a deep hood. I was clearly expected.

The imp cackled with glee, “That worthless simpleton slug my mistress, finally is here”. The faint glimmer of a smile flashed briefly from beneath her cowl. “Ah child come closer we have much to speak of you and I.” “I see you have met Avarice, my able servant.” With that the imp took a deep bow mid air hovering near to her shoulder. “Avarice once was a man with quite the taste for the finer things in life and of course his penchant for children”. “That however is his past, it is your future that I wish to speak of this day.” With that she turned to the imp and curtly intoned “See to it that we are not disturbed Avarice”. Scowling deeply the creature nodded its understanding departing slowly leaving the two of us standing alone.

The shadows were deep here and carelessly she had sent her servant too far away to be recalled quickly. A dark cold smile crossed my face. “I have done as you asked, alone and unarmed.” I purred. “I am at your…. mercy”. My eyes shuttered tight as my mind reached out to cross the misty barrier. It was mere child- play to part the curtains between his world and mine. As always he was faithful to my beckoning call, easily stepping through the conduit my mind had created. “Your blackmail ends here”. I turned to the coal-black hound, “Kill her.”

The animal ruby eyes glimmered but he did not move a muscle. I turned to the beast “I gave you a command, obey me,” I hotly stammered. My anger welled up spilling out, “KILL HER NOW!” With a dismissive flick of his head the hound languidly sauntered over, curling himself contently about her feet. I staggered as if struck. My mind drew numb “what, how?” Dumbfounded I stared blankly at the incredulous sight trying to fathom reason, any reason. The letters’ author merely smiled absentmindedly ruffling the animals’ coarse jet fur.

It was a moment of transcendent enlightenment, it had happened only once before and now it was here again clear to my eyes. The very night itself had seemly coalesced around her, a living breathing enveloping nimbus. Thin tendril of jet twisted and writhed in a macabre dance about her.

Speechless I dropped trembling to my knees. With a cruel smile she smirked, “I see you at least know your place”. With slow deliberation she inched ever closer until at last halted in front of me. Her hand swung back striking me full across my face dropping me senseless to the ground.

I shook the cobwebs from my head and struggled to rise. “I did not give you permission to rise” as she slapped me again hard drawing blood. “Learn this well sister, reveal secrets only to fellow members of the faithful”. She knelt down grasping my hair and brutally tugging my head up close to hers. “Obey and never speak out against ranking clergy.”

“You will not be damaged further, I have plans for you, sinner”. ”Clean yourself and return to Isinhold. “Do not speak of this” the cold tone of her voice sent chills down my spine. “I shall contact you when I have use of your meager talents.” “Now go”

I staggered to my feet a bit wobbly but with my life intact.

[gathera]

A Journey: The Dark

Yet another mornings' first light and once more the all too familiar dull ache in my joints had returned with a vengance. I never had fully recovered from that night in Red Mist. Grimly I thought to myself all power has its price. I cringed rising from my bed it would be especially bad today. This early and already the mere touch of fabric was enough to send a thousand hot needles of pain dancing across my skin. Thank the gods I had the foresight to measure my doses last eve. I flicked a small greenish hued crystal into the dregs of last eves sour wine and downed the mixture. The effects were almost immediately in arriving. I could feel the slow familiar burn of the poison spreading out through my veins. The spider venom was fast in its actions thank the Dark Lady. Even now the trembling of my hands slowed as the haze of pain dispersed like the morning mist before the sun. It was a blessing that the spider venom was so readily obtained in these lands. Loathed as I did the fetid stench of the Red Mist sewers I could always count on a ready supply of the spiders to be found down there.

I gathered my things and prepared for a trip back to Proskur. Not a far journey but one of the few places close by that carried any semblance of components for my craft. However today I had other business there as well. The travel was slow and uneventful. The cold rains of fall seemed a fitting tribute to my mood as I trudged my way up the path to the temple. I slipped through the massive carved oak doors and quickly shed my rain slicked wear in the lobby. The dry soft silken texture of my ceremonial garb felt good against my skin as I pulled it quickly over my head. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves and entered. The warm rich scent of beeswax candles permeated the air and gave me a sence of comfort. I made my way past several alcoves to a small gloomy niche towards the rear of the complex that was my destination

I knelt down humbly before the amethyst crystal preparing for the familiar ritual to cleanse my thoughts. It was old rote now the familiar breathing, the simple pleasure of chanting, the sense of quiet tranquility. To loose ones self with in the darkness of the chamber was to escape the pains of life, if only for a brief time. The alter was comforting to me, a dark quiet hidden refuge where I could feel at peace with myself. Here even time itself stood still, a meaningless entity before my Lady’s' majesty. Before her image my form seemed a cumbersome pale bloated slug devoid of the sleek ebony essence of the shadows. In here my presence was at best only tolerated, I was an alien essence, a disarranged mote jangling the sensual symmetry of the night. Yet for a time I could shed my reality and merge with the murky gloom. The sensation was not unlike floating in water there was no sense of up down or anywhere. Strange bizarre shapes would flit into existence for the briefest of instants then dissolve back once more into the amorphousness of the night. I had learned through painful experience not to stare overly long at the cavorting images. The tangling twisting forms could jar badly my limited perception of reality.

Still several thin turbid tendrils had gathered within the mauve tinted gloom and to them my attention was drawn. It was unusual for any shape to persist for so long in the inky blackness but the twisting writhing mass grew by the moment. Several of the tendrils languidly drifted towards me in a slow swaying motion dancing to music beyond the means of even my elven ears to hear. The undulating weaving motion continued as several of the threads drew ever nearer transfixing me. The congealed darkness trembling as if alive wavering wrapping around my wrist and drawing me into the mass. I screamed as to burst my lungs but the silence was absolute. The filaments touch was like fire and ice sloughing away my pale flesh in slender sleets. Helpless I could only but gaze at the stark whiteness of my bones winking through the writhing knot of tendrils. A pain-clouded fog threatens to dissolve what little sanity remained me into a madness of absolute agony. Then bit-by-bit the pain subsided. A sense of relief washed over me as tendrils knit themselves to the ragged scraps of my body. I could feel a vibrant energy building within me.

The cool firm hardness of the stone gave me a sense that I had returned. My eyes snapped open, but I shut them quickly blinded by even the few dim candles of the temple. I blinked hard as a cascade of tears ran down my cheeks. After a moment I felt that I might tolerate the light. I gazed down at my hands trembling with trepidation. Slender lithe and even several scars had faded.

Laughing I stood quickly, slough off my robes to stand stark naked before the alter. I had been absolved and more. I danced swirling giddily staring in wonder at my new body as peals of laughter rang from my lips. I was unchanged but I knew I had changed. The poisons that had wracked me had been purged from my body. Consumed by the night. It was the least of my blessings. I could feel them now on the edge of my conscience mind. They called to me as I could now call them. The weave would supply the conduit, a connection to the tendrils. Mine.

[gathera]

Shards part 1

I sat silent in the still darkness of the woods. The moon had just set pitching the woods into deep shadow. A few scurrying nocturnal animals busied themselves perhaps quizzically looking at this stranger sitting here. Even the wind had died down now. All the time I remained quietly chanting waiting for the correct moment. Earlier this eve I had set out the three razor thin shards of amethyst before me. Slowly I picked up the first chip and gripped it tightly between my fingers. I knew what was expected but knowing and doing is not the same thing. A slight hiss escaped my lips as I cut the first pattern into my flesh. The slow melodic pattering of my blood falling drew my mind back to the day’s prior events.

It was not far from town, once an old farm house had stood here but age and weather had reduced the dwelling to a mouldering shambles. All that remained now were rotting planks and a few tell tale mounds. It was in the mounds that my interest laid. Each was still marked by a briar of roses long since gone wild. In its day it would have been almost scenic. Few came here now. I gathered up my courage and taking a deep breath forced myself into the calmness necessary for the task that lay ahead of me. Slowly I walked along, a wraith-like visage weaving my way among the mounds of the old grave-site. With each step I repeated a well-rehearsed chant that would guide me to what I sought this night. A touch of apprehension tinged my voice but I continued on chanting in a slow measured methodical voice. The dead were most unforgiving to those that improperly disturbed their rest. You could feel the weaves strength here rising up through the damp rich earth. A slow rotating sliver of bone held aloft by a slender silver thread set my path. Oblivious to the world I walked along in a shimmering haze of witch sight guided by the slow spinning of the bone. Each few steps I paused to sense if the small bone talisman had "twitched" responding to the latent dormant energies. I continue along at my languidly pace until with a sudden burst of energy the talisman leapt from my hand to fall into the dirt. I permitted myself a small smile this one has strength. Kneeling I began the laborious task of clearing a circle around where the fragment had fallen. I uttered more than a few dark curses cutting away the heavy briar and etching the circle into the ground. In spite of complains my task was finished quickly enough. I shivered in the cool night air, a mixture of sweat and anticipation of the moment to come. I blotting away the sweat damping my forehead I and set down a thumb size egg crafted from black onyx at the circles center. The real challenge would be now. My hand slipped down to touch a small silver flute. All was in readiness. I sat down cross legged before the circle and began to softly play. I have small talent at best but the haunting melody settled my thoughts for the task of opening the conduit. As I played in my mind I fixed each of the words necessary for the incantation and let the formless phrases slip out from my lips into the night air. Thin tendrils of mist now began to gather about the circle writhing to the beat to the flutes chill notes. The last note slipped away to a faint shuddering of the earth. A spiderweb of cracks appeared in the circle center in response to the tremors. The pungent scent of decay filled the air as a plethora of yellowed mouldering bones were vomited up from the damp earth. With deliberate intent the bones wriggled, writhed and crept together into a gnarled knot. Piece by piece the fragments of bone fused and melded together to craft a rough mockery of human shape. It stood twice as tall as a man a massive thing built of the fused remains of several skeletons. Glisten clods of earth slithering down like a soft earthen rain while the ebon stone pulsed beating in time to the song. A dark feral gleam shone in the creatures eyes as it stood still staring at the one who had dared to disturb its rest. hesitantly I rose, "Welcome my servant of the grave" A broad grin broke out across my lips. Yes, tonight would be special.

[gathera]

Shards part 2

I paused for a moment to wipe the blood from my fingers on the grass. My hands trembled for a moment but I willed the dull throb of my pain behind me. With a practiced grip I closed my eyes and felt the sharp sting as the second shard bit into my flesh.


Moonlight splashed across the ridge that over looked the roadway. The shattered wreckage of a few carts stood as a grim reminder to the strength and savagery of the ogres that often preyed upon this stretch of roadway. Here, yes here is where I thought to best test my new servant abilities. The night skies were clear and the moon gave more than sufficient light to make my way up the pathways dotting the ridge. Clad head to toe in flowing heavy robes I slowly picked my way up the ridge silently looking for any tell tale signs of my prey. What ever faint noise I might have made was drown out by the resonating footsteps of my servant. Still the arrangement suited me well, the creatures ungainly gate and lumbering stride easily attracted attention away from myself allowing me often to approach undetected. I stopped half way up the slope and knelt down in the tall grass. I raised up my hand motioning my servant to stop. The creature stood stock still its feral eyes balefully glaring in resentment. From this vantage another senses would serve me best to scout out the terrain and he was never far. To the ogres it would be just another small bat flitting about the night sky.

I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing to gather the weave about myself. I could feel the warm presence of his mind and his primal revelation of the hunt. It was a simple enough matter to slip my mind into his concisenesses. Instantly I could feel the chill night air streaming against my/our skin. The exhilaration of the effortlessness and grace dancing about the nighttime sky nearly claimed my focus. It was with a touch of sadness I summoned him away from his world to serve me in mine. On soft silent wing I/he surveyed the ridge. Three lumbering massive shapes were circling about as if searching for some one along the ridge crest. With a sharp gasp I broke the contact swaying from the sudden sense of vertigo as I returned once more back to my cumbersome earth-bound form. My lips pursed together in annoyance, I had been discovered, some how. I calmed the anger of my thoughts. I had surrendered to these brutes my advantage. Little could be done about that now. The ogres to my good fortune had spread out trying to detect who or what might be present. I reached a snap decision, clearly if I could move rapidly enough all three could be dealt with before my position became hopeless. I crept slowly using as best I could the small shrubs that dotted the hillside. Silhouetted against the moon one of the beasts lumbered about still unaware of my presence. The creature halted peering down the ridge towards the road. There would be no better chance than this. I released my servant to his blood lust and flanked wide to approach the creature from the other side. The skeletal creatures heavy footsteps rang out in the night air but the ogre in its dimwitted fashion merely mistakenly mistook my creation for one of its comrades. The skeletons club arced through the air pulping the unaware ogres head knocking it senseless. I sprinted over and sunk an arrow deep into the helpless creatures throat silencing it forever. The remaining two ogres grunted in alarm milling about in confusion. They seemed torn between charging myself and rushing headlong down the road. A brief smile graced my lips; my servant settled matters for them rushing forward towards the brutes. My exhilaration fled on the sight of another pair of brightly lit travelers rapidly approaching up the road. The unmistakable jingling of heavy mail accompanied by the heavy grunting of exertions promised only trouble for me. Perhaps the ogres could keep these meddlers busy allowing me time to flee. I snatched my flute from its satchel drawing it to my lips for one harsh resonating note. A crackling cry escaped from my skeletal servant as from one step to the next it collapsed into a heap of mouldering bones. My time here had ended. I would have but a scant moments to place what ever distance I might between me and the travelers I could.
Cursing my misfortune I picked my way down the slope as fast as I might. A copse of trees was nearby and with luck I could loose them in the light brush.

[gathera]

//Although it happened quite some time ago (Yes Yes I am slow) I would like to thank the two other players involved. It was a great bit of RP'ing so take a bow you two. As to who .... well you will just have to read it now won't you *chuckling*. The story taken from the chat logs with adaptation.

Shards part 3

My arms ached with a lancing numbing pain from each of the runes of penance had so carefully etched. Waves of pain and nausea wracked my body but I had to continue. There could be no failure this time. Trembling I bit my lip hard drawing blood and spoke the harsh foul words required. Shrieking in agony I stared wide-eyed at the black oozing acid slowly seemingly seeping up from the cuts. The reek of burning flesh assaulted my nostrils but I persevered. Wavering I continued the malignant chant as a waves of darkness threaten to sweep me under. Shimmering murky ebon-hued flecks flitted and danced about my eyes as my head buzzed with the rasp of thousands of imaginary insects. With the last word I collapsed doubling over wrenching coughing as if my lungs might burst. Shivering I lay prone in a pool of my vomit tormented by waves of pain and yet through all of it, quietly softly a sibilant voice languidly whispered in my ear.

"This once".

I was forgiven.


Curse the luck I thought bitterly, even with the darkness and rains that damnable light grew with each passing moment. Clearly I could not out run the figures. Ahead a small copse of trees loomed in the night. With luck they might miss me so I stopped and simply waited squatting down beneath a small aspen. I did have long to wait as the pair following me descended downward into the small hollow. A wave of golden light surrounding the pair washed away the night. In the lead was a human male. He was a striking figure with long flowing golden-brown hair. He was dressed in a simple greens and brown tunic covering travel worn mail. His amber eyes shifted warily about the glen until at last resting on my hiding spot. With a wave of his hand he motioned his companion forward. He was an elven warrior and one tall for his race. The elf was simply dressed in a sky blue hooded tunic bearing a silver crescent moon across his chest. Long thick raven black locks cascaded down while piecing gold-flecked emerald eyes positively glowed with rage. He simply nodded to the human as picked his way down the slope. I blinked several times my eyes stinging from the pre-natural glow of their enchantments.

I stiffly rose to meet them both. "I am hunting and your light has spoiled my chances, do you mind"?

The elven male fumed and slowly and tersely replied " You use the dead to do your deeds” A cold crisp anger burnt in his eyes, "I should strike you down where you stand".

A small smile played about my lips for a moment as I watched his rage, "I am afraid I don't know what ever you are referring to". "As you can plainly see I am quite alone here, however not any more it seems". "Would you care to join me perhaps seeing how you have now scared off any game for leagues”?

The human looked at me for a moment then blurted out in a rich baritone voice "Do you command the dead"

I simply shook my head no, "No, I am merely hunting wolves, ... alone". "There is a pack near here, one that has been raiding".

The human paused and looked to the elf for a moment, "That part is true my lord Vinduil, there have been reports".

The Vinduil glared at the human silencing him, "Enough of this facade, she lies remove your hood at once." "I will see your face, now"!

Nodding once I rolled down the heavy thick brocade of my hood and demurely smiled to the elf. "Of course" I replied with a slight curtsy and mocking modesty. "After all I have nothing to hide my lord".

Vinduils’ face darken in rage as a deep frown etched his features, "Jade" he spat out as if the very word itself was bitter to his mouth.

"My lord the other creature", the human interjected, " I saw a small bat amongst the ogres as well.... is that your animal"?

A coy smile crossed my lips, "My dear sir is it night is it not"? "Bats are found here often.... No"? "I have heard it said even in Isinhold it is a rather common sight in the late fall".

Flustered the man replied, "Why are you stating the obvious Milady".

Vinduil raised up his hand. "She is trying to convince us they are not hers". "Failing, but she persists". "Lucky you dismissed that ..Thing". "She is a disgrace to her kin, that's what she is. No Tel'Qussir would willingly deal with the dead".

The human shook his head to clear a few strands of hair from his head and persisted on. "Are you a weaver Milady and I don't mean baskets".

Smiling I tilted my head to once side and replied, "I have a small talent with a loom, but of course it has been years now."
.
The human angrily retorted, "I meant magic not textiles". He rocked back and forth on one foot trying to contain his anger

I continued to demurely smile. "I have at best a modest talent, a few simple charms at best."

The elf Vinduil looked on coldly the rain running rivets down his face. He simply stared tempering an inner furry until at last he spoke. "Do you even understand what repercussions will come of you dealing with the dead"? "Arvandor will be barred forever for you". "You have been warned. The People will not stand for one of their own disgracing our race".

I simply watched both of a moment with an air of dispassion. "Of course if that was ever indeed the case it would be so". " I have however always been one accustomed to a solitary life." "I was walking the roads quietly as to best I could to avoid undue attention". " During my walks I came across the ogres then made quickly fled making my way back here". "I am not a fool to risk them catching sight of me". "Any ogre would make short work of me."

Vinduil seethed in rage gripping his bow so tightly the blood left his hands. "This is going nowhere" he spat out. "Know that 'my' kin will hear of you, Jade, and you are disgracing the People by your actions." "Come Navaren".

I simply bowed to both. "Tell them what ever story you wish Lord Vinduil'. I watched in silence the rain trickling down the back of my neck. I had been careless, far too careless this night. I had let a secret slip out. I shivered for a moment in the cold damp air. There would be a price to pay for this but not to that pompous fool, another would demand payment.