Jegan the Vaunted

[Orkid]

What Goes Around...

"Je-egan , Je-egan, Je-egan's a gi-iant!" Even now the sneering jibes still rattled in her head, but now instead of bringing tears to her eyes it brought a throaty chuckle to her lips. They would know just how right they were before too long... Now the taunts of over a decades age were her fuel, pushing her down this cold, stone street that she knew was her destiny. Men in rags and pimps in windows leered at her as she walked in the late night moon's light. She was used to the eyes of men on her, for even though she was large as an adolescent, she was now a 6' leggy, darkly-pretty woman. Her years of study as a priestess hardened her body and mind into surprisingly deadly tools. It had taken no small effort to pay lip-service to Kelemvor during the day with other devouts, while directing her accumulated knowledge to midnight prayers and devotions towards Velsharoon. For she knew that was where true power lay, in that shadow between life and death , master these bastard twins of existence and nothing could stop her.

It was in her later studies of this pursuit that she learned of the Cult. It was one thing to discover their existence, while it isn't general public knowledge that they truly exist, it isn't hard to find mention of the Cult of the Dragon in ancient texts on the undead. These texts made it clear they did in fact exist and actually were most prevalent in the northern reaches, like around the area of her home on the Vaasa plain. "What luck!" ,she had thought to herself. This is what brought her to the filthy alley-ways of Melvaunt, this stinking street leading up to this door, now before her, of an unparalleled den of iniquity. She wasn't sure if she should knock or just go in, there was no directions to read, no etiquette to be found on the matter of seeking out a secretive, evil society. So upon taking a deep breath and donning her most wicked, "don't-mess-with-me" scowl, she pushed the door inward and took her first step towards her destiny...

The room was thick with the smoke of headie herbs and tobacco alike, as well as the wet, stale stench of split alcohol and sweat. Perhaps a dozen eyes turned on her as she stepped in confidently and shut the door behind her. All conversation ceased except for the drunken ramblings of a few derelict winos, and even these shut up after their suddenly accentuated inebriation was made known. There was about 12 men, 3 women, 2 serving wenches and the bartender in this front room , all of which she avoided eye contact with except the barkeep, who she fixed her eyes on and strode directly to. "Kin oi gitchya sumpin, missy?" , he sneered through a mostly toothless maw, his breath reeking of... foulness. She replied quietly and confidently, "My hand supports the black flame, and my eyes seek its source." Whatever he was about to say, he stopped mouth poised to speak, appraising her anew he said, "Come agin, lassy?" , looking at her carefully. Teeth clenched she hissed, "I did not stutter!" By this time the patronage had gone back to their previous engagements, only a few carefully eyeing the tall , cute out-of-towner while working on getting drunk.

The barkeep squinted at her, breathing heavily through his nose , he pointed to a door off to the sidewall of the bar, no one was seated within two tables radius of that door. Jegan flashed him a tight lipped smile and said, "Thanks" before pulling her cloak up around her shoulders and walking carefully to the door. She could see it had a peep-slot as she reached up and knocked on it, 1-2 pause 3-4... She held her breath for what seemed like an eternity but was actually only a handful of seconds, before the slot slid open and a pair of crooked eyes stared at her, "Oi?" , the eyes grunted. "My name is Verathe, devout of Velsharoon, I seek the source of the flame.", she breathed out the phrase, perhaps just a bit too rushed. The eyes squinted at her , then looked beyond her to the bar, apparently satisfied the door swung inward...

The eyes belonged to a hulking , bald man, taller than her, who had a surprisingly kind smile, "Sit 'ere, deary.", he said in a low rumbling voice, motioning to a chair. He then disappeared behind yet another door , this one heavy and wrought with iron bindings. Jegan collected herself while he was gone, which was for five minutes or more. When he returned, he offered his hand and said, "Come along , deary." She took his calloused hand, with a turn of his hips and a heave, he slung Jegan against the far wall, her vision dimmed...

[Orkid]

Full Circle

She was stunned , but cogent enough to reach towards the shadow of a nearby table, with a great effort of will and a quick plight to the negative plane, she had summoned a being of negative energy that immediately took action upon her assailant, who was pawing at the cloak twisted about her. He barely had time to turn and face the shadow being before it struck him, his face twisted into a grimace and his knees buckled slightly as part of his very strength was sapped from his body. He knocked the shadow down with a quick blow from his fist, but just after this , Jegan was already on her feet, mace in hand from the hangar on her hip. A powerful strike sent the man sprawling onto the shadow-less table which shattered under his sudden weight. Nearly in tears , wild with fear, she and her shadow stood over him , both her hands white-knuckled on the heavy mace's grip, as she seethed. He held up both hands backed against the wall, and a grin split his face, " Okay , okay, missy ... just 'ad to make sure ya were da real deal... settle down." He rubbed his bleeding head as he stood and opened the heavy wooden door, Jegan's shoulders sagged and she breathed heavily as he walked down a set of stairs.

She followed him, with no small amount of caution, hand resting on the pommel of the mace, swinging in its hangar. At the bottom of the flight of stairs he took the left turn of a long hallway extending both ways. Maybe sixty feet down it , near the end, he turned to a door and swung his arm towards it, "'Ere ya be..." She opened it , never taking her eyes from him until she stepped in.

A ruggedly handsome man sat in a large, ornate throne-like seat. There was a nearly naked woman hanging on his left leg, and a fully naked woman petting his right arm, over the arm of the chair. The room was dimly lit and he said, "Come closer my dear Vaunted, you no longer need fear anything." She obeyed and , timid for the first time, sat on a large cushion he motioned to directly in front of him. Now that she was closer , she could see the beard served to conceal numerous scars , and he spoke, "So tell me, Jegan Verathe," he said the name like he doubted it's accuracy, "why do you wish to become an Unseen Hand?" "So that I might serve the dragonlords and to harness the power of undeath... *clenches her teeth* ... and to show those who ostracized me the error of their ways, I wish to deconstruct their life and all that they hold dear!" He nodded slowly, mulling over her words, a jagged smile came to his face, "Well , I must say, your ambition to find us and effectual handling of Soren speak well of your potential, you must be a very brave girl, very wise. We seek hands like yours my dear, but first you must do something for us..." Jegan knew what would come next, it was fairly well documented that initiates into the Cult would make large sacrifices of sentient souls , proclaiming it in the name of the Cult. She already knew who she was going to offer up to the lich lords, and it was only a few days before she was back in her home town, feeling the closeness of her goal.

There were four households she visited that night. Five of her worst tormentors screamed as their souls were delivered to eternal unrest in the forges of the Undead Kings, these were all peers of hers who had harassed her , and her gravedigger father, for years and years during her childhood. They had shown her this path and she thanked them as they sealed her destiny as a member of the Cult of the Dragon with the passing of their lives into the shadow of death.

Merkiel , as she would come to know the bearded man, had arranged for her exodus from the land, and with a swift boat from Melvaunt, she sailed south out of the Moonsea, through the Dragon Reach and west along the coast of Sembia , all the way through the Lake of Dragons until she docked along the River Tun, in a quaint little villa called Isenhold, in the south of Cormy...

*insert ominous rock music here*