History of William Grimcloud

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William Grimcloud of Waterdeep



Birth - 1357

Born a bastard child unwanted to this world cast out of his womb and his Shou mother into a stable behind a brothel in an unlit backdoor, during the darkest hours of the night, born a harsh reality of being left in a basket under awning and on a stoop.



1358 - With no legitimate birthrights being left to an orphanage would be something likely to happen next, but that is not this such case.

Somewhere along the start of his life he made it to the hands of a smuggler by the name of Mirt, after being pushed around like a pet and treated like a slave the first decade of his life began to show his the dark side of how a life treated like an object can grow twisted and even taint a soul, William finally was treated half-way human, but to him this was the only compassion he had known.



1364 - Sold to his new master Xeno Mirrorman and given a second name "Grimcloud" because his aura is so depressing, he served for the next four years, at age of 8 to 12.

His new duties would have seemed horrific to a normal person, but after a life in a cage getting kicked around and eating scraps, cleaning blood and guts and other bodily remains was a more pleasant activity when thoughts of rewards of dinning with the upper class was the incentive, the food alone but the value one can be worth to the eyes of those with real power.



1368 - In the last seasons before the Fall of Zhentil Keep, William was fast approaching a rise in the Cathedral learning from Xeno's sermons and some upper class manners from watching Lord Chess for a short while before his demise. William often dreamt of being a man who could have no oppressor, walking like a nobleman and learning the code and meaning of "the one true way", his duties became trivial and his hands resembled that of a murderers, and the walls rumbles at the clang of the giants on the gates, the wyrmlings flew through the skies screaming and burning the towers down, their was panic in the streets as the Orc bands and goblins piled in beating thier war drums and skull clackers.



"Then i ascended the spiral stairs to my surprise, it was Xeno Mirrorman my master and compassionate mentor, he was engulfed in a blazing inferno and was melted down to bones and scorched metal, standing before his was Fzoul, and i looked at the face of my masters murderer. I knew i was released from bondage, but he was the only father i knew."



With revenge on the mind of 12 year old William, he didn't stay around to fight, but fled the keep with a few other refugees among the chaos, revenge after all the other evil acts in his life just felt natural, and the thirst for murder was born.

They say only 1500 people got out that day, and over 20000 died that night.



Late 1369 - Wandering the Dalelands in the cold of winter William arrived in Daggerfalls and it was a significant time aswell, this was during the Dagger dale revolt, having set on hard times help was something to fear during times of revolt, and winter, having grown in a place where sympathetic looks go nowhere the only obvious choice was to join the Zhent forces occupying Daggerfalls.

Working and taking orders was not to bad, its like being a slave again but this master offers a blade and a wage given the extortion's are still paying out, once a cowardice population finds courage fear doesn't pay to good.

The next few years offered insight into shakedowns, raids, public executions and other ruthless tactics.



1371 -William's travels led him to a not so far away crossing with his childhood memories in the Deepingdale near Highmoon where his cell was to investigate a palace.

This turned out to be the Palace of Lies operated by the Darkwatch, fanatic's of Cyric that had also fled Zhentil Keep, here they where trying to turn the minds of the Baneites around me and i was in the wrong place, in the exchange of words when the realization had come to me that i was taking orders from the murderer of my Master and the great teacher of the Darkwatch.

That's when this encounter got dirty and i Deserted the Black Army, finding refuge with the ranked Darkwatchmen whom was our target.

With the coin flip the Darkwatch had some hand in helping the citizens of Daggerfalls liberate themselves by helping themselves to the treasures kept by some of the upper ranked soldiers whom we assassinated.



1372 - William began to study more tomes offered by Darkwatch Priests, then entailed scribing, fortune telling, astrology, astronomy and numerology and how the calander of harptos can predict a major event that will shake all of faerun, but to translate the texts the book needed is part of a Trionic Text which needs all three books together to complete, the final book is lost to Cormyr. The next few years on Williams life lead him to the intrigue of Cormyr and a secondary lifelong quest of collecting the Profitic Trionic Tomes.

1373 - William Homesteads a pig farm just outside of Darkwatch taking up about an acre in size. Lost his farm when his pigs where fed the bodies of a poisoned family of elves, in turn killing his stock, the decision of the Homesteading was in part to join the Circle of Cyric along the boarders of Darkwatch along the lay lines of Moander's Creeping Evil. It's hard to say how big their community is since the settlements are spread out in a circular alignment.
The Community also includes an Iron Mine, a Crude Tannery dressed in blood, a slave ran plantation growing various dark herbs, a lumber mill, and Horse Thief Ranch.
(a place where many horses seem to find their way to when they disappear from Hunters Down nearby)

1374 - With established ties to the Darkwatch of Deepingdale William has set out to accomplish two main task's to earn the next title, and if he fails then he must never return.

William must preform the Sacrifice of a priest of Lathander on an eclipse, he must also slay a general of the Zhentish forces, if those things are completed he may rejoin the ranks of Darkwatch.



Adult:

1377 - William recieves an adventuring charter for Cormyr arriving from the east along the Dawnpost. Discovering the sites and lore and the cities and the who is who in Cormyr prying his nose into common folk's business getting the gossip on the nobles.



1379 - (year adventuring began)

- Sometimes William likes to get bandits to boast about their murders for the chance to talk about them as wise men and women to become killers and server the lord of murder and further teaching the dogma of Cyric.



- Invented Cormyrian Noble Murder Mystery Game to bring out the best folk fun for the Feast of the Moon on the last night of Uktar to mark the start of winter.

[spyd3r97344]

1374, Shortly after his connection with the Darkwatch was sealed in Sembia, To the west in Waterdeep the records of William Grimcloud's life in Zhentil Keep wen't missing about the time of Halaster Blackcloak's death, Although the Darkwatch rejoiced and praised Cyric for his work in the shadows giving William a clean slate to proliferate. As far as the War Wizards in Cormyr know William had never been to Zhentil Keep before.

In 1378, William committed a triple homicide in-between a pair of towns along the Tun river, although he was never linked to this murder, folk say he cut the tongue out of the wife and made her husband watch followed by their son and then beat the man to death with a candlestick, when a worried relative came in for a visit she had seen the skull of the lord of murder drawn on the floor, other then the bloody boot prints of a Fancy Sembian craftsman and some of the body parts where severed and missing. Anywhere in this cottage that chaos could seep, it seems as though it had. Bookshelves tipped over, furniture overturned, clothing tossed everywhere along with papers, logs, dishes, and anything else not bolted down.
Someone may as well make a fortitude save to resist the feeling of horror in the nature of insanity stapled into the thick of this incident.

Words from members of the community tell of this family helping travelers and providing shelter for strangers and a meal for the hungry, and in all the work they did, they did it in the name of lathander, for these farmers praised the knights of the triad for their work in protecting the farming ranching community. Folk are left to wonder how such a beloved family could have this happen to them in such a horrific fashion.

1379, on occasion thru out the year may or may not have been seen dipping into the tithes at the worship sites around Valkurs Roar spending the collection's on drover services.

1380, Kythorn - Failure to appear, accused of Conspiracy against the Crown after admitting he kicked a cat

1380, Eleasias - Report of a possible Manual of demonology regarding methods to summon them.

1380, Eleint - unsolved case, Adventurer of Lathander gone missing. 

1380, Uktar - the night before the feast of the moon, a strange substance of bone meal dust infused with poison extracted from dried mandrake pedal and sleeping sickness has been spread around the fairy circles in the bramblewood, mysteriously fairies are getting sick. (Aged footprints of a fancy sembian style boot are found around the inflicted area)

1380, Nightal - unofficial contractor for a shadowy syndicate, also brings a case of Red Dragon beer to the gatherings and drinks "To Red Dragon's, (a slang term meaning a traitor to Cormyr) and the Shadows, Misery to the Obarskyr's! May the Tot king never grow tall enough to see the felt of his throne! And to the Fall of the War Wizards control over magic they use to keep power held away from the people keeping rule over them! To the ones we love and to the ones we kill, we drink to them as well and mayhem make merry!".

1380, Hammer - Near the end of hammer a report came in by a commoner that said "Someone was slowly torturing goblins with fire.",  and the accused man claimed with a chuckle, "I was only trying to stay warm", soon after the townsfolk came back with the watch and he had vanished.

1380, on occasion thru out the year may or may not have been seen dipping into the tithes at the worship sites around Valkurs Roar.

1381, Ches - lost journal page (Resembling William's quillmanship) - mistwoods - Recipe triple bock stew liver and onions, 1 lb. Dwarf liver (fresh)

1381, Tarsahk - Attempted murder, clergy member of Moradin 

1381, Tarsahk - Soliciting adventurers for addictive substances.

1381, Mirtul - Unlicensed peddling of minor magic artifacts including ones from a catalog of torture devices.

1381, Mirtul - While sleeping in a common room at Talbot's table other guests reported someone ranting in their sleep have a strange dream he must have gotten so loud another guest reported this to the inn keeper. He has delusions of grandeur, believing he is chosen by Cyric to achieve world domination followed by tongues and gibberish in his state of slumber, unfamiliar to most folk of the material plane these tongues of sleep talking sound down right evil.

1381, Last tenday of Mirtul - Innocent of Arson, "I did not burn down that barn. I would have done it from the inside, and if you look at the evidence it was started on the outside down wind from the burning trash heap the haynose fire tenders were watching, it is not my fault if their gulletfire's got the better of them and they fell asleep on the job."

1381, Last tenday of Mirtul - Has succeeded in initiation of an ago old contract he had filled against Marister several moons back, for in his offense was asked never to touch William again or he would need the cleric, upon application of divinity with out consent.

1381, Mirtul - Contemplates life and what is means to lie in the name of Cyric but mostly because he is psychotic, as he begins to use his skills as a scribe to write propaganda and as an act of evil temps others to lie or mislead others. As an admirer to the tales of Tiax, Williams assembles a more cryptic style as well.

1381, Kythorn - Conspiracy of illegal spell use in an outlawed jurisdiction with in the township of Great Gaunt

1381, Kythorn - May have been spotted talking to orphans boasting that, The faithful are rewarded, using his new arm as proof since it no longer bears the scars that would have otherwise witnessed on the other, but bearing fresh flesh one of the children asked him, "Did it hurt?" as he replied "To lose it? No, that's all a bit foggy but to gain a new one was the worst pain imaginable, I would sooner throw my self to the mercy of a Red Dragon's Jaws!
But it seems that is not His Lord's intent if he was to be standing here this day."

1381, Kythorn - May have started the "Rumor Game" - Pass it on. . .

1381, Kythorn - Strange places along the countryside in isolated areas are being vandalized with strange symbols, among these symbols can sometimes be found tracks of a Fancy Sembian Boots around human proportion similar to the kind William wears. some clues in these areas that may or may not be related to the case in question:
- A heavy belt covered in blood was found buried under a tree
- A dead rat was found near an Orc-ish flaying knife
- A partially burned sketch page with a blood stain
- Like a vile magical experiment using someone's stolen Alchemist's shipment

1381, Kythorn - Conspiracy of plotting to challenge the Obarskry Regency, and to have the leaders of churches removed from parliament council seats.

1381, Flamerule - Attempted smuggling of manuscripts into Thayan markets.

1381, Flamerule - Tampering with a "Trials" witness, and conspiracy of an alleged Tainted Object.

1381, Flamerule - Illuminating "The Great Controversy" extending to back streets and alleyways in dark corners of the cities, and underground syndicates with contagious "Ideas" acting as a usurper pushing for a rebellion.

1381, Flamerule - Shortly after the execution of Abii, William scribes a spell circle with blood-ink in a geometric planer summoning spell to make a deal with a demon, working the energies of the blood magic.

1381, Eleasias - Being spirited away to the fugue plane to evangelize souls after sacrificing himself on the eighth day in Suzail's abandoned house when the seventh days of faithful chanting and praying has failed.

(A Trip Through Hell) (Lost Chapter of The Howling Threshold)

SPOILER: Click to show

 Later after the execution on the last of Flamerule, William retreats to the Abandoned house down the alleyways of Suzail.


 The throbbing pain from William's headache was enough to disorient him. Hazy, confused and weak in the knees, he felt as if he could collapse under his own weight at any moment. It was exhausting and the anguish took its toll on him. Tired, but unable to sleep and unable to stop it. He paused for a brief moment, contemplating all he had fought for and all he could lose if he gave up now.


 It became harder and harder to swallow the pain, to ignore the sensations and the voices his mind. But he desperately kept himself busy, but nothing really helped to ignore the pain. However, they felt like there wasn't much that could be done either way, so the best course of action was to simply deal with it and get on with life until the pain subsided.


 William Begins to make prayers in the dark, he prays and prays for Cyric's will to come to him again, for his voice to seek him out again, guiding his very hand and mind to what needs to be done.


 William pulls out a bottle of reddish ink, mixed with half of the blood he relinquished from the fey'touched arcanist Mystogan the necromancer, he begins slowly drawing a geometric circle concerned with shape, size, relative position of symbols decorated with the blood infused ink. In a balanced manner the symbols used are that of a planar summoning spell.


 When the Ink is complete next William pours a circle of salt and places a pinch of sulfur in the center of it, speaking out loud another prayer, "Lord Cyric! Please grant me your audience. Illuminate me with your light so I may guide others in your name. I ask this of you in your eternal presence."


 William next draws his blade and cut his hand upon its edge then after clenching his fist and dripping his own blood into the center of the circle, he starts chanting incantations falling into a meditative state.


 In his fifth day of prayers and chanting, William continues to work the body of energy with another prayer.


 "Lord Cyric, I pray to thee, open this rift of time and space and send forth a liaison, strike with him a deal and produce for me the dead body of mass murderer Abii, great and disturbed unholy magnificence, I will serve your bidding in return for this miracle and bring the strife to the country of Cormyr once more, in your name."

Eleasis 6th,

 Chanting on the 6th day, after the dehydration and hunger leave him delirious and with hallucination's leading to his suicide, he had left himself clues to the death that was about to happen.


Eleasis 7th,

 William finally decides that even though he normal has no trouble summoning demons, he must be cut of from his power and abandons his attempt to recover Abii's body and rather commit's suicide bleeding himself out on the floor.


 Everything slowly slips away as William soon finds himself relieved from the weight of his body, all time obscures and at peace in the quiet for a flash he finds himself in the cold voided Howling Threshold with a delight symphony of torturous screams as he chuckles with madness. arising in the fugue he begins to seek out pretenders and lost souls evangelizing them.
"I know the True Way! Listen to me now, just follow the loudest of the screams! I know that sounds scary but that is the One True Way, when you find a land mark just stay to the left and follow on to the One True Way! Go now! Save yourself!"


 With any luck the soul collectors will earn their keep as William points souls toward the clutches of Hades while seeking out Abii's soul. Which must mean either his demonic deal either did or didn't turn out. . . or the numerological significance of the 7th has failed and in the deepnight he could has possibly accounted that the significance of 8 led him to Dharma, or his sense of duty and doing what needs to be done.


 William carries on Chuckling with mad amusement as he seeks out souls. . .

 Moments after dying, William emerged upon the Howling Threshold. Seeing his rebirth in the afterlife as a second chance, he wanders the mist's in the minds fog of the fugue it's as though the screams are almost a guiding vision in themselves and at a whim of some intrinsically pure concept was found before his eyes, some archetypal castle wrapped in an Astral Plane centered floating in a lake of lava as if an echo of something much more profound or even a symbol of the edge of inspiration that chaos lends its aid to creation like a perfect storm in it's seemingly infinite layers or perversion, and decadence.


 Continuing his search ignoring the "visions" with some certainty of design this place is an assembly of the insane for the purpose of destroying its inhabitants with demonic vassals and hordes of subjects through the Gates of Harvest. William looking onto his own flesh feels the paintbrush of disease as the evil rots and decays his soul.

Not Rated reader discretion is advised. . .



 The shades of the Faithful, their souls as tangible as William's strange physical form. Many a fervently souls pray in a meaningless cacophony, to fearful to cease, lest they, too, be cut off from their gods. And in the midst of the tapestry of songs formed by choruses of chanting shades. Stumbling through the croaking crowd, the faces are blurred as the prayers of the pretenders become mute to William in their gurgled pleas.


 He'd appeared on the fugue plane some time ago, though he found it hard to tell how long. William eventually finds himself on the shore of a polluted, festering stream and begins to follow it downstream as a fugitive watchful for demons flying the turbid skies and roaming its vast plains. Also mindful not to touch the water in the stream but that doesn't keep the stream from touching him, although he didn't touch the water their remains a hovering mist in the air that was over looked and slowly William's memory decays as he slowly forgets who he is.


 In vein trying to remember the prayers to Cyric over time the confusion settles over his mind as the prayers vanish, but his emotions continue to be at the core of his senses. His will guides his mind, and his mind guides his chi, and his chi guides his body. With a decaying self-awareness, time and time again more visions appear and more voices are heard soon he forgets who they are. he no longer hears the screams of the harvest gates on the Howling Threshold over all the chatter and is rendered mute. Left in a delusion of pure thought among the terrors that have established themselves him his mind and the fear proved contagious.


 Coming across a lost soul who had wandered away from the crowds of shades, One of Milil's bards paused in her song to stare at William. Meeting her gaze, she looked away, but not before he noted the terror clouding her eyes. Has my voice been taken he thinks to himself. Instinctive he grew hungry to feel, nothing more could be heard in this moment for William, in his unconscious ego, all that he could see was red, survival, and viciously attacks another soul out of stricken hunger and depraved paranoia. Over time his fears had manifested in the form of vile twin snakes growing from his shoulders. These terrible parasitic beasts kept William alive through the singular means of devouring the brains of his victims.


 Some delight was had in devouring a soul though the incorporeal flesh was eviscerated, the tortured screams of the haunted soul became audible with a grim cacophony. Upon this scene of feasting on flesh William saves the heart as his trophy and as quickly as he could pack up the incorporeal heart a dragon descends upon him from above.


 Silently William stands alert as a hawk ready to seize a rabbit, before him was a fierce dragon and what could have been a denizen rider, rooted at its feet the shock of his abrupt landing could be felt, and just before William could gaze as far as the saddle strapped to the scaled terror, a quicker snap of jaws and William finds himself in the mouth a the winged monster rolling in a puddle of saliva. That sense of "feeling" that once escaped him had come back very rapidly, when you have teeth the size of a swords grasping you by the torso.


 Being spat out by the beast and finally getting a look at him, he stood at least 20 feet and was mounted by a regal warrior wearing garments of royalty. Blood and ichor stain his vestments, with a ghostly noose around his incorporeal neck and an ancient royal crown, the dragon licking the residual blood off it's lips as the man speaks although his lips do not move and he says.


 "I have vowed to create in The Abyss a kingdom of subjects who will honor me for my character and dedication to truth. Obedience is discipline."


 A few more denizens have appeared and have fallen in suit. One of the grotesque beings whose form had been patched together by dozens of animals and his head looked to have belonged to a wolf once, a pair of human arms ending in hands that were little more than claws. A bristled mane ran from behind its pointed ears down to its hunched ogres back as he rubbed together four enormous spider legs and large leathery wings. They apprehend William aggressively detaining him, driving manacle spikes into his wrists and a claw clamping onto his elbow. William curses them silently while another voice forms, one he did not recognize. It's as if it's trying to warn him though he was not convinced it was coming from a denizen.


 "To protect his ruler-ship he’s turned to torture—indeed, the layer seems dedicated to perfecting that ancient art. Souls and demons alike hang on great metal hooks from the kingdom’s parapets. Body parts and unidentifiable fluids stain the cobblestones of great cities, and countless screams issue forth from countless chambers filled with racks, brazen bulls, iron maidens, and worse. Eventually, he became a demon."


 The last order given by the demonic dragon rider was, "Take this one to Lord Rahu the Tormentor." Another vision strikes William's mind, an image forms depicting a cut-off head of a Dragon or an Armageddon Beast that swallows the sun causing eclipses. A serpent with no body.


 While the Denizens had taken the crowd of shades with William's soul in custody a conversation between denizens could be overheard, "There is a milk ritual to appease the Tormentor. The milk turns light blue when it flows down after touching the statue of Rahu." Another denizen replies, "Rahu is considered the greatest expert of plotting, scheming, conspiracy, manipulation and strategy. Rahu's intelligence and sharpness is so penetrating and piercing that it can get past any person's mind and psychological mechanism. It can be said that Rahu's eyes are like a elder beholder or permanent truevision, He is the master of truth and lies, this worm though, he is no doommaster!"


 Arriving back at the Harvest Gate, in front of him stood massive gates and a noisy crowd of otherworldly forms gathers outside a great walled necropolis with a choking smell of decay seeping into his nose and mouth. The denizens gawking and leering, some with a grim glee about them at the sight of shades while others simple gaze over them with a dark cold stare, the kind he was most used to by now from experiences in the prime material plane. Most of the language among the local denizens was predominantly infernal. Of the louder voices in the crowd did seem to be concerned with maters of certain truths and lies which are a specialty of Rahu the head torturer, Rahu is merciless and is considered the Minister of the Devils.


 Before him stood the gates, dark and foreboding, they reached into the sky swirling with red mist. To either side past the hulking gatehouses, high, pale walls stretched to the horizon to far to be certain, but William thought the walls were moving. It was almost as though each brick was shifting constantly as though it were alive. The crown of whimpering, brawling shades pushed closer, each bound at the wrists by manacles, and , like steer before a slaughterhouse, every damned soul was herded along by a pair of monstrous denizens. They had been formed by insane mixing of animals and men, plants, or even gems and metals. They flew, slithered, and crawled along, prodding and jabbing them with sharp spines.


 The crowd surged forward until William was against the gatehouse, the towers surface was hard and dark, and it felt oddly warm against his face. He pushed away to get a better look at the small, roundish blocks. They weren't stones, he peered closer, then recoiled. "They are Hearts!" he shouted. "The tower's made of hearts!" A denizen snorts out, "Bet you can't tell what kind!" Another denizen retorted, "Leave him be, he doesn't look like a priest to me. Their the only ones who care about such trivia." William finally found his voice and say's "Oh-Cyric-On-a-Stick."


 Every denizen in earshot turned to William. Quickly a webbed hand reaches out a clamps down William's mouth as the denizen says, "Enough of that! I don't like the subject calling out to others, we certainly don't need the grief." He balled his fist and stuck a beyond solid blow against a William's jawbone, as teeth spill out of the shade's mouth like marbles from a torn bag. "You're our own worst enemy." says another denizen while shielding William from further blows with a leathery wing, "If he can't speak, they'll be pissed off at us at the castle. Remember what happened last time you twisted that shades head off?" Slithering sideways he retorts, "Aw, this'll heal before he gets to see him." Reluctantly the denizen was careful to impose himself between them until the gates opened.


 Horns sounded from atop the gatehouses and the dark door creaked open just wide enough for about three men to pass shoulder to shoulder. Denizens shoved their wards through the gap, then followed closely. The road ahead was lined with skeletal guards with razor-sharp weapons who existed solely to abuse the newly damned souls for milling by the thousands so that they are ripe to speak the truth to their tormentors. Hungry things waited impatiently in the shadows for a morsel of sliced flesh after being ground into paste beneath the mobs feet.


 Time blurred for William as he made his way with countless others to the heart of this tailor-made nightmarish parody that is the Kingdom of Sraosha. Only the healing of his jaw marked the candles. The pain was still a plague and diminished with blurred senses, scattered thoughts and a continuously throbbing headache, the pain from the spikes embedded into his wrists had almost diminished. The mob eventually reaches the gates to a great palace at the center of the necropolis. Walls built with a hem of the purest diamonds, here shades were allowed to rest as many of the damned collapsed, exhausted from the run.


 Staring up at the shadowy heights of the castle, it reached into the turbid dark crimson sky. The lower floors were built with foreboding skulls that looked aimlessly over the courtyard. Higher still other bones were incorporated into the architecture forming spiraling frames around windows that serve as braces for balconies for winged denizens to enter the palace. The tower's jagged peak disappears into a thick miasma or fog and smoke.


 One of the denizen's shouted, "Time to go." The keeps front doors opened, and the denizens scrambled around rousing the shades forward. William could feel his jaw knitting back together and with a cold stare at the denizen who hit him, in a miserable sound he attempts to speak with his jaw still painfully loose, "Your gonna pay." With a twisted smile the denizen replies, "See, told you it would heal." Scowling the other denizen grabs the chain between William's manacles pulling him toward the keep. "You think so do you worm, and how are you going to do that?" William continues his cold stare and rubs his jaw. In a hideous cackle the denizen face breaks into laughter "If you believe in the gods the Rahu will have more fun with you, most of these shades will be added to the walls, unless the tormentor, he might like you if you don't watch your tongue!" William opened his mouth to speak again but was silence with a vicious snarl. "It would be nice to see this worm take some of the Tormentor's wrath." The denizens ushered William past a slab of carved Obsidian that made up the main door.


 The entry hall was built upon a floor of seamless marble with stained glass seeming to tell a story of both murder and corruption in how this denizen prince forced his subject to worship him like a god. With denizens as his subjects it seems he has formed an army who defend the "truth" whereas the king would pry from the hearts of his assumed enemies by subjecting them to gruesome tortures. Unsurprisingly, these torturers brought more and more confessions. another set of stained glass was weirdly hypnotic, skulls lined the wall with their mouths held in a perpetual, silent screams and the light bleeding through was a brownish red like that of dry blood. "In here worm," Said one of the denizens leading him to the next room through a ghastly entrance into a room where a podium stood in the center along the walls are bookshelves with a collection of both surgical instruments crafted of obsidian with scalpels sharper than steel and preserved body parts as well as books about human physiology and anatomy.


 The denizens brought William to the podium and forced him to his knees. the pair of denizens followed suit prostrating their twisted forms to kneel touching their foreheads to the marble floor and no sooner did the monstrous visage appear before them at the podium. An impossibly gaunt figure stood before them oddly handsome with fine features and delicate blue skin. Two long, elegant horns emerge from his forehead, stretching more than a foot in length. In highly fetishist garments of tight leather, accenting the assembly with a blood-spattered apron. Dozens of small saws, awls, vises, and worse dangle from the apron, still some thick with the skin and fluids of past unfortunates. and with a snap of his fingers profiled with long black nails, torch light appears accenting a library behind him.


 Announcing the lords arrival one of the denizens says, "Hail, Demon Lord, Rahu The Tormentor, Chief surgeon." William looking over Rahu as the Tormentor quickly sticks pins into William's eyes, with a cry out in agony William screams while he is rendered blind. Rahu speaks saying, "Don't Look at me like that, now speak! Who do you think you are." William with his eyes bleeding trying to determine Rahu's position and before he could speak the Tormentor orders William, "Stop that wiggling" and the denizens prop him up. Rahu speaks again, "Kneel before me!" whereas William declines the request, Rahu takes a serrated blade and the denizens grip William firmly as Rahu uses it to saw through the tendons in the back of William's legs. In screams of agony growing louder with each snapping tendon until the last one snapped and the denizens dropping him down into a kneeling position.


 The Tormentor, with a tone of enjoyment says, "The Truth will not evade me. I have mastered the ancient art of torture long ago shade, I will break you of your confessions." Rahu pulls the pins from William's eyes. "For all the pain I can bring to you shade, I would just as well bless you with a new set of eyes, it's been a secret pleasure of mine to stitch poor creatures back together. You will soon find pain to become your only friend here."

 As the interrogation continued seemingly out of nowhere another figure appeared causing an interruption. An eerie moment befalls the room as the presence speaks, although if William could see him he would have a gray face which held no features other than a pair of bulging yellow eyes. His body was nothing more than a shadow filled cloak, which rose and fell upon a wind. The creature produced a quill pen and positioned it steadily over a scrolled parchment. the shadowy figure began to speak, "I am Jergal, scribe of the dead and I am here to recover the soul of a shade whom was rumored to have found its way into the Kingdom of Sraosha." Jergal's lifeless eyes had seemed to paralyze the denizens. "You will hand over this shades soul immediately or we will start feeding your army to The Night Serpent."


 Rahu turns again to William and says, "Alright you heard him, hands off." The Tormentor takes a cleaver from his belt and cleaves off William's hand sending blood spattering out as he releases another scream in agony. Azidahaka, a Regal looking warrior steps into the room to greet Jergal, "Good show Rahu." he then turns to Jergal and says, "I do wish you would inform me when you will be dropping in, now what is it that brings you this far out?" Jergal replies, "It has been brought to my attention that a shade one of your parties had collected already belongs to another and I have come to claim it." Azidahaka responds, "Is that so? Iv'e heard no confessions that would prove you're allegations." Jergal replies, "Ask him now then." as he points at William. Azidahaka looks to Rahu and says, "Very well continue."



 The Tormentor turns to William once more and begins to speak, "Now admit your sins shade." William struggles to remember one of his prayers, "I am follower of the One True Way" he replies as he winces. Jergal moves toward Azidahaka, "This soul belongs to another and if you do not release it to me then you know the consequences of your actions." Azidahaka replies, "Very well, you win this time, Rahu release this shade to the scribe." Rahu looks to the denizens and with a nod of his head they remove the spiked manacles. Jergal floats toward William until he his cloak envelopes the shade and himself into a shadow as it shrinks into a fine point and vanishes as Jergal whisks William away from the Kingdom of Sraosha in the Abyss.


 William could no longer hear the denizens heavy breathing or their vile smelling breath. "You have been lost, but you are now found and I am to remove your memories of death, Your knowing of what has passed mortal, so for this you can not know what has happened. Now lets get this over with." As acting seneschal, Jergal begins preforming a ritual on the shade of William rendering his mind altered corrupting his memories preparing to returning him to the Land of the Living.

At the end of Flamerule 1381, something strange happened to William, He awoke in Cormyr with amnesia brought on by a deity power. He cannot even remember his prayers.

1381, Eleasias, 2nd tenday - Spirited back from an unsuccessful but eventful trip, returning changed by the experiences that have blocked his memories out, a by-standing adventurer offering help has resulted in this clue, a Greater Restoration spell casting at the den in Shallybrook did not recover his memory.

1381, Eleasias, 3rd tenday - With the assistance of a few more adventurers William has traversed libraries looking for clue's regarding a tattoo on his arm, if it is not a slave mark or mercenary brand, the starburst silhouette with eight wavering tips as a sketch somewhere might depict. Near the mark of the month's end, William, is approached by a mysterious woman who claims to know him, Traveling to acquire a supernatural component that will help William remember the One True Way. After devouring the still beating heart of a Deva, William recovers a sliver of his former mind only to have wished he didn't learn of past transgressions. In the past he lived life as a slave named William. As for the first years of his chronicles and last 17, the memories have not recovered.

 Ben, had been also advising him with such warning as Abii has, one such precaution is to avoid Thay, if it is true William is a slave then a Banite may be looking for him under said name as slavery is legal tender beyond the border.

 An Elf named Gefsdin has offered some assistance in gathering clues using books regarding "Monster Genealogy I & II" and "Living Strategically: Life Lessons learned from Lanceboard", as one of the topic books contains, [On the last Gathering is a Watermark sigil of Intrigue with an image of a smoke stained "Iron Star"]

 With a failure that ended successful, to hone skills tasked to test his skills as a swordsman, a dwarven priest of Lathander had come to the aid of a more than strange fellowship in combat against Orc's, A contemplating Swordsman feeling as if this moment deserves some sort of poem or even something else, with further contemplation his mind wanders to the topic's of "good and bad". Would it be just to say that these are not, two different things but rather two parts of the same thing. Then what is it really, besides a "Path" they have chosen.

 Remembering back to what Abii had spoken about The True Way, he wonders what did this mean, The True Way. If this is really something that was inside of him, and as Abii had told him, if he can find all he needs to in his inner-self.

 Trying to fathom all of it, William turns his consciousness toward it's own center in pursuit of self-realization, he contemplates the meaning of, The True Path. If William had once achieved some deeper enlightenment before then why couldn't he have that again. The memory he had kept lashing out in his mind how was it he escaped this wretched situation. Still inflicted by some curse of a higher power being, blocking the ability for him to reach his memory.

 William found it difficult to concentrate but he managed, Whatever you name it or call it, cannot really be it. Whenever you think that you have it, you have lost it. Grasp it and it is not to be found. Words can only point the direction of the true path. To understand the true path one has no other recourse but to experience the true path directly. The experience will separate the scholar from the mystic, the man from the sage. The Ultimate meaning of the true path is the spirit.

 William thinking to himself, What is my path, Is it the path of action? In vain he strives for some perfect illusion, some sense that he is free of his eternal bonds. Whatever the case may be, Man refines himself through his Self. The true path is indescribable.

 When a man is to take the world over and shape it, he must be indebted to do so, for the world is a divine vessel, It cannot be shaped without damaging it. He who knows honor and keeps to humility will become a valley that receives all the world into it. Selfishness brings greed and destruction. Humility brings love and charity.

 A new dawn begins as William feels somewhat determined to concentrate on his form with the sword, bumping into Ben and Zamar on the streets of Suzail, they had invited him to aid the search of a lost Wizard, soon after we find ourselves in some kind of magical laboratory in which Zamar familiarizes with the research. The pair of wizards manage to create a portal with a craft beyond my understanding, non-the-less, the portal lead to some strange plane where the elemental forces are highly unpredictable. One moment your freezing the next you are scorching. We had fought through a demonic horde the likes of which steadily fell to our combined force. We had slain many but they continued to sound their alarms as more would gather. We had reached our limit when we came to a demonic foe formidable enough to stave off our strikes and breaking our assault. William made an open attempt to call Cyric for power, His heart although didn't have the dark flames of passion needed to turn this around on their quarrel.

 William try's to identify with his breath, a subtle part of his physical body, remove it and death remains. Letting out his breath as it merges with all pervading Spirit, but despite this sense of a tangible connection among all beings, William's ego continued to dissolve the intangible connection of spiritual energy.

 The reason why we can oppose fate is that reality is always conditioned, and these conditions of time and space limit and determine it. The spirit, however, is not bound by these determinants and can bring them purpose. The True Path of Ultimate Reality. All chance contingencies can be shaped according to the true path. The conscious application of possibilities assures mastery over fate. Understand the present to change the future. Change the trend of the present and the future will change. One could say that Awakening to the realization that all reality is controlled by the belief, that your beliefs can change it more than others then, your the most important being in the Universe. There was a darkness outside reality, a darkness full of things. Because your reasons are utterly incomprehensible.

 A universe where souls are preyed upon as a mere plaything for all kinds of inconceivable horrors, and all our ideals are naught but cruel illusions. Take one step away from the comforts of home, and you will find terror and madness on every nook and corner, hideous monstrosities, truths so terrible that none may comprehend them and remain sane. Demons gibber in the tunnels beneath your feet. Ghosts hover unseen and unheard around you, discerning and mocking your every thought and secret. They are grotesque mockeries of reality beyond comprehension whose disturbing otherness cannot be encompassed in any mortal tongue. Terrors cry out their songs, if I wake they’ll let me go…

 Was it the Cosmic Way, was the call of spirit revered in silence? Some how was it Abii whom profoundly manifested a portal? As William observed her form in combat each strike done so in a relaxed state. Each situation demands the action proper to it. When she moves it was almost like watching a river flow. Like a drawn bow her arm was ever ready to release energy. Her form seemed to hinge on the opponent, if he moved she did as well if he hesitated she followed him until it seemed as if to follow his intentions re-adjusting with every step she somehow was able to sink her weight and bend like a blade of grass dancing to even the hardiest of assaults. Here eyes gleamed like razor steel if it can even compare. With four ounces of strength she can deflect one thousand pounds of force. Through the mind these movements are directed naturally.

 One's essence of reality can penetrate the veil of illusions, realizing the unity within diversity, is this the framework of the weave's manifestation, or is it the universal spirit in union with the mind and body. William can almost conceive the consciousness that manifests intangibly as "The Art's" with in his mind.

 As the days go on William finds himself unable to manifest The Art's. He struggles with his training but contemplation is never far behind. Seeking information about the Mad God was something highly frowned upon, if it was really what he was or is supposed to be, then what is it he would need to do? William thinking out loud to himself lights up with a divine glow as he comes to realize the thing he is missing is devotion...

 William standing in the rain near the Winking Eye Tavern happens across Abii, the two meet in the street and seek shelter inside the tavern, Abii makes her way to the alcohol and tucks into the room concealing them with the curtains. As they begin to discuss matters regarding the state of William's memory they come to the conclusion that what is needed is the gesture of faith to the master, a Murder. Upon further discussion Abii thinks of a target, The Priestess of Mystra. William concludes that he is nearly ready for the confrontation, with some training to prepare for this task soon it will be seen if faith can answer the call to his prayers.

 Near the end of Eleint 1381 and the beginning of Marpenoth, William studies the route to the temple and prepare to catch the witch off guard in the early morn as he waits and studies the route and who travels along it for the next tenday and when the time was right he would strike like a snake hiding in the grass and the blood of the witch would spill, as well as taking a sample or her blood in a vial for another purpose.

Attachments:

[spyd3r97344]

 William was hoping some rush of memory would come to him after such an act but it all just seemed so quiet. The lust for blood had now overcome him like an addiction and before the first tenday was over, William couldn't help himself as he skulked into the temple of Hoar in Valkur's Roar. as he was preparing for the priest to consecrate him near the alter he draws his blade and cuts him down in mid service leaving the old priest dead in a short moment, bleeding out on the floor of the temple until their was no longer any breath in him, as well as taking a sample or his blood in another vial.




 After committing this heinous act, William takes refuge underground shunning sunlight in his paranoid state of depravity. During the month of Uktar he found it difficult as he had not left the stench of the sewers until the Feast of the Moon. Living on the blood of rats for nourishment when he couldn't find anything edible to steal from other inhabitants. The ease at which trolls seemingly slip into the sewer would suggest a level of organization among the dwellers that encourage their presence. Their strong sense of smell would make a human stand out, unless filth settling into the nooks and crannies of ones wardrobe could turn the table, trolls seem to always know how to find lunch and William was hungry for more than dirty bloated rats. 

 As the end of Uktar was drawing down William changed his prey after finding himself being stalked by a lowlife ruffian crawling in the filth of the midden. Taking advantage of a blind corner to engage the cretin, swiftly William had struck his pursuer lurking in the dark with a violent surprise. During the rush of adrenaline on top of the feral hunger William decides to par take in consumption of the mans flesh as he flayed open the corpse and began preparing cuts of meat for a spit to quench his appetite.

 As Nightal would begin unknowingly William started to feel an addiction to the flesh he was consuming and as he ran out it caused his hands to shake on occasion followed by a migraine and a craving to consume more.

 In William's sleep a dream comes to him...
Ravens are dispatched just outside of Arabel's walls in the dead of night. They perch on the window of William's inn room and screech, waking him from sleep. Upon opening the window William hears the bird speaking to him, "Faithful of the One True Way, know that we were betrayed!". The bird begins pecking William's face until he tries to drive it off. It is then that William awakens in his bed. The window is sealed, but his face is punctured and bleeding as if by a bird's pecking...

 For several days William has become haunted by this re-occurring dream up until nearing the end of the second tenday of Nightal. Following Oswald's clues was like deciphering riddles written by a madman, perhaps this was not the careless work of Uncle Oswald but perhaps the unseen hand of Cyric guiding us. William and the others had found the person behind the Curse of the Ravens. Truly they had been drawn to a place where much blood was spilled, the grass grew tall with the blood of the fallen, the rancid earth was hiding many secrets that would soon be revealed to us. Our fate was uncertain as we continued to seek this Uncle Oswald, as perseverance would soon reveal the true nature of this dream...

 Many secrets were discussed that night over the blood of our Lords enemies... This wasn't the end of our journey as much as it marked the return of strife. Soon enough we would find a way, some how the labor force we need will be found, Uncle Oswald seems to have a way with slaves...

 In Williams sleep his dreams didn't end.. he had a new dream, one that felt very real, so much in fact he thought, was it really a memory? he could not see himself in the dream but there was mysteriously fresh dug unmarked empty graves that appeared in the cemetery. The digging appears to have been done somewhat crudely but with organization and the crudely carved hands of possibly a Golem, though the tracks in the graveyard appears to be the work of several different constructs including a biological substance resembling leech slime residing atop the ground.

 As William awoke he could remember something he had not remembered before, their was a small voice crying in the back of his mind telling him to dig up the grave once more to recover my precious artifact... When William heard the voice he tried to cry out to it, "Who are you, and why this grave?" His voice had disturbed Abii in her sleep as she woke him up from a cold sweat. "Was it that same dream again?" Abii ask's William, he shakes his head as a beading drip of sweat rolled off his face. "Not this time.. This time it was of an empty cemetery grave. yet I feel something important may be hiding their. If I could only remember why this grave felt so important..."


 During the last tenday of the year William found himself drawn to this sight, it was one he had recognized on the outer edge of Valkur's Roar, as he made his way it became difficult to navigate. The Nightal weather has arranged itself in its usual manner, local wagons halted by the icy conditions. The ground froze as the snow obscured the surroundings, luckily the place was nearby a protruding landmark. A heavy marker stone with a symbol of the Triadic Order as well as a brightly burning continual flame can still be seen on top the monument stone of Boris, standing out of the snow predominantly enough to test the grounds of this vision that came to him in the night.

 Clearing the snow from the empty plot nearby the monument, William had found the frozen ground beneath covered with shamrocks. He attempted to break the surface of the hallowed earth splitting it open from the icy soil. The task was not easy at first, William had soon thought of the enchantment on his gauntlets and used it to set his shovel a blaze and as it burned the labor became easier over time striking the increasingly warming earth below as it melted and moved. The preserved shamrocks beneath the icy surface had wilted back from the brazen hot shovel soon enough what had started as a simple hole began to look more like a shallow grave.

 The work helped keep his body heat up in the chilling temperatures of the cemetery that night as the snow continued to stick, his doubts on finding anything started adding up when he almost lost the will to continue digging when with a hollow thud his efforts led to something, he wonder what it would be, he scrambled to reveal a heavy trunk. "At least it isn't a coffin." with peaked curiosity William rushed to the contents as he pulls out... Grimoires...

 Upon discerning the nature of the tomes he quickly wraps them up in a cloak tucking them away to protect them from the heavily falling snow. As Day breaks over Valkur's Roar William finds his pockets too empty to procure adequate transportation, but the solution comes to him with ease. In the streets of the northern end of the markets, William happens to observe a strange looking man of stunted growth who was hypnotized at a selection of arrows that need to be handled with some caution, it was his taste of interests that William solely based his decision to place his trust with this strange looking man. It was safer than braving the frontier alone and turned out fortunate despite the hardships and near loss of limb. The roads provided sufficient crumbs to scavenge from the bones of the fallen, most of the bones belonged to that of goblin-tamers, their was evidence of a shredded harness. Although it wasn't much, but it was more than enough to secure safe transportation. We had nearly parted ways but William had promised to help the stunted man find a scroll shop he was looking for.

 This night slowly turned into the little scroll shop of horrors for those who can remember the details. Perhaps it was the stress of the situation or the dark energies enveloped around the grimoires that had been taken to Oz. Everyone that night acted as though they had lost some of their sanity. The stunted man seemed most comfortable with some incomprehensible gestures of insanity that spared his life. He had fled before his second trial began, though if he hasn't left the country he may be considered to take the blood oath.

 Returning to the waters that concealed from him tools he has grown accustom to with a ritual in hand, trying to develop a plan to regain what was lost before he had become prey to a pair of Displacer Beasts that crept out of their lair leaving William outmatched as they approached from behind while he scan the waters for that "glimmer" of hope. Drawing his blade he managed to make a few strikes against the foes whom flanked him. Seeing the wounds he carved into the beasts prevail unharmed to the attacks, William knew he couldn't win as manage to escape the flank of one of the beasts, but after he made the run back to town it had been to late as one of the creatures seized the opportunity to take William down...

 I don't mean to start any blasphemous rumors but I think that Beshaba has a sick sense of humor and when I die i'll her laughing.

 A difficult journey is one that is spiritually rewarding, the flickering of the fading stars began to fade in the chilly morn as the twilight turns to the soft red glow of days first light. William lays in a pool of his own blood, the Displacer Beast was breathing over his lifeless corpse as it was preparing to drag the body back to its den...

 So this was to be his fate, morn feast for some supernatural beast, a trophy for his lair and nourishment for its offspring. For a moment he felt an awareness, as though he was floating in the air, watching helplessly from outside of his own body. This awareness was fading fast, his heart had stopped and as much as he wished to reunite with his body, he had no more control over his direction. It was as if something was tugging on his very soul dragging him further away.

 William's spirit was weighed down like a stone in a river. You can fight and pray and hope you have the strength to swim, but sometimes you have to let yourself sink. You'll never know happiness until someone or something pulls your back out of the river. Helplessly William soul was being dragged under as everything faded aside for a flash of light. In a flash, light passed through Williams eyes as his helpless soul returned unto the mortal coils of his torn bleeding body, he was very cold and the first breath of life grabbed at his lungs fiercely with a burning sensation until they felt like they would burst inside his chest. The beast was still their, It was subdued but struggling as it was, the beast would soon be free of it's manifested binding.

 Standing beside him was a slender woman in dark, simple but elegant garments that outlined her frame. Wielding the weave, she had subdued the beast long enough that together the two had taken down this Apex predator before another could fall victim. The woman had restored William's fleeting soul with a random act of kindness. For William this was hard to understand. He could not find the words to describe what he was feeling, somehow he felt that he would meet this woman again.

 Despite the positive efforts of "Good Samaritans" the dirt nap was inevitable, as the events unfolded it become more clear that Beshaba must have dominion over his soul as he could not seem to get a break. Taken down by an Orc, It became a blur for in reality he was smacked down swiftly by the hand of an opponent he did not expect. Mayhaps he had become complacent and this allowed the window of opportunity for the grunt to make this strike leaving William detached in that moment. He lost conciseness and his senses were overwhelmed by the scent of brimstone, he could hear the wails of the howling threshold, but this didn't scare him. It felt to William like a surreal dream had just ended but another had began. The legs of insects crawled over his skin leaving a tickling cold sensation trailing a crossed his flesh. Tiny creatures skittering over his body, they were phantasmal in form as William tries to push them off and his hand passes right through them when suddenly they dissipate into a cloudy mist of energy floating away through the air.

 Was it a ghost, was their something waiting for him off in the horizon among the screams that echoed a cacophony in all directions. "I've no idea what is waiting for me or what will happen when this all ends." William says to himself when unexpectedly he receives a disembodied voice which startles him slightly while he tries to figure out where it came from he hears, "No one under the conditions of absolute reality can continue to exist for long with their sanity intact". William continued to try and figure out where this voice was coming from with no avail, he continued to hear it, "When you wake from a dream, sometimes you wake with in a dream, and sometimes you wake up in someones else's dream." William cried out, "Is that what this is? Is this all a dream?". In the distance hills could be seen beyond the haze of a greasy smoke filled sky, a dilapidated house could be seen tucked close to the hill, its as if the house held in some sort of darkness within it, the dark energy emanating from it could be felt as William began to walk in its direction. Silence was all that resided here where the sturdy stone walls neatly met the firm floor.

 As he approached the house, he walked toward the closed door and what started as a knot in his gut transformed and he could feel the chilling sensation pass through his veins like a ghost forcing his hairs on end. Was it happiness? on the contrary, it was a state of anxiety composed of ecstasy and agony as the disembodied voice returned, "The more you pray, the less you will worry, to carry the morrow's burden this day will not empty it of it's sorrow." William rushed to the door just as a man came stepping out meeting eye's with William as if he was expecting his arrival. The man's face was covered with wrinkles and he had curly silver-white hair. He wore long purple robes and a death's-head ring on one finger. As they stood face to face the man spoke directly to William, "I Love you my son." and without hesitation he continues looking down to William with a great sense of pride, "Love is stronger than reason, If it possible, I would enter your sleep and guard you there, and slay the thing that hounds you, if it has the courage to face me, but I cannot come unless you dream of me."

 For the first time William felt in his heart that he has met this man before even tough he could not remember him, yet William still hung in to the man's words listening carfully. "Redemption, of sinners from their penalties, through murder of the deities against those who would hold your soul in contempt of sin. Our holy mystery and those who believe in it shall not perish, but have everlasting life in which try to understand it. We are not here to ask forgiveness of the gods. Every man is divinity in disguise, the choice to be a fool is yours!". The man places his hand with death's-head ring on William's shoulder and says, "The biggest mistake you can make is to stand alone my son."

[spyd3r97344]

 Xeno motions at William to step inside as he slowly opens the door he had stepped out of. "This way my son." Xeno explains, "I foresaw your arrival and have arranged a srying pool, sort of. Well its cracked. I need a lock of your hair."

Xeno quickly plucks some hair off of William and throws them in the cracked pool. "Ouch" shouted William as Xeno replies, "Don't be a baby!" Xeno begins chanting over the pool, as it forms vapors hovering above it, a plume of smoke jets out and Xeno begins to cough as it comes apon his face and the vapor begin to form a river. it begins to absorb every bit of decay and fetid matrial as the river becomes clouded and more sludge like and there after the vapors implode with a loud shriek back into the pool spitting out small bits of this brackish water into the room. William's ears ringing, the pool returns to its calm slow swirling state.

 Xeno asks William, What do you know of be-fouled water magic my son? William begins patting down his pockets turning them inside out finally tucked away and strapped to a belt behind his cloak, he reveals a Tome containing a Drowning Ritual. Xeno's eye light up as he takes the tome from William's hand as he begins examining the artifact. After studying the manuscript Xeno shouts, "Ah Ha! I know what this is, Its time for a Baptism." He closes the tome handing it back to William and makes his way to the door.

 As they depart Xeno explains, "The rivers that spans the six hundred and sixty something dimensions power the core essences that all the magic pools are scried from, they are not divinity but rather its opposite polarity or like looking into a distorted mirror. Its just like any other living thing except in exhales interdimensionally. but more importantly when you navigate them you must become aware of the fog tides, you must catch the miasma when it breaks or no doubt fall victim and left vulnerable, it will shatter the mind and eventually roam like zombies.

 "It's only a few more miles" Xeno tells William, they had been walking for but the time flew by as they reminisced and Xeno explained to William how the manuscripts work until the last slope was reached, looking out toward the brackish river, still a jaunt away he says, "We can rest here, we don't want to get closer until the next miasma tide rolls out. William looked out toward the river and it was like a small black string running across a featureless ash gray color in the distance. The desolate landscape was guided by the smooth rolling flats in the air hovered a silver fog along most of its length. Xeno patiently watched for hazards, we kept low to make the best of our cover, just the sounds of the occasional screams and curses filled the air in the distance as we waited for the break in the fog and when it came we took our chance.

 "Xeno looks William in the eyes with a serious expression and says, "If this ritual you have works my son you must capture my soul's larval state before it floats away but to see it you need some supernatural assistance." Xeno preforms a True Seeing spell apon William as he replies, "I don't know how." Xeno looking back at him with a reassured look as he ties a rope to his waist and slips into the dark water, "I have faith in you" he replies. As Xeno slips further into the brackish water he continues until he has fully submerged himself with a slight hesitation William prepares the ritual. He reads the incantation like Xeno had shown him earlier and with True sight William had a difficult time following his mentors life force within the brackish nightmare sludge. He gives the rope a tug looking for a response on the other end, he waits a moment longer before pulling in the rope slowly as he scans the waters surface. It all was calm as he dragged Xeno closer to the waters edge he could finally see his body floating in the grotesque brackish river it remained still as he nears the end of the rope he manages Xeno back on shore. While checking for a sign life he examines the body, the effects of the true sight begin to diminish in a flash where their was nothing as he blinked he could see an orb suspended above Xeno's limp body. He blinked again and he couldn't see it, quickly he turns to and empty potion bottle and then back to Xeno's body hovering even higher he sees it again, standing to reach it with haste he scoops it into the bottle and corks it. As he admires the beauty of this multi-chromatic iridescent orb he blinks and it fades inside leaving just an empty bottle. The effects of his supernatural vision have faded.

 Looking back at Xeno's lifeless wrinkles with some worry, the ritual hasn't changed anything, William still didn't know what to do. Feeling no different after the ritual he decides to get comfortable with the rope that is attached to Xeno and he begin the long grueling hike back dragging him the whole way. Apon returning to the dilapidated house with Xeno's body he drags him to the bottom steps as he skulks up to the door and peers inside to see if its inhabited. The door creaks loudly throughout the quiet old house. Returning his attention to Xeno he readies himself to lift Xeno through the door make certain to step on the door jamb firmly with his fancy sembian style boot, with an amused smirk he says "one for luck!" His smirk grows into a smile as he drops Xeno's body on the floor and closes the door behind him. Speaking to Xeno he says, "Now how did I know that. did I remember something? Stepping on the door jamb for luck." He thinks hard for a moment as he scans the room, "There must be some runes or spells around here, Mayhaps I will remember something more." William begins searching the room in hopes he might find some manner or Xeno's work. A menacing rasping scraps against the front door. William looks toward Xeno for a moment as an omnipotent silence befalls the room. As he takes his next step he kicks a rock that scuttles across the floor gleaming in the low light of a sconce. Another rasping is heard at the door as his eyes are drawn to the rock chunk he had kicked, It had an iron red tone but it begotten a blueish green sparkle as it glistened off the light. Quickly William picks up the shiny ironite as he moves closer to the door. As he listens closely something from outside blasts through the door with an impressive amount of strength it whizzed past so suddenly it was like a shadow with wings and possibly a tail as it swoops into the ceiling beams hiding in the shadows making insect like clicking sounds. William readies himself with the ironite in hand as the creep makes its move, it jets strait at William with its locust face it makes an awful noise, William hurls the rock at the creature but missed, instead the stone finds its way to the scrying pool enlarging its cracked edge. As the demon tackles William the magic in the scrying pool becomes unstable. it glows brightly and the magic forms an expansion before collapsing on itself further causing an implosion that draws everything in the room toward its center, pieces of the ceiling begin to collapse, the demon tries to fly away but gets sucked into the rift, then bricks from the wall break away from the rest of the structure as the vortex gobbles them up, William starts sliding across the floor and grabs on to Xeno's hand shortly they are both aloft as they too are engulfed by the unstable rift.


 (Death's-head silver ring)

William awoke very groggy on the hard ground, it was dark and the air was cool and fresh. Lying helplessly A feeling of paralysis has come over him and his eyes a blur as he try's to force his body to move but its found to be entirely limp. He rests his eyes and starts slowly. He focuses on identifying with his breath, slowly, he inhales slowly feeling the air begin to fill his lungs. Trying to move his arm he struggles managing to move a few fingers and finds that he is holding a ring of silver. As it rolls across his palm he meets the gaze of Death's-head.

As the eyes stare back at William he is struck with a pounding migraine that makes his stomach turn, finally William manages to move his arm and immediately to rub his head. In his mind its was still vivid, the face the hair, and the ring the only part he could hold onto while being torn between six hundred and sixty something dimensions.

In the future William will be more prepared to face the tides of the miasma fog should he ever encounter it again. William soon began to sit up and shake off the paralysis he could remember the prayers he once knew but not far behind them were emotions, they kicked his arse as he could remember some of the atrocities that life brings which kindled the fire within Williams spirit. Childhood should be carefree in the sun, not living a nightmare in a dark cage. The marks others leave are too often scars With these things in mind William places Death's-head ring on his index finger as a reminder that every man is divinity in disguise. No one can give you power, many don't want you to have it. You have to find the courage to take it, own it, and hold on! Behind everything beautiful, there's pain.

It all happened so fast he could hardly take in all the details. Time was most confusing, what felt like days in Hell became weeks in Cormyr. His mentor striped away from his grasp in a struggling whirlwind with the forces pulling our feet, falling in opposite directions as if they where caught in a gravitational rift. If not for the ring that which remained now with William, he may have otherwise dismissed it as another night terror. The lapse in time and space is not congruent with a normal night terror. Did Xeno intend to take William's place in the mortal realm or Was this Cyric's doing? Either way, this was too much thinking for William as he is hit with another migraine accompanied by a depraved hunger.