The Primeval Dark (IC)

[forg99rules]

Looking over at Aden as he spoke regarding the previous deal they made with the Rellos she realized that not everyone could see the benefit of getting them to pay first and discuss after. She didn't know a terrible amount about the Sczarni families but she did know that there was no way the previous deal was worth twenty thousand gold. Hell if they had even gotten half of that out of the deal it would truly have been an amazing feat. Her mind was made up though so she decided to step in and voice some of her thoughts, "Aden, that deal and this one are two separate things and it would be best they be considered that way for the time being. Working out another arrangement with the Rellos would be beneficial for us as well as them I suspect. So like i said we will keep these deals separate until we get a chance to speak after I have been fixed up, Then we can collect on the previous bit as well as create further ties with the Rellos by helping with what they want kept quiet. If part of the new arrangement requires us to forfeit the previous bit then that will be discussed at that time as well. So please have some patience, it not like it's you on the bed injured at the moment." A smile flowed onto her face as spoke, the words came out harsher and harsher as she tried to make the point that Aden shouldn't be jumping the gun on pressuring the Rellos to pay for this.

[Mornings]

22th of Rova, Sunday - Time: 7:33 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Autumn)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
Town of Sandpoint; Town Square

---

Main Quest: Seven Days of Night
Memories of the present were still blurred by those of the past, muddling everything together. Yet, they had not forgotten their time in that other reality... It had perhaps been a lifetime ago, for they had lived each day of both the present and that place they once knew. It was as if they had woken up from the longest dream, and now it was difficult to tell which was real. Whenever the truth fell into question, the needed only look at the grim card still clutched in Stella's grasp. Only the words from the Primeval Dark remain to guide you towards answers, but you can't help feeling as if you're simply grasping at straws.
Difficulty: None| Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: 12 hours
Objective:Rumors have reached your ears of the so called 'Weeping Witch' haunting Sandpoint's streets, and strange creatures have begun appearing around the Sandpoint Hinterlands. This information was bought from Riddleport's Harriers, but the job was undertaken by the veteran hunter Kynd. Whatever the truth is, you must find it before that Offworlder does.

---

Jim's right eye visibly twitched. It wasn't a dramatic or overly noticeable gesture, just the underside of his eyelid, which was enough to offset his normally placid face. Men who knew him, or rather, men who knew his moniker - who knew Jim Hands, knew well that Jim didn't take anything personally. He didn't get emotionally invested, and acted his persona; but when something broke that normalcy, even a sliver; a crack beneath the surface. That man, whoever he was, that was a man to be feared. Sheriff Hemlock's face grew grim, seemingly not missing the unexpected look. "...Easy, Hands." The strong bodied man paused for a moment, as if collecting himself. Putting a knuckle to his chin and turning his own head with a dull crack, his steely eyes looked between both Stella and Aden. "Now look 'ere. Firstly, don't know what'cha on about 'an don't much care. Meh name ain't Rello, right. It's Hands. Jim Hands. Git paid good money teh keep meh nose outta da' family's business. If ya' got some happenins' wit' da lady, take it up wit' 'er. An' you..." He looked hard at Arden, "I ain't 'ere fer' no terms. No parley. Dun' give'a sheit from'a rat's arse what ya got goin' wit da' Rellos... but you gonna' understand one thing right now, right quick. Ain't no one left ya' fer dead. Laid ya' dumb arses out in da one place ya might might call safe in dis godforsaken sheit-house. Did it myself. Delicately. Like a babe fresh from'a motha's tit. Cuz I'm'a goddam professional. So don't you ever open dat hole in ya' face an' suggest my work's sub-par. If I wanted ya' dead. You'd be dead. If I wanted ya' breathing, ya' gonna be breathing." He gestured offhandedly to Stella, "Unless, you an idiot an' piss-off whoever she did." Hemlock took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, vainly trying to fight back the headache dealing with this party of over-zealous criminal scum he was forced to find a balance with. "Alright, enough! We get it, you take pride in your work... Now are you going to pay your inquisitor's charges, or not."

Jim scratched the back of his head, averting his gaze. "Would.... but... I can't." The last word trailed off into a mumble. "Say that again? You can't? As in, not won't, but you're incapable?" The inquisitor surprisingly raised a brow at the man's word, an unexpected expression at the executioner's declaration. "Aren't you one of the wealthiest men north of Magnimar. Not legally, but what rich man acquires their wealth legally these days." The big man lowered the tip of his hat to mask his eyes. "Look... I don't have the money right now. Some things happened - and they cost a lot." The woman blinked once, though she didn't speak, that alone spoke of her evident disbelief. "I'm honestly not sure if hearing that makes me happy or not. I suppose the timing could have been better. Guh, I don't have time to intermediate all day. Can't a normal healer mend this?" He glanced at the tall woman, who shook her head in response. "It is a cursed wound. As you are aware, such things have never been mended with a more conventional approach." Hands crossed his armed, "Look, you'll git paid one way or'a 'nother. But first, need ya' teh answer a question - an' ya' ain't charging meh 'nother damn copper. We all seen dis' kinda work right 'ere, so I'm sure da' sheriff's thinkin' it too. Is dis her doin', again?" The inquisitor paused briefly, perhaps considering if she really could milk a little more gold out from them. She seemed to quickly come to a conclusion. "No." A single word seemed to liven the entire room, Hemlock breathed a sign of relief at the confirmation. "Thank the gods, but how can you be sure?" The woman's eyes mechanically shifted to the sheriff, "You would not understand." He shrugged, "Humor me." Again the woman paused, this time looking back at Stella. "The witch you speak of strikes similarly, but in much different fashion. She only uses Daka spirits to maim and kill. These are Murrpau. Though, more of concern is that there is no witch who can control this time of spirit in the material realm. They are too wild. Which means, she must have been targeted from another." The executioner tilted his head and raised a brow, "Not sure what'all dat means, but ya' mean teh say there a witch - in like... a dimensional space or some'such, dat can kill wit'out ever needin' teh' step on dis' side?" If the woman could frown, through her perpetual scowl she would have. "Over simplified, but that is similar in concept, yes." Hemlock's ease was suddenly lost as he covered his face with his hand, "No. No. No. It's too early for talk of cross-planer magic. Look, we'll come back to that when there's something that can actually be done about it."

---

Ͽ ◯ Ͼ

---

Arina could tell that this inquisitor woman was no fond of Stella. A determination that was seemingly made the moment she smelled her. That unkind reservation hadn't abated since. She was almost certain that the price increase which she posed had absolutely nothing to do with the wound itself, but rather, who would be receiving treatment. When she spoke the astronomical cost of twenty-thousand, it almost seemed to be a balm to the foul prospect of having to deal with Stella. The gold outweighed whatever grudges she held, but it evidently was aimed exclusively at the girl on the bed. Sheriff Hemlock seemed as straight-laced as one could be when caught in the middle of a crime family's den, and thousands of years of cultural norms which had perpetuated it. He had more on his plate than one man could handle, and it strained him. The events which had plagued Sandpoint in recent years was not a burden gone unnoticed. There were lives he couldn't save, and things he couldn't do. It had hardened him and made him realistic and resilient, tackling those problems which he faced and those issues within his power to correct. Right now, Stella was just one incident on a laundry list of things which he didn't have enough time to tend to. Jim Hands on the other hand was a difficult man to read. His expressions were both genuine and scripted, as if various key phrases and encounters had been drilled into him until not even he could differentiate where the act begun and the truth ended. The only misplaced piece in it all were his actions relating to the money he no longer had. There was something more to that story, but it was impossible to know what it was or how it made him feel. Stella didn't seem to be an object of personal concern, but rather, a professional curtsy. The questions which he posed to the inquisitor seemed to be multifaceted in his response, not entirely providing either relief nor joy, only a sobering somberness. It was as if he knew, but was truly asking something else. (Arina | Sense Motive - Partial)

Feliks could recognize the woman's association with a glance. They called themselves The Father's Chosen. A group of radical Doomspeakers who had organized and militarized into a wildly psychotic cult of death worshiping madmen. Their tenants and beliefs were foreign and strange, and in that regard he didn't know much. They did not speak outwardly of their lessons or knowledge, instead they claimed to guard the secrets of immortality. Those who earned the right to wear the paint upon their faces were said to have been slain seven times to demonstrate their ascension over death. The inquisitors of their order were all without doubt, insane to some degree, but the rules which dictated their actions were entirely a mystery. Only one tenant was truly known as fact, and that was that they operated as some manner of 'secret police' to silence those who knew those things which the cult deemed remain secret. Looking at the woman's attire, at least that much he could know with certainty. Though, also in black, he could make out old script sown into her cloak's design. It read, 'Slow death to a man who tells many secrets. Slower still to the man who tells only lies.' Due to the unsettling death mask painted across a number of their faces, their cult was more commonly known as the Black Skulls. The name had become so popular, that the group's actual name had already fallen into obscurity. Despite their negative reputation, their priest's held great renown for being capable of curing wounds which were thought of as impossible to mend - but their prices were never cheap. (Feliks | Religion / Local - Success)

A woman spoke out from the doorway, her voice was young; not yet seasoned from age. "Sister Abygael, thank you for coming on such short notice. As you can see for yourself, this one has quite the mind for business... but perhaps not the tongue for matters of a more, subtle, nature." The young woman who stood in the doorway wore an entirely traditional Varisian attire, with woven bright colors. Her skin was fair and her face was pretty, but filled with mischief that did little to belay her temperament. Jim Hands took off his hat and pressed it to his chest as she entered, "Morning mam', trust all is well." She nodded at Stella, "If you would be so kind as to mend this one, Sister. We've terms, and Rellos don't leave promises unfulfilled." The young woman didn't look like the face of a powerful and influential crime family like the Rellos. If they hadn't met before, then it might have come as something of a shock, but without a doubt this was Afrri Rello, the most fearsome crimelord between Magnimar and Riddleport. She moved over to Stella's bed side with a soft smile, placing down her traditional bow to rest against the wall. "I'm sorry this happened to you, but we'll see you're tended to. While we hold an agreement, you're under my care." Though not entirely turning her head, she cast a sidelong glance at Hands and the Inquisitor, "Understood..." They did. The sheriff couldn't help but respect how the little lady could so quickly take control of a situation. "Sheriff... Did you have a chance to look into that matter which we discussed?" The man nodded, "I have my men on it now, was about to head over there myself. If you don't need anything, I'll be heading over now."

Spoiler

Show

6 band-aids used.


Stella HP: 1/17
✦ Spited (Returner)
⭍ Spite increases by 1 (Knowledge: Forbidden)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increase due to Knowledge (Forbidden)
⭍ Stella's move speed is reduced by 10
⭍ Stella takes [roll0] points of constitution damage
⭍ Stella takes [roll1] points of wisdom damage
⭍ Stella's HP reduced to 0
⭍ Stella's checks other than Forbidden have failed due to Spite
⭍ Knowledge (Local) has been Spited and may not be used until Spite is reduced to 0
(Some effects of Spite remain active until the current value is lessened or removed completely)

֍ Stella XP +200
֍ Aden XP +100
֍ Arina XP +100
֍ Feliks XP +100

[forg99rules]

The anger that came from Hands was something she was not ready for, she was fairly sure that he was angry that Aden had suggested he did a crud job at disabling them but she wanted to make sure he wasn't angry she suggested he worked for the Rellos. She figured there was no problem in smoothing it over though, "Umm well, I'm sorry if what I said offended you. I was under the impression that you were working for the Rellos and therefore could take care of this in their name, If you aren't then my sincerest apologies for miss understanding that. I would also like to thank you for not having killed us even though it would have been like swatting a fly for you, so thank you for that as well." She was fidgeting with her hands as she spoke hoping that what she said smoothed over the ruffled feathers that had came up.

Her heart sank when Hands said that he could not pay for the healing, she had no idea what she was going to do if someone was not able to pay it for her. She listened to them speak about and was surprised that this was a cursed wound, she had figured that normal means wouldn't heal it but a cursed wound was not what she had expected. As they spoke about the Weeping Witch and how she attacked people she wondered briefly if maybe another one of her sisters had survived somehow and were using their abilities to cause the Spirits to attack people. At the mention of the names of the different spirits she was curious what the difference was and what names she would have known them by in her world. The Inquisitor was beginning to worry her when she started talking about dimensional witch's, she was worried that the woman had somehow figured out what she was. She tried not to show her worry and hoped that if anyone noticed the worry that they thought it was more the wound that she was worried about instead of the dimensional witch.

When Afrri Rello entered the room she wasn't sure how she felt, there was a bit of worry at meeting the head of the Rello family bit but at the same time was hopeful that she would take care of the bill. Hearing Afrri say that she had a mind for business was a pleasant thing, though the feeling was cut short by her saying that she didn't have the tongue for subtle matters. She wondered for a second if it was possible that she could learn a bit from someone on how best to gain the tongue for such things. As she listened to Afrri tell the Inquisitor heal her a smile formed on her face that someone was going to fix this screw up. She watched as Afrri walked over to her side and spoke, the fact that she was being taken care of due to the fact they still had an agreement with the Rello family was something she hadn't expected. She figured that she would have had to make a new agreement to receive the aid of the Rellos. Turning her head towards Afrri she figured a bit of gratitude was deserved, "Lady Rello, it is pleasant to see you... I wish it could have been under better circumstances though. You have my gratitude for your assistance in this matter, if there is anything I can help you with to repay your generosity then please let me know and I will do my best to repay it. I am also a bit curious as to what is going on in the city though, Sister Abygael mentioned that there was a witch here using spirits to attack people in a similar way to how I was. I have a bit of experience with spirits as I am a Shaman of sorts myself, if you wish I may be able to provide some assistance with this matter." She began to fidget with her hands a bit again as she spoke as she was nervous that she might screw up in gaining the information she was looking for.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Know Abstracts: (1d20+21)[37] or (1d20+21)[27] - Searching for what names i know the spirits by that Abygael mentioned

Diplomacy: (1d20+6)[16] - Trying to sound like i could be of use and increase my standing with Afrri if possible

[THEChanger]

Aden noted the small crack in Jim Hands' facade, and let the man give his tirade. Professionalism, if I'd wanted you dead you'd be dead, don't insult me yada yada yada. Aden had heard it all before. Jim Hands might be good, but at his core he was no different from the thousand cutpurses and blades for hire Aden had walked circles around back in Korvosa. Men of too much pride, who thought themselves above the rest because they had a code, because they had rules, they did things how things ought to be done.

Well, Aden knew how to play to pride.

Hold the gaze for five seconds, no emotion. Crack a grin. Chuckle. Sweep back hair. Compliment. Predator metaphor. He'll go for that. Dogs and wolves.

"Well, Mister Hands, I do hope you'll accept my apology. I'd mistaken you for one of the Rellos' dogs. But I can see I stand in the presence of a wolf. Course I've got no issue with you, and thank you kindly for dropping us where you did."

The grin Aden had cracked quickly faded as he heard the voice coming from around the corner. His spine straightened as he pulled himself to attention. Aw, come on, why'd it have to be her? She scares the living daylights outta me."

The young woman entered the room, and all the confidence Aden had mustered with Jim Hands fled. This woman, Afrri Rello. Youngest of the Sczarni bosses Aden knew of, and toughest of the lot. How someone so young had done so much, Aden wasn't sure. But that little glint in her eye, it frightened Aden. So much power, and the will behind it so fickle. Wasn't something you could plan for. She reminded Aden just enough of another young woman he had known to make him uncomfortable. Unsurprising, then, when the only thing he could muster was a quiet, and he hoped respectful, "Good afternoon, Miss Rello."

[rs2excelsior]

Arina kept to the back, eyeing the gathering. She gave Jim a bit of a scowl, which she suppressed as quickly as it appeared. Criminals. Leave you in the woods unconscious and call it a kindness. She had to admit the man gave her mixed feelings--he did seem to take pride in what he did, and she could respect that, but she had little use for his sort. Given her own way, they wouldn't deal with such people when they could help it. But life rarely gave such luxuries anymore, especially in this line of work. The other two didn't strike her much better. The sheriff seemed all to comfortable working with the other side of the law, and the inquisitor... Having someone heal Stella who seemed to hold such animosity toward her didn't seem like the smartest idea. But again, she didn't really see what other options they had. This was far out of reach of normal healing, and the woman seemed to know what she was talking about. She shook her head as the woman described the means by which this had been done--using spirits to maim and kill? At one point--hell, just yesterday--Arina would have put herself in that category. She was rapidly becoming aware that these forces were far greater than the piddling influence she had over the spirit world. The thought worried her. Stella had gotten into this predicament by pushing too far, making a misstep with these beings. Could the same happen to her?

She forced those thoughts away and straightened as Afrri Rello walked into the room. They wouldn't do any good, and there was nothing to be done about it now. Perhaps learning more about the staff would help, perhaps she could go back to find the old shaman again. Either way, that was a problem that would be sorted in its own time. She spared a slight nod to the woman. Such an unassuming one, to be the source of so much corruption in this town. Still, if she could get the inquisitor to fix whatever was wrong with Stella... "Good morning," she said, fixing a smile on her face which did not match her mood in the slightest. "I'm sure you're just as eager as we are to have this matter resolved."

[Triskavanski]

"Too many." Feliks grumbled, looking around from person to person. There was entirely too many people in this room. He pauses looking at the witch. Despite the condition of her organs, and the sucking wound in her body she was unnaturally awake, and alert. A wound like that one on anyone else would keep them from moving for a long while. And yet, here she is, remaining quite up right.

As the others talked, he drowned them out approaching the witch as he went through his packages of materials, setting out his surgical tools. A Cursed wound hmm? he thought to himself. There was magic out there that could dispel, or weaken curses. Cold Iron had some strengths against magic as well, though likely that would just push the magic out but wouldn't undo it, unless the wound was like this. Never the less, the first thing as to get the patient patched up enough that they could attempt other methods of healing. What he did have was a vial of troll syptic, perhaps driving her natural ability to heal into overdrive could assist.

Or perhaps fire? Silver? Jade? Too many things unknown, untested, each with lore here and there about how they could help ailments. Still, there was the new healer in the room, pushing in on his job, though he was more than happy to watch them and see if they failed at healing as well.

[Mornings]

22th of Rova, Sunday - Time: 7:39 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Autumn)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
Town of Sandpoint; Town Square

---

Main Quest: Seven Days of Night
Memories of the present were still blurred by those of the past, muddling everything together. Yet, they had not forgotten their time in that other reality... It had perhaps been a lifetime ago, for they had lived each day of both the present and that place they once knew. It was as if they had woken up from the longest dream, and now it was difficult to tell which was real. Whenever the truth fell into question, the needed only look at the grim card still clutched in Stella's grasp. Only the words from the Primeval Dark remain to guide you towards answers, but you can't help feeling as if you're simply grasping at straws.
Difficulty: None| Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: 12 hours
Objective:Rumors have reached your ears of the so called 'Weeping Witch' haunting Sandpoint's streets, and strange creatures have begun appearing around the Sandpoint Hinterlands. This information was bought from Riddleport's Harriers, but the job was undertaken by the veteran hunter Kynd. Whatever the truth is, you must find it before that Offworlder does.

---

The sheriff turned towards the door with a sense of purpose, "Well, if you don't need me. I'll be heading out to deal with other business." Rello nodded quietly as the man grasped the door's handle to leave. "...Hemlock." The sheriff paused, his back facing the killer. He didn't know what it was about Jim's tone that made him flinch. He only knew that it felt, unnatural. Like something was amiss, but he just couldn't place what it was. "Heh. Nevermind." Belor didn't look back, he pushed through the door and stepped out into the blinding morning sun; the rush of voices flooding in then silenced as the heavy door swung shut. He didn't need to answer, he knew what he meant to say.

Jim sneered at the scarred man, "Das' gross, kid. Ya' know how teh' talk like'a mark, but it dun' work so well when'ya look like one'a us. Heh." Rello glanced at Hands while he was going on, "Jim..." The man seemed to not notice, looking at Stella "An' look, not erry' scrub wit'a blade is'a shotcaller. Ain't no offense to dat', but ya need'a see through all da' pomp or ya' gonna' have it rough. Mebbe' ya' da voice des' sods need, but ya' only as good as wut' ya' know an' who ya wit'. It only gonna' git harder." Afrri cleared her throat, "Hands..." He paused, "Ah, sorry." She sighed, "It would behoove you to use this time wisely." The man nodded and stepped closer, "Right. Well, da' matter wit' Plebiltin, dats' settled." "...And the men who were with you?" "Settled. No one else knows." The woman paused contemplatively before looking at Stella with a bright smile, "It appears our business has successfully concluded." She placed a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder, "Please think nothing of this simple gesture. The Rello family always takes care of our friends, I only wish you didn't have to suffer so needlessly. But there is nothing to repay. This is just a kindness between friends." Her shinning smile didn't budge as Stella went on about the inquisitors words, it was almost stiffing. Like a mask of clay, too thick to reflect a hint of the person buried beneath it all. Suffocating. Without a hint of empathy nor kindness. "Of course. I can see how such things might spark your interest." She giggled. It was Clay. Seasonless. Lifeless.

Afrri paused, "...But before that, we should settle our business here in full." Reaching down into a small colorful pouch at her waist, she produced stacks of 10 banded coins. They were platinum, freshly pressed and tightly held together by waxed silken bands. With careful and graceful gesture she placed down a fine handkerchief lined the small parcels of coins across the simple wooden night stand next to the bed which sat unfurnished. It didn't take much math to understand the sum she had delivered; it was five-hundred platinum pieces. "Five-thousand pieces. Regrettably half of sum Mr. Plebilten promised, but at least delivered by much finer company. I will also see any expenses Sister Abygael requires paid for. I know this doesn't make up for the distress caused by this unpleasant encounter, but I hope this might begin to mend such feelings and display the genuine desire of the Rello family to foster pleasant relations between us both." He words didn't seem in-genuine, but the mask remained, leaving a disquieting feeling to the whole encounter. It was as if they were speaking to something that they truly couldn't understand - and that didn't understand them. A cavernous vastness lingered between them, like estranged lovers who had become strangers. (Stella | Diplomacy - Failed)

She looked at Hands somewhat expectantly, "Was'a pleasure, mam." Once again she reached back into her pouch as the man outstretched a hand. This time, stacks of money were not produced, only a single shiny copper coin. It, like the platinum, was also freshly minted and polished. She placed the coin in the man's hand almost ceremoniously. It wasn't special, nor marked with some unique seal. It was a simple Copper Pinch straight from the Bank of Abadar, no more, no less. Jim closed his hand, giving the copper piece a flip off his thumb before catching it and stuffing it in a pocket. He turned away and headed for the door, pausing briefly as he reached the portal, in similar fashion to the sheriff. "Don't wait up for me Abby. I won't be around for awhile." The inquisitor didn't respond at first, blinking as if in thought of how to respond before the words finally came. "...I see." Afrri looked over to the man as he opened the door, once again the light poured in and laughter rushed into the once quiet room's interior. "Hands." The man glanced back over his shoulder, casting a silhouette against the bright shapelessness of his backdrop of light. "Goodbye." The man grinned, "Later on, kid." He stormed out, the door slamming behind him with a resounding crash, snuffing out the light and voices from the world beyond the simple stone walls. Though it was impossible to know just where the man was off to, Afrri's tone struck an odd-cord. They could only be certain Jim Hands would never return.

---

Ͽ ◯ Ͼ

---

Afrri turned back to Stella as Feliks moved towards the bed, the smile had returned. "Now, where were we?" The young crimelord turned and pulled a weather-faded poster from the wall. The colors had bled and stained the paper, but a crude and freighting blotted image remained. It looked like a monstrous creature from a fairytale donning a witch's hat, the disfigured poster was difficult to read but some characters of a name written in Taldane remained at the head of the wanted poster; 'E-F-A-' "Perhaps you've heard of her?" She placed the parchment on Stella's lap. "Efal of Nine Talons, quite the infamous criminal. The only witch executed after the brief commotion in recent history. She was under my employ, for a short spell, hehe." She giggled at her own pun, but it was mirthless. "At the time she had yet to rise to fame of infamy which she resides today. Though, had I known the abductions, mutilations, and child-murders were her doing, I would have made efforts to at least keep her association with the family private. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case and thus we couldn't protect our own when her deeds came to light. The method she used to torture and butcher her victims was near identical to your own wound. Thus, the concern. Efal was burned at the stake, but rumors of spirits and other nonsense continued to circulate even after her death. The only thing which changed was they no longer found bodies littering the streets. They simply disappeared. Seeing your condition, is quite unsettling. If you've no means to defend against such attacks, I implore you to cease such pursuits until you've acquired a means of suitable defense. These Veilwitches, as they're called, are no trifle. They will destroy you utterly with their unnatural command of these strange spirits, if you act carelessly." Rello turned her gaze to the inquisitor, "Don't let Sister Abygael trouble you too greatly. A great deal of explanations and theories now revolve around this macabre magic. Isn't that right?" The skull faced woman didn't respond. Afrri looked at Feliks's contemplative face, "Are you a Chirurgeon? You may deal with this matter any way you see fit, but if you require the Sister's assistance you will have it. I would recommend you start sooner, rather than later. I hear it can take quite some time to complete the remedy." Afrri stood from the bedside, retrieving her bow. "Actually, I'm quite curious now... Sister, how long would this take you to mend?" The haunting woman's face didn't turn, but her eyes slowly rotated towards Stella, like a doll; then slowly moved back towards Afrri. "....Two days. Alone." Rello raised a brow, mentally questioning what kind of magical aide took two days to apply. "Once begun, we cannot stop. I will need quiet to focus." Her doll-eyes slowly shifted towards the man's surgical equipment, "No distractions..."

---

Ͽ ◯ Ͼ

---

Stella knew those names... yet something about them seemed so elusive. The words came to her, like the text of a book she had read once before, yet it lacked all context. The fierce spirits which this Efal of Nine Talons had used the inquisitor called 'Daka'. They were spirits, nature spirits which hunted and hungered. They mirrored wolves in both their inclinations and manifestations, while difficult to break to ones will, it could be done. Like taming a feral dog, once reined in, they were a vicious force to be reckoned with. Yet the other name, was rough and difficult to understand with what she knew. Murrpau were wild and seemingly impossible to tame for most, living to their own desires. Both of these different forms of those entities Afsppa'sol had called Elil. (Stella | Knowledge Abstract - Partial)

---

Side-Quest Complete: The Rat of Korvosa
Mastil Pebeltin has gone missing. Likely abducted by the Rello family, the man has a great deal of enemies in Varisia among every Sczarni faction. Still the man was paying well, despite his underhanded methods. You were fortunate to have come to terms with Lady Rello before this mess got out of hand, or you may have bitten off more than you could chew. Saving Pebeltin would bring greater profit, but sour relations with the Sczarni - while meeting with the Rello family and concluding their business would deepen their bond. Crossing a crime family like the Rellos was not a wise decision, but among the Sczarni friends and enemies often shifted from one to another. It was a matter of respect and reputation. Choices were rarely easy.
Difficulty: Low | Status: On-going | Profit: Significant | Time: 48 hours
Objective: Meet with Affri Rello & claim reparations - (Less reward/Increase Reputation)

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LEVEL UP - ADVANCEMENT: LEVEL 4

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Spoiler: Rewards

Show

֍ 500pp (5,000gp) placed on table.


Stella HP: 1/17
✦ Spited (Returner)
⭍ Spite increases by 1 (Knowledge: Forbidden)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increase due to Knowledge (Forbidden)
⭍ Stella's move speed is reduced by 10
⭍ Stella takes [roll0] points of constitution damage
⭍ Stella takes [roll1] points of wisdom damage
⭍ Stella's HP reduced to 0
⭍ Stella's checks other than Forbidden have failed due to Spite
⭍ Knowledge (Local) has been Spited and may not be used until Spite is reduced to 0
(Some effects of Spite remain active until the current value is lessened or removed completely)

֍ Stella XP +150
֍ Aden XP +200
֍ Arina XP +100
֍ Feliks XP +150

[forg99rules]

She listened as Hands spoke, his words made sense to her now. She had the wrong idea about him in thinking he could have spoke for the Rellos. He was not wrong though with his words, she did need to see through all the Pomp and also understood that she was only as good as those that she kept company with. She was sure that the others had some abilities that could be useful but she hadn't had the time yet to see them bring it forth. Feliks had shown some worth in trying to treat her wounds, but she felt that he hadn't understood exactly what had happened to her or why it had happened. The fact that he pulled out surgical tools while Sister Abygael was there to fix her wounds was causing her a bit of worry as she did not want someone messing with her insides in such a way.

Afrri seemed to want to get to the business with Plebiltin, she held no problems with such a thing but she did still find it odd that Afrri was willing to pay twenty thousand gold to fix her up. The face that Afrri wore was causing the hairs on her neck to stand on end, she had no idea what the girls game was but she hoped that it was not something she would end up regretting. As she watched Afrri pull out the stack of fresh platinum she was glad that at least the Rellos family was holding up that part of the bargain. Afrri's words seemed genuine enough to her but the face that Afrri held while speaking with her brought out worries. She had met someone else long ago when she had first came to this world. The man had seemed nice enough and always had a smile on when she was around. It was actually him that had caused her to start putting on her own mask when she was around others, but while hers was more of a defense mechanism his was of the darker nature. She had found out that he had meant harm to her, it was several months after she had met him that he had tried to sell her off to some slavers. She had seen to it that he would never be able to do that again but it had left a bad taste in her mouth ever since. As she looked up at Afrri she wondered what nature this mask held hidden behind it.

Her eyes flowed over to Hands as he and Afrri completed their part of the transaction. As Afrri paid him with a single copper pinch her eyes went wide at teh amazement and wonder as to why this man whom had done such a splendid job was getting paid so little. Surely he should have gotten more than they had, after all Hands was known in this town and had some relations with the Rellos family already. Blinking several times to try and cover up her reaction she frowned as she tried to think of a reason as to why Hands received next to nothing for the Job. Her mind mulled over how the Sheriff had stated that Hands had been rich, and then over how Hands had said something happened to all his money. Now listening to Hands as he left she was even more curious by his statement that he would not be around for awhile. She decided that for the moment the curiosity would have to sit aside as she most likely would not find anything down that route.

---

It was just Afrri and the Sister left now along with the other Gales in the room. She waited and listened as Afrri explained who the Witch was that had been supposedly causing havoc in the town. Efal of Nine Talons was a name that she had heard of, it was the single supposed real true witch that had been captured and killed. The knowledge that her remains had been spread around Varisia was something that caused her a bit of worry, if the woman was a true witch or Veilwitch then its possible that she was still linked to those body parts and was using them to affect this world. The odds of the witch being one of her sisters though was a curious thing, she thought she was the last one but if Efal was a veilwitch then maybe she could learn something from her. At the warning from Afrri that veilwitch's aren't ones to be trifled with she tried her best to keep her face blank and not show that humor that tried to creep up on it.

Her attention turned towards Feliks as Afrri spoke to him, as much as she hoped that the man could mend her she felt that this was a bit outside of his realm. If the Sister was correct and this was more a curse than a normal wound then the tools that he had pulled out would basically be worthless in fixing her. Listening as Afrri brought up the one question that she had been evading asking or thinking suddenly caused her heart rate to spike. The woman's eyes turned to fall on her causing her to squirm slightly underneath them, the nervousness that she had was suddenly and swiftly erased though at the reply from the woman. Two day, she couldn't believe what she heard. This wound would take two days to be fix and she was guessing that also including whatever curse had been placed with it. Her jaw went slack and her eyes were wide with the news, "Are you serious, two days... what could possibly be causing it to take you two days for this? I mean I understand what sort of being did this to me but still i wouldn't think it would take you two days to fix it." Angry followed shortly on her face as she realized that she would not have the time to search for the weeping witch, "Gah, I have stuff i need to do... i was hoping to be able to assist with this issue you have with Efal. She has answers to questions that i have and with Kynd hunting for her as well i don't have the time to wait around..." Turning her eyes to her party, "I doubt that the time can be cut down so it looks like you will have to work without me for the next two days, but hey at least i can't horribly mess things up this time..." Her eyes flowed over those collected till they fell on Afrri, shaking her head a bit she put on her best smile as she realized that Afrri might not want them messing with Efal. "That of course is if Lady Rello is willing to let us search for Efal and get the answers we seek. I believe it would help keep our relationship pleasant if you would allow us to find her and investigate what we need to." She let the question sit with Afrri hoping that the woman wanted what they did... Answers...

[Triskavanski]

Feliks just looked at her, then looked to Stella. It may have been out of his reach for now, and for now, he wasn't about to let his own hubris get in the way of getting the witch healed. It was going to be a long project, as he suspected this was not going to be the last time he saw these sorts of wounds, and he already had plans to put her through a lengthy medical examination afterwards.

Still, he did let out a long drawn out sigh as he packed his tools back up again. "Very well." was all he simply said. After all the only thing worse than helping the witch was failing to, and making it worse. At the very least he could have the smug satisfaction of rubbing the woman's failure in her face when her magic goes wrong, but at the same time packing up and leaving gracefully prevented her from being able to do the same when she succeeded. Especially since he much rather have her succeed so he could learn more.

[rs2excelsior]

Arina met the other woman's smile with her own, just as false. A kindness, I'm sure. One you'll cash in later on when it suits you. She did not like that they were further entangling themselves with the Rellos, but if it had to be done to get Stella back on her feet... "You are most generous," she told Afrri, her voice even despite her feelings. Something about her manner made Arina's skin crawl. The manner in which she spoke, so... forced. Presenting this persona to the world, almost as if she was daring them to see through it. Don't look closer... or else. She had seen her father deal with other nobles who had much the same manner--vipers, he called them. They would lie silent until they saw an opportunity to strike... She had no doubt Afrri would use this past "kindness" to leverage something for her benefit at the first opportunity. And crossing the Sczarni was not something Arina was willing to do--or any person who enjoyed continuing to live should.

She didn't like the sound of Stella being out of commission for two days, but they could't afford to give Kynd that much of a head-start. Stella seemed to be the one with the most knowledge about these witches--maybe even was one herself, if Denil had been right. We've done more with less, she thought with an internal grimace. "Don't worry about it, Stella," she told the young woman, trying to avoid staring at the gaping wound. It really was unsettling. "We'll fill you in once you're healed."

[THEChanger]

"Hey Hands! Hope I see you around. You seem like you could be a fun time."

Aden gave the killer a short wave as he walked away. He was fairly certain that the next time he and Hands met, they would be at each others throats. Sometimes, you just know. It would be a fun time.

Leaving Stella alone with this inquisitorial freakshow was not his idea of a fun time. Going to hunt down another witch without the one person who actually sort of understood what in the Hells was going on with witches, even less so. He laid a hand on Stella's shoulder, and squeezed it gently. "Get better soon. Guess we'll hit the ground, see what we can find out about protecting ourselves from creepy witches."

The thief began to gather up his things, to give the healer the privacy she needed. Pack ready, he nodded to Affri. "Many thanks for your assistance, Miss Rello. With your blessing, the three of us will start gathering information on what happened to our friend. Be a shame if something like this were to happen to someone else."

[Mornings]

22th of Rova, Sunday - Time: 7:44 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Autumn)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
Town of Sandpoint; Town Square

The inquisitor once again stood as cold and idle as a corpse, her gaze trailing off elsewhere, yet she still spoke in response. "Efal is dead. There is no issue." Afrri nodded in agreement, as she looked towards the others. "It is as the Sister says. The Witch of Nine Talons is burned and scattered across the land. If she had any secrets which you sought, she took them to her grave. Sandpoint is becoming quite infamous for witches of late, but I assure you she is at least not one of them. Feel free to continue looking for whatever it is you might be seeking. I only ask you don't interfere with the business of my subordinates in doing so."

The young crimelord paused briefly. A flutter in her eyes. Turning back she looked at Stella with a wiry grin, "Who was that hunting for Efal again?" This time the young witch found the intense gloomy gaze of Sister Abygael, she could see the white of the woman's unblinking eyes. "...Where did you hear that name, Kynd?" Rello moved back towards Stella's bedside, with the same quiet grin, as if contemplating something genuinely intriguing. Perhaps. It was a different face than any she'd seen the woman wear before. It wouldn't have been an exaggeration to say the young Sczarni mastermind could swap faces and personality with an effortless grace. "So, you're saying... She's coming here. To Sandpoint. For a witch she knows is dead." She placed her pursed lips to her hand, eyes wandering off elsewhere with her thoughts, in perhaps honest brainstorming. The break didn't last for long as she seemed to come to a conclusion to whatever had been her dilemma with an unsettling speed and certainty; as if she already held an answer which stood unquestionable. "You've already been more help than you know, miss Astral. I'm glad we could be friends." The quiet smile she wore wasn't feigned, there was something decidedly genuine about it, but the gleam in her eyes was disquieting and near diabolical.

It only lasted for a brief second, but it was that second that reminded her that Afrri Rello was indeed a Sczarni crimelord. For very few people could build a reputation of trust and confidence while navigating the social storm that stood between the city-states, then so suddenly produce a look steeped in horrid bloody violence. Hers was a sword which cut both ways. Where there was so much good, there was still a definitive and incontrovertible bleak and perturbing truth. A truth oft forgotten, but so immediately remembered when staring in the eyes of true and dire evil. The inquisitor's question sent a proverbial quake through the room. They could each feel it. The question. The answer. It spun off scratching and clattering like an old screw around the edge of a rusted steel sink, faster and faster as it approached the fall into the dark and foreboding narrowing space of those misbegotten pipes. It was a rumor. Was it? Why? Why did it matter. Why did they care? They didn't know.

It was as if something were cut and roughly pasted within their thoughts, without reason nor cause. The room begun to feel oppressive, heavy and humid. Choking. The screw spun faster. Was it the dream. Was it the voice in the dark? When did they hear about Sandpoint. Where? Something was there. Something lurked beneath the faded, fake memories. Splitting prongs of pain crashed through each of their minds as small blurry glimpses, flashes of something and somewhere else revealed themselves beneath the haze, confusion and fog. There was a path. A dog snarled. There was a woman with silver hair. Many doors, countless doors. Between the flickers, one brief second flashed clear within their minds.

Laughter.

A faceless woman spun about wildly within the miasma of a dis-conjoined consciousness. Her mouth moved, they knew there was words, but in that one damaged fraction of a second which shown clear, all they could hear was silence. She smiled.

The dizzying sensation quickly subsided and in its place was a knowing. An understanding that whatever they had done, whatever they had broken. It was broke here too. It wasn't just the world, they were also changed; like minds who had stolen their own bodies in a different time. The card might have brought them here, but there was time, travel - entire spans of something between then and their transition to this world that they couldn't remember. It was blurred and painted over with lies and what they might have known here. The inquisitor slowly blinked. Afrri seemed to take note of the unexpected change in atmosphere, she turned her attention back to Stella. "Are you well? Perhaps you'd best rest." Patting the witch on the head she gathered herself and rose. "I do believe you are confused regarding some matters, but other portions of what you've said appears to be true. You've done me a service, so I feel it's only right I do the same for you. Kynd is a very unique Anthro-Offworlder, who rumors mention having crossed through numerous worlds, such as ours. Unfortunately, she is also well known for being a wild murderous brute when confronted. Maiming and murdering before vanishing without a trace. She's killed my men and gone on uncontested for quite some time. It's been all we could do just gathering information and attempting to track her arrival and departure to cities. Anything else wasn't possible without knowing where she would be ahead of time." Her face took on a serious expression as she looked at the others, "Whatever you do, do not cross swords with that thing. She is not a human, she is a creature. More of a product of the Long Night than anything else. Her weapons are not of this world, and her abilities are inhuman. I've seen her split good men in halves with a hand, both ways. I don't understand what all she can and cannot do, but we were able to confirm why she was impossible to apprehend; she's fast. Unfathomably so. There's roughly two-hundred and thirty two miles between Sandpoint and the City of Monuments, and I received word it only took less than a half hour before she arrived. She had run the whole way..." Pausing briefly, she considered her words. "I understand Gales also possess similar abilities, but this is not an enemy which can be bested unprepared. You will die. Whatever you intend to do, if it conflicts with her own objective, you best see to it quickly before she sets upon you. "

Afrri gestured at the filled table as she crossed the room, approaching the door. "See you don't leave your money behind either." As she grasped the door's latch she paused, "Thorne, see that they don't get killed." The woman pushed open the door sharply and left before the light and roiling sound could pour into the room. After a brief moment a voice spoke out in delayed response, coughing "Cah, very well." A man sat bundled in a multitude of cloaks in the far corner of the room, clutching his knees feebly coughing occasionally and wiping the blood on his dark blond beard on a sleeve. Beneath the mounds of fabric not much was visible, he looked like a shambling man who had been caught in a clothes line. Impossible to miss, yet they had not seen him. It was as if he suddenly was there. The man coughed again. The inquisitor's head slowly turned like a wind-up doll to look over her shoulder but she spoke to the others. "The creature called Kynd is a Murrpau spirit. Like those which did this to you, girl. It cannot be stopped by the might of a sword-arm. Such possession is common for their kind." The man coughed again, pulling the cloth which obscured his left arm to reveal an unusual time-piece strapped to his wrist. "If you're going. Go. 20 minutes..."

---

Main Quest: Seven Days of Night
Memories of the present were still blurred by those of the past, muddling everything together. Yet, they had not forgotten their time in that other reality... It had perhaps been a lifetime ago, for they had lived each day of both the present and that place they once knew. It was as if they had woken up from the longest dream, and now it was difficult to tell which was real. Whenever the truth fell into question, the needed only look at the grim card still clutched in Stella's grasp. Only the words from the Primeval Dark remain to guide you towards answers, but you can't help feeling as if you're simply grasping at straws.
Difficulty: Lethal | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: 20 minutes
Objective:Rumors have reached your ears of the so called 'Weeping Witch' haunting Sandpoint's streets, and strange creatures have begun appearing around the Sandpoint Hinterlands. This information was bought from Riddleport's Harriers, but the job was undertaken by the veteran hunter Kynd. Whatever the truth is, you must find it before that Offworlder does.

The realization that this world was not safe nor perfect came in the form of a storm of fragmented memories. However they had been brought to this world, it was not immediate nor uneventful. Something had changed, both in them and the world they had found themselves in. The Divergence which had altered so much still remained, throwing confusion into their lives. The only thing they could know for certain was that the Primeval Dark had seen fit to guide them in finding three mysterious figures. The Weeping Witch had to have been the first among them, but time was quickly bleeding away. A creature unlike any which they had faced before stood looming upon a horizon which promised what may be the first answers to the insanity they found on all sides. There was no guarantee this nightmare would end, but at least they could face it.

---

Spoiler: Rewards | EXP

Show

֍ 500pp (5,000gp) placed on table.


Stella HP: 1/17
✦ Spited (Returner)
⭍ Spite increases by 1 (Knowledge: Forbidden)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increase due to Knowledge (Forbidden)
⭍ Stella's move speed is reduced by 10
⭍ Stella takes [roll0] points of constitution damage
⭍ Stella takes [roll1] points of wisdom damage
⭍ Stella's HP reduced to 0
⭍ Stella's checks other than Forbidden have failed due to Spite
⭍ Knowledge (Local) has been Spited and may not be used until Spite is reduced to 0
(Some effects of Spite remain active until the current value is lessened or removed completely)

֍ Stella XP +100
⯎ Leadership Influence Gained
⯎ Aristocracy Influence Gained
⯎ Trickery Influence Gained
⯎ Deception Influence Gained
⯎ Espionage Influence Gained
⯎ Greed Influence Gained
⯎ Charm Influence Gained
⯎ Captivation Influence Gained
⯌ Fate Influence Lost
⯌ Curse Influence Lost

֍ Aden XP +200
⯎ Tactics Influence Gained

֍ Arina XP +100
⯎ Friendship Influence Gained
⯎ Good Influence Gained
⯌Divination Influence Lost

֍ Feliks XP +200
⯎ Alchemy Influence Gained
⯎ Medicine Influence Gained
⯌ Magic Influence Lost

[forg99rules]

She listened as Afrri explained that Efal was dead, the Sister stating such just previously as well. It seemed though that at least Afrri gave the blessing to seek the answers that they had been here for, whatever they might be. The sudden attention that was drawn to her when she spoke Kynds name worried her, both Afrri and Abygael were looking at her in a way that cause her pulse to quicken. Afrri's smile and mention of being friends did little to quell the worry, "I also am glad we could be friends, the alternative would have not been beneficial for either of us I feel." She plastered a smile onto her face hoping that it seemed genuine enough to hide the worry. The evil in Afrri's eyes was a reminder for her to never cross the woman less she end up vanishing without a trace.

Her mind started spinning searching for the answer as to where she had heard that Kynd was coming. It could not keep up as it spun faster seeking the answer that it did not have, the pain was quick lasting only a moment. The vision that flashed that took her suddenly was fleeting, the snarl of a dog... a woman with silver hair... Countless doors leading to places she could not understand... the worry she felt increased suddenly. Then the laughter came, beads of sweat started forming on her brow as her chest felt as if a huge weight was crushing it. She knew not what being was toying with them nor did she want to meet one as worrisome as this one seemed to be. The smile of a faceless woman was the last thing to flash through her mind, a tear rolled down her cheek as a primal fear took over. Whoever she had seen was someone that she could not handle at this time, she could only hope that it would leave her alone.

Reaching her hand up to her face she wiped the tear from her cheek as Afrri pat her head. Looking up at the woman she nodded at her to show that she was alright, though she knew that truly she wasn't. Her mind turned back towards the vision she had just experienced as Afrri explained what and who Kynd was. The snarl of a dog had been curious enough, it may have been a creature with relations to Afsppa'sol or possibly Ulbeelta though she was not sure. Then there was the woman she had seen, she left that alone for now though as the countless doors drew her attention. They felt familiar to her for some reason, she could not place why but she knew that they were important somehow as so far she had seen two doors herself. The first one when the card had warped them to this world, the second was when Ulbeelta had warned her not to go messing around with powers she did not understand. Her mind pulled back to the now and ran through all that had been said by Afrri, the warning she gave not to mess with Kynd less they die was one that she planned to take to heart as death was not her wish. "I will take what you said to heart, Death is not something I plan on trying out at this time and I don't believe the others want it either. I also thank you for the information regarding Kynd, I hope that the others will use it well." She bowed her head towards Afrri in respect as the woman took her leave.

Her head bolted back up at the appearance of the man in the room, how she hadn't seen him was not something she pondered for long. She had been busy trying to get her wound healed while ensuring good relations with the Rellos and that they found the truth that they were seeking in this world. Her eyes widened as the Sister explained that Kynd was a Murrpau spirit, she at least now knew what kind of being had done such devastating damage to her body though now she began wondering how one would fight such a being. Her attention was drawn back to the man that was coughing constantly, the odd contraption strapped to his wrist wound have brought a sense of wonder to her if not for all that had just been discovered. The man said they had 20 minutes, for what there could only be one thing. They had very little time to find their answers and she would still not be able to assist them with such a task, she reached over and grabbed twelves stacks of platinum for herself quickly tucking them away into the wound between her breasts for safe keeping. Turning her attention to the others she figured it was best they move quickly to find what they needed,"Less time than we hoped for, be careful as you search for the answers we need but also be quick. Take your portion of the pay and head off, stay together and watch each others backs. If it becomes to dangerous or time is about to run out pull back and we can figure out what to do later on..." Turning her attention to Sister Abygael, she shifted around till she was comfortable "Sister, Whenever you are ready you can start." She hoped that this wasn't the last time that she saw the others, they had their uses and she would hate to have to try and find replacements for them.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Know Abstract: (1d20+23)[25] or (1d20+23)[33] - Knowledge about to the doors, what i can remember or what i feel they are

Know Abstract: (1d20+23)[24] or (1d20+23)[37] - Seeking how to fight against a being such as a Murrpau spirit

Took 12 stacks of platinum = 120pp... bit less than 1/4 but didnt feel like bothering to try and split it evenly as that would have to break down the platinum into gold pieces

[THEChanger]

"Hell's Bells." Aden snatched the bag of platinum off the table, not bothering to divy the rest up, and started for the door. "We needed weeks, maybe days, not minutes. We need some way to find her. Need a way to keep track of the other one. Whatever the Whispering one is. Witch of the Nine Talons or no. That's our objective, and that thing will beat us in a foot race." The thief racked his brain for something, any lead or place to start that might put them ahead of this demon in the search for the Whispering Witch.

Spoiler

Show

Rolling Arcana and History for information that might be useful in locating old whispers. Makes me wish I had picked some class knowledge skills like, oh I don't know, maybe Knowledge Local, but what can you do.

Arcana - (1d20+6)[15]
History - (1d20+6)[13]

"Miss Rello, you wouldn't happen to know the last person to disappear under mysterious circumstances here in Sandpoint?" Aden wanted to add a snarky comment about not including disappearances that were the fault of the Rello family, but now was perhaps not the time to go making enemies with their one potential ally in the city. "At the very least, we need a place to start looking."

Outwardly, Aden was fairly certain he was keeping his cool. Inwardly, his heart had sunk through his feet and his stomach was doing laps around his ribcage. Something like that, something that could move faster than they could see, how could they hope to beat that? Aden knew his curse meant he could seriously hurt anything he could hit, but if he couldn't land the blow that meant nothing. If it came to blows, this Kynd would almost certainly kill them. The Whispering Witch they knew even less about. Stella and Affri had given them a little to go on, but they were mostly flying blind. That had almost gotten them all killed. Twice.

Well, at least there was that to look forward to. Maybe he'd get his taste of oblivion after all. That'd be nice. To rest, after all this madness.

[Mornings]

He lay twisted upon the floor. It was so cold. The foul smell choked him, the rancid buzz of decay, waste and fecal matter all stirring together to create a disgusting brown haze which drifted in the air. It was so potent it burned the eyes and stung the throat with each breath. The miasma clung to the skin and befouled everything it touched with its humid smog. He would have covered his face were his hands not bound behind his back, he couldn't even be sure what held them but the wilting pain from his shattered leg was more certain. They had beat him. Thoroughly. That old man... Haugen he called himself. He said he 'had questions', but he never asked them. Instead his henchmen beat him nearly to death, and when they finished they took a sledge to his leg for good measure. The old man watched the whole thing without ever speaking. Then they left him. Left him here, wherever here was. It wasn't just dark, the entire dungeon-like expanse was filled with the thick brown miasma. He was certain they had to have been either in, or close to the sewers.

---

Three Years Ago...

Asiresh had returned to Magnimar. The City of Monuments held a special place in his heart. In another life he had come to this city with his master and seen them lay its first stones. The nostalgia had motivated his steps to be sure, but that was not the sole reason he had come. He sought another, Luka Heidmarch. Once she had been perhaps his only friend, his only companion lifetimes ago. She would have still been a child, but he couldn't resist the urge to find her once again. Once upon a time, he'd seen her grow into an adult and stand at his side against abominations which threatened to end everything. While she might have still been young, if she was still in this world then without a doubt she would have still harbored the spirit of the Queen of the Hunt. Even if she slept, where she went so too did the Maw of Winter. Now that he had returned, the memories of lives long past dimly glowed like cinders in his heart. More than an oath bound them now, for like them, he was also Elil. The lord of the Dalhar D'Inlé would speak to him, if he could be found.

It had been a sound and reasonable plan. Yet, things had gone awry. When he arrived at the Heidmarch Lodge he had found the girl to be missing. Rumors. A suspected kidnapping. Like any Pathfinder, you took the job to bring the girl home. Clues dragged the chase on and on, but confirmed at least that Luka was still in this world. A fact which brought a great sense of relief. Unlike her worried parents he didn't share their sense of worry, for he knew Luka's greatest secret. She was the Emerald Gale, a fearsome vigilante protected by the two most powerful Relicuum this side of reality. There wasn't very much which could threaten her short of his own brother, Sino'fel, or his sisters. He severely doubted that a small child would have come to odds against the Children of the three Houses. He would never find out. Entering Underbridge alone had been his first mistake. He knew she had come this way, tracking her movements by scent, but he couldn't have known what waited for him.

Darkness was brewing beneath the city, festering. It had gone unchecked for too long. The scent had brought him beneath the Irespan, beneath the city, to Uderbridge's darkest depths. Strange men and even stranger creatures had been laying in wait for him. Creature's without faces, and dead-eyed men armed to the teeth. They violently subdued him... and it was then that he had the pleasure of meeting the old man, Haugen.

---

This hell hole was filled with rot and decay, the air stagnated and coated anything which remained in here too long with a thick brown sludge. The side of his face was pressed down in the very thing, it permeated his clothes and soaked him in the nauseating filth. The claustrophobic halls were not quiet nor empty. Young children, some in chains, dragged corpses out of the room while others scrubbed the stone tiles and attempted to clean the floors and walls. An impossible task. A large man who wore a crude leather mask lumbered through the room every few minutes. He stood over six feet, donned only in scum covered pants and a butcher's apron. He was frequently dripping with blood when he passed, dragging a violent bladed chain behind him. The young ones wouldn't look at him. Too afraid to acknowledge the beast. Sometimes he would come into Asiresh's cell just to hack at him with the well-worn cleaver which hung from a steel hook on his belt. Then he would simply shamble away. He beast never spoke, only gestured and grunted like an animal. Eventually a child would come to his cell to stitch his wounds closed and patch up the holes. He was left in a constant state of pain and suffering.

Within the endless state of agony, he saw things. Visions. His mind would constantly drift in and out of consciousness, and with it came the strange dreams. His soul wound find itself drawn back into that familiar darkness. Within that realm of silence, that void of emptiness, he would see things - sometimes even hear things. Whispers.

His head reeled. Between the blood loss and his broken incorrigible state, he was a sad wretch wilting in the muck and gelatinous decay. For once it was quiet. There was no light, but he had been left within the depths of this place for so long he couldn't be certain if he could even see should light find him. He laid motionless upon the stone like a corpse. It hurt to move anymore. The old man saw to that. A glint caught his eye, something he had never seen within these walls before. He dared not hope. Yet the small blue glimmer bobbed off in the distance moving closer. He had been left in the dark and silence so long, without even imaginary words to ease his suffering, he had begun to think only the whispers within his terrible visions would hear him. The light finally slid through the rusted steel bars of his cell, though there was no door to the chamber. It was a small winged ball of blue light. The fairy bumped into his head a few times like a moth drawn to flame before speaking in a nostalgic high tone "Hello my friend. It is I - P'yii, Teller of Truth!"

---

Main Quest: Goodnight World
They had crushed your very existence. Scattered your soul across the realms and existence and cast you down into the filth of the mortal's world. Yet still you remained, still you struggled. Still you lived. A few hundred million years had found you in perhaps the worst state you had ever been, feeble and old. Even the body which you found yourself inhabiting could not be called the original. You've suffered chilling nights and blistering mornings, tortured and mangled, waiting for this chance. The devil which once haunted you many lifetimes ago had vanished, never to be seen again it seemed since you came to this world. It had been the first time in a long time you had ever been truly alone. Now it was time to destroy those who plotted against you, reclaim your birthright, and set the Cycle right. You were coming home.
Difficulty: Moderate | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: None
Progress: (0/2)
Primary Objective: Escape
Alternate Objective: Find your brother, Sino'fel

---

Caught between his own delusions and the situation at hand, he tried to stave off the blackness of his fading consciousness. He had been waiting for so long for this moment, this chance, he had feared that it might not ever come at all. Though even the muscles in his face were pained by it, he couldn't help but smile. He'd saved this world once. Abandoned it another, and left humanity in the hands of their of their own gods. Their choices, their failures, were not his own. This needless Spite, this unjustifiable suffering... There could have been another way. If this world didn't exist, if they didn't remake it, rebuild it, corrupt it. Things would have been different. This wasn't his home. This wasn't his world. This time he wouldn't stop, he'd force his way out by any means. Reclaim himself, reclaim his spirit, reclaim his wife and the life that was stripped from him. Now all of the pieces were here, in this room. He would need that devil, the Exiled Son.

Days in Captivity: 673

Spoiler: Status

Show

Asiresh HP: 7/28
✦ Asiresh's hands are bound (Escape Artist DC 15 | Disable Device DC 15 | Strength Check DC 15) - (requires 5 minutes)
✦ Asiresh's equipment is scattered about the room, not on his person
✦ Asiresh is nauseated while he remains in the smog (DC20 Fort to resist for 1d3 rounds)


✦ Spited: 50 (Exiled Son)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (1)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (2)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (3)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (4)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (5)

✦ Wounds: Asiresh
⭍ Land speed reduced to 10 ft - Cannot run (Broken Leg | Heal DC 20)
⭍ Strenuous actions deal 1 point of damage (Broken Bones | Heal DC 15)
⭍ Strenuous actions have a 10% chance of causing bleed 1d4 rounds (Lacerations | Heal 10 hp or Heal DC 15)

[Triskavanski]

Feliks look back and forth between all the different people unamused. Seemed every few minutes someone new would walk through that door and be creepy for a while. He looked to the witch laying in the bed as he knew it was her doing. Something about her attracted all these weirdos... he paused his train of thought for a moment wondering if he was one of the weirdos too. At least he didn't tattoo his face with a skull or wear that obviously fake smile.

He rubbed an ear when there was that blip in the sound. He was getting used to it, and he didn't know if he should be frightened by that revelation. What he did know was these people were being rather annoying. He half wondered where the halfling was and if he could hitch a ride back, rather than dealing with all this mess. But at the same time, the wound that Strella had was something he felt he needed to learn more about, especially if he was ever going to defeat the ratfaced traitor of the gales.

He looked at the time piece the newcomer had. "We need to leave in twenty minutes?" he asks, looking over the others as they didn't seem to even notice the old ragity man with blood all over his beard and sleeve. It wasn't until after he spoke that he inwardly cursed at himself. The old man was one of those spirit things that the others kept causing issues with that much he was certain.

[iValkyrieX]

Asiresh

Beaten and left to die, only to be sewn up so he can live on to endure another day of hell. No, this was not hell. He had seen hell, he had lived it, but this was not it. The day mother cast her own child away in his quest for power, that was his hell. The day his name was striped from him and he had been cast out of the family with a name so repulsive he cannot even speak it. That was his true hell, though this is a close mortal hell.

He Lifted himself up the best he could to see the blue light face to....light. Asiresh nearly died ten times over by now as he looks at the light and smirks before speaking. "So my time has come has it? The day a devil himself has come to take me. Ah those were the days...." His mind trails off as if lost in a distant memory of a time long forgotten to any mortal of this realm. Somehow he was able to retain memories of his past lives. "You need a host don't you? Allow me to take that place. Take me as your host and any creature we cast down in our quest is yours for the reaping. Souls and all."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Welp, hi guys...*waves*

[Mornings]

---

Main Quest: Goodnight World
They had crushed your very existence. Scattered your soul across the realms and existence and cast you down into the filth of the mortal's world. Yet still you remained, still you struggled. Still you lived. A few hundred million years had found you in perhaps the worst state you had ever been, feeble and old. Even the body which you found yourself inhabiting could not be called the original. You've suffered chilling nights and blistering mornings, tortured and mangled, waiting for this chance. The devil which once haunted you many lifetimes ago had vanished, never to be seen again it seemed since you came to this world. It had been the first time in a long time you had ever been truly alone. Now it was time to destroy those who plotted against you, reclaim your birthright, and set the Cycle right. You were coming home.
Difficulty: Moderate | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: None
Progress: (0/2)
Primary Objective: Escape
Alternate Objective: Find your brother, Sino'fel

---

The sprite bobbed in the air, as if taken aback. For a moment there was no response to the old half-elf's words. Then a different voice spoke, deep and ancient. "Strange. How strange. To see through this disguise. Very well, I am bested." A phantasmal figure loomed up, standing some seven feet tall. He stood cloaked in a massive cowl, though it hid his face, the great elk horns he wore protruded from his crown through holes in his hood. A clawed haunting hand held out a black ring, "If what you say is your desire, don the the Soul Eater's Crucible. Then we shall be bound." The venerable man knew well that one didn't actually have to 'don' the thing, but truly just touch it. He hadn't expected to catch the devil unawares, but it seemed this time things stood in his favor.

Spoiler: Status

Show

Asiresh HP: 7/28
✦ Asiresh's hands are bound (Escape Artist DC 15 | Disable Device DC 15 | Strength Check DC 15) - (requires 5 minutes)
✦ Asiresh's equipment is scattered about the room, not on his person
✦ Asiresh is nauseated while he remains in the smog (DC20 Fort to resist for 1d3 rounds)


✦ Spited: 50 (Exiled Son)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (1)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (2)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (3)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (4)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (5)

✦ Wounds: Asiresh
⭍ Land speed reduced to 10 ft - Cannot run (Broken Leg | Heal DC 20)
⭍ Strenuous actions deal 1 point of damage (Broken Bones | Heal DC 15)
⭍ Strenuous actions have a 10% chance of causing bleed 1d4 rounds (Lacerations | Heal 10 hp or Heal DC 15)

[iValkyrieX]

Asiresh

Watching as the wispy form changes into his past self he smirks. But something still bugs him about this form. The fact that Asiresh has never seen Nelrin without the hood. He has never seen his face other than that of when he was reborn. That Nelrin took the form of something even he didn't know lay within, a man named Nalandis. Blood dripping from broken antlers, long white flowing hair. This was not the Nelrin he knew but the something, the someone that had become the Nelrin he knew.

"Ah yes a ring for the pact. I do wish this scene was a bit easier on the eyes for this type of thing but then again, I am making a deal with a devil. What better place to do so than in a cell where I have been rotting for what feels like years. Shall we then...Old friend.

With that, Asiresh quickly snatches the ring in his mouth and just watches and winks. As he does so he is attempting to pick the lock on the shackles that keep him bound.

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Roll to pick the lock.
(1d20-1)[18] Disable Device

[rs2excelsior]

Arina shook her head. Things had gotten more and more out of hand since... whatever happened back at the shaman's house. Something like what had done this to Stella was on its way here... and they had to solve the disappearances before it got here? In twenty minutes? Madness. This entire thing was spiraling out of control...

She held a hand up to her face. The pressure in her skull was becoming unbearable. She felt her control beginning to slip. Slowly, she focused herself, separating her own thoughts from the swirling mass of emotion around her, quieting her fears and apprehensions. What they needed now was focus.

"It sounds like we need to leave now," she said to Felik's question. She touched her brooch to quiet the voices... then paused. Instead, she closed her eyes once more, let them well up inside her mind, and listened. Perhaps--just perhaps--she might pick up a snippet of information that could help them along. The others cannot see what she is doing, but can tell something is happening. A cold wind passes through the room, and it almost seems as if shadowy forms are moving just at the edge of their vision, either darting toward or away from Arina.

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Spending a standard action to use Spirit Allies to gain the Witness the City divination talent, then spending a Spell Point and another standard action to divine.

Spoiler: Witness the City

Show

You may spend a spell point to see, hear, smell, feel, and even taste a torrent of past scenes and pieces of conversations related to anything in a settlement you are currently in. At the end of each of your turns for the duration of this divination, make a single Diplomacy check to gather information as though you had spent 1d4 hours talking to local people, without having to use an action to do so. Multiple Diplomacy checks made to gather information on the same topic always grants the same information as the first check. You can use your Perception bonus in place of your Diplomacy bonus if you so wish. However, you can only make a number of such checks equal to 1/2 your caster level (minimum 1) each time you use this talent.

So that is two spell points total spent, and two rounds concentrating to get two perception rolls (substituting for diplomacy) to gather information, as if I had spent the time canvassing the area. I am attempting to find out any clues as to the source of the disappearances, someone we could talk to who might know something, or a place we could investigate.

Rolls:
(1d20+11)[17]
(1d20+11)[29]

[Mornings]

22th of Rova, Sunday - Time: 7:45 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Autumn)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
Town of Sandpoint; Town Square

---

Main Quest: Seven Days of Night
Memories of the present were still blurred by those of the past, muddling everything together. Yet, they had not forgotten their time in that other reality... It had perhaps been a lifetime ago, for they had lived each day of both the present and that place they once knew. It was as if they had woken up from the longest dream, and now it was difficult to tell which was real. Whenever the truth fell into question, the needed only look at the grim card still clutched in Stella's grasp. Only the words from the Primeval Dark remain to guide you towards answers, but you can't help feeling as if you're simply grasping at straws.
Difficulty: Lethal | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: 19 minutes
Objective:Rumors have reached your ears of the so called 'Weeping Witch' haunting Sandpoint's streets, and strange creatures have begun appearing around the Sandpoint Hinterlands. This information was bought from Riddleport's Harriers, but the job was undertaken by the veteran hunter Kynd. Whatever the truth is, you must find it before that Offworlder does.

---

Aden rushed through the door out into the blinding light of the morning sun, the man named 'Thorne' spoke out after him as he left; "Weeping Witch. Weeping. Not the other one." Though quickly moving, he managed to reach Rello before she vanished off into the crowd. His words reached her, giving her pause. The young crimelord turned about with a somewhat contemplative expression, some of the locals in the street moved away as they heard the scarred man's words. "Other than Mr. Plebiltin, you mean. Quite a few people disappear, but the only one in recent history unaccounted for is a young woman by the name of Shayliss Vinder. She's the daughter of Ven Vinder, the general store owner, and quite the little strumpet I hear. Her vanishing is likely unrelated to anything you're interested in, there haven't been any disappearances thought to be related with witches in some time." There was large movement in the crowd and the sound of clanking metal not far off. A young girl walked by the crimelord, passing her a pack of three bundled quivers without so much as pausing to blink; vanishing off into the throng of people as swiftly as she came. "If you need a place to start..." She flipped gold coin into his hand. "Try the Rusty Dragon. Lots off strange sorts and people that know things they shouldn't." An armored formation of some two dozen men barreled through the crowd and put the man aside. The men were foreign, likely not even from the same place. Most of the men were dark skinned, but of varying shades, suggesting origins as far as Osirion or perhaps even Sargava. Their plated armor didn't match, and some were even painted with strange symbols of some flavor of Mwangi influence. Most carried large barreled firearms far too massive to be called a musket, accompanied by heavy pavises which looked like they were fitted to be fired off of. "I've business elsewhere. Take care, Mr. McNeil. I expect great things from you." The woman turned away with a foreboding smile. The formation quickly falling into place behind as she made her way towards the town's entrance. As they went, more armed men begun to fall in line with the formation. The movement had not been missed by the less intoxicated of the locals, many had begun to filter away from the town square and back into their homes.

---

The Cursed Potential Advancement: Out of Control
Some men valued one thing above all others. They fought for it, died for it, but not all men were equal. He knew it the moment the witch let slip the intentions of the spirit named Kynd. The look on Rello's face wasn't the expression of any sane person; she was a mad dog, a bloodthirsty beast. Kynd had done her a grievance, and now that she'd tasted blood she intended to destroy anything - or anyone which stood in her way. He was against the clock, standing between a murderous spirit and a woman caught in her own death frenzy. He only knew one thing, whatever was behind that smile didn't mean well for anyone. She was out of control.
Difficulty: Moderate | Status: On-going | Time: None
Prerequisite: Quest: Seven Days of Night
Reward: Potential Advancement.
Influence: Survival, Truth, Misfortune, Tactics
Objective: Survive. Or complete objective in 20min
Progress: (1/20)

---

Sister Abygael nodded, moving off to the side of the room she pushed aside a few beds to make a larger space before retrieving a sizable black and silver travel case. Opening the thing she pulled out a large roll of coiled metal which looked almost like a thin band. With it she created a 5 ft circle with the steel, then taking out a flask filled with a thick black substance. Opening the container, she spread the goo across the interior of the circle, the overpowering aroma of a tar-like substance begun to fill the air. She didn't look up. "Strip. You must be completely nude when you are submerged." Lifting a hand over the tarred space, water begun flowing into the circle until it became a modest pool of a sort. After she was finished, she moved back towards her case grabbing a heavy oiled bag from it and tossing it at the witch. "Leave nothing. If you don't want it wet, put it in the bag, fore it goes in the water too. We won't be back..."

The man named Thorne coughed again. Shrugging at Feliks he spoke in a strained voice, "Leave. Stay. It's all the same, but if you're looking for a witch, 19 minutes now remain.... Huh, that rhymed... I've been doing this too long." The man shambled to his feet at the inquisitor's words. "I'll uh... wait outside." Arina could feel the souls around her surge as her magic fluttered into the real. Thorne slid out the door as the formless silhouettes begun to twist and dance at her magical command. To her, things begun to slow, a gray film steeping the world into a monochrome hue. Then all was still. She could hear the whispers, the memories beginning to manifest. Fragments of the past sparked and died like the cinders scattered from a dying ember. Then, something ignited, a scene played out from some time past;

---

"Uncle, uncle. Tell us the story one more time!" A familiar gruff voice spoke out. Short. A faceless shadow. "You're too fond of these fairytales... The child groaned in disappointment. Last time, lass. Then straight to bed!" There was a cheer from the children. She knew that voice. Though it was younger, less burdened. The shadows within her mind seemed to take form. Denil Demn. He didn't look so haggard, nor weathered. He was younger, and a spark she didn't recognize still glinted in his eye.

"Once upon a time. Long long ago... There was a noble man, not noble of blood, but in heart and deed. He had once been a daring and courageous hero, who had saved many lives. Yet the years had finally found him, and he was settled into the quiet of a retired life. Well, this simply would not do for wild Gri'athal - the old hero's companion, a great spirit of freezing ice and frost. Gri'athal bored of the idle days, and so the spirit snuck away in the dead of night. There he found the trickster brothers A'Aktel and Afsppa, who had entertained themselves by vexing the hero in his youth with cruel riddles and trials. Without anyone to contest them the brothers grew fat, lazy and bored. Gri'athal convinced the brothers that if they made the hero's daughter sick, then he would return and their boredom would end." The children held their breath in hushed anticipation. "What did they do next, uncle?"

The halfling waved his hand casting shadows on the wall, "They sought their brother, dear Deviast. Asking for a sickness which not even the hero could cure. Well, like his brothers Deviast was also a trickster, but he did not like how his brothers only came to him for favors and how the hero had ignored him... and so, he lied." The children gasped. "He told them of a witch who could deliver a magical sickness to the child. So the brothers hurriedly sought out the witch to curse the child. He claimed it was a simple thing to deliver and dismiss, but far too much for the hero to remedy himself. They didn't know... There was no cure." The children fidgeted on the bed, wondering just what might happen next.

"Uncle, did she die?" The halfling paused for a long moment, casting a foreboding atmosphere. "No. But the child was cursed, and as Gri'athal and the brothers had wanted, the hero rose once again. Yet, when the time came to cure the child, they realized to their dismay that they could not. A'Aktel fled in fear and shame, while his brother promised to seek a cure, but never found it. Then the final day came when the child was fated to die. The hero waited for his old nemesis, the dark and wicked herald of death who had taken so much from him in days past; Palibal. He and his wife begged the sinister creature to spare their child, but the beast refused, unless Gri'athal spoke the truth. At first they didn't understand. Then the spirit revealed what he had done. The hero was enraged and betrayed. Palibal, unbending and unwavering, offered him an impossible decision - but a decision nonetheless. One life for another. The herald of death had never compromised with any mortal, but he offered this one chance as an apology for the foolishness of his three brothers. The hero did not waiver. He offered himself." The small children nearly fell off the bed in a frenzy of disbelief.

"...And with his noble sacrifice the hero's daughter was spared. Gri'athal, bereaved of both master and purpose swore to serve the hero's wife and her descendants until he could fight no more. But she couldn't look at him, so anguished and bitter. Palibal, impressed by the man's resolve instead granted the woman a single request to ease her suffering. She spoke thus, 'nothing shall ease these tears, but I shall have of you the same piece you've relinquished me, and with it no mortal soul I find shall see you. For we shall be free of death.' Palibal had rarely spoken to living mortals and had never seen such darkness, and for his carelessness he paid greatly. From the sky, she plucked the light from the stars, stealing the wife of the herald; Trilibebel. Betrayed by his own kindness, Palibal was banished away knowing the same tears as the woman. With the power she stole she fulfilled her oath to the beast of death, and let no mortal she met die. With every life she saved, she cursed Palibal, but the sadness would never end. Even now, each night she rises to heal the broken and sickly, crying still... and so she is called..." The children cheered, "The Weeping Witch!"

Ͽ ◯ Ͼ

Scenes flashed before her mind, something not so old. A mid-aged man spoke out through the echoing mists of her magic, "I'm sick... I'm sick, I must be... I must be! Gods, these visions won't stop, they won't stop. I don't know anymore! They said the Weeping Witch is real, she can cure me right!? Just like the stories!" Denil's heavy hand caught the man across the face, "Enough with these fairytales, you're not a child anymore!" The man tried to keep his composure and failed, horribly. He wiped the tears from his face, "I still believe your stories, uncle. Even if you don't. Ameiko said a witch went into the Rusty Dragon, ya'know. A real one." The old halfling hugged the wild haired man, patting him on the back as the disheveled man burst into tears. "I don't want to feel this way anymore, uncle. I don't want to see it anymore... Why do I know what it's like to die. I don't want this... I don't want this." The Denil in this vision wasn't the young image she had seen, but the hardened man she knew. Whatever this was, it wasn't from very long ago.

---

Stella remembered some things, but these doors were something altogether strange. There had been doors of sorts in the past, rather for physical travel, or in the case of the occult concepts they were taught - there was one door. A single door, the door to end all doors; The Dark Door. That was the pinnacle of their magic, drawing energy through that space. At least, for some. There was supposed to be energy even greater than that, but she couldn't be sure just what exactly it was. These doors were not that, they were something else entirely. She was almost certain that whatever they were, they were likely a newer addition to the cosmic forces that be. (Stella | Knowledge Abstract - Partial)

Fortunately, Stella remembered a few pieces about Murrpau spirits. Those facts seemed to be helpful right now. From what she recalled Murrpau were one of the few spirits who tended to possess a physical host. Unlike other spirits, Murrpau tended to be inherently wild, tricky and malicious to a degree. They possessed a physical host for the explicit purpose of mating with another mortal creature, the child which was born was not a normal babe. The infant soul served as nutrients for a young Murrpau to be born, fully possessing the infant child during childbirth, and creating another possessed mortal in the process. While considered one of the weakest spirits, there were many types of Murrpau, and not all were equal. Some were inhumanly strong, or fast. Some commanded magic which could mentally manipulate others or worse, but regardless of the type of spirit one thing remained true. While possessing a physical form, their powers were weakest. When separated from a physical host the Murrpau would command every power at their disposal. Capturing the host alive was the ideal solution, but no easy task. Most of the creatures could become feral or enter a violent rage when their backs were to the wall making them exceedingly troublesome to deal with. The majority seemed less resistant to magic intended to subdue targets, though the majority of Murrpau which had been successfully captured have been deceived or tamed by a potential mate. Unlike other spirits, Murrpau possessing a host primarily sought a partner to spend their mortal lives with. Once found they remained loyal till their host perished, spending most of their time raising their children and tending to their own family. Murrpau usually kept their own kin in line, as each belonged to a clan of extended family, but at times individual spirits could go rogue. Commanding such spirits was near impossible, as more often than not an entire clan would need to be won over, rather than an individual spirit. Those spirits which lived alone, were usually far too crazed or wild to listen to the plight of any mortal who beckoned them. (Stella | Knowledge Abstract - Success)

Spoiler: Rewards | EXP

Show

Stella HP: 1/17
✦ Spited (Returner)
⭍ Spite increases by 1 (Knowledge: Forbidden)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increase due to Knowledge (Forbidden)
⭍ Stella's move speed is reduced by 10
⭍ Stella takes [roll0] points of constitution damage
⭍ Stella takes [roll1] points of wisdom damage
⭍ Stella's HP reduced to 0
⭍ Stella's checks other than Forbidden have failed due to Spite
⭍ Knowledge (Local) has been Spited and may not be used until Spite is reduced to 0
(Some effects of Spite remain active until the current value is lessened or removed completely)

֍ Stella XP +250

֍ Aden XP +150

֍ Arina XP +300
⯎ Divination Influence Gained

֍ Feliks XP +100

[Triskavanski]

Feliks follows after Aden at that, after grabbing his share of the money from the table. Less than twenty minutes to find the witch? Impossible, he thought. Why were they even trying to find this other witch in the first place. Every single moment he was with these people more questions than answers were created. He didn't even know if there was any questions that had been truly answered.

"If we're going to do this it needs to be done quickly." he says moving down the streets towards the tavern.

[forg99rules]

She watched as Sister Abygael cleared a space in the room and begun making a pool of water. She was unsure exactly what the woman was doing was doing but whatever it was did not smell that great, she briefly wondered what it would be used for. Was she going to bath in it or was the Sister creating some sort of portal to take her somewhere else, such a thing it possible and would keep her out of danger hopefully while she was healed. If Kynd was coming to this city then it was safer to not be here at the moment so not to risk running into her and being killed. At the order to begin stripping out of her clothes she looked over at the men in the room waiting for them to leave, watching Feliks finally head out she swept her feet off the side of the bed. Slowly lowering her feet to the ground she stood up a bit unsteadily as a wave of nausea came and went. Slowly she took her quiver off her back placing it within the bag that the woman had provided, while she didn't feel that getting it wet would hurt it she still did not want to risk letting whatever was in the water get on her quiver. Removing her clothes was a bit painful as the wound was still very much sore, every movement cause her pain but she pushed through it. As her clothing came off she stuffed the items into the magic wound between her breasts, she couldn't remember where she had gotten the wound but she did know that it contained a nondimensional space that could fit her items. Briefly looking down at her hand she slowly removed the ring that she wore, she wished that it could be worn but if Sister Abygael wanted her completely nude then she would take off everything and be as such. Having completely stripped naked she made sure that the oiled bag was sealed nice and tight before looking back over at Sister Abygael. A Shiver went through her body, the nervousness of being naked in-front of others caused a blush to come to her face. Looking over at Sister Abygael, "Well... I'm naked now... ummm... you mentioned that we wouldn't be returning here, where would we going then and how would I be getting back to the city to collect my wagons? Oh and before I forget." She pointed to the wound between her breasts, "This wound need to remain as it contains a nondimensional space that allows me to hold items within it similar to a bag of holding, its where most my things are kept. I hope that doesn't conflict with whatever you are doing to fix me." The blush on her face increased in color as she realized that she had drawn attention to her breasts, she knew that the Sister most likely didn't care but it still embarrassed her a little bit.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Know Arcana: (1d20+13)[29] for the circle of water that Abygael made.
Know Abstract: (1d20+21)[38] or (1d20+21)[34] For the same reason as im not sure what is being used to make it and it doesnt hurt to check with this lol

[Mornings]

---

Main Quest: Goodnight World
They had crushed your very existence. Scattered your soul across the realms and existence and cast you down into the filth of the mortal's world. Yet still you remained, still you struggled. Still you lived. A few hundred million years had found you in perhaps the worst state you had ever been, feeble and old. Even the body which you found yourself inhabiting could not be called the original. You've suffered chilling nights and blistering mornings, tortured and mangled, waiting for this chance. The devil which once haunted you many lifetimes ago had vanished, never to be seen again it seemed since you came to this world. It had been the first time in a long time you had ever been truly alone. Now it was time to destroy those who plotted against you, reclaim your birthright, and set the Cycle right. You were coming home.
Difficulty: Moderate | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: None
Progress: (0/2)
Primary Objective: Escape
Alternate Objective: Find your brother, Sino'fel

---

Asiresh felt the contact of the cold band of energy upon the crown of his head. The mystical device twisted and took hold around his neck marking his flesh with an infernal black brand. A familiar surge raced through him, connecting the devil and he. The ghastly specter shuddered, staggering and gripping its head as the ritual drew to its conclusion. "...Heh... Hehehe... Hahahahaha!" The devil burst into a mad laughter as their memories merged once again. "I see... So that's how it is. We were so close. It's a pity you're an idiot, but at least we had the chance to spit in that woman's face at least once before we died." He snarled at the old man, "...But you should have bide your time. You should have waited. You should have listened. We had the damn books. We had them, and the Renor! ...But I suppose it's no matter. If nothing else, you are peerless in luck." The horned spirit swept an arm as he turned away, walking out of the cell and beginning to pace the hall. "We've come upon a rare chance. An unprepared and unsuspecting world, and you retain a fraction of those pieces which I am missing. Can you feel it? My connection to Quortek V'dre has been restored. I can feel, what they feel. The chaos. The confusion. Something draws their eyes away from us. A war of another sort."

The withered elf could feel something distant and strange, like a static in the back of his mind. It was unfamiliar and so far away he couldn't understand it. Likely it was that sensation the evil spirit spoke of, a connection which was once his, when he had been the fallen devil. Now it was too far away to even comprehend, like a language he couldn't remember how to speak. It was pointless trying to struggle to interpret those sensations while he was ensnared within this fleshy prison. His hands worked behind his back as the devil went on his own ramblings. "I can feel it now. This world has diverged, yet none stand to correct it. Our sisters plot in darkness and remain embattled with those they once named friends. One moves away from the Warren... To some place I do not know. There is a path - and many doors. Far, very far. Even further then where I had fallen. Through a darkness which should not be. Somewhere further still, something has fallen. And..." The devil stood rigid as the word slowly escaped his non-existent lips, "....Halja." The weathered elf hadn't heard that name in a long time. Longer than the age of the earth. Longer than the age of the stars. Longer still. The name of his wife, of their wife, brought back mixed emotions. Without her he would never had been capable of escaping. When companions betrayed him, she remained. When the world cursed him, she remained. When every god which could be named demanded his death, still, she remained. She guided him back through Quortek V'dre. She brought him back from the brink of doom, unto the grace of the Mother of the First and into her House. She gave him more chances then he could have dared dream, and yet in the end, he left alone. Left her to pay his price, to his enemies. Left her alone at the world's end he created. Nelrin's thoughts seemed to be running along the same path, for his head bowed low. Perhaps their deaths weren't even enough to forgive that selfishness, but it couldn't be taken back now.

"I cannot remain like this any longer. I must be stronger. We must be stronger." The beaten old man felt the tell-tale CLICK of the metal manacles around his wrists. The shackles rolled off his bruised and bloody wrists to clank on the floor. Thick grime coated the underside of the metal which had sat so firmly pressed against his skin, leaving gelatenous threads of rotting skin and decay as the device came off. "We will need souls.... Many, many souls." Of that, he had no doubt.

---

The Exiled Son Potential Advancement: The Harvest
Strength came with sacrifice. A hard lesson for some, but one you've learned long ago. Your enemies were numerous, and this time you could not hesitate to do what needed to be done to survive. If you were to have any chance at rising up from the depths of your own weakness, your own pitiable foolishness, you would need to wield strength greater than any you've possessed. This time you wouldn't make the same mistake. There was no room for fruitless mercy without gain.
Difficulty: Moderate | Status: On-going | Time: None
Reward: Potential Advancement
Influence: Time, Freedom, Ferocity, Chaos, Evil, Resolve, Destruction, Death, Repose, Darkness, Madness
Objective: Kill. Steal the Souls of 20 creature with the Soul Eater's Crucible. (Requires command - Move Action: "Pholor dosst athiyk Usstan zhal gotareshtsh")
Progress: (0/20)

---

Spoiler: Status

Show

Asiresh HP: 7/28
⯎ Asiresh's hands are bound (Freed)
✦ Asiresh's equipment is scattered about the room, not on his person
✦ Asiresh is nauseated while he remains in the smog (DC20 Fort to resist for 1d3 rounds)


✦ Spited: 50 (Exiled Son)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (1)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (2)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (3)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (4)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (5)

✦ Wounds: Asiresh
⭍ Land speed reduced to 10 ft - Cannot run (Broken Leg | Heal DC 20)
⭍ Strenuous actions deal 1 point of damage (Broken Bones | Heal DC 15)
⭍ Strenuous actions have a 10% chance of causing bleed 1d4 rounds (Lacerations | Heal 10 hp or Heal DC 15)

[iValkyrieX]

Asiresh

Feeling the connection made once again with his old pal Nelrin, Asiresh could do nothing other than snicker to himself.

"You and I both know that I didn't have the power to stand up to Valpurga that night. He cut us down while I held the books and the Renor. Nobody gave me a handbook on what they were. Nobody told me they would send everything in the universe into a spiral. What the hell were they even doing just laying about in that dusty old cupboard anyway if they were so damn powerful?! But the books are 'safe' in Cathedral Ruin and the Renor actually made it into the hands of Tanselri, after our untimely downfall however. Either way Talri is still set on destroying us and I have no idea how or why I am on this world again. That also leads me into...how or why are you back and how did you find me? Either way we must get out of here. I'll start tending my wounds. While you were little old P'yii did you happen to notice how many enemies are out there? We need to know what we are up against if we are alone in here."

During the internal conversation Asiresh attempts to cure some of his wounds in order to not cause more damage to himself. While doing so he makes a short prayer to Ketephys and the gods of the hunt, Sif and Ser. He does so clutching his hands together to embrace his holy symbol.

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Casting CLW on self
(1d8+1)[9]

And a heal check to attempt to set the broken bone during the healing
(1d20+8)[13]

[THEChanger]

"I expect great things from you."

Aden caught the coin as it spun through the air towards him. In her gaze, Aden could see that dangerous, reckless fire, driving her onward. Affri Rello was an intelligent, complex, and most importantly competent woman. She knew her way around power, she knew when to hold her cards and when to play them, she knew when to be gracious and when to be terrifying. She also, inevitably, will get herself killed. Not in this conflict, not today, but Aden knew that look. That was the real Affri Rello, the murderess for whom no amount of bloodshed and violence would ever be enough. In this moment, it wasn't her Affri reminded Aden of, but himself, in those moments when the pain and suffering overtook him, and his mind became subsumed by the rage.

Then again, if the target of Affri's rage was this Mardu spirit or what have you, maybe she would die today.

No. They had to get there first. To get answers, and now to save Affri Rello, of all people. Why Aden felt this desire so strongly he could not say. But he did desire it, to see Affri Rello live a long and prosperous life. After all, even though she was completely untrustworthy, despicable, and a danger to everyone around her, she was also the one person Aden had met since everything went sideways that had been unambiguously helpful. She was, despite her mystery and unpredictability, a factor Aden could understand, and plan for. Still scared the living daylights out of him, but many things and people did. It wasn't a deal breaker.

Shaking his head, clutching the coin tight, Aden moved to keep pace with Feliks, mentally filing away the information about the Vinder girl in the back of his mind. Perhaps if things went something resembling well, and they had some time to breath, he would check up on her, try and find out where she'd disappeared to. "Weeping Witch, Whispering Witch, it's not a huge difference. I know about as much about one as the other. But please, Thorne, I would love to hear what you know about the two. Perhaps you can enlighten us as we make our way to the Rusty Dragon."

He turns over his shoulder, trying to make eye contact with Arina. "Hey! Arina! Are you coming or what? We've not much time."

[rs2excelsior]

Arina snaps out of the vision, disoriented. That had been... unexpected. She hadn't planned to see someone she knew, and she definitely hadn't expected the spirits to bring her an image from so far in the past. She gave a small smile to Stella and a respectful nod to the Inquisitor before rushing out to where Aden was calling to her.

"The Rusty Dragon," she said without preamble as she rushed out of the building. "I got a vision. It was... It was Denil and his... nephew? Said they saw a witch go into the Rusty Dragon. He was sick, said something about the witch curing him... Seems like as good a lead as any." She chose not to mention the older vision she had received just yet. If it came up she would, but for now it seemed less pressing. She glanced around the busy street. "I don't suppose any of you know where that is?" The name wouldn't do them much good if they couldn't find the place.

[Mornings]

---

Main Quest: Goodnight World
They had crushed your very existence. Scattered your soul across the realms and existence and cast you down into the filth of the mortal's world. Yet still you remained, still you struggled. Still you lived. A few hundred million years had found you in perhaps the worst state you had ever been, feeble and old. Even the body which you found yourself inhabiting could not be called the original. You've suffered chilling nights and blistering mornings, tortured and mangled, waiting for this chance. The devil which once haunted you many lifetimes ago had vanished, never to be seen again it seemed since you came to this world. It had been the first time in a long time you had ever been truly alone. Now it was time to destroy those who plotted against you, reclaim your birthright, and set the Cycle right. You were coming home.
Difficulty: Moderate | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: None
Progress: (0/2)
Primary Objective: Escape
Alternate Objective: Find your brother, Sino'fel

---

"I see... Then that is fortunate. Though who's to say that the same Renor are not once again where they were found once before." The devil mused. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, "I didn't find you, the one who released me was a wretch... as was the next, and the one who followed. I simply followed a trail of suffering until I found a hint of the most sorry, cursed and misfortunate creature I have sensed to date - which brings us to the present. As far as why you are ugly, and I am a ghost, well... Likely we were slain once again, or rather, the realm which we were on met such a fate. Not surprising I suppose... it was disintegrating by itself, even without the mad creatures trying to kill us all the while. Much like dropping a curtain abruptly, or turning off the lights, it ended without ever even knowing how or why. I suspect we could find the answer from the Keeper of Cathedral Ruin, should we ever happen upon that place again, but I have no answers. The only certainty is that you are neither yourself, or me, just as I am neither myself or you. We are not 'as we were', we are now changed, and very much different. I suspect the fragments of your soul which you retain are to credit for that.... somehow. Even at my best, the heights we reached were far beyond the scope of a Child of the Houses - perhaps even, beyond the realm of the Mothers. I cannot explain what lay beyond in those places. It is a state of existence which neither you nor I was ever created nor envisioned to achieve. We meddled with powers which we did not understand, and so we were likewise completely and utterly destroyed by powers - which we did not understand. Every fragment of knowledge which we wrestled from that existence was an achievement which defied our own purpose. Sino knew that. Valpurga did as well, but Sino never pushed further than he could reach. He escaped, but took his time learning reasonably. We soared higher, faster, but also died in the process. Without the Istovet Nacta, there will be no second chances. This time we need to take more care in how we proceed." The ghastly menace paused at his own word, as if he had noticed something. "...Though, that beckons the question if I'll perish with you should you do something obscenely... stupid. Hm, at least at the moment I'd say it's... unlikely."

With grit and effort the old elf was able to muster up a bead of golden magical light, letting it fill him. He could feel his flesh knit and the fractures splintering his bones mending. It was taxing work and he knew that he would be in a difficult position once he left the chamber. The door was closed, and the smog was minimal, but once it descended upon him he wouldn't be able to focus enough to call forth his spells. Some of the men who worked in the filth hole wore masks, he felt like that would be a tool he would absolutely require were he to attempt an escape from this hell. "As far as the others... There were about six men, and one large lumbering fool. Then perhaps another six children. Most looked too sickly or pathetic to be of any use. But that is no matter, all together that's a fair number of souls to feast upon. Those which are of no circumstance are simply fodder and should be dealt the scythe." The devil chuckled menacingly seeming to enjoy the thought of murdering every man, woman and child which had nothing to offer, save for their life.

Spoiler: Status

Show

Asiresh HP: 18/28
⯎ Asiresh's hands are bound (Freed)
✦ Asiresh's equipment is scattered about the room, not on his person
✦ Asiresh is nauseated while he remains in the smog (DC20 Fort to resist for 1d3 rounds)
[Nauseated condition not yet applied]: Creatures with the nauseated condition experience stomach distress. Nauseated creatures are unable to attack, cast spells, concentrate on spells, or do anything else requiring attention. The only action such a character can take is a single move action per turn.


✦ Spited: 50 (Exiled Son)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (1)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (2)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (3)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (4)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increased (5)

[COLOR="#FF0000"]✦ Wounds: Asiresh
⭍ Land speed reduced to 10 ft - Cannot run (Broken Leg | Heal DC 20)
⯎ Strenuous actions deal 1 point of damage (Healed)
⯎ Strenuous actions have a 10% chance of causing bleed 1d4 rounds (Healed)

[iValkyrieX]

Asiresh

Wincing as he tries to set the bone but to no avail. His magic sure did allow him to feel more like himself but there is still plenty to do before he can move on.

"Well, I've been back to the manor but that's actually what brought me to this unfortunate position. I had went there originally to find Luka but she had been taken. I followed the trail and soon wound up in here. I haven't seen the light in what feels like years so I can only presume the worst has come to Luka. But once we get out of here we should head back to the manor and see what they have there. I still cant move my leg so I'm going to be a minute while I fix this."

Asiresh tries to fix his broken leg again.

"There is some upside to that whole thing though. Tanselri doesn't exactly hate us and If I recall, she would be willing to help us. Our....Your mother definitely wants us dead. I presume the Black Veil to be neutral to us since we never really had any interaction or did anything to tick her off. Then that leaves The Blessed Mother. I would imagine she sort of likes us since she allowed us to be reborn into our more 'beastly' form. So if anything we can try to get in touch with her to try to smooth things over and make us whole once more."

Spoiler: Action

Show

Heal check for broken leg again.
(1d20+8)[18]

[Mornings]

22th of Rova, Sunday - Time: 7:45 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Autumn)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
Town of Sandpoint; Town Square

---

Main Quest: Seven Days of Night
Memories of the present were still blurred by those of the past, muddling everything together. Yet, they had not forgotten their time in that other reality... It had perhaps been a lifetime ago, for they had lived each day of both the present and that place they once knew. It was as if they had woken up from the longest dream, and now it was difficult to tell which was real. Whenever the truth fell into question, the needed only look at the grim card still clutched in Stella's grasp. Only the words from the Primeval Dark remain to guide you towards answers, but you can't help feeling as if you're simply grasping at straws.
Difficulty: Lethal | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: 14 minutes
Objective:Rumors have reached your ears of the so called 'Weeping Witch' haunting Sandpoint's streets, and strange creatures have begun appearing around the Sandpoint Hinterlands. This information was bought from Riddleport's Harriers, but the job was undertaken by the veteran hunter Kynd. Whatever the truth is, you must find it before that Offworlder does.

---

Ͽ ◯ Ͼ

---

The Cursed Potential Advancement: Out of Control
Some men valued one thing above all others. They fought for it, died for it, but not all men were equal. He knew it the moment the witch let slip the intentions of the spirit named Kynd. The look on Rello's face wasn't the expression of any sane person; she was a mad dog, a bloodthirsty beast. Kynd had done her a grievance, and now that she'd tasted blood she intended to destroy anything - or anyone which stood in her way. He was against the clock, standing between a murderous spirit and a woman caught in her own death frenzy. He only knew one thing, whatever was behind that smile didn't mean well for anyone. She was out of control.
Difficulty: Moderate | Status: On-going | Time: None
Prerequisite: Quest: Seven Days of Night
Reward: Potential Advancement.
Influence: Survival, Truth, Misfortune, Tactics
Objective: Survive. Or complete objective in 20min
Progress: (6/20)

---

Thorne shrugged as they rallied outside and pointed their heading, they begun hastily making their way down the street and navigating the crowd. "The Whispering Witch was some bit of nonsense left over from the days of Efal's terrible reign. She and her coven were always rambling about so big-bad-witch. Supposedly she controlled unimaginable power and command of all darkness, in a literal sense. Not the 'dim the lights' kinda magic, or teleporting through the shade like some odd-ball shadowdancer, but literal unadulterated mastery of all dark across the material realm. Sounds absolutely mad, I know... Take a left." The took a short cut down an ally and back onto another large street, continuing on as the man coughed up more blood. "...That's not witchcraft, or magic. That's the power of a god. After all, what stops a person like that from just blinking and snuffing out stars and planets? It was just some obscure mad ravings from a murderer, but after the Long Night, everything changed. Efal's coven surged in numbers, and while the Purifiers tried to keep the heretical beliefs of the cult in check, the Whispering Witch became a name everyone knew. People made up their own explanations. Efal's holy books are extremely difficult to acquire these days, most were burned by the Purifiers, but a few copies are out there. People will pay an arm and a leg to get their hands on one of those. There was never a publication, so all the copies left are hand written in no particular style. I'd keep my eye open for any odd looking books if you fancy a quick fortune." The cobbled streets became more worn and the path begun to take on a soft incline as they went. They had cut around the square making their way towards the other side of the town at a quick pace. They had begun their approach towards the southern bridge bridge leading out of town, but further ahead they could see a large wooden building. A massive iron dragon stood bolted intimidatingly to the roof to loom down over the entrance, the parameter was uncharacteristically crowded. "That's it.... As far as the Weeping Witch, well that came first. It's an old Varisian fairytale. To those that know it, the whole Whispering Witch bit seemed sorta like a play on words, alluding to that story. In short, the witch was the wife of a hero. Her husband dies to remove a magical sickness from her child. She in turn curses death, vowing to stop the death of men by using the powers she steals while deceiving him. There's different versions of the story... In any case, the Weeping Witch is a goodly witch in the stories, she saves many people. I can't really say if she was actually real or not, maybe she was once. Some scholars say it's likely, perhaps around some time before the rise of Thassilon. At the very least, the sickness is real... but I guess that's a story for another time."

They approached the front of the old tavern, a large 'Help Wanted' sign hung from old rickety steel links bolted to the building's entrance. The familiar face of the sheriff's assistant, Emithy, stood in the middle of the chaos. Militiamen milled about, while some lay off to the side on bedrolls. There was blood on their sheets, but no evident wounds upon their person. Even their clothes were evidently stained, yet there was no signs of just what had felled them on their outward appearance. "Oh no, and here comes trouble..." A man beside him turned about to look at the approaching company, "The Dragon's closed, sorry for the trouble. I'm going to need you to clear the area until things have settled here."

---

Stella Astral Has Left The Party

---

Spoiler: Rewards | EXP

Show

֍ Aden XP +150

֍ Arina XP +100

֍ Feliks XP +100