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  #81  
Old 02-14-2009
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Kaeldorn Kaeldorn is offline
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After a thorough discussion, it was decided upon that Peridan would work to uncover and handle the Black Hand followers walking deceptively among the fair people of Sundren, while Yashia was asked to seek proof for connections between the dark presences within the valley. To that end, and to answer to the soldiers' request from before, she wrote her report with inclusion of the relevant ties to what had come up.

Greetings Honored Defenders of Sundren,

As requested, I hereby declare what I know of the events that took place recently at the Exigo Trading Post, where two people were brutally brought to death. I must clarify beforehand that I was not present myself when it happened, but from detailed explanations of trustworthy first-hand witnesses as well as my own personal knowledge of the possible causes of their deaths I still do believe that I can offer some worthwhile information.

Ilmatari Favored Cybil had for some time been carrying with her a token of power that is often held by the followers of Bane, thought with quite some certainty to be used to access the hidden citadel of the Black Hand through means of teleportation. I am unsure how and when she obtained it, but she was planning to have research done on how the coin worked so that it could potentially be used by the Triumvirate and its allies to hold a key to their domain should it become required at some point. Unfortunately, such objects are known to be unstable in the hands of those who hold no loyalty for the Tyrant lord. And it appears that Cybil became a victim to that instability; the piece exploded as I've seen happening once before.

As for the case of the perished monk, who goes by the name Alcander, it is said that he was attacked by undead coming forth from a magical portal. Summoned by a dark being whose name or allegiance are not entirely clear to me. However, from Cirion I have heard that he looked exactly like a figure whose origin he and I, as well as two others, were witness of. We had followed a suspicious lead to Shar's Abaddon, and there we came upon a priest and two mighty looking warriors clad with the marks of Bane.

While we watched from a safe distance, this priest performed a ritual that literally shook the ground, and slew his two champions without any resistance at all. When his ritual came to completion, he too disappeared and instead took the shape of this creature touched deeply by the forces of death and necromancy. Myrkul he praised, and he opened a portal much alike the one at Exigo from which undead swarmed upon us. Furthermore, Alcander - the victim of aforementioned event - was known as a traitor to the Black Hand at the time his life was taken. This further strengthens the possible truth in the rumors that followers of the dead god and Bane have formed some kind of pact.

With Lady Mestra of the Ill'Koresh possibly gaining renewed influence over the Necropolis and the Dark Advent in the east, several clues pointing towards Banite presence in the far northern reaches of Mossdale, as well as an anonymous, reliable source claiming to have found hints of cooperation between the Black Hand and Colibrus with his vampire clans in the Untrodden Grounds of Viridale... Such an allegiance would imply the possibility of organized attacks on many northern fronts.

Do bear in mind that much of this is still speculation, but I am in no way fearmongering, as it is speculation based on reasonable indicators. I have spoken of these matters with Private Peridan (my apologies for not knowing his last name), and he has asked for further investigation on behalf of the Legion, which I will gladly help with. Should you wish to contact me, I currently live in a room at the Sundren Comfort.

Salutations and kind regards,

Yashia Jadysvarion
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  #82  
Old 02-14-2009
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One letter sent, another received. Yashia sat in her room, alone at this time, with the s lying in front of her. A simple, non-magical message that seemed mostly directed to Hano, but not to him alone. Instead, to several people someone thought that mattered. Which had to be the reason for one having arrived here too. It had been closed and untouched when Betty handed it over to the rightful recipient. Now it was folded out neatly on top of her desk, being stared at even though she'd likely read it half a dozen times already. She knew exactly whose hands had held the pen from which the message came. Alyrian, who had recently been marked as a target for a crusade by Triumvirate paladin Hano. This was related to him, yet she couldn't be quite sure who had truly written it.


... I know this is what you wanted all along, old friend. I do not blame you for it ... the yearning to prove your power is one I understand all too well. Against the many true enemies of this land, it is difficult, almost impossible even, to be able to measure any blow you deal them as great.

I am an easy target, because of what I am, because of what I can do, because of what I have done. It's easy to declare me an enemy, vanquish me, and hold my head up high as a trophy. Then, you can shout to the skies and your gods, that your power means something. That your actions have saved the valley and all its people.

But after all that, what will you be left with? One less soul willing to fight alongside you. One less friend to defend you. One less sword for which you can strike against the true darkness with. I can not blame you for it, but, allow me this one concession: to remark how tragic our lives truly are. That you, sworn defender of this land I call home, can not use my power to defend it - and that I, your willing sword, lack the ability to convince you otherwise.

Tamryn no doubt shares your opinion of me. Please ... if you should have slain me before I can see her, please let her know that I am ... truly sorry for ... everything.


Her thumb stoked the bottom of her chin while she pensively kept her eyes intently reading into the letters. Had it come from Alyrian himself, or was it the new devil that had taken a hold of him?

"Enough," she said to herself.

The hand underneath her head left its place and instead was brought to lay flat on top of the sheet of paper, and in only a matter of seconds it was crumbled up in her clenched fist. She rose from her chair, walking over to the fireplace. For a moment she paused, but then she cast the deformed paper ball into the flames.

"If the cube had become too much for you, drained you from within, then you should have come and sought for help, Alyrian. Not from a new source of Fel energy, but from the people who had given you sanctuary and your freedom back to begin with. Now you try to win our favor by attempting to attack our conscience without even daring to come to us and show your face. Your true face. The work of fiends, devils, and I will not have it. You're on your own unless you prove that you can and will stand up against the influence you have brought upon yourself. If you can't, won't, and if you surrender to it without trying when everyone's blades are turned against you... then you are nothing but a weak-willed fool. I feel sorry for you, pity you Alyrian. But you have betrayed us. All of us. And I will not stand by your side like I did a few years ago. Not this time."

"And if you fight your battles against the wrong side..."

She plopped down on the couch, watching the fires shred the elaborately written speech to pieces. Her head was lowered, and her eyes were closed.

"... Then I too will be there."
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  #83  
Old 03-23-2009
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The betrayal and the intelligence gained through it slowly began to have its impact on the Black Hand's advance. The Legion successfully made efforts to catch a number of suspects, and despite the cruelty that was done upon Alcander as an example, more sought atonement. In a rash attempt to show just how ironed a fist theirs was, the Banites resorted to outright attacking civilians. Needless to say, a great many people including Yashia and just about all in her circle of aqcuaintances wouldn't have these cowardly blows. And thus it would not take long before the Black Hand's reckless rise was harshly put down. The immediate threat of the suspected dark alliance dwindled as well.

With them for now out of the picture, focus was aimed towards the foreign snake-kin that had slowly begun to settle. Yet what their purposes were, why the enmity between naga and yuan-ti existed and which side was in the right was still anyone's guess. There were reports that Sestra suffered from an increasing, unnatural heat for a place this far up north. And that the air had become much more humid than it usually was. These phenomena would all be explained. Though not yet. At a later time...
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  #84  
Old 03-23-2009
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One day, Yashia received a message transmitted through thought from Cirion. He requested her to come see him as soon as she could. In and of itself that wasn't all that uncommon, but this time there was a fear in his 'voice' she couldn't quite place. And it made her nervous, with an upwelling worry within. When she came to meet him in room three at the Sundren Comfort, the truth proved her worries not to be misplaced.

Cirion, Peridan, and several others had gone after a lead of some children gone missing. They came upon a ruined builing. Abandoned for long, but now populated with two sickly old-looking figures that held a fear-filled child as their shield against justice. The couple spoke of their affliction given by the Velsharoon bowers of the Dark Advent, how the taint driving them closer and closer to undeath had made them monsters and that it could only be undone with the sacrifice of a dozen innocent young souls. None of the group had the intention of letting these folks go through with their plan, and so a fight broke out. A battle that was swift to come to an ending in the adventurers' favor. Though then again, not entirely so.

The Sunite told how he, when standing close to the fallen, had felt a cloak of shadow over his own soul. From the looks of it, the same thing happened to Peridan. They had been cursed, the taint passed on from one victim to another, and now with every hour passing they would come closer to their doom.

These more personal matters changed Yashia's priorities. They may not have been of as much significance in the greater whole of things, that did not take away her need to do all in her power for the ones suffering. There were many others who could lend themselves for more communal interests, whereas the number who'd devote themselves to saving the lives of 'just' two men were few. Her support was needed, for these two who had already made so many sacrifices to protect the people. These two, one of whom held her heart, which he may well take to his grave should something terrible come to pass.
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  #85  
Old 03-23-2009
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Cybil, another who felt the draw to aid those touched with the corprus-like disease, came to Yashia with a few propositions of what they could do. There were rumors of a member of the Advent holding the needs for a cure to the curse. Though since neither of them really wanted to make any deals with the black of heart, they decided it may be needed to force their way into the Necropolis to find possible writings of the taint or its cure themselves.

Cirion had been one step ahead of them already, for that same night he returned with a book taken from a certain dead necromancer's possession. The book was written in an odd dialect of celestial, and the texts and illustrations within were riddling. It seemed to speak of six components needed to make an 'Elixer of Life'.

The Tears of the Moon,
A Drop of the Sun,
The Heart of Earth,
A Breath of Wind,
Untainted Water,
A Kiss of Fire.

One final ingredient seemed to be needed, but the pages for it were missing. With help from the priests of Oghma and Seer Marcus from the Library of Sundren, Yashia and Cybil as well as a small number of others close with Peridan and Cirion embarked on a series of quests to obtain the parts that were required. Every step closer to their goal, the road became harder to tread. With the effects of the curse becoming more prevalent by the day, slowly consuming its victims bodies and souls. Darkening their very being.

Last edited by Kaeldorn; 04-11-2009 at 11:50 AM.
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  #86  
Old 04-13-2009
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The few involved made progress in their search. Though it went so slowly that Cirion feared it would be too little, too late. With the loss of feeling, he simultaneously began to lose faith also. And as Cirion slowly urged to break his ties and push away those who tried to help him, he dragged Yashia along in his depressive state. She refused to abandon his side, knowing full well that if none were left to look after him, he'd be much more easily inclined to do himself harm beyond any possible healing. Yashia was definitely still hopeful, and would hope for two if need be. Yet that didn't take away the pain inside, the same sort of which she'd experienced so often before already.

Cirion had nightmares. Though his explanations of them were rather brief and seemingly incomplete, he was obviously horrified by something that happened within them. One night, the darkening force by which he was taken further and further away came closer to Yashia than ever before. They were standing in Cirion's room number three of the Sundren Comfort Inn, when the floor disappeared from beneath their feet and made way for a void. An endless, black pit that sucked them inside. Her ceaseless worry and care had brought her close enough to the curse to enter one of his cruel dreams with him...

Where she appeared, she didn't know. Her surroundings were too dark for the human eye to perceive. The sound of dripping water echoed throughout the space she was in, originating almost right in front of her. "Yashia?" a familiar male voice called. That of a Cirion sounding much less tainted by the hand of death. "I'm here," she replied. Stretching out an arm in the direction where the voice came from didn't immediately yield any result, but within moments the tips of her fingers touched a soft surface that resembled the silken red garb her future husband normally wore. He stepped closer to her and held an wanted to hold an arm around her at first, and then the sound of liquid drops colliding with the floor stopped.

The light emanating from the amulet Yashia wore was enough to discern the man's outlines and gave a vague impression of his face. The man - definitely Cirion - withdrew his hand from Yashia and stroked through the hair on top of his head. He held it in front of his eyes and his fingers rubbed over one another. "... Not again." He sighed and lowered his hand to what looked like to be about leg-height to rub it off. Quickly, he got a firm yet still gentle grip of Yashia's wrist. "Follow me."

With careful steps she followed, not fully knowing where they went and without knowing for sure if following was wise. He was the one who got her into this in the first place, but on the other side of things he had been here before from the sound of it, making his judgement more dependable than her own. Then he suddenly stopped, and she did the same in his tracks. An agonized moaning came from deeper down the tunnel. Something moved with soft thuds like clumsily placed footsteps. It crept closer and closer. Cirion released her. At the same time a sword was unsheathed and the movement stopped.

What light they had was too little and only reached about an arm's length. In their situation, that was too unsafe and even advantageous to whatever could see them instead. Yashia took her backpack from its place and swiftly sought through it, behind Cirion for cover. A torch as well as some nearly used up flint and tinder were still there. She lit the lightsource and held it beside her man to allow them to see.

Before them stood a monstrous entity. Once human, now dead and transformed into a rotten image of its former self. The creature was at first repelled by the sudden bright light. It didn't take long for it to regain footing, taking on an expression of anger and roaring aggressively with an unhealthily wide open maw that only seemed to be attached still on one side. Diplomatic resolutions didn't seem to be an option, and as such Cirion's blade flashed in the torchlight to strike the being. She joined in on his struggle and the creepy form was quickly disposed of with the final swing of a small axe of Yashia's. Though instead of being left behind lifelessly on the floor, it disappeared. They couldn't even look at one another to see eachother's confusion before the torch flames died down much sooner than they should have. Yashia tried to light it again, to no avail. She tucked the torch in her packs and they went on. Sticking together to tread the unrevealed path that hopefully led back to safety. Closely pursued by an ever-growing ocean of a red fluid forming behind them that could be nothing other than blood.
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  #87  
Old 04-13-2009
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They traced their way through the darkness at a touch distance away from a wall. Yashia heard a canine's whining rather close by. Cirion must have heard it as well, because they stopped. Two small beady eyes emerged from the shadows up ahead. A reflection from her necklace. The animal moved slowly and from the irregular sound of its footsteps, she assumed it must have had a movement impairment of some sort. Very near to them, the dog tilted his head sideways slightly, inspecting them. Yashia recognised this behaviour and cautiously drew closer, away from Cirion's protection. "... Shadowbane?"

A hand was placed on her shoulder from behind. "Yashia, don't." Cirion objected.

"We need to help him." She glanced quickly to Cirion, the light from below casting a creepy shadow over his face. "He's in pain, can't you hear it?!"

"You can't. I'm sorry." he continued in pained whispering, "I remember trying, but there was nothing I could do. You have to trust me on this."

But Yashia wasn't about to let go this chance to make amends. She felt a need to do something where she had failed in the past. While the wolf looked exactly like Shadowbane, it backed off a single step and yowled at her.

"Please.. I want to help. I - I never meant to abadon you." she uttered shakily in a tormented tone as she reached out with an open palm.

The dog began to convulse. Its head twitched, and its rear limping leg snapped in every which way. The fur and skin on the dog's face folded backwards. Then more, and more. The sound resembling the maggots in autumn leaves. Cirion attempted to pull her back, and again she didn't sway. The skin continued to fold back until the beast's body was completely skinless. It whined and howled and growled, then darted off into the cavern wall - only to vanish completely.

"No!" shouted Yashia. She fell to her knees sobbing. "No! He can't be dead! He was fine! Fine when Lasala saw him!"

Cirion sheathed his blade and reached down to hold her. Cradling the confused and emotionally unstable Yashia in his arms. "That wasn't him, Yashia." He tried to comfort her. "And you are right. Lasala does have him and is taking good care of him."

"But he - he looked just like..."

"It's this place, Yashia. This godforsaken place. It shows lies. It deceives you with all manner of falsehoods to try and hurt you."

"That doesn't make any sense! Why am I even here? I'm not mentally ill, or feeling deprived!" As soon as she'd said the last part, she realized that it wasn't wholly true. How poorly things were going left a mark on her life and the way she felt every single second of the day.

Cirion gently pulled her up to her feet to hug her, and to carress her back with his hands. "Yashia... Don't break down here." His request was almost a beg.

"We need to leave here. It's - Too dark." Yashia uttered, lacking words to express herself better at this time.

"We just need to realise that this place is not real," he said.

"But if you already know it isn't, then why are you here?"
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  #88  
Old 04-13-2009
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A disrupting groan came from deeper in the cave. Again, they were no longer alone. Accompanied by the next stranger who may well be someone she carried with her in her memories. "Yash... Yashia... I know that voice..." spoke a raspy voice not too far away.

The woman addressed grabbed tightly onto Cirion and deliberately said nothing. If what he said was true, avoiding contact was the best thing she could do. The vague sense of familiarity she had with the presence nearby however did not make it any easier to resist a curiosity-driven urge to learn more.

"Yashia..." the voice went on. "I only wanted to hold you - yet... yet out of such hate... you took a weapon to me. After all the love I gave you Yashia, after the agony I suffered when you killed your mother... You... you took my life as well."

"Don't believe any of the things you see here. Don't listen to it," Cirion whispered in her ear in warning.

Her mouth fell open, and though the darkness covered her sight, some tears made their way down from her eyes. The sadness of the man approaching them turned into a slight hint of anger. The steps more heavy, yet still mechanical. "How... could you live with yourself?!"

The need to speak to her father now was greater than any argument Cirion could give. But how could she ever put to words how much she regretted the gruesome deed she committed? Then it just flapped out. "I - I didn't want to!"

"I was already destroyed when she died... but despite that, I took care of you... and you... you destroyed me further!"

"You stay away from her!" Cirion shouted in anger. "You are full of lies made to destroy her. You are a lie."

Yashia didn't hear any of his pleas to have her deny her father's truthfulness, and instead felt naught but compassion for the man in front of them. Her father. "I'm sorry! It was an impulse! And I - I couldn't see you like that. I tried, tried to live to make up for the wrongs I did. I wanted to make you proud, wherever you went after this life."

He proceeded towards them in slow and weak steps, like a crippled old man desperately trying to reach for his only love left in life before his dying breath. "I can't see you Yashia... I can't see my own daughter again. Let me just... remember. Let me remember the good times Yashia... Let me touch that pretty face..."

"That boy... Keldaron... he was responsible for all of this." His voice had a hint of anger in it, lost soon again in his next sentence. "No. I do not blame you, my sweet little angel. Do not let this one do the same thing to you, my daughter!"

"But he loved me! He loves me!" she protested.

"All he did was fill you with lies... he is responsible for you slaying me when I was only trying to embrace you for caring for me." He burst into a wail, a fit of sadness. "I can assure you, beloved Yahia... that he will kill you. I cannot see him... but I can feel... I can taste and smell th-the taint!"

"No.. No! He'd never lay a finger on me to hurt me. He's uncapable of it. He is strong, he can last through this curse until we find a cure for him."

He stepped closer, coming almost within reach of the amulet's dimmed light. "Stay here with me... do not go letting another boy fill your mind with lies and causing you to hurt those you love..."

"But father, I need to save him. Cure him. Free him from this taint, succeed where I couldn't free you..."
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  #89  
Old 04-13-2009
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His pleas denied, Harald began to loom towards Yashia in a very familiar way. The broken man's arm stretched out with his hand towards her face. Hoping against all odds to still get that one chance to touch. She wished to avoid the violence used last time and swiftly reached under her padding for the symbol of Sune hanging from her neck. The symbol felt different. Very unfamiliar but familiar in the same regard. It felt like things she sometimes saw back when she could sense the auras of the soul as a paladin... Evil. Looking down it was not the smiling face of the Lady Firehair in her hand, but the solar eclipse of Shar. She let go of the symbol, causing it to fall down. At the chain it still dangled from her neck and refused to let go.

Harald stepped back with a hiss "He has even spread to your belief! I can feel the symbol!"

"Do not believe this place, Yashia." Cirion spoke as calmly as he could, which was still rather tense. The hand that didn't hold her already touched the hilt of his blade to raise it against this unreality that felt awfully real. "Nothing here can harm you as long as you can discern what's real from what isn't. It's the only way we can leave."

"You will not take her away from me!" hissed the rotting remains of Yashia's father towards Cirion. The impending hostility made the Sunite draw steel. Out of necessity to protect himself and Yashia. Again there was not much of a fight. Cirion sliced the creature's head off and the being fell backwards on the ground - and the severed, rotting skull splintered open on the hard cave floor. The whole scene made Yashia shiver to the bone and cringe like a helpless child watching her parents get killed right in front of her eyes. Her fingertips slid across the haft of her axe. She remembered the day as it were yesterday. And the reminder was worse than a hundred sleepless nights.

With the threat now gone, the cursed knight returned his attention to the woman he tried to protect. "I... Yashia, it wasn't even him... I had no choice left but to intervene."

"My father.. he'd.. He wouldn't do this." She replied shakily. "He wouldn't want me to live on in sorrow forever after that, or claim my life like - Like I almost did."

"No, he wouldn't." Cirion said assuringly, and wrapped his arms around to give her a caring embrace. "A good father would understand and support the choices you've made. And from what you've told, I think he was a good man. Who has a lot to be proud of if you ask me."

Yashia was forced a short-endured smile that was unfortunately wasted on the darkness behind him. "Why does this place feel so real, Cirion?"

"I don't know. But please, believe me when I say you should be sceptical of the things we see here. My only purpose is to get back to safety, and I'm not going to leave without you."
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