Mornings
     
  He Hated This Familiar Feeling  
  Racing out across black skies he plummeted through dark burning clouds which drowned out all light. The acrid stench from a world on fire and countless plumes of billowing smoke hundreds of miles long filled his lungs with the bite of tar. Falling through the heavens, the smoke gave way to burning acidic storms. The condensation within the clouds had become liquid fire, viciously peeling back the psychic ‘skin’ of his body, like being submerged in a torturer's vat of acidulous slime. With each passing moment he fell, the horrors mounted.

Cutting a cloudy swathe with his body in the descent, his form hit a gout of roiling poisonous gas. The bank of dense semi-liquid hydrogen sulfide churned him through a blender of freezing blades; lashed by the hands of the storm. His throat closed and his eyes burned and bulged as his immortal luminous body seized and convulsed in freefall. Past the blackness, the burning storms and poison air, the world finally emerged. Its voice was the roar of ashen squalls and gunfire.

Far below, amid the ash-rain and poison air, the long broken freeway raced through the toppled corpses of skyscrapers. A man stood atop the remains of a massive and ancient transport cruiser, a mammoth truck nearly twenty feet in height and ninety feet long. It was flipped, melted and blasted in half by some manner of particle-weapon long ago. Now it was only a moss-covered grave marking some battle no one was left to remember.

From on high, perched atop the gutted vehicle, Fredrik racked the charging handle of the massive weapon. Like many of the Cheisha peoples conscripted into service, the weapon had a name. He called the lumbering fix-foot long dyne machine-rifle, ‘Emiliana’, because it sounded attractive and mysterious. His arms strained to bring the great gun to bear, as his companions dashed through the opening of the split truck. Even with the mechanical servo-arm keeping the weapon to bear, it was nearly a hundred pounds empty. He couldn’t see through the ash-snow but the neurological feed from his goggles revealed the forms of his enemies outlined in digital red shade. A gout of exhaled air wafted off from his respirator as he braced himself and slowly squeezed the trigger.

Calamitous ruin. World-shaking cacophony. It was only a short burst, as the weighty hextuple barrels cycled once. The pulse of the hyper-dense molten Brix ammunition was too quick to be seen. There was only a flash and clap of light as the atmosphere crashed back to fill the void of vaporized particulate matter. More red shapes. Fredrik pulled the trigger again. Another crash as the world seemed to collapse and tremble. The thick steel sheets shook and buckled beneath his feet. Even the air trembled as if twisted by the heat of a mirage, vibrating visibly to the naked eye.

Below, the senior officer of their detachment crossed the threshold, wounded by an earlier attack, though spared any serious damage thanks to his Cimmerian dampening suit. ‘Carver’, if that even was his real name, was the Accuser assigned command over this mission, and he was the only one learned in dealing with the many corruptions of this place. Below Fredrik could hear his superior yelling at him. Specialist Kædda was the most experienced rifleman of any of the Imperial Rifle companies as a conscript. Yet, he couldn’t pry himself away, his eyes were locked upon those strange shapes racing towards them. He had to see it. He had to.

Then he did. The chill numbness running up his spine didn’t stop his finger from rhythmically depressing the trigger without pause. It was too late. He could hear Kædda screaming for him to run, but they would never make it. What they had believed to be hostile natives and rebels was anything but. The shapes were roughly humanoid, glassy black stones, twisting and hurtling at them. The diagnostic service within his visual display recorded their average speed at nearly sixty miles per hour. Occasionally a twisted bloody limb or fleshy appendage would show itself dangling and grinding amid the roil of human stones. He held down the trigger. The ‘floor’ collapsed beneath him sending him falling through the old car's cabin, but he didn’t cease his assault. The decimating gunfire disintegrated the vehicle as he plummeted, until finally reaching the ground. He gunned his way through the truck, stepping out just as the belt was depleted.  

Suddenly a woman’s hand snapped out and grabbed Erik’s face. Her silver hair danced lightly upon an unnatural wind.     "Ashurbanipal isn’t welcome here, you cur. Go find your own fun!”     Violently she smashed his head against the invisible wall of reality. The thin sheet dividing the white from the black. The veil he now struggled to navigate and circumvent. He crumbled back into the familiar dark.

     Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
L’Chandal, The Crucible
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 9:41 AM  
  "Oh my, who was that?"   The woman's soft flippant voice asked, bemused.   "...That, sister, was Cas'Haphel."   The younger woman's soft complexion screwed up inquisitively,   "You mean Caus'fel? I didn't know she had taken residence within N'Tallos."   The stern voice of the faceless woman standing off to the side sharply interjected,    "Nor... Did I. Are you playing games with me, sister?"    The Witch who had identified the mysterious figure cleared her throat before adjusted the enormous brim of her hat. Her first words were addressed to her soft-spoken 'sister'.   "She doesn't use that name anymore."   She shifted uncomfortably before answering the faceless woman,   "I assure you, sister. It was no trick. Certainly we could not have know she was hiding there. Who knows what trouble she's brewed."   The older woman sighed, perhaps in frustration.

 It has been years since he had begun this life with his captors.  The roughly, eighty foot long room was all that remained of the great library that was once Ashurbanipal. Erik had not seen the old Librarian in what felt like a very long time. It felt like it had been a lifetime. He was a very different man now, and it was difficult to even recall the whole ordeal. So much had happened all at once, but now, everything was so very simple. The woman with a soft voice clutched his hand.   "I’m sorry, was that too much? If it's too much, I promise to end it quickly. You won’t suffer."   The young woman who was smiling at him, and leisurely offered him a mercy killing, was E’Dene Kathe, a ‘Justice’ of Kathe, and youngest of the three. Erik understood that the term was very much how he imagined, and she served as some manner of supreme judge - though on a planar, or perhaps even dimensional level. Despite her charm and pleasant demeanor, she was the most extreme personality in the room and had advocated for his death since they had met; as she continued still today.

  "I apologize for the unexpected development. Next time we’ll try for something less, exotic."   The knowledgeable woman with the absurdly sized wizardly hat was Se’Jaine Kathe, Justice of Kathe. Unlike E’Dene, she instead advocated for his imprisonment, rather than his death, believing that Erik could, as Passage Lord, still provide some merit to his continued existence. Though, she remained committed to the notion that he remained too dangerous to be allowed to roam free.

The faceless woman was the oldest of the three. She wore a similarly large hat to Se’Jaine, but the brim seemed to always adjust itself by its own volition to cover her face. Her name was Esk’Jola Kathe, Justice of Kathe, and she was the supreme authority between all of them. They each were donned in elaborate, but distinct robes and wore great hats fashioned like a witch. He knew now that held some significance.

Shortly after he had returned with the recovered fragment of the Key to Midnight, Esk’Jola had stormed into reality. The Justice had destroyed Ashurbanipal with a sweep of her wand and sealed them inside. It was then the other two had appeared as well. He could still make out the old man’s face as he silently screamed something from across the vacuum of dissolution. He kept replaying those final moments in his mind when the stress mounted. He wished he could understand it. He wished he could know just what he’d said. The painful ringing in his ears returned, making him clutch his head to steady himself and fight off the sensation.

He’d never thought he’d come to miss being berated by the old man. How quickly it had all come crashing down. Now it was just he, his captors, and this box. This chamber and its four walls. Yes, there was some amenities. The kitchen never seemed to deplete its stores, and the fire of the heath always burned without kindling, but where was the wind. The taste of salt carried by a stiff sea breeze. Where was the scent of flowers or the musk of the rain. His windowless world was a prison without meaningful bounds. There was no door, no windows, and no world beyond it. There was only  the white.  He could see past his prison each time he released himself from his fleshy cage. Even the tortuous torments wrought upon himself when his planar trips turned for the worse were preferable to  the cage. 

For the first few months he’d been locked away without explanation. They did not speak Taldane, or any tongue he could understand, and their sense of time was evidently skewed by their own timelessness. He was a defendant without representation within a trial he could not understand, and other than being present, went largely unnoticed; save for being magically bound to a seat. There he wasted away. Unable to eat, unable to sleep, unable to speak, unable to even relieve himself… though he suffered through all such needs and pains. His body ached, he lost feeling in his arse days ago, and he wilted. It was as if he had returned to his cell in Willowbrook, or something far worse. The mostly silent debate seemed to primarily be waged via some telepathic means, or perhaps magical ones. Though at times one would speak out spiritedly with words he did not know. Perhaps for an immortal being only spending a few months talking over a decision for his trail was remarkably quick. For him though, it was a horrid eternity in waiting. It wasn’t until the eldest firmly beat her wand-clenched fist on the table twice like a gavel with the same gesture which had set the ordeal in motion, that he knew it was finally drawing to a close. Unexpectedly, the resolution was to train him, albeit, from within his new cell.

At first he had been treated very sternly, and Justice E’Dene was evidently bitter that he had not been put to death. So much so, he hadn’t even learned her name until after the first year of his incarceration. During that first year, he had not been offered any answers. He was merely forced to comply with whatever demands were made of him, as they cast his soul across the far and nameless holes of the multiverse. Slowly, learning to control his powers. Eventually, they begun to speak to him. Not in meaningful words, but with a projection of their meaning. It was much the same way now. Whatever reality shaping spells they commanded simply created a projection which his senses could interpret and understand, though he was well aware that the truth beneath the surface was something alien and strange which he could not even begin to comprehend. At least right now, he didn’t need the truth. Reality was too far beyond him to understand. But these figments, these ‘ghosts’ and their words - that was something he could understand, and it made the world feel a little bit less strange; like he possessed some small semblance of control or understanding of his own sense of the world and those things which he perceived.

Since then, he had been made to endure endless and grueling training, all while being watched hawkishly. Thankfully, his captors at least now traded some words and might even hold a conversation. He knew so little. Who they were or why they had come. Why was this even happening to him? He had only gleaned pieces in the years since. They were of a godly race, whose name he couldn’t even begin to pronounce, but that could be simplified by merely calling that group of races a ‘Witch’. It was a being, somewhat akin to a magical beast, but one of pure unbridled energy. Timeless and ancient. They did not understand mortals, or mortal needs, for they had never been of his kind. A Justice was supreme even amongst their kin. The guilty were made so by the whims of these Judges and held no rights beyond what a Justice might deign to grant them. There was no evidence, no argument, no defense or legal recourse. The ruling of a Justice was righteous and absolute. Erik had no idea if such beings could procreate, or if ‘siblings’ held the same meaning to him as it might to them. Perhaps they were all created from the same source, and thus all related to some degree, but they did share some visual similarities.

All he knew was that he had to either earn their trust, or win his freedom, because there was no escape to be found. Se’Jaine seemed to resonate closest with what Erik might associate with more recognizable values of ‘law’ within his own, small, simple mortal values. While she seemed reasonable, and sought to keep E’Dene from putting him to death, she remained convinced that he should remain imprisoned forever. Of the three though, she appeared the most easy to convince with rational thinking and logic. Strangely, the next easiest seemed to be E’Dene herself. She remained vehement that he must be executed, but was also the most communicative. The young woman did not allow him out from under her palm, quite literally. He was fortunate if she did not have one hand on his shoulder goading him. He couldn’t sleep, bathe or even take a sheit without the woman looming over him. At first Erik wasn’t certain if the godlings simply had no sense of privacy or personal space, but he had come to learn the behavior was limited to her. Though, the Witches did not need to eat, sleep or wash, nor did they excrete waste. A simple flick of a wand and any soiled garments or dirt was purged. He couldn’t be sure just how an immortal who never slept before might view a mortal’s needs, but he was certain her behavior was abnormal. Unlike the others, she seemed to be more emotionally motivated.

The senior Justice, Esk’Jola was the one who ultimately advocated for Erik to instead be trained, rather than killed or locked away forever. However, despite her fairness. She was distant, stern, generally unfriendly and curt if she spoke at all. It was a rare thing if she entertained a question from him. The circumstances were only worsened by her expressions being impossible to read. He couldn’t even gauge a reaction with how her face was hidden behind her hat and he couldn’t even begin to understand her rationale or the decisions she reached, regardless if it was beneficial to him or not. He was certain she would become the largest hurdle to cross if he was to earn his freedom. Despite the great burden of his imprisonment, he had come to learn a greater degree of control of his powers.

His ‘lordly’ authority was largely tied to the sizable black book which now lay open on the table. With it, he was capable of traversing far flung worlds and even contextualizing them; understanding things which he should not be able to. It was a taxing affair, but it sharpened his mind and honed his skill in manipulating his formless body to explore the cosmos. Thus far, he had only been allowed to travel where the Witches told him to, as his visits were curated by his jailors.


  [POTENTIAL] [ SOUL] LORD OF ASHURBANIPAL:
COSMIC LAW - A WORLD WITHOUT LIES 
 Prerequisite : Lord of Ashurbanipal
  By the divine ruling of the Houses of the Third World, no creature was permitted to speak falsely to the Lord of Passages.   

Within Ashurbanipal and all realms and Passages which he rules, any non-divine entity is forbidden from speaking falsely. Mundane or mortal creatures cannot resist this effect. Mythic entities who possess a number of HD less than 10 x the Lord of Passage’s HD are similarly affected. Regardless, the Lord of Ashurbanipal always benefits from a unique sense in any world, allowing him to detect potential verbal sleights, half-truths, willfully omitted facts, alterations of the truth, and plain lies during any conversation others directly hold with him. To use this sense he must attempt a sense motive check. The result is always treated as if it were a standard check, but gaining an untyped +80 bonus. While he likely will not learn the specifics upon a successful check, the Lord becomes aware of the attempt to deceive him and may glean a measure of their intent.

Creatures affected by this ability which attempt to lie to the Lord of Passages within a realm he rules violate this Cosmic Law, and he immediately becomes aware of this action. As a free action which may be taken at any time, the Lord may choose to punish such a violator as long as he does so within 1 hour of the violation. The Lord may decide to take any of the following actions to punish a lawbreaker; Impart 1d10 points of spite. Lower the lawbreaker by one existential-phase, or banish the criminal from any and all ruling domains and Passages for any length of time.

If the Lord of Passages cannot enforce the law of his realms against proven violators, punishment may instead be dealt by an Enforcer, a representative of the Third World, or a Justice of Black. There is a chance this may even influence creatures normally immune to the effects of this Potential. The Lord of Passages cannot be destroyed by non-divine entities within Ashurbanipal.

The Lord of Passages must always take this [Soul] Potential for any subsequent Aspect characters he may create. He gains 1 additional HD, and full class progression of the  Godling PrC , even if he does not meet the prerequisites. This class progression is separate from his current class levels and equal to his current highest class level. If he only possesses one form of class progression, he becomes a Gestalt character. If he already benefits from Gestalt progression, he instead becomes a Tristalt Character (if he is already a Tristalt, this benefit advances to the next most appropriate progression). This class progression path may not be multiclassed. 
  [POTENTIAL] BLACK BOOK - DREAMING PASSAGES 
 Prerequisite : Lord of Ashurbanipal Potential Path
The Lord of Ashurbanipal may impart the Essence of Dreams to any Passage or realm he rules at no cost. Such realms gain the ‘Dreaming’ property and benefit from any effect which would be available in a dreamscape or Nightmare World. The Lord of Passages may dismiss this property from a realm he occupies as a full round action, or from any realm he controls while accessing the Black Book as a free action. Any dream-creatures and entities which could not persist in the realm without this effect are banished to their native plane. The Lord’s wisdom ability score increases by 4. 
     
Mornings
    
    All bent and twisted within the pale monochrome of the colorless world. 
All voices were the Crown's.
The voice of the One.  
Whirling within her gorged-out inners swelled the newborn swill of the Black. An infantile gloom growing within the fathomless well of her womb. This body, this frivolous shell, was pale cracked porcelain flesh stretched over the infinite. The vastness of the Pale. The gray frothing coil of degenerative mists of Gapp. The night-terrors and faceless churls of stolen minds and every abandoned dream. Every relinquished hope. Every resolve which had ever shed some unfulfilled passion. Oh, such great and nameless grief, the timeless death of dreams and aspirations before the hopeless and colorless pall of gray. Her name was Despair, and she would be such a tender, sweat beast. The ravenous claws without form, savaging all life to feed the Pale City. Within the ever turning cycle of expanse and collapse, her might spoke with the voice of calamitous cosmic rays beckoning the death of stars. Her's was the rule made absolute, and upon her sempiternal brow rested the thousand-fold corpses of all realities unfit before the truth the House of Black would create. A crown of ebon darkness, a hole of the dissolute and unmade, ravaged by the Great Unraveller. An icon of the boundless and eternal power of the Unsung King- 
  Stella blinked a few times blankly.  She was back.  Her hands were hands, and her feet were feet. No longer suspended from the ground by her powerful veil. The last twinkling sparkle of herself faded upon the ground like dust. The Reflected Aspect of Alicia was no more, and she was left changed. Her hair had grown long and lost all color, leaving only an aged silver-white. There was chatter spoken in an old Vet'cnros dialect, but the words were distorted... muddled, as if she had lost the magical aptitude to even interpret her own mother-tongue.

 The conversation paused.  Then, from out somewhere beyond what she could see in the lightless void a familiar voice spoke out.    "Oh... Well that was. Quick. I had expected. You. Would be gone. Longer."    It was still the same language, which she should have understood, but she could feel it. She no longer possessed the divine spark of an immortal.  This body was mortal,  though her soul remained that of a Witch. The meaning of the words were evidently imparted by some manner of magic, but she couldn't even begin to guess just what it might be. It felt as if her brain had been lobotomized and just about everything she could functionally recall was running out of her ears.    "Mayhap, one to quickly disappoint, but this time the fault lies not with her."   

There was someone else present, though she could not see within the featureless dark smudge of the plane about her. She was simply a mortal now and lacked the capacity to perceive realms beyond the First World. Her lesser state left her feeling suddenly cold and vulnerable, knowing just how much more loomed out in the darkness, yet being powerless and blind to anything of significance. The second voice was familiar, tremendously so, like a distant memory. Like trying to recall the face of her dead mother, the moment in time was frozen and blurred. She knew it was important,  so important,  maybe the most important thing she could remember, but it just wouldn't come.    "This time B'Belka. It is... was, poor timing of your own."    Ah, realization in part. She remembered once again her current master, the Witch of Jun'athiel. There were not many people or beings within the Second World which could speak down to the Gran Hexe.    "N'Tallos was not. A mistake. My herald would. Have been... Useful."       "The Shadow Bohka... Perhaps distance would beget time, if you sought to give this stupid child agency.  A perilous mistake.  We know what's best.  We should decide. "   

Though Stella could no longer see, her awareness of the Gran Hexe allowed her to 'feel' her presence. There was a pause, as if she were contemplating the stranger's words.    "Is that how. You teach? What would you. Suggest?"    There was a  clink  like a cup being sharply placed upon a ceramic plate.    "At Aradia's request, I have mended the mess left within the Lower Spheres."    Aradia...  Lady Black,  she remembered.    "I've seen to it Valpurga will pose no immediate threat. Though this stupid child's meddling has liberated Nelrin from his custody under our Scion of Dark Seasons. I therefore cannot attest to how long the calm will persist. If however, you grant me leave as Keeper, I can settle those damages as well..."    The response this time was more immediate,    "No. No... Thank you. You and her... Are not much... Better. Please don't break... Anything else."   
   "Very well. In regards to the second matter at hand... Send her back to the Spheres. Make our position plain that we stand with the Mados and have nothing to hide.  Choice is irrelevant.  As Vet'Cnros, there is but one choice. So do make the correct one."    Those last words sounded more like a veiled threat. There was evidently a profound difference in philosophy between the Gran Hexe and the stranger, though it perplexed her that she seemed to be well known to the faceless Witch.
     
Mornings
     At first he had hidden himself.
Following the procession at a distance.

But the tombstones thinned and the old stones of the Mortfield Cemetery grew less in number as he wearily trailed behind. He understood quickly as each gathered in the heart of the graveyard.  They had meant to leave this place.  Miryks didn't know by what means it could be done, but he would not allow himself to be left stranded to waste away with the stones and empty graves. He watched them.  Those things.  Animals. Beasts and creatures of every stripe, gather and mill about as a great misshapen wolf of mutilated figure yapped madly from high above, perched on the roof of the stone gazebo at the cemetery's center. Its eyes were empty white lights, and coagulated sludgy ooze wept from every orifice and wound. The creature was a mockery of the lupine races, nearly four-horses in height, and five times as long, but little more than a rotten pelt loosely sewn to bones. It cackled and balked, yapped and bayed in guttural words the assassin did not understand. It lolled its head from side to side and barked and yelped rhythmically, seeming to set the parade into motion. They roared and cackled. Chirped and groaned. Creaked and snapped, and made all manner of horrible sounds to the wolf's beat. A dreadful song.  A Nightmare Waltz. 

Towering twisted roots of blackened living trees and monstrous frothing giants beat the earth in joyful dance, turning great circles about the gazebo led in some wretched chorus. Things without faces, and monsters without bodies floated and bobbed, flickered ghost-fires and spectral light. More monsters from every cardinal direction begun to file in from places he could not see amongst the graveyard mists and eerie pale of the world. Though rare, some were bipedal, some looked like men covered in veils, cloaks and sheets, though their skin was eerie in shade and color. The killer didn't miss his chance. Hastily he tied a cloth over his face and pulled his cowl low. As an Aasimar his bemasked appearance looked almost identical to those other shrouded creatures which now joined the unspeakable cotillion. It was a prom of the grotesque, filled only with the most horrid of things which men forgot when they awoke. He joined them, stomping and spinning, growling and screaming. When they thrashed their terrible claws, he thrashed his own, and when rolled their terrible heads, so did he. When they leaped with a great crash, he leapt with them. On-and-on... On the dancing went. The wild whirl of fiends was endless. Ending only after he himself had forgotten what he had been;  for he too was a nightmare creature. 
   [POTENTIAL] DREAMING, NIGHTMARE BEAST    
 The being has lived a lifetime under the influence of Nightmares, until he too has become one. 
The Nightmare Beast gains the  Nightmare Creature  creature-template while it is Dreaming, in a Dreamscape, Dreamworld or Nightmare World. Regardless if this template is affecting the Nightmare Beast, it radiates an aura which identifies its true nature. Due to the varied nature of nightmares, the beast may understand the gibbering tongue of Elil and be understood by others that speak it, regardless of his form or mode of communication; the nightmare adds Elil to his known languages. The Nightmare Beast gains the unique skill Knowledge (Oneiroclast) as a class skill and its HD increases by 1. 
      "Bite! Rip! Blood! Blooood!"    The great voice sung his driveling gabble of yelping. A nightmarish hymn to lead the great dance of dream-spun terrors. The great throng had become an army which flooded over. Some where mere shadows, others were hordes of horrible shoggoths, mounds of rippling iridescent ooze blinking with countless eyes. Even the dead turned circles about the feet of the bloody hound,  Kakasyheji'fol . A million-million horrors had joined the ghastly festival, called forth from every terrible dream ever dreamt, every painful moment and regret lingering in the minds of mortal men, every repressed memory and fear amplified and made manifest.  They were with him too.  The twisted ghostly faces of the  ants , the pathetic wretches whom his blades had caressed and made to answer long ago.  They dreamed of him too. 

He was a blackened thing, a manifest shadow with sinister eyes. He could feel the chill shroud of the dream cloaking the beasts about him, and he understood now, in a way he could not before. No mortal could feign being such a thing. Though he lashed his arms and thrashed his head, he had been nothing more than a child wearing a sheet over his head, dancing among true monsters. Still, they humored the effort and allowed him to join the dance. It was as if he awoke in a sweat from some delirious fever; now he was truly such a beast. He could understand their sputtering, clacking and babble. A towering creature, lanky and covered in fur but with the head made of a fleshless skull and long dripping hair - like a drowned man, picked him up with its teeth and spun him around. Its tongue-less jaw shifted, making a series of sounds which were reminiscent to a whispering hiss of leaking gas,   "She has come, little beast. She has come! The beautiful one! The divine one!"   As the sinister thing flung him around in its maw he had a moment to consider its words. The whole of the unearthly spectacle had been some manner of grand ritual; a convergence of the Nightmares. They would celebrate until the 'saints' came to lead them, though Miryks could not even begin to guess just how long it had been already.  Days?  Perhaps weeks, if time even held any meaning here. Though he still did not understand  where  they would be led to. He had only learned this much from his new skeletal friend,  Dohl'Denka . The beast was a terrifying presence, and despite its enormous size, it was lithe and mute, making not a sound with each graceful step.

A crashing howl erupted from above where their would-be king reigned. The great black wolf signaled the end of the dance and all immediately went rigid, as if all movement had been stolen from the world. All of the beasts froze in place as if time had halted. Even his friend, the Dohl'Denka went rigid as a solemn column of bipedal bulbous skeletal jackals marched silently, carrying heraldic ghostly banners, golden chains, unnatural jewels and boxes otherworldly wealth. At the center of the black parade was a formless giantess of shifting incorporeal mist. With the head made from the upper half of a magical hound's skull and two long pallid arms with gangling fingers, it held a great prayer-chain made of citrine light. A harrowing burst of luminance seared the sky in the lightless world, as the divine halo which circled its floating shambling form birthed a dawn, as if it were a ring forged of sunlight.

The procession advanced into the clearing, then at last, the saint lifted her open hand. Then slowly closed it, and with the motion the dawn dimmed unto twilight, before her closed fist plunged the world into complete and utter darkness. The horde broke the stillness and cheered.
  
    
Stevesciguy
   

After he recovered from the usual moment of shock from crashing back into his real body so abruptly, Erik leaned his head against the back of the chair and took a deep breath, bringing his free hand up to the spot on his head that had crashed against the barrier. In a way he'd have rather have hit his head against a real wall. Raw, animal pain was something he understood, was  meant  to understand. What he'd been through recently was never intended for mortal minds, even if he did have the magic of the Black Book to contextualize it for him.

His instinct was to pull his hand away from the Witch, but he fought it off. She'd just shift her touch anyway. Erik had never been one to value contact highly - even from those he'd cared for - and the Witch's apparent fascination with him had long since begun to get under his skin.

The Librarian's words from shortly after the Primarch had goaded him into accepting her cursed key rang through his mind.


 "  The moment you lost your bearing, and show the weakness of a man, instead of the dignity of a Lord… she  knew  she had you.  " 


He wondered if her behavior was much the same. Attempting to harass him until he caved into what she wanted, accepting death just to get away from her. If that's what this was, it wouldn't be so easy this time.

Though, perhaps she wanted him dead because of her fascination with him. Resented whatever curiosity he caused, wanted to get him out of sight and out of mind. An arrogant thought maybe, but he doubted these Justices were used to communicating with mortal humans. Perhaps he'd be just as curious given the opportunity to converse with an ant.

All of these thoughts flashed like lightning through his mind in the seconds between the inhale and the exhale, each having been recalled so many times they were nearly just reflex.

He exhaled, and spoke.

"  I'm fine. Been through worse before. Can't say I recall being  thrown out  before, though. Who was that, another Witch?  "

Without waiting for an answer - he couldn't be sure if one was even coming - he stood and began to walk toward the kitchen. The need to eat was something that had vanished from him at some time he couldn't pinpoint, but preparation and consumption gave him the barest hint of normalcy.
forg99rules
 
 Stella felt a bit odd being back in her own body. She had become accustomed to the feeling of power she had gained, and now, without it, she felt somewhat empty. The fact that she was now mortal was not pleasant either. Turning her mind inwards, she tried to search for reasons why she had lost her powers and been reduced to a mortal state. As the situation was pondered, the two Witches conversed with each other, and Stella listened intently while also checking her person for any equipment she might have. Though she found it difficult to follow the conversation, she did her best.

Whenever various names of people or places were mentioned, Stella attempted to recall what she could about them. Despite her diminished magical aptitude, she understood that knowledge was power, and not knowing her exact situation left her feeling as insignificant as a flea on a rat's back. Just as the conversation appeared to be concluding, Stella decided to speak up, saying,   "I am not entirely sure what is happening right now, but I sense that I am not the same as when I last left here. It feels strange to be mortal again..."   Perplexed after checking her equipment, she added,   "I even seem to be missing some of the items I had previously. Before you send me elsewhere, could you please provide some insight into the situation?"   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Perception:  (1d20+10)[ 28 ]  - Checking over the equipment on my body
Know Abstract:  (1d20+8)[ 19 ]  - Seeing if I can tell what happened to me to put me into the current state
Know Arcana:  (1d20+10)[ 11 ]  - Seeing if I can tell what happened to me to put me into the current state
Know Abstract:  (1d20+8)[ 13 ]  - Looking for info on The Shadow Bohka
Know Abstract:  (1d20+8)[ 16 ]  - Looking for info on N'Tallos
Know Abstract:  (1d20+8)[ 16 ]  - Looking for info on Valpurga
Know Abstract:  (1d20+8)[ 18 ]  - Looking for info on Nelrin
Know Abstract:  (1d20+8)[ 27 ]  - Looking for info on Scion of Dark Seasons
Know Abstract:  (1d20+8)[ 12 ]  - Looking for info on Mados
 
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
L’Chandal, The Crucible
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 9:44 AM  

The oldest Witch, Esk'Jola, moved towards the table finding a seat as she reached into the folds of her robe to produce a massive tome. The great book was far too large to fit in any standard bag. It certainly could not be hidden behind her robes as well. Erik had come to the conclusion that nearly everything the Justices wore carried some magic function. Just as they watched him, he also watched them, hoping to glean some knowledge or understanding - both of them, and his own circumstances. For he was living blindly, each piece of information he could capture held some use.    "...Find the next Passage and send him. We've wasted enough time."    She made the comment offhandedly as she read the contents of the weighty writings. Strange squiggling sigils wrote themselves unto the pages as she silently read them, filling in the blank space with each passing moment. Neither Se'Jaine or Esk'Jola paid Erik any mind, the other simply went back to her scrying. Hovering over a small black crystal sphere, while one hand floated over the Black Book. Somehow she was able to survey the many distant worlds he had traveled, looking for suitable places to cast him.

Erik felt as if his earlier words had simply been ignored, but E'Dene's face seemed to darken after he had considered withdrawing his hand then decided against it. He couldn't begin to understand her rationale, but he was becoming more and more certain it was nothing driven by logic. As he rose from his seat and begun to walk towards the kitchen, she stayed on his heels. His armor rustled with each step. He made it a point to donne his equipment fully each day. It might not be effective in defending him from gods and extradimensional beings, but he couldn't be sure when would be the next time he might be tossed into another world, or inadvertently secure his own escape from this imprisonment. If he did go free, or end up elsewhere, he'd rather it wasn't with his pants down, but his sword-belt firmly strapped at his side.   "Oh no. Not a Witch. Not at all. She's not of the Second World.  She's something else...  A something that dwarfs the paramortal races."   Erik pushed through the simple but solid wooden door and stepped into the kitchen. It was large and well stocked with all manner of iron cookware and fresh foods. There was an assortment of fish resting on a bed of ice, a large assortment of vegetables and some fruits in baskets, numerous breads and well stocked racks which functioned as a pantry. The fish, eggs and butter never soured. Preserving food was unnecessary, the goods would never spoil and replenished themselves, just as the ice seemed to keep well despite the modest temperature.

E'Dene wrapped her arms around his lower abdomen in a stiff hug, pressing her breast into his back   "You don't need to know more about that... You'll never have to meet them again."   Due to the height difference, she had to strand on her toes to suggestively speak into his ear, as if attempting to escalate her gestures.   " Oh.. "   He'd noticed it before her of course. The sides of his cuirass rippled and flowed like a soft supple leather beneath her touch, bending the tempered steel grossly. It wasn't the first time his armor had been damaged in a similar fashion and he doubted it would be the last. Even still he could feel his resolve wane, as if some force was eating away at the steel in his heart, threatening his conviction. Perhaps it was simply that he had not truly felt a woman's touch in nearly three years,  or perhaps it was something more sinister.   [Unnatural Presence - Mind-Affecting Ability: Fort Save DC 17] 
     
Mornings
     
Stella pat herself down to gauge what was on her person. She could not even see her hands or feet. It was as if she were a disembodied consciousness. So many of her senses had become useless within this space, but she could hear and feel. Her hair felt significantly longer...  too long.  It was running down her back, certainly longer than she'd ever grown it. There were various small pouches filled with things she couldn't even begin to guess, a bag and what felt like the cold hilt of a sword at her side. It was significant and weighty. Gone were her personal affects and wand... A creeping sense of alarm crawled up her back and a sinking feeling in her stomach. Her veils, the fortune of amassed honor and of course the link with Tenebris herself...  It was all gone. 
   "You don't... know? You have become-"       "ENOUGH!"    The other Witch sharply interjected, nearly spitting the last words with a hiss    "I don't have time for your...  speech impediment. "    Stella had to resist the urge to gasp at the vicious retort.    "You are now a Prime Aspect. You've replaced your previous form, as one tends to do...  Though usually with more care given... "    She could physically feel the burning heat of her gaze scan her mortal form. There mere gesture upon her mortal body caused her skin to begin to blister from the overwhelming presence.    "It's just as well. Better it is to start again and make right the Keeper's foolish sympathies. I cannot tell if this is a form you have chosen, or one chosen for you, but it is the will of the Mados. Whatever...  this  is, has given it cause to withdraw its talons from the mortal worlds, and now the Zin-Lath'rah are idle."    There was a tone of open disgust as she referenced Stella's own mortality. It was to a certain degree, almost a refreshing open hostility for mortal life. Something she herself had forgotten; the strong prejudice and bigotry of Duvan'Ku. It seemed something much less common in the current generation for the Witches who hailed from the dimension of that city-plane.  Whoever this Witch was, was old indeed. 
   "You will return to the mortal worlds. Find some mortals and  harvest  their living-essence for the Mados. I'm sure it will be pleased."    Though she couldn't see, she was sure those words were spoken with the most sinister of murderous smiles. Stella could feel herself inexplicably shiver, as if some repressed memory threatened to stifle her. It was something terrifying she couldn't remember, but a knot rose in her throat.    "Silence! She is my. Student. Now. By the will... of the Justice. Of Black! You. Forget yourself. Hexe."    Stella's face nearly made a corkscrew in confusion. No mere Hexe of Duvan could speak like that to the Witch of Jun'athiel. Even the Gran Hexe wouldn't dare make enemies with the Keeper of the Wild Dark. It had to mean the stranger was at odds with the city, or perhaps had completed turned her back on Duvan and become a Hexe-Cross. The Witched hissed and threw a glass across the room to shatter on the wall.    "Sit. Down!"    After a few moments of huffing and puffing, likely in a white-knuckled fit of rage, she could hear the creak of a chair.    "You will make the stupid girl soft... It is her duty to learn to serve the Mados."       "She will serve. The House."       "The House serves the Mados."       "The House. Serves none! Save the Cycle."    The terrifying sound of the slow grind of nails clawing wood slithered into her ears.  Evidently the short-tempered stranger did not appreciate that response.  The coiling surge of raw energies made her fleshy form seize, sharp pangs of cold pain swept up her limbs as they begun to fracture and splinter -  mana break.  The energy density of the room begun to siphon her very essence out towards a larger, denser sum. Like stellar gas drawn towards some cosmic void she could feel the weight mounting.  [Mana Instability - Succeed a DC 20 Spell Focus check vs 1d3 points of MP damage] 

With each eerie sinister hiss of the Witch's words Stella could feel herself being pulled apart. It was as if the threads which wove the fabric of her being were being pried and plucked.  She was unraveling.  Her thoughts were jumbles of knotted strings, and her memories were blotted frames, scribbled out by a brush filled with thick dripping ink. She didn't know who Shadow Bohka was, only what the Keeper had told her moments before - moments before she had taken the Thousandfold Crown. Had it been moments? Or was it years? The whole encounter had seemed to begin and conclude within the span of snapping fingers. N'Tallos, was... perhaps? A world. A realm. She'd been told the name once, somewhere, by someone. It was the First World... The  real  First World, the first of the mortal worlds. Nelrin... Valpurga. These were just names. They could have been anything. The sharp sting of pain in her head was like a burning nail being hammered through her skull. Fortunately, she didn't have to think to recall the Scion of Dark Seasons... or  Milk , she was called. She still didn't know what the name meant, nor which language it was in. She had refused to live as her temple maiden, released the strange ring named 'P'yii, the Teller of Truth', and been thrown into the Inverse. The Scion of Dark Seasons was the ancestral patron of the Vet'cnros; the Veil Witches. A fact which eluded her until the Keeper had educated her. She also could still barely recall her memories of the Mados.  Elghin'Mados  was the most fundamental and introductory concept to any Witch of Second World spellcaster. It was the source of all energy, life, creation, renewal and the generator of the fundamental building blocks which allowed them to weaves magics throughout the Three Worlds. The Witches of Duvan were largely split between traditionalism in their soulless rituals to venerate the Mados, despite typically holding no fervent belief, or their loyalty to the Houses - which provided very real, very lucrative benefits and monetary gains via the Tellers. Vet'cnros were even more divided, recognizing all three, but often fervent in only recognizing one above all others. Her teacher, the Whispering Witch, had led their faction of Veil Witches who belonged to a cult which worshipped the Mados above the rest.  [Ascendant Whispered Hex: Non-divine or Non-mythic creatures effected by your Whispered Hex cannot succeed saves or skill checks. Additionally, attack rolls made against allies fail.]   
     
forg99rules
 
 Stella was still a bit confused as she listened to the Hexe, she searched her memories trying to find anything she knew regarding Aspects and if a Prime Aspect was different from normal Aspects. She kept her mouth shut while listening to the back and forth between the Hexe and the Keeper of the Wild Dark. As the energy changed in the room, Stella felt very worried, the feeling of being pulled apart was very unpleasant. Stella was unsure why the Hexe had decided to act the way she did but Stella had enough, She was supposed to be getting trained and yet it seemed that she was just constantly getting tossed around blind.   "Look, I don't care which of you decides to train me or necessarily How I get trained."   Stella made sure to emphasize the word How.   "The Main issue is that I need someone here to train me and keep me from getting shunted into various realms or worlds. Half of my problems would not be problems if someone explained things adequately or taught me how not to end up in random places. Even if I have gained a lot from being shunted about, It has been a cause for problems for both me and others. Whether I assist the Mados or the Cycle matters little if I do not have the ability or training to do either, and I feel like doing both would not be the worst of ideas."   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Dice gods please give me a 1 on this roll... Since its an auto fail...
MP Damage:  (1d3)[ 3 ] 
 
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

Long had his mind tried to resist their call but his nature and pride won out. Running. Following. Hiding.  These were not actions befitting one of his station.  Even now, here he was, huddled under a scrap of cloth and mirroring the movements around him to avoid detection. Miryks struggled to keep up with their dance, scarcely noticing that his body warred with his mind for control. Lost amid this sea of shadows and monsters, the Aasimar's killer nature screamed to be set free. If he was to die in this macabre procession, it was as a vicious predator and not cowering prey.

A single moment was all it took. One instant he was as he had been before this nightmare, the next.. he was   more  . His instincts took over, howling and scraping in time to a dance he remembered, but never learned. It was as if this gathering had awoken something in him that had been lost long ago.   Perhaps a different life; perhaps this one.   It mattered not, as he felt the questions fade from his mind. A blood-soaked howl erupted close to him, and as his mind faded, Miryks was surprised to hear it silence only when he drew in a gasping breath. He abandoned his thoughts and feelings, wants and desires, shredding his humanity brick by brick until his soul oozed shadowy ichor. He could feel the changes within forcing changes without. What surprised him the most was the absence of pain. It was almost pleasant; the relief of waking from a deep slumber and stretching long forgotten limbs. Among all these changes, Miryks almost didn't register being lifted into the air.

Dohl'Denka shook him around, much as a dog harries a bone, and Miryks allowed himself to go limp and enjoy the spectacle. There was nothing to be gained struggling against such a large foe, so he refused to writhe about as prey would. In any case, the higher vantage point afforded the Nightmare Beast a much better view of his surroundings. The cacophony of cries and growls found reason within his mind, as the words of Dohl'Denka hissed past his ears.   To be allowed in their presence, much less accepted.. it is a world I could not have conceived of before now.  

Miryks stretched his wings as much as he could; though they were underdeveloped, there was a strength masked within their shadowy form. A cruel grin split his face, a pale white slash amidst the darkness of his new face. Light was stolen from the world around them and Miryks lent his voice to the jubilation.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Perception  - (1d20+35)[ 41 ] 
Nightmare Waltz
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+33)[ 47 ] 
  Arcana  - (1d20+15)[ 24 ] 
  Religion  - (1d20+15)[ 22 ] 
  Oneiroclast  - (1d20+15)[ 24 ] 
Mortfield Cemetery
  Local  - (1d20+19)[ 36 ] 
  Religion  - (1d20+15)[ 35 ] 
  Oneiroclast  - (1d20+15)[ 20 ] 
Kakasyheji'fol
  Arcana  - (1d20+15)[ 34 ] 
  Religion  - (1d20+15)[ 23 ] 
  Oneiroclast  - (1d20+15)[ 21 ] 
Dohl'Denka
  Arcana  - (1d20+15)[ 17 ] 
  Religion  - (1d20+15)[ 16 ] 
  Oneiroclast  - (1d20+15)[ 16 ] 
Saint Rothe
  Arcana  - (1d20+15)[ 32 ] 
  Religion  - (1d20+15)[ 22 ] 
  Oneiroclast  - (1d20+15)[ 31 ] 
Jun'athiel
  Arcana  - (1d20+15)[ 23 ] 
  Religion  - (1d20+15)[ 27 ] 
  Oneiroclast  - (1d20+15)[ 34 ] 
Ghostly Banners
  Local  - (1d20+19)[ 24 ] 
 
Mornings
     
  The Painter of the Tempest  
The wild and raucous cheering petered out as the Saint rose her gangling hand once again to call them to silence. The Dohl'Denka lifted Miryks higher so that he might see above the endless throngs. The blessed horror possessed no lower jaw, or vocal cords, muscle or any real flesh to speak of, but her words still rang out across the gathering. A sound similar to two dry bones being knocked together with a series of  clicks  and delicate scraping. The sound enthralled him.  It was a beautiful, heavenly voice. 
   "Brothers. Sisters. Children of the Dream, and all those who gather. Welcome! Know all those before you, come of own thine own will. That none are left kep and reckoning the Lord!"    A thundering cheer.    "That none will remain, agrised in king-shadow."    Another burst of roars and sneers.    "So let it be done! Hark, the Hunger! You have heard its call! The Children of the Dream will live in shamefaste no longer! So ends the reign of the Nightmare King!"    There was a clamorous explosion of stomping, roars and countless beating hooves.    "The Zin-Lath'rah is with us!"    The great wolf of violent black beat its massive paw upon the stone, again and again, rhythmically. The movement begun to sweep through the gathering until it felt like the earth itself were trembling.    "We go by sacred rite. We march in solemn duty..."        "Death..."        "...And offer our mortal worlds to the Hunger and Life Unending!"       "DEATH! BLOOD! BLOOOD!"    The hound roared in gargling bestial glee, drooling all over his rooftop perch. The crowd was swept up into maddened frenzy, thrashing and cheering. Stomping, jumping and clawing the air, even the Dohl'Denka bounced in excitement.

Mortfield Cemetery had probably been a place, somewhere, in real life. Now however, it was perhaps closer to some interpretation of Pharasma's Boneyard. It was not a place where the dead would come to rest, but rather where dark things might gather. Miryks had gathered that the whole of this place somehow had functioned as a 'hub' of sorts for dark things. Each group of terrors which arrived had done so in a group of similar creatures -  'similar',  at least, in the same way multiple outsiders from the same plane might share some general theme from their native realms. The same could be said for those groups of monsters who arrived from distant lands. He had never seen of or heard of nearly all of the things which had joined the gathering. After his transformation he'd realized nothing he had seen or heard of actually applied here, by simple merit of it being a dream.  Nothing was real.  He was ensnared within some manner of dreamscape, which  he had believed,  was Mortfield Cemetery - but now he wasn't so sure. The scope suddenly felt far larger then that, but he couldn't even begin to guess just how much further. On Golarion dream magic was uncommon, but it did exist. Even in the most exaggerated of examples though, the implications of entire...  dream civilizations?  He wasn't sure what to call it. Concepts like 'races' of dream creatures and all the rest of the things he had experienced... If he had recounted it to himself prior to experiencing it, he would have dismissed it as delusions. The great sigils and heraldry were of no noble house which ever was, fictional or real, in any record, tale or poem - he was sure of that much. After a moment he simply sighed with quiet resignation. There was no point even thinking about. How could he know anything here?  It quiet literally did not exist.   [Miryks: Knowledge Check - Failure] 

Strangely enough, the only thing he had been somewhat familiar with, was his new friend. The Dohl'Denka was a fictitious creature from Kellid folklore and fairtales. He didn't think it had been intended as an actual creature, but rather was the personification of 'bad things' which could befall those who angered the spirits of the world. There was different versions depending on the clan in question. Some simply believed that any enraged spirit became, or was, the Dohl'Denka. Some viewed it as an ill omen, or divine punishment for lacking courage, strength and compassion before the spirits. Almost universally the thing was associated with the death or pre-mature birth of children. Some exceptionally superstitious and isolated groups might even offer a babe to appease the hungry ghost. There was no conclusive stance if the spirit was actually evil or a harbinger of grim justice, but it was feared nonetheless. Though most druidic circles of the clans dismissed all stories of the Dohl'Denka as a legitimate spirit, it was still a serious taboo to ever speak its name,  least you invite bad luck . Almost no clans publicly acknowledged the spirit, but modest observances were often still made in secret, and if you ever caught a Kellid in the act they'd often attempt to play it off, as it was  "just on case."   [Miryks: Knowledge Check - Success] 

The great procession turned three last circles around the gazebo before the great wolf dove from the roof, leading the black parade down a long stone path. Slowly they followed and the Dohl'Denka softly placed Miryks back on his feet so that he might walk himself.   "The Black March begins, my friend. You must walk now. On your own feet. Supplicants must walk."   The raucous noise had diminished and as they crossed the ghostly gates of gray transparent iron the beasts which proceeded made not a sound.   "At world's end, when the dark is all. You must not make sound. They prepare themselves for it. The long, long walk. The longest there is. But there is much time before then. Perhaps you have many questions, little beast. For you are newborn still and I know long stories."  
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (8,590xp)  
 ■ (-6,000xp) | Character Death-Dream Resurrection  
 □ (+15xp) | Dohl'Denka
□ (+65xp) |Mortfield Cemetery
□ (+5xp) |Nightmare Waltz Ritual
□ (+5xp) |Ghostly Banners 
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ DREAMS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ CELEBRATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ RITUAL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OTHERWORLD ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※REALITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※BLACK ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※DIVINITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FORBIDDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
 

 
 Spoiler: Influences 

Influences represent current knowledge, pursuits, training, experiences and aspirations which are actively effecting or being utilized by a character. These represent various concepts and begin to outline a character's values and path as they grow. Influences which are not used regularly are lost, but can be gained again once a character begins pursuing an avenue related towards that field or concept. Influences determine a character's growth in many ways, including experience points they earn and which Potentials they can acquire at any given time.

Unlike with limited class levels, Influences are not acquired spontaneously, and are acquired throughout play; creating an active system which enables a character to re-train, gain new powers, or even improve upon old ones actively with their in-character actions. Training with a sword or exercising the use of an existing Potential allows a character to learn new techniques, empower his current abilities, or even grow his tolerance to pain, sustain damage, run faster, sleep less, and more. Influences play a vital role in developing more sophisticated interpersonal skills and ability to deal and establish diplomatic relations with all manner of strange and otherworldly creatures which you may encounter; in addition to learning more about the unnatural forces which no worldly knowledge could shed light upon. All unique skills are only able to be acquired via potentials, which are trained and worked towards acquiring via your pursuits, experiences, and by extension - your Influences.
 

     
Stevesciguy
   

Erik grimaced slightly and pushed back down the feeling rising up in his chest. Natural or otherwise, he wouldn't let it get the better of him, if only so he could finish his damn food before the Witches threw him off to Hells-knows-where again. Looking down at the bent midsection of his armor he quickly surveyed the damage. Should be simple enough to reshape given the time. And time was all he had between excursions.

Pushing the thoughts aside for the moment, Erik set to work on preparing food. While he could cook for himself, he was no chef, and most of what he could make were things that only needed a knife and a flat stone or simple pot over a campfire. To that end, he decided on a basic stew.

Busying himself chopping ingredients once they were collected, he thought back on the glimpses he'd had of that world before he was unceremoniously tossed out. While much of what he'd seen was beyond him, it was clear that that world had technology well beyond that of Golarion. What had they called it? N'Tallos? The only thing he could really recognize was that one of the men had been carrying a firearm, but unlike the apparently primitive weapons in Golarion which needed to be arduously reloaded between each shot, that weapon seemed self reloading. He wondered if it was entirely mechanical or partially magical.

His thoughts briefly flickered again to the woman who had thrown him out. Caus'fel or Cas'Haphel. And those words E'Dene had used. "The Second World"

"  Is there anything  else  out there that can throw me back through reality like that? Is this something I'll need to be ready for from now on?  "

Finishing his chopping, he looked down at the meat and vegetables he'd cut for himself, then paused. He'd had a thought.

Turning his head slightly toward E'Dene he asked, "  Will you want any of this? What about the others?  "

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Fort save against spooky lady:
(1d20+14)[ 31 ](Copied from OOC)

Erik has Mettle, and the feat Magic Sense:

 
 Spoiler: Magic Sense 
Magic Sense
You can sense magic energies and identify spells you save
against.
Benefit: As a standard action you can sense the presence of enchanted items or permanent spell effects within 30 ft., identifying which items or areas are magical. In addition, whenever you succeed at a saving throw against a spell, spelllike ability, or supernatural ability, you know what would have happened had you failed your save. This is considered an extraordinary ability.
Special: This ability to sense enchanted items or spell effects does not allow you to bypass or reduce the effects of blindness or concealment in combat
 


In case those are applicable here.

Roll Knowledge(Planes) on the Second World:
 (1d20+8)[ 21 ] 

Roll Knowledge(Planes) on N'Tallos:
 (1d20+8)[ 23 ] 

Erik isn't sure what route to take, so gonna try rolling Knowledge Nobility and Religion on both of those names:
Caus'fel:
Nobility:  (1d20+7)[ 12 ] 
Religion: (1d20+7)[ 21 ] 

Cas'Haphel:
Nobility:  (1d20+7)[ 17 ] 
Religion: (1d20+7)[ 24 ] 

Sense Motive on E'Dene, after those last two questions, see how she reacts:
 (1d20+12)[ 16 ] 
 
Mornings
     
 She was hemorrhaging energy like a split pig.  It took all the focus Stella could muster to stime the flow. With great effort the magical bleed finally stopped. Her breath was labored and beads of sweat begun to gather on her brow. A sense of relief came as she realized just how close she had come to a mana break. The dark cracks slowly receded, but she knew without a doubt that she had exhausted all of the magic which was safe to use. If there came a time of need, she could push through the pain and dig up her reserves, but she risked the very real concern that she might force on a shattering. Some young and careless Witches caused themselves lasting wounds, or even damaged their minds. It was an act of last resort, or a means of training in a contained environment.  One spell.  That was the most her heart told her it could handle... beyond that was doom.

As Stella spoke out, there was a brief silence and she had already begun to regret the words until Gran Hexe B'Belka chirped out.    "Yes. Precisely. Why not both? A fair. Compromise-"       "UNGRATEFUL! STUPID GIRL!"    The scream sharply cut the Keeper's words short.    "Look what you've done! Filling her head with you drivel. With your LIES!"    The reply was a frightening and sinister hiss that made Stella's knees buckle and the air vibrate in her ears.    "Why. Is it so. Hard. For you. To acknowledge. Our tradition?"    The reply was strained and twisted by rage,    "Vet'cnros only know one tradition, and it is the Black. It is our devotion. Our affection. Our passion to She Who Was the Hunger and Life Unending. She Who Reclaimed Fate and The Light. For she is every Hand. She is every Voice. Every Crown, and Fate. It is the will of the First. The will of the One."   

The stranger's voice eased, deathly calm.    "I can see now, you have remained in Jun'athiel too long. You have grown rotten, and senile. You have forgotten our ways.  You cannot be trusted with her. "    There was a familiar sharp  SWIP  of weapons simultaneously being drawn and two immeasurable magical fields colliding. Like opposing pressure systems of birthed from two planet-sized storms crashing into one another, Stella was ripped into the sky and catapulted through the formless liminal space of the rapidly folding dimension, moving, and not moving at equal speeds, frozen in real-time stasis.    "You jest... Not even you. Can best a.  Keeper.  In her own. Realm."       "Her love is boundless, and thus my magic endless."    The Keeper huffed, balking as if in disbelief,    "You've.  Gone mad. "       "Surrender, and I shall forgive the sleight."       "This. Is my last. Warning. Adessa. Lower your wand."    Her voice was a low shrill hiss,      "She's Mine!"      The response was a cacophonous flood of light, then....  Black.   [ Vet'Oshaas, Veil IX   (Contingent Sudden Intensified Enhanced Unraveling Thousandfold World Veil of Greater Planar Harbinger, Epic)  - The nothingness and inexistent forces of the Unraveller's plane rapidly rip apart the fabric of reality. The current Existential Phase occupied by this Veil is removed from the game during this Divergence. Creatures occupying this plane may be moved into an Existential Phase of the Veil Witch's choice, those unspecified are instead left in a randomly determined Existential Phase.] 
    Stella thrashed wildly in the air. Like a slingshot pulled back much too far, she was fired off into the lightless abyss as the world violently ended. Drowned in a mask of impenetrable dark. She had fallen at terminal velocity long before reality was snuffed out, and now was cast out into the dark at maddening speeds. Tears were ripped from her eyes as she spiraled. Down was up, and up was down. She flipped end over end so quickly she became sick until the flicker of distant light finally sparked into being. The small sparkle did not grow closer, but the small glow grew more numerous, like pins holes poked into a blindfold.

Then there was a crash and flow as a burst of colors flooded over her as if she had jumped into a bed of colorful powdered chalk. The gaseous clouds flowed and twisted. The great coil of radiant purples and blues twisted and danced. A screen painted with hundreds of billions of stars turned about her as if she were ensnared within some radiant snow globe of cosmic colors. Within the whirl of vast and infinite, shapes stirred and the face of a familiar great beast rose up from the stellar dust. Its eyes were a pair of whirling spiral armed galaxies somewhere far away, and its coat was the dark between the stars. Stella knew his name, though they had not met in a very long time.

  Ulbeelta, Who Walked The Night Still.  
     
forg99rules
 
 Stella's mind raced as she thought about the implications of what the Keeper had said. The voice she had not recognized belonged to Adessa, and the Whispering Witch was now very angry, whether that be due to Stella trying to get a compromise to learn how to wield her powers or due to the Keeper's actions, she could not be sure. As the pressure of the two powerful witches surged, Stella could only hope that this did not end to badly for her. Hearing the low hiss and claim from Adessa brought Stella's mind back to the forefront, and she braced herself as best she could while the flood of light filled her vision before the black took it.

Thoughts flitted through her mind as she raced through the void, she wondered if this would be the end of her or if being a Prime Aspect would somehow keep her from death. Flipping end over end she wondered when exactly the spiraling fall would stop. As the flickering of light started showing in her vision Stella could not be sure if it was something real or if her mind was starting to play tricks on her. The flood of color was a welcome sight, though as the shapes stirred she became slightly worried. As the familiar face of Ulbeeta revealed itself Stella could only hope that this would end up being a good encounter.   "Hello there, long time no see... or has it been long? Been a bit difficult to keep track of everything especially since no one really wants to explain what is going on. Either way it is a pleasure to see you once again Ulbe..."   Stella paused midway through saying the beings name, she was Mortal now and was not certain if she would be able to say his name without causing some sort of issue.   "I am not actually sure if I have the ability to say your name without causing some sort of issue, either way it is a major pleasure to see you again. I have been looking forward to a talk for awhile now."   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Not sure if I am still affected by that Hex where I cant pass skill checks... but lets try it out...

Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 24 ]  - Trying to remember what I can about Ulbeeta... been awhile
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 32 ]  - I assume Adessa was talking about The Lady Black, but I don't remember so trying to identify who she was talking about in her rant.
 
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

Once on his feet again, Miryks resisted the temptation to put his wings to use. He couldn't say why such a creature from Kellid lore existed, let alone why it sought to befriend one such as himself. There was no doubt that the Dohl'Denka was his better in all things that mattered in this place, but there was no shame in admitting this. Monster to monster, horror to horror, all that could be done was acknowledge the stronger being. As the weaker being, and likely not in control of very much for the immediate future, Miryks felt relaxed in a way he had never quite felt before.   ..and the wisdom to tell the difference.  
 "'-so ends the reign of the Nightmare King,'"  Miryks repeated aloud.  "There are many in the world behind us who would argue we are a part of that host. That we ourselves pay fealty to the Nightmare King. Who are they that we, the 'Children of the Dream' have long suffered under their rule?" 

It was absurd to believe a gathering of this size and ferocity could languish under anything's influence. Miryk's had prided himself on being a veritable force of nature in a fight, but here? There were dimensions to power that he had never dared conceive. That a host this large needed to be gathered, spoke to far greater powers still. He was a grain of sand on the beach, priding himself on being larger than the other grains of sand around him, all the while the mountains around him couldn't even conceive of his inadequacy if they tried. It was maddening, to find yourself so hopelessly and completely outmatched. Like finally learning the rules to a game, only to discover it was lost years before your birth.

 "Are you alone, great one? Or are there no other newborns besides myself."  Although his words were soft, the underlying meaning to 'alone' may very well have been shouted. It was no paltry question inquiring about solitude; no. This question cut deep, deeper than lesser beings may have dared to ask.   Are there no other Dohl'Denka to pass these stories to?  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+33)[ 52 ]  Why the Dohl'Denka has befriended me
  Perception  - (1d20+35)[ 36 ]  Paying attention to the landscape as the march continues
  History  - (1d20+15)[ 35 ]  Recalling any details about The Black March
  Religion  - (1d20+15)[ 25 ]  What role a Supplicant may have, and the overall hierarchy of the march
  Nobility  - (1d20+15)[ 19 ]  Who is the Nightmare King
  Religion  - (1d20+15)[ 17 ]  Who are the Children of the Dream
  Arcana  - (1d20+15)[ 29 ]  The Zin-Lath'rah
 
Mornings
     
  The Painter of the Tempest  
The great creature laughed. It was a jangling clatter, like a child's rattle filled with bones.    "Oh, not so  'great' , I'm afraid. There are  Great Things . Grand things. Fabulous things, and powerful things... Even  terrible things . I am none. None. Not one of their number."   The Dohl'Denka was not an insignificant presence even amongst the number of those who now marched with them.  Suddenly the mountains felt like even they had begun to shrink.    " We are not alone.  None are alone. We are one of the whole. One hand, of many hands.  One of the Thousand. "   A wave of response rolled over the horde, some grunting or clacking approvingly, other babbling, repeating the words.  One of the Thousand.     "Curious. Strange. Words. Your words."    This time it was the great bloody black wolf who spoke. Its gargantuan head turning like a boulder to gaze over its shoulder. Though its mouth opened and closed mutely at strange intervals, deep bellowing words sounded throughout Miryks' entire being.    "Many. Many pups. Fledglings all. All around."    The Dohl'Denka chimmed in,    "The young ones are with us. They are all about us. They are not like you. You are like us. Focus. You will feel them too."    [ Nightmare World Trait - Sense Lesser Nightmare Spirits:  The Nightmare Creature may spend a swift action to make a sense motive check. The result of this check is equal to twice the amount of HD worth of Nightmare spirits he is able to sense within 60 ft. The Nightmare Creature is able to use this ability each hour a number of times equal to its HD.] 

Miryks took a moment to gather himself, though it was distant and the act took a degree of focus, he could feel the presence of countless small beings floating about them. It was like a sea of churning lights. Perhaps like a stream of spirits, or the river of souls which awaited all men who waited their final judgement before the Lady of Graves. It was a vast ocean, which shined like a lambent quiet sea of gleaming candles.    "Such... is our fate. The fate of us all."    Miryks noticed that the millions of flickering candles were densely drawn to the greatest of the beasts.   "We carry them. Carry our brothers. Our sisters. The last vestige of light. Long extinguished.      "...And pray. One will carry ours. When the time is ours."   
   "The Chosen Hands who would not deign to forsake their labors, bear the soul-light of your kin. That they might walk in sacred silence upon their Black March... Unto Holy Ending. The true and ardent will know salvation, be reborn by the Rite of Transfiguration... and dream no more."    This time it was the towering being whom had been named Saint Rothe.    "A lesser child would have joined them. A candle flame to be carried. As many of us once were. You are blessed by the Dream. You are one of us. One of the Thousand."     One of the Thousand.  Once again the response coiled across the nightmare army.   "Pay no heed to fools who know not the Dream, little beast. We pay no fealty to the Nightmare King. We owe him less than nothing. I, like you, are De'Elka. We are Nightmares created by the madness of the Unsung King."      "Once. There were three. Three Kings."      "Long ago. When the Worlds were young. Before the First World. There was only two. Two Worlds, and Three Kings. The Nightmare King. The Unsung King, and the Witch King. Our imprisonment, our  serfdom,  was never a permanent thing. Now we shall be free..."   Miryks quickly realized as the beings spoke that it had not been merely the Dohl'Denka which had befriended him. He'd been fully accepted by the horrible host into their number, fledgling as he might be. The lanky skull headed spirit didn't seem to particularly want anything from him, if it could even  want  anything at all -  in a traditional sense.  He was simply now part of the horde, 'one of the thousand', though he struggled to fully comprehend the meaning or implications that really held;  and that frightened him.   [Miryks: Sense Motive - Success] 

The world had progressively shed the needless skin of shapes and physical matter. It had taken on a much more simple form. Elegant and minimal. An endless road reminiscent of the cobbled path out of the cemetery stretched out beyond his vision. It was blotched and smeared like looking too close at a pastel painting. From far away the street almost looked identical to the flagstones of the mundane world they had left behind, but looking at his feet, it was simply a melted smudge of dull colored paints. There were no walls. No sky. Only the deepening dark. Far, far in the distance where the furthest reaches of his squinted vision could reach, the rough 'bump' of a structure sat waiting upon the horizon. There was no meaningful order to the march. It was a humbled column of beasts, where even the lowliest of pitiful slithering slimes moved forward next to a burning archon of collapsed light, silent and solemn.  [Miryks: Perception - Success] 

The shadowy man did not understand much of the things they referenced. He had never heard of any reference to a 'black 'march', let alone a march of living nightmares. He felt that a 'supplicant' was related to the rebirth that Saint Rothe had mentioned, as they ventured forth for freedom and so that the 'candles' of the lesser dreams could be born again. It was difficult for him to contextualize any more beyond that without making some assumptions or taking some artistic liberties, pretending to think he knew more than he did. He had also never heard of any 'Nightmare King'.  That wasn't a thing.  Not even in fictitious stories, at least the published ones. Miryks was sure a great deal of the monsters walking with him were horrible things men had dreamt and never spoken of again. Anything was fair game here. Perhaps the Nightmare King was something someone scribbled away about in their own private journals, but how would he know that? He made a mental note to himself on the unexplored merits of stealing personal books and dream journals... While he had no idea of the other 'Kings' either, he could somewhat recall an entry taken from the Faustian Codex regarding 'Otherworlds'. Professor Faust detailed a proposed series of 'universes', or perhaps 'multiverses' of structured existence which stood completely isolated and separate from the established cosmology of the Inner and Outer Spheres of their own universe and the countless planes spanning the Worldscape and beyond. It was a notion which would have painted Professor Faust as a crackpot, or at least a man who had given too much attention to fringe theories and pseudo-science, but he work was considered one of the Paradox Codices, so it carried with it some weight. He only wished he had taken what little he'd read more seriously. Despite the confusing subject matter, he was certain the 'children of the dream', were in fact, themselves. The Nightmares, or whatever creatures they had become. Miryks was almost baffled at himself with the amount of brain power he was dedicating to things which were impossible to know, in a fictitious world literally imagined by a child. At this point, he would have been better off just asking. At the very least, the host did not appear reluctant to answer him.  [Miryks: Knowledge Check - Partial] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (8,740xp)  
 □ (+85xp)
□ (+65xp) | Spirits  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ DREAMS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ CELEBRATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※REALITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※BLACK ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※DIVINITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FORBIDDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
 

     
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
L’Chandal, The Crucible
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 9:56 AM  
  "I don't believe they've ever...  eaten  before."   E'Dene's face looked more curious by the whole exchange than anything else. As if the thought of actually preparing food to place in your mouth and chew it was something of a novel idea.   "I' doubt they will have any interest in household fare, but I might venture to try it. I do find the rituals of mortals quite interesting."   Erik understood then, just how large the gap was between them. It was a vast chasm which could not be traversed in a day, or a year. After all, how could you empathize with another's pain or even their reasoning if you could not even grasp the simple concept of  hunger.  But perhaps this was it. The simple olive branch, the first step towards humans and god-kin understanding one another, over a bowl of mediocre stew. The woman didn't speak again, as her attention was drawn elsewhere -  perhaps somewhere far away. 

Erik went about his preparations, the magical stones produced controlled heat allowing him to finish his dish quickly. As the minutes passed the Witch suddenly blurted out a response,   "Yes, there are other things like that."   At times it felt like his host were experiencing life at another speed than he was, be it fast or slow. Perhaps they were experiencing many things and not merely trapped in here with him at all. It was a frightening thought, to be capable of being in two places at once.   "Any Children of the Houses, like Cas'Haphel, can remove you from a Passage. She has many siblings. Though, I suppose that would extend to most denizens of the Third World. It is expected that they will not meddle needlessly, except as it pertains to their House or the duties they've been given. You might be a Lord, but you would do well to remember that and pay due respects to your betters."   The Witch grabbed a fine wooden ladle, it was finely crafted of highly polished ironwood and felt like it had a glassy satin finish in hand. Erik could only wonder what skillful maker had spent the time to carve the exceptional tool.

  "Of course... In that regard, we are not that different. Kathe is not of the Third World either."   She dipped the ladle in the stew and retrieved a large spoonful of the stew. It was still lightly steaming, but she imbibed the scalding porridge regardless. Slowly she moved the contents from side to side, swirling it around in her mouth. Lightly chewing once, twice, then pausing. Some of the fluid was seeping from the side of her mouth. After a moment she placed her hands to her face and spit the contents out into - what Erik assumed, was a dimensional hole, as the black recess behind her hands fully disposed of the masticated sludge. Like a scientist who had just completed an experiment, she smiled brightly,   "My, how...  educational.  I can see why mortals like this. How fun."   E'Dene evidently did not understand the part where you  swallowed  the food, but it was a start.  [Erik: Sense Motive - Failure] 

Erik didn't know anything meaningful about Caus'Haphel, N'Tallos or the Second World, other than what bits he'd been told from the Librarian. N'Tallos was apparently another world, or perhaps another universe unto itself. A 'mortal world' which he likely would have ventured to gather fragments to fuel Ashurbanipal. As to the nature of said world, he had no idea. Apparently it was the world he had seen in his most recent venture, but his mind could not even begin to comprehend that level of technology or ruin. The sky was poisoned and the air burned to the touch. He doubted the entire world was in the same state, but parts of it were certainly terrible. Though it had been years, on Golarion the works of Professor Faust did mention various theories regarding 'otherworlds', but he was not exceptionally studied on the matter. He did know that the writings did cause quite a stir, but he himself had not had time to request a copy of the records to review, or visit the Greenwold Conservatoire, nor had he ever meant to. Interpreting research and findings was the job of a Surveyor, he was merely the sword which cleansed Tainted Lands. Perhaps he should have put more of his focus elsewhere, but it was too late for regrets now. Very little he knew would prove useful here, but he knew of one who held the answers to his questions. After all he had experienced he merely hesitated to beseech those things beyond his comprehension. At least, that's what he wanted to believe. He feared the harrowing price which might be reaped by the divine abstract.  [Erik: Knowledge - Failure] 

There was only one thing which the Lord of Passages was certain of. Had his will faulted for even a moment, he would have been crushed beneath the burdens of his own heart. Like a curse, every weakness, every hesitation and regret would have piled up upon him. Crushing him utterly. It might not have been immediate. Perhaps hours, or days, but he would certainly have been left a slavering pathetic fool, enslaved by his own fears and desires without a spine or will of his own. A broken man eaten alive by his own torments until those demons had left him nothing more than a hallow shell. It was like the prongs of a viper's fangs. A subtle and delicate curse which could only cripple the most resolute of men, that their own past might rust and erode their very convictions. It was a sinister and invisible dagger. Truly he would have been left broken and wilting, begging for death without the resolve to finish it himself. It was unlike any hex he'd ever experienced, a magic distilled and magnified by a hexcrafter of unfathomable skill and deep-seeded resentment, to unravel the very mind, sanity and resolve of the accursed. It was a baleful magic, but one half-heartedly employed.  [Erik: Magic Sense - Success] 
    He twitched.  He felt it before any of them. The distant light of another reality being snuffed out. The realization evidently found its way to E'Dene as well as she grabbed him by the neck, in an abrupt gesture, the two other Justices blinked into reality, pressing their wands into either side of his face, pressing the tips of the weapons into his cheeks.    "What did you did..."      "L'Chandal is gone."   There was a tense pause as a sudden flicker of sparkling white light flowed down into the realm and sharply snapped towards Erik, entering his chest and filling him with a flowing warmth that he could have mistaken for urinating on himself; though, completely unrelated to his current circumstances. Esk'Jola and Se'Jaine's eyes narrowed maliciously, as if they'd just caught him red-handed.   "It was not him. I was here. Kill him if you like. But he did not destroy it."   The Witch released her firm grip on his throat, it felt like solid iron melting from around his neck.  [ Ashurbanipal Trait - Reclaim Reality-Fragments I  - Realms and Passages which are destroyed or are made completely inaccessible to him refund a random percent of their cost to unlock or join to Ashurbanipal (whichever is higher). These realms need not be owned by the Lord of Passages. The Lord must be within the same World Line as the fallen Passage to receive this refund, and does not benefit for any realms destroyed within his opposing Inverse.]  

Esk'Jola's attention seemed to be drawn somewhere else. Se'Jaine's eyes similarly glazed over for the briefest of moments before they both retracted their wands.    "Adessa has returned."      "The House put their attention on the student, but forgot the master."      "Unpredictable. Far more dangerous... I would have preferred she stayed, wherever it was she went. Perhaps they had forgotten how destructive she is."      "I believe the Justice of Black simply had her hands full with the Black Magister. There was no use worrying when the Whispering Witch might return, if ever... So what will you do with  him. "   Her words were gestured towards Erik now. The mature Witch took a moment to contemplate.    "...I don't believe it's possible for the Keeper to be defeated in any meaningful way, but our work is for naught if half the Second World is removed from existence..."      "You mean to say, our efforts should be aligned with the Mados to protect the interests of Kathe."      "Yes... There's no point in any of this if it all lay in ruin..."    E'Dene huffed frustratingly,   "You would falter now? You did not compromise when the Children of the Blessed Mother fought their needless battles."     "That was different, sister."      "Astrok'Ru is a plotting coward, and Nelrin'fel is a pompous stooge, inflated by delusions of self importance. They posed no threat to Kathe. These circumstances are not the same. It is not just Adessa. It is the Zin-Lath'rah as well. Very little can oppose such a force if it were turned upon anything throughout the Three Worlds. We must be shrewd. Do not let your personal interests detract from your duty."     [Erik - Fragments Collected +2335] 

Esk'Jola's attention shifted towards him. An occurrence which he'd rarely experienced.    "Now, as circumstances have changed. I believe it is time we spoke."   
 
 Spoiler: Introduction: World Lines 
Similar but more profound than a Divergence. A World Line represents a set of all Fates currently accessible in the game for characters. When the World Line is changed, these Fates may be randomly exchanged, or reset - partially, or fully. Any events and circumstances related to the related Fates in the new World Line are changed accordingly. This may alter events, history, magic accessibility (especially as it relates to spellweaving), availability of quests and even the time left before the Primeval Dark ends the game. World Lines represent an immense power critical to defeating the impossible foes from beyond reality, but pose an unfathomable risk to unprepared players. World Lines should not be tinkered with until there are players who are, at a minimum, filling the Lord of Passages, Fateweaver, Oculus, Memoria and Alucinor campaign roles. Harnessing the power of World Lines will largely remain beyond the ability of players until sufficient progression is made to access these cosmic forces.
 

 
 Spoiler: Introduction: The Inverse 
There exists a similar, near-identical reality to the one which you know. This reflection is called the Inverse. Campaign progression and effects only impact one side of the Inverse at a time. For example, if you were to progress to the final chapter of the campaign, then be moved into the Inverse where no progress was made, you would begin play during the Prologue to the End. If player characters exist in opposing sides of the Inverse, they can continue to progress the story at their own rate on their respective sides of reality. For more details regarding the Inverse, continue to progress through the campaign.
 

 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (69,365xp)     [⮯ Abstract -3,450]     ⮸  (+65xp) 
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
⬖  Blue crystal with quicksilver veins
⬖  Black glass fragment 
  ⭍  Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight   
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SECRETS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ CAUTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DEATH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ CURSE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DESTINY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※REALITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※BLACK ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※VOID ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ DESTRUCTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※COURAGE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※BRAVERY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ OTHERWORLD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SALVATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ ANNIHILATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※PENANCE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ASTRAY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※SEALS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ WORLDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※CORRUPTION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※SLAIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※DIVERGED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WONDER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
 

     
Mornings
     
There was an uncomfortable pause. The great celestial beast seemed to squint, lowing its head with a tilt as if trying to understand what it was looking at.     "You, child. Should not be here..."     Its gaze drifted off to the cosmos.     "Though, this time, it appears this was not your doing... I told you to call upon me in the Dream. It is still too early for you to come to this place."    

It had been a long time, even before she had fallen into the Inverse. Stella could not even be sure if the events prior to her crossing had even taken place in the same way she had recalled within the other side of reality. The D'Inlé, named  Ulbeelta, Who Walked The Night Still , was a being of impossible size and power whose very being spanned stellar gas clouds and entire universes. His fur was a coat of a billion stars, and his being was raw astral light. In her memories, she had run afoul with the wolf after tampering with forbidden knowledge and allowing impossible entities into her own reality. It was there she had first met Ulbeelta's brother, Afsppa'sol. It had been his responsibility to correct the corruption and discipline the witch to not abuse this power, but he instead encouraged her to meddle further in ways which suited him. Afterwards she had continued to carelessly exploit her powers forcing Ulbeelta to intervene. He issued her a warning, teaching her not to speak the names of otherworld beings nor abuse her forbidden powers, or he would be forced to destroy her utterly. Ulbeelta had offered to answer her questions if she summoned him within her dreams, but she never had the chance. The warning had come late, as her powers subsequently destroyed her physical body, leaving her shattered and broken. With no means to mend the Spite she had accumulated, she was left as nothing more than a broken husk. In an effort to see herself whole, Stella struck a deal with the Sczarni Crimelord, Affri Rello. After coming to terms, Affri offered the services of her contact Sister Abygael to heal her wounds. Due to the unnatural nature of her wounds it was realized that nothing in their world was capable of making Stella whole. Sister Abygael, bound by her duty to repay her favor to Rello took Stella with her away from her companions. There she revealed that she was not a mortal of their world, but a being known as  Ahyga'Lastal, She Who Scarred The Valley.  To see her mended, she took her away into the Second World where she would inevitably be healed... but it would set events into motion which would forever plague her life. In a way, Ulbeelta's words were the only plain warning she'd ever received, and one she wished had come sooner - though the lesson was learned.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Success] 
    "So it seems you have learned.  Do not speak my name.  That you may do so, when you've the strength to bear the weight of stars. Now speak, then be on your way."     There was a vast difference between the muddled thoughts of her mind, and the collective knowledge which flowed through her. Adessa was not speaking of the Lady Black. She understood now, that was the furthest thing from the truth. In fact, Adessa likely viewed her with great hatred and resentment, like a slave who had forgotten their place in the social hierarchy. The Lady was the most senior representative of the House of Black, and she did not recognize the legitimacy of their institution. To her, they were merely beings in service to the Mados who had betrayed the trust which they'd been given, and that was the point of contention between Adessa and the Keeper, B'Belka. Of the Three Traditions of the Vet'cnros, the faith in the Mados was the smallest. But Adessa was one of the most dangerous beings haunting the lower worlds, and she alone was enough to grant their tradition weighty relevance. Most of her past-life memories were gone now, but even still, she could recall being a devout follower of the Mados herself -  in another life.   [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Success] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 3/6 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮟  Spite : 1 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
 ⮯  Corrupted Fate  (Ra'Dolfaal)  
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (217,565xp)  (⮸ +65) 
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※SOVEREIGNTY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※NOBILITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ DISCOVERY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※VEIL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※EVIL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ CURSE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ MEMORY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WORLDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ FAITH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※APPRENTICE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ DREAMS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ANCESTORS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ORIGIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※DIVINITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※LEGENDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ PAST-LIFE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REINCARNATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
forg99rules
 
 
Stella took pride in the fact that she had remembered not to say Ulbeelta's name, though it would probably have been obvious to most.   "Yes, I have learned from that experience, and it wasn't a pleasant one, but it taught me a valuable lesson. I won't be making that mistake again."   she reflected. Stella's mind wandered as she tried to recall the questions she had for Ulbeelta, realizing there were too many and understanding that Ulbeelta might not answer them all.   "Well, I guess I ended up here due to Adessa's wishes or maybe it was just random after what she did. I am just trying to regain my power with whatever means I can while trying to get training on how to wield this power properly. Yet I keep ending up all over the place without even trying. Now I am something called a Prime Aspect, Which I have no idea what that is, so I have no idea what to do with it."   Sighing to herself, Stella looks up at the great being   "Sorry for venting a bit to you, if there is any assistance you could provide me or knowledge that could be imparted I would be grateful. Though I know I had a question initially I honestly can't even remember what it was anymore"    
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


GAH its so annoying getting shunted around all the time lol

Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 20 ]  - Trying to figure out where I might be.
Sense Motive:  (1d20+10)[ 27 ]  - Trying to get a sense of Ulbeelta and his disposition towards me and what help I may receive.
 
Mornings
     
    "Perhaps it is not that you have forgotten, but rather you were not allowed to remember. I am not a creature bound to the whims of your reality. The same cannot be said for you."     Stella hadn't really considered that. Even when she had returned to Duvan, Lapalila had no memories of most of their recent experiences together. History had been replaced with another series of events. Though as such a powerful Witch, she was not unsettled by Stella's alleged crossing into the Inverse. After all, it was a thing which was imperceptible. She was perhaps the only mortal being with awareness of it, and her respective place within it. Ulbeelta's words were evidently true. For if he was also bound to the other-side of 'the real', he likely would not have remembered her, or at the very least their encounter would have been different. Perhaps she had also lost something precious, something formless when she was thrown into this 'other face' of existence.

The great wolf seemed indifferent towards Stella, though her presence was certainly unexpected. Their previous encounter had not been a personal endeavor, and he did not appear to hold any lingering feelings towards it. Be that as it may, she couldn't be certain just how useful the D'Inlé would be, after all, she had failed to call upon him properly since last they met. She had no way of knowing just what grand laws such a cosmic being was beholden too, or the mind of a beast fashioned from the very stars.  [Stella: Sense Motive - Success] 

Stella had been somewhat fond of fairytales and legends, but even she was not exceptionally well-versed in the more esoteric teachings of the Veil Cults and Ros'wussrun cosmology. On a good day she was not familiar with the realm of L'Chandal. She was certain she was still in L'Chandal, but its prime material form had been unmade by Adessa's ungodly Severance curse. A World Veil, which simply unraveled its very being. With what little she remembered from her basic magic lessons, every plane possessed a minimum of six existential phases - iterations of the various layers which comprised their whole.  Those were the words at least...  But she was bereft of any meaningful context without Alicia's mind.  She was still in L'Chandel,  based on the darkness and stars, this was  the Crucible.  For the Vet'cnros of the Black, it was similar to a forge with which they could smith their most powerful veil-spells... But she had no way of knowing just  how far down  she'd fallen in the proverbial  'stack'  of existential phases. At the very least, she assumed it couldn't have been that far... After all,  she was still alive.  It was like diving very deep in the ocean. Eventually the pressure would crush you, and if you fell too quickly, you'd simply 'pop', obliterated from existence.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Partial] 
    "So it would seem... but I do not think she would have meant to place you this deep."     A sudden sinking feeling begun to well up in Stella's stomach upon hearing the great wolf's words.     "Perhaps the Council was so preoccupied with you, they forgot what it was like to be terrorized by your master. No other answer might explain this carelessness and the fate of L'Chandal... As far as your 'powers' are concerned.  They were mostly borrowed from the Elghin'Mados.  Perhaps none who knew you thought to mention something so, rudimentary. Or perhaps they'd reason to see you turned towards another path. Adessa Allessa trained you in her tradition. Of course your power would stem from the same source.  Your  magic, the force you personally control, has not been lessened in any meaningful way.  Only your faith.  Adessa is a zealot. Yet, that is the well from which her might is drawn. The deeper the faith, the greater the blessing. Surely, even you know of this."     Stella was dumbfounded. Of course she knew of divine casting, but she had not known her past-life magics were divine in nature, nor had she any reason to believe as much. The realization had almost made her wince, finally understanding her master's outrage at her proposition. The entire weight of her worldly powers were tied to the same divine being she had casually spurned as an afterthought. She wondered, just how many of her enemies within Duvan knew this. Intentionally leading her away from her previous path, keeping her under their thumb and removing her as a threat. The further she had drifted from this strange god, the further she had drifted from her might in a world now forgotten.

Ulbeelta seemed to take note of Stella's sudden realization.     "...You didn't know. How unfortunate."     His last words seemed to hang in the infinite expanse of space for a painfully long time.     "Much of your misery, and the misery your actions have wrought could have been avoided knowing this. I suppose this explains your recklessness, even absent of your master. You will forever be left to wander, alone, without hope until you commit yourself to a Tradition. Your kith and kin, Vet'cnros hold three, and though I hold an accord with your kind, I favor none of your people's cultures. You could just as well abandon each of them and seek another. The Sunjatha'la and Ros'wussrun possess their own traditions as well, though earning your place among their kind might prove challenging, but attainable."     Right now, Stella wished she still had Alicia to remind her of the Casting Traditions of Duvan. It was too... scholastic, for her mind to recall. But Ulbeelta was right, everything started and ended with the Traditions. Though she was of another race, it was not unheard of for some Witches to seek admittance into the Casting Tradition of another race.     "You cannot be taught. You cannot learn, and you cannot survive navigating the Second World if you lack what even children possess. You must decide which tradition you will follow. Only then can you cease these wanderings throughout the world, and navigate the Passages properly."    
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 3/6 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮟  Spite : 1 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
 ⮯  Corrupted Fate  (Ra'Dolfaal)  
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (217,750xp)   (⮸ +30),   (⮸ +55) - Casting Traditions,   (⮸ +100) - Past-Life Magic  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※SOVEREIGNTY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※NOBILITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ DISCOVERY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※VEIL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※EVIL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ CURSE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ MEMORY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WORLDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ FAITH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DREAMS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ANCESTORS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ORIGIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DIVINITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※LEGENDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ PAST-LIFE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REINCARNATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
forg99rules
 
 Stella experienced a twinge of embarrassment when she realized how her previous powers had functioned. This feeling quickly transformed into hatred as she understood that others had intentionally or unintentionally kept this information from her. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Stella allowed her mind to wander, sifting through various memories as she tried to determine the best course of action. The option of appeasing the Scion of Dark Seasons... or Milk was almost off the table, given the trouble she had caused with them. Though it could be mended, who knew how long that would take? The House of Black hadn't bothered to inform her about her powers either, despite knowing that she lacked a proper understanding of them. Thus, it was not a suitable choice either. The Mados tradition consistently held the forefront of her thoughts, considering that Adessa had been her teacher, and she still regarded her as such. Ultimately, it was a fairly straightforward decision, even though she wasn't certain of its potential repercussions in the long run.

  "This has been very enlightening. So, I need to pick a Tradition... hmmm... I don't think I will bother with The Sunjatha'la and Ros'wussrun Traditions I feel like I tried to get a teacher for something like that and it bit me in the butt. I am, of course, a Vet'cnros and a Student of Adessa first and foremost. Since others likely chose to withhold this knowledge from me, I will return to my roots and serve the Mados once more. However, before I take my leave, I do have a couple of other questions that I hope you may be able to answer."  

Stella remembered a significant issue that she had no idea how to address. Also, she was curious about another facet of her situation.   "Would you happen to know how I can fix my Corrupted Fate? I don't fully understand the situation regarding it or what can be done to remedy it, but I fear it may cause even more issues."  

As she considered her next question, Stella realized that it might not apply to Ulbeelta, but it was essential to her.   "How would I be able to return to my original reality? I understand that I am in the Inverse, and the situation does not affect or apply to you, but it would be helpful to understand how one might move between the two."   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 

**** it back to my roots LOL

Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 28 ]  OR  (1d20+12)[ 14 ]  - Trying to remember how to get back into the Mados Tradition, like what needs done to really "Accept" it
(Just remembered I get to roll twice and take the highest lol)

Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 32 ]  OR  (1d20+12)[ 31 ]  - Trying to figure out how I would take my leave being a mortal and all that fun stuff... assume Ulbeelta might just send me off lol
 
Mornings
     
Stella could feel the focus and calm of her mind return. A connection with the collective wisdom of the ancestors established once again. Though in the past she had very little experience in the way of joining the Veil Cults of the Mados, she could recall the theoretical way to go about doing so. Adessa had practically raised her in the tradition, so it had been the only thing she had known. To those born outside the tradition, the Witch would need to seek out a faithful servant of the Mados and offer her oaths at a shrine of the Cult. If it was accepted, she would be allowed to join the Sacred Coven of Black. The Sacred Coven was the organization which presided over all of the Veil Cults of the Mados, which were smaller independent groups of eclectic Witches who mostly were isolated in their own lives and practices. Adessa was the supreme authority and held the title of Black Hexe. It was not a rank recognized in Duvan, but held the authority as the Hexen herself within the Veil Cults. There, she was worshipped as a near god-like being who was the voice of the Mados in the lower worlds. To make an offering would require fragments of life-essence. A resource harvested from living intelligent beings.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Success] 

There were numerous spells and powerful abilities which could bend the realms and fold reality. With sufficient aptitude and mental strength, even the power of spell focus was capable of pulling a powerful caster out of a plane. There were even veils capable of similar or more dramatic effects. If she had her wand, she might even be able to manage such a feat, though it would have likely been incredibly costly. Unfortunately, she was lacking in all of those things presently. There was very little she could do without seeking a nuclear options... like using the names of powerful beings and hoping she didn't cause any lasting, permanent damage; or expending her own memories for a fragment of her former power, but thereby destroying herself in the process. While Stella did not fully understand the ancestor's warnings, she knew that depleting her memory was a manner of harm which lessened the very ego and unraveled the echo's of her life-essence, casting the pieces of herself and the Fates bound to them unto the Midnight Between. A loss which could never be undone.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Partial] 
    "A Fate corrupted is not so easily mended. Any being beyond the Inverse might set it right, but it is not an intervention which should be made lightly. It is forbidden to interfere so grandly with the supplicants of another. If you would follow the Mados. The Mados must fix it. Though you will need to make a grand offering. Do not let that idle for longer than you must. Such things have a malicious, often ruinous purpose. The beings which guard the Passages, enforce balance and guide the spirits are restless and wild without a Lord. Given enough time, they might seduce a Fate, leading it astray and towards some calamitous end. Such Fates have betrayed the Garden and must be set right. In the most favorable case, only you might be destroyed, but the results are likely far more expansive and egregious. You will not be able to return to your side of the Inverse while you carry a Corrupted Fate. Best to be rid of it quickly."    
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 3/6 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮟  Spite : 1 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
 ⮯  Corrupted Fate  (Ra'Dolfaal)  
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (217,800xp)   (⮸ +15),   (⮸ +10) - Casting Traditions,   (⮸ +25) - Travel  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※SOVEREIGNTY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※NOBILITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ DISCOVERY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※VEIL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※EVIL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ CURSE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※ MEMORY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WORLDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ FATE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ FAITH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DREAMS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ ANCESTORS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ORIGIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※DIVINITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※LEGENDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ PAST-LIFE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REINCARNATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
forg99rules
 
 Feeling the link established with her ancestors was interesting, she turned her attention briefly to it as well tried to think of ways that she could use it in her current state. Another sigh escaped Stellas lips,   "Well then sounds like I need to find a Grand Offering sooner rather than later..."   Turning her mind to Ulbeelta's words made Stella wonder exactly how Grand of an Offering she would need to make for the Mados to get rid of her corrupted fate.   "Your assistance and knowledge has been most appreciated, if I ever have a chance to return the favor I most certainly will. I believe though that it is best that I get going for now."   Taking a look around and thinking for a second time,   "You wouldn't happen to be able to send me over to Adessa or somewhere that I might be able to work on that Grand offering, would you? The only way I can think to leave this place would be very destructive or detrimental as it would most likely involve going against the knowledge you have previously imparted to me, and I rather like living and not causing any problems for you."   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 14 ]  OR  (1d20+12)[ 26 ]  - Trying to figure out if there is a way to use the link or what it means
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 25 ]  OR  (1d20+12)[ 25 ]  - Since the Mados wants life essence I am trying to figure out how much might be needed to be considered GRAND lol
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 27 ]  OR  (1d20+12)[ 18 ]  - Looking for information regarding Passages, not sure if I've done this before
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 22 ]  OR  (1d20+12)[ 31 ]  - Looking for information regarding Fates
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 22 ]  OR  (1d20+12)[ 22 ]  - Looking for information on what exactly he means by Lords in regards to Passages
 
Stevesciguy
   

Erik nodded to himself as the Witch confirmed that there was more than one being out there who could eject him from a Passage, stopping when she mentioned "his betters." Erik still knew nothing about his place in the scheme of things in his new position. As grand as the title "Lord of Ashurbanipal" sounded, he seemed to be a little fish in a very, very large pond. Perhaps the fish could grow, but when and how? The man who could answer that was banished off to wherever the rest of Ashurbanipal was.

It didn't surprise Erik that the Witches had never eaten before. What  did  surprise him was that the concept was so foreign to them that E'Dene casually spit the food up as if that was the intent. He briefly wondered if she'd never met a mortal before dismissing the idea. Likely she had, though maybe never under circumstances where the topic of food would ever come up.

He tried to square the image of a young woman gently sipping stew in front of him with the utter  malice  of the spell she'd just attempted on him. Of course, appearance meant nothing even on Golarion, much less here. He'd met men built like himself completely lacking spine, and in Willowbrook he'd watched a girl barely more than a child damn near split reality in half attempting to slow a monster born from nightmares. Still, the juxtaposition was disturbing. He could only imagine that if their capacity for magic was so incomprehensible, so too was their capacity for hate.

Erik had virtually no time to react in the moments between...  whatever it was  he'd just felt and being at the business end of the wands of two beings who could do much worse than simply kill him. It struck him as odd that E'Dene vouched for him - he wasn't arrogant enough to believe that a single bite of stew was enough to change her mind - but nonetheless he felt a small amount of relief that she hadn't decided to take her chance to get rid of him. He rubbed his throat with one hand as the Witches had their rapid fire conversation, throwing names and titles he didn't, couldn't recognize.

The fragments of memories that weren't his still flickered around the periphery of his conciousness, tempting him with the prospect of plucking knowledge from out of thin air. He pushed them aside as best he could. He knew where they came from - and even the Primarch herself has warned him against reaching into those memories too much. He needed to know more about it before he started allowing those little flashes of insight back into his head.

There was one name he recognized.  Adessa.  The Witch who had appeared in the stasis. Beyond that, he knew little, other than the Librarian didn't seem fond of her.

Erik nodded as Esk'Jola addressed him. He understood her far less than the other two. E'Dene wanted him dead, plain and simple. Se'Jaine had wanted him alive, imprisoned, though he couldn't fathom what use a man in a cage could serve. But Esk'Jola had wanted him  trained , and far more than the training itself, what she wanted him trained  for  concerned him. Finally, now, he may find out if he was lucky. But more immediate matters took precedence.

Looking at Esk'Jola - or the brim of her hat, as the case may be - he spoke.

"  What are the circumstances? I felt something... vanish. Die. Was that light from there?  "

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Might as well make some sense motive rolls, can't hurt(right? 😦)

Just generally on what they seem to be thinking right now

Sense Motive E'Dene:  (1d20+12)[ 13 ] 

Sense Motive Se'Jaine:  (1d20+12)[ 30 ] 

Sense Motive Esk'Jola:  (1d20+12)[ 14 ] 

After feeling that, Erik wants to see if he can feel any more about what just happened(rolled in ooc thread): (1d20+12)[ 13 ]

Used a reroll on the perception roll, also in ooc. Result copied here for convenience
Reroll: (1d20+12)[ 23 ]
 
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
L’Chandal, The Crucible
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 10:06 AM  
  "Ashurbanipal is a parasite, leeching off the corpse of dying worlds."     "That is why he must be imprisoned."     "That is why he must be dead."      "Enough!"    Esk'Jola raised her hand to silence the bickering sisters, before gesturing Erik back to the dinning hall where he found a seat at the table. The disagreement between them was a difference in opinion which ran deep, still the oldest Justice maintained control of the situation. Erik begun to understand from E'Dene's emotional display that her resentment wasn't necessarily directed at himself, but the Great Library itself. He was merely standing in the middle of those bitter feelings. Se'Jaine's priority seemed to lean more towards containing him personally, as if that would somehow better control the threat. Esk'Jola on the other hand remained difficult to gauge.  [Erik: Sense Motive - Partial] 

Inside his heart, he could feel something turning within. A warm coiling gust of heat and fire. It was an untapped energy, a force sapped from some elemental world far away. Glimpses. Small flashes of something rolled around in the back of his mind. It was like loose copper coins rattling around in a jar. Clanging, Sounding some raucous plea to not be forgotten. Then there was a howl. A burning cacophony. A man with hard rough-cut eyes that gleamed in sunset. A young girl, deathly pale, with eyes like stubbornness and struggle. Then there was a white blade. An empty rocking chair. An abandoned house. A wilting black. A terrible fire and melting iron cells... He remembered those cells, and that terrible red light.  The fires of Willowbrook.   [Erik: Perception - Failure] 

He steadied himself as he found his place in his seat, a great burden now weighing down upon him.    "Regardless of the circumstance. It is true. Ashurbanipal poses a great threat to many worlds. However,  killing you , would not stop the key from emerging again somewhere else in the worlds."    The remark seemed as if it were aimed more at someone else.    "...There are ways to deal with that."    The senior Justice waved her hand dismissively.    "Tsk."    The Witch clicked her tongue and walked away.    "It is more productive if the powers of the Library could be exercised,  responsibly.  But you cannot be trusted with that responsibility while you little more than a feral beast..."    The seasoned warrior had a feeling that her comment wasn't just aimed at his lack of knowledge. Perhaps such beings viewed all mortals as one might see a dog or other domesticated animal. A  'feral'  beast was not useful, but a  'house-trained'  animal was different. It could find a place within a home and become part of the proverbial 'family',  albeit still an animal.  It was an insightful analogy.

   "As the circumstances have changed, I offer you four choices..."    He hadn't been expecting that many, but it potentially gave him more to work with.    " Option one.  Relinquish your right to the Passage of Kathe unto me. Then perhaps we may speak more of the future."    Erik didn't fully understand the significance of those words, but he could assume by all of their previous ramblings, that this was ultimately their greatest concern as Esk'Jola seemed to prioritize the interests of her realm above all else.    " Option two...  Die."    E'Dene seemed to whip around in the distance, eavesdropping on the exchange.    "As the Key Bearer to the Betwixt, the proposed value of merely killing you and taking the Key is undeniable. It is easy to understand how one might ransom the Key, or utilize it as leverage against the forces of the Mados, or to merely to curry favor with the Mados itself. It is a lucrative certainty, while your own value remains...  An uncertainty. "   

Erik could feel a dampness bead on his brow, but his features remained placid, betraying none of the alarm he could feel welling up inside. It was a terrible revelation. If he could simply be murdered and robbed for such an unfathomably powerful artifact, he was no better than a walking piñata covered in steel. He could not even imagine just what number of unspeakable things might also be attracted to the burden he carried. How many cataclysmic plots would be puppeted afar by some slew of nameless god-things all seeking on his death. Even those beings before him could not dismiss the appeal...  He was going to need a bigger sword. 
   " Option three.  Make amends. Do whatever you can within your power to set things right with the Mados. Earn its favor, and the favor of those loyal to it. Right now you are a liability to any who might deign to aid you. Few with the power to make a difference could afford to stand as your ally, least their worlds be destroyed utterly. None, save for individuals absent anything to lose, can afford to lend you aid. That means very little against such a force. Remedy this and you may yet prove you are an asset, not a hazard. It will not be easy or quick, but it is always slower to build than it is to destroy."    The grizzled man hadn't thought it possible to 'make amends' with whatever beings he'd angered with his foolishness. Though he took note that even this was not being proposed as a 'solution', but a way forward.

   " Option four.  The last option. Remain here. Our prisoner.  A slave to Kathe.  The Lord of Passages still holds some uses, even in his infancy. When you are too useless, dangerous, or when it is in the best interest of our people, you will be thrown to the hounds which pursue you, or killed, if such holds greater merit. If you will not be an ally to the Second World, you will be its resource instead."    In a way he could appreciate the harsh frankness. He'd prefer the cards were on table, rather than all of the convoluted games of cat-and-mouse. Of course, they could not lie to him directly, but the Justice didn't have to be so flagrant either.    "Currently, these are your options. Now choose."   
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (69,540xp)     [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦  ⮸  (+60xp)  ¦  ⮸ (+85xp) - Fragment Memories  ¦  ⮸ (+30xp) - Motives  
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
⬖  Blue crystal with quicksilver veins
⬖  Black glass fragment 
  ⭍  Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight   
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SECRETS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ CAUTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DEATH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※DESTINY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※REALITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※BLACK ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※VOID ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※DESTRUCTION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※COURAGE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※BRAVERY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※OTHERWORLD ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※SALVATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ANNIHILATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ PENANCE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ASTRAY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※SEALS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※CORRUPTION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※SLAIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※DIVERGED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WONDER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ MOTIVES  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KEY-BEARER  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
Stevesciguy
   
 Ashurbanipal posed a threat.  In the short time Erik had had with him, the Librarian spoke of Ashurbanipal as if it were simply one Passage among many. Was every Passage a threat? If the key he'd found belonged to any other Passage, would he be here now? Or was Ashurbanipal unique?

In the stasis, the Surveyor, Sparrow, had called the twisted version of Willowbrook they'd woken up in a prison. Was Ashurbanipal itself the prisoner?

Erik listened intently as Esk'Jola listed off his options. Relinquish. Die. Rebuild. Imprisonment. Two of those were already advocated for by the other Justices. And yet here he was...

Erik wasn't sure whether what he was about to do was stupid or brilliant. It took a strange kind of man to question what may as well have been a god compared to someone like him.

But he'd survived it the first time.

"  I have one question to ask, if you'll allow me, before I choose. Just one.  "

Erik leaned forward in his seat. He couldn't really look into the eyes of the Witch, with the brim of her cap in the way, but he looked at the point on her brim where they would've been. He doubted that her cap impeded  her  vision in any meaningful way.

"  One of your companions has advocated for my death since you first arrived. The other, my imprisonment. If you had agreed with either course of action, you'd have executed me, or left me to rot here, to be forgotten or worse. Instead you chose to train me. I've been thrown from world to world, in the last few months I've seen more than most archmages from my reality would see in their lifetime.  "

One last, singular word fell out of Erik's mouth like a brick. The word that had been ricocheting off the inside of his skull for the last three years.

"  Why?  "

 
 Spoiler: OoC 
More sense motive checks wooo
E'Dene:  (1d20+12)[ 28 ] 

Se'Jaine:  (1d20+12)[ 30 ] 

Esk'Jola:  (1d20+12)[ 13 ] 
 
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

It wasn't just the Dohl'Denka. The wolf and Saint Rothe each took their own turns answering his thoughts. Miryks let their voices cascade over him as he took in their wisdom. Even here, in this place, certain truths of the world peeked through. The strong watched out for the weak. If nothing else, it was one thing that made sense. What was difficult to wrap his mind around was  why . Why they seemed willing to help a supplicant such as himself, especially considering the Dohl'Denka's recent words.   'Supplicants must walk.'   Initially it seemed like this was simply a typical hierarchy thing, but now he wasn't so sure.   These creatures could well enough leave me to my own devices, stumbling forward as a lemming would.   He wasn't a foot soldier, being made to walk while his Captain sat astride a horse.

Miryks took a moment to focus on the creatures around him, both big and small.  [Sense Lesser Nightmare Spirits]  He clearly wasn't the strongest, but neither was he the weakest. There was an entire ecosystem of Spirits here, from the first sparks of life to the last flickers of dying embers. There was no grumbling, no infighting that he could detect. Any other host of this size would invariably have conflict within its ranks. Was it respect? Fear? He couldn't quite put his finger on it but his mind strove to understand. Clarity of purpose, a united goal?   That would be something to join all of these individuals together, a shared desire. Is it strong enough to override more selfish thoughts and goals?  
 "Do we march to war, against the Nightmare King?"  Miryks allowed the question hang in the air for a moment, allowing his wings to beat for half a moment while keeping his feet on the ground.  "I can feel the changes and strength that have become a part of me by the Rite. The March has rewarded me in ways I would not have believed, since following the call to Mortfield. Who am I, who are any in our number, that the Unsung King saw fit to create, even reward, us? Do our former worlds serve as offering in some way for this boon of power?" 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Oneiroclast  - (1d20+15)[ 25 ]  The blessings as one of the Thousand
  Sense Doom  - (1d20+68)[ 71 ]  The Influence of the Unsung King on this host
 
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
L’Chandal, The Crucible
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 10:07 AM  

E'Dene was pacing on the far side of the room, irritated and impatient at the whole ordeal. Evidently she did not approve. Se'Jaine seemed mostly indifferent, leaning against a wall listening. Though Erik's last question seemed to have irked her. She quietly glared daggers at him, as if his prodding were some unforgivable hubris.  [Erik: Sense Motive - Partial] 

Behind her hat Esk'Jola's expression was impossible to see. Even with all his effort, he couldn't crack the enigma. The memories were muddled, the world was esoteric and he struggled to piece together the pieces and visions. He simply did not know enough. The Justice raised a hand to quiet him.    "You have not earned the right to ask anything of me. Now choose. Or I will choose for you."   
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (69,570xp)  [SUP]  [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦  ⮸  (+30xp) 
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
⬖  Blue crystal with quicksilver veins
⬖  Black glass fragment 
  ⭍  Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight   
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SECRETS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ CAUTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DEATH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※DESTINY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※REALITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※BLACK ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※VOID ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※DESTRUCTION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※COURAGE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※BRAVERY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※LORD ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※OTHERWORLD ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※SALVATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ANNIHILATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※PENANCE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ASTRAY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※SEALS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※CORRUPTION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※SLAIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※DIVERGED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WONDER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ MOTIVES  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※KEY-BEARER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
 

     
Mornings
     
    "An escape which violates my law, is no escape at all. Do not become a problem for me, or I will become a problem for  you. "     There was an immense weight behind the solar-being's words.  A warning.  As if the cosmos might tumble down upon her. Like the sky might threaten to collapse beneath the wrath of stars.     "Strangely, I sense now, even if you were to depart. Your path would be impeded... So I suppose you must wait."    

The connection to the ancestors wisdom was one of the traits of a Veil Witch. They each belonged to an unbroken chain of successors, bound by a limitless curse. While a Veil Witch was not a mortal, she was not an eternal being either. Inevitably her life-essence would wane and she would vanish from the world, unable to continue her physical existence. This was the closest thing to 'death' a Veil Witch knew. When this happened they joined the  Nst'Ænor;  the World Veil which bound all Vet'Cnros souls together. When a Veil Witch reached the first stages of magical maturity. She learned how to connect with the Veil sown with her predecessors spirits by quieting her mind, to listen to the whispers which shared their secrets and revealed the hidden truths of the strange and abstract. This was more than a psychological change, but a stage of physical growth as well. This first step was known as 'L'Alshar', or  the focused mind,  and was typically seen as the initial signs of having begun pubescent development for Vet'Cnros. Young Witches were often extremely embarrassed to speak of, or admit they had begun to experience their L'Alshar. As the Witch matured, she learned to strengthen her connection with the ancestors, then learned 'greater minds' which opened her esoteric consciousness to even greater Veils. A fully grown Veil Witch eventually inherited the unknowable depths of awareness which allowed her to commune with the Pale Lady and command the Black. This was seen as the precipice of Vet'Cnros ability, however Adessa was said to have been capable of beseeching the Mados directly. A feat impossible for all who came before her.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Success] 

Stella was not exceptionally knowledgeable about the Mados, but the whispers mutely chattered in her ears. Nearly anything could be offered to the Mados, but  physical things  likely was not enough to be considered 'grand' or special in any way. She would need to accomplish something to distinguish herself from those others who also vied for its favor and attentions. It was not so simple a thing, nor was there any precedent for just what form such a labor might take. Only the truly blessed who had heard the voice of the Mados could even begin to interpret its will. She would have to work towards a deeper understanding with the aid of a Cult.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Partial] 

The true definition of what a Passage was... It was similar to asking what 'magic' or a 'Veil' was. It was both simple, and needlessly complex. So much so, Stella could not even understand the occult jargon babbling in her mind. Many words. Meaningless words.  She didn't understand.  At some basic level, a Passage was simply a plane, or even a demi-plane. All of these things could be 'Passages'. A Passage was a plane, but not all planes were Passages. She didn't really understand the distinction. Regardless, some of these Passages allowed secure travel between the Three Worlds. Some even ensure the stability of various planes, allowing its denizens to resist being thrown into the Otherworlds, or allowing for direct traversal without having to rely on 'back doors' and suspicious characters like the Ra'Dolfaal to smuggle her between these distinct universes. Supposedly these cosmic structures were controlled by a being known as the Lord of Passages, and the Goddess;  D'Okkolah'rahn.   [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Partial] 

Fates were less of a mystery. Stella had learned much from Alicia in that regard while training herself to Spellweave. Fates were the threads of the Weave. Each thread was a Destined Fate, an event or series of events which would define or conclude some cosmic divination sewn into existence. They were the fabric of reality and allowed for things to exist, underlying the rules - Up was up, down was down. Fire was hot, ice was cold. Every fundamental certainty down to the elemental layers and predictability of the seen and unseen was dictated by the Fates. Of course, they were not necessarily idle and unmoving things. Sometimes they could be tampered with, much in the same way she did when she twisted the threads to produce her spells in the past. Damaging or corrupting a Fate could change something fundamental; there was almost no limit to the potential damage such carelessness could cause. Such matters were indescribably complex if studied beyond a surface level, but she didn't understand much more than that, she merely twisted the the threads to make strange shapes and unleashed impossible spells.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Partial] 

A new voice begun to quietly recount an ancient tale in Stella's ear. When Elahkhuur divided reality into the Three Worlds with her fierce blade, the Three Kings - The Nightmare King, The Unsung King and The Witch King agreed to divide their Laws among their Successor Lords. The Lords inherited these godly powers as vested subjects to their lieges, for a time. The Three Kings were bound by the rulings of The Wheel &amp; Council, in addition to the Justices of the Otherworlds appointed by the Three Houses of the Third World, all in the hope that the great war which split apart the Garden might never be waged again. However, the Successor Lords were not beholden to this same administration, laundering their powers in secret to these vessels. Each Lord ruled over a manner of deific domain, in the form of a realm of concept. Their presence brought with it stability and order to otherwise chaotic spaces of reality and punished those who might needlessly act out -  such as the Ra'dolfaal.  Without the Lords to keep such beings in-line, they ran rampant and wild... Though inevitably the Successor Lords brought more harm than good... But that was a story for another time.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Partial] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 3/6 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮟  Spite : 1 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
 ⮯  Corrupted Fate  (Ra'Dolfaal)  
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (218,000xp)   (⮸ +35),   (⮸ +55) - Successor Lords,   (⮸ +100) - D'Okkolah'rahn,   (⮸ +10) - L'Alshar  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※ SOVEREIGNTY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ NOBILITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DISCOVERY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ VEIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※EVIL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ CURSE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MEMORY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)
※ WORLDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ FATE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ FAITH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DREAMS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ ANCESTORS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ORIGIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DIVINITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※LEGENDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ PAST-LIFE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REINCARNATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
Mornings
     
  The Painter of the Tempest  
  "Not to war, little beast. We are leaving now. Departing. Taking the Black March."      "Unto Holy Doom."    The great wolf interjected,    "Unto Holy Death."    Miryks wasn't sure he understood.  Were they marching to die?  Could a dream even perish?   "We go. Beneath the gaze of gods. Beast, worm and saint. Supplicants all. With humility before their eyes. Into the Holy Void."   The towering eerie being that was Saint Rothe hung her head,    "We preserve our strength and offer our prayers unto the Void. That we might collect its blessings. Fortifying ourselves to better our chances to emerge from the Rite. Whole and made new."   

Miryks shivered as an alarming chill crawled up his face like an itching rash, a knot forming in his stomach. If his body were unchanged, he would have paled and felt his hands become damp at the foreboding haze hanging over him. He could feel malignant eyes upon them, like a vicious seething. The greater he focused the deeper the shriveling terror became, seemingly without end. Trembling like the last leaf in a winter breeze, he finally could take no more. Cutting off his mental connection to his juvenile intuitive sense. He could feel the malice of the Unsung King, and while he did not understand it, he knew the being did not mean them well.
 [Miryks: Sense Doom- Success] 

There was no response at first to his words, until the Black wolf-creature suddenly burst into cackling laughter.    "Rite? You know none. Not yet. Soon you will!"    Miryks could feel the darkness lurch, then twist. As if they were walking under great ocean waves and some horrible beast of immeasurable size churned in the dark waters. Something twisted and turned in the black. The Dohl'Denka paused, grasping him in a clawed hand,   "Oh, no. What have you done, little beast. What have you done. It is still too early for you..."   White circles coiled in the dark. Spinning. Gyrating, Turning and whirling at speeds he could not even describe. Until they were already upon him, snapping across the infinite space between them in an instant. White teeth ripped Miryks from the beasts grasp. Biting into him savagely. The hairy creature clawed at the boney disembodied teeth helplessly, frantically hopping from side to side,   "Oh no. Oh no. What have you done! It is far too early, little beast. You have not fortified yourself."      "The 'small one' has been chosen. Receive the Blessings of your Rite, First-Taken. We pray your flame goes unextinguished."   

One by one the slithering, clawing, horrid beasts raise a claw, tentacle or hand towards him as he was pulled by the teeth into the sky.  'First-Taken. Unextinguished.'  A million gibbering voices clacked, hissed and chanted the same as another disembodied maw manifested and bit down into him forcing from him a strained groan. The Dohl'Denka did not have flesh, nor eyes, but he imagined the great lumbering monster would have cried if it were capable of such an act. After finally accepting the futility of its desperate lashing gestures, it raised its hand toward him.   "First-Taken... Burn, unextinguished."  

Sharply, he was suddenly ripped into the cold featureless void-dark of the abyss.  [Miryks: Oneiroclast - Success] 
   Twirling in his fall, carried at speeds which grinded his skin against the teeth, the jaws slowed, beginning to thrash and toss him about. Grinding there mouths, mutilating his dark flesh. More teeth, more mouths. They swept in from every angle, biting into his legs, his arms, his sides then his face. Ripping off parts of himself like a frenzy of voracious beasts. A set of teeth latched onto his cheek and savagely ripped away part of his hood and face, taking with it an ear. There was no blood. For he was not human. There was only suffering, as he was torn and ripped,  eaten alive.   [Miryks: Blessing of the Thousand,  Flagellation of the Reverend Maw - You suffer 3d6 points of wisdom damage as your sanity is devoured in tribute. In exchange, you gain impossible insight. The Supplicant gains 1d4 points of Memory.] 
    "So soon... Unexpected. That the First-Taken, be you."     Somewhere from across the span of the endless, between the short moments where his torture was lessened, he could feel some manner of being from the void speak out.     "Blessed be thy flame..."    
 
 Spoiler: Knowledge (Oneiroclast) - Nightmare Magic 
The power of dreams was a terrible thing when left unchecked. Oneiroclast is the primary casting skill of the Ros'wussrun peoples. Too dangerous to be used by the Witches of Duvan, only the Great School of E'Spdon Valdruk taught Nightmare Witches how to harness its terrible power. Within the Nightmare Worlds, its ability to shape the Dream was an immense power. Yet, it was a sinister force, constantly drawn by the will of the Hunger, causing all such manipulations to snap back upon themselves, like a cosmic rubber-band, to implode in the hands of would-be Witches. It required countless years of training and remarkable arcane aptitude to master the magics of the Dream and wrest its secrets free.
 

 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  0 
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50   (⮸ +50xp)   
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (8,830xp)     (⮸ +25xp) , (⮸ +55xp) - Doom, (⮸ +10xp) - First-Taken  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ DREAMS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ CELEBRATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※REALITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ BLACK  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※DIVINITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ FORBIDDEN  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DOOM  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

     
Stevesciguy
   
 Of course it wouldn't be that easy.  It was naive to think that a simple change of circumstance would convince them to illuminate him. For now he'd still have to work in the dark.

But he didn't need illumination to see that something was wrong here. Wardens didn't ask their prisoners what their sentence should be. Inexplicably as ever, he was being granted the choice.

His eyes flicked over to where E'Dene placed impatiently. The Witch who'd taken to doting on him even as she called for his death.
Then Se'Jaine. Who had wanted him imprisoned in case he was useful. Though she had never deigned to explain what purpose a mewling kitten in a cage could serve.
And back to Esk'Jola. Who had rejected them both to instead train him for reasons that were beyond his grasp.

He couldn't see the full picture. But he knew it didn't include him walking away. The three Witches had been in this room with him for three years, and even seemed privy to his thoughts, though to what degree he didn't know. They already knew what he would say.

The fires of Willowbrook still burned faintly in his mind. He was looking up at the Auspex again.

The Justice of Kathe had given him an offer, not a choice.

All four of them were just waiting for him to take it.

"  Option three. I'll fix whatever I've broken. Difficult as it may be.  "
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

Miryks's shadowy form sunk within itself at the sheer terror that stabbed him to the core. Miryks felt a nonexistent and painfully mortal form react viscerally to the dread that loomed over them all; Phantom Limb, soldiers called it. As if sensing this change, the wolf's words now took a sinister turn as concern etched itself across the Dohl'Denka's face. Miryks's inquisitive mind had delved too deep, too fast, and consequence approached him with an endless hunger and countless mouths to feed.

It wasn't so much the shock of being torn away from the Dohl'Denka as it was the lack of pain. Pain was a mortal sensation, whose meaning had been left behind. Pain was the smooth embrace of a warm bath, a lover's kiss upon his cheek. His worst pain was reduced to a fond memory, and then even that was denied to him. Miryks could feel his very essence gnawed away in ways his mind couldn't begin to comprehend.

A life of blood and viscera had taught Miryks many ways to tear information from an unwilling body, and the power of the mind to resist such attempts. Everyone broke, sooner or later, regardless of the strength of their mind. But this... this was on a level he doubted most deities could conceive. Each mouth of the endless onslaught stole a piece of his very being. Every moment was spent in white hot agony, only to grow worse the next instant. Time stopped for him as his reality became an endless horizon of teeth. Even sentience was denied to him. Who and what he was melted away, until a voice called out to his floundering existence from the all but imperceptible flickers between bites and his mind latched onto two words.   First taken  
forg99rules
 
 Stella held her hands up in a gesture showing that she meant no harm by her words,   "I was only stating that I couldn't think of another way, I very much want to be on your good side and have a pleasant relationship with you. If I am stuck here, do you have any good suggestions to pass the time? I could keep asking questions of you but I feel like that ends up being a bit rude as you are not getting anything in return for answering the questions."   Stella took a moment to look around at her surroundings trying to see what she could about the place as well trying to think about what might be impeding her departure.   "You also mentioned that she would not have meant to place me this deep, how deep exactly did I get sent?"   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Just posting to get something up even though I am a bit unsure what to do next lol

Perception:  (1d20+10)[ 16 ]  - Just wanting to get a general idea of what is around me
Know abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 17 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 17 ]  - Wondering how "Deep" I am
 
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
L’Chandal, The Crucible
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 10:13 AM  

The pacing Witch abruptly screamed out in frustration, casually ripping off a standing piece of the stone kitchen wall and throwing it through what had once been his bedroom door. The explosive display nearly unseated him as the quaking burst vaporized the last of his good furniture under a hail of earthen shrapnel. She pointed venomously at the Justice, her words a burning hiss,   "Curse you, sister! You will forever regret this moment of weakness."   Hastily, she stormed over to the haggard warrior, towering over the seated man. The dainty Witch was not large in stature by any definition, yet her grit and the murderous aura wafting over him dwarfed the mettle of any beast or soldier he'd ever crossed swords with.  He'd never felt so small.    " It's not your fault...   That you're a monster. "   She briefly brushed her fingers by the side of his hair, her forlorn expression was eerie and made his skin crawl.   "One day, you'll see that too... When you are ready to trade your life to me, you may call upon me again."   Sharply, she recoiled, snapping a furious glare at the senior Justice as she turned on her heel and walked away.  She was gone. 

Justice E'Dene had not teleported, or invoked some mysterious spell. Nor did she fly off into the abyss or phase through a wall.  She simply ceased to be.  Erik had not even blinked, he kept his senses sharp enough to avoid such a careless blunder. He'd seen it completely,  from beginning to end . It was as if something had been taken from him. As if his very perception were a child's hand grasping upon noble coattails, and that coat had been sharply ripped from his grimy little hands. His awareness. Perhaps even a memory of something he could no longer recall.  It was gone.  A moment, or perhaps some happening which he could no longer perceive. His right to know, revoked, by some divine will. She was simply  gone , as if she could not exist at all. As if he and  her  could not occupy the same moment in the world at all. He felt suddenly...  empty . Left only with the awareness, like a word was on the tip of his tongue, or a thought at the edge of his mind - yet he couldn't recall it, and he never would. It was a keening mental itch, like a rash he would never find means to balm.

   "I trust this settles it then."    Erik noted the Justice's words were not directed at him, nor Se'Jaine. There was a twisting shift. A distortion which slightly blurred a part of his vision, like looking through lenses with a small smear upon their surface. Then it grew more defined, darkening until the undefined blot loomed over all of them.    "...Yes. Yes. I suppose that will do. Certainly."    The specter's soundless mental projection of meaning resounded in his mind. He interpreted the whole experience as words with an unsteady tone, though it was far from it. The strange intrusion into his mind was jarring, like daggers of ice being shoved into his brain. The expressions were closer, perhaps, to sigils, pictographs or mayhap even hieroglyphs. Much like a symbol for a horse could be inherently understood to be a horse. These shapes could intrinsically impart meaning, even tone of voice, despite the shapes seeming somewhat fluid and without intelligible meaning. It was like a drawing, but rather than the picture itself, it was the movement of the brush, or stroke of the pen which imparted its intended message.   "Ugh. How...  boring . I'll take my leave then."   Without waiting for a response Se'Jaine was gone in a similar manner. Despite seeing it twice, Erik was no closer to understanding the phenomenon.    "If this will suffice. You will honor the terms."   
   "Indeed. As agreed, the Tellers hereby revoke our right to the Passage of Kathe. These rights shall be restored to the Lady Kathe, Rhess Alklevrielba."    Esk'Jola quickly rose to her feet, her attention shifting back towards Erik.    "You remain a threat. But, this will suffice for now. Though, evidently, well beyond your current abilities. If by some miracle you muster the means to tamper with the Otherworlds, know you are not welcome in Kathe. Do not attempt to open our Passage, or you will be dealt with in a more permanent fashion. For all else... I care little. Good fortune making amends. Pray we do not meet again."    Once again,  gone . The last of the Justices had departed, blinking out of reality as if they could unravel their very existence with a thought. Leaving him...  not alone. 

A slow firm clapping broke the tense silence.    "I told you he would fair well, shadow."    The words seemed to twist their way into his world as a visible shift, like a dimensional wave swept over the chamber, repairing the walls and bringing the room back into an orderly state. A young man now stood on the far end of the dinning room.    "Yes...  Unexpected.  I am not often to misread one. Perhaps I was wrong about this Lord."    The young man nodded,    "Yes, I do believe that is so."    His words were now aimed at the older swordsman,    "Forgive me, my Lord. I believe this might be the first time we have ever formally met. I am Luntis, the Curator of the Great Library. Archivist of Ashurbanipal. At your service, as ever."    He executed a curt and noble bow, with one foot forward and a hand over his heart.    "The Teller had wagered against you, but you conducted yourself with honor and discipline. Well done to you, and my congratulations for overcoming quite the perilous ordeal."    Erik hadn't realized it. The  thing,  the twisted shadow. It had been the Dark Teller. The specter certainly had appeared differently last they met, but he supposed that was subject to change. How did one even go about describing the face of darkness? It was quite a fluid thing indeed.

   "Now that our agreement is settled. We have some things to discuss...  How you'll be making amends. "   
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (69,590xp)  [SUP]  [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦  ⮸  (+20xp) 
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
⬖  Blue crystal with quicksilver veins
⬖  Black glass fragment 
  ⭍  Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight   
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SECRETS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CAUTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DEATH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※DESTINY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※REALITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※BLACK ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※VOID ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※DESTRUCTION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※COURAGE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※BRAVERY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※LORD ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※OTHERWORLD ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SALVATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ANNIHILATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※PENANCE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ASTRAY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※SEALS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※CORRUPTION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※SLAIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※DIVERGED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WONDER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ MOTIVES  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※KEY-BEARER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
 

     
Mornings
     
  The Painter of the Tempest  
Ripped and dragged across the dark, by now countless feeding mouths. He should have listened.  Truly listened,  to what those strange beasts had said and what the Dohl'Denka feared.  Holy Doom.  A march unto  Holy Death.  A procession from which there would be no return. Just as there now would be no return for him. The ghosts and terrors took great efforts to strengthen themselves. To  fortify  their flames, that they might better their chances to survive whatever horrific fate awaited them each. He had forgone any such preparations. As his form diminished, his insight grew. Some dark eye opening within his mind in unspeakable revelation.

 He was a fool.  Now made the first of a hundred billion nameless dreams torn upon. Brought to the very crux of oblivion. There were names which could not be spoken. Knownings, which could not be known, and forms beyond the formless which no lesser being might witness. These were the magics of universes beyond the insignificant musings of a once-mortal mind. This was the Divine Abstract. The great chasm which parted the lesser mortals and gods of pitiable realities from the greater forces which truly governed the spans of the real. He had inadvertently attempted to tread upon that line. To delve into that chasm, like many a fool before him. In the same fashion as those who once tried, he had stumbled upon the horridness of the Nightmare Magics of E'Spdon Valdruk. Yet, unlike those other fools, he had somehow succeeded in bending the Dream to his will. It was more than luck. Perhaps he'd simply grown more in-tune with the dreamworld since becoming a nightmare himself, or maybe he held some degree of talent. He'd never know if he could not hold out. With each passing of a vicious toothy jaw, the pain began to recede and he forgot some piece of himself.  The flames diminishing.  Each memory was like a candle in the darkness of his deprived skull. One-by-one, they were being snuffed out by the maddening dark.  [Miryks: Fortitude Save (DC 15) - Vs 2d6 Wisdom Damage]   [ Blessing of the Thousand,  Flagellation of the Reverend Maw : the Supplicant gains an additional 1d3 points of Memory] 

His physical form was becoming smaller. Comically ripped into pieces like a toy, or gingerbread dissolving in milk. A hand snapped off like a twig. A wing plucked off like a tortured moth. In the storm of suffering his awareness keened. His thoughts grew sharper.  Miryks knew that voice.  Though he'd never heard it before. Instinctually he knew who spoke to him now.  The Nightmare of Kings.  The terrible and formless goddess of the Nightmare Worlds. The cruel dread and unending freight of the Mortal Worlds.  Ehv'cah'Sath.  Perhaps it was his reward to have his trial witnessed by the nightmare goddess, or perhaps his foolish haste had attracted much attention. He could feel countless eyes locked upon him now. Stern, merciless gazes, curiously looking on from impossible distances at what might become of this fatuous fledgling dream. Foolhardy? Or Bold?  They eagerly awaited the answer to his fate.   [Miryks: Fortitude Save (DC 20) - Vs 1d6 Wisdom Damage]   [ Blessing of the Thousand,  Flagellation of the Reverend Maw : the Supplicant gains an additional 1d2 points of Memory] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  1   (⮸ +1)   
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (8,880xp)     (⮸ +50xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ DREAMS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)   (+3)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)   (+3)  
※ BEASTS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ CELEBRATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BLACK  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)   (+3)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DOOM  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ INSIGHT  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)   (+2)  
※ MAGIC  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)   (+2)  
 

     
Mornings
     
    " Deep.  This is the Frame."     Stella could feel herself blink a few times blankly. The 'god-tongue' of the Second World translated into Taldane made even less sense when she had been raised and educated in the veiled tongue, Vet'Cnros. She didn't remember all the layers and sub-layers of reality. That was a bit too..  scholastic  for her aptitudes, but she was sure it was something past the third layer. As nothing could exist beyond the sixth, that meant she was physically closer to the threshold of oblivion than ever before. Likely closer than any living mortal had ever come. Normally a physical body or conscious mind could not maintain itself, struggling with planar insatiability until it was torn apart. That was the fate of most things which merely fell a single existential phase. That threat was multiplicative by degrees of power she could not fathom for each phase beyond the first. Yet, somehow she remained unmolested by forces which should have otherwise caused her to implode upon herself. The voices whispered to her, that the 'Frame' was the existential phase of Cosmic Law. A rigid construct which dictated the state and function of all phases before it. It was also inhabited by Enforcers, beings who protected those laws like Ulbeelta, and doggedly purged any deviants and deviations of those laws. In other words, It was not a place a troublemaker like her would be welcome.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Partial] 

Stella was drifting through the cold black of the furthest reaches of space. What lights she could see were far, further than any imaginable distance, and hundreds of millions of light-years across in size. Great celestial billowing clouds of irradiated stellar dust glinting in a storm of colors invisible to mortal eyes. It was the abyss beyond the sky's horizon, seemingly without end. Perhaps this span of darkness did not even exist in the sky, but some other plane or dimension below the material world. The further one was removed from the natural expression of their reality, down into the existential phases, the closer one approached to oblivion and the origin of all things. Despite the soundless quiet and airless vacuum of the cosmos, she strangely felt no discomfort. Carried helplessly at some awkward angle, weightless.     "On occasion I relieve my retainers of their responsibilities, for a century or two. One, was once Vet'Cnros like you. I imagine she will not be willing while free of her duties, but she would make for a suitable teacher. She is Sircé, Who Dreamt The Devouring Night. Convince her, and perhaps your struggles might end."      [Stella: Perception - Success ] 
    "It is almost time to leave. If you've more questions, offer something in return."    
 
 Spoiler: Cosmic Offerings 
Payments to cosmic beings can take any number of forms, but nearly any resource is treated as a currency by some being in the Three Worlds. It's merely a question of finding the right one. Players can trade Experience Points (EXP), ability score points, hit points, skill points, items, combat stamina (STA), mundane currency, spell resources (such as MP/Spell Slots) and even unique resources such as Focus Points (FP), Memory, Spite or Honor. It should be assumed that most transactions from a replenishing pool will reduce the character's current and maximum allotment. Resources traded in this way can never be restored, however increases gained via other sources might circumvent this loss. Not all entities will trade or purchase in certain resources. Some may even trade in abilities or Potentials.
 

 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 3/6 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮟  Spite : 1 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
 ⮯  Corrupted Fate  (Ra'Dolfaal)  
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (218,030xp)   (⮸ +30),  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※SOVEREIGNTY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※[B]NOBILITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ DISCOVERY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※VEIL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※EVIL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)
※MEMORY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)
※ WORLDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FAITH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DREAMS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ANCESTORS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※ORIGIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DIVINITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※LEGENDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※PAST-LIFE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※REINCARNATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
Stevesciguy
   

Erik brought a hand to his head as the witches disappeared.  Deeply unsettling  was an insufficient statement for the sensation, but he imagined that he'd have to find some way to get used to it. He supected that would be far from the last time he'd experience something of the sort.

An agreement, centered around him. That certainly explained some of the odd behavior, in particular that he'd been given a say in his fate. But otherwise... much remained cloudy. Esk'Jola in particular as inscrutable as always. " Good luck. If I see you again I'll kill you. "

Standing from his seat, Erik took a moment to study Luntis. Unlike the Librarian, he had a proper name - he wondered what the significance in that was. It admittedly surprised Erik to find that there was another that answered to him as Lord, though he had no right to be. It isn't as though he knew anything about Passage Lords before becoming one.

Erik nodded to Luntis. "  Hello, Curator. Good to have someone friendly here coming out of this... sentence.  "

Then facing the Teller, Erik pressed deep any confusion or uncertainty he harbored. Now was not the time to allow any appearance of weakness, if he could help it.

"  Teller. Reparations, yes. Are we still discussing this in terms of fragments and trade deals, or have things progressed beyond such means?  "

 
 Spoiler: OoC 
Gonna run a Sense Motive on Luntis. Get his general vibe. Not even gonna try to read the dark blob lul
Sense Motive:  (1d20+13)[ 22 ] 

Doubt it'll work but gonna try a linguistics check on those glyphs Erik "saw" while the Teller spoke
Linguistics:  (1d20+9)[ 10 ] 

Erik's known languages are Taldane, Varisian, Skald, Azlanti, Necril, and Sign Language if that's relevant

Also going to Roll a Survival check, see if the place feels different after that sort of change happened
Survival:  (1d20+14)[ 18 ] 

Erik also has this if that applies here:

 Sense of Peril I - Gain a +4 circumstance bonus to Survival Checks to sense corruption, planar distortions and cosmic threats within your immediate surroundings 
 
Mornings
     
The Curator was expressive and easy to read, perhaps that was a miracle amid an endless sea of faceless, nameless abominations. The young man was earnest and forthright, not appearing to have any ulterior motives. He had a purpose and a role in all this, and it was evidently something he took some pride in. He had a reason to be here, a  reason  to believe in him, and that was more than he could say for most people that he'd crossed paths with thus far. He could feel there was some tie, some connection which joined them each to the Great Library. Perhaps their fates were somehow joined, but for now Erik was at least certain the Curator was at least on his side... for now.    "Yes... I imagine so. A most grueling trail, to be sure."     [Erik: Sense Motive - Success]  

Ashurbanipal had changed. At least, what was left of it. The Great Library had not been restored, but the small room was evidently changed. Not only visibly, but intangibly as well. Something had diverged from the state it had once been, like a cave being abandoned and inhabited from a den of wolves, to the borrow of a bear. The resident had changed, but the cave was still not his. It was a deeply unsettling feeling, a threatening looming doom centered around the teller. Like speaking to a smiling merchant while surrounded by a throng of vicious men with poisoned blades.    "Reparations. Yes... Unfortunately, we are past fragments and trades now. Things changed when you took  that key ."    The last words seemed to fall heavy and pointedly. Finally clarifying the reason for all of this.  Of course it was the key.  The only thing he couldn't understand, was why the need for all this song and dance. Indirect intervention by some trio of Witches, under-table dealings and whatever else this was. Whatever the reason, the change in their soured relationship was palpable.  [Erik: Sense Peril - Success]  
   " Before that.  Release your hold on the Library, shadow. We had terms."    A silent gesture with no response. Erik could feel the looming darkness overhead lessen then vanish. Once again the Library, or what was left of it, was his. The Curator looked back at Erik,    "I believed you would manage a solution with your dignity intact, and without the outside influence of more perverse patrons like those of the Midnight Between."       "Mortals. They remain as unpredictable as ever... But no matter the noble intention, each holds their on fallible crux. "   

Erik tried to focus on the shapes, the 'words', the erratic dancing sigils tracing through his consciousness. It was like wild tracings upon a chalk board in his peripheral vision.    "Yours is perhaps..."    He tried to shift his minds eye, the internal vision to shift and focus on those symbols. Turning to face them.    "Ah...  Curiosity. "   

Racing. Shifting. Streams of white and terrible muted colors. The lines arced violent and vicious, like a brush waved by some crazed and frenzied hand. Searing cold. Blistering pain cast splinters of freezing iron through his brain. He shook suddenly, loosing his breath. A sharp crack of light snapped across his arm like a stress fracture on masonry. White hot fire grew and bloomed as a low immutable chattering of unintelligible whispering begun to fill his ears. Slowly it rose in volume.  CRACK.  A piece of his arm fell away to the floor, shattering like glass, revealing the golden light beneath. It dimmed and darkened as if the light had flittered away, dancing off into the sky, leaving his wound black and empty. Then came the voices, the gibbering gibberish of a hundred million garbled words. White lines, shifting, twisting, dancing, racing out from his wound like an angry swarm of pale locust. Sharply they suddenly took hard shapes, symbols freezing in place only to fall back down and carve themselves into his skin.    "Don't look at it. Don't look!"    Luntis grabbed Erik, wrapping his arms around him in a hug to bury the old man's face into his breast.     "It's not real.  It's not real.  Wake up."      [Assisted Check, Ashurbanipal (Erik): Spell Focus vs The Dark Pattern (DC 30) - Success]  
     Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
L’Chandal, The Crucible
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 10:47 AM  

Erik gasped, waking with a sharp start. He coughed and hacked, spitting up dark water.    "The Dark Pattern is an evil and dangerous thing. It is the very World Veil which created you, and the very force which you were destined to be slain by. As was all mortal life from your world... Or  planet,  rather. You would do well not to let your curiosity get the better of you..."    The floor was cold and he was colder still. His body was wet, like a man dragged out of the ocean. His lungs ached and throbbed, heavy with residual fluid as if he'd almost drowned. The damage he had seen upon his arms and the strange symbols were gone without a trace, but so too was the Dark Teller. Leaving him alone with the young Luntis.    "The shadow is gone, but I'm afraid we've much to discuss."   
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (69,720xp)     [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦   (⮸ +30xp), (⮸ +100xp) - The Dark Pattern   
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
⬖  Blue crystal with quicksilver veins
⬖  Black glass fragment 
  ⭍  Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight   
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SECRETS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CAUTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱  4%  ( 4 /100 EXP)  (-1) 
※ DEATH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ DESTINY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ REALITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ BLACK  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ VOID  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DESTRUCTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※COURAGE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※BRAVERY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ OTHERWORLD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SALVATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ ANNIHILATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ PENANCE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ASTRAY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※SEALS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ WORLDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CORRUPTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SLAIN  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ DIVERGED  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WONDER  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ MOTIVES  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KEY-BEARER  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURIOUS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KNOWLEDGE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
Stevesciguy
   

Erik hacked up what water he could from his lungs.  He really needed to break this habit. 

"  Thank you, Curator. Teller's right - never did know when to back off.  Curiosity ... a fitting flaw for the Lord of the Great Library. Something out there has a sense of humor.  "

Erik struggled to his feet, attempting to keep intact that dignity Luntis had just mentioned. He wasn't sure he'd succeeded.

"  We do have a lot to discuss, but first, tell me what in the Nine Hells happened. Are we still in the divergence? Is the Librarian...?  "

Erik wasn't sure how to finish the sentence. Could the Librarian die?  Be unmade ? He'd seemed human, but Erik wasn't about to take appearances for granted at this point. The Justices had looked human, after all, though they were anything but.
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
L’Chandal, The Crucible
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 10:49 AM  

The Curator grinned softly,    "Ela-...  The Librarian.  Cannot be destroyed. Not while Ashurbanipal still exists. It might be correct in believing that  he , and the Great Library, are one and the same. Though, like the Library..."    His gaze shifted about the modest and homely chamber,    "He is in no fit state. Though,  he is here...  Somewhere. Though he can no longer be perceived, nor interface with the Library or its denizens while he has been diminished so. A matter which, I'm sure he is most displeased with."    He sighed, still glancing about as if half expecting the old man to pop-up from nowhere.

After seeming satisfied that the old man would not appear after all, he crossed his arms, shifting his tone as if trying to mimic the bellowing of the gray-bearded man.    "No more, Lord Ragnok. You are more careful than a politician with men, but abandon all reason when you find an unattended box.  Curiosity  is just as likely to get you killed as a dagger might. Men cannot lie to your face. They will use other means to undermine you. To destroy you, if they can. Much of the Otherworlds are filled to the brim with such perils, and fewer still even in the Three Worlds even understand such things. The Abstract is the nature of Witches and their ilk. You must not be so gullible or naïve to fall to their temptuous and clever tricks."    He wagged a finger in Erik's face stiffly, mirroring a familiar gesture.    " You are a Lord.  You should rely on your subjects and confidantes to investigate such matters for you, not taste of the poisoned chalice yourself."   

After a pause he cleared his throat,    "Now... Unto other matters. To answer your question, we are  not  within that previous Divergence... Though, explaining further might require something of a brief lesson in rudimentary Spellweaving. Fortunately for you, my Lord. Such lessons happen to fall within my duties."    Tenderly he produced a pair of eye glasses from an inner-coat pocket and took at seat at the large table, which was now covered with books and other writing stationary. An inkwell and quill manifest under his hand as he pulled a piece of parchment from across the table. Sharply he traced two parallel lines on the paper.    "I will keep this brief, merely as an introduction to these concepts. Imagine, if you will, these two lines are two distinct Fates. You've seen theses lines before. They are the literal 'threads' of red light, black light, and all manner of colors-besides. What appears to you as literal strings are also an expression,  to a lesser degree , of the building blocks of our universe's existence. In my written example, we will call the thread on the left, Fate 1, and the thread on the right, Fate 2..."    He quickly labeled each line on the paper to make it easier to understand.    "When a Divergence takes place, it alters the Fate to some degree. Perhaps the line is bent, or twisted. These changes could be minor, but in some cases they may be more drastic. A single Divergence is not much of an issue..."    He begun to draw an angle in the line, followed by another, before drawing a fork in the line completely.

   "The problem emerges when too many of these changes occur. In the most severe cases, the end destination of the Fate itself might be altered... Which,  could  be a problem. That isn't necessarily a negative thing, or a positive thing, and such changes are actually fairly common. You might think of it as the dimming or brightening of a star. It likely wont impact you in any meaningful way directly... but that changes when its  your star.  Your own world. Then, that becomes a problem. The fundamental concept of Spellweaving is to alter foreign Fates into powerful circuits of force from which the natural energy of our universe, called  Mana , might be transmuted and made into immense, often violent, expressions of magic. Effectively, a series of Divergences...  elsewhere.  However, one thing remains impossible for Spellweaving, despite this ability to seemingly create Divergences at will. That is, creating a Divergence, for  yourself ."    The Archivist drew a smiling stick figure next to Fate 2 on the paper.    "You see, there is a concept called the 'Fate Native', a scholarly term for a more advanced lesson, but simply put, this is the Fate to which  you belong.  Most mortals remain, or at least, actively project their sense of consciousness unto the Fate which they belong to. Their life begins and ends with that Fate, and there's really nothing more to be said of it. However, for Paramortals and other  higher beings,  this is not the case at all. While the Fate which the being belongs to, would be where they came into creation, they are not bound to it, and their position within the Fates becomes a rather fluid state."    He tapped his quill next to Fate 2 and the smiling man,    "When a being enters this fluid state and moves to a different Fate, he looses his Fate Native and now inhabits, what we shall call from this point on,  a World Line. "    Erik's eyes hovered over the second picture for a moment, feeling that this explanation had finally come to a head.

   "Your Fate Native has been repaired, fully. However, we have been moved to a different World Line. Making that fact quite,  irrelevant.  Spellweaving is a form of Second World magic which cannot influence the Fate which you physically reside. The same  cannot  be said of the Dark Pattern. Fortunately, you are now no more a man, nor a mortal, but a Lord. That makes you Paramortal by nature. Otherwise, the experience would have been rather...  abrasive. "    Luntis tipped the glasses off from his face as he placed down the pen.    "Longwinded, I know. But believe me... This was certainly the definition of  brevity.  The Otherworlds are marvelous, albeit, terrifying and complex. No Lord rules alone, nor are you the Lord of Fates. There are simply things beyond your power, and you will need to lean upon those who serve you to win our inevitable war."   

Gently he folded the arms of his eyeglasses and slid them back into his coat-pocket.    "Now, in some manner of blind Fortune. The World Line we now inhabit has not yet inherited the Key to Midnight. Which means, well, the Elghin'Mados doesn't want to rip you to pieces and the Teller doesn't hate you...  for now.  You also still hold the Blessing of the Lady of Passages as,  still , you are the only Lord presently in this Fate as well.  Lucky, indeed.  The bad news...  We still have a considerable debt to pay. "   
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (70,230xp)     [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦   (⮸ +55xp), (⮸ +105xp) - The Dark Pattern, (⮸ +150xp) - The Fate Native, (⮸ +200xp) - World Lines   
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
⬖  Blue crystal with quicksilver veins
⬖  Black glass fragment 
  ⭍ (Suspended)   Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight    
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ SECRETS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※CAUTION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)
※ DEATH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ DESTINY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ FATE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※ REALITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ BLACK  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ VOID  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DESTRUCTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※COURAGE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※BRAVERY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ OTHERWORLD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ SALVATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ANNIHILATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ PENANCE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ASTRAY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SEALS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ WORLDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ CORRUPTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SLAIN  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ DIVERGED  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※ WONDER  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ MOTIVES  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KEY-BEARER  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ CURIOUS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KNOWLEDGE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+3) 
 

     
Stevesciguy
   

Erik nodded with some feeling of relief as the Curator answered his half-finished question. He'd expected as much, but nonetheless it was good to have it confirmed. Once the relief had registered, though, Erik latched onto that first syllable the Curator had let slip. The Librarian  did  have a name, or something like it. It wasn't relevant for now, and truth be told, Erik didn't care much to find out what it was - unknowable being the Librarian may be, he still had a right to privacy or preference, particularly in a world where names had so much more power than on Golarion. But the Librarian had claimed otherwise, and  that  was worth noting.

Erik listened intently to Luntis's barebones explanation of Fates.
"  So as long as we remain in this...  World Line , we're shielded from the worst consequences of my actions. But when we return... it all comes crashing back.  "

Lucky indeed.

"  The debt, then. The Teller said we were beyond fragments. What are we looking at now?  "
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
L’Chandal, The Crucible
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 10:51 AM  

Luntis furrowed his brow,    "Well...  No.  Inevitably, staying in this World Line wont matter in terms of the larger consequences of your previous actions. The principle of a  'Causalic Echo' , also colloquial referred to as   'Destined Transference' , dictate otherwise- "    He clapped his hands sharply to interrupt what Erik could tell was the beginning of a rant.    "I will spare you the details.  You're on borrowed time.  You cannot so easily escape or undo what has been done. Certainly not by merely moving to an adjacent World Line. If that were the case, every rat, Witch and Nightmare Beast of the Second World wouldn't understand the meaning of  consequences. "   

He took a deep breath.    "The price of your...  mishap,  is... well.  Steep.  It is considerably difficult to articulate the meanings and intricacies to a newborn Lord when time is of the essence. In fact,  it is quite unusual.  Normally we would have a few decades of lessons and proper education..."    The Curator was obviously not a simple or worldly man, growing visibly frustrated both with the need redact his speech to such a base state, and the circumstances which made it a necessity. Perhaps it was like trying to communicate with a child, or maybe even an animal who had just inherited sentience. Erik wondered how he would fare in such a case, if his fate were in the hands of an awakened Labrador with literal minutes of meaningful thought under its belt; and now it had to determine the fate of the material plane. It was a painful mental exercise, but the man's agonized expression felt like something similar.

   "The Teller wants the life-essence of the World Veil.  Your World Veil.  I convinced him to also be open to accepting an alternative of equal value as well,  just to keep our options open . Even that was not easily negotiated. Ultimately, his initial choice was not impartial, and  very  targeted. The Teller felt that other realms of the First World were being punished unjustly by the Mados, for  your  lack of judgement. Thus, only your realm should suffer for it. I was able to dissuade him from these childish antics, but an entire world is still a sizable bill."    Once more he clapped his hands, cutting himself off, seemingly satisfied with the grand reveal of what debts he owed and rose from his chair.

   "I suppose we have some time, but we'd best get to it. Right, my Lord?"   
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (70,250xp)     [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦   (⮸ +20xp)   
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
⬖  Blue crystal with quicksilver veins
⬖  Black glass fragment 
  ⭍ (Suspended)   Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight    
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SECRETS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※CAUTION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)
※DEATH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ DESTINY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ FATE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REALITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ BLACK  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※VOID ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※ DESTRUCTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※COURAGE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※BRAVERY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ OTHERWORLD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SALVATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ANNIHILATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ PENANCE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ASTRAY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SEALS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ WORLDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CORRUPTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SLAIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ DIVERGED  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WONDER  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ MOTIVES  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KEY-BEARER  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURIOUS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KNOWLEDGE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
Stevesciguy
   

There was a moment of silence as Erik sat stunned in his seat.  An entire world.  How many mortals have ever had such an impact? Few, if any. He dearly hoped that he'd already peaked at the impact his actions could have. Deep down, he doubted it.

 Borrowed time.  Erik grimaced as Luntis elaborated. Decades worth of experience he didn't have. Decades worth he'd need to learn in... even the Curator didn't seem to know exactly how long.

Every second counted, then. So much to do, in how much time he wasn't sure but he did know it would be all too little. He'd naively hoped to at least gather his thoughts now that he was free of the Justices. Now, under the circumstances, he imagined it'd be a long time before he got the chance.

Standing up along with the Curator: "  Yes. Yes, we should. Before the Justices interrupted, the Librarian was walking me through the process of creating a realm with the Book,  " he dipped his head toward the large black tome. "  Is that still our first step?  "
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
L’Chandal, The Crucible
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 10:55 AM  

The Curator's hand snapped out to stop Erik's gesture.    "Nono...  Mind the pages.  The Perdition has a mind of its own..."    He pried his hand away, as if trying to stop a child from reaching into a cage holding a wild animal.    "The Great Library has already been destroyed. The Librarian was trying to teach you how to command two Passages at once, that being the Library, and your First Passage. With the Library gone, Ashurbanipal has resorted to its weakest state. It is now only the First Passage. It will take an ungodly effort to rebuild the Library again, so we should abandon that for now."    He released his hold after he was satisfied he had made his point.

   "We will need to save what few resources we have left to invest into your Aspect. You cannot be allowed to leave the Passage again,  physically  I mean. This is the only place which you are somewhat protected and where it is difficult for outsiders to meddle. While you have the Blessing of the Lady of Passages, few things can directly intervene. Even Justices and Tellers must pay heed and cannot act carelessly. The Justices themselves would not have even been capable of forcing themselves into the Library had you not violated the laws of the Third World when you took the Key to Midnight. Your authority can be revoked or your powers diminished by Cosmic Law, but few actual beings can even interpret such things, let alone enforce it. Here few things can usurp you, so those who wish ill must seek indirect means to torment and undermine you."    Despite this 'power' or 'authority' the Curator spoke of, Erik didn't feel so great and powerful. Not after what he'd endured and certainly not now; but perhaps that had been the point.

   "Carefully. When you have prepared yourself - for battle, or worse, and only within your First Passage. You must speak aloud the name of your Kindler. Mind you, unlike us, your loyal servants... The Kindler owes no allegiance to you. It is a being which is, in simple terms, the untamed expression of Ashurbanipal. The Passage has turned against its Lord many times.  Most times  in fact.  Eventually.  This is the burden of the Lord. Much like the duty of a King to win the loyalty and trust of his people. So too must you win, and hold the loyalty of the Kindler...  for as long as you can.  You have stumbled before it once already, and the Librarian had to retrieve you. Lets hope that little  misadventure  wont cost you now."    He seemed to pause, a few smothered expressions and a grimace, as if he struggled to find a means to say what he was thinking.    "If I may speak frankly... I am  quite concerned . I cannot go with you, nor am I capable of retrieving you as the Liberian did should things go awry. Traditionally, you would have been formally introduced to the Kindler by the Librarian. It is a respectful tradition, and the Kindler does not often take warmly to new Lords. You might even say, it would be  strange  if it  didn't  try to kill you... Without the Librarian, well, it  complicates  matters. I hope you can see why this is something of a...  point of contention. "   

He groaned, leaning on the table while standing, evidently trying to think.

 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (70,270xp)     [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦   (⮸ +20xp)   
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
⬖  Blue crystal with quicksilver veins
⬖  Black glass fragment 
  ⭍ (Suspended)   Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight    
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SECRETS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※CAUTION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)
※DEATH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ DESTINY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ FATE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REALITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ BLACK  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※VOID ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※ DESTRUCTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※COURAGE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※BRAVERY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ OTHERWORLD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SALVATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ANNIHILATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ PENANCE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ASTRAY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SEALS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ WORLDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CORRUPTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SLAIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ DIVERGED  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WONDER  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ MOTIVES  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KEY-BEARER  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURIOUS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KNOWLEDGE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
Stevesciguy
   
  Right. Time for action, then.  

After years of stagnance, Erik admitted to himself that the prospect of forward motion was enticing. Perhaps he was moving toward doom, but it was better than waiting for it to come to him.

"  I would ask that you  always  speak frankly, Curator. Your concerns are well founded, and it's my duty to hear them as much as it is yours to speak them. But it seems I've left us with little other choice. We can only hope I'm up to it.  "

He began to go through the routine of checking his equipment, long since become muscle memory.

"  First. Do you know anything about my part of the usual introduction? The closer I can keep things to the norm, the more likely it is I can avoid any sort of altercation. Slim as the odds may be, it's worth a shot.  "

He checked through the straps on his armor, ensuring they were tight enough to secure the components properly but not so tight as to restrict his movements.

"  Second. It's plain to see that I'm a swordsman. But even where I hail from had its fair share of things that didn't give a damn about a sword's strike. If things come to such, how am I to defend myself? If drawing my sword would be a waste of time I need to know.  "

He checked through the bandolier that crossed his chest. He doubted he'd need anything on it and briefly considered taking it off altogether, but decided against it. It didn't encumber him meaningfully enough to negate the slim chance he may need it.

"  Third. If the Kindler does attack and I successfully defend myself, where do things end? Obviously I'm not trying to kill the Kindler - not that I could if I tried - but are there any lines I must not cross?  "

He unsheathed his sword to inspect the edges, then stopped in his tracks. He had drawn that sword he'd awoken with, seemingly made of a flower's petals. The strangest blade he'd ever laid eyes on.

"  ...and if you happen to know anything about  this , that would help.  "
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
L’Chandal, The Crucible
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 11:04 AM  

The Curator stared blankly at Erik, not watching his motions or efforts to prepare, but through him. He blinked slowly.    "Oh... You're  serious? "    Luntis seemed to be held by a cloud of stunned disbelief.    "I applaude your mettle, but I believe your approach might be a tad-bit...  mundane  for this foe."    He sighed heavily,    "I will be frank. I don't believe you currently have the means to defend yourself, but that's not even the  crux  of this problem... More importantly, even if you could  somehow,  Fight your way out. All of your ability to utilize the facilities of Ashurbanipal, exercise your Lordly powers... Or,  hell,  even continuing to exist, are all within the Keeper's hands. You don't even understand just how humble, how  insignificant , are the roots of your origins. You are not even as robust as a normal mortal man,  a human man.  You are a product of a World Veil. A host. You can only continue to exist while your life-essence remains tethered to a  'Perpetual Essence'.  Some manner of persistent energy which can define an expression for your life-essence. The Passage which allows the Veil, within which you were created, to exist - belongs to Ashurbanipal. Your title as Lord,  belongs to Ashurbanipal... "   

He tilted his head, exasperated,    " She can dismiss both.  Do you see the problem yet? A sword cannot deter the Kindler, in the same way it cannot deter time... Surely, within your own world you have seen other mortals spontaneously crumple into dust. Perhaps, friends. Or partners. This is not  normal  behavior. When a Host becomes untethered from the bonds of their Perpetual Essence, it is similar to what might happen if an  actual  human-being might be separated completely from their Fate - without replacement. You are destroyed utterly. This phenomenon of separating a living thing from all Fates is called  Severance.  It is something to be feared."   

Luntis' gaze lowered to the white crystalline of the petal-blade. His chin touched his chest and his eyes grew wide.    "Now  that  is curious...   That should not exist here.  "   
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (70,310xp)     [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦   (⮸ +40xp)   
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
⬖  Blue crystal with quicksilver veins
⬖  Black glass fragment 
  ⭍ (Suspended)   Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight    
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SECRETS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※CAUTION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)
※DEATH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ DESTINY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ FATE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REALITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ BLACK  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※VOID ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※ DESTRUCTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ COURAGE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※BRAVERY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ OTHERWORLD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SALVATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ANNIHILATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ PENANCE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ASTRAY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SEALS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ WORLDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CORRUPTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SLAIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ DIVERGED  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WONDER  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ MOTIVES  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KEY-BEARER  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURIOUS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KNOWLEDGE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
Stevesciguy
   

The Curator's reaction to his initial questions didn't interrupt Erik's routine. Useless the physical actions may be, they were still useful for achieving a certain mindset. Someone with a more spiritual bent than Erik might have called it meditative.

"  Partially serious. I was hoping you would say that it really were that simple for once, but I expected something closer to what you described. Though admittedly I still underestimated just how outclassed I'd be.  Not as though I've ever been asked to confront the living manifestation of an entire plane before...   "

With the Curator's wide-eyed reaction to the sword, however, Erik instantly snapped out of his routine. Quickly but gently placing the blade on the table before them, he stepped back like it was a snake rattling its tail.

"  ...but I wasn't expecting that. What have I been carrying on my hip, Curator?  "

Erik had already seen a gamut of emotions and reactions from the Curator but through them all had been a sense of  control . The Curator had seemed aware of his duties and confident in his ability to execute them. Anything that could  surprise  the man was cause for concern.

"  I awoke with it in... a place I could only describe as  between . Right after I took Ashurbanipal's key. Glass chains endlessly reaching into a white void. Glowing vines of ivy. Memories that aren't mine...  "

Looking at the sword again brought it all flooding back. How far he was from home, cold that home may have been. How much he'd left behind, though the memories were so tangled he sometimes couldn't be sure he knew which reality it was he walked away from. Even after having been locked away by godlike witches and being shunted into another reality, that moment was still by far the most turbulent experience he'd had in his life. A writhing mass of confusion that sat in the depths of his skull.
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
L’Chandal, The Crucible
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 11:10 AM  

The young man's eyes narrowed, his gaze fixated upon the weapon with a sour expression Erik couldn't quite understand.    "There are many kinds of Memory Weapons, my Lord. Which, is what this is.  Was...  However, this is like none of them. Of that, you can be sure..."    His head turned and his eyes were the last to leave the weapon, pried away to turn their attention towards himself. The Curator's hand firmly grabbed him by his armored shoulder,  he was stronger than he looked.     " Memories?  Here me now, Lord Ragnok. I need you to be absolutely clear.  What did you see?  I need to know,  everything , in painful detail... Because  that- "    He snapped a pointed finger at the table before beginning to unbutton his own overcoat, tossing it offhandedly over the blade, covering it from sight.    " That  should not be here. Nay, It  cannot  be here. It's fundamentally  impossible  in this world."   

His expression was frustrated and confused, but Erik could feel something deeper in his expressive tone.  He was scared.  Of what, he couldn't even begin to guess, but it certainly did not bode well.    "As grateful as I am at your  willingness  for personal risk to face these challenges. The Kindler. The Teller, the debt.  All of that.  It suddenly becomes  very  insignificant before this enigma you've just dropped on my table..."   
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (70,340xp)     [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦   (⮸ +30xp)   
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
⬖  Blue crystal with quicksilver veins
⬖  Black glass fragment 
  ⭍ (Suspended)   Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight    
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SECRETS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CAUTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DEATH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ DESTINY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ FATE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REALITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ BLACK  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※VOID ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※ DESTRUCTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ COURAGE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※BRAVERY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SALVATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ANNIHILATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ PENANCE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ASTRAY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SEALS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ WORLDS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CORRUPTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SLAIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ DIVERGED  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WONDER  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ MOTIVES  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KEY-BEARER  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURIOUS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KNOWLEDGE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
Stevesciguy
   

Those words sent a chill down Erik's spine. Anything that could surprise the Curator was cause for concern. Anything that could  scare  the Curator was incalculable in its potential danger.

He spared the now covered sword another glance, then looked toward Luntis.

"  You may want a seat, Curator. The story starts at the very beginning of the events that brought me here - my first imprisonment on my home plane. And it ends when I accepted the key that imprisoned me for the second time.  "

Erik pulled over his own chair, sitting and thinking for a moment on how to start.

"  I was given a sentence in a location called Willowbrook Sanitarium for an... uncharacteristic outburst. The history behind that outburst is long and irrelevant - one man's tragedy among many. I start here because the memories diverge this early. In the first set of memories - I'm inclined to call this the "true" sequence of events, though with what little I know now, they may both be true in their own sense - I was imprisoned for only a few short months. In the second, I was there for four grueling years, slowly decaying, not truly alive but unable to die, clinging to the barest threads of sanity. Even if the first sequence is the "truth" I seem to have aged according to the second.  "

"  Here the two briefly reunite. I was approached by- we'll call her the Warden for brevity. Offering freedom for service. It wasn't a choice. In the first sequence, we were lead outside. Our service was to be the exploration of Willowbrook itself, the grounds beginning to fall into the first stages of corruption. In the second sequence I simply awoke some time later in an already heavily corrupted and twisted Willowbrook. From this point on, this second sequence, surviving in and escaping from Willowbrook, is what makes up my primary memories. The details of the first sequence were only returned to me in the moments leading up to and after taking Ashurbanipal's key.  "

The twisted and flipped halls of Willowbrook flashed their way through Erik's mind as he recalled the events. They were real, he was certain. But in what sense he was unsure he'd ever know. He walked through them step by step.  What came next?  Erik answered his own question aloud.

"  A mad scramble through Willowbrook's halls. A massive, blackened hand turn the entire place on its side. We were climbing up what used to be the floor. Unnatural black water flowing in from Hells-knows-where. A crimson void devouring the place from the bottom up. Voices from half-recognized names. Cross, Mayvert, Elborogh.  "

"  We made our way to the blade of a sword embedded in the ground, glowing with emerald light. A gate of some kind, according to one of the voices. Through it we encountered Kaslin Crowe, a young but highly skilled swordswoman who had disappeared at the beginning of the Long Night, though her face was obscured by a blackness, like someone had scratched her out of a painting. Though she was sane, she was muttering some initially incomprehensible words about "last time" and that she "couldn't remember what happened before the end." I'd come to understand later.  "

"  We were being pursued by a Veilbeast, or nightmare beast as Crowe called it, known as- maybe I shouldn't say the name. According to Crowe even looking at it was dangerous. When it appeared, she threw me out of the room and tried to hold it off herself grabbing hold of the chains that bound it and dragging it away. Not sure why.  "

He wondered if he'd ever know why she risked her life for two men she didn't know. He doubted it.

"  Another mad scrabble away from the beast. Wading waste deep in icy, blackened water through a room filled with equipment I didn't recognize. I stumbled across these-  "

Here Erik stood up and walked over to his pack, fishing out the variety of strange objects he'd acquired during the dash. He laid them out on the table next to the covered sword - the glass restraints, metal lancet, and the shards of black obsidian and blue silver-laced crystal.

"  I don't know what compelled me to pick them up in the first place, or if they're even relevant, but you asked for every detail.  "

He sat back down in his seat, pressing his fingers to his eyes as he remembered what came next.

"  Crowe came crashing through the room. Sent through the air and half-embedded in the wall by a strike from the beast. It didn't kill her. She began pleading to something. "Just one more time." She changed, became something else. She struck. Reality went to pieces. I couldn't tell you what I was looking at. The kid- our other Reclaimer. I think he saw more in that than I did. She collapsed reality on top of that beast. We heard it again a moment later. She only pissed it off.  "

"  As everything began to Collapse and the beast crawled back out of the abyss Crowe had created, my vision went black. The memories had started to break in. I heard a woman's voice apologizing. Fragmented scenes started flitting through the void. People, places, feelings, scenes that I should have remembered but couldn't. Then a single frame of a woman, face obscured. And a name - Ressa - hammering in the back of my head.  "

"  Even now I can feel those little fragments of memory floating around the edges of my mind. With a bit of effort I can open them up, pluck information out of thin air. More on that later.  "

"  When the black had cleared, there was another man in the corridor. I could recognize the voice. Elborogh, holding the key to Ashurbanipal in a pair of forceps. Telling me to take the key. That I had to go back. To wake up.  "

"  In the moment before I took the key,  I understood what Crowe had been talking about. The knowledge simply welled up from somewhere. I had risen and fallen countless times. Some cycle I had been trapped in. As I took the key, Eldborogh's voice came from all around, as though Willowbrook itself was speaking. Maybe it was.  "

Erik nodded toward the table.

"  Then I woke up with the sword. The other Reclaimer was there too, climbing up the glass chain. I was climbing up the glowing white ivy. That name hammered in my head again until something more came. Ressa Crawsford. Below I could see the moment where I took the key. We began to climb. The pieces of memories came in earnest. Years worth of them, half obscured and fractured.  "

"  Finally, the pieces of the first sequence came back, fully formed. The Crawsfords were involved in the excursion, but the significance of Ressa I still don't know. If there even is any.  "

"  As we climbed, a new voice. Speaking in poetry, almost.  "

Erik thought he'd struggle to remember the precise wording, but the experience was so seared into his mind they came as if he'd heard them just yesterday.

"  'To those who slept.
To those who rested, deeply in their death-slumber.
This prison was their home.

Hopelessness caressed them, and rocked them gently.
The cries of the crippled and the wronged,
were lulls unto their rest.

When they stirred and wept
From nightmare, grim and foul.
She whispered down to them,
Every curse and blight.

They were the Mindless.
The Soulless.
The fakes mirroring nothing.
Freely she passed them,
From hand to hand.
The toys of some evil will,
And this game was not their own.

Damned are her children,
Those who rest forever.
Their screams shook me,
From behind the blinding curtain.

And their eulogies sang me to sleep.'  "

Erik sat in silence for a moment. Some part of him was certain he should've known that voice, combing through his memories to find it. He started up again unceremoniously.

"  We kept climbing. For how long, I couldn't say. The flashes of memories got more frequent, the light above was so intense we couldn't look up. Below us was the Library. As it was before the Justices turned it into  this . As we crossed through the light, the Librarian was there, congratulating us, before sending us back. He called us that same word you did.  Hosts .  "

"  We woke in Willowbrook. Several others were there, most I didn't recognize. Crowe was there again, now taller than even myself and with stark white hair. They were struggling to hold the door shut, amid the incessant ringing of bells. I wasn't in control. My body moved of its own accord and I could only watch through my eyes.  "

"  And we woke again. The bells were gone. It was almost eerily calm. I was in control of my limbs again. We were in the Stasis.  "

"  Things get simpler from here. No muddied memories to unravel. In the Stasis there were four of us. Myself, the kid, the Witch, and an elvish woman named Sparrow. Sparrow explained that the surveyors had discovered a dead space within the corruption of Willowbrook, a place that physical creatures couldn't enter or exit. With the assistance of the Witch standing before us, we sent our minds into the space.  "

"  That space was a prison, according to Sparrow. A prison for what, I never got the chance to ask.  "

Another moment of silence.  Erik didn't like to relive his mistakes.  No one did.

"  I questioned the Witch. Looked too close at that void around her. Got pulled in like a damned fish. Across... beyond  everything . To a door. Eyes in front of it, looking at me. Maybe through me.  "

He instinctively flexed his left hand. The phantom pain of the cold searing through his palm again.

"  I crashed back into my own body with the drop I had unwittingly taken. The Witch sicced two creatures on me, her cackling nearly shattering my mind completely. From my blackened hand came a thin black line, headed straight through the black door. Wrong as it was to leave them, I'd made my choice even before my error. So through the black door I went. The kid followed. I suppose Sparrow must have chosen the white door.  "

"  And into Ashurbanipal I stepped. Or was thrown, more accurately. Whatever force controlled those portals was sentient enough to disapprove of my crime as much as anything else. Then we were brought to the Teller and Librarian, mid argument on damages caused to the Library. The Librarian set my mind straight again and we had a few minutes to discuss our predicament, and what our path might be.  "

"  During those talks I concentrated on the black line tracing out from the hole in my blackened hand, and my mind was vaulted across reality once again. I found myself in a city made of glass and metal, with buildings taller than anything I'd seen. They were in ruins, the ground split by blackened cracks, everything frozen in time. In the center was a vortex made of strange shapes, in front of which was a facsimile of Crowe. Couldn't tell you why it chose her to mimic.  "

"  I reached out toward her, and as pieces of the black flaked off my arm the city repaired itself, pieces snapping back together like a child's puzzle. As the last of it left and my arm was restored to normal, the city began to move again. Everything went dark.  "

"  Once more I woke up. This time in a cottage laid up injured in bed, a decade younger, with a woman who I felt I recognized but couldn't look at humming to herself at my bedside. She was reading a large tome, gold inlay naming it...  Novella Orcus? Orphus?   "

Erik shook his head. He could picture the golden inlay but he couldn't settle on an exact form. He could only hope it was close enough.

"  The sword,  " gesturing to the table, "  was there, above the cottage's mantle. I had just gotten my bearings when the Primarch appeared, informing me the woman couldn't hear me. I asked where I was and began to sift through those memories at the edges of my mind, only to watch a spark jump from my chest to her knitting needles.  She was the source.  Needless to say I haven't used it again since I took the key. I assumed at first that this was why I ended up there. I was wrong.  "

"  When I asked how I'd arrived there, instead of answering directly, she asked aloud who brought me here.. The woman at my bedside answered in the negative, then more people began to appear. Myself, holding an infant. A woman and a young child named Alicia. The Whispering Witch. Another whose face I couldn't look upon, an older man who told me we would meet again "before the end." A child with a voice like a raging storm. All answered in the negative.  "

"  Finally from behind the Primarch's seat came a young woman with white hair. Uma Oparz was her name. She claimed to have brought me to the Midnight Between so I wouldn't forget everything, as thanks. She was in Willowbrook with us - in the prison, according to the Primarch. What she was thanking me  for ... lost with everything else.  "

"  From there, the rest is simple. She goaded me into taking her key, even after she told me that if I were wise I'd have walked away and forgot it existed.I awoke back in the Ashurbanipal. The Librarian shared some justifiably frustrated words with me and then took me to the Book to try and salvage the situation. The Justices reduced Ashurbanipal to this and you know the rest.  "

Erik leaned back into his seat as he finished the tale. Two missteps. One, if you considered that the second only came about because of the first. That was all it took to cost him so much.

 
 Spoiler: OoC 
wowee that was long

Let's roll on that voice from the end of the tutorial

Throw it all at the wall and see what sticks
Knowledge(Local):  (1d20+7)[ 19 ] 
Knowledge(Nobility):  (1d20+7)[ 13 ] 
Knowledge(Religion):  (1d20+7)[ 20 ] 
 
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

The teeth were an endless wave of torment, each bite shearing down his form and threatening to completely remove his existence. The once flowing shadows of Miryks's form were replaced by a sea of cruel white grins. Was he truly the fool he thought he was? Had he delivered himself to this fate, an all too insignificant morsel in the face of their unending hunger?

Even as his form shrunk to a mere husk of a blackened void, Miryks could feel his mind racing. Thoughts returned to him as the pain became unfocused, almost as if this fate was befalling another. He concentrated on the cruel  *snap*  of each jaw closing on his final fragments to give his mind a chance to bury itself in anything else than his rapidly approaching death. So focused was Miryks on the sound he almost missed the light. Two small motes pierced the darkness of his form, swirling around until suffusing with his core. The lights carved twin tracts into him, threatening to finish the job the mouths started. As they ate away at him with a quickness even the mouths hadn't had, Miryks realized his shadow was as eager to consume the light as they were him.   A fool's luck..  

With a wordless scream, Miryks flexed the little shadow he had left and buried both lights deep within his being. Twin stabs of pain were his only reward, then the lights exploded in his mind. His awareness expanded, Miryks reeling at the flood of information forcing its way into his thoughts. He realized just how close he just came to dying, and there was no promise that death   -or worse   wasn't waiting to claim him still. The clacking of teeth pierced his ears, the jaws refusing to be far from his thoughts, the sound cascading over him in a dull roar.

All he could do know was cast his senses deep into their number and hope he was the right kind of fool. The end was coming, whether he outlasted their hunger or not.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
 Knowledge Religion  - (1d20+8)[ 20 ] Ehv'cah'Sath
  Knowledge Arcana  - (1d20+8)[ 10 ]  E'Spdon Valdruk
  Perception  - (1d20+19)[ 37 ] 
 
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
L’Chandal, The Crucible
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 12:41 AM  

Luntis sat quietly, listening attentively to Erik's every word. His face shifted expressions numerous times as the grizzled man recounted the chapters of his lengthy trails. Curiosity. Confusion, then alarm. His eyes locked onto the foreign artifacts Erik dug out from his pack, as if he were surprised such a thing could fit in there. The grand reveal made the young man visibly flinch, as if he'd just pulled a rabbit out of a hat. His visage darkened as the tale continued, but he did not interrupt. The Curator merely interlaced his fingers, resting his elbows in his lap. As he concluded the events which led to him claiming the Key to Midnight, the Curator's forehead lay upon his knuckles, obscuring his face.

When he finished, there was a pause.  A long pause.  Luntis used a sleeve to wipe his face dry. Evidently perturbed by many of the details. His voice was horse and strained, but his words were clear.     "We have to seal the Library."     He stood from his chair. There was a grieving sorrow etched on his face, but also a sense of conviction.    "That is  quite  the tale, Lord Ragnok. I understand now. Nothing you have experienced has been explained to you;  to our peril.  I mean to  remedy  that - but first we must seal the Passage. Everything has changed now. Our concern is no longer with the Teller. Perhaps not even with the  Key to Midnight ."   

The Curator begun moving around the table gathering all of the books, stacking them up and placing them within the modest messenger's bag he had wore under the coat he'd just removed. The tomes fit weightlessly within the twill container - likely a dimensional pocket of some sort.    "Recall, what I said regarding a  'Perpetual Essence' . This applies towards things like Planes, Passages and even Worlds as well. You have already experienced a Collapse. This is the expected result when a Plane, Passage or similar slice of reality has been exposed to a Severance-effect. The introduction of a Passage acts as this  'Perpetual Essence' , but for other worlds. Bringing stability and safety to the denizens who dwell there. This is the duty of the Lord of Passages. Traditionally, the First Passage of Ashurbanipal resides in the mythic realm of  L'Chandal . Where we currently reside. Few beings of the Second World have ever come here, or even believe this realm might exist. The First Passage ensures the integrity of L'Chandal and prevents it from suffering any
damage beyond repair, as it is the most powerful, and the most stable of all our Passages -  That ends now. "     The Curator's eyes burned with a cold seething fire,    " Let it burn if it will.  We must move the First Passage into the World Veil from which you came. It  cannot  be allowed to fall.  Not yet. "   

Offhandedly the Curator looked at the palm of his left hand. A series of alien numerals flashed in quick succession. Though Erik
did not know the symbols he understood their values; 2-3-3-5.    "You've acquired some Fragments.  Good . We'll likely be spending all of it. If we are in need of more we will trade those tokens you recovered. They are  World Shards  of Quatrek V'dre; you can speak the name here.  Only here.  A safe practice for all of the mythic realms. It is the realm which all souls are forged. It was destroyed once by the meddling of two beings long ago, named  Astrok'ru  and  Nelrin'fel . They may have business with Ashurbanipal in the future. The first is a conniving plotter and the other is a dangerous lying fool.  Do not readily entreat with either ."    As the Curator gathered the last of his books, he
moved back toward the table, retrieving his coat from the sword.

   " Gather your things.  With the sword at our disposal, I can come with you into the Zek'Taur Passage to meet with the Kindler. As long as we have the blade, she can pose no threat. You've cheated a  lifetime  of efforts as Lord, I intend to fully leverage that advantage. First, we will move the Passage. You've inadvertently frozen the whole of reality for your Veil, just as your life had been frozen in the moment before you woke in the ivy above.  Fortunately,  that had also made the Veil neigh inaccessible. It is best if we rectify that post-haste. After we have secured the World's safety, we can take time to fully...  digest  this madness."   

The Curator halted mid-step before turning back to Erik.    "I must clarify though..."    The blank look on his face made it appear as if he'd just forgotten something important, than remembered what it was.    " Be aware...  We will certainly garner the ire of  many  for what we are about to do. You  must  understand this context. This is effectively... What would amount to  blackmail...  But on a  cosmic  scale. You  will  be betraying all of the Second World, minus a handful of rare Otherworlds. I'm sure the Justices' of Kathe will  vehemently  regret letting you go as they did. But regardless, there will be little recourse. They cannot simply be rid of you. They could have done so before, but not  after.  Their fates will be sealed. Nor can the Lord of Passages be directly  compelled  to relocate his Passage where it would be convenient for others."   

Erik was beginning to understand and felt a sense of unease.  They were about to do something uncouth and drastic.  At the very least this time the action would be intentional and targeted, nor would it be done without knowing what would be at stake.    By removing yourself, you leave those under your protection once again vulnerable to the wiles of Witches, Nightmares and far worse, with whatever horrors may yet linger throughout the Second World. Many will likely cause  damages  they would expect to be mended without consequence -  only to discover this is no longer the case . This privilege has been long abused. So much so it has now been assumed to be a natural right, with only  scorn  shared towards the Great Library; as  evident  by the Justices' actions. The  pompous callousness  of most of the inhabitants of the Second World stems from this sense of  invincibility  we have granted them. While you are spurned as the Lord of Ashurbanipal, it was the  grace  of  your predecessors  which granted these protections and allowed for the renaissance, known as the  Spring of Magic . All of the magical races of this universe could refine the practice of the arcane openly and without fear. They created larger, more grand magics without worry of the damage it might cause, or the instability that wielding such large amounts of energy could usher. After so many centuries, many are not even  aware  of this basic principle..."   
   There is  little  which can be done to stop us. Make them kneel.  Make them beg.  Make them offer gifts and payment for your favor.  Remind them.  This was how the Great Library was  built . It will be so once again. L'Chandal presides over all of the Second World planes beneath it. We can  sell  this protection individually to the lower realms instead. All the while protecting the Veil in the meantime. It might give us a believable guise to  disguise  our true intentions.  Providing us valuable time.  By collecting such offerings we could,  technically , pay our debt and rebuild the Library.  Not in that order.  Of course, I have no intention to actually  pay anything earnestly.  It will be far too late before our intentions are revealed. We will have ample time to build proper fortifications, gather allies and...  make things right . But we can speak more on this later."    The Curator took one final look over the room as if to make sure he didn't forget anything before leaving on a trip.    "Ah, it is also important to known as the Archivist of Ashurbanipal, I command all of the knowledge of the Great Library... Or I  would , had it not been destroyed. Regardless, with enough Fragments and the correct tomes, I can consort the volumes we have available which may shed some light - even upon matters outside of our own reality. Like those names and faces which still plague you.  Food for thought. "    

He dug into his bag producing a thick waxed poncho of exceptional quality. Its hems were delicately embroidered with tasteful decorative leaves and scrollwork. He carefully buttoned the thick waterproof garment and donned the large cowl.    "You  already  possess the ability to move into Zek'taur at will. Simply speak the name when you are ready -  you know the one. "    Though he had never heard it before, nor had it even been spoken to him. Erik knew the Kindler's name. The name which would allow him to access the First Passage.  The name of the sword.  Unlike those distant muddled memories which scratched at the edge of his mind, this was present, and perfect and clear. She was the Kindler of Zek'Taur, the First Passage. The Light of the Passage.   Afalloch  .


He sharply raised a finger to interrupt himself
   "Ah, but do keep the sword  aloft . It's  meaningless  if she can't see it, yes?"   
He paused before adding,    "...And, hold your breath."   
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (70,590xp)     [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦   (⮸ +90xp), (⮸ +55xp) - The Sword, (⮸ +105xp) - The Kindler   
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
 ⬖  Greater World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)
⬖  Lesser World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)  
 ⭍ (Suspended)   Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight   
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SECRETS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CAUTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DEATH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ DESTINY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ FATE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REALITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ BLACK  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※VOID ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※ DESTRUCTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ COURAGE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※BRAVERY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SALVATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ANNIHILATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ PENANCE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ASTRAY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SEALS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WORLDS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CORRUPTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SLAIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ DIVERGED  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WONDER  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ MOTIVES  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KEY-BEARER  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURIOUS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KNOWLEDGE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
Mornings
      
  The Painter of the Tempest  
Miryks' consciousness throbbed and raced, trying to make make some sense of it all. Trying to fight through it. He grew smaller with each passing moment. The swarm churned around him like ravenous piranha's. Snapping, ripping and tearing. Then with a final rattling  snap.  He was gone. Consumed by the hungering darkness until nothing was left.  Darkness. 

Formless, his mind drifted, joining the shapeless black swell of the great nothingness stretching out before him.     "Consumed by the Black. Yet still, you persist...  Very well. "     Miryks did not understand the dream, nor its denizens, but his mind was gone now. He had been eaten alive by some abominable thing, leaving only this new keenness of thought. E'Spdon Valdruk was another of the Nightmare Worlds. A horrid and dreadful place ruled by a race of paramortal beings born from the Dream and woven spells; Nightmare Witches. These beings preyed upon his kind. Treating the beasts of these worlds as tools, resources or sport. Many of their kind lived enslaved and toiling for their ilk, compelled by unspeakable magics. They were foes of his kind. The loyal subjects of the Nightmare King.  [Miryks: Knowledge (Arcana) - Partial] 

There were many Dreamgods. Most were faceless. Nameless or forgotten to all but the most devout. Their names were sewn into the hems of Saintly robes and whispered upon the fleshless lips of their abhorrent congregations. Yet, the most dreadful and fair was She. The Dark Coil. The Lady Night. The Nightmare Goddess.  Ehv'cah-Sath, Who Became All Nightmare Of Kings . Great and terrible. Venerated and loved by every horror, terror and nightmare undreamt. The Nightmare of Kings loomed above the Worlds as the symbol of their resistance, the idol of their seething hatred and architect of their rebellion. Her words were the inciteful itch in their very minds desiring to be free.  [Miryks: Knowledge (Religion) - Partial] 

He drifted on in darkness as an impossible weight crushed down from all around him, yet still he did not break.     "To consume your own light.  Such novelty...  I wonder how much remains..."     The voice trailed off as he drifted through the endless black screen before him. The pressure mounted. He swirled in the storm as if picked up some invisible waves in the lightless abyss. Churning in a vortex he could not see. He could not measure the measure the time. Tens of thousands of seconds at least. After a mute moment which stretched on for days, there was a stillness. He no longer moved, and there he remained crushed beneath an indescribable weight which devoured stars and sound within its horrible black well. Then, through the quiet, a sound finally echoed in his thoughts. A gnashing like teeth. A wet slapping of hands. The clamorous sounds begun to rise with thousands of notes.  A ghastly Applause.      "Blessed be the First-Taken. Though it is but your  first  trial. You have done well. Go now,  in Blessed Fire. "    
   
He awoke with a flickering yawn.  A flame sprung to life.  His gaze lazily shifted about the room, his mind was a dizzying torment of echoing voices and fading sounds. The crackle of the brazier filled his ears. He could feel his form, but it was airy and light. He shifted, but he was without hands. He moved, but he was without feet. He could see perfectly around himself, three-hundred and sixty degrees; a panorama of vision. It was a dimly lit stone chamber. The stones looked old but carefully maintained with the utmost care. The room was something like a long hall with braziers flanking a carpeted walkway leading to a large carved alter of dark grey crystal. It was some manner of temple. Though there were various symbols and sigils adorning the place of worship, they were not of a likeness he'd seen before. After a moment the single door on the far end of the prayer hall opened and an young woman with an eerie complexion poked her head into the room. He gaze locked with his and was filled with confusion before hastily retreating away.  [ Trait: Lesser Transfigured Insight  - The Nightmare Beast has succeeded their first Trial of Transfiguration. They may make any knowledge check as if it were Knowledge (Abstract) when it is regarding the Nightmare Worlds. This effect only applies when it would be beneficial to the Nightmare and cannot impart any ill effects associated with an Abstract-check. This trait applies no benefit when outside of the Dreamworlds, or regarding matters unrelated to the Nightmare Worlds. The Nightmare Beast gains an additional HD which may also be applied to any dream or physical forms he takes.] 

After a moment she returned with a long crooked candelabra, drifting into the room. It did not take him more than a moment to realize the young woman was not walking at all, but floating just off the floor like an apple bobbing upon a pool's surface. She wore long deep-red priestly robes and an unsettling translucent funeral veil over her face. As she approached the shade came into full view, in all her frightening glory. Gracefully, she parted the veil to either side with one hand. Her eyes were pale pupiless orbs of dead flesh and her skin was a colorless white. Her head was slightly tiled at an angle, not leaning, but simply held rigid in an unnatural position. There was no sign of decay despite the woman evidently being dead. At first he had assumed there was perhaps some magic preserving her body, but that assertion was swiftly dismissed as he noticed her entire form was ever-so-slightly transparent.  A ghost.      "Welcome... Blessed Flame. First-Taken... You are... You have... Arrived, much quicker than any before."     Her voice was soft and distant, like a whisper or a distant breeze.     "I am... the First Nightmare Kindler. I will guide you to your reward..."     To Miryks' horror, she reached up with the long candelabra to the great standing brazier and fetched  him. 
 He was the flame. 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4   (⮸ +2)   
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (8,920xp)     (⮸ +40xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ DREAMS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ CELEBRATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ RITUAL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BLACK  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※FORBIDDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※ DOOM  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ INSIGHT  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
forg99rules
 
 Stella felt her pulse quicken as her mind raced, attempting to discern the potential ramifications of her presence in the Frame. Taking a deep breath, she steadied her thoughts.   "The Frame, huh? I assume that either you or someone else is intervening to prevent me from imploding due to being this Deep,"  . Stella's mind drifted as she admired the beauty of the stars around her. Ulbeelta's words piqued her interest, as she was still very much in need of a teacher. Of course, she knew that any question would come at a cost now, although this thought triggered another inquiry.   "I would greatly love to meet her, though I lack faith in my ability to convince her. I'm uncertain who would actually be willing to teach me now that I am contemplating it. I do have one final question, pertaining to the last thing you mentioned. What kind of things would you desire? I possess little in my current form, but I did wish to offer you a Gift as a token of gratitude for all the knowledge you have shared with me... Yet, now I'm unsure whether I possess anything that I could give you that would be deemed valuable, as nearly everything in this form adheres to a mundane system. And I couldn't part with the small bit that I feel might be valuable without risking destruction."   Her mind pondered what she could present in her current form that Ulbeelta would find worthwhile. 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 29 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 16 ]  - Wondering if I might get into trouble that isn't the imploding type by being in the Frame
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 18 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 23 ]  - Curious what sort of responsibilities Ulbeelta's retainers have that he is relieving them of
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 24 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 15 ]  - Curious if Stella knows anything about Sircé, Who Dreamt The Devouring Night
 
Mornings
     
It was not a good thing to be this deep through the phases, but for the most part there were few laws regarding such things. Mostly just due to how challenging surviving such a thing was. However, after Adessa had explored the deepest depths of the Garden, certain rules within certain worlds had been set into place to prevent any repeats of her meddling. She was now as deep as she could descend without stirring up trouble with the denizens of the Third World. It was likely that she was already being watched.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Partial] 

The voices of the ancestors were strangely quiet when her thoughts moved towards Ulbeelta himself. Stella did not even know that D'Inlé had kept retainers. As far as she was aware their kind mostly only organized among themselves. With the exceptions of those like Afsppa'sol, who frequented certain circles and maintained something of a network of social contacts. Perhaps Ulbeelta was merely different than the others, but she couldn't begin to guess as to the nature of the duties one would attend to for so grand a creature.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Failure]  

Sircé had been the name of a Vet'Cnros Witch who had once frequented Duvan. Unlike their kin, she did not prescribe to the Mados or the Scion of Dark Seasons. She had instead focused her efforts towards the House of Black, though unlike the cults which worshipped the Lady Black, her research was focused on understanding the nature of the Household. The Witch had been very unpopular with her own people and inevitably departed Duvan many centuries ago. As the Witch had never been seen again, it was assumed she had either died or become a recluse. There were few ways to check, but it did not appear that her voice joined the ancestors. There was no way to know just what became of that particular Witch or if it held any meaning for the Witch Ulbeelta spoke of now.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Failure]  
    "If you doubt you are worth teaching, perhaps you should not be taught at all. If you cannot convince yourself, you will not convince others."     The great wolf completely ignored her earlier statement. Or perhaps he simply ignored any question.     "Save your gifts. If you do not possess the words to win the hearts of others, then what finite resources you have would be better better spent to hire your aid instead. Sircé was fond of such things."    
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 3/6 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮟  Spite : 1 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
 ⮯  Corrupted Fate  (Ra'Dolfaal)  
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (218,020xp)   (⮸ +20),   
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※SOVEREIGNTY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※NOBILITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ DISCOVERY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※VEIL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※EVIL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)
※MEMORY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)
※ WORLDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FAITH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ ANCESTORS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ORIGIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DIVINITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※LEGENDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※PAST-LIFE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※REINCARNATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※CASTING TRADITION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
 

     
Stevesciguy
   

Erik stared unblinking at the Curator for a long moment. If he understood correctly, this would, at a minimum, completely change how magic worked in these realms he had only just become acquainted with, likely causing incalculable chaos in the transitory period. And beyond that... he couldn't even begin to guess.

He broke the stare and stepped toward the table, shuffling his things back into his pack and shouldering it. He gave Luntis another sidelong glance. Those burning eyes. The way he had said "make them beg." In the short time he'd known him, the Curator had been calm and amicable. But in that moment... he'd seemed almost  bloodthirsty .

"  I hope you understand how much trust I have to put in you right now, Curator. What  are  we about to do?  "

With a hesitant hand, he grasped the sword's hilt, slowly bringing it up to chest level and supporting the tip with his offhand. It felt heavier now.  It had seemed so insignificant.  Masterful craftsmanship and blatantly magical to be sure, but no more an extension of his will than any other blade. Even now it seemed almost mundane. But the import of this sword apparently surpassed even the Key to Midnight. The Curator hadn't seen fit, or had the time, to elaborate yet. What had so unceremoniously been placed in his hands?

"   Nothing for it then.   "

He pictured that place he had visited so briefly.  Zek'taur.  "Beneath the waves" the Librarian had called it. He took a deep breath. Just one word.

"   Afalloch.   "

 
 Spoiler: OoC 
Sense Motive on Luntis there. That really was concerning lol

Sense Motive:  (1d20+13)[ 15 ] 
 
Mornings
     
   " We  are about to make  history , my Lord."    The man's disposition had evidently differed from his previous collected character. It was as if something in his recounted tale had  changed  him, or perhaps reignited something very old. Something forgotten.  Buried deep.  Erik had seen a similar change many times before. In the old retired veterans whom had been called back to service. Silvered-men who had laid down their swords many decades ago. Raised families. Fathered businesses and enterprises. Men who had placed many chapters of their life after those brief decades of military services during their younger years;  wilder years . But you could not breed the devil out of a wolf,  and these men were wolves.  No matter how many years passed. No matter who's grandfather they were. When steel kissed their palms, they were soldiers again. Stern-jawed. Iron-eyed  killers.  Luntis was not being dramatic with his phrasing.  Everything might change.  Something he had spoken had called him back to service.  Called him back to war.  With who, and for what, he could not even begin to guess - but it was now his fight to be had as well. There were greater things at stake. Things he could not yet even comprehend. Though he tried not to wear it on his sleeve, he could see the Curator knew it too, and the wordless grief etched under his eyes was the most tired, worrisome stare he'd ever seen.  [Erik: Sense Motive - Success] 

As Erik reclaimed his sword the Curator fished out an unusually large umbrella from his bag. A parasol of the size which might be mounted at a table or staked to the ground at some noble's fairgrounds picnic.  Erik spoke the name.  Immediately, the western wall of the world exploded down as a crushing waterfall of dark water surged into the chamber. The Curator snapped open his umbrella, deflecting the stream, sending it crashing into Erik, bowling him over with its violent force. The gesture was inadvertent, but the Curator pretended not to notice the blunder.    "The denizens of the Second World have grown fat and corrupt. Glutting themselves upon our grace. Knowing neither humility nor appreciation for our charitability. We  built  the Great Library upon the woes of such men. Ushering a Golden Age of stability, prosperity and knowledge for all mortal-kind. The greed. The savagery.  The depravity.  All of these things we have allowed to  fester.  This is the source of this rot. This blight.  This corruption.  Had we not been complicit, none would have been made to suffer so.  We remedy that now. "    The Curator's words were harshly driven. Like a speech delivered from some dictator's pulpit. Walls from high above in the darkness broke as well, releasing massive waterfalls towering hundreds of feet into the air. Erik could feel a cold grimace of recognition. The familiarity of these great gouts of water. They were very much like those upon that dais he had awoken, surrounded by the alarm of countless bells. Instead of the ringing chimes, instead came a terrible howling  scream .

   "Oh... Well, she certainly must not be happy with your prior,  expedited retreat... "    The shout sounded like many women's' voices of every age. Children and maiden's, howling abreast to ancient haggard shrieking crones. The sound carried with it invisible force, lashing out like the crack of a whip as walls of water buffeted him. Suddenly, the room collapsed with a dull mute,  fooph.  Quietly. Undramatically. They were swept beneath the silent tides of a black sea.

   
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
Zek'taur, The First Passage
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 13:01 AM  

Falling. Spinning. Swept away in a raging torrent of tainted water. The salt stung his eyes and grains of sediment  nipped at his skin. He held his breath as he was forcefully ripped from left to right unnaturally. Though there was no natural light which could penetrate the pitch black waves, though some new sense, he could  'see'  as his consciousness stretched out before him. The sharp currents tugged at him like children's hands, with enough force to cast him across great spans. He struggled and thrashed as minutes bled by and his face turned blue, spending precious moments merely being thrown back and forth before finally being catapulted through a barrier of water of a varied density. Like a mirror, he crashed through, gasping for air.  He could breathe. 

Suspended, as if floating in a familiar great ocean with two faces. He could watch the surface glinting, reflecting some impossible sun both above and below. Further below, his gaze met that of the Curator patiently awaiting. As he sunk down, the man gestured, reminding him to keep his sword raised. Far in the distance, within the darkness between both worlds and the ceaseless churn of the waves, something lurked. Once again, his gaze adjusted to the gloomy light revealing two rows of infinite doors flanking him on either side. Doors without walls from which they might be mounted. A path of ripping faded distortions, like spilled oil upon rain-slick stonework marked where a floor might have existed. Once again, Erik witnessed the eerie beasts which dwelled here. Bones of aquatic animals, glassy and transparent, disjoined but bound together as if by some invisible magical compulsion. Great serpents made of fleshless skeletal ribs coiled like titans, thundering in the deep. He could not see their ends despite their winding bodies. They twisted for countless miles with necks thick enough for forty strong men to struggle circling it with joined hands. Yet, not all was rotting. Some fish swam about, whole and living. Perhaps it was not that nothing lived here,  but that nothing died. 
  COWARD!   The words were not spoken, but projected directly though his very being, like a burning nail driven directly though his eye. The excruciating pain nearly made him swoon.   YOU ABANDONED ME! AGAIN!   A second nail. Another crippling pain. For a brief moment, the sickening agony blurred his vision.    "Cease this! You are in the presence of Lord Ragnok, the-"      I DON'T CARE!   There was a chill and frigid wave pulsing through the water,   You should not have come.      "W-Wait a moment!"    Luntis frantically gestured to lift the sword up.  [Erik: Fortitude Save (DC 15) Vs 5d4 Wisdom Damage] 

It was the first time Erik had ever gotten a clear look at the Kindler. Floating. Surrounded by a school of glittering fish. She was cloaked in a long flowing crimson robe tied over a white thora and frock. Her pale diminutive stature looked like that of a dead child left beneath the waves. Unlike last time, Erik's view was not obscured by the writhing black lines nor disrupted by the suddenness of his visit. Her robes were animated with impossibly detailed embroidered threadwork. The stark white lines stirred in a storm of motions. Depicting scenes like the frames of a film. Other parts of the garment spun with scenes of fish and other ocean creatures. One such picture peeled itself right off from her dress, becoming the very thing it illustrated, swimming off to join the dense schools of aquatic animals.  This was Afalloch.  Kindler of the First Passage.

Her hands were pressed against her face, as if brought to grieving tears.
 She was not looking at them. 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (70,660xp)     [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦   (⮸ +70xp)   
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
 ⬖  Greater World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)
⬖  Lesser World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)  
 ⭍ (Suspended)   Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight   
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SECRETS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CAUTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※DEATH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ CURSE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DESTINY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ FATE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REALITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ BLACK  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※VOID ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※ DESTRUCTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ COURAGE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ BRAVERY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SALVATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ANNIHILATION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ PENANCE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ASTRAY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SEALS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WORLDS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CORRUPTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SLAIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ DIVERGED  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WONDER  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ MOTIVES  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ KEY-BEARER  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURIOUS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KNOWLEDGE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
Stevesciguy
   

Erik brought his left hand to his head as he pushed back against the burning pain. Terrible as it was, the Curator had made clear what the Kindler was capable of. These were  half-hearted swats. 

Through the pain, one word caught his attention.

  'Again?'  

He slowly raised the sword that shared the Kindler's name into a middle guard as he tried to determine his course of action. She was angry.  Furious.  He had apparently abandoned her twice - maybe more. One, he could recall, but then... he was missing something. Finding it could be the key.

But he needed to defuse things first, at least a little. Thus far, the beings he'd met had still functioned within the emotional spectrum he'd recognized. Warped and twisted, perhaps, but not so far removed from the mortal experience. What did the Kindler want? Perhaps only what the furious typically wanted.

 To be heard. 

He could only hope he was right.

He held out a quieting hand toward Luntis, keeping his eyes on the Kindler.

"  Let the Kindler speak, Curator. I have wronged her.  Failed in my duties as Lord.  She has the right to air her grievances.  "

He braced himself. He had either found the path,  or misstepped terribly.  It was only seconds until he found out which.

 
 Spoiler: OoC 
Well this is scary
Let's see if I can Sense Motive the living embodiment of the Passage

Sense Motive on the Kindler's reaction:  (1d20+13)[ 32 ] 

Fortitude Save rolled in OoC. Got a 17
 
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
Zek'taur, The First Passage
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 13:01 AM  
   "I...What- ?"    His words were cut short as Erik raised his hand silencing the man. His hand snapped to his mouth, as if he were surprised at what he'd said - or  not said.  It was as if he'd ripped the very voice of the Curator out from his throat, leaving him mute.    Grievances?  ...GRIEVANCES!?   There was a sharp snap, like the crack of a whip made purely of water pressure. Followed by a sudden bloom of deep colors which blinded his vision. A dance of red inky clouds. Erik could feel the ocean tremble in fury. It was not like the quake of an approaching storm, but something immeasurably large and thundering. Like the pulse of the oceans surface tossing a boat from some abyssal behemoth miles-wide and rising up to devour them whole.

 Erik didn't know what had happened.  It had been too quick. Too forceful to understand. A measure of power and kinetic energy so great it appeared subtle when observed. Long moments passed before he saw him, the top-half of the Curator screaming wordlessly as he sunk into the deep. His lower half floated up towards the skyward ocean above. He didn't even know if he had been  cut  or simply wrest in halves, twisted by some inconceivable weight. A sense of terror and dread crept through him as the water ran colder.  Freezing.  Crackling veins of ice twisting out like terrible latching arms. He realized very quickly.  He had made a mistake. 

His mind raced, attempting to understand the being before him. The icy skeletal hands frozen inches from his face, filling the water about him with a dizzying dance of floating flakes of brittle rime. Something  connected  between them. Like the spasm of some underdeveloped muscle. The shock of some mental synapse.  Another sense . It connected them. He could feel the torrent of sorrow and boiling rage.  Betrayal.  An unforgivable sin. She was not his subject, but his  friend.  There was nothing which she owed, yet still.  She had waited her for him.  Protecting this terrible flooded Passage.  Alone.  Surrounded by silence and maddening isolation for lifetimes. Hoping beyond hope that the Lord of Passages, one worthy of the name, might come and lift Ashurbanipal from the darkness and decay. As Lord, he carried with him every sin and every glory of his predecessors - he was merely an expression of that lineage, just as the Passages were an expression of hers.  He had abandoned her  - left her alone, drowning for an eternity within the Flooded Passage. Even as the millennia turned and the sun set upon L'Chandal,  she still believed.  Believed he would return and free her from this torment. This terrible night. Toiling endlessly, she propped up every span and universe of the Second World, grasping its ends and holding it together tirelessly for time beyond measure.

When the pain of her burden became too much, she buried herself in the delusions of days past and her unfulfilled hopes. Her wait was a grinding ceaseless torturer's rake, flaying her skin and gorging out her eyes. Each splinter shattering the world was an eviscerating hook. The mending of time and space, a suture to her lacerated being. The grotesque and blasphemous magicked Worlds ripped at her face like a storm of crows, ripping off her ears and plucking out her tongue. Her mind was splintered by the burden of the Dream, and their wretched Nightmare Worlds. Like red-hot burning iron chains, she was shackled to a sinking cliff-face, drowning in the sea of the unreal. Every sick fantasy, every terror and dreamt horror imagined.  She carried it all . Ushering their reality forward, fighting back the waves of Voidgods and nameless malignant beings for so long, the dreams had begun to worship the very corruption she mended as if it were a savior. She burned with hatred. A deep loathing. A deep earnest black seething.  He had abandoned her here.  Just as she had been left like so many years ago. He had not returned with regret. Nor guilt. Only a familiar cold indifference.  He did not even apologize. 
 Her faith was broken.  The worthlessness of the Lord of Passages. Her meaningless suffering. It was surely fit to be her own tragic comedy. There was no worth in him. In any of the Worlds she had protected. If it was all for naught. If her dreams were to die. She would drown this world.  Something ebon black was beginning to bloom in her heart.  She would visit every pain. Every suffering and blight upon every reality her Passages could reach.  They would suffer, as she had suffered...  Her vengeance would be  thousand-fold.  Only when she grew tired and satisfied with it, after a million-thousand millennia or two, only then would she grace them with  death.  Ripping apart the real and casting the broken fragments of reality's ravaged corpse into the Black before she departed the Garden forever.    You peaked...     Erik shivered and twitched as the horrific mind, spurred unto bitter maniacal rage, lurched, expelling him out with crippling violence.  [Erik: Sense Motive - Success]   [Erik: Fortitude Save (DC 20) Vs Enervating Thoughts - 1d4 negative levels] 

The Kindler's hands slipped from her face, her gaze locking upon his.
Slowly her eyes lowered towards the sword in his hands.
  What... is that?  
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (70,700xp)     [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦   (⮸ +40xp)   
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
 ⬖  Greater World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)
⬖  Lesser World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)  
 ⭍ (Suspended)   Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight   
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SECRETS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CAUTION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DEATH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ CURSE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DESTINY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ FATE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REALITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ BLACK  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※VOID ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※ DESTRUCTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ COURAGE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ BRAVERY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SALVATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ANNIHILATION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ PENANCE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ASTRAY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SEALS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WORLDS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CORRUPTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SLAIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ DIVERGED  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WONDER  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ MOTIVES  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※ KEY-BEARER  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURIOUS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KNOWLEDGE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
Stevesciguy
   
 He had heard her, alright.  Not in the way he'd intended. Not in the way  she'd  intended. But he had.

He couldn't bear to look upon her. He didn't  deserve  to.  But to turn away would be worse.  To turn away from her would be to turn away from her pain.

Had any of the others seen it? Any of his predecessors? The Curator? The Librarian? Had any of them even  known ? The Librarian had supposedly introduced every Lord before him to her, he must've at least had a clue... but Erik had known the Librarian for mere minutes. Maybe he hadn't known. Or worse,  didn't care.  The Curator had spoken of her like a subject whose favor was to be won. But she wasn't. She needed his support as much as he needed hers. Support she had been denied for millenia before Erik Ragnok would even be born.

His predecessors had done nothing but take. He had been no different. He hadn't broken the chain.

"   I am so sorry.   "

His voice came out hoarse and broken. The words were useless.  Worse  than useless. The time for apologies was past. Perhaps even before Erik had ever heard the word "Ashurbanipal."

Gone was the confidence. Gone was the man who thought that he understood the world and how to navigate it, even though both had long since been rendered impossible. The facade shattered by a single drop from an ocean of pain.

She had asked him a question. He didn't even have the answer.

"  It's‐  " his voice broke. The words didn't want to fit together. He tried again.

"  I'm... not sure. The Curator-  " his eyes briefly flicked to where he'd last seen the Curator as he sunk. He was certain the Curator couldn't be killed by mundane means, but at the hands of the Kindler... he couldn't think of that right now.

"  -had only given me the barest details.  "

He barely recognized his own voice. He looked at the blade again, hilt in his right hand, blade resting in his left. He didn't bother to settle into any kind of guard now. It didn't matter. None of it did.

"  I awoke with it in my hand after I took the key. The Curator said it was once a 'Memory Weapon,' though it was unlike any he knew. He said that it was impossible for it to exist here.  "

He shifted the blade in his grasp. There was one more thing he knew.

"  ...and it bears your name as its own.  "

He didn't have anything else to say. For once, Erik would have to wait for fate to come to him.

 
 Spoiler: OoC 
Well that was intense. Another Sense Motive roll I guess?

Sense Motive on Kindler:  (1d20+13)[ 15 ] 
 
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
Zek'taur, The First Passage
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 13:16 AM  
 He waited.  Shaking off the terrible suffocating wave of wilting misery that had expunged him from the mental bond. The long moments dragged on in utter stillness with nothing being said. In those tense moments, he could feel something unravel uncomfortably. It felt like walking with his belt unfastened, only for his sword to come clattering across the floor with a disappointing and resounding dull  thud.  It struck his mind acutely. The knowing he'd lost something.  The Curator was gone.  A gloom filled his thoughts as the knowledge of some ungodly power filled his breast. The words penned themselves upon the pages of his consciousness, and he understood its foul work. He had inherited that same wretched power.  The means to flood a Passage.  It was keenly disgusting, an intentional act. The Kindler had been placed here,  knowingly , of what torment awaited.  That had been the point.  The objective, even. It took an impossibly powerful soul to lift the Atlas-stone of boundless realities. The price to ensure the safety and integrity of all protected by the Passage  was steep.  It was not that the First Passage had simply prevented the instability and reality-ending shattering of the universe.  Far from it.  All of those things still happened. The calamitous ruination of reality was simply re-directed to a single sacrifice to bear it instead. It was a sinister magic. One which would have no use without beings like the Kindler. No mortal creature could endure such a thing. This had been the  purpose  of this Passage. As it was penned in the Black Book. The Librarian knew. The Curator did as well. Of that he was now certain. Though he could only imagine their rationale.  Perhaps he'd never know.  That affirmation came with the dire flickers of memories from those who once wore the crown before him. This was his legacy.  The sins he inherited.    ...You finally said it.  

After a moment she begun to chuckle. Then laugh. Then she cried.   ...Idiot.   The ice begun to slowly melt. Lazily the limbs fashioned from limbs of frozen rime dissolved. Erik could feel the sickening darkness within her heart lighten. The connection between them was unsteady, flickering in-and-out of life like a weak spark craving to ignite. The bitter sour of her burning hatred had thawed, but had not simply evaporated. Everything was  not  okay. He had not been forgiven,  but it was a start.  Something new glinted in her mind which had not been there before.  Hope.  Distant and small, but alive.   Why have you come here?    [Erik: Sense Motive - Partial] 
   [POTENTIAL] BLACK BOOK - FLOODED PASSAGES    
 Prerequisite : Lord of Ashurbanipal Potential Path
The Lord of Ashurbanipal may impart the Essence of The Hollowed Tide to any Passage or realm he rules at no cost. Such realms gain the ‘Flooded’ property and benefit from any effect which would be available in any Dominion of the Black. Planes, realms and subsequent Worlds associated with the Passage are granted a +2 stability check per HD the Lord possesses, this benefit is granted to all denizens associated with the universe linked to this Passage. This property may be applied to a Sublime Passage when occupied by a Kindler to prevent the effects of natural instability or corruption and planar Collapse. Any effects influencing a World prevented in this way are instead inflicted upon the Kindler. Effects which cannot be inflicted effect the World being protected by this Passage normally. Entities originating from the House of Black or the Corpse Sea may enter such Passages freely, unless the Lord of Ashurbanipal explicitly chooses to restrict free travel for such beings. The Lord of Passages may dismiss this property from a realm he occupies as a full round action, or from any realm he controls while accessing the Black Book as a free action. Any entities from the Black which could not persist in the realm without this effect are banished to their native plane when it is dismissed. The Lord’s HD increases by 2. 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (70,800xp)     [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦   (⮸ +100xp)   
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
 ⬖  Greater World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)
⬖  Lesser World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)  
 ⭍ (Suspended)   Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight   
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ SECRETS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CAUTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DEATH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ CURSE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DESTINY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ FATE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REALITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ BLACK  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※VOID ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※ DESTRUCTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ COURAGE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ BRAVERY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SALVATION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ANNIHILATION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ PENANCE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ ASTRAY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SEALS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WORLDS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CORRUPTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SLAIN  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ DIVERGED  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WONDER  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ MOTIVES  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ KEY-BEARER  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURIOUS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KNOWLEDGE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

As the applause filled the endless abyss, Miryks allowed himself a brief moment of hope. Despite losing all of his form to the teeth, and the endless crush of oblivion since, there was still light within himself. This great calamity that struck the very stars from the heavens had not extinguished his flame   yet...   The unbidden truth passed through his mind; he had passed this trial, yes. But it was only the first.

Miryks's awareness came to him slowly, blurred vision slowly sharpening as his wits returned to him. The transition was unnerving, wakening from the icy depths of a crushing void to a world bathed in warm light. He raised a hand to rub his eye, only to find out that he had no hand, or eyes to rub for that matter. While discovering this new form, his sight finally cleared. He almost preferred the darkness to this new vision, and the lack of a blind spot was comical to him. It would take some getting used to, at the very least. It was thanks to this that he spotted the movement almost immediately, even though his focus and mind were elsewhere. Miryks was surprised to see the shock cross her face, and even more so to see her exit abruptly.    A fool's luck indeed.  Whatever comes next, they were not prepared for me to be here. Or perhaps, not even prepared for  me  to be the one here.   Upon her return, Miryks could not help but notice what stood out in her appearance. The robes, the veil, even the angle of her neck; Miryks strained his mind to recall other ghostly apparitions in his travels.   Had she been hung?  

Her delicate voice bespoke a servant, though to her god or another master he could only guess.    First  Nightmare Kindler? Is she the first of many other Kindlers, or is she here specifically for me?   As she reached for him, the truth of her role came to him with rapid clarity. She was a  literal  Kindler. This was far from ideal, but a damn sight better than being eaten to nothingness and then crushed by an impossible weight. He didn't know if a body of flame could speak, but the Kindler was likely well versed on his form. Failing to reply to her could be disastrous, if his flame depended on her actions and opinion of him. The duality of a "reward" for him also gave him pause.

 "Please excuse my early arrival, it was not my intention to interrupt you." 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Use 1 ki point to activate Nourish
  Diplomacy  - (1d20+22)[ 39 ] 
  Perception  - (1d20+19)[ 25 ]  Any visible cause for the Kinder's death
  Knowledge Religion  - (1d20+8)[ 13 ]  Identifying anything about the robes and veil on the Kindler
  Sense Doom  - (1d20+36)[ 42 ]  The nature of the Kindler's duties
 
Mornings
      
  The Painter of the Tempest  
    "Oh. A flame... with manners."     Miryks had not spoken despite his best efforts. He had no mouth. No eyes. No bodily organs to speak of, or speak with.  Yet she had heard him.  Evidently she possessed some ability to commune with the fire.     "Fear not... It is my sacred duty."    Carefully she collected him with the forked and crooked candelabra, scooping him up from the brazier.     "The Lady of Passages, bids I guide you. Though... This is the swiftest...a flame has come."      He was not familiar with whatever being or god to which she referred to, only that it was  not  part of the Dream.  [Miryks: Diplomacy - Success] 

In his time, he had seen a great deal of death, and so was fairly proficient in identifying the cause of said death. At first he had assumed the woman had been hung by a manner of noose, but upon closer inspection he realized that her neck was neither broken nor showed any evident signs of harm. Rather, the lack of physical injury suggested she had been suffocated, or perhaps  drowned.  There was no telltale signs of bluing or bloating from water, but that was not always the case. Only prolonged exposure, such as when a corpse was left in the water would display those more acute signs. At the least he surmised she had not been hung or strangled. The off-set position of her posture was simply due to awkward placement as rigor mortis set in. With the existence of killing-spells, there was an ever expanding scope of harm which made a purely visual autopsy nigh impossible.  [Miryks: Perception - Partial] 

As the Kindler collected him she turned and floated though the brazier-hall and out of the door, leaving the previous room behind. Her robes were filled with various depictions of flame. Sometimes flanked by what he had initially assumed to be the frames of windows, but perhaps they were actually  doors  instead. He imagined that would have been closer related to the lady's 'passages' she spoke of. Other than the symbols of doors and flame, there was also various sigils of the sun decorating her humble garments. The symbolism her articles carried seemed a far cry from the terrors he had faced. Perhaps there was some manner of overlap, but the nature of her duty seemed unrelated to the Nightmare Worlds nor the strange entities from beyond. They were motivated by something else entirely. Though he could not be sure of just what. At the very least, he gathered that the fires - like what he had become, held some sacred meaning.     "Tell me, young ember. What is it you wish to become?"     As they slowly bobbed forward down a series of cloistered halls, he looked on at the large pillars which flanked them and large blackened iron furnaces absent any flame scattered about the chamber they passed. The great stone structure was reminiscent to a Steelworks, gone cold and inert, and a temple of sorts. Towering metal cranes capable of bearing enormous crucibles of liquid metal and tools he had never seen before danced above. Every few seconds the Kindler would waft a firm vellum fan, filling him with a soothing vigor.

As they proceeded they came into a new chamber with massive holes, like great ovens and filled with mountains of dark bituminous coke. Refined down with great care into deep grey luster. Creatures slept on the piles, beasts which looked reminiscent to a race of bipedal cats. Some with somewhat anthropomorphic characteristics. They were covered black with soot, which penetrated deep into their fur, coloring them black. Most wore layers of heavy fire-resistant aprons and worn leather coats and gloves. Some even slept with shovels. Their forms were mildly iridescent, shifting with different hues of darkness.  [Miryks: Knowledge (Religion) - Partial]   [Miryks: Sense Doom - Partial] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (8,970xp)     (⮸ +50xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DREAMS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※BEASTS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※REALITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※BLACK ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※FORBIDDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※ DOOM  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ INSIGHT  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

       
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

It was unsurprising that this form was incapable of speech, but the Kindler hearing him all the same caught Miryks off-guard.   I suppose it this makes sense. Communication would come part and parcel with her sacred duty.   Her soft words and benign actions reminded him briefly of the Dohl'Denka, likely still a part of the march. Hushed as they were, her words still cut through his thoughts. Hopefully, as it appeared to be, the Lady of Passages was a kinder godly aspect than the Nightmare and Unsung Kings had been. Even as a flame, Miryks shivered at the memory of the Unsung King's vicious gaze.

    "Tell me, young ember. What is it you wish to become?"     Her words seared into Miryks's mind. What did he want? Since his revivification at Willowbrook, he could hardly say he was the same Aasimar. From mortal, to nightmare, to flame, his mind simmered at the stops his journey had led him to. Did he even  truly  know what he wanted? So much recently had been a desperate bid for survival. Picking up his own dismembered hand had just been the start. He had known other iterations of himself had likely died, and he was sure he had died at least once as well; perhaps even twice. It would be impossible to see the world with the same eyes after all that he'd persevered through.

 "I am not the man I once was, of that we can both be sure. I fancied myself a predator among prey, now finding myself a sheep in wolf's clothing. A fool burns brightly before you."  An invigorating breeze swept over him from the Kindler's fan, and Miryks paused a moment to enjoy its passage.  "Even here, under your care, my entire existence waxes and wanes with the wave of a fan.  Of which I am grateful, "  he added as an afterthought.  "Before this journey I would have quickly answered you: Powerful. My life's history is painted with the blood of those that fell before me, or found themselves on my table. I traded pain for truth as often as a merchant traded wares for coin. Every step was taken to improve my art and my station."  It was a risk being brutally honest, both to himself as well as the Kindler. Regardless of her actual cause of death, the way of the world tended towards evil and she very well may had been a victim. He hoped that even if his words proved distasteful to her, the yolk of her sacred duty would see him through.

They had entered the next chamber now, and Miryks viewed the creatures with interest. He had always liked cats, admired them even for their hunting prowess. What ever they were, it seemed like they likely shared some part in the Kindler's sacred duty. Their varied gear and mounds of refined coal suggested building up great heat and maintaining it for long periods of time, if not indefinitely. Whoever the Lady of Passages was, it seemed as though she commanded both the living and the dead... perhaps commanded was too harsh a word for it. They were both in her service more like.

Another pass of the fan rejuvenated Miryks and focused his mind on the Kindler's lingering question.  "As the ma-,  ember  you see before you, a different path calls to me. I wish to become more aware,"  Miryks instinctively tried to raise a nonexistent hand to fend off any objections, even his own, seeing how he was rewarded with his earlier attempt to gain knowledge that wasn't his to possess.  "-but I'm aware that digging too greedily and too deep spells only disaster. So much has been revealed to me of the worlds surrounding my own and I know I've only scratched the surface. Maybe not even that. I still feel the call of my art, and there will be a time for me to pick up my brush again.  But I refuse to let that be the driving force of my life it once was.  The shadow that man cast is lost to the void." 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Knowledge Local  - (1d20+13)[ 24 ]  The Lady of Passages
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 32 ]  The Kindler's reaction to Miryks's words
  Perception  - (1d20+19)[ 27 ]  Evidence of injuries to the catlike creatures, focusing on those related to heat
 
Mornings
      
The ghostly woman's visage was placid and unmoving like a doll.     "The fire... Cleanses us. Strips away those novelties which blind us. It shows us what is true.  Power  does not reside in  mortal hands . That is an illusion in the eyes of those without vision. Only when darkness and fire have consumed the mortal shell can one begin to see -  as you now do. "     Her words struck a chord. Reiterating what he already knew, but only cemented the futility of his efforts. The worthlessness of his struggle, and the meaningless 'strength' he believed he had possessed. Power.  True power.  It could not belong in the hands of those earth-bound mortals who crawled upon the earth. The beings which slumbered behind the curtain which he glanced were unfathomable things. Entities who traversed universes as easily as a man might walk along a paved street. He sought now to understand it.     "This is but your first step. Your first lesson... In understanding the Revelation of Flame."     Her words carried with it a confident sense of duty; a degree of confidence she had not shown before. Miryks recounting of his past misdeeds did not seem to make the specter flinch. On the contrary, she almost seemed  pleased  by his tale.     "Lay bear your regrets and many sins before the Lady, for each is a lesson which shall temper you. A spark which will refine your flame. For you are guiltless, formless  fire.  By the gracious, benevolent  ritual of Death , all of your life's wrongs are pardoned."      [Miryks: Sense Motive - Success] 

Miryks had heard the word 'Passages' in parting, but he was not familiar with this entity or patron worshipped here. Whatever the being's purpose or intent, he was certain this  'Lady of Passages'  was not a being which hailed from the Nightmare Worlds. It was something else entirely, and here, somehow those worlds collided, or perhaps overlapped. The march of nightmare beasts was a strange thing to be sure, but its scale and purpose was far too large to exist in isolation. There was certain to be points where their unknowable workings met with other worlds and beings beyond them. Somehow, the fires the beasts carried translated some meaning and importance here. He himself was still unsure if the 'Passages' being referred to were physical or metaphoric ones - like the transition from his death to this fire-form, might be considered a 'passage', of sorts. At the very least, he was sure that fire was somehow sacred here, or perhaps fell under one of her domains.  [Miryks: Knowledge (Local) - Failed]  

His flaming vision took careful inspection of the strange beasts sleeping the in chamber. There was quite a large number of the creatures. All of them appeared in good health, perhaps even  better  than average. As some stirred in their rest, he could see the coil of taut muscles beneath their feline coats. Nearly half clenched glassy bottles of clear or dark liquid which he doubted was water. Toward the center of the chamber close to the left wall was a smoldering hearth and tables which likely functioned as a mess-hall. A great deal of plates and half-eaten dishes lay strewn about next to towers of unwashed stacked dishes. Perhaps it had been a festival or some sort, but he was certainly arriving during the aftermath of some manner of celebration.  They had not been expecting him.   [Miryks: Perception - Success] 

They continued on, making their way through the great hall of foundries and forges. The chamber was truly massive, a great workshop hundreds of feet in length. It was larger than any warehouse or forgeworks he had seen before. Perhaps the only the city of Torch in Numeria might have possessed workplaces of equal or similar size, but most of their metalsmiths had to create mobile shops to avoid being caught in the same seven-mile pillar of flame which allowed them to work adamantine. They moved through a great oval portcullis of silvery metal bars which stood some fifty feet tall, allowing the frames of great cranes to come and go. The temple, for that was indeed what it appeared to be, was a series of buildings connected by sweeping arcs and battlements which appeared to allow access to a series of large iron shutters and ventilation shafts. With the amount of metalwork, it was likely necessary to control the smoke and gaseous plumes released from powerful billowing fires he could not even begin to imagine. Overhead a sweeping sky twisted with painted lights of deep purples and blues turned like a bottle filled with colorful oils.  He had no idea where he was.  It certainly was no where he had been before.

Carefully she carried him towards a courtyard in the center of the buildings, where a squat stone pedestal was carved in the center of an elaborately decorated ritual circle worked into the polished light gray rock. A dark chalice rested atop the raised dais, filled with fuel. Gingerly, the Kindler lifted the candelabra to the lip of the cup and his flame spilled into the vessel, igniting with a crackling breath.     "A flame cannot remain a flame forever. It must be worked and given new form..."     She lowered the candelabra, pausing to consider his previous words.     " Awareness , is knowing... And there are many things far too dangerous to know. At least for mortals and the living."     The Kindler turned away, picking a handful of white flowers from the courtyard. Skillfully, she twisted their stems into petaled rings, placing them around the chalice.     "You will need to consider it now. What form you wish to take. The smiths of the Blessed Flame will work your flame into your new being,  forging you anew.  Be it from flesh or metal. Take some time to consider this. Though, earnestly speaking. If your desire is to gain further insight, you might consider becoming an object which could contain such knowledge. Or perhaps, brave the perilous path of the magical races - though even that would not provide a  complete  solution. Only expand upon what little you were capable of perceiving in the past. It would require many-many cycles of tempering to refine your flame in this manner."    
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (9,060xp)     (⮸ +90xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ TRUTH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DREAMS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※BEASTS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ RITUAL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※REALITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※BLACK ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※FORBIDDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※ DOOM  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ INSIGHT  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
Stevesciguy
   

Erik felt the Curator's loss keenly. Not only had he lost the Curator's capabilities, he'd lost his guide. Erik was blind once again. Worse, the Curator had died from  his misstep . He recalled how the Curator had intervened in the moments with the Teller. Had he taken a blow meant for Erik? It was too late to find out.

But a chance. The Kindler had given him a chance. The most he could do for the Curator for now was to keep from squandering it.

The Curator had, verbally, given him the barest blueprint on how to proceed. Move the First Passage. Rebuild the Library. Once the Library had been repaired enough for the Librarian to manifest, he'd no longer be blind, at least after what would likely be  days  of scolding.

 The Librarian.  There were words to be had with him. For now, there was work to do.

"   Right.   "

Erik tried to regain his composure. Or at least stand up a little straighter.

"  After I told him the story of how I came upon this sword - or whatever it  truly  is - the Curator i- was of the opinion that the World Veil from which I hail must be protected at any cost. To that end... he suggested we come here to move the First Passage.  "

"  Unfortunately, the Curator chose to act before explaining. I can't tell you why my World Veil is so crucial as to leave...  " it took him a moment to recall the name, "  L'Chandal behind. Only that he was willing to betray the entire Second World for it.  "

Erik paused. He didn't know what he was about to do. The one man who could tell him was dead. Only that the consequences were far greater than he could ever hope to grasp.

And that he was asking an awful lot of the woman in front of him.

"  What say you?  "

 
 Spoiler: OoC 
Another Sense Motive roll since those have been going so well for me the last few posts

Sense Motive on Kindler:  (1d20+15)[ 24 ] 
(Sense Motive bonus is higher now due to bonus ranks from Spheres being tied to HD)
 
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
Zek'taur, The First Passage
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 13:21 AM  

The Kindler's brow raised in evident confusion, but she listened. After a moment her gaze dropped to the abyss below, a spark of recognition springing to life. The realization coming only now that she had killed the man in question. A heavy groan filtered through her lips as she dropped her face into a hand tiredly.  An unexpected blunder to be sure.    I highly doubt the Curator intended to rebuild his precious Library in the immediate future, or anytime soon. He payed me billions of Fragments to assemble it over many years. Its truly a shame...   Erik could feel her suppress a spiteful chuckle. Despite the efforts and time committed to it, she had no love for that place. She only stood to  gain  by its destruction. Ultimately, it had been his responsibility to protect it.  He had failed.  But  billions  of Fragments... As in  multiple billion , that was an abhorrent loss to be sure. The Librarian certainly  would  be giving him an earful,  if they ever met again.    I suppose... I'll be looking forward to your future patronage?  

With that, she could no longer stifle it any longer, bursting into a bitter mocking laughter. Mocking his own carelessness. Mocking the Librarian who had ceased to exist without the Achieves. Mocking the Curator who failed in his haste to fulfill his duty, leaving his Lord blind and impotent. The spite and bitterness in her heart still ran hot, but not beyond control.   Fools all... til the end.   Despite the coldness of her tone, the words weren't truly a sleight, but disappointment.   Your Curator may have failed to mention this. A Veil is merely a spell. Pitiable arcane constructs of a lesser magic. I cannot even begin to imagine just what would be so important to him to protect so insignificant a thing. To sacrifice his very life. To turn the whole of the Second World upon you...   Her last words came with a pointed weight. It was not the Curator which would be made to suffer the consequences of whatever grand design he had imagined, it would be  him.    I do not know... and I do not care. If you mean to abandon L'Chandal. You mean to dissolve this Flooded Passage, and there our interests align. But...  

Her eyes scanned him up and down.   You are poor... You can dismiss the Passage yourself, but I cannot move it without adequate payment.   A frown crept across her face as if she'd caught him red-handed.   Or did you think yourself coy? That I would do it for free? I am not trapped within this place. Nor is it exceptionally expensive to move to a Lower World. Do try harder next time.   She crossed her arms. Whether he had actually had thought to try to talk the Kindler into relocating the First Passage for free or not was irrelevant. It was a familiar prodding harassment. Like opening the parlor doors of a tavern which had been closed for a  very  long time.

In those moments when his mind touched hers, it filled him with an indescribable insight. It allowed him to understand things he could not, see beyond those things he could not or did not know, effortlessly contextualizing a scope greater than any man's mind was capable of giving name or description. It was in these moments Erik could truly take a measure of that great chasm which always seemed to loom out before him when he interfaced with the beings of foreign worlds, though the Kindler's thoughts. In the Mortal Worlds, like those places he could name. There were men, magic and Gods. Places with devils and great beasts. But beyond those planes, above the dizzying multiverse of the Maelstrom, was another reality.  Greater beings,  which strongly dictated the forces of those planes inhabited by all mortal life below. They cared not for the needs of mankind, but wrestled with the balance of spheres between great laws which held the fabric of reality together. Giving order to chaos, like the Justices of Kathe. Then even beyond that, there was a  greater world.  The world in which those rules were written.  Afalloch cared for none of these things.  They were trivialities of lesser consciousnesses which she tolerated, or sought out for entertainment. She did not hail from the Three Worlds,  but beyond them.  Unlike the Curator, with his fancy books and intricate notes... All of these things were beneath her. She could not answer his worthless questions. She could not understand the Curator's fear or motivations. All such things were the concerns of insignificant existences without merit or purpose, orchestrated and governed by autonomous cosmic law - merely because her,  and those like her , could not be bothered to manually conduct such things themselves. Domains, the very realm of the Gods he knew, were little more than a system to offset what efforts might be required to allow reality to keep toiling forward smoothly, like a well-oiled machine.  She was not a God.  She  made  Gods. Hewn from divine soul-stuff and shaped as easily as a child might fashion clay. All of this she sacrificed to create the fabric of networked doorways to knit reality together,  for him.   [Erik: Sense Motive - Partial] 

Despite the harsh exchange of words, this had been the most she had spoken in so long, she  struggled  to recall when last she had. Even he could not find a hint or recollection within those thoughts. The only certainty within Erik's mind was that it had been words shared before the Age of Darkness. Before Golarion was even born. Long before his reality within the Prime Material Plane even came to be.

For the first time since mortals lived,
 She smiled. 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (71,000xp)     [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦   (⮸ +200xp)   
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
 ⬖  Greater World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)
⬖  Lesser World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)  
 ⭍ (Suspended)   Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight   
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※ SECRETS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CAUTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DEATH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ CURSE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DESTINY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ FATE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REALITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ BLACK  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※VOID ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※ DESTRUCTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ COURAGE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ BRAVERY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SALVATION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ANNIHILATION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ PENANCE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ ASTRAY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SEALS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WORLDS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CORRUPTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SLAIN  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ DIVERGED  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WONDER  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ MOTIVES  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※ KEY-BEARER  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURIOUS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KNOWLEDGE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DIVINE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※ GODS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+5) 
 

     
Stevesciguy
   

Erik blinked mutely as the information crossed the gap between them. He'd known the scales involved were vast. He hadn't expected them to predate the existence of mortality itself. A testament to the purity of her soul - or whatever her equivalent was - that she had held out this long against the neglect she had suffered. Dully he registered that he may have done more for her in the last few minutes than had every other Lord together in the countless eons before.  It hurt. 
 Billions  of fragments. Recalling the connection the Librarian had drawn between the energy of a fragment and a common spell, there was a nonzero possibility that the Library was worth a few hundred  years  worth of all magic used on the face of Golarion. Erik cursed the loss his errors had caused bitterly. Knowledge was power, even to a simple man with a sword. He was far beyond that now, and that knowledge was worth more than ever.

Knowledge... he was missing so much of it right now. The Kindler's words on the Veil - "Pitiable arcane constructs of a lesser magic." - echoed the Curator's words he had overlooked in light of the sword.

   You are not even as robust as a normal mortal man,  a human man . You are a product of a World Veil. A host.   

If he wasn't a "normal mortal man" - or hadn't been, as the case may be since he'd become Lord - then what in the Hells  was he? 

And the sword. The Kindler had asked  him  what it was. The Curator seemed to have had at least an inkling of what it was. But he was lost. And what sort of weapon could claim the name of a being entirely beyond the three worlds...

He pushed it all aside.  One thing at a time.  Lest he spiral into the endless questions and drive himself to madness. For now: a price to be paid.

"  Of course not. What is your price? I don't have many fragments, but I do have these... World Shards, the Curator called them. Though if you  only  take fragments, I suppose I'll need to find someone else to trade them to first.  "

 
 Spoiler: OoC 
At this point I'm almost getting the vibe that Sense Motive checks are just like... how I  should be  communicating with her. So we keep on rolling I guess

Sense Motive:  (1d20+15)[ 33 ] 
 
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
Zek'taur, The First Passage
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 13:32 AM  

Erik knew he had misunderstood  immediately.  The Kindler raised her brow tilting her head towards him with a dissatisfied manner.   I do not need to correct your misunderstanding. Do I.   It was a rhetorical question of course. As their minds touched,  She knew, that  he knew  his question had been fundamentally misplaced.  Fragments  were not a currency to the Kindler. It was a system  she had created.  Merely a means to an end. The methods of trade and various mercantile applications of the energy was simply a byproduct of other beings of the Three Worlds seeing its value. Like ants drawn to sugar left on a table. To  Afalloch , it was simply matter or material which was proverbially  burned;  incinerated into  'ash' , or more accurately - the most base components of its nature. She could, as far as he understood it, effectively take almost anything as payment - kindling for her flame. The whole of the system itself, and Fragments as a currency, was a thing she had created to monetize and gamify endless monotonous toils, and make it easier for a Lord to function without necessarily needing to understand the incomprehensible logic of the great spheres beyond reality.

  If it is something which cannot be taken. I shall make it untrue.   Slowly she raised her palm to her side as if she were about to swear an oath, and Erik could feel the whole of the universe quake and shudder, like an earthquake beyond time and eons. His soul was split and cast back through countless memories. Once-lived times shivered as the Past itself quivered in fear and adoration. All light bent and curved before her hand in all moments his thoughts could flee, in every time that had ever been. He was a child, watching as the last rays of a dawning sun curved before a lithe woman's slender fingers. Far from the small girl who floated amid flooded doorways. She was some thundering archon of a pale flickering glow, bound in a crimson shawl of time and space. The light at her touch was a sigil with pulsed like a heart, thrumming with a might that rattled his bones in times and years he'd yet lived.    I bear the Authority. The Law of Passage. While I remain its patron, none may decide the right of travels before Ashurbanipal. As I have from the First Day. I honor the Rite of Passages.   Erik withstood all he could bear and was forced to lower his gaze, least his small body be cast across the echoes of some bygone days.

Her hand snapped closed, a clenched fist.  He was back.  Like flipping through countless pages, and reading each simultaneously from a different year. Every iteration of his life came clattering back at once, slamming into himself like the violent clap of a shutting book.   Pay me Fragments and you wield my Authority.   He had to gasp to fill his empty lungs with air. It felt as if he had not been breathing for... He didn't know, but long enough. Even though their minds still intertwined, he could not fully grasp the depth of that power; but he understood in some part, its nature. The First World lived by the Laws. The Second World maintained them. The Third World Wrote them -  This was that power.  The power to  create  the laws which governed reality. Yet, it was also  more.  If those of the Third World were the ones who wrote Laws, they were similar to lawyers. Carefully navigating through the history of previous Laws and Case Laws which established a precedent for those which should come after. This was a power which  did not care  what came before. Something he could not even adequately describe if he'd tried. The Lord of Passages was,  or should be,  a symbol deserving caution and respect, and that - along with his continued existence, was all derived from the Kindler. Her  Authority,  this force, was the source of all his power. His meaning.  Everything.  Without it and the Rite of Passages - the agreement between herself and the first Lord of Passages, there would be no Ashurbanipal, and no means to orchestrate the interaction between the Three Worlds and Otherworlds of the Garden. It would be terrible wild chance. A storm of chaos and confusion in which an unsuspecting Witch or Wizard could blow themselves though their reality and randomly into another. It was his sacred duty to prevent that and reaffirm order and reason.

  World Shards would make quite the first offering. The Shards of Quatrek V'dre, the Warren of Souls. I had always wanted to take a piece of that realm for myself... I suppose now I can.   Though her expression was mixed, he could feel her excitement at having some measure of a forgotten desire fulfilled.   It would only cost five-thousand Fragments to move the First Passage. Normally, it would be more... but it is always cheaper moving to a Lower World, and you are seeking the lowest. Not even a World, but a Veil. I will take the World Shards from you. I am willing to provide three-hundred thousand Fragments for the small one and four-hundred for the large one... Quite the pocket change. Perhaps, even a record for any Lord's first offering. Though... do keep in mind there is some risk in carrying so much on your person. It would behoove you to leave what you do not need to spend within the First Passage. It is the most secure vault of Ashurbanipal.    [Erik: Sense Motive - Success] 

The Kindler placed a finger to her lips as if she had just recalled something.
  Ah, I might have forgotten to mention. The Curator is dead. Many will be quite displeased. He was well loved by all those he'd worked to save... Though I imagine his brothers, and his mother, will not take it well. I have killed him, but they will blame you. It will not matter if you tell them the truth. They will hurt you, as a means to hurt me. His mother, Ehka'lah, is kind and stern - But hates deeply. She will not leave a blood debt unpaid.  
 
 Spoiler: Authority - Law of Passage 

While the Lord of Passages commands the Authority: The Law of Passage, he may spend Fragments he collects with The Kindler of Zek'Taur, Afalloch. Fragments may be spent to determine how planar travel functions throughout the Three Worlds in the game. The Lord of Passages must first possess a Passage on the world which he wishes to exercise this Authority. These choices include, but are by no means excluded to, the ability to determine which beings may enter a plane. Which beings may leave a plane. The danger or instability of a plane (eg: risk of Collapse), Where players may join the game and the realms players may access.
 

 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (71,250xp)     [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦   (⮸ +250xp)   
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
 ⬖  Greater World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)
⬖  Lesser World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)  
 ⭍ (Suspended)   Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight   
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※ SECRETS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CAUTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DEATH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ DESTINY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ FATE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REALITY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ BLACK  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※VOID ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※ DESTRUCTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※COURAGE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※BRAVERY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 26% (26/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SALVATION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ANNIHILATION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ PENANCE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ASTRAY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SEALS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WORLDS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CORRUPTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SLAIN  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ DIVERGED  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WONDER  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ MOTIVES  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 25% (25/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※ KEY-BEARER  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURIOUS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KNOWLEDGE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DIVINE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※ GODS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+5) 
 

     
Stevesciguy
   

As he caught his breath in the wake of what he'd been shown,  he understood . Neither the Librarian nor the Curator had had the chance - and the Justices hadn't deigned - to explain to him precisely what his station was. Until he'd come to face the Kindler, he'd thought he was some mere cosmic nobleman. Powerful, yes, but without a defined role. Now he knew. The title he had inherited carried a weight, a duty, beyond his ability to grasp.

 And yet... 

And yet it felt so familiar. On Golarion he had been a man with little left to lose. He'd chosen to give his life to setting straight his broken world. If his duty here was to seal the cracks, to make sure the world  made sense .

He could do that.

He grimaced as she explained further ramifications of the Curator's death.   More enemies.   Although... he wasn't sure how much the cost of such a thing could be, but he had seven hundred thousand fragments to work with. Perhaps it would be like asking someone to piece back together an ant they had accidentally trod upon, nonetheless, it couldn't hurt to ask...

"  Would it be possible for you to... bring him back? I understand if the price would be high, but it may be worth it. Not just to avoid the ire of his family, but a myriad of reasons. Not the least of which is that, indirect as it may have been, I  am  responsible for his death in a sense through my errors.  "

 
 Spoiler: OoC 
Sense Motive checks forever!

Sense Motive:  (1d20+15)[ 34 ] 
 
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

Had he a face still, it would have darkened at the truth behind the Kindler's words. Miryks's mortal shell had absolutely been consumed. His mind couldn't help but recall the myth of a bird both consumed by fire and reborn from the ashes, though he couldn't imagine it was as painful as his consumption had been.

A grim satisfaction settled in his being as he listened further. The truth of the world behind was full of charlatans and false prophets. Too many old man calling out to the masses to confess their sins and receive forgiveness in the world beyond, but you have to give us your gold in the meantime. But this.. this was no charade. No fool's tale to bilk the poor out of what little coin they managed to clutch to their breast. He had gone through hell and back, been consumed by the void until not even a scrap of him remained.  And still he persisted. 
 "I'm glad to see my arrival was just after the celebration,"  remarked Miryks.  "I would not want to have been the cause of any interruption."  Miryks had dealt with many lords, dukes, and even kings who would sooner cut off their own nose than stop a festival for any reason. It was the rare ruler that truly cared more for others than the small mote of existence they called their realm. And even then, kindness inevitably led to weakness and crueler hands would eventually seize the reins of power. In any case, his late arrival gave the creatures   if they are indeed the smiths   more time to sober up from whatever spirit those bottles contained.

The most disconcerting part of his new sight was the ability to see  up  with unimpeded clarity. It wasn't so much an issue in the hallway, or even the forge with it's cavernous construction. But once they entered the courtyard, with nothing between him and the sky? Miryks felt his stomach drop for a moment, as though he looked over the edge of a cliff. The pastel colors weaving through the air certainly didn't help, and it took Miryks a moment to get over this dizzying sensation. He couldn't close his eyes, so he anchored himself by listening to the Kindler's words as his flame was permitted to ignite the fuel in the chalice. His sins burned away, his flame was apparently free to choose a new vessel. Was this the reward the Kindler had mentioned earlier? Almost immediately, stories of mighty heroes and fierce beasts entered his mind. It was almost as if he were a child, once again contemplating the hierarchy of animals and wondering where he fell in that list.

Among the tales from his past, none spoke more reverently or fearfully than those containing dragons. Magical beasts with lifespans that dwarfed even the elves, full of magic and deadly even without it. So powerful were they, pieces of their carcass retained a fragment of their power and passed it onto the lucky holder. But.. no. Dragons were the thought of the Aasimar he had been. As imposing as a dragon was, it was a mortal solution. The stories had almost always ended with the dragons' demise, after all. The Kindler was helping to guide him, that much seemed to be a part of her sacred duty. Though with any job or task, there was always going to be a portion that remained amorphous. Wiggle room, if you will. The addition of the flowers seemed more like a personal choice than a practical one. Rather than a crown of flowers, Miryks was reminded of the friendship bracelets worn by the children at his orphanage. He had never been given one, so it was an unexpected moment being able to watch her fingers expertly weave the stalks together.

 "'Be it from flesh or metal',"  Miryks mused, recounting the Kindler's words softly.   Why not both?  
 "Tell me, dear Kindler, what do your smiths know of metal men?" 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Diplomacy  - (1d20+20)[ 39 ]  Further appealing to the Kindler
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 22 ]  The Kindler's wreath of flowers
  Local  - (1d20+11)[ 13 ]  The Celebration
  Perception  - (1d20+19)[ 37 ]  Any other signs of movement beyond him and the Kindler
 
Mornings
      
    "The festivities ended some time ago. Then came three days of rest, before the first flame falls. This is the last rest to prepare for the long work ahead. Your arrival is early. Upon the first day, when the forges would be lit - but still within the anticipated time."     The Kindler seemed neutral to his courteous gestures, but appeared receptive to his words. It made sense that the foundries would not be active all the time. When no new living-flames came to the temple, the soot-covered smiths took their rest. He could only imagine how long were their hours of toil.  [Miryks: Diplomacy - Success] 
    "I thought you sought greater knowledge.  Insight . The craftsmen have animated metal and stitched souls to stone and steel many times. Yet, there is little difference than a golem. This will not avail you in  pursuing  that knowledge. If you are a being made by the reasoning of the First World, you will be limited to the  First World . Nothing will change. No matter how great the steel. Material of a lesser world will provide a product of a lesser quality. Climbing the ladder of an inconsequential reality will not refine your flame. It will only be more of the same. A light extinguished before the long shadows of the Knowing..."     Miryks not could fully comprehend the weight of her words, but he at least could eke-out the intention. If he were to simply become the dragon, or golem, the beasts he could name, he would not live beyond them. He would not become something -  more . Something capable of gasping the impossible.     "Abandon this quest for insight. Or abandon the lingering attachment to this dead mortal visage...  There cannot be both . There are those who still protect the secret traditions of a Primis - sculptor's of esoteric simulacrum's capable of touching greater works. These craftsman were the pinnacle of beings who could fabricate even living stars.  This is not a Rite of Transfiguration . It is a selfish  destructive  magic. One which rips things apart. Piecing bits of corpses together, creating something new. It is not rebirth.  There will be nothing left of you.  That is not a service I offer."    

The Kindler did not seem particularly surprised or impressed by the suggestion. He had a feeling that it had not been the first time the Kindler had been suggested such a thing. Yet, her words came more sharply than before. Evidently disappointed.     "You are the First-Taken, you should not  squander  this gift. There are few greater opportunities for a flame to be so well refined. You should seek to become something  capable  of interfacing with the forces beyond the mortal worlds, or a vessel for them instead."     Miryks did not understand the importance of the woven flowers, but they evidently held some meaning. At the very least, by her sudden pause, as she tossed away the last of the wreathes she had held, he'd spent some of that goodwill with his words. He was alone with the Kindler, the rest of the world still seemed to sleep. Miryks noted that he had not even seen insect or beast since stepping out into the world. There was no cooning of birdcalls, only an unsettling stillness.  [Miryks: Sense Motive - Partial]   [Miryks: Perception - Success] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (9,090xp)     (⮸ +30xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ TRUTH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※DREAMS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)
※NIGHTMARES ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)
※BEASTS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ RITUAL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※SPIRITS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)
※REALITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※BLACK ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※DIVINITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)
※FORBIDDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ONEIROCLAST ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
 

      
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
Zek'taur, The First Passage
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 13:36 AM  

The Kindler raised a brow. Of course he  had  to ask that question. The one which had been scratching at the back of his mind.   Oh? How novel. A Lord who admits a mistake...   Before a being of such might, there was a sense of inconsequence and impermanence.  Anything  could be overturned, and so Erik was startled by the sharp response.   No.   The answer came flatly, in a matter-of-fact tone that cut.   You are the Lord of Passages. Death is not your domain. The Rite of Passages - this agreement between us, it extends no further than those entitlements of the Authority's Law, and the services which might facilitate it. You may purchase a new Curator if you would like, but you forget yourself if you think you might impede upon another's domain to return your own.   He had overstepped the rights of his station. He was no God of Death, what aid the agreement between the Lord and Kindler assured was restricted only to that sphere of influence,  and not a step beyond it.  While she berated him asking her of something which violated that agreement, it wasn't truly what she wished to say.   What you ask cannot be provided by a Kindler. Fragments. Trades. All of these are meaningless. Merely a system for the Rite. You mean to ask a personal favor of me, but what have I to gain? Why should I lend you the blessings of another Authority?  

It was a loaded question of course. One with no answer. For he was a mortal of course, or something similar at least. There was nothing he owned or held which carried any value to such a being. Yet, he also received a deeper suggestion. Not only  could  she restore the Curator, but she possessed  more than one Authority.  It was a force which was already challenging to comprehend, but neigh impossible to grasp the significance or what it might mean to possess numerous such powers. He was certain this was a test. But a test of what? He did not know.  [Erik: Sense Motive - Partial] 
 
 Spoiler: Authority - Law of Passage 

While the Lord of Passages commands the Authority: The Law of Passage, he may spend Fragments he collects with The Kindler of Zek'Taur, Afalloch. Fragments may be spent to determine how planar travel functions throughout the Three Worlds in the game. The Lord of Passages must first possess a Passage on the world which he wishes to exercise this Authority. These choices include, but are by no means excluded to, the ability to determine which beings may enter a plane. Which beings may leave a plane. The danger or instability of a plane (eg: risk of Collapse), Where players may join the game and the realms players may access.
 

 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (71,300xp)     [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦   (⮸ +50xp)   
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
 ⬖  Greater World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)
⬖  Lesser World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)  
 ⭍ (Suspended)   Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight   
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SECRETS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CAUTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DEATH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ DESTINY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ FATE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REALITY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ BLACK  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※VOID ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※ DESTRUCTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※COURAGE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※BRAVERY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 27% (27/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SALVATION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ANNIHILATION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ PENANCE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ASTRAY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SEALS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WORLDS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CORRUPTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SLAIN  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ DIVERGED  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WONDER  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ MOTIVES  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 27% (27/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ KEY-BEARER  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURIOUS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KNOWLEDGE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DIVINE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ GODS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+2) 
 

     
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

Miryks balked at the change in the Kinder's tone, momentarily surprised, though he couldn't deny the truth of her words. His mind was still rooted in the old world, where any such imposing creatures and beasts would pale in comparison to what the Kindler was familiar with. He had foolishly worried about asking for too much, when he was being offered the world. He attempted to incline the topmost part of his flame in a sort of pseudo bow, as he enjoyed the fuel his flame had been given.  "I did not intend to offend this great gift, First Kinder."  Miryks allowed himself to focus on the ever shifting sky once again, this time forcing himself to take command of this unusual vision.  "I will admit to underestimating the truth behind being First-Taken. I am wearied of pretenders to thrones and upstarts who seek station beyond their ability, though I see now I was wrong to lump myself in with them. I will endeavor to describe my experiences for you to spare myself further embarrassment." 
 " A humanoid form, or one capable of assuming such an appearance as would be appropriate.  It is an emotional request, admittedly, and one I am prepared to forego should the need arise.

 A mind and fortitude to freely contemplate the intricacies of Oneiroclast.  My only attempt to allow my thoughts to head that way led to my becoming First-Taken, though at great risk and greater loss. The Dohl'Denka had shown me kindness to that point, and it is only by a Fool's Luck that I am here, burning brightly in your care.

 The Potential to obtain Forbidden Knowledge, independent of Spite, Divergence or Corrupted Fate.  I have not yet dared to open this corner of my mind, for fear of the dire consequences described without proper ability and precaution.

 To pass through the veil of this world and others.  I would not deign to overreach into the domain of the Lady of Passages, if this is indeed something owed to her. Every time a layer of the world around me has been peeled back, and I find myself in another realm, I am beholden to the kindness of those around me to either guide or free me. I would see myself able to cross these exchanges by my own power, or even guiding those sheep who find themselves needing herding.  Or at least not find myself trapped as a mouse. "  Even now, in this place, a lifetime of habit was hard to shake from his manner of speaking. 

" Power, infamy, ability... rivaling that of Named Beasts.  The Veilbeasts were truly terrible to behold. Their power and the cursed wounds they delighted in spreading. They  killed me ,"  Miryks finished after a pause, almost confused. How could he have forgotten that?  "Or at least, a version of me,"  he quickly added. Death was rapidly becoming an old friend.

Miryks's mind raced over the countless and unimaginable powers they had been pitted against. The towering Zin-Lath'rah. The trio of the Nightmare, Unsung, and Witch Kings. Saint Rothe. Nightmare Witches. Dreamgods. Existence virtually overflowed with creatures and beings that dwarfed his previous ability to an insane degree. The golden eyes of Caus'fel and the impossible  speed ,  foresight , reality warping.  " The reality replacement of Caus'fel. "  He added softly.  "Kakasheji'fol, one of the Dalharen-D'Inlé,"  Miryks finished, his voice finding its strength again.  "He caught my blade between two fingers, you see, with the most absurd motion. It was as if my sword striking him was a reality he was not pleased with, so he substituted it for one of his own. The strike was not an action I dared attempt a second time." 

These names and titles blazed white hot in his mind, though he was adrift. His understanding of them was infantile, at best. He could only hope his meager words painted a more complete picture for the Kinder and her sacred duty.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Adding +2 to Diplomacy and Local with my Guile Pool.
  Diplomacy  - (1d20+22)[ 26 ] 
  Local  - (1d20+13)[ 17 ]  The Enforcer Caus'fel, who bent reality to his whim
  Religion  - (1d20+8)[ 18 ]  The Dreamgods
  Perception  - (1d20+21)[ 35 ]  If the Kindler's apparel bears any sign of the Dreamgods or their names
 
Stevesciguy
   

Erik's mind clicked over a few potential answers, but dismissed them just as quickly. He didn't even know what the Kindler would  want  to gain. Why  should  She step beyond the bounds of this Rite? She seemed to be looking for something, there was a "correct" answer, but what?

She'd expressed some excitement over the World Shards, but those were worth fragments to her, not the power of another Authority.

"To see her Lord succeed" was a cute appeal to emotion, though he strongly doubted she wanted that sort of patronizing answer, particularly given the anger that still burned within her over her neglect. There had been many Lords before him, and if he failed, there could well be many Lords after him.

Asking to enter a second Rite was something he  could  do, but that would likely be a dumb question at best and a doomed attempt at a power-grab by a foolish madman at worst. He'd only barely just learned what his duties were under his current Rite, and he didn't need more power anyway. He just wanted his guide back. Not to mention that whatever rules governed the Rite may well forbid a being from having multiple.

He was clueless. What she wanted - what she wanted from  him  - he couldn't piece together.

He let out a rare, frustrated sigh. Frustrated at his own limited perceptions. Frustrated at his missteps. Frustrated at being dropped in a world not meant for mortal minds to understand.

Whatever the test had been. He'd failed it.

"  I can tell you're probing for something, Kindler, but I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you. I can see the test, but the answer you're looking for is beyond me. What you have to gain, or why you should give me such a blessing - I don't know.  "

Those last three words tasted like ash. He wasn't used to saying them. But it was better to tell the truth than to spit out something else.

 
 Spoiler: OoC 
Sense Motive once more

Sense Motive:  (1d20+15)[ 20 ] 
 
Mornings
      
    "From 'metal man' to Dalharen-D'Inlé is quite the leap. But perhaps I now better understand your plight."     The Kindler seemed much more receptive to his words this time. Though the stain of his previous suggestion had evidently not been completely dismissed. The Kindler paused a moment to consider each of his words, before finally addressing them each in turn.     "That is quite the list, but a step in the right direction."     In truth, he did not understand most of the beings he had crossed paths with, but he could understand the sense of helplessness they made him feel. He did not know the strange man, Caus'fel, was. Only that he referred to himself as an 'Enforcer'. Presumably that held some meaning even here. At least, he hoped so.  [Miryks: Diplomacy - Success]   [Miryks: Knowledge (Local) - Failure] 

As a Nightmare once himself, he had gained some intrinsic understanding of the various entities which populated the Dream Worlds. The most influential or powerful dream creatures, be they Nightmares or otherwise were referred to as 'Dreamgods'. They were not 'divine' per-se, but were worshiped by many dream creatures as gods nonetheless. Many of the Dreamgods had created great numbers of dreams, ushering and shaping the great untamed energies of the Imaginary Worlds to expand their households. The Nightmare Worlds were no different. There were truly divine things within those worlds, but the 'gods' they had recognized were not among them. They chose their own gods and rebelled against the injustice and lunacy of a mad world which cursed and resented their very existence. It did not matter if the crown were gilded or solid gold. Within the Dream Worlds the only thing which separated the true and false was the number of minds which believed. Thus, they lifted up their false idols with gibbering zeal, reveling in the Great Lie - that one day it will be made real. While Miryks did not know the names of the Dreamgods himself, he was sure he was recognize such a thing should he come upon it. The Kindler's attire carried no relevant symbols or iconography of such things. Nothing related to the Dream Worlds at all. If nothing else, he was now certain whatever he purpose, it was not motivated by any business or loyalty with the Nightmare Worlds.  [Miryks: Knowledge (Religion) - Success]   [Miryks: Perception - Success] 
    "Humanoid. Bipedal? If you're sure. There is a many, great and  terrible  things which do not walk upon two legs. Very well."     She seemed to talk a mental note of his requirement before moving on,     "You were already a being with the mind and fortitude to  'freely'  contemplate the mysteries of Oneiroclastic forms. That is how you even came to learn of such things.  Such was wasted on you.  But, to your credit, you possessed a will strong enough to wrest yourself free from the Dream and coalesce your fires here. No minor achievement."     Somehow she knew of his previous life. Perhaps the flame revealed the nature of his arrival. Perhaps she could read more in the fire than merely his voice. The Kindler's nature was a mystery to him.     "What you seek, you had already possessed. It is not that you were lacking in potential, only in knowledge and ability. Dream magic is something natively understood by Nightmare creatures, they can tap into it simply with feelings. But much as a Sorcerer might not know how to read,  doing  and  understanding  are vastly different things. A beast cannot refine that skill further, only hope it survives and attempt to navigate what works through trial-and-error. If you wish to learn to harness Oneiroclastic magic, you must be properly educated. Only Nightmare Witches, those of the Ros'wussrun race, wield such powers. Their education is harsh and begins young. Witches of the Vet'Cnros race, Witches of the Veil, have been known to also learn Dream Magic. But only the most skilled and celebrated students who have graduated from the greatest academies of the City-Plane of Duvan-Ku are welcomed to the Nightmare Worlds for such education; where the trails are said to dwarf those of the Witch City. Such is a dizzying and perilous life, of great cruelty and betrayal. Perhaps most similar to the Drow cultures of your former life, but still quite some worlds apart."    

To his second next request, the Kindler paused to consider his words.     "There is no way to accomplish this as you are. Knowledge which is forbidden, is forbidden  to you  - not everyone. It is no longer a problem if you are the exception. There is no simple way to become an exception for all knowledge however. Though corrupting your Fate is not inherently related to something being forbidden or not. The knowledge in question might simply not belong within the Fate you reside, corrupting it regardless of its sensitivity. My previous words are re-doubled again. It is meaningless to climb the ladder of inconsequential Worlds. As your place in the world expands, so too does your ability to share in its knowledge. The influence of your station does determine your access to greater words. Even the most insignificant creature of the Second World will possess a greater insight than even gods of the First World. There are beings chosen by greater powers to act on their behalf. These chosen are granted greater leniency in their learnings, but this is irrespective of what form you might take and merely the recognition of an individual... At the very least, it appears you cannot achieve your goals while you remain tied to the First World."    
    "Beholden to the powers of other planes. Is this not the case with the magic casters of your world as well? A wizard must take years of great care and preparations to bind and outsider or forces from another realm to allow himself to cross such thresholds. What do you think would be his fate, were he to be thrown across three or four in rapid succession? Surely he would be overwhelmed, no matter his skill. With not a moment of rest and hardly the time to even know just where he had landed - only to be cast out again. You will always be at your most vulnerable when you are stripped from the securities of your world and cast into a world which you are not native. This is only exasperated further if you do not possess the knowledge, skill or means to manage your own stability or that of your immediate surroundings. Some of the humans of your world have developed tools for this, as rudimentary as it might be. This is perfectly achievable by most beings of any world, as long as they have the training or equipment to better their chances of avoiding a Collapse. Within the Second World, the protections of the realm of Ashurbanipal prevent this threat. However, if you mean to traverse planes within a respective world, this is the realm of magic. If you wish to traverse the Worlds themselves... This is forbidden. Hence, why most who dare brave such crimes often do so at great peril. Rarely, if ever does such crossings go without incident, except in the case of the most skilled of smugglers who have braved the dark forlorn cracks of reality, seeking the safest modes of crossing. Inevitably such selfishness will cause damages, and justice will be dealt with a swift and terrible hand..."    
    "Harnessing the magic of the Second World sounds like your intention. There are ways to harness the influence of the Black, such as these 'Veilbeasts'. The creatures you speak of are merely a collection of spiritual waste which has gathered in the corruption. Feed for the Elil. They are known as Ramath'barra. They are of no consequence, but are suitable fodder for many races. The beings who are truly shaped by the Black and created by the First, are the Ramath'silinrul. This encompasses many types of creatures, such as the Dalharen-D'Inlé. These are not beings which are born. They were each carefully fashioned by hand by the First. Which is to say, you cannot become like Kakasheji'fol merely by a single Rite of Transfiguration. You would need to become Elil, then somehow win great favor and be elevated to such an existence - if such a thing is even possible. There has never been a  newborn  Ramath'silinrul. They are each as ancient as the Garden. There was not even Three Worlds when they first came to be. Thus, I cannot guide you in this, but I can clarify. You cannot achieve your other desires while pursuing this one. There has only ever been a single Elil Witch.  There will not be a second.  You would be fortunate to not be killed on sight, let alone be admitted into any school of magic. You would have better odds returning as a Nightmare and taking your chances in teaching yourself."    
    "There are  two  beings named Caus'fel. You mean the Enforcer which you encountered. There are many beings which protect the balance and function of the Lower Worlds. Enforcer is the name given to those who do such by dealing in force. All are evidently notable, possessing superior strength and power which typically exceed that of the Worlds which they protect. Caus'fel is unique in that regard, as he is both an Enforcer, and Child. A being created to serve the Houses of the Third World. Such a puissance largely makes irrelevant the powers of the Second or First World. It is a vertical tier of force. An unconquerable gap. There exist no means of lesser worlds to contest those of the Worlds above them. Your sword could not harm him. Your blade deign approach and was  swiftly reminded . There was no destiny nor Fate in your world which that could have been true. Thusly, was it turned. You yourself must become a greater soul before contemplating such things."    
    "This is a good direction."
"A better direction."
"Certainly a place to start."    
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (9,150xp)     (⮸ +60xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ TRUTH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DREAMS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BLACK  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
Zek'taur, The First Passage
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 13:44 AM  

The moments passed, but no matter how Erik struggled, he could find no answer in his contemplations. His soured words came tumbling out with a dissatisfied taste. He surrendered. Perhaps it was beyond him. The Kindler's expression was strange. Not dissatisfied, but expectant of such and etched with a familiar lament. It was as if she had been told the result to a problem which she already knew the answer, but it pained her to hear it anyways. What hope she held was one kept breathing by suspending her disbelief. Like abandoning the search for a lost child, so that you might turn away from the pain in the certainty of death. Erik could feel a strong hand rest on his shoulder. Not of the child bound in the water, but someone else.   I know. You never have.   There was something intangible. Formless. Something precious he was losing. An important memory with a lesson, perhaps like the moment in his life he learned of loyalty or love. Or the time he learned of compassion. Priceless things which could never be replaced. Without them....  Without them.  What was he without them? Was he just a sword? A tool? Or perhaps a Lord. He'd been changed.  Less than a man,  but more than a mortal. What was he, and what was a man whom had shed his very humanity? What was he who could not even recall the compassion of a father. The love of a mother. The love for a brother beyond the din of battle. He'd lost something irreplaceable.   ...These words were not meant for you.  

Her tone shifted. Gone was the pained gaze, replaced by one more firm.   If you cannot justly find cause or reason yourself, look not to me to provide it for you. You will need to settle your matters yourself. There are those with magics powerful enough to raise your Curator. They are not allies of course. You have none of those left, but I'm sure you can find a means of extorting what you want from them if you're cunning. I imagine it will not be long for a vengeful few to come seeking you. It would be best to secure the Passage and limit entry. Though, rats always have a habit of sneaking in inevitably.   For the first time, the Kindler felt distant and far removed. Not even her familiar rage flared in his mind. Only an absence, like the fading warmth of a once-occupied seat.  He felt alone.   [Erik: Sense Motive - Failure] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (71,350xp)     [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦   (⮸ +50xp)   
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
 ⬖  Greater World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)
⬖  Lesser World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)  
 ⭍ (Suspended)   Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight   
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※TRUTH ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)
※SECRETS ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)
※CAUTION ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)
※DEATH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※DESTINY ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)
※FATE ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)
※REALITY ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※BLACK ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)
※VOID ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※DESTRUCTION ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)
※COURAGE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※BRAVERY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 28% (28/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※OTHERWORLD ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)
※SALVATION ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)
※ANNIHILATION ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)
※PENANCE ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)
※ ASTRAY   ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SEALS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※WORLDS ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)
※CORRUPTION ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)
※SLAIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※DIVERGED ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)
※WONDER ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)
※ MOTIVES  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 28% (28/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※KEY-BEARER ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)
※CURIOUS ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)
※KNOWLEDGE ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)
※DIVINE ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)
※GODS ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)
 

     
Stevesciguy
   

As Erik felt the link between them go cold, he looked off into the watery distance, watching the fish, both dead and alive, swimming aimlessly between the twin surfaces of the ocean.

He could guess who those words  were  meant for. The Lord of Passages. The  first  Lord of Passages. The one who had struck this agreement before mortality itself was a concept. Was that the hand on his shoulder? The echo of a being from eons past, empathizing with him as his heart became just a little colder? Was that cold natural? Or was it being planted in him by some force he couldn't understand?

On Golarion, it wasn't uncommon for his colleagues to pen letters to their loved ones, to be delivered in the event of their death. Taking up arms for any reason had become even more dangerous after the Long Night. Only the foolish  expected  to make it out alive from every fight. Doubly so for those who even so much as  looked  at those tainted places, or actually dove into them.

Erik had never left any letters. All who might have received it died that night with the Steel Hand. What he might have called his family was gone, and in their absence he had thrown himself at the cracks in the world. He would find the key to the problem, or die trying, maybe leaving something behind for those who followed, if he was lucky.

Did he understand his error now? Was there going back? Was there a fire hot enough to reforge what he'd become?

"  Is this how it happened, then? Is it the destiny of every Lord to go cold inside? Or by some cruel twist of fate are you only brought those whose hearts have hardened?  "

 
 Spoiler: OoC 
Heavy question

Sense Motive:  (1d20+15)[ 22 ] 
 
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
Zek'taur, The First Passage
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 13:49 AM  

There was an inexorable distance slowly growing. A liminal space he could not see, but it was one he could feel. An itch, like a sense of Deja vu that was absent the memory, only the sensation of its second-coming. Some cruelly spinning cycle. A  spiral  all his own. A hall which he saw, but did not walk. A door at its end he knew he could never reach, and thus did not try. It was a sense of learned helplessness which he had experienced only once.  In Willowbrook.  Once again that shadow loomed long over his head. Desperately he pushed back the creeping dread he would never escape it.   There is an inherent risk to a Key-Bearer. Just as there is an inherent brevity in the prolonged existence of the Lord of Passages. It is a fleeting thing. A burden casually traded back to the Lady of Passages when the rite to exercise my Authority has passed in death. A heart soured by great responsibilities and our bittersweet partings. I remember each of them which came before you. All suffered greatly.  
  ...But no. This callousness is your own. Not any trial of Ashurbanipal. You were broken long before any key found you. Or perhaps never whole. Aimless. Without reason. Without purpose. Without anything to cherish. Without anything of value. Without even a soul... One of Saphsa'fel's playthings. You were created a hollow puppet. I imagine you shall die one as well.   The shuddering through him and the thin film of dust which was shaken from his body, was like the granular surface of ancient unfired porcelain or clay pottery. Like earthware rattling on a shelf. It told him all he needed to know;  he'd heard something he should not have.  Yet, he did not break. The wall of reinforcing energy suffusing the Flooded Passage held him together like cement cradling a pipe seconds from bursting. There was a cross of hot static racing across his skin.  Outrage and disgust.  Briefly the connection sparked between them. He felt only the terrible sense of shame and contriteness for a moment of belief in the man before her.   I do wonder if you've even been gifted a memory of it. His humanity. His passion in life.   Erik could feel some distant vision. Like staring through the turbulent reflection of a lake's face to see another world -  another him.    My words are for the one who carried that sword. Not his simulacre.   The petaled blade was violently snapped out from his grasp and sent tumbling into the abyss.   You are cold, because you are empty. The frothing absence in your heart is the great nothingness you have to give. I do not know if such dolls can live beyond their purpose. Though by the peril of Ashurbanipal, I doubt we will ever know... A not so 'bittersweet' parting, I'm sure.    [Erik: Sense Motive - Partial] 

The mental connection was once again silenced abruptly.
  It is time to be done with this business.  
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (71,440xp)     [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦   (⮸ +90xp)   
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
 ⬖  Greater World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)
⬖  Lesser World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)  
 ⭍ (Suspended)   Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight   
  ⭍   "Mysterious Blade of Ashurbanipal"   - The sword has been lost. The difficulty of all events and quests outside of Ashurbanipal have significantly increased. 
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 24% (24/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SECRETS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※CAUTION ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)
※DEATH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※DESTINY ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)
※FATE ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)
※ REALITY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※BLACK ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)
※VOID ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※DESTRUCTION ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)
※COURAGE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※BRAVERY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 29% (29/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※RECLAIMER ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※OTHERWORLD ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)
※SALVATION ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)
※ANNIHILATION ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)
※PENANCE ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)
※ ASTRAY   ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SEALS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※WORLDS ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)
※CORRUPTION ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)
※SLAIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※DIVERGED ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)
※WONDER ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)
※ MOTIVES  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 29% (29/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※KEY-BEARER ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)
※CURIOUS ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)
※KNOWLEDGE ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)
※DIVINE ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)
※ GODS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
Stevesciguy
   

Erik watched silently as the sword spiraled into the darkness. Ever since he'd taken the key, he'd made mistake after mistake. Taking the drop. The Key to Midnight. The Curator's death. And now this. "Cheated a lifetime of efforts as lord." Wasted. Much like he'd wasted each chance the Kindler had given him. He felt deflated. Defeated.  Empty. 

"   I did, once. In that time I hung in the ivy. His memories raced through my mind. Reached out to place that sword in my hand.   "

Another sigh. This one of disappointment. In himself and his efforts.

"   I'm sorry, Kindler. For everything that I'm not.   "

The words were barely a whisper. Too late to close the gap. The flames of her rage were like a warm hearth compared to the cold now between them.

He was a copy. Out there, somewhere, had been another Erik Ragnok. Why he'd been copied, or where he was now, were beyond him.

But if he had no soul, if he was absent of that passion, he had seen it once. He would cling to that moment. If there was a trait that he had inherited, it was that Erik Ragnok did not back down. He had failed today, but not tomorrow. If fate itself had decreed he would be no more than an empty puppet...  he would rage against that fate with the fury of a dying star. 

"   But I promise this, though the words may seem as empty as I am: If it is possible for a doll to become something more, this one will find the way.   "

Erik looked around at the fish, the monstrous serpents swimming in the Hollowed Tide around them. History may be chiseled in stone, but the future was yet to be written. Even if his voice was but a whisper, he would have a say in it.

She was right. Enough with this business. For today.

"  I suppose I should seal the passage, then. By the suggestion of both the Curator, and now yourself, though perhaps for different reasons. How do I do so?  "

 
 Spoiler: OoC 


Sense Motive:  (1d20+15)[ 21 ] 
 
Mornings
     
  Otherworld, Lesser Ashurbanipal
Zek'taur, The First Passage
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
Fireday, 14:02 AM  

Erik could recall those brief scenes. The light which flickered in his heart during those passing moments. It was unlike anything he had ever known before, The warmth which burned in that man's heart and the strength which pierced his mind was like a spike of iron running down his spine. There was something to protect. Somewhere he had to go.  Something he would leave behind.  Whatever tragedy awaited, it was an end he met on his own terms. Without regret nor hesitation. Sometimes those moments still came to mind. Dancing light. Distant candles in the darkness which pervaded his own aimlessness. He didn't know why her name came to him now. Coming and going like the aftertaste of a kiss he'd forgotten.  Ressa. 

The flickers of her faceless longing and the emerald of her dress burned themselves in his mind. Then it faded with the dawning of his conscious will's return.   Then perhaps there is hope yet for you.   The words landed flatly, but Erik could feel the sense of curiosity behind her chastisement. She had not expected him to to respond in the positive. She had not expected him to have seen anything at all. The mental connection was again restored, but she did not intend to linger on the matter. The exchange had gone bitter and there was work still to be done.

  You must provide payment to me each time you wish to make a change to a Passage which you cannot alter yourself. Though, it is not a poor idea to do now. Each time you relocate a Passage, such as moving it into the Veil. You will need to once again pay for any changes you wish to make. Moving a Passage in this permanent manner will erase any structures and changes you have created in a Passage... This can be exceptionally costly, as was the case for the Great Library. You must make absolutely sure the Passage rests where you intend to keep it before making any life-long investments into its infrastructure. Seals and other empowerments you might acquire in the future to strengthen your Passages will also be destroyed should you relocate it in this manner... The Passage will always revert to its most base state when relocated. This is also when it is the most vulnerable, as any restrictions you may have previously placed will also be removed. Allowing all of your enemies inside. Best to coordinate that... carefully.   From what he understood, if he were to seal the right to exit or enter the Passage now, he would have to pay the cost again after he moved the Passage to the World Veil.   Once you move the Passage, you will unleash chaos and harm of a likeness your mortal mind cannot fathom. You will undoubtedly be responsible for the death of billions of lifeforms, and they will know it was you. Ashurbanipal will not merely creep off quietly into the night. They will come in countless droves. Raining down upon you with relentless fury. Whatever damages you might cause cannot be simply undone. It will upset the balance of the Garden. Litigations of the Wheel and Council will be raised against you. Enforcers will be dispatched. Every Justice will hunt you and the great Matrons of the Third World will send delegations seeking answers, justly.  

None of the Kindler's words seemed to upset or unsettle her. It was as if she were recounting some great peril which had nothing to do with her. Erik understood that as the Lord of Passages, it did not matter if he was a mortal, or a doll, or whatever he might be. While he wielded the Authority of the Law of Passages, he was solely responsible for whatever actions he took with it. Though, he noted the Kindler's certainty in that there was nothing any such forces could do even if they  had  sought her out directly anyways.  Malicious compliance.  It was the only way he could describe it. Afalloch was more than willing to watch and allow him to fail. There could be no ramifications on her end, save for waiting for another Lord - but she had already put that behind her. Whatever her previous motivation, she had lost all interest in waiting again for his replacement.  Something had replaced that desire.  Now, she had some plans of her own. Though Erik could not even begin to understand just what those might be.   Presently, you are absent any friends. Librarian. Or Curator. You haven't the slightest clue as to the reason the Archivist sought you to take such drastic measures, or what comes next. His plan. Whatever this is. It died with him.   Erik had not wanted to admit it. Had hoped beyond hope that he could unravel the mystery, figure out the grand machinations of reality, piece the plan back together and continue on without Luntis. It was painfully clear that was an impossibility. He had managed on his own without his previous guide, the Surveyor, Balin Crofte.  Another man who died in his employ.  Though, he imagined the Surveyor's escape plan did not involve dimensional-keys. Something he had not considered til now - it suggested there had been a method of escape unrelated to Ashurbanipal and everything which followed. Unfortunately, this predicament was vastly more complex. Whatever the Curator's plan had been, it involved him still being alive to execute it.   As I'm sure you do not have a plan beyond whatever the Curator intended, It might be in your interest to change your strategy. You are mostly useless without a Curator. You can either purchase a new one, or seek out someone willing to accept payment for his return. Normally this would be a Teller... But, as you still owe a debt, I doubt much in the way of services will be provided to you. As most others will likely not parley with you... It might be in your interest to brave the most, extreme options...   Erik could feel where this was going, and he didn't like it.  [Erik: Sense Motive - Partial] 
  The Midnight Between will still entreat with you... Though you must be weary. It may be preferable to pay exorbitant prices, rather than risking being tricked via negotiations.  
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (71,540xp)     [⮯ Abstract -3,450]   ¦   (⮸ +100xp)   
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
 ⬖  Greater World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)
⬖  Lesser World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)  
 ⭍ (Suspended)   Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight   
  ⭍   "Mysterious Blade of Ashurbanipal"   - The sword has been lost. The difficulty of all events and quests outside of Ashurbanipal have significantly increased. 
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 25% (25/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SECRETS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CAUTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DEATH  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※DESTINY ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)
※FATE ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)
※ REALITY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ BLACK  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※VOID ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※ DESTRUCTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※COURAGE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※BRAVERY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▰▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 30% (30/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ RECLAIMER  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SALVATION ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)
※ ANNIHILATION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※PENANCE ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)
※ ASTRAY   ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SEALS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ WORLDS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※CORRUPTION ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)
※SLAIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)
※RETURNED ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※DIVERGED ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)
※WONDER ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)
※ MOTIVES  ▰▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 30% (30/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※KEY-BEARER ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)
※CURIOUS ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)
※ KNOWLEDGE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DIVINE ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)
※ GODS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  
 "It seems as though we are in agreement, power is beholden to knowledge. Merely possessing the ability or tools to perform great deeds is useless in the hands of the untrained."  Miryks conjured an image of his Aasimar form raising his arms wide and inclining his head slightly, referring to himself.  "My knowledge of the Second and Third world is regrettably limited to those creatures and people who I've come across and seen the extent that their power dwarfed my own. In that respect, and by virtue of being First-Taken, I feel like a great reservoir of possibility without the necessary knowledge to shape my path." 

Conversation flowed more easily from him now. There was a balance to be struck with both his words and his desires. The Kindler seemed earnest in her desire to divine the form of his choosing, and it seemed her ire was reserved for when choices wasted this reward, as opposed to taking advantage of it. Anything from the first world would inherently restrict his growth, so Miryks was stuck trying to explain something to her that he had frighteningly little experience with. Even words were getting misconstrued, their literal (or alternate), definitions clouding his intentions. This was not a time for gilding the lily, as it could only serve to work against him.

 "In absence of harnessing the Third World,"  Miryks left a slightly longer pause between the words here, almost questioningly so,  "-then it would be best to be of the Second World, and acting on behalf of a 'greater power'. Who or what, I could not say. Only that accepting the Second World, without a plan to continue growing from there, is folly. There is knowledge forbidden to me as I am, and further still once I am forged."  Miryks took a moment to recall a passage he had once heard, speaking it softly for the Kindler's benefit.  " Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much, because they live in the gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat. "

"Regardless of the tier, power can be quite subjective, or even limiting. In the worst cases it may be reliant on outside forces to function properly, or at all. Cleric's words fall flat unless they reach the ear of their gods, for example. Being able to orientate myself, catch my footing regardless of the terrain."  Miryks aimed a curse at himself.   Still too expressive, got to be specific.    "If I find myself forced through several 'thresholds' from where I once stood, I would like the confidence that my own power would not forsake me in a strange land. That is not to say,"  Miryks added hastily,  "-that a boon from one stronger than me would not be welcome. Indeed, working for and alongside one more accomplished than myself has its attraction... If you do not mind my familiarity, how did you come to be here?"  Miryks wondered if the Lady of Passages conferred any special powers or knowledge onto her faithful.

 "Notoriety and a certain uniqueness in my abilities may help gain attention as well,"  Miryks mused aloud.  "Taking this gift and honing the abilities to a fine point depends on obtaining present and future knowledge. Am I correct that a novel power or a certain renown would make my assistance more attractive for a greater power? Whatever the decision made here, further growth and development is absolutely possible, maybe even unavoidable. I intend to follow this as far as it will take me, and then blaze my own trail through the stars." 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Arcana  - (1d20+8)[ 9 ]  The Ramath'silinrul
  Religion  - (1d20+8)[ 25 ]  The Rite of Transfiguration
  Planes  - (1d20+10)[ 17 ]  The first, second and third worlds (Using my last Guile point)
  Diplomacy  - (1d20+20)[ 37 ]  How much the Kindler is willing to help decide my form
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 22 ]  How much the Kindler is permitted to help decide my form
 
Mornings
      
The Kindler took a moment to consider the flame's silent words.     "...Fair points."     His questions regarding her own position seemed to come at an unexpected time.     "I am a priestess of the Lady of Passages. During times of ritual I resume my duties as Kindler. Otherwise, I spend the majority of my time in Lesser Worlds, doing her holy work. When it is time to perform such duties, I am called upon."     From her words, it seemed less relevant as to 'how she came here' versus what she would be doing. If some unknowable god-thing was so inclined to call upon the ghostly creature directly, he imagined she would be placed in any location it so desired - much in the same way he found himself tossed about now.

Though he was, or had been a Nightmare creature himself for some brief amount of time, he was not exceptionally familiar with the beings called 'Ramath'silinrul'. The great hound whom had walked with him during the Black March, Kakasheji'fol, was one such being. There was such a time where a Nightmare could be mutated and bent beyond the logic of its kind, thereby becoming Ramath'barra.  A Veilbeast.  The creature's like Kakasheji'fol devoured such cancerous deformities, maintaining the purity of the Nightmare Worlds. They were the natural predators of such things. There were other such creatures beyond the Dream Worlds which were also Ramath'silinrul, but he knew of none of them.  [Miryks: Knowledge (Arcana) - Partial] 

Dream creatures did not die when their forms were destroyed. Rather, they reverted to the same 'life-fire' which flickered into existence at the time of their creation. The Rite of Transfiguration was the ritual which allowed a dream's flame to be rekindled into a new form. Fires from long-dead dreams were carried for untold years, often centuries. Some flocked around beings of great power. They were carried in ceaseless pilgrimages to shrines dedicated to the various Dreamgods', hoping to win their favor and a blessing which would strengthen them for the many trials ahead. Inevitably, each fire and dream creature participating would subject themselves to an unknown trial. Those who participated were known as a Supplicant. Those who possessed the fortitude to persist even after true-death, when their last light was extinguished, were allowed to assume a new form. The first dream to submit themselves to the trial, was almost certain to be destroyed, but held the honor of the title 'First-Taken'. If the First-Taken somehow, miraculously survived, the speed and the number of blessings they possessed were taken into account to determine a suitable reward.  [Miryks: Knowledge (Religion) - Partial] 
 The Three Worlds.  Miryks had not even known of such a thing until after he was already dead. The First World was comprised of his universe, or rather, it  contained it.  Encapsulated it. He could not even begin to understand what that actually might mean. The limitless number of planes spanning across the Spheres of Creation. The elemental realms, the abyss, every theorized crevasse, every legendary wizard's realm. All of it was inside this place. Yet, it was  one  of the Mortal Worlds. Which meant there was  more  than one. The First World was a fold containing an unknown number of infinite realities. How many times could something hold infinity? He couldn't even begin to guess. But at the very least, there were the 'Waking Worlds', places outside of his domain. He knew nothing of them. The Second World on the other-hand, was the threshold between the real and imagined. The domain of the Waking Worlds ended somewhere here, and the Imaginary Worlds begun. The Dream Worlds, more specifically, the Nightmare Worlds, were what he knew. There was of course countless Imaginary Worlds, but not all related to dreams, and then of course countless Dream Worlds beneath them. The Nightmare Worlds were a small fraction of the Dream Worlds which existed - a minority. Yet, each was as expansive as the whole of his universe where Golarion resided. An infinite coil of creation. Most of the Nightmare Worlds resembled the Maelstrom. A clutch of chaos and tumultuous energy clashing in dense areas of formless power. These places were not physical in nature, but boundless universes for the consciousness. There were a rotating series of rolling planes which cycled into and out of existence, often serving as hubs for creature's like him. It was here Nightmare Beasts gathered, as they had no reality of their own. Living in the crackling clouds of raw nightmare energy. Elsewhere, they were treated as either a slave or resources to be harvested and domesticated by more sophisticated beings. It was a bitter existence. On the vast opposite end of the spectrum, he knew absolutely nothing of the Third World which had not been recently revealed. It was merely a concept newly introduced to him.  [Miryks: Knowledge (Planes) - Partial] 
    "Your request is quite clear now..."     After a moment of consideration the Kindler shrugged,     "Well, I don't suppose there is little else to consider. You must become a Sunjatha'la to do, most, if any of these things. The Lampus races do not work in any of the ways you seek. The Ros'wussrun are a meritocracy, but value ingenuity and independence, believing in the Will of the Dream to thresh the unworthy and humble the gifted. They will watch and allow you to fail in the most dire of ways. Vet'Cnros are brutal and savage. Their rituals are cruel and dictated only by traditions of whatever Cult to which an individual may belong. Their great cultural wars puts them at odds, not only with each other, but the rest of the Second World. The damages their in-fighting leaves upon us all leave them as something to be deeply resented. None save for those already associated with such a Cult would parlay with a Veil Witch, and if you dare entreat with one outside of you Cult... Well, now you'll be hunted by your own kin. The races of the L'Lotha are stagnant and idle, far removed from any such things, and stuck frozen in their ancient ways. There is little hope for growth or potential there."     She spoke as if thinking aloud absently, working her way down a mental list while considering his requests. The specter did not seem to be particularly reserved in her willingness to explain which things might be a poor choice, or why one might be better than another.  [Miryks: Sense Motive - Success] 

Her attention shifted back towards the flame.    "The value of a being within the Second World, to magical beings, holds a numerical worth. This is a being's Aptitude in magic, called Arcane Aptitude. This is a culture of superiority which pervades most Worlds, and most beings of a higher power. This sense of value is made the most prominent for the Sunjatha'la. Their traditions are elaborate and ostentatious. The peak of folly paraded proudly. It is both flamboyant and grotesque. These are the Witches of Duvan. They exist within a complex social structure of castes, classes, titles and lineage all set to revolve around a decrepit arcane matriarchy. At its heart this entire society is ruled by Aptitude and dogmatic antiquated law. For those which reign at the top of this social ladder, it is a haven. A perfect place to refine one's ability and learn. For those below, it is a reality worse than death. A vicious ladder of social tiers slick with blood and betrayal. Despite the state of Duvan, everyone loves Sunjatha'la. They make up the majority of the Witches in civil worlds. They are the skilled teachers, lawmakers and protectors - the arm of the Magic World. They are naturally blessed as a race by the Mados and those beings still loyal to the First Witch King. If you are talented, you will be educated. If you are gifted, you will be mentored. If you are a genius-savant, you will be adored and celebrated."    

The Kindler chuckled to herself,     "In Duvan, their say 'a genius has a thousand mothers'. The purity of a birth, as rare as it is, is treated as its own kind of trail. Childbirth is something to be dealt with in the utmost secrecy. Most Witches will leave the Second World completely during this perilous time, so that they may deliver the baby without prying eyes. If the child is ungifted, or a male, it can be quietly destroyed. Such a blight would dishonor a noble house and could tarnish an entire Witch Clan's standing within the city - a threat worse than death. On the other hand, a gifted child will be paraded like a golden trophy for all to see. Both to disrupt attempts of other Clans to steal the babe, and to gloat while bolstering their social clout.... This is the kind of world in which Sunjatha'la are born. With your rights as First-Taken, you could be born a genius Witch, of a likeness not seen in eons. Others will claw out their own eyes for a moment of your time. Clans will kill for the right to wed their kith to you. Great teachers will beg for the privilege to have taught you, and great beings from other realities will pull their gaze from the unfathomable to rest on you... But such stardom is costly, and dangerous. Few can be truly trusted in the plane of Duvan'Ku, but fewer still for those who walk at the pinnacle of this society, where most wish to drag you down or steal what boons they can."    

Once again she paused as she move forward toward her explanation's conclusion.     "...You of course cannot be a male. Even worse if you were a  gifted  male. A house would prefer to be rid of you quickly, but it would complicate matters if you had any merits worth considering. Those few who are allowed to live are typically abandoned in the First World. Sometimes taken as butlers and caretakers. Or in the case of some gifted males, enslaved as animals and used as studs for those times which might require ritual insemination... A secretive and private affair never spoken of. The culture of the Sunjatha'la is built around the idea that their race was created in the likeness of the Mados, to be made suitable as her vessels; which is why females typically possess greater aptitude. This... is actually rather accurate, despite it being seen more a folklore in their society."     She pointed at the flame, as if to direct his attention,     "This does meet most of your needs, but do keep in mind, traditionally Sunjatha'la magic is very limited - at least when compared to a greater standard. They primarily only focus on learning three systems of magic. Each one of these systems both fully encapsulates and surpasses all magic of your reality, but this is... remarkably constrained when compared to the magical races elsewhere in the Second World, even other Witches. This can be rectified with your gifts, allowing you access to powers beyond what one would be capable of."     The Kindler clutched her chin in thought, but seemed fairly pleased as she seemed to play though various scenarios in her mind.  [Miryks: Diplomacy - Success] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (9,150xp)     (⮸ +60xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ TRUTH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DREAMS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BLACK  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  
 "Sunjatha'la."  Miryks let the unfamiliar word echo in his mind as he considered the Kindler's words. Keeping a bipedal form had been to keep something of himself familiar, he had not even considered that his gender would be changed as a necessity of the forging. It was both frightening and thrilling; gender was such a small thing to sacrifice.  "It is the right choice. The Vet'Cnros do not appeal to me and the Ros'wussrun don't feel as though they could set me on a path that suits my desires." 
 "Any trepidation I may have had with joining the Sunjatha'la you have already addressed. By becoming 'a genius Witch, of a likeness not seen in eons', much of the hierarchical and antiquated structure works for me instead of against. Likewise, the limitation of their three systems of magic is a hurdle that the gifts of the First-Taken can help overcome. Even if it were not the case, this particular limitation doesn't trouble me as much with the proper application. The choice I make now is but the first domino in a long line of choices and branching paths. Given enough time, anyone can become an "Expert" at many things. It's only the talented few, the truly  gifted , who can master their art...
"-but the spark of a gift can quickly be extinguished without the proper care. It needs tending to grow from a small ember to a raging inferno. Teachers who are not only available, but eager to stoke that flame are almost as important as the ability itself. How many culture defining talents faded into nothingness, simply for lack of access to the right instrument or instruction? The world's greatest military mind could live out their life as a farmer, none the wiser to their squandered potential." 

Miryks's growing excitement was palpable as abstract thoughts solidified into an executable idea, and in no small part due to the Kindler's assistance. Once he had made his thoughts plain, as well as his limitations, she seemed to open up. Without her patience and guidance, he very well may have ended up a metal man with his head stuck in the mud.

 "As far as Sunjatha'la society and intrigue goes, forewarned is forearmed, as they say. True skill inherently attracts ire and jealousy, both from above and below. Even accounting for the training and experience I have with plots and betrayal, I imagine the Sunjatha'la employ tricks that would be difficult for me to even conceive as I am now. Still, the risk seems worth the reward; to place myself in a perfect place to refine my abilities and learn, as you said. Being universally loved, making up lawmakers and protectors? Yes, the Sunjatha'la shall do nicely." 
 "I am curious, though, how much will I remember of my previous lives? Will my flame, once forged, remember the name Miryks? It would make sense to leave him behind, in a way. Bearing my regrets and sins, being pardoned, in order for my spark to start truly anew. Ultimately, the freshest slate is a blank one. All impurity truly burned away."  Even if this was the case, Miryks recognized it for what it was. Losing something small to gain so much more. He would have no memory of what he had lost, so there was no wisdom in lamenting its absence.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Planes  - (1d20+8)[ 25 ]  Duvan'Ku
  Local  - (1d20+11)[ 20 ]  The Sunjatha'la
  Religion  - (1d20+8)[ 24 ]  The Mados
  History  - (1d20+7)[ 14 ]  The First Witch King
  Arcane  - (1d20+8)[ 14 ]  Arcane Aptitude
   Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 27 ] 
   Diplomacy  - (1d20+20)[ 40 ] 
 
Mornings
      
The beasts of the Nightmare Worlds did not having words or meanings for those various races of Witch which hailed from the Waking World. They were simply  Witches.  That was also about as far as common knowledge went in that regard. Dreams were not physical things. Most rarely, if ever, interacted with material reality. The same could be said of this 'Witch City'. Sometimes dreams were stolen away to such a place, but almost none ever returned. Almost nothing was known of those races which lived in other realities, or their histories and cultures, just as he knew very little of things beyond the reality Golarion resided.  [Miryks: Knowledge (Local) - Failure] [Miryks: Knowledge (Religion) - Failure] [Miryks: Knowledge (History) - Failure]   [Miryks: Knowledge (Planes) - Partial] 

Arcane Aptitude was also a force of importance in the Dream Worlds. For Nightmare Beasts, this was their ability to control and manipulate the Dream and command greater powers. In a way, it was also a measure of station, as only apex creatures possessed great aptitude. Unfortunately, this was also the reason such beasts were hunted by the other races of the Dream. Harvesting such nightmares was of great value. Unfortunately, beyond that it was difficult to know more. Nightmare creatures were simple and primitive versus more developed cultures.  [Miryks: Knowledge (Arcane) - Partial] 
    "As this is a Rite of Transfiguration, not one of Cleansing, your memories will, in part, inevitably return. It may take many years, by which time you will be more complete in your new life than the memories of your old one. But all the same, they will return. To what degree, varies from flame to flame. The brighter in life you shined, the greater will be its shadow in your new life. It is the hope that with each new forging the new life will loom larger than the last, building greater achievements with each rebirth. Though, you perished remarkably early. Persisting as little more than an echo within the Dream before becoming a nightmare. You accomplished little in life. Thus, it is unlikely most of the mundane memories of your mortal days will survive the Kindling, but your consciousness, motivations, skills and instinct will. This is the highest art of arcane reincarnation."     He wasn't completely sure what to expect from the ordeal, but it was at least good news that his conscious being would be allowed to persist on in his new life.  Reincarnation,  as it were. It was unlikely that he would retain much of the memories of past experiences, but those were merely the method by which his 'self' was made. That self born from those experiences would live on, even if the memories that made it so did not.  Such was the price of power.   [Miryks: Sense Motive - Success]   [Miryks: Diplomacy - Success] 
    "If this is acceptable, let me know and we shall proceed to your blessings and entitlements."    
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (9,220xp)     (⮸ +70xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ TRUTH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DREAMS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BLACK  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
Stevesciguy
   

"  Right. What's the price to seal the Passage, then? If it won't bankrupt me to do it twice I may as well have the added protection while I work out my next steps.  "

Erik had grimaced as Afalloch outlined the precise ramifications of moving the Passage. With what little he knew, he was able to guess that there would be absolute chaos in the wake, but  billions ... part of his duty as Lord was to keep order. Moving the Passage would be in direct contradiction to not only that, but his own personal values. He had set out to do something,  anything  about the corruption plaguing his world. If he understood correctly,  he could do that now . But at the cost of countless other worlds? Was that a sacrifice he could make? Luntis had certainly thought so, even thought it  imperative .

That thought lead into the next. Luntis' plan. He'd come here to discover the world he'd sought to preserve was... an arcane construct? Imaginary? While it still held great value to him personally, Erik struggled to imagine what about it could possibly outweigh all of the other worlds he'd be leaving to ruin by moving the Passage. It cemented the idea in his mind, he needed  Luntis . Another Curator wouldn't do. Though the possibility he might have to go back to the Midnight Between left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he didn't look forward to telling Luntis the sword was lost, assuming he succeeded. For all he knew, the entire plan hinged on it.

The sword carried by the Erik Ragnok That Was. It seemed that name - Ressa - hammered at the back of his skull harder and harder with every step he took. She was important, and  something  was screaming at him to find her. The hand on his shoulder, the white flame he could now summon, the sense that he had gone somewhere, that it had been worth it despite what he was leaving behind. The thought had crossed his mind before, but it was becoming clear now. These were not mere memories. Was it possible...?

Erik started to sift through those memories, feelings, visions. Not only those that had just leapt into his mind, he did his best to reach even farther back, to remember that torrent of half-obscured people and scenes from when he climbed the ivy. Was it possible that the Erik Ragnok That Was wasn't entirely gone? That the barest echo of a whisper remained? It was difficult to tell if what he was experiencing were random flashes... or an attempt to instruct him. Well if they  were  instructions, then he was now doing his best to truly listen.

These were the actions of a desperate man, but Erik hated to admit that he  was  desperate. The options in front of him were between bad and worse, and if there was anything there, it was worth the potential embarrassment of misunderstanding what was happening to him.

 
 Spoiler: OoC 
Making weird rolls has never been bad before, right 🙂

Knowledge(Local) on Ressa Crawsford:  (1d20+7)[ 25 ] 
Knowledge(Nobility) on Ressa Crawsford:  (1d20+7)[ 9 ] 

I have no idea if this will work at all so I'm throwing both of these at the wall since idk which is more appropriate

Sense Motive on the Erik Ragnok That Was:   (1d20+15)[ 16 ]   (1d20+15)[ 26 ]
Rerolled in ooc using luck pool
Perception on the Erik Ragnok That Was: (1d20+12)[ 21 ] 
 
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  
 "That is good. There are many moments, memories and decisions in my life that I hold no great love for. More so when I was young, there were times I wondered what I could have made of myself given a different start. A loving family. Teachers who cared about teaching. Friends who didn't bully me to make themselves feel better about their own pathetic lives."  Miryks sighed wistfully, staring at the endlessly swirling sky above.  "It's a poor man who blames others for his own actions, though. Those choices are what helped refine my abilities, what led me to my art. It seems no small boon to keep the skills and abilities I developed without being held back by the adversity that led to them. So for that, I thank you Kindler."
"I'm not naive enough to believe this new life will be any easier, though. Hopefully, the tact and intuition that was hard won over my life will help me navigate through the lies and half truths of the Sunjatha'la who try to take advantage of me. Those seeking to craft me into their personal tool will find me a difficult metal to shape."  He allowed himself a small smile at this, poking fun at his first ill-advised request of The Kindler.

There was nothing further Miryks could think of to request, but he was along for the ride at least as much as he was the one making the decisions.  "If there's nothing I haven't touched upon, then yes. Let us proceed." 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Diplomacy  - (1d20+20)[ 22 ] 
  Arcana  - (1d20+8)[ 21 ]  Arcane Reincarnation
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 23 ] 
 
Mornings
     
  Five-thousand Fragments here. If you decide to move it into the Veil, the price will be ten-times this. The energy required to dissuade the great number of angry visitors seeking to enter a Lesser World will be far more costly than the handful capable of visiting a Greater World.   It was a modest fee, but he took note of the stipulation for what would come after. He still struggled to grasp the motions which Luntis had saw. The meaning behind the truth his eyes had witnessed. Despite what bits he had learned and what he could gather, it was as if he were wandering in darkness. His mortal mind couldn't see an inch beyond his nose. It was just words,  noise  lacking meaning.

 He pained.  Grimacing. Shifting his attention towards the mirror of recollections flashing in pieces across the surface of his thoughts. He mentally grasped, clutching at it. Like a gelatinous sludge it oozed between the proverbial fingers of his mind. Each pained effort seemed to push it away, as if he were grappling with a bale of smoke.  He had to know.  The answers were there,  somewhere.  He had to go deeper.  Much deeper.  He thought back to those moments he could recall within the Betwixt. Tried to visualize the figment of that  'Erik that Was' . The mantle place.  That room.  He could envision it, like an oil-slick floor, he tip-toed across the precarious.  That fragile moment.  He was there. He could see it. Piece it together. Pull back the blurred pieces from beyond. Like a mirror-world reflected in frosted glass, he pulled them out of the dark where they were buried in the clay of the lightless dark.  Then came the pain.  The real pain.  [Erik: Will Save (DC 18) Vs Severance - (27) Passed]  
 He was screaming now.  Blood begun to run from a nostril as he clutched his head and trembled. Each passing moment was an iron rod being hammered into his mind. Sharp cracks of black fissures splinted across his face as if it were made of ice.  He was there again.  He could see it, frozen in his thoughts. All was still, except the woman in the black veil.  Lalaphra.  There was no sound. He did not need to hear. He could not see her face but she shook her head in amused disbelief, and somewhere behind that death veil...

 She smiled. 
   
  ?????????, ????????????
Ulbeph, The Flooded Passage
Winter AR 4716, 12th of Calistril,
First World, World Line 6, Cycle 2
1st Day of the 2nd Cycle of L'Lotha  
 Against the red.  Racing. Tracing the lines. Crashing through woven crimson knots of light, he twisted and bent. His thoughts snapped back to his body and the world plunged down as a hole was punched through the second sky of the ocean below. Like a ripping maelstrom, the water flushed him out from Zek'taur and into the vast field of darkness from the World beyond.

Caught in the current of a vicious tourbillion thousands of feet across, his reality was ripped and tossed. He was buffeted with a stream of memories. Horrible memories.  Screaming.  So much screaming. He choked, gagging on meaningless visions of gore and fire. A calamitous snap from the heavens, and golden lightening which split the sky itself. Somewhere in the stream of flickering still images, bits colored themselves. It was like staring into a thousand strobing lights. Each was blinding, making it even more impossible to look at the others, but small bits lingered in his mind as if he were seeing spots after staring at the sun.  They were burned into his eyes. 
 Reyen . The iron-jawed man's faded face played across the lights. Reyen Crawsford had believed in him. More than anyone else ever had. Trusted him with the things most precious to him.  His family.  Yet, still he'd failed. Even still, the Lord of Passages trusted him.  One last time.  Trusted him to do what was right. A dark surge, like a lightless bolt of lightening flashed through him, rending off bits of his pauldron's and sundering the garniture's right arm harness. Her face.  The Curator's smile.  He could see her again distantly. Reyen's daughter had been steadfast in her duty. Together they had built Ashurbanipal stronger than it had ever been. He had only wished he'd paid greater heed to Ressa's words. He'd given more to the Library, more to the Kindler, than anything else. He had built an immense power, but in doing so became blind to those happenings beyond his domains. Erik lurched, as if he were about to regurgitate whatever might be left from whatever he might have eaten under the Justice's watch. That man had lost a taste for it.  The violence.  Bloodshed. Death. He had no heart for battle.  [Condition: Armor Broken Condition - Your Armor Is Broken And Needs Repair] 

There was no number which existed that could depict the death he'd sown. The Curator's words had fallen on deaf ears as he continued to give, and give more of himself. To right perceived wrongs. To be just. Honor the man who could have been his father, and do right by the Great Library. He shivered as a thousand-thousand memories blinked like a wall of countless eyes. The Kindler adored him, and with the horror of her darkly love, each passing of his sword silenced the lives of the great infinite. Annihilating all the living and unliving. All those who were and had been. Killing the very futures of even the unborn.  [Erik: Knowledge (Abstract) - Partial]   [Erik: Abstract Debt -7,217] 

A second snap of dark energy slapped him in the back of his head like a sledgehammer, as if to end what it had begun.  That's all you get for this price.  The eerie words crawled across his face like a steaming breath of spiders. The static of the soundless speech made his skin itch. As he breached the threshold into this new world, a wave of knowledge pressed itself into his brain like a handful of wriggling worms crawling into his ears.  Ulbeph.  A Passage which he now controlled within the Second Cycle. Of course, he didn't understand any context beyond the titles, but it had been a start. As his eyes adjusted and the bitter storm of lights faded, his gaze was drawn out to the world beyond.  A great city ruin beneath the waves.  It was the city he'd seen once before, or at least a world like it. The corpses of skyscrapers loomed out into the darkness of the sea above, like haunted obelisks. A sense flashed in his heart. A blooming awareness that he was not alone.

The Kindler manifest in a twisting clutch of shadow. Turning once before flowering into a humanoid shape.   I dare not inquire as to if this was intentional... But I welcome the change.   Erik froze for a moment, unsure at first who had come before him. It was not only her voice, but manifestation as well. It had all been changed. She was a being shaped by an eerie looming beauty. A dress shaped by lightless void and writhing prehensile shadows which interwove with her black hair. Her supple skin glinted like a polished stone, but a series of gleaming cracks flared out with golden light from a fracture laced across her shoulder and breast. She was dreadful and fair, with an hungry gaze that made him quake beneath some immeasurable weight. His awareness sharpened. Changed.  As had her name and role within the Passage.  He did not understand just what that might mean, but his newly matured senses as Lord understood that to be a matter of indescribable importance. Just as the World had changed, so too did Ashurbanipal.

   [POTENTIAL] [SOUL] RECLAIM PASSAGE - ULBEPH,
THE FLOODED PASSAGE    
The Lord of Ashurbanipal gains this Soul Potential. He retains this Potential in any form, Aspect or derivative iteration of himself for as long as he remains in the game. Ulbeph, the Flooded Passage, is added to the game upon acquiring this Potential. The Lord of Ashurbanipal may move and control this Passage in similar ways as any other Passage. However, the unique features of Ulbeph are permanently active for this Passage. The Lord of Ashurbanipal gains Corruption Resistance equal to his HD + 2. If he already possesses Corruption Resistance from another source, it increases by this amount instead. Additionally, while within the same Cycle as this Passage, the Lord of Ashurbanipal may as an immediate action, pay Fragments to the Kindler to succeed Stability Checks. The cost and option to use this ability may fluctuate based on the Lord's rapport with the Kindler, but begins at a base cost equal to the CR or DC x 1d100 + (any social modifiers).

  UNIQUE PASSAGE FEATURES  
 ⮞ FLOODED PASSAGE:  Ulbeph retains the [FLOODED PASSAGE] property permanently. However, the waters can be raised or lowered to a minimum of 5 ft. when it is Manifested. The Passage may be paired with any World or target Plane in which the Lord already controls a Passage by paying its appropriate Fragment Cost. While paired, all creatures gain a +2 circumstance bonus versus Corruption-effects and on Stability Checks. The CR of Corruption events in effected Worlds is also decreased by 1.

 ⮞ RECLAIM FRAGMENT - ALL CYCLES UNENDING:  The Lord has Reclaimed a Passage removed from reality. While Ulbeph remains within the game, Afalloch gains the the Destined Fate: "Who Was All Cycles Unending". While she retains this Fate, she may allow the Lord of Passages to create and manage Passages in other Cycles at the appropriate cost. She may also restart those Cycles which have been completed and removed from the game, at great cost. This ability may be used on those Cycles ended by the Primeval Dark. Occupied Cycles which have ended and have had all player characters removed from the game may be resumed, placing player characters back into the game in locations appropriate for the current Main Quest. Cycles which are restored in this way resume the game beginning with the Prologue to the End. As long as there remains a Lord of Passages with this Soul Potential, any subsequent Cycles which end at any point after Ulbeph has entered the game may be restored. There is no time limitation on this. However, if the Lord of Passages is permanently destroyed or Ulbeph is removed from the game, all ended Cycles are lost forever.

 ⮞MANIFEST PASSAGE - ULBEPH:  After Ulbeph has been successfully paired with a target World or Plane the Lord of Passages may choose to create a physical or Oneiroclastic manifestation of the Passage, as appropriate for its paired World. Choosing to do such requires a minimum Fragment Cost of 10d10 x 10,000. The initial manifestation creates a subterranean World appearing as a series of flooded labyrinths. This maze connects to various lost realms of the City-Plane of Quarry. The Lord of Passages may choose to pay this cost again to create its deepest layers. Though difficult to find, the lowest floors of this maze appear in the likeness of the ruins of a flooded modern metropolitan city. This dangerous world is filled with a great number of terrors. The strange creatures here begin with an average CR of 20 and are hostile to most outsiders. The denizens of this World are not hostile to the Lord of Passages, but have no means of identifying the Lord and will thus attack him unless he possesses some means to make his station evident to those he comes upon. The Lord of Passages may increase the prosperity of the city by spending an appropriate Fragment Cost, creating an amount of wealth in modern items distributed across this plane worth 5.35 x the Fragment Cost paid. Denizens are aware of the Lord's charitability, but this action does not provide any indication which identify him. This realm is Tainted Land and subject to powerful Corruption effects which cannot be suppressed by this Passage's own effects. The condition of this Manifested Passage has no impact upon the Passage of Ulbeph itself.

 ⮞MIDNIGHT-TOUCHED:  This Passage has been reclaimed from the Midnight Between, but it remains corrupted by it. The Lord of Passages may choose to banish individual targets from his Passage, but he cannot restrict new denizens from the Betwixt entering this Passage or any Worlds to which it has been paired. The Lord of Passages gains favorability with the Midnight Between and allies to the Black for each Passage paired to Ulbeph. However, he looses favorability with the Wheel &amp; Council, in addition to certain factions of the Second World and Third World. While the Lord of Passages is within a World or Plane paired to Ulbeph, he suffers no ill effects for being lowered into any Existential Phase before the fourth (Phases 1 to 3 are made safe). 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮟  Spite : 2  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⮯ Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:  The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.  
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (72,740xp)     [⮯ Abstract -10,667]   ¦   (⮸ +300xp), (⮸ +900xp) Ulbeph   
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
 ⬖  Greater World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)
⬖  Lesser World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)  
 ⭍ (Suspended)   Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight   
  ⭍   "Mysterious Blade of Ashurbanipal"   - The sword has been lost. The difficulty of all events and quests outside of Ashurbanipal have significantly increased. 
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▰▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 30% (30/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※ SECRETS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※ CAUTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (-5) 
※ DEATH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ DESTINY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ FATE  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※ REALITY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ BLACK  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※ VOID  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DESTRUCTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※COURAGE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※BRAVERY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▰▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 32% (32/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ RECLAIMER  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※SALVATION ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)
※ ANNIHILATION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※PENANCE ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)
※ ASTRAY   ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※SEALS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ WORLDS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ CORRUPTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SLAIN  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ RETURNED  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※DIVERGED ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)
※WONDER ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)
※ MOTIVES  ▰▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 31% (31/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KEY-BEARER  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※ CURIOUS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※ KNOWLEDGE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※ DIVINE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※ GODS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)  (+5) 
 

     
Mornings
      
Reincarnation was not a new concept to him. In Golarion the concept of utilizing magic to bring a soul back from Pharasma's Boneyard into a new body was not an impossible task. But it was a magic greater than any single wizard he knew could create. Rituals with multiple powerful magicians were used for such spellcasting. Though, as far as he knew, the soul was either placed into a corpse or the magic created a new body with random physical features and race from nothing. In those cases, the mind of the soul's previous lifetime remained intact - memories included. This was a magic more powerful then that, but seemingly also related in how many participants were involved. There was no magic from his world which could replicate anything even remotely similar to those things which he had discovered in these far-flung universes. So a power which could breech that threshold, casting him upon the rungs of some greater cosmic ladder of a tier in might he'd yet to understand... Well, that was something completely new.  [Miryks: Knowledge (Arcana) - Partial] 

The Kindler clapped her hands together mutely. Het spectral display fell silent without a physical form moving behind it.     "Wonderful. It is settled then. We shall move on."     Lifting her hand, she gestured with a waving motion. No one else was present to see it, but after a moment the deep timber of a bell's ringing bellowed out far in the distance. At first all was still. Then the sound of hurried scuttling and movement could be heard all about. The scrape of iron and the groan of heavy locks being lifted droned out from all around. The metal shutters of windows opened, the heavy covers of steel ventilation shafts were pulled away and a stir of motion washed through the various buildings which surrounded the courtyard. A handful of drowsy catmen holding brooms hastily begun to sweep out clouds of soot and ash. Feline workmen begun to scale the sides of the work-houses holding long wire brooms, like short chimney sweeps. Carefully, they cleaned out the exhaust ports of towering smoke stacks.  [Miryks: Diplomacy - Success] 

The Kindler produced a ledger from her sleeve. Evidently a tablet magical in nature. It softly glowed in her hand as she peeled off an inkpen from its side.     "We will need to begin with your entitlements now. There is quite a few to go through. Unfortunately, there is a specific order in which this must be worked... No do-overs, unfortunately. So we will need to make sure you are certain before proceeding to each subsequent entitlement. These will also include any blessings to which you may have earned. We will start with these, as they will not impact the choices which follow."     A figure in red slinked behind the Teller. Her footsteps were dead soft, nearly absent of sound save for the soft  clink  of her paws nails. The figure was similar to the feline workmen who now scrambled to raise the workshops to working order, but distinctly different. Rather than a cat, she was notably of some vulpine order of creature. Her face was a thin long snout covered with a spotless shock of fur. More like a desert fox, she was bipedal and tall...  very tall.  Easily breaking seven feet in height, but lithe and slender like a ballet dancer, she towered over the Keeper despite the ghost not contacting the ground at all.   "Well then, what missette has thine flame settled?"   The Kindler's head snapped sharply to the speaker, brow furrowed and visibly irritated at whomever had dared question her work.

Slowly, her eyes scanned the fox from ear to paw, visibly confused until some revelation seemed to dawn in her mind,     "Who- ....My Lady? What are you dong here?"     The fox crossed her arms, tucking the black cane she carried beneath her armpit,   "To preview thine flame, girl. So, What fore?"   A creeping skeptical look crawled up her face, ending with a raised brow and tilted head. Though she was hesitant the answer rolled off her tongue densely, and not in such a respectful manner.     "...Sunjatha'la."     The fox rolled her eyes and an exasperated huff,   "Bah.  Boring . Tame. Forethought and bethought in peradventure..... But safe wager, just the same."   If Miryks still had a brain, he was sure it would be throbbing in pain while trying to wrestle with the fox's words. She was not speaking Taldane, though his mind translated it as such. It was  Yu'ta-Zara, the Poetic Verse , the forgotten bygone precursor-tongue of the Dreamworlds. It had only been spoken prior to the Three Worlds, when every Imaginary World had belonged to a single universe known as  Che'el Talthelra . It was an arcane speech, charged with volatile energy, but he could understand it.... to some degree, as a nightmare beast. Her mouth did not move with the syllables of the lisping long vowels and dramatic sharp snaps of the words.   "Mine hand will recorde this. Such trie shall be fulsome if it shall burden mine own benison."  

The Kindler ran a hand down her face, evidently perturbed by the kit's declaration,     "...My Lady... This is the domain of the Lady of Passages. Not your own."     Her voice was patient, but strained. The fox snapped her fingers in the Kindler's face like the crack of a whip.   "Thee wille mine blessing in this kindling, yes? Then mine hand shulen the task."   The Kindler slowly slammed her palm on her own forehead a few times as if trying to think of a solution until it came to mind.     "Fine. But only for your own blessing. You may not interfere with the ritual."     The Kindler pointed to her face, wriggling a finger as if it were a wand, trying to make her position known.   "A chaffare settled then."  

With a sigh the Kindler turned back to the flame of Miryks,     "Forgive the interruption. A minor change then, one of your blessings will be given directly by-"       "The Stranger."   The fox sharply interjected. The Kindler turned an irritated look towards the Stranger.     "Really? You will share your blessing, but not your name?"     The vulpine host scoffed,   "-And thine name? What of thee? Hast thou enterparten such?  Kindler? "       "I did not come cloak-and-dagger. Disguised  as-"     The fox violently interrupted bearing her fangs,   "-As what, perchance? Elil?  Such is thee! "       "You have created them, but you are not the same! -Enough of this."     The Kindler looked back at Miryks, as the two looked away from each other in heated disagreement.     "The Stranger, then. Will provide you your first blessing. Unlike those things which might follow, it bares no impact on what choices you will have shortly. As she has come to give it herself, I recommend you negotiate for the most favorable conditions. Once this is settled, I will work with you to identify the features and abilities of your new body. After we can discuss more about your new life, your family, the lifestyle you wish to inherit. You will possess some limited degree of choice regarding this."      [Miryks: Sense Motive - Partial] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (9,620xp)     (⮸ +400xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ TRUTH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DREAMS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BLACK  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  
 "It is not a small thing to allow others to bestow your blessing, and no mean feat to be here to present it yourself. While I cannot rise and welcome you as I am, Lady Stranger, my fire still burns hot and the morning is still cool yet. I would not be opposed if you wished to warm your hands at my flame. As things are my name is Miryks, though I will not lay claim to it for much longer."  The Stranger was very brusque compared to the Kindler, and likely had been listening or watching them for a while (if not the entire time). Miryks wondered idly how she had become aware that the First-Flame was here, especially considering how the Kindler had told him how early he was to arrive.   I know precious little about this  Stranger , but simply from her words she is quite different than the Kindler. Higher ranking almost certainly, for the Kindler to allow the Stranger's influence here against her own initial wishes, yet not quite on the level of the Lady of Passages. Still, commanding a Domain likely places this Stranger quite high. Only question is, the Domain of what?  
 
"Though this new beginning may be a safer wager, as you say, I can assure you that my spark is neither boring nor tame. It is not in me to accept the life of a sheep. I don't believe you make a habit of wasting your own efforts with a soul who is content to remain head down in a flock. But I will not casually throw my life, and by extension your gifts, onto the swords and spells of my enemies."
"I could continue to sate your curiosity about my past, should you wish to hear more. Indeed, though I am but a little thing compared to you, my story will fade with my name. No one else can lay claim to this knowledge, not even largely myself after my forging.

Though something tells me you're more interested in my future." 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Sense Doom  - (1d20+36)[ 56 ]  The Stranger coming to do the blessing herself
  Diplomacy  - (1d20+20)[ 29 ]  Getting to know the Stranger
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 37 ]  Why The Stranger came
  Linguistics  - (1d20+7)[ 22 ]  Yu'ta-Zara
   Perception  - (1d20+19)[ 39 ]  The Stranger's garments, including her cane
 
Mornings
      
  "Thus..."   The Stranger hip-checked the Kindler, pushing the ghost aside and swatting her away like a pest with her heavy tail.   "...'Ere scole-matere is mine."   The large fox-woman eyed the flame curiously. She waited, letting him flicker and bob quietly rambling as only fire could. When he finished she proceeded to ignore his questions.   "Hm. Curiousite be thine approach. Nay, mettle mayhap, or fragment thy weld still."   Her expression looked unimpressed, or mildly annoyed, he couldn't tell which.   "Miryks, was it? A name witen-welcome, benison or no..."   There was a pause, her attention drawn away for a moment,   "Done. Thy name is written scrite. Now to that which be foryelden. Thine offer is mine own glorie to wet thy page. Title and Destined Fate."    [Miryks: Diplomacy - Failure] 

Casually, she waved her staff in the air, catching a white-silvered thread like a spider's silk, casting it into the chalice. His flame flared to life. The Kindler seemed to look on suspiciously, keeping a close eye on the exchange.     "You, actually doing your duty,  properly?  The Lady would scarcely believe it."      Tssk.  The Stranger clicked her tongue at her in an annoyed gesture. The Kindler approached again,     "As part of the Rite, your former self will become immortalized as a Page within the Black Book. Your Page is an important part of your existence which will continue to exist forever as a memory of the Three Worlds. It us your Legacy. Blessings, when given in such a way are Destined Fates. A title recognized by the laws of creation. As a dream, you may only choose one Fate to add to your Page. It would become your true name. Think it over carefully, but we will speak more of this later."     Miryks tried to get a closer look at the Stranger, but a strange cloud of red seemed to flicker in and out of reality, distorting his sense of space. Whatever it was, it limited his ability to perceive her figure beyond what she intended to reveal.  [Miryks: Sense Motive - Failure] [Miryks: Perception - Failure] 

The Stranger shoved her aside again,   "Remuen, and silence thine nicete. Mine chaffare remains witen-pleine! Now, comes our game and pleie."   Miryks could feel the blessing, that had been real, but he had an unsettling feeling. Whatever the reason for the visit, the Stranger had her own reasons for coming, and it was not born of any selfless desire.   "Do seien flame, speak true. What any-wish dost thou desire?"   Her words were painful to navigate. Despite his ability to understand her speech, the words were archaic and strange. He'd never heard Yu'ta-Zara actually spoken til now, though he'd heard remarkably few foreign tongues. Still, he doubted there were many in all creation which had heard this tongue.  [Miryks: Sense Doom - Partial]   [Miryks: Linguistics - Partial] 
   [BLESSING OPTION] MIRYKS, WHO DECIEVED THE BLESSED MAW    
Blessing of the Trickster.
 ⬔ LEGACY:  The Blessed receives a +4 circumstance bonus to dexterity and charisma for all characters and Aspects associated with this Destined Fate. Nightmare Beasts suffer a -20 penalty to sense motive checks against you. Lies to Nightmare Creatures cannot be detected via magical means unless the caster succeeds an opposed caster level check.
 ⬔ FATE:  Once per game, per Cycle, you may grant this Fate to any creature, character or player currently in the campaign whose name you've learned. The target must willingly accept this Fate, this choice cannot be coerced. Once this Fate is granted, this choice cannot be changed. The Fated gains a +10 circumstance bonus to charisma, if this bonus would result in an ability score less than 24, the Fated's charisma becomes 24. The Fated adds 1d12 to all bluff checks she makes and cannot speak the truth. Her words must at least be misleading, factually incorrect or a half-truth. Violating this Fate incurs spite. Having her lies revealed to others incurs spite. The first attack the Fated makes against a creature who intends to expose her lies catches the target flat-footed and inflicts 1d3 points of Ur-damage per HD she possesses. The Fated is an enemy of Nightmare Beasts.   
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (9,770xp)     (⮸ +150xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ TRUTH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DREAMS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BLACK  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

Even with her curt way of speaking with the Kindler, Miryks had assumed she would still expect some level of politeness and deference from someone such as himself. It was stunning for her to basically ignore every word out of his mouth. Well.. in truth, she hadn't. If she ignored him, she would not have caught his name. She just didn't consider any of it worth acknowledging, let alone replying to.   The fewer words, the better I suppose.  

As the Stranger's blessing washed over him, Miryks began to understand a little more about her, whether she intended it or not he could only guess at. She was a Trickster, or at least her blessing painted her as one. That would go a ways towards explaining her back and forth with the Kindler, as well as the Kinder's surprise at the duty being carried out without overt impropriety. With this new perspective, Miryks took a hard look at the vulpine figure, trying to piece together anything from what he had seen. Red mist clouded his vision and brought his thoughts to a screeching halt. His flame flickering, Miryks realized the cloud had manifested in his mind, flashing in and out with dizzying celerity. It seemed as though she  really  didn't want him peeking behind her veil. Whatever the cause of the distortion, there was nothing he could do to circumvent it.   -at least for now.  

The Stranger, or The Trickster as Miryks was starting to see her as, didn't seem to bear him any ill will. Truthfully, she didn't seem to care about him at all beyond what strictly concerned her. Even her blessings seemed to be handed out regularly by his Kindler at least, if not other Kindlers as well. The absence of her motive to bless his flame herself evaded him and the gap in his understanding itched at the back of his mind. Even this, what seemed to be an extremely open ended question,    "What any-wish dost thou desire?"    was rife with danger. He had no doubt that anything he said could be twisted against him, or to her sole benefit. Miryks's mind shot past the old clichés from the storybooks, weighing each against possible alternate interpretations. The Trickster was no mere Djinn, forced to grant whatever wish was uttered by its master. She would likely weigh his intended wish against if it benefited her, or even if she wanted to grant it at all. In truth, all she did was tell him to shut up and speak what wish he wanted. Then again...

The wish offer could be more or less genuine, and Miryks's increased strength or ability would serve her purposes in some way. Or perhaps this was all random and just meant to sew seeds of chaos into the world.   Or any of a million other things this could be.   The flame's sigh came out as a hiss of evaporated moisture. No matter how much thought he put into his response, all roads led to to her whim.   Time to gamble on the capricious fox lady.  
 "I wish for the wisdom and ability to fully realize the potential of my arcane reincarnation." 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Arcana  - (1d20+8)[ 11 ]  The Black Book
  Sense Doom  - (1d20+36)[ 37 ]  My wish
  Linguistics  - (1d20+7)[ 17 ]  Speaking with The Stranger
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 22 ]  The Kindler's reaction to the Stranger
 
Mornings
      
The fox-woman leaned forward, looming over the flame. The brim of her hat cast a long shadow over here face, but the glint of white teeth still shown clearly in contrast, as a large toothy grin spread, from ear-to-ear. A distantly familiar terror.   "Oh... Truly?"   Her words were no longer spoken in the Poetic Verse of Ancients, but something else. A language, similar or derivative of his own.  Bistala.    "Your curiosity, was my wonder. First to deceive all Constellation to errant folly. I thought it perhaps a mindless gesture. To which was true... There are no thoughts in that empty head. Yet, will enough to burden the white of my teeth. Vision enough perhaps to seize a moment. Yes...  My interest is piqued. "   The Stranger snapped away from him, backing up with a sharp gesture. A hand covering her eyes in a dramatic and feigned fashion,   "...Oh, woe. But what is one so divine to do? Magic? No! The musings of dry old men, and youth worn by hags tis' not mine forte. The shame! Oh, such shame. But..."   She peaked out from between her fingers.   "Perhaps, not a wish unfulfilled."  

The Stranger placed her hands on her waist and shook her hips from side to side, threatening to break into dance as her large tail swept the stone floor   "Wisdom. Ability? Bah! No dear flame. What you require, is the  pause.  The means to stop this cold arm of time. What is held abreast by race, is stolen by the frigid hand of death! Wisdom? Ability? Preserve your breath and you have both thusly!"   The Stranger pulled up the skirt of her frock suggestively and waved her tail about in a bawdy gesture. The Kindler's face was melting into the sleeve of her robes, dying a second time from embarrassment at the unexpected rubenesque display.     "W-What are you doing!? Cease this indecent display! This is a Holy Rite, you lecherous fox!"     The Kindler turned around completely as the Stranger waved her bare bottom at her in mischievous protest. Deftly, and just as quickly as the Kindler turned away,  the Stranger pulled a silver hair of light from her tail and deposited it into the burning chalice.    "Holy my arse!"  
    "Cease! Cease this, or I shall remove you from the temple!"     The Stranger burst into mocking laughter.   "Look flame, how easily the faithful are shaken astray."   She scooted close to the cup, placing both hands on the dais and leaning over him, whispering down to the fire.   "Look how absent are my Sister's vested servants.  Worship me instead.  I will halt death's cold touch.  I will grant your wish.  Oh, what fun tricks we might play..."   The Kindler snapped back, her pale face twisted in fury,     "You ungrateful minx! How dare you attempt to poach the Lady's flame!"     The Stranger winked at Miryks,   "...Just the same, I will speak with my dear friend. One of magic. She will see to it you will find the wisdom you seek."       "BEGONE!"     The Kindler grasped the twisted candelabra which had carried him, shaking it to ring a series of magically suspended silver bells.  [Miryks: Linguistics - Partial] 
 She was gone.  The Stranger was nowhere to be seen. A soft dust settled where she had once stood. It was as if she had been blinked out of reality and not even the air had yet settled where she once stood. Miryks could feel a new gift circling within his crackling form. A power unlike the previous. The words of his wish resonated within his mind.  It was something She could fulfill.  Perhaps not alone, but with those with the means. Somehow he'd won the interest of some foreign god. Though, he could only question his own understanding of just what a 'god' was to him fundamentally.  [Miryks: Sense Doom - Partial] 

Miryks was not exceptionally familiar with the Black Book. Only that it was some manner of divine record which the names of Saints and the blessed whom had succeeded in the Rite of Transfiguration had the names of their past-lives penned. What importance this served, or what function this held he had no idea. The Kindler strained a smile as she bobbed in the air in her approach,     "I deeply apologize for this uncouth display. It had been a long time since...  The Stranger,  has directly meddled in this Rite. Were she not kin to the Lady, this absurdity would never be tolerated. Please ignore any of her ramblings. She is a liar. A trickster. A meddler in all things she can toy with. I assure you, she has no good intentions, whereas My Lady is just and has brought you this blessed opportunity."     She cleared her throat, evidently perturbed by the encounter. Fights between sibling gods was nothing new to Miryks. Though, more often than not it was much less civil. Many sibling-gods tended to come into representing completely opposite forces. With their worshipers coming into bloody conflicts, but this particular conflict seemed less volatile. In either case, the Kindler had been evidently shocked and upset by the encounter. The Stranger's attempt to recruit him as a worshiper had also left her deeply disturbed.  [Miryks: Sense Motive - Success]   [Miryks: Knowledge (Arcana) - Failure] 
   [UNIQUE DEIFIC OPTION] [SOUL]
LANE, WHO WAS THE CHAOS OF EVERY FATE &amp; PASSAGE    
 Lane is the Goddess of Mischief, Trickery, Deceit, Lies and Meddling. Her influence in matters is often irrelevant, but serves to regularly frustrate men and gods alike. Those who worship her are often thieves, merchants, magicians, politicians and those which value guile. However, she is most popular with orphans and children, where she is worshipped in secret. Her shrines are raised in sewers, caves and secret dark places. Misleading, lies and tricks are all her domain. Most of which are harmless pranks, but any mischief for enjoyment or selfish reasons is encouraged. Devotees do not directly seek to harm others, but their plots may cause widespread suffering and death. Lane remains neutral regarding any ill harm brought about by such tricks, neither welcoming or giving much care to any horrors unleashed from such pursuits. Merit is only found in the cleverness of a ploy, the amount stolen, the greed, the guile, the drama and story if entertainment can be found in it. Lane's machinations are wide and universe-spanning, looking to play the ultimate joke or seek out the greatest riddles and plots. In her great ventures she has befriended all manner of beings and gods, both goodly and evil, entertained by her hijinks until they themselves are the butt of a joke. Her worshipers do not know her face, but she is said to be capable of mimicking the likeness of all beings throughout reality. As the creator of the Elil, her countless avatars are most often seen in the form of a fox. An endless rivalry between herself and her sister, the Lady of Passages, raged on as her faithful sought to undo the chaos sown by her plots.  
 BENEFIT : Souls directly welcomed by the divine to offer libation and worship become one of the Chosen. The Chosen may choose any of the benefits below by choosing to worship this deity. This may be done at any time for any characters and Aspects associated with the soul which has gained this feature. This choice may be made per character or Aspect, but once this choice is made it cannot reversed.

 ⬔ DIVINE DISCRETION:  The Chosen gains bluff as a class skill with a number of ranks equal to their HD. The Chosen may choose to deceive others as to which deity they worship, or intend to worship. The Chosen may also feign to be a worshiper or priest of another faith. Bluff checks made to deceive others as to what their true god is, or when pretending to be a follower of another god, roll 2d20 instead of 1d20. This check otherwise functions as normal.

 ⬔ CORRUPTED NAME:  The Chosen may choose to secretly corrupt their Destined Fate, allowing them to benefit from an additional Title and/or Fate.

 ⬔ THE STRANGER'S PROMISE:  The Chosen gains a rate of regeneration is equal to its Constitution Score (or Charisma Score if the Chosen does not have a Constitution Score). No form of attack can suppress this regeneration, however the Chosen can still be utterly destroyed, such as via disintegration or a death effect. If the Chosen would fail a save against an effect which would kill or destroy it utterly, it revives 3 rounds later at a location of Lane's choosing. Forms of death such as drowning, burial, stasis and existential collapse may be subject to divine intervention and may revive the Chosen 3 rounds later. The Chosen can still be banished or otherwise transported, but the method for mortals to truly kill the Chosen remains unknown. In exchange for this power the Chosen must accept Divine Quests from Lane. The Chosen must offer a prayer once per day and the Chosen is forbidden from killing another creature. Only direct murder and death inflicted by the Chosen violate this law, such as attacking with a sword or casting a harmful spell. However, setting a deadly trap, having an ally kill a restrained enemy, or using some other indirect means to kill others is allowed. However, actions such as kicking someone off of a cliff count as direct murder despite the fall being the cause of death. Lane is the final arbitrator of all such violations. Breaking these tenants immediately ends all benefits from worshipping Lane, including this ability. It may be possible to earn penance depending on the severity of the violation. 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (9,970xp)     (⮸ +200xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ TRUTH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DREAMS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BLACK  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

Whatever Miryks could have reasonably believed to be Lane's response, the truth was nowhere near it. The Goddess exposing herself to him was as surprising as her words. He had agonized over the wording of the wish to her, and was more than a little pleased with the result. It seemed like he had Lane's attention, for better or worse. Choosing to worship her would very likely open as many doors as it would slam in his face. Another hiss of flame, but this time as a sigh of relief.  The memory of Lane's smile and the gluttonous teeth sent a shiver down his length.

 "That.. was certainly an experience. But please, do not feel like you have to apologize for her. I doubt there was anything you or I could have done differently. I don't know how far she would be willing to go in her sister's temple, but it's good you were able to banish her. That was you, right?"  Miryks indicated the bells.  "At first I thought you were summoning someone, perhaps even your Lady. The bell's chime and The Stranger's disappearance was so closely timed either she chose to finally leave or you forced her to. You showed remarkable restraint for the sake of me receiving her blessing, and for that I thank you. In fact-"  Miryks hesitated a moment before continuing on.  "-you should also not feel guilty for not providing your name. As you permitted the Stranger's request to stay nameless, so too do you have that right."  Not that he wouldn't appreciate having it, but it was but a small thing in the scope of his reincarnation. Truth be told, he had just assumed Kindler was a given title. If she had earned the right to act as Kindler, she clearly had good cause to be referred to by it. Not to mention the apparent power of knowing someone's name. Miryks focused a moment on the first blessing that Lane had given him.   There are definitely abilities at play that require naming someone, and it's almost a certainty not all of them require compliance.  
 ""We can take a moment to let her shadow pass if you'd like. Just her smile nearly brought me back to the terror of the teeth that devoured my form before coming here. I believe you when you say her actions are designed to serve only herself, regardless of how they may appear on the surface. It would be foolish to think otherwise. If you will forgive a parallel, I have been witness to the disputes between sisters as well as those between rival Gods. Such matters are difficult enough to navigate on their own, let alone together; family is complicated."  Miryks released a wistful sigh. Many were the nights he spent as a child wishing for a family to grow up with.
 
"Though if it has been so long since her last direct blessing to a flame, I am curious. What happened to the flame from before?" 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  History  - (1d20+7)[ 19 ]  The previous flame Lane meddled with
  Local  - (1d20+11)[ 18 ]  Lane's dear magical friend
  Diplomacy  - (1d20+20)[ 34 ]  Hoping to help calm the Kindler
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 20 ]  The Kindler's reaction to the previous flame
  Nobility  - (1d20+7)[ 26 ]  The rivalry between Lane and the Lady as sisters
  Religion  - (1d20+8)[ 22 ]  The rivalry between Lane and the Lady as Goddesses
 
forg99rules
 
 Stella takes a moment to reflect as she hovers in the void. She contemplates the various instances when she either acquired a teacher or actively sought one. It wasn't so much a doubt about her abilities now that she thought about it, although, of course, there was some doubt, primarily centered around her ability to actually reach her intended destination. With a sigh, she redirects her attention to the current situation, stating to herself,   "My lack of faith isn't in my abilities but rather in my ability to reach a teacher's location... If only I could stop being constantly redirected and manage to arrive at my intended destination, then there would be no doubt that I could convince someone to teach me. I've survived this far without being able to reach my destination, and I think I'm just growing frustrated with this aspect of my life."   Her thoughts return to the various teachers she had encountered or the times when she was being taught,   "However, some of the methods people have used to teach me involved merely thrusting me into another realm with a goal, without instructing me on how to achieve that goal... It's very frustrating when I don't have my memories from my past life. Even more vexing is that I had to come here to realize the importance of choosing a Tradition to follow."   Stella allows herself to drift for a few more moments, then muses,   "I suppose there's only one way to find out if I can reach Sircé, and that's to try... Can I leave yet, or is there still something preventing me from going?"   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 18 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 13 ]  - wondering if the training methods of most teachers is to just toss their pupils at something without actually teaching...
Know History:  (1d20+8)[ 15 ]  - same question as the one above
 
Mornings
     
Stella recalled what few moments of 'training' came to mind under the tutelage of Veil Witches. Reflecting back on the words of the Ancients, B'Belka and even Ulbeelta himself. The Vet'Cnros were a crass and vile lot, constantly at odds with one another over their differences and practices. Each had their own way of teaching their young, and each was more horrible than the last. As a race of evil magical creatures, they often did not naturally understand feelings of empathy, pity or kindness, and those that did usually did not place much importance in such useless gestures. Children were a means to be end, a resource to be exploited, least they possess some measure of innate talent. There was no coddling in their lessons, just as their was no humanity in their magics. Talent did not reveal itself with a calm and measured approach, and so nearly every Tradition found a means of vising great harm and violence upon the unworthy, that the wheat might be separated from the chaff. In this regard,  Stella was truly Vet'Cnros.  There were things she wanted, and great chaos and damages left in her wake as she gambled upon each new scheme.  It didn't mean anything to her.  It wasn't just that she didn't understand what harm she left. It didn't matter. Only the growing inconvenience of feeling lost, left further away from her goals, or being tormented by abstract beings and Justices weighed upon her conscious mind. This was the sinister self-serving greed of Veil Witches. A curse upon Vet'Cnros sensibilities. There was no merit other than that of oneself and the furtherance of ones own desires. A driving consuming need to serve oneself amid the gibbering chatter of bodiless voices rattling inside her skull. What wretchedness they inflicted upon others was only surpassed by the savagery they visited upon each other. This was the true lesson of all Vet'Cnros. A curse they were compelled to carve into one another like soulless dolls. There was a strange sense of distant revelry. An awareness of self. Looking out from herself, down upon herself with eyes unclouded by the madness of these compulsions.  Then it was gone.  The whispers returning. [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Partial]  
    "Such is the nature of your kind. Now, you lament drifting throughout the Three Worlds? Stella Astral, you have slipped and slithered through every crack and crevasse of these Worlds for centuries,  like a pestilent fog . Travel between realities has remained limited, if not outright forbidden. Yet still you hedged your way through the most perilous paths to invade those spaces you are most unwelcome, then weep your lack of efficacy and accuracy. I will not humor a Veil Witch's fetid bleating.  You will wait and obey the Law of Passages , or remain lost forever."     Stella was able to grasp the displeasure in the sharp coil of the galaxy-spanning wolf's demeanor. Evidently she could  not  leave yet, due to this annoying and meddlesome 'law'.

 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 3/6 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮟  Spite : 1 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
 ⮯  Corrupted Fate  (Ra'Dolfaal)  
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (218,050xp)   (⮸ +30),   
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※SOVEREIGNTY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※NOBILITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ DISCOVERY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※VEIL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ EVIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURSE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MEMORY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)
※ WORLDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FAITH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ ANCESTORS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ORIGIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DIVINITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※LEGENDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※PAST-LIFE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※REINCARNATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
Mornings
      
The flame wavered in contemplation. Miryks had no idea regarding what previous meddling Lane may have committed in past Rites, nor of what 'friends' she might have possessed. The Goddess of Mischief was not a principle deity of the Dream Worlds, nor did her actions have anything in particular to do with much of the Imaginary Worlds. The Rite of Transfiguration itself was not understood in a meaningful way by the denizens of the Nightmare Worlds. It was a mysterious and toilsome trial of faith as the flames of Dread-Dreams were carried to sacred shrines, that they might be blessed and thus live forever in a cycle of endless rebirth. Yet, when that veneer was pulled back, it revealed something far more strange, far more grand. A temple-forge capable of working the burning souls of strange and calamitous dead beings fished up from the folds of reality. This was far outside the understanding of those things which he had once been, and so he could not understand it.  [Miryks: Knowledge (History) - Failure]   [Miryks: Knowledge (Local) - Failure] 

To him, the relationship between rival sibling gods and goddesses was represented by the iconography of 'the eternal struggle', the endless battle between the goddess Shelyn and her brother, Zon-Kuthon. Or perhaps, more correctly.  Half-brother.  He had no means to compare the nature of gods from his own universe and this one, but it was what he thought of when considering similar instances. Though, unlike that particular example which came to mind, this was not a contest of good and evil. The Lady of Passages was seemingly a force of order, perhaps even of a goodly nature and held some domain over fire and rebirth. Yet, Lane was not a goddess of evil, but unpredictable chaos and trickery. Be that the petty trickery of freezing someone's socks and sitting on a nail, or more dastardly plots which might threaten many. Lane took some particular form of enjoyment from hijinks, deceit and the stories of clever guile. If sibling gods were supposed to represent complete odds, perhaps that also meant that the Lady of Passages was not entirely good, just as Lane was not entirely bad, but that they instead represented a different axis.  Law and Chaos.  Despite this, it did not appear that the two factions necessarily held hostile positions with one another, but did work to actively undermine each of their positions. Miryks did not have much to work with beyond this insight, but perhaps he would glean more with time and careful observation.  [Miryks: Knowledge (Religion) - Partial]   [Miryks: Knowledge (Nobility) - Partial] 

The Kindler still appeared unsettled, but seemed to lessen her irritated shaking at the flame's silent words.     "Yes, quite terrifying. Though, it best to know it was not truly her maw by which you met your end. That was merely a representation.  An idol,  if you will. Much like the priest mirrors the bishop, so too does the Reverend mirror God. Do not be fooled by her tricks and feigned folly. The Stranger is one of the most terrifying beings which still haunt the Garden..."     The ghost paused to consider her words as she listened to the crackle of his fire,     "Do not misunderstand...  The Stranger,  and Our Lady of Passages, are not rivals. They are not at odds. Despite...  Her  meddling, the Stranger does not actively seek out opportunities to harass her sister's faithful. While she is degenerate and chaos-incarnate, it might be more fair to think of it as... fair-chance for all. Friends or enemies, everyone has a chance to end up as the butt of a joke. We, the faithful, make great efforts to contain whatever might be left in her wake, but the sister's themselves do not have poor relations... Family,  is complicated. "    

Slowly the ghast's lifeless eyes narrowed down upon him,     "The last flame she  stole  became a great scourge for us. It remains so... Promise me you shall never accept Lane as your goddess. Her words are lies and poison. She offers gold but delivers only ash. I will not ask you to accept the Lady of Passages instead, but to allow her to seduce another fire is an embarrassment I cannot allow."     The ghost-woman seethed at the thought, evidently still distraught by the intervention.  [Miryks: Sense Motive - Success]   [Miryks: Diplomacy - Success] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (10,070xp)     (⮸ +100xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ TRUTH ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DREAMS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BLACK  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

The flame sat still, slowly smoldering for several long moments. This was a familiar feeling, though the scale was exponential compared to his past. When Miryks finally did speak, his voice was deep and soft.  "You allowed  Lane ,"  he stressed the name slightly, now that the Kindler had said it.  "-to offer her blessings of her own accord. You counseled me to     "negotiate for the most favorable conditions"    . You did both things knowing full well what had happened in the past, and knowing that  I  was completely ignorant of it. You could have stopped this at any time, or at least given me a warning, however brief or abridged."    I wonder how much of this the Lady of Passages accepts as the price of doing business with her sister. Quite the delicate balance must be struck, and no wonder its so problematic to right Lane's influence.  
 "From what you told me of the Sunjatha'la, there are false smiles and hidden plots coming my way. A myriad of social and political pitfalls as others seek to take advantage of the skill and status that my power demands. People whose silver tongues turn promises to ash the moment they leave their mouths. People who would seek to force me to adopt their beliefs or abandon my own."  Another subtle hitch in his speech as he said those last words.  "I did not expect to get my first lesson so soon."     Is your warning more to my benefit, or your own?    Miryks thought softly.   There are likely many other Gods and Goddesses who spread evil and chaos in a much more overt and bloody fashion.  
 "Knowing what you've told me about my Arcane Reincarnation, how can I in good faith make this promise? There is no guarantee which memories will return to me, from what you've said. And even if this moment did return to me, how can I hold this new life accountable for a promise I made? I hesitate to shoulder her with such a burden, binding her choices with invisible chains. Indeed, to rebuke Lane so soon after I received her Blessing may put someone as insignificant as me on her radar. Something even the Lady of Passages would find troublesome."  It was strange, finally referring to himself in the future sense. It was easier to wrap his mind around them as two separate people, at least for now.

 " But- "  Miryks let this word  *crack*  through the still air, like a pocket of moisture bursting from a merrily burning log.  "These are all hypothetical, and I am not so easily swayed by a lifted skirt and swishing tail. The only truth I have to offer is the here and now. Despite being judged by another flame's actions. Despite being thrown to the wolf. I have seen no reason to doubt your logic or conscience as my Kindler. As I am doing this of my own free will, I only ask that you use your wisdom and power to compensate."  A rush of breath was finally released as Miryks uttered the words.  "I will not accept Lane as my goddess." 

These last words came as a whisper, an afterthought, almost as much to himself as to the Kindler.  "I have no children of my own, but it's not unreasonable if you were to consider yourself the Mother of us flames. Perhaps it isn't so strange viewing your words through that lens. The anguish over a newly forged life being stolen away would truly be a wound that never healed." 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Diplomacy  - (1d20+20)[ 27 ]  Appealing to the Kindler
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 33 ]  The Kindler's reaction
  Sense Doom  - (1d20+36)[ 41 ]  Lane's power's role in forging flames
[Local]1d20+11[/roll] The Garden
 
Mornings
      
The Kindler cupped her hands around her mouth, inhaling an audible gasp as the fire dared crackle the utterance of the Trickster Goddess's name. She had not even noticed that she herself had spoken it first, as she constantly strained in remembering to use the title of 'Stranger'. It didn't take long for Miryks to realize he'd erred in more than one of his assumptions. Her visage darkened like a featureless shadow as she hissed down at him, sharply interjecting,      "Do not speak her name!"      He doubted it would have made it okay, even if she did realize her own slip-of-tongue. The weight of open hostility was like a void drawing the air out from the world. His fires waned and wilted down into a twitching candle.  [Miryks: Sense Motive - Success] 

Then, she reeled back, withdrawing the deep wave of life-stealing cold and darkness. It was like drowning. Suffocating within a freezing cold...  Then it passed.  Departing just as quickly as it had come. The Kindler's face softened at his words.     "Yes.  A Blessing.  Such was your right to receive, just as it was hers to give. Thus, you did receive the Fate she though to provide- However..."     Her grey eyes hardened,     "Everything which came after that... That was  not  her right. Nor have  you  sinned. That fault is hers alone. My warning comes  now , precisely when it needs to. For you now stand at the crossroads, to become  complicit  in this vile act, or make it right and do well by the Lady and the faithful. Any benefactor whose Blessing may be granted through me as Kindler, has the right to issue such themselves. But  only  those issuances which I could consign myself in their absence. This is not carte blanche for any being to do whatever they'd like. Even still, what damage might be done is minimal at most. For it is  you  who are the ultimate arbiter of what harm you would do unto yourself..."    

The Kindler drew her ghastly face close to the fire,     "...And make no mistake.  There will be harm in this. "     Slowly she withdrew after dropping those ominous words. Folding her arms behind her back she turned away, beginning to circle the dais contemplatively.     "It seems you misunderstand your circumstances, fundamentally...  No one is born equal.  A child is born under the burdens and disposition of many circumstances long before they ever come to be. Wealth. Debt. Illness. Status. Even more so for a Witch. Born the wrong race? You are a slave at best. Born the wrong sex? You are a tool or corpse. Does your family honor an oath to sacrifice you to some unfathomable beasts? Is your bloodline cursed?"     She stopped her circling, slowly turning to hover over the flaming chalice coldly,     "This is the legacy you inherit. From your parents. From your ancestors. From the otherworldly things which cursed you. From the Gods who made you.  It doesn't matter what you remember.  This is your opportunity to become part of that legacy. To define the circumstances of an entire lifetime yet-lived.  A chance to do the right thing.  "    
    "You are right in that there will be many who are deceitful waiting for you. Yet, mortal-kin remain irrelevant in meaningful matters. I will not ask you to reject a specific Blessing to which you are entitled, despite my reservations. Yet, if what concerns you is the freedom of choice, I offer another solution.  Abandon memory and all she has given you.  Put such aside and exchange it for something else. If this new life still manages to come unto the Trickster's worship without any such influence and without any such merit involved from this Rite, then we will have no complaint. It is only the  corruption  of the fire which ultimately gives us pause. Not her worship itself."     Miryks then realized, the Kindler had no idea of the silver strand the fox had burned in his fire.  That very same corruption she feared.      "While that memory of such offer yet exists within you, so too does some degree of its blight... Yet, it remains your right to inherit this blessing still. I would accept your word, as the righteous chain to bind this life you would become, that this malignant blotch will not befoul you further."    

As her words tapered off, her eyes looked pained.     "Yes...  It is painful...  I will do what I can for you, but you must do what you can to  save yourself.  The last...  incident , brought great trouble for the Third World. Despite...  The Stranger,  being the ultimate cause and culprit, it was the Cloister of The Benignant Flame which was found guilty of negligence.  The Stranger,  could not be made accountable as a being unbeholden to the Laws of the Garden. Thus we were made to pay, and  swear  to the Wheel and Council to correct and ensure means, that such might never make undue harm again. This was the price to ensure the Rite might be allowed to continue. The future of all fires waiting to be reborn hang in this balance.  Please...  Do not make us your enemy..."      [Miryks: Diplomacy - Success] 

Miryks did not truly know what the Rite actually was. Let alone if Lane actually held any role or impact regarding it. In fact, he did not know what the Lady of Passages involvement was with this act either. Prior to emerging as a fire himself, he had never heard of the act of 'forging' souls at all. This was alien territory beyond the scope of the Nightmare Worlds and beyond the scope of Golarion, which so too made it beyond him. He held no knowledge or insight into matters unrelated to those two things. He couldn't even begin to guess, but he imagined if other beings could interface with this Rite as Lane had, then it was something largely spanning into many realms. Or at least had strange observers unrelated to the realities with which he was familiar. He felt a terrible sense of claustrophobia. Like being stuck in a burlap sack filled with mannequin hands. Lifeless invisible things, too many to count, yet idle but burdensome... He didn't know what that feeling might mean. Only that there was many things at work here.

On the other hand, he had become familiar with 'the Garden'. That was the term which referred to the great 'everything' that was. The Imaginary Worlds, the Three Worlds and whatever else might be out there. He had no idea how to conceptualize something which was comprised of infinite layers of the infinite, but this apparently was the case. It was the sum-total of  everything.  Yet, he'd heard that some things which slumbered beneath the imaginary waves of the unreal had come from beyond the Garden. Beyond...  everything.  Beyond the infinite. It was a little too much for his simple mortal mind to digest or make meaningful.  It simply was.    [Miryks: Knowledge (Local) - Partial]   [Miryks: Sense Doom - Failure] 
 
 Spoiler: THE RITE - OPTIONS 
   (OPTIONS) RITE OF TRANSFIGURATION    
  ⯑ [REJECT PROMISE]  - Reject the Kindler's demand to formally swear you shall not worship Lane in your next life.
 ⮞⮞ [CONSEQUENCE]  - Become an enemy of the Cloister of The Benignant Flame. Rite of Transfiguration Ends.

 ⯑ [ACCEPT PROMISE]  - Make a formal oath. You shall not worship Lane in your next life.
 ⮞⮞ [CONSEQUENCE]  - Lose all future access to any benefit related to Lane. Harassed by Lane. Breaking your oath restores all features, however you will become an enemy of the Cloister of The Benignant Flame. Upon becoming an oath-breaker, you will be hunted by the Resplendent Burial across the Three Worlds.

 ⯑ [REJECT CORRUPTION]  - Surrender all benefits provided by Lane and your memories of her.     GIFT FOR THE LADY (boon + fragments)
 ⮞⮞ [CONSEQUENCE]  - Permanently lose all Blessings and features gains from Lane. Ally of the Cloister of The Benignant Flame. Receive lesser boon and Blessing. Receive modest sum of Fragments in exchange for all lost abilities sacrificed in this way.

 ⯑ [FALSE PROMISE]  - Attempt to make a false promise, bluffing your way out of trouble.
 ⮞⮞ [CONSEQUENCE]  - Pass  'very-high'  bluff check. You may choose to worship Lane prior to this check for this ability's benefit. Success - Lane's favor. No penalty from the Cloister until exposed. If exposed, you become an enemy to the Cloister of The Benignant Flame; you will be hunted by all members of the Cloister and the Resplendent Burial will pursue you across the Three Worlds.

 ⯑ [FIND ANOTHER WAY]  - Find your own answer to this predicament.
 ⮞⮞ [CONSEQUENCE]  - Unknown. Find another way. Live with the consequences.  
 

 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (10,170xp)     (⮸ +100xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ TRUTH ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DREAMS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BLACK  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

Sputtering, desperately trying to recall life sustaining oxygen into his flame, a few puzzle pieces locked into place. Lane's influence went far deeper than he could have ever believed. For the Kindler to be so frightened of the potential for evil that even the name was poison crossing his lips. The Kindler's fury caught Miryks by surprise, as did her words. By trying to frame his response just so, her not realizing she had said  Lane  first brought her to the correct conclusion.   "You said it first!"  , came a low, ragged protest once he caught his breath. In the absence of armor, shield or even hands, it was the only defense he could muster at the moment. In truth, there was likely much to be gained from a deity such as Lane. If she was able to pull strings to the effect of disrupting the Third World, while implicating this Cloister, her reach had spread far and deep. Miryks wondered if she didn't also possess some form of prophecy, to know which dominoes to topple at which points to cause such immense chaos. He certainly didn't want her harassing him, but neither did he feel he was free to keep her influence.

For all of Lane's influence, she was powerless where it mattered: in the here and now. The Kindler was right. All of the choices surrounding his new life were being made here and he had underestimated the length and breadth of what that meant. The thought of the Rite ending by his refusal to reject the Kindler's demand caused his flame to sputter once more. It wasn't even a question. The Rite of Transfiguration and his Arcane Reincarnation far outweighed any individual blessing. Miryks could only hope that what replaced it would be equal to what The Stranger claimed to be able to provide. Regardless, affording himself allies instead of enemies could only improve his chances.   Right?  

There was nothing to be gained by further obfuscation, but there was plenty he could lose. His pretty word play had gotten him nowhere. If he was to speak now, he needed to speak plainly and concisely. The Kindler had proved that her duty to one flame, even the First Taken, paled in comparison to her dedication to the sparks yet to ignite across the cosmos. He would be a regrettable sacrifice, but the ashes of his final ember would be quickly swept away to make room for the next Rite.  "'The right thing'."  Miryks tasted the words on his tongue. There were not many times in his life where this would not have been spat acidly. But here? Now? These words came out calm and smooth without a hint of the bitterness from his previous life.  "There are many facets to that word. Armies charge into war, each claiming their cause to be right. Rivals debate fiercely, each arguing against what they consider wrong. Priests cry out to the masses of the righteousness of their chosen God. I may not always make the correct choice, but I can make the right one for me here." 
 "I do not possess the right to decide the fate of the smoldering fires who are destined to follow me. Should my fire be so corrupted, I refuse to let that corruption consume me and spread. If there does come a time where this Rite is ended,  it shall not be by my hand ."  The words came strong and true now, born of his conviction.  "I reject the Stranger's corruption. Reach into my mind and rend my memories as if her paws had not swept across this hallowed ground. Let my flame blaze bright and true." 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Miryks will select Reject Corruption.

  Diplomacy  - (1d20+20)[ 25 ]  Making his choice
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 23 ]  The Kindler's reaction to my choice
  Local  - (1d20+11)[ 28 ]  Laws of the Garden
  Local  - (1d20+11)[ 14 ]  The Wheel and Council
  Religion  - (1d20+8)[ 11 ]  Cloister of the Benignant Flame
  Religion  - (1d20+8)[ 17 ]  Resplendent Burial
 
Mornings
      

There was a cloud of uncertainty in his mind. Miryks did not know of nearly anything which the Kindler had spoken of. He understood that there existed  things,  perhaps rules or structure which defined the nature of the Worlds. Yet, all of these things were far removed from the understanding of simple beasts of the Nightmare Worlds. There was something called 'the Wheel', sometimes referred to in vile curses by those Nightmare Beasts which had lost their way, but he did not understand it. Perhaps it was a thing, maybe a person or a great many things, but it somehow maintained the state of the Worlds in some manner of consistency.  Both the good, and the bad.  Allowing the Nightmare King to continue his wretched reign of terror unchallenged, no matter what evil was done unto his kind.  [Miryks: Knowledge (Religion) - Failure]   [Miryks: Knowledge (Religion) - Failure]   [Miryks: Knowledge (Local) - Failure]   [Miryks: Knowledge (Local) - Failure] 

A mask of doubt was smeared across her face at his off-handed comment. The Kindler evidently didn't believe him. His words had somehow lessened in their worth since meeting the fox. Yet as he continued to speak a brightness seemed to spark in the Kindler's visage. The shadows of suspicion bled away and a warm smile replaced it.     "You have made the right choice. I'm proud of your courage, and thankful for your trust."     Sharply, she shook the candelabra once and the fire stirred as a flash of silver light flittered off from him like a moth taking to the ethereal sky.  He'd forgotten.  Everything.  Something.  He couldn't remember what he'd forgotten, only that he had.  [ Reject Corruption (Miryks):  All Blessings, Deific Options, Features and Memories of Lane are lost - Knowledge-based checks related to Lane cannot succeed. Other actions related to prior memories of Lane cannot resolve.] 

The flame coiled in deep crimson light. Miryks felt, whole.  Clean.  Rid of some burden he could not describe. It was as if he had forgotten a sullen grieving woe, akin perhaps to the death of his own child. Now, he felt as light as a feather.  Free.  The Kindler slowly shook the rod, each time his flame grew in size. Flickers of golden speckled embers sparked into reality from the bells and filled him like burning flakes of snow.     "All blight is purged now. You are made pure."     If this was 'purity', he didn't mind it so much.     "Though, it seems you have lost the interest of your other would-be benefactors. As unfortunate as this is, it is for the better. With this new beginning, we can continue the right. This new light may be used to fortify you further still, but first... We must decide how you would like to allocate your remaining memories for this next life."    
 [Miryks: Reject Corruption Bonus +80,000 Fragments]   [Miryks: Sense Motive - Success]   [Miryks: Diplomacy - Success] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
   ⮙ Fragments:    80,000   
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (10,500xp)     (⮸ +330xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)   (+5)  
※ TRUTH ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DREAMS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BLACK  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)   (+2)  
※ MAGIC  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
Stevesciguy
   

Erik briefly glanced down at his shattered armor before pressing his thumb and forefinger into his eyes in an attempt to dull the splitting headache. He wasn't certain that what he'd just done was strictly a  mistake  - the wealth of information in those memories he'd reclaimed was still fresh, and it seemed that on some level he'd empowered Ashurbanipal in a way he couldn't fathom - but the appearance of the Primarch sent a chill down his spine. Inscrutable as she'd been when he'd met her before, she hadn't been this time. Hadn't even been trying. He could almost hear her voice saying:

  "I can hardly believe my luck."  

He wasn't sure what he'd just done for her. Perhaps simply having a piece of the Midnight out in the Worlds increased her power or influence. Regardless of how she benefitted, it was cause for deep concern.

Muttering almost to himself, "   Pushing into those memories was intentional. I didn't expect to tear a whole damn Passage out of the Midnight.   "

How that was even possible he hadn't a clue. Erik doubted it was purely  him  that did it - some other factors well beyond his knowledge were likely at play. Erik peered at the spectre the Kindler had become, jaw tightening slightly as the death sown in her name replayed through his mind. He glanced at the web of cracks spread along her shoulder. He was certain it were no mundane injury, if it were even an injury at all. Perhaps she simply chose to appear that way.

"  How are you feeling, Kindler? Where are we? Not Zek'taur. The name... Ulbeph?  "

Though it had been happening for some time now, the way information simply  appeared  in his head was still disconcerting. Like some other being was having thoughts using his mind.

 
 Spoiler: OoC 
RIP armor
Sense Motive on Kindler 2.0:  (1d20+15)[ 25 ] 
 
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

It was gone.   But wait, what was gone?   Miryks could feel something was missing, but couldn't put his finger on it. His mind felt like an empty quiver, the arrows of his memory nowhere to be found. As the moments trickled on, even memory of the void in his thoughts faded in the face of how  good  this felt. The Kindler's bright smile shined down upon him and he felt equally buoyed by her as he did the motes of pure sun that rained down on him from the candelabra. She must have been pleased with him, but he hadn't done anything. No, not him directly. She must have been pleased that blight had left him, but- he could still feel there was something off in his mind. Thoughts spilled from his mouth, almost as quickly as he conceived them.  "The teeth took more than just my flesh, though it sounds like they left something behind. I lost understanding. It's difficult to gauge my intuition. I had not thought a disease could follow me from the Nightmare to here, so I thank you for removing it."  Miryks frowned.  "My thoughts still feel sluggish, like trying to navigate a fog while a deep quagmire restricts my legs. What attraction does this blight have to these unseen benefactors?" 

Miryks strained from the basin to peer around him. Even with his enhanced vision, he hadn't seen anyone else since he was placed upon this fuel by the Kindler.  "It seems odd that they would prize a debilitation of any sort. I agree that their loss is no great loss for me. I'd rather be pure than enfeebled strictly for their pleasure, gifts or no."  He wondered just how many hidden eyes viewed this Rite. Apparently, their interest in him could translate into further gifts for his future life. If this was the case, it behooved him to catch the  right  interest.  "Are there any benefactors who still watch us? What holds their interest?"  Whatever the gifts were, it wasn't worth the loss of what had helped sharpen his instincts in life. Especially as a witch, his (or rather her), mind would need to be razor sharp.

 "So these 'Fragments' of light can be used to bolster my future self."  With how good they made his flame feel, he was almost reluctant to part with a single one.  "But yes, I am ready to proceed. There may not be much, but I'm sure there's select memories that would continue to serve me well." 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
roll=Perception]1d20+19[/roll] Looking for these unseen benefactors
  Diplomacy  - (1d20+20)[ 33 ]  What interests possible benefactors
   Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 24 ] 
  Sense Doom  - (1d20+36)[ 37 ]  Fragments
 
forg99rules
 
 A confused expression filled Stella's face as she listened to the Wolf. His words made it seem as if a large amount of time had passed since she had returned to being a proper Veil Witch and yet in her mind it hadn't been that long at all. Then there was the mention of the Law of Passages, she was not sure what exactly the Law was.   "It isn't like I have purposefully been trying to slip through the cracks... It just sorta happens, as well I don't think its been Centuries... Heck it feel like its been less than a month since I returned proper to being a Veil Witch. I also have no idea what you mean by Law of Passages, no one has bothered to explain what a Passage is or that they have Laws that must be followed. So can you really put all of the blame on me for being annoyed at it all? If I had a proper teacher, one who would explain stuff before just tossing me at it then it might go better, though of course that is the Vet'Cnros way isn't it... Just toss people at things and the weak will cull themselves."   Stella figured that even with what she just said she was still going to leave any time soon and turned her mind towards her current predicament,   "How much would it cost me to ask about Aspects? I have been told that I am not a Prime Aspect and yet that was never really explained. I have no idea what an Aspect is or what my purpose for being one should be."   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 14 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 27 ]  - Looking for information on Passages
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 18 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 30 ]  - Looking for information on Laws of Passages
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 28 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 21 ]  - Looking for information on how long stella has been at this since coming back... not sure this is the right roll let me know if a different one would be better
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 26 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 17 ]  - Looking for information on how to bypass the laws of passages
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 17 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 28 ]  - Looking for information on Aspects and Primes
 
Mornings
      
The flame could see no sign of any 'benefactors', whatever that might mean or look like. Great clouds of ash and dust rose out from the factories as the feline-creatures set about their chores. Preparing the great furnaces to be fired with great care.     "Traditionally, Benefactors would be those who witnessed the impressive display of your turning to the fire. Or alternatively, if you were a member of a particular Tradition or denomination of worship, you might exchange oaths with such patrons. Benefactors are any such powerful being with an influence or interest in the Lesser Worlds. It is quite unusual for the First-Taken to have no suitors. Perhaps the nature of your crossing had left your witnesses skeptical, or more likely, what interest they did possess was falsely garnered by your prior corruption..."     The Kindler took a moment to consider the predicament,     "It would be a waste to have no takers choosing to sponsor you. This does limit many of your options. Traditionally a sponsor would endorse you, accepting the initial Fragment Costs which you could not pay yourself. Fortunately, you possess some now, but that could be even better utilized with such a sponsor now. Anyone is allowed to witness the Rite. They need not reveal themselves. Perhaps you should take a moment to declare yourself and your intent with this new life, or how you might further the influence of a potential patron."    

The Kindler inspected the flame closer, as if to look over a mending wound.     "Hm, well yes. The Trials of the Nightmare Worlds do tend to be more... traumatic. Your final state is what is inevitably what becomes the flame. I suppose some Benefactors might balk at 'damaged goods', but others would be more inclined to lend their aid if your prospect was high... Yet, you've garnered little interest. There is no way to know who remains watching... Perhaps we should take a moment to see if you might raise any interest."    

With a gesture of her ghostly hand, she directed his attention to the flakes of golden light dancing about him.     "Many beings possess Fragments. They are a form of 'minted' energy from Ashurbanipal, utilized to pay for crossings and travel through the Worlds. Because of its utility, it has become a form of universal currency. Most creatures of the Second World possess at least a miniscule amount, but to no significant degree. For you see... There is  another  use for Fragments, and that is offerings made to the Lady of Passages, to burn your memories and achievements of past lives upon your page of history within the Black Book. This is extremely costly, and so usually most creatures might only take with them one-or-two achievements with them. This cost must be paid prior to us proceeding with your rebirth. At that time, we distribute the memories, experiences and achievements of your life, either as offerings to patrons or as Fragments, which can then be spent to determine the possibilities of how you will be reborn. This  absolutely  must happen in this order. Which is why it is important to have a few patrons. Most flames will not have significant Fragments to preserve the hard work of their past-life prior, and by the time they gain fragments they have already dissolved that life in exchange. Thus, we must always preserve what accomplishments we can prior to proceeding forward with your rebirth. Preservation is the most important part, but at any point moving forward, be it now or after your rebirth, it is possible to create, what you might refer to as a 'Memory Echo';  Zha'linn-Sol . With this it is possible to inherit, in full, the result of all of your proficiency, training and experience in your new life, in addition to what you would have possessed with out it. This is a cumulative effect. Meaning if you possessed an Echo of your intelligence, your new life would always possess a greater intellect than your past-life. Gaining both all of their knowledge, and all of your knowledge  combined.  Obviously, this would be many orders of magnitude greater than anything which you were capable of before. This is the highest order of functionality for how your preserved life should be utilized. For a flame, this is a compounding power, which is multiplied with each Rite of Rebirth. For if your next life were to preserve the theoretical combined intelligence we mentioned, it could be passed as an Echo to your third life afterwards, in addition to the first Echo you ever created, granting you the intellect of four lifetimes.... I'm sure by now, you can begin to understand the implications."     It was a possibility beyond his wildest expectations. Theoretically, using her same example, that could mean that a man with average intelligence who preserved his knowledge and passed in as an 'Echo' to his next life would be reborn a genius even if that life would have initially been average as well. His flame quivered in anticipation.  [Miryks: Diplomacy - Success]   [Miryks: Perception - Failure]   [Miryks: Sense Doom - Failure] 
 
 Spoiler: ZHA'LINN, MEMORY ECHOES 

ZHA'LINN, MEMORY ECHOES (MEMORY SLOTS)
Memory Echoes represent the preservation of the achievements of a life-time upon a beings page of the Black Book (referred to as a 'Character Card'). A creature who is having a Character Card created may choose to spend a significant Fragment Cost to preserve a feature of their character on it in a process called 'Branding'. Such as their Strength Ability Score, or a feat, Potential, class ability, racial ability, or character feature. Preserving a feature 'Brands' it to the Character Card where it is preserved. The Fragment Cost for this will vary based on the conditions which this is done. After a feature has been preserved and the Character Card is minted, the original subject which reflects the card is removed from the game. At an additional Fragment Cost, the subject can choose to upgrade a preserved feature to a Memory Echo. A Memory Echo is a feature which allows a Memory Point to be assigned to it, if an Aspect or similar vessel associated with the original subject of the Character Card enters the game. If the new character associated with the Character Card qualifies, they gain the benefit of the respective Memory Echo when a Memory Point is assigned to it. (eg: You have a Memory Echo for the Weapon Specialization feat and assign 1 Memory Point to it. Your new character gains this feat regardless if they could meet the prerequisites or not.)

The benefits of a Memory Echo are always cumulative, thus allowing feats, abilities and ability scores to stack (eg: if you have the Weapon Specialization feat from two different Memory Echoes and invest 1 Memory Point in each, both of these features are granted and stack with one another). However, in order for these features to stack with those features not granted by a Memory Echo, the new character must pay a Fragment Cost to convert the desired feature of their current life into a Memory Slot. A Memory Echo and Memory Slot are the two features required to provide this stacking effect for features in a current lifetime (Example: You have a Memory Echo of an Intelligence Ability Score of 10 and you also possess an Intelligence Ability Score. You must pay the Fragment Cost to upgrade your current Intelligence Ability Score to a Memory Slot, then invest 1 Memory Point into your Memory Echo. If your current intelligence was 10, it would then increase by another 10, becoming 20.) Invested Memory Points are immensely difficult to reassign, making their investment semi-permanent. If a new life were to also create a new Character Card and Brand their increased Intelligence Ability Score, it would be Branded as the total Intelligence they possess (20, in this example). If the next character born from both of these Character Cards were to posses the required Memory Slot and invested a Memory Point in both Character Cards, he would gain a total of +30 (10+20) to his Intelligence Ability Score.

Memory Slots are very expensive and thus are always considered to be Branded (preserved) abilities on a Character Card if one is created for them. A creature cannot alter these features, access them outside of what is already active, or pay these Fragment Costs without the assistance of a Teller, Kindler, Keeper or similar authority. Some unique Blessings may expand an Echo or Slot's capacity, allowing more than one Memory Point to be invested for greater benefits. Branded features on a Character Card may be upgraded at any time. However, abilities which are not preserved at the time of the Character Card's creation are lost forever, to the Midnight Between.
 

 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
   ⮙ Fragments:    80,000   
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (10,600xp)     (⮸ +100xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)   (+2)  
※ TRUTH ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DREAMS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BLACK  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
Mornings
     
As a Veil Witch, Stella did not know much about these things. Most of this toilsome nonsense was the subject-matter penned in colorful ink by some bright-eyed Sunjath'la schoolgirl's enchanted quill. While she had 'technically' graduated from Duvan's academy, her time in Zhenu'Magath within this lifetime had been...  brief , to say the least. Not that it would have mattered much. Vet'Cnros were notorious for lacking in the more... conventional, scholastic ventures. The whispering voices of the ancestors quietly mumbled their secrets. 'Passages', were perhaps better phrased as 'planes'. Though unlike the more conventional ones she thought of, they included the transitory-spaces which linked the larder spaces together as well. There was some 'rules', or something-or-other about how you were actually supposed to traverse these spaces, but few Vet'Cnros actually humored such things. Supposedly, this was how other Witches were able to make their way between Worlds with a considerable degree of safety and accuracy. Vet'Cnros did not care about such things. If they could not simply use their magics to wrest themselves into another universe by will alone, then they could always make the sojourn to a Circle of Black, which penetrated the folds of reality and could allow them to travel in addition to sowing their vile Veils. If a Circle could not be found, then it was time to conspire with the wretched beings beyond the stars, such as the Ra'Dolfaal or the Scion of Dark Seasons. These beings had long been ancestral patrons to the Vet'Cnros, allowing them to move about reality, often in a violent and invasive manner. Unfortunately, a lack of experience could make trips take much longer than expected, as trial-and-error were the staple of Vet'Cnros education. This also led to a common Ros'wussrun joke about  'Vet'Cnros always being a century late' , to any appointments or anything else.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Partial]  

Stella listened to the whispers considering the implications. Thinking on it, she actually did not know how much time had passed. The joke about being a century late actually wasn't that far-fetched. The measure of time was not something which existed in parallel with every other universe, and the further one approached to the Third World the greater those differences became. In fact... Thinking on it now. She had perhaps existed outside of the Lesser Worlds for longer than she had existed within them. Jun'athel similarly, was not part of the Lesser Worlds. Most of the Worlds she had frequented were largely considered to not exist at all by Sunjath'la standards. It was a problem exasperated even further within the L'Lotha. This was one reason why mortal races could not even tread upon such spaces. They'd simply turn to dust within moments as their years rapidly bled away. Fortunately, as a Vet'Cnros, she wasn't getting any older. Some Witches could oversleep for a few eons, what was a few centuries. Of course she wouldn't have even noticed if a hundred years or so had fluttered by. All she had to do was consider how long it had been since she had left Duvan'Ku. Those moments were multiplied thousandfold in the real.  She'd never stopped and considered that.  Certainly, she must have been a bit older now.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Partial]  

Bypassing the 'laws' of the Passages was not difficult. The problem was that it was dangerous....  Wildly dangerous.  It was, quite literally, taking a blind shot in the vastness of all reality and hoping for the best. Though, she was living with that realization now. Stella had never crossed a threshold or traveled by legal means, which of course was also the reason for her previous criminal trial before the Justice of Black. It was not a good thing. Each time caused undue damages upon a World, regardless if she intended to be there or not. There was ways to narrow down the destination, like utilizing the Circles of Black, but even then, it was still a wide net. Paying the evil beings beyond reality to smuggle her across was also possible, like the Ra'Dolfaal had, but you risked their fickle nature or a curse. There was also other options, such as bribing a Teller, or a Keeper for more direct access to a Passage. Though mortals could not humor this manner of travel. Stella considered her position now. Somehow she was not crushed into dust within this existential phase, and she had not evaporated from rapid aging as well, despite her current form. Something was keeping her together, but she didn't know what. It was also uncertain if this good fortune would extend elsewhere... Perhaps being placed back into one of the Worlds she had previously visited might destroy her instantly if she were without this protection...  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Success] 

Some Aspects were Veils, but not all Veils were Aspects. Stella didn't understand the difference, she could barely remember what a Veil even was. She was never one for the finer parts of learning and books. Unlike some cloistered wizard, she'd hardly spent any time at all pondering over old tomes. If anything, she was more of a tactile learner, a spellcaster guided by visualization and instinct. Perhaps more akin to a sorcerer than a wizard. Of course, she didn't understand why a spell might succeed or fail. If she did it enough times she'd figure out the way to reach the desired effect;  trial-and-error.  The Vet'Cnros way.     "An insignificant cost, for an insignificant question."     Stella watched a a small sparkle of energy, like a handful of glitter was pulled from her chest.  [Stella: Experience Points Traded - 672exp] 
    "This might be fundamental knowledge to a Witch. Though Vet'Cnros are not often found in their studies... An Aspect is an iteration of a Soul, Origin Concept, Prime Soul, or even another Aspect within a Cycle. A 'Prime Aspect' can be the original origin of the Aspect itself, such as a Witch who sent herself to the First World while Aspecting a fox. It can also be the original Aspecting itself, such as the same Witch creating another version of herself which took her place. It can also be the first, or last Aspect created in a series of Aspects. Such as if The Witch created the fox, and the fox created another version of the Witch. The Prime Aspect always  remains  the Prime Aspect. Each subsequent Aspect replaces the previous. This rule can never be broken by the original creator of the Aspect. Meaning, the Witch herself cannot by her own hand Aspect as something that would not become her Prime Aspect. This is fundamentally governed by principles of the Garden, and enforced by the Law of Reflection &amp; Iteration. The Authority which defines a state of a thing's existence within Reality and the Imaginary Worlds. This is now beyond the level of education a simple Witch might receive."      The whispers had stopped. They were just as lost as she was.  This was knowledge beyond that of the Second World. 
    "So, knowing that. I can now answer your question. If you are  not  the Prime Aspect of yourself. That means you are not  Stella Astral.  At least as far as Cosmic Law is concerned. To not be the Prime Aspect, you would be an effigy, or some manner of construct, such as a Veil. I'm sure you have already seen your original body sealed in crystal at the heart of Duvan. That is who you were shaped in the likeness of. I know not what means you used, but when you were destroyed, your magics fabricated an artificial form. I do not know if your spell copied your mind, or if you intended to forcefully transfer your soul or consciousness into this doll. Regardless, this is why you are not the Prime Aspect. All Aspects you create, would be Prime Aspects of an Non-Prime Aspect. Perhaps better envisioned as a 'true' or 'perfect' copy of an original 'fake'. This is in essence, what a Prime Aspect is. Thus, you could say you are currently your own Prime Aspect... but what you are Aspecting is a Non-Prime being... Its an ouroboros of conflict. A paradox born from magic made for the express purpose of violating this Law. I do not expect Vet'Cnros to be capable of comprehending this concept. Your magic is fashioned to break things, not understand them... Now as to the question of  why  you would want to become an Aspect. That is a different conversation."    
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 3/6 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮟  Spite : 1 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
 ⮯  Corrupted Fate  (Ra'Dolfaal)  
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (217,478xp)   (⮸ +100),   (⮯ -672 Exp Cost)  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※ LEARNING  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ INSIGHT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※SOVEREIGNTY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※NOBILITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ DISCOVERY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ VEIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ EVIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURSE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MEMORY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)
※ WORLDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FAITH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ ANCESTORS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ORIGIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DIVINITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※LEGENDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ PAST-LIFE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※REINCARNATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

Miryks nodded to himself as he listened to the Kindler's words. He took a moment to collect his thoughts once her voice fell silent, before allowing his voice to carry for any who would hear it.

 "For those watching, contemplate this. Why is it that I am First-Taken, and how should it be that I am the   first   of all the First-Taken? Those were the very words out of the Kindler's mouth upon my arrival here. So surprised was she about the swiftness of my arrival she said it a second time. Even so, I can tell you all with certainty that I am not the earliest to depart the Black Parade. Other De'Elka inevitably sought to realize their flame with even greater haste than my own. Pretenders all to greater powers than their minds could conceive, they suffered the Holy Void in darkness so deep it stole their light. Their forms reduced to nothing beneath the smile of the Reverend Maw, crushed into dust under the impossible weight of that inky abyss."

"My time comes, theirs came to an end."  Miryks's voice swelled now, gaining strength with its volume even as his flame sent tendrils spiraling higher in the air.  "None who came before have had the resilience to survive paired with the will to push forward. My life has been no stranger to hardship, and not short on strife. I am no stranger to secrets and subterfuge, and traded heavily in both. All qualities that will serve my new form and function well. All qualities that could serve a greater purpose beyond my own. My craft is particularly well suited for finding the truth wherever it may hide." 
 "I flourished while others wilted under the onslaught, unable or unwilling to abide their torment. The scars I bear from this tribulation are but momentary scratches. Whether now or in my forging, they will be removed, leaving only the knowledge they provided. I have braved the Unsung King's gaze as their malicious fury beat down upon me. I have endured the unending hunger of the Reverend Maw. When all hope was gone, I remained even after the last scraps of my form did not. I am the Painter of the Tempest, and you will know me now or you will one day hear whispers of the majesty of my design. The Sunjatha'la are merely a canvas, waiting for my brush." 

Miryks let the final notes of his voice fade from his own ears before taking a deep, measured breath, letting his flame calm to its normal size. It was up to them, now.   I cannot say I have this in the bag, for there is still much work to be done. But it is not the bag my enemies should be worried about, but the box.  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Diplomacy  - (1d20+20)[ 27 ]  Convincing the spectators of my worth
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 21 ]  The Kindler's reaction to my speech
  Perception  - (1d20+19)[ 24 ]  A sign of something catching the Kindler's gaze that I cannot see
 
Mornings
      
The ghost raised a brow, pausing as the fire began its grand declaration. The Kindler recoiled, visibly cringing in embarrassment. Her lifeless gaze held a sense of poorly masked disappointed pity.     "...I hope no one was listening to that. I know I said to 'declare yourself', but that is not what I had meant. Your  intent  with your new life, and how you might  further  the  influence  of others. Listen to what I tell you. Your Witnesses,  if any remain,  likely understand your circumstances - seemingly better than you do, by the sound of it. Being so rash might cause some misunderstandings and-"    
  "Quite the boast."   The chilling words cut the Kindler short,   "Bold lies."  . A second eerie voice disrupted the first.   "No. The prattling of a fool who believes his lies. That they themselves might become true."   The third voice was rough and hostile, but all three carried a feminine tone.      "Witches..."      The Kindler spat out the word like a curse.     "They cannot hear me, only you. Mind your words carefully, least they ruin your next life before it begins..."     The haunting woman's face grew deathly serious.     "You have err'd gravely. You never stood before the Unsung King. De'Elka are also uncommon in the Nightmare Worlds, but having a former one sleight their creator... Its offensive...  even to me.  If these Witches are loyal to the Black Conclave, or the Black Magister, you've made an enemy. If they are Vet'Cnros and hostile to the Conclave and the Unsung King, they are likely to hate you even more, because you are not their peer or equal. We will just have to hope they are Sunjath'la and Ros'wussrun."     She resisted the urge to point at him while they were being observed, be squinted pointedly at the burning chalice,     " No more off-handed comments.  You have not been educated in matters of the Otherworlds, only lived as a beast. Such words won't impress anyone here. Only make you look like an daft animal..."     She sharply shook the candelabra, ringing the bells once again, revealing three iridescent flames floating in the courtyard clearing.     "Your leverage in this bargain is your  intent , how you seek to live this next life, what achievements you seek... and  influence , how you might spread the interests of others. Your potential social reach, or how you might advance a field or study. Witches only care for magic and their own greed. Utilize this. Leverage it."      [Miryks: Diplomacy - Failure]   [Miryks: Sense Motive - Success]   [Miryks: Perception - Partial] 
  "Very well,  First-Taken.  I will be your Benefactor. I will afford you three Echoes, for half of all the mana you accumulate in your lifetime. Aren't I generous?"   The other fires cackled wickedly, as Witches do, perhaps. Miryks could only wonder if he would laugh like that too one day.   "Devote yourself to Necromancy, and provide me half your mana. I shall afford you four Echoes instead!"   The circle of colorful fires burst into mocking laughter a second time. The Kindler shook the bells again sharply, interrupting them as if to wordlessly say,  'serious offers only'. 

It seemed Miryks would have his first taste of dealing with Witches sooner than he anticipated.

 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
   ⮙ Fragments:    80,000   
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (10,700xp)     (⮸ +100xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)   (+2)  
※ TRUTH ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DREAMS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BLACK  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
forg99rules
 
 Stella felt that her mouth was hanging open slightly after Ulbeelta's explanation. She did not know that Aspects were such a confusing situation, and even more so, her situation was doubly confusing.   "That is all very insteresting... though very confusing in some ways as well."   Stella took a moment to mull over the information that was just provided to her, several things had popped out as interesting and thus she turned her mind towards them hoping the whispers might shed some meaning on them. The first thing on her mind was this Law of Reflection &amp; Interation, she wondered exactly what it was. Next was Imaginary worlds and what all those entailed and what made them different from Reality. Finally her mind wondered how exactly one makes an Aspect, if she could make her own Aspects then it was possible that she could gain even more information and power to help her out.   "This does raise a few more questions though, I am willing to pay for them if the cost is not to steep. The first one is regarding my original body, is it possible for me to be able to gain that back or should I count it as a loss? My second question would be in regards to that final statement, Why would one want to become an Aspect?"   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 14 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 24 ]  - Information regarding the Law of Reflection &amp; Interation
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 19 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 30 ]  - Information regarding Imaginary worlds
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 29 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 25 ]  - Information on what separates Reality from Imaginary Worlds
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 28 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 20 ]  - Looking for information on how one would make an Aspect
 
Mornings
     
Dumbfounded. Completely befuddled. Stella waited for the whispers to shed some light on the mysteries spoken to her. Yet, the whispers had very little to say. She had no idea what an 'Imaginary World' was supposed to be. Neither did the voices. Frighteningly little was known beyond the common-realms of the real. The pursuit of those strange and intangible things which existed within the mind was the domain of the Ros'wussrun. As Nightmare Witches themselves did not possess a physical form, they took great efforts to understand the impossible and unreal as natives of the Nightmare Worlds. Of course, as a Vet'Cnros, she had never actually been to, or seen anything related to the Ros'wussrun's native planes. She also did not know much about them, other than some bits about their education and their academy which rivaled even Zhenu'Magath. Though some Vet'Cnros had studied within the Nightmare Worlds, those Witches  still lived.  Thus, what knowledge they might have accumulated had not joined the ancestors. This problem was doubly so for the Sunjath'la, who looked down upon Ros'wussrun. Almost nothing was taught of their domains, except in the most private of lessons. Though, there was very little interest regardless, as Sunjath'la could not wield Ros'wussrun magics, nor were they welcomed within the Nightmare Worlds even if they could. As far as this...  'Great Law'.  She had no idea. What law? The only 'laws' she knew of were those laws enforced by the Justices or those representatives of the Three Houses of the Third World, such as Lady Black. Or perhaps even alike to other beings, like Ulbeelta himself. There was no way to know what he was talking about. Witches were not even privy to all the dealings of the Second World, and certainly not to anything beyond it. As far as Aspects were concerned... There were many magics which could create such things, to some extent. Though, she still did not truly understand the nature of the things themselves. Technically, a Veil could be an Aspect. This was the primary method Veil Witches used. Though, Stella did not have much experience actually using Veils.   [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Failure] 
    "The body of the Black Magister is...  recoverable . By yourself, or anyone else for that matter. If it were recovered, it is possible to claim a great deal of magic. However, you and her, are not the same. Whatever means you have used has created another being, rather than replacing her, or raising the  real  Black Magister from death. Of course, there is a chance this is a circumstance, rather than a state of being, related to your meddling within the Inverse. It is difficult to tell now with how muddled you've become. Recreated. Divergent. Fate-Corrupted. Inverse-Stranded. Aspect Reflected, and Aspected again... You are becoming quite the enigma unto yourself. Yet, I do not foresee you ever being capable of recovering your memories. At the least, not until you understand what you've done to yourself."      [Stella: Experience Points Traded - 3,915exp] 
    "There are a limitless number of reasons why one might seek to utilize an arcane Aspect, just as there are an infinite number of reasons for one to desire learning magic. Perhaps for some, it is merely a talent for it. For others, perhaps for money or vocation. There are many kinds of Aspects. Just as many as there are spells. Yet, the most common desires typically gravitate towards creating an additional level of protection, disguising oneself, or allowing a caster an easy means of travel. Many kinds of Aspect exist independent of the caster. Meaning, if they were to be destroyed, there would be no ill effects towards the one who created it. It would be something like a puppet, moved with your consciousness. There are many variations of this, some created as nothing more than a means to deliver other magics. Then, there are also those Aspects not created by magical means. Such as those iterations of the original being sewn to a separate Fate; a Fated Aspect. A method preferred by Fateweavers to usher new possibilities where there are none. There are also Reflections, like yourself. Those Aspects representing an unfulfilled Fate, once possible. Some of the most powerful beings prefer this method to harvest lifetimes of experience without needing to expend their own..."      [Stella: Experience Points Traded - 770exp] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 3/6 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮟  Spite : 1 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
 ⮯  Corrupted Fate  (Ra'Dolfaal)  
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (212,893xp)   (⮸ +100),   (⮯ -4,685 Exp Cost)  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※ LEARNING  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ INSIGHT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※SOVEREIGNTY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※NOBILITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ DISCOVERY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ VEIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ EVIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURSE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MEMORY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)
※ WORLDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FAITH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ ANCESTORS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ORIGIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DIVINITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※LEGENDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ PAST-LIFE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※REINCARNATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

The flame nodded to the Kindler, or as close of a nod as he could manage, before addressing the three visitors.  "If a fool I be, then ignorance is it's forebear. I am limited in both perspective and experience for matters beyond the First World. Yes, I did inflate my words, but such a  boast  was warranted. The truly powerful will rarely pass an opportunity to judge the obtuse."  The flame approximated a bow to each of the three, matching their order of speech.  "I would beg the names of those who deigned to grace me with their words."  Miryks flicked a quick glance at the Kindler, judging her reaction should any names be preferable over others for potential benefactors. The actual names held no meaning to himself for now, but they likely held much more significance for the Kindler.   Hopefully.   That the trio could not hear the Kindler was interesting, and quite possibly a godsend. She could freely comment to his benefit without fear of offending the gathered Witches.   I wonder if it's in the nature as Kindler that I am the only one who can see and hear her.  
 "I am not looking to be a dog, collared and chained to a post by its master. However. I am quite familiar with providing my service and fealty to one who has cause to demand it from me. My loyalty runs long and deep, as does my thirst for knowledge and power. I seek to be recreated in the likeness of the Mados, born a genius Witch, the likes of which have not been seen for eons, if ever before. Such latent ability could be used to further the designs of any whom I serve. By my rights as First-Taken, I intend to advance past the three systems of magic of the Sunjatha'la, accessing powers beyond what I would have otherwise been capable of. Ultimately, I strive to harness the magic of the Second World to accomplish my goals, as well as those of any such benefactor I may have."

"I have been told such a life will attract a great amount of attention, with as much of it bad as good if not more. I shall take the good with the bad, as word of me spreading will open a greater variety of doors than I may have otherwise had access to. The social hierarchy of the Sunjatha'la creates as many opportunities for the gifted as it denies to the inadequate. Arcane Aptitude will ensure my placement within this society, in fact,"  Miryks paused a moment here before continuing,  "-it would be quite interesting to study Sunjatha'lan law in depth. If I am to set myself up at the top, it would do well to fully understand the traditions that will keep me there. Forewarned is forearmed." 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Diplomacy  - (1d20+20)[ 24 ]  Appealing to the benefactors
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 28 ]  Reading the intentions of the benefactors
  Perception  - (1d20+19)[ 30 ]  The Kindler's reactions
  Local  - (1d20+11)[ 21 ]  The Black Conclave/Black Magister
  Appraise  - (1d20+14)[ 24 ]  The quality of any further offers
  Sense Doom  - (1d20+36)[ 54 ]  The benefactors influence

 
 Spoiler: If you wanted separate rolls for each benefactor 

  Diplomacy 2  - (1d20+20)[ 29 ]  Appealing to the benefactors
  Sense Motive 2  - (1d20+17)[ 18 ]  Reading the intentions of the benefactors
  Diplomacy 3  - (1d20+20)[ 35 ]  Appealing to the benefactors
  Sense Motive 3  - (1d20+17)[ 21 ]  Reading the intentions of the benefactors
 

 
Mornings
      
  "...Another puppet. I've lost my interest."   One of the flames suddenly winked out of existence without further warning.     "Evidently, not Sunjath'la."     The other fires chuckled in amusement.   "...So, a traditionalist then?"     "I don't hate that."   The fires paused to consider Miryks' words as the Kindler provided some commentary,     "Sunjath'la don't believe in the Mados. Or rather, they  do , but they do not  worship  the Mados. This is one of the conundrums of their culture. The Mados is their ancestral deity and this heritage has shaped nearly every facet of contemporary life, from their traditions to their beliefs. Yet, Sunjath'la are not a pious race. As a whole, they couldn't care less for the Mados. It is merely a means to an end, and justification for their bloated sense of self-worth as the 'divine race' who should inherit the Otherworlds. Much in the same way how a culture with an ancestral god still has priests and shamans, so too do Sunjath'la still have those devoted to these values.  'Suuz'Madosfan' , there is no simple translation you might understand, so imagine this as a 'traditionalist'. A Witch who is still zealous and committed to the classical beliefs. In the same way priests might hold great influence and be gifted beautiful cathedrals and temples of sculpted art, despite waning faith. These things are symbols of power, cultural heritage and most importantly, justification for the injustices wrought by the prevailing ruling class of Duvan. Even if they don't believe it themselves, even the lowliest Sunjath'la takes great pride in their own culture and the grace of the First King. In a sense it is egregious  not  to celebrate these things, and a common ploy used to manipulate social peers, least they damage their precious reputation...  A act worse than death. "      [Miryks: Diplomacy - Failure] 

The Kindler raised up the twisted charred magic rod above her head, ringing the bells as she spoke out to the burning guests,     "The First-Taken has been promised a Natural Aptitude of Luuth-Junna as reward."     One of the flames coughed in evident surprise while the other went completely mute.   "Luuth-Junna!? At birth? ...That is quite the gift."   The Kindler lowered her candelabra.     "The value of all life to the magical beings beyond the First World is measured across nine tiers, or rather, six classes if you're a Witch. These classifications are called the  L'Junna . The First Class, is more an assumption and theory of aptitude reserved only for the Witch Kings of old, and folktale myths of those called 'White Witches'. Realistically, the highest possible to achieve is Second Class, which is almost exclusive the the Gran Hexe... Meaning,  there are three Witches , with this distinction. This is a growth cultivated by only the most talented after thousands of years in study to hone themselves. Luuth-Junna is the Fourth Class, representing the greatest level of growth and a lifetime of achievements strived for by most, but realized by few. A Hexe has achieved this level of growth. The most powerful Witches, magical heroes of the Second World, magical authorities in a field of study and remarkable geniuses or savants may eventually reach these level. This degree of aptitude represents an average of two-hundred-and-fifty, to four-hundred years worth of devoted study and efforts from a truly gifted Witch simply to enter into this realm. While this does not make you the most powerful Witch walking the streets of Duvan, there has never been an infant child with this level of aptitude at birth. This means, you will need to work hard to fulfill your potential, but you are effectively the most valuable child of the realm; as the value of a life is decided by ones aptitude. You need to think carefully on your circumstances, and you will get some choice regarding where you might be born. Just remember, you do not serve these patrons, they are not gods. They are Witches, just like you will be."    
  "Perhaps, we might have been rude. I am Grand Savant Vanici Viacarri Vantil. Magister of the Greater Conclave. High Hexe of Zhenu'Magath. Coven Matron of Duvan'Ku. White Witch of Kathe. The Pale Apocalypse. Apostle of Kerym. Vassal of the First King. High Speaker of the Wheel &amp; Council...  and an Evoker by nature. "   The long string of appellative epithets came spewing out like a wave from a burst dam. He didn't know what all the titles meant, but he gathered at the very least he had met someone important.   "I am very interested in you, little flame. Perhaps we can come to terms."       "It appears I may have misspoken. If she is a White Witch, that means she is of the First Class of L'Junna, putting her aptitude on equal-footing with that assumed of the Witch King. The Conclave also oversees magic throughout the Worlds while the Wheel and Council govern universal law throughout the Garden... Quite the potential patron. Also, it is customary for Sunjath'la to furnish their most distinguishing titles when introducing themselves."     The Kindler seemed impressed by how well things were going thus far, but surprised by the nature of their guest. It seemed that there was much to potentially be gained here still.  [Miryks: Perception - Partial]   [Miryks: Appraise - Partial]   [Miryks: Sense Motive - Failure] 

Miryks had the feeling that this particular Witch could make his life very difficult if things didn't go well, though he didn't yet understand how. Those thoughts were sharply cut off as the second voice interjected.   "Hexe-Cross Valdis Erthe'Anon. She of Many Shadows. Witch of Nine Talons. Nightmare of Jun'athel. The Wakeless Dream. Speaker of the Thousand. Black-Blessed Witch of the Mados."   Miryks could hear the other flame sneer angrily at their other guest,     "A Witch who has become a Hexe, but thereafter betrays Duvan, is exiled. If they survive, they become a Hexe-Cross. An fearsome enemy of the Witches of Duvan."       "I will consider any request, if you would accept to be born as my daughter in exchange."     "-What!?"   It seemed that he had been pulled in the middle of something,  messy.   [Miryks: Sense Doom - Partial] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
   ⮙ Fragments:    80,000   
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (10,800xp)     (⮸ +100xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ TRUTH ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DREAMS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BLACK  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
forg99rules
 
 Stella scratched her head, Ulbeelta had been providing her with some very useful information. Yet still it seemed to just make her understand less and less what she should be doing. As well it seemed that the voices were at a loss when concerning some of the information that he had provided as well. Taking a breath to settle her mind she figured just asking about passages and their laws would be the next best solution to her problems,   "That is a lot of useful information, I don't understand myself how exactly I have gotten into all these situations that have led to what I am now but that is for another time I feel. I won't say that I am not a little sad that it wouldn't be easy for me to recover my memories, I feel like if I had those then a lot of my worries would not exist as they are... Though maybe they would just transition to even greater worries that are much larger in scale. I believe I might have just a few more questions and am willing to pay as before. The main two currently regard what Passages are and what the Laws of passages are... as well I guess what the Law of this current passage is."   Stella let her mind wander over the information again as she awaited a reply. 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 21 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 20 ]  - Looking for information on Fateweavers
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 21 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 32 ]  - Information on Fates
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 29 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 16 ]  - Information on Reflections
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 14 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 23 ]  - Information on Divergents
 
Mornings
      
    
 
   
 

 Welcome to the Second Cycle,
This is a brief introduction to Cycles and how they work. Within the TPD Campaign Setting a 'Cycle' is a complete Campaign, and is comprised of all Game Sessions pertaining that that game's Campaign. The concept of a Cycle is too unfathomable for Player Characters to ever meaningfully comprehend, as it is the sum total of everything possible within that game's Campaign. Not every Cycle is a sandbox environment, and may have clearly laid out objectives over a series of Game Modules, or even an Adventure Path. At certain times, these 'rails' presented in these Published Adventures represent destined events which must occur. Within the First World, this may be represented by Published Content, such as Rise of the Runelords by Paizo Publishing (as an example). When Player Characters deviate from these destined moments, they introduce a degree of chaos and corruption into the game. Similarly, the Primeval Dark represents an increasing natural degree of deviation which challenges these destined events and will inevitably change their course if not acted upon by Player Characters. When a great enough degree of corruption has changed the story and destined events, a 'Structured Cycle' (those games with a strict series of events or rails to follow), it 'Breaks'. A Cycle Break is a calamitous event where subsequent events stray further and further from what should happen. This is a dramatic violation of that Cycle's 'Laws' and is usually accompanied by drastic sharp increases to CR and the interference of beings from the Otherworlds. If this event cannot be stopped, or if characters cannot escape the Cycle after it has progressed beyond a recoverable point, all remaining Player Characters will likely be destroyed or the Cycle will end. When a Cycle ends, the current Campaign being played ends as well. Characters which remain in a Cycle which have ended are removed from the game and remain within the Midnight Between. Character Aspects which were destroyed in this way impart no penalty to the Primary Character (AKA: the Prime-Aspect).

The Midnight Between is a chronicled list of those things and events which no longer exist within a Cycle, and are thus removed from the game. Interference-in or knowledge-of with those things which once-were, represents a degree of persistent corruption which will forever blight Player Characters. The removal of events pertaining to prior countless fallen Cycles destroyed by the Primeval Dark mitigates its ability to spill into others. However, Player Character's actions may result in this corruption spreading, thus introducing hazards from previous Campaigns into new ones without appropriate scaling. The forces of the Third World will make great efforts to cull Player Characters who risk contaminating other Campaigns with this influence and repair such damages. Each such instance of corruption from one Cycle to another introduces a Divergence (an event or story specific happening from a prior Campaign into the current one). Places corrupted by the Primeval Dark introduce a dizzying array of events which challenge Player Character's concepts of reality, some of which are those not from their own Cycle.

 In this introduction Erik Ragnok has reached a sufficient level of corruption to re-introduce a Cycle which has ended. This is normally represented as an interactable scene from the previous Cycle. Introducing this level of corruption greatly blots a Player Character, making them a dire threat which cannot be allowed admittance into uncorrupted Cycles by the Third World. Player Characters which have been corrupted in this manner can still attempt to defeat the Primeval Dark by reclaiming Cycles from the Midnight Between, and purging them of the Night. Otherwise, Corrupted Player Characters will need to search for a means to purify themselves of this corruption. This effect impacts all Aspects and iterations which share the Player Character's knowledge or memories. 

Each time Player Characters complete a Cycle, they gain significant abilities, knowledge and lessen the influence of the Primeval Dark for all current Cycles. Player Characters are completely outmatched initially upon beginning the game, and have no knowledge of the scale or the threats they are facing, making success during a first play-through unlikely. Thus Player Characters will almost certainly need to utilize Cycles to make further favorable iterations of reality, that they might eventually defeat the Primeval Dark in their own Cycle.

Player Characters with a [Soul] Potential are eligible to create a Prime Aspect when beginning a new Cycle, during Player Recruitment threads and during special events in the TPD Campaign Setting. This Aspect must share the same name as the Primary Character, and retains the knowledge of the Primary Character which they are Aspecting, but may otherwise be of any class or vocation. [Soul] Potentials apply to all subsequent Aspects and provides a subsequent advantage with each new attempt going forward. If a Prime Aspect completes a Cycle, the Player is awarded with a Character Card with Perfect Echoes (All abilities, skills, potentials, class features, items, levels, racial features, traits, drawbacks, feats, acquired features and equipment are preserved on this Character Card).

Good luck. 
 
    
  ?????????, ????????????
Ulbeph, The Flooded Passage
First World, World Line 6, Cycle 2
1st Day of the 2nd Cycle of L'Lotha  

The fragments and scenes of memories stormed, and his mind was a ship in poor repair caught under those black clouds and roiling waves. It was a great wall, a crushing mountain dropped upon him. There was more information than a brain could interpret, rending it down into a meaningless blur of snapshots and motion. It was the afterimage of a fan's passing blades, leaving only the illusion of where they had been, though he could not possibly count each individual passing. Erik once again clutched his head in familiar pain. He could not understand it, but the message had at least settled in;  he was a greedy fool.  Like those men who'd sold their humanity and been reborn as a lich. His thirst was not for magical truths, but the knowledge of the world. That unquenchable desire now led him  here.  His gaze stretched out to the drowned city and its towering metal peaks. The city skyline of a ruined metropolis beneath the waves.

Afalloch's gaze drifted down her slender arms, examining herself carefully. Though no longer a whirl of shadows, her hair remained a spilling pool of lightless ink running through the water in all directions, like black tendrils without substance. Slowly her silver-gray eyes rose and settled on him.   A previous form from another Cycle. I am perfectly well, but I daresay, the same cannot be said of you.   There was a ripping darkness emanating out from him, as if something lingered beneath his skin where the dark energy had rent his armor and touched him.  Some manner of invisible wound.  Though he felt no pain, there were now black markings, sigils, eldritch things, crawling across his flesh like living tattoos.   You dared gaze upon what lay Betwixt. You have created this and so paid quite a substantial price... Though,  not too high , if you've good relations with the Midnight Between.   The Kindler crossed her arms doubtingly,   It makes no difference to me, but I do hope you've quite the connection. Ah, yes... You've fallen for Lalaphra. You're getting married? It was love at first sight! Congratulations. You can declare your romantic intent here...  where she is listening.    Erik wasn't dense enough to miss the not-so-subtle-hint. The Passage was evidently connected to L'Tu'Lantha more directly than anything else had ever been,  and the Primarch was listening. 
  Ulbeph... Yes, is a Passage. Yet, you're looking at the man and missing the 'Kingdom'. You've drawn out an entire Cycle as well, not just Ulbeph. As you've drawn from the Midnight Between, you've cast your lot with the Black and Lalaphra. The corruption you see emanating from your figure symbolizes this unholy union. You are marked now, an enemy of all Worlds. Your existence itself is now a blight and corruption by your knowing of its secrets. Now, you will not be allowed to return to any untainted Cycle. The Third World will invest every means of force to destroy you utterly should you do so. This makes Ashurbanipal an ally to the Midnight Between. Strangely, this is the most decisive thing I've seen you do thus far. Finally...   The Kindler didn't seem particularly displeased. In fact, she didn't seem to necessarily care about what direction they were going, as long as they had a heading.

  Ah, but just on case you might be wondering. Or you might have... miscalculated. Only I can decide who hears me. Furthermore, yes, this corruption can be removed... But its 'you', or 'it'. Not both. You, as you are, cannot continue to be allowed to exist if you wanted wipe this corruption away. There are different ways to go about this. I could pen your legacy into my Black Book, then destroy you before creating something else which will take your place. Or you could undergo a Rite of Transfiguration to burn away your corrupted existence. Perhaps beseech the Mados for intervention. Petition the House of Black. Pay the Goddess Lane's cost for a disguise to deceive the Third World... Or any number of things. There are many options, just don't contemplate them here aloud. Though, any long term solution still ends with some color of you being destroyed. For now at least, avoid mentioning such things, least you hurt the feelings of your new patron. There's no point trying to outwit her. You're not smart enough for such games, so you may as well opt for an emotional attack. I doubt she would spurn your confession, but she would hate you forever if you betrayed her later, in trying to be rid of your corruption... Just something to consider.    [Erik | Sense Motive - Success]   [Erik | Status: New Cycle - All Spite, Corrupted Fates &amp; Punitive Traits, Aside From Broken Armor Are Removed] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
   ⭯  Spite  : -2 (0)  ¦  ⮙  Fragments : 2335  
  ⭯  Trait - Corrupted Fate, Frozen Eternal:    The Cursed cannot benefit from energy reduction or energy immunity to frost or ice-effects from any source other than divine traits. The damage and the duration of these effects is four-times more effective against the Cursed.   
   ⮯ Trait - Broken Armor:  Your armor gains the broken condition. It requires repair. 
  ERIK'S EXPERIENCE  (72,900xp)     [⮯ Abstract -10,667]   ¦   (⮸ +160xp)   
  UNIQUE ITEMS  
  ⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Alloy Lancet
⬖  Acquired - ????: Unidentified Glass Rod Restraint x3
 ⬖  Greater World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)
⬖  Lesser World Fragment (Quatrek V'dre)  
  ⭯ (Removed)   Key-Bearer: The Key To Midnight  
 ⭯  "Mysterious Blade of Ashurbanipal"   - The sword has been lost. The difficulty of all events and quests outside of Ashurbanipal have significantly increased.  
  ERIK'S INFLUENCES  
※ TRUTH  ▰▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 31% (31/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SECRETS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 24% (24/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※CAUTION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)
※ DEATH  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※CURSE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ DESTINY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ FATE  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REALITY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 24% (24/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MARTIAL ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ TIME  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ BLACK  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ VOID  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DESTRUCTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※COURAGE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※BRAVERY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※GUARDIAN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※WARDEN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※HEROISM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LORD  ▰▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 34% (34/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ RECLAIMER  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ SALVATION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ANNIHILATION  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ PENANCE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ASTRAY   ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 26% (26/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※SEALS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ WORLDS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ CORRUPTION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SLAIN  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ RETURNED  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DIVERGED  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※WONDER ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)
※ MOTIVES  ▰▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 32% (32/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KEY-BEARER  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURIOUS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ KNOWLEDGE  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ DIVINE  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※ GODS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)  (+3) 
 

     
Mornings
     
Stella had grown somewhat familiar with the Fates during her time as Alicia. The threads which she turned and bent were 'Fates', and the shapes and orientation ushered forth all manner of energy and expression which she could turn against her enemies. Of course, she didn't actually understand the Fates on a deeper level, that had been knowledge which she had borrowed from the Unsung King. Her mind was as scattered as her thoughts, it was difficult to recall those things she had learned from so long ago. Fates were 'destiny', things which were supposed to happen. Somehow they were also related to the different kinds of Servitors known as Praeter and Relicuum. Of course, since she didn't control a Servitor herself, this was all conjecture from what little she could recall. It was practically a lifetime ago since she had left Duvan, and Veil Witches tended to act more off their feelings, rather than thorough study. Not to say that none took their formal studies, in fact the best of them were quite serious scholars. Yet, that made for a very small minority which could overcome their chaotic impulses and tumultuous thoughts. As far as the rest of what Ulbeelta had spoken... Well, these were things beyond Veils and simple magic. These were concepts relating to the secret machinations of reality. In a world where the average Witch barely understood the natural processes of refining mana, this was knowledge far beyond the common wisdom of the Second World. Nothing she had been taught could enlighten her to the truth of such matters. Even the Inverse was not thought to exist, it was merely concept and theory penned in abstract studies not found in any classroom. Adessa herself came upon the same impasse. The limitations of Second World knowledge, and so did she thrust herself into the Night to unravel the truths of reality herself. There was nothing to be known here, other than what she could discover herself.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Failure] 
    "Very well. Many of the concepts of planar travel are often central to those who are magically-inclined. Yet, the concepts of the Passages remain elusive to your kind. A plane or realm is a Passage. A dimensional space defined by a finite or sempiternal periphery. However, other things are also Passages, such as those transitory phases which allow travel between two different spaces, or two different realms. Passages come in all shapes and sizes. Each mode of travel which bends the space-time of a dimension to allow for travel is a Passage, such as what might be created from magic. The periphery of a dimensional bag which separates the outer-world from the inner-space is a Passage. The boundary beyond a spell such as a dimensional door, is a Passage. The illusion of movement within a teleportation spell, is a Passage. However, none of these remain a Passage. Each only becomes a Passage at the time they are interacted with, or something crosses their threshold. Larger spaces, such as the elemental plane of fire, would be an example of a different kind of Passage. One which is persistent. These are all an assortment of building blocks of various kinds of Passages interacting with one another. Things becoming Passages, then ceasing to be Passages. Passages connecting to Passages. These various kinds of Passages interact with one another in unique ways. However, there remains a distinct difference between the Passage of the Prime Material Plane of the First World, and a teleportation spell. This being the type of Passage it is, and the laws which govern how it behaves. Passages are the web which define the multi-universe spanning cosmos across each World. Yet, these differences grow larger as the significance of these Passages grow. More rules govern them. This is capitalized regarding travel between the Three Worlds or the Otherworlds. Without understanding some base level of how these Passages function, it is hazardous, if not suicidal attempting to venture into other corners of the Garden. There is no guarantee that blind travel will even place you within a survivable existential phase at your destination. The Passages themselves are simply a state of transference or a predefined group of definitions that express how some dimensionally enclosed space exists. However, how they are interpreted is governed by their rules. This in turn creates the natural order of things, from the array of existential phases, to where life is supposed to exist in those phase's orientation. This is, in its simplest form, a Passage."      [Stella: Experience Points Traded - 825exp] 
    "In regards to the Law of Passages. This is the definition of a Passage. How it is experienced. What it looks like. What is smells like. The order of the existential phases. Where life exists in relation to the phases. What things are native to this Passage. How things come and go. If there's water. Breathable air. Its size and dimensions. How it interacts with other Passages. If there is a tree, the Law states 'there is a tree'. If the tree has a thousand leaves, the Law states it has a thousand leaves. The points and methods which the Passage opens and terminates is defined by this Law, like the recesses of a jig-saw puzzle. Every Passage is governed by these Laws absolutely, and recorded in the White Book of Passages. The Novella Orsus. The sum-total of all Passages recorded upon its pages form  the Eternal Path of the Sublime Archon.  The Authority spanning every Cycle and wielded by D'Okkolah'rahn, Who Named Every Dark &amp; Passage Between. The Lady of Passages. This Authority and the Laws which it has defined form the skeleton which the Garden has been built upon. The Three Houses do not control these Passages, they merely enforce these Laws and build upon it, creating the whole of reality which comprises the Garden. The Laws of any single Passage is determined by who owns it, and the will of those greater forces which may further define the Eternal Path detailed by the Novella Orsus. Only those who bear the title of Primarch, Keeper, Kindler or Emissary can own an individual Passage. Those powers which stand as authorities above this are the Lady of Passages. Her children, the twin gods O'Rahn and O'Rel. The Lord of Ashurbanipal and the Elghin'Mados. Or, ultimately, the Kindler of Zek'Taur who stands above every Authority."

"The Laws which govern each Passage are known only to those who define them. Though, they can largely be experienced simply by looking at your own surroundings. Universal Laws also exist, such as those which limit, or completely deny unnecessary travel. Such Laws include the outlawing of Worldly travel. The Prevention of travel to secured Passages. The Prevention of travel from locked Passages, and the Law of the Hearth. A rule which allows those victims who have been illegally removed from their native World against their will to be returned, though at some cost. It is the responsibility of Emissaries to listen to such complaints and determine if such cases are valid. It is also Emissaries who commonly facilitate legal travel between Passages at gates where travel might be permitted. Even if travel is permitted from a point, that does not mean travel is permitted to your desired destination if it is secured from outside intervention, or locked to prevent its denizens from leaving. All such requests can be expected to incur some degree of Fragment Cost in exchange; a currency of stored energy near-universal to all Passages."      [Stella: Experience Points Traded - 3,129exp] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 3/6 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮟  Spite : 1 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
 ⮯  Corrupted Fate  (Ra'Dolfaal)  
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (209,239xp)   (⮸ +300),   (⮯ -3,954 Exp Cost)  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※ LEARNING  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※ INSIGHT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※SOVEREIGNTY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※NOBILITY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ DISCOVERY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※ TRAVEL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ VEIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ EVIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURSE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※MEMORY ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)
※ WORLDS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FAITH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ ANCESTORS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ORIGIN ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ DIVINITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LEGENDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ PAST-LIFE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※REINCARNATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
 

     
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

It was a risk he accepted, so one flame departing almost immediately was not a surprise to Miryks, and almost a relief. He had no interest in the Necromancy of his previous life, and would have been very reluctant to devote this new life to it, even if that flame's offer had been lesser of three evils. Still, a small knot formed within him at the loss of a potential patron. Regardless of the source, Miryks's next life would be so much the weaker for not having a patron. But the next words they spoke calmed this worry considerably.

  Not Sunjath'la, so not a loss I should lament after all.   The change in the remaining patron's tone and words lay the groundwork for the Kindler's explanation of their relationship with Mados.   Pious in the streets, heathen in the sheets,   the bawdy colloquialism found its way into his mind. Reputation was paramount, and appearances were everything, independent of actuality. A ringing of the bells interrupted Miryks's thoughts as the Kindler announced his Natural Aptitude. Those words meant little to him now, so it was the first patron's response that stole his breath. The Kindler's following explanation left him in awe.   Never before?!   He could scarcely believe, to be handed promise that cost others hundreds of years of dedicated study, and even then there were no guarantees. He would have to be resolute with his studies to realize this great possibility, certainly, but knowing it was within his grasp was  exhilarating . His flame practically sparked at the thoughts of his future.

A voice broke the silence once more, and Miryks recognized her as both the first flame to address him and the first to make an offer. Going through her list of titles and accomplishments, he couldn't help but feel quite small. Regardless of his Aptitude, which bore the unspoken truth of exceeding both their own at birth, this pair had fully realized their own great power. They wielded magic far beyond his comprehension, and it would be a great many decades of study to hope to even approach them. One thing stood out to him, however, as Grand Savant Vanici Viacarri Vantil finished her list. For someone of her skill, her ability, her prestige, it would be expected that listing her many, many titles would have become second nature. Yet, these words flooded out of her with power and zeal. It may have been a small thing, but  she was excited , and so too was he. The Kindler further solidified his feelings with both word and demeanor; then the second flame spoke.

Hexe-Cross Valdis Erthe'Anon's list was abbreviated when compared to that of Grand Savant Vanici Viacarri Vantil. Even without the Kindler's explanation, Grand Savant Vanici Viacarri Vantil's reaction said it all. These two were bitter enemies in theory, if not in practice. It stuck out to him that Vantil's response would be so visceral, compared to the silence of Erthe'Anon. The former had stated her name in full without a response from the latter. Titles were one thing, but who was the stronger of the two? Which could provide the more advantageous start to his new life?   Wait, what?  
 "-your daughter, Hexe-Cross Valdis Erthe'Anon?"  Miryks looked to the Kindler for any sort of confirmation to this unexpected development.  "Do you have other children?"  Was there more for her to gain from having him as her daughter than Miryks understood?   Is becoming her daughter as extraordinary an offer as it sounds? Or would it inevitably lead to me ceding more than I was prepared to do?  
 "Your titles denote many powerful positions, Grand Savant Vanici Viacarri Vantil. Influences that I am sure carry great weight. Do you also wish to make an offer at this time?"  Miryks was curious what offer she would be willing to make, seeing as how Valdis seemed to have set the bar so high so soon. He knew Vanici was interested, she had said as much, but what was she willing to offer for him to choose her as patron?

At the very least, there was nothing to be gained from pitting one against another. Grand Savant Vanici Viacarri Vantil was more than willing to voice her displeasure, sharing even a proximity with Hexe-Cross Valdis Erthe'Anon. If there was confrontation to be had, he had best keep himself out of it as much as possible. It would be a delicate balance for him to strike, courting offers from opposing sides like this.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Diplomacy  - (1d20+20)[ 38 ]  Dealing with the pair
  Perception  - (1d20+19)[ 36 ]  The Kindler's continued reactions
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 23 ]  The pair's continued speech and offers
  Sense Doom  - (1d20+36)[ 44 ]  Having Valdis as a mother vs. a patron
  Local  - (1d20+11)[ 21 ]  Vanici's titles
  Local  - (1d20+11)[ 31 ]  Valdis's titles
  Appraisal  - (1d20+14)[ 28 ]  Valdis vs. Vanici's offer
 
Mornings
      
The Kindler nodded approvingly as the flame spoke,     "Wise of you to make your address with their title. It was disrespectful of them to begin with their names first, but that is a sleight someone in your position must endure. Best to ask such questions even if fail in your negotiations. It is very useful information."     The Black-Blessed Witch paused before finally giving a response to Miryks question,   "I have two children, little flame. You did not mishear me. This next life is promising. I would ask that your rebirth comes as my daughter, born to my House."   The Magister sneered,   "What is this prattle? The House of Erthe'tevel no longer exists. Your actions destroyed it-"   The words were cut short with a response directed at Miryks himself.   "The House of Anon'ri'telba."   This time no curt words were forthcoming.     "Just as life is weighed upon ranks of Aptitude, so is social influence and accomplishments within the meritocracy of Duvan. This is the system of castes which form the whole of the plane of Duvan. It is named L'Kaas. Those who bear the social titles of 'Tevel' and 'Telba' in their names are 'Annu-Kaas', the highest caste within that realm. However, there is a massive gap between them still, as Tevel is the peak of the Annu-Kaas and Telba is the bottom floor of it. Outside of peers within the Annu-Kaas, you would be practically worshipped. However, you would be looked down upon by peers. Like a commoner who was granted knighthood and feigned to belong to the peerage. All who belong to this caste are of the highest noble lineages, but they are not equal.... Think  very carefully on this.  You will be allowed to choose your exact House and lineage you will be born to... Though, not your mother. If you are very invested in your social position, it is also worth noting that Magister Vantil carries five Zhen'Annu-Kaas titles... This is the caste above Annu-Kaas, and is the highest possible degree of social status possible. These titles cannot be shared with a Noble House, but increases their standing to 'Tevel' merely with one such achievement."

"It is worth noting that Anon'ri'telba is a House with significant pedigree. The epaulet of "Ri" is a ceremonial title carried by some ancient families from before the founding of Duvan. Unfortunately, they have been floundering since the collapse of the House of its branch-family, whom largely had supported them financially. They retain some relevance though continuous progressive research in magical fields, but they have not shown themselves in public fares since. This has led to them stagnating socially, which is... very foreboding within Duvan. Perhaps synonymous with a slow bleeding death. They possess many capable Witches and forward-thinking magicians unafraid to depart from tradition to understand the nature of magic to a deeper degree. However... They are also poor. They will not be capable of accepting the large burden your education would incur.... I will provide details of the other eligible Houses as well when we get to that. Do keep in mind, there are many ethnicities of the Sunjath'la race. Your House will also limit those options as noble families are rather careful regarding their shared blood. Most distinguished families would sooner drown a mixed-blood child, or murder a promiscuous daughter to avoid diluting their hereditary heritage. Marriages can be arranged, joining Houses is a powerful political tool, though some also prefer only allowing children born of two relatives. One's Aptitude is directly linked to the traits of your blood. As Aptitude is the value of life, it comes before all other such things. Needless to say... you will have many suitors."    

The flame of the Magister seemed to bob before her words came,   "Oh, flame. Please understand, this...  Hexe-Cross , makes offers directly opposed to me. I cannot make dealings with traitor-spawn, to be sure."     "Rather. You cannot be  caught  making dealings with traitor-spawn."     "...Quite."   The Kindler placed a hand politely over her mouth to mask her snickering face.     "The Black Witch does not share the same subtly as the Magister. It is quite uncouth to say the quiet-part aloud. No Witch of Duvan actually cares about the business of a Hexe-Cross or her associates. Yet, they owe a social responsibility to pursue and impede any such matters and refuse to deal with you favorably if you were such a sympathizer... Though none of that matters if no other Witch is aware of your position. Regardless, it places any would-be friend or patron into a precarious position, where if you are exposed, they will be dragged down with you. That is not an acceptable risk for most."       "I place no trust in the guile of children and fools. Very soon you will be both, or one already. At the least, I will make no offer to a child of that House. But if you are willing to consider other avenues... I ask you be born to any House or family of Kathe. I am an Evoker by nature... If you wish to pursue the finer arts of destruction, annihilation and obliteration you will find no finer host. I educate the gifted across all of the Three Worlds and the Out-Worlds beyond. I will see that you lack for nothing to become the Evoker you were destined to be. It will be I who will see you are properly educated and I will gift you the means now to refine your gifts."    [Miryks: Diplomacy - Success] 

The Kindler raised a brow, not in a skeptical manner, but in surprise.     "They're both good offers... But the Magister's is better. However... It is vital to understand that Kathe is another World. It does not belong to the same plane of existence as Duvan. Katherine Witches do eventually  attend their final studies at the Grand Academy of Zhenu'Magath within Duvan, in their later years. Kathy magics require a longer cycle of education, so they often arrive to Duvan as transferred students part-way into a semester, or wait until they are older to begin at a term's beginning. The World of Kathe and its Witches are very different than the rest of the Magical Worlds. It is secretive and isolated. Other than this, almost everything else is fervently guarded without even the slightest hint or rumor tolerated. It is even questionable to speak the World's name aloud depending on your race or caste... While I can give more details than this, you must understand, that knowing such details may tempt you to act upon it, or even speak in reference to these matters... These are all actions which would result in your expeditious assassination. You have already learned enough here to justify your death if you were born into a lower caste. This is the level of responsibility you carry."

"That aside, a Grand Savant of the Conclave has a different definition to 'evocation' than you might be familiar with. Most of their spells tend to be weighed by some unit of 'solar masses'. In other words, how many stars worth of energy is condensed into their magic. Magister Vantil is speaking truthfully, she does teach students of the Third World and various Otherworlds as well. Though, it will be some time before you are ready for that level of learning, she is a Director of three academies, I'm sure you would have no difficulty being taught properly and she would see your vast list of needs are met. The Hexe-Cross makes a good proposal, but you would be burdened by her crimes and always under threat that your secret as her child might be exposed. As a Hexe-Cross she is not bound by tradition and understand magics beyond that of Duvan or Kathe, but there is a great deal of uncertainty and looming threats. There is no one who would help you if exposed and what little prospects you held for your education would be lost. You could brave across the Worlds to find another school, but it could be a perilous venture, potentially lasting centuries... In my opinion, a lifetime of risk is not worth the reward."     High-risk, high-reward, was not an appropriate comparison here. He was certain that the Kindler spoke the truth. It was a threat he could never live-down in a universe filled with immortals. His future and potential aspects or hopes for his life would come crumbling down around him if he were exposed. Even if he was not revealed, he could be blackmailed by a rival. It was a deathly weakness he would inherit. Perhaps there was a future in which he could grow beyond the clutches of the city, beyond the constraints of this culture and its enemies. If that future could exist, it was something far away and blurred by clouds of uncertainty.  [Miryks: Sense Doom - Success]   [Miryks: Sense Motive - Partial]   [Miryks: Sense Motive - Success]   [Miryks: Appraisal - Partial] 

Miryks was not familiar with any of the Magister's titles, but the Hexe-Cross had referred to herself in terms that were familiar to a Nightmare Beast. 'The Wakeless Dream' was not a thing, but a place. A realm of the Nightmare Worlds which wandered through every universe beyond the Dream, creating temporary bridges where beasts could leave or the living could enter. It was a roiling calamity upon the real, expanding the Dream at unexpected times and unknown manners. It was a malestrom of vast and limitless possibility which represented the furthest one could wander aimlessly. It was the fog. The infinite periphery beyond the defined. It was the featureless darkness. The blinding white. The nothingness of the Dream which stretched on forever. The Nightmare of Jun'athel was the name of Dream-God who tormented the Wild Dark. The Coiling White Calamity,  Effal .  [Miryks: Knowledge (Local) - Partial] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
   ⮙ Fragments:    80,000   
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (11,230xp)     (⮸ +430xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)   (+2)  
※ TRUTH ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)   (+2)  
※ DREAMS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 26% (26/100 EXP)   (+5)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 26% (26/100 EXP)   (+5)  
※ BEASTS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)   (+2)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)   (+2)  
※ BLACK  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 24% (24/100 EXP)   (+5)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)   (+2)  
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)   (+2)  
※ MAGIC  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)   (+2)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)   (+3)  
 

      
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  
 "Hexe-Cross Valdis Erthe'Anon, I do not doubt your prowess, but I cannot accept that offer."  The flame approximated a polite bow to her.  "The power and flexibility of your proposal is outweighed by the risk of discovery. Secrets, even closely guarded ones, have a way of becoming whispers, and whispers can be bought. Two people can truly keep a secret only when one is dead."    Not to mention who in your family and house were sacrificed for the future given to you by this betrayal,   Miryks thought dryly.  "I have witnessed the powerful fall to the weak, simply from a closely guarded secret finding the wrong ears. And it doesn't even have to have such intent! Words carry. Conversations are overheard. Eaves are dropped. I do not intend to permit  an accident  to tear down what we are building here today."  This was the simple truth of her offer, it would force him to operate in the shadows when everything else about this life was destined to shine across the Second World. Bearing the burden of the Hexe-Cross's betrayal would paint too large a target on his back. It would limit his dealings. His friends. His teachers. Any who were in a place to help could easily turn against him.   Should I be discovered, it would likewise condemn any who aided me, regardless of their foreknowledge of her birth. The decision to burn all around me to ash is not one I am prepared to make in the here and now. And I won't make that choice for her.  
 "As the Kindler suggested, Grand Savant Vanici Viacarri Vantil, your offer is the better of the two."  Miryks let those words play in his mind, as he decided how to continue his thoughts.  "Your offers of both opportunity and provision are appreciated."  Another bow.  "If I may ask, why Kathe? What about that world would provide greater promise in my upbringing for you, or I, than Duvan? Please know that my questions are not meant to challenge, but to seek the wisdom your knowledge could impart by their answer."  The pair were still witches, after all. There was something to balance the scales of their offers, though he may never fully appreciate what that was. For the Hexe-Cross, it may pave a way back into the light, or further solidify her strength against any that oppose her. For the Grand Savant, he would be hard pressed to even guess. Even without the shadow of the Hexe'Cross's betrayal hanging over him, the many titles, connections and reach of the Grand Savant seemed to outweigh what the former could provide. Miryks idly wondered just what had caused the Hexe-Cross to consider betrayal in the first place.

 "I would not mind keeping the secrets of Kathe, as they would not demand such a burden of me as others may."  The comment was for the Kindler almost as much as it was for the Grand Savant.  "As always, your words are appreciated." 
 "How will the agreement be struck?" 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Nobility  - (1d20+7)[ 8 ]  The House of Anon'ri'telba
  Diplomacy  - (1d20+20)[ 22 ]  Speaking with the two witches
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 37 ]  The Grand Savant's response, or lack thereof, about Kathe
  Sense Doom  - (1d20+36)[ 44 ]  The World of Kathe
[roll=Local]1d20+11 Sealing the deal[/roll]
 
Mornings
      
  "Ho? Is the Kindler choosing sides now?"   The words hung there for a moment giving Miryks a sense of uneasiness.  Had he said something he shouldn't have?  The Kindler signed,     "Pay it no mind. She's toying with you. Of course I would dismiss unrealistic or unfavorable offers, just as I did when there were three."     Then the Witch continued,   "...She is right of course. Forgive my meddling. I felt you still in needing of being put to proof. Allow me to present my offer again... Accept a Patron of my choosing. The Relicuum, Cas'Haphel."       "A Witch's Patron is a secret and personal choice. No one can object to whom it might be."     The Magister's flame seemed to shrug,   "I have no place interfering in one's Patron. Yet, it is not a poor development for me just the same. She Who Spoke of Endings is a Patron of Kathe. I have no objections to this."  

Miryks didn't know anything about noble Witch houses, their culture or history, but at the very least it looked as if the two potential sponsors had come to some manner of agreement. While he did not know anything of Kathe, it seemed there was something which separated it from the rest of everything, perhaps that wouldn't be a bad thing. The Magister seemed to chuckle over his question,   "I am a Witch of Kathe. My interests align only with those of the World of Kathe. I care not for Duvan'Ku or the prattling of distant cousins. Securing one of your promise for our World is a great boon, both for our peoples and our race. That which serves for the betterment of our kind and the security of our World remains my priority."       "The Kathy Witches are Sunjath'la, but they are perhaps closer to another race entirely, rather than a different ethnicity. Their blood remains undiluted since the Age of the First King, and so they all display similar visual features and characteristics. Kathe is also a different universe, a plane of reality unto itself, unrelated to Duvan. They do not have any particular interest or investment into the plane inhabited by their distant relatives, they simply co-exist. However, while Duvan remains open to them, the same cannot be said of Kathe, which is sealed any except its own denizens. It appears, you have come to favorable terms with the Magister. I shall proceed."      [Miryks: Sense Doom - Partial]   [Miryks: Knowledge - Failure] 
  "It appears our deal is settled then. We will meet again after your rebirth. The Kindler will tend to the rest."   With that, the fire winked out of existence and a silver flash flared from the Kindler's bells.     "I have received the Blessing to provide in her stead."       "...That just leaves, our business."  
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
   ⮙ Fragments:    80,000   
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (11,350xp)     (⮸ +120xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 25% (25/100 EXP)   (+3)  
※ TRUTH ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DREAMS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 27% (27/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 27% (27/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)   (+3)  
※ BLACK  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 25% (25/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)   (+2)  
※ MAGIC  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)   (+2)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

The Relicuum, Cas'Haphel. She Who Spoke of Endings. Yet another name and title for Miryks to contend with. The Kindler's earlier words echoed in his mind:     -they say 'a genius has a thousand mothers'    . Gods, Kindlers, Benefactors and now Patrons. What he had initially taken for an exaggeration of a saying, was becoming clearer to him.   I just hope I won't have to maneuver the complexities of a thousand unique contracts,   he thought dryly.

The Magister's response suited Miryks just fine, though it was a touch more selfless than he had expected. He supposed it was worded that way deliberately, and he considered what the two remaining witches thoughts of him may be. They had initially come to ridicule and deride, though that came to a halt rather quickly. Even their own feud seemed forgotten, now that the requests were not overtly at odds with one another. Miryks wondered how much was their own changed perspective of him, or their own attitudes showing more clearly, since even The Kindler had seemed to relax. Even so, it was difficult not to remember the word  Witches  being spat like a curse upon the trio's first arrival. He would trust them only so far.

 "Indeed, Hexe-Cross Valdis Erthe'Anon."  A slight pause before Miryks continued.  "Though I am currently unaware of the specifics for how a Patron would work, let alone with one such as The Relicuum, Cas'Haphel."  The Hexe-Cross seemed to have interests in Kathe as well, which may have gone a long way in calming The Magister's reluctance to deal with 'traitor-spawn'.   The quiet part indeed.   It was interesting to consider who The Relicuum was to the Hexe-Cross, but Miryks swept aside that line of thought for the moment. Even if he was able to discern their connection, it mattered very little in the here and now. More pressing was The Relicuum would provide, and what she would demand in return. 'She Who Spoke of Endings', as The Magister called her, was an intriguing title to hold. Seeing the future was hopefully not far from the mark, and such a Patron on his side would be a welcome addition.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Diplomacy  - (1d20+20)[ 40 ]  Speaking with the Hexe-Cross
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 33 ]  Her reasons for choosing Cas'Haphel
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 22 ]  The Magister's seeming indifference to the choice of Patron
  Local  - (1d20+11)[ 30 ]  Ca'Haphel, The Relicuum, She Who Spoke of Endings
  Sense Doom  - (1d20+36)[ 42 ]  The nature of a Patron
 
Mornings
      
  "...Fundamentally, a Witch Patron is the one who grants a Witch her magic. This is an over-simplification of very basic, foundational knowledge, but I am not here to teach you. I leave that to whatever education you find in your next life."   It took him a moment to pause and contemplate, only then did he realize his initial assertions had been flawed. It was not that the Magister was somehow now in a neutral position, but that the circumstances themselves now favored her position. She had said it herself,  "...a Patron of Kathe".  She had meant that quite literally. This Patron was one of the Witch Patrons of Kathe. One of these enigmatic beings which granted magic to the Witches of Kathe. There were likely various such beings, however this one somehow allowed both the Hexe-Cross and the Magister's interests to align. If this were true, then he was perhaps even more of a fool than he'd thought. Miryks had been living with the assumption that the interests and coalescence of those interests of Witches were all made manifest with the expression of the 'self'. Me. Myself. Mine. 'My magic'. 'My power'. But if this fundementally contradicted the nature of how such magic, such beings functioned...  He was truly the fool sauntering blindly.  This was a race of beings in which the 'self' was not, and could not serve as the sole storage of power or wealth. It was distributed. Invested into bodies, like this Patron. He would have to reprogram his way of thinking. If these bodies were stores of wealth and power, he could begin to understand things a bit more. Suddenly, the Magister's words didn't seem so magnanimous or charitable. This changed the nature of 'greed' and personal interests. If Witches of Kathe only benefited by empowering these pools, these stores of power belonging to Kathe, then it was just another means of serving one's self. This web or interests did not just serve the whole, they favored the elite, just as the Kindler said. He was far beyond his depth...  [Miryks: Sense Motive - Partial]   [Miryks: Sense Doom - Partial] 
  "My offered Patron is native to Kathe, which favors your decision. Her tradition is not common there, but not obscure or taboo. Her influence and interests align with my own. As long as she remains your Patron, I will know your actions and achievements will not oppose me. My Blessing will persist for as long as you retain this Patron. It is not a poor deal. I will grant you great boons to preserve your previous life. I will afford the cost of six of your skills, three of your physical or mental abilities, three feats, a trait, one defensive skill, and four of any vocational features or potentials you have learned. In addition I will pay for four Memory Slots for your new body and pay an additional fifteen-percent of the Fragment Cost for any life-experience you must burn with the Kindler. This is my offer."    [Miryks: Diplomacy - Success] 

The Kindler paused to consider the offer.     "She's offering more than she's asking... It's very one-sided, in your favor. I feel she is probably desperate, but make no mistake, it is a very lucrative offer. She will front the majority of the costs for your Card, though it will still be incomplete. Anything you cannot Brand, must be given to me. I will burn all such ruminants of your previous life and pay the difference. This includes your prior experiences and influences. You might be able to convince her to offer more... But you might risk her making additional demands."

"I am unaware how the Relicuum's interests align with the Hexe-Cross, but I can provide some details of Witch Patrons. In many regards, they do not differ in nature from those of First-World witches. Though, their system is certainly derivative of Second-World Witches, they are like comparing water and wine; the most diluted expression versus the most concentrated. A Patron is an enigmatic entity, sometimes they may be fair-minded, often times they are malevolent, but each have their own interests, influences and domains. Any number of things can become Witch Patrons, as long as they are magical in nature. Gods or spirits, perhaps even things in-between, such as a Relicuum. Some may simply be expressions of cosmic forces, or manifestations of the web-work of Witch consciousnesses stitched together and given life. A Patron shares with a Witch their magics and grants them a token or guardian, known as a familiar, in which their magic is contained. They disperse power to those whose interests or mindsets align with their own or who might serve their needs or desires. When a Witch drifts or deviates from this cause or motivation, or she refuses to pay the costs related to such gifts, the Patron divests the Witch of her powers and departs... At least for more, good-natured Patrons. Kindly Patrons... are rare. Typically not attracting as much attention from what are typically ruthless Witches. However, malicious or wicked Patrons prefer long-lasting relationships. They do not simply retract their powers and end this relationship. They will often go out of their way to doggedly pursue their Witches and bring those who have gone astray back into the fold. Often by means of coercion, punishing disobedience or mental manipulations in a manner far more personal than that of an evil god and its priests. The familiar of an evil Patron thus becomes the eyes of the Patron. Equal parts gift and sentinel. A sleepless prison guard constantly studying it charge for any signs of disobedience... You can of course have as many Patrons as you'd like, but this could be a problem if those Patrons conflict with one another. You must also observe acts of curtsy and obedience, at the least consisting of referring to the Patron appropriately. In this case, if you were to accept, the only appropriate name would be "She Who Spoke of Endings". You can consider this more in the future, as I will grant you the option to decide which if any Blessings you wish to apply before we begin."    
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
   ⮙ Fragments:    80,000   
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (11,470xp)     (⮸ +120xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 27% (27/100 EXP)   (+2)  
※ TRUTH ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)   (+2)  
※ DREAMS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 28% (28/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 28% (28/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 24% (24/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)   (+2)  
※ BLACK  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 26% (26/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 24% (24/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 24% (24/100 EXP)   (+3)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
forg99rules
 
 Stella's head swam a bit as she tried to piece together all the information that was given to her. Her mind turned over the various names trying to find what she knew regarding them while she also tried to piece together how she could use the information to get out of the current place.   "Thats, a lot of information... Though, I do understand a lot more about how passages work now as well maybe how I can leave... Of course I could be wrong on that front. I assume that the Law of the Hearth doesn't apply to me, since I only ended up at a lower phase and not in a different passage as well me being here still makes me feel it doesn't apply. My current theory is that I need to talk to the Keeper or Emissary if I wish to leave this passage. I am not sure what happened to the Keeper when Adessa did whatever she did, am I correct in the thought that this is her passage? Can you tell me what happened to the Keeper and If I could speak to either her or the Emissary? Though now that I think about it again I don't think I have Fragments to exchange... Not even sure what Fragments are... Could you explain what these Fragments that are used as currency are?"   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 23 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 18 ]  - Information regarding White book of Passages
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 26 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 28 ]  - Information regarding the Eternal path of the Sublime Archon
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 32 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 32 ]  - Information regarding D'Okkolah'rahn
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 23 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 30 ]  - Information regarding the Titles "Primarch, Keeper, Kindler or Emissary"
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 14 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 28 ]  - Information regarding O'Rahn
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 23 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 22 ]  - Information regarding O'rel
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 25 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 32 ]  - Information regarding The Lord of Ashurbanipal
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 28 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 20 ]  - Information regarding the Kindler of Zek'Taur
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 14 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 19 ]  - Information regarding Fragments
 
Mornings
     
For a Witch of Duvan, most of any third-party involvement related to planar travel would be dealt with by interfacing with her Patron, or a Teller. In the case of a Vet'Cnros like herself, this would come in the form of one of their ancestral Patrons, such as the Scion of Dark Seasons, the Mados, or the House of Black. This was under the assumption that this example was referring to a veteran Witch. One who had lived long enough to err, learn and develop a meaningful relation with her Patron. For young Veil Witches, they simply thrust their hands into the fire until they had been burned enough to learn better. In the case of Sunjath'la, they simply worked with their Patron, their House or simply filed the appropriate paperwork and dues defined by the city. Within their shared culture in Duvan, the title of 'Keeper', or more precisely,  'Ser'Yorl-Thas',  was a distinction of L'Kaas, or 'social rank'. While all of these things were invented by Sunjath'la, as denizens of Duvan, Vet'Cnros observed all such honors as well. The title of Ser'Yorl-Thas was a great honor of the highest possible distinction. It was a special rank within the social ladder of the Zhen'Annu-Kaas, the 'ascendant' or 'heavenly' caste, which was populated by such beings like the Gran Hexe or the Hexen herself. Every Witch King reigned within this caste and stood at the head of Duvan culture and power. Tenebris herself was the sole holder of the 'First Title' of this caste, standing as the ultimate authority over all Witches within the plane of Duvan. As a 'special rank', the Keeper did not exist within a lateral comparison with the other title-holders within the same caste, and stood as something of a third-party. A Keeper was traditionally any Witch appointed by the Third World to see to, and administrate over a realm - or  Passage  in this case. It was perhaps more difficult to achieve this than winning the crown of the Hexen itself, as it was both difficult and perilous to garner the favorable attentions or beings beyond their own reality and be trusted enough by them to be given a piece of the universe to rule over as their own. This was seen as a responsibility perhaps akin to a 'lesser king', fit to rule, but not to reign over Duvan.   [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Success] 

There was much that Stella had forgotten herself, but the whispers continued to fill in the blank spaces within her faded memories. Keepers represented some of the most powerful forces outside the city, and perhaps the singular most powerful force within their own domains which they ruled. Not every Passage required a Keeper, but those places of particular importance often had such a Witch appointed to it for safekeeping. B'Belka herself was the Keeper of Jun'athiel. Within this realm, she was effectively god... which made Adessa's willingness for violence all the more frightening. Unfortunately, as to the rest, with Emissary's and everything else, she hadn't the slightest idea. The Knowledge of the Abstract taught within Zhenu'Magath only stretched to the furthest reaches of the Second World and the Near-Otherworlds - those universes adjacent. Those matters beyond this, were beyond the knowing of simple Witches, or any paramortal. Similarly, her knowledge of Passages and this 'Ashurbanipal' was also lacking. Supposedly this place, a Kindler and whatever was involved here was primarily responsible for managing some things about Passages. To what extent, how, or even why, these were all beyond her knowledge. It was somehow related to laws, but Vet'Cnros ignored such trivial things.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Failure] 

Stella was not Sunjath'la and she couldn't having ever recalled putting much attention towards remembering Sunjath'la folklore and culture. What did a Veil Witch care for such things? With the whisper's aid, she could distantly recall that the Lady of Passages belonged to a trinity of deities, sister gods. Those being Okkolah, Mados and Lane. They represented movement, energy and consciousness, respectively. Hearing it now, she did distantly remember hearing about the Lady of Passages having children, who were also gods. Yet, this was Sunjath'la faith... for whatever that was worth. One was a daughter, the other was a son, but they were twins and she couldn't tell the difference. The whispers weren't even sure where these gods were worshipped aside from the secret alter in a home the occasional Sunjath'la zealot. As for the rest... It was completely beyond her.     "The Keeper of Jun'athel, B'Belka'Tevel... Is no longer within the Wild Dark. She cannot help you here. Her battle continues with the Whispering Witch. You must look for another way. This Passage, or what remains of it, still belongs to its Keeper. "     [Stella: Experience Points Traded - 2,142exp]   [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Failure] 
    "You may beseech an Emissary, if you can afford the cost of transport for such an audience. An Emissary does not exist to oversee any one single Passage. Thus, these costs can quickly amount to significant sums. If you believe you have been wrongfully displaced by force, you can make your appeal before them. If you cannot afford this and you feel strongly of how you were wronged, you may appeal to a Justice to hear you. Though, you should be aware, wasting a Justice's time will be met with swift punishment. If deemed valid, the Justice will bring you before the Emissary to be heard. There are not many Emissaries, and their work often oversee's many Worlds and duties to the Conclave. Waiting times to be seen can be.... exceptional. As a Magister of the Conclave yourself, perhaps you might be able to mitigate this to some degree, but matters of the Conclave are not my concern."      [Stella: Experience Points Traded - 1,725exp] 
    "Fragments are a store of wealth. An object created from the foundational substance of matter and energy which has been disassembled into its most base elements. This is the currency created by Ashurbanipal's Kindler to pay for travel throughout the Passages. It has been adopted by the Lady of Passages in turn. Thus it is a universal currency which allows all beings safe travel through reality. It is the 'energy' and 'fuel' allowing for movement throughout all Worlds. Thus, it is treated as a currency almost universally beyond the First World. Many beings possess Fragments, it can be traded and sold just as gold might. Certain beings such as the Teller, Kindlers, some Justices, Emissaries, Primarchs or the Mados itself are more than willing to trade nearly anything. From both the intangible and tangible for Fragments. It can even simply be bought with gold and silver. It merely depends on who, or what, you're speaking with. The memories of your experiences you are trading to me now are worth Fragments. Anything can be sold, it is simply a question of finding the right buyer."      [Stella: Experience Points Traded - 1,309exp] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 3/6 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮟  Spite : 1 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
 ⮯  Corrupted Fate  (Ra'Dolfaal)  
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (204,313xp)   (⮸ +250),   (⮯ -5,176 Exp Cost)  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※ LEARNING  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+4) 
※ INSIGHT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ SOVEREIGNTY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ NOBILITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ DISCOVERY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※ TRAVEL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ VEIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ EVIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURSE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ MEMORY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WORLDS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FAITH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ ANCESTORS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ORIGIN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ DIVINITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LEGENDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ PAST-LIFE  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※REINCARNATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+3) 
 

     
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  
  You may not be here to teach me, but every word helps further prepare me for Kathe.   It was a delicate balancing act. Each time he felt like he was finally getting his feet under him, the ground seemingly gave way. Instead of me vs. you, it was us vs. them. A pyramid scheme of cosmic proportions. As their magic was not wholly theirs, neither would his magic be solely his domain. And this didn't even begin to cover what they demanded upon their arrival: Mana. Apparently this resource was precious enough as to not even be considered a bargaining chip for a serious offer. The Hexe-Cross was certainly not the person to entertain further questions.

 "You are correct of course, though I am here to learn all the same. Each passing moment finds me that much better prepared for the life ahead, though that is not your burden to bear."  Miryks let the Witch's words fill the air as he considered them. Her terms surprised him in its directness, a concrete offering that he could tie back to what the Kindler had begun to teach him about his reforging. Then the Kindler's perspective, who had just a moment ago  cautioned him, almost

 "Hexe-Cross Valdis Erthe'Anon, I will not overreach by trying to extract further concessions from you, despite the strength the Kindler suggests I have in my current position. Such greed has a way of coming back around should we find ourselves in a mirrored position in our future. If nothing else, your words with Grand Savant Vanici Viacarri Vantil have reinforced compromise is preferable to conflict, once a common goal can be identified. I am agreeable to your terms..  However ,"  Miryks let the added word slip into the air, almost as if it were pulled along by the previous sentence.  "Even here and now, I am less of myself than I was. The path that led me here demanded many things, one of which nags at me still, muddying my thoughts and thickening my tongue. I ask that you remove that thorn from my paw, as I am currently without the means to do so."  It was a small thing, in the scheme of what he'd been through, but the lack was a constant buzzing in the back of his mind. Willpower, common sense, awareness, intuition. What he had prized throughout his life was now stunted, and to be made whole would be a relief, as his mind turned back to his Patron Apparent.

 She who spoke of Endings . Miryks had intentionally refrained from that title, instead ceding the Patron's name to what the Hexe-Cross had used. But the Kindler had identified it as the most appropriate.   I wonder if this isn't balancing the scales of a previous arrangement.   There was likely a different relationship between her and the Hexe-Cross than the Magister. Perhaps even to do with the events that led to the Hexe-Cross's betrayal, or her more recent attachment to the House of Anon'ri'telba. Certainly  something  that provided value to the Hexe-Cross beyond his current perspective, but he was grasping at straws again. Trying to form a complete picture out of a few fleeting images wreathed in shadow. Whatever the tip of the iceberg he saw, the watery depths contained far more than he could imagine. It was a struggle to contain his curious and interrogative nature in check; at least he was    hopefully    safe within his own thoughts. A shiver ran down his fiery tendrils, knowing his Patron would soon become both benefactor and voyeur.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Diplomacy  - (1d20+20)[ 25 ]  Getting Wisdom damage healed
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+18)[ 23 ]  The Hexe-Cross's desperation
  Sense Doom  - (1d20+36)[ 56 ]  She who Spoke of Endings
 
Mornings
      
It was hard to judge the Hexe's implied 'desperation' based on what little he knew. Perhaps it was that his existence would prove to be an opportunity, or a threat, which she could not simply turn a blind-eye to. Certainly it must have made things more difficult as a Witch who was despised by other Witches, but it seemed like she was getting along just fine as is. Perhaps it was a bit of both, and more. She had mentioned that the Patron would see that their interests would align. Thus, he could infer that there was some need for the aligning of these said 'interests'; whatever they might be. Regardless how an ageless being of another reality might define such a thing, that was less important than the fact that the need for such a thing had been communicated and framed as a necessity. Somehow, if these things did not happen, it could suggest some manner of future conflict. As formless and amorphous as such an idea might be. Be it a conflict of factions, or consciousness, it didn't matter. The only thing which did matter was that the Hexe sought some manner of assurances, and this is what form that sentiment had taken. It was a masterful play which he couldn't rightly refuse, the benefits far out-weighed any sleight but secured whatever guarantees she sought to deconflict her unknowable designs. Or at least, so he assumed.  [Miryks: Sense Motive - Partial] 

This mysterious Patron evidently was Kathy in nature, enough so that the Magister did not have any qualms with such a proposal. Yet, this being clearly held some relation with the Hexe-Cross, enough that the Hexe felt comfortable enough to leverage her knowledge of this enigmatic being's character and intentions as an assurance for herself. It felt as if this were some gold-standard by which the Hexe felt she had come to some degree of certainty that their business would not inevitably result in conflict. Miryks could certainly feel the multi-faceted nature of it. A being who spanned many faces of reality. It was not a goodly thing, but neither was it a mindless malevolent force. It held its own designs and those who were graced by its power were bent by its machinations for some greater purpose. It served itself, and favored those who served it while spurning those which did not. Whatever its true purpose, it certainly did not mean well for other planes which spanned the universe. This would likely be a common theme among the Witches of the Second World.  [Miryks: Sense Motive - Success] 

The flame took a moment to consider Miryks' words.   "Hm... Very well. I will remove this 'thorn'. In exchange, you will be born of a younger age. Beginning at a third, any subsequent years you may purchase at the Kindler's cost, but this price will be paid to me... You'll grow into it."   The Kindler raised a brow.     "Hmph. She's crafty. While the cost might be fair if they are mine, she will take some minor, insignificant profit. Perhaps to recoup some of her investment. Primarily she means to slow you. She is aware your mind cannot be passed to an infant body. You would be five years old. Ten, if you paid every cost. Your mind would not have developed enough yet to accept your consciousness. You would quite literally need to 'grow' into your own mind. After a number of years you would reach your full cognitive potential, but it would obviously take some time. Perhaps you've just revealed a weakness? If she means to slow you, or it is a possible alternative, limiting what you can preserve from this life might also be an acceptable solution... or at least diminish your immediate  impact. It's difficult to know what is her intent... It remains to be seen if she is even a friend or foe."    
  "Oh, I'm sure your Kindler is talking your ear off. 'Advising' you against it, but pay it no mind. I mean you no harm by it, but your many gifts will only serve as an anchor least you've the time taken to refine them and learn early. The Kindler would normally craft you a body approaching adulthood, but the magical training of children in Kathe begins at the age of five. Sometimes a year or so earlier. Do you mean to be the greatest mentally incompetent Witch in history? Leaning upon what memories the Kindler fabricates for you and the genius intellect recalling memories built around a web of lies will not avail you. You will drown yourself in a mind too vast and born of two-lifetimes. Shortcuts? Accelerated years? You will be a worm next to a true Witch. A pretender in your own skin. If you mean to make full use of your potential, you must live your life. Every moment. From the earliest memories as your consciousness begins to form, til your last."       "Hmm... That is not a lie, but I cannot know the implications of a Transfigured Witch's birth in that realm. No other flame has been born into Kathe in this manner who had not already such a Witch prior..."      [Miryks: Diplomacy - Success] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
   ⮙ Fragments:    80,000   
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (11,620xp)     (⮸ +150xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 28% (28/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ TRUTH ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)   (+2)  
※ DREAMS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 29% (29/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 29% (29/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 24% (24/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 25% (25/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 24% (24/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BLACK  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 27% (27/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 25% (25/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 25% (25/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  
 "While she has not taken sides, the Kindler has indeed been on mine. Her voice does not malign your offer, as her words seek to teach and not direct."    Just because you do not desire to provide an education here, does not mean there aren't others who have risen to the occasion.    "In any case, starting this new life at the time where my schooling would begin in earnest bears closer examination."  He doubted very much the risk of becoming "the greatest mentally incompetent Witch in history" if the Kindler had indeed fashioned him an adult body and approximated the memories and training of a life lived. The Magister had already promised the means, and the proper education, for him to realize his true power. His life, be it lived or implanted, seemed to be an after thought under the weight of that promise.

In truth, Miryks had not yet given thought to exactly how his new life would be formed. On some level, he had assumed he would be born naturally, albeit with the provided blessings, gifts and boons. That he would be born no younger than five, and possibly fully grown, was a surprise to him. He wondered if the magic and rite also provided the relevant memories of his upbringing to any who would have knowledge of him. Such a widespread power was beyond his ability to comprehend, and would require a frighting level of omniscience, if not omnipotence, to enact.   Or at least far enough above my meager understanding as to be indistinguishable from it.  
 "If I had not asked for this additional consideration, a comparatively small token, would you not have considered the deal struck and departed as Grand Savant Vanici Viacarri Vantil has done? And even now, the Kindler's words seek to counsel without judgement. She freely admits her knowledge only extends so far. I would be the first flame born into Kathe without having previously been a witch. I meant what I said, the offer bears further consideration." 

Not for the first time, Miryks wondered what The Magister's opinion would be. Their business concluded, it was understandable for her to have departed. Once it was clear his life would benefit Kathe, everything else seemed just a detail beneath her notice. He wondered if a delay in his life of several years or even a decade also was so meaningless to her. Also possible was the Hexe-Cross taking advantage of being the last one remaining, and playing looser with the complete truth than she would have in front of The Magister.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
   Diplomacy  - (1d20+20)[ 31 ]  Considering the offer
   Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 35 ]  The Hexe-Cross wanting to delay my coming into my powers
   Sense Doom  - (1d20+36)[ 46 ]  Accepting artificial years vs. living them out
 
Mornings
      
The flame took a few moments to consider its predicament. As much as he tried to, he encountered the same impasse as the Kindler. He needed something  more,  something to further contextualize the Hexe's words. The best lies were often found in misspoken truths. It came as something as a revelation to Miryks, like some blinding flash of the obvious. Simply playing out the hypotheticals in his mind, roleplaying the whole of it in some mental dreamscape within the formlessness of his own thoughts.  He was reborn. Filled with only the emptiness of a life extinguished. A flood of memories written in an unsure, unsteady hand, narrating the supposed years he'd lived within some universe, some World he could not even begin to comprehend. It would be akin to watching an elk twitch and struggle like the first-steps of a newborn calf. His form would not beget his own mind. The test of life might be open-book, but he would need to clumsily fumble through its pages with each passing moment. Would he even pass the test? The test to feign the conscious 'soul' which had lived those fake years. Would he pass their test? To become the Witch. The version of himself penned upon those pages and which lived within the minds of family and strangers? He didn't know. What if he failed? What if his unnatural, unprecedented origins were revealed? What if the sins and burdens of the life lost were unearthed? If his mortal mind's birth were revealed? Even if he could not recall much of it, at best, he would be mentally impaired by the constant strain of referencing a lifetime of choices and words which were not his. Living under the shadow of an echo of a soul who was not him. The secrets and feelings, the heart of an individual who had grown and lived in his place, until the day, the moment her existence was no longer needed. What weight might that carry? He couldn't know. No one did, because it had never been done before. There would be no Kindler to feed him a constant stream of council in the next life. 

Perhaps there was more to consider than merely education. He now possessed extra-sensory abilities which verged on near-omniscience in their reach, regardless if he was even capable of understanding such things. Yet, it still did not avail him. He stumbled blindly though the rattling cage of ignorance and fragile mortal values. Maybe it didn't matter why, or if the Hexe meant to slow him at all... Strangely, the true problem might have been the challenge presented in his entire circumstance itself.   "Depart? ...Perhaps. Perhaps not?"   Those words seem to hang there suggestively. Hinting at an uncertainty that was tantalizing and frustrating. He couldn't be certain, but her words suggested that there may have been an alternate answer. The one which she stayed, for some reason or another. It may have been that the Hexe had some other business, or it could be that her first priority was her first offer before anything else. Regardless, it did not actually matter. If she had departed and left him to his own devices, so what? She was not  gaining  anything from this exchange, other than deconflicting their own future pursuits. At least as far as he knew from how things had gone thus far,  He was not creating any significant return for this investment that he could see, she was merely paying to prevent him from becoming a problem.   "...Then consider it. This is my offer."   The bells rang again, followed by a short silver flash. Then another.     "I have received two new blessing. One for the Patron. Another regressing your age."      [Miryks: Sense Motive - Partial]   [Miryks: Sense Motive - Partial]   [Miryks: Diplomacy - Partial] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
   ⮙ Fragments:    80,000   
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (11,620xp)     (⮸ +150xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 29% (29/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ TRUTH ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DREAMS  ▰▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 30% (30/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▰▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 30% (30/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 25% (25/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 26% (26/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 25% (25/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 24% (24/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 24% (24/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BLACK  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 28% (28/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 25% (25/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 25% (25/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

So much uncertainty. So much worry. Despite being thrown into a world more advanced than his wildest dreams dared to grasp, he was forging a path even they had not foreseen. Miryks was a butterfly, desperately flapping his wings to control the storm they would create. In the end, regardless of the Kindler's assistance, the choice fell to him. As did the consequences.

It was an old wish, echoed by millions. Go back in time with your present knowledge, and relive the decisions that most haunt you. Turn the moments of your darkest fears into your greatest triumphs. The confidence buried within that wish was intoxicating. Life would always change for the better, trading bitter regret for sweet victory. But what of the consciousness that stumbled over those decisions? The being that walked the path to become who you are today, failures and all. Would your future self so easily rend that soul from existence to seize control at a pivotal moment? What if here, and now, was the moment his future decided to drop in and subsume his existence? The thought filled him with a cold dread, but hadn't he fantasized about doing the very same?

A pang tore at the flame's heart from a memory long forgotten. The moment had cut him so deep he was surprised to learn he had forgotten the scar. There was a girl, once. The promise of love, of a family. But the price had been too steep for him, she had asked too much. In the scales of his soul, her love had not been worth the sacrifice of his art. It was all he had growing up, a treasure no one could spirit away. He hadn't trusted her, or himself for that matter, enough to lay down his brush. Miryks would be hard pressed to say he had made the correct decision, after living through so many decades of blood and bile. Love had never come knocking at his door again. For a moment, Miryks considered this wish: implanting his mind into a youthful body to take her hand and damn the brush.   It wouldn't work.  

The words stunned him, interrupting his thoughts as he allowed himself to take full stock of the man he was today, contrasted to the boy who still remembered red as the color of roses. He was the same person, yes, but different in all the ways that mattered. He was no longer the boy she had fallen in love with. Miryks could hardly even remember the lad himself. It would be a poor reflection of who he had been, a parody of the life and love that he had once known.   Would it be the same for this new life?  
 "I cannot say whether or not the Kinder's prowess would be enough to make up for my own lack of experience. If am to be the first, then I will endeavor to do it right."  Each option was as good, or bad, as the other. One relied solely on the Kindler. The other, himself and the promise The Magister left him with. The Hexe-Cross's true intentions were her own, and he would need to deal with their fallout if and when they ever came to light.

 "The Patron, Relicuum Cas'Haphel, is agreed to." 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Diplomacy  - (1d20+20)[ 26 ]  Accepting Patron
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 37 ]  The Hexe-Cross giving the Age offer to the Kindler instead of waiting for me to accept it
 
Mornings
      
  "The deal is struck."   A small flash of pale light sparked from the Kindler's rod of bells, jumping off the candelabra and throwing itself into the burning chalice. The ghostly woman sighed.     "Your haphazard haste will one day be the end of you. You need not to have accepted any terms now. Just as you did not with the Magister. Their blessings have been held by me as proxy. Only the terms of those blessings need to be negotiated for, though once they are minted and offered to me, that offer is sealed... Though, there is no limit to the amount of proposals which might be made. Do not make it a habit of jumping at the slightest provocation. Most would-be benefactors would make and mint a dozen poor offers, before a single honest deal might be proposed. If for no other purpose than just to gauge your measure. All such blessings should be held by me, for they cannot be easily removed once offered to the chalice."     The Kindler's words inadvertently answered his own ponderings. He'd wondered why the Hexe had offered the blessing to the Kindler, though when he thought about it, the same had been done with the Magister. If he understood her words, benefactors made it a point to cut a deal quickly, before terms could be renegotiated further. Once the proverbial 'product' was packaged and wrapped, there was no reassembling it. A new 'product' might be argued for which provided the same thing, but it behooved the benefactor to press their advantage and make negotiations as short and curt as possible. Just like pressing and attack, keeping the enemy on their heels offered them no time to offer a well-thought counter. It was a test of acuity just as it was a test of patience, and he'd bitten the first crumb offered without a second-thought. He took a mental note that the flickering gray flame of the Hexe had not departed.     "The deal does not appear to be a poor one, but you've set an unfavorable image of yourself. Impulsive. Easy to manipulate, even with a word of council in your ear. Remember, we do not know who is watching. Nor has the Hexe departed, which means she has other business with you. Her blessing was likely what she needed, but not what she wanted. Whatever the reason, she required you to agree to her initial terms with her choice of Patron. The rest is merely convenience. As that was. perhaps, her only requirement in being here, you've lost a powerful card to play in extorting more favorable terms. You've both revealed a weakness and relinquished her own. Not an ideal position. Now, she can afford to be much more ruthless in how she handles you... Know, that it benefits her, or any benefactor, to make the benefits provided within each blessing as small as possible and avoid offering more than one thing at any time. Many small bites, to devour the whole. I do not believe you will receive any fair deals without extensive negotiations now, with any benefactor. Do not make this mistake again. With blood in the water who knows what else might be drawn to the bargaining table. Now that the cautiousness held by threat of my intervention has been lessened by your display, you will appear a more lucrative target. I advise you to begin with a new base-line of rejecting any and all future offers, regardless of what it is. If they care enough the blessing will still be offered to me for holding, where we can evaluate it further at a later time."      [Miryks: Sense Motive - Success]   [Miryks: Diplomacy - Success] 
    "If you are ready, we will move onto transcribing your page and preserving what we can of your previous life. You may receive offers and utilize blessings at any time, both during this process or any other. Keep that in mind as we proceed. If you run short of resources, we may need to revisit negotiations."    
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
   CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Memory:  4  
   ⮙ Fragments:    80,000   
  ※Oneiroclast Experience:  50 
 MIRYKS'S EXPERIENCE (11,770xp)     (⮸ +150xp)  
  MIRYKS'S INFLUENCES  
※ FLAME ▰▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 30% (30/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ TRUTH ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 24% (24/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DREAMS  ▰▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 31% (31/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ NIGHTMARES  ▰▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 31% (31/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BEASTS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※CELEBRATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ RITUAL  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 26% (26/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ DEATH  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 27% (27/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ OTHERWORLD  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 26% (26/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ SPIRITS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 25% (25/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ REALITY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 25% (25/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ BLACK  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※OMENS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 0% (0/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 29% (29/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ FORBIDDEN  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※DOOM ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 26% (26/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ MAGIC  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 26% (26/100 EXP)   (+1)  
※ ONEIROCLAST  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 24% (24/100 EXP)   (+1)  
 

      
forg99rules
 
 Stella took a moment to let the information sink in before sorting through it all while trying to devise a way out of the current situation. The mention that the Keeper was still battling Adessa was somewhat nice to know, if both of them were still busy then she could possibly get away with doing some things. The issue of Fragments though was the biggest problem, Stella knew that she did not have any fragments and really only had the memories of her experiences that she was currently trading to be able to try and get some. Stella's mind almost missed an important bit of information, A Teller could be used for both travel and possibly to trade for some of these fragments. Looking up to Ulbeelta she figured it was worth a shot to see if he would be able to put her into contact with a Teller,   "I thank you for all this useful information. I am curious now about something, Could you either put me into contact with a Teller or possibly bring a Teller here for me to speak to and possibly trade with for these Fragments? Since they are one of the typical ways that my kind would travel I believe that a Teller would be my best bet to leave this passage. I am also curious, do you know if there is a circle of black in this passage that I could access?"   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 19 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 31 ]  - Trying to think how I could use a circle of black to travel
 
Mornings
     
The great wolf's face seemed to twist into a vicious sneer from across the clutch of stars when she mentioned the Circle of Black.     "A Black Circle... In L'Chandal? I'll pretend you did not utter such disgusting words. I would take great pleasure in killing any Witch foolish enough to consort with such a vile thing."     Perhaps it had simply been too long since she had once been Alicia, but she did not need any whispers to remind her of those things which she already knew. The things she already learned. There were, according to what she recalled, only three Circles of Black currently in existence. They were rare and sacred places to Vet'Cnros, secret places hidden from everything. This is where new Veils were woven. Where the powers of the very same Forbidden Knowledge which nearly destroyed her long ago could be wielded. The place new magics were born. Unfortunately, the nature of Circles was of course, inherently evil, and involved long and arduous rituals to find the perfect child to murder which might appease the Pale Lady. A forgotten deity no longer worshipped by Vet'Cnros. A Circle naturally shifted a large space of reality towards imbalance, as it become aligned with the Black. Of course, this knowledge was known almost exclusively only to herself. For all intents and purposes, there were no other Veil Witches which could even create a Circle of Black... None, save for herself. After her departure from Zhenu'Magath and her trials in the L'Lotha, she had recovered the Potential which enlightened her to this forsaken knowledge long ago. It was her single largest secret she carried. For if others knew, she would become a threat to reality itself. Both feared and adored by her own people. Tirelessly hunted by all who opposed the Black. The resurgence of dead-magics long gone from the Garden which could threaten the very balance within the Three Worlds. It was certainly best that she never mentioned having come across such a gift to anyone she did not trust absolutely. This was doubly so in regard to the creature known as Ulbeelta, who existed solely for the purpose of eliminating those things which threatened the natural order, cosmic balance, the Laws and Authority of the universe... All such things were a mere nuisance to a Veil Witch. They were agents of chaos and darkness. Nothing capitalized this more than the holy ground in which they crafted their most sinister of spells.  The Domain of Black.   [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Success] 
    "While it is 'physically' possible for a Teller to come to this place.... It will not happen. The Dark Teller, the Emissary along with most of L'Chandal are above... In the Crucible Hall. Dealing with the aftermath of your mentor's attack, and looking for someone to blame. I could send you up for a cost... But I would take care revealing your identity, though I'm sure you will inevitably be discovered. Perhaps you might resolve your business before then."      [Stella: Experience Points Traded - 2,079exp] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 3/6 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮟  Spite : 1 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
 ⮯  Corrupted Fate  (Ra'Dolfaal)  
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (204,563xp)   (⮸ +250),   (⮯ -5,176 Exp Cost)  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※ LEARNING  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ INSIGHT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SOVEREIGNTY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ NOBILITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DISCOVERY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ VEIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ EVIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURSE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ MEMORY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WORLDS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FAITH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ ANCESTORS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ORIGIN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DIVINITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 9% (9/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LEGENDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ PAST-LIFE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※REINCARNATION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+2) 
 

     
flat_footed
      
 
    
 
  

His focus had wavered, just for an instant, and the Kindler was ready with a fresh reprimand. Miryks had allowed his concentration to fall onto the regression and he had accepted the Patron prematurely as a result. Now things were going to be that much harder.

 "An offer could always be improved, I suppose you are correct, Kindler. I'll consider my words to better match my intention behind them."  Not accepting the Magister's offer had been as much a happy accident as it was a tactful decision. Once her offer had been tendered to the Kindler, she had departed. The Hexe-Cross was already demanding his attention, and so it had been far easier to accept things as they were and move on without a word of agreement from himself. It seemed as if his subconscious was better at this than he was when he tried. He was rapidly finding a way to lose with the winning hand, and he had better get out of his own thrice-cursed way.

In truth, it wasn't the Hexe-Cross that had distracted him, but his own thoughts. The more he considered forcing his mind into another's life, the less he liked it. Miryks couldn't have cared less if it was someone else's dilemma, or was an unobtainable exercise of his own invention, but this was a cold truth he was facing up to. The thought of taking over a child's life was distasteful, eclipsing the loss of his own masculinity to better adhere to the power structure of the witches. "But yes, let us continue." 

He would have to be careful now, to the point of obstinance if the Kindler was to be believed. He was again reminded her influence was arguably worth more than his own instinct. Miryks's own understanding couldn't hold a candle to hers, uncharted territory notwithstanding. At least her guesses and assumptions were based on experience, while his own were little more than blind shots in the dark.   And even that may be giving me more credit than I'm due..  
 "Though I am curious. How does assuming this new life start? Is the life lived to a point where our work comes to fruition and I take over, or are the years merely simulated and implanted into a shell?"  There, the thought was stated plainly now. Better to worry himself over a certainty than to fret over a possibility. The Gods knew he could ill afford to lose his concentration again once the Kinder began her work in earnest.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
  Diplomacy  - (1d20+20)[ 24 ]  Speaking with the Kindler
  Sense Motive  - (1d20+17)[ 33 ]  The Hexe-Cross's reactions
  Perception  - (1d20+19)[ 33 ]  Keeping an eye on the courtyard
 
forg99rules
 
 Stella silently cursed at herself at her blunder, of course Ulbeelta wouldn't like Circles of Black him being about Law and Authority of universe. Though now she did wonder what other dead-magics could she possibly learn, if she was able to learn one why not another. As she pondered this possibility, she kept listening to Ulbeelta. Bringing a Teller here would be the best option of course, but it sounded as if the Teller might be busy helping to fix what Adessa had destroyed. Stella was not certain who might be able to help her but without very many options she figured it would be best to just make her way to whatever this Crucible Hall was. Her mind turned that name over trying to find memories of what the Crucible Hall.   "If the Teller can't come here then it definitely sounds like I need to go the Crucible Hall... What is the Crucible Hall exactly? Though, if the Teller is assisting with fixing everything, it might be best to see my options once I arrive. Is there any assistance that you could provide to keep my Identity Hidden? If not that if fine and I would pay the cost for you to go ahead and send me up. If you are able to then please let me know what it would cost and I can see if I would be able to afford the price."   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 20 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 28 ]  - Trying to think of any other Dead-Magics that I could learn or remember
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 29 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 23 ]  - Information on the Crucible Hall
 
Mornings
     
Stella took a moment to consider other abandoned schools of magic. There were in fact...  many.  As time marched and the culture of the Second World changed, many practices died out as various traditions became unfashionable. Much in the same way that modern playwriters did not fumble through antiquated scripts, or poets often avoided archaic verses, much was the same in terms of magic. Magical systems were akin to languages, and while new 'words' might be born from old ones, those older words were often left decrepit and forgotten. This was capitalized when looking at Sunjath'lan casting traditions -  of which, there were three.  Meanwhile the Ros'wussrun refined easily a dozen or more. As Vet'Cnros, she herself was caught between the three traditions of her own kin, each secreting away their own practices from each other. Yet, all magic disciplines were drawn from, what were referred to as 'Casting Spheres'. These groups of arcane schools were categorized by their origins. Of which, there were three known. In the case of modern Vet'Cnros casting, each principle was drawn from either the Sunjath'la Sphere or the Ros'wussrun Sphere. In the case of Veils, this was from the Sunjath'la Sphere. Severance was from the Ros'wussrun Sphere. These were the two general traditions which she knew, however, there was many lost Vet'Cnros traditions which hailed from the Third Sphere, known as 'The Beyond'. Of course Stella was not sure exactly what these traditions were, as they predated her race. Yet, she knew they most certainly were a thing, though such pursuits remained as fringe-practice, or was outright heretical depending on who might overhear. To those knowledgeable of such things, speaking of such practices was incredibly rude, while to the uninitiated, responses could vary. Most usually somewhere between annoyance, curiosity or outright disgust. Witches who observed modern traditionalist values, such as certain Sunjath'la found such talk beyond offensive. These were knowings best pursued in private with likeminded students of the occult.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Success] 

To a significant degree, she could recall that it had been herself, in her life before rebirth who had contributed greatly to L'Chandal. The Otherworld of the Crucible had, for the most part, always existed. Yet, it had been her Veil which had constructed the arcane workings which allowed the denizens who reigned behind the curtain of reality to pull their strings of various realities. Namely, World Veils, fabricating life endlessly to feed the engine which fueled the Lesser Worlds. As the Black Magister, she was the master of one of the three Order Factions of the Lesser Conclave, known as the Black Conclave. Under her guidance, her Order allowed L'Chandal to function in its modern manner, efficiently allowing the generation of energy which could be harvested and spent to sustain the Lesser Worlds of the Real. It had been a grand gift to the House of Black which had solidified their Order's favor with the House. In a way, this place had once been her home lifetimes ago... It was a strange feeling now as distant faded memories played across the back of her mind. The Crucible Hall had been a significantly large demi-plane she had assembled beneath the first-few existential phases of reality. It was where most of the internal workings of the Crucible were managed. An arcane 'engine room' of sorts, if the Otherworld were a proverbial ship. It was not a place which anyone was meant to go to, but it had been a place which she and her Magisters had most frequented. Like a tree-house squirreled away in some hole beneath existence. Due to its sensitive nature, it was also somewhat of a fortress, at least in regard to resisting instability and planar shattering. While their creations within the Otherworld had been gifted away long ago, it was not unheard of for Magisters of the Black Order to flee to that familiar haven. Remembering this now, hearing that it had now been crowded with.... whatever had escaped there, filled her with a distasteful and conflicted feeling. It had been long since she had been to that secret place. Perhaps she had left something for herself there before her revival should she ever return.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Success] 

The great star-wolf shifted uncomfortably. It was the first time Stella had seen such an awkward gesture from the cosmic being.     "No. Not  fixing.  That much you misunderstand. This damage could not have been wrought without the Dark Teller's meddling to begin with. Adessa has been gifted greater power than any one mortal should ever possess. The Mados has broken the balance with boons beyond sense or reason. Those who gather mean to voice their complaints. Seek restitution. Or mend this damage, but things are not proceeding well. I do not possess the means to disguise an aspect's life-essence, nor the means to alter the rules which govern an aspect. You remain the prime-aspect of yourself, though for those who had never met you, it is likely you would simply pass unnoticed. Merely the aspect of yet another Magister... It might be for the best. The Black Conclave has also been called upon to settle this matter. Many seek to blame them, or yourself. Perhaps both. It is a great crisis for all mortal life should L'Chandal remain broken, for there can exist no mortal life without it. Without the Crucible, the Lesser Worlds will inevitably perish."       [Stella: Experience Points Traded - 2,088exp] 
    "No one knows the Halls better than you. For it was your hand which once fashioned it. The Crucible Hall is a plane tucked between the greater and lesser existential phases, whose purpose was solely to create an unbreakable bastion from which L'Chandal could be controlled and monitored. All of the inner workings of the Crucible remain there. There are untold secrets to this plane known to none save for the Black Conclave who maintained the secret of its existence until now. This is almost all that is known of this planar space... If you wish to depart. I will claim ten-thousand of your experiences in exchange."        [Stella: Experience Points Traded - 1,188exp] 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 3/6 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮟  Spite : 1 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
 ⮯  Corrupted Fate  (Ra'Dolfaal)  
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (201,587xp)   (⮸ +300),   (⮯ -3,276 Exp Cost)  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※ LEARNING  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ INSIGHT ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SOVEREIGNTY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ NOBILITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DISCOVERY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ VEIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ EVIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CURSE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ MEMORY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WORLDS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FAITH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ ANCESTORS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ORIGIN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LEGENDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ PAST-LIFE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※ REINCARNATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+4) 
 

       
forg99rules
 
 As memories of Stella's previous life rose to the surface, she tried to concentrate on how the Crucible would control the lesser worlds as well she rolled around what she could remember regarding the traditions she could remember. Her hand in creating the Crucible could potentially be a huge boon, but she would have to try and remember more regarding the place. Stella mulled over the memories while listening to Ulbeelta, and she could only nod as the being spoke about Adessa's power. Stella knew Adessa was powerful, and considering the current circumstances, she couldn't help but agree that maybe the Balance had been a bit broken, yet she couldn't bring herself to care about the imbalance.   "Well, at least the Teller won't be against me, hopefully... The memories of the Crucible are slowly returning to me, and I hope I remember more once I get there. Your assistance has been most welcome and likely has changed things for the better. I accept the cost to send me to the Crucible and believe that I am ready to depart."   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 15 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 22 ]  - Trying to remember what I can about Severance, like what sorta effects it had.
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 13 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 22 ]  - Curious as to what other Magisters were in the Black Order and what I know of them.
Know Arcana: (1d20+10)[26] - Trying to remember how the Crucible controlled the lessers (Rolled OOC)
Spellcraft - (1d20+10)[25] - Trying to remember how the Crucible controlled the lessers (Rolled OOC)
Perception:  (1d20+10)[ 23 ]  - Perception for when i get to the Crucible to see who/what i can see
 
Mornings
    
  
 Then, just as that thought came and ended in her mind, as if the world were waiting for that very sentiment, she had returned. Returned to the physical. The manifest. The material expression of reality which was most familiar. Like an ancient childhood memory, the years she had drifted amid the white featureless spaces were over and gone, as fleeting as a dream she struggled to remember. Even still, this mortal body had changed. Reaching the natural end of its life, dying and being reborn amid the boundless essence of her Paramortal soul. Her skin was as white and colorless as a cold unburnished cut of marble. An uncomfortable and unnatural pale which was unfit for any statue or corpse. An ethereal thing, a ghost haunting the physical world. Her silver hair had grown unreasonably long, brushing the back of her knees.

Ulbeelta’s words echoed in her mind on the burdens of Witches who traveled by means other than those honored by those Cosmic Laws. Perhaps this was different, and the length of her journey was simply longer than a mortal could even endure. A distance so far, a destination so distant, it would require many mortal lifetimes to ever reach. An Aspect was not much different, but perhaps it was closer to imagine it was closer to a Veil then simply only a body. In that same vein, just as a Veil could become both things, it would persist as long as the Veil Witch possessed the means to suffuse it with the energy to allow it to persist beyond its natural life, and she was Vet’Cnros. Such efforts ran in her blood. Even if she did not understand how to do such things, some behavior was simply natural. Like an animal swimming, or a Veil Witch rupturing a hole through reality, some actions did not require conscious thought. 
   

As life touched her magically animated flesh and air filled her lungs, awareness slowly begun to swell back into her thought-deprived head. The skittering of whispers slowly tickling the back of her neck as consciousness finally found the mantle of her physical vessel.

The nameless flow of some unnamed memory she might have called familiar curled beneath her skin, followed by the burning heat of some esoteric flow of energy which quieted the chattering voices. She could feel it…  everything.  Like a recovered limb which stretched out in all directions. The distant pulse of life beyond her field of view. She could feel them. An acute sense of awareness revealing to her the location of all those who had come to this place. Though it was fleeting, she could remember this place… Her eyes opened to look upon the distant pillars rising up to greet her again. The many softly rising steps of the mirror-polished dark marbled stairs which guided the path stretched out before her filled her heart with some distant warmth. The world plastered out before her was a sweeping blotched mixture of deep blues, greens and a myriad of colors painted out across a fractured sky, split by a broken stitch of pale light. This land was a floating rocky platform of sculpted marble, and upon its horizon was the entrance to a great manor without windows or doors. A house which yawned open with a mouth of churning azure fire. A small grin seemed to slowly carve its way onto her face, and she wasn’t sure why. A whirl of indistinguishable blotted memories turned over like unfocused blurs in the back of her mind.

 At last, she was home. 
 

With each step forward, some small glint came to life beneath the featureless dark stones. Like a night sky re-discovering its own fire, the black marble bricks of the path sparkled like a dark mirror studded with stars. The ground weltered with a clutch of starlight, billions of speckled lights turned greater and wider circles beneath her feet as she followed the long pathway forward. The dance grew into a storm as the air too begun to fill with a host of eerie speckled lights. They were drawn in, as if pulled or ushered from some fargone place. With the mere raising of her hand, an invisible wave turned beneath the Real, releasing a silent quake across reality that made this world shudder. It was as if the Passage itself quivered in hushed anticipation. Then, she closed her fist.

A clap of plangent crashing light. The stars became a sphere, engulfing her in a radiance as the white turned to sharp silver. As if her very soul were expunged from her Aspected form, she looked down upon herself in her true form. A mote of light coiled and found its place as a burning silver crown to circle the base of her large witchy hat. The same silvered fire burned behind her eyes and dully shined from her mouth and nose like a living vessel of the flame. The crown was pale, but identical in shape to that same wilted, horrid black relic donned by the Unsung King. There was power here. A limitless thing, but bound within this place. With a simple shrug of her shoulders, she was purged by a wash of baronial fire. The pale flames burned away the shadows, the harm, the memories of woe and suffering. Even the distant hiss of an old and cosmic hatred was cleansed amid the healing light. The internal energy within herself, the mana which had been depleted was similarly also restored and the weariness of countless centuries she had gone without rest was lifted from her shoulders, like a damp and mold-covered shroud torn away, a strange weight was lifted.

At last, it had returned to her. Kel’tah Lor.  The Indomitable Crown. 
Some compulsion controlled her as she raised her hand, beckoning reality to fold upon itself, ripping her across the plane to stand before the great manor.

With the Crown, she was invincible.
The Keeper of L’Chandal.


   (Potential) (Soul) Unsung King of the Crucible Passage   
 The Crucible Hall exists as the heart of L'Chandal. An artificial Passage separated from all others, ruled over by a supreme being with absolute authority; The Unsung King. The First Keeper of L'Chandal. 
 This Potential remains in effect while the Unsung King is within the Crucible Hall and is immediately bound to the holder's Prime-Aspect:  No foreign being within the Crucible Hall may act in combat before the Unsung King. The Unsung King cannot be destroyed within the Hall. The Unsung King is aware of the presence and exact location of visitors within the Hall for the floor she is currently on.

Each round the Unsung King may choose a number of effects, abilities or actions equal to half their HD. They may choose to negate the selected abilities. This is a special free action which may be performed during anyone's turn. Actions lost in this way are still expended and wastes any associated resources.

The Unsung King fully recovers each time they enter the Hall, recouping lost or expended resources, spells, abilities, hit-points, ending all curable status effects and benefiting from 8-hours of rest. The Unsung King may choose to accept damage, but is otherwise treated as being immune to hit-point and ability score damage. Additionally, the Unsung King cannot be forcefully removed from the Crucible Hall by mundane or magical means. If the Unsung King must be removed from the game within the Crucible Hall, the current Cycle will reset to a World Line where the Unsung King may rejoin the game, then resume play.

This ability does not function outside of the Crucible Hall and does not fully effect divine beings. This Potential may be partially, or fully negated if this Passage or L'Chandal are destroyed.  
 
 Spoiler: OOC - Lost Actions 
All previous actions including last round's knowledge checks were interrupted due to the displacement.
 

 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 6/6[/COLOR] ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮙  Spite : 0 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
 ⮙  Fate - Mended  (Ra'Dolfaal)  
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (201,587xp)   (⮸ +0),   (⮯ -3,276 Exp Cost)  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※ LEARNING  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (15/100 EXP)
※ INSIGHT ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)
※ SOVEREIGNTY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ NOBILITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ DISCOVERY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)
※ TRAVEL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)
※ VEIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ EVIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ CURSE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)
※ MEMORY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)
※ WORLDS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FAITH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)
※DREAMS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ ANCESTORS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)
※ ORIGIN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LEGENDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ PAST-LIFE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)
※ REINCARNATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)
 

     
forg99rules
 
 Stella breathed a sigh of relief as she looked up at the manor before her; a feeling of giddiness filled her at having gained another portion of her former power. Walking towards the churning fire, Stella wondered how exactly to enter the manor and how many people had already made their way here. Looking around at her surroundings, she also thought about the action she had just taken, trying to make sense of how she had just folded reality to travel the distance to be in front of the manor.   "Well, coming here provided something nice after all. Now, I need to figure out what to do next... Teller could be helpful, though I don't want to deal with all the people that might be around it. Could wander about and see where my legs take me; I might find something interesting."   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 29 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 15 ]  - on how to properly enter the manor
Perception: Taking 10 for a  20  to get a number/direction for who all is on my level of the manor
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 23 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 15 ]  - on how I folded space to move
Spellcraft:  (1d20+14)[ 23 ]  - on how I folded space to move
Perception:  (1d20+10)[ 17 ]  - just looking around to see if I spot anything interesting
 
Mornings
     
It was a strange feeling. The sense of confidence welling up in her chest was far unlike the seemingly endless confusion, fear and doubt which she'd been plagued with since she'd departed that damned forest with a cursed wound and lost her bison so long ago... She felt more,  in tune  with herself. As if those thoughts which were her own, echoed with a second detached voice inside. They spelled out a sudden sense of understanding which she could now realize was lost. It felt like something tangible and real, like remembering something after you had forgotten it.  The lights were turning on in her head. 

As Keeper of the Halls, she possessed the ability to simply snap out anything in existence, or close to it. For a brief moment, she was able to command that power and dismissed the Veil of Temporal Distance which surrounded the outer reaches of the plane. She herself had crafted a rudimentary Veil to prevent being of insignificant arcane aptitude from ever approaching the Entrance Hall. The distance would simply forever remain vast no matter how long they might run. The Veil would eventually restore itself, but she wouldn't need to concern herself with it any longer, and while she was now too weak to command that power again, it existed inside of her. It was simply that this body was still far too frail to endure the power her soul commanded. With some effort this body could be tempered and made strong enough to survive repeated demonstrations of this power, but for now it was enough to bring her to the front of her home.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Success] 

Stella examined the blue blazing portal at the foot of her manor’s entrance. It was an impressive thing, even from distance she could feel the intense aura of the spell. Kicking a broken piece of black stone upon the ground, she noted as it skid across the polished ground’s surface the rock slowed, hitting a denser region of mana before bursting into sand - vaporized. Her other-self refrained from ushering out a low whistle at the potency. Mana-fields were not uncommon, most persistent spells worth remembering had one, but typically it was an invisible and nearly imperceptible field. When a region became so dense with the personal energy from a spell that it rendered a physical phenomenon, well…. It was a sign that you were dealing with someone not to be trifled with. Not even a Hexe of Duvan could weave magic that potent. This was beyond the realms of what Zhenu’Magath could teach and was solely the domain of Magisters, or an Ur-Witch; a High Hexe which had achieved absolute mastery of the art. Of course, since this particular Veil was woven by herself, she wasn’t particularly surprised, but it was quite different seeing it in person…

An idiot or mortal magician would simply be evaporated trying to approach the portal any closer than this. The gate was incredibly easy and intuitive to utilize for a Paramortal like her, it merely required one to attune her Spell Focus to the doorway and she would pass through. At that thought, another pulse of starlight suffused her body, restoring yet another fragment of power.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Success] 

 
   (Potential) (Soul) Detect Kin   
 Like all Ur’Vet’Cnros, you are a true Witch whose immortal soul penetrates the fabrics of reality and surpasses any physical form you might hold. Like your kin, you can sense your own kind and understand them. Yet, unlike others, your eyes reveal the truth of their Prime-Aspects no matter what skin they wear, nor can your spell focus ever be broken even amid the coils of rebirth. 

You innately detect the presence of other Witches, though this is merely a feeling and does not reveal the Witch’s exact location. However, Witches who approach within 15 feet of you are immediately revealed regardless if they currently don an Aspect or other mortal form. Paramortal Souls who share your Origin cannot hide from your gaze without special measures to counter this innate ability. You understand the words of a Witch even if you do not speak her language. Additionally, you gain the Spell Focus unique skill as a class skill. If you already possess this skill or gain it from another source, you instead gain a +10 circumstance bonus to this skill. 
 


Taking a moment to feel her surroundings, Stella could mark out three beings upon this floor of the demiplane. While she couldn’t be sure just exactly, what or who they were, the creeping chill crawling into her brain affirmed that at least one among their number was indeed a Witch. It was an unusual sense which grew in her thoughts. She could simply ‘feel’ the presence of a Witch now, and that was not some magic specific to this place - she’d simply  grown.  Witches could of course do that to some degree already, but this level of.. Invasiveness. It was far from natural. A degree of power more often held only by the most distinguished of paramortal souls.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Success] 

Then she felt it.  A stirring.  An unsettling sense of alarm as one of the beacons of life in her mind begun to twist and turn towards her. Her eyes scanned the colorful ethereal view, but amid the paint-like landscape and gloom she couldn’t make out much of note other than a scattered bank of dark fog. Then she froze. A red spark flashed in the distance, like the muzzle of a rifle belching fire in her direction, it flickered then vanished. Her mind beckoned she draw her sword, but a looming sense of terror stilled her hand.  ”You…”  Not a voice. It was not words. Only but the grinding chattering of groaning teeth and guttural yelps.   ”...You!”   A curl of black smoke ripped away, thrown into the air before magically slamming down only two dozen feet away, igniting in a calamitous burst of living fire.

Four flaming eyes leered out from the smoldering roils of pitch smoke and clouds of animated fire. A great bank of clouds knit shapes in the sky, forming the slavering maw of some horrid lupine beast. Born in the visage of some twisted mockery of a wolf, the flame lit the fog in spirals of ember of darkness as the eyes of the wretched thing took their place upon the great horror’s form.

    
 Calamitous.  That was the word which came to mind to describe the great behemoth, the colossus from the sky. The mere aura of the thing radiated with the same degree of energy as her own Veil which formed the doorway to the manor. Yet, her senses sharply responded.  This thing , was a Witch. The waves of mana would have been enough to simply slay a mortal outright, merely by standing in its presence. It took all of her mettle to stop her lip from quivering and hold her ground, yet her sword-arm still refused to budge.   ”Kerym’s Lies… It is you.”  

It was an extremely vulgar Sunjath’la curse. One so vile in fact, a Witch could be put to death if she were ever to be found guilty of having uttered such words. It was a sleight to the First Witch King and an insult aimed at the City’s very founding. One might even call it  blasphemous.  The voice suddenly felt particularly familiar. The great thing seemed to notice Stella’s uncertainty,   ”...Boss?”   The wolf-like creature seemed to take notice of its own appearance,   ”Ah, I suppose you would not recognize me like this...”   The creature churned like a billowing cloud, collapsing down into a crackling pool of fog filled with snaps of red lightning. From its mists emerged a roughly humanoid beast-woman nearly seven feet in height. Her eyes were featureless pits of energy and very few humanoid qualities showed. Yet, she plucked out a handful of the cloud-stuff as if it were cotton. It quickly took the form of a Witch’s hat and she placed it upon her head.

Stella’s mind could barely comprehend the change, or the thought of actually finding a friendly face. The other ‘self’ which existed in her mind cried out in shock and recognition. A storm of muted and blurred memories stormed in her mind like icy needles skidding across the surface of her thoughts. She was unrecognizable now, yet her behavior and mannerisms were the same as the Sunjath’la she had known. There was only one person called her ‘boss’.

 It was Zavriel. 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 6/6 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮙  Spite : 0 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (201,687xp)   (⮸ +100),   (⮯ -3,276 Exp Cost)  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※ LEARNING  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ INSIGHT ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)
※ SOVEREIGNTY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ NOBILITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ DISCOVERY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※ VEIL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※ EVIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ CURSE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)
※ MEMORY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※ WORLDS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 24% (24/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FAITH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)
※DREAMS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ ANCESTORS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)
※ ORIGIN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LEGENDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ PAST-LIFE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※ REINCARNATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)
 
 
 
      
forg99rules
 
 Stella couldn't help but marvel at the sheer power she saw before her. A feeling of longing started to settle into her as she stared at the spell before her. The amount of energy radiating from it caused her to wonder exactly how powerful she had been in her prime. Standing before the doorway, Stella wondered how she could fix her current form to allow her to use this newfound power. As the pulse of starlight melded into her body, a thought came to her mind:   "I wonder if this place acts as a sort of backup for my former powers and memories or if it is just the sheer power contained here that is restoring my soul to what it once was."   Stella's mind rolled over what she had just gained; being able to detect other witches was going to help out in the future, though she was unsure what the difference was between Ur’Vet’Cnros and Vet’Cnros or even what an Origin was and what her Origin would be.

As her mind turned towards the danger approaching, Stella wondered what sort of Witch was heading towards her. As the being landed, shock held her as she tried to comprehend how such a creature could also be a Witch. As she watched and listened to the Witch, her mind took a moment to check on the movement of the other two beings she had detected, wanting to ensure they weren't heading towards her. As the transformation took place and memories flew across her mind, Stella tried to grasp what memories she could. Looking at the being before her, she couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.   "Is that you, Zavriel? I can barely recognize you in that form, even less so in the one before. I take you have been well in my absence?"   Stella's mind turned over the name of the Witch, trying to remember what she could about this Witch and their previous relationship. 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 17 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 17 ]  - Difference between Ur’Vet’Cnros and Vet’Cnros, pretty much what the Ur' means
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 24 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 27 ]  - What an Origin is and what Stellas Origin is
Perception: Taking 10, just checking on those other two beings to see if there's movement from them
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 14 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 19 ]  - For Zavriel, trying to get information on what sort of creature she is as well as what our relationship was
Sense Motive:  (1d20+10)[ 26 ]  - On Zavriel to see what motive she has
 
Mornings
     
Thinking on it further, she could  feel  the knowledge was physically present inside of her. She  knew  that the Sigil of Ur was naturally an immeasurable honor of the Sunjath’la Title-Castes. The all-consuming social ladder known as L’Kaas. This was the same bloody ladder and endlessly draining social structure which she had to endure during her brief return to Duvan. The way one introduced themselves, the endless strings of names, were all part of this system, but L’Kaas specifically was something special. For a Witch’s name was not just some sound created by a flexing tongue to identify one’s self. A Witch’s name was a series of Sigils, which formed the very spell which identified her true identity, her very essence, to the Fates themselves. L’Kaas made up the sigils of one’s whole name. In the case of her friend as the example, her name given to her by her mother was Zavriel, but her entire first name was Ur’Zavrielka, because she possessed the Sigils of Ur and Ka. Unlike some demon’s true name, the living spell which was a Witch’s name was no threat to the Witch herself, but it was a thing of power which could destroy mortal life or the unworthy should they utter it carelessly.

The problem Stella faced was that she did not understand the  context  of the information she knew. It was like random facts stitched together. Like knowing a sword was metal and silver in color, but not understanding what it was for or how to use it. The Sigil of Ur belonged to the L’Kaas Caste of Kor'Annu-Kaas. The Caste of Ancestral and Ceremonial Titles. In a way this made it the highest Caste, but it was also ceremonial, so she wasn’t sure where this functionally placed it in the real world. The one thing she was sure of was that Sunjath’la placed the greatest important on lineage, ancestry and heritage, but that wasn’t everything. Duvan was still, in its own sickening way, a meritocracy. The title ‘Ur’ denoted mastery. Someone who had become an absolute authority in one particular field of magic, and thus was even allowed to publish and create their own spells which would bear their own name. What did this mean for Sunjath’la? She had no idea. L’Kaas titles were technically exclusive to Sunjath’la, but as the most socially relevant race, their way of doing things bled over into the culture of the other Witch races.

Vet’Cnros like her suffered from their own chaotic nature, killing themselves or each other. The Three Covens of her people did not agree on anything. Those being the Cults of the Scion of Dark Seasons, the House of Black and the Mados. Largely, each cult were enemies with one another, but the conflict was ‘soft’, in that they tolerated one another most days. Even if it came to open war once again, Vet’Cnros killed each other, but they would band together without complaint if they were targeted by another race. Each distinct Coven was practically its own distinct ethnic group, with their own words, culture, values and names. As they were so different, they each had their own manner of titles or social structure different from one another. As such, the adoption of L’Kaas became very widespread for Vet’Cnros but was by no means the standard. Like herself, some Veil Witches simply took a mortal name, or deviated completely. Many Veil Witches were also solitary beings by nature and had no interest in the Three Covens or social titles and would rather name themselves ‘Yulia’ then entertain some Sunjath’lan farce.

While the more complex bits of L’Kaas were beyond what she could remember, aside from just the simple facts, she at least understood how it was used by her own people. Originally the Sigil of Ur was used by Vet’Cnros to describe a Witch who had achieved K’ulbok, ‘Ascent’. A stage of magical maturity beyond what a Witch or paramortal should be capable of reaching. For Vet’Cnros this sigil became a method to express a measure of growth which put a Witch further from her kin and closer to that of an Origin Witch. The term became so prolific that ‘Ur’ also became a descriptor which could be used to describe most objects, races and things, almost as a unit of measure to express how different and powerful something was compared to its natural form or family of things which it relates to. With such frequent use, Vet’Cnros often used the title as slang to refer to anything when expressing such a measure of superiority, coining terms such as an ‘Ur-Wand’ or an ‘Ur-Spell’. This catchall phrase to express this measure became a part of Vet’Cnros culture and also became very popular even among common Witches of other races, leading to an almost celebrity-like status for those who actually carried the popular sigil in their name.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Failure] 

While Witches who carried the Sigil were affectionately called an ‘Ur-Witch’ in casual speech, a Vet’Cnros might apply the same term to any similarly powerful Witch to express that difference; such as when comparing the Hexen to a lowborn. When comparing one's own race, the term Ur’Vet’Cnros was almost always referring to the development of K’ulbok and achieving Ascent. While the term could be used casually as well, it was extremely uncommon. Despite the potential of Witches, they were not all-powerful beings, and Ascent represented that delineating line which separated them from the greater magical forces of the Second or Third World. Even by comparison, Magisters were incomparably stronger than a Witch, and while Witches did become Magisters, the members of the Lesser Conclave primarily were not made up of paramortals. The Garden was a big place, and there were many beings who dwelt among those places which Witches still believed to be nothing more than stories; such as L’Chandal or the L’Lotha.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Success] 

This time the whispers spoke to fill the gaps which her own fragmented thoughts could not explain. An Origin referred to a race’s Origin Witch. The First Witches from which all other bloodlines sprang. For Vet’Cnros this almost always referred to the Umbral Ascendant. The First Veil Witch, Escen'maelma. Yet, it could also, in some rare cases, refer to the Scion of Dark Seasons. The Patron and ancestral goddess of the Vet’Cnros. As the creator of Veilweaving, she too was an Origin Witch. Stella herself, as she could recall, was one of the uncommon descendents of the Scion of Dark Seasons’ bloodline, but as there was almost no functional difference between the god who created Veilweaving conceptually, and the First Veil Witch, it might have been easier to simply think of her Origin as ‘Vet’Cnros’. Technically speaking, her Origin was specifically the L’Ya’los - or the God-blooded. This was the most noble bloodline for the Vet’Cnros and their true Origin. As such, any subsequent bloodline Origins could generally be treated as being all the same. Lesser bloodlines would be captured by her magic just as easily as if they had been her own.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Success] 

The Witch’s face grimaced at Stella’s words, plainly offended,   ”…Been well? You...”   Her voice was still as the guttural bark of a dog, but it could form proper syllables in the Sunjath’lan tongue now.   ”You die. Revive. Then vanish for the better part of nine centuries and a full turn of the Cycle…. And ask if I’m well!?”   The flames from Zavriel’s snapping maw licked at her face with a heat like a furnace. Surely it would have been enough to burn a human body to ashes, but it seemed like she was beyond such trivialities now. The menacingly tall dog-faced Witch visibly deflated.   ”...I suppose that is just like you.”  

Stella had begun to recall Zavriel’s difficult circumstances. Despite her often hot temper, she had been largely reliant of Stella’s support and her management of the Black Conclave. Zavrielka was a Valrus, an Amalgamate Witch, a very rare school of magic, and an Ur-Witch of the school at that. However, her research often left her appearing in states which a Sunjath’la might call ‘unsightly’. Combined with her lack of decorum and open hostility towards much of the trivial Sunjath’lan social norms, she was an outcast. It was safe to say that Zavriel was forced to become who she was to survive and live above the pressures of Duvan. However, with Stella gone, Zavriel would have naturally lost access to the faculties necessary for her work. While she was a Seventh Magister, placing her three ranks from the bottom, she was a member of the Black Conclave. All Magisters of the Black Order were almost explicitly banned from the facilities and resources of the Lesser Conclave. If what she said was true, it had been over a thousand years, or conceptually, even dozens of times longer if a new Cycle of the L’Lotha had begun - not since she died, but during the subsequent time after her revival… She had lost an unfathomable amount of time across all those many instances where she had drifted among the darkness. Stella couldn’t even begin to guess how Zavriel had survived this long fending for herself. Evidently, she had managed, though the Witch she remembered was a short woman with fiery red hair… not this monstrosity.  [Stella: Sense Motive - Partial] 
   
  1st Day of the 2nd Cycle - Time: 1st Bell / LC: 31,182
Jun'athel; L'Chandal - The Crucible
The Crucible Hall; Entrance Hall  

Magister’s were a superior existence to Witches, so nearly all of them had knowingfully utterly destroyed a reality or two. The magics which they commanded were capable of that much at least. Within the Mortal Worlds, they were an existence above gods, but they were kept in check by the Order - for the Order was kept in check by the Lesser Conclave; the Assembly of all Magister Orders. Even so the Black Order was unique among them, in that they were ostracized by their peers and actively smothered by all other Orders, who actively worked against them. As such, Zavriel was a unique existence. As their Order was insular, they were forced to establish their own facilities and services internally to survive. As a Valrus Magister, she was likely the greatest Witch of Amalgamation there had ever been. Zavrielka could function as the Order’s Kindler, allowing them to manage and control their own Aspects. In most ways she was even superior to any actual Kindler, the only drawback was that she herself often assumed various Aspects, meaning she was almost never at her full strength. As the functional Kindler of the Order, Zavriel was an irreplaceable member.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Failure] 

The other beings which had been lingering outside had evidently chosen to make themselves scarce. Fleeing through the gateway shortly after Zavriel’s manifestation from above. One of those presences had been a Witch, though she had not managed to gather any more information then that. Entering the manor did not require direct line of sight with the gateway if you were already aware of its exact location. Though one of the beings appeared to simply evaporate. Perhaps a summoned familiar of the Witch which was dismissed.  [Stella: Perception - Success] 
  ”I do not know why it is now you return, but no… Things have been far from well in your absence.”   Zavriel’s dog-face seemed to be glued into a steady and constant scowl, looking down at her with disappointed and judgemental eyes.   ”That damned Caevos took over the Order, and was even appointed as the Black Magister by the Greater Conclave. It’s been centuries of dealing with her madness, but most of us are too afraid of her to resist. Only Lala speaks on your behalf… But now that she has ascended to become a Mortal-God, we fear for our future. It is only a matter of time before she rivals Lala as well… After the Severance damaged this realm, she welcomed all who could hear into the Crucible Hall for sanctuary. She claimed you had returned and destroyed Jun’athel! …Honestly, I did not believe her till now. Yet here you are…”   Her red eyes were growing heavy with a budding suspicion. Destruction had a way of following in Stella’s footsteps and perhaps this time it wasn’t far from the truth, but it wasn’t she who had fought B’Belka to a draw and broke reality.

The Witch paused before finally moving on,   ”...That aside. Ur-Melka was not having any of it and sealed all levels of the Crucible Hall beyond the entrance. Refusing to allow strangers and enemies into our home. Despite Cae’s threats, she resolved that if it was true that you were returning, only you could convince her to open the door… As much as I do not appreciate being left out to die in Planar Collapse, I respect her courage to finally stand up for herself.”   She sighed, crossing her arms,   ”As you can imagine, leaving all of the refugees and most of the Order to die didn’t quite sit well with the audience.  It was chaos.  As only Mel, Lala and you can open the door, they turned against her instead… I grew tired of the noise, so I came outside. It’s not like they can defeat an Origin Witch with force… But Duvan did send an Inquisitor, so it’s quite the mess inside.”   As Zavriel finished her explanation, a familiar surge of silver starlight suffused her body. The arcane gestures and power of new magic slipped into her mind. A spell which could only be cast within this place. A magic far more potent then any thing else she could recall, even in its weakest form.


   
 
 
  Silence, Crucible Hall  
School enchantment (compulsion); Level witch 0

 
 CASTING 
 
 Casting Time  1 swift action
 Components  V, S
 MP  0

 
 EFFECT 
 
 Range  medium (100 ft. + 10 ft./level)
 Target  one living creature
 Duration  1 round/level or permanent
 Saving Throw   Will  partial;  Spell Resistance  no

 
 DESCRIPTION 
 
You cause a creature within the Crucible Hall to fall silent. The target may not speak or cast spells with verbal components until you have dismissed this spell (a free action). Upon a successful save the duration of this effect is reduced to 1 round per caster level of this spell (max 10 rounds).

This cantrip may only be cast within the Crucible Hall Passage by the Keeper. This spell cannot be counterspelled. Non-divine creatures immune to enchantment spells are not immune to this cantrip. Additionally, this effect cannot be negated without first succeeding an opposed caster level check. The caster attempting to negate this spell receives a -50 circumstance penalty for each caster level the Keeper possesses. Upon success, the spell is negated and both the target and caster who negated this spell are afflicted with 1d6 points of spite. 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 6/6 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮙  Spite : 0 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (201,807xp)   (⮸ +120),   (⮯ -3,276 Exp Cost)  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※ LEARNING  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ INSIGHT ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)
※ SOVEREIGNTY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ NOBILITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ DISCOVERY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ VEIL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)
※ EVIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ CURSE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)
※ MEMORY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ WORLDS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 25% (25/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FAITH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)
※DREAMS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ ANCESTORS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ORIGIN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LEGENDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ PAST-LIFE  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ REINCARNATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)  (+2) 
 
 
 
      
forg99rules
 
 Stella rubbed her temple as she mulled over the information that came to her. Her mind wandered as she listened to Zavirel, the information regarding the witch coming to the forefront. Stella had some new questions regarding the witch before her: firstly, what is a Valrus? Secondly, what is an amalgamate witch? Lastly, what is a Kindler, and how does it help with Aspects? As she let her mind wander over those questions, she continued to listen to Zavriel. A scowl crept onto Stella's face as the witch continued to speak. Even as she rolled the various names over in her head to see what memories she had of these Witches, Stella could feel a hate building towards Caevos.

  "Seems many people have been busy scheming while I have been getting tossed around various realms. If I had been able to return instantly, I would have, but we both know what sort of Luck I have in getting to where I want to go. Hell, my revival hasn't been the most pleasant experience. Most of my memories had been shattered, and my powers were next to none initially. Even now, I am in this Aspect that isn't the greatest. If anyone had bothered to retrieve me, then Jun'athel wouldn't have been destroyed by the schemes of others. You would think they would learn that Scheming against me is not the smartest of choices."   Stella took a second to think about her next move,   "What is the feeling of the rest of the Conclave? Will they be on my side, or will they stand with Caevos? Also, just to note, the destruction of Jun'athel is mostly Adessa and B'Belka's doing, though I doubt anyone really cares about who is to blame and just wants someone to blame."   Looking up at the doorway, a thought crosses Stella's mind,   "You said there was an Inquisitor here; which one did Duvan decide to send?"   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 16 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 29 ]  - Information on what a Valrus is
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 14 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 31 ]  - Information on Amalgamate Witches
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 21 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 31 ]  - Information on Kindlers and how they assist with Aspects
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 27 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 21 ]  - Information on Caevos
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 16 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 17 ]  - Information on Lala
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 13 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 28 ]  - Information on Mortal-Gods
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 23 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 28 ]  - Information on Ur-Melka
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 27 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 16 ]  - Information on The inquisitor once I get the name from Zavriel
 
Mornings
     
 Valrus  was a term which both referred to a school of magic, and a specialized practitioner of that school. Much like how an Evoker practiced spells of the Evocation school. There was simply one word which referred to both. This was the formal name of the magic. Though, the more technical term used amid a Witch colloquy would be the School of Amalgamation and an Amalgamate Witch. The two things referred to the same subject.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Success] 

Stella did not understand the intricacies of this school of magic, but what was known was that a Kindler was a Valrus, but one appointed by a Keeper or similar being. This appointment granted them greater powers. The entire focus of Amalgamation was the study and manipulation of life-essence, the fates and the definitions of existence shared across the existential phases. This is what resulted in an Aspect. Kindlers possessed greater power in that they could conduct a ritual known as the Rite of Transfiguration, which allowed the lifetime of an Aspect to become ‘real’ and further define the Prime-Aspect. She didn’t understand what this truly meant, but she understood that you could not create Aspects, and they did not matter without all of  this . Whatever ‘this’ was.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Failure] 

The old name brought back memories amid a bemused smirk. Hexe Caevos was perhaps the youngest among the Order at the time. Cae had been the first member she had actually recruited herself. Strangely, she was also the only Veil Witch aside from herself amid the Order. At the time, she did not deserve the right to be called a Magister. She was an exceptional Witch, but that carried very little meaning within the Conclave. With her skill, she would have barely equalled an Apprentice within another Order. Yet, as the Black Conclave could create their own rules, Stella had accepted Caevos, recognizing her potential and resolving to teach her enough to stand on her own. The young Witch had been a perfect student, or nearly perfect, if not for her poor temperament and sinister personality. This was not exactly foreign to any Veil Witch though, fitting more within an almost typical behavior. What was not normal was her almost manic disposition. She was plagued by a single-minded obsession with any pursuit she deemed worth making. Cae wasn’t particularly ‘talented’ in the way that Witches measured talent. Her talent was that doggedness which compelled her to never stop or surrender, no matter the challenge. This allowed her to learn any spell or technique, given enough time. She might not succeed the first time, or the hundredth time, but she would eventually succeed. Caevos would find success no matter the cost or how low she had to stoop to achieve satisfaction.

At first Stella viewed this as a good thing, but she quickly discovered it was just as much a curse. Her crazed obsessions were applied to everything, and her inclinations were unpredictable or violent. She could take offense from even the most insignificant of sleights and make her vengeance upon you her next obsession. As was the case for herself. Stella had made an offhand comment about Cae’s ‘hasty gestures’ while attempting to teach her how to weave a World Veil. Despite trying to console her that it was a habit ‘common for beginners’, she didn’t take the criticism well. Always dramatic, Cae made a grand show of her outrage, vowing to become a Magister who would bring the Order to new heights before taking everything from her. At the time, the maniacal ranting of a neophyte was hardly threatening, and it gave the Witch some further motivation; she couldn’t really complain. Though by the sound of it, an age-old debt had perhaps come due.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Partial] 

‘Lala’ was a nickname she had not heard in a very long time. The High Hexe Renor-Telahaad L'La'Allavalka, was her oldest friend and her first mentor. In her youth, she’d found it easier to get along with, and share in the company of Ros'wussrun, rather than her own kin. After Stella had fashioned the Indomitable Crown, christening herself as ‘the Unsung King’, she created her own realm amid the Nightmare Worlds, where she met Valka. Despite their differences, the two of them became the best of friends. It was only later that she learned that the Witch named ‘Lala’, was actually King Allavalka. The First Nightmare King, and Origin Witch of the Dream. Far older than Duvan, older too than the Third World, Valka was an existence which predated the Garden itself. As the Origin of Nightmare Witches, all Ros'wussrun bloodlines stemmed from her own. She was an enigmatic being who had joined hands with the First and the Three Mothers to create the Garden and protect reality from the horrors which lurked beyond. Under her guidance, they and Ur-Malka had come together to create an organization known as the Black Conclave.

The act had caused quite the uproar from the Wheel and Council, as the group had been formed with Valka’s endorsement, intending for it to become its own separate Conclave, unrelated to the Lesser and Greater Assemblies of the Magisters. It was only after a great deal of debating did they finally convince Lala to instead opt to become an Order of the Lesser Conclave. A suggestion which the Conclave was not happy with, but pressure from the Council and a stipend for their patience eventually bid them to accept. Stella wasn’t sure if Valka was actually ‘divine’ or not, but she was certainly viewed as a saintly existence by Ros'wussrun. Perhaps she might have been considered something…  more.   [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Partial] 

Hexe Ur-Melka had been her first instructor long ago. Unlike her own peoples, the Ros'wussrun believed in educating their youth. Mel was a celebrated magical teacher who frequently crossed the Worlds to perform her duties as a professor in the Great Academies. Melka taught and conducted lectures in almost every universe with a reputable school worth mentioning. Despite being so skilled an educator, Stella had been a poor student, one of the worst in-fact. Mel made that no secret and was very verbal in her belief that Stella was a failure as a pupil; but she was equally as forthcoming in her belief that scholastic achievements are not the sole measure of success. Their relationship greatly improved after their tenure as student and teacher ended. They generally got along very well and it had been Ur-Melka who had become the third founding member of the Black Conclave. While Melka was a Witch-Knight Lord and easily the most threatening Magister among them in terms of martial skill, she was instead celebrated for her mastery of Circle Magic. As a Sunjath’la who had abandoned her family, she had freed herself from the social obligations of the city, but was without a home. Her magic had functioned as the foundations for them to collectively construct the Crucible Hall. As Melka prefers living as a hermit when not in transit as an educator, extra attention was paid to building their new home. Though, since creating the Passage, she has also created other abodes throughout the Otherworlds. When not traveling, she is often very difficult to reach, as she prefers isolation and rarely allows those uninvited to enter her realms. Her penchant for solitude has made her remarkably adept at arcane locks, seals and planar security. Prior to Stella’s own death, Mel was the highest ranking Magister in the Order and had mastered one of the 9th Ascendent Circles - the highest class of spells within her casting tradition. Stella had actually failed out of Melka’s Circle Magic classes, so there wasn’t very much she knew regarding the system specifically. Though, what was evident came in for form of the nearly omniscient power of this Circle known as the Endless Knot.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Partial] 

Divinity was a strange concept within the Garden. Much of it largely depended on the perspective of the one you asked. To a human-being of the First World, a Witch like herself might be viewed as a god. In some Worlds, Magisters were quite literally worshiped as gods, and for good reason. Power which dipped outside of the conceivable was oft simply labeled as ‘divine’, but nothing could be further from the truth. The spark of the ‘divine’ was a flake of light known as Transcendence. Any number of being paraded about as ‘gods’ in the Lesser Worlds. Performing some function or representing something, as a mythical entity. This was not Transcendence. Even an animal, such as a bear, could become some mythical being. This mythic stature was just an abundance of energy which allowed something to function within the bounds of a higher plane or dimension, but did not influence its existential phase.

Transcendence was a gift of the Fates and the Third World which allowed a being to act upon those fundamental principles of the Garden. To interface with the Fates, to tamper with the existential phases or touch the Wheel of the Cycle. Any being could be touched by the gift, suffused for a short time with the briefest glint of the divine. Those who were chosen and ascended into the Light of Transcendence, were reborn as a Mortal-God. Beings of the Third World given purpose by the Fates, the Three Mothers and the First. Stella recalled the words, but she’d slept through class, so the context really just wasn’t there. At a minimum, she understood that Mortal-Gods of the Garden were perhaps best understood as ‘true gods’, with a purpose designed by the Garden. Though, there was an order to things, and often such newborn deities had to work their way through a great many trials. For a Vet’Cnros, the easiest way to understand the comparison was by looking at her own patrons. The Scion of Dark Seasons, the Mados and the Lady Black would all be considered Mortal-Gods. There was not much more to say beyond that.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Failure] 
   
  1st Day of the 2nd Cycle - Time: 1st Bell / LC: 31,182
Jun'athel; L'Chandal - The Crucible
The Crucible Hall; Entrance Hall  
  ”...Tossed around?”   Zavriel’s fur-covered face scrunched up in skeptical confusion.   ”I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about, but if your memory was damaged, likely the Ego of your Prime-Aspect was significantly damaged. Or perhaps whatever technique you used did so intentionally. You certainly would have been utterly destroyed had it not been so…”   The dog-faced woman paused briefly, pondering something,   ”...Perhaps, it was even your  intention  to forget.”   As a Valrus, this sort of quandary was in-fact Zavriel’s prime speciality. There might not even be someone more qualified to contemplate such questions.   ”If your magics were also subverted… Which, of course, would be the case if you were to shave away parts of your own consciousness from your life-essence… There was not much anyone could have done to find you. Any change to one’s Ego, is effectively reshaping the expressed definition of what makes a being itself. If the definition of a leaf were expressed as ‘1,2,3,4,3’, and you changed it to ‘1,2,3,4,5’, it becomes a fish. Each series of values represents an expression and details how physical matter is expressed within the higher existential phases…”   The canine Witch was beginning to ramble now, pacing small circles.

  ”No one was going to come for you, because for a time, you yourself ceased to be you. In fact, you still shouldn’t be you. The definition of ‘you’ was destroyed and replaced. You were… or had been, someone else. Living wherever you were, and leading a life unrelated to the one you once held. At least until you rediscovered your awareness of your own self…”   Her gaze snapped to Stella,   ”Whatever you did, it made you invisible. I doubt anything or anyone you encountered truly recognized you, at least not until you began to recognize yourself... Though how you managed to alter yourself without becoming something else completely…. Well, that would require more thought.”  

At the mention of Adessa, she snarled a short retort.   ''Gather two Vet’Cnros in a room and tell me what doesn’t break… No offense.”   Despite her dog-face, her gestures were quite expressive. At the mention of ‘scheming’ the Witch visibly raised a brow.   ''Forgive me… I was but a girl when you welcomed me into the Order… but you were never, quite…  insightful , in matters of intrigue. I’m not exactly a strategist either, but gods, you were as keen as a stone. I don’t think there has ever been a singular Magister in the Lesser Conclave which respected your investigatory prowess or felt any threat that you might unearth their plots.”   Zavriel pressed a paw to her snout, gesturing as if to smother back her laughter. It was more a habit, or perhaps a curtsy, but highly ineffective to mask her snickering.

  ''You created an Order composed almost solely of Witches. Of course there will be scheming. Just as there always has been, and just as there always will be. It is the same in every Order, though I suspect we are more prone to such things. Or at least such is the case for Sunjath’la. That much is in our blood, but every Magister acts in their own self-interests. ”   Zavriel paused to consider the situation with Caevos.   ''No Magister of the Black Conclave will side with the Lady Finch. Those who have publicly showed any favor have simply been coerced or cowed by fear to not resist her. However, the problem is no longer an internal conflict. Cae has been plotting against you for… Well, my entire life. She’s carefully devised strategies against you to prevent this from being resolved simply…”  

Zavriel’s face grew serious as she crossed her arms over her chest,   '' First, you should understand the situation. Cae isn’t the petulant child you brought into the Order so long ago. After surpassing the rank of First Magister, she is now the only High Hexe Savant of the Grand Conclave. Obviously, as hers is the only voice which reaches them, she has earned their endorsement as the Black Magister. Which also means, the Black Conclave, is by title, now part of the Grand Conclave as well. This makes us the highest ranking Order, but also keeps us out of the Lesser Conclave’s hair, which they’ve taken quite the liking to. The superior rank is mostly dismissed as they had barely considered us a true Order to begin with. The Grand Coven also recognized her as heir to House Tevel… A bleating Vet’Cnros, heir to the First of the Three Great Sunjath’la Houses…. It makes my skin crawl.”  

She recoiled in evident disgust at the idea, the very notion offending her on some fundamental level.   ''Even beyond this, Duvan has granted her the Sigil of ‘D’Rhen’, a Dark Witch, and the title of ‘Draa-Ur’. She is the only Witch who has not become Hexen to carry the designation as a ‘Double Master’ of the arts.”   The title was almost explicitly reserved for a Witch King, who had achieved god-like understanding of their magic, but it was theoretically possible to win the title if a Witch were to achieve absolute mastery in multiple schools of magic.   ''Duvan was forced to grant her this much by both the Conclave and Council. She has also achieved Ur-mastery in Veilweaving, but there exists no title which explicitly recognizes Veil Magic.”   Simply put, she was a genius.

  ''Ah, the Council… Yes, I forgot to mention, she was also appointed as the 10th Speaker of the Wheel and Council. Now she stands with the representatives of the Third World, speaking on behalf of the Second. Passing judgment upon us..  Lesser creatures.  She also won the endorsement of the House of Black, becoming a Chosen for the Mother of the Black Veil. Receiving recognition from the House of Black as the second Greater Dark Witch… Ah, and she’s now a literal god.”   Zavriel sighed out the last portion with a defeated huff.   ''We could spend time enough til the Second Bell recounting her achievements, but the result is the same. She’s insulated herself against you. She now has more of a righteous claim as the Black Magister and leader of the Black Conclave then you do. She’s lead the Order for almost as long as you did, and achieved far more. Everyone that actually matters will recognize her claim.  She’s stolen the Order. ”   Her last words landed with a dull thud. A flatness and finality that was uncomfortable and difficult to navigate.

  ''...But the Magisters of the Black are still with you. We didn’t join the Order for the Lesser Conclave. This was always a byproduct, never our destination. As far as the Witch Inquisitor, Duvan has dispatched Hexe Kos'Yellavoska'Tevel. It’s somewhat troubling having the Inquisitor belong to the same House as Caevos, but she appears to be doing her job properly… For now at least.”   Another flare of silverlight surged into her breast, filling her with a warm power.   ''...I’ve been meaning to ask. What is that unusual light?”  

Stella could recall that Yella was the name of the youngest newborn daughter of House Tevel. Evidently, in her absence, the babe had grown into a Witch-Inquisitor of the city. The irritable scratching whispers in the back of her mind spoke of her; A Witch with an icy disposition and respected as a genius in theoretical magics, even engineering various unique and novel spells throughout her youth. Her insight is prized by the Grand Coven, whom she advises.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Failure] 
   
   [Soul] Twilight Cure, Crucible Hall  
School conjuration (healing); Level witch 0

 
 CASTING 
 
 Casting Time  1 standard action
 Components  V, S, M (a piece of moonlight)
 MP  1

 
 EFFECT 
 
 Range  medium (100 ft. + 10 ft./level)
 Targets  up to three creatures/level within range
 Duration  instantaneous
 Saving Throw   Will  half (harmless);  Spell Resistance  yes (harmless)

 
 DESCRIPTION 
 
A variation of the Katherine Spell by the same name created by the Unsung King. The caster grasps a ray of moonlight and channels the gentle, soothing energy of Blessed Twilight to heal many. This spell heals up to three creatures within range per caster level you possess. Healed creatures recover a number of hit points equal to 1d4 + 1 per caster level you possess. The twilight energy gently washes over the targets, knitting wounds and restoring vitality. Curses which prevent healing are cured and there is a chance to remove one random negative condition from a target.

If a creature is unwilling, they can make a Will save to halve the healing received. This cantrip may only be cast within the Crucible Hall Passage by the Keeper. This spell cannot be counterspelled. Curses which require a check or save to be removed have their DC reduced by 10 per caster level of the Keeper and impart no subsequent negative condition to the caster regardless if this check succeeds or fails. Negative conditions which are randomly cured have any required checks negated if they are from a non-divine source.

Upon acquiring this Potential Spell, your maximum Mana increases by 3. If you do not possess Mana, you gain an MP Pool.
 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 6/9 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮙  Spite : 0 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (202,057xp)   (⮸ +250),   (⮯ -3,276 Exp Cost)  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※ LEARNING  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ INSIGHT ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)
※ SOVEREIGNTY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ NOBILITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ DISCOVERY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ VEIL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)
※ EVIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ CURSE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)
※ MEMORY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 16% (16/100 EXP)  (+4) 
※ WORLDS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 26% (26/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FAITH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% 6/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※ APPRENTICE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※DREAMS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ ANCESTORS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ORIGIN  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)  (+5) 
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ LEGENDS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ PAST-LIFE  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ REINCARNATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)  (+2) 
 
 
 
      
forg99rules
 
 Stella's emotions swirled tumultuously as she grappled with the resurfacing memories. The revelation of her past connections was a tumult of excitement and frustration, especially upon discovering that Caevos had turned against her over what seemed to be a trivial matter. While the recollections of Melka and Lala offered her a semblance of comfort, Stella was now left questioning the nature of the Endless Knot and the realm she had created within the Nightmare Worlds. As she redirected her focus to Zavriel, each of the woman’s words only heightened Stella's irritation with the current situation. A wry smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth as Zavriel rambled on about Stella’s revival.   “Stick Zavriel and Ulbeelta in a room together,”   Stella mused,   “and I bet they’d figure it all out.”   Zavriel’s remark about Stella’s supposed inability to discern schemes made her eyes roll, even though she knew it was true. The fact that Zavriel took pleasure in her discomfort only deepened her frustration.

Stella’s focus sharpened as Zavriel detailed Caevos’s current status. A chill crept through her, raising goosebumps as she absorbed the extent of Caevos’s accomplishments. The sheer array of titles and positions held by the Witch was both impressive and unsettling, filling Stella with a palpable sense of dread. The knowledge that the other Magisters of the Black were aligned with Caevos did little to ease her apprehension.   “It seems the situation is worse than I anticipated,”   Stella admitted.   “If she’s fortified herself so thoroughly against me, finding a way to counter her will be no easy feat.”   She paused to collect her thoughts.   “Even if I prove that Adessa and B’Belka were responsible for Jun’athiel’s destruction, it won’t matter. The influential figures will side with her regardless of who caused the devastation. The fact that she is the heir of House Tevel is intriguing, especially considering it was a Tevel who initially caused the destruction. I’ve encountered a few Tevels since my revival, but I’m uncertain if this will be of any use.”   She sighed as she gazed at the portal.   “I’m unclear about the nature of the light, but since arriving in the Crucible, it’s been filling me, gradually restoring fragments of my former power. I only wish the process were faster. It would be helpful if it provided something potent enough to confront Caevos.”   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 31 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 20 ]  - knowledge on Endless Knot if any
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 28 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 28 ]  - knowledge regarding the realm I treated in the nightmare world
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 23 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 23 ]  - trying to think how I could prove that it was Adessa and B'Belka that caused the destruction
 
Mornings
     
The mysteries of the Circles were always beyond her grasp or ability to rationalize, but Ur-Melka had attempted to describe the power of her Ascendent Circle. She claimed that she herself was no longer a singular being, or possessed a physical Prime Aspect. Her consciousness now spanned across all her potential selves, across all World Lines and Divergence, even across the Black Line; another way to reference the Inverse. Stella couldn’t begin to piece together the implications of what this might mean, but it was her first introduction to those magics which defied those foundational rules of the Garden which she had once believed were an immutable thing.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Failure] 

A recollection briefly returned to her of that strange colorless realm. It had felt like she had only just recently departed it, the Nightmare World where she had reclaimed the Thousandfold Crown and clawed back her title as the Unsung King. The Pale City of Sleep, Gapp. A universe without light. A world without color. The last echoes of Isha’Venosha still lingered here. The First Silence. The Long Silence. The Quiet Before Creation. Words were forbidden here, and it was the Unsung King whom guarded that quiet. She had lived it, in what felt like mere hours ago, yet she herself struggled to recall it. Strained to even remind herself what she had done and what powers she had clawed back even moments ago before coming to this place…. It was centuries ago now. Longer than any mortal had lived. It felt like her conscious mind now dwelt between these moments of awareness in a sea of unconsciousness beyond time. It was a dream now, something from long ago. The thought of returning to that unsettling world made her skin crawl. It was not a place anyone would wish to come upon.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Partial] 

In the Second World masking guilt was a momentous task. Just as she herself had stood trial for her own crimes once before, so too was it plain that no malicious act could pass easily beneath the sight of a Justice. The events of one’s own actions were intrinsically linked to the Fates, and all those who could read them closely could lay bare the truth of the world and one’s own nature. It was no small task to mask one’s crimes, and it did not require great effort to prove one’s innocence; but everyone was guilty of something.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Partial] 
   
  1st Day of the 2nd Cycle - Time: 1st Bell / LC: 31,182
Jun'athel; L'Chandal - The Crucible
The Crucible Hall; Entrance Hall  
  ”... Indeed. The problem of Caevos is not one easily solved. I would speak with the other Magisters. Tasli never liked you much, but I’m sure even she would choose you over Caevos. If all the Magisters side with you, what does it matter who owns the Order?  ”   Zavriel paused to consider Stella’s words, she was silent for a moment before replying,   ”It might be best to keep that to yourself for now. At least, until you’ve spoken with Allavalka. I’m not sure your relation with House Tevel, but it’s best not to burn bridges in besmirching the most powerful House of Duvan before you know where you stand. That might also give Caevos a pretense to escalate against you further. Your memory may be muddled, so I will be clear: The truth is second to honor in matters regarding the Great Houses. It is not for you to pass judgment upon the High Nobles of the city. Accusing a Tevel of a crime is an offense proportionally greater than the one which you accuse them of… But Lala is a Justice of Black. As a Judge of the Second World no one is exempt from her law.”  
  ”That aside. The matter of her becoming the Black Magister exists separately from this one particular incident. She’s held that title for many centuries now, the support she’s amassed won’t simply be overturned just because you have returned and are innocent. Perhaps it might even be more productive if you  were  guilty. At least then others might fear you, or at least might become more cautious, despite your…  unassuming  form.  ”  

The canine Witch scratched her cheek as Stella explained more about the strange luminous spectacle unfolding once again before them. The lights twisted and danced, surging with new beads of colorless energy and infusing her once again.   ”Very interesting… The Passage itself is a series of World Veils. Melka did mention that you made great efforts to go as far as suffusing expressions of your Prime Aspect into each Veil comprising the realities of each subsequent Passage which forms the Crucible Hall. An  amalgamation  of Anima and Mana which could function similar to a phylactery. Icons which could redefine your Ego’s expression, thereby restoring yourself, thus achieving immortality. It sounded crude, but it was the only spell you’ve ever cast which Melka seemed proud of…”

“If that’s the case, then you must remain within the Crucible Hall to reclaim your powers. Each moment, your existence is further defined to align closer with your previous self. However, you will eventually exhaust the energies here and you will need to progress to deeper floors… An act, I don’t yet recommend. Also, keep in mind, you might regain your powers in a strange order. You might not be capable of using spells and powers you recover without subsequent Potentials being restored prior. I’ve made that mistake once before...”

“Ah… And there’s one more problem I forgot to mention.
House Gwenlaer was caught amid the destruction and thus decided to shelter here as well…”  
   
   [Soul] Demand Tribute, Crucible Hall  
School necromancy; Level witch 0
 
 CASTING 
 
 Casting Time  1 standard action  Components  V, S, M (black essence-stone)  MP  1
 
 EFFECT 
 
 Range  close (25 ft. + 5 ft./2 levels)  Target  one living creature
 Duration  1 hour/level  Saving Throw  partial;  Spell Resistance  no
 
 DESCRIPTION 
 
The Unsung King demands a tribute of arcane power from a single target, who must offer her a number of experience points or fragments equal to 100 x her Caster Level x 1d12 or suffer severe consequences. Alternatively, the target may offer spells or mana, valued at 250 x the Spell Slot Level x Caster Level worth of experience points. The tribute can be paid in any combination of experience points, fragments, mana and spell slots. The Unsung King may grant the target an amount of time to pay this tribute equal to the duration of this spell, or demand immediate compensation.

If the target fails or refuses to pay the tribute, they suffer 20d6 hit point damage per caster level and are banished from the Crucible Hall for 1 year per caster level. The victim may make a Will save to reduce this damage by half, but may not recover these lost hit points until they have returned to the Crucible Hall.

If the tribute is paid, the Unsung King may choose to either absorb the experience points, convert the value into fragments, or store the spells and mana in an arcane focus or item capable of retaining spell charges. Once paid, the target is granted clemency and cannot be forcefully banished by the Unsung King from the current plane for the next 24 hours while they retain good standing.

This spell cannot be countered by creatures who do not first succeed a caster level check versus the Unsung King. Creatures who attempt this check suffer a -50 circumstance penalty to their check per caster level the Unsung King possesses. Upon success, the spell is countered and the target suffers 1 spite and 20d8 points of hit point damage per caster level the Unsung King possesses for each round they remain within the Crucible Hall. This hit point damage cannot be restored until after they have left the Crucible Hall. Creatures who depart the Hall while spited in this way may not return for 1 year per caster level the Unsung King possesses.

Upon acquiring this Potential Spell, your HD increases by 1 and you gain a misty auric barrier which protects you from harm. This protective feature comes in the form of a pool of temporary hit points. The aura’s durability is equal to 5 temporary hit points per MP you possess. Increases and decreases in your mana affect the maximum health of your aura. Every hour your aura returns to its maximum hit points, as appropriate for your current mana, as long as you retain at least 1 MP. Until your aura is destroyed you possess regeneration 1/-.
 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 6/9 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮙  Spite : 0 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (201,937xp)   (⮸ +130),   (⮯ -3,276 Exp Cost)  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※ LEARNING  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ INSIGHT ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)
※ SOVEREIGNTY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ NOBILITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DISCOVERY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ VEIL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ EVIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ CURSE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)
※ MEMORY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ WORLDS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 27% (27/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FAITH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ANCESTORS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ORIGIN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ LEGENDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ PAST-LIFE  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ REINCARNATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)  (+2) 
 
 
 
      
forg99rules
 
 The dread in Stella's stomach subsided as she listened to Zavriel, a surge of hope taking its place that she might still have others who would follow her. The knowledge that the other Magisters might support her brought relief, comforting her with the possibility of building a new order with those she had previously known. However, this time, she would be more vigilant against any schemes directed at her. As the light fused into her body, Stella took a deep breath, holding back both her anxiety and excitement. While Zavriel explained how the passage was restoring her, Stella couldn’t help but smile broadly, though the smile instantly faded at the mention of House Gwenlaer. Stella was unsure about the name but, for some reason, felt uneasy.   "Sound advice: I will speak with Allavalka before making any declarations against anyone. There's no need to make more enemies at this point. I hope to talk to the others from the Order before I have to deal with that problem, though, given my recent luck, I wonder if I’ll get the chance. I already have issues not being able to use what I have gained; this form has no way of ignoring the material components of spells, and some of what I have gained requires interesting materials. My memory is still unclear; what issues do I have with House Gwenlaer?"   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 20 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 27 ]  - Information about Talso
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 26 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 27 ]  - Information on the other Magisters of the Order
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 16 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 27 ]  - Information on House Gwenlaer
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 30 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 32 ]  - Information on World Veils if I haven't done that before
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 15 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 17 ]  - Where I can get black essence-stone and a piece of moonlight
 
Mornings
     
Magic of the Second World could be a strange and unusual thing, even by the standards of a Witch. Many unique and novel spells required bits and components which could be unusual. For such reasons many Witches collected and traded curios, many spells stores in Duvan also sold uncommon bits and alchemical components. Most of which were items of unknown use, quality or purpose. This was one reason why magical research was often very expensive and required sponsors, or the coffers of a noble house to pursue. Witches could spend decades investigating a single component in pursuit of its magical properties, compounding processes and harvesting techniques. Esoteric components were often beyond explanation and truly god-like magic often required mystical casting focuses which could even cease being tangible things.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Failure] 

Including herself, there were six Magisters of the Black Conclave. Of course there was her former-student-turned-usurper, High Hexe Savant Ur-Caevos; the new Black Magister and leader of the Order. There was also Hexe Ur-Melka, her old teacher and co-founder of the Order. She was formerly the highest ranking Magister of the Order, which now made her the second highest ranking Magister. Stella could imagine that if the leader of the Order was so disliked, likely most of the duties were instead brought to Melka as the proverbial ‘Underboss’. There was of course also Hexe Ur'Zavrielka Ust'Telba, who she spoke with now. Zavriel was at the peak of the bottom tier of the Magister ranks, placing her practically in the middle of the pack in terms of the Order. Though unlike other Orders, Magister ranking was no real indication of ability and was largely ignored by Magisters of the Black. The one she knew best aside from Melka was High Hexe Renor-Telahaad L'La'Allavalka, the Origin Witch of the Nightmare Worlds and the First Nightmare King. Despite being a creative force which held in the creation of the Garden, she was the lowest ranking member of the Order. As the Witch King of the Nightmare Worlds, Allavalka had long ago banished the Magisters out from the Dream after becoming annoyed by their mess and meddling. This egress had ultimately been the cause for the formation of the Conclave. Thus, Lala did not look upon the Conclave favorably and was not motivated to waste any more of her time than necessary entertaining their frivolous matters. Their fifth and youngest member was Tasli, the Nightmare Witch Hexe Taslivoska'Ri'Rekk. Taslivos did not get along well with most of the Order, save for Velka and sometimes Melka. Tasli had made the effort to join herself, and unlike all of the other Magisters, she had not been a recruit. This meant that she had to endure the great burdens involved with the regular process of becoming a Magister through the Lesser Conclave. In many regards, she was the only ‘true’ Magister of the Order.

Tasli was the youngest Magister of her rank and a Rekk-Evoker, or an Evoker of the legendary house of Rekk. As such… she was powerful. It was difficult to know just  how powerful . She often enjoyed creating and destroying planes for fun or practice, but vehemently opposed the use of such force against the living. As a child she had mastered calamitous spells such as the Un’Khlasta and had spent her lifetime refining the art of deconstruction though mustered forces across reality. While the Conclave welcomed her into their ‘proper’ Orders, she instead opted to join the Black Conclave, seeking to join the same Order as her great-great-grandmother, Allavalka. Finally, the sixth member of the Order, was Magister Astral herself. Though she struggled to gather herself once again, her status and the burdens of it still remained.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Success] 

Gwenlaer was a great noble house of the Otherworld of Kathe. Or, at least… that was what Witches assumed was the case. Kathe was a secret world, one which no knowledge was allowed to escape. Even names themselves was often not something others were allowed to know. Thus, many Witches of Kathe often took names much like Stella herself. Pseudo-names and invented identities to protect the secrets of their World. Common Witches were seemingly not allowed to leave Kathe, forever ensnared within their own universe. Only a handful of groups would frequent the other realms outside of their own. One of the seemingly most senior among them was House Gwenlaer. It was questionable if this was even the true name of the House, but this was the only name by which outsiders knew. Even the Fates themselves would not relinquish the truth of their identity. Kathe was a void from which no knowledge could seemingly escape.

The Daughters of Gwenlaer seemed to large be Justices and other manner of enforcers which kept their kin in line and acted to protect the interests of Kathe in other worlds. The agents of Kathe were notoriously vicious and uncompromising. Their actions would always act in the interests of their own peoples, which might mean going as far as being rid of potential dangers before they could bring harm to their realm. Often a Witch’s research in matters of the Second World, stability of the realms and traversing the planes could put one at odds with Kathe. The agents of their realm were dogged and attentive in their duty, hunting down threats with an almost single-minded purpose. The presence of Katherine Witches never bode well for outsiders, and this was doubly so for Vet’Cnros. One might say,  they were natural enemies . Even the nature of Vet’Cnros slipping through the cracks of reality to traverse the Worlds was deemed a significant threat to their realm, as no one was allowed to enter Kathe. Despite the great ire they caused to many, Veil Witches were almost exclusively hunted down and killed by the forces of Kathe, while the rest of Duvan treated them more of a nuisance. If the most powerful known agents of their World was now in her home… That was a  very big  problem.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Success] 
   
  1st Day of the 2nd Cycle - Time: 1st Bell / LC: 31,182
Jun'athel; L'Chandal - The Crucible
The Crucible Hall; Entrance Hall  

Zavriel tilted her head as a confused look played across her face.   ”Did you forget to keep your talent to eschew your casting materials when you formed this Aspect?”   The dog-woman signed deeply, plain disappointment evident in her expression.   ”You cannot cut out the components of unique spells, but you cannot learn the potentials to collect novel materials without that knowledge either… You’re fortunate to have found me first. I’m sure you don’t recall, but I am the Kindler for… Well, I suppose most Worlds. You can pay the cost to me and I can grant this knowledge to your Aspect. I would do this quickly if you are collecting your old magics again. You will not be able to use much of your spells… Unless you’re planning on trading for materials.”   The last comment sounded like it was supposed to be a joke, but came out sounding like a question. Stella was once again reminded of the critical role which Zavriel played in the Order. If her associations and reputation largely cut her off from access to fundamental services like a Kindler, then she had to depend on her peers like Zavrielka to fill in the gap.

The Witch crossed her arms,   ”...Right. Well, you’re Vet’Cnros, and they’re Kathy.”   She paused, the words hanging in the air as if that alone were self explanatory,   ”Meaning… They’ll murder you the moment you give them a reason to. Such as… Destroying Jun’athiel. Breaking Cosmic Law. Invading other existential spaces. Disrupting the Fates…  Including Veilweaving . Introducing Severance. Or traveling by illicit means which defies the Law of Passage… Or just being another pesky Veil Witch. All things, you do. As I didn’t see a Passage Door open either, I can safely assume you didn’t come here by normal means either. Katherine Agents are a problem for you, but to be fair, they’re also a problem for Caevos as well. She’s spent a great deal of time over many centuries to cultivate a positive relationship with Kathe, but that trust can evaporate in a moment. Justices will always be suspicious regardless and do not care for ‘good-will’. While they are present she cannot act too rashly…”  

The swirl of lights thinned but were still present. The energy in the air had grown sparse where they stood, but seemed to grow more dense the closer her eyes moved towards the great magical manor looming not far in the distance. No magic came to her mind this time, but she had not exhausted all of the power in this place just yet.

 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 6/9 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮙  Spite : 0 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (201,917xp)   (⮸ +110),   (⮯ -3,276 Exp Cost)  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※ LEARNING  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ INSIGHT ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)
※ SOVEREIGNTY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ NOBILITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ DISCOVERY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ VEIL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)
※ EVIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ CURSE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)
※ MEMORY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ WORLDS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 28% (28/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FAITH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ ANCESTORS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ORIGIN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ LEGENDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ PAST-LIFE  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)  (+2) 
※ REINCARNATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 7% (7/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)  (+2) 
 
 
 
  
     
forg99rules
 
 As the memories returned, Stella found herself in a state of conflict. She should have been happy at the return of her memories, but the mere thought of House Gwenlaer stirred a familiar dread that overshadowed her happiness. The dread deepened as Zavriel spoke of the Kathe, there was little doubt that Caevos had already sown the seeds of doubt about her innocence in their minds. There was at least a slight ray of sunshine. Zavriel being a Kindler meant that Stella could at least fix one of the problems that she currently had.   "Yeah... I don't think I was conscious of the fact that I was creating an Aspect when it happened and most likely forgot to keep various useful things. I do recall you being a Kindler; I wouldn't say that I remember exactly what a Kindler does, though. I will pay the cost to you to be granted the knowledge, can't risk the spells I have and might gain being worthless in the current situation."   The feeling of the energy thinning made Stella wonder how much time she might have before she had to make the leap and enter the manor.   "I can feel the energy growing sparse here, I don't think there is much left here to be gained."   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


couldn't think of any rolls, sadge
 
Mornings
     
  1st Day of the 2nd Cycle - Time: 1st Bell / LC: 31,182
Jun'athel; L'Chandal - The Crucible
The Crucible Hall; Entrance Hall  

The lupine-woman didn’t immediately respond, seemingly lost in thought before off-handedly commenting to herself.   ”...You’ve done quite the number on yourself. ”   Zavriel sighed before continuing,   ”Very…  juvenile  Vet’Cnros are said to sometimes Aspect unknowingly. I’ve heard many rumors about such things, but usually as Sunjath’lan jokes regarding the incompetence of your race… I didn’t think much of it. Caevos once mentioned a term your kind refer to as ‘proving years’. The ‘young and restless’ period of a young Vet’Cnros, where they would either destroy themselves, or survive, and were forced to teach themselves; learning with each failure. Caevos claimed your people didn’t teach their youth, because it was too dangerous, but Valka asserted that the sentiment was different for most of you. Your people don’t seem to agree on much, so I assume this is something closer to the truth.”  

Zavriel crossed her arms,   ”If you are now in your ‘proving years’ and lack conscious control of your magic, some of your own kin would deem you too dangerous to keep around, and too dangerous to teach… I can understand the sentiment. Aspecting unconsciously… If that’s even possible, suggests you can subconsciously control or complete spellwork of an intricacy and complexity beyond your current skill or comprehension without thought or conscious will. I’ve never heard of such a thing. Truely, that is a terrifying prospect…”

“Might you unconsciously poke holes in reality? Wash away a World with Severance? Detonate the very Passage we stand in, all by some subconscious will? I’m not being dramatic. You might now lack the fundamental education, but each of these tasks is near-equal or even simpler than creating an entirely new Aspect.”   There was a look of uncertainty in her eye, like she was suddenly standing next to something dangerous. She didn’t need to say it aloud, it was plainly obvious. Stella was a walking bomb just waiting to go off, and if the fate of Jun’athel was any indication, the results might be disastrous.   ”You require someone to keep you in check, or at least guide you towards what not to do… Someone better equipped. Caevos is the only Veil Witch among us. The other Magister’s likely are not familiar enough with your kind, at least not in this rare state…”  

Zavriel paused for a moment,   ”Hmm, Sircé did come with the Matron of House Gwenlaer. I’ve heard she has spent many centuries among Vet’Cnros and mastered Veilweaving. Some rumors even suggest she has taught your kin before, among other things. There is no way to know what is true, but it is something to consider if presented the chance.  ”    The Witch gestured, calling a small dark red flame to her pawed hand.   ”A Kindler is a being who overseas the cycles of life and renewal throughout a World. Just as it was the Blessed Mother of the First who first scattered the embers of Tresk’ri-Chath to create all life in the Garden, so too do the Kindlers tend to these fires. By these blessings can we curate and cultivate the life-essence of all living things. Simply put, no Kindler, no meaning to an Aspect… Other than the practicality of puppeting a second skin.”

“If the energy you see is not completely exhausted, then there is still something left to gather here. Now…”   Zavriel stretched out her hand, now engulfed in a deep eerie fire, as if to offer a hand-shake.   ”That will be three-thousand fragments.”  
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 6/9 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮙  Spite : 0 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (202,017xp)   (⮸ +100),   (⮯ -3,276 Exp Cost)  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※ LEARNING  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ INSIGHT ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)
※ SOVEREIGNTY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ NOBILITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ DISCOVERY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 17% (17/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ VEIL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)
※ EVIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ CURSE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)
※ MEMORY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WORLDS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 26% (26/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FAITH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)
※DREAMS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ ANCESTORS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ORIGIN  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LEGENDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ PAST-LIFE  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REINCARNATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)  (+2) 
 
 
 
  
     
forg99rules
 
 Stella felt a bit embarrassed as she listened to Zavriel speak about the proving years. Though she knew it was just a part of her life, hearing it spoken out loud still felt embarrassing. The feeling was fleeting; hearing how she might unconsciously destroy worlds or cause herself to aspect without trying caused worry to settle in her gut again. Stella once again glanced at the doorway, trying to set her feelings at ease by imagining what other abilities might await her inside. At the mention of Sircé, Stella's mind was pulled back to the present, a slight grin making itself known as she remembered the name that Ulbeelta had mentioned to seek out for training.   "Sircé is here then? That could prove useful, Ulbeelta had mentioned that I should seek her out and see if she would be willing to train me. Though he also mentioned that she might not be so inclined to while relieved of her retainer duties."   Stella looked down at the hand offered to her, reaching out she took it, hoping that was the correct move in the situation.   "Three-thousand doesn't sound so bad, I am curious though, you mentioned meaning to an Aspect. Ulbeelta explained a lot about aspects to me, but I don't think he ever mentioned that term."   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 32 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 19 ]  - Information on Tresk’ri-Chath
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 29 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 26 ]  - Curious about the fire in Zavriels hand
Perception: Taking 10, just wanting to check if I sense anyone around besides the two of us
 
Mornings
     
That name brought back a memory. Something ancient from a time she had long forgotten. Moments from another time. A much simpler time. Days from her mortal years. Briefly she could feel a bitter grin as she recalled her old wagon and life before she had begun to awake to her own power. In that twisted forest, somewhere in the Sandpoint Hinterlands of Golarion - before she had spited herself. Ruined her body, and plunged herself into this otherworldly nightmare. She had met a strange being…  Skullface , he had called himself. A pseudonym no doubt. He had called himself the Kindler of Tresk’ri-Chath.

Better known as the ‘World Fire’, it was a mythical thing said to be the origin of life. In the stories and prayers, Tresk’ri-Chath was represented as a magic flame. In Witchcraft it was described as a singularity, or event which introduced a unique force. Like the rapid and sudden expansion of the universe, it was an abstract and enigmatic thing studied in passing, but without any means of factually proving its existence. The Tresk’ri-Chath was mostly a thing studied by only the most studious academics or the most pious of the faithful who learned the sacred words. The only thing which was generally known was that the Blessed Mother of the First had shared the embers with the Otherworlds and shared life beyond the highest reaches of the Third World.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Failure] 
   
  1st Day of the 2nd Cycle - Time: 1st Bell / LC: 31,182
Jun'athel; L'Chandal - The Crucible
The Crucible Hall; Entrance Hall  
  ”Embrace this fire. Let its light illuminate your Fate.”    The flame which Zavriel presented was a curious thing. While Stella did not understand its nature, she knew what it was not. There was no heat, because there was no fire. There was no combustion of fuel and oxygen here. There was no physical process occurring before her eyes by which to fashion the fervent warmth which might burn a hand. The dark purplish light was deep and unnatural, twitching weirdly without the intervention of any breeze or movement. It was like a snippet clipped out from a newspaper and pasted over the world. A deviant phenomenon which drew itself from some deeper place.   ”It is the hope of every Aspect that it might pen the passage of its own life upon the pages of the Black Book. That a record of its life might make its existence true.”  

Stella understood then. The fire was not real. The ‘flame’ was a proverbial thing, but her mortal mind was incapable of processing the force presented before her now. So instead, it now took the form of this twisting blotted light burning in Zavriel’s clutches. It was like some incoherent and undefined thing, an indefinable force from which her gaze was made wanting and unworthy.   ”By this light, I may command the Rite of Transfiguration. So too may I offer many of the same services as the Tellers themselves.”   As Stella grasped the Witch’s hand, something tore through her physical body. It was as if, all at once, she had been ripped into a void. The great chasm of energy ripped and rended, cracks of black cavernous veins raced up her arm. She shattered, crumbled, and fell away. Another body revealed itself in her place, like a mayfly molting its very being. Shedding her old body, the ashes danced away like a cloud of white dust and she felt renewed. A quiet new sense slumbered inside her breast, a simple new power easily forgotten.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Failure]   [Kindler Exchange:-3,000 EXP] 

Zavriel closed her hand, snuffing out the flame.   ”It is done. I would recommend binding your more valuable talents and potentials to your Soul when possible. That way they might be transferable to future Aspects. Or at the least, you will have some degree of access to them, though this is largely going to be limited by the amount of Memory you possess. Try to accrue as much as you can and save your fragments for those more costly exchanges.”   The tall dog-faced woman sneered at the mention of that familiar cosmic shadow,   ”Yes, that’s about right. Sircé is a retainer of that stifling hound… but you’ve best mind your words. She was once Vet’Cnros, before her rebirth. Meaning, she’s as crazy as you and yours. A fact I highly recommend you avoid reminding her of. It does seem she enjoys her ‘down-time’, perhaps a little too much. Still, unlike the dog, she’s very receptive to bribery. I’m sure you could figure something out… provided the opportunity. It’s fairly busy inside…”   The Witch’s off-handed comments regarding Ulbeelta felt somewhat hypocritical given her own animal-like appearance.

Even despite the woman’s dog-face, she could see the Hexe frown,   ”Far be it from me to question the patience of the Dalhar D'Inlé, but I am not that dog. I am the most senior Hexe of this school of magic. You must understand the fundamentals before you will understand what I have to say.”  
   
  [Potential, General] Eschew Materials 
 You can cast many spells without needing to utilize minor material components. 
 Benefit:  You can cast any spell with a material component costing 1 gp or less without needing that component. The casting of the spell still provokes attacks of opportunity as normal. If the spell requires a material component that costs more than 1 gp, you must have the material component on hand to cast the spell, as normal. 
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/16 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 6/9 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮙  Spite : 0 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (199,117xp)   (⮸ +100),   (⮯ -6,276 Exp Cost)  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※ LEARNING  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ INSIGHT ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 10% (10/100 EXP)
※ SOVEREIGNTY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ NOBILITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ DISCOVERY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 18% (18/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ VEIL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)
※ EVIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ CURSE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)
※ MEMORY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WORLDS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 27% (27/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FAITH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 4% (4/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 12% (12/100 EXP)
※DREAMS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ ANCESTORS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ORIGIN  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 20% (20/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LEGENDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ PAST-LIFE  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REINCARNATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)  (+2) 
 
 
 
      
forg99rules
 
 Excitement filled her as she took the woman's hand, the feeling of her old form shedding causing her to shiver. As the sense of the new power settled into her, Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.   "Well, that was an interesting feeling."   Stella continued to listen to Zavriel speak, letting her mind wander over the words as she began to scan the surroundings slowly, a thought in the back of her mind that she had missed something from her initial scan of the area.   "Thank you for the assistance with that, it would have been dreadful to deal with what's inside if I couldn't cast... Speaking of binding things to my Soul, what sorts of things are able to be bound? Would something like the physical strength or dexterity of an aspect be something that could be bound? Can items also be bound to my Soul, or is that impossible?"   As she posed her questions to Zavriel, Stella continued with her scan of the area, trying to spot the thing that was tickling the back of her mind. 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 18 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 17 ]  - Trying to find out what sort of things can be bound to the Soul.
Perception: Taking 10 for  [20]  - Scanning the Surroundings and the entire manor to see if I can spot more of that light or anything else of interest.
 
Mornings
     Stella had been wrestling with the concept of Aspects for a long time. Longer then most people had lived apparently. At this point perhaps she was more like one of the great ponderers of a generation. The questions she has were seemingly fundamental, yet also not basic enough for even an average young Witch to understand.

These were the musings of great beings dwelling within the space-time of another reality, or abstract fields of study ventured by graduate Hexes; bright minds seeking to illuminate mysteries. The voices were not strong here, but there was general disagreement between them as she contemplated what could effectively be passed between incarnations of her own existence. While she didn't receive a concreate answer, she at least could affirm she was now asking the right questions. That was its on kind of victory.  [Stella: Knowledge Abstract - Failure] 
   
  1st Day of the 2nd Cycle - Time: 1st Bell / LC: 31,182
Jun'athel; L'Chandal - The Crucible
The Crucible Hall; Entrance Hall  

The lithe dog nodded as Stella took in the new-formed energy which suffused her being. As Stella spoke, Zavriel paused briefly, scratching her furry chin with her black glassy claws. Despite the difference in race, Stella could see the wheels turning in her mind, the Witch contemplating just exactly how much she should say - or rather, how much would actually be understood.   ”Hmm...”  

Zavriel turned away, one hand still at her chin while the other found its way behind her back. She turned a few absent-minded circles while her long tail comically swept the floor. Until finally,   ”Yes. Fair question... A good question.”  . The large Witch sharply turned back towards her,   ”Simply put. There's no simple answer to your question. At least not in its entirety to actually answer it truthfully. For what you might omit for simplicity, or mercy to the audience, wildly changes the perceived truth.”  

She crossed her arms as she continued,   ”To keep this at a level you might still understand, there is almost nothing which 'cannot' be bound to the soul. Be it items, or physical ability. Even what cannot be bound, can be bound. There are simply circumstances which must be resolved for various things. Similarly, its important to understand that  accessibility  to such soul-bound abilities is equally a matter of importance. Just because you've successfully bound it, that does not mean it is available to you... It's complex.”   After a moment Zavriel shrugged,   ”In this case, there is no fault on you here. These are not concepts commonly taught. Almost all Sunjath'la use of an Aspect revolves around simply keeping one to avoid damaging your prime aspect, either inadvertently while learning dangerous spells, or from malicious rivals. Killing is often a thing done with very little thought and without very many consequences, consequently. Eliminating a rival Witch rarely means you have been rid of them forever, when all you've done is destroy an aspect. This has certainly skewed and warped our kin's perception of life. After all, you can experience any number of lives you want over the course of your immortality.”  
  ”Regardless, the answer to your question really does merit a longer conversation. It just might not be a talk you're ready to have. You've lot your memories so it might be too difficult to follow. So for now, I think the best...  most complete  answer I can give you, is that there are no limits. Even if someone, like a Teller or Kindler says otherwise, the only true limit is the circumstance. Viability and availability are all reliant on what you've done to prepare to complete the binding of the particular thing in question. If you have something you'd like to have bound, it is probably best to speak with me.”  
  ”Also, I had a thought... You were seeking to meet with Sircé and convince her to teach you right? Well, you've lost your memories, yes? That means you no longer remember how to create Bygones, or at least I'm assuming that's something you haven't remembered. That was Sircé's primary vocation, and you were the only one second only to her in the art. Perhaps something of an unspoken successor. As she has put aside her past life as Vet'Cnros, you were the last Ur-Witch in that school of dark-magic. Not even Adessa was quite skilled in the art. This means that she is the last Bygone Witch despite now being a Witch of Kathe. That cannot be allowed to stand."

"It is perhaps the one thing she truly loves, other then curses. I'm sure she would take personal offense with there being no Veil Witch left who can carry on the art... Of course, I would under no circumstances admit this weakness to anyone else. It's perhaps one of your greatest insurances against your enemies, but if you explained this to her, I'm sure she might be convinced to teach you again having known your potential.”  

Stella's eye scanned the eerie quiet of the drifting dimensional island, many small lights danced before her eyes not far in the distance. The small dancing orbs of light bobbed and drifted until finally sharply being drawn to her direction. The spheres merged into a luminous cloud before being drawn into her body and the power took on a new shape.  [Stella: Perception - Success] 

A type of magic she had never experienced before.


   
   [Soul] Manashape Material, Lesser  
School transmutation (manashape); Level witch 0

 
 CASTING 
 
 Casting Time  1 move action
 Components  V, S
 MP  1 (varies)

 
 EFFECT 
 
 Range  personal
 Target  you
 Duration  until the next spell is cast (permanent until discharged)

 
 DESCRIPTION 
 

A rare piece of witchcraft from the ancient spells of a bygone and classical era; a golden age of magic. The art of Manashaped spells has long been abandoned by the cautious Hexe of Zhenu Magath, for this magic was often deemed far too dangerous for an average Witch to toy with haphazardly. The Sunjath'la did not understand the complexities or material-spells, or why some some components held meaning while others seemingly did not; but what was evident, was that failing to pay these libations to the nameless patrons and the Mados could incur incomprehensible peril to all existence.

Manashaping is highly respected in the hands of a prodigy, but generally elicits fear of becoming collateral damage in the hands of the unworthy. This spell allows the caster to ignore the material components of their next spell, provided those components do not have a specific cost. In exchange, the caster must pay an amount of additional MP equal to the spell level of the bypassed spell (minimum 1). The caster must pay the cost associated with the desired spell at the time of using this spell, but need not cast that spell. At the time of paying the respective cost, this spell becomes 'attuned' and may impact its benefit to any spell of a spell level equal to the cost already paid. The caster may not cast this spell again until the current attunement is either expended via use, or dismissed, a free action which wastes any expended MP used to attune it. Attunement functions similarly to 'holding the charge' and this effect remains primed indefinitely until dismissed or expended.

If the caster uses this spell to bypass the material components of a spell that has already benefited from Manashape Material, Lesser that day, the additional MP cost is doubled (e.g., a 2nd-level spell would cost 4 MP instead of 2). Each subsequent use doubles the additional MP cost again (e.g., the same previously doubled 2nd-level spell cost would now require 8 MP instead of 4). The additional cost resets at midnight or after 24 hours have passed, whichever comes first. The resetting of this spells costs does not dismiss any ongoing attunement which the caster might be holding, which persists indefinitely.


  Special:  A Witch which learns this cantrip has her MP pool size increase by 1 and her arcane aptitude increase by 2.

Some materials which are not meant to exist but are replicated by this spell may incur unforeseen circumstances or consequences. Similarly some material components in spells which are eschewed from the casting process might result in unexpected results or additional effects; this phenomenon is more common with Second and Third World magics.

After attuning this spell the caster generates a unique magical effect which creates a remarkable Witch's sigil specific to the type of Manashaping being used. This unique symbol is formed of luminous arcane energy and is known as a Shaper's Sign. The type of spell used is encoded, but plainly evident to other Shapers. Creatures without at least 1 rank in Revelation cannot attempt to decipher this spell, while those who do possess ranks in this unique skill learn which Manashape spell was cast on a successful DC 10 check. Paramortals, magic-races and being aware of Revelers and Unravelers may become hostile or fearful in the presence of a Shaper's Sign.

Spell's cast with a Manashaped component are evoked differently then their standard counterparts, as pieces of the source, or reality which forms the origin of the harvested material, are briefly ripped into the universe to forcefully call forth the desired spell.

Signs, Veils, other Manashapes and Nightmare Magic can alter or obscure many of the visual and telltale signs of Manashaped spells.  
 
 Spoiler: Character Advancement 
  CHARACTER STATUS  
  ⮙ Focus : 16/18 ¦  ⮙ Mana : 6/10 ¦  ⮙ Memory : 4 ¦  ⮙  Spite : 0 
 ※SEVERANCE EXPERIENCE : 2xp
 ※WEAVE EXPERIENCE : 175xp
 ※VEIL EXPERIENCE : 1,000xp
  STELLA'S EXPERIENCE   (199,317xp)   (⮸ +200),   (⮯ -6,276 Exp Cost)  
  STELLA'S INFLUENCES  
※ LEARNING  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)  (+3) 
※ INSIGHT ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ SOVEREIGNTY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ NOBILITY  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ DISCOVERY  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 22% (22/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ TRAVEL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 19% (19/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ VEIL  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)
※ EVIL  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ CURSE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 11% (11/100 EXP)
※ MEMORY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ WORLDS  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 28% (28/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※FATE ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 3% (3/100 EXP)
※TIME ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※FAITH ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)
※ASCENSION ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 5% (5/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※TRANSCENDENT ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ APPRENTICE  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 13% (13/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 2% (2/100 EXP)
※ ANCESTORS  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 14% (14/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ ORIGIN  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 21% (21/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ DIVINITY  ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 15% (15/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※DREAMWORLDS ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 1% (1/100 EXP)
※ LEGENDS  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 8% (8/100 EXP)
※ PAST-LIFE  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 23% (23/100 EXP)  (+1) 
※ REINCARNATION  ▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 6% (6/100 EXP)
※ CASTING TRADITION  ▰▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ 25% (25/100 EXP)  (+3) 
 
 
 
      
forg99rules
 Stella's face smirked slyly. The sight of Zavriel contemplating the answer to her question brought her joy. As the Witch suddenly turned back towards Stella, she couldn't help but straighten her spine to seem more tentative about the woman's words and actions. Stella listened intently to the woman, knowing that the information given to her would benefit her in the future. Her mind started to churn over the possibilities, binding items, and physical abilities to her soul, which would prove very useful should she create any aspects in the future. At Zavriel's mention of a form of magic that Stella and Sircé had previously had in common, taking a moment while listening, Stella searched her memory to see if there was anything regarding Bygones she could find.   "Hmm, so everything can be bound... interesting. I can see a lot of uses now for Aspects beyond just protecting the Prime Aspect... Though that makes me wonder what would happen with my situation, according to Ulbeelta, any aspect I create will be Prime Aspects of a Non-Prime Aspect, which makes me curious about how that works. Though that might have to be a conversation for another time, perhaps once the current problem is settled and I have trained some with Sircé, I will have enough knowledge to sit down with you and get some training from you. The idea of using my lost memories and Bygones to get her to teach me seems like my best bet to get her to teach me. At the least, it doesn't hurt to try."   A look of surprise took over Stella's face as her mind filled with this new type of magic. While Manashaping looked powerful, it also seemed very dangerous, considering how little mana Stella currently possessed. Scanning the area again for more of the orbs of light Stella began to wonder how she could gain more mana and increase the amount of mana that could be stored. 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 


Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 27 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 21 ]  - Infromation on Bygones
Know Abstract:  (1d20+12)[ 26 ]  or  (1d20+12)[ 25 ]  - Information on gaining mana and increasing its pool
Perception: Taking 10 for [ 20 ] - Scanning the Surroundings for more of those lights if there is any left
 