The Primeval Dark (IC)

**forg99rules** · 2020-05-30, 10:04 PM (ISO 8601)

Listening to the Hexe, questions kept popping up in her mind. She dared not open her mouth yet to ask them as she did not want to interrupt the woman fear and respect for the Witch kept her in line. She would instead hold them to herself and wait for the opportunity to arise to ask them. Still she was ever curious and took in her surroundings as they passed. Hearing that she was now a Servitor for the Hexe made her mind search for answers. She tried to remember if there were rules for Servitors and what benefits they gained from such a position. As the tea cup shattered in the Hexes hand her mind reeled back to the present. The sudden action taken against the Messenger put even more fear into her. If the Hexe could so easily shatter something within the Weave then she doubted there was anything she could do if the Hexe choose to end her. Returning again to listening to the woman she found the story told to be interesting. Though the way the Hexe spoke made it difficult to follow she still tried her best to understand what the woman was saying.

Her eyes turned to the hearth and watched as two men stumbled around to avoid some beast that was attacking them. Her attention followed the Hexe as she spoke and floated over where the mirror came into being. More questions came to her as she listened to the Hexe, She was to extract these Hosts somehow, and then Judge their mental competency. Though neither of those things did she at all know how she would be able to accomplish. Glancing back down at the hearth she watched as the men continued to try and survive against the beast. “I would be lying if I said that I understood everything that you just spoke. Or even if I said that I understood what it was you wanted me to do. I am not sure at all what a Herald is or exactly what function they exist for. Nor do I know how I would extract a Host from such a nightmare when I cannot even be considered competent as a Veilwitch currently. Hell, I can't even say I understand what the role of a Servitor is at this point in time.”

Turning her attention back to the Hearth she continued to watch the scenes unfold. She watched as they fought to survive, the question of what she could do to help them at all kept coming to her mind and yet her mind was not providing an answer.

Spoiler: OOC

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Perception: (1d20+15)[26]
Know Abstract: (1d20+32)[51] Information on rules for being a servitor if there are any
Know History: (1d20+22)[27] Information on rules for being a servitor if there are any
Know Abstract: (1d20+32)[37] Information on Heralds
Know Abstract: (1d20+32)[46] Information on what the Hexe did that made the messenger vanish
Know Abstract: (1d20+32)[49] Information regarding the mirror (if possible)
Know Abstract: (1d20+32)[49] Information regarding the Hearth (if possible)

**Stevesciguy** · 2020-05-30, 10:55 PM (ISO 8601)

Erik quickly staggered to his feet, head on a swivel as he frantically looked about the chamber. As he realized that there was no immediate danger, he relaxed his combat stance slightly - shortly before the previous moments dropped back into his consciousness with all the force and ceremony of a sack of bricks.

The glowing white ivy, the glassy chain stretching seemingly into infinity. The assault of memories as his hands moved themselves one over the other, pulling him into the blinding light. That name, hammering at the back of his skull. The colossal library, filled with more tomes than he could read within a hundred lifetimes. Talk of hosts, reclaimers, passages. Then the blackness again.

Watching his body take action through his eyes, without his control. A chamber slowly filling with that hateful blackened water, as the others desperately attempted to pound the door closed as the nightmares tried to break their way in. Kaslin changed, standing taller than even himself. And the light from his sword, the strange creation that had found him in that realm of endless glowing vines...

Somewhat brought back to the realm of the waking, Erik cautiously grabbed hold of the hilt. After a moment's hesitation, he slowly pulled it from the scabbard, the ghostly white flames reaching their full size and brightness. It took Erik a moment to realize what was wrong with the flame - for all the piercing white light the flames produced, they were empty of heat.

Erik finally tore his eyes away from his alien weapon to the haunting figure. His eyes briefly drifted to the child's corpse in the water. For a brief moment, he could hear the screams again.

He had walked through most of his life needing little direction beside his own. Had stared into the cold darkness of the Long Night unflinching, and after it had gone, worked to give others direction and purpose in the aftermath. The man for whom confidence was a given could only muster a single sentence:

"What in the Nine Hells was that."

It wasn't really a question. It was the words of a man who didn't know where or who he really was, and couldn't even begin to know what questions to ask, or where to look to find his way back.

For the first time, Erik Ragnok was lost.

**Mornings** · 2020-05-31, 01:05 AM (ISO 8601)

421st Day of the 1st Cycle - Time: 9th Bell / LC: 30,303
Jun'athel; L'Chandal - The Crucible
????????; ???????

Alicia was not proficient in all of the dealings and complexities of other Witch cultures which held no weight in Duvan, but she was familiar with Servitors. Unlike some particulars of magical society, it was a universal role held by all Witches regardless of origin. In its more base definition, a Servitor was simply an indentured servant. The arrangement was entirely contractual and mutually beneficial, at least for Servitor Contracts, which was how one became a Servitor... voluntarily. By their culture, there was also the odd but not unheard of punishment delivered by a noble House or the Coven, which a prisoner or other criminal of Duvan's person was furnished to an individual. This was how living criminals were handled, but their ownership was handled exclusively by the Witch-Knights serving as their Warden. This punishment was almost exclusive to high ranking Witches and respected nobles who stood above the law in private settings, but who held no immunity to the 'justice' of the city when faced with the scrutiny of public crimes. After all, there were very few living criminals within the city. What could not be resolved through the claiming of precious goods and knowledge, or demotion to the filth-covered refuse of the Low City, were simply executed.

Those were the only two options which a Witch might find herself as a Servitor, at least by common logic. However, as she had come to learn, Stella did not live her life even remotely in the realm of 'common logic'. The Servitor Pact was a gift from the Divine Houses, as was their magic, and anything else allowed to exist in the Three Worlds. So it would only make sense, that in theory the same Pact could be employed by any Child of said Houses. It was beyond the scope of anything they knew as fact. After all, many Witches of Duvan barely paid mind to the old faith. It was simply a theory, like an assertion of the natures of stars she couldn't see based on an observation of one she could. There was no facts truly backing the thought, only the Old Way. The blind faith in some impossible god-creatures whom paid them no heed. To Sunjath'la, magic was an exact science, not religion. [Alicia | Knowledge (Abstract) - Partial]

The situation unfolding before them, only seemed to further evidence of how little they had learned and how much they had lost. They knew nothing. To a proud and cultured Witch of Duvan like Alicia, the ramblings of Vet'Cnros and disgusting Ros'wussrun Witches were backward and medieval. Nothing fitting of the modern sensibilities of the world today. To Sunjath'la, the Old Way, the faith in the Houses was fairytale which simply explained what was known in Duvan as the Source. The origins of Second World magic. The Third World, the L'Lotha, the Worlds Betwixt, that was all nonsense. Even L'Dalharen were believed to be natural governing existential laws, but not living entities, divine Children born from the House. That had been legends which explained the systematic process of magic and reality.... That's what she had believed, like most of her people.

Now they were sitting in L'Chandal, the mythical realm where all energy and substance passed and was was reformed after death or destruction. Even the expended energy of a spell or any excess unnatural force which could not be balanced after manifestation was said to come here... Even in the teachings of the Old Way the realm was more of a fable than an actual place, with stories of it only passed between the most zealous and devout Witches. Alicia felt like her whole world was spinning out of control. Yes, there were roles named and functioning within the city based on the tales. It was more of a tip of the hat to those more primitive origins. A 'Herald' in Duvan was an honorable role granted by a noble house. A Herald typically was just that, a herald for a noble's affairs. That could be delivering messages, handling arrangements or social formalities. These noble Heralds could be dispatched to handle this business virtually anywhere, though typically their duties kept them within the city. The actual Heralds of legend, were supposedly entities assigned by Keepers whom were dispatched to anywhere in the Three Worlds and could commune with representatives of the Houses and Speakers on their Keepers behalf. At least, that was how it was understood. While there were entities known as 'Speakers', they were mostly unknown creatures whom had very little interaction with the mortal worlds. The Wheel and Council was also a concept, but it represented the 'divine right of kings' which the Coven preached so fervently. In Duvan, it was the cruel authority which justified their unlimited unquestionable power. Above all laws. Above all question. The ultimate authority.... because of the Wheel and Council. If there was actually some trans-dimensional elevated board of literal Gods assembled by a small child and her deer to bring balance to all corners of existence, that also happened to place the most evil, vile and corrupt Witches in charge of their civilization... Which she doubted mere moments before. She'd like to meet them. However, seeing as they had just met the Justice of Black... An actual mythical member of the Wheel. It was no longer possible to deny the reality before her. She couldn't dismiss it as mere Relicuum and their respective otherworldly realms... it was real. Too real, and that frightened her.[Alicia | Knowledge (Abstract) - Failure]

The both of them watched the exchange as the scene suddenly froze as Erik reached out to reclaim the key. "My, you are... Unreasonably lucky. Reclaimers now. They have unearthed... The source of, the corruption. You had introduced." The Hexe shifted away from the mirror hovering in place as if in contemplation. "Ultimately. This was an... exercise. More an opportunity... to learn. Than anything else. As... things like this. Can happen too. A Herald is... a courier. Retainer. Soldier. Envoy... Of the Keeper. You do... What I require. Of you. My hands in... The world. Heralds can move... Where permitted. But. That would defeat... The purpose. You do not... Learn. Veilmagic. From books. Navigating though veils... Is how you. Learn. To move. It appears that... Is unnecessary now. You should thank... These hosts. You were made... My Servitor. As you are... My ward. To teach." The Gran Hexe offhandedly pointed at the flame in a lazy fashion, quenching the fire while returning to her seat.

"As the situation... Has changed. So too does... Your task. You will go... Assist. Herald Bohka. She is Vet'Cnros... Like you. Though abandoned... the Veil Path. For a... Different magic. She will teach you. You will help... Return Ghlas."

Main Quest: The Wild Dark - Dreaming, The Nightmare King
A narrow escape from the plotting of the House of the First has only revealed an infighting between the L'Dalharen, with Alicia in the center of the conflict. Sentenced unto servitude, the Witch of Jun'athel now guides them forward unto the unknown to seek audience with the Nightmare King.
Difficulty: Moderate | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: None
Primary Objective:
- Acquire Arborization
- Depart L'Chandal
- ~~Escort The Keeper, Gran Hexe B'Belka'tevel~~

Main Quest: At The Gates of Sleep
Gran Hexe B'Belka'Tevel, finding Stella's actions as the root cause for the corruption seeping into the Veil of Jun'athel, has charged her with a monumental task. The preservation of the Veil and its hosts. Now nominated as a Servant-Herald, there was no other choice left before her but putting an end to the chaos her presence had ushered, once and for all.
Difficulty: Moderate | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: None
Primary Objective:
- Construct Wussrun'Khel Avatar
- Enter the World Veil

Spoiler: Rewards | EXP

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֍ Stella XP +800 (181,000xp)
⯎ Sovereignty Influence Gained
⯎ Nobility Influence Gained
⯎ Liberation Influence Gained
⯎ Community Influence Gained
⯎ Discovery Influence Gained
⯎ Travel Influence Gained
⯎ Wisdom Influence Gained
⯎ Occult Influence Gained
⯎ Veil Influence Gained
⯎ Evil Influence Gained
⯎ Nightmare Influence Gained
⯎ Curse Influence Gained
⯎ Defense Influence Gained
⯎ Justice Influence Gained
⯎ Memory Influence Gained
⯎ Worlds Influence Gained
⯎ Fate Influence Gained
⯎ Time Influence Gained
⯎ Faith Influence Gained
⯎ Ascension Influence Gained
⯎ Guilt Influence Gained
⯎ Hated Influence Gained
⯎ Subservient Influence Gained
⯎ Transcendent Influence Gained
⯎ Apprentice Influence Gained
⯎ Duty Influence Gained
⯎ Servitude Influence Gained
⯎ Dreams Influence Gained
⯎ Acquired [Strange Item]
✦ Corrupted Fate (Ra'Dolfaal)
⯎ Gem of Telepathy: 3/5 Charges, 3 min duration - Identified use with UMD

SpellWeaving:
Successfully casting a Spellweave costs the Witch a number of focus points equal to Spell Level + 1.
The Witch may attempt a number of Spellweaving Checks per day equal to her Aptitude.

Alicia HP: 8 (13) / 22
Istrei'D'Val Barrier: 450/450
Focus: 27/28
Mana: 1/10
Reputation: 25
Memory: 3
Spite: 1
Honor: 311
SV. Exp: 2 (Severance)
Weave Exp: 175
Veil Exp: 1,000

Spoiler: The Reflected Alter

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Praying at the alter requires a Spell Focus check and 1d8 hours of uninterrupted meditation to establish a connection with the herald. Alicia receives no way of judging the success or failure of her attempt. Cumulative penalties are applies for very 4 hours of meditation taken from loosing focus over a prologed period of time. These penalties stack with conditions accrued from other sources such as starvation or dehydration.

Spoiler: Alicia Kelgore - Conflicted Mind

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Alicia and Stella must maintain a constant state of balance to stay in harmony with one another, however doing this is not a simple task as the Veil evolves. Alicia will progressively shift in alignment as the Veil grows and the two personalities shift further and further apart from one another, prompted by various Spell Focus checks while both performing magic and having new experiences which the Veil attempts to adapt into the persona's fabricated history. Furthermore the Veil is capable of enforcing its own canonical history as if by means of a Divergence. At the beginning and end of each day both persona's must make an opposed spell focus check, granting advantage to the victor for the next 8 hours. The persona with advantage gains a +5 circumstance bonus to all other checks against the other identity. If Stella begins to fail more and more checks her control of Alicia will begin to diminish, introducing new influences or opposing actions which she must succeed an ego check to interrupt. Further effects from the Veil may be acquired from constant failed checks. This Veil may be dismissed by revisiting the mirror and spending 1 minute in meditation.

**Mornings** · 2020-05-31, 07:23 PM (ISO 8601)

Faux Paw

Main Quest: Waking, A Song of Mourning and Light
Hellish screams were all that had become familiar within this nightmarish dreamscape. The only certainty which pervaded the mind was the knowing, that a dream, no matter how horrid, was still just a dream. Even the pain was distant here. Numbing and dazing, and sharp. Yet with each passing moment, it seemed like the claws grew sharper, and the gloom, more deep. Even they, the nightmares, patiently waited, as if aware of their own imaginary state. Still, they smiled. Dark laughter as they attempted to bury you. With each passing moment, it felt as if the dream were becoming more real... It threatened to even overcome your sense of reality. Everything within screamed out, that should you idle for long, you would never return... yet you were compelled to stay, to see something more, because something was coming. Even without you, somewhere the nightmare still churned beneath the surface. Even without you, it would come back to drown out the real, but perhaps somewhere in this some secret remained. A clue to ending the wretchedness rising up to pervade this world.
Difficulty: Unknown | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: 1/4 Rounds
Primary Objective: Unknown

His breath was beginning to become heavy and strained, his movements more sluggish. It had been some time now wandering the sewage passages below the city. The burden of the filth and gore wasn't making it any easier, but neither the knight nor the filthy stranger seemed to pay much mind to the circumstances. Now that Faux took a moment, he noticed their newly acquainted company was hardly clean himself. Despite his age, the old man had a lithe honed physique, with dried bloody filth from his hands to his elbows. Evidently they had not had it easy below ground as well. "Sounds right, eh. Names' Moral Blue. Im'a killa'. Damn gud at ett too, ye? If ya' in da' business of needin' somethin' ded, ask 'round. Ya'll find meh. Giv'ya ah gud price too, ye." Alice sneered, "No use peddling death, Mr. Blue. I will see you back behind bars, or in the ground when this chaos is settled."

Blue snorted in retort, "Girlie, aint gonna beh no 'after'. No law. No bars. Just killin'. This aint no incident, it'da future. Things like'da big'ol boy in da' sky dun jus come-an-go. Da world changin'. Ya best learn teh change wit'it." The dame shook her head dismissively, evidently unconvinced. Yet, the man's broken raspy words seemed to hold weight. Nothing like this could simply unfold then turn around as if it had not happened at all. The scars which rocked humankind here today would change life after, even if the hoard could be defeated. The fires swept through the city and blighted the ground and fields beneath waves of mud and gory mass. Water was blighted and food spoiled. Magnimar would be inhospitable for decades at least. No one could predict the implications on life and business with the fall of one of the three major city states.

A sudden wave of pain struck him. Faux could feel his vision shake and blur. His world was beginning to spin. A heat started its slow creep up his finger tips and in his cheeks. A prickling tangling sensation... like a lightning bolt passing too close. Like static. Black. He could feel his strength beginning to wane, sapped from his limbs. A sharp twist, a lurch right. Faster and faster, the world was beginning to rotate out of his control until his legs buckled. The old man caught him offhandedly, "Oi, kid! Whatcha on'a bout?" "The bleeding?" Venerable assassin shook his head as Faux begun to feel a shaking fill his hands. "Nawh. Still gots color... Somethin' else tearin' 'im up." Mr. Blue grabbed one of his wrists, lifting up his arm for them all to see. Transparent. Faux could clearly see though his own numbed shaking hand. It was as clear as glass. "Awh, fawk..." [Status | Faux - Stunned 1 round]

A sudden shade begun to sweep over his vision. It ebbed and pulled. The shadow of water rushing past. He could feel it threatening to sweep him away. A cloud was beginning to descend in his mind as if he would simply disappear at any moment, "Oi, kid! Did'ya go back, or forward!? How'd ya get here!?" Alice looked back and forth between the growing transparency spreading across Faux's body and the old man, "What are you talking about, what's happening?" The old man shook the man's clear hand for her to see, as if it explained itself. "Ah Returner, hes'a bloody Returner! Atleast one'a us is trapped, but dunno which. Somethin' somewhere broke an' sent da kid teh dis moment. Not jus' any time. Gotta be important, ye."

A soft clap cut through the air keenly, splitting the silence and the eerie shadows. They both looked up toward the unexpected sound. "That's enough, Mr. Blue. You know better than to meddle in our affairs." The man's face filled with a sudden shock, "Lady Black!? Forgive'da behavior. Dis ol'man's curiosity just ran off, ye. Sorry teh keep ya waitin' so long." The haunting woman raised a hand as if to dismiss the conversation. "This child's time here has merely come to a close. Now come now, Mr. Blue. You've cost enough of my time. Bring you guest." The haunting being was a figure sculpted of a black mist, shaped like an older woman with a long black dress and features obscured by a long funeral veil. Lady D'Aritel looked down at Faux, "What about-" Blue looked up at the dame, shaking his head silently as he slowly placed his down upon the stone. He learned down, stuffing an object into Faux's shaking fist. "Sorry, kid. Don't trust da' man'in white. No deals. Demand da Grim. No compromises." [Item | Faux - Otherworldly Token]

With that the old man rose up, gesturing for the knight to follow. Alice, evidently confused, but too shaken by the strange woman in black nodded at Faux apologetically as she followed. After a moment the procession vanished into the dark. Then there was only the silence, and the growing shade of the ebon waves rising up about him. [Faux | Stability Check - Will Save (DC 10) Vs End Dream-Effect]

Spoiler: Status: Drenched

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Drenched
Liquid drenches the character’s body, soaking the clothing and increasing the weight of the items. Characters that are inflicted with this status effect have their carrying weight increased by 10 lbs. In addition, while under this status effect, any lightning spells and effects inflict an additional 1d6 points of lightning damage. However, any fire spells and effects that deal fire damage remove the status effect. By spending 1 round, the character can also remove the wet clothing as well to remove the status effect. Certain abilities may stack this condition multiple times, inflicting a scaling weight increase, but no other changes to this condition's effects unless stated otherwise.

[Current Weight: +20 lbs]

Spoiler: Potential - Nine Lives & Illusion

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13 Nightmares - Distortion I: Nine Lives & Illusion
Things that should not be have surrounded you. Places long gone from times forgotten. The burdens of such experiences you've carried in silence, even when buried by the blighted corpses of men that had never lived. These twisted and fragmented pieces of the world should have been swept away. Deleted with the rest of the corruption. Now they blackened small spaces beneath the surface, rotting and corroding places in reality which were whole. Somehow, you'd survived longer than possible in these horrid memoryscapes, and now your secrets gave you ability beyond explanation. An anomaly that should not be.

Benefit: This ability may be activated as a free action which may be taken during any round. The Dreamer may select any one location they have visited since acquiring this potential if they have not done so already. Using this ability displaces the Dreamer from their current physical location, and into an altered dreamscape resembling the location they had chosen. The duration is determined randomly and cannot be ended until this period expires. If the Dreamer survives until the end of the duration or is slain, they are returned to a random location within one divergence of the world they were removed from. In the event the Dreamer is slain, he suffers 1d6 points of wisdom drain. If certain circumstances are met a dreamscape may be cleared. Once a dreamscape is chosen, it may not be changed again until cleared. This ability may only be activated a maximum of 9 times, however upon clearing a dream an additional use of this potential is granted. The Dreamer may take a number of willing creatures they maintain physical contact with them into this dream-state equal to their HD. If the dreamer clears nine dreamscapes he gains the Blessing of the Nightmare King potential. The Dreamer's maximum HD increases by 1.

Spoiler: Status

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֍ Faux +1,500 (8,000xp)
HP 15/33 (2 bleed)
⭍ [Nonlethal Damage] 3
⭍ [Cursed Wound] 2 Bleed, DC 22 Heal (full-round action)
⭍ [Wounding Curse] Fast Healing & Regeneration Disabled. Cannot Heal Grievous Wounds. Cannot Recover Hit-Points. Harms Others. Cure Unlearned.
AC 19
Extra Effort Used: 2/6
⯎ Survival Influence Gained
⯎ Freedom Influence Gained
⯎ Tactics Influence Gained
⯎ Death Influence Gained
⯎ Curse Influence Gained
⯎ Magic Influence Gained
⯎ Time Influence Gained
⯎ Doom Influence Gained
⯎ Truth Influence Gained
⯎ Dreams Influence Gained
⯎ Intrigue Influence Gained
⯎ Nightmare Influence Gained
⯎ Otherworld Influence Gained
⯎ Omens Influence Gained
⯎ Night Influence Gained
⯎ Knowledge Influence Gained
⯎ Insight Influence Gained
⯎ Paths Influence Gained
⯎ Sickness Influence Gained
⯎ Slaughter Influence Gained
⯎ Agility Influence Gained
⯌ Acquired [Clear Dagger] - Unidentified

**forg99rules** · 2020-05-31, 08:21 PM (ISO 8601)

He ignored the ramblings of the Orc, as it appeared to have lost its mind, instead he went to turn his attention to the woman who was having some sort of issue. The sudden pain causing him to collapse was a shock, he did not even notice the woman recover herself before he was taken by some unseen force. He had heard stories of phychic attacks, though he had yet to even experience one himself. It was a new experience for him though not a pleasant one if he was to be honest. Steeling his mind against the pain he found it to quickly subside. Standing up from where he had slumped he turned to follow after the woman and mage. Meeting the woman's gaze, “That was unpleasant, hopefully whatever just assaulted my mind doesn't come back for another attempt. Any ideas as to where we are or who that mage is? Oh, I don't believe that I caught your name.” As he moved forward following the path in the snow made by the mage, he kept his eyes open for any danger that lurked in the area surrounding them.

Spoiler: OOC

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(Rolled OOC)
Stability Check: Will Save - (1d20+10)[25]
Stability Break: Fort Save - (1d20+10)[29]

Perception check: (1d20+19)[27]

**Triskavanski** · 2020-05-31, 10:27 PM (ISO 8601)

Sheet

Faux stumbled, going on little more than grit and determination at this point, but things were cooling down and adrenaline was wearing off. For a moment he was silent until he looked to his hand, able to see through it "I... I don't need.. anyone dead.. need them to fall in love.. to kiss, or I'm history.." he says almost deliriously as he begins slumping back against the wall. Dealing with people was generally pretty easy. Dealing with this on the other hand was a different matter, especially as he could now see through it. He didn't know if he'd be done in here, in a completely meaningless death, just one of many who died... whenever, where ever, how ever he was currently at. "I'm.. not getting married yet... I'm still.. uh.." He mutters before everything went black. A little spark of light flickering in the darkness. The lich. Thats right, long ago in a distant land there was a lich. A lich who created jewels containing pieces of his soul that he gave to his minions. That was why Faux Paw became a thief in the first place was to steal those gemstones, and destroy them and the lich. many of them have traded hands, far and wide, some lost to collectors of jewels, disguised to be non-magical rocks. He still hadn't taken down the lich himself, in fact, he was only just beginning his journey before.... something happened.

Spoiler: Spoiler

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(1d20+10)[20] will save

**Chromascope3D** · 2020-06-01, 03:52 PM (ISO 8601)

Kazik
The Hanging Men

Kazik reeled as Erik spoke, clutching his skull, wincing with each pulse, every syllable like a vice tightening against his skull. How loud he was, did the brute need to shout, to bellow so? Where was he? How long had he been here? Who were these others? Why had they been in his visions? Ah! The visions, years upon years, playing out before him in real time, yet compressed, condensed in one tiny fragment of a moment. He needed time to process, to understand, to chew, to digest, and the din surrounding, enveloping him did little to help. The low, rhythmic roar of blackened waves, the whimpering of this sorry crew, the bellowing of his... companion? Yes, he supposed that was a word. The only ones who'd had enough thought to speak at any reasonable level was the elf and the... the...

He felt her stare upon him. Of course the man knew of the creature, not a man alive hadn't heard the tales. He dared not look up, dared not face her. His hand ran across the steel that clad his visage. It was not the same metal, not the same prison mask that he had borne momentary years prior. This was smooth. Ornamented. When did you become sentimental? He could not say.

Kazik's right hand was heavy. He opened his eyes, considered the cruelly barbed links shackled to his wrist. He could not help but be curious, but more so, this feeling soon gave way to another, more potent feeling. A longing, an aching, a yearning. How long had it been? How long since the raw iron danced and snaked crimson across his flesh? With so little discipline, what would keep him from doing something... stupid?

Bit by bit, the pounding in his ears began to subside, as his eyes narrowed and gazed upward to behold the living god. Unconsciously, he felt something new welling up from below, a low thrumming, a growl?

What indeed...?

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Age (1d3+3)[5]
Experience Lost (1d6)[6]

Kazik is now 27 and loses 3000 XP

Skill checks
Perception (1d20+17)[36]
Sense Motive (1d20+17)[35]
Intimidate (1d20+17)[25]

Spoiler: Stats

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Kazik
Human Sentinel (Darkness Defender) LN
Scorn 14
Focus Points: 10/10
Reserve Points 5/5
Martial Focus Yes
HP 92 / 92 Speed ft Init 8 AC 22 Fort 10 Ref 9 Will 8 CMB +10 BAB 5 +1 Chain Whip +13 (+11) (1d3+8 (1d3+12) {+10}, x2)
Throwing Knives +12 (1d4+2, x2)
Dagger +12 (+10) (1d4+2, 19-20/x2) Str 20 (5) Dex 24 (7) Con 16 (3) Wis 16 (3) Int 14 (2) Cha 9 (-1)
Boons
Martial Focus

Conditions

**Mornings** · 2020-06-01, 07:54 PM (ISO 8601)

Faux Paw

(Complete) Main Quest: Waking, A Song of Mourning and Light
Hellish screams were all that had become familiar within this nightmarish dreamscape. The only certainty which pervaded the mind was the knowing, that a dream, no matter how horrid, was still just a dream. Even the pain was distant here. Numbing and dazing, and sharp. Yet with each passing moment, it seemed like the claws grew sharper, and the gloom, more deep. Even they, the nightmares, patiently waited, as if aware of their own imaginary state. Still, they smiled. Dark laughter as they attempted to bury you. With each passing moment, it felt as if the dream were becoming more real... It threatened to even overcome your sense of reality. Everything within screamed out, that should you idle for long, you would never return... yet you were compelled to stay, to see something more, because something was coming. Even without you, somewhere the nightmare still churned beneath the surface. Even without you, it would come back to drown out the real, but perhaps somewhere in this some secret remained. A clue to ending the wretchedness rising up to pervade this world.
Difficulty: Unknown | Status: On-going | Profit: Memory Pool | Time: 0/4 Rounds
Primary Objective: Unknown

The turning of the world. The crash of mixing broken shapes and colors. The blur. His own broken words. It all blended together in some unfathomable crushing mass of sound and movement, even he. Faster and faster. Brighter and brighter. Until it all begun to pull away from him. The circle. The cycle. Whirling about him at incredible speed. White. It was the first time the darkness had ever been pulled away, and not filled with that frightful dreadful red. It stretched on forever. The infinite pale light. Drifting. Bathed in the hallow glow. He felt himself beginning to mend. [Recovery | Faux - All Status Aliments, Damage & Negative Effects Inflicted From The Tutorial Are Recovered or Removed]

He lay there, in the field of white. It was cold. The soft tickle of frost kissed his nose. A hand gently stroking his face. Something called out to him, but it was so far away. So distant he couldn't even make out the words. The moments blurred. Perhaps only seconds. Perhaps years. The light slowly begun to fade and diminish. Retreating into his breast like some dying solar archon. "Wake up..." It was still so faint... yet a voice broke through the silence. Gentle and warm. Like lightning, it struck again. "Wake up..." With shattering force his mind came crashing back into reality.

A woman stared down at him. Her skin was like dusk, but her hair was so stark, it was whiter than snow. His head was cradled in her arms, but his body buried in the thick slushy frost. The stranger's clothes were deathly white, even her strange witchy hat. Creeping banks of coiling fog churned and roiled by. Eerie pale specters drift through the mist, faces obscured by ghastly shrouds, paying them no mind. It wasn't simply a snowy field. The shadows of dark structures all around them in the distance dotted the horizon of what little visibility he had. "So strange... How did you end up so far away?" The young woman stood up, plucking up her pale staff which had been plunged into the snow at her side. "Come quickly. I will guide you back." [Trait | Memory Pool - You gain a memory pool. The ability to retain Memory Points and begin with 1 point of Memory.]

(Potential Acquired) Sleepless - Nightmare Traveler I
You have ventured further than most through realms best left untread and forgotten. While the burden upon your sanity and heart has been heavy, you are more resilient to its cruelty.
Benefit: The Sleepless gains a +8 bonus to all saves and checks made in any dreamscape or Dreamworld. If he would fail a save in such a place, he may choose to ignore the results of his previous save. If he chooses to do so, he rolls 2d20 while attempting the save a second time. If the save is successful he gains immunity to that effect for 1 hour. Activating this ability costs the Sleepless a number of experience points equal to 350 x the save's DC. He may attempt to use this ability multiple times against the same save should his attempt fail, however the multiplier of the experience point cost is doubled with each subsequent activation. The Sleepless' maximum HD increases by 3. (Note: Loosing all experience points within a Dreamworld could be extremely detrimental, or lead to death.)

Spoiler: Potential - Nine Lives & Illusion

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13 Nightmares - Distortion I: Nine Lives & Illusion
Things that should not be have surrounded you. Places long gone from times forgotten. The burdens of such experiences you've carried in silence, even when buried by the blighted corpses of men that had never lived. These twisted and fragmented pieces of the world should have been swept away. Deleted with the rest of the corruption. Now they blackened small spaces beneath the surface, rotting and corroding places in reality which were whole. Somehow, you'd survived longer than possible in these horrid memoryscapes, and now your secrets gave you ability beyond explanation. An anomaly that should not be.

Benefit: This ability may be activated as a free action which may be taken during any round. The Dreamer may select any one location they have visited since acquiring this potential if they have not done so already. Using this ability displaces the Dreamer from their current physical location, and into an altered dreamscape resembling the location they had chosen. The duration is determined randomly and cannot be ended until this period expires. If the Dreamer survives until the end of the duration or is slain, they are returned to a random location within one divergence of the world they were removed from. In the event the Dreamer is slain, he suffers 1d6 points of wisdom drain. If certain circumstances are met a dreamscape may be cleared. Once a dreamscape is chosen, it may not be changed again until cleared. This ability may only be activated a maximum of 9 times, however upon clearing a dream an additional use of this potential is granted. The Dreamer may take a number of willing creatures they maintain physical contact with them into this dream-state equal to their HD. If the dreamer clears nine dreamscapes he gains the Blessing of the Nightmare King potential. The Dreamer's maximum HD increases by 1.

Spoiler: Status

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֍ Faux +3,500 (11,500xp)
HP 33/33
AC 19
⯎ Survival Influence Gained
⯎ Freedom Influence Gained
⯎ Tactics Influence Gained
⯎ Death Influence Gained
⯎ Curse Influence Gained
⯎ Magic Influence Gained
⯎ Time Influence Gained
⯎ Doom Influence Gained
⯎ Truth Influence Gained
⯎ Dreams Influence Gained
⯎ Intrigue Influence Gained
⯎ Nightmare Influence Gained
⯎ Otherworld Influence Gained
⯎ Omens Influence Gained
⯎ Night Influence Gained
⯎ Knowledge Influence Gained
⯎ Insight Influence Gained
⯎ Paths Influence Gained
⯎ Sickness Influence Gained
⯎ Slaughter Influence Gained
⯎ Agility Influence Gained
⯎ Travel Influence Gained
⯎ Cold Influence Gained
⯎ Struggle Influence Gained
⯎ Grit Influence Gained
⯎ Fortitude Influence Gained
⯎ Determination Influence Gained
⯎ Regret Influence Gained
⯌ Acquired [Clear Dagger] - Unidentified

**Mornings** · 2020-06-01, 10:55 PM (ISO 8601)

Main Quest: My Father Will Guide Me Up A Ladder To The Sky
The future was bleak. Awakening from the dream, Kazik and Erik woke to find a tragic broken world. With countless memories and years lost between them, the realization of the cruelty delivered by the magics employed against them finally begins to sink in. It was a malice beyond words, and loss beyond comprehension, where not even the awareness of it was allowed to persist... Only the emptiness. The depravity of the void which had slain every passion, every dream, every inspiration and moment that could be treasured by a mortal heart. The men they had been were dead now, in perhaps a far truer sense than any corpse could know. In some men's hearts burned the vengeance of the crippled and the wronged. In others rose the courage to let go. There were no easily won truths reclaimed from this blighted and wild dark. Here there were no words and no thoughts which escaped its thieving hand.
Difficulty: Easy | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: None
Primary Objective: Return to Ashurbanipal
Alternate Objective: Return to the Veil

22nd of Neth, Sunday | Time: 11:22pm | AR 4713 (Winter)
Varisia; Sandpoint Hinterlands
Point 323a; Ulbeph - Somewhere Below the Ruins

It wasn't just the unreal displacement. Rather quickly both men realized there was an evident 'sphere' which they stood in. A large, perhaps fifty-foot radius around the horrid creature. The very color itself was seemingly sucked out from the world, stolen from the walls and denizens whom found themselves within that desecrated domain. As the feral urges took root in Kazik's mind, a sudden hand grasped his shoulder. The only other person besides Erik and himself that could move. The elf, Ryott Sparrow. Her words were harsh but spoken under her breath, evidently perturbed both by his behavior and their circumstances. "...Easy."

From the masked man's side, Sparrow cleared her throat, addressing Erik. "...Sir Ragnok. While I cannot answer that in full with my limited knowledge, perhaps I can shed some light on our recent encounter... If Hexe Allessa has no grievance." The Witch didn't respond, merely exhaling dismissively with her back turned, as if it were a response. Kazik's eyes darted about, now adjusted to the colorless expanse before him. Another girl. A child floating in the water. Oh. He knew her. All the memories were jumbled and faded, but he recalled how they had left Willowbrook together. Had they traveled together for so long? The question raised questions, questions which he knew deep down in his heart would now never be answered. Her body floated lifelessly in the water, half her face smashed as if it were petrified stone. Bits of crumbled fragments from the insides of her skull bobbed in the soft ebb of the water. "...Easy." [Kazik | Perception / Intimidate / Sense Motive - Partial]

Machari Has Died

"As was our goal, we sought to find the source of the corruption below the sanitarium. However, as we proceeded it was revealed... the 'heart' of this terrible place was, dimensionally displaced." The Surveyor's voice briefly cracked, but she proceeded with her sterile explanation as if nothing were wrong. Kazik understood then, looking beyond the sphere then back to the waters lapping at his knees. It wasn't black. Not really. The thick smell of iron and filth choking in the back of his throat only served to redouble his assertion. His gaze happened to catch a red haired young woman beginning to sink below. At least, the half of her which remained. He didn't know her name. At least, he was fairly certain he never learned it, or perhaps never asked. Yet he knew her as some manner of acquaintance, perhaps for a number of years. Whatever the nature of their curious nameless relationship, it had been enough. Sparrow cleared her throat once more. [Kazik | Perception / Sense Motive - Success]

Regina Carnem Has Died

"This displacement... was caused by a Collapse which subsequently joined various parts of destroyed regions from other points to this one. Leading to the creation of this point... 323b. Beneath the original corrupted point." At times her voice begun to shake, yet she managed to retain her professional bearing. It was as if she were giving a presentation before a large crowd. He could feel his body tense as he eyed bits of gray cranial matter, a disembodied eye. The body of an orc. Unrecognizable as the corpse had its head completely crushed by something unreasonably powerful, but it was unmistakable. Not far from the remains, a pair of small severed legs bobbed idly. Their pale skin gleamed unnaturally in the faint light of Erik's sword. There was no other evidence to hint that other, more salvageable remains, existed at all. Though by the cruel looking teeth-like lacerations which had separated the thighs from its waist, Kazik doubted that there was. "...Easy." The words were strained, and came out with a small bit of spittle. The elf gently coiled her neck while swallowing, as if choking down a pill. Her eyes stayed level with Erik as she softly continued. [Kazik | Perception / Sense Motive - Success]

Varag Chalk Has Died

Loimi Vaeltaja Has Died

"Further investigation by myself, and... Mr. Crofte, uncovered the true nature of this distortion... And the ultimate source of the corruption. This inquiry revealed that there existed a supposed, 'dead space', within this Sector. A region completely isolated from all others, with no known mode of entrance or exit for material creatures. Only.... corrupt energy, was capable of passing between the boundaries. Of this space..." There were odd pauses as the elf spoke, as she closed her eyes and regathered her composure before continuing her explanation. Of course, Kazik understood her moments of hesitation. The limbs and other unidentifiable fistfuls of minced gore which quietly floated in the water and rebounded off their knees was enough to break anyone's concentration. While it was difficult to recognize a flayed body stripped of most of its skin and absent an arm and leg, he knew. The man had been an artist. A painter with the scalpel and lancet. Perhaps one of the most skilled sowers of pain and agony he'd met. To call what little of the man he remembered a mere torturer, would have been to compare a masterful sculptor to a simple butcher. While the memories were gone, he felt it inside and between those smallest flickering fragments of thought stolen from him. He'd known him since the sanitarium. Perhaps long after. Perhaps they had been... Something. Yet now this curse had even robbed him of the memory of the painter's face or name. [Kazik | Perception / Sense Motive - Success]

Miryks Has Died

Of course, he doubted the grizzly sight of the murdered artist was what had shaken the Surveyor the most. "With... Little options, we provided the results of our appraisal to the Blanchard Manor... and, my acquaintance. Professor Mayvert. She and, her colleague, Professor Reccu resolved that a new expedition would be needed...Ehm. To discover a means to either cause a limited collapse, or enable a member to cross this threshold. At Lord Reyen's request, Hexe Allessa assisted us with this task... Allowing. A-Allowing, our minds to traverse the boarder... With little or no risk to the expedition's members...." The woman's hand was subtly beginning to shake as she grasped Kazik's shoulder. Little or no risk. He couldn't help but look at the clawed mangled body of Balin, so disgustingly twisted and contorted... Limbs folded in on themselves in gross odd angles, chest spun about twice as if it were clay. Perhaps the sight weighed more, as he was present to witness his final moments before the fall. Perhaps not. Still, it was impossible not to feel that out of all the littered about in the macabre display, it was Walt's face which was the most unsettling. His glassy eyes stared off into the infinite spanning darkness. There were no wounds. No bruises or vicious marks. Though cloaked in the pale of death, it almost appeared like the man was... at peace. [Kazik | Perception / Sense Motive - Success] [Status (Kazik) | Burdened - 1 Point of Wisdom Damage]

Balin Crofte Has Died

Walt Kincaid Has Died

The elf was noticeably shaking now, trembling in place. Her words occasionally broken by nauseated sobs. Kazik hadn't noticed the thick smear of gore running down her face and between her breasts. The sickly filth permeating their cloths with the vile stench of death. "W-We... We... Entered, the... dead space. B-But.... Something.... something. Something else was there. Something else... It's.... It was... It w-was... A prison." With her last effort... she choking out the words again. "...It was a prison!" Sharply she pulled away from Kazik, spewing the contents of her stomach out in a stream into the water. Yes. This was the horrid reality. The horrible true face of reality.

The Witch's sharp and slow clapping broke the tense silence, "Al'xu zha dos'st il'yr. Well done, Surveyor. In remembering that much at least. Does that answer your question well enough, man-human?" The Witch had still yet to turn and face them, as if the gesture was too much of a nuisance. Her rasping voice struck with the grace of a sledgehammer and the magically charged force of burning nails being hammered into their eardrums. It was physically painful, even with such space between them. [Status (Kazik) (Erik) | The Whisper - 2 Points of Nonlethal Damage]

Waving her hand off to the side, two door-sized spaces were ripped out of existence with a violent concussive force. It was as if an explosive wave of air ruptured through the chamber. One door was dark, while the other shined with a dim white glow, shedding a gout of illumination into the grisly chamber. The sight made the Surveyor recoil and cover her eyes with a slight yelp. "You've the right to choose. White to return to your pathetic human lives. Black to return to the Passage."

**Mornings** · 2020-06-03, 12:24 AM (ISO 8601)

Regina couldn't recall the specifics of the Mortfield family. After all, they weren't nobles or particularly wealthy. The only significant notable history she could recall related to the diligence of the priestly house. Loyal and devout men and women of Pharasma's church. The humble household held ancient roots to their home in the county of Vieland. Much of their efforts were spent tending to local places of worship and grave sites, including their own family graveyard. The Mortfield priests were highly respected for their unbroken tradition in honoring the Lady of Graves, and providing services to those in need. Yet... a number of minor rumors did circulate about the household. Some whispered that the family's long standing presence in Vieland dated back to a secret age-old doctrine, or an oath to guard the land. While other ramblings suggested they were actually sentinels of a hidden cult whom ensured no man could uncover the secrets of Vieland's nameless monoliths. [Regina | Knowledge (Nobility) - Partial]

Pausing briefly to think on it. 4166. That... shouldn't have been correct. Right? That was so long ago, the grave would have been created during the Age of Enthronement. Over four and a half centuries before the beginning of the modern Age. Before the death of Aroden. The burial site had looked almost pristine other than minor weathering. If she had been told the headstone was only five years old, then she would have believed it. Perhaps the family might have come from a venerable line of descendants, yet that particular grave hardly seemed like the oldest. It seemed unfeasible that such a site, this particular burial site, had existed since the rise of the man-god, or perhaps all the way back into the Age of Darkness. She didn't know what it was, but something was amiss. [Regina | Knowledge (History) - Partial]

As the short Offworlder begun to follow behind, Regina took note of the unusual Wizard's methods. While the snow was melted aside by the man's spell, his movements also appeared magically hastened. It wasn't a mere aura of warmth or some manner of field to clear the frost. It appeared to be far more sophisticated than that. While the nature or identity of the spell itself eluded her, she had noticed a small sigil which had faintly glowed before the spellcaster at chest-level. It was not reminiscent of any conventional spell with which she was familiar. A foreign school of magic perhaps. [Regina | Spellcraft - Failure]

Loimi was the first to notice that the path had become more and more absurd as they attempted to brave the wall of fog roiling through. The flurry of snow didn't make seeing ahead any simpler, but his senses could reach out an occasionally notice shapes. People wandering in the chilly mist aimlessly without determinable features. The melted path turned, went wide, then doubled back before passing between two large stone pillars. It was unnervingly simple to miss how the way forward seemed to fold on itself, while seemingly appearing to move forward unerringly. The little man had no doubt that this place was far more complex and twisted than it appeared to be. A maze in an open field. [Loimi | Perception - Success]

It had been sometime, but finally it appeared they had caught up to the evasive wizard. Somewhere in the distance they heard him exclaim. "Here! Here! I'm here! ....not late." Out of breath, gasping for air, the man was knelt over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. As the pair made their approach into a massive central clearing, a central domed building rose up to greet them in the middle of a well maintained cobbled stone roundabout. The structure, which appeared more like a memorial with four pairs of sealed double doors mounted at each of its cardinal directions was carved from well polished stone or marble. Sitting on one of the circular stone rails running around the structure was a man clad in stark white priestly travel attire. A short brimmed hat covered half his face as his attention was turned toward a curious metal clad tome with a chain link securing it to a sturdy belt. While not youthful by any means, the man's narrow and cleanly shaven face gave him an air of spry and vigor which offset the weathered old jagged scars crossing his jaw and throat. The hefty Pharasmin rosary twist around his wrist suggested a holy practice, great collection of metal adornments and heraldic markers also hung from his person like some Mendevian crusader.

The priest's thin lips pursed in surprise as the wizard came into the clearing, pulling his attention from the volume. "My goodness. Mr. Penfrist, you made it!" While proper spoken delivered with a well mannered disposition, there was a roughness to the man's tone, likely inherent from the wounds which marred his otherwise obscured features. "Yeah! ...Hah. Yea... Just barely." The nameless man stuffed a hand into the folds of his thick white traveling coat, producing an elaborately figured silver watch. "Oh my. With less than a second to spare. An impressive feat, Mr. Penfrist. I had been hoping for the best, but expected the worst." The man sharply snapped his book closed hooking it to his belt. "Honestly, I had not expected we would meet again. You've bested the odds once again. I'm beginning to think you are quite more than lucky, sir." The wizard, Penfrist, coughed up an attempt at a laugh as he begun to recover. "This isn't my first time around..."

The worn magician pulled out a medallion from his robes, extending it out to the priest whom casually tapped it and briefly filled it with light. "Well, sir. I do believe you've completed all of your contracts, but if you are still lacking I can arrange for another." The old man shuffled over to the stone rail and found a seat next to the priest while waving away the suggestion, attempting to regather himself. "Nah... Whew. That was the last one actually. I have enough." The thin holy man nodded approvingly, "How wonderful. I suppose that makes you a two-time veteran then. Congratulations are surely in order." The weary wizard laughed, "You're damn right, but first, you should probably take care of the new kids." Penfrist gestured toward the pair as they approached. "I ran into em on the way here." The priest tilted his head curiously, "Hm? What do they look like?" "A woman with red hair and a pale boy."

Evidently collecting his thoughts before simply shrugging, the man spoke off into the distance, louder than need be as if to project his voice out into the mist. "Welcome, friends. I am Father Vaince Mortfield. Please come closer, I'm afraid my vision has almost left me completely."

Spoiler: Critical Note: Forbidden Knowledge

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Knowledge (Forbidden) is one of the most useful unique skills in the game, but also the absolute most dangerous ability a player character can utilize when performed outside of a very specific set of conditions, including the aid of numerous Potentials. Each time a PC attempts to utilize this skill without the protective features of other Potentials, they run a chance of acquiring a 'Corrupted Fate'. These conditions are a form of Curse which can potentially bestow numerous profane and crippling effects, but will in addition alter all quests and objectives the character possesses and can receive - permanently. The effects of a Corrupted Fate can be resolved by discovering and accomplishing the unique conditions associated with it. These conditions are always extremely severe, and may require an entire campaign-length undertaking to complete; stealing precious time which could be spent on other objectives.

Regardless of the result of the %dice in determining if such a status is received, the character receives a number of points of Spite, and possesses a very high chance of incurring a Divergence or critical alteration, which may impose its own unique consequences, depending on the circumstances. The percent of such events occurring caps at 100% upon the third use. A character may only utilize Knowledge (Forbidden) unprotected three times throughout the entity of the game. Upon exceeding this number of uses, the current character is immediately slain after the skill's resolution. This ability kills all iterations of a character simultaneously, but is specific to the identity which activated the ability and does not extend past Reflected Personas. This effect cannot be prevented by any source. Slain character's cannot be returned to life, including from such Potentials as Lesser Immortality.

Spoiler: Status

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֍ Regina +2000 (22,600xp)
HP 53/53
AC 19
⯎ Nobility Influence Gained
⯎ Deception Influence Gained
⯎ Trickery Influence Gained
⯎ Discovery Influence Gained
⯎ Magic Influence Gained
⯎ Secrets Influence Gained
⯎ Knowledge Influence Gained
⯎ Truth Influence Gained
⯎ Tapestry Influence Gained
⯎ Time Influence Gained
⯎ Dimensions Influence Gained
⯎ Fate Influence Gained
⯎ Vision Influence Gained
⯎ Light Influence Gained
⯎ Stability Influence Gained
⯎ Cold Influence Gained
⯎ Worlds Influence Gained
⯎ Death Influence Gained
⯎ Black Influence Gained
⯎ Red Influence Gained
⯎ Reflections Influence Gained
⯎ Darkness Influence Gained
⯎ Stars Influence Gained
⯎ Reality Influence Gained
⯎ Nuisance Influence Gained
⯎ Seeker Influence Gained
⯎ Forbidden Influence Gained

֍ Loimi +800 (10,800xp)
HP 48/48
AC 18
⯎ Cold Influence Gained
⯎ Doom Influence Gained
⯎ Death Influence Gained
⯎ Dimensions Influence Gained
⯎ Planes Influence Gained
⯎ Culture Influence Gained
⯎ Investigation Influence Gained
⯎ Caution Influence Gained
⯎ Chance Influence Gained
⯎ Diligence Influence Gained
⯎ Luck Influence Gained
⯎ Calm Influence Gained
⯎ Purposeful Influence Gained
⯎ Rewarded Influence Gained
⯌ [Acquired] Unidentified, Crystal Coin x1

~~Main Quest: The Fires of Willowbrook, Part 1~~ [Complete]
Long ago the Auspex had spoken of the four years which had come and gone from behind the bars of their cages. It was impossible to know just how long it had been since then, but if there was any lesson to be had in all of it, it was that 'time was meaningless'. Strength had begun to return to them. The future was their own to command if they could just wrest it free from the dead-hands of the hell named 'Willowbrook'. That was what they had to keep telling themselves. They said it over and over again until it became truth, the only truth that mattered. It had to be that way, because if they allowed themselves to slip, they would be faced with the terror of another reality too horrible to defeat. Then the 'nothing' which loomed above them like the executioner's axe, would fall. Then they too would join it; and this time, there would be no return.
Difficulty: Moderate | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: Unknown
Primary Objective (1): ~~Flee Sector 1B~~
Primary Objective (2): ~~Escape Willowbrook Sanitarium~~

**Stevesciguy** · 2020-06-03, 08:04 PM (ISO 8601)

Erik stood observing the two doors for a long, silent moment. He felt the blow that the strange witch's words dealt to him, but they didn't interrupt his thoughts. After what he'd just been through, a whisper wasn't going to phase him .[Hardy Brawler - Damage resisted]

Could leave this place. Walk away, mostly intact. See the untainted world again, whatever of it is left.

His gaze drifted down to his new weapon. He heard the name pounding at the back of his skull.

Or I can learn what the hell this is.

Withdrawing from his mind, Erik glanced around the room. Kaslin and the others, frozen as they got up or cleaned themselves off. The elf, emptying the contents of her stomach. The masked man, clutching at his skull. The twisted bodies that floated around them.

He turned more fully towards the witch, now addressing her directly. At the same time, he homed in on those flecks at the edges of his consciousness, trying to catch a glimpse of anything relevant.

"And the others? What happens to them?"

Erik did his best to take the edge off his voice. The younger man beside him didn't seem to appreciate the volume.

Spoiler: OoC

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Alright, skill check time.
Knowledge checks on the witch:

Abstract: (1d20+8)[19] [-950 XP]

History: (1d20+7)[21]

I'd also like to do a Sense Motive. She doesn't seem to like us or like being here. See if I can get a sense why:

Sense Motive: (1d20+9)[24]

**Mornings** · 2020-06-03, 10:23 PM (ISO 8601)

Main Quest: My Father Will Guide Me Up A Ladder To The Sky
The future was bleak. Awakening from the dream, Kazik and Erik woke to find a tragic broken world. With countless memories and years lost between them, the realization of the cruelty delivered by the magics employed against them finally begins to sink in. It was a malice beyond words, and loss beyond comprehension, where not even the awareness of it was allowed to persist... Only the emptiness. The depravity of the void which had slain every passion, every dream, every inspiration and moment that could be treasured by a mortal heart. The men they had been were dead now, in perhaps a far truer sense than any corpse could know. In some men's hearts burned the vengeance of the crippled and the wronged. In others rose the courage to let go. There were no easily won truths reclaimed from this blighted and wild dark. Here there were no words and no thoughts which escaped its thieving hand.
Difficulty: Easy | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: None
Primary Objective: Return to Ashurbanipal
Alternate Objective: Return to the Veil

22nd of Neth, Sunday | Time: 11:22pm | AR 4713 (Winter)
Varisia; Sandpoint Hinterlands
Point 323a; Ulbeph - Somewhere Below the Ruins

The old knight had been around for some time. Seen his fair share of enemies, and those less savory sorts whom gambled with their lives and others. Hateful men. Greedy men. Cruel men. Even the occasional careful, tactful men. The kind who plotted and schemed behind twisted truths and cunning lies. It had made him good at getting a feel for a man's character. But this... it would hardly take even a child a moment to grasp this demon's open hostility. The Witch's words dripped with a seething bitterness and plainly open disgust, as if choking back her revulsion with each begrudging exchange of words. Erik could physically feel the off-putting, barely contained murderous air folding over him like a putrid miasma that dampened his skin and made him itch uncomfortably as if he'd contracted a rash.

At first, he thought his vision was still warped and recovering. After all, the thin black line tracing the blighted Witch's figure couldn't have been real. No. Perhaps he simply didn't want to believe it was. Not here. Not outside the dream. With each span of words, the line grew bolder, subtly extruding further and further out into a negative pane. It was a moment Kaslin had engraved into his heart. A frame he could never forget. With each pause, the bold boarder contracted back into its thin, nigh unnoticeable, line. Like dripping grease running down a ledge, retreating, then leaking out all over again. The Witch's chilling vehemence and spite manifested as a literal controlled Collapse. While the seasoned mercenary couldn't even begin to fathom the mind of such a disturbing creature or just what had kept Witch's unbridled hatred in check... He had absolutely, and unquestionably no doubt. This was an entity of pure and unadulterated 'Evil'. A raw and elemental force. A natural enemy of all mankind. No. Perhaps all mortal life as he knew it. [Erik | Sense Motive - Success]

The Long Night had been attributed by the Purifier Order as a catastrophic event supposedly caused by the 'Whispering Witch'. Of course, he'd never seen or experienced anything that actually substantiated such claims... and he'd seen a lot. By the end of the Witch Hunts, there had only been one historical record of an actual 'witch' being executed. It had been quite a famous ordeal, in that it was the key event which overturned the then negative public opinion of the Purifiers' as 'fear mongers'. Many people had lost their livelihoods and their lives during that age of fear, panic and suspicion. Any spellcaster or individual thought to possess any command of magic was faced with imminent danger and forced to flee or live as a wandering pariah or isolated hermit. Even today, many still burned with distrust towards the magically inclined, with the exception of those who possessed a clerical profession. The executed individual, a well known criminal whom had been quite famous for the mass killings of children, was known as the Witch of Nine Talons. After her apprehension, the Purifiers claimed that she was the Whispering Witch and origin of all their woes before putting her to the pyre. As no other significant 'evil' spellcasters emerged and the Long Night did come to an end, few initially questioned the claim's validity. [Erik | Knowledge (History) - Success]

What now presented its back to him however, was something beyond the scope of his comprehension. An impossible existence. A thing too far outside the realms of natural order and universal law which shaped the spheres and existence that they knew. An oppressive nebulous shadow which diminished itself in effort to simply preserve that 'natural law'. That seemingly now delicate thing he would have called, the universe. This was the Whispering Witch... and if this had caused the Long Night, he feared that night would have had no end. Like an assassin's knife, the sudden pain sprung upon him like an attack by surprise. A skull splitting hammer to the temple that nearly leveled him into the foul murky water. It was thoughts... but they weren't his. Strange undefinable things. A voiceless monologue lacking contextual substance. A city... of planes. Darksome magic... Three Houses. A realm of cruel mystical immortals.... and her. One who stood above them. One who stood out from the rest. More twisted. More consumed. Whose mystic arts were forbidden. Consumed by a thirst... She delved into the black. The endlessness. The void. The silence. The crushing maddening expanse. Forward. Further. Further. Further than any ever before. Too far. Further than she should. Until the door. Past no return. Without stars. Endless night. Beyond. [Erik | Knowledge (Abstract) - Failure]

Erik staggered, shuddering as his mind reeled back from the beyond at some incomprehensible speed, ripping though some cosmic expanse and infinite periphery in reverse. As if his consciousness were some astral projection, his 'mental body' came crashing back into his fleshy skull with all the grace of a throw bag full of hammers. The Witch didn't bother directing its attention toward the mercenary, instead she delicately ran her long black nails down between the corpse's breast. Stroking the preserved pale child affectionately in some macabre display. "...M'el'unna." The swordsman didn't know what that meant, but by the horrible way she hissed it and the sickening twist of his stomach, he could guess it was a very rude word. "...Only creature's freed from the 'Fate' choose. To the Fate they remain bound. To the Fate they will return. This is the way of such creatures." [Status (Kazik) (Erik) | The Whisper - 3 Points of Nonlethal Damage]

**Deadguy** · 2020-06-04, 10:05 AM (ISO 8601)

Regina
Ghost in the Machine

Have we traveled backward? Regina was not sure that was completely possible. Fate could be manipulated to an extent, but traveling all the way to before the man-god seemed highly unlikely. At least the information helped her determine where they were, if not when. She began combing through her internal files on Vieland. It was not a place she was intimately familiar, but having any level of knowledge was better than walking in blind.

As they walked through the fog and finally came upon the building, she made note of it's design firstly. Another database search to reference what the structure might house or be used for. While doing so, she appraised the man, priest by his introduction. The tome stood out. The effort to secure it to his person was unique. Then the interaction between the priest and mage. There was a task or a quest of some manner, and a payment. Some sort of energy transfer.

She gave a most demure smile as the priest introduced himself. "Well met, Father. I am Mayli Artel." She moved forward, but only just, and curtsied politely. She wished to seem amicable to his desires but had no reason to trust this stranger's intentions. "My most sincere apologies for interrupting. It seemed we had all but caused Mr. Penfrist to fail in arriving on time with our sudden arrival. Again, I'm deeply sorry for the situation we placed you in, sir." She dipped her head toward the mage.

"As to our arrival here, I'm afraid I'm at a bit of a loss... You see, we experienced a... a planar anomaly." She feinted having a difficult time in describing their journey, hoping to avoid more prying questions. "I can not fathom if the flow of time passed more quickly or slowly for us. Could you be so kind as to tell me the year?"

Spoiler: OOC

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Knowledge (Arcana) vs time travel - (1d20+24)[40]
Knowledge (Geography) vs Vieland - (1d20+17)[24]
Knowledge (Engineering) vs building - (1d20+22)[24]
Knowledge (Religion) vs tome - (1d20+17)[25]
Knowledge (Arcana) vs energy payment - (1d20+24)[27]
Knowledge (Local) vs Penfrist name - (1d20+17)[18]
Linguistics (replaces Diplomacy) - (1d20+27)[34]

**Mornings** · 2020-06-04, 03:58 PM (ISO 8601)

There were many things the coy woman knew. In fact, not long ago it wouldn’t have been any exaggeration were she to have claimed to be more knowledgeable than most in a multitude of fields. Yet, despite that. All of that knowledge and study seemingly amounted to very little in the face of the strangeness emerging with each passing moment. Even that simple book. It was no bible, or religious tome. Nor was it some magician’s grimoire or other volume of magic. Not some historic record. Not some accounting ledger. Nor even a traveler’s manifest. Yes. Like many of the things she had recently experienced. She had not the slightest clue at all as to the nature of the unusual titless book. That cluelessness extended towards the strangeness of their predicament as well. While, yes. There was well established factual evidence of powerful spells and perhaps even ‘time magic’ known to exist, it was an obscure thing thought to be outside the realm of magics which could be commanded by mortal men. Though, that didn’t mean that such things couldn’t exist at all. There were many discussions hosted by the Surveyor Corps, regarding the often twisted nature of tainted lands – and how this in itself may have been a product of some manner of altered time-space. The Paradox Codices themselves were physical temporal anomalies. Objects plucked out from points of time and seemingly randomly deposited in corrupted regions which manifested in their world. It was all theory of course, some of which bordered on more fantastical ideas or fringe science, but ultimately such occurrences were simply not understood. Even she herself could not assemble any semblance of logic or explanation to the things she had experienced over what might have been a short span of hours…. Or perhaps countless years. This wasn’t magic. This wasn’t some base planar translocation. This wasn’t like anything she knew [Regina | Knowledge (Religion) / Knowledge (Arcane) - Failure]

The county of Vieland was a place she was familiar with however. Located in the furthest north-western end of the country of Ustalav, the region was famous for its strange and ancient stone monoliths which laid scattered about the landscape. Structures far older than any record could illuminate. Rising as the country’s bulwark, with the orc-laden Hold of Belkzen to its west, and the demon-infested Worldwound at its north, the county maintained a critical strategic importance toward the defense of the nation. Vieland stood as one of the three regions which had claimed independence from autocratic Ustalavic rule, uniting with its sister states of Lozeri and Tamrivena – which later adopted the name of Canterwall, during a peaceful coup in the year 4670. Since that time, the Palatine Council ruled over the three states, seating the bulk of their activity in Vieland’s capital of Lepidstadt. [Regina | Knowledge (Geography) - Success]

An exchange of insubstantial force was not remarkably common, even more so with phobia of magical arts all but running rampant throughout the Inner Sea. Still, the practice itself was a well-established science and didn’t typically evoke any curious thoughts or wonder. But this did. Often the high costs associated with magical items’ creation came from how simply inefficient of a task it was. Needless waste of both energy and materials. Money oft literally being dumped into such efforts. It wasn’t because the trade was inherently expensive, because in truth, it wasn’t. It was simply an inefficient endeavor. A fact often made evident by the occasional freak accident, or cursed products. While the resulting effects of an uncontrolled enchantment or imbuement of arcane essence undoubtedly led to unpredictable results, the unexpected method often created far less waste than the more structured and predictable methods. This particular exchange she had witnessed however. It wasn’t anything like she’d seen before. There was absolutely no waste. No expenditure. A perfect transference of magical energy impossible by even the most skilled craftsman. If such a thing were feasible, than even the enchantment from a hundred salvaged arrows could be ripped free and woven into the steel of a greatsword nearly indefinitely, with absolutely no material cost. Not even the loss of the original arrows from which the energy was transferred. If such a thing was understood, it would turn all magical logic on its head… Then collapse a great portion of the world’s economy and trade. An improbable and dangerous discovery. [Regina | Knowledge (Arcane) - Failure]

There was only one wizard with the surname Penfrist. Originally hailing from the country of Absalom and employed under the Grand Lodge of the Pathfinder Society, Galic Penfrist had been a well-known magician long before the Long Night. At some point between the beginning of the Night and its end, he had found himself stranded in Varisia. Having braved many dangers spawned by the corruption, Penfrist joined forces with the legendary mercenary Iron Hawk and jointly founded the elite band of Harriers which became known as ‘Loveless’. Out of all the companies of Harriers, Loveless had undoubtedly been the most veteran. Fighting both during the Long Night and before it, in the infamous battle of Runners Breach. The powerful wizard had gone missing after a terrible conflict beneath Magnimar. The company only reported the old man as missing, rather than dead following the skirmish. The magician was known for often vanishing after the conclusion of a crucial fight, only to mysteriously turn up later on. [Regina | Knowledge (Local) - Success]

Regina’s eyes passed over the massive structure behind the men as she spoke. It was difficult not to admire the sweeping fluted columns and flared arches of ancient Chellish architecture. While the woman couldn’t perfectly identify the age, due to simply how well maintained it was, the authenticity of its craftsmanship led her to believe that the structure had been carved by a genuine mason of the period. While the grandiose sculpted design was distinctively Chellish, the rigidity and proud rise of the design and the array of the whole assembly held clear Taldan influences, translating to the mason being schooled in his craft sometime between the founding of the frontier and its declaration of independence. An enormous span of time between AR 3007 and 4081. As the woman finished speaking, both men looked at each other, seemingly bewildered. The priest’s hand snapped up to his mouth, as if to stifle his own reaction out of consideration. The wizard simply burst into a laughter of disbelief. "I’ve never… A planar anomaly? I dunno what happened to you, but it must have been something exceptionally insane. Which might explain our collision. No one with their mind intact gets here not knowing why." The old man pulled off his hat to bat off the snow before slapping it back on his head, "I hate to break it to ya, kid. But if you’re here. You’re dead... well, mostly." The magician stood up and straightened his back as if trying to work out a knot, "Also... There ain’t no ‘year’. There’s no translation from a calendar to this place. If Father Vaince here wasn’t even expecting you, he can’t even tell ’when’ you came from." [Regina | Knowledge (Engineering) - Success]

Father Mortfield nodded, "Unfortunately, this is the case. Though it is more odd that you are lost, yet your ego remains whole. That should not be the case… Well, regardless. I suppose welcome, to Mortfield Cemetery, or at least some semblance of it. Unfortunately, this is not a place anyone would wish to find themselves, but it is still a pleasure to make your acquaintance miss Artel." The priestly man gave a slight bow, though she suspected the man had certainly been correct. An ominous feeling permeated the chill air, something unnatural.

Spoiler: Critical Note: Forbidden Knowledge

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Knowledge (Forbidden) is one of the most useful unique skills in the game, but also the absolute most dangerous ability a player character can utilize when performed outside of a very specific set of conditions, including the aid of numerous Potentials. Each time a PC attempts to utilize this skill without the protective features of other Potentials, they run a chance of acquiring a 'Corrupted Fate'. These conditions are a form of Curse which can potentially bestow numerous profane and crippling effects, but will in addition alter all quests and objectives the character possesses and can receive - permanently. The effects of a Corrupted Fate can be resolved by discovering and accomplishing the unique conditions associated with it. These conditions are always extremely severe, and may require an entire campaign-length undertaking to complete; stealing precious time which could be spent on other objectives.

Regardless of the result of the %dice in determining if such a status is received, the character receives a number of points of Spite, and possesses a very high chance of incurring a Divergence or critical alteration, which may impose its own unique consequences, depending on the circumstances. The percent of such events occurring caps at 100% upon the third use. A character may only utilize Knowledge (Forbidden) unprotected three times throughout the entity of the game. Upon exceeding this number of uses, the current character is immediately slain after the skill's resolution. This ability kills all iterations of a character simultaneously, but is specific to the identity which activated the ability and does not extend past Reflected Personas. This effect cannot be prevented by any source. Slain character's cannot be returned to life, including from such Potentials as Lesser Immortality.

Spoiler: Status

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֍ Regina +900 (23,500xp)
HP 53/53
AC 19
⯎ Nobility Influence Gained
⯎ Deception Influence Gained
⯎ Trickery Influence Gained
⯎ Discovery Influence Gained
⯎ Magic Influence Gained
⯎ Secrets Influence Gained
⯎ Knowledge Influence Gained
⯎ Truth Influence Gained
⯎ Tapestry Influence Gained
⯎ Time Influence Gained
⯎ Dimensions Influence Gained
⯎ Fate Influence Gained
⯎ Vision Influence Gained
⯎ Light Influence Gained
⯎ Stability Influence Gained
⯎ Cold Influence Gained
⯎ Worlds Influence Gained
⯎ Death Influence Gained
⯎ Black Influence Gained
⯎ Red Influence Gained
⯎ Reflections Influence Gained
⯎ Darkness Influence Gained
⯎ Stars Influence Gained
⯎ Reality Influence Gained
⯎ Nuisance Influence Gained
⯎ Seeker Influence Gained
⯎ Forbidden Influence Gained

֍ Loimi +800 (10,800xp)
HP 48/48
AC 18
⯎ Cold Influence Gained
⯎ Doom Influence Gained
⯎ Death Influence Gained
⯎ Dimensions Influence Gained
⯎ Planes Influence Gained
⯎ Culture Influence Gained
⯎ Investigation Influence Gained
⯎ Caution Influence Gained
⯎ Chance Influence Gained
⯎ Diligence Influence Gained
⯎ Luck Influence Gained
⯎ Calm Influence Gained
⯎ Purposeful Influence Gained
⯎ Rewarded Influence Gained
⯌ [Acquired] Unidentified, Crystal Coin x1

~~Main Quest: The Fires of Willowbrook, Part 1~~ [Complete]
Long ago the Auspex had spoken of the four years which had come and gone from behind the bars of their cages. It was impossible to know just how long it had been since then, but if there was any lesson to be had in all of it, it was that 'time was meaningless'. Strength had begun to return to them. The future was their own to command if they could just wrest it free from the dead-hands of the hell named 'Willowbrook'. That was what they had to keep telling themselves. They said it over and over again until it became truth, the only truth that mattered. It had to be that way, because if they allowed themselves to slip, they would be faced with the terror of another reality too horrible to defeat. Then the 'nothing' which loomed above them like the executioner's axe, would fall. Then they too would join it; and this time, there would be no return.
Difficulty: Moderate | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: Unknown
Primary Objective (1): ~~Flee Sector 1B~~
Primary Objective (2): ~~Escape Willowbrook Sanitarium~~

**forg99rules** · 2020-06-04, 07:56 PM (ISO 8601)

Confusion filled him as the path seemed to fold onto itself, he could feel that something was wrong with this place and he began to wonder if the figures he saw out in the fog were even real or just his imagination. Hearing the sudden proclamation from the Mage made him curious, as he watched the exchange between the two men he began to wonder even more about what was going on. Hearing the Mage direct the old priests attention to them he followed Regina's lead and introduced himself, “I am Loimi Vaeltaja, a pleasure to meet you”. His eyes roamed over the building and both the men respectively, names had been given out though he paid little mind to them as Penfrist began to speak. Instead he began looking over the Fathers clothes trying to find any discernible features that might give him additional information about the man. The words spoken confused him even more, he had died, or at least that's what the Mage had said. Though of course the man said it whilst laughing at them, he was about to speak up and try and dismiss the Mages words when the Father spoke. “Theres no way that both of these men would lie to us about being dead, especially not a Priest of some sort.” Standing up a bit straighter he “If we are truly dead then I can guarantee that I have no idea as to how it happened or how we actually ended up here. Last thing I remember is some Enforcer, Caus'fel I believe was his name, He appeared and destroying a creature before some challenge was put upon us. Then there was a light in the snow, then...” pausing as he collected his memories, as his mind coiled in on itself trying to protect his sanity he suddenly remembered “We need to Find Astrok'Ru or the Renor'anon, I believe they might know what happened. You two wouldn't possibly know of these two beings would you?”

Spoiler: OOC

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Perception: (1d20+19)[22] - For the building in front of us
Perception: (1d20+19)[22] - For the Father
Know Religion: (1d20+15)[31] - For the Father
Perception: (1d20+19)[37] - For their reaction to the names i mentioned.

**Chromascope3D** · 2020-06-04, 08:00 PM (ISO 8601)

Kazik
The Hanging Men

Stranded upon the lake of blood, surrounded by the carnage of his former fellows in arms. Kazik had mellowed, matured since his days as a bitter young man. He was not one to relish in senseless death, and he felt the pang of loss, even with his memories indistinct and hazy. And yet...

He thought back to his time in the dream. To the younger Kaslin and the horrid beast, of the raw power they displayed. If he were to return, could he have such power as well? Power enough to find that man, power enough to challenge the Court. And if not? Then gods above, how alive he had felt, again and again just a hair ahead of certain death. The mortal remains here only confirmed how thin that line had been, how he could taste it. It was enough to make his mouth water. The challenge itself would be reason enough to return. And yet...

Kazik stared at the creature before him. What was its goal, why were they here at all? But even so, he chuckled.

"How could I say no?"

Spoiler: OOC

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Skill checks
Sense Motive (1d20+17)[18]
Knowledge (Nobility) (1d20+7)[10]

Spoiler: Stats

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Kazik
Human Sentinel (Darkness Defender) LN
Scorn 14
Focus Points: 10/10
Reserve Points 5/5
Martial Focus Yes
HP 92 / 92 [5 nonlethal] Speed ft Init 8 AC 22 Fort 10 Ref 9 Will 8 [7] CMB +10 BAB 5 +1 Chain Whip +13 (+11) (1d3+8 (1d3+12) {+10}, x2)
Throwing Knives +12 (1d4+2, x2)
Dagger +12 (+10) (1d4+2, 19-20/x2) Str 20 (5) Dex 24 (7) Con 16 (3) Wis 16 (3) [15 (+2)]Int 14 (2) Cha 9 (-1)
Boons
Martial Focus

Conditions

**Mornings** · 2020-06-05, 12:03 AM (ISO 8601)

The thin red line. When he saw it cross his vision, he didn't understand what it was but a horrid wilting dread filled him. It ran across his vision, splitting his world in two as he was drawn out from his body. Like a soul forcibly evicted from its host. An identical mirror, reflecting the same events... beginning many minutes ago. Following the red haired woman. The twisting path. The great central clearing and its massive structure. The two men. An exchange of words. On the left the world grew mute. The words he would have said replaced by something he couldn't hear. Laughter. The wizard had offered him something. A strange crystalline device before saying his farewells and setting off on his way. This was what could have been.

On the right. The world darkened. A crushing ink violently beginning to crushing in on either sides of the frame. In a skipping jerking motion. Every creature sharply twisted and contorted. Thrashing its head about. Left. Right. Then left again. Repeating at impossible speed. Randomly broken by abrupt pauses. Revealing their replaced figure. Grotesque fleshless dolls. Dripping black gaping holes where eyes should have been. Then once more the twisting blur of motion blotted out their disturbing visage. With sharp abrupt motions, his body begun to bend and snap. Walking upon hands. Feat. Neck, and knee. Some boneless rubbery mannequin. He was forced to watch the demented silent play. The creature which had been him cackled mutely, insanely convulsing as his consciousness was drawn closer. Closer. Closer. Black.

Loimi returned to his body. A black crushing wave struck him from both earth and sky, as if both spaces had converged upon one point in existence. Something horrid crashed through him. His skin shattered like glass, revealing long jagged depthless black wounds. The wave of umbral power visibly coursed beneath his skin, causing the flesh to churn and bloat like a gout of air until it reached his left leg. The limb exploded in a sickening wet burst, like a bubble of meat and sinew sending him sprawling into the thick gory clay with a disgusting splat. The jarring termination of the freezing field into hell was so sudden he hadn't even noticed the rotting hills of viscera and blood rain permeating his clothes.

There wasn't any pain. Only a numbing sense of disbelief as he stared up at the faceless man assembled from the punched-out humanoid-figure of a void. The two-dimensional shape of his umbrella held above seeming to devour the light and rain, but did not obscure the sight of him shaking his head. Condemnation. Though the shape of long hair blotted out any discernible features, as Loimi looked up at the terrible thing. He understood. Even if he didn't want to. He understood. It pried itself into his mind with the elegance of a dwarven war-pick. He did this. The names. They were forbidden. Laws. Broken. No words. No thoughts. No exceptions. He had not earned the right. It was the world's will. Punishment.

Suddenly. Without warning. Erupting out from the creature's shadow. Hands. Thrashing. Screaming. The taloned hands tore into him. Rending fistfuls of meat and skin. Ripping open his abdomen, burying itself into his stomach. Unspeakable agony. Like a stuffed bear in the hands of an insane child. Black claws mauled him. Restrained him. Ripping out entrails and unrecognizable clumps of pulsing bloody tissue with vicious wild abandon. Despite the agony. Despite his foaming bloody convulsions. He remained conscious. Eviscerated. Left as nothing more than an empty hallow carcass circled by his own flayed innards... and he knew. This was justice.

The unspeakable thing was gone. Simply absent. As if it had never been, leaving Loimi a broken simulacrum of the person he was. Somewhere in the distance, between the bloody ring in his ears, he could hear the wet guttural gargle of some indescribable creature. Somewhere. He could hear a fearful familiar whisper. "Hello.. Hello. Are you here?"

STABILITY BREAK - SPITE OF OLTHUS: JUSTICE OF BLACK

⯌ Spited. Inflicted with [5] points of Spite
⯌ Consumed Essence. Maximum HD reduced by 4 (minimum 1). Any excess HD loss which would reduce the creature to 0 HD is applied as an HD penalty. If penalized, the creature loses access to all non-potential class, racial and special abilities. This penalty remains until the creature would gain an amount of HD equal to the his HD penalty. Each time HD would be gained while holding a penalty, the penalty is reduced by an equal amount. No HD are gained until this penalty is removed.
⯌ Leg Destroyed. The creature's maximum movement speed is reduced by half. The creature cannot run and remains prone unless he possesses a crutch, or hold on an object which would be able to hold him up to his normal standing height. Moving while prone follows the crawling rules as normal.
⯌ Shattering Wounds. The creature suffers a loss of 3d6 points from his maximum hit points. Additionally he must succeed a DC 22 fortitude save or die. Alternatively he may automatically succeed this save by choosing to sacrifice an additional 3d6 points of his maximum hit points. The creature's maximum hit points cannot be reduced below 0 by this effect.
⯌ Memory Stolen. The creature suffers the loss of 1000 x 1d10 experience points. This effect cannot reduce the creature's remaining experience points below 1.
⯌ The Wheel. The creature is moved down one Existential Phase.
⯌ Unliving Agony. The creature is staggered for 30 rounds, shaken for 20 rounds, nauseated for 10 rounds and stunned for 5 rounds. The creature may attempt a DC 20 fortitude save each round to suspend the stunned condition that round. Regardless of the result, each attempt increases the subsequent round's DC by 1.
⯌ Fighting Back Death. The creature suffers 5 points of bleed damage each round. This is not a cursed effect, however the wounds cannot be easily mended. This bleeding effect does not automatically end from magical healing, but may be treated both with magical and mundane means. This bleed effect ends upon a successful heal check (DC 130). Each heal check reduces the DC by the result of the attempted check. Additionally, magical healing reduces the DC by an amount equal to the damage healed.

Spoiler: Note To Regina

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Loimi begins to speak, but is then violently ripped out from existence into a void by countless black hands.

Spoiler: Stability Breaks: Existential Phases

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Stability Breaks are a condition more frequently inflicted via magical effects and spells to forcefully remove particularly troublesome opponents.

Stability itself is a creature's definition and ego within their respective existential phase, and stability checks represent a creature's ability to resist the distortion, damage or corruption inflicted by foreign or natural sources; or self inflicted via the corruption of spite, scorn and brands. Like a limited pool of hit points a creature can withstand a certain degree of abuse by successfully passing stability checks. However, for most creature's without arcane aptitude, they can only withstand a single success versus an individual source of damage to their stability. After beginning to fail these checks, their stability suffers damage. Under normal circumstances, a creature can suffer half their HD rounded down in failures. However, some individual checks, based on their severity, may inflict a greater number worth of failed checks. Upon reaching the limit of their stability, they begin attempting checks to resist stability break. If a creature fails this check, their ego is damaged and forcefully moved a minimum of one existential phase down. Typically the further from their native phase a creature becomes, the more difficult the stability checks when occurring naturally. Spells which utilize stability may alter how failure resolves. When a break occurs via spite or other appropriate corruption effect, the creature suffers an amount of spite equal to the number of failures which exceed their limit; determining the severity of the effect. Certain environments or realms may also introduce greater or lesser degrees of severity.

There are six existential phases. These phases are the individual layers which form the composite of the First and Second World. The phases are the complete assembly of all places, and exist in a concurrent state at all times. Unlike transportation effects, or planar travel, shifting your existential phase counts as neither and retains the creature's current position on their current plane. These phases are the layers which form reality itself, however the further down one goes, the more uninhabitable and primal it becomes. A creature must continue to meet the progressively more severe requirements to remain manifest within their respective phase. If a creature fails to do so, it is removed from the game. Creatures removed in this manner have all previous and active actions, effects, abilities, spells, memories, potentials and/or resolved or unresolved rounds from any period during the game, resolved again, correcting any deviations from the current World Line or Fates. This effect does not alter any new Fates successfully created by the creature or the PCs.

A creature moved to any existential phase below the sixth is removed from the game.

Spoiler: Status

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֍ Loimi +3000 (13,800xp)
HP 48/48
AC 18
⯎ Cold Influence Gained
⯎ Doom Influence Gained
⯎ Death Influence Gained
⯎ Dimensions Influence Gained
⯎ Planes Influence Gained
⯎ Culture Influence Gained
⯎ Investigation Influence Gained
⯎ Caution Influence Gained
⯎ Chance Influence Gained
⯎ Diligence Influence Gained
⯎ Luck Influence Gained
⯎ Calm Influence Gained
⯎ Purposeful Influence Gained
⯎ Rewarded Influence Gained
⯎ Agony Influence Gained
⯎ Pain Influence Gained
⯎ Suffering Influence Gained
⯎ Struggle Influence Gained
⯎ Divine Influence Gained
⯎ Umbral Influence Gained
⯎ Void Influence Gained
⯎ Punishment Influence Gained
⯎ Spite Influence Gained
⯎ Displacement Influence Gained
⯎ Shattered Influence Gained
⯎ Consumed Influence Gained
⯎ Unliving Influence Gained
⯎ Evil Influence Gained
⯎ Fool Influence Gained
⯎ Justice Influence Gained
⯌ [Acquired] Unidentified, Crystal Coin x1

~~Main Quest: The Fires of Willowbrook, Part 1~~ [Complete]
Long ago the Auspex had spoken of the four years which had come and gone from behind the bars of their cages. It was impossible to know just how long it had been since then, but if there was any lesson to be had in all of it, it was that 'time was meaningless'. Strength had begun to return to them. The future was their own to command if they could just wrest it free from the dead-hands of the hell named 'Willowbrook'. That was what they had to keep telling themselves. They said it over and over again until it became truth, the only truth that mattered. It had to be that way, because if they allowed themselves to slip, they would be faced with the terror of another reality too horrible to defeat. Then the 'nothing' which loomed above them like the executioner's axe, would fall. Then they too would join it; and this time, there would be no return.
Difficulty: Moderate | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: Unknown
Primary Objective (1): ~~Flee Sector 1B~~
Primary Objective (2): ~~Escape Willowbrook Sanitarium~~

**Deadguy** · 2020-06-05, 08:29 AM (ISO 8601)

Regina
Ghost in the Machine

"... and then there was one..." Regina watched as the shadowy hands ripped her companion from standing beside her. Acquaintance. Completely stranger, really. She turned her attention back to the priest and mage, releasing a burdened sigh.

"Is this Pharasma's realm then? The explanation actually makes some semblance of sense. It explains why all of the architecture, from the gravestones to the mausoleum, are in such pristine condition." She directed her attention to Penfrist specifically. "Sir, if I may venture to be so bold, I believe I know of you as a founder of the Loveless. My companion might have been trying to explain too much, so I will simply say that our... my current situation involves a corruption from the Long Night."

She motioned to the vessel that they had used to conduct the energy transfer. "You are here, and of sound mind, am I to assume that you are also dead, mostly? Since I didn't actually die, as far as I can tell, and confirmed by the fact that Father Mortfield was not expecting me, might I ask if you know a way to remedy my current situation?" The red-haired woman seemed rather calm about being dead. Internally, she was actually grateful, death was a known quantity. A stable foothold in the reality of the cosmos. Something she could actually work with, and was intimately familiar with.

There was a deep-seated desire to drop the pretense of her disguise. Perhaps the priest was actually expecting her, just not as Mayli. While her body was all but immune to the cold conditions, she could not help but feel the unnatural. As she waited, hoped, for some good news as to changing her current status, she continued to scan the clearing with her acute eyesight. It was interesting that her ego would manifest all of her artificial body and core, as opposed to her natural state. If that was the case, could Vanessa even be considered a separate entity? Could her essence be removed from the core of the current body? Regina was shaken by the thought that this entire string of events might have destroyed her only true goal. The cause for her to be placed within the cell to begin with.

Spoiler: OOC

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Knowledge (Planes) vs hands (1d20+22)[38]
Knowledge (Planes) vs current location - (1d20+22)[42]
Perception vs unnatural - (1d20+22)[41]
Knowledge (Technology) vs essence core (1d20+36)[47]

**forg99rules** · 2020-06-05, 06:18 PM (ISO 8601)

A dark dread filled him as he watched the scene unfold, He knew immediately what he had done wrong. Words that he had thought held no weight, his mind turned back to before when the others and himself had collapsed from something. Maybe it had been a warning, though now it did not matter. As the world crashed in around him, the sense of dread turned to panic, the odd creatures silent cackle, the knowledge that he was most likely even more dead than was previously revealed. He tried to scream, yet nothing came out, He tried to close his eyes and yet he lacked the control to do such. Whatever he had done, he was forced to see what could have been and what he was to expect from his actions.

The return to his body brought no sense of safety as his skin shattered; he waited for the pain, but there was none, the jagged black lines coursing through his body, merging at his leg. A brief curiosity found itself in his mind as his leg exploded. Was it the purpose of the energy to do such, or was it that his leg could not contain such energy that caused it to explode. The brief flicker of thought passed quickly as his eyes caught sight of the faceless man. The look of condemnation from a being of such power was enough to wipe away any hope of survival that he had, he only hoped that someday his body might be found and returned to his people. He understood now what he had done, the unknown laws that he had broken. He understood that it did not matter if he had known them or not; to beings like the one before him it was a moot point, and punishment was to be dealt for his crimes. The panic in him subsided as he resolved himself to his fate. He was determined to remain stoic throughout the ordeal; he waited for the being to mete out the punishment. As the hands lashed out he hardened himself against the pain and fear, even as his guts were strewn about in a crazed fashion he would not let his last moment be one dictated by his fear of death. As the pain became unbearable and he felt that he could stand no more, his mind suddenly turned inward to memories long forgotten.

I had been sent home again from school, I had caused another disturbance in the class. I had been layering questions upon questions onto the teacher while also continually moving about, unable to sit still and just listen to the lesson being taught. The walk home had been one filled with dread as I had been told that my parents were informed of my actions at the school. I paused in front of the door to the house, trying to work out in my mind how I was going to explain to my parents that I needed more and that I could not stay here. Surprise took me as I opened the door to find several bags packed and a joyful smile on my mother's face. “We heard from the school, I had hoped to have more time to prepare you.” a sigh escaped her lips as she looked over to my father, “I had hoped that he would have been happy for you as well.” “How could I be happy for him? None of us know what to expect, nor do we know where he will end up. For all I know he could warp to the same place as I did and not even make it back alive.” Standing up, my father made his way over to me before handing me one of the packs off the floor. “Understand this boy, no matter where you end up, you need to keep your wits about you. Do not needlessly talk to others and make sure to always check your body and equipment before and after every jump. You don't want to warp somewhere and realize that you had left all of your food behind at the last world.”

Taking the pack from my father, I slung it over my shoulder. A sense of giddiness started to fill me as I felt some unknown power begin to surround my being, “I will make you proud, I will stay safe and watch my words.” An ink-like black filled my vision as I was ripped into a rift, the suddenness of it pulling the air from my lungs, the sight of my parent's eyes filled with terror the last thing I saw. Confusion set into me as I was left floating in the void, the black surrounding my from all sides with not even a flicker of light to reveal anything. It was hard to gauge how much time was passing him by. He initially tried to count to keep track of how long he had been floating in the nothingness. Still, eventually, he just gave up on the counting as it only made him more nervous than he already was. The void played tricks on his mind, even though all he could see what black he kept thinking that he could make out shapes in the vast void that he now resided in. The forms he saw were not of his world, though at the same time, some of them reminded him of the creature that had brought about his people's abilities to travel. Creatures that he was sure were more massive than the homeworld drifted by him in the void, only to vanish from his sight as he blinked.

As his mind returned to the present, he wished he had heeded his father's warning. Laying in the muck with the contents of his body strewn about in some lurid fashion, he waited as he felt the life drain from his body. The last thought to cross his mind was the worry for the familiar whisper he had heard.

Spoiler: OOC

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Death is but the beginning.

Required rolls are in the OOC

**Stevesciguy** · 2020-06-05, 06:51 PM (ISO 8601)

Their remaining time here was short. While Erik still resisted it, the force of the Witch's voice grew stronger. And that aside, he couldn't know how much longer she would tolerate their presence. Erik had the inkling that she couldn't harm them - that she was subject to some rule upheld by Hells-know-what. That didn't mean he wanted to test her limits.

His iron-faced companion also seemed ready to leave, though somewhat more eagerly. It briefly occurred to Erik that he'd yet to have a name to go with the mask.

He addressed the Witch once more. This time, though, he tried a different approach. If the Witch's hatred could manifest as a collapse, a degradation of stability, could he perhaps read her more closely through the stability in the room? A creature like this may well speak in more than just words. Admittedly, Erik felt somewhat silly for trying, but his curiosity won out. He did his best to feel the room, to look for currents and fluctuations as she spoke.

"And this 'Fate'? You speak of it more as an object, or place. What is it?"

He mentally prepared himself for the next whisper, and dug deep to feel as much as he listened.

Spoiler: OoC

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Survival Check to try Erik's wacky idea:
Survival: (1d20+10)[23]

**Mornings** · 2020-06-05, 08:51 PM (ISO 8601)

Everyone froze as the strange little man was ripped out from existence by the cruel black hands. Both men went rigid in surprise at the sudden howling departure into the void-space, the wizard's eyes wide in shock. His hand snapped out to his side to recover his staff. "Yup, you got me. That's me! Perhaps I was a little vague. You can't get here while in possession of a physical body. So at the very least, your ego would need to be removed, or bound to a Veil, or other magical construct. Lots of possibilities. Really, I'd enjoy nothing more than discussing the finer details of navigating the more obscure corners of the 'greater multiverse'... But that's my cue." The old man hopped off the rail. The priest sharply reached out, grabbing the wizard's shoulder. "How bad?" Galic pulled back one of his large billowing sleeves with his staff-hand, glancing down at his wrist. Three thick bold brands revealed themselves, burning into his flesh before their eyes. Seemingly unfazed by his blistering skin, he looked back at the blind clergyman. "Three. Really-Really bad."

Regina had never seen the black hands before in person, but it had not been something beyond her knowledge. She'd seen the journals. Records left by those who had. Artifacts which documented the only survivors whom had witnessed the rumored events which unfolded during the Night. There were dead cities. Entire states out there filled with nothing but empty clothes scattered upon the streets. Remnants of the Hallowed Tide. No one knew what it had been. Those whom had seen the anomaly from a great distance claimed it had been great waves of darkness, flowing like water upon land. Massive walls, miles across filled with the nightmares. Immortal evils known as Hallowed Ones. Twisted black shadows with leering hands which could reach across hundreds of feet. It didn't matter what it was. The Hallowed swept away man, animal and Veilbeast alike without discrimination. Those men pulled into the dark vanished without a trace, leaving only their physical possessions. The Dead Cities left in the wake of the tide, become inhospitable cursed lands which could kill a human simply from prolonged exposure to the corrupted air. The Tide was believed to be caused by a separate and still unknown entity, but there was no evidence to substantiate any claim fully. [Regina | Knowledge (Planes) - Failure]

"Enjoy you visit to the Far Place, Ms. Artel." The wizard turned and begun walking up the steps of the building, but not before turning and pointing back at the priest. "-And you. Stop ripping-off new kids. Call it what you want. 'Skimming off the top', or whatever... Well, that just ain't ethical business." The holy-man smashed his face into his palm in embarrassment. Somehow the magician's words weren't surprising. Be it in the world or.... Wherever this was, somehow it seemed like ministers of the faith always managed to find ways to bend rules for personal gain. The old man scratched his beard, only a handful of patches of color remaining mixed in the gray, glancing back at Regina. "Every man's got their vices; good or bad. You'll need help crawling outta here. If you don't understand how you got here, that makes your predicament that much more dire. Think hard on it." The man produced the same device once again, raising it up with an exclamation, "Yaith'n'bel!" In a dull white flash, he was gone. She didn't understand. Parts of this place felt indeed like they could have belonged to some reaches of the Outer Sphere, while others did not. The graveyard itself would have been appropriate in the Spirelands, but this was hardly that. There was no ferryman here to guide her unto final judgement with every other mortal soul. She did not know of such a place. [Regina | Knowledge (Planes) - Failure]

Her eyes shifted about, catching movement or the occasional wild shape. Strange things wandered in the mists. Thin ghostly creatures aimlessly drifting about, as if lost. Sometimes, individual flakes of snow would fall, then rewind its motion in contrast to the rest of the normal world, creeping back up into the clouds in broken awkward motions. Regina didn't know what it was, but an eerie knot in her stomach compelled she direct her gaze into the heavens. Sometimes the the clouds split, and she saw them. The faces. Creatures of impossible size, pointing down into the world and bickering with one another, as if caught in disagreement. Stature too enormous, too immense to be captured even by the sky. Faces shrouded by the sweep of storms and dull celestial light. Her mind was completely black. Empty of all explanations or science to explain the absurd spectacle. [Regina | Perception - Success]

Penfrist had only briefly mentioned some of the possibilities, but from what she could tell - she possessed a physical body. Her physical body. Which meant that this was likely along the lines he had mentioned regarding 'magical constructs', and binding a creature's ego. If that was true, than when had it happened? Moments ago? ...Or perhaps a very, very long time ago. If this was artificial, then how would she know what 'real' felt like? It was indistinguishable from everything she knew as 'true'. The question threatened to be more than she dared contemplate without concrete facts and evidence; of which, she had none. Father Mortfield extended his hand, seeming to regather his composure after publicly defaced. "Ms. Artel. I'm afraid we need to go." [Regina | Knowledge (Technology) - Partial]

Spoiler: Critical Note: Forbidden Knowledge

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Knowledge (Forbidden) is one of the most useful unique skills in the game, but also the absolute most dangerous ability a player character can utilize when performed outside of a very specific set of conditions, including the aid of numerous Potentials. Each time a PC attempts to utilize this skill without the protective features of other Potentials, they run a chance of acquiring a 'Corrupted Fate'. These conditions are a form of Curse which can potentially bestow numerous profane and crippling effects, but will in addition alter all quests and objectives the character possesses and can receive - permanently. The effects of a Corrupted Fate can be resolved by discovering and accomplishing the unique conditions associated with it. These conditions are always extremely severe, and may require an entire campaign-length undertaking to complete; stealing precious time which could be spent on other objectives.

Regardless of the result of the %dice in determining if such a status is received, the character receives a number of points of Spite, and possesses a very high chance of incurring a Divergence or critical alteration, which may impose its own unique consequences, depending on the circumstances. The percent of such events occurring caps at 100% upon the third use. A character may only utilize Knowledge (Forbidden) unprotected three times throughout the entity of the game. Upon exceeding this number of uses, the current character is immediately slain after the skill's resolution. This ability kills all iterations of a character simultaneously, but is specific to the identity which activated the ability and does not extend past Reflected Personas. This effect cannot be prevented by any source. Slain character's cannot be returned to life, including from such Potentials as Lesser Immortality.

Spoiler: Status

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֍ Regina +1300 (24,800xp)
HP 53/53
AC 19
⯎ Nobility Influence Gained
⯎ Deception Influence Gained
⯎ Trickery Influence Gained
⯎ Discovery Influence Gained
⯎ Magic Influence Gained
⯎ Secrets Influence Gained
⯎ Knowledge Influence Gained
⯎ Truth Influence Gained
⯎ Tapestry Influence Gained
⯎ Time Influence Gained
⯎ Dimensions Influence Gained
⯎ Fate Influence Gained
⯎ Vision Influence Gained
⯎ Light Influence Gained
⯎ Stability Influence Gained
⯎ Cold Influence Gained
⯎ Worlds Influence Gained
⯎ Death Influence Gained
⯎ Black Influence Gained
⯎ Red Influence Gained
⯎ Reflections Influence Gained
⯎ Darkness Influence Gained
⯎ Stars Influence Gained
⯎ Reality Influence Gained
⯎ Nuisance Influence Gained
⯎ Seeker Influence Gained
⯎ Forbidden Influence Gained
⯎ Planes Influence Gained
⯎ Delusion Influence Gained
⯎ Omens Influence Gained
⯎ Wandering Influence Gained
⯎ Stranded Influence Gained
⯎ Worlds Influence Gained
⯎ Real Influence Gained
⯎ Stranded Influence Gained

~~Main Quest: The Fires of Willowbrook, Part 1~~ [Complete]
Long ago the Auspex had spoken of the four years which had come and gone from behind the bars of their cages. It was impossible to know just how long it had been since then, but if there was any lesson to be had in all of it, it was that 'time was meaningless'. Strength had begun to return to them. The future was their own to command if they could just wrest it free from the dead-hands of the hell named 'Willowbrook'. That was what they had to keep telling themselves. They said it over and over again until it became truth, the only truth that mattered. It had to be that way, because if they allowed themselves to slip, they would be faced with the terror of another reality too horrible to defeat. Then the 'nothing' which loomed above them like the executioner's axe, would fall. Then they too would join it; and this time, there would be no return.
Difficulty: Moderate | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: Unknown
Primary Objective (1): ~~Flee Sector 1B~~
Primary Objective (2): ~~Escape Willowbrook Sanitarium~~

**Triskavanski** · 2020-06-05, 10:44 PM (ISO 8601)

Sheet

Faux blinked as he came to. After a few moments of disorientation, he sprang to his feet, glancing around. Feeling around his clothing and checking the pockets, as he shuddered, remembering the slick, gunky bits of human flesh he had spent the last few minutes wearing as his own life bleed out of him. But.. he wasn't covered in it anymore. He wasn't wounded. Everything actually seemed to be, well.. fine. But he wasn't too sure on that, glancing around this way and that as he nearly ignored the woman who was with him for a few moments. Nothing new coming to attack him, chew him up and spit him back out, he finally turns to her. "Is this.. real life, or is this just fantasy? Am I bleeding out, my mind trying to escape reality? Last time I opened my eyes, I almost met my demise." he clears his throat shaking his head, before moving closer to follow her "Where am I now? I tried to move up the wall when the shadows attacked but got sidestepped elsewhere, and then ran for a good while as i bleed out.. and then I woke up here.. Or dreaming I'm here."

**Mornings** · 2020-06-06, 12:16 AM (ISO 8601)

Main Quest: My Father Will Guide Me Up A Ladder To The Sky
The future was bleak. Awakening from the dream, Kazik and Erik woke to find a tragic broken world. With countless memories and years lost between them, the realization of the cruelty delivered by the magics employed against them finally begins to sink in. It was a malice beyond words, and loss beyond comprehension, where not even the awareness of it was allowed to persist... Only the emptiness. The depravity of the void which had slain every passion, every dream, every inspiration and moment that could be treasured by a mortal heart. The men they had been were dead now, in perhaps a far truer sense than any corpse could know. In some men's hearts burned the vengeance of the crippled and the wronged. In others rose the courage to let go. There were no easily won truths reclaimed from this blighted and wild dark. Here there were no words and no thoughts which escaped its thieving hand.
Difficulty: Easy | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: None
Primary Objective: Return to Ashurbanipal
Alternate Objective: Return to the Veil

22nd of Neth, Sunday | Time: 11:22pm | AR 4713 (Winter)
Varisia; Sandpoint Hinterlands
Point 323a; Ulbeph - Somewhere Below the Ruins

The Witch was about to gesture toward the door after Kazik spoke, as if to dismiss them; then Erik interjected. The ghostly thing closed her hand into a shaking fist, as if to suppress her frustration with the aged swordsman. The force of the simple hand movement resounded with the volume of a clap of thunder. Thin cracks split the stone. Kazik was fairly certain, the macabre creature was imagining the split rock to be Sir Ragnok's head; crushed like an egg. Despite the unrestrained hostility, something evidently kept the creature in check. The masked man couldn't begin to guess as to the nature of that restraint, or how it was enforced. Perhaps the Witch was simply bound by its word? Perhaps not. He imagined there was some manner of hierarchy in place, and this thing was not at the top. "Ilha'alla. A mortal wants me to teach it Lodtynn now? Drejan'sila. Spare not this world..." [Kazik | Sense Motive - Success] [Kazik | Knowledge (Nobility) - Partial] [Status (Kazik) (Erik) | The Whisper - 4 Points of Nonlethal Damage]

Erik could feel it. The shattering force tugged at him subtly, like breath upon his back. Fractures. Brief. Instantaneous. Black lines. Like a broken eclipse around the Witch's clenched black featureless hand. Spiraling off, an wave of invisible destruction he could only see in his mind came sweeping through the chamber. Only perceivable as some twisting distorting fragmentation which disassembled the ground and walls into small inch sized triangles of splintered reality - much like the existential slices which fell upon them during their final moments before the Tindalos Stalker. The triangles spun, twisted around each other, then returned to their original place in a blinding dance as the wave swept through the chamber, as if it were the very sonic CRACK of thundering sound which accosted them.

Between it. Resting behind it. Beyond it. Black. There were the glint of lights spanning somewhere across the infinite. Falling. Somewhere deep in the void, the lights begun to fade. A great whirling mass. Twisted. Screaming without voice. A thousand-thousand contorted mouths. Mute. Howling. It pulled him in. Latching into his arm. Cold piercing his bones. Twitching fingers. Caught. Black. It pulled him on across the horrid mutilated night. It was the line. The thin black line. Like a cosmic hook reeling him across the reaches existence had yet found. Then he saw it before the great door. The eyes. They saw him. [Erik | Survival - Partial]

The old mercenary came crashing into the world, again. Falling from the darkness, he smashed into himself, his familiar figure exploding beneath the weight of his conscious double in a burst of glassy dust as he hit the ground. Smoking. The frost covering his armor cracked and hissed from the sudden change in temperature. He couldn't breath. His body lurched as he spewed up a stream of black bile and blood. His left arm was black. Featureless. Frozen stiff, as if suspended in magical stasis with a quarter-sized hole in his palm. He couldn't see it. But his heart felt it. The Line. It was connected to that wound still... The more he focused the clearer it became. Like a compass needle it snapped toward the shadowy portal. [Erik | Bleeding (3 Bleed/DC 19 Heal) | Agony (Nauseated: 3 rounds) | Frozen (3d6 cold damage) ]

The Witch begun to chuckle in a sinister tone. "Greedy boy. You shouldn't have looked... Now you've wasted your questions." Immediately from the water erupted a pair of twisting blighted creatures. Rotting tightly spun bark and pustular flesh fastly weaving together, forming colossal trunks reaching up eighty feet into the air. The terrors contorted and rippled as massive limbs exploded from the sacks of flesh. Writhing tentacles the size of trees. An ovular eyeless head made of two crooked beaks, Lumbering clawed arms a hundred feet long which split into gibbering toothy maws. The cackling laughter was deafening and pervaded their senses, threatening to simply drive them mad. "Stupid things. What are you standing there for. Go ki- ....Purify, the corrupted." [Status (Kazik) (Erik) | The Whisper - 4 Points of Nonlethal Damage] [Mad Cackle (All) - DC 34 Will Save Vs 3d6 Wisdom Damage]

(Erik) Blackening: The Black Hand
A sign of one who has reached too far into the depths of the Black. Though deathly, you pressed forward. Though there would be no return, you did not falter. Crumbling. Corrupted. You dared stand before the raw essence of the Black. Stranded within the unfathomable realms of darkness. By chance, malicious will compelled you steal a drop from Elghin'Mados. Your return from the infinite maw paid with this betrayal. The puppet of some ineffable evil.
Benefit: The Blackened's arm becomes unable to hold objects but grants him the benefits of the Sense Living Weave ability. This blighted arm possesses a hardness of 30 and grants the Blackened a claw attack which deals 1d4 slashing damage and 1 point of Severance. His ability to sense and manipulate blighted energy grants him the Spellfocus unique skill with a +20 circumstance bonus. Similarly, he enjoys a +10 bonus to stability checks and gains Spite Resist 5, as the corruption has solidified his ego and steeped him in sheer cosmic negativity. These new powers increase his mental ability scores by 4 and his HD by 5.

Unfortunately, the cost of this power is the Brand he possesses, shaped as a large hole in his palm. His theft of a drop of essence from the fringes of Elghin'Mados imparts upon him a wretched curse. All mindless creatures which detect the Blackened's presence must attack him, ignoring all other creatures. All attacking creature's receive a powerful boon while attempting to kill him, increasing all metric values of their abilities, feats and spells by 1 (eg: 1d6 becomes 2d6, +2 becomes +3, 4 rounds becomes 5, etc.) Furthermore, these creatures cannot be stunned, staggered, shaken, panicked, sickened or exhausted and are immune to all mind-affecting effects which would impede their ability to pursue the Blackened. The berserk frenzy attacking creature's suffer enables them to ignore the negative effects of dying, and fight until killed. All intelligent native Second World creatures, Relicuum and Praeter are immediately aware of the Blackened's crimes upon sight and become hostile, but may or may not engage in combat based on circumstances. Protections, rights and agreements which should be honored by entities of the Second or Third World are upheld, to the absolute minimum level allowable. The Blackened looses his ability to Spellweave, use any Weave-based abilities, in addition to equipment, skills, potentials and any similar functions associated with a Fate, Relicuum or Praeter; including any Servitors he may possess which fit into this criteria. The Blackened may not be assisted by D'Inlé or other independent entities, with the exception of those from outside the Garden. Finally the Blackened cannot benefit from the services of a Teller, Speaker, Keeper, Grim or Herald in any duty which they could refuse.

The Blackened can remove this curse by sacrificing 8 HD to the Dark Teller to return the stolen drop. If he chooses to do so, this potential is replaced by the ability; Blackened: The Severing Hand, whose effects are determined based on the Blackened's sacrifices to earn forgiveness and prove his desire for recompense.

**Mornings** · 2020-06-06, 06:49 PM (ISO 8601)

Loimi Vaeltaja Has Died

Spoiler: The Toll - Existential Phases

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At the end of each round all creatures and entities, who are not exempt, must pay the respective toll of the Phase they currently inhabit. If a creature has died that round, this does not waive their responsibility to pay this debt, and the required price will be forcefully extracted from them. This cost may impact their ability to be revived or impart other changes to them after death. No further debts are incurred in subsequent rounds after their death. The nature of what constitutes 'death' within Phases above the Fifth is defined by the L'As'meral, but these rulings may be contested by the deceased before the Ra'Dolfaal.

Creatures whom have died and cannot pay the toll are removed from the game instead.

Like all things. It faded. The soft voice. The groans of unspeakable things closing in. Even the sweep of the wind. White. Silence. Nothing.

JING. The rattle of tuned rings sang the first sound heard in the featureless white spans of death. JING. It was a being of pure white light. The figure of a woman clad in flowing robes of pure formless energy. She was the the brilliance of sunlight. The unfiltered might of stars. A great ringed staff of churning white fire in one hand. Eyes of whirling nebulous emerald. The archon of white looked down upon him. The small creature's figure was beginning to dissolve, like paper left in an acidic solution, joining the absent world. "T'lar'rtek. Dos't n'b'ern f'rea pah'ntar." There was no simply translation to the common tongue, but the dissipating fragments which had once been a soul knew, she pitied him. Yet, some 'debt' remained unpaid.

With a gesture of the great illuminated entity's hand, from the small Offworlder's crumpled remains rose an unusual token. The crystal coin. The radiant one seemed to tilt its head, troubled. "Xu'dos nau'in'bal n'nhr? Usst'shl u'bnau pl'ynn ji'mzil." The coin was acceptable payment. Yet, she beckoned him if he possessed less. It was too much for her to accept. The token floated above her palm of searing light. The solar entity seemed at an impasse, until finally coming to a resolution. "Nath'Y'tssa uri'do au. Natha Tesso shlu'tas h'has'trea nin'whol dos. Fl'ohlu uns'aa." A 'Passage' had opened. A place where a 'Teller' now resided. It was he who could exchange the token, and provide the remaining change after paying the debt of his toll. He would follow her. "S'jaad'usst r'rake. Usta't'luun ul'kaas Lapalila, Il'Vel'uss S'Sussuun L'I'dol." His form evaporated into a minuscule sphere of glinting white light, racing off to cycle around the divine lady of luminescence; joining countless others. Soaring off with a speed which seemed to flatten his very perception of distance, she introduced herself.

Her name was Lapalila.
She Who Lights The Way.

**Stevesciguy** · 2020-06-06, 08:36 PM (ISO 8601)

Erik barely had time to process his return before the Witch's cackling drove an ice pick into his skull. Brought to his knees, his vision faded in and out of black, threatening to leave him unconscious on the ground. Through determination, fortitude, or sheer dumb luck, he managed to remain conscious.

The black sludge that came forth from his mouth stuck in his helmet, and he had to resist the urge to tear it off. Struggling to his feet, he looked at the cackling Witch and the two horrors behind her. His time here was up.

Gone was the man's proud stance and stride - following the grotesque compass his hand had become, his movement could more accurately be described as a meek limp, left arm dangling awkwardly at his side. At the threshold of the portal Erik glanced back at the others frozen about the room. It felt wrong to leave behind those who'd saved his life, against much of what he stood for - but there was nothing to be done in his condition. He could only hope they'd survive whatever 'Fate' the Witch had spoken of.

Looking forward, Erik passed through the black door.

Spoiler: OoC

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Nauseated: 3/3

**Mornings** · 2020-06-07, 12:02 AM (ISO 8601)

Faux Paw

The White Witch walked through the snow bobbing her head as if some jolly tune played, paying no mind to Faux as he followed. When he spoke however, she jumped in startled surprise breaking the quiet. She spun about looking at Faux in shock. "What!? ...You can speak!?" It took a moment for Faux to realize that the woman wasn't speaking Taldan, or any common tongue he was familiar with, but he understood what she said. "I don't know what you're talking about, but this is real."

The woman stepped closer, looking Faux up and down at an uncomfortable distance. "I could have sworn you were a spirit from the Che'el Talthelra..." The Witch back off from him seeming unconvinced. "You are in the realm of the Sleepless. The Far Place. It is the home for those whom have perished in the Dream. Though, those who die in the Nightmare Worlds also come here. It is ruled over by the Nightmare King, as this space belongs beneath his empire's domain. I am a volunteer Guide here, hoping to earn the favor of my elders. My master named me Ro'Ligg... Please explain. Who are you? What are you?"

Sleepless - Nightmare Traveler I
You have ventured further than most through realms best left untread and forgotten. While the burden upon your sanity and heart has been heavy, you are more resilient to its cruelty.
Benefit: The Sleepless gains a +8 bonus to all saves and checks made in any dreamscape or Dreamworld. If he would fail a save in such a place, he may choose to ignore the results of his previous save. If he chooses to do so, he rolls 2d20 while attempting the save a second time. If the save is successful he gains immunity to that effect for 1 hour. Activating this ability costs the Sleepless a number of experience points equal to 350 x the save's DC. He may attempt to use this ability multiple times against the same save should his attempt fail, however the multiplier of the experience point cost is doubled with each subsequent activation. The Sleepless' maximum HD increases by 3. (Note: Loosing all experience points within a Dreamworld could be extremely detrimental, or lead to death.)

Spoiler: Potential - Nine Lives & Illusion

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13 Nightmares - Distortion I: Nine Lives & Illusion
Things that should not be have surrounded you. Places long gone from times forgotten. The burdens of such experiences you've carried in silence, even when buried by the blighted corpses of men that had never lived. These twisted and fragmented pieces of the world should have been swept away. Deleted with the rest of the corruption. Now they blackened small spaces beneath the surface, rotting and corroding places in reality which were whole. Somehow, you'd survived longer than possible in these horrid memoryscapes, and now your secrets gave you ability beyond explanation. An anomaly that should not be.

Benefit: This ability may be activated as a free action which may be taken during any round. The Dreamer may select any one location they have visited since acquiring this potential if they have not done so already. Using this ability displaces the Dreamer from their current physical location, and into an altered dreamscape resembling the location they had chosen. The duration is determined randomly and cannot be ended until this period expires. If the Dreamer survives until the end of the duration or is slain, they are returned to a random location within one divergence of the world they were removed from. In the event the Dreamer is slain, he suffers 1d6 points of wisdom drain. If certain circumstances are met a dreamscape may be cleared. Once a dreamscape is chosen, it may not be changed again until cleared. This ability may only be activated a maximum of 9 times, however upon clearing a dream an additional use of this potential is granted. The Dreamer may take a number of willing creatures they maintain physical contact with them into this dream-state equal to their HD. If the dreamer clears nine dreamscapes he gains the Blessing of the Nightmare King potential. The Dreamer's maximum HD increases by 1.

Spoiler: Status

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֍ Faux +3,500 (11,500xp)
HP 33/33
AC 19
⯎ Survival Influence Gained
⯎ Freedom Influence Gained
⯎ Tactics Influence Gained
⯎ Death Influence Gained
⯎ Curse Influence Gained
⯎ Magic Influence Gained
⯎ Time Influence Gained
⯎ Doom Influence Gained
⯎ Truth Influence Gained
⯎ Dreams Influence Gained
⯎ Intrigue Influence Gained
⯎ Nightmare Influence Gained
⯎ Otherworld Influence Gained
⯎ Omens Influence Gained
⯎ Night Influence Gained
⯎ Knowledge Influence Gained
⯎ Insight Influence Gained
⯎ Paths Influence Gained
⯎ Sickness Influence Gained
⯎ Slaughter Influence Gained
⯎ Agility Influence Gained
⯎ Travel Influence Gained
⯎ Cold Influence Gained
⯎ Struggle Influence Gained
⯎ Grit Influence Gained
⯎ Fortitude Influence Gained
⯎ Determination Influence Gained
⯎ Regret Influence Gained
⯎ Stranded Influence Gained
⯎ Wandering Influence Gained
⯎ Guided Influence Gained
⯌ Acquired [Clear Dagger] - Unidentified

**Triskavanski** · 2020-06-07, 12:17 AM (ISO 8601)

Sheet

Faux blinked, bending backwards a she got closer and closer to him. "Woah, hold on there. So basically I am dead now. I must say though its rather nice that my clothes are not stained and filled with meat sauce anymore. Honestly its going to be very hard eating Italian for a while you know? Though I suppose there is a couple of cows around here I could get some milk from to start making cheese... but I don't have an alien costume." he hums rubbing his chin. "Okay, so I am Faux Paw the Magnificent, a magician of sorts. So where were you leading me to earlier?"

**Mornings** · 2020-06-07, 12:58 AM (ISO 8601)

Faux Paw

The woman in white looked even more bewildered, "I do not understand you. Or what is a 'magnificent' Faux Paw, but if you are a magician, this will be easier to explain." The White Witch turned and continued along the same way they were headed previously, speaking as they went. "I was guiding you out of the Furthest Reach, where I found you. If you have come here, then yes, you have died. Some spirits wander too far and end up here, those whom are still mostly whole are led back. Should you stay long, you will be consumed by L'Drada. Perhaps you magic is different. But for our people, they are fearsome things made of the negative emotions from all dreams. For you, they are very bad."

While the snow had been like a thick blizzard, the weather had begun to calm the further forward they ventured. "If you can speak, it is your ego is whole. You may be able to come up to an agreement, or find a benefactor to afford your life. The longer you stay, the less ego you will become. It is best being quick." There was obviously a conflict of communication between them as whatever medium struggled to translate their words. Whatever she language she spoke was far unlike common Taldan. Even her remarkably professional way of speaking at times had evident flaws in its grammatical structure, which was unlikely just because that was how she spoke.

Spoiler: Status

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֍ Faux +0 (11,500xp)
HP 33/33
AC 19
⯎ Survival Influence Gained
⯎ Freedom Influence Gained
⯎ Tactics Influence Gained
⯎ Death Influence Gained
⯎ Curse Influence Gained
⯎ Magic Influence Gained
⯎ Time Influence Gained
⯎ Doom Influence Gained
⯎ Truth Influence Gained
⯎ Dreams Influence Gained
⯎ Intrigue Influence Gained
⯎ Nightmare Influence Gained
⯎ Otherworld Influence Gained
⯎ Omens Influence Gained
⯎ Night Influence Gained
⯎ Knowledge Influence Gained
⯎ Insight Influence Gained
⯎ Paths Influence Gained
⯎ Sickness Influence Gained
⯎ Slaughter Influence Gained
⯎ Agility Influence Gained
⯎ Travel Influence Gained
⯎ Cold Influence Gained
⯎ Struggle Influence Gained
⯎ Grit Influence Gained
⯎ Fortitude Influence Gained
⯎ Determination Influence Gained
⯎ Regret Influence Gained
⯎ Stranded Influence Gained
⯎ Wandering Influence Gained
⯎ Guided Influence Gained
⯌ Acquired [Clear Dagger] - Unidentified

**forg99rules** · 2020-06-07, 12:42 PM (ISO 8601)

She was still a bit confused as to what was happening when Erik reached out to claim the key. It seemed like the people she was supposed to go and help had managed to save themselves. Hearing that being the Hexe's servitor was going to allow her to learn from a Powerful Witch felt like a blessing. If she could learn even a percent of what the Hexe knew, she would easily be able to keep herself alive and could gain even more power than before. Running her hands through her hair, her mind turned to the name of the Herald that she was to go assist and learn from. She rolled the name over in her head, trying to think if she had ever known the woman or if she had existed before her time. "As you say, it does appear that I am a bit lucky. There have been many times recently where I should have died due to my lack of knowledge, and yet somehow, I keep surviving. You mentioned that these people are now reclaimers, what manner of status is that? I assume that it allows them to continue to exist and perhaps provides them with some sort of boon." It did baffle her that she was still alive, her luck had been extreme as she thought back to the various times when her life should have ended because of a failure. "I have multiple questions regarding both the task you have now set for me and some of my own magic that I have gathered that I do not understand. You mention returning Ghlas, I do not recognize the name and am curious about who or what it is. As for my own abilities that I am confused about." Summoning forth one of the decks that she had created, "These cards, for example, I am not entirely sure how I would acquire more of them nor how they could best be used. I have also gained the ability to sense mana and use it to some extent, I have no knowledge regarding such power. I thus would like to bring questions of how it's used to you as well. If you would prefer, I can hold off on getting those answers till later and can proceed to assist Herald Bohka first. Though if you believe that they could be of assistance with the task given to me, then I would love to learn more regarding both of my abilities."

Spoiler: OOC

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Know Abstract: (1d20+32)[37] - For information on Herald Bohka
Know Abstract: (1d20+32)[38] - For information on Ghlas
Know Abstract: (1d20+32)[45] - For information on Reclaimers

Standard Action to Summon Deck #1
--------------------Deck 1-------------------------
The First's Chapter ____ Value 1
Svetlana Sidorenko - Iron Hawk ____ Value 10 (Parry)
Un'Khlasta - The Deathfire Tempest (II) ____ Value 18

**Mornings** · 2020-06-07, 07:24 PM (ISO 8601)

421st Day of the 1st Cycle - Time: 9th Bell / LC: 30,303
Jun'athel; L'Chandal - The Crucible
????????; ???????

There was no Veilwitch named Bohka. Alicia knew that as well any anyone. The name had been forbidden since before the March and rise of the city. There was only one such entity within the Second World who carried that name. The Shadow Bohka. Before Veilmagic was born, the Vet'Cnros clans were divided by the various means they utilized to sow their magics during ancient times. When the Lady Black descended from the Third, and gifted the clans the power of the Veil, they vowed their faith to the House of Black- but not all agreed with this subservience. The Shadow Bohka, whom was leader of the Vet'Cnros clan of Kyorrl-D'Wiess, led her people in rebellion. The D'Wiess had been descendants of the old ways, whose power rose from dark shamanism and communing with the ancient primordial forces of the greater-creation. A practice from long before the Garden was closed by the Three Houses. The greatest works of their ancient people were while acting as medium for these great cosmic entities, enabling them to weave into being the most powerful volumes of power ever conceived within the Three Worlds. As the most venerable line of the original Vet'Cnros, all clans had descended from them, but only the D'Wiess were trusted as the stewards of these books and the knowledge of their creation since antiquity.

After the Vet'Cnros came under the stewardship of the House of Black, they were demanded to relinquish custody of the artifacts and the process of their manufacture; leading to the uprising. Together with their Ros'wussrun brothers and sisters and the might of the Elil, the D'Wiess stood with the forces of Ist'Treemma'rei. United, the Shadow Bohka and the Nightmare King, CooKhul Bhav'lala, lead all the forces of the Dreamworlds to war against the Eternal King Kerym, his Kingdom of Magic and the House of Black. With every primeval force of the Black at their back, they faced L'Dalharen and their sisters in battle. It would be the second battle which would lead to the destruction of the Second World, and the first great war after the creation of the Wheel and Council. No victor would emerge from the war which would shake the heavens. The Empire of Ist'Treemma'rei was annihilated, and Kingdom of Magic would bleed out into nothing after the death of Kerym, signaling the beginning of a new age and the Long March. While both forces were utterly destroyed, legend attributes a narrow victory to the D'Wiess, as both the Shadow Bohka and the Nightmare King survived the war while the Witch King did not. However, the price of their betrayal would force both lords into hiding, least L'Dalharen capture them. With the battle concluded, King CooKhul retreated back into the Nightmare Worlds, while the Shadow Bohka supposedly gifted one of the five Books of Undibol to the Scion of Dark Seasons to pay for passage to a realm beyond the Garden known as L'Dro'sluda, the Lifechain.

In the famous stories recounting the betrayal, at least from the perspective of the Witches of Duvan, the Shadow Bohka in her primal form wasn't visible. She was just that, an invisible shadow whom was the living darkness. Like the D'Wiess of old, she carried a lantern which shed no light but created a path of absolute void to guide D'Inlé through the Black. Only a rough rattle could be heard when she passed, often leaving tears in reality where the darkness could creep out to guard those secret treasures lost by her people. As Vet'Cnros herself, the Shadow Bohka was Stella's ancient ancestor. [Alicia | Knowledge (Abstract) - Partial]

The whole business about 'Reclaimers' and Ghlas was beyond Alicia's purview however. She was Sunjath'la, not some filthy Ros'wussrun cultist. Even the business behind what a Keeper even does wasn't something she was familiar with, despite them being known to exist. As far as Duvan was concerned, there was no major influence or concern with those particular entity's existence. Truthfully, she had stepped far outside her comfort zone long ago, but she'd at least been able to piece together what she could from her over abundance of self study, but it was unlikely that anyone below an actual Hexe would even have the slightest clue what was even happening anymore... and she hadn't even graduated from Zhenu'Magath. [Alicia | Knowledge (Abstract) - Failure]

The Hexe tapped her chin in thought, "If you do... Not know. It will be... Complicated. It is not... Easy. For young ones. To understand. She... It... They... Them. Us. Is one of... The Primordial. Beings from before. Creation... But trade its. Divinity. To become Relicuum. So it became... Ghlas, Who Was... The Hunger and... Life Unending. After a time... It fulfilled its. Destined Fate. Rejoining the Weave... and reclaiming its. Divinity." The unsettling Witch begun filling a new cup and adding blocks of sugar. "It is curious. As some of... your questions. Are related. The Terminating Prescience... Was created by. Your ancestors. That is to... say. A Vet'Cnros artifact. I was raised... Ros'wussrun. So I do... not. Understand its mechanical. Function. But perhaps Bohka... might, enlighten you."

The Witch leaned back as she picked up the cup and small plate, taking another sip. "Mana is... the raw. Unfiltered... energy of existence. Mortals often cannot... process. Or interpret it. It is... Difficult to handle. Yet. It is. The building blocks... Of creation. The most base. Form of energy. Learning to work. With so crude... an energy. Is admirable. Challenging. It is... the old way. Of Ros'wussrun. And Vet'cnros. Before the Veil. Sunjath'la mock it... as medieval. But they have. Forgotten. You must understand... The root. To grow. The tree... Most who only... know. Refined energy. In other states. Do not understand. It is finite. Mana must be... Reformed into. The processed. Form. Which they use. Mana is finite. The cosmic energy. Of... the Three Worlds. Is limited. It comes from... The Source. From Ghlas." Alicia, like all Sunjath'la girls had been intimately familiar with the Source. If there was a 'god' for Sunjath'la, it was that. The root of all energy and magic which was drawn from, and refined into the Weave. While many became distracted and enamored with the might of the Fulldark Stone, as it existed as the manifestation of all gathered magics. It was nothing more than a receptacle which refined energy was deposited, not the Source. Rather, the Source could not be contained. It was infinite universal cycle of rebirth. A cosmic crushing engine which consumed not merely universes, but all creation, to expel raw untapped energy back into the void, fueling continued life in the Three Worlds. It gave out an incomprehensible amount of energy, far beyond what it consumed. Birthing life, consuming life, to create unfathomable amounts of life. The Source was the perfect endless cycle, a system without waste.

"Ghlas is... The Source. It belongs in. L'Chandal. The Crucible. It houses. The fires... Of creation. The corruption. You introduced. So close. Drew its attention. It consumes... corruption. Of L'Dalharen... More than, anything. It has. Bled into... The Veil. After the Passage... Was reclaimed. Bohka is skilled. Communing with forces. But. She cannot... do it alone. Ghlas will not... Listen. Until its hunger. Is sated. Bohka communes with... The Scion. Of Dark Seasons. For the means. To gather an... offering. To sate... The Infinite. You will... Harvest energy. From the Veil. With Bohka. The Scion is... Sister. To Ghlas. Both consumed. By... A dark hunger. She will know... What is best." The Witch placed down her empty cup upon the table before rising once again. With a gesture toward the mirror, the glassy surface sunk back upon itself, dissolving into a black featureless hole. "The Houses have... Already, been made. Aware. Lady Black has... Dispatched Adessa. To resolve the... matter. In her own... way. You only have... Until. She reaches a... Resolution. With... The Dark Teller. To prepare... Your offering. Now. You must go."

Global Quest: The Cleft of Five Worlds, Part 1: The Black Harvest
The Source has bled into the World Veil. The long term consequences of Stella's meddling have created a corruption strong enough to compel the origin of all energy within the multiverse. Together with the Shadow Bohka, the Witches of the Black begun to congregate upon the isolated universe. Gone are the petty qualms of the Che'el Talthelra. Countless forces begin to descend upon the unsuspecting world for their own ends, driven by greed at the unprecedented opportunity. The Black Magister entered a race against time to find a solution, before the Whispering Witch created her own.
Difficulty: Legendary | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: Unknown
Primary Objective:
- Meet the Shadow Bohka

Main Quest: The Wild Dark - Dreaming, The Nightmare King (Quest Lost)
A narrow escape from the plotting of the House of the First has only revealed an infighting between the L'Dalharen, with Alicia in the center of the conflict. Sentenced unto servitude, the Witch of Jun'athel now guides them forward unto the unknown to seek audience with the Nightmare King.
Difficulty: Moderate | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: None
Primary Objective:
- Acquire Arborization
- Depart L'Chandal
- ~~Escort The Keeper, Gran Hexe B'Belka'tevel~~

Main Quest: At The Gates of Sleep (Quest Lost)
Gran Hexe B'Belka'Tevel, finding Stella's actions as the root cause for the corruption seeping into the Veil of Jun'athel, has charged her with a monumental task. The preservation of the Veil and its hosts. Now nominated as a Servant-Herald, there was no other choice left before her but putting an end to the chaos her presence had ushered, once and for all.
Difficulty: Moderate | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: None
Primary Objective:
- Construct Wussrun'Khel Avatar
- Enter the World Veil

Spoiler: Rewards | EXP

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֍ Stella XP +4400 (185,400xp)
⯎ Sovereignty Influence Gained
⯎ Nobility Influence Gained
⯎ Liberation Influence Gained
⯎ Community Influence Gained
⯎ Discovery Influence Gained
⯎ Travel Influence Gained
⯎ Wisdom Influence Gained
⯎ Occult Influence Gained
⯎ Veil Influence Gained
⯎ Evil Influence Gained
⯎ Nightmare Influence Gained
⯎ Curse Influence Gained
⯎ Defense Influence Gained
⯎ Justice Influence Gained
⯎ Memory Influence Gained
⯎ Worlds Influence Gained
⯎ Fate Influence Gained
⯎ Time Influence Gained
⯎ Faith Influence Gained
⯎ Ascension Influence Gained
⯎ Guilt Influence Gained
⯎ Hated Influence Gained
⯎ Subservient Influence Gained
⯎ Transcendent Influence Gained
⯎ Apprentice Influence Gained
⯎ Duty Influence Gained
⯎ Servitude Influence Gained
⯎ Dreams Influence Gained
⯎ Ancestors Influence Gained
⯎ Origin Influence Gained
⯎ Divinity Influence Gained
⯎ Dreamworlds Influence Gained
⯎ Acquired [Strange Item]
✦ Corrupted Fate (Ra'Dolfaal)
⯎ Gem of Telepathy: 3/5 Charges, 3 min duration - Identified use with UMD

SpellWeaving:
Successfully casting a Spellweave costs the Witch a number of focus points equal to Spell Level + 1.
The Witch may attempt a number of Spellweaving Checks per day equal to her Aptitude.

Alicia HP: 8 (13) / 22
Istrei'D'Val Barrier: 450/450
Focus: 27/28
Mana: 1/10
Reputation: 25
Memory: 3
Spite: 1
Honor: 311
SV. Exp: 2 (Severance)
Weave Exp: 175
Veil Exp: 1,000

Spoiler: The Reflected Alter

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Praying at the alter requires a Spell Focus check and 1d8 hours of uninterrupted meditation to establish a connection with the herald. Alicia receives no way of judging the success or failure of her attempt. Cumulative penalties are applies for very 4 hours of meditation taken from loosing focus over a prologed period of time. These penalties stack with conditions accrued from other sources such as starvation or dehydration.

Spoiler: Alicia Kelgore - Conflicted Mind

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Alicia and Stella must maintain a constant state of balance to stay in harmony with one another, however doing this is not a simple task as the Veil evolves. Alicia will progressively shift in alignment as the Veil grows and the two personalities shift further and further apart from one another, prompted by various Spell Focus checks while both performing magic and having new experiences which the Veil attempts to adapt into the persona's fabricated history. Furthermore the Veil is capable of enforcing its own canonical history as if by means of a Divergence. At the beginning and end of each day both persona's must make an opposed spell focus check, granting advantage to the victor for the next 8 hours. The persona with advantage gains a +5 circumstance bonus to all other checks against the other identity. If Stella begins to fail more and more checks her control of Alicia will begin to diminish, introducing new influences or opposing actions which she must succeed an ego check to interrupt. Further effects from the Veil may be acquired from constant failed checks. This Veil may be dismissed by revisiting the mirror and spending 1 minute in meditation.

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