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Found 9 results

  1. [[ A continuation from the finale of Dark Star Rising. ]] The old wooden door of the Gallow's End Tavern swung open with that same familiar creak. The last billows of the squall that had crashed into the Northern coast of Tirisfal whipped into the inn behind the trudging form of Khorvis Bloodstar until he pressed the door shut with a tired grunt. Brill had been only a short march from the Whispering Forests, and the old orc had needed some time and space to clear his head. Exhausted as he was, Khorvis did not fail to notice the guarded looks that the patrons and staff gave the newcomer. It had been nearly a year since the chaos he had caused while under the influence of Mannoroth's blood, but the citizens of Brill were unlikely so quickly forget. Fortunately for him, the immediate presence of the Grim Halls and the restorative work of the Mandate upon the Glades would likely prevent a stealthy dagger in his spine. Saddling up upon an empty stool, Khorvis rested his elbows upon the bar and cradled his forehead in his hands. The damage to his mechanical left eye had ceased sparking and twitching, but the gaping hole still ached. Another piece of him missing, lost to the Shadowlands. He had departed the ritual circle quickly after reassuring Lilliana that he was fine. The troll woman could exhibit such motherly tendencies, but Khorvis had been in no mood for it. The sight of Theira's corpse and the knowledge of what they had locked behind the closing gate had been simply too much for the warrior's heart. A tersely bitten thanks, an embrace or two, a stone-faced salute, and off Bloodstar wandered through the pines - anywhere, just away from that still Tauren and the odd flower that had sprouted from her chest. At first he had angled to the Northeast, towards the Grim Halls overlooking the North Sea, but the night and the elements slowly altered his course towards Brill. The entire debacle would require some explaining, and he was not in the right state of mind to confront Commander Stonespire. Not yet. A smart warchief knew he must fight on solid ground, on terrain of his choosing. The Commander was a hard, unfeeling plinth of stone. If Khorvis wanted to escape that encounter with his hide, he would need a clear mind. So the Inquisitor found himself staring at the worn wood of the Gallow's End bar. A rough clay mug of mulled wine was pushed between his elbows. Looking up, Khorvis gave Innkeeper Renee a lukewarm smile that failed to touch his tusks. The woman returned the look with a curt nod and swept away, her tattered skirts hissing over the stone floor like a worn straw broom. It was amazing that after all these years, Miss Lauer still kept the Gallow's End running at its efficient, if rickety, pace. Truly a stalwart and indispensable member of the Horde. The thought brought him back to recent events. Theira. Mai'kull. Why had they sacrificed themselves for him? The fools! Both were important pillars of the Horde, necessary for the war against the Legion. Against the Alliance! It was such a bloody waste... Khorvis was long past his prime. The gut wound delivered by Shokkrah and the mess of his eye ached in tandem, echoing the testament. These were dangerous times, when the Horde and the Mandate required every able body to muster. Damn those addled Mad! The bar shook under the blow of Khorvis's clenched fist. Fortunately for the inn, he was unarmored, only clad in leather, though the patrons cast souring glares at the Lasher. He offered them a grumpy, conciliatory wave, returning to his drink. Taking a long swig, he let the burning wine ride down his raw throat and set the mug down. Excess liquid dripped from his beard and jowls, splashing onto the waxed counter. The deep crimson hue caught the orc's eye. He could think only of the Matron, her broken and bloody body still in the grass of the Whispering Forest's floor. His own blood had mingled with the druidess's as he had wept above her corpse. Fate was cruel. Khorvis had allowed himself very few fantasies over the years since crossing the Dark Portal. The notion of a mate, nevermind a family, was for him always a forbidden prospect, a foolish dalliance that would have only left him weak and vulnerable. It was only later in life that cracks had begun to show in that armor, and not until he had encountered the Matron of Rutilus Luna. They had never expressed any oaths or commitments, beyond the professional pact between The Grim and the Rutilans upon Thunder Bluff. Only a mutual understanding of shared sacrifice. Of a similar wish for a more peaceful world. A glance here, in the lull of battle. A hand held there, at dusk above the Gurubashi Arena. Khorvis had never let the wish touch his tongue, for fear of the inevitable. That dream had died in the Shadowlands. He took another gulp of the wine, his throat choking up under the emotional duress, and nearly spat out his drink into the hearth. Coughing and hacking, the orc wiped away at his beard with the back of his wrist. He should have expected no less. Khorvis was not a mortal made for anything but warfare. Born behind catapults firing upon Shattrath and suckled upon the blood of draenei, Bloodstar was bred to orchestrate death. He was tailored for the Mandate. Bury those foolish fantasies down deep where they could never emerge. Staring morbidly about the tavern, Khorvis noticed several trophies donated by The Grim. A broken stormhammer hung above a sidetable. To the left of the liquor stores were encased in a dusty cabinet several medals for honor upon the Battlegrounds. And over the hearth was mounted the head of doomguard, its ebon horns spanning at least as wide as a prone human. Khorvis would need to report the death of Reaper Mai'kull. The mage had shown exceptional valor in the face of overwhelming odds. His name would enter the rolls with distinguished heroism. A final Grim trinket caught the warrior's eye. A pamphlet advertising the Mandate, nailed to a post in the center of the tavern. The next gathering was soon, here in Tirisfal. Clearly his subordinates were carrying on with the good work of the Inquisition, though Khorvis had had little reason to doubt Ruuki. In his mind, it was settled. The High Inquisitor would return to the Grim the following night, at the Inquisition, and hopefully buttressed from the wrath of Commander Stonespire.
  2. Penumbra

    The forgotten shadow of a horrid plague... Echoes of a dead necromancer, drifting in the void... And a terrible secret to be unlocked.
  3. Written by Le'Sara: The following is a translated transcript from a book within the Scarlet Monastery that discusses Penumbra. I was tasked to provide this transcript by Khorvis. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Brother Abendicus, Year 505 of the King's Calendar, Stormwind City, Cloister of the Light. Two nights past, Brother Entin awoke the Cloister in a fit of screams. Three of our order came upon his chambers to find the anointed scion huddled in a corner, snapping at any hand outstretched in aid or friendship like a wounded curr. I, myself, assigned a ward of two Brothers to stand guard outside of Entin's chambers throughout the dark watch. It was in vain. We entered the room at dawn to find our Brother soiled and hung by his own hand and bedsheets. The guards had heard nothing. Behind his swollen corpse was writing in ichor upon the stone wall in a hand most unlike the comely pen I had come to cherish. "PENUMBRA" Brother Entin makes the third this month. I pray to the Holy Light that our spirits may be spared any further torment. I know not what crime blackens our Cloister. -- Brother Abendicus, Year 506 of the King's Calendar, Storwind City, Cloister of the Light. The ghost of Shadow haunts the corriders of our cursed sanctuary. The magelords whisper of a dark star eclisping Azeroth, yet they refuse any audience with the Order. I pity their souls. Some of our order have begun recounting visions, received both in slumber and in waking. Shards of the Void slice against their prayers. A Shadow that walks on legs penetrates their dreams and casts a pallor upon the mass. I would question their sanity and faith, had I not seen it myself. Below the Cloister, among the crypts of our forebears, I spent a day and night in fast and prayer against the tomb of my predecessor. Father Fridien was the most devout of the cloth that I have ever known. Wavering faith shivered and straightened into wrought iron backing at the very sound of his sermon. The flock knew their bounds and duty under his crook. To follow such a man is still an exercise in humility. Such is proven bitterly true, moreso now. I saw the Shadow with mine own waking eyes. A gaping hole into perpetual Void, it sucked in the light of every votive. It engulfed the Light itself. And it spoke to me. "Abandon all. Annihilation awaits. Rejoin with the nothing." I fell forward against the stone, for the tomb of Father Fridien crumbled in my very arms. Dust is all that remains. -- Brother Abendicus, Year 506 of the King's Calendar, Stormwind City, Cloister of the Light. There is no escape from the Void. May it consume us all. The dark star calls. -- Brother Cardith, Year 506 of the King's Calendar, Stormwind City, Academy of Arcane Arts and Sciences. Our flight from the Cloister was swift and full of terror. Brother Abendicus... no, he is no longer a Brother of the Holy Light. Abendicus led a flock of traitors through the corridors, unleashing something terrible against his own order. Spells borne of Shadow, driving the devout to screams and tearing of the eyes. Flesh stripped like robes in a shower of the Void. And alongside the dark host walked a being of pure night. We survivors take refuge now with the arcanists in the Academy. Few possessions were we able to escape with in our horror. I read now the madness that consumed Abendicus. We must rally. Brother Cardith, Year 507 of the King's Calendar, Stormwind City, Cloister of the Light. Victory is bittersweet. Alongside our brothers and sisters of the Arcane, we of the cloth drove the traitors into the catacombs. The siege lasted for two weeks while the very stones of the Cathedral boiled with Shadow. So many faithful friends lost to this nightmare... my heart weeps. At last we confronted the Traitor and his dark manipulator in the lowest levels. Our forces were too slow. Abendicus turned to me and spoke in a voice that echoed as if from a place in some distant quadrant of the sky. "What is life, but an pale memory of the First chaos? The foundations of your temple are as brittle as the sparrow's bone. Penumbra calls you home, Brother." I sent outwards with my righteousness a focus of the Holy Light, seeking the decapitate the dark being by Abendicus's side, but the two had already embraced. The Void sucked inwards at our forces and I mourn the loss of my fingernails, ripped from my flesh in my desperate hold upon a sarcophagus. Where Abendicus and the walker had stood now was nothing save a shard of bone, cleaved by my own spell. Those of the faith shudder to touch it, for it sickens the spirit to gaze upon. -- Inquisitor Fayleth Caudin, Year 617 of the King's Calendar, Tirisfal Glades, Athenaeum of the Monastery. The timid priests of the Cathedral of Light do not even know what decays in their hallowed catacombs. The essense of Penumbra will always be a threat to the Human race. Perennial and lurking, the darkness will no doubt rear its many heads to devour the remainder of its victims. My father was wise to flee their weak order and secede with his power this tome. May the Light shield our people from the night, for the priests of Stormwind are blind.
  4. After completing his evening stroll, Khorvis once again ascended the hidden stairs of his chambers. His spirits were high, and despite the tragedy of the circumstances of his birth, the orcish mind can be prone to moments of grandeur. Father Maledictus is alive. Simply assigning verbal form to the prayer gave the thought a power too great to be ignored. It would have been madness to dream it some few days ago, but now... Now was the time to release the hounds. He could waste no time. Every night the trail grew colder, and the Grim could not depend upon the stupid luck that had graced both Reaper Bishoph and Khorvis's big toe. Erect before an ancient standing deck carved of ebony and mahogany, the High Inquisitor let the chaos of the Nether, some few feet outside the enchanted glass of the observatory, roil and thunder over his pen. Reaper Baalthemar, You did be present in body and spirit at the Inquisition, three nights past. We both witnessed the evidence presented before the assembled Grim, from relics unearthed by both my boot and the new Reaper Steele. The tale of the Necromancer is not ended, despite the lore told to us. More still - he sought a greater weapon in the fight against the Alliance! It do be our duty, as those sworn to the Mandate, to follow the trail left by Father Maledictus and win back this weapon for the Horde. "Penumbra" he writes. I do not know this word, and think it likely the object of arcanists or priests. None of our own has made any inquiry into the Archives, as far as the Keepers know, and likely there do be nothing to be found, if our comrades have failed to secure it. The one who may know is this "Payson." I know not whether he or she still draws breath, for many years have passed since the days of the Rat, but it bears the diligence of our scouts. I do task you, rogue, with finding Maledictus's last confidant and evoking from its lips every parcel of information that remains within its skull. Use any means necessary, the full weight of the Inquisition rides behind you. Show us the way. High Inquisitor Bloodstar
  5. Penumbra... 18:35:27 Khorvis-TwistingNether gets to his feet. "Well told, Shadowblade. The King of Rats evaded our earnest efforts, but not for lack of trying." 18:35:30 Lupinum nods at Nokokomah. 18:35:39 Sevris-Ravenholdt looks away. 18:36:16 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: We might all learn much from the trials of those who came before us. 18:36:21 Lilliana eyes Khorvis up and down. 18:36:27 Sevris-Ravenholdt looks at Khorvis. 18:36:29 Khorvis-TwistingNether paces about the fire, stomping through the much of Brackenwall. 18:36:38 [Lupinum-TwistingNether]: Their blood brought us closer to Peace. 18:36:53 Awatu-TwistingNether keeps his eyes focused on the flames. 18:36:57 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Years of war, each one adorned with scalps and ears of the pinkskinned menace. 18:37:34 [Sevris-Ravenholdt]: Cristok... 18:37:42 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: There do be rows of graves in Brill's Cemetery devoted to Grim who have passed into the spirit realm. 18:38:03 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Why, one day, each of you may make it your final resting- 18:38:04 Lilliana-TwistingNether watches Khorvis as he stomps around the fire and them.....listening. 18:38:19 Khorvis-TwistingNether stumbles in the muck and barks in pain. "Bloody fel, my toe!" 18:38:19 Lupinum-TwistingNether practically scoffs at Khorvis. 18:38:31 Khorvis kneels down. 18:38:32 Nokokomah-TwistingNether looks down at what Khorvis tumbled over. 18:38:36 Awatu-TwistingNether blinks as Khorvis yelps. 18:38:48 Khorvis-TwistingNether | He glances down and points at an unearthed crate while fuming. "What in the Nether do that be?" 18:38:58 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: Something was buried here. 18:39:07 Lesara kneels down. 18:39:16 Xekanjo lets out a hearty chuckle. 18:39:17 Lesara-TwistingNether kneels down to examine the ground. 18:39:31 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Just admit you tripped over nothing. 18:39:32 Lilliana-TwistingNether gets up, now curious. 18:39:39 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: May I? 18:39:50 [Songbelle-TwistingNether]: It's not mine. 18:39:53 Lupinum-TwistingNether steps closer. 18:39:54 Nathandiel-TwistingNether is confused 18:39:55 [Lesara-TwistingNether]: it looks to have been here for years, judging by the condition it's in. 18:39:58 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Bah, it has old markings. 18:40:06 Lupinum pets Castor. 18:40:11 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Go on. 18:40:11 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Oh wait, you tripped on tha - what is that? 18:40:19 Nokokomah-TwistingNether calls the element of earth to her. The ground moves away from the crate on its own accord, causing it to rise to the surface. 18:40:31 Sevris-Ravenholdt stares off into the distance. 18:40:55 Lesara-TwistingNether backs away as a hole forms around the crate. 18:40:56 Songbelle-TwistingNether jumps up and down.. "Open it Open it!!!" 18:41:05 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Grim. Someone retrieve a crowbar. This bloody thing reeks! 18:41:17 [Dunze-Ravenholdt]: Maybe it be some ogre shit? 18:41:22 [Awatu-TwistingNether]: Why are we digging up garbage? 18:41:25 Nokokomah-TwistingNether is fresh out of crowbars. 18:41:25 [Lesara-TwistingNether]: A crowbar will not be needed. 18:41:31 [Lesara-TwistingNether]: If i may? 18:41:37 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: ye can pop it with me dagger. 18:41:38 Sevris-Ravenholdt steps forward, to offer his blade. 18:41:45 Khorvis-TwistingNether gets to his feet and awaits. 18:41:55 Ruuki-TwistingNether peers at Khorvis curiously, wondering how he could have possibly hurt himself with those thick, filthy boots he wears... 18:41:58 [Sevris-Ravenholdt]: Use this. 18:42:00 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: careful. Who knows what might be in there.. 18:42:02 Lesara-TwistingNether waves a hand over the box. The locks spring open. 18:42:23 Khorvis-TwistingNether | After prying open the mud-caked seals, the aged crate shows its contents to the light of day after a decade of neglect. Resting within is a rack of five stoppered phials, each swirling with a different virulence. 18:42:36 Khorvis-TwistingNether | The last tube, pulsing with black portent, seems to suck in the light of its surroundings, though that may be a trick of torches. Beneath the phials rots a deteriorating tome bearing the sigil of the Mandate upon its black leather binding. 18:42:39 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: What is that? 18:42:53 [Songbelle-TwistingNether]: that looks like... 18:42:53 [Lilliana-TwistingNether]: Oh.....oh. 18:42:55 Lilliana looks at Khorvis. 18:42:56 [Aderlee-Ravenholdt]: Whoa. 18:42:57 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Some sort of, sauce? 18:42:58 [Lesara-TwistingNether]: looks... like old Grim materials. 18:43:04 Dunze-Ravenholdt turns and looks at Blueberry "Ey!, did you make da mess again!?!?" 18:43:10 [Xekanjo-TwistingNether]: Oooooooh, mebbe it be tasty tings! 18:43:15 Nokokomah-TwistingNether looks at Lilliana, hearing the recognition in the trolless's voice. 18:43:26 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Oh ye don't figure it's ... 18:43:27 Lupinum-TwistingNether frowns, sensing his own Light being drawn towards the crate, if only minutely. 18:43:29 Sevris-Ravenholdt peers at Ruuki searchingly. 18:43:39 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Mal's. 18:43:41 Xekanjo-TwistingNether moves over to the vials, and tries to pick one up. 18:43:41 [Sevris-Ravenholdt]: This doesn't seem... right. 18:43:53 Nokokomah-TwistingNether puts her hand on Xek's arm to stop him. 18:44:01 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: Caution. 18:44:06 Sevris-Ravenholdt is prepared to protect Ruuki. 18:44:10 Lesara-TwistingNether kneels back down and looks into the box, reaching a hand in. 18:44:18 [Xekanjo-TwistingNether]: Caushun? Datta name? 18:44:26 Nokokomah-TwistingNether can't reach to stop Le'sara. 18:44:28 [Lesara-TwistingNether]: No telling how volitile some of this could be. it needs to be handled with care. 18:44:33 Lesara kneels down. 18:44:41 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Maybe a deader ought te handle it. 18:44:44 Lupinum-TwistingNether furrows his brows. 18:44:48 [Lupinum-TwistingNether]: I agree with Atticus. 18:44:49 Ruuki-TwistingNether still has a bit of curiosity, and she moves closer to see for herself, especially at the mention of it being old Grim materials. 18:44:55 Lesara blinks. 18:44:57 Sevris-Ravenholdt blinks at Ruuki. 18:45:04 Awatu-TwistingNether looks over, confused. "What in the... " 18:45:09 Lilliana-TwistingNether doesn't do anything until Khorvis or Awatu comments. 18:45:10 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Aye maybe Lupinum should handle it. 18:45:16 [Xekanjo-TwistingNether]: Awwwww. 18:45:19 Sevris-Ravenholdt just backs off, slowly. 18:45:23 [Xekanjo-TwistingNether]: But it lookka tastee! 18:45:28 Lupinum snorts derisively at Atticus. 18:45:43 Khorvis-TwistingNether shrugs at Lupinum and gestures at the contents. 18:45:44 Lesara-TwistingNether glances up at the leaders. "The desicion is yours." 18:45:47 [Lupinum-TwistingNether]: Fine. 18:45:50 Mortica-TwistingNether cocks her head to the side 18:45:58 Lesara-TwistingNether nods at the undead priest and backs away. 18:46:10 Lupinum-TwistingNether kneels and looks at the small phials for a moment. 18:46:11 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Looks like bloody leftovers to my eyes. But I do be no alchemist. 18:46:17 Lupinum kneels down. 18:46:18 Khorvis-TwistingNether backs away. 18:46:35 [Lupinum-TwistingNether]: Neither am I... 18:46:46 Songbelle-TwistingNether nudges Syreena... "Maybe you could identify!" 18:46:48 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: I wonder if the stuff'll work better, or different, now that it be so old. 18:46:56 Syreena peers at Songbelle searchingly. 18:47:09 Lupinum-TwistingNether cracks a grin and reaches toward the dark phial. 18:47:14 [Aderlee-Ravenholdt]: Dey worth takin' a look at, if we can learn anating from dem. 18:47:14 [Lesara-TwistingNether]: Who among us IS an alchemist? 18:47:24 [Mortica-TwistingNether]: I am 18:47:26 [Fremen-TwistingNether]: Not I sadly... 18:47:36 Lesara nods at Mortica. 18:47:38 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Me but not this kind of Alchemist. 18:48:06 [Mortica-TwistingNether]: I am...familiar with the Royal Apothecary from that era 18:48:12 Nokokomah looks at Mortica. 18:48:19 Lupinum-TwistingNether gently removes the single jar, raising it up to catch the glare of the flames. 18:48:23 [Canai-TwistingNether]: I am one, but these don't look safe to handle. 18:48:38 [Lupinum-TwistingNether]: Then perhaps you can helps us, Mortica... 18:48:39 [Aderlee-Ravenholdt]: Hehe, I'd 'andle it. 18:48:40 [Mortica-TwistingNether]: although I was not a Grim at that time, so I could not tell you of any...special treatment Mal did to these 18:48:46 [Songbelle-TwistingNether]: There's a book in there... what's it say? 18:49:25 Lesara-TwistingNether looks down at the book. "May I?" 18:49:28 Lilliana-TwistingNether looks at Mortica, "I wouldn't know either, I was like, just a kid in the Grim." Still almost looks like a kid now, well, a teenager just on the cusp to adulthood, anyway. 18:49:48 Mortica grins wickedly at Lilliana. 18:49:52 [Masuabie-Ravenholdt]: Aye, it could be a tasty brew and the book could be the long lost recipe. 18:50:00 [Mortica-TwistingNether]: doubtful 18:50:06 [Syreena-TwistingNether]: Pincus might know, if he could be reached. 18:50:07 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Bah, bloody go on. The damn things have no teeth that I can see. 18:50:12 [Songbelle-TwistingNether]: This Pandaren doesn't think so. 18:50:13 Masuabie-Ravenholdt || Blood Parrot Squawks "Rawk! Someone taste it! Rawk!" 18:50:24 Syreena grins wickedly at Khorvis. 18:50:26 Lupinum-TwistingNether shrugs and goes to move the rest, leaving a clear path to grab the book. 18:50:33 Lesara-TwistingNether kneels down and carefully fishes the book out, examining the bindings. 18:50:49 Nokokomah-TwistingNether watches Le'sara. 18:50:56 [Lesara-TwistingNether]: It certainly SEEMS auspicious enough... 18:51:18 Mortica-TwistingNether frowns and hunches forward 18:52:06 Masuabie-Ravenholdt stares intently while sipping from his tankard of ale. 18:52:25 Lesara-TwistingNether | The tome, at the first touch of a sentient Grim, snaps open with a raging fan of pages and floats of its own accord some few feet above the floor. A sickly pallor settles over the congregation and the pages rest at the last entry, penned in a 18:52:32 Nathandiel-TwistingNether jumps up and down. "What's in the box!?" 18:52:40 Baalthemar grins wickedly at Nathandiel. 18:52:46 Lesara-TwistingNether | > scrawling Gutterspeak. 18:52:46 Lupinum-TwistingNether stares at the levitating book. 18:52:57 Nathandiel-TwistingNether shuts up. 18:53:16 Lilliana-TwistingNether leaps back, seemingly shocked. 18:53:18 [Lesara-TwistingNether]: I... i didn't do that! It just... opened! 18:53:19 Nokokomah-TwistingNether casts a healing rain to counter to sickening aura. 18:53:26 Syreena peers at Lesara searchingly. 18:53:30 Nathandiel-TwistingNether holds his belly. 18:53:31 Xekanjo-TwistingNether looks around, "Ooooooh!" 18:53:35 Lupinum-TwistingNether works his jaw and looks at the script. 18:53:37 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: What in the bloody fel... 18:53:50 Lesara-TwistingNether grimaces and looks green in the face as she looks at the entry. 18:53:56 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: What does it say? 18:54:22 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Ye want I should read this? 18:54:31 [Lupinum-TwistingNether]: That roach, Payson, was right. I must seek the blood of the Void, a toxin... 18:54:35 Khorvis-TwistingNether | written in Gutterspeak: "...That roach, Payson, was right. I must seek the blood of the void, a toxin black beyond death. The Rat's flesh shall be fertile soil for the seed of Penumbra." 18:54:43 Syreena looks at Lupinum. 18:54:50 Lupinum-TwistingNether coughs and looks around. 18:55:04 Lupinum-TwistingNether might look like it was difficult to even say those words. 18:55:19 Lilliana-TwistingNether looks swiftly between Lupinum and Atticus. 18:55:25 [Lesara-TwistingNether]: ...well, what does it say? 18:55:28 Mortica-TwistingNether snorts *Payson* 18:55:33 Nokokomah-TwistingNether frowns after it is translated. "Penumbra?" 18:55:42 Lupinum-TwistingNether looks at the vial in his hand. 18:55:54 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: That roach, Payson, was right. I must seek the blood of the Void, a toxin... 18:56:07 Bishoph-Ravenholdt recognizes that strange word. 18:56:18 [Baalthemar-TwistingNether]: The blood of the void. Demons perhaps? 18:56:21 [Lesara-TwistingNether]: ..."Black beyond death"? 18:56:24 Lupinum-TwistingNether slowly works the cork up out of the neck, until it releases with a foul pop. 18:56:31 Nokokomah looks at Lupinum. 18:56:37 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: a toxin black beyond death. The Rat's flesh shall be fertile soil for the seed of Penumbra. 18:56:53 Lilliana-TwistingNether is pretty close to the crate, considering she's pretty much looking over Lupinum and Atticus's shoulders! 18:56:59 Masuabie-Ravenholdt starts chanting under his breath "Drink it..drink it..drink it." 18:57:01 Khorvis-TwistingNether | Black tendrils snake their way out of the Necromancer's final concoction. Their inky malevolence creeps with frightening speed towards the living before evaporating into a dusky mist that temporarily blinds the sight. 18:57:10 Khorvis-TwistingNether | Stretched between the moments of breath and consciousness, any afflicted are assaulted by a vision of shadow. The vast spaces between fading stars and dimming nebulae overwhelm you with a crushing sense of loss. 18:57:11 Lilliana-TwistingNether elbows Masuabie hard in the side. 18:57:14 Nathandiel-TwistingNether 's squeals. 18:57:16 Nokokomah-TwistingNether throws down a totem just as the tendrils disappeart. 18:57:17 Khorvis-TwistingNether | And hanging in the abyssal gulf drifts a singularity of existential dread. As quickly as the impression encroached, it scatters into your periphery. 18:57:35 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: Beware! 18:57:41 Lilliana-TwistingNether yells, that's scary! 18:57:48 Xekanjo-TwistingNether mutters something and begins seizuring, his entire form contorting on the ground as his arms and limbs seize up. 18:57:49 Xekanjo lies down before Khorvis. 18:57:57 [Aderlee-Ravenholdt]: Whoa- 18:58:02 Nokokomah-TwistingNether falls to a knee. 18:58:03 Lupinum-TwistingNether looks down at his hands, unsure of what he just saw, or why he opened the phial... 18:58:04 Nokokomah kneels down. 18:58:12 [Fremen-TwistingNether]: look 18:58:18 Mortica-TwistingNether drops to her knees 18:58:22 Mortica kneels before Lilliana. 18:58:22 Lesara-TwistingNether falls to her knees and grips her head as she's assaulted... and then rather quickly it vanishes. However, she still let out a gasp of pain, and as she fell, a ring of flame appeared around her. 18:58:32 [Xekanjo-TwistingNether]: HHRKKGKgKgiKGknLLKKRL! 18:58:36 Nathandiel-TwistingNether sobs 18:58:38 Xekanjo-TwistingNether makes noises akin to a spasming murloc. 18:58:39 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Huh. 18:58:47 Fremen-TwistingNether shuts his mouth... thats what he gets for thinking out loud. 18:58:57 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: There were a hell of a thing. 18:59:07 Baalthemar-TwistingNether grunts and shakes his head to rid himself of the foul thoughts. 18:59:13 [Songbelle-TwistingNether]: I no think that was brew. 18:59:15 Xekanjo lies down. 18:59:19 Ruuki-TwistingNether scowls and reaches her hand for her weapon, unsure of what the tendrils were. She knew that if she swung, however, she'd possibly hit her comrades, and so she held herself steady. 18:59:29 Bishoph-Ravenholdt prays softly to himself. 18:59:29 Nathandiel-TwistingNether holds his own hand. 18:59:42 Xekanjo lies down. 18:59:43 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Peace!!! 18:59:46 Nokokomah-TwistingNether murmurs a prayer to the elements for strength, and slowly rises back to her feet. 18:59:56 Lesara-TwistingNether pants heavily, looking utterly terrified, the fire she created dying down. 19:00:00 Fremen pokes Syreena. Hey! 19:00:05 [Lesara-TwistingNether]: What the fel was that?! 19:00:11 [Lesara-TwistingNether]: what was ANY of that?! 19:00:14 Awatu-TwistingNether channels a cleansing spell onto Xekanjo. 19:00:18 [Lupinum-TwistingNether]: I do not think that was Fel... 19:00:29 Lupinum-TwistingNether stares at the book again. 19:00:35 Lilliana-TwistingNether uses Masuabie for stabilization. He has an arm and a shoulder for a troll girl to hold on to, right? 19:00:41 [Baalthemar-TwistingNether]: It was nothing, a poor trick by a long dead magic user. 19:00:50 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: Magical defenses. 19:00:51 Nathandiel-TwistingNether holds his belly. 19:00:51 [Lesara-TwistingNether]: of course it wasn't! But... ugh! 19:00:54 Lesara-TwistingNether shivers a bit. 19:00:57 Mortica-TwistingNether returns to her feet slowly 19:01:06 Atticus-TwistingNether sneezes. 19:01:17 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: The hell? I ain't sneezed in ten years. 19:01:26 Nathandiel-TwistingNether glare at Syreen. "YOu're story had a bad ending!" 19:01:31 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Get away from that damn crate. Bring the tome! 19:01:31 Lilliana-TwistingNether makes a face at Atticus, "That's not funny." 19:01:41 Xekanjo-TwistingNether lies still, ceasing his seizure as he remainslimp on the ground, eyes dark pools of void. 19:01:48 Nokokomah kneels before Xekanjo. 19:01:58 Atticus-TwistingNether grins at Lilly. 19:02:00 Lupinum-TwistingNether gathers the vials and sets them in his belt, quite closed. 19:02:08 Masuabie-Ravenholdt grins and pulls Lilliana closer with one arm while sipping ale with the other hand. 19:02:09 Lilliana-TwistingNether backs away from the crate at Khorvis's orders....she glances at the fallen Xek as hse moves. 19:02:11 Syreena looks at Lupinum. 19:02:12 Lesara-TwistingNether grabs the book out of the air, giving it to Khorvis... after closing it of course. 19:02:14 Nokokomah-TwistingNether checks Xek'anjo over, then murmurs a call for a water elemental to flow healing energies into him. 19:02:24 Ruuki-TwistingNether looks between Syreena and Lilliana. "You both were present at Alcaz Island- can you please explain what just happened?" She is speaking politely, but it is strained with held back irritation. 19:02:28 Lilliana-TwistingNether expects that Masuabie was also following Khorvis's orders! 19:02:32 Lupinum-TwistingNether frowns and reaches for the book. 19:02:39 Masuabie-Ravenholdt wasn't. 19:02:43 Syreena blinks at Ruuki. 19:02:43 Xekanjo-TwistingNether seems unresponsive, even fighting against the healing. 19:02:49 [Xekanjo-TwistingNether]: "Gul'kafh an'shel. Yoq'al shn ky ywaq nuul." 19:03:03 Lilliana-TwistingNether shakes her head at Ruuki, "Um, like.....stuff...............?" That's not a good answer. 19:03:05 [Lupinum-TwistingNether]: Rogues... can you fight? 19:03:05 [Syreena-TwistingNether]: I don't know what this is. 19:03:38 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: The Alliance come for the phials and tome! 19:03:41 [Aderlee-Ravenholdt]: Peace troo Annihilation! 19:03:42 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: Not today... 19:03:53 Lupinum-TwistingNether looks around, trying to get eyes on the Elf. 19:04:00 Xekanjo lies down. 19:04:19 [Xekanjo-TwistingNether]: "Gul'kafh an'shel. Yoq'al shn ky ywaq nuul..."Gul'kafh an'shel. Yoq'al shn ky ywaq nuul...."Gul'kafh an'shel. Yoq'al shn ky ywaq nuul...." 19:04:22 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Grim! The legacy of Maledcitus draws them like flies. 19:04:25 Nokokomah looks at Xekanjo. 19:04:32 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: I need a warlock's help with this one. 19:04:39 Xekanjo-TwistingNether seems rambling in a daze, speaking a language not fit for mortal tongues. 19:04:43 Nokokomah-TwistingNether looks around. Fresh out of other warlocks. Oh. 19:04:46 [Canai-TwistingNether]: The Alliance left the area, for now. 19:04:47 Bishoph-Ravenholdt kneels down. 19:05:13 Lilliana-TwistingNether looks at Khorvis. She agrees. 19:05:13 Bishoph-Ravenholdt prays softly to himself. "Mandate we call upon your strength." 19:05:32 Lupinum-TwistingNether strides closer to Khorvis. 19:05:44 [Fremen-TwistingNether]: My apologies for the noisey healing well... it is only usful for when you have little options... I will hold my excitement back a tad next time. 19:05:48 Nokokomah-TwistingNether kneels back down beside the fallen troll. 19:05:54 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Bring Xekanjo to the cave. I do need a Forsaken to read aloud again the words of this tome. 19:06:02 Lupinum stares Khorvis down. 19:06:06 [Lupinum-TwistingNether]: Again? 19:06:10 [Lilliana-TwistingNether]: Guys, come on. 19:06:14 Nokokomah-TwistingNether checks his pulse, examins his pupils, rates his breathing, sits back a moment, then soundly slaps him across the face. 19:06:15 Aderlee-Ravenholdt wiggles his fingers at Xekanjo, making him as light as a pillow. 19:06:25 Aderlee-Ravenholdt | But not as fluffy as one. 19:06:37 [Awatu-TwistingNether]: Everyone inside. 19:06:39 Ruuki-TwistingNether snorts, then hefts Xek'anjo up over her shoulder to haul him into the cave. 19:06:41 Khorvis nods at Awatu. 19:06:45 [Lupinum-TwistingNether]: Move it, Grim. 19:06:49 Masuabie-Ravenholdt drags the keg of ale along with him. 19:07:09 Xekanjo lies down. 19:07:26 [Fremen-TwistingNether]: I don't suppose any of you have those flares available for our door? 19:07:41 Nokokomah frowns with disappointment at Xekanjo. 19:07:42 Khorvis-TwistingNether passes the journal to Mortica. 19:07:46 Aureliya-TwistingNether chanted quietly, weaving magic between her fingers. A ring of ice sealed the mouth of the cave. 19:07:49 Masuabie-Ravenholdt proudly displays the keg he dragged. "It be ok everyone, I brought the ale!" 19:07:53 Nokokomah-TwistingNether looks up, spotting Dunze. "You, warlock. Come here, please." 19:07:55 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Sister, read aloud again for us all, the will of Maledictus? 19:08:02 Baalthemar gently pats Nathandiel. 19:08:13 Dunze-Ravenholdt blinks and walks over to Nokokomah 19:08:17 Nokokomah-TwistingNether points at Xek'anjo. "He is speaking demonic. What is wrong with him?" 19:08:25 [Awatu-TwistingNether]: What sorcery was uncovered here? 19:08:46 [Mortica-TwistingNether]: That roach, Payson, was right. I must seek the blood of the void, a toxin black beyond death. 19:08:49 [Xekanjo-TwistingNether]: Ywaq puul skshgn: on'ma yeh'glu zuq...Ywaq puul skshgn: on'ma yeh'glu zuq... 19:09:01 Ruuki-TwistingNether glances at Awatu and moves slightly so that she is not blocking his view, or his way if he chose to step forward. 19:09:03 [Mortica-TwistingNether]: The Rat's flesh shall be fertile soil for the seed of Penumbra 19:09:07 Dunze-Ravenholdt walks over and pokes him "Ey, you dere, you ok?" 19:09:10 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Blood of the Void? Penumbra? 19:09:17 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Anybody else a little worried about old babbleface over there? 19:09:19 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: He is resisting healing. 19:09:22 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: That damned word again... 19:09:32 Lupinum blinks at Nokokomah. 19:09:38 Khorvis eyes Bishoph-Ravenholdt up and down. 19:09:41 Dunze-Ravenholdt kicks {rt8}Xekanjo "Speak demonic or troll or someting dat I can understand" 19:09:50 [Lupinum-TwistingNether]: The Light can burn it out, Shaman. 19:09:50 Mortica-TwistingNether glances at the book for a while, before closing it and handing it back to Khorvis 19:09:58 Nokokomah-TwistingNether nods at Lupinum and steps back. 19:10:06 Lupinum kneels before Xekanjo. 19:10:06 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: Khorvis. I am not sure if this is related.. 19:10:13 Lupinum-TwistingNether places his hands on Xek. 19:10:18 [Lupinum-TwistingNether]: This might hurt, old boy. 19:10:21 [Dunze-Ravenholdt]: I dont know what he be saying, it just gibberish ta me 19:10:36 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: I went to the achieve the tabard. 19:10:40 Dunze-Ravenholdt looks at blueberry "Did ja understand him?" 19:10:50 Khorvis-TwistingNether holds up a hand to Bishoph. "Hold that thought. Help your mentor, Lupinum." 19:11:11 [Lupinum-TwistingNether]: Join me in prayer, Bishoph... Xek is... 19:11:14 [Xekanjo-TwistingNether]: Shkul an'zig qvsakf KSSH'GA, ag'THYZAK agthu! 19:11:14 Khorvis-TwistingNether sets the tome aside into the care of the Keeper, Aureliya. 19:11:24 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Rub his feet Lupinum. 19:11:31 Lupinum-TwistingNether twitches as he begins to pray. 19:11:35 [Dunze-Ravenholdt]: I tink he said your mutter is fat 19:11:46 Aureliya-TwistingNether took the tome from Khorvis, and watched as Lupinum and Bishop tended to Xek'anjo. 19:11:55 Bishoph-Ravenholdt lays hands on Xek'anjo. 19:11:56 Fremen lets out a hearty chuckle. 19:11:58 Bishoph-Ravenholdt kneels down. 19:11:59 Xekanjo-TwistingNether 's maw opens, and several void tendrils shaped into serpents lash out from his maw to strike at Lilliana, coiling like hydra's heads. 19:12:03 Lupinum-TwistingNether | A glowing Light begins underneath Lupinum's hands. It burns brighter and harsher with each mantra. 19:12:17 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: Beware. 19:12:18 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Yikes. 19:12:20 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: Oh blessed Mandate. We call upon your supreme power at this very moment. 19:12:23 Dunze-Ravenholdt thinks for a second and then begins to summon a demon 19:12:31 Lilliana-TwistingNether screetches, "Hey! No....go away!! GUYS!" 19:12:43 Ruuki-TwistingNether scowls deeply. She has seen something similar in one of her former Supplicants, before he regained control of himself. 19:13:08 Lupinum-TwistingNether furrows his brow and concentrates. The parasite is fighting back against the Light, there's an internal war inside Xek's body. 19:13:14 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: Grant us serenity and strength in this dire moment...I call upon your utmost power at this very moment. 19:13:18 [Xekanjo-TwistingNether]: Ilith qi'uothk shn'ma yeh'glu Shath'Yar! H'IWN IILTH! 19:13:30 Dunze-Ravenholdt pokes the observer "What he be sayin?" 19:13:37 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Fight it, Xek'anjo. 19:13:55 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: I declare your Will, Oh Mandate, cleanse this Warlock, right now, Oh blessed one. 19:14:02 Nokokomah-TwistingNether mutters to the elements, and a shield of flcikering earth appears around Lupinum. 19:14:17 Atticus-TwistingNether notices a tendril in Lilly's hair and flicks it out. 19:14:19 Lupinum-TwistingNether | The Light flares at Bishoph's words, bathing the cave in Holy Light for a brief second. 19:14:25 Aureliya-TwistingNether frowned and kept a careful eye on the tome as it floated willfully. 19:14:34 Dunze-Ravenholdt the observer sighs "ITs an old GOd dialect, Shath'yar" 19:14:52 [Dunze-Ravenholdt]: what do da old gods want den? 19:15:01 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: As your Will promises us wisdom, I reach out right now and delcare that power mine, in the name of the Mandate. Mind, Body and Soul. I command this presence departo from Xek'anjo, as the Will of the Mandate commands!! 19:15:09 Xekanjo-TwistingNether 's maw bites down as the Light burns him, but the serpents seem intent on striking at Lilliana even as they burn in holy flame. 19:15:32 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: Lilliana, move away. 19:15:36 Lilliana-TwistingNether backs up into Khorvis. That was not deliberate. 19:15:36 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: COME OUT FOUL DEMON!! 19:15:49 Lupinum-TwistingNether pants heavily now, channeling the Light through his rotted corpse, searing and burning its way through to Xek'anjo. 19:16:06 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Yeah, do it! 19:16:20 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: Now I call upon the Dark Lady 19:16:25 Dunze-Ravenholdt pokes Khorvis. Hey! 19:16:26 Xekanjo-TwistingNether seizes and faints as the Light purges his system. 19:16:27 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: Grant me this wish. 19:16:28 [Dunze-Ravenholdt]: Hey boss man 19:16:33 [Dunze-Ravenholdt]: I know what he be sayin 19:16:50 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: bring forth your Banshees to pluck him from the Void, back to us!~ 19:17:07 Atticus-TwistingNether goes wide eyes. 19:17:22 Khorvis-TwistingNether grabs Bishoph by the collar and yanks both him and whatever foul shadows away from Xekanjo. 19:17:32 Xekanjo-TwistingNether remains motionless, but a sickening shade akin to a multi-headed serpent oozes from him, repeating the tongue of the faceless as it vanishes. 19:18:02 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Yikes! 19:18:07 [Dunze-Ravenholdt]: He be sayin "You will drown in da blood of...of....Aku'Mai? Be devoured" 19:18:09 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: Abomination! 19:18:17 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: A Loa? 19:18:38 [Awatu-TwistingNether]: Aku'Mai? Odd. 19:18:50 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: What is that? 19:18:51 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: What the bloody fel was in that vial? 19:18:58 [Lilliana-TwistingNether]: nasty shit 19:18:59 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: This power is beyond my singular control. It will require a much larger force. 19:19:00 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: What's Aku'Mai? 19:19:22 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: I saw ... a darkness. A far away menace. 19:19:25 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: A giant hydra. 19:19:42 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Hydra huh? Well let's find it. 19:19:51 Lupinum-TwistingNether | At the end of their prayer, Lupinum reeled from Xek's body as black vomit oozed from his mouth. He then faints on the cave floor. 19:19:58 Lupinum lies down. 19:20:02 Nokokomah kneels before Lupinum. 19:20:09 Lilliana eyes Lupinum up and down. 19:20:11 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Lupinum. 19:20:12 Xekanjo-TwistingNether 's eyes return to normal before they shut and Xek flops onto the floor. 19:20:21 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: I will tend to him. 19:20:23 [Dunze-Ravenholdt]: He dead? 19:20:43 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: This power has seemed to leak outward from Xek's body...Don't you feel that? 19:21:07 Songbelle shudders at the sight of Syreena. 19:21:13 Songbelle shudders. 19:21:21 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Feel what? 19:21:26 Nokokomah kneels before Xekanjo. 19:21:27 Dunze-Ravenholdt looks to squiddy his observer and nods, as they both can feel the power 19:21:35 [Dunze-Ravenholdt]: Whatever it be, it be bad 19:21:37 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: hard to describe... 19:21:54 Khorvis-TwistingNether asks Lilliana to make Lupinum and Xekanjo comfortable. 19:21:59 Lilliana-TwistingNether 's blue eyes go from Xek to Lupinum. She looks troubled of course, why wouldn't she be? 19:22:26 Lilliana-TwistingNether narrows her eyes at Khorvis. She's a priest, but not THAT type of a priest. She moves over to the prone troll and undead, beside Nokokomah. 19:22:54 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Okay. So. What. We needs te get more priests and shamans and such? 19:23:05 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: This troubles me greatly...we need much more than simple prayer.. 19:23:07 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: You did speak of a name, familiar to your eyes, Bishoph Steele? 19:23:46 Nokokomah-TwistingNether is setting resotrative magics over both Lupinum and Xek'anjo so they can recover in time. 19:23:46 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: Prenumbra? Prenumba? Something like that...I have seen that word before. 19:24:15 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: The penumbra is an effect of the moon. 19:24:17 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: What's it mean? 19:24:17 Nokokomah-TwistingNether speaks up. 19:24:20 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Where? 19:24:21 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Oh. 19:24:24 Lilliana-TwistingNether watches what Nakokomah is doing. She spits out a nasty little curse word under her breath, and she changes the direction of her shadow magics. 19:24:48 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: What effect? Yeah, where? 19:25:04 Nokokomah-TwistingNether rises and turns. 19:25:25 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: I fear Xek's condition may be related to what I found at the grave where I was instructed to retrieve an old tabard..from a corpse. 19:25:34 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: What the bloody fel was in the tomb of Maledictus?! 19:25:36 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: It is the part of a shadow from which an eclipse is partial. 19:25:46 Lilliana-TwistingNether gives it some time for her magic, the stupid holy magic to restore, and she does the same as Nokokomah, although not with as skilled a hand. She glances to the others talking. 19:25:53 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: There.. 19:25:59 Lilliana looks at Bishoph-Ravenholdt. 19:26:00 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: was no body.. 19:26:09 Nokokomah blinks at Bishoph-Ravenholdt. 19:26:16 [Lesara-TwistingNether]: ...what? 19:26:17 Khorvis gasps at Bishoph-Ravenholdt. 19:26:20 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Huh. 19:26:24 [Dunze-Ravenholdt]: Did ja eat it? 19:26:25 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: Whose grave was it? 19:26:28 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: I found a bag however. 19:26:45 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: What were in it? 19:26:59 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: Inside was 3 artifacts, the tabard, which I'm wearing now..and this. 19:27:10 Bishoph-Ravenholdt hands Khorvis a journal. 19:27:18 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: A book. 19:27:21 Nokokomah looks at Khorvis. 19:27:33 [Lesara-TwistingNether]: ANOTHER book... 19:27:33 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: The missing half... 19:27:47 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: Half...? 19:27:56 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: Whatever is written in there was of sheer madness, but I remember seeing Prenumbra throughout it. 19:28:01 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Well let's have a looksee. 19:28:48 Khorvis-TwistingNether thorws the ratty pages at Atticus, written in Gutterspeak. 19:29:03 Nokokomah looks at Atticus. 19:29:16 Atticus-TwistingNether opens the pages and mumbles the words quietly to himself. 19:29:18 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Why can your kind not write in Orcish?! 19:29:34 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Why can't ye read at all? 19:29:50 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Maybe if it were in pictures ye could get it. 19:29:57 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Alright, here be what it says. 19:30:09 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: "All Light breeds the shadow..." 19:30:10 Lilliana-TwistingNether grins despite all of this, at ATticus's words to Khorvis. 19:30:27 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: "The Void surrounds the wheezing candles of those pink-fleshed apes... 19:30:53 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: "Huddling against their fears. and in their most spire'd temple of candles... 19:31:06 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: "They clucth their deepest fear. Penumbra." 19:31:27 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: That be the gist of it anyway. 19:31:40 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: Temple of candles? 19:31:43 Atticus-TwistingNether pops his jaw. 19:32:12 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Our Founder must have seen the way to a new weapon. 19:32:12 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Aye it says temple of candles. 19:32:29 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: A weapon, hidden in this place? We must retrieve it. 19:32:32 Dunze-Ravenholdt squiddy chuckles 19:32:45 [Awatu-TwistingNether]: With caution. 19:33:12 [Awatu-TwistingNether]: We have seen that this power is... unruly. 19:33:40 [Awatu-TwistingNether]: And we have seen what happens with unruly powers. 19:33:48 Nokokomah nods at Awatu. 19:33:56 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Aye, Commander. How should we procede? 19:34:00 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Well I mean when it comes at ye when you don't expect it, sure. 19:34:03 [Ruuki-TwistingNether]: If something marked with the sigil of the Mandate can have this sort of effect on our own... *she gestures to Xek'anjo and Lupinum* Then we need to delve into the archives and find whatever bit of information we can, before we risk further harm. 19:34:26 Lilliana-TwistingNether rests her hand on Lupinum's boney ankle, and looks at Awatu. 19:34:40 [Nokokomah-TwistingNether]: What temple does it refer to? Candles, and spires? It sounds like a monastery. 19:34:46 Awatu-TwistingNether nods at Ruuki. "Research. Find out what the 'temple of candles' may be. And who this 'Payson' is. Or was." 19:34:52 [Mortica-TwistingNether]: stormwind's cathedral? 19:35:16 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: That cathedral ain't made of candles. It's rocks. 19:35:30 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: I do wonder moreso over the fate of our Founder. His tomb do be EMPTY! 19:35:40 [Awatu-TwistingNether]: Maintain rejuvination on the fallen. Bring Lupinum and Xekanjo back to us. Perhaps they have seen things. 19:35:41 Nokokomah nods at Khorvis. 19:35:48 Nokokomah nods at Awatu. 19:35:50 [Awatu-TwistingNether]: Another mystery. 19:36:03 [Awatu-TwistingNether]: A troubling one. 19:36:18 [Aureliya-TwistingNether]: I will delve into the archives tomorrow and see what I can find. 19:36:21 [Awatu-TwistingNether]: I will need to look into... what is left behind. What former leaders may have known. 19:36:25 Awatu-TwistingNether glances at Syreena. 19:36:33 [Dunze-Ravenholdt]: I can look for da demons! 19:36:36 Syreena looks at Awatu. 19:36:50 Dunze-Ravenholdt entusiastically raises his hand "Oh oh oh, and for killin dem humans!" 19:36:53 Lilliana-TwistingNether looks at Khorvis, "Yeah, that's totally creepy that his body wasn't in there." 19:36:54 [Ruuki-TwistingNether]: Perhaps the Twice-Made may know something? 19:37:00 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Start with candle makers. See who be their biggest customer. 19:37:08 [Awatu-TwistingNether]: He will be my first stop. 19:37:37 Ruuki-TwistingNether nods at Awatu. "I would not be surprised if former Grim leaders left something in secrecy for their successors." 19:37:46 [Awatu-TwistingNether]: For now, we keep the contents of that crate and the items Bishoph found under constant watch and heavy security. 19:37:53 Canai-TwistingNether sneaks out of the cave. 19:37:54 Khorvis nods at Awatu. 19:37:59 Lilliana-TwistingNether grins at Awatu, "and Awatu gets the nasty ass vials of crap." 19:38:02 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Yeah, Khorvis. 19:38:04 Nokokomah-TwistingNether returns to restoring Xek'anjo and Lupinum. 19:38:07 [Awatu-TwistingNether]: Minus the tabard. Unless it is relevant. 19:38:10 [Aureliya-TwistingNether]: Khorvis, what would you have me do with this book? *She gestured at the floating tome.* 19:38:23 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Lock and key, Keeper. 19:38:30 Aureliya-TwistingNether nodded. 19:38:49 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: This gathering of the Inquisition do be sealed to the Mandate. 19:38:49 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: What of the artifacts? I touched them barehanded, yet felt nothing sinister. 19:39:06 Khorvis-TwistingNether turns to Bishoph. 19:39:06 Syreena-TwistingNether tilts her head, eyeing the box of vials. 19:39:10 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: Guard your dreams. 19:39:13 [Atticus-TwistingNether]: Ye best give em te me. 19:39:17 [Khorvis-TwistingNether]: The fel knows what do be coming. 19:39:19 Lilliana-TwistingNether gives Khorvis a goofy look, "Does it......?" Then she turns back to Lupinum and Xek. 19:39:34 [Bishoph-Ravenholdt]: lovely, more nightmares.. 19:39:50 [Fremen-TwistingNether]: To fel with that! 19:39:55 Atticus thanks you. 19:39:59 Baalthemar grins wickedly. 19:40:20 Nokokomah-TwistingNether calls her earth elemental to pick up both the fallen and carry them back through the portal to the Grim garrison. 19:40:41 [Awatu-TwistingNether]: Hunt well, Grim.
  6. The King of Rats Maledictus - December 27, 2005 The undead necromancer known as Maledictus detested Brackenwall Village. The Ogres who ran it were a disgrace to the Horde: guards guzzled ditch liquor from rusty mugs and staggered drunkenly along their patrol routes, burping and farting as they went. They defecated wherever the mood struck, and took no measures to impress the superior races among their Horde allies. As he arrived, Maledictus muttered to himself, "Brackensqualor, you'll never change. This dung heap will one day be the sad tombstone of the Ogre race, when Sylvanas commands their destruction..." Many Grims had gathered around the greasy fire in the center of the village. The dead priest had been carrying two wooden boxes and as he approached, two Grims -Frain and Thalevia- each took a box to ease his burden. Maledictus nodded his grudging thanks, then shuffled painfully to the front of the Grim assembly. "Sister Frain, sister Thalevia, take care not to tamper with those boxes, or let any harm come to them. We Forsaken may be resistant to the contents, but the un-deceased among us would be at great risk," the dead priest sharply instructed. Maledictus rapped his mace loudly on the ground once, then began to speak, "Good evening Grims. This may seem an unlikely place to discuss the Royal Apothecary Society, but I assure you, there is a reason. "As most of you know, the RAS conducts ongoing research involving plague formation, which will be used against the Alliance in due time. "These noble chemists -many of whom are Grims- are an integral part of the war against the hated Alliance, but there are naysayers even among the Horde. Some ignorant detractors claim the RAS inflicts needless suffering on the realm. "I would remind them that although the RAS' methods are unconventional, the same could be said of The Grim. Are we not the most loyal of any Horde Order? None would dare question The Grim's loyalty to the Horde! So too does the RAS continue their research, paying no heed to fools who speak against plague research. "We at the RAS have had much success so far, thanks to a steady supply of volunteer Alliance 'lab rats'. The carcass vats in Undercity are filled to the brim daily with the by-products of our super science! Our phase 3 plague virus trials require the use of live test subjects, which many of you have witnessed in our facilities. "We strive to strike a balance between lethality and transmission efficiency. If a plague strain is too lethal, it kills the host before the virus can spread to others, which limits its global effectiveness. The plague must keep the host alive long enough to be shared among plentiful Alliance hosts, to quickly spread our beautiful toxins among as many of the hated enemy as possible. "Our goal is to create a stable virus which infects the host slowly but lethally, is readily spread to nearby hosts, is very difficult to cure, and affects only Alliance races. This may be impossible, but the goal remains. "The unfortunate news is that with our current stock of fragile "lab rats" we may have reached the limits of our plague research. Thus, we are compelled to seek out test subjects with hardier constitutions which may stand up to our newer, more aggressive viruses. "Across the bay east of Dustwallow Marsh, an island rises from the mist. Ships give it a wide berth, and few that venture there return to tell of it. Alcaz Island. Colossal sea serpents known as Hydra roam the black water surrounding Alcaz, and have been known to swallow unsuspecting travelers in a single bite. "Worse, a legion of fierce Naga have taken over the island itself, and they will butcher any trespassers. "Rumors have circulated that these Naga are guarding a secret of great importance to the Alliance. It is speculated among the RAS that this terrible island may hold a key toward a quantum leap forward in plague research. "Thats where The Grim comes in. Inside these wooden boxes are several jars of plague samples. We will transport them to the island, find a new source of "lab rats", and expose them to the plague samples. "It is hoped that whatever species we discover will prove hardier than the pathetic Alliance vermin with which we've had limited success. If all goes well, Alcaz Island may become the breeding ground for a new strain of plague, the likes of which the Alliance races cannot cure. "We Grims have never turned down a fight -no matter the odds- and today will be no different. If we remain united, we will survive this treacherous mission. Those who stray from the group will no doubt meet a quick demise." Amidst cheers and warcries of the expedition force, The Grim marched east from Brackenwall, across the fetid swamp, eventually reaching the beach. From there they could see the outline of a dark island in the distance. At Maledictus' command, the group swam and waterwalked eastward, drawing ever closer to Alcaz Island. A few dark and looming shapes greeted the raid party, and as the Hydra snapped at a potential meal, they were quickly slashed to a bloody mess by Grims. Soon all had reached the shore of Alcaz Island, most were gasping for breath but otherwise healthy. "What's that hissing noise coming from the jungle?" asked a young hunter, scanning the trees with unabashed dread. At that moment, fierce elite Naga warriors and mystics sprang from the foliage and attacked the recovering Grim. With the crew at nearly full strength they reassembled battle formation and, after a long and bloody standoff, killed the naga defenders. Maledictus glanced back at the docks and noticed the bloodshed had drawn the attention of more Hydras. "Head up the path, Grims! Get away from the water!" he ordered. Up the worn path from the docks, the raid group spied several crude huts nestled among the island's mountainous landscape. As they made their way toward the buildings, many Naga assaulted the party, and each were killed in turn. At an intersection of two jungle paths, Laughingcrow sniffed the wind and -pointing eastward through the jungle- yelled, "I smell a human. This way!" The Grim approached a cluster of huts that surrounded several grated prison-pits embedded in the soil. More Naga fought against the party's encroachment, but after much bloodshed, the reptiles lay dismembered and dead on the sandy ground. The rogue Licidion spied an opening in the ground amid the huts, and the raid party quickly gathered around it. Some of the tauren snorted at the ghastly smell rising from the hole, but one by one, the group moved to the slick steps, and down into the humid gloom. The stone passageway beneath the jungle floor resembled a crude sewer, with fattened rodents scattering at every footstep. The crew huddled in the narrow passage, and slowly moved forward, until the floor gave way to a water filled passageway below. "This way, we've found someone!" Grims ahead of the main group shouted, "Below the water is a tunnel!" Eventually the entire party had traversed the underwater passage and stood, dripping and heaving from exertion. There, in the dark and moist hell of vermin and feces, mixed with the bones and decay of his former fellow captives, stood the King of Stormwind -Varian Wrynn- with a rusted crown perched comically upon his dishevelled head, still wrapped in his filthy regal robe. He stood tall and silent as the Horde gathered around him. A few of The Grim stared in surprise, but no one doubted that this gaunt figure was indeed King Varian Wrynn, not a mad imposter. The assembled heroes of the Horde glowered menacingly at King Wrynn, like wolves surrounding a lamb. "Stay your hands, Grims. Lets do this properly," Maledictus said, barely concealing his sinister glee. "As legend goes, the King of Stormwind was being escorted through Dustwallow Marsh for a diplomatic summit with Jaina Proudmoore in Theramore Keep. He was kidnapped along the way, and disappeared. "Some say the Defias Brotherhood was involved. Varian's son Anduin acts as king now, in his stronghold at Stormwind, but this pathetic wretch is the true King! "King Wrynn, you stand accused of crimes against the Horde, too numerous to mention. We assembled races of the Horde wish to give you a fair trial. If you have a statement in your defense, please speak up." Wrynn stood silently, staring at a brick in the wall of his underground cell. Maledictus listened with mock sincerity for a moment, then shouted the verdict into the King's face, "Thunder Bluff to the West finds you guilty! Orgrimmar to the North finds you guilty! Lordaeron to the East finds you...GUILTY! And I believe the unanimous decision is...death." The Grim shouted in unison, "Death to the King of Rats!" With that, the Horde forces set upon the defenseless King Wrynn. Afterward, a few of the hungry Forsaken kneeled at the King's mutilated corpse, greedily ripping large gobbets of flesh from it. As the undead finished their quick snack, a strange thing happened. The blood from the walls and floor began to shimmer and move, slowly reuniting on the spot where King Wrynn had stood moments before. His bones rose and knitted together, and new flesh spread over his skeleton. The shattered skull reformed, as if an explosion in reverse. The dead priest Maledictus watched in amazement, and then began to convulse with unaccustomed nausea. At once, he began to vomit up chunks of meat and blood, as the King's body claimed its missing portions. "What deviltry is this! The King is alive again," Maledictus spat out the words as a curse. And then, with a spark of diabolical inspiration, he let out a low gutteral chuckle. "This prison is diabolical indeed, Grims. Not even death itself can free the King. Someone wants this human to remain alive. Such a cruel enchantment that he must endure an unknown sentence, with no possibility of escape. I believe we have found our plague research subject. The King of the Lab Rats! We shall infect him with our viruses, and see how he fares." The Grim attacked the King again, hacking the limbs from his body with gusto. Soon Vrynn lay "dead" again, his innards scattered around the cell. "Thalevia and Frain, bring forth the plague jars from the boxes," Maledictus instructed. They carefully removed the small jars from their padded box and handed them to the dead priest. He opened a jar and began to sprinkle the black plague powder into the wounds of King Wrynn, then watched as the powder sank into the flesh, bubbling slightly. Sure enough, the mangled corpse of King Wrynn began to reconstruct itself again, and soon he stood whole again, gazing dispassionately at the murderous assembly. Maledictus spoke with derision, "How are you feeling, Wrynn? Anything...unusual?" Wrynn did not answer, or even flinch. His ensorcelled prison stasis permitted no emotional reaction to the horrific fate that had befallen him. Turning from Wrynn, Maledictus muttered, "Bah, we must give the plague virus time to incubate and fester. Six days should be sufficient time. We will return here next Sunday to examine our unkillable patient, collecting plague samples if he survives...and defiling his corpse if he succumbs. And if the Alliance sees fit to...relocate... our patient before we return, we must be prepared to track him down wherever he is held." With a mocking bow, the necromancer bid farewell to the reassembling King. "You are now our Royal Plague Incubator, King Wrynn. And your father thought you'd never amount to anything!" The next day: Maledictus' day began as any other; a review of the Royal Apothecary Society's research data, a devotional poetry reading to the aloof Sylvanas, then a report of the day's news from his closest friend and confidant, Jeremiah Payson -the cockroach vendor. Payson sat under the archway beneath the bank of Undercity, while his pets scurried nearby. Maledictus spoke first, while running a finger absently over the indention above his stomach where his spleen had been removed, "You've heard by now of course, that we have located a new lab rat for the RAS' plague research..." Jeremiah nodded, his neck creaking loudly. "Oh ayeah, some prisoner on an island. Can't be killed, they say. Sounds like me, in my younger days," he boasted unconvincingly. With a hoarse chuckle he added, "Volunteered like them other Alliance downstairs, did he?" "Yes, Payson. He was most accommodating. This new lab rat is unique in all the realm, because he cannot leave the confines of his watery prison, nor can he be slain by normal means. Believe me, we tried many methods!" Maledictus replied. "You may have heard of him, despite your limited contact with the outside world. That pathetic prisoner is King Varian Wrynn himself. Sound familiar?" the dead priest teased. Payson stared thoughtfully for a time and rubbed his chin. If onlookers didn't know better, the cockroach vendor would have appeared somewhat wise. "Yeah, he's the King. I know all about that. What's he doing in prison then?" Maledictus shrugged, "That king has become a pawn, to be used for our research purposes. His crime against the Alliance is irrelevant to me, because they are all deserving of death at our hands. Crimes among the Alliance are meaningless to a Forsaken. We will return on the Sabbath to check on him, gather plague samples from his blood, and torment him for sport. I wonder if his cries of agony will reach Theramore Keep this time...none heeded his call last night." At this, Payson perked up a bit. "You're thinking the Alliance might try to interfere with the work of the Royal Apothecary Society? They surely know what you're up to now, and if I was them I'd be rightly pissed about it. You better bring some armor and a sword. I have an old sword around here somewhere." The dead priest shook his head, "Bah, we are armored with righteousness, and our sword is the truth. Also, we have an army ready to defend this noble expedition. It is my fondest wish that the Alliance WILL try to interfere. Let them battle us all the way from Brackenwall to Alcaz Island, we'll grind them into the dust. Most likely however, only a few Alliance will nip at our heels. That is the way of the meat animals; rarely organized for a large battle. If they show some semblance of a spine and prepare for us, I will grant them a bit of respect." Jeremiah Payson looked interested. "What time is this expedition again?" Maledictus rose to his clawed feet and turned to walk away. "We depart from Brackenwall Village in Dustwallow Marsh this Sunday at 9:00 pm. I hope to see many Horde and Alliance that night, and we will make Dustwalllow Marsh and Alcaz Island a bloody battlefield of epic proportions."
  7. "...That roach, Payson, was right. I must seek the blood of the void, a toxin black beyond death. The Rat's flesh shall be fertile soil for the seed of Penumbra." In the journal, you would read the expected ramblings of an undead priest fel-bent upon destroying the races of the living, as well as passages berating his own failings in the search for a suitable plague. It will contain constant mentionings of something called "Penumbra". It is unclear if this is a person, a place, or an object, but always it is held in awe, as something or someone that holds the key to Annihilation. Example: 'The Rat reformed again... blast! The strain was too weak to melt forever his accursed flesh. Only under the Penumbra's shadow will he return to the Void...' The final entry is as follows: 'All Light breeds the Shadow. The Void surrounds the wheezing candles of those pink-fleshed apes, huddling against their fears. And in their most spire'd temple of candles, they clutch their deepest fear. Penumbra.' -----
  8. [[ Cross-post from The Gallow's End Tavern. Authored by Bishoph. ]] Bishoph rides towards the town of Brill on his Shadow Raven. He has been flying for an eternity it seems. Nodding in and out of consciousness he is awakened from the cowls of his bird. The wind whips through his frail body. The air grows colder..there is always a unnerving chill in the Tirisfal Glades. The cypress trees of the region welcome him home. The cursed sky of the Forsaken, always weaving its green hue around the forest. The clouds swirling in a ravaging chaos...the rain falling violently across the land. Each drop of rain stings Bishoph's skin as if it were on fire. This does not phase him however, he must follow the Mandate's command. The Mandate's Will has spoken through the High inquisitor, and now Bishoph rides to Brill to claim what is now rightfully his. The Tabard of Maledictus. Luckily before departing for Brill, he took some time to research the one who the old grim called Maledictus, not much is really spoke of in lore other than the fact that his presence was indifferent to those that remember. Bishoph did acquire information through his findings that he was a Necromancer who's magical capabilities were very similar to that of Bishoph, as well as this Maledictus being Forsaken... He gains closer to the town of Brill, as if it were frozen in time. The buildings still a ways off, he hears the all to familiar toll of the Brill bells. The rain stops as he approaches, eerily pouring everywhere else outside the walls. The fog weighs heavily around the buildings, barely seeing the tops of the roofs. His bird glides down towards the stable as the fog lofts around them, consuming all visual space. At a moment's notice, the ground appears as the bird touches down. "Tis' a dreadful day, welcome to Brill." the stable keeper states as he takes the reigns from Bishoph's hands and holds it steady as he dismounts. "Dreadful indeed." Bishoph says, flipping the stable keeper a gold coin. Bishoph walks slowly away from the stable and stretches his tired aching joints, each one cracking and popping. He breathes out a sigh of relief then looks around the town. The normal hustle and bustle seems to be about in the cobblestone streets of the small town. He walks towards the graveyard. The gates to the cemetery creaking back and forth as the unsettling wind blows through the town. He pushes through the gate and begins to gaze to the ground at the head stones. "Maledictus, Maledictus..." he says softly to himself as he read the inscription on each headstone. As he walks through the graveyard, the grass comes alive with cockroaches and spiders. He feels them crawling up his feet and legs as he walks. Determined to the point to find this damned grave, he pays the insects no mind. He searches the entire graveyard to no avail. He walks to the sepulcher and sits down on the bench outside the crypt, seemingly angry. Rightfully so! "Where is this Maledictus at?" He speaks out loud to himself. "Check behind the sepulcher, there is an unmarked grave that I refuse to touch.." says the grounds keeper. "Oh? Why do you say this?" Bishoph says blankly with no expression on his face. "Dark magic, different from our Dark Lady." the grounds keeper says. "The grave itself?" Bishoph replies. "No, the grave is nothing but dirt and maggots...the man inside is not, however. I seen him dig his own grave. Summon some spectral horrors that lulled him to sleep within the ground and covered him up" the grounds keeper implies. "I will be mindful of that, now be on your way and tend to your duties if you know what is best for you." Bishoph retorts. "Dark Lady watch over you, Forsaken." the grounds keeper says then turns, walks away rather quickly. Once out of sight, Bishoph stands from the bench and searches the area. Noone seems to be in the area, although it still feels as if someone is watching his every move. "Mandate grant me strength." He walks around the crypt to where a patch of dirt, that seems to be unsettled, fresh even. He reaches for a shovel at arms length that is leaning on the sepulcher wall. He strikes the dirt with brute force piercing the ground. The ground gives way to each swing. He digs down about 4 feet under until he hits something hard. "Ahhh." he relieves. He finished digging around the coffin to allow the lid to open freely. It seems decrepit and frail, surprised as to see it still intact and not crushed from the weight of the mound of dirt once on top of it. Bishoph climbs out of the hole and lays down on the ground. The rain begins to pour from the sky. "I have to hurry before I sink in with this damned fool" he thinks to himself. He pries the seal of the coffin with little force with the tip of the shovel. A dank cloud of dust billows out of the coffin into his face, making him choke. Not knowing what to expect upon opening the lid, he braces himself for the stench of a decayed corpse. He slowly lifts up the lid and stares into the coffin in amazement. "There is no corpse!" Bishoph speaks in amazement. The only thing in the coffin is an old knapsack. He pulls the knapsack and tosses it on top of the ground beside him. He closes the lid and stands up slowly covered in mud, completely drenched from the pouring rain. He takes the shovel and covers up the grave. Once complete he drops the shovel to the ground in exhaustion, leans over to strap the knapsack to his shoulder. He walks over to the sepulcher and sits down in front of the crypt doors, out of the rain. He rakes the mud off the knapsack with his robe. Unties the rope from it and folds the cover back. He looks inside and spots a tabard with the recognizable emblem of the Grim, albeit slightly different than what he recognizes the ones he sees the others wear today. Surprisingly the tabard is untarnished or undamaged. He stretches it out to view it. He was pleased at what he saw. The Mandate was pleased. He stands up and pulls it over his robes. "Finally, all of my hard work has paid off.." He sits back down, now in high spirits despite being in soaked clothes and freezing. Bishoph looks again through the bag and notices a few items inside. He pulls out a few strange artifacts, three to be exact. Each looked to forged of Ebony Steel. The detail is amazing and easily distinguished that these 3 items are made from the same forger. The first one is a spider like a trophy or some kind of idol. The second looks like a crest or emblem in the shape of a shield, with a portrait of a human family being burned alive. The fire on the crest is a bright red, and the only color on the entire crest. Lastly, the 3rd artifact is a hilt to a blade, once having a blade but broken off somehow as it is sliced clean at the hilt. On the hilt it has a dark red skull on the cross guard. The grip wrapped tight in hardened bound leather. The pommel of the blade worn and scraped with deep scratches through the base. He looks at each piece carefully and then sets them aside. Bishoph then searches throughout the rest of the pack to find a tightly bound ledger stuck to the bottom of the sack. He pulls sightly to attempt to free it from the knapsack, freeing it after a tug. Taking it out of the bag he looks at it carefully. "It looks as if the cover is made" The cover heavily worn, blackened and hard. The binding made up of Netherweave twine. He opens the book and flips through the pages briefly scanning as he recognizes the words are written in Gutterspeak. He goes back to the first page and reads the book page by page. The words don't hardly make any sense to him whatsoever. "This man is mad!" He says softly to himself. Puzzled by his findings, he closes the ledger and puts it back inside the knapsack along with the artifacts. He gets up slowly and walks back towards the stables. The rain has driven most of the patrons indoors, which is a good thing since Bishoph is clearly filthy. He hobbles over to the stables, where the stable keeper has nodded off to sleep. He sneaks by him silently to remain undetected, unlatches the reigns of his Shadow Raven, climbs on the saddle and instructs the bird to slowly walk. Through the edge of the stable, and down the road of Brill, Bishoph collapses on the bird in exhaustion from this whole ordeal. Once outside the gate and out of view of any onlookers, the bird takes flight North, soaring high into the sky. "Khorvis should be made aware of this." Bishoph says as he barely hangs on to the reigns and then falls unconscious. The Shadow Raven circles around Brill and then flies south once again.
  9. THE FOLLOWING CONTAINS SPOILERS TO THE PLOT Monday night (6/27/16) launches a Grim guild storyline called Penumbra. It's a tale I've been dwelling on for about a month now, trying to flesh out the particulars while leaving a lot of breathing room for the creativity of others. Here is the general sketch. A lot of it is just me riffing and writing down ideas. Goals: 1. Resolve the unexplained disappearance of the Grim's first guild master, Maledictus, in terms more exciting than "possibly deceased". 2. Provide an interesting story that touches on classic Grim themes (annihilation, plague, undeath, shadow) without beating dead horses. There have been a lot of possession / demon -based stories this past year, so I'd like to try something fresh. 3. Set up the Grim's internal story for the Legion prepatch and expansion. In the past, the Grim has entered new content without much story planning. We handled the introduction of Death Knights and Monks with very little fanfare, just a "Hello. Now fight." Penumbra should create a healthy welcome to Demon Hunters. The story is divided into roughly three short Acts, each lasting one week and taking up Monday night Inquisitions. After the conclusion on July 18th, the next morning Legion Prepatch will launch. Week One: Mystery and detective work. What is Penumbra? "Prior to the untimely passing of The Grim's founding Father, Maledictus the Necromancer launched an expedition to Alcaz Island, a short distance off the coast of Dustwallow Marsh. There the adherents of the Royal Apothecary Society experimented thoroughly with the effects of new Plague strains upon the body of Varian Wrynn - the King of Rats. Though the research was interrupted by a massive battle between Horde heroes and Alliance royalists, previously undisclosed results of the experiement were unearthed by Grim commemorators." Syreena will retell the story of the King of Rats at Monday's Inquisition. After the telling an unexpected discovery will launch the drama. Khorvis will trip over an old crate, buried in the mud. Some associated emotes: /em stumbles in the muck and barks in pain. "Bloody fel, my toe!" He glances down and points at an unearthed crate while fuming. "What in the Nether do that be?" After prying open the mud-caked seals, the aged crate shows its contents to the light of day after a decade of neglect. Resting within is a rack of five stoppered phials, each swirling with a different virulence. The last tube, pulsing with black portent, seems to suck in the light of its surroundings, though that may be a trick of torches. Beneath the phials rots a deteriorating tome bearing the sigil of the Mandate upon its black leather binding. Upon opening the tome: The tome, at the first touch of a sentient Grim, snaps open with a raging fan of pages and floats of its own accord some few feet above the floor. A sickly pallor settles over the congregation and the pages rest at the last entry, penned in a scrawling Gutterspeak. "...That roach, Payson, was right. I must seek the blood of the void, a toxin black beyond death. The Rat's flesh shall be fertile soil for the seed of Penumbra." The log ends abruptly. Further reading into previous pages only yields the highly detailed results of the various plague strains tested upon the flesh of Wrynn. Upon unstoppering the black phial: Black tendrils snake their way out of the Necromancer's final concoction. Their inky malevolence creeps with frightening speed towards the living before evaporating into a dusky mist that temporarily blinds the sight. Stretched between the moments of breath and consciousness, any afflicted are assaulted by a vision of shadow. The vast spaces between fading stars and dimming nebulae overwhelm you with a crushing sense of loss. And hanging in the abyssal gulf drifts a singularity of existential dread. As quickly as the impression encroached, it scatters into your periphery. These are obvious teasers meant to hook the players into the story. What is Penumbra? The final hook comes from Bishoph, who was recently assigned to dig up Maledictus's grave and retrieve the Necromancer's tabard. He discovers that the grave is empty, save for the tabard and a journal. A snippet from a PM of mine: "In the journal, you would read the expected ramblings of an undead priest fel-bent upon destroying the races of the living, as well as passages berating his own failings in the search for a suitable plague. It will contain constant mentionings of something called "Penumbra". It is unclear if this is a person, a place, or an object, but always it is held in awe, as something or someone that holds the key to Annihilation. Example: 'The Rat reformed again... blast! The strain was too weak to melt forever his accursed flesh. Only under the Penumbra's shadow will he return to the Void...' The final entry is as follows: 'All Light breeds the Shadow. The Void surrounds the wheezing candles of those pink-fleshed apes, huddling against their fears. And in their most spire'd temple of candles, they clutch their deepest fear. Penumbra.'" ----- So, the goal of this all is to get the players on the trail of Maledictus, in search of Penumbra. They currently have two leads: 1. Payson. This is a reference to Jeremiah Payson, the roach vendor in Undercity. Described as Maledictus's "closest friend and confidant." the vendor may have information regarding the Necromancer's whereabouts. I have not written out any dialogue concerning this NPC, but obviously any interaction would need to take place in forums rather than in-game. Payson would mention that he knew Maledictus was spending a lot of time in the Scarlet Monastery Library, researching the Shadow-only-knows. 2. "Most-spired temple of candles": This is a purposeful misdirection. When connected with Payson, it would seem to point to the Scarlet Monastery. In fact, Maledictus was referring to the Cathedral of Light in Stormwind. Player research into the Scarlet Library would yield clues that lead to the Cathedral of Light. I have yet to write out the clues. The Cathedral holds the final answer, and would require players to gain access to the location in-game (ie, sneak into Stormwind and raid the church). The dramatic reveal is that Penumbra is a place, floating in the Twisting Nether. Writings of human priests will speak of hauntings by Shadow made flesh, centuries ago. The Cathedral houses an artifact - a piece of Penumbra.

About us

The Twisting Nether Gazette is a role play forum for characters on the RP-PVP servers Twisting Nether and Ravenholdt.  We have been active since November of 2005, a few months after the Twisting Nether server originally went live.  Our purpose is to provide a safe and inclusive environment where role players can meet and interact with each other, and, of course, post their amazing role play stories, art, bios, and journals.

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