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Quest; The Garden of Deception
Going against -The Return of Asmodeus-

The roof of my Mansion is blooming with thousand of flowers, with beauty, and lies… especially lies. Most of my days and nights, now, I spend them up here, with the blossoming vegetation. Such beauty and delicateness, yet most of those plants find themselves to hold the most poisonous substances ever existing. Some able to paralyze almost instantly a full grown human body, others slowly sending another into the arms of eternal sleep. Somehow, I’ve found myself to feel particularly at my place amongst those dangerous plants. Despite that hidden strength, they were all so fragile, so exceedingly weak, just like I.

The truth is, I was avoiding the Family Hall and its members after Asmodeus had told me about a plan that was preparing against me. For some days, I had doubted his words, thinking he simply wanted to keep me away from them so I could be an easy target. Alas, with thoughts and paranoia, I have grown to believe he could be right… Why would he lie, after all? I was scared. I had surrounded myself with so many beings that I almost lost count of them. Some were not to be trusted, others could be -potentially- deadly, and another that could clearly destroy me without even trying. Should I cover myself with a fabric of lies? Should I ask help and show a true vulnerability? I have not come this far to fall, certainly not!
——————————————————————————————

Asmodeus had, once again, infiltrated my dreams. I would see his dark shadow, sometimes, or have this disgusting feeling of being spied on while sleeping. This moment when you don’t even dare opening your eyes, scared of seeing the face, right above you, of a monster of some sort. I would refuse to see his, those sharp and glowing red eyes, socketed into a humanoid shape made entirely of shadows. His voice would fill my mind, like poison, and I wouldn’t even be able to silence it… Nights after nights, his whispers were slowly driving me mad.

– Let this be a lesson to you, Scarlet. See how your body is in pain without me. See how people around you suddenly betray you. See how your mind is starting to play tricks on you… I am your only protector. You cannot live without me. You have tried many times to escape my Love, but learn that I only can decide wether or not it happens. You have no faith in me…

All of this in the name of… love, of course. You know what love means, now. Your whole body feels it at this exact moment. Worry not, my Precious Rose, it will get deeper and deeper until it intoxicates your mind.

I would always wake up in panic, almost jumping out of the bed, each and every time. Pearls of sweat were decorating my forehead, proving to me that it wasn’t just a normal nightmare… I would quickly silence my own emotions and curl myself in the protective arms of Fenrir. There, there Asmodeus would not get to me. I did put all my trust into Fenrir, whom I believed was like me; fighting over some demons crawling under his skin. Despite knowing myself to be the less trustable being of the lands, I had hopes I would be the exception, like he is to me.

Now, I was hesitating, should I share with Fenrir the stories of the Seven Curses? Or would he start doubting my true intentions? I cannot take a chance to lose him… that would destroy too much…

(…)

One night, while I was tending to my flowers, from which I was preparing some medecine from, the ill drow came to me, looking weak and desperate.

– Miluda, didn’t the last treatment work? You don’t seem well.
Holding up my usual smile, I was now an expert in covering my own feelings, barely ever opening to anyone.

– I’ll be fine, Scarlet. The problem is not me, here, I think. How are you? Truly.

My facial expression fell into most serious traits, as I made sure we were both alone in this garden of poison. She needed me, for her life, I could entrust her with a mission, maybe. What’s the worst that can happen if I ask her? I slowly pushed myself up, wiping some dirt off my warm hands, before answering to her in a secretive tone;

– I’ve been a fool and I’ve been blind. I’m always dragging some old problems along, you see. Someone in the Family is attempting to betray my fragile trust, Miluda. You know how hard it is for me to offer such to anyone? The problem I see is I start to wonder how could anyone backstab me while under the Kiss. Help me, please, before everything is destroyed. Find who is plotting… find why Asmodeus thinks he will be back… I want everything reported. Every move, every word…

– Even Fenrir’s?

I frowned when she asked this question, unable to choose the appropriate answer right away. He could prove himself to be so naïve sometimes… someone could easily manipulate him and he might not even hold a single doubt. On the other hand… no… I shook my head as a sigh left my crimson lips, quietly.

– No, not Fenrir… But all the others, for safety, please. Help me undo those plans so I don’t lose like I’ve lost in my dreams.

– Since you save my life, Scarlet, I will keep an eye on everyone and help you protect what you have created.

I have heard whispers about the existence of a Black horse, not as aggressive as the Nightmare that can be found somewhere within these lands. I offer up a reward of 100,000 Gold to one who can lead me to the place these animals dwell.-Daurninur

*A small note is written and hung on the outside of her tent with crayon*

“Uncle Clerist! I’ve gone to blow stuffs up!” *KABLEWWIE* she would whisper out loud to herself as she wrote.
“I’ll be back in no time at all! you can find me in the Destard Caverns OR OR OR in the icy one!” She paused for a moment and looked it over.. she couldn’t decide if it needed something. Oh well, she would figure it out when she returned.

Looking through the mirror, somewhere dark an old witch was casting devious and dark spells; Which seemed to attract some rather unscrupulous characters. It wasn’t long before she had something corporal again. It wasn’t much. A small hamlet of decaying flesh and bone but she had been through worse and she would go through hell again to find what she was looking for.

Back through the mirror the young girl had almost reached the bottom of Destard when she felt a pain in her stomach. It was a sharp unbearable pain and in the midst of level two of Destard she collapsed. Now the unconscious girl lay there resting as monsters began to surround her.

*next time on uncle clerist!*
There is a shoe sale at the luxloft mall and Arrianna is totally dishing over the new boy. Will their love ever be true? Stay tuned for more exciting adventures of UNCLE CLERIST!

You would see a darkly robed figure walking towards the bulletin boards settled just outside of the Narrowhaven Inn; judging by the spear the man wielded it was no other than Fenrir. His outfit had changed drastically.. more form fitting, sleek.. not at all bulky like his prior attire. Though the thing that would break your gaze from his new fashion choice would be the note he posted to the wall.

Your curiosity would get the better as you- as rumor had it Fenrir was a very generous man when it came to rewarding those who help him.. you’d take a glance at the note;

“Dear Narrowhaven Citizens,

Thank you for all your hard work attempting to find the key that I had lost– needless to say it has been recovered, in a very short time at that! However as with all keys their purpose is to unlock.. so I shall let you in on the quest that has led me from my elven home to this wonderful land.

You see, my family has entrusted me to finding the purpose of this key. What it opens I do not know- it could be a box, it could be a grimoire.. whatever the case we are looking for a strange item that has similar markings to that of the key in my possession.

The markings are as follows;

I am no expert in runes, but scholarly types would benefit well from gleaning their meaning.

Please report all progress to myself- you will find me at my home more often than naught. Information that does help with the search will be summarily rewarded at the time the information is given!

Best of luck to all of you, and stay safe in your quest!”

~Fenrir

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** OUT OF CHARACTER NOTES **

For those of you who have spoken to Fenrir about the key, you know that it was a gift from his mother- he does not know what it does exactly or where it goes to. Recently after a trip to Hythloth is has acquired runic markings and began to faintly glow.

Scholars may recognize that the runic symbols match similar markings to those from ‘northland tribes’. If you do some ‘research’ I am certain you can find a meaning to it. There IS a specific meaning to it!

Memories began to flash through Kryphon’s mind as he choked on his own blood, pressed against the floor in his library. They raced through his mind, sharp as the blade that pierced his mortal flesh, consuming all his senses in a desperate attempt to make sense of what was happening. Sense no longer mattered however, nor did the pain that blurred his vision and made all sounds distant, and remote. He was going to die. What was to become of him upon death? More memories flooded through his mind, now. Memories of serving the Ebon Skull as a slave, and before that , a student at the Magic Academy. He remembered his studies, the Elders, the…the book. The book that he himself had found and hid from all others in his greedy youth. The book he still held close and revealed to no one. Within the book were many spells, rituals, histories and lore, that he had often practiced and studied in the solitude of his Dark Tower. The book spoke of a place called the Shadowrealm, and of the Shadowlords that held Dominion within. Most of the spells and rituals contained within the book could not be used by mortals, but Kryphon kept it hidden all the same. One ritual in particular came now to his mind, one intended for Mortals. In his youth he had often thought of returning to that dark chamber from whence the book came in an attempt to perform this ritual, but with time it had fallen through the cracks of his study and been lost to the endless work placed before him by his Elders.

His body began to spasm a bit, no doubt reacting to the stygian arms of Oblivion caressing his flesh, beckoning his soul to give in to Death. To accept that which is inevidable for all mortals…If only he had the strength to return to that place..To perform this ritual and continue Oblivion’s work upon the world of men.. Sounds echoed through his skull as did visions, but surely they were false hopes generated by his mind. Weren’t they? He focused hard and made out the vision and voice of Ceinwyn. He had no idea how or why it came to pass that she was here before him now in his tower, and it mattered not. Her voice became a source of focus and strength now as he reached out for her. Upon her face was a look Kryphon had never seen her reveal. It was an expression of worry, and concern. She asked if there was anything she could do and he instructed her to retrieve the book. Quickly she ran to the place he had it hidden and brought it back, anticipating further instruction. Kryphon looked up to her and asked “Are you prepared for combat?” in a weak voice that was hardly his own. She noded surely and withdrew her blade.

The place they were about to travel was a temple the Shadowlords once used when traveling to the realm of men. It was a place of sacrifice and shadow, protected by the mindless Dead who wandered it’s halls oblivious to anything, but their own agony and torment. As a youth he and a few other students had traveled there after having read of it’s existence. They did so of course against the wishes of the Elders, and were met in force by the Dead Hordes. One within the group didn’t make it, and the others just did escape. It was in their paniced retreat that Kryphon found the book, and it was the book, that was going to change him now… forever.

Gathering all the strength he could, Kryphon summoned the ethereal horse, he so often used to travel. He then pulled from his robes a runebook that held the location, marked within. He spoke the words of power and triggered the stored magic of the book, which took affect and ripped a hole through the air, filling it with a blue glow. Ceinwyn looked over to see him on the ethereal horse, blood dripping from his wounds upon the floor, then looked to the gate, and noded again as she readied her swords and stepped through the Moongate. Kryphon noticed the look in her eyes upon seeing the blood, and knew well the restraint she displayed in not giving in to her lust for blood.(Ceinwyn having been a Vampire). Once on the other side of the gate Kryphon could see nothing. All was blanketed in darkness and only sounds told what was happening. He cast the simple spell of night sight upon himself, and his eyes confirmed the sounds of the Dead meeting the edge of Ceinwyn’s blade. Again he began to choke, his punctured lungs filling slowly with his own blood. Time was running short he knew. He projected his mental command to the Ethereal Horse and it took chase after Ceinwyn, who slashed and dodged her way through the hordes of the mindless Dead that protected these halls. At the end of the dark hallway was a set of stairs leading upward.

Kryphon gave a weak indication that that was the way and Ceinwyn made her way up, dispatching two ghouls along the way. Through the halls and passages they went, Kryphon showing the way, Ceinwyn creating the path. Kryphon was amazed at her skill with a blade, and her presence among foes. It was as if she knew every move they were about to make before making it. She dodged a clawed slash and in the same fluid movement caught the attacker across it’s neck beheading it, then moved her blade into position to parry another blow, all within the blink of an eye. Finally they reached their destination. It was a large chamber covered in runic symbols, and cast in deep shadows. Even under the affects of his Night sight spell Kryphon had trouble seeing through his already blurred vision. He indicated to Ceinwyn that this was thier destination, as he dispelled the magical horse that had carried him all the way. Ceinwyn took up a defensive place behind where Kryphon was and looked over her shoulder to see him on his knees before a large alter. She could barely make out what he was doing but she could see him pouring the contents of a bag onto the alter and heard from his voice words, that even she had never heard before. As he spoke these words his voice began to raise in volume, and intensity, despite his weakened state. All the while she cut and slashed the Dead who sought to intterupt him. Suddenly a large crash irrupted from the ceiling of the chamber, and the dead were among them no more. Giant tendrails of shadow errupted from the hole in the ceiling , and made their way toward Kryphon. Ceinwyn saw them and quickly headed straight for them, until Kryphon looked over to her and and noded his head no. His eyes were lifeless and distant, as he sat motionless.He still held something in his hands, though what it was, she could not make out.

The tendrails then reached him and constricted around him squeezing tightly. Kryphon screamed out in pain and agony, as the tendrail lifted him into the air digging their way into his flesh. They sucked from him mortality, and in it’s place filled him with shadowstuff. Ceinwyn looked on in shock as she watched his skin turn to the color of light ash . She also noticed his wounds were beginning to close up and regenerate. Kryphon’s screams stopped and he took in the shadows freely, embracing them, binding with them. Then as sudden as they had appeared the tendrals dropped him to the ground and ascended once more through the ceiling. The room fell silent as Kryphon sat upon the floor, shadows dancing all around his form, his head bowed down, his arms streched to either side. Ceinwyn walked towards him as he lifted his head to reveal crimson eyes, glowing, cutting through the shadow of the chamber. He rose and moved towards her, shadows still swirling about him, renewed, with a wicked grin upon his face. In his hand he held a Black crystal Skull that glowed purple within. He smiled to her, and without saying a word, cast another moongate, and they were gone. He now walked with the blessings of shadow, and with them, came Immortality.

Blake was rummaging through his bank chest today as a young man walked in speaking of a cavern in which he had met danger. Blake ears always perked when people spoke of hidden dangers. He placed his coinpurse into the chest and pushed it forward for C…

Solitude has it’s price
Mostly a pound of flesh at a time
Come and gone and around again
Solitude has it’s price

Her hair Auburn as the season fades
Skin softer than silk but something lies beneath
She comes and goes from time to time
But solitude has it’s price

The burning midnight oil brightens his mood
The mood that comes and goes and is around again
With soft whisper silken touch becomes saintly
But Solitude has it’s price

His plaster painted hand and her bloody cheek
The color that comes and goes
The saint has left to who knows
Solitude has it’s price

So stands a “Man” wallowing alone
The price of Solitude is one so great
That no man could withstand her taint
Yet he must sorrow for she has died

His Solitude was her price to pay

Elmore sat uncomfortably upon the oak bench within his fathers dining hall. The bench had been made poorly, like the table, uneven, and ugly. Why his father refused to allow him to work on the manor, he could not understand. Perhaps the shame of having an artisan as his eldest, instead of a knight. It made no difference. Elmore was done with fighting, for good.

The heavy doors swung open, and Abram Luxloft Warden of the North, stepped inside. His gaze instantly met with Elmores as he made his way towards the table and sat directly across from him. The Warden looked tired, stressed, but there was something else lurking inside. Something hidden.

“Dukain tells me ye were attacked again?” Abram asked, reaching for a bottle of wine from the table and filling a goblet.

“Aye, another caravan smashed to bits by the orcs. They’ve gotten more organized, and seem to be getting smarter. And they’ve begun painting themselves with Methalas colors. I think it’s time ye gave up that skull.” Elmore was tired of this. Tired of the attacks, tired of the planning, the worrying… And most of all, the stress this situation had been causing Ellora and her sister. How he might obtain Arryns skull… He still did not know.

Abram stared coldly at his eldest, unflinching, unwavering. He had made the decision weeks ago. “The Clerist has told us how dangerous these items may be. I do not think it is wise to go against him. Or question me.”

“And yet you’ve not admitted to him ye have one of the blasted things.” Elmores response was angry, his voice begining to raise. “Ye say ye wish to aid the man, and yet ye keep information from him. I do not understand father, explain it to me.”

“Ye would be wise not to question me. The Clerist is a wild card in all this. For all ye know, t’was his mistakes that caused the destruction of his world. And his regrets of that ordeal make him useless to us.”

“Us?” Elmore raised his brow.

Abram shifted in his seat, taking his hat off and placing it on the table. His demeanor altered, but only slightly, having difficulty getting out his propasal. “Aye, I would have ye move back in with me here, and help me defend the lands. As has always been my intention for ye.”

Elmore glared at the man he once had looked up to, so very long ago. “Ye mean after Willow disappeared?” He shook his head angrily, not wanting to be a part of anymore schemes, or plots, or battles. “No! Of course, a thousand times no.” He stood up abruptly. “I told ye when ye first showed yerself in Narrowhaven… I will make weapons for yer soldiers, I will shoe yer horses, prepare battlements, and supply ye with what ye need. But I will not fight for ye. And I will not lie for thee. And I refuse to be a part of these old world ideals you refuse to let go of.” A single finger raised, pointed at the man whose seed had brought him into the world. “There is no King father. Which means there are no Wardens, which means this is all for naught. Give up your skull, and ye may yet find peace in the North, in your Fortress, and for the people who chose to remain when the rest of us lost hope..”

Abram sat quietly through his sons outburst before nodding slowly, dissappointed yet understanding. “Ye are not wrong to have lost so much faith. In this land, in me. So much Chaos for so long. And your childhood mostly heartache and abandonment. But son, I ask thee to trust me this last time. If we are successful… The land can have a new King, and Order can be re-established in Britannia.”

Elmore shook his head once more. “I have a new place father. Narrowhaven is safe. Protected somehow from all of… This. I even met a woman. I have everything I could want and more. So how about this offer instead? Give up the skull. Leave Britannia. And stop all this fighting. There is no point to it.”

His fathers long silent gaze was enough of an answer. And with that, Elmore began to leave the room.

“Ye be making a mistake boy. That island shall not remain safe, if ye and the rest of those cowards remain hidden away, leaving us here to fend for ourselves. The World Eater shall be upon thee next! Be warned now son! Ye are making a mistake!”

Elmore did not look back. He only wanted to be home. With Elly.

Trust and Deception

Trust is something that most people learn as they step further into their own existence; a firm belief in the reliability, truth, or strength of someone. It comes naturally, without questions or very few, most of the time. I would qualify this offering particularly easy to give, when it comes from anyone else. After all, don’t they believe in others long before they start to grow doubts? I must admit being jealous of their capability of being so innocent. On the other side, this would completely go against everything I had worked for. Perhaps, there must be a certain balance needed between trust and secrecy, in order to survive. The lands are so full of enemies…

What does one like me do when given trust? Am I such a monster that I have an urge to betray everyone? Of course not. Treachery is probably what I despise most, on top of all. Trust is simply a way of finding a certain safety, nothing more.

(…)

I was sitting on an old wooden bench, near the Narrowhaven Bank, after a long and exhausting hunt. My long sleeved dress was gracefully stained with the blood of a few creatures that had decided to die too close to where I was standing. Contrary to others, my appearance wasn’t really the most crucial concern on my mind at that moment, while I was collecting every men’s opinion about it. These recent days had been rather calm in the Family, and I had no particular plan into choosing to add another member. I would only say to myself “C’est la routine, rien de plus, rien de moins.” And would simply smile back to them as a silent answer.

Paranoia was holding me in its arms again, and even I wasn’t able to see how particularly ridiculous all those twisted dreams were. He was asking a lot of questions, seeming curious on some details others wouldn’t even notice. I was constantly alternating white lies and truth, depending on the situation. Strangely enough, something inside of me wished I could be honest with him. It was somehow heartbreaking to silence this intuition and to continue on telling evasive answers or double meaning sentences. I just couldn’t ignore the first rule of all; never trust anyone, as they will only seek your own destruction, if they knew. I had previous experience on that level, with my long lost Selena…

(…)

Insane? I can hardly think of better words to describe myself now, for having gone against the first rule that bad. I had invited Fenrir fully into my secrets and it could be potentially deadly… in a way. I have tried to avoid him, and usually I find no particular obstacle to fleeing. But this time, it was very different. I am still unsure about what word I could put over such passion and desire to keep him mine forever. Greed? Perhaps, it might be similar to the curse of obsession even thought it feels more like a blessing? That question will remain a mystery, for now, but I’ll have to act in order to survive.

I had just learned trust, for the first time.

This morning rumor has it that Fenrir looked to be quite frantic from his usual demeanor- so worried was he that the note he tagged to the bulletin in front of the Narrowhaven Inn would be askew;

“Dear Citizens of Narrowhaven,

Thank you kindly for your consideration. ~Fenrir”