Runics:The runics have been adjusted once more! They are now consistently better across the board, although the highest level ones became a little more rare once more. Also for the sake of math the absolute lowest level runics have been removed, for e…
The young woman lay trembling on the cold damp stone slab, her muffled whimpers creeping past the gag wrapped tightly around her mouth. She watched the hooded figure as he hummed to himself in some nonsensical tune while he sorted through various objects that were crusted in dried blood. Her eyes widened in the horrific realization that she would not leave this place alive. The figure turned to her, slowly, deliberately. The hooded figure approached her and lingered at the end of the slab by her feet. He revealed a long fingered, pale, bony hand, and caressed one foot. She looked at him, his face, but saw nothing. It was shadow. It was blackness. It was hell.
“Ahh…so you see now my child.” Said a voice from with in that blackened hood. A low voice, deep and hoarse at the same time. The woman’s trembles became shakes. He slowly made his way around the slab toward her head, trailing his pale fingers along her body as he moved, and finally resting them over her forehead as if he were checking for a fever. The blackness of that hood was so close to her now, and still she saw nothing. His head tilted up slightly as if he were pondering, and he took in a wheezy breath.
“Your people..” He paused, and she moaned horrified. His face! She could see it! But oh god how she wish it were blackened again.
“…you wander aimlessly. Too and fro for that ever so important errand, for the clink of coins, for your desires….” The face becoming more clear. It…moved. No it still looked upwards as he spoke as if the air held his thoughts, but his features….moved! Her eyes seemed to peel back as the face became more and more distinctive.
“….yet you do not know significance, a significance other than, yourselves.” His face turned down to her and her eyes met what were his eyes. Empty, hollow, Hell. His face was as a multitude of maggots. Twisting, turning, and weaving over and over and over. She screamed.
“Your dreams, ” he continued, leaning in closer. “your hopes, like leaves in the breeze. All it takes is a strong wind, to blow it all away.” He raised a bloody dagger to her throat and slid it across. Her muffled scream became a choking gurgle.
“And I, am the storm.”
The day began as any other for Lucius, he began it by taking care of a few errands, both personal and professional. He started by reviewing transcriptions from court on the day prior, reading the records slowly to make sure that there was not somethi…
We added some engraving tools to the crafting rewards books. They can be found in the far left book labeled ‘Other’. You’ll be able to use them to engrave leather bags, wooden containers, metal containers, spell and runebooks as well as food.
Note: This story is a retelling, there will be commentary straight from Quinn himself as the story evolves.
Part One, Ten Years in the Making
“I’m cold…” The words were soft, the vibration of tiny vocal cords squeaking them to life, leaking innocently into the air. A child lay upon the stone surface of a darkened, dank room. His nimble, pale-red arms curled around his knobby knees. He attempted to capture the heat of his body into the tiny ball he formed along the wall. His sentiments were shared, “me too,” replying from across the gloomy darkness, which hung thick between them.
The floor was covered in a wet sheet of melted ice, provided by empty buckets in the corner, which would be filled from time to time by the hosts—a feint blurting of the men’s voices that bleated in a distant, undecipherable combination of echoes outside the steel door on the far side of the room. Trembling with pain, the boy scooted along the floor, his small hand flopping down and reaching out to the sound of careful splashing. “Take my hand,” the boy whispered, his outstretched palm splayed open, reaching with all the might his quiet, shivering desperation could muster.
If only the chain from a steel manacle, which bit hard around the raw skin of his tiny ankle had been a few inches longer, the two sets of fingers might find the haven both eagerly sought. A ripple along the surface of the frigid puddle decorating the floor went slowly still, a lone, hushed droplet that came welling from the flap of the young tiefling’s eyelid. “I can’t reach you,” his quiet call of anxiety not quite silent enough, the steel door harangued open, startling the two children who scrambled to the opposite side in a heap of terrified arms and legs.
The scrape of one steel bucket against stone following closely behind the rickety, unforgiving tone, “Oh, awake are we? Get away from her you little welp!” The frozen cubes were cast outward, forming a bridge from the lip of it, which connected in a clashing shower down upon its target. A smog of steam hissed outward as each translucent cube smattered over the hot red flesh.
Pain, “Sister–!” the little voice stung outward, before the mouth was stifled by the tip of a boot which interjected the plea, and quiet was the next word as always. The man whom had kicked this obedience into the boy, sparing not an iota of guilt, lifted the tattered loin cloth away from the bare-bottom of the scarlet-fleshed adolescent.
He satisfied himself at the boy’s pain, absorbing his own pleasure, taking his own control… the sheer tenacity of his act, every thrust contorting, consuming, enraging the young boy’s mind. The young tiefling girl watched, curled into herself, her brother disgraced, taken… his servitude held along the hard penetration that destroyed his soul.
“And so was the first ten years of my life. You have to understand, the way I have come to understand, it is less than likely that human beings understand themselves. They will always find an excuse for their barbarism. Unfortunately, nature is not so kind to those that are so kind to themselves. There is a particular experience to be gained from the indulgence of one’s own misery, you do, after enough pain and embarrassment and humiliation, start to see the true nature of things. You, ultimately, come to understand that the tools for your torture, are being carried on the strain of your own back, and in the case of my young life… my own backside.
When I was very young, humans had never yet experienced the delight of a birthed tiefling. In their eyes, I was an abomination. I had horns, I had red skin, and I seemed to have a perpetual fever that they could hardly understand, the warmth of which they could not deny themselves… but they could indeed temper to ensure I made a good slave for their usage. What many will not understand, is that the entire essence of my supernaturality, is the ability for my brain to withstand supernatural temperatures. A human brain cannot survive at a high temperature for very long, but mine… only empowers itself.
Human beings came to understand this very quickly, in my case. After I was born, I grew exponentially. My muscles, although no more powerful than the above average human male, never seemed to become tired. I was capable of moving weight, digging in the mines, carrying buckets of ice (to my own dismay) for very long periods of time. I also never required sleep, so you can imagine how this might have made me an efficient slave.
However, despite the frigid torture of humanity, it was a rather difficult affair to keep me… tame. The method for which they derived to fully control me, involved my feelings. I had a great love for my sister… ice-torture upon her, was the surest way to force me to adhere… to nearly any demand…”
Arimus waved his hand over the sphere he’d attuned to Marius and slammed a gauntleted hand against the wall. Why couldn’t he see him? That damned building. When they spoke in that hall, he could not see what they plotted. He could not know their intentions, their movements, and it was maddening. What loop hole had he found? What magic did he work? Could it be the work of that magister, Lucius, who’d recently aligned with him? No. He had seen Lucius and Marius speaking in other places, but his sight was always absent in that hall.
Perhaps one of the others was interfering? Who? There were few beings left with enough power to rival his own, fewer still who would be bothered to interfere with the baser workings of his favored pawns. He would go there and raze the hall himself. He would remind them of their place, remind them of who was in control, and perhaps send a message to the one who interfered with his movements that he was not to be trifled with. That he wasn’t afraid to make his presence known, even to his enemies. A violent storm began to form over Jhelom, blackening the skies save for roaring thunder and intense flashes of lightning. They were so rampant that Arimus appeared to walk in slow motion as he moved through the streets. If they were present in the hall he could not know it. His attack would draw them out, if any were within, and they would know they had crossed a line. Perhaps killing some of them would send a proper message, one they wouldn’t forget. He rounded a corner, now on the same dirt road that would lead him to the hall, it lay only several yards north of him. He took a few more steps….
The storm that had roared in over Jhelom was suddenly gone, leaving only clear blue skies. Marius stepped out the front door to glance skywards, and then down the two adjoining streets that ran north to south and east to west along the combat pit in the center of the island. People milled out of nearby buildings. Fighters, relieved at the break the brief storm brought, descended back into the combat pit. Smiths, merchants, and traders returned to their work. Men from the docks headed back to their piers to fish, and work on boats. While he found the storm to be an oddity, it was no cause for concern. He closed and locked the doors to the hall. He had more books to retrieve from the library if he was intent on finding a way to relinquish their servitude. The allies he was gathering might not be enough on their own, and perhaps in this place along with the other knowledge he’d gleaned in past lives he might find the answers he needed to see them free. He set off to the south, traveling several yards before he rounded the corner of the combat pit walking along its east side. He was now on the same dirt path that would lead him to the library. He took a few more steps…
Arimus found himself standing in the midst of a rolling green field that stretched on endlessly. It was dotted with trees, and flowers, hills and wildlife. A crystal clear blue sky rolled overhead, absent all but a few hazed clouds. He knew this place, and it had been more than a while since his last visit. Arimus called out to the wind “Bentarum, as I am standing here in your home I can only assume you’re the one who interferes with my hand?” He heard a loud crunching sound behind him and turned to find Bentarum sitting beneath a tree, he spoke in response between chewing on a large apple. “I do, but I don’t appreciate that you call them yours. You knew that your stewardship was going to be contested at some point, or at the very least, you should have known. It may still remain that you are strongest amongst us, emphasis on may, but that doesn’t mean you’re best suited to coordinate them anymore. They are the hand, our hand, but not just your hand. Not anymore. You see, I recently discovered what you’re doing. I suspect the others don’t know yet. What will they do when they learn I wonder? I don’t know what game you were playing at, and I don’t care. If you continue to interfere with them, however, I will cast you out myself. I may be the most recent addition to our ranks, but it was not so long ago as we measure time that I stood as a mortal. I was not only a great warrior but a shrewd and wise leader. I did not subvert and destroy my enemies through strength alone. I do not know where all of your secrets are buried Arimus, but in time I will. I should hate to think of the calamity it would cause in the meanwhile if the others were to learn of your betrayal, what you’ve been hiding. It was not what was agreed upon. It was not what we promised her, nor are you in a position to break that vow at the expense of myself and the others. How many of them have you taken I wonder? How many times have you robbed them of their memories to hide the truth from them? How quickly will they bring the fight to your door when they finally learn the truth?” Arimus narrowed his eyes as Bentarum tossed aside his apple and continued to talk, his voice rising in slight anger. “It was all she asked of us and you would trample on it.” He got to his feet drawing his sword, and the place in which they stood shifted into an endless and war torn battlefield. “Before I allow you to leave, to crawl back to your hole and hide, I will give you a permanent reminder of why I was tasked with upholding the sanctity of the pact we made with her, and any who should see you will know you were struck by my blade.” Arimus smiled as he took on his battle form, drawing his own weapon. “Long have I waited for the chance to remind you of your place Watcher, know that I will not hold back in this fight, and you’ve only yourself to blame for what comes of it.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Ga_scOywc0He walked aimlessly for the length of the long night.. His footfalls silent.. the world around him greytones and yet still.. on he went.. wandering into the blackness.. seeking the end. The world around him d…
* posters are placed through out narrow haven and the caves of the under darkNext saturday the 9th at 6:00 pm central time there will be a talent show held with a prize at the endall talents are welcome form singing to dancing its your choice what you…