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Playing:
Marcus Valis

In the early morning hours of the next day before dawn... a dark clad being perched two dozen yards over the village of Gulorand. Gazing down to the homes below as if he were entitled to them. The half-dragon overlooking for some time at the smoke from chimneys. Flickers of light emitted by the magical insets on his armor reflecting off the crimson scaled wings from occasionally. He rumbled under his breath into the wind, a loud flap and flutter of wings on the buffeting mountain winds took him to the skies, moving on as the weather was entirely dissatisfying to him.


...Those fateful words?


"You owe me Mynna..."

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Dwagin [Duh-wa-GIN] N. - 1a. Small and cute thingum, particularly fond of four legged scaled creatures of the metalic and chromatic varieties.

-Extraordinarily ordinary in the mostest of ways.

Early the next morning a blue robed man with a metal staff can be seen making his way through Guldorand. He moves from house to house and the small groups taking time to talk to whomever he can, asking of their needs. From obviously magical bags he provides each with several days worth of water-skins, rations, and basic healing supplies.

He pays careful attention to the children, keeping distance from those that are wary, but for those that approach, however, he does what he can to elicit a smile or a laugh. A display of magical lights here, conjuring up a flower for one of the formerly captured girls before urging them to go back to spend time with their families.

Once night falls again, he invokes a few protective and detecting magics and stands vigil near the waterfall.

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Various acts of benevolence afforded the townsfolk act as a nucleus for the confused and frightened people of Guldorand. While grateful for the aid, the hope it provides is turning out to be a much more powerful force. Many there cling to a 'hero figure' who has shown his face in the town. Elated children call out the name "Papa Dominik", who has become a nearly mythical benefactor-figure to them.

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Those trees won't burn themselves down. (by Maryn)

During the twilight hours a silent dark figure skulked about the rocks of the cave entrance near Guldorand. Perched from a high vantage point, the ears twitched with the faint sounds of laughter. With a tilt of the head and a snort, the beast went about its business of hiding its treasure...

Some time later after the sun had fallen and the days light had long faded, the mage in blue, while on his vigil, heard a slow rumbling that has been invested in all creatures to respond with fear and dread... As eyes met.. the calm demeanor of the mage made it well known, fear was not what he felt. After a moment, the yellow slitted eyes narrowed slightly and suddenly rose with the head. With a plop of spraying snow the creature's haunches dropped suddenly.

"Svan.. what are you doing out here?" In response, the black panther snorted and lay atop some nearyby fallen boughs and appeared to fall asleep with deep even breaths.

...dozens of miles away inside a stone tower a gnome lay in his bed for the evening with a smile on his face...

-----------------

...that smile disappeared the next morning as the bed was unusually cold and lacking a distict amount of fur. Grumbling with aches of a chilled sleep the gnome wandered sleepily over to his desk in fuzzy slippers and his wollen floppy cone hat. "...bloody cat..." he mumbled as he placed a hand over a locket and closed his eyes...

The joyous laughter of children permeated the area as the blue robed mage leaned against a fence, watching the unusual sight of a half a dozen children wrestling with a gentle, two hundred pound panther. "...are you certain Dominik..?" a worried parent voiced to the mage. "Ma'am, this cat and its master are well known to me and there is nothing to fear." The genuine smile offered, seemed to melt the anxiety of the small group of parents. Indeed, the cat was purring...

...the gnome dressed himself in his common robes and left the room whistling a folk song of his kin...

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~Science Transcript~
Bruce Kesselson: [Talk] Channeling a different color.. Vyashir!
Vyashir lndrire: [Talk] Purple?
Bruce Kesselson: [Talk] Prepare for purple!
Vyashir lndrire: [Talk] yes!

It was a quiet night as Riia stood looking over the tent Rras had placed. He had told her to finish setting it up, but she really couldn't see what else needed to be done. So she drew in a deep breath and leaned on her staff, simply waiting there with a quiet smile. There were many people who disliked the half dragon, claimed he was working with the vampires of Mortegaurde's coven. She believed in him, though. She saw good in him, and she longed to make others see it as well. She loved him dearly, and found that she prayed for his safety every night before she slept. He deserved happiness, and these vampires would be ended soon enough to help make sure of that.

Rras returned with a boar just as goblins and wolves ambushed her. She cast a single fireball, as she hadn't seen Rras yet, and effectively cooked their meal. She laughed at the look of surprise on the half dragon's face, then grinned at him as he moved to her side and began to prepare their meal.

But their night of simple enjoyment turned. Their time together, finally alone and away from the burdens of duty even if only briefly, came to a crashing end. The vampires had come as soon as the sun had set. She fought, but found that her spells were not sufficient in dealing with the menace. She was knocked down. Bloodied and battered, her staff fell from her hands and she could only watch as she was taken and dragged away. Rras followed. She was confused at first, wondering why he had stopped fighting and had only watched as they took her. But she knew the answer. Why fight a losing battle when the one you love is the sacrifice? She would likely have done the same...waiting until Asher was distracted to attempt to shove a stake through his heart, as Rras did. He had apparently missed, though, and the vampires turned on him, aggressively taking him to the ground and forcing him to watch what happened.

There was a little girl... Before Riia could so much as think about the situation, the girl's throat was cut, her blood caught in a cup held in the vampire lord's hand. Riia cried out in dismay at the sight and was struck silent, still, as the body stopped moving. She could hear the arrival of others, but she couldn't look away from the little girl's corpse. Asher said a few words, and then tried to make Riia drink. She refused, though. How could she possibly drink the blood of an innocent little girl to save her own skin? She would rather die.

But then many things happened. A spell was cast by her would-be saviors and the cup knocked from Asher's hands. She saw the blade in the vampire's grasp before she heard his taunting words, or felt the searing pain. She heard Rras's lament, a muffled cry of pain that matched the pain of her heart. She had heard Asher's words. This strike was not meant to kill her, but to imprison her soul within a gem. She had already been trapped in such a way before, but this time was different...

Her vision blurred as the blood drained from her throat. Tears poured down her cheeks and in the last moments of her physical life, she could only think one thing...

I'm so sorry...

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Early in the morning Bruce made his daily rounds, having gotten into the habit after becoming adjunct. It was a time to check wards, as well as the staff reports, daily census, etcetra. This was all rote by now except for one component he dedicated himself with above all. Coming to the bottom floor of the Monolith he spied a small girl of exceptionally young age by gnomish standards floating about Amywien. With a smile on his face he approached and held out his hand for her to follow. "We're going to be outside near the campfire today Priestess, we're going to hunt for hermit crabs..." With a kind smile and a nod, they left.

Some time later the pair returned, Bruce was speaking quietly about how the hermit crabs will trade up in their shells when they outgrow smaller ones. Amywien received the girl once more and spoke quietly with Bruce about her progress. A poor thing, kept in a cave for years, her mother murdered, and the most shocking realization of all, her name was 'food' by her own accounting. Still, the adjunct and the priestess held to the belief that children have an amazing ability to heal and move forward. After their brief exchange, Bruce knelt before the girl and smiled the way he reserved for his baby siblings back home. "Ok Rii (REE'), I'll see you tomorrow sweatheart. Have a wonderful day with Amywien.."

As he stood and walked towards the steps to the lift, he pondered the choice of names he had given her. He felt it appropriate as the day one life was sequestered, another was freed... Rii.. I think she would have liked that.

Before going up the lift, Wess handed Bruce the golems' logs for the night before and a morning brief. The rest of the day, could now begin.

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~Science Transcript~
Bruce Kesselson: [Talk] Channeling a different color.. Vyashir!
Vyashir lndrire: [Talk] Purple?
Bruce Kesselson: [Talk] Prepare for purple!
Vyashir lndrire: [Talk] yes!

Several patrols this time of Cordor and Bendir guard have left the walls of the cities, never to return alive. Bodies, or parts of them, are sometimes found later, along the roads in a strange fashion.

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Those trees won't burn themselves down. (by Maryn)

A Hooded Dark Robed Figure can be seen collecting the bodies and some of the bodyparts with the aid of a Skeleton leaving that which he deems useless. Before he or his skeleton takes them however, they are completely removed of any items they had. Anyone who takes note of this would see that only the humans have been taken, for what reason is unclear.

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Khaldun Menetnashte Khalfani
Victor Wilkinson

^totally not a lie or anything.

"I have nothing to say to you."

"You will not come."

"You have to stay behind.. trust, what we talked about."

"Don't listen to the idiots... and look after my back... I mean; instead of ogling my backside."


Near the Portal Crystal of the Amian forest crossroads a rather unique swamp gator-skin cushions, and three empty bottles of whiskey.
Voices echo in his mind- simmered in a complete drunken stupor. An epic battle played out for better or for worse, without him.
Deeper in the forest the red half-dragon sleeps, curled in the cranny of a high ledge.
Sloshed out of his mind; remaining bottles of whiskey his only companions.
A rough, monstrous face streaked with tears of emotion.

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Dwagin [Duh-wa-GIN] N. - 1a. Small and cute thingum, particularly fond of four legged scaled creatures of the metalic and chromatic varieties.

-Extraordinarily ordinary in the mostest of ways.

A large force, opposing the enemies of Daylight, arrives to the Lair of the Count Mortegaurde!

They swiftly return his minions to dust, as they approach the door to his inner sanctum...

Yet the Vampires were well prepared for this assault. Their traps and ambushes were prepared as if someone had told them of the impending raid.

In the end, the sealed prismatic door had the final say.

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Those trees won't burn themselves down. (by Maryn)

Cerri walked a lot slower these past few days. Lack of sleep will do that too you. Horrible nightmares plagued the carefree bard. Some reoccurring, such as her inability to perform at the grand opening due to a sore throat...or more appropriately, a missing throat.

Time after time she'd step onto the stage smiling prepared to belt out that first melodious note note, only to produce a large amount of blood and bile from between her lips as she'd reach up and feel the muscles of her neckline raw and slippery due to the lack of skin.

Again she'd wake screaming before taking a few deep breaths and a mindblank cocktail. Maybe she'd just forgo sleep entirely till this whole mess was finished.

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We are all here on earth to help others; what on earth the others are here for I don't know.

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~Everything has beauty, some just don't look for it~

Looking to make a new siggy! PM me if you want the challenge.

With a few quiet parting words, Zelly wanders back to the Monolith alone. She doesn't say anything as she finds a quiet, empty corner in an unused room - of which there are many with the recent evacuation. Once in her secluded spot, she curls up into a ball and simply cries. She lets it all out: the fear, the anger, the fright, the frustration, and most of all, the terror.

She stays there for quite a long time.

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After many of these events a man dressed in the garb of a priest of the Saladrian faith is seen speaking with survivors offering aid and advice, often taking those who have been saved or direct contact with the vampires for consultations.

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If i am not about when you are, but you would like to RP with Valkin, chose a time in red (GMT+8) / add character name PM me ICLY/OCC :http://teamup.com/ks662ccbfedda01eb0/

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GM "Roll a new sheet, you died for blasphemy."
P1 "Was the comment he made that bad?"
*dice roll for chart*
GM "A Sun elf dry-humping the temple statue of Lloth during worship."
P1 "...so new character you say?"

For a long moment Cassius stared at the prisoners. Malnourished and beaten, they did not have much life left in them. Giving them a quick death would be merciful, yet he stayed his hand.

What victory would be given to the enemies of Kelemvor had Cassius's own master given him merciful death long ago when he was a child instead of rescuing him from slavery to a necromancer?

The easy path would no doubt be their deaths, and realizing he could be choosing that course of action because it was easier...made him hesitate in action to look within himself.

In that moment, he understood years of previous mistakes. He had blinded himself to the simple fact that half the time the deaths he gave were not for Kelemvor, but for himself, no matter how he claimed or rationalized otherwise.

With the understanding of this new perception of himself and his previous path, Cassius chose the harder route this day, and began to give aid to the prisoners, making them his first priority, rather than the destruction of undead which he had always done. This day, he would care for the living first.

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Running with +5 vorpal scissors

Originally, Theos had arrived at the tower looking for Headmaster Ulrik. A polite mage on the way out of the tower was able to inform him that that the Headmaster could be found above in the library. When Theos arrived, he found not only the headmaster, but several of his mages, Neveah, and Lord Yaston, First Knight of the Triadic Order. He politely inclined his head to the Headmaster and Yaston as the room chattered anxiously about a recent fight. They told of attempting to raid the vampire coven and of the barrier that stopped them. This brought Theos' trip to the forefront.

"Lord Yaston, were you able to speak with Sir Justin?" the druid asked. Yaston held up a hand and nodded, then nodded towards Ulrik. Though puzzled why, Theos got the message; it wasn't safe to discuss the matter in this mixed company. Before Theos could inquire further, a mage outside called away Yaston to address a problem with Elle.

Headmaster Ulrik, clearly distraught from whatever had transpired, accepted a tea cup from Nev and retired to the far side of the room to be introspective with his thoughts before the fire. Theos went out of the room seeing he'd get no furter in discussing matters now and learned from a passing adventurer that Lord Yaston had gone to Wiltun to tend to the insane Elle. Well, more insane than usual.

Theos left the tower into the fading light of the setting sun and set off by boat to Wiltun. When he arrived, he found the landscape unusually dark, torches and braziers seemed unlit or to not be producing the right amount of light. Absent mindendly, the annoyed druid cast "Light" on himself, only to see it fizzle. Puzzled, he tried a second time, only to see that fail as well. Looking about at the encroaching dark, he realized something was wrong.

Within the town, he found Yaston trying to administer to Elle with Elle's Companion Lila shouting at him and the crowd that was gathering. One of Lord Yastons' knights, a man Theos had not met before stood with him trying to assist. The growing din amongst the adventurers was of worry about the coming darkness. Seeing that he could be of no real help there, Theos hurried back to the Tower to let them know of the strange occurance.

By the time he arrived back at the tower, the darkness had settled there as well. Rushing at his best speed, Theos arrived back in the library to warn the Headmaster of the coming darkness. Ulrik sent his mages into action, looking to secure the building and Theos set off back to find Yaston. When he arrived, Yaston agreed to return to the tower, but the other knight with him was in need of a weapon. When Theos turned back from helping the Knight, Yaston was gone. Together, several of the adventurers rushed back to the Tower where Kalin Blake met up with them. He too was concerned with Yaston's seeming disappeareance and a search was started to find him somewhere in the tower as well as check for intruders. Cory Shadowflame and some of the mages were left at the front door to guard against intruders.

Theos brought Koloth and Ramoth with him through the tower searching floor by floor until he ran into Headmaster Ulrik. The Headmaster informed him that while on the roof of the tower, a flight of large bats had been observed on their way to Caraigh and that the Knights were on their way to the mill town to secure it. Theos quickly realized he should check on the Glade and portaled away to Caraigh as well.

When Theos arrived, he encountered Eldania and informed her of the dangers. As she went off to get her slayer gear on, Theos checked on a couple of areas before setting off across the Dormenwood for the mill. If he arrived from the south, he hoped to provide support to the knights in any combat they were facing. Knowing the time was ticking away, he nearly ran into an adventurer in the dark being accusted by a rather cliche villain in black with a bone arm, wielding two glowing red weapons and a female wearing a war knight insignia.

The wannabe-evil mage was ranting at the adventurer in front of Theos as the woman laughed derisively or smirked at the man's plight. Theos had no patience for such nonsense and stepped forward. The mage apparently hadn't seen him initially but quickly regained his composure and began in on Theos. Theos told him he had no time to waste with "silly" would-be villains and to disperse. The mage said he could easily destroy Theos and for him to flee, to which the War Knight laughed and laughed, terribly excited by all of this.

Annoyed and out of time, Theos shifted into a terrifying Dragon which sent the mage slinking off to cower elsewhere. The War Knight, still laughing like an insane woman, dashed off as well.

Theos hadn't even noticed Eldania and had barely registered the crying child, so focused on dealing with the twit on the road. It was at this moment that the "child" attacked, lunging at the ranger and tearing her arm open. Faster than their friend, Koloth and Ramoth leapt over the nearby fence to give chase. The vampire fled back towards the treeline, but four legs were faster than two. Even in the dark, the wolves' hearing and sense of smell guided them unerringly towards their prey. Adrenaline rushing through them at the excitement of the chase, the wolves slammed into the retreating vampire, bringing her down swiftly for the kill.

The unnamed adventurer came over with Eldania who was tending to her wound. As Theos bent down to examine what was left, the necromancer reappeared, attacking with a bigby's that stunned Theos. Too busy shouting of his great and mighty victory in a snivveling voice, the mage was unprepared for the two grey shapes that leapt at him.

Fleeing in abject terror, the mage managed to summon a fiend from beyond the planes. He paused, thinking this creature could stand against the wolves. He was wrong, as they leapt upon his "pet", rending it to pieces. Striking from the sky, Eldania's loyal hawk took the fool's weapons as easily as snatching eggs from an unguarded nest!

Sensing his imminent defeat, the mage shouted off about his great power and how weak druids were before vanishing from the material plane by means unknown.

Theos returned to report the fight with the vampire and the local idiot to the Tower, hoping that the others had had more success...

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Working on tastey new adventures!
Playing: Theos Gend, Perry Sawmir, Mers Larin
Good? Bad? I'm the guy with the two giant wolves.

Dominik woke up in his bed at the Tower, a red scaled psudodragon curled around one of the posts supporting the frame watching him intently. He didn't remember coming back. He closed his eyes and took account of his person.

He was exhausted even with the unintended sleep, but this was nothing new, it had been over a week since he'd slept soundly. Nightmares filled with desecrated children, darkness, and biting teeth had seen to that.

His left shoulder hurt more than usual. Only his left shoulder hurt. Watchman's Carry. He had been healed then carried back. Left arm slung over the shoulder of another... someone larger then himself.

This gave him pause and he opened his eyes, sitting up in bed.

His robes weren't on him. He remembered them being covered in gashes, burns and dark crimson stains. The bats, the vampires, and the energies of the confounded door provided those.
The robes still bored the marks, just they were draped over his chair. Someone had obviously seen to his needs. The thought made him smile, he was in the Monolith. He was among friends.

The smile faded almost immediately. The thoughts of kinship replaced with a vision of prisoners near fighting each other over drops from a heal potion, kept in a cage within a cellar. He couldn't remember if they'd actually escaped. He didn't know their names, where they were from, or if they were in a condition to survive on their own.

The thought caused him to push out of the bed. He wandered the tower asking about the prisoners until he ran into Nevaeh. He got some of the answers but she was barely standing herself.

The Dragon-Kin was outside he needed to speak with him. He had been harsh earlier, but it was necessary, and it served its purpose. He staggered at the news and played it off as the exhaustion that truly was there. He wanted to step outside, to rage at the Dragon-kin but choked it down.. barely. He was too tired for constructive conversation, it would have to wait until tomorrow.

He extracted a promise... more or less.. from Nevaeh, and spent the remainder of the night wandering the halls of the tower, a large aged book of fables tucked under his arm to to see if she would defy it.

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After reporting the days incidents to Mengala Jendra headed to the orphanage where she often reads to the children with her familiar Mali, they fey they enjoy playing with. She offers medical aide as well as some stories and other entertainment to the children. As well as some possibly needed security for the night before returning in the morning to the Monolith.

In a room in a tower on a rock in the midst of the Trackless Sea, a wizard sat watching a dancing candle-flame. Rest had come for him, and then left him. His sleep was often broken these days. And so, he had come here, to see to a promise made.

Pensive thought and silent prayer held him as his eyes watched over the small, darting flame, and as his heart and soul searched for the resolve to continue on.

I have not the time for games. This has gone on for too long, and far too many innocents have suffered. Enough is enough.

This final act has overstepped over your bounds, Count. You betray your desperation. An army was upon your doorstep, and your last final elite guard decimated into ash. Your final desperate attempts to drive us apart. The games you play, the dance you dance... was met with the resolve of the folks of this island in spite of your efforts. Is that what struck fear into that cold, dead heart of yours? That your pawns have failed to divide us enough?

Your end, and the end of your court fast approaches, Count Cristophe Artemis d'Mortegaurde.

So help us, Mother of Magic. I know not if you hear my prayers, I know not if I am worthy - but I know you hear the prayers of others, the prayers of your loyal followers as they have been struck down in this place devoted to you. As they have suffered in your name. Guide our magic, Lady of Mysteries, so that it may banish this blemish, this dark mar, from the face of Toril forever.

He stood, placing the candle back on the desk. Rising, he looked over the darkened room, one final time, lingering a few minutes more before slipping out quietly. Having seem to his promise, the wizard returned to his quarters to seek a few more hours of sleep, while he could.

Instead of sleep, he found himself looking over a crystal ball. He took in hand a small blue and red feather-weaving, a symbol of Mystra. Held in hand, he intoned the words of a scrying divination. As an image danced in the crystal ball, he finally smiled.

"Real strength comes from the heart and soul. Faith and love... these are the things that will see your victory."

Words of a voice he knew not, words not his own, words etched into the wizard's mind as vivid and clear as day.

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Playing:
Marcus Valis

Out in the midst of the Trackless Sea, between Ruathym and Amia, a storm brews.

To the untrained, it may appear to be a sort of massive hurricane. Those who gaze upon it are awed by its size and swirling, black winds. Yet those who travel the seas with any frequency would know that this were not a normal hurricane, for this wall of air takes in all but a few traces of light. The clouds of the storm seem to be nothing more than whirling shadows that would eclipse everything beneath them.

Authorities and harbormasters issue various advisories against sea travel in advance of this 'storm'. It seems to be making an advance towards Amia.



Based on its rate of progress, the storm will make landfall in seven days...

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Those trees won't burn themselves down. (by Maryn)

Ascalon was surprised, disappointed, and angry. For all the planning and all the talk the headmaster of the Monolith was giving on their way into the lair of how he knew the layout of the place, it was the wizard and his ilk that had failed them that day. A door, a measly door for which mages only could open... had escaped their foresight. And so the Count would live another day to wreak havoc on the land.

His mind replayed those thoughts as he guarded the door to their precious Monolith long into the night as they slept. He did so dutifully, as he had been asked to do so by one of his racial superiors, a half-dragon, but he did not like it. Why guard those that are so woefully unprepared? What Gnomish trick was this that they convinced everyone that they held the key to ending the Count, but could fail them all and receive pats on the back? As dawn broke, he pulled the string upon his traps and left, vanishing into a shadow as his task was then complete.

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Eli Hodgewall <{/,~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X
Sven <=={o===========>
Qeelak \ | / ,

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My Characters:
Yuilith Kethil Menaiivan Garadeth

Ryan gazes out into the sea, his usual smile fades and his shoulders slump, merely uttering one word.

"Drat."

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*looks out her cell window* Excellent this looks jsut like the storm I brought to the island so many years ago. *she says it loud enough so the guards on duty will hear it, she turns to the guard and says* Get Yaston I may know how to stop the storm from coming, this looks like one I caused a few years ago*

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"Do or do not there is no try" -Master Yoda-

*Malandria's gaze lingers a good while on the swirling black masses of the building storm. She seems deep in thought for a good while, a frown clearly displayed on her troubled expression. After a long while she finally manages to tear away her gaze and decides to end her partol early this day. She makes her way to the tree-house to inform the other protectors. Upon noticing that Willow already did so, she leaves a note underneath and heads back outside after scribbeling down a note for Ulrik and bringing it on its way*

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~Everything has beauty, some just don't look for it~

Looking to make a new siggy! PM me if you want the challenge.

From the small, rainswept island that houses the Mystran Monolith, letters are dispatched. Each is sealed in wax, adorned with the stars and symbol of Lady of Mysteries. Each letter is handwritten, in a precise and delicate script.

They are sent to:
-The First and Second Knight of the Knights of the Triad, in Kohlingen
-The current head of the Dawnguard
-The Cathedral of the Martyr-saint, the Eternal Order
-Malandria & Willow Maynare
-Theos Gend
-Jud'vardas of the Shrine of Eilistraee

News of the following also spreads within the Mystran tower itself, among those both defending and awaiting word within the beleaguered halls, be they members of the tower or its friends and allies.

Friends & Allies - Foes of the Count Cristophe Artemis d'Mortegaurde and his vampire coven:

The end of our foe fast approaches. For far too long has the Count and his coven been a blemish, a mar on these isles. Far too many have suffered. Far too many have been lost. This struggle, this war - and it has been nothing less than a war - against a great and terrible evil must be ended. And victory is the only option, for defeat will bring nothing but darkness, slavery, and the brutal tyranny of an undying enemy.

Our last strike against the lair of d'Mortegaurde has demonstrated one thing. The Count fears the rising of goodly folk against him. The storm that is brewing over the Trackless sea, and the darkness that has engulfed the tower and the isles of Ruathym that is approaching the Amian isle proper has been caused by him. A last desperate bid to bring darkness eternal over the region.

Make no mistake. Our foe is powerful, and our foe is shrewd. The coven has manipulated and hurt many good folks whom have stood against them. The coven has attempted to divide those who would oppose them. They have attempted to sow mistrust, doubt, and have planted suspicions. Yet suspicion and doubt may be countered by the light of illumination and knowledge, and pain and division may be countered by strength of spirit and faith.

The Count must be destroyed. His court of Vampire lords must be ended. His coven must be wiped out. For good. Our last attack has demonstrated that numbers and strength of arms is not enough. We must prepare. Thus, I am asking of each of you, those who would join the fight against the Count, to attend one final meeting, one final war council, at the Mystran Monolith. To, in brief: Discuss, plan, and then to rally our forces and those who would join us and strike.

Time is something we do not have. I hope and pray you will attend, for all will be needed to end this threat once and for all.

Mystra's Light in these dark days,
`Ulrik Valis, Headmaster
Mystra's Monolith, Ruathym


//OOC: Saturday - viewtopic.php?f=2&t=50812

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Playing:
Marcus Valis

Ulrik Valis isn't the only one burning the midnight oil with the toil of the written word. As a welcoming vampire-free dawn rises the following morning, Cordor - and by rapidly increasing degrees, the rest of the Amian island - has one thing on its mind.

Vampires.




Yes, dear readers, you are reading it here first! The Amian Recorder, Voice of the People and the Instrument of Truth, has inherited vital information that impact the well-being of every common man and woman not only in Cordor, but across the whole of the Amian island! And as is my solemn and sacred duty as the just reporter, accountable to both my fellow man and to the Manifesto of the Journalist, I bring you a shocking story of death denied, of diabolical VAMPIRISM!, and a stunning shadow conspiracy striving to obfuscate the INHUMAN acts committed by a coven of blood-sucking monsters!

Many of you may remember the tragic tale of Rras presented in an earlier edition of the Amian Recorder. Owing to the reformed dragonkin's belief in the Commonwealth way of life, and to his belief in the power of the Amian Recorder to reach the thousands of readers, I, Bill Hurst, have been chosen to bear this trustworthy figurehead's cautionary tale! Trustworthy, for indeed has Rras aided the Commonwealth dutifully in service to the Ministry of Law.

Once upon a time, reader - nearly one millenium ago! - there lived a fiendish man by the name of Christophe d'Morteguarde, a despotic landowning noble (to which we the good people of the Commonwealth do not gasp in surprise, but instead nod in recognition of nobility's wicked excesses) along the populous Sword Coast region of the Faerunian mainland. A historical study conducted by the Amian Recorder's knowledgeable staff uncovers the following, written some three hundred years ago by a Halruuan scholar named Thew C. Dides about the continent's heraldric lineages:

...into the rhinelands was there born a son to the d'Morteguarde family, so named for their valor in the Battle of the Stark Ridge in defending the wounded and dying soldiers of the 88th phalanx from a northern incursion. Oghmanned as Christophe and raised amidst scheming rumors of bastardry, Christophe d'Morteguarde became known all out the rhine for a cunning cruelty, and posthumous stories circulated implicating him in torture, non-medicinal blood-letting, diablerie, sodomy, human sacrifice, tax evasion, and a litany of heresies - some proven true, some never prove a'tall.

Our half-dragon local hero, Rras, reports that Count Morteguarde, after these many years, has indeed risen from the grave as a VAMPIRE! and has, in the many years since his mortal death, gathered about him a coven of tragic figures, invested of the SANGUIS ETERNUM, the blood everlasting, the perverse sacrament of these most-reviled predators!

"Be wary of black stone jewelery, such as opals, or obsidians," our inside source cautions. "They are currently being used to manipulate the populous by the VAMPIRES in the command of Count Christophe d'Morteguarde and turn them into thralls, in attempt to do some dark deed."

And how does our intrepid source know of their plans? It is not for him to say, as he traverses dangerous ground in defense of the Commonwealth! But read on! For it is not with the Amian Recorder that Rras first took his story! After presenting it to both Adventuring Division Lieutenant Neveah Tarvencia and Headmaster Ulrik Valis of the Mystran Monolith, Rras has been, in a dark revelation that breaks his heart (and ours!), that those whom we may otherwise count as friends seem to be, in fact, aiding these VAMPIRES! through a crafty praxis of secrecy and deception!

"Guardswoman Lt. Nevaeh Tarvencia, in the past Six tendays, has been spending much time at the Monolith of Mystra, working hand in hand with the Headmaster at present there, Ulrik Valis," Rras explains. "During her time there, the Headmaster's child had been taken by cajoling of these dark creatures and in order to recover him, Ulrik Valis made a deal with them. He placed the soul of another being within Nevaeh Tarvencia. This caused her hair to turn white for a time. She was afflicted for some time. During this time Ulrik Valis had also issued a pact of Mutual Non-Aggression with these VAMPIRES, which he denied, but later he admitted to me of sin."

Surely, dear readers, this information should have come to us from our beloved Lieutenant! Even more certainly, it should have come to us from the Mystran Monolith, ally of the Ministry of Magic and a traditional source of knowledge and information for a populace with a need to know! And why has it not? What thread is woven amongst these disparate peoples that also weaves itself through their lips, sealing them off from forestalling the reign of terror imposed by VAMPIRES?!

"Ulrik Valis, Nevaeh Tarvencia and Vaelmith Starshower are part and parcel of a group which is puppeteering actions behind the scenes. They call themselves HARPERS, widely known for undermining governments which do not set rightly with their point of view and acting behind the scenes."

Yes, people, you heard it in the Amian Recorder first! HARPERS, alive and active on the Amian island, wriggling their way into our politics, into our governments, into our way of life, and for what purpose? Clearly not in the greater interests of the Goodly People, clearly not in the pursuit of justice and the sacrosanct, or else we would have heard tale of VAMPIRES! from them, rather than had them HIDDEN, tucked away like skeletons in a broom closet!

Nay, instead we hear these from Rras, who takes great pains to tell us that "in uncovering this I have made myself an enemy of the organization, and as a result, currently actions are being put in place using falsified word to attempt to force me into a difficult position, and my death."

"Ulrik has posted a proclamation of half-truths," Rras continues, "stating that I personally killed the people within the Mage tower, when I did not, inflaming the Knights of the Triad, and seeking them to enact an edict of Execution upon me. Nevaeh is currently mounting a campaign to attempt to see me banned from the Citystate of Cordor, abusing her position and power to keep their secret buried. During this time of great stress, in the tower, the Headmaster has dissolved the council, and basically taken in a silent coup, complete control of the organization of learning, making drastic changes within, with this power play."

Silent coups? Power plays? Buried secrets and political manipulations of true-hearted organizations such as the Knights of the Triad? Ladies and gentleman, true believers, these could only be the machinations of the infamous HARPER conspiracy!

On a desperate and personal note, neighbors and beloved friends of the Recorder, I beg you to do away with the aforementioned obsidian and blackstone baubles! Bid them begone as though blood-soaked and ill-gotten gains! Hang your doorways with garlic and cross your windows with the red bands of Ilmater! Do not walk the streets at night, that nocturnal hour when the VAMPIRES of Count Morteguarde who plague us most desire to feed upon us!

And be ever vigilant against those who would propose to care about our welfare, and yet conduct necromantic rites and make peaceable arrangements with VAMPIRES!

What is to become of our beautiful Commonwealth, Gem of the Trackless Sea, and by and large the whole of this wonderful island we call home? We shall never be pulsing fodder for the VAMPIREKIND! Take up your stakes of fortified wood, brave adventurers! Venture forth from our cities and prove your valor to the common man!

PLUNGE THE NAIL OF THE COMMONWEALTH DEEP INTO THE HEARTS OF THESE SAVAGE NOBLES TOO COWARDLY TO DIE!

For the next few days, Jaocim can be seen taking some squires and sparring with them in a private room in the Temple. The only time he stops are for food and rest. Only the more skilled of the squires stay with him, some leave the room bruised and sweaty.

//OOC: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yLuOl36v ... re=related

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Oh, whoops! Oh! I dropped my monster condom that I use for my magnum dong.

A still recovering Vaelmith reads one of the pages of this particular edition of the Clarion, quirking his brow.

~... What the hell? ~ he asked himself, confused and laying back with a sigh.

---

Tuomas, in the meanwhile decides after reading this to curiously ask of another person on his next tour of the Census Bureau, likely amongst other questions

"Erm.. what exactly is a Harper?"

// On the ferry waiting to roll out of Newfoundland now and I have a couple of minutes so I'm tossing this one out.

As dawn breaks over the besieged Mystran tower, and news of the latest edition of the Recorder reaches the beleaguered inhabitants, the first of what is an official response is issued.

"The Mystran Monolith has never, not once, had a pact of non-aggression with the Count d'Mortegaurde and his coven. The Monolith has not once turned blind eye to known actions of the vampire coven. The Mystran Monolith has been at war with the Count Cristophe Artemis d'Mortegaurde ever since the coven's raid on the city of Kohlingen, the dawn after the fall of the Banite fortress. The Monolith has been at war at the time of Lieutenant Nevaeh's possession - which has been exorcised by mine own magic - and in fact had been the target of vampire attack during that time. In that time, and in times subsequent and prior, those of the tower have struggled against the Vampires of d'Mortegaurde. We have endured attack, horrors, and massacre in a bid against our mutual enemy - and still remain firmly set against those who would bring Tyranny undying.

It is true that my own son was taken, due to the mental manipulations and compulsions of these creatures. Targeted because of my actions against the coven. First, I was captured from my own office whilst in a meeting with Lieutenant Nevaeh. We managed to escape their clutches, and in the process, managed to rescue a half dozen or so innocent children from a cruel fate. The vampire's attack on the city of Kohlingen was retribution for this act. In response, the wizards of the tower joined with our long-time allies, the Knights of the Triad, in a raid upon the coven's dungeons. This raid was successful in rescuing dozens and upon dozens of innocent folks, taken from both Kohlingen and other cities and villages, such as Bendir Dale, Wharftown and Uhm who would have suffered a cruel fate. It was because of this, that my son was targeted. As revenge and retribution. Were it not for Lieutenant Nevaeh, he would have been lost to me.

It is nothing more than an affront to accuse those who have struggled tirelessly against this Undying foe of signing a pact of non-aggression. It is also illogical, considering the attacks suffered by the tower in the time this supposed pact was in effect. These are nothing more than rumors, gossip and lies. The only purpose they serve is to divide those who would stand against the Count and his coven. To steal the Heart and Resolve of those who have stood against this foe. Unfortunately, these rumors would have been dispelled by the light of Illumination and knowledge if those of the tower, or our friends and allies whom have stood with us would have been consulted.

However, the Monolith of Mystra remains steadfast, and with the ready aid of our allies and friends, we have remained ever-so. A coalition has formed, and the Count's end draws near. It is with desperation that these final stones of doubt are cast, in the hopes that the growing coalition set against the Vampires will falter and break before they can again assail the lair of our mutual Undying enemy.

Mystra's Light, Azuth's Guidance, and Savras' Sight in these dark days.

`Ulrik Valis, Headmaster
Mystra's Monolith, Ruathym"

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Playing:
Marcus Valis

Xaviera, perusing a copy of the Recorder in her office in the Temple of Love, gasps as she reads the headline article. Incredulous, she finishes the page, then crumples the paper in her hands and flings it angrily into the fireplace. "I must speak with Nevaeh..." she mutters to herself, through clenched teeth.

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~Sharess on AmiaWiki~
Priestess, politician, prostitute
"[They] were moving in on me like Sharessans on a new broad in the bath house" - Tracer Bolt
AmiaWiki mod (mostly inactive)

_________________

"The world takes and takes, even things that aren't offered. Finally, it gave us something back; I wish he was here to share it with me."

_________________
Sir Taelar Ardelyn of Wiltun
Winner of the Razor Tongued Award 2015!

Kira "Penny" Sigers
Better than Boulderdash!

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"The world takes and takes, even things that aren't offered. Finally, it gave us something back; I wish he was here to share it with me."

The Amian Recorder's office on Little Bridge Lane sees a tumult of activity on the day of the publication. Merchants dealing in paper products and ink for the press are beset suddenly by emergency orders, and it seems the editor of the proliferation has more than enough expendable income to cover the bulk orders. Likewise, concerned citizens gather outside the office - out-of-work laborers, government clerks on their lunch breaks, off-duty guard personnel, adventurers - all clamoring for what the town criers are saying is a special follow-up edition.

Bill Hurst himself bursts out of the doors shortly after lunch, throwing up his arms and declaring with a showman's gusto that a rapid-fire special edition! is finally complete and that each one can be sold at the door for one gold and five silver. The price markup doesn't seem to concern the news-eager people, who literally throw money at the Amian Recorder staff to have their first peek at the prompt follow-up.

It contains a press release first from Ulrik Valis and a subsequent one by Lieutenant Neveah Tarvencia, and amazingly, another dramatic report from the erstwhile Rras, with the following format:




No doubt you have all had mixed feelings amidst the trepidation caused by the unseemly revelation of HARPER conspiracies and VAMPIRE menaces! The knowledge that both of these subversive elements may be operating clandestinely IN OUR OWN NEIGHBORHOODS is enough to cause even I, Bill Hurst, Editor-in-Chief of the Amian Recorder, dire consternation and no small amount of indigestion! And yet I have set aside my morning breaking of the fast and my normal business lunch hour to rapidly release to you, the people with a need to know the news, the unfolding story of backbiting, villainy, and madness that consumes us in a metaphorical sense even as the VAMPIRES! descend to do so in a very literal sense!

The following special release contains formal press releases by the Headmaster of the Mystran Monolith, Ulrik Valis, and the Lieutenant of Adventuring Division, Neveah Tarvencia, each accused by the dragonkin Rras of consorting with VAMPIRES! led by the ne'er-do-well noble scoundrel Count d'Morteguarde - and accused, likewise, of being anti-government radicals belonging to the secret HARPER society!

Come and read their defenses and their accusations of Rras, our interepid inside source! And read, too, his newly printed, never-before-heard deeper revelation and analysis of the VAMPIRE NOBLE-HARPER REBEL plot against the Commonwealth and the people of Amia!

Reprinted here is Ulrik's press release.

Reprinted here is Neveah's press release.

And printed for the first time, here, a follow-up from Rras:

"I ask you send a request to the Ministry of magic, and have private large buildings converted into stores for the populous. I ask that you import as many priests as possible, to these structures. We must create bastions for the safety of the populous in order to go to in case of vampiric attack. These buildings should be shored up magically, and Hallowed by divine protections from evil. Barrels of food, and tinned and jarred foods prepared within. Evil is coming, and the Grey Lady must guard her wards! We have not tendays, or weeks. I would request an emergency council session, and the watch be placed on highest standby alert.

Secondly, I would have the ministry of magic send a diviner, as well as delta scouts, and a paladin to inspect the personages of each council member for their safety before entering this council session, a safety check. The Count's dark Coven personally is targeting the Council for corruption. Discern evil and discern magic. If such items are found, Disjunctioning the offending relic and removing curse from the afflicted will free them. Let it be known less than one ten-day ago one of the Count's Coven, known as Asher, recently attacked several guardsmen in the city, leaving only the bardess Cerridwyn, alive. She lives within the Triumvir, and can be reached by activating the magical painting of this place within the Theater in Central Cordor. She was under pain of death laden with a most corrupted necklace in which she was instructed to deliver to one of the Ministers. She was recently found in the possession of it and it was destroyed, it had begun to overtake her mind, much in the same way they have acted before on other beings.

Nevaeh Tarvencia was known to be targeted by these vampires for the simple fact that the soul placed within her was none other than the former wife-to-be of Christophe d'Morteguarde himself, Iucia. A noblewoman which he had taken interest in. The reason she and the tower, have been continually targeted, including both in Cordor and other places where they have been, placing the public safety at risk is that she possesses the Afouled Blade of Christophe d'Morteguarde himself, by which this soul of his idol was housed. He is preoccupied with it, fixated, like a man possessed upon this woman. Like a red dragon whom was thieved from, no end of the agony that will be visited upon the isles and those connected with this blade are dealt with, and it is returned. They hold this tool, and the container of his object of affection ransom. It is in fact a blade of massive which has the power to end the leader of the Dark Coven, but to my knowledge this can only be done by one of the Coven. Which would have the side effect of ruining his influence over them, causing a civil war within this Dark Ranks, and their combined forces to flounder and fail as they rip each other apart.

The undead Noble wishes his wife, this blade returned at all cost lest one of his underlings find hold of it, it would ruin his rule. The blade is a corrupt thing, and should never be handled by a decent being lest the soul of he who does be forever scarred. It is only through the actions of repeated failure, keeping the fact this Count has been about buried this long, not sharing the whole truth with the Temple of Kelemvor, sworn enemies of Undeath, and those specifically trained in the combat of these dark beings. Constant secrets, cloak and dagger by these Magi, and this Guardswoman... I personally had to act as a liason to even to convince the Mages that the Eternal Order of Kelemvor to attempt to -aid- the tower.

So much communication, constant. Between the rigors of the vampires intents upon myself, and what I have had to do for the forces of light..I do not know how I have not died from exhaustion. It has been a fight, tooth and claw that I have had to pursue, alone. I can only believe my faith, and my ascetic training had something to do this. I ask that you listen with your heart, and not those of greater influence than I who is held in low in esteem due to my heritage, the best I can to counter in this. I've had to fight, put myself in jeopardy to the sanctity of my own soul, and the threat of complete eradication of my own betrothed's soul, by these vile creatures.

Right now, what -should be done- is working completely with the light of the combined might of ALL bastions of order and right upon this isle. The threat of this menace buried this long.. because of back-door whisperings, and manipulations, and political wranglings of past and present. I would demand for the safety of all good races on this isle, though I have never been blessed a citizen of the Commonwealth, a war conference be held and action decided amongst Cordor, Winya, Kohligen. Now is the time to join together, there will be time for blame later.

My wife's soul may be destroyed for saying these truths by the Dark Count, but, she would gladly give her soul, for this. This I know. A selfish and vile beast would I be, would I remain silent, to save her. I'm worried for time. Worried that because of these secrets they will fail again. I myself have been targeted by this vampire as you well know, and even though I am quite strong, the mental influence of these creatures is truly staggering. I know not what curses they have done to me or others, or even if by writing this if they won't destroy me as well. This beast's Dark Coven has such magical powers that they have defeated even a Chosen of the Goddess of Magic, Mystra, Ankorathe, and affouled Silver Fire Artifacts, turning the very tools crafted by Mystra's own magic for their own weapons! These tools once intended to undo him. The tower never speaks the full truth. It is not the time for 'Mysteries' it is the time for Truth!, even last eve an envoy of the tower, a close friend, I did try to implore for information refused to speak to me, saying an oath binds him from doing so. Know not all within the tower are to blame. Do not blame them all! There are those who are of good measure. Ones who I hold in esteem. I believe this blade which Nevaeh possesses may well be the great sword which was created for the sole purpose of destroying this vampire long ago, having been corrupted. But again, I have been thwarted by deals in darkened libraries, and meeting rooms. It is a time that all cards should be laid on the table, none will speak with me.

I ask this to the people, why during the attack upon this evil bastion had not the Law Knights, and Sir Markus Dorne been consulted? The high priests of the Temple of the Triad brought and martialed? The Wizards of Cordor's Ministry and Winya Ravana involved? The Eternal Order of Kelemvor not made known of the attack upon the very bastion of this Dark Count. Time and time again, some have been welcome only when might is needed, risking our blood to save the innocents.. shunned when it is inconvenient and information must be kept 'private.' I say this now. Now is the time for sharing information. Let the Light of DAY be spread upon us and enlighten all.

Is this not a threat and menace to every man, woman, child upon the isle? Why have not public safety announcements been given till this time by me instead of an informed Guardswoman who is suppose to keep you safe? When the very head of the adventure guard knew so much? Privy to so much? I hope it is not too late.. I have been cajoled and abused by these beasts, and they have done great pains unto my body and soul, while I have fought to gain this information because people refused to work with me. I have endured untold scars within which fractured my very being, tortured the likes one may think were the combined pain of the Nine Hells themselves... I will hold true to the same promise that I in proclamation delivered to this Headmaster. "I walk in the Darkness so that those in the light need never be tainted by it." For I know evil, I know better than most the fight against evil in oneself, being a being of mixed blood, I know the horrors it is capable of.

Know that a Dark Storm approaches. It has been known for some days. It is aimed for the North portions of the Isle to the best of my knowledge. It is a mass of Evil proportions, from what I have spoken and heard from others... It is well past the time to prepare to save the city of Cordor, no the Isle itself, if not the very world from this threat. If I believe what it is to be true it is a giant mass of vampiric energy! Though I know not for certain, it may even be a mass of vampires themselves. It is not yet known where exactly it will land, but it does threaten to clip the northern section of the Isles where both the Triadic City of Kohligen, and Mystran Monument reside. Do not forget the last time a storm was conjured by great evil, the trials and tribulations, the agony that the city of Cordor faced during the war of the Hoard! Never again should the people of this isle have to face such atrocity.

I would ask that you listen to this document itself published this day by...Ulrik Valis, this headmaster's claim of innocence is unfounded. It is but more obsfucation, in a time when all should be clear. Why would a vampire coven willingly give up his child, a powerful bargaining tool indeed, if he would not have done something for them? I ask you this, I am not a wizard, I am not that smart, but it does not require a wizards great mind to understand something had to be bartered. I know such a situation could not be easy. And I do not judge him, for it is against my faith to do so. It is not the time for judgments, I have only my honor, wisdom, and the past deeds to prove my good intentions have been only for the best outcome for as many who can be saved and to end this Dark Count. Even if it means giving up the dearest thing I hold in this world...forever, the loss of one does not outweigh the loss of countless ones on the Balance of sacrifice. I may be a fighter, an 'adventurer' but I have always seen it as my duty to protect the beings over the isle which I view as my home, my territory. Perhaps it is part of my blood, I have always seen the people of this isle as wards, and I a steward to keep these protected, and well polished like a gem. It is well known how strong the instincts of red dragon blood is for fiercely defending what they view as within their care, perhaps this is some sort of.. mixture of this. I... I know not. I just know what I have to do. I know that I have been ordained in this task for a reason, such is the vision I was given, such is the dogma of my faith. I must not let the status quo remain, it must be dashed upon the rocks, so that the truth inside can be seen and this can be ended. Sometimes the rust must be struck before it rots the rest of a metal, and something new welded in its place. So too must we weld together.

Let not inaction, and negligence ruin the Great Grey Lady, nor the Lush Winya Ravana, or crash down upon the Keep of Kohligen. The time for action, is now. The time for doing is now. I know I am not a good man, nor a nice man. Nor a saintly man of virtue, but I have my honor. I do what I have to do. If this invokes the ire of those who would side opposite me, so be it. Know that I will keep to my dying breath the word that I have given."



In South Cordor, buildings are rented out shortly after the release of the special edition. In parts of Uhm, Bendir Dale, and even Kohlingen, like-minded and wannabe adventurers, some claiming to be "concerned citizens", some claiming to be heroes, some claiming to be expert vampire hunters and slayers, congregate in a fervor generated by the mortal fear of being exsanguinated and befouled. A cacophany of voices from inside these buildings, or at these meetings, can be heard.

"We ain't gonna let no gods-damned leeches take over this island!"

"But what're we gonna do about them? Vampires are unkillable!"

"Not so, good friend, not so, for I have travelled as far as the Holy City of Kohlingen and learned their the secrets of vampire-slaying!"

"Oh, do tell!"

"Invariably, it is true that a vampire may be slain with a stake through the heart. The purity of natural wood is anathema to the corruption of his once mortal flesh!"

"And what else?"

"You can also cut off their heads."

"Blades! We need sharper blades!"

"Ya be needin' axes, son, good dwarven axes, ta kill a vampire. And I got aplenty fer sale! Discounted, ta slay th'bloodsuckin' menaces!"

"What about garlic?"

"Garlic bombs!"

"What's th'gnome yammin' aboot?"

"Garlic bombs, ha ha! My invention at last has legitimate application!"

"Yes. Yes, as well as staking and beheading, a forced exposure to garlic will either kill or severely incapacitate a vampire."

"Which one? Kill or incapacitate?"

"Assume incapacitate. Then kill while incapacitated."

"Ah ha, you are a wise vampire slayer! How can we tell who is a vampire and who is not?"

"Vampires are pale and have black circles beneath their eyes. They wear the mark of undeath!"

"Not so! I heard they look just like anybody else!"

"Cor, no, could it be? One of us could be a vampire?"

"No, not one of us, the sun is out."

"Yes, so long as we have sunlight, we can be safe from the vampires. Night is our enemy. It is the time of their hunt. The day belongs to us, and must be the time of our hunt! But if in the night you encounter a person of questionable origin, you must be cautious."

"How can we tell who is a vampire from looking at them?"

"Hold up a mirror! If you cannot see their reflection, they are a vampire!"

"Bid them to cross a river! If they cannot cross it, they are a vampire!"

"If they refuse to enter your home without an invitation, they are a vampire!"

"Aye! I shall use my best judgment to determine who is foul and who is not. And woe to those I deem leech - for they shall fall before the might of a true-hearted adventurer!"

"Huzzah!"

_________________
Sir Taelar Ardelyn of Wiltun
Winner of the Razor Tongued Award 2015!

Kira "Penny" Sigers
Better than Boulderdash!

Cerri picks up two copies of the special edition after a read. One for herself, and one to send off to her mother.

"No such thing as bad press."

She tells everyone who asks she feels alright, so far. She is now more commonly seen in the company of others as opposed to on her own, shortening her walks in the forest. Her body language laced with subtle paranoia.

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We are all here on earth to help others; what on earth the others are here for I don't know.

*Malandria answers Ulrik's letter and invitation positively before she begins her usual patrol routes. For the forest beeing peaceful this day, she extends her patrol, also having a look at the Bramble Woods and the farmlands of Cordor. While close to Cordor already, she decides to pay a quick visit to the city itself.

Two large felines meanwhile wait outside of the gates of Cordor, eyeing the passing bye people suspiciously. During her brief visit to the city, Malandria frowns upon the two latest issues of the Amian Recorder. She purchases one of each sample and heads back to the gates with a worried expression.

As she steps out of the gates, the two large cats immediately arise and accompany her, flanking her. With one cat on each of her sides she makes her way back to the forest.*

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Dominik woke up in bed and checked his surroundings. Zellani lay sprawled like an overlarge cat burrowed over the blankets he'd loaned her for the night. Yeth was quietly snoring atop his pseudodragon sized horde of copper.

He reached out with his will and his art, all the wardings surrounding he place were still intact. He allowed himself to relax a little.

The mages mind wanderd back to earlier in the night. Dinner at the tower. A few hours respite allowing friendships to blossom, a star contrast from the preceeding nights. His mind lingered on the new addition, the mute Alya. Even for one not able to speak, she was a capable sorceror and she seemed rather warm hearted. He looked forward to getting to know her and seeing how she prospered here. His mind shifted to Marister for the first time in a while seeming himself again. Dominik smiled in his bunk thinking of where the moustached mage's night probably led him. To Zellania, the enigmatic copper-kin who had all but bound herself to him. There were questions there... so many... but he was glad for her company.

Then there was Bruce. Dominik lay there for quite some time and could not properly come up with the words for the Veneficus. Mentor, friend, they didn't seem to be encompasing enough. He'd seen the gnome shaken in the night, seen barbs work past his shell and draw actual anger forth. He paused for a moment in his thoughts cutting them off. Bruce would persist, and he would come through this allright. There was no other acceptable outcome.

Dominik looked over to where Yeth was coiled and chuckled briefly, remembering the antics earlier in the night. The mini-dragon courting the dragon kin.

Then his mind moved forward...

Dinner had ended. The guests dispersed and they traveled to meet a dragonkin in a temple. They had thought it may be a trap. The meeting was too close to the eleventh hour.

His mind jumped again, forward slightly to the telling of a story...



There were more words spoken, but the mage's mind lost them as it caught the sounds of something shifting positions near by. He stood and pulled Zellani's blankets up over her shoulders again before retiring for the night.

Morning would come early and the day would test everyone involved.

(( Sorry for the chat log but I'm too tired to properly reword that right now. also forgive me for typos, gramatical errors, or stuff just not making sense... I'm about to fall asleep. ))

(( Edit: The story is a heavily paraphrased version of one of Peter Straub's short stories ))

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No further replies to the sensationalist Recorder! articles are issued from the Mystran Monolith. However, quietly, the following are sent out. Written on small pieces of papyrus which seem sized to fit perfectly, and no more, the information contained therein, are sent to those receiving a prior request to meet. Specifically: The Triadic Knights, The Dawnguard, The Eternal Order. Individuals, as well: Malandria. Willow Maynare. Theos Gend. Jud'vardas.

They are, as well, sent to the following places. What is done with them, from there, is well out of the sender's hands: The Temple of the Triad, in Kohlingen. The Temple of Waukeen, in Cordor. The Temple of Selune, in Wharftown. Bendir Dale. Uhm. Winya Ravana. Fortress Wiltun.

Additionally, this is made available to any joining the force against the Count from the Monolith.

Each bears a simple, nondescript symbol of Mystra in the bottom right corner.

No further copies are sent, those lost are not replaced.

Destruction of a Vampire Lord

Unlike most vampires, whom once felled turn to ash and are thus destroyed, vampire lords are much more resilient and require a particular ritual to be performed to destroy them. And even then, they must be handled in a particular manner or they may again regenerate. The coven of Count Mortegaurde has five vampire lords left, following the destruction of Atticus. These are Emmanuelle, Asher, Callahan, Shoshanna, and the Count himself.

Once a vampire lord has been felled, it will turn to gas and retreat to its coffin. At this point, the following must be done: It must be decapitated. Holy wafers must be thrust in its mouth and throat. Then body and head must be cremated, burned with magical or mundane flame. First, however, ensure the body and head are separate! Once burned, the ashes must be completely doused with holy water. This will result in two types of ash, which must be kept apart. The head will produce dark, grainy, and a more vile ash. The ash of the body will be lighter in color. The ashes of the head must be interred upon holy ground immediately - consult a cleric before you go any further in this. The ashes of the body must then be spread in fast, running water. Those of a waterfall or river are ideal.

Failure to perform this ritual exactly, and properly, will result in the defeat of the vampire lord being in vain.

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Playing:
Marcus Valis

Somewhere deep in the Amian wood, a half-red dragon paced like a caged predator.
Occasional clutch at his skull, the odd maddened snarl, as something raged within him.
Something had set him off, and for the time that night, he did not calm.

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Dwagin [Duh-wa-GIN] N. - 1a. Small and cute thingum, particularly fond of four legged scaled creatures of the metalic and chromatic varieties.

-Extraordinarily ordinary in the mostest of ways.

The Lady Emma Vaugn would wait for her Uncle to come to breakfast, and she would also wait until he had at least half of it down, knowing full well that the man was more pleasant on a full stomach, as most men seemed to be in her experience.

She would have waited on him, been polite and demure, helped her younger cousins with their meals, and asked about her Aunt, letting him know she would be in to see how she fares for herself once breakfast has ended.

The children would have gone on with their tutors, and she would sit quietly, sipping some tea.

"So you seem pert this morning," her Uncle says. "Something on your mind?" His voice was direct, as usual, but there was a twinkle in his that indicated his amusement in his niece.

She makes a slight face--caught. "You know me so well, Uncle." She would smile though and sip her tea.

"Let's have it out then; what is it?"

She takes a deep breath as if willing herself to her question. "I was hoping I might be of some assistance in this next attack upon the vampires."

He'd take a drink of his own tea and watch her, his brows raised. "Haven't you already helped by finding the location of the lair?"

"Yes, but, I hoped I might be able to help more directly. And again."

"More directly," he says slowly. "What can you mean?" though his expression indicates he likely knows.

"I want to go along with them-- help them as I may."

Her uncle frowns and sets his tea down. It is not a good sign.

"I cannot allow you to go into such danger, Emma. Your father bid me watch out for you, and I daresay allowing you to traipse into the midst of a vampire coven's lair was not what he had in mind, hm?" His voice is full of irony, but she recognizes the steel expression, her heart sinking a bit.

"So many of my friends and --loved ones-- will be there. I simply wish to help."

"Your bravery is commendable, my girl, but answer me this." He points a finger for emphasis. "Your Mister Malcom-- would he not be distracted from doing all he is able if you are there and he is constantly trying to make sure you are all right, unhurt, unaffected by the horrors you will most certainly see, unaffected in your mind from their trickery and foul magics? How can he show his skill if he is constantly minding you?" He sips his tea, watching her face for the impact of his words.

Her face falls at these words, and her Uncle looks into his tea, relieved.

"You are right, Uncle Gregor," she says with resignation in her voice.

"I often am, you'll find," he says, though he has amusement in his tone. "Oh, Emma, you're a good heart-- it does you credit. The fact that you wish to go-- that you're even willing to-- speaks very highly for you. You'll find other ways to help, I daresay. Help with the wounded afterwards, tend to your prayers during. I don't know--" he stops and thinks it over. "I'm sure with your magics you can even say some very useful prayers and spells for them, but then send them on their way. It's no place for a lady."

An ember blazes in her green eyes at this last word, but she drinks her tea. "I think I shall go to the Monolith today then and see if I may help them in their preparations."

He'd take another careful look at her. "Something to do with this?" He'd slide the latest copies of the Amian Recorder over to her from where he'd been reading them earlier, hidden on his other side.

Her eyes flicker down to it, and she colors. "The half-red is unstable, and his version of the story is so distorted and false that I was angry to read it."

"You know this . . . 'Rras' person?" His brows raise.

"He is known to me from my time spent at the Monolith," she would nod.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Uncle!" she would protest. "I wish you would stop reading my face! He is a difficult personage, and he paid me some attention-- I have successfully staved him off." Here, to her great consternation, her Uncle laughs. Her expression seems frustrated, yet bewildered. "It is hardly a laughing matter, Uncle."

"Oh, Emma--" here he wipes his eyes. "I"m not laughing at that-- well, I might be just a bit, but it's more to the point-- my dear, if you wish for people to stop reading your face, then stop wearing your feelings as openly as the pages of a library book." She colors and looks full of consternation at this decry. "Oh, girl," here he finally stops laughing and even wipes under an eye. "Bah, it does you credit. It does your honesty credit. At least everyone knows your honest opinion and feelings; it shows modesty too. Do not worry so, Emma. You get that from your mother, you know, gods rest her soul. Dougie was never a worrier."

"It may have more to do with being a woman than being so like my mother."

"I didn't mean it in any insulting way-- to yourself, or to your mother. We all miss her too."

"Of course, Uncle," she looks at her hands, folding them in her lap.

"Go to the Monolith then-- help them with whatever preparations they need made, then come back here and light whatever candles and say whatever prayers. There's no lair of vampires that MY niece is marching herself into, good heart or not." He sets his napkin on the table and stands.

"I understand," she says simply, though her green eyes still blaze.

"Good," he says, and pats her on the shoulder as he leaves the room.

She lingers for a bit in the chair, glaring at her plate. Then she rises and hurries to get her traveling clothes and cloak on. "Sarah?" she calls out to her maidservant, as she hurries up the stairs. "Help me get ready to leave? And yourself, dear, you're coming with me to the Monolith."

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The dark storm makes landfall on Amia. Across the entire island, black clouds let forth crimson rain.

Today is the day of the wounded sky.

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Those trees won't burn themselves down. (by Maryn)

As word of the press release exposing the Harper conspiracy eventually reaches the backwater forests around Uhm a Man in a Black overcoat rests his face on the pile of reports covering his soggy make-shift desk and begins laughing hysterically. After a few minutes of this he wipes a a tear of mirth from his eye and returns to his work.

"welcome to the real resistance "

*Kohlingen or the Triadic Knights did not seem to react the Cordorian propaganda, obviously they did not lift the banishment on Rras.*
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*A certain First Knight and Grandmaster, after contacting with a certain Headmaster, is sending out missives to certain groups and individuals: .

My Friends and Allies,

It is time to assemble again and end the vampire threat once and for all. I invite you all to the Keep of Kohlingen where we can begin to execute our plan.

May the Triad watch over you,
Lord Yaston Sylgerand

//EDIT: I presume that the time is already known, but again: Tonight 9-10PM EST/1-2am GMT/3-4am CET
Also, please do not metagame with this, this invitation id for the mentioned folks.

*Malandria stepped out of the Grove with a frown as blood began to rain from the skies. Her trusted companion Ipyana at her side she made her way through the forest. Elana joined her just before she met Theos in Bendir. They decided to spread out. Malandria and Elana were checking the Trummels, while Theos and the others ran into two vampires by the Dale. They were already set back to rest by the time Belladonna informed Malandria and Elana of their attack.

Long patrols followed... throught he trummels, the whole forest, the Dale, Greenlake, Nexus Falls, Arachnid Valley and even the Outskirts of Cordor and the Monolith but no more vampires were to be found.

After re-meeting Theos in the Mylock Hills, Malandria suggested they should instead do something against this unnatural storm and rain. As Theos agreed, they spread out one more time to gather as many druids as possible for this ritual. When they finally arrived at the great duir, Malandria had brought Elana, Barris and Belle along and they joined Theos and Mark who were already awaiting them.

The druids began their ritual while the others guarded them in case the vampires would make their way to them. Their united prayers managed to awake the powers of the duir and Malandria took the lead in the ritual to channel the powers of their prayers and the powers of the duir skywards to purge the unnatural storm.

Those in the forest would see the eye of the dark storm spread further and the sky over the north and western parts of the forest began to clear up.

Placing her staff back on the ground, Malandria then let the ritual end and turned to Theos. "Attempting another ritual to push back the storm back even further would strain the duir too much. It would leave it too vulnerable. We have to make another attempt at a later time, once the druir regenerated it's strength."

With Theos agreeing, they all offered their prayers to the duir to give it back some of it's strength and decided to meet again at a later point. While Theos was heading on another patrol, Malandria decided to take her time and talk to some of her students.*

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