A perfectly quiet and uneventful cycle was ruined today by a newcomer into the Dark corners of Edonil!

This said newcomer comes across as quite peculiar to those who witness and take notice at all in his weather-beaten leather coat. Strangest of all is the porcelain mask that covers around his eyes, which serves only to draw attention to the facial expressions he makes.

Although not a member, this said stranger can be spotted perusing any public books of the Sorcere as well as the dribs and drabs of the Edonil market for reading material from the habits of the darkest and most dangerous creatures to the studies of illusion and poetry.

The stranger is polite to those he passes and respectful when necessary, but his quiet demeanour and dedication to study hints at one who observes ever more intently then what he appears to...

....just who is this male?

Only one who cared would wonder.

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"I had a plan! A good plan, carefully laid out! ...but then I got bored."

Ust'Ilharess Nizzre'tyne Tinnerai would have been seen conversing with this newcomer. Too far away for eavesdropping on the conversation for any of the commoner drow or guards and from that distance it would be hard to tell if the Ust'Ilharess was pleased or not.

They were seen by the artists of hair and skin entering the sorcere. The librarian might know a little something. But they were not seen exiting that way. Did they portal out? And where to?!

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Ari'aerath Dlues'athsha ~ Silver Singer with the Bow of the Sun
Clarette Feohn ~ Magic is Art.
Victoria Marrs ~ "I have an herb for that."

To add to more crazy rumours, the said stranger returned from such an encounter within the cycle unscathed!

Once again, he resumes his random and unorthodox studies throughout the public sectors of both the sorcere and the market (suspected to be annoying the librarian greatly in their tasks when it comes to putting such a stack of books away!)

Just what is he up to?

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"I had a plan! A good plan, carefully laid out! ...but then I got bored."

Occurances of the strange and unpredictable once more happen throughout the quiet hours of Edonil's cycles;

Familiars and pets of all shapes and sizes in the sorcere left unattended by their masters find themselves going missing for brief periods of time. Usually found within the same cycle, the familiars all appear unscathed... bar from a shaky memory of what happened and a cracking headache to boot.

Only once so far has a messenger slave of Tinnerai been targeted for such a random and brief disappearance; a human slave was found in one of Edonil's alleys with similar symptoms as the sorcere's familiars. No item of theirs was stolen however... just the splitting headache and the fuzzy memory of the ordeal.

Some speculate it is the boredom of young Zhaunins throughout the quiet cycles, others talk of much fouler involvement from mischievous shadow elves. The most outlandish story to date however is that Viz'aun, disguised as a floating chalice, is haunting the alleys of Edonil and striking the unprepared in the back of the head with his pewter handle!

As the truth of such rumours are debated within the hallways of Iniquity and the L'Obsul Tradehouse, it is undeniable that these random mishaps are harmless in the great scheme of Edonil's daily runnings... but noone can ignore that they are most strange in nature.

What is the purpose behind these mishaps?

Is there actually a purpose at all?

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"I had a plan! A good plan, carefully laid out! ...but then I got bored."

Upon hearing these rumors Yath'abban Oun'dree would take the jalukken spreading them to task and quickly send them running on errands to keep themselves busy. The jalilen she would listen to, on the other hand, but take no great import of their words save when they mention the rumors of Viz'aun...

...and the would take out a little black book and make a few notes on mostly bare pages.

This will take more looking into, some few may be able to hear her say. Whether it is of the rumors or some other matter though, none can tell.

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Lady Ravanna Iheludrim, Sun Elf Sorceress, Former Councillor of Myth Winya Ravana
Miss ~A. F.~ (Potion Brewer Extraordinaire)
Veruca Thornhill, Paladin of the Lord of the North Wind [Retired]

Ul'ath'tallar Nizzre'tyne had quietly taken her slaves to the Temple some time ago. All four have been put to work in the office area and sleeping in the jail cell, when empty of other occupants. They are very good at staying out of sight and only the human male named 52 had been sent on message delivery.

At this point it is unclear if 52 had been involved in any encounter. If so Nizzre'tyne is keeping that to herself.

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Ari'aerath Dlues'athsha ~ Silver Singer with the Bow of the Sun
Clarette Feohn ~ Magic is Art.
Victoria Marrs ~ "I have an herb for that."

Any slaves in Tinnerai black and gold found to be repeating such ridiculousness have their tongues summarily ripped out by an oddly calm il'haress, whereupon they are ordered to string the tongue and wear it around their neck, a grisly but useful warning.

The one who was taken is immediately quarantined, and his memory ripped asunder to try to determine what happened. Regardless of the outcome, he is then put to the blade, and his body dumped where the spiders cannot reach it, lest it be something catching.

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Aly'dra Zau'ana: Priestessish Of Eilistraee
Danika Nefzen: Druid of the Earthmother
Delia Am'Anodel: Paladin of Torm

The head of the Sorcere can be seen stomping by the Melee Magthere in Edonil, apparently in a foul mood.

"What exactly is dos excuse for naut giving even a peep of a warning?" Exclaimed angrily to the eyeball floating just behind him. "What?! A headache?" he sputters a moment and whirls around on the creature. He stands starring at it for a short span of heartbeats, then sighs in exasperation and grabs the floating eyeball. After several seconds of struggle it is released to float behind and the archmage resumes his angry stride toward the Sorcere.

"Go and find that apothecary in Underport for dos addled brain and return quickly". He orders shortly, "Usstan requires the services of a master tailor, since dos let that heretic puncture this fine tunic." he stops and glares at the eyeball a moment, "What is dos waiting for?!" And watches the creature float off on its errand with two of its eyestalks tied together.

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Thine taste in horrid footwear not withstanding, I did not say that thou were in fact an idiot, I merely implied that such things were self evident.

-Krrja