Campaign for group two goes here.
Dotting
Dotty... er, dotting.
In the beginning...
11 Aroden, 4714
A new day has dawned on Golarion, and scattered across Avistan six would-be heroes go about their daily lives. They are inexorably linked, their fates tied together in ways few know or understand. Unbeknownst to them, their significance has attracted the attentions of the malevolent and powerful. These poor souls do not know their enemies, but their enemies know them. And soon, these enemies will make the first move.
Raven wandered the aisles of the latest library she had encountered -- the latest public one, the latest private one, it made little difference to her so long as no one tried to chase her out before she was finished. Cool, black eyes scan gilded titles on spines; slender, tattooed fingers take down volumes for the growing stack on the library's table. And then... studying. The quiet rustle of parchment and paper as pages are turned, the scratching of Raven's pen as she takes notes in her journal, her mind sorting information and comparing it to her existant knowledge.
It was oddly sunny today. Not a cloud in the sky to be seen. Nobody would give this a second thought if they were anywhere else on Golarion, but in the haunted nation of Ustalav, such a day is as rare as Sarenrae's kindness. The white-haired, black-garbed woman understood this all too well as she kept her eyes on the road to Lepidstadt.
Caliphas was long behind her, with the city of Lepidstadt looming on the horizon. She had to move faster--the University of Lepidstadt's books could hold the key to destroying her sire once and for all. She ignores the superstitious glances and glares of the townsfolk in the streets, trusting in the holy symbol of Pharasma around her neck to give them reason enough to leave her be.
The university itself is a well-tended, multi-story building, with gargoyles perched atop the gate leading onto the building's grounds. She presses onward, intent on getting the answers she seeks, with or without help.
Aveline... Mother, you will rest easy soon. Crystal Delphi steps up to the doors of the university, opens them and steps inside...
Hector walked the alley ways and poorer districts of Korvosa, as he did every morning. Often, he was the only person seen with a skip in his step.
"Morning, Madame Mary. Lovely day! Hey, Master Jim! How's the leg treating ya today?" says Hector tossing a silver each to the two beggars. He spends the morning running errands for the elderly and helping some of the others down on their luck.
“Much better than one can expect in a settlement like this, don’t you think?“ A man says in a low, warm tone.
”If you say so. I only got some stale bread! How long do you think we can keep this up?” Another, much higher voice answers.
The small guestroom above the local alehouse is dimly lit by a small candle. It illuminates a man with an elaborately braided beard, wearing a fine garb, slowly scraping the last bits of food out of a wooden bowl. He has a warm smile on his face, even though he looks weary. In front of him, a small singing bird is picking up crumbs of bread.
”You’re always so cynical, Vi. But,” he sighs heavily. ”Today you might be right. I spent our last coin. If we don’t get lucky soon, I might even have to…”
”…start selling your rings, yes. Don’t you think it is time to go home then, Ragnar? To give up on your foolishness?”
”Oh don’t start with that again. If you would be more forthcoming with the information I need...”
The conversation is cut short by a loud knock on the door. With two quick hops, Vi is back inside her cage. Ragnar closes its door carefully with one hand, while cleaning his mouth with a handkerchief with the other. He pulls his vest straight and clears his throat.
”You may come in.”
"Let the healing light of the sun burn out the darkness within you. Let your inner light be a guide for others, and a searing flame against
unrepentant evil."
The elderly man looked each of the six attendees in the eye to press home his prayer before finishing.
"Go with Sarenrae and be at peace."
He allowed the woodsman to help him to his feet with gratitude. His bones cracked as he straightened himself, echoing loudly in the clearing that offered a bucolic setting for the early morning prayer.
"I thank you for your hospitality, friends, and wish you well until the Dawnflower again sees fit to send me to your corner of the world."
Making his farewells, Juid lan Déguîs packed up his few belongings and set off on foot toward the border of the River Kingdoms, wondering at the grace of his goddess that she has deemed him fit enough to continue her good works.
"Riverton."
The single word surprised Czein as he heard it slip from his own mouth. It was the first time he had spoken Common tongue, or any tongue, in months. Two years of living in the wilderness. Two years of shame, darkness, and solitude. Nearly a month ago the dream had convinced him that it was time to seek redemtion with Gorom, and this is where the dark Half-Orc found himself.
He looked at the city, full of men and all manner of other beings and shuddered. Czein still felt like he was covered in blood, even two years out, he felt he could never wash his hands of it and that any other creature could see it in his face.
"For Gorom" He whispered to himself as he pulled his hood up and walked toward the town with naught but a vague vision and a hope to go on.
As you continue flipping through, you hear footfalls behind you.
"Excuse me. Are you Raven Six?"
The contact you have is Professor Monsigne, who not only is an expert on vampires, but also on the curse that you yourself carry. You make your way into his office. However, you are somewhat surprised to see a white-haired halfling sitting in his chair, dressed in purples robes.
"Good, you're here."
The beggar, Nasty Tom, catches the silver, his broken, yellow-toothed smile showing dully in the alley.
"Thanks Hector! I know just the prostitute!"
The other beggar, who appears to be wearing a veil and a heavily-patched old wedding dress, holds up a hand. She turns her head slowly to the side, as if confused. The silver hangs in the air, floating in front of her hand.
"Quigley..." she breathes. Her accent is bizarre and her voice low, and raspy.
Vi's immediate worry radiates out to you, but you open the door nonetheless. A broad, dwarven woman looks up at you. Her hair, a distinct shade of red, is elegantly done up, pinned with a diamond hairpin. She is dressed in finery, jewels, and wears far more makeup than you've ever even heard of on a dwarf. Her presence is commanding, if off-putting. She carries a scroll and looks over you carefully.
"Mister Ragnar Djorinson?", she asks in heavily-accented common.
Pîsim lets out a HAW, the irritable creature probably looking for someone to bite, but he nonetheless follows you faithfully on down the road. The trail you are on takes you through a wooded area, an unfortunate place to be due to the likelihood of bandit attack. Your worst fears are soon realised. Ahead of you is a tree fallen across the path, and a scruffy-looking man with a javelin in his hand.
"Stand and deliver!"
Our Lord in Iron is with you, and Gorum's power and might gives you strength as you walk towards your first attempts to reconnect with civilization after your self-imposed exile. The guilt and enormity of your crimes still weighs heavily, but the woods and dangerous and you are certain you have greater things to do.
As you approach Riverton, you pass by a large tree. A voice suddenly calls out to you.
"Wait wait, you're Czein? THE Czein? Oh this is great news, I thought my information was wrong!"
Looking up, you see a tiefling dressed in black. He grins a wide grin at you as he hangs from a tree branch, almost like a monkey.
Raven looks up from her tome and turns around to see who is talking to her, one hand slipping casually into her vest pocket.
"That is, indeed, my name," she says, her eyes widening as she stares at whoever sought her out -- not in surprise, but to stare as if eager for every single detail.
The appearance of the scruffy man initially prompts Juid to stop abruptly and control Pîsim from running. The lessons of Sarenrae fresh in his mind, he seeks first to understand and then to be understood.
The appearance of the scruffy man initially prompts Juid to stop abruptly and control Pîsim from running. The lessons of Sarenrae fresh in his mind, he seeks first to understand and then to be understood.
"There is no need for aggression to eat this day, my fellow. As you can see, I am but a humble way-priest, without the riches of a temple at my beck and call. But if you will, share my afternoon repast with me and tell me of these woods, and we may both part the richer for our encounter."
Ragnar’s expression is a bit puzzled, but he only needs a brief moment to compose himself.
”Well, yes. I’m honoured to make your acquaintance Miss…?”
One would think a dwarven woman like her would be the talk of town, but no one mentioned her, Ragnar thinks. So she must either have just arrived or is a very regular visitor. Let’s hope she didn’t hear Vi talk. It’d be a shame to ruin my disguise as an ordinary tradesman.
Crystal arches an eyebrow and fixes her hat before approaching the professor and the robed halfling.
"...were you expecting me?" She asks, somewhat skeptical and wary. She thought she was keeping a lower profile than this...
"Yes? I am not sure if we've met yet. Yes, I am Quigley, Hector Quigley. Is there something that I may help you with my dear?"
Czein's hand strays to the Double axe on his back as he asks, "Who wants to know?" His eyes remain wary, perhaps even shifty as he tries to make sense of the situation.
A woman dressed in simple brown leather with strange tattoos over her face stands behind you. She speaks in a whispery purr.
"It's astonishing to see you in the flesh. Or... well, whatever it is you are. Please, speak with me a moment before we begin."
She moves to sit across from you.
"I am Ysania. This is a great day and you will be a part of all of it. But please, enlighten me. Why do you exist, Raven? We have many answers, but not that one."
He has the air of one supremely confident. He toys with a scroll in his hands and although his body language is not aggressive or menacing, he is watching you intently, as if expecting resistance.
"Yes, quite. The scrying gets complicated in the University and so I thought I would just ensure the Professor was decomposed so I co-- oh my!" The old halfling lets out a raspy giggle. "What a slip. Indisposed. I always confuse the two. No, the latter will take a few weeks. Please, sit. I'd like to speak with you before we get started."
You hear a hissing kind of laughter. "Help me? Oh yes, well you'll be helping me more than you can possibly imagine." She stands up, a little unsteadily, and produces a scroll. "Walk with me my darling, we have much to discuss..."
Her accent is strange and her body language is extremely awkward. It is clear she's not quite comfortable speaking to you, but she also has an air of defensiveness about her, as if she's waiting for a fight. She remains in the doorway, unsure if she should enter or not.
"Koraga," she says simply. "We won't be in a position to interview later so I thought we could chat a bit first. What do you know about Vi? We're a little lost ourselves." Vi's immediate nervousness at her name being mentioned so casually by a stranger is palpable.
The man is clearly desperate, starving, and dangerous. However, your words seem to be calming him.
"I... I just need food and money! You.. it's not right to kill a holy man. How do I nkow you aren't trying to trick me?!" He stares at you suspiciously.
The tiefling does a neat flip and lands on the ground in front of you. He grins a little more widely than is comfortable.
"I suppose there's not much you can do at this point. Call me Daereth," as he grins his teeth show that they are sharpened into points. "My my Czein you -have- been a bad boy. Urges that you can't control or something like that hmmmm?"
Raven blinks. Inside the privacy of her home, she hears the 'Click'. She focuses on the tattoos on the woman's face, attempting to recognize and/or interpet them.
"You appear to have me at a disadvantage, Ms. Ysania," she says, her tone of voice pleasantly neutral. "Rest assured that I possess an answer as to your question, but I should like an answer to my own before I give you my answer. What is this group which 'possesses many answers', and what is the nature of this 'great day' you mention?"
Underneath the table, Raven quietly loosens her club from its loop on her belt...
The stoic expression on Crystal's face never changes, but the halfling's slip-of-the-tongue (if it really was that) puts her on edge. And what the hell did you do with the professor?
"Started on what?" She slowly advances to a seat and sits down. From her body language, she's ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. "And who are you, anyway?"
Juid's demeanor relaxes and he telegraphs his actions to the man as he slowly opens a satchel bag on Pîsim and draws out a loaf of crusty bread, a string of sausages, and a bag of dried fruit. "A wise question. Because I have something you want and you have something I want: knowledge of the area. Knowledge is power and the next person I encounter might not be as willing to exchange as you are. Come, join me. You see I'm quite unarmed, except for my powerful faith."
Juid sets himself upon a log and lays the food out on a cloth next to him. He pretends to divide the food but in fact only takes a small portion for himself and puts a large portion down for the deprived man.
"But, by the healing flame, where are my manners? My name is Juid. Won't you join me, Master ...?"
"M-m-marcus. Oh I... I'm so sorry father. I could never hurt a holy man."
As he begins to approach and set down his javelin, a voice rings out from the side of the road, in the trees.
"Oh this is getting tiresome." You hear chanting from off the road, and before your able to react..
A loud crack echoes through the air as a lightning bolt strikes Marcus. He flies backwards and lands in a blackened, burnt heap. Hysterical laughter rings out from the forest.
"Oh that... that was SPLENDID! Did you see the look on his face? Did you Juid? Ants are only fun when you step on them - am I right?"
Standing beside a tree is a young, wild-eyed man with a shock of yellow hair, around forty feet from you.
"Let's talk." He grins.
Ysania smiles and shakes her head slightly, tsking. "I'm afraid you're not in a position to negotiate, Raven. If you want I can prove exactly why that is the case, but I don't like to show off. Please, indulge me. Why do you exist?"
"I'm afraid I have to ask the questions. But my name is Sentos. And please don't run away, it is beneath our dignity. Trust me." He leans in, an edge of menace creeping into his voice. "I can run faster mad than you can scared."
He laughs raspily and leans back.
"So, question one. The vampire who created you, do you know his name?"
"No." Crystal's eyes do not leave Sentos' face. "Mother never told me."
Czein remains silent, pulling at the slipknot that held his axe in place so that it falls into his right hand.
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Ragnar’s neck muscles stiffen and every hair on his body is standing up.
How does she know? What does she know? Who are they? A million thoughts run through the witch’s head, the uncertainty making his guts twist.
”Well, she is a thrush. To be specific, a Varisian thrush. Has a beautiful voice and I like to have her around during negotiations. It makes everyone a bit easier you know?” Ragnar not-answers the question, trying to draw Koraga out. And while he does that, he stares at her. A cold, piercing stare. A stare that asks ”Do you know what you are doing here? And can you really see it through?”
Raven blinks, her eyes briefly turning glassy. Under the table, she uses her off-hand to liberate one of her pre-prepped bombs.
'To threaten, not to use. To use a bomb in this room, among these volumes, would be unforgivable.'
"To answer that question," she says out loud. "That is my conclusion."
The magnitude of the lightning bolt is enough to raise the hair on Juid's arm from several yards away. He nonsensically places himself between the wild-haired sorcerer and Pîsim, realizing that he may die in the next few seconds.
"Since you obviously have the advantage of knowing me and not the reverse, you also realize how little pleasure I would find it your act of cruelty. Identify yourself and state your purpose or leave us be. There are more of us carrying out the will of the Dawnflower than you could ever hope to intimidate with your antics."
"Pity, we weren't sure if in your search you were keeping his name to yourself or not." The halfling unfurls the little scroll in his hands and looks it over. He mouths a few words to himself before looking up and continuing. "Hrm. Well you seem cooperative, this may go smoothly after all. So, have you noticed any unusual powers or abilities? I mean, beyond the typical dhampir nonsense."
"Oh please. Do that," says the tiefling. He remains unarmed but his posture is one of menace. "I'll have done my job if I collect you. But I'll have done my job well if you answer questions first. So Czein, let's start. When you killed those people who had worked so hard to raise you, did you feel anything... different? Powerful? Strange? Like something had awakened? Or did you just have a fit of the crankies?"
The tiefling is around ten feet from you.
Koraga blinks, and shakes her head irritably. "Don't do that. I won't warn you again. The bird, Ragnar. We've been watching you for years. She can speak for herself if you so wish. I can also incapacitate you and question her, although you're who I'm here for." Despite her words, she makes no move to attack.
Ysania grips the table and leans in to you, her face just inches from yours. "Try it," she whispers. "Please. I don't have to question you, but by the time we get the others rounded up there won't be time. I have been watching you and know what you can do. I admire you, in fact. There may be comparisons, but you are a masterpiece. The power that burns within you is incredible and you're utterly unaware of it."
She remains still as she speaks.
"Perhaps I'll be more specific. What drives you? Just fitting in and trying to be a real girl? Filling your empty head with books? What is your ambition? Why were you made?"
"The entire anthill rages against me," shouts the mage sarcastically as he steps out onto the path. "Whatever shall I do. Juid, I am here to question you. We can only learn so much observing from afar, and although we recognize what you are, we do not know why. What do you know about your parents? Anything?" He advances a bit as he speaks, but is still a good thirty feet away.
"Those are two different questions, and both equally rude," Raven says as she rises, bringing her face close to Ysania's, staring right back into her eyes. With a dull clank she slams her weapons down on the table. Her expression remains the same.
"What drives me is the urge to know. To know the nature of life, and whether I am part of it. To know what transcends life, and whether I am part of that -- or can become so. My ambition is to transcend the clay -- or in my case the bioplasticene -- of creation and live. To this goal I study and seek.
I was made for the purpose of Reconnaissance and Analysis.
What is your goal? Why were you made? Do you have a purpose?"
"Only that unlike most of my ilk, I do not suffer at all in daylight. Then again, that could simply be because of Pharasma's grace." Crystal folds her arms. "If I knew of my sire's name, rest assured I'd have told you by now. I suspect he enthralled her to ensure I never learned of him." Crystal's tone is pensive, if not... remorseful?
Not that it helped, in the end...
"I'm curious, Sentos--from the sounds of things, you've gone out of your way to find me." She looks up at the halfling. "May I ask why? I'm certain there's many others of my blood you could have tracked down instead."
"You're words have the ring of madness, mage. If you have truly been observing me, then you should know that you need only have approached me for information. My life is an open book. The theatrics that cost that poor creature its life have only made me resent you."
While speaking, Juid has almost unconsciously moved away from the advancing wizard, guiding the donkey that, for once, needs little incentive to put distance between itself and the threat.
"As to your declaration, I don't know what you mean. You recognize what I am? I am a normal man, albeit gifted by my faith in Sarenrae, yet cursed by my history. My parents, to my knowledge, were common folk who perished during a freak fire that destroyed most of the village where I was born. Do you have reason to believe otherwise?" Juid prompts, with undisguised hope in his voice that the unstable newcomer might know something of the peculiar 'accident' that spared him when everyone else died.
Ragnar has enough experience as a merchant and negotiator to spot an empty threat when he hears one. This was none. The dwarf didn't even flinch. It really made a shiver run down Ragnar's spine.
"Got that, "He says, reaching over to the cage and opening it. "Vi is my mentor, a memento and sometimes even a friend. Though I know very little about her. Who are those you are referring to? And what is it you want?"
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Czein lets his axe rest on the ground, leaning on it. "Felt like I killed myself too, and they were all sellouts. Your turn, collect me for whom?"
Welp, if he knows that much, he must not've come unprepared... lets see what he's got in mind
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Ysania purses her lips as she looks over you. "You're becoming belligerent, Raven. Very interesting though. You were made to gather information. For whom?"
Sentos shows an unnervingly wide grin for a halfling and rests back.
"You are a smooth one. I am a member of a society who has taken interest in you, and others like you. Unfortunately, I have not been told why, but you are a vital piece of a process which will bring my master great power. My purpose here is to retrieve you, while I satisfy my own curiosity. However, since you don't know anything..."
Sentos smiles at Crystal and hops off of his stool.
"I'm going to cast a spell on you now."
The mage starts laughing as Juid speaks. "Normal?! You think you're normal when one such as me is here speaking to you? That we've been following you for ten cursed years? And then you call me mad?! MAD?! I'M FURIOUS!"
His eyes wild, he starts chanting aggressively, gesturing towards you.
Koraga nods seriously. "I'm not quite at liberty to disclose who I work with - and for. But my hope is that we can get some questions answered before we have to start. Although if you know little about Vi, that is disconcerting. What about your mother? Did you notice anything different or strange about her before she left?"
The tiefling bounces from foot to foot, full of a strange nervous energy. "Nonono, you don't understand me. I understand that you're all sad and grief-ridden and had to go stick berries up your nose, and frankly bore the hell out of me for a few years. But when you did it. When the evil took over... did you feel anything? Power? Magic? Might? Did you feel what's really there inside of you?"
"I'm sure you'd love to." Crystal stands up. "Before you do, a question: Do you have to?" She eyes Sentos, her hand rubbing her holy symbol. "I've been entirely cooperative with you--and something tells me that assisting you in this could perhaps prove beneficial to us both. To that end, I'd be willing to go with you, without any need for magic to be involved."
Stall him out--no idea what he wants, but I need to know--who does he serve?
"Well, now that you mention it, you know that feeling when you take a really huge crap? yeah that. Mind tellin me what you're on about?"
What has this little snot been smoking?
"I am belligerent because you are rude," Raven says, her stare unblinking, the dark depths of her eyes becoming glassy. "You ask and ask about highly personal matters, but answer nothing. And to answer your question: I do not know."
“You really have you’re ways to make people feel comfortable,” Ragnar responds, a wry smile on his face. ”As it sounds, you aren’t really pleased with the situation - whatever that is - and I won’t be neither. We both don’t want a fight over something that’s clearly out of our control. So let’s talk, without any threats, play with open cards.”
”It was my mother that gave Vi to me on the day of her vanishing. As I said, a memento,” Ragnar starts explaining, but is interrupted by Vi. The little bird comes rushing out of its cage and flutters around nervously between the two.
”This is nothing anyone should know about! You can’t even imagine the world of trouble this could get us into! You…”
”That’s enough!” Ragnar’s voice booms. The little bird flutters around confused before descending on his master’s lap. Ragnar carefully pats his companion apologetic. Then whispers to her: ”I don’t think we gain anything from secrecy this time friend.”
”Vi is my mentor in the study of my arcane abilities and beyond. And while we clearly not always agree on anything, I like to call her a friend,” Ragnar continues in a sincere voice. ”Why is it you have been watching us?”
You open your mouth, but as you do so a horrible paralysis creeps over you. You are unable to move.
"It's a pity, really. I come into your home to ask some questions and you threaten me with bombs. Spell won't last long though."
She unfurls a small scroll and reads aloud the contents. Almost immediately, a green, burning energy begins building inside of you, shooting out into the room from your eyes, mouth, and nose.
Ysania stares at you dispassionately and flips shut the book you were reading. She casts a spell on it.
As the world begins to fade out, she leans in.
"That's a fire trap. If somebody comes looking for you, you and your books are in for a nasty surprise."
The green energy reaches a crescendo and you are falling... falling...
Sentos looks at you curiously, and then shrugs and casts his spell.
A sudden paralysis takes hold of you, and you are unable to move.
"I apologize for this, but your participation in this ritual will kill you. I've never been a good liar," he giggles nervously, his voice raspy and strange.
Flipping open the scroll, he reads aloud the incantation. A strange, grey energy begins to build within you and pour out of you. Your eyes flit down to your hands - it is as if they are bursting with grey flame.
Sentos salutes you.
"I'll see you in the chamber."
The energy reaches a crescendo and suddenly you are falling... falling...
Despite Koraga's difficult demeanour and obvious sense of control, she relaxes at your sweet words.
[b]"Well, I'm not quite at liberty to say everything. But it can't hurt - this is all inevitable anyways. You and many others have a unique source of power within you. Something which is of great interest to my association, and leader. He intends to harness that power, and with it, become immortal."
She rubs her hands together and spreads them towards you. Too late, you realise she had just cast a spell.
Paralysis suddenly takes hold of you. She looks quite sad. "I'm sorry. This is the end for you Ragnar. We'll never know what that power is or where it came from, but that you have it is important. You were a good man. Pity."
She produces a scroll and reads from it.
You feel a strange fire building within you. Strange energy starts to take hold of your body and you can feel it spreading into your limbs. Suddenly it bursts forth, bathing the room. The dwarf shields her eyes as the energy reaches a crescendo. The room suddenly vanishes and you and Vi are falling... falling...
The disturbingly maniacal wizard throws out a hand to you, chanting loudly.
A paralysis begins to take hold of you, but you resist! He does not seem pleased.
"DAMNIT HOLD STILL!"
"Bah! This is pointless. I don't know why I had these instructions," complains the tiefling. He vanishes from sight.
A loud crunch is felt as something heavy slams into your head, harder than anything you've felt. You collapse to your knees as the tiefling reappears, blood dripping from the hilt of a rapier. The last thing you see is he has produced a scroll, and starts reading from it. You feel a strange burning inside and then black out.
Though unable to identify the spell cast, from the fleeting feeling Juid assumes it was some attempt to force him to stand still. He slaps Pîsim on the ass to run away and hobbles thirty feet back on the path to duck behind a tree. With so few options, he readies a fire bolt to shoot at the wizard, hoping to interrupt his next spell.
If mage moves within 30 feet of Juid and tries to cast again:
Hector eyes the lady warily, but proceeds to help her steady herself and agrees to accompany her.
The mage looks at you in astonishment.
"I am TRYING to capture you ALIVE!" He shrieks. Well outside of your range, he throws out his hand, chanting aggressively.
Despite your iron will and the burning flame of your goddess within you, his power is too great and the paralysis takes hold. The mage lets out a sigh.
"Pity. You were more fun than I thought you'd be, but fall like all the rest." He wanders closer to you, pulling out a scroll.
"Say goodbye Juid, you'll be an uglier corpse than you are a man."
Hold up the scroll, he reads from it. A strange, burning energy suddenly builds within you, painful and exhilarating. A low HAW sounds out from behind the mage, and he lets out a yelp as Pîsim charges towards the both of you. Suddenly, the world falls away and you plunge into darkness.
You begin to move along with her. However, her head tilts up and she looks at the sun oddly.
"Pity," she hisses. "It looks like I have less time than I thought. They're waiting for me. Please hold still dear, this won't hurt. Yet."
Suddenly, a strange paralysis begins to creep over your limbs!
Despite a valiant effort, it is not enough. The spell takes hold and you are rendered immobile.
"I am sorry we couldn't speak," says the strange woman. "But you're a fool who wouldn't know anything about your own power regardless. Any punishment I will face will be rendered moot by the master's ascension. Hold on dearest..."
She produces a scroll and reads from it. Suddenly a strange, burning energy within you begins to build rapidly! You try to scream but can't, and suddenly the world falls away as you plunge into darkness.
The first thing you feel is helplessness. You are paralyzed and appear to be floating in place, unable to move and do much more than breath and move your eyes. As you adjust to your surroundings, the first thing you notice is the heavy, cloying scent of incense and incessant chanting. The chanting is deep, sonorous, with many voices speaking as one.
You open your eyes. The room you are in is massive, lit by strange green and purple lights that hover in the air. Your eyes flit down and alight upon a crystal sphere. Scenes from your life over the past ten years play rapidly. There you see your life at its best, at its worst, and at its most private and vulnerable. The room itself is many sided with at least twenty sides, each of which are a good five to teen feet wide. And on each side is a large, circular symbol with a humanoid, floating in front of it with their own crystal playing scenes from their lives. Your eyes flick around and you can see others awakening, looking to you with expression of panic and confusion.
Within the centre of the room are dozens of figures in purple and green robes. They dance around, chanting with several of them casting spell after spell. One man stands directly in the centre. Wizened and old, he looks to be Keleshite and strangely naked save for a large blue crystal around his neck.
The chanting increases in volume, and slowly, you and the other victims begin to rise in the air over top of the Keleshite man. Ten feet in the air, you begin rotating amongst each other, like gears. A burning energy begins to build within you and you can see strange auras building around the floating people in the room. Each aura is a different colour, shade, and intensity. The energy you feel begins to build rapidly as the chant reaches a fever pitch. It is almost unbearable.
Something has gone wrong.
A blast of yellow light explodes from the centre of the room. All of the figures in the room are sent flying and you, as well as the other floating beings, crash to the ground in a heap. But the strange burning power within you has changed and grown. You feel powerful. Invincible. Better yet; you can move. The naked Keleshite man staggers to his feet.
”NO! STOP THEM! THEY’LL RUIN EVERYTHING!”
A portal suddenly opens in the centre of the room, and three dark-skinned women, covered in glowing tattoos emerge. The scrying spheres around the room start exploding as the women step out.
"Destroy the spheres and protect the prisoners!"