Ezekia's page

29 posts. Alias of Brainiac.


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Ezekia has been staring thoughtfully at Dramm as he speaks, but her green eyes widen in surprise when he presents the ring to her. Through the empathic link, Dramm can feel a surge of happiness and warmth, stronger than anything he has ever felt before. "Oh, Dramm," she breathes, a few tears of joy welling at the corners of her eyes. "It's been nearly a year and a day since you pledged yourself to me in exchange for my training and guidance. Before our terms expire, I have a few last commands for you. Love me with all of your heart. Never give up on us. Make me the happiest woman in the world."

The witch throws her arms around the sorcerer and presses her lips against his. "Yes! Yes, of course I will marry you!" she laughs, the tears now flowing freely down her pale cheeks.

"I don't know if you can afford the delay," Ezekia says to Dramm. He can feel her concern for Rena's well-being through their connection. "Let me take her and Nutmeg to Wizard's Peak. We need you to go that island and stop the hag's ritual before things get worse in town."

Selgaer is only able to follow the wolves' trail a short distance before it abruptly vanishes. It seems as if the creatures just stepped out of the fog from nowhere. Joy peers down at the city from on high, but the thick fog makes it almost impossible to see anything within it.

Ezekia takes Dramm's hands. "We will stay together until we have ensured the townsfolk' safety. I won't lose you, either."

As Selgaer and Dramm move off to speak privately, Ezekia calls the rest of you together. "We will need to move swiftly to rescue as many people as possible. Get them off the streets and into safety. We should try to find the members of the Council and make sure they are secure as well before we seek out the hag and put a stop to this madness."

The witch looks across the room, to where Nutmeg has been lingering. "Nutmeg, it's not safe for you to stay here. You should stick by your father's side." The young ferren nods, eyes wide.

Joy, Dramm, and Ezekia:
"The others didn't seem to be particularly perturbed by Craven," Ezekia says. "I doubt they'll have any judgment towards you if you reveal your true form. Remember though that if you give up the Joy identity, you won't be able to get it back. Perhaps your friends in town have something that can help?"

We kind of did changeling identity changes wrong earlier. We can assume the members of the Janus Society have some sort of enchanted object to let a changeling temporarily assume their true form before reverting back to their current identity. Perhaps only for 10 minutes a day.

"I know, sister," Ezekia says, sitting cross-legged across from Joy. She passes the girl a folio. "Maybe you'd like to help me. With Peggy Frogwart's betrayal and subsequent defeat, we will need to find a new third member for our coven. Our magic will diminish in power if we do not find a replacement. I've compiled a list of likely candidates among the citizens of Crossings and the surrounding towns. Let's try to find the best choice."

"A halfling could work. You're about the same size."

Ezekia frowns at Joy. "They aren't going to allow a child inside the brothel. You'll need a good disguise."

Ezekia bites her bottom lip. "He's definitely not a nice man. Only concerned with money and furthering his own ends. He's one of the main reasons why I quit the council. Crossings would be better off without him in power, but I don't condone using violence to achieve that end. There has to be a better way."

Ezekia grows increasingly concerned as the hatred and pain takes root in Dramm's heart. She tries her best to be supportive and caution him against his darker impulses, but the sorcerer can sense the fear tingeing her worries.

Dramm and Joy Downtime:
Ezekia wraps her arms around Dramm, holding him close. Tears roll down her cheek. "It was an accident. It wasn't your fault," she assures him. He can feel the raw pain in her heart. Pain for him, for Joy, for the world at large.

"This isn't your sole responsibility. You have to let the others help you," the witch tells him. "Let go of this obsession. I love you, and I don't want to see it destroy you!"

Ezekia glances at Dramm. Through their link, he can feel her worry and anxiety regarding the situation. She remains quiet for now, though.

Ezekia smiles patiently as Joy confesses everything. "It's not your fault that you were created this way. What defines you as a person is what you choose to do with the life that has been given to you. You have chosen to become a witch, to devote yourself to helping your community and fighting against the forces of chaos. You are a good person, Joy. Never forget that."

She leans forward and gently kisses Joy's forehead.

Ezekia looks shocked for a few moments, but that quickly turns to wonder. "You are a changeling! That explains a lot, actually. I've never met a changeling before... That I know of, at any rate."

She reaches out and places her hand on Joy's wooden one. "Thank you for sharing your secret with me. I know it must have been a difficult decision to make. I promise I will not betray your trust, sister."

Ezekia frowns slightly. "Well, you do have a strong innate affinity for nature magic, and there is that faint earthy smell about you. If I had to guess, I would say that faerie magic runs strong in your bloodline. Witchcraft actually has its roots in faerie magic, so that is nothing to be ashamed of."

You don't need to be secretive about being sisters.

Ezekia nods and gestures for Joy to have a seat. She pours tea for both of them and sits across from her. "You can tell me anything, sister. What is troubling you?"


"I don't know much about the club. I hear it's very exclusive. Only a handful of people are ever allowed inside. If you accept the invite, you should keep your wits about you."


Ezekia emerges from the adjoining room. I'm here, sister. What is the matter?"

Ezekia removes Joy's blindfold and bonds. She anoints the girl's forehead with fragrant oils, then kisses her lightly on the lips. "Welcome to my coven, sister. You are now a witch, forever more."

She presents Joy with an athame and a pointed hat of her very own!

Ezekia places the blindfold over Joy's eyes and binds her wrists with the cord, then guides her into the boat. The journey to a nearby island is made in the dark, and Joy remains blinded as the witch marches with her a few hundred feet inland. The magician can feel a faint hum of magical power coming from the ground, a magic circle channeling the energy of the surrounding woods.

"Step forward now, Joy Summers, into the sacred circle. With perfect love and perfect trust, you shall be purified and learn."

Joy feels the touch of cords across her body as Ezekia lightly whips her, a symbolic scourging. She is then measured with a cord, which is tied in knots to mark the measures; and administered an oath. "In the presence of the Lord and Lady, mighty Dead and Sisters and Brothers of the Craft, do you vow to guard and protect the Craft, the Secrets of the Craft, and the brothers and sisters of the Craft, and to render aid to said brothers and sisters when called upon?"

For Joy:

Over the past several months, Ezekia has worked closely with you, teaching you to control your natural magic but also taking a measure of your personality. She has taken note of your desire to do good works and help others, and one night she bids you to meet her on the shores of the Dark Waters. The young witch awaits you with a boat, a blindfold, and a length of rope.

"Joy Summers, the time has come for you to know thyself. Do you have the courage to be purified and learn the ancient secrets of the Craft? If so, you will allow yourself to blinded and bound. We must preserve our mysteries from those who are not Chosen."

"N-no, I'm okay. We're all okay," Ezekia says, flushing slightly herself.

Slight shock, then embarrassment flecked with faint traces of guilt.

Ezekia seems to recoil a bit, putting her free hand to her forehead. She takes a few deep breaths. "The ritual worked, but not without some backlash. I faltered for a few moments and the energy reached out to me. I think... The two of us seem to have been connected somehow."

Ezekia squeezes Dramm's hand. "Not yet. How do you feel?"

Ezekia's relief is palpable, a warmth that suffuses your body.

Ezekia cradles Dramm's head in her lap as he loses consciousness. She looks up at Imedren. "I think it was successful--more or less... That piece of amber of his was a repository of magical power, but twisted to a fell purpose. He converted the mana into raw energy and drew it into himself to power his own magic, altering its properties to something less corrupt. At least, that was his hope..."

The witch coughs. "I am glad that all of you proved strong enough to withstand the ritual. If more than one of us had faltered... I shudder to think of what might have happened."

Ezekia stumbles across the room and throws her arms around Dramm. She holds him close, her own tears falling on the floor.

Again you hear a whisper of the witch's voice in your mind. "Sorry... I'm here..."

With a supreme effort, Dramm manages to draw the arcane energies back into his body. Ezekia lies still, wisps of smoke rising from her body, but then she draws a ragged breath. She drags herself to her knees, grabs the hammer and resumes the pounding rhythm. Her green eyes blaze with determination, though there seems to be a faint corona of purple around the edges now...

You hear the faint whisper of Ezekia's voice in your mind. "Won't... fail you..."

Ezekia gently touches Dramm's cheek. "This magic is beyond my understanding, but I know this is something you have to do. Just try..."

The witch trails off, but the unspoken implication is clear. Try not to die.

She takes her position and nods solemnly.

Ezekia nods and sets to work. Her mouth is a thin line as she concentrates on tracing the patterns along Dramm's body, and the ink shimmers faintly as the magic settles in.

"There. Not too bad, if I do say so myself. I might have been a tattoo artist in another life." She smiles, trying to break the tension in the room.

"It is cold iron, yes," Ezekia confirms, searching Dramm's face with concern. "Of course, I will help you with any ritual you plan on attempting. I'm not about to let anything happen to my only apprentice."

The witch turns her gaze to the rest of you to see if anybody else will volunteer.

3 ss, 5 cp total for the horse rentals. You gain 1 gc for selling the farm.

"I am glad you made it back in one piece," Ezekia says with a warm smile. The smile fades as she produces the hammer Dramm had requested. "Here it is. Are you easy to tell me what you need it for?"