After the rocks have been cleared away, you finally manage to find a place to lay down your sleeping mat. You lay and listen to the sounds of Awful repairing the clockwork. The smell of oil and grease mixes with the scent of the fire smoke. The fire itself keeps the biting cold outside, leaving the whole room warm. Eventually, sleep finds you. The sleep is deep and dreamless, and while it only feels like mere moments later, you awaken feeling refreshed.
Something is off. You don’t smell the fire. You feel neither the warmth of the fire nor the cold of the ocean. You move your arms out and they hit something hard – something smooth and see-through. Glass. You’re trapped inside a glass coffin. As the realization dawns on you, you momentarily panic. (Make a will challenge roll with 1 bane or gain 1 insanity).
Bertram manages to force down his panic. He pushes against the glass, testing it and attempting to open the unnatural tomb. He knows he doesnt have long, and does his best to keep his breathing even. It's almost impossible with panic clawing at the back of his thoughts. He reaches to his side, feeling for his orb.
With relief, you find that you have all of your equipment with you. You also feel well rested (gain any castings back and heal per normal Rest rules).
It was time to get out of here. Bertram pushes against the glass, finding it heavy. His arms quickly begin to shake and tire. A change in tactics is needed. He places his knees on the glass and pushes, forcing it up high enough to slip a dagger under the opening. It's enough to give him leverage, and he slowly shifts the lid to the side. He felt a familiar desperation for fresh air. Already the closed space was sending his mind spinning.
Looking beyond the glass, it seems as if you're in some sort of dimly lit hallway made of manufactured metal. It's not iron, as it doesn't give you the creeps as iron does.
Bertram pulls himself up out of the glass prison. He swears he can feel weight in his chest, like heavy stones on his ribs, though nothing is there. It takes a full minute for him to begin calming himself. Now freed, he looks up and down the hall for any sign of his friends.
How did I get here? Is this a dream? A part of the tunnels I've never seen?
Without any discernable goal in the dim light, he gingerly places one gloved hand on the metal wall and begins to walk. He needed out of this place and quickly.
Who would build something like this?
Yes. In a hall made of metal. Looking around, it seems to go on endlessly in either direction. But, you think you can see - or perhaps feel - another coffin down the hall that way.
Bertram shudders. This place is an uncanny reminder of his dreams. He wonder if maybe he had never woken. There is a knot in his gut as he looks down the hall. He creeps forward quietly, following the instinctual draw. Maybe his friends were in the same predicament.
You creep down the metal hallway - the rectangular lights uniformly stationed along the ceiling - until you reach another glass coffin. Inside is a halfling; wavy brown hair with a distinct scar along his chin. However, he's not really there. You can feel that it's his soul which is trapped inside, not him as a physical person
Bertram peers into the glass sarcophagus and jumps back with a start upon seeing the ghostly form of a halfling. He's not really sure what he expected looking inside, but it was frightening with or without a body. There is a quick internal debate as Bertram stares inside.
It's too dangerous to open. Leave the fool to his fate.
We... I can't just leave him here.
Bertram strokes his beard in thought, then pulls out his knife. His mind was made up to at least try to help the Halfling. It's what the others would have expected of him. He does his best to wedge it into the glass and open the sarcophagus.
You're unable to find a purchase with your knife. No matter what you do, it seems as if the coffin is completely sealed. Perhaps you were able to get out because you weren't fully sealed in? Or perhaps it's your connection to the spirit world.
Bertram stares down at the unconscious halfling with the beginnings of despair.
He's an unfortunate pest in a box. Leave him. The others need us more.
Bertram strokes his beard, pushing away the insistent nagging in his head. An idea occurs to him. This place was so similar to the tunnels. Perhaps they weren't so different. If he could bring souls back with him from one, perhaps he could it from another.
You know that sounds insane, right? You saw it in a dream?
"Hydrand would at least try." Bertram mutters. Then puts his hand on the box. He focuses on his dreams. He paced endless corridors finding spirits of all sizes and shapes. Some of them, with a touch, he could bring back with him. Their memories like dreams within the dream. Once he has these firmly in his mind, he reaches for the Halfling.
You reach in and gently try to tug on the soul, trying to bring him back to consciousness. His eyes open, and he screams. Suddenly, the entire place starts shaking as if it were in an earthquake and every person trapped in the glass coffins wake up. Their eyes are panicked and confused, they start pounding on the glass from the inside, fruitlessly.
They all start screaming. The screams are so loud that you cannot hear anything else.
Make a will challenge roll with 3 banes or gain 1d3 insanity.
You useless child! The angry voice shouts in his mind, far away amid the screams. The cries of the dead are piercing and overwhelming. Bertram tries desperately to push it out, but they drown him with crushing force. His consciousness sinks, weighted down by their anguish. Something strains in his mind, grasping at the empty space. Then, all at once, the sensation is far away. Bertram's face becomes focused and cold.
He stands up, looking down at the pitiful soul. The empathy in his eyes is gone now.
"Nothing I can do, friend. Looks like you and your like are stuck here. We shouldn't have even bothered."
"What the hells are you doing trying to wake this world up?! Let's go. You probably don't even see the thing trying to invade our world, do you? Let's go, there's a lot to do."
You see Hokey coming towards you, from the direction you haven't been yet.
He gives the case a tap while the person inside struggles. Just then, Hokey's voice calls down the hallway. It takes a moment to recognize her, like recalling someone from a distant haze.
"Ah... Hokey. You're alive. Good. Lets get out of here. I have no idea what you're talking about, but I don't want to be here once it arrives. We find Thibad and leave the rest to... whatever this s%~$ is."
He collects himself once more, then follows his friend.
Finding the Others:
"Ah... Hokey. You're alive. Good. Lets get out of here. I have no idea what you're talking about, but I don't want to be here once it arrives. We find Thibad and leave the rest to... whatever this s&## is."
=====
Hokey is immensely distracted by something far off, but is already walking away.
"This way, hurry. And stop whatever you're doing. It's waking this place up."
Where did Hydrand and Awful get to? How did they figure out what to do, or was it just luck?
=====
"No idea. Woke up in a box myself. Fortunately, I've got a little more meat to me than these poor saps."
Bertram motions to the filled coffins.
"We only have two directions. Let's choose one and start walking."
He looks to Hokey, she was the pathfinder after all.
You finally make it to what seems to be the end of the hallway. There is a framed opening, the size of a door but without the physical door in the space. Beyond it is a large circular room with many other doors leading out into different hallways. You can see the same glass coffins beyond each of the other doors. In the center of this room is a single door, standing upright leading to nowhere. It is currently closed. There seems to be nothing supporting the doorway. No walls are attached to it. It's just standing there, alone, in the middle of the room. You are fully capable of walking all the way around it.
Coming from one hallway is Bertram and Hokey. Coming from a different hallway is Hydrand and Awful. Andras is nowhere to be seen.
=====
Hydrand "Hokey!! Bert-"
His tone is a touch higher than normal, and he gives an incredibly brief but pensive pause before starting again.
"I'm sorry you're here, too, but you are certainly a welcome sight."
He steps around the room with impossibly fast motions, embracing Hokey followed by pulling Bertram in close with a clasp of the forearm and a grasp of the shoulder.
"I found Awful, I'd wager you've not seen Andras or he'd be here, yeah?"
His voice is pitched high but slowly drops to his normal intonations as the magic wears off. He gives them a chance to answer before addressing the nightmare that is this place or the raucous event that had come to pass.
=====
Bertram
Hydrand is a welcome sight indeed. The clockwork remained one of the most reliable assets to the group. Bertram is happy to see him again. There is momentary hesitance before returning the firm clasp.
"Hydrand, perfect. Just the Tin-Man we like to see when our backs are up against it. Awful, should have known you were too rebellious to simply die. No sign of Andras yet. We are two rich kids away from getting paid and leaving forsaken rock."
Bertam's eyes continue to be drawn to the strange door in the room. It was ominously surreal in this place. Hydrand returns to a normal speed and Bertram makes his way to inspect the portal.
=====
Hokey
Hokey stares backwards, towards the hallway and furrows her brows.
"Are we supposed to be here, as opposed to the hallway? Andras and Jet are moving away from us. I can go get them, but I can't tell which way is right."
She looks trepidatiously at something further down the hallway.
"They're going towards the Maw. That can't be the right direction...right?"
"The Maw? What's that?" Hydrand asked from her side.
=====
Bertram "A maw? What are you on about, Hoofs? I only see a door here."
Bertram gestures pointedly to the wood frame.
"What even is this place? Just... ghosts in glass boxes."
=====
Hokey
"Oh, that's right. You guys can't see everything I can, anymore. I'll explain later, but it's trying to invade our world, and those two are headed right for it."
Hokey grimaces like she's swallowed a bitter pill.
"I better go stop them. You guys stay here. And Bertram, do be more discreet. I saw that."
=====
Hydrand
Hydrand moves to go with her until she clarifies that he should not. Clearly torn, he takes another step forward and expends another casting of Swiftness, this time on Hokey.
"We'll wait, but... Don't... Not come back."
=====
Andras
Andras looks relieved to see Hokey.
We’ve been looking for you. We figured the people who were caught last were further away... I don’t trust that door one bit. You found the others, or a way out yet?
=====
Hokey
"Ha! When have uou known me to put myself in danger? I'll be back before you know it." Hokey says to Hydrand before dashing off far quicker than she normally could. She's going 23 yrds/turn, just on move.
Hokey slows down as she draws closer to Andras struggling with an incredibly frightened Jet.
"I don't know about the way out, but I did find the others! We gotta go back this way to meet up."
Seeing Jet terrified out of his mind, Hokey firmly takes hold of him as she half drags him back towards the center room.
"I know this is scarier than anything you've ever seen, but you have to hold on, Jet. We're almost out of this nightmare."
I could kill Bertram right now.
=====
Bertram
Bertram stands in the chamber whistling softly to himself as he circles the strange door, waiting for Hokey to get back. Curiosity tugged at him despite knowing that the door was almost certainly deadly to open. Fortunately he wasnt foolish enough to risk his own skin opening it.
We should have backed Hokey up. What if she runs into trouble? Crew always works with at least one person to watch their back.
Bertram shushes the voice with a sharp note to end his lazy whistling. No need to worry about Hokey, she was quite capable in her own right. He busied himself with the knife at his hip instead. That reminded him... he waves down Awful. ( @Conman#8644 )
"Awful, good to see you're alive. Hope you're not deaf." Bertram doesnt really pause, but he does lower his voice to avoid shouting. "Did the Savage Ornament always teleport? We went through so much to get it, but... what does it actually do?"
Characteristics: +3 to Health.
I also found that I forgot to take my level 1 rogue stat ups. I am not a bright lad. I'm upping my Agility (11 to 12) and my Strength (9 to 10). Please forgive me bookrat!
Rogue Talent - Magic (Earth): Power +1, Earth Tradition, 2 Spells
I have chosen the Magic talent and unlocked the Earth Tradition. I'm choosing to take two spells from a tradition I know as my 2 options. That should equal one level 0 spell from unlocking the tradition and two level 1 spells from my options.
Exploit Opportunity: Now if I roll above 20 and am at least 5 above the target score I can take another turn at any time before the end of the round. I can only do this once per round. Sweet!
The next few days after burning down the forest are filled with aches and pains. Bertram barely managed to survive the fire, thanks to Awful. The human had fared mostly well through the flames comparatively. Singed, but alive, Bertram trudges through the heat along with his fellows. They had a lead on the orc now, but at the back of everyone's mind they had to know he wasn't going to stop. Andras' family sure knew how to step in it.
Over the next few weeks, Bertram continues to sharpen his aim with his sling. Last Hope had proven how ineffective he was in battle. These individuals were strange, but they certainly proved reliable in the events with "Smiley", as Hokey had dubbed them. They weren't the worst he had run with either. Bertram was determined to be valuable when they next encountered the orc.
Bertram's Big Day, but it's actually night time.:
The group is settling down after a day of travel, several days since the forest fire. Bertram sits at the edge of the camp staring into the small cloudy glass sphere. This is what had drawn him back to Last Hope with visions of Muck. He found that funny now as he turned it between his fingertips, peering into the misty center. He had come back because of the guilt he had felt about leaving the poor Changeling as they had, and how she had been so distraught over her love's plight. The tears and rage painted on her face was burned into Bertram's mind. And now she's dead along with the entire town.
So much for love, Muck. Adelmar died with the rest of Last Hope. I should have known better.
Bertram suddenly freezes, staring with disbelief into the small ball. The mists inside are gently fading and clearing. A perfectly transparent glass sphere now rests between his fingers, and through it he can see a red thread passing through the grass. The thread vanishes when he looks around the crystal ball, but through it the bright cord is undeniably distinct. He blinks incredulously a few times, but the thread persists. Bertram stoops and slowly reaches out a hand to touch it and instead feels only a gentle and distinct warmth. Standing again, Bertram takes one look back at the rest of the group bedding down for the evening, then quietly slips away.
Bertram walks for some time following the thread through the grass as the darkness of the evening deepens. It emits a soft glow seen through the sphere, leading him gently to the edges of the charred forest. Bertram can barely make out the burnt cinders standing tall and leafless in the darkness. The thread slopes upward and then comes to an end, tied to the latch of a pristine wooden gate.
The appearance of the cottage gives Bertram a start. He had been so focused on the thread that he hadn't noticed the dark structure until he was upon it. He looks furtively around into the quiet darkness of the burnt forest as if taking in his surroundings for the first time.
Silent. That's cause we burned it down. Everything's dead here, even the insects...
The cottage looms before him. Bertram slowly pushes open the gate and steps up to the door. The building is untouched by the flames that roared here, despite wooden walls and a thatched roof. There isn't even soot when he places his hand on the door and pushes it open. A deep black void opens before him.
"Welcome, please come in." a voice croaks out from the yawning portal.
"F&#$ING HELLS! WHO'S THERE?!" Bertram scrabbles back paces in fright. The rasping croak chuckles dryly in response.
"Now now, no need to be rude, Stix." Bertram freezes in place at hearing his true name. A candle lights within the cabin and illuminates a hunched old woman. The darkness casts shadows deep shadows over a wrinkled face that is twisted into a toothy grin of rotten teeth. Black streaks of hair hang matted from her head and cruel eyes glint in the candlelight.
"Come inside, Changeling. You will not be harmed this night. I see you've found something of mine. What a pleasure it would be to discuss it." The kind words cause Stix to tremble slightly in fear. He can feel something hanging in the air. Is it malice? Murder?
"Hunger." The voice in his head whispers. "She thinks we are prey. Suckers for sport."
But the old woman only smiles at him from inside the cottage. Bertram recovers himself, standing resolutely in the doorway.
"You're a witch. A hag."
"I am." She smiles a rotted smile. "One who can help you with what you want, Stix. Or would you prefer Bertram?"
Stix's stance falters. The crone chuckles again at his unintentional affirmation. The sound is as unpleasant the second time.
"There will only be true forms in here, Changeling. Reveal yourself and hear what I have to offer."
Stix hesitates for a moment, then steps forward into the hut. His form melts into the wood and dirt matter that comprises his true body. The honor, the pride, the Dwarven heritage fall away. He finds himself inside a single room and seats himself at the sole table in the middle. No fire burns, the candlelight dimly suggests the presence of dark fetishes and adornments that line the inside walls. Bones, strange brews, books, bits of fur and skin, tiny cages, burned chitin, and other materials fill the small space. Bertram sits on a rickety stool at the table, warily watching the crone.
"You said you could help. What did you mean? How would you know what I want?" Stix's whistling wooden voice sounds out of place in this space even to himself. The crone motions for him to present the crystal ball. Stix stiffens as she plucks the crystal ball from his grasp with clawed, gnarled fingers.
"Some prizes may only be attained in one way, my sweet child. We both know how you came to own this sphere, and that the real Bertram Romden is not coming back." She smiles cruelly when Stix looks away from her gaze. "My little changeling, I would like to make your dream come true. I want to change you from a puppet into a real Dwarf."
The changeling stares at the croaking woman in shock.
"You... you mean like Bertram? You can make that real?" He leans in despite himself. "You can make me into a Dwarf?"
"Into Bertram." The crone corrects. "Like your crime never happened. You take on his life, become the heir you wish to be. Have a father that loves you..."
Stix winces again, swearing he can see satisfaction in the smiling eyes. He leans away again and his eyes narrow in suspicion.
"That can't be free, witch. How much would something so great cost? Poisoning a town? Children? Witches deal in misery. You'll use me to hurt others and then I'm back where I started."
"Such mistrust. I will make your lie real, Stix. I will make you honest for the first time in your life. You will have a father and a family. And all I ask is that you and your friends slay the Orc and complete your quest for me. Who would suffer with one less animal in the world, Stix?"
Stix is genuinely taken aback by the response.
"Why? Why do you care about the orc? Or that he's hunting us?" The crone's expression darkens slightly.
"The beast has interrupted my own interests. A poor, mad animal that needs to be put down. A danger to itself and others."
"You want me to be your murderer?" The crone grins nastily in response and holds up the crystal ball.
"Murderer? I believe they will call it justice, Stix. Destroy something evil as you had planned all along. Wouldn't you want to return home a hero? I have full faith in your capabilities... Bertram."
Stix stares for a long moment at the swirling crystal. Then reaches out for it. The moment his fingers touch the smooth surface they become fastened to it. Stix tries to jerk away, but the hag's grip is like stone. Her other hand darts forward like a viper to plunge into his chest. Stix screams as the claws latch onto something and tear it free. He falls to the ground with the orb still held fast to his fingertips. The witch cackles ecstatically. His vision is already fading as the pain spreads throughout his body.
[b]"Away with you, little Changeling. You have much to do!"
Bertram suddenly bolts upright in his sleeping pack. The rest of the group is sleeping around him and Hydrand is standing in silent vigil. Bertram checks his chest and finds no wounds. The crystal ball sits neatly next to him on the ground, sunk about an inch into the earth. Bertram carefully stows it away and looks around again at the others, then lays down in his pack again. The experience had shaken him. Even if there was no wound, he could feel something was different. The orb was warm to the touch now. Bertram's mind turns with thoughts, but slowly he drifts back to his slumber.
Studying his equipment, Bertram begins meditating using the crystal ball that had drawn him back to Last Hope. The orb helps him focus and clear his thinking. Something within the orb resonates inside Bertram, and with focus he finds that he can clear the orb's misty interior. The orb reveals the whispers of spells and shows him motions to weave magic. The orb helps to enhance the affinity for earth that the Standing stones had stirred a year ago. As the party travel's, Bertram hones this attunement. Soon he can manipulate stone and earth using the orb. He won't be useless when he sees Smiley next.
During his free time, Bertram tends to stick to himself. The others notice that he bathes as often as he is able. His singed clothes and the ash of the forest visibly irk the Dwarf. Even in this heat he spares some of his water to wash his hands or clean his beard when able. Bertram continues his habit of using your race to call to each of you, but is coming more frequently to replace this with your names directly. He does not ask or pry when others in the group leave for their own business or return. He simply nods and welcomes the ally back into the fold.
When Hokey offers to go to the Stones, Bertram accepts. As he saw it, Hokey was the one who led them all to safety. It's fair that they return the favor by escorting her visit to the stones.
Stix reels back when the iron hand touched his face, his own hand quickly reaching to clutch it. His arms are long like reaching branches and there is no mouth on the blank face. Beneath glowing green eyes is a blank plate of wood. A voice like wind through wooden slats rattles from behind the mask.
"No no no-" Stix grasps in horror at the melting features, desperately trying to stop the change to his face. Eventually he stares uselessly at his wooden fingers. Slowly he looks up at the Clockwork.
"Now hold on a second, Hydrand..." Stix begins warily.
Attributes: Agility +1, Intelligence +1, Health +4 total (+3 Rogue, +1 House Rule)
Abilities: Gain 1 Profession, Wilderness::1d20 ⇒ 4 , Gatherer
Nimble Recovery: As an Action, recover your HR and move up to half your speed without triggering attacks.
Trickery: Once per round, make an attack with 1 boon. The target takes an additional 1d6 damage if the attack hits.
Interesting Thing
Glass orb with a swirling mist inside.
Gained Items:
Soft Leather Armor
Letter of Commendation
8 Copper Pennies
*********
Downtime:
Bertram Romden left Last Hope almost as confused as he had entered it. The strange events that transpired were etched into his mind. He carried them with him as he struck out into the backwoods to earn a living again. The funds afforded to him from home had long run out, and he knew he would need coin if he wanted to stay fed. The Romden clan would no longer allow him back to the estate and this deed alone would not earn him the good graces of his family.
It wasn't long after Last Hope that Bertram fell in with old crowds again in order to survive. It wasn't the life he had grown accustom to, but living in the woods afforded him some new skills. Bertram learned the necessity of finding and taking what he could from all the hidden away places. He made a decent amount of money shaking people down on backroads and saved what he could from the treasures he claimed. Practice honed his aim with a sling to a fine point and now he aimed to prove it with a proper weapon once he had the coin.
However, something about the events of Last Hope continued to play in his mind even months later. At times, he would feel pangs of guilt that had not always been there in more rugged times. Something still festered under the surface of his mind. Maybe this self reflection was just a distraction from a deeper calling.
One day, picking through the carriage of a gypsy woman Bertram came across an oddity. A small glass globe swirling with mist. Bertram spied into it curiously as he felt the cool surface beneath his rough fingers. The mists parted only for a moment, and Bertram saw the face of a woman screaming in rage and pain. He recognized her as the changeling the Human had attempted to cut down in the forests among the Fomor.
The mists overtook the furious visage again. The brief moment left Bertram shaken and sullen. That night he gathered his things and left without a word to his compatriots. He would seek out Last Hope once more. Maybe he could lay the memories to rest and discover what troubled him so deeply about the changeling woman.
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
Dramm took over as caretaker of the Wizard's Peak following the events with the Eye. The sorcerer gave Caribdus a respectful burial and set the man's affairs in order. Dramm studied the tomes and notes Caribdus left behind and discovered the old man had been researching a number of hidden artifacts throughout the world. He set about unraveling these notes and eventually locating some of these magical pieces.
Months passed and life in the Crossings returned to normal. Ezekia was active in restoring the Council with new members who would in turn restore the city. Dramm amassed a respectable living based on his magical research and the occasional enchanted item he managed to uncover. Ezekia's help quickly earned him recognition and funding from the council as well as private magical researchers. Dramm took pleasure in the simple act of research and discovery of magical theory and power, while Ezekia directed his efforts to valuable application for cities and towns in the region.
Dramm and Ezekia passed the years together, driven by Ezekia's works and his research. In time they had a family, daughters that shared their parent's affinity for magic. Their children grew up and moved away, and the two grew older. Ezekia passed away quietly, and Dramm left the city soon after for a quieter life.
Shen found his old friend living in a tower built not far from where Brace had once stood. The land here had become more vibrant since the Mother's influence dissipated. Dramm had lived long, a side effect of his magical research and healing power, but age came for him as it did anyone. Of the original group, only Shen still lived alongside Dramm. Father Death had gifted the priest with what was promised. Now he stood at Dramm's door, the old Sorcerer seeing him truly smile for the first time after many many years...
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
A mix of expressions vie for Dramm's face. He settles on on beleaguered satisfaction.
"Selgaer can spot an opportunity. We cant be certain the vampire could be trusted with the Eye. She was as much a monster as Katandramus. That was probably the best chance we had of swiftly ending her. Let's get downstairs. I have to patch up that f~#*ing idiot, then we can get to the church."
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
Return to the Crossings
Dramm is contemplative during the return trip to the Crossings. There was no longer any use in denying that he had expected to die in the confrontation beneath Brace. His new lease on life left him strangely aimless for the first time in many years.
Ezekia can feel the change almost immediately upon his return. Her link to Dramm is strangely quiet. The sorcerer's emotions are still present, as they always were within her mind, but they uniquely are muted or still. The buzzing of Dramm's obsessions had filled her mind for almost a year now, and its sudden absence left a silence that was unsettling after so long.
With the Long Mother's curse broken, Dramm's vitality is quick to return. His body is bolstered by the healing magic that suffuses him and his recovery requires only minimal rest. By the end of the first week, all that remains of the violent assault on his body are several thin lines across his abdomen from the Mother's final retribution.
Dramm spends much of his recovery time with Ezekia. It was comforting to finally have a chance to be with her without the shadows that had plagued them up to now. Several nights of contemplation stir Dramm to gather his courage one night on the balcony of the restored manor. They had been enjoying the time together in relative peace these past few days.
"I've been thinking about what to do with everything I have learned." Dramm starts, "Until now I've always aimed my magic to selfish ends. I never really considered what I would do with my knowledge after those ends were accomplished. I guess I thought it would die with me. Seems like a waste, doesn't it?"
Dramm chuckles nervously before falling silent. The joke held more truth than he was comfortable admitting to Ezekia, and knowing she could sense it felt vulnerable. He can't help but glance at Ezekia in the moonlight. He always loved how it played across her eyes.
"It's strange, but after spending so much time with everyone here in the Crossings, I feel obligated to put that power to proper use. I never felt that way before." He eventually says, "I haven't got any idea of how to apply any of it in a way that helps anyone but myself. Left to me, I would simply fade away in a quiet life and all the good I could do would go with me. It seems to me that you were always the one passionate about helping others. It's what brought me to you in the first place."
Dramm's hand finds Ezekia's on the railing. He turns to face Ezekia, smiling warmly.
"Finding you is what truly brought me back from Brace." Dramm blushes, embarrassed to say the words aloud. "I want to be there to help you as you realize that passion. You inspire me to find my own. To be more than I am. I want to always return to you."
Dramm produces a simple silver band. A moonflower is delicately etched into polished metal. Dramm coughs awkwardly, clearly uncertain of whether to kneel or stand or exactly what to say next. He settles on standing with one hand holding the ring, the other holding hers. He meets her eyes.
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
Dramm assists Joy with the materials she requires, gathering what he is told and providing her with meals to restore her energy. The magic is taxing on Joy's mind, but she is strong throughout. It is a truly miraculous sight to see her breath life into the inanimate forms. Even the air around them hangs heavy and still in reverence.
"You have a good heart, Joy." Dramm says when the children finally depart. He watches the last one walk down the street into a new life. "I wonder what you will do with it in time."
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
Dramm is holding his dagger in one hand and the glass cage in the other when he enters the cellar. He could feel the Mother's presence growing, and it scratched inside his mind with voices he could not quite make out. He steeled himself, and entered the room with the altar that had set all of this in motion.
Thomassan had been a faithful servant of the Long Mother his entire life. Dramm now wielded the same knife that Thomassan had used to cut off his fingers and offer them to the Mother. Thomassan had been there when Dramm's soul was tainted forever.
I was right. The summoning is turning the boy into her! That means her essence connects to him. I can KILL her! Everything else seems to fall away. There is only the Thomassan, the Mother, and Dramm. Ezra had made Dramm the key to the ritual, and he knew this was a moment of vulnerability. He knew what to do.
"The Mother is a monster, and she dies here, Thomassan!" Dramm roars! He holds the cage before him and his tattoos flare with power. He begins an incantation, drawing on the essence possessing the Flood boy. Dramm begins his exorcism, mixing the incantation with the one written in Elvish on the glass prison.
You can't hide any longer. It's time to end this.
Fast Turn: Cast Exorcism on the Flood child, empowered for boons upon completion.
The obsession pulls at Dramm, his focus narrows to a pin point. He must kill the Long Mother! His tattoos flare and magic begins to lash out, but Dramm's obsession takes over and he does not move.
Then something flashes in his mind. A face, only for a moment. Ezekia's face. Suddenly he realizes what is about to happen. He forces the magic to obey him.
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
Dramm's slight form seethes with fury at Selgaer's biting words, and Imedren's response falls on deaf ears for the time being. He draws himself up, toe to toe with the Faun. The past several days had been too much and his anger takes over.
"You leap onto the back of a flesh-melting monstrosity, and it's my fault for using my magic to aid you?! Then you've the stones to call me a coward for it?" Dramm snaps back, eyes blazing. "I have slaughtered men, beasts, demons, devils, and fey. I was along side you when the hag was laid low with the help of my magic. You weren't complaining as I set your bones and stopped your bleeding. I am no puppet, and I am no coward."
He jams one angry finger into the Faun's chest.
"But what about YOU, Selgaer? Did you think of anyone else when you were flying through the air? Or were you just thinking about how that trophy would look mounted on your wall?" Dramm can't seem to stop himself in his anger.
"You think I'm a coward? Well I think you're just trying to impress Uruuna, and you're willing to kill yourself to feel like a hero again. I'd tell you to take your own advice, but I think Rena has that already taken care of."
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
Spoiler is a bit for Dramm while on the train, everyone can read it. Just wanted to save space for the combat.
Dramm Rides the Rails:
Dramm settles himself against a window to listen to the rhythmic rattle of the great engine along the tracks. The comforting sound offered time to slow his mind and order his thoughts and the heat is soothing. Things had been happening very quickly in the past months.
"I like to think Ezekia knows you care, despite your distance." A familiar voice snaps Dramm out of his reverie. Anophth sits on one of the nearby seats, a wide grin across his furry face and cane twirling.
"You're... you're not real. I'm seeing things again."
"That's no way to treat a friend!" The goblin chuckles, smile never dipping. "I'm as real as I need to be, I would say!"
Anophth hops down from the seat and knocks the tip of his cane against the floor for dramatic effect.
"Sounds real enough. Besides, we both know you're more worried about Ezekia than me. You left the city in a rush, and with everything that's happening..." The Goblin sighed sadly with tired shrug. "But don't worry, she knows."
Anophth makes a jaunty trip to seat himself next to Dramm and settles his cane on the along the aisle. Despite the insanity of it, Dramm has missed Anophth. Seeing him here was oddly comforting. With a sigh Dramm buries his face in his hands, rubbing vigorously before simply resting there.
"I hope she does. I've been far away recently, she has seen so little of me in my research." Dramm says uncomfortably. "I've been keeping after your shop. I... I didn't want anyone to forget you."
Anophth puts a furry hand on the Sorcerer's shoulder.
"I know you have, Dramm. Very kind of you, but it's a bit silly to look after the shop, you know. That was my dream, not yours. You always take on too much and spread yourself too thin. It's like Ezekia and Joy are always telling you, you shouldn't try to do it all yourself. You can't be everywhere, Dramm."
"I know, I know." Dramm grumbles in frustration from behind his palms. Admitting weakness always made him sore. "I can't let this go, Anophth. If I do, what's left? You're right, I can't be everywhere and I'm starting to lose track of it all, but if I stop..."
Anophth picks up where Dramm trails off.
"If you stop, the Long will destroy everything you care about." Dramm freezes in place. Anophth's voice was not kind or understanding. It was excited. Anticipating. "You can't stop now Dramm, but you're in too deep to escape and you can't be everywhere to protect everyone."
Dramm jerks up from his hands to find Anophth's hooked nose inches from his face. The clawed fingers grab both sides of his head, sharp nails digging into the flesh. Unnatural strength holds Dramm's head in place, preventing him from recoiling.
"You're not Anophth? I'm dreaming!"
"Of course you are, Dramm. Trapped like a rat in a fight you can't win." "Anophth" cackles cruelly. "You can't be everywhere, but don't worry, I will be where you aren't!"
Blood trickles down Dramm's face. His attempt to tear free are pitiful against the Goblin's supernatural strength.
"Look at me, Dramm. LOOK AT ME!" Anophth holds the Sorcerer's gaze with his one burning eye. "Remember what happened to Anophth when you left him alone? It's only the beginning. What did your kind call those who bore my mark? The Weeping Mothers, yes. What do you think, Dramm? Rena would make a fine one. How delectable her misery and anger would taste as she wasted away believing that her child might survive. How ruined she would be when the faun is born still, claimed to serve me. Perhaps Ezekia could be next."
Dramm's eyes widen in fear and rage. The Goblin cackles again.
"The longer this goes, the worse things will be for you Dramm. There is another way that might save them, a way that might spare them. Do you still have the knife?"
In his mind, Dramm hears an echoing, rasping voice again.
"Cruinnich thugam, feòil air chall air àiteachadh agus fàs. Tha am Màthair ag iarraidh ort tilleadh. Cuimhnich air an adhbhar agad, agus thoir biadh dha na beathaichean acrach."
Translation: Gather to me, Lost Flesh, cultivated and grown. The Mother asks you to return. Remember your purpose, and feed the starving beasts.
Slow Turn: Move away, cast Force Field.
Dramm snaps awake with Joy's scream. His wild eyes land on the Children.
"Everywhere, even when I'm asleep. No, no I'm awake now." Dramm drags himself to his feet and pulls his knife. Dramm quickly backs away and erects a defensive magical barrier. He almost runs into the second Imedren, but the Elder sorcerer shoves him aside to continue casting. Dramm does a double take in his confusion, but decides now is not the time to press the issue.
Hunting me while I sleep. But what is this, they don't look the same. They're changing.
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
The death of Toothsome Maera leaves Dramm in contemplative place. The Hag had delivered the Children to the Crossings, something Dramm was not even aware could be done. He dreaded hearing of families searching for missing sons and daughters in the coming weeks.
Worse, it seemed that Selgaer was correct. The Long Mother's corruption really was bound to Dramm's magic. Every time he expended himself significantly in magic, the Long would find a door to creep into his mind. His body was deteriorating quickly now and he was dangerously thin. He slept so little that even his potent Life magic could not stave off constant fatigue. He began to hear and see things that were not there, and at times he loses his focus.
Dramm busied himself in his work. His body wasted, but his magic continued to become more potent. He experiences a breakthrough in restorative magics. However, his mind pays a heavy cost or the knowledge. One night, Dramm nods off while writing at Ezekia's home. When the witch returns, a tall shadowy creature with the face of a wolf and the body of an emaciated woman stands over the sorcerer. It lowers large jaws to take a hungering bite out of Dramm's sleeping form. Flesh tears away, and Dramm groans in pain but he does not wake. When Ezekia makes herself known, the shadowy beast gives a raspy, sadistic chuckle and then speaks.
"My time of harvest nears, and errant flesh will be returned to me. I have cultivated this feast. There is no denying my hunger now."
The shadow then melts away.
============================
After the visit from the phantom, Dramm focuses on keeping himself busy to keep his mind away from the destruction facing him. When Tabog approaches him with a plan to help Imedren in his search for a scroll to reverse the effects on Uruuna and Selgaer, Dramm quickly agrees.
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
Dramm tries to flag down Selgaer and Joy before they enter the forests.
"Once we go inside the forest, we're in her realm. We should take some time to rest and enter when we are prepared. We probably won't be allowed a rest inside without her minions falling upon us."
While this was true, Dramm also dreaded entering the forest with Nutmeg in tow. The child's appearance was unexpected and his overprotective nature simply would not allow him to reconcile the boy's presence in such a dangerous place.
With the many-armed abominations dead, the group had a moment to breath. Dramm took the opportunity to talk to the father and son. He had been mulling the situation as Tabog quietly dispatched the creatures.
"I have an idea." He announces while digging in his pockets. "Tabog, you managed to convince Caribdus to give you that scroll. The one that merges an object into flesh."
Dramm produces his iron coin.
"Fae magic does not function when in contact with iron. We will be busy killing the Hag's guards. If Nutmeg can use the scroll to meld the iron with her flesh, she will be unable to cast her magic. I may be able to interrupt her attempts to counter any spells."
Despite the bold proposition, Dramm looks uncomfortably between the father and son.
"Nutmeg, I taught you magic because I was afraid that one day we may not come back. I started because you almost died on this very lake last year, Tabog. Your son needed to be able to take care of himself." Dramm glances at Tabog with a pained look. "That means that this is my fault. I didn't trust you to look after your own child. I also didn't trust Joy to defend herself when she wanted to help. I was wrong both times before. Nutmeg should be trusted to do this for us."
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
Before descending into the well, Dramm provides some minor healing for Imedren.
"I've got enough for the day. We shouldn't risk anything." He quickly carves a gentle, soothing glow from the air.
Imedren: Minor healing, potent spell. Heal half your healing rate and then heal the additional bonus below. Empowered Healing:2d6 ⇒ (2, 5) = 7 Strain Check:1d20 + 3 - 1d6 ⇒ (3) + 3 - (4) = 2
Self: Minor healing, potent spell. Arcane Armor, extended spell. Force field, extended spell. Results in 1 strain retained after checks.
Dramm quickly administers his magics, deftly flicking away excess energy as it rushes forth in amber explosions. Wounds close, armor forms, and a force field hums to life. Magical energy suffuses Dramm with a gentle glow. With a final flick upward... nothing happens. Dramm curses under his breath in annoyance.
"So damn fickle. Never the same path twice and always changing in direction." He flicks his hand upward again, but to no avail. "How the hell do you do it, Imedren? I never seem to get a grasp."
He continues to mutter as the group clambers down the rope.
Horror Save:1d20 + 3 - 1d6 ⇒ (11) + 3 - (6) = 8
The darkness clings to his eyes inside the small cave. It's only when a patchwork monstrosity looms from the darkness that Dramm's vision finally adjusts.
"No! Anophth killed you!" Dramm scrambles in fear, carving wildly with his knife. "He killed you! HE KILLED YOU!"
His voice rises to a fearful scream. Energy blazes forth as he dashes a tiny, glowing effigy.
Fast turn, cast and empowered Ruin spell. Taking the extra damage bonus, and the target makes a str save or becomes fatigued for one minute. Dramm is frightened and is not moving this round.
Dramms tattoos glow brighter and energy courses through the amber in his arms. Licks of multicolored flames threaten to tear free of his skin, but for now they hold.
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
During the quieter months, Dramm speaks to Gunderson multiple times. With some help and direction, he is able to locate a smith with the required skill to properly forge the viridum ore. The craftsmanship does not come cheap, and Dramm makes contact with Dreen. It is fortunate that the group has so publicly shown their efficacy or Dreen may not have loaned Dramm the 3 gold pieces he needed to purchase smith's work. It seems adventurers have a habit of dying before paying off their debts. The sorcerer strikes a deal, confident he can earn enough to repay the debt quickly.
It is difficult to leave his knife in the hands of the smith. Dramm has no trouble attuning a new blade for casting, but nothing feels quite the same wielding a replacement.
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
Wrapping up some Downtime stuff now that I have a chance. After Quick's capture:
Apparently, news had gotten around about the group's involvement in taking down Quick. Perhaps it was through some of the Cloaks that assisted in the raids. They knew Uruuna performed missions with her husband and the others. No doubt her organization of the arrests garnered notice. Dramm found eyes sometimes watched him in the street. He was never sure if they were appreciative or vengeful.
To distract himself, Dramm renovated Anophth's old shop. A new sign hung out front: "Another Man's Treasure". The shop remained furnished with odds and ends that Anophth had collected, and Dramm did his best to maintain the stock. He lacked the Goblin's fast speech or keen entrepreneurial eye, and the shop only managed to stay afloat at best. Dramm occasionally traded in strange, macabre, or unusual items that people brought into the location. He spent most of his time studying at the counter and inviting Nutmeg to work there. Ezekia could see that Dramm kept careful track of the boy.
Spending:
Wealthy Lifestyle (for mansion and shop upkeep)
1 Investigator - 1 month
Special Purchase - See DM
New armor - replacing old set
Lantern
Net
Holy Water
Ore Refinement (Viridium and Iron)
Trap Parts
Dress - High Quality (see clothing)
Not long after the raids are completed and Paulus resigns from his station, Dramm find Joy sitting at the great table in the mansion where the group plans its outings. He sets a wrapped package on the table and seats himself next to Joy.
"I got this for you. Celebrating what you've done in the city. I meant to give it to you on the island, but Rena's announcement interrupted things." He hands her the bundle. Undoing the twine reveals finely made dress. The fabric is soft and light and silver embroidery creates gently twisting vines and leaves at the hem.
Under the dress is a pair of silk-like gloves that match the dress. Their dainty and delicate appearance and silver embroidery are accentuated by the tiny leaves at the hem that move and twist ever so slightly, as if in a breeze. Under the wrist is the name "Joy Summers".
"They're durable. Very durable. You can garden with them and they won't tear. Don't think you can even get them dirty with normal soil. The dress is not durable. You should thank Caribdus. He helped me find them through an old associate of his, a woman to the North. I think he's fond of you and the things you do for the Crossings."
Dramm pulls out his manuscript, makes a couple of quick notes and then flips to a diagram on magical storage in the body.
Joy: The gloves are magical. 1/day you can cast a spell and receive 1 boon on the attack roll it uses, or apply 1 bane to an enemy challenge roll to resist it. This functions as per the Sorcery ability, but without Strain or risk of explosion.
The rest of Dramm's downtime is spent studying or with Ezekia. He buries himself in his manuscript while at the shop with Nutmeg or reading about healing. Lucretia's visit inspired him to advance his knowledge in mundane medicine, a task easier said than done. Though he could not restore the mind, Dramm had found ways to rapidly unravel magic within a person's body to release the energy in a controlled and rejuvenating process. If the healers of the city will allow him, Dramm spends time visiting hospitals and healers where he practices his craft. He makes notes as doctors clean wounds, set bones, and perform surgeries. At times, he offers his assistance with magical power. The staff is grateful for his use of healing magic, but somewhat unnerved by Dramm's willingness to experiment. More than once a doctor brings him to an abrupt halt for overstepping bounds and has to eject him from the facility.
As time goes on, it becomes clear that Dramm is suffering from his nightmares. The visit to the alchemist with Imedren helped to acquire a sedative. Despite this, Dramm insisted that it was not always effective and the dreams sometimes found their way through the sleepless drought. Ezekia notices a constant hunger in Dramm. Not emotionally, she had become oddly accustom to the intensity of his focus and drives. Dramm carried food with him often, and could be seen absentmindedly chewing while thinking. At times, the group catches Dramm checking the stock of the mansion larders. It is almost a relief when the next mission comes.
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
"It was good. She cherishes the time you had together. Cares about you." Dramm's tone suddenly shifts from childishly spiteful to dead serious. "Then she chose me."
Dramm rises from the chair to glare at Rena from over the table. An amber glow emanates from under the cloth over his arms.
"You will respect that choice." His eyes burn into hers, daring any contradiction.
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
Will:1d20 + 3 - 1d6 ⇒ (2) + 3 - (2) = 3
His brush with death was just too close. The healing magic was all but gone, and the few spells he had left were as dangerous to himself as the creatures. Undead had nearly killed all of them before. It was all too much.
"We should run. We need to run." Dramm's voice isn't as steady as it normally is. "I don't have the magic to fight these things. Get the survivors moving, fast."
His hands shake, but he carves out a spell. The skin on Dramm's hand sizzles and steams without the protection of his force field. He touches the wall and the adhesive spittle crumbles, then dissolves. The cloud leaves a stinking smell behind.
"Run!" Dramm barks at the miners. "Surface, NOW!"
Dramm expends a casting of evaporate to quickly free the miners.
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
Fast Turn: Fire crossbow
"New ones! Hierarchy? Warrior class? Drones, flying scouts, now soldiers. A nest. Everything collected." Dramm sheaths his knife and lifts his crossbow. He levels a poisoned bolt at one of the larger insects.
The incident at the tower darkens Dramm. He becomes withdrawn upon returning to the city and his obsessive studies deepen. He delves into tomes about the Fey in search of methods to combat them. A tome on alchemical materials leads Dramm to investigating metals that could expand on the effects iron creates in contact with Fey.
Dramm barely eats or sleeps during the next month. He stops cooking almost entirely, spending long nights reading and theorizing. His spells grow quickly in power, but his eyes become dark and unhealthy. The group hardly finds him outside of his home unless he is researching or practicing. Even Ezekia sees Dramm less, and when she does she can tell his healing is no longer keeping up with his "practice" in Destruction. Perhaps healing is not being applied at all.
Ezekia:
Ezekia knows instantly that something is wrong when Dramm returns. She can feel his anger and pain at losing Anophth. Every once in a while when his attention is elsewhere, she notices a deeply buried shame festering inside him. The shame sparks fear, then dread, then defiant rejection in an attempt to regain control. It all settles into a cold, familiar hatred.
Several weeks later, Dramm receives an odd package delivered by a olive-skinned messenger. He reveals a mace crafted from a light purple metal. Carved into the handle is the name "Jezzail".
This Spoiler is cool for everyone to read. Just wanted to keep this cleaner.
Downtime Event:
Dramm shows something new in his most recent Destruction spells: finesse. A cold morning about a month after the return from the tower, Dramm is in the outskirts of town in a small field with some battered wooden targets. His eyes are dark circles and there are already several dark bruises and cuts on his body.
He takes a deep breath and draws his knife delicately across the morning air. Soft strands are left behind. They twist and dance, writhing almost as if alive. Dramm's eyes narrow as he enforces his will on the strands and forces the magic towards a target. The image of a broken body and bloodied fine clothing worm their way into Dramm's mind. The strands become crystalline in appearance and then explode into released magical power. The backlash opens a gash on Dramm's forehead. The amber in his arms flares with his temper. The stone has consumed more of the veins.
Dramm clenches a fist in frustration when the image in his mind falls away only to be replaced by another. This time the face of an imagined queen. Dramm had heard of her from Anophth once. At the time he had been curious about her mythical beauty. Now he wanted nothing more than to destroy it. A nearby chunk of wood explodes violently and a bruise appears on Dramm's collarbone. With an angry grunt Dramm shatters another target. The area around him rings with loud explosions as his magic flares again and again.
"Dramm... you should stop." Ezekia's voice startles Dramm. He whirls, dagger glowing. Dramm's grip relaxes a little when he recognizes her face. The link between them is loud, and she feels waves of pain, anger, guilt, fear, and pain. He turns back to the targets and Ezekia feels the cold focus again.
"No. I need more. They won't come with me to get Anophth's bones. I have to do it alone." He grunts as his skin cracks on one arm from the spells. Another burst of magic bakes the cracked, blackened ground.
"You need to rest, Dramm. Anophth- The name causes another explosion. That strange cycle of emotions pours over Ezekia again in quick succession.
"No!" The magic pours back into Dramm, healing wounds and refreshing his reserves. "Someone has to set this right. I have to set this right. I need to set it right."
He sets himself and begins to carve the delicate strands into the air again. Ezekia feels a flood of hatred mixed with the cold dread of a festering fear that refuses to be buried. His focus drowns out the world around him. The strands glide towards the target. The face of a beautiful Elven queen is clear in Dramm's mind.
"Dramm?" It's not Ezekia's voice that causes the strands to wrench wildly. The gentle voice cuts through Dramm's concentration, and his eyes glance involuntarily to see Joy. Ezekia feels the icy rage in Dramm lash out blindly. It's enough to cause the spell to slip. Dramm desperately attempts to control the threads as they writhe and lash out wildly. All but one becomes crystal before detonating. The last remains delicate, but pulls taught.
"Dramm?" Joy's eyes are filled with fear. A strand connects her cheek to Dramm. The skin crackles and becomes a red mist. The scream fills Dramm with horror. Ezekia feels something inside Dramm finally break, that insistent fear realized.
He rushes forward and kneels down to the crying girl. His magic quickly eases the pain, but it does nothing for the fear. Dramm backs away quickly from Ezekia and Joy.
"I... I promised. I promised not let anything happen to her." Dramm buries his face in his hands. Ezekia feels his regret and shock at himself. She also feels the sickening chill of a horrible revelation inside Dramm. He looks at his hands as if for the first time, then back to Ezekia and Joy.
"I... I'm..." He cannot find the words. He just hangs his head.
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
"GAH!" Dramm shakes the beetle loose with a shout. He grabs his ax from his back and swipes at the nearest swarm with the flat of the blade before retreating back to Anophth.
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
Downtime: Dramm levels and spends two gold crowns. The first is to raise himself to a wealthy lifestyle, the other is dedicated to the rebuilding of the manor we now have access to.
Dramm becomes more concerned about the threat to the city after the events in Katandramus' manor. The praise of the council for their heroic deeds in combating the plague falls on deaf ears for Dramm. He makes his feelings on the matter clear to the council.
"Everyone is meat to a demon."
He receives the gold crowns with far more interest. The experience in the temple changed Dramm, and his hunt for power becomes more focused. As with his conversation with Imedren, he expresses the belief that the city will need more powerful weapons if they're going to stop the Brotherhood. As such, he starts his preparations.
Within the first week, Dramm's spending increases dramatically. His sparse living arrangements remain the same. Instead, he pours a full gold crown into his expenses, making use of the political and educational connections associated with money. Books, materials, papers, and theories on magical study and history find themselves delivered to Dramm's apartment. He pours through them desperately, searching for rituals or artifacts that would increase the reach of his magic.
After Tabog secures the deed to the manor, that money begins to go toward rebuilding and stocking the ruined estate.
"We will need a place to strike from."
The other gold crown soon follows as Dramm throws himself in to the preparations.
Intelligence:1d20 ⇒ 14 Silver Savings:1d6 ⇒ 6
Dramm is careful with the gold, making sure it is spent efficiently for their purpose. He turns away more than one poorly written book or building contractor trying to skim a little more silver.
-----
What remains of the new wealth is spent on a surprise for Ezekia. A few days away in a small cottage away from the city, if she is willing. Dramm would like time alone with her to understand more of their new relationship. As the time passes over the next few weeks, their connection allows Ezekia a glimpse into Dramm that is not normally expressed. She finds that his passions and thoughts are quite tumultuous and intense behind a rather plain and disconnected face. When he is with her, he is quite warm (for Dramm) and there is a temporary calm in the storm of emotions.
When he is studying, there is a single minded determination that drowns out the world around him. Through it all, she begins to find a cold, seething thread that winds itself inside him. It is an icy, creeping hatred that never fully dissipates, and it drives him to seek deadly magics.
Let me know how much this costs if there's any additional beyond the 2 gold.
-----
Dramm insists on being present for Anophth's exorcism. He watches the Orc exorcist closely. When the Demon is pulled forth, Dramm is by Anophth's side, healing where he can. Once all is said and done, he appears quite happy for Anophth and his newfound freedom.
Anophth continues to see Dramm often, and Dramm continues to work at the shop when he can. He is mostly relegated to stock and lifting when Anophth finds he is as poor a salesman as expected. His magical knowledge makes acquiring objects and trinkets valuable, however, and he is happy to appraise what he can for the Goblin to sell.
-----
Dramm's encounter with the Wizard's Tower invigorates him. He still speaks with Caribdus often, asking about how he came to be in such a place. The Wizard's considerable skill and library are of great interest to Dramm. Caribdus would find it is hard to deter Dramm's questions and curiosity unless he threatens to expel the young Sorcerer for bothering him. Ezekia would find that Dramm actually enjoys the company of the old man, much to her surprise.
"Talks to me. Lets me talk. Doesn't look at me funny." Dramm would say about Caribdus.
-----
Dramm makes it a point to visit a few members of the council over the next couple of weeks. He even seeks an opportunity to speak to Dreen. He arrives at the office with two objects in tow: A heavy, green metal sword and a necklace. Candace's necklace. He places them both on Dreen's desk with a dark look.
"Katandramus. He did this. I plan on killing him. I haven't forgotten the island. If you want him to pay, help us find him."
-----
Joy's actions to bring Bertram to justice surprises Dramm and impresses him greatly. He listens to the tale with great interest.
"I always underestimate you, and you always show me how wrong I am. This is a lead we didn't expect. I hope the Brown Cloaks extract what we need to know. You never stop surprising us, Joy."
-----
Nutmeg's disappearance hits Dramm very hard. He becomes depressed and desperate. Ezekia can feel a sense of personal failing from him. He spends more than one night wandering the streets and fruitlessly searching. He looks haggard and angry every night when he returns.
"We'll find him Tabog. We'll find him. If someone took him, they won't live long enough to regret it."
As the days pass, Dramm's fears grow in spite of attempting to hide it. He is very worried. Eventually he approaches Joy with something on his mind.
"Joy... Ezekia said to look after you. Keep you safe. Do you have a place to live? Do you want one?" He offers to make room at his own home for the girl with as much privacy as his small apartment can afford.
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
Here's a conversation between Imedren and Dramm at the Purse District checkpoint after clearing out the evil temple. Anyone can read it and respond. Just spoilering it to save some space.
At the Checkpoint:
The trip through the checkpoint is long as the entire group is carefully inspected for wounds and infection. Dramm stands next to Imedren as they're being poked and prodded.
"Isn't it a job though?" Dramm says bluntly.
"Remind me, what conversation is this a part of?"
"Before the madman came into the room with Anophth. You said just act like this was a job." Dramm picks at this fingernails. "Isn't what we do just a job though?"
"Ah... it was meant to help make everyone sell the ploy." He frowns as he contemplates what Dramm was getting at. "Guess the fact it was true just made it that much easier to believe."
"Isn't it for all of us? I never really considered why the others do this until now."
Imedren crossed his arms now. "I mean, I suppose we have been working for the city council for a while now. It's easier to find a place to belong when one has relatively gainful and meaningful employment... I certainly haven't had any luck with either of those things in my other profession."
Dramm nods along with Imedren, crossing his arms as well. "We do a lot of work for the city for decent pay. Seems like good work." His face slowly sinks into concern. "It's not enough though. You saw that thing. It would have shredded us. We need more."
"More what exactly, Dramm? Coin? Equipment and weapons? Better contacts in the city?" He frowns for a moment, eyeing the rest of the group. His gaze lingering on Inquisitor Randolfus and then Anophth. Then his gaze narrowed with a glint in his eye.
"Or do you mean power?" he whispered.
"All of it. Katandramus just sacrificed his home and his identity for only a small summoning. He is preparing for something bigger, and this slip only showed part of his plan. We will need more of all of it." Dramm sits down on a bench to wait for the others. "I don't think Ezekia will run from this place like we should."
"Dramm, what do you think one man is going to accomplish exactly? Sure he might have ruined a small district of a city but he can't destroy it entirely. If you're that worried I'm certain there's some sort of magic we can use to help us find him. That's no reason to run. We'll find his allies and route them out. " He sat down next to Dramm on the bench.
"We'll need to be more proactive than we have been in the future, it's true. This isn't a sit back and wait situation.” Imedren continues, ”So if we want coin, influence, and equipment we'll have to start ingratiating ourselves with the city council more than we have been. Power's trickier, but Ezekia's busy studying the Chaos Shard. We can learn something from that."
Dramm lets out a long sigh.
"One man can destroy a city. He just happened to fail today." Dramm resumes picking at his fingers. "The shards are too unstable. Look what they did to Anophth. My amber... it was only a small part of a whole, and it almost tore me apart when I wielded it. There are other objects in the world like it."
"But don't forget what happened when I used it. It filled me with power, if anything I think it pushed me to new heights that I didn't think were possible." he smiled as he recalled the memory but then he closed his eyes and shook his head. "I suppose that can wait though. If you think we might be able to locate other objects like that though, then let's see what we can find. I work part time in a library now as a research assistant. Maybe I can find something there."
"I'll start searching. Relics exist for this cult as much as they do for us." Dramm drums his fingers on the bench. "Ezekia won't let me leave this job. Probably won't run. We have to keep up with our enemy then."
Imedren nodded encouragingly to Dramm as he declared his intention to stay. Then he looked at Dramm. "Uh... You're doing that thing where you talk in the minimal amount of words again."
Dramm looks back at Imedren and his brow furrows in concentration. Then he takes a large breath.
"You're right, we have to be more proactive. We've seen that the Brotherhood has a base and powerful arcane items. Knowing that, we'll find our own to combat them. It will be very frustrating and painful to work with the council or the guard, but it will be our only option if we want to stay employed. Ezekia means too much to me to leave behind, and she won't leave here because she cares about these people for some reason. I want to be paid if I'm going to do the work. Preferably more. Thanks Imedren." He wheezes a lot by the end.
Imedren looks a little worried and waves his hand at him. "Okay, okay. You don't have to try and get everything out in one breath. Have you ever tried speaking in moderation?"
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
In the shrine
"Destiny? Destiny?!" Dramm is on his feet before he knows it, towering over the Goblin and shouting in fury, "That's what you call it?! Since when was Anophth's 'destiny' written by others? When did you decide to die a slave?! And to the Fae no less?!" He gestures angrily about the room.
"Look what they made! Look at what they build! The Fae tore the flesh from men and made them live that way! The Fae locked corpses inside a shrine to flay and devour our friends! They toyed with dangerous, corrupting magic! They twisted your body, Anophth! S+#% on the BLOODY F%%+ING FAE!"
Dramm smashes the porcelain bowl with his axe in anger before dropping it. He whirls back around to Anophth.
"And you want to give up? You'd rather die a slave than risk being free? You'd let them do this to you?! You'd take on that magic, forget who you are, destroy your body for them?! Abandon us for the whim of some mad monster?! YOU'D LEAVE ME ALONE AGAIN?!" Dramm suddenly throws something at Anophth. It's only then does he realize that his face is wet. An amber stone clatters to the floor, and suddenly the rage is drained from Dramm's face. It's replaced by shock, then fear, then defeat and sadness. He stands frozen for a long moment.
Without a word he bends down and scoops up the remaining chaos shard and turns to leave the shrine.
Later at camp
Dramm doesn't wait for the group. He's already outside and sitting silently at the camp when they arrive. He looks hollow and distant.
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
Heads up, it's a long one.
Anophth and Dramm:
Dramm starts at the outburst, followed by the slow realization that he had pushed Anophth to this point. There is a silence for a while until Dramm finally seems to make a decision.
"Your friend. I see. You think I'd abandon you because you killed him?" Dramm steadies himself, "I... I will share something with you Anophth. I told Ezekia it was a keepsake of my brother's. Between this and the book, it's all I had left of him."
Dramm reaches into his pocket and produces the amber again. He holds it up to the moonlight.
"Did you know that the Forbidden Magics are wild energy? Born of the void, chaotic and mad." He doesn't look at Anophth. "It will warp and twist you if you can't control it. Promise you things, then take it away. Like the creature that took my brother from me." Dramm's eyes glaze a little as he reminisces.
"He was talented, and it promised a lot of things. He even wanted to do good with the power it offered." Dramm hands the rock to Anophth to inspect. "And as far as I can tell, he did everything right. And he still died."
"That stone... it speaks to me, Anophth. Sometimes late at night, when I'm writing my formulas, I can hear insects buzzing. On the darkest nights, I hear a voice, far away and inhuman. It whispers to me about my brother's ritual and the instructions he gave to everyone in the village for their part." Dramm's voice tightens, and it becomes harder for him to speak around the lump in his throat.
"Do you know what my job was, Anophth? I was his older brother, so it had to be me. I was the one who had to drive the knife into his chest. He had to die in order to become what the thing promised." Shame consumes Dramm's face. "So I did it, just like I was supposed to. The magic went wild, and it tore him to pieces. Warped his flesh into unspeakable things while he screamed and changed. Then it violently ripped his body asunder."
"When that stone talks to me, it whispers how it was my fault. My hands didn't move just right. The words or cadence must have been off by some minuscule degree. I was just out of time with the others. That's what it tells me." Finally, Dramm turns to face Anophth.
"I killed my own brother, Anophth. He was the better of us both, and I cut his heart to pieces in blind devotion. That thing is literally all that's left of Ezra, and it's my fault." His face is determined and he looks at Anophth with a burning intensity. "This thing twisted my brother, twisted me, and it poisons my mind. So I decided to take what was left of him, and I would make it my own. I would use it to kill the thing that devoured my brother, body and soul."
Dramm reaches out to Anophth in a rare display of comfort, clasping his shoulder. "No, I don't hate you Anophth. I won't betray you, and I won't hurt you. I am worried for you, friend. I will listen when you need me, and I will ask one thing: What do you want to do now, Anophth? You must decide if this thing will control you, or if you will control it."
Lvl 10 Human Exorcist| HP 29/40| Defense 12 | Strain: 0 | Fortune: No | Strength 13, Agility 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14| Move: 10 | Insanity: 0 | Corruption: 2 | Power: 5 | Status: Normal
In response to TaBog's tagging along in order to visit Ezekia
On the third or fourth "accidental" visit in which TaBog happened to be "In the area", Dramm was just admitted into the hut and setting up when TaBog began making yet another excuse to allow him to join in the lesson. Usually he ignored this, but this time when TaBog made his romantic arguments to stay Dramm instead let out an unexpected snort of laughter. Before he could stop his mouth he was already muttering "Might just not be her type..." to himself.
A look that could bleed a pig causes Dramm's face to pale and he very quickly silences himself and gets back to work.
