tahl liadon's page

"...and you have the list of hits?" one says to the other.

"it's right here. you have the poison darts?" he hands over a folded parchment and retrieves a small metallic box in return. "you are certain these are the gargoyles' teeth?"

"i am one of the few who can authorize their use. make sure you leave the evidence, but don't make it too obvious..."

"just do your job and i'll do mine! the names on that list: they will all be there tonight. the toast will be at nine bell... that night scales venom must be mixed in just right before and no sooner. its efficacy is very brief, but the potency is fatal. that formula is exclusively night scales'. they will be implicated without a doubt."

"by the time they figure it out, we'll be... wait! what was that? did you hear that?" the two men stop dead, each drawing his weapon.

fangess curses under her breath. why now! her stomach churns again and a sharp growling sound echoes in the dead silence. should have eaten something!

the two men attempt to vacate. they charge directly into each other out of sheer bad luck, knocking each other off their feet.

fangess takes the opportunity to vacate the inopportune situation, having heard too much. she hops the boxes and exits the nearby window, clamoring up towards the rickety roof. she begins to rush across the length as quickly and quietly as possible. half way, her instincts tell her to stop; the footing doesn't feel right just about... here! before she can react, the surface gives and drops from under her feet. as she falls through, she sees a gaping hole in the ceiling, affording the a view of the starry night.

she hears a loud crash and her back feels like it has been slammed by an ogre, knocking the breath from her. fangess's vision dims and the warehouse falls deeper into darkness.

fangess comes to. how long have i been knocked out? she feels around in the darkness and her hand touches a metallic box. she instinctively grasps and shoves it in her belt pouch. she can hear voices coming from outside and flickering torch light, slowly providing low light inside the warehouse. she reviews the scene: the roof had collapsed on the two men -- from their lack of movement, she can only come to one conclusion -- killing them. fangess notices some of the darts are scattered on the floor (the box must have come undone and spilled its contents). she sees a gargoyle's tooth sticking out from the leg of one the men.

the voices outside are agitated and getting closer, their torches and sunrods illuminating a large area immediately outside. fangess can see the warehouse's interior more clearly, having already been accustomed to the darkness. she spots a small opening from wood decay. she heads for it as the warehouse door crashes open; the warehouse is lit brightly. "there! i see someone!" a voice calls out. fangess limps to the hole and squeezes herself through. "it's a halfling and she's getting away!" she turns around to gauge her distance between herself and the men. through the hole she spots one of them picking up a parchment and opening it. "she's an assassin! get her!"

fangess feels the strain on her side as she runs through the thicket, often looking back and changing her direction away from the search lights. then suddenly, she does not feel the ground beneath her. she feels her body tumbling downward, crashing through debris and rough bumps. she ends up face down, her mouth full of sand. her body is charged with adrenaline and cannot feel any pain. she looks up and sees a ship in the distance. from the voices and activities, it is about to embark.

fangesss stumbles across the beach and wades into the water on the dark side of the ship. the anchor is being hoisted. she wraps her arm around it and clings tightly. after a moment, the ship begins to float outward, away from the bay. fangess wraps herself around the anchor, finding a good seating position. she gathers herself and takes a deep breath. she looks up and hear activity aboard. she decides to wait until it calms before sneaking aboard.

her heart continues to pound against her chest. fangess feels a sharp pain in her abdomen. fearing the worse, she feels around expecting blood, but instead, a metallic box presses between her weight and the anchor. she shifts her belt pouch and releases a breath of relief. the water splashes gently below her.

finding it rather complicated to explain her side of the story without exposing her spotty past, and subsequently having to take sides, she decided to fake her death and board a merchant ship bound for sandpoint as stowaway. perhaps, she hopes, her anonymity and time with erase that brief endeavors in riddleport.

sandpoint sounds quaint and small enough for a halfling to escape notice -- or even disappear -- and sizable enough, she is sure, with ample purses needing to be liberated.

(full stats available upon invitation to game.)

swortsword: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

as the night progressed, brahma was encouraged by siva to "get her man, once and for all!" so she did. mustering up the courage after a few drinks, brahma finally found herself alone with the bard (a feat in itself, as he was continually surrounded by fans and admirers alike). the bard had other plans for brahma: to add her to his harem -- a bloodthirsty one. using his charms and charisma as his main weapon, the bard played to the will of susceptible victims, isolating and converting them to vampiric thralls.

although victimized and "infected," brahma's body's own arcane constitution wrestled with the vampiric blood that surged through her, maintaining a level of non-vampiric state. the two forces continually exerted each others' supremacy, but neither could maintain dominance. brahma had no knowledge of this "infection," and it didn't manifest itself until she suffered a traumatic psychologically event. brahma witnessed a street skirmish between stern officials and religious zealots: the zealots marched in the street and, without precedent, declared a holy purging, setting off an arcane explosion, mass murdering civilians; they were then, in turn immediately paid in kind, slaughtered by "peace keeping" local militia forces. brahma was caught in the fray and was forced to use her arcane powers to protect herself -- an act which inadvertently killed many by-standers.

the smell of blood and sight of carcasses surged her vampiric inclinations, temporarily overriding the arcane energy that kept it in check. in a trance-like, blood-frenzied state, brahma went on a blood binge that same evening. using her arcane powers, brahma reenacted the scene of the earlier street massacre, creating battles with the seedy and less fortunate creatures of the night. the transformation became a regular event, where brahma often awoke the next day with only dreamlike visions of what had happened the night before. she actually came to believe she was cursed with having regular nightmares in which she killed and lusted for blood, even using her own blood to cause more pain to others.

unbeknownst to her own transformation, the switch had often occurred in times of stress or brahma having witnessed something gruesome. (she was once transformed when having made a wrong turn to the lavatory in a tavern, and instead ended up in the cold storage of recent and butchered kills).

the surreal dreamstates have become debilitating so brahma sought counsel. "the answer you seek..." the oracle spoke for the first time since brahma arrived in the seer's tent, "it is not in your blood, nor in your mind. it is with neither death nor life... it is with the undead child-god. your path ends there: mzali, in the land of the mwangi." with that, the oracle's eyes reverted back to their normal state, no longer white and devoid of irises.

alchemist (druggist)
entrepreneur (dealer)
linguist (fast-talker)
equal opportunist ('go-to lady' for that 'special sauce')
ethnic specialist (goblin clientele)
straight shooter ("what i've got will blow you away.")

word in the street is a certain to-die-for mwangi molded mushroom. hard to get, harder to produce. a dried flake of this fungus provides several hours of "alternate being." no two users report the same experience; all say the same: it's beyond life or death -- being godlike.

ahfemra want to dispel this urban myth. or get some if it actually exists.

as the night progressed, brahma was encouraged by siva to "get her man, once and for all!" so she did. mustering up the courage after a few drinks, brahma finally found herself alone with the bard (a feat in itself, as he was continually surrounded by fans and admirers alike). the bard had other plans for brahma: to add her to his harem -- a bloodthirsty one. using his charms and charisma as his main weapon, the bard played to the will of susceptible victims, isolating and converting them to vampiric thralls.

although victimized and "infected," brahma's body's own arcane constitution wrestled with the vampiric blood that surged through her, maintaining a level of non-vampiric state. the two forces continually exerted each others' supremacy, but neither could maintain dominance. brahma had no knowledge of this "infection," and it didn't manifest itself until she suffered a traumatic psychologically event. brahma witnessed a street skirmish between stern officials and religious zealots: the zealots marched in the street and, without precedent, declared a holy purging, setting off an arcane explosion, mass murdering civilians; they were then, in turn immediately paid in kind, slaughtered by "peace keeping" local militia forces. brahma was caught in the fray and was forced to use her arcane powers to protect herself -- an act which inadvertently killed many by-standers.

the smell of blood and sight of carcasses surged her vampiric inclinations, temporarily overriding the arcane energy that kept it in check. in a trance-like, blood-frenzied state, brahma went on a blood binge that same evening. using her arcane powers, brahma reenacted the scene of the earlier street massacre, creating battles with the seedy and less fortunate creatures of the night. the transformation became a regular event, where brahma often awoke the next day with only dreamlike visions of what had happened the night before. she actually came to believe she was cursed with having regular nightmares in which she killed and lusted for blood, even using her own blood to cause more pain to others.

unbeknownst to her own transformation, the switch had often occurred in times of stress or brahma having witnessed something gruesome. (she was once transformed when having made a wrong turn to the lavatory in a tavern, and instead ended up in the cold storage of recent and butchered kills).

fearing further causing pain and death to undeserving citizens, brahma self-imposed a leave-of-absence, seeking more wild territory where she can understand and control the affliction.

as the night progressed, brahma was encouraged by siva to "get her man, once and for all!" so she did. mustering up the courage after a few drinks, brahma finally found herself alone with the bard (a feat in itself, as he was continually surrounded by fans and admirers alike). the bard had other plans for brahma: to add her to his harem -- a bloodthirsty one. using his charms and charisma as his main weapon, the bard played to the will of susceptible victims, isolating and converting them to vampiric thralls.

although victimized and "infected," brahma's body's own arcane constitution wrestled with the vampiric blood that surged through her, maintaining a level of non-vampiric state. the two forces continually exerted each others' supremacy, but neither could maintain dominance. brahma had no knowledge of this "infection," and it didn't manifest itself until she suffered a traumatic psychologically event. brahma witnessed a street skirmish between stern officials and religious zealots: the zealots marched in the street and, without precedent, declared a holy purging, setting off an arcane explosion, mass murdering civilians; they were then, in turn immediately paid in kind, slaughtered by "peace keeping" local militia forces. brahma was caught in the fray and was forced to use her arcane powers to protect herself -- an act which inadvertently killed many by-standers.

the smell of blood and sight of carcasses surged her vampiric inclinations, temporarily overriding the arcane energy that kept it in check. in a trance-like, blood-frenzied state, brahma went on a blood binge that same evening. using her arcane powers, brahma reenacted the scene of the earlier street massacre, creating battles with the seedy and less fortunate creatures of the night. the transformation became a regular event, where brahma often awoke the next day with only dreamlike visions of what had happened the night before. she actually came to believe she was cursed with having regular nightmares in which she killed and lusted for blood, even using her own blood to cause more pain to others.

unbeknownst to her own transformation, the switch had often occurred in times of stress or brahma having witnessed something gruesome. (she was once transformed when having made a wrong turn to the lavatory in a tavern, and instead ended up in the cold storage of recent and butchered kills).

the surreal dreamstates have become disabilitating so brahma sought counsel. "the answer you seek..." the oracle spoke for the first time since brahma arrived in the seer's tent, "it is not in your blood, nor in your mind. it is with neither death nor life... it is with the undead child-god. your path ends there: mzali, in the land of the mwangi." with that, the oracle's eyes reverted back to their normal state, no longer white and devoid of irises.