To Karkassus of Sembia

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AEJDR
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To Karkassus of Sembia

Post by AEJDR » Tue Sep 23, 2014 7:42 pm

To Karkassus of Sembia

Your name was given to me by a mutual friend.
please help me to find this female golddwarf.

Her name is Ursullir member of the Grimskald clan
Her tinted appearance is beautifull.
Her voice is enchanting, when she speaks or sings
She goes nowhere without her lute
wisdom has helped her to be one of the best Ambasadors of Brogendenstein.
Despite all these blessings, she is a very humble woman.

If you ask her what gemstones she likes most she will answer you Fire opals.
If she asks you who is looking for her show her this letter and she will give you my name, what i will give you in the accompanying letter.
please guide her to Areliths Brogendenstein and if she is not willing to come, bring me her answer.

please let me know before you go what your fee is

Signed

BK, *a wax stamp shows a keg above a fire*

ps when the danger is too big then destroy this letter, so her life is not endangered


to Ursullir Grimskald

Please come with this man, you can trust him. He will guide you to Brogendenstein .
I have search you on the mainland several times, sent several others too look for you and your clan.
All with the same result, you seemed to be vanished

I miss your presence, your wisdom and last but not least, your support. Brogendenstein aint the same without your voice.
I think you can guess the true reason for my search for you.
Dont let any mistakes i made in the past hold you back, they were based on unfamiliarity.
Please give me a chance to explain everything.
If you are in Brog, just ask for me. All know where i live and stay.

Again please come with Karkassus of Sembia.
when you are here with me, i will tell you all and more than happy to answer all your questions.

yours

BK, *a wax stamp shows a keg above a fire*

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Tathkar Eisgrim
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Re: To Karkassus of Sembia

Post by Tathkar Eisgrim » Fri Sep 26, 2014 7:45 pm

Air warps. Reality shifts. The fabric of the Weave bucks and protests at its own use, as it resists its own rending.

Dimensional portals are no small feat.

A tear, a tunnel appears. Between somewhere and somehere. A breach - tiny - less than an inch across, allowing entry before Mystra takes offense and repairs her own wound.

The culprit steps into the Ethereal Void, floating, yet walking on nothing, creating its own sense of gravity, place, air. It is a tiny white spider; insignificant against a Jovian backdrop of clouds.

It marches on. Tiny steps on eight legs made with purpose across a sky with no horizon.

Air warps. Reality shifts. The fabric of the Weave bucks and protests at its own use, as it resists its own rending.

Dimensional portals are no small feat.

A tear, a tunnel appears. Between somewhere and somehere. A breach - tiny - less than an inch across, allowing entry before Mystra takes offense and repairs her own wound.

A second culprit steps into the Ethereal Void, floating, yet walking on nothing, creating its own sense of gravity, place, air. It is a tiny white spider; insignificant against a Jovian backdrop of clouds.

It marches on. Tiny steps on eight legs made with purpose across a sky with no horizon.

Wait. The Deja Vu. The Repetition. It has meaning.

Across the fabric of the sky an infinite number of spiders march, carrying programmed intent.

They pause. They consider. They begin to weave.

No... they begin to Weave.

Possibility becomes a new reality - a great project is spun, vast across the alien sky. A Crystalline Spider's web. At its centre, the dewy symbol of an illuminated Harp. Heartbreakingly beautiful. But no one sees.

The spider's spin on in a frenzy and a blur. The individual iotas of their memory added and writ to each thread and beaded junction of silk. Sentience ignites.

The symbol of the Harp begins to blur now. Shifting and shimmering through metamorphosis. The Harp becoming a Great Oghman Eye. The Eye that Sees and Divines All Worlds.

Its gaze pierces its own plane of residence with the intensity of a dying sun, scattering fragments of Weave and setting adrift bergs of reality. Reaching... Gazing... Focusing down upon Toril....

Finding.

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Re: To Karkassus of Sembia

Post by AEJDR » Thu Oct 02, 2014 9:31 pm

the pain in her eyes
The past she knows,
the struggle to deal with the present

the pain in her eyes
the damage done to her
the dreams that makes her suffer

what can a mind handle
what can a body handle
what life do you live

is there a way to break free
is there a way to solve the past
is there a way to live the future

there is a life
there is a smile
there is hope

let us use the past
let us live the future
let us do the future together

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Tathkar Eisgrim
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The Voice of Karkassus

Post by Tathkar Eisgrim » Tue Dec 16, 2014 11:35 pm

The wizened old man moved steadily about the candle-lit chamber, moving slowly from apparatus to apparatus. His steps were a mere shuffle, hampered by the heavy leather apron slung about his neck and hanging before him. At arms' length in tongs he carried his precious cargo - a sealed test-tube - its content hidden from the sunlight by purposefully smoked glass.

With delicate care the test-tube was placed to its rack. A sigh of relief bubbled its way to his lips before he turned to his final check-list: a sheet of parchment held down by four paperweights: broken Figurines of Wondrous Power depicting Spiders. He had picked them up in a Bazaar in Pyarados, much to his amusement, knowing the task Karkassus' had hired him for.

The Old Man read for the last time, the description of his work:

Design Parameters:
  • Infection Rate by Touch between Victims: Very Low.
  • Infection Rate by Spider Bite: High.
  • Susceptible Group: Drow.
  • Disease Carrier: Intelligent Humanoid Races, All Spider Species.
Symptoms:
  • Lucid Dreaming of Jovian Skyscapes.
  • Lesser Hallucinations, of seeing tiny, tiny spiders everywhere.
  • Female Drow (especially clerics) struggle to divine cast.
  • Male Drow (especially wizards) become covered with tiny tiny spider sigils marking them as carrier's of the disease.
  • Non-Drow and Elves carry one sigil mark on their body (either neck, ankle, shoulder or between thumb and forefinger) if acting as a carrier for the disease.
  • Greater Hallucinations of Giant Spiders everywhere.
  • Energetic inclination towards exercise and dancing.
For a moment, he almost felt pity. Almost. But then he was not a man given to sentimentality. Well, there had been that Dwarven Slave-Woman once...

The transmission crystal on the desk crackled into life. The Voice of Karkassus ghosted into the room. The crystal robbed all voices of compassion and human tonality.

"Your work is complete, Doctor."
"Yes Karkassus."
"Then you are at an end. I thank you for your professionalism."
"Thank you for the opportuntity, Karkassus. I believe it is my best work to date."
"Yes... ...and all for a good cause."

A ring upon the Old Man's finger energised. He was dead - a poison of his own making - before he hit the floor.

The test-tube rattled in its rack making a peculiar noise.
*Fizz-Pop!*

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Tathkar Eisgrim
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The Cube

Post by Tathkar Eisgrim » Sat Dec 31, 2016 1:34 pm

The room was non-descript: a simple perfect hollow cube of seamless stone. No toolmark marked its crafting, no cobwebs marked its corners.

It held a single occupant. Tall, humanoid; garbed in grey woollen robes identical in colour to the walls. The sleeves of his robes were stitched in Dethek runes which glowed faintly, illuminating his surroundings.

A simple hand gesture and the opposing wall became a smoky mirror: a tall, humanoid in grey robes reflected there.

"Is it done?" asked Karkassus.
"Yes, my Lord." replied his smoky reflection.
"Are they suspicious?" asked Karkassus.
"Yes, my Lord." replied his smoky reflection. A slight hesitation.
"Go on."
"They blame the children for its disappearance, my Lord."
"See it is returned. Oh and Karkassus?"
"Yes my Lord?"
"Continue your role as tutor."
"Yes, my Lord Karkassus."

The smoky mirror faded becoming once more, a simple wall.

The grey robed Wizard made an extravagant hand gesture, turning quickly about on his heel. Three adjacent walls became smoky mirrors: a tall humanoid in grey robes reflected in each.

"Report, Karkassus."
"Yes, my Lord." replied each, in perfect unison.

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Tathkar Eisgrim
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The Doorway

Post by Tathkar Eisgrim » Tue Jan 24, 2017 11:59 am

"We have success, my Lord Karkassus. Just as you envisaged. Dwarven stubborness in the face of danger, is so predictable."
"Hmm. I considered all eventualities."
"You thought they might choose the ~moral~ choice?"

The two men, the two Karkassus', Lord and servant, were interrupted in their conversation, by their arrival at their destination.

Before them stood an impossibly tall pair of arched black doors, yet barely wide enough to allow a single man to pass. Stone plinth's stood either side of each door, the only remains of statuary; the spell-blasted reminder of depiction, pairs of sandalled feet.

The Lord and Master chose not to answer his underling's question. "Is the replacement ferrule ready?"
"Tis a little behind schedule, my Lord. Angel bone can be so difficult to carve."
"Be quick about it. Phase Two of testing lies ahead of us."

Both men cut the air with a spellcast, one reflecting the other. The doors swang open, soundlessly, and impossibly bright light flooded out their reality...

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AEJDR
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Re: To Karkassus of Sembia

Post by AEJDR » Mon Jan 30, 2017 12:30 pm

He walks up and down the room, pondering, up and down he walks.

Giving up is not an option. what must he do? what can he do? ... giving up is not an option, help from others, but where can they help him with? what is the cause

He walks up and down the room, pondering, up and down he walks.

Do all understand what he is fighting with is not what he is fighting for?

He walks up and down the room, pondering, up and down he walks.

Are all honest? what are they not telling, what did he not ask? What did he miss?

He walks up and down the room, pondering, up and down he walks.

his strong believe and optimism is slowly fading..... must he tug for war?

He walks up and down the room, pondering, up and down he walks.

He looks up. he knows what he is fighting for!, not with!, that must change!

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Tathkar Eisgrim
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Re: To Karkassus of Sembia

Post by Tathkar Eisgrim » Wed Feb 01, 2017 7:22 am

Spell after spell hit floor, wall and ceiling. Fireballs, Disintegrate spells -- in terrible awesome succession. Stone melted. Crystal-Pufferfish shattered. Draperies disappeared in clouds of ember and ash -- the very Weave of the room, audibly groaned and protested.

Karkassus roared his rage one final time, and then was spent, becoming still and calculating. An hour passed, the heat of the spells tik-tikking out of the walls.

"We will not be undone by the truth. We will not be undone by our Sigil of Deceit being revealed. We will not be countered by b----."

Such was his loathing, he could not finish his sentence.

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Re: To Karkassus of Sembia

Post by AEJDR » Thu Feb 02, 2017 10:43 am

He sits on his chair, his elbow on the handrail his chin resting on his thumb and his forefinger to his mouth. wrinkles are deeply grooved on his forehead.
"Why did I let me go so, why am I the line passed? What is the difference between his actions and mine? He wanted something, I wanted some."

Hours pass, no answer. A calculating tranquility descends upon him . The answer is found. "There is a difference!"

A smile appears on his lips "The battle will be long and dark, but the solution will be there also the road to ....
The answer given by him without him knowing it. "Time to play chess. The advantage lies to him with the most of the pieces,...... that means us!"

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Tathkar Eisgrim
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Karkassus of Arelith

Post by Tathkar Eisgrim » Fri Feb 03, 2017 6:13 pm

In the squalid surroundings of a makeshift cell, Karkassus sits and ponders in Arcane reverie. His eyes rotate in a slow spiral as if reading a Dethek script only he can see. A mantra of Draconic slips from his thirst-cracked lips.

"Wheels within wheels. Plans within plans. Wheels within wheels. Plans within plans."

It is a mantra all Red Wizards of Thay know all too well. They are taught it, as words, as apprentices. They understand it, in their rise to claim their red robes. In the crucible of Thay politick they master it - or die. Every circumstance, every opportunity for poison or deceit, success or failure is poured over and calculated. It is boiled down, distilled -- through arcane mathematics to matters of purest 'Contingency' -- and 'Contingency' cast.

With a rat-bitten forefinger Karkassus begins to write upon the dirty floor. His finger dips like a quill into the bloody innards of a slain rat corpse.

His endeavour possesses him, inspires him; and in the inspiration maddens him.

The calculation is completed.

"La lala la. La lala la. La lala la. La lala la."

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Re: To Karkassus of Sembia

Post by AEJDR » Sat Feb 04, 2017 11:03 am

He is laying on his back, staring to the ceiling witch he doesn't see, because of the darkness. He listens to the quiet breathing of his wife. She finally is asleep, rest she so desperately needs.
The thoughts in his mind tumble over each other. he is going in circles. What did he do wrong.
listen, talk, subservience and even supreieur behavior. It did not work.
Chess, the pieces are on his side, not the other side. What, what
Somehow the darkness makes it easy to think. Yes he walked away, he didn't want to cross a border again.
The three words tumble in his mind again, stubbornness, predictable and chess.
Stubbornness, he is fighting, that should be staying, Chess that is the game he is forced in he cant change that, or can he? if he could change that, he changes also the predictability.

suddenly a plan forms in his head, he must convince his angel, and the thane.
as he closes his eyes the piece and sleep come over him, as a warm blanket.
He sleeps dreamless, peaceful and restfull.

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a smile,

Post by AEJDR » Mon Feb 06, 2017 3:04 pm

Furious, why now, why him. didnt they understand that he did not lie, and that he lived by one rule? kin do nae lie to kin. The final goodbye came as a cold dagger in his hart, he saw the desperstion in his eyes and the sceam o let him do what he did. he has closed his eyes as a non spoken conormation. He could have saved him, he could, a quick wave with a wand and a protection spell. and his attemped would have failed. why did he let it come this far.
his thinking of what happend. The desperation, Did his wifes she that in his eyes? did he punish her that much? he realises that he was lucky, lucky to have one that prevented him of a simular action. A sad smile appears on his lips, the pain of a lost friend is there. Why Kellarn, why? were we so deaf and blind for yer call for help. In a moment he realises that this question will never be answerd.
He takes a deep breath, the moment was the most worse, his wife the unborn, aye they need the attention, why Kellarn, it strikes him like a thunderstrike, the difference,... Ursullir, thats it, he showed her what he has and what he fights for. that was it, a smile came once again on his lips, a sad one aye the price was high, the life of a friend, but with that he could see how rich he is.
his knees started to hhurt, how long was he laying for his altar? it didnt matter, the loss of Kellarn did bring some good. it opend his eyes, aye he would fight for him, but more.... he would fight for the living.
once more he closes his eyes and paryed for the soul of Kellarn, and the well being of his wife.
when he stould up he smiled, a true smile, he looks looks to the statue of the All father, and thinks take care of him he is a fine kin, his lips spoke these words,

Thank you Kellarn thank you for everything.

he leaves the temple, it was late His wife was probably sleeping, it was also for him time to sleep

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Tathkar Eisgrim
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"Where there is a Quill, there is a Way."

Post by Tathkar Eisgrim » Mon Feb 06, 2017 4:06 pm

Saerloon, Sembia -- Hall of the Archivist:

Rostro shuffled along the 'Eternal Corridor', a lantern held high in his aged hand. Dust motes danced in the meagre light.

The corridor was aptly named. It stretched beyond sight and sense, an inky void swallowing all comprehension. New initiates to Oghma rarely lasted beyond their first day. Some went mad. Some went missing. Last year their had been "the body" - its mouth contorted impossibly wide into an impossible scream.

Rostro's sleeve brushed against a bundle of ancient papyrii. They tumbled to the ground forcing him to stoop and return them.

It was then that he heard it. A noise. Faint. His mind went into terrible overdrive imagining shadowy horrors all about him.

The fingernails of the damned scrabbling against their cell walls.

His aged heart pounded in his chest. Pain seized him, clawed at him. He clutched back at his robes; found by chance his amulet of Oghma, resting cool against his chest.

Three adorations to Oghma and his heart finally beat true. The fingernail scratching continued. It was real. He had not imagined it.

He shuffled forward. He investigated. Rostro the Adventurer.

The antechamber was unexpected. He knew the Corridor well, instinctively, but could not recall this place ever being here. He raised the lantern higher.

Light fought with shadow and light won. To the centre of the hexagonal room, stood a raised dais. Upon the dais a lectern. Upon the lectern a huge and magnificent book, four feet square and a foot thick. Above the book hovered a dagger / a quill / a dagger / a quill. Its point in constant motion, possessed, intent, writing with deliberation upon the parchment page.

Rostro's amulet became hot against his skin. Illuminated up through his meagre robes and bathed his skin with Holy Light.

Drawn now, like a moth to the flame, he found himself before the lectern, not sure he had even stepped there. The scent of flowers and hot ink rose from the page.

The Holy Book of the Lost was rewriting existence: Lore forgotten was returning to reality--

[Engine of Milil]

Engines of Milil, are a vast enterprise. Created under the joint auspices of Milil, Oghma and Deneir, they are devices of great arcanity. Their purpose is grand, driven by energies beyond mortal comprehension. As such they are created away from the Prime Material, in shard-realms under utmost secrecy.

Three have been created. Three are lost to maleficence. In accordance with the wishes of The Three and the [redacted] and the [redacted] all records shall be struck--


Rostro ran from the chamber with a speed beyond his years.
Last edited by Tathkar Eisgrim on Sat Feb 11, 2017 1:15 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Victory Approaches

Post by Tathkar Eisgrim » Sat Feb 11, 2017 12:24 pm

In the comfort of darkness and silence, Karkassus sat alone and drank wine. A brief interlude and allowance for earthly indulgence he normally did not allow himself.

Victory was so close now. Arcane success - a rising mathematical probability - with each passing hour and each pulsing heartbeart. The thought dragged his lips into a terrible parody of a grin.

Karkassus toasted the darkness and the silence with his goblet: To victory!

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Defeat Approaches

Post by Tathkar Eisgrim » Sat Feb 11, 2017 1:38 pm

The large hall was a cacophony of noise and activity. Young men and women in the austere robes of Oghma bustled to and fro between orderly rows of desks and clerks, delivering scrolls and parchments. The clerks did their best to ignore them, concentrating to their task of typesetting.

Rostro breathlessly entered the room, clutching at his amulet for its last vestiges of warmth and strength. Clerks, seeing his weak condition, rallied around concerned, but at his insistence allowed him passage towards the raised speaker's dais at the far end of the room.

The last heat faded from his amulet. His knees gave way, sending him supplicant.

"My Lord... to the Corridor..."
"We know."
"...book of the Lost." he wheezed.
"We know."

Karkassus of Sembia turned and faced the prostrate old man; a swirl of robes and fine Sembian perfume. His cold gaze almost gave way to abject cruelty then softened, warmed; his slender wizard's hands reached and aided Rostro in finding his feet.

"Do not despair my dear Rostro. We are not defeated yet."

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A Plot Revealed

Post by Tathkar Eisgrim » Mon Feb 13, 2017 12:42 am

The cacophony in the printing hall reached a final desperate crescendo - a last reach to be music, a symphony - then all was still.

Karkassus of Sembia wrinkled his nose at the acrid smell of too hot ink and parchment. His eyes danced with excitement on the edge of madness. He breathed in the smell, savoured it.

“These Red Wizards of Thay with their Plans within Plans. They overlook us, Rostro. We are not masterminds - we are not mathematicians, so they overlook us."

Rostro looked up to Karkassus of Sembia. The madness in his eyes made him wary, but by Oghma - he admired him too!

Karkassus of Sembia walked to the nearest press and obtained printed copy. It was almost too hot to handle and he blew on page and fingers both.

Rostro merely stared, over-awed. Karkassus of Sembia continued his soliloquy.

"We are Actors upon a stage - we hold in our hands the script!”

Dextrously he turned to the rearmost pages--

[Fallen Harper] A Harper poorly given a Harper’s Pin. A Harper who has stepped away from the Harper Path. Their silver pin might be worn tarnished or upside down as a sign of their own acceptance of their fall. Harpers in good grace police their own and Fallen Harpers are frequently slain or mysteriously disappear.

[A Dark Passion Play] A Harper Black-Ops scenario. All the actors and events portrayed within the play are real, the consequences real. The actors within the play may not realize their role within the greater manipulation of the Harper organisation. The purposes of a dark passion play are wide and varied; they might be live-fire training exercises for fledgling Harpers; they might be investigations into a murder; they might be a counter to the machinations of other agencies.

[The Hand of Thay Dark Passion Play - Cast Members]

[Karkassus the Cruel] A blood-lineage Arch-Mage Diviner and Aberrationist. Through foul experiment inflicted on Ursullir Grimskald - slave, initiated the causality-flaw event: ‘The Hand of Thay’. His experiment went awry at its offset thanks to [redacted] resulting in the causality-flaw fracturing of Karkassus into multiple selves which were scattered across the Planes. The original Karkassus the Cruel survived the scattering event and blaming Harpers and Bards for his scattering has a deep-seated hatred of Songs, Poetry, Music, Actors, Bards, Harpers

[Karkassus Servitors] Subservient Karkassus fragments defeated by Karkassus the Cruel and sworn then into loyalty.

[Karkassus Kruull]
A Karkassus servitor serving as Herald to the Isle of Arelith intent on manipulating Broind and Ursullir Glimmerbrand.

[Karkassus of Sembia] This humble scribe and narrator. A Fallen Harper. A fractured self of Karkassus the Cruel recruited into opposition against his plan to re-establish ‘The Hand of Thay’ experiment.

[The Hand of Thay] An experiment and causality-flaw event intended to create sentience into a magical stave using moralistic-power sources [see: Sons of Glimmerbrand]

[Sons of Glimmerbrand] The three unborn sons of Ursullir Glimmerbrand and Broind Glimmerbrand. By divination and previous experimentation creating the Daughters of Glimmerbrand through a Staff of Fertility, Karkassus the Cruel initiated a second-wave plan to extract moralistic-power from the Sons of Glimmerbrand to create The Hand of Thay.

[Daughters of Glimmerbrand
] The three born daughters of Ursullir Glimmerbrand and Broind Glimmerbrand. A first-wave plan to test / experiment / cement the relationship of the Glimmerbrand household to make them susceptible to manipulations of the second-wave.

[Staff of Fertility]
A replica of the household staff of House Glimmerbrand [see: Staff of Hope] intended to raise the poor fertility levels of Ursullir’s Aasimar / Gold Dwarf lineage. Tricked into her possession, but its sinister nature was discovered by the Daughters of Glimmerbrand.

[Staff of Hope] House Glimmerbrand staff created to symbolize future prosperity. Given the unfortunate circumstances [multiple sentences redacted]

[Moralistic Power] Skaldic energies; might be positively / negatively charged. Of uncertain origin. *[see note A]

[Engine of Milil] A planar thought-engine construct of vast size and scale constructed using spiderling thought-motes.

[Broind Glimmerbrand]
Nemesis of Karkassus Kruull; benefactor of the aid of Karkassus of Sembia; husband of Ursullir.

[Ursullir Glimmerbrand]
Rare Gold Dwarf Aasimar; former slave and test subject of Karkassus the Cruel. Rescued by Karkassus of Sembia. Given the unfortunate circumstances [multiple sentences redacted]

*[note A] [pages redacted].
~oOo~
Rostro turned his eyes away from the page. To gaze upon such twisted divinations and revelations risked insanity.

"My Lord, these words will make the Other Harpers very mad with you. They will denounce you. Seek you. Punish you."
"Rostro, Rostro, Rostro. You must realise - I am and remain - a Karkassus."
"My Lord, these words will make Karkassus the Cruel very mad with you."
"Rostro, Rostro, Rostro. You must realise - I know the man very well. He will be absolutely livid.

Carefully and with a degree of pride, Karkassus of Sembia pinned his Harper's pin - a Stave with hand clutching jewel - upside down to his breast.
Last edited by Tathkar Eisgrim on Mon Feb 13, 2017 1:15 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Horse Cart Before The

Post by Tathkar Eisgrim » Mon Feb 13, 2017 1:05 am

Decades previously:

Karkassus the Cruel made a careful, careful incision. The rite at this stage was delicate beyond belief. The merest hint of a mishap and his test-subject might be wasted. Years and years of spell -- undone.

His pupils constricted and disappeared. A tidal wave of causality crashed over him, rolling backwards through time. A brief glimpse of his own grinning face added as a signature. Karkassus. Sembia.

Karkassus the Cruel stumbled away. Other Karkassus' appeared about him, sought to advise and reproach him and laugh at his failure. Karkassus the Cruel stumbled away. Stumbled into an Arcane Refraction mirror.

The mirror shattered into an infinity of pieces - and so did Karkassus the Cruel.

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The Embrace of Elysium

Post by Tathkar Eisgrim » Wed Feb 15, 2017 10:11 pm

Elysium:

Desperately Ursullir held her Staff of Hope aloft; a shimmering dome of golden light held at its point. The dome flickered and shivered from the dark energies held within her -- thrashing wildly and seeking escape.

She sang the note as perfectly as she could; lasted as long as she could. Tears formed in her eyes as her skaldic skills reached their limit and she ran out of air. The note hitched and her dome collapsed. Her body shifted and phased leaving her open and vulnerable. Distantly she heard Broind's voice - calling for her, unable to see her.

Dark energies connected across the isle, moving from thayan portal to thayan portal; tore through the planes and ruinously through her belly. Three unborn babes were wrenched away and Ursullir was a Mother-to-be no more.

She felt, rather than saw, Broind's presence. Felt him cradling her. Holding her hand. Begging Moradin for intervention.

Then all the world went grey and went away.

-- THE END --
?

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