Grobnak's office looked the same as it always had - and at the approach of Emalia, Grobnak leapt up from his chair. "Emalia! You're alive!" The scent of death and decay swirled around her, but it didn't seem to bother either of them. At Grobnak's approach, Emalia inwardly recoiled - the killer of her child - how dare he approach her. All this time she thought of him as decent - not knowing that all along everyone was right about his cold, calculating nature. "What is it that you have there?"
"This... is... my baby. Look at her... isn't she beautiful?"
For a shimmering moment, Brin was alive in her arms - but the vision wavered and the ball of rot came back into view with black, bloated lips pursed for suckling. "I don't understand," Grobnak interrupted. "You lost it? You were only a few weeks along."
"Nooooo," Emalia began in a hollow whisper. "She's here... she's here now."
"I... I am sorry, Emalia."
"Hold her," Emalia commanded. She thrust the decayed child into Grobnak's arms. Upon his face gathered a tear, and it drove Emalia near insanity. A growl gathered in her throat, even as the black ichor that coursed through her rewarded her for the hate. "You did this to me. You did this to her."
"Me? No, Emalia."
"Yes. You did. You gave me that disease... the disease that KILLED my baby."
"No, Emalia. If I made people ill, there would be many more deaths. I am Chosen, yes, but I am not contagious."
"LIAR!" Emalia shoved her hands into Grobnak, thrusting him backward. "Halethiel TOLD me what you did... you sick... sick bastard! YOU infected me."
"Halethiel is centuries dead! What is it about this that you people do not understand?"
"You did this to me," Emalia began. The rage that she had quelled only a bit was washing over her - the black makou prasing her for the turn in her nature. It flowed easier now - but Emalia did not know. She advanced slowly upon Grobnak. "You killed my child... and I can't live knowing you aren't going to pay. I'm going to make you pay for this, Grobnak."
"I did nothing, Fallen! Know that I will tolerate your anger and your insolence, but you will not assault me for your lack of Faith, no matter how dear you may be to me!"
"DEAR TO YOU!" Emalia barely could understand the words once they had left her mouth, so high pitched were they. Grobnak held his ground, his black eyes looking down upon her with a mix of emotions Emalia could not, and didn't try to descern.
"Bring your wrath, then. I did not hurt this child. I have done naught but seek to reveal the Truth to you, which you refuse to see."
The words were enough to halt Emalia for only a moment - until her eyes rested upon the decayed baby that Grobnak had placed in the chair. Rage like no other she'd known flooded her and she gripped Grobnak's arm with her fingers like talons. She did only what she knew to do - she pulled upon the world around her, channeling through her body the very essence of the planet, while forcing it in a torrent into Grobnak.
Emalia could barely see from her own eyes - the pain of the black makou being mixed with what she was caused only the color white to explode over and over in her vision. A scream broke from her throat as she gripped tighter - her entire body shuddering inwardly with pain that felt as though her flesh was being flayed from her skin by hooks. Only when the body before her began to fall did she relent enough to note the connection which made her kin to Grobnak's thoughts - and he to hers. Only as the ragnarok demon's wings melted into a puddle and dripped to the floor did she realize she had been wrong. Grobnak's life flickered out like a candle blown, and Emalia fell to the ground with him.
"Oh no..." The madness that capped Emalia's face broke into pure horror. "You... were... right... Oh Gods..." Feebly, Emalia tried to ignore the pain within her, to right the wrong, to find Grobnak's life and restore it - but it was too late for him - and for herself. She had fully let herself go to slay him, and with the pain digging itself into her - the attempt to pull life - to give life - Emalia's vison began to fade.
Nothing more could be done for Grobnak, and with the loss of all that held her together inside, Emalia collapsed onto Grobnak with a shuddering breath. It was her last. The remainder of her lifeforce shot from her, a brilliant explosion. When the guards finally entered, a body of a baby was in a chair, an orc laid upon the ground in a puddle of black ooze, and atop his chest was a woman in dirty white robes. All were dead.
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query label:RPnote label:Grobnak. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query label:RPnote label:Grobnak. Sort by date Show all posts
The Chase Leads On
Hellstrom was walking through Westbridge on his way back to the Guardians hall when he decided to take a break and rest on a bench in Market Square. The market was not terribly busy but there were a few people wandering around to the nearby shops collecting supplies and bartering for goods.
A call came over the telepathic link from Jayden asking Hellstrom to go to the coffee shop in Westbridge quickly. Thinking there was some kind of trouble Hellstrom freed his axe of its holder and ran for the coffee shop as he was not that far away. He opened the door swiftly and looked around the room. Seeing only the waitress, Jayden, and Emalia, he put his axe back in the loop and asked Jayden what he needed. The silence that followed was enough for Hellstrom to assume that it had something to do with the Jenovese so he added "If this is something to do with the Jenovese or Grobnak I will be leaving now, I cannot stay while her beliefs are being belittled." Emalia asked Hellstrom to stay, and at her request he did.
A loud Thump sounded from the roof of the Cafe, and the three looked up at the ceiling above them. "Where you followed?" Jayden asked Hellstrom quietly.
"I don’t believe so, but I was warned this would happen." Hellstrom replies just as quietly as a frown creases his face. "Its ok, I will leave, it is me he is after." After an argument about who was going to go and who was going to stay, Hellstrom throws the hood of his cloak up over his head and makes for the door. Emalia called for him to stop and he did turning his head slightly to the side hiding the hurt look on his face within the deep hood of his cloak. Emalia tried to apologize for hurting Hellstrom, but he knew in his heart that he was the one that was that was doing the hurting on this day. It would be better if he got away from the city. He would stop destroying his chances with Emalia and he would lead the spy away from Emalia and Jayden.
He pulled his green cloak tight around him as he departed the cafe and ran full sprint into the ancient elven forests north of Westbridge. After running some maneuvers trying to lose his pursuer Hellstrom finally approached the clearing in the wood where he exercised and practiced. In the middle of the clearing he pulled off his cloak and shirt. stuffing them into his backpack and began his exercises. At least he might as well provide a show if his pursuer was able to find him here. What Hellstrom had forgotten was he had no way to contact the Guardians without that insignia on his cloak.
A call came over the telepathic link from Jayden asking Hellstrom to go to the coffee shop in Westbridge quickly. Thinking there was some kind of trouble Hellstrom freed his axe of its holder and ran for the coffee shop as he was not that far away. He opened the door swiftly and looked around the room. Seeing only the waitress, Jayden, and Emalia, he put his axe back in the loop and asked Jayden what he needed. The silence that followed was enough for Hellstrom to assume that it had something to do with the Jenovese so he added "If this is something to do with the Jenovese or Grobnak I will be leaving now, I cannot stay while her beliefs are being belittled." Emalia asked Hellstrom to stay, and at her request he did.
A loud Thump sounded from the roof of the Cafe, and the three looked up at the ceiling above them. "Where you followed?" Jayden asked Hellstrom quietly.
"I don’t believe so, but I was warned this would happen." Hellstrom replies just as quietly as a frown creases his face. "Its ok, I will leave, it is me he is after." After an argument about who was going to go and who was going to stay, Hellstrom throws the hood of his cloak up over his head and makes for the door. Emalia called for him to stop and he did turning his head slightly to the side hiding the hurt look on his face within the deep hood of his cloak. Emalia tried to apologize for hurting Hellstrom, but he knew in his heart that he was the one that was that was doing the hurting on this day. It would be better if he got away from the city. He would stop destroying his chances with Emalia and he would lead the spy away from Emalia and Jayden.
He pulled his green cloak tight around him as he departed the cafe and ran full sprint into the ancient elven forests north of Westbridge. After running some maneuvers trying to lose his pursuer Hellstrom finally approached the clearing in the wood where he exercised and practiced. In the middle of the clearing he pulled off his cloak and shirt. stuffing them into his backpack and began his exercises. At least he might as well provide a show if his pursuer was able to find him here. What Hellstrom had forgotten was he had no way to contact the Guardians without that insignia on his cloak.
The Informant
Nyrul made his way to the Jihad Compound, in the debt of the night knowing this is where he could find Grobnak, to help aid him in the upcoming plans of his. Once to the Compound, Nyrul snuck into Grobnak's chambers, where Grobnak seemed to be studying some unknown things. Nyrul kept his face cloaked and stood in the door way to Grobnak's chamber, he spoke in his soft whisperers tone "Sir..." Grobnak seemed taken off guard a bit, then replied "Greetings Brother." Nyrul took a steep bow before Grobnak, and it was returned.
Nyrul began to tell Grobnak of his recent findings on this unknown man who had been speaking to Emalia just a short time after Grobnak had spoken with her. Nyrul spoke of everything, even his intentions of wanting to kill this man who was trying to stand in Jihad's path.
After everything was explained Grobnak gave Nyrul the order to find this unknown man that had been speaking with Emalia, and track him find out everything about him, his next of kin mainly, and then report back. Nyrul was a little distraught when what he wanted to do was shot down by Grobnak, but he understood fully what needed to be done.
Grobnak then made plans to go and see Emalia right away, whilst Nyrul began his devious plan to lure Hellstrom into speaking of anything he loved dearly, so Nyrul could carry out Grobnak's plan to convert them or destroy them.....Nyrul slipped back into the night and made his way back to Westbridge.
Nyrul began to tell Grobnak of his recent findings on this unknown man who had been speaking to Emalia just a short time after Grobnak had spoken with her. Nyrul spoke of everything, even his intentions of wanting to kill this man who was trying to stand in Jihad's path.
After everything was explained Grobnak gave Nyrul the order to find this unknown man that had been speaking with Emalia, and track him find out everything about him, his next of kin mainly, and then report back. Nyrul was a little distraught when what he wanted to do was shot down by Grobnak, but he understood fully what needed to be done.
Grobnak then made plans to go and see Emalia right away, whilst Nyrul began his devious plan to lure Hellstrom into speaking of anything he loved dearly, so Nyrul could carry out Grobnak's plan to convert them or destroy them.....Nyrul slipped back into the night and made his way back to Westbridge.
Pressure
Colin was in disbelief of what Emalia was being put through as he carried her unconsious body up to her bedroom. For how much everyone kept saying that they were talking to her for her own good the toll it was taking on her, and now their unborn child, was very disturbing.
Colin lay Emalia on her bed and stood over her, bowing his head in dismay. Today, once more, Emalia had been pushed to the limit, and beyond. First the unexpected visit from Jessiah, and then immediately afterward, Grobnak. A realization popped into his mind, "That stubborn idiot is still laying out there, helpless."
He took another moment to look at Emalia, noting her steady breathing, before leaving the bedroom and heading back outside to the collapsed Grobnak. He stepped over the threshold to stand over the fallen creature, glaring down upon his hideous form. "What is wrong with you?" Colin spoke aloud to the motionless figure. How could he not see the harm he was doing to Emalia through his insistence in talking to her about these things. "...so blind."
A new thought occured to him now, "Look at him, so helpless. You could put an end to his torment of Emalia... make it so this never happened again." He pondered that idea for a moment. There was a refreshing justice and finality in that thought and Colin was mildly suprised when he realized that he had retrieved his sword from where he had dropped it upon the ground and was now standing over Grobnak with the weapon gripped tightly in his hand. As Colin stood there his thoughts urged him on further, "It's basically his fault she's laying up there right now." Yet that wasn't completely true, was it?
Colin spoke a warning aloud to the unconscious figure, "If you have hurt her..."Or Brin."...or my child..." Colin left the threat hanging. That was right. Brin. Emalia had said there was something wrong with the baby. "Why give him the chance to even recover? It would be so easy. Noone would even see."
"But Emalia...", Colin found himself speaking aloud, "I couldn't." "But she would thank you for silencing just one of the people responsible for the state she's in. He could never betray her again." Colin found himself wanting to believe this but deep down he knew it was wrong. Emalia would never condone a cold- blooded murder like that. He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought. "No.", Colin spoke, "I can't."
However, his thoughts would not be deterred. "You can, you just won't. And you call yourself a guardian. A threat lays right here at your feet yet you will not stamp it out!"
Colin pressed his fists to his temples, trying to physically shut out these thoughts which he knew were wrong. "I said no!", he found himself shouting, "Go away!"
Colin stood there, his jaw clenched, heavy breaths coming in hisses through his bared teeth as he fought to control his own mind. Finally, it seemed, the thoughts had ceased. What was happening to him? He was talking to himself, even arguing with himself! Colin took a deep breath and sheathed his sword. Perhaps Emalia wasn't the only one feeling the effects of all this stress. He could probably use some rest as well, but first, there was something he had promised to do.
Colin bent down and easily lifted the unconscious Grobnak off the ground, throwing him over his shoulder like a black-winged sack of potatoes. He set off at a brisk pace toward the Jihad compound, eager to drop his cargo upon their doorstep and return to rest with Emalia.
Colin lay Emalia on her bed and stood over her, bowing his head in dismay. Today, once more, Emalia had been pushed to the limit, and beyond. First the unexpected visit from Jessiah, and then immediately afterward, Grobnak. A realization popped into his mind, "That stubborn idiot is still laying out there, helpless."
He took another moment to look at Emalia, noting her steady breathing, before leaving the bedroom and heading back outside to the collapsed Grobnak. He stepped over the threshold to stand over the fallen creature, glaring down upon his hideous form. "What is wrong with you?" Colin spoke aloud to the motionless figure. How could he not see the harm he was doing to Emalia through his insistence in talking to her about these things. "...so blind."
A new thought occured to him now, "Look at him, so helpless. You could put an end to his torment of Emalia... make it so this never happened again." He pondered that idea for a moment. There was a refreshing justice and finality in that thought and Colin was mildly suprised when he realized that he had retrieved his sword from where he had dropped it upon the ground and was now standing over Grobnak with the weapon gripped tightly in his hand. As Colin stood there his thoughts urged him on further, "It's basically his fault she's laying up there right now." Yet that wasn't completely true, was it?
Colin spoke a warning aloud to the unconscious figure, "If you have hurt her..."Or Brin."...or my child..." Colin left the threat hanging. That was right. Brin. Emalia had said there was something wrong with the baby. "Why give him the chance to even recover? It would be so easy. Noone would even see."
"But Emalia...", Colin found himself speaking aloud, "I couldn't." "But she would thank you for silencing just one of the people responsible for the state she's in. He could never betray her again." Colin found himself wanting to believe this but deep down he knew it was wrong. Emalia would never condone a cold- blooded murder like that. He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought. "No.", Colin spoke, "I can't."
However, his thoughts would not be deterred. "You can, you just won't. And you call yourself a guardian. A threat lays right here at your feet yet you will not stamp it out!"
Colin pressed his fists to his temples, trying to physically shut out these thoughts which he knew were wrong. "I said no!", he found himself shouting, "Go away!"
Colin stood there, his jaw clenched, heavy breaths coming in hisses through his bared teeth as he fought to control his own mind. Finally, it seemed, the thoughts had ceased. What was happening to him? He was talking to himself, even arguing with himself! Colin took a deep breath and sheathed his sword. Perhaps Emalia wasn't the only one feeling the effects of all this stress. He could probably use some rest as well, but first, there was something he had promised to do.
Colin bent down and easily lifted the unconscious Grobnak off the ground, throwing him over his shoulder like a black-winged sack of potatoes. He set off at a brisk pace toward the Jihad compound, eager to drop his cargo upon their doorstep and return to rest with Emalia.
A Private Message
Our Emperor Lord Kefka,
May it please you to know that the Jenovese hereby offer our support in your rightful claim over the town of Westbridge. As loyal servants of The Apprentice, we feel it is our duty to offer arms and guardsmen in support of the defense of Westbridge against the pretentious Pax Faerunis and their allies.
Though the strength of your forces suggest that you are not in need of our humble supplies, what we can offer you is a secure and remote base from which to run your operations. All that we would ask in return is shared access to munitions and military apparatuses with which you operate.
Rumor would suggest that your wealth is great, so we cannot imagine that this arrangement would be of detriment to you, and one can never underestimate the value of a covert base in a war such as is sure to follow recent events. You may not need us, but we can certainly be of service to you.
If you should agree to this arrangement, you need only look to the RoK above and swear your allegiance to The Apprentice. We will seek you out after.
Ever Your Humble Servants,
The Jihad
May it please you to know that the Jenovese hereby offer our support in your rightful claim over the town of Westbridge. As loyal servants of The Apprentice, we feel it is our duty to offer arms and guardsmen in support of the defense of Westbridge against the pretentious Pax Faerunis and their allies.
Though the strength of your forces suggest that you are not in need of our humble supplies, what we can offer you is a secure and remote base from which to run your operations. All that we would ask in return is shared access to munitions and military apparatuses with which you operate.
Rumor would suggest that your wealth is great, so we cannot imagine that this arrangement would be of detriment to you, and one can never underestimate the value of a covert base in a war such as is sure to follow recent events. You may not need us, but we can certainly be of service to you.
If you should agree to this arrangement, you need only look to the RoK above and swear your allegiance to The Apprentice. We will seek you out after.
Ever Your Humble Servants,
The Jihad
Hormonal Imbalances
Emalia sat on the edge of the bed with her tears rolling down her cheeks. Once again she had completely made a fool of herself, and while the rest of the realms knew pregnancy could make a woman crazy, no one left a memo for Emalia. All she knew is that when Throm showed up before dawn saying something was wrong with her, then not really believing her when she said she was fine - the anger she had over his interference with her parent's "happily ever after" and his doubt of her understanding of herself boiled over.
Apparently, someone from somewhere had informed Throm that Emalia had contact with Grobnak which left her infected with something like hemelia. Emalia knew this wasn't true, she could see directly into herself, she could search her very essence for anything impure, and nothing was there. But with Colin holding her hands, she could sense, like the rumble of a storm on the horizon, something was amiss.
She didn't seek out what it was, but it didn't seem to matter. While Colin believed her words, Throm seemed uncertain. It burned her up to know that he still doubted her, he still didn't believe. 'Arrogant,' she thought to herself. Then Throm was simply ready to leave without a word of what this "disease" might be, or what they could do to help Colin.
Emalia was outraged, and even more irritated that she couldn't control the torrent of feelings that shuddered through her body. Throm had come in the small hours of the morning - it was obvious by that act something was dreadfully wrong, but he was dismissive, stating all would be well. 'Like hell,' Emalia thought. He was putting her husband in danger, and possibly herself, and her baby. "You may have taken my mother, but I won't let you take Colin!"
The brief look of shock on Throm's face was replaced with a small smile that drove Emalia mad."I don't intend to take anyone Emalia...believe me."
At that instant, Emalia was ready to seek out Grobnak for herself. She wouldn't risk venturing into Colin to discover what was in there, since it could harm Brin, but she would seek out the man who did this to him. Colin tried to calm her as these thoughts raged through her.
"My timing was off...I should have waited for the morning. I came not because I feared you both would vanish overnight. I acted upon selfish impulse in the service of self pacification by knowing you two were okay," Throm said."Selfish." Emalia glared at Throm now. "Seems that way."
Listening to Colin finally, Emalia walked to the bed and sat with her head in her hand, just as she sat now. Colin and Throm had walked out, and she simply couldn't help the tears. For these moments, she was glad to have Colin. For on both sides, no one trusted her it seemed, except for him. He was her saving grace, and she tried to rid herself of the tears before he returned.
Apparently, someone from somewhere had informed Throm that Emalia had contact with Grobnak which left her infected with something like hemelia. Emalia knew this wasn't true, she could see directly into herself, she could search her very essence for anything impure, and nothing was there. But with Colin holding her hands, she could sense, like the rumble of a storm on the horizon, something was amiss.
She didn't seek out what it was, but it didn't seem to matter. While Colin believed her words, Throm seemed uncertain. It burned her up to know that he still doubted her, he still didn't believe. 'Arrogant,' she thought to herself. Then Throm was simply ready to leave without a word of what this "disease" might be, or what they could do to help Colin.
Emalia was outraged, and even more irritated that she couldn't control the torrent of feelings that shuddered through her body. Throm had come in the small hours of the morning - it was obvious by that act something was dreadfully wrong, but he was dismissive, stating all would be well. 'Like hell,' Emalia thought. He was putting her husband in danger, and possibly herself, and her baby. "You may have taken my mother, but I won't let you take Colin!"
The brief look of shock on Throm's face was replaced with a small smile that drove Emalia mad."I don't intend to take anyone Emalia...believe me."
At that instant, Emalia was ready to seek out Grobnak for herself. She wouldn't risk venturing into Colin to discover what was in there, since it could harm Brin, but she would seek out the man who did this to him. Colin tried to calm her as these thoughts raged through her.
"My timing was off...I should have waited for the morning. I came not because I feared you both would vanish overnight. I acted upon selfish impulse in the service of self pacification by knowing you two were okay," Throm said."Selfish." Emalia glared at Throm now. "Seems that way."
Listening to Colin finally, Emalia walked to the bed and sat with her head in her hand, just as she sat now. Colin and Throm had walked out, and she simply couldn't help the tears. For these moments, she was glad to have Colin. For on both sides, no one trusted her it seemed, except for him. He was her saving grace, and she tried to rid herself of the tears before he returned.
Vanishing... (1-3)
Sanria's hand slowly went back to her whip as she asked, "Where's Sandorin?"
"I don't know... he disappeared. What... what has happened? Please, tell me, what have I done?"
"You probably killed him, you monster. Where is he?"
Sanria's whip unfurled and the tips clattered down with a jingle upon the stone floor. Small electric-like arcs of fire lapped the length of the leather - activated by the user. Sanria's eyes darkened. She had a missing daughter, no lover, a missing brother, and a vile being sitting right at her feet upon which she could release her fury for not only all of those things, but the things Visha had done to her in her past. She lifted her hand and the vines enclosed the slumping figure on the floor. "I wished I could have killed you a long time ago, Visha. Threatening those I love... making me do those... those... horrible things."
"Please, I need your help. I didn't realize what had happened."
"Of course you didn't," Sanria spat.
"In my mind... I saw him in there... and the other."
She flicked her whip, barely slicing into Colin's cheek. "Lies. I tell you this much, you're not going to hurt my daughter. I'll see you dead and gone long before that."
"Emalia. Where is Emalia! Is she alright?"
Sanria's heart flared with rage. Of all the audacious things he could have said... "Oh you evil swine!" Sanria's whip found its tips slicing through the flesh of Colin's chin, fire dancing brightly before simmering down, searing the open wound before going out. "Filth!"
"Listen to me! Please! I didn't know what was inside of me but Sandorin took it out. He went into my mind..."
Sanria looked at Colin now as if for the first time. Her breath caused her shoulders to rise and fall angrily as her uncertainty worked its way through her. Finally, she let the whip drop to the ground and waved a hand, dismissing the vines from her victim. "It was not me," he continued. "Well, the old me, but worse. Whatever it was, Sandorin removed it. I finally realized it was there, he helped me to see, and I was able to help him."
"Then where is Sandorin, and where is that... thing?" Sanria whispered. She looked over with enough time to see the wound on Colin's chin ooze a bit of blood onto the floor. She reached to her pouch with regret, and pulled out several vials of salve.
"I don't know. I remember falling to the floor, I looked up and saw him for only a moment before he vanished." Colin rose and approached Sanria. "Sanria, please. Where is Emalia?"
"She's gone, Colin. To where... no one knows. None can find her."
Sanria dabbed Colin's chin with a paste of stinking herbal salve. She kept her eyes locked on the wound, feeling measurably more at ease knowing he did not have Visha in him any longer, but the worry pressed on her with her wayward brother being gone.
"Throm went into the lifestream to run tests," Sanria said, talking mainly to herself.
"Apparently that black makou is just as bad as I assumed."
"When? When did this happen?" Colin asked, never having heard Sanria's comment.
"When? You remember none of this? She's been done almost seven days."
"Seven days!? But just last night I was there with her!"
"No... you were not. We've all tried reaching her, and even Throm went to Grobnak to question him."
"Throm gave me that black makou, then you had me tangled."
"Colin... that was a week ago. Though, we haven't had any other success... and indeed... have had failures." Sanria immediately looked down, her lips tight, her thoughts on Throm. "Throm figures you and he shared the same odd dream," Sanria said, slightly changing the subject. "Some fellow, Halethiel, was in them."Colin's eyes widened. "Sanria... in the dream... there was another in my dream."
"Another?"
"My shadow, it spoke to this Halethiel, and he to it."
"You saw this man then?"
The two continued speaking, discussing Visha, Halethiel, the dream, and the lack of a body for Emalia. It was then that Colin said something that chilled Sanria to the core. "I took her to another plane before, when I was trying to keep her safe." The admission set both of them on a path to Colin's airship and a piece of his past.
Sanria was kept blindfolded, but the sounds she heard - the moans, the screams, the growling - sent her to the edge of her sanity. She wanted nothing more than to rip the blindfold from her eyes and defend herself, but as Colin informed her... to do so might find her lost in the planar vortex forever.
She could not tell how many places they went, nor how long time passed. Sanria could barely send out her thoughts to seek for her daughter - so terrifying was the trip. But after unknown time spent, there was only silence to greet each request. Emalia was obviously not here. But the idea of planes got Sanria thinking.
"She has to be in a plane somewhere. When we were in one plane, I could not detect anything in the others... I could not feel them even existing. If Sandorin were here, he might know how to better look for her... but..."
Sanria plopped into a chair, utterly exhausted from the strain. "How many more people have to go away," she lamented.
"None, we will find her, find them both. We just have to think this through. Who saw her last?"
A shudder sliced through Sanria as she realized just who she was helping here. It was immediate that she had to remember... this was not Visha. "You did."
"Then we have to assume that I... Visha that is... is responsible."
"It sounds almost foolish to suggest... and I don't think it's possible to do... but... do you think he could have taken her to the dream? In... his dream?"
"I just don't know. How could he? I mean, I can't even use magic. I couldn't... could I?"
"No. Not without something powerful to get her there."
Sanria's thoughts never strenthened into more. Perhaps she might have placed what powerful thing could have let Visha take Emalia into a dream - but she had never heard of such an event, let alone anything that could have allowed such a thing to happen. No, her next thoughts were of Halethiel, and who might know this man. There was only one being she could think of that would begin to have a clue, but Grobnak truly was the last person she wanted to visit.
"I don't know... he disappeared. What... what has happened? Please, tell me, what have I done?"
"You probably killed him, you monster. Where is he?"
Sanria's whip unfurled and the tips clattered down with a jingle upon the stone floor. Small electric-like arcs of fire lapped the length of the leather - activated by the user. Sanria's eyes darkened. She had a missing daughter, no lover, a missing brother, and a vile being sitting right at her feet upon which she could release her fury for not only all of those things, but the things Visha had done to her in her past. She lifted her hand and the vines enclosed the slumping figure on the floor. "I wished I could have killed you a long time ago, Visha. Threatening those I love... making me do those... those... horrible things."
"Please, I need your help. I didn't realize what had happened."
"Of course you didn't," Sanria spat.
"In my mind... I saw him in there... and the other."
She flicked her whip, barely slicing into Colin's cheek. "Lies. I tell you this much, you're not going to hurt my daughter. I'll see you dead and gone long before that."
"Emalia. Where is Emalia! Is she alright?"
Sanria's heart flared with rage. Of all the audacious things he could have said... "Oh you evil swine!" Sanria's whip found its tips slicing through the flesh of Colin's chin, fire dancing brightly before simmering down, searing the open wound before going out. "Filth!"
"Listen to me! Please! I didn't know what was inside of me but Sandorin took it out. He went into my mind..."
Sanria looked at Colin now as if for the first time. Her breath caused her shoulders to rise and fall angrily as her uncertainty worked its way through her. Finally, she let the whip drop to the ground and waved a hand, dismissing the vines from her victim. "It was not me," he continued. "Well, the old me, but worse. Whatever it was, Sandorin removed it. I finally realized it was there, he helped me to see, and I was able to help him."
"Then where is Sandorin, and where is that... thing?" Sanria whispered. She looked over with enough time to see the wound on Colin's chin ooze a bit of blood onto the floor. She reached to her pouch with regret, and pulled out several vials of salve.
"I don't know. I remember falling to the floor, I looked up and saw him for only a moment before he vanished." Colin rose and approached Sanria. "Sanria, please. Where is Emalia?"
"She's gone, Colin. To where... no one knows. None can find her."
Sanria dabbed Colin's chin with a paste of stinking herbal salve. She kept her eyes locked on the wound, feeling measurably more at ease knowing he did not have Visha in him any longer, but the worry pressed on her with her wayward brother being gone.
"Throm went into the lifestream to run tests," Sanria said, talking mainly to herself.
"Apparently that black makou is just as bad as I assumed."
"When? When did this happen?" Colin asked, never having heard Sanria's comment.
"When? You remember none of this? She's been done almost seven days."
"Seven days!? But just last night I was there with her!"
"No... you were not. We've all tried reaching her, and even Throm went to Grobnak to question him."
"Throm gave me that black makou, then you had me tangled."
"Colin... that was a week ago. Though, we haven't had any other success... and indeed... have had failures." Sanria immediately looked down, her lips tight, her thoughts on Throm. "Throm figures you and he shared the same odd dream," Sanria said, slightly changing the subject. "Some fellow, Halethiel, was in them."Colin's eyes widened. "Sanria... in the dream... there was another in my dream."
"Another?"
"My shadow, it spoke to this Halethiel, and he to it."
"You saw this man then?"
The two continued speaking, discussing Visha, Halethiel, the dream, and the lack of a body for Emalia. It was then that Colin said something that chilled Sanria to the core. "I took her to another plane before, when I was trying to keep her safe." The admission set both of them on a path to Colin's airship and a piece of his past.
Sanria was kept blindfolded, but the sounds she heard - the moans, the screams, the growling - sent her to the edge of her sanity. She wanted nothing more than to rip the blindfold from her eyes and defend herself, but as Colin informed her... to do so might find her lost in the planar vortex forever.
She could not tell how many places they went, nor how long time passed. Sanria could barely send out her thoughts to seek for her daughter - so terrifying was the trip. But after unknown time spent, there was only silence to greet each request. Emalia was obviously not here. But the idea of planes got Sanria thinking.
"She has to be in a plane somewhere. When we were in one plane, I could not detect anything in the others... I could not feel them even existing. If Sandorin were here, he might know how to better look for her... but..."
Sanria plopped into a chair, utterly exhausted from the strain. "How many more people have to go away," she lamented.
"None, we will find her, find them both. We just have to think this through. Who saw her last?"
A shudder sliced through Sanria as she realized just who she was helping here. It was immediate that she had to remember... this was not Visha. "You did."
"Then we have to assume that I... Visha that is... is responsible."
"It sounds almost foolish to suggest... and I don't think it's possible to do... but... do you think he could have taken her to the dream? In... his dream?"
"I just don't know. How could he? I mean, I can't even use magic. I couldn't... could I?"
"No. Not without something powerful to get her there."
Sanria's thoughts never strenthened into more. Perhaps she might have placed what powerful thing could have let Visha take Emalia into a dream - but she had never heard of such an event, let alone anything that could have allowed such a thing to happen. No, her next thoughts were of Halethiel, and who might know this man. There was only one being she could think of that would begin to have a clue, but Grobnak truly was the last person she wanted to visit.
Into The Ocean
Slowly materializing within the large room, Throm sighed in the form of a well released exhale. As if sensing his presence, a large fireplace on the far end of the chamber burst to life. Illuminating the large table amid room, it cast the table's strange shadows to all corners of the room, emulating the visage of dancing wraiths upon the walls.
He had in fact, gained little from his 'discussion' with Grobnak. Throm's own frustrations gave way to the strange feeling he had gotten that the Rok demon actually cared for the wellbeing of Emalia. Grobnak's actions and apparent defensiveness on the issue had summoned suspicions which Throm could not ignore however. Sighing wearily once again, Throm slowly paced to a large empty arch at the head of the room. There were too many odd events as of late to be mere chance. Such events were becoming stacked as chips within Casino Nights.
The stolen Jenova Cells... The appearance of the Old Foe... The dream... Finding Black Makou within Jihad hands... Emalia sick and then disappearing along with the Black Makou... Colin's odd behavior...
Standing before the arch, Throm closed his eyes, willing the Planet's doorway open. After a moment the darkened archway burst into life, lit by an energy of bright green. Standing before the gate he cast a glance back to the room which offered safety and simplicity. Were one standing near him, they would have heard the whispered words which left his mouth before he plunged himself into the green lit gateway. His words however, fell upon no ears.
"I must give in to intuition once more if I am to set events right. I don't know how this will end...only the direction in which to tread. I know I gave my word, Sanria...and I'm sorry."
He had in fact, gained little from his 'discussion' with Grobnak. Throm's own frustrations gave way to the strange feeling he had gotten that the Rok demon actually cared for the wellbeing of Emalia. Grobnak's actions and apparent defensiveness on the issue had summoned suspicions which Throm could not ignore however. Sighing wearily once again, Throm slowly paced to a large empty arch at the head of the room. There were too many odd events as of late to be mere chance. Such events were becoming stacked as chips within Casino Nights.
The stolen Jenova Cells... The appearance of the Old Foe... The dream... Finding Black Makou within Jihad hands... Emalia sick and then disappearing along with the Black Makou... Colin's odd behavior...
Standing before the arch, Throm closed his eyes, willing the Planet's doorway open. After a moment the darkened archway burst into life, lit by an energy of bright green. Standing before the gate he cast a glance back to the room which offered safety and simplicity. Were one standing near him, they would have heard the whispered words which left his mouth before he plunged himself into the green lit gateway. His words however, fell upon no ears.
"I must give in to intuition once more if I am to set events right. I don't know how this will end...only the direction in which to tread. I know I gave my word, Sanria...and I'm sorry."
The End of Innocence
Hellstrom while sitting in the enchanted Laval pools in Kossuth's church thought about everything that had happened in the past few days. It had been nerve wracking and he had not really rested in quite some time, but the end result was wonderful.
Hellstrom’s thoughts were interrupted as a small flame sputtered up from the pool and a familiar voice spoke to him. "Hellstrom, I need you at once." Elbryan's voice commanded.
Hellstrom sighed and muttered to himself, "I guess my break is over." Hellstrom stepped out of the pool and dressed quickly. From the tone in Elbryan's voice he meant now. With one last sigh Elbryan tapped into his limited magical ability and a door appeared in the wall on the east side of the room. Hellstrom walked to it and opened it to find himself in Elbryan's mansion in Torregianno.
Elbryan was sitting in a chair next to a lit candle with a book closed in his lap, waiting for Hellstrom impatiently by the look he had on his bony face. "Have a seat Hellstrom." Elbryan said evenly. "We have some.... issues we need to discuss."
Hellstrom sat in a chair across from Elbryan as he related the information that Vorcet had managed to gather at the Jenovese Camp. Hellstrom jaw dropped as Elbryan got to the description of the girl. He knew immediately who it was. He could never forget that description. He had gone over it too many times in his own mind. As the story was finished Hellstrom's surprise was replaced by rage. Rage at the Jenovese, and rage directed at Grobnak specifically.
"That SNAKE" Hellstrom growled fiercely as he stood up and began to pace. "If I lay hands on that monster I swear...."
"You will do nothing. That is what you will do." Elbryan answered as evenly as before. "Don’t you think you have someone ELSE you should be worrying about?" Hellstrom stopped in his pacing as he caught Elbryan's meaning. Hellstrom tried to stutter something but Elbryan cut him off. "I understand your need to explain, but it is not necessary. You are the closest to her right now. Do what you can."
Hellstrom with a somewhat relived if not confused look on his face nods and says quietly "I will not disappoint."
Back In the Church Hellstrom paces his small room while he considers his options. "I was able to get her to destroy her copy of the Cyrinishad..." Hellstrom thinks aloud to himself. "Maybe I can talk her out of this madness." Hellstrom sighs as he opens yet another door, his third for the evening exhausting his magical energy and walks into the Sanctuary of the Crimson Guardians to track down Emalia and have a MUCH needed chat.
Hellstrom’s thoughts were interrupted as a small flame sputtered up from the pool and a familiar voice spoke to him. "Hellstrom, I need you at once." Elbryan's voice commanded.
Hellstrom sighed and muttered to himself, "I guess my break is over." Hellstrom stepped out of the pool and dressed quickly. From the tone in Elbryan's voice he meant now. With one last sigh Elbryan tapped into his limited magical ability and a door appeared in the wall on the east side of the room. Hellstrom walked to it and opened it to find himself in Elbryan's mansion in Torregianno.
Elbryan was sitting in a chair next to a lit candle with a book closed in his lap, waiting for Hellstrom impatiently by the look he had on his bony face. "Have a seat Hellstrom." Elbryan said evenly. "We have some.... issues we need to discuss."
Hellstrom sat in a chair across from Elbryan as he related the information that Vorcet had managed to gather at the Jenovese Camp. Hellstrom jaw dropped as Elbryan got to the description of the girl. He knew immediately who it was. He could never forget that description. He had gone over it too many times in his own mind. As the story was finished Hellstrom's surprise was replaced by rage. Rage at the Jenovese, and rage directed at Grobnak specifically.
"That SNAKE" Hellstrom growled fiercely as he stood up and began to pace. "If I lay hands on that monster I swear...."
"You will do nothing. That is what you will do." Elbryan answered as evenly as before. "Don’t you think you have someone ELSE you should be worrying about?" Hellstrom stopped in his pacing as he caught Elbryan's meaning. Hellstrom tried to stutter something but Elbryan cut him off. "I understand your need to explain, but it is not necessary. You are the closest to her right now. Do what you can."
Hellstrom with a somewhat relived if not confused look on his face nods and says quietly "I will not disappoint."
Back In the Church Hellstrom paces his small room while he considers his options. "I was able to get her to destroy her copy of the Cyrinishad..." Hellstrom thinks aloud to himself. "Maybe I can talk her out of this madness." Hellstrom sighs as he opens yet another door, his third for the evening exhausting his magical energy and walks into the Sanctuary of the Crimson Guardians to track down Emalia and have a MUCH needed chat.
Revelation
The light breeze seemed to grow colder as Emalia came closer to the overlook. She glanced over her shoulder several times, marking her progress by exactly how far away Westbridge was, and just how well she could see it. When the trees of the wood finally obscured her view, she knew she was close, and using the game trail, came at last upon the Overlook, and the figure sitting upon it.
Emalia truly had nothing to say, and readied herself for the worst. After what had passed the last time in this place, she was ready for her dismissal from Hellstrom's life. She began to speak, but was interrupted by Hellstrom's curious request to take the discussion elsewhere.
In the woods of Darrowmere, Emalia at once began to speak. "I care for you so much, Hellstrom, and I don't understand... why... you can't believe in me... or at the very least... respect my thoughts and feelings."
Hellstrom spoke plainly, "I’ve said all I intend to about the Jenovese. I've made my feelings about them known to you and that’s all I intend to do. I just pray that someday you see Grobnak for what he is."
'And there it is,' Emalia thought. 'This is the end of my possibilities with this man.' "However, I'm not willing to let it destroy what you and I have. I have a proposal for you, if you will hear it."
Emalia agreed in absolute dumbfoundedness to hear his words. Hellstrom spoke, and Emalia's heart sank. "Speak not to me of the Jenovese or their Faith, and I will hold my tongue as well on my point of view."
'This is love?' Emalia's mind reeled. 'Silence between two people that should share everything with one another?' "I'll say one more thing on the matter." Hellstrom looked down into Emalia's eyes. "When the day comes and the swords are gathered, I will be standing there as the RoK is destroyed. As I feel is my duty to those I love." "And what if I am right?" "Oops."
The anger Emalia felt was barely contained. To her, what had just been said, was that her thoughts were wrong absolutely, and someday, with the one she was supposed to love glaring at her in triumphant truth, she would see. The argued, but as Emalia continued to speak, she realized that no matter what she said... it wasn't about her.
Emalia hung her head, closed her eyes, and agreed to Hellstrom's terms. 'At the very least, I can keep him near me.' When Hellstrom smiled and asked her for a walk, she felt kept. She wanted not to be with him, and excusing herself, she left Hellstrom in the woods with a spell of transportation.
Emalia truly had nothing to say, and readied herself for the worst. After what had passed the last time in this place, she was ready for her dismissal from Hellstrom's life. She began to speak, but was interrupted by Hellstrom's curious request to take the discussion elsewhere.
In the woods of Darrowmere, Emalia at once began to speak. "I care for you so much, Hellstrom, and I don't understand... why... you can't believe in me... or at the very least... respect my thoughts and feelings."
Hellstrom spoke plainly, "I’ve said all I intend to about the Jenovese. I've made my feelings about them known to you and that’s all I intend to do. I just pray that someday you see Grobnak for what he is."
'And there it is,' Emalia thought. 'This is the end of my possibilities with this man.' "However, I'm not willing to let it destroy what you and I have. I have a proposal for you, if you will hear it."
Emalia agreed in absolute dumbfoundedness to hear his words. Hellstrom spoke, and Emalia's heart sank. "Speak not to me of the Jenovese or their Faith, and I will hold my tongue as well on my point of view."
'This is love?' Emalia's mind reeled. 'Silence between two people that should share everything with one another?' "I'll say one more thing on the matter." Hellstrom looked down into Emalia's eyes. "When the day comes and the swords are gathered, I will be standing there as the RoK is destroyed. As I feel is my duty to those I love." "And what if I am right?" "Oops."
The anger Emalia felt was barely contained. To her, what had just been said, was that her thoughts were wrong absolutely, and someday, with the one she was supposed to love glaring at her in triumphant truth, she would see. The argued, but as Emalia continued to speak, she realized that no matter what she said... it wasn't about her.
Emalia hung her head, closed her eyes, and agreed to Hellstrom's terms. 'At the very least, I can keep him near me.' When Hellstrom smiled and asked her for a walk, she felt kept. She wanted not to be with him, and excusing herself, she left Hellstrom in the woods with a spell of transportation.
Trapped in A Rift
Emalia again stared up at the ceiling of the cabin in the woods. She had spent the night in the demiplane, having given in to Colin's cajoling and eventual romancing. She looked over at the large man sleeping beside her with a sigh. Why he wanted to prevent her from doing what needed to be done, she didn't know. Had she known where the opening to the rift was, she would have already set off the day prior. Quietly, she rose from the bed and ambled to the window to look back out over the dreary plane. She took a few moments to read over the tablet given her by Jessiah, and she walked it over to the table setting it down once she had finished. She returned to her position at the window, now thinking slowly over her role in all of this. Her resolve wavered but she continued to stare out the window in quiet contemplation. These were the times she came closest to being like her father, turning details over in her mind, examining them in an attempt to make sense of them. Then she drifted back to being like her mother, rash and ready to ignore the signs in favor of the hope she'd win the gamble.
Eventually, Emalia felt the hands of Colin on her shoulders as she was turned around to face him. All he wanted was for her to stay there. If they were to stay, no one would bother them, and no one would bother Brin once she was born. Truthfully, after reading the tablet, the idea sounded appealing. In her mind, she pictured those with Hemelia running through the streets, ripping people limb from limb, and couldn't fathom bringing that about. But would she? Wasn't the disease a gift from The Apprentice? Besides, Grobnak had never done anything like that... it had to have been something different. Something had to have driven those with the blessing to madness. As she and Colin looked it over, though, his concern wasn't so much the balance as it was "so much innocent blood" that had been shed.
"What if you're wrong," Colin asked quietly. "It is a difficult situation. If this is correct, the stakes can be quite high."Emalia looked out the window, almost offended by Colin's question. "I won't be wrong."
"There is no way to tell, is there."
"No... but is there ever a way to tell anything? Nothing is ever certain, is it?"
"I don't know. Some things are."
"Like?" Emalia turned to look at Colin over her shoulder, having found her way to the front window now.
"How I feel about you is."
There would be no more delays. Though Colin tried again to find a way to keep Emalia in the demiplane, she could no longer stay. The journey had to continue. 'Balance,' she reminded herself, 'Balance is at stake. Balance must be restored.'
Eventually, Emalia felt the hands of Colin on her shoulders as she was turned around to face him. All he wanted was for her to stay there. If they were to stay, no one would bother them, and no one would bother Brin once she was born. Truthfully, after reading the tablet, the idea sounded appealing. In her mind, she pictured those with Hemelia running through the streets, ripping people limb from limb, and couldn't fathom bringing that about. But would she? Wasn't the disease a gift from The Apprentice? Besides, Grobnak had never done anything like that... it had to have been something different. Something had to have driven those with the blessing to madness. As she and Colin looked it over, though, his concern wasn't so much the balance as it was "so much innocent blood" that had been shed.
"What if you're wrong," Colin asked quietly. "It is a difficult situation. If this is correct, the stakes can be quite high."Emalia looked out the window, almost offended by Colin's question. "I won't be wrong."
"There is no way to tell, is there."
"No... but is there ever a way to tell anything? Nothing is ever certain, is it?"
"I don't know. Some things are."
"Like?" Emalia turned to look at Colin over her shoulder, having found her way to the front window now.
"How I feel about you is."
There would be no more delays. Though Colin tried again to find a way to keep Emalia in the demiplane, she could no longer stay. The journey had to continue. 'Balance,' she reminded herself, 'Balance is at stake. Balance must be restored.'
Emalia sat on the edge of the cliff at the overlook, her eyes riveted on the dead air before her. Only briefly did she think of Hellstrom as she sat down. Her thoughts were mainly on the course of events that had now taken place, and whether or not she had given fate and destiny a chuckle.
She had gone home and told Colin everything and as always, he was there for her, comforting her. She fell asleep in his arms, feeling a bit better and woke the next morning - this morning - dragging Colin to the Jihad compound for a visit with Nephesh. Grobnak be damned, she was going to see the boy now that he was again awake.
The guards should have been her first indication of things to come. The questioning, wary eyes that locked on her as if wondering what she was doing there. After a bit of wandering, they had located Nephesh and all was joy... for a moment. The halfling had been under the impression that the journey had proceeded without him, which triggered Emalia's painful thoughts, which led to her finding out that even Nephesh knew what the Temple was for.
Emalia's mind - snapped. She wanted nothing to do with anyone. In her mind, they were all frauds. The innocents were not at all innocent. She had been duped. She squatted on the ground and let come from her the most soul rending sobs she could muster. Then... then... it happened. The calm.
Like the inside congealing outside, her very lifeforce seeped from her to form a cocoon. It hardened about her - keeping everyone out. From within, she could hear nothing but constant static. There was nothing to see, for the part of her sending for the shield was pure emotion. Only when she realized she was doing it, did she look up and break her focus slightly, right as the boy used his magic to enter her shield.
No sooner had she dropped her force and Nephesh's spell of rejuvenation landed, than the rage within her finally gripped her. She loathed her weaknesses - how could she protect herself if the boy could intrude upon what took her mortal soul to create? If he could get through, anyone with some sort of ability could. Curses upon the journey - for if she couldn't seal herself trying her hardest - she and her child would never be safe. How could she trust anyone to be what they claimed? Her mind snapped shut like a vice - people deserved to die by the RoK, they were vermin.
Her words poured out and seemed to solidify into daggers. She cut into Nephesh with her dark stare, then straight into the heart of Colin when she sent him off with the engagement ring she had thrown at him.
She cast a spell to leave, only to return moments later for her pack. There she saw the effects of her wrath in the form of a sobbing child. Her heart softened a bit, enough to offer an apology. Regardless, if anything else, Nephesh was still a boy.
And so she ended up here - leaving Nephesh to his rest. She wouldn't go home... should Colin be there (which she doubted, but she didn't want to face him). She wouldn't go to the Guardians (no matter that they had no idea of her dilemma and, indeed, may have been the help she truly needed), she wouldn't stay at the compound (she had definitely had enough of finding out just how many others knew about the Temple). Lastly, she wouldn't be going to the Temple, for without being able to protect herself, fate and destiny could shove it. No, she would sleep in the woods tonight, away from people... and everything else.
Still not yet night, she laid upon the grass and put a hand on what would be Brin within her flat belly. She thought of the childs' father and her soul sunk... she had been so cruel. Then she thought of the power she had commanded for the first time. Of all the times she had tried - only once was she sufficiently enraged did it work... what could that mean? She drifted off - the effects of the rejuvenation spell wearing down, her spirit completely drained beyond the spell. Her last thought before her deep, dreamless slumber was hoping that Nephesh would forgive her missing the morning prayers.
She had gone home and told Colin everything and as always, he was there for her, comforting her. She fell asleep in his arms, feeling a bit better and woke the next morning - this morning - dragging Colin to the Jihad compound for a visit with Nephesh. Grobnak be damned, she was going to see the boy now that he was again awake.
The guards should have been her first indication of things to come. The questioning, wary eyes that locked on her as if wondering what she was doing there. After a bit of wandering, they had located Nephesh and all was joy... for a moment. The halfling had been under the impression that the journey had proceeded without him, which triggered Emalia's painful thoughts, which led to her finding out that even Nephesh knew what the Temple was for.
Emalia's mind - snapped. She wanted nothing to do with anyone. In her mind, they were all frauds. The innocents were not at all innocent. She had been duped. She squatted on the ground and let come from her the most soul rending sobs she could muster. Then... then... it happened. The calm.
Like the inside congealing outside, her very lifeforce seeped from her to form a cocoon. It hardened about her - keeping everyone out. From within, she could hear nothing but constant static. There was nothing to see, for the part of her sending for the shield was pure emotion. Only when she realized she was doing it, did she look up and break her focus slightly, right as the boy used his magic to enter her shield.
No sooner had she dropped her force and Nephesh's spell of rejuvenation landed, than the rage within her finally gripped her. She loathed her weaknesses - how could she protect herself if the boy could intrude upon what took her mortal soul to create? If he could get through, anyone with some sort of ability could. Curses upon the journey - for if she couldn't seal herself trying her hardest - she and her child would never be safe. How could she trust anyone to be what they claimed? Her mind snapped shut like a vice - people deserved to die by the RoK, they were vermin.
Her words poured out and seemed to solidify into daggers. She cut into Nephesh with her dark stare, then straight into the heart of Colin when she sent him off with the engagement ring she had thrown at him.
She cast a spell to leave, only to return moments later for her pack. There she saw the effects of her wrath in the form of a sobbing child. Her heart softened a bit, enough to offer an apology. Regardless, if anything else, Nephesh was still a boy.
And so she ended up here - leaving Nephesh to his rest. She wouldn't go home... should Colin be there (which she doubted, but she didn't want to face him). She wouldn't go to the Guardians (no matter that they had no idea of her dilemma and, indeed, may have been the help she truly needed), she wouldn't stay at the compound (she had definitely had enough of finding out just how many others knew about the Temple). Lastly, she wouldn't be going to the Temple, for without being able to protect herself, fate and destiny could shove it. No, she would sleep in the woods tonight, away from people... and everything else.
Still not yet night, she laid upon the grass and put a hand on what would be Brin within her flat belly. She thought of the childs' father and her soul sunk... she had been so cruel. Then she thought of the power she had commanded for the first time. Of all the times she had tried - only once was she sufficiently enraged did it work... what could that mean? She drifted off - the effects of the rejuvenation spell wearing down, her spirit completely drained beyond the spell. Her last thought before her deep, dreamless slumber was hoping that Nephesh would forgive her missing the morning prayers.
A Study in the Way of The World
The Uktar air was crisp as Emalia walked toward Market Square. She had gotten herself out of the house, again with a white lie about needing to visit clan hall. "I'm going to have to do better than that," she thought. "Really." She took in a deep breath, thinking over her recent life changes, when the sign hanging up on Main Street, well, what was Main Street, caught her attention. "Main Street, Kefkaburg" it read. "What in the world..." Emalia continued on until reaching Market Square.
"Without others to rally to our cause, this may all be for naught..." The man who spoke the words had a golden hue to his skin and a pair of wings that caught Emalia off guard for a moment.
"I am a bit disturbed by this, profound number they seem to yield." This man Emalia knew as Sir Epson, a member of her own clan. Seeing the sign in the center of the square asking for taxes, as well as the renamed streets, Emalia ventured to ask what had been going on. "This is the work of the Vectorians," Epson stated.
Emalia knew very little of the Vectorians, and nothing at all of Kefka, but when Epson spoke of the collection of unborn children in exchange for taxes unpaid - it was all she could bear.
"Has no one begun a resistance?" Emalia asked.
"We have repulsed the attempts to obtain tax money thus far," spoke an Elven man.
"We have been doing what we can," Epson spoke, "Sammian, Khyron, Fflar, and I to stop their little waves here and there."
"I assume you two are Sammian and Khyron?" Emalia asked, looking from the winged man to the elven one. With this correct affirmation, introductions were made shortly before Jayden walked into the square.
A small surge of happiness overcame Emalia as she rushed to the man she called Grandfather, but the conversation that resumed sent Emalia into a bit of a depression. Jayden wanted for prayer and faith to resolve the problems. Epson, Khyron, and Sammian wanted some sort of action - though the more Emalia listened, the less convinced she became that they had a clear idea of exactly what to do. In fact, the more she listened to the conversation and the immortal power held by Kefka and the ruthlessness of both he and his followers, the less Emalia felt there was anything to be done.
"Perhaps... we should just pay them... perhaps if we just pool together money, they'll leave," Emalia suggested.
"That is not an option! They will return for more and more," Epson retorted.
"Hmm," Sammian began, "Faith, might provide the resolution we need to calm the masses."
Again with faith, thought Emalia. Faith obviously would not be enough for this wild man. "Sir Epson... what other option do we have? If we don't, have they not threatened to kill? Platinum is nothing compared to life."
"Give an inch and they will take a foot, Emalia. It's what they desire. You cannot honestly think they will stop once they are paid? Because I know differently."
"I would prefer death to life under the rule of that tyrant," Khyron said.
Emalia sat quietly, her mind ticking as the others spoke. She would not allow anyone to take her unborn child, nor would she allow anyone to harm those she cared for. She had heard Jayden's words on faith, prayer, and meditation - but she also knew from her own travels that faith, prayer, and meditation wouldn't stop an orc from slaying you if given the chance, nor stop the RoK in the sky. It was this thought that made her think of Grobnak, and the spies that once had followed her. She thought of the murders that had been committed by necessity, and it dawned on her that this was necessity. "I suppose, then, there will have to be death to prevent death. Perhaps... done in a subversive manner."
To speak of such a thing was unnerving to Emalia, but the knowledge of her child being in danger from a mad man, the knowledge of her family - both Jihad and Guardian - being subject to such torments had driven her to consider darker measures. "I could speak to Grobnak, he has many that engage in such... actions." Emalia lowered her head, detesting the fact she could even speak such words. "If they are assassinated... they can't lead... right?"
"We have no need to turn to Jihad," Khyron objected.
"I am of Jihad," Emalia answered softly. "Besides, something must be done. I am not one to wish death for any, but if we have nothing else but to wait on these vultures to pick off everyone around us, what other choice is there? The God's won't fight our petty battles for us. History is evidence of that."
"Why bother fighting Vector when the city would be destroyed by the RoK anyway?" said Khyron.
"Because, Sir Khyron," Emalia spoke calmly, "that will not bring about the rebirth of the Apprentice."
"Though we may not see eye to eye in terms of faith, we are all threatened by this tyranny," Sammian said.
"At any rate, if the Jihad become involved to stop Kefka... would you refuse the aid?" Emalia asked.
"Nay," said Sammian, "we need all the assistance we can muster."
It was settled in Emalia's mind. She would go to the compound and find Grobnak. She'd face him and talk to him and attempt to get the Jihad to help quell the Vectorian forces. The remaining group scattered at the spotting of a Vectorian Bomb, and Emalia cast a spell, landing her at the Compound gates.
She rushed to the chapel and down the stairs, but as she ran, something slowed her down. On her way to Grobnak's office were tapestries and portraits. Jenova's history was here, as well as some of the snarling and smiling faces of Jihad past and present. For reasons unknown they slowed her, but still, she walked on.
Knocking on Grobnak's door met her with no answer. She cracked the door and looked inside. No one. Though she had been in the room other times, she had not really noticed the tapestries that hung here, too. Jenovese and Talosians fighting battles and destroying their opposition. Quickly, Emalia reached into her pack and pulled forth a book given her long ago by Grobnak. She thumbed through a few of the pages until her eyes rested on a passage that read:
"The Vectorian Empire:
Though their bigotry toward espers is despicable, this empire seems the most likely resource to grant us the technology we need to overcome our foes. Convert them when you can. Destroy only those you must. Treat themas you would an ally, but never turn your back on them,or you will discover their treacherous ways."
Emalia slowly closed her book and sat heavily in the chair in Grobnak's office. She leaned her head on the back of the seat and looked upward to the ceiling and closed her eyes. She suddenly had the answer to any Jihad rising up against the Vectorians... and the book held the clearest warning she had regarding this takeover. For the first time, Emalia was afraid. For the first time, she saw just how opposing her loyalties were. For the millionth time, she found herself wondering... "What now?"
"Without others to rally to our cause, this may all be for naught..." The man who spoke the words had a golden hue to his skin and a pair of wings that caught Emalia off guard for a moment.
"I am a bit disturbed by this, profound number they seem to yield." This man Emalia knew as Sir Epson, a member of her own clan. Seeing the sign in the center of the square asking for taxes, as well as the renamed streets, Emalia ventured to ask what had been going on. "This is the work of the Vectorians," Epson stated.
Emalia knew very little of the Vectorians, and nothing at all of Kefka, but when Epson spoke of the collection of unborn children in exchange for taxes unpaid - it was all she could bear.
"Has no one begun a resistance?" Emalia asked.
"We have repulsed the attempts to obtain tax money thus far," spoke an Elven man.
"We have been doing what we can," Epson spoke, "Sammian, Khyron, Fflar, and I to stop their little waves here and there."
"I assume you two are Sammian and Khyron?" Emalia asked, looking from the winged man to the elven one. With this correct affirmation, introductions were made shortly before Jayden walked into the square.
A small surge of happiness overcame Emalia as she rushed to the man she called Grandfather, but the conversation that resumed sent Emalia into a bit of a depression. Jayden wanted for prayer and faith to resolve the problems. Epson, Khyron, and Sammian wanted some sort of action - though the more Emalia listened, the less convinced she became that they had a clear idea of exactly what to do. In fact, the more she listened to the conversation and the immortal power held by Kefka and the ruthlessness of both he and his followers, the less Emalia felt there was anything to be done.
"Perhaps... we should just pay them... perhaps if we just pool together money, they'll leave," Emalia suggested.
"That is not an option! They will return for more and more," Epson retorted.
"Hmm," Sammian began, "Faith, might provide the resolution we need to calm the masses."
Again with faith, thought Emalia. Faith obviously would not be enough for this wild man. "Sir Epson... what other option do we have? If we don't, have they not threatened to kill? Platinum is nothing compared to life."
"Give an inch and they will take a foot, Emalia. It's what they desire. You cannot honestly think they will stop once they are paid? Because I know differently."
"I would prefer death to life under the rule of that tyrant," Khyron said.
Emalia sat quietly, her mind ticking as the others spoke. She would not allow anyone to take her unborn child, nor would she allow anyone to harm those she cared for. She had heard Jayden's words on faith, prayer, and meditation - but she also knew from her own travels that faith, prayer, and meditation wouldn't stop an orc from slaying you if given the chance, nor stop the RoK in the sky. It was this thought that made her think of Grobnak, and the spies that once had followed her. She thought of the murders that had been committed by necessity, and it dawned on her that this was necessity. "I suppose, then, there will have to be death to prevent death. Perhaps... done in a subversive manner."
To speak of such a thing was unnerving to Emalia, but the knowledge of her child being in danger from a mad man, the knowledge of her family - both Jihad and Guardian - being subject to such torments had driven her to consider darker measures. "I could speak to Grobnak, he has many that engage in such... actions." Emalia lowered her head, detesting the fact she could even speak such words. "If they are assassinated... they can't lead... right?"
"We have no need to turn to Jihad," Khyron objected.
"I am of Jihad," Emalia answered softly. "Besides, something must be done. I am not one to wish death for any, but if we have nothing else but to wait on these vultures to pick off everyone around us, what other choice is there? The God's won't fight our petty battles for us. History is evidence of that."
"Why bother fighting Vector when the city would be destroyed by the RoK anyway?" said Khyron.
"Because, Sir Khyron," Emalia spoke calmly, "that will not bring about the rebirth of the Apprentice."
"Though we may not see eye to eye in terms of faith, we are all threatened by this tyranny," Sammian said.
"At any rate, if the Jihad become involved to stop Kefka... would you refuse the aid?" Emalia asked.
"Nay," said Sammian, "we need all the assistance we can muster."
It was settled in Emalia's mind. She would go to the compound and find Grobnak. She'd face him and talk to him and attempt to get the Jihad to help quell the Vectorian forces. The remaining group scattered at the spotting of a Vectorian Bomb, and Emalia cast a spell, landing her at the Compound gates.
She rushed to the chapel and down the stairs, but as she ran, something slowed her down. On her way to Grobnak's office were tapestries and portraits. Jenova's history was here, as well as some of the snarling and smiling faces of Jihad past and present. For reasons unknown they slowed her, but still, she walked on.
Knocking on Grobnak's door met her with no answer. She cracked the door and looked inside. No one. Though she had been in the room other times, she had not really noticed the tapestries that hung here, too. Jenovese and Talosians fighting battles and destroying their opposition. Quickly, Emalia reached into her pack and pulled forth a book given her long ago by Grobnak. She thumbed through a few of the pages until her eyes rested on a passage that read:
"The Vectorian Empire:
Though their bigotry toward espers is despicable, this empire seems the most likely resource to grant us the technology we need to overcome our foes. Convert them when you can. Destroy only those you must. Treat themas you would an ally, but never turn your back on them,or you will discover their treacherous ways."
Emalia slowly closed her book and sat heavily in the chair in Grobnak's office. She leaned her head on the back of the seat and looked upward to the ceiling and closed her eyes. She suddenly had the answer to any Jihad rising up against the Vectorians... and the book held the clearest warning she had regarding this takeover. For the first time, Emalia was afraid. For the first time, she saw just how opposing her loyalties were. For the millionth time, she found herself wondering... "What now?"
The Master's Words
Nephesh awoke to the sound of scuffling feet. He'd overslept... again. Hadn't these humans ever heard of morning naps? They always wanted to wake at dawn and gather to worship. He understood the symbolic importance, but his body rebelled. It hadn't gotten any better during the past two winters, either. Why did they subject him to this torment?
Dragging himself from his bunk, the halfling boy lethargically donned the oversized pink robes the other priests had bequeathed him and joined the shuffle of feet to witness the rising sun. The sight filled him with awe, as it always did. The dramatic shapes of the clouds contrasting sharply with the colors of the dawn brought him - and all true Lathanderites - to his knees in worship. There were times he thought he could hear music when the day was still new.
He'd learned many things since Grobnak had sent him here. Once, he'd thought the orc a traitor to Jenova, but time had taught him differently. He missed the intelligence behind those eyes. Few could understand what drove that creature: Fear, Self-hatred, and a desire to become more than what he was. Nephesh was uncertain whether he should pity the beast or destroy it. The beast, however, had become his adoptive father... and liberator.
Time passed in meditation as Nephesh tended to the various chores he'd been assigned in the temple. It never ceased to amaze him how limited humans were: As a halfling, he could reach into smaller crevices than they. He got some of the more intriguing jobs as a result.
It was further into the day when he was called into the new Rector's personal study. He was expecting another reprimand from the old man for stealing something he hadn't - did everyone believe that that was the only thing halflings were good for? – but instead the old man had a message to deliver, in the form of an old scroll.
Nephesh stood by and silently listened to the aged priest prattle on about the destruction of the Realms and how the Jenovese were evil, and that it was against everything Lathander stood for, for nearly three hours before he was finally given the scroll containing his master's message. Gods, how he missed the kindly old woman who'd run the temple before; at least she had been one of the Faithful.
Unrolling the gilded vellum, Nephesh's brown eyes raced over Grobnak's hastily jotted script. It seemed a simple enough task: keep her on the path and beware the strangers she traveled with. Walking over to a censer, Nephesh threw the scroll into it, observing the cloud which suddenly billowed forth - in the likeness of the girl he sought: Emalia.
Dragging himself from his bunk, the halfling boy lethargically donned the oversized pink robes the other priests had bequeathed him and joined the shuffle of feet to witness the rising sun. The sight filled him with awe, as it always did. The dramatic shapes of the clouds contrasting sharply with the colors of the dawn brought him - and all true Lathanderites - to his knees in worship. There were times he thought he could hear music when the day was still new.
He'd learned many things since Grobnak had sent him here. Once, he'd thought the orc a traitor to Jenova, but time had taught him differently. He missed the intelligence behind those eyes. Few could understand what drove that creature: Fear, Self-hatred, and a desire to become more than what he was. Nephesh was uncertain whether he should pity the beast or destroy it. The beast, however, had become his adoptive father... and liberator.
Time passed in meditation as Nephesh tended to the various chores he'd been assigned in the temple. It never ceased to amaze him how limited humans were: As a halfling, he could reach into smaller crevices than they. He got some of the more intriguing jobs as a result.
It was further into the day when he was called into the new Rector's personal study. He was expecting another reprimand from the old man for stealing something he hadn't - did everyone believe that that was the only thing halflings were good for? – but instead the old man had a message to deliver, in the form of an old scroll.
Nephesh stood by and silently listened to the aged priest prattle on about the destruction of the Realms and how the Jenovese were evil, and that it was against everything Lathander stood for, for nearly three hours before he was finally given the scroll containing his master's message. Gods, how he missed the kindly old woman who'd run the temple before; at least she had been one of the Faithful.
Unrolling the gilded vellum, Nephesh's brown eyes raced over Grobnak's hastily jotted script. It seemed a simple enough task: keep her on the path and beware the strangers she traveled with. Walking over to a censer, Nephesh threw the scroll into it, observing the cloud which suddenly billowed forth - in the likeness of the girl he sought: Emalia.
See the light
The bell tolled the midnight hour as Emalia slipped from her room in the Spire of Morning Temple. She looked up and down the hall, hoping that outside the very, very, very early risers, Colin would not see her or follow her. She was hoping to be able to slip out beneath the stars and into Ardeep to have but a moment alone, but as she slid down the stairs, she caught sight of a familiar figure.
The man stood there, much as he did earlier, looking as though he was ready to do more damage. Emalia hesitated, unsure of whether she should turn around, when the man noticed her. Too late to run. Emalia descended the rest of the stairs - oddly struck by just how many people were still awake within the temple. She approached the figure, her hands clasped in front of her, as the man shouted out his desire to find "faithful." "I heard you earlier," Emalia began, hoping to determine what this man might be doing here, moreover, hoping to determine whether or not she had even heard his earlier display correctly, "how can you hope to persuade by being so violent?" "Who are you.""I believe I might be one of which you spoke earlier, but I wouldn't dare act the way you did to prove it." Emalia watched the figure with a calm reserve that would have, perhaps, made her father proud.
They spoke a bit, all the while Emalia continued to look over her shoulder. That she should be worried so deeply on whether Colin would come down the stairs actually irritated her. He wasn't her keeper, he shouldn't be so concerned. Her attention went to the now revealed face of the man calling himself Xarkuss. Eyes like a snake, though they gave her no fear. If one could look upon Grobnak and be kind, a bescarred man would be an easy task. It wasn't until she perceived his hands moving to where he might have weapons, that she backed away.
Emalia had barely mentioned Nephesh, and the fact that the boy was also a faithful, when Colin's voice came floating down the stairs, "Emalia... what are you doing?"
Colin's wary gaze set Emalia off inside. He was not her keeper! "I'm speaking with a person I've recently met."
As they all stood there, Colin wrapped in a warped sense of cuckoldry, Xarkuss being subjected to this show of brute jealousy, Emalia's eyes grew darker. Xarkuss soon excused himself, and when Colin finally decided it was time to eat, Emalia left him standing with a view of her door in his face.
Emalia had not time to read the note she had slipped into her robe from Xarkuss' hand, before a gentle knock cut across the silence of her room. "Who is it and what do you want." She said, knowing full well all aspects and answers to her question.
"You're upset with me, aren't you?" Colin asked when he had been given permission to enter. It was a foolish question and it sent Emalia reeling.
"Colin, I think you should leave. I don't mean this room, I mean this temple."
It took little time for Colin to admit just how jealous he was. And not much longer after that for him to plead his case for staying. Before she could truly go into her reasons for irritation, yet another knock came into the room. The small halfling boy, Nephesh, walked in and immediately, Colin knelt down, offering apologies to him.
It was irritating, yet Emalia couldn't help but admire the desire for this man to win back her good graces. Both Nephesh and Colin reconciled some of their differences, when both Colin and Emalia heard the voice. Emalia knew nothing else but that she had to go to the mountains. Where, why, she didn't know. But they had to go. They had to go - now.
Nephesh could barely slow her for the ritual of greeting the newly risen day, and Colin could barely have it sensical for her to gather provisions.
The sun rose, and Emalia's thanks were given to Lathander. Without knowing where Tamilyn had disappeared to, knowing that they would need to leave very soon, it was decided to leave a note for Tamilyn within the temple. The note... Emalia went to her room, making certain to use packing as an excuse, and pulled the note from her robe that she had been given earlier. "Midnight..." Emalia read.
It couldn't be done. The voice of The Apprentice himself had urged her to the mountains, they had to leave today. She glanced at the note again, the parchment suddenly blank and devoid of any form of ink. Something here was not what it should be.
The man stood there, much as he did earlier, looking as though he was ready to do more damage. Emalia hesitated, unsure of whether she should turn around, when the man noticed her. Too late to run. Emalia descended the rest of the stairs - oddly struck by just how many people were still awake within the temple. She approached the figure, her hands clasped in front of her, as the man shouted out his desire to find "faithful." "I heard you earlier," Emalia began, hoping to determine what this man might be doing here, moreover, hoping to determine whether or not she had even heard his earlier display correctly, "how can you hope to persuade by being so violent?" "Who are you.""I believe I might be one of which you spoke earlier, but I wouldn't dare act the way you did to prove it." Emalia watched the figure with a calm reserve that would have, perhaps, made her father proud.
They spoke a bit, all the while Emalia continued to look over her shoulder. That she should be worried so deeply on whether Colin would come down the stairs actually irritated her. He wasn't her keeper, he shouldn't be so concerned. Her attention went to the now revealed face of the man calling himself Xarkuss. Eyes like a snake, though they gave her no fear. If one could look upon Grobnak and be kind, a bescarred man would be an easy task. It wasn't until she perceived his hands moving to where he might have weapons, that she backed away.
Emalia had barely mentioned Nephesh, and the fact that the boy was also a faithful, when Colin's voice came floating down the stairs, "Emalia... what are you doing?"
Colin's wary gaze set Emalia off inside. He was not her keeper! "I'm speaking with a person I've recently met."
As they all stood there, Colin wrapped in a warped sense of cuckoldry, Xarkuss being subjected to this show of brute jealousy, Emalia's eyes grew darker. Xarkuss soon excused himself, and when Colin finally decided it was time to eat, Emalia left him standing with a view of her door in his face.
Emalia had not time to read the note she had slipped into her robe from Xarkuss' hand, before a gentle knock cut across the silence of her room. "Who is it and what do you want." She said, knowing full well all aspects and answers to her question.
"You're upset with me, aren't you?" Colin asked when he had been given permission to enter. It was a foolish question and it sent Emalia reeling.
"Colin, I think you should leave. I don't mean this room, I mean this temple."
It took little time for Colin to admit just how jealous he was. And not much longer after that for him to plead his case for staying. Before she could truly go into her reasons for irritation, yet another knock came into the room. The small halfling boy, Nephesh, walked in and immediately, Colin knelt down, offering apologies to him.
It was irritating, yet Emalia couldn't help but admire the desire for this man to win back her good graces. Both Nephesh and Colin reconciled some of their differences, when both Colin and Emalia heard the voice. Emalia knew nothing else but that she had to go to the mountains. Where, why, she didn't know. But they had to go. They had to go - now.
Nephesh could barely slow her for the ritual of greeting the newly risen day, and Colin could barely have it sensical for her to gather provisions.
The sun rose, and Emalia's thanks were given to Lathander. Without knowing where Tamilyn had disappeared to, knowing that they would need to leave very soon, it was decided to leave a note for Tamilyn within the temple. The note... Emalia went to her room, making certain to use packing as an excuse, and pulled the note from her robe that she had been given earlier. "Midnight..." Emalia read.
It couldn't be done. The voice of The Apprentice himself had urged her to the mountains, they had to leave today. She glanced at the note again, the parchment suddenly blank and devoid of any form of ink. Something here was not what it should be.
Compounding Problems...
Sanria lay in her bed, her back to the steady breathing of Colin, who was sitting in a chair nearby. She had hit another low in her life and all she could wonder is what she could have done to change it.
Two weeks before she lay in bed, she was at the gates of the Jihad compound. She'd woken up at the gates of Throm's vanished house, and knew the only place he'd be was with Grobnak. So she stormed through the gates, entangling the front guards, and ended up for all her troubles, in a holding cell with several bruises on her arms.
But she was right. Throm was there, in the cell beside hers. She was relieved to find him, but worried about the fact that she was in here also nagged at her. The two spoke for what felt like several hours before Grobnak approached her cell door. "Have you calmed yourself, Sinner?"
"I should say so."
"This one attempted to break into the Compound and has personally insulted myself and our entire organization. What would you do with one such as this if they stormed the home of the Guardians?" Grobnak asked Throm.
"A woman after my own heart."
"Just let him out. You can do whatever you need to do to feel justified to me."
"Throm is here of his own accord, Sinner."
"Why then is he locked up?" Sanria barked.
"So that he does not leave with a dangerous substance he has stolen in the past."
Sanria could not see Throm in the next cell, willing Grobnak to shut his mouth, but confusion and sudden curiosity got the better of her. "What? What substance?"
"That is not your concern, Sinner," Grobnak hissed.
"Throm? What is he talking about?"
"All will be explained Sanria...I promise. Now is not the time though."
Another coverup. Another deflection of true purpose. Sanria slid to the ground, not really understanding until several more words had passed that Throm was in the compound seeking more black makou. Her heart, in that moment, froze and she sat with her chin on her knees. She'd put her life on the line to save Throm, only to discover that he had returned to the compound for that evil, vile substance. She felt duped.
She was put out at dawn, after hearing a bit of conversation between Grobnak and Throm... about a book... and then... about dreams. Emalia was in a dream. It gave her hope, and she raced home to share the news.
Two weeks before she lay in bed, she was at the gates of the Jihad compound. She'd woken up at the gates of Throm's vanished house, and knew the only place he'd be was with Grobnak. So she stormed through the gates, entangling the front guards, and ended up for all her troubles, in a holding cell with several bruises on her arms.
But she was right. Throm was there, in the cell beside hers. She was relieved to find him, but worried about the fact that she was in here also nagged at her. The two spoke for what felt like several hours before Grobnak approached her cell door. "Have you calmed yourself, Sinner?"
"I should say so."
"This one attempted to break into the Compound and has personally insulted myself and our entire organization. What would you do with one such as this if they stormed the home of the Guardians?" Grobnak asked Throm.
"A woman after my own heart."
"Just let him out. You can do whatever you need to do to feel justified to me."
"Throm is here of his own accord, Sinner."
"Why then is he locked up?" Sanria barked.
"So that he does not leave with a dangerous substance he has stolen in the past."
Sanria could not see Throm in the next cell, willing Grobnak to shut his mouth, but confusion and sudden curiosity got the better of her. "What? What substance?"
"That is not your concern, Sinner," Grobnak hissed.
"Throm? What is he talking about?"
"All will be explained Sanria...I promise. Now is not the time though."
Another coverup. Another deflection of true purpose. Sanria slid to the ground, not really understanding until several more words had passed that Throm was in the compound seeking more black makou. Her heart, in that moment, froze and she sat with her chin on her knees. She'd put her life on the line to save Throm, only to discover that he had returned to the compound for that evil, vile substance. She felt duped.
She was put out at dawn, after hearing a bit of conversation between Grobnak and Throm... about a book... and then... about dreams. Emalia was in a dream. It gave her hope, and she raced home to share the news.
Whining and Pining
Emalia slept only long enough to restore the most minimal of her energy. The very first thing she saw upon waking, was Colin. He laid by her side, his arm around her, staring down upon her with what she assumed was a mix of pity and worry. She couldn't really speak, and anytime she did her voice was simply quiet and subdued. She couldn't really move either. The whole scene was oddly reminiscent of the first time she and Colin were ever together, though this thought was far from her mind.
"I wish I could make them all just leave you alone," Colin said as he rubbed her arm.
"Me too," Emalia entoned quietly. "I don't think they will, though."
They continued talking, Emalia taking the time to explain to Colin just what she had felt when she "healed" Grobnak. She took time also to assure him that Brin was fine. So irritated at being weak, Emalia tried to rise but found herself unable to. "Emalia, please, just rest for now. Is there something you want?" Colin asked.
"I suppose not. I just hate being so weakened. I wish my father were about. He could perhaps heal me and all would be better."
"Do you know where he is?"
"Chasing my mother," Emalia muttered.
"Oh?"
"You weren't aware?" Emalia turned to look upon Colin.
"No. Should I have been?"
"Well, I thought I told you about it, but perhaps I hadn't. He went north shortly after the Vectorian invasion to help my mother," Emalia sighed in frustration. "He wouldn't even stay for me. And I asked him to."
"I see. I'm sorry. I suppose we aren't the only ones with a journey to make."
Emalia realized at that point just how many people Colin had not been introduced to. So many people in her family didn't know she was with him, or pregnant by him, and the realization made her feel guilty in an odd way. Colin, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind at all. His only thought was wishing no one was around, and that they could simply be left alone. No sooner had he made his thoughts known than a knock sounded upon the door.
"I wish I could make them all just leave you alone," Colin said as he rubbed her arm.
"Me too," Emalia entoned quietly. "I don't think they will, though."
They continued talking, Emalia taking the time to explain to Colin just what she had felt when she "healed" Grobnak. She took time also to assure him that Brin was fine. So irritated at being weak, Emalia tried to rise but found herself unable to. "Emalia, please, just rest for now. Is there something you want?" Colin asked.
"I suppose not. I just hate being so weakened. I wish my father were about. He could perhaps heal me and all would be better."
"Do you know where he is?"
"Chasing my mother," Emalia muttered.
"Oh?"
"You weren't aware?" Emalia turned to look upon Colin.
"No. Should I have been?"
"Well, I thought I told you about it, but perhaps I hadn't. He went north shortly after the Vectorian invasion to help my mother," Emalia sighed in frustration. "He wouldn't even stay for me. And I asked him to."
"I see. I'm sorry. I suppose we aren't the only ones with a journey to make."
Emalia realized at that point just how many people Colin had not been introduced to. So many people in her family didn't know she was with him, or pregnant by him, and the realization made her feel guilty in an odd way. Colin, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind at all. His only thought was wishing no one was around, and that they could simply be left alone. No sooner had he made his thoughts known than a knock sounded upon the door.
Master of Puppets (Pulling Strings)
Seventy Seven had told him of the Cetra who had caused the Church so much grief, just as Grobnak had spoken of the Stream Woman, Emalia and her search for the Temple - and how her Faith was ailing. Halethiel found these things distasteful: The woman had abilities that posed a threat to their plans, and the Cetra had proven to be an irritant in an otherwise flawless system. He had no patience for liabilities - it was time they became assets.
The Cetra had recently arisen to prominence amidst other foes: The Guardians. The Stream Woman was with child by one of these Guardians, and surely the child would share her abilities. The zealotry of the Cetra was well-known to the Church. The time had come to turn it into a weapon in his own hands.
These were the thoughts that went through Halethiel's mind as he cast the spell that would bring the dreamer to him. The Cetra arrived on cue in his wonderland, eyes wide with curiosity and wonder at the world he now found himself in. Hovering in the air, he levitated the puppet-woman towards his target. Mystra herself had a message to deliver to this... Throm, whom had been so disruptive to his plans.
At the sight of his goddess gliding before him, Throm knelt in awe. She glowed, ethereal tendrils of power emanating from her body, her eyes glowing, as she spoke to him, "My worthy servant, Throm," she said, "I have summoned you to perform a task."
"You need only ask, Lady," Throm replied, looking up at his goddess as she floated before him. She seemed almost plain, for a goddess, but the description fit. He felt a little skeptical, but some portion of his consciousness came to the realization that this was a dream, and only a true goddess could contact him in this manner.
"There is a woman, Emalia, who has been contaminated by agents of the Lady of Poison. Soon, all of the Realms will be engulfed in virulent plague at her touch. She must be saved, Throm. She has been infected by a mad man called Grobnak. Only you can save her and stop this disease from spreading."
Throm felt anger stirring in his chest and his stomach tightening as she spoke. It made sense. He didn't know Colin very well, but he had seen the pair. He knew that she had left Grobnak's mad circle of friends, just as she had left the Guardians. He knew also that a man like Grobnak had no conscience - she would be the perfect subject for experimentation to him. Already he knew that he would do whatever he could to help. He could not let this pass - that snake was a threat to humanity, and to the planet itself.
"There is a substance called Black Makou that was used to make this disease. It must be used to cure it, as well. You must find some of this substance, Throm, and deliver it to Emalia's lover, Colin. He will not know what to do with it yet, but the time is soon coming when he will." As she spoke, the woman's form began to change, dissolving into a glowing white orb that pulsated from its center. "My faithful steward, will you do this?" the voice of the woman asked, still speaking from within the will o' wisp.
"I will," Throm replied, anger lending conviction to his words "and I will not rest until it is done."
The Cetra had recently arisen to prominence amidst other foes: The Guardians. The Stream Woman was with child by one of these Guardians, and surely the child would share her abilities. The zealotry of the Cetra was well-known to the Church. The time had come to turn it into a weapon in his own hands.
These were the thoughts that went through Halethiel's mind as he cast the spell that would bring the dreamer to him. The Cetra arrived on cue in his wonderland, eyes wide with curiosity and wonder at the world he now found himself in. Hovering in the air, he levitated the puppet-woman towards his target. Mystra herself had a message to deliver to this... Throm, whom had been so disruptive to his plans.
At the sight of his goddess gliding before him, Throm knelt in awe. She glowed, ethereal tendrils of power emanating from her body, her eyes glowing, as she spoke to him, "My worthy servant, Throm," she said, "I have summoned you to perform a task."
"You need only ask, Lady," Throm replied, looking up at his goddess as she floated before him. She seemed almost plain, for a goddess, but the description fit. He felt a little skeptical, but some portion of his consciousness came to the realization that this was a dream, and only a true goddess could contact him in this manner.
"There is a woman, Emalia, who has been contaminated by agents of the Lady of Poison. Soon, all of the Realms will be engulfed in virulent plague at her touch. She must be saved, Throm. She has been infected by a mad man called Grobnak. Only you can save her and stop this disease from spreading."
Throm felt anger stirring in his chest and his stomach tightening as she spoke. It made sense. He didn't know Colin very well, but he had seen the pair. He knew that she had left Grobnak's mad circle of friends, just as she had left the Guardians. He knew also that a man like Grobnak had no conscience - she would be the perfect subject for experimentation to him. Already he knew that he would do whatever he could to help. He could not let this pass - that snake was a threat to humanity, and to the planet itself.
"There is a substance called Black Makou that was used to make this disease. It must be used to cure it, as well. You must find some of this substance, Throm, and deliver it to Emalia's lover, Colin. He will not know what to do with it yet, but the time is soon coming when he will." As she spoke, the woman's form began to change, dissolving into a glowing white orb that pulsated from its center. "My faithful steward, will you do this?" the voice of the woman asked, still speaking from within the will o' wisp.
"I will," Throm replied, anger lending conviction to his words "and I will not rest until it is done."
Tinge of Doubt
Fate. It had to be, nothing short of it, really. Emalia had heard no voices this day, but as she got off of the horse-drawn cart in Port Llast, rubbing her back end no less, she ran into a lady she had spoken with many times before in Market Square of Westbridge. There really was no confusing her, the green eye and hazel looked over Emalia's shocked face, seeming to gather in an instant that Emalia was doing something she "shouldn't." A few brief apologies passed before Emalia was clued in to the fact that she had done the right thing: "Emalia, I've no idea why we have come to meet on this path, but I have been looking to speak with you."
Emalia and Dorian seated themselves at an oak table in the Alliance Arms Inn.
It hadn't changed since the first time she had been there to buy lemonade for Hellstrom, nor the more recent time before she had gone to Waterdeep. Now, however, she had company at the oaken table.
Emalia downed her two glasses of lemonade, and in short order, found out that Dorian was a member of the Sunites. "What magic fate! That's wonderful!" Emalia straightened, her face gleaming. "Then you can tell me where to find this, Keldon fellow."
"No. I cannot tell you."
"Isn't he Sunite as well?" Emalia asked, slumping in her seat.
"He surely is that and one most cherished."
"I just needed to ask him something."
"If you do not mind, what are you wanting to ask him?"
Emalia spent a few moments getting to what her desire was, directions. She was on a journey to the Temple of Light to find her path in life. She had been told Keldon knew how to get there. Once there, she assumed easily that the Priests would aid her in discovering herself. It was only when Dorian mentioned, "One of those..." that Emalia became confused. "Many," Dorian said, "seek Keldon and the place he resides, most for the wrong reason." And it was with this that Emalia sat wondering what the wrong reason could possibly be. She found herself wondering why, exactly, it had been suggested so easily for her to take this, as her journey to self discovery.
Looking over at Dorian, Emalia found herself wondering about Grobnak. Before she could delve into her own thoughts on the matter with any scrutiny, Dorian began scratching at the ground by her foot and looking rather pained.
Emalia saw the woman shiver and moved to help, but something in her own mind held her back. She was on the verge of an explanation from Dorian, but it would have to wait. "Suffice it to say, Keldon can be contacted," Dorian said through her pains. Emalia watched her, confused and worried.
"Keep safe, be sure to do that."
"I shall do my best."
Dorian parted from Emalia's company, barely able to recite her spell to vanish. Emalia stood in the middle of the inn for a long moment. The urge to continue was overwhelming and so she again headed out on the mountainous road with thoughts circling her. "One of those..." "Wrong reason..." She didn't know in the least what it could mean, but hearing it come from the mouth of someone like Dorian, who had helped her before, was unsettling. Almost as much so as the orcs that seemed to be growing in number the farther north she traveled.
Emalia and Dorian seated themselves at an oak table in the Alliance Arms Inn.
It hadn't changed since the first time she had been there to buy lemonade for Hellstrom, nor the more recent time before she had gone to Waterdeep. Now, however, she had company at the oaken table.
Emalia downed her two glasses of lemonade, and in short order, found out that Dorian was a member of the Sunites. "What magic fate! That's wonderful!" Emalia straightened, her face gleaming. "Then you can tell me where to find this, Keldon fellow."
"No. I cannot tell you."
"Isn't he Sunite as well?" Emalia asked, slumping in her seat.
"He surely is that and one most cherished."
"I just needed to ask him something."
"If you do not mind, what are you wanting to ask him?"
Emalia spent a few moments getting to what her desire was, directions. She was on a journey to the Temple of Light to find her path in life. She had been told Keldon knew how to get there. Once there, she assumed easily that the Priests would aid her in discovering herself. It was only when Dorian mentioned, "One of those..." that Emalia became confused. "Many," Dorian said, "seek Keldon and the place he resides, most for the wrong reason." And it was with this that Emalia sat wondering what the wrong reason could possibly be. She found herself wondering why, exactly, it had been suggested so easily for her to take this, as her journey to self discovery.
Looking over at Dorian, Emalia found herself wondering about Grobnak. Before she could delve into her own thoughts on the matter with any scrutiny, Dorian began scratching at the ground by her foot and looking rather pained.
Emalia saw the woman shiver and moved to help, but something in her own mind held her back. She was on the verge of an explanation from Dorian, but it would have to wait. "Suffice it to say, Keldon can be contacted," Dorian said through her pains. Emalia watched her, confused and worried.
"Keep safe, be sure to do that."
"I shall do my best."
Dorian parted from Emalia's company, barely able to recite her spell to vanish. Emalia stood in the middle of the inn for a long moment. The urge to continue was overwhelming and so she again headed out on the mountainous road with thoughts circling her. "One of those..." "Wrong reason..." She didn't know in the least what it could mean, but hearing it come from the mouth of someone like Dorian, who had helped her before, was unsettling. Almost as much so as the orcs that seemed to be growing in number the farther north she traveled.
Setting Off
Emalia walked out of the eastern gates without the faintest clue where she was headed. There was no way she was going back to Melancholy's Maps after what had happened with Melchior, and due to him, she doubted she'd be going back into Westbridge anytime soon.
The road to the east was sparsely populated, which suited her fine, but her packs had already begun to weigh her down. Knowing it would take a bit of her energy, she cast a easy spell, and a disk materialized from thin air beside her. She hefted her pack onto it and sighed lightly, having her load dispersed.
The eastern road stretched as far as she could see and so, she gathered, she would simply follow it. Emalia glanced behind her and suspiciously around her. No followers.
Good. Even if there were any, the chance that she would have known would have been disastrously low - having not even the minimal of ideas of what to look for. It didn't matter - looking around helped her to calm herself.
The sun passed the midday point before Emalia had any idea where she was going. She would travel farther than she had before. She would visit the Temple of Lathander, the God she had read about from Grobnak's tomes. Renewal, Rebirth, and the Morning Lord might calm her mind and point to her the next steps she should be taking toward the Temple of Light.
Emalia passed the crossroad that lead to the Torregiano gates. Elbryan might very well be there now, reading. Again she looked around, the idea of spies rising in her head, but there was no one that particularly looked as though they cared who she was or what she was doing there or where she was going. What would he say of this journey? Going to a temple based on the name sounded idiotic at best, but she wouldn't be stopping in to ask his opinion.
She was traveling alone now, off to commune with Lathander in the hopes that there would be answers. The last thought she had as she approached the gates of New Thalos were the hope that her messengers had done what she paid them to do.
The road to the east was sparsely populated, which suited her fine, but her packs had already begun to weigh her down. Knowing it would take a bit of her energy, she cast a easy spell, and a disk materialized from thin air beside her. She hefted her pack onto it and sighed lightly, having her load dispersed.
The eastern road stretched as far as she could see and so, she gathered, she would simply follow it. Emalia glanced behind her and suspiciously around her. No followers.
Good. Even if there were any, the chance that she would have known would have been disastrously low - having not even the minimal of ideas of what to look for. It didn't matter - looking around helped her to calm herself.
The sun passed the midday point before Emalia had any idea where she was going. She would travel farther than she had before. She would visit the Temple of Lathander, the God she had read about from Grobnak's tomes. Renewal, Rebirth, and the Morning Lord might calm her mind and point to her the next steps she should be taking toward the Temple of Light.
Emalia passed the crossroad that lead to the Torregiano gates. Elbryan might very well be there now, reading. Again she looked around, the idea of spies rising in her head, but there was no one that particularly looked as though they cared who she was or what she was doing there or where she was going. What would he say of this journey? Going to a temple based on the name sounded idiotic at best, but she wouldn't be stopping in to ask his opinion.
She was traveling alone now, off to commune with Lathander in the hopes that there would be answers. The last thought she had as she approached the gates of New Thalos were the hope that her messengers had done what she paid them to do.
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