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Stitia, Plane of 13 Deaths (RPG Style Saga/My First Saga)
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She didn’t dump him. In fact, they’re about to be reunited; as he rests, you steal his soul, and drink deep from Demonsong. Blech... this man may of just been more pure hearted than that cleric...
The sun rises, at least, what little bit it can, as you fly over the town to see what opportunities you can leverage, when you notice a fresh convoy of five corpse wagons, headed to a boat on the way to Padetra. This is practically a smorgasbord on wheels to you. A plethora of different souls, all without the effort of having to steal them from the living. They may be much weaker after death, but this many of them will provide you with much sustenance.
No one seems to notice you as you start in the rearmost wagon, drinking in soul after soul. Now comes the hard part; going wagon to wagon, you may get caught, as the wagon escorts are told to look out for any suspicious movements in the wagon, in case someone is still alive, or ends up zombified. The guards shouldn’t be a major threat, so you hop over to the next wagon, and continue your feast. You haven’t felt this powerful in a while. If only this happened more often...
As you cross over to the third wagon, you feel a pair of eyes. Someone may of seen something. Not that it matters much... you proceed to start sucking more souls dry as the convoy continues to move. “Hold the wagons. I think I saw something up there.”
“Hold the wagons!” The horseman in charge of pulling the wagon yells out. The wagons come to a stop, and guards begin to surround the wagon you’re in. “Halford, check the wagon...”
The ramp in the back is dropped, and they notice you in the wagon. It’s the same guard that caged you yesterday. “What in damnation- how do you keep getting back on the streets?! Shoo! Shoo!”
Fine... you run out of the wagon as though spooked, but in reality, you’re just holding out for another chance to continue your feeding. You hide and get to a rooftop ahead, and the wagon continues its route. Suddenly, it stops near your perch. The leader of the convoy is talking to a man. You’re on the Main Street of town now, and people are probably going to notice your antics. Thankfully, being a cat, your hearing is sensitive enough to overhear their conversation.
“So, could you please stop holding us up? We’ve got some weird cat with wings trailing us. It’s giving me the creeps.”
Suddenly, the man the leader is talking to looks up, and he notices you. He points to you. “You.. mean that cat over there?”
The leader notices you. “Alright you! I don’t know what your deal is, but you need to quit it!” The man picks up a rock and throws it. However, seeing as you are on the top of an apartment building, the stone was only meant to spook you. You stay, watching over the wagon. “I really don’t freaking like this! I’m getting the chills from that thing!”
“Are you going to wet yourself over a cat, sir? Or are we going to get a move on? We’re already 30 minutes behind schedule.” The leader’s assistant urges him to hurry.
“Well, I’ll be. Let’s move it people! If we take too long, that cat will be the least of our concerns!”
You loosely follow the wagon, staying out of sight as it goes to port in Dydyg. Town after town you pursue them, reaping the occasional soul of a vulnerable passer-by to sate your appetite. You almost can’t resist the urge to jump in one of the wagons now, but you know your patience will be worth it, as it’ll be an entirely different story once the boat heads to Padetra...
One Hour Later...
Challenge Two
The wagoners wave the boat off as it leaves dock. You managed to find a building right next to port, so you fly headlong towards the boat while no one is looking, The corpses should be in the cargo hold...
As you slink through the boat, a couple people notice you, but don’t mind you. It’s the guards you have to avoid. The escort tipped off the captain, and they’ll be looking for you. This makes it troublesome as you get to the belly of the ship. There are guards galore, probably six of them immediately in your way.
Make a card to deal with six Corpse Escorts. Points will given based on how well your response works against the enemy, as well as the realism of the card and how it suits your character’s colors and ideals.
You entry will be scored from 0-15. Any score below a ten will count as a miss, and you will take one hit for each point below 10 your score is. Your current HP is 10.
Criteria:
• 5 points for overall effect and balancing.
• 4 points for realism, following color pie, and proper rarity. You may lose a point if the effect of the card is unclear.
• 3 points for fitting the colors and themes of your character (GWUB Growth)
• 2 points for if the card would realistically do anything against the target cards in an actual game of Magic.
• 1 point for flavor (text not required; mainly checking if overall fell of the card fits its art, name, etc.).
• You will lose three points if the entry is not new.
• You cannot submit any card you’ve submitted so far for this contest.
Secundus added Draudr's conditions at the bottom of the contract.
"Considering your status a superior demonic entity, you will be allowed free movement, so these are not entirely unreasonable conditions. You will serve directly under lord Xataxji's commands, taking orders from no one else. Of course, for the five following years, you will have to cease all activities with the Coven of Aranis, and you will not be allowed to swear alliegeance to another entity." The lich entered his own signature at the botttom of the parchment, then offered Draundr his pen.
"Sign right here, please."
Draundr obliged. As soon as the pen left the paper, he felt a burn on his left arm. Upon inspection, he saw that a peculiar marking had appeared on the inside of his wrist: a purple worm coiled in a spiral, opening a maw to reveal sharp fangs.
"Now, the reading. I would ask you to remain quiet, and focus on keeping your thoughts as neutral as possible. The less interferences, the better."
Draundr retreated to one side of the room as the lich began murmuring incomprehensively. The runes on the table glowed green, creating a moving pattern across the black stone slab. As the mumbling continued, the bones started trembling, then shaking violently, rattling against the table, as swirls of green energy coursed through them. Secundus was completely entranced now, and had stopped his strange incantation. He carefully touched each bone, his fingers slowly tracing invisible patterns along the knobs and curves of the remains.
It lasted hours. Draundr was beginning to lose patience, but suddenly the rattling stopped and the green glow vanished. Secundus was holding Darna's skull: he put it down carefully, almost religiously.
"So ?" Asked the demon.
"So... it seems your friend Darna here made... powerful ennemies. Have you been in conflict with the Six or their servants lately ?"
"Not personally. Tell me more."
"Well, he was killed by holy fire. It explains the complete removal of flesh. His soul was banished by the fire, which is why it was impossible to revive him, and made the reading quite difficult. This is only achievable by the Six themselves or their highest ranking angels, as far as I know. To go to such an extent means that your friend was considered a major nuisance to them, so much that simply killing him wasn't enough."
Draundr was dead silent now. It was worse than he expected.
"I delved deeper, continued Secundus, and found more. You see, the holy fire destroyed everything that Darna was, but it left its own trace, a sort of energetic signature. I was able to read it to decipher the last events before the tragedy. I will cut the professional slang for you, but basically Darna was fleeing. The attacker was angry at him, enraged almost. He was chased from Hitcherald and alongside the southern Woewedt coastline, all the way to the Padetran border. In the attacker's mind, Darna was a thief, or a spy. Does that ring a bell ?"
"I don't..." Started Draundr, but then he remembered his last meeting with the Left Hand. Darna had prepared for a solitary and secret journey, but that was all that he knew. Before leaving, he had told Draundr that this was "something huge", and entrusted him to the secret of his departure to who-knows-where. Now he knew.
"He went to Hitcherald... why ?"
Secundus shrugged. "The cleansing was done to make sure this sort of information couldn't come up. But it left names to read in the bones. Four to be exact. Four angel names." He looked straight into Draundr's eyes "You can do whatever you want with this information... However, remember that you are now an official, if only temporary, servant of Xataxji. Do not compromise him."
The lich took the skull and presented it do Draundr. On its forehead, he read out four names burned into the bone.
Kerial. Azalphos. Enedris. Raphael.
@Tommia Considering that Xataxji is basically a demonic cult leader/mafia boss, I think I will have a lot of interactions led by underlings (like the lich Secundus here). Xataxji himself would get involved in big events.
//Tommia! Major action here, I went and signed a pact that will bind me to Xataxji after I finish my quest//
"I thank you, Secundus, I hope that if my quest is successful I can work with you and Xataxji further."
"And I the same, now, lets get back to my lord and Mastiffa." Secundus replied in turn.
And with that, they transported back to the Oklein Manor.
As you teleport to the Dawnwood Hometree, you notice that the Changing Arcanum isn’t in the North of Racrion anymore. Instead, it’s northeast of Racrion, on an island. It stutters, as though it may cease to exist at any moment.
“Gentlemen. We are here.”
“Arne! Welcome back! More injured travelers?” The High Dawnelf greets you.
“Two injured Triskaidians, Madame Brocara. A leonin from the Arcanum and an Archangel. They’ll need proper medical attention. See... for some reason, healing magic has ceased to work on Triskaidians, or else I could of healed them on the spot.”
“Well that’s no good.” Brocara claps her hands, and two elves come out. “Medical, two. Healing magic isn’t working. Get our best clerics on the case.”
On the case? About a minute after the two elves leave, four well dressed elves rush into the room with stretchers. This is starting to seem a lot less like an elven territory and more like a medical facility. Both of you are motioned onto the stretchers, and you are carried into a healing chamber, where a mass plethora of surgical tools are at the ready.
“Claw marks, cut through the right shoulder. A... clipped wing?” The healer tending to Niyan is bewildered. “Arne! I thought you said only one of them were angels!”
“Right. It’s only temporary, but one of my underlings sacrificed their sigil to give him a Retributionist’s power.”
“Erm... okay! So do we mend the wing or not?”
“Don’t tell me you’re not going to mend it!”
“Sorry sir! I won’t question you again!”
Meanwhile, Rafael’s situation is much more urgent.
“Severe puncture wound to the abdomen, appears to trail towards the heart and out of the back! Arterial bleeding coming from near the heart! We need to stop it!” The main cleric in charge of healing Rafael is driven hysteric.
“Oh Zythl, please lend this man your strength!” A cleric nearby, apparently unaware that their healing magic won’t work, is trying to cast a healing spell.
“What’s going on over here?!” Arne leaves Niyan’s side to check Rafael’s situation. He realizes what’s happening in a mere glance. “Dear Gods! Everyone clear out! I’m going to have to redirect blood away from the heart. Rafael... you’re not going to be awake for a while, but trust me when I say you’re in good hands.”
With a grasp of Arne’s hand on Rafael’s temple, Rafael goes to sleep. Arne then concentrates a small amount of magic energy in his hand, and aims it towards the wound, stopping the bleeding. While Arne can’t heal Rafael, he can at least keep him from bleeding out.
A few hours later
Niyan has been patched up, and is currently drinking an herbal tea that encourages healing. He says a prayer for Rafael. This angel saved his life. Meanwhile, Rafael is still asleep, and due to Arne’s spell, pulseless. The Dawnelf are able to tend to the wound, but they had to get outside assistance. A Sangromancer was required in order to perform a blood transfusion of this magnitude quick enough, and Arne can’t do it, since he is trying to keep Rafael from bleeding.
“Are you sure he isn’t dead?!” The cleric feels for a pulse and finds none.
“I know what I’m doing, madame. His life essence is very much still inside of him.” Arne’s hands are shaking. One of his own kind are here, and one simple mistake could cost them their life.
“Ahem... I did not expect the Dawnelf to ask a devil for assistance.” A fat, red skinned devil walks into the room acting rather formal and polite, especially for a devil. That must be the sangromancer. “Anyways, who are we taking blood from? It’s better if they aren’t living. It’ll look bad on me if my first outreach results in malpractice.”
“Not living?” It’s High Dawnelf Brocara. “Erm... Sharline, could you fetch this man a cadaver?”
One of the clerics leaves the room. She returns with another elf. Both of them are carrying a corpse. “Ah yes! That should be perfect! Now, please clear the area. You don’t want to be drank dryer than Descour in drought, do you?”
Everyone clears out of the room, except Arne.
“Um, sire... I know you’re an angel, but I seriously don’t-“
“I can’t move.” Arne has no patience for this. “The moment I release this spell, my comrade could bleed to death. I assure you that if you are somehow so unskilled at your profession that you manage to fail a simple blood transfusion, I will not suffer any serious consequences, other than perhaps the chance I won’t be able to stop myself from smiting you.”
“EEP! Oh- erm- okay! Very well.” The devil utters a minor incantation as the corpse rises. The blood rushes overhead in a stream, filling the room, and then it swirls into Rafael’s wound.
“Thank you sir. I can finish from here.” Arne releases his spell. Using sangromancy skills of his own, he forces the wound to start healing, and resumes the flow of blood through Rafael’s body. His pulse is coming back, and he jolts awake.
“Thank the Six!” Everyone around breaths a collective sigh of relief. “Thank you for your peoples’ assistance, Brocara. We couldn’t of saved this man without great people like you...”
Although that would mean more work would need to be done, hey @Tommia, if this thread picks up would you require more people to help write out prompts?
Alright, I did my part, now you two continue your parts so the event can continue
My friend might be coming to hijack Schoren btw
As the guards approached, Gistix looked deep into Demonsong. He thought of its powers, and which one he should use. (LORE CARD)
He remembered its power to transform itself into a kind of vacuum, to pull in the weak and powerless. Needless to say, he transformed it, and waited to see if this worked like he thought it should.
"i hope all your business result in fruitful benefits, now I can take care of my things"
You open up the door to the bar to Teegar’s friends waiting at the nearest table, and, as is tradition, slam it. You may have overdone it, as the door cracks against the frame. The band playing in the back of the bar stops for a moment. Just as if the entire world looked at you in fear, every single person in the bar notices you. Teegar is notorious among these people. Feared by them. Everyone knows his name, and what he can do, whether he’s doing it for them or to them. You dig through his memories again. The last time Teegar came here was a month ago, when a bar fight resulted in the death of one of Teegar’s friends. Teegar brutally killed the culprit, and the fallout was so bad that the bar had to be shut down, and the remains weren’t even suitable for taking to Treyble. You don’t want to look any deeper, but you then see Teegar grab the culprit’s soul with an ephemeral projection of his hand, and destroy it...
“So how are you little runts doing?” You do your best to stay in character as you sit at the bench side of the table, taking up the whole bench. This is going to be difficult. The band starts playing again, but you can tell their nervousness just shot up to eleven.
“We were doing fine without you...” You give the devil a dirty look. He chuckles “But now we’re doin’ great! Welcome back!” He goes to shake your hand, and you try not to crush his. This guy, a bit chubby but very tall, is Jamtoe. The one straight across from you is lanky, wearing a human leather jacket and smoking a soul pipe. His name is Lectric. And the third one, to your right, looks like he’s seen some trouble. With a cloth on his head, scars on his face, and a knife twirling around in his hand, Ribboncutter certainly looks tough for his name. Then you look deeper into Teegar’s mind... Ribboncutter is known for... skinning people...
“So, anyways... how much money you got to blow today?” Crap! Ribboncutter just made a point you should of thought of earlier. You look in your pockets, and realize you only have 15G; that’s only enough to afford a meal capable of sating Teegar’s immense hunger and a couple of Teegar’s favorite drinks. But... at least you’ll be prepared for the wagon heist. “Gee... you sure Treyble’s paying you enough?” You explain that you had to spend it all on weapons. “Holy smokes! 1200G on freaking weapons?!”
“Whoa! Did you at least get some for me, big guy?” Lectric looks at you with endearing eyes, as if he actually expected you to give him one.
“Yeah, Lectric. I did. I got a nice new hook that’ll go straight through your skull if you ask me again.” Lectric knows you’re only kidding, but even still, he’s clearly intimidated.
“Hooks? I hope that wasn’t the majority of your purchase!” Jamtoe says as he kicks his feet up onto the table. Welp... now you know why he gets his name, as the smell is horrendous.
Lectric slaps Jamtoe in the face. “Clean it up, Jamtoe! How long has it been since you’ve washed?!” Ribboncutter uses his cloth to cover his nose. You try to act like it doesn’t bother you, but your soul wants to vomit.
“Did you just ask a demon how long’s it been since they washed? Hah! Demons only bathe in blood and clean up crimes!”
“Even Teegar washes himself, you dimwit! That crap ain’t sanitary!” Ribboncutter really looks like he wants to take his knife and stab Jamtoe in the foot with it. “Now feet off the table before I slice your toes off!”
“I’m always willing to do you guys a favor and just rip his smelly *** feet off for you. Legs may come with them though.” You give Jamtoe a nasty look. It could just be the environment rubbing off on you, but a bit of you was actually serious. Then again, maybe his feet do smell that bad.
“Okay! Feet are coming down!” Jamtoe is scared now. Finally, someone comes over to serve your table. Ribboncutter slams down 6G for a house special; Steak... cooked in blood. His drink, angel tears. Has Etsane really been this taken over by demons?! It seems like you just walked right into a restaurant in Nasita!
“I’ll pay three for the regular.” Jamtoe orders probably the most normal sounding thing on the menu. Eggs, bacon, and toast.
“Ahem.” It’s Lectric’s turn to order. Is that a 50G coin?! “Your... specialty platter.” Something tells you that that is definitely not a mere platter. Demons are known to have simple talk for their... under the table affairs.
You finally finish looking. None of this sounds appetizing, but you need to eat, so you get the most bang for your buck you can, which is, ironically, Teegar’s favorite. A whole chicken. It’s going to be quite unsettling eating it like Teegar though...
Two hours later...
You are vomiting over the side of your boat just from sheer repulsion. That “Specialty Platter” was actually human. What have you gotten yourself into, possessing anyone with friends like this?
“Captain! Are you okay?! What’s wrong?!” One of you crewmen rush over to you. How are you going to cover this up? But then you realize it’s quite simple, actually. After digging through his mind, you realize Teegar has an egg allergy. “I told you to stop getting the chicken!”
Now that you are finally done, you prepare to head towards Delvad. Days have passed, and tomorrow, the convoy runs through...
"I bid you farewell, now I must go." Draundr left to go back to the Coven
Legendary Character Encounter - People Tell Stories
Both of you continue to follow a strange man further into Dawnwood Territory, when Verth lands in a tree and turns back into a human, so he may not draw suspicion. The owl that was following him earlier lands next to him, and hoots. The man looks at the owl, then at Verth. Uh oh... Vryx and Arlin notice this. The secret is probably out. The man pulls something out of his pocket and snaps his fingers. “Hona paci! Dazi unbaie, Zarven!” It’s a hand full of birdseed, and the owl eats away at it. The man turns around, and Vryx and Arlin can’t hide in time this go round.
“Stop following me. You’re giving me the creeps. I know you want to know my secrets on Timothy, but I won’t give them to a lycanthrope. Now can you please leave? I’ve got business to tend to.”
Arlin comes forth. Maybe being a former Dawnwood member, she could convince him. “Sir. I’m Arlin Cherlain, a former member of Dawnwood.”
“Before your death by the Bloodwood? I sense it in your soul. If you re an ally to these people, then I guess there’s some information I can share. But I will not share with you any information that can be used to help Timothy. You could be protecting him, for all I know. Let’s make this quick please.”
“Um, first, uh... I’d like to ask your name.”
“My... name...? No one has ever asked me my name in ages. If I didn’t write it down, I would of forgotten it by now. If... I tell you my name, you promise you won’t judge me based on it, right?”
Judge? Who is he then? Is he Timothy? Verth comes down to get a better listen, and all three of them agree to his unusual term. “My name... is Joseph Bigham. Resident lycanthrope hunter from Earthrealm. 1226 years old and counting. 1227 come July.”
This man has got to be lying. There’s no way. Those were just rumors, weren’t they? But then, Vryx realizes something... if the rumors are true, Joseph also worships “Christianity” which could make this hit or miss process a lot more difficult.
“Hmhmhm. I know you don’t believe me.” The man has no birdseed left in his hand, and the owl is staring at him, wanting more. “Damn! Are you hungry, or what, Zarven?” He pulls out more seed and gives it to Zarven. “Anyways, if I had one thing to prove to you that I am who I am, what would it be?”
You can question this man now. Think of something that only Joseph would have or know. Alternately, how about something only Timothy would have or know? If you can trick him into that, and he is in fact Timothy, you could end this here...
Alternately, you can continue the conversation some other way.
Joseph was a former planeswalker whose spark ignited when he was 13. Rumors state he was born on Earthrealm, went to Tommia, and, as a consequence of dooming the plane, was exiled to Stitia as it was created., cursed to never age.
Things he might know:
- History
- He may know the Six. They weren’t always gods.
- Stitia was supposedly half of Tommia during the Ephemerian Collapse. He may not be aware of the name of the plane he’s on.
// That stressed Joseph quite a bit...
“Because I can’t leave! The last time I went to Tommia, I lost my spark when I... when I... oh god...” Joseph’s mood suddenly changes. He sulks, and accidentally drops the birdseed for Zarven. Zarven dives to the ground to pick it up. “The Eldrazi! Damn them! We were this freaking close, THIS CLOSE to saving Tommia once and for all! And we lost it! That hedron blade I was given... it was corrupted! And I- I couldn’t hold it back. Voices... they... they twisted me, and they made me betray him. Angel Destiny... I’m sorry I couldn’t save you...”
Joseph is groveling on his hands and knees as it all comes back to him. Every second as that blade bore down on his most trusted ally, and with it, the last hope for the entire plane. The very event that set Stitia’s creation into motion.
“And... you!” Joseph stand up and points an angry finger at Verth. You can feel his aura shift from mystery to hatred. “What do you have to say about my concern with lycanthropy, Verth the Moon Meddler?!” Joseph, enraged, unbuttons his coat and raises his shirt to reveal a massive scar from a werewolf bite. He’s infected! “When Tommia began to collapse for good, things started pouring in. Supernatural horrors. Demons. Werewolves. I ended up being bitten. Thankfully, they were able to cure me with... what little generosity they had left.” He yanks his shirt back down and takes off his coat. “I had been doing fine for a millennium without you here! And one night, the moon flashed to crimson, and suddenly, my lycanthrope starting kicking in again! My silver ring’s practically only a limiter at this point! It used to be the key to my humanity, but when you and Uvras did what you did, it ruined my life! Not only did you create more of a problem for me, but you broke what had been fixed for over one thousand years, and made my job that much more difficult in the process!”
Joseph turns around, and with full force, punches the nearest tree in rage. He holds his chest and collapses to the ground, breathing faintly and wheezing.
Important details (AKA tl;dr)
Details supporting Joseph
- Strong attachment to past.
- Does not seem to know about Uvras’s rings, despite knowing about Verth and Uvras’s gambit with the moon.
- Knows a completely different method to curing lycanthrope, although it has since stopped working.
Details supporting Timothy
- Knows of Verth and Uvras’s gambit with the moon. This could be due to Joseph’s soul reading, but he seems to have a very strong attachment to it
Details Confirming Both
- Confirmed Christian
- Strong attachment to lycanthrope
A massive wave of guilt washed over Verth as he watched Joseph collapse. When Verth's great plan was put into motion, he hypothesized that there would be some collateral damage, but seeing this seemingly innocent man break down into tears made Verth's heart sink. While this was very difficult to watch, Verth knew very little about Joseph or Timothy. All he knew was to watch for a list of signs, and this man matched many of them. Verth went back and forth on whether or not he should speak, but eventually, he decided to honor the teachings of his family and do the right thing.
"You're right, Joseph..." Verth softly relented. "I have made a terrible mistake. In my haste to save innocent lives, I have put just as many lives in danger. And for that I owe you my sincerest apologies." Verth paused. He needed to choose his words far more carefully from this point on. Uvras told him to trust no-one, but there had to be more to this man's story. He managed to sway Vryx to his cause through his words, so why couldn't he with Joseph?
"But please know that my actions were for a goal that we share: to save this plane from the evil that threatens it. I used to think that my sharpshooting skills alone would we able to do the job. I learned the hard way that there was more to it than just that. I was outnumbered and outclassed by things that I had never seen before. I spent years researching the lycanthrope, and time and time again I learned that I was powerless against the lycanthrope without the use of silver, and even that began to lose its effectiveness..." Now it was time to confess.
"I was running out of time, so I used their power against them to stop the spread of evil in Delvad. And I've made great progress as well. With the rise of the Crimson Moon came the near extinction of the lycanthrope by my hands. I can make your job easy again, but to do that I need your help. You don't have to be my ally or my friend, but please. Let me make it up to you. Tell me what you know about Timothy and I will see to it that your humanity is restored. That is a promise." Verth braced himself for whatever kind of reaction that Joseph was going to make. Although he desired a more friendly outcome, Verth readied his magic ring in case Joseph fled or attacked.
Can you please explain...
Why Christianity???