Melsathaes is the codename given to a team of four Sightless Eye agents who have been hired onto the expedition under the guise of mercenary scouts.  While they can perform those duties, their real task is to be the eyes and ears for their mistress, Alera N'Rali.  Their primary interest is uncovering secrets and identifying political and economic opportunities Alera can exploit  Despite their cover story to the contrary, they have no concern for the rest of the expedition beyond its ability to help them to that end. 

Given the Sightless Eye operates as a cult, the agents of Melsathaes worship Alera as an aspect of the Silent Watcher, an old minor deity who is the patron of scouts, spies, and those who seek what is lost, forgotten, or unknown.  This worship is how Alera keeps tabs on her agents and how she will be kept appraised of what Melsathaes discovers, as well as pass any useful information back to them. 

Each has access to an arcane ability they call the True Sight, which allows them to detect dangers and subtle details, making them peerless sentries and investigators.  Members of the Sightless Eye consider it a divine mystery and speak little of it to outsiders.

Aliza
   Most senior agent.  A veteran of some of Le'raana's most exotic and dangerous locales, she is a flexible operator who is too inured to the weird to panic in the face of horrors from beyond the veil, having vanquished a few herself.  Received orders directly from Alera, which is a rare and coveted honor amongst the Sightless Eye.

Eswild
   Trailblazer.  Eswild's duties largely consist of long tours of uncharted wilderness to map sites for deeper exploration by other agents.  This also makes her a skilled hunter and tracker, able to analyze the land and make a solid guess as to where a target may have gone. 

Brythe
   A member of the Sightless Eye's kill squads.  Brythe is a well-trained stalker, assassin, and assault troop, serving as Alera's bloody dagger to silence those who threaten her power.  Her placement with Melsathaes is to ensure the team's cover remains intact and no one hinders their mission overlong.  Unlike the stereotypical assassin, she functions well with a team and in a straight fight. 

Aengen
   Alchemical specialist.  While not a stranger to field work, Aengen's primary responsiblilty is the development of poisons, tranquilizers, and other potions to aid other field agents.  As part of this work, she identifies flora and fauna for suitable reagents and conducts autopsies on test subjects.  While not a proper doctor, she is familiar enough with physiology to perform chirurgeon duties if pressed. 

Since many of us are going to be stuck inside for several more weeks yet, I've been kicking around the idea of running a FATE game for folks here who are interested.  No prior FATE knowledge will be required. 

Stuff to download
FATE Core rulebook
FATE Core character sheet
FATE Core large type character sheet
FATE Core extended form-fillable character sheet
FATE Accelerated rulebook
FATE Accelerated character sheet
FATE game creation worksheet
FATE character creation worksheet

Online Rules at FATE SRD: https://fate-srd.com/

What is FATE?
FATE is a pen-and-paper roleplaying game published by Evil Hat that targets a different style of game than D&D.  It puts less of a priority on intricate rules and more on character-driven mechanics and storytelling.

Why FATE?
FATE is easy
FATE has very few rules and fewer mechanics that need to be learned, so it's easier to get new people up to speed.  There's also a lot less hunting around in books looking for specific rules, abilities, and interactions.

FATE is fast
Building off of the above, the actual dice rolling of FATE doesn't take very long, since a single simple dice-rolling mechanic is used for everything.  The creation of characters also involves a lot less hunting through rulebooks looking for the one class that best suits your character idea (since you get to make up all your abilities yourself).  How long FATE takes depends on how long you want to spend getting into character.

FATE is flexible
FATE is robust and easily modified, so it can be adapted to any kind of game we want to play.  We may need to create some systems, but that's okay because FATE is designed to easily to support that and has guidelines for doing so.

FATE is free
The core rulebooks for FATE -- those without any licensed setting material -- are pay-what-you want, and that includes not paying at all.  These core rulebooks are all very good and are more than sufficient to get a complete game going.  This means there's no cost barrier to entry and you don't need to worry about yo-ho-ho'ing the rulebooks from somewhere.  However, if you like the game, please support Evil Hat if you can afford it (I know times are tough right now; they wouldn't want you to feel pressured to pay up and neither do I).  Evil Hat are good people and they deserve the love and support, however you can express it.

FATE is collaborative
FATE puts a lot of emphasis on the group telling the story and building the world together.  It's everyone's game, not just the Gamemaster's. 

Will it be an SotE-themed game?
Only if that's what everyone wants.  We'll be building the game together as part of FATE's campaign creation guidelines.  If people would rather do another fantasy setting, a sci-fi game, or something like CATastrophe, that's what we'll do. 

How big will the group be?
4-8 people.  If enough people express interest, I may keep a few people as backups in case someone can’t make the time commitment

Who is welcome to join?
Anyone who can make the time commitment for at least a couple sessions.  I don't know how long the game will run -- it's possible it may only be a one-off game -- but I also want to run a Session Zero where we create the game and characters together.  During Session Zero, we'll come up with a more specific time commitment that works for everyone. 

I've never played a tabletop RPG before.  Can I still join?
Yes!  Absolutely!  FATE is designed to be a really beginner-friendly system.  It's why I chose it for this and why FATE is my preferred game for introducing new people to my favorite hobby.  If you're new to the hobby and want to dip your toes in, by all means, please join!

Where will this game be hosted?
I'll be running the game on Discord.  Online FATE doesn't really need a digital tabletop the same way online D&D does.  If we find we need a digital tabletop, I'll try to find a free option that works for everyone.  Any collaborative writing that needs to be done -- such as during the character creation process -- will be done on Google Docs

Do I have to use voice chat?
It would be very much preferred.  A lot can be done faster if everyone can talk rather than waiting to type.

Do I have to use video chat?
No.  I won't be because I don't actually have a webcam.  You're welcome to turn on the webcam if you feel comfortable do so.

Can I stream the game?
I was considering streaming it myself, but only if everyone in the group is comfortable with it.  If that's the case, you're welcome to run your own stream from your perspective or host mine.

I see two different games here: Core and FAE.  Which one will we be using?
FATE Core and FATE Accelerated (FAE) are largely the same game.  The only differences are in the skills and damage system.  Core has a longer list of skills and two damage tracks.  FAE condenses everything into six skills and one damage track.  The result is FAE starts and runs faster, but Core has a bit more granularity.  Grab both; we'll decide which one we want in Session Zero.

I see these "System Toolkits" here.  What are they?  Do we need them?
System Toolkits are guidebooks for expanding the basic FATE rules to deal with different game types and subjects.  We don't strictly need any of them to play, but some might be beneficial depending on what kind of game the group ultimately decides on.  Feel free to take a look at them to see if they inspire any ideas. 

Do I need to create a character before showing up?
No.   In fact, I would ask that you don't even try.  Like everything else in FATE, character creation is a group effort.  Your character will have a history with at least a couple other characters which will be determined as part of Session Zero.  Show up with a couple character ideas if you come up with them, but don't get too attached to any of them because you may end up reworking them or coming up with new characters during Session Zero.

Then what should I bring?
   • Ideas for a campaign or campaign setting
   • A device capable of running Discord and Google Docs
   • A decent microphone
   • Copies of the FATE Core and FATE Accelerated rulebooks in whatever format is most convenient for you, as well as the associated character sheets. 
      ○ You don't need to read them cover-to-cover, but familiarize yourselves with the first few chapters, particularly the game creation and character processes, if you have the time.
   • A general idea of your Wants and Limits (you can use SotE's W/L page as a guideline for what that means)
      ○ You don't need to prepare a specific list -- we'll be going over it as part of Session Zero -- just give it some thought.

You've mentioned Session Zero a lot.  What are you talking about?
Session Zero is the pre-game session.  It's where we lay out our ideas for the game world, come up with campaign ideas, pick a story tone, and create our characters together.  It's also where we establish ground rules and make sure everyone's limits are understood.  FATE has a very solid method for running Session Zero and it's one of the game's greatest strengths that sets it apart from D&D. 

Session Zero is the most important session.  If you want to be part of the game, you have to be there for Session Zero.  I may make an exception based on extenuating circumstances, but that's not a guarantee; things get complicated if I have to try to run a make-up Session Zero. 

Okay, this all sounds great.  How do I join?
Either DM me on Discord at foreverunforgiving#4519, reply to this thread, or PM me here on the site.  Please include your preferred days and times for the game.  You can also ask me any questions

When will the game start?
Probably a couple weeks from now, depending on how quickly the group fills up.


Interest List:
Celeste Adra
Miracle Mira
Eckhart Von Musel
Wolfborn
Imperfect_M
IntrovertedGamer

The village of Hahill had been dead when Serish had left three days ago to hunt down the infestation of gruffs that had been stampeding through the few suitable farming plots on this part of the mountain and the gardens of half the people in the village.  Aside from the priests that seemed to run the village, there had barely been enough people around to keep the place running; most of the houses were dark and locked up, no one was on the streets, and the local inn was only serving two other patrons in a hall meant for a fifty. 

So it came as something of a shock to Serish when, upon returning, the streets were packed.  Carts and wagons were double-parked, everywhere she looked, leaving barely enough room for the hundreds of people swarming over them like ants to unload and carry off the cargo.  Sunset was still a couple hours off, but over the bustle of the revitalized town, Serish could still hear musicians plying their trades from somewhere amongst the crowds.

:Well, they're looking lively,: Xaraea noted.  :Seems the village is seeing a windfall.  I wonder if we can take a little off the top.:

Serish considered the sack of gruff horns she had slung over her shoulder, trophies from her hunt and the only proof she had for the job.  She'd had to settle for fifteen coppers a head -- or pair of horns, at this point -- instead of the twenty plus hazard pay she'd wanted.  The trouble with gruffs, and the one thing the alderman had refused to believe about them despite all the supporting evidence, was they tended to get bigger and meaner the more of them you killed.  Yes, the ones that had been trampling the gardens were easily dispatched, but Serish had rather quickly graduated to gruffs big enough to trample her before driving the herd off this part of the mountain.  Horns large enough to hold a week's worth of lamp oil were worth more than fifteen coppers individually, let alone as a pair.  But, if Xaraea was right, the village being flush with new goods might mean the alderman would be willing to pay a little extra now that Serish had proof the problem was a little bigger than he'd wanted to believe. 

"Sorry, fifteen is still as high as we'll go," the alderman chortled, handing her a pouch of coins before downing another swig of ale.  Serish felt a blood vessel in her forehead throb.  The old man hadn't been in his house where she'd first met him and she'd asked a resident where he was.  The resident had, kindly, pointed her in his direction, only for Serish to find when she got there that the alderman had moved elsewhere in the village.  After going through that five more times, she eventually found him amongst he densest concentration of carts in the town square, which were still loaded down with goods.  Serish had been convinced he was deliberately avoiding her, but now, seeing how rosy his cheeks were getting and the subtle slur creeping into his speech, perhaps he'd just taken a tour to sample all the varieties of alcohol the town had brought back from wherever it had gone.  He likely didn't register her scowl and continued before she could lodge a protest.  "But, what we can do... Look at this sheepskin.  Have you ever seen such fine sheepskins?  You're welcome to take some as payment, in recognition for your hard work."

"I'd prefer something that traveled a little lighter," Serish answered, trying to keep her voice tempered while still leaving the unspoken implication of like coin lingering in the air between them. 

"Of course, of course," the alderman answered, turning back to paw through the carts, completely oblivious.  "Let's see here, leather...pottery...axes..."

:Something tells me we'll not find much of value in this podunk little hovel,: Xaraea groused.  :We may just have to beat the money out of him.:

"Cordwood...blank scrolls..."

"Wait, really?"

The alderman stopped his inebriated rummaging, "Yeah.  You want some?"

Serish planted her feet and tried not to sound too interested.  "Maybe.  Depends."

The alderman pulled three small tubes out of one of the carts and handed them to Serish.  The first two held thick rolls of parchment, enough for a couple manuscripts.  But the third--

:Oh, hello,: Xaraea remarked. 

Inside the third was at least half a dozen individually-rolled sheets of vellum.  It wasn't the best vellum in the world, but to any frontier village or town it was still luxuriant in the extreme.  This alone was probably worth more than half Serish's sack of gruff horns. 

:Better not make mention of that, dear.:

:Hadn't planned on that.:

Serish tucked the tubes under her arm and turned her attention back to the alderman, who'd already gone back to digging.  "Have anything else?"

"Traveler like you, you gots to have some use for herbs, right?  Medicinal and whatnot?"

Serish had to admit he had her pegged on that one.  Master Ephes hadn't taught her much alchemy, but she did know enough that it'd saved her life in the field in the past.  She'd lost her alchemy pouch after the Ancin had killed her and and the orcs had looted her corpse, and while the Serha Plains had offered a few ingredients, she'd exhausted most of what little she'd been able to collect in her hike through the treacherous terrain of the Thunderblacks.  She took the sturdy leather pouch the alderman offered her -- not as nice as the one Ephes had given her, but still up to the task -- and flipped it open.

:Elftail, King's grass, jewelhood... oooh, ambertea.  You could make some fine poisons with these, love.  Did I ever tell you about the time I killed the king of Nelibi with springshoe extract?:

:No, but-- Wait, you started the War of the Starsong?:

Xaraea gave a throaty chuckle with barely-contained pride.  :Yes, you should have seen the looks on the faces of the Dolarond delegation as the king's flesh withered.  It was as if they had just set their own city ablaze.:

:Nelibi did burn Instow to the ground with the entire population barricaded inside.:

:And your father fed well that day.  The power that flowed from so many mortals begging for salvation from any entities they could name... Power that will one day be yours, my sweet, when we find the Skull.:

"These will do nicely," Serish told the alderman, not wanting to entertain thoughts of her father or his enchanted prison. 

The alderman answered with a rumbling basso guffaw.  "Of course, of course.  With those weregoats gone, we should be able to grow more before the winter, thanks to you."

"Gruffs," Serish corrected idly, buckling the herb pouch onto her belt.  "Well, if that's all you have, I guess I'll turn in for the evening."

"Whatever for?" the alderman roared as he took up his tankard again.  "The party is already starting!"

Serish tracked the tankard skeptically.  He hadn't been anywhere near this hospitable sober.  "I can see that.  What party?"

"We've just sold our finest batch of stone yet.  Everything you see in these carts, paid for by the best masonry in the central kingdoms!  We're drinking in the new year!"  He threw his arms wide, knocking a stack of wicker baskets out of the cart behind him and, judging by the furious squawking that followed, onto an unfortunate chicken.  The man didn't seem to notice and downed some more ale.  "Come, stay.  I can already smell Macha baking her world famous pork buns!  I'll tell Druso to hold your room for you!"

Serish shifted uncomfortably, not sure how seriously she should take the offer.  She certainly couldn't smell any pork buns, just the barnyard stink of dozens of animals all in a confined space, and most towns she'd been to had been very keen to have her on her way before sunrise.  Hahill hadn't been any different, and it wasn't until she'd agreed to leave town after she'd taken care of the gruff problem that the alderman had finally agreed to pay her. 

:Come on, Serish, live a little!: Xaraea whined as the alderman walked away in the direction of the inn.  :Or at least as much as we can in this muddy backwater.  And if they do try to throw us out we can kill a few before we leave.  We haven't had fresh food in weeks, so let's at least take theirs while they're offering.:

Serish's stomach gurgled at the mention of fresh food.  Xaraea was, as usual, right.  It had been a long time since she'd eaten anything other than trail rations and cured meat.  What few places she could afford to eat would rarely serve her.  None had known for certain she was a demonhost, but everyone acted like they could smell it on her.  But if the alderman and everyone else were going to be too drunk to notice or care...

:Alright, let's go join the party.:

:Oh no, not like that we aren't,: Xaraea cut in, manifesting her human form -- that of a tall, striking woman with tanned skin and chocolate hair dressed in harem jewelry and a diaphanous slip that could only stay on her body by means of magic -- to give Serish a walkaround, her bare feet never quite touching the muddy ground.  "A set of dirty, lived-in armor is something I wouldn't be caught dead in at a party of any kind, even one as lowbrow as this.  No, something nicer is definitely in order."

"I don't have anything else," Serish growled.  "My formal apprentice robes were on the Light of Arcanum when Ancin stole it."

"Check the third cart on the left."

Serish took a furtive look around and, upon seeing no one paying attention to them, moved to where Xaraea had indicated.  Inside one of the crates was a pile of folded clothes.  Most of them were wool or cotton in various blends or colors; sturdy, comfortable, nice without being too flashy--

"But what about this one right here?"

Naturally, Xaraea had pointed to the most expensive article in the box: a red and white silk robe with gold accents and white fur trim and a complementary set of fashionable leather boots.

"Seriously?" Serish protested.  You think they won't notice this one robe out of all the others is stolen?"

"And you think they will?" Xaraea shot back.  "They're going to be drinking all evening and well into the night.  I'd be surprised if they noticed what colors you were wearing."

With one last reluctant look at the folder robe, she pulled it to the top of the pile and began stripping out of her armor, with Xaraea making wordless approving noises all the while.  With some help from the edge of the cart, she managed to get into the new outfit without getting mud on anything.  Looking at herself in a polished bronze mirror, she had to admit Xaraea had a good eye for these things.  The fit wasn't exact, but with a few tugs it was close, and with some minor changes to the pattern the outfit would be a dead ringer for Serish's apprentice robes.  At least until Xaraea held out the last article of the outfit to her. 

"No," Serish said flatly.

"It's part of the outfit, love," Xaraea told her, her voice dripping with mock innocence. 

"I'm not wearing a corset."

"That robe isn't designed to stay up without it.  You'll be holding this ensemble together with your hands all night.  Unless you'd rather I use my hands..."

Serish felt herself flush as she snatched for the corset and wrapped it around her waist.  Making a show of suppressing an amused smirk, Xaraea deferentially made some minor adjustments so it sat comfortably under Serish's bust before tightening down the laces.  Serish made sure to hold her breath so she'd have room to breathe in it later.  She checked herself in the mirror again.

"Just.  This.  Once," she told the demon firmly, though even as she said it and saw the Xaraea's eyes on her, she felt her resolve on that point slipping. 

"Of course, my princess," Xaraea answered, folding her hands subserviently in front of her and giving a bow of her head, her eyes blazing with excitement.  "Now, we have a party to attend."

Content warning: Repeated mentions or implications of blood, kidnapping, slavery, torture, human sacrifice, mind control/indoctrination, and abuse.  Dead dove, do not eat.


The Sightless Eye

Summary
The Sightless Eye is a network of scouts, spies, and information brokers that specialize in collecting state secrets and objects of power to sell them to the highest bidder.  While its agents and operatives are as diverse as the lands they operate in, they are all secret devotees of the Great Eye, to whom they offer their intelligence and by whom they are gifted with knowledge in return.

"And there she stands, with skin of white and cloak of black
Framed 'gainst the moon, past the rev'rend's shack.
We cannot hide you all, she'll search the houses, one by one
'Til not a soul is left to greet the rising sun
So run, dearest children, don't delay
The Pale Lady comes to take you away."

Gyleon had heard enough by the second verse.  After four, he was about ready to snap.  "By the Stone of Scitha, will you shut it, Helmar?  It's creepy 'nuff out here without your damnable ghost stories."

"'S'no story, Gyleon.  I seen 'er!"

This caused the other three men in the group to groan in exasperation.  Clearly, they had heard the tale too many times already.

"'S'true!" Helmar insisted. 

Gyleon remained caustically skeptical.  "Oh yeah?  If you seen her, what's she look like?"

Helmar warily turned his head as far back as he could without dropping his corner of the load they carried to look at the woman following several paces behind them.  She was dressed in all black, from the lacy veil over her face to her sheet of midnight hair to the boots on her feet.  The thick carpet of leaves on the forest floor made barely a sound as she stepped, as if she was floating just above them.  The only thing distinguishing her from a living shadow was fair, flawless skin and the dark silvery filigree on that covered her outfit and faintly caught the wan moonlight diffused by the fog. 

Her outfit was of some funny fashion, which immediately singled her out as a member of one of Ketra's wealthy families, even if it didn't look much like what most upper-crust women in the city wore.  The corset was worn openly, rather than under or over some kind of dress, leaving a generous expanse of snow-pale chest exposed, the curving filigree creating a striking outline between the black leather and ivory flesh.  She didn't wear a skirt, either.  She wore part of a skirt, cut up the back and completely open in the front, with its hem taken up to the knee, doing more to frame her legs rather than cover them up as a proper lady should.  Only what looked to be some sort of full-body stocking, cut tight to match the shape of the corset and her arms and legs kept her from complete indecency, even if it still left absolutely nothing to the imagination.  The legs of the stocking disappeared into her fancy knee-high boots, their fronts protected by embellished armor plates wrought from the same strange dark silver metal that decorated the corset.  Matching armor covered her upper and lower arms, ending just above leather gloves with pointed metal fingertips and knuckles.  Her collar was outrageously tall, disappearing under her hair in the back and swooping down to follow the sharp lines of her jaw before opening completely at the front, putting her slender neck on clear display for anyone looking.  And though she wasn't particularly tall and was rather spare for a woman in Adela, the six-inch heels on her boots caused her to tower over all four of them and she moved with the confidence and air of natural menace associated with such a height.  Not to mention Gyleon had, on the few occasions he'd crossed into the upper circles, seen what boots like that could do to a woman's shape; it was enough to make him wish she'd taken the lead on their march into the woods. 

They hadn't seen much of her before she glided into the bunkhouse and collected them for this errand, but she stood out in everyone's attention: tall, dark, mysterious, a vision of loveliness.  She looked like all the stories of dark sorceresses and women -- or things that only looked like women -- who tempted men away from their wives to drown them in their own vices.  And, Gyleon had to admit, she could look the part of the Pale Lady.

But Gyleon wasn't some superstitious tribal, oh no.  He was a Ketran man, through-and-through.  This was not some fairy story meant to scare unruly children.  This was real life.  So, like any good Ketran man, Gyleon reached over and smacked Helmar on the back of the head.  "Yer a special kinda daft, y'know that?  Sayin' a Lady looked like some kiddie-eatin' witch.  We was back in town and a guard saw you?  You'd be irons 'fore you could blink."

Helmar ducked his head sheepishly and Gyleon looked back again to address the woman, in a much politer tone.  "Apologies, Lady Alera.  Helmar here has never much used his head.  He didn't mean nuthin' by it."

Her lips curled into a smile behind her veil.  "Relax.  My cousin shan't find out about this."

"Of course, Lady.  Thank you."

"Y-yeah, thank you," Helmar repeated, his voice shaking. 

"Who are ye, again?" asked one of the men at the head of the column, Gauwis, before hastily adding, "If you'll pardon the impert'nce, Lady.  Master Ames di'n't say much about ye before ye showed up, and I don' remember 'im invitin' ye to anythin' before."

"I tend to stay out of family business these days," Alera answered dismissively.  "Particularly in the capital.  My own operations keep me plenty occupied."

Gauwis's response was lost when the wind whispering through the autumn trees surged into a great gust.  The rush of air tore through the carpet of dead leaves on the forest floor, casting them about in a sudden confetti of red, orange, black, and gold.  The men came to an abrupt, staggering halt, almost dropping their load, as the dispersal of the detritus revealed thick, gnarled tree root that arched out of the ground just at ankle height.

"Wolma's teeth!" Gyleon swore as he struggled to adjust his grip on the wrapped corpse while the other three men tried to do the same. "With respect, Lady, how much farther is it?  We're runnin' out of trail."

"Not much further," Alera assured them, the words calm and sweet.  "Far enough that predators won't be attracted too close to town."

"Wha's so special 'bout this stiff that we 'afta carry 'im all this way any'ow?" the last man asked.  "Why can' he just go in the boneyard like everyone else?"

Alera's voice took on a tone of gentle reproof.  "Now, now, mister Bruge.  It is not one's place to question the last wishes of the dying.  He is to be buried in the forest, in a clearing where the moon shines untouched upon the earth."

"Wha' a ponce," Bruge groused.  "No' like the moon'll be shinin' on anythin' in this fog.  Can' 'ardly see where we's goin'.  You sure this's the right way?"

"Worry not, gentlemen; we'll reach our final destination soon."

A new crunch of leaves caught Alera's attention.  Behind them, faint, distant, but repeating and rapid.  Approaching.  Someone was running through the forest behind them, the panicked, frantic sprint of the hunted.  Someone was being driven towards them.  Alera focused her hearing, but could not sense any additional footfalls or voices that would identify they prey's pursuers.

"Most interesting..." Alera muttered.

Though she only said it to herself, it still caught the attention of the men.  Gyleon turned again to look at her, confusion on his face.  "Whassat, Lady?" 

And she wasn't there. 

They were alone.  There was no one behind them, and no indication anyone had been there at all; where Alera had been standing, there was just black mist drifting away on the wind, like a shadow in the fog.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name Alera N'Rali
Age 29 (give or take a couple hundred years)
Gender F
Species Human Vampire
Ethnicity Serenian
Height 5'10"
Occupation Intelligence agent, information broker, mistress of The Sightless Eye
Residence Castle Apocrypha, Thunderblack Mountains



"So run, dearest children, don't delay / The Pale Lady comes to take you away."
-- Refrain from a peasant folk rhyme

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Tall, pale, and athletic with long, straight black hair.  Fully indulges the "goth vampire" look with a lot of black leather, dark makeup, capes, veils, and anything else that will make her look tall, dark, mysterious.  Carries herself with an untouchable haughtiness.

However, she is a master of disguise -- a fact she very much enjoys -- and can adopt whatever appearance and composure she pleases, especially if she decides to employ her shapeshifting abilities.

Personality
Alera is defined, above all, by her naked, unrepentant self-interest and hedonism.  All things are secondary to her own security, power, and comfort.  However, this does not make her a petty, backstabbing weasel who will swindle and betray anyone she meets at the first opportunity.  Her avarice is tempered by a focus on long-term gains, and as such she finds it more profitable to remain collected, professional, and occasionally affable during most dealings.  Indeed, she's not one to let personal feelings get in the way of business or other matters, and is generally open to working with just about anyone so long as she can profit in some notable way from the association. 

Her sharp intellect and burgeoning information network afford her access to countless personal and public secrets and have trained her with a keen analytical eye. These feed an unwavering self-confidence matched only by her selfish, pragmatic, and manipulative nature. Her leverage with and intimate knowledge of the people she works with frequently give her a strong upper hand that she will play to her benefit wherever she can. This combination of confidence and control grants her a powerful force of personality that she uses to passively entice people of weaker will into following her and doing what she commands, or browbeat them into doing it should passive approaches fail.

In addition to reveling in her monstrous nature, she also loves her job, especially the parts where she gets to don disguises and secret identities.  It sates her vanity to exercise her mastery of textiles and cosmetics and become whoever she wishes to be.  She thrives on the thrill of collecting secrets, manipulating the weak-minded, laying others low with a few whispered words, and generally challenging the pride and security of others and would not choose to live her life any other way.

While she views just about everyone with the same quiet disdain and condescension and she considers basically no one to be her equal, she holds a particular animosity for those who would use necromancy or other arts to gain control of higher forms of undead (such as vampires like herself).  She also considers stopping those who would poach or end mortal life on Earth a profitable endeavour in and of itself; this is not out of a sense of altruism, she just has no patience for anyone who would destroy her source of food.  Despite being an undead and necromancer herself, she is openly opposed to the cult of necromancers known as The Circle Undone.

Magic/Abilities
In life, she was a vanilla mortal, albeit one with considerable intelligence and charisma.  Her transition into a higher form of undead has magnified those skills considerably and supplemented them with a wide array of supernatural powers.  Faster, stronger, and more perceptive that she was even in life, she can amplify her physical and mental prowess further by burning the lifeblood she has taken from others.  Other vampiric abilities (usually at the cost of blood) include rapid healing of physical injuries, resistance to the magic of others, a hypnotic presence, moderate shapeshifting, blinding speed and reflexes, turning into a cloud of dark mist, levitation, and being able to gently subvert or brutally crush the will of lesser minds. 

Her vampiric abilities are considerable for a comparatively young age because of her frequent indulgence in diablerie: the consumption the life and power of other vampires, a capital crime in most vampire societies.  Most vampires who have met their end before her have done so at the end of her fangs, and while none have been as powerful as her sire, the sheer number of other vampires whose power she has consumed has had a substantial cumulative effect.

She also inherits the weaknesses of her vampiric bloodline.  She casts no shadow, nor a reflection in anything made of silver.  The touch of silver is toxic to her and she withers in sunlight and holy places.  Such things do not immediately destroy her, but they are immensely draining and will inevitably destroy her with prolonged exposure.  Should she survive exposure she will still need time to recover.

She's become proficient with many weapons over the years, but her weapon of choice is knives, particularly throwing knives.

She rounds out her vampiric powers and martial abilities with dalliances in necromancy and primal magics, though generally to the tune of defending or gratifying herself and manipulating, controlling, or harming others. 

Despite being undead, many of her internal organs have not atrophied and are, in fact, still fully functional.  This is due to her sire's intervention to keep her capable of bearing him an heir.  Although they aren't necessary to her continued survival like they were when she was mortal and she could simply allow them to atrophy, Alera still takes advantage of them to fully enjoy mortal food and drink and make herself appear more alive when she is disguising herself. 

Relationships
Erastus Harlecion, Baron of Liene: Sire, master, diablerie victim
Damien Harlecion: Son
The Sightless Eye: Leader
The Circle Undone: Opposed necromantic cult
Polite vampire society: Persona non grata

History
Alera was born to the well-off Valita merchant family in Ketra.  Her childhood was unremarkable as her family considered a good education to be a sound investment and prepared her to join in the family business of trade and financing.  She took well to the ins and outs of business, but quickly grew bored of dealing in fabrics, furs, spices, and crops.  Using the family money, she began her own dealings under the table, trading in secrets.  Rare books, confidential documents, military orders, intangible gossip, and more fit into smaller packages and fetched higher prices than mercantile goods, and she herself could participate in their acquisition.  This brought her immense personal wealth with which to feed a decadent and adventurous lifestyle.  She would frequently use it to pay managers to cover her family branch office while she accompanied trade caravans to smuggle information into or out of other cities or even other nations, or while she verified rumors of forgotten treasure tombs which she could sell to overconfident adventurers...after skimming her pick off the top first.  After several years of coercion, bribery, seduction, and psychological programming, she had assembled a modest if functional information network that would be known in whispers as The Sightless Eye.

Her dealing in secrets eventually caused her to run afoul of the necromantic cult The Circle Undone.  When tracking down a particularly lucrative lead on a local Serenian noble, Erastus Harlecion, Baron of Liene, she uncovered two secrets darker than even she had anticipated.  Not only was the good Baron an ancient vampire who had been adopting the identity of a new heir every half century or so, he was a deacon of The Circle Undone and one of their foremost agents on the Adelan-Serenian border.  Unfortunately, Erastus captured her before she could escape.  He could not let her leave -- the secrets she had learned threatened to unmake the cult's centuries-long plans -- but he was impressed with her skills of infiltration and subterfuge.  As such, he turned her into a vampire and enthralled her to his will. 

For several years, Alera was sent to do the bidding of The Circle Undone, the whole while the last shred of self-awareness Erastus had left in her, necessary for her to employ the skills Erastus desired from her, railed against the cage the elder vampire had imprisoned it in.  She had absolutely no qualms with being made into a vampire -- she gladly stalked, hunted, hurt, and killed others all the time in her previous life; in that regard, the immortality and superpowers were basically free.  What she objected to was being bound to the will of another, particularly one she despised as much as Erastus.  But the millennia had not been kind to Erastus, and his age, power, and ego all combined to form a creeping senility and madness beyond even the realm of the followers of The Circle Undone.  The binding he had laid upon Alera's free will had been imperfect and as the years passed she had quietly weakened it more and more.  As Alera brought Erastus success after success, his senility worsened and evolved into full-blown megalomania, until such time that he declared Alera his most trusted lieutenant, even as she had obviously broken her bindings. 

On the eve of what Erastus would call his greatest victory, Alera gave up pretending.  She struck down Erastus where he stood and diablerized his corpse to steal his power before the illusion of warmth had even faded.  With Erastus's power now made her own, Alera set about subjugating or consuming all of Erastus's retainers and the citizens of Liene until the only one left who remembered the Baron was her.  She employed them to loot Erastus's palace and castle down to the bare stones, then left the whole place to rot. 

Using her new ill-gotten gains, she set to work rebuilding and expanding The Sightless Eye, starting with a citadel of her own, nestled in the Thunderblack Mountains: Apocrypha.  As the centuries have passed, she has seeded agents across Le'Ranna and turned The Sightless Eye into a cult itself, a cult that worships her as the dark goddess of secrets and knowledge, in whose name analysts and cryptographers worship by laboring to uncover the secrets of a thousand cities and a million lives.  With countless faithful to feed all her hungers, Alera lives the life she always wanted: beholden to none but herself, able to wield power over almost any she chooses. 

In the centuries since, she has gained an aspect in folk legend known as The Pale Lady or The Woman of Midnight.  Alera's preferred method of talent acquisition is to personally investigate reports of exceptional individuals, particularly young adults.  If the individuals' skills are as rumored, she abducts them and brings them back to Apocrypha for indoctrination into The Sightless Eye.  This pattern of behavior has given rise to widespread scare-stories and folk tales about a snow-white woman dressed entirely in black whose presence heralds the disappearance of children. 

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Why Hello There My Little Pawn [M] [Celeste Adra]

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"Enchantress / Lady with no master and no god / Her temple shall not fall."

We peopled your planet to experience your emotions - such feelings lost to us aeons ago. How we envied you, your loves and passions, your dangerous desires.  The fires of your emotions gleamed like lost beacons in the darkened depths of the fathomless universe.

Serish: Scion of the Demon Sovereign Kar-Balramir, prophesied to free him from his eternal prison.  Also has a demon hitchhiker living in the birdhouse in her soul.

Xaraea: Disgruntled intelligence agent of Kar-Balramir.  Aforementioned demon hitchhiker.

Alera N'Rali: Vampire, queen bee of The Sightless Eye information network, certifiable monster.  Dead dove, do not eat.

The experiment is over. I am weary now. So tired. I too am far from home. Open the gate - complete the circle.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name Xaraea
Age ~5000
Gender Female
Species Demon (Balramir sovereignty)
Height 5'10"
Occupation Infiltrator and intelligence agent
Residence Serish's soul

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Her mortal disguise is a middle-aged brunette favoring revealing dresses and lots of expensive jewelry.  Though this is how most will see her, being a disguise the minor details change based on who she's interacting with.  Her true form, while similar enough to be recognizeable, has sharper features, as well as demonic staples such as claws, scales, glowing eyes, and a crown of horns

Personality
Xaraea is as manipulative as demons come, her entire purpose in Kar-Balramir's court to be his spy.  It's as much a part of what she is as what she does.  Her immortality and eternity spent playing mortals like pianoes has given her a streak of world-weariness that manifests as a caustic, sarcastic wit.  She has absolutely no reservations from brutally castigating anyone she views as inferior -- which is pretty much everyone.  Even when she isn't verbally abusing everyone around her, she is typically snide and condescending, showing deference only to Demon Sovereigns and others it's in her best interest to place nice with.  Since being bound to Serish, she has developed a jealous and possessive attitude, lashing out at and defaming anyone who tries to get in Serish's good graces.  Despite this, she does feel a genuine affection for Serish, seeing a kindred spirit in her host: someone who has been used and treated as a tool her entire life and for the first time has been presented with the opportunity to break their chains and forge their own path in life.  As such, she does worry for Serish and care for her well-being, though she only shows it in moments of extreme danger.  Above all, she desires a luxurious and decadent existence, free of responsibility beyond her own whims, reveling in pleasures of the flesh and the pain of others.

She has a number of profound, specific dislikes, including (but not limited to): Dragons, necromancers, spiders, orcs, goblins, divine beings, and demons of other domains.

Magic/Abilities
As a demon, she is naturally skilled with the magics of her kind, though by her nature her preferences tend more towards the subtle arts of corruption and temptation rather than outright destruction.  However, she's unable to use more than a fraction of it while she remains bound to Serish.  Instead, she helps Serish tap the magic of her demonic bloodline and lend Serish some of her own power on top.

She rarely makes an appearance, more than capable of doing her work while heard, but not seen.  Should she ever want or need to, though, she can create an illusion of herself that only Serish can see and interact with, though this is often distracting to Serish and unnerving to onlookers.  She can also manifest a physical form that anyone can see and interact with -- and in such a form she is able to access more of her power -- but the manifestation must remain in Serish's presence; if it leaves her presence or is destroyed, it vanishes into smoke and Xaraea returns to her place in Serish's mind. 

Like all Balramiri demons, she is as vulnerable to the magics of dragons as she is those of divine powers. 

Relationships
Demon Sovereign Kar-Balramir (liege)
Serish (host)

History
Xaraea was created during the third expansion of the Balramir sovereignty, when Kar-Balramir faced a war on four fronts and required more mortal worshippers and sacrifices to bolster his infernal war machine.  Sending raiding parties to the mortal realm to kidnap hapless mortals and drag them back to Balramir had been sufficient in the past, but the mounting casualties of the current campaign necessitated more soldiers than Kar-Balramir had to spare.  To that end, he resigned himself to enlisting mortal agents, trading promises of power for a constant stream of souls sent to the fires of his war machine.  Xaraea and her kin -- the Xalmathoch -- were created to sway mortals to Kar-Balramir's service by any means necessary.  Temptation, seduction, coersion, domination, by these means and the Xalmathoch became the leash around the necks of a thousand mortals, and by their hands the supply of bodies and souls available to Kar-Balramir swelled, allowing him to crush his enemies one by one until his power was uncontested. 

Xaraea and the rest of the Xalmathoch proved vital to feeding Kar-Balramir's ever-hungering army and through their work on the mortal world, their liege only grew in power.  However, Xaraea never felt the rewards she received from Kar-Balramir were adequate compensation for her contribution to the cause.  She began to quietly seek ways to expand her power where her liege couldn't see, in hopes of being able to break free of her service and establisher her own independent court. 

These dreams were dashed when the Balramir Incursion -- Kar-Balramir's attempt to expand his empire into the mortal world -- was halted at the infernal gates by the dragon Ymunth and his disciples.  The demon army could only watch as their sovereign engaged the great dragon in single combat, the only one among them powerful enough to force his way through the powerful ward the dragon had constructed to keep the incursion at bay.  At first it seemed the Demon Sovereign would overcome one of his oldest foes, that his power had surpassed his weakness to the magic of dragons.  But the duel was all a ruse, a stalling tactic so Ymunth's disciples could complete the ritual that would imprison Kar-Balramir within the dragon's being.  Without the full might of a Demon Sovereign to rend the veil between the mortal world and the infernal realms, Kar-Balramir's servants found themselves dragged back to the pits that had spawned them and the gates slammed and barred behind them. 

Xaraea spent the next millennium doing the petty bidding of whatever demonlords summoned her, unable to leave the Balramir sovereignty any other way.  In the last century of that cursed thousand years, a frequent caller was the Serenian wizard Ephes Ealdan, as he sought to gain the favor of, and eventually free, Kar-Balramir from his prison.  Kar-Balramir, weakened as he was, commanded Xaraea aid Ephes however possible, now that the fellowship of Ymunth had shattered and the time was right for the Demon Sovereign's return to power.  She found being the effective personal servant and errand girl of some mortal magician utterly degrading, and having it be a standing order from her liege made it all the more infuriating.  But, lacking any better options, she bit down and dealt with it, waiting for Ephes inevitable death at the hands of the many enemies he was bound to make once someone uncovered his scheme.

When Ephes bound her to his apprentice, Serish -- Kar-Balramir's own daughter -- as an overseer, to ensure Serish would destroy Ymunth's skull and free her father at any cost (even Serish's free will), Xaraea saw the opportunity renew her plans for independence.  A host body would afford her much more freedom of movement and exercise of power.  Even if she couldn't hijack Serish's body entirely, Ephes's training had left Serish incredibly vulnerable to manipulation, with a few honeyed words and some existing preconceptions easily allowing Xaraea to direct Serish's wrath and attention.  And when the skull of Ymunth was in her possession, she could use it to siphon Kar-Balramir's power until she was strong enough to gain Sovereignty in her own right, unchaining her while leaving her former liege shackled and unable to punish her for her betrayal. 

Somewhere along the way, the plan changed slightly.  While using the skull to secure her freedom was still the main objective, Xaraea found herself less and less willing to subvert Serish the more she learned about the girl.  Serish, like Xaraea, had been just a tool for Kar-Balramir and Ephes, a pawn in a power play, shaped for a singular purpose with no regard for how she would function if that purpose was ever fulfilled.  She had been tossed into the world with a task and a head filled with the beliefs of others, but no opportunity to define herself or truly make her own decisions.  She found herself enjoying the woman's companionship, her sharp wit, her banter, and, yes, her demonic ruthlessness and bloodlust in battle.  The thought of helping Serish carve out a little kingdom on Earth with blood and fire became more appealing than sitting alone atop a throne of skulls in the infernal pits. 

Still weighing her options, Xaraea continues to accompany and counsel Serish as she hunts down the necromancer Ancin and the skull of Ymunth.  What comes next comes next, but revenge comes first.

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__________________QUICK STATS
Name Serish
Age 24
Gender Female
Species Human
Ethnicity Serenian
Height 5'9"
Occupation Spellsword apprentice
Residence Tirial (out wandering)

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Serish suffered a brutal training regimen at the hands of her master, meant to forge her into a weapon to free her father and later enforce his will.  To that end, her appearance is almost entirely functional: simple armor with little ornamentation, brown hair braided tight, lean muscle, almost no jewelry except a couple minor magical trinkets.  The endless combat she faced under her master and since embarking to face her destiny has left her with numerous scars, a few of which split her nose and lips in several places. 

Personality
As someone who spent most of her young life being groomed for some great destiny without ever being told what that destiny is, then only learning what it was halfway through completing it, Serish is marked by a powerful uncertainty.  She's still trying to figure out what she values and where she stands, now that she's realized she's been manipulated and steered since youth.  For the first time in her life, she's in a position to choose for herself...and the choice she faces has consequences she's only beginning to come to understand.  Such a weight is overwhelming to the point of exhaustion, leaving Serish with the prickliness and irritability of the perpetually sleep deprived.  Compounding this is her demonic heritage.  While she isn't ordinarily possessed of the same capriciousness as her lineage, her emotions run hot beneath the surface, and she reacts strongly to sudden stimuli, something that's led to the accidental destruction of many tankards and plates in many taverns.

Serish has a deep hatred of necromancers and dragons, as well as a general mistrust of and aversion to heavenly powers.  Factions of each group have a vested interest in seeing her father remains imprisoned and have such tried to kill her repeatedly, regardless of how she felt about her destiny or even if she knew about it at all, a fact for which she resents them greatly.  Having had to cut through too many orc clans and their goblin hangers-on for her liking has led her to regard orcs and goblins with an impatient contempt.

Magic/Abilities
Serish is a skilled close combatant, trained to fight superior numbers with swords, knives, and staves, but her greatest power is the magic of her infernal bloodline.  While it does not afford her true demonic magic, it does lend her magical ability beyond the level of her training.  While this makes her a potent spellsword with what she has mastered, she can tap the magic even without discipline and focus, meaning much of it ebbs and surges with her emotions, with often grisly consequences when she's in a battle rage.

Xaraea also lends Serish some additional power in the form of demonic physical enhancements, such as claws, horns, a bladed prehensile tail, and preternatural strength and speed.  Lethal as they are, Serish prefers to not use them not only because of the murderous reactions they provoke from onlookers, but also because of the strain they put on her body and the narcotic high she gets from them.

For all the power her demonic bloodline grants her, she also inherits their crippling weakness to divine magics.  Consecrated weapons, objects, and shrines raise welts and burns through simple proximity, to say nothing of their agonizing touch.  The magical abilities of dragons are equally dangerous, a vulnerability particular to the bloodline of Kar-Balramir, the root of his ancient animosity with dragonkind. 

Relationships
Demon Sovereign Kar-Balramir (father)
Isabel of Renne (mother)
Xaraea (bound demon companion)
Master Wizard Ephes Ealdan (master)
Necromancer Lord Ancin (nemesis)

History
Serish was born out of wedlock to a militia captain and a wandering stranger.  Life in the small travelers' town of Renne was never posh nor exciting, but the stranger was wealthy enough for them to live comfortably for a time.  During her fifth year, Serish began showing signs of magical talent, which pleased the stranger greatly.  He taught her what magic he knew, between frequent business trips, then introduced her to his associate, the master wizard Ephes, to continue her training.  Ephes visited for lessons once a week over the course of several months, until the fateful day the stranger left, never to return.  Out of honor for his fallen friend, Ephes offered the grieving Isabel Serish's complete education and training in Tirial.  Unbeknownst to her or young Serish, however, Ephes's intentions were far from benevolent.

A thousand years ago, the dragon Ymunth sacrificed himself to imprison the Demon Sovereign Kar-Balramir and sever the ties Kar-Balramir's forces used to work their will upon the mortal world.  The greater part of Kar-Balramir's essence was banished to a prison beyond time and the Demon Sovereign's form cast back into the pit from whence it had come.  But the prison was not perfect, and a dread prophecy by Ymunth's apprentice warned that Kar-Balramir might one day be freed by his child not yet born.  To this end, the sages who aided the great dragon stole away with all knowledge of the ritual and the prison, hiding it away in a temple far from mortal civilization to be buried forever, that Kar-Balramir's name be lost to the ages. 

In the centuries since, the disciples of Ymunth saw their ranks swell, eventually growing too large for the orthodoxy of the dragon's teachings to be maintained.  The practice of necromancy had always been a controversial topic amongst the disciples, but as their numbers grew, so did the divide between those in favor and those opposed until it eventually split them wholly in two, with the necromancers retreating after a bloody battle between the two sides.  Those that remained, diminished and disheartened by the fighting and lacking an enemy against which to present a united front, splintered further, until all that remained were dozens of schools and cabals that agreed on little more than the common ancestry of their philosophies.  With their unity also went record of their founder's sacrifice and all the labors that had been undertaken to ensure that sacrifice was not made in vain. 

The imperfections in the prison wrought by Ymunth's sacrifice were enough for the most relentless demonlords to summon fragments of Kar-Balramir's remaining power and striked bargains with him.  Ephes was one such demonlord.  A member of one of the schools of magic descended from Ymunth's teachings, Ephes had heard the legends of Ymunth and Kar-Balramir and the prophecy that had been left in their wake.  Working in secret, Ephes succeeded in contacting what remained of Kar-Balramir and pledged his allegiance, becoming one of the Demon Sovereign's agents in the mortal world, one of many tasked with recovering the knowledge to unmake the prison that sealed their master.  The mysterious stranger that seduced Isabel was nothing more than a mortal puppet, possessed by Kar-Balramir for the sole purpose of siring a child to fulfill the prophecy and discarded once that purpose had been served.

And so began sixteen years of merciless apprenticeship to Ephes.  Isolation, ascetism, enforced schedules, harsh lessons, harsher punishments for failure, manipulation, gaslighting, anything and everything Ephes could do to mold Serish into the hammer that would shatter her father's prison and crush any that dared stand against him.  Under Ephes's tutelage, Serish would raid ruins, temples, and libraries, gathering artifacts and intelligence that would further her master's goal, until at last he discerned the resting place of the keystone, deep in the Moraki desert.  With the prophesied hour close at hand, Ephes sent Serish out into the world one last time, to face her destiny.

In the city of Cerenis lived a wizard named Cebeus, with whom Ephes had studied decades earlier, a wizard who was as much as historian and archaeologist as he was a scholar of magic.  It was his studies that led to the discovery of the temple built by the original disciples of Ymunth, though he had no idea what evil lay within.  Ephes assigned Serish to aid Cebeus in his excavation of the temple, giving her secret instructions to retrieve a collection of artifacts Ephes believed to reside within.  To ensure her loyalty however, and to ensure she didn't begin asking too many questions, Ephes bound to Serish the demon Xaraea, one of Kar-Balramir's lieutenants, then forcibly modified Serish's memory of the binding to make her believe Xaraea was a guardian spirit.  Trusting that Xaraea had Serish's leash well in hand, Ephes bought Serish passage to Cerenis.

While the necromancers descended from Ymunth's teachings had no love for the wizards who had cast them out and continued to hunt them throughout the centuries, they did still honor their founder's sacrifice.  Upon seeing the prophecy coming close to passing, the Necromancer Lord Ancin rallied his followers to action to end it, no matter the cost or opposition.  To that end, on the night of Serish's arrival, Ancin's minions assaulted Cebeus's manor, hellbent on seizing all material related to the desert temple and leaving no witnesses to follow them.  While their violence was thorough, it was not complete; amidst the chaos, Serish managed to gather a number of survivors -- soldiers, assistant wizards, researchers, laborers, and even Cebeus's apprentice Idrastea -- and lead a breakout that blunted the undead attack, reclaimed some key artifacts, and retook the ship Cebus had chartered to take them to the temple, though not before Cebeus himself perished under interrogation.  With no time to mourn, Idrastea plotted the course for the Moraki desert, with Ancin hot on their heels.

What was supposed to be a long and deliberate excavation of the temple turned into a mad dash to prepare the temple to repel the next necromancer attack until additional reinforcements could be mustered to crush Ancin once and for all.  However, in the months since Cebeus and Idrastea had last visited, the expedition team had awoken temple defenders, once left to sleep eternal, who immediately set themselves to repel all outsiders with implaccable resolve.  The few troops Serish and Idrastea had managed to rally at Cebeus's manor were slowly whittled down by the prepared and numerically superior arcane warriors of old, until only Serish and Idrastea remained.  Despite their haste, they were not fast enough to activate the warding spells left behind by those who had built the temple and Ancin was able to waltz right in unopposed.  Serish and Idrastea fled deeper into the temple, but Cebeus had not been as unyielding in his training as Ephes had, and an inopportune moment's hesitation cost Idrastea dearly; she was cut off from Serish and promptly captured by Ancin. 

At Xaraea's urging, Serish continued her push into the temple's depths to complete her master's task, needing little convincing to believe that Ancin would use the ancient knowledge and magics of the temple for nefarious purposes.  The journey through the decrepit catacombs was gruelling and fraught with narrow brushes with death, but by virtue of Ephes's iron discipline, Serish survived and at last reached the sealed reading room where the sages laid all knowledge and tools of their deed to rot, at the feet of a full-sized statue of the dragon to whom it had once belonged.  As she laid her hands upon the legendary implements of that ancient ritual, she was granted a revelation by her father, revealing himself, her heritage, and his command to destroy his prison and free him.  Unfortunately for Kar-Balramir's dreams of freedom, Serish's efforts had once again only served to clear the path for Ancin, who impaled the demon's prophesied savior upon the great statue's tail and left her to die.

The next day, Serish dug herself out of the mass grave the necromancers had dumped her body in.  As Serish's life drained from her flesh and her blood ran across the stones of the shrine, Xaraea had sunk her claws into Serish's soul and refused to let it go, cementing the binding that Ephes had laid upon them.  With this new level of influence over her host, Xaraea mended Serish's broken body until she was strong enough to regain consciousness and slaughter her way through the last temple defenders and out into the wastes beyond.

In the months since, Serish has slowly wandered north, back towards civilization, following Ancin's trail with vengeance on her mind.  Despite the obvious taint being a demonhost puts on her aura, she has turned down numerous offers to purge Xaraea from her soul, valuing the demon's counsel and companionship above the approval of those who would see her murdered for her lineage regardless.  The journey has been slow, lacking even a horse to aid her travel, and needing frequent stops to find work, having been entirely financially dependent on Ephes her whole life.

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Like the Start of a Joke

Raiding Party [M] | Sarang


"I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING, BUT I'VE BEEN TAUGHT THAT IF I KEEP BLOWING STUFF UP, EVENTUALLY MY PROBLEMS WILL GO AWAY SO THAT'S WHAT I'M GOING WITH!  THAT'S HOW DAD DID IT, THAT'S HOW AMERICA DOES IT, AND IT'S WORKED PRETTY WELL SO FAR!"

Yeah, so, I've done this sort of thing once before. Didn't turn out so well. The good times were good, but the bad times... well, a couple years of daily stress and internet drama did some lasting damage. I've been lurking in the Discord for a couple months and those of you there have heard the stories. Needless to say, it's made me extremely hesitant to give this another try. Once beaten, twice shy, you understand. 

But in that time, I've seen some things from this community that have ameliorated a few of my reservations, enough that I'm willing to try.

I'm not particularly...casual about writing. I don't so much find enjoyment in running through a plot as I do the actual storycraft: theme, character development, conflict, worldbuilding, that sort of thing. The art rather than the action. That's not to say I demand the same from others -- honestly, it's not my place to tell everyone else how to have fun; I deal with that enough in the tabletop community, especially with the OSR nutjobs.  However it does make me rather deliberate.  I tend not to get involved much, likely even less so now.  But I'll try.  See how it goes.