# The Rape of Morne - Part 2 (Updated 2/26)



## Sepulchrave II

This post is less complete than I had hoped, but I wanted to get the new thread underway – perhaps with the intention of spurring me to write an update quickly. This may be difficult – my work schedule is insane at present, and I’ve had little time to game – much less write – for the past month or so. Nonetheless, the backlog is very large.

Do not expect anything too soon! I will do my best.

Many thanks for kind words. The story continues, albeit at a slower pace…




*You See*

Eadric sat cross-legged in his tent and looked at his God. Tramst – who, of course, was Oronthon – looked remarkably unchanged and unprepossessing. There was no celestial choir, no radiant light, and no feeling of awe. There was, in fact, no indication that this was anything other than a normal human being. 

The Devas who had escorted him had vanished – Eadric had not dared to use Palamabron’s Eye to see if they still remained in some insubstantial form nearby, any more than he had dared to look at Tramst himself through the stone. It would have somehow been blasphemous. He wondered if even thinking about using it was a sign of his unworthiness and lack of faith.

Tramst raised his eyebrows and smiled sympathetically.

_Lord, I fear. I doubt._

Well, yes, I know that. So what’s your point? And don’t call me ‘Lord.’ A simple ‘Holiness’ will suffice (irony).

_I do not know how to proceed._

Ahh. And how, exactly, is that different from how things were say, yesterday, or a year ago? Or five years ago?

_In order to come to understand you more, the fiend Titivilus informs me that I must deal with him on an ongoing basis. That he will act as a foil to my…_

Virtue? Piety?

_(Profound discomfort.) Holiness, I feel unworthy…_

(Raised eyebrows.)

_(Shame at false modesty…)_

(SLAP.) (Smile.)

_(Humility)_

Your brother, Orm, frequently struck me when he taught me. (Laughter). He looked terribly offended on the morning that I slapped him back.

_Where is Orm now, Holiness? Will he be coming?_

No. Why should he, when he can meditate in solitude?

_But I may visit him, when things are quieter?_

Well, of course. Why could you not? When could you not?

(SILENCE.)

_What do you wish of me, Holiness?_

To be active in the world. To be the _Ahma_. To lead. To act as a guardian and protector. To be my strong right arm.

_But Nehael. (Guilt. Longing. Conflict of interests. Confusion. Despair.)_

I appreciate your honesty and directness.

_I don’t know what to do. Part of me desires to be selfish. I fear that I will resent you if I abandon her. I fear that I will fall if I pursue her, and you will withdraw your grace from me._

It is a difficult conundrum (humour). You have the right to choose. That can never be denied.

_She suffers._

As do countless others.

_I fear Titivilus._

That is wise. He is subtle and cunning. But he is not beyond your ability to deal with.

_I feel confounded by him – why is he tied to my own salvation? His temptation is to be free of his presence. If I accept it, I fail. If I reject it, am I burdened with his whisperings for eternity?_

There are always Devils. To deny it would be fruitless.

_Part of me wishes to ask you to release me – if only for a short while._

Are you asking me?

_(Shakes head). No._

Then what will you do, Eadric-_Ahma_?

_Put my trust in you. Command me, and I will obey. I will abandon Nehael to whatever fate awaits her. But I ask that you grant me the strength to endure my guilt and shame._

And you still hope that, in so making that offer, I will take mercy upon you and release you from my service?

_Yes – or part of me does, at least. But the offer is made in spite of that hope, not because of it_.

(Leans forward and touches Eadric lightly on the forehead).


*SEEING FOR THE FIRST TIME I-THOU BEING-NONBEING-BECOMING KNOWING-UNKNOWING SEEKING-FINDING-LOSING-FINDING TIME-BEING ETERNITY-NONBEING NOW-BECOMING EVERYTHING-NOTHING IDENTITY-DIFFERENCE RELATIVE-ABSOLUTE. NOTHING IS. NOTHING IS NOT. NOTHING BECOMES.*

“_Saizha_*,” Oronthon said. 

Eadric wasn’t sure if it was a question, or not, and knew that it didn’t matter. Duality had evaporated in a soaring ecstasy.


**


I will enter Morne, now, and take up my seat in the Fane.

_I will follow._

That is not necessary. I will go alone. Instruct the army to wait, although not to stand down – they will not be needed _quite_ yet. And not in the capacity that many anticipated.

_Then command me._

(Smiles). You are free. Do as you must do. I will recall you to my side when I need you.

_(Disbelief). But that is not what you require of me._

No. But I grant it nonetheless.

_But why?_

(Laughter). Because you didn’t ask. Consider Grace to have descended upon you for the third time. Remember, you are empowered to decide right from wrong.

_Titivilus insisted that you will demand much of me. That you will not compromise. That you will push me to my limit. He did not lie._

And so I will. But not yet. Eadric, it is not always _this_ or _that_. There is room for flexibility.

_But Morne. And Graz’zt?_

Will do what it is in his nature to do. What is Necessity, if Oronthon is not unlimited?

_What will happen?_

Rivers of blood will flow. You will know what to do.

_Holiness, forgive me – but what will _you _do?_

I will weep.


And he vanished.

*

“Well?” Nwm asked.

The Paladin tried to speak, but merely looked frustrated, unable to convey the full magnitude of the experience.

“Is he a man, or a god?” Ortwin asked.

“Yes,” Eadric replied.

But his face shone with a light that never after left him.


**


“So, what is he going to _do_, exactly?” Ortwin asked. “Will there be a big showdown with Graz’zt, with lots of fireworks?”

Eadric sighed. “That is not his function. He will provide succour to those who need it, and guidance, and instruction. He is a teacher, not a soldier.”

“You’d think he’d be a bit more pro-active.”

“Hah!” Mostin said snidely. “Fat chance. He’s probably just your typical aloof deity-type, following his own, mysterious plans. Don’t expect him to put himself on the line.”

The Paladin moaned. “Let’s just leave out the motivational analysis. The fact is, I will have a temporary grace period in which I can act. I don’t know how long it will last, but we should seize the opportunity.”

“Er, how long are we talking, Ed?” Ortwin asked. “Hours? Days? Months?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hmm. That’s not much help.” Ortwin said sarcastically. “And what’s going to happen with Prince You-Know-Who? Is he still coming here?”

“Yes.”

“In an hour or so?”

“Yes.”

“Is there anything else you should tell us?”

Eadric briefly related the news about Jovol. And Kothchori. And Rimilin. And the exchange with Titivilus.

Mostin groaned. “It might have been useful if you’d told us this earlier.”

“There wasn’t time.”

 “I don’t understand,” Ortwin said. “You said that this is an either/or situation. Titivilus’ temptation was based on that premise.”

Mostin merely laughed. “I think you’ll find that if you were to analyze _exactly_ what the Devil said, you’d find plenty of loopholes and incomplete accounts. Without him actually lying, of course. I don’t blame you, Eadric. Even my colossal intellect was hard-pressed to contend with his nuances and intimations.”

“That’s reassuring,” Nwm said drily. “So is this Devil going to harass you from now on?”

“He will jibe me, and attempt to lead me astray, and at the same time I will use him to purify myself.”

“You _definitely_ need to speak to Shomei,” Mostin grinned. “I didn’t know that Oronthon endorsed such radical methods.”

“Generally, he doesn’t. I am the _Ahma_, however.”

“I thought Devils were only allowed one shot at the temptation thing,” Ortwin said. “Isn’t that some kind of violation of the rules?”

“The rules are changing,” Eadric replied.

“Perhaps,” Mostin said. “I think that the usual rules simply don’t apply to you any more. I see it in you Eadric. We are brethren now.”

Eadric looked confused, and more than a little worried.

“You are like me. You are no longer a man. You have transcended.” Mostin bowed in recognition.

“Being a quasi-semi-hemi-demigod is all very well,” Nwm said impatiently, “but the basic problem of _what the hell should we do?_ remains. Currently I can sense no extraplanars or arcane casters of Rimilin’s power within Morne, so where exactly are they all?”

“Elsewhere, or _Mind Blanked_,” Mostin replied. “Tramst will not even show as a ripple in your continuum, Nwm. Any more than Graz’zt, or Rimilin, or Kothchori, I’d guess.”

“Jovol can sense them indirectly,” Eadric said.

“Can he indeed?” Mostin seemed half-dubious and half excited at the prospect.

“Titivilus informed me that Jovol is more powerful than the rest of the Wyrish wizards appreciate.”

“Go on…”

“He says that Hlioth knew him from before. That he is capable of…self incarnation? It may have been a metaphor. I don’t know. He was vague about the details.”

Nwm clicked his fingers. “Hello? Can we please deal with the matter in hand? We can discuss arcane mysteries at a later time. As I see it, we have two options: one, we hit Graz’zt when he arrives, and all die; or, two, we translate to the Abyss while he’s here, try to bust out Nehael…and all die. Other suggestions which do not include the ‘death’ component would be appreciated.”

“The first option is not an option in any case,” Mostin replied. “We will not find him unless he wishes to be found. In which case, he _would_ kill us all in short order.”

“You’re going about this the wrong way,” Ortwin said casually. “We call his bluff. We can’t attack him directly, no matter what the circumstances are. We’ve already broken Ainhorr’s sword, imprisoned Rurunoth and snuffed out another one - which Balor did you _disintegrate_, Mostin?”

“I’ve no idea,” the Alienist replied.

“I can answer that,” Eadric said. “His name was Uruum – at least, according to Titivilus.”

“Aside from Ainhorr, that leaves Choeth, Irzho and Djorm,” Mostin said. “One of whom is already on the Prime.”

“Then let’s call in another one,” Ortwin said. “And kill him. And then another one. And when we’ve killed them all, we can start on the Mariliths, and the Nalfeshnees. We can break this bastard without going toe-to-toe with him, Ed.”

“I think Eadric has issues about conjuring demons,” Mostin said drily, “no matter what the motives.”

“Maybe he did once,” the Paladin replied, “but he’s damn well earned the right to decide whether the ends justify the means or not. And I have _no_ reservations on this count.”

“Are you above the Law now, Ed?” Ortwin asked slyly.

“When I’ve decided exactly what the Law is, I’ll let you know,” Eadric answered. “In any case, we should probably wait until _after_ Graz’zt has made his translation, and done whatever it is that he plans to do.”

“I’m not sure of the merit of that idea…” Mostin began.

“Titivilus expressly warned me against irritating Graz’zt too much before he acts. He seems to think that it might precipitate an overreaction. Jovol has been reluctant to interfere for the same reason.”

“And you trust him?” Ortwin asked.

“No,” Eadric replied.

“All the same, he might be right,” Mostin conceded. “That is entirely plausible. Demon Princes are not renowned for their tolerant natures.”

“Plausibility is what worries me,” Ortwin countered.

“I hear you,” Eadric agreed.

“In any case,” Mostin continued, “I need to prepare – and that will take some while. But I don’t have adequate free valences to do it all in one evening.”

“Do what?”

“To bind and destroy two Balors,” Mostin grinned. “It will have to wait until tomorrow. And I’ll need to find out which one is already present on the Prime.”

“I seem to recall your needing expensive gems,” Eadric said.

“To trap them, yes,” the Alienist said. “To kill them, no. We just kill them.”

“Are you sure it’s that easy?” Nwm asked.

“Piece of cake,” Mostin smiled.

“Why do I get the feeling that we’ve had this conversation before?” Eadric groaned.

“Perhaps we should ransom one,” the Bard suggested. “Propose an exchange. Can you bring a succubus in as well?”

“I suppose so,” Mostin said.

“Then let’s kill a Balor, stick another one in a pentacle, bind a succubus and instruct her that we’ll kill the second one unless Graz’zt releases Nehael, and then _dismiss_ her to relay the news to her master,” Ortwin seemed delighted with his plan.

“I’m not convinced that Graz’zt will go for a ransom deal,” Mostin said dubiously. “It’s difficult to know exactly what passes in the mind of any Demon, much less one of his stature. Who can tell how he thinks, or what his counsels are, or what things motivate him? Moreover, what of Kothchori? If he is capable of opening a _Gate_ once, he can do it again. If we rouse Graz’zt’s ire to that degree, then it is likely he will deal with us swiftly and decisively. I say we hit Kothchori first. And _after_ the Prince has made his return to the Abyss. We must break the link.”

“He is undetectable,” Eadric groaned.

“Not entirely,” Mostin replied. “If Titivilus was accurate in his appraisal of Jovol’s abilities.”

“Can you contact the Ogre?” Nwm asked. “He would be a useful ally.”

“Jovol follows his own rules,” Mostin answered. “When I have tried in the past, he has been unforthcoming. But it is possible.”

“Hlioth knows more about him than anyone else,” Eadric said. “It may be worth approaching her.” He looked at the Bard.

Ortwin sighed.

“There is another possibility,” Mostin said tentatively. “It is very dangerous.”

Eadric raised an eyebrow. “If it involves more Devils, then the answer is ‘no.’ I’ve got enough to deal with on that score already.”

“Pseudonaturals,” Mostin said. “Big ones.”

“I think I like that even less,” Eadric said. He sighed. “By rights, we should deal with our dead, before we do anything else. They should be taken in state into Morne – all deserve a place in the Temple crypts. But it will have to wait. And I suppose that, as we do not know exactly how or where Graz’zt will strike, we must simply wait until he does and then react accordingly in the aftermath. But it is frustrating. I feel impotent. Now would be a time to possess some insight into his nature, to be able to predict what he might do.”

“Presumably, Tramst could have told you, if he is privy to that information,” Ortwin sighed. “Why didn’t he?”

“I don’t claim to fully understand his methods,” the Paladin answered. “But I have no doubt as to his motives. And I am not above being addressed expediently.”**

“Has it occurred to you that that is one of the functions of Titivilus,” Ortwin pointed out. “From Oronthon’s perspective, at least. By entering into a dialogue with Evil, you come to understand it. To anticipate its movements and action. There may come a point when you can pre-empt it.”

“Maybe,” Eadric replied. “There might be a thousand other reasons, each equally plausible. I also think that thinking about it too hard is likely to lead to irreducible paradox, so I’m not going to get started on it.”

“A wise choice,” Nwm nodded.


**


Uedii, the Goddess, the Green Reality, groaned as yet another extraplanar entity desecrated her realm by manifesting within its confines. She was still far from her limit – as far as tolerating the interlopers was concerned. Her near-infinite capacity for absorption had, in the past, accommodated entire pantheons of warring gods, before she squashed them like flies.

Nonetheless, Nature was _irritated_. Clouds began to gather over Morne. Feys became short-tempered and vicious. Far to the south, in the archipelago of Pandicule, a volcano – long dormant – rumbled threateningly.

Prince Graz’zt appeared before the mage Kothchori in the sanctum of his island retreat, and the wizard quailed. Nearby, bound within a thaumaturgic diagram, the Archon Zhuel stood in silent meditation.

Graz’zt smiled. To be able to use _this_ Archon had been an unexpected pleasure. His face screwed up as he considered Uzmi and Uruum and Rurunoth, and contorted wildly as he thought of Eadric. 

“You are fuel, Archon,” the Prince said snidely. “Consider this: when your sublime form expires after aeons of servitude to your effulgent master, your spirit will be consumed and transformed into something filthy and loathesome.”

Zhuel said nothing. His face remained serene and impassive. As the Demon absorbed his essence, and swelled with the potency so imbibed, Zhuel gave no indication of pain or discomfort, and shot no look of hatred or contempt towards the Fiend. His annihilation was accompanied by an expression of profound pity for Graz’zt, which threw the Prince into a brief but prodigious rage. After a minute of paroxysm, he abruptly mastered himself.


The Demon appeared in Morne for a few seconds, spoke a phrase so terrible that space itself buckled under the strain, and promptly vanished exhausted back to his Abyssal realm.

A surge of elemental hatred broke outwards from the place where he had stood: the same spot in the Orangery of the Temple where Feezuu had slain the Archbishop Cynric. The Aether reverberated sympathetically. Fruit rapidly ripened, spoiled and fell to the ground in festering heaps. The grass wilted, and the orchard blackened and died.

Madness seized the already distressed inhabitants of Morne.




*Lit., “You See.”

**Ascended Masters and Saints within Oronthonianism frequently give cryptic or incomplete accounts to lesser beings, in the knowledge that often such creatures are incapable of understanding the full ramifications of information that would otherwise be imparted.


_Dark Subsumption_ is a method used to  fuel Epic Spells cast by certain fiends, which involves the annihilation of powerful outsiders. The mechanics were only worked out after I had access to the BoVD.

_Wave of Hate_ was the spell that Graz’zt invoked. It will be detailed in the next post.





*The Characters*

Although I’d normally post them in the Rogues’ Gallery, here are the characters as of this post. My rewards aren’t always conventional, so it’s probably worth explaining a few things:

_Eadric_
 Levelling was rapid for Eadric from 18-20: the final level was, in fact “free” to all intents and purposes – the transcendence granted by Tramst in this post (i.e. a 5th level Divine Disciple). Marc is targeting the Divine Emissary PrC from the Epic Level Handbook, although he has yet to decide the intervening levels. Maybe Divine Agent from MotP. 

I am using the idea of ‘levelled weapons’ for Lukarn – i.e., as Eadric grows in stature, so does the sword. This had been the plan since around level 13-14, although I had neglected to implement it (oops). Eadric’s transcendence seemed like a good point for a large growth in the sword’s abilities, perhaps reflecting an ‘awakening’ similar to that of its master.

Rewards for Eadric were big, but Marc deserved them. He’d been a truly awesome player.


_Ortwin_
Rob had already foregone advancing one level of experience, and did so again in order to fully rationalize his character (in his mind). I allowed him to apply the remaining benefits of the Satyr race, which the _reincarnation_ spell had denied him – these included the Fey hit dice and skill points (minus those extra x4 which he would have gained at 1st level), and three feats (two of which he already possessed). As Ortwin originally had an extra feat on conversion to 3e, Rob and I came to an arrangement which suited both of us: Ortwin’s Satyr-ness was fully integrated both mechanically and in the role-playing sense, and the inconsistencies of the _reincarnation_ spell were resolved. Ortwin is no longer a reincarnated half-elf. He _really_ is a Satyr, in every sense. Rob is happy with Satyrdom, although he feels he will be shafted by the ELH multiclassing rules.

It also meant that the ‘is he ECL +5 or not?’ question was resolved. He now _is_. Of course, when he levels to 18, he will receive another feat. Epic Skill Focus (Bluff) looks likely. One has to work hard to remain the best liar in the world. 


_Nwm_
Nwm levelled, and I allowed Dave to trade out TWF and Improved TWF for some feats from MotW – reflecting a gradual ‘forgetting’ of abilities, to be replaced by new ones. I’m pretty flexible in that regard, and Nwm is less optimized than the other characters anyhow. Nwm will stick with Druid all the way.

_Mostin_
Dan decided to pump all of his XP into a +5 inherent bonus to Mostin’s intelligence instead of levelling to 19. Mostin now has a ‘brain the size of a planet,’ as Marvin, the Paranoid Android, once said.



More generally, I allowed a retrospective reallotment of skill points in the case of previous cross-class skills for Eadric: Knowledge (Religion) and Knowledge (Nobility) shouldn’t be quite such a sink for a Paladin. I also did the same based on Mostin’s Intelligence increases over several levels – note, however that I do _not_ allow the Headband of Intellect to increase skill points gained per level. That’s just silly.

Mostin, having maxed out the skills that were any use to him, opted to throw them into Craft skills. Apparently, Illumination and Engraving have been a secret passion of his for some while…


*Eadric, Earl of Deorham* 
Male human Paladin 15 / Divine Disciple 5; CR 20; Medium size outsider (human); HD 15d10+60 plus 5d8 + 20; hp 201; Init +1; Speed 20 ft; AC 28 (touch 11, flatfooted 27); Attack: +30/+25/+20/+15 melee (Lukarn) or +27/+22/+17/+12 (Kirm); Dmg: 1d10+11 (15-20/x2)(Luakrn) or 1d8+9 (x3) (Kirm). SV Fort +23, Ref +13, Will +18; AL LG; Str 18 (24), Dex 13, Con 18, Int 12, Wis 16, Cha 23.

Languages: Common, Celestial

Skills: Ride +16, Knowledge (Religion) +18, Knowledge (Nobility) +9, Diplomacy +29, Handle Animal +11, Perform +10 (Ballad, Ode, Lute, Dance), Knowledge (History) +6, Sense Motive +18.

Feats: Exotic Weapon Proficiency (Bastard Sword), Power Attack, Mounted Combat, Ride-by-Attack, Spirited Charge, Weapon Focus (Bastard Sword), Improved Critical (Bastard Sword), Divine Might.

Special Abilities: Detect Evil at will, Divine Grace, Lay on Hands (75hp/day), Divine Health, Aura of Courage, Smite Evil (1/day, +15 dmg), Remove Disease (5/week), Turn Undead (as CLE 13, 8/day). Strength Domain Power (1/day: +20 to Str for 1 round). Divine Emissary (Telepathy w/ LG celestials in 60 ft.), Sacred Defense +2, Imbue with Spell Ability, Transcendence.

Spells: -/4/4/4/3. Prepared spells vary, but usually include "Holy Sword." Plus Strength domain spells: Endure Elements, Bull’s Strength, Magic Vestment, Spell Immunity. Caster level 12.

Magic Items:
"Lukarn." +4 LG Keen Fiend Bane Sunblade. Int 14, Wis 17, Cha 18. Empathy. 1 x Extraordinary Ability: Heal 1/day. Special Purpose: Slay Chaotic Evil Creatures. Special Purpose Power: Confusion. Lukarn has an Ego of 25.
"The Skin of Sarth." +4 Full Plate Armour of Invulnerability.
"Melimpor's Iron Girdle." Belt of Giant Strength +6.
"Melimpor's Shield." A Large +3 Shield of Blinding.
"Kirm." Heavy +2 Dragonbane Lance. 
3 Javelins of Lightning
4 Potions of Cure Serious Wounds; 2 Potions of Haste.
The Left Eye of Palamabron: A Gem of Seeing with the “Discern Lies,” “Zone of Revelation,” and “Zone of Truth” abilities as cast by a 20th level Cleric usable at will.

34 Years. 190 lbs. 6’1”


*Ortwin the Satyr* 
Male Satyr Fighter5/Rogue5/Bard7; Medium-size fey; HD 5d6+20 plus 5d10+20 plus 5d6+20 plus 7d6+28; hp 175; Init +10; Speed 40 ft; AC 28 (touch 16, flatfooted 22 ++ Displacement Effects); Attack: +27/+22/+17/+12 (Githla) or +26/+21/+16/+11 (Anguish and +3 arrow); Dmg: 1d6+7 (12-20/x2) (Githla) or 1d8 +5 + enervation (Anguish and +3 arrow); SV Fort +12, Ref +20, Will +12; AL CG(N Tendencies); Str 13, Dex 22, Con 18, Int 15, Wis 12, Cha 20 (24).

Languages: Common, Draconic, Old Borchion, Elf, Sylvan

Skills: Perform +31 (20 Ranks: Storytelling, Epic, Chant, Drum, Lyre, Lute, Pipe, Mime, Formal Dance, Folkdance, Folksong, Sword Swallowing, Juggling, Pan Pipes, Clarion, Satire), Bluff +32, Pick Pocket +14, Climb +9, Swim +7, Hide +29, Move Silently +29, Disguise +13, Knowledge (Arcana) +6, Innuendo +13, Open Lock +12, Use Magic Device +15, Search +11, Spot +22, Listen +19. 

Feats: Weapon Focus (Scimitar), Weapon Finesse (Scimitar - Yes, I allow this), Dodge, Expertise, Mobility, Weapon Specialization (Scimitar), Skill Focus (Bluff), Spring Attack, Whirlwind Attack, Improved Critical (Scimitar), Brew Potion, Improved Initiative.

Special Abilities: Sneak Attack +3d6, Evasion, Uncanny Dodge (Flatfooted Dex Bonus), Bardic Music, Bardic Knowledge. +4 Racial Bonus to Hide, Listen, Perform, Spot and Move Silently checks. 


Spells: 3/5/4/2 per day. Known: 0lvl: Dancing Lights, Daze, Flare, Light, Read Magic, Prestidigitation; 1st lvl: Sleep, Charm Person, Cure Light Wounds, Alarm, Ventriloquism; 2nd lvl: Silence, Cat's Grace, Glitterdust, Detect Thoughts; 3rd lvl: Major Image, Scrying.

Magic Items: 

"Dread Githla." +4 Keen, Throwing and Returning Scimitar
Cloak of Displacement (Major)
+5 Studded Leather Armour
The Blue Garnet Collar (Grants wearer +4 to Charisma).
Winged Boots 
Potion of Fiery Breath.
Potion of Invisibility.
 “Anguish.” A +1 Magical (+3 Mighty) Composite Longbow of Enervation. Those struck by missiles from this weapon are affected as though by the spell of the same name (Save DC17).
20 x +3 Arrows
Masterwork Pan Pipes
Masterwork Lute
Hat of Disguise



*Nwm the Preceptor*
Male human Druid 18; medium sized humanoid (human); HD 18d8+36; hp 121; Init +1; Speed 30 ft; AC 19 (Touch 11, flat-footed 18); Attack: +18/+13/+8 (Magical Quarterstaff) or +15 (Magical Javelin) Dmg: 1d6+4 (x2) (Magical Quarterstaff) or 1d6 +3 (x2) (Magical Javelin), SV Fort +13, Ref +7, Will +16; AL NG; Str 14, Dex 12, Con 14, Int 15, Wis 20, Cha 17.

Languages: Common, Elven, Sylvan, Druidic

Skills: Animal Empathy +19, Handle Animal +9, Swim +10, Intuit Direction +10, Concentration +18, Wilderness Lore +26, Knowledge (Nature) + 22, Knowledge (Arcana) +6, Scry +18, Spellcraft +11, Diplomacy +8, Heal +7, Profession (Herbalist) +11, Craft (Leatherworker) +6 

Feats: Weapon Focus (Quarterstaff), Ambidexterity, Extra Wild Shape, Create Infusion, Brew Potion, Craft Wondrous Item, Natural Spell, Snatch 

Special Abilities: Woodland Stride, Trackless Step, +4 on Saves vs. Fey Enchantments, Wild Shape (6/day; Huge; Elemental 3/day), Venom Immunity, A Thousand Faces, Timeless Body.

Spells Per Day: 6/7/6/6/6/5/4/3/3/2

Nwm's Staff (+2 Staff of the Woodlands topped with an Orb of Storms)
"Leofric's Token," a +3 Amulet of Natural Armour
+3 Leather Armour
"The Bleeding Spears of Huttur," 2x +1 Javelins of Wounding
Bag of Tricks (Rust Colour)
Nwm’s Torc: Command activated device which allows the wearer to ‘Commune with Nature’ as cast by a 9th level Druid.


46 Years; 178lbs; 5’11”


*Mostin the Metagnostic* 
Human Diviner 8 / Alienist 10; medium-size outsider (human); HD 8d4+8 plus 10d4+10 +6 (Insane Certainty); hp 74; Init +3; Speed 30 ft; AC 22 (touch 17, flat-footed 19); Attack: +10/+5 MW Rapier melee; Dmg: 1d6+1 MW Rapier melee (18-20/x2), SV Fort +7, Ref +9, Will +18; AL N(G Tendencies); Str 11, Dex 16, Con 13, Int 27 (33), Wis 16 (18), Cha 12.

Intelligence includes a +5 Inherent bonus.

Languages: Common, Draconic, Celestial, Abyssal, Infernal, Auran, Ignan, Terran, Aquan, Elven

Skills: Knowledge (Arcana) +32, Knowledge (The Planes) +32, Knowledge (History) +32, Knowledge (Geography) +32, Knowledge (Nobility) +20, Knowledge (Engineering) +20, Spellcraft +32, Alchemy +32, Scry +32, Concentration +32, Craft (Illumination) +21, Craft (Engraving) +21, Ride +5.

Feats: Martial Weapon Proficiency (Rapier), Scribe Scroll, Brew Potion, Alertness, Craft Wondrous Item, Quicken Spell, Still Spell, Maximize Spell, Chain Spell, Energy Substitution (sonic), Empower Spell, Spell Focus (Conjuration).

Special Abilities: Alien Blessing (+1 Insight Bonus on Saving Throws), Extra Summoning, Summon Alien, Insane Certainty, Timeless Body, Pseudonatural Familiar, Transcendence

Phobia: birds.


Spells: 4/7/7/7/6/6/6/5/4/3 per day. Specialty: Divination (+1 spell/level/day). Extra Summoning = 1 x Summon Monster IX. Prohibited: Necromancy. Save DC 21 + spell level (or 23 + spell level for Conjurations).  

Known: 

0lvl: All PHB Cantrips. 

1st lvl: Sleep, Charm Person, Alarm, Ventriloquism, Know Protections, Lesser Acid Orb, Enlarge, Chromatic Orb, Expeditious Retreat, Mount, Message, Summon Monster, Comprehend Languages, Detect Undead, Identify, True Strike, Jump, Spider Climb, Magic Missile.

2nd lvl. Detect Thoughts, Summon Swarm, Tasha’s Hideous Laughter, Summon Monster II, Web, Locate Object, Detect Invisibility, Darkness, Alter Self, Knock, Cat's Grace, Bull's Strength, Eagle's Splendour, Fox’s Cunning, Arcane Lock, Continual Flame, Obscure Object, Whispering Wind, Dimensional Pocket, Mostin's Aura of Inscrutability, Mostin's Arhythmic Apoplexy, Mostin's Myopic Emanation 

3rd lvl: Avoid Planar Effects, Phantom Steed, Stinking Cloud, Summon Monster III, Fireball, Lightning Bolt, Magic Circle Against Chaos/Evil/Good/Law, Nondetection, Arcane Sight, Dispel Magic, Tongues, Fly, Clairaudience/Clairvoyance.

4th lvl: Dimensional Anchor, Evard's Black Tentacles, Minor Creation, Summon Monster IV, Arcane Eye, Detect Scrying, Locate Creature, Leomund’s Secure Shelter, Scrying, Charm Monster, Stoneskin, Phantasmal Killer, Shadow Conjuration, Zone of Respite, Ethereal Mount, Vitriolic Sphere, Improved Bull’s Strength, Improved Cat’s Grace, Improved Fox’s Cunning, Attune Form, Polymorph Self, Mostin's Interminable Sermon, Mostin's Torque Tendril, Zone of Revelation.

5th lvl: Dismissal, Lesser Planar Binding, Cloudkill, Major Creation, Summon Monster V, Contact Other Plane, Fabricate, Prying Eyes, Rary's Telepathic Bond, Dream, Nightmare, Mestil’s Acid Sheath, Wall of Force, Sending, Teleport, Mostin's Metempsychotic Reversal, Mostin's Paroxysm of Fire, Permanency, Tenser’s Destructive Resonance.

6th lvl: Repulsion, Gate Seal, Eyebite, Make Manifest, Hardening, Contingency, Acid Storm, Antimagic Field, Fiendform, Disintegrate, Planar Binding, Summon Monster VI, Analyze Dweomer, Legend Lore, True Seeing, Chain Lightning, Guards and Wards, Tenser's Transformation, Mass Haste, Mostin's Id Eruption

7th lvl: Banishment, Sequester, Energy Immunity, Vipergout, Delayed Blast Fireball, Teleport Without Error, Spell Turning, Summon Monster VII, Greater Scrying, Vision, Insanity, Plane Shift, Ethereal Jaunt, Limited Wish, Reality Maelstrom, Mordenkainen's Magnificent Mansion.

8th lvl: Mind Blank, Greater Planar Binding, Great Shout, Summon Monster VIII, Sympathy, Trap the Soul, Discern Location, Binding, Etherealness, Mostin's Metagnostic Inquiry, Polymorph any Object, Mass Manifest, Symbol, Maze.

9th lvl: Summon Monster IX, Wish, Gate, Time Stop, Prismatic Sphere, Imprisonment.

Magic Items: 

Looking Glass of Urm Nahat (Mirror of Mental Prowess)
Portable Hole
Bracers of Armour +4
Ring of Protection +4
Incandescent Blue Sphere Ioun Stone (+2 Wis)
Pale Green Prism Ioun Stone (Sustains without Air)
Iridescent Spindle Ioun Stone (Sustains without Food or Water)
Amulet of Absorption (21 Spell Levels Remain): 3 currently stored
Headband of Intellect +6
Robe of Eyes
Belt of Many Pockets
Mostin's Comfortable Retreat
4 Potions of "Cure Serious Wounds."


----------



## Sepulchrave II

*A Brief Note for the Mystically Inclined*

Regarding Eadric's experience:


*SEEING FOR THE FIRST TIME*

There is a compounded meaning within this phrase. Not only _saizhan_ – i.e. “Insight,” but also insight into the nature of insight, and insight into that etc. The rational mind rapidly loses the ability to grasp the spiralling nature of the Real.

*I-THOU*

This calls into question the conventional apprehension that the object (in this case, Oronthon/Tramst) and the subject (Eadric) are, in fact, separate entities. By extension, all other dualities between the perceiver and the perceived are shown to be merely conventional, and not ultimately Real.


*BEING-NONBEING-BECOMING*

The three possible ontological states as understood by Urgic Mysticism: either something _is_, or _is not_ or is in the process of _becoming something else_. No phenomenon, when viewed from the standpoint of conventional philosophy, can exist outside of this triad. Again, this is called into question by _saizhan_ when describing the Real.


*KNOWING-UNKNOWING*

The nature of _saizhan_ itself cannot be framed in conventional epistemological language, and transcends the usual categories of gnostic understanding. The duality between whether the Real is known, or whether it is not, is also shown to be false.


*SEEKING-FINDING-LOSING-FINDING*

The rational mind attempts unsuccessfully to reassert itself and grasp the nature of the Real. During the experience of _saizhan_, when the subject attempts to articulate the nature of the Real using conventional thought, the experience eludes him. Only when it is lost to the rational mind, can its nature be apprehended. The Real is slippery.


*TIME-BEING ETERNITY-NONBEING NOW-BECOMING*

The ontological triad (being, nonbeing, becoming) is linked with the three temporal states (conventional linear time, timelessness/eternity and the moment Now), but _saizhan_ reveals these correspondances to be nothing more than convenient labels. The true nature of the Real is beyond these categories, and cannot be described by normal temporal language.


*EVERYTHING-NOTHING*

The extremes of monism (i.e., the philosophical idea that ‘all is one’), and nihilism (‘nothing is Real’) are shown to be false conceptions – _saizhan_ reveals that the duality between them is constructed, not Real.


*IDENTITY-DIFFERENCE*

An important point, in which _saizhan_ diverges from other mystical systems. Even the duality between regarding whether something is identical to something else, or different from it is shown to be vacuous. 


*RELATIVE-ABSOLUTE*

The philosophical coup, which marks _saizhan_ as unique (and is a demonstration of Tramst’s genius). Here, the distinction between the Real (the absolute) and the merely conventional (the relative) is shown to be false. Even this duality is addressed. Now there is nothing left for the rational mind to grasp onto. 


*NOTHING IS. NOTHING IS NOT. NOTHING BECOMES*

The final, bold assertion framed as a threefold dialectic of negation, and reiterating the ontological questions raised before. The Real cannot be described as either _existing_ or _not existing_, or as being in the process of _becoming_. This is the central mystical assertion of _saizhan_.


----------



## Sepulchrave II

Sorry for the slight delay (ahem). As I've said, updates are likely to be less frequent from now on (although, hopefully, not quite _this_ infrequent.)

I'll try and stop in again later today to answer any questions that I haven't yet addressed. 

If any kind moderators are around, some radical pruning of this thread _would_ be enormously appreciated...


***



*The Rape*


Wyrt, a cloth-merchant of considerable financial means, lived in a large, comfortable manse in the Temple district of Morne. His home – constructed on a single level in the antique style – was maintained to immaculate standards.  Pristine whitewashed walls, a red clay pan-tiled roof, and a neat, formal garden were looked after by Wyrt’s small but diligent retinue of indentured servants.

Wyrt – a member of Morne’s influential middle class – enjoyed his life, although of late the war had taken a toll on his income. His wife, Qéma, was a younger daughter of the Silubrein household – relatives of the incumbent Earl of Scir Cellod in the south of Wyre. The marriage had been a favorable one, elevating Wyrt to quasi-noble status, and benefiting the Silubreins with a much-needed boost to their near-empty coffers. Wyrt was a _Gilded Thane_, in the popular parlance – regarded with disdain by those of established pedigree, but nonetheless one who wielded as much power as many of those who could trace their lineage back twenty generations.

An hour before sunset, as clouds were gathering again in the sky above Morne, and many wondered what new sorcery was at work, Wyrt suddenly paused above his ledgers and accounts, his quill pen twitching nervously in his hand. He swallowed, and his hackles rose. Blood thundered in his temples as he thought of Qéma, and he wondered what folly had led him to marry her in the first place. He glanced around his study, selected a sturdy marble book-end, and went in search of his wife.

Wyrt never had a chance to smash her skull, however, because as he exited a small drawing-room, Qéma stood in wait for him. She pushed a long larding needle into his throat, and Wyrt fell over, gurgled briefly, and died.

In a red haze, Qéma walked outside and went to look for the gardener, who had annoyed her earlier that day by what she perceived as his mismanagement of the shrubbery. 

Across Morne, with minor variations, the pattern was repeated a thousand times.


**


"The Goddess is angry," Nwm said with startling certainty, as his torc relayed a variety of natural grumblings to his mind.

"Graz’zt has come?" Eadric asked anxiously. "Can you determine his whereabouts?"

"I cannot," Nwm answered. "And Graz’zt is merely the latest in a succession of aliens who _should not be here._" The Druid’s disdain towards demons, devils, celestials and incarnate deities alike was barely concealed. His perceptions shifted repeatedly as he tried to focus on something tangible in his consciousness. Half a minute passed.

Across his field of inner vision, tiny points of light – sentient beings – appeared. All of those within nine miles, in fact. There were eighty-four thousand three hundred and nineteen of them. In the Temple district of Morne, many flared rapidly – enjoying a brief moment of intensity – before they disappeared permanently. He watched in morbid fascination as lives were snuffed out.

Death – unnatural - violence – the desire to do great violence – fear – _hatred_.

Nwm vomited, as his groping mind resonated with the emotional reality of what was transpiring within the city.

"Hatred," he gasped.

"Enchantment?" Mostin asked cannily.

"Yes. YES."

"Intriguing," the Alienist observed.

"Is it permanent?" the Paladin asked. "Are those who enter likely to feel its effects?"

"No, and no," Mostin answered. "Unless Graz’zt’s stature has somehow grown tenfold."

"Do we really know how powerful he is?" Ortwin asked nervously.

"Not _that_ powerful," Mostin assured him.

"Er, so remind me why exactly Oronthon’s avatar isn’t doing anything about this," Ortwin said sarcastically.

"I am in no mood for a Theological debate," Eadric snapped.

"Nwm would say Thealogical," Mostin quipped.

The Druid groaned, and abruptly turned into an eagle. He exited the tent, screeched, and was quickly joined by two more – Sem and Gheim. The three flew towards Morne. Eadric, Ortwin and Mostin followed him out, to be greeted by a riot of colour – Templars, aristocrats, soldiers and mercenaries – all of whom had expectant looks upon their faces.

_Ahma_, they cried with one voice. 

_Oh, Sh*t_, thought the Paladin. The damn army wanted someone to tell them what to do. He motioned to Brey and Sercion, who approached expectantly.

"Assemble every anointed Templar*," Eadric instructed his captains. "We are going into Morne."

A wide grin appeared on Brey’s face. "That is a wise choice, _Ahma_. Our holiness alone will prevail. We have no need of foreign mercenaries."

The Paladin smiled grimly. "You misunderstand, Brey. We are not going in to fight. I require swords to remain in their scabbards."

Tramst had told him that he would know what to do. He hoped he was doing the right thing.


**


Inside the audience chamber of the Royal Palace – the ceiling of which still dripped slowly from the torrential rains of the previous night – Prince Tagur was finally received by King Tiuhan and the remainder of the Small Council. He limped, his arms were burned and painful from the exchange with Rimilin and the Demons outside of the gates, and he was still bloody and bruised from his escape from Hullu’s encampment.

Foide, who had privately hoped for Tagur’s demise, feigned relief at his appearance. The Prince of Einir, who seldom misread others’ motives, scowled briefly.

"So who had the bright idea of employing the Demonist as an ambassador?" He spat sarcastically.

"His Majesty," the Chamberlain replied loftily. "And you should speak with more respect, although we are glad to find you alive and well."

Tagur gave an icy stare. "Foide, shut up." He bowed to the Boy-King. "I fear that you may have made an error of judgement, your Highness.** It is a hard lesson – but you should learn from it. Where is Rimilin now?"

"No longer here," Sihu answered. "The Bishop of Gibilrazen says that he and the Heretic are most likely engaged in some diabolic feud, where they are arguing about who claims the spoils after the world ends."

"Where is that fat oaf, anyway?" Tagur asked irreverently, causing Tiuhan to snicker.

"He has returned to the Temple," Sihu replied with earnest piety. "He left abruptly, and did not explain why."

The Prince grunted. From Eadric’s words, he had an inkling of the reasons for the Bishop’s sudden departure, but felt no urge to share them with the others present. Damned religious nonsense. Why couldn’t people just get by without it?

After an hour of wrangling about how best to deal with the ongoing crisis in Wyre – half a dozen armies in the area, all but their own respective troops of dubious loyalty to each of the magnates present – Attar, the Warden of the North returned to the chamber. His normally taciturn manner had been replaced by something which Tagur perceived to be close to panic.

"Riots have broken out in the Temple Quarter," he panted.

"What now," Foide sighed drily, "another doctrinal dispute?"

"If it is, I’ve never seen anything like it before," Attar replied. "It’s some kind of hysteria. They’re killing each other in the streets. Templars, soldiers who were stationed on the West Wall, old women, toddlers, everyone."

Tagur groaned. The Demonist probably had a hand in this new mischief. And with the Heretic outside of the city, they could hardly draw soldiers away from the walls to contain it. He motioned to Attar, winced in pain as he hurried out of the audience room, and made his way to the tall West Tower of the palace.

_Sh*t_, he thought as he looked out at the scene. They were butchering each other by the hundred out there, and new fires were starting – their smoke rising to join the smoldering remnants of those which had burned the night before. A lot had happened in a day. And now the Fane itself was burning.

In disbelief, Prince Tagur watched as the Temple’s south transept, wracked by earthquake, wind, torrential rain, and now, fire, teetered and cracked. Immense butresses and pilons snapped like straws, and the edifice collapsed in a ruin, briefly exposing a light in the nave beyond, before it was obscured by smoke and dust. 

From inside the Temple, something reached out and gently touched his mind. Tagur suddenly _saw_. The cosmos melted, and was made whole again in an instant. Moments later, Eadric’s trumpets sounded beyond the city walls.

Tagur turned to Attar. "Let him in," he said. "Before its too late."

The Warden’s jaw dropped. "Your Highness…" he began.

"Do it. Open the South Gate."


**


"It is only a technical violation," Mulissu complained. "I don’t see what all the fuss is about." She lounged in one of the huge leather chairs in Shomei’s study.

Jovol sighed. "If you don’t have the stomach for this, Mulissu…"

"Don’t be so damned condescending. I admire the principle. I agreed to listen to you, didn’t I?" Her memory flashed back to her own fears of assault from Feezuu – although the Ogre’s proposition would have done little to protect her.

"Under much duress," Shomei said snidely. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, the scars from her exchange with Titivilus still apparent. "Besides, its not as though _you_ will be the one to suffer the consequences of it."

"It is a tedious waste," the Savant answered. "And I still don’t understand why we can’t perform the ritual afterwards. Or why the clauses regarding summoning and wizards assailing other wizards can’t simply be dropped. There will always be extenuating circumstances."

"Not any more," the Ogre replied. "The Injunction will now be watertight." 

"_Nothing_ is ever watertight. Mostin won’t like this." Mulissu sighed.

Shomei laughed. "If there are any loopholes, he will find them."

"Mostin has hardly been an exemplar in observing the Injunction," Jovol agreed wrily. "Which is why I have decided to include him. I’d rather have him in on it, than trying to wriggle around it. Besides, we need his input to fuel the spell. I have already sent written copies of the proposal to Waide, Tozinack, Daunton and Hlioth – a quorum is desirable."

"Mostin means well," Mulissu sighed. "But will be reluctant to surrender his sovereignty to an abstraction." A worried look crossed her face. "You’ve made a powerful case, Jovol, but I fear that what you suggest will rip the heart out of magic in Wyre."

"It will merely relocate a certain aspect of it."

"And Hlioth? She is hardly reliable."

"You do not know her as I do. I’ve shown you the Web of Motes."

"It is indecipherable to me," the Witch said, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. "I must take your word for it. And what happens if you receive a blanket refusal from all of those whom you have asked?" Mulissu probed.

"Then I will _Gate_ in half a dozen Solars and they will help me instead," Jovol grumbled. "One way or another, _this will happen_." 

"Have you decided upon the Enforcer?" Shomei asked. "One of the _Akesoli_*** could be bound with this spell."

Jovol shook his head. "They are too political," he said. "And to co-opt them would cause too many ripples. But I concur with your reasoning – something Diabolic would seem to fit the bill, but something outside of the established order – I am leaning towards Gihaahia." 

"That is certainly a terrifying prospect for potential violators," Shomei nodded.

"An infernal magnate?" Mulissu asked, uninformed about the nuances of the Diabolic hierarchy.

"An _Infernal_," Shomei replied. "The offspring of Prince Astaroth and the dead Goddess, Cheshne."

"She is not dead," Jovol smiled. "She dreams with the others."

"In any case, Gihaahia is an abhorrence. An atavism from a previous reality."

"Your concept of reality is quaintly rational," Jovol chided.

"And yours is numinous bunkum," Shomei retorted. "But I am not here to argue metaphysics – or transmetaphysics, before you say anything."

Mulissu groaned and looked bored. This was precisely why she had isolated herself for so long. "I will fetch Mostin," she said, and vanished.


**


The Alienist seethed, looking at the huge, carved marble slab.

"You have _no_ right to do this," he snapped.

"I have the power," Jovol replied calmly. "And the foresight. And a responsibility to the future. That is enough."

"And _you?_" Mostin looked incredulously at both Mulissu and Shomei. "Have you lost your wits? You of all people, Shomei. You live for this. You cannot _ban_ an entire subschool of magic."

"I accept the limitations as part of a larger set of rules, Mostin. Jovol will not move on any of them. Besides, it will only affect those who cannot perform their summonings elsewhere."

"That is precisely why it won’t work," Mostin sighed. "Those who wish to will simply go elsewhere in order to do it, and then order their creatures into Wyre."

Jovol touched the slab. In response to his words, a minute paragraph carved upon the huge tablet glowed, and seemed to grow in size. Luminous runes hung in the air.

*33.6(e)*_…this prohibition extends to the calling or summoning of creatures outside of the excluded area, and their subsequent deployment within it. Such violators will also be subject to the Enforcer._

"Pah!" The Alienist snorted. "What about the didactic implications? To remove summoning from a mage’s repertoire will impact the understanding of magic in general."

"I have the same concern," Mulissu nodded.

"And I am concerned about _defense_," Mostin said. "What happens if a Wizard is magically attacked, and his or her specialty is conjuration? He can no longer summon creatures to protect him."

Jovol smiled, and touched the tablet. "Observe…"

*5.0* _No Wizard shall, at any time or in any way, assail another Wizard by magical means…_

"That’s pretty radical," Mostin said.

"The _theory_ of summoning is not banned, nor is the practice beyond Wyre’s boundaries. Please, Mostin, do not get stuck on this one point. Read the tablet in its entirety. There are clauses to cover every contingency, and even an appeal clause in the case of possible miscarriage."

"Appeal? Appeal to whom? To you?"

"To the Claviger." Jovol replied.

"What the Hell is the _Claviger_?" Mostin asked.

"You are looking at it," Jovol said, a wide grin appearing on his huge face, and exposing rows of enormous fangs, "at least, in a manner of speaking. The Claviger inhabits the tablet upon which the Injunction has been scribed."

"The tablet is _sapient_?" The Alienist asked in disbelief.

"Profoundly so," Jovol nodded. "It can also independently manifest itself. The Enforcer will be bound to the Claviger, and will act as directed by it."

"What is this ‘intelligence?’" Mostin asked. "Where did it originate?"

Jovol laughed. "Dream," he said.

Mostin raised an eyebrow. "What is its order – in the sense of its size, rather than its genus? Its inclination? Its motivations?"

"It is the Claviger," Jovol said simply. "And it has agreed to my suggestion."

"To inhabit this piece of rock? It must be crazy. I am disinclined to trust it."

"Trust is inconsequential," Jovol sighed. "It is not in the nature of the Claviger to manipulate others for its own ends. It does not have an ego or a personality, in the conventional sense. As to its order – _deific_ would be an understatement. It perceives the magical continuum at all times. It will instantly know of any violation."

The Alienist’s jaw dropped. "This is outrageous," he said. 

"I told you he wouldn’t like it," Mulissu groaned. "Perhaps we should have asked Jalael and Troap."

"To do what?" Mostin inquired suspiciously.

"To help us bind the Enforcer," Shomei answered.

"And what will the Enforcer be?"

"I am leaning towards Gihaahia at present," Jovol answered. 

Mostin wracked his memory, until he recalled the name. The blood drained from his face. "Please wait for a while."

He scanned the tablet minutely for one hour.

"You’re all cracked," he said, and then laughed loudly, as an epiphany struck him. "But count me in. I’ve a feeling you’re going to do it anyway, and if there will be no more summonings, I’d like my last one in Wyre to be a big one."

"I was hoping you’d feel that way," Jovol nodded. "But we are not _calling_ Gihaahia. We will be going _to_ her, in order to bind her."

"That would be less arduous in terms of the magic required," Mostin nodded. "Are co-operative spells a particular specialty of yours, Jovol?" He asked archly.

"They were once," the Ogre nodded, seeing the knowing look upon the Alienist’s face.

"Thought so," Mostin said. "One last thing," he asked, "I was planning on _calling_ two Balors tomorrow…"

"My Web of Motes indicated the possibility," Jovol answered. "If you proceed, you should make sure that you are outside of Wyre, and do not force them to act as your agents within it."

"I assume that extradimensional spaces are not excluded?"

"Of course not," Shomei replied. "You see? It will have little impact on you and I, so long as we exercise prudence."

"When do you propose to bind the Infernal?" Mostin asked.

"Is your highest valence available to you?" Jovol asked.

The Alienist puffed out his cheeks, and nodded.

"Then now is as good a time as any. I will contact Waide and the others. Mulissu?"

The Elementalist agreed, and looked sadly at Jovol. Here was one whom she had barely begun to know, the passing of whose friendship she already lamented. The Ogre had indicated that there was a ninety-six percent chance that he would be dead within two days.

Jovol smiled quietly to himself. His prescience had seldom failed him.  


**


Nwm circled overhead, ready to conjure elementals in order to tear down Morne’s South Gate if necessary. Below him, Eadric sat upon Contundor amid three hundred Templars – those of particular holiness and devotion who acted as channels for their deity’s power.

A deity whose proxy was within the Temple walls, Eadric thought to himself. 

At that moment, a roaring noise – masonry cracking and falling – echoed across the city and to the gates. In the sky, Nwm screeched at Gheim, and the eagle plummeted downwards, broke its dive, and alighted upon the pommel of Eadric’s saddle.

"Part of the Temple just collapsed," Gheim said in a matter-of-fact way. "It is on fire. There are other fires within. Men, women and children are murdering each other on the streets."

Eadric felt sick, and motioned to Jorde, who bore the horn of the recently burned Hyne around his neck. It rang out, to be quickly followed by several more amongst the Templars.

Perhaps a dozen arrows and bolts issued from the towers above the gate, and clattered off of armour and barding. A rather half-hearted response, Eadric mused to himself. Perhaps the others were being deployed inside the walls. He waited. Within the walls, another horn sounded. Moments later, the gates opened.

The Paladin, half-expecting a charge directed at him from within, braced himself for the assault. Instead, numbers of Morne’s inhabitants surged outwards, carrying children too young to walk, and those few possessions which they felt worth saving. Most simply fled. Others seemed to be randomly killing those attempting to escape, or each other. It was impossible to determine who were the victims, and who the attackers. Who was enchanted, and who was not.

"Apprehend anyone behaving aggressively," Eadric’s voice boomed out. "Knock them out and tie them up. We can decide what to do with them when we’ve subdued them." He prayed that it would be enough. Motioning to Brey, Sercion, Jorde and a dozen others, he rode through the gate and headed for the Temple.

The scene which greeted him on his procession was more barbaric, more obscene, and more painful than anything he had ever before encountered. Mutilated corpses were strewn around. Burned. Impaled. Dismembered. Screams of pain echoed across the dust and smoke-filled streets.

As they proceeded, Eadric recalled the words of Titivilus, his appointed Tempter, at his own insistence that Celestials would not permit something like this to happen: _Would they not? Are you confident that you understand the Mind of Oronthon that clearly?_

Apparently, Oronthon _had_ permitted it to happen.

He grimaced. The old paradox again. Have I come so far, only to be confronted with that same doubt? Eadric emptied his mind, and allowed his wavering to pass. He recalled the place where all polarities cease, and drew strength from it.

_I will have your head for this, Demon._







*I.e. Clerics, Paladins and spellcasting Prestige Classes.

** As a Prince of the Blood, Tagur is not required to address the King by the honorific ‘Majesty’ – he may use ‘Highness’ instead. By doing so he also asserts his precedence over those others present.

***The "Pain-Bringers," a group of nine unique Devils charged with administering Amaimon’s  justice. My infernal organization is only loosely based upon official D&D canon – I can include it as an attachment if anyone is interested.


----------



## tleilaxu

follow this link morne fans:

http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showthread.php?s=&postid=691138#post691138


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## Gez

*Re: Fascinating*



			
				Pillars of Hercules said:
			
		

> *Also, a simple question.  How does one pronounce "Titivilus?"
> 
> I am guessing Tish-e-VEEL-us, but that's just a guess based on the pronunciation of the Roman emperor Titian. *




"ti" become "shi" only when some vowel is behind.

I'm simply pronouncing it titivilus (all 'i' short 'i', like in live; or like shortened "ee" sounds); but then again I'm French. There's a joke saying that when you read an English word, you don't know how it is pronounced, and when you hear a French word, you don't know how it is written.



Edit: Yay! My post is, with Tleilxu's, one of the only that survived the pruning ! Go me !


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## Sepulchrave II

Pruned for the last time, ere my powers wane.


AFAIK, its Tit-IV-il-ous. If memory serves, he was originally the medieval patron demon of scribes, printers or calligraphers. Or something.


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## Alejandro

Putting my favorite story hour back on top, so my scroll wheel won't wear out.


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## William Ronald

Sepulchrave,

I have recently rediscovered Lady Despina's Virtue, and followed the threads to the current update.  Thank you for your persistence, hard work, and GREAT story telling.

I am curious as to what lies beyond Wyre, The Thelassine, and the North in  your world.  Also, is it fair to characterize Eadric's attitude to other deities other than Oronthon to be either false deities or essentially irrelevant to him.  (Eadric's great strength, to me, is the ability to look at different viewpoints and to try to determine their worth.  This may ultimately be his best defense as he tries to fight temptation.)

Well done!!


----------



## shilsen

Sepulchrave II said:
			
		

> *Pruned for the last time, ere my powers wane.
> 
> 
> AFAIK, its Tit-IV-il-ous. If memory serves, he was originally the medieval patron demon of scribes, printers or calligraphers. Or something. *




Actually "Titivilus" is the name of a devil who collected mumbled bits of divine service and took them to hell as evidence against the mumbler. The name is also found in France and Germany in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. "Titinillus" is the earliest form of the name (OED). Shows up as "Tytyvyllys" in the anonymous English dream-vision allegory The Assembly of Gods. He appears as one of Satan's minions in the Towneley Judgment play and as a boasting buffoon in the popular morality play Mankind, both from the mid-fifteenth century. 

Behold the powers of Google!


----------



## Gez

shilsen said:
			
		

> *Behold the powers of Google! *




Or should we said, Googilus the Harvester ?


----------



## FreeTheSlaves

Hey Sepulchrave II, I'd really like to see your infernal organisation if I may. 

Oh and of course, well done for raising the story hour standard (and I am not being derogatory to the rest either).


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## Avarice

FreeTheSlaves said:
			
		

> *Hey Sepulchrave II, I'd really like to see your infernal organisation if I may.
> *




You can download it here (the link is at the end of his entry for Titivilus).

Eadric et. al.


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## Cheiromancer

<no text>


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## Sepulchrave II

Thanks for posting the pic, Cheiro. I like the Doc's style, and when I saw the draft sketches I knew that it would be an excellent interpretation.

Especially the hat - which is quite splendid.


There is something of Cardinal Richlieu in the pic, though...


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## tleilaxu

hey no tease Sep, you know I (and others) come running when we see a post of yours in this thread!


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## strawberryJAMM

*BUMP!*

Morne .... too .... low .... on .... page ........

Must .... be .... bumped .... higher! 


 


Jenni


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## ragefearmadness

*Bump*

BUMP!  I dread seeing this SH so far down the page.  It must remain on top!


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## Mytholder

Sepulchrave II said:
			
		

> *
> There is something of Cardinal Richlieu in the pic, though... *




Probably the hedgehog.


----------



## grodog

Hey it's the weekend, perhaps we'll have another post soon, Sep?


----------



## Olive

Check out Sep's new story:
http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=42147

And there's a new Archdevil in the Rogue's gallery thread too!


----------



## Lela

Olive said:
			
		

> *Check out Sep's new story:
> http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=42147
> 
> And there's a new Archdevil in the Rogue's gallery thread too! *




What da heck. . .


----------



## Lazybones

Ser author, verily doth your fame spread beyond these hallowed halls:

http://forums.neverwinterconnection...B.pl?board=news;action=display;num=1045870105


----------



## Warrior Poet

Been away too long ... 

Thanks again for this story.  It's gold.

And now Divertimento ... oh, dear ... 

Thumbs up!

Warrior Poet


----------



## Sepulchrave II

*The Night Before*


"Last season’s style looks good upon you, Mostin," Waide said drily, adjusting his cravat.

The Alienist scowled. "It’s a shame that you’re too fat to do justice to the current one." His dislike for the other Wizard was based mostly on their all too-similar temperaments (Waide was as tight-lipped and pedantic as Mostin himself) – combined with Waide’s disdain for all non-transmutive spells and processes.

Waide smiled thinly. "Thus endeth summoning in Wyre. How do you feel about that, Mostin? What will you do with yourself?"

_Wait until you venture outside of the proscribed area before I unleash the Pseudonaturals on you_, he thought. He shrugged. "I’ll get by. This is only one small part of one small reality."

"Quite so," Shomei interrupted. "We are still waiting for Hlioth and Daunton. Would you care for some refreshment, Waide?"

"Hlioth? That mad old crone won’t come. She’s long past it. I’ll have a herbal infusion, thank-you"

"She will come," Jovol said smoothly, entering the drawing-room.

"Where is Tozinak?" Waide asked. "I assumed that he was to be included."

"He is. He is currently experimenting with object-identification."

A small credence table nearby shifted into a more recognizable human form, spilling the drinks which sat upon it onto the floor. The ever-shifting features of Tozinak appeared beneath his characteristic hooded yellow cloak. He bowed dramatically, and when he rose, he had grown a long beard and his skin had changed colour.

"So we are going to Hell, then?" He asked brightly.

"Not exactly," Mostin said. "Although close enough. Gihaahia abides in the blasted regions abutting Avernus."

"Ahh, an exile," Tozinak nodded sagely.

"It is more complex than that," Shomei said irritably. "In any case, there will be eight of us: You, I, Mostin, Mulissu, Waide, Hlioth, Daunton and Jovol."

"Eight is an inauspicious number," Tozinak said. "Seven or nine would be better. What of Griel?"

"He is unnecessary," Jovol said. "Eight will be enough."

"And you are sure that we have sufficient power to accomplish this?"

Mostin nodded. "Shomei and I have both inspected Jovol’s calculations. We should have no problems. Gihaahia is vastly powerful and ancient, spawned in a forgotten aeon between a Prince of Hell and a Goddess of Nothingness. But we can bind her."

"Are we opening a _Gate_, or shifting straight there?" Waide inquired nervously.

"I would suggest an _Astral Spell_," Mostin offered, "although someone other than I will have to cast it." He was in no particular hurry.

Jovol shook his head. "I will Dream us there."

Mostin raised an eyebrow. "Isn’t that rather unreliable?"

"Not at all," Jovol replied. "And it is much more discreet. It will only take a few minutes.

"And casting the spell?" Waide asked. "Will she just stand there while we bind her?"

Mostin groaned. "Where is your sense of adventure, Waide? You’re so boring. In answer to your question, no. Which is why we will cheat. Jovol will create a temporal bubble before we encounter her – we will not be in the same time-stream."

"That is a sensible precaution," Tozinak nodded.

"Trust me," Jovol said. "It will all be very anticlimactic. The only other thing I should mention is this: we will all sustain backlash from the spell, with the majority of it falling on me. And each of us will invest a small portion of our personal reservoir in addition – again, I will bear the brunt."

"Wait a minute…" Waide began.

"You are so selfish," Mostin chided. "Have you no thoughts for posterity? Can’t you see beyond your own small world? Great magic suffers because of atrophied minds such as yours."

"What is ‘small’ for Jovol, may be more than I can render!"

"Tish!" In fact, although the Alienist himself was distraught by Jovol’s request, the chance to criticize Waide’s reluctance in front of those others present almost made up for it.



**


Eadric rode through the streets of Morne with a dozen of his most stalwart followers, appalled at the scenes which he witnessed. The bulk of the Templars, Ortwin and Iua – together with the circling Nwm and his two eagle companions – were left to deal with the chaos around the south gate and the mustering grounds within the city’s tall walls. Identifying who was affected by the compulsion was near impossible, and as Ortwin clobbered random people over the head with the pommel of his scimitar, he wondered how long the mass subdual would take.

Fortunately, Nwm intervened. With a spell that made many of the Paladins and Clerics shake with the memory of what had transpired on the Nund meadows, the Druid conjured a writhing mass of poisonous vines which entangled the limbs of those present. More than three-quarters of the crowd were pinned, and many succumbed to the paralyzing effects of the burgeoning vegetation.

The work of the Temple knights was made considerably easier – the vines covered an area of more than two acres – and at the Druid’s command, they next wrapped and bound around five hundred of Morne’s hapless citizens. Seeing the success of the conjuration, Nwm squawked and flew in search of other pockets of conflict, preparing to cast as many _entangle_ spells – and variations thereof – that he could muster. He was joined in the air by both Ortwin and Iua, taking advantage of the perspective that it offered, and grimly observing the wreck of the Temple quarter – from the air, the pattern of death and violence seemed to radiate outwards from the Fane itself.


Night was falling. The Temple compound itself was eerily quiet. Several outbuildings had been torched, and they burned steadily. Dust still hung thick in the air from the recent collapse of the Great Fane’s south face. The bodies of Templars – many of those few dozen who had remained in Morne – were scattered across the blackened lawns and terraces. Eadric ordered his followers to attend to those few that were still breathing – but only after they had been bound or restrained. He dismounted and, followed by Brey, Sercion and Tatterbrand, passed through a blackened door into the sacristy. 

Heaps of torn and shredded chasubles lay within, and vessels lay strewn around. More bodies – priests and acolytes – lay in unlikely postures, where they had struck each other down with ceremonial staves or swords when the spell had taken effect. Before they exited into the ambulatory, Brey’s sharp eyes caught a movement beneath a pile of heavy vestments – he said nothing, but gave Eadric a meaningful look and flicked his eyes towards the robes. The Paladin drew Lukarn, cautiously approached, and pulled the coverings aside. The rather pathetic figure of the Bishop of Hethio was revealed, quivering uncontrollably. Upon meeting Eadric’s gaze, he made a number of ineffectual warding motions.

"I am doomed," he groaned. "The Adversary has come for me."

"Get up," Eadric commanded.

"Leave me, Devil. Get you gone." He brandished a pendant displaying an eagle at the Paladin.

"GET UP. You reek of taint," Eadric said, grabbing the Bishop’s hair, and dragging him towards the door. "You are an assassin, a liar, a manipulator and a coward."

Hethio screamed in pain as he was pulled along. "Will you sacrifice me?"

"No indeed, Eminence," Eadric spat. "I will take you to see God – which is neither more nor less than you deserve. Why you were spared from this is beyond my understanding. I assume that he has some purpose for you, so I won’t sentence you to death. But be warned – I am in a very, very bad mood."

So Eadric, Brey, Sercion, Tatterbrand and the – albeit reluctant – Bishop of Hethio made their way to the chancel and the Archiepiscopal throne. The Paladin recalled his premonition of the scenes along the Temple corridors. The reality was a thousand times worse than his vision could have possibly suggested.


*


Nine thousand dead, Nwm thought to himself as his mind reached outwards and took a grim tally. He groaned.

A _vine mine_ contained an episode of looting and violence in the Street of Goldsmiths, but by the time that the Druid had circled the city for the third time, he saw that most of the outbreaks were localized and involved only a few people. Tagur had committed soldiers from the defense of the city to arrest any others who were under the effects of the compulsion, and Nwm turned his hand to dousing the flames within Morne. Again. Periodically, he would commune with the Green in an effort to locate any other demons, but they were either out of his range or warded from his inner vision.

The Satyr and the Duelist descended into the outer courtyard of the Temple compound, where Jorde was directing the restraint and healing of any survivors of the _Wave of Hate_. Even Ortwin, a staunch opponent of Temple policy and activity since long before the current crisis had begun, found the scene depressing and unnerving.

"Where’s Ed?" The Bard asked.

"The _Ahma_ has gone to seek the _Sela_," a Paladin replied gravely.

"Where’s Tramst?" He asked irreverently.

"The _Sela_ is most likely within the chancel," the other answered with more earnest piety than Ortwin thought necessary. 

The Bard turned to Iua and grinned. "Wanna go and see a god?" He asked flippantly. "Its okay – he’s harmless. His head stooge is a old friend of mine."

Jorde sighed. He, at least, was used to Ortwin’s idiosyncrasies. "I think, perhaps, only the faithful should be permitted within for the time being."

Iua was about to say something, but a look of ecstasy combined with contrite horror passed across Jorde’s face. "Yes, Lord," he mumbled to himself. "Forgive my presumption."

Ortwin raised an eyebrow.

"The _Sela_ will receive you before the throne," Jorde explained nervously. "He apologizes that the main gate to the Fane is in ruins, and suggests that you use the entrance through the vestry."

"Quite right," the Satyr said facetiously, staring at the wreck of the South Transept. Inwardly, he swallowed, and wondered whether it had been such a good idea after all.


**


Tramst sat beneath the immense symbol of Oronthon – the Eagle-and-Sun which reared in the centre of the Fane. Large chunks of masonry lay scattered within – ornate carvings which had fallen from the ceiling and shattered the pews and cracked the smooth flags of the floor. Yet more bodies lay there, and aside from a handful of Temple officiants and lesser clergy, the _Sela_ was alone. The few present seemed enrapt in some mystical state. Somehow, the Proxy seemed even more mortal and even less divine than before.

Eadric approached tentatively. Despite his best efforts to stop it, his mind swam with questions. _How could you allow? Why did you? Why did you not? What was the purpose?_ He grimaced and tried to make the queries go away.

Do not repress the doubt in your mind, _Ahma._ You know better than that.

_I wish there had been another way._

Do you mean, "Was there no other way?"

_(Ruefully).Yes, Holiness._

Not all Truths are unequal, Eadric. Consider this question: What if Graz’zt acted as the unwitting agent of a wrathful Oronthon, dispensing ire and justice upon those who defied his will?

_Is that so?_

That is one interpretation. Here is another question: Presently, an Eagle flies above Morne. Where it acts, those who suffer from the madness are restrained and can do each other no harm. What if this is the mercy of Oronthon, bringing succour to those who deserve it?

_I understand, Holiness. The fact that it is Nwm does not diminish the fact that certain people will perceive it in a certain way._

It is no less true, in fact: the Sophists would claim that Uedii and Oronthon are one and the same. Equally, it is true to some that you are the agent of the Adversary. You brought ruin upon the Temple. Your desire for a demoness signalled the death-knell for Orthodoxy. Have you accepted that truth yet?

_(Wrily).That is harder._ 

Why, if the Adversary is an aspect of Oronthon?

_That is only one of many conflicting truths._

Ahh, _saizho, Ahma_.

_What must be done now, Holiness?_

There are still loose ends to be tied up. Events are not resolved. When they are, we begin the process of rebuilding. First we must deal with tomorrow: it will bring yet more pain.

_I still have yet to see my role in this, beyond vague ideas._

The Magistratum will be consolidated into one body – the names ‘Mission’ and ‘Inquisition’ will no longer be employed. ‘Temple’ will become the catch-all term: it is a trend well-underway, in any case. The troops in Iald have already been ordered to disband. Eisarn is withdrawing back to Morne. I need to speak with the Royal Council. I will need your diplomatic savvy.

_I promised disestablishment._

They will have it.

_(Embarrassed). I vowed to the Uediians that I would strive to end indentureship, and the Temple would recompense them._

Our coffers are not limitless, but I will honour your promise first. 

_I am also concerned of reprisals from the secular aristocracy directed against Hullu’s faction._

Sihu will not act: she is devout, if misguided – this can be corrected. Tagur is an ally.

_Tagur is a rationalist, Holiness. As much as I respect him…_

I have _shown_ Tagur. It was he who ordered the gates open for you.

_(Surprise). And Foide?_

Foide will remain a problem.

_There is also the issue of Trempa. Soraine’s death will leave a gap, and squabbling nephews will soon begin their maneuvering._

You could claim the Duchy. You have the support.

_I have neither the time nor the inclination to administer it. My spiritual position would also be compromised by temporal concerns. Given the effort that I have made to separate the two, this might be interpreted as somewhat hypocritical. I would have supported Ryth, if he had made a claim._

You may yet be forced to intervene, to prevent more bloodshed. Such is the weight of responsibility.

_(Confession). You have granted me time to act, Holiness. I purpose to assail Graz’zt. I have yet to determine how this is best accomplished._

(Amusement). That is a formidable task. If you ask for my blessing, I cannot give it: vengeance and retribution are not within my purview. Are they yours?

_I don’t know. Perhaps._


*

Tramst turned to look at the Bishop of Hethio, who stood between Brey and Sercion. Each of the great Templars held an arm of the clergyman, whose eyes had remained closed and whose lips had muttered fervent prayers during the silent exchange between Eadric and the _Sela_.

A brief communion occurred. Tramst made an offer.

In doubt, and fear, and spite, and self-hatred, the Bishop declined.

A look of sadness passed across the face of the _Sela_. "Let him go," he said aloud to Brey and Sercion. "Depart, Hethio. Go where you will. At any time, you may approach me again. I do not judge, I merely teach."

But as the Bishop departed in haste from the chancel, Tramst spoke to him again. "You may be disappointed if you return to your see, Hethio. Your palace will be mortgaged, and your estates dissolved: I would hate to burden you with material concerns when your spiritual welfare is at stake."

Hethio grunted. Oronthon’s Proxy turned his attention to Sercion and Brey.

"When the _Ahma_ departs, it would behoove you to remain. There is much that you need to un-learn."

Somewhat daunted, both Templars bowed.

As Eadric exited, picking his way through the rubble and smashed benches, he encountered Ortwin and Iua, both of whom, apparently, were walking towards Tramst. A quizzical look crossed the Paladin’s face.

"Hi Ed," Ortwin said. "Just thought we’d come and take a peek. I’ve never met a god before."

Eadric sighed. In matters religious, would Ortwin never be anything but a casual tourist?


**

_What is this place?_ Mostin wondered, as phantasms floated past his vision for what seemed like hours. Half-formed dreams and reflections, insubstantial yet strangely real. Trees, roads, skies, a vaporous castle, a silver void. He looked around himself.

They didn’t seem to be moving – he, Jovol and the others – although the dreamscape changed in a pattern that he could not quite discern. After a period of intense turbulence, where scenes and sounds manifested in rapid succession, he felt that he had descended into someone else’s nightmare.

*ANGERPAINDEATHPAINTORTUREVIOLENCE. CRUELTYLOATHINGMALICESPITEUGLINESS. BURNINGHATREDWITHOUTEND.*

Such hatred. It staggered him. His mind span as he strove to maintain his focus. He shot a concerned look towards Tozinak, who of the others there was finding the current strands of consciousness hardest to deal with.

"It will pass," Jovol assured them. "It is merely an echo of an event long past, or one which happened in another time – depending on your perspective. Dream remembers all potentiality – realized or not, past, present or future. Parallel, perpendicular, or extending into an infinity of dimensions."

"What is/was/will be the event?" The Alienist asked, careful not to frame his question in the language of conventional linear time.

"That also depends on your perspective," the Ogre grinned. "The Prime Nodality. The beginning of dualism. The birth of the dialectic. The planting of the seeds of knowledge or damnation."

"The Fall," Shomei said.

"If you subscribe to that particular paradigm," Jovol nodded. "For the moment, we should adopt it whatever our respective world-views: it is relevant to our situation. Let’s just assume that it’s provisionally correct, and act accordingly. We are on the fringes of Hell."

"And Devils dream?" Mostin asked incredulously. "I’ve never seen one sleep, and I’ve known a few."

"Everything dreams," Jovol answered.

"Twaddle," Shomei muttered.

"But why do we feel the ripple here and now?" The Alienist pressed.

"There has been a sympathetic vibration, which hearkened back to an aspect of the Original Nodality."

"Ahh, Graz’zt."

Jovol nodded, sighed, gestured, and modified the passage of time.



*

In her abysm, where she had dwelt for untold aeons, brooding in bitterness and corruption, she stirred. Unlike those who had their place in the Adversary’s grand, despotic regime, she was an outsider – too potent to overcome, too alien to harness. A monstrosity conceived between a fallen Seraph and a forgotten deity who predated existence. Shadows swarmed about her. The fire that burned – within her and around her – both tortured and assuaged her.

The inkling that she had was vague and indistinct, but nonetheless present. A threat, certainly – although from what was impossible to say. It had been an age or more since Devils had attempted to woo her or eliminate her. Instinctively, she wreathed herself in void and vanished, shedding hatred and malice in waves which pulsed from her form. She pulled four Pit Fiends to herself from Hell’s deepest layer, and waited.

It was to no avail. In their temporal bubble, linked by _Rary’s Telepathic Bond_, the Wizards acted in uncanny coordination – an organic unit, from which potency flowed. In her _Fiendform_, Shomei’s eyes pierced the darkness. Their collective sight dispelled the veil of _Invisibility._ 

Gihaahia, and her attendant Devils, appeared frozen in time and space. Jovol spoke the words, and raw power coursed through them all. Mostin’s head span ecstatically, and he resisted the urge to giggle.

The backlash was terrific, causing the Alienist’s skin to crack and his teeth to rattle in his head. Blood vessels across Jovol’s temples, down his neck, and along his arms ruptured, spraying blood over the other Wizards. He groaned, and pulled open the portal to Dream again.

The cabal vanished back into the unconscious world.

Gihaahia noticed nothing until it was too late. She would be called to the Prime, and serve the entity called Claviger.

Strange, she thought. It almost felt like some form of compulsion – not that she had ever experienced one. There were, after all, no compulsions capable of affecting her. 

*

And so it transpired, as Jovol had either foreseen or determined – when a Wizard is an actor in his own visions of the future, who can judge whether it is ordained or not? Mostin, Shomei, Mulissu, Waide, Hlioth, Tozinak and Daunton submitted themselves to the Ogre’s direction, and wrought a spell that would change the future of magic in Wyre.

In that moment, when Gihaahia – scarce less than a demigoddess in her power – was bound to the Claviger, Mostin experienced first-hand his own theories of Will, and the power to make it manifest. It was true. Anything was possible. _Anything_.

Henceforth, the Claviger would reside in a cave in the weathered hills of Mord, south of Morne. Its location would be unknown to those who were not initiated – arcanists of sufficient power and reputation – but would exist as a rumour amongst those who aspired to be counted among the great.

Those Wizards who were vexed by dilemmas regarding their actions could approach the Claviger, and ask it for guidance. In its faultless interpretation of the Injunction, the Claviger would relay its adjudication in a sombre voice, issuing from the tablet upon which Jovol’s words were scribed. 

Occasionally, those who spoke with it would encounter a small child in the chamber – this was generally considered to be the Claviger itself, and was interpreted as a favourable omen by the lucky petitioners. Less often, a woman of singular beauty would relay the Claviger’s stern remonstration to those who, for their own ends,  attempted to interpret the letter of the Injunction against its spirit. This was known to be the Enforcer, whose manifestation was recognized as a dire warning, or worse.

Even with his own great foresight, Jovol could not have guessed that a Mystery cult would eventually develop around the site. The need for religion is incomprehensible to most Wizards, and despite Jovol’s friendship with celestials, and his concern for the welfare of Tramst, he was no exception. 


As for those Wizards who, in fact, violated the Injunction, they would feel the wrath of the Enforcer in measure to their transgression. This was determined by the Claviger, which possessed a near-omniscience with regard to all things magical. Punishments ranged from confiscation of minor items from the Mage’s possessions, through subjection to a _symbol of insanity_ in the event of a more major breach, to summary execution in the most serious of cases.

The first to fall to the Enforcer would be Jovol himself, when, in order to prevent a larger catastrophe, he slew the mage Kothchori.


----------



## Olive

that's not an end is it?


----------



## starwolf

I doubt this is the end of the tales of Eadric et al. but it does make a good ending for Book 1 of a series. Not an action cliffhanger, but a philosophical one.

Book 2 I assume will follow our intrepid heroes as they assail Grazzt and search for Nehael.

Great Job.


----------



## Jeremy

............................................wow

Good lord...  What are you Sep?  No one does stuff this good anywhere...

I love it.  Jovol survives the backlash of the spell only to sacrifice himself again for yet unknown consequences of Kothchori's probable future actions.  I don't suppose we'll eventually get an account of that particular exchange?

Thanks much for the update.  It was exquisite.    Love your work as always.


----------



## Cyronax

Amazing.......

All I can say is thank you for a year and a half of Wyre.

Of course I want more ,
C.I.D.


----------



## ForceUser

Bravo, Sep. Masterfully told.


----------



## Ancalagon

Lazybones said:
			
		

> *Ser author, verily doth your fame spread beyond these hallowed halls:
> 
> http://forums.neverwinterconnection...B.pl?board=news;action=display;num=1045870105 *




Not just there... coments on Nutkinland is what made me begin to read this story hour (or should I say continue, I had abbandoned it during the long hiatus in the first thread)

And bravo for this post!  The irony of Jovol faling to his own creation is... wow.

Ancalagon


----------



## Lela

Not many leave me speachless.  You do it every time.  Amazing.  Impossibly amazing.


----------



## Darklone

Let's create a god of magic...

Love it.


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## tleilaxu




----------



## Mytholder

*Massive, sustained applause*

No-one does it like Sep.


----------



## Azure Trance

Poor Jovol ...


----------



## Lazybones

As always, excellent.  

I am eagerly awaiting the tale of the confrontation on the outer planes, as my story hour is approaching a similar event and I'd like to see how you handle it.


----------



## dpdx

The way I understand it, Jovol's demise wasn't ironic to me. It was a sacrifice, willingly made. He knew that killing Kothchori would bring this type of 'rebuke', and he even foreshadowed it when he spoke to the other mages about the binding being 'at greatest cost to me,' etc.

Of course, my favorite part was when Ed brought Hethio to justice. It's nice to see old wrongs righted.


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## Sepulchrave II

> that's not an end is it?




No.

_This_ is an end (but not _the_ end). I tied things up more quickly in writing than I had anticipated for the 'Rape of Morne.' I must admit, I'm kind of relieved that it's over.

BTW, the final posts only take us to October 2002 - game-wise. Yes, there is more coming (sigh). I suppose I'll have to start another thread. Oh well...

So I guess this is an epilogue, of sorts...




*Epilogue. Of Sorts.*


When dawn broke, and the rains abated, Eadric stood upon the cracked roof of the Fane, looked out, and inspected the damage. He grimaced. The swathe of ruin which emanated from the Temple encompassed a fifth part of the city. And still, although with increasingly less regularity, Templars and city guardsmen reported capturing those who suffered from the madness engendered by the _Wave of Hate_.

Nearly ten thousand dead, in all, if Nwm’s figures were correct. Material damage that would run to more than a hundred tons of silver. A wound in the collective psyche that would probably never heal.

And, ironically, neither new Temple taxes to pay for the rebuilding of the Fane, nor sufficient in the coffers to both recompense the Uediians and begin repairs. He sighed. The price of success.

To the south, beyond the walls of the city, neat rows of Temple tents – interspersed with a disordered riot of gaudy aristocratic pavillions – were plainly visible. His banners floated in the morning wind.

"They’ll want paying, you know," Ortwin said, fluttering down behind him in his winged boots. "At least the Ardanese. The Aristocracy will expect land-grants and tax breaks. The Uediians will want…"

"I know, I know," the Paladin grumbled.

"If you claim the Duchy…"

"I will _not_," Eadric snapped.

"You might have to, Ed. Even Tramst said you might have to. You don’t have to govern it directly – appoint a steward or something."

"Ryth would have made a good Duke."

"Ryth got burned up with the Duchess, if you recall. I doubt Soraine would have favoured him, in any case. Did she leave any clues to who she felt was suitable? Other than yourself, of course." Ortwin couldn’t resist the final jibe. 

The Paladin shook his head.

"Who’s the technical heir?"

"Probably Skadding. But Trempa has always held with the bestowal of favour, combined with lineage. At one point, it advocated ultimageniture. It’s eccentric like that. Too close to Ardan."

"What’s Skadding like?"

"Young. Inexperienced." Eadric groaned. "And Foide’s son."

"Ahh," Ortwin said.


**


The Devil’s eyes narrowed when he learned of the news.

_You sneaky old bastard_, he thought, as he considered Oronthon. _You keep changing the damn rules. Where’s the fun in that?_

Gihaahia! He wondered who amongst the Infernal hierarchy had been privy to the likely course of events – or rather who the Adversary had deigned to inform for his own, inscrutable ends. Titivilus scowled, and wondered why he had not been one of them.

The sweet promise that the Accord had been relaxed for him – in order to facilitate the ongoing temptation of Eadric – was now sullied by the countermeasures set in place by Fillein, or Jovol, or whatever he called himself these days.

An Injunction carved in stone was no bad thing – those Wyrish dilettantes needed a measure of discipline in their lives. But a ban on summoning? He sensed the Bright God’s meddling hand in events, and wondered what deal had been struck between the Ogre and Rintrah. He also wondered who of the Wizards in Wyre might draw the same conclusion. But Oronthon’s interdict extended to the Infernal as well – at least in theory. And now she was the helot of some damned Dream-thing. Damn celestial double standards.

Titivilus recalled the deal that Shomei had forced upon him. It, also, was not to the Duke’s liking. Sneaky bitch. 

He fumed silently. 

He had thought that he’d had her cornered, that she had been foolish enough to return to him openly. And despite her rod, and the numerous wards that sat on her, he should have finished her there and then. It had been the first time that he’d used his sword in almost two hundred years, and had caught her off-guard. But she weathered the assault and vanished. 

Fifteen minutes later, Titivilus had been dragged into a pocket dimension and trapped within a thaumaturgic diagram. At that moment, both of them had known that she could ask for anything and he would be forced to yield: to miss his appointment with the _Ahma_ would have been inexcusable.

The Devil relaxed, and smiled. She was audacious. He couldn’t help but admire her.

_Not that that will stop me from killing her, when the time comes_, he thought.


**


"What do you mean, he’s dead?" Mostin was livid. "That’s impossible. He was a little shaken up yesterday, but that’s hardly surprising given the magic that he harnessed."

Mulissu shrugged. "He knew he would die. He merely needed to choose the way in which it occurred – to maximize the potential for order, and to maintain the Injunction."

The Alienist blustered briefly. "Well, what happened? Was it the backlash?"

"Oh, no. He’d fully recovered by about midnight. He killed Kothchori, and the Enforcer annihilated him."

Mostin’s jaw dropped. "But…"

"Kothchori was about to open a second _Gate_. Jovol’s prognostications revealed that had he done so, even the death of the other mage at the hands of the Enforcer would have come too late – Graz’zt would have made a second transit and…done something which Jovol felt was unacceptable, I suppose. Rimilin was present also, and Griel, but Jovol didn’t kill them."

"_Griel?_ What the…? How did he find them?"

"I guess Griel was not _Mind Blanked_ and he inferred their location through his _Web of Motes_."

"But I wanted to talk to him! I never had the chance to speak with him, to question him. Jovol was Fillein, you know."

"_Fillein?_ Mostin, you need a drink. Fillein has been dead for…"

Mostin waved his hand. "He had some kind of…self-incarnating thing…or something. Titivilus intimated as much to Eadric. In which case, death may only be a temporary inconvenience for him."

"One would certainly hope so," Mulissu said optimistically, although somewhat disbelieving. "He left me his _Web of Motes_, although I cannot penetrate its mysteries – yet. I believe that he passed something along to Shomei as well, and maybe others."

Mostin sniffed, feeling rather snubbed.

"And, yes, he left something for you, Mostin. It is very heavy." The Witch snapped her gloved fingers, and an ornate box of carved wood appeared beneath her arm. 

The Alienist raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"I don’t know. It seemed a little rude to sneak a look."

"I’d have looked," Mostin said honestly, unlocking the silver clasps. The lid opened smoothly, to reveal a stone tablet wrapped within red silks.

"I hope it’s not a copy of the Injunction," Mulissu sighed. "That would be rather tedious."

The Alienist pulled the fabrics aside and swallowed. The tablet was weathered and cracked, but still quite readable. "It’s a spell."

"Mmm?" The Savant said in a distracted voice, attempting to sound disinterested. "What’s it called?"

"_Graz’zt_," Mostin replied, shaking.


----------



## Greg Dickens

Now that is a cliffhanger.


----------



## Seule

Sepulchrave II said:
			
		

> *"Graz’zt," Mostin replied, shaking. *




I'm caught between horrified laughter and frightened admiration.  That may be the single best moment in any story hour I have read, and I regularly read about 6 (including this one, of course).  I assume that's an Epic Spell, graven so there's no cost to learn it, and I can only imagine what it might do.  Knowing Sep, I'm probably nowhere near the actual effect.
Wow.  An Epic Spell named after the Lord of Demons.  From Jovol, which means it's probably something he'll need.  I fear the possibilities of that spell.

  --Seule


----------



## shilsen

One word - sublime.


----------



## Mytholder

!


----------



## Olive

wicked.

so many posts in so few days.


----------



## starwolf

Seule said:
			
		

> *
> 
> 
> Wow.  An Epic Spell named after the Lord of Demons.  From Jovol, which means it's probably something he'll need.  I fear the possibilities of that spell. *





I don't think it is named after the Lord of Demons, it IS the Lord of Demons.......


----------



## Taren Seeker

I assume it's the spell Jovol used to trap Graz'zt the last time he was feeling froggy.

Sep, excellent work. According to the word doc I have of your story hour you've already written a hefty novel here (over 300 full sized pages). It's time to knock it into a publishable format I think...

Looking forward to reading your other story hour as well, especially since I've developed an incredibly similar PC in one of my home games...a northern tribesman who uses iajutsu, mobility et al. I plan on shamelessly stealing from you to flesh out my background


----------



## tleilaxu

your last post gave me the impression that you are burning out on the story hour.



> This is an end (but not the end). I tied things up more quickly in writing than I had anticipated for the 'Rape of Morne.' I must admit, I'm kind of relieved that it's over.
> 
> BTW, the final posts only take us to October 2002 - game-wise. Yes, there is more coming (sigh). I suppose I'll have to start another thread. Oh well...




Just want you to know that we all appreciate you sharing your story with us, but you shouldn't feel like you _have_ to make the updates. I hope it has been as fun writing the story hour as it has been reading it. My only suggestion is to do something that is fun for you, wether this story or something else. I've already gotten more enjoyment out of it than i ever expected to.


----------



## Sepulchrave II

> Just want you to know that we all appreciate you sharing your story with us, but you shouldn't feel like you have to make the updates. I hope it has been as fun writing the story hour as it has been reading it.




Actually, it has been immensely rewarding.

Sometimes fun. Sometimes very, very frustrating. I am actually looking forward to starting the new thread - I guess that I felt that winding up the current one to my complete satisfaction was necessary before I could come at the new one 'fresh', as it were. That was hard.

It has also required more self-discipline that I thought myself capable of. Time is a big constraint - I don't have anything like as much as I need, and stealing the odd hour here and there was an unsatisfactory way for me to write. I am beginning to adjust, however. I need to 'get it out' and down on paper (or a WP screen, in this case.)

Thanks to everyone for your support - I _really_ couldn't have done it without you. If I've seemed absent, or unresponsive to your questions at times, then I apologize but time, time, time....

Now I have 3 tasks:

1) Begin the new thread. This will be a pleasant break from...

2) Edit the master document for Virtue, Heretic and Rape into something publishable - as noted by Taren Seeker. This will be arduous, and frankly, I dread it - I'm more critical of my work than anyone else. It is necessary, however. It will take a long time.

3) Update 'Divertimento' when the other stuff becomes too overwhelming. The pace is different, and although it has only been five or six very infrequent sessions, the game has a lot of potential. I judge that updates to this thread will be very, very infrequent.


Thanks again for many kind words, and continued support.

No doubt, see you around soon.


Jim.


----------



## Guardian Andy

*bow*

Yeah, what can you ask for?

Sep was doing us for free. Nobody does it like Sep.  

If this will be a book, what name would you call it?*THESTORYOFAPALADINWIZARDDRUID&BARD'S EPICSTORY*?


----------



## Vargo

Tell us when and whom to preorder from - I've got the money sitting by my bedside for it.


----------



## Jeremy

What would you call it?

Well I'd call it, "Perfect".  But I view it through rosy glasses, and it's not a very snappy title.

"Bestseller" might be another apt name for it, but again, apt is not always catchy.  Besides, like his story hour, Sepulchrave's names for his works has always been as fitting and evocative as his works, so I have little doubt something will, or already has, occurred to Sep.


----------



## Seravin

*My two platinum pieces*

Thanks Sep.
I've been an avid follower since the very first post.  It's gotten better with every single one.  

Also, for what it's worth, you've helped to improve my game and given a star to shoot for.


----------



## Felix

It is so nice to see those words "edit for publishing".

Tolkein worked for years and years on the Lord of the Rings books, and after all was said and done, he had but one major problem with his work: He thought it was too _short_.

You have an incredible story in Wyre, and it would be sad to see any of the detail you have laid out for us (for free!) to be lost by the wayside in publishing. As someone who has experienced the vicissitudes of publishing, I wish you the very best of luck, and this piece of advice: _Illegetemis non corborundum_, Don't let the bastards get you down!


----------



## grodog

That's a great ending!!   Thanks Sep, as always, for sharing your labors as a DM and the wondeful game you and your players have built!  

If you're looking for editorial assistance sometime, shoot me an email.

My speculation for Jovol's gift to Mostin:  Graz'zt's truename.


----------



## Warrior Poet

Jim,

I just want to echo some of what has already been posted here.

This is the best story on these boards, and a master work in its own right.

The last two updates were the best posts I've ever read on this or any other message board.

This story is greatness, and, as one writer to another, though you may be your own worst critic, I encourage you to attend faithfully to the editing and compilation of this work.

I also want to say that when it hits the shelves I'll be there to buy it.  In hardcover.  And I'll look for you on the book tour and request an autograph and then I'll say "Thanks.  Thanks for your time and effort and one hell of a story."

My regret is that I do not have sufficient words to praise this story to the extent it deserves.

Many thanks,

Warrior Poet


----------



## Cyronax

Darn it...i was hoping that it was just speculation that this was the end. Well so be it......I've said my praises before, but I'll say them again. 

I also wanted to let you know that I've been passing around your story (in a word compilation i made) to some non-gamer friends of mine, and though some of them consider D&D a bit "of a waste of time" or a "not their style" sort of thing, they really enjoyed your story, and got past some of inside references thanks to your great writing.

One of them has even "gone geek" and has joined my gaming group pretty much because of your story. He's expecting a lot based on your god-like example...let's just hope I can deliver. 

Anyway, I just thought I'd let you know that your story can transcend the game (which I'm sure you knew anyway  ), and I think you'll get a great response from it.  

I'll see you in your new thread,
C.I.D.


----------



## Pillars of Hercules

*Brilliant*

Sep,

I'm a bit of a lurker on this Story Hour, but now seemed a good time to let you know how brilliant it is and how much I appreciate your work.

PS Wow


----------



## William Ronald

Sepulchrave,

First, well done.  I have enjoyed the story of Eadric and his friends immensely.  This is a truly an epic tale, in every sense of the word.

As I writer, I tend to be my own worst critic.  I would advise you to ask a friend to look over your work.  This has helped me in several ways.  First, a good friend can spot flaws that you have missed.  Also, it helps to have someone check for spelling errors.  (I have caught humorous typos in novels.)

Also, a few of my friends have helped me gain greater insights into my characters and their world.  Good luck, and thanks for all the hard work.


----------



## starwolf

Sep,

Perhaps now would be a good time for the Legends of Morne to be archived so that we could point future addi.....uh fans to one link rather than the current five (or is that six?).....especially since I believ we'll see even more with the start of Divertimento (sp?)


----------



## Darklone

Yeah, sep, make a big announcement here when you publish it. 

As for the name... Go with "Lady Despinas Virtue". Please.


----------



## Sammael99

Sep,

Congrats for getting there !

Yours is the milestone to which all SH writers aspire !


----------



## Jeremy

As for Mostin's gift, as the tablet is old and crumbling, I'd agree with the theory that it is the same epic spell Jovol/Fillein used long ago to bind Graz'zt he must have forseen a possible use for it if Eadric et al decide that Graz'zt does need his hand slapped for his naughtiness.

Let the de-naughtification begin!


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

To use the favourite phrase of Sep fans since this started...

*WOW.*

And thank you.


----------



## Eridanis

Yikes. What an abrupt ending. However, you took the time to grasp the nettle and give the story some closure, rather than leave it hanging for eternity, and for that I thank you.

I'll look forward to the next thread! And I don't envy your task of turning a string of short stories into a novel. But I know it will be worth it.


----------



## Kestrel

I have to agree with Tallarn.

Wow.  Simply wow.  

Its very few times that I get chills and watery eyes from reading great passages.  This story hour has had quite a few.  I can't wait to read the next installment.

Wow.


Thanks for sharing this great story with us Sepulchrave.

Brian


----------



## Rackhir

Well if this is all to be collected as one "book" I would definitely vote for "Lady Despina's Virtue" it was what got this whole ball rolling and is one of my favorite titles of all time. Quite aside from the obvious implications, there is something subtle, suggestive and witty about it, that I've never quite been able to put my finger on.


----------



## wolff96

You know, I read a lot of books.

I've spent (literally) hundreds of dollars on novels, hardbacks, and other forms of literature throughout my relatively short life.

And this is, quite literally, the best thing I have ever read.

Is there any address where we can just send you money to help while you're trying to get this published?  I feel like I'm ripping you off by reading it for free.

That ending is incredible.

Oh, and I'd like to vote for "Lady Despina's Virtue" as well.


----------



## Lela

wolff96 said:
			
		

> *You know, I read a lot of books.
> 
> I've spent (literally) hundreds of dollars on novels, hardbacks, and other forms of literature throughout my relatively short life.
> 
> And this is, quite literally, the best thing I have ever read.
> *




Ditto.


----------



## sparhawk

Long time lurker here. This has been a great story SEP. Please keep up the great work and let us all know when you publish.


----------



## Tuerny

Remind me who Fillein is again?


----------



## Cheiromancer

> The Binding of Graz’zt – an act accomplished by the Wizard Fillein and his cabal - over three hundred years previously, and a seminal example of cooperative magic. The Great Mage had drawn on the abilities of six other spellcasters of significant power.
> 
> Graz’zt was chained for fifty-five years. When he finally gained his freedom, he was irked to find that all but one of his former captors had already died.
> 
> Fillein himself had disappeared, and was never found.




It's from the Rape of Morne (link below)


----------



## abri

I started reading Heroic-fantasy when I was quite young and for quite a while felt the passion dwindling: all stories looked the same, the neding never were what I enjoyed...
But this story is just incredible: since you started the first post I've been checking from my lab every single day if there was an update. 
And every time there was one of those precious jewels we call update, my experiments would just have to wait:
" The nitrate reaction is overheating, red fumes are pouring from it. "
"I don't care it's Lady's Despina's time and it's sacred!"
Really glad you're going to be published.
Calling dibs on the autographed books


----------



## Avarice

What can I say that hasn't already been said?  Thank you, Sep.  I'm very glad to know that I will one day (in the hopefully not too distant future) be able to pay good money for this story!


----------



## Avarice

double post


----------



## Avarice

*insert words not meant to be heard by Eric's Grandma here*


----------



## Corwyn

Does anybody have a compiled document on all these threads?
And if there is one could the person who has it please mail it ? 

I would appreciate it.

And I agree whole heartedly !! This should be published.
Excellent writing as always Sep. !!


----------



## Avarice

Corwyn said:
			
		

> *Does anybody have a compiled document on all these threads?
> And if there is one could the person who has it please mail it ?
> 
> I would appreciate it.
> 
> And I agree whole heartedly !! This should be published.
> Excellent writing as always Sep. !! *





You've got mail, Corwyn.


----------



## Fimmtiu

*Question for Sep...*

So what was the personal sacrifice that Mostin and the other mages had to make when they bound the Infernal, anyhow? In game terms, that is.

Just curious. Wonderful conclusion! Bravo.


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Well, now we've reached some sort of closure with this part of the story, I think the time has come for me to ask for the collected edition, so I can read it all over again in one go...

so, mail me at ghost@funny.co.uk please!


----------



## Lela

Tallarn said:
			
		

> *Well, now we've reached some sort of closure with this part of the story, I think the time has come for me to ask for the collected edition, so I can read it all over again in one go...
> 
> *




He's right.  If someone wouldn't mind mailing me as well.


----------



## humble minion

*Re: Question for Sep...*



			
				Fimmtiu said:
			
		

> *So what was the personal sacrifice that Mostin and the other mages had to make when they bound the Infernal, anyhow? In game terms, that is.
> 
> Just curious. Wonderful conclusion! Bravo. *




Just guessing, but I'd say it was in two parts.  The 'backlash' would be hit point damage, as is a side-effect of some Epic spells.  The 'personal sacrifice' would be an XP cost, I'd imagine.


----------



## Thomas Hobbes

*Re: Question for Sep...*



			
				Fimmtiu said:
			
		

> *So what was the personal sacrifice that Mostin and the other mages had to make when they bound the Infernal, anyhow? In game terms, that is.*




Judging from the terminology used, I'd say this was an epic spell with both backlash (i.e, damage) and expierience point cost.  Like how one of the mages wasn't sure if he "had enough" personal power- you can't pay an XP cost if it'd knock you down a level.

Edit:  Beat me to it.  You'll pay for this insult, Minion.


----------



## Sollir Furryfoot

Edit-Thanks!


----------



## grodog

OK, the following folks' mailboxes have been bombarded:


whisper_the_tiefling@yahoo.com;
Yuppy_Scum@Yahoo.com;
ghost@funny.co.uk

I hope you each have large volume accounts 

EDIT:  You should receive 6 email messages with a total of 8 different files (5 .doc versions of the stories, 3 other files for the Mostin picture, Wyre map, and Infernal Hierarchy file).

If something didn't come through, let me (or someone else) know.


----------



## Zelda Themelin

This story is really great. I like your plots and I like your writing style.

And in D&D sense, it's really something rare to read about high level games, that are still working.

Sepulchrave, if you are going to publish this or something else in the future, I am surely going to get buy those books as long as I can find them.


grodog, would you send me those files as well, please?
e-mail is: zelda@dlc.fi


----------



## Lela

grodog said:
			
		

> *
> I hope you each have large volume accounts
> *




It was a close call (103% of limit) but I got everything.  Thanks.

Now to hit the Empty Trash button. . .


----------



## Darklone

Anyone cares to put money on the new incarnation of Fillein/Jovol ?


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Logged on to Yahoo today...

"You are using 98% of your inbox space! Click here to buy more inbox space!"

I was confused for a moment, until I saw these files nestling in my inbox...so THANKS!


----------



## grodog

Zelda Themelin said:
			
		

> grodog, would you send me those files as well, please?
> e-mail is: zelda@dlc.fi [/B]




Zelda and JERandall you have mail!

EDIT:  Lela and Tallarn, I'm glad to hear you got the goods OK, too


----------



## Corwyn

Grodog, may I have those aswell ?

j.md@wanadoo.nl

Thanks.


And thaks to you as wel Eric.


----------



## stuastro

I'll delurk long enough to ask if someone can send me those files too!

sc_whitehouse@hotmail.com

Thanks - and an excellent story hour!


----------



## RedAnt

If you've got a minute, I'll take one as well.  Thanks.

sole@earthlink.net


----------



## Wachman

Few things pull me out of my Lurker-dom but for this I needed to say

*WOW!*  

…and Thank you for sharing it with us. And as for that book thing, count me among those already lined up to buy.


----------



## grodog

OK, I just blasted out more copies to the following folks:


dtg125@psu.edu
j.md@wanadoo.nl
sc_whitehouse@hotmail.com
sole@earthlink.net

See my previous posts above about the number of emails, etc.


----------



## Dougal DeKree

*Hmmm...Grodog!*

Hey, sounds yummie...can i have a copy, too, please, sir? 

peter.scholl@t-systems.com

that would be nice...

Dougal


----------



## abri

*To grodog, messenger of the true story*

Could I have a copy too?
I need to print it and give a copy to ALL my players.
sumabri@aol.com 
Thanks a lot in advance.


----------



## William Ronald

I would also like a copy of the story.  Can you e-mail me at wronald1@yahoo.com?  This is a story I would like to share with my own gaming group.  (I wish I could get more of them to the boards, maybe this will do it.)

Thanks.


----------



## Trigo

grodog said:
			
		

> EDIT:  You should receive 6 email messages with a total of 8 different files (5 .doc versions of the stories, 3 other files for the Mostin picture, Wyre map, and Infernal Hierarchy file).




Please could you send me a copy of the map.
mframe50@hotmail.com

Many thanks.


----------



## zevon

*thank you, thank you, thank you*

I would be ecstatic if I too, could receive a copy of the story!

brianrockwell@excite.com


Thanks so much!


----------



## incognito

*wow  - I gues I would be a "me too"*

Dying for a copy:

incognito84404@hotmail.com


----------



## Lazybones

I was just thinking of rereading the Wyre saga, and now that I see that some exceptional folks have collected the entire story, I will add my pleas to the chorus:

km4101@netzero.net 

Thank you.


----------



## Wachman

Let me add my ME TOO! for a copy, please!

wachman@cbpu.com

Thank you


----------



## SeRiAlExPeRiMeNtS

grodog, can you please send it to me too?

bcosta@myrealbox.com


Thanx!


----------



## grodog

Just to be clear, folks, I'm just a compiler:  this is all the work of Sep, not me!

OK, here's the list of folks I'm blasting out copies to:


bcosta@myrealbox.com
wachman@cbpu.com
km4101@netzero.net
incognito84404@hotmail.com
brianrockwell@excite.com
wronald1@yahoo.com
peter.scholl@t-systems.com
mframe50@hotmail.com

mframe50@hotmail.com, you'll get the email with the misc. files only (including the map).

EDIT:  Sep, I think you need a secretary 

EDIT 2:  I received bounces for:


km4101@netzero.net
brianrockwell@excite.com
wachman@cbpu.com

Again, these emails are about 2.5 mb in total size....


----------



## William Ronald

Grodog,

Thanks for sending out the files.


----------



## Dougal DeKree

dito! i already used the mails to turn others into new addicts


----------



## incognito

*sweeeeeeeeeeeet!*

got  'em

Question - which attachment is the 'beginning?"  they all seem to be a continuation from one thing or another.

This is rape of Morne P2, but RofM part one is the the continuation of Heretic?


----------



## Vymair

It all starts with Lady's Despina's Virture, the Heretic of Wyre, then Rape of Morne.


----------



## Malachai_rose

/looks around nervously

tightens belt around upper arm while beginning to tap vein repeatedly...

lol, like any junkie the first step is to admit theres a problem. 

'Hi my names Dennis and I'm a Wyre junkie'   

/bad humor off


----------



## Gez

Maybe I should have asked on the thread too. All I got was some spam. Although not more than usually.

gez117@free.fr


----------



## Lazybones

grodog: 

I got 3-5, but parts 1-2 were probably what got bounced back. Damned cheap free email 

Lazy @ km4101@netzero.net


----------



## WisdomLikeSilence

*speechless*

WOW

Thank you very much, Sepulchrave, for giving me a story hour that, in addition to fabulous characters and imagery, actually made me think.

Your work is truly appreciated.  

-WLS


----------



## grodog

OK, I sent new ones to:


gez117@free.fr
jaults@Intellimark-IT.com
sgdonohue@mail.qinetiq.com

and resent missing files 1 & 2 to:


km4101@netzero.net
Wachman@cbpu.com

Enjoy


----------



## tleilaxu

i think it is funny when people say *speechless* and then type more  shouldn't it be:

begin post
*speechless*
end post


----------



## incognito

> It all starts with Lady's Despina's Virture, the Heretic of Wyre, then Rape of Morne.




Many thanks!


----------



## Capellan

Sep's started the new thread, folks.

http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=43542


----------



## grodog

Thanks Capellan!


----------



## Talix

Hopefully Grodog is still watching this thread despite the new beginnings...  I'd like a copy of the compilation as well, please.  And thank you for your efforts.  talixNOSPAM@warpmail.net.  Just remove the capitalized part.  

Has anyone ever found out whether Sep would mind it being hosted on a web page?  I'm randomly guessing he would, because he's publishing it, but on the other hand it's all available here for free, so I wasn't sure...

Yes, that means I'm volunteering my webspace if he's interested. 

And of course, just to be fair I have to add the This Storyhour Rocks part.


----------



## Drunknmonk

Any chance I could get a copy of the files grodog?  Thanks!

drunknmonk@attbi.com


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## Eridanis

Talix, drunknmonk -

It's on its way to you.


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## Dispater

Wow.  Wow.

I'm a bit of a lurker here but this is truly the greatest SH I've ever read.  It truly aspires to greatness. I would very much like a mail with the comiled stories - maldevian@msn.com

Many Thanks 

Dispater


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## grodog

Copies are en route to:


Warren.LaFrance@pms317.navy.mil
jaults@Intellimark-IT.com
maldevian@msn.com

Enjoy.  I probably won't be monitoring this thread much otherwise, so feel free to email me or to post in the new thread if you need copies.


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## dragoooon

Sep  I love the story what is the new thread called.


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## Lela

dragoooon said:
			
		

> *Sep  I love the story what is the new thread called. *




[Wyre] Book 2, Part 1


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## strawberryJAMM

Jeremy said:
			
		

> *What would you call it?*



"Lady Despina's Virtue" would be good, but that only covers just the very first part of the book.  I personally call the folder with all my compilation files in it "Tales of Wyre", but I don't suppose that's particularly compelling and "eye-grabbing" from the point of view of trying to sell a book. 

  I'm sure Sep has something in mind already, and I intend to buy a copy as soon as it hits the shelves (hardcover even!).


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