Another day in the Tavern

[Leenaria The Pixie]

She looks to the one who just spoke to her, "Well, I am always offering to lend a hand, even to those who are considered my opposite, if you know what I mean. This item is worth my life, it will save my life and keep me from dying. I am slowly dying within, my dreams haunt me and torture me past the point of pain. Somehow I was cursed, if I shall call it that... my nightmares cause me internal pain and wounds, some of which I cannot heal. I could benefit from your company if you helped me get the item I search for."

As he listens to her thoughs he hears those of sadness and pain. The sad from being alone far to long and the pain from of which she speaks, the dreams. However, it seems she pretty much speaks what she thinks.

 

[JasperDm]

*the ash-smudged mortif ponders a moment and speaks*

"My mastery of magic estends past funerary rites, aasimar, I can heal you, and alleviate your curse, though if it is too strong, my assistance will be temporary. I cannot yet call forth miracles or grant wishes with my power, but what I can do can at least dull the pain, if you so desire. Should you agree, I will lay hands upon you, and restore your flesh and mind, and do what I can to unweave the curse...Libram, what is her current state?"

*the book begins to speak again, words of power, and spells slice forth from it, like a spray of grey mist, and the aasimar is drenched in magic*"Let us see what we can see..."

(Deathwatch, detect magic, detect undead, and status to be exact...)

 

[Leenaria The Pixie]

The book could tell that what she has is a curse, a very powerful one that rarely lets the being in which it is placed upon live. It is hard to say how long she has as the curse affects people differently, some living most of their life and others only a few years within receiving it. This was placed on her, probably by a might lich, demon, devil, or corupt wizard.


Elona looks at Seth and waits patiently for his answer, hoping he might alleviate her a little, if he can't do anything for her directly.

 

[JasperDm]

"Sit down." The mortif draws from his cloak a symbol, done in steel, a strange, stylized skull, and clasps it in his left hand. "I will do what I can. Libram, report."

"Well, Seth, it appears the curse's progenitor is rather powerful, possibly even a demon or lichform, sufficed to say, it borders on the impossible to weave a spell that tightly. Clearly a master. I would recommend starting with a curse removal spell, followed by a Great Healing, or perhaps a Great Restoration if you're feeling cautious. If all else fails, you might risk dispelling it, but it's unlikely you'll succeed."

"Very well. Elona, I will begin by analyzing the curse, and determining whether I have the power to completely break it. If not, I will attempt to subdue it, and administer magics to restore your flesh and mind. It will probably return, in that case, but with continued treatment, I should be able to stave off the damage long enough for you to find what you seek.

"If you are ready for me to begin, please say so."

*he begins sorting out material components, and cleaning off the strange holy symbol*

 

[Xavim]

"Hmm, a demon eh? Perhaps I can be of assistence here. I have a cirtain prestige in that regard. But first I need to see what we're dealing with. Maybe combining our powers we can eliminate this thing."

Turning towards the woman he stands upon the chair to bring himself to her height and holds forth his arms, placing his hands to either side of her head. Then, closing his eyes he concentrates, a low hum filling the room as power swirls and gathers around him.

Reaching deep into her mind he searches for the identity of the originator, searching for both type and magical prestige aswell as more specifics as to the nature of the curse's design. All the while thinking that perhaps the power of one fiend can undue that of another.

 

[Lord Tarran]

A howl emantes from the front door, as everyone heads turn to see a large, bear sized silver wolf, with bright blue eyes. Soon, with several sickening crunches, the wolf turns into a young man, blond hair just starting to gray at the ends, with the same piercing eyes. Simple, cotton clothes spring around his body, soon making him appear to be a simple farmer. If you ignore the kukri dagger at his hip.
With a glance at the tiefling, a very asking gaze that said to that he wished to speak, the werewolf sat down.

Hey, (he says to the golem nearby) do you have any moonblood? I'm fresh out. And I need a scroll of distant talking if anyone has one. The werewolf I left in my place to guard my hometown might need a little help.

With that he sits back, content, sipping on the procured moonblood. The silvery liquid slips through his lips like mercury, his glistening fangs catching the eye of the Archmage (if he hadn't teleported out yet.)

You, good sir, do you have a scroll of sending?

 

[Leenaria The Pixie]

Cora was about to answer Seth until the tiefling stood up next to her and she looked to him.

As he searches through her mind to find out more about the curse he soon finds that it was cast by a great lich named Sarran. It was placed on her at least a hundred years ago. Its a rare known evil spell called, Dream Curse, which when the target falls asleep at night they feel a small tingling sensation that will wake them. At the same it eats at their inside a bit at a time or for the weak it eats off chunks at a time. Each dream bringing them closer to their own death, giving them dreams of unspeakable and horrifying dreams.

Cora looks to the door and watches the wolf turned into a boy and looked to the tiefling. Her blue sapphire eyes seem to study down to his soul and then looks away.

She turned to the tiefling, "Did you find anything or what you were looking for at least?" Her voice still the same that sounds like that of an angel.

 

[Lord Tarran]

Tarran shivers, feeling the cold mind probe that just passed through the aasimar. He stands, recently done with his moonblood, leaving the wizard to his book.

"Are you okay my dear lady? You look shaken. I smell fear about you, as if something plagues your mind. Is there anyway I may help you? I have traveled far, and I have much knowledge of this world."

He tries as hard as he can to hide his fang, but realizes that the angel descendant would have already seen his transformation out of wolf form.

 

[Leenaria The Pixie]

She looks to the boy, "No, I am not alright... I fear I am slowly dying of curse placed upon me. These two," she nods to Seth and the tiefling, "are trying to help me."

 

[Lord Tarran]

My dear, these two stink of the darkness. No offense boys. Any method they could come up with, though it might work, would probably harm you, as a being of inherent goodness.

He takes out his dagger, looks at the blade for a moment, and taps it sharply with a knuckle. You watch as the blade becomes a flute. He begins to play a low mournful melody, that continues quickly. Soon, it seems that two flutes are playing, dueling, as the air around him becomes more combative. His song comes to a abrupt stop, as his flute explodes, and he falls down, dazed. Another dagger appears at his hip as he stands, shaking his head, as if water were in his ears.

Damn, that is one powerful curse. I blasted it with every song spell I had, but the lich on the other hand is a mean song mage. How are you feeling? Before my flute exploded, I felt his go too. I'm not sure who won.

He shakes his head again, before collasping where the tiefling had sat down, looking very weary.