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The Thorns of Winter -(updated 8/1/2023)
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<blockquote data-quote="Nthal" data-source="post: 8653734" data-attributes="member: 6971069"><p><h2 style="text-align: center">Twisted Mirth - 6/2/2022</h2><p></p><p></p><p>We stood several paces away from the mouth of the cave, each looking at the other. The shadow appeared to shrug, and moved back into the cave, the red fire light spilling into the gorge as it casually mocked us, “Come, come, harming you now would be missing the point of inviting you. And I have invited no one else before.”</p><p></p><p>This did nothing to make us feel at ease, but finally Sage shrugged and stepped forward, and the rest of us fell in line behind the juggernaut. As he crossed the threshold of the cave, one of the banderhobbs belched, causing myself and Rosa to jump at the noise.</p><p></p><p>“Fen and Garry won’t bother you; they will keep others away. Go boys!” and the pair just bounded out of gorge, back down the path we took. The hag continued, “Ah…you sent ‘The Guardian’ in first. Wise to show your obvious fear; makes things easier that way, ah ‘The Vigilante’, ‘The Spy’, ‘The Balm’, ‘The hunter’, ‘The One with regrets’ , and—” I just stepped into the cave, in time for her to look at me and say ‘The Prodigal One’ and as she did my breath quickened at the sight of our fears, and I realized we were serious trouble.</p><p></p><p>Hags. There are many kinds of these fey I am told, each commanding strange magics and stranger knowledge, best left forgotten. But they existed as twisted mockeries of the fey, valuing ugliness in place of beauty. But as evil and malicious any one could be, there was always the worst possibility, and Twisted Mirth was one of these.</p><p></p><p>She stood over a cauldron, poking its contents with a rod coated in layers of dried something, so thick, that the rod’s true shape was lost under it. But she was taller than even Sage, and she looked down at him and the rest of us with coal black eyes. Her hair was shock of frizzle, streaked with blacks and purples. Her skin was the color of purples and blues, deeply lined, and covered with boils and warts, each with wiry hair sticking out of them. Twisted Mirth’s face was contorted into sneering smile, her hook like nose flaring as she looked us over, and she turned her head, there buried in the mess of hair were curled horns. And as I looked at that visage, chills ran up and down my spine and my heart quickened. Everything in my gut was telling me to bolt, while the only thing running through my head was that it was too late.</p><p></p><p>She was a night hag, the strongest and most dangerous member of that sisterhood. Where I came from, they had travelled the planes until they reached The Gray Wastes and either it corrupted them or they took what they wanted from it. Master manipulators and crafty merchants, selling power, dreams, or souls. The only one I knew of, was one all Sigilites knew, and that was Ravel Puzzlewell, and she was so brazen and powerful that the Lady of Pain mazed her. But that was the Lady of Pain’s home, and locus of power; here we were in Twisted Mirth’s.</p><p></p><p>She clearly relished our discomfort and chuckled, “Such fears you wear on your sleeves,” she said slowly with a twisted smile, “And eyes empty of anything of real importance. I shall have to teach you all the true matter of things.” Then she sped up her cadence with a glare, “like you have any time all left,” before calming herself down. “Come make yourself…comfortable.”</p><p></p><p>I finally tore my eyes away and looked around the cavern. Shelves were scattered along the walls, the planks held up by skeletal hands, jutting from the rock. On some were librams, jars, and small pouches, sacks, and boxes. From the ceiling too more skeletal hands held the ends of ropes or perhaps dead vines, each ending in a cage, or a flask, or other strange objects twisting in the air. In one corner was a mirror of brass, tarnished and soiled so no reflection could be seen clearly. On another end, stood a workbench with random cutting tools scattered on the top, and a chest underneath. On another end of the room was a large chair, upholstered in some type of scaly leather and covered in dust. Next to it with a small table and glasses with only a single lens. The hag snapped her fingers, and I then realized, she wasn’t alone.</p><p></p><p>The first figure was a man, who walked on hands and knees. He was clad in a grimy smock, and his long, dank hair covered his face, so his features were concealed. He scrambled to the other side of the small table and waited on all fours, steeling himself and trembling. Twisted Mirth wasted no time sitting on his back, wiggling her posterior on him as if she was getting comfortable. The man groaned and said nothing,</p><p></p><p>The second figure was a filthy woman. She was nestled between two shelves, her dirt caked arms grasping her knees. But at the snap of Twisted Mirth’s fingers, she stood. Her hair color was difficult to identify, as it too was caked in mud and grime. From beneath it you could just make out the pointed tips of a half-elf’s ears. Her face was finely structured, with high cheekbones, a narrow nose, a small, dimpled chin, and bloodshot, watery eyes that communicated misery. She moved to a chest in the under the workbench in desperate haste, and opened it, pulling out a tray. She set it on the bench, and then pulled out an assortment of mismatched dirty mugs. She stood there and looked at the mugs and waited.</p><p></p><p>Twisted Mirth, pulled out from a pouch a small, dried fruit and crushed it into dust that drifted down from her hands. Once she did, there was the sound of bubbling from the mugs, and the woman took the tray and with eyes down, presented the tray to Rosa.</p><p></p><p>Twisted Mirth smiled and spoke that sweet grandmother like voice, “You must be parched after your long walk here.” She then looked at us all and waved her hand nonchalantly, “The drink is perfectly safe, a fine wine from another age in fact. I have nothing to gain by harming you. In fact, that is the last thing I wish to do.”</p><p></p><p>Rosa took the mug and stared at the contents and took a quick whiff of its contents. She frowned and shook her head before speaking, “Ah…we appreciate your hospitality…uh aunty Twi—”</p><p></p><p>“—Grandmother is the appropriate title. So cultured and mannered,” she said smiling, before quickening her cadence to mock us, “unlike the rest of you ready to soil your small clothes.” She then sighed and nodded for Rosa to continue.</p><p></p><p>Rosa gulped as did I. She knew as much as I did, that hags had a pecking order among themselves, and in that order a grandmother was the top. But she recovered and continued, “Grandmother Twisted Mirth, we only came because of a text your…fine servants recently…borrowed from the Cannith library. So, if we could just—”</p><p></p><p>Twisted Mirth shook her head and pulled out a whistle made of a bone. It shrieked a hideous sound for a moment before she put it away. From outside a banderhobb flapped inside and stood in front of Rosa. With ease, it quickly spat out the book at Rosa’s feet, covered in slime and bile, before it scampered back out of the cave. I moved to Rosa and knelt down and pulled on a strand to see if I clean away the mess, as Twisted Mirth spoke again.</p><p></p><p>“And there it is. However,” she said with a vicious smile, “the gnome that wrote it was arrogant, insufferable and plain wrong about so many things. Everyone that has read it recently had to sift through it to find small grains of knowledge. But I…I know the truth behind what he found, and its importance. Otherwise, keep the thing; it has no value to me. You…do however.”</p><p></p><p>The girl presented the tray to me, and I took a mug, not even glancing at the contents. I was not going to drink it, but I didn’t want to be rude to whatever passed for manners to a hag, when Sage spoke, “What exactly is the price.”</p><p></p><p>Twisted Mirth looked at the juggernaut with a twinkle in her eye. “For this…nothing. The deal I wish make we discuss a little later. But for now, it amuses me to subvert your opponents and tell things that are hidden, and the stakes at play.</p><p></p><p>The girl moved to Bookshelf with her tray, and the hag continued. “You found the node in the mountains, and you know clearly it is not a Dhakaani construct. It is as you surmised something far older. It is also only a small part of a great…machine.”</p><p></p><p>“A machine?” Sage asked, as the girl made her way to the warforged. “What does it do?”</p><p></p><p>Twisted Mirth smiled, “I know that it draws power from the planes around Eberron, each node a different plane. As to what it does? Well…in part, turn spring to deepest winter, clouds and storms, and walls of thorns obviously.” I stopped cleaning the book and looked at the others as each one took this information in. “It can remake the world with either the greatest precision or the most brutal ways. Its creator invested much of itself into the machine, and it was a great source of pride to them. As to who it was…you would refer them as an overlord of ancient times. One of many now bound in prisons around the world. That one was known as Mat’astalan, the Shaper.”</p><p></p><p>The girl had moved to Bookshelf and handed him a mug as Rosa spoke again, “An overlord…from the Age of Demons, bound away by the Gatekeepers.”</p><p></p><p>Twisted Mirth snorted, “Hardly. The Gatekeepers maintain the seals, but it was not they that bound them. Matters not, Mat’astalan was bound, and they took the easiest path to do this. They bound him into his own machine.” Rosa’s eyes grew wide. “And yes…as they turn the machines node back on and empower it; his one chance of freedom approaches.”</p><p></p><p>“Why would Moragon do this?” Bookshelf asked confused. “I do not see how a druid would side with an overlord.”</p><p></p><p>“I agree, it doesn’t make sense,” Rosa concurred, “Even for the Children of Winter—”</p><p></p><p>“Unless he doesn’t know,” Doxx said simply. “Moragon has been manipulated.”</p><p></p><p>Twisted Mirth giggled, “Right you are. He doesn’t know. He found a machine, thinks he knows how to control it, but he doesn’t realize the true risk. It is written nowhere but…here,” Twisted Mirth tapped her temple with a dirty talon like finger.</p><p></p><p>“And how do you know?” Bookshelf asked.</p><p></p><p>The girl moved to Doxx, who without a though took a mug, “Because my silly warforged, I was there when he built it, used it, and watched them become bound into its coils.” I looked at her and wondered, how long ago this was. I had to remind myself that she was an immortal, and immortal motivations were far far different than our own. Which made me wonder what was driving her here. “Shame too; Mat never got to use it at full strength. That would have annoyed the other overlords, and they did try to get along…most of the time.”</p><p></p><p>“So, who’s manipulating Moragon?” The Blade pressed, after being offered a mug from the girl. He took it, and with a quick motion, placed it back on the workbench.</p><p></p><p>Twisted Mirth’s face turned from amusement to one black with rage. She gnashed her teeth and said between gritted teeth, “I…I made a bargain under duress. And one point is that I cannot divulge who they are, nor confirm who they aren’t. But it is one of Mat’s loyal servants, one of the members of the Lords of Dust, and Mat’astalan’s speaker. And they have been manipulating many people, as is their opposition.”</p><p></p><p>“Why all the subterfuge then?” I asked. “If it was a matter of turning on the machine, that should have been possible a long time ago. Shouldn’t it?”</p><p></p><p>Twisted Mirth shook her head, “It isn’t enough to just turn it on. The right people at the right time are required, to allow the seal binding Mat’astalan to crack. So, the interested parties have been searching the world for parts of the Prophecy to ensure those right things happen…or not happen as the case may be.</p><p></p><p>“Prophecy?” I asked looking at the others, and it was Rosa that was rubbing her eyes, trying to relieve a headache.</p><p></p><p>“The Draconic Prophecy,” she said in a tired voice. “It is a living prophecy, written in the bones of Eberron in far away places. Its…huge. So huge that no one person knows it all, and it keeps—”</p><p></p><p>The girl moved to Adrissa with the final mug, and tripped, causing the mug to spill on the floor, and the girl to fall flat on her face. She quickly sat up and looked at the hag in utter horror, both of her hands covering her mouth.</p><p></p><p>“Snave…” Twisted Mirth said her head shaking in disappointment, yet a cruel gleam was visible in her eyes. From outside, the executioner raven, flew in and alighted on a shelf, along a row of glass jars. It then quickly dipped its beak into one and pulled out what appeared to be a twitching slug. But I then realized it was something else entirely, a tongue.</p><p></p><p>The raven hopped over to another open flask and then dropped the quivering tongue within. As I heard the sound of a plop into liquid, the girl reacted. She lay on the floor and thrashed, kicking and beating the floor with her hands. Veins stood out in her arms and neck as her body contorted. But the one thing she did not do, was make a sound. Whatever pain she felt was done in utter silence.</p><p></p><p>Everyone had something on their faces at the sight of this, disgust, horror, sympathy fear. Only the warforged gave no clear expression on their faces, but I could hear Sage tighten his grip on his shield. Bookshelf was however a mystery, saying nothing and doing nothing. But I couldn’t just let it happen, and so I turned to face Twisted Mirth and smiled, “Please; I’m not sure what she has done to warrant this, but it is…” my mind raced to find a polite way to save the girl from the silent pain she was enduring. “…distracting us from you telling us things you want us to know.”</p><p></p><p>The hag grinned, “How nice to think of <strong><em>me</em></strong> at time like this. And here I thought you might care for her. Or him,” as she pointed to her living stool, who’s face was contorted in pain from holding up the hag on his back. She nodded to the raven, and it picked up the tongue and dropped it back in the jar it was found in, which caused the girl to stop contorting and twisting on the ground. She instead lay on her back, her eyes full of as she looked at me with sorrowful expression. “Each of them, not just broke a deal, but tried to cheat me. So, thirteen years and a day a servant to me is the penalty. And she’s so close to the end as well. But please…continue Rosa.”</p><p></p><p>Rosa shuddered and tore her gaze away from the woman lying on the floor, panting in silence, “It changes over time, as certain circumstances are met. Its complicated and the only three groups of beings can really understand its vast permutations I am told. The Aerenal elves, the Lords of Dust, and dragons.”</p><p></p><p>“All true,” Twisted Mirth giggled. “But here we are, near the very end of this particular one. It is only now that it is almost possible to break the overlord free, and only if certain things are accomplished. This is the end game for Mat’astalan’s freedom, or continued imprisonment. And you. All of you, are pawns in this.</p><p></p><p>“I can’t see how it could be us though,” Doxx said frowning. “At the risk of being rude, I would say you have a vested interest in the outcome.”</p><p></p><p>Twisted Mirth leaned back and howled in laughter, a cold cruel screech that you could feel scraping along your bones. She settled down, and stifled her own laughter and seem to quote something from memory:</p><p></p><p>"’A gathering of interests seven. Two new men; one a guard forgotten, another a flesh peddler. A sharp one of the giant's folly hiding in the darkness. Two children of the Traveler; one serves a king, the other honors the dead of the marked house of health. Finally, two children of loss, one near and one far.’</p><p></p><p>Twisted Mirth looked at Doxx smiling, “Certainly sounds like you. But are correct, I have a vested interest here. Because what I want is something so pure and simple that even you,” and she pointed at Doxx who glowered in response, “Could understand it. Revenge and humiliation for the one who dared to hold a bargain over my head. So, I want you to succeed and keep the overlord in his prison.”</p><p></p><p>I was confused at first. A fiend that didn’t want a ruler of fiends to be free? But the more I thought about it, Twisted Mirth wasn’t beholden to this overlord. And if the politics of the Lords of Dust was anything like the Abyss, that short term deals, betrayal and self-interest were the norm.</p><p></p><p>“So, we’re your pawns then.” I stated evenly.</p><p></p><p>“Almost,” the hag said slyly. “Your ultimate success or failure is your problem, not mine. I can work with either outcome. But Mat’astalan’s speaker? They can lose. They <strong><em>must</em></strong> lose personally. So, while that could result in Mat’astalan being freed, it is more likely they will not.” The night hag gave a crooked smile, “So you might say I have a vested interest in your success.”</p><p></p><p>“So, what is the deal you want to make?” I asked.</p><p></p><p>“So, I wish to give you two things. The first thing is knowledge on how to operate the machine. Because as far I as am aware, only I and Mat’s speaker know how to operate it.”</p><p></p><p>“That will not help us much,” Bookshelf said. “We would need a key. And that druid, Tracia smashed the only one we knew of. We had hoped the book would have some information about it.”</p><p></p><p>“Ah…the book knew of two keys; the lesser and the greater,” Twisted Mirth said knowingly. “And sadly, Moragon has the only greater key that remains.” I heard several others give a heavy sigh, but I didn’t. And I was right in my suspicious as the hag continued, “But that stupid insipid gnome knew nothing about the <em>master</em> key.”</p><p></p><p>“So what?” Doxx retorted. “Unless you have it what good does knowing—” and Doxx looked at the hag, whose smile grew wider as he spoke.</p><p></p><p>“You have it,” The Blade said.</p><p></p><p>“Most of it,” Twisted Mirth corrected. “And I know exactly where the two pieces are to complete it. I will finish it and give it to you to use…as you will.”</p><p></p><p>“And what do you want exactly?” I asked.</p><p></p><p>The hag cackled “Simply you find the Speaker and remove them from the board. Nothing more, and it as close to an even exchange that you will ever get from another auntie.”</p><p></p><p>“You will set your two slaves free,” Adrissa said quietly. She had been silent throughout the discussion.</p><p></p><p>Twisted Mirth looked at the girl with an expression between surprise and amusement. “How adorable; trying to bargain…” the hag rubbed her chin and after a moment shrugged. “Why not? You may have them.”</p><p></p><p>The man serving as Twisted Mirth’s seat, twisted his head to look at Adrissa with tears in his eyes, as he continued to struggle to hold Twisted Mirth’s bulk. The woman however, propped herself and looked at Adrissa with shock, shaking her head in what I guessed was disbelief.</p><p></p><p>“So…how do we do this?” Doxx asked, “Spit? Blood oaths?”</p><p></p><p>Twisted Mirth stood up shaking her head. “Such perverted bargains come later,” to which Doxx shuddered for a moment at an unbidden thought. “For me to make such a bargain, I need you complete a task for me. Or rather two tasks.”</p><p></p><p><strong>Session Notes:</strong></p><p>Twisted Mirth is not a nice hag. At all. And yes there is/was a lot of exposition here, but it leads to excitement I swear.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nthal, post: 8653734, member: 6971069"] [HEADING=1][CENTER]Twisted Mirth - 6/2/2022[/CENTER][/HEADING] We stood several paces away from the mouth of the cave, each looking at the other. The shadow appeared to shrug, and moved back into the cave, the red fire light spilling into the gorge as it casually mocked us, “Come, come, harming you now would be missing the point of inviting you. And I have invited no one else before.” This did nothing to make us feel at ease, but finally Sage shrugged and stepped forward, and the rest of us fell in line behind the juggernaut. As he crossed the threshold of the cave, one of the banderhobbs belched, causing myself and Rosa to jump at the noise. “Fen and Garry won’t bother you; they will keep others away. Go boys!” and the pair just bounded out of gorge, back down the path we took. The hag continued, “Ah…you sent ‘The Guardian’ in first. Wise to show your obvious fear; makes things easier that way, ah ‘The Vigilante’, ‘The Spy’, ‘The Balm’, ‘The hunter’, ‘The One with regrets’ , and—” I just stepped into the cave, in time for her to look at me and say ‘The Prodigal One’ and as she did my breath quickened at the sight of our fears, and I realized we were serious trouble. Hags. There are many kinds of these fey I am told, each commanding strange magics and stranger knowledge, best left forgotten. But they existed as twisted mockeries of the fey, valuing ugliness in place of beauty. But as evil and malicious any one could be, there was always the worst possibility, and Twisted Mirth was one of these. She stood over a cauldron, poking its contents with a rod coated in layers of dried something, so thick, that the rod’s true shape was lost under it. But she was taller than even Sage, and she looked down at him and the rest of us with coal black eyes. Her hair was shock of frizzle, streaked with blacks and purples. Her skin was the color of purples and blues, deeply lined, and covered with boils and warts, each with wiry hair sticking out of them. Twisted Mirth’s face was contorted into sneering smile, her hook like nose flaring as she looked us over, and she turned her head, there buried in the mess of hair were curled horns. And as I looked at that visage, chills ran up and down my spine and my heart quickened. Everything in my gut was telling me to bolt, while the only thing running through my head was that it was too late. She was a night hag, the strongest and most dangerous member of that sisterhood. Where I came from, they had travelled the planes until they reached The Gray Wastes and either it corrupted them or they took what they wanted from it. Master manipulators and crafty merchants, selling power, dreams, or souls. The only one I knew of, was one all Sigilites knew, and that was Ravel Puzzlewell, and she was so brazen and powerful that the Lady of Pain mazed her. But that was the Lady of Pain’s home, and locus of power; here we were in Twisted Mirth’s. She clearly relished our discomfort and chuckled, “Such fears you wear on your sleeves,” she said slowly with a twisted smile, “And eyes empty of anything of real importance. I shall have to teach you all the true matter of things.” Then she sped up her cadence with a glare, “like you have any time all left,” before calming herself down. “Come make yourself…comfortable.” I finally tore my eyes away and looked around the cavern. Shelves were scattered along the walls, the planks held up by skeletal hands, jutting from the rock. On some were librams, jars, and small pouches, sacks, and boxes. From the ceiling too more skeletal hands held the ends of ropes or perhaps dead vines, each ending in a cage, or a flask, or other strange objects twisting in the air. In one corner was a mirror of brass, tarnished and soiled so no reflection could be seen clearly. On another end, stood a workbench with random cutting tools scattered on the top, and a chest underneath. On another end of the room was a large chair, upholstered in some type of scaly leather and covered in dust. Next to it with a small table and glasses with only a single lens. The hag snapped her fingers, and I then realized, she wasn’t alone. The first figure was a man, who walked on hands and knees. He was clad in a grimy smock, and his long, dank hair covered his face, so his features were concealed. He scrambled to the other side of the small table and waited on all fours, steeling himself and trembling. Twisted Mirth wasted no time sitting on his back, wiggling her posterior on him as if she was getting comfortable. The man groaned and said nothing, The second figure was a filthy woman. She was nestled between two shelves, her dirt caked arms grasping her knees. But at the snap of Twisted Mirth’s fingers, she stood. Her hair color was difficult to identify, as it too was caked in mud and grime. From beneath it you could just make out the pointed tips of a half-elf’s ears. Her face was finely structured, with high cheekbones, a narrow nose, a small, dimpled chin, and bloodshot, watery eyes that communicated misery. She moved to a chest in the under the workbench in desperate haste, and opened it, pulling out a tray. She set it on the bench, and then pulled out an assortment of mismatched dirty mugs. She stood there and looked at the mugs and waited. Twisted Mirth, pulled out from a pouch a small, dried fruit and crushed it into dust that drifted down from her hands. Once she did, there was the sound of bubbling from the mugs, and the woman took the tray and with eyes down, presented the tray to Rosa. Twisted Mirth smiled and spoke that sweet grandmother like voice, “You must be parched after your long walk here.” She then looked at us all and waved her hand nonchalantly, “The drink is perfectly safe, a fine wine from another age in fact. I have nothing to gain by harming you. In fact, that is the last thing I wish to do.” Rosa took the mug and stared at the contents and took a quick whiff of its contents. She frowned and shook her head before speaking, “Ah…we appreciate your hospitality…uh aunty Twi—” “—Grandmother is the appropriate title. So cultured and mannered,” she said smiling, before quickening her cadence to mock us, “unlike the rest of you ready to soil your small clothes.” She then sighed and nodded for Rosa to continue. Rosa gulped as did I. She knew as much as I did, that hags had a pecking order among themselves, and in that order a grandmother was the top. But she recovered and continued, “Grandmother Twisted Mirth, we only came because of a text your…fine servants recently…borrowed from the Cannith library. So, if we could just—” Twisted Mirth shook her head and pulled out a whistle made of a bone. It shrieked a hideous sound for a moment before she put it away. From outside a banderhobb flapped inside and stood in front of Rosa. With ease, it quickly spat out the book at Rosa’s feet, covered in slime and bile, before it scampered back out of the cave. I moved to Rosa and knelt down and pulled on a strand to see if I clean away the mess, as Twisted Mirth spoke again. “And there it is. However,” she said with a vicious smile, “the gnome that wrote it was arrogant, insufferable and plain wrong about so many things. Everyone that has read it recently had to sift through it to find small grains of knowledge. But I…I know the truth behind what he found, and its importance. Otherwise, keep the thing; it has no value to me. You…do however.” The girl presented the tray to me, and I took a mug, not even glancing at the contents. I was not going to drink it, but I didn’t want to be rude to whatever passed for manners to a hag, when Sage spoke, “What exactly is the price.” Twisted Mirth looked at the juggernaut with a twinkle in her eye. “For this…nothing. The deal I wish make we discuss a little later. But for now, it amuses me to subvert your opponents and tell things that are hidden, and the stakes at play. The girl moved to Bookshelf with her tray, and the hag continued. “You found the node in the mountains, and you know clearly it is not a Dhakaani construct. It is as you surmised something far older. It is also only a small part of a great…machine.” “A machine?” Sage asked, as the girl made her way to the warforged. “What does it do?” Twisted Mirth smiled, “I know that it draws power from the planes around Eberron, each node a different plane. As to what it does? Well…in part, turn spring to deepest winter, clouds and storms, and walls of thorns obviously.” I stopped cleaning the book and looked at the others as each one took this information in. “It can remake the world with either the greatest precision or the most brutal ways. Its creator invested much of itself into the machine, and it was a great source of pride to them. As to who it was…you would refer them as an overlord of ancient times. One of many now bound in prisons around the world. That one was known as Mat’astalan, the Shaper.” The girl had moved to Bookshelf and handed him a mug as Rosa spoke again, “An overlord…from the Age of Demons, bound away by the Gatekeepers.” Twisted Mirth snorted, “Hardly. The Gatekeepers maintain the seals, but it was not they that bound them. Matters not, Mat’astalan was bound, and they took the easiest path to do this. They bound him into his own machine.” Rosa’s eyes grew wide. “And yes…as they turn the machines node back on and empower it; his one chance of freedom approaches.” “Why would Moragon do this?” Bookshelf asked confused. “I do not see how a druid would side with an overlord.” “I agree, it doesn’t make sense,” Rosa concurred, “Even for the Children of Winter—” “Unless he doesn’t know,” Doxx said simply. “Moragon has been manipulated.” Twisted Mirth giggled, “Right you are. He doesn’t know. He found a machine, thinks he knows how to control it, but he doesn’t realize the true risk. It is written nowhere but…here,” Twisted Mirth tapped her temple with a dirty talon like finger. “And how do you know?” Bookshelf asked. The girl moved to Doxx, who without a though took a mug, “Because my silly warforged, I was there when he built it, used it, and watched them become bound into its coils.” I looked at her and wondered, how long ago this was. I had to remind myself that she was an immortal, and immortal motivations were far far different than our own. Which made me wonder what was driving her here. “Shame too; Mat never got to use it at full strength. That would have annoyed the other overlords, and they did try to get along…most of the time.” “So, who’s manipulating Moragon?” The Blade pressed, after being offered a mug from the girl. He took it, and with a quick motion, placed it back on the workbench. Twisted Mirth’s face turned from amusement to one black with rage. She gnashed her teeth and said between gritted teeth, “I…I made a bargain under duress. And one point is that I cannot divulge who they are, nor confirm who they aren’t. But it is one of Mat’s loyal servants, one of the members of the Lords of Dust, and Mat’astalan’s speaker. And they have been manipulating many people, as is their opposition.” “Why all the subterfuge then?” I asked. “If it was a matter of turning on the machine, that should have been possible a long time ago. Shouldn’t it?” Twisted Mirth shook her head, “It isn’t enough to just turn it on. The right people at the right time are required, to allow the seal binding Mat’astalan to crack. So, the interested parties have been searching the world for parts of the Prophecy to ensure those right things happen…or not happen as the case may be. “Prophecy?” I asked looking at the others, and it was Rosa that was rubbing her eyes, trying to relieve a headache. “The Draconic Prophecy,” she said in a tired voice. “It is a living prophecy, written in the bones of Eberron in far away places. Its…huge. So huge that no one person knows it all, and it keeps—” The girl moved to Adrissa with the final mug, and tripped, causing the mug to spill on the floor, and the girl to fall flat on her face. She quickly sat up and looked at the hag in utter horror, both of her hands covering her mouth. “Snave…” Twisted Mirth said her head shaking in disappointment, yet a cruel gleam was visible in her eyes. From outside, the executioner raven, flew in and alighted on a shelf, along a row of glass jars. It then quickly dipped its beak into one and pulled out what appeared to be a twitching slug. But I then realized it was something else entirely, a tongue. The raven hopped over to another open flask and then dropped the quivering tongue within. As I heard the sound of a plop into liquid, the girl reacted. She lay on the floor and thrashed, kicking and beating the floor with her hands. Veins stood out in her arms and neck as her body contorted. But the one thing she did not do, was make a sound. Whatever pain she felt was done in utter silence. Everyone had something on their faces at the sight of this, disgust, horror, sympathy fear. Only the warforged gave no clear expression on their faces, but I could hear Sage tighten his grip on his shield. Bookshelf was however a mystery, saying nothing and doing nothing. But I couldn’t just let it happen, and so I turned to face Twisted Mirth and smiled, “Please; I’m not sure what she has done to warrant this, but it is…” my mind raced to find a polite way to save the girl from the silent pain she was enduring. “…distracting us from you telling us things you want us to know.” The hag grinned, “How nice to think of [B][I]me[/I][/B] at time like this. And here I thought you might care for her. Or him,” as she pointed to her living stool, who’s face was contorted in pain from holding up the hag on his back. She nodded to the raven, and it picked up the tongue and dropped it back in the jar it was found in, which caused the girl to stop contorting and twisting on the ground. She instead lay on her back, her eyes full of as she looked at me with sorrowful expression. “Each of them, not just broke a deal, but tried to cheat me. So, thirteen years and a day a servant to me is the penalty. And she’s so close to the end as well. But please…continue Rosa.” Rosa shuddered and tore her gaze away from the woman lying on the floor, panting in silence, “It changes over time, as certain circumstances are met. Its complicated and the only three groups of beings can really understand its vast permutations I am told. The Aerenal elves, the Lords of Dust, and dragons.” “All true,” Twisted Mirth giggled. “But here we are, near the very end of this particular one. It is only now that it is almost possible to break the overlord free, and only if certain things are accomplished. This is the end game for Mat’astalan’s freedom, or continued imprisonment. And you. All of you, are pawns in this. “I can’t see how it could be us though,” Doxx said frowning. “At the risk of being rude, I would say you have a vested interest in the outcome.” Twisted Mirth leaned back and howled in laughter, a cold cruel screech that you could feel scraping along your bones. She settled down, and stifled her own laughter and seem to quote something from memory: "’A gathering of interests seven. Two new men; one a guard forgotten, another a flesh peddler. A sharp one of the giant's folly hiding in the darkness. Two children of the Traveler; one serves a king, the other honors the dead of the marked house of health. Finally, two children of loss, one near and one far.’ Twisted Mirth looked at Doxx smiling, “Certainly sounds like you. But are correct, I have a vested interest here. Because what I want is something so pure and simple that even you,” and she pointed at Doxx who glowered in response, “Could understand it. Revenge and humiliation for the one who dared to hold a bargain over my head. So, I want you to succeed and keep the overlord in his prison.” I was confused at first. A fiend that didn’t want a ruler of fiends to be free? But the more I thought about it, Twisted Mirth wasn’t beholden to this overlord. And if the politics of the Lords of Dust was anything like the Abyss, that short term deals, betrayal and self-interest were the norm. “So, we’re your pawns then.” I stated evenly. “Almost,” the hag said slyly. “Your ultimate success or failure is your problem, not mine. I can work with either outcome. But Mat’astalan’s speaker? They can lose. They [B][I]must[/I][/B] lose personally. So, while that could result in Mat’astalan being freed, it is more likely they will not.” The night hag gave a crooked smile, “So you might say I have a vested interest in your success.” “So, what is the deal you want to make?” I asked. “So, I wish to give you two things. The first thing is knowledge on how to operate the machine. Because as far I as am aware, only I and Mat’s speaker know how to operate it.” “That will not help us much,” Bookshelf said. “We would need a key. And that druid, Tracia smashed the only one we knew of. We had hoped the book would have some information about it.” “Ah…the book knew of two keys; the lesser and the greater,” Twisted Mirth said knowingly. “And sadly, Moragon has the only greater key that remains.” I heard several others give a heavy sigh, but I didn’t. And I was right in my suspicious as the hag continued, “But that stupid insipid gnome knew nothing about the [I]master[/I] key.” “So what?” Doxx retorted. “Unless you have it what good does knowing—” and Doxx looked at the hag, whose smile grew wider as he spoke. “You have it,” The Blade said. “Most of it,” Twisted Mirth corrected. “And I know exactly where the two pieces are to complete it. I will finish it and give it to you to use…as you will.” “And what do you want exactly?” I asked. The hag cackled “Simply you find the Speaker and remove them from the board. Nothing more, and it as close to an even exchange that you will ever get from another auntie.” “You will set your two slaves free,” Adrissa said quietly. She had been silent throughout the discussion. Twisted Mirth looked at the girl with an expression between surprise and amusement. “How adorable; trying to bargain…” the hag rubbed her chin and after a moment shrugged. “Why not? You may have them.” The man serving as Twisted Mirth’s seat, twisted his head to look at Adrissa with tears in his eyes, as he continued to struggle to hold Twisted Mirth’s bulk. The woman however, propped herself and looked at Adrissa with shock, shaking her head in what I guessed was disbelief. “So…how do we do this?” Doxx asked, “Spit? Blood oaths?” Twisted Mirth stood up shaking her head. “Such perverted bargains come later,” to which Doxx shuddered for a moment at an unbidden thought. “For me to make such a bargain, I need you complete a task for me. Or rather two tasks.” [B]Session Notes:[/B] Twisted Mirth is not a nice hag. At all. And yes there is/was a lot of exposition here, but it leads to excitement I swear. [/QUOTE]
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The Thorns of Winter -(updated 8/1/2023)
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