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Message: <blockquote data-quote="megamania" data-source="post: 7606769" data-attributes="member: 9255">DARKSUN: THE ELEMENTS OF EVILSEGMENT 001“CREATURES OF THE NIGHT”SEASON: FRIEND’S VENGEANCE  YEAR 24MONTH: NOBLEDAY: 10KA: 190The lair is dark and cool since it is deep underground.  It is in a section of broken up land known as badlands between the city-states of Raam and Draj but to the south.  The humanoids and new races that live here avoid this section.  Many raiding parties have come here and never return.  Never. Return.The underground lair was once a temple dedicated to the water.   A lot of water.  Water of the likes that have not been seen in 1000’s of years.  Maybe longer.  Myth and Legend is like that.  Hard to define and even harder to prove.  A secret door leads to secret tunnels that travel deep into the earth- under the badlands.  The tunnels have mosaics of blue tiles with creatures similar to those of today.  Creatures in purple and green with thick shells on their backs and others with tentacles.Thin roots and moss grow here, cultivated by the current resident.   The resident consumes it for energy.  But unlike most gardeners, the consumption is not food but to power spells.  Though the resident is a defiler, these plants are not destroyed.  They are the emergency back-up.  The resident also uses The Will & The Way.   Psionics.Psionics and Magic.A deadly mix.A deadly mix made worse with knowledge.“Did you find the amulet Quarrell?” A woman hidden in shadows that dance under the influence of several lit candles.“Maaaaaybe.  Maybe not.  Why ask that you already know?”“Do not make me punish you.   Do you still possess it?   Do you possess the amulet held by Clu?”“Clu no longer needs it.  Clu has no throat for it.  Clu wanders the realm of The Grey.”“Go to the caravan.  It leaves at daybreak when Kalak’s lackey’s open the main gate.  Hide the amulet in the usual way.  When it reaches Draj I will collect it.   You will get your reward then.”“Oh Gooooody-goody-goody.  I do like my playthings.   The last one you gave me broke.”“Stupid Imp.  Don’t play so rough.”“You would call me names?   Some day….. some day….”A soft but malicious giggle followed by a warning tone- “Some day what dear Quarrell?   Some day what?”Heeeeee-hee-hee….. “Nothing.  Just saying.” The resident waves over the reflective Mica and ends the scrying spell.   “Someday indeed.”Meanwhile-  hidden to the north- outside of the Tyr Valley several people sit in a circle around a camp fire.  They try to meet once or twice a year within this grove.  They met out of respect, friendship and to learn what can be done to heal the world.Earth Cleric Jenner, a member of the Preserver Knights and Korgunard, a powerful psion and preserver were the last to arrive.   Before them came a pyreen (powerful fey creature) Par-Alar , Grate, an ex-gladiator dwarf now member of a nearby slave tribe and the druid Zero whom watches over this camp and the grove it sits hidden within.  One other man sits here.  He looks human but his eyes speak of pain and sorrow.  His one arm seems mutated.  It is scaly and has talons on it.  He is known now only as The Wanderer.“Is it true?  You have discovered an answer to the Sorcerer-Kings and Queens?” asks the tall elf like woman. The man with the strange arm smiles and nods in the affirmative.  “Yes.  I believe so.”“What is it?” asks the Cleric covered with dirt and grit, more than one should have from long days and nights of traveling.  “Surely a powerful weapon from the days of war.  As a gladiator I should be the one to wield it.” Declares the hairless dwarf.  “I would gladly take it and stuff it up Kalak’s shriveled old man butt!”“I have little doubt you would Grate.  But it is not a hand-held weapon.  It is a new weapon.  One much like them.  It came from a scroll I found in the Silt Sea.  A preserver with psionics named Avangion wrote it hundreds…. May longer…. Years ago.  It is a spell powered by psionics.”“oh.” Mumbles the disappointed gladiator.Zero speaks up with concern in his voice.  “Magic?   Will that harm our world further?”“It will be preserver magic.  On a grand scale…. But not destructive.”“Then let us use it.  I can gather up the leaders of the Veiled Alliance of each city-state-…”“No.  It is untested.  It suggests a possible mutation.  I will not wish that onto anyone.” Korgunard whispers while trying (and failing miserably) to not look at The Wanderer’s arm.  “I will research it further then, when it is time to test it, I shall be the first test subject.”“Then it is agreed.  We will return here on the 10th day of month of Elements.”Each place a hand over their mouths, signifying silence and an oath to save the world. The meeting is over.  Some leave.  Some stay to talk.  All have a lighter spirit.On an island long forgotten about, sits a ruin half buried in blowing silt.  Few have been here since the days of Silt.  Few but there have been.   A lone tall standing elf dressed in worn rags with a facemask that resembles a Silt Horror with mica shields to see through, climbs within the ruins.  He defies the element of air as it blows against him.  He struggles to climb a broken but sturdy wall but does so.  Soon the sun, a dark sun, will rise.   But first- he wants to call out.  He wants to call out to the silt around him.He shouts and waves his arms in triumph.   The silt billows up into a series of waves.   “Thankyou!  Thankyou for your gifts!” the elf calls out in his native tongue.  Strangely, the silt doesn’t seem to choke him nor bother him.  Each have accepted the other.He turns and looks below and motions.  Others, mostly elves, begin to climb the wall…. To welcome the power of…. Silt.A man sits on a straw mat facing the tall and stabbing Ringing Mountains.  From his vantage point he believes he can see and sense everything beyond the mountains before him and down the steep cliffs into the Kreen country.   The world has become wretched and dying.   He has been meditating and focusing on that very subject.   How can Athas be saved?  Can Athas be saved?   Should one even bother?Yes.There is beauty and compassion in the world.  Not so much within the city-states like Tyr and Urik, but in the surrounding country side.   His mind travels through the valley searching for ideas and clues.   A child… of all persons… an innocent child is thinking about this very subject in a dwarven village near Tyr.  The child shows wisdom for his age.“Mother…. Mother where is father?”An answer is given.  One that saddens the child.“War?   Perhaps King Kalak and King Hamanu should have a sit-down like we do.   Maybe they need a time out.   You know-  a redo.  To make things better.”The powerful psion can sense and feel the mother grasp and hug the child.  It calms him and gives him a sense of security.Still in a dream-like state the psion, Pharistes, thinks out loud….. “…. A redo.  To make things better.”His eyes snap open and he exclaims “The Psionatrix!”.   There are many forces out on this day.   Many indeed.  But they will all crossover.  It begins on a trade road between Raam and Draj.   Several travelers looking for not just survival….. but also for direction.</blockquote>

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