Dust & Blood

Wevv's Appendix 0409 - 0415

Wevv’s Appendix #0409
:: Wevv’s Trial :: “Ay’mad, His Mistress & The Challenges Outside of Tyr” ::
“My Party marches on in their path as I’m overtaken by the circumstances of these past months, straddled by touching the darkness of my Sister-Elf’s mind. The Blackness consumes me, tunnel-vision forming around my every sense of perception. I follow my prayers as The Players head out.

The sight of the horizon, endless & hazy as the heat melts the air above the sand, loosens the grasp of The Black in my mind. But its influence, alters things. I’m still out of phase with reality but images form in the hours of the march out of Tyr. The sickness in my psyche peaks harder than ever, my eyes burn black & blue.

Parched, I see That Black Tower everywhere. I see two hands, covered in fine metal gauntlets, more poured than carved. Its form draped in a near unending starry dark viscous cloak — alive with The Defiling Dark still lingering in my psyche. Firery puss yellow eyes float glowing against the completely tattooed skin of its face — sharpened & deformed through some dark pact. It sits atop a throne, perched on a platform-less ziggurrat, its aura reaching into the recesses of a room more suited to some bizarre ritualistic animal slaughterhouse.

Instead there are … littering its throne room, giant racks, half-bodies stapled & screwed to them. Blood. & … Dust. & the smallest bits of the souls that left this plane here ooze into grates strewn randomly throughout the sickly black-red stone work of the decaying floor.

An evil thing, a woman, perhaps formerly an elf — now possessed with the unbalanced evil of its master’s touch — adorned with the most abhorrent pieces of humanity available, leisurely inscribes a cruel patchwork of artistry & misery on a small human boy.

Its silvery hands move slowly & gracefully, as if to a distant beat. Until they don’t. Springing to life. Dealing out its deathly touch. It points & the circulatory system of the boy dissolves into the nothingness of its touch. He quivers then slumps finally as he touches The Gray. & on.

Its mind stabs at me then, even in these oblique images. The pain slowly forces itself out of me. It retreats & Her blessing returns. Water returns to my lips & the sun no longer blackens my gaze.”

Wevv’s Appendix #0413
:: Wevv’s Trial :: “An Aquifer of Tyr” ::
“After half-days travel from Tyr, we found the seemingly abandoned Gith camp, at the base of a cliff wall. There’s a passage, inside the face. There’s something in the air, a psionic wind emanating from this place. I feel a particular verb, the sounds of dripping water, like the most sacred places of home. I pray to Her, The Water Spirit, hoping this is the place. But I am too weak to conjure Her power to this plane.

Inside there is clay, shifting beneath us as we crawl into the mouth of the aquifer. Ja’Amun & I slip down into the lair. Foolishly I approach to fast, a tendril-tongue glints in my eye & I poke too closely with my mind. It snaps at me & I phase just barely out of its way. We push our way in as the trap closes its maw. They snap at us, pulling us to them, deep into the height of the cavern. But our strikes are swift & by the sand at our heels we wipe out the chitinous brood. The entrance is sealed, with us & whatever else lays inside this glorious place.

I swim in the water, trying to be amazed to be back in its grace as it glistens by our torch light. This other psionic force inside my mind is ancient, seeming to permeate everything about this place. We gather from, the most iron I have ever seen in one place, as many pieces as we can. I gulp of this pure water heavily as I swim through its shadows.”

Wevv’s Appendix #0414
:: Wevv’s Trial :: “The Silent Mind of My Sister-Elf, pt two” ::
“In the recesses of The Aquifer at Tyr, the ancient aberrant psychic energy lashes out at my Sister-Elf’s mind. She screams; falls ill. Some psychic vision is infiltrating her mind, in seconds she’s writhing in agony. I hear Its Darkness in her voice & fear grips me again.

I must stand strong, draw the aberrant power of this place into my mind & trying to shield myself from the darkness of its touch this time as I attempt to peer into her mind. I draw it into me, through the water, reaching out with my left hand to touch Lorne’s mind.

My finger connects, just barely with her temple, & the three psionic powers collide knocking me back & up into the air. Tendrils of psionic sparks whip around, immobilizing me there, suspending me by the tip of my left index finger. The blue lightning shoots out from the larger metal fragments in the water, through me, then down to my Sister-Elf. The psionic energy burns. I let out a sharp scream as I hear a brittle crackling & pain rakes through my left arm. I look to it, it’s form shifting to a icy crystalline lattice where my muscles & skin used to be. The veins, nerves & bones now exposed inside of the transparent polyhedronal surface of my new grotesque arm.

The sounds of its crystalline structure solidifying sends shivers throughout my psyche as the aftershocks of the transformation take hold. I hear a cackling, from The Black Tower in my mind, the curse of my own impetuous nature now made manifest in my physical form. This foul mark, this cursed non-flesh, my pride solidified into its horrid shape. I am no longer Drak, instead something else, far darker & stranger. I will forever be an outcast to my people, the creator of my own banishment as I lusted for the power to save the Drak way of life.

I feel a strange new power manifest in my mind, that I can not control. It desires to lash out at all who approach me, requiring only the slightest provocation to make its power manifest around me uncontrollably. The presence of The Water Spirit washes through me, flowing through the new hard surface of my arm. It calms me — as I see that at least She has not forsaken me.”

Wevv’s Appendix #0415
:: “The Cursed Drak” ::
“There are stories told to young Drak training to be battleminds, of the foibles of the overly ambitious, whose lust for power causes their psychic presence to become manifest & permanently mutate their physical form. Such Drak are banished from the tribe for their personal greed, unable to pursue the fruits of a good life within the bounds of the drake’s habit.”

:: You are a foulborn. Your origin changes to aberrant, and you are considered an aberrant creature for the purpose of effects that relate to creature origin. You have the Unbalanced Mind power. ::
:: Unbalanced Mind * Encounter * Immediate Reaction ::
:: Trigger: You take damage from an attack.
:: Effect: Until the end of your next turn, any creature that enters a square adjacent to you or ends its turn there takes 5 psychic damage.