Christ Centered Gamer

Kratimos smiles at the turn of events.
"Well met, Volstaid." Kratimos eases up, but never lets go of his suspicion. "Forgive our overly cautious behavior. The living and the undead haven't had the best rapport, but we thank you for your hospitality."

Kratimos steps closer to the fire to join in the warmth, as a tacit sign of friendship, while holding Anna's little hand to keep her close to him. After all, they are surrounded.

"I have not heard of the Hestic before. Tell me of your people and your watchy ways."

The memory is intensely vivid. You sit on the cliff and look over. There, on the beach you see yourself as a younger man. Sword and shield in your hand and your father opposite you. You father lunges forward and you spin right forcing your father off of his balance. Your shield collides with the older man in the side and he is knocked off of his feet and lands face first into the sand. You notice the younger you is filled with fear as your father stands to his feet, back facing him. As your father turns about, it's clear from his hilarious expression on his face that he took the blow with grace. He brushes himself off and begins to congratulate you on your form and you both share a good laugh. You both find your form again and begin to practice once again.

This is one of your warmest memories with your father.

*Your father is a good man. You strive to earn his respect but it's clear that you already have it. Your father loves you.* The creature states, and then raises his teacup through his tentacles to a beak like mouth and slurps the hot beverage.

You notice he's a bit taken aback by your statement. "I apologize, we are not of the vile undead. The Volstaid are a people from a different plane then that of your own. We are the children of the ferryman, caretakers of those who have shucked off their mortal shell. On occasion our people will take up residences in places where many of the dead are present, since we are drawn to it. In this case, we were traveling the planes and we felt an influx of your souls being released into our plane to be ferried to their eternal lives."

He shifts his weight on his feet and rubs his hands together, "The problem was, after we came to this place to aid them on their journey the Darktide were set to raising their corpses and imprisoning their souls in the rotting, mindless corpses. You see, the Hestic despise the undead more than anything. We rallied our warriors and crossed over the planes into this realm to seek out these creatures and free their souls. We approached the creatures from behind and in front, Father Michael confronted them at the gates of Agronon. The creatures were destroyed and the souls were freed to return to their eternal lives. We, however, understood that our journey was a one way trip. We are unable to return to our home plane so we took up residence here at the sight of the great battle. Forever we tend to the dead and if an abomination were to arise, we free it's soul by force. Our people are powerful combatants against the undead. We are warrior scholars and seek to bring this present darkness to an end."

His features become clearly irate, "The Lich walks this plane. Mellifluer, the abhorrent abomination. The god of the darkest of undead. The god of the Lich."

You open the door and step through, you are welcomed with the high ceilings of the foyer. There appears to be no one around. In front of you is an aged wooden door. The same is to your left. Dust covers most of everything here. Something catches your ear. Somewhere deep in the house. A deep male voice booming.

((Roll a listen check to determine the location from which the sound is coming and to see if you can discern what is being said))

Kratimos face dropped and he became dead ((pun not inte--nah, totally intended)) serious. A god is nothing to trifle about, and certainly not the Lichlord.
"How did you come to know this?"

"I'm surprised you are unaware of such action since you are both messengers after all." He smiles and continues, "My people have put down more of the wretched unliving in the last few years that we have in the entire history of our people. Recently, we dispatched a clan of vampires masquerading as nobles living in the capitol city of Agronon. There, I held a vampire lord named Gultiare du Thesian by the throat with one hand as I drove a stake into it's wretched heart with my other. He was clothed in some sort of armor that resembled a human torso and a helmet capped with a stripe of long red hair that ran through the helmet. It was quite a battle but in the end I was able to remove the armor. My hand drew tight around his neck and he whispered something to me in a strange language but one word I did recognize. Mellifluer. After hearing that wretched blasphemy I drove a stake through it's heart, decapitated it, and burned the head in a fire made from white oak. Soon after I began hunting for answers and, to my horror I discovered that the infernal god is here, on this plane. He is in the great city and occupies the throne of the king. His vile servants are dispatched and each day more and more of what is good becomes tainted."

A toothy, sinister grin crept across Kratimos' face at the mention of the vampires and their demise, but his eyes flashed with hatred at the name of Gultiare du Thesian. A vampire Lord bearing the name of his people. Even the armor and helm sounded like it resembled traditional Thesian armor. It was close as blasphemy as it comes for him. A fire burned deep within him.
"I've been detained as of late, but I will have a lot of catching up to do." Kratimos held his hand out across the fire toward the Hestic ranger, "We find ourselves compatriots after all in this fight. I ask but one favor. Relay me any word you hear about vampires calling themselves Thesian. I will not have them dishonor of my people. I will spare them no mercy. They must be purged. I thank you for your service."

Winthrop watches the exchange between the two, puzzled. It seems that they have something in common - a common enemy, as it were. But what was meant by messenger? What message did he have? Trip is puzzled by these events and their conversation... but as long as no one is trying to kill each other, then there didn't seem to be any reason to interrupt.

Winthrop looks to the young girl. He offers a reassuring smile.

"Who are you that you presume to know my father?" Guy's voice is not angry... or at least he tries to keep it from being angry... "Why have you conjured this memory?"

((I want to seek out another temple friendly to Ehlonna to try to clear up some of my confusion))

Quietly making her way around Crimson thinks she hears something

listen
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((My hopes were to have the others progress a little further along. Chris has replied only a few times and I need to make a great deal of headway with him before he will be as far along as you are. Would you mind poking him every time I make a post for him? Just give him a good jam in the ribs, that'll remind him to reply on the forums lol.))

You set out on the streets of Underport in search of another temple friendly to Ehlonna. As you progress away from the temple of Olidamara, you notice that the scene progressively deteriorates. Soon you find yourself in a neighborhood filled with squalor and despair. As you walk about, you see a tiny hovel with the markings of St Cuthbert on a sign overhanging the front door.

The memory fades and soon you are sitting in a massive black room. A light source illuminates yourself and nothing else. You hear the creatures voice in your mind once again.

**Bare this in mind human. You are not a corpse being cleaned off of the floor of the arena now. Instead, your body rests comfortably on a bed while I probe your thoughts. There is good in you human. Courage, hope, and a love for justice. I needed to be sure, so I searched your mind. Your rage is deep as is your passion which will be for you fuel in the darker days to come.

I am an astral traveler. On a journey from this realm into the infinite I encountered a man. We stopped for a moment, and engaged one another. He was the embodied form of Olidammara, the god of thieves. He informed me of the coming doom to this world and his mission to try to preserve it. The other gods, currently occupied by a greater endeavor, were unable to save this world while it was ravaged by the great lich. Olidammara took it upon himself to descend to your world to thwart the efforts of the dark god.

You are but a piece of this puzzle, a small but important piece. You see, the gods are losing their hold over this world. Each day, their power and influence falter ever so slightly. Your brand, your...marking sets you as one of the chosen to free this world from this darkness.**

He pauses for a moment his gaze bores into yours **You are not one who trusts easily, especially considering** He ponders the words carefully **Considering what I am human. Those who are of my kind are dark, they have chosen to devour the minds of sentient creatures as did I at one time. Understand who I am and where I came from. I am a but a traveler, not bound to a hivemind as many of my kind are. Instead, my mind was the only one that I truly cared for. I saw things differently than the others. Instead of blindly following I began to ask questions and those questions led me to my separation from my collective. For decades I wandered in search for an answer to my being. While wandering the perpetual darkness of the underworld I was unable to find sustenance. Eventually I placed my body in a state of suspended animation and allowed my mind to wander hoping my fate would progress with the passage of time. Among the stars of the astral plane I encountered the Beautiful Cathedral of Lights. The home of the god Celestian. It was there I discovered who I was all along. In the streams of the stars I was born anew as a creature of the heavens. Finally, peace. Peace that I never knew could be.**

The eyes of the creature visibly relax. **My greatest struggle came at the conflict of what I am and my nature as an Illithid. I prayed and sought the advice of sages and wise men. Understand, Guy, that my people are sustained by the minds of sentient creatures. Finally, while wandering the halls of the Grand Bazaar within the Maze World of yIghoSDo', I encountered a Priestess who delivered from my need. She gave me many trinkets of divine power and blessed me. I was free of the hunger that consumed me. With joy wandered the worlds and lived many lives. Adventures beyond even my comprehension.** His tone joyful, **Eventually I was inducted into the priesthood of Celestian and achieved the rank of a high priest. What beautiful days they were.**

His expression, from what you can gather, shifts into something pained. **Eventually I was awoken, unaware of my predicament. I was captured by slave traders wandering the underworld. They took my body while it was suspended and sold me to a lord of Agronon. The evil man wanted me for a pet who would punish his enemies. As a changed being, I refused to cooperate and he tortured me.** He reaches to his face where you notice him stroking an appendage. A tentacle half as long as the rest and clearly scared.

**As the Star Lord would have it, however, this would not be my end. When the dark lich arrived in this world, he and this evil lord decided my fate best served in the arena. I was forced into a cell with other....more savage creatures who hungered for the flesh of man. While they feasted I fasted and was sustained by the power I was blessed with. I was beginning to lose hope until today when I saw you in the arena. Right now, the others think I am feasting on your mind in the privacy of my cell.**

He pauses, lost for a moment in thought, **I must know guy, though your trust is something not given easily, I believe that the Star Lord put us together for a reason. I feel his light fading from me, his contact with this world is slowly slipping away. I need your help, as does the rest of this world. Are you the hope I've waited so patiently for?**

You strain your ears but the sound is too muffled for you to discern what is being said. The sheer volume of the sound gives you a general idea of where this individual is.

((As you travel, please remember to roll move silently, hide in shadows, listen, and spot. This tells me that you are actively doing this as you move. Feel free to reroll every so often to update how well you are doing it.))

The Hestic reaches out his pale hand and embraces Kratimos'. You notice right away that his flesh is cold, like that of a corpse. He withdraws his hand and continues, "We do a thorough investigation when we find an undead in a place of political power. We know that often they create their own servants and thralls that must be hunted down and destroyed. Often, we encounter evidence of deeper corruption. As we searched, we encountered his personal journal. You may want to look it over, it might provide some insight regarding your people. "

He stands to his feet and returns with a large sack. He reaches inside and pulls out a large book and hands it to you.

"Messengers, what do you feel needs to be done about this lich? The Hestic have been watching and waiting for the right omen and perhaps this is it."