The Musings of the Sane

[Vahene]

The chanting was in elvish, which she didn't know. Behind her, in front,
around, priests and acolytes stood, pouring water on her head, letting it
drift down her lithe body and back into the source. She was shivering,
yet not cold from the icy waters but from the process which wrapped
around her soul. The chill seeped into her skin, then her bones, and
from there, into the fabric of magic that the former devout obtained.

Her magic, tainted, nearly destroyed, caused her body to shudder
violently as the chanting increased both in volume and intensity. Divine
replaced had been replaced with something much darker. This dark
magic clung to her soul, fusing with her during a dark ritual she stupidly
had done two years before.

The chanting stopped as suddenly as it started.

She looked up to gaze into the sad looking eyes of the elvish priest in
front of her. As he began to open his mouth, something happened. The
water stirred of its on free will around her kneeling legs. It captured her
body and wrapped her inside a cocoon of pure blue.

"You have asked, so you shall receive."

The voice fled, and the water was still around her as she blinked the next
second. The priest looked frightened for a moment and then gave her a
tentative smile.

"Welcome to Lord Rhauth's ranks, Vahene Shadowight, former servant of
Culnul." Her eyes seemed to brighten and then dimmed at his next words.
"Your duties shall be to observe in the port city of Cear. There, it shall be
obvious what your next instructions are. Be patient, and may Rhauth be
with your travels."

Vahene stood.

She turned to leave and then without facing the priest, asked, "What about
my magic--it hasn't returned to me? What about your pledge to help me?"

"We have helped you, child. You were a lost beacon, and now you have
been given light. The darkness shall continue to consume your magic,
but it shall not take your soul," the Priests spoke quietly.

Somehow, she didn't feel settled.

[Will]

Oh, nice one!

[Ludovic]

That's a nice read. It's refreshing to see other people explain where their character's powers come from. Good intro.

[Grayle]

A nice vignette. I felt as though I could 'see' it.

[Vahene]

Vahene Shadowight once stood on street corners, assessing those who
might be ripe for Culnul's harvest. She would preach to the unbelieving,
and convert those that wanted power. Now, however, she simply wanted
to be left alone. Rhauth filled her with a purpose, a distraction from her
former role as one of Culnul's own. Her soul might be protected, but her
heart was close to shattering.

How did you serve a diety, knowing little about them?

She served Rhauth now, because she owed him her life. Culnul's magics
were literally destroying her. The priests had a more in depth
conversation with her once the ritual was done.

"What do you mean the darkness shall continue to consume my magic?"
She asked the question with ice in her tone.

"You were once Culul's cleric, his priestess, born into his ranks from the
words you, yourself have told me," the Priest said more confidently.
"Your divine magic is gone, Culnul has destroyed it. In its place, he has
transformed you... into what is known as a warlock. Your magic comes
from within. Our ritual has changed you, so that your magic shall now
divine power from our mutual lord of Rhauth, instead of Culnul. Think
of Rhauth when you use your power. Think of what he would wish you
to do in life, and in your actions."

"Think of Rhauth? I don't know anything about him!" She screamed.
"Why would he help me?"

The Priest had patience beyond what she could comprehend. "Rhauth is
the master of the oceans, the seas, and of tempests. Everyone who has
ever stepped foot on his waters respects and knows his name. His is
unpredictable and quick to anger, traits you also share."

She glared at him.

"I knew your father, child," the Priest said gently. "That is why you came
to me, is it not?"

She sighed. "Yes."

"Your father died when you were merely two years old, and your mother
at your birth. I sent you away to a... place... I should not have, and I
regret that now. You could not have known that your father was once a
Priest to Rhauth like myself. It is in your blood, your mother also served
the faith," the Priest said gently.

"Why didn't you ever tell me this?" Vahene hissed.

"I did not think that when I sent you away to school you would come back
worshipping the Lord of Stolen Souls," the Priest snapped. "I thought you
would be getting an education, the education I sent you for."

He paused.

Then said, "Child, let Rhauth guide you. You shall find your path. Do
what in your heart you know to be true, and he shall not fail you."

She turned away and left without another word.

[Vahene]

Do what was in her heart?

That priest had to be joking.

Vahene sighed and stared from the shadows near the Mistyvale. What
was in her heart clenched and wanted nothing more than to destroy all
that dared to even look at her the wrong way. She stalked out the gates
as Guardsman Marcus gave her one last cautious look. She avoided the
boars and wolves burrowing hunters into the ground around her, and kept
walking down the treaded dirt path.

She had been in Cear for nearly six months. Mostly, people ignored her.

She preferred it that way.

The few times people had actually paid attention to her, she had received
disgusted looks, frightened glances. Mostly from priests, or those that
could sense magic. Her power tended to disturb their sensabilities. It
wasn't as if anyone would bother to find out her problems. It wasn't as
if anyone would care, and she didn't need a babysitter.

Thrall's Gate came into view.

Her heart clenched at the sight of the water.

Every time she saw it, the reaction was the same.

Vahene would touch the water, feel its serenity and be calmed. She would
go to the docks even in bad weather. She really didn't care what it was
like around her. The raging wind and rain storms, the tempests that flew
around her, the Priests at the nearby temple staring at her as she walked
past in the middle of a rainstorm as if she had lost her mind. It didn't
matter.

Follow her heart indeed.

How could a person follow their heart if they didn't have one?

[Vahene]

Vahene was an intelligent girl, if she said so herself. Studying from books
and other venues during her short eighteen year old lifetime, however, did
not make up for the actual experience of living. So when the conversation
turned to people she didn't know, hadn't met, and from the descriptions
probably didn't want to, and then mixed in with her breast size--she got a
little on edge. Especially with how that William fellow kept oogling her.

She didn't want to explain that the reason she wore the outfit was because
it was enchanted to help her abilities--ehm, focus better. The threat of
blowing up Will's ale did seem to sober him slightly. He wisely stepped
away from her slightly. However, the oogling continued. So she had large
assets. Who cared? It wasn't as if she didn't notice.

She wasn't totally heartless, was she?

He was rather attractive looking.

Upon his offer to accompany him back to the Inn... she'd merely said:

If you're lucky.

And walked away.

She didn't intend to hold to that small, minute promise.

Plus, she doubted he'd be sober enough to remember.

[Vahene]

All right.

So she broke her promise.

But it was that damn Tracker's fault! Vahene swore to herself she
wouldn't let her emotions override her better judgment. She was getting
soft. A handful of pretty compliments from the Tracker, and exchange of
names, and an invitation she actually would be more than happy to
accept--and she turned into a mass of goo.

What happened to the virtues she learned uner Chulnul?

Obviously, they went away. Far away.

She couldn't say she wasn't pleased.

-V

(PS-thanks for the DM interaction, I nearly fell out of my seat when it
happened, I was taken much by surprise)

[Vahene]

Right. Apparently, she had turned into something soft and gooey.

She had no idea what was going on with her and Will. There were times
she thought he was just humoring her, perhaps to get her to open up.
And there were other times she thought he was actually being sincere.
He made her promise to forgive and forget the grudge she held. She
said 'Fine', but that didn't mean she'd not hold the grudge at all. She'd
try, but in Pylia's case, they had quite a bit to talk about.

"If something happens to him, its your fault," she had been told by the
bardess.

"Let it go, for me?" Will had asked.

Hell, she was trying. It wasn't that easy to let go of a grudge.

She told Satinka that she would just go back to being an emotionless
nobody. She didn't know if the information got back to the others or not.
In fact, she didn't care, she hoped it did.

Vahene shivered in the corner of her room.

What she told Will, though, had been correct.

"Everytime someone gets close to me, they die."

Her parents birthed her. They died because of her choices.

Her previous mentors died because of those searching for her.

Cear was her last option to stay alive.

With all of the Talon around, they couldn't get in, right?

-V

[Vahene]

(I thought I'd explain the tail end of the last post a bit more.. for those
that might still be reading.. heh..)

.

What she told Will, though, had been correct.

"Everytime someone gets close to me, they die."

Her parents birthed her. They died because of her choices.

Her previous mentors died because of those searching for her.

Cear was her last option to stay alive.

With all of the Talon around, they couldn't get in, right?

.

The letter fell to the floor, an anguished sob escaping Vahene's lips. Tears
rolled down her face, falling on unknown territory. The tiny room at the
Mistyvale she called her own seemed to consume her. The darkening
shadows from the windowless room surrounded her body and seemed to
scream her name, trying to taste her.

I regret to inform you...

The entire temple--dead.

The only information in the letter she received, practically thrown at her
earlier--two days prior. It was written by the ones she ran from, those
that she left in the sect of a cult that served Culnul. The only way out,
to them, was death. You weren't allowed to make decisions, they were
made for you. She broke the rules.

They found her all ready, as she knew they would.

Would the friends she made stand by her? Would she have to watch as
more people were slaughtered before her eyes? She didn't know what to
do. A part of her wanted to slip behind the bar and drink the strongest ale
that Roggins had and quietly slip into a dream-like oblivion. Perhaps she
would drink herself to death, or she could gather herbs and poison herself
(but she'd have to do it right so she wouldn't get caught). Maybe, just
maybe she could get someone to kill her.

It would save her soul if someone else did the deed.

If someone killed her, destroyed her before Culnul did--it would save her.

She began to cry hysterically.

She didn't want to die.

[Vahene]

"Why did I have to force it out of you? Why don't you just ask for help?"

"Because its my problem!"

Vahene regretted the sentence as soon as she said it. The truth was
she did want help. She just didn't really know how to ask for it. She
was starting to care for Will, but she seemed more apt to push him
away than to pull him closer.

She sighed.

She would apologize, hope Draco didn't tell anyone about her crying
in the fountain, and just prepare herself to be rejected once again.

Why did she interact with people anyway?

She still hadn't figured that out.

-V

[Vahene]

She rejected company for the period of a week now.

She would continue to stay away.

It had nothing to do with current events, or with Will, or any of the other
friends she had made. The books in front of her, regarding arcane and
divine magic, manipulation of magical power, among others sat with an
opened letter, written and cried upon in days previous. Another letter sat
right on top, the seal unmistakably that of Culnul's.

Your existence has been forgotten. You owe me.

She didn't know who it was from. The handwriting wasn't familiar, but
she had been away from home for quite some time. The time she spent
in Morell hadn't helped any, nor the time she spent in the north, studying
in .. other.. cities--names, faces, she was desperate to forget. Now that
she had fled to Cear, she had worried about being tracked.

A worry that was now obsolete.

But who did she need to thank?