Night Reign: Revelations

Amaranth: Honorbound
Revelations of a Nightmare

57 Summer, 2979
Middle Quarter, Iso’Farsh

Lord Agdread kicked the dead body of another Karsarian mage off the roof of the building. The fifth one today. The knight was finished with this little game of pretend with the war mages and their trading company masters. It was coming to an end and Agdread was glad that he could soon leave this cursed land.

The knight turned and began to make his way down from the roof when a strike of black shot past his right shoulder. The imp turned gracefully back toward the knight and began to speak rapidly in its infernal language. The knight remained quiet and listened to the creature describe how the meddlesome adventurers had found the secret ritual room of Jaxon and were attacking the disciples.

Frowning, the knight made his way off the building and down the street to the innocent looking building. As he walked, he called out to the Winter Wyrm’s aide. The eclipsed sun’s light was soon blocked by the wings of angels.

Amaranth: Glimpse
The race to the end has begun

55 Summer, 2979
Middle Quarter, Iso’Farsh

Lord Agdread sat down on a nearby rock and took off his helm. He winced as he set it down on the ground. It has been some time since he had lost a fight and he wasn’t sure what he was feeling. His own master would not be pleased that he lost the silver dragon to the meddlesome adventurers. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall.

No, he was sure that was not the last time he would see those adventurers. Next time, he would be cautious and deliver the word of Winter to them. Let the Great Wyrm decide their fight in their afterlife. For now, however, he had to concentrate on the here and now. His spy had reported that the group had made their way into Somnium mansion, no doubt after the remaining two orbs. He was confident in Acerium and Ith’kak’s loyalty but not their ability. Surely, if they could best him, they would not stand a chance.

Yes, they would perish but in doing so, he could use the group to further his goals. Now was the time for patience. When the storm of winter was at its peak at the group was blinded, he would strike.

Amaranth: Fortitude
Red dragon surprise

53 Summer, 2979
Middle Quarter, Iso’Farsh

Lord Agdread handed his bloodied sword off to his captain in absolute disgust. He knelt down to the bleeding creature that clutched a burlap sack tightly to its chest. Its buggy eyes darted back and forth as death slowly came for it. The lord grabbed what little hair the creature had on top of its head and pulled it close. “Tell me where the orb is,” he snarled.

The creature stammered, now unable to see. “The d-d-dragon…” was all that it could say before it finally died in his hand. Lord Agdread growled and threw the head back down onto the cobblestone street. He looked over the creature for any other clues for several moments until he spotted a clue. He stood up and looked over his shoulder to the half orc beside him. “I know where the next orb is. Gather the men,” he ordered and then looked down to the dead creature. “May Winter embrace you,” he offered before turning around and walking away.

Amaranth: Electrifying
Reviving friends and making new enemies

50 Summer, 2979
Lower East Quarter, Iso’Farsh

The head of the minotaur champion bounced along the ground until it came to a stop at the collective feet of the group. Among the minotaur warriors were an odd collection of medusa mercenaries and slaad slaves. A frown came to the face of an elderly human as he looked down to the head. He eyes followed the trail of blood back to the executioner, his lips keeping the frown. “It would appear that my best is…inadequate.”

Lord Agdread wiped the blood clean from his blade before sheathing the weapon. “You and your people work for me now,” he said in a slow, commanding voice.

The gang of creatures looked to their master in dismay but he merely held up his hand for silence. He nodded is head once to the Lord before him. “As you request…my Lord,” came the slow reply.

Lord Agdread looked over the group of rabble before him in disgust, though none could see it due to the visor of his helm still being down. Their champion was a moderate challenge though it was obvious that the thing had never had formal training. Only years of survival to hone its skill. He then gave himself a mental shrug. The creatures would serve their purpose in ferreting out the orbs. All in good time.

Amaranth: Deadly
Beaten to the punch and petrified of the consequences

49 Summer, 2979
Iso’Farsh, Iso’Latarin
Lord Agdread pulled a cloth from his pouch and wiped his face clean of the blood that had splattered over him. He then knelt next to the body that still held his sword in its chest and tilted his head in thought. He still felt nothing from the kill; no joy, no sadness. Only a void of emotion. He frowned slightly and then looked at the face of the human on the ground. His face was frozen in terror as he died. At least he died feeling something, thought Agdread.

The lord stood to his feet and surveyed the field of battle. He had not expected to encounter a band of treasure hunters so soon after landing ashore. They were a mix of human and cushani, most likely from Karsari based on their clothing. The battle was quick and efficient which he preferred though the carelessness of the man at his feet did allow a handful of the hunters to escape. The thought should annoy him but once again, he felt nothing. He pulled his sword from the chest of the man and wiped it clean with his cloth before sheathing it. He then placed the bloodied rag over the face of the dead human and offered a prayer to the Winter Wyrm to guide the soul to the River of Souls.

Putting his helm back on, Lord Agdread turned and walked back over to the rest of his men. He withdrew a map from his pouch and unfolded it. He quickly figured the distanced to the ruined city of Iso’Farsh and the location of the dream orb in the southern quarter. The city was sure to be populated but he didn’t care. There was little in the world that gave him pause. He folded the map and stowed it away before turning to a half-orc in black plate armor. “Jouston, get the men ready to move out. We will reach Iso’Farsh by moonrise,” he ordered.

Amaranth: Cryptic
Slaying the dragon and gaining more questions than answers

48 Summer, 2979
Kya, Karsari Federation

The half human gave a deep bow and left the room in silence. He quickly made his way down the hall and headed to his meditation chamber. The room was simple, free of clutter and distractions. Only simple symbols dedicated to Winter adorned the walls which complimented his personal shrine to the Wyrm. Rivo gave a prayer to Winter as he entered and immediately moved over and knelt before the shrine.

The priest then withdrew a silver ritual knife from his robes and placed it on the shrine. He gave another prayer to bless the knife before undressing from his robes. He stood naked before the shrine, scars covering his body. He took hold of the blessed knife and began to carve symbols of the Winter Wyrm into his flesh. Blood began to flow freely from his chest, pooling down at his feet. The half human gave a content sigh and then ran his fingertips along the carvings in his flesh as he recited the words of a ritual.

Above the shrine, a vortex began to form. Small at first, it began to grow in size until it was roughly three feet in diameter. Within the vortex, a shape began to fade into view. A humanoid, dressed in wicked looking spiked armor of matte black stood, the visor down of his skull shaped helmet. Rivo gave a grin, “You are needed now my Lord. Retrieve the orb and let nothing stand in your way.”

Amaranth: Barren
Into the depths of the Arcanium Vitaeium Conjur

48 Summer, 2979
Kya, Karsari Federation

Rivo walked into the room of the robed figure with slow and measured steps. The room was a testament to the wealth and power of his lord. Ancient paintings, gold plated items, and silken drapes were all present in the lavish room. The half-human moved to the center of the room while the robed figure walked over to a desk and took a seat. His face was hidden behind a heavy cowl.

Rivo gave a bow of his head, “Your Excellence. A scout under Vormark reported that he had located one of the orbs in Iso’Farsh. The orb is on the college campus. The scout attempted to retrieve the orb, however, it is guarded by a dragon. The scout did not survive.

The robed figure was silent for several moments after Rivo stopped speaking. He then spoke, his voice deep and unnerving, “Send Lord Agdread and his men to the city to retrieve the orb.”

Amaranth: Assembly
Setting sail into adventure

48 Summer, 2979
Kya, Karsari Federation

Rivo silently shut the door to the altar room. Still clutching a folded piece of parchment in his hand, he quickly made his way down the hallway, careful to avoid the appearance of being rushed and disturbed. A few acolytes crossed his path at a intersecting hallway though they made no reaction to his presence. After turning down another hallway, the half-human came to a stop at a heavy oak door. The iron braces were new and shined in the torch light. He gave a several rhythmic knocks and then waited, the sweat from his palms made the parchments soft in his hand. Just when he thought no one would answer, the door was finally opened by a figure in a black and dark blue robe.

Rivo gave a deep bow of his head, “Your Excellence. Vormark has sent word.”

Prelude: Two Killers
In Which Vincent and Kang Become Acquainted

Written by zero and Jasper

“Pleased to meet you. Hope you guess my name,
But what’s puzzling you is the nature of my game."
-The Rolling Stones
“Sympathy for the Devil”

49 Summer, 2979

Vincent Noir entered the tavern quietly and scanned the crowd gathered within. He wasn’t certain exactly who he was looking for, but he trusted his senses to pick up on subtle telltale signs his contact might be providing. Aside from the gathered humans and partial humans, a pair of cushani had their own table. And then there was the giant with some sort of rocky protrusions jutting from his flesh sitting at the bar. Surely these noteworthy figures were adventurers hoping to secure a position with the expedition to Iso’Latarin. The assassin spent a few seconds sizing each of these up, and while he considered the giant, he saw something that surprised him. As the creature leaned back to gulp down another pitcher of ale, Vincent saw the light glint off its vicious fangs.


Prelude: Walk in the Dark
In Which Vincent Dismisses Insanity

Written by zero

“I was moving through the silence without motion, waiting for you
In a room with a window in the corner I found the truth."
-Joy Division

41 Spring, 2979

Vincent Noir stepped outside of the dusty tavern, the only tavern in the backwater that was Drev. He had kept the meeting with his contact short. The locals kept giving the tiefling – an arrogant creature answering to the dubious moniker “Shiv” – nervous glances as they sat in a dark corner and conversed in low voices. The assassin had kept his cowl up to avoid drawing attention, but that hadn’t seemed to help much. The gawking farmers and fishermen only seemed more intrigued. It was a reminder why he didn’t go on social engagements for the organization. Then again, the entire trip was a constant reminder of his apparent disfavor with the commander.