Rhysol

[Gillar]

Rhysol Rhysol is a name spoken by few and feared by many. It is the name given by mortals to all that is corrupted, twisted, chaotic and evil. It is the name given to the God of Evil. Rhysol is a twisted, unpredictable, and eternally dark and evil god who rules over all negativity. He constantly strives to consolidate his control over everything opposite of good and pure. Since the beginning of mortal existence, there have been lies, betrayal and corruption and through it all there has been Rhysol. Despised by every single deity in the pantheon of Mizahar, both good and evil, none can deny his power and influence over the world. In the heart of every mortal lies the potential for dark deeds. In the back of every mind a mysterious voice whispers thoughts and desires of betrayal and lies; of corruption and chaos, this is the voice of Rhysol. The Defiler appears to his followers in one of many forms. His favored are that of a tall, dark-haired man with milky white eyes devoid of pupils or irises or a black flame baring a humanoid shape. Rhysol holds power over betrayal, lies, chaos and evil with an iron fist. Not even the other gods and goddesses laying claim to the darker aspects of existence dare challenge his authority. Before the Valterrian, Rhysol held a moderate amount of power. As the living world thrived and prosperity flowed through the land, the threat of betrayal and lies was reduced and chaos was held at bay. Of course evil existed in many forms but it did not have the chance to fully ingrain itself into the lives of those who lived upon Mizahar. Of course that would not last and Rhysol knew this more better than anyone. It was He who sewed the seeds of betrayal when he opened the eyes of Emperor of Suva to his bride's impurity as an act of betrayal, inevitably causing the Valterrian. When this happened, Rhysol sat back and watched the fireworks. Following that, chaos reigned and with it Rhysol's influence grew exponentially. In the centuries after the Valterrian, many a mortal has turned to him for guidance as none know better the essence of chaos and ruin as the God who rules over it all. The most sacred of days are those where an eclipse occurs. At the height of an eclipse, the sun appears to turn black. During this time, Rhysol is known to walk the land spreading chaos and evil wherever he steps foot. Ironically, the day of the Valterrian was the day of an eclipse. Rhysol thirsts for power. If anything, he sees the new era as belonging to him. The fact that his greatest enemy, Sylir, is dead, provides him with the perfect opportunity to integrate himself into everything. Though a select few know, Rhysol was responsible for the death of Sylir during the Valterrian. While peace and civilization was threatened, Sylir turned his attention from Rhysol for but a moment. That was all that Rhysol needed to destroy his greatest foe. This attack did not go unanswered and before the God of Peace fell, he struck a mighty blow, preventing Rhysol from total domination of Mizahar. In the end, Sylir was destroyed, Rhysol was wounded, and the domain of Peace and Civilization was left shattered with none able to take up the mantle in Sylir's stead. Now, with the absence of Sylir, Rhysol and his religious order, The Black Sun work to tighten their grip over Mizahar and one day bring the Defiler to the position of God of Gods. Rhysol is an unpredictable god. He enjoys bringing about the downfall of mortals with promises of power and wealth. He shrouds himself in chaos to better hide his goals from those who would seek to undo them. He cares for none save those who exhibit the ideals he embodies. Thus anyone who embraces chaos, betrayal or who give themselves fully to him can expect his favor. Even then he has been known to do away with champions for unknown or insignificant slights. Rhysol is not a foolish god by any means. He realizes fully that without good there can be no evil and in the absence of purity, corruption will turn upon itself. Thus he maintains the idea that by enslaving purity and light he can maintain corruption inevitably. With every lie, every betrayal and every chaotic act, one is paying homage to Rhysol. Countless cults and organizations give worship and service to the Defiler however only one is recognized directly as his own. The Black Sun is a religious, militant order with their hands in every aspect of society. Led by, The Voice, the Black Sun seeks to further spread Rhysol's influence across the land. The maintain a powerful militant arm as well as a zealous religious following. Their influence spreads into various merchant houses and their touch is felt be all even if it is not realized.

[Styn]

It was dark outside, although never silent in the floating city. The quite sounds of moving water were especially pronounced as Styn bent down to fill a second bucket of water from the canal. Far from being stinking sewage, the water was perhaps the greatest bounty of Rhysol, a great gift to a city that barely deserved it. A fitting thing that he begin here then. "Acolyte Redding has charge of my spiritual guidance these days my lord Rhysol," Styn stated to the air. He was in Ravok after all, glory of Rhysol. The very air hummed with the feeling of chaos chained. Lately he was even more sensitive, gnosis mark tingling on the flat of his tongue where divine blood had changed him. "We spoke of my crucible, of my inability to find it in me to love you."

Styn hefted both buckets and made his way to the dimly lit inn he had exited mere moments before, continuing the conversation. His voice was that of someone speaking to someone who might be walking with him, neither whispered nor shouted. "He found my manifestation of your will interesting, almost curse like in its potency. I was immediately instructed to deepen my understanding of your nature. To contemplate the flaws within me that stop obedience short of reverence." Styn set both buckets down and twisted the iron handle that would turn the latch to the door and pushed it open. Placing his foot in the entryway he reached down to the buckets and with a grunt carried them into the inn. A tap of his foot sent the door swinging shut. A clever spring soon had it closed again.

At this time of night the common room was vacant except for a lone guard sitting in the corner. The Ebonstryfe Soldier made his way unchallenged up the stairs. There was a bell on the counter he could ring if he needed lodging for the night, the guard ensuring that the patrons above remained undisturbed. This was a particularly private place after all, built in such a way that one could not easily hear the goings on of other inhabitants. Perfect for the nights business. Not caring what the guard thought, Styn resumed his discourse as he climbed the stairs. "I've struggled for days to think of a way to get closer to you my lord Rhysol. Is not my body an able servant? Do I not follow as you would have me? Am I not a sword in your hand to cut at your foes? Must you have my mind as well? My heart?"

Styn reached the top of the staircase and turned immediately to enter another. His breath began to come a tad shorter. He had become soft in his years working as an interrogator, torturer really. Arms ached as he paused a moment to stare morosely at the next climb he would have to perform. "I have contemplated recently my lord, that maybe I am incapable of such things. Do I love the father who has shaped me? The sisters who have manipulated me? The brother who replaced me? The mother who guided me? Maybe I'm just not built to worship as you deserve. What does a soldier know of such things?"

Splashes of water from shaking buckets made small beads on the treated wood stairs. Everything had to be waterproofed in the floating city. Styn soon found himself, panting now, at the top of the second staircase. A few more steps now and he'd be back. "So I decided that I would worship as I live. I'm a man of action, I will understand you my lord Rhysol, through conflict. Conflict with myself, with others, with the world." The Ebonstryfe interrogator placed the buckets down outside a plain wooden door, opening it quickly he moved the water inside, against the wall. Closing the door behind him he reached up and latched it before turning to survey the contents of the room. "Thus do I seek to understand."

It was a plain room with a small bed. In the center of mattress was a naked woman, tied to the wooden frame of the structure. A smile tugged at her lips upon seeing Styn enter the room and she arched her back seductively. "Understand what? You ready for round two lover?" She tugged at the bonds playfully and licked her lips.

The woman's voice purred, but Styn doubted she had enjoyed herself as much as she was suggesting. He was neither well endowed or skilled at lovemaking, a fighter not a lover. Still, a full member of the Ebonstryfe had its own charm he supposed. It wasn't the first time women had come on to him, but it was one if the few instances where he had allowed something to come to fruition. Styn very much doubted that she would be as eager for round two. Ignoring the questions, Styn stalked to the bed and reached under it, pulling out a backpack. A quick search turned up the next object in this little game. The torturer turned over the wooden ball connected to leather straps, that was now cupped in his left hand.

The woman's brow furrowed with confusion, and a bit of uncertainty crept into her demeanor. A bit of kink was one thing, but this was getting weird. "What the hell is that?" she queried in what was likely her most honest reaction of the night.

Quick as a striking snake, Styn seized her jaw and pushed down firmly on a cluster of nerve endings. With a gasping moan, the woman's mouth opened, and was quickly forced apart even further by the wooden ball. She began to struggle at this point, eyes starting to tear up in fear. "Betrayal," Styn continued as hands flowed behind her head to synch the device into place. Smooth practiced motions soon had the gag in place. Just in time to catch the first hesitant scream. "A hard state of being to foster in a man with so few attachments, so little expectation. Then I had a thought lord Rhysol. What if I studied it in others?"

Styn took a moment to investigate his handiwork. Reaching into the backpack he pulled out a cloth hood, sized to a human head, with a draw string at the bottom to secure it. This moment was critical so the student of chaos took a few extra chimes to really let it sink in. The woman was ambitious to pursue him. The risk was thought to be minimal, a cold shoulder, a one night stand, indifference the payment for her venture. The gains potentially great, favor of one of the cities most powerful men, protection granted by association, status with those who maybe looked down on her. Surely this had never entered into her calculations. More then a betrayal of her trust, which might not have been that strong to begin with, this was a betrayal of her dreams. She had no idea.

Enshrouding the woman beneath a thin layer of cloth was the work of moments. As the shock wore off and true fear set in, her struggles became more frantic. Body straining, breath coming in sudden snorts. Smooth steps brought him to the buckets of water and it wasn't long at all before he stood before the bed, hefting one of the vessels. Droplets sloshed over the sides and the woman squirmed away from the cold wet sensation. "May your hand guide my own as it draws closer to you my lord." Slowly Styn began to pour the water over the woman's masked face. A deep keening filled the room but the gag, the cloth, and the well insulated walls would ensure they were not disturbed. Styn knew that the experience was similar to drowning, bits of moisture would seep through the cloth and the victim would inhale flecks of water. For a few chimes she would hold her breath, but the need to breath would force her to inhale through her nose. An orifice which was covered with cloth that would stick to her face like a second skin. More mist, chocking coughs fighting with wracking sobs.

Styn reached down pulling the cloth away from her face to allow air to enter through the gaps in the bottom the bag. We have all night, he thought almost sadly.

Bells passed. The water boarding completely broke her will, soon she lacked the energy to panic, to fight, to even care if she drowned or not. Styn reminded her that there were worse fates then quietly slipping into suffocation. Hands which once roamed her body to give pleasure now gave pain, these same clumsy digits suddenly found sickening grace. Pressure point to pressure point the fingers danced, until her whole body must be a bonfire of pain. Gut wrenching screams eventually forced Styn to remove the gag least she asphyxiate on her own vomit. It was done then, she looked into his eyes and Styn knew that she was ready to die. This then was his next betrayal.

Reaching down he untied her arms and legs, massaging feeling back into blood starved limbs. Grasping the hood caused a flinch which turned into confusion as he wiped the puke off her face. "Bless your student who studies at the altar of your power Lord Rhysol. Bless your servant who approaches you in the only way he knows how." Pausing Styn held the woman's dazed gaze and sighed. "Bless this woman who is closer to you now then I." Rising to his full height the Ebonstryfe Soldier walked to the door of the room and turned the handle, a voice stopping him at the exit.

"You're letting me go?" The woman wheezed, voice hoarse from screaming most the night away.

"Who will you tell?" Styn said with a wry smile and shrug. With a self disgusted shake he opened the door and was gone, leaving behind a disbelieving and emotionally exhausted citizen to go about their business. He felt soiled as he made his way down the stairs. Stained with his actions, and there it was, a final betrayal. It wasn't quite guilt, but part of his duties were to protect civilians who called Ravok home. He had acted against himself this night, even if he was within his rights to do so. What he had done had been wrong, a perversion of the powers invested in his position. A very Gaius thing to do. Embracing the self loathing the Soldier started his day off early. There was still a city to patrol after all.

[I'tram Bearguard]

67th of Spring, 513 AV

Just before I'tram loosed his arrow which would hopefully bring down an enemy of Ravok, aiming to injure or kill one of more guests of the Nitrozian party, the wealthiest and most powerful people in Ravok he managed to get a prayer in, dedicated of course to the one God he worshiped; Rhysol.

"Rhysol, I beg of you to give me the strength to endure the pain of this wound I bear in your name. Look down on me with your favour and guide my arrow so it flies true. Honor me with this gift my lord and I shall serve you until my final hour. Help me to protect your loyal citizens who have served you faithfully through the years.

He would have prayed much longer and have given offerings if possible but unfortunately time was not on his side and he needed to get the shot off. All he could do now was hope Rhysol had heard his prayer.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

Fall 4, 513 AV Valerius Nitrozian knelt in front of the altar in the Temple of Black Sun, on the marble floor. He was dressed entirely in black that evening so that he almost seemed to become one with the shadows around him. His eyes were closed, and he was completely still, as if he were a statue rather than a living breathing being. He didn’t want any outside sources and any of his other senses to distract him. He only wanted to feel Rhysol and Rhysol alone. „My lord“, he spoke. His voice was hardly more than a whisper, but he was convinced that Rhysol could hear him. „I am yours, and I have been yours since the day I was born. I am not weak, and I am not a coward. They tell me that I need to leave, that I need a change of perspective, but I’m not interested in any of that. I only want you, my lord, and I would do anything for you if you would only mark me and give me a chance to prove myself.“ „I don’t want to go to Nyka, to Mura and all those other places. I belong here. Have I not already shown that I’m dedicated to you? I was there when the Rising Dawn attacked. I protected my grandfather, one of your most dedicated followers. My research, my work at the Kelvic Research Institution, I do everything for you. Those doubts that I’ve occasionally voiced, they mean nothing. I was just a foolish child back then.“ „Even when I dream, I’m yours.“ He sat there a moment longer, lost in thought, and then he rose to his feet again. Sometimes he had other dreams as well, dreams where he had created a life outside of Ravok for himself, but he didn’t really want to leave. Sometimes he was tired of living in his family’s shadow, but he didn’t want to face the unknown. Life in Ravok was pleasant. He knew what was awaiting him here. He wanted to become Rhysol’s through and through, and then all the other feelings would just go away. He would become Rhysol‘s most dedicated servant.

[Annalisa Marin]

5th of Winter, 513 AV- The Quarters of Sahova

It was always there, resonating almost erotically with each heart beat. The mark over her heart, the place were His blood had touched her and marked her forever. It felt wonderful and terrible, to be reminded of that night when she was marked by the Lord of Lies. It was both her most painful moment and her most pleasurable one, when the overwhelming pain was replaced by the erotic feeling. One that had pleased her more that in a physical way, but in a spiritual sense. Recognition of worth, vindication of her deed.

Annalisa Marin kneeled upon the mat in her room in the Quarters, head bowed and hand on the bright scar over her heart. Celeste had been both right and wrong about her. She could change and the girl made her desire to change, but she was wrong in that Anna was a slave to Rhysol. After all the questioning it had taken being doused in his glory, attempting to fend off greater threats, to make her realize that the dream about the Voice had been right. She wanted the power that Rhysol granted, she wanted to spread chaos and lies. Deep down she wanted to betray those who were close to her, to expose their weakness to the world.

Likely Rhysol had always known that this would be the outcome, her faith returning to him. In a way it had never left, she could no more deny that part of herself than she could the cycle of night and day. He'd known she would come to her senses, he had to have. Tonight she dispelled the question's once and for all, reaffirming her choice to worship He Who Lies. It was indeed her willing choice.

When she spoke her voice was soft and low, still a little paranoid that someone was listening.

"Rhysol, Father of Lies, Betrayal, and Chaos I fear I have grievously wronged you. I have questioned my faith in you, I who accepted your mark willingly and knowingly. Yet in that questioning I feel as though my faith is strengthened, reaffirmed" Anna began, feeling the slow beat of her heart under the scar.

"I do not feel anger or resentment towards the one who cast it all into doubt, Celeste Arumen, for she opened my eyes to weakness which I have corrected. For that she has my thanks. For that she shall have my friendship and all that it entails." The tall woman intoned.

She meant every word of that, Anna did indeed like Celeste and bore her no ill will. She owed the child for far more than pointing out the weakness of her faith, if not for her she wouldn't have cause to be willing to drop some of her guard. She would be alone on Sahova, which was now thankfully not the case. An attachment, but one she saw no reason to deny herself.

"For my sin against your Divine Being I place myself at your mercy and I give you a vow. Should it be broken I ask that you take this blessing you have granted me and turn it into a torment." The sorceress intoned

"Never again shall I falter in my faith to you. Never again will I question your motivations or your desires. Should you demand blood from me, I will bleed. Should you demand flesh I will carve it out to your pleasure. Your enemies are my enemies, your wish my command. All the power I might gain in this life will be used to spread your influence. I will show others your glory and your power or destroy them. This I swear before you, this oath sworn upon the blessing you have granted me. Upon my very soul." Anna said, every word resolute in its hushed quality.

The tall woman opened her eyes and suddenly felt a weight lift from her heart, the words having felt like they cleansed her spirit of weakness. Of course mere words would not be sufficient, actions were needed and Anna was certainly nearing a position when her actions would spread his glory. Yes, tomorrow was a new day. One that had the promise of giving her many chances to display her renewed faith in her Lord and Master.

[Annalisa Marin]

24th of Winter 513 AV- The Palsa Hydrasa

It was nearly time, tomorrow was the day where her struggles finally came to a head and all of her time on Sahova was either made worthless or she rose above and thrived as never before. This was the time for final preparations, to ready herself mentally and spiritually for the task that laid ahead of her. Not through creating mundane weapons made from Glyphing, but through the matters of faith, praying to her lord and master the Defiler himself.

Anna held her dagger in her right hand, kneeling on the floor of her room in the Palsa Hydrasa. Her black hair was loose about her head and she was naked as the day she was born, the scar over her heart born proudly and without fear. Amaryllis already knew of her allegiances so she was hardly shy about her faith, reveling in it as she always had and seeking the Defiler's approval above all. Rhysol was the only one that had really seen something within her, offering a piece of his divine essence to her. She owed him everything.

She would need his strength with her in the Heartlands, though it fell to her to carry out his will as he did not wish for weak followers. Still, it would be folly not to seek his favor before the journey, pity she hadn't saved that prisoner girl for today. Such an act was something Rhysol would favor, unfortunately all she could offer was of herself. It would have to be enough for now.

"Rhysol, Lord Defiler, I kneel before you as merely a humble servant in your eyes, willing and eager to carry out your holy will. I go into the Heartlands tomorrow, a place none have returned from. I go to advance myself and place myself in a position better suited to carry out the spreading of Chaos and Betrayal on Sahova." Anna started.

"I go into this place with the Initiate Celeste Arumen at my side. Mayhaps it will be that I am called upon to spill her blood in a betrayal most resounding. If it comes to that I ask for only this." The tall woman said, raising her blade.

She placed the cool tip on her left cheek and pressed down just enough to break the skin and draw blood. A trickle of crimson liquid traveled down the blade and across her cheek, a small line of flesh being cut into. She hissed slightly from the pain, her hand hesitating ever so slightly in its travel but it did not stop until the line was cut. This task accomplished she held the blade out.

"Let this blade travel straight and true with not an ounce of hestitation or remorse. Let it travel through flesh and bone and blood and find Celeste's beating heart that I may offer it to you, Lord Rhysol. Let that betrayal resound through the halls of all the divine, to make them fear your name." Anna intoned.

"Let it do so and I will harvest for you a bounty on Sahova. I will show these undead what real power is and have them fall upon their knees at your glory. This island and all upon it will be yours if it takes the last breath in my body to bring it about. This is my promise to you, my Lord Father, he who has granted purpose where there was none." Anna finished, bowing low her head as though she were standing before her master.

[Annalisa Marin]

30th of Spring, 514 AV. A vacant room in the Sahovan Quarters.

Rhysol. The only one that had ever actually seen any worth in Anna, the only one that had ever been truthful to her ironically enough. The god that had looked within her and had seen potential to be fostered, her god and the only one she looked to for guidance. He was her father, her teacher, her master, Rhysol was Anna’s everything in this life and no one could argue that in some sick manner her faith was anything other than pure and absolute. The path he had set her upon had been rocky and difficult; her mind had wandered far afield once but never again. Rhysol was her everything.

The tall sorceress knelt alone in a vacant room in the Sahovan Quarters, not her own but it would suffice for her purposes this night. Edreina was not yet far enough in her power to look upon the faith displayed towards Rhysol, soon, but not yet. The door behind her was shut and the room’s only was basin was before her, filled with water she herself had created through reimancy and to serve her in tonight’s ritual. She was bare chested, hair splaying down her head freely with only her trousers to grant modesty. The bright red scar over her chest was displayed proudly and prominently.

There was a vial of crimson fluid beside the wash basin, another necessary accessory in her little ritual of faith here tonight. She believed that Rhysol would hear her no matter where she was; the master of chaos was always watching as she held a sliver of his divine essence upon her. Her head was bowed, her mind running through the words of her unholy prayer and feeling on her faith to her god. Her stomach growled slightly, and her lips felt parched but soon she would feast upon her god’s bounty of faith. With that, she began.

“Rhysol, Lord Defiler, Father of all Chaos and Lies. I kneel here before you as but a supplicant, unworthy to look upon your visage once again. I speak to you from the heart you set free, over which is the holy mark you have granted me in your benevolence.” Anna murmured, her voice a whisper.

Her hand reached to the tiny vial, borrowed from the Common Labs and filled with her own blood. She uncorked the small thing and dribbled the crimson liquid into the wash basin, the water slowly turning color as well. This was the next step, the blood of one marked by chaos corrupting the undiluted waters created by reimancy. It was normal to set aside an hour each day for prayer and meditation, but today she had opted to break from routine to try something new. After all, was a wizard not supposed to experiment? Such things carried to matters of faith as well.

“Long seasons have I stayed upon Sahova, and long shall I remain here no doubt. I made you a promise, to deliver Sahova into your fold and I shall keep it. I renew that pledge and oath here tonight.” Anna continued low, dipping her left hand into the tainted water and running it down her right arm.

“You have sent me signs that I am upon the right path, Clyde Sullins, a fellow Chaon has joined me here on the island. Word had reached me of your holy city of Ravok, a world away but I feel a draw whenever I hear its name. You have provided my faith with these signs, when you needn’t have. For that I praise your holy name a thousand times, and then a thousand times again.” Anna intoned, dipping her right hand in and running it down her left arm.

“I expect no rewards, I expect no praise, and I expect no words of approval from you, my lord and master. I only ever desire this feeling my faith in you gives me, I wish it to fill me up and give me that sustenance that no bread or water can ever give me. I drink only of my faith in you today; I feast only upon the chaos and corruption you have given me. That is all I need, it is all I will ever need. Praise be.” Anna finished, cupping both hands into the blood tainted water and raising it to her lips.

The dark haired woman drank deeply of the liquid, the taste of iron faintly upon it as it was guzzled down her throat in long greedy gulps. Reddish liquid streamed down her cheeks, and Anna simply dipped her hands in again and drank again as she savored the cool liquid. It felt right to her, her mind felt less clouded by doubts or fears for this little minor ritual. A self-cleansing exercise in Rhysol’s holy name and one Anna indulged in whole heartedly.

[Clyde Sullins]

4 Winter 514- The Sullin's Residence, Lab Space- Ravok Prayer... Prayer was not something Clyde did often. An occasional prayer here and there, a sign of devotion. Clyde however preferred more physical signs of worship, preferring things other than idle words. Anyone could say they were devoted or followed someone, but the true believers showed such things. Neither did he pray for assistance, or the help of Rhysol. He surely had enough of such needy followers, and would prefer at least a few who knew how to take care of themselves, and who didn't only call to him when they were in trouble. So it was on this day that Clyde found himself launching into an odd prayer to Rhysol, without a particular need, without a particular plan for the prayer, instead simply letting it be as it would be. “Dear Rhysol... This is Clyde. Clyde Sullins. You marked me awhile back now, the summer before last. Since then well... I've been busy. Became a Stryfe. I went to Zeltiva, got involved in a plot there, sort of my own invention. A mage weapon. Ended up sending it to Syliras via a caravan. I ended up going to Sahova. Became an apprentice. Became a Wizard. Became an ambassador. Met some people that might be working for you, or who at least showed me some signs that said they might be.” Clyde paused for a moment, shrugged to himself, and then spent a few moments regathering his thoughts, finding his place. “Anyways, funny enough they want me to be an ambassador to Ravok, the city I came from before all this started. Ironic eh? Or not ironic? Maybe I don't understand that word too well... Whatever, its a bit funny, I'm sure you've got a sense of humor, at least one of some sort.” “I got back to Ravok. Oh! And it turns out that earlier plot, my mage weapon thing! It worked! Went off at the gates of Syliras, I just heard about it. I'm sure you've known for awhile, heck you were probably watching the fireworks the entire time. Petching looting in Syliras! Can you believe it? My mage weapon, my little plot of times past, did its job, went off at Syliras, and petching ended up causing death, destruction, and petching looting in the city of peace, and on a grand scale! I bet too many people can't say something they did caused that! Honestly I'd almost given up on it, almost forgotten it what with all the other stuff I'd gotten sent to do.” “Crazy. I'll be honest, it went a bit better than I'd expected or even hoped for. Syliras, where I was born and raised, where I was looked down on by those snooty knights. I don't generally enjoy killing or such things, but I've got to admit it feels a bit good to shove the very thing the knights looked down on me for back in their faces. Of course I guess its a bit easier to feel detached from your own actions when you don't directly do them, and when the actual event is so far away from you in terms of time and space.” “Actually I think my plot, the mage weapon thing, might have interacted with another plot, not sure who's. But in the end what happened happened, and it served you. Threw those knights out of their regular order, their assurance that they are safe inside of their big stone walls. Their so sur of their own superiority, and their safety. And then a simple little package in a chest comes rolling up, delivered by a few guys in a caravan, and boom, its all chaos.” “Funnily enough by the time I heard about it all, I was already back in Ravok. Working on some new stuff now, on behalf of the whole Sahova ambassador thing. I guess I'll see where that all leads. Still, I think you've already got a few people placed there, a few feelers spread out. I just need to plant a few more, and see what grows.” Clyde paused for a moment, wondering what else to say. “So... Guess that's it for a status report. Things moving about as smoothly as they can. Haven't even had anyone try to kill me in a few seasons. At least not anyone where I was in any real danger. Praise Rhysol. I'll do my best to see the logic in the chaos, and to make chaos of the logic, in your honor.”

[Orakan]

--

[Liriope]

2nd of winter Liriope sat calmly, her hands resting on her legs and her eyes shut tight. A peaceful and serene look on her face. Anyone who had seen the Konti would have thought she was meditating, or praying to Avalis, or some similar god. She had chosen to pursue religion and prayer recently, after deciding her life needed something, more. Her life had definetly been interesting, as she had surrounded herself with people who entertained her. She had never prayed before, except when her parents had her do it as a young child. Muttering under her breath, she spoke in a light and amused tone, one that her voice naturally was when she didn't mask it. "Hello, Lord Rhysol, I don't have anything specific to ask of you, at least, not yet." She paused for a moment, considering what to say now. "I wish to follow your path of darkness, chaos, and evil. I would like your guidance, to a path of destruction, and I'm sure whatever I end up achieving would please you, greatly " Liriope took a breath, and grinned as she spoke, her tone now malicious, and amused. "Thank you, Lord Rhysol, let me bring more darkness to this world." She finished her prayer, a light and peaceful smile now gracing her face where the malicious grin had just been.