Bik Britelite

Re: Fantasy Imperium?

Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus Latest installment. We returned to Sigil through the very gate we left. The sudden emergence gave my stomach pause, but the lack of any food eased the transition of gate travel. The shop keeper was startled at the sudden appearance of people behind his counter and he stood as if to protest. When he realized that we were the same people who entered the portal a while ago, he immediately sat down and shut up. Only Christoph gave him any notice and again apologized for our intrusion. Rolling my eyes again, I entered the street to wait for the others. Once we had all made it outside on the street it was decided that we would meet at the Slags, three bells before peak. I had only made a few steps when Brill came up to me and asked for work, more specifically, work when we returned from Rauxes. I seem to attract more filth the longer I stay in Sigil, but I informed Brill, “If you take my gold, then you do my jobs.” He nodded an agreement and then began looking around at Sigil, as his head moved upward and the realization of the city and its oddities, he grew pale. They all do. I went home to await the mornings departure to Rauxes. The evening went by slowly, the time spent reading my new tome and looking at the banner. It was hard to believe this simple looking banner was so powerful. The black silk hanging limply from the cross bar, looked like any other piece of silk. Eventually I nodded off, the exhaustion from the days of walking in the sand finally over taking me. There were no dreams this time but I did sleep for a few hours, the most I had ever done since arriving here in Sigil fifteen years ago. I left for the Slags early that morning, deciding not to use the banner to channel the power of Nehrull into my armor. The journey was difficult as carrying the banner and my scythe did not allow for me to lean on either for support. By the time I had reached the slags, I was exhausted, my body covered in sweat. Finding a stone slab to sit on I decided to wait there for the others to arrive. There are rumors of a creature that inhabits the slags, a prankster and killer. If there was something living there it did not show itself to me while I rested there for more than a hour. Either the rumors were false, or the banner kept it away I do not know, or care. I was thankful for the seat and the rest. As the bells were chiming I saw the others approaching as a group. My guess was they went to the Black Bird for breakfast before leaving. Pathos was again in good spirits, and talking loudly with Crux who feigned interest. Christoph on the other hand was intently listening to the story, looking like a child on his fathers knee. As we gathered up, Pathos handed everyone a brass ring. This was the key needed to open the gate to enter Rauxes. The gate was located further in the Slags, and was a sewer grate. During the walk to the grate, Pathos explained that Rauxes was a city that was torn away from its home plane during the blood wars and was ruled by a mad king, or something like that. I was not interested in the story or its back history, I only wanted to get the banner to General Pyrannden. We eventually found the grate and it took Marv’s great strength to lift the grate so we could enter. There was no ladder down into the sewer, and I could see standing water six feet below me deep in the hole. I turned to look at Pathos, and everyone did the same. He just gave the toothy grin and jumped into the hole. He disappeared and never hit the bottom of the sewer. Brill immediately followed once we realized how it worked and one by one, we fell through the gate. The emergence on the other side was smoother. We did not land as I expected to, but instead stepped out onto a street. Turning to look at where we came from I saw that we stepped out of a door frame. As people stepped through the portal, the area inside the door frame would bend outward resembling water on a calm lake after dropping a stone in it, their form pushing into this plane. Rauxes, the Fallen City, was in ruins. Not one structure was undamaged. Walls had collapsed either from fires or lack of support. The sky was a dull grey, no clouds, not even a sun or moon. I heard no birds, nor did I see one flying in the sky. Brill began to climb up one of the walls to look around and get a bearing of our location. Christoph, not wanting to climb but wanting to look around as well, had Marv toss him up into the air. Somewhere around the third story Chistoph latched onto a window sill and looked back down in terror at Marv, who was smiling back up at Christoph. Brill helped Christoph into the room as he had just finished his climb to the top. Not wanting to lose the location of the gate, as the doorway looked like many of the others I could see, I grabbed a piece of burned wood and used the charcoal to mark the gate area. By the time I had finished that, Brill and Christoph yelled down that a large fortress was to the north. Knowing that my reward would be in some park I asked if they could see one. They shook their heads and said the only real structure was the large fortress to the north. We moved out of the small side street we were in to a main street that looked to head towards the fortress. As we began our trek a sudden pillar of fire appeared off to the east, so Brill and Christoph ran off to see what it was while the rest of us resumed our march. Brill and Christoph returned a minute later to report that there were four giants of fire and several large insectoid looking hounds as big as a horse in the area. It was then the others noticed the large creature flying in the sky with a rider on its back. As it approached the area where the pillar of fire was an alarm bell started to sound in the fortress. Seconds later three more large flying creatures with riders entered the sky. It was at that point that everyone found a shadow or some rubble to hide near, except for me and Rhage. Rhage just stood there because we had stopped moving and no one had told him/it to do anything else. I on the other hand whispered a prayer to Nehrull and fell to the ground in pain. Blood shot out of my armor from the back as the armor started to split open. Two large spikes began to emerge where my shoulder blades were and after extending out of my back the armor sealed back up around the two appendages. For several seconds they began to grow and pulse growing fatter as time progressed. After several seconds the appendages burst open sending blood and ichor in every direction, and the newly formed wings began to unfurl. Still weary from gift, I stood and retrieved both the banner and my scythe. The wings were finished growing but it took several seconds to become comfortable flexing them. During this time the alarm had not abated and there were now several horsemen leaving the fortress. I overheard someone saying they bore the mark of a clenched fist holding several arrows, their horses having hooves of fire. Knowing this to be the mark of Hextor, and that I was told by Lord Nehrull to give the banner to a Hextor follower, General Pyrannden, I decided that I would head directly to the fortress. As those around me positioned themselves for battle with the giants and hound creatures, I whispered another prayer to Lord Nehrull and was filled with the rush of power from the armor. As the armor became engulfed in the black flames I leapt into the air, the great wings easily lifting my bulk. There were a few cries of my name from some of the men, I don’t remember who, but I ignored them and continued on my way towards the fortress. One of the flyers high above noticed me, and moved to intercept me. As he got closer, the image of my scythe, the armor covered in black flames, and the banner gave him pause. Instead of attacking he guided the great beast alongside me. “I am Typhus. Herald of Nehrull and I seek General Pyrannden.” I shouted above the sound of beating wings. He nodded slowly and pointed towards the fortress. Then turned his attention to the giants and hounds and flew off. As I resumed my flight I noticed that the horsemen were still pouring from the fortress, as there were now easily a hundred cavalry in full plate with lances heading down the road to the giants. When I came to the wall of the fortress I could see that more men were manned here. All equipped in plate armor, with shield, spear, sword, and crossbow. Not wanting to be shot down, I decided to land on the fortress wall and await a guard captain. While waiting I noticed that a very tall man, wrapped in cloth on a far tower cast a spell towards a giant down in the streets below. The magic struck the giant and knocked it sideways, leaving a charred black scar along its hide, and small tendrils of electricity still moving along the side of the wound. But the giant regained his feet and resumed the attack on the horsemen. Returning my attention to the men in front of me, I noticed that none of them spoke. There were no jeers or cheers for their brethren below. They just scanned the horizon, almost like an automaton. I decided that since I hadn’t been attacked yet my entry into the courtyard proper would be allowed, so I once again took flight. The courtyard was full of more men, and more horses with hooves of fire. All of them were quiet and mounting up for battle. I landed on the far side of them, nearest the largest building which would house the king, and this General Pyrannden. The two guards stationed outside were equipped with halberds and they were crossed in front of the door, barring my entrance. So again I announced my name, and who I bore the message for, but there was no reaction. I stood there, waiting for what seemed an eternity, angry at these two men. I wanted to kill them for their insolence at making me wait. My only restraint was that I was doing this for Lord Nehrull, and to anger my host would cause my Lord to loose face, something that I did not want to happen. So I stood there and fumed. As I noticed the others arriving through wicket in the fortress gate, the guards pulled there halberds aside and nodded. Moving through the main doors I walked down a long hallway, adorned with two great tapestries, one on each wall. Both showed of the constant war that raged here and for the most part, I ignored the wall hangings. The hallway opened into a great room with windows all around, a few guards, and a throne on which a drooling old man sat. As he saw the banner he began a cackling laugh that evolved into a wheezing cough. From behind the throne stepped two men. One of the men was obviously General Pyrannden, a large man, armored in a deep red plate with the symbol of Hextor on his shield. The tattered black robes and the holy symbol of Nehrull around the neck of the other man marked him as a priest of Nehrull. The priest, looked at the banner, smiled and turned to me, “Greetings brother.” he spoke and nodded. I nodded to the priest, turned towards Pyrannden, extended the banner and said, “I am Typhus. I have been given a task by my Lord, Nehrull, to give you this gift. The Black Banner of Rage.” Pyrannden grinning took the banner from me and gave me his thanks. Several guards entered into the room carrying three large urns, two of which contained the other Black Banners of Nehrull. When all three urns were set down, Pyrannden walked over to the empty urn and with a proclamation made to the gods, “The time has come for vengeance on Iuz and those who have opposed us for so long. Rauxes has returned from the Planes and the armies of Hell will march forth from the Fallen City to claim the souls of Greyhawk.” As the Banner of Rage slid into place next to its brothers a rumble through the ground and shock wave that moved through the air proclaimed a new era for the city of Rauxes. It was then that the room became brighter. As we all turned to look at the windows we could see blue sky, and white clouds. It would appear that Rauxes is no longer a missing city among the planes, but has returned to its home plane, much to the detriment of the nearby communities. Looking at the priest, I said, “My task here is finished.” I nodded, turned and left. The chosen of Nehrull turned and followed, as did Lilith and Brill, Marv was looking around waiting for something, my assumption is gold. Christoph was talking with General Pyrannden but quickly caught up. On my flight in, I had noticed a large park just off the road near the fortress so after leaving the fortress I made my way there. Upon entering I was assaulted with the same feeling I get when traveling through the gate, yet this was a more sinister, ominous feeling not because of disorientation. Once the feeling had passed I noticed a large black obelisk in the park. It had four sides, wider at its base than the top, and was easily eight feet across at the base and stood 30 feet tall. Thousands of screaming faces were carved into the stone, a painful and silent testament to the years of war in the Fallen City. As we stood and admired the stone, the priest of Nehrull appeared along with General Pyrannden, two guards and the drooling king. The priest moved past us, quietly issuing a prayer to Nehrull, and placed six green gems into the mouths of six of the faces. After a few more prayers he turned and nodded to Pyrannden, who withdrew a large sword from its scabbard. The guards forced the king to his knees, and Pyrannden said, “Your reign ends today!” He then brought the sword down and easily separated the head from the kings shoulders. The blood flying everywhere managed to hit the obelisk, me and several others. The remaining blood was slowly being absorbed into the ground as the body laid there and twitched. Pyrannden reached down, picked up the head and touched it to the Blood Shield of Hextor then handed the head to the priest. When I turned to look back at the obelisk, the blood had disappeared off its surface. The priest took the head of the now dead king and touched it to the surface of the stone. Slowly the skull was absorbed into the stone and a new screaming face appeared, one with a crown. The priest then withdrew the green stones from the obelisk and handed one to all of us, even Rhage. With reward in hand, I turned and left for the gate. I overheard Christoph ask if Crux and Pathos would like to go and look at a tower, to which they agreed. Only Brill followed along quietly, looking for someone or looking for someone to kill. Along the way I allowed the wings to die. Slowly the wings turned grey, fell off and turned to ash, the armor resealing itself where the holes once were. Eventually making my way back to the gate was easy, especially with the markings I had left like bread crumbs to direct me back. Thankfully the brass ring still opened the portal, as I was concerned with the shift back to its rightful plane may cause the gate to malfunction or become unusable. As I stepped through though, I cursed. I was now standing in four feet of stale sewage with no way out. Moving down to the right and left of the sewer I could tell that the only way out was through the hole in the top of the sewer. Brill who also appeared through the gate looked a little upset at his now ruined clothes. Since the distance was to high for me to jump, not that I would try, and the fact that my wings were now gone, not that they’d work in such a small space I had to figure a way out. So with a prayer to Nehrull, the armor again filled me with power and once again became engulfed in the black flames. Using my scythe like a hook through the hole, I climbed up the haft into the Slags. I turned to see if Brill could manage and saw he now had a small rope with grapple ready and was just waiting for me to move. So I left and went home to clean the armor out and discover what the stone could do.

Re: (Sigil Campaign)Record of Brill By jove, I think he's got it! Interesting backstory. I wonder if they are priest of Nehrull? Hmmmm. That could be a fun evening, me killing the priests of my god. Just to protect an asset I want to keep around. I imagine that the Hater of Life would gladly accept their lives just as he accepts others. The walking through cave ins old man . . . another interesting plot twister. So many possibilities. Sweet.

Re: [sigil Campaign] The Ranger's Tale

Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus Here's the latest update of the journal. Other than a spell check and a quick go over its still a little rough. But not to bad. The journey to the battleground where the Black Banner of Fear was lost took us deep into the desert of Carceri. The guide explained the journey should take the better part of the day, unless we run into the Blood War. The ever persistent battle between the demons and devils left entire planes in ruins. Carceri has its fair share of those battles, but usually they happen in the desert, away from the gate towns like Curst, and kept out of the cities like the Bastion of Last Hope. The sand here was of a large grit, the fragments of stone were sharp. The pieces that did manage to bypass most of my armor stung, but the sensation was quickly dulled by the ever present healing powers granted by my lord Nehrull’s armor. Along the way we found the corpses of conscripts in the blood war. Humans and other races were scattered across the desert, the bones already beginning to show white from the constant scouring of the blowing sands. The guide, Brill, proclaimed this as a new battle site, although from its size his guess was a skirmish. The bodies though numbered into the thousands. Again I found my attention drawn to Marv. Doubt again showing itself as no creature could fight in wars of this scale and continually live. Having witnessed Marv’s healing abilities I began to wonder if it was on par with what my lords armor provided me. The carnage did not seem to phase Marv at all, not that I would expect it to. He and the others looked through the bodies for remnants of loot, coin or anything worth retrieving. A few items of Blood iron were found and tossed into bags. Crux explained that the Blood iron was a lower planar metal that was enchantable and capable of wounding lower planars. I may have to retrieve a dagger or spear head of this iron. The idea of shaving it down to a finite powder to add to some of my potables was noted for further study. We rested many times that day, the sun and sand slowing our movement over its inhospitable landscape. The sand that did make its way into my armor did not hurt anymore, but the slowly filling boots required constant dumping as that did make walking uncomfortable. I was not the only one irritable during the journey. Late in the afternoon, we started coming across the corpses of long dead creatures. Every imaginable race seemed to have died here during a battle. Brill said that we were now at the battle ground. The bodies of old corpses shoved aside to make way for the new bodies. It would appear the blood war rages at this location often as some of the bodies were fresh, where others were nothing but scoured bones in the sands. As we proceeded into the battle ground further the bodies got larger and in some cases fresher. Off in the distance the corpse of some giant lizard dotted the landscape, large enough to look like a landmark on this featureless plane. Scurrying around the base of the dead creature were smaller creatures. Even at this distance Arrum could see what they were, “Hordlings.” he spat the word in disgust. The creatures were the size of a man, covered in a chiton with the tail of a scorpion. They had not noticed us yet as their attention was focused on the ground. As we approached we could tell they were moving about collecting items from the fallen and returning them to a pile of goods. “Its a fair bet that if the banner was here, they may have it in the pile.” Crux shouted to us over the wind. “Then I suggest we start our search there,” I replied. Then with my whispered prayer to Nehrull complete the armor became engulfed in the black flames. Taking the cue, Marv and the others began moving quickly forward, using the bodies of the fallen as cover to try and get as close as possible without being seen. The elf moved over to a body, laid down and laid his staff across the body and began sighting down its center. The distance being almost 600 feet away did not seem to give the elf pause, pulling his cloak about him he seemed to disappear into the landscape. An interesting weapon this staff. Continuing my march forward, I only managed to outpace the wizard dragging his bag and Toxas. The lizard and cart moved slowly forward. The hordlings did notice us eventually. Either the cart or Marv being the reason for the sudden chatter and moving to intercept us. My gaze was on the pile of goods just a few feet from the body of the dead lizard. While the battle would rage on, I would find the banner and make my escape. As it turns out I never made it to the pile. Long before I reached the others who were already engaged in combat with the creatures an imp suddenly appeared in front of me dragging the standard with him. I looked down at the small creature, never having seen one this close, his only weapon a small club. The standard was some fifteen feet long, with a seven foot banner made of black silk. The imp could barely lift one end. Looking at me the imp lifted the end up as high as it could and said, “Here.” Snatching at the pole I asked, “Who are you?” to which the imp simply vanished. I hefted the standard up and once I had made a reasonable purchase I turned and left. This was most definitely the prize I sought, as I could feel the power of Nehrull move through me as I carried the standard. The flames of the armor seemed thicker, more powerful, I almost felt young again. The banner itself radiated darkness out into the distance. Grinning, I moved away from the sounds of the battle. A scream announced the arrival, or death of something large but I did not turn back, instead marching on towards my prize. It wasn’t until a minute later that I noticed that my armor still was in flames, the power not ebbing like it always does. The banner seemed to amplify and continue its abilities longer than they should be able to. I eventually became aware of the female, Lilith and her meat shield following close behind. It wasn’t until I passed the elf and realized that he too was now in tow that the sounds of battle had stopped. The elf proclaiming to me that perhaps we should wait on the others. I turned to see how many of the members were trying to catch up and to see if any were dead. Sadly, all of them seemed to make it. Even at the distance that I was at I could tell that some of them were a little “damaged.” I could hear Pathos laughing with Arrum about some detail of the fight, the words lost on the wind. Arrum did not look pleased but nodded at the end of discussion. Seeing that it would take a few minutes for them to catch up and since we were far enough away from the battle that we could set up a camp for the night here rather than continue on, I looked at the elf and said, “fine.” The standard had a spiked bottom and top. One I imagine for impaling the ground, the opposite end for impaling others. Since we would be setting up a camp, I decided to plant the standard where we had stopped. As I shoved the Banner of Fear into the sand, it seemed to drive itself deeper than it should have. As if it desired to be planted. The moment it had the wind died down around us and the black silk of the banner snapped as a sail would on a ship when catching the wind. I then could feel a tremor radiate outward from the standard, and then a slight rumbling of the ground beneath our feet began. Lilith immediately cried in protest, the elf withdrew a sword that I had not seen him wield before that emitted a high pitch hum of its own. The others stopped coming closer and looked around for danger. Looking around I noticed the bodies of fallen warriors hidden by the sand pulling themselves out of the earth and standing upright. Nothing but skeletons now, armed with whatever was on their person when they died, they moved towards the banner forming into rows. Looking like soldiers at a parade ground they stood there, like Rhage, but staring with lifeless eyes at the Banner of Fear. With a sneer I addressed them, “Protect.” With the order given the skeletons moved outward in a cover formation intent on doing the others that had lagged behind harm. Marv seeing the threat set down a large bag of loot and readied his axe. Laughing out loud I yelled, “Halt!” to which the skeletons did as I commanded. Sensing the danger had passed, the others quickly moved towards us avoiding the weapons reach of the skeletons. Once all were near the banner, I again yelled for them to “Protect.” This time the skeletons moved outward, remaining in the darkness of the banner and set up a picket line. Pathos was the only other individual smiling and between hacking looked and said, “Nice toy.” Then flashing his grin sat down heavily in the sand. As I too turned to find a place to sit and rest I noticed that the weight of the armor had returned, and the flames had ceased. No longer holding the banner my power had ended. Suddenly off to one side a bright light formed and looking in its direction I noticed Christoph holding an ornate silver looking short sword with runes etched along its blade. The light emanating from the sword and its runes was trying to push the darkness of the banner back but failing to do so. I was about to yell at Christoph when I saw Crux approach and heard him tell Christoph to hold the sword out, away from his body. Crux withdrew Bane and moved the blade close to Christophs and a deep crackling vibration seemed to form that I could feel in my chest. I could see Christophs hand shaking from the vibration, but Cruxs hand was steady. Eventually Crux sheathed Bane and said, “You have a blade of power. If it wasn’t broken it would be a great weapon.” Christoph just stared at it, no longer shaking from the more powerful Bane’s power. “Put it away!” I growled to Christoph. I did not like the sword one bit, and I certainly did not like the sword this close to the banner. I doubt that it could do anything, but I was going to take no chances. Christoph immediately sheathed the weapon but found his hand wandering to its pommel all night long. Occasionally he would withdraw the blade a few inches and then immediately shove it back into the scabbard. As we prepared the camp, Brill told us to be on guard as the night was more lively because the creatures of the area would operate during the cooler night. As the sun seemed to set the temperature did drop significantly, and although the others piled more winter clothing onto themselves, my brothers and I were fine. The night though was uneventful as the banner seemed to keep everything at bay during the night. Crux and Pathos then explained to the others what the next leg of the journey entailed. The idea of going into an active blood war battle did not seem to sit well with the others, only my brothers and I looked forward to it. Well, maybe Marv to some extent, he does love using his axe. In the morning we resumed our march back to Curst so that we could reenter Sigil and then head through a gate there to Rauxes, the Fallen City.

Re: Ritterschlag Bahaha, that was good. Felt bad for the Blue knight though. I mean, damn, it fell off. Oh and using Dashboard, German to English translator, Ritterschlag means Knight Impact. Just an FYI.

Re: [sigil Campaign] Typhus That's "Mr. Suck-Up" to you monkey boy!

Re: Fantasy Imperium? Wow, discussions including HARN. Boy does that bring back memories. Spend hours setting up your character and roll to learn you start the game with a loincloth and the family potato. Kidding aside, it does sound interesting to read, but I have not heard anything about the game yet. I imagine I will, our local store is rather good at aquiring material.

I am making this post for several reasons. 1) Because I really like playing this guy and I would like to share a little more of him with other forum junkies like myself. 2) It has been asked by some to post powers and items that have been created so others could “borrow” them. 3) I am always looking for some input on how to shave points, fix glaring errors on my part, and/or so others could post ideas that I may incorporate into Typhus. So without further ado, I present Typhus. (189 points, unless my math is off . . . again.) Physical description: Typhus is a haggard looking man. When his helmet is off, his rotting skin with patchwork facial hair, and long stringy hair is overwhelming to look at. Typhus is usually slumped over from the weight of the armor. He wheezes as he breathes and has a raspy old voice. Height: 6’ 2” Weight: 168 lbs. Race: Human, Telphanian Sex: Male Age: unknown. Typhus does not openly wear a holy symbol to his god, Nehrull. His reasoning is, “Why would I need to? Nehrull knows of my devotion to him. Is it required to be recognized by others in order to do deeds in my gods name? No. So why should I proclaim it to the world when the only one that matters is Nehrull himself?” The constant pain of wearing such a large, cumbersome piece of equipment in exchange for eternal life is viewed as a blessing. Is it painful? Yes, but Typhus would have it no other way. Does the lack of real sleep make him irritable? Most certainly yes, this irritability does not bother Typhus, only those he interacts with and he doesn’t care about them at all. Whenever Typhus wishes to enact a power, this blessing is the incantation used to enact whichever power Typhus wishes. Nehrull’s Blessing Nehrull, lord of death, hater of life behold the suffering strength my gift unto your blessings. **Disclaimer** There are probably major fubars in this design. They are not intentional, its just that even though I have a college education, I am still an idiot at times. Just ask others about my math prowess. If you see something, call it out and offer a suggestion as to how to fix it. I don’t want everyone to nitpick it to death, but if I am doing something obviously wrong or game breaking, let me know. Value . . . Characteristics . . . Cost 13 . . . . . . STR . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 14 . . . . . . DEX . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12 12 . . . . . . CON . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4 10 . . . . . . BODY . . . . . . . . . . . . 0 18 . . . . . . INT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 10 . . . . . . EGO . . . . . . . . . . . . . 0 13 . . . . . . PRE . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 4 . . . . . . . COM . . . . . . . . . . . . -3 3 . . . . . . . PD (3) . . . . . . . . . . . 0 2 . . . . . . . ED (2) . . . . . . . . . . . 0 3 . . . . . . . SPD (2.4) . . . . . . . . 6 5 . . . . . . . REC (5) . . . . . . . . . . 0 20 . . . . . . END (24) . . . . . . . . -2 23 . . . . . . STUN (23) . . . . . . . 0 Running: 6” Swimming: 2” Jumping: Bleh, like he’s going to jump. Skill Sets Combat 1 WF: Scythe 4 +2 OCV w/scythe 6 +2 Lvl w/scythe 2 +1 OCV w/claws 6 +2 Lvl w/claws Languages 1x(4) Language: Common (Idiomatic, native accent (Galeel Shire), w/literacy) Knowledge/area knowledge/professional 2 KS: Poisons (15-) 1 KS: Planes (11-) 1 KS: Gates of Sigil (11-) 1 KS: Nehrull (11-) 3 AK: Sigil (15-) 3 PS: Brew Poisons (15-) General skills 3 Cryptography (15-) 3 Sleight of Hand (12-) 3 Streetwise (12-) 3 Healing (15-) 3 Riding (12-) x(1) Fam. w/Acting (8-) x(1) Fam. w/Climing (8-) x(1) Fam. w/Concealment (8-) x(1) Fam. w/Conversation (8-) x(1) Fam. w/Deduction (8-) x(1) Fam. w/AK: Telphanar (8-) x(1) Fam. w/Persuassion (8-) x(1) Fam. w/Shadowing (8-) x(1) Fam. w/Stealth (8-) x(1) Perk: Generous Employeer (8-) Given by another character that kept spreading the word. Perks/Talents/Misc. 3 Scholar 2 Contact: Kuli. Courier. 8-; useful resources 1 Well-off 106 Armor & Scythe of Nehrull Disadvantages Dependence: Armor, uncommon/extremely difficult to obtain; Damage 1d6; Weakness -3 to characteristics /20 min. (-25) Distinctive Features: Rotted, poxed and decaying skin. Easily concealable, features cause extreme reaction. (-15) Psychological: Irritable from total unrest. Very common/moderate. Change actions w/EGO roll +5 (-15) Social Limitation: Nehrull, Occassionally (8-); Major risk of injury & extreme inconvienience (-10) Reputation: Known as poisoner of Galeel Shire. Sometimes 8-; Extreme reputation, limited area (-5) Quirks (-5) 1 Carries Telphan stein (Galeel Shire motif) 2 Hates The Masquerade 3 unknown 4 unknown 5 unknown **Explanation of quirks. Leftover from previous edition when your package costs gave a -3 bonus. We used quirks to round them out. They were always a little quirk of the character, something unique but not game altering and developed during game play from bad dice rolls, etc. Now we just all have a 5 point quirk that we develop throughout the game.** Armor of Nehrull Armor: 8PD/8ED (24 pts)—Hardened vs. Penetrating x1 (+¼); Hardened vs. Armor Piercing x2 (+½); OIF: Very difficult to obtain (-1½); Mass: Normal (-1) Active Points: 42; Real Cost: 12 The armor itself is described as a full suit of dark green laquered plate armor. Very flat in hue and highlighted with small brass etchings and buckles. I purchased the armor without using the Real Armor disadvantage because I believe that the armor itself is an artifact. That type of armor does not need to be repaired or maintained. It just happens because its the gods will. The armor was made specifically for Typhus by Nehrull and as such also does not have Independent as a power disadvantage. Powers 1. The Blessing of Nehrull (+20 STR, +10 CON, +10 Body, +10 EGO, +1 SPD, +5 PD, +5 ED, +10 END, +10 Stun.) OIF: Armor—Very Difficult to obtain (-1½); Incantations: Invoke name of god (-¼); Visible: Armor appears to be wreathed in black flames (-¼); Charges: Continuing 1-min., 6/day (-0) Active Points: 115; Real Cost: 38 2. Eyes of Nehrull (Detect life, Darkvision.) OIF: Armor—Very Difficult to obtain (-1½) Active Points: 15; Real Cost: 6 3. The Dying Man’s Breath (Regeneration 1 Body/turn, can regrow limbs.) Reduced END: 0 (+½); Persistant (+½); OIF: Armor—Very Difficult to obtain (-1½); Extra time: 1 turn (-1¼); Self only (-½) Active Points: 30; Real Cost: 7; END Cost: 0 4. Nehrull’s Rage (1d6 HKA.) OIF: Armor—Very Difficult to obtain (-1½); Restrainable (-½) Active Points: 15; Real Cost: 5 5. Nehrull’s Gift of Life (Life support—Immortal, Safe environment—Intense cold, Eat once/week, Sleep 8 hours/week, Immune to all terrestrial poisons and chemical warfare agents, Immune to all terrestrial diseases and biowarfare agents.) OIF: Armor—Very Difficult to obtain (-1½); Visible: Black colored smoke appears to move inside the armor pulsing like a heart beat (-¼) Active Points: 29; Real Cost: 10 6. Defense of the Dead (10 points Power Defense.) OIF: Armor—Very Difficult to obtain (-1½) Active Points: 10; Real Cost: 4 7. Eyes of the Dead (10 points Flash Defense: 5 pts vs sight/sound.) OIF: Armor—Very Difficult to obtain (-1½) Active Points: 10; Real Cost: 4 8. Children of Nehrull (Change environment: Fills environment with bugs, flying and stinging insects, etc. 3 Hex diameter, -3 OCV while in area.) Reduced END: 0 END (+½); Personal Immunity (+¼); No Range (-½); Incatations (-¼); OIF: Armor—Very Difficult to obtain (-1½); Full phase (-½) Active Points: 35; Real Cost: 9; END Cost: 0 9. Wings of Pain (6" flight, no non-combat speed) Reduced END: 0 END (+½); Persistent (+½); OIF: Armor—Very Difficult to obtain (-1½); Incatations (-¼); Restrainable (-½); Extra time: Next phase/delayed phase (-1); No non-combat movement (-¼); Side effect: 2d6 HKA, no defense, whenever power is activated (-1) Active Points: 24; Real Cost: 4; END Cost: 0 Scythe of Nehrull Scythe; -1 OCV; 2d6 HKA; STR min: 16; 2 Handed-long Basically the scythe was just a scythe. Since there were no real rules I could find on them, I decided to base the weapon on a polearm. Basically large, unwieldly and heavy. The only difference was on the miniature there were faces in the wood. So now afer having played Typhus for a while, I have decided to make the scythe a bound demon of Nehrull that is awakening because of the souls I am now harvesting. New powers will manifest as the character spends points as the Demon becomes more and more aware. The only special effect is that for each soul harvested a face on the staff seems to moan silently. The burnout roll that may happen because of use is fixed by actually feeding the demon a soul before I can start to accumulate more. I also did not purchase Independent since this was given to Typhus from Nehrull. The only power right now is: Demonic Scream: Dispel (10d6) No range (-½); OAF: Scythe, extrememely difficult to obtain (-2); Incantation (-¼); Boostable charges: 6 (-½) Active points: 30; Real cost 7 Well there he is, in a nutshell. I probably am missing something but after formating this so that its legible I am not seeing it. Thanks for looking.

Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus As usual, I don't claim to be a writer, blah, blah, blah. I just enjoy writing my characters point of view. There are obvious errors, yada, yada, yada. Any comments are welcome. Enjoy! Stepping outside of the Black Bird I was immediately filled with ire as I noticed that the masses were still out celebrating The Masquerade. Deciding that the Children of Nehrull would be needed to ensure a quick route through the crowd I began my prayer. Half way through the prayer a loud exclamation of “Brother!” came from behind me, and a large hand clasped my back. Turning around slowly as I am rather unaccustomed to being, handled, I was surprised to see an obvious worshipper of Nehrull. His bulk and constant wet hacking, followed by a large globule of phlegm being spit out from behind a toothy grin was the immediate clue. Lord Nehrull is known to bestow great gifts onto his esteemed followers, and this individual was given a great blessing. His armor was dented from battle, pitted from acid, and rusty from use. The plate armor seemed to barely be able to restrain the massive girth of the man, and the lack of certain pieces led me to believe he had to remove some of his armor to continue wearing the rest. The parts he had removed were replaced with wrapped bandages. In fact, none of these bandages seemed to have ever been replaced. Just more had been heaped on top of the old ones. He was missing toes, obvious to me since he wore no boots. Fingers were missing as well, but the ones that remained firmly held a large hammer that now rested on his right shoulder. The hammer seemed to have the same “attention to detail” as his armor as I was sure that hair was still clinging to the hammer, held in place by dried smatterings of blood. Across his back a massive sword also was sheathed, but looked to have seen the same amount of use. In a broad and toothy grin, he introduced himself as Lord Pathos. The lord title I imagine was self given, and enforced with the hammer for those that may question his royalty. “A fine journey we are about to undertake.” He said between the removal of more phlegm. My quizzical look, even behind the armor was apparent to Pathos as his grin returned once again. “Our lord has sent me and others to help you on this quest. It should be a grand journey.” Admittedly I was disappointed somewhat, as I had hoped this was a task given to just me by my beneficent god. Wishing otherwise would be fruitful and perhaps unwise, as questioning ones god generally does not bode well for the follower. So others would come? Mayhap the journey would be very dangerous. The men that were splitting the gold that I had left on the table in the Black Bird might not be enough. Nehrul would know as much, so his help for me was sending others. “I must do some research, Lord Pathos. The gates that must be entered require specific keys, and where the gates themselves are located must be discerned if I am to complete this glorious task with haste.” Again Pathos returned to his smile and produced a pendant made of amber. “I have all the keys we will need.” “Very well then, I must retire and plan the journey. We will leave from here two bells before peak, don’t be late.” And with that said I finished my prayer and moved off towards my home to make the preparations, the Children of Nehrull opening a path through the unworthy. The night went slowly. Even more so than normal, or so it would seem. The time was spent placing more traps for unwanted visitors, reading up on creatures that inhabited the planes we were set to travel on. Learning their weaknesses, what poisons I could use against them. One of the first stops on the journey would be The Bastion of Last Hope, the city was a known location for smugglers and surgeons. Forged documents held no fascination with me, but the medical research and knowledge, if written down, would be something worth buying . . . or taking. The morning did come and I left my hovel early with the hopes of getting to the Black Bird quickly. The signs of The Masquerade still evident, sans dead bodies, showed everywhere. Thankfully the late night of drinking by most left the streets rather barren, just messy. Upon entering the Black Bird I saw that Lord Pathos was sitting in the chair that I am accustomed to sitting in. He must have sat there all night from the amount of spittle on the floor around him. Christoph and Marv were seated in their usual spots trying to avoid looking directly at Pathos. The elf was at the bar, drinking his foul brown coffee. The others were no where to be found, the only other persons in the room was the individual and her bodyguard Christoph was talking too. A small, frail looking woman carrying only a staff and a small bag. The body guard looked like your competent meat shield. Someone from the local guild hall I would imagine. Completely devoid of any real emotion, their only desire being that the person that pays them doesn’t die. With my arrival into the bar, everyone stood, Lord Pathos grinning and giving a rather hearty “Good morning, dear brother.” As one they filed outside. It would seem that introductions had already been made between Pathos and the others, which was fine by me as I had no intention of making any. Turning to Pathos, I said, “The portal we need to enter is in some shop. I trust you know which one?” A grin and quick nod proclaimed he did, and so the journey for the Black Banner of Fear began. Along the way to the shop I learned the female was named Lilith, and was in fact an elf of normal size, unlike the other freakishly tall one that seemed to be watching her with guarded eye. We eventually found the store, surprisingly open after the late night festivities. The gate was a door in the middle of the shop, conveniently located behind the counter of wares. Pathos moved to the counter and lifted the gate, the shop keeper began to protest but was easily shoved aside with one sweep of Pathos’ arm. Christoph immediately began to apologize and told the shop keeper that he was sorry for the intrusion and even paid the man. Shaking my head in disgust I moved through the portal into the town of Curst. The sudden change from Sigil to any plane is always somewhat disconcerting but welcome. Sigil is really a horrible city in all regards. The Cage as it is known by some seems to be an apt description to its feel. Curst itself seemed like any other city, and the fact that its flat, not like Sigil makes it seem novel. The gate itself on this end was a small clearing, bordered by four fancy pillars of white stone. Just outside the gate stood a large, well built man with a stern look to his face. He was obviously waiting for us because as he saw me, there was recognition by his face, and when Pathos finally came through he moved up and introduced himself as Crux. He was wearing dark green plate armor ringed in brass, and it too had seen its fair share of battle. His posture reminded me of Steelweaver, someone who flowed with a weapon like water flowed downstream, natural and unstoppable. Although Marv was equally unstoppable, he had no finesse or grace to his actions. Brute force and screaming into the face of his enemy was all Marv knew. His death would be a violent and bloody one. I can only hope that Nehrul will allow me to be present to witness it. As we all assembled I noticed a large . . . construct off to the side of the portal. It was hunkered over as if at rest, reminding me of a suit of armor with no body, just slumped there, unmoving. If it stood upright, I imagine that it would stand over seven feet tall. The legs themselves had one joint between the knee and the ankle, giving it an insect like look. The body, arms, and legs all were very thin. Just skin stretched tightly over bone and sinew. There did not appear to be any muscle, and in fact its left arm did not have a hand, just a long greenish colored metal blade that was easily three feet long. In its right arm was holding a large poleaxe of some design. The wind did nothing to move it, there was nothing on it to flap in the breeze, no clothing, nothing to give it away as anything other than a statue. Pathos following my gaze and said between hacking, “That’s Rhage. He was a devout follower of Nehrull until his death. Then he was blessed with a new body and purpose. He no longer spreads the faith with words, but instead with actions.” As I nodded understanding Crux yelled for Rhage to come over, and like an obedient hound obeying his masters call, Rhage seemed to rise a little and in a few steps managed to cover the distance to our party in a few quick strides. No sooner had it seemed to spring to life, then it stopped and returned to a dormant state. It was at this time that a group of the local guards moved up to our group and ordered us to move away from the portal. They did not like the fact that we were blocking the nonexistent traffic that flowed through its unused gates. Crux looked at the leader and said “You should mind your own business,” and slowly slid his large sword from its scabbard just a few inches. The blade was black as night, and a feeling of despair and dread seemed to emanate from it. The guards noticed the blade and immediately apologized and quickly turned to leave. Pathos again with a grin and stale breath leaned close and whispered to me, “That’s Bane, do not let that blade touch you!” The group I noticed started to feel uncomfortable around so many chosen of Nehrull. The proclamation by Crux that more were to meet us at The Bastion of Last Hope seemed to really upset them. A small grin on my part was quickly replaced with a grimace as I now had a full days walk ahead of me. The area near the Bastion was a desert and the journey was going to be very slow. Walking in sand is never easy, especially when encumbered with the Armor of Nehrull. Several stops had to be made so that I could rest. Coupled with the heat of the place I was in a particularly foul mood. The journey to The Bastion of Last Hope did in fact take most of the day. We arrived in the early evening to a large fortress, built to withstand a siege, with walls some 30 feet high. The similarities to Galeel Shire returned fleetingly, but these walls were not designed to be aesthetically pleasing and formidable as Galeel Shires had. The gate into the bastion was closed and when we approached a voice shouted down demanding to know our business. Before any of us could speak there was a scream, closely followed by a body being held out from the wall by its feet some 30 feet up. Then a loud, deep voice could easily be heard over the whimpering guard, “I told you they were coming, so why you not let them in?” The voice and its subsequent speech spoke volumes of limited intelligence. The body being held by one arm, told volumes of the creatures strength. The guard immediately stammered out a “Let them in!” and was quickly followed by the deeper voice yelling, “I’ll be right down.” The guard was pulled back inside and soon the gate opened up allowing us entrance into the Bastion. As we entered a large disfigured man appeared to shamble up. His back seeming to hunch higher then his head. In his right arm was a spear that appeared to have the same look as Pathos’ hammer, Blunt, as he called it. The figure if it could stand upright would be over six feet tall, but the deformity looked to keep him permanently bent over somewhat. Pathos introduced him as Arrum. The deep voice we heard earlier was in fact Arrum’s as he said that rooms had been made available for us and he gestured over his shoulder to the hostel. Seeing Marv look around he pointed to the nearby inn and said that drink and food was there. Marv and the other quickly moved away from us and entered into the inn. I decided to look through the local bazaar for any books entailing poisons or anything on herbs. After wandering through for several hours I came upon a book of poisons, written by a demon that used various toxins from planar creatures and herbs from their home planes. The owner wanted only eight gold for such a book, I would have paid double that. The knowledge contained that I saw skimming a few of its pages was vast and well documented with formulas. Purchasing a backpack from another vendor so that I could carry the immense tome was the only other purchase I made as I went back to the inn. Upon entering I noticed that my brothers in arms were seated together, Rhage was still standing in the courtyard where he stopped moving when we entered into the Bastion hours ago. The others were seated at a far away table seemed engrossed in getting drunk. Christoph was talking with some mousy looking individual at the bar while purchasing the next round for his table. The man seemed to be ignoring Christoph somewhat, but what ever it is that Christoph has, the man didn’t kill him over the inconvenience of being bothered. Sitting down with my brothers, I pulled out the tome and proceeded to read random pages to try and absorb the giddiness I was feeling at finding such a treasure. Pathos leaned over and read a few words, then loudly asked for me to talk about my worship at Galeel Shire. For a moment I looked at the stein that was sitting in front of me, now full of ale. A smile spread across my face and I replied, “That was a long time ago. A fitting . . . sacrifice . . . for our lord and god the shire was. But I do not like to boast.” Crux seemed to chuckle at that, “A fine sacrifice it was Typhus. A whole town, legends are made from that.” “I care not about legends, Crux. I care only about pleasing Nehrull. I will admit I wished I could have seen the effect of the plague on the surrounding army.” Pathos, as if on cue, coughed, hacked and then spit up a large volume of phlegm onto the floor. “I’ll bet it killed ‘em all!” As he raised his ale in toast. The others also raised their mugs in a typical inn salute. I just nodded thanks. Their praise was warranted, but not desired by me. As long as Nehrul was pleased, the chosen didn’t matter. A few minutes later, I poured out the remaining ale, and left to retire in my room with the book. During the night, I actually did manage to drift off to sleep. I actually dreamed for the first time in many years. I seemed to be walking forward, no longer hunched over as I am because of the weight of my armor. I seemed to be young again. But no amount of walking seemed to get me anywhere, I could not make headway in any direction. Then I noticed the green fog. It seemed to just appear, but it wasn’t sudden, like it has always been there and I was just now noticing it. Off in the distance I could see a rising storm of green and black. Insects of all shapes and sizes seemed to be flying in the storm but no matter how fast I moved, I got no closer. Suddenly the storm seemed to move towards me. In an instant the distance was no more and the storm raged around me, the bugs and insects biting and hitting me. Then in the cloud of debris a large pair of wings seemed to spread out, the body they had to be attached to was unseen. The seemed to stretch, as if trying to remember how to move, then with a great flap moved towards me and between the wings two outstretched claws appeared in the cloud and grabbed me. The black talons easily puncturing the armor as if it were made of parchment. Tearing my chest open I could see and feel my flesh being rended from my body, in pain I screamed, and awoke. Still sitting on a chair near the table where I was reading the book and breathing heavily, I realized that I was covered in sweat and blood. The outside air from the wind although warm seemed to cool my flesh and help me to calm down. It was then that I realized that I had not screamed but had heard a scream from outside in the courtyard of the Bastion. All that was visible was Rhage although he appeared to have turned a little bit since we had arrived. Lying by him on the ground appeared to be some log or some wrapped object of some sort, but nothing else. I decided to get up and clean off the blood and noticed that I was no longer covered in it, but the sweat did remain. Not understanding what happened I tried to lay down in the bed, but the armor made that task difficult and uncomfortable. The only witness to my dream was my scythe, the shifting faces in the wood silently screaming in agony. Eventually the morning came and I entered the inn where Marv and Christoph were already devouring a large breakfast of runny eggs and some sort of meat. Shaking my head and sitting down, I awaited Pathos, Crux and Arrum. They arrived as a group a few minutes after I sat down. Arrum was talking with the mousy looking man that Christoph was talking with the night before. Dressed in dark, baggy clothing with multiple daggers located around his body, he was introduced as Brill. He would be the individual that could guide us to the battlefield where the Banner of Fear was located. Most of the others heard this and learned of the mission. At least the first part, the recovery of the Banner. Arrum explained that he had worked with Brill before and he was a competent guide. As the introductions were finishing up a large lizard creature pulling a small wagon entered into the courtyard. The driver was hidden from view because the cowl was drawn down low. The right arm holding the reins to the lizard was not human. It looked like the arm of some insect, a large chitinous arm with hairs sticking out everywhere ending in a small claw. As the chosen looked up, Arrum’s deep voice greeted Toxas. With his name being spoken the head lifted up and its human looking left arm pulled the cowl back to reveal the head of a fly, with its two large bulbous eyes and antennae. Toxas nodded a greeting and turned the cart around awaiting to leave. Looking at Crux and Pathos I asked if we could leave as I was tired of the delay. Arrum said that there was one more and they had not arrived yet. Growling in frustration at this news I sat down on a bench awaiting our last member. Looking to Pathos, I asked, “Who?” Pathos shrugged, hacked, coughed, and spat. “Probably not a follower of Nehrul, we’re all here.” A few minutes later my men started to put on strips of leather over their eyes. The mousy looking man was helping them. The strips had a small slit cut into them to help against the wind blown sand in the desert. The sand, he explained was large, and very sharp. If exposed skin was left out in the blowing sand long enough, the flesh would be slowly shredded off. Unconsciously I rubbed my chest, remembering my dream. That’s when we saw our late comer. A small man wearing a hodge podge of ill fitting clothing approached our group, dragging a large, heavy sack behind him. “I’m here,” he proclaimed to everyone. No apologies, no excuses, just late. Rolling my eyes, I strained to stand and yelled out, “Lets go!” With that order, everyone left the Bastion out into the desert.

Re: This is why I play Fantasy Hero I really am horrible at explaining myself. But in essence, yes what you said is how I feel. I just think that a constant, adjective filled sentence, describing how you "poke him with a sword" can bog the game down, thus killing the mood. Games that get bogged down get boring real fast. Hero is a great game, but a big combat can take a while to complete. If I had to then describe my action for every attack that I take, while spewing forth some vile trash talk, the game would seriously slow down. Adding a colorful description of the attack, with a small quip every now and then, spices the game up and should be rewarded to a small degree. So in closing I believe you and I agree.

Re: Steve's Chat Tonight (Thursday, March 8) ::Chuckle:: Everytime I quit that darn game I end up getting sucked back in. (Sounds like a movie quote I know . . . . hmmm.)

Re: This is why I play Fantasy Hero Nice, first thing I thought was Feng Shui as well. As for tedious and boring CourtFool, anytime you "enforce" a constant rule, in this case a cinematic attack, then it becomes boring. If every attack is like that then it becomes tedious to the player and slows the game down. The constant decision to make it cinematic will kill the mood of the game. The occassional "I attack it with my sword" is fine and should not be discouraged, but the player doing something interactive with the scene helps to paint the picture for everyone at the session if they're listening. Von went a little overboard but the example is a great read.

Re: [sigil Campaign] The Ranger's Tale That's not true. I am at my happiest when my god accepts the gift I give in his glorious name. Pain . . . seeing it . . . thats a perk! I totally forgot about the clay golem thingys. The Marvs were dealing with them, I had other plans. Oh, and Marv never got the shield down. We both tried, but a successful push of my STR and the scythe dropped it. The wanker still ported out though.

Re: This is why I play Fantasy Hero Thats where the GM is supposed to say, "Cool. Make a jump/acrobatics/tumble check, say DC 15. If you make it, I'll give you a +1 to hit, if you fail it, a -1 to attack. If you get a 5 or less, its an Attack of Opportunity." Allow the players to make a cinimatic attack means they are at least paying attention to the game and are trying to interact with it a little. I admit that too much of this will become tedious and in effect, boring. But allowing the player to interact within the game with some flair should be encouraged at all times. Now, if you come up with a crazy catch-phrase while doing so . . . that's just extra eps.

Re: [HELP] Trying to figure out a spell/power Thanks for the help gang. Its amazing how I can look at something for so long and still not see it, but the moment someone points it out, the fuzzies leave and its all clear. Boostable charges it is. This I like, may even add visible to the power disadvantage for a scream of the souls being wrenched and used in a very unpleasant manner. Thanks again everyone!

Re: [HELP] Trying to figure out a spell/power So in this case I am setting a limit on how much the scythe can hold, thus 7-8 charges is a -0 Disadvantage right?

Re: [HELP] Trying to figure out a spell/power The only problem I see with that is equating a "Soul" to END. My 15d6 dispel without any power modifiers is already at 45 points. So then a "Soul" is 4 END? Buy a 40 END batter and have enough for 10 dispels?

Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus Well, it was a really freggin long time since we last played and trying to remember what "actually" happened is beyond me. This is sort of a Cliff's Notes version of what I remember, which isn't much. Plus I needed the experience for a new power and so I typed this up rather quickly today. After having given the “men” their reward I retired home. The evening was normal, rest never seeming to happen for more than a few minutes. So between reading about new herbs and a little experimenting I would sleep. On my way to the Black Bird Tavern the next morning I could hear on the whispers of people on the street of the afternoon holiday in Sigil. The festival of Sigil called the Masquerade was one of Sigils more popular holidays. Promoted by the Sensates and tolerated by the Lady it was an interesting affair. The one time when all would dress up in strange costumes, poking fun at the demon, devils and other sundry races that wandered the city. Music and drink were the result. I hated it. It was the one day when people would actively leave their hovels and fill the streets. Walking was difficult enough, but the throngs of people just made it worse. Rolling my eyes at the early revelers and their costumes, I entered into the Black Bird and saw that Christoph was already dressed up. Getting my customary ale, I sat down in my usual chair and hoped there would be a contact needing something quickly, hopefully something to kill all in the streets would be a fine start. Christoph came over and asked what I was going to dress up as and the stare I returned made him chuckle and sit down. Eventually everyone arrived at their customary times and Christophs constant badgering convinced me to at least watch the parade. After stepping into the masses I whispered my prayer and summoned forth the Children of Nehrull. The insect swarm gave me the space I desired and a clear view of the parade. Many creatures, planers and others marched in the parade. Statues of the Lady were a common theme, but in jest and not worship. I was just about to reenter the Black Bird when a flash of light and the appearance of the lizard creatures on one of the larger parade floats told me the warning was in fact true. Quickly scanning the scene I found the creature with his foul wand searching for me. We seemed to find each other at the same time as he pointed his wand at me and another brilliantly white hot bolt shot past me, burning up some of the insects. I hate fire, one of the few things that has a nasty ability to kill a disease or plague. That bolt was fire concentrated, as if from the sun itself. With my prayer to Nehrull finished I quickly advanced towards the creature. As I got close to the float several of his lackeys tried to get in the way, only to become harvested by my scythe. Many of the faces now seemed to be moving in agony on the haft. Knowing that the ability to channel the soul into dispelling the shield around the mage was tricky, I decided to try the Marv approach. As I watched Marv attempt to do the same and fail, gave me some trepidation that maybe the mage had empowered his field somewhat. So in a blood fury, I screamed and brought my scythe down on the shield destroying it entirely. Again the mage looked on in terror, and before either of the Marvs or I could recover and swing again, the mage vanished. Again, the “Hazard Mage” learned he was just a mage with a toy, and I laughed. The parade turned out to be fun after all. Once the creatures were all killed and most of the combat ended, the parade began again. I decided that my fun was done for the day and returned to the Black Bird with a dejected looking Christoph as his costume was fairly destroyed by the combat. It would appear that everyone got in on the action as I overheard the elf talking about his shooting at a few of the rats from one of the nearby roofs. If getting to one of the roofs wasn’t such a pain, I would have gone up there and watched the parade from there. Talk of another Hazard Mage appearing during the fight was mentioned, but I never saw him. Probably looking to eliminate one of his competitors with us as the distraction. If I see one next time, I will have to kill him too. I can only wonder at what toy he had. I returned to my seat, the ale still sitting there untouched by mine or others hands. About the time most of the revelers returned to the Black Bird I was visited by my lord, Nehrull. The stein appeared to give off a green fog that poured from under the lid of the stein, upon opening the lid, the fog quickly filled the room and everyone seemed to melt away. Slowly a face formed in the fog and in a deep voice Lord Nehrull spoke. “You have done well in your worship. You honor me with your gifts in my name. But now I send you in my name to do my bidding. You must travel to Minethys, in Karceri and retrieve the Black Banner of Fear. Take the Banner to the Park of Oltary in the fallen city of Rauxes, give it to General Ryrannden and then you will receive your reward. Do this now in my name.” As the voice disappeared the fog seemed to dissipate and again I found myself sitting in the Black Bird with Christoph asking if I was okay, since I was staring off into nothing for a few minutes not answering any questions. Quickly looking around the room I noticed that all of my men were here and I told them that I had a job and we would be leaving in the morning. The shocked look on some of their faces and the hesitation of leaving so soon was quickly replaced with a smile when I dumped 40 gold on the table and told them to divide however they chose but whoever took from the pile was to be here in the morning. With that I stood and quickly left for the libraries to do a little research on the plane known to me as the Red Prison, Karceri. All manner of souls were sent there, trapped forever. Known creatures that inhabited Karceri were the Garolyths, a neutral fiend. Travel to the city of Cursed and others meant retrieving the proper gate keys. The afternoon was quickly filled action as my god had spoken and a task was laid before me. It was a good day.

Okay, I am working on a spell power for my character and I am having some trouble wrapping my mind around how to build it. So . . . off to the forums for some advice. I am making a dispel power that is activated by using a charge. Premise is that I harvest a soul (kill them using my scythe) and then the soul is stored in the scythe until I use it attempting a dispel. I just can't figure out how to make the charge. Other than setting a disad, extremely difficult to obtain, I can't decide if the Fuel Charge is the way to go. Any ideas on how to build this? Just an FYI Disads I am using No Range (I tap the butt of the haft on the item or person I wish to dispell) OAF: Scythe Incantation (basically releasing the soul to activate the dispel) The rest is where I am getting a little confused. Basically the charge and how to do it.

Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus LATEST UPDATE A few days later while researching a new toxin designed to limit the regeneration rate of some demons a knock upon my door disturbed my research. Upon opening the door I recognized the young man as one of Shemeshka’s lackeys, the same that had visited my door before. My ire from his last visit was still on his mind as well because all he said was Shemeshka was ready and that I would need this to complete the task. He then handed me a dark stone disc with a strange glyph embossed on the face. No sooner had I looked at the shape then the lackey was moving away, its nice to see that they can learn, I like that one. That evening I arrived at the Black Bird with the disc and discovered that only a few of my men were there. Christoph, Steelweaver, and the elf were all having a serious conversation. One that may beg some attention on my part. Marv was no where to be seen, my guess would be that he was now going to become a regular at the Fortune’s Wheel. Funny how Shemeshka will always get her money back. That news was good for me, because as long as Marv lost money, as he inevitably would, he would be constantly in my employ. Darkchant was also missing but I must admit that even I had a hard time spotting him even if he was sitting at the table. After filling my stein I took a seat at the table and waited for the others to arrive. I was relieved to be left out of the conversation between the others as the hushed talk was nothing of consequence. About half way through my ale, Marv did arrive and looked more haggard than usual. He also had another set of ogre sized arms. All of us sitting at the table noticed at the same time, because they shut up. Marv got his customary bucket and then came over to slump down next to our table. If there was one reason that I knew he was not well, was the fact that he didn’t gulp the bucket down right away. When the inevitable questions began to fly all Marv would say was that he got drunk, woke up with a terrible head ache and discovered the extra arms. Marv was not overly concerned, as he had control of them and was learning there may be benefits to the extra arms. Personally I didn’t care, as long as it did not interfere with the new job we were tasked to do. Early that evening Darkchant did arrive and I was pleasantly surprised that I noticed. He came over and sat down but the expression on his face told the story. The news he was able to uncover was not overly helpful just the basics. The name of the hazard mage, the names of those that had imprisoned him, etc. Nothing about the tomb or its contents beyond what we already knew. I showed Darkchant the symbol on the rock and he admitted that he did not know the rock or what the symbol meant. I allowed him to hold it for more research and then informed him that a meeting with Shemeshka was in order and we needed to retrieve the book. So with Darkchant in tow, we left for the Fortunes Wheel. Upon arriving at the wheel my appearance was easily noticed by the guards and even some of the patrons, apparently my last visit caused a stir. The smile on my face was quickly replaced by a grimace as I proceeded up the stairs. The room had not changed and again the chair quickly groaned under the weight of my armor. Shemeshka smiled and pushed the book across the table to me, saying the passage we needed would be easily found within. The disc she explained was the key needed for entering into the crypt, and was made of moonstone. The same material we would need to activate the gate and proceed to the plane where the hazard mage was entombed. The third grate on the Depression bridge was our destination and the tomb was said to be north of a town that laid in a valley near the gate. Rather vague directions, but a detailed map to a individual that was meant to be hidden probably wasn’t available, even with Shemeshka’s resources. She handed me a sack of coins as the initial payment for my services, the rest would be available when we returned the book. After all of the information was given, I stifled a groan and stood. Placing the book in my bag with the gold for my men, I turned to leave. The walk back to the Black Bird was quiet. I was deep in my own thoughts of what may lay ahead, if Shemeshka was in fact baiting me out for death. Darkchant said nothing and was left to his own mischievous thoughts. Along the way I purchased enough moonstone for everyone involved to be able to use the gate. After arriving at the Black Bird I noticed that the others were having a grand time watching Marv perform drinking feats with his new arms, as he now had one bucket of ale in each meaty paw. Rolling my eyes I asked for the back room so that Darkchant and I could go over the book in private away from unknown prying eyes. Once reaching the back room Darkchant and I pulled out the book and was surprised to see that the pages were in fact blank. All of the pages had no writing on them except for one. To my dismay I was unable to read them as well, but Darkchant said that the words were Nureti, a language spoken by many demons and devils. This form is called Black Nureti, it is a language of power, used in all manner of dark arts. There was no official written language of Black Nureti, just the spoken word. As such he would be able to speak the words of power, but as to their actual meaning Darkchant had no clue. For some, the paranoid and weak, this would be a cause of concern. I on the other hand did not care, this passage had to be spoken in order to awaken the hazard mage, and that is what I agreed to have done. I closed the book, reclaimed the moonstone key from Darkchant and proceeded to leave for the night. As I left the Black Bird I made sure everyone knew to be at the third grate on the Depression bridge, 2 bells before peak and handed them each a piece of moonstone and 5 gold for the initial payment of the job. I returned home to peruse over the page in the book, using my skills at cryptography, an old skill that used to pay my bills before I learned of Nehrull and his glory. The words came slowly and the mere mention of the words, made my head swim. This is a language that I will have to learn and with Darkchant now in my employ I will have to do so immediately. After looking at the words for a while, I decided that early the next morning I would head to a library and see what I could dig up on Black Nureti. The next morning came quicker than I had expected and so I made my way to the library, which in itself was a long walk, but one made in earnest. After spending an hour or so looking through scrolls and tomes I still had learned nothing other than it was in fact not a written language. Which was good in one way, this means that Darkchant didn’t lie to me about that. So I decided to head to the gate, as the distance would make my arrival on time difficult. The bells were tolling as I finally made the gate expecting to see the others, but was surprised that no one was there. At first that didn’t bother me as the rest before a possible long walk would be pleasant. After fifteen minutes of waiting I grew angry so I left to do this on my own. Using the moonstone on the gate a small sparkle of energy formed around the ring leading into the sewer. Moving the grate aside I entered into the tunnel, but instead of finding myself further in the tunnel I instead stepped onto a cool mountain pass. The change of environment even allowed me to breathe a little easier. The foundry it would seem was causing some of my shortness of breath. The view was incredible, as I was high up into the mountains. To the south east and down the mountain I could see a small village, the same village that I would have to skirt around to find the pass leading up into the northern mountain range. From the view I was able to see that I could avoid the town altogether and once down the mountain could skirt the edge of the mountain range until I found the path leading up the northern face. I walked for a few minutes wondering if the others had decided not to come, or if they were selling the information to someone else. If that were indeed true then I might have company soon or may stumble across them. If they were smart they would wait until I had opened the tomb or uncovered the hazard mage and then attack. I have to admit that the thought of this happening brought a smile to my face. No sooner had the smile faded then I heard the unmistakable sound of booted feet coming down the same pass I was. Knowing this probably was not the “ambush” I stepped from the path near a tree so that whatever train of people this was it could pass by. I was surprised to see that it was not a patrol of humans from the village but instead a small scouting party of orcs. First guess had them at around 20, something I could defeat if I had too but something I would rather avoid. As a precaution I whispered my prayer to Nehrull and could feel the rush of power surge through me and the armor. When they came upon my position they did in fact notice me and stopped their march. The only one that was mounted said something to two of them and they approached me guardedly. I could tell the group must have been a scouting patrol as I have heard tales of orcs always running in large numbers. Since I was an unknown to them they stayed out my immediate reach and in a broken common asked who I was. I chuckled and told them, “I am not one to bother.” The bravado seemed to confuse them, since I was in fact using my staff as something to lean against. No sense letting them know that I could harvest their puny souls in one sweeping attack. “What do you want?” I asked them after they talked in their strange, guttural language to each other. They looked back at the boss and the leader seemed to swell up as if to intimidate or awe me. He said something in his language. To me it sounded like a challenge or even a boast, but I dismissed it and looked at the lackey waiting the translation. He turned and with a broad smile the lackey said, “We go scout town.” Pointing towards the town as he proudly proclaimed their mission. “Fine.” I replied and moved my hand in a broad sweeping gesture, as if to say the valley was yours. “Burn it to the ground for all I care, just leave me alone.” The last words were directed toward the leader. The leader looked puzzled and was waiting for the lackey to translate, which he did. The surprise on the orcs face told me he expected a different answer and the leader looked back at me. So again I swept my arm towards the village and repeated to the leader, “just leave me alone!” It took another translation but they finally understood and moved down the pass towards a soon to be burning town. The leader did nod to me in passing but I just ignored him and continued my slow descent to the valley floor. After a few hours I noticed that the group was behind me following my trail and slowly catching up. Seeing this I decided to find a perch to sit and wait. The walk down the mountain was tiring and I was not looking forward to climbing back up another pass, the rest would do my legs wonders. When they finally caught up the elf took off ahead of the group scouting out a path. Darkchant came over and said, “I take it you did not receive the message?” “What do you think?” I asked sarcastically. “Why were you late?” Darkchant said they wanted to see if he could find out more information on our objective or the persons that entombed him. “And?” I asked. “Nothing more than we already knew,” he replied to me in a dejected tone. Darkchant is beginning to cause me to question his motives. He speaks with a silver tongue and managed to arrive late to a meeting he helped broker with Shemeshka. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was trying to play both sides, and I do not yet know who the other players may be. The fact that money does not seem to be a motivating factor in his life as he does not appear to have much is an unlikely reason. So what would cause a turn in agreement? Eventually we found the tomb after hiking in the mountains for another few hours. Once we had discovered the entrance to the tomb the elf said that he would cover us from a location that was greater than most bows could reach. To me this seemed like cowardice as he could not possible do any good at the distance he claimed his protection would come from. As I headed up the hill I made sure the elf understood that this would cause a decrease in the amount he would be paid, and the group would benefit from his lost coin. When we reached the entrance I could see that a small recessed circular shape with the pattern that matched the disc I had in my possession was on the door. So placing the disc into the slot caused the enchantment that held the door closed to end and almost like curtains being opened the rock face opened to a long dark tunnel. At this point I looked at Steelweaver and waited. He seemed startled as even he was waiting for someone to go in first. But he realized that we were in fact waiting on him and he proceeded forward into the chamber looking for any traps that may have been left behind. The hall proceeded for about 15 feet to some stairs leading up to a much larger room. After waiting for Steelweaver to clear the way did any of us move into the room. Once he had checked the room I moved in to notice six small alcoves that contained a small carved piece of stone proclaiming the reasons for the hazard mages imprisonment. The usual, murder, mayhem, etc. was listed but meant nothing really, just words on stone. At the far end of the room was another setting for the key, and as before the rock faded away after placing the key in its proper place for a brief moment. Again another hallway leading to yet more stairs leading up, and again Steelweaver moved in to check for traps. While we waited for his death or proclamation that all was safe I heard the elf moving into the lower hallway. I imagine once we got outside of his view, the “covering” position he claimed to have was useless. A few minutes later I heard Steelweavers cry that is was safe to proceed and upon reaching the next landing I saw the strange circular rune carved into the floor. The rune was in the shape of a circle, with symbols of the planes on the outer ring, and a small maze like pattern filling the center of the circle. Looking to my left and right I noticed two passages leading down some stairs to another wall with yet another impression. Directly opposite of the way we came was an identical doorway and Steelweaver was still standing there. Apparently this is where he finished looking for traps and was waiting for me to open the door so that he could proceed into the next room or hall. Again I activated the doorway and instead of a hall we had stairs leading down into a long room. Both sides of the walls, to the right and left, contained a small alcove with a tiny glowing blue light source at the top of a spindle. Opposite the doorway we entered from was two statues, one of a demon and one of a angel both guarding another door. Also protecting the door was a iron latticework that ran from floor to ceiling and to each side wall. Each bar was easily a few inches thick and it would appear that Marv would now have something to do. So Marv did what he does best, using his immense strength and his extra arms he started to bend some of the bars. No sooner had one of the bars began its shriek of bending than the little blue lights grew to a size no larger than a foot across and began to float into the room. A split second later they unleashed a salvo of lightning on everyone near the grate at the far end of the room, to spectacular effect. By the time I had whispered my prayer to Nehrull and taken a step into the room Steelweaver was mortally wounded and trying his best to cower behind the now scorched Marv who was flailing about to little effect. Christoph seemed to be moving faster as the encounter raged on and seemed to be avoiding most of the bolts coming from the orbs. Suddenly there was a muffled popping noise from behind me and one of the spheres shuddered as a small bolt of energy impacted it. Turning to see the source of the noise I could not see anything, Darkchant was hiding from view, only his head peaking around the wall to watch the fiasco. My only guess would be the elf. It would appear that the term “archer” is not entirely accurate as he must have some arcane wand of some sort, or maybe that odd looking staff he wears on his back. Regardless of where the shot came from I swung my scythe into one of the spheres and its blue glow diminished significantly. This drew the attention of the two closest orbs which immediately shot me with their lighting bolt. My armor protected me from most of it, a large bolt did in fact penetrate and burned a small amount of my flesh. Infuriated my next swing destroyed the orb as another energy bolt from the elf impacted the same orb he fired at previously. Sensing that the remaining four orbs may in fact damage me if their attention was drawn to me I decided to protect myself with the Children of Nehrull. Another whisper from my lips and soon all manner of crawling and flying insect began to pour from openings in my armor. Wasps, hornets, bees, beetles, even maggots began to spew forth forming a bubble of protection around me. Nehrull’s blessing allowed me to see through the insect swarm and I moved to engage the remaining four orbs as the elfs next shot removed the orb he had been firing at. With ease the scythe of Nehrull guided by my hands made short work of the remaining orbs. With the last orb destroyed I turned to the remaining men. Steelweaver had in fact avoided much of the fight, Marv looked almost black from the amount of scorch marks covering his thick hide, even Christoph looked bad. The men faded to the side of the room ignoring the final opening of the crypt to lick their wounds. The grate still needed to come down and Marv was trying to rest. Infuriated at their weakness I dropped the scythe and proceeded to wrench the bars open myself. Nehrull’s gift allowed me to equal the strength of the great ogre and before I was able to pull it fully down Marv returned to help. I noticed that although Marv’s armor was still blackened, his skin was a fresh pink color and his wounds seemed to have disappeared. If Marv could truly regenerate his wounds, his boast of fighting in the blood wars could in fact be true. His regeneration might explain his sudden growth of extra arms. With the obstruction now out of the way, I once again used the key to open the passageway. This time the opening led into a large room. In the center of the room was a sarcophagus and four of the impressions around the body similar to the doors. A small green dome sat atop the coffin and slowly pulsed, mirroring the globe was a larger one in the ceiling above the sarcophagus. The floor had a very large intricate pattern inlaid into it in a shape of a large maze circled around the sarcophagus. Before entering into the room I looked at Steelweaver. Because of his wounds I imagine that expected to be done with his trap finding duties. The fact that I kept staring at him eventually got Christophs attention and he said that he would look around for the traps. Once Christoph searched the room outside the maze I entered and proceeded to the far side where the maze allowed an opening. Christoph was standing there waiting and after I arrived he said that he could use the disc to unlock the sarcophagus after checking for more traps in the maze. So I handed him the disc and he walked the maze all the way to the prize. Using the key on the locks unfortunately did not open the sarcophagus, so after handing the book to Darkchant he proceeded to enter the maze. As soon as his foot stepped into the maze the large dome on the ceiling began to glow a pale green. Soon after a green dot appeared and started swirling around inside, leaving a trail like a comet in the night sky. After a few more seconds the globe changed to a dark black, with small pin points of light in it, looking exactly like a night sky back on the prime world I once lived. The temperature changed immediately to a body numbing cold, my labored breath seen in the air. Then suddenly large black tentacles began to emerge from the dome searching the room for something to grab onto. Marv immediately tried to get a running jump to the center of the maze and encountered some sort of force wall that ran from floor to ceiling. The pattern in the floor being the force wall meant you would have to navigate the maze to get to the center. Sensing the immediate danger, Darkchant decided that just being somewhere in the maze would be sufficient for him to read the passage in Shemeshka’s book, and so he began the demon speak. Marv meanwhile had moved to the entrance and was moving as quickly as he could through the maze trying to reach the center. One of the tentacles grabbed Christoph and no amount of squirming seemed to break him free. Then I heard a popping noise as a burst of energy from the elf impacted the wall nearest me. The shot had passed through the tentacle and did no damage, yet the tentacle was able to harm Christoph. It was about this time when Marv swung at the tentacle and his weapon passed through as well. I began to wonder if there would be more shares to pass around the table if Christoph did not manage to free himself from its grasp. As Darkchant finished the passage the creature that the tentacles belonged to pulled itself into the room. A dark black creature with only one red eye in its center mass and a line where a mouth must surely be. The globe in the ceiling seemed to change from the night sky back to its original color, as I imagine the prison that held the beast was now turned off. Weapons still passed harmlessly through the creature and everything seemed doomed for my men when we could all hear the elf yelling from across the room, “Hit the eye!” No sooner had I heard that then one of the energy bolts from the elfs staff impacted the creature and it bellowed out in pain. Marv sensing the weakness attempted to exploit it with his immense axe backed with his strength. Since Christoph was still struggling to get free and only Marv in the center I started to run into the maze while whispering another blessing to Nehrull. I had gotten no more than a quarter of the way through when the lid of the sarcophagus exploded off and a man sat up shaking his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. The creature realized that its ward was now free opened its maw and screamed. The temperature of the room changed immediately to a scorching heat. The beasts back was too me and even I could feel the heat, like a large bonfire from a foot away is what it felt like, I could only imagine the pain the others near its face were feeling. The hazard mage feeling this grabbed up a staff and unleashed a beam into the creatures eye that was ten times the size of the bolt that the elf was continually unleashing. Grasping with its tentacles at the mage, Christoph fell free and the mage was soon entangled. Loosing the mage to the keeper would not look good to Shemeshka and so I redoubled my efforts to reach the center before the mage was eaten. As the creature clamped down with its maw on the leg of the mage the combined fury of the mage, the elf and Marv succeeded in killing it. As it died the creature vanished into the air leaving the room much cooler than before and with its death the force wall died. Darkchant came over right after the wall fell and handed me the book, while Marv was looking about inside the sarcophagus. Christoph seemed to be checking himself over and I could just make out the shape of the elf from the doorway, Steelweaver was near him as well still looking . . . unwell. I turned my attention to the mage who after looking at his leg did the same. “Who are you?” he asked. “My name is Typhus, and these are my men. The person that asked us to free you is named Shemeshka. She is in Sigil and would like to speak with you.” The mage nodded and said, “For freeing me I will award you as well as visit this Shemeshka. But first I would like to visit someone.” I nodded an understanding. Hundreds of years being imprisoned tends to give you plenty of time to dream up ways to pay back those that imprisoned you. The mage returned the nod and in a flash of light was gone. I looked at Christoph and held out my hand. Sheepishly he returned the disc and moved to leave the room. With the book and the disc back in my bag I announced that we were leaving and proceeded to head to the cave mouth. The elf was no longer visible, I imagine he had moved to get outside and “cover” us again. As I approached the top of the landing with the small circular inlay, I noticed an apparition. Actually it was a ghostly image of a face that was looking around, mostly studying me as I was the closest. Darkchant noticed this as well and disappeared from sight. The group was moving slowly to the landing as the inlay flared and was left with four bipedal lizard looking creatures. Weapons in hand they began moving towards the party and me. As the first creature brought up his weapon the whisper to Nehrull was already over and the blow glanced harmlessly off my armor. With my return stroke killing the creature instantly another flare brought in more lizards with a very impressive looking one in the center holding a small rod. No sooner had the creature hit the floor then it shuddered for a second and the black ghostly form of its soul was sucked into the scythe. The confined space was a perfect environment for me to bring forth more insects to protect me as the bubble was almost the same width of the tunnel. The whisper was made and as they poured forth from my armor I swore I heard the elf curse in his language, the insects blocking vision to all not blessed with Nehrull’s gifts. Screams of pain told me that the others were having a few problems with the lizards and soon I heard the unmistakable sound of swords hitting the floor and Marv issuing his challenge. The leader rightly perceived me as a threat and aimed his small rod at me. Suddenly a brilliant, and extremely powerful burst of energy moved from the rod and missed me only my scant inches, blowing a large chunk of stone from the wall behind me. As I moved to intercept their leader as his soul would be a fitting addition to the scythe I could hear Darkchant speaking some odd language and then one of the lizards fell over dead as if his heart had just stopped. The leader seeing my approach brought his full attention on me and unleashed another bolt that missed. As I moved closer I noticed that the insect were being pushed aside from some bubble that protected the leader. His bolt on the other hand moved through his protection with ease and one of those bolts struck me in the shoulder. The pain was immense, heat like I had never before experienced, concentrated into that one bolt. It tore a hole through the armor and seared my flesh causing me to cry out in pain. When I came to my senses I tapped his bubble with the end of the scythe and using the soul fuel the dispel attempted to remove his shield. The shield did almost collapse but at the last instant the rod flared and the bubble returned. The worried look that was on the face of the reptile was replaced with a smile when the field came back up. Nodding to him because this was a fight I would probably loose, I charged the staff again by finishing off one of his other henchmen and told him, “You’re too late, he’s been released.” The wizards scowl at my proclamation was quickly replaced with fear as Marv ran to the top of the landing and with one powerful stroke of his axe removed the shield completely. Before any of us could react to this new and important predicament, the wizard teleported away. Knowing that I can attain Marv’s strength easily enough made the knowledge that I could bring down his shield myself with brute force instead of magic. But the fact remained that it got away, leaving only one of his henchmen alive for questioning. The ghostly face remained there watching the entire fight and our departure to the gate with emotionless eyes. The journey to the gate was uneventful and sadly I did not see the village at the base of the pass burning. After arriving back in Sigil, Darkchant, Marv, and the elf wanted to see what information could be gathered from the survivor. I told them that I would be back at the Black Bird after speaking with Shemeshka and returning the book. Sadly the gate was a long distance away from the Fortunes Wheel and yet more walking was in store for me. Upon arriving at the Fortunes Wheel I was immediately allowed access to the stairs and the chair I so loved to sit in. Shemeshka was again sitting on the opposite side of the desk and a slow smile appeared on her face. “You’re back so soon.” “I don’t take idle time while doing jobs Shemeshka. That’s not how I work.” This brought an even larger smile, “So the job was successful then?” “Yes, the wizard knows that it was you who freed him. He will make an appearance after tying up a few loose ends I imagine.” “Good,” she said as she got down to business. Reaching into one of her drawers she pulled out a large purse filled with coins. Setting that on the table in front of me, I placed the book and the disc next to the purse. “Pleasure doing business you,” Shemeshka said as I stood gathering up the purse. “Of course it is,” I said with a wry smile. “You know where to reach me if you need anything.” Shemeshka smiled and I turned to leave. The walk back took a while but all in all the mission went rather well. It was a shame some of the men didn’t die to the orbs, the extra money for the others would have been a nice bonus. Admittedly the amount of work being funneled my way was a little alarming, since there were people in her employ like Niren and Ebon, but I doubt they would do anything to upset the balance. I reached the Black Bird and was surprised to see just Christoph, Steelweaver and the elf sitting at the usual table. Marv and Darkchant were no where to be seen. Their eyes did light up when I dropped the purse on the table. Even a few patrons in the bar turned at the noise, but no one would be stupid enough to try and grab for it so I was happy displaying the wealth for anyone to see. Christoph on the other hand kept looking at the purse then back at me, he even asked me to pay out the shares. I told him to wait and when everyone was here, they would all be paid at once. Sullenly Christoph slumped back into his share but didn’t say anything. The others began telling me about the lizard and the information gathered. His master, Zirann, was another hazard mage and when we entered into the tomb they were alerted. Unfortunately for them, they were too slow in reacting to the alarm and as such their master would hunt us down. Blah, blah, blah is all I really heard at that point. Another threat from another mortal, what ever shall I do? Life is precious to mortals and they fear death. You can tell they fear death because they use that as a means of control over others. If you don’t do this I will kill you, etc. Everyone fears death, except me, I’ve already died once. You cannot threaten someone with something that holds no fear over them. These hazard mages seem to be just a wizard with a toy. Take away the toy and they are just a mage, the lizard was going to learn this the next time we met if his threat was true. Eventually Marv and Darkchant did arrive and after sitting down I opened the purse and handed everyone 15 gold coins, with another 2 gold as a bonus. But the payment did come with a warning to never be late again. They quickly gathered up the cash except the elf who was still learning about the currency and its value. Marv on the other hand set two items on the table and said he found them in the coffin. One of them he described as a bright, flash grenade to blind your opponents and so the Ranger picked it up and handed Marv five gold for it. The other item increased the wearer’s intelligence, and protected their mind from attacks. Remembering what Darkchant was doing to the lizards, I reached for the bracelet and also handed Marv five gold.

Re: [sigil Campaign] Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics Okay, I can honestly say that you are creepy! Typhus in all his magnificent, putrescant glory is not that creepy. Great story though!

Re: [sigil Campaign] The Ranger's Tale Awesome! Not much mention of Typhus' hand to hand prowess though? Wonder why. Am looking forward to reading the rest of the adventure and last nights snippet. Now if I can just find the time to finish writing what really happened, . . . I mean, what I saw happen.

Re: [sigil Campaign] Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics I'm telling you, somethin' ain't right with this one. Maybe he's just not ripe yet? Great background story, I love reading em all.

Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus Well its been a long time since my last post but we started playing again and so I finished this up today. Have fun reading and remember I don't claim to be a writer, just someone who loves telling the "real" story. The walk was a fairly long one from the Arched Gardens to the Fortunes Wheel, one that I did not relish, but with the knowledge that a completed task would open my doors to more influential contacts made the walk tolerable. Marv and Steelweaver decided to come with me, much to my disappointment, with Ogdru and Christoph left to collect up the now rotting corpses of the were-rats. As it turns out the wagon idea pulled through, no pun intended, as they now had something to remove the vermin. Eventually arriving at Fortunes Wheel I was again assaulted with the sounds of fools and the parting of their wealth to wealthier hands. I turned to the open mouthed Marv and Steelweaver and shooed them away telling them to gamble and leave me be. Like the obedient little dog that Marv is, he quickly moved into the room to find some way to loose his few coins, the size and blood covered clothing making that trip rather easy. Steelweaver, decided to just follow in his wake and looked confused, although I did notice his eyes as they coveted the coin purses dangling from unwary owners belts. The path to Shemeshka’s office was a different one than I had already taken, this route being reserved for employees. As with Steelweaver I followed in Ebon and Niren’s wake with neither a glance nor an explanation to any of her house guards as to why I was here. As we approached a stairway up to her office I could hear the cries of anger from some individual that was not pleased at having his meeting cut short because of our arrival. I saw the weak, pale faced man as I laboriously moved up the stairs, already tired from the amount of walking that I had endured this day. The man was smart enough to let me pass before descending down the stairs, as I had no intention of moving out of his way. Very few things in Sigil warrant a new path and I choose those moments very carefully. The office upon entering looked the same as before, trappings that were neither valuable or important, just brightly colored. Upon seeing Nirens face, I would imagine that Shemeshkas’ tail began wagging, as a puppy would at the sight of its master. An analogy that was fitting, as information and its gathering was Shemeska’s master. Thankfully neither Ebon nor Niren took the lone chair in front of her desk and so I allowed myself this one weakness to relax in a chair with a cushion. As I took my chair, Niren handed the book over and Shemeshka slowly caressed the cover of the book with her paw, and then quickly covered the book back up and set it aside. Payment for my men was given to me in the form of a small sack of coins that landed rather heavily upon her desk. The book Shemeshka told me would in fact contain more work for me and my hirelings if I was interested, and of course I said that would suffice. Her lackeys knew where I frequented and could easily reach me when the task presented itself. The nod told me the meeting was over, and even though I regretted leaving the comfortable chair, the newly gained contact was more than enough to stifle the groan that should have escaped my lips as I stood. Nodding to Niren as I left, I overheard Ebon mutter something to Niren that I could not make out. My best guess would be that she was giving a warning to Niren about my person. That afforded me a smile and so I left the Fortunes Wheel to head towards the Black Bird. It wasn’t until I had entered the Black Bird that I realized I had forgotten about Marv and Steelweaver. For the first time I was surprised to note that none of those who I have associated with lately were in the tavern. The bartender, noticing my pause chuckled and said he thought it was odd as well. After getting my stein filled I sat down in my usual seat and waited for the others to arrive. I expected Marv to be one of the first, as his luck could not be better than the houses and he would soon be out of coin, which meant that he was soon to be out of drink. I was therefore surprised to see Christoph enter before the rest. About the time he had gotten himself a drink and sat down, Marv and Steelweaver came in. Marv it would appear had won money, because his big meaty paw held out in front of him was holding some coins. After getting their drinks Steelweaver and Marv sat down and I tossed the purse from Shemeshka on the table. Christoph opened the purse and said there’s 25 gold in there. “Yes,” I replied, “you were all paid very well for your services and the 5 gold coins you each now have should ensure future work.” Christoph said that he would hold onto Ogdru’s coins and then handed me the 10 gold that I had loaned him earlier in the day. A small, sad sigh was my only reply to the payment of debt. Christoph then handed everyone some more silver saying that the mortuary paid well for the bodies of the rat men. Marv took notice of that statement, and I imagine there will be a new rat catcher in town. A shrug and finishing of my ale allowed me to leave before any festivities ensued from the now well paid men. The next few days were like any other, simple studies on some more information gathered about a new herb that grew on one of the lower planes peaked my interest for a few days. Around the usual gathering time, I straightened up the lab and made my slow hobble to the Black Bird for drinks and to inform the usuals that more work would be coming our way from Shemeshka. I noticed there were a few new faces in the crowd this night but paid no heed and proceeded to the table where Marv was already drinking with Christoph and Steelweaver. Oddly enough, Ogdru or Cadak and his meat puppet were not present. Once again I sat in my usual chair and was immediately assaulted with the usual questions from Christoph on how my day was, and what did I do. Again I looked at him and with a weary face replied, “you wouldn’t want to know.” I have yet to understand why I tolerate his presence. The sunny disposition he eerily exudes gets rather tiresome, but I manage to endure this without a wrathful thrashing. Maybe he is plane touched somehow and this is his gift, irritating and comfortable at the same time. All I could make out from the conversation between Marv and Steelweaver was Marv’s constant finishing of a sentence with, “and then they gave me more money.” It would appear that a new vice is forming within the peanut shell of Marv’s head and gambling as well as drinking would now consume his already dreary little life. It was at this time that I noticed one of the new faces approaching our table. A freakishly tall elf moved to our table and sat down, a brown coffee smelling drink grasped with his thin hands. I asked “who are you and what do you want?” Hoping the reply was “do you make contact poisons?” did not happen and since I noticed no discernible weapon other than a strange staff he wore over his should on his back I doubt he needed any. No justified murders this night it would seem. Sad really, the elf looked frail. Tall, gaunt, and very breakable. I imagine Marv could flick the man to death, and it wouldn’t even take that long. Instead the elf replied he had no name and asked if I knew Ogdru. This in itself told me that he was new to sigil, only the new ones ask direct questions without offering something as payment or a reason for the query. Information in sigil is readily available and never free. You may give it out for nothing but that person is usually in danger of dying for not answering, so in fact you are paying something. Since there was no explanation as to why this elf wanted Ogdru, I answered with only a simple, “I know him.” Apparently this was not enough of an answer, even though I did answer the question. “He works for you?” the elf asked. Again another question and still not an offering for my time. So another blunt answer as I was already tired of the elf and actually wanting to hear the dull droning of Christoph instead. “He has worked for me in the past.” At this point I hoped either the elf would get a clue and ask straight out why he wanted Ogdru or just leave. He didn’t catch on as he then asked yet another question, “do you know where he is now?” I believe its the unexplainable aura that radiates from Christoph because I didn’t introduce him to the wonderment of Nehrulls blade. “NO!” I snarled hoping that at last now the elf learned that I was tired of his presence. “When did you last see him alive?” the elf asked. The group at this point looked up as the question startled them, I on the other hand was tired of the constant questions. The elf had been playing in the berry bushes too long and his brain was in fact pickled, no one person could be so daft as to not recognize my ire. Even Marv had been more interested in his empty drink than the conversation that was happening. The only way I was going to be able to enjoy this evening was to get rid of the elf, either with the scythe or just plain making the elf understand that asking the right question would be preferential to death. “I saw him a few days ago, here at this table when I paid him for his last job. Now why do you want to find him?” I cursed. “To charge these” was the reply and the elf dumped a handful of precious stones onto the table. Marvs eyes shot open as if someone tried to stab him in the back, Steelweaver too looked shocked and Christoph almost fell out of the rickety chair he is always leaning back in. Again the fascination that money holds over these fools shocked me. All this ire, this desire to murder the elf in front of everyone in the room, caused by some shiny little stones some dwarf probably pulled out of some planar mountain. “Good luck finding him.” I replied once again focusing my eyes back on my tasteless drink. The rest of the crew looking not at the elf or the room, or even their drinks but instead to the stones that the elf was putting back into a bag. The elf undaunted said that if he could not find Ogdru that he would need money so he could find someone else that would enchant them. He heard that I paid well for good work and asked if I was hiring. For the first time in the whole of the time the elf actually had a real question presented with a valid excuse for asking it and wasting my time. To be honest, I immediately had a vision of one of the many devils in Ribcage gutting the elf while on a “job” and a smile crossed my lips, thankfully the helm masked such a show of compassion. I answered his question and said that I occasionally hire people when I had work to be done. Instead of leaving it at that, the elf started poking again. “So these men work for you?” he asked gesturing at Marv, Christoph and Steelweaver. Marv immediately began looking into his mug again trying in vain to find more ale. “I have hired them in the past!” I grumped. “And their terms?” the elf asked slowly. Then it hit me. He was trying to bargain. Something that I am not used to when dealing with the other fools seated at the table. The elf was trying to be clever, prove he was intelligent or at least thoughtful. Too bad my anger had gotten the better of me, because the bargaining had ended the moment I realized what he was trying to do. I informed him that these men showed up here and if I had a job, that I would hire them and that I would pay them well when the job was over if they survived. “How much of a percentage?” the elf asked. So the tree hugger was educated, and knew mathematics, or at least knew the word percentage. I smiled knowing that if he was in fact book learned this answer would not be what he wanted to hear. Looking at all three around the table, and using my fingers as a tool to help the elf understand, I held up four fingers. Twenty-five percent, each. Marv nodding in agreement, with a smile on his broad face. “Of the gross?” the elf asked again? Inwardly I chuckled. He at least picked up on what the others did not, there is generally more money involved than what is given out as pay. In this case the elf assumed that wealth was a motivating factor for me which was false. The money was there to help me continue my work in Nehrull’s name, not for personal gain. “You get an equal share of the money I pay for doing the job.” In my head I added that if he wanted more, kill more off the men and the percentage grows. The answer was not what the elf wanted to hear, and as such he said that he wanted to revisit the deal once his skills were noted. I nodded since the revisit result would be the same. His abilities were not any more important than Marvs ability to take damage and deal it back out ten-fold. Of course I could let it slip that the elf wanted more money to the men and let them visit their own brand of justice on the elf for even trying to weasel out more money. Sitting back into my chair I was about to return to my long neglected ale when a small scrap of parchment was laid in front of me by one of the bar tarts. With a deep sigh I unfolded the letter and read a warning saying that I was in danger and that the individual in the corner would be able to help. Looking in the corner of the bar, the shadows parted for a small second to reveal a man I hadn’t noticed yet. Christoph leaned over my shoulder and read the note at the same time as I did and together we looked into the corner discovering an individual we had not noticed before. I excused myself and slowly stood while Christoph leaned back to ponder the note and its meeting, thankfully I left the elf to bother Marv. Maybe if I was lucky there would be a loud screaming sound as Marv took the stones from the soon to be dead elf. Sadly the only noise was caused by Christoph as that rickety chair he insists on sitting in tipped over, spilling Christoph rather unceremoniously on the tavern floor. After reaching this strangers table the shadows still continued to hide the individual from casual sight. I admit that even my eyes at this range had a difficult time tracking onto the figure with the cowl pulled over his head. The voice though was unmistakable, a demon. The deep, dual voice sound gave its greeting and the shadows lessened. “Interesting note,” I said to the demon. A slow nod and its reply that something of this import should not be discussed in such an open forum. I chuckled at this since I had no care who heard. It was at this moment that Christoph appeared at my side looking at the shadowy figure before me with ever hateful eyes. No sooner had we realized that Christoph was there then he reached out and yanked the cowl down from the figured seated opposite me. “What are you doing, Christoph?” I asked since the action amused me. He just stared for a moment, then his shoulders slumped and his eyes lost the fury that was so recently there. He turned and went back to the table leaving me to talk with a young looking human that looked as frail as the elf. “I am Darkchant the Fiend,” he said looking a little perturbed at Christophs now retreating back. I don’t know if he is a real demon or just a tiefling, but I was at least interested in sitting over hear rather than back with the elf. “So, who wants me dead?” I asked. Darkchant replied, “the actions in the Arched Gardens was known to him and that Lothar was very ‘upset’ with the intrusion of his theft. I shrugged at this, since I did not care what Lothar thought, much less what Lothar thought about me. Darkchant sensing my casual attitude to the news added that Shemeshka was in fact hanging me out to dry, as Lothar was more interested in me now than he was the book. I admit that I was surprised to hear this, but there was nothing that could be immediately done to rectify that situation. Again I shrugged my shoulders and dismissed the fear monger. Darkchant then said that he was interested in working for me, and that his skills in information gathering could possibly sate Lothar’s anger and get him to back off. This seemed so odd, a possible demon telling me about a fictional threat against my life that he could purportedly take care of and keep me safe. Since I dismissed the threat and the possibility that there was even a threat, I told him to do what he could and left the table to rejoin the others. My expectation was, that would be the last time I would see Darkchant the Fiend. As I got closer to the table I could see that the elf was still there, as were the others, and I was in no mood to listen to the ramblings of the common folk so I turned and headed home. Upon entering I noticed that something was wrong. Objects had been moved, a potion bottle in the lab had been broken, its contents staining my floor a deep green. I did a quick inventory and noticed that several expensive herbs and instruments were missing. It was at that point that the rage that had been building all night resurfaced, no longer cowed by Christophs good humor, the words of Darkchant dancing in my mind, all I could think of was Shemeshka. With a howl of disgust I tore open my door and stormed towards the Fortunes Wheel, anger fueling every step. Upon arriving I moved to the stairwell leading to Shemeshka’s office, when the guard moved to intercept I stopped on the stairs and turned to face the guard. With a very strained and semi-controlled rage I said, “Shemeshka, now!” He stammered out that she was currently with someone, and so the rage bellowed forth from my voice as I unleashed the fury of Nehrulls name and grew to the full height of the armor and screamed, “NOW!” The guard froze in his tracks as did almost everyone in the Fortunes Wheel, only a few guards moved towards the staircase sensing trouble, but moving much too slow to stop me. After a few seconds the guard stuttered that he would inform her that I was here and stumbled up the stairs to her office. A moment later the same man that had to leave early the last time I had arrived here was being ushered down the stairwell with apologies for the inconvenience. He noticed me and with an accusatory finger, he pointed at me and yelled, “you again?” I brushed him aside and moved up the stairwell into her office. Once the door was closed Shemeshka stood and said that even though I had done her a great service in helping her get the book, my favor with her was quickly fading. Realizing that my anger had gotten the better of me, I asked her in a more civilized tone than I had used on the guards, “Why didn’t you tell me that Lothar was after me now and not the book?” Deciding to ask this would allow me to learn if what Darkchant said was in fact true and because I realized that I had no reason for being here. She shrugged and said that information was never free, but she didn’t think I would have any problem dealing with Lothar if he attempted anything. Chewing on this for a second allowed me to calm down even more and realize my mistake in coming here. A new and powerful contact could very easily be lost if I didn’t play my cards right. Shemeshka sensed my calming and even seemed to relax somewhat herself. I imagine that Ebon or Niren was close by just in case I got out of hand, and realizing that I was coming to my senses meant that she was not in any danger. Although I doubt she would be in any danger even if she was alone. I looked up and told her that my lab had been gone through, and that items were missing. Knowing that I was trying to save face she graciously allowed me to do so and said, “It was not my men.” “Then who?” I asked. Suddenly her toothy grin reappeared as business presented itself, so she smiled and said that information like that is never free. “Find out.” I said as I reached into my armor and pulled forth my coin purse, tossing it onto her desk. The amount meant nothing to me, only the information that it would buy. When it hit the table, several of the baubles bounced, and I imagine Shemeshka’s ears picked up on the sum of money that was now in her possession. She now knew that money was not a motivating factor in my life and that business was all I cared about. She took the peace offering and said that she would find out. With that I nodded and left the room. The walk home was painfully slow and for good reason, the rage had left and the ability to ignore pain was over. I used that pain as a reminder to myself to not let my rage take hold of me. It was a lesson that I knew I would forget after a short time, but for now, I would remember. I arrived home and cleaned up the mess left by my burglar, writing down all the missing herbs and instruments so that I could replenish my stocks. Somewhere during this time I managed a few hours of rest, never getting what I wanted, but enough to keep me going. A knock on my door on the next morning woke me and I opened the door. In front of me was a rather non descript man that said Shemeshka was ready to see me about a job and that she found out who took my belongings. My that little fox can work fast I thought. “Who?” I asked. The answer surprised me, “Ogdru.” I stood there for a few seconds letting that sink in. It made perfect sense, he was the only one that had been in my lab, he is the only one that would know what was important to take. Eventually I stopped thinking about ways of strangling the little opium addict and looked down noticing that the man was still standing there. “Anything else?” I asked. He seemed surprised and said, “no.” So I stared at him for a second or two longer than asked “why are you still here then,” to which he ran off. As I followed the messengers path my eyes came upon the elf. He was watching my house it would appear, waiting for Ogdru. The elf nodded to me when he realized that I saw him, with that I turned and closed the door. A few seconds later he was a knocking on my door and I was not surprised to see the elf looking annoyed that I had ignored him after opening the door back up. “What?” I asked, annoyed knowing that bad news travels in threes and seeing the elf after finding out about Ogdru was only my second curse. “Ogdru did not go to his house last night.” the elf said. To be honest I was shocked that Ogdru even had a house. I can only imagine what a hovel that must be, when all your waking hours are spent using opium or finding more opium to use later. I told the elf as much, to which he said that he still needed to find him. Depressing as that was to hear, our fates seemed intertwined as I too desired to find him. “Then our interests coincide for now.” I said as I turned and closed the door. Later that day after purchasing a few of the missing instruments and making sure that they worked I headed over to the Black Bird to inform the “men” that I would be needing them for a job later this week. As usual Marv and the others were there, even the elf was there drinking that foul coffee of his. When I sat down, after filling my stein Christoph immediately began the litany of questions I have become used to hearing. This time I told him that Ogdru had stolen some things from me. The elf snapped to attention at that, while Christoph asked when it happened. I told him, “some time yesterday afternoon or early evening I imagine,” surprising myself that I said this calmly. This caused the elf to spring into action as he bolted for the door. Marv was also heading to the door, but went the opposite direction from the elf after leaving the bar. I realized that mentioning a mere sighting of Ogdru would cause the elf to leave my presence and so I pocketed that thought for later use if needed. Christoph and Steelweaver still stunned at the sudden departure of the others digested the information and for once we drank in silence. A few moments later, Darkchant came into the tavern and small snicker on my part reminded me that I had thought I was done with this individual. He came to our table and sat down, all the while covered in that shadow. “I heard about last nights activity at the Fortunes Wheel,” Darkchant said as he was sitting down. “Yes, my rage got the better of me. A grievous mistake, but Shemeshka and I worked it out. In fact I am to meet with her this evening to discuss a job.” Darkchant nodded at that information, “I had heard as much,” he replied. “I also was able to convince Lothar to leave you alone,” Darkchant added. To this news I thanked Darkchant, but informed him that the concern for my well being at the hands of Lothar was something I was not concerned with, rat men or not. The ability of Darkchant to gather information quickly may be of use to me and as such was pleased when he asked if he could come along for the meeting with Shemeshka. I nodded and said we would leave here some time before anti-peak. Darkchant agreed to meet me later and left the Black Bird to do some of his work. The rest of the day was uneventful, and peaceful for once. That evening Darkchant did in fact return and was cordial enough to not outpace me on the trek to the Fortunes Wheel for our meeting with Shemeshka. Along the way he attempted to shield my presence in his shadow to see if I could in fact become more stealthy. It must have worked at the visual level because many of the local sigilians would almost bump into me, but at the last moment would notice my presence and move quickly out of the way. Darkchant decided that he should cancel that ability as it may cause a complication along the way, knowing my temper. Upon arriving at the Fortunes Wheel I noticed that all of the men were now here, Marv gambling away his fortune with Steelweaver watching on. Christoph waved as we entered, but I ignored the wave and proceeded to the stairs. No sooner had I reached the stairway than Steelweaver was at my heels. Watching Marv loose his money must be excruciating for someone like Steelweaver, or at the very least boring. When reaching the door to Shemeshkas office, I turned and handed my scythe over to Steelweaver and proceeded into the office with Darkchant in tow. I imagine Steelweaver stood there for a few seconds before realizing that I had just casually dismissed him. The office looked the same and again I quickly made my way to the comfortable chair with the cushion. It was at this time that Shemeshka noted Darkchant’s presence. I cannot tell if she was displeased at this or if she was just surprised, but there was some history there. Something that I will have to ask about later, for now there was business to attend to. As it turns out, the book actually is about a hazard mage. These are the mages that are known as the elite class mages, very powerful and as such very dangerous. The book described the location of one such hazard mage, or of his grave. The book also shed light on how he could be returned to the living. Shemeshka wanted me to do just that, then bring the book back so that she could control him. The threat was idly placed about trying to use the book ourselves, or running off with it, but was not needed. I have no desire to attempt to control a hazard mage, something I imagine Shemeshka is more than capable of doing. The payment would be the collection of any loot while in his tomb, and a small fee up front and a much larger fee on completion. All these promises of wealth and power, although not desired by me but my men, where at the end of the job. Something a clever business individual promises to someone when they do not expect them to come back. So the mission would be difficult, this I figured. Waking a hazard mage wasn’t the real problem, getting to him was going to be the issue. Traps are usually laid by the powerful and paranoid, so Steelweaver would be needed. Since we were going to have to travel to another plane, this elf may be able to track the location so unfortunately he too was needed. Darkchant’s skill at finding out information about the mage would be needed before we left as well as during the excavation I would imagine. Marv, well you can never have enough meat shields and he was one of the better ones. Christoph I was unsure of, but his skills are not all known to me, his dealings with the Dustmen may help provide some useful information, but more than likely his ability to absorb a few hits should suffice. For the next few minutes we talked pleasantries and decided that in a few days time we would come and retrieve the book before leaving Sigil. So with our new job planned, the gathering of information began.