The Ashrisen

Ashrisen - The Beginning

The hooded man leaned back and his eyes fell upon the the iron chandelier hanging in a chain above the dark oval table. His gaze followed the chain

upward, where it disappeared into the shadows of the black ceiling. There was an eerie silence in the air and everything was still. Xuerin closed his eyes

and took a deep breath, embracing the tranquility.

With the recent visit from the Master of Darkness, to have been within His actual divine presence, Xuerin felt more invigorated than he ever had.

Still he was aware that there was much to be done.

As his mind started to drift away, he habitually started to rotate the inscribed onyx black ring slowly around his finger. All of a sudden

an intense pain burned through his finger, spreading out in his hand. Xuerin clenched his jaw as he hastily pulled the ring off, leaving it

spinning in the middle of the dark table next to an open tome. As if in trance, Xuerin stared at the ring with his cobalt blue eyes, as its spinning

came to an end. Illuminated by the candle standing on the table, the ring started to glow, emitting a red hue, before suddenly disintegrating into

a pile of ashes. Like a freezing wind from the coldest of nights, a determined voice spoke out in the Knight's mind.

'K'ycer, it is time'

With a startle he woke up wide eyed as the door to the library opened.

'Oh, excuse me Warder' the Petitioner said and swiftly closed the door again before Xuerin had time to respond.

Muttering to himself, he lowered his glance and looked at the black ring still around his finger. He closed the tome in front of him and sat still for a moment,

tapping his fingers against the book, before grabbing it and getting up from the chair. His steps toward the polished wooden shelves were muffled

by the rich crimson carpet. Placing the tome back in the shelf, Xuerin pondered on the vision that had struck him a few days ago.

A vision of a massive battle, where friends and foes alike were fighting in the largest battle he had ever imagined. But just as quick as the

vision had begun, it had ended.

Xuerin's mind and body came to an abrupt halt a few feet from the oval table, as he noticed his orb hovering just above it. From the shadows of his hood,

Xuerin peered at the orb as he carefully reached out and put his palm on it. It was warm, and was definitely getting warmer. He let go and observed as

the swirling of the ashes inside of the orb accelerated into a blur of blackness. Xuerin took a quick step back and covered his face with his black sleeved arm,

shielding his eyes from the sudden bright flare erupting from the orb. A black gate, shimmering with a dark red hue, rose up from the ground as

the library flickered with darkness. Xuerin stared right into the enigmatic portal in front of him. A chill ran down his spine as the determined voice

spoke out in his mind once again.

'K'ycer, it is time'

The cold voice echoed through his head. As if coerced by an esoteric willpower, Xuerin stepped forward into the gateway. The black gate vanished and stillness

overtook the library once again.

Ashrisen - The Other Side

With one hand on the rocky ground supporting him, Xuerin took a few deep breaths, trying to shake of the daze. He lifted his gaze to survey the surroundings,

as his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness that pervaded the damp small cave he now was in. A strange mist combined with soot swirling around in the air made

it hard to see more than a dozen steps. Xuerin turned to look what was behind him. The jagged wall of uneven dark brown rock forming a dead end. Between him and the

end of the cavern a black obelisk rose up from the ground. Three, to Xuerin, unknown ancient looking symbols were carved into the front of the four feet tall

obelisk, and affixed to the top was a dark crimson red gem.

Still kneeling down, Xuerin flinched slightly and quickly turned around as a malicious voice  echoed in the damp cavern, 'Young K'ycer, I apologize

for the way of bringing you here'

In a defensive position, with one hand on the hilt of his obsidian sacrificial kris, Xuerin stared into the dim darkness of the mist as a man of menacing stature

stepped forward. A black hood was pulled over his head, only revealing the lower part of his face. A black cloak streaked with red

flowed down his back, and the rest of him  was covered in slate black plate-like armor.

'Worry not Xuerin, we are not your enemy'

With his face showing a hint of scepticism, Xuerin remained still, keeping an observing eye on the man looming in the murky haze before him. As the man

took a step forward, he removed one of his black gauntlets and held out his hand. Xuerin stared at the onyx black ring the mysterious man was wearing.

He recognized it well.

'Who are you? And why have you brought me here?' Xuerin asked as he stood back up, looking searchingly into the shadows hiding the man's eyes.

The man put his gauntlet back on and gestured invitingly toward Xuerin, 'Come with me, I will show you'

After a few minutes of walking through the ten feet wide gloomy cavern, the mist finally diminished. By two braziers, one on either side, the jagged

dark brown walls and the rocky ground came to an end. The hot embers in the two braziers cast a dim red glow on the dark corridor leading ahead. The ceiling

and the walls were made of large blocks of rough black stone, while large tiles of polished black slate covered the floor.

They stopped just before the braziers and as the man turned his head, Xuerin caught a short glimpse of his dark emerald eyes, seemingly

pulsating with an energetic force.

'Welcome to the Cult of the Ashrisen, Xuerin'

The man continued a bit forward to meet the crimson robed woman that came walking toward them in the dark corridor. Her skin was rather pale and she

had long raven black hair. She nodded in reverence and exchanged a few words with the man, before throwing Xuerin a quick glance and turning around,

leaving the same way she came.

The man turned slightly and nodded once over his shoulder to Xuerin.

Shadows flickered and danced slowly in the hallway they continued through, which was illuminated by several torches set in wall brackets. They came to

an halt in the corridor, where a large wooden door was set in the right wall. Twisted invocations and chants could now be heard from not far ahead,

where the gloomy corridor seemed to open up into a much larger hall. 

'Have a seat Xuerin, we have a lot to speak about' the man said with a commanding voice as he opened the door and motioned inward. The sound of

the door slamming shut behind the two men echoed through the shadowy hallway.

Ashrisen - The Orb

The torches set in the wall brackets burned silently, illuminating the dark and gloomy room.  The two men had been there for a while now, one

speaking and one listening.  Xuerin sat perfectly still in one of the high-backed chairs, his hands partially joined together, resting his lower

arms against the table.  His dusky hued face was a stony mask, devoid of any expression, as he stared absently at the black stone wall behind the man

sitting at the other side of the table. 

His father.  Darmon K'ycer.  The cult.  The sun.  Ancient energy.  Dark essence.  The K'ycer bloodline.  Ashrisen.  Xuerin's mind was a chaotic blur

of thoughts.  His head was spinning, but he did not have time to think about all of this right now.  Xuerin regained focus and looked at the hooded man

sitting in front of him.  There was something special about this man.  His observing dark green gaze.  Xuerin could feel it. 

'Young K'ycer, it is time for you to see' the man spoke, his voice filled with determination, as he got up from the chair and motioned for Xuerin to

follow him. 

Back out in the dark corridor, Xuerin noticed he could no longer hear the invocations and chants he had heard when he arrived.  The corridor

eventually opened up into a vast chamber, with walls of large rough black stones and a floor of polished black slate tiles.  Near the walls in each of

the four corners of the hall, a large obsidian pillar supported the structure.  The center of the dark ceiling arched up into a high stone dome,

swallowed up by shadows.  In the center of the walls, large archways had been crafted, leading elsewhere.  At each pillar there was an onyx brazier,

burning with hot embers.  Xuerin slowed down his pace, carefully surveying the surroundings.  The light from the black wall torches and the burning

embers caused eerie shadows to dance slowly through the chamber.  Except for himself and the black armored man leading him, none was seen.  Their steps

echoed through the large hall.  In the center of the chamber, the floor was slightly elevated, forming a square platform of black marble. 

'Behold, ' the man commanded as he came to an halt, 'the Orb of the Ashrisen'

As if assailed by thousands of new impressions, Xuerin gazed deeply at the object in front of him.  In the platform's center, a short obsidian pedestal

was set, holding a huge translucent orb.  Inside the orb, ashes swirled around slowly and in an irregular pattern.  Xuerin's mind started to drift

away, as if lost in the tranquility of the mysterious orb.  He could feel something peering into his soul.  Hungry eyes searching his subconscious for

unknown treasure.  Vague voices echoing on the fringes of his mind.  Was it Darmon?  A second later, it was gone. 

The man removed the hood covering his head, exposing his bald, very pale looking head.  He took off one of his plate gauntlets and held out his hand,

palm first, toward the orb.  As he slowly moved his hand around, the black substance of the orb seemed to partially react and follow its movement,

before returning to its irregular flowing.  

'By the power of the essence locked within...  ' the man whispered with a sinister voice, stopping mid-sentence.  He remained silent for a few

seconds, before speaking up. 

'You will return home for now K'ycer'

'You will know when it is time'

The man turned around.  His face was cold and impassive, but his eyes burned with green fires of determination and dedication. 

'This is only the beginning'

Ashrisen - The end of the beginning

On a small trail in the cooling shadow of a dark forest, the Lord Templar strode northwards along a massive stone wall.  On the other side of the wall

the city of Verminasia pulsed with life and diversity as dawn slowly broke over the land.  

Xuerin traveled with determined steps.  It was long ago since that voice spoke out the first time, sending freezing surges through his body.  It was

long ago since he was brought to that place.  Much had changed since then. Still, he remembered the last words like they were spoken yesterday.  

'You will know when it is time.  This is only the beginning'

Then, nothing.  Until now.  It was not like before however.  There was no cold voice echoing through his mind.  No esoteric willpower that coerced

him.  No sinister voice telling him what to do.  It was something deep within him, awaken and emerged to the surface.  Something calling for him,

guiding him.  It was just a feeling.  A feeling, filled with foreboding.  A feeling, he had to follow. 

Xuerin stopped and gazed at the dark structure in front of him.  He had reached his destination.  A grating sound filled the air when the stone door

slowly opened.  The Knight unsheathed his broadsword and tightened his grip of his massive shield as he entered the darkness.  Xuerin peered

inspectingly down the dark and gloomy hallway he now was in, as the door closed behind him.

The ceiling and the walls were made of large blocks of rough black stone, while large tiles of polished black slate stone covered the floor.  A dim

red glow was cast on the floor and the walls from the hot embers in the braziers on either side of the hallway. 

Xuerin moved forward, prepared to strike back at any threat.  An uncanny feeling started to spread within him.  The place felt...  Familiar.  Had he

been here before?  Was this the temple he had been brought to the last time? It all looked similar, but it was not the same. 

As the hallway came to an halt, so did the Knight.  Before him stood a menacing statue of a human-sized man, constructed of pure obsidian.  Covered

 in plate armor, the man had a hood pulled over his head, creating an enigmatic blackness instead of facial features.  A slate plaque attached to

the front of the platform read:

'Khax Rhurin, Herald of the Ashrisen'

Khax, Xuerin thought to himself, further contemplating the portrayed man standing proudly on the platform in front of him.  There was something about

the man, something he recognized.  Again, something familiar, but he could not put his finger on what it was.

Xuerin turned and continued through the archway crafted into the western wall.  Before him a vast chamber opened up, constructed in the same fashion

as the hallway.  This large hall he definitely recognized.  The large obsidian pillars near the walls in each of the four corners, supporting the

structure.  The center of the dark ceiling arching up into a high stone dome, swallowed up by the shadows.  The onyx braziers burning with hot embers

and the eerie shadows dancing slowly through the chamber.  This was where he had been brought. 

Xuerin scanned the chamber for any kind of life.  Nothing.  No one to be seen.  There were no twisted invocations or chants to be heard like that

night either.  Only silence.  Then, his gaze fell upon it.  The Knight moved forward, up on the slightly elevated square platform in the center of the

chamber. 

The orb. 

The huge translucent orb, set upon a short obsidian pedestal.  Ashes swirled around slowly inside, playfully and in an irregular pattern.  Xuerin dropped

his shield and weapon to the ground, removed his helmet and reached out toward it. 

His mind started to race.  He could feel it once again.  Something searching his soul and subconscious, a sense of warmth filling him.  Again, a vague

voice echoed on the fringe of his mind.  Darmon? 

'We failed'

Xuerin reeled back as glimpses of faces wrapped in failure and despair hit him.  The warmth within him coiled away in fear, as tendrils of unknown evil

spread within his mind, clutching for his sanity.  The swirling of the ashes within the orb sped up, creating a blur of darkness, growing in

anticipation.  Flicks of light began to gather mysteriously in the room. Grabbing his head, Xuerin fell to his knees, screaming in pain as the air

around started to shimmer and ripple.  The agony ripped through him and he could feel the air tingling against his skin, as if some massive power was

to be unleashed.  Then, with an ear-shattering blast, blinding light filled the chamber, as the fabric of reality itself almost cracked at its seams.

When the light was gone, so was Xuerin, and only silence remained.

Ashrisen - A second chance

Had it all been in vain?  Everything that Khax Rhurin, Darmon K'ycer and the rest of the Cult had worked for.  Energy of an ancient time, legended to

hail from an epic battle between fathers of opposite sides.  Long ago - a piece of the sun, the dark essence of Necrucifer - an occurrence.  Powers

intertwined.  For centuries locked away within the orb.  Those guarding it, those searching for the secret to unlock the fullness of the powers, now

trapped.  Was this how it would end?  

Suddenly a powerful blast ripped through the chamber, and the entire place shook as it was filled by a brilliant burst of light.  The Knight hit the

ground with a violent crunch of bones and armor, his head smashing hard against the black marble.  Xuerin let out a short gurgle as he lost

consciousness, his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

 ==========================================================================

You tell Beydalar 'The time is closing in, Disciple. I will need your aid soon.' 

Beydalar tells you 'Indeed?  Of what do you speak?'

You tell Beydalar 'Several months ago, after been missing for some time, I was found wandering the deep mists of the mired banks west of Verminasia. Do you remember?'

Beydalar tells you 'I do.'

You tell Beydalar 'Then you also remember that after my return I was not the same. My memories were blurred.'

You tell Beydalar 'While some of them returned, obviously some did not, as I have no recollection of what transpired during and just prior to my absence.'

You tell Beydalar 'Ever since that day I've had a feeling of foreboding lingering within.. growing.. tearing at my mind and will.'

You tell Beydalar 'This must end.'

Beydalar tells you 'Tell me what I can do to help you.'

You tell Beydalar 'I will in time. Meanwhile, prepare yourself. We will travel when night has swept the sky.'

** Some waiting **

You tell Beydalar 'When you are prepared, join me within my chambers.'

The Chamber of Theology

  An arched doorway with a pair of solid dark wooden doors leads into this well-sized room.  Constructed in the same fashion as other parts of Storm

Keep, the floor and the walls of this rectangular shaped chamber consist of large black marble blocks, laboriously polished to perfection.  The floor is

covered by a large plush carpet of dark crimson, spanning almost the full size of the room.  Solid brackets are bolted into each of the four corners,

holding black braziers which burn silently while illuminating the chamber. The ceiling is slightly domed and its center magnificently depicts a

blackened sun being pervaded and extinguished by Necrucifer's glorious darkness.  A large rectangular table, crafted of the finest dark mahogany,

occupies the middle of the room coupled with several high-backed chairs.  Three more burning braziers are evenly affixed to the southwestern wall,

while two large bookcases of the same wood as the table line the northweastern one.  One of the bookcases contain two locked cabinets, where

the Lord Templar stores his or her personal documents and records.  The rest of the shelves are filled with various tomes, documents and treatises

collected from all over the world.  Against the inner most wall of the chamber an altar has been raised, fashioned of the purest black obsidian.

The wall itself has been kept clean from adornments to represent the purity of the Shadow Knights. 

 [Exits: northwest  ]

  A large rectangular table crafted of the finest dark mahogany stands in the middle of the room.

The door opens.

Beydalar floats in.

Beydalar closes the door.

Beydalar now follows you.

Beydalar joins your group.

You say 'I suspect those inhabiting the place we will venture through do not get many visitors. We will make an effort to stay out of sight.'

Beydalar slowly fades out of existence.

You slowly fade out of existence.

Ok.

You stop using an unholy symbol of Necrucifer.

You hold a glittering white stone in your hand.

You draw upon the power of a glittering white stone.

It flares brightly and vanishes!

A shimmering gate rises up before you.

You hold an unholy symbol of Necrucifer in your hand.

Beydalar peers into a shimmering gate.

You turn translucent.

You nod.

You walk through a shimmering gate and find yourself somewhere else...

Hero's Graveyard

 [Exits: south  ]

  Rows of marble headstones for fallen heros stand here.

(Red Aura) A mysterious lady in black weeps over the loss of a loved one.

Beydalar has arrived through a shimmering gate.

** Some walking **

An abandoned art studio

 [Exits: north  ]

  Resting here, waiting to be used, is a fine brush.

Xuerin gets a torch from one of the wall brackets, before turning and pointing at the tapestry depicting a skeleton slaying a Knight.

Xuerin says 'We move through there.' as he walks towards it.

Beydalar nods.

You walk through a fine tapestry and find yourself somewhere else...

A forgotten entrance

  Stepping from the dark tapestry, you find yourself in a dark room.  The

walls and ceiling have been constructed with a dark stone, even still it

looks as if this room was torched.  The smell of sulfur hangs thick in the

air.  There are no apparent light sources, or exits of anykind. 

 [Exits:  ]

Beydalar has arrived through a fine tapestry.

Xuerin holds out the burning torch and vigilantly scans the room as his eyes slowly adjust to the decreased amount of light.

Xuerin turns to Beydalar.

Beydalar glances at you.

You say 'The halls beyond this derelict chamber contain secrets of distant times.'

You say 'Times when a few men and women spent much of their lives here within, interpreting and examining lore hailing from the most ancient of times.'

Beydalar stands examining his surroundings.

You say 'Performing various rites and experiments of the more gruesome nature, involving everything from long-tailed rodents to the pure elements of this world themselves.'

You say 'To this day, there are still those aimlessly wandering these halls, trapped and forever lost in the horrors of their past.'

Beydalar nods.

You say 'Unless they disturb what we came here to do, we will ignore them.'

Xuerin nods at Beydalar, 'Let us continue.'

Beydalar nods.

** Some walking **

Summoning Room

  Many balls of light on little pedestals are situated throught this room.

Many archaic symbols have been carved into the floor, some surrounded with

painted symbols and connecting lines.  The ceiling has also been painted to

represent a mirror image of what is one the floor.  A small plaque can be

seen on the inside of the door. 

 [Exits: north northwest southeast  ]

Xuerin comes to a halt, 'We are here.'

Xuerin reaches the torch towards Beydalar, 'Take this, Disciple.'

Beydalar glances about the room, noting the carvings as he takes the torch from you.

Xuerin says 'Secure the adjacent chambers.' as he begins to slowly walk through the room, surveying all the carved archaic symbols and lines.

** Beydalar sneaks around taking care of business **

Beydalar returns to your side.

Xuerin sits down on his knees, removes his helmet and sets it down on the ground next to him, along with a small leather pouch.

You say 'During a period of my own Shadowknight training I spent some time in exile upon the lands of Crelius Atennim, where I was taught lessons of high importance.'

You say 'You see Disciple, there is a side of God's dominion that commoners, and even Knights alone, do not realize.'

Xuerin removes his plate gauntlets and places them at his side, 'There is God's dominion upon this world, and then there is his dominion outside of it. Both equally potent.'

You say 'And they are things a Shadowknight must learn to master at all times.'

Beydalar nods.

You say 'This world, and the spirit world.'

Xuerin opens the small pouch, reaches inside and palms some of the white pure sand, 'If you earn entrance into the Sanctum, God himself will grant you the right to take from that very place, grant you the power to harness the energies from his realm outside of Algoron.'

You say 'You will in a sense, exist there.'

Beydalar nods reverently, his eyes glancing between the carvings on the floor, and what you are doing.

Xuerin begins to slowly move his arm, while carefully pouring the sand onto the ground following a certain pattern, 'It is not an easy thing for a man to fathom, and certainly not something you will learn quickly.'

You say 'But the path you seek will ultimately require it.'

Beydalar nods.

Beydalar says 'Whatever is required, I shall do.'

Xuerin offers Beydalar a small nod and says 'During his lifetime Crelius earned a certain reputation with not only those upon Algoron, but also with those whom exist outside it.'

You say 'Phantoms of the stygian places, wraiths of personages long dead and still ever vengeful. '

Xuerin repeats the process of retrieving sand and pouring it onto the ground several times, while continuing speaking.

You say 'All who sought to visit him as often they could, to torment and remind him of the past.'

Beydalar frowns slightly as he watches you.

You say 'While I was spending cold long nights within his cathedral, devoid of succor and hearth, Crelius took down his wards against those that frequent his lands.'

You say 'It was during this time that I learned that those of old are not silent.'

You say 'That I was exposed to some of the ancient haunts and vestiges from the old eras of Shadow, Eclipse, Malice and even farther back.'

You say 'And from one certain spirit, once frequenting these very halls.'

You say 'And that is why we are here.'

You say 'This being has the ability to travel the paths of the mind, something it was not shy of making evident one of those nights.'

Beydalar nods.

Beydalar says 'I have met similar creatures before...'

Xuerin unclasps his symbol of Necrucifer and places it in front of him, 'Then you know that the invocation of such a spirit is not without risk, and I doubt it will aid without compensation, if at all.'

You say 'The exertion of will that this requires will put me in a trance-like state, and will momentarily have me severely weakened.'

Beydalar grips his blades a little tighter.

Xuerin looks up at Beydalar with his ashen countenance, 'And that is why I need your aid, Disciple.'

Beydalar says 'Yes.  I see.'

You say (to Beydalar) 'You will be the one speaking.'

Beydalar says 'What do we want from this... thing?'

You say (to Beydalar) 'I want it to travel my mind, and restore what is lost.'

Xuerin says 'Unless it craves for my very soul, give it what it wants.' Xuerin gazes at Beydalar with his black eyes, the remaining hues of cobalt blue still left within only a fraction of what once was.

You say 'I cannot have this fail.'

Beydalar says (to You) 'Then it shall.  Whether I must force it, bribe it, or what have you.'

Xuerin nods at Beydalar, 'Then I begin.'

Xuerin places his hands palm up on his plated thighs and lowers his head slightly.

Xuerin closes his eyes and begins to focus his mind, a serene expression overtaking his cold visage.

Beydalar sheathes his swords, knowing that they will be of little use, and stands to the side of you.

Xuerin starts to mouth inaudible words, his features now stern and concentrated.

Xuerin keeps chanting silently, traveling deeper into the trance. A vague black mist slowly begins to arise from the floor as the ritual continues.

Xuerin remains motionless save the silent mouthing of words, an eerie cold beginning to settle within the now darkened chamber.

Xuerin suddenly stops the inaudible chanting and sits completely still. A distant look now covers his face, as if his mind has traveled far away from his body. A vague shadowy form suddenly emerges and takes shape from the mist.

Beydalar faces the form.

Xuerin remains deep in trance - The spectral figure floats menacingly above the floor, robed in obscure darkness. From the waist down, it trails away into vaporous nothingness.

Xuerin remains still in trance - The wraith-like form's eyes flash red with vengeance as it bears down on the two men in the chamber.

Beydalar meets the spirit's gaze and opens his mouth to speak.

Beydalar says 'Being of the netherworld.  Hear me.'

Xuerin remains motionless and silent - The spirit hisses forth with an infernal voice 'Xhuzuul uth yk maalgarh arh rukhk slaazhuh vyzle.'

Beydalar folds his arms.

Xuerin remains deep in his darken trance - The spirit motions toward Beydalar and scowls 'Who are you human? Who dares to summon me?' The fury in his spectral voice more than palpable.

Beydalar smiles slightly, 'You have been summoned to perform a task.  One that will aid the knights of Shadow's work upon this plane.  You -will- perform this task.'

Beydalar says 'In the name of God, you will perform it.'

Xuerin remains motionless and distant - The spirit hovers in its place, gazing at Beydalar with his ethereal vision, as if pondering the puny human speaking.

Beydalar continues to meet the being's red gaze.

Xuerin remains deep in trance - The spirit speaks 'And what aid do you seek from one of the stygian realm?'

Beydalar says 'The other in this room has lost a part of himself.  A gap in his memory.  You will restore it.  You will make him whole.'

Xuerin remains still in trance - The spirit speaks 'And who are you, seeker of the powers I bestow, to command me?'

Beydalar unfolds his arms, raising himself to his full height.

Beydalar says 'I am Beydalar Yildiz.  Shadow knight of Necrucifer.  It is in HIS name that I command you.'

Xuerin remains deep in heavy trance - The spirit speaks 'You are not arrogant enough to believe this comes without a price, are you human?'

Beydalar chuckles, dryly.  'No.  I know your kind.  What is your... price?'

Beydalar smirks slightly.

Xuerin remains motionless and distant - The spirit floats over to Xuerin, circling him slowly for several minutes, before speaking again 'This Shadowknight. His gifts. I can perhaps make use of them, in time.'

Beydalar nods slowly.

Xuerin remains still in his darken trance - The spirit keeps circling the unresponsive Knight in silence, before floating toward and around Beydalar 'We have a deal then, human?' The chill of peril lingers around the spectral being as it speaks.

Beydalar says 'I am permitted to offer you some service in exchange for yours, yes.'

Xuerin remains deep in trance - The spirit flies back toward Xuerin while saying menacingly 'I will come then one day and claim what is mine.'

Xuerin remains motionless and silent - The spirit positions himself behind the sitting Knight, proclaiming 'Break this bond Shadowknight, and I will haunt your mind forever' before evanescing, traveling deep into the mind of Xuerin.

Beydalar grits his teeth slightly.

Xuerin suddenly awakens with a startle, arching his back backwards, gasping deeply for air.

Xuerin breathes heavily as he regains his consciousness, a small trail of blood running down from his nose.

Beydalar glances at you.

Beydalar looks at you.

Xuerin wipes the blood off and turns his head to Beydalar.

You nod at Beydalar.

Beydalar says (to You) 'It is done, then?'

Xuerin begins to gather his belongings, 'Yes, it is done.'

Xuerin stands back up.

Xuerin tips his head in reverence, 'Thank you Disciple, whatever you did.'

Beydalar nods at you.

You say (to Beydalar) 'We must return to Storm Keep. I have much to do.'

Beydalar says (to You) 'The thing was simple enough to deal with.  You do however owe it a favor in the future.'

Xuerin nods, 'As expected.'

** Traveling back to Storm Keep **

Ashrisen - Restoration of the Mind

Xuerin was in a deep trance after the performed summoning.  His mind drifting on the edges of Necrucifer's otherworldly dominion, gathering

strength to return to his mortal casing in the earthly realm.  Then suddenly something assaulted him, a spectral force penetrating and surging through

his consciousness.  And with this, memories once lost in the murky darkness of the past, flashed revivingly before him.  

Memories of when he was first brought to the cult's halls, during his time as a Novitiate of Necrucifer's Church.  All the things he was told by the

man he would later come to know as Limdul Rhurin, descendant of Khax Rhurin himself.  Things he understood little of at the time.  And the orb.  The orb

it was all about.  

The night of his lone return, when he had only found the occult halls to be empty.  When he had reached out toward the orb and been struck by images of

the cultist's faces wrapped in despair and failure.  

Xuerin now remember it all very clearly.  Not only that which transpired prior to his absence from Storm Keep, but also during.  

When the ear-shattering blast and the blinding light filled the chamber that night of his disappearance, Xuerin had been plucked away from the earthly

realm, becoming a prisoner in the same void, the same unknown plane of existence the other cultists were trapped in.  

It was inside this place of confinement where Darmon K'ycer, current leader of the cult, was able to reach Xuerin with his thoughts, due to his

manatonic prowess.  

Much was revealed to the Shadowknight.  The true origin and goal of the cult, and the legend of its founder - Khax Rhurin.  The fact that Darmon was

not only his own old mentor from his early years within Verminasia, but also his true father.  The story of his half brother, Maethul K'ycer, one of the

most prominent Relic Hunters the cult had ever fashioned.  The plan and reasons why this all had been kept secret to Xuerin, until now.  The

theories involving what had gone wrong and the entity believed to dwell inside the realm of the orb, responsible for their current fate as

prisoners.  The mission to locate Maethul and to save them all.  

The combined mind powers of the cultist had then set Xuerin free, but something went wrong, and his memories faded away.  Now however, they had

been restored.  

Xuerin awoke with a sudden startle, as something brought his mind back to where his human body was resting within the gloomy summoning room.  Gasping

deeply for air, his back arched backwards in a momentarily spasms as energy not felt before coursed through him.  After having regained his composure,

Xuerin turned toward Beydalar and offered him a simple nod. 

Ashrisen - Repercussions (I)

The light from the black wall torches and the burning embers caused eerie shadows to dance slowly through the vast chamber.  In its center on a

slightly elevated platform of black marble, the two brothers made their preparations in disciplined and grave silence.  The plan was clear.  If it

would work however, was far from.  

Xuerin looked up from the old, weathered parchment he was holding, his cold gaze disappearing into the calm shadows of the domed ceiling above.  The

gathering of his mind had become easier with age, not the least with the arduous training of the Sanctum.  His thoughts easier to confine, to settle

into the required path and state.  For just a brief moment he traveled back to his early days within the kingdom of Verminasia.  Days when he was still

unblemished by the trials his life would bring.  The trials of God.  And with this a familiar voice returned.  

'Always remember my boy, a path with no obstacles leads only to nowhere.'

Xuerin lowered his glance, giving the cloak enshrouded man a nod.  

'Let us carry on, we have no time to waste.' he remarked, his eyes aglow with burning dedication.  

At the given command, Maethul cautiously approached the area directly in front of the translucent orb.  Producing a small clay gourd from one of his

satchels, the Relic Hunter kneeled and tipped it gently, pouring the thick dark liquid in a carefully followed pattern, eventually forming an arcane

glyph.  Upon finishing the last connection of the creation, it promptly ignited with a flash of bright light.  As the light eased up, the glyph

revealed its pulsing deep blue glow.  

Proceeding with the process, Maethul withdrew an intricate diamond prism from his weathered leather satchel.  The plate mail clad Shadowknight gazed

stoically at his half brother's tranquil countenance and the prism he was holding, offering a nod of approval 'The Prism of Iruzmalr.  Darmon told me

of its powers.'

'Let us hope he was not wrong.' he added coldly.

Maethul nodded absentmindedly as he examined the diamond artifact, his expression one of thoughtful observation.  After a moment's silence he

responded callously 'Let us see.' as he placed the prism in the center of the glyph and stepped back.

Ashrisen - Repercussions (II)

The Shadowknight stood firmly, his battle scarred shield raised to protect against the unexpected shock wave of white light that had engulfed

the chamber.  Xuerin breathed slowly as he held his position, ominous shadows moving silently across the grim plate armor encasing his entire

frame.  

Something was wrong.  He could sense it.  An ancient evil pervading the very air around him.  The Knight cautiously lowered his shield to the side.  The

entire chamber was now dimly fogged, and soot and ashes filled the air, adding to the murky darkness.  

A wave of bone-numbing cold suddenly washed over the Shadowknight as his gaze met the empty eye sockets of the being emerging from the mist on the

other side of the chamber.  A draconic wraith of insubstantial form, menacingly composed of shadows, ashes, bones and flesh.  

'FREE AT LAST' the horrid creature roared in an unearthly exclamation, as it rose triumphantly, laying claim to its new domain.  Xuerin felt unrevealed

eyes peering into his soul as the wraith beckoningly hovered toward him.  A feeling he recognized from once before.  

'WEAK MORTALS, YOUR PATHETIC EFFORTS ARE IN VAIN.  THEY ARE FOREVER LOST.'

it hissed forth scornfully, spreading its clawlike wings threateningly at Xuerin.  

The Shadowknight stood resolutely before the foul being.  He could feel the pall of agony surrounding the creature pounding at him.  Yielding was not an

option, however.  

'You speak as if the battle is already fought, abomination.' Xuerin responded, clenching his armored fist around his sword.  

The draconic wraith released an insane cackle, before snarling mockingly

'HAVE YOU NOT NOTICED YET HUMAN?  PERHAPS I OVERESTIMATED YOUR KIND. CONSUMED FROM THE INSIDE, SOON YOU WILL BE NOTHING MORE THAN ASHES IN THE

WIND.'

Xuerin leered at the shadowy orb he had had in his possession for long.  The ashes inside this time seemingly taunting him with its never-ending

swirling.  The wraith's words had brought the Shadowknight a grim insight. Xuerin's eyes darkened even more as he returned his gaze to the creature,

the remaining hues of cobalt blue still left within, soon completely overwhelmed by the malevolent blackness.  

The Shadowknight raised his sword and called to his God, as he charged the wraith with unholy strength.  

Ashrisen - Repercussions (III)

Maethul stumbled back a few steps as he ducked his head and threw his arm up in a shielding gesture.  The protective move was futile and without

warning his vision was impaired to nothingness as the brightest of white saturated his consciousness.  He winced and staggered uncharacteristically,

but to no avail and his legs gave in and failed him.  Unwillingly the floor came closer and Maethul collapsed in a heap, paralyzed by an overwhelming

agony in his left eye. 

The reaction of the procedure was stronger than he anticipated and it seemed whatever force it had tapped into, now retaliated.  The prism of Iruzmalr

ostensibly exploded into millions of rays of light, connecting with the orb but also expanded through out the entire chamber, one of them relentlessly

impaling the Relic Hunter's left eye.  Even as Maethul collapsed, the ray of light bent and traced its new found end with no remorse.  Pure white flames

blazed and shone from the left eye socket of Maethul.  The intensity of the burning magnified continuously as the ray of light etched deeper and deeper

into his mind.  The whiteness was overpowering and all concepts were lost to Maethul as his body writhed in soundless pain on the black slate tile floor.

He passed out as the pain became unbearable. 

Reality slowly seeped back into Maethul's consciousness.  He felt the cold black slate tiles against his back and slowly willed his body to his side.

The whiteness that had clouded his vision had only subsided slightly and he was not sure if the surroundings were bright or if his eye was still lit.

As he reached a hand to his face it appeared blurred and as he moved it closer to his left eye it became clear the flame had been snuffed.  Moving

his hand to the left socket, he was surprised to find the eye still there and not just a void. 

Slowly he regained his composure, fighting of the pain and dizziness that had come of the prism's chaotic spread of rays.  Gradually he rose to his

feet, realizing that the surroundings were now noticeable darker.  Ashes and soot filled the air, creating a thick darkness around him.  As the vision

continued its reluctant recovery, Maethul become aware of his other senses once again.  The ash- and soot-filled air tapped his aching body gently as

it swirled through the air.  A smell redolent of burning tissue provoked his nostrils.  The sounds that filled the chamber was what pressed his will to

recover by great lengths however.  The murky darkness was pierced by the sound of battle-cries and metallic clashes and as the eyes adjusted further,

an alarming sight struck Maethul.

Ashrisen - Repercussions (IV)

Through the swirling soot and ashes Maethul saw an insubstantial form menacingly composed of shadows, ashes, bones and flesh.  Willing his eyes to

adjust quicker, the form appeared draconic and massive, the horrid features of its composition leading Maethul to turn his gaze to the other figure he

made out through the darkness.  The Shadowknight fought with an ardor unknown to Maethul, sending staggering blows to the draconic form and not

yielding to the blows he suffered himself.  Lightning flared as the Shadowknight clashed with the overwhelming entity time and time again.

Briefly pondering on engaging the being with his brother, Maethul's inner admonished him about his calling.  Maethul closed his hurting eyes for a

moment and slipped into a brief contemplative trance.  He reflected upon the circumstances and recent past, searching for any lessons he might have

learned from them.  Through his mind he retraced the plan that they had set out to execute.  It was a crude yet potentially effective plan they had

crafted.  It had not allowed for any setbacks however and considering the situation they now found themselves in, the events had long left their

desired route. 

The satchel.  Maethul opened his eyes rapidly again and scanned the black tiles intently for his satchel.  As the eyes found their prey, Maethul

scrambled through the sooty darkness and grabbed the satchel firmly.  He opened the container with narrowed eyes to withdraw the unholy flame that

endlessly burned within.  To his surprise the emancipating flames did not persecute his eyes as he drew the flame from the container.  Letting it rest

in his palm for a few seconds, it flared stubbornly yet yielded no burns to the hand it lingered in.  Maethul waited patiently, measuring each beat of

passing time.  Striking too soon would be disastrous, striking too late even more so.  He was not even sure it would bear any effect at all. 

The beats of time kept flowing, Maethul's gaze steadily fixed on his brother's struggle against the imposing entity.  The moment crept closer.

He counted carefully and braced himself to deliver the flame to end their nightmare.  The ball of flame flew from his hand, untouched by the air it

pierced.  The draconic form released an ear-shattering wail as the unholy flame pervaded its very being. 

Ashrisen - Repercussions (V)

The Shadowknight whirled to the side and barely slipped away from the vicious blow as the draconic wraith lashed out with a taloned wing.  The

draining effects of battle had started to settle within the human, now haunting both his body and mind.  Xuerin took a deep breath as he focused,

bracing himself to deliver another assault on the the hellish forge of flesh and darkness looming before him.  

Just as the Knight was about to launch his attack, the abyssal being arched its monstrous form in twisting pain, as if already struck.  With its ghastly

wings fully spanned, it wailed upwards with ear-shattering force.  

The Shadowknight saw his opportunity.  Channeling every last remaining fiber of strength within his aching body, he leaped forward with God-given vigor,

plunging his sword deep into the creature's fleshy abdomen.  As its inner essence was pierced by the blade, the infernal beast howled in

anguish-filled panic.  Thrashing its body fiercely, desperately trying to feed on the last remaining specks of light lingering within the gloomy

chamber, it struck and sent the human spinning through the air.  Xuerin landed on the ground with a sickening crunch, a writhing shadowy tendril

ominously trailing his flight.

The Shadowknight struggled for composure as he rolled over from his back and with a great heave pushed himself to his knees with his left arm.  The ash-

and soot-filled mist that previously filled the chamber dissipated in front of his eyes, as the surroundings returned to normal, the accursed being

seemingly gone.  

'You're bleeding.' Maethul spoke shortly as he nodded toward his brother's right arm and watchfully scanned the chamber.  

Exhausted from the onslaught, Xuerin glanced down at the blood dripping from the joints of his gauntlet, pain lighting his entire being.  His attention

focused on something else, however.  

'I'll be fine.' he muttered, 'Check the other rooms.  Quickly.'

Xuerin's dark gaze fell heavily upon the sword he still held tightly in his grasp.  The swirling shadows now enveloping the blade snaked downwards to

momentarily surround his hand in a menacingly cold embrace, before receding back.  The hilt trembled in his grip, and he heard a low hiss of whispering

in the back of his mind.  

'Feed me.'

The Shadowknight looked back up, his glance landing on the short obsidian pedestal set in the middle of the vast chamber.  Upon the pedestal, a huge

translucent orb still resting.  Within the orb, ashes still swirling around slowly.  But it was not the same.  

Nothing was the same.