Lanal 17 – Vulūne 14, 652 DR: Wherein Dammon finds himself in the care of strangers and with a different outlook on the world around. The walk to Oris, Dolor and finally Cenotaph where Dammon speaks with the undying and is introduced to Tharad’Zor. The House of Dreaming and Artana’s terrible price. Adāe’s favor.

Continued from Ēgùlðar’s Rest.

Malídor, 17 Lanal 652

There is a steady dreamless dark. Many days pass.

Wōdìndor, 5 Vulūne 652

The magician was awakened by a chill that wound its way deep into his bones. He could hear quiet conversation of distant voices. It sounded like singing but the words were not familiar. Somewhere below there was another sound, the sound of dripping. Slowly the dreamless dark drew back its curtains to reveal the shapes of people far below. They were arranged in a circle and their small voices were joined in strange music. As feeling returned to his body, Dammon became aware that he was suspended high above the floor where the chanters stood. His skin was drawn tightly about his bones as hundreds of small hooks kept him aloft, his back flat against some surface above him. From each hook dangled a long red string, channeling blood into the darkness below. Beneath him the darkness grew closer as the sound of gears and levers drown out the chanting of those below. Soon the darkness divulged a shape, the shape of a man. Each hooked string led to a corresponding needle on the body rising beneath him. As the last drop of blood flowed from its hook, down its string, and into the rising shape the thing’s eyes opened and Dammon’s vantage shifted from above to below. He was overcome with nausea, but too weak to act upon the urge. Looking upward, he watched the last traces of life ebb from his old body as the dreamless dark returned.

Several days passed.

Talídor, 10 Vulūne 652

Dammon awoke to darkness except for the flicker of distant candlelight. Finding his feet and leading himself forward through the void, he found a larger room where a backpack of his things had been left. Standing in the nearby shadows stood an attractive young woman, though something was wrong with her mouth. Drawing closer, the magician could see that her lips were cinched closed and swollen with dangling threads. The voice returned, welcoming Dammon and revealing the room’s secrets to the magician with a quick trick of sight. Dammon questioned the expressive young woman who led him from the old foundry into the barren hillsides surrounding Vullinshrith. A day’s walk found them crossing farmers’ fields, and wandering down long country roads until they arrived in Erhet. They stayed the night in a small and bug-infested room.

Padídor, 11 Vulūne 652

In the morning, Artana and Dammon walked north toward Dreg’s Brewery and into the boroughs of Oris, Dolor, and finally abandoned Cenotaph. Among the empty buildings and streets of Cenotaph, Dammon found a circle where three creatures sat upon the ruins of an old fountain. Dammon spoke with the creatures which looked like men, and was granted passage. As he passed, he saw the fountain was filled with parts of the dead. Across the circle they came to the house of Tharad’Zor, where Artana had been leading them these last days. No one answered the door so they entered. In a rear room they found the old mage sitting at a table’s end, his clawed hands gripping the pages to a large book. Tharad’Zor made Dammon a generous offer, but Dammon refused and left with Artana in tow. Returning to Dolor, Dammon found a small inn for the night.

Bærídor, 12 Vulūne 652

The next morning, Dammon took Artana down to the river where they walked for some time before Dammon addressed her. He gave the choice of Tharad’Zor’s offer, or freedom. After much confusion and fright, the young woman chose freedom. Within the hour the two were crossing the river bridge and were headed toward the House of Dreaming in Wesridge. Alō Madrælō greeted Dammon and his traveling companion. Alō retrieved some healing salves and Dammon went about the business of cutting the threads from Artana’s lips, who had not eaten in days. Once finished, Artana retired early in the inn’s comfortable rooms. Alō and Dammon stayed up late before the dining fire, exchanging stories and catching-up on events in their lives.

Virídor, 13 Vulūne 652

That night Artana woke gasping and clutching her neck. Dammon rushed to her aid and found that her throat had been sliced open. With the blood cleaned away and the wound more carefully examined, Dammon knew exactly what had happened. Artana’s voice box had been ripped to shreds, so that the woman could not speak of the cabal. Dammon addressed his familiar on this matter and was not at all surprised by its unsympathetic response. “You do not yet need to know what she can tell”.

The next morning, Dammon took Artana through the twisting streets of Wesridge and Northaven until they found a familiar road winding into the Northfields. Past the Hanging Tree they followed the dirt road to the farm of Jōçim to see an old friend of Dammon’s, Adāe the Healer. They found Adāe, but other than sealing the ragged wound on Artana’s throat there was little he could do. The two sat in the shade of the large tree near Jōçim’s house and talked about old things for the day’s remainder. Toward evening Dammon asked if Artana could stay here for a while, in safety. Adāe explained that he was leaving shortly but that Jōçim would be more than happy to watch over the young woman. With Artana provided for, Dammon left the farm and wandered back to the House of Dreaming while night descended in the streets. His eyes scanned the night for the winged demons that Alō had mentioned, but he saw none in his slow wandering. Once again, Dammon found the priceless comfort of a deep sleep at the inn.

Palídor, 14 Vulūne 652

In the morning, Dammon Shroudson returned to the City to find his companions.

Continued in A New Companion.

Characters

• Dammon Shroudson
• Alō Madrælō
• Artana
• Familiar
• Jōçim Fælō
• Irgul
• Tharad’Zor
• Toquis
• Vardeth

Played: 14 May 1998