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Bastards & Broadswords Origen's D&D 5E campaign.

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Old 05-29-2014, 06:44 AM
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Baelfyre Baelfyre is offline
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Default Jahodda, priest of the Book

Normally, Jahodda liked light. But this was entirely too much of a good thing, he thought as he slitted his eyes against the morning sun and licked cracked lips. The raft under him rocked softly in swells, and gulls called above. Two weeks, he thought to himself. Two weeks since the ship had hit something and sunk. He didn’t really know what had happened. Jahodda tried to go over it again in his head, wondering how he had misread the Book. He’d been sleeping in his hammock when there was a loud crash and water started pouring in. He’d barely had time to grab his pack before he slid out into the water, surrounded by wreckage. While there was wreckage everywhere, there were no bodies. That was somehow more eerie than the ship falling apart in a clear sky…
Between the salvaged supplies and the ability to purify water, he figured he had another couple of weeks to live.
* * *
Yawning, Jahodda worked at the contraption of lenses and prisms over the book, turning here and twisting there getting the purple just right. Only the purple worked for the future. Why was beyond him, but somehow the purple tasted right when the clock went forward and bad when it went back. But only the right purple. Not the purple through the amethyst, but the purple from the prism then shone through a diamond.

He was almost sure the dwarf wouldn’t miss just one little diamond.

Besides, he’d been dead anyway. Well, mostly. But his eyes has had that greasy green look that said some asshole necromancer was going to animate him. Jahodda was pretty sure that pouring oil on him and setting him on fire had put paid to that idea. Unless the asshole necromancer was planning on using the skeleton. But the skeleton wouldn’t care that Jahodda had taken the diamond so that was all right.
Well, anyway.

Opening the Book to the fifth page, it looked the same under normal light that it always did. Blank. Blank like it had been since he used the spell on it. But Jahodda knew better. He knew it wasn’t really page five, because what page it was changed now and then. Putting the purple light on the page, he fell in to the strange structure of lines and words and blood that somehow seemed to reach out of the Book and fall in at the same time…

It’d been scary the first time, when he was 7. But he knew some of the rules now. Blinking, he looked around at the tunnel of purple light cutting through the landscape. Rule one, he thought. Keep moving. Suiting thought to action, he stood up off the greasy grey substance he’d been lying on. Veins of <id84jd> colored light moved through it in pulses; pulses that hypnotized the weak willed and stole their minds.

Jahodda thought that’s what had happened to the old guy he’d found the book on. But there were so many ways to lose things in the Book… He remembered losing his sanity once; he wasn’t sure he’d actually found his own, but this one worked well enough. Most of the time.

Moving through tunnel of light that twisted and turned through what he thought of as a landscape made of clocks and books and thoughts and time, visions came to him. A troll, a ship, a thing in a cave leaving holes to the dark in men’s head. The usual. He saw things here. Things hammering at the tunnel, trying to get in. Things with too many eyes, or none. Things with fangs, things with nothing where there mouth should be. Sometimes he prayed they weren’t real. Sometimes it helped. Sometimes, though, he’d take a mirror and see what reflecting light from the tunnel would do to them. Usually they screamed. Even if it hurt, it was good when they screamed.

Without warning he fell out back into time looking at a name on the side of a ship. Starmist.

He barely had time to see the name before the tunnel pulled him back. That was fine. He had to find a ship named Starmist and take passage on it. But first he pulled out his mirror. He was going to have nightmares tonight, and he wanted to share. Things with a hundred eyes and twenty mouths could scream a lot.
‘Temporarily and unwittingly employed as God’s attack dog’ might go to his head.
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