Riaxh

[D&D 5e] Shadow World ~ A West Marches Campaign

Eudaxia

Eudaxia's awareness returned gradually. First there was the throbbing. It felt as if her heart had decided to squeeze itself into her head to try and awaken her with its pounding beat. Then a sharper pain in her leg as feeling returned to her extremities. She made a feeble attempt to move, but couldn't do more than wriggle. She was locked in a stock. She hung limply on her knees in the rough wood's grasp, her entire body aching with the strain of the position. She could feel swelling in beftween her horns where she must have been knocked out by the guard.

Groggily opening her eyes to slits, she turned her attention externally, taking in the dim light of her surroundings. The first thing she noticed was that the chamber she was in was far from quiet. Opposite her were cells crammed to the brim with rowdy people emanating a stench of sweat and filth, which overflowed their contents onto chains that hung from the walls. She wasn't alone in the stocks either. She turned her head, hearing the clinking of the irons around her ankles behind her as she struggled. A fiery haired dwarf was constrained on her left, and she could make out the distinctive ears of a half-elf on the prisoner to her right. Both hung limply like she did.

A slow fear began to creep into her chest as she processed her situation. She was at the keep. In the belly of its dungeon. Crackling torches lit its dark walls, and she could spot a wrought iron door out of the corner of her eye on the left. Other than that there was no exit. The walls of interlocking stone were bare save for where they were draped in rusty iron chains. Despite her discordant lifestyle, she had never been dragged back to prison before, and every narrow escape and mad scramble through the streets had been fuelled by a secret dread of ending up in this place.

Now she was finally here. She supressed the feeling. It was useful on the outside, but not anymore. She had no idea what awaited her. She needed to weigh her options, but first she needed information.

"How long... have I been out?" she rasped towards the other prisoners. Her tongue felt thick and dry like sandpaper in her mouth. The dwarf turned to look at her, but said nothing. She tried again, her foggy mind beginning to tick, asking about how often the guard passed and her belongings. There was a chance he knew where they would be taken.

The Dwarf growled beside her. "Who the fuck knows, tiefling. The guards come when they feel like it. They can come anytime as far as I'm concerned and open this bloody stock!"

She lapsed into silence. Escape was impossible in her current state, even without the stock, she was too weak. But maybe there was a chance she could talk her way out of this. She ran over what had happened in the square again in her mind. If she could convince them she wasn't a magic user, there was a slim chance they would listen.

"What's the point. We're all going to die." The half elf beside her muttered. She could see he had a scar above one of his eyes now, which were wild, his gaze making her uncomfortable. Even restrained in his stock, he seemed jumpy and skittish.

"If they were going to kill us, they wouldn't have bothered with the stocks" she said firmly... but not entirely convinced. She shouldn't hang, not for stall pinching. But who knew what they would do to her. she was half surprised the brutes from the watch hadn't just thrown her into a gutter to bleed out. Just the thought of being at their mercy made her want to thrash and squirm in her stock until she was free, no matter the damage she would do to herself.

The sound of keys jingling came from the iron door at the end of the room. "Nerull is coming. He swallows the world. His shadow calls." The elf sobbed.

what the hell. "Quiet" she hissed. Though his words gave her goosebumps. There had been much mentioning of demons this night. "get a grip man. what are you in for anyway?"

Only the iron door replied, its hinges complaining as they were swung open. A grey bearded man in a white robe strode in with a bad at his side, a guard lounging behind him. A relative silence came over the chamber as he approached the stockade, observing his three prisoners.

"Salutations. I am Wilo and I shall be your host during your stay. As you can see we are exceedingly busy for Founders Day, so you may be here for some time before the Lord's magistrate can hear your case. Until that time, be on your best behaviour and we will get along just fine." he said. There was something discomforting about the man, and it took Eudaxia a moment to put her finger on it. It wasn't that he spoke as if he were simply an innkeeper explaining the house rules. It was that he was very clean. Freakishly so. Despite working in a filthy dungeon, no grime soiled his white robe. His nails were neat and free of dirt. Even his long beard was combed and had no food in it.

This was a man from a different world than Eudaxia, she thought. If she was lucky, he would also be free of its prejudices. "Please" she said. "I shouldn't be here. I was haggling with a merchant. They used me as a scapegoat!"

"Save it for the magistrate." Wilo replied coolly.

She hesitated, then changed tack. "The case... what will it involve?" she asked. She needed to know what chance she had. On the streets, few would trust a tiefling's word. She was trash. Nobles saw her as even more so. But from experience she knew some in higher society could be so sanctimonious it could override even that.

"First, let's see to your wounds." The man approached, kneeling down beside Eudaxia and pulling a small bottle from his bag. She could feel her leg sting painfully as he poured a clear liquid over it, wiping it away afterwards with a cloth, but the pain brought a kind of relief, and clarity. "An account will be given by the arresting officers and witnesses. The magistrate may or may not ask for your testimony. He will then determine your guilt."

"Shaemus, the Larethian Priest... he would vouch for me... He was with me that evening..." she said weakly. It was a gamble, since he knew she could do magic, but he might speak out for her.

The old man rolled up his sleeves, pulling out a needle and thread. He began stitching her wound. "I shall make a note of it."

"So how long will I need to rot here for?" she asked as he worked.

"Until the magistrate can see you. Likely until after Founder's Day" he replied, beginning to bandage her leg.

She couldn't wait that long. Founder's Day was too good a chance to make money. "But this guy won't stop going on about the shadow of Nerull... and I was just buying a walking stick for my friend... please..." she did her best to give him a pleading look.

he peered into her eyes, appearing to reach a decision. "We will get to the bottom of it, my dear. Do not fret. "he turned to the lethargic guard, wrapping the leg tight with bandages. "We will question her next. Fix her upon the rack in the morning." the old man said standing up, moving back towards the door and missing Eudaxia's expression of horror. "Good night one and all." he said as they disappeared behind the door, locking it with a resonating, final click.

---

The night passed in slow agony. She tried to sleep, but between the half elf whispering his disturbing mantra to her right, and the accumulating pain of her bonds, she could not rest. The fate that awaited her come morning hanging over her, she spent the time in a kind of daze. Alternately raging and despairing over her predicament within the confines of her mind, as she went over the events of the night over and over. How it had all gone so wrong. The ones in the crowd who'd attacked her. The one who'd tackled her had used her magic. She was sure of it. What did that mean? What had he wanted from her? Her thoughts tumbled into confusion as she finally entered some parody of sleep.

The reprise of the door's hinges roused her from her stupor. She felt exhausted and afraid, but part of her was happy the wait was over. She managed to stand up as the two guards unlocked her stock, snatching the brief of moment to stretch and bring some relief to her protesting muscles. They weren't a pretty couple. One was short with a lazy eye. The other's face was almost entirely covered by a badly done tattoo. She didn't need to put much weight on her injured leg, as the guards then began to practically drag her from the room.

"Hope you had a good rest tiefling" Lazy eye said.

"Aye," tattoo smirked. "Wilo has a taxing morning in store for you, I'm sure." Eudaxia didn't reply, instead steeling herself for the trial ahead. Beyond the iron door lay a collection of empty cells, probably for more permanent residents. They went past these, through another door. This chamber somehow seemed darker. An old rack, also of iron, dominated the centre with the weight of its history.

Wilo was waiting for them. Both he and the room were unusually clean. "Strap her to the rack" he ordered, his face grim.

Eudaxia regarded the rack. "You don't even care about the truth do you?" she asked, afraid. If this man wasn't interested in her innocence, if he just wanted to hear a confession, then she didn't stand a chance.

The guards pushed her forward, tattoo gripping her horns with the same smug smirk as he pushed her backward onto the rack as lazy eye strapped in her limbs and waist. Wilo shook his head. "My dear, the truth is all I care for. I take no pleasure in this, really."

"And I wonder how many poor souls have screamed confessions to things they haven't done in this room, to end their pain." she said, letting her anger surface to try and hide her fear. She regarded him defiantly. "Know however that I will not be one of them."

The gaoler sighed as he watched her being tied. "Torture serves two purposes, both as a deterrent to crime, and to surmise the truth. My methods are honed, I assure you. I can decipher the panicked cries of the desperate from that of the truth. I fear your confidence is ill placed. I've seen many a stout heart cave to my methods."

The bonds tightened. Eudaxia could feel her body being pressed against the cold iron, and her heart beating furiously in her chest. She could make only the tiniest of movements. This is really happening. Wilo checked the bindings, pulling on them and checking for slack. He nodded to the guards, and they took their leave, the door slammed closed, sealing her in with Wilo. He sighed, his tone no less grim. "Alone at last."

The silence that followed was too much for her to bear. "Well?" she said. "Let's get this mockery of justice over with."

The jailer regarded her seriously. "I give you this one last chance to confess, my dear.... Did you attempt thievery upon the merchants of Hero's Square?"

Uncertainty filled her. Was this really worth getting tortured over? She couldn't know how they would punish her. She could end up a slave. But there was more than that. She didn't want to prove them right about her. "No." she said obstinately. "I was buying a gift for my friend."

His eyes narrowed. "Are you proficient with the use of magic?"

The question was unexpected so soon, but the one she wanted. He had looked into her case. The urchin gave a condescending laugh. "Do I look like a descendant of Godsbane's?"

The old man stroked his scraggly beard. "No, I suppose not." he said finally. "Yet there was some trickery you employed, according to witnesses. I will get to the bottom of it." She lost sight of him as he retreated into a dark corner of the room. This is it, he's going to pull a lever and pull me apart on the rack. But that's not what happened.

It was far worse.

A collection of fine silver instruments gleamed from the case Wilo brought on his return. Knives, needles, screws and tiny saws. All very sharp and of course, all impeccably clean. He selected a long thin needle, its point reflecting the small amount of light in the room, and gazed down at her with what looked like pity, his gaze shifting to her hands. Her fingernails. "I really do wish this wasn't necessary". He said.

she sneered. "Admit it. It doesn't matter what I say. You're just as bad as the rest."

"I am but a servant of Haven, my dear. Not long ago I would have taken your hands. You should consider yourself lucky." he admonished.

Then he got to work.

And Eudaxia discovered she could move vigorously on the rack after all.

Leaving the needle in its place, Wilo pulled out another. "Its okay to scream, my dear, in fact it may help to cope with the pain." He said exercising his dark craft one needle at a time.

"taken the hands... of an innocent... without evidence..." she pressed on stubbornly once he paused. "Just because nobody trusts my kind. Haven was supposed to be just for all... or do your gods hate tieflings too?" she finished with shaky breaths, holding on to the act. But it was only partly an act. This was the resentment she'd carried since childhood.

"Your kind are the spawn of unholy mingling of demons and mortals, tiefling" he said without mercy. "but I know your will is your own, and have a capacity to do good or harm... A shame you've chosen the latter. What is your name?"

"Eu...daxia" she whispered. He had spoken dispassionately. She believed him. He really took no pleasure in doing this to her. She hated him anyway for what he represented.

"Where were you born, Eudaxia?"

She shook her head against the pain. "I don't know... I was abandoned... I've lived in Haven all my life..." she answered in part honesty. Painful memories of her parents filling her mind, almost worse than the needles themselves in her vulnerable state. "this is none of your business! It doesn't have anything to do with anything!"

"Perhaps you're right. I am merely trying to get to know you, Eudaxia. The real you, that is. Even now, you're far too wilful. You will break. They always do." He shook his head. "You mentioned your Gods...." Pain exploded in her hands as Wilo began to twist his instruments free. "Tell me, what Gods do you worship?"

"I worship nothing!" she screamed, pain mixing with contempt. Even as she spoke, fear of the one from her dreams shot through her mind, but she kept the denial out of her voice. "The gods have done nothing for me. I still remember the light of the sun they took. I've been born the form of a monster... and those who follow their ideals have shown nothing but hypocrisy to me."

"Bitter and resentful of the Gods... Such was the way in Haven for a long time, but no more. Look where such an outlook has landed you, my dear Eudaxia!" The old man shook his head sorrowfully.

she managed to muster a sneer. "yet you torture me so piously. You're blinded by self-righteousness like all the rest." A morbid part of her told her she would never win, because the bastard would never have it in him to admit he was wrong about her.

"The truth lights my way, my dear. Gives me sight." The old man disposed of the needles in a clay bowl upon a table, looking back at Eudaxia, his eyes lingering upon her shaking thigh. "Let us see how your wound is faring." He kneeled down, gingerly unwrapping the bandages. "I am pleased to see its a clean wound."

she looked down at her leg. "I don't regret running." she said. "I'm no fool. Those guards would not have stopped to ask questions and find out what happened."

The old man moved back to the table, pulling a small knife and pincer from his case. "But you are a fool, or guilty, or both! For only they would flee if innocent." He kneeled down, griping the stitching thread with the pincer, and slowly undoing the stitch, opening the wound.

"Then you are deluded." she said scornfully. "The city watch are no paragons of justice. At least not to my kind."

Wilo paused in his work. "You're right. That I cannot deny... I still intend to get to the bottom of this."

"Tell me..." she egged on, sensing a chance. "How much coin did the watch turn over from me? I had 10 gold pieces to my name. and 250 silver from the very watch themselves. For crawling for rats in the sewers."

"I will ask the questions here." He punctuated the point with his knife, and she howled as it entered the wound. "Are you gifted with the use of arcana, Eudaxia?"

She reeled. She could resist the pain, but it made thinking so hard. "Well?" he said, twisting the knife deeper. "Can you wield magic?"

"I am no arcanist... I have no power... or education. I have only the tiny power all Tieflings have. To change the colour of their eyes or make their voice boom." she said, letting helplessness into her voice.

The old man scratched his beard... "So the mere unholy gifts you were born with, hmm? Perhaps." The old man retrieved more needles, and Eudaxia felt them all in her leg. One explosion of pain after another, making her body shake and shudder.

It was too much. She thrashed and screamed without restraint. No. Please no. God. Stop. I can't take it any more.

Wilo struck, sensing weakness. "Did you attempt to rob the merchant?" he shouted.

Of course she had. She was guilty. But she had been innocent, once. It was this city that taken that from her and made her into what she was. And now it pinned her down, filling her with pain, punishing her for just trying to survive. She hated it. She hated that tyranny. The little girl inside her that had been abandoned cried out for justice. Even if she really was a liar and a thief, she couldn't let them see her as one, just to prove those bastards wrong about tieflings, even if it was a sham.

"I wanted to buy a stick for my friend... in the sewers... he was kind to me..." she moaned.

Wilo sighed. "I believe there is truth in what you say... Yet you are holding something back. I know it." He pulled the pins free and closed up the wound before bandaging it. Eudaxia lay limply. She heard a banging on the door seconds later. "I'm done here!" It opened, and the two guards step inside, moving over to the rack and unfastening the straps.

Wilo's sharp eyes pierced into Eudaxia's hazy ones. "The magistrate will get a full report." I doubt you attempted any thievery, nor that you wield any arcana beyond that of your tiefling heritage. The magistrate will take it as he may. May justice prevail, and may you find the Gods yet, Eudaxia."

She made no response as she was carried away. She'd done it. She hadn't broken. She'd proved them wrong about her. It was a victory. It mattered.

That's what she told herself.

[D&D 5e] Shadow World ~ A West Marches Campaign

Eudaxia

"It's a real shame I dropped that stick you know. It's served me well for years, you wouldn't believe how long it-"

Eudaxia tried to contain her annoyance as the Shaemus plodded along beside her, hand on her shoulder to guide his way. Her eyes darted around her as they walked towards the main gate, looking for a stray length of wood or stick that might be lying around so the old priest would shut up, a heavy sack full of rats an uncomfortable (and not to mention smelly) weight on her shoulder. She was half tempted to ditch the blind man for his constant lamenting, but even though she had the rats now, she told herself it was a waste to discard a new ally.

She'd managed to gather fifty of the rodents in the end, though it had been grim work. Many of the rats had been in cloven into pieces or fried by their magic. She'd also given most of them a good squishing before picking them up, to make sure they were well and truly dead. Eventually they'd run out of rats around the ladder base, and she hadn't had the courage to move further down the tunnel.

It wasn't long before Hero's square came into view, and the pair entered the late-night crowd. Thankfully their dishevelled state was good for one thing and people parted to avoid the pair. Eudaxia continued indifferently, scanning the stalls as they walked past out of habit, she was getting tired now, and looking forward to returning to her hideout, but you always had to keep an eye out for opportunity...

"Bits and baubles! Get your bits and baubles here!"

The cry caught her attention, as did the carved walking stick the stall had for sale. The merchant sneered at her as they approached, likely worried they'd keep other customers away. "You there, Tiefling! If you aren't buying, move along." Then he spotted the priest, instantly switching from defensive to welcoming. "Why, Shaemus, I didn't see you there!"

"Ah yes Craton, my old friend. You have nothing to fear from my friend here." Shaemus replied. Patting Eudaxia on the shoulder.

"ah of course! My apologies!" He said, without a hint of sincerity. The two chatted for a second, but Eudaxia urged them on to the gate, she had no desire to sit and listen to the slimy merchant fawn. They could return for the stick later.

Soon the crowd faded and the city gates loomed before them, shut closed for the night, save for a small side gate, where a small line of miserable looking individuals clutching sacks lined up before a desk. Eudaxia approached, noting with a small amount of satisfaction from their envious glances that their sack was the largest. She lined up, shooting glares at anyone who looked their way too long. A small tiefling and a blind priest must have looked like easy targets, and the last thing she wanted was to have to fight off scavengers who wanted their rats.

It wasn't long before it was their turn. An eccentric looking adventurer with a red Mohawk cursed under his breath as he left the desk. "fucking tieflings"

Eudaxia stepped up, eyes forward. "FIFTY" she said, almost proudly as she dumped the sack on the desk, not envying the poor slaves who stepped forward to count the haul.

The guard who sat across from her with a quill in his hand stared with dead eyes. "Where came you by these rats, tiefling?" he said imperiously after a pause.

"The sewers, can't you smell?" she snapped, her irritation at the suspicion bleeding through in her tired state.

"Impossible to tell the stink from sewer and tiefling." spat the guard, a spark of hatred creeping into his lifeless eyes. "Let me see your scroll of recommendation." he said, rising. From a guard post, a second guard emerged, hearing his colleagues firm tone.

oh hell no she thought, seeing where this was going. Deep down she felt that silent fury, that seething anger she'd carried all her life at having to fight harder for every scrap, grovel more piteously for every handout, just because of her horns and tail. She'd been swarmed and bitten and nibbled on, how dare they try and take this from her. She wanted to flare her magic and punish them, but that not how she fought. Not yet.

Instead she rolled her eyes tiredly. "I ain't no professional. if you didn't want lowlifes hunting the rats you shouldn't have put the notice up. C'mon lads, can't I just get my silver and get out of your way? " she gestures at the line of people with sacks. "folk aren't going to bring you rats no more if they hear you're screwing them over their money."

The guard looked back to the line hesitantly, then sighed, his eyes returning to boredom as he settled back into his chair. "I suppose you have a point" he grunted, slowly counting out shiny coins into a pouch he slid across the table. "Take your silvers and begone, wretch, 'fore I see you in stocks."

Eudaxia snatched up the coins, enjoying its weight, and flashed him a winning smile. That was how you did it. Convince them you're not worth the hassle of bullying. It was the only victory she had ever been allowed. She bounced away from the desk, re-joining Shaemus. "I think that went pretty well." she said, her mood reversed. "Your friend back in the square had a stick on sale you could buy if you want."

"Ah splendid! Though knowing him he'd charge an arm and a leg, and a blind man sorely needs those appendages, my dear!" Shaemus laughed, before turning to the guard. "My good sir, a moment of your time!"
The guard sighed, his patience near its end. "What is it priest?"
Shaemus leaned in close, speaking in a hushed tone. "Are you aware, officer, that these rats carry the Grey Plague. It has been a harrowing ordeal for me and my friend here. We were most alarmed when we found out, and I'd wager the line here behind me will be equally alarmed...."
The guard pinched the bridge of his nose, and Eudaxia's mood improved further as he paled visibly. "Name your price, priest."
"Why only another 250 silver, my good sir." Shaemus smiled. Could he wink, perhaps he would have toward Eudaxia.
The guard tossed a fat pouch at the priest. It bounced off his arm and onto the table, before he seized it, and slipped it into his robes.

"Not bad at all." she said, surprised and impressed. She wished she'd thought of that. But then again she'd though she as the only one ignorant of the plague. "I thought members of the faith didn't stoop to such strategies."

Shaemus smirked. "I feel like a scratching post for rats. Surely the city coffers can handle a little extra silvers, besides this alm box isn't going to fill itself."

"to the stall then?"

"No need, child. I head for Godsreach, back to hearth and home." The priest seems to think for a moment. "My invitation is still open, Eudy. Should you need a place to stay, find a hot meal and some rest, as well as answers, the Temple of Larethian is open to you."

She hesitated. "I'll consider it, thanks." This was the second time the offer was made. If she could really find answers... But not tonight. She was tired, and though she had no doubt Shaemus meant well in his own way, she wanted to be at her full strength before delivering herself into the hands of the clergy.

"Very good." Shaemus was quiet with thought for a moment before speaking. "I shall think we saved some poor soul from the grey plague thus night."

she shrugged indifferently. "Probably. it was a lot of rats. Though another two poor souls nearly ended up catching it themselves. and those rats seemed.....strange. this whole plague seems strange. Magic even." she said hesitantly.

"Indeed it does. These are dark times, child." He took a step and stopped short. "Ah Eudy.... which way is east?"

she grabbed his arm and pointed with it. "That way. you sure you don't want that stick?" She had an inkling of an idea, if she could get him to distract that sleazy merchant...

Shaemus laughed. "Like the back of my hand, child. Like the back of my hand! At least now that I have my bearings. Fare thee well, and Gods be with you! Until our next meeting." Shaemus bowed low, making his way eastward.

She shook her head as the strange man left, no stick to guide his way, and walked back to the square. She had some spending money now, she could retire, but it still felt like there was more to be done. In the pitch darkness of the night market, it was easy for things to go missing. Since she was here, she might as well take advantage.

This line of thinking would ultimately prove to be a mistake.

She moved around the edges of the crowd, scanning for a good mark. She caught a flash of a priestly looking woman. She wore chainmail,
but more importantly had a golden holy symbol around her neck. Too risky, she thought. necklaces were difficult. She looked around and spotted other suitable looking targets in the crowd, but her mind kept coming back to the sleazy bauble merchant. If anyone deserved to be robbed tonight, it was him.

She wandered back over to his stall, noting how diligently he eyed his wares. With a whispered word and a gesture, a ghostly hand appeared floating underneath his stall, barely visible in the darkness. It was a neat trick, handy if you worked alone like she did. The merchant eyed her suspiciously as she approached, sand stood to the side of his stall. "I'd like to buy the stick please" she said pointing. "Shaemus lost his and I think it would make a nice present." She slowly manoeuvred the hand with her mind as she spoke, creeping it up the other side of the stall. There was a nice golden brooch on that end of the stand.
"It's a gold coin for the finely carved stick..." he said suspiciously.
"Oh come on, a gold piece for a stick? I'll give you fifty silver" she said, maintaining eye contact with the man as she willed the hand to move over to collect the brooch.

Except it didn't. It ploughed into stand, scattering a few bits of jewellery. The peddler gaped in surprise, swatting the at hand which vanished into the mist.

well crap. This was what happened when you didn't watch where you put your hands. cmon, I can still smooth this over. She opened her mouth.

"I should have known! Guards! Thief! Thief!"

She made the call, and bolted. There was an alleyway nearby. Nobody knew these streets like she did, she would lose them th-

Pain. Pain in her leg. She staggered, looking down in shock. There was an axe in her thigh. She barely had time to process this before she felt something else overcome her. She suddenly felt sluggish, like she was moving through water. The feeling washed over her, and in a way it felt strangely familiar. It feels like... like my magic. From the crowd ahead, she could see a man charging towards her determinedly, the feeling was coming from him. He collided with her, catching her in a grip. She felt too lethargic to slip away, so she pushed and shoved instead, with all her might, but it was fruitless. She couldn't get any purchase with her wounded leg.

No... Not like this.

"Tiefling bitch!" a guard cursed as they caught up with the pair.
"Why do they let these vermin walk the streets?" another questioned, slapping irons around her wrists. It was Over.

She struggled defiantly in the mans grip, still stunned at how quickly things had gone wrong. “Wait, she’s with me! Part of a case!” the strange vigilante said, not relinquishing his hold.

From the crowd, a dwarf approached, walking up to Eudaxia. "I'll be taking this" he said, and she cried out in pain as he yanked the handaxe from her thigh, as if he were simply collecting his hat from a tavern cloakroom. "Good day to you all" he said, leaving without giving her a glance, even as she glared after him, eyes full of cold fury at his indifference.

"Take it up with the watch commander. This ones coming with us to the Keep." they said, wresting her from her captor's grip.

W-wait! Let me just ask her one question! Time is of the essence, right now! Do you know anything about a haggish herbalist selling potions to young women?” They turned her around to face this strange man who had magic like hers, and looked at her, waiting for a response. She raised her head and looked into his eyes.

And spat in his face.

Then everything went black.

[D&D 5e] Shadow World ~ A West Marches Campaign

Eudaxia vs The Rat Swarm

It was a strange figure that had bumped into Eudaxia's horns. A man in dark robes, taller than she, and with strips of white cloth wound tightly around his eyes. Grimacing, he apologized to nobody in particular before carrying on his way, a tapping cane guiding his path.
A possible mark, she thought to herself, making an assessment of him. He was walking in the same direction she was, and she felt curious despite herself.

He wore an amulet depicting the great wheel around his neck which looked like it could be of value, though it would be too difficult to lift that. It suggested he was a priest, though he looked like no priest she'd ever seen. Apart from that he didn't look rich, and that ought to have been the end of her interest in him. But gut instinct held her back, and she slowed down her pace and fell in step with him in spite of herself. "its no bother..." she said, eying him curiously. "Are you not afraid?" she asked "wondering around these parts of town like that." she made a pointless gesture to his blindfold. "Someone could rob you bl-" she stopped the pun just in time.

"Ah, I know this city like the back of my hand... at least how I might picture the back of my hand," the stranger smiled. "On Founder's Day however... the crowds tend to have me turned around. Perchance may you be heading toward the cemetery?

"might be... thereabouts anyway" she answered evasively.

"Ah, luck favours me. Another lost to the Grey Plague, and I need speak blessings over the poor soul. Might I lean on you for direction, my new found friend?"

"Depends... wossinit for me?" she replied bluntly, rolling her eyes, having little interest in wasting time guiding a priest on an errand. From the way the streets were gradually clearing she could tell it was evening, and whilst that didn't really make much of a difference for the lighting, she would rather get back to her hideout than spend all night hunting for rats.

"Comfort in knowing a soul will be sped to the Divines upon Their return... a bite from these cursed rats that plague the city, its all one can hope for."

Eudaxia froze in her tracks as he walked on. He had already rewarded her, even if he didn't know it. So the rats are carrying the Grey Plague. The noticeboard failed to mention that, she thought angrily. five silver pieces a rat had been too good to be true after all. She had heard of the Grey plague of course, but honestly she just hadn't paid too much attention to it. Plagues were just something that happened in this rotten, sunless world. You didn't panic, you just got on with your miserable life and either you would get sick and die or you wouldn't and that was that.

Off to the side she noticed an officer of the watch humiliating a kid, far younger that she was. The guard held out his mace, pointing it down at a pile of manure.

"Pick it up boy, and dump it in the bin there. That is 'lest you want trouble." The urchin scratched his neck nervously, looking about as if for a way out of the confrontation.

She'd been like that once. A helpless, snivelling child. Unable to fight for a crust of bread. But not anymore. She'd grown cunning. She'd learned to be persuasive, and defend herself from those you tried to pull her down into the mud. Now, she had power, even if she didn't understand it. She could help that kid if she wanted. Distract the guard, save him from a little of the suffering she'd had to endure. A tiny part of her wanted to.

She snuffed it out and kept moving, slipping through the shadows to avoid the attention of the amused office. That wasn't how life worked on the streets. You had to look after yourself. She wasn't going to risk getting caught and being interrogated for being a Tiefling just to help some runt. It was only manure. He would get over it.

With a hurried pace, she caught back up to the blind man with his stick. "Alright, I'll guide you." she said begrudgingly. Without his obliviously given tip she would probably have ended up catching the gray plague in her ignorance, and she didn't like owing people. Though she would be lying if she said she didn't have an ulterior motive: finding out more about the rats. She wasn't about to give up on some quick money so easily. A new plan was already forming in her brain. But for it she would need meat. Something that would lure the critters.

And by the sounds of it, they were on their way to see a corpse.

"You wouldn't mind telling me more about this disease would you? I was hoping to poach a few rats for the watch, but if they're all infected..." she trailed off, thinking.

The priest placed a hand on Eudaxia's shoulder, following along behind her with a steady tap of his walking stick. "Of course, child. It is a horrific disease, one that renders vibrant youth withered and frail upon their deaths bed, as if they'd aged a hundred years in mere weeks. I am Shaemus, by the way. I'd wager one in ten carry the disease, but I cannot be certain."

"Sounds awful." she said flatly. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance. You can call me Eudy" she said, trying to sound friendly, but staring at him intently, unafraid because of the blindfold. But paranoia wouldn't let her buy that he was completely blind. It was naïve beyond belief to trust a tiefling to lead you blindfolded around the dark city, and so she kept looking for signs that he could sense his surroundings somehow. But no amount of squinting or trying to produce subtle reactions told her anything, so she gave up.

When they reached the cemetary. The wrought iron gate was open, and swinging slightly in the breeze, a mist covering the ground as owls hooted from their perches on long dead trees. "We're looking for a Wallum Undertree. His grave should still be open. Will you be so kind as to be my eyes, child?"

It didn't take long in the mist filled grounds to find the grave, empty save for its simple coffin. Shaemus easeed himself into the earth. "IF you're intent on dealing with these rats, perhaps I could be of assistance. I may be blind, but I assure you, I am capable." With a grunt he opened the coffin, allaying her fears that it might be sealed and revealing the body of what appeared to be an ancient, withered human. "Not nineteen years old," Shaemus said sorrowfully.

she blinked as she looked down at the corpse. She herself was only nineteen. "And how could you help exactly?" she asked. He didn't look capable. He was either a blind, naïve fool, or mysterious and powerful. She hadn't been able to decide which yet. She peered in at the body, fingering her small knife in her pocket and trying to figure out if there was a way she could take a chunk of flesh without the blind man noticing. If she could lure the rats with food, then fry them with magic from above, she wouldn't need to risk getting bitten. But by the looks of it there wasn't much meat on the corpse at all.

The priest opened the palm of his hands, and what began as a flicker turned bright and hot, rising up in the air above their heads, changing colours and illuminating an everchanging glow down upon their heads. After a minute, the flame faded and disappeared. "I may be blind, but I am not useless," he said. he almost seemed to be saying it to himself.

Mysterious and powerful it is she decided, excited. Magic. This was the first time she'd seen anyone but herself use it and been sure that she was seeing the real thing. The rats were secondary now. She had to talk to this man. Tease answers out of him. "Hmm... alright then." she said, impressed. "we'll take the rats on together." With two magic wielders, maybe they wouldn't need to bait them. She avoided mentioning the reward. He seemed like one of those deluded 'do the deed for its own sake" kind of guys.

The priest deftly placed incense at the four corners of the coffin, lighting them with a strike of his tinder box. he kneeled over the coffin, cramped within the tight space, speaking some sort of incantation she do not recognize. After a few moments he stood up. "In the land of the dead, Nerull will come for you, but he will find you are blessed, and He will not touch you. Now child, shall we begin our search for these parasites?"

Eudaxia shuddered at the mention of Nerull. Up until this point in her life she hadn't concerned herself with the gods. Why would she? They had abandoned the world. Her parents had been heretics. They'd thrown her and their lives away in the name of a decrepit mythology. It had been a source of pain. Then the Fiend had given her the pact and everything had changed. She needed answers. It occurred to her that she'd never had such a long interaction with a member of the clergy before. In fact this was the longest conversation she'd had at all in ages.
"Alright. Though we could do with some kind of bait. There's a sewer not too far from here that probably sees some rat traffic. I'll lead the way."

It wasn't far to the grate. Shaemus followed with his hand upon her shoulder, steadily behind with the tapping of his stick. "I hope you don't mind getting a little dirty" she said. Wrenching the rusting grate open and descending the ladder. It was cold down bellow. The darkness was scarcely different from the one above, though the smell was considerably worse. She was glad she'd gone to the sewer before she went to get new clothes.

"you should probably know I have a little magic of my own, so that its not a surprise later." She said, picking a direction and advancing slowly.

"Ah a fellow descendant of the Godsbane. May Redemption find us, child."

"Ahem. yes" she said awkwardly. "Though I don't know much about it if I'm honest. Do you know much about the different kinds of magic? I know the demons had their own brand they gave during the Warp". It wasn't the most subtle way of broaching the subject but she was nervous.

"Ah yes, cursed infernals! They lure mortals with promises of power, twist them to do evil things, then rob of them of their ever lasting souls! A horrible fate awaits those who fall for such machinations!" With that, the priest fell quiet.

She felt a chill despite herself. Calm down, she thought. You haven't lost your soul. He's just spent too much time listening to them ridiculous priests' sermons. "H-how?" she asked, against her better judgement.

"Perhaps I should speak no more of this, child. There are men wiser then myself in this subject."

She nodded. It was probably best. "Who might they be then? I'd be interested in finding out more about magic. Even magical urchins don't get much opportunity for education."

"The faith would be happy to receive you child, and give you all the answers that you seek, you merely need to walk the path of Redemption. Come to Godsreach, the Temple of Larethian. I will inform my masters to expect you."

She gave a snort in the darkness. There wasn't much chance of her becoming a nun. "hmm... thanks". she carried on in silence. Her unlikely ally's hand still on her shoulder as she led the way. She hated being a tiefling most of the time. But sometimes she had to remind herself that many others couldn't see in the dark like she could and that for most of the day most humans weren't much better off than Shaemus was.

Eudaxia knew the sewers fairly well. They were useful for getting around. Indeed some parts of them could be considered streets as much as the roads overhead for how much traffic they received by those wishing to avoid notice or take a shortcut. However these were not the parts they were in now. These were the parts that led nowhere or were avoided, because the twists and turns were not worth it, or a shortcut wasn't worth meeting something terrible in the darkness. As they progressed, she began to hear the sounds of faint squeaks ahead, followed by scratches. "Do you hear that!" said Shaemus in a hushed tone.

she nodded, then remembered herself and answered vocally, approaching quietly, keeping her eyes peeled for movement.

turning the corner, there was a narrow tunnel that stretched on ahead. The sound came echoing down along with the trickle from the stream of waste that ran along the middle, flanked on each side by a narrow walking path. "I can see something" she said, noticing some kind of movement at the edge of her darkvision. She was afraid now, the form looked big and the noise was growing.

"Point me toward danger, I'm ready!" Shaemus replied briskly. She grabbed him by the shoulders uncertainly, rotating him to face the cacophony that was descending the tunnel, suddenly assailed by doubt. The form was much closer. It was moving fast. she could make them out now.

Rats. Lots of rats.

They were countless. Endless. They rushed and swelled like a giant living ocean wave of ravenous hunger. She could only watch in horror as an instant later the giant mass crashed into them. The rats crawled everywhere. They were in her hair, scrabbling in her clothes. Damp and rancid, she felt their biting, felt them scratch and dig into her skin in their craving for flesh.

In that moment, she was suddenly nothing more than a child again, and certain she would be eaten alive by rats. She screamed, and that primal fear became power in her blood. Fire sprang from her fingertips, spraying and killing rats and lighting the tunnel though there were more to take their place. They cascaded off of her like water, fleeing the flames and creating a small space around her. She ran, staggering down the tunnel, trying to escape the terrible hunger. Now free of the swarm she turned, seeing Shaemus similarly overwhelmed. He had dropped his stick and was walking blindly, tossing away the rats that attempted to scale him. She called out to him, trying to give him a voice to guide him over the screeching of the rodents, as she hurled a blast of eldritch energy into their midst, but it was weak and feeble, unable to quench their numbers. That's all I have in me, she thought with despair. After that one spell. For all her bravado, she was still a powerless urchin.

Then Shaemus began to chant as he stumbled towards her, a glow growing within him and a sword made of light appearing in the air. It cut through the angry swarm in large swathes, cleaving rats and scattering their bits around the tunnel as they attempted pursuit. She grabbed his hand as he approached, practically dragging him back towards the exit they'd come in. "I've lost my stick" he lamented, now clutching a dagger.

"There are other sticks." She replied, still running for her life from the terrible sounds that followed them down the tunnel. She practically dived on the ladder to the surface when they reached it, clambering out of the oppressive underground to fresh air. Turning to help Shaemus, she saw him misstep and slip on the ladder. She dived for his hand but it was too late. He fell back and disappeared into the churning, awaiting horde.

No..., she thought in despair. She'd led him to his death. He didn't deserve this. She knew it didn't matter. That the world didn't care. But this time she had to try. She summoned the energy inside of herself once more, shooting another blast of energy into their midst, but this one was even more pathetic than the last and barely fizzled as it made contact with the rats. So useless... Always at the mercy of others.

Fire, She thought numbly, they fled the fire. She dug amongst her things looking for a torch, losing precious seconds fumbling with a tinderbox to get the pitch lit. She dropped it limply down the hole, and heard the squeal as the pack moved to avoid the heat. As they cleared she caught sight of a figure trying to get to its feet, slashing with a dagger and seeking the ladder. They were starting to diminish now, retreating to find easier prey.

Eudaxia dug deep inside herself. Searching for the power she needed. The power she craved with the furious intensity of a thousand starving rats. The power she knew that she had. A beam of crackling energy sprang from her palm with a cry, smashing into the monstrosities and sending them flying against the tunnel walls. Those that did not fall dead scattered into the depths, leaving the tunnel clear. In the long silence that followed, it took everything Eudaxia had to descend back down the ladder. She helped the priest to find it.

"My thanks child.... I fear I won't so much as look at a latrine again!"

Now that the adrenaline was fading she found herself growing angry. Furious at having put herself in such danger, and for overestimating both herself and her companion. She never relied on others, that was her rule. What had gotten into her. Now a new fear settled on her, the fear of the Gray Plague. Now that she could focus, she realised she could feel a burning in her wounds, slowly seeping into her. Then something seemed to resist, the burning retreated and the injuries subsided to a dull throb.

What was that? Part of my powers? Did that mean the Gray Plague was magical too? Now that she thought about it, she'd never heard of rats being so aggressive, so relentless. It was almost as if they had been possessed by some kind of force.

In any case one thing is clear, she thought, as Shaemus healed her with a spell. I need to get stronger.

[D&D 5e] Shadow World ~ A West Marches Campaign

Eudaxia

Eudaxia squinted at the cramped noticeboard. It had been years since she'd learned how to read, but she still had to take her time to decipher obtuse handwriting. She struggled to keep it in view as she was jostled by the large crowd that filled the square. The city was full for Founder's Day. Loud and smelly people seemed to be everywhere you went. ...plague of rats...missing women...will trade leaky pot for a cart? who writes these...bandits...
Bandits. Now that would make a change, but no... too risky, strange eldtrich powers or no. But five silver pieces a rat was a steal. It was almost too good in fact. How big did a rat have to be for it to be worth five silver when dead?

Thanks to her powers it had been a long time since she'd had to beg for her money, but she still wasn't above a dip into the sewers to kill a few rats. Taking the job meant interacting with the Watch however, which she was loathe to do anyway, but lately they'd been interrogating her kind and that made her nervous. She'd managed to steer clear of them so far, and nobody had bothered her, but she hadn't found out why yet either. "curse these horns.." she muttered absentmindedly. She'd tried to saw them off once, a long time ago. It hadn't gone well.

More importantly should she go alone, or should she get a crew? She was suspicious, but had her magic to back her up. Five silver pieces didn't seem such a good deal when you started splitting it. The festival would be soon, and she still needed a dress and mask for the masquerade. It was simply too good an opportunity to miss to scam and look for marks. It only came once a year. If she went and killed a few rats, she might have enough money to buy a costume rather than steal one, and still have decent spending money left over for the festival. She could head over to a good sewer entrance she knew, near the cemetery. Her mind made up, she was just checking her purse to make sure she hadn't lost it to the noticeboard crowd, when she caught an elbow in the head from the mass.
"ow." She grunted in annoyance. Well, they'd gotten her right in the tip of the horn, serves em right.

[D&D 5e] Shadow World ~ A West Marches Campaign

Eudaxia, Tiefling Warlock.

[D&D 5e] Shadow World ~ A West Marches Campaign

Here's Eudaxia. Hope everything is in order.

Whistlehowl Star {always open!}

That sounds great, if anyone has any ideas.

Mistborn Era 2

A 2 and a 7. Again. Garret folded with a sigh, looking on resignedly as Jack pulled the clips over to his side of the table. The portly gentleman chuckled smugly as he loomed over his tiny hoard of bronze. "it's always a pleasure to have you back in town Mr Penrod. Thank Harmony the lawmans not around or he'd have me for daylight robbery."

Garret grimaced as he took a sip of his drink, toying with his diminishing pile of coins. "Can you burn these?" he asked idly, flipping a clip as Jack collected in the cards.

"Doubt it" he said, shuffling the deck with a frown. "Probably the wrong mix. You'd have to be an idiot to try."

Garret grinned. "I'll make you a bet."

The elder man snorted derisively. "Not likely. I've burned bad metal before, and I'm in no hurry to do so again. Worst headache of my life."

Garret cut and dealt, still smiling. Then turned as the doors to the saloon swung open, burning steel instinctively. It was the middle of the day, and the place was practically deserted, filled only with empty tables and swarms of dust motes visible by rays of the bright sun. In typical Roughs fashion, it had a worn, dirty feel.
To Garret's eyes a multitude of faint blue lines also filled the room, pointing from his chest to every nail, coin and other source of metal in the room. The gambling pair were the only clients in the bar, though a tell-tale clinking from behind the counter revealed the presence of the owner in the back room.
A think blue line pointed to Garret's own waist, at his Immerling 44. Another sank into the table towards Jack. The newcomer was a young, balding man, shirt slick with sweat from the noon heat. A prospector by the looks of him. He wore no metal, and wound his way towards the bar, stopping on the way to hand Garret a small handful of clips as well as a folded letter, who added it to a small stack on the table.

"Ho hoo, my next spoils have arrived." Jack said jokingly, before turning his eye to the letters. "So now that you've made your delivery..."

"Yup, it's back to Elendel. The job went smoothly thanks to you. But I don't want to hang around. I think I'm just waiting on the Coppersons now, then I'll be on my way."
He was in the Northen Roughs. Isaeuc's Bend specifically. the railway was a ways away and he was eager to be off. He would already be gone, but he'd been here several times, and knew it was rare for the town to get a courier from Elendel. He made a point of offering the local families the chance to get letters back to the basin whenever he made a trip. It was a good opportunity for Garret to make some money on the side.

"They won't need you for that soon enough, you know" Jack said, nodding at the pile of letters. "They'll have the wassit. The electric."

Garret scowled. He disliked this electricity business. Many people depended on messaging for their work, but even a coinshot couldn't beat light. Garret himself was more... specialised of course but he still resented the encroachment. "Pfft they've barely got anything set up in the basin, we'll be shaking hands with Ironeyes before they reach the Roughs."

"doesn't take much to lay down a wire and tap out some signals. I heard they're going to put one down by the railroad. If they're taking their time it's only because of that rusted Battery Gang."

"Oh?"

Jack waved a hand dismissively, turning his attention back to their game. "You'll see it when you get back, it'll be in the broadsheets."

Garret nodded absentmindedly, surreptitiously eying his cards. Pocket aces. He squinted, trying not to give anything away as temptation gnawed at him. Finally a good hand, but he knew what would happen if he bet. He hadn't won a hand all morning. He could stop sapping his luck...just for a bit. He could...

But No... he had to stick to his guns. That was the whole point of this after all. The effect of luck was a difficult thing to quantify and measure, and one didn't get very far as a Spinner ferring without a little bit of superstition, and a lot of trial and error.
Truth was, making yourself unlucky was a tricky business. You might as well be a bloodmaker making yourself sick to store health for all the bumps and bruises, stubbed toes and jarred elbows you accumulated as a magnet for misfortune. And if you really doomed yourself, there was the very real chance of being crushed by a falling piano as you passed under a street window. Of course you could seal yourself in an empty room and make yourself as ill-fated as you wanted, and maybe nothing would happen. but maybe you emerged to find out that you'd lost your job and your dog had died.
So Garret did his best to channel his misfortune in a safe, if perhaps not healthy way.

"I raise." he said, voice full of a vain, desperate hope. Right now he was filling his earring, as well as generously filling one his armbands.

Jack met his eyes. "check".

"....."

"Alright then, lets show". The cards seemed to come down slowly. Jack had nothing, a 3,9 unsuited. Garret had the satisfaction of seeing the momentary scowl in his eyes before It was wiped away by amazement as the flop was revealed.
"Full House! What are the chances!? I thought you were bluffing!" he roared with laughter as he added a few crumpled paper notes to blanket his treasure. "Rusts Penrod it's like you've been cursed by Ruin itself."

Garret smiled a secret smile. Perhaps it was irrational of him to gamble unlucky, but how could he expect his luck to save his neck when he needed it without giving back a little? Losing at cards wasn't so bad. He needed his luck for his work, And besides, it helped him get along with the world. Rough ores Like Jack were much more inclined to be friendly if good company also meant earning some cash on the side. And hanging around the Luckshot came with something money couldn't buy. Feeling extra lucky made people feel special. Made them feel like things were meant to go their way. Garret understood that better than anyone. They also enjoyed watching the misfortune of others, as ugly a truth as that may be.
In any case it made him feel better, and kept his secret fear at bay. The fear of his luck running out.

As Jack was recovering from his mirth, a small girl with sunbleached hair wandered up to the table, clutching a brightly coloured envolope. "Scuse me, would you take this to my grandma in Elendel?" she asked shyly.

Garret looked down in suprise "you Copperson's daughter?" he said, adding the letter to the sheaf and receiving a tiny nod in response. "I'll get it to the city for you, sure."

"That's not good enough!" she said fiercely. "You have to make sure she gets it."

"Alright then, I promise" Garret smirked, seeing the address. He was bound for the Sixth Octant anyway. "I'm the legendary Bulletbrusher you know. I've never missed a delivery, so you can count on me."

Jack chuckled. "Looks like you've got your next big assignment". The barstools scraped on the dry wooden floor as the two men rose and clasped hands. "Mr. Penrod."

"Mr. Alamby."

"Next time you're in town stay a couple of days. I'm sure I could bleed you of your next paycheck, but I promise I'll at least teach you to not be so terrible at the rusted game."

"Was good to see you Jack. Thanks again for your help with-"

"Don't mention it."

Garret stretched and shaded his eyes with his hat as strode out into the wide dusty street. Isaeuc's Bend was an isolated place, even for the Roughs. The hard part was reaching the railroad, but from there it was a simple matter of steelpushing himself to the nearest station, then he would be back in no time.
Back to Elendel.

Whistlehowl Star {always open!}

@Jade113 that image is hilarious. I needed a new profile pic anyway xD

Whistlehowl Star {always open!}

Never mind Edric's fear of cages. Kisses' fate is far worse. We all know those things are rigged.