Role

Chapter 9

The gnome made his way up the mountain, peering up the path in caution.
Reaching the Hut of the Sublime he noted it empty... but for a corpse.

Examining the features of the corpse he at once recognized it.

He saw lying beside it a ring of divine magic and a long pommeled sword.
Instinct led him to further quell his curiousity and he walked dowards towards the village.

As he reached the giant, he noticed a paiting lying at the feet of the giant.

The Village was empty. Not a soul in sight. Unwrapping the painting he took a quick glance at it.

A Painting placed at the feet of the village Giant.

In a grim setting with lighting dull as the dusk and detailing accurate as
an elven archer, you notice a young minstrel standing. The side view of her
face has the backdrop of a Sublime hut without much carpeting or furniture.
Two windows in the background, open, display valleys and moutains afar
painted in slight blur and a Godess with a harp in her hand stands by her

side. The side face of the young minstrel seems to adorn a look of comfort
and satisfaction. Her form is blurry and her flesh is seems to be rather
insubstantial. The ugliness of her features, her wrinkled skin and her
receding hairline, all are skillfully potrayed with detailed effect. Not
long before the wonder of her joy, you notice at her feet a stream of blood
flowing from a pool at a corpse placed between her and her Godess. The
features of the corpse are smeared a bit, but the corpse seems to be curled
inward, as it stabbed deep in the torso, by its own doing.

On the floor you notice a black woolen robe, a longsword with etchings and
a ring humming with runes of the divine. The face of the Godess is painted
in two seperate halves. One staring down at the items on the floor and the
other looking upon the minstrel with a mixture of pleasure and displeasure.

As you draw your sight close you notice the same receding hairline, the
wrinkled skin and weakened frame on the corpse you notice it to be of the devotee...


*the picture is painted with greens, much of red which seems of blood, and
some mountain chalk on a canvas made of elven skin*

In small bold letters below you notice :
Day of Freedom, Month of the Winter Wolf.
Ruhktanshi Il'Cha-Ashama'Ghara.

Quietly the gnome began to wrap it as its original state and slipped away quietly, having learnt much.