Katula the Viewer of the Spheres

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Role

Chapter 1

No invoker corpse yet. They seem to be rare these days.

I don't know why I need an invoker corpse of course. It's probably the ifrit
inside me that wants to study them, how mortals become part Djinn.

The nightgaunts seem to get weaker and weaker and last for less time every
time I send them. Eventually I realized I didn't have to send them to kidnap
people constantly, and stopped until it was more opportune.

I am still looked down upon in Hamsah Mu'Tazz. The guardian ifrit won't let
me in the guild, and I have yet to figure out who is on that list or why.
Since conjuration is outlawed, I tend to spend my days in the watery caves to
the south.

Ghriz proposed to me one day. It was entirely out of the blue and he gave me
a rare ring of stamina. I wasn't entirely sure if he was serious and he no
doubt plans to be like the cavorting Sultan with his harem, there is already
a drow transmuter on his heels. Nevertheless I gave him a powerful protective
charm ring I picked up from Sentara's corpse in return. I told him that it
was up to him to find a bard to spread the news. It secretly made me happy,
but I told him if I had to consummate the marriage I would send a nightgaunt
to kidnap an elven maiden in my stead. I don't think he believes the story
that I'm pregnant constantly with quasits. He's smarter than most of his
clan.

I enjoy slaughter anyway, like anyone else enjoys peace and quiet. But my
research on this fusion is halted until I find an invoker's corpse. I have
only seen and attacked three in my lifetime, one was an Outlander gnome.

I've heard of a laboratory where there was an arrogant dark-elven woman who
tried to use an advanced form of projection to possess another body, and her
wraith still inhabits the lab as a result. I'll have to look it over and see
if I can understand my own fusion with this being in my mind.

Damn guildmaster. They will never teach me the arts of delving deeper into
the shaowy planes. I can already pretend to have an honorable soul and have
nearly mastered the relevant spells. This is irritating.

(the rest of the journal entry wanders into another language, that of a
celestial elemental despite describing more mundane events.)

Role

Chapter 2

Mortifer said he wasn't willing to stoop to the level of working with a
human.

I was offended, but sadly, calling me human isn't entirely accurate, I think.

I spent a week in the Seaport wandering among it's people, and killing who
wouldn't be missed. Conjuration is illegal in Hamsah but it's the only art
that allows me to list the aid to find what I'm looking for and understand
what it is I'm slowly becoming.

I've heard stories of demielemental invokers. One has to wonder if that comes
about by birth or corruption, because it's the only way to find out if I was
born this way, corrupted, or both.

I've my own vices after all. Prostitution and theft weren't above me in the
distant past.

In any case I've learned enough to start pitting my skills against others and
trying to find what it is I am becoming.

Role

Chapter 3

Katula has fragments of an Ifrit's memory and personality. The being was long
ago saved from a mortal wound by her mother. The gender of the Djinn in
question is yet indeterminate, and it's not entirely clear how Katula came to
be born. She was normal up until the point the fragments of the Ifrit awoke.
From this point on the role is to be written in the format of fragments of
her thoughts, and holes, conclusions and assumptions to be filled in by the
reader based on CF and general lore that has yet to be discovered from the
relevant areas.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Djinn

Role

Chapter 4

I didn't realize it until now.

I don't belong in this world but I have the soul of a mortal. Why?
Or am I living in the mortal?
Am I trapped?
Cursed?
Insane?

Why this insatiable and bitter urge to kill?
I have thoughts and most of the time they're my own. Other times they're
someone else. But it's not another person.

I have to become a conjurer to divine the reasons for these things. If my
thoughts aren't my own they must become my own no matter what... and whatever
it is I'm splitting from I'm willing to merge with again to gain solidarity
with myself.