Tsalantha Del'Anilienu the Fist of Darkness, Flame of the Scarab

Role

Chapter 13

...of late, I find myself contemplating the aspect of death, but not
in the way that I have in the past. Rather, I regret the loss of will when
a Child passes beyond. Without attaining immortality, their will is lost, like
dust upon the wind, save for how they have changed the world during their lives.
Only the necromancers seem to have overcome this in recent times. But in the past
there are stories of the Death Knights. Those of MY guild that have made
a similar transition. I must find out more of these beings, if my Will is to endure
beyond my life.

Role

Chapter 2

The vivimancer finished updating his diary, satisfied that even if his magic
didn't take hold, he would at least be no worse off than before. His satisfaction
was premature though, for the ghost that had been present flew back to the lich to report.
The vivimancer's plan was a secret no more.

The undead are not given to brooding, but this lich was quite exceptional in that
regard, and sulked for nearly 20 minutes before coming up with its revenge. Summoning
the skeleton before him, he exerted his will upon it, sending it through the silent
halls of the tower to the portal chamber, where he forced it through the first portal it came to.
At least now, he thought, I cannot lose either, for the vivimancer cannot prove
success.

Meanwhile, a rather confused skeleton found itself amongst a pile of bodies. Skeletons
don't usually suffer from confusion, of course. This was the first sign of the vivimancer's
magic asserting itself. But for lack of anything better to do, the skeleton lay down, staring
in turn at the stars, moon, sun, clouds, storms and snow. A careful observer would have
noted that the skeleton now had more flesh upon it, whilst the other bodies now had none.
Rot, and scavengers, had taken the flesh from the others, but none would touch the skeleton
that was Tsalantha. Some years later, Tsalantha sat up for the second time in her new existence.
She scratched her gaunt scalp, pondering this new sensation. She was cold, and uncomfortable.
Rising, she lumbered towards the smoke that gathered to the southeast, her walking
becoming increasingly proficient as she went. Her body, though still gaunt, more lifelike.
Arriving at the gates of Udgaard, she passed in without attracting undue attention from
the guards. Hunger now, she felt too, but fortunately there were enough stray dogs to
meet her needs, each giving her warmth before giving her sustenance. After some decades
though, she needed more, and her awakened consciousness took the decision to seek
out the power she would need to achieve whatever desires came to her. Thoroughly
disenchanted with her original career as a conjurer, she walked to the northwest of the city.
The guild of the anti-paladins loomed high over the surrounding houses, and she strode to
its door. The guard, however, was having none of it, until she took the first breath in
65 years and gave voice for the first time in an equally long period. So it was
that Tsalantha joined the guild, and rejoined life as the rest of you know it.

Role

Chapter 3

Tsalantha is not aware of it, but the heavens (and hells) were aligned in the aspect
of Truth at the moment of her birth. The revelation of Truth has been painful to her,
first through betrayal, and then through the gradual understanding of how she
came to live again. Her heart is heart, though, and she knows that to deny truths
changes not reality. Rather, recognition of truth enables her to shape reality to her will.
She has little time for those that choose to delude themselves in order to take false
comfort, or to give it. Such weakness makes one unworthy, and the unworthy deserve no
care. Some are beneath her, but others use the trust that the foolish place in them to
spread a gospel of wishes rather than facts. True, some are doing this only to enrich
themselves, which is an understandable goal, but they still spread a pestilence of
apathy or false motivation which is abhorrent to Tsalantha.

Role

Chapter 4

As Tsalantha gets used to life among the living, she has started to experience some
troubling episodes. Where before her memories were clearly those of a dark-elf,
now she has other memories, of life as a surface elf. It is not clear to her,
or anyone else, which memories, if any, are truly hers. All that is clear is that
as she lay in a pile of bones, the thoughts or souls of the dead melded, at
least partially, with each other. She intends to learn what she can of the
effect that is causing her issues in life. She knows where she wants to
go, whatever her origin, but is now unclear about her past.

Role

Chapter 5

As I explore the world, and learn what the guild has to teach, places I
should never have been seem strangely familiar. I also find that at times my
bones grate against each other, as if they did not fit perfectly together. It
is as if the bones which formed me are not from one body, but many. I can
see that I appear to be elven, but it is as if I have part of many elven
races in me, if thoughts and memories are to judge. Thank the gods that my
will is strong enough to overcome the corruption of the surfacers. I wonder though,
am I this way for a reason? Is this why I live, and am not dead? Or is this
simply part of the experiment that was all I was thought to be?

Role

Chapter 6

I heard today from an adventurer going by the name of Mak. He was telling all
who would listen that the Father of the Scarab Cult was looking for priests
and priestesses. His teachings sounded interesting, and woke a kindred spirit in me.
The use of the word "cult" does not sit comfortably with me though, implying as
it does some kind of inferiority. Still, I must find out more. Perhaps I shall
seek out the leaders of his church, and learn what I can from them, before I
approach the Lich itself. Liches, well, they leave me uncomfortable, even though
it seems I may owe my existence to one. Or perhaps because of that?

Role

Chapter 7

As I seek to understand how it is I came to be, and why I have these memories, many
are the necromancers I have questioned, but none have the knowledge I need. Worse,
I have yet to meet anyone that, when interrogated, even has heard of a vivimancer.
Most die under the questioning, which brings me to my decision.

Constantly I am lectured and hunted by those who claim my methods should not be used.
Constantly I am fed nonsense about redemption, or expected to let them take
my own life that this world might be free of me. No! No and no again!

It is time I put a stop to their interference. Who are they to tell others
what is right, what is wrong? They only think the way they do because they have
fallen for the lies of a goddess, or because of the way they have been raised.
Because they are misled by "love", or because they crave approval. Enough. I will
pursue my research no matter what they do, and if they get in my way, I may pursue
them as well.

Role

Chapter 8

Times have been exciting! I have been blessed by the Father, the Dark Lord, and have
been given much to think on. A lens, as it were, to see my life through, and to focus my efforts.
Quarissa, his Flame, seemed broadly satisfied with what she saw, but I sense seeks for
me to gain a greater understanding of my Will. This I shall do, though it may take time.
She has also tasked me with slaying a maran, and praying over the body. This does indeed
feel appropriate, and is no burden, though it be something of a challenge.

It leaves me with something of a quandary. I need to better understand myself before I
seek to act on a larger scale. It is also worth me getting a better grip of the magic and tricks that
the guild has shown me. Part of me is eager to carry out this task, but upon close examination
I know the best path is one of patience. All will come in time, and if there is one
thing my heritage has given me, besides a keen intellect, and good reflexes, it is time.
I will join the other children of Father, but when I am ready to best carry out His will.

Role

Chapter 9

The interrogations have proven fruitless of late. Either my subjects die, reminding me
that I need more practice at these techniques, or they know nothing. I am now resorting to
seeking rumors of necromancers and transmuters that might be able to shed some light
on my state of being. Of vivimancers, no one has heard anything. I have a list of
potential candidates for questioning.
1. There is said to be a necromancer in the ruins of Delar Tol.
2. There is said to be one in the vale of Arendyl.
3. Both transmuter and necromancer are said to lair in the mountains southeast of Hamsah.
This sounds particularly promising.
4. I shall, of course, need to spend more time with those of the High Tower of Sorcery.

It would be easy to become discouraged, but I am better than that. It may take time
but I will succeed!

Role

Chapter 10

This is not a feeling that I am used to, but I felt a deep sadness when I heard
that the priest Groyli had gone into hiding. His ambition stirred me, and he
acknowledged my talents without seeking to dominate me. Had he succeeded in becoming
Sultan, I might well have taken on his guard in return for tribute and access
to his spies. With his passing, I feel an emptiness. I can only hope it will subside
in time.

Role

Chapter 11

Tsalantha has chosen a last name. It means "waking" in the elvish tongue.
She has wondered why she would favor the elvish tongue for her name. Whether
it be some elvish part of her, or whether it be simply that the elvish
language best captures the essence of what she wants her name to mean.
Waking. Some might think of it as waking from mundane sleep, but Tsalantha
thinks of a waking from a spiritual sleep. A moving from a state of blind action to
a state of forging the path she chooses for herself. She did consider taking the name
of the Father, but decided she is as yet unworthy of it.

Role

Chapter 12

I remember it well. The night was cooler than usual. A blessing, after the heat
and painful glare of the Araile desert. A priest high in Father's Temple called to me.
She asked much, and made me ask much of myself. She did, however, seem satisfied
with my reasoning. Accepting of my goals. Persuaded that my mind was sharp,
and my Will growing in strength. Bidding me to come before her, she cut deep into my
brow with a ceremonial dagger. The pain was less than I expected, but that soon changed.
She spoke a prayer, or incantation. It was difficult to judge, but there was
a dark unholiness to it. Agony flowered within the flesh of my forehead, and it
was all I could do not to cry out. It passed, where my Will stood strong, and I was
accepted into Father's Temple for the first time.

The weight of ages was upon me as I walked the hallowed halls. I was blessed by
His servant, the arch devil, and acknowledged by one of Thera's oldest liches.

In truth, I felt at home for the first time since my rebirth.

I will make this my home. It is Father's home, and I am Father's child. The weak
will be scourged in His name, and I will teach them what it is to find one's will.

Role

Chapter 1

Tsalantha was apprenticed to a conjurer. Unfortunately for her, apprentices were
easily replaced, and it was not long before her master took the decision to feed her
to an unusually powerful demon in return for its services. Being an efficient sort
her master then bartered off the bones that were all that was left of her body to a lich
that was within the city. The elegance of his dark deeds impressed even him. He had
gained the services of a powerful ally, and a whip that drank the life from its
victim in return for the bones, and the risk of discovery was negligible once the lich
departed.

Negligible is a strange word, implying at once the lack of certainty but also confidence in
outcome. In this case, however, the outcome was not one the conjurer would ever have
imagined.

Lich and Vivimancer stood across from each other, the bones laid out in orderly
fashion upon the immense stone table between them. They did not speak, yet communicated
clearly with each other. "I accept your wager.", spoke the lich within the mind of the
vivimancer. "This one is beyond resurrection now, but if you can overcome my power once
I've animated her, then she is yours, and I will cease to oppose you in the chronomancer's
council for a century. If you cannot overcome it, then she is mine, and you will support
me in the council for the next century."

The vivimancer nodded once, almost imperceptibly. The undead mage was powerful, but
even the most animated dead lacked... inspiration, or imagination. The vivimancer knew
what he meant, but it was hard to define. Nevertheless, this was a wager he could not lose,
for the lich had not specified a time limit for the vivimancer to succeed. Besides,
he was confident that his magic would be able to bring life from death, for that was
part of the natural cycle of life that he could readily exploit.

Agreement reached, the two magi began drawing sigils in the air, glowing runes
springing into life before each of them. It was not long before the deep purple of the lich's
runes flared and sank into the bones, which suddenly knit together and sat up,
red eyes aglow. The lich focussed on the skeleton, and it began to move from the room.
Shocked, the vivimancer hurried his magic, realising that he might have lost the contest
before he'd even started, and that his ploy would be foiled if this was clear to the
lich. Thinking quickly, he sketched a final few runes in green and willed them
into life. They were not the magic he had originally planned, but at least this way
he could not lose. The runes flared into incandescence, bathing the skeleton in their
brilliance. The creature shuddered, in seeming pain, before continuing from the
room, yet as it exited, it looked back at the vivimancer.

Role

Chapter 14

The temple feels empty of late. Of course, Father's presence fills it, but those
who lived in it are gone beyond, in some cases. No more the wise words of Thurmonbrue, or
the teachings of Father's Voice, Quarissa. If the temple is to thrive, someone will need to
fill their roles. Am I the one? In truth, I so rarely have opportunity to travel that I
cannot see myself as taking on the mantle of Father's Voice. Once, I thought I could
serve as His Flame, for such seems to be where my talents lie, and I could accomplish
much even as His Voice spreads the word of Father at times when I would not be able to.
The bull Aurtu serves as Flame, though, and much as I might wish to see him take on the
mantle of the voice, the idea of a bull as a preacher is almost laughable. Perhaps Father
will see him given human tongue, the better to speak His word.

Role

Chapter 15

I'll never understand the lawmen, for they do not know their own Will. At
one moment they bind themselves to arbitrary strictures that serve only to protect
those not worth protecting, and at others they seek to solicit bribes in order to avoid
conflict in enforcing the laws they purport to uphold. Why, two days ago, the Magistrate
Kaelleas, may his soul forever be bound within my spear, offered to turn
a blind eye to my breaching of his laws if I returned the hands of a flame to him,
rather than wearing them. A strange offer, not just because he presents little threat as
it is, but because it seems at odds with all he has given his life for. This could be
seen as a sign of promise, of throwing off the blindfold that has been weaved about him,
but to my disappointment I sense it stems from a weak will, not a strong one. This
was backed up by his subsequent threats when I refused. My friends the Empire will come for
you... You will regret this!

Strange that he thinks to command this empire. Are they even weaker than I had
already concluded, to serve as lackeys to one that cannot fight his own battles? We
shall see. If so, their culling will further Father's desires, that of His children,
and that of those who are not yet bound to our family but will awaken yet.

Role

Chapter 16

Has moved on from being significantly focussed on her origins, though she
believes they may be key to becoming undead. Her work with the Cult has taken
precedence, slaying the profane, seeking to strengthen her own Will, and awakening
those who appear to have some potential.

She wishes to commune with Father, that she might proudly bear His mark.

Role

Chapter 17

Just as I'd begun to put my origins behind me, as biomancy seemed to be a lost
art, I have been set on a path said to lead to the greatest biomancer of them all.
Given the lack of practitioners, could it be that this one was the one that
served as Father's tool to start my awakening, first from death, then from blindness?

I will investigate further, though the dwarf who took me for a mage-slayer
seemed to think I had little hope of survival. Nevertheless, one cannot know
unless one tries. She whose will is broken from the start will never be truly
satisfied.

Role

Chapter 18

Often the apparently strongest of Wills meets its match in death, although
I hope to follow in Father's steps in overcoming this challenge. As a mortal, though
I continue to face down the Profane, and those unworthy of awakening, in His name.

With the flickering of His Flame, I shall seek to burn brightly where Aurtu did
before. To purify this land of those that would corrupt it with their false ways.

As a symbol of this, I shall focus on advancing in my guild, until the unholy flames
of the inferno answer my call, that those I face will be in no doubt of how I
fit into Father's plans. It remains only to convince Father that I am worthy of this honor.

Role

Chapter 19

The conjurer of the Fortress, Gwydien, had sworn a vow not to take lives. He sought
to live "up" to this, despite my repeated strikes against him. However, I used the
hostility of the outlanders and his anger with it to start his Awakening. So far,
he has conjured a devil, which killed him in amusing fashion but not before
convincing him of its power. A nightgaunt, with which he killed the Harbinger.

He is seeking access to the Lycaeum to read of the sacraa, and has started
supporting my endeavours. Offering to use nightgaunts to bring me foes, and
clearing the way for me to enter new places.

I believe that his awakening cannot be stopped, for his early steps will already
have caused the gods of light to reject him, when they find out. It remains only
for him to find Father.

Role

Chapter 20

Life is tough, but tough is good, for it strengthens the will in a way that times of plenty
cannot. Even so, I feel frustration at times, for prey are thin on the ground. The Empire
cluster, protected from my ice and flame. Too many to make slumber. Their warriors defter
than ever as a result of arcane magic. Others, not of the Empire, seem to have weakened souls, perhaps
from their own war with the horde. Times are hard, but patience will win out. They will be
taught Father's Truth, my Truth, or die screaming. If nothing else, they see that one opposed them.
Even in their numbers, they have yet to set foot into the Temple while I am present.

Role

Chapter 21

Things have gone better of late. As Lilyth hounded me as is her way, I managed to steel myself
against the lightning she called and with the finest blow of my life, cleaved her in twain. My
blade of obsidian awakened like nothing I've ever felt. The power it drew from her unmentionable, and perhaps
unparalleled to date. I am eager to feed on her soul again, but it will not be easy, for now she
seems to band with Farmaur, of the most profane Maran. That said, this is incidental. Other
matters have also progressed.

As I fought through Trothon's tower, seeking a wand on the basis of information provided by my guildmaster,
I came across a text. Perhaps I had seen it before, but not appreciated its importance. It spoke
of matters of the creation of the Death Knights. How they were rewarded for betrayal, by higher powers.
Father seems to know something of the ways of the Death Knights, for He described it as
achievable, but at a price. Perhaps He has the power to assist the breaching of Death's horizon.
I must remember to learn of His Will, and his knowledge, in this matter. For now, though, I have
heard rumors of more writings, in a monastery's library northeast of Voralia. I must investigate...

Role

Chapter 22

It has been some time now since Davarrah spoke to me of the possibility of
empowering the Icon with the power of the shadows. I have not seen the wight, Ortus,
that she indicated might act as a messenger. In the meantime, however, I have gathered artifacts
that I hope will enhance our control of the shadows. A dagger, inscribed with
words that it claims will allow you to enter the spirit world. And a
circlet from which shadowy creatures reach into our plane of existence.

For now, I will bide my time, and grow my strength, stealing the very souls of the
profane, that service to Father empowers me as it does Him.

Role

Chapter 23

For the first time, I feel my age. Without the souls to energise me, I would
be brittle, and forced to rely only on my mind. Not that my mind has let
me down, yet, but the aged have been known to lose that too. And yet there is
so much to do. A problem, when you don't know how long is left.

I feel I have made significant progress in prosecuting Father's Will with the
profane. Few step out from hiding when I am around, and of the few that do,
many will not attempt to oppose anything I do, even the taking of their artifact
of power. Calcabrizzo, being a prime example, having not once attempted to defend it,
or to retrieve it, even when I know he has heard me taking it. In fact, he seems
to send himself to a place of silence when he knows it is about to be lost,
as if to pretend he has no knowledge, and therefore no reason, to fight.

However, outside of the war with the profane, which goes well, my other efforts
have not proven fruitful. Perhaps, indeed, because of my focus on the war. I have not
succeeded in my efforts to create a weapon of bone, using the fragments of revenants
that didn't survive their calling against the profane. Nor have I unravelled
the secret of my origins, though I am unclear as to whether that still has any importance.
Finally, I have come to a grinding halt in my attempts to discover a way to defeat
death itself, and it is in this that I wonder if my origins are proving problematic.

In truth, I have lived a long life. Perhaps, when the time comes, I will
find myself ready to rest, though I would never have believed I could.
Ahh, another sign of my age. Nostalgia for the days when prey were thick upon the
ground, and a quick trip to the mausoleum of Galadon usually yielded a fresh body.
I cannot complain though. Their absence is a sign that Father's Will has been done.
It has been my pleasure to sally forth in His name. My pleasure, and my Will.

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