Mystrillania Tazz the Outsider in Contrition to Evermoon, Breathless Imbued

Role

Chapter 10

One day, while Mystrillania was going about her usual business of killing
Imperials and harassing Tribunals, she felt a strange sensation. It was as if
her feet were being mired in the swamps of her homeland, even though she was
not on wet ground. Being used to spirits sending her messages, she expected
the spirit would eventually speak. Perhaps this was the fourth of her spirit
guides finally making contact! But the sensation deepened, and she felt as
though she was being pulled down under the water. Her lungs began to fill with
water, and she was choking and gasping! She felt compelled to seek the forest.

Many years prior, Lyeeth had mentioned to Mystrillania that his goddess,
Rarywey, wanted to speak to her. When Mystrillania asked how the goddess even
knew of her, Lyeeth said that he had spoken to the goddess about her, and that
Rarywey likes witches. Mytrillania did not think much of it, because her
people had turned their backs on the gods many generations ago. In her coven,
the thought is that the religions of the outside world lead people to lose
sight of their own thoughts and feelings, and the true workings of the natural
world. The coven does not hold any "god" above the other spirits of the land,
and prefers to preserve the wisdom of the generations of coven ancestors as
opposed to any formal religious teachings. That is rather the point of the
"imbued witches", to gather and pass on wisdom to future generations to help
guide the coven.

But in this moment of drowning on dry land, Mystrillania knew that this must
be a summons, and one she could not ignore. So she made her way toward
Evermoon and the shrine of the Rarywey, though she had never visited it
before. Once there, the drowning sensation blessedly ended, and she felt
somehow more connected to the water than she ever had in her life. And her
water skin spoke to her! The skin was made from the hide of Mistrirn, a
horrible, lazy giant of the Spire, so at first she feared it was his spirit
haunting her. But it became clear this was not the case. The voice came from
the water itself, and told her she would now feel more deeply connected to the
forests. It also said that she might find here a second coven, if she so
desired. Mystrillania said she would think about it.

Immortal Comments

Role

Chapter 1

TLDR Summary of character:

- She's a witch! She comes from a coven of people from many races who have
withdrawn from society to practice spiritual magic in the swamps

- She is "imbued" with the power and guidance of four ancestral spirits. Those
spirits are:
. + Davtevar Stormblood: fierce human warrior, known for striking without mercy
. + Neritria Wolfmoon: A wood-elf druidess of great power who commanded the
animal kingdom
. + Bramble Aspenswamp: Gnomish healer, said to be wise but a little insane
. + Migrion Rainwood: A gentle storm giant who was said to have healed
ravaged lands

- She will come into contact with these spirits over time (basically
corresponding to gaining animist spells or any time she might need a strong
nudge in the right direction)

- Personality: Mystrillania is a bright and cheerful person, who is quite
indecisive. She tends to do whatever "feels best" at any given time. She has a
lot of strong feelings. If she loves something, she LOVES it. And if she gets
mad, she gets really mad. But she can't hold a grudge for long, because she is
likely to change her mind about whatever she was mad about. She longs to
explore and adventure, and wants to see all of the world.

- Protector of nature / Destroyer of civilization: Her people withdrew from
society, and have witnessed great destruction of the natural world. Raised
entirely in this environment, she is primed to defend the natural world, and
help tear down the root of the harm that befalls it.

Role

Chapter 2

Mystrillania stood naked atop the smoothed and flattened stump of a once-great
tree. The light of a full moon illuminated the clearing perfectly, though
robbing the vibrant colors from the familiar landscape around her. Her skin
was painted in the symbols of her coven, the symbols of their ancestral
spirits. The women of her coven surrounded her in a broad circle around the
stump. They, too, were nude. But they were unpainted. The paint was only for
the one chosen to be imbued with the spirit.

"Spirits of our honored dead, hear our voices!" called the high priestess,
Tillae, in a bright, clear voice. She was a high-elven woman who had led the
coven for many years. But the coven consisted of people from many races, those
who withdrew from society to practice spiritual magics here in the swamplands
west of Balator.

"She will be imbued by the spirit of Sultinae, the Dark!" Dresor, an older
human woman, whispered to the woman beside her.

"Hush, Dresor," snapped Tillae. "It is not for any of us to decide which of
our ancestors will guide young Mystrillania. The spirits will choose."

Mystrillania looked down at her coven sisters performing the ritual around
her. They circled and chanted, their voices blending into a chorus. She felt a
warm wind blow in across the swamp, carrying the scent of decaying vegetation
and tree pollen that she would always associate with home. She had looked
forward to this day for so long, knowing since an early age that she was the
chosen; the one that comes along only once in ten generations who has been
marked for imbuing. But now that the day was here, she could not help but feel
a little scared. What if the spirit that chose to guide her was terrible? What
if the spirit was weak? What if no spirit chose her at all?

As she thought this, a silver glow illuminated part of the darkened swamp.
Then another. Then another. Four spirits walked slowly into the center of the
circle. The coven sisters raised their voices, chanting faster, circling.
Mystrillania looked down at the faces of the spirits, their silvery light
hiding their features. She felt an intense energy building all around her. And
then, suddenly, everything went dark.

Role

Chapter 3

When Mystrillania opened her eyes, she was still atop the stump that served as
the focal point for so many of the coven's rituals. Someone had covered her
with a soft down blanket, and the symbols on her skin had been smeared in her
sleep. She could not remember anything after the spirits had approached her.
What happened? Had a spirit guide chosen her?

She got shakily to her feet and walked toward the encampment. Smells of food
cooking and the murmur of voices told her that others were just waking. She
saw Tillae standing with her arms crossed near the meat smoking hut, and
Mystrillania approached her nervously.

"Child, you wake," Tillae said simply, but not unkindly.

"Yes," Mystrillania replied. "What happened? Did one... did a spirit choose
me? Am I imbued?"

Tillae smiled. "Yes child, you are imbued. But not one spirit chose you. All
four did."

Mystrillania gaped, fumbling with the blanket around her shoulders. "Four? Is
that...? Four? Who are they?"

"I cannot say, child. In time, you will know them. They will reveal themselves
to you, when they think you are ready to learn their teachings. Each of our
powerful ancestors led lives filled with meaning, they have much to share. And
remember, when you pass from this living plane, you will join them and perhaps
imbue another. So you must learn well, child."

"Four," Mystrillania repeated. Of all the possibilities she had imagined her
whole life, this was not one of them. To be guided by one wise spirit was what
she had dreamed about. To be guided by four... she would have to consider what
this would mean. "I don't feel any different."

Tillae laughed. "Well, you are. And you will see that. In time."

Role

Chapter 4

Mystrillania sat in the middle of a forest clearing on a rough mat crafted
from reeds. She had been in this spot for the better part of two days,
waiting. For what, she did not exactly know. This was her vision quest, a time
when the imbued one would come to meet their ancestral spirit, she was told.
Since she had four spirit guides, she did not know if she would meet all four
on this vision quest. But so far, she had met none.

The threw a small rock at a nearby tree, and watched it bounce into the
underbrush. She swatted away a fly that buzzed near her face. She listened to
the frogs and birds singing in the forest. A small, gray squirrel trundled
down the trunk of a tree, chittering its miscontent at her before scurrying
away. She waited.

Then, suddenly, she felt a jolt shoot through her. She slumped forward, her
eyes squeezing tightly shut. Then, she had no more control over her body. Her
head raised and her eyes opened. They shone with a faint, silvery light. Her
head looked around the clearing, and she saw through her eyes but knew another
saw through them as well.

"Mystrillania," came a deep, baritone voice from her own mouth. "I am Migrion,
known in life as Rainwood and the Healer of Lands. I am here to guide you."

"Can... can I? Oh, I can speak, too?" Mystrillania asked in her normal voice.
"I guess so. Um... hello, Migrion, nice to meet you!"

A deep chuckle emitted from within her somehow. "We will know each other well
before the end. The others you will know in time as well. But I am here to
send you on a path. The path you are meant to walk."

"Oh? That's good that I have a path. I guess. Probably!"

"It is not an easy path, but it is yours. Seek you out the Refuge of
Thar-Eris, the Outlanders. It is with them that your journey will truly begin.
Like myself, you will be a healer of the land. Unlike myself, you will also be
a destroyer of enemies. It is what She needs now, from you. From all of us."

Role

Chapter 5

As Mystrillania attempted to comply with her spirit guide, Migrion, and seek
The Refuge, she came into contact with Pvask Tazz. He was a strange man...
intense and dark, and somehow compelling. As they spent time together, she
learned that he was a human body infused with a long-dead dark nature spirit.
In this was, she felt, he was similar to her and her imbuing, though it seemed
in this case the spirit had overtaken the host body entirely.

Upon their initial meeting, Pvask explained to Mystrillania that he felt
neither love nor hate, only a mission to destroy all that is not Thar-Eris.
But, over time, it seemed that his human body and its inherent feelings
overcame this, and he became infatuated with Mystrillania. He eventually asked
her to take his last name, to be wed. She was hesitant, because even though
she was drawn to Pvask, she worried that his feelings were based upon
proximity and unfamiliarity with human emotions. But after a time and some
thought (not much, because she does what feels good in the moment), she
agreed.

The two were wed informally in The Refuge with The Huntress as their witness,
exchanging promises in the tradition of Mystrillania's coven (even though it
was not a full moon, as was traditional). And then later, Feven gave them a
formal ceremony.

At the ceremony, Migrion Stonehaven (the storm giant healer who is one of four
spirits possessing Mystrillania) manifested, issuing a warning to Pvask. He
told Pvask that, even though Mystrillania trusts him, Migrion does not. He
warned that there is a dark, ancient spirit also inside of Mystrillania.
Migrion warned that, should he ever cross them, he would not live to regret
it.

Feven seemed a bit weirded out by the whole thing. Pvask himself did not
react. Mystrillania is herself unaware that the spirits can possess her body
completely, and has no memory of what Migrion said.

Role

Chapter 6

As she gained in power, Mystrillania began to feel a deeper connection to her
spiritual power. Migrion had blessed her with the power to heal through her
symbiosis with the life around her. But she felt another pulling as well...
one toward a darker, more angry spiritual force. She decided she needed to
speak to Migrion and find out what this meant.

Using her bag of scrying bones as a focus, she summoned forth the spirit of
the ancient storm giant healer within her. Migrion told her that it was time
for her to meet the second of the spirits with which she had been imbued,
Davtevar Stormblood, in life a fierce warrior known for striking without
mercy.

Davetevar came forth, and a dark and vengeful energy fill her body.
Mystrillania spoke to this new spirit, and he informed her that to aid in the
full restoration of Thar-Eris, it would take more than trying to heal.
Destruction was necessary. Davtevar would guide her in those ways, at first
giving her the power to unleash Davtevar's considerable spiritual energy as a
weapon. This ancestral spirit would tear at the enemies of Thar-Eris.

Davtevar instructed Mystrillania to go forth and use this new energy to enact
vengeance. What other consequences will hosting such a dark and destructive
force have?

Role

Chapter 7

Mystrillania stood in a clearing in the swamplands she called home. Her body,
as always, was painted with the symbols of her ancestral spirits, and the full
moon above shone down brightly upon her otherwise nude body as she stood
knee-deep in the water. Her arms were outstretched, her palms facing the full
moon above. Creatures large and small moved in the waters about her, but she
was unafraid. She could feel their energy blending with her own.

Suddenly, she felt a presence within her that she had never encountered
before. It felt proud, calm, calculating, and yet fierce beneath the surface.
Mystrillania's eyes glowed with a strange greenish light. A voice came from
her mouth, an echoing, dissonant tone.

"You feel the force all around you, at last, do you not young one?"

"Yes," Mystrillania whispered in her own voice. "Each of these creatures is
part of a greater whole, as am I. We are like one!"

"It is good that you finally understand this, and why I have finally come to
you. I am Neritria Wolfmoon, once a powerful druidess of your bloodline. I
will now help you on your path, as your guide as the two others before me."

"I have waited to hear from you for so long!"

"You were not ready. You needed to learn patience, and come to your own
realizations. I am happy to see that the influence of that Reaver has not put
you off course. In fact, in many ways, he has brought you to the balance
necessary to reach your full potential. But beware you do not go too far down
one path or another. That is not what She needs. Not from you. Take that
feeling you have right now, that interconnectedness to all living things, and
learn. You may be asked to sacrifice. Sacrifice a part of yourself, or a part
of the whole that is all around you. Know that it is the same sacrifice. It is
neither more nor less meaningful."

Mystrillania stood silently there in the swamp, feeling the spirit of every
bird, eel, lizard, dragonfly. She knew then that she was they, and they her.
And all of them Her, Thar-Eris. Even to strike down an enemy is to sacrifice
part of the whole, the self. It is a necessary sacrifice, but no less
meaningful.

Role

Chapter 8

Even before she had spoken to anyone, Mystrillania knew that one of her coven
had died. As she approached the village deep in the swamp, she saw her sisters
walking silently in the traditional black cloaks of mourning. They looked up
at her only briefly as she passed, each of them lost in their own reflections
on the one who had passed. Mystrillania did not speak, but sought each face,
looking for the one missing, as she approached the Hut of Remembrance.

Passing from the humid heat of the swamp into the relatively cool hut, she saw
before the Wall of Remembrance Tillae, the high priestess, kneeling before
bones laid carefully on the hut floor. Mystrillania knew that these bones had
been the body of a beloved coven sister, and had been stripped clean of flesh
by the swamp creatures as was their tradition upon passing, a funeral rite
that returned the flesh to nature. The skull had been polished to a fine
shine, and a symbol was inscribed upon the forehead: the sigil of the fallen
one. Mystrillania knew then that it had been Dresor who had passed from the
physical.

"Dresor," Mystrillania said.

"Yes," Tillae said simply, not looking up from her contemplation of the bones.

"How did it happen?" asked Mystrillania.

"Just age, child," Tillae said. "Humans age so quickly, it was her time."
Tilae looked up at Mystrillania at last. "As the imbued one, I know Dresor's
spirit would be honored if you placed her skull."

Tillae handed Mystrillania the polished skull, and Mystrillania walked with it
to the Wall of Remembrance. The wall was built of the skulls of the fallen,
all of their honored ancestors, each polished and inscribed with the sigils
they had chosen in life. There were large and small skulls, giants, gnomes,
felar. Mystrillania chose a spot for Dresor's, and placed it lovingly. She
gazed upon the skull, remembering the woman she had known.

"Your mate," Tillae said, startling Mystrillania from her reverie. "He is a
human as well, is he not? His time runs quickly. It is easy for our kind to
forget that."

"Yes," Mystrillania said. She thought of the gray that had crept into Pvask's
beard over the past few years, the wrinkles around his eyes. She knew his soul
was ancient, but his body was human and aging. Mystrillania touched the
shining gold band on her finger and tried not to think about the skull that
lay beneath that flesh.

Role

Chapter 9

Pvask had been speaking a great deal of late about his own death, by age or by
the gradual weakening of vitality. He had also become increasingly erratic,
displaying sporadic bursts of strong emotion followed by periods where he felt
distant. Mystrillania could feel the loosening tether of his ancient soul to
his borrowed flesh.

One day, just after Mystrillania had woken, Pvask suddenly came to her, a
strange expression on his face. He handed her his golden ring, the twin of
which she wore on her own finger. "We will meet again, my love, in the turning
of the cycle." is all he said. And then he dropped at her feet, his spirit
having finally departed his body. Mystrillania was stunned, but knew she must
fulfill the promise she had made Pvask years before, that she would take one
of his bones and prepare it in the traditions of her Coven. In this way, he
could still be with her in spirit after his passing.

Working quickly, Mystrillania severed the left ring finger of Pvask's body
using her sharp, silver ceremonial knife. Taking this finger to the swamp, she
gathered many of the carrion-eating worms that dwell there, placing them into
a little wooden box. She placed the finger within, and watched as the flesh
was quickly stripped from the bone. Mystrillania then called out to her spirit
guides to help her discover Pvask's personal sigil, a unique symbol that would
bind the spirit to this remnant of the physical body and allow him to return
to it when he wished. Mystrillania had explained to Pvask how this worked
once, showing him the bones she kept in her scrying bag, each bound to one of
her honored ancestors. She had explained that, when she finally passed on, one
of her own bones would be added to the bag to help guide future generations of
imbued witches.

But Mystrillania did not add Pvask's bone to the bag, for he was not of the
coven. Instead, after inscribing the sigil, she drilled a small hole in the
bone and threaded a length of leather through it. Also on this leather strap,
she placed the two golden rings she and Pvask had worn as a symbol of their
union. She tied the strap around her neck, keeping it always close to her
heart.

Shortly after, Gnobflink was harassing her about the death of Pvask, and
Mystrillania heard Pvask whisper to her: "How shall we make him suffer?"
Mystrillania smiled, knowing her love still watched over her and wanted to
protect her.

Immortal Comments

Role

Chapter 11

Upon thinking about it for her usual amount of time (not long), Mystrillania
decided that there must be a reason why her fourth spirit guide had not
manifested even after a considerable number of years. Her purpose for being
imbued with the spirits was to gather wisdom to help guide future witches.
Perhaps on her spiritual journey she needs the perspective of those beyond her
understanding, and there must be a reason this is happening now. So she
returned to the shrine, and there spoke with the tree that resides there,
learning about it and discussing her own beliefs and practices. It seemed that
much about the faith mirrored the practices of her coven. The tree collected
bones and memories, much like the Wall of Remembrance. The concept of the
eddies and the cycle of souls was a bit like the coven's ideas about spiritual
essence. And so, Mystrillania has decided to return to the shrine again in the
future and see where this path might lead her. Perhaps this wisdom will be
what she has been missing.

Role

Chapter 12

Mystrillania sought a particular herb pouch she had been told would be useful
for her in her fight for Thar-Eris. She believed the pouch was held by the
wood-elves of the Ar'atouldain, or possibly the invaders in those same woods,
she was not really sure. She started by asking the wood-elves for the pouch,
but was told in no uncertain terms that they would give her nothing. After
being told this multiple times by the drunken, loutish elves that stumbled
around the woods, she was annoyed. It was another example of how city dwelling
hardens the heart toward those of the wilds. There was a saying in her coven:
If you wish to make a nut pie, you have to be willing to crack a few nuts. And
so she continued her search through more violent means. She did not find what
she was looking for, however.

Later, Mystrillania approached a druid and asked to examine one of the items
she held. The druids had always looked upon her kindly. But she was surprised
this time to see scorn on the woman's face. "Be gone, kinslayer!" the woman
exclaimed. Kinslayer? This as a new term to Mystrillania. The druid would not
explain it, so she did some searching and determined that she had angered the
wood-elves, or possibly even the gods themselves, when she slew others of her
kind. To Mystrillania, "kinship" was not a term of racial identity. Those of
her coven were her kin, though they were of various races. The same went for
those of The Refuge.

Mystrillania sought council from Migrion Rainwood on the matter.

"How you view kinship is not what is important here, child. Sometimes how the
world views you and your actions is important beyond your own thoughts on the
subject. Surely you see that?"

She supposed she did, though she didn't like it.

"Perhaps this is something you can discuss with your new goddess friend,"
Migrion continued. "Is she not also of the wood-elves?"

At these words, Mystrillaia's heart sank. Yes, Rarywey was indeed a goddess of
wood-elves. Those wood-elves of Evermoon might not be Mystrillaia's people,
but they were certainly Rarywey's. If Mystrillania wished to pursue that
pathway of wisdom, and she very much did, she would need to find a way to make
amends to these people who looked upon her as "kin."

Role

Chapter 13

Mystrillania spoke to Rarywey about her situation with the wood-elves, very
much afraid that the goddess would reject her and hate her, maybe even strike
her down. But Rarywey did none of those things, and instead listened to the
circumstances and offered guidance. She suggested first that Mystrillania ask
her spirit guide, Migrion, what he would suggest to heal a wound. Migrion said
that a wound cannot be healed by simple stitching it shut. One must cleanse
the wound, and often treat the root cause of the wounds before it can be
healed. Rarywey said that she is not they one people come to with matters of
redemption, but instead suggested I seek the guidance of those on the Tree who
are more in that vein of thought: The Wardens.

Mystrillania is good friends with the warden Feratil, a wise being if ever
there was one. And so, she sought the guidance of Feratil on the matter.
Feratil listened to what happened and gave it a great deal of careful thought,
asking Mystrillania what is the difference between she and a true enemy of the
wood-elves, because it is not thoughts that matter in life but actions.
Mystrillania suggested it was her willingness to make things right, and to
become a true ally. But Feratil disagreed.

Instead, Feratil suggested to Mysrillania that what was trulty needed was an
action equal to the one that caused the harm in the first place. Mystrillania
had taken life. What she needed to do to make it right was to save lives. She
should offer her services to the wood-elves, to place her very life on the
line for their causes. To save the lives of those people, and risk her own.
Mystrillania found great wisdom in this idea. She made her way to Evermoon and
at first sought to speak to the King's advisors. They all dismissed her
rudely. She tried to speak to the prince, but he was very drunk. Princess
Ilythia Evermoon, however, was very kind and welcomed Mystrillania, even
expressing that she feared her father might be disconnected from his wild
roots. So she will return and try to speak to the Princess again, to see if
perhaps she can make meaningful progress to heal this rift.

Role

Chapter 14

Mystrillania stood at the edge of a caldera, gazing down into the glowing and
slowly shifting magma below. The heat would have been unbearable for most
people, but her magic protected her. Even still, the gasses that rose from the
magma singed the inside of her throat, and stung her eyes. But that was not
the only reason her eyes were watering. She had come here to say goodbye to
her oldest friend, her companion, her lover. She had decided she needed to set
Pvask's spirit free.

She untied the thin, leather strap that she wore around her neck. She looked
down at the objects strung upon it: one slender fingerbone etched with a
sigil, and two golden rings. All that remained of many long years of love. She
held the strap out over the lava, letting the objects dangle and sway in the
heated fumes.

"It's time to set your spirit free, Pvask," she said. "I promised you I would
keep you with me after you passed, so that you could watch over me and protect
me. I kept my promise. But I feel like... I can't move forward truly, holding
so tightly to my past. And your ancient spirit deserves to find new joy or
rest, unbound as you always have been. I chose this place because the fire
matches your soul. You burned so brightly, with such fury. I love you, and
maybe we will meet again some day, in spirit. Maybe in the Eddies, like
Rarywey says, after my time as a spirit guide is over. Goodbye!"

And with that, she dropped the items. They fell the distance and rested on top
of the dense magma below. For a long moment, nothing happened except a bit of
smoke drifting from the leather. Then, the bone began to twist and blacken.
The rings began to liquify. Mystrillania watched as the sigil on the
fingerbone was destroyed, and she heard a whisper in the heated air as Pvask's
spirit departed. He was free, now. They both were.

Role

Chapter 15

The hawk circled, its sharp eyes searching below for its next meal. As it
soared over the treetops, it passed over a forest clearing. Instead of a mouse
or rabbit, it saw there a small wood-elf woman, sitting cross-legged on the
dewy grass. She was nothing to him, and he caught the next updraft, circling
higher. Hunting, searching, waiting.

From below, Mystrillania gazed up at the bird, her eyes upturned in a smile.
She felt good. She felt... present. Much of her time had been spent thinking
of the past, or worrying about the future. But for the past few days, since
letting go of Pvask's spirit, she felt none of that anxiety. She felt as she
had in the days of her youth in the swamp, just living and experiencing the
wonder around her.

Suddenly, her back stiffened with a jolt. She felt a consciousness creep into
her she had never felt before. Her eyes glowed with a faint orange light.

"Ah, so the time has come at last!" she said in a strangely high-pitched voice
that was not her own. "You are ready for your final teachings, I think. I am
Bramble Aspenswamp! Teacher! Leader! Healer! Uh... gnome!"

"Bramble?" Mystrillania said in her own voice.

"Well it's not my real name. I don't remember it! Nobody does! But it doesn't
matter, it's my name now. All that matters is now! That's the lesson you
needed to learn, you goofy elf! It only took you what? 300 years? You spend a
lot of time thinking about things that don't matter NOW! Trust me, you'll have
a lot of time to think when you're a spirit waiting for your turn to guide.
Wisdom is gained from experience, then thinking later. Much later! Just go
experience life! You have a lot of it left, trust me on that."

Role

Chapter 16

Mystrillania had tried for years to speak with Princess Ilythia Evermoon
about her situation with the wood-elves, hoping to in some way make up for the
harm she had inflicted. The princess had been very gracious and always
listened, greeting Mysti warmly and being willing to hear her out. But she had
never committed to anything, never accepted Mysti's offer of dedication and
protection. Mytrillania kept trying and never gave up hope that she would, one
day, win back the trust of the wood-elves.

Eventually, after many talks, Princess Ilythia did grant Mystrillania an
opportunity to make up for what she had done and, perhaps, one day win back
the trust of her people. Mytrillania was to patrol the woods around Evermoon
and protect the people there. If any wood-elf ever asked her to do anything,
she vowed to grant the request without question. In this way, she hoped to
perform penance for the harms she had inflicted those many years in the past.

Role

Chapter 17

"Mystrillania! We are in need of a champion to help us, discreetly," came a
mental message from Princess Ilythia Evermoon. Mystrillania immediately made
her way to Evermoon and the Princess's chambers. There she found a wood-elven
prisoner in terrible shape, and a very distraught Princess.

"The castle is under attack by Velkyn Oloth," The princess said. "I cannot
risk panicking my people. Please dispatch the invaders!"

Mystrillania made her way through the twisting halls of Evermoon, seeking the
invaders. At first, she did not know what she was looking for, but it became
quickly apparent as she encountered the elite guards from that stronghold.
Accompanying some of them were specially trained assassins. Mystrillania
fought, calling upon Neritria's power to bring forth spirit animals when
possible. She learned that many of the halls of this place looked the same,
and she had no idea how to get to many parts of the city. Why would the wood
elves build a city like this? But it did not matter, Mystrillania fought until
no more invaders remained.

After the attack was repelled, Mystrillania returned to Princess Ilythia
Evermoon. The Princess was pleased that the invaders were no more, and said
that he people would know of Mystrillania's vigilance. In addition, the
princess wanted to reward Mystrillania with something special. Since Mysti did
not value coin, the princess produced a vial of a mysterious liquid from her
dresser. She said this elixir would help to boost the health of those who
drank of it, and that it was a secret of the royal family. After Mystrillania
drank of the potion, she felt her vitality return to her as she had not in
many years.

And so it seemed that Mystrillania was once again trusted by the wood-elven
people, and now had many more years to enjoy the newfound trust.

Role

Chapter 18

Mystrillania approached the huge, flattened stump that served as the central
focus for so many of the coven's rituals. She had visited this place many
times over the years, since her imbuing. But those times, the clearing had
been full of the life and energy of the coven. There was often chanting,
singing, laughter, music. But tonight, there was only Mystrillania, the stars
above, and the familiar sounds of the swamp life churning around her in the
darkness. It was a new moon.

She climbed the few short steps to the top of the stump, allowing the thin
cloak she wore about her shoulders to slip off as she did. Tonight her skin
was clean of the red sigils she had worn her whole life, representing her
coven's ancestral spirits; all except for one, drawn larger than usual just
over her left breast. It was a swooping, circular sigil, not quite a spiral.
It looked simple at first, but seemed more complex the longer one gazed upon
it. It was Mystrillania's personal sigil, the one that would, after death,
bind her to her bones to guide her coven forward.

Nearly a thousand years had passed since the imbuing. Mystrillania's body had
grown frail with age as well as her many battles. It was time now to release
the spirits that had guided her for those many years in preparation for her
passing from the flesh. This was the Ritual of Divestment.

Raising her hands up, her palms facing the stars above, she intoned the names
of her spirit guides. Migrion Rainwood, her first guide who had taught her to
heal. Davtevar Stormblood, the fierce warrior who had taught her to channel
her rage. Neritria Wolfmoon, the druidess who had strengthened her connection
to the animal kingdom. Bramble Aspenswamp, the kindly gnome who had taught her
to let go of regrets and expectations. As she intoned each name, a ghostly
apparition exited her body to stand in the cardinal directions around her.

Role

Chapter 19

For the first time in nearly a thousand years, Mystrillania had only her own
voice in her head, her own sight looking out from her eyes. It was shocking in
a way she had not anticipated, having grown used to the spirit voices. She
looked at each of the ghostly forms standing around her, those who had shared
her life with her and guided her.

"Hello," Mystrillania said, tears suddenly spilling from her eyes. "I... I
don't..."

"We know," said Migrion in his deep, rumbling baritone. "We, each of us, were
once guided by another. The end of the path is the hardest climb."

"I have asked over the years, but you have never answered. Can you answer now?
Why? Why were there four of you?"

"Because, child," said Neritria in her dissonant, echoing voice. "You were
marked for greatness. You were to have an extraordinary life. And we simply...
all wanted to be a part of it. We couldn't decide who would get the honor."

"I just thought you were particularly stupid and needed all the help you could
get," said Davtevar.

Mystrillania laughed, wiping tears from her cheeks. Bramble's tiny ghost
stepped forward. "You did wonderfully. Do not doubt the impact you had in your
time. Do not fear the impact you will have in the future." And with that, he
turned and walked into the swamp. Each of the spirits took one last look at
Mystrillania, and walked away, vanishing into the darkness. A warm breeze blew
through Mystrillania's hair, and she reached up to brush a stray lock behind
her ear.

PK Wins

Edges

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Edges

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Timeline

Leveling History

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Skill List

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Immortal Comments