Najhriv the Grand Master of Changelings, Magistrate of Galadon

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Role

Chapter 6

You think me bitter, you think me self-loathing. I know. But how much it
must amuse you, to see me search walls in vain for an unseen cell door,
to crawl nose to ground in a ditch hunting for the way down, when the way
is so well known known to all your other students - a trap door that can
only be known through secrets spilled from mouth to ear - never learned
by eye to surface, or paw to ground.

But I will uncover the secrets of magic veiled throughout this world,
whether some think I ought to or not.

Slowly, this world bares its fruits for me, as my mastery of form grows.

For the forms of the cats grace me, as naturally as they ought for a felar.
How dearly I wish for my primal claws to rip the flesh off the faces of
those who wish to put me back in my "rightful place," far from magic.

But I do not hunt flesh, as those who hunt me do. I hunt secrets, and
steadily, the more I uncover, the less lustily the outlanders and
battleragers will prey on me, as easy an enemy as they believe a felar
mage to be.

It is true. I am bitter. And I am most impatient to punish them all for
their brazen superiority. But how can I, when the power within me is
so easily weakened by others' mastery of the artifacts of this world?
So their souls I cannot yet stalk. I instead take measure of the magic
surrounding me.

The climb always seems insurmountable, but my claws are sharp enough to
take hold. And as they scratch their way up to the secrets denied me,
be assured that they will rip away the facades that veil the truth of magic
from my kind. One day, all those who doubted me... they will learn.

Role

Chapter 5

"Be more grateful."

Be more perceptive, is more like it. Bound by my bitterness with the lies
of this world - not least of all from you, Anttiya - I see that it has
been only lies I looked for, and less truth.

The truth is, you have quietly bestowed trust in me. A black rod, simply
held by a member of the Consortium of Magic... I did not believe you, no.
So this felar is suddenly good enough to be bestowed truths, not tests?

That is the way of the world, isn't it? We preserve what empowers us, and we
only empower those who strengthen us, not weaken us. So I am no longer some
fool felar fighting for a shred of the truth veiled throughout Thera. You
know I fight for magic. You know I protect our guild, I protect order.

And we both know it is all threatened.

So, Anttiya, our next mystery. How to defeat the battleragers? The key
is the veil, isn't it? And nothing less than knowing the catalog of the
entirety of magical artifacts in Thera will enable me to learn how to
manipulate it?? Such a thought fills a felar with fury.

The truth is, it is all harder for me. Incantations fumble from my furred
lips, nuances of knowledge elude my mind. But our kind are children of
magic, and I know there is a unique affinity for it within me, awaiting
my discovery.

And when I find it, the veil will be rended open, and the barbarian
village will be scattered with the corpses of the deceived.

Role

Chapter 4

Ah, Anttiya Shello, I thought perhaps I could trust you more than that
cruel Ravertom, but I am ever the fool aren't I?

"A relic of the dwarven magi has a rod of power near it. Look to the
relief to find some."

How much did it amuse you to know that I would comb any and all dwarven
lands seeking some unknown relic, some punned relief, Anttiya? How
satisfied was your snideness at the failures of this unwelcome student?
How delighted was your pride at the randomness of your riddle?

Yes, so many times I nearly perished, wandering far from where I should,
futily trying guess where any sort of relic might reside. You wished
me to to be too weak to stand as strong as some human or elf against the
likes of Korgosodom or Ruvende, didn't you? Do not lie, for there is no
point. Your intent to deny the power of shielding, to force me from this
trade is transparent, Anttiya.

But how deeply do you twist your deceit! Knowing I trusted you, depended
on you... when I failed, even though so close, and tred to confirm with you
the secret of this powerful sienna rod, what did you tell me?

You said it now resides in the underdark on some hideous drow-like
beast, undersea? How you test the depths of my gullibility, when all
I wish is to be one of you! Such confusion and chaos you sow, such
bold-faced lying!

And you knew none of them would aid me, of course. Not Nephinae. Not
Quislar. Not Kareen. Not Kajta. Not Smokibonyae. Not Faeha. All liars,
all intent on seeing me fail. But I am resolved. I am resolved to
reveal you all. Because I know there are others out there who are
wise enough to understand what can be gained from an ally such as
myself. Anti-paladins, for example. Perhaps no mage is more despised,
more than a felar shapeshifter, even, than an anti-paladin?

The Imperial Dread Lady herself understood. You did not count on that,
did you?

Sargrizitha, no, we need not trust each other, do we? There is something
more valuable than blind faith, something for more reliable. Shared need.
To share a common desire, a mutual interest, that is the only path to
discovery in this world - when most would have the curtains stay drawn.

And so the truth is mine. That room with the summoning stone, where my
keen cat eyes combed the lines of that dwarven relief with what I truly
believed to be utter meticulous detail, hid this great sienna rod with
such sinister placement: the robes of a relief. But now I know. Inspect
every thing. For the secrets of this world be not revealed by any rhyme
or reason - only persistence.

If not for Sagrizitha, I have been wandering lost in the underdark
for ages thanks to your lie, Anttiya. Giving me a hint to a black rod of
barrier, when I wished only to confirm the location of a sienna. You will
perish soon enough, Anttiya, and then we will see if your tongue twists
a bit less falsely in the future.

Role

Chapter 3

You thought you could trick me, Ravertom? Send the stupid felar on a wild
chase, hm? "Damp storage bins." You would have had me sniffing all about
that bathhouse of death for ages had I not stumbled upon the young
necromancer. Together, yes, we reversed fate. Clever, hiding that amber
rod next to a powerful mage who looked poised to murder.

But he did not, and though many a trap awaited below ground, I was not
so easily fooled.

You all try to slow me, as if the mere thought of a felar learning any
of your secrets is taboo. But I have found this rod, and I have found
another. All with no help from that haughty archmage.

But the joke is on you all. For I have gained membership to the High
Tower of Sorcery itself, and soon, yes, I will prove to the Archmage
that I am indeed worthy of his secrets. And then, one day, I will kill
him with the knowledge he let me unlock.

Role

Chapter 2

It is too much to ask isn't it? For a simple cat to try to live in this
world unbothered? They wish to keep me in my place. How naive I was to think I
could fit in with the other mages.

I rested in the Guild of Shapeshifting, as though I were one of them.
But when I awoke? A stranger, a kindred shapeshifter, murdered me
immediately. Ihol, was his name.

There is no independence in this land. All of them, forging false friend-
ships just to ensure their protection and, not least of all, power.

You are at liberty to murder whomever you wish, Ihol? Did lowly Najhriv
strengthen your reputation satisfactorily? Or what of you, Raik? To
hunt the world for any and all opponents, in the name of combat? Of
"brawling?" When you merely poison and summon just as any other priest.

Yet you Raik, who lustily summoned me to Thrym so many years ago, did not
find a fight me with me so appealing when it suited you to rank? Perhaps
my death was not so memorable. But joining you, then, of course, suited me
as well. But how clear you were. To the exact, precise rank of 28. That is
when you would stop, so you would be at your most deathful, for whatever
period it was that suited you.

Liars, all of you, "Outlanders." Ihol, you have spurred me to forge my
own false friendships. I will join the Blood Tribunal, and I will bring
a most hindering form of truth to the lot of you. Whether you think I
deserve to or not.

Role

Chapter 1

You think it fine. Clutching your secrets as you do, so tight to your
heart, reveling in your superiority.

But you made us. And now we litter the lands, many of us hating you,
while some... just try to move forward. The felar are a cursed race?
Destined to be weak, destined to be held back by burdens of ignorance
and poverty?

But me, no. First, I will be one of you. And then, you will be below
me. How mad you will be? Opened your guilds of magic only to the most
hated class - you would have me be a mere killer, an anti-paladin? But
this other door you left ajar, shapeshifting? That is enough. It is
enough for me to learn, to find what I seek.

And what I seek, of course, is the truth. All your secrets. How you
covet them!

It is a shame how much one must lie to find the truth, of course. But
I am not on a mission of honor. I am selfish, just like you. You are not?
Well you cannot not see even the truth of yourself, then. But I can.
It is the one gift I have, you see. Rooting out your lies, that is
how I will become like you. That is how I will bring you down.

Why?

Oh, now you care to know my truth? Would it matter that my litter
packed up everything and left the poverty of Blackclaw in search of
a better life in Hamsah, only to find nothing but toil and servitude?
Would it matter that me and my siblings were each, one by one, polluted
into darkness by necessity of circumstance? Yes, mother, a great
decision to move us there. Nanvee, a clever thief and occasional
prostitute. Nevrev, a cruel desert bandit. Natth, an imperial minion.
And me. A sorceror. Free.

Do not call me a shapeshifter. I am a mage. You will see. I may not
be more than some magical cat, but I will be. I will not let any of
you stop me.

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