Yfetris Sra'Akas the Weaver of the Elements

Skill List

Role

Chapter 7

A whip of stinking blood lashed out from the pool and wrapped around the leg
of one of the mercenaries Yfetris had hired for this expedition. Rather than
pull him down and into the pool, it grew spikes into the man's flesh where he
stood, tearing the rough fabric of his pants. Hideous black channels snaked
from the puncture wounds, the putrid blood invading his body, and then the
flesh began to wither before everyone's eyes, the blood forcefully drained
from the leg as the tendril swelled in size.

As everyone else looked on in horror and bewilderment, one of the other
mercenaries acted quickly and cleaved the man's leg off at the knee. This one
had strong instincts. Attacking the creature would not have saved him, but
cutting off the infected leg might just do so. The severed limb was pulled
away, absorbed into the now swirling tides of blood. The blood that then
flowed from the wound seemed to take on a life of its own as well, flowing
almost eagerly towards the pool.

The swirling crimson tide rose up, the putrid odor becoming, somehow, more
powerful, causing the party to have to choke back bile. An orb of water
emerged from the blood, not quite pure, stopping to hover just above it, as if
considering the intruders to its domain. Yfetris fired a torrent of gel at
the orb, the standard response to water elementals, but it dove back into the
blood before it could reach.

Then the swirling blood coalesced, rising up as a single creature, the orb of
water moving around on the surface of the being, the relative purity a stark
contrast to the reeking mass. Yfetris realized she had read about a creature
like this before. A blood elemental, a combination of conjuration and
necromantic magic, creating an elemental from the water pulled from the lungs
of drowned corpses, and infused with necromantic energy. While the elemental
itself is water, it controls nearby blood, using it to drown, infect, and kill
as many creatures as it could to add their blood to its own mass.

This was bad. So many ritual killings had swelled this elemental to a
colossal size. They could only flee. Everyone seemed to have the same idea.
One of the mercenaries, the one with good instincts, she noticed, took the
opportunity to push his injured companion down the slope and towards the
elemental.

Then they ran.

Role

Chapter 6

Stirges fluttered about like gnats in the cold tunnels beneath the temple.
Their thin, batlike wings burned brightly, lighting up the darkness ahead of
them as Yfetris invoked fire to keep them and their sharp, blood-sucking
proboscises away from her party.

Strange. These tunnels were sealed. While she could imagine stirges
infesting this place while it was still active, the blood of ritual sacrifices
enough to appease a demon god must have ran in rivers, there couldn't possibly
be enough left to keep these leeches satisfied after so long.

Undeterred, the group continued forward, walking over the ashes of the
creatures, the cries of their brethren echoing through the tunnels ahead. As
they progressed deeper, the stirges only grew more numerous, and the metallic
stench of rotten blood began to assault their senses.

The tunnels opened into a large room sloping downwards, in the center of which
was a massive stone altar with cruelly-barbed shackles hanging from each
corner. Though the altar was dry, beneath was a pool of blood, the depth
impossible to tell. Stirges could be seen fluttering just above the stinking
pool, dipping their proboscises down into it to feed.

For a moment, Yfetris regretted having come to this place. But she steeled
herself. Knowledge worth acquiring is only to be found where others fear to
tread.

She ignited the creatures, their cries echoing through the room in an almost
deafening wail. While she could see well in the dark, the illumination of
burning wings showed that something seemed to be moving within the blood.

Role

Chapter 5

Yfetris was a sacrificial egg for a ritual that would absorb all the evil
energy and Weh from her tribe.

Before the egg could be sent away after completing the ritual, a black dragon
was awakened and swallowed it.

The malevolent energy in the egg drove the dragon mad, and it destroyed the
village and attacked several surrounding towns before being killed by a group
of adventurers.

The egg was released by the dead dragon, and she was brought to the Saurian
Village after hatching.

She has an ancestral curse, and is prone to bouts of insanity as a result of
the ritual, but she lives on, growing up to become an invoker, seeking to walk
the darkest paths seeking the way to live forever, and write a book for the
Eternal Library.

Role

Chapter 4

Yfetris was raised in the Saurian Village, the elders there being fully aware
of what a miracle her survival was.

They had pieced together what must have happened to her egg with what the
adventurers explained after bringing them the hatchling.

She was a being of Weh, profoundly cursed, and given to bouts of madness, but
that was not her doing, and was not her destiny until the selfishness of her
elders foisted it upon her defenseless egg.

It seemed the dragon had absorbed much of the malevolent energy that infused
the egg, which allowed her at least some semblance of a normal life.

So they cared for her, and allowed her to grow into a saurian of significant
magical talent.

They never hid the story of her clan, or what they had done, and intended, for
her.

She embraced what she was, a castaway, a sacrifice meant to die, and so
chooses a path that is the opposite of what they intended.

As she was to die, she wishes to live forever, in whatever form that may be.

She aspires to write a book that will stand proud in the Eternal Library.

She will walk the shadowed paths that lead to immortality, and a lasting mark
upon Thera.

She will plumb the darkest depths, for her soul has already been charred black
as night.

It all begins with a single step.

Role

Chapter 3

Exhausted and battle-worn, the group of adventurers stood amidst the
smoldering ruins of a saurian village that had become the creature's lair,
their weapons still glistening with the corrosive residue of the now dead
black dragon. The air was heavy with the acrid stench of burnt vegetation and
the lingering aura of malevolence that had once consumed the swamp. As the
beast had died, it seemed to vomit up one last pool of acid. Strangely,
something within it seemed to be faintly glowing.

Curiosity piqued, the adventurers cautiously approached the fallen dragon.
With great care, they prodded into the corrosive pool, and extracted from it a
gruesome sight-a churning, ethereal mass pulsing with life. Perhaps this thing
was what caused the dragon to behave so unusually aggressively, attacking
nearby towns and causing a bounty to be placed on its head. As they watched,
the mass seemed to wither in the sun, tentacles slowing and fading until,
eventually all that remained was a large saurian egg, etched with numerous
swirling patterns that faintly glowed, even in the light of day.

Picking it up, they realized that it was, somehow, still alive.

It shuddered once, and began to hatch.

Role

Chapter 2

He gazed down at the rune covered egg, now black as pitch, the runes pulsing
with sickly, malevolent light, like a demonic heartbeat, fast and erratic.
All the evil, selfish, dark thoughts of his tribesmen were encased in this
single being. A sole sacrifice for the purity of the many, that they may live
in peace and tranquility in worship of the Sra.

He had to be quick now. The concentrated Weh would attract all manner of vile
creatures that feed on dark energy. He ran to the river as fast as his old
weary legs would carry him. The ritual was draining, but he had strength
enough for this.

Reaching the muddy banks, he looked down at the egg once again, whispered his
sincere apologies to the life that would never be, and lifted his arm to hurl
it into the rushing waters. But with a flash of black and a spray of red, the
elder found himself unable to complete the motion.

It was a moment before the agony of his arm having been torn from him
registered in the old saurian's mind. The first thing to hit him was the
overwhelming fear and dread of the creature materializing before him. The
unmistakable form of a black dragon, not quite an adult, and beautiful in its
malevolent presence.

The dragon shook off the muck and reeds that covered it. It had been having
such pleasant, crimson dreams. But it had heard the whispers, and an even
more enticing distraction presented itself.

The elder's arm was in its mouth, egg still gripped in the quickly slackening
claw. With a quick jerk, egg and arm both disappeared down its fleshy throat,
swallowed whole.

It burped contentedly.

Then the two burning orbs of malicious intent turned onto the elder.

Role

Chapter 1

In the heart of the marshy swamps of Ysigrath, where the balance between life
and death holds profound significance, a single egg of pristine white is held
in the clawed hands of the saurian elder of tribe Sra'Akas. He is alone
beneath the boughs of a great tree, one of the many fruit trees his small clan
tends in peace and tranquility, contemplating the egg.

He sighs deeply. This has always been his task. He will allow the rest of
his people to live in blissful ignorance while he suffers the burden of this
sin. With a heavy heart, and the weight of his entire tribe upon his
shoulders, he begins his foul work.

By the light of the full moon, in finest detail, he carves the runes, each
symbol a wound upon his heart as well as the egg, one tiny pattern for each
member of his tribe that sleeps this terrible night away in peace.

When he is finished, he rises, fierce and determined, but his legs tremble
like the branches in a storm. With an effort of will, he calls out to the
open air, and a foul miasma rises from the direction of his village,
coalescing around the egg. Whispers fill the air, they swirl around the
saurian in a maddening cacophony. Bitterness and resentment, distrust and
greed. But he has done this many times before. He will not be swayed. The
egg glows with a sickly light in his claw, and the swirling fog is sucked into
the egg, the sounds vanishing like a lie.

The swamp is silent once again. Not even the chirping of insects disturbed
the serenity of the night.

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