Glim mutters something to himself, and asks the guard directions to both the Midnight Mushroom and to the nearest blacksmith's forge. Receiving these, he bids the group farewell for the time being, stating a desire to get back to "honest" work. Tana replies quietly, "The Midnight Mushroom, sounds like an herb for a traveler that seeks neither road nor river on his journey to oblivion." Towards the party Tana says "Alas Penticon, the home to the one Oracle. If not for the comportment of these two ladies, I would say our paths have reached its conclusion, however I feel it is not the surcease of the Inn you seek. Perhaps I may still be useful upon your continued quest?" Kyran replies, "Maybe? I don't know... I just met them a little while ago myself." Once within the gates of the city, Segev performs a short incantation with acompanying gestures. Then, with a motion of his hand as if wafting the odor surrounding his "cargo" away, said odor changes to a strong smell of especially astringent lye soap. Equally repulsive and strong, but less likely to attract flies. Then, with swiping motion, his robes and equipment are superficially wiped clean of the dust of the day's travel. "That should take care of the smell. For an hour, at least." That done, he turns to his companions once more. "I have some personal business to attend to, now that we are in a town. I assume some of you will want to engage your excellent information gathering skills, while others will pursue avenues of research into the nature of our quarry's quarry. My business will take about a day. So, I shall see you tomorrow." That said, he turns to Lannstucht for a slightly more private conversation. "I fear I must request the continued loan of your new horse until we next meet. I promise to see that it is well cared for, and that I shall have no further need of it when next we meet. I thank you for the loan if it this long. Good day." With a short parting bow, he turns in a swirl of black and glides away, leading the horse that bears his cargo. He seems to be heading for a slightly seedier part of town - especially if the grimace he quickly supresses as he heads in that direction is any indication. Kyran looks at Segev quizzingly, dashing *very* quickly in front of the robed figure before he makes any headway, blocking his path. "Hold on. Why are you taking the body with you? Shouldn't we go about its proper burial, as you stated before?" A small smile hinting at dark amusement briefly touches Segev's lips as he regards the younger man. "I will take very good care of my spoils," he replies steadily. "And any burial will, indeed, be performed with all respect due to the soul that once inhabited this body. My spell won't last for long; I'm sure you don't want your remarkable nose nearby when it wears off. If you will excuse me... I would get everything situated to my liking as soon as possible." He attempts to maneuver himself and the horse around Kyran, gently putting one hand on the boy's opposite shoulder and applying minute pressure to keep him from moving to intercept. Kyran mutters a small phrase in Draconic as Segev walks off, returning to Caere to continue his statement. "I hope for his soul, and your own, that I can trust you; that I do." Segev turns briefly to reply, "So long as you are trustworthy, you will find me to be likewise. I have not lied to you yet, Kyran." He then speaks one more sentence, this one in the same language Kyran muttered before. With that, Kyran turns to the rest of the party. "I really don't trust him... Something's not right: He wouldn't be avoiding my questions like that if he was doing something... appropriate, that he wouldn't. Should I follow him?" "Leave well enough alone boy. I know you mean well, and that one is rife with the stink of corruption," Drakar puts derisive emphasis on the word 'stink' and continues, "but there is an old saying - do not meddle in the affairs of wizards and dragons..." Drakar trails off. "He has done nothing yet whilst in our company. Let his actions, both past and future, speak for your verdict. And do not be so hasty to condem." Drakar nevertheless eyes closely the back of the departing necromancer until it fades from sight. "I will leave you to your rooms in this....city. If you have need of my services, or if...spirits or the netherworlds plague you, Narush and I can be found just outside the gate we entered for the next day." With that, Drakar and Narush head back into the woods. Kyran nods, looking up to Drakar. "I... suppose. I shall take my leave here as well. If you wish to find me, and you probably will eventually, I shall be outside the gates most likely. Walk out and light a torch to alert me to your presence and I will be with you shortly, that I will." With that he walks deeper into the city, looking around somewhat strangely. "I must concur with you," Tana comments. "It is always best to leave wizards and dragons to themselves. There may be yet another time that we may need to tempt the wheel of fate. But for now, I would rather get something hot to eat. Trail fare is still lacking in the enticing of one's appetite." Katrina frowns, nodding at Kyran. "You may not be unobtrusive enough. Ananzi, however, is smaller and less noticeable. Perhaps we should send him, instead?" She looks towards the rest of the group. Paia found a tree to nest in outside the city walls before the party entered, with Ananzi keeping close to Katrina. Kyran looks around uncomfortably. "I'm considerably better at remaining hidden than your... familiar, of that I am sure. Perhaps it is right to leave him to his own devices." He smiles sheepishly. "I, um, would any of you know where I could improve the magic potency of some of my equipment? I'm a little new at this, and normally my parents would be happy to oblidge such a request." Menaria looks over at the others, "I'm heading for the Temple now. We can all meet up later at this shroom place if you want?" "I would accompany you if you desire. You carry your grief like a cloak, concealing the luminosity of your joy. I would be honored to aid in eradicating said cloak. A hot meal will continually be available," Tana says to Menaria. Menaria smiles weakly at Tana. "I would not mind company...if you don't mind my haste in reaching the temple, please join me then." She stands a little bit taller as she pulls her shoulders from the slump she had not been conscious of doing. "I am sure a meal could be provided." "I can understand the quickness of ending ones quest. Especially, if as I surmise it is one you would rather not have commenced. The proposition of repast is quite welcome." Tana replies making ready to follow. The quiet wanderer moves in from the general rabble of the crowd to brush briefly against Menaria. As he does this, he speaks: "I fear we haven’t the time to waste. The temples usually have accommodations so I see no need to waste our time at an Inn." His voice is an unidentifiable rasp. At this point you can only tell that he is a man from the way he walks. After he says this, he fades back into the crowd. Hearing the man speak before he 'vanishes' into the crowd, a frown crosses her face. "That is true." She turns to the others. "Meet me at the Temple later if any of you discover anything. I will be staying there. I might be able to get those of you who do not have too much money to be able to stay as well maybe." She turns to Tana and once he is ready, Menaria heads to the temple with him. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- As Segev attemps to acquire his own lodging for the coming day: A fair-haired elf brushes against the corpse-laden horse, "Your pardon." He wrinkles his nose in disgust as the odor assails him, "What in the name of Barsus is that smell??" His eyes close as he notices the corpse lashed to the saddle, muttering, "Barsus have mercy on this poor soul." Collecting himself, he states, "Please move this beast aside, your milling about the streets is impeding my journey to see the Oracle." Segev doesn't even seem to notice the outspoken elf as he glides past, though the horse doesn't impede said elf's progress long, given the purposeful pace at which the necromancer moves. The elf, not one to be ignored, speaks in a louder tone, "My thanks, Traveller. But perhaps you should do something about the rotting corpse on this fine equestrian's back?" He prods said corpse with the tip of his bow. "Who was this poor unfortunate? A comrade, perhaps?" The black-robed figure turns his blond head to peer over his shoulder, not deigning to actually turn to face the elf. "What I do with my comrades is no concern of yours. I am, in fact, going to 'do something' about it right now. A process you are quite rudely impeding." With that, he turns his head to once more gaze forward, and leads the corpse- laden horse smoothly away. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- Menaria and Tana find themselves, after a short walk, approaching the Temple District. A bust of each deity sits in front of its respective entrance. One doorway boasts two busts, one on each side, representing Ryl and Navor. Given time, they manage to find the temple dedicated to Akanksha. The Temple of Akanksha in Penticon is quite similar to the Temple in Caer Zitheral, standing three stories tall. Inside, the main temple stretches out to fill most of the first two stories, with the private quarters and the temple storage areas farther back. They are greeted at the door by one of the temple's postulants, who warmly embraces Menaria and then Tana in greeting. She's dressed in the flowing silk robes with strategically-placed silk scarves of her station and goddess. "Welcome, sister," she says as she hugs Menaria. Breaking off, she looks at both of them. "We have been awaiting your arrival since a magic pigeon delivered news this morning that you were coming. Please, enter this temple untroubled. We only ask that you accept the goddess into your hearts, and enter unarmed and unarmored." She shifts her attention solely to Tana as she says this last part. "Our ways may seem strange to one of the Desert Kin. Please, accept our hospitality and relieve yourself of the ways of war. We shall store them with care, for you do not need them as long as you are in our home." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- Segev manages to find a place that isn't too run down and offers private rooms with no questions asked; at least, that's what the sign reads. Inside, a gnoll looks up from the desk and looks at him. "Another spell-slinger," she grumbles. "Wizard, by the look of you. How long do you require one of my *humble* rooms?" -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- Kyran's wanderings around the town find him standing outside what appears to be a five story brownstone, carved with intricate details of elven design. On the doors are letters which proclaim it as a wizard's guild, specializing in the creation of magic items. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- Tanda looks at the departing party members, and shrugs. "So, who's up for a beer at this Midnight Mushroom?" she asks whoever's left. (Should be Tanda, Korg, Lannstucht, and Katrina by this point, I think.) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------- Mythology Lesson #9 The Fall of Su'kal and the Creation of the Undead Su'kal is the only daughter of Golma and his ex-wife, the harpy Ricnalis. She generally appears as a very attractive woman of indeterminate race, dressed in black leather outifts that vary with her mood. She claims to be a child of a broken home, as her parents divorced when she was still an infant, but the truth is that Golma and Ricnalis parted on amiable terms. Before her rebellion and subsequent betrayal, she was the guardian of life, as her father had been before he died. In this role, she protected many noble warriors and epic heroes of ancient times from lasting harm, or so she thought. As more and more of her favored fell, she fell into a deep depression. "Never more," she swore, and turned to knowledge that would prolong someone's life. To this end, she sought out more and more knowledge to grant immortality to those she chose. Her cousin Navor refused to hand anyone the secret to immortality, but word reached the black ears of Vy. Vy had discovered much obscure and best-forgotten knowledge. She shared some of this knowledge, through intermediaries, with Su'kal, a little at a time. Vy promised Su'kal that, when the knowledge was complete, she'd be able to grant immortality to anyone she wished. As with all of Vy's knowledge, there was a price. Much of the knowledge Vy offered came with a price, and that price--that of a blood sacrifice--ran contrary to Su'kal's beliefs. For years, Su'kal struggled with the dilemma: would she be able to kill, so that her chosen heroes could live forever? Vy was not content to wait on the sidelines for Su'kal to respond to her price; after all, as a goddess of life, Su'kal was a challenge for the Corruptor. Each message she sent Vy was enchanted in such a way as to instill new thoughts into Su'kal's mind and taint her soul, a little at a time. At last, as her latest champion died to a debilitating poison, Su'kal decided that she could not let her father claim his soul. She spirited away his body, with the soul still inside, before Golma even realized what was going on. She fled to the lands of the underworld--hidden away from the ever-watchful eyes of both Pelor and Ynnada, under the Barrier Mountains at the edge of the Vast Expanse--and performed the ritual intended to grant everlasting life to one whose natural life had come to an end. With her blood sacrifice, she forever turned her back on the tenets of a goddess of life. In that instant, as her ritual dagger killed her mortal sacrifice, she became a goddess of death. What happened next, it is said, sealed her fate. Some say her sacrifice was human, others say it was that of a giant, and others say that the sacrifice was that of an elf, during the War of the Elves. Taking her sacrifices's blood, she poured it down the throat of her deceased champion while chanting the ritual designed to release him from the chains of life and death. When he awoke, he had been transformed into a vampire, the undead creatures that feed on the blood of the living. This is the first recorded case of undead being created. In that instant, as she willingly brought unholy beings neither living nor dead into the world, she became the goddess of the undead. As with all deific falls, the changes took centuries, but were overlooked until the actual deed was done. Su'kal's whole demeanor changed, and she joined Hextor's growing dark pantheon, forever turning her back on life. Today, Su'kal preaches that the way to immortal life is through the creation of the undead, and to become a lich is to be immortal. She is worshipped and revered by those who seek to create undead, via both arcane and divine means, as well as by those seeking protection against the undead. A word of warning to the latter, though: Su'kal is a fickle goddess, and her demands are often punctuated by the reality of both lesser and greater undead enforcers. He who prays to Su'kal for deliverance from undead may find himself becoming undead instead.