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| Coelho Sunfall | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 21 2013, 04:14 AM (281 Views) | |
| Luthe | Jun 21 2013, 04:14 AM Post #1 |
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The Nice And Accurate Recordings Of Coelho Sunfall - Researcher I cannot chronicle every journey - some locals are inhospitable enough that I escape with nary a thing but my own fragile life. The fae tree of the deep forests where lives the hateful dragon Ozmond is one such instance I escaped with barely even that. However, it is with optimism that I begin this journal on my expedition to the isle of Azzeth. While this is not my first documentary, I will include my name and defining features for future identification purposes, should I not personally be able to present my findings. Author: Coelho Sunfall......................... Race: Ghinaari/Human.......................... Age: Forty Four and One-Half Years...... Year/Day: 199/56............................... Description: I am dark of skin, burned by the desert sun, and silver of hair, bleached by magic. My bangs are long - shoulder length all around. I am thin of build, like many of my people, but my jaw is strong due to my human heritage. I have green eyes, a thin nose, and a perpetual frown. I am a well-studied sort, not well suited to physical combat, but masterful in the arcane arts. Attire: I fancy a good suit, but tend towards the darker red and black robes to protect me from sunlight and the heat of day. This too, no less, fits the motif of a wizard, and is the wardrobe that I have chosen for this journey. History: I was born to the Ghekis tribe to my elvish father Liisandre and human mother Sophia. I was raised until my eighteenth year among the dunes. I am immune to the curse of my people and, unlike my ancestors, able to visit and leave the desert at my will. My human blood has liberated me from a life in the wastelands - this was my mother's only grace. Bizham the Imp: He is, of course, small. No bigger than two feet tall, in fact. Green of skin, with darker patches around the lips, elbow joints, eyes, and such darker to a charcoal black. His ears stand away from his head and are pointed, elongated to the extreme like an elf who's ears have grown rampantly. Bizham is thin with twiggy arms and legs. His teeth are sharp. He has a long, pointed nose. He wears a small black suit jacket, made for a child. There is a darkiron ring around his neck, signifying his pact with me. Journal Entry 1 / Day 1 I board the ship today, and set out for the isle of Azzeth off the coast of Bodwen Province. Twenty years hence, terrible creatures have been sighted wandering the once deserted island. They are clawed, and fanged, and are all manner of shapes and sizes. Some have wings to fly, but never venture to the mainland. Many are black, scaled, and eat the flesh of adventurers who go there. They are animalistic in their tendencies, but survivors say that they do communicate with each other, speaking a frightening guttural language. We call these monsters "demons". I have read in recent publications by a professor of spirit magic from Tempus that demons can be bound to a master, and the secret of this binding is in the demon's own name. There is one other legend that speaks of the power of names in binding rituals, and it is a legend of my own people. The evil djinn, revered and loathed by the Ghinaari tribes, are said to be controlled in part by a ritual involving the utterance of their name. In this age, the knowledge of their names have been lost. I wonder if these creatures are somehow connected to the djinn. If I can learn of the djinn's magic, it will not only offer me a way to greater power but also, until now beyond hope, a cure for the curse upon my people. The volcano on the south shore has been active year-round, and for two decades since the emergence of the demon horde. I am not sure what this means for the magic latent in the area. I know very little of what I'll find when I arrive. Journal Entry 2 / Day 10 The cabin hostess is a wonderful cook, and a delight with her stories after meal times. I'm sure that they're all fabrications, dreamed up to entertain guests aboard the ship. Still, one could never claim that she isn't keen at her job. I appreciate this as a paying customer, of course. The cruise (and detour) to Azzeth was did not come cheaply. The hostess is human. Her skin is tanned, and I find her oddly attractive. Journal Entry 3 / Day 18 I've been seasick twice, and contracted the scurvy once. The supply of fruit, fresh or no, is low. I've never been one to seek out fruit, but I find myself pining for the sweet taste of a golden speckled pear, tart to the tongue and juicy. Near twenty days aboard this vessel. We're nearing Bodwen Province now, having departed from Tempus, so it shouldn't be much longer before the course is set to Azzeth itself. Journal Entry 4 / Day 28 I arrived four days ago with my two hired hands, Premo and Charmigne. We set camp on the first day, scouted for fresh water, and laid a perimeter of sage sprigs to ward off evil spirits. If demons are anything like undead (stars pray they are), then the sage will be a deterrent. We have protection from the unusually harsh winds that whip across the island in the form of large, jagged rocks, between which we've set our tents. The design is modest. We've built close to the shore, since our exploration has shown that the demon activity seems to grow as we near the island's center. We have so far been witness to large, hulking, humanoid demons, wielding vicious bladed metal weapons, packs of hound-like creatures, too far off and stealthy to document well, imp-like creatures with long ears and pointed noses that chitter and chatter. They stand up to my knee, and sometimes carry metal daggers. From where some of these demons acquired their tools, I do not know. At this time, we have found no sources of fresh water. We are having to collect sea water and evaporate it. No signs of edibles or natural animals, either. Journal Entry 5 / Day 32 Both Premo and Charmigne are now dead. They were stolen in the night by monsters that growled like dogs, moved through the darkness like cats, and devoured not only the flesh, but also the magic essence of my two companions. I've named them 'Mage Hunters' because of this unusual and defining trait. They typically appear in packs of three or more. They do not appear to smell the food when I cook, but are particularly attracted to objects with intense magical auras. Why they haven't devoured me, I cannot say. I keep myself hidden at camp, and sleep in the hollow of an old felled ashwood tree, burnt and blackened by fire spreading off a nearby lava flow. Perhaps it is the ashwood keeping them away. Journal Entry 6 / Day 35 I have taken a special interest in the imps, since they appear to be the most social. Indeed, they appear to have their own language, and now and then I catch one shouting words that sound discernible as the common tongue. They have taken to throwing small objects at me, so I assume that whatever society they do have is a primitive one. I did witness one conjure a small ball of flame, and toss it into another's back side for fun. If the djinn are in fact demons, and the all powerful masterminds and sorcerers that the Ghinaari texts claim, then the Azzeth imps are just children playing with stones. There is very little power in them to compare to the legends of the djinn. Journal Entry 7 / Day 36 Demons do seem to share the djinni trait where there is power inherent in their names. They all must, of course, be magically and physically overcome. But knowing the creature's name makes them vulnerable to one's advances, and allows one to command them at will once initial freedom is wrestled away. This became apparent when I witnessed a particularly large, muscular, and horrific demon speak in common tongue to an imp. He commanded it to do his bidding. The imp, startled but sure, retorted with his own command, and spoke the greater demon's name. The greater demon, almost as if by magic, dropped to a massive knee and obeyed the tiny imp. It was a sight. Journal Entry 8 / Day 41 Imps are a haphazard sort. They are highly vocal, highly excitable, and prone to fits of malcontent. They are also endlessly curious about my business here on the isle. One such creature recently befriended me. After a week of my prodding and promises, he has finally revealed to me his name. A mistake, to be sure. He is now bound to me, and he is my servant. An imp's resistances to a greater will are very weak. Interestingly, when a demon becomes bound to a master, both inherit a physical symbol of the bond. For me, this appeared as a dark iron ring on my middle finger, and a matching ring around the imp's throat. Journal Entry 9 / Day 43 I feel no pity, though the imp begs to be released from our contract, and no remorse for manipulating him. There is hardly wrong in removing what equates to a louse from this sick animal of a place. The island won't miss him, and the beast doesn't complain as he eats my food. I am resolved that he just enjoys complaining. Journal Entry 10 / Day 45 Something terrible has happened and I am fearful for what I have done. The imp just smiles triumphantly. My muse has left me. I will write anon. Journal Entry 11 / Day 48 It is the third day since the misfortune befell me. A blackness has spread from my lips to my face and neck, likely an infection from the tainted pool water. The imp convinced me that drinking from the Azzeth pools would give me the knowledge I seek. He claimed them to be the wellfonts of magic for all demon kind, and I would be blessed with demon sight and voice. He bade me to partake, and under my service he could not lie. If only I foresaw the hidden deception in his words. The pools were not the wisdom of demons. They were corrupted, and full of bile and filth. I was sick after drinking. The discoloration in my is worrisome, but I feel ordinary so far. Journal Entry 12 / Day 50 I've noticed that I can understand some of the mutterings of the demons that venture close to my camp, and that I can feel their presence. Some have imposing auras. Others look massive, but are mostly dull hulking material bound together by a lesser demonic essence. I wonder that I am becoming a demon. The black of my skin causes no pain - only a minor itch as it spreads. At this rate, I will be changed in a month's time. My will and mind are thus far intact. Journal Entry 13 / Day 55 I have ventured from my camp, less intimidated by the beasts that roam the area. My servant assures me that with him as a guide I will come to no harm. To ensure this, I set a curse upon him to stop his heart should I die. He is a cowardly sort, and I believe him this time. The corruption continues to spread across my body, but aside from an increased sensitivity to the bones in my back, no negative side effects can be attributed to it. Journal Entry 14 / Day 56 In the night, I have sprouted sharp protrusions from my back at the shoulder blades. The imp confirms my suspicions that this is the beginning of wings to come. It is painful, but I am not perturbed. I am finding myself stronger, and faster. If this corruption is so empowering, I may be glad to embrace it. Journal Entry 15 / Day 60 It has been several days, now, and my wings are nearing maturity. I don't know if they will enable me to fly, weighted as I am. The span is just under double my height, I think. I still spend hours a day practicing with them to gather basic motor skills. The imp is company that I continue to appreciate. Even his sarcastic chatter about the nature of demons and my personal transformation have calmed me. I shouldn't be so calm, but there is little that gives me blatant cause for alarm. I came to Azzeth seeking power. This was not what I envisioned, but it is an interesting turn of events, to say the least. Journal Entry 16 / Day 61 My servant has told me of a creature known as a 'Blood Lord'. It is a demon built up of demon blood, and given sovereign mind by binding life essence into it. Because the demon is wholly a construction of the master, no "binding" is necessary. It has a personality likely unrecognizable by the master, though in essence the creature is just a hyper-extension of some small spark of the creator's own whim and will. Because the demon is wholly massive at over nine feet tall and six wide, it often drains the master of blood completely. Some alternate blood source must be found or some greater healing magics must be at work for the summoning of a Blood Lord to ever be possible for me. Journal Entry 17 / Day 64 I have discovered that through mediation I can control the spread of the corruption that has transformed my body. The blackness, the claws, the fangs, and the wings recede into me as if by magic. With enough practice and concentration, I may be able to reverse the demonic alterations on a more permanent basis. My servant is scowling as I write. He is not pleased that I have devised a way to overcome his cruel trick. I am highly amused by this. Journal Entry 18 / Day 68 I have "befriended" a new demon archetype that takes the form of a slender, busty woman. Her demonic origins are obvious from the pointed tail and bat-like wings, but past those features, the creature is incredibly human. My servant tells me that these are called succubi, and that they harvest the life energies of men. They are skilled hypnotists, and can supposedly change their voices at will to best suit alluring their prey. She gave the name Chloe, but I sense no power in this word. There is no change in her when I speak it. She gave it too comfortably. I think that I won't be able to control her with this name, or quite as easily as the imps. The succubus is smart, and ruthless. Journal Entry 19 / Day 71 I decided to take Chloe with me as opposed to ending up her next meal. A deal was struck between us: I take her to the mainland, and she let me live. This was both to my satisfaction and my joy. More the days pass, however, I further regret my decision. We are traveling by sail to the coast of Bodwen, and it has been three days with just she, my servant, and myself on board. Our party is not enthused. Journal Entry 20 / Day 77 My encounter with the lycanthropes that inhabit the dense forests of Bodwen was -less- than stellar. I'm perfectly sure that the lot of them are cynical, hypochondriac, schizophrenic, rage-born animals, living in a constant state of fear. The pack I encountered appeared to be very much interested in my findings on Azzeth, but after a moderate amount of strife, I was allowed to leave. Apparently demon specimens have been washing up on shore. This I'm sure is just a matter of hapless imps and the like being swept out to sea. I don't blame the lycanthropes for their suspicious nature. My time with them was certainly a social experiment, seeing the behavior of a destitute people like my own from the other side. I now head to Alendia, my homeland. Journal Entry 22 / Day 80 My first day on he edge of the Alendian desert. The crunch of black, glassy shale is a crisp reminder that hard times are ahead. There will be no fresh water, no game, and no refuge from the sun for several day while I cross the Black Hills. Bizham and I are both reminded of home, but for differing reasons. I daydream about my father and younger sister, and spicy stew broth, and a comfortable mat on the sand in the shade of a palm. Bizham recalls broken bone bits and burned, black soil. He imagines the smell of sulfur. I can only assume that the comforts he seeks invoke the same happy nostalgia that mine do. Journal Entry 22 / Day 81 It is hot. I am tired. Bizham hides underneath the tarp on the horse's rear all evening. I write to chronicle that we are still alive. The heat has dried up most of my ink. I won't be writing again, soon. Journal Entry 23 / Day 119 After several weeks of travel I have made it across the black hills and to the Sudi Oasis in Alendia. My horse is resting beneath a tree. He is a good animal, and well worth the price I payed for him. Bizham is glad for cool water and the shade of trees. We'll stay here for three days, trade to make coin and gather supplies, then continue north. I require the books in the Tempus library to continue my research, and perhaps the funding of a rich philanthropist interested in demon studies. |
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| Davina | Jul 5 2013, 12:36 AM Post #2 |
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I am both amused and curious to see what he does next, good job! I couldn't find any spelling or grammatical errors and don't you dare grammar nazi my response either. You are complete for now, I want some history, why was his mom not important? How did he grow up, why is he so hell bent on finding out the cure to the curse and all those happy fun things. GIMME MORE! |
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9:12 AM Jul 11