[Next in line were Silvean and Japhrimel:]


Silvean says, "After due consideration, I decided to tell a true story this evening; a story I know to be true because I was a witness to what happened."

Silvean plainly says, "Decades ago, long before I had come to Wehnimer's, I found myself requested and required to assist a Palestra investigation."

Silvean explains, "For those of you unaware, the Palestra are those Faendryl engaged with tracking down uncontrolled demons and rogue sorcerers."

Silvean admits, "My experience with sorcery at this time was limited to books and laboratories."

Silvean says, "Optimistically, someone put me on the assignment to broaden my horizons."

Silvean says, "More realistically, someone considered me a fair writer and thought I would prepare an excellent report of the investigation."

Silvean wryly says, "The Faendryl have made the preparation of such reports into something of an artform and let my personal testimony assure you: we love to see our names in print."

Silvean says, "And so it happened that I was introduced to the Palestra in charge of the investigation and another sorcerer who had been working with her for some time."

Silvean adds, "Let me tell you one more thing. I had never seen a giantess at that time but this Palestra was as close as it gets among the Faendryl, thickly-muscled arms the size of temple columns."

Silvean jokes, "She could have palmed a Dwarf's head."

(Silvean mimes picking up a dwarf.)

Bremerial snickers.

Silvean says, "The sorcerer, by contrast, was at least a foot shorter than me and from a less respectable family. He laughed and joked about everything except the honor of our people and I liked him."

Silvean continues, "We had been asked to look in on a man named Yshryn who was approaching the end of a brief commitment in our asylum for the thaumaturgically unsettled."

Silvean bluntly says, "The bare facts were presented to me: he had been researching new valences, his young daughter had gone missing, and he was convinced some malevolence had been set loose in his home."

Silvean explains, "Others had looked into both the home and the daughter without finding anything and Yshryn had somehow ended up in the asylum after insisting on their incompetence."

Silvean insistently says, "We were to escort Yshryn back from the asylum and thoroughly inspect his home."

Silvean adds, "The Palestra told me our best hope for action would be in providing a bruising to whatever boy the daughter had run off with in the night."

Silvean sighs.

Silvean ominously says, "I had never been in the asylum until that day and it was a place of horrors."

Silvean says, "Neverending screams echoed down its halls and the sounds of violence came from all sides as the staff employed magic and brawn to restrain the chaos."

Silvean disgustedly says, "I saw a man dressed in noble finery smearing his own excrement along the walls in pale imitation of sorcerous circles."

Silvean remorsefully says, "I saw a once beautiful woman unable to move her limbs because she had smashed her own brains out against her cell walls."

Silvean says, "Yshryn was not in such a sorry state and had been given leave to take the air in a garden."

Silvean says, "Yshryn himself was a frail man of several hundred years and a generally quiet if understandably anxious manner. He touched my arm several times to assure me of his sincerity and continually."

Silvean says, "Used my name: Silvean, Silvean."

Silvean says, "Every sentence began so."

Silvean says, "He explained to us that he could feel a malevolence in his home, that he could hear it skittering and scratching along his walls in the night."

Silvean says, "He explained to us that he could feel a malevolence in his home, that he could hear it skittering and scratching along his walls in the night."

Silvean says, "He said that this creature, this walker in the walls, could only be glimpsed for a moment in the angles of the darkest rooms."

Silvean amusedly says, "The Palestra questioned him at length about his daughter, the other sorcerer joked with me about which rooms we would take when it was our time to move into the asylum."

Silvean says, "He provided a tour of the home and showed us the corners, the angles where he thought he had glimpsed the walker in the walls."

Silvean casually says, "We saw nothing more than a few cobwebs."

Silvean says, "It was the plan of the Palestra to extinguish all light in the home and crouch down in the main hallway for the duration of the evening to watch and wait."

Silvean complains, "I had never done anything of this sort before and four hours into the vigil, I thought I might be the one to go quite mad."

Silvean says, "Yshryn himself waited with us and I counted into the hundreds while watching him clench and unclench his trembling hands."

Silvean nervously says, "At two hours past midnight I heard the first noise. A light scratching as if someone were dragging a fingernail along the inside of the walls."

Silvean says, "Yshryn, at this point, was trembling all over and he kept glancing around the corners like an agitated dog."

Silvean says, "Obeying a hand signal from the Palestra, I led him quietly into his study and told him to latch the door."

Silvean says, "I have never been so wrong."

Silvean ominously says, "As soon as I left the study, I saw that the Palestra and the sorcerer were standing and staring into the corner on the far side of the hallway."

Silvean loudly exclaims, "The Palestra removed a vial from her belt and hurled it into the shadows. Containing some manner of light spell, it expoded in white brilliance!"

Silvean says, "Once my eyes had adjusted, I saw that the shadows had gone and noticed that the scratching had stopped as well."

Silvean exclaims, "It was then that I saw Yshryn's daughter just as she lept from the wall nearest to me and tackled the Palestra with animal strength!"

Silvean says, "Her tattered nightgown looked like rotting flesh, her hair was greasy and matted."

Silvean says, "With a shriek like nothing of this world she whipped herself around to face the three of us and I could see that her jaw was completely unhinged, her face a tattered mass of lacerated flesh."

Silvean admits, "I was frozen at the sight of this horror and could not devise any coherent defense. The creature whipped its head backward and spat a glob of black ichor directly toward me."

Silvean says, "On instinct I summoned a barrier of wind. It seized hold of the missile and slung it to the right of me, directly into the face of the other sorcerer."

Silvean says, "Immediately his skin was ripped asunder and I remember thinking a most horrible thought, in this death he almost looked to be grinning."

Silvean says, "It was then that I realized the Palestra was no longer behind me and then that she rentered the hallway from a parlor behind the creature with her axe in the air."

Silvean shouts, "She struck the demon daughter such a below that she was nearly divided in two."

Silvean hopelessly says, "Behind me I heard a wailing scream just as the blow had landed and saw to my everlasting sorrow that Yshryn had reopened the study to witness all that had transpired."

Silvean says, "He ran back into that room and bolted the door once more while I gave chase. This is a great blur to me still."

Silvean says, "Truly alone, I somehow managed to break it in myself while dislocating my shoulder and burst mightily into an empty room. Yshryn was never seen again."

Silvean says, "Over the span of many meetings it was officially determined that he had vaporized himself in his grief but I know better."

Silvean imperiously says, "My experience with sorcery was limited to books and laboratories but if I know anything in all the world, I know summonings."

Silvean says, "I know the charge of the air, the acrid odor. I know that Yshryn was summoned and seized against his will."

Silvean says, "And so, I leave you with this."

Silvean warns, "The next time you are in your bed at night on the edge of sleep and you hear a scratching in the walls."

Silvean warns, "The next time you glance at a corner and the shadows seem to move."

Silvean warns, "Reflect on the story of Yshryn and consider if the demons could summon one of us, why not more."

Speaking to you, Silvean asks, "Why not you?"

Silvean points at you!

You place a hand over your heart.

---

With a somber expression, Japhrimel begins playing a melancholy theme.

Japhrimel's music swells with exceptional depth and power.

Japhrimel wistfully says, "The tale I have for you tonight is one I learned a long, long time ago, when I was but a child myself. This story was told to me by my mother. A horrible woman really, but a good story teller. I will share this part of my childhood with you tonight..."

The quiet strains of Japhrimel's lugubrious melody evoke memories of cloudy autumn days and now-quiet battlegrounds.

Japhrimel wryly says, "Be thankful I do not tell you stories of my mother, for you would be even more frightened."

Japhrimel says, "Possibly this clearing would smell, even more, of soiled garments."

Japhrimel theatrically says, "A long, long time ago.. but not so long ago that many have forgotten or forgiven, the Faendryl were Exiled. I will not go into too much detail, as that is another story, but following the Undead War, my people were no longer welcome amidst the other elves and were cast out. During our exile we traveled to the broken and blasted lands of Rhoska-Tor. Or, to be more specific, to Maelshyve."

Japhrimel solemnly says, "This was where the Undead War ended, in a powerful wash of energies, of necromancy and demonology and powerful unnatural magics. Where a world was saved, friends and enemy defeated, and a horror unleashed to bring peace. It was through here we traveled and lived and made a new home. This story took place after being exiled, but during the sojourn away and into these blasted lands, before New Ta'Faendryl was founded."

Japhrimel solemnly says, "This story is not a world changing story, but more the story of a young Faendryl boy and his family. During the exile there were hardships. There were families broken from the war and since cast out of their homes. Families wandering with no rest in sight, no future's foundation to be laid. A time of hopelessness, despair, and anger.. so much anger."

Caressing the strings of his mandolin softly, Japhrimel draws forth a caliginous countermelody that only adds to the dismal quality of the theme.

Japhrimel sighs.

Japhrimel sorrowfully says, "Amidst all this was one family. A mother, a father, a daughter, and their young boy. This boy, let us call him Faythen, was a wee lad and prone to wandering and exploring. Amidst the exile it was easy for people to wander off, to get lost, and this boy was quite good at going off on his own. Whilst passing one of numerous dead and silenced battlefields this boy did just that, wandering off to see what he could find. And find something he did, a broken old dagger, caught in the grips of some hacked off undead warrior's rotting hand."

Japhrimel adds a soft harmony to his melody, doing little to cheer the somber quality of the ballad.

Japhrimel says, "The boy, entranced, tried to take the dagger, but the hand, though undead and dead a second time, would not release it. In the boys haste to have a weapon of his own, he slipped and cut his hand. The wound bled profusely and, suddenly needing his parents to kiss the wound and make it better, he ran back to them."

Japhrimel allows the harmony to range into the higher tones, giving it the high wail of wind through the branches over the undercurrent of the melody.

Japhrimel says, "After a thorough scolding, the boy's hand was bandaged, kissed, and they continued on their way. The days were long and the nights were cold and the boy's stomach was rumbling."

Japhrimel's stomach growls.

Japhrimel worriedly says, "The boy would complain to his parents and sister that he was hungry and they shared what food they could. But food and resources were scarce and many went hungry, as the boy did."

Japhrimel's stomach growls.

Japhrimel slows the tempo of the ballad, adding a ponderous quality reminiscent of the canticles heard in a temple.

Japhrimel says, "What little food they had they shared amongst themselves. But it was never enough for the boy... he grew thinner and more frail with each passing day, always hungry.. always hungry."

Japhrimel somberly says, "His father, one day, came upon some roots and vegetables in surprising quantity, a rare find in such a blighted land, and the family had their first filling meal of some time.. all of them buy Faythen, that is. With each bite, the choked and coughed, retching at the horrible taste. His father scowled and rebuked him that he would waste food when times were so hard. The boy pretended to eat, but could stomach none of it. He continued to be hungry."

Japhrimel's stomach growls.

Japhrimel drools.

Japhrimel ominously says, "Faythen grew more listless, more needing. He continued walking the sojourn with his family, but his hunger pangs never lessened. His hand throbbed where it was cut, the commingling throbbing and hunger pains distracting him from the endless walking. At least, until he finally smelled something.. something delicious."

With a clear seventh chord, Japhrimel takes his hands from the strings of the mandolin and allows the song to fade into nothing.

Japhrimel sniffs.

Japhrimel raises an eyebrow.

Japhrimel uncomfortably says, "Faythen hurried ahead of his parents and wandered off the trail, following the smell. The delicious aroma, the thing that could sate his hunger, he just knew. Wandering off the path, he found his sister sitting beside a small creek, gathering water. Somewhere near her, the delightful aroma was emanating."

Japhrimel ominously says, "With mindless hunger, Faythen followed his nose, until he found the source. Tackling it, he took it into his mouth and began to eat, filling his belly, sighing happily as the pangs of hunger dulled. He continued to eat and eat, filling his belly."

Japhrimel despairingly says, "His parents, worried at their children wandering off, began to search.. and it did not take them long to find their children. There was Faythen, body withered and frail and now covered in blood. The bandage over his hand having fallen off, the skin below it veined in black and oozling putrescence. And in his lap what little remained of his sister... His mouth covered in blood, Faythen continued to scrape bits of jellied brains from her broken and smashed skull, as he turned to his parents. Still chewing, he smiled happily and informed them he was no longer hungry. And to their horror, did not appear to realize what he had done."

Japhrimel dramatically says, "It was then they realized the truth, that the dagger had been cursed, the wound had festered, and their boy had somehow become one of the walking undead.. lost amidst the walking almost dead."

Japhrimel shudders.

Japhrimel sighs.

Japhrimel seriously says, "And this, my listeners... as my mother always ended the story... is why you must always... always.. eat your vegetables."