In an alchemist’s shop within the City of Aracho of the Timiro Kingdom, I sit in a plush chair staring at you. The chair has an exquisite, hand-carved, stained wood frame with lion heads on the arm rests. It looks comfortable, but not too comfortable. A perfect blend of extravagance and practicality, something to be comfortable in without inviting sloth, a chair to work in and still promote productivity. My hair has a series of twisted braids that pull back into a tail at the back. One could only imagine the time it would take to braid such an elaborate style, but the look keeps my hair neatly controlled, no hair in my face and my pointed Elven ears unobstructed.
“Greetings and well met, stranger. I am Almay Rentar, and it is your great honor to meet my acquaintanceship. So,” I lift my cup from its saucer and take a sip. My porcelain tea cup has intricate golden flowers with hints of sparkles in the paint. “I understand that you would like to know more about your tattoo.” My eyes shift to your left arm. “Yes, very interesting, and one would indeed be correct to presume I am knowledgeable to offer some insight” I set the cup back onto its saucer.
“The mark is magical, but not of the symbols and circles in such ways that I or others of my ilk dabble. In our work we invoke ancient symbols and channel words of power, but this …” I give a subtle head shake. “The source of this magic comes from something else, perhaps even divine in nature. The design is fashioned similar in appearance, but its symbols are to me but a mockery of our true art, perhaps though they are meant as a homage. The stylized bull is of particular interest.”
“Two possibilities come to mind. The first …” I purse my lips. “Nay, the first shall not be first. I do believe we will need to circle back around to that. The second, yes, the second, thought that percolates the mind is the Cult of Vidarr. Vidarr, you see, is the Northern God of Strength, half-brother to both Hocknar and Locknar. The bull is a symbol of strength and vengeance, and cult has had many branches with many unique symbols. Yes, this could be one of theirs. If your tattoo is linked to Vidarr, than you have sworn an oath vengeance on a specific individual, and did so in the name of Vidarr with a Priest of the North bearing watch and confirming the oath.”
“This mark of vengeance empowers you when faced against your chosen foe and, to a lesser extent, to their allies. On the downside, the mark will kill you if you have not claimed your vengeance by the allotted time. These moon symbols, they likely indicate a particular date and time. With the help of a Priest of the North, I should be able to tell you exactly how long you have.”
I take a deep breath and stand. With my hands behind my back I gracefully walk across the room to a stand. After a moment a light, flowery aroma fills the air. I take a deep breath and turn back towards you, wisps of smoke rise up from the incense behind me. “The other possibility …” I close my eyes and take another breath. “I once read of a Western secret society, one that has not been spoken of for a long time. Longer than I’ve been alive. Those who don’t knew no better and inquired into their affairs would …” A give a small flick of my wrist. “…vanish.”
I walk over to my chair again, but I don’t sit. I pick up my cup of tea and take another sip. As I turn towards you again you can see my eyes glazed over. “Did you know, that some people view knowledge as ignorance. ‘The more you think you know, the less you truly know.’ Knowledge is important, but it can be confining. You start to think you know everything. Your mind is full, and you become closed to new ideas. There is so much more out there. The young mind is blank and capable of infinite learning. Because it knows nothing, it takes in knowledge freely and can understand things the rest of us never will. At least, that is what some would believe.”
“If we were to follow this mentality, the full moon would represent a closed mind, a novice one might say. Meanwhile a new moon, open and empty, is capable of vast knowledge and the highest state one can hope to obtain.” I take another deep breath. “Opening one’s mind. This secret society are specially trained assassin mages, with alleged temples in both the Yin-Sloth Jungles and the Baalgor Wastelands. They had a signature weapon, a triangular throwing knife with poisoned tips, the Adder’s Sting they were called. Once thrown Adder’s Sting could dance in the sky of their own volition.”
I close my eyes. “No. No. Nothing but a legend lost to history, I assure you.” I open my eyes again and stare directly into yours. “You understand, don’t you? I am telling you I do not believe. I am over 400 years old. Too old to not know that following this path would only lead to no good, and too young to be so reckless with my remaining years and inquire further. I will not follow this path, and if you decide to investigate further I hope you will leave me out of it. You do understand, don’t you?”
So thank you Hotrod and Prysus for a little surprise sent to vek directly.
Remember to surprise your players every now and again, its usually a lot of fun and keeps them engaged.
