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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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How would /tg/ feel about some story time?

After the fall of Shivan De`Harren, and after Chaos basically ended our game, Tyranis became the hero we deserved and took up Hitsito's torch.

Also you'll get to meet Daies again, because making us loose the game wasn't bad enough, and his vengeance spiraled into a darker madness.

Pic obtained with the Leadership feat.
Bump for interest.
Story time!?

Do you even need to ask?
Please tell OP.
I'm interested.
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>we have liftoff


We set the stage in the aftermath of the apocalypse brought on by Chaos.

With Shivan De`Harren razed, there was no more refuge for the people of D`nesathia. Neighboring dimensions were sacked and destroyed by Chaos, and all of their people were infected and possessed by its evil. Entire worlds were lost, and communications went silent across the planes. It was unknown how many realms, if any, survived. The people whom did were outcasts and nomads, they became known as the Nephilim.

Far away, upon a world yet untouched by the Chaos entity, dwelled a human named Tyranis. He was a very successful businessman, and rose from his humble beginnings to dominate a market of trade and goods transportation. He possessed a veritable monopoly, and became simultaneously the praise of the civilized world as well as its curse.

Only the nobility and guilds possessed the infrastructure to ignore Tyranis influence, but in time he would become instrumental to their salvation. Little did Tyranis know at the time, but the Nephilim had arrived; bringing all of their war and pestilence to the world known as Terra.

The first one he met was named Dowjin.

It started innocently enough, a drow in a dark cloak had asked for the most mundane of things; transportation. Dowjin didn’t look like much, after all. Perhaps he had an unhealthy amount of belts strapping his robes closed, and there was simply no reason for a single man to carry two greatswords, but even so Tyranis took comfort in the secret “ace” up his own sleeve.

>picture of Tyranis is w.i.p. for now. Think of a tall broadchested "privateer" with a greatcoat.

Tyranis vast air-galleon was unloading its cargo of lumber near the mills and factories of Jacksville in the south. As a result he had a surplus of space in the cargo holds for Dowjin’s guild of followers. They seemed to be a bunch of religious nuts, preaching about end times and the arrival of Chaos, so Tyranis paid them no heed. They were allowed to venture anywhere within the decks as long as they stayed away from the restricted areas.

For all the talking the cultists did, however, their leader was strangely silent and always gazing into the heavens.

Their destination was the port district of Garretsburg, capitol of the country of Lord Sveth Garret. The cultists departed into the streets, but Dowjin remained, so Tyranis asked him why.

“Haven’t you ever, wanted to be a part of something bigger?” Dowjin replied.

“I am something bigger; this isn’t the only plane I do business on.” Tyranis replied.

“But do you have the power, to protect the ones you love?”

“That’s a pretty stupid question. Of course I do. My men at arms are without number, and know no fatigue. Now if you don’t have another job for me, I need you off my ship so I can get going.”

“I said the same thing, once. Maybe you’ll have better luck... I need to go to a place called Redrock; do you know where it is?”

Tyranis nodded. “Yeah, I can take you there, that’s one of the Emberlight Trade Consortium’s main trading outposts, but I’m losing a lot of money each hour I’m running without a contract to haul.”

“I’ll cover it.” Dowjin offers.

“No, I don’t think you understand, I’m talking a hundred thousand gold pieces an hour, this is a national busine-“

“Yeah, and I said I’d cover it... So will you take me?” Dowjin looks Tyranis in the eyes, and try as the human might to fathom the drow’s motive, his expression remained blank, almost melancholic.

“Hell, do one damnfool errand might as well do ‘em all.” Tyranis huffs. “Alright, boys, get her ready to go, we got places to be!” And so the captain bellowed to his crew.
Their trip once again was uneventful, and though Tyranis invited Dowjin in to dine that evening, his guest didn’t say much. He hardly picked at his food either. Finally Tyranis pried.

“So where you from?” Tyranis began.

“Out west in the isles.”

“You mean the caves that all collapsed? I heard it was pretty bad.”

“Only the pirate lords really missed the Drow, the rest of the land rejoiced. One less stronghold of my type.”

“It’s a shame to see anyone suffer like that, especially such good paying customers.”

“You think so? Well, I’m glad someone cares.” Dowjin smirks.

“So why didn’t you stay and rebuild, like the rest?”

“Someone called to me in my dreams, I don’t know who... But that’s who we’re going to pick up.”
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“Chasing after dreams seems foolish.” Tyranis says judgmentally

“Well... When you stop to think about it, that’s all we ever do.”

Confounded by the drow’s strange answers, Tyranis lets silence take over the rest of their voyage. Dowjin didn’t seem to ask very much about Tyranis’ own past, and that was good. But the captain was a little miffed that the guest whom he’d treated hadn’t even been vaguely interested.

When they arrived at Redrock the lookout gave a yell. All of the ship hands attended their stations with promptness and zeal. As they drew closer Tyranis discovered the reason for the lookout’s call.

The city of Redrock was lying in ruins. Its smoldering buildings still smoked. People were gasping and a few concerned crew started babbling wildly about family members who were in the area.

Tyranis, on the other hand, was absolutely seething. It would cost a fortune to rebuild all of the machinations and recast all the spells that made this entire town worthwhile. Not to mention the profit loss during the down time of rebuilding the structures, and hiring new townsfolk.

“Homes?! Y’aint even gonner have a pot to piss in if I see a one of ya not down there this minute! Clear the rubble and make preparations, I want this done today or I swear I’ll strap the lot of ya!” Tyranis drawled in the accent of the free men of the Pirate Isles.

Tyranis ordered the ship down, and told everyone to look for survivors. He saw Dowjin leave with them, and tried to yell out to ask him where he was going, before losing sight of him.

It wasn’t until well after noon that Dowjin returned, carrying a woman in his arms. She seemed to be unconscious, and she had two large batlike wings. Tyranis was sure he also saw a tail on her. He didn’t move to stop Dowjin, but asked him as he came.

“Who’s your guest, lad?”

“Sidanis, she will lead us to our enemy.” Dowjin replied.

“Enemy? What enemy? I don’t have an enemy!” Tyranis exclaims, as all of his own had been crossed off the ledger a long time ago.

“You do now. The Betrayer walks this world, and he has called all of us here by name. He has called all of us to finish what he started. You will see his agents, before you see the end of the week.”

“That’s a crock, maybe all yer brainwashed followers take stock in old wives tales, but I’m a man of business, and our business is done. I’m dropping the both of you off at Garretsburg and I don’t want to see you again.”

Tyranis had a hard time sleeping that night. He was no stranger to stress, and he’d accepted the fact that he had skeletons in his closet. Rather, it was the ominous news his guest had given him.

Eventually they arrived at Garretsburg, and the gangplanks were lowered onto the docks where all the ships harbored, seabound or otherwise. Crates were being unloaded, but they weren’t filled with trade goods like usual. Instead they were the remnants of the people of Redrock. The constabulary was there to accept the shipment, and lead Tyranis' first mate across the bustling plaza to an administration building.

Flags were flying everywhere, in the gold and purple scorpion of Lord Garret’s heraldry. It was a sunny day, not a cloud in the sky. But the mood was soured by news of their cargo, and the drow who was coming up from below decks.

Sidanis was walking on her own now, and fitted nicely within leather breeches and a white blouse. She seemed to be in a conversation with Dowjin, and the drow was handing her a slip of parchment.
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Tyranis began to walk down the gangplank and onto the docks proper, when he saw somebody ahead of him shove one of his crewmen aside. The man was wearing a blue cloak, but it fluttered open in the commotion to reveal crisp white linen garb beneath. The man’s boots were thin, and his steps were fast, unnaturally fast as he sprinted up the gangplank.

The stranger pulled back his right arm, and his white sleeve rose, revealing the steel plates of a vicious gauntlet covered in runes. Tyranis had just enough time to realize that his assailant was human, before getting punched in the face.
His body jerked down, and the side of his head screamed with pain. Below him the knee of his enemy rose, knocking him in the forehead and sending his staggering body reeling upright once again. Tyranis realized that the left fist of his opponent was also armored in a gauntlet, as it slammed into his stomach, making him almost retch.

The sharpened knuckles of the offending gauntlet had ripped Tyranis flesh, leaking into creases in the artifice. “HYAAA!” The assassin bellowed, his mighty right fist drawing back for the final blow that would end Tyranis’ life.
But Tyranis yelled in as much pain and rage, and yanked off the glove on his left hand, allowing the dweomers containing his blessed arm to unravel. From within a magical space, his golem arm expanded, shredding through the fabric of his sleeve and greatcoat. The adamantium limb was covered in runes which ignite into a green fire, and Tyranis could see the shock in his assailant’s face to realize that the golem arm dwarfed him.

The assassin back flipped away from the ponderous sweep of the captain’s golem arm, nimbly taking an extra step back away from the subsequent rush of an uppercut chasing him. In a frantic gesture Tyranis’ assailant dropped his martial arts stance and yanked at a bag at his hip, stuffing one of his bloody gauntlets into it right arm and all. He cinched it shut and cried out a command word, and in a burst of yellow motes and spatter of blood the assassin’s gauntlet vanishes along with the bag and the arm it was attached to, no evidence left behind save for the psychotic gaze of the enigmatic assassin.

Tyranis hammered into his enemy’s chest with the massive balled fist of his golem arm, and turned that side of his body towards that man of martial arts. The monk in question turned his face away with a grimace, shielding his battered chest with his left arm. But the unyielding strength of Tyranis continued to rail on his assailant with a brutal series of slams, striking the monk’s shoulder with the knife of his hand and then slamming his fist down on the man’s back.
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The stalwart monk rebounded from the nearly pulverizing blow which smashed him into the gangplank. Cracks and splinters popped beneath their melee as the walkway threatened to give. Leaping away from Tyranis, the monk uses his good hand to draw a handful of small ceramic spheres from under his clothes. But whatever the devices did, Tyranis didn’t give the man a chance to show him.

The fight was over in a matter of seconds, and the pitiful groan of Tyranis’ would be assassin murmured by his feet. The monk was struggling to get up, blinking as the last moments replayed before him in a blur of memory, only recalling that the captain was unnaturally fast, and had grabbed him like a soiled rug and beat him out against the street. Dazed and broken, with a battered body upon the verge of death, the monk wondered in awe and terror over what had just happened.

Crew from the ship rush over and cast a couple spells on the monk, after which he fainted. Tyranis coughed, and wiped his bloody lips, feeling a little dizzy, but thankfully alive. One of his crewman came with a small chest and rummaged inside of it to deliver a potion, which Tyranis gulped greedily.

Sidanis, whom was watching, had covered her mouth with her hand, surprised by the sudden attack. Dowjin, on the other hand just stared blankly at the scene, glancing over to the monk as he was dragged below decks, before glancing back at Tyranis.

“When you figure out that the person who sent him, and the person I seek, are one in the same, come and find me in Gillian’s Pub.” And so Dowjin and Sidanis departed.
Tyranis stomped downstairs into the hold, and into the brig where the monk was being kept. He interrogated the man, and first got his name, Julian.

Upon the monk’s clothing was an embroidered patch which appeared like a red dagger over a black circle.

The interrogations softened once Tyranis had his hands on that heraldry, now his enemies would play into his hand. So the captain offered Julian a rare honor. He was prepared to pardon the assassin, as ludicrous as it sounded, and all Julian had to do was defeat him in a fair duel.

“Whats the catch?” spoke the monk.

“If I win, you renounce your old masters and serve me, for ye’ll owe me yer life twice! And you’ll be able to witness why I’m greater than any of them.”

Julian only asked that Tyranis use the same attack as before against him. They agreed, and moved to a spacious room below decks.

After Tyranis showed Julian how time could stand still, the assassin had lost another duel, though thankfully for him it wasn’t to the death. Tyranis had overwhelmed him with a dervish of bludgeoning attacks, though this time they bruised and subdued his enemy, instead of smiting him.

In the end Julian accepted his fate and divulged information about his old master, to his new one. The name Tyranis wanted was Daies, leader of the Crimson Blade. According to Julian: Tyranis, and other powerful figures had been marked for assassination, in order to prevent anyone from allying together under strong leadership, and to throw the nations into strife and confusion. Where they could not be defeated, they were to be cursed with blood magic.
Later in the day Tyranis visited Gillian’s Pub. It was filled with people wearing the symbol of Dowjin’s cult in one way or another, on clothes or on skin. The mark was a blue background with a silver dragon flying over it. There was the music of a troupe of bards, and the scent of some sweet smoke. The interior was decorated lavishly, and the women were clad scantily; even some of the men.

A suspicious gathering of such comely ladies seemed to lounge upon cushions and on or before the leather booth where Dowjin and Sidanis reclined, however the drow seemed to prefer the company of his wine bottle, more than the females around him. Tyranis frowned as he approached.

“I had a talk with the guy that punched me. His weapons were pretty high class magic...” Tyranis states.

“I would expect so. He’s got the resources to take us out, which makes you a pretty lucky survivor.” Dowjin replies.
“Lucky nothing, this Daies guy doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. Now you said you know where he is! I want to know, now.”

“Before you get ahead of yourself, you’re going to need special tools in order to kill special monsters. Take me to your factories.” Dowjin answers.

Into the mountains in the east they traveled, passengers within Tyranis’ ship. And finally they came to a great blackened fortress.

They set down within lanes marked out by pillars and gantries. A fleet of ramps and cranes were vigilant to attend any craft which entered.

Tyranis took Dowjin on a short tour of the facility, and finally it seemed like the drow was paying attention. It was the first time the captain had seen motivation upon his guest’s face.

They were greeted by a golem in the upper halls however, and he delivered grim news. Apparently no one had been working the forges for the past few days, and the assembly hall had been dismissed because of a scourge of terrible creatures.
“Let me show you how we get things done around here. My men lack for nothing, least of all magical gear. Name it, and it is yours! Come now, and we’ll equip ourselves to exterminate these pests.” Came the offer of Tyranis.

Dowjin followed him, and they were taken into a small armory. Tyranus began stuffing rings onto his fingers, and he handed Dowjin a couple. He slipped on a red shirt of chainmail, and also handed one to Dowjin. With his arms soon full of magical items, Dowjin asked quizzically.

“What do we need all of this for?”

“Why, to swim in lava, of course!” Tyranis answered with booming laughter.

Dowjin blinked, and then looked down at the items. Finally, he put them on.

Tyranis then brought them into the gargantuan crafting halls. Screaming little creatures bounded over tables, throwing tools and boxes into the walls and into each other. Everything they touched burst into fire.

Dowjin heaved both of his swords off his back, supernatural strength bearing each greatsword in one hand. No mortal man could wield weapons like that, but even Tyranis wasn’t impressed.

Rather, Tyranis adjusted one of his gloves, and a scroll of magic popped into existence within it. With a snap of his fingers one of the imps he gestured to burst into icy fragments. That seemed to garner the attention of the pack, and they shrieked as they charged.

Casual steps back were taken, and with every snap of his fingers, one, two, three, and another fell to Tyranis’ magic. Just as it seemed that the creatures were about to reach him, a wave of his hands summoned a frigid wall of arctic wind, snap freezing the little demons. Their bodies shattered as they hit the tables and floor.
Tyranis walked over to the main magma forge, and waved Dowjin over.

“Our wards are strong. The lava won’t hurt us.” Spoke the captain.

“What do you expect to find down there?” Dowjin asked.

“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.” Answered Tyranis, and then he heaved himself into the pool with gusto.

Dowjin walked over to the edge, pinched his nose, and then also jumped in.

The tube which fed the pool with fresh magma descended for hundreds of yards. After swimming it, Tyranis became aware that it expanded into a vast chamber which shouldn’t be there; the solid structure of the sub-levels of the fortress should have interrupted their descent.

The fact that they were swimming downwards made it a huge surprise when their heads burst up from the surface, and they were staring into a lavishly decorated waiting room of some esoteric noble.

Utterly confused, Dowjin dragged himself out of the mess first, and started to pat and wipe off his hissing clothes. Tyranis grumbled about something not being right. The door ahead of them leading out of the room suddenly slammed shut as if someone had been watching from beyond. Knowing the person responsible for raiding Tyranis’ forge was nearby, Dowjin stepped down into the floor, literally melding into the shadows, regaining his physical body on the other side of the door as he exited the shadow beyond.

Someone was running, a man with incredible dark skin and white linen clothes decorated with gold and gems.

Dowjin frowned and teleported across the room to cut him off, drawing his greatswords and slamming them down into the marbled floor.

Tyranis came crashing through the door in hot pursuit, sundering it into pieces with a smack of his massive golem arm. Like a charging silverback he bore down on their prey, and the man in question barely had time to gasp and cry before Tyranis had seized him into his mighty hand and then slammed his body down into the ground.

“Who is Lord here?!” Tyranis demanded.

Dowjin sheathed his blades and turned around; walking towards the main hall’s door. They were now standing before the main entrance. Wondering what was outside, and where they had gone, Dowjin goes to take a look.

“He’s a djinn, and his Master’s name is Ashibal. That doesn’t really make sense to me... We must be in an outpost deep inside of Terra.” Tyranis explains to Dowjin.

“No... I don’t think we’re on Terra anymore.” The drow replies, holding the door open.

Beyond were ashen skies, with black soot pouring into the heavens from volcanic spouts and the chimneys of a massive fortress. Beyond that veil, scalding suns blasted the vast metropolis with a withering heat. Where the city stopped, endless seas of magma began, churning and exploding in violent fountains.

“Oh no... A noble, from the kingdom of djinn... This is bad. There’s no way we can take his entire honor guard in under a minute. We have to leave. NOW.” Tyranis exclaims.

“But he’s not even here. And why does it have to be a minute?” Dowjin counters.

“NOW!” Tyranis insists, hastening his steps towards the front door and pushing Dowjin through. Behind them a loud boom echoed the arrival of more Djinn, each teleporting in to the mansion of their master. Bars begin to warp and wish themselves into existence over doors and windows, sealing the estate with magical barriers. In the streets which Tyranis lead Dowjin, the fey creatures paused to stare at the aliens fleeing out amongst them. Some pointed, and began to follow.

“Oh crap oh crap oh crap...” Tyranis begins to panic.

Dowjin glances back at the Djinn following them.

“You got a plan?” The drow asks.

“YES. We need to get to the nearest planar gate and jump home!”

“Okay, I can teleport us both to such a place, calm down and maybe we can sense one.” Dowjin replies.
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>pop quiz, name a spell in DnD which explodes if you fail to dispel it.

“You don’t get it! I have an entire legion of mages which crafted spells and contingencies expressly to make sure I could never be captured alive by the demiurge lords of outer planes. This entire place is about to be flattened, and me with it!”

“What?! That’s insane! Why would you- That’s- STUPID! Is that where all your money goes, into killing random bystanders who inconvenience you?! Is this what you hire so many archmage wizards for?!“ Dowjin stammers.

“There’s no time to explain! I do sense an exit, six miles due east! TAKE US!” Tyranis commands.

Dowjin touched Tyranis’ shoulder and in an instant they vanished, to now stand before a shimmering portal of translucent energy. It was suspended in the air, like a tear in the very fabric of space. On the ground runes were scribbled, and were evidence of the portal’s original creator, dating back so many thousands of years.

They were in an ancient dimension, one which they were not welcome in, and where no mortal had set foot in generations. One which an ambitious college of mages was about to destroy without a second thought.

There were flashes and pops in the sky, and canisters of magically charged scrolls came peppering down upon the city. Their detonators ignited, and the raw eldritch power of an entire battalion of mages scoured the metropolis clean of life in one synchronized flash.
It was the beginning of a series of events which would force Tyranis and Dowjin to work together. At first there was hatred and disgust for one another’s methods, but they had no choice.

They had to work together, or else they would die.

Eventually this bore fruit, which eventually lead to camaraderie and over the coming months a budding friendship would grow; just like the warband which they needed in order to repel the other Nephilim, and stop Chaos.

>The Reunion

It was during that time, when Dowjin and Tyranis dispatched their many agents to try and find Daies. The vampire in question was very illusive, and no matter how quickly they responded to thwart his many schemes, they always left a wake of innocent bodies.

Their clue came in the form of an abandoned castle, which was purchased from the state by a wealthy merchant lord whom nobody had ever heard before. What’s more was that all heirs to the noble’s castle mysteriously died all within the three weeks prior to the sale.
They assembled the lance commanders to brief them, and prepped Tyranis’ warships for battle. As was usual in their many plans to raid a stronghold of Daies’, Dowjin was the bait and Tyranis the leader of the vanguard. He was to enter and confirm the existence of the enemy, and then deliver the signal for everyone to attack.

On the northern edge of King’s Forest, which was to the east of Garretsburg and spanned a hundred miles as it stretched across the land, laid the castle in question.

Its ramparts thrust over the hills, and dominated the clear cut plains that had been milled around it. As Dowjin approached, alone, a chilly breeze whipped at the standard he carried with him. He held it with both hands and though the stave weighed only a few pounds, its burden grew with each step he brought it before the front gates of his enemy. Perhaps they wouldn’t be able to divine its purpose.

He wasn’t sure what he expected. Perhaps he’d be slain where he stood, and maybe that was enough closure for his tortured soul. Perhaps Daies himself would come out to meet him and they would finish the duel they started in Shivan De`Harren. Instead the gates opened, as simply as if expecting a visitor, and Dowjin was allowed to enter.

All of the soldiers Dowjin saw as he passed were Crimson Blade. Daies had not only annihilated their old enemy, but also assimilated them into his own fighting force. He said he’d wanted to own them, control them, and force them to live or die for him. So he did, and their victory was complete.

There were a lot of memories that poured into Dowjin’s mind. But foremost among them was the regret that after being so close to vanquishing Chaos, it had all fallen apart.

There was a chance that She was still out there, somewhere. He held on to the hope that their divine realm had resurrected her. He had sacrificed so much of his essence making that final wish. Maybe...

Anger returned, smoldering inside of him, driving him towards one singular purpose. He had to destroy Daies, completely and utterly.

A steward waved him into the main hall, and then silently lead him. He could tell she was nervous. Perhaps they expected him to come down upon their castle with all the fire of an avenging angel.

The steward guided him into the inner halls, and finally through an open door into a small lounge.

A reclining chair across from him swiveled to turn slowly, and Dowjin set his banner down on the table before him, reaching his hands up for the hilts of his swords. His red eyes narrowed, watching the figure in the chair before him, and then his expression slacked. He was stunned to see his arch enemy.

Daies was a shell of his former glory. He was a withered and aged man, thin and frail. His skin was wrinkled and scarred in so many places. His appearance was still elegant, in the way of vampires, yet his face had matured into something elder.

“I have been waiting for you Dowjin, for a very long time. I suppose you were expecting to see me in my demon armor?”
“No. The only thing I expected to see was a dead man. Whatever you’ve gone through on this World, I relish the thought that it made you as miserable as possible. It ends here and now, Daies.”

“But aren’t you in the least bit curious what’s happened in the past five hundred years? Your new body can’t be more than two hundred old, nor do I think those new eyes have seen Destamona.”

Dowjin knew he could signal the attack to commence, yet he hesitated.

“Then tell me, where is she now?”

“Here, waiting for you. You see I am the one who reincarnated you both. I brought you back to life, and waited for you to grow up, all these years.” Daies answered.

“Your lying, Stefan set the contingencies to bring us back to life! Besides, why would you do such a thing?” Dowjin demanded to know.

“That’s only partially true. And I did it, my dear friend... So I could ask you now, for forgiveness.”
“Your insane! I’ll never forgive you! You’re a monster, a traitor, a killer!” Dowjin yelled.

“Weren’t you the same? Yet I have prepared everything up to now so that I can defeat Chaos when he arrives. Unlike you, I have discovered the way to control it. Won’t you join me, to finish our quest?”

“No. Deceit and murder are all you know; it would be beyond stupid for anyone to ever trust you. I feel pity for your followers, who now have to die, for throwing their lot in with a creature like you. I have new companions now, and none of us shall suffer the undead.”

Dowjin reached for the banner on the table, which could magically signal the raid to commence. But he never got to touch it. Instead he was lifted off the ground by a powerful telekinetic wave, ripples of energy thundering through his bones as he was compressed against the wall behind him, and pinned to it like a sprawled fly.
“Then I have wasted all of my years. Destamona is the secret to controlling Chaos now, and I will let you watch as I do it. You will witness my victory, and regret your words. Then, when I am done with you, you will die.” Daies states coldly.

Dowjin’s mind screams under Daies’ psychic assault, and then he blacked out.

When Dowjin came to he realized he’d been stripped of all of his gear, weapons, and magical items. He was startlingly naked, and the cold stone floor of a dungeon scraped roughly against his skin. Looking around he saw bars before him, the bars of a cell.

Beside him was Destamona, whom was also startlingly naked. She was chained to the wall behind him, and hung limply. She was apparently unconscious.

The next thing that Dowjin realized was that he couldn’t summon any magic to complete any spells he knew; but he sharpened his focus as soon as he heard the heavy slam of a door from down the hall.

He watched with glaring eyes as Daies strolled into view, strumming a black rod against the jail’s bars.

“There is a special bond, between my sister and me. I can use it to control her, no matter what. Had she the presence of mind, she could have also used it to dominate me. But she came to me willingly, to join forces, and so it is I who hold the master’s reigns.” Daies speaks.
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“Rot in hell. My companions will find us, and destroy you. They are loyal, where you were not.” Dowjin retorts.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you. See, I staged a duel between you and I. Right now your friends are burning my body, and mourning over yours. It is over, and they will be none the wiser until the bittersweet end.”

“Why keep me alive at all? Just end it you sick bastard.”

“But that wouldn’t be any fun at all. Besides which, I could use your help, in breaking my sister.” Daies replied with a grin.

For a countless time their bodies were manipulated and tortured. Dowjin and Destamona were subject to the cruelties of Daies’ dungeon, and forced into humiliation. They were dominated to endure Daies’ depraved plans and rituals. The vampire was very crafty in breaking their wills.

Dowjin’s undying hatred for Daies was the only thing that kept him focused. Again and again he felt his mind slipping. He was tempted to give in to the surrender of his flesh, and Destamona was already begging.
Another day he awoke and he noticed that Destamona wasn’t there. It was a strange day, a silent day, and he immediately took advantage of this time to rest.

He woke again and still Destamona wasn’t there. The halls were empty, and no guards were in sight. Even Daies hadn’t visited him now in over two days. He stayed awake this time, watching and waiting.

Another day passed, and Dowjin was leaned up against the bars, gazing down the blank corridor for hours and hours. He was panicking, curious, and tired.
Finally at some late hour the door beyond slammed open, and Daies walked into the jail. Dowjin noticed that he was staggering, and carrying some antique within his hands. As Daies drew closer, Dowjin could see the blood which had dried over the side of Daies’ face, and the tears in Daies’ fine noble clothes. More terrifying than that, was the pitch black hue of Daies’ eyes.

“Dowjin, you’ve got to help me.”

“Wh...What?” the drow stammered.

“It didn’t go, like I planned it. He set me up! He’s in me now, he’s in my MIND!” Daies yells.
“I told you! You stupid fool!” Dowjin kicks the bars, despair overtaking him, as everything got worse.

“It would have worked! I swear it! Somehow, he knew what I was planning... There isn’t much time. I can’t take this.” Daies unfastened something from his magic gauntlet. “You need to take this pocketwatch and go back in time to stop him!”


“This watch, the other piece of my gauntlet. I keep them separate because together they unlock a power neither of us were ready to handle. You need to use it now. Take it and stop him.”

Daies thrust his hand through the bars, but Dowjin backed away from it. Terrified perhaps, and utterly confused.

“Take it! Take it now! While I can still think straight...” Daies begged.

“No! Stay away from me! We’re all, already dead...” Dowjin sobbed.

“Its not true! We’re not! Telarin is still alive, I know where she is! I swear to you. Please, Dowjin, just take the watch!”
The drow hugged his knees, tightening his grip.

“FINE! If you won’t do anything, then I will!” Daies screamed.

The vampire stuffed his hand into his coat, and withdrew a blessed weapon. Runes marched down its silver inlaid plates, dedicating it to the power of the holy realms and consecrating it to destroy any vampire it wounded. Daies turned the flintlock pistol underneath his own jaw, and pulled the trigger.

In an instant he was dead, as the holy energies smite the vampire’s soul. Extinguishing it in a flash as Daies’ mortal body slumps to the ground.

For a while the only thing Dowjin could hear was his own breathing, then finally he crept forward on his hands and knees, approaching the bars, and the body of Daies which lay beyond. The half-dragon’s breathing quaking with emotion.

He reached between the bars, and grasped Daies’ hand, which still clutched the timepiece he’d offered up. Dowjin pried his fingers loose, and snatched up the pocket watch. There was only one tiny pin set into its side, and with a racing heart he pulled on it.

It started innocently enough, a drow in a dark cloak had asked for the most mundane of things; transportation.

Dowjin didn’t look like much, after all. There was perhaps one strange thing, and that was the company Dowjin kept. He seemed to have a following of cultists which had been indoctrinated into some kind of religious crusade.


for tonight at least
Tyranis continues again in the next chapter, leading to the finale.

Hope you enjoyed the mountain of gaming transcripts.

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