Nyderrasethi's Conversion to Mhaldor

-- Receives a vague letter and considers the authenticity of it before just going for it, what could be the worst that could happen --

You read what is written on an elegant white letter:
Sentinel Raven,

Your presence is requested upon the isle of Shala-Khulia for a mandated patrol to ensure the middling Westerners, which have made recent threats to bring harm upon it, have not done so. Please ensure that this task is completed post haste. Upon completion, send an updated report to the Minister of Security, Greenthorn General Alrena.

Thank you for your dedicated service to Nature.

-- Some running around and then heading to Shala-Khulia for my Patrol Order --

-- Patrolling the area and walk into A refuse pit --

A refuse pit (indoors).
The Golden Dragon Saeva looms here, shrouded. You see a single exit leading out.

Without warning, Cresil leaps from a shadow, slamming you against the wall of the pit, his dirk to your throat.

Cresil carefully wipes all the venoms off of a slender dirk with a polished marble blade.

Cresil pricks you twice in rapid succession with his dirk.
Your insomnia has cleared up.
You feel incredibly tired, and fall asleep immediately.

Cresil quickly binds up your hands and feet, leaving you helpless.

Cresil leaps into the air and launches a flying kick at you.
Cresil connects painfully.
You are jerked awake by the pain.

Cresil says in a sibilant voice, "Wake up, Heathen."

Cleric Saeva Aristata says, "Hold still, heathen. Best not to struggle."

Cresil looks about himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Nyderrasethi shakes off the quick attack, his head spinning a little.

You blink.

You growl menacingly.

Cresil says in a sibilant voice, "A fitting ambush, don't you think?"

You say in a strong confident voice, "You won't hold me long."

Cresil gestures quietly to the refuse scattered about the room.

A refuse pit (indoors).
Thick stone walls surround this pentagon shaped room, each of the five walls are splattered with the blood, filth and refuse of what has occurred at the altar above. A stone circle dominates the floor of the room, and rims a deep pit filled with the rotting remains of sacrifice. Skeletons of creatures long gone and human bones, many of the remains still fresh, are only at the surface of the pile. The only entrance and exit available is a stone archway built into the wall, rimmed with overgrown vines and decorated with the bones of some of the rarer creatures that were offered to the gods above.  The Golden Dragon Saeva looms here, shrouded.
You see a single exit leading out.

Cresil smirks.

Cresil ceases to wield a Shield of Absorption in his left hand.
Cresil ceases to wield a slender dirk with a polished marble blade in his right hand.
Cresil starts to wield a Lupine bow in his hands.

Your left foot explodes in white hot pain as an arrow slams into it.

Saeva continues to obstruct the exit to the out while planting a heavy, clawed hand upon your shoulder.

Nyderrasethi yelps a moment, eyes fixing in hatred upon Cresil.

The arrow through your foot finally comes free, allowing you to move normally once again.

Cresil says in a sibilant voice, "You're not going anywhere, heathen."

Saeva applies pressure to your shoulder, a claw digging into your flesh.

Nyderrasethi struggles against Saeva's claws trying to bite at her foot.

Cresil quietly twirls his dirk between his fingertips, occasionally gripping the handle firmly.

Saeva backhands you sharply across the face.

Cleric Saeva Aristata says, "Do not put your vile teeth near my flesh."

Cresil says to you in a sibilant voice, "You're part of a much larger plan, heathen."

Cleric Saeva Aristata says to you, "The time has come for you to take a hold of your destiny, slave."

Cresil says to you in a sibilant voice, "The Naga have tracked you for quite some time. You show promise as a serpent, but you are hindered by the filth of your village."

You blink.

Nyderrasethi shakes his head, maybe it's the haze of the room affecting him. His thoughts becoming clouded.

Cresil silently rakes the sharp edge of his dirk along the inside of your arm, slicing him at the forearm.


Silent whispers begin spilling into your ears, the shadows speaking of deception and conspiracy

Nyderrasethi pulls back and struggles once against against the bonds as he is nicked and prodded in torture.

Cresil snaps his fingers in front of you.
You look about yourself, frenzied and wild-eyed.

Saeva's claws dig deeper into your flesh as she whispers soothingly, "You are going nowhere. Calm yourself."

Visions begin swirling, images of Leath'Ri and Viceroy conspiring for war

Cresil says in a sibilant voice, "Your weakness is your own form of shackle."

Cresil says in a sibilant voice, "Hindering you from growth."

Cresil says in a sibilant voice, "Nature is weak and fickle, bending to the will of man for centuries past."

Nyderrasethi has his mind flood with emotions, rage, torment, agony, and distrust. Recent events surging through his mind, making associations seem clouded, mistrust building for those he once called friends. You can see his eye sheen changing from defiance to one of contempt as he is unsure of his feelings.

General Rangor appears suddenly, silently shaking his head in sadness at you.

An ominous feeling descends upon you as Saeva turns her gaze upon you.
A sudden sense of panic overtakes you as the draconic curse manifests, afflicting you with paralysis.

Tower First Floor: Butterfly Room (indoors).
Carved oak cabinets line the tall walls of this room. Set in the centre of this room is a magnificent altar, covered in a sheet of golden silks. Atop the altar rests a silver feather with gilt edges. Remains of frankincense and myrrh waft in the air from large censers dangling from thick brass chains set in the ceiling.  The Golden Dragon Saeva looms here, shrouded.
You see a single exit leading out.

Whispers of Strength and Truth begin to replace those of conspiracy, a feeling of warmth pervading you senses.

Saeva begins to quietly speak out the Seven Truths, nearly inaudibly.

Nyderrasethi struggles against his bonds once more, head hunched down as he claws at his eyes. Unable to process or filter through what is happening. His will breaking slowly, he cricks his neck back in a snapping motion you almost feel as if he has broken his own neck with the sudden jerk. Agonizing screams silently escaping his mouth.

Cresil quickly removes the arrows from your foot, the quick motion sending blood scattering around the gathered refuse.

Nyderrasethi whimpers pathetically.

Cresil begins to undulate and hiss, his form dancing in a hypnotic trance in front of you.

Nyderrasethi sobs slowly fade as his will slips away from him and he enters a silent state. Eyes lost of emotion and willpower, blankly staring up at the two of you. Ripe for the picking.

Cresil whispers to you in a sibilant voice, "The Truths will cradle you in a new life."

Cresil whispers to you in a sibilant voice, "Service to the Master and His holy city will see the weakness purged from this land, and you will be at His feet one day soon."

Cresil whispers to you in a sibilant voice, "When the time is right, and you see me next, you will cast aside your ties by bringing swift deaths to the heathens you once called friends."

A damp, sanguine fog begins to fill the pit and begins to writhe itself about you.

Nyderrasethi slowly nods his head as his mind is flooded with suggestions and illusions, playing tricks on his thoughts.

Images of Lord Sartan over burning forests invades your mind, practically forcing a wicked grin across your features.

Cresil whispers to you in a sibilant voice, "Witness the Strength of His followers."

Nyderrasethi grins and licks his fangs in anticipation. Eyes burning with hatred and contempt, anger focused upon the task at hand.

Saeva's large eyes narrow upon you.

Cresil seals the hypnotic trance, whispering a hidden trigger to the state before waving a calm hand in front of your face.

Cresil snaps his fingers in front of you, sealing the thoughts deep inside and allowing his previous demeanor to return.

Cresil ceases to wield a Lupine bow.
Cresil begins to wield a slender dirk with a polished marble blade in his right hand.
Cresil pricks you twice in rapid succession with his dirk.
You feel incredibly tired, and fall asleep immediately.
You feel yourself calm down as the kola nut wears off.

Saeva nods her head at Cresil.

-- Saeva and Cresil Depart --

You walk through an endless, moonlit forest. Tendrils of green reach out to stroke your arms as you pass each tree, and you feel a sudden, intense connection to every living thing. An owl hoots a friendly greeting and you turn your head to watch as it swoops gracefully past. With a start, you realise the forest has gone, leaving you alone upon a barren wasteland.
You open your eyes and stretch languidly, feeling deliciously well-rested.



A refuse pit (indoors).
Thick stone walls surround this pentagon shaped room, each of the five walls are splattered with the blood, filth and refuse of what has occurred at the altar above. A stone circle dominates the floor of the room, and rims a deep pit filled with the rotting remains of sacrifice. Skeletons of creatures long gone and human bones, many of the remains still fresh, are only at the surface of the pile. The only entrance and exit available is a stone archway built into the wall, rimmed with overgrown vines and decorated with the bones of some of the rarer creatures that were offered to the gods above.
You see a single exit leading out.

Nyderrasethi shakes his head, blinking drowsily. Stumbling to his feet. He begins the slow plod back to Eleusis, dull and lifeless eyes staring at the floor.

-- Walk back to Eleusis and wanders away from everyone --


Sheltered vantage.
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. Deep green ivy winds its way through the diamond-shaped wooden trellises, the closeness almost imposing as the sturdy branch walkway thins and narrows. The pointed leaves provide comfortable flooring, as the pervasive growth snakes down the latticework and around the nearby branches. Tiny lanterns, in the shape of bluebells, illuminate the darkened area in soft azure tones. Twinkling gently underneath the gloomy canopy, the luminescence exuded by these minuscule lamps shift in intensity with the changing levels of natural light. A runic totem is planted solidly in the ground. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. A sense of balmy languor blankets the area surrounding a large shrine to Valnurana, composed of four statues supporting a dome of softly sparkling crystal. There are 3 kola nuts in a group here.  A large barracks is here providing the city's forces with rest and refuge.
You see exits leading west and northwest.

-- Almost a day goes by, feeling detached he avoids contact with others. Ravien is slain by Hasar, he makes no effort to intervene or help --

Cresil is pulled back into phase with reality!
Cresil begins to wield a Shield of Absorption in his left hand.

With a snap of his fingers, Cresil sends your mind into a frenzy. The whirling thoughts of service to Lord Sartan return in a flurry, concreting themselves amongst your thoughts. The overwhelming urge to repent overcomes you, the Seven Truths beginning to run rapidly in your mind. "Your life is forfeit to the Master of Evil now, heathen." - "Serve well, or perish."

Cresil puts on a pair of eagle's wings.
Cresil says in a sibilant voice, "Duanathara."

You close your eyes momentarily and extend the range of your vision, seeking out the presence of Melodie.
Though too far away to accurately perceive details, you see that Melodie is in the Aerinewild.

A cascading waterfall.
A smattering of clouds fills the sky, lacing it with spiderwebs of grey. A mighty earth golem stands guard here. A large beehive hangs down from the trees above. A limestone statue of a crouching warrior woman with her palms flat on the ground is here, set before a stunted yew tree that has been split by a bolt of lightning. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground.  Melodie Le'Murzen, Ephebe of Neraeos is here. She wields a thalassic quarterstaff in both hands.
You see a single exit leading south.

Melodie flashes you a joyous smile.

Melodie gives you a peck on the cheek.

Nyderrasethi licks his lips as he looks you over. His fingers fumbling with his Thoth's fang. Sizing you up, you immediately suspect this is not a normal visit.

You prick Melodie twice in rapid succession with your dirk.

You prick Melodie twice in rapid succession with your dirk.

Melodie blinks.

You prepare yourself to hypnotise your victim, Melodie.

Melodie squints suspiciously at you.

You draw Melodie out of her hypnotic daze, your suggestions indelibly printed on her mind.

You snap your fingers in front of Melodie.

You utter a deep, rumbling laugh.

Melodie says to you with a flowing, cultured accent, "Very funny, haha."

You say in a strong confident voice, "Weak one."
Melodie frowns at you.

You say in a strong confident voice, "You are small and fragile, just like the rest of the heathens in Eleusis."

Melodie blinks once, and then stares more intensely at you.

Nyderrasethi eyes burn with a hatred and contempt you have never seen before. His actions seem crazed and erratic.

Melodie says to you with a flowing, cultured accent, "Nyderr, stop. Stop this now, before you can't go back."

Nyderrasethi begins reciting to you the Seven Truths as you stand helpless to protest.

You prick Melodie twice in rapid succession with your dirk.
Melodie's eyes close suddenly as she falls asleep.

You raise your broadsword over your head and begin to swing it in a wide circle, gaining speed as you go.

You begin to bear down on Melodie, preparing to destroy her.

A surge of elation rushes through you as you realise that Melodie's fate is sealed. With a roar of triumph, you whip your broadsword at Melodie's neck, slicing her head from her shoulders in a veritable fountain of dark red blood.
You have slain Melodie.

Azuros tells you, "Wha?"

You slip away to the southwest and successfully evade your pursuers.
A verdant clearing laden with cherry blossoms.
A smattering of clouds fills the sky, lacing it with spiderwebs of grey. A rune resembling a horse has been sketched into the ground here. Petals falling from its flowering branches, a cherry blossom tree thrives here. A runic totem is planted solidly in the ground. There is a walnut hiding among the leaves littering the ground.  You may ENTER the WILDERNESS map from here.
You see exits leading northeast, east, and south.

You slip away to the south and successfully evade your pursuers.
Base of the Eleusian Gatehouse.
A smattering of clouds fills the sky, lacing it with spiderwebs of grey. A pike with the decapitated head of Enfrin, the woodcutter of Thera has been erected. A runic totem is planted solidly in the ground. A large oak tree stands here, a silent reminder of a legend. An ornately carved cairn stone dominates the area. A magnificent sign has been placed carefully in the ground here, bearing a proclamation. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Elias the Gatekeeper is here, standing watch. A Briar Knight casts a cool gaze over the village. There are 2 woodland rangers here. With silent vigil, a gnarled treekin roots to the ground. Suffused with the power of Nature, a veiled dryad lingers in the shadows. Like a mountain against the wind, a storm bull is standing here, motionless. A jarrah bench is here.

Atop the Eleusian Gatehouse.
A smattering of clouds fills the sky, lacing it with spiderwebs of grey. A runic totem is planted solidly in the ground. There are 2 tall bronze floor braziers here. Pristine no longer, an ivory scroll lies here. A furry little humgii sits here, a hungry expression in his wide eyes. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Mounted atop a woodland bear, a forest archer keenly scans the sprawling canopy. There are 4 earthen elementalists here. A limestone statue of a crouching warrior woman with her palms flat on the ground is here, set before a stunted yew tree that has been split by a bolt of lightning. Snorting softly, a roan shire lingers in graceful repose. There are 8 delicate clay cups here. There are 6 delicate clay cups with orange black spice tea here. There are 5 delicate clay cups with chamomile tea here. There are 5 delicate clay cups with plum spice tea here. There are 4 delicate clay cups with birch-bark tea here. There are 5 delicate clay cups with cranberry tea here. A pretty woven basket with a white bow sits here. A stout, handleless tea cup sits on the ground. Antlers of jet black crown the head of a proud ivory peryton. Looking ready for anything, a hulking war elephant stands here. Calmly standing nearby is a white charger in pristine armour. An armoured silver and brown eagle searches the area with piercing eyes. A delicate clay cup rests here on a matching blue saucer. Nestled into the ground is a small chunk of potash crystal. Standing still as a statue, a blood steed has fixed its fiery red eyes on some movement in the distance. Wings ablaze with the colours of autumn, a stunning falcon is perched here. A cockatiel perches here, preening her feathers. A crimson paradise bird perches nearby. A playful budgie perches nearby, preening his feathers. A tiny, red-handed tamarin sits warily, her eyes wide. Crouched low upon spindly legs, a black tarantula rests here. Like a furry silver rock, a short-tailed chinchilla huddles here. A tiny gazelle prances playfully around, long legs tangling together. A timberwolf pauses here, gazing dispassionately with atramentous eyes. Spreading its majestic golden wings, a giant eagle searches the ground with piercing eyes. A jarrah bench is here. Druid Athelas is here. He wields a wyvern-etched druidic quarterstaff in both hands. Sentinel Cub Mirania is here. Her face is partially concealed beneath a raised hood. She wields a kite shield in her left hand and a hunter's spear in her right. Sentinel Guardian Rom Corten is riding on a timberwolf. He wields a woodland throwing axe in his left hand and a Shield of Absorption in his right. Druidess Yae Dawyn is here. She wields a wyvern-etched druidic quarterstaff in both hands. Miss Kiah S. Corso is here. Sentinel Raven Mako is here. The Red Dragon Grondson's imposing form looms. Eleusian Armourer Amanu Nailo is here. He wields an ornate steel rapier in each hand. Sentinel Raven, Valaria Jaydde is here.

You yell, "Hail Sartan the Malevolent, Hail the Seven Truths, Death to all Heathens!"

You growl menacingly.

Fond thoughts of your homeland, Eleusis, fill your head as you leave it, ready to embark on new adventures elsewhere.

You formally quit the Sentinels of Nature.

You slip away to the down and successfully evade your pursuers.
Before two towering mountains (road).
A noxious, red-hued fog overwhelms the area with a thick, palpable vapour. Everything about you is obscured by a heavy fog. A rune shaped like a butterfly has been sketched into the ground here. A rune like an open eye has been sketched into the ground here. An occupied iron gibbet, suspended from a wooden gallows, creaks ominously in the breeze. A decaying corpse has been impaled here upon a fifteen foot stake. A runic totem is planted solidly in the ground. An obsidian eye sigil is here. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground.
You see exits leading north, southwest, and up.

Cresil nods his head emphatically.

You drop to one knee before Cresil.

Cresil nods his head at you.

Cresil says in a sibilant voice, "Well done, heathen."

The Dragon Ruth thunders in from the south.

Cresil says to Ruth in a sibilant voice, "Greetings Tyrannus."

You drop to one knee before Ruth.

Cresil says to Ruth in a sibilant voice, "This heathen has had his mind warped and molded to serve the Lord of Evil."

Ravien has formally declared you an enemy of the City of Eleusis.

Ruth squints at the location before the Gates of Mhaldor, before sinking her claws into the ground below and leaning forward.

The Dragon melts away from Ruth, leaving her a Rajamala once again.

A large handaxe comes flying into the room, arcs toward you, and carries you away with it to Rom!
Treacherous mountain path (road).
A noxious, red-hued fog overwhelms the area with a thick, palpable vapour. A timberwolf pauses here, gazing dispassionately with atramentous eyes.  Sentinel Guardian Rom Corten is riding on a timberwolf. He wields a woodland throwing axe in his left hand and a Shield of Absorption in his right.
You see exits leading east and down.

-- Rom trying to kill me for a while (He succeds later when I get lost and don't know where I am!) --

Ruth beckons you to her.
You begin to follow Ruth.
Ruth beckons Cresil to her.

You give the decapitated head of Melodie to Ruth.

Ruth has formally declared that you are no longer an enemy of the City of Mhaldor.

You follow Ruth north to The gates of Mhaldor.

Nyderrasethi (male Mhun).
He is 302 years old, having been born on the 17th of Ero, 361 years after the fall of the Seleucarian Empire.
He is ranked 91st in Achaea.
He is an extremely credible character.
He is not known for acts of infamy.
He is considered to be approximately equal to your might.
He is a mentor and able to take on proteges.
His warcry: 'Out of stuff to give.'
See HONOURS DEEDS NYDERRASETHI to view his 12 special honours.

Black marble arcade (indoors).
The vault of this chamber is crafted from deeply stained oak with stone springers on either side. A fine series of oak bosses, carved with figures of grotesque heads, mutated animals, and living foliage are contained here. To the east, an elaborate row of wall arcading in slick black marble borders one side of the descending, wrought-iron staircase, attesting to the consummate skill of the architects responsible for the cathedral's awe-inspiring design. A stone coffin, carved with interlacing circles upon its surface, is set into a solemn alcove on the far wall. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. A runic totem is planted solidly in the ground.  Tyrannus Ruth I'llur, Sartai Navarch is here.
You see a single exit leading down.
Ruth raises the decapitated head of Melodie aloft, examining the edges of the head carefully. Tossing it into the air, she tilts her head and glances in your direction.

Cresil nods his head at Ruth.

The red fog of Mhaldor seethes within the black marble arcade, threatening to engulf and choke the individuals standing within the Cathedral. It seems to have a life of its own as it thickens in response to the presence of Nyderrasethi.

Ainia has formally declared you an enemy of the Sylvanic Fellowship.

Cresil says to you in a sibilant voice, "Heathen. Do you renounce your ties with the village, condemning them all to the purgatorial flames that the Master of Seven Truths will bathe them in His right?"

You say in a strong confident voice, "I do swear upon my life and honor."

You say in a strong confident voice, "I renounce all ties."

Guttural songs of unholy worship waft and wind throughout Mhaldor as the daemonic chorus rehearses in the cathedral.

Cresil says in a sibilant voice, "Then repeat His oath of service, and serve as you are expected. - I hereby pledge myself to the Lord of Evil in my eternal service to Mhaldor. My blades to purge the weak, my body to protect our land, my mind to spread the teachings of our Master, and my soul to serve Him in death."

Cresil begins to wield a branding iron in his left hand.

Tendrils of red fog slither from its enigmatic mass, swirling about Nyderrasethi, testing, teasing, probing and discerning the heathen's conviction. The crackle of a whip sounds as the voices of a church choir rises into audibility.

You say in a strong confident voice, "I hereby pledge myself to the Lord of Evil in my eternal service to Mhaldor. My blades to purge the weak, my body to protect our land, my mind to spread the teachings of our Master, and my soul to serve Him in death."

Cresil says in a sibilant voice, "Kneel and present your arm, heathen."

You drop to one knee.

Cresil drives the tip of the branding iron deep into your arm, the smell of burning flesh filling the air as the hot metal rod sizzles against your cool skin.

Within the mass of red fog comes a vision of the village of Eleusis. Their gates have fallen, the shrine to Gaia in splinters on the ground. Rubble has reduce the gatehouse of the village into nothing more than earth and blood. The vision expands now, showing you the widespread extermination and withering of the forests.

Ruth says in a quiet, contemplative voice, "Yell your oath for the city to hear, Nyderrasethi. Yell it and mean it from the bottom of your heart."

You yell, "I hereby pledge myself to the Lord of Evil in my eternal service to Mhaldor. My blades to purge the weak, my body to protect our land, my mind to spread the teachings of our Master, and my soul to serve Him in death."

"Reach above the natural man, above the constraints of mortal induced values, morals and binds. Refine the mind, body and spirit, cast off the strings of mortalhood and rise above!"

Cresil says to you in a sibilant voice, "You will be reborn as a Slave to His will. You will be a pawn to His glory and carry His Truths with you as destruction will follow."

The voices of the daemonic choir end in shrill screams, cut short by the sharp snap of a whip.

Ruth asks you to repeat the oaths of citizenship after her. You do, and you are admitted as the newest, proudest member of Mhaldor!