Story Kitty'z Ominous Interludez

[katisacat]

Hewwo! Bit of context for dis, kitty runz a dnd game, deh basic premise of deh game iz dat deh player characterz each get a tarot deck dat only haz deh Major Arcana in it. Dese cards are holy symbols to 22 different sentient deities of each of deh cardz, so there iz a god called The Fool. A god called The Hanged Man. A goddess called The Moon, etc... these cards however, when being drawn for guidance or to speak to the god of that particular card, are never drawn upside down or as card readers know it 'reversed' dey always come up upright, and if dey are manually reversed, the image flips back. All of dese deities rules over something in deh material plane, Temperance rules over Kindness, Strength rules over Strength, the Emperor rules over Societal Prosperity, etc...

Deh inevitable challenge deh players must face is dat dere is a man who owns one of dese decks dat haz become evil. He wantz to reverse the Major Arcana. When this happens one card will be reversed each day, and the card that will be reversed will cause the deity to become the evil version of themselves. When the last card, The World, reverses, the world has three days of dying before it goes into the sun and everyone dies. So basically they gotta stop and fix dis before dat happenz.

Backstory aside dis thread iz where kitty will be posting deh Ominous Interludez kitty writez for deh playerz enjoyment. Ominous Interludez are a thing a dm fwiend of mine came up wiv which is basically background knowledge dat deh players know, but dey're characters don't. Enjoy! :3

 

[katisacat]

The figure stood in a dimly lit room, the candles on the wall having long burnt out, the light now only came from the table it stood at. The room was clean, well kept, organized. Looking as though it belonged to someone of great wealth. Busts, books, and priceless heirlooms stacked neatly on shelves and tables. This room contrasted drastically with the figure standing at the table. It was tall, wiry and shrouded in a deep brown and red cloak, all you could see peering out of the cloak, illuminated by the glow on the table, was a squared chin, and a short cut, scraggly, white beard attached to it. Old withered hands moved deftly over the table in intricate, strange patterns until, with a blinding flash, the glowing stopped.

A leathery, bony hand reached out in the darkness, as though unimpeded by the lack of sight, and lifted from the table a card. Longer than a playing card, thicker and stiffer too. This card began to glow to reveal the picture of a woman, her hair arched around her in a rainbow of the seasons and below her it read… 21, The World. A pleased smile grew on the shrouded figure’s face as though hearing something no one else could and it responded in an old, crackling voice, male, and of great age. “Do not worry… I will find your holders soon.” As his gaze fell to the eight stacks on the table.

 

[katisacat]

(Spoiler alert, dis one might make people sad. Deh fun part about Ominous Interludez, iz I can make ones dat pertain to deh players, dis iz one such interlude. Deh female one iz deh player dis one pertains to.)

“Sister… Sister…!” A small voice called out into the abyss of darkness. It’s only response was a weak whimper. This sound told the small boy’s voice all he needed to know. His sister, the one the winds had told him would be the strongest chieftain in their tribe’s history, was dying. From what, his little mind could not know, but what he could know, is that even if she survived their birth, even if she lived, she would not be alive. She would not be able to fulfill her destiny. The tiny voice cried into the darkness, though he could shed no tears. “Don’t take her. Let my sister live… What can I do to save her?”

There was no sound for a few moments, only the soft gurgling and pulsating that had surrounded them since their consciousness. And then, in a place with no wind, the wind whispered to the small voice, whispered of chance, and risk, life, and peril. The voice listened intently to the wind, knowing it had never steered him wrong before. It told him all he needed to know, that he could save his sister, and even stay with her as he does, but the risks remained unseen, never before had this been done, but it was plausible. The voice felt for his sister, not with a hand, but with the warm, sensing touch of his spirit, the quickly cooling spirit of his sister edged closer to the boy for comfort. She was growing too weak.

The voice solidified its resolve, led by the wind, and his love for his sister, his spirit left his mostly formed body, it wrapped around his sister’s, giving it the only hug he will ever be able to give her, before submerging himself into it. A warmth spread through the girl’s body, energy, love, life, these things filled her as her strength and vitality were returned… no, not returned, were gifted to her. Her brother’s strength was now her’s, and her body now his. They were together now, for as long as they remained on this earth.

Two months passed and a Khyrgari woman gave birth to two babes, the first one to come out did not cry, when his eyes were opened, they were blue, but they were dull, greyish, and lifeless. The second to come out was strong and healthy, larger than average for a newborn babe. They also didn’t cry, instead, they came out, arms wrapped around nothing, in a warm hug, a soft smile on the intersex child’s face, one eye green, the other eye blue.

 

[katisacat]

The figure walked down the quiet streets, his red and brown cloak fluttered around him in a dry breeze across the cracked desert ground. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, the city just beginning to stir. Shutters were opened, doorways were swept, and a few people began walking the streets to go about their day. The figure smiled under his cloak at their lack of awareness as he veered into an alleyway. And, with a simple spell to knock on a young elf woman’s door back the way he had come, his mission was complete. The cards had been delivered. He has traveled many miles to get the cards to their owners. A dwarf in the mountains to the north, a halfling in the port city south of there, a human in the fishing city to the east, a wandering half-elf in the plains just south of there, a gnome farmer in the plains to the south, a half orc off by the cliff-face to the west, and an elf in the desert city. The 8th deck would be gifted to the figure’s grandson, who would soon be 15, a man.

The figure coughed hard into his old withered hand in the alleyway, a bit of blood spittle left in his palm. He couldn’t stop now. He had to see his grandson once more… had to gift him his destiny. And so, as the morning light began to creep over the building into the alleyway, he was gone, with nothing but a tarot deck on a doorstep to show he’d ever been.

 

[katisacat]

(Hey... remember dat character who's brother's soul joined in her body in deh womb? Well... that kinda opened a gateway for OTHER souls to take up refuge in her body. Deh player character is a barbarian and instead of having regular Players Handbook rages, she has 4 rages where she becomes different people, even her stats change, as one of the four other souls take over, one of the souls is her brother... and dis iz another soul, nicknamed, the laughing demon.)


How long have I been here…? How much longer are they going to hurt me… Just because I’m a little different… The young girl heard the door open to her dark, cold cell and looked up. Pitch black hair partially concealing her red eyes. She never understood why she looked so different from the other human children in her home village, but it wasn’t her fault! She didn’t choose to look like this, it’s just the way she was…

What would concern her captors even more if they knew, was that this little 10 year old girl’s mind was not entirely her own. The voice, Flower, as she liked to be called, was not a nice flower. She sometimes whispered to the little girl, telling her to do awful things to people, to tear them apart and gnaw on their bones, to let go of her hesitations and be free… this voice was not her.

Beyond the door stood one of the guards to her cell. “Time to go to your ‘interrogation’ for the day freak.” He said in a gruff and insensitive voice. The girl looked down and slowly climbed off of the stone table she’d been calling a bed for the past few months. How much longer could she take these ‘interrogations.’ How much longer would it be before they let her go? They won’t let you go, not unless you make them. If you rip off their limbs they can’t stop you from leaving… The voice whispered in her head with a sick giddiness to it at what it was suggesting. But this voice was not her… though it did make a good point.

The young girl was led down the dark, stone hallway after her arms were chained together, her bare feet thudding on the cold stone ground as she was led to the chamber where they always hurt her. They said at first it was because she wouldn’t tell them what they wanted to know, but she didn’t know what they wanted to know. Then they said they’d get the answers themselves, whether she cooperated or not. That’s when they started cutting into her, hurting her, testing her limits, the young girls scrawny, pale skinned body was riddled with pink scars. I say we give them a taste of their own medicine, make sure they never hurt me again. The young girl blinked at the first person response in her head. But… this voice was not her… was it?

The heavy door slid shut to the chamber with all the tools. One bright lantern lit over head so the men could see their handywork. The young girl, with tears in her eyes, was strapped down to the table to prepare for the day’s torture. Screams and cries were heard down the hallways from this chamber as they cut into her, tested different reactions, and injected her with strange liquids. It was agonizing, it was unbearable. I can’t take it anymore! The young girl screamed in her head before she passed out from the pain.

“Did we finally kill her?” One of the torturers in the room asked with mild disappointment. Another one walked up to her and tested for a pulse. “Seems so Doc.” He said and began unbinding the body from the table to be sent for final testing and to be disposed of.

… ba-dump … ba-dump… While the ‘doctor’ was busy untying the last of the girl’s restraints, he didn’t notice the eyes slowly open, now a bright yellow instead of the bloody red. As her last arm was unbound the arm suddenly shot forward and grabbed the torturer by the throat, the girl was now sitting up, her eyes a piercing yellow and her hair a stark white. She tilted her head curiously as she stared at the quickly bluing face of the torturer struggling in her grip. Then a wicked, pleased smile appeared on the once quiet girl’s lips. “How does it feel to hurt?” She asked in a dangerously sweet, childlike voice. She then stood up on the table, now dangling the man off the ground as he was quickly losing air, the other men in the room all staring in shock and horror. “I think it’s time you ALL took part in an… ‘interrogation’.” She then suddenly smashed the man’s head down into the stone table with such force that blood, skull, and brain matter flew across the area. Dropping the now unrecognizable body to the ground, the girl turned to the rest of them.

“W-Who… WHAT are you!?” One asked in terror. The girl tilted her head and smiled in a sickly sweet way. “I am Daisy, and I am Flower, she is me, and I am her, her voice is mine and we are one. And we. I. Want to see you… hurt.”

Screams echoed the halls of that ancient laboratory, only one person made it out that day. A little, ten year old girl, humming and skipping down the street, with the head of a man, held by the hair, swinging in her hand like a dolly.

 

[katisacat]

(Dis one iz a bit of backstory into an NPC dat haz been traveling wiv deh party and iz one of deh original card owners. She's an elf so she lives for FREAKING EVER! But yeah, dis interlude mainly points out somefin about deh horse mentioned at deh end. Deh playerz would notice that that horse haz deh same name and appearance as deh horse deh npc currently own, over 200 years later.)

Francin looked down at the 5 year old elf in her arms, the elf that was now her responsibility. This young one’s mother, her sister, had dropped her off and left, she intended to sail across the ocean to find meaning in life as she called it. As the young adult elf, only 160 years old as of last week, looked down at the infant who looked so much like her sister, except for that hair, that small patch of pitch black hair was definitely her father’s, she realized her sister had it all wrong. She wouldn’t find the meaning of life out there in the world, living for herself… it was right here, in her sister’s arms.

The little elf girl opened her shining silver eyes and looked up at the woman holding her, reaching her arms up, trying to grasp at the woman’s bright silver hair. Francin smiled and spoke gently to the tiny elf. “Welcome home, Eriel.” The little elf looked up at her with wide eyes then smiled brightly with a happy little giggle.

90 years would pass like a heartbeat, before Francin’s very eyes Eriel was growing to be a strong, but better yet, kind woman. She has long discovered her abilities as a sorceress, yet for the past 30 years had forsworn using them. “Why?” Francin would ask. “You have the best mages available to help you learn to utilize your abilities.”

“Because.” Eriel replied. “Magic is unfair, I don’t want to be able to harm others before they even get the chance to know. Magic is only good for tipping the odds in your favor when you’re challenging others… I just want peace.”

Despite Francin’s protests and persuasions, young Eriel had no desire to pursue her magical capabilities. On her 110th birthday Eriel did what Francin had been dreading for little over a century. She left. Not for the seeking of adventure, but for a mundane life of being a Tavern girl in Pulchritudo where ‘Magic isn’t the priority, people and culture is.’

Francin stood in Eriel’s room as she packed her bags. “You don’t have to go you know…”

Eriel sighed as she finished putting the last of her clothes in her satchel. “I feel I do… I don’t know why but… it’s not just about the magic Aunty.” She turned and smiled at her sadly. “I need to make my own life. As more than just the niece of the up and coming Druid of Mediocris Silvam. I just want to be Eriel.”

Francin looked at her, tears in her eyes as she bit her lip to keep from crying. She had never realized just how stifling being her niece had been for Eriel, all the pressure to be a mage, all the indirect formalities, all the looks, all the whispers… it must have been so hard for Eriel to feel at home when she wasn’t seen as her own capable, beautiful young woman. She forced a smile and nodded. “Very well, but… let me give you one thing…” She led her outside and handed over a horse to her, a beautiful dark brown shire horse with white markings, strong but with gentle eyes. “This is Gretchen, she’s requested to accompany you, through whatever life throws at you, through however long you need her.” She gave a smile that seemed to know more than she was saying, Eriel however knew better than to question so she smiled and stroked the horse’s flank. “Nice to meet you Gretchen.” She then attached her bags to saddle and climbed up. “Bye Aunty Francin.”

“Goodbye Eriel, I love you dear. Keep in touch.” Francin said and waved goodbye as Eriel rode off.

 

[katisacat]

(Dis Interlude pertains to a different PC, Deh only thing that iz really of interest iz dat deh speaker and her husband have deh same last name as him (deh player'z character iz from a very prestigious and tight laced family.) OH! And they know deh guy named Albus iz dere current enemy. (But he'z human... and it'z been well over 100 years since dis happened.))




Lilee sighed as she sat at yet another gathering with her husband Grailben at this strange elf’s house in this pitiful little startup of a city she was brought to live in. She wished they would quiet down at least as she was getting a headache from all their horrid singing and… less than classy dancing. She sighed a bit as she sipped at her drink, wishing the evening could end quickly. She glanced over at her husband, who was laughing at something that that elf woman had said. She didn’t like how friendly they were with each other. Her husband disappears in the dead of night, and is gone for years, then shows up on her doorstep in Pulchritudo with this entourage of misfits, saying he’d been kidnapped and that he was going to start up a new city with this woman, and that Lilee should come along. Not wanting to start a fight, having seen how determined he was, she’d agreed.

Now here she was, watching a drunk Gnome woman pole dance on a small tree, while the Half-Orc woman tried to talk an upset Half-elf woman down from another tree after a bit of food went flying. Seems she didn’t like to waste it. At least the Halfling man was a good flute player. She groaned inwardly as the tipsy Dwarf man approached her. He held his hand out in an exuberant gesture and said “Lady Praestrigat, may I have this dance?” He said with a cheeky grin. Lilee bit back a sharp retort and put a pained smile on her face. “I’m afraid I can’t Grafaer, I don’t appear to be feeling very well, perhaps the alcohol is not sitting well with me.”

“Not sitting well with you? Well that just can’t be! This is your husband’s finest wine and ale he brought from Pulchritudo!” He then grabbed a bottle to take a big swig then stumbled away. Lilee sighed and put her elbows on the table, normally a horrendous offense to etiquette she’d been trained out of years ago, but today she allowed it to put her head in her hands and rubbed her temples. She once again glanced over at Grailben, he had refused to tell her much about how he’d met this group of people, and what they’d been doing for the past 5 years, saying it was better that she not know and leave the past in the past. Then why couldn’t he leave these people in the past? She frowned as she saw her husband, now slightly drunk, place his hand on that Eriel’s shoulder while laughing. Who was she kidding? She knew why. She sighed and crossed her arms on the table and buried her head in her arms.

She then felt a weight sit on the bench beside her and glanced up to see the other human of the party, a wizard, she didn’t mind him much, seeming one of the most sane of the group sometimes. “You get used to them after a while, even grow fond of them.” He said as he looked over the party with a calm but content smile. Lilee groaned a bit in annoyance. “I don’t understand how you manage to put up with them Albus, I mean, you’re so gentle and quiet and, and… sane! How can you deal with these hooligans?” She spoke all this quietly so as not to cause a scene, but she felt she could talk to Albus, even when she felt she couldn’t talk to her own husband. Albus’s smile widened just a fraction as he turned to look at her.

“Well… All I can tell you is we had a lot of time to work together and work out our differences, time grows bonds where you thought there would never be any.” At this she glanced over at her husband with a slightly defeated look. “Don’t worry.” Albus’s voice sounded softly beside her, causing her to turn back to him. “Eriel is not interested in Grailben as any more than a friend, she has no intention of taking him from you.”

“How can you be sure?” Lilee asked as she looked back at them then rested her head down on her arms again with a defeated sigh. Albus looked over and saw Eriel glance up at him, then look away quickly as she was caught looking at him before he sighed. “Call it… an educated guess.”

 

[katisacat]

(Here we see another spirit dat haz taken refuge in deh player character'z body, arguably deh leader and most powerful of deh spiritz, a Marilith)

The man glided through the dark forest, his movements rhythmic and smooth, as though a haunting melody led his very movements. He made no noise as he passed, barely disrupting the undergrowth around him, though his body was large, likely weighing upwards of 2,000 pounds, he wasn’t quite sure, as he had no real way to measure it. His pale skin shown in the speckled moonlight under the trees and his eyes, a piercing orange, the iris slitting down the center with a chilling predatory gaze, and his dark scales shown like sheets of emerald in the dark night.

As he made his way through the dark, budding forest a sly smile crept onto his lips as he thought back to how he found himself on this newly thriving continent in this mundane world. Being one of few ever born males to a female dominated species, he’d already been painted with the broad brush of being different among his race. He had tried to fit in, certainly, taken up arms and joined his comrades in the never ending battles of the Abyss… But he never found pleasure in the messy slaughter of war. No… he liked his work to be clean… and purposeful.

And thus, he made his way out of the Abyss, no easy feat I assure you, but doable for someone of his caliber and cunning. And so he was on this continent, he’d heard some of the land folk calling it… what was it… Ecla… A simple name really, though it did hold an air of mystery, like a book yet to be opened.

The man stopped his musings upon his arrival to his destination, a small, pitifully built stone structure, he hissed softly in mild annoyance at being called to such a… mundane meeting spot. As he was musing over the poor structure of this building, a figure appeared in the doorway, he was too small for a human, and not bulky enough to be a dwarf, he was rather lean to be precise.

“Ahhhhhh…. A halfling has called me… how very unique…” His voice was as smooth and rhythmic as his movements, if not a bit dragged out on the s consonants, but it was also cold and calm, betraying little emotion besides mild disinterest.

“Y-…” The halfling cleared his throat, knowing it was ill advised to show creatures like these even an ounce of fear. “Yes. I need you to capture someone, and gather all the information he knows, through whatever means it takes.” He replied, the angry glint in his eyes showed the reptilian man that this was a personal matter for him.

The sly, sinister smile slid it’s way back onto the serpent man’s face, giving him a chilling, nightmarish look. “You know I don’t buy easy kid…”

The halfling huffed slightly, as he was a 35 year old man, at being called a kid but didn’t dare protest the name. “I’m fairly certain I have something you would find valuable… does this…” He pulled a small, finely cut gem out of his pocket, “spark your interest?”

The man’s eyes widened a mere fraction, almost imperceptibly. “My… How did you come to possess… something so rare…?”

The halfling wouldn’t budge. “How I got it is not important. Are you willing to do the job for it or not?”

The snake man smiled wider and replied. “Very well, seems a simple enough job for me… and should kill some time… I will need you to get me the necessary tools, I have not been on this plane long…”

“Then we have a deal. Can I have a name by which to find you once I have gathered them.”

The man let out a soft, cool and dark chuckle. “My… I have not gone by a name in quite some time… Call me… Synthese…” He then disappeared into the wooded night.