The Black Sun

[Kaybrie]

News of the apprehension of the short lived criminal super-star Sile reaches the ears of the common folk in no time, where the woman reportedly was dragged the the city jailhouse for the second time this week to receive disciplinary action for defecting against then impersonating the Sundren Legion. Simultaneously, a phenomena was witnessed across the country that chilled its population to the bone, the sun for all its glory was eclipsed by a black disk and briefly snuffed out all light across the country.

[caterpillar]

When Sile hears about the unnatural phenomenon somewhere deep in her mind the flashes of joy, madness and love strike the barrier of solemnity with a speed and fury of the horde of Mossdale orcs ... but!

And ... within the same second ... the emotion is gone. The pain on her neck wards off the blow of insanity as it knocks her down to her knees. The ... urge, now more clearer than ever, uncompromisingly fights its way up ... yes! Sile rubs her temple ... she surely promised the ugly boy from the stables to help him with the sick horse. She should-has to go ... the help is needed.

[Nyssis]

A solar eclipse. The choice sign of N'asr, the Black Sun, and a mark of His that's oft revered as a holy day. A sign seen in Anauroch and now in the Sundered Valley, but is the sun really different for each sky it roves? Were Cyricists in her home killing anything they could get their hands on this very moment?

When darkness swept over Sestra --- swallowing whole farmlands and reducing the churning waves to ink --- the gravekeeper dropped the lid of the casket she was holding ajar in shock. The abrupt crash of stone on stone would be enough to make any man jump clear of his boots, but the she-elf was stricken too petrified.

'Twas a day less cold than this when one of the Sworn brought children to the eidolon, marked with Shar's disk but perverted with Cyric's madness. 'Twas a day like this when dunes became as a black sea, when she swore her heart stopped in her chest. When she went mad herself as tenebrous ichor blinded her eyes.

And then it was gone. Lasvi's hands tremble as she moils to set that lid back in place, both on the sarcophagus and on her fear. She will be oft to check the sun with bated breath while outside from now on. A nightmare she holds close, is her respect for the Mad God's followers. A target many will prove, is her worry should they become active soon.

[Kitsunestume]

The man known to many as Araman stood at his camp on the shores of the Ixis isles, watching as a wall of darkness consumes the azure plane before him. The scene dredged a though, no a collection of thoughts: an emotion, long since buried within the void of his psyche. A faint feeling of warmth, fleeting. What was it called again? Pleasure?

Yes, pleasure at watching the colorful environment before him engulfed wholesale by his Mistress' embrace, a land temporarily stolen from At'ar. As the leading edge of the shadow reached him, the man glanced up. His face cracked into a thin smile as a massive black disk slipped fully into place across Elah's accursed ball of fire, stolen in turn from a different plane. Was it the after-images, or could he see a faint purple corona around the object, beneath the brighter white flares now visible?

After conducting a silent prayer, the figure strides off towards the exigo landing elsewhere on the isle. If the Mistress saw fit to use the Mad God, then he hadn't a reason not to use the Sworn, in turn, if any were to be found.

The man smiled once more as the Seasword took him, now disguised, back to the mainland: the retreat had served its purpose; it was time to take the initiative.

[Peridan]

Daniel was sitting outside the Second Wind Inn as the sun eclipsed in the sky overhead. A lazy trail of smoke drifted up into the rafters of the establishment while his cool grey gaze stared off into memory. As the sun slowly turned black, his eyes flicked upwards towards the heavens.

He shifted minutely, and watched the world turn dark.

[Standur]

Ryland and Melissa Salena sat on the park bench in front of the pond enjoying the afternoon weather and an opportunity to spend time in simple conversation when the sky began to dim. They watched as the sun became a mere highlight behind the more dominant black hole. The people in the streets and the buzzing of the insects that had just seconds ago filled their ears fell into something short of a reverent silence. Frightened eyes turned turned skyward and murmurring lips trembled oaths to a dozen different gods. At the peak of the darknesses dominance over the light the two could only agree the blotting of the sun was a dark omen. The blackened disk backlighted by the sun reminded Ryland of something but she just couldn't pull the thought together as the sight pressed down upon her like a heavy load that she did not want to bear.

[FoogooFish]

The coiled, taut leather of the blood-covered whip loosely dangled from her still-gripped hand. The dungeon was dark; only by the erratic flickering of wall sconces was she able to see the bloody punishment she had just finished inflicting upon the screaming, crying woman chained to the pillar at the other end of the dismal chamber. "...my LORD... YES MY LORD...!" the woman shrieked before a maddening ripple of laughter invaded the Legionnaire's sensitive ears; an eerie, skin-crawling feeling of dread then enveloped the rest of her senses. Emiliana's eyes cut first towards the Red Blade Initiate who had somberly watched her exact justice, and then she regarded the jail guardsman, seemingly still transfixed and awed by the fact that the prisoner was still alive before him, until he slowly reached to take the whip from his superior's grasp.

Centurio Blackwell left the dungeon without another word, and by the time she wended her way through the maze of locked corridors and reached the Entertainment District, not a trace of the ominous eclipse remained.

[Aniril_Telin]

Faucon stood in the courtyard and watched the black globe engulf the sun, he watched as the light of the world was briefly extinguished. As the ominous feeling lifted, he turned evenly to enter the Triumverate Barracks, patting one of the men in the courtyard reassuringly on the shoulder. He dons his armor ceremoniously praying over each piece of the heavy plates rising at last to take his swords from the mantle, he strides outside again to join the hunt that will come.

[Satoshi]

Where were you when the Black Sun rose?

Day had become night in a matter of seconds, casting an eerie silence over the Legion Camp. All conversations around the fire were instantly brought to a halt, the soldiers paused their patrols to stare at the sky. Arlioch began to look around frantically and asked in a hushed tone, "Did she do that," in reference to the fey-woman who had been only moments before pranking about like a merry fool.

No. It wasn't her.

"Ho," Davey said, trying to break the uncomfortable silence of the group. "What... just happened?"

Nicholas ignored the question, his mind awhirl about the event he was watching unfold. His hand lifted to his chest instinctively, drawing the sign of his mistress and a whispered prayer in Damaran on his lips. It wasn't until the full minute of the eclipse ran it's course that he finally found the strength and will to move himself.

"I don't understand. Was that an omen?" Arl asked, ever blissfully ignorant. Davey was watching him, though, and Nicholas could feel his appraising gaze before he even spoke.

"Um... you okay, Nicholas?" He waved off the man's question, even as he began packing his things into his backpack and making ready for the trip out with the next caravan.

"Yeah... yeah, fine. I'll be... back later. Going to check Mirakus for some... things." And he was gone with the very next caravan.

[Kaybrie]

An odd spectacle took place in Sestra the past eve, a conflict arose between noble guardians of virtues and servants of shadow along the outskirts of town. With the help of Kyle Rendell the elf managed to secure victory against the evildoers, though not before Adjudicator Blackwell was slain in battle.

In the closing instances of the conflict a not-so-mysterious wizard appeared and proudly boasted himself a servant of the Black Sun. The defenders, already exhausted from battle were put back on their heels in his presence, and the man made off with two bodies, that of a local Bard, and the Adjudicator Blackwell. Both were sighted later, unharmed from the incident and seen emerging from near the Necropolis.

Sundren's population has become hushed and stricken with fear, between the bloodmaim, vampires and now the black sun, common folk and merchants are barely capable of carrying out their daily tasks, suicides, murders and vandalism become increasingly rampant in the waking chaos.

[Nyssis]

Markings typically come and go with ease, but now the mausoleum is hers. Her heart hit that ground, dotted that masonry, seeped into that dirt. It fed those weeds that returned anon ev'ry off day and made the pedicle fat, resilient enough to deny each instrumental pluck of her claws come time to clean the yard. It wed soot that would have otherwise facilely blown 'way.

More than anything else, those dead for whom she cares --- drawing only a breath worth of her life underfoot --- could feel said care. They could feel it in her blood, if they feel at all, and in her blood it was washing down, down, down through layers of packed loam with the onset of rain. The storm did little to remove signs of combat within a candle of the next day, much to her chagrin.

The caretaker defended her yard. And then she spent hours beneath the gyre of the sun cleaning up what survived the coming of N'asr's faithful without a word of complaint. Quite easily put, indeed; she defended it. But 'twas a true thought to remember and fear His mad servants. And truer still it is, that matters in the Sundered Vale are rarely if ever 'with ease.'

[glaes]

Many of the faces at the Temple Barracks of the Triumvirate have taken on a somber tone of late, and this holds doubly so for the Blade of Torm that walks its halls. When there is so much uncertainty in these times, it seems the Triumvirate is doing all it can to provide stability to its members and the general populace, the way the man moves about the vale.

"The Black Sun? A clear omen of Madness, a clear sign our foes are increasing, not slackening. We should all be sharpening our swords." Darius speaks with a fellow brother or sister, and continues on his way.