RaKacharz

The Shadowlord's mark upon his neck.....

---

---

Genes:
Metallic
Toxin
Scales

Apparel:
-Crimson Rogue Bracers
-Crimson Rogue Footpads
-Midnight Sandwastes Turban
-Crimson Rogue Mask
-Crimson Rogue Belt
-Darktwine Icepick
-Crimson Rouge Winguard

---

You find yourself in a walled city, a city you don't remember coming to. An overpowering small of strong soap mingles with the smell of burning torches, under your feet the stones are damp - perhaps they were recently washed? In fact - there is not a speck of dust to be seen. The light is glaringly bright, every corner is visible and shadow lingers nowhere.

What is this place? You look up and see a towering scarlet skydancer, dressed entirely in red. Gloves cover his hands, his head swathed in tight-fitting cloth that cover his mouth and nose - you can only see his eyes, and they are cold, cruel things. A long plaited whip hangs from his wrist.

The skydancer brushes his hands down his body, from shoulders to hips and mummers "Noradzeer." And the empty room seems to fill with voices for a moment, a hundred voices, a thousand, mummer along with him. Noradzeer, noradzeer, noradzeer, noradzeer... and the great room echos.

"This is Noradz," says the scarlet figure, his voice muffled by the cloth that covered his mouth and nose. "Visitors are not welcome here. Why have you come?"

You say that you are lost and do not know how you came to be here. And you ask to leave - but the skydancer looks down upon you and responds.

"It is our time to eat, and a platter has been prepared...The food has already been blessed by the Nine. When food has been blessed, it must be eaten within the hour."

Reluctantly you follow, wary of this strange place and the spotless skydancer, and more wary still of the others you may meet here. And yet.....the city is empty. You pass not a soul.

On a ledge you spot a scrap of paper - so sorely out of place that you must stop to look at it - to read it.

Puzzled you replace the note and move on, following the Ra-Kachar through empty spaces. The dining hall is filled with long rows of high, bare tables - each set with a single plate and cup. The skydancer stares at you, an unmoving statue of red, until you take your place at an empty table. Again he makes the motions, again he says that word and the hall echos it back.

"Spilt food is evil. Noradzeer. The evil must be driven out by a hundred strokes of the whip. Noradzeer." He intones, perching at a high table - above the others, it is red, red like blood, like pomegranate juice.

There's another note tucked under your empty plate:
The Ra-Kachar doesn't seem to notice you leave, he still faces the empty dining hall, talons resting on his whip and once again the cold cruelty in his eyes chills you. As you leave you can't help but notice that there's a patch of skin showing on the side of his neck - an old ugly scar of a brand - an eyed handprint in the middle of a circle.

There is a table beside a round metal grille set into a wall, another note resting on it - tucked partly beneath a large carved silver goblet.

Harrowing Vellum Missive

Trinkets

A mysterious piece of torn parchment. The only characters you can see are [IAU, UYNFG], but there must be other pieces with more. (3 of 7)

500

The Cup reveals the truth - Noradzeer.

The two small cups within the Cup both read DEATH. Unsettled you carry on. Finally you reach an exit.

Another room, another table, the floor pulses with amelanistic racers - the snakes twine and twist over one another. There's a picture of a massive snake with a crown upon its brow - rising above a city that much resembles this one, though it is dirty and dark and rats peer from every corner. A tray holds butcher's figs and over-ripe cherries, a scrimshaw of the plaguemother rests beside it. There is the small, still body of a pale rat prince - laid before the Snake's image. But most disturbing of all is the note that accompanies the items:

Ominous Primitive Scripture

Trinkets

A mysterious piece of torn parchment. The only characters you can see are [QDFNG FYY], but there must be other pieces with more. (1 of 7)

500

There were few rats, then. My kingdom had not yet achieved the glory of destiny. But my Master had chosen his servants well. They bred more rats for me - more rats, and more. Until at last the walls teemed with them, and disease spread, and all the food in the city was consumed. And then the people begged the rat catchers to save them, little knowing that they were the very ones who caused the plague.

(The city has extremely strict laws about cleanliness that extends to food preparation and more. Any small creatures like rats are considered evil and unclean, any are met with much fear. Only absolutely perfect food can be eaten, the rest is gotten rid of. Like the city Rakacharz smells overwhelmingly of soap with an undertone of burning torches, he is spotlessly clean. He is also very cruel and not above bending the rules to suit him. Was one of the rat catchers that was responsible for creating a plague of rats that destroyed a vast city)

---

Carrot

D R A G O N Put role here • Put role here

~
~

STATISTICS: STR |▓▓▓▓░░░░░| DEX |▓▓▓▓░░░░░| CON |▓▓▓▓░░░░░| INT |▓▓▓▓░░░░░| WIS |▓▓▓▓░░░░░| INT |▓▓▓▓░░░░░| Crimson mob bold Paint the town - red - giant uncontrolled Red letter A's told And crimson can seduce and turn a district into sleepers Infect a righteous leader with a case of scarlet fever Now let that crimson rise within, begin to see red Catch that surprise, crimson reveals, begin to seem red If crimson blooms all the waters up and seized red And all the crimson in our hands leave them seas red." - Silver Crimson Black, Zack Hemsky

You find yourself in a walled city, a city you don't remember coming to. An overpowering small of strong soap mingles with the smell of burning torches, under your feet the stones are damp - perhaps they were recently washed? In fact - there is not a speck of dust to be seen. The light is glaringly bright, every corner is visible and shadow lingers nowhere. What is this place? You look up and see a towering scarlet skydancer, dressed entirely in red. Gloves cover his hands, his head swathed in tight-fitting cloth that cover his mouth and nose - you can only see his eyes, and they are cold, cruel things. A long plaited whip hangs from his wrist. The skydancer brushes his hands down his body, from shoulders to hips and mummers "Noradzeer." And the empty room seems to fill with voices for a moment, a hundred voices, a thousand, mummer along with him. Noradzeer, noradzeer, noradzeer, noradzeer... and the great room echos. "This is Noradz," says the scarlet figure, his voice muffled by the cloth that covered his mouth and nose. "Visitors are not welcome here. Why have you come?" You say that you are lost and do not know how you came to be here. And you ask to leave - but the skydancer looks down upon you and responds. "It is our time to eat, and a platter has been prepared...The food has already been blessed by the Nine. When food has been blessed, it must be eaten within the hour." Reluctantly you follow, wary of this strange place and the spotless skydancer, and more wary still of the others you may meet here. And yet.....the city is empty. You pass not a soul. On a ledge you spot a scrap of paper - so sorely out of place that you must stop to look at it - to read it. Unfathomable Ripped Note Trinkets A mysterious piece of torn parchment. The only characters you can see are [ACII AUCZ, UK], but there must be other pieces with more. (5 of 7) 500 The Nine Ra-Kacharz keep the people to the holy laws of cleanliness, watchfulness, and duty - Thus is the city safe. Noradzeer Puzzled you replace the note and move on, following the Ra-Kachar through empty spaces. The dining hall is filled with long rows of high, bare tables - each set with a single plate and cup. The skydancer stares at you, an unmoving statue of red, until you take your place at an empty table. Again he makes the motions, again he says that word and the hall echos it back. "Spilt food is evil. Noradzeer. The evil must be driven out by a hundred strokes of the whip. Noradzeer." He intones, perching at a high table - above the others, it is red, red like blood, like pomegranate juice. There's another note tucked under your empty plate: Baffling Scrap of Paper Trinkets A mysterious piece of torn parchment. The only characters you can see are [OLSEFCU, Y], but there must be other pieces with more. (6 of 7) 500 And if we find such a place, we will say, 'No rats here', and it will be a blessing. The Ra-Kachar doesn't seem to notice you leave, he still faces the empty dining hall, talons resting on his whip and once again the cold cruelty in his eyes chills you. As you leave you can't help but notice that there's a patch of skin showing on the side of his neck - an old ugly scar of a brand - an eyed handprint in the middle of a circle. There is a table beside a round metal grille set into a wall, another note resting on it - tucked partly beneath a large carved silver goblet. Harrowing Vellum Missive Trinkets A mysterious piece of torn parchment. The only characters you can see are [IAU, UYNFG], but there must be other pieces with more. (3 of 7) 500 The Cup reveals the truth - Noradzeer. The two small cups within the Cup both read DEATH. Unsettled you carry on. Finally you reach an exit. Another room, another table, the floor pulses with amelanistic racers - the snakes twine and twist over one another. There's a picture of a massive snake with a crown upon its brow - rising above a city that much resembles this one, though it is dirty and dark and rats peer from every corner. A tray holds butcher's figs and over-ripe cherries, a scrimshaw of the plaguemother rests beside it. There is the small, still body of a pale rat prince - laid before the Snake's image. But most disturbing of all is the note that accompanies the items: Ominous Primitive Scripture Trinkets A mysterious piece of torn parchment. The only characters you can see are [QDFNG FYY], but there must be other pieces with more. (1 of 7) 500 There were few rats, then. My kingdom had not yet achieved the glory of destiny. But my Master had chosen his servants well. They bred more rats for me - more rats, and more. Until at last the walls teemed with them, and disease spread, and all the food in the city was consumed. And then the people begged the rat catchers to save them, little knowing that they were the very ones who caused the plague.