Achaean News
A Mask, a Theft, and a Vision
Written by: Anonymous 
Date: Monday, February 18th, 2008
Addressed to: Everyone
The excavation of the Chapel of All Gods continued efficiently during   
the initial few years following its discovery, but as the year 460 AF   
drew to a close, progress suddenly halted. Workers were seen pouring    
from the chapel, ashen-faced and terrified by the presence of a         
malevolent spirit, and refused to return to work.                       
In the caves beneath the temple ruins, however, adventurers found only  
the confused ghost of a small Theran boy, one of the many victims of the
Black Wave. Furthermore, it seemed that he had some kind of information 
regarding the contents of the chapel, hinting that something was buried 
within. As the relieved workers returned to their excavation, rumours   
began to circle about what might be found beneath the chapel.           
The chapel ruins were thick with adventurers, and it was Ayasera        
Campbell-Faelithar who uncovered the shattered remains of an ornate     
mask. Thinking the young spirit may know more about it, she handed the  
broken pieces to the ghost. As he took them, multicoloured light        
engulfed his hands and their contents, leaving a perfectly reformed     
ebony mask in its wake. The druidess promptly took the mask to Duris,   
the archaeologist in charge of the excavation, who in turn sent it      
directly to Maejin in New Thera for further study.                      
                              ~    ~    ~
Nearly a decade passed as work continued, but the apprentice archivist  
in New Thera was making no progress with the mask, and it was decided   
that the mask would be put on public display, as was the plan for any   
discoveries made in the chapel. Thus, at the close of Miraman, 469 AF,  
the mask was placed in display in the Lucretian Athenaeum's Hall of     
Antiquities.                                                            
The following month found curious adventurers traversing the continent  
to see the mysterious relic, buzzing with questions. One visitor in     
particular, however, showed little interest in the mask. Instead, Xadzia
Rihwin invited Maejin on a tour of a private library some distance      
northward, tempting the apprentice with the prospect of obscure and rare
texts. Reluctant to leave the mask unattended, the scholar was          
eventually persuaded by the offer of a unique donation to the           
Athenaeum's collection.                                                 
Upon returning from the expedition, however, Maejin discovered that her 
fears had indeed been realised. The mask was gone, the broken lock on   
the display case hanging listlessly before her disbelieving eyes. The   
culprits, too, were long gone, while Xadzia insisted she knew nothing of
the situation.                                                          
Meanwhile, a small party crept through the caves beneath the Chapel of  
All Gods. They sought assistance for one of their number, Katia         
Lokelinde Le'Murzen, who arrived with the mask affixed to her face by   
vicious barbs. Accompanied by Tenebrus Ninefingers and a mysterious     
hooded thief, the siren approached the child spirit, who immediately    
recognised the mask. His words were vague and confused, but after much  
prying, he confessed to knowing of someone who could help, cautioning   
that such a man was "very far away" and quick to anger.                 
Suddenly a flash of light exploded behind the mask and Katia collapsed  
on the ground, unconscious. At length she awoke, and spoke of a vision  
in which she stood before a shrine, sacrificing a piglet in the chapel. 
Moments later the mask besieged her again, this time showing images of  
the chapel burning, full of screaming women and children.               
Agonised by Katia's description of the visions, the boy vanished into   
the ether, returning with the spirit of a young priest. The spirit's    
fury at being disturbed did not last long, as the mask once more claimed
control over Katia's senses. The adventurers followed the spirit to the 
Shrine of All Gods, clearing the rubble and locating a golden bowl, for 
which the spirit demanded wine.                                         
The libation was provided by newly arrived Ithron Lokelinde, and the    
growing group gathered before the young priest. Chanting under his      
breath, he ordered Katia to mingle her own blood with the wine in the   
bowl. At the priest's command, she lifted the bowl over her head,       
pouring its contents into the shrine. A fierce tremor shook the         
building, and massive blocks of the stone tore from the ceiling, burying
the shrine. The mask tore ruthlessly from Katia's face, hovering above  
the shrine as the image of an older priest materialised behind it, face 
twisted into a scream of terror.                                        
A blinding light flashed through the room with a violent crack,         
revealing an eerie, translucent image of the chapel before its          
destruction superimposed over the ruins, while a cluster of spectral    
priests huddled in one corner. As the voices reached a crescendo, that  
of the young priest exploded above the rest, "I shan't stay here and die
for you fools!" With that, he stormed from the chamber, vanishing into  
the darkness.                                                           
A crowd of terrified women and children flooded into the chapel,        
escorted by burly soldiers. As they moved slowly through the area, a    
vicious explosion rocked the building, preceding incorporeal ogres and  
hobgoblins who hacked their way through the Therans and set the chapel  
alight with bloodthirsty cries. The visionary battle raged for some     
time, soldiers and priests cutting through dozens of the hideous        
creatures, but ultimately falling to their sheer numbers. Over the sound
of the battle, a single fierce cry was heard as the spirit of a young   
priest charged into the fray, wielding a whirling staff, his face grim  
with determination.                                                     
Flashes of light burst through the room once more, a roaring inferno    
engulfing the chapel and bringing a painful death to those trapped      
within. Rising from the flames, the ethereal young priest stumbled      
desperately through the area, his flowing robes aflame, his flesh burnt 
and blistering. Tears streamed down his disfigured face as he cried out,
"Save the children! You have to protect them!" A final explosion tore   
through the building and the remaining roof collapsed upon him. As the  
smoke cleared, only the ruins remained, and the mask clattered to the   
ground.                                                                 
Wasting no time, the hooded thief, who had remained almost completely   
still and silent until this exact juncture, darted nimbly across the    
rubble, snatching up the mask and vanishing. As a result of the theft   
and greater disturbance within the chapel ruins, an overwhelmed Duris   
immediately closed the premises, ordering his guards to escort the party
away from the grounds and locking the doors before returning to his     
work, his passion renewed.                                              
 
Penned by My hand on the 20th of Mayan, in the year 472 AF.
A Mask, a Theft, and a Vision
Written by: Anonymous 
Date: Monday, February 18th, 2008
Addressed to: Everyone
The excavation of the Chapel of All Gods continued efficiently during   
the initial few years following its discovery, but as the year 460 AF   
drew to a close, progress suddenly halted. Workers were seen pouring    
from the chapel, ashen-faced and terrified by the presence of a         
malevolent spirit, and refused to return to work.                       
In the caves beneath the temple ruins, however, adventurers found only  
the confused ghost of a small Theran boy, one of the many victims of the
Black Wave. Furthermore, it seemed that he had some kind of information 
regarding the contents of the chapel, hinting that something was buried 
within. As the relieved workers returned to their excavation, rumours   
began to circle about what might be found beneath the chapel.           
The chapel ruins were thick with adventurers, and it was Ayasera        
Campbell-Faelithar who uncovered the shattered remains of an ornate     
mask. Thinking the young spirit may know more about it, she handed the  
broken pieces to the ghost. As he took them, multicoloured light        
engulfed his hands and their contents, leaving a perfectly reformed     
ebony mask in its wake. The druidess promptly took the mask to Duris,   
the archaeologist in charge of the excavation, who in turn sent it      
directly to Maejin in New Thera for further study.                      
                              ~    ~    ~
Nearly a decade passed as work continued, but the apprentice archivist  
in New Thera was making no progress with the mask, and it was decided   
that the mask would be put on public display, as was the plan for any   
discoveries made in the chapel. Thus, at the close of Miraman, 469 AF,  
the mask was placed in display in the Lucretian Athenaeum's Hall of     
Antiquities.                                                            
The following month found curious adventurers traversing the continent  
to see the mysterious relic, buzzing with questions. One visitor in     
particular, however, showed little interest in the mask. Instead, Xadzia
Rihwin invited Maejin on a tour of a private library some distance      
northward, tempting the apprentice with the prospect of obscure and rare
texts. Reluctant to leave the mask unattended, the scholar was          
eventually persuaded by the offer of a unique donation to the           
Athenaeum's collection.                                                 
Upon returning from the expedition, however, Maejin discovered that her 
fears had indeed been realised. The mask was gone, the broken lock on   
the display case hanging listlessly before her disbelieving eyes. The   
culprits, too, were long gone, while Xadzia insisted she knew nothing of
the situation.                                                          
Meanwhile, a small party crept through the caves beneath the Chapel of  
All Gods. They sought assistance for one of their number, Katia         
Lokelinde Le'Murzen, who arrived with the mask affixed to her face by   
vicious barbs. Accompanied by Tenebrus Ninefingers and a mysterious     
hooded thief, the siren approached the child spirit, who immediately    
recognised the mask. His words were vague and confused, but after much  
prying, he confessed to knowing of someone who could help, cautioning   
that such a man was "very far away" and quick to anger.                 
Suddenly a flash of light exploded behind the mask and Katia collapsed  
on the ground, unconscious. At length she awoke, and spoke of a vision  
in which she stood before a shrine, sacrificing a piglet in the chapel. 
Moments later the mask besieged her again, this time showing images of  
the chapel burning, full of screaming women and children.               
Agonised by Katia's description of the visions, the boy vanished into   
the ether, returning with the spirit of a young priest. The spirit's    
fury at being disturbed did not last long, as the mask once more claimed
control over Katia's senses. The adventurers followed the spirit to the 
Shrine of All Gods, clearing the rubble and locating a golden bowl, for 
which the spirit demanded wine.                                         
The libation was provided by newly arrived Ithron Lokelinde, and the    
growing group gathered before the young priest. Chanting under his      
breath, he ordered Katia to mingle her own blood with the wine in the   
bowl. At the priest's command, she lifted the bowl over her head,       
pouring its contents into the shrine. A fierce tremor shook the         
building, and massive blocks of the stone tore from the ceiling, burying
the shrine. The mask tore ruthlessly from Katia's face, hovering above  
the shrine as the image of an older priest materialised behind it, face 
twisted into a scream of terror.                                        
A blinding light flashed through the room with a violent crack,         
revealing an eerie, translucent image of the chapel before its          
destruction superimposed over the ruins, while a cluster of spectral    
priests huddled in one corner. As the voices reached a crescendo, that  
of the young priest exploded above the rest, "I shan't stay here and die
for you fools!" With that, he stormed from the chamber, vanishing into  
the darkness.                                                           
A crowd of terrified women and children flooded into the chapel,        
escorted by burly soldiers. As they moved slowly through the area, a    
vicious explosion rocked the building, preceding incorporeal ogres and  
hobgoblins who hacked their way through the Therans and set the chapel  
alight with bloodthirsty cries. The visionary battle raged for some     
time, soldiers and priests cutting through dozens of the hideous        
creatures, but ultimately falling to their sheer numbers. Over the sound
of the battle, a single fierce cry was heard as the spirit of a young   
priest charged into the fray, wielding a whirling staff, his face grim  
with determination.                                                     
Flashes of light burst through the room once more, a roaring inferno    
engulfing the chapel and bringing a painful death to those trapped      
within. Rising from the flames, the ethereal young priest stumbled      
desperately through the area, his flowing robes aflame, his flesh burnt 
and blistering. Tears streamed down his disfigured face as he cried out,
"Save the children! You have to protect them!" A final explosion tore   
through the building and the remaining roof collapsed upon him. As the  
smoke cleared, only the ruins remained, and the mask clattered to the   
ground.                                                                 
Wasting no time, the hooded thief, who had remained almost completely   
still and silent until this exact juncture, darted nimbly across the    
rubble, snatching up the mask and vanishing. As a result of the theft   
and greater disturbance within the chapel ruins, an overwhelmed Duris   
immediately closed the premises, ordering his guards to escort the party
away from the grounds and locking the doors before returning to his     
work, his passion renewed.                                              
 
Penned by My hand on the 20th of Mayan, in the year 472 AF.
