The Shackled City

Wandering Minds 11-3-2012

gnosis introduction

I have traveled from Reality to Reality breaking the boundries between time and space and i have finally located them. After Herodotus informed me of this Victor and his companions the “Brotherhood of Blades” it took us 6 months to catch up with them. Behold destiny it is fetid comedic fashion bring me to the home of a childhood that is little more than a flicker of memory, the city Cauldron.

It seems i come just in time. The brotherhood is on hard times, it enemies amass from its failed coup-de-etat and the populace recoils under the yoke of tyranny after being promised salvation. I must make contact with the Brotherhood but under current conditions all will be suspect. I am affraid a direct and messy course of action is called for. First i will spread propaganda about the city of an impending attack on the main orc encampment the following morning. This is the only way i can see to get the brotherhoods attention and demonstrate my willingness to advanse their goals.

As i was wandering the streets of cauldron sending out waves of propaganda i stumbled upon a few dozen orcs with a shackled fool who came into town seeking to “join the heroes of the city”. You would think he would be a bit more inquisitive and keep current of the heroes current status. Still perhaps some merit in demonstrating i am no friend of the guard will earn a measure of respect. However the citizenry need not be directly involved. I step in front of the approaching a collumn as the crowds part in its wake fearful of retribution from the guard. The commander of the contigent calls out for me to clear out of the way, i unshoulder my cloak and grin at him as peasentry barrs doors and windows around us. I throw up an ecotplasmic tomb around the guardsmen and myself keeping things nice and cozy for the impending storm, the commander lays into me his blade missing me by milimeters as i easily dodge around his clumsy movements. The captured zealot is resourceful, i can see him rising above the hoard of his captors as i have entranced them with my show, 20, 25 35, ahhh 40 as he passes outside the range of my blast i detonate. Damn someone just destroyed my ectoplasmic wall right before the blast took form, it appears their intent was on freeing the captured lad as well. the blast rips through the rank and file breaking bone and blade and crushing armor alike, storefront are reduced to splinters and porches and walkways collapse. I had not intended such damage. The foolish rogue who collapsed my ectoplasmic wall seems to have avoided the crushing effects, i shout to him as he drags the hopeful little zealot to tell the blades to be prepared for the morning attack and i foldspace removing myself from the situation to prepare for dawn.

Apparently while i was safely removed to the outskirts of the town, the blades were engaed in their share of revenge. they retrieved their fallens remains and butchered a guards post in a fitting fashion. i look forward to first light and what it will bring.

As the first rays of Dawn break the calderra’s peak i foldspace into the central part of the camp. I have picked a spot i heard blacksmithing from hoping to damage armor weapons and supplies with my sonic burst. A moment after i arrive orcs scream out in fury only to be deafened by my burst. an 80’ wide circle remains with tattered tent and broken bodies surrounding me. My morning has begun and my attack on the camp is obvious to all. I sprint into the next position flipping and dodging in order to maximize the area of my burst when i hear the sounds of battle at the perimeter. The blades have decided to join the fun. Fireballs are streaking across the sky to remote areas of the camp and my sonic burst are leveling wide swathes the carnage is in full bloom. I head over to my next target and am ravaged by magic missles. curses! Such simplistic things, i am forced on the defensive, their are hidden foes surrounding me, I accelerate my time frame followed by sundering my mind in the time between a click on a clock i have prepared myself for those foolish enough to face me. invoking resitances to spells and powers and coupled with reaching out for any minds with hostile intent i realize they are at range. I hear shouts from the far side it appears a few of my compatriots have fallen in gruesome fashion from the riotous orc cries. I attempt to Foldspace and fail. I must get closer to observe what is transpiring. Arrgh another wave of missiles and crossbow bolts a few finding their mark and penetrating my barrier. I pierce the viels of reality and see all for what it truly is… a bunch of gnomes ingeniusly placed far enough apart so a single burst can not overwhelm them. I maneuvar myself into their center summoning my blades and prepare to cleave them apart. I see the arcanist who has been throwing fireballs about gruesomly take an arrow into his ear.. he drifts slowly towards the ground greviously wounded, i must insure he is recovered i suspect he will not be welcomed when he gets tot he surface. i dispatch the gnomes in short order sprint to the second group and bursting again. It is time for my to head towards the Blades and see how they are fairing. Another two burst coupled with a bit of healing and i see something horrific. The blades have turned on each other a ethereal cat merged creature has just inflicted a horrific wound on Victor. Victor grasp his holy symbol and utters a word and is instantly gone… a word of recall i suspect. i reach the arcanist body he is alive and unusual it appears this is an engorged gnome. i quickly throw him over my shoulder and speed for the camps edge when i notice the cat-beast sprinting towards me. I have neither the time nor patience to deal with the controlled, so i cage him in an exctoplasmic wall planeshifting as i get a few hundred feet past the encampment. Occipitus welcome us with pustules and dread. I burrow into the flesh of the plane and make camp. This gnome will hopefully be able to enlighten me on the diversity of the brotherhoods skills and clarify their objectives.

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