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Restorations Of Darkness


Stratics Veteran
A tight grip on the rail of the ship was all that kept Jacuyl from toppling into the briny water as she peered anxiously down into the murky depths. At Tabitha's shout, she straightened and hastened to the fisherwoman's side.

Rubbing her hands eagerly, yet mindful of the stitching, she watched as Tabitha struggled to haul something from the water with her fishing rod. Leaning in, she took hold and helped to drag the sea's offering onto the waterlogged deck. Her left leg.


A good thing the occupants of the ship could not see past the illusory facade that she maintained of a normal and healthy young woman. The spell was designed to hide the flesh golem that was her temporary body. Her various “parts” a hodgepodge of found pieces, the gruesome smile of satisfaction on that mangled and deteriorated face would likely have caused the other passengers to faint dead away. That idea alone kept her amused at times. Gathering her time-lost bits, she headed to the prow of the ship.

Carefully and reverently she laid the familiar parts as they belonged. Some were worn down to the bone and yet some bits of flesh stubbornly refused to relinquish their grip. Like her soul.

She was bound with rune-marked chains and lay flat on the wooden deck. The holy mages kept a circle around her as the tiller man drove the craft onward. She kept her silver eyes on the star-filled sky of Malas, ignoring the contemptuous stares of the men that contained her with their spells. If her eyes did meet theirs it was to cast her own hatred back at them. She seethed. They could not kill her, they lacked the knowledge. What did they hope to gain other than the backlash of this monumentally ignorant course? Though her body might be sealed for eons it would not be destroyed. And she would return...

How long ago had she been sentenced to the bottom of Gravewater Lake? She could recall each of those holy faces, all of them long dead now. None remained who would remember. It had seemed an eternity that she lay there with nothing but the bizarre and often necrotic denizens of the Umbran deep for company in the water.

The spell came forth from her lips as she wove the strands of magic together. Her companions, witnesses, or whatever you would call them, provided some of the essential energies the complex spell required. The pale strands of energy she pulled from Rameses to mingle with her own were joined by the living energies from Tabitha and Mylar, who were thankfully toward the other end of the boat and not paying close enough attention. The weave before her became a net, visible only to those who could see such works of ether. This she laid atop her prone corpse and watched as it constricted about the yet lifeless body.

“An grav uus vas corp ex,” she breathed over and over. Periodically, she poured the energy from her assembled form into her true body, until only enough remained to maintain the golem. With her last muttered chant, she willed forth her remaining essence back into its true home. The illusion of normality dispelled and no longer possessed, the flesh doll of her temporary body collapsed in a pile of miscellaneous and misappropriated parts on the now-sodden wood deck.

She rose to her feet and stood clad in the crisp sea air looking about with her own eyes for the first time in what seemed a millennium. Raising her hands to the odd blue sky of Trammel, she beckoned forth tendrils of lightning to lick her body, fueling her form. With a satisfied smile, she pillaged her clothing from among the discarded body parts before her and pulled the garments on.

She glanced at the two living people on the ship, Tabitha, who seemed pre-occupied with the treasures they had hauled and Mylar, who still harbored mixed feelings about accompanying the whole voyage. Well, it was too late for that, now. Smug and satisfied, she turned to Rameses.

“Let us leave,” she said, opening a moongate.

Stepping into the welcoming darkness of Umbra, she couldn't help but smile. It was good to be restored.

The fun that lay ahead....