Okay, folks... the last of the flashback posts is now up.  We're up to date with how Kithran got to the point she is at, and as soon as we get a post from Raven, I'll move the game forward.

I know that was a TON of reading, so I hope I didn't bore you to death. 

It is late evening, and Kithran finds herself naked and panting, lounging in Davena's bed. The spark that Kith kindled by making that first move quickly grew into a serious flame, and after only a few days, the former prisoner has found herself relocated from her "guest accommodations" to sharing the High Priestess' personal suite, where she has lived for the past two weeks.

Certainly, there is the odd punishment still, but these have been almost entirely of the very minor variety. Kithran has displayed such a willing attitude that the priestess has found little in need of correction.

In addition, the rogue is no longer viewed as a prisoner. She is free to wander the compound as she sees fit, free to take communal meals (or take them alone with Davena). She wears a standard issue simple dark dress, though Aranwen's sword is always worn on her belt as a symbol of Davena's favor. Indeed, most of the church treat Kithran with respect and deference; all in all, the life is relatively pleasant.

Davena's quarters are hardly lavish, but the furniture is sturdy and comfortable, and the bed - which she openly shares with the priestess - is both large and remarkably soft. All in all, Kithran finds that she now leads a fairly pleasant life.

The beautiful blonde priestess, in a similar state of flushed nakedness, grins her crooked grin. As she has done for the last few nights, Davena removes the pendant from around her own neck, then holds the stone just below Kithran's navel. Each day, the stone has grown warmer, glowed brighter; tonight, it shines like the largest star in a perfectly dark night. A look of joy touches Davena's eyes as her smile spreads.

"Darling," she speaks in a breathy voice, her tone full of emotion, "your time has arrived. You are fertile again."

Kithran smiles wide at the excitement in Davena's voice, "Oh? It very nearly slipped my mind," she chuckled, "I will admit that even after all of our talk on this, I am still a bit . . . nervous. Is that okay?"

Davena nods. "Of course, darling... of course. This is a momentous occasion... if you were not nervous, I would doubt your fitness."

She takes a breath. "It is time to prepare for the Ritual, dear one. Your destiny is at hand; you will receive the gift." Tenderly, the priestess stokes Kithran's hair and face. "I will be here with you for the entire journey."

Kith turns her face into Davena's hand and kisses her palm, "That makes me feel better. When will we begin?"

Davena smiles. "It will be best to do so right away; this gives your body the greatest chance to accept the gift during this cycle. It was one thing to put it off for a month in order for you to learn to accept your role, but I see no reason to dally further. If you are amenable, we should perform the Ritual tonight. Are you ready?"

The rogue bit her lip but nodded, "I am ready, Mistress."

The priestess draws Kithran in for a protective embrace. "I am certain that you have doubts or fears still." Releasing the young woman, Davena continues.

"You may wonder why I am so certain that you are, in fact, the chosen one." She pauses for a moment. "Have you ever heard of hybrid vigor?"

"I am fairly certain we may have just finished some hybrid vigor." Kithran's grin returns faintly through her hesitation. She would do anything for this woman. That Kith would see this ritual through to the end, she had no doubt. It was just those ghouls. She had tried and tried, but the fear they instilled in her, she just could not shake.

The blonde woman chuckles before continuing. "Quite. It is a term normally associated with plants or livestock, but it applies to people, as well. The idea is that, more often than not, hybrid offspring possess resilience not found in either parent species."

Her finger softly traces the point of Kithran's ear. "You, darling, are both human and Sylvari."

She frowns. "Humans seem to all too often burn out when trying to carry or nurse one of the Dark Lord's offspring. And Sylvari have such a deep connection to life that they cannot carry such a babe to term; their bodies reject the death aspect of the child." She pauses thoughtfully. "One night, after prayer, it occurred to me that a hybrid would be the ideal solution. I met you, saw how incredibly strong you were, consulted an oracle... and there was my answer." She smiles fondly.

"I suppose then that I have one thing to be grateful to my mother for," she pushed away the thought of the first one to leave her and smiled sweetly back at her beautiful priestess, "She put me in your way."

"That she did," Davena replies. The priestess rises and begins to dress. "I have preparation to do. I will fetch the ceremonial vestments for you; I trust that you will not pour out the chalice or strike me this time?" Her tone is firm, but her mouth wears that endearing, crooked grin.

Kithran groans and rolls onto her back, scrunching her face up at the memory before looking back up at the priestess sheepishly, "I shall try my very best to control myself this time."

"I appreciate your efforts," Davena replies the grin never leaving her face. She then frowns slightly. "Your part is rather simple. I will cast certain enchantments upon you to help aid in the process. When the time comes, you will simply lie back with your hips elevated to help facilitate the process, and accept the undead father of your unborn child."

Kith's face scrunched again, "Is there really no better way to phrase that?"

The priestess sees the look on Kithran's face, hears her tone, and takes the younger woman's hand in her own. "I understand that this part seems frightening, but I swear to you - the creature will not harm you. I understand that the idea is... unpleasant, that the creature will seek to sate its own desires alone. But truly, my dear... is that so much worse than men you have surely endured in the past, yourself?" Her face holds a bit of dark humor.

Kithran grins at the thought, "It was often the other way around, Davena," she tugs lightly at the hand holding hers, playfully trying to pull her back down to her, "I have since changed my ways. If you've forgotten already I'd be happy to remind you."

The priestess smiles widely. "You are incorrigible! Normally, the ghoul would bite or scratch to inflict paralysis long enough for the Ritual to be completed. I don't think that will be necessary in your case, do you? Besides, I was thinking..." she pauses meaningfully, allowing her hands to stray across Kithran's body, "my mother often taught prospective mothers that impregnation was easier if the women were fully aroused... and that if the woman achieved climax after the consummation, that the chance of pregnancy increased again. And these were the case, perhaps it would help you to focus on subjects besides the sire, yes?"

The darkness that had washed over her face as Davena spoke of the ghouls and their paralyzation quickly gave way to a very enthusiastic nod, "I think that would help quite a bit. Did you have any subjects in mind?"

Davena's smile grows even wider, if such is possible. "Indeed, dear one... I have an idea or two..."

**********************

Kithran stands in the main temple itself, dressed in the ceremonial white gown she first found herself in upon waking in this place; the only change is that she wears the fine sword at her hip. She has been bathed, her hair washed and brushed out, and sweet perfume has been applied to her skin. She has drank deeply of the silver chalice; the liquid was cool, sweet, and spicy... not at all unpleasant. The effects are rather intoxicating, in many ways like a fine wine; the rogue feels very relaxed, very at peace, with a slightly odd sensation of being disconnected from her body - yet at times, intensely aware of it. In particular, Kith can feel the warmth throughout her body; Davena made good on her offer of arousal, kissing and teasing and touching and bringing the young woman to a fever pitch just before leading her into the temple.

The room is filled with dark-robed figures, most on the lower ground, standing side by side, facing the dais. There are ghouls present, but they remain behind the ranks of the living. The attendees chant slowly, quietly, in unison.

Kith finds herself brought up upon the dais, led beyond the black stone altar itself. She cannot help but notice the large, strange device here; it is some sort of container fashioned of a crystalline material, with the device of a grinning skull carved skillfully into it. The skull itself is inlaid with silver, with large green gems set into the eye sockets. She is bade to kneel facing the device; soon, she is joined by two others also dressed in white vestments, who kneel on either side of it, facing Kithran.

One is a red-haired, milky-skinned young human woman of perhaps eighteen years of age. She wears a serene expression on her freckled face, meets Kithran's gaze and smiles warmly.

The figure next to her is a dark-haired, tanned man with a few flecks of gray in his hair and beard. He, on the other hand, appears to be completely terrified; his wide eyes dart this way and that, and his breathing comes in shallow pants.

Davena steps to the center of the dais and raises her arms, and the chanting falls to a whisper. "It is a momentous occasion," she speaks clearly, her voice projecting throughout the temple, "when we, the followers of death, have the chance to create life - a life that will allow our Dark Lord entrance into this mortal realm." Murmurs run around the room.

She gestures to Kithran. "Behold, the vessel that will bring our Dark Lord's anchor into this world!" All eyes turn to the rogue, but hers stay on the priestess.

"Of course," she continues, "such creation requires a price to be paid - in blood, both willing and unwilling. In the end, all life is devoured, these lives in particular will bring power to the vessel, will make her strong enough to bear the gift."

Davena draws her broad bladed knife, and another priest steps to her side, a wooden bowl in his hands. She steps toward the two kneeling sacrifices, and asks aloud, "are you prepared to go into that dark night?"

The young woman smiles widely. "Yes, Mistress! I am ready!" she replies, tilting her head back to expose her neck. Davena nods, steps forward, slices the young woman's throat open. Blood spurts from the grievous wound as the light goes out in the girl's eyes while the acolyte collects her lifeblood into his bowl.

Kithran's eyes go wide as the kneeling man screams, but a word from Davena silences him - though the terror in his eyes is plain for anyone to see. The rogue's gut betrays her in its instinct to speak out for the older man, but that happiness in Davena's eyes . . . she could not risk extinguishing that again. She averts her gaze and steels her gut against the sound of his pleas instead.

The acolyte allows the young woman's body to slump to the ground while he takes the bowl to the container, then pours the blood in. As he does so, the skull's gem eyes glow intensely green.

The process is repeated with the kneeling man, though Davena must expose his throat by grabbing his hair and pulling his head back. His eyes plead for mercy, but the pleas are ignored, and soon, his own lifeblood is filling the bowl. This time, when the blood is poured into the skull container, the gemstone eyes somehow glow a disturbing deep purple.

The crowd resumes chanting, with Davena leading it. The very air seems to grow thick and heavy.

Soon the priestess moves to Kithran's side, and takes her by the hand. "It is time," she whispers. "Be not afraid, darling - I am here with you."

Kithran is led to an odd piece of furniture that resembles a curved couch of sorts. Davena helps her to recline upon it; doing so raises her hips higher than her head.

The priestess moves to the skull container, thrusts her hand inside the mouth; when she draws it out, her fingers are coated with a dark, nearly black substance. She returns to Kithran; at a gesture, another priestess helps to hitch Kithran's skirts up beyond her waist. Davena kneels, draws several sigils on Kithran's belly with the blackish paste, then chants anew.

She looks up, makes eye contact with Kith, then nods before she stands. Kithran can see a ghoul following a priest up upon the dais and to her side. Kithran is unable to keep her breathing even as the thing approaches her, and despite her insatiable need to appease Davena, she wants to flee.

The priestess then takes her hand. "Look at me, darling," she whispers and Kithran does, and it helps immensely, "I am here with you."

It takes all she has not to glance back at the creature softly giggling beside her, but Kithran bites her lip as she looks up into Davena's sweet face. Despite her fear, the priestess brings her comfort, as she always had, through all of her pain and confusion and suffering. This would be no different. Davena would be here for her, comfort her, encourage her. The thought warms her, in spite of the cold she felt, and Kithran gently squeezes her hand, whispering, "I love you, Davena."

A look of surprise crosses the beautiful face of the priestess, but in an instant, it is replaced by a broad smile.  "I love you, too, darling," Davena responds.

And the ritual continues.

The play in HC is incredible.  The play here, every bit as much.

And this Q&A... just, wow. 

I wonder if these characters realize how real they are? 

Yes, that is, in fact, twisted.  Thanks.

Meeeee-OW, my man!

*picturing Ch'dau with cool shades, big gold chains, feathered hat, etc*

@ THAT WORD.  But... but... what of my book of poems that you so dearly love???  You deny me once the light of day shines on my work???? 

Re: changing attitude... that's what I'm saying.  It has been so interesting to see how passionate you have been in both directions!

re: Freud... Oh, I totally think that we should address that.  I mean, maybe one day, the gals can kick back and share Davena notes.  I think that sounds like a WONDERFUL mother/daughter experience.

Raven is KILLING me, .  Who knew that sweet blushing Cedric owned a full leather suit complete with zipper mouth and ball gag? 

It's been so interesting to watch Bree's attitudes in real life morph along with Kith's attitudes in the game.

I have messages from weeks ago, right when Kith was first captured, that reflected Bree's absolute molten HATRED for Davena.  As in, true, utter LOATHING for a fuctional character.

And then... the tone shift in the messages went about as radical as the tone shift between the flashback posts.  It's "Davey" this and "Davey" that, and this messed up, brain scrambled love... seriously, it's been facsinating. 

Bree is a method actress, I think.

rofl @ "should read the latest post". 

Haha... I strongly considered using the proper/in joke title for this post.

Flashback: the Dewification



Breebles meltdown in 3... 2... 1...

...it sounds like a plan to me, Raven. 

It might lead to "rocks fall, everybody dies", but what the heck? 

Bree - I didn't mean it like that, M'lady.  Just saying that when they all read how deep the betrayal goes, they may be sick. 

The next flashback is up.

Three more days have passed since the incident with the acolyte and the sword. Since that time, the punishments have been far less regular, and far milder. Davena's attitude seems to have shifted since that time; she seems kinder, more relaxed.

The night before, the priestess had promised a boon for Kithran if the latter behaved herself. It is now morning; an acolyte has come to empty the chamber pot and place food on the repaired table.

Presently, Davena herself makes an entrance into Kithran's room. She gives a soft smile. "And how did you sleep, dear one?" she asks. "Have you behaved yourself?"

Kithran swallows her mouthful of breakfast and wipes her face as she turns to Davena and nods, "I slept well, thank you. Did you, Priestess?" Her grin widens, her growing excitement unabashedly spreading across her face, "And yes, I've been *very* well behaved."

Davena smiles broadly at the proclamation. "I am glad to hear that, dear one. And yes, thank you - I slept well, indeed."

The ghost of a frown crosses the beautiful face for a moment, and the tone lowers a bit. "Now, Kithran, I want you to understand - 'Priestess' is an acceptable term, certainly. And in private, you may use my name. But when we are with others, the preferred term is 'Mistress'. Do you understand?"

The thief nods, a grin still plain on her face, "Yes, Davena, thank you for the correction."

The smile returns to Davena's face. "Good. Now, since you have been such a good girl, I have brought you a gift. Come here to me, please."

Kithran jumps up from her seat and eagerly makes her way to the sweet priestess. Up until this point, she had not been able to behave well enough to deserve a gift. Punishments, absolutely, but she had learned so much from those already that they were in their own way a gift. There was also all of the comfort that came with the punishments. Davena was so gentle with her afterward, healing her, holding her, speaking sweetly to her--it felt so nice after her lessons. If that was all the priestess had to offer by way of a gift, it was already more than she deserved.

The priestess produces a bundle of cloth, then unwraps it - it is Aranwen's sword, sheathed in a new scabbard, with a new belt. The sword has been cleaned and meticulously polished. "This is for you," Davena explains. "Now that you have come to understand and embrace your place, I think that you deserve a reward - the first of many, to be sure. This is for you to keep, to wear as you like."

The half-Syl's eyes widen at the beautiful gift. She hardly deserved Davena's attentions, so to be honored with an item like this. . . it was beyond gracious. "The Bladesinger's sword, Davena? Are you sure?"

The priestess nods at her and Kith's grin returns, "Thank you! I'll take very good care of it."

A crooked grin tugs at the corner of Davena's mouth. "Well, Darling... come here, let me buckle it on you."

Kithran takes the few steps forward and holds her arms out for the priestess to put it on her. Davena briefly wraps her arms around the rogue's waist to put the belt on her and Kith instinctually leans into her, enjoying the contact and her pleasant scent among the light essence of putrescence that never seems to leave this place. She thinks again of the sweet, caressing comforts the priestess provides after her lessons and hopes Davena will linger in this close proximity with her for just a while longer. Unfortunately the priestess works swiftly, and catches Kith staring at her as she smiles and steps away.

Encouraged, Kithran draws the sword. If Davena showed any hesitation at the act it was lost of the rogue, as she remained in awe of the blade. Sure there were some imperfections here and there, many she assumed a Bladesinger would not be able to tolerate, but it was beautiful. Kithran stepped away from Davena and took a few swings of her own. It was slightly uncomfortable in the hands of one so used to smaller blades, but it nearly sang through the air on its own. It was truly a remarkable gift from the priestess, one she would care for meticulously in order to show her how much it meant to her.

**********************

It is evening of the same day. Kithran is seated across the small table from Davena. The two of them share a meal and company; Kithran cannot be certain, but this seems like it may be some of the finest food she has eaten in perhaps forever. Certainly since before arriving at Crandel those days or weeks or months ago. A young woman - barely a teen, by the looks of her - serves as an attendant, refilling glasses and such.

The conversation is light, with Davena sharing a story of a one-eared dog, of all things. The beautiful priestess smiles often, her eyes dancing with humor as she tells the tale.

The conversation comes to a jarring halt as Kithran, unthinking, answers the priestess by the use of the latter's name. Davena's face grows cold and hard, then the note of sadness creeps into her expression.

"Darling," she addresses Kithran, "we have spoken of this matter, have we not? It is very important that you use the proper terms of respect."

The priestess glances at the young acolyte/maid. "Leave us," Davena requests cooly.

The ashen faced young woman nods and races to comply. "Of course, Mistress!" She is gone within moments, closing the door behind her.

Sorrowfully, Davena stands. "You have made great strides, dear one. I will be the first to admit that. But we cannot allow even a mustard seed of rebellion or disrespect to fester away. These impurities must be purged from you. Do you understand?"

Kithran nods and stands to await her punishment, "Yes, Mistress."

The priestess nods. "Very well. Strip and lean over the bed. I believe that a small caning should be sufficient to purge a small offense like this. There is no need to truly hurt you."

The rogue quickly and obediently does as requested, both in order to appease her mistress, as well as to avoid any further lessons. A simple caning was nothing compared to what this lovely, deadly woman was capable of.

For a Davena punishment, this was mild indeed. Very little blood was drawn, though the stinging welts on Kithran's legs and buttocks would have been enough to bring many a strong man to tears. As always, the priestess gives her healing touch, soothing the pain away as she coos softly to Kithran, speaking of obedience and the gifts of such, complementing the young women on her strength and resilience.

Kith sat up gingerly, despite how nice it felt whenever the priestess healed her. She wearily leaned forward to rest her forehead against Davena's stomach while the powerful woman took the time to give her praise and stroke her hair. It was nice. Kithran couldn't remember the last time someone had taken so much time with her, shown her so much patience, given her so many chances. Anyone who had ever come close had either been lost, left, or given up on her. Davena was all she had left now, and she was determined to keep her.

The thief moved her head back slightly so she could tilt it up toward the priestess, a grin curling the lips beneath her dark eyes, "Davena, thank you for solidifying this lesson for me. I will do better in the future."

The priestess smiles softly.  "You are welcome, dear one.  I believe that you will, indeed."

"Oh, a moment, please," she asks as she feels the priestess begin to move away. Davena pauses for her and Kithran too takes a moment, uselessly trying to calm her nerves before she continues. She looks back up at her, "I would like to show you my gratitude, if that is all right?"

Davena arches an eyebrow as a grin tugs at the corner of her mouth.  "Yes..." she replies.  "that would be all right.  What did you have in mind?"

Her roguish smile grows slightly and Kithran stands up before her. If Davena had been unsure of her intentions before, her own beautiful smile suggested that was no longer the case, as Kithran slowly raises a finger to the side of the priestess's face. Touching on Kith's part had been strictly forbidden up until now, but Davena made no move or indication now that it would be unwarranted, instead keeping her eyes unwaveringly on the rogue's as Kithran traced the scar on the priestess' cheek that ran from her eye to the corner of her mouth.

Kith's finger lingered there a moment as she drew in closer, "Are you sure, Mistress?"

Davena's smile is wide and genuine, her voice husky.  "Very sure, darling," she replies.

Kithran kisses her tentatively, though at the feel of Davena's hands on her back she turns, pushing the priestess back onto the bed, and happily follows her down.

Wow.  Now, THAT would be the final turd icing on this shit cake of a situation, wouldn't it? 

He has read all of the game stuff so far, asked questions, etc. 

Throttle back, then?

I have summed Raven via the black magicks of Facebook Messenger.  He says the verily, he will post tomorrow. 

I may go ahead and do the other two flashback scenes today/tomorrow.  They are written and ready, I just don't want to push it too fast.

That's a pretty way to describe his condition.  Let's go with that. 

Not sure that aligns with being on her team now.  That's what we're doing, right?

I've been sharing some of this via email with Roger (aka Alacrity, the guy who kept the Inn alive several times when I sucked). 

He's picked and teased me a bit, but his best line yet... I should send everyone tee shirts with "Team D'hurgen" on them. 

That is legit therapy.  Davena has to come, though, so we can air our grievances.

After all of this collaboration back and forth, of us making sly little in jokes to one another in the Q&A while trying to keep this Big Awful Secret bottled up, of the exploration of the dark side of the human psyche... not to mention, some INCREDIBLE poetry along the way, Bree and I have both signed up for some therapy sessions.  I think if we get everyone involved, we can get a group rate!

Talk about nobility.  Thy name is Aranwen. 


Just to be very, very clear to everyone - this is an actual, real D&D game, not a freeform horror in D&D clothes.  I have tedious amounts of stats and dice rolls here. 

Yes, the deck was stacked against you in a way that led to your jailing (once we came up with the idea of Kith being brainwashed, I needed a sensiable way for time to pass to allow her to be adequately tortured), and yes, the deck was again stacked here to lead to the betrayal. 

But the fight in the cells was winnable (I could not belive how many saves you guys made).  Garn could have been held, Davena could have been killed, etc. 

I am an evil, horrible, manipulative person telling a disgusting, vile story... but I would not just cheat you guys into a given outcome. 

Just to be clear. 



Also.... ROFL @ foreign food.  I'm partial to sweet vidalia in anything.

>Davey's pretty cool, I think you all need to give her a chance.

Love the use of the pet name. 

I mean... Davena is suuuuper pragmatic, and would likely allow the party to join her service.  There might be some issues with Cedric's unreasonable religious beliefs, but by and large, I expect that she's be willing to iron out any differences and move forward in a spirit of cooperation.

re: However, I can safely say that several years ago I wouldn't have been able to handle it

I can say with the utmost confidence that had I run this adventure successfully the first time or two that I tried it, I could not have handled it going the places it has gone.  Following the script would have been tough enough. 

Yes, I've grown as a person... but again, you people have made this thing just come to life.

The fact that you three were writing KC&K while all of this was going on just took that emotional payload and turned the knob to somewhere around 23 on the typical 1-10 scale.  You guys were making this FAMILY that had been through so much together.  And here I was, orchestrating this horrible future...

The callbacks from Aranwen, the lines quoted to recall back to the death and loss featured in KC&K have brought so much reality to everything going on here.  I literally HURT for this make believe character.



For more "behind the curtain", here's an interesting thing that has happened along the way.

Back in the beginning, Davena was a pretty flat, two dimensional femme fatale.  Yes, she had carried one of these hybrid ghoul babies (thus, the scars), but more than anything else, she existed as a way for me to make a player feel grossed out that their character had not only had sex with the Big Bad Guy, that they also had been with someone who was pro ghoul hybrid on a personal level.  Ewwwwwwwwwww, amirite?

But as Bree and I have collaborated, Davena has come to life.  Her history is, quite honestly, pretty tragic, too.  Her mother was a priestess of Miellyah, was a good woman.  Davena was a good girl... until her mother was killed by the death cult, Davena was taken.  She was beaten, raped repeatedly, brainwashed herself. 

As I have pointed out to Bree - yes, Davena has incredible depths of evil, and has an imagination that makes her a genius at torture.  Except... who is giving her those ideas?  What does that say about ME? 

And it has prompted a lot of uncomfortable questions about the nature of evil.  I mean... when the flashbacks are done, I'm hoping that it will be tough to hate Kithran for the betrayal.  In the real world, truly strong people are broken and brainwashed.  In a fantasy world, where someone can be tortured with pain not even AVAILABLE in the real world, to the point that real people

 could never survive it... onlt to have that flesh magically put back together to allow the process to be repeated again and again and again and again... I don't know that ANYONE would survive with an intact mind. 

But if we can see that Kith is a victim and not hate her... what about Davena? 

D&D: fun game, deep ethical questions.

I told you that it would be bad.  I'm sorry.

The Tara/Davena confusion as the pain and emotional anguish wash through Kithran is some of the best roleplaying I've ever seen in my life. 

The last thing I want is for anyone to feel that this was a waste of time.  Well, that, and perhaps for them to have simply not enjoyed it. 

The first of three flashback posts from me is up (breebles already posted one last night, in the form of "Gratuitous Pt 2").  I will make the battle follow up post, but obviously, everyone needs a full chance to post first.  We need to know what Cedric plans to do, as lives very literally hang on his actions.



If I may, please allow me to take this opportunity to explain things. 

The plot I've been carrying around for an actual decade called for the adventurers to intercede on the behalf of an NPC, to save her from Davena en route to trying to save the world.  The plot was so very unsettling - or so I thought - with the disgusting rape ghouls, the bastard child of a god serving as an anchor to allow him to manifest in the world, etc.  Judging from the revulsion in the players back in the cabin when the woodsman's wife was raped by a ghoul, at how it went with Kith's earlier near miss, I felt that I had this twisted thing all figured out.

And then, some really bad tactical mistakes were made, and the party was going to die in the woods.  I didn't want the game to end that way; death or no, a TPK just felt so hollow. 

So I changed things.  Added the deux ex machina of Davena and Garn saving the party.  "But why would they do such a thing?" I asked myself.  "That's just silly.  They KNOW the party are a threat to their operation.  Why save them?"

What if Davena had reason to believe that Kithran were the young woman they had been seeking? 

So there it was.  Kith would be kidnapped.  The game would be ratcheted up

Breebles and I got to collaborating on Kith's torture, but at this point, the plan was still to have the party fight their way in to save her. 

And then... the Muse grabbed both of us.  Bree started talking about researching brainwashing and cults, linked me to a psychologist writing on how brainwashing occured.  It became apparent that in a fantasy world, with access to magic - particularly the sort of magic that would enable a torturer to push someone beyond the limits their bodies could take in the real world via divine healing - brainwashing would likely be an easier outcome. 

What if, by the time the party arrived, Kith had been brainwashed, if she betrayed them?

The layers and depth of emotional power that this added just begged to be brought to life.  And so... here we are. 


Again, I sincerely hope that, as dark and twisted and awful as this tale has become, that you all enjoy it.  Thank you all so very much; without the incredible level of play we have enjoyed since Reralae and Raven stepped in - to go with the incredible level of play that breebles brought - to go with the incredible level of play that Bromern and Eol have given from day one - this sort of story would have never been possible.  Or, at the least, the real emotional impact would not have happened, as we wouldn't have cared for the characters like we do now.