Posted with permission from Perune and Tirost both! Thank you!

On this very Saturday, June 23rd, at probably 10 or 10:30 EST after the moon mage meeting, Iskra will be (hopefully!) holding a meeting in the Blue Room in the Crossing Meeting Hall. She has a few things she'd like to say to people, if she can work up the nerve and finish preparing her notes. Notes are hard when you're blind, but luckily the Prydaen are used to oral tradition.

---

You think to Perune, "Hello agains mister Perune! Are you busy this morning?"
You project your thoughts to Perune.

You think to Tirost, "Hello agains mister Tirost! Are you busy this morning?"
You project your thoughts to Tirost.

[Tirost] [to you] "Working at the Jadewater Mansion at the moment. Shall I contact you later, Iskra?"

You think to Tirost, "Okay! I have questions about magic and mister Perune is busy I think... I don't know who else to ask."
You project your thoughts to Tirost.

[Tirost] [to you] "I'd be happy to help if I can! Are you looking for help with lunar magic?"

You think to Tirost, "Actually... I want to know what sorcery is, beyond mixing mana types. Why it is harmful... how it is harmful."
You project your thoughts to Tirost.

You think to Tirost, "All I know is that it IS, and if I can't explain why or how, then no one will listen to me..."
You project your thoughts to Tirost.

[Tirost] [to you] "I'd be happy to talk about sorcery with you. It's my research specialty, but you should know that my perspective on it is unorthodox. If that doesn't bother you, you're welcome to by the mansion now, or I can contact you later to discuss it?"

[The Crossing, Eylhaar Bane Road]
Looking north, scanning from east to west, you can see the profiles of the Paladins' and Clerics' Guilds rising above the shops and homes that dot the neighborhood like patches of a crazy quilt. To the south, you can barely discern the top story of Academy Asemath, with its white marble friezes in high relief. A row of prickly privet hedges, their intertwining branches creating a formidable fence, line both sides of the way.
You also see a metal ivy lattice-work gate.
Also here: Mentor Tirost.

Tirost smiles.

Tirost bobs a brief, respectful bow towards you.

Tirost asks, "How are you, Iskra?"

You quirk both ears outward in surprise.

Tirost puts his crystal in his storyteller's bag.

You exclaim, "Hello!"

Tirost chuckles.

You reach out and touch a metal ivy lattice-work gate.

You ask, "Is this Jadewater Mansion?"

Tirost says, "You're in the right place."

Tirost smiles.

Tirost says, "It is."

You say, "I'm here to see mister Tirost..."

Tirost laughs!

You angle your ears forward in curiosity.

Tirost laughingly asks, "Don't recognize my voice or smell, Iskra?"

You nibble your lip thoughtfully.

Tirost grins at you.

You exclaim, "Oh... I guess not! Sorry!"

You shift uncomfortably for a moment.

Tirost laughs softly, trying to hide his amusement.

Tirost says, "No worries at all."

You say, "People sometimes sound different inside my head..."

Tirost chuckles.

Tirost nods.

You lean on your quarterstaff.

You say, "Um..."

Tirost asks, "Anything I can help with with regards to sorcery?"

You say, "If you have time to explain what you think it is..."

Tirost nods to you.

Tirost says, "I'll do my best."

Tirost says, "So, you were right when you said that sorcery is currently defined by mixing mana types to cast spells."

Tirost says, "There are two different types of sorcery commonly recongized right now, and some branches even beyond those."

Tirost says, "The main two branches are called high and low sorcery."

You squirm.

Tirost says, "The low type is more or less using spells from a non-native mana type. So if I tried to cast a spell that is powered by holy or life mana, for instance."

Tirost says, "High sorcery is a bit different. It tends to bend patterns that we consider fundamental to reality."

You frown.

Tirost asks, "Does that help some?"

Tirost laughingly asks, "Or am I just being confusing?"

You say, "I understand so far."

Tirost nods to you.

You ask, "Life and elemental magic mixed together is something that necromancers use, isn't it?"

Tirost says, "Yes."

You ask, "Why does that make bad things happen?"

Tirost says, "There are a few theories about that. I'll explain a few."

Tirost says, "One idea is that it diminishes the power of the immortals to regulate and protect our plane."

[Perune] [to you] "Not terribly. How can I help you Iskra?"

Tirost says, "Another idea is that using sorcery is somehow beneficial to demons. like Maelshyve."

Tirost says, "Even if those were untrue, sorcery of any kind can be extremely dangerous."

You think to Perune, "I wish to understand more about how and why sorcery is bad and what it does. I am talking to mister Tirost about it now in front of Jadewater Mansion... but I think I would like to know what you have to say about it too."You project your thoughts to Perune.

You point at yourself.

You say, "I know that."

You rub your head.

Tirost nods to you.

[Perune] [to you] "Well, this is kind of an involved topic. First, there is really two definitive branches of sorcery to the average mage. "

Tirost asks, "As I recall, you had some bad history with sorcery. Is that right?"

You give a slight nod.

You say, "I blinded myself."

Tirost slowly asks, "You... blinded yourself? By using sorcery?"

Tirost asks, "The sort of thing that empaths couldn't cure?"

You sadly say, "Yes..."

Tirost ponders.

[Perune] [to you] "The first is cross-casting. That is, you are using spells of another mana type. This is considered generally acceptable and isn't known to harm the world, though it can be said that trying to use mana you can't see is considered dangerous to your long term mind-state."

You say, "Life... and elemental mana."

Tirost says, "I see - err... I understand."

Tirost frowns.

You shift uncomfortably for a moment.

You say, "You can say see... I don't mind."

(Tirost chuckles nervously.)

Tirost says, "Ok. Sorry, I just didn't want to seem like I was trying to make light of anything."

You trill softly, ears relaxing minutely against your head.

You say, "I say it sometimes, too."

Tirost smiles.

Tirost nods to you.

Tirost says, "That makes me feel better."

You exclaim, "It makes me feel better when I can make a good joke, too!"

You nibble your lip thoughtfully.

Tirost grins at you.

You say, "Both theories about sorcery are bad."

Tirost says, "So those are the main reasons why sorcery is considered so dangerous. It's also been preached against by Father Soraent and other leaders of the Temple."

[Perune] [to you] "The second is High Sorcery, which means you are using spell patterns that require more than one mana type. These type of spells exist only to break natural laws to achieve some goal the mage foolishly believes must happen to suit his or her needs."

Tirost says, "And it's clear that the gods frown on high sorcery. They even strike down practitioners, and revoke their favor."

A shiver runs up your spine.

Tirost says, "But low sorcery, on the other hand..."

Tirost says, "I personally think it is a valid area of magical research, and can be very helpful if treated with respect."

You ask, "Why?"

Tirost says, "They way we currently percieve mana is very limited."

Tirost says, "It has been formed through generations of rote practice that has been heavily policed by the guilds."

[Perune] [to you] "Multi-mana patterns all have negative results for our reality. Necromancy beckons the work of the demonic, and seems to be, by definition, tied to said beings. Teleological Sorcery works at breaking the barriers of Fate and damages said metaphysical function."

Tirost says, "However, in order to learn and develop new spells, and to understand magic better, some experimentation is necessary."

Tirost says, "I believe sorcery is one of the best things to research to push magical innovation - but it must be practiced safely, of course."

[Perune] [to you] "Hylomorphic sorcery typically harms the user and changes what it means for an Element to be said Element. As in Fire may no longer react like Fire, but like some sort of pseudo-Fire that is extremely bad for our world."

Tirost says, "Or as safely as it can be."

You think to Perune, "Is that... what I did, do you think?"
You project your thoughts to Perune.

[Perune] [to you] "All of these difficult multi-mana spells seem to, over time, weaken our reality, and not for the better."

You twitch an ear nervously.

[Perune] [to you] "I can't say. What exactly did you do?"

Tirost says, "Of course, other people feel that saftey is always preferable to knowledge."

Tirost says, "And if you feel that way, you are certainly in good company."

Tirost chuckles.

You mutter something into the air about not good enough.

Tirost says, "I just feel differently because of my experiences."

Tirost ponders.

You think to Perune, "I did... I am not sure. It might have been a healing spell... with lightning..."
You project your thoughts to Perune.

Tirost asks, "What do you mean, Iskra?"

You say, "Very few people, um... are kind to me, when I warn traders about selling scrolls to people willy-nilly..."

You say, "I think it is just miss Navesi and mother Whiteburn so far."

You say, "Everyone else called me an it."

Tirost frowns.

Tirost says, "That is very impolite, however, I think most people wish for the freedom to practice sorcery as they see fit, though some are almost surely reckless."

You ask, "Do you know... how sorcery is damaging the web of fate, and reality?"

[Perune] [to you] "Then possibly, yes. Spells that typically heal a person are the result of Life mana. If you have mixed elemental and life mana you have likely performed Necromancy. You should visit an Empath or a Cleric to determine the level of corruption and how you can be healed."

Tirost asks, "Only guesses, but may I be honest with you, Iskra?"

[Perune] [to you] "Though I would be careful in explaining the situation, you must profess your ignorance of what you did."

You shrug.

You ask, "Have you been so far?"

Tirost says, "I have."

You think to Perune, "I am still mostly ignorant of what I did... but not of the consequences. I know it might be healed someday, but it hurts, and I'm not ready to be hurt that much."
You project your thoughts to Perune.

Tirost says, "But I'm trying not to overwhelm you with my own strange opinions on these matters."

Tirost chuckles.

Tirost asks, "Let me ask you this, Iskra: What is the Web of Fate in your mind?"

You say, "I've been overwhelmed for the last few years... I think I'm okay with it..."

Tirost chuckles.

Tirost nods to you.

You slowly and deliberately empty your filled lungs.

[Perune] [to you] "Sometimes corruption declines in time. Your body and its natural works righting itself, perhaps. Either way, you see the appropriate healers to determine how well off you are."

You say, "I am working on that. Right now, I think it is... right now. Fate is... what we do right now. It becomes the past, but it is not the future. To say fate is the future is to say we have no choices."

Tirost says, "I agree."

You quirk both ears outward in surprise.

You say, "Oh."

Tirost laughs!

Tirost asks, "Do you believe we have choices?"

You say, "Yes. I have to."

Tirost smiles.

You think to Perune, "I am! And I will."
You project your thoughts to Perune.

Tirost says, "I believe the same."

You think to Perune, "How do you think sorcery is damaging the web of fate and all that?"
You project your thoughts to Perune.

Tirost says, "So the concept of the Web of Fate is more metaphorical to me, a phrase to describe something, rather than something that acutally exists."

[Perune] [to you] "How is it damaging it or what the damage look like?"

Tirost says, "I think the term comes from the Gnomish captain of the formerly mechanical arachnid that comes through town every few years."

You think to Perune, "Both would help me..."
You project your thoughts to Perune.

Tirost says, "So perhaps the Web of Fate is a reference to something Harawep uses or makes to shape our plane."

You nod.

[Perune] [to you] "I am not a Seer so this would be difficult to explain. Miskton of the Ilithi Court could serve you better if you want serious details. However, the sorcerous spells which effect the Web are doing things that would require "breaking" or "twisting" probability to function."

Tirost says, "And if that's the case, then it's possible high sorcery might weaken that ability of Harawep."

[Perune] [to you] "If you imagine it as an actual web, then it would be like cutting off various strands, or twisting them so they end up at an unlikely "node" of other strands."

Tirost says, "But, in my opinion, it is certainly possible that some clerics have interpreted the displeasure of the gods toward high sorcery as something catastrophic for our plane in it's own right."

Tirost says, "But that may not actually be the case."

Tirost laughingly says, "Of course, I can't be sure one way or the other."

You think to Perune, "Could it make the past become the future?"
You project your thoughts to Perune.

[Perune] [to you] "Over time, this damages the "web" itself. Probabilities are directly tied to the aptly named Plane of Probability and all the creatures within. Likely their existance is some important part of that."

Thin streamers of cloud float in a mostly clear sky as the sun rises high above them.

You get a thoughtful expression on your face.

The last few clouds in the sky above slowly drift away.

[Perune] [to you] "I doubt it. In my opinion, the starting "node" from which possibilities would branch out, would always be in the now."

Tirost smiles at you.

[Perune] [to you] "You should seek out Miskton and Mistanna if you'd like more details."

Tirost says, "Sorcery, magic and the gods are all very mysterious phenomena to us mortals."

Tirost chuckles.

You think to Perune, "Okay! Thank you, I will try to remember to do that. Mister Fariden sent mister Digmo to talk to me earlier. I asked for someone kind like you to explain other things to me."
You project your thoughts to Perune.

[Perune] [to you] "Probability and predictions are not really my area of study."

You ask, "Is knowledge necessary?"

Tirost says, "For and Meraud, it is, but not for everyone and everything."

Tirost says, "Some perfer to follow rules, and others instinct."

You say, "I mean, um... more knowledge than what we have now."

You ask, "With magic... isn't it good enough?"

Tirost says, "I'm not sure."

You ask, "What more can we dream of to do with magic, that would make the world any better than it is now?"

Tirost says, "There is still much suffering and many threats in the world."

Tirost says, "We can become better healers and protectors."

Tirost says, "We can learn more about other planes - which are useful, friendly, dangerous..."

[Perune] [to you] "Actually, now that I recall.. there has been one incident of "time travel", that I recall. It was Lunar involved."

Tirost says, "And we can learn more about the gods and demons."

You flick one ear back as though listening for something.

You ask, "Are you a kind person, mister Tirost?"

Tirost ponders.

Tirost says, "I think that is something that must be answered by others, but I hope so."

You think to Perune, "Oh? Do tell!"
You project your thoughts to Perune.

Tirost quietly says, "Though I've made many mistakes in my life."

Tirost rubs a black steel mourning band inlaid with ivory lilies.

You ask, "What do you do when you get hurt?"

Tirost frowns.

You tilt your head with a curious expression.

You ask, "What do you do when you know who it was that hurt you?"

Tirost says, "Seek the comfort of friends, or seek to lose myself in poetry or the beautiful dance of combat."

Tirost says, "That is a harder question..."

You ask, "Combat... against what?"

[Perune] [to you] "Some associates of House Turmar stole some old books from the Turmar research facilities and used them to breach time, somehow. I think the issue was solved though."

Tirost says, "Wild creatures, mostly, though sometimes enemies of the people I love, things that invade, and similar foes."

You give a slight nod.

Tirost says, "I think, if someone hurt me... I'd seek justice, as best I could."

Tirost says, "Sometimes, I can understand why they hurt me, and then I try to forgive."

Tirost says, "Sometimes, I can't understand, and then I seek revenge."

You say, "Understand."

You chew on your lip, looking deep in concentration.

Tirost nods.

You ask, "That's all it takes?"

Tirost laughs!

Tirost shakes his head.

Tirost says, "No. I am a deeply flawed person, Iskra. You should ask wiser people for advice, I think."

Tirost smiles at you.

You think to Perune, "That is interesting... I was mostly thinking about the web being balled up like a cloth and the ends touching... New web becoming old web. I could see how that would be dangerous, with all the bad things that happened in the past. If they were to happen again..."
You project your thoughts to Perune.

You ask, "Do you have darkness in your heart, mister Tirost?"

Tirost quietly says, "Yes. I do."

Tirost frowns.

You nod.

Tirost says, "But light as well."

Tirost smiles.

You gaze at the heavens, taking careful note of the current weather. You sense the weather will progress as follows:
You predict that the skies will be partly cloudy.
After that, clear skies are coming.
After that, the skies will be partly cloudy.
After that, clear skies are coming.

You say, "I understand."

Tirost gazes thoughtfully at you.

You say, "I have a lot to say to people. I want to say it all at once."

Tirost smiles at you.

Tirost nods.

Tirost says, "I think I can understand that feeling."

You say, "There's a place for gathering, meetings... I think I will ask people to come and listen to what I have to say."

[Perune] [to you] "Perhaps their sorcery did do something similar. But I think it will mostly remain a secret. The people who keep such rare finds typically do not share them."

Tirost nods to you.

You ask, "Would you come?"

Tirost says, "I would."

You trill softly, ears relaxing minutely against your head.

Tirost smiles.

Tirost asks, "You will let me know when you plan to speak?"

You say, "I think soon."

Tirost nods to you.

You ask, "Perhaps... four anlaen?"

Tirost says, "I will definitley come, if I am able."

You perk up your ears happily.

Tirost smiles.

You ask, "Do you practice sorcery, mister Tirost, or just research it?"

Tirost says, "I practice it as well."

You ask, "What kind?"

The heat from the sun grows rather intense.

Tirost says, "I practice both low sorcery and the type called Hylomorphic."

Tirost says, "All other types are forbidden by Meraud."

You ask, "Is it entirely necessary for you to continue doing that?"

Tirost says, "No."

Tirost says, "But to me, it's important."

You take a deep breath.

You ask, "Why do you do it?"

You ask, "What are... your goals?"

You tilt your head to one side.

Tirost says, "I think you know that I am a poet - an artist of words? I am also an artist of magic..."

Tirost says, "To me, the pursuit of one's full potential is the greatest thing we can do to honor the gods and our ancestors..."

You think to Perune, "How does Hylomorphic sorcery damage our world?"
You project your thoughts to Perune.

Tirost says, "Who are responsible for us getting to experience this sad and beautiful life."

Tirost smiles.

Tirost says, "To do anything less, would be failing in my duty to them."

You thoughtfully say, "Fire that doesn't act like fire..."

Tirost smiles.

[Perune] [to you] "It alters the nature of Elements. Making them do things that is damaging to things we need to live. You might have a problem if you damage the nature of water in such a way that drinking it is no longer an option."

You think to Perune, "Is it permanent?"
You project your thoughts to Perune.

Tirost says, "Sounds very interesting to me."

Tirost grins at you.

You ask, "What would it act like? What would it do? When would it stop?"

[Perune] [to you] "Like most sorcery, it is the matter of repeated use. Over time, the damage may be irreversible."

Tirost says, "Difficult to say without observation, I'm afraid."

You say, "Without doing it."

Tirost says, "It would depend on its properties, I suppose. I could imagine a fire that burned water instead of air and combustable fuel..."

You say, "I have a question..."

Tirost says, "Sure."

Tirost smiles at you.

You ask, "Potential... full potential. That is everything you can do and be, right?"

You ask, "There must be a limit, still?"

Tirost says, "Something like, yes - or maybe more the like the best you could do and be, from the perspective of the gods."

Tirost nods to you.

Tirost says, "Yes, I believe you are right."

You ask, "What if this is it?"

Tirost chuckles.

You ask, "The gods are angered by sorcery. You want to use it to do more than you can now. To please them... and your ancestors. What did your ancestors have, to please theirs?"

Tirost says, "My ancestors fought many wars - Meraud too, became manifest to protect people against Lyras..."

Tirost says, "None of them were satisfied with watching terrible things happen..."

Tirost says, "And so I, too, must strive to protect and nurture what I love."

Tirost says, "And sorcery is a path that, for me, helps me achieve that end."

You slowly and deliberately empty your filled lungs.

You say, "You are a kind person, mister Tirost."

Tirost beams at you! What a warm feeling!

You say, "You have enemies that are not."

Tirost says, "You are very kind as well, Iskra, and very intelligent and thoughtful."

You say, "But I think you're both heading down the same path."

Tirost ponders.

Tirost asks, "Both me and my enemies?"

*A few passersby glance in the direction of your conversation, looking a bit nervous.*

Tirost frowns.

Tirost glances at you.

You say, "In pursuing sorcery... yes. They will do it recklessly, to hurt people. You would do it carefully, to protect. But every little bit... mister Perune says its damaging. Like... tiny scars... over time... you may have nothing left to protect."

Tirost nods to you.

Tirost says, "That is indeed Perune's perspective."

Tirost says, "And I respect it, and consider it often."

Tirost says, "Iskra..."

You tilt your head with a curious expression.

Tirost says, "It seems others are starting to show concern with our topic of conversation..."

You say, "Good, I think..."

Tirost asks, "Perhaps we could pick it up another time? Somewhere more discreet?"

Tirost chuckles.

Tirost says, "It could also be bad - for me at least."

You quirk one ear sideways in confusion.

You ask, "People showing concern shouldn't be bad for you, should it?"

Tirost laughs!

Tirost says, "I wish that were the case."

Tirost says, "But reputation is very important, and I must fight my open nature, and be respectful to people's concerns."

You ask, "I don't hear anything on the gweth... um... did I miss something while I was sleeping last night?"

Tirost says, "Like Mister Perune."

Tirost shakes his head.

Tirost says, "No, but people have been glancing at us as we speak."

You say, "I didn't think I was thinking my thoughts aloud..."

You sniff the air around you.

Tirost asks, "Can you sense the people nearby?"

You say, "There are always people coming and going in the streets..."

Tirost says, "Yes, and some have heard us, I think."

Tirost says, "But, in any case, I must be on my way for a while."

You say, "Um... okay."

You say, "Mister Tirost..."

Tirost says, "I truly hope I'll be able to hear you speak soon, if you still plan to do so."

Tirost asks, "Yes?"

You say, "Dream of two worlds."

Tirost ponders.

You say, "One where you continue practicing, and one where you don't."

Tirost quietly says, "I will, Iskra."

Tirost says, "Take care."

Tirost smiles at you.

Tirost is no longer officially acting as a Mentor.

You say, "And tell me, when you have dreamed all there is to dream... which one you want most."

You wave.

Tirost smiles.

You say, "You too, mister Tirost..."

Tirost gazes thoughtfully at you.

Tirost wanders off.

You slowly and deliberately empty your filled lungs.

You clench your ironwood quarterstaff tightly until your knuckles go white.

I'm guessing thats PM as there is nothing on DRS calendar for a moonie meeting?

Another discussion was had that I thought was worth sharing!

---

You think to Whiteburn, "Mother Whiteburn... are you busy?"
You project your thoughts to Whiteburn.

[Whiteburn] [to you] "I am not. Is there something I can assist you with?"

You think to Whiteburn, "I, um, I have questions about the kind of high sorcery clerics use... do you know anything about it?"
You project your thoughts to Whiteburn.

[Whiteburn] [to you] "Ah... that. Truth be told, I do not. The knowledge that there are those who would twist Holy mana in such an unnatural fashion is disturbing to me. From where or whom did you hear that this was occurring? "

You think to Whiteburn, "Mister Perune or mister Tirost... they mentioned it, I think... or someone else did. I've been thinking so much, everything's a blur now. But I know I heard it..."
You project your thoughts to Whiteburn.

[Whiteburn] [to you] "I see. This is troublesome, indeed. I do not practice that wicked art and it disheartens me greatly to hear that there are those even among the Holy Order who would see the Web of Fate poisoned for their own selfish gain. "

You think to Whiteburn, "If you find anything out, I would like to know what it does... I will tell you when I find out, too."
You project your thoughts to Whiteburn.

[Whiteburn] [to you] "I find there to be little worth in the understanding of blasphemous magics that should have never seen the light of day, nor the comfort of night. If I find this knowledge, it would be duty to see it purged for the betterment of all than to share it with others."

You think to Whiteburn, "Of course! I mean, um, you know... I want to know how it does dangerous things, so I can tell people the consequences before they do it... and make them stop..."
You project your thoughts to Whiteburn.

[Whiteburn] [to you] "There are those who thirst for the taste of the forbidden for its own sake. Explaining the danger to them will only spark the curiosity that will impel them to immolate themselves. "

You think to Whiteburn, "But if I don't know the danger, then I can't explain it, and people will say there isn't any, because I don't know of it! Or, um, is what I know already enough, maybe?"
You project your thoughts to Whiteburn.

[Whiteburn] [to you] "I would be inclinded to believe the latter. That is, whatever small benefit or personal pain any sort of sorcery may cause the magician who casts it is of little consequence when measured beside the source of evil inherent in what is Sorcerous. "

[Whiteburn] [to you] "The hubris of conjuring what was not meant to be solely for one's own greed and lust for power... the weakening of the Web of Fate and our Plane of Abiding... the assault against the balance of the natural world..."

[Whiteburn] [to you] "As you say, little by little, scars build. The sickness grows more insidious, twisting into the heart of our world."

You think to Whiteburn, "So I don't have to ask people about sorcery anymore...?"
You project your thoughts to Whiteburn.

[Whiteburn] [to you] "I only advise caution, child. There are many who wander into the abyss with the purest of hopes. Sorcery corrupts all that it touches, even the minds of the innocent. "

You think to Whiteburn, "I understand that better than you know, mother Whiteburn..."
You project your thoughts to Whiteburn.

..............

Whiteburn just arrived.

Whiteburn gently says, "Good even to you, child."

Whiteburn says, "It pleases me that you would take the time to visit these sacred halls."

You trill softly, ears relaxing minutely against your head.

You say, "It's nice and quiet here... I come here to help me think..."

Whiteburn says, "The Thirteen will always welcome you for contemplation within Their abode."

You relax your ears for a moment, letting them sag slightly.

You say, "Why are you here... oh, that's a silly question, isn't it."

Whiteburn chortles softly and draws tiny circles in the air with the tip of her tail.

Whiteburn says, "I have come to perform my rogations and to meditate before the altar of Drogor."

You ask, "Rogations?"

You nibble your lip thoughtfully.

You thoughtfully ask, "Drogorations?"

Whiteburn says, "Prayers. Supplication... the performing of rituals and offerings that may be pleasing to Him."

You say, "Ahhh..."

You ask, "Is it true you need to feed a whole olvi to a shark?"

Whiteburn lightheartedly says, "That depends on the size and appetite of the shark."

You get a thoughtful expression on your face.

You ask, "Can I follow you?"

You make a grab for Whiteburn's arm, missing by a mile.

You shift uncomfortably for a moment.

(Whiteburn carefully reaches out and holds Iskra's paw.)

You relax your ears for a moment, letting them sag slightly.

Whiteburn's group moves widdershins down the hallway.

Inquisitor Whiteburn's group went through a narrow archway.

[Eyes of the Thirteen, Eluned's Shrine]
Glistening like cool water, a blue crystal platform leads toward a coral statue resting deeper within the Shrine of the Ocean Mother. Fashioned from the same material as the passage underfoot, a great oval dome curves down to cradle the shrine in the deep blue light found within the heart of the sea. An indigo glaze marks the center of the colored half-sphere above the far statue, as though this were the eye of Eluned herself, gazing down upon the High Altar below.
You also see a sun-bleached driftwood altar decorated with strands of albatross feathers, a narrow archway and a crude altar cobbled together from salt-stained oak planks.
Also here: Inquisitor Whiteburn who is emanating a malevolent holy aura.
Obvious exits: none.

You say, "I would like to learn what all that is..."

Whiteburn says, "We have arrived."

(Whiteburn guides Iskra's paw to the surface of the crude altar, making sure to avoid the teeth.)

You say, "Ooooh..."

You reach out and touch a crude altar cobbled together from salt-stained oak planks.
A tingle runs through your skin as you touch a crude altar cobbled together from salt-stained oak planks.

You say, "Tingly."

Whiteburn reverently says, "This is the altar of Drogor, Lord of Storms. The wood that constructs this altar was gathered from shipwrecks. Drogor must be appeased, lest His anger sweep through the land with the fury of a thousand lashes and His fury tear even the greatest ships asunder in an instant."

Whiteburn wistfully says, "This is but a reminder of His Divine Wrath."

You weakly say, "Golly."

Whiteburn grows extremely still as she turns an intensely calculating look on you.

You sniff the air around you.

You say, "It's very salty here..."

Whiteburn says, "Yes. Drogor's domain is that of ocean and sea."

You ask, "Drogor likes lightning, too?"

Whiteburn gleefully says, "Drogor is the lightning! The peal of thunder that causes your soul itself to shudder and the furious squall that scours the countryside."

You quietly ask, "Drogor is... lightning?"

You exclaim, "I've been casting Drogor?!"

Whiteburn says, "But also the mist that gathers upon the sea at dawn... the gentle rain that provides nourishment to crops once the harshness of the Summer Season has come to pass."

Whiteburn says to you, "Drogor commands lightning to strike, but Drogor is also the essense of lightning itself."

Your ears droop dejectedly as you lose yourself in a moment of melancholy.

Whiteburn says, "That lightning that a warrior mage wields is created through the harnessing of mana, which is not quite the same phenomenon as a bolt from the heavens."

You slowly and deliberately empty your filled lungs.

You weakly say, "Oh... good..."

You say, "For a moment I thought I did something even more terrible than I have..."

Whiteburn says, "Magical lightning is, in essence, the effort to emulate that which the Gods command to be with naught but Divine will made manifest."

You tilt your head to one side.

You say, "Ummm... I have a few silly questions..."

Whiteburn says, "Ask."

You slowly and deliberately empty your filled lungs.

Whiteburn bows her head and chants a psalm.

You ask, "If what I did was hylomorphic sorcery... and that kind makes the gods' power weaker... will they be able to... um... help me fix it? Or will they not have the power... because what I did isn't part of the plane of abiding...?"

Whiteburn says, "This thought that the Gods' power is weakened is somewhat erroneous. I am not sure when or how this belief began circulating, but it is not so much that the Gods' own power grows weak as it is that Their ability to freely and willfully manifest said power in our plane becomes more tenuous the more wracked with sorcery and weakened this plane becomes."

You ask, "Oh... so its harder for them to do stuff... like when there's not much mana and you can't cast as strong a spell as you used to...?"

Whiteburn says, "The Gods choose to act through people such as myself - Clerics, Priests, and other such servants of the Divine. Their will is filtered through us to touch the world in a manner that is pleasing to them. The reason for this, the reason why They do not act directly upon the world Themselves unless situations are particularly dire, is that Divine Intervention does not come without consequence."

Whiteburn says to you, "You are correct in a sense. However, it is more a matter of Them being unwilling to act more than an inability."

Whiteburn says, "The Plane of Abiding is meant to containt that which was made to exist on the Plane of Abiding."

You quietly ask, "So sorcery is more like pouring chocolate sauce on a leg of lamb... You can still pick it up, but do you really want to get your fingers THAT sticky?"

Whiteburn says, "It is... more like..."

Whiteburn makes a dry clucking noise in the back of her throat.

Whiteburn says, "Imagine an ant crawling along the ground. Imagine that, for whatever reason, you wished to pick up the ant and place it elsewhere. It is a very small creature and your claws are sharp. It is suddenly in the air, being manipulated in a way that it would never be otherwise. It may be hurt. It may not survive this displacement with all of its facilities intact. It may be worse off in a new environment it was not meant to live in. So it is better not to interfere with that creature."

You give a slight nod.

Whiteburn says, "The Immortals, despite what people may say about the Dark Aspects, love Their children. They are good, and have infused our plane with meaning and the capacity for life that we may live and thrive. They do not wish to hurt us, or hurt this world They have made. The integrity of this world weakens further day by day with the usage of sorcery, making it more likely that severe harm may visit us."
Cheerfully sharing years of intense training, Whiteburn gives you several keen insights into Stealth that you did not expect.

You nod emphatically.

You ask, "I have another question. Mother Whiteburn... if someone told you that you had two years left to live, what would you do?"

Whiteburn says, "To my last breath, I would work to exterminate the seed of Necromancy and spread the will of Drogor. I pray that, when the time comes for my soul to rest within my Lord's domain, that my actions may have brought Him pride... and inspired others to serve Him as I have."

You trill softly at Whiteburn.

You say, "That's a good answer. I don't know what I'd do, yet."

Whiteburn says, "For years I have been honing my body, learning how to fight as the shark, that I may be my Lord's three-pronged spear to thrust deep within the heart of Necromancy and wound it gravely for years to come."

Whiteburn says to you, "It is rare that a person intrinsically knows their life's purpose."

You say, "I was pretty sure my purpose was to make rainclouds... I mucked that one up pretty bad..."

Whiteburn says, "Mortal life is beautiful and fragile and as intricate and tangled as the spider's web. It takes but a single moment to change its shape."

You sniffle.

Whiteburn says to you, "Perhaps the Gods had a different purpose for you."

You ask, "My lectures?"

Whiteburn says, "That could be part of it."

You say, "Lecture... unless I find more to say..."

You gulp.

You say, "Maybe I'm not meant to be a G'nar Pethian..."

You say, "I probably shouldn't be doing magic at all..."

Whiteburn says to you, "There is no inherent evil in magic. However, only you may make that decision for yourself."

You ask, "Would you still pray to Drogor if every time you did, a tiny bit of you got eaten by crabs?"

You tilt your head with a curious expression.

Whiteburn unflinchingly says, "Absolutely."

You take in a great breath of air.

You say, "Goll-EE."

Whiteburn lightheartedly says, "I pray that the crabs might find my insignificant flesh palatable."

With startlingly clear words, Whiteburn explains some advanced concepts of Stealth. You listen, amazed at how much you still have left to learn.

You exclaim, "What if they were demon crabs!"

You flail your arms about.

Whiteburn severely asks you, "Do you speak in jest?"

You quietly say, "Um... I'm not sure. Maybe a little bit. Sorry."

Whiteburn firmly says, "Drogor is absolutely, in no way, to be compared with what is demonic. Demons are no laughing matter. They would consume all that we know and love if it were not for the protection of the Gods."

You gulp.

You say, "Yes'm... sorry'm..."

You rub your head.

Whiteburn says, "The Gods care for Their children. A demon cares only to consume and to destroy. If the people of this plane are as ants in my previous analogy, a demon making itself manifest on the plane of abiding would be akin to digging the earth out from beneath the ant in a great clod and hurling it to the four winds."

You frown.

Whiteburn says to you, "But to further elaborate on the answer to your previous question, prayer is not genuine if it is not given freely. Faith that lasts only as long as one is personally comfortable and happy is untrue."

You utter a soft, short trill.

Whiteburn says, "I have faith in my Lord of Storms to guide me along life's path and thus I have no fear for what may be, because I know He watches over me and walks beside me. Forever forward, I go as He."

You nibble your lip thoughtfully.

You say, "That sounds really lovely..."

Whiteburn says to you, "Harawep watches over you, too. She is weaving the skein of your life as we speak."

You mutter to yourself.

You sniffle.

You say, "I know..."

Whiteburn says to you, "Your heart resonates with sadness, child."

You say, "I just wish she had more silk..."

Whiteburn grows extremely still as she turns an intensely calculating look on you.

Whiteburn deliberately says to you, "Even the most intricate of weavings must be finished at some point."

Whiteburn asks you, "Does this occupy your thoughts?"

You nod.

You say, "I, um... have a bit more to think about than I did at the start of my lecture..."

Whiteburn says to you, "How old are you, child? If you will pardon the question."

You say, "I should be... twenty-one... but I don't look like it anymore."

You rub your chest.

Whiteburn asks you, "Empathic modification... for one who is so young?"

Whiteburn says, "Ah, forgive me. That was imprudent."

You quietly say, "I didn't ask for it..."

You say, "I was in a coma... I don't know why they did it to me..."

Whiteburn says, "I will not pry. Forgive me, if you can."

You exclaim, "It's okay!"

You wave your hand distractedly.

You ask, "I get to stay cute a little longer, right?"

You bat your eyelashes.

Whiteburn awkwardly says, "Yes, well. I suppose that is... true."

You proudly stand up your ears for a moment.

Whiteburn asks you, "Have you imagined the two worlds you proposed to us?"

You say, "All the time."

You say, "And one of them keeps getting scarier and scarier every day."

Whiteburn says to you, "Yes. However..."

You say, "I get to grow old in one of them... I get to protect my Hub with lightning, and everything is nice and happy most of the time... and in the other world... there are storms of fire, and undead everywhere, and demons, and zenzics..."

Whiteburn gazes sadly at you.

Whiteburn seriously says to you, "If we allow the world to progress to that second state... there may no longer even be a world."

Whiteburn asks you, "Do you know how the zenzics first came to our plane?"

You shake your head.

You say, "Necromancy, someone said... mister Perune or Tirost..."

You say, "That's all I know... the weakening of our plane..."

Whiteburn says to you, "Necromancy, Sorcery, perversions of fate, unncessary, vane inter-planar conjurations... over the years, out of hubris, out of greed, out of self-importance... people of all of the so-called civilized races have poisoned Harawep's Web slowly but surely."

You shudder.

Whiteburn says, "The corruption was made manifest in the form of rifts in reality, through which maddened creatures spilled forth into our plane from their own wounded world. The zenzics and the starcrashers."

You ask, "Their world is wounded...?"

You quirk both ears outward in surprise.

Whiteburn says, "When a moon mage reaches out to touch and manipulate the web of fate, the vibrations caused by his changing of a single thread may cause untold damage to another thread he cannot see."

You fidget nervously.

You ask, "Um, and what is manipulating the web of fate? What things should I avoid...?"

Whiteburn says to you, "I do not know for sure, as I am not a lunar magician. However, I might posit that you should only admire the weavings of the web of fate and not attempt to change it. Or, only choose to change it if you believe it is absolutely necessary."

Whiteburn says, "Remember what I said about the Gods not wishing to hurt this world by not acting directly upon it unless in times of crisis? Think about your influence upon the strands of the Web of Fate in the same way."

You tilt your head to one side.

You say, "Hrmmmmm."

You ask, "It's not tampering too much, is it... to see someone get hurt in one future, and choose a future where that doesn't happen, is it?"

Whiteburn asks you, "How does one choose one's future?"

You say, "Um... I'm not sure yet. I always thought it would be something easy to do... I heard about moon mages having visions..."

You say, "I thought it would be like a dream... one of the ones where you realize you're dreaming."

You say, "I haven't had any visions yet... I don't know if I can."

You rub your eyes.

You ask, "Then you wake up, and the same thing is happening, but you know what's going to happen if you do what you did in your dream...?"

Whiteburn says, "If you choose to walk a different path, then that is simply a natural fork in the web's path. That does not seem unnatural to me."

You perk up your ears happily.

You say, "That's what I thought."

You say, "I'm not going to take something that already happened and make it unhappen. Though I wish I could."

Whiteburn says to you, "That is an understandable desire. However, even that which causes us pain and grief comes not without greater purpose. It is, in itself, part of the weaving."

You ask, "I'm not going to make lady Harawep weave a different web... I think a moon mage's vision is just a glimpse at a different one she could have weaved us...?"

Whiteburn refreshes your memory and continues to train you in the Stealth skill.

You say, "And maybe some parts... oh."

You blink.

You ask, "We're each a different strand, aren't we?"

You say, "We all make the web together."

Whiteburn eagerly says to you, "Yes, precisely."

You ask, "If I have a future where I trip and hit my nose, and a future where I don't, then how can my strand of the web of fate do anything to anyone else's life?"

Whiteburn says, "In the future where you fall and injure yourself, perhaps you go to an Empath. Perhaps on the way to the Empath, you come across a sobbing child who has lost something. Perhaps you may help that child. Your action has caused a ripple in the web that touches the other strands that are interwoven throughout it. In the alternate future, perhaps a thief liberates the contents of your moneybelt."

Whiteburn asks, "Do you understand my meaning?"

Your ears droop for a moment.

You say, "Yes..."

Whiteburn says, "These ripples are natural. What is unnatural... what is harmful... is coaxing these visions of the future to play for you, strictly for your own gain. It is seeing what will be and attempting to force a strand to be elsewhere. To misplace it. You move along the web. You are not meant to attempt to move the web yourself."

Whiteburn says, "Only Harawep understands the intricacies of Her creation. A mortal attempting to rearrange the threads will only cause harm to the integrity of the Web itself."

Whiteburn says, "And thus, maddened zenzics spilling into our world through tears in reality."

You quietly ask, "Should I be a moon mage?"

Whiteburn says, "The point is that this corruption, this rot... caused by years, by aeons of slow and steady poisoning by Necromancy and Sorcery... the claws of untold mages plucking blindly at the Web of Fate... had culminated in this. Rifts rought in reality, through which two foreign planes, inhospitable to one another, were attempting fatally to cohabitate."

Whiteburn says, "Ah. Well. Perhaps you should not. But, perhaps you should."

The tip of Whiteburn's tail makes lazy circles in the air.

You rub your head.

You say, "Golly."

Whiteburn says, "I can see one world where the only lunar magi are those such as Aerathor and Aaoskar. Greedy, arrogant beings who see fate only as their playthings. I can see them leading their fellows into a dreadful future..."

Whiteburn says, "And in another world, I see a precocious and kind lunar magician who uses her powers responsibly and wisely. I can see others looking to this mage and her words with thoughtfulness and perhaps altering their own practices to mirror hers'. I can see a future where lunar magicians treat the Web of Fate with respect and understand their place upon it."

You perk up your ears happily.

You ask, "That's me!?"

Whiteburn says, "Yes."

You just feel so pleased with yourself, you can't help letting out a hearty cheer.

You slowly and deliberately empty your filled lungs.

You say, "Golly. I have a lot of respect to earn and not much time to earn it... I better get working on that..."

Whiteburn says to you, "Your words have already touched the minds of many, child."

Whiteburn says, "I must attend to my prayers before long. After, before I do so... if I may..."

You angle your ears forward in curiosity.

Whiteburn says to you, "Continue the path on which you walk. The people who's hearts and minds you touch will remember. They will carry that memory with you, always. Your mark upon the Web shall be felt... even when you are no longer a part of this world."

(Whiteburn clasps Iskra's paw. )

You gulp.

Whiteburn says, "And so, instead of looking to death with fear... look to the remainder of your life... with joy. With hope. For what you may help to weave may well be beautiful... and an inspiration to others."

A tear runs down your face.

You quietly say, "I'll try, mother Whiterburn ma'am."

Whiteburn says to you, "To try is all that I ask of you, child."

You nod emphatically.

Whiteburn says, "Ah, forgive me. One final matter..."

Whiteburn gets a black blindfold from inside her locksmith's toolbelt.

You exclaim, "I'm not getting sacrificed! I heard the stories... but its not my time!"

Whiteburn says to you, "I will not sacrifice you unless you wish me to."

You exclaim, "Not yet anyway!"

You take a deep breath.

Whiteburn asks you, "You say you are of the Prophets?"

You say, "I'm... a moon mage? Yes... oh! The G'nar Pethians? I think so. I thought they were about being blind and stuff..."

You say, "I did gouge out my eyes once, but that was before I was a moon mage..."

A pained expression crosses Whiteburn's face.

You softly say, "That was a bad day."

Whiteburn says to you, "Perhaps you should find one to speak with. I believe there may be more to being a prophet than blindness."

You say, "I thought Aaoskar and Aerathor were G'nar Pethians..."

You fidget nervously.

Whiteburn says to you, "However... perhaps you may be able to make use of this..."

Whiteburn offers you a black blindfold. Enter ACCEPT to accept the offer or DECLINE to decline it. The offer will expire in 30 seconds.

You accept Whiteburn's offer and are now holding a black blindfold.

You tilt your head with a curious expression.

You ask, "It's a hankerchief?"

You rub a black blindfold.

Whiteburn says, "It is to be worn around your eyes."

Whiteburn says, "Others will have an easier time understanding... how you are... at a glance."

You say, "Oh..."

You perk up your ears happily.

You say, "That will help... I can take it off when I don't want people to know."

You say, "Having a box that says 'I'm Blind' on it probably made me a target on the road..."

You put on a black blindfold.

You say, "It's comfortable too..."

Whiteburn says to you, "It may protect against the harshness of the sun."

You say, "And keeps my mane from tickling my face..."

Whiteburn says, "I pray that you may forgive me, but I must be away to attend to some duties."

You say, "Okay! I'll find my way out eventually. It's fun to go in circles here."

Whiteburn chortles softly and draws tiny circles in the air with the tip of her tail.

Whiteburn sprinkles some holy water on you.

Whiteburn touches your forehead, and you see a vibrant blue nimbus enfold your body. Your skin tingles, and you feel the immense power of the gods brush you for a brief instant, filling you with holy fire.
You sneeze.

You say, "Golly."

Whiteburn solemnly says, "Bless you, Iskra."

Whiteburn narrows her eyes and rasps tenebrously to herself.

(Iskra wibbles.)

Whiteburn says, "May your life not be tangled in Harawep's weaving, but instead, may you be guided along its weavings in peace and in safety."

You are distracted for just a moment by a sharp whistle from the shadows. You look back towards Whiteburn, but she is simply no longer there.

< Iskra for best character 2018 imo.

I couldn't agree more.