Not so Conjugal Visit

From Tenebrae
Revision as of 04:10, 26 November 2016 by Astaren (talk | contribs)
Jump to navigation Jump to search


The prison is much like those who were here before saw it. 200 feet wide and circular. There are five entrances, you all come in from the southeast through the hall of black stone that absorbes light. Four doors in each of the directions of north, south, east, and west can be seen with plaques above them. In the center of the room sitting in a 30ft circular cage is a pit fiend, playing solitar with a deck of cards suited for a creature of medium size.

Ga'Elian walks into the area, carrying an ordinary torch and says, "Here it is. This is Mar'Tek's cage." showing the way in.

Svarshan plays a role, tonight. The magic of alter self gives him a human form, and his armor has adjusted to become something darker, with occasional dips and spikes. The suggestions of an artifice design appear here and there. The slant to his eyes lend him Charn's ancestry. As he enters, his face appears to shift, as though an illusion were falling away. The hat of disguise's magic flickers and fades. "Underneath," his Charn ancestry appears yet more pronounced, the armor slightly more twisted, as though he'd been hiding it from the Alexandrians. "This is the Lord's servant?" he asks. "The one the imposter seeks to steal?" he asks.

Ga'Elian nods. "That's right... sir. I had words with 'im last night. He's a wily one, he is." Mar'Tek glancing up from his game of solitar, "That was a quick return. Did you bring any new games? I am inventing new games of solitair, I can show you some if you wish? Amazing what you can do with cards." the devil offers in common. Then narrows his eyes at Svarshan, "You can drop the disguises, I can see through them. A blessing and a curse I suppose that." Scowling a moment and then reaching to pick up a dire pig that starts to squeel, "you left this here bow man who has no honor. He wondered into my cage, I kept him here on this plane."

"Your kind don't always possess that." Svarshan drops the disguise, and looks towards the demon. Something flickers in the back of his eyes, and he slides a look towards Ga'Elian before looking towards the rest of the room, looking for symbols, marks. Then towards the demon, himself.

Durrankar walks his way into the area and yawns mightily. 'greetings, Brightscale.' Calls Durrankar's staff to Svarshan as he drops the disguise. "I guess he actually went up to get you, Brightscale...."

Ga'Elian nods, extinguishes his torch, and lays it on the floor next to the doorway by which everybody entered. To Durrankar he says, "That's right." He sneers at the devil but answers him nothing.

Mar'Tek rolls his eyes, "And most of my kind is not known to be cursed with Truth. I cannot lie, but as a trade off I can see through all deceptions. Has its moments, but that is a lot of the reason I am down here." Grinning a toothy grin, "A devil that cannot lie, an irony. If I ever get my claws on the fiend that did this.." Durrankar says, "A devil that tells the truth. I cannot think of a better irony." 'Make him put on a blue dress.' Durrankar looks at his staff. "What?" 'Devil in a Blue Dress?' "never heard of it." 'Man you're no fun.'"

"You are probably right," Svarshan says then. "...what do you know about the fiend who. Did thiss?" He looks over to Mar'tek, and then begins a slow walk around the room, reading the plaques. Looking for any marks, symbology left behind that may reveal more of the room's purpose, or words left behind. Mar'Tek is clearly not a usual demon. Did his binders leave clues behind? He looks back at the shaman then, and offers a light flick of the tail in affirmation. "None here are interessted in your essence, by the way."

Mar'Tek glares over to Durrankar, "Bring that staff over here, I will show it a devil in a blue dress. I wonder how many pieces it would look good in." His voice going dark and then glancing to Svarshan, "Humpf, I would hope not. You seem a little to goody goody to want my essence. Would corrupt your mind and twisted to you an archfiend pretty easily." The devil himself has no markings, and the rest of the room has no markings either outside of the plaques written in ancient Silv.

Ga'Elian walks up to about 15 feet from the cage and looks Mar'Tek over, examining what he can see for anything visual that seems to deviate from the strict order of hell making this specimen unique, especially distinguishing oddities, marks in its flesh, and so forth. Not that he would know their significance, but hopefully he could at least detect them.

The devil does indeed have some markings on him, but they are scratched off of his arms leaving only scars and illegable. On his chest a very faint symbol can be seen, a celestial symbol fo Truth.

Durrankar says, "No. As much as you'd like it, I wouldn't give you my staff. That would be like you willingly giving over being a demon.""

Ga'Elian raises his eyebrow, "Some Celestial glyph on his chest. Now if that isn't wierd, I don't know wierd. Then again, that mul sorcerer was speaking Celestial, too."

"Good, but willing to hunt. A demon-blooded ssorcerer wantss your essence." Svarshan turns from the ancient plaques, and looks back to the demon. "And you want him dead. If you live, you would have a. Chansse to gain your freedom. Perhapss not today, or tomorrow. And perhapss, when you do, we will all meet on a field of. Honorable combat, as the twin brotherss, themselvess." He comes to a halt. "I ssee them."

Ga'Elian says, "The sorcerer and this being both seem to claim that they are father and son."

Mar'Tek scowls, "I am a creature of evil, yet you would offer me a most interesting thing. Freedom, my alligences to the hells has long been past since they turned their backs on me. Interesting, though if you really want to earn my favor, bring me a new game. Cards get old after a few centuries, and it has been milenia." Mar'tek glancing to Ga'Elian, "Su'tek, my fifth son, the youngest and perhaps the most evil. His loyalty falls to himself, at least it did. Careful with him, the blood of devils runs strong in his veins." The devil grinning, "Quiet proud, but he needs to die."

Svarshan tilts his head, and opens his muzzle, draws air across the tongue and old senses. "Hell issn't known for itss loyalty, no," he agrees in the meantime, after a look towards Ga'elian, and back to the demon. "And you have gotten rid of your old markss?"

Ga'Elian listens and thinks for a moment. "Well, I don't know. All this discussion of shoulds and needs is beyond my wisdom. I certainly mourn the treachery of the Mul'niessa, and abhor the intrusion of hellspawn into the circles of Ea, but strong as the Huntress and her holy brother the Hunter are in my heart, my wits are adequate only to tell me this is a bigger problem than I can solve.

Mar'Tek reaches over and pets the dire ram, which is clearly scared but doesn't run a way either. Some black silver lines seen running through it. "Good and evil, black and white, red and blue, people always look at the world so narrowly." The devil offers and suddenly crashes against the cage wall shaking the cave, but not damaging anything, "You will find my wraith against those who imprisoned me knows no bounds. I will cast them down and destroy all they have built and I will feast on their corpses for a thousand days while their minions piss and shit on them. Then I will carve my own markings, and I will lead my own legions. We do not need to be enemies here, I am what I am. Celestials have fallen, and I am considering I may need to find allies I can trust more."

Durrankar ponders something. "Brightscale. I have an interesting proposition....for the devil."

Svarshan flicks his tail in an affirmative gesture, behind him, then looks towards the shaman.

Durrankar says, "The premise is simple.....you shall know and bring your wrath to the demons that you showed loyalty to in the past.....and those that have summoned them." He speaks, of course, of the summoner that has been assaulting Alexandria secretly, Asumit (I think). "And....as for allies you can trust more.....you're...on the wrong end of the good/evil spectrum to be talking about trust.""

"Give me a reason to change?" Mar'Tek offers and shakes his head, 'Not that I want to." The honesty is truly a duel edged sword with the devil, "Yet your offer intrigues me. You would set me free so I can seek my vengence, of that I can agree. There is no need for alliances, let me seek what I want, and you get something in the end as well do you not?" A glance to Svarshan, "What say you good goody?"

Durrankar says, "Let me rephrase....you wouldn't be set free. We do have need of your ability to see through disguises, and even be able to root out devils and demons. Unfortunately, Setting you free is not something I am prepared to do, especially with what you /COULD/ do.....Unless you'd rather be sent back to the hells where you came from.""

Svarshan looks towards his shaman a long while. Then, back towards the devil. "You want out. I ssuspect, given time, you would find your way," he says wryly. "But at the moment, you have everything to gain from the. Death of your sson. At the moment, he iss a contender for power and. Amassess his cult. He ssolidifiess his deal with the nagan tribess. He would ssteal your essence and cut. Your chansse for revenge."

"...there iss no need to deal, and you know. I cannot. My only offer iss the death of your enemy and with your truth, the downfall of hiss empire. That iss ssweet enough." He believes they have the cards. The demon is playing solitaire.

Mar'Tek offers a rueful smile, "Death and return to my plane would be enough for me. This prison wears on me." A glance to Svarshan, "The child you can take care of on you own as you desire, but know this in setting me free you wil have set loose a force on the pits that will wreck hell, pun intended. This will throw your enemies into chaos as they have to deal with me and any loyal minions I have left. I do not need freedom here, only freedom."

"And when you find a way to attain it, I will meet you in battle," Svarshan says, regarding the devil evenly. "As the brotherss battle, sso will we. But now iss not that. Time."

Durrankar has to sit and think about this for a little while. "Sadly....I do not trust you enough to set you free....."

The devil then lets out a laugh, "As well, I was willing to give you a chance, to see if good belived in redeeming evil or not. So I will tell you now, you do not hold all the cards. There are at least three cards in play, and I hold two of them." The devil grinning, "I have been here so long life and death no longer matter, if freedom is not a option then death is. Su'Tek, has already been here." Pausing a moment to let that sink in. "The bone devils were his minions, here to keep watch and keep outsiders away. While he collected the items needed to break the elemental seals. So you see, if I die and go back to my realm, I win. If he frees me and takes my power and consumes my eistance, I win. You hold one card, I am still imprisoned. So you should scurry and stop my son before he wins." The devil leaning back and grinning, "Cause there is a forth card, and that card greatly favors me."

Durrankar says, "that explains a lot then. So while we were waiting here, his plans are still in motion....""

"Devilss are crafted from the mosst corrupt of ssouls, sshaman. Rapissts, murdererss. Child molesstors. They are made, and not born, or we could assk for Althea'ss grace." Svarshan says, evenly. "Esscept the magic of thiss world markss them by their actionss, and ressponds to who they truly. Are."

"There iss no gray, not in thiss world, and redemption of-one iss in the power of only godss, and their mosst powerful sservantss, to grant. It iss not available to mortals, and our kind, not for one who wass crafted to hiss depth. He assks for the impossible, and triess to sshame uss with it." And if they set him loose, one of the first he would go after would be the servant of good who bound him here.

It would be as signing a death warrent. He turns back to his tribekin, "I ssuggesst we ssketch him to memory, and learn what we can here. If there are boness, collect them. There are magicss that will bypass what he will not ssay. ..." Nor would he trust a thousand and more year old pit fiend if he did.

Durrankar says, "Mmmmm......Your words ring true, Brightscale." it's clear the shaman looks up to Svarshan in many ways...."

Mar'Tek continues to pet his dire ram thoughtfully, "There is truth in what you say, but all those souls redemption can be had. Close your eyes to the possibility, and it will never happen. By that same logic, it would be impossible for a celestial to fall, yet they do, have, and will again." Mar'Tek leans back against the bars on the far side of the cage, "A few milenia in a cage gives even one such as me time to think." A lick of his lips, "But as yous aid, beyond your means, and beyond their interest. Black and white, black and white." Turning back to his cards he continues his game of solitar.

"That's not actually accurate." Fazahd appears at the mouth of one of the doorways, hands behind his back. "Redemption is...not ours to grant, Great Paladin, but it /is/ something that can be earned." The Enginebreaker sounds...well. Priestly. "Good evening, Mar'Tek Sarka'mon. You have visitors, I see." A beat. "Have you told them? About the choice that lies before you?" If he is bothered by the crashing about, he gives no sign.

Mar'Tek, "Not directly no, but they understand. They have not done well in giving me reasons to change my ways. I even delayed in telling them I have all but assured my own freedom, giving them a chance to offer it to me." The devil offering a rueful smile, "Goody goodies, they never change. As blind as they were centuries ago, and perhaps more blind today."

"Good iss the harder choice," Svarshan says with regret. "Ssa. Your redemption would require a divine's work."

"Elementally opposed," Fazahd points out. "And you aren't exactly giving anyone evidence that you want to change, talking like that." With this said, he looks to Svarshan. "This isn't a matter of good or evil, Svarshan. This is a matter of order for the sake of oppression, or order for the sake of order. This fellow was a warlord. I see in him the makings of a judge." He looks sharply back to Mar'Tek. "A good judge requires neutrality and temperance in -all- things, Mar'Tek. You cannot simply go about raining fire on your enemies for doing you wrong. There are laws everywhere, as you well know. Mortal law, Infernal law, Divine law. -Cosmic- law. It is the balance of the latter upon which you stand. The choice to make isn't ours, it is yours. Here, in this cage of yours."

"Actually, Fazahd...." Durrankar starts to speak. "The sigil upon his chest is the celestial symbol 'Truth'. He cannot lie....and he cannot scratch the sigil off....as much as he wants to. Someone wanted him to stay here.....and not lie."

"He can sspeak what he believess to be true," Svarshan says low-voiced. "And earlier he sspoke of world-wide retribution. Do you think he possesses that control after hundreds of yearss here?" he asks Fazahd. He lets go a breath. Or would he with the Book of Darkness itself loose in the world? Oh, never say that out loud. If the devil ever becomes free, he'll find out soon enough.

Mar'Tek offers Fazahd a very blank surprised look, "Huh?" Is all the devil can offer and continues to stare at the man, "Me a judge?" clearly confused by that and leans forward a bit, "Your friend there is right though, I cannot change what I am, it is built into me to my very core. It would require divine intervention, something no god of good or neutrality would ever consider. I speak for my own agenda, and my own goals. I have been deeply betrayed by both blood and lord, and cursed to always see the truth and to speak it. I have had centuries to think, and perhaps my perspective has changed. Yet, we all know the moment I get out of here I will go back to the nature that has been given me." The devil leans back, "damnable truth curse." a grin offered to Svarshan, "I think I was explicite in that my enemies would be hunted. That I would have their corpses to feed upon for a thousand days while I have their minions defile it. Rather delectiable."

"So pray for it," Fazahd says simply. "I believe, Mar'Tek, that I still owe you that story. Do you still want to hear it?" Long distance to Svarshan: Astaren hopes things are good?

Mar'Tek, "Shrugs, better then playing another game of cards by myself, tell away."

Sith-makar are not softskin, and the brightscale meets the devil's smile with one of his own. The barest flash of teeth. "And I would meet you on the field, devil, blade to blade, ass in the old dayss," he says, and then the smile slowly loosens. Vanishes. "If you are sserious, demon. I could offer you prayerss. To sspeak with the priessts, but more is beyond what I am able to do."

Mar'Tek, "A part of me longs for a different path, but I know the moment I am free, I will return to that which I once was. Say your prayers, I will not turn them away."

"He must do it himself," says Fazahd. "You know how the gods are, Svarshan. They do not give what is not earned, in some way or another." That said, Fazahd looks up at Mar'Tek and finds a seat on the ground, clanking (clanking??) as he does so. "I was a priest of Reos. I've spent all my young life, until the last few months, serving as a healer and a shield of my faith. But I am a priest no longer. I have changed, you see, from a shield of my faith to a sword of it.

"I am, as you see, human. My name is Fazahd Masterbuilder, however, or as my people call me, Fazahd Bruzagh-Atar. I am Khazad, in that I was adopted by my Khazadi father when I was but an infant. My parents were killed by gnolls, creatures who, interestingly enough, also share your blood to some degree or another. My father is an inheritor of one of the greatest Khazad clans in his race's entire history, but he threw much of that away just to raise me, a human, as his own son. My mother's family, already a lower clan, was pulled down that much more by my inclusion. You know, I think, how stratified the Khazad can be."

Mar'Tek rolls his eyes, "I should introduce you to the politics of the pits. The pits is not all about how many souls did you corrupt today, oh so much more. Do go on, this intrigues me. Mortal politics are a lesson in evil sometimes are they not?"

"I will sspeak with the High Father," the brightscale says. Then looks at Fazahd, just looks at him, and then looks back to the demon.

"Oh, I understand the politics of the pits quite well," Fazahd says mildly. "I have made a deep study of your kind, the stratification of the devils and the demons, the varying forms one takes as one grows greater, etcetera. Really, the politics of the Inferno and the Abyss are no different in basic structure than that of the mortal races - otherwise, how could you bring them down?

"At any rate, I grew up in their shadow. My people, they distrust almost anything that is not of their own flesh and of their own family. I could be one, but I would never be another. Imagine that for a moment, will you? I will die of old age before most of the last four generations of my family, even my honored mother and father. I can take no wife, for no Khazad maid of standing matching my clan's own will marry one who cannot give her children, and even if I could, they too would see their father wither and die before they reached adolescence. I cannot inherit, because I am not Khazad, though that, at least, /might/ change dependingg on my social status. But I could not last in the mines, and I did not have the same connection to the mountain that my adopted kin had from birth. Do you understand that? I did not know the /stone/. I could learn it, I could work it, but I would never /know/ it. I am a dead branch on my family tree just by existing, and by all rights, my death would likely improve the standing of my family just through sheer elevating force of pity.

"So I grew up like this. Mocked, isolated. My father's family would have very little to do with me, and though my mother's family embraced me, they did not understand me. Since we are speaking truth here - you literally cannot lie, after all - I will tell you something that I have never told anyone before in my life: I hated the Khazad for years. I hated all of my people, and I let it fester in me. At one point, when I was a child, I fantasized what my life would be like if I killed my uncles in their beds and ran off to freedom beyond the mountain. I was, as I am still, a creature with a core of white-hot anger burning deep inside my breast. To this day I have a list of people whom I still have a very hard time not counting as enemies. Forgiveness is a daily struggle. And yet that is not the end of this tale."

Fazahd looks at Svarshan, very placidly, before turning back to Mar'Tek.

Mar'Tek listens quietly, his expression quiet and unreadable for a long time, "Hatred begets hatred. Hade you killed them, other would of hunted you,and you would have killed them or they would have killed you. A cycle that is never broken until both sides are dead. A story of why I am here, becuse I killed those I hated." A toothy grin offered, "Anger, hatred, familiar friends, the only friends I had for a very long time. I used to rage against this cage for centuries. If I do get free I will seek my enemies out and destroy them, consuming their corpses. Over time the rage left me and I am left... empty. My hatred and my rage have not freed me." The devil almost sounds confused by that then shrugs as he goes back to listening.

Durrankar says, "To redeem yourself is to act against your very nature. Acting against anger, sorrow, rage.....and instead.....nurture, help something grow....and eventually....blossom into something helpful." He then puffs out a bit of smoke. "Such is the calling of a Shaman. Evil seeks to destroy. Good seeks to redeem. Law and Chaos are divine orders as well. One cannot exist without the other.""

Ga'Elian has been silently observing things for quite a while. He now ventures to say, "I know when your cihuaa underwent her transformation, shaman, that it was most profound and quite an ordeal. For an actual devil to be redeemed, would it require a similar... process?"

"Just so," says Fazahd. "It did indeed leave me empty. I found myself praying out of a lack of anything to do - I became on outstanding smith, I embraced artifice and engineering of all kinds, and for what? What did it do but provide some sliver of external validation? What is killing -anyone- outside of the course of protection or survival but a form of false validation? So I prayed. I prayed to the Father, and then I stopped, since this also seemed a method of external validation, until one day...the Father spoke to me. He instilled within me a new spark, not of anger but the desire to invert all the hate that I had felt within me. I became a creature of law, and my desire to make myself /look/ better, I realized, was in fact a desire to /be/ better. And so I was. I became a priest of the Father, and began to do good works in His name even as I left Ironhold to head toward Alexandria. Indeed, I traveled on foot, taking a year to stop in villages, repair machines, and improve infrastructure as I made my way to the city. Even when I reached Alexandria, I did many things that upset all traditions for the betterment of people. I have built homes, free restaurants for the poor, all of these things. And yet, as I ranged afar on business for the Father, I realized that these things, while satisfying, still did not address the full compass of my nature. I still judged. I still found others unworthy. I chafed under the constrictions of the law, though I followed them to the letter. After four years, however, I found myself praying at night to fill a new emptiness, the one that I realized still lay within me. I was a priest; I did many good things, healed the sick, freed slaves wherever I went. And still....there was something empty within me. I needed purpose. -More- purpose. Purpose that fit the changes that went on within me.

"Which brings me to Versis."

Svarshan looks back towards the demon. "I cannot imagine the sstruggles you went through. The torture, being sskinned alive or held in 'play' while your brotherss acted out their life'ss corruption upon your. Persson." Devils are made from souls unimaginable, after all. "I sspent ssome years there, I know," he says more quietly, as though the words themselves would bring back memories. If he spoke them just an ounce more loudly.

"...but if anything might give you sstrength, it iss that by working with the priessts, we could sstrengthen your mind, and your. Ressolve sso that you could sstride forward and not return onsse you sstep into the world. You ssaid sso yoursself. Onsse you returned, you would become your old ways."

The tail flickers, once. Settles near the feet as a heavy loaf of bread. "Work with the priessts and prayerss to the godss may give you that opportunity. It iss the only chansse you may have to control your life'ss desstiny. You ssaid, Good falls. It iss becausse we have a choisse."

"Evil needss intervention, and then the will of your own action. Evil needss this becausse the moment you fell, your choisse was taken from you, and sshackled to Maugrim'ss coil. You and I know the causse for the sstruggle between brotherss. Sssa. I know it well. I have made you, and yourss. My life'ss work."

"If you would work with uss, and agree to sseek the priessts, then perhapss we can offer you ssomething greater. Choisse."

Mar'Tek sites and listens, petting the Dire Ram in his cage. He sighs softly and reaches up to rub his head, 'Send your priests, send your dictations and words, I will listen. It is better then anything else I was doing." he offers with a heavy sigh, "I grow weary of this confinment, and any chance of freedom I will take." the devil looking tired suddenly his bravado suddenly missing.

Ga'Elian is utterly amazed. He has seen some amazing things, most recently the appearance of Heth himself and the total removal of Rune from the Prime Material Plane, but seeing the scene before his eyes unfold just leaves him... speechless.

"Svarshan speaks to this all too well," says Fazahd with a nod. "I first saw him at Versis, a place where a man named The Binder slew men, women and children to consecrate that town to the Inferno. As a priest, I was there when the collected hosts of Alexandria and Myrrdion sought to purge the taint; gates to the Iron Hells and the Abyss alike opened, and a whole legion of the black powers poured in to murder us all.

"You can imagine me there, a young, minor priest, healing the dying, fighting the monsters with all their strength, all the while tempted at every step by the whispers of Mariliths and other fiends. The Mariliths, I find, tried hardest to try and shake me, even as I climbed on their backs and smashed at them with my hammer. I suspect it's probably because I am a virgin, and they expect that they could use this against me. I managed to escape that, however, and I fought. I fought hard, and I helped slay many, and when I could not slay outright I played misercorde for the fallen monsters just as I did my best to heal those who were being murdered by their fellows. All the while, I thought...I must do more. I must BE more. This is not the path I should have taken, it was not right for me. And as the ritual of purification ended, and the hordes were pushed back, I was...filled with the voice of my god. True voice, mind you, which...well. It nearly destroyed me just to hear. He showed me a vision of this world as a machine with many broken or otherwise corrupted parts, parts that needed mending or outright disposal. And like the engineer I had trained to be, I would do the same for the world. Thus did Father Reos change me, without and within, to be what you see here. I am no priest, not anymore. No longer am I a creature of pure law, either; I am a creature of the balance, just as I saw the balance within you. Just as I see that the evil you might have been is now suspended as you prepare to make your choice. I am an Inquisitor, or as my faith calls it, an Enginebreaker. To know evil, and to purge it, this is my path. This path led me here, to the tunnels beneath Alexandria. This path has led me to you. And that is my story.

"For Svarshan to give you this choice - for he is correct, it is only your own choice that will save you. I want you to know, I witnessed this person ride into the Iron Hells through the portals at Versis to save tormented souls. His very purpose on this world is to destroy demons and devils and all manner of elementally evil creatures. That he stays his hand to let you find redemption? I would take that as a very strong sign that you must do your best to fulfill your true purpose." Fazahd smiles faintly. "And with that, my story is done."

Durrankar lets them talk. he is only a druid....one who watches over the forest.

"I will sspeak with them. I alsso prefer action over wordss," the sith-makar says kindly. He looks around the room, then, his head tilted to the side. "Thiss room can become your monesstary, not your prisson. Until you are ready."

"Pleasse ansswer the quesstions of my sshaman, and the hunterss. They have come a long way to be here." He looks towards Durrankar with fondness, "And they are wisse. The priessts will assk what you have done. Thiss is the firsst. Sstep."

Mar'Tek listens quietly, his complexion and expression not revealing what his thoughts are as he takes it all in. His eyes land on Fazahd for a long moment, "bring me some dice, and we will have further words, on this judge thing." Then he smiles ruefully as he looks to Svarshan, "your priests ears will burn with the atroticities I have commited, and I will speak of them proudly. I hold no shame for my past, and if that is a key piece you will not find it. I hold no guilt for what I have done, but I do know this. Balance does not require guilt or regret, only continuation. I would hear more of what you mean by judge, when you bring some dice." The devil glances to the others, "Answer questions, you need to ask first."

The brightscale's tail settles behind him, but he aloud, says not a thing. Shame, redemption is part of it. But perhaps, it may play out. He turns and grips his shaman's shoulder, sharing words a moment. After that, he will work to examine the room, to find leftover parts, pieces that may be useful.

"To see the future, one must freely admit one's past," Fazahd echoes with a nod. "I will return. I must keep things safe in this place. I hope that my story helped you find clarity, in whichever direction you eventually turn." He rises, always cautious, but much more comfortable than his background would seem to allow. "Good evening."