Chapter Text
Our story begins on a mild winter's eve in Rosohna. The eve of a Festival of Light as it happens. Not that our protagonist intended to celebrate it. In fact, he found himself in a familiar argument as he walked, or rather glode, home.
'It is hardly an occasion to celebrate, Verin! It is essentially an excuse for maintenance. The people cannot complain about the inconvenience of straining their eyes in the sunlight when they're meant to be revering it.'
'Ugh, brother, you've told me all this before. I don't care whether you believe in it or not! I'm hardly ever in Rosohna, and I have to return to Bazzoxan the day after tomorrow.'
The Shadowhand sighed as they came to a stop before the gate to his towers.
'I'm busy, Verin, the peace talks-'
'Aren't for another week. Light, come on! I'm not asking you to dedicate the whole day to sitting in prayer with the Umavi and I, I know you'll already have your excuses ready to get out of that. Just say you'll join me and the guys for one drink!'
'Yes because drinking ale with soldiers in some dive bar in the coronas is much more my style!'
'We'll start somewhere nice. And not all my friends are soldiers! Actually there's this one guy I want to introduce you to. Unless of course those rumours about you and a certain human hold any-'
'Stop talking right now and I'll consider it,' Essek quickly interrupted, 'Now if you don't mind, I have more work to get done tonight.'
As the Shadowhand opened his gate with a gesture, Verin mimed sewing his mouth shut before clapping his brother on the back and sauntering off with none of the dignity expected of a taskhand. Essek allowed himself to shake his head fondly before floating forward to the door of the central tower. Was it just the comparison of having all of the Nein round a few days prior that made his towers seem so lonely now, as the slamming of the door behind him echoed throughout?
Lost in thought as he removed his mantle, Essek was startled by the clipped voice that suddenly entered his mind.
'Myself and the Lady Derogna depart from Nicodranas next Conthsen on the Winds of Aeon. I trust my good friend Lord Thain would like to join us.'
Polite as ever, but the implied 'or else' did not go unnoticed by Essek. He shuddered as he composed his reply.
'I will be in attendance.' He could almost hear Jester's voice accusing him of wasting the 20 remaining words.
Essek found himself unreasonably unsettled by Daleth's message while he prepared himself a simple dinner and sat down to continue his work. His thoughts kept returning to Beau's question: 'What about you Essek, what's the worst thing you've ever done?'
The fire he had set began to dwindle and Essek had just about decided to give up and go upstairs to trance, when a noise from the other end of the study drew his attention. There, somehow managing to lounge on a dining chair, was a lavender tiefling who appeared to be clothed in nothing except for some sort of gaudy tapestry. As Essek tensed and prepared to cast, the tiefling leaned forward.
'Hello, friend. I was wondering how long it'd take for you to notice me.'
Essek released his magic missiles, 1st level - a warning shot of sorts. However, the darts just passed straight through the figure and impacted the wall behind him instead. The tiefling looked down at where the darts had flown through him and shrugged,
'Ah that won't be much use, something about the ethereal plane and all that jazz? Can't say I understand it to be honest. Our magic man might have a bit more luck explaining it.'
Essek urgently ran through the spells available to him in his head. He had nothing that could affect a creature on another plane, but then surely the creature could not injure him either without entering the material plane. He tried to adjust his posture to something less confrontational but still ready to cast if need be.
'How did you get into my towers?'
'Hmm I was expecting something more like "But you're supposed to be dead!",' the tiefling said, rising out of his chair and gesturing dramatically, seemingly with no regard for the fact he was barely covered by the tapestry draped over his shoulders, 'or maybe "It can't be!", "Impossible!" Unless- I mean they have told you about me, right?'
Before Essek managed to avert his eyes from the very exposed figure in front of him, he caught a glimpse of colourful tattoos and many scars. That sparked recognition. Ah something the Nein had said about a fallen comrade ... 'Mollymauk?'
Apparently having noticed Essek's discomfort, the tiefling snapped his fingers, his attire changing to a heavily embroidered coat and traveller's clothes, and then bowed with a flourish.
'At your service. Though you may call me Molly, or Lucien, or was it Nonagon? Maybe just King. I'm sorry, its all muddled at the moment'
At this the ghost, for that's what this apparation must have been!, started to look a little worried before it shook itself and went back to its previous wide grin.
'That doesn't make any sense,' Essek told the ghost with all the righteous indignation of a scholar who has had his understanding challenged, 'I'm not well versed in this area but I'm certain that ghosts are meant to remain around the area of their death'
'Fucked if I know.' The ghost of Mollymauk drifted towards Essek and pulled himself up to sit cross legged on the desk.
'Look, lovely, I don't think this is the sort of thing you can apply logic to. You're too much like my magic man, convinced that you can solve every puzzle if you just put enough thought into it. But I don't have any answers for you. All I know is that I'm here to read your fortune.'
The spectre reached into his coat and produced a deck of cards. He shuffled them with flair before dealing out three cards face down on the desk. His hand hovered over the first one.
'Lets begin, shall we?'