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<blockquote data-quote="skullsmurfer" data-source="post: 2419825" data-attributes="member: 17151"><p><strong>An Apology, Chapter 20</strong></p><p></p><p>Javelin broke through Theodyl's door to find the half-elf cranking the printing press. The contraption seems to be passing sheets of paper under a cylinder, the sheets come out with writing and drawings at the other end. Theodyl kicked a lever to cut off the paper feed. He continued to crank until the remaining sheets were fed through. Afterwards, he wiped his brow with the hem of his night shirt. He snatched a Sharn Anonymous off the stack and handed it to the war-forged.</p><p></p><p> “I'll be damned if this isn't my best work.” Theodyl said wearing his best smile.</p><p></p><p> The war-forged tucked his steel batons into his belt. He made to bring the rag sheet to his eyes, then tapped the half-elf in the jaw with a serpent kick. Javelin picked him up and put him to bed. The beer stein started laughing. After tucking the bard in tight, the war-forged dragged a chair in from the other room. Javelin lay his batons across his lap and started reading. </p><p></p><p> Theodyl scowled at his guardian from his bed. He is drinking brown Witch's Mead. It is sweet, with hint of honey. He likes it for its potent alcoholic punch, the effects of the dream root are an added bonus. He can't sleep, but the root is sure to keep the edge off and keep him sane. Theodyl snatched his Lute from the shelf over his head and set about tuning it. He can already feel the edge of his vision growing fuzzy. The instrument came to life under is dancing fingers. Every sound rang with a ghostly slash of color within his vision. He used the music to guide his trance while he considers how to get out of Sharn without anymore complications. </p><p></p><p> Paragon returned four hours later. He kicked at what is left of Theodyl's door, and walked over to Javelin. Javelin handed Paragon the rag sheet, pointing out a cartoon at the bottom. They both laughed. The changelings arrived with large wooden tub. Argus and Pennelocles each have a barrel of water.</p><p></p><p> “He's intoxicated!” Paragon complained. “Is that good?”</p><p></p><p> “It shouldn't make a difference,” Pyrus replied as he strolled in bearing his new lich-staff, “as long as you hold him under the water while I recite the incantation.”</p><p></p><p> “Hey guys,” Theodyl beamed as he welcomed his friends, “wanna throw some dice? I'm feeling lucky!”</p><p></p><p> “Sure, after your bath.” Paragon said with barely hidden amusement.</p><p></p><p> “I already took a bath.....” the bard slurred, “in mead!” The half-elf giggled like an idiot.</p><p></p><p> Pook and Ivor sneered at each other as they stripped off their leathers. Ivor shifted into a pouty lass with chestnut brown hair. Pook shifted to the familiar features of Lady Eunice Nigma. They both took a moment to daub some rose scented oil in all the best places. Ivor rolled her eyes at Pook, she is putting on jewelry. She commented on how real women don't need enhancement. Pook just turned her back on the other girl. Ivor caught Theodyl's eyes and coaxed him towards the tub. Patter and Siff shrugged their shoulders and decided to rummage through Theodyl's property. Pook has just called Ivor a slut. The war-forged can watch the fireworks, it's old news to them. </p><p></p><p> The women kept Theodyl distracted while Pyrus painted symbols on his skin. He was too busy talking romance to the two knowing nymphs at his arms. Pyrus sped through the ritual preparations. The war-forged pyromancer signaled Paragon and Argus. They have to hold Theodyl under the chemically treated bath for the last three mystical phrases of the spell. Pyrus channeled the fire through his hands and into the patterns painted over the half-elf. He pulled the changelings away as the bard's temperature soared and only the war-forged could stand to carry him. The look on his face as they dropped him in the water was priceless.</p><p></p><p> “It's going to be alright, Theodyl, we are brothers.” with that, Paragon pushed the bard's head under the bubbling water. “I forgive you.” He laughed as Pyrus channeled fire directly into the tub.</p><p></p><p> A pillar of dingy gray steam rose out of the water. Theodyl's head broke the surface. He gasped and gripped the edges of the tub as a greasy back shadow crawled out of his mouth. Pyrus snatched it off the bard's face and held it his grasp until it burned away to ash. The three war-forged watched as Theodyl's hair returned to it's normal dirty blond shade. His eyes remained a watered down green, however. Theodyl watched the blue twinge disappear from his creamy white skin. He called for mead, the changelings threw a towel at his face.</p><p></p><p> “The magic that resurrected you was tainted.” the pyromancer commented as he examined the half-elf. “I used the potency of fire to sear away the corruption and quicken the fires of your spirit.”</p><p></p><p> “Have I joined a cult?” Theodyl quipped.</p><p></p><p> “No, ” Pyrus laughed. “but you and Paragon owe me a service.”</p><p></p><p> “I still can't sleep, and now I'm sober too.” Theodyl pouted. “What the hell was that thing that came out of my mouth?”</p><p></p><p> “Taint, Necromancy is an unclean Art.” Pyrus began to lecture, “You are quite lucky that Fire......”</p><p></p><p> The changelings started to giggle as Theodyl dragged them off to bed. Pyrus continued to speak. Paragon drew the pyromancer's attention and convinced him to join the war-forged in the other room. Pyrus turned to see Patter and Siff curled up with one another on a pile of Theodyl's cushions. He then turned to see a pile of what should be Pook, Ivor and the half-elf. Somehow, Theodyl managed to sip from a bottle, while simultaneously wrestling with the others. Flesh people are damned strange. Paragon blocked the bedroom with a bookshelf as soon as Pyrus made his exit. </p><p></p><p> Theodyl forgot about his troubles for a while. Ivor and Pook can be very sweet when they want to. They fight too often for it to be simple recreation. They play him as often as he plays them. Changelings do not think the same as humans, so he can get away with quite a lot. Despite his fickle, wandering attentions, he understands that they have something worthy. Theodyl is proud that he can tell them apart no matter what face they wear. He saw their eyes when they understood what transpired with the lich. Theodyl can't bear to hurt them again. He kissed Pook in the forehead and gently pulled a blanket over Ivor's sleeping form. The alcohol slowed the dream root, but he's drunk way too much of it to avoid the dreams for long. He fixed his gaze on the colorful mass of swirls and shapes intruding into his reality. Theodyl left his flesh behind and let the dreams take him away.</p><p></p><p> Patter blinked the sleep away from his eyes. Siff has the blanked pulled over his face, it won't save him, he's supposed to be awake. Patter looked to Theodyl's bed. Ivor lost his shape in his sleep. Pook is still playing a girl. Changeling physiology scares the hell out of most humans, Theodyl either doesn't understand, or he doesn't care. As long as he continues to treat them well in any shape, Patter won't have to put a knife to him.</p><p></p><p> “Um, Patter....” Siff nudged his lover.</p><p></p><p> “Yeah, what?” Patter asked trying to imitate Theodyl's voice.</p><p> </p><p> “Trouble, I think.” Siff's tone cut through Patter's playful mood.</p><p></p><p> The lich waved at the two changelings and helped itself to Javelin's chair in front of Theodyl's bed. Mooneye waved his hand at one of the half-elf's bookshelves and called forth a few choice volumes.</p><p></p><p> “I am early for my appointment,” the lich spoke at the two lovers, “please, don't let me keep you from your fun.”</p><p></p><p> Patter, stared at the lich for several long moments until Siff smacked him in the back of the head and sent him out to get Paragon. Siff walked over to the bath tub, scooped some water out with a bucket and started calling Theodyl to see if he would stir on his own. His eyes are open, but he is not in residence. The changeling gave his friends fair warning and then immediately splashed them with water before they could get away. Pook managed an incredibly lady-like scream, Ivor shifted to a male form to better punctuate his insults. Theodyl blinked, looked around and then rolled over to cuddle against Pook. She snapped her fingers in his face until he said something intelligible, then forcefully turned his face towards the lich.</p><p></p><p> “Hello....er, what time is it?” The addled half-elf tried to speak.</p><p></p><p> “It is now three minutes to midnight, I decided to come early.” The lich answered as it looked through Theodyl's spellbooks. “You aren't feeling a thing right now, are you? I half expected to find you at a church, or behind a warding circle.”</p><p></p><p> “Hey, are those my books?!”</p><p></p><p> “Your notation is rather advanced.” Mooneye commented, ignoring Theodyl's outrage. “I see also that your education is incomplete, you need a Master. One that can recognize your obvious talent.”</p><p></p><p> “What do you mean by that?” Theodyl stood naked on his bed.</p><p></p><p> “I mean that I can offer you that which you need most.” Mooneye replied. “Knowledge and Discipline.” The lich jabbed a bony finger at the half-elf and sent him into painful convulsions. “You need a strong hand to mold your talent.”</p><p></p><p> Pyrus put an end to the small talk by dispelling the magic over Theodyl. Paragon dared the lich to kill Theodyl again. He meant it in the very best way possible. Pook and Ivor drew blades, and pulled the half-elf back. Theodyl sipped on some wine to clear his head. Pyrus and Mooneye stared each other down. Alternating waves of blistering heat and numbing chill battled within the room.</p><p></p><p> “Hey, I have an idea. How's about you all go into the other room and allow me to get dressed?” Theodyl spoke up, drawing the center of attention back onto his person. </p><p></p><p> Paragon 153 to 4 took some convincing. Pyrus helped by not setting the building on fire. The lich followed along, but mostly out of amusement. The girls gave Theodyl a smack a piece. He's pushing his luck again. The half-elf shook off the dream root and hurried to get organized. A brilliant plan formed in his mind sometime during the last several hours. He grinned stupidly while he struggled to get dressed before Paragon called the lich out.</p><p></p><p> “Good Morning!” Theodyl's voice sang as he sauntered out his room with the beer stein in hand. The dwarven spirit told everyone to shut up and let him sleep.</p><p></p><p> “Enough, Idiot! Get this taken care of already!” Paragon snapped. </p><p></p><p> Mooneye broke away from his death stare with Pyrus. The changelings pulled their hoods away to show Theodyl their support. He planted a kiss on each and every one of his mirrored faces. Pyrus shook his head. Paragon harrumphed.</p><p></p><p> “Master Mooneye, I have decided to apologize to you publicly.” Theodyl spoke, “Read this, it is my hope that this makes up for my trespasses against you.”</p><p></p><p> The lich grasped the crisp new copy of the Sharn Anonymous. He pointed at Theodyl and held him in place with a spell. Mooneye read through the rag sheet once and then twice. The necromancer fixed his red unyielding gaze at the half-elf and then decided to read through the Sharn Anonymous once more. Pyrus looked to Paragon for a sign of how things are progressing. The war-forged pyromancer is way past the point where he would have let the fire have it's say. The lich seems like a worthy challenge however, tossing fire about may not be his best option.</p><p></p><p> “You are serious about this?” the lich asked, allowing the full terror of it's gaze to weigh on Theodyl. “Tell me, why did you try to kill me?”</p><p></p><p> “Because you were taking what is mine and I couldn't stop you any other way.” Theodyl replied firmly.</p><p></p><p> “Are you willing to do that again?”</p><p></p><p> “Only if you try to steal from me once more.”</p><p></p><p> Mooneye sat back and shook his head. Paragon's jaw hung open. The lich chuckled, then started to laugh. The unpleasant sound made the changelings cringe. When the necromancer finally stopped, even the war-forged were much gladder for it. </p><p></p><p> “Sleep, Theodyl.” Mooneye rasped as if winded. “When he wakes up, tell him that I am waiting for the file.” The lich chuckled at the unconscious half-elf. “He is not afraid of me, not one bit.”</p><p></p><p> Mooneye the Necromancer summoned a dirty gray snow ball and tossed it at the pyromancer. By the time Paragon drew his blade and Pyrus shook the snow out of his face, the lich was gone. The changelings saw the shadows in the room swallow their unwelcome visitor. Paragon spent an hour poking every corner in the room with his cutlass. Pyrus read through the Sharn Anonymous. The changelings dragged the sleeping half-elf to bed and tied him down. Paragon has errands for them, the new rag sheet has to hit the streets.</p><p></p><p> By the end of the week, Mooneye Rocco is going to be a household name throughout Sharn. Theodyl devoted the entire news sheet to the lich and how it saved the city from certain doom. The details about the Hag's Plague will cause trouble. Mooneye's biography will have the local clerics calling for his permanent destruction. It is as good an apology as Theodyl could give. The lich gets enough credit and notoriety to satisfy even his ego. The City Council is going to have fits. The bard gave the City Watch credit for wiping out an invading army of dolgrim. Theodyl even drafted a song to glorify their deeds. A simple, yet comical caricature depicting a Dog Soldier hacking away at a twisted goblin is included with the song. It is a series of lies so outrageous that there is no doubt the City of Sharn will believe them all. Even if a skeptic manages to find a hole in the story, they would be fighting an uphill battle to say otherwise. Sharn City Council is barely in charge of the city, they will go with whatever keeps the masses happy.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="skullsmurfer, post: 2419825, member: 17151"] [b]An Apology, Chapter 20[/b] Javelin broke through Theodyl's door to find the half-elf cranking the printing press. The contraption seems to be passing sheets of paper under a cylinder, the sheets come out with writing and drawings at the other end. Theodyl kicked a lever to cut off the paper feed. He continued to crank until the remaining sheets were fed through. Afterwards, he wiped his brow with the hem of his night shirt. He snatched a Sharn Anonymous off the stack and handed it to the war-forged. “I'll be damned if this isn't my best work.” Theodyl said wearing his best smile. The war-forged tucked his steel batons into his belt. He made to bring the rag sheet to his eyes, then tapped the half-elf in the jaw with a serpent kick. Javelin picked him up and put him to bed. The beer stein started laughing. After tucking the bard in tight, the war-forged dragged a chair in from the other room. Javelin lay his batons across his lap and started reading. Theodyl scowled at his guardian from his bed. He is drinking brown Witch's Mead. It is sweet, with hint of honey. He likes it for its potent alcoholic punch, the effects of the dream root are an added bonus. He can't sleep, but the root is sure to keep the edge off and keep him sane. Theodyl snatched his Lute from the shelf over his head and set about tuning it. He can already feel the edge of his vision growing fuzzy. The instrument came to life under is dancing fingers. Every sound rang with a ghostly slash of color within his vision. He used the music to guide his trance while he considers how to get out of Sharn without anymore complications. Paragon returned four hours later. He kicked at what is left of Theodyl's door, and walked over to Javelin. Javelin handed Paragon the rag sheet, pointing out a cartoon at the bottom. They both laughed. The changelings arrived with large wooden tub. Argus and Pennelocles each have a barrel of water. “He's intoxicated!” Paragon complained. “Is that good?” “It shouldn't make a difference,” Pyrus replied as he strolled in bearing his new lich-staff, “as long as you hold him under the water while I recite the incantation.” “Hey guys,” Theodyl beamed as he welcomed his friends, “wanna throw some dice? I'm feeling lucky!” “Sure, after your bath.” Paragon said with barely hidden amusement. “I already took a bath.....” the bard slurred, “in mead!” The half-elf giggled like an idiot. Pook and Ivor sneered at each other as they stripped off their leathers. Ivor shifted into a pouty lass with chestnut brown hair. Pook shifted to the familiar features of Lady Eunice Nigma. They both took a moment to daub some rose scented oil in all the best places. Ivor rolled her eyes at Pook, she is putting on jewelry. She commented on how real women don't need enhancement. Pook just turned her back on the other girl. Ivor caught Theodyl's eyes and coaxed him towards the tub. Patter and Siff shrugged their shoulders and decided to rummage through Theodyl's property. Pook has just called Ivor a slut. The war-forged can watch the fireworks, it's old news to them. The women kept Theodyl distracted while Pyrus painted symbols on his skin. He was too busy talking romance to the two knowing nymphs at his arms. Pyrus sped through the ritual preparations. The war-forged pyromancer signaled Paragon and Argus. They have to hold Theodyl under the chemically treated bath for the last three mystical phrases of the spell. Pyrus channeled the fire through his hands and into the patterns painted over the half-elf. He pulled the changelings away as the bard's temperature soared and only the war-forged could stand to carry him. The look on his face as they dropped him in the water was priceless. “It's going to be alright, Theodyl, we are brothers.” with that, Paragon pushed the bard's head under the bubbling water. “I forgive you.” He laughed as Pyrus channeled fire directly into the tub. A pillar of dingy gray steam rose out of the water. Theodyl's head broke the surface. He gasped and gripped the edges of the tub as a greasy back shadow crawled out of his mouth. Pyrus snatched it off the bard's face and held it his grasp until it burned away to ash. The three war-forged watched as Theodyl's hair returned to it's normal dirty blond shade. His eyes remained a watered down green, however. Theodyl watched the blue twinge disappear from his creamy white skin. He called for mead, the changelings threw a towel at his face. “The magic that resurrected you was tainted.” the pyromancer commented as he examined the half-elf. “I used the potency of fire to sear away the corruption and quicken the fires of your spirit.” “Have I joined a cult?” Theodyl quipped. “No, ” Pyrus laughed. “but you and Paragon owe me a service.” “I still can't sleep, and now I'm sober too.” Theodyl pouted. “What the hell was that thing that came out of my mouth?” “Taint, Necromancy is an unclean Art.” Pyrus began to lecture, “You are quite lucky that Fire......” The changelings started to giggle as Theodyl dragged them off to bed. Pyrus continued to speak. Paragon drew the pyromancer's attention and convinced him to join the war-forged in the other room. Pyrus turned to see Patter and Siff curled up with one another on a pile of Theodyl's cushions. He then turned to see a pile of what should be Pook, Ivor and the half-elf. Somehow, Theodyl managed to sip from a bottle, while simultaneously wrestling with the others. Flesh people are damned strange. Paragon blocked the bedroom with a bookshelf as soon as Pyrus made his exit. Theodyl forgot about his troubles for a while. Ivor and Pook can be very sweet when they want to. They fight too often for it to be simple recreation. They play him as often as he plays them. Changelings do not think the same as humans, so he can get away with quite a lot. Despite his fickle, wandering attentions, he understands that they have something worthy. Theodyl is proud that he can tell them apart no matter what face they wear. He saw their eyes when they understood what transpired with the lich. Theodyl can't bear to hurt them again. He kissed Pook in the forehead and gently pulled a blanket over Ivor's sleeping form. The alcohol slowed the dream root, but he's drunk way too much of it to avoid the dreams for long. He fixed his gaze on the colorful mass of swirls and shapes intruding into his reality. Theodyl left his flesh behind and let the dreams take him away. Patter blinked the sleep away from his eyes. Siff has the blanked pulled over his face, it won't save him, he's supposed to be awake. Patter looked to Theodyl's bed. Ivor lost his shape in his sleep. Pook is still playing a girl. Changeling physiology scares the hell out of most humans, Theodyl either doesn't understand, or he doesn't care. As long as he continues to treat them well in any shape, Patter won't have to put a knife to him. “Um, Patter....” Siff nudged his lover. “Yeah, what?” Patter asked trying to imitate Theodyl's voice. “Trouble, I think.” Siff's tone cut through Patter's playful mood. The lich waved at the two changelings and helped itself to Javelin's chair in front of Theodyl's bed. Mooneye waved his hand at one of the half-elf's bookshelves and called forth a few choice volumes. “I am early for my appointment,” the lich spoke at the two lovers, “please, don't let me keep you from your fun.” Patter, stared at the lich for several long moments until Siff smacked him in the back of the head and sent him out to get Paragon. Siff walked over to the bath tub, scooped some water out with a bucket and started calling Theodyl to see if he would stir on his own. His eyes are open, but he is not in residence. The changeling gave his friends fair warning and then immediately splashed them with water before they could get away. Pook managed an incredibly lady-like scream, Ivor shifted to a male form to better punctuate his insults. Theodyl blinked, looked around and then rolled over to cuddle against Pook. She snapped her fingers in his face until he said something intelligible, then forcefully turned his face towards the lich. “Hello....er, what time is it?” The addled half-elf tried to speak. “It is now three minutes to midnight, I decided to come early.” The lich answered as it looked through Theodyl's spellbooks. “You aren't feeling a thing right now, are you? I half expected to find you at a church, or behind a warding circle.” “Hey, are those my books?!” “Your notation is rather advanced.” Mooneye commented, ignoring Theodyl's outrage. “I see also that your education is incomplete, you need a Master. One that can recognize your obvious talent.” “What do you mean by that?” Theodyl stood naked on his bed. “I mean that I can offer you that which you need most.” Mooneye replied. “Knowledge and Discipline.” The lich jabbed a bony finger at the half-elf and sent him into painful convulsions. “You need a strong hand to mold your talent.” Pyrus put an end to the small talk by dispelling the magic over Theodyl. Paragon dared the lich to kill Theodyl again. He meant it in the very best way possible. Pook and Ivor drew blades, and pulled the half-elf back. Theodyl sipped on some wine to clear his head. Pyrus and Mooneye stared each other down. Alternating waves of blistering heat and numbing chill battled within the room. “Hey, I have an idea. How's about you all go into the other room and allow me to get dressed?” Theodyl spoke up, drawing the center of attention back onto his person. Paragon 153 to 4 took some convincing. Pyrus helped by not setting the building on fire. The lich followed along, but mostly out of amusement. The girls gave Theodyl a smack a piece. He's pushing his luck again. The half-elf shook off the dream root and hurried to get organized. A brilliant plan formed in his mind sometime during the last several hours. He grinned stupidly while he struggled to get dressed before Paragon called the lich out. “Good Morning!” Theodyl's voice sang as he sauntered out his room with the beer stein in hand. The dwarven spirit told everyone to shut up and let him sleep. “Enough, Idiot! Get this taken care of already!” Paragon snapped. Mooneye broke away from his death stare with Pyrus. The changelings pulled their hoods away to show Theodyl their support. He planted a kiss on each and every one of his mirrored faces. Pyrus shook his head. Paragon harrumphed. “Master Mooneye, I have decided to apologize to you publicly.” Theodyl spoke, “Read this, it is my hope that this makes up for my trespasses against you.” The lich grasped the crisp new copy of the Sharn Anonymous. He pointed at Theodyl and held him in place with a spell. Mooneye read through the rag sheet once and then twice. The necromancer fixed his red unyielding gaze at the half-elf and then decided to read through the Sharn Anonymous once more. Pyrus looked to Paragon for a sign of how things are progressing. The war-forged pyromancer is way past the point where he would have let the fire have it's say. The lich seems like a worthy challenge however, tossing fire about may not be his best option. “You are serious about this?” the lich asked, allowing the full terror of it's gaze to weigh on Theodyl. “Tell me, why did you try to kill me?” “Because you were taking what is mine and I couldn't stop you any other way.” Theodyl replied firmly. “Are you willing to do that again?” “Only if you try to steal from me once more.” Mooneye sat back and shook his head. Paragon's jaw hung open. The lich chuckled, then started to laugh. The unpleasant sound made the changelings cringe. When the necromancer finally stopped, even the war-forged were much gladder for it. “Sleep, Theodyl.” Mooneye rasped as if winded. “When he wakes up, tell him that I am waiting for the file.” The lich chuckled at the unconscious half-elf. “He is not afraid of me, not one bit.” Mooneye the Necromancer summoned a dirty gray snow ball and tossed it at the pyromancer. By the time Paragon drew his blade and Pyrus shook the snow out of his face, the lich was gone. The changelings saw the shadows in the room swallow their unwelcome visitor. Paragon spent an hour poking every corner in the room with his cutlass. Pyrus read through the Sharn Anonymous. The changelings dragged the sleeping half-elf to bed and tied him down. Paragon has errands for them, the new rag sheet has to hit the streets. By the end of the week, Mooneye Rocco is going to be a household name throughout Sharn. Theodyl devoted the entire news sheet to the lich and how it saved the city from certain doom. The details about the Hag's Plague will cause trouble. Mooneye's biography will have the local clerics calling for his permanent destruction. It is as good an apology as Theodyl could give. The lich gets enough credit and notoriety to satisfy even his ego. The City Council is going to have fits. The bard gave the City Watch credit for wiping out an invading army of dolgrim. Theodyl even drafted a song to glorify their deeds. A simple, yet comical caricature depicting a Dog Soldier hacking away at a twisted goblin is included with the song. It is a series of lies so outrageous that there is no doubt the City of Sharn will believe them all. Even if a skeptic manages to find a hole in the story, they would be fighting an uphill battle to say otherwise. Sharn City Council is barely in charge of the city, they will go with whatever keeps the masses happy. [/QUOTE]
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