@Device(PostScript) @Make(Report) @Style(Spacing 1.5, Leftmargin 0.75 inch, Rightmargin 0.75 inch, SingleSided, Font = TimesRoman, Size 10) @comment(Set these values appropriately for each character profile) @string(name="Hadoram allo-Sara Madai ") @string(realname="Hadoram allo-Sara Madai ") @string(playername="Player Name") @string(id="878645") @include (/mit/abstract/Characters/Sheets/cover.mss) @MajorHeading(@value(realname)) "The time has arrived." The message was cryptic, and unsigned, but there was no doubt that it belonged to the Darkholder Prime, leader of the followers of Chthon known as the Darkholders. There was furthermore no doubt as to its meaning, since you and your fellow Darkholders have been waiting for months for this time, when the Hellgate shall be opened and the minions of the Abyss shall come forth and do your bidding. Yea, on that day the trumpets of doom shall sound, heralding the victory and the glory of the God Chthon, the Great Destroyer, the Ender of All, He Who Clears the Way. Okay, okay, so maybe you're overdoing the "heralding trumpets of doom" bit. But you're entitled; it isn't every day a man in his twenties from the suburbs of Mirkwood County gets to take over the world. Think of the publicity! The girls! The power! The girls! And to think, you owe it all --indirectly, of course-- to a scrap of paper you found while exploring some hidden caverns in Mirkwood Park a couple of months ago. A page that belonged to an ancient Tome of Power called the Darkhold, you later discovered, but it was more than just a page of a spellbook. It was an item of power in its own right, and through it you were contacted by the High Priest of Chthon, who offered you a place among the Chosen, who would rule the world when the tome was complete. You accepted. The Darkholder Prime instructed you to go about your life normally, achieving whatever positions of power you could, and when the time arrived for the Church of Chthon to take over, you would be by their side. You left home after discovering the Darkhold page, and moved to Capital City, bringing your life's savings with you. About a week later, you had lost most of that on drinks, doxies (you had heard about the House of the Veil even in East Mirkwood, and they certainly lived up to their reputation...) and gambling, so you had to find a job or starve. Or something like that, anyway; you soon ended up on the street, supporting yourself by mugging passersby. In the meantime, you continued to gamble and visit the ladies at the Veil when you could afford it. You had discovered a small casino on a sidestreet that gave the best odds in town, and one day you were sitting at the blackjack tables when a man at another table grabbed a double fistful of pursestrings and ran for the exit. Seeing a chance, you tackled and dropped him, quickly pocketing about fifty Stars in the brief scuffle. The man was led off. You were turning those Stars into a small fortune at the craps table when you were informed "the boss" wanted to speak to you. You groaned inwardly, figuring your theft had been spotted and you were going to lose your winnings, but when you were ushered into the dimly lit office and the door closed behind you, you realized not all was as it seemed. You couldn't make out the features of the man behind the desk, and his voice was soft and muffled, but the deal he was proposing was plain. He and his organization needed someone to keep an eye on the games, to make sure nobody was cheating and stop anyone who tried to take off; he was offering you the job. There was something fishy about that. "Why not call in the Guard of the Realm?" you asked him. His only response was a low, throaty laugh that grew quickly louder. Suddenly, you caught on -- this was an illegal, unlicensed gambling ring, run by the Thieves' Guild! No wonder they had to hire their own protection! Well, you @i(did) need a job, so you accepted the offer, and became a part of the Thieves' Guild. After all, what was a little unlicensed gambling to a man who would soon rule the world? The job proved reasonably useful on several occassions, both directly and indirectly. You were often asked to remove players who had overspent themselves, and one evening one such player, a regular customer who had the gambling bug as bad as you did, put up more of a fight than usual. As you were depositing him on the street, he frantically explained he was from the Smith's Guild, and that he had just lost a silver bracelet on a bet that was worth anything to him, and threatened to complain to the Guildmaster and close down the casino if something wasn't done! Well, you couldn't let him complain to the Guildmaster, but you didn't want to kill him right outside the casino, so you started haggling. By anything, he meant @i(anything), in spades... which is how you ended up with a signed-over license to deal in fine and antique weapons, in exchange for enough credit to gamble with. You had never heard of a guilded merchant giving up his license, not in a city where getting any sort of craftman's job required joining the House of Guilds. That bracelet must have been @i(really) valuable. Every once in a while similar incidents have occured, and you've bought odd trinkets off of people desperate for just a little more cash, enough to win back whatever it was they'd lost. In addition to your job with the casino and your position as a merchant (not that you ever spent much time in your booth), you found yourself spending a lot of time at the House of the Veil. Eventually, you offered your services to Lilith, the madam, as a bouncer and general muscleman, in exchange for her services -- it seemed to you like a better idea than having to pay her all the time for her girls. She looked you over once, twice, and again, and you'll never forget the look in her eyes -- chilling, cold, dark. Finally, she nodded, saying "Yes, I think you'll do quite well..." At the time, that was a little disconcerting. Lilith put you to work as a guard Your job with the casino netted you some contacts around the Thieves' Guild, as well, including Chalideans Tuvan, connected with their black market operations. Tuvan was a mage, also, and he hinted to you that if you ever needed a job done, he might have some friends who could accomplish it. You took him up on it about two weeks ago, after you decided to visit the Capital City Art Gallery and saw the painting titled "The Wizard," a portrait of a mage poring over an old tome. It was a masterpiece, its original artist unknown, and incredibly dark and eerie...but what caught your eye was the book in the painting, open to a page mostly obscured but still unmistakably the same spidery scrawl that covered the page of the Darkhold you kept concealed in your cloak. Somehow, that painting was connected to the Darkhold, and you wanted it. You contacted Tuvan and told him you wanted "The Wizard" stolen and delivered to you. You were strapped for cash at the time, but you had come across a spellbook in your line of work and you figured Tuvan might be interested in it, being a mage. It certainly wasn't doing you any good; you couldn't open it. So you offered it to him as payment, and he accepted the deal -- rather quickly, actually. The thought of finding even more of the Darkhold excited you tremendously, so when you received your payment at the end of the week you went straight to the House of the Veil. You didn't really need the aphrodesiac that Charity offered you, but it didn't hurt, and you spent a very pleasant evening together. In retrospect, it was the last normal day you've had in the week since. The next day you went to your shop on Merchant's Row (you weren't much of a salesman, but you had to keep up appearances--and besides, occassionally you did sell a weapon or two) to find a middle-aged gentleman in a silver robe standing at the door, asking how much you were charging for your entire stock. You blinked. He was still there. You named an outlandish figure. He haggled, you haggled, you eventually settled on a price (actually a bit on the low side, 4000 Stars for your collection, but you were too stunned to bargain properly), and he produced a mythril portal he keyed to you. You had never seen one before, since only the truly rich ever used them, but you knew that all you had to do was concentrate and the portal would deliver your payment to you in Stars. Useful when you don't want to carry large sums around--unforgable, and nobody can use it but the person it's keyed to. Convenient. You closed your shop and hit the casino. It was gone, moved to Chthon only knows where, leaving you down two jobs and @i(very) confused. On the other hand, you had more money than you'd had at one time in your entire life, and with nothing else to do with your time you spent the night with Charity again. The next day you received a visit from Scorpion, a Clan merchant, and you chatted about all sorts of things. He mentioned wanting to make some purchases, you mentioned being out of stock for awhile, etc...he must have left at some point, since you woke up later that evening feeling quite well-rested and vital. The next several days are a blur for you, though...you remember meeting with Joel, your pit boss at the casino, who mentioned something about the Castle; you remember visiting Charity again, and some kind of dance going on, and some chanting, but nothing very clear. The next thing you remember is waking up in a dark, cold room, floating naked in a tub of viscous, vile-smelling gel. You climbed out of the tub, stiff as a board, and started looking for an exit and some clothes. Well, you found a number of things, including about a dozen tubs filled with the same liquid, some containing bodies as well. You didn't investigate too closely, though, being just a little sickened by the whole affair. You found a faintly glowing white disk, and using the light it shed finally discovered an exit, as well as a blanket you used to wipe yourself off with and a worgskin rug you tied around your waist. Vile-smelling, sore, incredibly cold and practically naked, you made your way home to discover a message waiting for you: "The time has come." Along with it was an invitation to a teleport platform in the City, where you would be taken to Castle Kalerege. Somewhere along the line you had lost 4000 Stars, a good knife, your best cloak, a couple of days, and the page of the Darkhold that started it all. You had missed your planned meeting with Tuvan, although he seems to be on the Castle along with the Wizard's Conclave. Things have been better. On the other hand, you are on Kalere'ge's Castle, and you are soon to be a very influential man, capable of obtaining for yourself all the luxuries of the world: good food, good women, good wine, good times. Especially good women. Despite everything that's gone wrong, you are going to help take over the world. Things could definitely be worse. You have only one question: when did you lose control? @newpage @heading(Items and Abilities) You begin the game with the following items: @begin(itemize) A locked black book labelled "@g(D E T)" A burnished black ring you won in a poker game A faintly glowing white disk A foul-smelling worgskin rug An old grey cloak, smelling somewhat of mothballs @end(itemize) You have the following abilities: @begin(itemize) Compulsive Gambler Weapon Skill, Knife 4. Speed Subdual, barehanded. Nymphomania @end(itemize) @newpage @include(/mit/abstract/Guides/lore.creation.mss) @include(/mit/abstract/Guides/lore.chthon.mss) @include(/mit/abstract/Guides/guide.realm.mss) @section(Organizations) @include(/mit/abstract/Organizations/guild.thieves.mss) @include(/mit/abstract/Organizations/gambling.mss) @include(/mit/abstract/Organizations/darkholders.mss)