To: Xia Fan Long
From: Amchan Namie

Master,

I apologize for the tardiness of this letter, but a great many things have I witnessed since we last spoke. A little more than a week ago, I was contacted by Valon -- my former brother in arms, and your former student. We all knew he was banished from our Order, but his banishment was always kept in secrecy from the lower ranks. I now understand why the Order has been forbidden to speak with this man.

His collaboration with the witch, Najena, destroyed his spirit and his body. The magical properties infused into his being made him much stronger than any of us, but also poisoned his body in the process. I use past tense because I fear that our former comrade is dead, master – and I will tell you how this came to be.

Valon contacted me on a discovery -- ancient tomes harbored deep within Najena’s lair. He spoke of a prophecy that circled around “nothingness” as if it was a living entity. This entity is prophesized to be manifesting itself on Norrath and taking the form of a child. Seeing Valon’s weakened condition and state of mind lead me to believe that he could be insane. But nonetheless, I listened. This was, after all, a dying man, and if listening would comfort him then I would do so. Valon claimed to have seen this child in the towers of Mistmoore and firmly believed that if left alive, she would be the world’s undoing. At this point, I was ready to leave, but he then revealed to me that his condition was not only a side affect of the magical infusions he received from the witch, but also a sort of brain fever inflicted upon him from this child. His dying wish was for me to accompany him to Mistmoore and smite her for the good of Norrath. I could not promise him the death of this child, but I did promise him the company he so desperately desired.

We made the trek to Mistmoore and were duly dismissed by the guards since he was a bastion of Najena. As we drew closer to the chambers of the child, a regiment of guards ambushed us and a fight ensued. I prayed to our Lord, Quellious, for strength and strength, I received. Valon, on the other hand began to suffer as the guards committed blow after blow to his weak frame. He motioned for me to go on without him and find the child.

I finally reached my destination and opened the door. Before me was a Teir`Dal child staring me down – as if she knew I was coming. She then squinted her tiny red eyes and I began to convulse. The lapse was very brief and when I regained my composure I could hear her thoughts in my head.

“Save me,” is all she could convey.

The guards then entered the room. I was cornered. I did not have time to act, so I crashed through the window and used my safe fall skills to take minimal damage. I ran to the nearest Faydwerian outpost and nursed my wounds for a few days. Since then, I have not been able to get this child’s thoughts out of my head. I undoubtedly believe that she has infected me with the same brain disease as Valon. I do not know what happened to our former brother, but I can only assume he perished at the hands of Mistmoore’s guard.

Whatever the outcome may be from here, master, I will need to go back to Mistmoore and confront this child. Otherwise, I fear that my life may be in jeopardy. I await your council master.

Amchan

Brother Amchan,

I thank you for sending this urgent and personal news to me. The loss of Brother Valon does not come to the Order as a shock, but the suffering he endured will hopefully serve as a lesson to those who think they can play with life so recklessly. Quellious did not create us to endure the type of experimentations Brother Valon sought with magicks. As our minds are pure, so must remain our physical being.

As for the news you’ve relayed to me, I have taken it to our scholars and wise men in Freeport, Qeynos, and Rathe Mountains. No one could confirm the legitimacy of this prophecy, let alone the child you spoke of. I will continue to research this subject and will let you know of any findings I may discover.

For now, I wish for you to rest and visit the Temple of Life in Freeport. Perhaps the Priests of Marr have a cure for your ailment. I advise against your planned trip return to Mistmoore, and I request you cease this personal crusade until I can investigate the subject further and give your claim some credibility. Only then can the Order support your actions.

Xia Fan Long

Part 3: An Excerpt From Amchan's Journal

I returned from the Temple of Marr yesterday.

The priests were just as baffled over the condition as anyone. I revealed as much as I could to them but alas, it seems that no cure is in sight. Afterwards, I paid Archel a visit and told her everything out of confidence. She seemed a bit skeptical about the whole story (much like I was initially), but I finally convinced her to make the journey with me to that accursed castle. We leave tomorrow at sunset.

Despite the recent urgings of Master Fan Long to cease my actions regarding the incident in Mistmoore, I am taking it upon myself to go against his wishes. Each day the voice of that child rings through my head. She is calling for me, and I know a confrontation with her will draw out the answers I seek. I hope.

Amchan

End of Journal

Part 4: An Except From The Journal of Amchan

Earlier this evening, I met with three commanders from the Knights of Phoenix. With them, I drew out a strategy in which we would infiltrate Mistmoore undetected and confront the child. The members for this operation would include myself, Archel – a Champion of Marr, Sobana – a Priestess of Tunare, and Fyre – a Druidess of Tunare. The plan was to have Fyre transport us in under the cover of dark. Mistmoore is an unholy place and it would be stupid to leave a druidess alone without the protection of a Priest. So, Fyre and Sobana would wait for Archel and I near the Mistmoore border. If we hadn’t returned within an hour, they were instructed to leave and return with reinforcements from Felwithe.

Much to her dismay, I finally convinced Archel to lose the plate armor and wear something a bit more quiet with leather armor. This was, after all, a covert mission, and her rattling chains and plate would get us nowhere. Since she is not accustomed to using her bare hands for possible wetwork encounters, I urged her to bring a small dagger.

An hour after the sun had set, Fyre conjured the portal and we made our way to Castle Mistmoore. It had been more than two weeks since Valon and I infiltrated the fortress, so the guard rotation and patrol routes were seemingly back normal. Archel and I lucratively sneaked our way pasts the patrols and scaled the walls of the castle with grappling hooks and ropes.

More than half an hour had past and time was expiring. We descended into the grand hallway near the towers and as we landed, Archel took a swipe at me with her dagger. I reacted promptly and caught her wrist before she could land her thrust. I then demanded to know what in Quellious’ name was she was doing and then it hit me. It wasn’t Archel… but it was. It was her voice, but her form had changed – and so had mine. Someone had weaved a spell to give us the appearance of Mistmoore Guards. Archel withdrew her weapon upon hearing my voice and we then decided that it was too late to turn back. If this was a trap, then we had already fallen into it. We could only move forward and with any luck, find this child.

A few minutes later, we stood in front of the child’s bed chamber. As I reached to turn the doorknob, the door creaked ajar. I pushed the door in and before us was the Teir`Dal child sitting on her bed. She glanced at me with her red eyes and I dropped to the floor – in a matter of seconds, I had known every moment and every second of this child’s life. Archel rushed over to help me but the child somehow froze the paladin from taking any action. I told Archel not to do anything and I slowly picked myself up. My head was pulsating and the pain, feverish. The child stood up before me and placed her hand on my forehead. The pain subsided and I took the her into my arms, motioning to Archel that it was time to go.

Archel squinted at me with extreme prejudice. There would be a reckoning and costly ramifications if we took one of Mistmoore’s citizens. But there was no time to argue. All I could tell her was to trust me. She nodded to me reluctantly and the child enveloped us with some kind of invisibility screen. Quiet and ever so cautiously, we were able to literally walk out of the castle and its grounds undetected. We reached Fyre and Sobana, who were unharmed, and returned to the home of the Knights.

By the time we reached the fortress of the Knights, the child was fast asleep in my arms. We placed her in a warm bed and deliberated on what our next course of action should be. It was decided it would be best if I joined their ranks and take up a permanent residence in their domain. And though they promise to protect me and this child, I’m terribly worried that the forces of Mistmoore will retaliate. I’ve made a grave mistake by asking for their help. I’ve gotten this lot involved in what was supposed to be a personal pilgrimage. I can only hope that things will play out as they should and we will emerge unscathed.

The voices in my head have gone quiet… for now. And the child, Deamentia, is still fast asleep. Yes, her name is Deamentia… Deamentia K`Tianna. I must consult with the others now. I shall enter more later.

Amchan

End of Journal

Part Five - Archel's words

The merriment in the castle seems no longer to affect my friend Amchan who remains in his quarters often writing feverishly - I am sure this is caused by the dark elf child he has brought to us. I am unsure of the purpose of all this, but my heart aches to see my brother suffer this way. I will do all in my power to aid him yet at the same time I fear for the others of us. This dark elf although young is a stranger and could be a dangerous prisoner to keep. Why did we take this girl captive from Mistmoor? I ask Amchan but he waves me away, his only confidante is the parchment he writes upon.

The capture of the girl was much too easy...for us to walk so simply into a fortress like Mistmoor and leave without being detected by the countless guards. How ashamed I felt, I was a murderess clutching that dagger, and how close I came to the most dishonorable of acts...to stab my foe from behind when in truth it was my brother! How unfitting for a knight of Marr, if I may still be called so, to lurk so treacherously, to take prisoner a child who has never done me harm. Even above this shame, I feel that our success is part of a terrible trap. I have been sworn to silence, yet if this creature harms any of us I will tell everything...but Amchan, what can be done for him now? I watch this girl who so fascinates him and I know she watches me. She is fond of the dark and rarely walks our halls and at night I am certain it is her form passing by my door - walking up to where Amchan sits sleeplessly. All this wretchedness is her doing, but I am powerless to stop it.

Part 6: Appended Notes From The Journal of Amchan

Appended Text:

There’s a certain level of uneasiness around the castle these days. I have become under much scrutiny as word of our actions in Mistmoore has spread. I seldom leave my quarters, and when I do it’s for prayer at the temple, or to see the child. When I am seen, I can feel my comrades’ eyes on my back as they whisper to one another about the fallen monk, Amchan. To say that this kind of gossip does not pierce my soul would be a lie. My honor is my soul, and my soul is fading.

I, like my fallen brother, Valon, am now rogue.

I’ve have no contact with The Order or Master Fan Long, though I’m sure my current state of silence will arouse her suspicions. Sooner or later, the Order will seek me out and I will have to explain myself. Excommunication will most likely be the justice they deliver to me.

I do not look forward to that day.

Meanwhile, I continue to suffer from brain trauma. Obviously, it’s linked to what Deamentia has given me, but I’m not sure if this is just a side effect that will pass or a chronic illness that will eventually put an end to me. The headaches have become more and more intense with each day, and they seem to be at their zenith when the child is active and roaming about. Quellious forgive these thoughts, but I have even hypothesized that perhaps killing the child will drive these demons out of my head. There has to be an alternative. There must.

As for the girl, her thoughts continue to float inside my head, and I’ve concluded that she cannot read mine – however, she seems to possess a keen sense of empathy, which enables her to read myself and others. She’s a very powerful child who’s seen nothing but hardships throughout her life. I sense for the first time that she is truly free, but the dilemma we face here in the castle is her appetite. The girl has been damned by Mistmoore himself, and daily she lusts for blood. On occasion, she has, with much frenzy, attacked fellow Knights: Archel, Aenelilae, Agantis, and Fyre.

This cannot be allowed to continue, yet, I stand idly by, locked away from the horrors she tries to commit. They think I’ve been bewitched by this vampire child or maybe even damned by her myself. I must take action soon and show myself, otherwise I risk losing what little trust I have left in these noble people.

Tomorrow, I will visit the knowledgeable Priests and Scholars of Tunare in Felwithe. Perhaps one of them might have a remedy for my illness.

Amchan

Copyright by Deamentia K'Tianna. Permission needed to reproduce in any medium.

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