Private Tales A Day in the Sun

[Cassandra Galanis]

There along a road in the countryside of the Allirian Reach, surrounded by wheat fields on one side and a treeline on the other, a gaunt young woman with red hair shambled forward like the living dead. The wind which gently blew over the wheat fields to her right, causing the stalks to sway, similarly seemed as if it might knock her over, as she clutched her side with her right arm, each step forward ragged and uncontrolled, threatening to be the last she would walk. Her eyes bore an untold exhaustion, occasionally flittering shut as her consciousness was waning the same way her steps were faltering, her very existence seeming like a candleflame which had reached the end of its wick, ready to be snuffed out by the lightest of breaths.

Yet her presence underlined a truth hidden to the naked eye: Cassandra was fighting for her very life, and her very right to exist. She bore a pendant with a swirling red liquid inside around her neck, inside which resided a terrible, ancient spirit that thirsted for the energy of the living. When it went hungry, it consumed Cassandra instead, and within the pendant, it could survive for some time until the next unfortunate fool happened by that could serve as a new vessel. It had chosen Cassandra for a surprising reason: hers was an assuming form, a thin 26 year-old woman that no person would suspect was capable of sucking a soul completely dry of its energy, a form able to deceive both man and woman, human and elf and dwarf and halfling, with incredible ease. After all, who didn't want to help the damsel in distress? Even if she bore a glowing blue sword in a worn scabbard on her hip?

It was this very act which caused Cassandra to act as she did now, for she bore a great and terrible guilt from the acts in which she had been complicit, playing the web to the Shade's spider, and forced to watch as it drained those unfortunate enough for her to come across. And after ten years of suffering, she was again at her limit, refusing to allow the Shade to take hold of her body, even as it was beginning to drain her very essence as a result, a suicidal act of defiance which saw her after only a few days beginning to be relieved of her living energy.

It was all well and good; Cassandra was prepared to die. At least then, she thought, she could be free at last from her waking nightmare. Yet when a figure appeared ahead on the road, she felt that unmistakable feeling arise in her chest, as she too began to thirst for life-essence. Maybe, she thought, the Shade could take over just one last time before she died, for she was feeling ever so parched at the moment, and giving in now would be so easy...

Be'Sennar The Redeemer

 

[Be'sennar]

Be'senaar had sensed corruption on the road, a dark spirit, and as was his sacred duty, he had decided to ride out to cleanse it. The Pantheon whispered warnings into his ears, Astra bolstered him, they had protected their Champion for centuries.

Even from this distance, he could note the shambling of the form, a sign of attempted possession, perhaps undead even. This wasn't some great calamity like the Battle of Allira, this was a simple task, one that made him think of years long past.

The closer he drew, the young woman and namely the shade about her neck could feel the holiness radiating from him. His now glowing eyes shifting to the amulet about her neck. The earlier sense was wrong, she was not some demon nor undead, the item she bore was cursed.

He slowed his courser to a full stop. "Hail, friend. Are you okay?" He already knew the answer, it was evident in her gait. As he spoke, he reached for a canteen of water and held it out to her. "You look as if you need nourishment, child."

Cassandra Galanis

 

[Cassandra Galanis]

Cassandra didn't know quite what would happen when she encountered the stranger on the road, but seeing someone--perhaps a knight--clad in full armor and atop a healthy horse was just about one of the worst things she imagine could have come along at a time like this. Like the Shade, she preferred physically weak targets, as they put up less of a fight when being subdued, which meant that when the Shade was done fighting, she didn't have to deal with the pain of recovering from a 'good' fight. Her body was lean yet surprisingly muscular, at least, as much as could be given her near-constant state of malnutrition; her real strength came from the ensorcellment when the Shade took control of her body, converting the stored energy into fighting directly.

The choice here was hard; she didn't think she could keep going, so she would have to take her chances that she could recover enough strength before this one could hurt her, or otherwise. Thankfully, touch was enough to begin the insidious process, perhaps one she could use by resorting to a tactic she commonly had from do-gooders and ne'er-do-wells alike: playing the weak, helpless, defenseless woman that she no doubt looked like with her ragged clothes and thin body.

So when the stranger offered his water, she took it, her fingers brushing against his as she did so, offering a soft and polite 'thank you'. Even that was enough for the process to begin, enough for the Shade to have transferred some modicum of energy, and while they had no idea who this man even was, the Shade's reaction was enough to signal that this was someone of power. Cassandra's ingenuity had worked out for the Shade yet again, at least temporarily.

Cassandra was thankful for the water, drinking a few gulps before handing it back to the stranger, 'accidentally' bumping her fingers into his as she handed it back. She gave a warm smile to him, the kind she often offered to men when she was hunting. The kind of smile, she thought, a wolf spider must give a fly before it struck.

"You got here just in time," she said, her voice gentle, docile. "I was parched... and I forgot my own back home. That'll teach me to forget, silly me..."

Be'Sennar The Redeemer

 

[Be'sennar]

As expected, something was immediately off. All it took was the gentle brush of her finger against his gauntlet for him to feel the sickness trying to breach him. It would find no purchase, its ichor melting away with a gentle soft glow of his gauntlet.

He watched her wordlessly and when she attempted to hand it back he wouldn't reach for it. "Nono. You take it, you're in far greater need then I. The gods provide the sustenance I need." His tone was still gentle, almost fatherly, though his horse stepped away from her.

He pitied her for whatever she sought to do next. And though he prepared to be the bulwark against the darkness, he showed nothing of it, nothing but kindness. "You should take care upon these roads, child. Not so many days past a great horde once marched where we now stand. To where are you headed?"

Cassandra Galanis