| ID: 730381 | |
| Murugan's Mailbox | |
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NPC
Lv.: 1 HP: 63 Aggression radius: 0m |
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Dialogs: (Each file is labeled with a name. Perhaps a recipient? You open one.) Dearest Friend, When a commander sendest thee to gate duty, demotest thee from the field, and then forgetest! Thou art doomed to play guard sergeant forever, watching woeful the least eventful door. Days run one into the next. I treat my fellows as broodmates, yet they bear me no love. Nor I them neither. I'faith, we are none of us easiest to love, only to beat at dice. I simply cheat better. Then HE arrives. I know him not but by his looks. Practically my twin, he dresses in court garb. On his way to the Lords, no doubt. I mirror his expressions as best I can. "More practice for most enterprise." If he sees not the use of a double, then he has not the mind I credit him. Truly, he can't let me pass. Murugan (Intrigued by this glimpse into Balic life, you open the next letter.) Dearest Friend, Mine twin of phiz names himself Surama and he visits at constant pace. I mimic his manner as we walk through the Capitol - I dressing in his raiment and he in mine. We perigrinate to a place called Drana Esoterrace, where enemies sometimes join their spilled blood and where my Surama becomes Warden of all. Love to the broodlings, and try to spare the one that bears my name! (Now that you think about it, you've met Murugan, though he doesn't bear much resemblance to Surama. Maybe it's a Balaur oddity? You open another letter.) Dearest Friend, Thinkest thou that watering plants is shameful? My troth, it is not. First, I toil for Surama, who knows my worth. Second, flares of combat give rise to crush weak Sapiens beneath our superiority. This day, a pocket of Reians appears, protesting treatment of a tree. Forsooth, a TREE. They flee before our might, and I wish to chase them down and smite them all. Surama forbids it. What does he plan for these piddling bugs? Why will he not share that plan with me? Murugan (One letter remains. May as well read them all!) Dearest Friend, My Surama hides more from me than we may speak of in letters! Today, I carry a sword. Tonight, I also carry a blade fragment. Surama denies his Lord and henceforth refuses Tiamat's authority. Long he bewails the gnawing of his soul, then he teases apart strings of Tiamat's control. With a mighty clang, his sword splits and Surama gives fragments of "Tiamat's Power" to myself and certain others. Shards go only to those unlikely to betray their whereabouts. With no weir-gift weapon in the Esoterrace, Tiamat neither sees nor hears the goings... ... nor flies her name in whispers and screams upon the unprompted Windstreams. My Surama plays a dangerous game, to tempt a Balaur Lord. I shall not let him fall. Murugan | |
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