Miri's Miraculously Magical Mischief

Zerthimon smiles again. Both Miri’s words and her actions have obviously pleased him. But this time when Miri looks, she can see fangs. Swirling shadows boil up from Zerthimon’s skin.

He says, “You are now, as you were then, here at the behest of the Lady Herself, the Lady of Loss. You see, I am one of the Lady’s Chosen—or rather, I am so close to being one as makes no practical difference for our purposes today.” Zerthimon sits down on the bed, very close to where Miri herself sits. “As to why you are here… Let us hold that a moment. Instead, let me tell you something of our church. I would very much like for you to join our church, Miri. You are quick, subtle, resourceful. Beautiful. You wield the power of the Shadow Weave. Truly, you are a natural Sharran, Miri. You would do well to become one in name as well.

“But the Lady is not merely the patron of loss and darkness. She is also the Lady of Secrets. And so I tell you that joining our Cause requires a very special kind of sacrifice. You must pray to the Lady, in silence, telling her your Very Own Secret, a secret which you have never told another. With this sacrifice is the Pact sealed and the power of the Lady yours to call upon.”
Zerthimon shrugs and then leans back, giving ground and allowing Miri a bit more personal space. “Of course, it is a big step. One I do not expect you to take without due consideration.

“However, I will offer you a trade without your having offered a Secret.”
At this, Zerthimon produces a small crystalline orb from somewhere within the folds of his robe. “If you will tell me a secret, Miri, then I will tell you one. And trust me… the secret that I offer is a good one. Merely tell me how it is that your friend Ginagel came back from the dead with the Iron Crown of Shadows, and I will tell you… well, something that I think you need to know, anyway. Something that, honestly, I think you will be glad to have learned.”

As Zerthimon comes closer, Miri tries again to hide her heighten emotion. Working hard to control herself she listens intently to his words, at times getting lost in his dark aura, missing key words yet somehow still knowing their meaning. He has her now, body and soul. He pulls away and she awakens from her fantasies. She continues to listen as Zerthimon offers her his special prize.

She looks at the Orb, trying to glean some indication of its power. She then moves in closer and puts her hand around his that holds the orb, while putting her other on his chest and leans into him and whispers in his ear the secret he asks for. After done, she moves away and says, "Secrets should be whispered." She takes another slice of apple and another sip of wine.

She then kneels on the floor and prays to the Dark Lady. SIlently she tells her of her family ties. Something that she has hidden for a long time. She is a descendant of Tila Tremont. A powerful illusionist, who also used her talents for assasination to help the cause of the Sharran, Tila was part of the group who helped Shar convince Ciric to kill Mystra. Miri is a descendant of Shar's chosen. She has longed for the Goddess to find her and acknowledge her skills. She has waited for this moment her entire life. And has hidden her family connection to be able to bring her to this moment. She is now ready in power and will to execute the will of the Dark Goddess.

Miri, in fact, does not know exactly how Ginagel returned from the dead. None of the Sellswords do, save perhaps for Ginagel himself. She does, however, know that her companion considers himself to be a Chosen of Bane and the physical embodiment of Gruumsh as well. Whether he actually is a Chosen or is merely aggrandizing himself with lofty titles is another question. All of this she tells Zerthimon, seeing in the process that she is not exactly giving him information so much as confirming that which he already suspected.

Zerthimon leans back and begins thinking out loud. “So… Bane,” he says, [b]“I suppose I should have known. With the Zhentarim involved, it was either the Black Lord or the Mad One. And it was too much to hope that it would be Cyric making this move. Still… what can the Black Lord hope to accomplish with the Crown?”

At length, Zerthimon looks up again, fixing Miri with his eyes. “You asked why the Dark Lady wants the Crown, why she considers it Hers? It is because the Crown is a work of Her creation—an artifact of Her power, enabling a high priest of Her choosing to travel at will between any point in all Creation and the Shadowfell. A priest of sufficient power could even use the Crown to open portals from the Shadowfell outwards, to other dimensions—other planes of existence.

“I need the Crown, Miri. With it—and Ginagel’s head on a pike—the Lady will finally give me that which She has promised. I will become one of Her Chosen in fact as well as in name, and my colony in Ched Nassad will be elevated to a position of equality with those idolatrous surfacers, the Netherese. Then and only then will I be in position to challenge Rivalen for dominance among the faithful. But first I need the Crown!

“Ahh, but I promised you a secret,”
Zerthimon says. With this, he holds forth the orb, inviting Miri to stare deeply into its depths. “I believe you know Desmond Canning. The others are Bannite Zhents, unless I very much miss my guess. I observed this earlier but knew not what to make of it before now.”

Miri’s gaze is drawn down into the orb and the swirling mists within. These soon resolve themselves into a dark and bloody scene. Desmond is there, strapped cruciform to some kind of table or altar. Desmond’s chest is bare, and around him are crouched a handful of tiny creatures, almost like adolescent girls with pale, unearthly skin. These hover and pounce, writhing like vipers across Desmond’s naked chest. Blood flows freely from at least a dozen wounds. For his part, Desmond’s face oscillates between bliss and agony, and though he appears to be fighting it, it is clear to Miri that he is slowly but surely succumbing to the effects of this torture/seduction.

“Look what they are doing to him, Miri. They are corrupting him, turning him into a Bannite! But if you bring me the Iron Crown of Shadows—and Ginagel himself!—then I and the Lady will help you save your lover—or at least avenge his loss!”

Zerthimon stands and begins to walk towards the door. “Well, you have much to think on, my dear. Go now. But know that the Lady will be watching you.”

Over the past few days, Miri has begun to hear Shar's voice in her mind. Lately, it has begun to fill her with power.

Miri leaves Vurkle's home and heads to her own. She enters the tavern and bids the keep hello. Walking to her floor of rooms swiftly, she also stops to bid the help hello along the way. She searches the many rooms and finds that Desmond is not at home. She looks for a note from him, indicating where he has gone.

Yup. I'm trying to keep it all in the main thread for now, though. Been a little busy for the private threads these past weeks.

Dannoe is it possible to rework my character a bit. I want to make her a wizard with assassin multiclass. I should have a WAAAAY better to hit at 13th level.

Yup. We'll do that right after this fight. I was just discussing it with Shadeus the other day, and we lamented the loss of the Arcane Trickster from 3.5 for Miri. Whatever you want to do is fine with me. But with that said, Miri has been great, and I think she's plenty effective for the most part.


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