Krin, Phantom Hunter says, "To be honest I knew it all, already."

You look skeptical and say, "I know you did."

You stick out your tongue and say to Krin, "Which is why I told you there was little need to go over it."

Krin, Phantom Hunter says, "Had to make sure I knew what was required."

Out of the corner of your eye, you can't help but notice that one of the large idols seems to be staring intently at you.

Krin, Phantom Hunter says, "With the false memory concept from crow, I can never remember what it is I remember."

Shifting your gaze to the idol, you say to Krin, "We merely respect His aspects. Use them when necessary, but don't follow them religiously."

Barely audible, faint metallic clicks reach your ears as something shifts ever so slightly at the edge of your vision.

Krin, Phantom Hunter says, "I guess, having met most of the greater spirits, I enjoy Crow the most."

You wave your hand dismissively.

You say, "I suppose that it can't be helped."

Krin, Phantom Hunter says, "Although the time I spent with Hart was interesting."

You say, "I've never met either, personally."

Krin, Phantom Hunter says, "Well the only interaction with Hart was when a group and I took the spear of the Elder god Charune, and killed it for good or so we figured."

A set of ruby eyes glance down from one of the idols behind Krin, watching him quietly.

You say to Krin, "If you'll excuse me? We can finish this discussion later."

Krin, Phantom Hunter says, "Not much left to discuss."

Your eyes sparkle with amusement.

You say, "Indeed."

You say to Krin, "You may go, dear, if you wish."

Krin stands up and stretches his arms out wide.
(Krin leaves)

You turn her gaze to the ruby eyes of the idol.

(look)
The Shrine of the Idols.
Dominated by five crudely carved stone statues opposing the small door in a half-circle, this room's walls, ceiling and floor are entirely covered in white, untarnished marble. Each statue depicts one of the Nekotai's idols: Spider, crouched with eyes of ruby. Wasp, arched with emerald stinger ready. Beetle, crouched ready to burrow with sapphire legs. Bat, wrapped in onyx wings. Snake, coiled with long jade fangs bared. In each corner of the room, bowls with large, open fires are held by the claws of marble scorpions. Placed in the middle of the half-circle of statues, an empty podium carved out of onyx rests. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground.
You see a single exit leading east.

Faintly, you murmur, "I don't remember feeling so watched before.."

A lonely petals drift through the hall on a stray breeze, hitting you squarely in the face before slipping down to your hand.

Your eyes widen slightly and the corner of your right eye starts to tic uncontrollably.

You ponder a small blackthorn petal thoughtfully, looking it up and down.

You murmur, "Who's there.."

You cast your gaze around, holding the petal between your thumb and index finger.

(look petal)
An eerie white, this tiny petal has been separated from a blackthorn tree. The petal is completely unassuming and uninteresting except for a tiny black smudge on one end, as if that section of the petal had been dipped in black ink.

You become still, peering at each idol in turn, irritation apparent in your eyes.

You use the last of the paints on your palette.
With a careful eye, you balance a palette of paints in one hand and prop a canvas on your knee. After pondering a small blackthorn petal's profile, you attack the canvas with furious brush strokes and soon have created a painting of a small blackthorn petal.

You peer at a small blackthorn petal unscrupulously.

You ask, "Lord Nocht?"

You ask, "Mistress Viravain?"

You drum your fingers impatiently.

(probe painting)
The pain on this canvas has been smudged, forming unnerving patterns of blotched blacks and grays.
It has 253 months of usefulness left.
It weighs about 37 pounds.
It bears the distinctive mark of Lady Somaria Makiare`, of Sinful Radiance.

You blink.

(look painting)
The pain on this canvas has been smudged, forming unnerving patterns of blotched blacks and grays.

You stare implacably at a blank painting.

You pause, breathe catching in you throat as you stare at your artwork.

You murmur, ".. It.."

You stare implacably at a small blackthorn petal.

You peer at a blank painting unscrupulously.

You stroke delicate silver prayer beads tenderly.

You murmur, "I dislike my art being tampered with.."

Gazing at the Petal, you murmur, "Highly displeasing."

You tell Lord Deathchord Daedalion Rillaen, the Prince of Mourning, "Darling?"

Daedalion tells you, "Yes, love?"

You say, "I'm sure you will know where to find me when you feel like taking credit for the destruction of my painting."

You wrinkle your nose and sniff.

As your hand brushes against the emblem, the ruby eyes of the scorpion flash a brilliant red. You step back as the walls shake, and dozens of arms burst out of the symbol, wrapping around you and dragging you outside.

You tell Lord Deathchord Daedalion Rillaen, the Prince of Mourning, "Come to me?"

Daedalion tilts his head curiously at you.

You crease your brow in a frown.

You give a painting of a small blackthorn petal to Lord Deathchord Daedalion Rillaen, the Prince of Mourning.

You blink.

Your eyes widen slightly and the corner of your right eye starts to tic uncontrollably.

Daedalion scratches his head in confusion.

You say, "Give that back."

Daedalion gives a painting of a small blackthorn petal to you.

(probe painting)
An eerie white, this tiny petal has been separated from a blackthorn tree. The petal is completely unassuming and uninteresting except for a tiny black smudge on one end, as if that section of the petal had been dipped in black ink.
It has 253 months of usefulness left.
It weighs about 37 pounds.
It bears the distinctive mark of Lady Somaria Makiare`, of Sinful Radiance.

Frustrated, you exclaim to Daedalion, "It was ruined!"

You wave a small blackthorn petal about energetically.

You say, "I painted this.."

Looking skeptical, Lord Deathchord Daedalion Rillaen, the Prince of Mourning murmurs, "It looks fine to me."

You say, "But when I looked at the painting a moment after, it was smudged.."

You say, "It was ruined, Dae.."

Daedalion gives you a concerned look.

Upset, you say to Daedalion, "Dae.. I mean it."

Your lower lip begins to tremble as your eyes fill with heavy tears.

Daedalion wraps a comforting arm around you.

You touch the painting, staring at it quietly.

(look painting)
An eerie white, this tiny petal has been separated from a blackthorn tree. The petal is completely unassuming and uninteresting except for a tiny black smudge on one end, as if that section of the petal had been dipped in black ink.

You murmur, "It was ruined.."

Nodding to you consolingly, Lord Deathchord Daedalion Rillaen, the Prince of Mourning says to you, "I'm sure it was completely broken into peices, dear."

Something unseen brushes your hair aside, murmuring in your ear, "What is ruined can be fixed."

You shiver violently.

Seemingly at nothing, you whine, "What do you want.."

Frowning, Lord Deathchord Daedalion Rillaen, the Prince of Mourning murmurs, "You called me here, what else would I be here for."

Chilling murmurs echo from behind you, "What do you want?"

You shift your fingers into your hair, dropping the painting abruptly and whimpering softly.

Daedalion shifts his eyes over you with a look of suspicion.

Almost to herself, you murmur, "Why are you here.."

Daedalion shifts his eyes suspiciously from side to side.

Raising an eyebrow, Lord Deathchord Daedalion Rillaen, the Prince of Mourning asks you, "Are you having one of those moments where I should leave you alone to talk to yourself?"

Daedalion creases his brow in a frown.

Lord Deathchord Daedalion Rillaen, the Prince of Mourning asks, "Lord Nocht?"

Closing her eyes tightly, you whisper, "I don't know.. I don't know!"

Daedalion gives you the once-over, eyeing you suspiciously.

Lord Deathchord Daedalion Rillaen, the Prince of Mourning says to you, "Calm yourself."

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Child, you are too easily frightened."

Looking downtrodden, Daedalion sadly shakes his head.

Woundedly, you say to Nocht, "You're scary."

The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Nocht's lips.

You murmur, "I thought you were Lord Fain."

You wrinkle your nose and sniff.

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Some reason to expect him, little one?"

Slipping her arms around herself, you say to Nocht, "Always a reason to expect Him."

Daedalion sucks thoughtfully on a chewy piece of taffy.

The faintest trace of an icy smile playing at His lips, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "I was only listening to the story, little one."

Flatly, you ask Nocht, "And then felt it necessary to toss this in my face?"

With your mighty index finger extended, you poke a small blackthorn petal.

Daedalion snickers softly to himself.

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "It is no fault of Mine if you are too sluggish to snatch thing."

Nocht, the Silent whispers, "Things, even."

Inclining His head, Nocht, the Silent whispers, "But I will leave you to calm yourself. I would scold your loved one here, he was the one that didn't believe you."

The surrounding shadows wane, falling back in despondent melancholy as Nocht, the Silent fades seamlessly into the aether.

You sniffle softly.

A wry smile spreads across Daedalion's face.

Daedalion sways back and forth.

You whine, "You thought I was going insane."

You thwap Daedalion on the head.

Daedalion grins mischievously at you.

Lord Deathchord Daedalion Rillaen, the Prince of Mourning murmurs to you, "No more insane than I am, love."

You give Daedalion the once-over, eyeing him suspiciously.

You say to Daedalion, "Honestly, though. It was scary."

Daedalion says, "Pssshhhh..."

You say to Daedalion, "I mean.. He ruined my artwork. My ART, love."

You grab protectively at a painting of a small blackthorn petal.

Dropping his mouth open in horror, Lord Deathchord Daedalion Rillaen, the Prince of Mourning murmurs to you, "My gods, that is just evil."

why does all the fun stuff happen after I leave?

Nocht seems to specialise in terrifying people.

Yes, I was a bit nonplussed. "Booga booga, you're crazy, you're talking to yourself, you don't know who I am, booga booga." It's cute, but it's not really scary! "A" for effort and all that jazz, though.

...
Notch should create a special nightmarish room where he transposts people when he wants to scare them.

Yes, I was a bit nonplussed. "Booga booga, you're crazy, you're talking to yourself, you don't know who I am, booga booga." It's cute, but it's not really scary! "A" for effort and all that jazz, though.

How, exactly, is it supposed to be really scary? When all is said and done, the worst he could threaten you with would be killing your character, and since this is just a game, to you the player this doesn't really matter (well, it might be a pain due to EXP loss, but you'll get over it.) I suppose, if you were really attached and he made an illusion that you suicided, that might scare you a bit. But still...

From an RP standpoint, your character would be pooping themselves. And that what we have to bear in mind - the fear is subjective.

I think rejection from your peers is worse than killing you.

He could get all your friends to appear to hate you, and kick you out of all your clans, and disown you from your family etc etc.

There are fates worse than death.

Still, life goes on. You can't create real FEAR in a game like this one. Unless your victim has an unhealthy attachment to the thing.