Today’s snippet, titled “The Shadowblood (pt 2)”, is a piece I wrote about my PC in Mark’s new (Good) Pathfinder Campaign.
      Be forewarned, there are mature themes and naughty language below.
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      Nothing happened.
      Tentively, Rhiallis peered into the chest and gazed with the blessed eyes of Iomedae. The searing scarlet aura nearly knocked her back, but she stood fast. Reaching in, Rhiallis felt around for the source and was rewarded with the discovery of two vials of liquid.
      “What is it?” she asked, without realized she had even spoken aloud.
      Within the fragile glass tube was a roiling, viscous black substance. Jensen leaned forward, peering at the tube for a moment. As the elf opened his mouth, Rhiallis caught sight of a pointed look passing between Sosiel and Aron. He knows what it is, but he didn’t expect to see it here, she realized.
      “Shadowblood,” Jensen said at last, stroking his chin as if he had a fine, pointed beard. “Highly addictive. Derived from the actual fluid inside a shadow demon. Its essence, if you will. Quite nasty both in origin and repercussions, if I recall correctly. Which of course, I do.”
      “You swore you were done with it, Aron.” Sosiel was not able to mask the hurt in his voice as he rounded on his lover. “You promised. After everything you went through to be rid of that damnable drug – how could you?”
      “Well, he’ll be rid of it now,” Graves said, taking the vials. “I’m doing it right now. Into the flames and we’ll be done with it.”
      “No, no! Its mine!”
      Rhiallis frowned. “This may be a bit paranoid, but should we not take a moment to be certain that terrible things won’t happen if you expose to that to fire?”
      “Hah!” Jensen snorted. “I would have told you so, if that were the case. Dump it, Graves, and let us get back to sleep. There are demons to kill on the morrow and I should like to have a fresh array of spells memorized.”
      Graves gave the elf mage a look that more eloquently expressed her bemused annoyance and then cast an apologetic look at Rhiallis. She strode to the nearest campfire and upended the vials each in turn.
      The only howls of object came from Aron, and those lasted only a moment before Sosiel managed to quiet him. Though Rhiallis could not hear the particulars of their conversation, she felt their closeness drawing them together and knew that Sosiel’s love would bring Aron back from the brink. At least, I pray it is so.
      Rhiallis had never experienced addiction herself, though she had come dangerously close to drowning in various bottles of wine after… after. Still, she had endless empathy for the weakness of the human condition and decided that she would make it a point to get to know Aron better and offer her support in anyway possible. She said as much to the Lieutenant a few moments later.
      “He’s not likely to appreciate anything we have to say,” Graves said as they walked back toward their tents.
      “No,” Rhiallis sighed, nodding her agreement. “But it seems apparent that he wants to be free of the drug. Perhaps with all of us pulling for him… he will make it.”
      “Perhaps.”
      They paused outside Graves’ place to watch as the army settled back into its previous configuration. Sleeping men returned to their beds, watchers resumed patrols. It was almost as if nothing had happened – as if they had not discovered coalesced, bottled evil amongst them only moments before.
      “Seems odd, don’t you think?”
      Pushing a hand through her hair, Graves said, “What is?”
      “If he’s been back on the drug – imbibing the shadowblood – this whole time, why didn’t we sense it before? Why did it only affect him now?”
      The Lieutenant pursed her lips for a long moment, considering, then shrugged. “Something to look into, for a certain. Go back to bed, Rhiallis – your watch will be here before you know it.”
      “Aye,” Rhiallis said, and then covered her mouth as she was taken by a sudden yawn. “Wouldn’t do to be yawning in the enemy’s face on the morrow, would it?”
      Laughing, Graves shook her head. “Guess not. G’night.”
      A few moments later, finally out of her armor once more and settling into her bed roll, Rhiallis stared at the ceiling of her tent. Where did he even get shadowblood in Kenabres? Has he has it all along? Why didn’t we notice anything earlier? Any changes in him? Did Sosiel notice and never say a word? Can we truly trust either of them after this?
      The wool of her cloak was scratchy against her neck and she sighed. Gods, what I would give for a single day without intrigue or battle and a nice, clean linen pillowcase… And him back by my side. Viggo…

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Note: Image is “King Jagiello Statue Central” by (Mulligand) from SXC.hu; edited by me