Another side note: 

As Lord Asta Bjørndottir departs, she casts a glare in Pouf's direction, Pouf can swear she sees a flash of red and her fight or flight instinct kicks in as Lord Asta Bjørndottir says, "Mutt."

Pouf fans herself with faux offense, “I’ll have you know that my mother was a princezz.”

“The last thing I remember is a moment of joy...riding a large, winged creature through the skies...and someone riding with me, behind me, arms wrapped around me, holding me secure.” Xelazhia has a far-off look as she recounts the memory. 

Quote from Awaypturwpn >>

“The last thing I remember is a moment of joy...riding a large, winged creature through the skies...and someone riding with me, behind me, arms wrapped around me, holding me secure.” Xelazhia has a far-off look as she recounts the memory. 

 Pouf sticks her head out the bars, “Oh that sounds nice. Ze last thing I remember is stealing...” Pouf counts her tiny fingers, “Eeeeh... 26 million? Ja, that’s sounds right. About 26 million. It was a fun week!”

Vuist, for the first time, actually breaks his meditative position. He peers over at Pouf and says, "Twenty-six million what?" 

Quote from jr_el_leon >>

Vuist, for the first time, actually breaks his meditative position. He peers over at Pouf and says, "Twenty-six million what?" 

 “Gold, of course! Though, it was in platinum if I remember... Like I said, a fun week!”

Quote from LaRue >>

 

You have questions, Ex-Ravens. I am curious about this presumed memory loss you suffer from. Take some time... You there, please tell me what you last remember...

 

“The last thing I remember...” Amanita repeats. “What is the last thing I remember..?” She closes her eyes and flashes of flame project on her lids. “A forest, burning...my forest...my old home.” She opens her eyes but no longer sees what is around her, lost in recollection.

“Maybe not the last thing…” she pauses. “Memory is such a tricky thing: was it yesterday or hundreds of years ago?...This isn’t the first time I have lost time, you see.” She takes a breath and closes her eyes again. “Maybe not the last thing, but the most intense…The forest burning. I...I...it was my fault. The trees trusted me, the plants were helping me. I was searching for someone. I had been sent to find them...The forest guided me, help me trap them in vines and roots. I was so close, I thought I could just take a look.”

Her eyes open and she shakes her head. Her hair and twigs rustle stirring up a scent of dry leaves. “I was excited to be back on Masaaraq, to recall a happiness I once had, but anxious as well. So much time had passed and..and...I was much changed.

“I only went for a moment, watching from the cover of the tree line. I was planning to go back when I had more time...to find out what happened to my family, to Melia...after delivering my quarry, but…” Another pause, a dewy tear falls from her eye. “It, too, was much changed, yet, the same. But, now, just ashes” Her expression turns grim. “By the time I returned to the grove of vines, flames were already spreading across the forest. I am not sure how I got out of there or who started the fire or why except that it happened because I was there, because I left the grove while the vines held my prisoner...If we would have just left right away...maybe...So much lost…”

After a moment, Amanita looks around like she is just realizing where she is again. She shakes with anger and grief and glares at the other prisoners, then up at the crow. She is not sure if that is where the voice is coming from, but senses it is  important somehow...raven, crow, corvidae. She wills herself to go invisible, hoping it works this time. To disappear for this moment would be most welcome.

I see. Thy past is laden with anguish, Amanita. As for all of you, it would seem your memories end at different times and places. Curious, is it not? 

Seeing Amanita look at the crow, all of you follow suit. This crow has locked eyes with Amanita and you know this is precisely the creature that has been speaking to you. Those of you who have not studied the arcane arts or druidic rites find this disturbing. You may have heard stories about famous dead wizards with talking pets, but those of you without the experience of those specific magicks mentioned find the situation puzzling. 

I believe I have gleaned something from your words. It is not just your bodies that are riddled with enchantments and fail-safes. Your minds, too, have been meddled with just as I am sure you have come to suspect. 

The crow spreads its wings out wide and suddenly the room darkens as the torches along the outer walls all extinguish. The windows themselves have ceased to provide light, but somehow you can still see this crow and it's white, shimmering outline.

Grant me a moment to prepare. I will present you with a test memory. Yes, a test to see how we may restore these lost moments in time.

Pouf looks around and sits, clapping her paws, “Oh, this will be fun. Feels a lot like when I go ‘Pouf.’”

Xelazhia looks around in the darkness, saying nothing but waiting expectantly. 

The room strobes between black and blue lights slowly, but soon quickens it's pace. You hear the crow chuckle.

I hope you haven't eaten recently.

Everything pauses as the colors all around you inverse. In the corner of your eyes you can see everyone else, similarly paused. The crow really should have given you a warning since you feel like you are going to lose your entire stomach at this point. Finally, you are allowed to blink... 

A n d . . .

Welcome to a flashback sequence! We will have these time to time and you will be warned they are about to happen... During these segments, just write in the state of mind your character would have been in at the time. We are putting together a story of what happened in the past during these parts.

The 'present you' may interject when you fail a roll! Three times during a flashback, if you fail a roll, you can interject with That's not how I remember it... or some variant of that phrase. This will let you change the outcome of the roll to whatever you'd like. Depending, I will also likely let you change an NPC's roll with this tactic as well. If its possible, I would appreciate it being colored in your text speak, bolded, and italicized... mostly for style. Some of these flashbacks will effect what is happening in the present and some of them are just to flesh out the story.

Either way, your level will remain consistent throughout no matter what time you are in, weird huh? Anyway, I hope that all makes sense. Please feel free to ask questions in case I am being obtuse!!! (Which is highly likely)

There are six of you in this circular prison. The kobold, elf, fae-touched human, changeling (or so you assume), kithkin, and your garden variety human. Each of you have your own slice of the pie, kept separate by the bars between you though you can easily reach one another if you'd like. You remember that lady stepping on your head in the ruins of some big city, but after that you were bagged, dragged, and then processed, quite thoroughly, through some sort of criminal system. You could assume to be in Ostheim, the only nation in the world to have such a rigorous system as what you just gone through. The chill in the air provided evidence to support that line of thinking and for a moment you wish that they had provided you with some extra sheets (or perhaps let you room with the fuzzy kobold). They are also the only ones who could seal away your powers... probably.

Eventually, you are shuffled from that prison out the hall. It would appear you are, indeed, in a tower as you descend, but there are no sounds of other inmates. Instead, the sound of your footsteps keep you alert as you reach some sort of check point. Escorted by several guards, it feels like a tight fit in these halls. After some transitions from the tower to what seems like a prim and proper building accessed only through dank tunnels, you find yourselves standing before a young woman. Her dark hair is braided and lays across a collar bone, the only skin made bare by her attire. She wears a blue gown with white lace underneath a breastplate and pauldrons. The way she is dressed seems more ceremonial than as proper battle attire.

"Good evening," her voice is as small and timid as the look on her face. Though she stands at an incredible 6'5", some of you catch on that she seems uncomfortable. She gestures to some seats in front of her massive desk, which only helps to make her seem smaller. "Please be seated..."

A better look around the room reveals that this is the office of someone who is decorated in some way. The room features paintings of mighty men and women who all don fancy armor and helms. You cannot see the faces of those in these paintings, but all of their armor is significantly different as different motifs or third accent colors appear on their person. The room is incredibly large and it would seem there are enough chairs for all six of you to find a seat.

Vuist arches an eyebrow, then takes a seat without saying a word. He crosses his legs taking a meditative posture on the chair. 

Pouf takes a seat, “Oh how nice, ve have pie.” She slides her plate closer.

"P-pie?" The lady blinks and blushes. She seems taken aback. "Um, there... There isn't any pie..."

Quote from LaRue >>

"P-pie?" The lady blinks and blushes. She seems taken aback. "Um, there... There isn't any pie..."

 OOC: Yeah, May have read, “Each of you have your own slice of the pie, kept separate by the bars between you though you can easily reach one another if you'd like,” and jumped the gun.

The memory freezes with a record scratch, and Present Pouf remembers, “Oh vait, that vas a different prison. It also vasn’t my pie... yet. Anyvay, continue!” The memory starts playing again.

Amanita blinks a couple of times before folding into a chair and looks at the woman, he expression blank. She tries to figure out why this women seems so nervous. Is it us or something else.

Insight: 20

Amanita senses that this woman is not wholly used to her authority. Somehow she looks familiar to you, but its not entirely clear how. Being from Masaaraq, it wouldn't be unheard of to hear tales or see artwork of Ostheimer and Avershiran nobles while visiting the clans who formed the city and port. Perhaps she was someone of that sort of station.

Pouf would likely be intimately familiar with various forms of law enforcement, does she seem to remind her of anyone or any position in particular?

Ostheim, some of you know, is a kritarchy. The rule of the land is by judges, and in this country's tradition, the kings and queens are all individuals who have obtained the title of Sovereign Justicar within the legal system. It's unclear if you are an outsider, but being the oldest in the immediate family of the king doesn't guarantee your heritance of the crown. Tied in with all this, you know the country has a religious bent to it as they hold the goddess Qonera in highest regard of the Sovereign Host. She holds even more importance than Arcturus, the god some would consider to be the father of all other gods.

Pouf has considered this information, along with some other things she was told, and might have an idea about this person's position.

At this point, one assumes no others move to sit. Instead, you opt to stare at the girl or even daydream. Her lips tremble at the corners as her eyebrows twist upward, "P-Please be-"

Be seated.

Without missing a beat, you sit down in the nearest, unoccupied seat. Vuist does not feel this oppression upon him, though he suspects the others are possibly being puppeted somehow. He looks around the room, but sees no signs of anyone casting any spells. He looks back to the shy woman and ponders if she might have displayed some magical power, but given her previous trembling, that seems highly unlikely.

"G-Good evening," she says, "I am Justice Agna Alvadottir. E-Ex-Ravens, you are hereby under my jurisdiction. A-Any attempts to disobey or escape will result in your, your demise. Please heed my words. You are to hunt down the other Ravens and capture them. If you cannot capture them, you will e-execute them. Is this understood?"

Pouf looks intensely through Agna, “Ravens, I remember the Ravens. They-“ Pouf gets the same far off look as she did before, “Who are the Ravens?”