Asham, the daemon priest says, "I have been empowered to give you the ring that you callously lost."

 

Beneath Asham's thin, finely arched eyebrows, two almond-shaped, yellow eyes set with oddly
rectangular pupils stare out with a haughty arrogance. His high cheekbones and sharp jaw give him a
feral, predatory look that is only further enhanced by two extended incisors protruding from between
thin lips when he speaks. A set of goat-like horns juts from his skull, pushing out from the ashen
skin of his brow and framed by a thick crop of straight, ebony hair that falls from his crown in a
tousled, disorderly fashion. Charcoal vestments cling to his lithe, sinewy form to flare out at his
waist, the sleeves cut away to reveal lean, muscular arms and strong hands that end in jagged talons.
 His every motion is deliberate and supercilious, as if the very air about him was displeasing.

 

You say to Asham, the daemon priest with an arid, Mhaldorian accent, "Oh sweet Gods, I thought I was
going to live with that forever."

 

You say to Asham, the daemon priest with an arid, Mhaldorian accent, "It will never leave my finger
again."

 

Asham, the daemon priest raises his eyebrow questioningly.

 

Asham, the daemon priest says, "Oh, Archfiend, you're lucky to have fingers, I dare to say."

 

Asham, the daemon priest says, "Part of your penance will be to remove your vain finger publicly."

 

 Zii nods slowly in understanding.

 

Asham, the daemon priest says, "You will also collect ten heads for the idol."

 

Asham, the daemon priest says, "If you lose it again, Archfiend, you may no longer need it."

 

You say to Asham, the daemon priest with an arid, Mhaldorian accent, "It won't happen again."

 

Asham, the daemon priest says, "Very well. Carry on with your preparations then."

 

You lower your head respectfully before Asham, the daemon priest.

 

*fast travel to Stygian*

 

A guttural voice tells you, "The Truths must guide your every action, thought, and word."

 

(Mhaldor): You say, "Weakness lies in the hearts of all men. We eliminate these weaknesses and
desires to become closer to Him. But sometimes, we falter and stumble, right onto our faces. So we
must atone and punish."

 

(Mhaldor): You say, "I will be punishing myself for weaknesses displayed. Those who wish to observe,
I am at Stygian Crossroads."

 

Her toga trailing behind her, Sylcine enters quietly from the northwest.

 

The corners of Sylcine, Maiden of Regret's mouth turn up as she grins mischievously.

 

You say in Mhaldorian with an arid, Mhaldorian accent, "Vanity. I was given something precious, told
to keep it safe and close. Instead, in my desire for attention and acknowledgement in my accolades,
I carelessly gave it to another.."

 

Zii raises his right hand for all to see, a charred circle of flesh on his ring finger.

 

You say in Mhaldorian with an arid, Mhaldorian accent, "Now, as I gave my ring away, I shall do so
with the very finger it rested upon."

 

 Zii walks over to the bench, placing his hand on the seat.

 

A gleaming scimitar rings out brightly as you rapidly draw it from a sleek bloodsteel scabbard hung
from a spiked chain belt.

 

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret looks on, clearly excited.

 

Zii takes a few, deep breaths, mentally preparing himself for the task at hand.

 

 Zii takes on final breath, before quickly raising his scimitar up and slamming it down upon his ring

finger with exact precision.

 

You exclaim with an arid, Mhaldorian accent, "AAAGGH, damn it!"

 

With a sibilant 'shhhiiiinnngggt!', you smoothly sheathe a gleaming scimitar.

 

Sherazad wipes some of the blood off her face.

 

Malefic Izarin whispers in Mhaldorian, "Suffering, so mote it be."

 

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret wets her lips slightly with her tongue upon seeing the blood.

 

Zii picks the bloodied finger up off the bench with his shaking hand, clenching his
wounded hand to his stomach.

 

You say with an arid, Mhaldorian accent, "A lesson in Suffering. In a city where
appendages are a privilege, not a right, one should be careful of their deeds."

 

You say with an arid, Mhaldorian accent, "That is all."

 

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "What are you going to do with the finger, Archfiend?"

 

You say to Sylcine, Maiden of Regret with an arid, Mhaldorian accent, "The finger is
part of a transaction."

 

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "Personally, I'd wear it around my neck."

 

You say to Sylcine, Maiden of Regret with an arid, Mhaldorian accent, "I'm sure Asham
would not mind."

 

 Zii pulls himself off the bench, offering the bloodied finger to Sylcine.

 

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret claps her hands together merrily.

 

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret says, "Thanks, Archfiend."

 

You lower your head respectfully before Sylcine, Maiden of Regret.

 

Sylcine, Maiden of Regret takes the bloody finger with zeal.