**The following has been compiled from several (slightly inebriated) accounts during the Travancian Bar crawl. This, by no means, is meant to be a full account of the occurrence. However the information herein is verified as mostly accurate, if not complete :**
The crowd wandered up to an open area near the Alisandria statehouse. Papa Keefu, in a booming voice addressed the crowd,
“You want to see? I have many things to show you. You need to see what “she” up to...”
The crowd gathered ever closer but was directed to stand outside the circle inscribed on the grass with white powder. A strange ritual began, drums beat, loud noises and lights appeared from nowhere and Papa chanted and danced. He pulled several people into his circle. They drank what appeared to be blood from a skull and each underwent a mental change. Some howled, others crawled while still others writhed in pain or pleasure.
Suddenly transparent figures appeared. Looking closely it was discernible that these figures were projected images or visions of some sort. They didn’t seem to see the crowd gathered around. First came a man in a giant wooden mask. He was beating a drum and dancing to the beat. Next came another man, face painted in an intricate skull design. He too danced to the beat and seemed to be in almost an otherworldly frenzy. Next stepped out a young woman. Many gathered recognized her. She was a powerful Bokor who had crossed Travance before a few years back. She danced and swayed while power radiated from her in an almost tangible wave. Then the final figure appeared. A tall beautiful woman. Her painted face more terrifying than the others before her. Her presence and power seemed to dim the very firelight.
“Dominique,” she addressed the younger woman, “You cannot fail this time. The pact we have made with that Fross was sworn upon the MaKhet. They will punish us if we break the pact! Because you failed last time we are bound to him. You need to make sure and finish this time, Apprentice!”
The younger woman bowed her head, “My Bokor, I will not fail this time, the boy is there! We have researched the Bloodline Curse. Everything is in motion.”
The Bokor nodded her head, “And the woman? Do we still hold her? Where is she now?”
“I have moved her many places, for now she is near us. Chained like a dog’” the apprentice laughed.
“Good, we may still need her, if Fross does not honor his bargain.” The Bokor suddenly stopped and tilted her head, “They see us!”
Slowly, but in unison, each member of the group turned their heads and made eye contact with those outside the circle.
“Run!” Screamed Papa Keefu “I cannot protect you!”
**The accounts from this point are jumbled and confusing. Some claim to have interacted with the vision, others ran while others still drunkenly looked on with bewilderment.**
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Fross sat at the helm of his ship and smiled. All his pieces were falling into place nicely. The Coast Haven witches were firmly under his thumb. They should have known better than to swear oaths on the MaKhet - but greed is a button easily pushed. He had simply found what they wanted and offered them more. They failed the first time, but their failure had netted a consolation prize. The “famous” Charlotte Tempest had been captured and tortured on his whim for years. It had been a true pleasure to watch and help with her persecution. She had dared to side against him with Travance those years ago and he had certainly taught her a lesson on siding against him! Too bad the Bokor had gotten sloppy and allowed her to be rescued. He would have cherished sending her to Travance with his First Mate, Howland Fane. Howland would have continued the torture, to be sure, and made sure she witnessed her allies’ defeat.
Regardless, he refused to let that small loss tarnish his merriment.
He looked to his right where sailed the ship they had acquired last week. It was a long fight - the ship had a good number of cannons. It had taken a week of repairs to get her ready to sail again. He had already gone over and over the plan with Fane.
The two of them had “visited” Travance a few months prior to test the waters, as it were. They had a fine time and left a trail of destruction and bodies in their wake. He was confident in Fane’s ability to carry out his portion of the plan. He had hand-chosen the man for a reason. Fane’s temperament and morality nearly mirrored his own - perhaps just a bit darker. Fross enjoyed thinking about what Fane would accomplish in Travance very much - he only wished he could be there to witness it himself.
