Nok Malekin

Medium-size Female Human (Mallorean Line of the Race of Angaraks)

Sorcerer1 Fighter4

Hit Dice:	(1d4)+(4d10)+15
Hit Points:	40
Initiative:	+3
Speed:	Walk 30'
AC:	20 (dodge, expertise and mobility)
Alignment:	Neutral Good
Face/Reach:	/5

Attacks

Damage

Languages

Common, Angarak, Old Angarak, Literacy, Dalish, Karandese, Melcene.

Saves

Abilities

Her toad gives her a +2 bonus on con.

SKILLS

FEATS

Special Qualities

Weight allowance

Possessions

Spells

FAMILIAR Wart

Diminutive-size Male Toad

Magical Beast1

Hit Dice:	(1d10)
Hit Points:	20
Initiative:	+1
Speed:	Walk 5'
AC:	16

Face/Reach: /0 <

Saves:

Special Qualities:

Empathic Link, Improved Evasion (Ex), Share Spells

The prophecy

You moved around the small ancient, ruined hovel as night silently creeps upon the sky. The musty smell of old blankets and clothes lingers upon the air and so were the moldering plants and herbs that litter the shelf. There were some piles of vials and bottles, though the fluids inside were murky and green as well with a tinge of black-grayish hues. A strange thought entered your mind as you snooped around the house. The hovel greatly reminds you of the dwelling of Tulamew the witch, though with different arrangements of the furniture, but the essence and the aura of the place seems to tingle your neck, the same sensation when you’re around Tulamew and her crafting. The huge cauldron that hung upon the lighted hearth was steaming now and the smell of stew overrides the decaying odor of the place. You located earlier a set of wooden bowls, plates and kitchenware that were neatly stacked under the sink. Though, cobwebs and thick dust covered it, you knew it were still serviceable.

“Mother wants stew?” You heard a squeaky voice behind you and you saw a group of fenlings crowding by the door, looking at you innocently and trustingly with their huge-black orb eyes. The old-wrinkly fenling detached itself from the pack and slowly skittered towards you. “Poppy cooked some stew for mother, since we know that you were coming.” And it sniffed towards the direction of the large-clay cauldron.

But then suddenly, the ancient fenling paused and looked at you strangely, with its huge eyes widening, as if something had happened to it. You suddenly noticed that the air around you was silently and all of the fenlings had this wide strange vacant look on their eyes.

And an astonishing event follows, the old otter like fenling opened its mouth and from within its maw came a voice, sort of grand and thunderous, like a rolling cadence.

“It shall come to pass, from unto ages into ages, a heartbroken child shall emerge, and she will take the words from the prophets.”

And then from the pack of fenlings, another voice answered, the same thunderous, rolling voice.

“And the mother shall engrave it so, for the child, her child out of time shall one day grow and bear the prophecy upon the child’s shoulder.”

From outside, the same booming voice replied.

“For it is hath been sayeth, so it hath been engraved. And only the light of the prophecy shall shed the true words.”

As if nothing had happened, the fenlings again looked at you with their same innocent eyes.

“Mother has given us the prophecy.” The group of fenlings whispered to you with their chittering voice. “And mother shall one day come and take it away from us. And she has come.” And they all yipped and chittered amongst themselves.

The writings

The group of fenlings must have gotten tired of gawking at you and you found youself alone inside the ruins with but a candle as a your only lighting. You decided to go on with your snooping and you found a big lantern hidden under the worn out cot. The hut blazed with brightness as you lighted the ancient lantern. It was still full with oil. Come to think of it, the whole hut seems neatly arranged as if someone who had lived there must have known that she'll be having a visitor after she dies.

The hut looked different under the bright ruddy light of the lantern, giving you a different perspective of the house. It seems alive or something.

You again continued your search on the hut and you first moved to the shelves groaning with ancient, dusty parchments and book.

Upon close scrutiny, the parchments contains some journal of an old woman written in a spidery, elegant handwriting, journals of what she'd seen done and spells she utilized. You knew some of the things she was saying since you had some training from Tulamew, but some of thiose things written were beuond your comprehension. After some time, you rested your eyes and leaned back on a rickety chair, but the lantern must have played some tricks on you when you noticed a very thick black book on the shelf glowed for an instant.

Curiosity gnawed upon you and you took the book down, blowing uon the dust that covers it as you started leafing to it.

"My dear daughter," It began with the same spidery-elegant handwriting. "I am calling you such, even if we're not related. But the same blood runs through our veins... Of a witch. Yes, I am a witch myself, I am Vordai and people calls me, The Witch of the Fens, sometimes with disdain, fear or hatred. But, people sometimes fear what they cannot comprehend. This journal is like my raft, a boat that runs through the river of time that will lead to you. I have known you for ages, you have been a part of my heart and I am at lost on what to say to you to ease your heartbrokeness or anger against those people who had maltreated you. But know these, forgiveness shall set you free, just as I had forgiven those who had wronged me, and I know that you shall. You see, I was abused and harmed by those people I tried to help and they paid me by trying to burn me at the stake. But I freed myslef and laid a curse upon the people. I ran here because the wood here is too damp to burn and I needed isolation badly, and surround myself with my children, the fenlings. At first, they do not have the ability to speak, but I had certain talent and I let myself be understood by them as I began to understood them. but for me, that was not enough. My children needed to protect themself when I am gone and so that was when Belgarath, the greatest sorcerer came. He gave my children the ability to speak and I am in great debt to him. Now, after Belgarathgave them speech. My children started to speak strange things all over and over again. And I found out that they were uttering a new set of prophecy that will set on YOUR time. YOU are tapped by that prophecy itself with certain other chosen person. I have, with great patience, written every word they said, but everytime I wrote it on this journal, it disappeared, turning itself invisible after a day. The key is in Riva, my daughter, should you choose to burden yourself with this, set your journey to that place and only the orb shall show the words of the prophecy. My daughter, only you can save the world from great doom. Be well, and set free yourself. Take care of my children for they are dear to me. Vordai, your mother.