2026-03-26 10:14 - X PST
Jackal ventured to their PO box to find a report on Mark Sterner, as they’d requested from Dr. Clark1. However, they were ambushed and sent into torpor.
Jackal is struck in the chest with a powerful strike, and their body gives out. Torpor takes them…
They don’t know how much time has passed, but they DO reawaken. They’re tied to a large stone pillar, in an underground room they don’t recognize, but bares similar consistency to the tunnels they found Razdan in. Taking one step back from them, hand alight with magic, is the individual who knocked them to torpor. With their hood down, Jackal sees that they have a shaved head tattoo’d with perhaps arcane marks, and relatively intact features across their dark skin.
Another man, missing a hand, but starting to regenerate it, rests in the center of the chamber. He looks angry, but is keeping to himself.
Their captors assured them they weren’t going to kill them. Then, they pressed a stone covered in Banu Haqim symbols to [Jackal’s chest and said the Arabic word for victory.
They feel a flare of magical power against their chest. But it feels weak. As if the item has been used before.
They loosened their bindings secretly, waiting for the perfect time to make their escape.
*They think they see it. They’re about to slip their bonds. And then.
A woman steps out of nowhere. She looks middle eastern, with very short black hair, dozens of articles of golden jewelry, and a stave in one hand. The stabbing feeling grows brighter. Stronger. Heavier. Recognition, somewhere in their soul, especially when they see this sigil around her neck.* “So it is done.” She says.
The grey haired one nods. “Indeed. They are yours. Our contract is fulfilled.”
“Who are you?” They’re placed back on the backfoot. They likely wouldn’t be able to make another move, considering that both the man and their captor now had hands on their weapon. They were also heavily wounded and that restricted their movements.
“You don’t remember me? I’m hurt.” She sighs, loudly.
“You are not alone in the number of people I have forgotten. When you look upon me, who do you see?”
“I see a treasonous cur, a tragedy in motion, and an upset to Unity.”
The Jackal stays silence. The first two statements are met with defiance, though the last provokes shame. “You know of the Unity…”