Early childhood
Brayden Vatticus was born in Rozenport to Thema Antea, on the 20th of Abadius, 4696. He was born on the night of the new moon, coinciding with the Kuthonian holiday of Eternal Kiss, which Brayden later saw as a portent. He was Gulliver Vatticus’ son, or at least that was the story.
Nobody was happy in their home. Mummy hated Ray, and Mummy hated Daddy, and Daddy hated Mummy, and Reynard hated Daddy, and Daddy hated Reynard, and Mummy had needs, and those needs were all that mattered in the hate-filled house where Brayden—eventually Ray—grew up.
Ray was a sensitive soul. He needed so much love. Though it wasn’t until his sister was born that he finally found it.
And he was born marked. Twisted in body, but with a soul like a blazing beacon, crying out to the divine.
Praying was not his habit by nature or nurture, but when he would whisper a little, silly, basically secular prayer—to, say, Desna for a spot of luck, or Cayden Cailean for a bit of bravery—more often than not, he found that something would happen. Or seem to.
Brayden’s early childhood mostly consisted of trying to stay out of everyone’s way, and to avoid getting screamed at by his mother. His father spent time with him, but most of that time was spent complaining about his mother.
Everything changed, though, or at least it felt like it changed, once Daria was born.
First of all, Mummy calmed down a bit. And, finally, Ray had someone who loved him completely. And Ray made it his life’s mission to protect his sister from the horrors of Iris Hill.
Once Daria could walk, they used her little “trick” to slip her out into town with him. Bampf! she would go, and nobody could see her.
The feeling of holding your best (and only) friend’s hand in yours, while nobody in the world but you knew they were there… it was intoxicating.
They explored every corner of Thrushmoor together, always careful to turn back at the wall on the east side, the line beyond which They Were Not Supposed to Pass.
Loss and Consequence
And then it happened. In his ninth year. Beneath the eaves of the Wailing House.
Young Ray wrapped the chain of his necklace tight around his sister’s neck, and he strangled her. It took a disturbingly long time. She fought back. She fought back hard. But in the end, she fell.
Ray didn’t know what he was doing, of course. The “fun juice” his father had given him had kicked in by that point, and whatever it was that he saw—whatever it was that his father made him see—he was convinced it was trying to kill him. So he fought.
And something terrible happened. The chain closed tight.
A Loss.
When it was over, he ran. He barely understood what he had done, but he believed it was all his fault. So he ran. He ran for the woods at the edge of town, and as he stumbled past the little wall on the east side, he ran into the Stranger.
And nothing was ever the same again.
The Choice
The years between that first murder and the next, those years of Change and Transition, they were rough.
Ray was born when the situation in Thrushmoor was up and running, so there was less physical torment for him than for some of the others, because by that time, Weiralai’s greatest pleasure was derived from psychological torture and corruption.
Weiralai pushed Ray’s buttons to the point that the poor kid believed he found a savior in Zon-Kuthon. Just as she’d poisoned Riptusk’s eternal soul by getting him to bind himself to Nurgal before then dropping him in a situation where he’d fall into worship of the King in Yellow, she not only helped Ray “stumble” into a relationship with Zon-Kuthon before attempting a similar corruption, but she even taught him to profane Shelyn—Zon-Kuthon’s own sister—by seeding in Ray an idea: he wrote prayers to the Eternal Rose, and then he would destroy them in the act of using them as components for casting spells dedicated to the Prince of Pain.
At age 15, Ray left “for university” in Cheliax. Eventually, he was torturing people as a teenaged priest of an insane god of sado-masochism. Just as Weiralai had planned.
But then something happened that was his Choice. It was a Choice he likely would never have made if his life had not been shaped by so much trauma. But still, it was a Choice that he made. And he made it alone:
Bradyen Vatticus murdered a Joyful Thing, in exchange for the strength of Will he sought.
And a road he never would have otherwise stumbled down on his own became his Path.
Not that this Choice was an immediate flipping of a switch. But it marked what he would later identify as a Turning Point. Perhaps a Point of No Return? And it would come to haunt him, before the end.
He returned to Thrushmoor with such a simple Plan. Step One: Kill his mom. (Maybe both his parents? TBD.) Step Two: Kill Himself. But somehow…
…that just didn’t happen.
He was seeded with Xhamen-Dor by his mother and just kind of fell into the routines of the group.
And he was always so tired.
Nobody actually knew where it was that he slept during the years that followed. Because the Iris Hill staff never once found his bunk bed in the guest house needing to be made.
The Oasis
And then it came to pass that on the 6th of Sarenith, 4715, the group entered the Dreamlands for the first time.
Rony, Riptusk, Ray, and Vatticus knew almost nothing about what they were heading into. They knew they were going somewhere, that there would be a trek involved. They knew they needed to keep Lowls alive. They knew they were seeking someone called the Mad Poet. But that’s about it.
Lowls and Thema kept from them all knowledge of the Dreamlands, what it was, that that was even where they were going. They explained that they’d be going Somewhere Else, and that their only way back would be a command word which only Lowls could speak.
So they didn’t understand that they were in a dream. But they sure found out.
They met the Mad Poet. It didn’t go well. And they all died.
When they woke, it was almost a month later.
The Quests
Upon awakening, they were all mad. None of them truly understood how lucky they were that Melisenn didn’t kill them when they were helpless. When they eventually recovered, Lowls learned about the need to bring Gifts to the Mad Poet, and the hunt for suitable Gifts began.
Everyone was filled in on the basics of Dream Travel. To a point. Just what they needed to know.
Lowls, in his paranoia, made sure that the others were drugged every time they went. He wasn’t comfortable with the idea of his being asleep while the rest might wake up first. Mun sent drugs that would keep their minds active and alert, but their bodies unconscious long enough that no matter what happened, they would always wake last.
Lowls went to the Dreamlands night after night, sometimes with his crew, sometimes with hired mercenaries, sometimes with a mix. They did it in the guest rooms upstairs at Iris Hill: he and Thema had the beds, some of the others would get pallets to collapse on. Ray and any mercenaries got the floor.
Over and over they went. In the Dream, Lowls learned about the Mad Poet and passed the information on to Thema. Thema researched gifts. In the waking world, Rony and Riptusk secured books about ritual magic and brought them to Thema. Thema learned that you could use passphrases to bring you to a specific spot in the Dreamlands, but she had to create the passphrases—a process that took time. Months, in fact, for the first one she made.
They went after the Signet Ring first, on the night of the 3rd of Calistril, 4718.
They arrived in Brellin’s ballroom and arranged a meeting with the viscount, which Lowls took alone, while the others waited. For hours. And hours.
Ray, suddenly having many hours of quiet time for the first time in a long time, looked around and wondered what the hell he was doing, how he’d gotten there, and why he was just sitting in some room with his mother, not killing her.
How had he gotten there?
They secured the ring and woke.
In the waking world, it took a few weeks for Thema to finish the passphrase for direct travel to the Enchanted Wood. As she toiled away, Ray found himself feeling unusually angry and fuzzy-headed. He couldn’t get his brain working right. So he started beating the shit out of people in The Stain.
They went after the Pard Tail on the 21st of Calistril.
When they arrived, Thema thought they could negotiate with the Zoogs. Lowls agreed with that plan, but Ray was feeling bitter and pissed, and argued with everyone (the Zoogs dubbed him “Angry Kitten”). He quickly ran out of patience and strong-armed the creatures into taking them to the Pards.
The fight was brutal. Within moments, Vatticus, Lowls and Thema woke themselves up, just to ensure their survival. Over a dozen Zoogs died. Eventually, they finished the fight, with Riptusk claiming the killing blow on both Pards.
They went after the Skull of Ghoul Royalty the very next night. Thema wasn’t sure she had her next passphrase sufficiently honed, but Riptusk egged Lowls on.
They arrived outside of Igguzqaiz on a cliff overlooking the Leng Ghoul necropolis metropolis. There was a civil war brewing between two halves of the mighty civilization, and a group of insurgent arcanists were summoning outsiders to help them in their battle.
As the party materialized there, they all got glimpses into alternate lives and the experience was intense. Ray couldn’t let go of his vision of living as a village healer in a small town, working in partnership with his very-much-living sister.
Lowls called an abort and everyone woke themselves up.
Except for Rony, apparently. He stayed. And he secured the ruby-encrusted skull.
In the waking world, Thema begged for more time before they went after the Idol. She knew she could land the party somewhere in Sarnath, but she didn’t know yet if she could actually get them exactly where the idol could be found. But nobody was listening to Thema.
They went after the Green Stone Idol of the Water Lizard the very next night.
They arrived in the palace of King John of the Bone Crown, on the 10th anniversary of the razing of Ib. The mood of the place was muted. First, because of the storm brewing out over the lake. Second, the green stone idol (stolen by Lord Dunsany and his conquering army when they destroyed the city of Ib) had vanished the previous night. It had been held in the temple of Tamash the Illusion, but the high priest had been found dead that very morning. Before his demise, he’d scrawled a single word onto the empty altar: DOOM.
The idol wasn’t in Sarnath anymore.
The next logical place to check would be Ib, but they hadn’t really thought of this quest in trekking terms, and so they wondered if they weren’t better off waking up, having Thema see if she could learn more, and then popping back in. Not having processed yet what happens when you leave the Dreamlands and return to the same location, they woke.
In the waking world, while Thema dove into research, Ray declined further and further. Finally, after many weeks, when Thema couldn’t find any writings on what happened to the idol, she said they should just return and think of this quest as a longer-term, exploratory hunt.
They returned to the Dreamlands on the night of the 8th of Gozran.
They arrived in the reign of King Edward the Learned, on the 37th anniversary of the razing of Ib. The city was celebrating. The anniversary of the slaughter had become a local holiday. They were partying—and the waters of the lake were rising. The group trekked around the lake over the course of four days and found the ruins of Ib. They walked the empty streets until they found a small stone altar on the lakeshore, upon which sat a glowing green idol. When they approached, Ib Shades rose and killed the whole party before they could wake. All except for Lowls, who got himself out in time.
In the waking world, everyone but Lowls “woke” in a catatonic state. It took a month, due to the general lack of healing and counseling he had access to, but he eventually got the group on their feet again.
They went back on the 3rd of Desnus. They arrived during the reign of King Howard the Mad, on the 75th anniversary of the razing of Ib. Nobody died this time, but they had to prematurely wake themselves.
And then this just went on, and on, and on, and on.
They’d go. It would be later. The waters of the lake were higher. The storm was closer. They’d trek around the lake. They’d enter Ib. And the Ib Shades would be too numerous to overcome.
They went nearly every night. Sometimes they’d pause briefly, but never long enough to truly recover.
Ray grew both duller and angrier, and during this stretch of months, he had many stints in jail.
When the party went to Sarnath on the night of the 26th of Sarenith, they finally cleared the Ib Shades, but as Lowls stepped forward to grab the idol, Bokrug rose from the lake and the sight drove them mad.
They all woke blind. Their eyes, according to Melisenn, seemed to be functional, but none of them were receiving visual input. It took time to heal and cure this psychosomatic damage.
On and on this went. Over and over. Sometimes they’d make through the Shades, and sometimes they wouldn’t. Sometimes they’d avoid seeing Bokrug. But sometimes they wouldn’t.
Trauma. Madness. And mind-numbing repetition.
At some point along the way, Ray noticed that he’d manifested a relic from his past in the hand of his dream avatar: his old scalpel. The one he’d used to mutilate his body after he’d killed his sister.
Then he remembered that he HAD killed his sister.
It was something he’d pushed so, so deep that he’d nearly forgotten it.
His disgust at himself, and his cowardice, and his ruin of a life clobbered him and dropped the scalpel on the floor in Sarnath. He left that piece of himself behind.
He didn’t want to be himself anymore. He didn’t want to know himself. He didn’t understand himself. He couldn’t be himself.
In the end, they finally got the idol. It was Ray who touched it. And the moment he did, he felt a certainty fall upon him: he was DOOMED.
Back in the Waking World, Ray cast Commune and he got confirmation that he was, indeed, doomed. But it seemed it wasn’t Bokrug that would get him. Someone else was coming for him.
Someone close to him.
And the others would simply watch as he died.
So, Ray talked to Melisenn on the 3rd of Lamashan. And he asked her to have Risi kill the others.
Everything was falling apart, but there were still three more gifts to get.
On the 11th of Lamashan, they went to Dylath-Leen. They orchestrated an attack on Quaveandra and left with the Heartstone.
Ray had long thought of himself as someone who controlled the narrative of his life. What he’d done had haunted him for so long—he carved her name all over his body in the years following that horrible morning—but he went and took control. He put the past behind him.
But on the afternoon of the 12th of Lamashan, Ray woke up in the Wailing House, curled in Daria’s dead arms.
And for no reason other than simple cruelty, the monster he’d made her decided not to steal his memories that day. For once. And she whispered the truth to him: that every single day since his return from Cheliax, he had slept in the arms of the sister he’d murdered, as she whispered torments into his ear.
Before the dream voyages, he’d stayed there by night. After the rituals started, he’d slink there in the early hours of the morning and rest with her until it was time for her to start hunting.
And Ray finally saw the truth of himself, and his life, and he understood that he’d never be free of the pain of what he’d done.
And something broke within him.
The group went after the Captain’s Tricorne that same night, but Ray didn’t even bother to show up.
On the 13th of Lamashan, they went to Arventon for the Red Webbed Foot.
When they arrived, there was bitter disagreement about how to put together an expedition to the Black Lake. The fighting got so heated that Lowls just pulled the plug and decided six gifts were enough. So everyone poofed out.
After leaving Arventon, Ray dreamt of pulling eternally on a chain. A chain that was looped around his own throat.
So when Thema came to them all on the 14th day of Lamashan, the day they would return to the Mad Poet’s oasis, he listened to her. He listened when she spoke of freedom. Of an end to the struggle. An end to Memory. And the Self. An escape, not only from the bleak pointlessness of life, but from all the horrors awaiting them after death.
And rather than killing Lowls, they all chose to march to their own Oblivion with full knowledge of what was about to happen.
Lowls had thought he’d outsmarted them, but in the end they outsmarted him and welcomed with open arms the Sacrifice he intended to make of them. He would steal nothing from them. They would make a Choice. And they would finally be free of the lives Weiralai had cursed them with.
On the night of 14th of Lamashan, they entered the Dreamlands and traveled to the Mad Poet’s Oasis a second time. They presented their Gifts.
And Lowls made his Sacrifice.
He drowned them all in the pool.
The Sacrifice
But when the Moment came—the moment he felt everything he was, all he knew, all he’d learned, and all he’d lost—from the depths of his soul, clinging to the faint belief that he didn’t deserve this, that this wasn’t his fault, Ray trembled in fear. He’d inflicted so much terror on so many people during his brief life, but despite all the pain he’d suffered, he’d never truly allowed fear to enter his heart. Until the water entered his lungs.
He knew that calling out to Zon-Kuthon would not help him. The Prince of Pain would simply find another useful tool with which to shape the flesh of the world in His image.
There would be no miracle for Father Ray.
Yet still he prayed.
He thought of his lost sister, of her tenderness and mercy, and he prayed for his life, wishing he could live and be someone else. If only to honor her memory.
And another sister heard his cries.
The Goddess Shelyn heard this profound wish for atonement. And She answered it. She gave his soul the strength of will to: SURVIVE THIS.
She wrapped her care around his heart and drove her brother out. Zon-Kuthon did not leave easily, though, and he cursed his former champion as he left.
He may have life, but it will be a short one, one spent dying.
And his mind, entangled with a Great Old One, only just starting to realize he had so much help he could give, with Shelyn in mind, he prayed to SURVIVE.
As he slipped into oblivion.
First Reference: Chapter 150 (Part 3)
Other Notable References: —