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[Tay Thormear]

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"Feel the power...seek the power...feel us!"

Beowulf awoke from a deep sleep, sweat dripping from his forehead. He'd been hearing voices for about a week now. Ever since he started using the blackrock.

He hurried from his bedroom to the basement of his newly structure house. His "Blackrock Lab" as he liked to call it, was covered in black sut. Tiny pieces of blackrock were scattered and a large chunk seemed to stand out at him.

All through the night he continued to try different experiments on the blackrock. He wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for. More power? More answers? More wisdom?

"We'll give it to you all! Together we'll be the strongest and the wisest in all of Sosaria!"

Beo's hands grasped his head tightly. The voices grew louder. He seemed to feel hatred for everything that he felt was dear to him. The army and citizens of Moonglow, the town of Umbra, those who he called "Friends."

"This has to be a trick!" He screamed out loudly.

His lips began to move by themselves, he was loosing control of his vocal cords. He could feel his emotions changing, all that he had fought against had seemed to make so much more sense.

"Vas Kal An Mani In Corp Hur Tym!" He bellowed out before he could stop himself. Beowulf grabbed his stomach and felt his insides shake, before he knew what was happening he blew backwards. Potion bottles smashed, blackrock turned to rubble, his candle twisted and fell spilling hot wax across the floor. Boxes smashed down upon his body.

Beowulf knew he was still alive, death didn't hurt this much. His hand wiggled out from the crushed boxes. He began to franticly toss away the broken wood. He dragged himself to his washing barrel and began to clean his cuts.

After he was all cleaned, Beo strutted across his basement...couldn't be bothered with the mess. Thinking of Moonglow seemed to make him cringe. Thinking of all the trouble they had helped Umbra cause seemed to anger him. Deep down he didn't quite understand his change of heart.

"Aid Moonglows enemies!" A voice spoke to him.

Beowulf nodded once and head off....to Sanctus.

[Lord Fong]

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Earlier in the Week Beowulf came knocking on Fongs door in the late evening. "Mayor, I need you to tell me everything you know about Blackrock." Fong glanced about seeing if anyone was in hearing distance. Motioning him inside he quickly closed and locked the door. Walking him upstairs to his study fong began to unfold some of the secerets of the blackrock to Beowulf, closely watching his reaction Fong forgot to mention the voices and the risk associated with tampering with the rock. Without suffecent knoweledge of how to properly contain the rock Beowulf would become unstable at best. Fong knew the risks of using one of his most trusted advisors as a guinne pig, yet he continued enduldging beowulf's thirst for the knoweldge. Fong completely lost himself as he explained the inner most workings of the rock, much time past and the moon hung low in the sky, the sun would be up soon. Beowulf left the Manor with a much heavier pack. As he walked away Fong seemingly awoke not knowing what had happened or why he had forgotten so much of the evening he turned and headed to his room for some much needed sleep.

Over the next week Fong watched as Beowulfs eyes became sunken and bloodshot. The rock was taking its hold on him, soon he..just as spawn, would be completely addicted to the Facade of power the rock provided its users. It was time for the next step. The question that had been burning in his mind since the begining.
Can a mass population become unwittingly addicted to the blackrocks grasps?
Fong played with the idea in his head for sometime, now seeing how quickly of a grasp it had taken on beowulf he could only imagine how an entire unsuspecting population would handle the infection.
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It does not require a majority to prevail, but rather an irate, tireless minority keen to set brush fires in people's minds. - Samuel Adams