The coming of Dawn is, and shall always be, the perfect time for prayer. For the followers of Irilisar waking up to greet their goddess at her sacred hour made it the most important time of day. Today was no exception. In the Temple’s atrium the twenty foot marble statue of a woman, Irilisar’s Icon in this city, was ringed by all of the occupant chanters. All were on their knees, hands clasped before them and eyes closed, as they reveled in the slowly growing warmth conveyed by the shafts piercing the glass-dome above. Such piety lent the space an atmosphere of grave seriousness and contemplation.

  But just as the Dawn reached its apex, the front doors to the Temple burst open. All eyes riveted immediately upon the intruder, burning with anger at having this holy time be disturbed. That fire dimmed when the Irilisarian chanters realized whom it was.

  A female drow stood in the doorway, her chest heaving from maybe running a very far distance. The pattern good-looks of a drow - with pale white hair, purple-hued skin, and angular features - graced her from top to bottom. Her clothing however consisted of a modest blue dress. Well, aside from the leggings that clung to her legs, just barely noticeable underneath the skirts of her dress. Such garments were clearly expensive, for a few of the female chanters remarked mentally that they looked mighty comfortable.

  The Drow’s eyes quickly scanned the clergy as she stalked towards the group praying. They finally riveted upon a Mother, one of the higher ranked members of the Temple.

  “Mother Ureah!” she commanded. Some of the Chanters jumped as if ready to do her bidding. But despite the power behind her words, there was a slight tremor of worry apparent in its delivery. “You need to come with me quickly!”

  “What seems to be the matter, Loria?” Mother Ureah seemed unaffected by the command but her eyes were filled with concern.

  Loria tried to speak but the words died in her mouth. Her body trembled a little and her legs quavered, as if ready to collapse at any moment. “My brother.” Her voice rose as the words were finally spat out. “I think my brothers possessed.”

  Concerned muttering and whispering broke out among the chanters. Mother Ureah quickly took stock of the situation and strode forward, beckoning for Loria to join her.

  “We will walk and talk. Lead on, Loria, but explain the situation as best as you can.”

  The duo quickly left the Temple grounds, entering the streets. Since dawn had just come, Valcern’s streets were slowly stirring as shopkeepers began to get their stores ready and common folk were fetching the days water or cooking their morning fast. Amid such emptiness the two women’s footsteps echoed loudly throughout the cobbled streets. Away from the Temple, Loria allowed the fear she had kept suppressed to show outwardly.

  “I-I-It all happened so suddenly,” Loria began. “I woke up to him muttering to himself and pacing back and forth in our kitchen. That by itself is already strange cause the luggard sleeps till the afternoon.”

  Mother Ureah nodded sagely. Kal, as a guardsmen, happened to work the night shifts. As such, it was not a common fact that Loria had an older brother for he was rarely seen.

  “But the moment I walked in, his eyes riveted upon me and gods!” She shivered. “There was something...wrong about them. As if they were seeking something to punish or unleash their anger upon. Once he saw me, he began to blubber about clothes, garments, and my leggings in particular!”

  “Your leggings? Really?” The Mother’s eyes looked downward briefly. “But they are absolutely gorgeous! Not only are they so beautiful, but are also made from that new, durable material. What’s it called?”

  “Denim,” Loria replied. “The wizards from Sothren make it in bulk you know.” She quickly shook her head. “Never mind that. Kal then went into a murderous rampage, drawing his sword and chopping away at the clothes on the clothes line! I was terrified! Once he was done butchering those, he strode into my room and began doing god knows what!” A sob was barely suppressed. “Fearing for my life, that’s when I fled the house and came straight to the Temple.”

  Mother Ureah scratched her chin. Never before had she dealt with an evil spirit so....strange. But the irritability and clearly irrational actions stank of evil most foul. She clenched her fists. Loria was right to come to her and the Temple. Only the finest Irisilar had to offer could deal with such a terror. Not those fools at the Temple of Cirin’ Zar.

  It took little more than twenty minutes at their pace to reach Loria’s home. Nothing about the house made it stand out from the others on the street. Made of wood an with two stories, it was a modest affair. But even at this early hour, a small crowd had gathered at in front. The neighbors all cringed and shuddered together at the unearthly sounds emanating from the house.

  “GOD BE DAMNED THAT I WILL LIVE UNDER THE SAME ROOF AS JEGGINGS!”

  Another furious explosion of sound emanated from the upper floor. It was worse then the Mother thought. Could she save this poor soul? She turned to Loria, who seemed even more distraught than before.

  “Loria, I am going in. Pray for both me and your brother, understand?” Loria nodded.

  Mother Ureah strode towards the house and the crowd parted before her, allowing her to enter it unmolested. The interior resembled the rampages of some beast rather than a madman. Furniture was upended and a thick blanket of torn clothing decorated quite a bit of the room. The floor and walls were covered in slash marks, marking the path of destruction made by Kal. It lead her gaze towards the stairs and whatever lay above her.

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  Upstairs was even worse. Every step that brought her closer to Loria’s room felt like drumbeat of doom. The jibbering and roars emanating from the room made no sense at all. What exactly was a “cardigan” or even “a tube top”? Clearly, the spirit was scrambling poor Kal’s mind. She crouched by the doorway before peering inward.

  The young drow sat hunched over on the ground, his sword lying on the ground on his right side. He was the eye of a storm of torn garments and clothing some of which was slowly floating in the air, spiraling down towards the floor. With the blinds drawn and swaying with the breeze, the early morning sunlight that trickled through filled the room with writhing shadows. Everything about this scene screamed malevolent presence. 

  “How the fuck do I wake up in a new world and there are still jeggings here?” Kal/Evil Spirit muttered. “I thought maybe this world would be pure, free of the aberrations of my old life. But, noooooo. Even here there just so happens to be -” Mother Ureah heard a soft cry of despair emanate from the thing. “Jeggings!”

  Now was the time to strike. It was distracted. She wouldn’t get a better chance then this. The Mother sent a silent prayer to her goddess and also said a silent apology to Kal. Exorcisms were rarely pleasant for any of the parties involved.

  She raised her left hand, palm outstretched, and aimed at Kal’s back, and began her invocation.

  “I beseech thee, Herald of the Dawn. Lady of Forgiveness, I ask thee to free this poor being of the darkness that ensnares him. Use me as an instrument of your divine will. Banish and Purify!”

  The invocation was instantly answered. Ureah could feel Irilisar reaching into this world through her, using her body as a conduit for her divine power. Together, they directed divine power at the young drow before them. A solid ray of white energy shot out of the palm of her hand barreling straight into Kal/Evil Spirit. The radiance quickly spread through the drow’s entire body, growing in brilliance until it was too bright to look at.

  After a moment the light died down, signaling its end. Mother Ureah smiled to herself. Another successful exorcism indeed-

  “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!”

  Um, maybe not. Instead of being sprawled out on the floor, passed out from the exertion of the exorcism, Kal/Maybe Not Evil Spirit (?) now stood mere inches away from Mother Ureah. His eyes glowed with unrestrained malice and his sword was held in his left hand. With only a few fingers between them and the eerie shadowy backdrop, the Drow appeared as like some terrifying wraith or even a demon. Was this thing perhaps a demon in disguise? That could certainly explain why the tier one exorcism has no effect.

  “YOU WITH THE NUN COSPLAY! THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME-”

  Mother Ureah decided to fall back on the age old method of purging evil - a solid punch to the face. Luckily she was just as skilled, perhaps maybe even more, at it then exorcisms. So powerful was the blow that Kal/Maybe Demon flew backwards before slamming into the opposite wall, sliding downwards before settling into an unconscious heap.

  After quickly checking to make sure he was alive, Mother Ureah scratched her head. It seems she would need back up on this one. Taking out her trusty exorcism rope, Ureah began to tie up Kal. Back to the Temple it would seem.

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  Beneath Irilisar’s Temple, is a holy containment circle meant for the most troublesome of beings. As such it seemed the perfect place to keep Kal/ Maybe Demon while the clergy figured out what to do about him. The Temple’s leadership was clustered around the circle arguing with one another about what to do. Amidst the magic torch lights, casting shadows and dark red light, it seemed more a cultist gathering then of venerated clergy.

  As the others floundered about, Mother Ureah and Prelate Berdun quietly discussed their captive erm, patient, separate from the rest of them. The elderly dwarf may not be the head of the Velcern Sect, but his wisdom and experience was highly valued by all.

  “Are you sure he was simply spouting nonsense?” The Prelate stroked his excessively long beard. The length was almost detrimental since it was fingers away from trailing on the ground. “It seems to me that his words are the key to finding a solution.”

  “He was speaking of things that I’ve never heard of before. Terms like ‘Cardigan’, ‘tube top’, and something called ‘jeggings’. Obviously some form of abyssal speech.”

  The Prelate perked up at the last term. “Jeggings you say?” He pulled out his Illumination, Irilisar’s sacred text, and began to scan through its contents. His eyes lit up.

  “Here it is!”

  Ureah leaned close to look at the page. She was familiar with most of the text and its many passages but this one was unfamiliar. It was a short passage, telling tales of one of the goddess’s more obscure champions, a human woman by the name of Jay Lo. The tale spoke of her being an Outworlder, a being from a parallel reality. The left page displayed an artistic representation of the champion. The long-dead champion was quite buxom and curvy for a woman but what really he drew her eyes were her leggings. Painted in powerful blues, they reminded her heavily of the leggings Loria herself was wearing.

  A finger pointed to a particular line in the passage. “Read this out loud, Ureah.”

  “ ‘And so a young human woman appeared in a flash of aqua and crimson. Standing tall amongst all normal folk she was not only exotic in look but in dress. The words she spoke claimed that a supporter of jeggings was a being of true strength, and thus she was branded for life - Jay Lo, Champion of Irilisar and the Lady of Jeggings.’ “ The two chanters stared at each other. “Do you believe that Kal is an outworlder? But how does that make sense? We’ve known him all his life?”

  “There is the possibility he is a Reincarnant. That simply he is remembering the memories of a past life.”

  Ureah looked at the elderly man, eyes wide. “What does that mean for Kal? Are the two fighting for supremacy?”

  “I believe so,” the Prelate said gravely. His eyes looked at the unconcious form lying at the center of the magic circle. “It seems to me that the old personality is a bit unhinged. But all we can do is pray and wait.” He closed his eyes and clasped his hands in front of him. “May Irilisar have mercy on his, their, souls.”

  "May the gods have mercy on all of us for not being able to help this poor young elf," murmured Ureah. For Loria's sake, she hoped her good-for-nothing brother finally pulled his own weight this time. After all, hope was all that was left.