Runelords 43.1 - An Assistant for Quint

The arcanists all convened around the large central table for their daily meeting; it had been a few days since they had divided up the parts of the spell, but another few days still until they planned to cast the ritual. Tensions had been high and the room had remained extremely quiet the whole while, even for a library. The only ones whose whispers and chuckles penetrated the silence with any regularity were Eamon’s and Shadliss’, as they bonded over the random books they poured over with little else to do. 
Nisa glanced around the table dryly before she went straight to the point, as she always did, “As you all know, we need seven relics from each of the seven Magelords. I have located objects from Illusion and Conjuration. Lucretia supplied Transmutation, Ms. Kamun has Enchantment, and you all,” she gestured broadly to the remaining people, “brought Evocation, and...currently possess a suitable object from Necromancy. We are still short Abjuration. I am aware this is a bit of a long shot, but do any of you,” she pointed her question towards the adventurers, “know of anything pertaining to a particularly powerful abjurant artifact, or location, or anything that might keep us on schedule?” Her eyes glanced towards Lucretia and Koume with a hint of a disapproving look; they had partnered with Ms. Redfern far earlier, and apparently had not presented any ideas.
Quint and Virgil, for their parts, seemed to consider the question seriously; Luna continued to flip through a book, mostly ignoring those around her, while Khyr rocked back in his chair, his focus visually questionable, for what little that might mean. Suddenly, Virgil snapped his fingers, “The ithilium tank! Near Turtleback!” Nisa raised an eyebrow, interest piqued, while Koume and Lucretia stifled looks of frustration, the latter being far more successful in her efforts. “There was a vat of extremely potent abjurant source material on a lake bed less than a week from here. Maybe the vat would work? Oh, or maybe the foundation it was on, if we’re collecting stones.”
“Hmmm,” Nisa pondered blatantly to herself, “I wonder how something like that would have gotten so far into Transmutation’s domain from Dionisia…” She mused to herself for a minute, before glancing up to see everyone still assembled; turning to Virgil, she gave him a look that clearly asked why he was still there.
“...Would you like me to go fetch that for you?” Virgil asked politely.
“Yes, I would,” she replied cooly. “We have a schedule to keep.”
Virgil made a bit of a face before turning to Quint, “Would you mind very much teleporting me to a reservoir outside of Turtleback so I can jump in a lake?”
Quint sighed slightly, “I suppose it can’t be helped. This will be quick, correct? Last time I took you to Turtleback, you wasted three days and then left without leaving a note. Very rude.”
Sighing, “I’m sorry about that. We didn’t think you’d come back. This will be fast; I’m getting the rock and we’re leaving.”
“Good.” He pulled back his sleeves slightly, adding with a mutter, “At least I know to be preparing Teleport everyday by now…”
Meanwhile, Virgil turned to Luna. He said her name and she frowned deeply, “What.”
“Could I inconvenience you for a potion of Water Breathing? I’m not that confident in my ability to hold my breath long enough to lug something that heavy out of a lake.”
“Inconvenience is right…” she muttered, but added flippantly, “But fine. Better than what I figured you were going to ask.” She pulled her bag up beside her and began to take out equipment and ingredients; she hadn’t left her things unguarded after Khyr had stealthily reclaimed the mummy box from her a few days ago. 
Nisa stood up, “Hopefully, whatever you bring back will suffice. It will be good to know that the set is complete, and isn’t another potential hold-up.” With that, she walked back to where she had set up her things, her skeletal servant following obediently behind her. Lucretia followed suit, as did Koume, who added one last dirty look; apparently she had been keeping the knowledge of that substance close to hand and wasn’t best pleased with Nisa learning of it as well. 
As Luna finished up the potion, Khyr leaned forwards, “Want some help?”
“No, thanks,” Virgil said, voice tired. “Just going to drag a rock out. Not a big deal.”
“Remember what Foxy said though? There’s that weeeeird slow-motion thing there.”
Virgil shrugged, “If the Few got the vat away, there’s probably nothing special about the rock it was set on. If it’s still there, then the Few can probably help out. It’s nothing, really.”
Khyr looked at him for a long second before flicking his ears and adding, “Suit yourself!” as he slunk backwards in his chair again. 
“Here,” Luna said, off-handedly passing him a vial as she quickly packed up her things.
“Thank you.”
“Whatever,” she said, standing up and leaving. With another sigh, Virgil turned to Quint.
“Hmm,” Quint intoned, having watched that exchange. With a ‘none of my business’ shrug, he looked to Virgil for directions before the pair teleported away.
------
Finding themselves on the bank of the reservoir, Quint looked about dryly. “Is this the right lake?”
Virgil’s gaze roved side to side, “...Looks like it. Just...hang out I guess, until I get something to show for myself.” He began to remove some of his clothes and equipment to prepare for swimming, before gesturing to a large object some distance away, “You can go talk to the Few if you want. I think that’s them. Been having issues, I guess.”
Quint squinted, putting a hand over his eyes, “The Few, you say? The Few, the Few? The native extraplanars that sprang into existence some hundred and fifty years ago, the Few? Who only consort with the most influential people in Cafeyete and Akroum. Those Few?”
“Those are the ones. Plus they’ve got that vat of ithilium, so, that’s probably interesting too.” With a look of piqued interest, Quint shuffled off towards them, leaving Virgil to his business.
As the wizard approached, he could make out the vat clearly: a mostly-glass affair, but with metal bindings engraved with powerful magics. A black liquid sloshed about inside it, as it was carried painfully slowly by four floating alien creatures, whose appearances were unsettling and strange. As Quint took several steps closer, a fifth creature floated around from the far side, moving much more swiftly and seeming to avoid coming within a set perimeter of the glass. It held up two of its arms in a polite gesture, while its other two made a sort of barrier. “We’re sorry, but we advise you to not come any closer,” it spoke in a strange, affected accent, but its voice was calm and almost pleasant. “This object was discovered in the lake. We are moving it away from unsuspecting settlements like the nearby village. If you approach any further, you will fall under the effect of a time dilation spell that is permanently set into this vessel; you will perceive time at a drastically altered rate, and may experience ill effects.”
Quint’s curious gaze drifted between the Few and the vat, as though he couldn’t quite decide which was more interesting. “Time dilation, huh? So, I’d slow down, but wouldn’t be able to notice?”
“Yes,” it replied, folding its hands pleasantly, seeming somehow glad despite its unsettling, alien features. 
“Hmm. Shame. That looks like an interesting example of high security containment. Valparisan make. I’d like to look at it more closely.”
“I still cannot recommend that you approach. Though I would be happy to assist you in some other fashion, if you could be persuaded.”
“Really now?” Quint looked almost sly for a moment, his attention moving fully to the Few. “...You’re one of the Few?”
“Yes,” it lowered its head and moved its hands out in a bowing gesture. 
“Fascinating. I’ve heard of you; not much. You’re a quiet bunch; not a lot more than rumours.”
“Indeed,” it complied simply.
“Mind if I ask you some questions?”
“Not at all,” it said pleasantly. Gesturing behind it, it added, “If you continue to refrain from interfering with our task, I will be happy to answer your questions.” As Quint seemed to consider this offer seriously, weighing the intellectual value of studying the ithilium against a rare opportunity to speak with the Few, the Few added, “If I might ask you first, though: why did you come by this location? You did not walk here, and no one else has come to this area in the weeks we have been here.”
“Oh. Apparently that container there was sitting on a rock, and my...coworkers and I need that rock for a spell.”
The Few looked almost thoughtful, “Yes, it did rest on a stone pedestal. It is rather large though; I assume you have prepared appropriate magic for extraction?”
“I was just supposed to get us here; Virgil...whatever his name is, he’s getting the rock.”
After a moment of pondering silence, the Few commented, “He probably requires assistance.” One of the four holding the vat had let go, and after a tedious moment of drifting slowly, it broke free of the aura and moved towards the lake at a quick pace, floating down and into the water without hesitation. The Few still standing with Quint commented, “He is prone to not asking for assistance with tasks he perceives as mundane, or as something that should be within his ability, whether or not it is in actuality. The rock is likely larger than a single person can move.”
“As long as it gets up here,” Quint said with slight dismissal, obviously interested in other topics. “So, from my understanding, you accompany people of note: politicians, statesmen, inventors, artists...wizards, of prominent standing.”
“Yes. We strive to learn, and to assist people in their endeavors when they stand to make a difference in the world.”
The man puffed up slightly, “I apologize for not introducing myself properly yet. My name is Brodert Quint, pleasure to meet you,” he said with a bow of his head that the Few returned. “Was a doctoral, at the University of Mollaco, did some groundbreaking work on Valparisan arcane methodology applied to current-day Conjurant principles, made some discoveries of ruined Valparisan sites in Ortega…” he trailed off slightly, waiting for the Few to reply.
It seemed deeply considering, before it said, “...Yes. We have seen that name. You are a contemporary of Gregore Raltin’s work.”
“Yes! Excellent,” he said, pleased to have been recognized. “I’ve been making some extremely promising findings recently. A few relics possessed by the ancient Magelords themselves, a positively thrilling ruin discovery, and! I have made what might be a revolutionary breakthrough in the summons of extraplanars!” The Few floated patiently, listening with intent. “Not quite enough yet to share with the broader community, but with a bit of extra polish, some trials, perhaps a touch of help from a qualified assistant…” he stressed that point noticeably, “I might fundamentally change the way summons are conducted.”
“That sounds extremely interesting,” it said placidly.
“Of course!” Quint exclaimed before delving into a much more detailed explanation of his work. The Few floated patiently, adding in an occasional comment or question which only served to highlight its complete understanding and interest, which in turn goaded the wizard into more and more technical language. After a time, he smiled, “Well! You are well-educated, and in useful topics no less. Not that I thought you weren’t, but, I don’t know if you’ve spent much time in schools. People all over saying they know this and that, but really just read a book once and didn’t understand anything after the introduction.”
“We do strive continually for greater technical proficiency, yes,” the Few mentioned. As Quint opened his mouth to speak, the Few interrupted, “If I might ask a question, before you continue: how much do you know of Virgil? He does not look how he did the last we saw him, and something about him...seems strange, to us.”
Quint rolled his eyes slightly: this was not an interesting avenue of conversation. “Well, he keeps talking like he knows you, but it’s not like he ever comes off as a credible source.”
“We know him very well,” the Few asserted. “We know his family very well. We admit we have not seen him in some time, but his appearance has changed dramatically.”
Considering this for a moment, Quint seemed to come to a conclusion and said with some pride, “I suppose I can tell you then; remember how I mentioned the breakthroughs in summoning? I managed to develop a summons spell that deflects the cost of service back onto the target. Definitely needs more work though, more trials.” He shrugged and added, “He was one of the beings I managed to summon. Wasn’t quite the sort that I was aiming for, was hoping for people a bit more reliable, more learned, more...well-mannered, I suppose, but I can’t quite complain about the outcome.”
The Few tilted its head slightly, “This spell altered his appearance? Or was the change at your behest?”
“Oh no,” Quint shook his head. “The three extraplanars I summoned, he was one of them, they left on some of their own fiddly business, and somehow came back as Materians, or so they claim. They all look different, that’s for certain, and the spells that bound them here fizzled out, but I can’t say I…”
He stopped short and flinched as suddenly a new voice spoke behind him, “I’m terribly sorry, would you mind repeating that?” Quint turned around to see another figure: a very tall, sharply dressed man wearing thick, green-tinted glasses. As he looked at him, it became apparent that his height was the result of him floating several inches above the ground, and the proportions of his limbs seemed skewed; he was not human. “Apologies for startling you,” he said; his voice was accented in a way that Quint couldn’t recognize, but it was a smooth, human accent, unlike the jarring affection of the Few’s. 
Quint straightened himself and made a soft ‘harumph’. “That wasn’t exactly polite.”
“Apologies again,” the strange man said, though a grin played softly around his lips. “I am the Director of the Few.” Quint blinked, taking that in for a second before he straightened himself again, this time with attention paid to looking sharp. “You said that ‘the extraplanars became Materian’?”
“That’s what they said. Wasn’t there myself,” Quint said quickly. “They all came back looking different, and they had been bound by a summoning spell cast by me, which did spontaneously depower without sending them back to their home planes, but I can’t say I know how they managed to do something like that.”
The Director seemed a tad perplexed, his expression mirrored by the alien Few. Eventually, he said simply, directed at nothing, “Ascension. That’s what we sensed. That’s what is different.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Never mind,” the Director said with a slight shake of his head. “I’m certain Virgil will be more than thrilled to explain.”
Quint raised an eyebrow, “No offense to your taste in company, but I can’t believe you’d take what any of those people say at face value.” He added concedingly, “Except that Luna girl. She has a good head on her shoulders. Been very short-tempered lately though…”
“We aren’t familiar with these ‘others’ you mention, only Virgil,” the Director said. “And we know him more than well enough to know that he is nothing if not distressingly honest, most of the time. But that is besides the point; we interrupted you. Please continue.”
“Uhm. Hmph. Well,” he cleared his throat, slightly flustered. Composing himself, he quickly got back onto topic, and carried on discussing his work, not being particularly subtle about how much could be gained by the field as a whole if he had a qualified, intelligent, capable assistant. The Director floated patiently, his demeanor markedly similar to the other Few, but his almost-human appearance seemed to only underscore the passive strangeness of his behaviour. 
Eventually, Quint was interrupted by the return of Virgil and the Few who had gone to help him. The Arm carried the rock up onto the bank nearby, as Virgil thanked it before drying them both off magically and reclaiming his bag and clothes. As he finished straightening himself, he joined Quint and the Director. “Alright. We’ve got what we came for. Thanks again for the help, guys,” Virgil said to the Few; the Arms who were not actively engaged with the vat bowed their heads. Virgil turned towards the Director and asked with a half-grin, “What brought you out here, Mr. Webber?”
“You ascended,” he said with an air of curiosity. “On Materia.”
“Uhhh,” Virgil said, a look of discomfort immediately settling in. “Yeah. Yeah, I...guess. Yes.” The Director’s eyebrow quirked slightly with confusion, an emotion that seemed to be mirrored across the Arms. “But! Uhm, we, have to be going. Doing, some important things, on a timeline, people are waiting, and it’s a long story that we don’t really have time for right now,” Virgil floundered slightly as he made up his excuse, ending with a pointed look at Quint. 
The elder man seemed almost more confused than the Director did, but it was not difficult to get Virgil’s point. He cleared his throat again, “He’s not wrong, I suppose. Very important ritual we’re doing, very intriguing research. Going to open a demiplane reserved for the very best of Valparisan arcanists. Could be momentous.” He looked pointedly at the Director for a second. 
The Director looked at Quint inscrutably, until Virgil broke the silence, “It will certainly be worth your while to watch. Trust me.”
Slowly, the Director quirked his head to the other side, before he raised one of his hands. With a small, off-handed gesture, another Arm appeared. It bowed towards Quint, saying, “If I may, I would like to accompany you, to observe and learn from you. In exchange, I hope to be of assistance in your work.”
Quint could barely contain his excitement at having achieved this quantifiable level of recognition. “Certainly! Never turn away a willing student, especially one who can pull their weight, I say.”
“I can carry this,” it offered, collecting up the large stone.
The wizard blinked, “...Yes, that wasn’t what I meant, but thank you! Definitely a large help.” He turned back to the Director, “So, you’ve mentioned this ascension a few times. I’ve never heard of that.” 
As Virgil aggressively rubbed the bridge of his nose, the Director turned back towards Quint and explained evenly, “As we understand it, certain individuals can be granted a sort of nebulous but tangible ability from the absolute powers of a plane.”
“You mean gods?” Quint asked.
“In a sense, yes. The ability takes different forms, depending on who receives the favour: longevity and health, combat prowess, heightened physical ability, and unique magical mastery have all been noted, as well as a general tendency to have an increased likelihood to succeed at endeavours. People, or objects, imbued with that power give off a certain...sense of portent, that not everyone can notice. However, forcing the power to activate tends to cause a visual effect of some kind. Minor colour or form effects, like a lot of overpowered magic produces.” Quint nodded, taking in the information, as the Director continued, “It is also known that the individual’s form becomes that of whatever plane granted the ability: for example, a human ascendant of evil becomes a devil. It stands to reason that a devil ascended by law would become a mortal.”
“Ok, well, I’ll just be waiting over here, when you’re done,” Virgil said quickly, excusing himself before he quickly strode away.
The Few all watched him leave with looks of almost concern, but Quint paid no mind, “So, this...ascendant power: is it replicable? Can someone obtain it through a proven means?”
Turning his attention back towards Quint, the Director continued to explain, “Possibly. There is a shrine on an unmapped island in the open sea, east off the coast of southern Dionisia. However, it is protected by passive magical wards that shroud its location and produce storms and monsters that bar approach. Should someone reach it, it is sealed, and only certain people are permitted to enter; we do not know the qualities that grant access. Finally, there is an altar within that can be used to summon a tri-fold aspect of the Materian gods; we suspect that only certain individuals can successfully summon them and receive lawful ascension.”
“Hrmm,” Quint frowned thoughtfully, “Doesn’t sound very proven to me.”
“Hardly. It is likely closer to an instance of divine magic than arcane, with all of the variance that that brings.”
“Ugh, yes, I suppose that makes sense. Should have guessed that when you mentioned gods.”
“Indeed. To conflagrate further…” the Director pondered, “What has the timeline been, between your summons of Virgil and now?”
“Hrm. Would have been, four, four and a half months ago? But...hmn, they would have left Sandpoint as extraplanars at the beginning of Tevet, and the spell fizzled on...couldn’t have even been a month after that.”
“The Sandpoint you refer to...is...on the coast of Calele?”
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“As we thought. One cannot teleport to that island. It would be almost certainly impossible for non-direct transportation to have brought them to that island from the coast of Calele in that short of a time frame. An ascension must have taken place at a different location, under different circumstances, which means there must be multiple ways to attain lawful ascension. We have heard of a ritual, that was demonstrably used to attain evil ascension in two cases, but it is also almost certainly not the only way. It is hardly an understood science.”
“Hmm. But if there are rituals and shrines, it must be at least partially replicable, in theory,” Quint mused. “People have started up religious acts to explain the precise factors that they haven’t figured out yet.”
“That’s a possibility. We have generally interpreted the act of ascension as a sign that the individual either has, or will do, something of drastic importance for the plane,” he said.
“Maybe it’s a measure of a person’s natural abilities compared to others of their race,” he mused, and as he continued, the two fell into an in-depth discussion of ascendancy. Virgil had wandered some distance away, and could be seen pacing about.
After a moderately long discussion, the Director declared, “Though this has been an enjoyable conversation, I’m afraid I am needed elsewhere.”
“Oh! Of course,” Quint said. “Thank you for the talk. It was very good to speak with you, and an honour to meet someone of your standing. I appreciate you taking the time out of your day.” 
“Likewise, Mr. Quint,” he said with a bow. “We look forward to seeing what you can teach us.” He bowed respectfully before suddenly vanishing, his natural abilities allowing him to teleport without a spell. 
Taking a second to process that meeting, Quint gave a proud smile and turned to the Arm that floated beside him, “Well! Let’s get on with our day, shall we? Lots to do.” He strode over to when he could see Virgil, the Arm carrying the stone behind him. 
Virgil happened to see Quint approaching, and closed the gap between them. “Alright, let’s get going,” Quint said, pushing back his sleeves to cast the spell that returned the trio to the library. 
The Arm looked about the room with interest, as Quint puffed up proudly again, gesturing about and explaining the importance of the collection. Virgil took his leave, moving back to a quiet place away from the others.
Some time much later, as most of the others slept, the Arm floated over silently to where Virgil sat, apparently unable to sleep. The Arm just floated speechlessly, watching until eventually the man glanced up towards it. “...Please don’t tell anyone yet…” he asked hoarsely, as his gaze fell back down again. The Few looked at him inscrutably for a moment before bowing its head in acknowledgement. Still saying nothing, it floated over to him and wrapped its four metallic arms around his shoulders in a curious hug. A vague half-smile touched his mouth as he leaned into the awkward embrace. “Thanks.”
“We do not know what bothers you, so we can do little else,” it said quietly.
“Yeah, I know…” Virgil said. The Few pulled back, regarded him for another short pause, and bowed its head before returning to its business. 
Category:Rise of the Runelords