Session 25 Ivasar - Untitled, Achithil 1st, 681PT

*“With friends like these…”*

After our talk with Lucretia, Milton escorted us out of the castle and back to the camp.  He had questions but we gave him no answers, though I couldn’t resist giving the guard that so rudely denied us entrance a look of disappointment as we walked on past.

Finally when we had a bit of privacy we discussed amongst ourselves what we had learned from her and what we thought we should do.  I expressed feelings of distrust and unease bringing up the bloodthirsty blood magic ritual and her unwillingness to allow for second thoughts.  Though truth be told I was more concerned of how sure she could be that this delirium had changed for the better.  In all my experiences, it has brought nothing but ruin to those of this plane.  My companions seemed to agree, but we thought it best to seek some information from other factions, namely the Amethyst Academy.

After a long uneventful rest, with our newfound companion Ali asleep nearby, we met with the Weezards.  Viter, in true Viter-esque fashion unleashed a ferocious flurry of fantastic fireballs and not a jaw was dropped amongst the wee-ones.  Even I must admit as I was watching this I felt glad to have such a wizard on our side, despite past reservations.  Inquiring about the success of their task, the Weezards had found a number of branded Vandywax crates, including food and military supplies.  We briefly contemplated a bit of sabotage but abandoned the idea quickly as it could place them in harm’s way.

Instead we devoted the day to training, with Viter attempting to teach them the principles of silence and stealth.  I felt compelled to step as it is not the domain of any wizard but almost fumbled the lesson myself.  With a bit of luck it was saved and I imparted the way of the animals and insects, how they kept themselves hidden and melded with nature.  A few of the more promising students I was able to take aside later in the day.  They showed some talent, or at least interest and I showed them the offshoot of the Winter Maple.  With a bit of their care and my tutelage, hopefully it can grow into something greater, though I am still troubled by the vision of the dark spike, deep in its roots.

Ember spent the day watching the camp, talking to the followers.  She said that it was clear that they were becoming more organized by the day and full of hope.  Meeting with Altair they discreetly discussed Lucretia’s ritual, with both expressing guarded reservations.  Altair confided that he had been keeping an eye on a few of those that he did not fully trust, such as Milton, seeming to rise so quickly in the ranks without merit.

After a communal lunch with the camp, we set out through the city again, passing by the Cathedral of St. Vitruvio, though a stream of foul smells threatened to regurgitate our modest fare.  On closer inspection there was a vast scattering of corpses, bones and filth surrounding the newly but crudely reinforced walls, complete with heads adorning the iron fence.

Viter uncharacteristically, though it may have been for some wizardy-reason, felt compelled to walk towards this gnoll stronghold despite the obvious threat and that our mission was nowhere near this place.  We called to him, telling him to retreat and three arrows from the cathedral punctuated our point, but still he insisted.  He said that he felt that a voice called to him and as if a person that he knew was in there, though he could name no names.  I thought that he may had fallen under a spell and tried to scry as much.  Nothing obvious was detected but a faint glimmer of something else, something special was there, but undescernable to me.

Given his behaviour the bonds of friendship between him and Ember began to fray.  They had a bit of a spat, not the best place, but one I think that had been simmering for awhile.  She accused him of dishonesty and of pretension and Viter blandly deflected her concerns.  The trust was not reciprocated but they decided to put it aside for now…

Arriving at the templar’s gate we found the Leshen statue still in place and the leaders of the Amethyst Academy but with a new figure.  A rambling, buzzing figure of a gnome, who on introduction was the famed Master Fonkin Jones!  A swarm of mage hands worked on various projects, hammering, melting, forging and inscribing runes at a dizzying pace, with blueish adamantium and delirium shards being shaped.

Meeting with the leader of the Amethyst Academy, Elric, Ember stiffly and formally introduced herself, as befitting a noble of Caspia, but then had a very pointed line of questioning, about her lost relatives.  Unfortunately Elric had little manners and even less information to give her.  Wisely she disengaged before tempers were lost and went to talk to Tara, and proved to be unfailingly kind to her, in a bit of a snub.

In their discussion, Ember talked about seeing the Shadowfell particularly in her exploration of the Clocktower, and Tara replied that if one of the planes had pierced this realm then the counterplane had most likely as well.  Both Fey and Shadowfell were here.  Though Tara sensed something on her, a white hair that came from the Shadowfell.  Our minds raced thinking who it could be, Milton? Lucretia?  River offered to scry for the owner if we were to help her gather a component, an artifact in a museum in the west side of the city, the Crocus Eye.

At that moment I sensed something familiar but foul, turning about and seeing a predictable shower of leaves, Galen Bryzana!  He had arrived.