Chapter 2

Linea is seated at a table near her,
poring over maps and studying texts on magic.

Oren creeps out of his room, trying to
discretely find Eliam or Votig. He opens his door, moves out into the
hall and immediately steps in a bucket.

The sound goes undetected by Minerva
and Linea as they are completely engrossed in their individual tasks.

Oren removes his foot from the bucket,
looks around, and scampers to the nearest door. He knocks quickly and
enters. Eliam looks up at him from his bed, wondering why he came in.

"Eliam, Minerva is sharpening
things and packing things and I think we're leaving soon," the
mage says.

"That was fast,” he answers.
“She did look excited to leave, though. Is everything okay?"

"Ummm... maybe?"

Voices from down the hall tell you
Minerva and Linea are loudly conversing about something.

"Hmm... are you having second
thoughts about going?” Eliam guesses. “It's not too late to back
out, I suppose."

"Not really. It just seems sort of
sudden, but I guess it's better than staying here," Oren
answers. "We don't even know where we're going and she's ready
to leave."

"We really haven't had a lot of
time to prepare,” the bard agrees. “I guess this is a bit
reckless."

There are running footsteps in the
hallway, and suddenly there's a knocking at all the doors the party
were sleeping behind. "Hey, I've been packing! Get up, get up,
get up!" It's Minerva's voice. Oren makes a face at the
interruption.

"Last chance, I guess,” Eliam
says. “What do you suggest we do?"

"I figured you would have a plan.”

He thinks for a moment. "I'd say
we could go pick up supplies, but by the time the shops open patrols
are sure to be out in force. But I'm sure we'll find a place to buy
things on the way."

"That's true."

Linea's voice is now audible in the
hallway outside, sounding calm. "Hush, now, child. The warriors
have earned their rest. Go gather the bandages from the medical room
and put them in your bag." A pair of footsteps quickly retreats
from the hallway. Then a quieter knock sounds on all three doors.
"Are you awake, friends? Might we speak?"

Oren looks at Eliam expectantly.

"It's way too early for this,"
he says under his breath as he gets up to open the door.

Linea looks at Eliam, says, "Good
morning," and her voice pauses for the slightest second as she
looks past him and sees Oren already in his bedroom. She poorly
attempts to conceal the slightest approving smile, and turns to knock
once more on Votig's door.

Oren whispers to Eliam, "why is
she so happy to see me?"

"She thinks I seduced you,"
he whispers back to him.

He thinks about that for a minute.
“That makes sense."

Deciding that Votig is passed out,
Linea decides to speak to Eliam and Oren while Minerva is gone. "I
want to thank you both for agreeing to help her. I know she's excited
to leave immediately, but I think a lot of her haste is coming out of
desperation to avenge her father. She's not thinking clearly at the
moment."

"We have a destination and we know
how to get there, so you really can leave at any time... but rushing
recklessly into a situation, as I'm sure you know, is dangerous. I'm
rather counting on you to slow her up a little and keep her from
being too rash, especially now.”

"I'm sorry for placing such a
burden on you," she adds. "But know that I've confirmed
your travel plans and we've been gathering some supplies. If there's
anything in particular you think you need, we can send someone out to
try and gather it."

Linea turns so that her words are more
clearly audible from Votig's door. "Even if you require
something pleasurable to be acquired, such as beer."

"Can you get some vials?"
Oren asks politely.

"Empty or vials of something?"

"Empty."

"Certainly. I keep several on site
in case they are needed for potions or healing,” Linea answers.

The door to Votig's room swings open,
and the dwarf appears. "Eh? Did someone say beer? Don't mind if
I do.”

Linea chuckles despite herself. "We'll
send someone to pick some up for you, sir."

"We'll need someone to carry all
this,” Eliam says. “I'm certainly not doing it.”

"A pack horse should carry a keg
or three,” Votig answers.

"I believe we could find one if
you feel it's necessary. Certainly it would slow you down a little so
Minerva would have some more time to process..." Linea mumbles,
almost to herself rather than to you.

"Aye, sound like a good idea then,
I reckon,” agrees Votig. “Grief never be easy. Plus,” he adds,
“ale."

"Do either of you know how to...
drive... a pack horse?" asks Oren.

"Haven't traveled much have ya
lad? Ye don't drive one, ye just lead it along while ye walk or ride
beside it."

"How are we getting to the
bramble?” Oren continues. “Boat or walking? Isn't it far?"

“I'd say boat or riding. Seems a bit
daft to walk there,” answers Votig. “And I personally like solid
ground beneath me feet."

"Do we have a boat?" the mage
asks.

"Ah, who needs a boat when we got
horses,” Votig dismisses him. “They'll get us there in a timely
fashion." His voice sounds a little off at the thought of travel
by water.

"Well I don't think they'd let
your pack horse on a boat, would they?"

Linea nods to Oren and says, "If
it is a boat you wish, we can book passage for you on a ferry south
along the Sages' River."

"Well... that would probably end
up being faster,” says Eliam.

"Ah, but didn't we want time fer
Minerva to process? Seems rushin' into it would be risky."

"Do we even know where the orcs
are heading? There are many wells,” Oren continues his
questioning. "Could we take a boat back after we are done?"

"Certainly. We could arrange for a
wagon to take you there, and then provide tickets for a ferry to
return home, if you wish to come back to Ushad," Linea says,
tapping her chin thoughtfully.

Oren looks at Eliam and Votig, waiting
for them to decide.

"Either one is fine with me, as
long as we're out of here before this place gets swarmed,” Eliam
says.

“The boat seems more trouble than its
worth. And we don't even know when we be comin' back. Or if,” Votig
adds grimly

Oren nods, then pauses. “Wait what?"

“There's bound ta be tougher orcs
than what we faced last night, lad."

"Oh,” he says, returning to his
room to pack.

Linea gathers the Lyriad to go collect
some of the effects the party have asked for: vials, ale, vials of
ale, and so forth. Members of the Lyriad spend the day loading and
preparing a wagon, and the group departs the following morning.
Minerva had been antsy to leave that same day, but Linea managed to
talk her down, convincing her that time may have been of the essence,
but arriving there unprepared would have been just as bad.

 A hard day of riding sees them reach
the evening perhaps an hour's drive from the main road. They have
traveled south-west from Ushad and have stopped in a field to rest
for the night. A campfire would be a wise choice, though Minerva
declines to make one. She has been quietly sharpening her daggers in
the back of the caravan all afternoon.

Votig gathers some flint and tinder
from the wagon, and though there are few trees in the plains, he
manages to find enough wood to start a decent fire. As he fails to
spark the fire, he lets out a string of dwarvish and common curses.

"Do you need help?" asks
Oren.

"Ya got a fire spell in yer mind
there, mage?"

Oren walks over and takes the flint and
steel. A merry fire pops up from the gathered wood, spreading warmth
and light across the party. Minerva sits down near the fire silently.

Oren takes out a dragonfruit pie as
Votig cooks dinner, and cuts a hearty slice. He passes the pie to
Eliam, who follows his lead and passes it on to Minerva.

Votig rummages through the food
supplies, nodding approvingly. "This should do right well. I'll
make ya some of me mum's stout stew. It was a favorite back in me
town."

Oren prepares the bowls as Votig cooks.
The dinner is done, and the dwarf offers some to everyone in turn
Minerva accepts a bowl and a smile crosses her face briefly.

"I've never had dwarven cooking
before," Eliam says as he tastes it. "It's surprisingly
edible"

Minerva smiles sadly. She finishes her
bowl and says, "My father... I remember him and this soup."

She sets her bowl down and leans back
on the grass, staring up at the first pinpricks of light shining down
from the stars as they peek out from the oncoming night sky. She
chuckles. "He hated this soup so much. Sorry, Votig."

"There was a dwarf who tried to
rip him off once, by selling him this soup. Offered him a bowl for
twelve copper. Dad had never had it so he said he'd love to try
some."

Minerva stretches her arms and legs out
to feel the grass brushing against her skin as she talks. She moves
them back and forth, rustling the blades as she talks. "He gave
the dwarf the money and the guy put the soup in front of him to try.
It was a little lukewarm but Dad was still excited to try it."

"Dad took one sip and his face
betrayed his feelings." Minerva begins to chuckle in earnest.
"His mouth never twitched so much; he couldn't handle the flavor
but he tried so hard to hide it."

"Well, the dwarf caught on, of
course. Seemed to think the big dumb human was insulting his cooking,
so he picked up the entire bowl and dumped it on Dad's head."

Minerva wipes a tear from one eye as
she makes herself finish the story. "Dad got all upset, of
course. Told the guy that he was owed his money back, seeing as how
he didn't get to have more than a spoonful. The Dwarf gave him one
copper back and said that was as much as he'd had."

"Dad didn't like that, of course,
so he cracked the guy on the head with the bowl. I'd never been more
embarrassed in my life!" she finished. Her voice grows soft as
she adds to herself, just loudly enough to hear, "I wonder what
else he'd have done to embarrass me if he were still here... He used
to love doing that."

She sits up straight and tries to look
around at all of you, saying, "I'm sorry I've been pushing you
into this so quickly. I'm sure it's not been easy to change your
lives so suddenly and get caught up in all of this. I'm getting used
to a new world, too. But thank you, all the same."

And without waiting for a response, she
flops back down on the grass and loses herself in the heavens as the
constellations reveal themselves one star at a time.

After Minerva's tale, Votig realizes
how little he knows about his other companions. "So what's your
story, lads? What brought ye to Ushad?" He asks, as he pours ale
for everyone.

"I was in Ushad because... I was
traveling,” Oren answers. “What is that?” he adds, staring at
Eliam's lute.

"It's a musical instrument,"
the bard answers while strumming it. "I'm not really... trained
in instruments like this, but I figure it can't be too hard to learn.
I'm certain the man who gave it to me couldn't play it any better
anyways."

"Oh,” the mage answers. ”That's
nice"

 Minerva twirls one of her daggers
between her fingers as she speaks, laying atop the grass. "There's
not much to tell, really. I'm from Tezef, the forest shipyard in the
north. We were one of the last cities where the Rorgh Clans took hold
after they were hired by the Elyde. They killed my mother, and my
father and I swore that we'd never rest until our lands were free
from their oppression. I don't like to talk about it."

“After Mom died, Dad and I resettled
in Ushad because we heard there were others there willing to make a
fight of it and free our home. Of course, Dad didn't tell me that at
first. I was only, like, twelve. But he couldn't keep it from me
forever, and of course I wanted to help, too.”

"We did our best, all those years.
I like to think we've saved some lives here and there. Some went into
hiding by joining us and helped us resist. Others died. Somehow we
always got lucky. At least, we did."

She replaces her dagger in its sheath,
then rests her head on her hands. "And you, Votig? Surely
someone who holds his ale as well as you has a story or two to tell."

"Hah! A bit more than a tale I
suppose. It all started when I was a wee lad. What a rambunctious
tyke i was! Always gettin' inta fights, ya know. Makin' me poor mum
worried, I was. Never helped out much with the inn I suppose, or as
much as she wanted anyway. Ah, but ya know how kids are. I bet yer
dad had the same worry every time ya took the streets,” Votig
answers, downing his mug of ale.

Minerva laughs, one of her first true
laughs since the battle. "Hardly. My father barely let me out of
the house once Mom... well, you know. Once I joined the Lyriad,
though, he insisting on accompanying me on every mission for two
years. It wasn't until I was an adult and he knew how capable I was
that he decided I didn't need him with me on every single mission."

Wistfully, she adds, "I'd trade
the freedom for him to join me on this one, though..."

"So your mom owned an inn?"
Minerva asks, getting herself back on track. "Sounds exciting. I
bet you met a lot of different people."

"Aye, she does. In the town of
Marblebrook, to the northeast of here. Should still be there, I bet.
Well, northeast of Ushad. A nice place."

"That sounds nice. Maybe we should
go someday..." Minerva lapses into silence for a moment, lost in
thought.

"As for me,” Eliam says
unprompted, “My father owns a small manor up north. Nothing too
fancy, really, only maybe a dozen servants. Unfortunately there were
a few... incidents, so now I find myself here, among you delightful
people. See, I noticed this lute here in the hands of some unkempt
beggar on the streets, singing for his supper. Naturally, I couldn't
idly sit by. Imagine an instrument like this languishing under some
thatch roof somewhere! I told him it looked identical to my dear,
ailing grandmother’s and she would be overjoyed to see an
instrument like it again. He let me borrow it, after some convincing.
But when my father found out about this and a few other items I'd
rescued from being wasted, along with some other... problems, he told
me to leave and not return until I learned some 'humility'. Utterly
unreasonable, of course, but I'm sure he'll come around eventually."

"You should have asked him to
teach you,” Oren says.

"I probably should have... maybe
we'll find someone who can use this thing on the way."

"I'd recommend it if you like the
mountains,” Votig says to Minerva. “But ah, I'll hafta skip out
on joinin'.” He looks over at Eliam, taking in his tale. He downs
another mug, thinking about how crazy human customs are.

Minerva slightly raises an eyebrow at
Votig's reluctance to return home, but decides instead to learn about
the member of the group who has been the quietest thus far. "And
you, Oren? You've not said much so far."

“Huh?”

She rolls over so she's looking
directly at Oren. "Tell us a little about yourself. Where are
you from?"

"I lived outside a town northeast
of Ushad,” he answers.

"Nice place?"

"Yea,” Oren says. “I didn't go
into the town much so I don't know how it compares to other towns."

"Ah, you're a country bumpkin,
huh?" Minerva says, teasing a little.

"I don't know what that is.”

"Grew up in the country, small
town? Isn't very familiar with larger cities? Never mind,"
Minerva says hastily. "You didn't like towns much?"

"They're okay, but I didn't need
to go there much.”

"So... you must have grown up on a
farm or something then?” Eliam asks.

"No.”

"Hmmm... so it's a guessing game!”
Eliam says cheerfully. “Let's see. How many siblings do you have?"

"Two! I guess two!" chimes in
Minerva.

"One." Oren answers. "I
have a sister."

"Aww," says Minerva.

"Ohhh? And what's she like?”
Eliam asks. “Maybe you should introduce us."

"I don't know, I haven't seen her
in a while.”

"Oh... stayed behind to take care
of the family home?" the bard responds.

"She stayed with my uncle I guess,
I left. Do you... people have a sibling?"

"No,” Votig answers.

"That's nice,” Oren says, moving
away from the fire a bit. He puts his hood up and curls up in his
cloak, trying to sleep.

Votig drinks some more, lost in
thought. "I can take first watch."

Minerva offers to take second watch,
believing she won't sleep much anyway.

"What's that mean?" asks
Oren.

"You'll just stay up late at night
to make sure we don't get our camp raided by bandits or wild
animals,” answers Eliam. “... And with our good volunteers, that
should be the watch taken care of."

"Oh,” Oren says, as he turns to
go to sleep.

As the group nears the city, Minerva is
thoughtfully looking at a map provided to her by Linea. "Hey,
before we get any closer, we should really think about what we're
going to be doing when we get to Saloria."

"Saloria's pretty quiet and small,
which means it'll be hard to hide if we need to. There's a chapter of
the Lyriad out this way but it's tiny and really just here to see if
there are any potential recruits. I don't think there are any glyphs
or hideouts here." Minerva taps her chin as she continues to
study the map. "Linea was talking this over with me and she says
we likely have two options. She has a reasonable guess where the
wellspring is, but she can only be accurate within a hour or two's
walk, so as of right now we'd have to do some searching. Option one
is to swing wide around Saloria, head for the Bramble and start
looking for the wellspring."

"Option two is to enter the city
and start asking questions. Someone in town might be able to give us
a more accurate idea of where the wellspring is... maybe even take us
there."

Minerva puts the map away and folds her
arms over her chest. "Obviously, going into town risks contact
with the Rorgh, but it may get us to the wellspring more quickly.
Avoiding the town may be safer, but we might have to spend longer in
the Bramble and I don't have to tell you how dangerous that can be.
What do you guys think?" she asks.

"Why not both? Split up an' cover
more ground,” suggests Votig.

"I agree with Votig,” Oren says.
“He's clearly done this before. But who will go to town and who
will be looking for the well?”

"I'll head to the bramble,”
Votig volunteers.

"I'll head into the town then,”
offers Eliam.

Oren thinks for a moment. "Who do
you want to come with you to town?"

"Either of you are fine. I don't
mind either way,” Eliam answers. "Do you have a preference,
Votig?"

“Uhhhh... I reckon Oren. Never know
when ye could use a mage."

"Okay," says Minerva. "I'll
join Eliam in town. One problem, though: we've only got one copy of
Linea's map. You can take this to try and navigate the Bramble, or we
can take it to town to see if anyone can mark it with the
wellspring's location."

"Safer to wander town without a
map than the forest, probably,” Eliam says.

Oren nods.

"That's true. Okay, then."
Minerva hands the map over to Votig and settles down in the wagon.

"Are you two taking the cart?”
Oren asks. “There are no roads where we're going, probably.”

"We probably should... Better than
letting it get stuck in some roots and branches once you get in the
Bramble. You could take the horses, though,” Minerva offers.

"Might be faster on foot,” Votig
points out. “Even the horses could slow us down in there."

With the party decided on a course of
action, Votig and Oren separate from the party in town and venture
into the Bramble, searching for the wellspring. Eliam remains in town
with Minerva to see if they can find a more precise location.

As the pair begin to walk into the
forest, the branches begin to thicken with brown leaves. The light in
the Bramble begins to dim as the canopy blots out the sun.

"This is nice,” Oren says.

"I figure we'll start headin'
north,” responds Votig.

Votig and Oren move north, parallel
with the edge of the Bramble. The lighting of the forest remains
unchanged.

As Oren progresses deeper into the
Bramble, he began to sense an increasing amount of magical energy
permeating the air. Now that he is moving northward, he notes that
the amount of magical aether that surrounds him is marginally
decreasing. He feels that the source of all this magical energy may
be the wellspring.

"I think we're going the wrong
way,” Oren says as he moves south.

"Ye a druid now, mage? I believe
we be goin' the right way."

"Nope.” Oren keeps walking the
other way, as Votig grumbles to himself.

Traveling south, Oren is certain that
moving north and south parallel with the edge of the Bramble is
making no difference in the concentration of aether. He is absolutely
certain that there is a mass of magic to the west.

"It's that way," Oren points
to the magic as Votig follows.

As they continue to progress to the
west, Oren notes that the aether in the air is continuing to grow in
concentration. It is gradually beginning to reach a point of
saturation that makes it very difficult to determine a direction to
travel in. Still, they press on, the forest dimming as the canopy
thickens still and the sun arcs gradually lower.

Oren knows that aether is the root of
magic; it permeates everything and it is the manipulation of aether
that allows for magical feats to be performed. He also knows that
high concentrations of aether can affect different forms of life in
different ways. As they progress, he starts to notice that the
browned leaves in the trees are beginning to be speckled with dots of
green. Each leaf seems to have a higher amount of green dots on one
side than on the other. He points out the leaves to Votig, who fails
to see any pattern to them.

They continue to the west for half an
hour. Oren sees that the green has disappeared from the forest, and
they once again trudge through dull brown foliage. "Let's follow
the green,” the mage says, walking back towards where it was
greener.

They walk for an hour. The sun has
nearly set and the nighttime light from the skyglyph is not strong
enough to penetrate the foliage. Strangely, though, the forest seems
to be growing a little brighter, and the leaves are gradually turning
fully green. They hear howls and unidentified noises in the far, far
distance behind them.

Hearing the howls behind him inspires
Votig to pause briefly to listen intently to everything around him.
While he is unable to hear what is making the noise in the forest, he
can just barely make out a noise coming from in front of him. Words
are drifting on the wind from the direction in which he and Oren are
traveling, and though he does not speak it, he can hear just barely
enough to guess that he's hearing Orcish.

"Quiet lad, there's orcs ahead,”
he whispers.

Votig and Oren begin to approach the
source of the noise cautiously. They tread slowly, avoiding fallen
branches and patches of gravel that would give away their position.
Gradually, as they move, the forest becomes brighter until it seems
like daytime has risen beneath the impenetrable green canopy above.
Finally, they reach what appears to be a clearing in the Bramble.

High bushes and foliage separate their
position from the clearing proper, and it is not until the pair
arrive just behind the plants that they are able to look past it and
see what lies beyond.

The clearing is perhaps fifty yards
across in all directions. Exactly at its center sits a breathtaking
fountain; a circle of stone surrounds it, and at its center gushes
what Oren believes to be pure, concentrated aether, looking silvery
and liquid. He has been told it is impossible for aether to be
visible or physical without being combined with an element or another
focus in order to create magic, and yet the feeling he gets from
seeing the fountain leaves him to believe there is no other
possibility.

It is so powerful a sight, so
unbelievable a discovery, that it almost stops Oren from noticing who
else is in the clearing. There are nine orcs. One wears ornate battle
armor; half of the others are armored in simple steel; the other half
seem to be carrying instruments of magic.

Oren grabs the dwarf's arm excitedly
and shakes it. “Kill them,” he whispers.

"Are ya mad, lad?! Unless we can
use that pond as a weapon, I don't think we be standin' a chance."

Eliam and Minerva part from Votig and
Oren, and guide their wagon into town. The town is small but
well-known as a vacation spot as it combines plains, forest, and a
river into a beautiful and tranquil place. As a result, it has some
common amenities. It has a luxurious inn, as well as a passable bar,
some small shops, and a tiny outdoor theatre for plays.

Minerva moves the wagon into town at a
slow pace. "What do you think we should attend to first, Eliam?"
she asks.

"I say we grab a pint at the inn,”
he answers.

"That sounds like a good place to
find some people to talk to," Minerva agrees. She guides the
wagon to the inn and ties the horses up outside. "Should we book
a couple of rooms?"

"Sure. Who knows when the others
will be back... and this town doesn't look half bad, either."

Minerva negotiates a fair price with
the innkeep and manages to get three rooms inexpensively. She claims
one for her own, saying she wants her privacy, and says Eliam can
sort out with the others who will get their own room and who will
have to share.

Once the pair are settled, she asks the
innkeep if there is any place in the inn to sit down for a pint. The
innkeep responds, "Your best bet for a drink would be the Glade
and Gully up the road, though if you're not up to walking out, we
have a small lounge here with a modest supply of drinks on hand."

Minerva shrugs and leaves the choice up
to Eliam. "A good offer, but we were hoping to socialize a bit,”
he answers. “The Glade and Gully it is"

Eliam and Minerva walk up the road to
the Glade and Gully. They find a wooden building with large windows
and a second-floor patio that overlooks large swathes of pristine
landscape. There are people milling about throughout the bar.

The barkeep is a pretty woman with
auburn hair and a low cut shirt. She grins a little and responds as
Eliam offers to buy her a drink, "Oh, you're a sweet one. I
can't drink while I'm working but maybe another time."

"Well... it was worth a shot.
Though the least you could do now you've turned me down is tell me
about yourself. You must see quite a few people; this place is
packed,” the bard says.

Minerva sits quietly next to him,
facing away and pretending they aren't together. She doesn't want to
interfere.

She glances at Minerva, and a puzzled
look crosses her face for just a moment. Her eyes narrow slightly and
she says, "Oh, we get all kinds. You get an absolute lyriad of
people in a place like this."

Minerva turns, and before she can stop
herself, she begins to say, "Did you say--"

"Why, yes," the barkeep
responds silkily. "We get a myriad of people in here, indeed."

Minerva eyes her suspiciously, unsure
of what to say next. She tries to exchange a glance with Eliam.

"Well, even if you can't drink
while you're on duty, maybe you'll give me another shot later. I'd
love to hear more about the town once you have some time,” Eliam
answers as he returns Minerva's glance. The barkeep looks momentarily
disappointed, but puts a smile on her face to say, "That would
be nice."

The barkeep leaves to get drinks from
the back, and Minerva begins whispering quickly, "Did you pick
up on that?"

"That was easier than I expected.
How did she recognize you?" he whispers back.

"I... I don't know," Minerva
responds. "It seems so unlikely. What if it's a slip of the
tongue and we expose ourselves for nothing?" As though to
punctuate her words, an orc officer walks past the bar, peeks in the
window, and walks on.

"Honestly I don't think she got my
hint to speak later. We don't have to be the first to give anything
away." The barkeep returns with a drink for each Eliam and
Minerva. "This one's on the house, cutie." Eliam's eyes
drift to the barkeep's neckline, whereupon he notices she is wearing
a green pendant.

He recognizes the pendant immediately.
Minerva has the same thoughts; this barkeep has the same activation
stone pendant that she, herself, possesses.

Minerva tries to get an unspoken answer
from him, wondering if she should reveal her own pendant to the
barkeep. "You could try flashing yours to make sure she gets the
hint" he whispers.

Minerva nods. Suppressing her nerves,
she draws out her own pendant and casually plays with it between her
fingers, making sure the barkeep notices it.

"My, my," replies the
barkeep. "Isn't it funny how a simple glance can result in such
a wellspring of information?" Minerva looks excitedly at Eliam
now. She tucks her pendant away and waits for her companion to speak.

"Indeed. So when will you be
available to chat?" he says.

The sun is setting. The barkeep glances
out the window. "We may not have the time today. You have much
to do and I still have a job to finish. Why, you see this bottle of
wine back here?" She gestures to a bottle of red. "She's
been here all month and I'm trying very hard to... sell 'er."

She then turns to one of the other
workers and shouts, "Hey, Mick, bring up a few more cases from
downstairs, would you?"

"Hmmm... well hopefully you'll
have sold it by tomorrow. Given the crowd, I'm sure you could even
sell it tonight by the end of the day. How much is the bottle going
for, anyways?"

Mick returns from downstairs with the
requested cases. The barkeep thanks him and looks meaningfully from
the cases, to the spot in Minerva's vest where the pendant is hidden,
back to the cases. Then she says slowly, "Oh, inexpensive for
the two of you. 3 copper... if you will let me... sell 'er."

"You look like you're struggling a
bit. We'd be happy to go down to the cellar and help you with the
lifting,” Eliam offers.

"Oh, would you? That would be ever
so helpful," she responds, looking incredibly relieved. "Feel
free to take a couple of glasses to enjoy your wine while you're down
there." Minerva looks puzzled but follows Eliam's lead. They
descend into the cellar, which is lined with shelves full of wine and
beer. Crates cover large parts of the ground.

"Do you see anything that looks
like a teleport glyph?” Eliam asks Minerva. “Like the one back in
Ushad."

Minerva frowns a little. "Those
are invisible until a stone activates them. Do you think one is down
here?"

"I'm almost certain." Eliam
notices a patch of floor with scratch marks. The marks roughly
correspond to the size of a crate sitting beside the scratched tiles.
He walks over to the crate. "Try using your pendant over here."

Minerva follows Eliam's directions and
nothing happens. She notices the scratch marks on the floor as well.
"Do you think there's a glyph beneath the crates?"

"Must be. They were hinting pretty
hard that there's a glyph down here.”

"I'm so glad you're part of this
group," Minerva smiles. "That would have taken me a lot
longer to figure out." She pushes the crate aside, and uses the
activation stone in her pendant. A shining glyph appears on the
floor.

Eliam laughs. "Now now... it was
nothing! Though you know, if you want to thank me we can always save
money and share an inn room."

Minerva laughs. "Down, boy. The
bed wouldn't fit us and the barkeep. Now, come along! Let's see where
this leads... remember," she says, "forty seconds."
She jumps onto the glyph, and disappears in a flash of green light.
Eliam quickly follows.

Ten feet from the wellspring, Minerva
appears in the middle of the clearing. She is immediately spotted by
the orcs, almost all of whom are at the clearing's edge on the far
side. One, however, is close to the wellspring when Minerva appears.
Before anyone can react, the orc has charged Minerva, whose first
sight upon materializing is an orc charging into her.

Minerva is picked up bodily by the orc,
who trips over his feet and carries her into the wellspring itself.
The orc screams in agony as the aether consumes him, and he
disappears. Minerva makes no sound at all, as though she feels
nothing, but she too, disappears all the same.

The eight remaining orcs on the far
side of the clearing are stunned and unmoving, trying to understand
what they just saw.

A second flash of green light follows,
and Eliam appears in nearly the same spot in the middle of the
clearing. The orcs notice him quickly.

One of the orcs, wielding a mace, is
the first to recognize Eliam as a threat and he charges forward
toward the center of the clearing. He does not yet attack. The bard
tries to dodge, running away from the orcs.

Votig sneaks around the perimeter of
the fight, attempting to set up a flank attack.

One of the mages hangs back a little;
he wants to let the orcs with melee weapons move in to engage more
before he starts picking a course of action. The other mage is
suffering none of that bullshit. He leaps forward and begins to run
down Eliam. He sprints and makes it as far as the wellspring in the
center of the clearing.

He travels no further when a brilliant
flash of red erupts through the forest, emanating from the
wellspring. When it ceases, Minerva floats down to the ground, riding
a wave of aether, her body surrounded by a red aura and her eyes
glowing crimson.

Minerva draws her daggers with blazing
speed, and she spins them in circles in her hands. Miraculously,
flames begin to fly from the blades of her weapons.

When she stops spinning her weapons, a
blade of flame extends from the edge of her daggers, adding a foot in
length to her reach. The mage who had charged near is taken
completely unawares, and before he can so much as respond, Minerva
sets upon him, her blazing daggers tearing through clothing and flesh
and leaving the foe slain on the dirt below.

The orcs, who had just barely begun to
move, have frozen completely in astonishment. Minerva sees Eliam and,
as the red aura dissipates and the flames disappear from her daggers,
she says, in a voice filled with wonder, "Eliam... Eliam, you
need to jump in there."

Oren hears her words and bolts from his
hiding place for the wellspring and leaps into the fountain; he
disappears immediately with a brilliant flash.

Concerned with the battle at hand,
Eliam instead continues to where Oren emerged from, hoping to find
Votig taking cover there. The dwarf continues his flank, however,
trying to find a good position.

One of the orc mages tries to throw an
arcane blast at Minerva, as she is the only person visible in range,
but his attack sails wide. The other orcs gather themselves and
appear like they're ready to begin attacking again. One charges at
Minerva in the center of the clearing.

As a second orc nears Minerva, the
wellspring emits a blinding blue flash, causing the clearing to fill
with light momentarily. When the light subsides, Oren glides to the
ground on a wave of aether, a blue aura surrounding his body, his
eyes glowing a piercing cerulean. The orcs, again, are shocked into
stillness.

Oren demonstrates his new powers by
immediately turning on his heel and whipping out a shadow dagger
aimed straight at the orc captain's chest. As it flies, the shard of
darkness gathers moisture from the air and begins to form a hydrolash
behind it. The dagger embeds itself in the captain's torso, and the
lash follows immediately afterward, whipping with a heavy snap of
incompressible water. The captain reels back a few yards from the
force of the impact.

Many of the orcs trip over themselves
trying to aid their captain as the blow looked grievously severe. The
captain manages to stutter out, "Not me, you idiots! Kill them!
Kill them and destroy that damned fountain! Send them all to the
Valley!"

Eliam dashes to the wellspring to
provide support and, from his close proximity to it, subconsciously
taps into its power; the arcane blast he emits is loaded with power
and as it travels, it seems to leave the air behind it temporarily
and strangely hollow. The orcs are unable to block it and it careens
forcefully into the captain, forcing him down to the ground. The orcs
are enraged at seeing their captain further wounded.

As Eliam watches the spell connect, he
feels a calling, a tugging, a pull. Something inside him is telling
him to approach the wellspring, though he does not move. Something
about it seems familiar. Something about it seems safe.

Votig leaps from the bushes, screaming
“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOIN' ON DAMN CRAZY MAGES" as he
charges the nearest orc. The orcs begin to freak out a little. So far
they've seen two random people disappear and reappear throwing
elemental magic around, one of their number vanish for good, another
die from a burning stab wound... Their morale is a little shaky.
Votig's assault goes unchallenged, and he drops a one-two punch combo
on one of the mages, who stays on his feet but looks woozy.

The mage tries to retaliate with an
arcane blast but fails utterly to connect, and his spell trails off
into the sky.

Minerva is next to the wellspring with
Oren and Eliam. She turns to Eliam and says, "Eliam. Eliam,
trust it, please. This is something you have to do." And she
runs off to engage the orcs with Votig.

"Eliam, don't do it, it's a bad
idea,” says Oren as he attacks with an arcane blast. The captain
takes yet another blow, and the force from Oren's attack breaks his
arm. It hangs limply at his side.

One of the orcs is ready to go on the
offensive, and Votig is nearest to him. He raises his mace and swings
it sideways at the nimble boxer.The
mace fails completely to connect as Votig sidesteps away. One of the
mages chants and channels a Shock Blast, targeting Votig, but his
concentration breaks from what he has seen today and the lightning
travels harmlessly into the air.

The orc captain manages to rouse
himself and raises an axe in his one good hand. He swings it at
Votig, but his assault is clumsy and unbalanced. Votig looks almost
bored as he avoids the attack effortlessly. A mage attempts a flame
blast at Votig, but he succeeds only in striking two of his own
allies for minimal damage.

The first orc charges toward the
wellspring, attempting to attack one of the three party members there
since the dwarf seems to be untouchable.

"DAMNABLE MAGIC" Votig
screams as he attacks the mages. Bloodied, the orc mage rolls
backwards and stumbles to his feet, spitting up blood. The mage
desperately tries to retaliate with an arcane blast but can't focus
enough to cast the spell.

Minerva unleashes a lethal blow on the
orc nearest her, her daggers flashing in the air. She sinks one deep
into the orc's shoulder and the other into his arm before darting
back in case he lashes out at her.

The second orc rages against Votig,
seeing him distracted from his all-out attack against the mage. The
orc, roaring, swings his battle axe accurately and manages to land a
blow across Votig's side.

Oren steps into the wellspring once
more, but does not disappear. He attempts to land an arcane blast on
the orc captain but being in the midst of the flowing aether
overwhelms his casting. The blast veers off-course and strikes
Minerva in the back. "Hey!" she cries out. "Watch it!"

The orc, having just been attacked by
Minerva, attempts to take advantage of her distraction by launching
an attack on her. He swings a club at her, which fails to connect.

One of the mages sees the assault
coming from the wellspring and decides to return fire. He prepares a
Shock Blast, and fails so completely that it fizzles from his hands
and strikes his own allies.

The orc captain sees his death nearly
at hand but refuses to go down quietly. "When I die," he
shouts at his troops, "tear down that wellspring!" The
captain turns and attempts one last assault on Votig. His attack is
frail and he limply fails to connect his blow.

One of the last mages, panicking,
attempts to unleash a flame blast upon a group of units in the melee
which includes some of his allies, Votig, and Minerva. The mage
manages to take advantage of the concentration of aether and, rather
than it diffusing his spell, it enhances it. Greatly. The flame blast
turns into a rolling wave of incineration that strikes two orcs,
Minerva, and Votig. The orc who had been attacked by Minerva falls in
a fiery pile of bone and cinders.

The first orc is holding his mace and
he's seen Oren jump into the wellspring with no ill effects. Furious
that this puny caster is just hiding in there, slinging spells and
poking, the orc clutches his weapon, throws caution to the wind, and
runs into the wellspring to attack him. The moment he enters the
wellspring, his body disintegrates and his howl of pain and rage dies
in the air.

The wellspring beckons to Eliam; a
feeling, an urge, calls him to enter. He attempts an arcane blast,
but the arcane blast sails wide, damaging nothing.

Votig feels the wellspring calling.
Votig dashes in with a flurry of punches, and the weight of his blows
overwhelms the mage before him. The orc mage dies, and lands with a
mundane thud to the earth below.

Minerva, seeing the mage fall, turns on
the surviving mage and whirls her daggers. The flames reignite along
her weapon, and she slashes out at him with the blazing edges. The
mage grunts in pain and smoking trails remain behind on his robes.

The orc carrying the battle axe tries
to push forward against Votig. His attack falters, and the dwarf
suffers no damage.

Infused by raw power from the
wellspring, Oren's attack magnifies in power and splits in mid-air to
strike both mages. One of the mages kneels, but survives; the other
looks wounded but is strong enough to continue. The first mage tries
to retaliate with a shock blast but it fails to even materialize.

The orc captain staggers to his feet
and seeks an assault directly on Votig. He seizes the initiative to
launch his assault on the fighter. Brandishing his axe in his one
good hand, he launches a mighty blow that shakes the dwarf's bones as
it lands. One of the mages attempts to follow up with a flame Blast
at Votig but it fails to hit.

The orc captain presses his initiative
again and launches a second assault on Votig. This time, he fails to
hit Votig as well.

The wellspring calls to Eliam. Eliam
runs up, prepared to heal Votig. He fires an arcane blast in the
meantime.The orc captain
collapses to the ground. He trembles, moans, and tries to move, but
his body finally can give no more. He dies pitifully. Votig attacks
the orc carrying the axe. The orc collapses, bloodied and beaten, but
rises one last time, hoping stubbornly for a final opportunity to
attack.

Minerva launches an attack on an orc
mage and spills blood as her daggers flash against the orc's flesh.
The orc with a battle axe attempts to lash out at Votig but fails
again.

Oren sends an arcane blast at one of
the last mages. His spell slams into the mage's chest with massive
concussive force. He falls and is still. He moves no more.

The last remaining mage is devastated
and terrified. His mind is racing with fear at what has been
happening and that moment allows him to access the aether around him
in ways he had never previously been able to do. He prepares a shock
blast and launches it as a lethal spell at Oren.The lightning arcs through the air and rips through him,
magnifying by bouncing around the pool of aether in which he is
standing.

Eliam sends an arcane blast at the last
orc mage. The mage freezes the moment the spell hits his body, as
though astonished from what has transpired. He drops to his knees,
collapses to the dirt, and dies.

Votig summons his reserves of strength
and unleashes every combination of punches he knows faster than the
eye can see. Finally, the last orc falls. Finally, the clearing is
quiet.

### **The Group Examines the Wellspring**

The wellspring sits silently in the
center of the space. Votig and Eliam feel its pull.

Ignoring it for now, Votig searches the
dead captain's body. “Just blasted money, nothing important,"
he grumbles.

"I mean, I'll take it if you don't
want it," Eliam replies.

Minerva has moved to stand beside the
wellspring. She is kneeling beside it and running her fingers through
the aether. "This is impossible. Isn't it? I don't understand
anything that's happening."

Votig splits the money between the
party members as Oren sits down in and splashes around the aether in
the wellspring. Minerva turns as he hands her the coins. She thanks
him, then says, "Votig... Votig, I saw you."

"Eh? Of course ye did. I'm right
here, lass."

"When I was... wherever I was,
when I was in the wellspring. I saw your face. And Eliam's, and
Oren's. And... And a woman's I've never seen before."

As she speaks, Oren cups the aether
water in his hands and lets it drip down, over and over. Minerva
looks at Votig with absolute conviction. "Votig, you need to
step into the wellspring. I feel it."

"No, no,” Oren responds. "You
shouldn't do that."

"You, um... you guys are acting a
bit strangely,” Eliam says.

"I think I'm fine right here,
lass,” Votig says, uncomfortable with everyone's obsession over the
wellspring. He feels the urge to step in. He feels like he's being
tempted by something that he objectively knows he doesn't want to do,
but still feels like he should anyway.

"Eliam?" Minerva says.
"Eliam, I saw you, as well. I know how crazy it sounds, but ...
don't you feel it? Reaching out to you?"

"Er... well, the dwarf has had
good survival instincts so far,” the bard responds. “I mean, you
both seemed to have survived I guess but... what exactly did it do to
you?"

Oren begins to drink the aether in the
wellspring.It tastes warm, and
cool. It tastes sweet, and salty, and bitter, and savory. It tastes
smooth, and textured. It tastes like every memory of every favorite
meal he's ever had, and it tastes like his memories of every meal
he's not yet eaten.

Minerva struggles to answer Eliam's
question. "I don't know. I just... feel different. Stronger.
More in tune with the world, if that makes sense. And that flame,
that fire that came from my daggers... I just felt like I could
control it?" As she speaks, Oren fills the vials from Linea with
aether.

"I think we've lost em lad,”
Votig says to Eliam. “Time to leave."

Minerva moves to take Eliam's hand. She
says, "Eliam, there is a gift for you in the wellspring. I
promise."

Eliam chooses to follow Votig away from
the wellspring. Minerva looks incredibly disappointed. But she
respects his choices and she stands up to follow them. She beckons to
Oren and waits to see if he follows. "Oren! We're leaving now,”
she calls to him.

"Oren... you said not to enter the
fountain, right? Are you sure you should be uh... doing that? All of
that?” Eliam asks as the mage stays behind.

"What?"

"You know... touching it and
drinking it. And uh, saving it, I guess."

"Yes," says Oren as he
continues to collect the aether.

"Are... are you going to come back
to town with us?" asks Minerva.

They wait for a response, but none
comes. The group goes to leave the clearing as Oren stays behind.

As they go to follow Minerva, they both
stop. Something hazy seems to be in front of them, bisecting the
foliage in front of them like a wall. Minerva notices nothing. "Why'd
you stop?"

Oren hops out of the well, sits on the
side, and starts combing through the water. His expression suddenly
turns to one of panic.

"What magic is this, now?"
Votig looks annoyed at the wall before them. In the distance, Oren is
muttering “no no no no,” as he combs through the aether.

"Magic?" answers Minerva.
"What magic?" She steps back through the foliage and
through whatever the haze is. "It's just plants, Votig. I know
there aren't many up on the mountains, but..."

"You really don't see that weird
haze?" Eliam asks, picking up and throwing a rock to test the
barrier.

Minerva looks closely. "Huh. I
guess I do. I hadn't noticed that. Must just be some weird fog or
something? Oh, well. Shall we?" she asks, stepping back through
the foliage and past the haze.

Oren flops over by the wellspring.
Votig returns to the well and kneels down next to him. "Oren? Ye
alright?"

"No,” he whispers. "I um...
I thought it was good in there but then I remembered other stuff?"

“Other stuff? Like what, lad?"

"I gotta go places, but now I
don't know if I need to anymore, and I dropped something and it's
gone," Oren says quietly, teary-eyed.

Eliam and Minerva return to the
wellspring as they speak.

"Gone? Was it important?"
Votig asks.

"Yes."

"What was it?" asks Minerva.

Oren sits up, looking Votig dead in the
eye. “The most important thing ever."

Votig turns to look at Minerva. "Ye
been in that thing. Is it possible to get back?

Oren begins wringing out his clothes,
before realizing the aether has left no water behind. He grabs the
vials of aether and makes sure they're secure.

Minerva furrows her brow. "I... I
don't even know how I got back. Linea told me that aether would...
just destroy anything it touches. Just vanish it? Disintegrate it.
Anything that's alive anyway. I don't know how to get anything back.
If something goes in, I think it's just... gone."

Oren hands the vials of aether to
Eliam. “You need these. I don't.”

He takes them awkwardly, and looks at
Oren. “If this thing is honestly so important, I can just jump in
and see what I can find. I mean, hell, you both lived, right?"

Minerva perks up and looks excited.

"Wait,” says Oren. "Don't
bring your stuff in there. Leave your bow out here."

"Okay... so what should I be
keeping an eye out for in there?"

"When I was in, I saw faces,"
says Minerva. "Tell me what you see when you jump in... oh, you
meant what Oren lost, I'm sorry."

"Think about what ye doin’
Eliam," Votig says.

"Look at the state he's in, Votig.
I don't think we're leaving here that easily, and we can't just
abandon him,” Eliam says.

"Um... it's a black dried-up lotus
flower,” Oren answers him. "If you jump in you'll get
stronger.”

Eliam drops his bow to the side of the
well and steps in.

Minerva looks genuinely ashamed for a
moment when Oren looks at her, then pleased when Eliam steps in.
There is a flash of light, and Eliam has vanished. A quiet falls over
the clearing as Eliam disappears. Everyone waits uneasily.

About a minute later, Eliam reappears,
floating down on aether, and lands softly on the ground. Eliam is
surrounded with a grey aura, and his eyes glow the color of steel
momentarily. Minerva looks around. "Um... I'm glad you're back,
Eliam. But, uh..." She shakes her head. "Sorry, first. Did
you find Oren's flower?"

"No... I'm sorry. It's hard to
explain but it didn't seem... physical, somehow? I only saw visions,"
he answers.

She frowns. "Did you see our
faces? And a woman?"

"Yeah, that's all. No idea who the
woman was."

"Damn," Minerva spits. "I
was hoping..."

Oren looks through the pouch on his
neck chain to see if there's anything left inside. There are bits and
pieces of black lotus petals. Not much, but some.

"So," Minerva says, "we
have one other thing to think about." She points in the
direction of the haze. "I think it's moving." The haze has
moved five yards closer to the wellspring.

"This day just keeps gettin'
worse,” Votig grumbles.

Oren attempts an arcane blast at the
barrier, and he puts all of his strength and sadness at losing the
lotus into his attack. The lotus was his arcane device, however, and
so his magic is channeled through the remaining bits of leaves left
in his pouch.

The blast looks scattered and frail,
like the spell is transparent or, somehow, hollow. It connects with
the haze and when it does, the haze shimmers. It is then they notice
that the haze is not just in that one direction, but on all sides and
above. It appears as a dome, with the wellspring at its center. The
haze moves in closer still.

Oren flops back down as his spell is
unsuccessful, pulling his hood over his eyes.

Minerva runs up to the haze and taps
it; her hand passes right through. "Are... are we worried about
this? It's weird but it's not a problem." She walks through the
haze back and forth a few times. Oren and Eliam join her and step
through the haze. Votig walks into the haze face first. It is solid
to him.

### **Votig Waters some Plants**

Oren turns back to Votig. "Just
jump in the stupid well, it's not going to let you go unless you do."
He gets up and continues walking forward as the haze slowly closes
further toward the wellspring.

Votig picks up the fallen orc's
battle-axe and starts whacking at the wellspring, avoiding the
disintegrating water and hoping to diffuse its power.

As he picks up the axe, and before
Votig swings, Minerva shouts, "Votig... Votig you remember what
Linea said! We're here to protect that!"

“Shut it, witch!” Votig yells. “I
won't let this thing curse me too! Look at what it did to Oren, lass.
You think this thing is good?!"

At the moment Votig goes to swing, the
haze dome immediately contracts fully. It pushes Votig forward and
before he can destroy the outer edge, he is pushed into the aether,
and vanishes. Minerva smiles. Something about this feels right to
her.

As seen with the others, Votig
reappears a moment later. His body is surrounded by a yellow aura,
and his eyes glow with a golden light as he descends to the ground.

Votig lands on the ground, and, glowing
golden, spins and wails on the stone of the wellspring with massive
punches. He finishes with a Tremorpunch at the wellspring's base, and
great cracks begin to rise up its edges. The aether sloshes angrily
as pure Earthen magic runs through it. The combination of Votig's
might, his newfound Earthen power, and the aether in the spring
causes the wellspring to shatter to pieces; the aether seeps into the
ground, but it mingles with his Earth magic and causes plant life to
spontaneously spawn around the clearing.

Whether it is the leaves of the trees
above that had fallen into the pool over ages past that is being
regrown, or fully new life, no one can tell. All anyone knows is that
the wellspring is destroyed, and there, in its rubble and its debris,
grow vines, weeds, seedlings, and a solitary black lotus, nestled
amongst the destruction.

**Chapter 3**