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Journal of the Souls of Legend (completed)
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<blockquote data-quote="Nthal" data-source="post: 8101929" data-attributes="member: 6971069"><p style="text-align: center"><strong>Prison break - 10/5/2020</strong></p> <p style="text-align: center"></p> <p style="text-align: center"><em>Would it surprise you that I’ve been in prison? Well, not as a criminal, but I did some work there. The Mercykillers would hire young Gatehouse orphans to crawl and clean up places where the guards couldn’t get to. It wasn’t as mind numbingly boring as scrubbing rust from manacles, but it was a dirty job, and it was the best paying job that a kid under nine could get.</em></p> <p style="text-align: center"><em></em></p> <p style="text-align: center"><em>But as you worked and cleaned you had a view of the punishments and labor the prisoners faced. And honest truth, from what I saw, death was a blessing, compared to what those berks went through.</em></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>I knew the pain I was going to face; I had felt it all before in the ‘Tenth Pit.’ But as the flames started to lick around me, I realized something else was happening. My skin didn’t boil and flake away with the sudden burst of fire. What I felt was the opposite.</p><p></p><p>I felt cold.</p><p></p><p>As I watched, I could myself suddenly covered in a layer clear cold crystal. It covered my limbs and then expanded around me. In an instant, I found myself surrounded in the cold substance. I couldn’t move at all, my limbs where locked in place, trying to shield myself from the fire. My mouth and lips were surrounded by the icy substance, my scream stifled, my breathing stilled. I could no longer look around as my eyes were now locked on an empty scorch mark on the floor of the passageway. Everything looked like I was gazing through cut crystal, with rainbow like refractions everywhere that I could see with my frozen eyes.</p><p></p><p>I was afraid. The cold wasn’t numbing at all. It was a new pain I had never experienced before. As sharp as any knife, as pervasive as any flame could be, penetrating me to the core. So cold that I felt that even my heart would stop beating.</p><p></p><p>The flames surrounded me, their warmth a distant memory. In a matter of moments, it was over. The light of the fire disappeared, yet the cold crystals remained. Somewhere in front of me I saw several figures running towards my direction. But despite the cold, and despite the pain, all I felt was anger. I strained against my prison, wanting to burst free so I could do something against the murderous Duergar. </p><p></p><p>As I tried to flex every muscle I had, I first felt and then saw fissures form. First, they were thin and spidery, and in moments, they spread everywhere like a broken mirror. Final my arms moved, and then I suddenly stumbled forward as the blocks of cold crystal fell away from my body.</p><p></p><p>Foggle flew over my head and sprayed the dwarves with more blue-white lightning, before flying back around the corner. Four dwarves ran towards me, when in red hot anger, I bound a pair white and dark strands, and pulled them taut until they snapped. </p><p></p><p>I watched the dwarves fall to the ground as their bones cracked within themselves. They made soft gurgling sounds as life left their bodies from my onslaught. Even the crates near me were not spared, as they blew apart spraying flinders and splinters everywhere.</p><p></p><p>“What was <strong><em>that?</em>” </strong>I heard Beepu exclaim.</p><p></p><p>I didn’t know how to answer. The crystals I was surrounded in, were turning into a liquid rapidly. I knelt down and picked up a remaining shard of crystal and held it. Its cold was rapidly dissipating, and it was shrinking as it turned into a liquid, but I brought the shard to my mouth and cautiously tasted it. But it had no taste at all just like…</p><p></p><p>“Water?” I said dumbfounded.</p><p></p><p>“Ice! Ice you silly girl!” Beepu admonished. “We do not have time. We should move and find Iesa and Daneath.”</p><p></p><p>I nodded and paused only a moment to look at the ash streak on the floor. I puffed out my chest, exhaled, and followed Beepu deeper within.</p><p></p><p>The room we came to was indeed a barracks, bunks in tiers of three were arranged in this rectangular room, along with a table and some stools. But while I saw no dwarves, I could hear them shouting along with the sounds of steel on steel, coming from a passageway to my right.</p><p></p><p>Beepu and I didn’t say anything, and just ran. The passage was short, only a couple of paces. But when I exited it, I blinked in surprise at what I saw.</p><p></p><p>Daneath had his shield overhead, using it to block a downward stroke of a battleaxe. The axe was wielded by a ‘dwarf’ that was easily a foot taller than Daneath. As he blocked the blow, he quickly reposted and used his shield to block another blow from a second dwarf’s axe, this one of equal size to the first. Iesa was nearby fending off another pair of huge dwarves, neither having any luck in landing a blow on the agile rogue.</p><p></p><p>Not waiting, I pull on dark strands, and summoned a miasma around Daneath’s foes. The darkness swirled around them, causing them to bellow in surprise, and one falling to his knees. As he did and fell forward, he shrunk until he was the size of a typical dwarf.</p><p></p><p>Beepu in the meantime, flung a bolt of fire, into Daneath’s second foe. While the blast wasn’t enough to fell him, the distraction was enough to allow Daneath to quickly thrust his sword into the dwarf’s belly. It groaned, and fell to the floor, also quickly shrinking in size. With his opponents down, he ran over to help his brother.</p><p></p><p>Iesa sported a nasty cut from an axe on his arm, and blood flowed freely down it, having none of the armor his brother wore. But as Daneath moved behind one of the ‘giant’ dwarves it was enough to cause the dwarf to shift and prepare himself for his new foe.</p><p></p><p>And that was all Iesa needed, to spin and sink his dagger deep in the Duergar’s flank. The dwarf wheezed and spat up a great gout of blood, before falling to the ground, shrinking back to his normal size.</p><p></p><p>The last dwarf glared at Iesa and shouted some type of insult involving comparing his elbow to some type of animal. Or at least that’s what it sounded like, as my knowledge of dwarven slurs was limited. The dwarf swung, and his axe found its mark, slamming into Iesa’s side, the blade tearing away the leather and spraying blood across the nearby wall.</p><p></p><p>Iesa grunted and stumbled backwards and the Dwarf moved in closer to deliver a final blow when I intervened, pulling on threads and throwing a pair of bolts of purple energy at the dwarf. They both struck him, causing him to stumble to his knees, where Daneath brought down his sword, crushing the cuirass and causing the now shrinking dwarf to groan out his last breath.</p><p></p><p>“Well…that worked we all survived,” Iesa said smiling, clutching his side.</p><p></p><p>I shook my head and wiped the sudden tears that were forming in my eyes as I pulled on a light strand to staunch Iesa’s bleeding. Iesa looked at me puzzled when Beepu spoke for me.</p><p></p><p>“Gossamer did not survive; the dwarves had a sorcerer with them, and he…almost killed Myrai with a large blast of flames,” Beepu said somberly.</p><p></p><p>“She looks fine,” Daneath said confused. “Not a mark on her.”</p><p></p><p>“I am not sure I can explain that,” Beepu looked at me perplexed. “One moment she was there about to be roasted, and the next she was surrounded in rapidly melting ice.”</p><p></p><p>“Ice? You mean like icicles in Waterdeep.” Iesa said looking at me.</p><p></p><p>“I’d never seen ice…I’ve heard of it,” I said quietly. “But was just thinking how to…protect…myself.”</p><p></p><p>I then suddenly remembered a conversation I had with the strange magical construct I found myself in, while at the fortress of the Prophesized One. Where there was a sudden infusion of something into my person:</p><p></p><p><em>“Assimilation of loci complete. Configuration of loci allocated to protection, based on metal state of element Myrai.”</em></p><p></p><p>“Protection,” I said understanding what the construct meant.</p><p></p><p>“Myr?” Daneath asked looking at me concerned.</p><p></p><p>“Nevermind,” I said. “We need to find somewhere safe or keep moving at least.”</p><p></p><p>“Can you bury the bodies like you do normally?” Daneath asked.</p><p></p><p>I looked around at the room and shook my head, “Its all stone. I need dirt to hide them like that. And while I should give rites…we can’t right now.”</p><p></p><p>“Well then, Iesa can you open the door?” Beepu asked. “I can send Foggle through and scout ahead. Probably for the last time too where he can’t be seen.</p><p></p><p>Iesa nodded and moved to the door. He quickly took a small pair of pliers and put them into the lock and quickly removed a small bar, which he pocketed. He then gripped the handle to the door and pulled it open.</p><p></p><p>Beepu poked his head beyond the door, looking back and forth, and sent Foggle through. Iesa pushed the door to near closure and we waited and listened to Beepu mutter.</p><p></p><p>“Let us see. Opens into a cavern, less worked stone here. Several shafts leading down…likely mines. I see another area of worked stone…a forge based on the fire and tools. Unoccupied. Several dwarves patrolling in pairs. There is another passage…looks like…cells for prisoners. A bigger passage leads…And he’s out of range now.” Beepu said shaking his head.</p><p></p><p>“Bigger passage?” Daneath asked.</p><p></p><p>Beepu nodded, “I could just get the image of a tower. Probably leads deeper into the Underdark. And it was large too. Several floors.”</p><p></p><p>“How are we going to clear that?” Iesa asked.</p><p></p><p>“Clear it?” I said looking at him confused. “Why would we need to?”</p><p></p><p>“Isn’t that what the drow want?” Iesa said puzzled.</p><p></p><p>“I bet they do. I think <em>we</em> want a Genasi.” I pointed out.</p><p></p><p>“Myr’s right,” Beepu said excitedly. “We find him, and if he knows where the last part is, we can just…use the device and leave here.”</p><p></p><p>“And if he doesn’t have it?” Daneath said concerned.</p><p></p><p>“Then, we decide if we need to clear out the Duergar,” I said.</p><p></p><p>“So where to? The cells or the shafts?” Iesa asked.</p><p></p><p>“Cells, should be easy to get to.” Beepu said before straightening up. “Ah…he’s back. Wait…yes. Oh...oh…that is not good.”</p><p></p><p>“What isn’t good?” I asked warily.</p><p></p><p>“It was not just a tower. It is a much larger garrison.”</p><p></p><p>“How large are we talking?” Daneath pressed.</p><p></p><p>“Large enough that we cannot possibly take them on in a straight fight.” Beepu said in a resigned tone.</p><p></p><p>“Let’s not do that. Cells then, quickly.”</p><p></p><p>We stood there and nodded, and Iesa pulled open the door. We followed his lead and put our back to the wall and stayed in the shadows as best we could.</p><p></p><p>The cavern we found ourselves in wasn’t a natural one. It appeared to be a pit with multiple levels with us on a top tier, and the cavern was vaulted above us. On one side was an opening with large iron doors still wide open. Withing the glow of a hot forge emanated a warm orange light, casting shadows off of anvils and benches. Following the lip of the pit around, another passageway pierced the cavern wall, and from here I could barely make outdoors lining the walls. </p><p></p><p>Directly across was a large opening, that continued downwards. From our vantage point I saw what Beepu was talking about; the upper floors of a tower were visible in the distance, framed in sconces on the top corners of the battlements. It was a very large structure I could tell, based on how small the torches were in comparison.</p><p></p><p>“Where are the patrols?” I whispered to Beepu.</p><p></p><p>“Down in the pit; that is where the shafts are.” He replied quietly.</p><p></p><p>Nodding to myself, we continued circling the pits edge, trying not to get too close, lest we be seen by a sharp-eyed dwarf. We passed by the forge and gave it only the most cursory glance to check that it was unoccupied and made our way to the tunnel with the doors.</p><p></p><p>The passage was four paces wide, and iron doors with iron bars at eye level, stretched the length. Iesa walked to one on the left side and peeked inside quickly, he pulled himself back and frowned. He pointed at me and then the door. I started to shake my head, when he then pointed to his own eyes and the waved his hand in front of himself.</p><p></p><p>I sighed and took the lead. Moving to the door, I quickly smelled what was the odor of an outhouse. Grimacing, I stood on my toes and looked inside, only to find it was unoccupied. Frowning I moved down to the next one, and found it was also unoccupied beyond the fumes. I kept moving down the line, finding more odorous empty cells. It was like this for ten doors, and I reached the end of the hall. Sighing, I walked across the hallway to look inside and almost squealed in surprise.</p><p></p><p>There in the cell, lay a human male, dressed in rags asleep on the stone. He was covered in dirt, dust and probably a bit of his own filth. He was however either asleep or passed out unconscious. I thought a moment and realized that the cells on the left must already be mining below, while this side would be roused and sent down into the pits later on.</p><p></p><p>Frowning, I moved to the next cell, and found another human male, and continued onto the next one which held a dwarf like figure. The conditions of each of them was wretched, but the sad truth was that we couldn’t really do anything for them right then. I could only hope that we could later. </p><p></p><p>I then looked into the next cell, and saw it was empty and quickly moved on, looking into the next one. It was another human male, although much older than the rest with grey hair and sagging skin. I was about to move on when I stopped. Squinting I looked more carefully and then I started to smile.</p><p></p><p>As I watched, I saw that his hair moved on its own accord, drifting and waving on a missing breeze. He wore a simple leather tunic that had clearly seen better days. Around his ankles and wrists were fetters, with chains between them. But around his neck was something like a thick clay circlet. I could hear him groan in his sleep quietly as I stared getting more excited.</p><p></p><p>I then turned to Iesa and nodded, pointing to the door excitedly. He wasted no time pulling out his tools. He then bent down and started to work at the lock as quietly as he could, and as quickly as he dared. It wasn’t long before we heard the creaking of the bolt slide out of the door jamb. Backing away, Daneath pulled on the ring and he slowly and carefully, pulled the door open, and I quickly stepped inside.</p><p></p><p>I knelt down next to the Genasi; he was indeed old; his face well lined. His sagging skin hid that his body was in good shape, if a bit underfed. I leaned down close and with my left hand I gently roused him, while I covered his mouth with my right.</p><p></p><p>His eyes flew open as he tensed up, like he expected violence or punishment. His eyes scanned the darkness, unable to see me.</p><p></p><p>“Whmm? Hmm?” and I shushed him and uncovered his mount to let him speak. “Wha…wha…no…who?” he stammered; his voice raspy as if speaking was an effort.</p><p></p><p>“What is your name?” I asked softly.</p><p></p><p>“A…a…woman?” he said surprised. “I haven’t heard a…nevermind. I am…called Eri…Eridan.”</p><p></p><p>“Eridan,” I said. “Eridan bin Ahoone?”</p><p></p><p>His eyes darted around frantically, trying seek me out in the darkness, “You…you know me?”</p><p></p><p>“We’ve been looking for you,” I said, and I flexed, feeling the rush along my back, and creating a small dim light in the palm of my hand, letting it shine on both of our faces.</p><p></p><p>The light touched his eyes, and he winced momentarily, and then he looked at me. He stared like he was a man dying of thirst, drinking in my features. As I watched, I could see tears stream down his face as he looked me up and down, until finally his eyes saw the medallion on my chest; the scales held aloft by a skeletal arm. At that point he gave a contented sigh.</p><p></p><p>“Finally, it is time. Finally, you have come to me,” he said still tearing up.</p><p></p><p>“Yes,” I said smiling. “Pachook’s son, Umbra’s sons…they are here.”</p><p></p><p>“No…not them. You Myrai…” he said, and my jaw dropped open. “I’ve been waiting for you.”</p><p></p><p>I was blinking in confusion at Eridan’s words. “Wait…What? How did you know my name?”</p><p></p><p>He smiled as he reached up to touch my face, as I stared at him unsure, what to think or feel. </p><p></p><p>“I was told that you would come. That you would bring the sons to me. I feared that it might not happen. But my faith has been rewarded,” he said smiling still touching my hair as I looked him uncomprehendingly. Finally, I shook my head to clear it.</p><p></p><p>“I don’t…. wait….do you have the final piece to Pachooks’ device?”</p><p></p><p>He kept smiling and nodded. “Yes…Pachook’s part is still with me, and with it Umbra’s plan can come to fruition,” he said as he touched the clay ring encircling his neck.</p><p></p><p>I touched the rough surface thinking a moment, “I thought it was copper clad—”</p><p></p><p>“—Adamantite? Yes, it is…but I covered it in clay to disguise it. If the Duergar were any wiser, they might have taken it,” he said.</p><p></p><p>I nodded, and then looked at him seriously, “Can you walk? We should go somewhere…anywhere else.”</p><p></p><p>“Yes…yes of course, we can talk elsewhere.” Eridan agreed, and I stood and assisted him to his feet.</p><p></p><p>“Iesa, can you unlock these chains?” I whispered, and he came over and after a single glance he shook his head. “They aren’t locked, they’re riveted shut. I’d need serious tools to undo those.” </p><p></p><p>“Pay it no mind, I can carry the lengths, just go slow. I am not as spry as I once was,” and he stooped over and gathered the chains from around his legs, and we exited the cell.</p><p></p><p>“Where now?” Daneath asked.</p><p></p><p>“Back where we came from, and jam the door,” Iesa recommended.</p><p></p><p>We moved around the pit ledge cautiously, with Beepu in front, and the brothers behind him, while I helped Eridan to move keeping his chains silent. trying not to attract attention. But as we made our way past the smithy, suddenly Beepu started backing up.</p><p></p><p>“Patrol!” he said under his breath, and we turned and ducked into the nearby forge. The first thing I noticed was the heat; the furnace was beyond hot in the smithy. Warm red orange light poured from the opening of the forge, giving the smithy an infernal glow. Four anvils were scattered nearby, and the room contained a scattering of incomplete weapons on the racks, as well as more mundane objects from flat iron plates, to rivets and pull rings. At one end was an open door that led into a workshop and we quickly moved into it, so we could hide.</p><p></p><p>Inside it was rectangular in shape, with numerous benches and tools. Near the door, stood a large well with a bucket on the edge. Several oil lamps were hung from wires, unlit over the workbenches. The tools here were for smaller, finer work, compared to the large hammers outside.</p><p></p><p>Iesa pushed the door shut, and as he did so, Beepu and I focused and lit a pair of lamps giving the area some light.</p><p></p><p>“Let’s get these off of you,” and Daneath started to rummage through the tools while Eridan pulled himself onto a bench and sat expectantly, smiling. </p><p></p><p>As he sat there, Beepu stared at the Genasi. After a while he nodded to himself and then spoke. “I remember you now, you were pretending to be a messenger with my offer from Candlekeep for training,”</p><p></p><p>“Well, that’s not quite true…I <strong><em>was</em></strong> a messenger. Your father had already paid for your entrance with several volumes on artifice he had written, and I simply took the opportunity to deliver its confirmation back to him. The fact I was doing ‘deliveries’ for the Harpers was part of my wanderings.”</p><p></p><p>“Well I’m glad you remember him, I don’t,” Daneath said as he picked up a set of tongs, and an iron rod handing it to Iesa.</p><p></p><p>“I would be surprised if you had; I kept my distance, while you were at the church; the sisters there could keep an eye on you better than I.”</p><p></p><p>“You were an orphan at a church?” Iesa asked his brother. “Lucky. You never mentioned it.”</p><p></p><p>Daneath started to pull with the tongs on the rivet fastening one of the fetters closed, while Iesa used the rod and a hammer to push. “Well the Church of Tyr was…harsh, and the Sisters seemed awfully meanspirited. Made it when I trained under Umbra feel less like toil, and more fun.”</p><p></p><p>“Didn’t you say our father was a harsh taskmaster?” Iesa questioned.</p><p></p><p>“He was. But nothing compared to Sister Cemina, her thrashings are the stuff of nightmares.” Daneath replied, pulling the first pin away.</p><p></p><p>“Well I don’t remember him either,” Iesa said, shifting the bar to the next set of fetters.</p><p></p><p>“That’s only because I lost you,” Eridan replied defensively.</p><p></p><p>“Lost me? How was that possible?” Iesa asked looking at Eridan disbelievingly.</p><p></p><p>“Well, Umbra had set up your mother in a home in Baldur’s Gate, she had coin and enough to live well,” Iesa’s jaw dropped in surprise.</p><p></p><p>“But the gods were not kind. When you were newly born, one of the Sea Dukes, essentially robbed your mother because he wanted her property, and she was forced to flee the city. She had no way to contact Umbra to ask for help. By the time Umbra did find out what had happened, she was long gone. She managed to somehow get to Waterdeep, and I am still uncertain how she did.”</p><p></p><p>Iesa frowned, “I don’t remember that at all.”</p><p></p><p>“Well it certainly angered Umbra, and he made sure the Duke paid for what he had done. And he asked me to look for you. And finding you was my primary reason for wandering. So many false hopes...but found you I did, albeit too late to be of real help to her, or you. I’m sorry about that.”</p><p></p><p>The second fetter sprang loose, and the brothers started on the manacles. “Well, its’ not your fault,” Iesa said, placing the rod against the bottom of the rivet.</p><p></p><p>“No, and Umbra, probably rightfully, blamed himself. But I was so happy when your little pal…hello there,” and Eridan waved at Mo, who had poked his head out of curiosity at the Genasi, “Took the map, and you actually followed it.”</p><p></p><p>“You could have just told me you know,” Iesa pointed out.</p><p></p><p>“I considered it, but…oh well,” Eridan shrugged.</p><p></p><p>“Alright, so how do I fit into this?” I asked, crossing my arms in annoyance. “I understand the machinations with Iesa, and Daneath and Beepu. But you…knew I was coming? How? <strong><em>I</em></strong> didn’t even know I was coming.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, that’s a strange story in itself. When Umbra told me about the Kershak, and the essence of his plan, I was concerned. What he described was offensive to Kelemvor’s teachings. And so, I prayed for many things; Umbra’s success, the survival of the three, me keeping the parts safe. But one night, months ago I received a vision. In that vision I saw an angel, clad in grey and silver, and he…informed me that my prayers had been heard, and that a hand named ‘Myrai’ was sent, and they would bring us all together eventually.”</p><p></p><p>I stood there blinking and shaking my head in disbelief, as he continued.</p><p></p><p>“Now, there was nothing I could do directly, but I did tell the Harpers about what I had heard. I wondered how I could help, but no one I knew heard of a person going by your name, much less a woman. All I could do was have faith. And it seems my faith has been rewarded.”</p><p></p><p>The manacle popped open, and the brothers set to work on the last one, “So, what? Myr is an agent of the gods?” Iesa asked as I still was considering the implications.</p><p></p><p>“What would you call it then?” Eridan asked. </p><p></p><p>“Luck?” Daneath responded. “Or good fortune perhaps. But divine intervention?” and Daneath looked at me awkwardly, clearly unsure what to believe.</p><p></p><p>“I don’t feel…that divine,” I said feeling awkward with this conversation. “I mean, getting maneuvered to a bar, that happens to hip me in Triboar…that’s just coincidence.”</p><p></p><p>“Perhaps it is,” Eridan responded nodding. “But then, how did I know your name?”</p><p></p><p>I didn’t know how to answer that, let alone feel. Was I in control of my destiny or not? Was I a slave to fate, and unable to make a real choice? Was it because I was devout in my beliefs, or was that secondary to an…angel’s…?</p><p></p><p>“Eridan, you said it was an angel that told you, right?” I began. “Do you remember anything about them? Anything at all?”</p><p></p><p>“About the angel? Well…um…well. A tall, perfect angelic man, and he had golden hair, and eyes like yours come to think of it—”</p><p></p><p>“Ten gold says she’s about to lose it,” Iesa said looking at Daneath.</p><p></p><p>“Sucker bet,” Daneath replied.</p><p></p><p>I know now how I should have looked at this. I should have felt honored to be given an important task of my faith. I should have been inspired that I was sent to someone that needed my help. That I was the right person to help.</p><p></p><p>But I didn’t; I felt angry. I felt manipulated. But instead of a fiend selling me screed and putting me into chains for coin, I was maneuvered to a bar and pushed out of Sigil by the actions of an angel. And not just any angel, one that had been an absent and silent father. One that left me alone to fend for myself in the Gatehouse. Left penniless, without a legacy, or anything to help me. And when I did dive through the portal, I was left alone in the dirt, without so much as a word why. Putting my life at risk, without being told it was part of a plan or even asking me to help.</p><p></p><p>I kicked a nearby bucket next to the well, frustrated. I wanted to scream and shout and swear a lot and would have if we weren’t so close to danger.</p><p></p><p>“I don’t understand…what is wrong with—” Eridan started.</p><p></p><p>“—I am going to make an educated guess that she was forced, and not asked to do this,” Beepu remarked.</p><p></p><p>“Sodding straight,” I said from behind clenched teeth.</p><p></p><p>“Are you saying you wouldn’t have helped?” Eridan asked puzzled.</p><p></p><p>I looked at him, and then Beepu, Iesa and Daneath in turn. “What? I…no…I would…I would have helped if asked. I...do not regret helping, or bleeding, or killing or anything about this. I just would have wanted to have a choice.”</p><p></p><p>“Not everyone gets to make choices. And as harsh as that sounds, someone had faith in you,” Eridan said with a small smile.</p><p></p><p>I looked at Eridan awkwardly and said, “I’m flattered that you have faith in me Eridan, but—”</p><p></p><p>“—No, not me,” Eridan interrupted. “The angel that sent you.”</p><p></p><p>“An angel…having faith…in <strong><em>me</em></strong>?”</p><p></p><p>“Why not? Belief can change many things, can it not?” Eridan pointed out.</p><p></p><p>I nodded and sighed, clearing my head. “Well, if that is the case, lets finish this.”</p><p></p><p>“Yes, I agree. So Eridan, if you could take off the ring around your neck—”</p><p></p><p>“—I cannot—” Eridan replied, as Beepu blazed on without noticing.</p><p></p><p>“—and then we can combine it with the rest of the device in my pouch here…wait, what did you say?” Beepu finaly registering what Eridan said.</p><p></p><p>“I cannot take it off…not by myself. It has a core of adamantite, so some heat and tools are needed.” Eridan explained.</p><p></p><p>“Why did Pachook make this difficult?” Iesa asked bewildered at this revelation.</p><p></p><p>“So, it couldn’t be simply taken from me, or pick pocketed or lost,” Eridan said. “But Pachook said that with a pair of tongs to pull and separate the ring, and a third one heated and pinching the body would make it pliable enough to bend.”</p><p></p><p>“Well…there’s a forge right there,” Iesa said. “Let’s warm it up,” and he walked out of the workshop door, to the furnace, followed by Daneath and Eridan. I stood there with Beepu still processing my emotions with Eridan’s revelations. I so wanted to talk to Gossamer right now.</p><p></p><p>It was strange; a familiar from one perspective just a simple spirit. But binding that spirit into a familiar form makes it a part of you. In some ways it <strong><em>is </em></strong>you. It knows your thoughts, and your fears, and it knows your secrets. Most of the time, a familiar is bound into animal form. They aren’t any smarter than that animal, but they are loyal to a fault.</p><p></p><p>I didn’t choose that form for Gossamer. A Tressym is far smarter than most familiars and as such the connection is stronger. There are advantages to this, better observation and more insight. I was warned about the downsides from Beepu.</p><p></p><p>“It is the first time, right?” Beepu asked, to which I quietly nodded. “I wish I could say it gets easier. Foggle is fixable but, I cannot say he is not different every time.”</p><p></p><p>I nodded and said, “Well, I guess I should resummon him, right?”</p><p></p><p>“Mourning something that does not really die is not a real productive use of time,” Beepu pointed out.</p><p></p><p>I smiled and nodded, pulled some incense from my spell pouch and was about to take off my pack to find a pot, when suddenly I heard steel on stone. Turning I saw the brothers and Eridan scramble back into the workshop. Daneath slammed the door shut and braced it with Iesa’s help.</p><p></p><p>“What the—” and I stopped when I looked at Eridan. Lodged in his side was a short iron javelin, a river of blood was already pouring out of the wound. Then I saw he wasn’t the only one wounded. Daneath also sported several wounds from javelins.</p><p></p><p>“Damned dwarves snuck up on us,” Daneath said, just as the sounds of iron pounding on iron echoed in the workshop. “One moment, we had tongs in our hands, the next—”</p><p></p><p>“—Invisible dwarves throwing iron at us. Cheaters,” Iesa said grimacing in pain as he held the door.</p><p></p><p>“Oh, like you haven’t done the same,” Daneath groaned.</p><p></p><p>“Where is the ring?” Beepu demanded. “We can build it and get ourselves out of here."</p><p></p><p>"It...it...is still on my neck," Eridan grunted. “We didn’t have enough time.”</p><p></p><p><strong>Session Notes:</strong></p><p></p><p>Gossamer's death was in one sense a tactical mistake, and in another a role playing opportunity. Some familiar's get treated as tools, others like simple pets. Neither Foggle or Gossamer were that, both had personalities and while Goss was the smarter one, it was Foggle doing a lot of heavy lifting. And while he was 'skinned' like an artificer's pet (and Artificers hadn't been released yet, otherwise I would pegged Beepu to be one) It was more than a simple statue. And Gossamer had all the cattitude needed; judgmental, bored with everyone, etc. The sudden loss was more like a friend disappearing than a tool, and I was satisfied with that interpretation.</p><p></p><p>Mo on the other hand, was lost and forgotten quite a bit. He wasn't a familiar, and so never did drive the story that way, but many times the "urchin's" pet faded in the background because it wasn't as useful. Granted story wise he had moments, and there was some free theft from merchants occasionally (which I felt was again RAI one what an urchin's pet mouse could do, but it really didn't make a material effect.) Mo would be either free in town, and forgotten about, or hiding in a pack, forgotten about. Although I did end up painting a mini for him, that we never ended up using.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nthal, post: 8101929, member: 6971069"] [CENTER][B]Prison break - 10/5/2020[/B] [I]Would it surprise you that I’ve been in prison? Well, not as a criminal, but I did some work there. The Mercykillers would hire young Gatehouse orphans to crawl and clean up places where the guards couldn’t get to. It wasn’t as mind numbingly boring as scrubbing rust from manacles, but it was a dirty job, and it was the best paying job that a kid under nine could get. But as you worked and cleaned you had a view of the punishments and labor the prisoners faced. And honest truth, from what I saw, death was a blessing, compared to what those berks went through.[/I][/CENTER] I knew the pain I was going to face; I had felt it all before in the ‘Tenth Pit.’ But as the flames started to lick around me, I realized something else was happening. My skin didn’t boil and flake away with the sudden burst of fire. What I felt was the opposite. I felt cold. As I watched, I could myself suddenly covered in a layer clear cold crystal. It covered my limbs and then expanded around me. In an instant, I found myself surrounded in the cold substance. I couldn’t move at all, my limbs where locked in place, trying to shield myself from the fire. My mouth and lips were surrounded by the icy substance, my scream stifled, my breathing stilled. I could no longer look around as my eyes were now locked on an empty scorch mark on the floor of the passageway. Everything looked like I was gazing through cut crystal, with rainbow like refractions everywhere that I could see with my frozen eyes. I was afraid. The cold wasn’t numbing at all. It was a new pain I had never experienced before. As sharp as any knife, as pervasive as any flame could be, penetrating me to the core. So cold that I felt that even my heart would stop beating. The flames surrounded me, their warmth a distant memory. In a matter of moments, it was over. The light of the fire disappeared, yet the cold crystals remained. Somewhere in front of me I saw several figures running towards my direction. But despite the cold, and despite the pain, all I felt was anger. I strained against my prison, wanting to burst free so I could do something against the murderous Duergar. As I tried to flex every muscle I had, I first felt and then saw fissures form. First, they were thin and spidery, and in moments, they spread everywhere like a broken mirror. Final my arms moved, and then I suddenly stumbled forward as the blocks of cold crystal fell away from my body. Foggle flew over my head and sprayed the dwarves with more blue-white lightning, before flying back around the corner. Four dwarves ran towards me, when in red hot anger, I bound a pair white and dark strands, and pulled them taut until they snapped. I watched the dwarves fall to the ground as their bones cracked within themselves. They made soft gurgling sounds as life left their bodies from my onslaught. Even the crates near me were not spared, as they blew apart spraying flinders and splinters everywhere. “What was [B][I]that?[/I]” [/B]I heard Beepu exclaim. I didn’t know how to answer. The crystals I was surrounded in, were turning into a liquid rapidly. I knelt down and picked up a remaining shard of crystal and held it. Its cold was rapidly dissipating, and it was shrinking as it turned into a liquid, but I brought the shard to my mouth and cautiously tasted it. But it had no taste at all just like… “Water?” I said dumbfounded. “Ice! Ice you silly girl!” Beepu admonished. “We do not have time. We should move and find Iesa and Daneath.” I nodded and paused only a moment to look at the ash streak on the floor. I puffed out my chest, exhaled, and followed Beepu deeper within. The room we came to was indeed a barracks, bunks in tiers of three were arranged in this rectangular room, along with a table and some stools. But while I saw no dwarves, I could hear them shouting along with the sounds of steel on steel, coming from a passageway to my right. Beepu and I didn’t say anything, and just ran. The passage was short, only a couple of paces. But when I exited it, I blinked in surprise at what I saw. Daneath had his shield overhead, using it to block a downward stroke of a battleaxe. The axe was wielded by a ‘dwarf’ that was easily a foot taller than Daneath. As he blocked the blow, he quickly reposted and used his shield to block another blow from a second dwarf’s axe, this one of equal size to the first. Iesa was nearby fending off another pair of huge dwarves, neither having any luck in landing a blow on the agile rogue. Not waiting, I pull on dark strands, and summoned a miasma around Daneath’s foes. The darkness swirled around them, causing them to bellow in surprise, and one falling to his knees. As he did and fell forward, he shrunk until he was the size of a typical dwarf. Beepu in the meantime, flung a bolt of fire, into Daneath’s second foe. While the blast wasn’t enough to fell him, the distraction was enough to allow Daneath to quickly thrust his sword into the dwarf’s belly. It groaned, and fell to the floor, also quickly shrinking in size. With his opponents down, he ran over to help his brother. Iesa sported a nasty cut from an axe on his arm, and blood flowed freely down it, having none of the armor his brother wore. But as Daneath moved behind one of the ‘giant’ dwarves it was enough to cause the dwarf to shift and prepare himself for his new foe. And that was all Iesa needed, to spin and sink his dagger deep in the Duergar’s flank. The dwarf wheezed and spat up a great gout of blood, before falling to the ground, shrinking back to his normal size. The last dwarf glared at Iesa and shouted some type of insult involving comparing his elbow to some type of animal. Or at least that’s what it sounded like, as my knowledge of dwarven slurs was limited. The dwarf swung, and his axe found its mark, slamming into Iesa’s side, the blade tearing away the leather and spraying blood across the nearby wall. Iesa grunted and stumbled backwards and the Dwarf moved in closer to deliver a final blow when I intervened, pulling on threads and throwing a pair of bolts of purple energy at the dwarf. They both struck him, causing him to stumble to his knees, where Daneath brought down his sword, crushing the cuirass and causing the now shrinking dwarf to groan out his last breath. “Well…that worked we all survived,” Iesa said smiling, clutching his side. I shook my head and wiped the sudden tears that were forming in my eyes as I pulled on a light strand to staunch Iesa’s bleeding. Iesa looked at me puzzled when Beepu spoke for me. “Gossamer did not survive; the dwarves had a sorcerer with them, and he…almost killed Myrai with a large blast of flames,” Beepu said somberly. “She looks fine,” Daneath said confused. “Not a mark on her.” “I am not sure I can explain that,” Beepu looked at me perplexed. “One moment she was there about to be roasted, and the next she was surrounded in rapidly melting ice.” “Ice? You mean like icicles in Waterdeep.” Iesa said looking at me. “I’d never seen ice…I’ve heard of it,” I said quietly. “But was just thinking how to…protect…myself.” I then suddenly remembered a conversation I had with the strange magical construct I found myself in, while at the fortress of the Prophesized One. Where there was a sudden infusion of something into my person: [I]“Assimilation of loci complete. Configuration of loci allocated to protection, based on metal state of element Myrai.”[/I] “Protection,” I said understanding what the construct meant. “Myr?” Daneath asked looking at me concerned. “Nevermind,” I said. “We need to find somewhere safe or keep moving at least.” “Can you bury the bodies like you do normally?” Daneath asked. I looked around at the room and shook my head, “Its all stone. I need dirt to hide them like that. And while I should give rites…we can’t right now.” “Well then, Iesa can you open the door?” Beepu asked. “I can send Foggle through and scout ahead. Probably for the last time too where he can’t be seen. Iesa nodded and moved to the door. He quickly took a small pair of pliers and put them into the lock and quickly removed a small bar, which he pocketed. He then gripped the handle to the door and pulled it open. Beepu poked his head beyond the door, looking back and forth, and sent Foggle through. Iesa pushed the door to near closure and we waited and listened to Beepu mutter. “Let us see. Opens into a cavern, less worked stone here. Several shafts leading down…likely mines. I see another area of worked stone…a forge based on the fire and tools. Unoccupied. Several dwarves patrolling in pairs. There is another passage…looks like…cells for prisoners. A bigger passage leads…And he’s out of range now.” Beepu said shaking his head. “Bigger passage?” Daneath asked. Beepu nodded, “I could just get the image of a tower. Probably leads deeper into the Underdark. And it was large too. Several floors.” “How are we going to clear that?” Iesa asked. “Clear it?” I said looking at him confused. “Why would we need to?” “Isn’t that what the drow want?” Iesa said puzzled. “I bet they do. I think [I]we[/I] want a Genasi.” I pointed out. “Myr’s right,” Beepu said excitedly. “We find him, and if he knows where the last part is, we can just…use the device and leave here.” “And if he doesn’t have it?” Daneath said concerned. “Then, we decide if we need to clear out the Duergar,” I said. “So where to? The cells or the shafts?” Iesa asked. “Cells, should be easy to get to.” Beepu said before straightening up. “Ah…he’s back. Wait…yes. Oh...oh…that is not good.” “What isn’t good?” I asked warily. “It was not just a tower. It is a much larger garrison.” “How large are we talking?” Daneath pressed. “Large enough that we cannot possibly take them on in a straight fight.” Beepu said in a resigned tone. “Let’s not do that. Cells then, quickly.” We stood there and nodded, and Iesa pulled open the door. We followed his lead and put our back to the wall and stayed in the shadows as best we could. The cavern we found ourselves in wasn’t a natural one. It appeared to be a pit with multiple levels with us on a top tier, and the cavern was vaulted above us. On one side was an opening with large iron doors still wide open. Withing the glow of a hot forge emanated a warm orange light, casting shadows off of anvils and benches. Following the lip of the pit around, another passageway pierced the cavern wall, and from here I could barely make outdoors lining the walls. Directly across was a large opening, that continued downwards. From our vantage point I saw what Beepu was talking about; the upper floors of a tower were visible in the distance, framed in sconces on the top corners of the battlements. It was a very large structure I could tell, based on how small the torches were in comparison. “Where are the patrols?” I whispered to Beepu. “Down in the pit; that is where the shafts are.” He replied quietly. Nodding to myself, we continued circling the pits edge, trying not to get too close, lest we be seen by a sharp-eyed dwarf. We passed by the forge and gave it only the most cursory glance to check that it was unoccupied and made our way to the tunnel with the doors. The passage was four paces wide, and iron doors with iron bars at eye level, stretched the length. Iesa walked to one on the left side and peeked inside quickly, he pulled himself back and frowned. He pointed at me and then the door. I started to shake my head, when he then pointed to his own eyes and the waved his hand in front of himself. I sighed and took the lead. Moving to the door, I quickly smelled what was the odor of an outhouse. Grimacing, I stood on my toes and looked inside, only to find it was unoccupied. Frowning I moved down to the next one, and found it was also unoccupied beyond the fumes. I kept moving down the line, finding more odorous empty cells. It was like this for ten doors, and I reached the end of the hall. Sighing, I walked across the hallway to look inside and almost squealed in surprise. There in the cell, lay a human male, dressed in rags asleep on the stone. He was covered in dirt, dust and probably a bit of his own filth. He was however either asleep or passed out unconscious. I thought a moment and realized that the cells on the left must already be mining below, while this side would be roused and sent down into the pits later on. Frowning, I moved to the next cell, and found another human male, and continued onto the next one which held a dwarf like figure. The conditions of each of them was wretched, but the sad truth was that we couldn’t really do anything for them right then. I could only hope that we could later. I then looked into the next cell, and saw it was empty and quickly moved on, looking into the next one. It was another human male, although much older than the rest with grey hair and sagging skin. I was about to move on when I stopped. Squinting I looked more carefully and then I started to smile. As I watched, I saw that his hair moved on its own accord, drifting and waving on a missing breeze. He wore a simple leather tunic that had clearly seen better days. Around his ankles and wrists were fetters, with chains between them. But around his neck was something like a thick clay circlet. I could hear him groan in his sleep quietly as I stared getting more excited. I then turned to Iesa and nodded, pointing to the door excitedly. He wasted no time pulling out his tools. He then bent down and started to work at the lock as quietly as he could, and as quickly as he dared. It wasn’t long before we heard the creaking of the bolt slide out of the door jamb. Backing away, Daneath pulled on the ring and he slowly and carefully, pulled the door open, and I quickly stepped inside. I knelt down next to the Genasi; he was indeed old; his face well lined. His sagging skin hid that his body was in good shape, if a bit underfed. I leaned down close and with my left hand I gently roused him, while I covered his mouth with my right. His eyes flew open as he tensed up, like he expected violence or punishment. His eyes scanned the darkness, unable to see me. “Whmm? Hmm?” and I shushed him and uncovered his mount to let him speak. “Wha…wha…no…who?” he stammered; his voice raspy as if speaking was an effort. “What is your name?” I asked softly. “A…a…woman?” he said surprised. “I haven’t heard a…nevermind. I am…called Eri…Eridan.” “Eridan,” I said. “Eridan bin Ahoone?” His eyes darted around frantically, trying seek me out in the darkness, “You…you know me?” “We’ve been looking for you,” I said, and I flexed, feeling the rush along my back, and creating a small dim light in the palm of my hand, letting it shine on both of our faces. The light touched his eyes, and he winced momentarily, and then he looked at me. He stared like he was a man dying of thirst, drinking in my features. As I watched, I could see tears stream down his face as he looked me up and down, until finally his eyes saw the medallion on my chest; the scales held aloft by a skeletal arm. At that point he gave a contented sigh. “Finally, it is time. Finally, you have come to me,” he said still tearing up. “Yes,” I said smiling. “Pachook’s son, Umbra’s sons…they are here.” “No…not them. You Myrai…” he said, and my jaw dropped open. “I’ve been waiting for you.” I was blinking in confusion at Eridan’s words. “Wait…What? How did you know my name?” He smiled as he reached up to touch my face, as I stared at him unsure, what to think or feel. “I was told that you would come. That you would bring the sons to me. I feared that it might not happen. But my faith has been rewarded,” he said smiling still touching my hair as I looked him uncomprehendingly. Finally, I shook my head to clear it. “I don’t…. wait….do you have the final piece to Pachooks’ device?” He kept smiling and nodded. “Yes…Pachook’s part is still with me, and with it Umbra’s plan can come to fruition,” he said as he touched the clay ring encircling his neck. I touched the rough surface thinking a moment, “I thought it was copper clad—” “—Adamantite? Yes, it is…but I covered it in clay to disguise it. If the Duergar were any wiser, they might have taken it,” he said. I nodded, and then looked at him seriously, “Can you walk? We should go somewhere…anywhere else.” “Yes…yes of course, we can talk elsewhere.” Eridan agreed, and I stood and assisted him to his feet. “Iesa, can you unlock these chains?” I whispered, and he came over and after a single glance he shook his head. “They aren’t locked, they’re riveted shut. I’d need serious tools to undo those.” “Pay it no mind, I can carry the lengths, just go slow. I am not as spry as I once was,” and he stooped over and gathered the chains from around his legs, and we exited the cell. “Where now?” Daneath asked. “Back where we came from, and jam the door,” Iesa recommended. We moved around the pit ledge cautiously, with Beepu in front, and the brothers behind him, while I helped Eridan to move keeping his chains silent. trying not to attract attention. But as we made our way past the smithy, suddenly Beepu started backing up. “Patrol!” he said under his breath, and we turned and ducked into the nearby forge. The first thing I noticed was the heat; the furnace was beyond hot in the smithy. Warm red orange light poured from the opening of the forge, giving the smithy an infernal glow. Four anvils were scattered nearby, and the room contained a scattering of incomplete weapons on the racks, as well as more mundane objects from flat iron plates, to rivets and pull rings. At one end was an open door that led into a workshop and we quickly moved into it, so we could hide. Inside it was rectangular in shape, with numerous benches and tools. Near the door, stood a large well with a bucket on the edge. Several oil lamps were hung from wires, unlit over the workbenches. The tools here were for smaller, finer work, compared to the large hammers outside. Iesa pushed the door shut, and as he did so, Beepu and I focused and lit a pair of lamps giving the area some light. “Let’s get these off of you,” and Daneath started to rummage through the tools while Eridan pulled himself onto a bench and sat expectantly, smiling. As he sat there, Beepu stared at the Genasi. After a while he nodded to himself and then spoke. “I remember you now, you were pretending to be a messenger with my offer from Candlekeep for training,” “Well, that’s not quite true…I [B][I]was[/I][/B] a messenger. Your father had already paid for your entrance with several volumes on artifice he had written, and I simply took the opportunity to deliver its confirmation back to him. The fact I was doing ‘deliveries’ for the Harpers was part of my wanderings.” “Well I’m glad you remember him, I don’t,” Daneath said as he picked up a set of tongs, and an iron rod handing it to Iesa. “I would be surprised if you had; I kept my distance, while you were at the church; the sisters there could keep an eye on you better than I.” “You were an orphan at a church?” Iesa asked his brother. “Lucky. You never mentioned it.” Daneath started to pull with the tongs on the rivet fastening one of the fetters closed, while Iesa used the rod and a hammer to push. “Well the Church of Tyr was…harsh, and the Sisters seemed awfully meanspirited. Made it when I trained under Umbra feel less like toil, and more fun.” “Didn’t you say our father was a harsh taskmaster?” Iesa questioned. “He was. But nothing compared to Sister Cemina, her thrashings are the stuff of nightmares.” Daneath replied, pulling the first pin away. “Well I don’t remember him either,” Iesa said, shifting the bar to the next set of fetters. “That’s only because I lost you,” Eridan replied defensively. “Lost me? How was that possible?” Iesa asked looking at Eridan disbelievingly. “Well, Umbra had set up your mother in a home in Baldur’s Gate, she had coin and enough to live well,” Iesa’s jaw dropped in surprise. “But the gods were not kind. When you were newly born, one of the Sea Dukes, essentially robbed your mother because he wanted her property, and she was forced to flee the city. She had no way to contact Umbra to ask for help. By the time Umbra did find out what had happened, she was long gone. She managed to somehow get to Waterdeep, and I am still uncertain how she did.” Iesa frowned, “I don’t remember that at all.” “Well it certainly angered Umbra, and he made sure the Duke paid for what he had done. And he asked me to look for you. And finding you was my primary reason for wandering. So many false hopes...but found you I did, albeit too late to be of real help to her, or you. I’m sorry about that.” The second fetter sprang loose, and the brothers started on the manacles. “Well, its’ not your fault,” Iesa said, placing the rod against the bottom of the rivet. “No, and Umbra, probably rightfully, blamed himself. But I was so happy when your little pal…hello there,” and Eridan waved at Mo, who had poked his head out of curiosity at the Genasi, “Took the map, and you actually followed it.” “You could have just told me you know,” Iesa pointed out. “I considered it, but…oh well,” Eridan shrugged. “Alright, so how do I fit into this?” I asked, crossing my arms in annoyance. “I understand the machinations with Iesa, and Daneath and Beepu. But you…knew I was coming? How? [B][I]I[/I][/B] didn’t even know I was coming.” “Well, that’s a strange story in itself. When Umbra told me about the Kershak, and the essence of his plan, I was concerned. What he described was offensive to Kelemvor’s teachings. And so, I prayed for many things; Umbra’s success, the survival of the three, me keeping the parts safe. But one night, months ago I received a vision. In that vision I saw an angel, clad in grey and silver, and he…informed me that my prayers had been heard, and that a hand named ‘Myrai’ was sent, and they would bring us all together eventually.” I stood there blinking and shaking my head in disbelief, as he continued. “Now, there was nothing I could do directly, but I did tell the Harpers about what I had heard. I wondered how I could help, but no one I knew heard of a person going by your name, much less a woman. All I could do was have faith. And it seems my faith has been rewarded.” The manacle popped open, and the brothers set to work on the last one, “So, what? Myr is an agent of the gods?” Iesa asked as I still was considering the implications. “What would you call it then?” Eridan asked. “Luck?” Daneath responded. “Or good fortune perhaps. But divine intervention?” and Daneath looked at me awkwardly, clearly unsure what to believe. “I don’t feel…that divine,” I said feeling awkward with this conversation. “I mean, getting maneuvered to a bar, that happens to hip me in Triboar…that’s just coincidence.” “Perhaps it is,” Eridan responded nodding. “But then, how did I know your name?” I didn’t know how to answer that, let alone feel. Was I in control of my destiny or not? Was I a slave to fate, and unable to make a real choice? Was it because I was devout in my beliefs, or was that secondary to an…angel’s…? “Eridan, you said it was an angel that told you, right?” I began. “Do you remember anything about them? Anything at all?” “About the angel? Well…um…well. A tall, perfect angelic man, and he had golden hair, and eyes like yours come to think of it—” “Ten gold says she’s about to lose it,” Iesa said looking at Daneath. “Sucker bet,” Daneath replied. I know now how I should have looked at this. I should have felt honored to be given an important task of my faith. I should have been inspired that I was sent to someone that needed my help. That I was the right person to help. But I didn’t; I felt angry. I felt manipulated. But instead of a fiend selling me screed and putting me into chains for coin, I was maneuvered to a bar and pushed out of Sigil by the actions of an angel. And not just any angel, one that had been an absent and silent father. One that left me alone to fend for myself in the Gatehouse. Left penniless, without a legacy, or anything to help me. And when I did dive through the portal, I was left alone in the dirt, without so much as a word why. Putting my life at risk, without being told it was part of a plan or even asking me to help. I kicked a nearby bucket next to the well, frustrated. I wanted to scream and shout and swear a lot and would have if we weren’t so close to danger. “I don’t understand…what is wrong with—” Eridan started. “—I am going to make an educated guess that she was forced, and not asked to do this,” Beepu remarked. “Sodding straight,” I said from behind clenched teeth. “Are you saying you wouldn’t have helped?” Eridan asked puzzled. I looked at him, and then Beepu, Iesa and Daneath in turn. “What? I…no…I would…I would have helped if asked. I...do not regret helping, or bleeding, or killing or anything about this. I just would have wanted to have a choice.” “Not everyone gets to make choices. And as harsh as that sounds, someone had faith in you,” Eridan said with a small smile. I looked at Eridan awkwardly and said, “I’m flattered that you have faith in me Eridan, but—” “—No, not me,” Eridan interrupted. “The angel that sent you.” “An angel…having faith…in [B][I]me[/I][/B]?” “Why not? Belief can change many things, can it not?” Eridan pointed out. I nodded and sighed, clearing my head. “Well, if that is the case, lets finish this.” “Yes, I agree. So Eridan, if you could take off the ring around your neck—” “—I cannot—” Eridan replied, as Beepu blazed on without noticing. “—and then we can combine it with the rest of the device in my pouch here…wait, what did you say?” Beepu finaly registering what Eridan said. “I cannot take it off…not by myself. It has a core of adamantite, so some heat and tools are needed.” Eridan explained. “Why did Pachook make this difficult?” Iesa asked bewildered at this revelation. “So, it couldn’t be simply taken from me, or pick pocketed or lost,” Eridan said. “But Pachook said that with a pair of tongs to pull and separate the ring, and a third one heated and pinching the body would make it pliable enough to bend.” “Well…there’s a forge right there,” Iesa said. “Let’s warm it up,” and he walked out of the workshop door, to the furnace, followed by Daneath and Eridan. I stood there with Beepu still processing my emotions with Eridan’s revelations. I so wanted to talk to Gossamer right now. It was strange; a familiar from one perspective just a simple spirit. But binding that spirit into a familiar form makes it a part of you. In some ways it [B][I]is [/I][/B]you. It knows your thoughts, and your fears, and it knows your secrets. Most of the time, a familiar is bound into animal form. They aren’t any smarter than that animal, but they are loyal to a fault. I didn’t choose that form for Gossamer. A Tressym is far smarter than most familiars and as such the connection is stronger. There are advantages to this, better observation and more insight. I was warned about the downsides from Beepu. “It is the first time, right?” Beepu asked, to which I quietly nodded. “I wish I could say it gets easier. Foggle is fixable but, I cannot say he is not different every time.” I nodded and said, “Well, I guess I should resummon him, right?” “Mourning something that does not really die is not a real productive use of time,” Beepu pointed out. I smiled and nodded, pulled some incense from my spell pouch and was about to take off my pack to find a pot, when suddenly I heard steel on stone. Turning I saw the brothers and Eridan scramble back into the workshop. Daneath slammed the door shut and braced it with Iesa’s help. “What the—” and I stopped when I looked at Eridan. Lodged in his side was a short iron javelin, a river of blood was already pouring out of the wound. Then I saw he wasn’t the only one wounded. Daneath also sported several wounds from javelins. “Damned dwarves snuck up on us,” Daneath said, just as the sounds of iron pounding on iron echoed in the workshop. “One moment, we had tongs in our hands, the next—” “—Invisible dwarves throwing iron at us. Cheaters,” Iesa said grimacing in pain as he held the door. “Oh, like you haven’t done the same,” Daneath groaned. “Where is the ring?” Beepu demanded. “We can build it and get ourselves out of here." "It...it...is still on my neck," Eridan grunted. “We didn’t have enough time.” [B]Session Notes:[/B] Gossamer's death was in one sense a tactical mistake, and in another a role playing opportunity. Some familiar's get treated as tools, others like simple pets. Neither Foggle or Gossamer were that, both had personalities and while Goss was the smarter one, it was Foggle doing a lot of heavy lifting. And while he was 'skinned' like an artificer's pet (and Artificers hadn't been released yet, otherwise I would pegged Beepu to be one) It was more than a simple statue. And Gossamer had all the cattitude needed; judgmental, bored with everyone, etc. The sudden loss was more like a friend disappearing than a tool, and I was satisfied with that interpretation. Mo on the other hand, was lost and forgotten quite a bit. He wasn't a familiar, and so never did drive the story that way, but many times the "urchin's" pet faded in the background because it wasn't as useful. Granted story wise he had moments, and there was some free theft from merchants occasionally (which I felt was again RAI one what an urchin's pet mouse could do, but it really didn't make a material effect.) Mo would be either free in town, and forgotten about, or hiding in a pack, forgotten about. Although I did end up painting a mini for him, that we never ended up using. [/QUOTE]
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