shilsen
Adventurer
So how many months away is the arrival of the new gamer? I'll admit I never considered the Guardian Angels as a bedtime storyI hear ya - our term ends in a few weeks too - Yay!
All my time after that will be taken up getting the baby room ready
Still, by the time it's born and ready for a bedtime story, I'll know if there's a happy ending!
Work-wise, I'm almost done right now and will be in 2 days. And here's the next bit of the writeup.
* * * * * * * * * *
The Guardian Angels spend some time experimenting on and with the link they seem to have to each other, checking to see what effects it has and if it allows them to do anything that they could not do earlier. They quickly discover that if they focus slightly longer while casting a spell which could otherwise only be delivered by touching the target, they can now deliver it—if doing so to one of those linked to them—while up to ten feet away. A particularly interesting element of this ability is that it seems to work through barriers too, whether physical or magical, so an intervening wall or a wall of force doesn’t prevent its usage.
If they concentrate for a minute, they can actually hear each other, even if not in normal hearing range, and can carry on a conversation via the link. This ability extends to everyone actively attempting to join in the conversation, allowing for multiple parties to participate at once. A similar amount of concentration also provides information about how far away and in what direction one of the linked creatures is. This ability seems to work irrespective of any magical protections the creature might have, with even a mind blank not obstructing it in any way.
The Angels’ experimentations raise all sorts of new questions about what these abilities and their link to each other—and, presumably, to Mual-Tar—means for them, but the discussion is interrupted as they are joined by Jaela and Cedric, with Essirise following the two in her habitual shape as an elven woman.
Unlike the Angels, both Jaela and Cedric look significantly the worse for wear, the dark circles under their eyes betokening their tiredness. The short stubble that Cedric usually wears is beginning to grow into a beard, while Jaela appears to be in the same clothes that she wore during the battle a day and a half ago. Essirise is the only one who doesn’t look any more tired than when they last saw her, but then again, she combines the natural endurance of a dragon with her magical shapechanging abilities.
The three of them have a number of things to discuss with the Guardian Angels. Besides wishing to satisfy their curiosity about precisely what transpired to cause all of the Angels to sleep so long—or, in Six’s case, to fall asleep in the first place—they also bring news about the results of the battle, which they provide once the Angels have filled them in on what they think happened.
The news that the trio bring with them is intriguing. Besides the information about the remnants of the defeated aberration army having fled into southeast Thrane and toward the Mournland, there is news from across Khorvaire of aberration forces retreating. Most of them have either entered or are heading toward the Mournland, but some of those which are a long distance away from its borders seem to be seeking out shelter or defensible positions. A number of them have apparently retreated back into the tunnels which they used to emerge from Khyber.
Jaela says, expression matching the worry in her tone, “Perhaps now that Mual-Tar has absorbed … some of the power of the Silver Flame, they hope to utilize it to open up the remaining dimensional seals.”
“It is a possibility,” Nameless replies thoughtfully, “But I doubt it. From what we have seen and learned of it, there was little indication that the Worm had any real master-plan or motivation beyond achieving blind destruction. It seemed to have been drawn here with a desire to consume the power of the Flame, rather than via an actual strategy. Or so I surmise.”
“Yes,” agrees Gareth. “During the battle it didn’t even seem to respond to the daelkyr lord’s orders. It’s probably just a mostly mindless beast.”
“A very big and super-powerful mindless beast!” Luna corrects, before looking thoughtful in turn. “Hey – since the Worm ate the Silver Flame, maybe having all that shiny goodness inside it will turn it good too? Maybe?”
While Jaela and Essirise stare at the Gatekeeper with a mild form of the confusion she often engenders in those around her, Korm chuckles, “Have you met Gareth? He’s been full of the Silver Flame since day one and … actually, forget it!” He glances sideways at the paladin and winks. “We don’t have time to discuss what you’re full of!”
Nameless rises, emitting a harsh laugh. “True. We still have to ascertain the limits and ramifications of our new abilities. And, in view of the events of the battle, plan our next move.” The alienist glances at Jaela and says, “But first, I have something to offer you. You have provided us tremendous amounts of aid, without which not one of us would be alive right now. As a small token, now that I have finally gained the power to do so, I would like to cast a wish on your behalf. I cannot restore your lost powers, of course, but perhaps there is something else I can do for you?”
Jaela looks momentarily surprised and then clearly touched. “Thank you, Nameless,” she replies, before adding hesitantly, “But I’m … really not sure what I would … or should, ask for.”
“Hmm. Would you perhaps like me to create a permanent illusion of the Silver Flame where it once was,” he suggests, “As a way to allay people’s fears or provide them with hope?”
The former Keeper of the Flame considers the proposition and then slowly, almost reluctantly, shakes her head. “No, I do not think that would be right, since it would be false. But, again, thank you.”
“You know,” says Cedric, who has been watching silently, “Every girl needs a pet.”
“Huh?”
The general of Flamekeep’s forces gives Jaela a meaningful look. “A dog. An ugly, smelly, many-legged dog, which can help protect her from the many foes she has.”
“Oh – Skaravojen!” Jaela smiles as realization dawns and she turns to Nameless. Before she can speak, the alienist smiles too, at the expression on her face, and then says, “Done!”
Nameless speaks a word of power. The alienist has long been able to see deeper and farther into the true meaning of the great illusion around him than others do, being able to clearly perceive and revel in what lesser minds cannot. As a scholar, as an arcanist, and above all, as an alienist, he has always been able to see beyond, into places that would surprise, confuse, horrify and finally destroy weaker minds, which rely on mundane reality as a blanket to shroud them from the true meaning of existence. His magical abilities have always enabled him to somewhat change the world around him. But now, at the apex of his powers, the alienist feels a quiet satisfaction and a sense of completion as the ability to reshape reality flows through him. Which, with a thought and a gesture, he now uses.
A moment later, there is a growling bark, with a rumbling undertone of joy, and a large, dark hairy beast rushes through the doorway and hurls itself at Jaela. Skaravojen has returned.
As the former Keeper of the Flame dissolves utterly into an eleven-year-old girl who is reunited with her beloved pet, Cedric looks past her with a glance of approbation at Nameless and silently mouths the words, “Well done!”
* * * * *
Once Jaela and Skaravojen have had a little time to enjoy the reunion and Nameless has been profusely thanked by her (and thoroughly licked by the dragonhound), the group moves on to other issues on their agenda.
Jaela mentions that the various nations, most of the dragonmarked houses, and a few extra-national organizations, have sent queries about the results of the battle, the status of the Silver Flame, the situation with the aberration forces, and related matters. She also mentions that a very common query—particularly from the nations of Aundair, Breland and Karrnath—has been about Thronehold and what happened there and why a piece of the island is now missing.
Gareth says, “I’m sorry you have to deal with the Thronehold thing. Just blame it on us.” Jaela smiles slightly and replies, “I already have.”
Jaela then also lists the various people who are waiting to speak to the Guardian Angels or have sent messages of various kinds, usually magical, to indicate that the Angels should contact or meet them. The trolls from Droaam which fought beside them are apparently getting a little worried about returning to the Hags and are getting fractious. The captains of the airships wish to know if they can return to Stormhome or are still needed. Mordain the Fleshweaver, the Daughters of Sora Kell, Gurr’khan, and Lalia d’Deneith have all sent messages as well.
“We should have hired an answering service,” Six says dryly as Jaela works through the lists of people. She chuckles at his words and says, “What will you do next?”
“Go to Droaam and Sharn, I believe,” replies Nameless, “But then we need to check the Mournland. I wish to visit the spot where Mual-Tar entered it and see if its magic-warping abilities had any effect on the area.”
Essirise suddenly puts in, “And I shall return to Argonnessen. I need to relate what has happened here and see what aid I can bring back. I’ll return as soon as I’m able.”
“Sounds good,” says Korm. “I never look a gift dragon in the mouth.”
Cedric grins at the witticism and then says, his expression turning serious, “And there’s one thing I’d like you to do before you leave – speak to the College of Cardinals.”
Jaela frowns, her expression one of mild distaste and concern, and says, “Do you think that’s really necessary, Cedric? They do have more important things to do.”
“Yes,” he replies, in a firmly insistent tone, “But they also need to ensure that there’s someone to hold Thrane—and the Silver Flame—together while they’re gone. And that’s you.” Looking around, he clarifies, “Now that the Flame is gone, the Cardinals are panicking and looking for someone to blame. And Jaela’s the perfect target. That f*cker Krozen’s been waiting a long time for this, and though he can’t be Keeper now, he’s not about to give up the opportunity. They’re meeting now, in fact. I could interrupt the meeting and say a few choice words, but,” he pauses, a wicked smile flowing across his face, “I think we have more qualified people in this room.”
* * * * *
Only minutes later, the College of Cardinals, whose members have hurriedly gathered together in the largest of their meeting chambers, is rudely interrupted. An incredibly unhappy-looking guard captain sticks his head through the door, his expression presumably in part due to entering the chamber but perhaps more so because a particularly large and well-armored troll is carrying him. Dropping the man unceremoniously, the troll looks around asks, “So – can we eats them?” A couple more troll heads extend past the doorframe, looking hopefully into the chamber.
“Sadly, no,” says Korm, walking into the chamber behind the troll, accompanied by the other Guardian Angels, “Or at least, not yet. Give us a few moments please.”
“Okay!” grunts the troll disappointedly before shambling out of the door and stopping in the doorway, clearly in a guard position.
Indignant and alarmed cries break out in the chamber, only to be quickly silenced as Gareth cries out, “Silence! We are here to address the Council!”
Cardinal Krozen, seated on the high chair at the front of the room, rises to his feet, his face read with anger. Almost spluttering in rage, he stammers, “You … you … people! You have no authority here! You cannot … !”
“Shut it, bozo!” growls Luna as she walks forward, sounding remarkably ursine despite being in her natural shifter form now. Shoving past Krozen, she turns to face the College of Cardinals and points to herself. “Listen – people! See this glow? It means we’re the incarnation of the Silver Flame. When it got eaten by that damn snake, we got a lot of it too. So we represent the Flame. And Jaela is the Keeper, right? So she represents us. So you better listen to her. Okay?”
“Was that what you planned to say?” Six asks Nameless, sotto voce.
“Not quite,” says the alienist, before shrugging. “But it seems to be working. Perhaps because they’re confused now.”
Befuddlement is certainly the expression on most faces in the chamber. While murmurs flow up and down the long rows of seated Cardinals, nobody says anything for a few moments, till a particularly ancient-looking member in the front raises a hand.
Luna, who has been looking around with a pleased expression, points and says, “Yeah! You have a question?”
“Yes, miss,” says the old woman, who looks ancient enough to be her great-grandmother, “Are you representing Jaela?”
Luna frowns and opens her mouth to explain again who represents what and expand on the incarnate nature of the Guardian Angels, but Gareth quickly interrupts. “Yes,” he says, “We represent Jaela Daran. The Keeper of the Flame,” he emphasizes, “Who speaks for the people of Thrane.”
Nameless steps up beside Gareth and adds quickly, a pre-cast magical effect carrying his harsh tones clearly to everyone, “Flamekeep, we know, is in a state of crisis. Jaela Daran and Cedric Galan are the reason the city—and you—still exist. They are currently holding things together, and we want to ensure that their efforts receive your full support. This is not a request. We are informing you of the facts. If you do not fully support them in their efforts, we shall be very displeased. You do not want us displeased.”
Luna, who has been frowning at the interruptions, turns to growl at the Cardinals, “Yeah! You jerks try not to stress Jaela out. She’s been through a lot!”
Krozen, who has turned almost apoplectic by this point, finally manages to interrupt. “You … you scoundrels! How dare you attempt to intimidate us into following you?! You and that little girl can ….”
“Oh, shut it!” Korm says disgustedly, catching the Cardinal’s eye with a menacing glare. Unfortunately for Krozen, the glare is backed up by the supernatural abilities that the Gatekeeper possesses. The Cardinal stares at Korm for a moment and then collapses, instantly asleep as the Gatekeeper’s hex takes effect. Before he can hit the floor, Six darts forward to catch him. Easily picking him up with one hand, the warforged unceremoniously deposits him on a nearby table.
Korm grins around at the startled watchers and says reassuringly, “He’s resting now. When he wakes up, tell him I said to behave.”
“Or,” Nameless says succinctly, “We will be back.” Then he says, over the telepathic link that he has with his companions, “We made our point. Let’s go.”
The Guardian Angels proceed to depart, only Luna pausing to give everyone a last, threatening growl as they exit the chamber.
Once outside, Nameless says, “Well – Flamekeep and Jaela’s position are as stable as we can make it. And we’re as empowered as the Silver Flame can make us. The Flame is gone, but so is Antaratma. We have allies to talk to and Essirise is hopefully going to bring more aid from Argonnessen. It’s not an ideal situation, of course, as long as Mual-Tar exists, but I think we have a chance to deal with the situation.” Seeing Gareth frowning, he asks, “You’re still worried?”
“Yes,” says the paladin, “It’s been two days since we last spoke. Lalia’s going to kill me!”
