Arcanis: Gonnes, Sons, and Treasure Runs (COMPLETED)

[talien]

Brothers: Part 2 – Colombo’s Office

They set out for the Navigli in the late afternoon. Paulo negotiated the journey with a carriage driver.

Once aboard, the vehicle moved away from the city center on the small roads and bridges of the community. It was foggy and there was no other traffic. Rain had set in, falling in a steady drizzle.

For much of the journey the carriage had to crawl, at other times it pushed slowly through crowds of local residents. The driver frequently stopped to give Colombo’s name to passers by.

Finally, they pulled up to a rather squalid terrace.

”This is it,” said Paulo. He told the driver to wait and stepped out of the carriage. The others followed behind him.

A faded legend above one door announces: OFFICE. Sebastian knocked on it.

Upon his knock, someone called, “Vieni qui!”

“That means enter in High Coryan.” Sebastian pushed the door opened.

The door gave into a room about ten feet on each side with a desk, two chairs, and a single shelf of books. On one wall was a painting. Although it seemed to be a supper with Illiir at the center, the artist had painted the scene from the back and no faces were visible. On another wall was a very faded painting of a young priest with a cardinal.

Behind the desk sat a toothless, bald man with one milky white eye. He wore a sour expression. In front of him sat a slim man with a gaunt face and longish straight black hair. A small cup of coffee was set before each man.

“Hello,” Sebastian said with a slight smile. “Are you Thomas Villiers?”

“Che?” asked the older man.

“Thomas Villiers?” Sebastian repeated.

The older man looked to the younger, who just smiled and shrugged.

“Thom-as Vil-liers?” Sebastian repeated slowly for the third time.

Finally, the younger man laughed. “I’m Thomas.” He pointed at the older man. “This is Giuseppe Colombo. I can speak both Low and High Coryan fluently. You must forgive my rudeness. I was just admiring your efforts, it reminded me a great deal of myself just a few years ago.”

Sebastian turned to Paulo. “I think we’re okay here, Paulo. Please wait in the carriage.

Paulo nodded and bowed out of the room.

With Paulo gone, Thomas smiled. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“Do you know Livius Carbo?”

“Yes, Livius and I are close friends. We left Freeport together in the spring to come here to Sweet Savona.”

“It’s an interesting place,” said Vlad. The last time he had been in Sweet Savona it was a very different and altogether more pleasant experience.

“There are many brilliant people to study with here: me, Giuseppe and Livius are part of one such group that was organized by a professor Roberto Anzalone from the university. I myself am a painter and used to sculpt, but the group is eclectic: it contains writers, actors, musicians, philosophers, academics, and all sorts of people.” He paused. “I hate to disappoint you, but Livius left the city recently on a journey.”

“Where?” asked Vlad.

Thomas smiled. He looked at Colombo. “The story is they’ve gone to the Forbidden Wastes—well, they haven’t. Actually, they’re on a Pilgrimage—“

Immediately, Colombo erupted. He stood up and spewed out an incredible torrent of invective—screaming, spitting, pointing, sometimes at Thomas and sometimes at Sebastian.

“A che cosa dite a questa gente, Villiers? Guardarlo! Stupido! Spendono i loro soldi su vino e sui prostituti in modo da possono bere e carreggiata i loro giorni via. Vedono? Si preoccupano per il vuoto delle loro vite? Il re nel colore giallo sta venendo a Arcanis questo ciclo e scoperà esente la terra da questi rifiuti. I suoi programmi non sono il vostro, Villiers, o Anzalone, o il Carbo, qualunque li pensate sa. Dire a questa gente che viene qui cercando il re nel colore giallo che percorrerà su loro e su tutti come loro!”

He pushed furiously past Beldin and Vlad, who were standing, out into the street.

“What was that all about?” asked Beldin.

Sebastian shook his head at Beldin. “I’ll tell you later.”

As the door slammed shut, Thomas smiled ruefully.

“Please, ignore old Guiseppe. My friend doesn’t understand the common tongue, so I don’t know what provoked that. I suggest a change of venue. The office is uncomfortable and my studio is close. I have a couple of bottles of grappa there too. “

“I don’t know if we should…” Vlad cocked his head.

There was shouting and noise. Horses set off at a gallop. Colombo had told the carriage driver in a most forceful manner that he was not needed.

“Never mind.” Vlad rubbed the back of his head. “I think our ride just left.”

“In that case we’d be happy to join you,” said Sebastian.

 

[talien]

Brothers: Part 3 – Villiers’ Studio

Thomas led them through a primitive kitchen at the back of the office and out into an alleyway. It was still raining.

He turned right and just a hundred yards along they come to a pair of large doors. He produced a key, opened one door, and stepped through.

Inside was a big, high-ceilinged space. It was dimly lit, but had stall windows and a skylight. The sun had set and the radiance from the moon and stars fell in patterns down on the floor and up the walls.

Thomas crossed to one side of the room. He lit an oil lamp and then a couple of candles.

The illumination revealed a jumble of easels, paints, palettes, brushes and so on, along with many finished and unfinished canvasses.

Thomas got the grappa and some glasses. He cleared some armchairs and a big old sofa of some sketches. “Please, sit.”

“You have some amazing paintings,” said Sebastian carefully. The paintings were abstract, dark, and very bold, in the shades of maroon, scarlet, black, and silver. They were skillfully executed, if not to everyone’s taste.

Thomas continued to talk. “I really do admire Livius. I’m sorry I couldn’t go with him. I’m honored to have called them brothers. As the Brothers of the Yellow Sign, we believe that the trinity of Illiir, Nier, and Larissa are actually other deities, older gods. The parallels are many and obvious.”

Vlad stood up and walked over to one of the paintings. There was a piece of paper pinned to an easel near him. Words and names jump out. One of them was, “The King in Yellow.” It was a description of a planned treatment.

Thomas looked over at Vlad. He stopped talking.

“Is everything all right?” asked Sebastian.

Thomas ran one hand over his face. “Excuse me.”

Thomas got up and started to walk, then rushed towards the door he came in. As he ran he shouted out. “Angel! I bound you and I release you!”

There was an immediate loud thump, as if a dead weight hit the roof.

The door slammed shut. Looking up, something was clearly outlined above the closed skylight.

“Uh oh,” said Vlad.

A moment later it crashed down in a shower of glass.

 

[talien]

Brothers: Part 4 – The Angel

Out of the unimaginable blackness beyond the gangrenous glare of the moonlight, there flopped rhythmically a hybrid, winged thing that no sound eye could ever wholly grasp, or sound brain ever wholly remember. It was not altogether crow, nor mole, nor buzzard, nor ant, nor vampire bat, nor decomposed human being; but something in Sebastian’s mind recoiled at the mere sight. It flopped limply along, half with its webbed feet and half with its membranous wings.

“Byakhee!” shouted Beldin.

“The same one that flew Livius to safety!” shouted Sebastian.

Vlad rammed the double doors and bounced off them. “He locked us in!”

“Good,” Beldin whirled on the thing. “It’s not going to get away this time!” He barreled towards the byakhee.

The byakhee screeched, spraying saliva everywhere as it reared up on its hind legs.

“Meet Windcutter!” shouted Beldin. He whistled the blue-black axe over his head and sliced downwards at the byakhee’s forelimbs. A claw went flying in a spurt of ichor.

Vlad drew a hilt. It flashed to life with a blade of pure energy. The byakhee’s jaws snapped forward, maddened with pain. Vlad plunged the weapon through its skull.

And just like that, it was over. With a gurgling whine, the huge byakhee fell over dead.

“Some angel,” Beldin said with a smirk. “If Umor is your god,” he shouted at the door, “he’ll need to find stronger servants!”

Mist started to seep from under the door. “We’d better get out of here.” Sebastian pointed at the window on the opposite side. “Shall we make a door?”

Beldin smashed through the window. “Follow me.”

 

[talien]

Brothers: Part 5 – Universita Degli Studi

Sebastian led his motley crew of companions through the twisting halls of the Universita degli Studi.

“The one name we have is Roberto Anzalone. He’s a professor in the Department of Letters.”

“So that’s who we’re going to see?” asked Vlad.

Sebastian shook his head. “Professor Anzalone is not at the university. We’re meeting Paulo Bacci, a colleague of Anzalone’s in the History department.” He paused. “Maybe it’s best if you all wait out here.”

It wasn’t every day that a dwarf and a fully armed Milandisian entered a scholar’s quarters.

Sebastian entered Paulo’s office. Paulo was sitting at his desk. Despite Sebastian’s slightly feral features, he an odd sort of charisma that people—not animals—related to.

Paulo was a thin, scholarly type. “Welcome, Mister Arnyal.” He gestured at the chair on the other side of the desk.

“Hello Signori Bacci.” Sebastian used the formal mode of Coryan speech as he seated himself. “I was wondering if you could help me.”

“Yes?”

“I am looking for Roberto Anzalone. He was headed on some sort of expedition?”

“Ah yes, I know Anzalone,” said Paulo. “He left a week ago. They’re heading for the Forbidden Lands, intending to locate the site of Jiwakhar. I suspect he may be gone for six months.”

“Six months.” Sebastian tapped his lips with one finger. “I’m concerned for him. You see, I have evidence to believe that he has fallen in with religious fanatics. Does the name Livius Carbo ring a bell?”

Paulo sat back in his chair, sizing up Sebastian for a moment. “Yes, that does sound familiar. Let me check my papers…”

He pulled out a drawer and rifled through documents. Finally, he pulled a sheet out. “Ah yes. Here it is.” Paulo scanned the documents. “That’s strange. This contradicts what he told me.”

“How so?”

“A graduate student from the university, Carlo Schippone, is actually traveling on an expedition to Nyambe, along with a friend of Professor Anzalone’s.”

“Livius Carbo?”

“Precisely. I think the Emperor had an interest in the expedition too. A centurion, Flavius Claudius Servilius, accompanied the three other men. Please keep that quiet, I should probably not be telling you all this. “

“Your secret is safe with me.” Sebastian rose and shook Paulo’s hand.

“Are you planning to stop him?”

Sebastian paused at the doorway. “We’ve been trying to catch up with Carbo for over a year. If he’s traveling by ship, there’s no way we’ll get to him in time.”

“Nyambe’s on the other side of the world!” said Paulo, incredulous. “Surely his expedition cannot do much harm there.”

“You’d be surprised how small Arcanis really is,” Sebastian said ruefully.

 

[talien]

Brothers: Conclusion

When they returned to the Widow’s Stone, their guide was waiting for them.

“Paulo!” Sebastian said with false enthusiasm. “You seem to have lost track of us.”

“Yes,” Paulo looked embarrassed. “The gentlemen ordered the carriage away with such venom that I went for a wild ride.”

“Not a very good guide,” muttered Beldin.

Paulo cleared his throat. “The dwarf is right, being a guide is just one of my duties, and I’m not very good at it. In truth, I am here to relay a request on behalf of Domina Gracchi.”

“You mean spy on us,” added Sebastian.

Paulo didn’t contradict him. “I represent certain Imperial interests that are concerned with the machinations of the Arch Prelate. A certain friend of yours was assigned to translate an ancient text from the time of the First Imperium detailing an obscure Nierite legion called the Pride of Chendo. For some reason, this legion has some tenuous link to Enpebyn’s past.”

“What friends?” asked Beldin.

“Quintus Aurelius Ignatius,” Paulo responded.

Vlad slapped his forehead. “I never thought what the changes in the Church meant for Quintus! He was both a priest and a legionnaire.”

“A political shift like that can be perilous to a man’s career,” said Beldin. “It’s likely the Emperor didn’t trust Quintus, but not enough to brand him a traitor. So he sent him far away from the Empire.”

Paulo continued. “Quintus set out with a team recently, scouring the Blessed Lands for some proof of this legion’s existence. A few weeks ago, he sent back a message by way of a traveling Ansharan that he had made a significant discovery near the northeastern peaks of the Corlathian Mountains. As you well know, winter has come, and no word from Quintus or his team has surfaced.”

“That doesn’t bode well” said Sebastian.

“Domina Gracchi believes that the Arch Prelate desires the artifacts that Quintus was searching for. She believes that the Arch Prelate is working against the Emperor and the Empire as a whole and is consolidating a power base from which to launch a concerted effort to overthrow the Emperor. These artifacts may hold some key information or power that may allow him to do just that.”

“Quintus would never knowingly betray a trust,” said Vlad. “And if it was in service to the Emperor, he would die before he would let an artifact of that magnitude fall into the wrong hands.”

“Do you even know what these artifacts do?” asked Beldin. “You’re being very vague.”

“Domina Gracchi did not see fit to share that information with me. Should these artifacts be found to be inconsequential and only valuable in a historical context, they will be immediately returned to their rightful owner.”

“Sure they will,” said Sebastian.

“Domina Gracchi wishes to convey that your reputation as resourceful people has been spreading throughout the Empire and that it would be beneficial to have the friendship of a powerful family.”

“I wonder what Kham has to say about all this?”

Paulo looked over his shoulder at the exit from the taverna. “Kham left for Altheria. War is brewing there, and he has left with his mother’s blessing to spread his cousin’s ashes in New Althre.”

Vlad nodded. “Dril mentioned to me that he was leaving for Altheria. Every Altherian citizen has been called back. They’re on the brink of war with the Ssethregorans.”

“We have in place an agent in the Ansharan Shrine,” continued Paulo. “The agent will instruct the Ansharan priest to open a gate directly to Grand Coryan, rather than back here. Upon your arrival with the artifacts, my patron will offer each of you the sum of two thousand Imperials… as well as her favor, whose value is far higher than can be measured in mere coin, I assure you. Can she count on your help?”

“The pursuit of Livius will have to wait.” Beldin put his hand out. “For Quintus.”

Sebastian put his hand on Beldin’s. “For Quintus.”

“For Quintus.” Vlad placed his open palm on both of his companions’. “And two thousand imperials.”

 

[talien]

Chapter 49: Sibling Rivalry - Introduction

This is a Year Three Living Arcanis adventure, “Sibling Rivalry” by Henry Lopez, set in the Arcanis setting. You can read more about Arcanis at Onara Online. Please note: This adventure contains spoilers!

Our cast of characters includes:

• Dungeon Master: Michael Tresca (http://michael.tresca.net)
• Beldin Soulforge (dwarf fighter/dwarven defender) played by Joe Lalumia
• Ilmarė Galen (elf bard/fighter/seeker of the cerulean sign) played by Amber Tresca
• Sebastian Arnyal (dark-kin sorcerer) played by George Webster
• Vlad Martell (human fighter) played by Matt Hammer

This is one of those adventures that feels like a season finale, even though it isn’t. Plenty of former PCs show up, including Calactyte and Quintus. It explains what they’ve been up to and why they haven’t been in contact for some time.

This adventure also kicks off the inevitable conflict in Coryan that will have far-reaching implications, as far as Freeport. War is coming, and it will affect everyone.

I was pleased that this adventure had our most combat-heavy PCs (the sorcerer and two fighters) to go toe-to-toe against war trolls. War trolls are nasty mothers. In case you’re wondering, I classified war trolls as giants for purposes of the dwarf special ability ‘cause…well, because it’s stupid that normal trolls are considered giants but war trolls aren’t. All of the Singarthan trolls were converted from the original adventure, with Warrior Caste trolls becoming war trolls and Arcane Caste trolls becoming regular warmage trolls. It worked out nicely.

 

[talien]

Sibling Rivalry: Prologue

Not long after Paolo Tuminardo left, the door swung open and a figure in a very heavy cloak and hood entered. Small amounts of snow fell from his shoulders as he pulled back his hood.

The face revealed that of a young man, with a thick tangle of black hair and a ready smile that seemed out of place among the dour and no-nonsense people of the Widow’s Stone. Scanning the room, his eyes fall upon Vlad. His infectious smile became even broader.

“Vlad!”

Vlad stood up. “Decimus?”

Decimus walked over to their table.

“Greetings, my friends. For those who do not know of me, I am Decimus -- a humble facilitator. I’m sorry to meet you under such mysterious circumstances, but it would not be seemly to make such my patron travel to meet us.”

Sebastian and Beldin met Decimus with a quizzical look.

“Meet us about what, Decimus?” asked Vlad. “Last we met, you were trading in a contract for your freedom.”

Decimus nodded as he pulled up a chair. “I did indeed, and I was granted that freedom. I work for myself now, but I’m still in the same business.” He smiled again. “Old habits die hard.”

“Who’s your patron?” asked Beldin.

“My patron is a highly placed member of the Beltinian church and would rather keep the subject we are about to discuss from spilling out into the open. I trust I can count on your prudence in this matter?”

Vlad looked at his two companions. “Sure, you can trust us.”

“Besides attending to the spiritual well-being of the good people of Valentia and the Empire, my patron also provides funds for those scholars who delve into the ancient past and seek out knowledge and artifacts from eras long since gone. He is very interested in Quintus’ recent work.”

“We’ve heard of his expedition,” said Sebastian. “And we’ve also heard that he hasn’t been back.”

“I have already sent out a search party to discover the whereabouts of the second team, but I need you to find Quintus, secure his safety, and if he is close to making his discovery, assist him if at all possible.”

“We were going after him already,” said Vlad. “The Gracchi family is—“

“The Gracchi?” Decimus looked horrified.

“Yes, what’s wrong?”

“The Gracchi are one of the noble vassal human families of the val’Assante’ family. The family is quite prominent in Imperial politics, having not one but two of its members serving in the Imperial Senate. The Gracchi have a reputation for being shrewd, cunning and ruthless in their dealings.”

“So?” asked Beldin.

“The Gracchi matriarch, Luca Gracchi, is a personal friend and confidant of the Emperor. Her involvement may mean that the Emperor himself is interested in these artifacts.”

“Then we’d better get going.” Vlad kicked back his chair. “We’ll find him and let you know what we discover.”

“Good.” Decimus offered a document to Sebastian. “This writ will bring you back over the mountains. Just present it to the priests at the Shrine.”

Sebastian took the writ and added it to the one Paolo Tuminardo had given to him on behalf of the Gracchi family.

“Time is of the essence. You’ll need to be ready to leave in the next few hours. Though evening has fallen, there are still a few merchants open where you can purchase winter clothing and any other gear you may need. I will meet you at the Ansharan Temple in the city in three hours.”

“We’ll be there,” said Sebastian.”

With a slight nod of his head, Decimus departed.

Beldin crossed his arms. “I don’t trust either of them.”

“Me neither,” said Sebastian.

“Maybe we should find Quintus first before we worry about who we hand him over to.” Vlad rose. “Let’s go.”

 

[talien]

Sibling Rivalry: Part 1 – The Shrine of Anshar

An Ansharan priestess, wearing the plain robes of her order, stood before the Gate.

“Stand before the opening,” she said imperiously.

The dwarf, the dark-kin, and the Milandisian lined up in front of it.

“Are any of you carrying an excess of blastpowder? We can store it for you, for a fee.”

Sebastian smirked. “Kham’s not with us today, so no.”

Intoning the ancient ritual of benediction and supplication to Anshar, the priestess made a nearly imperceptible gesture towards the portal. The glyphs inscribed upon it began to glow with a life of their own.

Within seconds, a pinpoint of blue light appeared and instantly erupted outward, filling the Gate’s central opening with a soothing blue glow. Howling winds blew through the opening. Yelling so that she could be heard, the straining priestess told them to leap through.

As soon as they broke the plane, the light weaved itself through their bodies, a feeling of euphoria. In the blink of an eye, the impossible journey was over.

They arrived in a chamber lit only by a half dozen smoky and oily torches. Behind them, a Gate of Anshar stood silent and cold; no indication of their passage was evident.

“Well, that was more pleasant than the Ssethregoran gates,” muttered Sebastian.

The Gate appeared different from the ones they had seen previously, looking more antiquated and rougher. Gone was the polished marble, replaced instead by a darker stone.

A being wearing the same threadbare robes of the clergy of Anshar approached with arms outspread in a gesture of welcome. Wrapped around his left hand was the ever-present thorn vine, holy symbol of the Ansharan priesthood.

“Welcome to the Blessed Shrine of Anshar, pilgrims,” he said. “I am Ney. Know that here your woes and wailing hearts are songs of supplication to the Suffering Goddess. All have an allotment of misery that must be endured before traveling through to the Paradise promised to us by the Gods. Anshar gives us the opportunity to wash away this debt now rather than having us boil in Beltine’s eternal cauldron.”

“It’s good to see the clerisy of the Goddess of Outcasts and the Unwanted accommodates even dark-kin,” said Sebastian with a slight smile. Unlike other priests of Anshar, Ney’s skin was milky white and crisscrossed with black spider web markings.

“All are welcome, but a small donation from the faithful is asked so that our work here may continue.”

Each of them made a donation of a few imperials.

“Do you know if a legionnaire named Quintus came through here?

“I knew that he did,” said Ney. “It was another priest, Torric, who traded with them. He is in the Shrine and should be able to help you.”

As they passed, Ney smiled and make a special show of welcoming Beldin. “Humanity, in all its various forms, could learn much from you, noble dwarf.”

Beldin hesitated. “That is very kind of you.”

“No one,” said Ney, “knows more of suffering and pain than the dwarves.”

Ney called to one of the members of the Legion of Grim Lamentation that stood guard outside the chamber and they were escorted to Torric.

 

[talien]

Sibling Rivalry: Part 2 – The Altar of Suffering

They were led by the legionnaire into another dimly lit chamber. Central to it was a large marble statue of a woman in obvious agony, enwrapped by twin thorned vines that dug into her flesh. Her face looked upward to the heavens as if in supplication and her mouth was open in a silent scream.

Arrayed about the statue was a small group of kneeling pilgrims. A priest intoned a prayer and the faithful about the statue whipped their backs in time to the cadence of his song. The legionnaire motioned for the priest to come over. Another priest slid into his place and the ritual continued without skipping a beat.

“Are you Torric?” asked Sebastian.

“I am.” He was obviously a half-orc.

“Have you been to Quintus Aurelius Ignatius’ campsite recently?

“I have. I was there a few weeks ago. The campsite is a day and a half’s travel from the Shrine on foot. Do you require an escort?”

“That would be wonderful, are you available?”

“I am. Unfortunately, this will have to wait until morning as the bizarre weather of the Blessed Lands has struck and the Red Snow, has been raging outside since sunset. These storms usually only last through the night; we should be able to head out in the morning.”

Beldin sighed. “Then I guess we’re stuck here.”

“I can offer you accommodations in the dormitory on the second floor for a small donation of fifty imperials each.”

“That seems awfully expensive,” muttered Vlad.

“If you do not have the funds, you can wait in the common room for free.”

“Well take a look first and then decide,” said Vlad.

“Is there a place to eat around here?” asked Beldin. “I’m starving.”

“Right this way,” said Torric.

 

[talien]

Sibling Rivalry: Part 3 – The Dining Area

The large room was half-filled with members of the faithful eating a frugal meal. On the far side of the chamber area were a few Ansharans tending a large simmering pot from which porridge was served to a line of waiting pilgrims.

Beldin licked his lips. “Good, food. I’m hungry.”

The room was subdued, with only minimal conversation and the clatter of wooden spoons scraping against bowls to accompany the muttered moans of pain coming from the next room.

Beldin got in line to partake of the evening meal. When it was his turn, he discovered it was watered down gruel.

They sat at the table while they consumed the soup.

“This is disgusting.” Vlad made a face.

Sebastian slurped his gruel. “While it may appear unappealing and tasteless, it’s quite nutritious.”

Vlad looked around in search of a better meal. He stared over Beldin’s shoulder. “Ilmarė?”

They all turned around. Ilmarė was sitting at a table by herself, staring with obvious distaste at her bowl. Her head snapped up at the sound of her name.

All three of them walked over to her table. The elorii stared up at them with her usual cold gaze. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s good to see you’re well, Ilmarė!” said Vlad. He almost stepped forward to hug her but hesitated. “Are you recovered?”

The elorii rolled her eyes. “Obviously.”

Sebastian cleared his throat. “I’m…sorry about that business—“

“With my sister?” Ilmarė sighed. “She was sick. She will be reborn in a new life, a better life.”

Sebastian rummaged through his belt pouch. “Anulee asked me to give this to you.” He handed her the wrapped item; he had never opened it.

They stood around in uncomfortable silence.

“Are you going to stand there looking foolish or will you sit down?”

They sat down.

“I came here with Ilovios, a Marokene.” It was obvious from the way Ilmarė said the elorii’s name that she disliked her. “We were about to go our separate ways when the storm hit.”

“What are you doing here?” asked Vlad.

“Looking for Quintus,” Ilmarė said frankly. “I had heard he was on an expedition to find an artifact. Such a momentous discovery should not be left to humans alone.”

Sebastian smirked but kept his opinions about Ilmarė’s true intentions to himself. “We’re searching for him as well. I’m exhausted, so I’m retiring to bed.” He got up from the table; Beldin and Vlad followed.

Ilmarė continued to contemplate her bowl. “Do what you wish. I will finish my meal.”

Once they had all left, Ilmarė opened the package. It was a pin with a motif of a gliding bird.

The elorii pinned the brooch to her cloak. “Umor will pay for what he did to you, Anulee.”