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<blockquote data-quote="Delemental" data-source="post: 3561601" data-attributes="member: 5203">Divide and ConquerWell, after a long delay, here's the latest update!----------------------&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “What is our status, General?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Togusa stood and bowed before giving his report.&nbsp; “Duchy forces stand at seventy percent of normal, thanks to heavy recruiting.&nbsp; However, we are still desperately short on officers, engineers, and support personnel.&nbsp; It is unlikely that we will be able to fill many of these positions, and the state of the duchy’s treasury is such that it would be difficult to build our general forces further without reducing relief efforts elsewhere.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Autumn nodded, trying to keep the melancholy she felt at the news from reaching her face.&nbsp; “Thank you, General.&nbsp; And what of the tactical situation inside Vargas?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; This question was addressed by a pale, aging wizard in parchment-colored robes that matched his skin, someone Autumn didn’t recognize at first. Tazlin Mohere, Autumn remembered.&nbsp; He’s the head of the Mage’s Guild.&nbsp; He and his wife were at my wedding.&nbsp; His name was on the list of people that Arrie had said might try to assassinate her.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Work progresses slowly on containing the area of the city you refer to as the ‘Nightmare Realm’, Tazlin began.&nbsp; “Our initial experiments on your suggestion of incorporating the alchemical compound unguentum phasmatis, commonly known as ghost oil, into the mortar of newly-constructed stone walls proved unsuccessful, as the mortar itself refused to set properly.&nbsp; We believe the compound could be modified into a form of lacquer or paint and used to coat the outer surface of a wall, but this would likely only deter lesser incursions, and would be an inconsequential barrier to a significant breach.&nbsp; Of course, the most foolproof method is to surround the affected area with permanent walls of force.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “All right,” Autumn said, “what’s the catch?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “The ‘catch’, as you put it, is that there are few practitioners of the arcane arts loyal to the duchy who have the skill required to perform this incantation, and of those that exist, few are willing to risk the spell with the current instabilities in the flow of magic.&nbsp; Those who are willing to try are, quite properly, demanding a significant increase in the usual fees that would be charged for such an enchantment, given its demand on an arcanist’s own life force.&nbsp; And with some of the members of my guild being diverted to the site of the other incursion…”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Other incursion?” Autumn blurted out.&nbsp; “There’s nothing dangerous about the Fields of Love!”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Not overtly so, no.&nbsp; However, there has been an increasing problem in the city of losing citizens with valuable skills to the temptations of this particular region and its… unusual influences.&nbsp; Compounding the problem is that beings native to this region have begun wandering out of the incursion zone into the rest of the city, beings who are apparently able to create the same sorts of influences in those they encounter.&nbsp; We can attribute at least one death to an entity from the Fields of Love – a bricklayer who apparently took in one of these creatures for his personal pleasure.&nbsp; So much pleasure, apparently, that he neglected to feed himself for several weeks.&nbsp; I’m told the grin on the face of the corpse was quite unnerving.&nbsp; So we have sent some of our wizards out to locate these creatures and deal with them as well.&nbsp; Our primary fear is that an entity from the Fields of Love might end up entering the Nightmare Realm, and we do not like the implications inherent in that particular combination.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Autumn shuddered involuntarily at the thought.&nbsp; “Point taken, Tazlin.&nbsp; Do what you can to convince your people to keep at it, and we will do what we can to give them the support they need.”&nbsp; Bail knows where I’ll find it, though.&nbsp; She’d devoted a large chunk of her personal fortune into getting the city back on its feet, and had squeezed every noble and merchant she could find for more gold.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “It might be of some help if we could confer with your husband, the Court Wizard,” Tazlin said.&nbsp; “He is currently the closest thing we have to an expert on the subject of this Dream Realm, and his insights might prove useful to us.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “The Duke-Consort is away at the moment,” he didn’t say where he was going, or why, or how long he’d been gone, “attending to other affairs of state.”&nbsp; Or off getting himself killed, or having a nervous breakdown.&nbsp; “When he returns, I will deliver your request.” Right after I beat him to a pulp.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Autumn heard other reports from Auror and her other advisors, none of them encouraging.&nbsp; Refugees swelled the city walls, depleting food stores rapidly.&nbsp; Crime was up, tax collection was down.&nbsp; Crop yields were expected to be poor this year, due to a combination of land lost to the Taurics or the Dream Realm overlays, and farmers killed by the war or the Dream Realm incursion.&nbsp; The Imperial army had withdrawn to Noxolt to aid in relief and reconstruction efforts in the capital, leaving only ducal forces under her command.&nbsp; And a private report, given to her by her spymaster, confirmed for Autumn what Arrie had warned her about weeks ago; that some of the noble families, both inside and outside of Vargex, were making plans to use the current chaos to improve their position.&nbsp; King Tanach of Erumian had already survived an assassination attempt.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Rubbing her temples, Autumn dismissed her spymaster and slumped down in her chair the moment he was gone.&nbsp; She felt numb, drained of all emotion.&nbsp; The urge to pack up her things and simply run gnawed at her soul, but she forced herself to shove those thoughts aside.&nbsp; There was too much of that going on in her home as it was.&nbsp; More than anything, she felt alone.&nbsp; Everyone had gone their separate ways after their return from the Dream Realm, recognizing that there were several tasks best accomplished if they split up.&nbsp; Arrie was wandering around Affon, checking up on family and friends.&nbsp; Tolly had gone to Medos to brief the Divinity Council and urge them into action.&nbsp; Lanara had been summoned to Noxolt by the Emperor himself, no doubt to help him negotiate with the Tauric Empire.&nbsp; Osborn was somewhere in Targeth, or what was left of it, attending to business there.&nbsp; And Kyle…&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Where are you, Kyle?” she asked herself quietly.&nbsp; “When are you coming home?”*&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Kyle arrived in the woods just east of Aleppi, the journey here significantly easier than it had been the first time.&nbsp; He chose to walk to the little logging village of Canyon Camp, since he didn’t know how they’d react to him just appearing in the middle of the village.&nbsp; When Kyle arrived, his presence caused little commotion among the villagers.&nbsp; Loggers, he thought, hard to rattle them.&nbsp; No one seemed to recognize him as he passed through, except for one person.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; He had trouble placing the name when he first saw the elf-touched woman running up to him, her deer-antler headdress bobbing up and down slightly.&nbsp; She stopped a respectful distance away.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “You’re the wizard, Kyle, aren’t you?” she said.&nbsp; “Welcome back to Canyon Camp.”&nbsp; She saw the blank look on his face, and smiled.&nbsp; “Priestess Sisz.&nbsp; I’m not surprised you have trouble recalling my name.&nbsp; I’m afraid I didn’t make much of an impression on people back then.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Trust me, I know the feeling.&nbsp; Still having problems with that Rovenori priest?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Who, Kath?&nbsp; He left about a year ago.&nbsp; Hard to keep the priest of a god of travelers in one spot for long.&nbsp; But I wouldn’t say I ever had problems with him – he was just never one for mutual respect.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Another feeling I’ve known,” Kyle said.Sisz smiled. “So, what brings you here?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Curiosity,” Kyle replied.&nbsp; “I was hoping to ask someone about the shadar-kai.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Sisz’s face darkened.&nbsp; “What would you want with them?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Information.&nbsp; I have a theory relating to the recent troubles around Aelfenn with the Dr… with these strange creatures that have been showing up.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Well, I doubt you’ll get much out of them,” Sisz said.&nbsp; “They’re an unpleasant bunch of fey.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Kyle’s brow furrowed.&nbsp; “Have there been problems?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “No, not really,” she said looking away into the forest, in the direction of the shadar-kai territory.&nbsp; “They’ve held to their end of our agreement, and haven’t attacked our people.&nbsp; For the most part they keep to themselves.&nbsp; When we do have to interact with them, though, they’re generally arrogant and hostile.&nbsp; I doubt there’s anyone in town who could give you any information better than that.”&nbsp; She looked up at Kyle.&nbsp; “Do you think they’re responsible for these creatures?&nbsp; We haven’t seen any here, but we’ve heard tales.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Not responsible, but possibly related,” Kyle said.&nbsp; “It looks like I’m going to have to do it the hard way.”&nbsp; He sighed, then turned his attention to the town.&nbsp; “Everything here is the same, I take it?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Heavy demand for timber because of the war,” Sisz said.&nbsp; “But normal.&nbsp; Is it true that the Tauric army has retreated now that the Many have come to Affon to fight on our behalf?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Kyle bit his lip.&nbsp; “The war is currently in a cease-fire,” he said carefully, “until everyone can figure out what exactly is going on.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “I’m thinking of making a pilgrimage to M’Dos,” Sisz said.&nbsp; “The opportunity to actually see Bles in person is the chance of a lifetime.&nbsp; For all we know, maybe the eleven Paragons will return as well!”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Or one of them, anyway,” Kyle muttered darkly.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “What was that?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Nothing.&nbsp; So, is the Whistling Satyr still around?&nbsp; I’d like a room for the night before I set off.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “I’ll walk you there,” Sisz said.&nbsp; “Where will you be going in the morning?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “To the standing stones,” Kyle said.&nbsp; “To talk to the shadar-kai.”
*&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Tolly walked along the dry, dusty road, his armor flashing in the spring sun.&nbsp; He made his way toward the small town at a steady but unhurried pace; even though he was wanting to make good time to his destination, he knew that today he would not accomplish this.&nbsp; Normally he would be traveling under the effect of an air walk spell, and would probably have finished the trip in three or four days.&nbsp; But he’d gone on foot the past two days; somehow the concept of flying through the air during the Earthturning festival seemed… sacrilegious.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; His announcement to his brothers in M’Dos at the Cathedral of Eminent Order that he would not be staying there for the upcoming festival had met with a variety of responses.&nbsp; Of course, his demotion from his previous position as Inquisitor Primus was well known, and many simply assumed that this decision was part of whatever heresy he’d performed that had caused him to lose that title.&nbsp; Others assumed he was on some sort of special mission for the Archprelate, or the Alliance.&nbsp; The truth was that he just needed to get out of the city, and these days he no longer felt as strongly as he once did about spending Earthturning among fellow Ardarans.&nbsp; His faith did not require company to remain strong.&nbsp; Apparently, Kupa held a similar opinion; he’d flown off just before Earthturning had started, saying that he had his own observances to make, and that he would meet up with Tolly at his destination.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; He’d spent the past four weeks in M’Dos, conferring with the Divinity Council about the current situation.&nbsp; Or at least, that’s what he’d intended, but since conferring requires the active participation of both sides, he’d probably have to describe what he’d been doing as lecturing.&nbsp; The Council, true to form, was wrapped up in their own affairs and seemed to pay the Ardaran priest and his stories about a ‘Dream Realm’ and ‘returning arch-psions’ little heed.&nbsp; On some level, Tolly could hardly blame them – after all, it wasn’t every day that the Divinity Council had to deal with the issue of having their deities living among them.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Several of the Many had taken refuge within their own temples in M’Dos, and this had thrown the city, indeed the entire country, into disorder.&nbsp; There were questions of leadership and authority, with some saying that the representatives of the Council should step aside in favor of their deific patrons.&nbsp; Duties and responsibilities were being shirked as clergy flocked to the temples to receive wisdom directly from their gods.&nbsp; And the city was now choked with pilgrims, hoping for a glimpse of the divine before they set off to war.&nbsp; For it was a widely held belief that the Many had descended to Affon to join the war against the Taurics, a belief that was still being propagated by the churches.&nbsp; After all, it was reasoned, only the One and the Four were worshipped among the Taurics, which was why those gods could not be accounted for; but the Many were Affon’s gods, and would fight to defend it.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; With so much chaos in the air, it was small wonder that Tolly found M’Dos ill-suited for reverence to Ardara.&nbsp; You’re dwelling too much on the problems behind you, he told himself.&nbsp; Focus your thoughts on something more pleasant.&nbsp; Focus your thoughts on Her.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Immediately, an image of sparkling blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair entered his mind.&nbsp; With more effort that he thought it would require, he dismissed the errant thought.&nbsp; That wasn’t the Her he’d meant.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Within an hour, Tolly was entering the town.&nbsp; It was a small trading community, close to the border with the Khag Steppes, and so he wasn’t surprised to find a few hin running around.&nbsp; But most of the town’s population seemed to be gathering around the central square, surrounding a small wooden platform.&nbsp; Tolly wandered up to the crowd, remaining in the back.&nbsp; On the platform was a figure wearing magistrate’s robes and another in common clothing, standing next to an earthenware vessel.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Tolly was very familiar with this ritual. On the second day of Earthturning, the names of every convicted criminal in the community was inscribed on clay tokens, and these tokens, along with a few blank tokens, were mixed into a clay vessel.&nbsp; The local Ardaran priest, or local magistrate, would draw a single token from the vessel.&nbsp; According to the Ardaran church, the name drawn would be that of a criminal who was wrongly convicted, and this person would immediately be pardoned and set free.&nbsp; If a blank token was drawn, then it meant that all who were currently convicted of crimes had been jailed lawfully.&nbsp; Tolly knew that even though the Archprelates had sworn that Ardara’s Mercy was infallible, many communities opted to ‘forget’ to scribe tokens for the most serious and violent offenders.&nbsp; He wasn’t quite sure what the role of the second person on the platform was; normally the priest or magistrate presided over the ceremony alone.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; The magistrate had started speaking, and the crowd grew quiet. “And now that Ardara has bestowed her mercy upon this man,” he indicated the commoner standing next to him, “the task falls to him to choose who Ardara shall Judge.”&nbsp; The commoner reached into the vessel and began rummaging around.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Tolly watched carefully, now understanding more.&nbsp; He’d heard rumors of this particular variation of the Ardara’s Mercy ceremony, something that had sprung up in outlying communities in recent years.&nbsp; He was surprised to see it in Medos, even this far from the capital.&nbsp; According to what he’d heard, Ardara’s Judgment was performed after Ardara’s Mercy, and the name drawn was supposed to indicate the name of a person who was guilty of an undiscovered crime.&nbsp; The church had not taken an official position on the practice yet, as the practice varied widely. The rumors about the ritual were indicating that it was often accurate, so if the Prelate Council did act on it, it would most likely be to standardize the practice.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; The man had grabbed on to a token, and now held it aloft for all to see.&nbsp; When the cheers dies down, he handed the token to the magistrate.&nbsp; The magistrate glanced at the token, frowned, and spoke quietly to the man with him.&nbsp; The crowd quickly grew impatient.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “There has been an error,” the magistrate finally announced.&nbsp; “The name that has been drawn is not valid.&nbsp; Another token will be drawn.”&nbsp; The man reached into the vessel again, this time producing a token right away that he handed over to the magistrate as though it was on fire.&nbsp; A dark look crossed the magistrate’s face as he looked at the second token.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Captain!” he shouted to a guardsman standing nearby, “I thought you had verified the accuracy of these tokens!”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “I did, Your Honor,” he man said.&nbsp; “Checked them myself this morning.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Then how do you explain this?” The magistrate thrust the two tokens into the captain’s hands.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “They both say ‘Silko’,” the captain gasped aloud.&nbsp; “But… that’s impossible…”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “I’m sure it is, because I think that if the Paragon of Heroes was currently in our jail, I would know about it,” snapped the magistrate.&nbsp; “Another name will be drawn, and there will be an inquiry into this mockery of Ardara on her holiest days.”&nbsp; The magistrate himself thrust his hand into the jar and pulled out a token.&nbsp; And then another.&nbsp; Then another.&nbsp; His face grew blacker with each token he read.&nbsp; Finally, with a cry of rage, the magistrate tipped over the vessel, and clay tokens scattered everywhere.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Whoever is responsible for this travesty will be caught and punished for their crime!&nbsp; This ceremony is over!”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; The confused and slightly nervous crowd began to disperse.&nbsp; Slowly, Tolly made his way up to the platform, and looked down at the pile of broken tokens, all of which bore the same name.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Your will be done, Ardara, he prayed silently.&nbsp; If I have anything to say about it, then the judgment you have proclaimed will come to pass.
*&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; To my friends in the Legacy,&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; I’ve struggled for a while on how to bring you this news.&nbsp; My first instinct, of course, is to compose a ballad about it.&nbsp; However, with all of us scattered Feesha knows where across this continent, it wouldn’t be very practical to get you all together for a concerto.&nbsp; And I don’t think any of you read musical notation, so that wouldn’t work well.&nbsp; Even if you could, there would be the question of what style of notation to use.&nbsp; While Elvish notation would seem the simplest choice, the nature of the song would probably go best with dwarven melodic rune-script.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; But I digress, as is my nature.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; In the end, I think that rather than write five separate letters and track each of you down, it’s better to write one and leave it at the one place you will all be coming back to eventually – Autumn’s home in Vargas.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; I say ‘you will be coming back’ instead of ‘we will be coming back’ for one simple reason – I will not be seeing you for a while.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; I have been designated as the chief negotiator for the Alliance and placed directly under Emperor Haxtha.&nbsp; Putting aside my talent for innuendo for the moment, this means that for all intents and purposes I am an Imperial official, at least for the time being.&nbsp; I’ve been charged with opening a dialogue with the leaders of the Tauric Empire in the hopes of negotiating a more permanent arrangement.&nbsp; I’m not exactly sure how I’ll do this – even I’m not good enough to convince them that turning around and going back to a devastated continent is a good idea – but I’m sure I’ll think of something.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; I could have turned this offer down.&nbsp; But the truth is that this is what I’m good at, and right now I badly need a dose of self-confidence.&nbsp; But part of my price for agreeing to this position is to receive some additional training in some skills I’ve neglected – if part of my problem is feeling like I’m not as useful to you as I could be, then I guess it’s up to me to step outside my comfort zone and fix that problem.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; I have every intention of coming back to you as soon as I can – I’m not pulling a Madrone here.&nbsp; But until I can come back and allow you all to once again bask in the glory of my presence, I’ll leave you with some words of wisdom.&nbsp; (Yes, Tolly, I am capable of it when the occasion calls).&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Actually, Tolly, I may as well start with you.&nbsp; There are some old issues in your life that aren’t as resolved as you think they are.&nbsp; I’m not even sure you’re fully aware of it yourself.&nbsp; If it ever comes down to it, trust that things will work out as they were meant to, and resist the urge to meddle.&nbsp; Hopefully, this advice will never make any sense to you, because the situation will never come up.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Arrie, I really don’t have much I need to say to you.&nbsp; You seem to have pulled yourself together quite a bit since we left the Dream Realm, so I guess I don’t have to find a polite and creative way of saying ‘don’t go crazy and kill us all’.&nbsp; I know you only have four years left before your deal with Herion expires and you have to go back to being a full-time princess – make the most of them.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Kyle, you worry me.&nbsp; I think you take on too much guilt, too much responsibility for what’s happened.&nbsp; Maybe it’s the burden of an overactive conscience, I don’t know.&nbsp; But there’s nothing that I or anyone else can do to stop you going down the road you’re looking down.&nbsp; No one but you.&nbsp; You really don’t want to go down that road, Kyle, and you know it.&nbsp; Don’t realize it after it’s too late.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Autumn, the one thing I’d tell you is to remind you that you can’t control everything.&nbsp; And that sometimes the best way to handle a situation is to do nothing.&nbsp; Stick with your strengths, but realize that you have more strengths than you give yourself credit for.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Osborn – it seems like you have things well in hand, or at least as well as they can get these days.&nbsp; My thoughts will be winging their way to you while I’m gone.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Take care of yourselves, and I’ll see you soon.&nbsp; Hopefully at the head of a parade in my honor.Lanara Rahila*&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Arrie walked slowly among the teeming throngs of people in the refugee camp, her eyes scanning the many blank faces staring back at her.&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; It had been a depressing trip so far.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; She’d started by returning to her birthplace, the kingdom of Merlion.&nbsp; Damen and Corissane, her cousins, were still seated comfortably on the thrones of the kingdom; their small realm was too insignificant in the eyes of most nobles in Tlaxan to make good targets.&nbsp; Her brother Aiden was also still in his position as the twins’ steward, and appeared to be juggling his responsibilities to them and his responsibilities as the Lord Verahannen fairly well.&nbsp; With nothing concerning going on, Arrie left quickly, so that her family would not be unduly burdened with the responsibility of ‘receiving a member of the Imperial Family’.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; In another four years, they may come to see me as nothing more than ‘a member of the Imperial Family’, she thought glumly.&nbsp; Though she was glad that her family was well, she couldn’t help but think about the father she’d lost, and would never see again.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; She’d headed south next, across the Dwarven Confederates and into the Khag Steppes, looking for signs of her next target.&nbsp; Along the way she’d spoken to many people, and learned much about what they believed or were being told about recent events.&nbsp; She’d also had the occasion to defend herself or others against marauding dream-creatures, and was beginning to gain a disturbingly good sense of how to fight these anomalies.&nbsp; Still, she’d only come out of some of those scrapes by the skin of her teeth.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Death is but another step on the journey, she’d reminded herself, her mind leaving out the part about how for her that step would likely be the last.&nbsp; Down that road lay doubt, and fear, and madness.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; She’d finally found what she was looking for – the Amazing Traveling Circus.&nbsp; Or, what was left of it.&nbsp; She learned that the circus troupe had largely dispersed when the war broke out, with many of them going to join the Hin Irregulars fighting for the Alliance.&nbsp; Only a few had returned, and many of those were wounded.&nbsp; Osborn’s mother, Lillian, was there, healing from a wound in her thigh.&nbsp; Her husband, Bartlebee, had not come back from the war, and Osborn’s twin brother Gerald had been missing for months.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Arrie fought back tears as she felt the weight of the dagger she had stashed inside her boot.&nbsp; “It was Barty’s favorite,” Lillan had told her, “and I think he would’ve wanted Osborn to have it.&nbsp; He was always proud of his son.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; She paused for a moment to clear her head and refocus.&nbsp; She was now leagues away from the Steppes, and looking for someone else.&nbsp; She returned her attention to the crowds surrounding her.&nbsp; The stench of the camp was nearly overpowering; like all the others she’d been in, this one was overcrowded and poorly organized.&nbsp; Off to her left, she saw an older woman spooning gruel into the mouth of a vacant-eyed, drooling man in tattered robes.&nbsp; She recognized him as one of the wizard instructors from the Tower, no doubt a victim of one of the magical mishaps that now plagued practitioners of magic across Aelfenn.&nbsp; Arrie briefly imagined seeing an incoherent Kyle sitting on the ground, rocking as he was cared for by Autumn.&nbsp; She forced the image out of her mind, more unnerved by the thought than she cared to admit.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; She was about to give up and move on when she caught sight of someone that struck a chord with her.&nbsp; She studied the face for a moment to be sure, and then she cautiously approached.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; The man was in his early sixties, and bore the scars and weight of a hard life.&nbsp; Thick, callused hands ended in nails that were filled with dirt Arrie imagined would never fully wash away.&nbsp; His sunken cheeks bore the mark of many lean winters, but there was still a spark in his blue-gray eyes.&nbsp; He looked up at her through a mane of graying hair when he saw she was watching him.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Is your name Rufus?” she asked.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Ayup,” he replied in a heavy rural drawl.&nbsp; “What’s it to you?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “I need you to come with me,” Arrie said.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Rufus looked her up and down.&nbsp; “Well,” he said at last, “I’m guessin’ you ain’t a whore, ‘cuz they don’t needs to come out lookin’ for business round here.&nbsp; Judging by what yer packin’, I reckon yer either a slaver or a recruiter.&nbsp; I ain’t much interested in either.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “I’m not a slaver or a recruiter,” Arrie replied.&nbsp; “My name is Ariadne, and I’m from Tlaxan.&nbsp; I’ve come to take you there.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; He looked her up and down again.&nbsp; “You’ve got the bearin’ of a noble,” he said.&nbsp; “If you’re looking to slum it with the commoners, ain’t you got enough back home?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Arrie controlled her breathing.&nbsp; Rufus was proving to be as infuriating as his progeny. “Look, I’d rather not explain it all here,” she said.&nbsp; “So let me make this simple.”&nbsp; She reached into a pocket and pulled out two gold coins, holding them so only Rufus could see them.&nbsp; “I want to get you out of this camp,” she said slowly.&nbsp; “And somewhere where you can get a proper meal and I can explain why I came to find you.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Rufus looked at the coins, and then at Arrie.&nbsp; Slowly, he stood up, his joints and tendons popping as he rose.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Well,” he drawled, “you got my attention, miss Ariadne.”
*&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; He knelt inside the circle of standing stones, and focused his awareness on his surroundings.&nbsp; If you’re not here, then where are you? Kyle thought, as he studied the air around him.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; He’d searched for two days, and found no trace of the shadar-kai.&nbsp; He’d found their village, the simple dwellings abandoned and empty.&nbsp; But not a sign of the elusive fey could be found.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; After several minutes, Kyle caught his first glimpse of a lingering magical aura, near the center of the circle.&nbsp; Concentrating harder, Kyle looked for more flickers of magic, hoping to confirm his suspicions.&nbsp; Slowly, the picture came into focus.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; A magical ritual was performed here, he thought as he studied the evidence.&nbsp; A very large one.&nbsp; Conjuration magic… they either brought something here or…no, they sent something away.&nbsp; Lots of somethings…&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; He was pretty sure what had happened.&nbsp; The shadar-kai had performed some sort of ceremony to return to whatever dimension they’d been hiding in for all the millennia since the Cataclysm.&nbsp; A place, as he recalled Lanara telling them when they’d come here three years ago, that was ‘nowhere’, a place that ‘didn’t exist’.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; It was this phrase that had caught in his mind as he’d been thinking about everything they’d learned over the years about their enemies.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Kyle could think of one plane that could be considered ‘nowhere’ and was thought to ‘not exist’.&nbsp; That plane was currently impinging itself all over Aelfenn, and tentacled horrors from that nowhere were rampaging through the land.&nbsp; It was possible, he thought, that the shadar-kai had somehow accessed the Dream Realm after the Cataclysm, hiding there to avoid the aftermath of that event.&nbsp; Perhaps they had even gone there to hide from the gods as they engaged in their crusade against the psions after the Consort’s destruction.&nbsp; Although the concept of a psionically-endowed race of fey was largely inconceivable, given their usual propensity for arcane magic, with everything Kyle had seen in the past four years, he wasn’t willing to rule anything out.&nbsp; But if, in fact, the shadar-kai had come from Dream, then his primary interest was in finding out as much as possible about that realm, and about those psions who utilized it.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Beads of sweat trickled down Kyle’s forehead as he bent his effort to teasing out the most difficult piece of information from the scant remnants of magical power.&nbsp; “Definitely an extra-planar destination,” he said aloud to himself.&nbsp; “Not a planet… what’s that… it looks like…”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; The answer clicked into place with the solidity of a door slamming shut.&nbsp; Shadow.&nbsp; The shadar-kai had gone to the Shadow Plane, which was most likely the very place they’d gone all those years ago.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Damn!” Kyle swore, rising to his feet and stomping around the circle of stones.&nbsp; “Son of a bitch!”&nbsp; He stomped to the center of the circle and screamed at the top of his lungs as he released weeks of pent-up rage.&nbsp; He turned and stomped off, still swearing, kicking at the large stones surrounding the clearing.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; There was a fluttering of wings, and a large raven settled on a nearby branch.&nbsp; “Um, boss?” the raven said, “you do realize you’re all alone out here, right?&nbsp; Calm down.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Kyle whirled to face Violet.&nbsp; “Don’t tell me to calm down!&nbsp; This was the last thing I could think of to track Silko’s people down!&nbsp; Nothing I’ve tried in the past six weeks has worked!&nbsp; All of the psions I know about are warded against divinations, and so is that he-bitch Marrek!”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Violet did not respond to Kyle’s tirade.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “I mean, it’s not exactly like you’ve made any good suggestions!&nbsp; The only idea I have left is using live bait, and I’m not exactly eager to dangle myself on a hook for Kristyan and his ilk!”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Then why don’t you ask someone else?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Right, like I’d put anyone else in that position!&nbsp; What kind of person do you think I am?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “That’s not what I meant, boss.&nbsp; I meant ask about where the psions are.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Ask about where the psions are?&nbsp; Silko and his people aren’t exactly in the habit of making friends on the surface world.&nbsp; Who would you suggest I ask?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Kyle stared up at Violet.&nbsp; Slowly, the flush in his cheeks faded.&nbsp; He walked over and extended his hand.&nbsp; Violet flapped her wings and settled on Kyle’s shoulder.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Things didn’t go according to plan, I take it?” she asked.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “No, they didn’t.”&nbsp; He sighed.&nbsp; “And clearly, I’m no longer in a state of mind to keep this up.&nbsp; I guess I should just go back to Vargas and let them know I’ve got nothing to show for my efforts.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Don’t give up hope, boss,” Violet said.&nbsp; “Maybe the answer will come to you in a dream or something like that.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Kyle laughed mirthlessly.&nbsp; “I’m not sure I really want anything from dreams right now, Violet.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Suit yourself.”&nbsp; The raven pecked at Kyle’s hair.&nbsp; “Wood tick,” she said, swallowing the tiny insect.&nbsp; “Say, if you don’t need me, there’s a rather lovely dead raccoon off yonder…”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Have a blast,” Kyle said.&nbsp; “Don’t be gone long.&nbsp; I’m heading back to town and we’re leaving after supper.&nbsp; Some of us can’t live on carrion.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; After Violet flew off, Kyle looked around at the stone circle, and the marks he’d left in the dirt from his outburst.&nbsp; He sighed, and then walked away.
*&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; The wind whipped through Osborn’s hair as he rode swiftly down the road, the only noise the steady padding of Rupert’s feet on the hard-packed earth.&nbsp; He was alone on the road; most people had fled the central regions of Targeth, so there were no travelers to meet, and nothing but abandoned farmhouses and pillaged roadside inns.&nbsp; It was a depressing sight, and did little to lift the hin’s mood.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Since leaving Vargas and making contact with his informants, he hadn’t heard much good news.&nbsp; He’d headed into Targeth first, to see for himself if the rumors of Trageon’s destruction were true.&nbsp; More importantly, he wanted to know how the Shadow Hand had fared.&nbsp; If the leadership had been killed, then Osborn would have a chance of assuming control of his old thieves guild.&nbsp; The Shadow Hand was an influential guild, and had contacts well outside of Targeth, and would be a valuable asset in the Shadow General’s network.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; He’d seen from a great distance away that the truth was much worse that he’d imagined.&nbsp; The angry clouds of an enormous magestorm hung over where Trageon had been, flashing with multicolored lightning.&nbsp; The storm rose in a pillar from the ground up into the sky for miles, completely obscuring any sign of the city.&nbsp; He wasn’t able to get a good look at Trageon until he was almost on top of it.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; The city was a ruined pile of stone and metal.&nbsp; The Upper City and the Tower had collapsed completely, and the weight of the collapse had caved in the Lower City, leaving a huge, rubble-strewn crater.&nbsp; Shards of glassteel were scattered everywhere, buried in the earth; some were the size of giants.&nbsp; The shards were still razor sharp, and nearly invisible – wandering around, one could easily walk into the edge of a shard and end up bisected before being able to stop.&nbsp; Worse still, Osborn found the bodies of several people, most likely treasure-seekers looking for the Tower’s magical artifacts, whose lungs had been filled with clouds of glassteel dust, and shredded from the inside.&nbsp; They had died drowning in their own blood.&nbsp; If there were any members of the Shadow Hand left, none of them were here.&nbsp; Osborn would have to wait before he could make his bid for control.&nbsp; With a overwhelming sense of melancholy and not a little fear, Osborn retreated from the hellish scene.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Meanwhile, he was still receiving regular reports from his network.&nbsp; His twin brother Gerald, who was in the south posing as the Shadow General, was sending regular dispatches via the invisible silver ravens he’d had made to permit secret communication with his people across Affon.&nbsp; Gerald had sent him a copy of an old map that one of his agents had recovered; detailing the location of what was supposedly a pre-Cataclysm treasure.&nbsp; Osborn had already sent a letter to Lanara asking her to dig up any information she could.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; He was also hearing rumors of bands of fanatic Ladtan clergy, forcibly converting entire villages to their goddess and then murdering them en masse, claiming that only Ladta could ensure the continuation of the life-death cycle and end the disturbances in magical power.&nbsp; He was also hearing rumors that the ranks of many of the gods’ cults were swelling with new recruits in the face of recent events.&nbsp; There had been increased attacks on settlers in the Steppes by new bands of Fiel’s Ravagers, and followers of Erito’s Entropic Heresy were gathering in the mountains south of Tlaxan, advocating the hastening of decay and entropy throughout the world.&nbsp; Everywhere he looked, he could see the signs of shaken faith and uncertainty manifesting itself in the worst ways.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; There was too much to do, and not enough people to do it.&nbsp; Which was why he’d turned Rupert’s nose west, and headed for the town of Dagger Rock.&nbsp; He needed to talk with Grog, his second-in-command, and he needed to talk with him personally.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; The sun was getting low in the sky when the road finally turned in to parallel the river.&nbsp; He stopped for a while to let Rupert rest and get some water while he ate, and then they set off again.&nbsp; After another forty minutes or so, he saw the silhouette of the dagger-shaped protrusion that had given the town its name, casting a long shadow across the water.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; The road dipped slightly, and then rose again.&nbsp; What Osborn saw when he crested the hill nearly caused him to fall off his mount.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; The entire town of Dagger Rock had vanished.&nbsp; In its place, a strange arcane symbol was scorched into the soil, black against the red light of sunset.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Osborn stared at the scene below him for a while in disbelief, and then looked around to see if there were any other signs of what had happened.&nbsp; Then he turned Rupert around, and urged him into a run.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Sorry, old boy,” he said as they began to move.&nbsp; “It’s going to be a long night.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Osborn needed help.&nbsp; And he could think of only one place to get it.</blockquote>

[QUOTE="Delemental, post: 3561601, member: 5203"] [b]Divide and Conquer[/b] Well, after a long delay, here's the latest update! ---------------------- “What is our status, General?” Togusa stood and bowed before giving his report. “Duchy forces stand at seventy percent of normal, thanks to heavy recruiting. However, we are still desperately short on officers, engineers, and support personnel. It is unlikely that we will be able to fill many of these positions, and the state of the duchy’s treasury is such that it would be difficult to build our general forces further without reducing relief efforts elsewhere.” Autumn nodded, trying to keep the melancholy she felt at the news from reaching her face. “Thank you, General. And what of the tactical situation inside Vargas?” This question was addressed by a pale, aging wizard in parchment-colored robes that matched his skin, someone Autumn didn’t recognize at first. [I]Tazlin Mohere,[/I] Autumn remembered. [I]He’s the head of the Mage’s Guild. He and his wife were at my wedding.[/I] His name was on the list of people that Arrie had said might try to assassinate her. “Work progresses slowly on containing the area of the city you refer to as the ‘Nightmare Realm’, Tazlin began. “Our initial experiments on your suggestion of incorporating the alchemical compound [I]unguentum phasmatis[/I], commonly known as ghost oil, into the mortar of newly-constructed stone walls proved unsuccessful, as the mortar itself refused to set properly. We believe the compound could be modified into a form of lacquer or paint and used to coat the outer surface of a wall, but this would likely only deter lesser incursions, and would be an inconsequential barrier to a significant breach. Of course, the most foolproof method is to surround the affected area with permanent [I]walls of force[/I].” “All right,” Autumn said, “what’s the catch?” “The ‘catch’, as you put it, is that there are few practitioners of the arcane arts loyal to the duchy who have the skill required to perform this incantation, and of those that exist, few are willing to risk the spell with the current instabilities in the flow of magic. Those who are willing to try are, quite properly, demanding a significant increase in the usual fees that would be charged for such an enchantment, given its demand on an arcanist’s own life force. And with some of the members of my guild being diverted to the site of the other incursion…” “Other incursion?” Autumn blurted out. “There’s nothing dangerous about the Fields of Love!” “Not overtly so, no. However, there has been an increasing problem in the city of losing citizens with valuable skills to the temptations of this particular region and its… unusual influences. Compounding the problem is that beings native to this region have begun wandering out of the incursion zone into the rest of the city, beings who are apparently able to create the same sorts of influences in those they encounter. We can attribute at least one death to an entity from the Fields of Love – a bricklayer who apparently took in one of these creatures for his personal pleasure. So much pleasure, apparently, that he neglected to feed himself for several weeks. I’m told the grin on the face of the corpse was quite unnerving. So we have sent some of our wizards out to locate these creatures and deal with them as well. Our primary fear is that an entity from the Fields of Love might end up entering the Nightmare Realm, and we do not like the implications inherent in that particular combination.” Autumn shuddered involuntarily at the thought. “Point taken, Tazlin. Do what you can to convince your people to keep at it, and we will do what we can to give them the support they need.” [I]Bail knows where I’ll find it, though[/I]. She’d devoted a large chunk of her personal fortune into getting the city back on its feet, and had squeezed every noble and merchant she could find for more gold. “It might be of some help if we could confer with your husband, the Court Wizard,” Tazlin said. “He is currently the closest thing we have to an expert on the subject of this Dream Realm, and his insights might prove useful to us.” “The Duke-Consort is away at the moment,” [I]he didn’t say where he was going, or why, or how long he’d been gone[/I], “attending to other affairs of state.” [I]Or off getting himself killed, or having a nervous breakdown[/I]. “When he returns, I will deliver your request.” [I]Right after I beat him to a pulp[/I]. Autumn heard other reports from Auror and her other advisors, none of them encouraging. Refugees swelled the city walls, depleting food stores rapidly. Crime was up, tax collection was down. Crop yields were expected to be poor this year, due to a combination of land lost to the Taurics or the Dream Realm overlays, and farmers killed by the war or the Dream Realm incursion. The Imperial army had withdrawn to Noxolt to aid in relief and reconstruction efforts in the capital, leaving only ducal forces under her command. And a private report, given to her by her spymaster, confirmed for Autumn what Arrie had warned her about weeks ago; that some of the noble families, both inside and outside of Vargex, were making plans to use the current chaos to improve their position. King Tanach of Erumian had already survived an assassination attempt. Rubbing her temples, Autumn dismissed her spymaster and slumped down in her chair the moment he was gone. She felt numb, drained of all emotion. The urge to pack up her things and simply run gnawed at her soul, but she forced herself to shove those thoughts aside. There was too much of that going on in her home as it was. More than anything, she felt alone. Everyone had gone their separate ways after their return from the Dream Realm, recognizing that there were several tasks best accomplished if they split up. Arrie was wandering around Affon, checking up on family and friends. Tolly had gone to Medos to brief the Divinity Council and urge them into action. Lanara had been summoned to Noxolt by the Emperor himself, no doubt to help him negotiate with the Tauric Empire. Osborn was somewhere in Targeth, or what was left of it, attending to business there. And Kyle… “Where are you, Kyle?” she asked herself quietly. “When are you coming home?” [CENTER]* * *[/CENTER] Kyle arrived in the woods just east of Aleppi, the journey here significantly easier than it had been the first time. He chose to walk to the little logging village of Canyon Camp, since he didn’t know how they’d react to him just appearing in the middle of the village. When Kyle arrived, his presence caused little commotion among the villagers. [I]Loggers[/I], he thought, [I]hard to rattle them[/I]. No one seemed to recognize him as he passed through, except for one person. He had trouble placing the name when he first saw the elf-touched woman running up to him, her deer-antler headdress bobbing up and down slightly. She stopped a respectful distance away. “You’re the wizard, Kyle, aren’t you?” she said. “Welcome back to Canyon Camp.” She saw the blank look on his face, and smiled. “Priestess Sisz. I’m not surprised you have trouble recalling my name. I’m afraid I didn’t make much of an impression on people back then.” “Trust me, I know the feeling. Still having problems with that Rovenori priest?” “Who, Kath? He left about a year ago. Hard to keep the priest of a god of travelers in one spot for long. But I wouldn’t say I ever had problems with him – he was just never one for mutual respect.” “Another feeling I’ve known,” Kyle said. Sisz smiled. “So, what brings you here?” “Curiosity,” Kyle replied. “I was hoping to ask someone about the shadar-kai.” Sisz’s face darkened. “What would you want with them?” “Information. I have a theory relating to the recent troubles around Aelfenn with the Dr… with these strange creatures that have been showing up.” “Well, I doubt you’ll get much out of them,” Sisz said. “They’re an unpleasant bunch of fey.” Kyle’s brow furrowed. “Have there been problems?” “No, not really,” she said looking away into the forest, in the direction of the shadar-kai territory. “They’ve held to their end of our agreement, and haven’t attacked our people. For the most part they keep to themselves. When we do have to interact with them, though, they’re generally arrogant and hostile. I doubt there’s anyone in town who could give you any information better than that.” She looked up at Kyle. “Do you think they’re responsible for these creatures? We haven’t seen any here, but we’ve heard tales.” “Not responsible, but possibly related,” Kyle said. “It looks like I’m going to have to do it the hard way.” He sighed, then turned his attention to the town. “Everything here is the same, I take it?” “Heavy demand for timber because of the war,” Sisz said. “But normal. Is it true that the Tauric army has retreated now that the Many have come to Affon to fight on our behalf?” Kyle bit his lip. “The war is currently in a cease-fire,” he said carefully, “until everyone can figure out what exactly is going on.” “I’m thinking of making a pilgrimage to M’Dos,” Sisz said. “The opportunity to actually see Bles in person is the chance of a lifetime. For all we know, maybe the eleven Paragons will return as well!” “Or one of them, anyway,” Kyle muttered darkly. “What was that?” “Nothing. So, is the Whistling Satyr still around? I’d like a room for the night before I set off.” “I’ll walk you there,” Sisz said. “Where will you be going in the morning?” “To the standing stones,” Kyle said. “To talk to the shadar-kai.” [CENTER] * * *[/CENTER] Tolly walked along the dry, dusty road, his armor flashing in the spring sun. He made his way toward the small town at a steady but unhurried pace; even though he was wanting to make good time to his destination, he knew that today he would not accomplish this. Normally he would be traveling under the effect of an [I]air walk[/I] spell, and would probably have finished the trip in three or four days. But he’d gone on foot the past two days; somehow the concept of flying through the air during the Earthturning festival seemed… sacrilegious. His announcement to his brothers in M’Dos at the Cathedral of Eminent Order that he would not be staying there for the upcoming festival had met with a variety of responses. Of course, his demotion from his previous position as Inquisitor Primus was well known, and many simply assumed that this decision was part of whatever heresy he’d performed that had caused him to lose that title. Others assumed he was on some sort of special mission for the Archprelate, or the Alliance. The truth was that he just needed to get out of the city, and these days he no longer felt as strongly as he once did about spending Earthturning among fellow Ardarans. His faith did not require company to remain strong. Apparently, Kupa held a similar opinion; he’d flown off just before Earthturning had started, saying that he had his own observances to make, and that he would meet up with Tolly at his destination. He’d spent the past four weeks in M’Dos, conferring with the Divinity Council about the current situation. Or at least, that’s what he’d intended, but since conferring requires the active participation of both sides, he’d probably have to describe what he’d been doing as [I]lecturing[/I]. The Council, true to form, was wrapped up in their own affairs and seemed to pay the Ardaran priest and his stories about a ‘Dream Realm’ and ‘returning arch-psions’ little heed. On some level, Tolly could hardly blame them – after all, it wasn’t every day that the Divinity Council had to deal with the issue of having their deities living among them. Several of the Many had taken refuge within their own temples in M’Dos, and this had thrown the city, indeed the entire country, into disorder. There were questions of leadership and authority, with some saying that the representatives of the Council should step aside in favor of their deific patrons. Duties and responsibilities were being shirked as clergy flocked to the temples to receive wisdom directly from their gods. And the city was now choked with pilgrims, hoping for a glimpse of the divine before they set off to war. For it was a widely held belief that the Many had descended to Affon to join the war against the Taurics, a belief that was still being propagated by the churches. After all, it was reasoned, only the One and the Four were worshipped among the Taurics, which was why those gods could not be accounted for; but the Many were Affon’s gods, and would fight to defend it. With so much chaos in the air, it was small wonder that Tolly found M’Dos ill-suited for reverence to Ardara. [I]You’re dwelling too much on the problems behind you[/I], he told himself. [I]Focus your thoughts on something more pleasant. Focus your thoughts on Her[/I]. Immediately, an image of sparkling blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair entered his mind. With more effort that he thought it would require, he dismissed the errant thought. That wasn’t the Her he’d meant. Within an hour, Tolly was entering the town. It was a small trading community, close to the border with the Khag Steppes, and so he wasn’t surprised to find a few hin running around. But most of the town’s population seemed to be gathering around the central square, surrounding a small wooden platform. Tolly wandered up to the crowd, remaining in the back. On the platform was a figure wearing magistrate’s robes and another in common clothing, standing next to an earthenware vessel. Tolly was very familiar with this ritual. On the second day of Earthturning, the names of every convicted criminal in the community was inscribed on clay tokens, and these tokens, along with a few blank tokens, were mixed into a clay vessel. The local Ardaran priest, or local magistrate, would draw a single token from the vessel. According to the Ardaran church, the name drawn would be that of a criminal who was wrongly convicted, and this person would immediately be pardoned and set free. If a blank token was drawn, then it meant that all who were currently convicted of crimes had been jailed lawfully. Tolly knew that even though the Archprelates had sworn that Ardara’s Mercy was infallible, many communities opted to ‘forget’ to scribe tokens for the most serious and violent offenders. He wasn’t quite sure what the role of the second person on the platform was; normally the priest or magistrate presided over the ceremony alone. The magistrate had started speaking, and the crowd grew quiet. “And now that Ardara has bestowed her mercy upon this man,” he indicated the commoner standing next to him, “the task falls to him to choose who Ardara shall Judge.” The commoner reached into the vessel and began rummaging around. Tolly watched carefully, now understanding more. He’d heard rumors of this particular variation of the Ardara’s Mercy ceremony, something that had sprung up in outlying communities in recent years. He was surprised to see it in Medos, even this far from the capital. According to what he’d heard, Ardara’s Judgment was performed after Ardara’s Mercy, and the name drawn was supposed to indicate the name of a person who was guilty of an undiscovered crime. The church had not taken an official position on the practice yet, as the practice varied widely. The rumors about the ritual were indicating that it was often accurate, so if the Prelate Council did act on it, it would most likely be to standardize the practice. The man had grabbed on to a token, and now held it aloft for all to see. When the cheers dies down, he handed the token to the magistrate. The magistrate glanced at the token, frowned, and spoke quietly to the man with him. The crowd quickly grew impatient. “There has been an error,” the magistrate finally announced. “The name that has been drawn is not valid. Another token will be drawn.” The man reached into the vessel again, this time producing a token right away that he handed over to the magistrate as though it was on fire. A dark look crossed the magistrate’s face as he looked at the second token. “Captain!” he shouted to a guardsman standing nearby, “I thought you had verified the accuracy of these tokens!” “I did, Your Honor,” he man said. “Checked them myself this morning.” “Then how do you explain this?” The magistrate thrust the two tokens into the captain’s hands. “They both say ‘Silko’,” the captain gasped aloud. “But… that’s impossible…” “I’m sure it is, because I think that if the Paragon of Heroes was currently in our jail, I would know about it,” snapped the magistrate. “Another name will be drawn, and there will be an inquiry into this mockery of Ardara on her holiest days.” The magistrate himself thrust his hand into the jar and pulled out a token. And then another. Then another. His face grew blacker with each token he read. Finally, with a cry of rage, the magistrate tipped over the vessel, and clay tokens scattered everywhere. “Whoever is responsible for this travesty will be caught and punished for their crime! This ceremony is over!” The confused and slightly nervous crowd began to disperse. Slowly, Tolly made his way up to the platform, and looked down at the pile of broken tokens, all of which bore the same name. [I]Your will be done, Ardara[/I], he prayed silently. [I]If I have anything to say about it, then the judgment you have proclaimed will come to pass[/I]. [CENTER] * * *[/CENTER] [FONT=Book Antiqua][I] To my friends in the Legacy, I’ve struggled for a while on how to bring you this news. My first instinct, of course, is to compose a ballad about it. However, with all of us scattered Feesha knows where across this continent, it wouldn’t be very practical to get you all together for a concerto. And I don’t think any of you read musical notation, so that wouldn’t work well. Even if you could, there would be the question of what style of notation to use. While Elvish notation would seem the simplest choice, the nature of the song would probably go best with dwarven melodic rune-script. But I digress, as is my nature. In the end, I think that rather than write five separate letters and track each of you down, it’s better to write one and leave it at the one place you will all be coming back to eventually – Autumn’s home in Vargas. I say ‘you will be coming back’ instead of ‘we will be coming back’ for one simple reason – I will not be seeing you for a while. I have been designated as the chief negotiator for the Alliance and placed directly under Emperor Haxtha. Putting aside my talent for innuendo for the moment, this means that for all intents and purposes I am an Imperial official, at least for the time being. I’ve been charged with opening a dialogue with the leaders of the Tauric Empire in the hopes of negotiating a more permanent arrangement. I’m not exactly sure how I’ll do this – even I’m not good enough to convince them that turning around and going back to a devastated continent is a good idea – but I’m sure I’ll think of something. I could have turned this offer down. But the truth is that this is what I’m good at, and right now I badly need a dose of self-confidence. But part of my price for agreeing to this position is to receive some additional training in some skills I’ve neglected – if part of my problem is feeling like I’m not as useful to you as I could be, then I guess it’s up to me to step outside my comfort zone and fix that problem. I have every intention of coming back to you as soon as I can – I’m not pulling a Madrone here. But until I can come back and allow you all to once again bask in the glory of my presence, I’ll leave you with some words of wisdom. (Yes, Tolly, I am capable of it when the occasion calls). Actually, Tolly, I may as well start with you. There are some old issues in your life that aren’t as resolved as you think they are. I’m not even sure you’re fully aware of it yourself. If it ever comes down to it, trust that things will work out as they were meant to, and resist the urge to meddle. Hopefully, this advice will never make any sense to you, because the situation will never come up. Arrie, I really don’t have much I need to say to you. You seem to have pulled yourself together quite a bit since we left the Dream Realm, so I guess I don’t have to find a polite and creative way of saying ‘don’t go crazy and kill us all’. I know you only have four years left before your deal with Herion expires and you have to go back to being a full-time princess – make the most of them. Kyle, you worry me. I think you take on too much guilt, too much responsibility for what’s happened. Maybe it’s the burden of an overactive conscience, I don’t know. But there’s nothing that I or anyone else can do to stop you going down the road you’re looking down. No one but you. You really don’t want to go down that road, Kyle, and you know it. Don’t realize it after it’s too late. Autumn, the one thing I’d tell you is to remind you that you can’t control everything. And that sometimes the best way to handle a situation is to do nothing. Stick with your strengths, but realize that you have more strengths than you give yourself credit for. Osborn – it seems like you have things well in hand, or at least as well as they can get these days. My thoughts will be winging their way to you while I’m gone. Take care of yourselves, and I’ll see you soon. Hopefully at the head of a parade in my honor. [RIGHT]Lanara Rahila[/RIGHT][/I][/FONT] [CENTER]* * *[/CENTER] Arrie walked slowly among the teeming throngs of people in the refugee camp, her eyes scanning the many blank faces staring back at her. It had been a depressing trip so far. She’d started by returning to her birthplace, the kingdom of Merlion. Damen and Corissane, her cousins, were still seated comfortably on the thrones of the kingdom; their small realm was too insignificant in the eyes of most nobles in Tlaxan to make good targets. Her brother Aiden was also still in his position as the twins’ steward, and appeared to be juggling his responsibilities to them and his responsibilities as the Lord Verahannen fairly well. With nothing concerning going on, Arrie left quickly, so that her family would not be unduly burdened with the responsibility of ‘receiving a member of the Imperial Family’. [I]In another four years, they may come to see me as nothing more than ‘a member of the Imperial Family’[/I], she thought glumly. Though she was glad that her family was well, she couldn’t help but think about the father she’d lost, and would never see again. She’d headed south next, across the Dwarven Confederates and into the Khag Steppes, looking for signs of her next target. Along the way she’d spoken to many people, and learned much about what they believed or were being told about recent events. She’d also had the occasion to defend herself or others against marauding dream-creatures, and was beginning to gain a disturbingly good sense of how to fight these anomalies. Still, she’d only come out of some of those scrapes by the skin of her teeth. [I]Death is but another step on the journey,[/I] she’d reminded herself, her mind leaving out the part about how for her that step would likely be the last. Down that road lay doubt, and fear, and madness. She’d finally found what she was looking for – the Amazing Traveling Circus. Or, what was left of it. She learned that the circus troupe had largely dispersed when the war broke out, with many of them going to join the Hin Irregulars fighting for the Alliance. Only a few had returned, and many of those were wounded. Osborn’s mother, Lillian, was there, healing from a wound in her thigh. Her husband, Bartlebee, had not come back from the war, and Osborn’s twin brother Gerald had been missing for months. Arrie fought back tears as she felt the weight of the dagger she had stashed inside her boot. “It was Barty’s favorite,” Lillan had told her, “and I think he would’ve wanted Osborn to have it. He was always proud of his son.” She paused for a moment to clear her head and refocus. She was now leagues away from the Steppes, and looking for someone else. She returned her attention to the crowds surrounding her. The stench of the camp was nearly overpowering; like all the others she’d been in, this one was overcrowded and poorly organized. Off to her left, she saw an older woman spooning gruel into the mouth of a vacant-eyed, drooling man in tattered robes. She recognized him as one of the wizard instructors from the Tower, no doubt a victim of one of the magical mishaps that now plagued practitioners of magic across Aelfenn. Arrie briefly imagined seeing an incoherent Kyle sitting on the ground, rocking as he was cared for by Autumn. She forced the image out of her mind, more unnerved by the thought than she cared to admit. She was about to give up and move on when she caught sight of someone that struck a chord with her. She studied the face for a moment to be sure, and then she cautiously approached. The man was in his early sixties, and bore the scars and weight of a hard life. Thick, callused hands ended in nails that were filled with dirt Arrie imagined would never fully wash away. His sunken cheeks bore the mark of many lean winters, but there was still a spark in his blue-gray eyes. He looked up at her through a mane of graying hair when he saw she was watching him. “Is your name Rufus?” she asked. “Ayup,” he replied in a heavy rural drawl. “What’s it to you?” “I need you to come with me,” Arrie said. Rufus looked her up and down. “Well,” he said at last, “I’m guessin’ you ain’t a whore, ‘cuz they don’t needs to come out lookin’ for business round here. Judging by what yer packin’, I reckon yer either a slaver or a recruiter. I ain’t much interested in either.” “I’m not a slaver or a recruiter,” Arrie replied. “My name is Ariadne, and I’m from Tlaxan. I’ve come to take you there.” He looked her up and down again. “You’ve got the bearin’ of a noble,” he said. “If you’re looking to slum it with the commoners, ain’t you got enough back home?” Arrie controlled her breathing. Rufus was proving to be as infuriating as his progeny. “Look, I’d rather not explain it all here,” she said. “So let me make this simple.” She reached into a pocket and pulled out two gold coins, holding them so only Rufus could see them. “I want to get you out of this camp,” she said slowly. “And somewhere where you can get a proper meal and I can explain why I came to find you.” Rufus looked at the coins, and then at Arrie. Slowly, he stood up, his joints and tendons popping as he rose. “Well,” he drawled, “you got my attention, miss Ariadne.” [CENTER] * * *[/CENTER] He knelt inside the circle of standing stones, and focused his awareness on his surroundings. [I]If you’re not here, then where are you?[/I] Kyle thought, as he studied the air around him. He’d searched for two days, and found no trace of the shadar-kai. He’d found their village, the simple dwellings abandoned and empty. But not a sign of the elusive fey could be found. After several minutes, Kyle caught his first glimpse of a lingering magical aura, near the center of the circle. Concentrating harder, Kyle looked for more flickers of magic, hoping to confirm his suspicions. Slowly, the picture came into focus. [I]A magical ritual was performed here,[/I] he thought as he studied the evidence. [I]A very large one. Conjuration magic… they either brought something here or…no, they sent something away. Lots of somethings…[/I] He was pretty sure what had happened. The shadar-kai had performed some sort of ceremony to return to whatever dimension they’d been hiding in for all the millennia since the Cataclysm. A place, as he recalled Lanara telling them when they’d come here three years ago, that was ‘nowhere’, a place that ‘didn’t exist’. It was this phrase that had caught in his mind as he’d been thinking about everything they’d learned over the years about their enemies. Kyle could think of one plane that could be considered ‘nowhere’ and was thought to ‘not exist’. That plane was currently impinging itself all over Aelfenn, and tentacled horrors from that nowhere were rampaging through the land. It was possible, he thought, that the shadar-kai had somehow accessed the Dream Realm after the Cataclysm, hiding there to avoid the aftermath of that event. Perhaps they had even gone there to hide from the gods as they engaged in their crusade against the psions after the Consort’s destruction. Although the concept of a psionically-endowed race of fey was largely inconceivable, given their usual propensity for arcane magic, with everything Kyle had seen in the past four years, he wasn’t willing to rule anything out. But if, in fact, the shadar-kai had come from Dream, then his primary interest was in finding out as much as possible about that realm, and about those psions who utilized it. Beads of sweat trickled down Kyle’s forehead as he bent his effort to teasing out the most difficult piece of information from the scant remnants of magical power. “Definitely an extra-planar destination,” he said aloud to himself. “Not a planet… what’s that… it looks like…” The answer clicked into place with the solidity of a door slamming shut. Shadow. The shadar-kai had gone to the Shadow Plane, which was most likely the very place they’d gone all those years ago. “Damn!” Kyle swore, rising to his feet and stomping around the circle of stones. “Son of a bitch!” He stomped to the center of the circle and screamed at the top of his lungs as he released weeks of pent-up rage. He turned and stomped off, still swearing, kicking at the large stones surrounding the clearing. There was a fluttering of wings, and a large raven settled on a nearby branch. “Um, boss?” the raven said, “you do realize you’re all alone out here, right? Calm down.” Kyle whirled to face Violet. “Don’t tell me to calm down! This was the last thing I could think of to track Silko’s people down! Nothing I’ve tried in the past six weeks has worked! All of the psions I know about are warded against divinations, and so is that he-bitch Marrek!” Violet did not respond to Kyle’s tirade. “I mean, it’s not exactly like you’ve made any good suggestions! The only idea I have left is using live bait, and I’m not exactly eager to dangle myself on a hook for Kristyan and his ilk!” “Then why don’t you ask someone else?” “Right, like I’d put anyone else in that position! What kind of person do you think I am?” “That’s not what I meant, boss. I meant ask about where the psions are.” “Ask about where the psions are? Silko and his people aren’t exactly in the habit of making friends on the surface world. Who would you suggest I ask?” Kyle stared up at Violet. Slowly, the flush in his cheeks faded. He walked over and extended his hand. Violet flapped her wings and settled on Kyle’s shoulder. “Things didn’t go according to plan, I take it?” she asked. “No, they didn’t.” He sighed. “And clearly, I’m no longer in a state of mind to keep this up. I guess I should just go back to Vargas and let them know I’ve got nothing to show for my efforts.” “Don’t give up hope, boss,” Violet said. “Maybe the answer will come to you in a dream or something like that.” Kyle laughed mirthlessly. “I’m not sure I really want anything from dreams right now, Violet.” “Suit yourself.” The raven pecked at Kyle’s hair. “Wood tick,” she said, swallowing the tiny insect. “Say, if you don’t need me, there’s a rather lovely dead raccoon off yonder…” “Have a blast,” Kyle said. “Don’t be gone long. I’m heading back to town and we’re leaving after supper. Some of us can’t live on carrion.” After Violet flew off, Kyle looked around at the stone circle, and the marks he’d left in the dirt from his outburst. He sighed, and then walked away. [CENTER] * * *[/CENTER] The wind whipped through Osborn’s hair as he rode swiftly down the road, the only noise the steady padding of Rupert’s feet on the hard-packed earth. He was alone on the road; most people had fled the central regions of Targeth, so there were no travelers to meet, and nothing but abandoned farmhouses and pillaged roadside inns. It was a depressing sight, and did little to lift the hin’s mood. Since leaving Vargas and making contact with his informants, he hadn’t heard much good news. He’d headed into Targeth first, to see for himself if the rumors of Trageon’s destruction were true. More importantly, he wanted to know how the Shadow Hand had fared. If the leadership had been killed, then Osborn would have a chance of assuming control of his old thieves guild. The Shadow Hand was an influential guild, and had contacts well outside of Targeth, and would be a valuable asset in the Shadow General’s network. He’d seen from a great distance away that the truth was much worse that he’d imagined. The angry clouds of an enormous magestorm hung over where Trageon had been, flashing with multicolored lightning. The storm rose in a pillar from the ground up into the sky for miles, completely obscuring any sign of the city. He wasn’t able to get a good look at Trageon until he was almost on top of it. The city was a ruined pile of stone and metal. The Upper City and the Tower had collapsed completely, and the weight of the collapse had caved in the Lower City, leaving a huge, rubble-strewn crater. Shards of glassteel were scattered everywhere, buried in the earth; some were the size of giants. The shards were still razor sharp, and nearly invisible – wandering around, one could easily walk into the edge of a shard and end up bisected before being able to stop. Worse still, Osborn found the bodies of several people, most likely treasure-seekers looking for the Tower’s magical artifacts, whose lungs had been filled with clouds of glassteel dust, and shredded from the inside. They had died drowning in their own blood. If there were any members of the Shadow Hand left, none of them were here. Osborn would have to wait before he could make his bid for control. With a overwhelming sense of melancholy and not a little fear, Osborn retreated from the hellish scene. Meanwhile, he was still receiving regular reports from his network. His twin brother Gerald, who was in the south posing as the Shadow General, was sending regular dispatches via the invisible [I]silver ravens[/I] he’d had made to permit secret communication with his people across Affon. Gerald had sent him a copy of an old map that one of his agents had recovered; detailing the location of what was supposedly a pre-Cataclysm treasure. Osborn had already sent a letter to Lanara asking her to dig up any information she could. He was also hearing rumors of bands of fanatic Ladtan clergy, forcibly converting entire villages to their goddess and then murdering them en masse, claiming that only Ladta could ensure the continuation of the life-death cycle and end the disturbances in magical power. He was also hearing rumors that the ranks of many of the gods’ cults were swelling with new recruits in the face of recent events. There had been increased attacks on settlers in the Steppes by new bands of Fiel’s Ravagers, and followers of Erito’s Entropic Heresy were gathering in the mountains south of Tlaxan, advocating the hastening of decay and entropy throughout the world. Everywhere he looked, he could see the signs of shaken faith and uncertainty manifesting itself in the worst ways. There was too much to do, and not enough people to do it. Which was why he’d turned Rupert’s nose west, and headed for the town of Dagger Rock. He needed to talk with Grog, his second-in-command, and he needed to talk with him personally. The sun was getting low in the sky when the road finally turned in to parallel the river. He stopped for a while to let Rupert rest and get some water while he ate, and then they set off again. After another forty minutes or so, he saw the silhouette of the dagger-shaped protrusion that had given the town its name, casting a long shadow across the water. The road dipped slightly, and then rose again. What Osborn saw when he crested the hill nearly caused him to fall off his mount. The entire town of Dagger Rock had vanished. In its place, a strange arcane symbol was scorched into the soil, black against the red light of sunset. Osborn stared at the scene below him for a while in disbelief, and then looked around to see if there were any other signs of what had happened. Then he turned Rupert around, and urged him into a run. “Sorry, old boy,” he said as they began to move. “It’s going to be a long night.” Osborn needed help. And he could think of only one place to get it. [/QUOTE]

Verification