The Thorns of Winter -(updated 3/12/2023)


Lizard folk in disguise

True Lies that are Told​

“Right now, we need to rest,” Rosa protested. “Adrissa almost lost her head, Myrai almost lost everything else. Everyone needs a night’s rest.”

“The remains of the keep should be sufficient to protect us for an evening,” The Blade said. “But what are the odds of new guardians appearing?”

“Slim,” I said as a shook my head. “But its not like we have much of a choice. Not at night with this cold.”

Doxx frowned and huffed, “No. No, we don’t. Let’s get comfortable.”

Together we moved back to the remains of the keep, leaning on each other. On the way I summoned Gossamer to scout ahead. One look at all of us, and the familiar didn’t even make a quip, and quickly flew to scout ahead. What Goss found was a small room on the second floor that required some rope work to reach, as the connecting hall had collapsed, isolating it from the stairs. It was a bit of work to climb up into, but no one else was going to get to us either.

Doxx, Rosa, and I lay out our bedrolls, while The Blade wrapped themselves in a blanket. Soon Bookshelf erected the dome to protect us from the cold and hide us from prying eyes, while the warforged, and The Blade kept watch. I lay on my bedroll, and peeled off my leggings, so I could better clean the gash through my thigh. I knew the fiend’s blade had torn right through the muscles, but fortunately didn’t sever anything. So with a number of white strands, I was able to heal my wounds, which freed Rosa to do the same for the others.

She had just finished with Adrissa and had turned her attention to The Blade who half heartedly waved her off. While she dealt with the hand slaps of the elf, Adrissa came over to me and sat down on the foot of the bedroll.

“Does it hurt?” she asked looking as muscle rejoined, and skin started to close around the gaping wound. Blood poured out of the wound, and onto a cloth I had set there expecting it. The power to heal was a marvelous one, but it aways seemed that it left extra blood behind as the body was put back to working order. I had now healed myself and others enough to know this as a fact, and I was clueless on why.

“Quite. But once the wound closes it fades quickly enough,” I said as I pulled on a strand to clean away the blood from my skin, leaving no trace of a scar behind.

Adrissa looked at my leg with a thoughtful look before saying, “Does it aways prevent scars?”

“Hmm? No…not always. If the wound is old enough there will be a scar, but fresh ones usually don’t.” I turned to look at her, and realized she was running her fingers around her neckline. “It doesn’t look like it will in your case either.”

Adrissa sighed, and her shoulders slumped a bit. “Good,” she said quietly. She then looked at me and asked, “You’ve fought a lot. Do you have any scars?”

I thought a second, as I cradled my leather leggings and started to use some light strands to mend the rents in the material. “From fighting, I’ve been fortunate, I guess. I only have barest hint of one from a crossbow, knocking me off a roof,” and I pointed to a spot on the lowest part of the ribs on my right. “But its faded away mostly. The worst wound I ever had however didn’t leave on behind, though by all rights it should have.”

“An accident?” Adrissa asked.

I shifted uncomfortably and sighed before answering, “I made a bargain to save someone I loved. And that bargain was to let fiends…hurt me.” I said swallowing around a lump that suddenly appeared in my throat. “Fiends like that marilith. But part of the bargain was that they would heal me and leave me unmarked. And they carried it out to the letter.” I looked down and grimaced. “But make no mistake, you can get hurt plenty, to the brink of death even, and healing magic can cover it up.”

“Can I ask what they did?”

I looked at Adrissa in the eyes in sorrow, “After ten days of pain, only the worst remained in my memories. But having healers there only encouraged them to take me within a heart beat of death with the wounds they caused. But most people in that situation pass out, their minds unable to cope with the pain. They wouldn’t let me do that, and instead let me scream or just stare in horror when I could no longer do so. All for their entertainment.” I spat.


“Well…I have heard a lot of explanations, and truth be told the only one that seemed to make any sense is that they were… ‘born’ to do it.” I was quiet for a moment and I stopped Adrissa short with “I experienced things that should be left to the realms of nightmares. They aren’t bedtime conversations really.”

Adrissa nodded but changed her question, “So if you made a bargain like that, why would bargain with Twisted Mirth?”

And there it was. It was the real question in the back of my mind too. I remembered how the malebranche slid a contract in front of me, ink dry with Markel’s and my name throughout its length. How that contract nearly broke me, because no mortal was ever really meant to survive that many horrors of pain in a brief time. How following two contracts to the letter, ended up with Markel dying slowly with no one lifting a finger to help. How good intentions in spirit was trumped by the letter of a contract. Knowing all this, why would I make a deal with a fiend like a night hag, and one who was great auntie no less, the most dangerous and cunning of their kind.

The night hags were powerful, and they commanded respect because of the knowledge they held in their worm-ridden skulls. Even the rules of Baator and the Abyss paid them heed, each one searching for knowledge only in their grasp. Rarely could they ever be held to account for the misery they created. The only one that I heard that might have been was one called Ravel Puzzlewell, who was sent to the mazes by The Lady of Pain, in my home Sigil. But even then, some whispered that it was all by her design, and that she could leave anytime she wanted. And while she wasn’t heard from again, it didn’t make anyone feel confident she was gone.

It was that knowledge that made them shrewd bargainers, and the negotiations were always tilted in their favor. They had no reason ever to say yes, and if you insulted them with a poor offering, you might not ever obtain what you wanted from them. It left one with little to work with negotiations, while they could ask for the moon or stars…or more personal things. And any bargain struck, always turned out for the worse for the seeker. So Twisted Mirth wasn’t wrong; when there was something that the hag wanted from a mortal, it was the closest thing to an even bargain you might see. But even then, it was still tilted in their favor.

So why do it? Why take this risk? Is knowing more about this Teiazaam and what Jade wanted with me worth it? Did it help me somehow avoiding them or forcing them somehow to leave things alone. Was it even about me, or more about my absent father instead, and I was just a pawn in some immortal game where the stakes were unclear, and if I even had an interest in the outcome.
All of this assumed that Twisted Mirth knew anything at all. She may be a great auntie, but did that mean she knew what was going on in the Abyss at all? This being the farthest known reach of the multiverse I had ever seen or heard of.

“Because knowledge is worth something,” I said. “And knowing why Jade is willing to send a marilith after me might enough to survive.” I looked at the camp and then at Adrissa, “The only reason I’m not in pieces being delivered to Jade, is because of everyone here. But you all shouldn’t have to be obligated to fight for me, just because you were nearby.”

“Honey, you could say the same about us,” Rosa said, finishing tending to The Blade. “You didn’t know someone was looking for you, so its not like you could have prevented it dear.”

“Knowledge is not worth every price,” The Blade grumbled. “Shortcuts like that never get you what you want or need.”

“Ever the purist,” Doxx snorted, as she lay on her back in her bed roll. “Sometime bargains like that are the only way to get ahead. It’s not like your opponents are following some silly code of honor.”

“That might be a matter of who you are bargaining with,” Bookshelf said quietly. “Buying it from a sometimes ally is better than a sometimes enemy.”

“It is her decision. Question might be does she have anything that is worth a trade.” Sage said. “You still need to sleep; its many hours till dawn. Rest while you can.”


“Wait for me!” a young girl with golden hair yelled chasing after the tiefling.

“Come on! If you are going to have a birthday, you need to celebrate it properly!” Elsina shouted back.

I’m…I’m dreaming. I know I am! Why am I here again?

Stopping at stall, the tiefling makes a bargain by pointing at the same candy over and over again, each time getting a different price.

That’s right. A candy vendor run by Chaosmen…but I was surprised she had money.

The tiefling handed the girl a bright red hard candy and popped another into her own mouth.

“,” the golden haired one said.

“And sweet! Spicy cinnamon!” the tiefling giggled.

Nearby a man breaks from a crowd running from a stall, with some prize in his arms. A woman with long and wild black hair turns with interest.

Why am I seeing this?!? I want to forget this memory. Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!

The woman close her eyes and a wicked smile slowly spread across her face. She took a pair of steps and drew a pair of swords as she danced toward the knight of the post running with his goods.

No! Stop her! Stop her! Don’t let Pentar ki—

The little girl dove towards the woman’s legs and managed to trip her. The woman opened her eyes and glared at the little girl. She stumbled on, and managed to with a single slice, cut the head of the knight of the post with a single cut.

The tiefling stood there in shock, as the black-haired woman turned on her heel, and raised her sword high and brought it down on the golden haired girl laying in the dirt of the road. The tiefling, Elsina screamed at the sight of her friend being slaughtered in front of her.

Wait…that’s…that’s…not what happened. She died! I’m alive!

The body of the golden-haired girl lay unmoving in the street, when suddenly a nimbus of light surrounded her. The crowd wasn’t just hushed, but frozen as was the wild haired woman, as a figure stepped out of it. It stood twice the height of the people around it, clad in grey, sporting a set of wings that were white, flecked with grey feathers. It was a beacon of light in the dusty crowd its light blanketing the street as it emerged from the crowd. As it walked it made a gesture, and it turned and lay a hand on the tiefling’s head.

“I’m sorry to grant your wish. But it is necessary. Blessed is your passing. So be the will of my Lord, and my desire in faith, may Death grant you peace Elisna.”

There was a flash, and sound of metal cutting flesh and bone, and Elisna’s head slowly fell to the earth.

This didn’t happen! I didn’t…she didn’t…there was no…what’s going on!

The angel, turned and looked at me as it shrank and drew a cloth hood over its head, its golden prescence now growing to a blinding light, until I could no longer see anything.


My eyes fluttered open, and instead of the ground with my companions, I found myself once again floating on my back in a firmament of
lights. The strands held me a loft caressing my bare skin. And once again the patterns of silver in my skin were different; more complex than before. But something was different. The presence of the construct was missing, its voice in my head empty.

I willed myself upright and shook my head, trying to clear it. Why was I here? Why now? How badly did that marilith actually hurt me? I didn’t really have any sense of time or time passing when it spoke.


It wasn’t in my head, instead the voice was softly reverberated in my bones and strands around me. I was about to open my mouth when I realized another distinction. No ‘Element Myrai.’ Just my name.

Looking around gave me nothing more to latch onto, and I was about to speak when the voice echoed through me.

“I suppose it…is overdue we talk…my daughter.”

Session notes
And Pentar would have gotten away with it if it wasn't for that meddling angel...or wait. Didn't she? Hard to tell wtih Pentar. :)
Last edited:

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Smug Bladesinger
YOOOOO father daughter "bonding" time let's gooo.
Always my favorite when we get to look into the more personal, thought-influenced moments of Myrai and other characters. This one was excellent, and the next part has me excited.


Lizard folk in disguise

Thy will be done - 03/12/2023​

(This section took a lot longer to edit and write than normal. Apologies)​

I hung there in the construct, shocked. The voice I heard was deep and articulate. The type of voice you want to hear when someone is telling a story you want to lose yourself in. It was a voice I longed to hear. Desperate to hear after all these years. But, as I hung there in space, my mouth open, I found myself at a loss. What do I say? What do I ask? Where do I start?

As if he read my mind, came an answer, “You no doubt have questions. Questions that make your bones ache with need. I will disappoint you I fear, as some answers you are not ready for yet.”

I frowned for a moment and after some hesitation, I asked the first thing that popped in my head from the questions that were forming in my head, “The…the vision of Elsina…was…was that what really happened?”

“It is.” He answered.

“Why don’t I remember it that way?” I said to myself before addressing the voice of my father, “Did you…change…how I--?”

“—It would not do, to have two very distinct memories of the same event.”


“I thought I explained that. Having two—” the voice started patiently before I cut him off.

“No.” I corrected him and pointedly asked, “Why did she have to die at all?” As I spoke, the words kept coming easier now, like a dam was starting to break and they started to fall from my mouth rapidly, “You had power enough to change the event. Why did Elisna need to die at all?”

“Because it was a mortal’s time to go in that place, in that time.” He explained, “It could have been the vendor you purchased your sweet at. The shop keeper who reported the theft. Even the woman who swung her blades in the street, could been killed. All were possibilities, and yet improbably it was you that was fates choice.”

“You said, ‘I’m sorry to grant your wish?’” I said, recalling what was said in the vision I had before coming here. “You…responded to her prayer? You granted it?”

“Serendipity…” The voice flatly said contradicting the word’s usual meaning in my head. There was no remorse in it. Not even a note of regret. “…By her making an offer of trade, it made it possible to let you live.”

“But…but…that doesn’t make sense.” I was recalling my own rebirth at the hands of a priest of Asmodeus over a year ago. “You could have found coin, or just convince a cleric to raise me…wait what am I saying? You’re sodding angel! You could have done it yourself!”

“Your soul was not ready to see the Fugue,” He answered again. ‘Too young, too malleable. It would have been difficult ensure the summons back to your body as your soul wouldn’t want to come back. You were not anchored to life yet, as it did not have a positive meaning for you. Hence another soul was needed in your stead.”

My mind was racing with the contradictions. How events before didn’t mesh with what was being said. “But you forced me back before, didn’t you? What made my throat bring ripped out so different.”

“That was barely possible, you had just begun to truly live.”

“What about Elisna?” I demaned angrily. “Wouldn’t she want to come back and live. Come back to…me?”

“She was content to believe that she saved your life.”

I shook my head defiantly, not wanting to believe the words “That doesn’t explain why she had to die!” I was now shouting at the construct, which seemed small as my voice echoed throughout the empty space.

“Some deaths are not intrinsic to the multiverse; they happen, and the outcome does not alter what is to be. But some events, are…notable. There are lives that have importance and impact. And their deaths too have impact. Yours would have been problematic. Others needed to take your place.”

I started to cry, I felt powerless, but more than that, I felt alone. Here was my kin, my father, explaining fate to me. It felt dismissive. “Why didn’t you pick someone else!? You didn’t have to …kill…her…” my voice faltered, as the lump grew in my throat.

“She had already made the offer, and that alone, made it easy to make the change. Anyone else could have had repercussions.”

“Repercussions? What about to me? Didn’t you think about the pain it was going to cause me?!?” I yelled into the darkness around me. “The anguish of seeing her corpse animated, and running messages around the Hive every day?”

“Is your lack of pain of such import that it worth more than a shopkeeper’s wife?” The voice questioned me, and I realized it was somewhat ignorant of me to assume that if someone else was chosen, that their friends and kin wouldn’t be impacted. But that truth did nothing to quell the churning emotions on my near sister’s fate. Heedless of my turmoil, the voice continued, “But the reverse is not true. In fact, your pain was, and still is necessary.”

I blinked through the tears and panted back in seething frustration “My pain? Like I need more of it. Elisna killed by Pentar. My first kiss of mercy I gave that boy the Faction War in Sigil. Losing Markell on the floor of the Tenth Pit! The burned bones of Beepu’s mother cast aside! Killing Eridan to save my friends and me! Watching Wy die in a cage! To every death I was surrounded and touched by? Hers wasn’t the first or will it be the last, but…I miss her.”

“That pain is needed, much like a hammer on a blade being forged.”

“That’s barmy!” I screamed at the construct, pulling on strands to elevate my voice and letting my fury fill the space. “I don’t need it! I don’t WANT it. I want to forget it! I want a decent night sleep without the nightmares. I don’t want to relive each and every one, over and over. And now you are telling me that you won’t let this madness end? Or me end for that matter? I’m so important that everyone else close to me should perish instead. To the blazes with that! Just let me die and save the rest the suffering!”

“That is not your destiny.”

I crossed my arms and thrashed around helplessly, trying to find a target for my glare, “Destiny? So now I have a destiny? So, what possible destiny requires me to suffer the loss of everything I hold dear! I want to ease other’s perception of death, not be the cause of it!”

“It is precisely your ability to feel it, that is important,” my father continued. “It allows you to find empathy.”

“What? My normal sense of what’s fair and right isn’t enough? A good story from a bard could do the same thing.”

The voice disagreed, “Perhaps, but it is not as powerful as personal investment and experience. And my investment in you is as great if not greater. For the good of all.”

“Investment?” I said my fury rising again. “What possible need is there to have me watch other people suffer. For ME to suffer? I’m not some petitioner paying for their sins. What are you possibly expecting to teach me? What gain is there to suffer all the way you can be hurt, whether by torture or having your heart and hopes crushed? Isn’t it enough?”

“It is not.” The voice disagreed again.

My mouth hung open in shock. The meaning there was plain and simple; I was going to hurt more; to see more, to experience more. Like the greedy inner masochist of a Sensate in me was had to devour every pain I could suffer, just because they wanted to. No, because I supposedly needed to. ‘For your own good,’ was how it felt like my…father…was trying to put it.

I was frustrated so I changed my line of questions then hoping to get answer to something, anything. I grit my teeth and forced my voice to be calmer, “Then why are you investing all of this into me? What are you trying to accomplish? What are you forging me into?”

“That is not for—”

I growled as the anger welled up in me. I wasn’t even thinking about it, but I was starting to pull on strands even here to elevate my voice. All so I could shout this proxy of the powers that seemed to want to twist fate in the worst way for me, “—Enough! If you aren’t going to answer questions, why are you here?!? Why should I even listen to you? Why should I allow you forge me into anything?”

The voice commanded me “You will be strong and endur—”

“—I don’t want to hear you give me another screed! Sodding Baator…” I exhaled and let the anger simmer back down as I glared around me, emotionally drained. I then glared at the darkness, “I am done being the marionette here. I will control my own destiny! Not the fiends who are interested in me! And not you!”

I could only hear my own heart thumping in my ears and my lungs laboring for air. I pulled my legs up and rested my head on my knees and wrapped my arms around my calves. My anger spent; it left me shaking as tears rolled down my cheeks. As the silence continued, I felt that all I had accomplished was nothing. I was simply to be treated how all immortals treated mortals. As tools. As a resource. And now for the first time really understood why Sigilites avoided celestials and their kin even more than fiends.

Celestials did not desire worship; they were instruments of the powers, and they themselves were the epitome of power. They were perfect in action and thought. And so, when flawed mortals called upon them for help, they would find themselves at the celestials’ beck and call. For angels only answered the most desperate prayers, and they did not come to help, but to be obeyed. They would demand everything to be sacrificed to defeat the greatest sins or most foul evils. The myths of them offering mercy were just that, myths.

Or so I had been told. I never had spoke to any of the celestials, and so here it was, the first one just happens to be my father. But as an angel’s daughter, no matter how important, regardless of my ‘destiny,’ I was still a mere mortal. I felt I like a child at the Gatehouse’s orphanage unworthy at sitting at the elder’s table. So, I had no idea what to expect next.

So, I was surprised to hear a quiet, soft and respectful voice now in my head, “Myrai. Please.” He said softly, with a gentled and tender tone that compelled me to listen.

I closed my eyes and sighed. I wanted to ignore him, but I couldn’t, “What?” I whispered.

“You are important. And not just to myself. Your importance to others is even greater. That is why I am talking with you now; because you are no longer hidden.”

I was expecting something else, so I asked, “Hidden? I don’t understand.”

“I arranged for the conditions to let you fall to Toril. But as you fell, I made it challenging for others to follow you. Eyes from afar could not see you. But arriving here has undone my protections. Your existence could not be hidden any longer.”

“Others? Do they know what I am?” I muttered still simmering. “Will they tell me?”

My jibe seemed to miss its mark as he continued, “They only see you as leverage, not as something important. I am their prize. Only one other truly suspects your importance; and she watches and waits for…an error.”

“Only one. Jade.” I said grimly. I could see that green halo and that knowing wicked smile in my mind, and it still twisted my stomachs into knots.

“The one that knows, is not Jade,” he said, taking me aback. “But Jade too wishes to uncover the truth and learn my secrets. This is why I cannot tell you more; you are a prize beyond counting in comparison to I; and that is saying too much. But I can tell you, while she is but a single concern among many.”

“What good does this do me?” I asked completely out of sorts. “Fiends are trying to get to me to get to you. I can’t do anything about it! I can’t run out their reach, even if I had forever and a day! There isn’t anything I can do!”

“Not correct. There are two things that must happen to ensure your safety. The first is the easiest; you must reach the end of this journey. The overlord should not be freed on principle. But at the end, there you will find what you are currently lacking.”

I nodded slowly, “Alright; finish this. Got it. What else?”

“You were found by the Webbing of Cauldrons. You must hide yourself from its sight.”

I rolled my eyes afraid of yet another distraction, “And where is this trinket?”

“It is not a device you can use. It is the name of the network used to communicate across distances and planes. A way of making deals between fiends that barely can tolerate their own kind’s presence. It was through this you were found. It was through this web that Teiazaam made a bargain from afar.”

“Bargain?” I said confused. “Who could Teiazaam made a deal with? I mean this prime is really, really off the beaten path! So, who would know…obscure…arcana…” the words drifted off into silence as I realized what she bargained with.

Another hag.

“Twisted Mirth gave me up to another hag.” I said grimly. “She barked where I was to Teiazaam.”

“And there is your opportunity.” My fathers’ voice sounded nonchalant at my revelation. “All you need to do, is bargain to your advantage.”

My eyes must have just popped out of my sockets as I hung there, my mouth agape. “Outwit a Great Auntie? You’re mad. I don’t have anything of value!”

“Great Aunties are not as simple as the lesser member of their sorority. They look beyond the misery they cause for greater goals. So, she might yet…bargain again.”

“Like Ravel…” I whispered. “She had a question she wanted answered. And got mazed for it.”

“All to her design. And she got what she wanted.”

I thought on that; she wanted to get mazed? She put herself in a prison…to keep herself hidden and safe. She probably could have left anytime. An interesting notion, but not the most important thought though.

I shook my head, trying to clear away the mblix from my father, “But all you are doing is manipulating me. Telling me partial nibblets of the past, all to hide the future. Find another. Ask someone else. Leave me alone,” I said my head hanging and my eyes closed and watering.

“That…is no longer an option. Your brother already has perished before reaching his full potential, and the time left only leaves…you.”

“A last hope. A last stab at…something,” I rued.

“Focus child. Twisted Mirth does not yet have what she wants. The gems you possess are part of it. But she needs a soul to bind it all together. One with strong…planar connections.”

I gulped. She needed my soul to finish the key. This tidy detail was never mentioned, and why would she? I couldn’t imagine the others just simply handing me over the to the hag. It wasn’t like them. But…I could see myself guilting myself into doing it. But before I could pursue this thought much further, he spoke again.

“So…you will give her one; Teiazaam’s.”

I blinked. “What?” I whispered mostly to myself.

“Teiazaam is new to her role, but she herself is an old creature of chaos and seduction. So, summoning her and using her as the binding is only appropriate to the pain she has caused you.”

I hung there in the air confused, my mind racing. I had thought that this mysterious Teiazaam was a faceless antagonist; one of many immortal fiends in the multiverse. But that I somehow knew her…I wracked my mind trying to think where when it dawned on me. “She had to have been in the Tenth Pit with me.”

“In her prior form of a succubus. Now, she is more powerful, a Lilitu. More than enough to create the binding you need, although you may to sweeten the deal for your Great Auntie for it. But the key to this, is something simple, her true name. Yrrthacius.”

My jaw dropped open. A true name? I had of course heard stories of their power, how a fiend couldn’t resist a calling using it. How it could force submission of any fiend. And to a hag, true names had value. But I had my doubts.

“This is…something I can use to trade with but…do I have the right? I mean, Jade and her friends watched me suffer in humiliation. Is that crime enough to use her as a binding?”

There was silence for a moment. “This is a moment of pride for me; that you would care for your opponent’s soul as much as a friend. But in my judgement, she has done enough damage to so many, that some time as a dweomer is suitable punishment. I am certain of this.”

Within the construct I head only hear my breathing as I considered. What choices did I really have? Do I play the fool, to curry favor to get to some real answers, and not this stupid miniature version of the Kriegstanz. “I guess it is a solution,” I muttered.

My father now felt as distant as could be. “Once the matter of the fiends hounding you is resolved, I can talk more openly. But for now, I will expand your abilities further.”

I opened my eyes, suddenly afraid. I saw that there were more strands floating around me, and as I watched, four of them lashed out and struck me in the torso. I threw my head back in pain and screamed as I felt the strands worming their way into me. It felt like they were tearing into my humbles and knotting themselves inside of me, and wrapping and knitting to the strands that already permeated my being. They snaked past each other, creating a crucible of flame within my soul, welding the strands to me. And as sudden as it started, it ceased. I breathed easier as I felt the sensation die down a bit.

I hung there limply in the silence, feeling the strands empowering me. As I regained my strength, I summoned the effort to ask a last question. Something that had always nagged at the back of my mind. Something selfish. “I…understand why we can’t talk about you or I. But…my mother? Can you?...” my voice trailed off into silence as I hoped.

And the silence carried on for a while, before I heard my father’s voice again, “Your mother shares much of your passion, and is a remarkable woman.”

My heart skipped a beat.


I looked up into the roof of the construct and was about to ask more when he spoke again “I cannot divulge more, for both of your safety. Go!”


My eyes opened, and there I was back into the ice world I had left behind. bundled in my bedroll. Beside me Adrissa was still asleep next to me breathing softly. The others were asleep, all but the warforged, and perhaps The Blade, who leaned on a rock underneath our dome of protection. In the distant east of the Iron Root mountains, the barest hint of color put them into a red silhouette against the sky.

I stood up and stretched, and the warforged both turned their heads to look at me, when Bookshelf spoke. “You are up early. Did you…sleep well?” it said awkwardly. “You appear to have shed…tears.”

I rubbed my hand under my eyes, and indeed there were the moisture of tears. I nodded and smiled. “I didn’t sleep. But I had a…meaningful conversation. And I guess that is best outcome I could have hoped for.”

Session Notes:

I believe someone asked if there would be more questions than answers. Well...of course there would. :)

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