Post by Orianna Èirigh on Mar 15, 2022 13:11:38 GMT
Taking place directly after ‘Cleansing Waters’
Haspar Knoll is a large hill covered in a small but densely packed forest, surrounded by open plains. There is no official road leading here but there does appear to be a rough path leading through the plains that winds around the hill and leads through a small gap in the trees towards the centre where a house sits.
The house itself is like something out of a fairy tale: Sitting in a clearing in the trees, surrounded by a small wooden fence is a medium sized cottage of stone and wood with a thatch roof and, oddly, a small circular stone tower in one corner, rising just over the roof of the house, with it’s own slate roof.
The path leading up to the cottage is marked out in large flat stones flanked on either side by patches of wild flowers and fragrant herbs. To the left is a small pond with steps that lead directly into the water and to the right, just round the corner of the house can be seen a clearing in the grass and flowers, the centre of which appears to be a large fire pit.
At the edges of the entire clearing are eight large ancient looking trees forming a nearly perfect circle around the house, almost sentinel-like in their positioning, creating a barrier between the cottage and the surrounding forest. As they approach, there is a tangible change in the air as each of them crosses this boundary, the wild feel of the forest suddenly replaced by one of calm and protection.
In the garden is a red skinned woman with long flowing black hair, and dark robes – almost elven looking – collecting various small cuttings from the assortment of flowers and herbs around her. A rhythmic clacking sound can be heard from her many necklaces and bracelets of bone and stone as she moves. She spots the group approaching and her face takes on first a quizzical look before alighting on Zola and taking on a friendlier smile.
“I see you have guests with you this time, Daughter Zola… Come on then…” she says waving them all over as she turns towards the house. “Pearl won’t be happy mind, at this time of night.”
Zola gives her a hug. “Thank you, Mother Beulah, it’s good to see you again! I assumed as much about Mother Pearl but it’ll only be for a spell, I promise.”
Beulah casts a look over the others, Florian’s beaming face standing out the most in that moment as she returns Zola’s hug.
“It’s good to see you, Daughter Zola – you are always welcome.”
She begins to walk back to the cottage, leaving the door open for them to follow her inside. Zola encourages everyone to enter.
Florian and Orianna are the first to walk in and so are the first to see the large and spacious reception room. To the left is an open archway leading to a kitchen where two voices can be heard bickering. Directly opposite is a set of stairs leading up while to the right there is a large fireplace with a fire already lit. In the corner beyond the fireplace is a back door. The room itself has several large comfy looking chairs arranged around a small coffee table – all made of solid wood with small shoots of living plants growing on them and intricately carved in shapes of flowers and animals.
Beulah strides into the room. “WE HAVE GUESTS!” she shouts. Her voice goes back to being a normal volume. “Sorry, do make yourselves comfortable, Lillian makes a supreme tea if anyone is thirsty?”
A voice from the kitchen shouts back in response. “IN THE HOUSE!?”
Through the arch to the kitchen the face of a green hag framed in long looping braids of white hair peeks out for a moment, a look of confusion across her face. “Ah! It’s Daughter Zola, Pearl! She has friends with her! Come on! No I don’t think-” the voice trails off into a whisper for a moment before a second voice, the one that originally shouted about being in the house, cries out again.
“WELL I AIN’T DECENT!”
Beulah looks at everyone with a smile. “Excuse me,” she says and wanders into the kitchen. There is the sound of hushed voices speaking quickly before Beulah returns, followed by the green hag and a young looking elven woman with pale white skin, brilliant white hair and grey eyes.
“Mother Pearl, Mother Lillian, hi! I apologise for bringing in guests this late, but we just came out of a fight with a corrupted water spirit. Is it alright if they stay for tea?” Zola asks.
Lillain – the green hag – looks elated. “Of course dearie, you and your friends settle in.”
She moves to go back to the kitchen but is stopped by Buelah, the red skinned hag.
“Come Lillian! Don’t be rude, make introductions first. Daughter Zola has brought friends.” She turns back to their group. “Beulah The Blooded,” she says with a warm smile at everyone before pointing to Lillian. “This is Lillian The Dreamer, master diviner. And this-” she waves to the pale elven woman, “Is Pearl The Feeble.”
Lillian seems to stand up a little more with something like pride as she is introduced but her smile remains in place as she winks at Zola. Pearl meanwhile takes on a somewhat demure appearance, almost blushing as she tilts her head in greeting to everyone, particularly Kavel and Ivan.
There is a very odd sense that washes over everyone as their names are announced formally, carrying a weight with them that seems to resonate and bounce around inside their heads as they are spoken. Something important, almost grounding about the scene somehow. Whether the sensation is noticed or not, Beulah seems to wait allowing everyone to introduce themselves in kind.
“It is a pleasure to meet three wise and long-lived ones such as yourselves,” Orianna says, bowing, resting her left hand against her chest. “My name is Orianna Èirigh. May the stars bless your lives and light your path,” she adds in an ancient, primordial tongue.
Orianna earns herself a smile from Beulah for her introduction.
From where he’s rooting around in various pockets and pouches for The Good Tea, Florian chimes in absentmindedly with, “Yeah, totally, blessed hunt, humble hunt,” also in a primordial tongue.
Before anyone else can introduce themselves, Zola goes in to hug both Lillian and Pearl. “Thank you both!”
Lillian embraces her deeply. “It’s good to see you dear.”
Pearl is like that awkward relative around children who hasn’t ever really had to hug anyone before. “Yes, it’s good to see you again, Daughter Zola, ok…”
The young drow turns to the party. “I’m going to go change out of this armour; please do make yourselves at home in the meantime.” And with that she runs upstairs.
“I am Kavel Castiron. Thank you for welcoming us into your home at this hour,” says the strong goliath.
Like Orianna, Ivan bows and introduces himself. “My name is Ivan Erikson. I have been by your daughter through some strange adventures and hope that there are many more to come. Thank you for a kind welcome and if I can add; your home is beautiful. But no comparison to your beauty and awe.” He smiles wide and warmly at the three women.
There is another nod and smile from Beulah to both Kavel and Ivan. Last to introduce himself is the wizard, who gives a short, sweeping bow.
“My name is Amble Brockskin. It is an honour to meet you, and humbling indeed to end a weary journey at your delightful home. This is my familiar,” an owl pops into existence on his shoulder. “Are they welcome to stretch their wings within these parts? I shouldn’t like them to intrude.”
Lillian bows in kind. Pearl initially does not respond. Beulah smiles.
“They are of course welcome to stretch their wings but, I cannot guarantee a larger predator will not hunt them down outside this clearing, Amble Brockskin.”
“Blessings be upon your hearth,” he adds in infernal, bizarrely, not to be outdone with the fancy languages.
At the greeting in infernal there is a noticeable response from all three. A slightly wider smile from Beulah, a raised eyebrow from Lillian and Pearl actually looks at Amble briefly but no words are said.
Florian doesn’t notice he hasn’t introduced himself by name. His Circle mainly uses the greeting he said and then busts out the good drugs. Keeping true to himself, he is already setting out a bunch of teas for the hags to peruse – as is another custom – and brew, should they find one they fancy.
As Florian presents the tea, there is another visible reaction from the trio. Beulah cocks her head to one side with an interested look in her eyes whilst Pearl narrows hers, but doesn’t maintain contact long.
Lillian, however, leans forward. “Ooooo lessee what the lad has with him,” she croons and starts picking through the offerings. “Ok, you two can carry this on. Me and the young man here need to talk tea.” She gently grabs Florian’s arm and whisks him off into the kitchen, the young druid grinning widely.
The rustic style kitchen has an immense wooden table in the centre which Florian is immediately deposited at. The far corner opens out into the base of the tower he had seen from outside and appears to be some sort of pantry – the very place Lillian disappears into, almost cooing to herself with glee before scurrying back out, her long thick looping white braids shifting heavily with each movement around her surprisingly small frame. She heavily drops a metal tin on the table in front of him.
“Now! Where shall we start, you certainly have a decent selection but we can’t have a friend of Zola’s going around without decent tea. Have you ever been to see the Oolor Meld? No? Here you go lad, take this one-” she says handing over an odd smelling bag to him. “Just make sure you’re somewhere safe when you drink it. And on your own… or not, it’s up to you, maybe you might like it?” She flashes him an inquisitive look which is met with an eyebrow wiggle before she carries on, not waiting for more of an answer. “Look at me going on! Where were we- Ah! Here you go. This is a staple for any collection. The orange is very subtle but the smoke is the real selling point,” she says, awkwardly dumping three black soft orbs that look like they may have once been oranges in a previous life in front of Florian. “Just make sure you remove the peel first. Don’t want it disintegrating in the water, no, can’t have that.”
Florian is paying attention like a child would to his favourite teacher. He is smelling stuff, ooo-ing and aah-ing at all the right places. He starts digging around in pockets for more things to give her in return and comes up with some shrooms, some weed, a cool flower he found and doesn’t recognize but hasn’t brewed anything with yet, and a root or two.
“Oooo!” she says, rooting through the roots and the flower. “Tea is an important part of life, lad. You can heal the soul, warm the heart and see the future if you look after it well. Make sure you keep this well stocked, y’hear!”
Florian doesn’t notice the weed mysteriously disappearing from the table.
“I always do, tante, thank you! This is awesome.”
Lillian practically beams at Florian, an odd but warming look from her green and wrinkled face across the table before going wide with realisation.
“I got so caught up I forgot to make the tea! Come on, you can help. There should be some hot water in the other room by the fire, bring it in and I’ll mix us something nice, sounds like you have had a busy day already.”
Orianna takes a look around the room. Nothing is jumping out initially but the longer they are in the room the more she starts to see. The room is simple but very cosy. There are a lot of natural wood themes with many floral and animal depictions carved into the comfortable furniture but it is otherwise a simple and welcoming room, with warmth provided from the fireplace. Which is where she notices the first interesting thing.
The fireplace is large – a massive section of stone built into the house and hollowed out to hold a huge fire. Around it, both inside and on the outer edges are carvings. They look incredibly old but are simple and crude, forming odd geometric patterns and symbols. Beside one of the comfortable chairs by the fire there is a well thumbed book on the floor that looks like one of the hags might have been reading but otherwise there are no other books or maps present here. There is, however, what looks like a mirror on the wall near the arch to the kitchen that has been covered in a thick red sheet and dozens of small iron nails in the ceiling that don’t look like they have been completely hammered in. These nails almost seem to be randomly scattered around. Certainly not the handiwork of any carpenter.
Drawn to the esoteric symbols, Orianna makes her way over to the fireplace, Amble close behind her. Neither of them find recognition in the symbols as they look more closely at them. Seeing their interest though, Beulah approaches from behind. Ivan notes Pearl is still standing where she was and gives him a small smile.
“I see you too appear to be interested in magic, yes? Witch Marks… There once was a time we were sought out by people far and wide to protect their homes with these markings and wards. Most have forgotten or found other protections now though.”
“What sort of protections would you offer people? What do all of these symbols mean? This one in particular,” Orianna points to a shape that looks like an eye.
“Whatever they wish… though each comes with a price of course,” Beulah answers. “Sometimes they fear something or someone specific, other times it could be something looser in it’s manifestation: bad luck, sleepless nights, the creeping terror under the black of night… That one is akin to a prayer of sorts, not to any deity but to the spirits around us, asking that we see the truth. Do you feel you need protection, Orianna Èirigh?”
“I do not, Wise One Beulah. But I can understand why people who have little can fear much. It is good, perhaps, that not many seek protections against the Chaos from beyond?”
“Indeed… and it sounds as though you have proven yourselves capable to some degree already today, but we shall hear more on that once the tea arrives… As for whether it is good or not remains to be seen. We are still busy despite the changing of traditions and turning of generations.”
Orianna perks up, very intrigued. “What sorts of things keep three Wise Ones so busy?” she asks.
Beulah smiles at Orianna. It’s friendly but there is a hint of something deeper behind it, something knowing and secretive.
“Whatever is needed of us. We are sought where we are needed… Lillian is quite infamous for her dreams and divinations. Pearl is, I suppose somewhat more akin to many other witches within the court; She trades in deals and bargains and favours. Though her reach extends quite far beyond this court alone.”
The red-skinned hag had turned in the direction of her sisters. They see Ivan attempting to string words together in some kind of seaman’s attempt at poetry but it was very apparent to all by the man’s proficiency with his axes did not extend to his delivery of fancy words.
Beulah turns back to Orianna. “But what about you child? Assisting a water spirit is no small feat! I presume Amble here played a part no doubt too?”
Taking the prompt, Amble clears his throat before speaking. “Myself, I am a wizard – an enchanter by inheritance on my Father’s side of the family. But I carry few spells of enchantment in my book. Unfortunately, he was betrayed by one of his colleagues, an old friend of the family, or so we thought. Fortunately, I escaped, and have been adventuring ever since. But I have been reluctant to acquire spells of enchantment up to now, since I have seen how they can be abused. I feel that I can risk playing gods, by wielding spells that shadow the perceived reality of others until I have the wisdom and the confidence in my understanding of the ethics involved.”
The young gnome finally takes a breath. “How do three with such power as yours keep a balance, and tread the border between light and dark?”
“Interesting… And was this ‘old friend’ ever revisited Amble? Escape is one thing but it does not sound as though you have resolved this matter of home and family yet. As for how we manage such things I’m afraid that is a little more complex than I feel we may have time for today, young wizard. Though do bear in mind, all powers may be bent to the whims of their handler. Not just enchantments…”
In the kitchen, Florian has been fully utilised in preparing the tea once he returns with water, mainly in stirring to agitate the mix and pour. When he comes back Lillian has prepared a collection of fresh herbs that she took into one hand before her. As her free hand waves over them, fingers dancing in a complex pattern, Florian sees them age and dry within seconds into a fine powder that she drops into a fine lace pouch before also chucking in one of the roots he had offered. She gives him a cheeky wink.
“Always good to have something personal to the mix. Come on now lad, let’s take this out, they’ll be waiting on us!”
Pearl flinches at the performance but only for a second before her eyes narrow and her smile widens. “Hmmm. Strong of the Body and possessive of manners I see but… perhaps lacking somewhat in the creativity field? Such a shame to have a perfect record marred in such a way.”
Kavel walks up to join Pearl and the former poet Eric, now Ivan again. She looks at the goliath, the smile still in place. “And another strong specimen too! I’m sure you were both invaluable in today’s adventures?”
“Yes. I was invaluable too. Although,” Kavel puts a goliath hand on his human comrades shoulder and shakes it, “my comrade Ivan here was more valuable for offence. I have never seen a human swing a greataxe quite like him. He dealt many punishing blows to the poisoned water spirit. Far more than me. For my part, I helped in a more defensive manner. The poisoned water spirit seemed to take more offence at me, meaning both; offence taken to her, and delivered from her to me. I mean no offence to my magically focused comrades, but if they absorbed the same level of punishment as I did today; they would be dead twice over. Fortunately for me, Mrs Pearl, I say strength comes first.”
Pearl raises an eyebrow, “Well I can certainly see you are quite conditioned Kavel Castiron… perhaps it is not only in name you are Castiron? I’d say it is a good thing given the beating you claim to have taken today.” She smiles a sweet smile.
“Would you consider yourself strong enough though, Kavel Castiron?” Pearl asks.
“Stronger than most. Equal to this great warrior beside me. But, I am young enough that I feel I could be stronger. There are more strength gains to be made without compromising movement. So no, despite my immense strength, I do think I am not as strong as I could be. Do you train Mrs. Pearl?”
“Oh, in ways… My training is of a different sort. But I can help people become stronger, if they desire.”
“... Do you mean like turning me into a werewolf?” Kavel asks, half frowning. “Three of my Iron Strong Brothers were recently turned. Tim and Sampson seem to have taken to it well. Kruger did not. We had to get him help and remove the lycanthropic curse. He was not happy with what he did under bloodlust, and he felt he never earned the strength gains. I agree with him.”
“Oh no, Lycanthropes are much too... hairy I find, but there are certainly other opt-”
“Well this won’t do!” Lillian says upon entering the main room, carrying the tea. “Come on! Sit down everyone! Oh bless you two over there, you must be frozen, standing by the fire! Come, come, this will warm you up and settle you in and you can tell us all about it!”
Beulah smirks at Lillian’s interruption but gestures Orianna and Amble to the seating area. Pearl looks slightly annoyed at the timing and half-heartedly waves Kavel and Ivan over as well. Florian is being shuttled and guided by Lillian directly to a comfortable armchair where she fusses over him for a few seconds, asking if he wants an extra cushion and providing one regardless of what answer is given. Zola comes padding down the stairs barfoot, wearing a simple sleeveless white dress having completely changed out of her adventuring gear.
She takes a cup of tea, enjoying the aroma before sipping. “Wow, you guys have gotten along already.”
Lillian is the first to answer. “Well of course dearie, it’s not often you bring home such wonderful friends!”
Pearl is quiet but daintily sits in one of the chairs with a sigh.
Beulah follows with, “It is good to have you home, Daughter Zola. But tell us about this trouble you had with the spirit? Do you need some help?”
“Oh, the spirit has been cleansed now, but it is strange,” Zola explains. “Reka, the mermaid in the lake by the Mountain Palace, called on us to help her. It’s the water spirit of Spriteswell Depths. Someone left necromantic pebbles on the shore and desecrated her shrine…” Zola looks at Amble, Florian, and Orianna, seeing if they can fill in the details.
The tiefling picks up her cue. “Florian and I dove into the waters, seeking to cleanse the shrine. The waters in front of and around the shrine were obscured, murky with corruption. It took destroying some of the water to be able to see what was on the shrine.” She inclines her head in thanks at the tea being served, taking a deep breath of the scent in the cup. Orianna frowns as she continues, her lower lip sticking out a little.
“There was a body, bloated, secreting a dark, oily-like substance and weighted down. It appeared to have been placed there deliberately.”
“I was a shark and then an eel,” Florian says, almost entirely addressing the mouse none of them had noticed he had found. He feeds it a little bit of bread. “Orianna did most of our part. She’s super cool.”
She flushes a little. “You helped keep me safe, Florian. We did this together. Without you, making sure to close my wounds, I might not have made it.”
“A body? Like a corpse?” Zola is a little mortified.
Orianna nods. “Yes… It appeared to be humanoid… But it was so bloated, so bulbous I could not tell if it was elf, dragonborn, or goliath.” She looks at Florian to confirm if he saw anything different, but he shakes his head.
Zola looks between them and her mothers, particularly at Lillian. “Could it have been an accident? Someone fell into the waters and drowned…? But still, it seems very strange…”
“You were on the shores, Amble. What were you doing?” Orianna asks the gnome.
“I was fishing out and destroying these curious stones that I found. It seemed to me that they were a significant part of the puzzle that were somehow providing energy for the dark powers in the waters. Here-”
He takes a pebble out from his pocket, holding it on his palm so all could see it.
“I could detect a significant necromantic influence, which seemed to be pulling on the energies around it… No, that’s not quite right. Sucking, almost? Feeding? But that’s not quite right either. As soon as I struck them with my magic, or plucked them from the waters, this perceived energy appeared to dissipate, almost instantaneously. So perhaps we must submerge them again, if they are able to become magically ‘active’ once again.”
Amble tosses the pebble up into the air as he continues. “Not only was their own force sundered by my actions, but it seemed that each time I did this, the waters became a little clearer, and the dark powers started to lose their sway a little more.”
He catches it and holds the pebble tightly in his fist. “Have you ever come across such a thing before?” Amble asks the three hags. “Perhaps we might investigate these together, either this evening if you think it pressing, otherwise on the morrow might suffice.”
“Well, that is one theory I feel we can test out now,” Beulah says, reaching for a small pot with water in, tucked away in the alcove of the fire.
She places it on the small table amidst the group and gestures for Amble to try. “As it was your suggestion I think it only fair you do us the honours young Amble. As for whether we’ve heard of this before-”
Pearl speaks up, “-we can cover that after this little... experiment,” she says, almost solemnly.
Zola steps closer to the table to watch this ‘experiment’. Orianna leans in from her side of the table, whilst Kavel leans over Amble. Florian can be heard asking the mouse if it is having a nice day. Lillian hands Florian some large crumbs of biscuit.
Ivan sees this and is very confused by what’s happening, especially the friendly nature toward a mouse in a house.
Amble begins to weave his magic, channelling detect magic through his crystal focus. Once that was complete, his eyes seemed to twinkle even more than usual in the light of the fire. He reaches up to the pot and drops in one of the stones, with a rather bathetic plop.
The stone sinks and clunks to the bottom of the pot, the ripples on the surface of the water slowly dissipating as everyone gathers around craning to see what happens to the stone. There are a tense few seconds of waiting until finally the silence is broken.
“I think it’s fair to say this isn’t working…” Pearl says with a sigh.
Lillian pats Amble on the shoulder. “It was a good idea though lad, don’t mind her tone,” she says, casting a look at Pearl.
“I had expected as much sadly. Still the stones are an interesting addition to things.” Beulah adds, picking the stone back out of the water and examining it with scrutiny for a moment before tossing it back to Amble.
“Well at least it seems that the stones themselves have not become indefinitely tainted,” the young gnome says. “If it would help our investigation, then you would be welcome to read my thoughts, if you are able, to see what you can divine from my memories?”
Florian sets the mouse on top of his head so it can have a good view of the proceedings and chimes in. “I still think they were like a cleansing tool. Maybe the water spirit sprinkled them around to try and clean up the body goo.”
“Well, from your end of the lake, did you druids notice any changes in the waters, or in the integrity of those mutant creatures – which were unrelated to your own activities?” Amble asks.
“I mean I was a shark and then an eel trying to stop another eel from eating Orianna.”
“Was the eel another water spirit?” Zola inquires.
“The corruption around the shrine created the eel we faced, as well as other water creatures. But they started to lose their form after a time. I cannot say for sure if it’s because of what you were doing Amble,” Orianna nods to the gnome, “or if it was because of what you were doing,” she nods to the strike team. “The corruption itself was alive, although the creatures it made were not real animals.”
Beulah speaks up. “That would make sense from what we have seen. To answer your earlier question Amble, yes we have come across something similar before-”
Pearl looks visibly a little annoyed now but remains quiet.
“-though not with these stones being found. Another mutilated and blackened body was found half buried near Osarbreach.”
“Is there anything special about Osarbreach?” asks Amble. “The body too, did it seem similar in nature to the one that we found? A similar creature, before whatever happened to it?”
“Not in so much as to expect something like this.”
“Caused a right mess of one of the family farmsteads out there. Had all sorts coming down for divinations… It was a busy week!” Lillian adds.
Zola looks stunned. “What? Well, this is surely not a coincidence then. Why would someone do this? Assuming it’s someone…”
“Were you able to determine what creature the body was?” Orianna asks, her eyes drawn to Pearl.
There is a look exchanged among the trio before they collectively turn back to the group.
“We’re not sure dear-” Lillian says to Zola.
“Slaad-” is the one word answer Pearl gives to Orianna.
“And yes, I think someone put it there on purpose, Daughter Zola,” Beulah finishes. “But the who and why Lillian has not been able to see yet.”
Zola’s concern is palpable as she looks at the three women. “Has anyone from Queen Nicnevin’s court been informed, Mothers?”
“No, not yet Daughter. We only found the one and it was dealt with. This other and the stones means we must now though,” Pearl answers.
She nods. “I’ll be off to the Mountain Palace to see Sarin tomorrow, I can deliver a message if you’d like.”
“That would be good, Daughter Zola,” Pearl answers again.
Florian has been refilling their cups with tea. When he turns to Orianna’s cup her gaze is turned inward, thoughtful.
“Why would creatures of Limbo be used in such a way? Hmmm…” the young tiefling mutters. She turns to Lillian. “Wise One Lillian, I could possibly assist you divine some answers if you would allow one such as I that honour.” Orianna gestures to the crescent crystal topping her staff. “Perhaps the stars of more than one realm will help lead to some answers.”
“Oooo not often one offers us help!” Lillian cackles. “But if you like you can certainly try, young one. Perhaps some of what you have seen today might help.”
Orianna’s budding confidence withers a little. “Sometimes the stars speak to me. Most of the time they are silent. But there’s no harm in trying, right?”
“There certainly isn’t dear!” she says with a big smile. Again, Orianna notices the slightly odd expression on the green hags face yet it is oddly comforting nonetheless. “Come! If it’s the stars that speak to ye we should head outside.”
Lillain stands up and starts to head for the door. Orianna hesitantly stands up but hears Florian softly whisper, “You got this, you’re badass,” lightly touching her arm. She gives him a grateful look and swiftly follows the diviner outside.
Lillian heads round the house to the side where a fire pit had been seen earlier when they arrived.
“I usually do this alone but we can make a few adjustments to suit your talents dear. Have you tried much divination before?” She carries on not allowing time for an answer. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine, dear, clever thing like you.”
As she reaches the fire pit, Lillian grabs a handful of ash and throws it into the air with a twist of her fingers. Instead of dispersing into a cloud on the wind, however, the ashes seem to spiral and elongate, twirling as they slowly descend to the ground in a wide circle of ash that floats and slowly spins about a foot off the ground. She moves to one side of the circle, facing the house. From within her robes she pulls out a handful of ancient looking bones carved with odd tiny runes – a little similar to the mark that Reka provided earlier today – and rattles them in her hand as she waves Orianna to the other side so she will be facing out into the clearing.
“Just here dear, that’s it. Now, how do you channel?”
Tentatively, Orianna steps up to the side of the circle of ashes, holding her staff in both hands. She shifts her weight from hoof to hoof nervously, looking over her shoulder at Florian, Zola, and Amble who had followed her and Lillian outside.
“Well, it depends. I’m used to doing this in an Observatory. The few times I’ve done this on my own I’ve… passed out,” she mutters the last words, barely above a whisper. She pushes on. “But when I have done this with others we’ve done a type of dance…”
She looks at her Cradle, closes her eyes, and holds out a hand, palm up. The crescent begins to glow, gathering into a ball in her palm. When enough light has gathered Orianna tips her hand and it hits the firepit, lighting it with a blue-white flame. Extending the staff over the fire, light passes through it projecting stars and constellations above their heads in a crescent shape, a mix of those from the Material Plane and some from the very heavens they stand under in the Witching Court.
“O my Mother Nuit, stretch Yourself over me, that I may be placed among the imperishable stars which are in You, to divine what is, was, and will be,” she sing-songs in primordial.
Then she opens her eyes. Her pupils, normally softly reflecting any light, have changed to be white slits, her irises bleeding out to be the fire of blue suns and nebulae. She looks at Lillian briefly, smiles giddily as her form begins to glow, and then she throws her arm up, the crescent crystal dissolving into flames that wrap around her wrists and ankles, still showing her star map all around her as her clothes and equipment melt away, her form becoming iridescent white as wings spring from her back.
“You can help too, young one!” Lillian smiles at Amble. “Just place yourself here-” she points to one edge of the ash circle as it’s made. “-that’s it!”
In a very professional and workmanlike fashion, Amble politely asks, “Would it help proceedings if I was to take my clothes off too?”
Seeing no indication to the contrary, Amble thinks this through briefly. From his two experiences, it was certainly his preferred approach to travelling via Water Portal. He’s since been reflecting on what other Arcane matters freeing oneself from the confines of clothing and material trappings might help with.
He decides to follow his intuition, and his core beliefs that an empirical approach is the best way to deepen one’s knowledge of practising the arcane arts to the fullest.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” he mutters to himself.
He gets undressed in an efficient, but unhurried fashion, making a neat pile of clothes on the ground. Then he walks over to the circle and joins the others.
Florian, who had been clutching his large mug of tea in one hand and the mouse in the other, is now discussing how all the mouse’s siblings are doing in mouse school. But when he looks up, he sees Amble is naked.
“Nah bruh, this isn’t that kind of party. Yet anyway. But by all means, do you, as long as everyone consents.” He nods sagely.
On his way over, Amble pauses briefly as a thought occurs to him. A smile briefly appears on his face, and his crystal glows for an instant as he casts minor illusion. His body is enrobed in a pseudo celestial leotard, which almost manages to follow his movements as he continues on his way. The magical ‘lag’ is not helped by the fact that he’s alternating concentration on prestidigitation to generate a sparkly trail, as if from a starry cloak, cascading, glittering from off his shoulders. It would take more concentration, if not for the fact that the stars don’t have very far to fall before they hit the ground.
Zola quietly observes under her breath, “They would make good Eilistraeeans if they were drow.”
Kavel walks outside, curious to see what’s going on, bringing his tea with him. He sees a pile of gnome clothes, then sees a, seemingly to his eyes, clothed gnome in garments different to what he was wearing. Kavel takes a sip of his tea. Sees Orianna’s winged starry forms, takes another sip of tea, and goes back in the house.
“Hey Ivan. I think Comrade Amble is naked again. He was naked earlier when we both got into baths at Fort Ettin. Now I just think he likes being naked.”
“We should join them outside,” Beulah says in a soft but somewhat commanding tone. Pearl stands and heads through to the kitchen as Beulah ushers Kavel and Ivan out.
Outside, Orianna has started to dance. Lillian stops to look at Amble’s approach as he takes his place, her face not betraying her thoughts as she, somewhat out of her normal jovial speech pattern, simply says, “Right… very forthcoming for the studious type I see. But I’ll need to-”
Pearl interrupts her coming from around the back of the house, “I’ve got them, don’t worry,” she says, walking up to the circle and handing Lillian another set of bones and several strands of hair. Lillian beams her crooked smile and turns back to the circle.
“Young man, if you’re ready, throw them little stones into the air and begin to channel through them, thinking back on the spirit… Young Lady, you channel through the centre of the circle too, if you can through the young man’s crystals… whatever constellation speaks to you most. I’ll handle the rest.”
Amble concentrates hard, cupping both of his hands together around his many-coloured crystals of various shapes and sizes. He seems to blow into his hands, with an intense susurrus of incantation, before reaching out, and then casting them a short distance up and in front of him, towards the night sky. The stones flick up into the air and seem to freeze in place, hovering about six of the ground.
As she is about to start, Florian shuffles over to Lillian and quietly asks if there’s anything he can help with.
She smiles widely. “Of course lad. Take up a spot there, next to me… How do you practice your talents?”
His face lights up with an excited smile. He takes out his small pots of oil paints and a brush, showing them to her. “The gods guide me. I invoke their help with symbols and then I feel them in the land around me. Maybe…” He trails off in thought as he tries to think of an appropriate god to invoke for the occasion. None spring directly to mind and he looks to Lillian, floundering. “...Uh. Maybe, uh…” He draws the last syllable out, hoping she’ll complete his sentence for him.
She gives a knowing look. “Maybe something older than remembered names dearie. Think of the trees, the wind whispering on a cool night, the feel of rain on your skin and the smell of summer.”
The young druid nods, eyes wide with realisation. He picks up the brush and dips it into the clay pot with red paint, quickly drawing identical runes in each of his palms before setting all of it aside on the grass. He straightens up and looks at Orianna across the small circle before taking his place opposite Amble. Holding his hands out with his palms facing inwards towards the fire he closes his eyes briefly and takes a deep breath before letting out slowly. As he opens his eyes again, the runes on his palms catch fire. The flames lick up his arms, snaking around his torso and neck before his eyes begin to glow with the same heat. From his hands, orange sparks dance around the circle, mingling with the blue and white flames from Orianna’s fire. He smiles quietly and looks through the dancing motes of fire and light at her, nodding.
Her movements started out slow, the wings on her back beating a rhythmic pattern that is syncopated by her cloven feet. Orianna moves her arms through the air, fingers reaching up as flames of starlight lick her arms, plucking at the constellations around her, trying to find the right one.
As her arms circle around tracing ancient and forgotten symbols, the fire trailing behind her, a constellation reaches out to her: the bear. Just as she is about to twine her fingers through the nebulous fur manifesting, her hand brushes another smaller constellation: the rat. It darts up from the flames, across her chest as the dance calls for her to arch back, her tail helping to keep balance. Orianna feels a moment of serenity, the wings of her dragon form wrapping around her as she holds both of these precious answers close.
Then she suddenly spins around and lets them go, directing both constellations to pass into Amble’s crystals.
Lillian casts her eyes over the three of them as each channels their own powers into the ritual before her own eyes seem to darken, as if they have been completely swallowed by shadows. She throws the collection of bones and hair into the circle too.
The crystals thrown by Amble begin to glow in the moonlight, mixing with the blue light of the fire created by Orianna to cast a hazy purple light in the circle. Meanwhile, the constellations focused on by Orianna flit into the centre, rising up to meet the crystals and slowly begin rearranging them where they hang in the air, taking on the shape of the constellations themselves and causing the light to refract and dance below as the circle of ash begins to spin.
The bones thrown by Lillian tumble into the centre and freeze in place, much like the crystals above, only these form two layers within the circle, the first at equal height with the spinning ash circle, the second hanging just beneath the glowing crystals. The hair meanwhile slowly descends among them.
As if on cue, a wind fragrant with wild flowers begins to blow in from behind Florian, entering the circle and catching the strands of hair, sending them dancing through stones and causing a plume of purple smoke and dust to erupt from the fire, creating a galactic backdrop to the scene of bones and crystals and dancing light.
After a few moments, as Lillian continues to flex and shape the collection of energies with her fingers, the strands all begin to latch onto the bones she has thrown in – delicate strands stretching vertically through the circle like a tapestry forming before them all, the light glistening on the taut strands as they fit into place one by one.
The wind picks up and begins to howl around them, a sense of rushing and quickening as a veritable storm kicks up, threatening to push each of them over as Amble, Orianna, Florian and Lillian focus their efforts until very suddenly and without warning, there is silence.
The wind has stopped and hanging in the air is a delicate web of silvery strands that spans the gap of the bones and crystals. Each of them feel the release of energy as the spells and powers they were focusing on seem to have been pulled out and splayed before them, and each of them relax into the scene as Lillian steps into the circle, deftly avoiding touching any of the strands as she moves among them.
There are a long few moments of watching as she quietly murmurs to herself, examining the strands but not touching them, moving along to the next, comparing it to the last until eventually her black eyes widen.
“This here is new…”
She gently flicks the strand with an elongated finger. Amble, Orianna and Florian are hit simultaneously by a vivid flash of a vision.
-the lake of the Spirit, Spriteswell Depths – it looks healthy and clear with animals around it – peaceful-
Lillian moves to another strand and taps this one, eliciting another flash.
-the lake again, only now a woman stands on the shore – her face is hidden beneath a deep hood-
She doesn’t seem satisfied with what she sees, however and looks up and down the strand, tapping it further up.
-the lake again, the woman is still present, but now a black fog surrounds her, almost seeming to bleed out of her hooded face and flow around her-
Lillian’s face begins to turn into a scowl in distaste as she reaches out to tap another strand.
-the lake waters have parted and the hooded figure is seen walking out of the lake back onto shore, a bloody and black body left at the shrine as the water closes back in-
“So it was on purpose… Hmm…”
Her hands begin to dance among the strands sending a volley of flashes into each of their heads.
-the water spirit writhing in pain-
-a black cloud spreading over plants and draining them of life-
-a door left open with black energy flowing through into… somewhere far away-
Lillian stops for a moment and surveys the strands left untouched, inspecting for something unknown before settling on the last strand. She looks between the others around the circle and gently strokes this one. The vision comes again, though much smoother than the others.
-the waters of the lake, clean once again…. a scene of peace and calm that sends a feeling of serenity through them-
“You have done well, young ones,” Lillian smiles, even stranger now with her eyes turned black. “Whatever foul presence had tainted the lake you have reverted before any permanent damage could be done. You have done well.”
Then she closes her eyes. When she opens them again, they have returned to their normal colour and the collection of bones, crystals and hairs fall to the floor with a clatter, breaking the scene.
Beulah and Pearl stand to one side, waiting expectantly for Lillian’s verdict.
“She is powerful, whoever she is. And clever. Concealing herself in shadows to hide her presence, but it was there. Whatever she is up to, she is feeding on the darkness she leaves behind. I’d assume the young ones’ stones act as a conduit to her.”
Pearl and Beulah both exchange a concerned look for a second before Pearl walks back to the house. “Yes ok, I’ll go look for them.” Beulah briefly strokes Pearl’s shoulder as she walks off before turning back to the group and settling on Zola.
“You will need to inform your friend of this too, Daughter Zola. The court should know.”
Meanwhile, Lillian has already returned to Orianna, Amble and Florian.
“Come now dearies, you all did magnificently. I’m sure you must be tired though. Let’s get you another tea. No I won’t take no for an answer, come on!” She starts to shuttle them all back to the house.
Orianna, feeling exhausted but not to the point of passing out, is thinking about how wonderful a revitalising cup of tea would be as she slowly lets go of the starlight in her body, when she spots Amble. It confuses her at first, the double image of his small form walking away and the afterimage of what appears to be a glittery, star dusted uniform. Then it dawns on her, as she begins to shift back into her normal form, what his poorly executed ‘costume’ is meant to emulate. She flushes a deep violet, her ears burning into a brighter periwinkle blue.
Clasping her staff in her hand, she quickly steps past everyone, muttering a soft, “Excuse me, Wise Ones,” to the hags before making a beeline straight for the house, her shoulders hunching forward, as she curls in on herself.
As they head in, Amble suddenly stops and thinks, then says, “Shouldn’t one or more of us return, once more, to the Spirit of Water, to inform her of this, and ensure that she knows what happened, so that she might protect against it happening again? She might also have other details to share that we have not yet gleaned, or been able to divine… Perhaps even to serve word to Reka the Mermaid too, and any others in this land who might be likely victims of this Evil?!”
“I reckon the water spirit might want to be left alone for now… To let herself heal. Don’t worry, I’ll send word to the Queen’s right-hand, tomorrow. Her ladyship will take care of everything, I’m sure,” Zola says with a reassuring, albeit concerned, smile.
“Reka is also more than capable of communicating with the spirit herself if she needs to.” Beualh adds.
Amble stops and gets changed, before crossing the threshold to come back inside. He is slightly more aware of his clothes than usual, and made slightly uncomfortable by their omnipresence over the surface of his body. Not quite enough to be aware of this consciously, but he will absent-mindedly fiddle with the fabric, and smooth it down without thinking.
“So…” he begins, “You say that the Osarbreach body might have been a Slaad. Do you know what type, and do we know which type the body was that we encountered? It’s hard not to put the word Slaad together with all of this necromantic magic, and consider the involvement of Death Slaadi or Gray Slaadi in particular, perhaps even that woman that we thought we saw… Either way, the Queen must warn her subjects to be extra vigilant, to understand that looks might be deceiving, even more so than usual. Also to come forward immediately (especially those near one of these bodies) if they consider themselves at all at risk of having been… implanted… by a Slaadpole. I will have some more reading to do when I get back to the material plane.”
“The ‘Osarbreach body’ was indeed a Slaad young one, a Green one to be precise. But we did not have the chance to examine the one in the lake to confirm if it was the same,” Beulah answers.
Meanwhile, Lillian has procured another tea and appeared by Orianna’s side, presenting her with the cup and a warm smile. The young tiefling accepts it gratefully, holding her star cradle close, the smallest smile tipping her lips up.
Pearl comes walking down the stairs (which seems remarkably fast given she only went inside moments before everyone else), holding a tall staff of gnarled grey wood. She stops at the bottom of the stairs and looks around the room with a serious expression before settling on Beulah for a moment. There is the briefest of exchanges between them, a slight wrinkling of the nose from Pearl and a returned, slightly softer matching expression from Beulah. This is then repeated with Lillian who, again, returns the expression.
Florian grabs the mouse still sitting on top of his head and brings it close to his face.
“That’s the cutest shit I’ve ever seen,” he whispers, before gently setting it back down on the floor.
Finally, Pearl turns to Zola.
“Daughter Zola. Don’t be so long next time,” she says and heads towards the back door.
“Of course, Mother Pearl, but where are you going?”
She stops in the door and looks around with a look like it should be obvious to everyone. “To look for these stones in Osarbreach.”
“Well, alright, have a safe journey!” Zola calls out.
There is a brief nod from Pearl before she turns out the door and heads off.
“Well… you certainly seemed to have stumbled onto something strange here Daughter Zola,” Beulah says. “I don’t suppose you have found anything else while you were down Spriteswell way?”
“Aside from the lack of wildlife around, which were probably scared off by the angry water spirit, nothing else of note. Right guys?” Zola replies, turning to her companions once more for confirmation.
Orianna nods, holding her tea close. “Nothing else that I recall.”
“Perhaps that’s for the best for now… Wouldn’t want you stumbling into something unprepared now,” Lillian says.
“Yes. It’s certainly more than we expected though. If Pearl finds similar stones that should confirm it’s the same person doing this… but it doesn’t give us much else to go on I’m afraid to say,” Beulah adds.
There is a moment of quiet as Beulah seems to think while Lillian busies herself tending to everyone’s tea, refilling cups that have barely been touched.
“Whatever this woman or… thing is planning, do be careful young ones… she is clearly dangerous to poison the Spriteswell spirit. But if you do happen to come across anything, I assure you, we would be most interested to hear it. For now, however, is there anything else you need from us? As lovely as it is having friends of Daughter Zola visit, I think we may have some work to do of our own now.”
“Are you able to return us to the Material Plane, Wise Ones?” Orianna asks. “Ivan and I came from Daring Heights…” she trails off looking at the others, unsure where they came from. “Would we be able to return there?”
Lillian answers with the same smile, “Of course dearie. Wherever you need, I can send you.”
Her smile is small but in her reflective eyes, Orianna’s gratitude is immense. “It is most appreciated, Wise One Lillian. It was an incredible honour to divine the stars with you,” she adds as she stands, bowing her head. “I have never done so with others of different practices before. It was… exhilarating.”
“Oh hush now, dear. You performed marvellously,” Lillian says waving a hand at Orianna as Beulah chuckles. “All of you did. And now we have a little more to work on too, thanks to your input.” She gives Orianna a little shoulder rub, like a mother figure telling a child they did a good job.
“It has been a pleasure, friends of Zola,” Beulah smiles at everyone.
“It has, yes. Right! Is everyone ready? Have you got your tea lad? Go and grab it quick,” Lillian adds, sending Florian scuttling back to the kitchen to collect his new supplies.
“OK, who’s going where?”
Amble approaches Lillian and Beulah and says, “It has truly been an honour meeting you all. I hope that we will have another chance to work magic together, and to speak further of such things. I know that my powers can’t compare to your own. However, I would like to say that if you ever have need of me, or think that I may be of assistance: as a wizard or as a researcher and sage of matters Arcane, then please do reach out to me.”
He reaches into a pocket. “Please also take this, as a gift: it is a crystal shard from the body of an ancient guard golem of the city of Gadenthor, that I helped to defeat on a previous adventure. Also these,” Amble pulls out three metallic fletchets, “which formed a part of the automatic defence system of the city, which was animated with technically magic, which seemed to be of a kind with the forces of Lightning. I won these treasures on the same day that I cast the Augury spell that I used tonight, for the first time, aside from a few trivial, practice castings in my room.
“If you ever wish to find me, then you need do only three things: Firstly, recite an incantation, which must be spoken three times – ‘Itivz ezzre lah simiz zuhome.*’ Secondly, click together the heels of your boots. Thirdly, travel to find me as you would any other person!” He beams up at Lillian and Beulah before suddenly clearing his throat. “…I’m working on reducing this to the first two steps only, but for now, this is the best I can do, unless you can suggest something better?”
Beulah and Lillian exchange a look with each before letting out a soft chuckle. “Thank you Amble Brockskin for the gifts,” Beulah says, kindly taking them. “However, we have our own ways of finding you if we need to. In the meantime, do keep trying to perfect that ritual.”
As the group gather around Lillian, a look of recognition flashes across her aged face as she wanders off into the kitchen, returning moments later carrying a small jar under her arm.
One by one, she asks the friends of Zola where they would like to be sent off to before pressing into their hands a single gingersnap biscuit each, ignoring any protests from anyone before smiling and gently tapping them on the forehead. Each of them sees one another pop out of sight from the room as this happens. When their turn comes to be tapped, they hear a crack and feel as though they have been thrust backwards at some speed, all in the space of a second, before feeling the chill air around them as they arrive standing outside each of their chosen destinations. Orianna and Ivan stand in Portal Plaza of Daring Heights, Amble and Kavel stand outside Fort Ettin’s main gate, and Florian – who was secretly passed not one but three biscuits – finds himself standing on the Bridge leading into New Hillborrow.
*Infernal phrase that roughly translates to, ‘There is no place like Gnome.’