The Devil Went Down to Dawnlands - Glint prepares Sorrel

Sorrel, resin up your bow and pull your bowstring hard. 'Cause Hell's broke loose in Dawnlands, and the devil deals the cards.

Written with the expansive imagination of the learned Youki

Sorrel steps into the foyer of the academy and briefly reflects on her earlier visits. She had found the place daunting and felt awkward and clumsy. It seemed like centuries had passed.

She didn’t recognise the porter, but she’d long learned the crucial technique when infiltrating controlled spaces - palaces, barracks, prisons or academies. If you walk with purpose and carry a banal object people don’t notice you. It’s as if their eyes slip off you. Most of the time a book is perfect and so it proves. Within minutes she is outside Glints door looking casually bored. She gives a brisk knock.

“Yes, I’ll be with you in a second! Or you can try and come in, but you’d better be very flexible,” Glint’s voice replies from behind the door, as playful as ever when he was in a formal environment.

Sorrel could never refuse such a challenge. She pulls the door open and beams "Glint! How..." she pauses. Through some trick of the light, or a magically induced warping of matter, this room is smaller on the inside than it appears on the outside. Somehow a desk, a bookshelf and a Glint have been crammed in and most available surfaces are covered in nearly finished, semi-finished, hardly started or barely conceived of manuscripts. "... how do I get in? Is there a trick to it?"

Glint brightens up immediately. “Sorrel! What a pleasure!” He gives his meagre space a look over. “Ah, yes, I’m not at the office often nowadays, rarely have any visitors… There is a trick, yes!” He winks. “Just think of the desk as an upper level of the floor,” he says, removing some of the papers and clearing a path towards a chair crammed into the opposite corner.

The devil jumped up on a hickory stump and said, "boy, let me tell you what"

Sorrel nods and recalls the deep grass rabbit walk stealth technique of the Dark Basement infiltration unit. She adopts a low crouch, placing her hands on the desk, placing the balls of her feet on top of her hands and slowing her breathing to keep her ribs as motionless as possible.

She flexes through the Five Movements - the quail, the badger, the floating foot, the fox, and the dog - and makes it to a seated position retaining most of the skin from at least one of her knees.

"Nice place," she nods.

Glint waves her off. “I’ve got it allocated when I wiggled my way into the Academy. As you understand, it was meant to encourage me to stay. It has one definite benefit,” he lifts a finger and a couple of moments pass in complete silence. “It’s very quiet. I come here sometimes to work. Just as well that I don’t need light,” he gestures to his fiery hair. “But enough about me. I haven’t seen you since our little outing in the bog. I must say I’m glad to see you in good health,” he reaches out and gives Sorrel’s hand a gentle squeeze. He leans back after a long moment. “So, how can I help? A new creature to study? Or another expedition to embark on?”

Sorrel smiles. "The place suits you for now, but I've always imagined you in a much bigger office I confess," she shrugs. "I don't know why. I suppose I picture you in a room lined with bookshelves, the floor covered in piles of them, a desk, a window and an empty fireplace. Call it a vision. They seem commonplace these days. Visions, I mean, not large rooms."

She writhes a little. "You see, right now would be the ideal moment for one of us to start pacing. Imagine me pacing just for effect. I'd probably be excitable, and you might have to calm me down with tea. And I'd be reminded of the glorious sunset, and I'd ask about Root and how that was going. And I am interested in that so let's start there but I suspect you would gradually become aware that I had something quite serious to ask you and I wasn't sure how to begin. But first, how's Root?"

Glint smiles and flicks his fingers. The walls expand and furniture morphs until the office becomes exactly like the one Sorrel has just described. She sees through the illusion easily, and Glint chuckles.

“Well, it was worth a try,” he says with an awkward gesture that is still limited by the walls around. Instead, he settles with an illusion of a miniature Sorrel pacing across the desk.

“I hope this makes you a bit more comfortable,” Glint says. “Root is very well, thanks for asking,” he adds, absentmindedly tugging at his collar to bring it up slightly. “All over his newest greenhouse addition - a flower from the Evenbloom Hill. I gave that thing a week at best, just wanted him to see it bloom at sunset a couple of times. But of course, he had a bit of Feywild soil, it’s Root we’re talking about!”

He shrugs helplessly. “I imagine he’s probably fawning all over his new baby even as we speak!” He settles back with a fond smile, but then his eyes focus on Sorrel again, and he shakes his head. “But anyway, how are things with you? I heard you’re settling down so to speak!” He looks at her with a mix of pride and cheer.

Sorrel blushes and is hideously aware of it. "It's very strange," she nods. "I mean, she has a house. An actual house. And I don't find my skin crawling when I walk into it. Although there was a very nasty moment recently when I realised I was in danger of becoming my mother." She shudders. "Something to watch out for."

She pauses. "And, honestly, I have you and Nana to thank for that. The sunset... that was an important moment for me as well as for you. It did change things - both you and her made me see things differently." She scratches her head. "Although for the life of me I couldn't put my finger on what specifically you did. But you did it."

She watches Tiny Sorrel pace, her hands gesticulating dramatically. She decides that, right now, she needs illusions. Reality can be a little too real. "Glint, would you mind recreating that room? Even if I know it isn't real, I want to be in it when I ask you this..."

Glint’s smile fades a bit as the seriousness of situation dawns on him but by tiny bit. He nods and waves his hand around, making the room appear more spacious. Sorrel can feel the draft from the window on her face, and the warmth of the freshly put out fireplace. The room smells of old books and lilac.

“I’m glad I was somewhat useful,” Glint nods. “And nan… well, yes, she does work in mysterious ways. But there’s a reason our family sticks with her for generations.” He taps his fingers on the desk. “But you don’t look like you’re here to ask about the best curtains to go in the living room…”

Give the Devil his due

Believing as hard as she can in the room Sorrel unstraps her armour and raises her shirt hoping that sheer belief will defy the laws of physics that make extravagant movement impossible in the confined space. And so it proves. It takes barely a minute to expose the fiendish brand on her skin. The strange pattern stretches the length of her torso and already looks like it’s been there forever.

“This is the symbol of a sect of Shar worshippers, sworn enemies of Selûne, my goddess,” she explains as casually as she can. “There is a struggle that has lasted for longer than this world grown to new strife as they launch another attack. There is a small group of us trying to hold them back - a full scale assault would bring Hell to the Dawnlands - and they come to us in our dreams to torment and brand us. This is like a tracking device. But I thought, if they can track us, is there a way we can use it to track them? And I thought you, so wise, and Nana, who knows the wiles of Hell, might know or be able to find a way.”

She smiles weakly. “I’m asking you to save me for a second time…”

Glint frowns as he looks over the brand with an almost clinical impassiveness. “It does look rather unpleasant. I’m afraid fiends are not exactly my field of expertise. It feels like a type of scrying using an anchor, but I’m not good at it…” he rubs his eyes and looks at Sorrel apologetically. “I’m afraid all I can offer in terms of saving is to do try digging something up in the library on establishing a backwards link to a scryer. Do you think that would help at all?”

“Glint, given that I know as much about scrying as I do about belly dancing I defer entirely to you on whether it would help or not,” Sorrel shrugs.

She pauses. “Perhaps I should stress that I don’t know anything about belly dancing for that metaphor to truly work.”

“My sister has a performer group in Zakhara, so I admit to being a bigger expert in belly dancing than in scrying,” Glint says, radiating false modesty. As his eyes land on the brand again, his face falls and he gives a grim nod. “I’ll look into it then. Scrying, that is, not belly dancing. Would you… like to talk to my nan then? In case she knows anything about it?”

"Well, actually, now you come to mention it, that's probably a good idea. I didn't think of that. Why not?" Sorrel says, almost convincingly.

Glint nods and waves a hand, closing his eyes in concentration. The flame on his head flickers, as if from a gust of wind. The light returns to the room momentarily.

The devil's in the House of the Rising Sun

“Why if it’s not Sorrel Darkfire, at my service and my family’s!” Alessiss chuckles, lying on the table between the two adventurers in a picturesque pose. She turns to Glint momentarily. “And my darling boy!” She pinches his cheek affectionately. “Oh! Is that a new hickey? Aw, you little lovebirds are so cute!” She coos.

“Nan, please,” Glint says without a shadow of blush on his red skin. “Can you take a look at Sorrel?”

“With pleasure!” With a predatory smile, Alessiss turns back to Sorrel and peers into her with her eyes that are currently pretending to be black and deep as wells.

Sorrel blushes enough for her and Glint and tries to look incredibly casual.

"Oh, Alessiss, hi there," she goes to lean on the desk, misses and brings three unfinished manuscripts crashing to floor with her. She scrambles to her feet. "Yeah, great to see you, you’re looking good. I mean you’re looking well. And healthy. Healthy good. That sort of good. Anyway, hi."

“Why, thank you, dear,” Alessiss waves her off with a gesture that makes her look like an actual grandmother rather than a scantily clad 18-year-old on a spring break. “You look well yourself, and by that I mean well” she stops abruptly and gives a coy smile. “Doing well for yourself.”

Sorrel grimaces. “Thank you, you helped sort my head out when we spoke and that made a big difference.” She takes a deep breath. “But there’s kind of a thing.”

She pulls off her undershirt and reveals a second brand - there are two complex patterns etched into her skin - the one Glint has seen and another one running down her spine. They are similar but subtly different. “I believe they include elements of infernal,” she says quietly. “Glint has identified this one,” she indicates her ribs, “as something to do with scrying. What do they say? What does this mean?” She pauses. “Feel free to touch them,” she gives a crooked grin.

Alessiss scrunches her pretty face as she unashamedly drags her long-nailed finger across the branded skin. “Honestly, looks like a bunch of fanatical babble to me. You know, our goddess this and that. Probably a spell of some sorts. Sorry, dear, this isn’t really my strong suite,” she says in a sorry-not-sorry tone. “But it does seem like someone has an eye on you…”

She pokes a circle on the tattoo. “Be careful, dear, our kind are jealous and possessive.” She drags her eyes away from Sorrel’s skin and peers into her eyes. Behind the illusory black of her retinas Hellfire starts dancing. “Never agree to anything unless you’re willing to stick to it through every layer of the Abyss.”

Fire envelops the black pupil momentarily and goes out in a blink. “On a more positive note, it does look bad, yes…” There doesn’t seem to be a continuation, until Glint pokes her ribs, slightly annoyed, and she chuckles. “Alright, alright! I’m only teasing, my dear!”

She leans in and Sorrel can feel hot breath on her face. “It looks bad, but we’re all about the show. Our kind rarely can do real damage without consent. We’re fiends, not dragons. So, the worst we save for those who are willing,” she gives Sorrel a mischievous wink, their eyelashes almost touching.

“Consent…” Sorrel lets the word fill the tiny space between them. “So, if I want to have anything to do with a fiend I just have to….” She looks deep into Alessiss eternal eyes. “Ask?”

“Smart girl!” The succubus says, booping Sorrel’s nose.

Glint clears his throat, hands folded across his chest. “Yeah, and then follow it up through all the layers of the Abyss, was it?”

“Depends on how serious a fiend is about you!” Alessiss shrugs playfully, still observing Sorrel with a curious eye.

“And depends on the fiend,” Sorrel shudders a little, shaking herself back into the room.

Alessiss nods slowly. “We are each a legion. Take time to know… in depth.”

“How can I find out?” Sorrel’s face is set hard now, the dancing spark replaced by stone. “They enter my dreams and mark my skin. I know their names and who they serve. How do I find out more before they kill me?”

"Well, one thing I can tell you is don't go after them on your own. They might think their interest is mutual, and you don't want to lead on a fiend," the succubus says with a languid stretch of her arms. "I'd ask around if I were you. Diviners, scholars," she nods back at Glint. "Rich people. And keep a low profile. I'm sure that's not too taxing for you."

If you lose, the devil gets your soul

Sorrel nods as she adds these points to the store in her memory palace. Unfortunately, this intense focus breaks her concentration on her fervent wish to believe the three of them are in Glint's large library and she almost falls out of the door before righting herself with as much grace as she can muster.

"Thank you," she bows as low as she can without sending more papers crashing to the floor. "I am in your debt again. Alessiss, I paid you back last time by following the mark you assigned me. She had a smile on her face the whole day. It was quite the revelation. Glint, do they charge rent on office space here? Because I would happily contribute to a slightly larger room if it helps. If I can be of help to either of you now or in the future, I am at your service and your family's. As per."

“Pleasure having business with you, Sorrel, dear,” Alessiss chuckles and waves at her from where she’s still lying across Glint’s desk. She then turns to her grandson to hold his face in her hands. The familial tenderness of the gesture is in such a sharp contrast to her seductive manner it almost feels like another illusion breaking. “You take care of your friends and of yourself, dear. Give my regards to Root,” she adds, poking at the hickey on his throat. In another blink, she disappears.

“Well, that was… less than informative,” Glint grumbles, straightening his shirt and raising the collar back up. He strolls over the table with an effortlessness of habit. “I’ll look into it for you, Sorrel, but I can’t promise much. Religion and science… have few overlaps. But I’ll do my best,” he nods and puts a hand on Sorrel’s shoulder. “Take care in the meantime, okay? I’m not a huge fan of the local temple of Selune and have very little faith in them, but if your group includes people like Velania I’m sure you’ll manage. Just… be careful scouting ahead, right?” He gives her shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

Sorrel bowed her head in thanks. " What perhaps you could help me with is hiding from these fiends. Is there any magic that can protect me from their scrying? Any simple enough for me to learn, I mean?"

Glint nods, takes a deep breath and dives into his office.

He spends no more than 10 minutes going through the shelf. In the end, he produces a book and a vial.

The vial glitters in the sun as Sorrel looks at it. Glint gives her a serious look and opens the book on what looks like a random page.

“So I don’t remember this thing by heart, but if you’d like to learn it…” he points at the glyphs and the pictures of hand gestures. “Just use this diamond dust, and you should go invisible for scryers for several hours.”

Sorrel can clearly see that Glint is nervous, even a bit desperate. He can’t stand in one place, as if looking for anything else he could do and finding nothing.

“Glint, thank you,” Sorrel says carefully. “We have fought side by side many times - although,” she smiles fondly. “I think you’ve persuaded me not to fight even more times and I thank you for that. Is there anything I need to know about this? I don’t mind risk if I know the odds. And I have trusted you with many things my friend. So I trust you now.”

He chuckles nervously. “Well, I can’t guarantee that it will work. I hope it will, but I can’t guarantee it. Scrying is a divination spell. The brand that you got,” he gestures towards her side and, struggling for words, makes a wide circle with his hand, “this can be anything, really. I’m sorry I can’t be more useful. But save for a magic aura, I don’t think there’s anything else that would even have a shot at working.”

“Then that is good enough for me.”

Glint gives her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “Good luck, Sorrel. And please come back alive, I am not getting in another argument with a Temple of Selune over healing and resurrections,” he chuckles softly as the crow feet form around his eyes that look a bit older than usual.