Ex Astris – The East Wall – Velania – 28/06/2022

Continues after Silent Hill

Part of the Season 10 finale 

With thanks to the amazing DMing of Riah and the rest of Team Finale

[Content Note: trauma, death, grief, mourning]



Watch over us, O She Who Guides …

Fort Ettin, East Wall. We stared out into the darkness. I stood behind a row of trenches, hands twitching nervously. Waiting, waiting.

Across the whole night sky, Veridian’s storm erupted. It shattered the restless tension. It made my heartbeat skitter. The wind howled, buffeting my face, whipping my hair. I tasted electricity in the air. Rain spattered, soon becoming heavier.

Midnight was upon us.

Amble the gnome, spellbook at the ready, a protective dome conjured for us to use as refuge.

Beets the fairy, flying above the Fort wall, clenching her knuckles and gearing herself up for violence.

Dwirhian the elf, ready with water magic, ever swift and graceful on her boots of ice.

Florian the druid, wise beyond his years, gazing skyward and readying his connection to the tempest above.

Gerhard the archer, calm and alert, making a final inspection of his ornate silver bow.

I brimmed with fierce joy to see, alongside us, the moonstone dragon Qirliria the Bright, the wonder of the Fey Court of Harmony, lover of poetry and storytelling. She had brought me kindness and comfort on Evenbloom Hill, after Coll fell from the sky. Again she was visiting our plane – I looked forward so much to returning the favour. After this was over, I promised myself I would do so.

Her mother Zanathir had come too – stronger, mightier, and even more majestic. Ready to protect her daughter and we who stood with her. I gritted my teeth, reassured we had dragons on our side.

I stood with my friends, invoking the grace of Selûne. That she might watch over us on this dark night. We needed courage. We needed strength. Where they might come from – I did not know.

I gazed up at the sky. Cold rain lashed my face. Out there somewhere, Gadenthor approached. Coll was aboard. My chest ached with longing to see him. Even to see Xeron again – even just for that cold, artificial sense of him.

I did not know which team had been chosen to breach the city with Xeron to find Interrogation Room One, but if they did, and if they could reunite Coll’s body and mind…

My heart pounded with nervous energy. I prayed for their swift and silent passage, and that we on the ground could buy them enough time. Something in my heart told me: they will find him. But I dared not admit it to myself.

I longed to be up there, but they had to be fast and deadly. I could be put to better use down here.

Our orders were simple. And chilling. Hold for as long as you can.


… for your guidance I entreat, that we may prevail …

A burst of lightning shot across the sky above us, and thunder shook the ground. It shook my body. My teeth rattled. In the flash of light, a thousand shapes were illuminated in the sky.

Wave upon wave of dragons. Wyverns. Githyanki warriors. Battlemages.

They were here.

Diving at us in attack formation.

And so they came. They fell upon us like the rain did. And their assault was relentless.

Gerhard fired arrow upon arrow, Amble his crossbow. Beets pummelled and gored and bit, Dwirhian cast magic, whirled in a flurry of movement, and shouted to raise our spirits. Florian pulled lightning from the storm clouds and smote dragon upon dragon. I fired divine energy at the foe and strove to keep my friends on their feet.

We repelled the assault. We held our line… for now.

An immense gout of flame split the sky. A terrifyingly huge red dragon roared, and it thundered down upon the north wall. I shuddered, feeling the impact through the air. Maiden help them, I whispered.

Fire hit us, blades struck us. Qirliria and Zanathir whirled with deadly fury, blasting opponents with breath, fang and claw.

The enemy fell before us. Carcass upon carcass was scattered across the field. Muddy and blood-spattered, we all suffered burns and cuts. We rallied together for healing in every spare moment. The shrieks and cries of battle resounded from the other walls of the fort, and fiendish roaring from within.

The rain persisted. The ground was churned into a morass of blood and ichor. The air stank of death.

A new platoon of invaders surged towards us.

My arms were tired.

The enemy were not.

Above us, the observatory shattered and glass cascaded over us. Whatever it was, a powerful presence thundered into the dark sky above us, heavy wings beating. Distracted, I missed a Gith mage descending upon me, but Qirlira landed between us and crushed them with her tail. Gerhard finished the mage off with a deadly shot. I glanced at him and we shared a defiant nod.

The large presence took off, with immense wing beats propelling it up and away from Fort Ettin. My heart leapt into my throat. The strike team – it had to be. They were on their way to Coll.

The rain was falling to hide my feelings. We had to keep the enemy busy. We had to survive.

The night ground by slowly. Dawn was still a long way off.

Fire. Ash. Terror. Agony. Metal clashing. Bodies falling.

I flew to heal Zanathir, as she was bearing the worst of the onslaught. In that moment, we realised the mechanical retorts of the ballistae on the south wall had ceased. We saw Gith shadows climbing the southern wall. The fort was gradually getting breached.

We were running out of time. We braced for yet another push.

An adult red dragon crashed upon Qirliria, its terrifying presence stunning most of us. It disregarded Dwirhian’s ice and Florian’s thunder, and dragged Qirliria into the sky. They whirled and slashed, biting and snarling.

From nowhere, Gerhard was hit by a massive blast of fire. He staggered, grievously injured. As I reached him to pull him back up, I felt the crushing grip of Gish magic yanking me from the sky and pinning me to the ground. A Gith warrior launched at me and slashed hard. The blade struck deep. I reeled in shock, almost unconscious from the pain. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth.

I was helpless. Alone on this part of the battlefield, and staring death in the face as I held the warrior back, barely keeping my shield aloft.

A terrible scream of agony rent the night sky. I glanced up to see Qirliria’s lifeless body plummeting to the ground. The earth trembled where she fell.

My stomach knotted in horror.

Zanathir roared in anguish. The air shook with her grief. Recklessly, she barrelled through the enemy to her daughter’s side, and shredded the adult red dragon, before ending it with a ferocious beam of radiance. The enemy were shaken by her implacable rage. Bloodied and on the verge of collapse, we rallied and made a last-ditch attempt to repel them… or die trying.

And then the ground vibrated with a rolling thunder. It grew louder.

Facing east, we saw two things at once. The first was a tidal wave of shapes emerging from the darkness beyond the battlefield.

The second was the first light of dawn, as the sun breached the horizon.

The centaurs of Arva had arrived. I shoved the distracted Gith back a step and my breath quickened.

The sight of a centaur charge is powerful. Deadly. It was as terrifying a sight as it was reassuring.

A wall of hooves and steel smashed into the enemy from behind. Gith and wyrm fell to their onslaught, and we rallied to press our last assault home.

The tide had turned. We pushed forward with desperate shouts for courage.

The remaining enemy fled or fell. The centaurs pursued them across the hills. We had no energy to follow them. We limped back across the muddy fields and the trenches to Amble’s dome to patch ourselves up. Everyone was filthy, pale-faced and beaten-up.

Beets and Zanathir stayed in grief beside Qirliria’s body.

An adult dragon’s grief is tremendous. Her anguished cries made me tremble with sadness. In the maelstrom of battle, I had not been able to reach Qirliria in time to help her. I had failed her.

At last, we had prevailed.

But at what cost?


… name me among your champions, and I shall not fall …

The early light of dawn kissed the hillside, and swept across the damaged walls of Fort Ettin. The pink-stoned building was a mess. It bore the scars of fresh battle. It was in need of repair. But it stood firm.

Weary, sombre, I trudged with my friends to the courtyard. The survivors were gathering around Aurelia to hear the names of the fallen. She looked exhausted and stricken with grief.

It tasted like an empty victory.

All around, I saw the walking wounded, people shattered by battle and sorrow. Some wept and embraced with relief upon seeing loved ones who had made it. But the crowd was muted. I recognised most of the people there, but saw Glint, Kavel and Sparks-in-Shade, all standing close to each other, staring darkly at the ground. A shadow passed over my soul.

Aurelia began the list.

Each name was a blow – until I heard Silvia’s name and glanced at Glint, Kavel, and Sparks with dread. I saw their empty expressions. Then, my knees buckled. My eyes filled with hot tears. Not Silvia. I scanned the crowd for Sorrel. I could not see my sister. Was she among the fallen too?

Faces became a haze. This was too much. My throat felt tight. I couldn’t breathe.

Aurelia’s voice cracked as she reached the end of the long, long list of the dead.

And then, Coll appeared.

An illusion of him. Fifteen feet tall.

My heart pounded painfully; the words were a blur.

I heard what I heard.

I had seen him seized by Gith. I had seen him die. Sitting by his bedside brought me a new death every day. Again, that coldness was stabbing through my chest.

Why? My brain screamed at me. Why? Why? Why is he leaving? Does he have to? Or has he chosen to?

I dug my fingernails into my palms, trembling violently. Is it something you’ve done wrong? Have you let him down so badly…? Why must he leave? WHY MUST HE LEAVE?

I felt sick. Hollow. Bent double. Gasping for air.

I staggered away from the crowd.


… make of me your vessel, that I reflect your grace on this day …

The night had been relentless, the morning had staggered me, but my head was spinning so furiously, I could not sleep. Breathing shallow and fast, I flung myself into a morning shift and the day bore down on me.

All around me, the cries of the grief-stricken, the restless and wounded, those suffering from pain and loss rang in my ears. I returned to Fort Ettin’s impromptu field hospital where so many people needed help. Injuries, healing, aid for the sick and bereaved –always more people pleading for help. And more, and more.

And more.

I worked all morning, I worked all afternoon, my torn robes stained with mud and viscera and my own dried blood.

Eventually, I must have run out of steam. I was standing still in a corridor. I blinked and realised someone in charge was shouting at me. It took a moment to register: they were yelling at me to get the hell out of the way and go and get some rest.

I wanted to resist, but my brain no longer obeyed me. My face was numb with tiredness.

I surrendered mutely and left the area. I trudged upstairs into the fort, passing wounded warriors and grim-faced survivors. In a daze, I searched for a quiet space.

Miraculously, I chanced upon an unoccupied chamber. I don’t know whose it was, but I took it and slumped to the floor in the corner.

I had no strength left in my body. My head tilted into the wall next to me. I was exhausted to the point of nausea. But my brain would not switch off. Sleep would not come.

Through the long night and the endless day, I had spent almost all my mental reserves. I had little left, but steeled myself to try one last thing: I had the power for a farewell message. Coll deserved at least something from me, wherever he was now.

I brought his face to my mind, and remembered the touch of his hand upon mine. I shivered.

I whispered the magic and reached out to him. I readied myself to send a message into his mind…

… a second passed…

… five seconds passed…

… ten seconds…

… twenty…

The words evaded me. I had no message to send. I blinked mutely.

I let the incantation dissolve, unused and wasted.

I felt my connection to Selûne fade. She had been there with me all night and all day. But now my magic was spent.

With a lump in my throat, I sat there in the corner a long while, curled into a ball on the hard floorboards. I listened to myself breathe. My eyes were raw and bloodshot – I must have been weeping at some point today. I could not remember.

I stared at the wall until the afternoon shadows drew deep and long. The room got darker as the sun dropped below the horizon. It grew cold but I barely noticed.

As twilight set in on the second day, I spoke one thing. The only phrase I had. But I had no power in my lungs, and my lips moved silently:

I love you, Coll.

I closed my eyes.

I exhaled.

At last, sleep came to me.


… we do this in honour of all who are to follow us, and all our days past.

(Epilogue)

They say that sorrow does not diminish over the years, but the vessel in which we keep it grows much larger. Whenever I cast my memory back to my younger self during those long, dark days, my heart floods with grief. Despite her loss, I know the woman it will make of her, the person she will become. The road ahead of her is a hard one, but she is resilient, she is brave, she is strong.

She does not see that now. But she will.

I wish for but one thing: that I might stretch my hand back into the past, through the years I have lived, and reach her just once. I wish I could bear her away from this moment. I would sweep her up into my arms. I would cradle her tight. I would never let her go.

She deserves love; she deserves all the love the world can give her.

It will get better, child.

I promise, it will get better.





Lyrics from “Shattered & Hollow” (First Aid Kit).

Continues in And then there were Xeron