[Season 12] This is the Beginning

This was not about revenge. Though a great driving force for some of their associates, such motivations would not carry past its exaction. One did not survive this long if one did not have more brewing in the pot than simple retribution. There needed to be more.

Of course, all the best laid plans never survive contact with the enemy, as someone said once upon a time. Yet here they were, three for three, and the final preparations well underway.

It began with the proposal from a sly fiend who knew more than he should have. Resisting the urge to banish them on sight had not been easy. It had been many centuries since her dealings with the lower planes and, quite frankly, she was not eager to renew any kind of ties. Of course, now, all these moons later, it was a good thing she had listened.

Knowing where to look for the first and most crucial tool had been the first piece of a very delicate puzzle. It was no mere luck that drove the adventurers towards desperation for getting rid of the Gloom Queen’s mark — a mark only a fool would accept without knowing the consequences. But whether a fool or foolhardy it did not matter. Promises to remove the mark, all to better improve relations for a friend, plus the tantalising secrets of a long lost temple even she had not thought would resurface, were distraction enough. Reasons for the temple’s return can be found later.

Then came the long months of renewed searching. Familiarising herself with the Courts, their inner workings, running distractions, was a full time job. When the others heard the call, those few (barely a handful, really), who had survived these long years in hiding and living on the fringes, came back. More hands meant more information and before long, the prison where Oriniax had been kept was found. You can always count on adventurers wanting to help a damsel in distress. The desire to be ‘the hero’ is strong in all of them, though some may never admit it.

The final piece of the puzzle was the trickiest of all. Such a little thing, barely known let alone remembered. Who knows how long it had been in the vault, or if She even knew it was there. The protections were crude, but effective. They had to be careful not to be caught or detected. When the two found the meddlesome tod and his posse of Dawnlanders already there it gave them pause. As it transpired, the safeguards were distracting enough that even his cries of, “We have it, let’s leave!” fell on deaf or dying ears.

A series of fortunate events, one might say.

But would they be so fortunate in the coming days? Will the stars align so they could do what they wanted, what they must, without any trouble or resistance? There was no way to tell, but only a fool would rely on luck. The adventurers who had helped them — from the first to the most recent, inadvertently or purposefully — had wizened up to what they had done, who it was they had helped. Their mistrust would be dangerous.

If only they knew what was coming.

Some might. One had nearly Seen it all. But the Spirit Roads are not just the providence of the sprites who live in the tear. Word would spread quickly and there would be more than one ear attuned to the meaning of the message.

Just a few more days. The path will be opened and the hunt can finally begin in earnest.

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