#Egrim Shiverstaff

[aquadestinyswriting]

A Stand on Holy Ground- Part One

Summary: Selene is making her way down to the Church of Galana to speak to Abouna Shiverstaff about the problems the dwarves of Toreguarde are currently facing. She ends up finding more than she bargained for when she gets there

Words: 2,021

Warnings: fantasy violence, implied fantasy racism/xenophobia, blood mention

tags: @druidx, @sparrow-orion-writes ,@warriorbookworm, @mariahwritesstuff, @ashirisu, @philosophika, @the-down-upside-finch, @lexiklecksi

The autumn air was crisp as the Grand Magus walked down the city streets towards the Garden of Galana. She pulled the plain grey cloak she was wearing a little tighter as the wind bit through her robes and chilled her bones. 

~You’d save yourself the bother of getting cold if you’d just teleported out, you know.~ Chrackle’s voice noted inside the wizard’s head. 

~And give Schreiber the satisfaction of knowing how badly he got to me? No thank you.~

~I think he knows how badly he got to you already. You’re not exactly the most subtle person in the world.~

Selene grit her teeth. Damn it all! Why did the godsdamned bird have to be right? She ignored the smugness radiating from her familiar and focused on turning down the street that would lead her to the Garden.

~Alright, fine. No need to rub it in, Chrackle.~ she told him, ~The only reason I didn’t teleport directly into the church is because I know how much Egrim hates it when I do it, and the walk is helping me calm down enough that I’m not going to explode his office out of sheer frustration.~

~You calmed down enough that you won’t explode in the middle of the Garden instead?~

Selene slowed to a stop as she looked up at the sky and around at the trees and buildings surrounding her. Not seeing her familiar within eyesight, she frowned and started walking again, her steps more measured upon feeling the anger underlying the magpie’s words.

~Chrackle? Where are you?~ Dread descended upon Selene, settling on her shoulders and seeping into her gut. There was no reply. Instead, Selene felt the tug of Chrackle pulling on their link to cast something. Ignoring the stares of the people around her, the Grand Magus broke into a dead sprint. Instinct shook awake old, half-remembered habits and routines as Selene unthinkingly cast Mage Armour on herself and immediately ran through the spells she’d prepared for that day, trying to work out which one Chrackle might have used and for what reason.

Chrackle’s anger only intensified as she ran through the northern gates of the Garden and pounded along the trail through the trees and down the trail that led to the church. Selene felt her heart pound harder with every step. Especially as she began to hear her magpie’s furious cackling. It wasn’t like Chrackle to get this upset for no reason. What was –

Battle instinct alone was the only reason Selene avoided getting clocked in the temple by the rock thrown in her direction. The stone bounced off the Shield spell she’d thrown up and clattered to the ground. Selene stared dumbly at it,

~On your left!~ Chrackle’s voice echoed, an accompanying vocal squawk alerting her to the individual that was now targeting the human woman that had happened upon their fun. Selene immediately whirled, already muttering an incantation and let her spell fly in the face of the human man that was readying to tackle her. He fell back, swearing up a storm, his hands covering his eyes as Selene let loose with a Colour Spray. Selene didn’t have time to dwell on him, as she caught sight of a rather larger group of people than she was expecting, attempting to surround her out of the corner of her eye. None of them were wearing any sort of robes or uniform, nor were any of them wearing anything that Selene would begin to consider ‘adventuring gear’. So civilians then. Selene looked beyond them to the wisteria building she’d been running towards and fumed.

Thorns erupted from every conceivable surface of the facade. Thick, ropy vines completely barred the main entrance and all the windows, deep gouges marred at least a few on the door, and some of the vines covering the ground floor windows had scorch marks. She glanced briefly up to the tree branch Chrackle was now perching on,

~I hope you didn’t try casting Fireball at these louts.~ she commented smoothly. Chrackle clacked his beak,

~Might not worship Her directly, but I know better than to piss off Galana! Unlike these idiots.~  the magpie retorted huffily. 

~Just checking.~ Was all Selene said. She returned her attention to the mob that now surrounded her. She set her shoulders and tossed her hair back from her face,

“Right, then. I’m going to give you lot 2 minutes to skedaddle before I start getting properly upset with you.”

“Oh no, what’re you gonna do, lovie? Throw some more pretty lights in our faces?” One of the men scoffed. All of them were human, barring two that were clearly half elves. None of them appeared to be followers of the Lady of the Garden, and if the state of the rose bushes was any indication, they weren’t landscapers either. Selene gestured to the gentleman that was wandering around in a daze behind her, who had just bumped into the tree Chrackle was perched on,

“I mean, if you all want to be blinded and dazed for a few hours, I can certainly arrange that.” She replied, “However, trying to explain to the local Watch why there are suddenly thirteen people who have all gone blind and are babbling incoherently on top of that is too much effort for me to expend right now, so I suggest you take my earlier advice and leave.” 

~Not the brightest bunch are they? Do they even know who you are?~ Chrackle asked conversationally. Selene mentally rolled her eyes,

~I doubt it, and I’d like to keep it that way if you please. I’m here on my time off, I don’t want to have to explain anything to Schreiber right now.~

Two of the men looked over to their mate, who simply felt his way down to the ground and groaned, then looked to the human who had scoffed at Selene earlier,

“Henry, maybe we should take her up on that?” one of them suggested, “I mean, she’s clearly a finger wiggler of some sort, and I don’t think –”

Henry rolled his eyes and gestured at the rest of the group,

“What, you think a skinny little bitch like her can take us all on at once?” he growled, “Finger wiggler or not, she can’t cast fast enough.” he added, pulling out a knife and levelling it at Selene. He smiled at her lazily, “Now then, I think we all know who should be leaving now, don’t we?”

Selene felt Chrackle tense, ready to swoop the guy,

~Hang on, Chrackle, no need. I can still deal with this just fine.~ she told the anxious magpie. Chrackle growled in her head,

~Oh come on, the guy is begging for at least one of his eyes to get pecked out! Please?~

Selene ignored Chrackle’s begging and returned her full attention to Henry. She clucked her tongue in disappointment,

“Oh yes, I certainly do, but I’m not going to thank you for the paperwork you’re going to cause me.” she sighed. The Grand Magus immediately began mentally running through her spell list again, trying to find something non-fatal she could use to subdue the entire group at once. Henry snorted, gestured to the rest of the mob, and lunged at Selene. The rest, emboldened by his action, surged forward, pulling out their own weapons.

Chrackle immediately leapt into action, swooping down and clawing at three of the men, angling back up into the air before they could even hope to swat at him. Selene managed to dodge out of the way of most of the strikes, but three still managed to land. She hissed at the sting of blades cutting into her arms before muttering an incantation and teleporting out of the middle of the mob and reappearing only ten feet away to one side of them. The mob stared in angry confusion before realising what had happened and turning around. Selene waved at them with a sarcastic smile before moving her hands and muttering again. Henry bellowed and tried to rush the wizard once more. In a single second, the world had turned to pitch black and he slammed into a stone wall, breaking his nose. All he could hear was the confused and terrified yells of the rest of his friends as they struggled to comprehend what had just happened, banging their fists uselessly against solid walls that none of them could see.

Outside the 20 foot square Windowless Cell that had suddenly sprung up in the middle of the Garden, Selene dusted her robes down as Chrackle landed on her shoulder.

~You couldn’t have made it just a weeny bit smaller?~ the magpie asked, sounding almost disappointed. Selene shook her head,

“The smaller one wouldn’t fit them all. Be a dear and summon some Watch officers here, will you? The cell’s small enough that I’m concerned about how much air they’ve got in there.”

Chrackle croaked,

~We could just leave them in there until they’re unconscious.~ he suggested, ~They did try to at least seriously injure you, if not try to kill you.~ 

Selene tapped the magpie firmly on his beak,

“No, we won’t be doing that, Chrackle! This isn’t Old Toreguarde, and nor are we out on the road where such things might be smidge more acceptable.” she chided, “Now please go and summon some Watch officers while I try to convince Egrim that the threat to his church has been dealt with.” 

Chrackle gave her a grumbling chuckle,

~Alright, fine! But I want something shiny for the new nest in exchange for this!~ he exclaimed, before taking off and flying in the vague direction of the nearest Watchhouse. 

Selene ignored Chrackle’s comment and walked up to the barred door of the church. Three broken and spent torches littered the ground in front of the vines, which creaked ominously as the Grand Magus stepped just a little too close. She backed up a step and huffed out a weary sigh,

“You’ll be glad to hear that the louts who were trying to burn you out of your church have been dealt with.” she called into the small piece of copper she’d pulled out of one of her pockets. Selene waited patiently as the vines retracted back into the earth and the wood of the building. Eventually there was the sound of at least a dozen locks being undone and the door creaked open just a crack. A dark, small and wary face peeked out of the opening, which quickly brightened into a large smile,

“Selene, it’s so wonderful to see you! I do hope those layabouts didn’t cause you too much trouble?” Oakrose greeted, opening the door properly so Selene could step into the main vestibule of the church. Selene shook her head,

“I gained a couple of scratches, but nothing to be concerned about.” she replied, “They didn’t manage to hurt any of you did they?” she asked. Oakrose peered at Selene, tutted, then peered first at the young man sitting underneath the nearby birch tree before sliding her bemused gaze over to the large, stone box that had suddenly appeared not ten feet from the front door. She shook her head,

“No, Father Shiverstaff heard them coming and rounded everyone up right quick.” the much shorter and older woman replied, “And you and I have very different ideas of what constitutes a scratch, young lady!” she chided, gesturing at Selene’s arm. Selene blinked and looked at her arm. A small rivulet of crimson was clearly visible on the back of her hand and dripping onto the floor.

“Oh.”

Oakrose heaved a motherly sigh as she chivvied the much taller woman into an office and made her sit down,

“I’ll go grab the Abouna so he can patch that up for you. What happened to the lad outside anyway?”

Selene shrugged,

“He got a bit blinded and dazed because he snuck up on me with a knife.” she replied, “Don’t worry, it’s not permanent, it should wear off by tomorrow.” Oakrose simply shook her head, grumbled and left the room, shouting for Berkin to get some damned rope.

[druidx]

As per your recent post, here is a character and three words as requested:

Alexis: hand, cottage, incident

<3

Hmmmm. It's, uh. A bit longer than a drabble... (Also I wrote it off the cuff with no references so apologies for any errors)

CW: Fantasy religion Setting: Vanilla Fighting Fantasy Tagging: @hannah-heartstrings @jacqueswriteblrlibrary

That Bird is Trouble

"Egrim, oh most devotional servant of the Green?" A dark-haired dwarf looked up from the ledger on his desk, peering over a pair of spectacles at the shadow hovering in his partly open doorway. "Hmm?" "Might I trouble you, oh devout one?" "Ye already used that one. Yer gettin' sloppy, hen." The shadow cleared its throat. "Gracious Abouna, whose perception is second only to my own, might I trouble you for a liddle iddy biddy pinch of healing?" Abouna Shiverstaff huffed out a long-suffering sigh. As if taking this as a positive sign, the shadow drifted a little closer. "What did you do?" he asked, rolling up the green sleeves of his vestments. "I, ah, burnt my hand." "Well, come on then. 'Tis called 'lay on hands' for a reason."

The shadow changed from a shadow to a short, middle-aged woman with russet skin and dressed in black leather armour. A hand is produced, the flesh bubbled and raw. "Alexis," Egrim said, after staring at the grotesque appendage, "what in the Pit did you do now?" "It's Chrackle's fault. He bet me I couldn't get this one shiny." "Ye made a bet with the bird?" "Well, look, see. If he'da gone after it, like he wanted, Sel would be scraping roast magpie off the street. So, in a way, isn't it better that I made a bet with the bird?" In response, Egrim let out another long-suffering sigh and began to chant under his breath. Curlicues of green light reached out, caressing the wounded hand. Alexis kept quiet as he worked, not wanting to ruin his concentration. He finished, and she flexed the new-formed skin like one might work in a glove.

"Thank you, o magnanimous one. I'll leave my donation with the delightful gentleman on the door." "Ah, ah. Not so fast there, jargh. Just what was this shiny t'was so precious and how does it relate to your burned hand?" "Oh well, the last part's easy. There was a trap." Egrim looked at her sharply. "There was a trap, and you missed it?" "Oh, no. I didn't miss it. I can tell you exactly what power of combustion spell it used, and the expertise required to make it, and how I would replicate it myself. Given a little more time I could probably have told you who made it and where to find them. "But, uh. I didn't exactly go out this morning thinking I would need to disarm a trap and thus I didn't have the particular tools one might need for a trap of that calibre so I. Hmm. I tripped it." Alexis sniffs and twitches her nose, eyes darting away. Egrim pursed his lips, unimpressed gaze lingering long enough to make the woman squirm. "And the shiny?" Egrim asks, in a fatalistic tone. "A broach, made out of a silver metal and mother of pearl. Given the power of the trap, probably mythril. An elven design, I think. Very expensive but maybe not unique – I'm sure I've seen the design before." "And of course," Egrim says in an even tone, "once you'd done your appraisal and gawked over it for a bit, you'd have put it straight back?" Alexis says loftily, "Yes, of course. And quite frankly I am offended by you insinuating otherwise." Egrim snorts. "So where did you find the shiny then?" "A little cottage in Crystalwick. I'd just been to see Sel, and Chrackle was being a nuisance as I left, so I followed him." "Makes sense ye've got most in common with the magpie…" "I heard that. Anyway, it's a pretty little place, covered in a climber of white flowers. Single story, loosely latched shutters, in a display case next to a desk, which is probably how the nosey bird found it." Egrim is frowning. "Was there lots of moon-related iconography around the place?" "Yes, now you mention it." Egrim huffed out a despairing chuckle as he stood to select a book. He flicked to a page and twisted the book around. "Was this the design, by chance?" "Yes. How did you–?" Egrim burst out laughing. "Oh! Oh, Logaan got his hooks into Chrackle today, eh?" "Abouna Shiverstaff!" "Ye tried to burglarise the high priestess of Lunara!" Egrim cackled, hysteric. Alexis' face filled with dawning horror. "I didn't." "You surely did." "I'm gonna kill that bird!" Egrim hauled in lungfuls of air, waving a hand. "Nay, stay yer hand. Yeth Imryll's a patient lass. Just go offer to reset the trap, and all will be forgiven." Her eyes still flashing with anger, Alexis gave Egrim a courtly bow. "Thank you for your advice, Abouna. Blessed be." "Blessed be," Egrim said breathlessly, making an attempt at Galana's symbol. With that, Alexis stalked out, muttering threats to turn Chrackle into a pie.

[aquadestinyswriting]

A Stand on Holy Ground

Genre - High Fantasy, drama

Themes: friendship, fantasy politics, fantasy racism/xenophobia/bigotry

Warnings: fantasy racism/xenophobia/bigotry, likely a bunch of swearing, fantasy violence, blood mentions

Stage - In Progress

Pov - Third Person

Synopsis

Selene has been watching the rising tide of violence against the dwarven community within Toreguarde from her tower, and is not best pleased about it. When it becomes clear that the gang responsible for most of this violence, the notorious Brotherhood of Cleaving, is being bankrolled by someone on the Council, she tries to step in to help as many people as she can; starting with her close friend and ex-adventuring partner, Egrim Shiverstaff.

Author's Note

Please note that this whole WIP is based on events that took place in a Dungeons and Dragons 3rd edition campaign, Destiny's New Servants, which was played between 2015 and 2018. That is all.

Chapters

Chapter 1

[aquadestinyswriting]

Ooooh, just had a thought. While the party were off finding the Hall of Heroes to go find the sword Ghulkari and Starhammer wanted Elowyn to have (that she neither wanted nor needed, but the others convinced her to at least go check it out), the Brotherhood were free to wreak a bit of havoc on the dwarves back in Toreguarde. Egrim was still the Abouna at that time, and he's a dwarf, and that was probably pretty common knowledge too. What's the betting that the Church of Galana and its gardens were a bit of a target for a spot of vandalism?

Given that this whole debacle is probably what started to accelerate Selene's slow descent into breakdown territory (and the fact that Schreiber likely was all for getting rid of the dwarves if it would help his mates out), I'm not sure how much time the Grand Magus would have to spare for her old friend and his plight, nor what she could hope to do about it officially.

Time for another story for The Wizard's Tale methinks...

[aquadestinyswriting]

Writing Snippet: A 'What If?'

Alright, so I did a bit of "speculative" writing for the Destiny's New Servants campaign before I took over as GM, trying to figure out where the first GM was going with the story. I've lost most of that writing due to changing laptops and being careless with file transfers over the years (make sure you back up your work kids), but I found this one hidden in the depths of my external hard drive about a month ago.

I vividly recall writing the following piece over the course of about a week. I started the morning after the session where Starhammer died because I wanted to remember every detail of that session, then just... carried on with my ideas of what might happen next.

Now, I was also wondering how best to have Merri leave the picture once I took hold of the reins of the campaign at this point. I had an idea of what I had planned to happen back in Fangthane, but the fact was, the first DM was not going to go easy on us, and it was very likely at least one of the characters would die in the fight against Darkhide. We also knew that Darkhide wanted to rip open the portal to the Pit again, and we'd used up all the God Clay that was left on Titan; what the hell were we going to do if he succeeded? So I wrote something to cover that exact scenario. It all becomes a bit self-indulgent, but that's part of why I like it so much. I apologise in advance to anyone using screen readers, I couldn't think of a decent way to split up the different sections of the story. I'll change it once I come up with something that isn't so much of a pain in the backside for you.

This fairly long piece covers the aftermath of Starhammer's death then skips forward a bit, just as a heads up. The speculative stuff starts after Merri's conversation with Elowyn and Enezeage.

Tags: @druidx, @sparrow-orion-writes , @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @mariahwritesstuff, @writeblrsupport, @ashirisu, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds, @freedominique

Elowyn grumbled as Enezeage shimmied down the wall and back onto the street. She got down as the half-orc rolled his shoulders,

“Should we go in after them?” he asked, cracking his knuckles. Elowyn shook her head,

“No, first we need to find Meredith and find out if she wants to press charges.” She said firmly, “We can’t just go in and start arresting people.” Enezeage grumbled, but nodded and looked up the street, noticing that the Celestial Dog had paused in front of what seemed to be a grove of trees. He pointed to it,

“What’s that?” he asked. Elowyn wracked her brain for a moment,

“That’s the Grove of Obad-Hai.” She replied, cautiously running up to it and stopping as she saw a very pale and shaken looking Meredith come out of the trees, along with a man in dark brown clerical robes. The man bowed slightly to the Woodling and turned to Meredith,

“Remember what we said, Daughter of Moradin.” He said sternly, before melding with a nearby tree. Elowyn made a face as the Grove seemed to retract and create a firm barrier around the outside,

“I hate those trees.” She muttered, before turning her attention to Meredith. Upon seeing the look on the Dwarf’s face, she rushed up to her and wrapped her arms around her shoulders,

“Meredith, oh by all the Gods, what happened?” she asked as the other woman began to shake, quite violently, the Woodling noticed. Meredith’s breath hitched as she tried to speak but couldn’t seem to quite manage. Elowyn rubbed her shoulders, “Come on Merri, talk to us.” She said in as soothing as voice as she could manage, waving a hovering Enezeage back slightly. Meredith took a few shallow, shaky breaths and clutched the book she was carrying to her chest tightly,

“St–Starham–mer… he’s– he’s dead.” She finally managed to choke out, tears streaking down her face as the events of the whole evening finally hit her. Elowyn’s hands stopped abruptly, staring at the dwarf with wide-eyed shock,

“Wh–what happened?” she asked in a low voice. Meredith hugged herself tighter,

“The beer… the traitorous swine, he spiked the beer wi–wi’ ooze.” Elowyn’s heart dropped into her stomach,

“Oh no.” she moaned, bringing the traumatized dwarf into a tight hug, “Merri, I’m so, so sorry.” She said, tears stinging her own eyes. Enezeage grunted,

“What about those robed dudes?” he asked gruffly. Elowyn sighed and nodded, gently pushing the dwarf back so she could look at her again,

“I take it those guys showed up when you came outside?” she asked. Meredith nodded,

“Aye, they wanted tae know who I wis an– an’ whit I wis doiin’.” She replied, her voice raw, “I summoned the dug when they drew their swords an’ chased me doon the street.” She finally met Elowyn’s eyes, “They s–said they were bounty hunters.” Elowyn nodded,

“Right ok, Merri I have to ask you this because it’s important.” She said her tone turning a bit firmer, “Do you want to press charges against those guys?” she asked. Meredith fell silent for several long moments, chewing her bottom lip as she thought the question over. Finally, she slowly shook her head. Elowyn bit back a growl of frustration,

“Are you sure? We can get these guys arrested and taken off the streets.” She said. Meredith glanced down at the floor,

“I– It’s no’ worth it.” She said quietly, “D– dinna take this  the wrong way, but… I dinna trust that they won’t just get away’ with it.” Elowyn sighed and forced Meredith to look at her. When this was accomplished she pointed to her badge,

“You see this badge?” she said, “That means that I can go arrest those hooligans and get them locked up and make sure they never get out onto the streets again.” Meredith gave the Woodling a sullen glare,

“Then why don’t ye tell that to the officer who tried to kill me when they paid him off.” She retorted bitterly. Enezeage growled,

“Let’s just go take care of them, Elowyn. We know what they’re doing is wrong anyway.” Elowyn looked up at the Monk and shook her head as she came to the realisation that perhaps Meredith might be right,

“No, if Meredith doesn’t want to press charges, then we have no choice in the matter.” She told him firmly. She turned back to the Dwarf, who was still huddled into herself, “Are you sure you don’t want to press any charges?” she asked. Meredith nodded,

“Aye, it’s not as though anyone's gonna waste their time with the only dwarf left in the city anyway.” She muttered darkly. Elowyn sighed heavily,

“Alright.” She said, “Can you at least remember what this officer you ran into looked like?” Elowyn made up a mental image of the man as Meredith described him and nodded firmly. She recalled that he was likely one of the Road Wardens.

‘Right then, looks like I’ll need to go have a word with someone’s superior officer.’ She thought to herself, gently looping her arm around Meredith and guiding the poor woman away from the Grove,

“Come on then, let’s get you home.” She said gently, motioning with her head for Enezeage to take point. The Half-Orc grumbled, but did what he was silently told, tucking his arms into the sleeves of his own robe as the little group finally began to make their way back to Acacia Avenue.

~*~

Meredith rocked back on her heels with a sigh, she was devoted to Moradin, no question about that. However, even as she reached for His grace this morning, there was… nothing. The hollow feeling that was left behind after Starhammer’s death was hitting the young dwarf hard. Darkhide was still a massive threat that needed to be taken care of, but could she even be of any help to the others at this point? That she could not reach her God scared the cleric, although she knew it was unlikely that Moradin had forsaken her it was still disconcerting to receive no response to her daily prayers.

‘Not only that, but the High Priest and Archlector will have felt the shift by now as well.’ She thought to herself as she got up and made her way downstairs to the kitchen.

~*~

Orock had held a lovely service to Starhammer’s memory, Meredith thought, but that she could not hold a proper Dwarven ceremony upset her more than the knowledge that the older dwarf was gone. Elowyn, bless her, had tried to help but the Woodling just could not understand just how deeply Dwarves held their traditions. Unfortunately, even if there had been a body to bury, Moradin was not available to grant any Blessings and Meredith doubted that Throff would want to stick around either. Meredith was still nursing the first mug of ale she had been handed, unable to really bring herself to drink all that much, when a lanky human came rushing into the back room,

“Elowyn! We got a situation at the Garden of Galana!” Farren yelled as he dodged an irate Khord Inititate whose drink he had knocked over. The Woodling was on her feet instantly,

“What kind of situation?” she demanded, kicking Enezeage in the shin to wake him back up and rounding up the rest of her group. Farren grunted,

“Apparently, a bunch of men in black cloaks have a problem with the church’s High Priest and are trying to get into the Garden to ‘have a word’.” Elowyn frowned,

“But why would they…?” Elowyn muttered, trailing off as she realised what the problem was. She glanced over to Meredith, who had grabbed her mace and Book of Moradin and was looking over at the Paladin expectantly. Elowyn sighed and turned to Farren,

“Has the local Watch House responded yet?” she asked. Farren shook his head,

“The Captain in charge said something about it being an ‘ecumenical matter’.” He said, clearly not happy with that explanation. Elowyn frowned and turned to Meredith,

“You’re staying here.” She said simply, gesturing for the rest to follow her. She expected to hear an angry exclamation and to be asked why, so when it didn’t come, Elowyn looked back over her shoulder with a worried frown. Meredith had gone back to her seat, without comment and was back to staring into the mug of ale she had been nursing. Orock frowned as he looked between the dwarf and Woodling, and made his way to stand behind Meredith,

“I’ll keep an eye on her.” He rumbled, “You’d better get going.” He said, laying a large hand on the dwarf’s comparatively tiny shoulder. Elowyn nodded,

“Once we’ve sorted this whole thing out, I’ll get someone to come back and get her.” She said, running out of the Plot Hook and making her way, with the rest of her companions to the other side of the city.

~*~

Elowyn almost skidded to a stop as she finally made it to the Garden of Galana. She had expected that the Abouna would use some clerical magic to keep the area safe. What she hadn’t expected was the sight of a tall human Wizard with auburn hair and spectacles, standing in front of the entrance to the Garden, holding back a very irate group of humans in black cloaks.

“Step aside!” the leader of the people in black cloaks hissed, “There’s a stunty in there that has a very good price on his head.” The Wizard snorted,

“I’m giving you gentleman one last chance to leave before I get upset.” She replied evenly, gripping the Yew staff in her hand a little tighter. Elowyn smiled a little,

“Hey Derren, what do you say we let these fine men know who they’re back-chatting?” she asked, looking up at her partner. Farren, catching the look in the Woodling’s face, grinned,

“Yeah, why not?” he asked, grabbing his cosh. Elowyn looked back at Felix and Enezeage,

“You guys stay back here with Aurri and grab the ones that decide to scarper.” She said, “I think Abouna Shiverstaff and Grand Wizard Frigidwake are a bit more likely to try pressing charges so we can nick this sorry lot.” Enezeage grinned around his tusks and nodded,

“Finally.” He growled. Felix brought his hands into a casting position and nodded. Elowyn looked up to Farren again and nodded, casually walking around the group of men until she came around to the front.

“Is there a problem, Grand Magus?” Elowyn asked, using her best ‘on the beat copper’ voice. The leader whirled around, a little panicked as he suddenly seemed to realise just who it was he was up against. Selene smirked a little and looked over to Elowyn,

“Good afternoon, Officer O’Toreguard, Officer Breakwood.” She greeted happily, “I was just asking these fine gentlemen to leave the area.” She explained, “They seem to have this ridiculous notion that they can collect a bounty on the good Abouna’s head, despite Toreguard Law clearly stating that all religious figures are under the full protection of the Drakemarie Empire.” She added. Elowyn tapped her chin thoughtfully,

“Really now?” she asked, turning to the group of humans, “What do you lot have to say about these accusations then?” she asked politely. The leader, who had backed off, glowered at the Woodling,

“Seems like there was a bit of a misunderstanding.” He said in a low voice, “We weren’t aware that the… dwarf that was in the area was the High Priest of the church.” He said. Elowyn looked at her fingernails and tutted,

“Well you see, that’s a bit of a problem. I was under the impression that the few Dwarves still in the city were still protected from murder and abuse under general Toreguard Law, not just the religious figures.” She said, glancing up to her partner, “Officer Breakwood, what do you think?” she asked. Farren tapped his cosh against his boot,

“I think you’re right, O'Toreguard.” He said, “I don’t recall any news about changes to the law, I think I’d remember if someone said something about Dwarves being fair game.” The leader of the other group backed up some more,

“Well, we’ll just be on our way then.” He said, turning around in an attempt to get away, only to find that the people at the back had already been either knocked out or frozen in place as they tried to flee. Enezeage cracked his knuckles,

“Hullo there sunshine.” He growled, grinning somewhat menacingly. The human grunted as Farren grabbed his wrists and cuffed him. Elowyn turned to Selene,

“Well at least now we can get this lot booked once we get them to the nearest station.” She said. The Wizard nodded,

“I believe I can help with that.” She smiled. She looked up to a nearby rooftop and whistled. Almost immediately a large magpie flew down and fluttered onto her shoulder. Selene tickled the bird under his beak, “Chrackle, take this down to the nearest Watch House, we need a couple of wagons to take these fine gentlemen there.” She said, quickly taking out a slip of parchment and quill and making a note. The magpie chuckled as she tied the note to its leg. Selene rolled her eyes,

“After you get back. Stop being greedy.” She chastised. The magpie chuckled again as it flew off. Selene looked at the group of men, who were being rounded up by Farren and Enezeage, then turned to Elowyn,

“Thank you for the help Elowyn.” She sighed, pushing her glasses up her nose, “I didn’t want to have to resort to casting anything to scare them off.” Elowyn nodded as she leaned against the outer wall around the Garden, watching as Farren read the whole group their rights

“I know, at least I’ve managed to get a hold of these guys now.” She sighed, shaking her head. Selene frowned down at the Woodling,

“What happened?” she asked in a low voice. Elowyn shook her head sadly,

“These guys don’t know it, but Enezeage and I know exactly what they’re about. Merri sent a Celestial Dog to find us because she was in trouble. She ran into these guys last night and they chased her all the way from the Dwarven District to the Grove of Obad-Hai.” Selene frowned,

“Why didn’t she stay in the temple?” she asked, “Between them she and Starhammer should have…” Elowyn was shaking her head again,

“Starhammer’s dead Selene.” The Woodling said, her voice tight. “By the time ‘Zeage and I got there, the temple didn’t look too good either.” Selene sighed heavily and pushed her glasses up her nose,

“Egrim’s not going to be pleased with the news.” She muttered, “Once word reaches Fangthane about that, every dwarf in the vicinity is going to get called back there and Father Shiverstaff only just got this place back up and running.” The two women watched as a paddy wagon rumbled up the street and the robed men were loaded onto. Chrackle landed on Selene’s shoulder with a satisfied croak. The Wizard fished out a regular gold coin from her purse and handed it to the bird, who chuckled happily. The captain of the nearby watchhouse approached and saluted Selene smartly,

“Do we know if the High Priest wishes to press charges?” he asked. Elowyn stepped forward,

“Elowyn O’Toreguard, watchhouse eight sir.” She greeted smartly with a salute of her own, “If you will allow the Grand Wizard and myself an hour or so to talk to the Abouna about the matter we can let you know as soon as we can.”  The Captain narrowed his eyes slightly, but nodded,

“Very well then. I will get these lads back to the watchhouse while we wait.” He said stiffly. Once he was gone, both Elowyn and Selene frowned in concern,

“ Do you think they might get away with it after all that?” Elowyn asked quietly. Selene sighed,

“Almost certainly.” She replied heavily, “But we can’t dwell on that right now. I think we’d better let Egrim know they’re gone.” The Wizard looked expectantly at her familiar, who croaked in acknowledgement and fluttered to a heavy vine. The bird cocked its head for a moment before tapping on the wood. After a moment the vines retracted and another Woodling popped her head out of the door to the church,

“Elowyn, Selene?!” she exclaimed, rushing out and pulling the Paladin into a hug, “Oh, I’m so glad you’re safe! I was so worried!” Selene smiled and nodded in greeting, while Elowyn hugged the other woman,

“I know mum. Look, can we come in and see the Abouna? It’s important.” Oakrose nodded,

“Of course dear, come on in, all of you. I’ll get the kettle on.” The whole group were ushered inside and told to wait in the refectory. Selene held up a hand before going inside. She quickly gestured and muttered a few words, a silver shimmer hanging in the air for a few moments before dissipating. The Wizard nodded, satisfied,

“That should keep out any further, unwanted guests.”  She said as Oakrose gave her a concerned look. The older Woodling shrugged and went back to work while Selene joined the others. After a few moments a dwarf with a wood-brown beard and blue(?) eyes bustled into the room. He seemed relieved to see who had shown up,

“Ta fer gettin’ rid of’ those idiots out there.” He said giving everyone a grateful smile, “ I wis off a mind tae ask the Council what the bloody hells they were playin’ at an’ getting’ help from the Druids.” Selene shook her head,

“You honestly didn’t think I would leave you to deal with those hooligans yourself, Egrim?” she asked. The dwarf waved his hand,

“Ach! I ken you would’t Sel, ye’re pretty much the only one on tha bloody thing that's no’ a backstabbing–” Elowyn held up her hand,

“Ok I think we get the idea Abouna.” She chuckled, “The ‘idiots’ as you call them, have all been arrested on various charges so they shouldn’t be bothering you again.” Egrim snorted derisively,

“Until they’re all released again in a week, tops.” He retorted. He shook his head upon seeing the expression on Elowyn’s face at his comment, “Dinna get me wrong, child, but I’m no’ blind nor deaf. Aside from myself, yon wee cleric friend an’ a handfull o’ Slayers, there’s no one else left this side o’ Fangthane.” He pointed out. Elowyn’s face fell,

“If I can get enough evidence…” She said desperately. The dwarf sighed heavily,

“Elowyn, lass, I ken ye’re tryin’ yer best, but ye’re only one of a very few that actually care about this.” He nodded to Farren, who was making up a fresh rollie. The human shrugged,

“Hate to break it to you kid, but ours is the only Watchhouse that was still going anywhere near the Dwarven district.” He lit the cigarette and took a drag, “I think the Council are pretty much just looking the other way until it all ‘blows over’, especially since we’ll be under siege by a massive horde of undead in about a day or so.” Egrim barked out a humourless laugh,

“’Blows over’ he says. Bah!” the dwarf went over to a nearby ale cask, drew himself a tankard, checked the contents and took a swig, “Given what happened last night, they’ll be lucky if they’re no’ fightin’ a fresh war immediately after this.” Elowyn’s eyes went wide and looked between the Abouna and Selene,

“But why would they do something like that?” she asked plaintively. Selene sighed heavily,

“Mostly because the whole city has likely been placed on the Fangthane Book of Grudges, Elowyn.” She explained, “From what Edwin told me the last time I contacted him, the Low King is under a lot of pressure from the displaced dwarves that are now living there to get some kind of retribution for the people that have lost their homes, livelihoods and even family members.” Elwoyn shook her head,

“But Starhammer wasn’t even killed by this Brotherhood of the Cleave. They were still outside and waiting when Merri came out of the temple.” She protested. That earned her a confused look from the Abouna, who paused while taking another swig of ale,

“Wait, what?” he asked, putting his tankard down, “So if those bastards weren’t responsible, who was?” Enezeage snorted,

“From what Meredith told us last night, it looks like it was that Grinbeard guy.”

“Grimebeard? Garl Grimebeard?” the dwarf asked, looking between the rest of Elowyn’s group. Elowyn nodded,

“Yeah, turns out he had forsaken Moradin and was poisoning people with Oozes disguised as beer. I thought we took care of him?” she asked looking over to Felix and Enezeage. Felix shook his head slowly,

“No, it was one of the other members of his family, remember?” he replied, “The others had long gone by the time we took care of the Clay Golem created out of that poor gnome and the Oozes in the cauldrons.” Both Elowyn and Egrim looked like they were going to be sick,

“We never got around to trying to find the rest of them.” Elowyn muttered, “I honestly thought it was Garl we took care of and the rest just scarpered.” She buried her head in her hands. Selene looked over to Egrim with worry,

“What’s the matter, Egrim?” she asked. The dwarf sat down heavily,

“I’ve been in contact with Fangthane a lot recently, fer obvious reasons. I wis wonderin’ aboot tha rumours goin’ about around some folk goin’ missing’ recently. I don’t think the activities of ol’ Grimebeard has been limited tae Toreguard.”

“You think he might be responsible for the disappearances?” Selene asked. The Abouna nodded,

“Ragnarsson mentioned somethin’ about finding some bad beer in the Cathedral’s cellar. I didn't think anything’ of it at first, even dwarven beer goes bad if it’s kept long enough, but…”

“They’re trying to get rid of every Moradin worshipper they can.” Selene muttered, “But why?” the wizard looked up at her old friend, “We need to get word to Fangthane about this, now.” She said firmly, “

“There might be a problem with that, lovies.” Oakrose said as she came into the refectory, handing Egrim a scroll. The Dwarf unrolled it and quickly read through it. He crumpled the parchment not long after,

“Bollocks tae that.” He swore, tossing the balled up parchment to the floor. Selene sighed,

“Let me guess, all communications out of the city have been forbidden, including all scrying and other magical means?” she asked lightly. Elowyn groaned as the dwarf nodded with a weary sigh,

“An’ afore ye ask, I rather think they’ll include familiars as magical objects.” Selene snorted,

“I’m well aware of that Egrim.” She snipped, “Luckily, if there’s one thing Alexis did manage to teach me in the time I travelled with her, it’s to never just rely on one or two methods of communication. That and to never kowtow to a giant red lizard who thinks he’s smarter than you.” She added. Elowyn frowned in confusion,

“What are you going to do?” she asked nervously. The Wizard honestly scared her sometimes. Selene sent the Woodling a reassuring smile,

“Just going to visit an old friend to ask for a bit of help.” She said, “But first, I think I’d better go and fetch your cleric. She’ll be safer here.”

~*~

Much, much later

Darkhide laughed maniacally even as the last of his life seeped from him,

“You’re too late.” he coughed wetly, spraying blood, “The portal is open, the way is clear. A– and you have no God Clay to– to save you.” He chuckled, his throat gargling. Elowyn dropped to her knees, despair written all over her features. Enezeage had bowed his head and placed his hands in his sleeves, while Felix cried out in anger and anguish. Quintin closed his eyes and prayed silently to Correlon Lorethion for a swift death. Meredith, however, struggled to her feet,

“No.” she growled, wincing from the beating Darkhide had given her earlier, “I am not admitting any sort of defeat to you.” She spat, glaring at the Necromancer. Darkhide grinned darkly,

“Do I need… to remind you girl? Moradin… is dead.” He said, now gasping for air. Meredith snorted, looking over at the giant rend in the earth in front of the group.

“I heard ye the first time, ye bag o’ wind.” She said flatly, “But ye never said anything’ about Throff.” She added, glancing back at the dying human. Darkhide frowned momentarily, then his eyes widened,

“No.” he croaked, his last breath finally leaving him as he attempted to reach out towards Meredith, who was staggering over to the portal’s edge. Elowyn jumped to her feet,

“Merri? What are you doing?” the Paladin yelped, racing up next to the dwarf. Meredith looked down at the chasm with a determined expression,

“Finishing’ this.” She replied. She looked up at Elowyn, “Take the others, and run.” She commanded, “If this doesn’t work, ye’ll need tae evacuate as many people as ye can from the Plains.” Elowyn frowned and shook her head quickly,

“But what about you?” she asked. Meredith sighed and glanced back at the chasm,

“That doesn’t matter.” She said quietly, she looked back up at the Woodling sharply, “Now get goin’!” she snapped, a ripple of power washing over Elowyn. The Paladin tried to resist, but found herself unable to. She glared back at the dwarf, even as her feet took her away, tears stinging in her eyes. Meredith watched her friends leave, guilt tearing at her heart,

“I’m sorry.” She muttered, “But this is my burden to bear.” The Inquisitor turned back to the portal, took a deep breath and knelt. She took a moment and then began to cast,

“Throff, gentle Mother of my people, know that I do not make this request of You lightly. I am fully aware of the cost involved and I will pay it.” She prayed, gathering up as much power as she could muster, “Please, grant me the strength to close this abomination, to heal this world that has been wounded so badly already.” She begged, tears stinging her eyes. After a moment, Meredith felt the earth beneath her ripple slightly. She smiled softly; there may not have been any spare God Clay left, but wasn’t Titan made of the stuff? The Dwarf closed her eyes tightly, pushing yet more power into the spell, feeling it drain her very soul as the earth finally began to move, closing the portal to the Abyss. Demons, who had been making their way up from the bottom of the Pit, screeched as slowly, their means of escape closed in around them. They pushed back and the spell wavered.

Meredith was almost completely tapped out, black spots obscured her vision as she felt the resistance,

“No,” she breathed, “I–I am not letting…” her breathing became shallower as she tried to push yet more power into the Shaping spell. It was then she felt a gentle brush on her shoulder. She blinked back the blackness creeping into her vision and looked in the direction the touch had come from. Stringwhiskers, limned in a golden light, twitched his nose at her,

“We know what you doing.” He squeaked, “We come to help.”

“You got this Merri, keep going.” Alphonse’s voice encouraged from somewhere behind her. Looking around at the faces of her deceased friends and travelling companions, Meredith nodded and glared at the portal, which was slowly pushing back open. Gathering up what little strength she had left, the dwarf pushed it all into the spell. The earth rumbled violently as the two opposing forces clashed, but finally, with a deafening ‘boom!’ the portal snapped shut. The hand of a Balor that had been unlucky enough to get in the way, wavered then disintegrated into dust on the wind as everything finally settled. A weak ray of sunlight lit up the ground where the portal had been and a bird flew over and perched on the out of place hammer that glinted as the clouds above Castle Dire finally broke.

When the Command spell finally wore off Elowyn and the others, they were most of the way along the road to Toreguard. Almost immediately, the Woodling spun around and began marching back up the road towards Castle Dire,

“When I get a hold of that girl, she is getting the earbashing of the century!” she snarled. Felix tugged on her arm nervously,

“What was Merri even doing?” he asked. Elowyn shook her head,

“The stupid woman’s probably trying to close the portal by herself.” She replied. Enezeage strode in front of the Woodling,

“Then maybe, it’s a good idea to do what we were told?” he suggested. Elowyn was about to give the Monk a scathing reply, when the earth under their feet rumbled. Felix squeaked and grabbed a hold of Quintin’s leg. The Elf staggered a little at the sudden gesture, but was quick to find his footing again. Enezeage grabbed a hold of Elowyn’s arm as the Paladin fell back with the sudden movement, a large, squat sea of calm amidst the chaos. Felix looked around in awe as the tremor ceased,

“Whoa, someone’s either being really stupid or really brave to try casting this big a spell.” He said, his eyes wide. Elowyn frowned and checked to see if there was anyone evil nearby that was attempting to cast something new. The only hint of red she found though, was a brilliant glow up where the portal had been opened.

“OK, ow. Remember that big ass portals to the Abyss don’t need to be checked for Evil.” She muttered as she blinked her vision back. Felix shook his head,

“It’s not an arcane spell.” He called as another, larger rumble shook the road beneath them. He waited until the new tremor had passed before continuing as he studied the lines of power only he could see, “I think… yeah, it’s Divine Magic. It’s all white and gold.” Elowyn paled and looked up towards Castle Dire,

“Merri, what are you playing at?” she whispered. Aurianna mewled from her perch on the Paladin’s shoulder,

“I think she’s trying to use a Shape spell to close the portal.” She said quietly. Elowyn frowned,

“How? There’s no God Clay left, right?” she asked, now beginning to panic. Enezeage hummed as he realised something,

“That’s true,” he rumbled, “but what did Titan make the world out of?” he asked. Elowyn’s eyes went wide as an even bigger tremor rumbled through the earth, causing everyone to lose their footing. Once it was over, a massive ‘Boom!’ rent the air then… the earth stilled. The group looked at one another questioningly as they got up. After no further tremors came along, Elowyn rushed up the road as fast as her legs could carry her, at least until Enezeage hoisted her onto his shoulder and ran the rest of the way for her.

Once they reached the top, the group looked around in shock. Darkhide’s body was still pretty much exactly where it had been left, as had the bodies of the other Cabal members and the undead. There was, however, no sign of the portal. Or of Meredith. Elowyn was let down as Enezeage looked around in confused awe,

“MERRI!” Elowyn called desperately. She ran around the grounds of Castle Dire, looking for any sign of her old friend, “MEREDITH!” She ran around the rest of the huge courtyard, “Meredith Gruksdottir, you get your ass over here right now!” There was no reply, aside from the croaking of the ravens that had come along to feast on the dead. Quintin quickly came around the corner,

“Elo, I think you need to come have a look at this.” He called. The elf looked confused and upset. Elowyn rushed over to him,

“What’s going on?” she asked. The Ranger held out an elaborate mace. It was made of the best Iron and etched all over with Dwarven Runes. Meredith’s warmace. Elowyn reached out to touch it, but quickly withdrew her hand,

“Where did you find this?” she asked sharply. Quintin turned around and nodded to the courtyard behind him,

“Next to the edge of where the portal should have been.” He replied heavily, “We’ve looked everywhere in the area. There’s no sign of her besides this.” Elowyn glared at the elf,

“There has to be!” she snapped, her voice tight with emotion as she ran over to where the portal had been less than an hour before. Quintin sighed and followed the Woodling at a more sedate pace, tickling a raven that had landed on his shoulder under its beak.

Elowyn reached the knoll where the portal had not long before torn a hole through reality to the Abyss and looked around desperately, tears streaming down her face. The rest of her party finally arrived in the area, looking as lost and confused as the Woodling felt. She looked at each other them, still hoping there was something, anything else. Slowly they shook their heads. Cragspine approached the Woodling, who was now hugging her knees into her chest and sobbing. He gently touched the Paladin’s hand,

“Meredith might not be here, but portal is gone.” He said in a low voice, “This place saturated with Divine Magic, she obviously successful.” He pointed out. Elowyn really didn’t take too much comfort in the little Kobold’s words. The Dwarf, despite some of her faults, had managed to more or less survive their entire journey and had been a welcome, steady presence when everything had, as they often said to one another, ‘turned to shit’.

“It’s not fair.” She sniffled, “Why did all the big stuff have to fall on just her?” Cragspine shook his head,

“The Gods are fickle.” He reminded her, “Come, we go tell big human peoples news.” He said gently, tugging on the sleeve of the Woodling’s overcoat. Elowyn lifted her head and slowly shook her head,

“You guys go on ahead, I need a minute.” Cragspine looked back at Enezeage with a questioning expression. The Half-Orc nodded and shooed everyone else back to the road to Toreguard. The Monk turned to Elowyn,

“Don’t be too long.” He rumbled. Elowyn nodded as he turned around and followed the others. When she was finally alone, Elowyn knelt on the grass and prayed,

“I hope you managed to find wherever it was you wanted to go.” She said, fresh tears making their way down her cheeks, “You really do have a bad habit of wanting to outdo yourself though, don’t you?” she laughed, “I will personally make sure that what you managed to accomplish today is properly recognised though. Maybe once word gets out about it, people back home will stop being such dicks to Dwarves again.” She looked at her hands, which were balled up on her knees, “I’m going to really miss you. I mean, it’s no fun being the only girl with a bunch of men and who am I going to complain about Gorgeous with now?” The Paladin sighed heavily, “Sleep well, Sister. Hope you’re waiting with a mug of decent beer by the time I join you up there.”  She said with a faint smile. The Woodling pulled herself to her feet and looked up at the sky above her, saluted and finally left.

~*~

Even though it was well after dark by the time Elowyn and what remained of her party got back to Toreguard, General Strucker was waiting at the gates for them,

“Did you manage to stop him?” he asked, clearly nervous about the answer he was about to receive. Enezeage, who had picked up Darkhide’s body on his way back, dropped it at the General’s feet,

“There’s the evidence.” He grunted. The General slowly grinned at the sight,

“So it’s over.” He breathed, “At last.” He gestured for one of the guards with him to take the body, “Get that to the Wizard’s Tower, no doubt they’ll want to make sure that there’s no chance of him being resurrected or have any other means of coming back.” He ordered. Two of the guards saluted, picked up the body and carted it off immediately. The General frowned as he looked the group over, “Hang on a minute, what happened to your Dwarf friend?” he asked. Elowyn stepped forward, Meredith’s mace in her hands,

“She fell closing a new portal to the Abyss that Darkhide managed to open before he died.” She said quietly, “If it’s all the same to you, General, I’d rather explain the situation in front of people who know more about magic than I do.” She requested. The General’s face fell as he regarded the beautiful weapon and nodded,

“Indeed. Come, I’ll arrange for a full Wizard’s council in the main Council Chambers for you. Grand Magus Frigidwake is something of a night owl these days and I’ve no doubt she’ll want to know exactly what happened.” He said. Felix coughed, getting the man’s attention,

“You might want to call on some of the religious leaders as well.” The gnome said, “Meredith was, after all, a cleric of Moradin.” The General nodded again,

“Duly noted, Master Gnome, I shall take note of that. But enough, I rather think you all deserve a bit of rest before you get bombarded from all sides with questions.” He said rather more gently, “We’ve arranged for you to stay in the Plot Hook overnight so that you can have a bit of a lie in.” Everyone nodded tiredly, following the General to a rather large and luxurious carriage and piling inside. By the time Orock showed them all to their rooms, they were all already mostly asleep and dead to the world by the time their heads hit their pillows.

~*~

Elowyn found herself feeling oddly calm as she waited outside the main council chambers the next morning. Perhaps, she thought, it was the absence of the Merchant’s Guild, or maybe it was because she had a decent night’s sleep for the first time in what seemed like forever. No matter what the reason, she walked confidently into the large chamber, alongside her friends, who also seemed far more at ease. Selene smiled at the group warmly as she took her seat at the head of the chamber and waited for the rest of the Wizard’s Council and Toreguard’s Religious Council to sit. This done, she leaned forward in her chair,

“Elowyn O’Toreguard, Paladin of the Light and Sergeant of Watchhouse 8, Northwest Precinct, can you please explain to the council what, exactly, transpired at Castle Dire yesterday morning and afternoon?” she asked calmly. The Woodling nodded and stepped forward, telling the combined Head Wizards and Religious leaders of the fight with Darkhide and the rest of the Cabal, of Darkhide’s apparent defeat then his opening of a new portal to the Abyss that was made permanent with the sacrifice of what seemed to be the population of a nearby village. She then went on to explain how, despite being beaten bloody and almost to death earlier, Meredith, Inquisitor of Moradin, had refused to admit defeat and sent the rest of her party away.

“We’re not sure what she did,” Elowyn said, her throat tightening at the memory, “but whatever it was, she managed to completely and utterly seal the portal. The only thing we could find of her when we returned to Castle Dire, was her warmace.” She finished, gesturing to the item, which had been placed on a plush cushion on a table near the front of the room. The Head Priest of Pellor stood and regarded the mace with a curious expression,

“I must admit, my fellows and I felt a very large pull of Divine Magic just before the earthquakes started.” He said, looking around at his fellow High Priests, who were all nodding, “How this single cleric accomplished such a thing is… well none of us have been able to work it out.” He admitted, “Normally a large ritual has to be involved to pull such a large amount of magic into a single area.”

“Perhaps I can help with your query.” A voice quavered from behind Elowyn. She frowned as Selene’s eyes went wide and the Wizard stood with a hasty, deep bow. She looked over her shoulder to find a very elderly dwarf come into the room, escorted by several beardlings and leaning heavily on an elaborate metalwork staff. Elowyn bowed deeply as well, though noting with worry that the old dwarf appeared to be quite unwell.

“Archlector Vanskleig, it is a real honour to have you visit us.” Selene said, her tone worried as, she too, noted that the old dwarf was clearly unfit to have travelled such a long distance, “Someone get him a seat!” she snapped as she hurried down from her position to assist the beardlings in helping him to a chair that was conjoured by a junior wizard. The elderly dwarf smiled warmly at the Wizard as she knelt in front of him,

“Do you require anything, Archlector, a drink of water perhaps?” she asked Vanskleig shook his head,

“No, child. I am here to find out what happened yesterday.” He replied evenly, “I am afraid I do not travel well using portals.” He added. Selene nodded and stepped back, looking over to Elowyn,

“Elowyn, dear, can you quickly summarise what happened at Castle Dire again?” she asked. Elowyn, despite how soul sick she felt to recall the events again, nodded,

“Of course, Grand Magus.” She replied. Taking a moment to centre herself again before repeating what she had told the Council. Once she was done, the Archlector nodded,

“You recall that Meredith was a Shaper, correct?” he asked. Elowyn thought back to when the group had visited Fangthane the first time and nodded,

“Yes, Your Holiness, I do.” She replied, “However, I do not see how that would have helped matters.” She admitted. Vanskleig smiled, his grey eyes twinkling,

“Ah, but it does help. Quite a lot actually.” He replied with a weary chuckle. He looked around the rest of the Council, “The ability to Shape is a rare one.” He said, “It only occurs once in every three or four Dwarven generations, and has only ever been found in one family line.” He explained, “Few know of the Redhammer Clan, but when they were exiled from Fangthane we believed the ability to Shape had been lost to the worshippers of Moradin and Throff forever.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully, “That is, until young Meredith Gruksdottir displayed the ability; at a very young age as I recall.” He shook his head, “The gift of Shaping is a blessing from Throff, She who found the Magic Clay. It would seem that when the portal to the Abyss was opened, Meredith realised that the only way to close it permanently was using what had since become known as God Clay.” He explained. Selene shook her head as several voices piped up,

“Wasn’t it used to seal up the portal under the Wizard’s Tower?”

“I didn’t think there was any of it left.”

“Where would you even get the stuff from anyway.”

The Grand Magus sighed and slammed her staff on the floor,

“If you must ask questions, do so one at a time!” she snapped, “I should not need to remind any of you about good manners!” The High Priests and Wizards who had stood up to ask their questions all at once sat back down, looking suitably embarrassed with themselves. Selene turned back to the Archlector, who was chuckling,

“Ah, now that’s the young Wizard I remember hearing about ten years ago, I did wonder what had happened to her.” He noted with a warm, grandfatherly smile. Selene bit back an embarrassed laugh as the Archlector proceeded to look around the Council Chamber again,

“As to your questions. Yes, there is no more spare God Clay that we know of, however is not Titan made of the stuff?” he asked. Before anyone could answer, he was talking again, “From what has been described, it would seem that Throff, upon seeing the calamity that was unfolding, granted young Meredith a chance to use Titan itself to seal this new portal.” The Archlector sighed heavily, “Of course, such a casting requires a significant cost.” He looked over to the mace at the far end of the room, suddenly seeming so much older than he already was, “Clearly young Gruksdottir felt that the price asked was worth the safety of Allansia, if not all of Titan.” He said, his voice low and heavy with grief. Silence reigned as the enormity of what had actually happened settled on the rest of the Chamber. That one lone dwarf had sacrificed everything to prevent a disaster worse than had occurred ten years ago from happening again was, clearly, quite a lot to take in. Selene nodded gravely,

“Thank you, Archlector. It looks like we all have rather a lot to reflect upon. Especially given the behaviour of some of the city’s people towards the Dwarven people as of late.” She stood and regarded her fellows, “I think it would be best if we took a recess for the next four hours. When we get back, we will discuss what needs to be done to properly celebrate and honour those who have already given this city so much.” She glanced over to Elowyn and the others as she spoke, striking her oaken staff on the floor and sweeping out of the room. Elowyn ignored the mumble of conversation going on as she approached the Archlector and knelt before him,

“Your Grace, I have a couple of questions if I may.” She said quietly, Aurianna quickly scampering up beside her. The Archlector regarded the Paladin and nodded, waving off his beardling assistants,

“I’ll be alright, I will call when we are done.” He assured them gently. The eldest of them bowed politely and ushered the other outside, knowing that this was a private matter. Elowyn smiled gratefully to the old dwarf,

“Thank you.” She said. Vanskleig motioned for her to sit,

“It is no trouble, child. You are clearly worried about something and wish for guidance. I would be a poor cleric to ignore such a request.” He assured her. Elowyn shifted uncomfortably,

“Darkhide said during the fight against him that… he said Moradin was dead.” She said, trying not to avoid the subject, “I assumed he was merely trying to scare Meredith, but before we left the city, she mentioned that she had not been able to reach Him.” She looked up at the Archlector with worry, “Was Darkhide telling the truth? I thought Moradin had merely forsaken Toreguard following Starhammer’s untimely death.” Vanskleig sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair thoughtfully,

“As a friend of Meredith, I feel safe in letting you know what has happened.” He said, “However, this information is to go no further than us unless it becomes something that needs to be dealt with.” He told her firmly. Elowyn nodded, hugging her knees to her chest by now,

“You have my word Archlector.” She said. The elderly dwarf nodded, satisfied,

“The Dwarven people are currently in crisis, my dear.” He explained, “There is much upheaval occurring at the moment both in Fangthane, and until recently, here in Toreguard. As a result of what has happened here of late, Moradin’s followers have become… unsure of themselves and their faith is wavering. As a result, Moradin is less powerful than He would normally be and is attempting to consolidate Himself.” Vanskleig sighed, “My faith in the Dwarf Father is as strong as ever, my dear, however, I am old and while I have a replacement, I worry for my people following my passing.” Elowyn nodded,

“That’s– That’s some heavy stuff. But I am glad to know that Moradin still exists. It eases my heart just a little.” The Archlector smiled,

“You cared very deeply for her, that much is clear.” He said in a low voice, “When I return to Fangthane, I will ensure that young Meredith is properly remembered by all under the mountain. While she passed far, far too young, she was devoted not just to Moradin, but to her people and her world. Take strength in the knowledge that you knew Meredith for who she truly was, not the legend she will obviously become.” He advised. Elowyn nodded, wiping at her eyes as they welled up again,

“Thank you Archlector, I will.” She replied, getting up and bowing, even as the Archlector called for his assistants.

~*~

Later:

“I ‘eard a little about what happened.” Mrs Higgins said quietly once everyone else had left the kitchen, leaving the Woodling alone with her thoughts. Elowyn looked up at the house’s matron,

“I think the news has made its way most of the way around the city by now.” She said with a weak chuckle. The old human fished out an envelope from the pocket in the front of her pinnie,

“Miss Meredith left this with me before you left to go to Castle Dire.” She said quietly, “Said I should give it you when you got back.” Elowyn took the envelope, her hands shaking slightly as she regarded the firm, almost runic strokes of her old friend’s handwriting. The Woodling nodded to Mrs Higgins,

“Thank you, can you go and fetch me a pot of tea? I think I’ll probably need it after reading this.” She asked in a small voice. The maid nodded in sympathy,

“I’ll go fetch a small pot of brandy to go with as well, dear.” She said, bobbing in a curtsey, before bustling off to the other end of the large kitchen. Elowyn stared at the unopened envelope for several long moments, both longing to read the letter inside, and not yet willing to acknowledge that the dwarf was never coming back. Finally, she broke the wax seal on the back and took out the parchment inside:

Dearest Elowyn,

If you have received this letter, then that means the inevitable has happened. Whatever form this has taken, know that I do not want you, or any of the others, to blame yourselves. When Moradin comes calling, I kind of have to answer Him, right? I wanted to let you know just how much the time we have managed to spend with one another has meant to me.

I know that you love your city and pray to Moradin and Throff both that, once time has had a chance to dull the wounds left behind by this most recent conflict, that our people can live in peace with one another again. I trust that Justice will be done for the atrocities that have been committed, and know that, somehow, you’ll be right there in the middle of it. Please never lose sight of that goal, for I know that it might be the only thing that you have left to cling to when the shadows gather and fate feels like it’s ripped everything and everyone out from under your feet. I tell you this as a reminder. In these last days before we finally face Darkhide, the Light that you have brought into my life has been the only thing keeping me going when I truly believed that I had lost everything.

Even though we have had our differences in opinion, know that I have ever seen you as a Sister and, therefore regard you as kin. No matter the challenges that lay ahead of you, know that I am proud to have stood by your side as you grew from a simple Officer of the Watch into a Paladin that has learned the hard way how to lead and inspire others. Even as both of our peoples face dark and uncertain futures I know that you will be there to help light the way to a better future for all.

Should you ever have need to pass through the lands around Fangthane in your travels, please take the enclosed with you.  It will identify you as a close and trusted friend of the Dwarven people and ought to keep you and your travelling companions safe despite the Grudge that will likely be in place by now.

Stay safe òrdugh piuthar and while I hope to meet you again when you finally pass to this next life, I hope it is a very long time coming.

May the rocks stay ever true under your feet,

Meredith, Daughter of Gruk, Son of Ovak

Inquisitor of Moradin 13th level

The sheafs of parchment shook and drops of water splotched the ink as Elowyn finished reading through the letter. Meredith had clearly known that it was unlikely that she would survive the fight against Darkhide. The Woodling frowned through her tears as she realised that there was something else still in the envelope. She gingerly shook whatever it was out onto the table, her heart breaking even further than she ever thought possible as she regarded the item. It was a simple Mythril necklace with a finely crafted dwarven Warhammer attached to it. Both were covered in intricate dwarven runes. Meredith’s Holy Symbol. Elowyn had seen the dwarf use it often enough to Turn the undead to recognise it immediately.

[aquadestinyswriting]

The Failing of the Seal: Part 4

Summary: Selene is getting ready to leave Toreguarde, but an incident just had to happen while she was packing

Words: 2,334

Warnings: a single mention of persons being potentially suicidal

tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm

Keep reading

It had not taken long for the Council to approve Selene’s request for a leave of absence from the city following the meeting with the Emissary. Whatever the man had said to Schreiber appeared to have greatly chastened the nobleman, who made absolutely no objections and left the council chambers very swiftly after the session was concluded. 

For her part, Selene did feel a very, very small pang of sympathy for him. Vampires could be incredibly dangerous if they were sufficiently pissed off, no matter how ‘domesticated’ they appeared to be. The sympathy didn’t last long. As soon as the session was done, the Grand Magus had teleported to her room and threw herself into packing. Chrackle watched his mistress throw several sets of clothes into a bag of holding,

~Do you really need that many sets of robes?~ he asked, ~We’re only going to Yastromo’s Tower, not the other side of Khull.~ Selene blew a strand of hair that had fallen into her face out of the way,

~Need I remind you that we can’t teleport directly there?~ Chrackle grumbled, scratching at his head with a talon,

~So why not teleport to just outside? The whole area is littered with wards and enchantments to prevent it from being detected.~ he asked petulantly. Selene glanced up at the magpie,

~Those won’t matter if someone gets the bright idea to sneak in here and figure out where my spell took me. The tower isn’t exactly invisible once you’re standing in front of it.~ 

~Who’s going to go to the trouble of infiltrating this place? They’d need to be idiots or totally suicidal.~

~You cannot seriously tell me that the Cabal won’t try it. They’ve already tried to assassinate me at least twice in the last twelve months alone.~

~And you don’t think they won’t try while you’re travelling?~

~Of course they’re going to try while we’re on the road, bird brain! Why do you think I have a second bag of holding just for spell components? To set up a tea party?!~ Chrackle was about to make a very witty and sarcastic retort when he noticed something move at the window in the main office. Selene was immediately on alert the moment her familiar stopped yelling in her head,

“What’s the matter Chrackle?” she asked aloud. The magpie simply croaked, fluttering cautiously to the hatstand next to the door and peering around the corner, eyes lighting up as he looked intently at the window. Selene slowly grabbed her old yew staff and stood, waiting for her familiar’s signal. As long ago as the Demon War had been, she had never forgotten the lessons she had learned. Most of them, the hard way.

~Wait for a signal. Don’t rush headlong into danger. Don’t be afraid to use the most potent spells at your disposal immediately. Incapacitating the enemy is fine, but be ready to kill without hesitation. Run if you can’t handle it; heroic self sacrifice makes for an excellent tale, but won’t stop the enemy unless you take them all with you. Be pragmatic; you can’t save everyone, especially if you’re too dead to do so.~ It almost disturbed her how easily the list came to mind, but running through it helped to keep her calm as she waited.

~Alright, you win. We got a Mage Hand, trying the window out there.~ Chrackle’s voice stated, ~I can keep an eye on it while you locate the caster?~

~Which window?~ Selene asked. Chrackle rolled his eyes and allowed his mistress to see through them. Selene smiled as she saw the mage hand approach the bottom right section of the largest window in her office, ~Nice try, but that’s getting snapped in half and dispelled in three… two…~ There was a loud ‘crack!’ as the fingers of the mage hand touched the window frame. A mousetrap like device snapped onto the magical effect, glowing as the metal bar sliced through the immaterial fingers. The mage hand vanished, the magic making it up coming undone. Selene came back to her own senses and nodded to the window in her bedroom,

“Right, now we’ve established that there’s been a leak somewhere, you go find the caster of that Mage Hand and harangue them for a bit. If you can’t safely harangue, follow.” Chrackle nodded and flew past the wizard and out of the window behind her. Selene grimaced, casting a protective spell on herself even as she swept out into her office, staff gripped tightly in one hand. 

“Don’t think we didn’t know you were planning on scurrying off to your little hidey-hole, librarian.” A disembodied voice greeted, “Did we truly scare the supposed greatest wizard of the age that badly?” Selene snorted,

“I’m not the one using an invisible Sending to threaten people trying to get on with taking a holiday.” she retorted, “Nice try with the Mage Hand, but you’re going to have to do better than that.”

“For all your supposed brilliance, you are a bit dense, aren’t you?” the voice practically sang. Selene’s eyes widened. She swore under her breath as she tried to link to her familiar,

~Chrackle! If you’re in range, get to the bottom of the tower!~ silence met her, causing the woman to swear some more as the tower under her feet shook.

“Well, I’d best be off. Got my own things to do, after all. Oh, and don’t worry about your little traitor friend. I’m sure the demons will deal with him too quickly for him to feel much pain.” Selene glowered around the room,

“You won’t get away with this!” she snapped. The voice chuckled,

“Oh my dear, little librarian. We already did. The Hellmouth exists. We just need to make the opening bigger.” Selene stumbled over to her desk, the floor jolting violently,

“When I find you, I am going to make you wish I would just kill you!” she hissed.

“Promises, promises.” the voice sneered, fading away, “Don’t make any you aren’t capable of keeping.” Selene sorely wished the Sending had at least had a projection of a shadowy figure she could hurl a fireball at. She was shaking out of her seething thoughts by another jolt under her feet, which sent her flying into the corner of the desk. The wizard hissed in pain as the solid wood smacked into her ribs,

~Oh, that’s gonna bruise.~ she thought to herself. Pulling herself to her feet, Selene grabbed the pot of copper wire she kept near her seat and pulled it towards her, immediately broadcasting a general Message throughout the tower,

“All students and staff of the fifth power and lower are to immediately evacuate the tower. Those proficient with Warding and protection spells are to assist those incapable. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill.” Magical alarms began blaring throughout the tower moments after Selene discarded the copper dust onto the floor. She tried to pull herself upright, only to feel blinding pain in her right side,

“Alright, so broken, not bruised.” she muttered. She tried to stand once more, only for all the ringing in her ears to get louder. Grunting, Selene kept trying to push herself up, but the pain eventually became too much and she fell to the floor, unconsciousness claiming her before she hit it.

~*~

“...oody lucky it wasn’t anythin’ bigger.”

“I’ll say. You sure that the patch-up will hold?”

“Aye. Galana willin’, it shouldn’t have to fer long.” 

Selene groaned as she finally came to. Her mouth was full of cotton and her ears were still ringing. At least the floor seemed to have stopped moving and was a lot more comfortable than she remembered. The wizard flexed her fingers, feeling soft cotton beneath them. Oh. She squinted her eyes open, trying to blink away the bleariness. The fuzzy shape of a face with a lot of dark brown around it appeared before her,

“Ah, ye’re awake, good.” Egrim’s voice stated happily. Selene huffed irritably,

“Lemme guess. I missed out on all the fun?” she asked as she pulled herself up to a sitting position, noting happily that it didn’t hurt to move any more. 

“If you call having to spend half an hour Banishing a small horde of Dretches from the basement of the tower fun.” Thaddeus’ voice groused from near what might be a door.

“Don’t mind Thaddeus, Grand Magus, he’s just annoyed that he had to miss out on getting lunch first.” Dwena chirped, “You’ll probably want these.” Selene felt something being pressed into her hands and smiled at the gnome standing next to her. Selene quickly placed her glasses onto her nose, blinking as the world finally came back into focus,

“Thank you Dwena.” she said, now realising that she was back in her own bedroom, “So who wants to catch me up on what happened during my impromptu nap on the floor?” she asked. Dwena huffed a sigh, hopping onto the end of the bed,

“We got everyone evacuated and the locals told to stay indoors. Thaddeus and about half the faculty went down to the Seal to deal with the breach while I got a bunch of people together to try and find out if anyone got in to cause it.” Selene frowned,

“I take it you didn’t find anyone?” she asked on seeing the look on the gnome’s face. Dwena shook her head,

“There was no evidence of any tampering with the seal, but Adrian insists that he wasn’t overcome by the Dretches, but by an intruder. He’s not saying who though.” Selene glared into empty space,

“I think I have an idea.” she said, “I had someone try to use a Mage Hand to get into my office before everything kicked off. Turned out that was a distraction to get me to send Chrackle away so the person in charge could use an invisible Sending to gloat.” 

“Well they did a right poor job if their master plan was to get the Seal open early.” Egrim stated, “All it took to stabilise the thing was a Consecration.” Selene shook her head,

“If the seal wasn’t tampered with, then they were sending a message.” she said, “They know the seal is failing and are just waiting in the wings for when it finally gives way. As for the attack on Adrian, that was personal.” Dwena frowned and fidgeted with the talisman she wore around her neck,

“Do you think we should get him out of the city?” she asked, “The Cabal knows he’s working with us, staying is probably getting too risky.” Selene shook her head,

“No.” she stated simply, “As much as Thazaar will probably complain about my decision, Adrian is much safer where there are more people to keep an eye on him.” 

“To make sure he’s not the one feeding them info, right?” Selene sent the skinny man at the door a deadpan look,

“He’s not working with the Cabal, Thaddeus.” she sighed, “Though he very well might decide to start if you lot keep launching accusations at him.” Thaddeus held up his hands,

“I’m not the one throwing the accusations at him.” he stated. Selene inhaled sharply through her nose and closed her eyes, calming her flaring temper. Once she was certain that she wasn’t going to snap at anyone, she opened her eyes again and looked between Dwena and Thaddeus,

“I know everyone other than me has suspicions about Adrian. I am not going to order the two of you to make sure he’s kept safe, but I am asking.” she said, “The last thing I want to happen is for him to be run into the arms of the Cabal while I’m gone. Schreiber is already unhappy enough with me and the way I run my tower as is.” Egrim chuckled, stuffing tobacco into his pipe,

“At least ye’ll no’ have to deal with him fer a bit.” he pointed out, “If ye’re feeling alright, I’ll get back to my church so ye can get on with getting yerself outta here.” Selene smiled at he old friend,

“I feel a lot better, thank you Egrim. The dwarf’s right, though, I’d better make myself scarce before Thazaar comes in and begs me to spare him from Schreiber’s wrath.” 

~Then you better hurry up. Thazaar’s on his way back and got our good friend with him.~ Chrackle’s voice stated just as the bird landed on the sill outside the window. Thaddeus groaned and slumped out of the door, while Dwena rolled her eyes and handed Selene her bags,

“Well, go on then.” she sighed, “We’ve got things handled.” Selene beamed at the gnomish woman, took her bags and waved to Egrim,

“See you lot when I get back. Try not to die in the meantime.” she called, grabbing her old yew staff from the foot of her bed and immediately Teleporting just outside the city. Selene waited by the canal, watching the wildlife and ordinary people going about their day while Chrackle caught up with her. It didn’t take long for the magpie to appear, a worn travel cloak clutched in his beak,

~You forgot this.~ he said, dropping the item onto his mistress’ head. Selene laughed as she pulled the woollen item around her shoulders,

“Thanks Chrackle. There’s always something. Now then, let’s get onto the next town before it gets dark. I’m hearing a good couple of pints of ale calling.” Chrackle cackled as he landed on his mistress’ shoulder, eyes glinting at the memory of the last time they’d done this,

~So long as you save me some!~

The sight of a slim woman in an old, woollen travel cloak, a yew staff in her hand, and a magpie on her shoulder seemed distantly familiar to some of the older folks on the canal. Most didn’t pay them much mind, but to those who remembered, it brought a melancholy smile to their faces as they silently toasted the traveller and the memory of the companions by her side.

[druidx]

The Ring of Heroes

The Ring, or Circle, of Heroes is a series of 16 statues depicting past heroes of Toreguard. These heroes are:

Alexis Dalliance

Richard Tetherson

Hextor Francis

Dhur'Graz

Ivan Jägerson

Fai Lumidas

Edwin Goodwin

Selene Fridwake

Egrim Shiverstaff

Grizwald

Meridith Gruksdottir

Enezeag

Elowyn of Toreguard

Quentin Goldenrose

Felix Phileas 'Nosey' Parker-Tinker

Snotgrut

These statues ring the 3rd and inner circle of the city, standing at the edge of the defensive canal. Prior to a few years ago, there were only 10 of the 16 plinths filled, but with recent events that has been rectified. There has been talk of the council adding more plinths in anticipation of other heroes to protect us from world-shattering events, but if the rumours are true, it has yet to come to pass.

The statues are depicted in various states of rediment for battle, and stare protectively out over the city. The specific deeds which nominated a hero for inclusion in the Ring are recorded on a plaque at the statue's base. Needless to say, to catalog them here would take quite some time...

There have been many suggestions as to why the sculptors commissioned for these statues decided to depict the heroes as they have been. One suggestions was that in a time of need, they would be animated and used to defend the city, however recent events has shown that not to be the case. After all, why would Archmage Fridwake conjure shields when she could summon 12ft representatives of our heroes past?

[druidx]

Her Countenance was Light - Chapter 8

CW: None AO3 ; Chapters: 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. Tag list (ask for +/-): @aquadestinyswriting, @hannahcbrown, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @babyblueetbaemonster

There was a time, early in Elo's career, when she was in and out of City Hall like she worked there, and not in the smallest and most underfunded police precinct in Toreguard. Since her quasi-retirement, she's been back less and less. Elo tucks her bike into the overground visitors' car park. As she crosses to the Hall's entrance, she casts her eyes aloft at the classic architecture of the building, rendered in shimmering marble. The grand edifice that is City Hall has always amazed her, but today, having not been back in some time, it feels like she's seeing it with new eyes.

She trots up the fan of steps and is processed quickly through the security checkpoint. On the wall of the foyer hang portraits of the heroes who rebuilt the city after its fall. Elo finds her feet dragging as she walks to the elevator. She gives in and stops to regard them. At the end is Egrim Shiverstaff, the Gods' own medic, in decorated vestments which only see the light of day on high and holy days. Next to him is Gary 'Grizz' Wald, the mountain man – so-called for his thick mane of dark hair. Along again is Fai Lumidas, the scholar, in his heavy robes and mortarboard. On the next row is Ivan 'the Hammer' Jägersson, broad-shouldered and unmovable. Finally, there are her Aunts – Selene Frigidwake and Alexis Dalliance. Selene, with her golden-red halo of hair, staring brusquely over a pair of half-moon glasses. Alexis, with her lips quirked, trying to suppress the smile already showing in laughter-lines carved into her weathered face. A pang of longing shoots through Elo as she stares at their well-loved faces. Aunt Alexis has been gone for nearly five years, vanished without word or trace, and Aunt Sel is on sabbatical in Europe for an indefinite amount of time. Elo's hand rises, plaintive, towards them, curling away at the last second so as not to set off the alarms. Her hand falls back, though her heart still aches; their absences seem all the more acute for the current situation. Elo blinks, finds herself scrubbing away liquid that has accumulated from staring too long and hurries towards the elevators. She makes a mental note to call her Mother soon. Elo was called away during last month's family dinner, and it would be nice, she thinks, to hear a friendly, matriarchal voice.

The offices of General, Magister and Exchequer on the seventy-second floor, below the Chambers proper. A spike of adrenaline hits – as it always does – as the elevator doors open, and Elo steps out to be confronted with the grand, carved door of the Triumvirate council. Elo nods to the two guards stationed either side of the corridor, letting them see her face. There is the minutest posture change; they know who she is and that she has permission to be here. But before she can let herself in, Elo is struck with a fit of nostalgia. She has to lean down to find the little mouse and hedgehog, their heads darker and shinier than the rest of the door, so she can give them a pat each – one from her and one from Evie. If the guards think it strange, they keep it to themselves, and Elo lets herself into the horseshoe arrangement that is the Triumvirate's offices.

Secretary General Evans is waiting for Elo in the ante-anteroom and rises to meet her. Elo absently clocks the height, weight, body mass of the woman as they shake hands. Evans is easily six foot and still built like an Amazonian warrior despite the hints of white creeping into her temples. Her eyes are pinched with worry, yet her grip remains gentle and warm. "Ma'am," Elo says. "I'm very glad you're here, O'Toreguarde," Evans says. "I'm not sure how he'll take the news. Either way, he'll need someone like you at his side." Evans has been General Strucker's secretary for many years, enough that she and Elo have a passing acquaintance. She must be greatly troubled, Elo thinks; she has never heard Evans speak so candidly before. "I'll do my best," Elo replies, mindful of Fugit's warning. The flicker of a smile graces Evans' face. "That's all we've ever asked of you." "Where-?" "The General is still debriefing and will be for the next hour or so. In the meantime, Magister Clayrmantle has instructed that you're to join him and his… guest." "Guest?" Evans gives a faint smile and apologetic shake of the head. "If you'd like to follow me?" "It hasn't been so long I've forgotten the way." "Apologies. Of course," Evans says and continues to lead the way to the Magister's office.

Evans gives a genial nod to Clayrmantle's secretary and shows Elo into the Magister's formal office. Elo hasn't been back since Aunt Selene left. She's gratified to see that the Acting Magister hasn't changed much of its decor – the wide bookshelves filled with esoteric tomes, the swirling abstract art and three-dimensional molecular compounds. Her aunt will be away for an undefined amount of time; she finds she's grateful he hasn't taken advantage of the situation as some might.

Elo scans the room. The security detail in ubiquitous black suits against the walls barely register. Acting Magister Thazar Clayrmantle – a tall, thin man in a pinstripe suit – is perched against the heavy desk which sits at the back of the room, below the seal of the City and its motto, 'semper clarior, semper audacior'. The seal also graces the wide, circular rug at the center of the room, around which curves two large, powder-blue sofas. Seated in them, she can see the side profile of two people and a third with their back to the door. The District Attorney, a man with skin like copper beech leaves and an imposing stature, is reading some report. The Master of the Exchequer, with his thinning pate and simpering expression, is seated opposite the DA. There is not much to be seen of the third – they sit low on the sofa, short of stature or perhaps slouching, with a long length of luscious black hair held in intricate braids which could belong to either gender. Elo decides now is the time to introduce herself to the company.

[druidx]

The Church of Galana and Grounds

Prior to the Hellmouth, the church of Galana in Toreguard was a small chapel with grounds so modest, as to be nearly non-existent.

After the rebuilding, it was allocated far larger grounds, in part due to the actions of the resident Abuna, Egrim Shiverstaff, who argued that anyone would be allowed access to the grounds on the NE corner. Today, the gardens cover an area of around 340 acres and are kept by a small team of gnomes and woodlings, lead jointly by Turnips and Oakrose O'Toreguarde.

The main church and associated buildings are most unusual in that they are majoritively grown from wisteria and yew by Abuna Shiverstaff with assistance from Ms O'Toreguarde (senior). There are few stone parts, notably the kitchens, however these are merely an extra precaution as the church is said to be protected from fire and blight by the Green Goddess Herself.

While congregational services are held in the main body of the church, adherents of Galana are encouraged to make use of the grounds for personal worship, particularly the contemplation pools. Each contemplation pool is screened by box hedge and offers a chance for the faithful to commune directly with their Goddess - if She so chooses.

In the spring and autumn, the lawn comes alive with merriment as the church holds feasts for Galana's Holy Day and the Harvest. These are often multi-faith affairs, with adherents of Iatro, Argowen, Aegraven, Istarel, Varantar and Ploughman joining the celebrations.

[aquadestinyswriting]

WIP Series- The Wizard's Tale

Genres- High Fantasy, drama,

Themes-  Power and corruption, vulnerability, fate and free will, relationships (both romantic and platonic), mental health, politics, betrayal of trust, grief, guilt, growth

Synopsis-  Selene Frigidwake is the Grand Magus of the city of Toreguarde, the jewel in the crown of the Drakemarie Empire. Considered one of the greatest wizards of her age, she has left the adventuring life far behind to play politics with a greedy and corrupt city council instead. Not exactly the life she had been hoping to lead after defeating the demonic armies ten years ago, but she's managed. Unfortunately, the failure of the Seal beneath the wizard's tower starts a chain of events that threaten everything she holds dear. Unable to act due to the Edict put in place by Toreguarde's City Council, she can only watch from the sidelines and hope that her guidance will be enough to allow those who now follow in her footsteps to succeed.

Main Characters

Selene Frigidwake: Grand Magus of Toregaurde and the one whose story we'll be following.

Thazaar Clayrmantle: Selene's Second and the one who takes over the duties of Grand Magus when Selene is out of the city or unable to perform her duties for any reason. A half elf with tanned skin and bright red hair, Thazaar is a kindly man, who takes care of the more mundane, day-to-day running of the wizard's tower

Thaddeus Darkmantle: Head of Academics and a dour and somewhat cynical man. As his title suggests, he takes care of the members of the wizard's tower who are responsible for teaching those who are interested in becoming apprentice wizards. He is also technically in charge of the Arcane Library, but rarely does anything in there because he is more than aware of Selene's background as a certified Arcane Librarian (and the fact that she'd rather take care of the place herself).

Dwena Diamonddust: Dwena is in charge of the tower's magical defences and security. Her Planeshifter abilities ensure that she can appear from seemingly nowhere whenever and wherever required. She also helped to design the interior of the tower, ensuring that, by using portals, everything that was required could easily fit into the available space. Dwena has also taken it upon herself to act as Selene's Personal Assistant, keeping an eye on the Grand Magus and making sure that she isn't taking on too much all at once (as she is prone to do at times).

Reginald Schreiber: Toreguarde's Chancellor from its inception until his untimely death. He is responsible for looking out for the financial interests of the city's nobles and trade guilds and does so with vim and vigour. Unfortunately, as with any career politician, Lord Schreiber is prone to being rather.... single-minded in his aspirations. Sincerely disliked by both Selene and General Strucker, he is not known for following the spirit of Toreguarde's laws unless it suits him, especially when it comes to the Edict banning the remaining Heroes of Toreguarde from acting in the city's defence without prior authorisation by both the full City Council and Lord Drakemar's vassal.

Edwin Goodwin: Originally the Abouna (or High Priest) of the Temple of Galana within Fangthane, he came to Toreguarde to minister the temple there instead when the dwarves of Fangthane declared an official Grudge against Toreguarde due to events outwith his control.

Minor Characters

Elowyn O'Toreguarde: Selene's 'niece', unofficially adopted as part of the Grand Magus' found family during the Demon Wars ten years prior. A Watchperson turned Paladin who has been sent off by 'Destiny' to save the world, following in the footsteps of both her mentor and Selene herself, despite the latter wishing it were otherwise. (Note: I know this is Dru's character, but I do have her permission to use Elowyn in my writing as it's a bit hard not to. Pre-established relationships between characters and all.)

Egrim Shiverstaff: The original Abouna of Toreguarde's Temple of Galana. An old adventuring partner of Selene's and one of the Heroes of Toreguarde who has a statue in the central plaza. He is a kind and gentle dwarf, who is more than happy to offer up a cup of something and a willing ear when Selene needs to let off some much-needed steam.

Tag list (dm for +/-): @druidx, @strosmkai-rum , @homesteadchronicles , @writeblrsupport

Stories

The Failing of the Seal (Multiple Chapters) Ao3

A Circle None Can Break (Multiple Chapters) Ao3

The Guardian's Dilemma Ao3

A Stand on Holy Ground

A Letter to You Ao3

For Love's Sake Ao3

Take My Hand Ao3

To Heal a Broken Soul (Multiple Chapters) Ao3

When Forever Comes (songfic)

The Wise Man is a Fool Ao3

Once More Unto the Breach Ao3

Comedi Vivit Ao3

Seeking Insight Ao3

Apologeticum Debet Ao3

The Librarian's Lament Ao3

Where the Flowers Grow Ao3

Mundi Finis Ao3

[aquadestinyswriting]

The Failing of the Seal: Part Three

Summary: Selene has a talk with Egrim about the situation before trying to get some time away from the city to do more research. Unfortunately, the Chancellor is not in the mood to let her.

Words: 2,582

Warnings: None that I’m aware off. DM if there is anything I need to tag

tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm

Egrim paled beneath his beard as Selene told him of what had happened at the Wizard’s Tower earlier that day,

“I didna even think such a thing would be an issue.” he muttered, drumming his fingers on his cheek nervously. Selene wrung her hands as she paced around the dwarf’s office,

“It would certainly explain the Cabal’s sudden and renewed interest in Toreguard. They’d been far too quiet for my liking.” she noted. Egrim snorted,

“Bet those Council bastards are probably wishin’ they’d let us take care o’ them a lot earlier now.” Selene snorted,

“Oh no doubt they will.” she agreed, “My main problem is that I need to have a solution on hand before I even tell them or there’ll be mass riots on the streets within the day as people panic.” Egrim grumbled, leaning back into his chair as his old friend resumed her pacing,

“You have any clue how much longer the thing’ll hold?” he asked. The Grand Magus blew out her cheeks,

“Dwena reckons we have a year, maybe a little more, before the Seal gives way entirely.” she said, “The thing is, none of us can be entirely certain on that front. Our situation is very unique and there are no records of anything similar ever happening before” she pointed out. Egrim huffed and started drumming his fingers on his desk as he thought, trying to think of some way to help his old friend. Suddenly, he stopped, frowned thoughtfully and got up to scour through the bookcase in the far corner,

“I think I might have summat.” he said, falling to muttering in dwarven as he scanned through the tomes on the shelves, “Rwy'n gwybod ei fod yma yn rhywle…” Selene waited as patiently as she could manage, trying not to pace while the dwarf searched. 

“Aha! There ye are ye wee bugger.” Egrim cried, pulling out a relatively small but very old book wrapped in black leather and trimmed with gold runic designs. Selene frowned as the cleric gingerly opened the book and flipped through the thin pages until he found what he was looking for. The cleric waved his wizard friend over and handed her the book,

“It’s in auld dwarvish, so I’m no’ expectin’ ye to catch all of what it says.” he said, “Hopefully ye’ll catch enough to get the gist.” Selene frowned, placing her spectacles at the end of her nose to read the tiny script, her green eyes narrowing in intense concentration.

“I think I’ve got the general idea.” she muttered after several long moments, finally looking up at Egrim, “Is it even possible that this sort of thing might even exist though?” she asked warily., handing Egrim the book back. The dwarf shook his head apologetically,

“I canna really say lass.” he admitted, “Ma people like tae keep such things very secret and this sort o’ thing is auld knowledge even fer us.” he sighed as he closed the book and placed it gently on the table, “A lot o’ the stuff tae dae wi’ the early days o’ the dwarven people has been lost tae the ages, I’m sorry tae say.” Selene glanced at the book, her expression thoughtful,

“I might be remembering wrong,” she said slowly, “but I think Yaztromo had some really old books on dwarven history somewhere in his personal tower. I don’t know whether it will help or not, but it can’t hurt to try right?” Egrim hummed and nodded, stroking his beard,

“It can't.” he agreed, “I reckon ye’re probably better off tryin’ to get to the library in Fangthane though.” he noted, “If there’s one place that ye’ll find this sort o’ thing, it’ll be there.” Selene made a slight face,

“Trying to convince the Fangthane dwarves to let me visit is only slightly easier than trying to convince Schreiber to let me do anything in relation to the Cabal.” she pointed out, “I think they made it pretty clear they weren’t happy with us when we tried to talk to them the last time.” Egrim snorted derisively,

“Aye, and a fat load o’ good hidin’ in their mountain is gonna do if that Seal gives way.” he retorted, “My people might be a stubborn lot, but we’re no’ stupid.” Selene sighed and sent her old friend an apologetic smile,

“I know, Egrim, I’m sorry.” She said, “I just want to be sure that relations between Toreguarde and Fangthane aren’t soured.” she explained. “I’ll see if I can’t get a hold of Edwin and arrange a visit, but I’m going to check the library at Yaztromo’s tower first.” she said. Egrim shrugged as he sat back down in his chair,

“That’s no’ a bad plan.” he agreed, “I’ll see if I canna get a hold o’ some of my own folks to find out if they know anything. Maybe they’ll know about somethin' I don't.” Selene picked up her staff from where it leant against the wall,

“That will help immensely, thank you Egrim.” she sighed, “I suppose I'd better go and ask Schreiber for permission to leave the city." She groused. Egrim frowned,

"Surely you don't need to go that far?" He said, "Tell him about going, aye, but you shouldn't need permission…" Selene cut him off with a resigned wave of her hand,

"Schreiber is about the letter of the law, Edict included, sod the actual intent." She said flatly, "As a Hero of Toreguarde that means that, as far as Lord Schreiber is concerned, yes, I do need permission from the Council to even leave the city." Egrim’s brow furrowed further, the only sign of his barely contained outrage,

“That’s bloody ridiculous. Ye’re the Grand Magus, the ultimate magical authority in the city!” he blustered, “If there’s anyone that can get away wi’ taking time to do some research outside her own library, it’s you!” Selene shook her head,

“I appreciate the outrage on my behalf, Egrim. I’m not saying I don’t agree with you but…” she was cut off as Egrim finally exploded,

“Why in all the hells are you letting that man walk all o’er ye?” he demanded, “Last I knew he was only one third of the leadership of this city and you make up another!”

“Because he completely kicked off the minute he found out Alexis was gone!” Selene snapped back, her own temper finally flaring to life. “Schreiber has already implied that, should I even think of trying to do the same thing then I’m out on my ass and Toreguarde is pretty much done for!” She yelled, throwing an arm out in the general direction of the Council Chambers. Selene, finally noticing the surprised and nervous expression on Egrim’s face, took a deep breath and let go of the magic she’d been unconsciously gathering during her tirade. 

“The leyline nexus and the Seal stopping up the portal created on top of it are my responsibility.” she said, her voice low, “I am not giving that man any chance to appoint whatever crony he wants in charge of it.” Egrim bristled at the lack of apology from the wizard, but let it go. No point in continuing to poke the angry dragon right now. 

“Just remember that ye’re not the only one that’s left, hen.” He said quietly, “I ken our numbers have dwindled a bit o’er the last few years, but I’m still here and ye can still contact Edwin if needs be.” Selene huffed a sigh as she ran a hand through her hair, fingers snagging at the ends of some of the curls,

“I know, Egrim.” she replied wearily, “I just wish it didn’t keep dwindling.” There was a moment’s silence, the only sound the gentle creaking of the wood of the church settling and the gentle ‘tick, tick, tick’ of the timekeeper Egrim kept on his desk. Eventually the dwarf cleared his throat,

“Well, seeing as ye need to go and sort things out with the Council, I’ll no’ keep ye.” Egrim finally said, “Just keep me updated on what ye find out, aye?” Selene nodded, her neutral expression brightening into a small, genuine smile,

“I will. You know how to contact me if you need to.” she said, laying a hand on Egrim’s shoulder and squeezing it as she walked past, “I shouldn’t be gone long, a few weeks at the very most. Just make sure Toreguarde doesn’t crumble to dust in my absence.” Egrim snorted, a few hairs coming loose from his moustache at the sudden gust,

“I’m sure I’ll manage, Go on and get already. The longer ye hang about here, the less time the Chancellor’ll give ye.” Selene bit back a laugh, picked up her staff from the doorframe and Teleported out of the little room Egrim called home. The dwarf wrinkled his nose at the sulphurous smell left behind, but let it be and strode out of the office to the church proper. After all that, a stiff drink was sorely needed.

~*~

The Emissary sat back and glanced between the Grand Magus and the Chancellor, steepling his long, spindly fingers as the two officials glared daggers at each other from opposite ends of the generously sized desk they were sitting at. He waved a finger, dispelling the surge of magical energy that was rapidly building up around the human woman. 

“I will set up an anti magic field if I must, Grand Magus, but I would much rather not expend the effort required to keep your talents in check.” he said lightly. Selene pursed her lips, her expression sour, but complied and allowed the energy to dissipate. The Emissary turned to Schreiber, who was clearly struggling to bite back the tirade he wanted to direct at the wizard,

“I do have access to Silence if need be, Chancellor, but I would suggest calming down before you end up saying something we’re all going to regret.” he drawled. Schreiber’s moustache quivered for a moment, before the rotund man took a breath and whooshed it out, the colour fading from his face. The Emissary smiled, flashing his too-sharp canines briefly, leaning forward and clasping his hands in front of him,

“Good. Now that we’ve all had a chance to calm down, we can discuss the matter like the adults we are.” He looked between the two humans again and mentally sighed. Mortals were childish to the extreme these days, slinging petty insults and hurts at one another until someone exploded. Normally such things were beneath his notice, but when one of those mortals could use enough magical energy to obliterate half a continent if she put her mind to it, he needed to at least play along long enough to continue his unlife.

Schreiber was the first to break to all too brief silence,

“Emissary, I do sincerely apologise for my lack of manners, but surely you realise what is at stake here.” he blustered, “The Grand Magus herself has just informed us that the Seal under the Wizard’s Tower has less than a year before it fails, and she wants to take a godsdamned holiday?!” The Emissary heard the sharp inhale and the fingers digging into the arms of the chair as Selene tried to calm herself.

“It’s not a holiday, Reginald, it’s a sabbatical to conduct research into ways we can permanently close the damn portal.” she retorted through gritted teeth, “In case you’ve forgotten, most of Yaztromo’s research was destroyed when the portal was opened and I do not currently have access to anything in the library that can help.”

“Yes, yes, decades of knowledge lost and all that.” Schreiber replied, waving his hand, “Tell me again, whose fault was that? Last I heard, that library was your responsibility. Seems a bit churlish to complain about a lack of knowledge due to your own carelessness.” The Emissary fixed Schreiber with a cold, predatory stare, holding up a hand in Selene’s direction before the slim woman could even stand,

“Lord Chancellor, for your own safety, I am going to have to ask you to leave.” he hissed, “Unless, of course, you would like to see what the epicentre of a Fireball cast at the ninth power looks like.” When Schreiber still didn’t move after a moment, the Emissary allowed a trickle of his own power to rise to the surface. His eyes flashed red for the briefest of moments and his canines elongated ever so slightly. He casually twitched his fingers into a casting position, all while continuing to stare at Schreiber, who’s eyes widened and complexion paled. The rotund man quickly stood and bowed, wiping at his forehead with a handkerchief,

“Of… of course, my Lord. I will wait outside while you finish speaking with the Grand Magus.” he stuttered, backing towards the door as quickly as his shaking legs would allow. He fumbled with the doorknob a moment or two before finally getting the door open and practically fleeing out of it, letting it slam shut behind him.

“I wish you’d actually follow through with your threats at some point. He’d be far more useful as a Spawn.” Selene noted, her tone light even as she glowered at the now closed door. The gaunt gentleman allowed his features to return to their resting state as he relaxed,

“Sadly, Lord Drakemar deems him useful enough to keep as he is. Besides, it’s not really healthy to feed on one so large. Too much fat in the blood.” he replied conversationally, “However, getting back to the matter at hand.” he said, gesturing towards the wizard. Selene sighed,

“I meant it when I said we had a year at the most.” She said, “Unless I can find something that will permanently close the Hellmouth, we’re going to have a catastrophe even bigger than the Demon War on our hands.” The Emissary nodded, his expression grave,

“Take your sabbatical, Grand Magus, Lord Drakemar has invested too much into Toreguarde to see it crumble into the Pit and I’m sure he would rather you took some time away to find a solution rather than being stuck where you cannot find one.” Selene sagged in relief, bowing her head low,

“Thank you, Lord Emissary, I will make arrangements with the Wizard’s Council to ensure that a watch is kept on the Seal and to inform you of any further incidents while I’m gone.” The Emissary nodded,

“I will be happy to work with them to ensure that Lord Drakemar’s investment is kept secure.” he said, “Please, do not worry about the Chancellor, I will deal with him and sort out the relevant paperwork to make sure everything is above board.” Selene nodded, pushing her spectacles back up her nose as she stood. She gave the pale man another bow, picking up her staff of office,

“I appreciate that you’re going to such lengths. Please give Lord Drakemar my regards. I should only be gone for a matter of weeks, hopefully with a solution in tow.” The Emissary also stood, dusting down his waistcoat as he inclined his head,

“Good luck, Grand Magus.” was all he said before Selene activated a Teleport spell and vanished from the office. He couldn’t blame her, the Chancellor was proving to be something of a thorn in the woman’s side. Shaking his head, the gaunt gentleman sat back down and rearranged the paperwork that had been blown around as the spell went off, not even looking up as the door creaked open again.

[aquadestinyswriting]

Character Profile: Edwin Goodwin

Might as well do a cursory intro for one of the major secondary characters in future works involving Selene. Edwin is an ex-adventuring partner of Selene’s who is now a sort of common law husband? I’m still working out the finer details of that relationship. Needless to say, they’re together and raising a family.

Please note: Edwin was originally a Player Character during an old campaign, so any details of his history prior to becoming an NPC are currently omitted. Said player was more than happy to allow me to ship him with Selene and to write about it when it was brought up during the campaign I GM-ed.

Name: Edwin Goodwin

Race: Human

Job: Abouna (or High Priest) of Galana for Toreguarde.

Current Age: 39-40 years

General Description: As of current fiction, Edwin has brown hair and sports a well-kept beard and moustache and, while somewhat slender, has filled out a little since his adventuring days (good, honest Dwarven food and beer along with a somewhat sedentary job will do that to a man). He is a bit taller than Selene, and is normally seen wearing the vestments of his station, which are generally a forest green colour with embroidered hems in a brighter green.

Personality: Edwin is a warm and compassionate man, who loves his work and the people he comes into contact with through it. He is nearly always the first to offer a listening ear and cup of tea to those who need it, though he will also be the first to call out his friends on their actions and behaviour if he feels it is unwarranted. Though he is a fairly laid-back individual, Edwin also sports a stubborn streak that can easily match that of the dwarves he spent ten years living with. Edwin is also very slow to anger, he is very much a man of peace and prefers to use non-violent methods to diffuse tense situations, though woe betide those that do manage to sufficiently anger him. Remember that saying about the quiet ones?

Notable events

The most relevant event that took place in Edwin’s life prior to moving to Toreguarde thanks to Fangthane’s Grudge against the city, was finding the almost entirely abandoned Temple of Galana in the depths of Fangthane. He was Called to take up the position of Abouna within the dwarven capital and retired from the adventuring life so that the temple could be looked after and become a part of dwarven culture once more. Edwin then spent the next ten years living in Fangthane before he was forced to swap places with Toreguarde’s Abouna, Egrim Shiverstaff. The Fangthane Council felt that having a human having a position of authority within a dwarven city would set a bad precedent.

He did assist in the defence of Toreguarde during Ragnarok and, following those events, finally settled down with Selene and convinced her to adopt two half-dwarven children that the two of them are now raising together. 

[aquadestinyswriting]

Places: Toregard City

The photos in the post below show the general layout of the City-State of Toregard, the home of most of the adventures that take place in the world of Titan in our campaigns.

Toregard was not always a city. Indeed the City-State only came into being a scant ten years ago, with the backing of the Empire of Drakemar following the defeat of the demonic armies that had attempted to take over Allansia. That history, however, is a story for another time.

Toregard is situated in the Southern end of the Pagan Plains, near the edge of the Flatlands. The nearby rivers have been extended into a canal system to allow for easier trade with the towns and villages near the western coast and proper roads connect the city to the various towns and cities all over Allansia.

Places of Interest

The Council Chambers- situated in the centre of the city, the chambers house not just the main Council Hall, but also the courts, both civil and criminal, as well as the offices of the nobles and guild masters that sit on the Council. The office of the Emmisary of the Drakemarie Empire is also held in the tower, near the top. There is also accomodation reserved solely for the use of Lord Drakemar himself should he decide to visit the city in any official capacity.

The Plaza- situated at the base of the central tower sits a large plaza surrounded by statues of the Heroes of Old Toregard. These depict the heroes that defended the original fortified town and fought against the demonic hordes that had destroyed it.

The Wizard’s Tower/Wizard’s Quarter- In the Northwestern-most corner of the city stands the Wizard’s Tower. Until recently, the tower emitted an otherworldly glow of blue/purple energy from the top. This was due to excess energy escaping from the Seal covering the portal to the Pit that once scarred the land. The Tower houses the seat of the Wizard’s Council and the offices of the various wizards living in the city as well as a minor school for potential apprentices. The top of the tower is home to the Grand Wizard and Head Arcance Librarian Selene Frigidwake. The main library sits next to the tower and is currently the largest repository of Arcance Knowledge this side of the Drakemaries Empire and Fangthane. The area around the tower and library is home to most of the magical emporiums and alchemical shops within the city. As a result, this part of the city is prone to experiencing some of the more... unusual activity that sometimes occurs in magical areas.

The Dwarven District- Situated in the Southeastern corner of the middle part of the city, this community is home to a fairly large number of Dwarves who provide most of the metalwork and smithing services for the city and is the main hub through which trade with Dwarf-majority cities and towns such as Fangthane and Stonebridge occur. At the centre of this community is the Temple of Moradin, headed by High Priest Olin Starhammer.*

The Garden of Galana- Situated in the Southwestern outer corner of the city, this large and beautiful walled garden is home to the Church of Galana and is home to a very small community of Woodlings and a few gnomes that found refuge within the original town during the initial attacks by the demons ten years previously. The Church is headed by the Dwarven High Priest Egrim Shiverstaff.**

The Plot Hook- Owned and run by the Ogre Drunken Master Orock for the last ten years, the Plot Hook is one of the few buildings remaining from the original fortified town. It has since been expanded and now houses a large fighting pit and backs onto a large arena shared with the Temple of Khord. The pub hosts regular tournaments and events in order to keep the normally high class patrons entertained.

*In our own campaign the city is now entirely devoid of dwarves due to racist attacks by a group of humans calling themselves the Brotherhood of Cleaving, helped along by some of the more corrupt members of the City council. The district is currently in a state of disrepair and the Temple of Moradin has collapsed in on itself as the Dwarf-Father has apparently abandoned it. The City of Toregard is currently on the Fangthane Book of Grudges due to these events.

** Due to the Grudge against Toreguard by Fangthane, Father Shiverstaff has been replaced by the human High Priest Edwin Goodwin, who had been the High Priest of the Fangthane Church of Galana following its re-discovery in the mountain by Father Goodwin and his friends.

This list is not exhaustive, but it highlights the most prominent locations within the city within our campaign. If you want more information on any other parts of the city, please let me know and I will happily update this post with more info.

[aquadestinyswriting]

*recovers from nearly choking on her lunch and busts out cackling*. I don't care that this is too long for a drabble. You have delivered and then some!

I adore Alexis' wheedling at the start. This is exactly how I remember her trying to get stuff out of people. And Egrim is just as despairing as I recall him being when someone did something stupid and he had to fix it 🤣 (gods bless his player, that man always knew just how to roleplay that kind of interaction).

Then finding out how and why Lex's hand got so badly burnt 🤣. Yup, that sounds like the kind of shenanigans that would end up happening in that situation. Bless Alexis for saving Chrackle from his own stupidity, I'm sure Selene appreciates it.

Good on Alexis for putting the shiny straight back after tripping the trap (and probably lecturing Chrackle after swearing up a storm I'm sure). Gotta love Egrim's tone as he checks though, because you know that if Chrackle could have squirelled that shiny away in one of his nests, he would have.

The conversation around where this tool place was awesome too. I could picture exactly what the place looked like and could clearly imagine the scenario happening there. Your descriptions are on point as always 💜.

Then the reveal of where exactly Chrackle was trying to steal the shiny from *cackles madly*. I adore Egrim's and Alexis' reactions here. They're such polar opposites in that moment, it's wonderful. I adore the idea that Logaan just felt like pranking Lunara and used Chrackle to try and cause some mischief (this is totally a new piece of canon now btw, thank you 💜).

I think Chrackle needs to go lay low around Alexis for a bit. As much as Egrim is telling her it's fine, I do not doubt that Lex is heading home to look for her crossbow before finding out where Chrackle went 😅. I also adore the little detail that Egrim is laughing too hard to do his Blessing properly. It's a cute and adorable detail, and I'm sure Galana is also getting a good laugh out of the situation as well.

Thanks again, hen. Fantastic work as always 💜💜💜

As per your recent post, here is a character and three words as requested:

Alexis: hand, cottage, incident

<3

Hmmmm. It's, uh. A bit longer than a drabble... (Also I wrote it off the cuff with no references so apologies for any errors)

CW: Fantasy religion Setting: Vanilla Fighting Fantasy Tagging: @hannah-heartstrings @jacqueswriteblrlibrary

That Bird is Trouble

"Egrim, oh most devotional servant of the Green?" A dark-haired dwarf looked up from the ledger on his desk, peering over a pair of spectacles at the shadow hovering in his partly open doorway. "Hmm?" "Might I trouble you, oh devout one?" "Ye already used that one. Yer gettin' sloppy, hen." The shadow cleared its throat. "Gracious Abouna, whose perception is second only to my own, might I trouble you for a liddle iddy biddy pinch of healing?" Abouna Shiverstaff huffed out a long-suffering sigh. As if taking this as a positive sign, the shadow drifted a little closer. "What did you do?" he asked, rolling up the green sleeves of his vestments. "I, ah, burnt my hand." "Well, come on then. 'Tis called 'lay on hands' for a reason."

The shadow changed from a shadow to a short, middle-aged woman with russet skin and dressed in black leather armour. A hand is produced, the flesh bubbled and raw. "Alexis," Egrim said, after staring at the grotesque appendage, "what in the Pit did you do now?" "It's Chrackle's fault. He bet me I couldn't get this one shiny." "Ye made a bet with the bird?" "Well, look, see. If he'da gone after it, like he wanted, Sel would be scraping roast magpie off the street. So, in a way, isn't it better that I made a bet with the bird?" In response, Egrim let out another long-suffering sigh and began to chant under his breath. Curlicues of green light reached out, caressing the wounded hand. Alexis kept quiet as he worked, not wanting to ruin his concentration. He finished, and she flexed the new-formed skin like one might work in a glove.

"Thank you, o magnanimous one. I'll leave my donation with the delightful gentleman on the door." "Ah, ah. Not so fast there, jargh. Just what was this shiny t'was so precious and how does it relate to your burned hand?" "Oh well, the last part's easy. There was a trap." Egrim looked at her sharply. "There was a trap, and you missed it?" "Oh, no. I didn't miss it. I can tell you exactly what power of combustion spell it used, and the expertise required to make it, and how I would replicate it myself. Given a little more time I could probably have told you who made it and where to find them. "But, uh. I didn't exactly go out this morning thinking I would need to disarm a trap and thus I didn't have the particular tools one might need for a trap of that calibre so I. Hmm. I tripped it." Alexis sniffs and twitches her nose, eyes darting away. Egrim pursed his lips, unimpressed gaze lingering long enough to make the woman squirm. "And the shiny?" Egrim asks, in a fatalistic tone. "A broach, made out of a silver metal and mother of pearl. Given the power of the trap, probably mythril. An elven design, I think. Very expensive but maybe not unique – I'm sure I've seen the design before." "And of course," Egrim says in an even tone, "once you'd done your appraisal and gawked over it for a bit, you'd have put it straight back?" Alexis says loftily, "Yes, of course. And quite frankly I am offended by you insinuating otherwise." Egrim snorts. "So where did you find the shiny then?" "A little cottage in Crystalwick. I'd just been to see Sel, and Chrackle was being a nuisance as I left, so I followed him." "Makes sense ye've got most in common with the magpie…" "I heard that. Anyway, it's a pretty little place, covered in a climber of white flowers. Single story, loosely latched shutters, in a display case next to a desk, which is probably how the nosey bird found it." Egrim is frowning. "Was there lots of moon-related iconography around the place?" "Yes, now you mention it." Egrim huffed out a despairing chuckle as he stood to select a book. He flicked to a page and twisted the book around. "Was this the design, by chance?" "Yes. How did you–?" Egrim burst out laughing. "Oh! Oh, Logaan got his hooks into Chrackle today, eh?" "Abouna Shiverstaff!" "Ye tried to burglarise the high priestess of Lunara!" Egrim cackled, hysteric. Alexis' face filled with dawning horror. "I didn't." "You surely did." "I'm gonna kill that bird!" Egrim hauled in lungfuls of air, waving a hand. "Nay, stay yer hand. Yeth Imryll's a patient lass. Just go offer to reset the trap, and all will be forgiven." Her eyes still flashing with anger, Alexis gave Egrim a courtly bow. "Thank you for your advice, Abouna. Blessed be." "Blessed be," Egrim said breathlessly, making an attempt at Galana's symbol. With that, Alexis stalked out, muttering threats to turn Chrackle into a pie.