Building What’s Lost
#9In the rays of a sunrise, I departed towards Sullivans Port, trying to keep my promise to Vivili – to visit her as often as humanly possible. Fortunately, I found her in the fields – yes, the very fields I was teaching Michael at about farming. The fields of „Plants fear the Iron“, where I always corrected him – that the „plants like the Iron.“
SpoilerNostalgia aside, Vivi and I had a pleasant time together – perhaps beside the talk about how Ash is sort of forcing her to stay with Nuzu in a relationship to prevent the attack on Valstiir enclave. That doesn‘t sound like Ash. I don’t know who to trust anymore.
Stopping by Hadrian’s Inn for the usual sweet cake for my past darling, I stumbled upon a wounded man, limply leaning on his sword in the center of the square. If wouldn’t be me if I haven’t come closer and show him the necessary directions – this time, it seemed to be quite dire, so I suggested using the services of the local Temple.
Temporarily preventing the man from receiving his treatment, there went mister Raul (with whom I talked about my order, though it seems it might take longer than any of us estimated) and a halfling trader, offering us various valuables. Surprisingly, I chose a Phoenix belt, an accessory suited to my needs. The only thing left is to wait until the end of the Skettus silent auction for the Elven Crafted Amulet, and I should be good to go to any battle or situation.
I went on with my day afterward, visiting the grave of my dearest one, with a book and a cake. I like to read at that place, it’s very enjoyable and serene... after you get rid of the constant nuisance of ever-returning bandits.
As I was slowly closing the chapter, a proclamation echoed through my head – it’s Joriin! He seemed to have successfully finished his ritual, which is something I want to see the results of! I’ve been waiting for the news, almost desperately, as he has become quite a close friend of mine.
I can’t say I’m not surprised, as the disdain of Arcanists towards sorcerers is widely known. Even though all of this, Cashand and I have come to a mutual understanding, and we seem to accept and support each other in a way.
I have to see him.
I lunged into a hug with Joriin, joyful of my friend’s return – though he was changed. His previously black-brown hair has faded in color, leaving it steel grey with streaks of midnight blackness. Heh, both of us have come to a conclusion that now he’s even more pale than I – which seems to be a personal achievement of his own. I wonder HOW pale would I be after undergoing such a transition. Perhaps I’d be white as the snow on the cursed mountain...
As Joriin and I were catching up, deeply indulging in a friendly conversation, the man from before, now bandaged, has come to the square again, meeting our Mayor Morgaine and her partner, Fjord. Those three have talked some introductory stuff, as it often goes in such situations. Our Mayor loves to welcome new arrivals and travelers in person.
Joriin, curious nonetheless, walked up to them after a while, casually asking several questions. I joined them soon, now even I have become curious about this red-haired fighter.
His name turned out to be Darius Arren, a temperament fighter with a sword and a spell. Seems to be of a sort not unlike Uldur, though something about him is vastly different from the knightly teddybear Uldur proves himself to be.
Later the group separated, leaving Jorrin and me on our own again, next to hi favorite cart with kegs. I wonder what made him pick that spot... Perhaps his love for wine?
Not minding the business of the port town, we talked and agreed to continue at his estate.. or a mansion, I should say? His enclave.
Fun thing is, that I barely keep in mind his immense power and the position he has. When he’s with me, he simply becomes... my friend. And that’s all he is at that given moment. Perhaps that’s why he spends so much time with me. Perhaps it’s refreshing.. perhaps it’s something else. Either way, I’m the one sorcerer he doesn’t hate – so I’m content with the situation!
At his place, while we were talking about both magical and non-magical stuff, he had shown me a creature he can summon, an undead two-weapon fighter. Towering mummy, never tiring out, not knowing pain nor fear. A rather impressive ‚pet‘, as he calls it.
After that display of power and skill, he’s shown me another change of his body – his, now completely skeletal left arm, entwined in magic.
„May I touch?“ was my question, a careful one, as I didn’t want it to sound too pushy.
He allowed me, with a smile, offering me to take an even better look at the bath.
My soul filled with expectation, Cashand took off his glove and lifted the sleeve of his suit, exposing the skeletal limb. I stared at it with marvel and curiosity, watching its smooth movement and soft texture, as the light of the mythallar shard occasionally reflected on the dull bone surface.
I reached forth to gently touch it, running my fingers across the smooth textured surface. I felt a few tiny dents here and there, y fingertips following the curves of the bones. Entranced by the wonderful display of willpower and magic, I became absorbed by the studying of the arm. I ran my hand lower, carefully exploring and touching the bones of the wrist, palm and fingers. Cashand chuckled, watching me play and explore, seemingly quite amused and happy with the situation. I remember him being afraid to take that step, worried about losing friends. Why would he worry, though? I expressed how beautiful I find it to be, which surprised him a great deal. I held his hand, feeling the gentle warmth emanating from the hard, smooth surface, albeit a bit rough at some places. Not giving it much of a thought, I intertwined my fingers with his phalanges, taking in the feelings with an open heart. I looked up at him, thankful and glad. Continuing the talk, I forgot I held his hand – which I later apologized for. Thanks stars, Cashand didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest. He didn’t accept the apology, telling me there is nothing to be sorry about, that he is happy someone expresses a genuine interest in the things he’s done. And gave my hand a little squeeze.
I must admit, such warmth, kindness and openness are rarely found in people, and I certainly didn’t expect to find such traits in a Master Arcanist – and a necromancer in one.
As our talk continued, both of us gave the bath a thought. As his estate seems to lack a proper bathtub, as unexpected as it is, we went to my place to let him have a bath in my steel-rimmed tub. It’s not like that bathtub hasn’t seen more men than I did... as if it matters, after all. Caring about friends is important and necessary. And to be frank, Joriin and I have seen each other already, so there was nothing to be nervous about. For both sides.
I prepared the bath, as usual, warming it up with my inherent flame, with Cashand watching from the distance. He then sat down into the hot water, relaxing, and I was invited to touch his skin. It seems the half-undeath made his skin more resistant and hardened. So I did.
I gently slid my hand across his upper back, not feeling any difference at first. Though as I slightly pressed on the skin, I felt the unusual toughness. I went a bit further and pinched at his right shoulder. He obviously didn’t feel a thing. As I continued my touches, Joriin tried to reassure me, saying that I can do as I wish, and to try what I wish. After that I sat next to the bathtub, leaning my head backward, resting against his humerus. We were both relaxed and content, with Joriin flexing his phalanges now and then, and I watched. As the wholesome evening continued, I mentioned my last will, that I’m giving my body to him for the research purposes. He.. was thankful, but not excited about the idea of me passing.
Definitely, a nice and lovely evening. I slept well... no more nightmares, it seems, at least not for tonight.
Morgaine’s proclamation disturbed the writing of the Michael’s chronicle Uldur asked me to write. She’s preparing to go to the Asylum again... and as her spellmaiden, a guard, I had to be there. I quickly dressed into the battle robes, grabbed my staff and rushed out of the door.
Thinking about many recent events I arrived to see Mayor and Fjord already at the square. Even though they’re together, there aren’t many familiarities and affections shared. Usually. A few more people have gathered along the way, including Casper.
SpoilerUpon entry, our party met a mysterious, masked woman – calling herself ‚Lue‘. She turned out to be disguised Vivili, my troubled, crimson flower. She came to help us, being the only one who truly knows what lies in the Asylum. The deeper we got the heavier my head became – not because of any spell, but because of the knowledge of how vast and difficult the renovations are going to be. Even though Joriin already offered his golems, it will take some time and considerable effort to transform that wretched place into a true health-promoting facility I dream of.
Deep in the maze of Asylum, we found Zilta, seemingly wandering about. Not much later we left to explore the surroundings, finding a small crypt, though we were able to see the massive rest of the underground, beyond a pitch-black pit. Giving up on the crypts, we headed back up – meanwhile, the hordes have emerged, though have been immediately punished by the spell of Zilta and I. I gave Morgaine several battle wands to use in the times of need – I trust she is going to use them in the best-suited situation. She is my Mayor, after all. How sad I can’t craft more wands, as I’m not getting re-paid the sealing fee of the Arcanist Guild craft rooms.
As soon as Vivi exposed herself, throwing away the disguise, Joriin distanced himself, declining to work alongside her. Laws and position don’t allow him, as he later explained to me, and I further told it to Vivi. She, fortunately, understood.
Continuing our mission, the group decided to walk back to the main gates after paying a brief visit to the Groundskeeper. And, at the gates... A massive ancient vampire, far more enormous than any of the giants living in the Landslide part of the hills, squeezed out of the entrance door. My summon and Pattie frightened out and blindly attacked – by a split second I managed to send Pattie back, evading a deadly blow. Giant and we then talked. Only briefly, as Count Voust didn’t seem to obey the laws and requests presented. Instead, the fight has begun.
All of us had fought beyond our limits and with all of our powers – Fjord held the ancient vampire back, so the spellcasters were free to rain magic and fire down on him. The magical resistances of the monstrosity have worn out, his flesh tattered and charred – with the beast now fleeing to the depths of the wretched building. We followed.
The main door locked behind us upon entry, leaving us trapped in the massive labyrinth of pain and death. We pushed on and through the endless, soulless monstrosities until we reached one of the larger halls – now hosting two magma balors and Narrius himself.
The battle was quick and ferocious, draining our powers even more. I was already out of magic, being able to weave only little cantrips and keep my eye on the Mayor.
She was struck down, yet I’ve been able to stabilize her in time – which seemed to make Narrus the Tyrant even angrier. His focus turned towards me, as his booming voice resonated through the polished stone hall – “Die, DIE!!”
He got me.
His fangs dove deep inside of me, I felt my own armor piercing me as he tore my flesh…
Then I woke up, fighting for breath, suffocating. My vision was blurry with tears of struggle, I saw a hint of red and then blue, vibrant colors against the grey… was it ceiling? Colors got lost by the seconds, and when I no longer even felt my body struggling for breath... A wave of healing, soothing energy washed over me, a familiar and welcomed feeling of the healing wand magic. I could breathe again.
This was close.
The situation was as follows – Vivili, seemingly not knowing about my allergy, emptied a whole potion inside of my mouth. I’ve been fortunate that at least someone remembered my situation and used the wand – I wouldn’t be able to write this entry otherwise. Thank gods.
Vivi… Vivili felt horrible.
Just a few minutes after a helmed Arcanist, apparently looking for Zilta, has appeared and opened a portal to the Arcanist building in Hadrian, and we safely passed through.
I had to have come crepes with cream and a short rest.
Coin, here I come.
Meanwhile, the energies got out of balance and the sun got surrounded by the black aura. Undead flooded the streets, and as a guard, I fought. On my patrol, I rescued a bearded young man – apparently of celestial origin, as he sported a pair of rich-plumed, pearly white wings on his back. The soft fluff of feathers stained with the decomposing, dark fluids spilling out of the wounds of the zombies.
I at least healed him, as I couldn’t help him up due to his size and heavy armor. His name is Johannes, and he is indeed, an Aasimar. Something seems a bit off about him, his history not having much of the expected parts of a partially angelic being. Well, be it what it is, I needed to keep the man safe. A citizen is a citizen, and the safest place at that moment was by my side. So, I had him tag along for the duration of the patrol until we parted ways.
Uldur told me of his favorite memory of Michael. The joy he has seen on the face of my beloved when he presented him the black unicorn horn – at the time the last ingredient for the Selune temple cure. Even though, I doubt it would have worked.
SpoilerLater in the morning, I went to the Sailor’s Coin... It’s a nice place for when I feel like being alone but not entirely, in case I’d start doing something to myself again. That time Ash saved me haunts me still, as I’m unsure whether I will one time turn against myself again, and that time, there wouldn’t be anyone to save me. Or, willing to.
People are not the nicest, with some exceptions of course.
I met Cashand as he was resting at the inn by the fireplace – surely getting some heat into his body, as he has mentioned before that ever since his pale master transition, there are times when he feels incredibly cold. Perhaps I could ask him about trapping my flame in a magical blanket or something, so he can find comfort and warmth anytime?
Either way, we slowly started talking. As close friends, able to enjoy eachothers‘ company without the words. Just as it was now. First one who spoke was I, and from there, the laid-back conversation of a fire sorceress and a pale master had bloomed onwards. We talked about various topics – his wonderment and curiosity about what would have become of me if the shadow taint was allowed to consume me whole, his admiration for Roz’dha’s spellcraft, his plans, the fallen enclave, friendly hikes, red mists... and how we two can do some work to stop the mists entirely. As usual, Cashand presented many good ideas, and especially one surprised me, as he mentioned that NO ONE tried this yet – to simply TALK with the druegar! Morgaine bragged about killing them once in a while, but especially from someone like her... to not even try the utmost base of diplomacy!? That let me down if it’s true. Now I doubt that any of the deep dwarves would be willing to listen to us, due to what humans put them through already.
My dear Joriin mentioned he’d like to drink less, and since his favorite beverage is wine, I tried to work something out. In the end, I brought him a bottle of a currant-blackberry juice. His warm and surprised smile when I handed it to him, and the taste seemed to be similar to the taste of wine. I’m glad.
The moments by the fire were interrupted by Johannes stopping by, and not-so-subtly asking about Michael’s death. Cashand has tried to steer the conversation away, keeping an eye on me for any signs of discomfort. After the worst had passed I casted a Message cantrip and mentally told Joriin of my gratitude – he simply smiled in response.
...
A clearly audible announcement came up – Any adventurers and such were to see Planewalker Steven Darvis at the Hadrian’s Magic Store. The task was simple – to explore what lies beyond the new portal gate. A hefty bunch of people has gathered, and within a while, we all stepped through the planar gate, into the unknown.
The other side was... a city, it seemed. Much different than our cities usually look, with tall, slightly wrenched buildings and wide walkways. Housing freely-wandering hordes of undead, which quickly fell under my flame and the joint effort of all those who have passed through. A moderate while later we’ve found a door, being opened by unusual mechanism Johannes seemed to know.
So we entered.
It was a building, with long, winding polished stone corridors and halls with cushiony couches and feather-soft beds. Yet none of us dropped their guard.
The building was empty.
On a hidden town square, we’ve found a huge, glowing obelisk adorned with various runes – meaning of which I didn’t know. Fortunately, we had Joriin with us, but before he could do any further research on the faintly glowing, pulsing pillar – a man of a name ‚Honest‘ pressed one of the runes. In his imagination, it seemed like two.. pleasuring women, and that was the reason for his action. Strange man, certainly not the sort I’d like to ever meet in person.. especially not in private. His action at first seemed to caus nothing – however, after a few seconds passed, a pack of water elementals has emerged, drowning several members of the group under their forceful waves. We defended ourselves and helped those who have breathed in the copious amounts of water, making sure everyone stays alive.
To my disappointment, most of the present folk couldn’t find a better thing to do than to criticize Joriin for something that would've never happened without Honest’s dull action. I walked up to the necromancer’s side, being silent support. He is a nice person, and can’t be left alone in this – even though he can easily manage, and certainly does not mind. I was surprised by his question – „Are you okay?“
The words of care rarely heard from anyone else, let alone another mage. I tilted my helm to the side, whispering to him a few short, warm sentences.
The pillar seemed to be a key to the planes, something beyond my current understanding but Cashand seemed familiar with it. Johannes just stood there, looking at the two divided groups, trying to bring them to work together. Joriin and I were open to that, but the other mix of people were of much less willing sort. As it is was by a chance, the two people who kept themselves blind to who Michael truly was were there too – the halflings Casper and Marlee, glaring at everyone else without a reason. Hmh, and Marlee kept telling me before that she prays for Michael’s quick recovery – and when he recovered, she was the one to first throw accusations and untrue words at him! People who keep two faces should at least be subtle about it, this is just annoying. Anyways, the second group declined to fully join forces, despite Joriin’s battle capabilities – thanks to which we all finished the mission alive.
We’ve found several books describing the base four elemental planes, available for anyone to study for the knowledge of their creatures. Darius, Johannes, and Joriin set up a book study meeting – and after my playful question whether a lady is being left out, Darius simply remarked that my role was already solidified due to ‚my relationship.‘ Now I don’t know what it was supposed to be about, as the conversation has been quickly steered away to other topics. Downstairs, Johannes asked Cashand and me to later be in privacy with him, which seemed alright to both of us... so we agreed.
Before we left though, Helle pulled me aside. I told her coldly of Michael’s death, expecting her to be joyful at his demise, as many others surely were. Many, many others. While at times being even worse human beings than he could get to be. But Helle... seemed sad about hearing it. Perhaps for me, as I always accepted her, even though her Sharran religion.
Joriin and I certainly didn’t expect a time at the large inn room – which I have still pre-paid by Vivili – with the manly Aasimar telling us both about each other, and some traits of each of us. It was interesting, to say the least. And he got to scratch my head in the metal gloves... which gave me a thought. With Cashand’s skeletal arm... could it feel good? I got to try it.
After our time at the inn, Johannes and I parted ways with Cashand, who went home.
Me and the Aasimar went on to study the fire tome... at least I did, he studied whatever he could.
But before that we went to visit Michael’s grave for a moment, leaving the usual cake and a bunch of wildflowers. Then, Johannes decided to talk. We have done so for a little while and headed to my basement afterward, exploring the various creatures and their forms.
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