DM Barcas - Kingmaker: Rivers Run Red

Game Master Isaac Duplechain

Borodin turns and nods to Verik.

"Greetings Banker. It is good to see you well. If any of you wish it, I will submit to Verik's powers to seek the truth of my claim. Hopefully this should allay any fears that we are enemies."

Akiros pays close attention as the newcomer Borodin speaks begins to tell his tale. Then, as the other Founders enter and begin to speak and share their opinions his directs his attention towards each of them in turn.

When Jemini mentions food and refreshments, Akiros signals to some of his guards to alert the castle staff and make it so.

As the flow moves back towards Borodin again, the Marshall speaks once more "I do not see that shall be necessary, Borodon. I have never know Taisper to vouch for someone lightly. At all. I would like to know much more about the 'alternate timeline', yet perhaps it is as Elsir says, and to know too much would do more harm than good. More importantly I say, is to determine what we should do now."

Turning his attention to the Pathfinder mage, he asks "Is there anything that you can tell us that may directly affect our needs or decisions right now?"

Politely waiting for the right moment.. Elsir hesitated. He has said what he needed to say. In truth for a elf such as him who was dabbled for so long in the questions of chronomancy and divination, he frowns. Some moments were more "right" than others, the important part however was knowing or anticipating what actions might spawn from the possibilities introduced.

In one of his many introspective moments, Elsir felt... lost. Disconnected some how. The whirling of time and fate had drawn him to the point. Time should have been contiguous in the darker reality, and yet it was not. That suggested that there might be other timelines that would cause the primary one to slow, or perhaps even flow backwards. It was an interesting idea.. but one that could be explored later. Regardless, Elsir felt like his silence had lasted to the correct point. It might have felt like weeks since the combat started and been resolved, and yet it had been a few minutes. It was odd, but it was not the oddest thing the elf had experienced to date... no... that was not true. He had see things in his visions that would blind other men or drive them to insanity. Things that might cripple minds and ruin lives for the weak. This was if he was being honest perhaps the most profound event of his life to date. It would warrant deep reflection in the weeks ahead.

Snapping out of his thoughts, the elf looked up and gave wan smile. My apologizes all for the lack of discourse as of late. I was momentarily... disconnected in thought. Bowing at Jemini, the elf rises. It is finally a pleasure to meet you in person Lady Lebeda. Looking up and past her to the gathered others, Elsir gives another mysterious smile. Though this is the first time I have laid eyes on you all, its not in fact the first time I have seen you. For the last six months, I have felt a pulling, drawing me towards this place. As a diviner I see visions and half-scattered truths, omens and augurys. In some of these I have seen each of you. Though I know we have just met... it feels like I have known some of you for years. Eyes glittering in a quizzical manner, the elf shrugs. Or perhaps I am just gaining the occasional glimpse of one of my future selves. Regardless, it seems that this is the place I am supposed to be. And that is well, for there are dark times ahead.

In response to Verik and Akiros

Zander will kick his feet off the table and sit up, while removing his helm. He will nod agreement to Taipser's and his own assertion that the men seem trustworthy, "Although it still might be worthy to provide him a test with your magics...visions can be faked. But I would dwell on the truth of his origins and not on the details of his arrival. It could be said we are already in an 'alternate timeline' was the words used, or it would not be I now wearing the Stag Helm." And here he nods at Akiros, "We changed one, I say we can avoid another more easily. The vision I saw...we will all do what we can to avoid it, but I ask our new guests to not dwell on the finer details, out of respect for those present...and for Newhaven."

"Ahhh..." Verik swivels his head from the formal and polite newcomer swordsman Borodin, to Akiros' request for more information, to the elven sage's cryptic observations and then to Zander's cautions on the subject, most of which Verik failed to adequately grasp.

"Yes...yes I see," says Verik in a tone that clearly conveys he does not see. "Well then, we should take your words of recommendation close to task Zander...and ahh yet I also agree with Akiros on the need to have some meaningful disclosure on today's events. Perhaps though we should reconvene in the private meeting chambers upstairs in a half-candlespan after some proper refreshments are prepared." He nods in Jemini's direction for reassurance. "If that is agreeable to you, First Founder, of course."

Verik waves to his two Abadarian clerks over by the stairs, and points to a smaller nearby table that has been previously set with cup and platter for an impromptu meal as the Founders sometimes do. "My good clerks, please channel some water to those cups and attend to...ahh...Masters Elsir and Borodin, whilst I see to Pathfinder Gunderson's wounds more fully. Willas, sit down over here and let me have a look at you."

Taisper seems very distracted, staring into the distance as if he can still see the vision of the future in the Founders' Hall. "Yes, I trust them. They are precisely who they say they are." He falls quiet, cryptically quiet on why he seems to trust them so completely. Taisper would normally be watching and gauging them, probing their auras with his Vision. This time, he simply accepts them as they are offered.

Willas watches as the burns and tears in his flesh slowly heal. He groans in pain as the flesh knits itself together, aided by Verik's healing spells. "Thank you, friend. By the by, might I request your permission to open a Pathfinder Lodge in the city?" He laughs to himself, as if remembering a funny joke in the light of the horrors of the last few hours - or the next twenty years, if things do not go right. "Actually, I would like to insist on a Truthtelling spell. For myself, at least. I would not insist upon forcing others to the same. I plan on adding this set of events to the Pathfinder Chronicles, and your certification would go a long way in establishing credibility to what I readily admit is an outlandish tale. Elsir here is a renowned expert in divination, true, but his word does not lend quite the credence that it once did. Excuse me, clerk," he gestures to Anya, "I would greatly appreciate it if you would fetch some paper and ink. A hundred pages, to be safe. I trust that you can transcribe the answers that we give in relation to the questions that surely percolate through the collected noble minds here."

With Verik's nod of assent, she complies with his request and returns with a ream of paper. Willas, Borodin, and Elsir sit in the Founders' Hall and answer the questions about their experience to the best of their ability. Anya gets through an entire vial of ink and dozens of pages written before they finish in the afternoon. They eat well, sharing a freshly-slaughtered pig raised on the farmland to the north, roasted to perfection. Elsir declines, requesting a simpler fare of beans, grains, and fruit. Borodin, on the other hand, barely seems to know what to do. This food that they take for granted is more sumptuous and plentiful than anything he has seen in years.

1st of Desnus
Borodin had eaten far too much. At first he paced himself, for he knew it would be bad to gorge everything he saw, like a wolf that hadn’t eaten in a month. He did a good job at first but wanted to try a little of everything brought out. Before he knew it he was feeling ill.

Excusing himself, he decided to explore a little bit of the town. He had been cooped up all day in the library going over events in the darkest future with Elsir, Willas, and Verik. Anya was amazing. He couldn’t believe she transcribed everything spoken so quickly and accurately without stopping.

Stepping outside in the evening breeze brought him out of the events of today. The weather was still cool as the sun sets, although the last few weeks of Spring were waning. Walking down the main boulevard, he took in the sights and sounds of a town at peace. He noticed that the town was only but one third the size it had been when he first arrived in 4727. He could make out the groundwork of the city’s infrastructure, comparing it in his mind’s eye to the city that greeted him so long ago.

He passed close to a mill on his walk down towards the farms that spread out to the southwest of the castle. There were a half dozen or so children, playing hunter hunts. It was nice seeing younglings laughing and playing without care.

He drew some stares from the children as he got closer. It was obvious to them he was a newcomer to Newhaven. He waved to them and was about to continue his stroll when it hit him. He recognized some of the children, although not as they were now. Looking back, he made eye contact with one of the older boys on the periphery of the group. Borodin could tell by his physique that he was the miller’s son. Hard work, even at that young age, had made him lean and wiry. But those eyes he had seen before.

They were the eyes of the miller, from that hell hole he called home for so long. As Borodin turns and continues on, he is struck with a vision of the past-future.

He and a few others in the resistance took three bags of grain from the miller’s stores to supplement their supplies. Nikolai had the miller killed the next day for the crime.

He suddenly felt sick. Reliving things in his mind was making him dizzy. A wave of anger flowed over Borodin at the memory. Then grief, followed by regret. He looked away and saw another familiar structure, and was immediately struck with another horrible memory. He turned right down the next street trying to flee the area, as if that would make the memories subside.

At the next intersection another familiar place sparked another vision. Borodin now at a run, tried to rid himself of the memories as fast as he put distance between himself and the triggering location.

After what seemed like hours, Borodin finds himself at the edge of the Tuskwater. Exhausted and out of breath, he drops his pack, strips down to his loin cloth, and wades out into the water. It is quite cold and takes his breath away as he jumps in. As the cold water numbs his body, the pain and nausea subside.

After a few minutes, he trudges back to shore and pulls a clean towel from his pack. Dressing himself in the darkness was not too difficult but Borodin realizes it would probably not be a good idea to stroll back to the castle at night. Cursing his stupidity he walks a hundred yards away from the shore and starts to make a small camp for himself. He laughs. Luckily, I have everything I need right here. He pulls a small two man tent from his pack and gets to work.

Akiros sits through the meal and storytelling, eating his fill and for the most part remaining silent. With his cool demeanour and nearly always inscrutable features, it would be difficult for one to tell, but, almost despite himself, he is both horrified and fascinated by the vision of a possible future that enfolds. 'It is like some dark tale of warning and woe spun by some mad, twisted bard.' he thinks to himself on more than one occasion. Also on more than one occasion he finds himself sending long, contemplative looks towards his former master, Nikolai. More than anyone one here, Akiros knew the man the former Stag Lord had been, and what he had been capable of. Reading between the lines, Akiros was easily able to ascertain much of the story that the time travelers, wisely, left out. Nikolai had changed so much from the man he had used to be, yet had he changed enough? Looking deep within himself for the truth, the former second in command to the man now recognized as the heir to Rogarvia truly did not know what evils Nikolai might still be capable of. He did know one thing though, be they friends or not, no innocent blood of Newhaven's citizens would be spilled while he, Akiros, still drew breath. He had dedicated himself, heart and soul, to Newhaven and the protection of it's citizens, and he would die before allowing harm to come to them. Looking back on how much of the future history he had been absent from, perhaps that's exactly what he had done. Or would do. Or however it was best said when thinking of these mad possibilities that might lie before them.

When the meal and the story end, and Borodin excuses himself to explore the town, Akiros assigns two guardsmen to accompany him. Verbally, he explains that they shall simply serve as guides, for this Sanctuary must be far different than the one Borodin knows. Yet they both know the truth, and, after a long gaze they both share, Borodin nods, knowing he can do nothing but accept it. Akiros nods in return, knowing that his message, 'This city is under my protection now', has been received.

After one last, long, meaningful look with Nikolai, the Marshal of Newhaven then excuses himself as well and makes his way to his bedchambers. Thoughts of a future he does not live to see, and, gods forbid!, one where his beloved, and any children they may have, suffer horribly, weigh his steps. Entering their room, Elspeth glances up from scribing a letter to her best friend back home, and can instantly see, and feel, the heavy emotion coming off her husband. Rising and moving to him in one graceful gesture, she puts her hands to his face and gazes deep into his eyes. Silently willing some of his pain and despondency onto herself, she then gently kisses his cheek and wraps her arms around him. He was so big, so strong, and he took so much onto his own shoulders it amazed her sometimes that he did not simply collapse under the weight of it. Yet this was also a large part of why she loved him so. He was so dedicated to the people of this land, his sense to duty so deeply rooted, and inviolate. Yet she knew he could not do it alone, and so she willingly, gratefully, lovingly added her strength to his. Unwrapping herself she takes him by his big, calloused hand and leads him to their bed. Undressing him and then herself, caressing him, loving and healing him with her every touch and gesture, she slowly pushes him back until he is lying down. Still, no words have been spoken, and they wouldn't be for some time. She knows they will come later, and that he will tell her all the he is able to. She knew there would always be some he could not tell her, and other parts he would withhold to protect her, yet that was not what was important. This, now, their being and sharing together, in deep and silent love, this was what mattered. As well, this was her duty, or at least a part of it, and it was one she undertook with great gratitude, passion and love.

Much later, as they lie entwined and spent, and healed, Akrios rises to an urgent knock on the door. Informed by one of the guardsmen that a distraught seeming Borodin had taken off running out of the city, the Marshal looks back over his shoulder at his beloved. She, knowing his burden of duty is one he can never set down for long, simply nods, giving him leave to depart. Dressing quickly, taking only his cloak and sword, the former Ronin dashes out, running alongside the guardsmen to find the fleeing timetraveler.

Arriving at the Tuskwater just in time to see Borodin putting the finishing touches on his campfire, and then lighting it with a simple word and gesture with his hand, Akiros stands for a while, until he is noticed. When Borodin looks up and sees him, Akiros dismisses the guards and walks towards the campfire. Looking the question, after Borodin's slight hesitation and then nod of invitation, Akiros drags over a log and sits down, warming himself with the flames. He says nothing though, and after a few moments of silence, Borodin realizes that the Marshal did not come here to talk, or question, but merely to sit and share a fire, one warrior to another. The stars hang overhead, silent as well in their eternal observance, and a beautiful, quiet, Newhaven night passes by.

Later that fateful night

Jemini looks up at the night sky. Inbetween scattered clouds a vast vista of stars shimmer silently. A fitting metaphor, she thinks, then out loud she continues the thought: "one can almost imagine that each star is a leaf in that time tree they spoke of. Maybe there are other us, up there, looking toward us right now. What do you think?" The last part is addressed at Nikolai, her only companion currently.

It wasn't really a question and she doesn't wait for an answer; it just takes her two brief seconds to continue. "I don't think our new arrivals were completely honest in their recounting of their day's events; at least in the sense that there is more truth then they were willing to part with. Perhaps in deference to 'us' - who played such a dominant role in those events. Or perhaps they didn't want to inadvertently trigger thoughts and actions that would lead to a future they've just escaped."

She sighs, in her head brief flashes of what she had heard from her perhaps-future battle with Nikolai keep turning. "I've hardly caught any of what came through to the present from our clash - the fight between the two of us." She smiles a little, ruefully, "From the sound of just those few scraps, it seems like a tale any number of bards would try to lay into epic song."

She looks Nikolai squarely in the face. Although in the mostly-dark around them not much of her own, or Nikolai's, face is clearly visible. "But, I clearly heard a few of my words from then - it seems that the Jemini then, much like I now, was prepared to take that knowledge to the grave; and it took something of such monumental nature to pry it from me. Her. It's a little confusing to speak in times." In the dark it isn't very clear, but Jemini smiles at herself at that last thought.

"We're not our future selves - and I think the events of today offer a clear message that nothing is set in stone; rather than destiny knocking, we cast the die and see how they fall. Even so, I think it is right for me to tell you now what I couldn't until then: I'm barren, I've not shed blood from my womb since the battle of Stagfall." She pauses again, a bit longer this time, as her words sink in with Nikolai. At length she continues, "I... I was confused about it at first, even blamed you in secret. But I have since had ample time to pray and seek advice of those knowledgeable in such matters. All investigations assure me that my womb is completely healed and functioning as it should - no magic makes me barren either. It is as if something else is holding back my blood. Perhaps the most obvious reason, then, is that this is an additional cost, a tithe to Pharasma, to remind me of the bond she created between us. I think, though, that it is deeper still: what spurred me on and brought me back was the knowledge of Choral's return. My very existence, now, rides on the desire to save my friends and family - this whole nation and those around it - from the Conqueror's grasp. Perhaps that is it. Perhaps, once all this is over and Choral is defeated, maybe then I can be a woman again."

Desnus 1st, in the Founders Hall after dinner

Verik sits back in the high-backed chair as he places his linen napkin on the plate and pushes it away from him on the table, almost as an open challenge to himself to not put anything else upon it. The meal was superb in both presentation and flavor, and was the first truly fine meal the Banker had consumed in weeks. He drains his goblet of a rather less-than-exquisite Brevian spiced red wine - his second goblet he had to admit - and gives thanks that it was at least not common ale or cider.

The day was long and the revelations were profound to put it mildly, once again challenging the Banker's notions of what was "normal" and predictable in the so-called Stolen Lands. His mind wanders to certain phrases and statements made earlier that afternoon by Willas Gunderson under the Truthtelling, fitting the snippets of truth together with unspoken truths that could not be logically avoided, putting the pieces in place like that of a puzzle box. Perhaps Pathfinder Tel'ran was right in warning of the implications of "knowing" too much of the future that was not the future. Verik's thoughts turn dark at the inevitable conclusions of what lay before them, what might or would be. He reaches for the silver-enameled wine pitcher and pours himself a third cup.

Willas and Taisper both dined next to Verik for their sumptuous meal, but Taisper had departed soon after to leave to his family, and Willas was clearly exhausted both mentally and physically by his experiences, retiring to his rented abode not long after Borodin and Akiros left the Hall. This left the Banker of Newhaven alone to mull over his jumbled thoughts and watch the others for a time.

Jemini at the head of the table, looking serene and confident as she nearly always did while speaking of some matters of import to Halorouth Callmanov and Aylene Varn concerning Varnhold and the centaur alliances. Yet, Verik could sense that Jemini was affected by the tidings of today's events. Surely she was more clever than he on picking up the unspoken meanings of the vision that was experienced by the two Pathfinders and the soldier from that time.

Nikolai, glowering but mostly silent this evening, clearly brooding over what had been uncovered. Verik notes he keeps looking towards Jemini with a veritable malestrom of emotions playing across his hardened features, his countenance more chaotic than usual for him. Verik can pick out some of those turbulent emotions, but not all.

Zander, sitting next to Jhod Kavken during the meal, but picking his food and clearly not hungry, lost in his own thoughts. Verik has not had much in common with Zander in the last months, beyond their mutual concern and pain over Tandlara's unending coma. Yet, of all the Founders who encountered today's events, it is not lost upon Verik that perhaps Zander has the most balanced perspective, the keenest insight. The Banker makes a mental note that while he does not agree with Zander on many issues of law and the governance of men, there is much that they share in common for love of Newhaven and its people.

As Verik ponders these and other thoughts, he sees his "acting" Junior Banker Thomas Quiss enter the hall, looking around briefly until he spies out Verik and then moves towards him; Verik gives a brief wave and as he approaches he makes a motion to a spare plate and cup, which Thomas initially declines out of propriety, yet at lingering glance of the fine roast pig soon relents and serves himself a small portion before sitting down at Verik's right side.

"Thank you, Revered Banker," says Thomas with a wry smile before pouring himself some chilled water.

"Certainly Thomas." He looks at his senior-most Clerk with a critical eye, noting his hands bear some callouses and his bearing looks noticeably less soft, though he moved across the Hall with a slight limp. "Master Stosz tells me you performed adequately in his exercise routines and weapons training sessions, though you seem vulnerable to your left side in his drills."

"I am...humbled and pleased Master Stosz would have positive comments to say about any of our performances, Banker," answers Thomas with a slightly sardonic expression. "I thought we achieved little but to increase his capacity to bear disappointment. Except the Twins of course, for they had a natural aptitude to excel under his rigors."

Verik chuckles at the thought of his Clerks coming to understand just how soft they were under his cousin's labors. "Woeful or not, you have learned something of value in the experience. Thomas, this land requires a hardness that our brethren can safely ignore in other lands. We, however, cannot." In so many ways I failed to comprehend, and more on the way it seems... Verik shakes his head slightly and changes the subject. "You have everything well in hand this eve I take it?"

Thomas nods his head as he takes a relished bite of the pig, finally answering, "Yes, of course Revered Banker. Eben and Dannil are at the Keyhouse now for evening devotions and storytelling with the Initiates, and the Twins were finishing up evening preparations for the Bank when I left for here. Anya was brewing tea for a long night of transcription in the study, and would hear of no recommendations of rest, but I did not press the issue, as you know how she can be when she is set on a task."

"Mmmmm...yes that's Anya for you. I knew not to talk her out of it, but let us make sure she has a full day off from duties tomorrow after morning services."

Thomas nods as he continues to finish off his plate, and Verik asks him to fill another plate-full for return to the Bank and a surprise treat for the clerks, as the pig is large enough to risk going to waste otherwise. Chatting over a few other small matters of the Bank, Verik eventually stands from the table and lets Thomas know he will return late; excusing himself from the Hall he takes his wine goblet with him as he takes the far-side stairway up to a landing he rarely goes to in the Castle.

**********************
Up on the Northern Castle Battlements

Verik stands and leans on the stone battlements looking out across the evening sky with the stars twinkling about, a cool breeze gently blowing past him out towards the Tuskwater. He fiddles with the empty wine goblet in one hand, his mind wandering in many thoughts - some dark and gloomy, others tinged with hope and promise. He knows with what transpired today that something must change and be different somehow, though he does not know exactly what. Eventually an idea forms in his mind, an encounter. An unpleasant encounter to be sure, with little probability for success. Verik weighs his selfish desire to not even try such a preposterous notion due to that low probability, but recognizes that by not trying at all he is ensuring such a possibility would never come to pass. These calculations and other wilder thoughts preoccupy the Banker's mind as he watches the many citizens of Sanctuary go to sleep in the town below him, just another night in a pleasant Spring.

Zander sits through the meal but it is not a warm affair and his appetite is not in it. The vision picks at his brain, much like how he pushes morsels on his plate. What he saw....what could happen. He knows it is best to drop it, that that would be the best way to avoid the future by not providing it a guide.....But what if that IS our destiny?

It was not lost on him that he was not there...as a future self. And he had early on come to think he knows the reason why....I would not stand for it. He would have been the first useless martyr of the revolution...he would have been stupid.

Taisper shared the same vision, but resisted till the end. That makes sense to the Warden as well. Tasiper has plans within plans that he is very careful about keeping quiet. Zander knows he must learn from the vision, and it it comes to pass, change it in only one way, if he can, that he might be there to fight the Usurper........it makes so much sense now, as do why he was drawn here...Milani's vision. Newhaven has not needed a revolution....until now....or until the future. He was meant to start a Newhaven revolution, but only if needed, so he must prepare....and be sly about it. This could all be a bad dream, but if the time comes and the situation demands it....he must be ready to strike, before that monstrosity in the vision can attain power.

Zander knows with deadly solemnity that he must be always prepared, for the sake of Newhaven's future if the need arises........to kill Nikolai.

2nd of Desnus – morning

Borodin wakes up and realizes Augur is in his hand and half out of its scabbard…again. You know, one day I might just do myself in and not even know it. Must have been a pretty bad dream.

He was worried that a side effect of the time travel was making him crazy. All those ghosts of events to come. He even thought Akiros was a shade before he realized he was in deed flesh and blood.

Akiros had stayed until well past the midnight hour before returning to his home. At first, his arrival seemed awkward, but after a few moments of shared silence, Borodin felt a camaraderie he remembered from his time at the Mivon garrison.

He lies in his sleeping bag for a few moments before getting up, thinking about recent events. With a practiced quickness, Borodin packs his gear into tight bundles and shoves them into his haversack. He marvels at how much fits in there even though he has had the enchanted bag for years.

He pulls out a small satchel of fruit and cheese that he had taken from the night before and enjoys an impromptu breakfast on the shores of the Tuskwater. The sunrise is beautiful on the lake, something that is not lost on Borodin. The air seems cleaner in this time period, with less soot.

With the last of his meal gone, Borodin makes his way up the long rise towards Sanctuary Castle. He asks a few of the staff for directions and in half an hour, finds himself at the door of a quaint one story home.

He stands there for a moment before raising his hand to knock. Before he can do so, the door opens to reveal Taisper Stozs, aka The Cog. There is a silent greeting between the men, even though they don’t really know each other yet. Hmm, I guess there are things that transcend time.

”Where can we talk?” is all he asks his once master.

Taisper opens the door fully to Borodin, allowing him into the house. Borodin looks around as he walks in. The home is neat and orderly, though plain and spartan in its furnishings. A few child's toys sit neatly on a wooden shelf to the side, while a number of books and journals occupy a bookcase. Taisper motions for him to take a seat at the table, which is a sturdy and plain block of wood with little adornments. From what Borodin recalls of the Cog's few reminescences about his life before Nikolai's betrayal, his late wife once lived on the frontier. Between that and Taisper's asceticism, Borodin is surprised that there is much of anything in the house.

Taisper pulls out a wooden chair for himself and sits down. He looks intently at the traveler, measuring him with knowing eyes. "I've been expecting you, Borodin. My wife has taken Nicholas to the market so that we can speak in private. Anything that you say within these four walls will remain here."

Borodin sets his pack down along with Augur and sits at the table. ”Funny, but I somehow expected as much.” He looks down for a moment and lets out a deep breath. ”I must admit that I had serious reservations in giving you that scroll. I did not read it and I don’t expect you to tell me the contents. But I hope that you would confide in me your thoughts on the matter of Nikolai and our purpose here in Newhaven."

"My reluctance was not out of malice, but out of worry for you. I spent long hours with the Cog so I knew that you are married and have a son. But hearing it from him was like listening to a long lost legend. You comprehend things but it just doesn’t seem real. Now, seeing you and your family, I desperately want to avoid the future I came from. Not for my sake, but for yours."

"I mean no insult, but you were very hard, unforgiving in the extreme. But that was what was required to survive under the dragon lord’s regime. I can see that you are truly happy now and I do not want you to lose what you have now.”
He looks down at his hands on the table, and then back up to Taisper.

”Elsir seems to think we should not talk too much about that future and he may be right. He may also be right about not trying too hard to prevent that future as we may actually propagate it. I think me just being here now has altered reality enough that we won’t see that future. It very well may be that the discussion last night of Nikolai’s possible future betrayal could have given everyone here a new perspective and may force more cooperation amongst the founders.

But whatever happens, I hope you know that I have your back and, if it is needed, I am ready to kill Nikolai Rogarvia.”

With that said, Borodin waits for Taisper’s response.

Taisper sits quietly and listens to Borodin speak as he lays out his willingless to act. "Nikolai... I don't know if he has to die, or if will be too late when he does deserve it... Or if killing him now might just doom Newhaven to fall without his help..." He seems unsure of himself and his mission. "Y'know, I spoke to, uh, the Cog, I suppose, when you all were heading over. I know what's at stake. He showed me what I need to do. He told me that he was complacent, that he could have prevented everything that happened. So it's up to me this time to make sure that your past isn't Newhaven's future. It will require sacrifice on my part. But he told me that you have a part to play here as well, why he sent you back. You need to watch Nikolai, to grow close to the other Founders. Offer your services to Jemini. Go with them on their adventures and protect the nation against everything that is coming. My part means that I can't be there to do these things, so I need you to do it for me."

"Forgive my choice of words. Please do not take them to mean that I'm looking for an excuse to kill him. I am not. But truth be told, I don't like the man. The Nikolai from my past has done so many horrible things one could argue that it would be wise to end the possibility of him turning against Newhaven. But I understand that Choral is out there somewhere. And if we are to be successful in repulsing his attack, Nikolai is definitely a strong ally."

Borodin stops suddenly, and Taisper can see his pupils dilate in recognition of something.

"Taisper, what exactly do you mean,...sacrifice?"

Back on Desnus 1st, up on the Northern Castle Battlements

Looking out across at the starry reflection upon the Tuskwater and feeling the gentle breeze behind him, Verik impulsively sets his empty wine goblet upon the ground and steps forward to the edge of the stone walkway. He closes his eyes for a moment and breathes deeply as he places his left hand upon the golden key medallion symbol hanging from his neck. Uttering a phrase of Celestial invoking the Blessing of Cobblehoof's Wings as he has done so often before, he completes his invocation; a shimmering pair of eagle-like wings made entirely of golden motes of light briefly appear behind his back, illuminating the battlements around him before fading. With the prayer complete, Verik sets his jaw in determination and jumps off of the battlements, soaring at a slight decline from the castle walls towards the lake.

In the year or more since he was granted this extraordinary gift from the Master out at the Isle of Candlemere Lake, he has discovered a nominal degree of successful understanding of magical flight - something he has worked at diligently ever since he started offering it as a serviceable (and income-generating) boon to wealthy patrons. While wearing only his chain shirt for protection he has found his ability to manage himself in the air on ascents and turns as nominally passable, and even has begun to understand something of the way the winds shift at different elevations, varying near the lake based on the time of day. He has never felt sheer exultation of flight the way many of his patrons have - perhaps because his fears of injury or doubts of skill in his own mind have prevented him from fulfillment. Tonight, however, he feels much as he did on that very first morning over the Candlemere...and the consequences of mishap or failure do not weigh upon him as they normally have in the past.

Freedom... Verik thinks to himself as he soars out over the water and slowly takes a wide banking turn towards the north. I am only blessed with this wonder for just a span of moments, but I wonder what it would be like to soar above the clouds for all-time? One could get used to traveling as such. There would much to see...to not be isolated to just one place...waiting for the next hammerstroke to fall...to toil and labor away at something that could spell doom for all who vainly attempt it. I could not accomplish it with this blessing, but what would it be like to fly out across the lake, the Sellen, back to Absalom...or Oppara...or somewhere else in the Inner Sea? Who knows? Perhaps the woman I should wish to spend the years with is out there, and I reside here in futility...to only have known love unrequited...waiting for one to come that may never do so...should I not consider the possibility that I should...NO!

Fly: 1d20 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (3) - 2 + 2 = 3

Verik realizes as he chides himself for his fanciful thoughts of childishness and wanton cowardice that he has slowed too much in his slow circle over the lake, losing too much speed. He makes a brief gasp and wills himself to as much momentum as he dares, keeping his descent from becoming a full inglorious plummet into the water. He rights himself just a few feet above it, feeling the spray of the water with his right hand. Slowly, he begins a slow ascent without turning.

Fool! What woman of true merit, courage and intellect that I should desire ever want a cowardly cleric who abandoned his calling, even if I were to meet her? What is the point of avoiding a deadly certain future if I lived the rest of my long days in cowardice and shame? To abandon all here to oblivion, or hasten it in my absence? Even if the Master forgave me for such a transgression, I could never forgive it in me. So then...I stay here to toil and labor and suffer and die? If I ever do find a woman to love, do I consign her to death along with me because we remain? Children born to never grow old? Is there no other road?

Realizing he only have a span or two of moments left, he carefully brings his turn back towards the east, mentally working to ascend as much as he can while still being steady, keeping the walls of the Castle in his distant view. Climbing slowly but ever higher, he breathes a sigh of relief as he mentally tracks his progress and estimates he will be well above the walls at the present rate. Paths of the future indeed...even if I knew with full certainty that we would all die in a dark future, and all that we built here would amount to nothing but ash and memory, would I abandon it to save my own skin? To what purpose? Is there not value in building this land in the Master's vision, even if it cannot endure? Is the memory of what once was enough to claim it worthy?

Verik flies just past the battlements and pulls up in the air, rapidly slowing his speed and allowing him to drift over the walkway even as his spell begins to dissipate, setting him gently upon the stones just a few feet from where he had started. He hears the footsteps and chink-chink of chainmail from a guard approach with the light of a lantern, stopping short when he recognizes the Banker regarding him.

"Founder? Forgive me ser, but I heard something strange and thought I saw shadows of something flying to the walls..."

Verik nods and waves a hand to the guard as if to indicate all is well. "No need for apologies, guardsman. I was what you saw, a blessing of Abadar made manifest. Please note that you spoke with me on your report at your turn of the watch and I can answer any questions to Prefect-Marshal Ismort if need be."

The young man seems to weigh the strange occurrence in his head as well as Verik's reply and makes up his mind. "I shall do so, Founder Jarrow...umm Banker ser. Goodnight to you."

Taking up the goblet that he had set down before his flight, Verik nods and returns the salutations, heading to the nearby tower where the stairwell leads back down to the full floors of the castle.

Desnus 1st, On the Northern Castle Battlements

Crossing his arms contently, Elsir stared up into the nights sky. He had once heard of a breed of fortellers in passing that had studied the nights sky, the travel of the stars and the planets to foresee the future in its movements. As a long lived race, the Elf had accepted it as a possibility, though the watching of the sun and stars seem to himself to be more clockwork precision rather than randomness. To be sure, there could be rare celestial phenomena that might be regarded as omens, comets, solar bursts and the aurora for instance, but such things seemed vague to him. Though he supposed no more so than reading tea leaves, entrails or in his own case the resonance from his handcrafted mirrored bowl.

Smiling faintly, the elf watched as the young banker landed on the battlement and was questioned by the guard. Elsir closed his eyes. He felt the northern wind brush up and tousle his hair. Where had the wind first arose? The man wondered. Such a small breeze, not unlike the strands of fate that spun about them now. And yet... even a breeze could grow to a gale in an eye blink. Shaking his head, the odd elf, opened his eyes. It was cold here in the north, so very very different from the hot and fetid jungles of the south from where Elsir's last thread had ended, or curtailed, or transitioned. Shaking his head again the Elf just sighed. Even for him, a wizard who had spent over a hundred years learning the arts, he wasn't sure what to make of some events. And now, after what he was coming to call his... trip they seemed to make even less sense. Faintly against the moonlight Elsir smiled. It was not that they didn't make sense, it was that Elsir simply lacked the understanding.

As the Banker approached, Elsir suddenly moved slightly. The rigid pose the elf had kept as he had thought of such things dropped away from him. He transitioned from his timeless, thoughtful state to something slightly more animated. Banker Jarrow, The elf stated formally, not bowing, but inclining his head in a nod of respect. Since I arrived here on the 25th my partner has had nothing but good things to say about you. I was wishing to speak to you about the future. Raising his hand, the elf chuckled ever so slightly. No dire omens or warnings this time, simply some plans for the future that I hope you can assist the Society with.

Running a single slender finger along the stone bulwark, the elf shuttered. The place had not always been known as Newhaven Castle, once long before that it had been ruins that had been reclaimed by the man who was now known as Nikolai Rogarvia. Touching the stone, Elsir felt the feelings of rage, anger, power and frustration that had infused this building for so long. It was softer now, enshrouded by a feeling of hope and renewal, but the undercurrent still remained. A lesson to be sure.

Specifically I have two requests, my first request concerns the ruined tower that lays upon the center of Candlemere Island. Prior to arriving in your nation, I spent several years in the Expanse studying with a team of like minded individuals in a cylopedian city. With your discovery, Willas specifically requested my assistance. I can read, write and speak Cyclops, Draconic, Elven, Ghol-Gan and Giant and I'm passingly familiar with the history of the northern Cyclops nation known as the Koloran Empire from several ink rubbings from their site at Hask-Uktharan. I would like your permission in the weeks ahead to travel there and make an initial survey of the area. Gazing out over the battlements, the elf turns back to regard the banker.

The second request deals with land and a charter. Willas, gods bless his impulsive soul convinced me shortly before our.. trip that it would be in our best interests to found a Lodge within your city. The next time you meet with the founders, I would like you put the motion up to pass. Based on what I have seen since I have arrived here, Newhaven still lays within a nexus of possibilities. In the future, my self remained here for several years before.. dying. Regardless, I believe that this is still the best course of action to pursue. Personally, I believe that it would be for the best on both parties. Currently the nearest Lodge is the Dryblade House in Daggermark, quite a distance. Not even Brevoy holds a Lodge, it would be seen as quite the upset. Also the establishment of Lodge could act as a center of learning in the city. Eventually I plan to establish a residence there as well as take on apprentices. On the same token, while this would benefit your nation, this would help the Society. If Newhaven will be, as it seems at the center of a rising tide of fate, by the Society being pre-established before the events, we will be able to be at hand to record the events of your nation. Finally, and I do believe this is a strong point to consider. At this time your city, from what I understand lacks much expertise in the arcane arts. By allowing a Lodge to be founded, you would be able to gain as a citizen an experience wizard. Smiling softly Elsir shrugged. I believe the partnership would benefit both of our organizations immensely. I would ask you to consider it.

Verik nods slightly in thought at both requests and their cases as Elsir presents them, stifling a yawn at the late hour so as to not show off that he is disinterested. At Elsir's final pitch of mutual gain, he can see Verik takes on something of a wry expression, his eyes examining him intently. "Well now Pathfinder, you certainly came loaded for the siege on this one with all the walls covered, haven't you? By your logic I should be the greatest fool in all these Northlands to squander the opportunity of the Age! Hmmm..."

The Banker smiles ruefully and holds up a hand then. "Forgive me Pathfinder Tel'ran, for it has been a long and eventful day after returning from a long and eventful fortnight. I hail from Absalom, so I have an ingrained bias when dealing with the Pathfinders and their Grand Lodge. That is why Willas was so refreshing in his dealings with me from the outset. Not to say that you are not either, but perhaps we can take a moment to understand one another better? I make it a point to ask questions before giving my assent and support." He directs a hand as a host would to the stairwell. "Please, let us adjourn to the castle's library for some strong tea and talk awhile. Besides, I hardly imagine after today's doings that I shall be getting my mind to sleep peacefully anyway - better to be doing something of substance and value."

Verik leads the way down the winding staircase from the tower adjoining the battlements until they reach a landing and a long hallway; he walks with his hands behind his back, seemingly mulling over the elven wizard's words. They are about halfway down the hall when he turns to speak. "Master Tel'ran, I don't pretend to understand even half of this business about nexuses and possibilities and streams of time and chances that split off from each other and all of that. But just moments ago, you talked about your own...death...in this grim future you and Willas beheld in the flesh. Yet you talk about it as if it is of little import to you. Tell me, do you find the prospects of your death so easy to embrace? Is that something of your people's culture because of the vastness of years, or do you place your faith in a...a power or benefactor that gives you peace of mind to it? Or is it that you believe so strongly in your arcane skills of prescience that you can avert this calamity to your person should you abide here?"

Walking along slowly on his darkwood cane Elsir Tel'ran ran a finger softly over the Mwgani Blood Pearl that glowed faintly with an amber luminescence. tap.. tap.. tap.. Frowning slightly the elf stared off into space as the priest continued to guide the pair towards the castle's library. Quietly, the scholar ruminated on the pointed question posed by the Banker. Do I fear death? It could at last bring me back to Ashandra. But what of the brightness? Do I wish for it? Do I seek it? Sighing, the elf continued to tap his way along the hallway. The question posed by the Banker was no easy one to answer, even to Elsir who in his darkest moments had wished for nothing else but death in the jungle. Frowning again, this time more pensively Elsir spoke in a low voice.

There are factors, factors in all things, even ones death. Elsir said softly. As a priest of law and commerce, you among all others here should understand that every action must be carefully balanced accordingly. Holding out a hand as if to mimic a scale, the elf turned his palm upward. No elf embraces death unless they are either so in tune with the brightness that they believe universally in their rebirth or they have become so forlorn that they have watched those they loved and cared about die from old age. At those words, Elsir stopped and ran his hand up to a silver chain that hung around his neck. I could tell you from my studies that even if the Elsir that I am were to die, I know that along other threads I would still remain, but that does little to comfort. As for faith.. Elsir smiled wanly. I would tell you that while I believe, honor and acknowledge the gods, Yuelral and Nethys in particular, I am hesitant to call upon them. The gods take the oaths of their followers seriously. My people with our nigh-unlimited lifespans, know that a broken oath is capable of following someone long after bones have healed or money’s been spent. My people do our best to honor our obligations and thus, it is easier to avoid making them in the first place then to be placed later in an untenable position.

Moving along the hallway the pair arrive in what must be the castle library. Adorned with wood shelves from local timber, the room, like the nation is new, yet serviceable with a solid foundation of good material. Looking past the priest, the elf's eyes wander momentarily at the tomes before his respectfulness reasserts himself and he instead crossed to a small reading area and table and takes a seat while waiting for the priest to join him. Once he does so, the elf turns back to him. As for the third option, the question of my prescience. Elsir sighs. That as I know too well can be haphazard. Is it possible that I might receive some warning from a future self of events unfolding? I have pondered the idea at length, and my conclusion is that it is a likelihood. A theory is that my transportation into the future may have occurred based on manipulation of this time stream. Indeed, I already know who is supposed to kill me, so in a small way the future has changed. But, if I am being honest, that is not what allowed me to accept my possible death. No, what allowed me to accept it was something.. else.

Holding up his hand, Elsir gestured to himself. My people have a way of sharing memories of strong, personal events. Perhaps one day I will show you it to you..

Elsir was an elven warrior, proud and strong. He was a farmer tending his land. He was a beggar on the streets of Abaslom, He was a king. He was a scholar, fighter, sailor, mason. He was born, lived and died among his people. He killed himself following the death of Ashandra. He died mad from his visions, he died of sickness, accident, age. He was executed for his beliefs by Queen Jemini and multitudes cheered his death. He ran from his sight and drank himself to sleep every night to keep the visions from returning; he lived and died never knowing the truths of the world. Sometimes he never traveled to Abaslom, in others he went but never met Ashandra. Sometimes he never ventured into the Expanse and continued to live the life of an archivist. In others Ashandra plunged a dagger into his eyes to block out his visions and Elsier thanked her as blood and sera ran down his face. He loved other women, married other women. Nicoleta, the fair haired and beautiful follower of Desna whom he had spent years with unsuccessfully exploring the Mwangi Expanse, and other women he had never seen before he lived those lives. A hundred lives. More. So many that he could not count them. And at the end of every live, as he lay dying, as he drew his final breath he knew that he had not followed his true path.

Flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker.

Looking away momentarily, Elsir blinked softly to himself. Sufficed to say, I know that being here, being a part of the history that unfolds in this nation. This is the true path that I must walk. Regardless of what else I do, I know I need to be here. If it leads me to my death, at least I know I did everything in my power to avert the dark future I was witness to. Coughing into his hand, Elsir looked away. And yet now, here I am breaking a promise. I told you that there would be no dire omens or warnings and I have lied to you. Looking down to collect himself, Elsir composed his features before looking back up to the Banker. I believe there was some mention of tea?

Verik does not answer right away as they sit across from each other at the small table. More than mere questions to determine Elsir's own character and quality, Elsir can see that the cleric ponders the answers in response to some internal question or struggle he has. "Tea? Why yes, yes of course."

He stands up and walks over to a small side table with a brass handbell and rings it several times. In response, a sleepy-looking young man in Newhaven livery opens the door and mumbles if he can be of service. Verik makes an order for a pot of tea and honey but no food, instructing the lad to have a care in having it done properly. As the servant leaves, Verik turns back to Elsir.

"I have additional questions of inquiry before I can answer to your second request, Master Tel'ran, but as to your first request my answer is yes...upon two conditions. The first is the same that I made of Willas Gunderson, which is that all discoveries about the cyclops ruins and their possible impact upon these lands shall be shared with the Founders through my office. As part of this same condition, no discovered objects or artifacts shall be removed from the island without my express approval." He shrugs and nods to Elsir, adding, "In light of today's revelations and your stated desire to see Newhaven survive and thrive, the request seems somewhat obvious and moot, but there it is. In any event, I no longer believe I have to worry about hordes of wily Pathfinders carting away ancient relics back to your Grand Lodge from under our noses."

"The second condition is that either myself or one of my Senior Clerks shall go with you on any expeditions, as well as one or more of the Newhaven Wardens, if not Warden Whitestag himself. This has little to do with the prior condition, but rather about your own protection. Those ruins bear a...malevolent aura...and you need those of us that can offer wards and blessings against evil, if not outright consecration of the grounds. Also, I should not wish for anyone to be injured so far from Sanctuary and not have divine healing available. Zander's men know the terrain and the tracks of our enemies well to avoid chance calamity, though I suggest you make the trip by water and avoid the land routes. Here, I shall pull you a recently updated map of the area while we wait for tea."

Verik peruses the shelves for a moment and brings back a scroll to the table, where he unrolls a map of the lands south of Newhaven, showing recent activity of scouted foes and the notes of water depths with the snow's thaws. They talk for a time about the notes and Verik relates to him the presence of the Gozran druid in the swamplands between the lakes, when the door opens and tea finally arrives.

"Ahh, very good young man, and thank you." He produces a single copper bit from his belt pouch and gives it to the lad, who accepts it with less enthusiasm once he sees what it is, but gives thanks and leaves the library. Verik pushes up his sleeves and pours them both tea, setting the small bowl with honey between them, and then takes the first sip from his own cup.

"Mmmm. That is...honestly not very good at all." Verik wrinkles his nose and sighs as he reaches for the honey stick and puts a generous dollop in his own cup. "I swear there is only one woman in our employ that can brew tea properly here - these Brevians think the stronger and darker a drink is the better, and all seemingly have a penchant for the taste of 'bitter' above all other tastes. My apologies Master Tel'ran - when you are amenable to it I shall invite you to my study at the Bank for some proper tea, for I have a good and fresh supply of Taldane Grey from a spice merchant that comes up to Mivon from time to time."

Nikolai adopts a soft stance. The presence of Jemini is always awkward for him. He stares at her back, her cascading hair while she gazes at the stars. When she addresses him, he is attentive, but pensive. He chooses not to pace, as he catches himself doing when he doesn't know how to act around her.

Jemini, we have to be careful about these things. The fey are old. If they guide Choral, then time and history and tension are their games. Maybe Taisper and Zander believe them to be good men. Maybe they are good men. But...me betray you? They are addled. All that I am and ever will be is owed to you. I will die before you are wounded or cast aside by your enemies. You are my only pledge of honor.

He listens to her response, but knows instantly he has said too much. His admission might as well have been a profession of love. He has managed to hide those words from his heart and mind. Must he struggle to keep them from his lips, too?

Her admission that she is barren shocks him. Part of him wants to feel touched, that she would say something so personal to him. Then a part of him becomes angry. Over decades, the path of anger through his mind has become a highway. Other paths, mere roads carved out by recent experience. The blood quickens inside him and he sets his eyes and jaw.

I would be slain for you, telling me this. I would find a way to weep if I thought you told me something you'd never tell another man. But that's not why you're saying it, is it? You listened to their tales. You're thinking about stopping their story. You're assuming I'll betray you on some fool notion that you should bear my children? Have I not born enough insult today?

Now he paces. His long, bare feet slapping the stone as he turns away and moves to a farther wall. You'll never have reason to fear me, Jemini. Nor your town, nor nation, nor any who take up your side. You are my Queen. I will honor your hearth however you see fit to allow it. And I will bring hell to your enemies with just as much vigor.

He sees her bright eyes, still taking in the stars. Looking for portents perhaps. His mood softens again. He cannot be angry. He steps forward, softly this time, but stops short of standing just behind her.

Gods, the weight these things must have on you, Jemini. All you want is peace and a quiet home for your people. And there are threats of war, and trolls across the way, and assassins from Brevoy, and now wild tales of a future where your Right Hand is also your enemy. Truth told, I am glad you told me this thing about your womb. War is no place to rear children. It is a gift, to not have to marry and bear a child in the face of tomorrow's wars. Maybe your goddess will heal you when you've fought your last. Maybe you'll find love and have time for your own happiness.

Here, he is standing beside her. Afraid to look in her eyes, unsure what words might tumble out unbidden. He muses quickly that this moment is the toughest test of his skill with words - the ultimate diplomacy. To confess his desires without saying them, so that she knows them enough to trust, but not enough to be wary.

He gestures with a long, corded arm, out past the window, at the buildings below with their fires and bustling occupants. Out there, my Queen. Those are your children now. They love you and look to you. You protect them, grow them up, and cast them out into the world to make their way. They must obey you, but you must guide them with character. They are the children your goddess has blessed you with. And if you desire more, you can conquer those who oppose them, draw them to your banners, and hide them in your home. They revere you as they should. They love you.

Nikolai lets the statement hang there, seeing her gaze drawn to the cookfires and noise of the night. He steps back, still without turning to look at her, and makes his way to the door. Standing in the portal, he watches her for a second. He can feel that she is waiting for him to conclude. She knows he has left things unsaid.

Nikolai pulls the door close and looks at her another long moment. The pressure in his chest is not unlike the unease before battle begins. He briefly wonders which of his emotions are the vanguard, and which are the eventual deserters.

She lowers her head. He senses she is about to speak, to tell him to finish what he wants to say.

Nikolai enters the hallway, closing the door behind him, and leaves.

A Cup of Tea - 1st of Desnus - Castle Sanctuary Library

Pursing his lips softly, Elsir raised the glass to his lips and took a single tentative sip. Blinking softly, Elsir arched an eyebrow. The tea was bitter, dark and strong with a lingering aftertaste of spice. Smiling softly to himself, Elsir lowered the glass and closed his eyes, waving his hand across the glass, he breathed out slowly before opening his eyes once more and raising the glass. Sipping it slowly, Elsir felt a content smile touch his lips. Mint with just the faint hint of elderberry. Much better.

Lowering the glass, Elsir glanced up at the Banker who sat across from him. A minor bit of magic I learned some years ago. When I first worked as an Archivist in the Grand Lodge it was so rare to find a warm pot of tea between the constant archiving and categorizing of relics that the field agents would bring back. Little did I know how useful it would become later when I myself became a field agent and discovered how quickly food would begin to rot in a jungle. Taking another sip of the tea, Elsir breathed in the aroma before lightly placing the glass back on the table. Briefly he considered gazing into the pots scattering of residue.. but only briefly, it was not his field of expertise for one and besides, there was a difference between actively seeing out omens and instead passively experiencing them. Regardless being too active in seeking out omens and one might find a false omen where there were none to be had. Such was the way of things with those who were too zealous in their quest for the truth. In time one might only see what they wished to see, rather then what they needed to see.

Glancing at the map, Elsir took a final sip of his tea before moving it away from his field of vision. Banker Jarrow, in theory I see no issues with either stipulation, however I do bear one concern, and it lays with your request that any findings I might uncover be shared with the Founders through your office. Tapping a finger slowly on the map that outlines Candlemere Island, Elsir frowned. I'm sure you have heard the phrase that a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing? As I warned about earlier this evening, sometimes knowing the future can lead to it being repeated, diverted or altered with disastrous consequences. While I have no issue with sharing any knowledge from investigation of the relics and sites themselves, something you should know about me is that my visions tend to be strongest when I am at the site of places where important events have either taken place or will take place. Holding a hand up to forestall an argument, Elsir soothed his voice. My visions can be... nebulous and as much metaphorical as they are true. Often times they are only clear once the event has come to pass or is near to coming to pass. So, that is why, while I am willing to share any professional knowledge I might gleam from the exploration of any historical sites on your nations land, I will insist that any visions I uncover remain my own.

Smiling softly, Elsir shrugged. I truly wish I could explain it better, but as Willas unfortunately learned, some things must be experience in person rather then described. Ultimately, my biggest fear would be that any revelations I might reveal would deny the freedom of others to make their own choice without being tainted by doubts or uncertainty. Gazing intently into the Bankers eyes, Elsir locked his vision upon the young man. I hope you can understand what I speak of is deeply personal, and would not normally do so, especially so considering diviners reputations following the death of Aroden, however, I must admit that there are things I have seen about you that lead me to believe you are trustworthy and will bear these truths in silence, like the vaults you are sworn to protect, yes? Breaking the gaze with a nod, Elsir glanced back at the map. I can promise you this however. What I ask, I only do so out of the best of intentions. If I ever feel that by not revealing what I have seen would cause more harm than good, I would be compelled to act. Is that acceptable?

Verik considers the stated exception and its implied warnings intently, his brow furrowed in thought as he tries to work out the implications. He sits back in his chair, absently tapping at his teacup with a finger.

After a moment he nods solemnly. "I agree to your exception of my condition. On the grounds that the...ahh...signs and portents that you glean from your special gifts are only indirectly related to the direct discovery of what physically can be gleaned from the site?" The Banker seems to find trouble codifying his thoughts into words that would be used to solidify a bargain. "Therefore, only information gleaned from your discoveries at Candlemere Isle should be related to me if it can be corroborated with real evidence." He frowns. "That is to not to say that your divinations are not real, but merely that what you must include to me in your findings must be substantiated with...credible...evidence...not that you are not credible of course, but that the bar of credibility must pass what is oftentimes standard for a court to examine evidence and verify...Cogs!"

Verik is clearly irritated at himself, and finally gives up his attempt in a huff, taking a sip of his bitter tea for comfort and wincing as he does so. Composing himself he gives an apologetic smile and tries again. "I agree to your terms of discretion and caution, Master Tel'ran. Agreements and bargains must be defined, qualified and quantified so that there are no unintended holes to malign either party, but in this case I must put the matter upon good judgment and a certain level of trust in your, shall we say, unique abilities? Let us agree to it then upon the "guiding star" of the welfare of Newhaven and its peoples." He makes a flourish with his left hand as if signing a contract in the air between them.

Despite his stated misgivings about the tea, Verik pours himself more of the warm brew into his cup, sipping it with less distaste the more his mind is engaged in conversation with Elsir. "Now then, to the matter of your second request concerning the founding of a Lodge and my sponsorship of it." He leans forward with interest, as if playing a game of kingschess at the table where he has just gleaned an advantage. "As you stated to me earlier, Pathfinder Tel'ran, you would cite that the founding of such a Lodge would be quite the "feather in the cap" of Newhaven, and indeed I do not dispute the obvious gains of knowledge and arcane prowess that you would bring to our fledgling realm. I would welcome it and its benefits to our civil society. But therein lies my question, as you already related to me."

He smiles slyly and holds his hands aloft in question. "Why is it that there are no Lodges in Brevoy to-date? Despite my prejudices to the crudeness of their politics and laws, Brevoy has been relatively stable for over two centuries, and anchor the Northlands in both commerce and civilization relative to its neighbors. In addition, they have a convenient proximity to many lands that are of interest and curiosity." He spreads his hands wide. "Numeria, Iobaria, the proximity of the Worldwound. Yet, NO Lodges exist up here. Why is that? Surely if the Pathfinders did not find the city of New Stetven to their liking, there is Restov to consider, or Silverhall, or even Port Ice."

"Now here is my speculation to that glaring question." Verik holds up one finger. "One. Brevoy has had some great cause to keep you Pathfinders out of their lands, perhaps due to some great slight or impropriety on your part that has caused a rift, or perhaps due to some danger of housing a Lodge, despite the obvious benefits you described." He holds up a second finger. "Or two. Your society finds something unsettling in Brevoy, something dangerous or calamitous enough to avoid taking the risk in founding a Lodge...which is saying something as Pathfinders take risks in their pursuits nearly every day of the year!"

Verik holds his smile and takes another sip of tea, clearly pleased with his logic. "So Pathfinder Tel'ran, what would my patronage to your cause do to us here? What is the risk taken by us in the founding of this Lodge that would set the ire of the Brevians to us, or your Decemvirate, or both?"

Taisper looks up at Borodin, pain and sorrow in his eyes. "You'll see." The cloud passes over his face quickly, and the happy visage returns. "Hey, wanna hear a joke?"

I will move us forward as soon as Verik and Elsir finish up their conversation here.

19 Rova 4710

The watchful gaze of peace settles over Newhaven for more than half a year, offering bounty and blessings upon the land. The situation with Hargulka's nascent kingdom to the south seems stable after the summit of centaurs. Halarouth's spies report that the trolls have a number of human slaves, who feed information about their masters to the ones who they hope can free them; according to his sources, Hargulka had planned to attack the human lands during the summer once he had obtained the alliance with the centaurs, who could stymie Varnhold's support with their raids on the Baron's lands. With the advantage limited, Hargulka seems to be content to raid the occasional trade caravan that comes to close to his territory and holding a grotesque mockery of a court.

Berrin returns from Varnhold with a treaty in hand, formalizing the special relationship between the two nations. Baron Varn also begrudgingly agrees to a peace with the centaurs at Berrin's request. The general promptly begins working on two projects: spending as much time with his wife as he could and raising a standing army. He, Akiros, and Kesten spend the better part of the summer recruiting, training, and equipping able-bodied men from the many immigrants to Newhaven. The First Army of Sanctuary swells to five hundred men, armed with steel swords and armored with leather from the tannery in Sanctuary. The nation lacks much of a manufacturing base, limiting the weapons and armor available to the armies. They also raise an army of one hundred light cavalry, with the stables in Olegsgrav supplying the horses. Kesten Garess takes command of the cavalry units, teaching them the tactical advantage of a massed charge.

The nation continues to grow as settlers move from Brevoy and the River Kingdoms into Newhaven's expanding territory. The first influx of settlers move into the lands between Sanctuary and Olegsgrav. Industry begins in the previously wild lands as mills and mines dot the hills and forests. Nearer to Sanctuary, the settlers take advantage of the extraordinary fertility of the soil between the rivers. Prospectors even start a quarry a few dozen miles to the southeast of Sanctuary, giving the city a good source of stone to bolster the largely timber-based buildings.

With Verik's assent, Elsir and Willas arrange for the creation of the Harborage House on the shores of Tuskwater Lake. With Anya's help, Willas writes the Chronicle of his and Elsir's adventure, submitting it for publication. While it will still take up to a year or more before they learn of its fate, this does not slow them from opening an unofficial Pathfinder Lodge. Elsir and Verik spent many hours writing requests for copies of scholarly works and encyclopedias. Oleg's traders and Verik's contacts in Absalom are able to secure enough of the requested books - along with their personal collections and Willas's - for them to create a passable library in Harborage House.

In Pharast, Akiros disrupts another attempt by the cult of Gyronna to gain a foothold in the city's poor. The prosperity of Newhaven bring a fair number in search of a better life, but not all succeed. A few of them turn in desperation to the cult, which re-emerges with poisoned provisions and dying livestock. Akiros leads the investigation, which locates and shatters the coven. Fortunately, no dopplengangers emerge in the coven, nor actual hags. Akiros orders the leader beheaded and the surviving members of the coven hanged. The matter seems to unsettle the population, but its swift justice and the construction of a new garrison to house the army outside the city offers a salve.

Following the events of the coven's destruction, Akiros and Elspeth take a short trip out of the city without warning. They return a week later, announcing that they are husband and wife. When word reaches Elspeth's father about her elopement, tensions rise between Brevoy and Newhaven. He and Alexey petitions the King to order her back, or to allow him to raise the banners to retrieve her forcibly. With tensions as they are, the king refuses to throw a flame into a cinder box. With the matter seemingly settled, he simply disowns her. This does not seem to bother her in the slightest.

Akiros also helps in the construction of a shrine to Iomedae, moving his personal shrine from inside the castle walls to a separate structure in the city itself. A handful of retired crusaders from the far north staff it, offering prayers to the Inheritor. At the same time, Verik's work on the temple of Abadar comes to fruition; the grand (but fully practical and functional) temple and a town hall flank the Founder's Square outside the castle. Oleg's pet project of a working mint - fueled by the gold from the mine to the south - finishes as well. The precisely-weighted coins bear the somewhat rough images of Jemini and Berrin, the most popular figures among the Founders.

Nikolai finds his way to the moon moot and lays claim to the pack of worgs. Those who challenge his authority quickly learn of his ferocity, even without weapons. He spends a few weeks learning all that he can about the worgs and their society. Truthfully, he is glad to be gone in the wild for a while. He could not shake the feeling that many of the others believe the story of his future betrayal, and that they plot against him. He returns to Sanctuary with a shaggy beard almost a month afterwards, then resumes his position.

Verik and Elsir spend several weeks out on Candlemere Island, along with Willas and Anya. Both of them notice the romance blossoming between the latter two, which began during the many painstaking hours of transcribing his notes. It does not interfere with their duties, though. They trace the etchings for research and excavate around the base of the tower. Verik's consecration seems to have done a good job of minimizing the evil taint, though it can still be detected like an old coat of paint. They return to Sanctuary with several cyclopean and dwarven artifacts, as well as a perfect copy of the runes that will take some time to translate.

I'm not quite sure what Jemini, Borodin, and Zander would do in the period of more than half a year. I'll leave it up to the three of you to determine. Feel free to elaborate and add details for everybody, but I'd like to set the scene before moving to the next adventure. If anyone has anything left for the previous period - such as Elsir's response to Verik's question - just mark it with the correct date.

A Cup of Tea - 1st of Desnus - Castle Sanctuary Library

Smiling softly, Elsir inclined his head he had seen the satisfied smile on the Banker's face and followed his logic to its natural course. As a young man, Elsir had studied sword work and was familiar with the priests verbal attack and like in sword work there were three options: parry, block or retreat. In this case a parry would be the most appropriate. Chuckling, Elsir raised a hand and gestured to the map that the pair shared, gesturing to the borders of the other nations. I see the wisdom in your words Banker Jarrow, but I am afraid in this case you have made assumptions based on details from which you are unaware. As it happens, there are several Lodges in existence already that meet my organizations needs. I was speaking the truth when I said that there were no Lodges within Brevoy, however there are Lodges within Mendev and Numeria. In Mendev there is the Starrise Spire, bequeathed to the Decemvirate by Queen Galfry herself. To be sure there were limitations imposed by the queen during its establishment, similar to the limitations you have placed on me, but it does serve as the primary point of contact for any expedition leading into the Worldwound. As for Numeria, despite the fact that the Black Soverign burned out our Lodge ten years ago and has instituted orders to hang any Pathfinder found attempting to unlock the secretes of the Silver Mountain, a Lodge still exists. Smiling coyly, the elf shrugged.

Gesturing with his hand towards the border of Brevoy the sage continued. The fact is that between the political chaos in Galt and the banditry of the River Kingdoms, Brevoy has been seen as a minor concern. My organization in the past has led expeditions into Brevoy, including one in 4708 into the Valley of Flame, but we met with little success. In truth, the largest mystery for which my associates are interested in lies with the disappearance of House Rogarvia and the isolation of Skywatch a decade ago. Smiling faintly, Elsir glanced knowingly at the Banker. One might think that should you wish to unlock the secrets of House Rogarvia, what better place to start then the very city that its only remaining scion calls a home? There is of course more reasons than that. The attack upon your nation by an army led by dragons, the future that I witnessed where Choral had returned. This alone would be enough to warrant greater focus, but I have also seen a thinness between this world and the primal one in these lands. But that is not the only reason. As you might know, the River Kingdoms were once known as Telvurin, and it was a land that was claimed by my people. There is history here, and secrets. Nodding thoughtfully, Elsir tapped his finger. I truly believe that Newhaven is the best place for a new Lodge.

Frowning to himself, Elsir shrugged his shoulders. When Willas first raised the idea to me, I admitted several concerns, and as one of the founders of this budding nation, I will share them with you. For what its worth, I believe that the Lodge, The Harborage House will be founded in your nation. I have seen it come to pass. That said, there will be difficulties. The by-laws of the Grand Lodge state that any member in good standing can found their own Lodge as long as the founder posses at least one complete volume of the Pathfinder Chronicles. Unfortunately, complete volumes are surprisingly rare. In the weeks and months ahead I plan to make preparations. During this time, the Lodge itself would be purely unofficial. I hope that the document that we have started will be validated by the Decemvirate and as a co-author I will have what I need to be officially recognized. The second issue deals with rank and authority. Grimacing at the unnecessary bureaucracy Elsir looked around towards the tea, wishing he had not hurried through his cup. At present, Willas and I are both considered Field Operatives, the closest Venture-Captain is Istivil Bosk out of Daggermark, who is ultimately responsible for all agents operating within the Stolen Lands. At some point, I will need to speak to him and obtain his blessing for the new Lodge. There is also a possibility with the founding of a new Lodge that I will have to travel to the Grand Lodge and make my formal case to the Decemvirate.

Gazing off into the distance for a moment, Elsir thought back to the first time he had witnessed the nomination of a new Venture-Captain. As the Lodge opens, you can expect to occasionally have a field agent arrive in town. As the operator of the Lodge it will be my responsibility to oversee their actions, but my authority over them will still be limited. It would take a promotion to Venture-Captain to have overall authority and jurisdiction over any expeditions or agents in and around the Greenbelt, Narlmarches, Kamelands as well as Brevoy and possibly Iobaria. Unfortunately, after what happened in the Expanse, I don't have nearly enough influence to be nominated at this time. Waving hand dismissively, Elsir took a deep breath. The nomination itself is lengthy process, where my qualifications would be reviewed by a panel of other Venture Captains that examine my work, offerings and quality to date. If, the board was to rule favorably, then I will would to stand before the Decemvirate to be challenged. The challenge itself usually deals with some difficult or dangerous exploration in a remote region or ruin. Hopefully, it would be based around your Kingdom due to my ongoing work. After a year, I would have to return to the Grand Lodge and present my findings and based on my report, the Decemvirate would decide if I should gain overall authority for the region and the title of Venture Captain.

Crossing has hands over his lap, Elsir reclined slightly in his chair. His blue eyes twinkled with mirth. So.. to answer your question, while I have the right by my organization to found a Lodge, doing so may be considered presumptuous. I believe Willas said that it was "better to ask forgiveness than permission." Laughing softly to himself, Elsir shrugged. I expect that at first I would be rebuked for my initiative, but in the years ahead both you and I will be looked upon with as having shown remarkable wisdom. It is as you humans say.. "A can of worms."

Zander splits his time between Santuary and a log cabin field office he establishes several days to the south.

While in Sanctuary his times is split yet again. Increased traffic on the roads has him and his wardens following up any reports of banditry on the northern roads, particularly between the mines and Olegstown. But also he has agents out to monitor the Brevoy border and report any troop movements. Arikos' new wife brought a dowry of hard feelings, and that shows up most on the border. For the most part, Brevoy seems content to make troop demonstrations, but Zander wants men in place to know when they decide to push it further.

South is where most of Zander's interest lies. Gregary runs this office for him when the Warden is either in the north or on patrol. The southern wardens have one concern, the Trolls. Caravan raids continue and Zander has offered to provide caravans that are willing, a knowledgeable warden as a guide. Having someone familiar with the Troll patterns and methods of raiding has not prevented the raids, but he would like to think some attacks are avoided or better defended as a result.

On a return to Sanctuary on a wet rainy day, he stops his horse as he spots construction along the shore of the Tuckwater. The deary workmen come to a halt when they notice the horn-helmed figure staring at them in the drizzle. He approaches them and asks their business. They reply that the building is to be a Pathfinder House and Library. The men were not quite sure, but they thought the Warden smiled at them from under the Stag Helm.

Zander rode on in to his office, buoyed for once on his return to 'civilization'...a library. Zander had convinced himself over the years that he did not miss out on much that was worthwhile, due to his Father's betrayal. Other Zander was welcome to Him and the balls and the court intrigue....but his Father's library...It pained him a bit now to think back on wondrous smell of leather and parchment and beeswax....and the maps. He thought of them as keys to adventure, each needed to be unrolled and studied to find the secrets to hidden messages and treasure. Over the next few months Zander made regular stops by to check the progress of construction and he would invite Elsir to the tavern to discuss his acquisitions over lunch and a mug of ale. With his contact with numerous caravans, he would inquire about books for Elsir, but more importantly he asked about maps; maps of Brevoy, the Riverlands, even the recent activities in Varnhold were all asked for and either copied or purchased if available.

Borodin will offer to help out where needed.

He begins by volunteering to scout the newly claimed lands of Newhaven. He will spend weeks at a time in the field before reporting back to Sanctuary.

When he returns Borodin helps in the construction of the new garrison house. When not otherwise engaged, he will accompany Zander on some of his patrols to the South to help ferret out the location of the Trolls.

He will insist on exploring Candlemere Island with Verik, Elsir, and Willas with the excuse of the added protection of an additional sword. It’s evident to the others that he is very interested in uncovering ancient knowledge. On their return, he will help with the cataloging of artifacts and transcribing of the runes.

A Cup of Tea - 1st of Desnus - Castle Sanctuary Library

Verik reflects on Elsir's answer with keen interest. As in most things when he is able, he takes the time to mull over the responses in his head to ensure he has no misgivings about them. Elsir can sense that the notion of "asking forgiveness instead of permission" strikes a chord with the relatively young Banker of Newhaven, but surprisingly the reaction is not negative to the rules-loving cleric. As they take a moment to renew their cups with what is left in the teapot, Verik gives his response with a grunting nod of acceptance.

"You have given me a fine education in the nuanced struggles of acceptance in your own Society, Master Tel'ran. I appreciate your candor on the matter. As you may have surmised, I am a lawful and law-abiding man, one who does not suffer the breaking of well-established laws and precedents lightly. Men - most of them anyway - need to be governed and yearn for its comfort of sure-footed stability. Yet, I have come to understand in my time here that the founding of a new civilization...a new venture...requires flexibility and a departure from the norms and standards of the outside."

Verik smirks as he looks at his cup, trying to find words to add to his explanation. "It is perhaps ironic that those of us trained in the ways of Abadar as Clerks, to follow and obey and perform our lawful duties without question of our superiors except under the most egregious of circumstances, must then turn around upon ascendancy to a Bankership and question all, promoting the rules and laws that best work to govern a new land, changing or even throwing out the rest." He smiles at Elsir then in some kinship of understanding, musing at his own trials in the past two years. "Needless to say, my road here was paved most unevenly, and at least up to Dragonshead I was dogged, questioned and criticized at every turn for what I aspired to achieve here. It was...unpleasant to put it mildly. Asking for forgiveness rather than permission indeed!"

He raises his teacup towards Elsir in symbol of acceptance. "Very well Pathfinder Elsir Tel'ran, now of Newhaven, I accept your proposal for this Harborage House and offer my support and patronage to it. As a patron to this enterprise, I have terms and requests, of course!" He smiles in a good-natured fashion.

"My only terms to sponsor your Lodge to the Founder's Council are as follows. That you shall use local Newhaven labor to construct the Lodge, aside from any...ahhh...special construction that is privy only to those of your Society. Furthermore, I request that you contract and utilize the services of my local architect Galen Laviil, subject to your interview of his aptitude and capabilities. I assure you he is quite talented, and would further provide revenues to the Bank, which would be mutually beneficial."

Verik's smile fades then as he hesitates on something briefly, but then presses forward with it. "On the subject of my patronage to your endeavors here, I have a...request of you that I should like for you to undertake if you can. Our elvish Founder, Tandlara Errisen, has been in a comatose state for just over a year now, felled by some dark force in an attempt to save Akiros Ismort and indeed all of Sanctuary from a foul plot by a Gyronna cult. She 'lives' if you can call it that, but barely so. To say that Jhod Kavken and myself have failed in reviving her is hubris in the extreme, for we have no idea on how she is afflicted or what could be the remedy, though we have tried all that we know in the healing arts. I have...well I have sent correspondence down the Sellen to your people in Kyonin, hoping for aid or instruction on what to do, but I have heard nothing in reply." He waves a hand towards Elsir in almost a pleading way. "Would you see what you can do for her, or learn about what afflicts her? If there was some way to restore her to vibrancy, I would be deeply in your debt."

"Finally Master Tel'ran, I should like to learn elvish from you, as I am keen to learn more about your people and their history." Verik smiles once again as he uses his last request to distance himself from the hurt in his heart with Tandlara. He chuckles and taps his head. "Consider it a preliminary evaluation of your talents as a teacher as it were, for if you can get me to learn such complexities it would indeed prove your prowess to me as a most worthy instructor of future apprentices and students!"

A Cup of Tea - 1st of Desnus - Castle Sanctuary Library

Thank you for the tea. Elsir replied as the Banker refilled his cup. Closing his eyes an muttering a quick phrase under his breath he waved his hand over the tea. Eyes twinkling, the elf softly smiled. It is as you say bitter, but bracing. Nodding slowly, Elsir took in the priests words, he had briefly heard about the humans struggle to establish his own bank within the town, so it was unsurprising that the man and elf could find common ground in the intricacy of their organizations. Nodding again this time animatedly the elf listened. Yes, I understand what you mean. There can be a certain amount of inertia among longstanding groups. For years I served as a library and archivist within the Skyreach at the Grand Lodge. Many felt that upon my advancement to a field agent, I was unsuited to such endeavors. It has always been that way among the Society. A rivalry between the Field Agents who activity gather the relics, and the archivists who examine them later in greater detail.

Sipping slowly, Elsir placed his cup back upon the table. As to your terms, I see no issues. I will be happy to meet with your architect, and if it does as well of a job with the nucleus of the Harborage House as he has done with your Bank, I will be quite happy to have him. As to your wish to learn elvish, I would be happy to act as a tutor. I have in the past taught my language new Society aspirants but I warn you it can be quite tricky. There is a music to it, as well as veiled meanings. I can make you passable, yes, fluent... perhaps. Shrugging, Elsir grinned. Some humans never take to it, but with enough determination I can make sure you don't embarrass yourself.

Dipping a finger into the tea, Elsir lightly ran his finger around the rim, creating a low resonance on the glass as he starred off quietly into the distance. As to your friend.. Founder Errisen. Elsir pursed his lips thoughtfully. The elven mind is a complex thing. Far more complex then any of the short lived races. I say this not to be insulting, but when one considered the prospect of near eternal life that elves are accustomed to it perhaps, places things in perspective. Gazing off thoughtfully, Elsir sighed while still accompined by the hum on his finger on the glass. I don't claim to understand what happened to your friend, so I hesitate to make assumptions, but I can say this. If an elf has experienced a lifetime of sorrow and regret it can literally be a maddening prospect. I have seen before elves that have allowed themselves to dwell on past misery and in turn became locked in a spiral of depression and self-doubt. Such things are rare but they are known to happen. As the elf dwells on the past, the depression increases, sometimes to the point where they simply allow themselves to slip into a deep mediation, a form of healing sleep for the mind if you will. Such things often require the intervention of other elves and sometimes even magic to steer them toward happiness again. Shrugging, Elsir sighed. I make no promises, but I will look in on her. The life of each elf is a rare and precious thing. Not that the lives of all beings are not so, but we are far fewer then we once were. I don't know if I can help, but I will look in on her.

Starring off quietly, Elsir stops his fingers in mid hum cutting it off as if trying to forget a memory. Glancing up, he fixes a smile on his face. Well, I believe all is settled. I'll speak to Willas in the morning as well as your man Laviil and begin making plans. Drinking the last of his tea, Elsir set it down on the table and started to rise. A week or two from now, I would like to talk again. I have spoken to several people within the city and they tell me that you are known for your crafting of enchanted items. As it so happens, that is a secondary field of study that I also practice. Perhaps we could, as you say "compare notes". Standing, the elf placed his hand outward in the human fashion of shaking hands. To asking for forgiveness!

Dearest Father, dearest Mother

It seems almost surreal that months have passed without incident or greater disturbance. Perhaps it is just the calm before the storm, but I count these as blessings from Sarenrae.

I am assured that the most recent benefactor of my life is still resting peacefully. I intend to awaken him before a year passes and hope for your assistance.

Sanctuary and Olegsgrav are bustling and growing at a rate that allows each passing week to showcase new constructions and efforts. I am deeply grateful for your assistance in this, without the resources and expertise Newhaven would not be able to grow and prosper on such a short notice.

Verik Jarrow, the highpriest of Abadar, is particularly pleased - whereas most see the developments as a natural consequence of the efforts placed into them, Verik sees the deeper fruition of his faith made manifest; just recently the makeshift place of worship to Abadar has given way to a fullfledged temple, a bank constructed of proper stone and even imported granite. In time, I am sure, the structure - currently bereft of excessive ornamentation - will grow into an architectural jewel.

Sanctuary is still a somewhat haphazard collection of constructions - but the addition of more skilled craftsmen and the acquisition of more varied resources have opened the way for the structured and directed growth of the town. It's still in its infancy, but an original style of architecture is slowly budding. It draws clearly from the traditions of Brevoy and the buildings in Rostland, but has an emphasis on playfulness. In times of fanciful notions, I imagine this is due to the Stolen Lands themselves and the proximity to fey.

It appears Verik and a new addition to the faces in Sanctuary, an elven wizard by the name of Elsir Tel'ran, have come to an accord. Elsir - as a representative of the Pathfinder Society - has had construction started on Harborage House; from what I understand it is currently an inofficial Pathfinder Lodge and subject to some scrutiny by the Pathfinders themselves. I have read reports that some regions suffer the Pathfinders with some distate, claiming them to not be much more than organized parasites that drain the cultural heritage of their host. On the other hand, I have hopes that they can uncover some of the many mysteries that these lands offer; the founders do not have the freedom to do so anymore - at least not predominantly. I just pray that Irori may grant them the wisdom not to unleash ancient terrors that could still lurk in these lands.

It is Elsir, too, who offers insights of some importance. His claims - that have been verified by all magic and insights we have available - are that he visited a grim future in which the worst has come to pass; all we know has fallen to Choral. Fortunately he is quick to explain that this is but a possibility, rather than an inevitability. He was accompanied by two more men, Willas Gunderson and Borodin Loginov. Their testimony isn't complete yet and we cannot ever know certainty in this; but I expect another four grand audits to pass before I can consider the matter settled.

Borodin, of Mivon, can make the remarkable claim that he has lived in that dark future; he escaped to our time and - oddly - Taisper Stozs vouches for him. Perhaps there is more here than meets the eye, as a result I would like to ensure that all leads are well kept.

Enclosed, please enjoy a sample of Bokken's late autumn harvest. It carries uplifting swirls of flavor reminiscent of forest berries, but is deep and complex - I am certain that it will enliven any transaction.

Forever grateful,
Jemini of Lebeda

Jemini, as usual, is keeping her parents up to speed. And as usual she includes encoded information that she would keep from some eyes; most noteworthy is that Choral may be expected after 16 years (in House Lebeda a grand audit of holdings takes place every 4 years, four grand audits thus represent 16 years). Jemini also surreptiously asks her parents to verify the existence of a child called Borodin Loginov in Mivon, and that it is well cared for.

A Thorn in the Crown, Part I: Buildings. Desnus to Rova 4710

"No walls." Oleg sets his jaw firmly and stares down the rest of the Founders at the table.

Verik sighs exasperatedly. "Fine. We table this until the Fall."
************************************************************

It has been a busy summer for Verik Jarrow, Banker and High Cleric of Newhaven, filled with prosperity and promise.

As the spring of 4710 turned to summer, the influx of both trade and people reached new heights that had never been witnessed before by the fledgling nation. Traders and merchants came from Restov and New Stetven to routinely ply their wares at the new markets of Olegsgrav, while trade caravans from Varnhold and even Mivon arrived to bring their goods and buy the plentiful foodstuffs that marked Newhaven as a breadbasket of the region. More than rich farmland to settle in, immigrants arrived from across Brevoy to work the mines, quarries and sawmills that marked the land's untapped resources, eager for new opportunities. Gold was flowing down from the mountain near Olegsgrav. Trade along the Newhaven ‘corridor' started to demonstrate that it could, one day, rival Restov and choke out the Pitaxians entirely. New shops of specialty were called for in both towns, even as the type of locally crafted goods became more varied and of better quality. Productivity and opportunity overcame the sleepy serenity of a remote lake town protected by a stout fortress and its Founders. Fortune seekers and soldiers arrived to make their mark at breaking the long-time stranglehold of monsters and misfortune of the so-called ‘Stolen Lands'. It was a good time to be Banker of Newhaven.

Of course, Verik Jarrow rolled up his sleeves throughout these summer months in Sanctuary to get to work, to capitalize on the growth and the opportunities that represented, both financially and politically. Starting with his brilliant young architect Galen Lavill and the successful addition of the town's piers and dockside warehouses for lake-borne trade (Pier), Verik put the man to the reformation of the open town square between the castle and the pier from Sarenith to Erastus, transforming it to a more elaborate series of record buildings, courtrooms, smaller open meeting/walking spaces with carefully manicured grounds, and most notably a fine new citizen's town hall for the administration of Sanctuary (Town Hall), working diligently in Council to move the more ‘routine' affairs of civil service out of Sanctuary Castle on the grounds of speed and efficiency. Between this project and the collaborative design and construction of the Harborage House (Library), young Galen Lavill was rapidly becoming an established and independently wealthy man ... and highly sought after by several of the town's leading ladies of ‘common' birth.

With gold coming in from both the mountain mine and the Varnhold trade route, as well as both stone and wood of good quality coming in from the Narlmarches, Verik agreed in Desnus with those calling for increasing the size and outfitting of the army, putting in his support for an expansion of the old town city watch house (Barracks) south of the castle into a series of fortified buildings that would train and house the Army of Newhaven properly (Garrison). Indeed, both Berrin and Akiros did not object to the proximity of the city watch and army soldiers being quartered more closely and training on much of the same ground, despite the fact that their missions were markedly different. It was decided by Berrin that the horses, barding and equipment of Newhaven's budding cavalry wing would remain up at Sanctuary Castle's expanded stables, placed under the capable command of Kesten Garess in support of Berrin's larger army of footmen.

The newly expanded garrison compound was the first use of newly quarried Narlmarches stone to supplement the good-quality timber that had always been available, and hearing from both Galen and the stonemasons that used it of its quality and reliability, Verik became invigorated to come up with a design for a new Bank of Abadar in the northeast quarter of the town, the vague dreams of a true temple quarter in his mind now starting to take form. Soon, the designs presented to the Founder's Council in early Erastus included not only the new fortified Bank of Abadar and an elegant Bastion of Iomedae as promised to Akiros, but several other smaller temple buildings and shrines constructed amongst them with adequate room for minor enhancements in accordance to an ‘approved' faith that desired to maintain them. Despite the fact that Verik was vocally doubtful at times of Jemini's notions that the faiths should be represented (mainly on the grounds that they could not even obtain proper clergy of Iomedae or Pharasma to the town, even after months of inquiry), he took his role as High Cleric of Newhaven very seriously, and provided for their inclusion in the new grand design. The capping achievement that came to him was the creation of a graceful meeting hall in the direct center of the grounds between the temples, churches and shrines; a place for the clergy of different faiths to meet and discuss the spiritual welfare of Newhaven and its people. With the influx of funds from several endeavors that came to fruition that summer, ground was broken in late Erastus for the temple quarter.
The combination of Temple and Shrine for 3 of 4 lots allows for as many faiths to be represented as makes sense in the town, with the meeting hall in the ‘center' of the four lots. The Bank of Abadar is by far the largest, with the Bastion of Iomedae smaller in width but taller with its minarets/steeples and more graceful besides. The other buildings are one-story and much smaller by comparison, but permanent structures of wood and stone.

Verik had offered in his designs an olive branch to Jhod Kavken and the Erastil faithful, excitedly showing the plans of an entire set of grounds where both a public park gardens and a private reserve could be established, with a sanctum or shrine devoted to Erastil at its heart. However, in another rift between the priests Jhod turned the plans down – his intentions had already been agreed upon by the collective of Erastil priest-fathers earlier on their holy day of Archerfeast (3rd of Erastus) to push for ‘wilder' grounds on the east side of Sanctuary to be nurtured into a gardens and sanctum, as far away from the Bank of Abadar and the ‘city-borne' faiths of the new quarter. After some discussion it was tentatively agreed on that the formal graveyard of the town be placed where Verik had designed the park, offering the shrine and grounds in reverence to Pharasma. Verik sourly agreed, with final determination by the Founders to be brought up in the Fall.
References to both a Graveyard and a Park at some point in the near future for Sanctuary

To Verik it seemed that the efforts by the laborers, masons and craftsmen on the new buildings and edifices of Sanctuary earlier that summer reached a new level of expertise and exuberance, making the construction of the new temple quarter faster and with better quality than anything experienced in the growth of the town up to that point. The Bank of Abadar and its massive two-story fore and aft dual-wing main building housed the vaulted and stain-glassed worship hall between its wings, set with dual square towers on either side, allowing for two full courtyards and two more two-story mansion-style buildings to mark the outer perimeter complex, the remainder of the courtyard space completely walled in. Duality was a strong theme in Verik's design plans for some reason, the practical aspects of that becoming more apparent to the Founder's Council before the trees started to change color that season. The Bank of Abadar was open for use by late Arodus, its first full devotions held on the first Oathday of Rova. The opening of the elegant yet defensible Bastion of Iomedae was delayed until the second week of Rova was more due to issues of staffing it with followers and worshippers, but Akiros promised the first full service would be taken at the church by the 19th of Rova, sacred to their holy calendar as the "Day of the Inheritor". Verik had little doubt his friend would succeed somehow, and promised him whatever aid he could muster that would not break with the norms of tradition and precedence.

As the month of Rova moved into its third week, Verik had already finalized his lease of the ‘old' Bank to a collective of merchants, shop owners and other men of commerce, for their use as a meeting hall and place to conduct private business. His plans for the Keyhouse however were far different – accepting both her resignation as governess of the Initiates and a contracted agreement as full business partner in the same day, Madam Gerda Ryton took over full day-to-day administration of the Keyhouse for its rejuvenated role as an Abadarian-influenced schoolhouse and orphanage, with the two setting out much of the approved curriculum for at least partial operation before the first snows of winter.
References to an Orphanage at some point in the future

Part II to follow ...

A Thorn in the Crown, Part II: Politics. Desnus to Rova 4710

"...but First Founder, we must continue the look at this flawed and overbearing so-called "law" of oppression! Are you no longer concerned of the incident with those of Desna not even a fortnight ago?"

Verik snaps his fingers, and two Clerks come forward with a stack of books and scrolls of parchment, setting them down upon the table to either side of him. He adjusts the sleeves on his formal robes and looks to Jemini, a look of confidence and concentration upon his face, his eyes hard and clearly prepared for what he is about to do next. "I bring to motion a proposal of the willful misconduct of Jhod Kavken, Magister of Newhaven, with the funds provided to him by Newhaven to fulfill the duties of his office. I have evidence here to his misconduct and incompetence, nay the deliberate mistreatment of the many children and families of Sanctuary and those not of his communal flocks. Founders of the Council, I motion for the hearing of these charges and the evidence supplied, with a vote taken afterwards to the removal of Patriarch Kavken from the office of Magister, effective immediately..."

****************************************
It has been a busy summer for Verik Jarrow, Banker and High Cleric of Newhaven, filled mostly with successes and triumphs, but also plenty of tension and misgivings for the Council.

In Desnus, Verik made good on his efforts to attract and retain a small group of minor bureaucrats and magistrates to adjudicate the civil permits, disputes and most petty criminal matters under Newhaven’s laws, moving matters of daily decision-making away from the Founders Council’s direct governance, gaining critical votes to finance it via Newhaven coffers from both Oleg and Svetlana in return for his support of an eventual mayor or city council for Sanctuary – something Verik personally believed in anyway as it provided a counter to his concerns of single rule, though Kesten Garess was firmly against it. Verik gained the key vote from Berrin after convincing him of time he’d gain not dealing with “petty” matters of endless papers and farmers arguing over endless land disputes. Some on the council – notably Jhod – accused Verik of supporting and assisting Oleg in his “bribe” for his moneylending mint in Olegsgrav, in return for the votes on his “city courts” and increased bureaucracy. Verik snidely countered that more lands were being added to the east and south for Jhod’s own “bureau” of pigs, sheep and goats, plenty for both he and his Erastil flock to busy themselves with keeping track of.

In that same month Verik pushed forward an alteration to the Founder’s Charter, adding to Jemini’s existing titles of ‘Lady Marshal’ and ‘First Founder’ since the battle of Dragonshead, clarifying the position could be held into perpetuity as long as a majority of Founders agreed, should a vote of confidence ever be called. But it also specified her title as bearing no royal governance of Newhaven, and bore no hereditary powers to be bequeathed. The vote was close as it required a supermajority of Founders, but passed by a thin margin. A subsequent amendment of her title ‘Wielder of the Ironborn Crown’ to remove the word “Crown” for “Circlet” was struck down. It was perhaps no coincidence that the proposals were brought to the Founders while Nikolai was off at the moot, even though he held no formal title or vote on the Council at the time.

After the expedition returned from Candlemere Isle in Sareinth, Verik put himself to the task of gaining an additional source of reliable income for the mounting costs of building the new Bank of Abadar. His answer was to seize upon a growing issue of a lack of manpower for merchant and caravan protection to bolster his coffers. In this arena Verik stepped in, putting in his own reserves to equip and train up a cadre of Abadarian guards that could be hired for protection duties, screening the applicants thoroughly with his divine powers as a mandatory prerequisite to their employment. Starting with a score of men and subjecting them to a training regimen of rigorous intensity, he found a boon in hiring Borodin Loginov for the training, as he was a man that Tasiper trusted; Verik found that Borodin and his former life’s hardships suited him easily to bringing the training up to speed and correcting the Banker’s deficiencies in such matters of soldiery.

The “Vaultmen” as they became to be commonly known were forty-five strong by late Arodus, well equipped with both crossbow and halberd, capable of fighting bandits or pursuing thieves, earning top coin from those that could afford them. They were clearly marked by their chain shirts and white tabards with a stout golden Bank displayed with the stag antlers of Newhaven behind it. Verik had a crude but serviceable temporary barracks structure built on open grounds where he could quarter and shelter those men who didn’t have other alternatives. They were highly successful guards and became sought after by merchants and wealthier citizens alike for their reputation of quality and professionalism.
Concept here is that eventually a “Small” army of ranged soldiers can be housed in the Temple under Verik’s command, as the Temple building qualifies as a Watchtower for housing a small force.

Jhod did not like Verik’s ‘solution’ of the Vaultmen one bit, accusing him of raising a private army to enforce matters of Abadarian policy and values – or at least being capable of such. Zander was often critical of Verik for similar concerns, but admitted his wardens could not be spared to routine caravan assignments on the main road. The Banker cited precedents from standing River Kingdom traditions, so the mandate could not be rescinded easily by the Council, provided the Vaultmen did not exercise formal powers or arrest or violence beyond defense of life or property. From a matter of practicality and their own resources, neither Zander nor Berrin could argue with it, and even Akiros had to admit dealing with the Vaultmen was far better than dealing with a motley collection of hired men of unknown or unreliable quality by the citizenry. Still neither Berrin nor Akiros appreciated the occasional cases when one of their more seasoned men would leave their ranks and join the Vaultmen for roughly double the salary gained – though many could not pass the Banker’s strict screening standards, and overall it did not amount to any great quantity. Nevertheless, it caused friction.

It was not the only law from the Banker to do so. Verik’s open (and regulated) support of the Outlaw and Oathbreaker Bounty Proclamation back in 4709 had always been distasteful to some on the Council – some privately insinuated Verik had done it merely to provide a legal justification for his cousin Taisper to ‘hunt’ lawbreakers openly. But in Sarenith 4710 he proposed enhanced funding for bounties by the realm, citing the increased incidents of outlaws and fugitives filtering in to the outlying mines and camps. It was noted by ‘sheer coincidence’ a month later in Erastus that Verik had put to contract the services of one Kieregan Mieran, a proclaimed devotee of Abadar and noted bounty hunter from the River Kingdoms; Kieregan and his small troop were given patronage by Verik with their intention to operate from Sanctuary earlier that month, and had scored a series of living bounty collections with cold (some would say ruthless) efficiency. As the arguments heated up over accusations of collusion by the Banker, he cited in his books no ‘direct’ gains or profits by the activities, but rather a repayment of an advanced loan to Kieregan Mieran for equipment, lodging and services rendered to him. Counter-accusations by Verik of giving Nikolai Rogarvia an “excuse” to go hunt down men were levied against Jemini herself, coinciding with a troubled three-session vote for Nikolai to be made Grand Enforcer of the Realm. In the end the laws and payment of bounty hunting stood as-is, but Verik was defeated by Jemini in his efforts to block Nikolai’s rise to a formal position of authority along similar lines of precedence.

Truly the issue that brought the Council to near-open hostility occurred the following month in early Arodus, stemming from yet another contentious law Verik had enacted in 4708-9, this one concerning the Declaration, Registration and Taxation of Formally Approved Practicing Faiths in Newhaven Proclamation. Introduced in limited fashion in late 4708 and expanded in Gozran 4709 after the dire incident of Malgorzata and the Cult of Gyronna; the lone stated exception was to the priests of Erastil who were specifically exempted from the law, vaguely advising they should report to the duly recognized Patriarch of Erastil within Newhaven’s borders. Verik himself openly admitted he had used the letter of this law prior to Dragonshead to expel any “sycophants” of either Archbanker Vinodragov of Brevoy or Banker Demesceau of Restov that might have sought to operate secretly in Newhaven and undermine Verik’s then-fledgling authority as Banker; from his perspective as High Cleric he would treat his own faith the same as any other. After Malgorzata, it was imperative that any ‘agents of the divine’ whom would seek to ignore (Verik would say ‘flout’) the laws of Newhaven should be detained and expelled from its borders if they did not declare themselves openly and be permitted.

While the law was cited as a legal basis for arrest of the revived Cult of Gyronna in the high summer of 4710, the evidence of their violence and malevolent misdeeds gave Akiros far greater charges to bring final judgment down upon their heads. Otherwise, the religion registration law was little more than a deterrent; to most it seemed the problem was in enticing representation of the beneficial faiths in Newhaven, not in keeping undesirable clerics out.

Thus when it was learned in the first week of Arodus that a group of traveling Desnus priests and followers had been encamped outside Sanctuary for well over a week, holding services (Verik would later say ‘orgies’ but this was never substantiated) and offering blessings for various favors gained, the High Cleric of Newhaven sent Thomas Quiss and Dannil LeVane to fetch their leaders to register themselves and pay the permit tax along with a levied fine for their delay, their open worship to halt immediately until formal approval was granted. Thomas and Dannil returned with painful (though harmless) boils on their faces and their skins tinged blue, being run off by the Desnans for their insolence. Verik was training with Borodin and some of the Vaultmen when word came back about the altercation, his anger over their treatment spurring him to hard action. Despite protests from Borodin, Verik called to arms the balance of the Vaultmen, Thomas and the Twins and went off to the Desnan encampment to arrest the perpetrators; a fight erupted as Verik subdued the lead Desnus priest while the Abadarian faithful either captured or drove off the other followers. Though no one on either side was seriously injured in the exchange beyond cuts and bruises, rumors spread of greater bloodshed being covered up by the Banker in hasty channeling; a Desnan prelate was magically blinded for over a day until Jhod restored his sight.

The outrage by Jhod Kavken and select others in the next Council was thunderous, calling for Verik to be disbanded as High Cleric and even arrested himself for arresting the Desnans. Indeed, Akiros Ismort was quite put out with Verik over the breach of protocol, of not even being notified. Jhod raised the case of “Verik’s private army” and its use as an unjust and abusive force against the people. Borodin was summoned to the Council to give testimony of his objections to Verik when the ruckus had first started. It was all Jemini could do to keep the Council in some semblance of order and calm down the flared tempers. Verik, however, had been prepared and ready for all of it, skilled as he was in matters of prosecution, defense and judgment. He cited his authority in the Charter as a Founder to arrest those that violated the law, which he proved the Desnans had done. By extension, he stated his Clerks had been “deputized” to make arrest on the way to the encampment, which while uncommon he also legally had power to do as a Founder. As for the Vaultmen, he proclaimed they were there to protect Verik and his Clerks, and acted in “defense” of them once the altercation turned physical – they were not used as city watch or soldiers in the legally defined capacity. For an hour the High Cleric cited laws, regulations and testimony to refute the charges levied against him. It was impressive. The motion to disband Verik as High Cleric was not carried. Jhod, being distrusting of the law was clearly not skilled in bringing motions to curtail it, his abrupt proposal to end the Religious Declaration Proclamation falling far short. In the end, Jemini cited the breach in protocol to alert the Prefect-Marshal or his watch was worthy of a civil penalty and fine to be paid, as well as a public admonishment from the Lady Marshal issued on record. Verik agreed to both, and also apologized to Akiros directly and earnestly.

The venom Verik and Jhod displayed to each other, however, was far from being over by the next Council session. Jemini had anticipated Jhod would bring up motions (yet again) to bring down the controversial laws he despised, and deftly ensured he would not receive a voiced second to his motions to carry the proposals to full vote. What she had not counted on was Verik’s counterattack. In an audacious move backed with entire tomes of bookkeeping, manifests and cited references, Verik motioned for Jhod to be removed as Magister of the Founder’s Council. He found a second to his motion in Oleg, and leveled charges that the Magister had been distributing Newhaven funds for education of the populace directly to his Erastil elders in the countryside, to be used only in the training and promotion of Erastilian dogma in the rural areas. Verik questioned the lack of even a single school or library in Sanctuary or Olegsgrav, the new library of the Harborage House providing more to the city’s youth than the Magister had ever constructed. The Banker had in writing a series of affirmations (by well-to-do Sanctuary families) of biased preference to the farmsteads and thorp settlements, and built a mountain of accusation against Jhod, one sealed parchment at a time. He concluded that Jhod was biased in his own faith, incompetent as a Magister and should be replaced by a more reliable educator of children from the city. Jhod and Verik nearly went to blows then and there at the table, the priest-father of Erastil clearly pushed back on his heels and ill-equipped to defend his programs and disbursements, blustering and clearly wroth with hurt and outrage, though he passionately pleaded to the Council that he had never tried to use his office to improperly sway children and bully families to Old Deadeye’s teachings.

Eventually, this too was skillfully curtailed by Jemini, as her mastery in politics and negotiation was just too potent for Verik to overcome, despite his damning evidence displayed. The vote was called for Jhod’s ouster as Magister and Founder but fell well short of majority. Defeated but not dismayed, Verik cited a little known law on the books of his right-of-office as High Cleric to withdraw his own funding away from the Magister’s office; he would deploy it directly to the founding of a new school (and eventually orphanage) for the city’s poorest under his direct supervision. He proclaimed that Madam Gerda Ryton would head the new school and set its curriculum. The troubled Council of mid-Arodus ended.

For Verik however, the motion had a clear victory against his onetime friend and Stagfall battle comrade; there were no additional accusations against Verik in the last two Founder’s Council sessions in late Arodus and early Rova. With the new Bank of Abadar completed and his plans for the repurposing of the Keyhouse in play, Verik Jarrow had little time to reflect upon the damage he had caused to old friendships and alliances. After all, the lessons drawn from the “future incident” in Desnus had convinced him that he could no longer afford to be complacent. He would bring to fruition the vision of civilization as he saw it, and woe be to any who threatened to stand in the way of righteous progress as the land became tamed under his guidance.

Okay this one is a bit of a doozy - feel free to post your own takes if what I've inferred is different from your actions, or PM me if you want to run conversations with something based on this.

A Thorn in the Crown, Part III: Relationships. Desnus to Rova 4710

It has been a busy summer for Verik Jarrow, Banker and High Cleric of Newhaven, beset with change to those he consider his friends, foes and followers.

Despite some of their tangles in the Founder’s Council during the Summer, Verik’s working relationship with Jemini had become more measured and routine; he still trusted her judgment in protecting Newhaven against the dangers of the realm, and knew her presence as a Lebedan probably kept the Surtovan affair from escalating into all-out conflict. He made no secrets to her anymore on his desire to curtail her powers to be seen either as a monarch or a vassal of the Brevian Houses, told her so privately in fact, but no longer held that against her personally. Only Jemini’s support of Nikolai to a Founder’s position of Grand Enforcer made Verik truly angry with her; after a week of frosty stares and icy responses (which had little if any impact upon Jemini) he finally relented, warning only in a personal letter to her that it was not enough to have brought him back for prophecy but that she must actively see to his understanding as a ‘servant’ of the people of Newhaven. He also informed her (she would say petulantly so) that he’d dweomercraft nothing else for her if she was just going to ‘give them away to the first vagabond she meets in the wild’ – even so his designs for a silver-and-mithril circlet were sketched out in his private study along with a list of precious reagents to seal the auras of it.

Likewise, the working relationship with Kesten Garess was a mixed one, their interactions largely based on the political affairs of the day or week. Kesten and Verik vehemently disagreed with each other when it came to the “Brevian problem” as Verik put it, for the High Cleric clearly detested any assumptions of influence or ties to the Brevian houses as an extension of their holdings (and their power games). Verik had held those influences against Kesten for some time but never spoke about them, yet now it came loose in a torrent during the months of Desnus and Sarenith when Verik worked to curtail Jemini’s powers as First Founder of Newhaven. At one point Jemini had to call the two off from each other in arguments before the Council, Verik calling him a “willing wooden puppet dancing on Brevian strings” which Kesten saw as slighting his honor and his loyalty to Newhaven. Only Jemini had the influence of both men to keep matters from spiraling out of control. Still, in other issues the two men were often aligned; Verik supported Kesten wholeheartedly in his efforts to secure a full trade route agreement with Mivon, and both warning the Pitaxians would rear their heads again with threats and spies (or worse) as Newhaven continued to prosper. Verik’s support of Kesten’s command of the Newhaven cavalry wing was unquestioned, and he could be counted on as a political ally in viewing greater defensive goals as for the greater good.

Life with Berrin went on as it ever did, the General’s concerns over being judged by Verik for remaining in Sanctuary with duties to wife and army a non-factor – truly Verik heard his apologies twice more after returning from Varnhold, and surmised that his ‘guilt’ over staying behind on an expedition was akin to what Verik felt in the months after Stagfall. For the most part they got along swimmingly, and the Banker’s “toughening up” over the past year had earned them more common ground. Berrin still liked to recall humiliating stories of Verik’s first struggles in the Narlmarches when they had feasts, while Verik would counter with Berrin’s mishaps in 4708 as Steward of Newhaven. In truth, their banter had turned into just another comfortable chapter of their ongoing friendship. Any real trouble they had between them came in the form of Aylene during the month of Sarenith, when Verik returned from the Candlemere Isle expedition.

In the style of Borodin, Berrin and some of the other officers of the army, Verik had decided to grow out a groomed mustache and goatee; though against Abadarian norms he thought it added to his stature and lent him an air of formidability. Borodin Loginov seemed to approve of it, and so Verik sported his new look back home to Sanctuary. That is, until Aylene saw him at their return feast in the Founder’s Hall. Normally one for choice, biting words and crass humor, Verik was prepared for anything Aylene was going to quip at him. But instead of sparring verbally she just laughed. Uncontrollably so. For three days this went on whenever she saw him; Aylene simply could not stop laughing, giggling, guffawing or snorting in her cup.

On the fourth straight day of it Verik left Council in a furious huff during the midday break and shaved it all off; in retaliation a letter written in his own hand that very night informed the Lady Myrdal that he would no longer provide her the “opportunity of flight” down by the lake. Aylene stopped laughing then, but that next week Sanctuary Castle was beset by the most foul-tempered displays from her that had been witnessed by either Berrin…or their servants…or any servants…or really anyone that had the misfortune to entreat with her in any capacity. Berrin was put into a position to defend his wife’s honor and stop talking to his longtime friend directly. For his part Verik would hear nothing but a full apology from her, which he smugly knew she would never give. This went on for eight more days, until Berrin came to the Banker’s study late one night in secrecy and appealed to his friend’s wisdom, pleaded with him in fact for the sake of all of their friendships – and the fact that Berrin was clearly miserable – for the stubborn Banker to relent and renew her privileges.

Akiros and Verik went about their duties as they often had before, the friendship of the two men steeped in a strong mutual respect for law, duty and the execution of hard work without shirking responsibility or taking shortcuts. Contrary to how the gossip of the town was going, Verik openly gave his support to the elopement of Akiros and Elsbeth, for he believed the severed connection with the Surtovans (particularly her dangerous and foul brother) was another step to relieve Newhaven of unhealthy Brevian ties. He offered to proclaim their marriage as valid in the records of Abadar, but Akiros stated it was not necessary. Verik also offered to pronounce ‘final Judgment’ with the golden bolt of Abadar upon the “witches” of Gyronna that Akiros took down that summer if it would relieve his burden, but again Akiros declined. The only real rift between the men was in Arodus when Verik dealt with the Desnans outside the town, but Verik tried to make amends in heartfelt fashion – he did not want the politics and venom that had erupted between Abadar and Erastil to spill over to Iomedae. To that end Verik offered whatever assistance he could muster to ensure Akiros would have services of Iomedae coming from the new church site before their holy ‘Day of the Inheritor’ in mid-Rova.

As for Jhod Kavken, Patriarch of Erastil, the once-friendship between the two men had dissipated into full dislike and distrust, with followers of Erastil and Abadar also taking sides. Verik had long felt the older man had continually broken the boundaries of respect and trust by mixing his ‘misguided’ views of Abadar with Verik personally, despite the fact that the men had fought together at Stagfall and at one point had taught the Banker in the ways of the healing arts and birthing children. He had grown tired of Jhod’s constant efforts in Council to suggest every effort of Verik’s was flawed, rife with corruption or an endangerment to either the rural way of life, or the so-called River Freedoms, or both. Sadly, Verik was unlike most of his brethren in Brevoy and had admired aspects of the ways of Old Deadeye, and along with other “approved” faiths felt they all should have a seat at the grand table of spirituality. He thought whenever he was being reasonable or accommodating Jhod would simply take his concessions and give none in return. The hardening of Verik’s heart occurred with the rejection of the High Cleric’s plans for an Erastilian park in the new temple quarter. After that, there would be no chance of reason when incidents occurred in the later summer months.

Still, there was one place where Banker and Patriarch could agree, and seemed to still be able to set aside their differences – the plight of Tandlara Errisen. Whatever either or both men could do for her, they would work together to do without question. Sadly, there was nothing they knew of to do, other than wait and pray to their respective gods for her.

Verik never liked that Zander was closer to Jhod at times than he was to him. Politically, that wasn’t a shock to the Banker given Zander’s stated views on bureaucracy and government. Personally, Verik felt Zander and he should still have a connection from their early days exploring the Stolen Lands together. Verik’s first dweomercrafting was for him after all, and their bond with Tandlara was keenly felt. It was just that Zander, never being much for talking, was never prone to talk with Verik very much over anything. Verik felt he should do something about it, but didn’t know what, and in the day-to-day affairs of Sanctuary that thought was never followed upon. He hoped they could strike a different chord the next time they ventured forth from the city; certainly the ‘business’ of traveling, making camp and fighting for each other’s lives tended to distill down idle talk to what truly mattered out there.

As for Borodin, the self-reliant former soldier of his cousin (in a very different life) was an enigma to Verik. Simply put, Taisper trusted him, so Verik would do so as well. He found the man to be quite capable when he accompanied them on the trip to Candlemere, and despite differences in outlook they were able to hold pleasant conversation; Verik realized the man was more than a mere expert with an Aldori blade, but had intellect and arcane prowess as well. Watching the man practice his routines though one morning on Candlemere nearly gave Verik a fright, for Borodin’s martial style reminded him of someone that still haunted his nightmares – and dark dreams were all too common out on the Isle, even with a daily divine ward to protect them. He tried to put that aside as just an irrational coincidence.

Upon returning home, Verik found an opportunity to retain Borodin’s services for the training of his Vaultmen in lieu of Taipser’s notable absences. Not only was he capable, but Verik delighted in helping the man find employment to give him means to settle into a new life in Sanctuary. A referred bounty scored Borodin enough coin to secure his own lodgings independently, to which Verik gave his support to the landowner.

This went on exceedingly well until the incident with the Desnans. Borodin was vocally critical of Verik and his use of the Vaultmen, and abruptly quit his employ over the perceived improprieties. While soured to the man over the break, Verik tried hard not to equate Borodin with Jhod in his mind, just as he worked hard not to do with Jhod and Zander.

Working with Elsir turned out to be much more pleasant, for the elf’s views on knowledge and concern over Newhaven’s future cemented a clear liking of him by Verik from their first meeting the night of the incident. Verik respected Elsir’s reticence to reveal too much information that could be harmful to either himself or the people - as Elsir always took the time to try and explain why it was so. His patronage of Elsir and Willas in building the Harborage House went even better than Verik had estimated it would, both in financial terms and in its impact to town affairs. Understanding the situation the pair of Pathfinders placed themselves in, Verik would assist in whatever was needed for Elsir to see his vision of the Lodge become a reality, overcoming those on the outside that may doubt them as a personal mission to him.

When it became apparent to Verik that Elsir’s knowledge of dweomercrafting magical auras into objects could be meshed into collaborative works (just as Verik and Tandlara had once done), he could only be described as ecstatic over it. Their late-night discussions over dweomers and reagents to harness magical auras and patterns of magic was a source of great comfort for Verik, a respite to look forward to from the politics of Council or the headaches in guiding the building of the city. On several occasions a comfortable pattern would emerge of Verik and Elsir in involved discussion, with Willas nearby half-listening while he scribed some event or catalogued books in the library – at times with Anya Amitel invited to join him.

Verik found the budding romantic match of Anya and Willas to be well-suited for both, approving of Willas Gunderson’s peaceable and gentle nature; Verik privately discussed it with Elsir to see if he agreed. He confided to Elsir that, should it come to a contract of marriage desired by the pair, Verik would personally see to Anya’s dowry.

Other interactions with his Abadarians I’ll leave off for now, other than to state that things would move along with them and with new arrivals. When I can I’ll update the NPC’s in Verik’s profile and revise the section on how the new Bank looks.

Harborage House, Evening - 19th Rova 4710

Verik sits comfortably in a plush chair that he often likes to take when visiting, the small low serving table between he and Elsir set with a serving platter for tea. In a bowl to the side are freshly baked pastries coated lightly with butter and honey, a gift to Elsir from the bakers' avenue that Verik purchased before making his way here. He munches on a pastry and sips his tea absently as he looks out the window to the position of the sun low near the shore of the lake. "I should say they should be back before long Elsir, so perhaps we should refrain from getting those notes out on the convergence of construct for a circlet containing all three aspects as we think is possible. Hmmm...Anya will keep him punctual this time I think."

A slight rustling of a book's pages being turned attracts Verik's attention over to a collection of bookshelves in a hallway nearby. Borodin Loginov stands there reading something by the shelf, though Verik cannot make out what it is. The man was invited by Verik as they met by chance near the Castle on his way here, knowing that Borodin had a fascination of books and the arcane. It was a chance perhaps to ease some of the tension between them from last month, but Borodin went straight to the shelves as soon as he stepped in the door and greeted Elsir.

Verik sighed and turned his attention back to Elsir, trying to clear his mind and enjoy himself with whatever time they had left before Anya and Willas returned, as Verik took it upon himself to walk her back to the Bank anytime she went out to dinner with Willas Gunderson.

Borodin yawns while turning another page of his book and looks up briefly. ”You know, if Willas brings her home after dark, you could always lock him up for inappropriate behavior towards the ward of a Founder…” He closes the book with a snap to punctuate the jibe at his former employer.

Verik shoots him a dirty look, expecting another argument of the likes he had previously in the day with Jhod. Borodin walks forward into the light with as serious a look he can muster. But before Verik can come back with a retort, Borodin breaks into a large grin and starts to chuckle. He sets the book down and continues into a belly laugh until he actually has to sit down from weakness.

After a moment his mirth subsides enough for him to get another word out. ”If you could have seen the look on your face…ha ha ha hah!” He pours himself some tea and sits in a couch across from Verik. ”You were saying my good banker?”

"I was saying nothing Master Loginov, because there was nothing I heard just now that dignified a response." Verik finishes his last words with an irritable flourish, pointedly picking up a parchment he had been writing notes on earlier with some bit of dweomercrafting theory that he and Elsir had been discussing earlier. The Banker intently reviews it as if to show he's both ignoring Borodin as well as shielding himself from the swordsman's mirth.

Apparently, both efforts fail for Verik after just five or six normal spans of breath. "You know at times Master Loginov I truly wonder just how my cousin put up with your antics in your Beforetime," he inquires snappily, "for you must have been a constant source of trouble and ill-gotten mischief to him. Seems to me you could provide first-hand knowledge of what it means to be "locked up for inappropriate behavior" and such, if not other kinds of penance and punishments."

"There was nothing that dignified a response..blah blah blah" Borodin says in mock tones. "You know Verik, you can be exactly like Taisper sometimes.........a stick in the mud."

Borodin leans over and snatches the parchment out of Verik's hands. "I'm just trying to bring some levity at our mutual expense you Rules Lawyer. And to answer your question, we suffered each other because we had to. Did we see eye to eye on things? No. Did I have a choice? No. But could I make my own decisions in the field based on the Cog's plan? Yes indeed. And I did it often. Of course he had a fit the first time I deviated from his orders. But in the long run we both understood that our different paradigms on life is what made us so successful against the Dragon Lord.”

He finishes his tea and pours another cup, refreshing Verik’s as well. ”Taisper had the overall strategy covered, but left the tactics to me. Let’s just say the enemy was always kept on their toes."

He leans back with his hands behind his head waiting for Verik to say something. When he doesn't, Borodin leans forward again. "So are we going to let the whole Desnans thing rest or are you going to walk around and pretend to be outraged for the rest of our lives?”

Although he had for some time now been ardent in his desire and determination to have a proper place of worship created for Iomedae, Akiros had never put any thought at all into how that place should be built, or what it should look like. Having virtually no skill or knowledge whatsoever in such areas, the Oracle of Iomedae was happy to allow Verik and his architect handle all matters of design, subject, of course, to Akiros' final approval.

The former Ronan was more than pleased with the final product. In particular he was quite impressed and in approval of the 'central meeting hall' in the center of the Temple District. As well as the elegant, yet practical and very defensible nature of the new Iomedaen edifice. Akiros was determined that the first full service would be taken at the church by the 19th of Rova, sacred to their holy calendar as the "Day of the Inheritor". If necessary, and only if necessary, he would lead the ceremonies himself.

While he was most glad and appreciative of all the significant, and essential, support and friendship Verik had lent him of the past few years, Akiros had been quite wroth with Verik over the Desnan incident involving the "Vualtmen". For, while he did indeed approve of their existence as guards for caravans and wealthy citizens and such, their involvement in the arrest went specifically against what their stated purpose was, and had been vehemently argued by Verik.
Namely, that their mandate could not, and should not, be rescinded by the Council, provided the Vaultmen did not exercise formal powers or arrest or violence beyond defense of life or property.

Despite the Banker's skill at legal and political wrangling, it was clear to all, and especially important to the Marshal, Akiros, that any and all notions Verik might have that his "private army" could be used to enforce his will be quashed immediately and permanently. With that in mind, while he eventually forgave his friend, at the same time Akiros makes it crystal clear to Verik that should any similar such incident happen again the two of them would be at serious odds.

Surviving through the many and exhausting council sessions, mainly by force of will and tightly gritted teeth, Akiros heartily approves Jemini's notion to promote the cleric of Erastil to a position of continued importance, yet one with duties that shift his focus, and his presence, to somewhere outside of Sanctuary. For it was clear to all that the deterioration of the relationship between the Banker and the Magistar was only going to get worse.

When not in the performance of his many duties, Akiros spends the majority of his time with his new bride. The two are clearly madly, and deeply, in love. Yet their natures do not lend to wild or flagrant displays of public affection or passion. Their relationship is one very different to that of Berrin and his wild woman of a wife, in other words. Sometime around the beginning of the summer, Akiros begins walking around with a strange and somewhat bemused, yet clearly happy, smile on his face. Whenever asked about it though, he merely shakes his head, refocuses, and continues on with whatever business is at hand, refusing to answer. However, by the end of the summer, the bump under Elspeth's gown makes it obvious to all what he had been smiling about. Now that the dangerous first few months have passed, it is an openly overjoyed Akiros who welcomes all congratulations sent towards the happily expecting parents. As an aside, a not a sizeable amount of gold passes hands amongst the guardsmen who had wagered on the reason for their commander's odd behaviour.

The troll hunt with Nikolai had gone well, and had given the two men time to discuss much, and renew and solidify their friendship. They both were aware, and accepted, that they were now equals, and any former notion of inequality from their past was firmly left in that past, where it belonged. Their friendship was not an easy one though, for such things were still virtually impossible for the former Stag Lord. Yet besides Jemini, there was no one in Newhaven closer to the heir or Rogarvia, nor who knew him better.

Akiros also spent time getting to know Borodin better. The two had much in common, despite their very different pasts. They would often spar together, in front of the Guardsmen. While they both were masters of the Aldori fighting style, their lives since then had varied their fighting styles enough that they could still learn from, and admire, what the other had to offer. When Borodin quit his job as trainer for Verik, Akiros immediately moved to snap him up as trainer for his guardsmen. However, Berrin had also had a similar notion and a friendly bickering match ensued over who would, and should, win the magus' services. In the end, a compromise was reached, with Borodin having the option to take on a formal position as a specialist trainer for all of Newhaven. It was left up to Verik, as usual, to come up with the appropriate sounding fancy title, should Borodin accept.

Happier, and busier, than he has ever been in his life, it is a wiser, more grounded, and all around stronger Akiros that emerges into the month of Rova and he feels well prepared for whatever may come next.

Verik accepts the refresh of his tea cup but reaches out twice to snatch back the parchment from Borodin's hand. After failing to grab it twice and realizing Borodin has far quicker reflexes than he does, he gives up with an even grumpier look upon his face.

"Phah! If by "let the matter rest" you actually mean apologize to you and grovel to you that I was wholly at fault and you had none why...why you can just keep your little quips and barbs going!" Verik takes on a mock expression of discovery upon his face then. "Gracious me, was it not you who walked out on our contract with training my Vaultmen? For surely I did not dismiss you over any matter or disagreement!" He snaps his fingers and points at Borodin. "Oh that's right, you now train Akiros and Berrin's men at the garrison compounds now, do you not? Opportunity and coin coming to your coffers, but I think Master Borodin that you mostly must love the fact that the General and Prefect-Marshal are both salivating over your employments to them."

He looks to Elsir for support. "You see? I am beset upon from all these men who look to rewrite their revisionist history of my character. Do you not have a tonic to give to Master Borodin here that will dispel his self-ascribed delusions of egotistical righteousness?"

Elsir doesn't respond to Verik's japing question. He seems lost in thought, a common occurance over the last few months. His gray parrot flies from the shelves to his shoulder, gaining a glare from Verik who disapproves of the thought of such a dirty bird around the precious books. Squawk lets loose a shriek directly in his ear, causing the wizard to shake to his senses. "Sorry. You were saying? I must apologize, for my mind is in another place. I ponder its meaning, for it seemed sharper and more firm than any vision I have seen since my sojourn into the future from which we plucked Borodin. I will describe my vision to you." His voice grows low as he intones the contents of the vision to Verik and Borodin. "A pulsing lonely eye floats in brackish, still water. Two burned wooden figurines float next to it, while an unburned figurine floats away in a current. Two withered hands hold three more figurines in one and four in another. The figurines tumble into the eye, causing all to catch flame and boil the water."

He pauses to let the vision's details sink into his audience. "The figurines were crude and carved from wood, but I recognized them. Jemini, myself, and Zander in one hand, with Nikolai, Akiros, and both of you in the other. This vision was clearer than most. I believe it to be of utmost importance for us."

Borodin is about to retort when Elsir speaks about his vision. Clearly he is unsettled by the news. He works his jaw like he is about to formulate a question, then stops. He starts and stops again but finally manages to blurt out "So, um, who were the first three figurines?"

Verik looks at Borodin with clear concern, any signs of their quibbling now clearly gone. He stands up and starts to pace in the hallway between the sitting room and the opening to the library rooms, his mouth silently working through the words of Elsir's vision.

Knowledge: Religion - Take 10 +5 = 15

"The eye...in brackish...figurines burnt but one floats away...burned means death I suppose...withered hands...does it matter who is in one or the other hand? Why the groupings?" He looks at Borodin and offers a thought. "Well, the eye could signify the Cult of Gyronna, which certainly could make sense here. Her symbol is a single bloodshot eye I believe. In which case the burnt figurines could have been Corwin for one...but we did not lose two of us...Tandlara...would she be a figurine burned or one floating away? I don't know, don't know..."

Wringing his hands, he turns abruptly and says, "Mind you that Elsir's vision said it pulsed...it may not be about Gyronna at all, even though it makes much sense, it could make too much sense and our speculation throws us down the wrong path. Hmmm...notice that Berrin was not named in the vision, nor my cousin Taisper. What does that signify?"

Elsir shakes his head. "I do not know. I could not recognize them. All looked male, and similar at that. As for the absence of Taisper or Berrin, such a thing is difficult to tell. Many of my visions require some thinking and allegorical insight to determine their meaning."

Verik nods to Elsir. "Just as you said the first time we met. The interpretation of these visions are not only difficult, but fraught with false assumptions without any evidence for guidance."

He paces some more, trying to determine the best course of action for them to take. "Borodin, Elsir...I'm not very good at these puzzles, but I do think that we should not hold this to ourselves. We should call an informal meeting at the castle as soon as possible - if not the full Founders Council, then at least with those that were specifically seen in the vision."

Frowning softly, Elsir inclines his head. Perhaps a meeting is for the best, but we should be careful. The symbol of an eye could mean many things. In Osirion the eye is a symbol of protection and life, while in the River Kingdoms is it most often associated with Gyronna. I have in the past seen several visions that included eyes, though I am unsure if they are linked somehow. One item I would mention is something that has also concerned me.

Tapping the table softly, Elsir gazed out the window of the study in the Harborage house towards the lake. In two separate visions I have had, I have seen abandoned towns, the color red is featured in both and carrion birds, usually ravens or crows are present in both. What troubles me, is something you mentioned in our previous conversation, about the founders trip to meet the centaurs. You said that you encountered a village that had been abandoned, as if in mid meal? Shrugging Elsir picked up one of the sweet cakes and took a single bite. I don't think the vision of abandoned cities and villages are linked to the visions concerning the eye. I think they represent two separate events, but I think both events are in the process of growing in probability.

A loud knock interrupts the meeting between Verik, Elsir, and Borodin. The Banker seems annoyed. "Why would Willas feel the need to knock? Surely he has not suddenly discovered decorum!" He walks to the door and opens it suddenly. It is not the Pathfinder on the other side, but rather a cloaked city guard. Verik's face sours, as it is Giergios Dumanov, the Captain of the Guards under Akiros; they came to words during the incident with the Vaultmen, and Verik still held a grudge over the man's stinging words.

"Banker, I have an urgent request for you to come to the Founder's Hall. Actually, both Pathfinder Tel'ran and Loginov here are similarly requested. The rest of the Founders have already been notified." Verik and the others gather themselves quickly. The fact that the Captain of the Guard was delivering simple messages of summoning demonstrated that it was not a simple situation.

They hurry from Harborage House to Sanctuary Castle. Dozens of cottages, shops, and minor manufacturers dot the roadway that leads south out of the city towards the farms and fisheries in that direction. Wagons worth of goods grind up the dirt road. Verik reflects to himself that the pathways dug by the natural selection of the merchants will serve as an excellent guide when they select to pave the roadway with brick, stone, or possibly even wood like New Stetven. Gone is the sleepy hamlet of a year ago or the wild woods of two years ago, replaced by a fast-moving frontier town and a hub of trade.

As they enter Castle Sanctuary, the guards on duty salute Verik. As a custom, it is fairly new for the guards to salute the official Founders. It was not Berrin's idea, but he endorsed it when the guardsmen approached him with it. Not all the Founders were completely sold on the idea, but its morale-raising merits seem to outweigh it.

The rest of the Founders are already sitting at their customary spots. Verik takes his seat at the table while Borodin and Elsir sit in the benches of the gallery. Oleg and Svetlana Leveton are absent, as they reside a few days to the north and can't make emergency meetings. Jemini, Berrin, Jhod, Kesten, Akiros, Hal, and Zander sit at the table, while Taisper sits quietly in the back row of the gallery. Jhod glares at Verik, clearly still strained.

With the last of their number here, Jemini stands. "We have received some dire news. Zander?" The quiet Warden looks up and gestures to the last remaining figure in the gallery.

A young man stands up, almost unrecognizable to most of them. They last saw him during his trial, when he stood and begged for forgiveness for his actions with the Red Stag. Along with two others of the gang, he was sentenced to decades of service as a Warden. Demitir was a shy young man when he left, but he has returned a hardened warrior. Nearly two years in the wilderness has caused him to grow a man's beard, and his skinny, boyish frame turned into taut bulk. "I was assigned with Yanna and Travess to scout farther than the rest of the Wardens. We set out to the west, into the Narlmarches. A few weeks ago, we discovered an ancient place deep in the swamp, several days' ride in the marsh. It was an elven keep, as best we could tell, hundreds if not thousands of years old. We decided to scout it out to add it to our report..." He pauses, the weight of his story beginning to bear down on his shoulders. "We found naught but death inside. A hag calls the place home. She captured us, tortured us for weeks. Yanna died first, and Travess a few days after that, to horrific tortures only a twisted mind could devise. I found a weapon of elven make in our dungeon and escaped with my life. I was tracked for days by dark forces, harried every moment until I escaped those dark swamps. But that is not the worst of it..." He opens his ragged, bloody shirt to show an unhealed, infected wound. As Verik stands to offer healing, Demitir holds up a hand. "It will not be of any use. I fear that it is a permanent wound. I was tended to by one of your acolytes to no avail. It seems that the Dancing Lady is destined to have the last laugh. But my predicament is of less importance; at least a dozen captives linger in her dungeons, subject to her cruelty unless they are rescued. They were not Wardens, and possibly not even citizens of Newhaven. They were brought to her, like cattle, a few days before I escaped. But I know what horrors and pain await them."

He coughs and nearly collapses on the stone floor. "I will return alone if I must. It was a desperate decision to leave there without them, a decision that I regret immensely. They deserved better than what I left them to." He leans heavily on the back of the bench, exhausted but determined.

Nikolai doesn't wait for anyone before he begins speaking. "You'll catch water and a few minutes' rest, but you won't return alone. I'll fetch the horses." He turns and locks eyes with Jemini, then Akiros. "Meet me at the stables when you've done all you can for him."

Nikolai rushes to his quarters, picking up speed with every step.

Meditations on the Future, Part l: Building Foundations. Desnus to Rova 4710

By the pen of Elsir Tel'ran, Field Agent, Pathfinder Society, Kingdom of Newhaven, Harborage House.

To Kargath Thunderstrike, Field Agent, Pathfinder Society, Thru the Absalom Grand Lodge.

My friend,

It's been three years since we have spoken. Forgive my silence until now but writing to you brings up memories of the trackless Expanse and the loss of our friends. When I saw you last I promised that I would contact you if I had news to report. While definitive information regarding the final moments of our expedition remain vague, I can tell you that I have made several promising leads to date. Since my arrival in the newly founded nation of Newhaven, several important events have revealed themselves. These events I have since reported in a set of reports validated by truth-telling spells and sent off to the Decemvirate for submission to the next volume of the Chronicles.

I write to you today because I think that you might find value in this place that I am starting to call my home. Two weeks ago I wrote to the Venture Captain of the Dryblade House, informing him of my intent to open a new Lodge in Newhaven. Kargath, I understand now what you saw behind the vault door. I have seen it myself in my vision. That is why I'm telling you that Newhaven is important. I won't go into details on paper but rest assured that we have work to do. Come to Newhaven, Willas Gunderson and I could use another trusted set of hands. If all that I have written is not enough to tempt you, I have sent along a cask of locally brewed ale, made by an eccentric member of your race named Bokken. I'm told that it is quite exceptional. I hope our paths will cross again.

Your Friend, Elsir
29th of Arodus, 4710
**********************************************************************

Sighing, Elsir placed his pen back in the inkwell and stretched. Behind him he could hear the pounding of hammers and the banter of laborers as they continued the expansion of the Harborage House. True to his word, Banker Jarrow had put Elsir in touch with his architect, Galen Lavill in the first week of Desnus. But the building of the Lodge was still an ongoing and lengthy process. While the intial plans had quickly been written up in the first two weeks of Desnus and the subsquent foundation and small pier had gone up quickly, the exterior had taken longer in large part due to Elsir's insistence that the bottom floor be made from riverstone rather than local wood and that the remaing trees themselves been integrated into the overall building of the structure rather then clearcutting the lot bordering the lake. By the middle of Sarenith the exterior of the foyer, library and study had been completed and by the the end of Erastus the interior elements had been finished. By the middle of Arodus the large stone circular room that would eventually become a tower had been finished and Elsir had been able to finally move in, much to what Elsir suspected Willas gratefulness.

Still, work was ongoing on the Lodge and Elsir believed it may be another year before the Lodge would, at least in his mind be complete, not accounting for delays, modifications or a complete copy of at least one full Pathfinder Chronicle. Of such modifications was an event that had occurred several weeks prior when Elsir had been approached by Founder Jemini Lebeda with a curious request. As part of the building of the House, The founder had suggested a lecture hall be incorporated into the eventual design. While not part of the original plan, Elsir had meditated the request. To Elsir's best knowledge, Newhaven contained no center of learning and it was generally accepted that the library would be allowed for open patronage. Cementing the elf's decision was the fact that he had eventually planned to take on an apprentice and much of the cost of the Lodge would be subsidised by the Kingdom in exchange for Elsir acting as a professor of sorts for the gifted youths of the fledgling city. While it was not, in truth the best situation as Elsir personally believed that the Lodge should be a separate entity from the Kingdom, he did have to acknowledge that he had a responsibility to foster a positive relationship between his organization and the kingdom as whole. Also, Elsir noted one evening, the chance to take part in the shaping of the future minds of the most talented of Newhavens citizens was too powerful opportunity to overlook and it would also in turn benefit the Society immensely, should a few of the most adapt students be quietly groomed towards apprenticeship as either pathfinders, students of the arcane, or both.

As such, Elsir had approved the planned addition of a lecture hall in the second week of Arodus. Currently the lecture hall that was planned for the right side of the Lodge was under construction and would have a large bank of windows that would overlook the Tuskwater. Lavill had told the wizard that he anticipated that the two story structure would be completed in time for Evoking Day on the 18th of Neth. Funds approving, The tower would be capped at two stories, with an eventual expansion to four and a basement the following year after spring had arrived.

While the building of the Harborage House itself was on track, frustration arose for Elsir over three fronts. Namly the gathering of a proper collection of books for the Lodge, the dealings with his organization and finally the several requests already to begin teaching some of the young minds of Newhaven. On the first matter, the construction of the House was itself was a relatively easy endeavor thanks to the ratified plan by the city council to subsidize the initial cost of the House in exchange for it also serving as a seat of learning in the city. Unfortunately the gathering of books and supplies and the hiring of a small staff to work the Harborage House had proved more difficult. Spending much of Desnus and Sarenith writing letters to his contacts all through the inner sea, Elsir had requested copies of tomes and books for the library. Of particular assistance in this front had been Warden Whitestag who had seemed to take a keen interest in the building of the Harborage House. His Wardens had kept fascinating maps of the surrounding area and several weeks had been dedicated to creating a map room to carefully store the charts inside of the Harborage House. While the maps of the region had been covered, the gathering of a large volume of scholarly books required had however become a frustrating ordeal. Using much of his own personal library shipped from Absalom, along with the vast store from Willas's own, they were able to cobble together a functional if somewhat incomplete collection. In early Sarenith, Elsir had written to his friend and fellow archivist, Galphus Tervin at the Great Lodge requesting several articles on transmutation, fey lore and the growth and decline of Iobaria. However in the third week of Erastus he had heard back from the archivist that any loans were currently on hold to him. While the letter had been cordial there had been an underlying message that Elsir had overstepped his bounds and that the matter had already reached the Decemvirate. The letter itself had finished with the statement that "All future requests from a field agent should be directed towards the Venture Captain who maintains the nearest lodge."

Turning to a second route, Elsir wrote several requests to the nearby elven outpost of Hymbria. Notoriously reclusive even to other elves, the nation of Hymbria was known within the River Kingdoms as experts on the Fey and Wild Magic. While establishing contact among the nation had proved initially difficult, thankfully however, Elsir had known an herbalist who had studied in Absalom for a time that retained a residence there by the name of Shandrah El'var. Elsir had explained in an opening discourse of missives that he was opening a new library in the Kingdom of Newhaven and was seeking to expand his knowledge of Fey phenomena. While having little to barter with, the wizard did offer to send along copies of the rubbings found on the nearby Candlemere Island in trade. As an afterthought, Elsir also made mention of the city founder Tandlara Errisen who had been stricken by a malady that had thus far been unsuccessfully identified and requested any books that might relate to the subject.

On the second front, was his fellow pathfinders. In the weeks following the decision between Willas and Elsir to open their own lodge, Elsir had penned a series of letters. The first and most important set had been sent to the Decemvirate along with the truth verified submission to the upcoming Chronicles, explaining the situation at hand. In his letter Elsir laid out his plan for opening a Lodge on the grounds that Dryblade House was too far removed from the events at hand within the budding nation. Between the attack on the nation already by a group of Red Dragons and the overtones of a possible return of Choral the Conqueror combined with the return of the last scion of House Rogarvia, Elsir made what he felt was several strong points in favor of the creation of a Lodge to cover the region of Stolen Lands, Mivon, Pitax, Brevoy and Iobaria. The second letter, was one that was sent to Venture-Captain Istivil Bosk of Daggermark's Dryblade House. As the nominal head of all Field Agents operating out of the River Kingdoms, Elsir felt it appropriate to inform Captain Bosk of his intention to open a new Lodge. Unfortunately however, the reply letter was less than enthusiastic. Stating that he "would not tolerate an upstart archivist impinging on events I am already be aware of" Bosk warned Elsir in no uncertain terms that he would "view another Lodge being established within my domain as falling under his control". Complicating the issue was that by technicality, Bosk was right. As a Venture-Captain, Bosk had overall authority over all Field Agents within the River Kingdoms. How that directly related to an Agent who established his own Lodge however would remain to be seen and it was something that Elsir spent several long nights contemplating over the three months spent building the Harborage House. In a final series of letters, Elsir sent missives to some of his long time friends and companions whom he had either worked with or tutored in his long years. While many in the Society felt that his assignment to the Expanse combined with the loss of much of his team had validated their beliefs, there were still a few outsiders among the Society who held strong ties to the elf. People such as Willas and a few others. Writing to his friend Kargath Thunderstrike a fellow companion and only other survivor of the failed expedition to the Drowning Stones complex, Elsir offered the dwarf a place within the Lodge next to himself and Willas. Additional letters were also placed sent to Lyton Jens, a human who originally hailed from Riddleport and who had spent two years learning some of the secrets of the cult of Razmir on behalf of the Society, only to be disgraced in 4709 AY when it was discovered that he had a collaborated with several members of the failed "Shadow Lodge".

The final complication arose from the library and subsequent requests to act as a instructor. With the main library complete in Erastus, Elsir using his contact though Banker Jarrow posted a notice that he was seeking someone to serve as a librarian. While the elf would have prefered someone from the Grand Lodge to assist him as an archivist, that avenue had been closed to him. Instead in the first week of Arodus, Elsir had been contacted by a young woman who originally hailed from Gronzi Forest within the borders of Rostland. A first generation immigrant who parents arrived in Rostland following their exile from the fabled land of Minkai after the death of Minkai’s last emperor, Sune had a quick mind and was eager to learn more. Willing to work as a de facto librarian for the Harborage House Sune asked only for room, board and a small stipend a month as well as an continuing education once Elsir decide to taken on students following the completion of the planned Lecture Hall. Unfortunately, while the request was reasonable, the three outlying cottages planned for for eventual use for visiting pathfinders were not yet complete and so Elsir instead agreed to cover her lodging at a local inn from his own rapidly shrinking pool of gold. Librarian found, it was in the final weeks leading up to Rova that Elsir found himself with fourteen hand written letters as well as supporting references from the children of well off merchants and disgraced nobles that had begun to call Newhaven their home requesting tutelage and further education.

And so it was on the 19th Rova, amid a swirl of society politics, expanding responsibility and future demands that Elsir found himself sitting in his study next to Verik Jarrow and Borodin Loginov when the gathered group was called to an emergency meeting of the founders at Sanctuary Castle.