Uruuna vanishes into thin air, and dread washes over Dramm at being suddenly exposed. He quickly blasted Catanka by dashing a small figure, hoping to fatigue the monster, and broke into a run toward Uruuna. No one was dead yet, that was a good sign.
The magic continued to gather inside Dramm. His control was slipping with the stress and he could not vent the buildup.
Catanka only seems mildly injured by Dramm's spell. The demon is immune to its fatiguing effects!
Missed! They're quick buggers! Sel yells out. Go after it!
He throws the next vial at the demon again.
"Alright, monsters, we'll play it your way," Uruuna shouts as she holsters her sword and shield and draws her bow instead. If the demon is just going to teleport her around the battlefield, better to shoot it from afar then waste time rushing back into melee range.
Her first arrow sails past Catanka, but she shifts her aim and drives her second arrow into the pyramid demon. She swiftly fires another arrow into its quivering bulk, and rancid fat pulses out of its bleeding sores to splatter the ground. The geometrical demon shudders unstably, badly damaged.
Joy lobs a vial of holy water at the pyramid demon, hoping to finish it off!
Luckily, I can see through the shadows!
Selgaer and Joy rain down holy water upon the demons, searing both of their corrupted forms. It proves to much for the pyramid demon, which shudders and explodes! The detonation sends pus, flesh, and rancid meat outward to batter those nearby!
"ARGH!", yells Joy as she dangerously turns upon the broom to escape the worst of the chunks while still keeping herself and Selgaer on board.
Dramm grunts in frustration as Catanka shrugs off the secondary effects of the spell.
"It's immune to fatigue and exhaustion! He calls above the din of battle. He delivers another conservative Ruin spell, not wanting to be within striking distance of the creature.
The magic finally breaks free and explodes outwards. Dramm puts his arm out in front of him, detonating the explosion between himself and Catanka.
Dramm turns to run when the Pyramid demon explodes. Dramm is thrown off his feet and shards of bone pierce his side. His head buzzes and impact leaves him dazed. He pulls himself to his feet, ears still ringing, and scrambles away. He quickly carves out a new barrier.
"What the hell was that?!" He coughs, gripping his side painfully. Debris and bone shards are still embedded there.
Although Tabog knew perfectly well that this was well within the demon's ability, the sudden appearance of a flailing, grotesque monster would startle even the most stoic of heroes. His feline reflexes took over and the graceful assassin bounded away from the demon nearly as fast as it had appeared.
He continues his jaunt for a ways, turns and looses another arrow and the monster.
Uruuna fires twice more, but neither one hits this time!
Dramm's spell deals another light wound to Catanka. Snarling, the demon teleports forward and takes a bite out of the sorcerer!
Tabog's shot misses the demon. Dramm reaches out to heal some of Joy's wounds.
Uruuna moves closer to Catanka and fires two arrows. One strikes the demon, badly wounding it!
The demon simply emerged from the air and Dramm was too slow to react. His force field took the brunt of the bite, but Dramm could still feel blood from the wound. He also felt certain that another would remove the arm completely. Dramm quickly carves out a hateful reprisal.
Dramm reaches forward to press a sizzling hand to Catanka's chest, but falters in fear.
Selgaer had to drop off the broom to avoid the explosion, but fortunately he wasn't that far off the ground when it happened. He landed on his hooves and looked towards where the demon b#~*% went.
Get out of here, Joy! Fly up enough to be away from the explosions!
Letting go of his bow, he pulls the spear out and starts running towards the demon. Then he grabs his last vial of holy water. He rushes towards the demon and throws the holy water at her, following through with a one handed jab of his spear.
As soon as he attacks, he bounces in front of Dramm, hoping to block any potential counter attack or explosion from hitting the man.
Dramm's secondary explosion scours Catanka's leathery hide, but the demon avoids his attempt to evaporate it. It hisses and bites the sorcerer again, leaving him badly wounded.
That's when Selgaer comes rushing in. He lobs the holy water at the demon's face, causing it to hiss and recoil in pain! Then the faun leaps into the air and drives his spear deep into its chest! Catanka lets out a gurgling shriek as its body sizzles and melts in on itself, leaving behind a bubbling puddle of acid that Selgaer hops away from!
The inqusitors and soldiers make short work of the smaller demons, then let out a cheer. You have proven victorious!
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"Ha ha! Yes, we did it!" Uruuna cheers. The giant halfling rushes over to Imedren and tosses her husband up in the air to celebrate. She catches him and pulls him into a kiss, a rather impressive display of role reversal.
Joy barely has time to start to turn her broom upwards and reach for another vial when the fearsome Catanka falls!
Instead, she does a number of victory circles above the battlefield, cheering and whooping!
She then descends to the ground, to join with her friends to celebrate!
"Yes! YES! They're dead!" Dramm lets out a cheer, followed by a small wince at the pain from the bite. He lowers the arm and nods to Selgaer. "Thank you. This could have been much worse."
Dramm quickly casts and recovers from the battle and then moves on to treat the wounded.
Dramm looks somewhat embarrassed as he explodes during the festivities, but everyone is overjoyed to have succeeded with minimal casualties.
Yes! Haha! Selgaer yells out with Dramm, his face beaming with a smile that they accomplished what others said couldn't be done. I knew we could do it! See, Dramm? With a little effort we can make the world a better place. Come on, I think we're in need of a good celebration. He looks down at his fine clothing covered in demon gore, And maybe a change of clothes. If only Thomas was here.
The feeling of relief as the demon Catanka fell and the others had been dealt with was replaced by elation as Uruuna picked Imedren up and tossed him into the air and caught him.
"I get why you like being picked up now. I think I might have to start working on my muscles a little more now."
Curious, Dramm looks around the clearing for Craven before heading up to inspect the remnants of the Thorn.
Dramm is able to gather several shards of the Black Thorn for further study.
Reinhold and Craven perform a rite to consecrate the clearing, purging it of any lingering demonic taint. At last, the people of Verge can rest easily knowing that the evil in the Old Wood is gone for good. The militia soldiers will remain behind as a garrison to augment Delores's deputies and ensure the safety of the citizens.
You say your farewells to the people of the town. Delores offers hearty handshakes to each of you, and Anise kisses Tabog on the cheek, asking him not to be a stranger. Merry gives Joy a big hug, the girl preparing to venture off with Craven and Reinhold to learn the ways of the Old Faith. Then you journey back to Crossings, returning to the comforts of home.
The trials of the last few weeks have honed your abilities to a fine point. The time has come to specialize your training and choose a path to master. You know that you will need all the edges you can muster to face even greater challenges still to come.
You gained a random interesting thing. (Rerolled a previously rolled result.)
You earned a bit. You gained the getting by lifestyle.
You earned a bit. You gained the getting by lifestyle.
You learned a dangerous secret. Work with the GM to determine what it is.
You won some money gambling. Gain 1d6 gc.
You traveled extensively. Add one language to the list of languages you can speak.
Joy says to Merry:
"That's wonderful news, Merry! If you're in Crossings for any length of time, feel free to let me know."
Tabog was glad the fight was over so quickly with few complications. He smiled and nodded at the fair woman but didn't say anything as they left for home. It hadn't been the most unpleasant mission, but Tabog was always happy to get back to a normal routine.
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"You got an invitation."
Belgaer was behind his new desk, settling in to Crossings. The faun had has been in Crossings not more than a few weeks. It was a joyous occasion, seeing him arrive. Once Thomas got back to inform Sel of his twin brother's arrival, Sel rode out to the elven doorway to meet him. Naturally it wasn't just Bel who had come, but the entire household. All the adopted children, the servants, the governesses - Sel was beyond joy to see them all again. Bel had sent some folks in advance to acquire a manor large enough to room everyone - it wasn't the most luxurious, but it worked. And it could be improved upon.
"An invitation to what? Is the council finally seeing your value?" Sel responded, a lopsided smile on his face.
"This isn't a laughing matter, Sel. This is serious. This is the Morning Lord. He's… he's an elf, Sel. You know how dangerous they are. But we can not refuse."
Sel turned serious as well, "What does he want."
"Heeeee wants nothing, Bel said, drawing out the 'e' on he to emphasize the word. "It's his son, Nightfall. Nightfall wants to speak with you. But you need to be prepared, Sel. Mentally prepared. You say the wrong thing around these people and you could be imprisoned for life. Or worse. Remember what they did last time?"
"Yes Bel. For f!#&s sake, I'm the one who got us out of there."
"See? That right there. You can't speak like that in the Elven Court. They'd have you castrated. God, why'd they invite you? It should have been me," Bel said.
"I don't know, maybe I'm better looking?" Sel retorted.
Bel sighed. It was always a point of contention, for Sel looked much more human that his brother. Bel spent more time in the hidden realm than Sel had, and as a consequence his transformation to get went much further. "Enough with the jokes, Sel. This is serious."
"Ok, ok. I will. Here, let me see that." Sel took the invitation from his brother and looked over it himself. It was full of fancy curved writing with elaborate loops and golden ink on paper made of leaves. He hadn't a clue what it said - he couldn't read - but it looked like what an invitation to a Lord's house might look like.
"Sel, just go there and do what they ask of you. Then come back here. I - we don't want to lose you. Especially not now that we've settled in a new home."
A few days later, Sel was waiting to see this elf prince. He had his finest clothing on; Thomas had seen to that. But it was not at a locale he had expected. Yes, it was in a forest, and yes it very beautiful and enchanting. But it was not in the Hidden Realm. It was in the mortal world.
"I'm glad you could meet me," a voice called out.
Sel turned, expecting to see some pompous ass regaled in finery and surrounded by lackeys, but when the elven prince called out, he was dressed plainly and was alone except for one companion. His clothing was finely cut and tailored to him - Sel had been around Thomas enough to recognize it, but it was clothing meant for practicality.
The woman next to him had her bow drawn and aimed at Selgaer.
"It's alright, Pistil, we just startled him."
It was then that Sel realize his knife was drawn and in his hand. He sheathed it.
"I am Nightfall, and this is my companion, Pistil. And I would like to recruit you."
Sel was taken aback by the statement, but quickly gathered his tongue, "Me? But I'm just a faun. Why would you want a faun?"
The prince answered, "Even in Alfheim we've heard of you, Selgaer. The faun who escaped, killed their captors - and rightfully so, I might add - rescued the children. The faun who rose to prominence in Crossings and fought back demons."
"You've been talking to my brother," Sel said.
"Well, yes. Admittedly he is where we got most of this information. But still, I verified it. You're capable, Sel. And we could use that. There are threats greater than you may realize, and it's not just to Crossings or Alfheim - it's to all of existence as we know it. I've been crossing the border for years to help fight off undead in the Desolation and to hold the chaos at Bay. I know you resonate with that, Selgaer."
Sel didn't let his mental guard down, "Why should I help you? An elf - someone who steals babies from humans and destroys lives?"
"We're not all like that, Selgaer," the Prince responded.
"Yes. Yes you are. I'm a damned Faun! Your people ripped my brother and I from our parents arms! You raised us to be killers and hunters of men, to repeat the process again and steal more children! And you couldn't we'll leave us alone! You had to follow me. You followed me and my brother, sent your hobgoblin armies, slaughtered an entire city just to get back at us! Who does that?! Who thinks it's ok?" Sel was practically yelling by the time he was done.
Anger flashed in Pistil's eyes, and her hand was taught on her bow string, but the Prince stayed her.
"You are right to be angry, Selgaer," the Prince said with a calming voice. "You are right not to trust us. Which is why I had us meet here instead of in the formal court. I am not here to right the wrongs my people have done to you and yours. I am here to stave off disaster. I am here to recruit you. There are two upcoming dangers you need to he away of. The first and most pressing is Toothsome Maera.
"Toothsome Maera is a hag - not just an old woman, but a literal hag with all the power that comes with it. She has learned of a prophecy predicting the end of world - of all things drowning in blood, consumed by fire, and utterly annihilated by the Shadow in the Void. She dragged a tormented soul up from Hell for questioning, the hag learned that the source of this dread foretelling was the city of Crossings. Your city, Selgaer. She has it in her head that the only way to stop it is to erase Crossings from existence. She's on her way right now to attack your city.
"This is the first danger, and the most pressing at the moment.
"The second is the Long Mother."
Sel held his breath at the second. He had heard that name before. Who had he heard it from? Dramm. That was it.
The prince caught the moment of hesitation and used it to his advantage, "I see you've heard of her. Good. It will make this easier."
And then Pistil pounced.
Sel saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and spun, barely dodging the kick the elven woman aimed at his head. He twisted his body and drew his knife, but her hand was already striking his wrist. The blow knocked the dagger from his grasp. A low sweep knocked Sel to the ground. Pistil grabbed his legs and locked him into a hold.
The Prince looked down at him from above, "I am truly sorry, Selgaer. But this knowledge must he passed on, and this is the only way."
The prince reached down and placed his palm on Sel's forehead. Sel noticed his palm was tattooed with some sort of red geometric symbols. As soon as the Prince touched Sel, his world collapsed.
Images passed through his mind. Sel was barely able to comprehend it all as knowledge flooded his brain.
He saw her - the demon, no, Fae - that fed on sickness and suffering. The is a predator that promises feasts and kills with famine. Whatever she might feed inevitably starves in some other way. He saw her feasting upon the suffering of the world. Watching people wither and die. The world withering. He saw Dramm on a pedestal; the Long Mother slowly feeding power into him to fuel his desire for revenge. He saw Dramm dead on the floor, bloodied knife in his own hands. The man had killed himself, and all that flower he built up was flowing out of his body. Sel followed the flow of magic and watched it twist and turn through the air like a river meandering across the plains. It made its way back to the Long Mother, where her own power grew immeasurably.
And that's when Sel realized what she was doing - she was feeding Dramm power in hopes to drive him towards insanity and drive him to suicide - only then could she feed upon him, feed on his suffering. Only then could she grow.
He watched her as she watched Dramm on that pedestal, her clawed hands surrounding him as if she were to grasp him and squeeze the life out of him herself. But she dared not. Only Dramm's act of suicide in a moment of pure desperation to end it all would give her what she wanted. So she focused on taking everything from him while feeding him more and more unstable power. She had taken his brother. She had taken the goblin. Next up was his lover and then all the rest of his friends.
He saw her, staring at Dramm with those eyes, those two burning black holes that stared with pure intensity. And then she looked up at Sel.
Her dark raspy voice slithered into his ears, "I see you, Selgaer of Crossings. I seeeee youuuu."
And it all went black.
He lay there in the grass for some time, head pounding. He watched the clouds move overhead in rapid succession as the sun dove towards the horizon.
"Master Selgaer?" a voice called out. Who was that? "Master Selgaer? Are you awake?"
Sel groaned. "Thomas? Is that you? What happened?"
"The prince has left, sir. He said you'd awake in a few hours. Are you ok, sir?"
"My head is killing me. What happened?"
"After you fell, sir, they talked for a while. I think they forgot I was here. Nobility is always like that, sir, forgetting us servants are about. So they spoke…"
[B]"Is it transferred?" the prince asked. "Did it work?"
The two elves stood over Selgaer looking down at the faun.
"Yes, your highness. It worked. The Long Mother can no longer see you. She will see him instead."
The prince let out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank f~#~," he said. "Do you have any idea how terrifying she is?" he prince gave an exaggerated shudder and breathed out, flapping his lips as he did so. "Gah! It was so bothersome constantly being watched by that psycho. So it's gone? It's really gone?"
The prince looked down at his hands and smiled. "They're really gone. No more runes. I'm finally free. Haha! Yes! I'm finally free!" He danced about in joy for a moment before stopping and letting out another sigh.
Gently nudging Selgaer with the toe of his boot, he said, "God I feel sorry for that poor f%*$."
"It had to be done, sire." the woman said.
"I know, I know. But that doesn't change the fact that his life is about to get a whole lot more interesting."
"It was the best decision, sire. You had to transfer her to someone else, and this faun was in the best position to help combat her. With his connection to the human, they can work together to fight her from the mortal realm while you hunt her down in the hidden realms."
"Yes, yes, I know, Pistil. But that still doesn't mean I can't feel sorry for him." The prince shuddered again, Brrrr-r-r-rah! Damn does it feel good to get rid of her. Sorry, ol' chap. Best of luck.
"Come, Pistil, let's get back to Alfheim. There's still a lot of preparation to do to eliminate the Long Mother." The prince looked back one last time as they walked away, "God I feel sorry for that poor f~$#."
Uruuna returns to her job as a Brown Cloak, working to ensure the safety of the citizens of Crossings. She continues to swiftly rise through the ranks, and now serves as Jon Crawley's right-hand woman and one of the town guard's most prominent officers. But the halfling is not one to rest on her laurels. As the dangerous plots threatening the region continue to escalate, Uruuna decides to go on a tour of sorts to other communities in the area to trade strategies and encourage vigilance.
She is gone for most of the next three months, stopping first at Sixton and then heading north to visit each of the crusader citadels along the border of the Desolation. She picks up a few new fighting tricks at each of them, learning the best ways to handle undead, demons, and other monsters. She also spends quite a bit of time with the orcs who have devoted themselves to the cause, knocking back drinks and getting into good-natured slugfests with them. She emerges with a handful of bruises and an understanding of the Dark Speech. Somewhere along the way, she also finds herself in possession of a lump of charcoal that radiates menace. Where it came from and what its purpose might be remain unclear...
At long last, she returns to Crossings, eager to reconnect with her husband and ready to face the challenges yet to come...
A week after returning from Verge, Joy does one of her regular walks to the local market.
Once, she grew a handful of vegetables. But over time, as her gardening - and magic - skills developed, growing bountiful beds of greenery became second nature to her. This morning, she is looking for seeds, to grow another crop.
And then, she stops in her tracks.
I sense something. There? There!
She turns, and sees Rafferty's stall. She has bought and sold at his a few times. But he has never had anything that resonated with her, certainly not like this!
It feels...it feels like the stone circle!?
Confused, yet excited, Joy walks over to Rafferty's. A bewhiskered face holds rheumy eyes squinting through old spectacles. He smiles a crooked smile, the result of a broken jaw poorly healed many years ago.
"Ah Joy! What can I do for you today?"
There is a brief pause as Joy urgently looks to and fro, seeking what drew her here.
Luckily, she soon finds it.
"These!", she suddenly says, seizing a cloth bag. It felt full of ordinary beans, like she has planted scores of times before.
"I'd like these. Where did you get them?", she asks, with a smidgen more urgency than one might normally associate with a bag of beans.
The older gent scratches his nearly bald pate, making humming and hawing noises, while occasionally squinting at the bag.
"I don't rightly recall, young miss. Stock goes in and out a lot with the streets safer and people happier to stick around. I'm sorry, but I can't remember where every last bean comes from!", he finishes with a chuckle.
Joy pauses, trying not to show disappointment in not sourcing beans, as she pulls out the few coins she needs to pay for them.
"Standard beans, just the usual!", says Rafferty as he reaches for the coins.
The youth leaves with a little more haste than usual.
*************************************************************************** *******************************************
In her room, Joy opens the bag.
They're beans. But they can't be *just* beans!
Joy stares at them for a while, picks a few up, studies them.
And then she sees the tiny fairy, barely visible standing on her mirror.
"Hello!!?!", replies Joy, very confused.
Especially when she realises that her own words reaching her ears sounded unfamiliar.
Wait, that's elvish! I'm speaking elvish!
The fairy sneaks off while Joy is trying to comprehend what's going on.
I feel different.
She closes her eyes and senses that the crystal within her is *stronger*.
Perhaps it's calling to the fey?
*************************************************************************** *******************************************
Over the next few weeks, Joy throws herself into experimentation, often in the woods outside Crossing.
She tries planting a few of the beans, in ground off the road.
They sprout magnificently, into beanstalks taller than a cottage, but steady under their own weight and emerald green. The sprouting beans grow in record time, are huge, and delicious!
Joy sets aside a patch of ground near the mansion to plant the rest of the beans, to get ready basketfuls of these huge beans.
And all the while, her household tasks become easier. She sees tiny fairies out of the corner of her eye nearly everywhere she goes. And she makes certain to leave little gifts for them all.
I know the etiquette. And they *are* being helpful.
Joy realises that she is growing her command of the elvish language, understanding any texts that Ezekia has left for sharing. She also realises that she has grasped the rudiments of fey magic, able to trick reality a little bit and misdirect foes.
And shrinking the baskets to a fraction of their size is pretty handy for transport!, she thinks as she chuckles.
As the weeks move on, she approaches Dramm and Ezekia.
In the privacy of Ezekia's, she says:
"Dramm, Ezekia. I feel the magic in me growing stronger. You might have noticed the fairies. I think they'll still be friendly so long as I show them respect. I've learned a bit of the fey magic. More, I think it's *growing* in me. I have it in me to help, even if the worst comes to pass. I do fear about what happens if my luck doesn't hold, and iron stikes me. I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't *be* Joy Summers."
Dramm's mousy face is tired and drawn, and at the mention of the fairies he tenses. Ezekia is tending to a set of animalistic bite marks on his forearm with comforting tenderness. Joy sees his eyes dart suspiciously as if looking for movement.
"Seen things move around the apartment. I had assumed you moved them. Explains my missing pages too, must have pulled them out to use for something. Old notes. I'll have to be more careful binding them." He feels a hard pinch and the scouring eyes from Ezekia remind him to properly address Joy instead of his own thoughts. "Magic grows and collects, especially in those of us that push our talents. Maybe this is yours?"
He shifts uncomfortably under Joy's distress at losing herself.
"You were Joy before, weren't you? You'll remain that way regardless." He speaks slowly while he searches for the right words. "The girl you saw is not Joy Summers. Losing your appearance will not make her any more the real Joy than she was before. She did not defend the crossings from murderers. She does not grow your garden. Most importantly, she is not here with us."
He nods to Ezekia and falls silent.
Returning to the Crossings
Dramm greets Ezekia with a hug that squeezes her tightly when they return to the Crossings. Time away from her always felt longer. He listens with adoring interest of her and the Coven's doings while the party purged the Verge. For several days after arriving, Dramm tears himself away from his studies to spend time with Ezekia. Instruction from Joy has helped him to begin growing the moon flowers year around in a small box, which he tends to carefully for his love. Eventually, his studies draw him again and he starts the next stage of his research.
The shards of the Thorn prove invaluable materials. The cruel, twisted wood still held fragments of the magic that seized and bound demons, which Dramm painstakingly dissects in a room at the mansion. As suspected, he was unable to recreate the complex spell. However, the shards revealed new ways to grasp onto the magical and chaotic essence that comprised the fluid forms of demons and other creatures.
A need for guidance leads Dramm to the scar-faced orc that once forced the demon possessing Anophth to face judgment. The two did not see eye to eye about the New God, but the exorcist was a font of information and enthusiastically keen to see evil creatures driven out and destroyed. Dramm found he liked working with the Orc despite his zealous faith. A mutual respect for single-minded zeal fostered between them. Weeks of comparing notes, collaborative effort, and tweaking the magical formula culminates in a ritual capable of tearing a possessing essence from its host with force of will. It is a complicated process that requires intense focus and powerful conviction to avoid opening oneself to possession in turn.
***********
Nightmares
As time passes, Dramm's sleeping gets worse. It becomes impossible to hide that he is thinning quickly despite an incredible appetite. About two months after the events at Verge, Joy is awoken in the night by fearful whimpers and a stifled yell in the apartment. Dramm bolts upright and his magic flares. Deep gouges tear themselves into the walls, ones Joy recognizes as Dramm's rending magic. Meanwhile, the sorcerer doubles over in pain. Blood seeps between his fingers from a vicious bite mark on his side. The intensity subsides and he heals the wound, gets up, and leaves for the night. Joy does not see him again until morning when he arrives at the mansion to continue working.
************
The Dagger and the Debt
Dramm makes several small payments to Dreen on his debt (5ss) before picking up the new knife. The blacksmith that Gunderson had recommended was true to his word, and the new blade was wickedly sharp. At Dramm's request, the smith had reworked the handle with wood taken from the Thorn. The blackened wood worked into the handle appeared almost woven under the new finish. The ritualistic design has been replaced with flowing silver lettering in High Archaic. The words promise the binding and destruction to creatures from outside of the world. The perfect weapon against his enemy.
The blade had cost a good deal, and Dramm was slow to earn the coin to pay off what Dreen loaned him. In spite of prideful protests, Uruuna was very insistent on helping to repay the debt (2gc, 6ss, 5cp). She yielded enough to allow Dramm to pay her in time, perhaps she understood that he would do so whether she agreed or not. Despite his embarrassment, Dramm appreciated the Halfling's generosity, though he would never admit it.
**************
A Gift
Not long after claiming his new dagger, a parcel arrives for Dramm. It is finely wrapped and carries the gentle scent of morning dew. A small, handwritten note is attached to a flowery bow. Unfortunately, Dramm is unable to read the language of the gently flowing, silvery ink. He simply stares at it for a time, and then opens the package carefully. Inside is a small glass cage, no larger than a few inches across. The delicate bars are wrapped in similar flowing letters, this time shimmering gold, and are quite beautiful. Dramm is able to identify a dormant magic within, but frustratingly is unable to activate it. Uncertain, he stores the cage for now to show to the party later. There are other preparations to make. This battle to the death is drawing to a close.
Joy is so wound up that she barely realises that Dramm got sidetracked. Not that she would mind so much. She is well aware of his quirks. He speaks, and her mannerisms release some tension.
"I...don't know. I'm not like most changelings, I realise that. They shift from form to form, while I cling tightly to this one. I have done good things, and I don't expect other people to do good things based on what they look like. So why shouldn't I do the same for myself?"
She stops, realising that she's thinking out loud, and looks at Dramm and Ezekia.
"Thank you both, for being such good friends and for keeping my secret. I think...I think it might be time that I tell - show - the others. So they aren't surprised at a crucial moment, if things go badly. What do you think?"
**************************************************************
Returning to the Crossings
Joy tries to make sure that Dramm doesn't want for anything mundane or for materials while he is focused on training. She coordinates with Ezekia to make sure of it, and gently shoos the fairies away from loose notes when she spots them.
"It would be helpful to be able to identify you in case of emergency." Dramm muses. Concern slowly etches itself into his face and he struggles for a time searching for words. "If you're afraid of not being Joy Summers, does that mean you're afraid there's someone else under your form?"
Another pause from Joy.
"Dramm, Ezekia, this is why I felt at all good about either of you knowing. You both have given me good advice, now and in the past. I...I will ask the Society. I just need to show the others briefly, then I can resume this form. All the while being Joy Summers."
By the time she stops speaking, Joy seems to have gathered her composure and her resolution.
"I'll pop out and have a chat with them right away. Thank you both!"
Joy makes for the door, walking fast but not running.
In the days leading up to Dramm calling everybody together to discuss the Long Mother, the Brown Cloaks have been kept busy investigating the disappearance of several children from across the city. A total of eight young kids have gone missing, vanished from their homes without a trace. Rumors from neighboring rural communities indicate several newborn babies are missing as well.
The evening of the meeting at the hilltop manor happens to be the same evening Selgaer returns from his own ominous meeting. As the faun makes his way through the city to deliver the dire warning he received, he notices a thick, silvery mist rolling in off of the Dark Waters. Its blankets the district of Tankards and begins creeping up the city's hills. Selgaer hustles along the streets, staying just ahead of the encroaching fog, and by the time he reaches the manor, all of Crossings is engulfed by the mist. Only the tops of houses can be seen down below.
From this high vantage point, Selgaer can see the fog originates from a large island in the Dark Waters--an island that wasn't there before the fog appeared. The island resembles a giant skull sitting atop a rocky hill flanked by thick forest, with the fog swirling above it.
Already, the ranger can hear faint screams and wails echoing from across the city...
Sel makes his way to the manor house where the others live.
Bam Bam Bam! he pounds on the door, eager to get in from the fog.
As soon as someone answers, he rushes in. I've got dire news. Gather everyone, he says.
I've received a warning about a hag who's trying to destroy the city. She believes that the world is ending, and the only way to stave it off is to eradicate all of Crossings off the face of Urth.
I was on my way here when it started. The entire city is shrouded in am unnatural fog. I kept ahead of it for most of the way here, but it over took me before I could reach the manor. It seems to be coming from an island in the Dark Lake - one that wasn't there yesterday.
We need to stop her.
Oh no! That has to be bad news!
At the sound of knocking, Joy makes sure to get ready as quickly as she can - and feels justified when Selgaer explains.
"Then we stop her. Right now, before anyone else gets hurt! Do we hae anything particularly useful to fight hags?"
Nymphs are wilderness faerie of surpassing beauty. But when a nymph’s joy becomes sorrow and bitterness replaces happiness, hate causes the nymph’s beauty to wither and die. What’s left is a horror called a hag. Green-skinned and warty, it is a monstrous reflection of the nymph’s former self, intent on making everyone else as miserable as itself.
Hags are powerful foes, wielding forbidden magic, hexes, and wychfire against their enemies. They are resilient against spells targeting them. Like most faeries, they are vulnerable to iron.
"I've never fought a Hag before. Only heard stories of them cursing people." Dramm grabs his dagger and manuscript from the table. It was almost surreal to him the way everyone moved so easily together with a few words from Selgaer. Everyone was already moving to grab weapons and gear that was already gathered for killing. It was practiced now.
"She wants to destroy the Crossing to prevent the end of the world? Does that seem unusually specifi? What gave her that idea?" He wonders aloud.
"Far as I can tell, the world is pretty close to ending pretty much anywhere."
"Hags are nymphs that get bitter and warped. It wants everyone else just as miserable as it and that's no small threat! Forbidden magic, hexes, wychfire, and tough to break with magic. Iron works though."
Joy's face is very serious.
"Maybe that wicked Katandramus gave her the idea. Perhaps she'll tell us as we stop her for good, maybe not. If the world is in trouble, we're doing our part to not let it get worse right here, right now."
Sel tries to remember everything the Prince told him, but so much happened that meeting that it all kind of blurred together.
I met with a prince who is had been working to protect the world, he told them. He's been risking his own life up in the Desolation to fight back the undead horde.
Despite his credentials, I wasn't sure I could trust him. But seeing the fog and the mysterious island appear out of nowhere gives him a little more credit.
He didn't mention anything about Katandramus.
But he did warn me about this hag, Toothsome Maera. He said she has learned of a prophecy predicting the end of world, utterly annihilated by the Shadow in the Void.
He said she dragged a soul up from Hell and it told her that our city was the key to stopping this shadow thing from this void place.
He paused for a moment to look around.
Anyone know what that means?
Then, looking at Dramm, he said, The prince also told me something about you. We need to speak. In private.
As Selgaer and Dramm move off to speak privately, Ezekia calls the rest of you together. "We will need to move swiftly to rescue as many people as possible. Get them off the streets and into safety. We should try to find the members of the Council and make sure they are secure as well before we seek out the hag and put a stop to this madness."
The witch looks across the room, to where Nutmeg has been lingering. "Nutmeg, it's not safe for you to stay here. You should stick by your father's side." The young ferren nods, eyes wide.
Once Dramm and Selgaer rejoin the group, you gear up and prepare to leave your manor. As you step into the foyer, though, the doors suddenly burst open as four massive creatures force their way inside! The creatures resemble large wolves, almost the size of horses. Coarse fur like spines stands along their backs. Each has six burning eyes, and they howl as they stalk forward!
The giant not-quite-dogs completely take Sel aback, that inner faun fear telling him to run - run like hell.
But no, he cannot. He must overcome it. He draws his spear and charges forward, slicing into a dog and then bouncing back out of reach.
"They knew exactly where we were?!"
The wolves were frightening to Imedren, despite everything he had seen, the howls shook him to his core.
Once the others began to move he let out a deep breath and called forth to the chaotic energies of the world. He summoned them all at once, but instead of letting them go, he held onto them, guiding them and shaping them into an image of his own. He moved them to attack all of the wolves, through the foyer spearing through one, out the right door into another, bending it left under the overhand into the third and finally striking the fourth.
or
The howls chill Dramm's blood and his legs are desperate to flee, but he holds firm. He has heard the howls before in the dark forests of his nightmares. The red eyes glinted with a starved malice and Dramm could feel their hunger.
No, I'm awake now. This is no dream. In the waking world, living things can be killed.
Selgaer rushes forward with his spear. When he leaps away, silvery tendrils strike his back and weave into his muscles. The faun is invigorated for battle!
"The Children! They are servants of the Long Mother!" Dramm calls to Selgaer, "This is no accident. Kill them all!"
Joy sees the fearsome creatures and doesn't blink.
"We've beaten worse than you!", she calls out defiantly, just before disappearing!
With that, she hurls witch fire at any of the hellish wolves that stand near, especially one that's wounded.
Joy can use a triggered action to impose 1 bane on that roll. She can use this talent a number of times equal to your Power score (4). She will regain expended uses when she completes a rest.
Tabog springs from his seat by the piano and he puts himself in front of his son with frightening speed!
"See Nutmeg, this is why we lock the door behind us, right Selgaer!?! Go now son, get cover behind the piano!"
He looses an arrow at the closest hound.
...and another!
Imedren's chaotic lance tears through all four wolves, leaving them badly injured. Tabog fires two arrows into the nearest beast, and it collapses, blood and shadows pouring from its wounds. Joy scorches another with her witch fire.
As Dramm bolsters Selgaer's health, the remaining wolves suddenly dart forward, lunging at the faun and at Uruuna. Their wicked teeth tear into them, knocking both to the ground!
Quick as a whip, Selgaer leaps back to his feet. His spear thrust comes up short as fear spoils his aim. Uruuna is likewise frightened, but the fighter still knows just where to strike to do the most damage. Her blade lashes out as she slices two wolves!
Imedren saw the various possiblities playing out in front of him. Uruuna getting attacked forced a number of them out and a handful in. His fear still had a hold of him and he called to the power of chaos, empowering his fire magic, attacking the center wolf. The strain built and with everything became too much, he called to space folding around him and warped ahead.