Tsula looked out over the ocean far below, watching the sunrise once again. A quiet prayer passed her lips as the sun broke over the horizon. She sighed softly as she turned to go back into the warmth of the cottage.
A bright fire welcomed her in the hearth, she sat and poured water from the kettle into her waiting cup of tea leaves. a few sips later and she was pacing the room, her eyes kept looking out the eastern window. She tried once again to settle down in her chair but again the restlessness brought her back to her feet.
"Perhaps it is truly time to go home" even as the words left her lips a rightness settled in her mind... yes, home.
Over the ocean the island changed course in the brightening morning sky drifting ponderously towards the rising sun.
Dale - Happily ever after
"So my time in the war ended, and wouldn't ya know it? The great vermin at the bottom of the upside down tower doo-hickey left too! Whooowheee. That's a bonafide one two buckle my shoe punch! There wasn't much to do there anymore in Travance so I just done packed up my stuff, said goodbye to my cousin and thanked him for all the help he gave me gettin' on my feet after the war. I let 'im know that I wouldn't ever be able to repay his kindness and that he and his always have a seat at my table back home!
But with that, time was a-wastin' and I moved back across the rift with nothing but the bag on my shoulder and the gold in my pouch.
When I arrived home, it was just as beautiful as I remembered it! The town threw me a big ole party upon my arrival and all the kiddies gathered 'round to hear my stories of the war and the great battles in Travance! I felt like the Bell of the ball! I guess I was literally 'n' such...
But that's only the beginning of my story! That night I got back I asked Rachel if we could stop beatin' 'round the bush and I got on my knee and asked if she'd wanna live with me for the rest of our lives, build ourselves a simple cottage little bit outside town, raise some sheep and grow some crops. She told me she would only say yes if I was done with that adventurin' lifestyle and such. I told her I'd burn my bow and melt my daggers that self same night, but I couldn't lie to her:
She was the adventure I'd been waiting for my whole life. I'd never be done with the adventurin' life if she said yes!
I guess that isn't what she meant because she laughed at me and I didn't really understand the joke....
But anyhow! The cottage is complete now and I'm working on the fencin' so them sheep don't wile out. It's going great! Rachel made me one of her village famous roasts on that boar I caught a day'r'two ago that was tryna get in our carrot patch. DEEEEEEELishous.
Oh? Did I forget to tell ya? Well of course she said yes!"
The large wooden doors of the former Marcain estate creaked open, welcoming home one of the last two descendants of the once-noble house. It was never too much, even at the height of its glory- it was based out of Angst, after all, but, for the first eighteen years of Damien’s life, this place was everything. Now, the rooms and hallways were silent. No siblings, older or younger, would greet him. No loving mother would scold him, overcome with worry as to where he had been all this time. He would hope Julia would come home as well, and join him, but he didn’t believe too strongly that it would happen. No, this place was terrible.
He climbed the stairs in the main entrance hall, proceeding past the study, the library, and the hall that used to contain his and all his siblings’ bedrooms. He unlocked the door to the third floor, and proceeded upwards further. Down the dusty hall of the top floor, and through one final door, he stepped into his mother’s former office. He’d been through every drawer of the desk, every lockbox on the shelves, and every page of every ledger she had left behind, and still, he could hardly wrap his head around how she used to run this whole empire by herself. But… with no imminent dangers to the world, no more feasts with friends and fellow heroes to occupy himself… he could no longer avoid confronting this large, empty house, and all that it used to contain.
Perhaps out of a desperation for something familiar, he would learn. He would dedicate himself to building what his family used to own. Etching his name on Inheritor, the sword held by every head of the Marcain household, he sat down to begin his work.
…
“I don’t much care for your tone, Marcain.” An imposing figure slammed his fist on the dining room table in frustration.
“And I don’t much care for slavers.” Damien’s response was cold, calculated, emotionless. “So I’m simply being forward with you.”
“We’ll take our business elsewhere then, and you’ll be-“
“Following you. I don’t think you quite understand, Captain. I’m not turning down your offer. I’m shutting you down entirely.” Placing his wine glass on the table, Damien stands. “I practically own this gods-awful city, whether the rest of the families realize it or not. And I will not have scum like you abducting children off my streets.”
A moment of shocked silence hung in the air for several long, tension-filled moments. Filling with anger, Damien’s guest reached for his sword. “I don’t listen to the likes of-“
*BANG.*
Damien sighed. He would’ve preferred to not waste the bullet.
…
As he took the sealed letter to the window, he didn’t expect to find one waiting for him. Swapping the parchments with the well-trained messenger, Damien spoke clearly-
“Julia.”
She hadn’t been visiting as often, recently, but she checked in enough, so he was at ease. And a letter asking for help cleaning up the remnants of the good captain’s crew would certainly bring her home quickly. Still, with that sent, his attention curiously shifted to the letter that had been waiting for him.
“…Jackdaw? What’ve you been up to these past few years, eh? …Ah, I see… I’d best polish my weapons.”
His weapons left at the entrance out of respect, Winks stood in the large underground cavern, in front of the stone altar in the shape of a large turtle shell. He knelt at the end of the damp paved walkway, one green-skinned hand resting on the carving in front of him.
“It’s been a couple years. Since the battle during the war when you woke up. And then that war ended, and not long after everything just became...quiet. I started coming down, and I know you’re either asleep again, possibly dead again, or just not bothering to respond to anything I say, but that’s ok. I know you’re here, I’ve kind of always known, always had the feeling, ever since Aleister first told me about you.”
He sighs and sits back, easing off his slightly aching knees and crossing his legs in front of him. “This city, it means a lot to me, and I think that’s where our connection came from. I moved here a decade ago, after the Sharpthorn Holdings were destroyed, and I just wanted a home where I could keep my family safe. I got that, because I worked to make it that way. Drega’Mire, and Oringard in particular, has become my first real home since leaving Gaaldron, and I love everything about it. I love the streets during the day and the dark alleys at night. I love the bridges over the River Aris and the tall walls that help to protect us. And I love the people of this city, all those who have accepted me over the years and supported me and eventually welcomed me as not just their representative and protector, but as one of their own.”
A tear rolls down his cheek as he sits in front of the altar. “And that’s what makes this difficult. That quiet that I mentioned. Just because things are so much calmer here in Travance, doesn’t mean there isn’t still work to be done elsewhere. The rebellion is still going in Gaaldron, led in part by my own grandfather. I still feel like Kormyre could really make a difference up there, but only if I work to make it happen. So I’ve finally accepted Aleister’s standing invitation to join him in Aleander, as one of his knights there. I know I’ll have support there, not just Aleister but also Stonewall and a few of the other council lords. There’s been real change here in Travance and Kormyre since I’ve been here, and I’m hoping we can bring that change to Gaaldron as well. My family will be coming with me of course, as will Keladry. Hells, with full immersion into the affairs of the capitol and greater diplomatic exposure, she probably won’t even be my squire for much longer. She’s already come so far…”
Winks uncrosses his legs and stands once again. Placing both hands on the large carved shell in front of him, he bows his head. “I know I’m leaving Drega’Mire in good hands. The remaining members of the court will do everything they need to to protect this land. And I’ve lost count of how many skirmishers and worg riders I’ve trained over the years. And then there’s you. I know you’re still here, and you will be long after we’re all gone, in some form or another. I don’t know how I know that, but I just do. Just like I know that when I leave for Loez, I’m taking a piece of you with me in my heart. I just hope I know how to use it, and that I’m worthy of it.”
He stands up straight, wipes his eyes, and turns to leave the cavern. Halfway to the entrance he stops, feeling an added weight on his chest. Looking down he sees, hanging next to his Galladelian holy symbol, a small amulet in the shape of a turtle shell. Winks looks back to the altar over his shoulder, smiling softly, then continues to the entrance where he gathers up his weapons and makes his way back to the surface.
Peace began to wear on Tari, others appeared happy and relieved, they went on to have full lives. Tari on the other hand, she was left uneasy. Tari never trusted the peace and she was left weary with nothing to fight, and nothing to do. She began to spend more and more time with the Glomm clergy, particularly Cyan. He was all to happy to welcome her. Cyan reinforced to not trust the peace, to embrace the unease that she felt. Cyan spoke often about what he was, and what he could help her accomplish if only she would listen. Cyan began to speak of things, undead and power. At first Tari resisted, however as time went on, she began to listen. With peace continuing and no where for Tari to go, she began to wonder if white sorcery was even needed any longer…the world was peaceful, and there seemed to be nothing to defend the weave from.
One day Cyan came to Tari and said today was the day. He stated that it was time to follow in the family footsteps, it was time to become a lich. Cyan promised her that she could become a lich and still be like her great grandfather, Tari had learned a lot from Cennius over the years and thought the power boost could be useful. Cyan also reminded Tari that the peace would not last and when it did, something terrible would be coming and she had to be ready. Tari was reluctant to admit even to herself that there was a twinge of excitement, she had always wondered what the other side felt like, what no rules and no one to answer to. With one last breath, Cyan began the ritual.
Tari opened her eyes with a new sense of power. Looking around, it was like seeing the world for the first time. Tari smiled and slowly got up. Looking at Cyan, her expression said it all, why had she waited so long to do this? This was such a great feeling; Tari finally understood the draw and need for power.
Ilana: Breaking the Chain (Part 1)
It did not end in a grand battle between whatever Aleister was expecting to become and Amatoth.
It did not end with VIM appearing, maybe being purged of the void corruption and making a last stand?
It did not end in failure and the world being devoured.
It just ended.
The odd calm that was felt hearing the news was a relief and a strain. Ilana knew she had placed a shackle on herself long ago with a promise she found so important. Now, she finally had a key, a chance to be rid of it for good.
Well, there were other things weighing her down. The new tree that loomed in the distance stood between her and freedom. She whispered to Sam her thoughts of leaving but knew that she needed to continue her work in Pendarvin. Once she was rid of the strange creature that wailed unnaturally on particularly dark nights, she could begin plotting out her real adventure.
Ilana unfurled the detailed map of the crater that surrounded the strange tree, the border that had been detailed by her dear vassals and the wall that was still in the process of being erected at the slope of an entrance that existed in the small cratered valley. There was clearly something in that mist, gnarled wood and bone. Fortunately, it did not leave the mist. Unfortunately, the mist ever so slightly spread and each darker night, the further it tried to press, retreating into place when the sun shined.
---
The first year was the hardest, some had expected things to be worst around Galladel’s Watch but it was just like any other evening. No, it seemed the dark was its interest and nothing about spirits. Ilana had prepared for Solstice, the longest night, the best she could but even she did not quite expect what happened. Fortunately, with less of the ‘world’ to worry about, she was able to put out a call and those eager adventurers with nothing to do meandered their way into Pendarvin the next Winter. With researching, planning, and probably a lot of luck, the next longest night was a much brilliant, violent battle.
Maybe they had truly defeated the creature or simply beat it down. Ilana took the reprieve from the strange threat to prepare her own future plans but she delayed herself to not leave *too* soon, in case it came back. Pendarvin had been a relatively self-sufficient land and as they established their allies to the north, in the mountains, and rooted themselves in, Ilana was comfortable with her choice and let others know her interests of leaving in a few years.
With the new 'free time' Ilana began to work on a project she had always wished to but was always interrupted: The Gates of Passage. She reached out, seeing who was still around and still interested. decided to continue working on determining more of the dials and quirks of the interesting device. She had helped with it in the past and had a decent amount of knowledge, but was happy for any help offered. It seemed some of the old friendly faces were not around as much nowadays.
Ilana knew that things did not just end. One day an answer of some kind would be found as to what actually happened. She could enjoy the time she had though. Maybe somewhere through the gates there was an answer. Maybe there was somewhere else that needed help, inheriting Arawyn's problem. Or, maybe there was just a new place to find.
Despite these preparations, Ilana kept herself available to Darkwood Academy, the Proper, whomever still hovered around the Barony and wanted an ear to listen to them or maybe a small light to reignite theirs. She knew one day she would carry her light elsewhere but, until then, she left her door open to any who would want to step in. She noticed over time, even before the tower had disappeared, there were less and less people who seemed to care. Maybe it would be a good time to leave, to keep the memory of people the way she enjoyed them instead of what they might become.
After she found someone she trusted to take her place, she would begin the adventure she had always wanted.
Myrdiz Dar’hana had dutifully manned the clinic in Vadalis Crossroads as per Count Everest’s request for many years.
the lack of dangers had led to many new emigrants to Travance, but also those who wanted to work the clinic. She trained a few, and then, knowing the passage was now well guarded from disease, travelled away from there, back to her homeland.
no bounty on her family under the newest leader, she felt confident she would be able to reclaim the family place in the new government. Hopefully Sir Cinder would still be at his father’s side.
Bitzzz had spent enough time following the banners of Duke Belial across the continent. Those of her kin who had joined him, sent to Enax. Those who worked for the human who brought dishonor to Galderon tried to hind, but she found many of them. He left behind so many of his devoted. They were delicious.
returning to Travance, she learned of the knight Winks, and how his grandfather was leading the army trying to depose those who allied with the stupid human.
Though he worships Galadell, he is a good, honorable kin. Galadell not wrong god, like Valos. Bitzzz will go to Galderan and offer her swords to those who want to being honor back to Galderan.
Blood dripped down her forehead, obscuring her vision on the left side. Annoying.
Brushing her fingers over the trickle, she casually glanced at her hand to gauge the steadiness of the stream. Not bad. A typical head wound then likely. Not truly a concern, but still in this company not the best. Whispering under her breath, she mustered a bit of darkness to heal the wound and cleansed the blood from her skin smoothly and efficiently, careful to make no noise.
That fact addressed, she continued to monitor the situation. Two down, one up and moving with a slight limp on the right side. It, too, bled from the head and torso but much more slowly- but then, undead really didn't have a pulse much less blood flow. Still, not yet taken care of. Easily rectified.
Briskly, she proceeded to wrap the undead up in her magic and beheaded it. Releasing her magical bonds, she turned to review the situation, nodding her head as she determined this raid was finished. Nice, neat, complete. And before the rest arrived as well- but the witch hunters could deal with those. They kept complaining of boredom- they could clean up the mess. Besides, she had other things to take care of.
Turning her head, she viewed the small city she had helped found years ago- the inhabitants had no idea who she was but she added to their ranks from time to time.
"Slavery", she thought. "Not nearly as easy to deal with as vampires but just as satisfying."
Reminded of an appointment to keep, she pivoted on one foot and casually stepped through the portal that opened in midair for her. Emerging on the other side, she walked to her desk and checked her missives. Her bat flew around her face, but its movements were more satisfied than urgent and she spared it a fond glance. How strange it seemed to remember a time when she had hated magic and its uses- and now her bat was as much a part of her as her breath.
Overall, she decided, even losing the opportunity to help with Amatoth had barely affected her- she hadn't really had enough time to really get used to the idea before it seemed to have been taken care of. A part of her had been relieved while another part had regretted the disappearance. VIM vanishing seemed to her to be suitable- his task was done and she mentally saluted him as she had that day she felt him leave. As strange as others found it, she was happy for him- she had wondered before what would happen when his obsession was over. She still kept a thought for him but she had felt nothing since the day he left and so she felt sure that he was at rest. Glancing around her small domain, she rested her hands on her desktop for a moment. Maybe one day, she would be ready for the same.
Julia- Two Forward, Three Back
Femurs were difficult to carve into engagement rings. This is what the most recent hunt had taught Julia.Damned idiot. Her pocket knife slipped yet again as she attempted to chisel away portions of the bone, causing her to grimace. Maybe it was the wrong kind of knife? The wrong kind of bone? No, maybe she should get an actually bloody craftsman to do this kind of damn--
As the blade dug into the gleaming white surface yet again, it hit an odd angle, causing the femur to crack and split in two. Julia exhaled through gritted teeth, her eyes shutting tight. The remnants of the bone hit the ground as she hurled them in frustration, kicking up a small cloud of dirt in a ring round her feet.
The familiar feelings of rage bubbled in her chest. Immediately making her flush red, threatening to swell even further as her ears buzzed and a series of small, phantom pains attacked her clavicle. Her hand clawed instinctually at a necklace that no longer lay around her throat. Not finding it, the panic rose. However, she was prepared for this. She counted her breaths, steady and even. Between them were mantras, taught to her by Damien. Some in common. Others in Celestial. Over and over, muttered in a forced calm whisper as she leant forward, over the knees brought up to her chest. In several seconds, the frustration died, the burning in her belly fading to nothing but a mild flame.
Shoulders slumping in relief, she revelled in the calm. The rage never lasted nearly as long these days. If she could nip it in the bud before it grew, that is.Julia glared at the remnants of the bone, sitting in the dusty dirt of the forest path. She glared at it like it had slighted her personally. Horribly. Why did people propose anyway? They had already been dating nearly six years. Why not stay there? She already had plenty of rings. Surely she could just give Nalick one of those. He was a bloody Andorran, after all. Why would he ever go for a ring made of bone, for gods’ sake? He wouldn’t. Right?
There wasn’t time to linger on this long, she decided. Twilight was beginning to fall, the sunlight casting its last, long shadows across the forest floor. The usual group of children was coming around tomorrow for another lesson. If she wanted to teach them proper shelter craftsmanship, she’d have to collect materials for them ahead of time. In her head, she quickly counted how many branches she’d have to collect so they could each have a lean-to of their own. Dammit. Being a teacher was hard.Looking down, she sighed at the body lying next to her. It was cold by now. Right. Burying it would have to come before any gathering. Julia groaned at the inconvenience, but stood and began dragging the man further into the woods. It’d be a long night.
Jackdaw - Bane of the Corrupt
There was a cold silence in the Dragon’s Claw. The only sound Jackdaw could hear was the clack of his boots on the floor as he walked through it. Soft light from the occasional candle and the slowly dying fireplace left spots of orange glow throughout the otherwise darkened building. He had seen the building like this before, in the early hours of the morning just before the sun rose, when most of the town was sleeping off the latest battle. However this pre-dawn lull had lasted for months. Usually there was the occasional adventurer still awake, but now the building was just empty. After all of the work that had been done to see this town functional, the pieces began drifting away. It was quiet here, and Jackdaw abhorred the quiet. Travance it seemed had become distinctly dull.
By the end of the first year, in the most respectful way possible, he abandoned the responsibilities he had accepted to help ensure Travance kept running, and he began wandering. Quiet in Travance did not translate to quiet in the rest of the world. There was still evil, and terrible dangers, and that meant adventure and wealth. He rejoined the crew of the Winged Victory, and sailed to Sevenlore to test their mettle against the weavestorm. After barely escaping the Dreadiron fleet he saw to it that word of their activities made it to the right hero types. A few more adventures saw a few scrapes and death defying escapes (and maybe one or two deaths, but he’d apparently learned how to walk those off.)
By the end of the second year, he had a pile of treasures, and trophies from enemies defeated. The lack of Travance as a base of operations had made it clear that he and those who had been roped into his criminal enterprises would need some level of infrastructure. He began purchasing a few manors and estates dotted around the eastern side of the rift, and turning them into places to get supplies, and hide out. He built up contacts, and resources. It was draining funds, but one tended to commit crimes to gain the resources to commit bigger crimes. He still had friends that cared about laws that he wanted to stay in the good graces of. He still had Talaniel Starling who could deconstruct him with a glance. It became clear that he would have to be careful about who he targeted. However if he targeted people who deserved it not only would his allies cover for him, but the law would be less likely to come hunting him.
It was during the third year, while visiting Starling and getting into yet another deep discussion over dinner about the shape of the world, and how one could best help that he began to consider a new venture. Sure, there were no world ending events now, and the plethora of well intentioned heroes with nothing better to do were out and about stopping the easy to spot villainy. That meant a lot of hard to spot villainy was free to run rampant. People in power in Londwyn, Coast Haven, and even Kormyre who used their wealth and power to do what they liked, to hurt people that had no way to defend themselves, people the law had forgotten. Much as he didn’t like to admit it, Jackdaw was a person who cared, but he wasn’t good. He didn’t believe in doing what was right, he believed people should get what they deserved. That what you thought it was okay to do to others should be done to you. With a list of people in power who used that power to destroy others, he resolved to do the same to them. Not only steal from them, but to take everything. To take their money and power and see that it was used to help the people they hurt. To use the resources of vile people to destroy other vile people. This…. Was not a plan he could accomplish alone. He had always worked best with a team of heroes, and he knew a few people from Travance who would appreciate the work. A few invitations were sent out via letter, a few people were invited in person, a few just randomly showed up.
By the fourth year there was a small team of people directly working to undo the damage done to the world. There were even people still tied to official work who helped out when they could. This included getting a monastery to use as a safe house when things got bad. By the fifth year, the small group was locked into debate over who to focus on next. Now that the threats to Travance that no longer united them, there were former friends who warranted examination.
Magnus- without connection
"...496" Magnus closed his eyes trying to reach out to Fiona, to tell him where he was needed next, as he lowered his body closer to the floor but there was no call to action. This has become a common occurrence, for months now Magnus had reached out to the power that once guided him with no response. His connection to the greater good had not weakened, he still had all the powers granted to paladins, but there was no direction given with it.
"...497" Sweat dripped from his forehead hitting the cold stone floor of his home in the United territory of Corvancia. The territory he was sworn to protect was located underground situated between a major city of Deepholm and Travance. O.nce a lively place full of adventurers, now it was peaceful and quiet. His retainers scattered to the winds. His first knight was out looking for adventure by land, his second knight keeping peace on the seas, and his third he had not heard from in some time. Friends, council members and squires were all scattered across Aarwyn living their lives, yet magnus could not figure out what to do.
"...498" Magnus' muscles strained realizing he has not seen the sun in almost a week, and he wasn't needed in the capitol for another week. He looked over at his tattered General's coat, a small layer of dust has begun to form over it. In the beginning he would spend a great deal of time in the Capitol playing the roll he always has, of the brutish commoner at the nobles table, making a scene so Alister could actually get some work done, but this has become less and less common.
"...499" Magnus wondered if he should have just went with Astraea to the high elven capitol. Magnus paused for a brief second, the thought he just had tugged at something. What it tugged at magnus could no longer tell, but it was something he was once quiet familiar with.
"...500" Magnus stood up from his prone position and reached for a towel to wipe off the sweat, his mind spinning with everything he had just considered. "Does this world even need a creature like me and more... no not creature, you are a person magnus, remember she said you are a person" He finished drying off and walked towards the bath, "maybe sneaking out with the good prince to drink at the dragons claw will remind me of that, you know for old times sake"
Year have gone by. Deepwood has fortified their position and Cyan has expanded his trade empire. Aliester gave command of part of the Glomm Legion over to Cyan to protect the southern boarder. Fortresses, outpost and castles are being built all over the area to control the lands. Cyan frequently is giving food and other items to the peasanty. Fel spends the years tending to their son Amir and spreading the word of Glomm through the province. Indigo spends times traveling with Ireni to various ports making deals and wielding the influance they as a church continmue to grow. Henchman travels between the southern fortifications and their main stronnghold. Training and preparing forces.
Indigo and Cyan stand on the battlements of Cyans shadow fortress looking over the area talking about next steps and plans in whispered tones.
"Its been three years since Glomm came and claimed Jed." Indigo states
"Yes and we are almost ready. Money pours in from around the world from trade and we never stopped preparing. Tari is now with us and feels much better about herself and he new state." Cyan states.
As they discuss further fortifications and militerization Addy shows up on the battlements.
"Your back Addy how was your trip?" Indigo askes. Her responce is to hand him a letter. He reads it and hands it over to Cyan to read as well. "Its all ready" Ingigo muses.
"Yes gather everyone. The fun is about to begin. Its been quite for way to long." Cyan responds. As they reenter the showdowy fortress on a wind swept ridge overlooking the Deepwood.
A blue-haired elf walks into the back room of Galladelights Bakery, Auralion, Kaladonia, with a large rolled up parchment in hand. She clears off the kitchen's counter, moving mixing bowls and knives, before unraveling her treasure.
Ravani peers over the incredibly detailed map of the Barony of Travance, muttering to herself. "Pendarvin seems the most likely option? Lady Ilana is partial to our treats. She could be convinced very easily to give us prime real estate. She's the annoying honorable sort, but if we play this right, the promise of regular baked goods deliveries will only sound like an offer of friendship, not bribery." The elf taps a finger against her lips, deep in thought. "Stonefall could also have potential, but Elric needs to widen their line of blood treats before we start a branch there."
Ravani looks up, a smirk on her face, as she speaks to the starlight swan that forms out of mist and sits on top of the map. "First, the Proper. And then, all of Korymre. It's time for a new Empire. And a Bakery Empress!"
The housecat sized black panther stared at her pointedly from across the room.
"MEOOOW."
“Look, if you want attention you’re going to have to come over here,” she sighed. “I’m in the middle of something.”
The cat hopped up onto the windowsill. Following it with her eyes, Maria noticed past it the colors of the setting sun on the horizon. “Oh. Alright, alright, we’ll get a move on. I’ll finish my notations at home.” She stuffed the book into her satchel alongside the tarot deck that had been in her lap. She stood up with a slight wince. Her body protested from being curled up in a chair since lunch.
The sound of bells chimed in through the open window. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. It was getting late. She could always continue her studying at home. And she still had some shopping to do on the way. Political meetings ran long that morning, barring her from getting that done during her midday break. If she hurried, she could still get back before Darius finished dinner. A smile crossed her lips, and she flicked her left hand to get a bit of stray ink off the gold band on her ring finger.
She paused twice when walking out of her office, a few seconds apart, thinking a question in that direction just in case.
‘Hey love, I’m stopping by the market on my way home to pick up some extra birthday treats for Storm. Do you need anything?’
The Drake Queen sat in front of her house on the outskirts of New Avondale, staring off into the swamps and watching two drake hatchlings play-wrestle. They really did grow up so fast, despite how slowly time was passing these days.
Annora had always been a loner, by fate rather than choice, but she saw other humanoids even less than usual lately. It seemed no one needed her skills now. Drega'mire, at this point, was an administrative entity and she had never had a talent for paperwork. Talaniel and Angelica had that well in hand, Annora was sure. Kanas had grown into his role as a traveling protector of the people so well, that she had faith the common folk had a stalwart defender to turn to.
Annora let out a deep, mopey sigh. In this new era of peace, with the Dark Clandestine and its aura of evil gone, she was a protector with nothing to protect.
Lost in her own thoughts, she misses the warning signs of chirps and a waving tail. One of the hatchlings charges and knocks her into the mud in its attempt to rub his face against her horns. Laughing, Annora shakes herself out and shifts from bipedal to quadrupedal form, before chirping back at the hatchling. Mock-snapping at him, she playfully chases him into the marshes, while the other hatchling begins attempting to grab her tail.
Grinning a lizard smile, Annora runs after the young ones. At least she had her family.
It was midday. Kanas was sitting at a cafe table in the heart of Aliander with coffee in hand. He was watching a pair of minstrels entertaining the crowds coming and going, his foot tapping along with the beat. He used to do this back when he was adventuring in Travance. It helped him center himself. A reminder of the people he fought for. Not kings. Not great concepts beyond his ken. But for people, so that they can live out their lives happy and free. But things change. The great evil is no more. There’s peace. He was no longer needed in Travance.
With peace in Travance came peace within the kingdom as a whole. Kormyre was entering a state of stability, and while there was no sitting king on the throne there was a feeling of reassurance. The tension in the air was starting to dissipate, and he was able to breathe a sigh of relief. In a way, his purpose as a knight was complete. He helped Kormyre in its time of need, to find a way through the storm. But knighthood never truly suited him, and like the paladins of ages past, he knew it was time to step away. He’ll have words with Piper and Magnus. Point his squire in their direction. Axiana had served him for a few years now, and she has grown leaps and bounds since they started. He knew she was ready. He’ll give her the Queen’s Shield too. It belongs with the kingdom, not with him.
He wasn’t sure where he would end up after this. Part of him wanted to settle down. But he knew there’s always people in need and he’s never been the settling down type. He never liked staying in one place for too long and while Kormyre was nice there’s a whole world to explore. He didn’t know how much of the wanderlust was Fiona guiding him or was his own. He just knew to follow it. Though this time he didn’t want to do this alone.
Kanas’ afternoon date was to arrive any minute. He didn’t plan for this day to be special. It wasn’t an anniversary nor a holiday for them. It just felt right to do this now. He nervously played with a silver ring in his hand as he saw Laric walk through the crowd. Fiona grant me courage.
(CW: Death of family, emotional abuse)
This was the third bouquet of flowers that had made its way into Verity’s hands this morning.
She rubbed a thumb against the rough stem, somewhat perturbed and confused by the bundle of viscaria presented to her by some philistine clad in finery beyond his station. Bending gently at the knee, she laid the bouquet on the pew behind her, freeing up her hands to accept the barrage of apologies and melodramatic condolences that had plagued her for the past two hours.
History is always written by the victor, or so she was told. Perhaps that explained the gilded tales of her mother that wafted from the mouths of the shifting crowd. They settled into the cathedral’s vaulted ceiling as a soft din, but the weight of their words pressed down on Verity’s shoulders.
“You knew very well that the moment you set foot in that room, every eye would be upon you,” her mother scolded between clenched teeth, removing her jewel-encrusted hand from Verity’s shoulder. She towered over Verity, who found a child’s diadem rolling over her fidgeting fingers.
The diadem vanished as a set of black shoes entered Verity’s vision. “My deepest condolences, Consul.” lamented the elderly, bespectacled elf before her. “She was always such a kind woman. Did excellent work for the children, such charity.”
“By the Gods!” she spit, as though each word were a droplet of venom on her tongue, “I told them I had a trained lady-in-waiting. ‘Afraid’ has no place in your vocabulary. If I’d known you’d have referred to the host as ‘sir,’ I’d have sooner sent a donkey to give an appropriate introduction for our household.”
Verity inhaled sharply, quickly punctuating the moment with a hasty smile. “Thank you for your kind words,” she replied. It felt so performative, but then again, wasn’t everything else? “I’m afr- I wouldn’t be where I am today without her guidance.” She paused. Would she? Here she stood today, a respected advisor, an unparalleled strategist, a diplomat known in her own right and sought after by a King’s Candidate -she ought to respond to that missive tonight - and surely the envy of her sisters. She’d made great strides in the circles her mother frequented and beyond, and yet... was this her success? More importantly, was this what success meant to her?
Lady Arkwright soon realized she’d balled her gown into clenched fists. Wide eyed, she loosened her grip, fervently smoothing out the shimmering material. She sighed and straightened her back, looking more like a statue than the mother of the little girl before her. “Consider yourself lucky that this is a charity gala for the gentry, so I can make up for the damage you caused from that excuse of a conversation.”
“I’m sure that right now, she’s looking down and smiling on you,” said the man, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his halfhearted smile. This wasn’t palliative, it was patronizing. “Death doesn’t bestow the mantle of a hero on the backs of those it welcomes,“ she thought to herself, “nor does it wash away a lifetime of misdeeds.” Fearing her thoughts may have betrayed her and escaped her lips, Verity looked back at the man, whose warm countenance remained unbothered.
“Now, unless you want to continue making good on your commitment to being a malignant blemish on this family’s name, I suggest you go out there and convince every lord and lady of the court that I didn’t just lie to them about my daughter’s ability to conduct herself.”
“I’m glad you share her faith in me.”
After swallowing several additional sorries from the gentleman, she began to wonder if she were better suited to the screened side of a confessional box for these tirades. After all, this was for their sake, not her own. Eventually, he continued to his seat, satisfied with the pleasantries exchanged, and another took his place shortly after. Eventually, the throngs of people funneled past her and into their seats. Verity waited forever for silence to fall, and then solemnly approached the podium. The seats were filled, the air fresh and still. She didn’t look left, even though the silhouette of that box screamed for her attention. Her mother was right, she conceded, she was prepared for this moment. Time for an introduction.
Her lips parted.
Usually hard work and determination led to the realization of dreams and goals.
That didn’t seem to be the case for Axiana Lockmoore.
With what seemed like a single stroke of a pen, the ship was decommissioned and the Navy downsized. Her hands shook as she read the letter. Just like that; all the work she had done, what she had accomplished, erased by a single notice. This wasn’t sadness; this was anger. Her chance to become a captain and head her own ship dashed by the cold piece of parchment in her hands. Which isn’t to say her dreams were totally crushed; of course there were other ways to captain her own ship. But this felt different. She didn’t talk to anyone the rest of that day; in fact she didn’t remember most of it.
Two days later and she had effectively resigned. It's not like they would want to keep her around. Now all that was left was to make her next move and say goodbye. Saying goodbye to the crew was hard, but she managed. Packing was far easier; she didn't have very much to her name to begin with. All that was left was to tell the Captain.
She hadn’t even closed the door to her quarters before coming face to face with Albine Duchamp, leaning up against the creaking wood of the ship. Startled and face a bit red, she offered the chief the best smile she could muster. “I wasn’t aware you were there Duchamp.” Axiana stated plainly. Duchamp simply nodded and, with a raised eyebrow, gestured to the packed bag resting on Axiana’s bed.
“So, you’re off as well. Have you told the Captain yet?” Duchamp inquired.
Axiana shook her head, “ No, I was on my way to tell him now.” She pauses for a long time, staring at her fellow sailor. “Albine, it’s been an honor serving with you. And thank you for putting your trust in me. I wish you only the best going forward,” she flashes her a brief lopsided smile, “And who knows? Perhaps our paths will cross again. It’s been far too long since my last trip to Coast Haven.”
Duchamp offers Axiana a rueful smile in return. “It was an honor to fight by your side. Take care of yourself out there Axiana. And good luck." Axiana stuck her hand out to clasp Duchamp's and while the other woman reciprocated, she soon pulled the young lieutenant into a hug. They parted ways not long after.
She found him in his quarters, door open as he stood overlooking the port from his window. Announcing her approach with a knock on the door frame, Cobus turns around to face her. It was not hard to tell how the Captain was taking the news. It was one thing to have had all his hard work be for naught, but it was another thing entirely to watch as his close knit crew had the rug pulled out from under them. It wasn’t an easy thing to accept for any of them.
Seeing the look on her face, he could easily tell where this conversation was heading as his features dropped. "XO, I was wondering when you would come around. Planning on staying until the end?" He asks, but she knows he already knows her answer.
“No,” she shook her head and offered him a small, somber smile, “No I'm afraid I won’t be sticking around to watch as the axe drops. I already bid Duchamp, Moran, Collins and the crew farewell. You were the last on my stop, sir.” She pauses for a moment before continuing, “I got my affairs in order ahead of time. There doesn’t really seem to be a need for plucky, chaotic lieutenants right now. And we both know how bad I am at clerical work.” she says with a small laugh in a failed attempt to lighten the mood.
With her laugh dying down her face takes on a more serious expression. Reaching her closed fist out, she opens it, revealing her crossed pistol pins.
“Since I’m no longer-”
Cobus shuts her down quickly with a shake of his head. "No. You've earned those, Axiana. They were not given freely. Keep them with you, they can serve as a reminder. You said it yourself, you're far better where you are than where you have been. Remember that."
"I...thank you, sir." Is all she can say as she places her pins into her jacket pocket. There is a very long silence between the pair. "You've taught me some valuable lessons over these past years. And I couldn't ask for a better friend. Please be good to yourself, sir. I can't always be watching your back now can I? You've got a lot of people who care about you out there." She laughs.
He chuckles at her response. "Well you're still my XO, after all, peace be damned. You be good to yourself out there as well, Axiana."
Axiana nods her head. "I'll be okay. Always am." She snaps him one final salute. "It's been an honor, Cobus."
Cobus returns her salute. "The honor has been all mine, Axiana." The two linger here for a moment before she heads back towards the door.
"Be proud of the leader you have become."
Back in her quarters, she pens a quick letter to send before she heads out. Once the writing is complete, she grabs her bag and takes one last look at the quarters she has called home the past several years. The only place stable enough for her to call home; the first place she could call her own.
And with a deep breath, she departs, leaving behind the life she had known for what could only be an unsure future.
Kanas,
It seems that with peace brings me more time to dedicate to being your squire, on a more permanent basis. I’ll be making my way to Alieander this evening. I will see you in a few days time.
Tsula looked out over the ocean far below, watching the sunrise once again. A quiet prayer passed her lips as the sun broke over the horizon. She sighed softly as she turned to go back into the warmth of the cottage.
A bright fire welcomed her in the hearth, she sat and poured water from the kettle into her waiting cup of tea leaves. a few sips later and she was pacing the room, her eyes kept looking out the eastern window. She tried once again to settle down in her chair but again the restlessness brought her back to her feet.
"Perhaps it is truly time to go home" even as the words left her lips a rightness settled in her mind... yes, home.
Over the ocean the island changed course in the brightening morning sky drifting ponderously towards the rising sun.
Dale - Happily ever after "So my time in the war ended, and wouldn't ya know it? The great vermin at the bottom of the upside down tower doo-hickey left too! Whooowheee. That's a bonafide one two buckle my shoe punch! There wasn't much to do there anymore in Travance so I just done packed up my stuff, said goodbye to my cousin and thanked him for all the help he gave me gettin' on my feet after the war. I let 'im know that I wouldn't ever be able to repay his kindness and that he and his always have a seat at my table back home! But with that, time was a-wastin' and I moved back across the rift with nothing but the bag on my shoulder and the gold in my pouch. When I arrived home, it was just as beautiful as I remembered it! The town threw me a big ole party upon my arrival and all the kiddies gathered 'round to hear my stories of the war and the great battles in Travance! I felt like the Bell of the ball! I guess I was literally 'n' such... But that's only the beginning of my story! That night I got back I asked Rachel if we could stop beatin' 'round the bush and I got on my knee and asked if she'd wanna live with me for the rest of our lives, build ourselves a simple cottage little bit outside town, raise some sheep and grow some crops. She told me she would only say yes if I was done with that adventurin' lifestyle and such. I told her I'd burn my bow and melt my daggers that self same night, but I couldn't lie to her: She was the adventure I'd been waiting for my whole life. I'd never be done with the adventurin' life if she said yes! I guess that isn't what she meant because she laughed at me and I didn't really understand the joke.... But anyhow! The cottage is complete now and I'm working on the fencin' so them sheep don't wile out. It's going great! Rachel made me one of her village famous roasts on that boar I caught a day'r'two ago that was tryna get in our carrot patch. DEEEEEEELishous. Oh? Did I forget to tell ya? Well of course she said yes!"
Damien- "Homecoming"
The large wooden doors of the former Marcain estate creaked open, welcoming home one of the last two descendants of the once-noble house. It was never too much, even at the height of its glory- it was based out of Angst, after all, but, for the first eighteen years of Damien’s life, this place was everything. Now, the rooms and hallways were silent. No siblings, older or younger, would greet him. No loving mother would scold him, overcome with worry as to where he had been all this time. He would hope Julia would come home as well, and join him, but he didn’t believe too strongly that it would happen. No, this place was terrible.
He climbed the stairs in the main entrance hall, proceeding past the study, the library, and the hall that used to contain his and all his siblings’ bedrooms. He unlocked the door to the third floor, and proceeded upwards further. Down the dusty hall of the top floor, and through one final door, he stepped into his mother’s former office. He’d been through every drawer of the desk, every lockbox on the shelves, and every page of every ledger she had left behind, and still, he could hardly wrap his head around how she used to run this whole empire by herself. But… with no imminent dangers to the world, no more feasts with friends and fellow heroes to occupy himself… he could no longer avoid confronting this large, empty house, and all that it used to contain. Perhaps out of a desperation for something familiar, he would learn. He would dedicate himself to building what his family used to own. Etching his name on Inheritor, the sword held by every head of the Marcain household, he sat down to begin his work.
… “I don’t much care for your tone, Marcain.” An imposing figure slammed his fist on the dining room table in frustration. “And I don’t much care for slavers.” Damien’s response was cold, calculated, emotionless. “So I’m simply being forward with you.” “We’ll take our business elsewhere then, and you’ll be-“ “Following you. I don’t think you quite understand, Captain. I’m not turning down your offer. I’m shutting you down entirely.” Placing his wine glass on the table, Damien stands. “I practically own this gods-awful city, whether the rest of the families realize it or not. And I will not have scum like you abducting children off my streets.” A moment of shocked silence hung in the air for several long, tension-filled moments. Filling with anger, Damien’s guest reached for his sword. “I don’t listen to the likes of-“ *BANG.* Damien sighed. He would’ve preferred to not waste the bullet.
… As he took the sealed letter to the window, he didn’t expect to find one waiting for him. Swapping the parchments with the well-trained messenger, Damien spoke clearly- “Julia.”
She hadn’t been visiting as often, recently, but she checked in enough, so he was at ease. And a letter asking for help cleaning up the remnants of the good captain’s crew would certainly bring her home quickly. Still, with that sent, his attention curiously shifted to the letter that had been waiting for him.
“…Jackdaw? What’ve you been up to these past few years, eh? …Ah, I see… I’d best polish my weapons.”
Winks - Decisions
“I’ve been down here a lot lately…”
His weapons left at the entrance out of respect, Winks stood in the large underground cavern, in front of the stone altar in the shape of a large turtle shell. He knelt at the end of the damp paved walkway, one green-skinned hand resting on the carving in front of him.
“It’s been a couple years. Since the battle during the war when you woke up. And then that war ended, and not long after everything just became...quiet. I started coming down, and I know you’re either asleep again, possibly dead again, or just not bothering to respond to anything I say, but that’s ok. I know you’re here, I’ve kind of always known, always had the feeling, ever since Aleister first told me about you.”
He sighs and sits back, easing off his slightly aching knees and crossing his legs in front of him. “This city, it means a lot to me, and I think that’s where our connection came from. I moved here a decade ago, after the Sharpthorn Holdings were destroyed, and I just wanted a home where I could keep my family safe. I got that, because I worked to make it that way. Drega’Mire, and Oringard in particular, has become my first real home since leaving Gaaldron, and I love everything about it. I love the streets during the day and the dark alleys at night. I love the bridges over the River Aris and the tall walls that help to protect us. And I love the people of this city, all those who have accepted me over the years and supported me and eventually welcomed me as not just their representative and protector, but as one of their own.”
A tear rolls down his cheek as he sits in front of the altar. “And that’s what makes this difficult. That quiet that I mentioned. Just because things are so much calmer here in Travance, doesn’t mean there isn’t still work to be done elsewhere. The rebellion is still going in Gaaldron, led in part by my own grandfather. I still feel like Kormyre could really make a difference up there, but only if I work to make it happen. So I’ve finally accepted Aleister’s standing invitation to join him in Aleander, as one of his knights there. I know I’ll have support there, not just Aleister but also Stonewall and a few of the other council lords. There’s been real change here in Travance and Kormyre since I’ve been here, and I’m hoping we can bring that change to Gaaldron as well. My family will be coming with me of course, as will Keladry. Hells, with full immersion into the affairs of the capitol and greater diplomatic exposure, she probably won’t even be my squire for much longer. She’s already come so far…”
Winks uncrosses his legs and stands once again. Placing both hands on the large carved shell in front of him, he bows his head. “I know I’m leaving Drega’Mire in good hands. The remaining members of the court will do everything they need to to protect this land. And I’ve lost count of how many skirmishers and worg riders I’ve trained over the years. And then there’s you. I know you’re still here, and you will be long after we’re all gone, in some form or another. I don’t know how I know that, but I just do. Just like I know that when I leave for Loez, I’m taking a piece of you with me in my heart. I just hope I know how to use it, and that I’m worthy of it.”
He stands up straight, wipes his eyes, and turns to leave the cavern. Halfway to the entrance he stops, feeling an added weight on his chest. Looking down he sees, hanging next to his Galladelian holy symbol, a small amulet in the shape of a turtle shell. Winks looks back to the altar over his shoulder, smiling softly, then continues to the entrance where he gathers up his weapons and makes his way back to the surface.
The Next Chapter Pt 1
“Step forward, kneel, and repeat after me…”
Kel took a deep breath before following the command. How long had she been on this journey? Here do I swear by mouth and hand
Fealty and service to the King and Crown
Nearly three years with Tristram and then six more with Winks; a long time to be a squire.
To speak and to be silent
Nearly a decade doing her best learning to be an example - a paragon for the people.
To do and to let be
From all the fantastical adventures in Travance, the last few years serving in Kormyre seemed like a vacation.
To come and to go
Yet even still, when she closed her eyes, her heart twisted at the thought of Tristram still trapped in his cursed sleep.
To serve and to teach
Five years now, trapped in that nightmare...
In matters that concern this Realm
The tip of the blade touched her shoulder, and she knew well that sword; the one taken from Baliol.
In need or in plenty
She had taken that blade from him and turned it from a tool weighted with ambition into one wreathed in the passion of her desire to protect.
In peace or in war
With each vow she repeated, the fight to hold back her tears of joy and accomplishment waged.
In living or in dying
The blade fell to her other shoulder. This was the moment of all her work coming to fruition.
Until the King departs his throne
From this day she would be the shield, the protector, the person others could turn to that she had always dreamed about.
Death take me
She opened her eyes to see Aleister before her, sword in hand, and her knight, Winks, behind him beaming with pride.
Or the world end
Once more she opened her mouth to speak the oath to the nobility before her with renewed vigor and determination to her cause. So say I, Keladry Aybara
“Now rise… and be recognized!”
Tari
Peace began to wear on Tari, others appeared happy and relieved, they went on to have full lives. Tari on the other hand, she was left uneasy. Tari never trusted the peace and she was left weary with nothing to fight, and nothing to do. She began to spend more and more time with the Glomm clergy, particularly Cyan. He was all to happy to welcome her. Cyan reinforced to not trust the peace, to embrace the unease that she felt. Cyan spoke often about what he was, and what he could help her accomplish if only she would listen. Cyan began to speak of things, undead and power. At first Tari resisted, however as time went on, she began to listen. With peace continuing and no where for Tari to go, she began to wonder if white sorcery was even needed any longer…the world was peaceful, and there seemed to be nothing to defend the weave from.
One day Cyan came to Tari and said today was the day. He stated that it was time to follow in the family footsteps, it was time to become a lich. Cyan promised her that she could become a lich and still be like her great grandfather, Tari had learned a lot from Cennius over the years and thought the power boost could be useful. Cyan also reminded Tari that the peace would not last and when it did, something terrible would be coming and she had to be ready. Tari was reluctant to admit even to herself that there was a twinge of excitement, she had always wondered what the other side felt like, what no rules and no one to answer to. With one last breath, Cyan began the ritual.
Tari opened her eyes with a new sense of power. Looking around, it was like seeing the world for the first time. Tari smiled and slowly got up. Looking at Cyan, her expression said it all, why had she waited so long to do this? This was such a great feeling; Tari finally understood the draw and need for power.
Ilana: Breaking the Chain (Part 1) It did not end in a grand battle between whatever Aleister was expecting to become and Amatoth.
It did not end with VIM appearing, maybe being purged of the void corruption and making a last stand? It did not end in failure and the world being devoured. It just ended.
The odd calm that was felt hearing the news was a relief and a strain. Ilana knew she had placed a shackle on herself long ago with a promise she found so important. Now, she finally had a key, a chance to be rid of it for good. Well, there were other things weighing her down. The new tree that loomed in the distance stood between her and freedom. She whispered to Sam her thoughts of leaving but knew that she needed to continue her work in Pendarvin. Once she was rid of the strange creature that wailed unnaturally on particularly dark nights, she could begin plotting out her real adventure. Ilana unfurled the detailed map of the crater that surrounded the strange tree, the border that had been detailed by her dear vassals and the wall that was still in the process of being erected at the slope of an entrance that existed in the small cratered valley. There was clearly something in that mist, gnarled wood and bone. Fortunately, it did not leave the mist. Unfortunately, the mist ever so slightly spread and each darker night, the further it tried to press, retreating into place when the sun shined.
--- The first year was the hardest, some had expected things to be worst around Galladel’s Watch but it was just like any other evening. No, it seemed the dark was its interest and nothing about spirits. Ilana had prepared for Solstice, the longest night, the best she could but even she did not quite expect what happened. Fortunately, with less of the ‘world’ to worry about, she was able to put out a call and those eager adventurers with nothing to do meandered their way into Pendarvin the next Winter. With researching, planning, and probably a lot of luck, the next longest night was a much brilliant, violent battle. Maybe they had truly defeated the creature or simply beat it down. Ilana took the reprieve from the strange threat to prepare her own future plans but she delayed herself to not leave *too* soon, in case it came back. Pendarvin had been a relatively self-sufficient land and as they established their allies to the north, in the mountains, and rooted themselves in, Ilana was comfortable with her choice and let others know her interests of leaving in a few years.
With the new 'free time' Ilana began to work on a project she had always wished to but was always interrupted: The Gates of Passage. She reached out, seeing who was still around and still interested. decided to continue working on determining more of the dials and quirks of the interesting device. She had helped with it in the past and had a decent amount of knowledge, but was happy for any help offered. It seemed some of the old friendly faces were not around as much nowadays. Ilana knew that things did not just end. One day an answer of some kind would be found as to what actually happened. She could enjoy the time she had though. Maybe somewhere through the gates there was an answer. Maybe there was somewhere else that needed help, inheriting Arawyn's problem. Or, maybe there was just a new place to find.
Despite these preparations, Ilana kept herself available to Darkwood Academy, the Proper, whomever still hovered around the Barony and wanted an ear to listen to them or maybe a small light to reignite theirs. She knew one day she would carry her light elsewhere but, until then, she left her door open to any who would want to step in. She noticed over time, even before the tower had disappeared, there were less and less people who seemed to care. Maybe it would be a good time to leave, to keep the memory of people the way she enjoyed them instead of what they might become.
After she found someone she trusted to take her place, she would begin the adventure she had always wanted.
She had a lot of work to do.
Myrdiz Dar’hana had dutifully manned the clinic in Vadalis Crossroads as per Count Everest’s request for many years. the lack of dangers had led to many new emigrants to Travance, but also those who wanted to work the clinic. She trained a few, and then, knowing the passage was now well guarded from disease, travelled away from there, back to her homeland.
no bounty on her family under the newest leader, she felt confident she would be able to reclaim the family place in the new government. Hopefully Sir Cinder would still be at his father’s side.
Bitzzz had spent enough time following the banners of Duke Belial across the continent. Those of her kin who had joined him, sent to Enax. Those who worked for the human who brought dishonor to Galderon tried to hind, but she found many of them. He left behind so many of his devoted. They were delicious.
returning to Travance, she learned of the knight Winks, and how his grandfather was leading the army trying to depose those who allied with the stupid human.
Though he worships Galadell, he is a good, honorable kin. Galadell not wrong god, like Valos. Bitzzz will go to Galderan and offer her swords to those who want to being honor back to Galderan.
Allyce
Blood dripped down her forehead, obscuring her vision on the left side. Annoying.
Brushing her fingers over the trickle, she casually glanced at her hand to gauge the steadiness of the stream. Not bad. A typical head wound then likely. Not truly a concern, but still in this company not the best. Whispering under her breath, she mustered a bit of darkness to heal the wound and cleansed the blood from her skin smoothly and efficiently, careful to make no noise.
That fact addressed, she continued to monitor the situation. Two down, one up and moving with a slight limp on the right side. It, too, bled from the head and torso but much more slowly- but then, undead really didn't have a pulse much less blood flow. Still, not yet taken care of. Easily rectified.
Briskly, she proceeded to wrap the undead up in her magic and beheaded it. Releasing her magical bonds, she turned to review the situation, nodding her head as she determined this raid was finished. Nice, neat, complete. And before the rest arrived as well- but the witch hunters could deal with those. They kept complaining of boredom- they could clean up the mess. Besides, she had other things to take care of.
Turning her head, she viewed the small city she had helped found years ago- the inhabitants had no idea who she was but she added to their ranks from time to time.
"Slavery", she thought. "Not nearly as easy to deal with as vampires but just as satisfying."
Reminded of an appointment to keep, she pivoted on one foot and casually stepped through the portal that opened in midair for her. Emerging on the other side, she walked to her desk and checked her missives. Her bat flew around her face, but its movements were more satisfied than urgent and she spared it a fond glance. How strange it seemed to remember a time when she had hated magic and its uses- and now her bat was as much a part of her as her breath.
Overall, she decided, even losing the opportunity to help with Amatoth had barely affected her- she hadn't really had enough time to really get used to the idea before it seemed to have been taken care of. A part of her had been relieved while another part had regretted the disappearance. VIM vanishing seemed to her to be suitable- his task was done and she mentally saluted him as she had that day she felt him leave. As strange as others found it, she was happy for him- she had wondered before what would happen when his obsession was over. She still kept a thought for him but she had felt nothing since the day he left and so she felt sure that he was at rest. Glancing around her small domain, she rested her hands on her desktop for a moment. Maybe one day, she would be ready for the same.
Julia- Two Forward, Three Back Femurs were difficult to carve into engagement rings. This is what the most recent hunt had taught Julia. Damned idiot. Her pocket knife slipped yet again as she attempted to chisel away portions of the bone, causing her to grimace. Maybe it was the wrong kind of knife? The wrong kind of bone? No, maybe she should get an actually bloody craftsman to do this kind of damn--
As the blade dug into the gleaming white surface yet again, it hit an odd angle, causing the femur to crack and split in two. Julia exhaled through gritted teeth, her eyes shutting tight. The remnants of the bone hit the ground as she hurled them in frustration, kicking up a small cloud of dirt in a ring round her feet.
The familiar feelings of rage bubbled in her chest. Immediately making her flush red, threatening to swell even further as her ears buzzed and a series of small, phantom pains attacked her clavicle. Her hand clawed instinctually at a necklace that no longer lay around her throat. Not finding it, the panic rose. However, she was prepared for this. She counted her breaths, steady and even. Between them were mantras, taught to her by Damien. Some in common. Others in Celestial. Over and over, muttered in a forced calm whisper as she leant forward, over the knees brought up to her chest. In several seconds, the frustration died, the burning in her belly fading to nothing but a mild flame.
Shoulders slumping in relief, she revelled in the calm. The rage never lasted nearly as long these days. If she could nip it in the bud before it grew, that is. Julia glared at the remnants of the bone, sitting in the dusty dirt of the forest path. She glared at it like it had slighted her personally. Horribly. Why did people propose anyway? They had already been dating nearly six years. Why not stay there? She already had plenty of rings. Surely she could just give Nalick one of those. He was a bloody Andorran, after all. Why would he ever go for a ring made of bone, for gods’ sake? He wouldn’t. Right?
There wasn’t time to linger on this long, she decided. Twilight was beginning to fall, the sunlight casting its last, long shadows across the forest floor. The usual group of children was coming around tomorrow for another lesson. If she wanted to teach them proper shelter craftsmanship, she’d have to collect materials for them ahead of time. In her head, she quickly counted how many branches she’d have to collect so they could each have a lean-to of their own. Dammit. Being a teacher was hard. Looking down, she sighed at the body lying next to her. It was cold by now. Right. Burying it would have to come before any gathering. Julia groaned at the inconvenience, but stood and began dragging the man further into the woods. It’d be a long night.
Jackdaw - Bane of the Corrupt There was a cold silence in the Dragon’s Claw. The only sound Jackdaw could hear was the clack of his boots on the floor as he walked through it. Soft light from the occasional candle and the slowly dying fireplace left spots of orange glow throughout the otherwise darkened building. He had seen the building like this before, in the early hours of the morning just before the sun rose, when most of the town was sleeping off the latest battle. However this pre-dawn lull had lasted for months. Usually there was the occasional adventurer still awake, but now the building was just empty. After all of the work that had been done to see this town functional, the pieces began drifting away. It was quiet here, and Jackdaw abhorred the quiet. Travance it seemed had become distinctly dull.
By the end of the first year, in the most respectful way possible, he abandoned the responsibilities he had accepted to help ensure Travance kept running, and he began wandering. Quiet in Travance did not translate to quiet in the rest of the world. There was still evil, and terrible dangers, and that meant adventure and wealth. He rejoined the crew of the Winged Victory, and sailed to Sevenlore to test their mettle against the weavestorm. After barely escaping the Dreadiron fleet he saw to it that word of their activities made it to the right hero types. A few more adventures saw a few scrapes and death defying escapes (and maybe one or two deaths, but he’d apparently learned how to walk those off.)
By the end of the second year, he had a pile of treasures, and trophies from enemies defeated. The lack of Travance as a base of operations had made it clear that he and those who had been roped into his criminal enterprises would need some level of infrastructure. He began purchasing a few manors and estates dotted around the eastern side of the rift, and turning them into places to get supplies, and hide out. He built up contacts, and resources. It was draining funds, but one tended to commit crimes to gain the resources to commit bigger crimes. He still had friends that cared about laws that he wanted to stay in the good graces of. He still had Talaniel Starling who could deconstruct him with a glance. It became clear that he would have to be careful about who he targeted. However if he targeted people who deserved it not only would his allies cover for him, but the law would be less likely to come hunting him.
It was during the third year, while visiting Starling and getting into yet another deep discussion over dinner about the shape of the world, and how one could best help that he began to consider a new venture. Sure, there were no world ending events now, and the plethora of well intentioned heroes with nothing better to do were out and about stopping the easy to spot villainy. That meant a lot of hard to spot villainy was free to run rampant. People in power in Londwyn, Coast Haven, and even Kormyre who used their wealth and power to do what they liked, to hurt people that had no way to defend themselves, people the law had forgotten. Much as he didn’t like to admit it, Jackdaw was a person who cared, but he wasn’t good. He didn’t believe in doing what was right, he believed people should get what they deserved. That what you thought it was okay to do to others should be done to you. With a list of people in power who used that power to destroy others, he resolved to do the same to them. Not only steal from them, but to take everything. To take their money and power and see that it was used to help the people they hurt. To use the resources of vile people to destroy other vile people. This…. Was not a plan he could accomplish alone. He had always worked best with a team of heroes, and he knew a few people from Travance who would appreciate the work. A few invitations were sent out via letter, a few people were invited in person, a few just randomly showed up.
By the fourth year there was a small team of people directly working to undo the damage done to the world. There were even people still tied to official work who helped out when they could. This included getting a monastery to use as a safe house when things got bad. By the fifth year, the small group was locked into debate over who to focus on next. Now that the threats to Travance that no longer united them, there were former friends who warranted examination.
Magnus- without connection "...496" Magnus closed his eyes trying to reach out to Fiona, to tell him where he was needed next, as he lowered his body closer to the floor but there was no call to action. This has become a common occurrence, for months now Magnus had reached out to the power that once guided him with no response. His connection to the greater good had not weakened, he still had all the powers granted to paladins, but there was no direction given with it. "...497" Sweat dripped from his forehead hitting the cold stone floor of his home in the United territory of Corvancia. The territory he was sworn to protect was located underground situated between a major city of Deepholm and Travance. O.nce a lively place full of adventurers, now it was peaceful and quiet. His retainers scattered to the winds. His first knight was out looking for adventure by land, his second knight keeping peace on the seas, and his third he had not heard from in some time. Friends, council members and squires were all scattered across Aarwyn living their lives, yet magnus could not figure out what to do. "...498" Magnus' muscles strained realizing he has not seen the sun in almost a week, and he wasn't needed in the capitol for another week. He looked over at his tattered General's coat, a small layer of dust has begun to form over it. In the beginning he would spend a great deal of time in the Capitol playing the roll he always has, of the brutish commoner at the nobles table, making a scene so Alister could actually get some work done, but this has become less and less common. "...499" Magnus wondered if he should have just went with Astraea to the high elven capitol. Magnus paused for a brief second, the thought he just had tugged at something. What it tugged at magnus could no longer tell, but it was something he was once quiet familiar with. "...500" Magnus stood up from his prone position and reached for a towel to wipe off the sweat, his mind spinning with everything he had just considered. "Does this world even need a creature like me and more... no not creature, you are a person magnus, remember she said you are a person" He finished drying off and walked towards the bath, "maybe sneaking out with the good prince to drink at the dragons claw will remind me of that, you know for old times sake"
Year have gone by. Deepwood has fortified their position and Cyan has expanded his trade empire. Aliester gave command of part of the Glomm Legion over to Cyan to protect the southern boarder. Fortresses, outpost and castles are being built all over the area to control the lands. Cyan frequently is giving food and other items to the peasanty. Fel spends the years tending to their son Amir and spreading the word of Glomm through the province. Indigo spends times traveling with Ireni to various ports making deals and wielding the influance they as a church continmue to grow. Henchman travels between the southern fortifications and their main stronnghold. Training and preparing forces.
Indigo and Cyan stand on the battlements of Cyans shadow fortress looking over the area talking about next steps and plans in whispered tones.
"Its been three years since Glomm came and claimed Jed." Indigo states
"Yes and we are almost ready. Money pours in from around the world from trade and we never stopped preparing. Tari is now with us and feels much better about herself and he new state." Cyan states.
As they discuss further fortifications and militerization Addy shows up on the battlements.
"Your back Addy how was your trip?" Indigo askes. Her responce is to hand him a letter. He reads it and hands it over to Cyan to read as well. "Its all ready" Ingigo muses.
"Yes gather everyone. The fun is about to begin. Its been quite for way to long." Cyan responds. As they reenter the showdowy fortress on a wind swept ridge overlooking the Deepwood.
Ravani - Progress
A blue-haired elf walks into the back room of Galladelights Bakery, Auralion, Kaladonia, with a large rolled up parchment in hand. She clears off the kitchen's counter, moving mixing bowls and knives, before unraveling her treasure.
Ravani peers over the incredibly detailed map of the Barony of Travance, muttering to herself. "Pendarvin seems the most likely option? Lady Ilana is partial to our treats. She could be convinced very easily to give us prime real estate. She's the annoying honorable sort, but if we play this right, the promise of regular baked goods deliveries will only sound like an offer of friendship, not bribery." The elf taps a finger against her lips, deep in thought. "Stonefall could also have potential, but Elric needs to widen their line of blood treats before we start a branch there."
Ravani looks up, a smirk on her face, as she speaks to the starlight swan that forms out of mist and sits on top of the map. "First, the Proper. And then, all of Korymre. It's time for a new Empire. And a Bakery Empress!"
"MEEOOOOW."
Maria looked up from her book. “What?”
The housecat sized black panther stared at her pointedly from across the room.
"MEOOOW."
“Look, if you want attention you’re going to have to come over here,” she sighed. “I’m in the middle of something.”
The cat hopped up onto the windowsill. Following it with her eyes, Maria noticed past it the colors of the setting sun on the horizon. “Oh. Alright, alright, we’ll get a move on. I’ll finish my notations at home.” She stuffed the book into her satchel alongside the tarot deck that had been in her lap. She stood up with a slight wince. Her body protested from being curled up in a chair since lunch.
The sound of bells chimed in through the open window. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. It was getting late. She could always continue her studying at home. And she still had some shopping to do on the way. Political meetings ran long that morning, barring her from getting that done during her midday break. If she hurried, she could still get back before Darius finished dinner. A smile crossed her lips, and she flicked her left hand to get a bit of stray ink off the gold band on her ring finger.
She paused twice when walking out of her office, a few seconds apart, thinking a question in that direction just in case.
‘Hey love, I’m stopping by the market on my way home to pick up some extra birthday treats for Storm. Do you need anything?’
Annora - Family
The Drake Queen sat in front of her house on the outskirts of New Avondale, staring off into the swamps and watching two drake hatchlings play-wrestle. They really did grow up so fast, despite how slowly time was passing these days.
Annora had always been a loner, by fate rather than choice, but she saw other humanoids even less than usual lately. It seemed no one needed her skills now. Drega'mire, at this point, was an administrative entity and she had never had a talent for paperwork. Talaniel and Angelica had that well in hand, Annora was sure. Kanas had grown into his role as a traveling protector of the people so well, that she had faith the common folk had a stalwart defender to turn to.
Annora let out a deep, mopey sigh. In this new era of peace, with the Dark Clandestine and its aura of evil gone, she was a protector with nothing to protect.
Lost in her own thoughts, she misses the warning signs of chirps and a waving tail. One of the hatchlings charges and knocks her into the mud in its attempt to rub his face against her horns. Laughing, Annora shakes herself out and shifts from bipedal to quadrupedal form, before chirping back at the hatchling. Mock-snapping at him, she playfully chases him into the marshes, while the other hatchling begins attempting to grab her tail.
Grinning a lizard smile, Annora runs after the young ones. At least she had her family.
Adventure (Kanas Part 1)
It was midday. Kanas was sitting at a cafe table in the heart of Aliander with coffee in hand. He was watching a pair of minstrels entertaining the crowds coming and going, his foot tapping along with the beat. He used to do this back when he was adventuring in Travance. It helped him center himself. A reminder of the people he fought for. Not kings. Not great concepts beyond his ken. But for people, so that they can live out their lives happy and free. But things change. The great evil is no more. There’s peace. He was no longer needed in Travance.
With peace in Travance came peace within the kingdom as a whole. Kormyre was entering a state of stability, and while there was no sitting king on the throne there was a feeling of reassurance. The tension in the air was starting to dissipate, and he was able to breathe a sigh of relief. In a way, his purpose as a knight was complete. He helped Kormyre in its time of need, to find a way through the storm. But knighthood never truly suited him, and like the paladins of ages past, he knew it was time to step away. He’ll have words with Piper and Magnus. Point his squire in their direction. Axiana had served him for a few years now, and she has grown leaps and bounds since they started. He knew she was ready. He’ll give her the Queen’s Shield too. It belongs with the kingdom, not with him.
He wasn’t sure where he would end up after this. Part of him wanted to settle down. But he knew there’s always people in need and he’s never been the settling down type. He never liked staying in one place for too long and while Kormyre was nice there’s a whole world to explore. He didn’t know how much of the wanderlust was Fiona guiding him or was his own. He just knew to follow it. Though this time he didn’t want to do this alone.
Kanas’ afternoon date was to arrive any minute. He didn’t plan for this day to be special. It wasn’t an anniversary nor a holiday for them. It just felt right to do this now. He nervously played with a silver ring in his hand as he saw Laric walk through the crowd. Fiona grant me courage.
Verity E. Arkwright – Condolences
(CW: Death of family, emotional abuse) This was the third bouquet of flowers that had made its way into Verity’s hands this morning. She rubbed a thumb against the rough stem, somewhat perturbed and confused by the bundle of viscaria presented to her by some philistine clad in finery beyond his station. Bending gently at the knee, she laid the bouquet on the pew behind her, freeing up her hands to accept the barrage of apologies and melodramatic condolences that had plagued her for the past two hours. History is always written by the victor, or so she was told. Perhaps that explained the gilded tales of her mother that wafted from the mouths of the shifting crowd. They settled into the cathedral’s vaulted ceiling as a soft din, but the weight of their words pressed down on Verity’s shoulders. “You knew very well that the moment you set foot in that room, every eye would be upon you,” her mother scolded between clenched teeth, removing her jewel-encrusted hand from Verity’s shoulder. She towered over Verity, who found a child’s diadem rolling over her fidgeting fingers. The diadem vanished as a set of black shoes entered Verity’s vision. “My deepest condolences, Consul.” lamented the elderly, bespectacled elf before her. “She was always such a kind woman. Did excellent work for the children, such charity.” “By the Gods!” she spit, as though each word were a droplet of venom on her tongue, “I told them I had a trained lady-in-waiting. ‘Afraid’ has no place in your vocabulary. If I’d known you’d have referred to the host as ‘sir,’ I’d have sooner sent a donkey to give an appropriate introduction for our household.” Verity inhaled sharply, quickly punctuating the moment with a hasty smile. “Thank you for your kind words,” she replied. It felt so performative, but then again, wasn’t everything else? “I’m afr- I wouldn’t be where I am today without her guidance.” She paused. Would she? Here she stood today, a respected advisor, an unparalleled strategist, a diplomat known in her own right and sought after by a King’s Candidate -she ought to respond to that missive tonight - and surely the envy of her sisters. She’d made great strides in the circles her mother frequented and beyond, and yet... was this her success? More importantly, was this what success meant to her? Lady Arkwright soon realized she’d balled her gown into clenched fists. Wide eyed, she loosened her grip, fervently smoothing out the shimmering material. She sighed and straightened her back, looking more like a statue than the mother of the little girl before her. “Consider yourself lucky that this is a charity gala for the gentry, so I can make up for the damage you caused from that excuse of a conversation.” “I’m sure that right now, she’s looking down and smiling on you,” said the man, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his halfhearted smile. This wasn’t palliative, it was patronizing. “Death doesn’t bestow the mantle of a hero on the backs of those it welcomes,“ she thought to herself, “nor does it wash away a lifetime of misdeeds.” Fearing her thoughts may have betrayed her and escaped her lips, Verity looked back at the man, whose warm countenance remained unbothered. “Now, unless you want to continue making good on your commitment to being a malignant blemish on this family’s name, I suggest you go out there and convince every lord and lady of the court that I didn’t just lie to them about my daughter’s ability to conduct herself.” “I’m glad you share her faith in me.” After swallowing several additional sorries from the gentleman, she began to wonder if she were better suited to the screened side of a confessional box for these tirades. After all, this was for their sake, not her own. Eventually, he continued to his seat, satisfied with the pleasantries exchanged, and another took his place shortly after. Eventually, the throngs of people funneled past her and into their seats. Verity waited forever for silence to fall, and then solemnly approached the podium. The seats were filled, the air fresh and still. She didn’t look left, even though the silhouette of that box screamed for her attention. Her mother was right, she conceded, she was prepared for this moment. Time for an introduction. Her lips parted.
Axiana Lockmoore- Crossroads
Usually hard work and determination led to the realization of dreams and goals.
That didn’t seem to be the case for Axiana Lockmoore.
With what seemed like a single stroke of a pen, the ship was decommissioned and the Navy downsized. Her hands shook as she read the letter. Just like that; all the work she had done, what she had accomplished, erased by a single notice. This wasn’t sadness; this was anger. Her chance to become a captain and head her own ship dashed by the cold piece of parchment in her hands. Which isn’t to say her dreams were totally crushed; of course there were other ways to captain her own ship. But this felt different. She didn’t talk to anyone the rest of that day; in fact she didn’t remember most of it.
Two days later and she had effectively resigned. It's not like they would want to keep her around. Now all that was left was to make her next move and say goodbye. Saying goodbye to the crew was hard, but she managed. Packing was far easier; she didn't have very much to her name to begin with. All that was left was to tell the Captain.
She hadn’t even closed the door to her quarters before coming face to face with Albine Duchamp, leaning up against the creaking wood of the ship. Startled and face a bit red, she offered the chief the best smile she could muster. “I wasn’t aware you were there Duchamp.” Axiana stated plainly. Duchamp simply nodded and, with a raised eyebrow, gestured to the packed bag resting on Axiana’s bed.
“So, you’re off as well. Have you told the Captain yet?” Duchamp inquired.
Axiana shook her head, “ No, I was on my way to tell him now.” She pauses for a long time, staring at her fellow sailor. “Albine, it’s been an honor serving with you. And thank you for putting your trust in me. I wish you only the best going forward,” she flashes her a brief lopsided smile, “And who knows? Perhaps our paths will cross again. It’s been far too long since my last trip to Coast Haven.”
Duchamp offers Axiana a rueful smile in return. “It was an honor to fight by your side. Take care of yourself out there Axiana. And good luck." Axiana stuck her hand out to clasp Duchamp's and while the other woman reciprocated, she soon pulled the young lieutenant into a hug. They parted ways not long after.
She found him in his quarters, door open as he stood overlooking the port from his window. Announcing her approach with a knock on the door frame, Cobus turns around to face her. It was not hard to tell how the Captain was taking the news. It was one thing to have had all his hard work be for naught, but it was another thing entirely to watch as his close knit crew had the rug pulled out from under them. It wasn’t an easy thing to accept for any of them.
Seeing the look on her face, he could easily tell where this conversation was heading as his features dropped. "XO, I was wondering when you would come around. Planning on staying until the end?" He asks, but she knows he already knows her answer.
“No,” she shook her head and offered him a small, somber smile, “No I'm afraid I won’t be sticking around to watch as the axe drops. I already bid Duchamp, Moran, Collins and the crew farewell. You were the last on my stop, sir.” She pauses for a moment before continuing, “I got my affairs in order ahead of time. There doesn’t really seem to be a need for plucky, chaotic lieutenants right now. And we both know how bad I am at clerical work.” she says with a small laugh in a failed attempt to lighten the mood.
With her laugh dying down her face takes on a more serious expression. Reaching her closed fist out, she opens it, revealing her crossed pistol pins.
“Since I’m no longer-”
Cobus shuts her down quickly with a shake of his head. "No. You've earned those, Axiana. They were not given freely. Keep them with you, they can serve as a reminder. You said it yourself, you're far better where you are than where you have been. Remember that."
"I...thank you, sir." Is all she can say as she places her pins into her jacket pocket. There is a very long silence between the pair. "You've taught me some valuable lessons over these past years. And I couldn't ask for a better friend. Please be good to yourself, sir. I can't always be watching your back now can I? You've got a lot of people who care about you out there." She laughs.
He chuckles at her response. "Well you're still my XO, after all, peace be damned. You be good to yourself out there as well, Axiana."
Axiana nods her head. "I'll be okay. Always am." She snaps him one final salute. "It's been an honor, Cobus."
Cobus returns her salute. "The honor has been all mine, Axiana." The two linger here for a moment before she heads back towards the door.
"Be proud of the leader you have become."
Back in her quarters, she pens a quick letter to send before she heads out. Once the writing is complete, she grabs her bag and takes one last look at the quarters she has called home the past several years. The only place stable enough for her to call home; the first place she could call her own.
And with a deep breath, she departs, leaving behind the life she had known for what could only be an unsure future.
Kanas,
It seems that with peace brings me more time to dedicate to being your squire, on a more permanent basis. I’ll be making my way to Alieander this evening. I will see you in a few days time.
Lieu
Axiana Lockmoore