Chapter 5

The Group Prepares to Go to Fallowfield
Minerva has been busy the past two days reaching out to Lyriad volunteers and explaining the events of the past few days... carefully omitting a few details, naturally.

She has requested the party meet her for lunch within the Lyriad's headquarters.

Heather has settled down to work with her friend, who also managed to put the finishing touches on a certain sweet-ass belt.

Minerva is seated at the table, speaking quietly to Elise as Oren enters. The young healer is also seated.

Minerva smiles as Oren arrives. "Hi, Oren. Thanks for coming."

Elise gives the mage a warm smile as well.

He sits down quietly across from them, failing to return their greetings.

Elise fails to get the hint and gets out of her seat to sit next to him. "I was thinking... We really only made it here because your magic warned us about danger that might have been on the road! You must be an incredibly powerful mage..."

While they speak, Eliam comes downstairs and joins them. Minerva waves at Eliam as he nears the table. "Good of you to join us, Eliam. Thank you."

Oren shakes his head. "Not really."

Elise's mouth forms a small 'o' as she looks wondrously at Oren. In an undertone, she whispers, "Only the strongest mages are humble about it..."

Minerva sets the table with meats, cheeses, breads, and cold ales. "I do so hope Votig will be here soon... It would be a shame if the beer got warm."

"Eliam is a much better mage than me,” Oren tries to deflect. “He has natural skill, he's really talented without studying"

The bard laughs at what is clearly a joke. "Let's not give them the wrong idea! I can do some basic spells but you're definitely the one to go to if you want magic done."

"Well, I was hoping to go to all of you," Minerva says, sitting and popping some cheese into her mouth. "We've had plans to go to Fallowfield. I think things have settled enough here that it's time to take that trip."

"Yes. We should go, we have a lot to do there," Oren agrees.

"What do you know of Fallowfield?" Minerva asks, looking at Elise.

Elise shrugs, then begins to speak with a dreamy tone. "It's the high holy seat of Sylvatir. Priests and monks pray there to the Maker in thanks for sparing our country in ancient times. They also reaffirm the Council's divine right to rule annually. It's not really that interesting." She tilts her head back and looks up, frowning slightly.

Minerva adds, "They also hold records of all the old myths and legends... or histories, for those things which might be more real than myths or legends might suggest." She slowly offers a significant look at Eliam and Oren in turn.

"You mean the wellspring," Elise says simply.

"N-no," Minerva says, lying pitifully. Her shoulders sag. "Okay, yes."

"Well, at least this will be a fun trip," Elise says. "Get to Fallowfield, learn about the wellsprings, and find our way to Thirshalon." She says this last bit without a hint of self-consciousness.

"Aren't you excited?" she asks, looking at Oren and Eliam.

"Yes,” Oren nods. “We can help cure Votig of his curse too. Has anyone seen him?  He left when we got here and hasn't been back..."

"I invited him," Minerva says, drinking from her ale. "I hope he's here, soon. I'd hate to have to drink his for him..."

As if on cue, Votig throws open the doors. "AH LADDIES! I FEEL LIKE I HAVENT SEEN YE IN AGES." He sits with Oren and Eliam, Chompy following at his heels.

"Oh hi,” Oren greets him politely. “We were just wondering where you were."

"Good to see you, too, Votig," Minerva smiles. She pats Chompy warmly. "And you, of course." Chompy snaps excitedly and cuddles into her hand.

"We were just discussing going to Fallowfield," Minerva says. "Thoughts?"

"Wait... is that your new belt?" Eliam asks Votig.

"Ah, ye. Oren wanted to research goin' to thirshaloo, aye?" Votig says cheerfully. "Why yes it is! I knew ye were a lad of fine taste." Votig hops up onto the table, showing it off. The belt resembles a boxer's belt, with a preserved rhino horn at the center. Lettering around the edge reads “world class rhino puncher”.

"That's amazing" Eliam says.

Oren looks at Minerva. "What's the best way to Fallowfield?"

"The fastest route would be to travel the road southeast. It would take three or four days depending on how fast we move. The danger is that we'd have to go right past the capitol, Siraj... The Council themselves sit there so orcs are always patrolling and looking for excuses to swing their fists," she replies.

"Alternatively, we could drive the wagon southeast through the field in more of a straight line; it would take a couple of extra days and be less comfortable, but odds are we'd be much safer."

"Will they bother us?” Oren asks. “We're not criminals, maybe they'll let us pass through.”

Minerva's face grows dark. "Maybe. Maybe not. Remember, a crime could be that we breathed too loudly. That our wheel wasn't the right shape. That we had apples they wanted."

"I mean, we could just fight them off, right? We've gotten pretty good at it," Eliam says.

"We have a world class rhino puncher with us, it might be alright..." Oren adds.

"We gotta keep up the practice, yeh? Been too long without a fight," Votig says.

"...But we should avoid attention too" Oren continues.

"What's the worst that could happen, lad?"

"We all die," Elise says casually.

Minerva looks at her with concern. Elise responds, "Well, it's the worst that could happen."

"You're not wrong," Eliam shrugs.

"Exactly! So that's settled then, yeh? We fight," Votig decides.

"No, avoiding a fight is better than winning one," Oren replies.

"Perhaps we should vote," Minerva says. "I'm happy to risk the road; I'm sure we can kill and outrun some orcs if we have to."

Elise says, "I think discretion is the best choice of all. We should take the field."

"I vote road. No orc ever stopped me before," Votig says. "And Chompy agrees."

"Either route is fine with me. Sounds like the road is popular though," Eliam says.

"That officer named Ish'an is looking for us. If we fight more police we may attract attention.  Then they might trace us to Fallowfield. Shouldn't we avoid them?" Oren asks.

"He been lookin' fer us fer awhile and still hasn't found us,” Votig says.

"He followed us to Saloria and will be on the way back here by now,” Oren points out. “If he hears we went that way but didn't stop at the capital he'll know where we went. There aren't a lot of options and he'll know what happened at the wellspring. He knows what we look like so it won't take long for him to find us there."

"We'll just beat him then too, right? I mean, we haven't lost a fight yet,” Eliam says.

Oren picks at his food and shrugs. "You guys decide. I don't mind, I just want to get there."

"Then it's settled then, aye? The road," Votig says agreeably.

"Works for me,” Eliam says. “I'm sure it will work out fine.”

"Okay," says Minerva. "We'll travel by road. I'll get the wagon set. If there's anything you want to do or anyone you want to speak to before we leave tomorrow morning, do it today."

"I guess this is goodbye for now, eh Elise? Was nice havin' ye and yer sister along.”

Elise looks puzzled. "Oh, will you not be coming with us? Well, thank you for your excellent driving to get us this far, Votig. I'll miss you!" And she hugs him before he can respond.

"Wait, Votig is coming with us..." Oren says, looking confused and concerned.

"Oh, is it a game, then? I see! Yes... 'Goodbye' to you, too, Votig!" Elise continues.

"I think he means you aren't coming with us, Elise,” Eliam clarifies. “But uh... wait, what about all the prophecy stuff? And the vision from the well?"

"Oh, that would be weird. I'm certainly joining you," Elise says confidently.

Oren shrugs. "It doesn't matter, there's room in the wagon."

"This be our fight, lass, not yers. Ye and yer sister would be safer stayin' here, I reckon."

"Your fight doesn't interest me," she says airily. "I've got my own reasons for visiting."

"What reasons are those?" Eliam asks.

She shrugs. "I'm not sure. Perhaps the wind will tell me one day."

"Well, I respect yer sister too much to risk havin' ye hurt by gettin' caught up in our fight. Plus ya should stay with yer family, a kid yer age shouldn't be runnin' off with these orcs about."

Oren sighs. "Is your sister coming?"

"You can ask her, but she seems quite happy settling into work here,” Elise answers. “I think she'll stay."

Eliam frowns, and looks at her. "The well wasn't really clear... for all we know it was warning us to stay away from you."

Elise smiles. "Well, it's a good thing you'll be around to keep an eye on me, then. I'll go feed the horses," she says, "and make sure they're ready for tomorrow." She walks from the room, head tilted back.

"I don't see the problem, she can keep Minerva company,” Oren says once she's left. “She doesn't like us anyway so it'll give her someone to talk to."

"I've got enough to handle watchin' after you lads, and lil' Chompy. I can't be addin' more to that list."

"Then let her die, she's not your responsibility." Oren says, getting up and returning to his room. Votig remains downstairs to finish the food, and Eliam leaves to see what the bars have to offer.

Minerva sits speechless as the group leaves. She's hurt from Oren's words.

The Group is Stopped by some Orcs
The party saddles up the wagon and leaves early the next morning. Despite a last minute attempt by Votig, Elise joins the group and accompanies them on their travels. Two days of riding on the road pass uneventfully. By the third morning, they approach Siraj.

Minerva has been oddly quiet, though kind, for the journey thus far.

As the group approaches the capitol, the road becomes increasingly backed up with traffic. Wagons and travelers are stuck in a line one behind the other...

Minerva cranes her head up over the line of wagons. "Hard to see what's going on up there..."

"Maybe one of ya should check it out," Votig suggests.

Oren looks at Eliam as if to say 'not it,' and begins to cast, searching for the items he's marked. He detects Elise's staff three feet to his right, and Samson's axe about a two hours' caravan ride on the road behind them.

"Ish'an is behind us,” Oren tells Minerva. “That is, if he has your father's axe. He's about two hours from us. Maybe we can hide..." he looks outside the wagon, assessing the landcape. There is only grassland to the left and right of the road; he sees no obvious avenue for concealment. Quietly, he sits back down.

Eliam begrudgingly steps out to see what he can see on the road, staying close to the wagon.

The road ahead is lined with wagons. A few orcs are pausing at each wagon to speak to the driver. Occasionally, one of the orcs will take something from the wagon's hold. Sometimes the driver notices; sometimes they do not. The orcs are presently about ten wagons ahead on the road, and moving backward gradually.

Minerva catches sight of the orcs and discerns their intentions. "They're robbing caravans on the way by. If we're going to stay here, we should try to hide anything we don't care to risk losing."

Elise leans back against the interior side of the wagon, gazing skyward, lost in thought. She snaps out of her reverie to state, "There's a small hold beneath the seats they might not check, but it won't hold much."

Half an hour passes. The orcs have been speaking with each caravan, liberating some items, before finally reaching the wagon. There are five of them. Two stop just beside the driver's seat, while the other three flank around the rear and sides of the wagon, watching. One of the orcs, bored, speaks to Votig in the front. "Where?"

"Wherever the road takes us, lad,” Votig answers him. “Just a travelin' group o' performers. Y'see our bard? Why, he played for the mayor of Saloria. He's quite famous."

The orc steps up on the wheel to look into the back to confirm Votig's story. He looks at Oren. "Bard?"

Oren points at Eliam, who glares at him in return.

The orc shifts his gaze. "Bard? Play."

Eliam grabs his lute nervously. "Well, I can't perform alone. It can only truly be experienced with everyone else's performance as well. The dwarf is quite the dancer, you know. He's the true star of our performances."

Elise tilts her head. "Oh, but you have played for so long! I'm sure you could make such a wonderful melody for us. Do play!"

"I'm sure they'd much rather see the real star show off! Come on, Votig,” Eliam says with a laugh.

"Can't dance without music, lad, d'ye think I'm a savage?"

The orc at the rear of the wagon steps up on the back of the vehicle. He grabs the frame of the roof to steady himself, and puts his other hand on the end of Elise's staff, which she is currently clutching. She immediately blanches. The orc says, "The captain asked for music. You pay in music or you pay in possessions."

Elise looks with desperation at Eliam. Minerva's hand is subtly inching toward her dagger. They wait for someone to make a move.

"Why?" Oren asks the orc.

"Hey now, no need for threats,” the bard says. “But you know... it's hard to play under this much pressure. You can't expect good music when you pressure us like this.”

Eliam sings a rhythmic and guttural bar tavern opus that tells of tales and ales, and the orcs tap their massive toes and adopt dim grins on their faces. The orc captain at the front is bobbing his head. As he listens to Eliam sing, he notices Chompy and goes to pat the lizard. Chompy is a little nervous at this massive stranger dropping a giant hand out of the sky at him. He nips at the orc's fingers, scratching one slightly. The orc examines his hand, then guffaws and labels Chompy a fighter.

Eliam sings The Tale of the Dwarven Isle.

"The strangest thing I ever had to see; It came to pass the day I set sail north. Where naught but silv'ry ocean should there be There was an island and on it, a dwarf.

'Ahoy!' said I, from waves and oceans blue, 'Ahoy!' said he, from paradise alone. 'This doesn't seem like quite the place for you,' I said. He laughed, 'My skills, I come to hone.'

That dwarf, he stole away amidst the night To dwell amongst the salt and sea and brine For only he was gifted with the sight T'see ocean waves and dwarven ale entwined.

So drain your pints and sing a bolstered tune The ocean's grog has risen with the moon."

As Eliam sings the final notes, the orcs, amazingly, grunt noises of approval. Minerva looks very confused.

The orc at the back of the wagon, spouting a large, toothless grin, spits, "Again." His hold on Elise's staff has not been released.

Eliam complies, surprised at his own success as well.

The orcs are noticeably less impressed this time around, but they still seem somewhat appeased. The captain at the front says, "Song was good. Lizard's fun. Your payment has been satisfied for me. Boys?" Three of the orcs move back to the front of the wagon with their captain. The only one who hasn't moved is the one at the back gripping Elise's staff.

He shrugs with a nasty smile. "I said music or possessions. You chose music. Now you pay one possession, not many. Give staff."

"Why?" Oren asks the orc again.

"Listen here lad,” Votig addresses the orc seriously. “We gave multiple songs. The way I see it, we're even. One song one possession, or two songs, yeh? Fair's fair."

The orc at the back says, "One music twice is still one music. Just repeated. Staff." In responds, Oren takes out his morningstar and offers it to the orc instead.

"That's called an encore. Like I said, he's famous, right? Known across the land. Normally ya gotta tip pretty big for one of those. It's a pretty even trade." Votig's words have reached the orcs, who now wave him on to the open road ahead. The four orcs begin to walk back to the next wagon in line. They gesture for the last orc to follow as they walk away.

"Eliam that was some good singing, I think. I didn't know you were a professional,” Oren says as he puts his mace back. “And Votig can dance. Hopefully we can see that someday..."

"No kidding!” Eliam says, assuming the mage is trying to continue their lie. “Too bad they didn't ask him for a performance."

The fifth orc, however, is insistent. His captain has given him no orders, just a suggestion, and so he chooses to press the issue. With a savage grin, he lets go of the caravan roof, and pushes off from Elise with his free hand. The staff comes free from her hands and the orc carries it down with him to the ground. Elise lands heavily on her seat in the caravan.

Oren quickly hops down to him, mace in hand, ready to offer a trade once again.

Minerva is set to move but surprisingly, Elise is faster. Those of the party who are magically inclined feel aether concentrating around them. The young healer's body glows with a purple aura, and she growls, "That's mine." Elise kicks off the back of the caravan as her body seems to fade. Half-visible, she launches herself like an arrow toward the orc. Her hand closes on the staff but her body doesn't slow down; before anyone can blink, they witness her pass straight through the orc; the staff has faded and is pulled through with her. She kicks off the ground, turns and leaps back onto the rear of the caravan.

"GO," she shouts at Votig as she reaches down to offer Oren a hand back up. Oren accepts her hand after a brief pause, and returns to a seat, careful to sit away from Elise.

"Nothin' but trouble," Votig grumbles to himself as he presses the horses onwards, "after all I did tryin' to get us out of that..."

Eliam stares at the healer, then turns to Minerva, trying to see if she knew what she was capable of. As the caravan ramps up into motion, a few of the orcs half-heartedly pursue but they are quickly beaten out by the speed of the horses. A tense minute passes as the wagon picks up speed and the orcs begin to move further and further away. Finally, they are far enough in the distance that the party is able to breathe a sigh of relief.

As soon as she sees that they are far away, Elise immediately turns to Oren with misty eyes. She says, "You went in without hesitation just for me... for my staff. Thank you, Oren." She kisses him on the cheek, then sits next to him and leans into him as she clenches her staff to her body with her arms. She looks up to the clouds as the caravan travels and in that moment, before anyone says anything, she looks as happy and as content as you have ever seen anyone.

As she leans against him, Oren looks uncomfortable and confused.

Eliam continues to stare at her. "What?"

Minerva says, "Yeah, what Eliam said."

"Eliam did all the singing..." Oren tries to deflect Elise's attention away, scooting away from her towards the bard.

Elise continues her lean at a lower angle. She hasn't seemed to notice, yet, that anyone has asked something of her.

The barred, undeterred, repeats himself. "No, I... what? What did you do back there?"

Elise sits up, realizing Oren has moved, and looks puzzled. "W-what do you mean?"

"With the magic. What was that?" Eliam asks.

For the first time, she takes her eyes from the cloud and looks groundward. "I'm... I'm not really sure. Can you not do that?"

Eliam glances at Oren, wondering if this is a normal mage spell. He shakes his head no.

"Maybe the clouds just like me," she says airily, then goes back to looking at the sky. Minerva sends a meaningful look toward Oren and Eliam.

The two days pass uneventfully. Elise attempts to sit by Oren a few more times than random chance would allow, and Oren nervously looks for alternative seating places that Elise would not be able to join him in. Eliam quietly picks at his lute, wondering if maybe he should pursue a career on stage, and Votig takes occasional naps while letting Chompy take the reins.

The Group Arrives at Fallowfield
Toward the end of the second day, the party begins to see the outskirts of Fallowfield. Linea, before you left, told everyone that the high church of Fallowfield is located on a large cliff which overlooks the water. It is there, she believes, that any answers you seek would be found. The church is accustomed to travelers and pilgrims and so offers lodging for those visiting.

Upon arriving at the Holy Church of Fallowfield, the group is stunned to see the size and grandeur of the location. The church is a veritable ancient castle, with massive stained glass windows and walls of thick stone. Above the entrance, the largest stained glass of all rests, containing an image of the skyglyph. There is a silence which permeates this place; it is as though sound is absorbed into these walls, rather than echoing off of them.

"Now this would be a place to get our army goin'," Votig says as they approach.

Robed monks tread softly in and out of various rooms and doorways; it seems impossible, at first glance, to imagine knowing where they all lead. Minerva nervously glances around. "I wouldn't even joke, Votig. I feel watched. Listened to."

"Well," Elise says, "It is a church. Wouldn't the Maker be listening?"

"Yes," Minerva answers dryly. "The magic invisible skyman is listening."

"Well, there you go," says Elise innocently.

A monk notices the party's arrival and walks over to the caravan. He bows. "Greeting, travelers. May the Maker shine upon your steps this day."

"Where's your library?" Oren asks, wasting no time.

"Enter the building and take the eastern wing. Follow it to the end of the hallway, take the stairs up, then enter the third door on the left," he answers effortlessly.

Oren quietly follows his directions. Elise tags along, following him closely. "Eliam really wanted to hang out with you today, you shouldn't be rude," he says, stopping to try to convince her to leave him alone.

"Oh, did he?" says Elise. "I'll have to make sure I spend some time with him when we get back..."

"Uh, sir," says the monk, "I should point out that much of our library is restricted unless you have a letter of introduction."

"Oh, wait, Oren. Do you have a letter?" asks Elise.

Minerva says, "I think Linea gave us something, didn't she? Oren, before you go, check the back of the caravan. There should be a letter in a white envelope. An introduction from Linea should be more than enough; she studied here for a time many years ago." Minerva gestures toward the caravan. "I think it's in the front pocket of my bag, next to Elise's." Oren ignores them all, and walks off towards the library.

Eliam shrugs at the monk apologetically. "I'll go and get it. Sorry. I promise you we do have a letter. Minerva can explain more if you need."

He steps away to the back of the wagon, and begins searching through the party's possessions. As his search proves unsuccessful, he shouts, "did you even bring a bag?!"

"Yes,” Minerva shouts back, “it's the brown one under the bench!"

"Which bench?" shouts Eliam. "The one on the right!" replies Minerva.

The bard continues his fruitless search. "It's not under here!" shouts Eliam. "Try your other right!" answers Minerva with slight exasperation.

Frustrated, Eliam finally finds the appropriate bag. As he goes to open it, he finds a white envelope on the ground a foot away from it. He assumes it must have jostled loose during the drive.

Before picking up the envelope, Eliam takes the opportunity to check Elise's bag for anything suspicious. He finds some food rations, a book about clouds, some spare clothes, some cloths he doesn't recognize, and a hairbrush.

"Eliam, what's taking so long?" Minerva calls from outside. "Do you need me to come help?"

Not wanting to risk getting caught, he takes the letter from the floor and returns to Minerva.

"Thank you, Eliam,” Minerva says. “Oren and Elise have already gone off to the library. Can you take this up to them? I'll help Votig park and we can join you after."

"Of course! And if you need anything else, you can always ask," Eliam says cheerfully as he heads up the steps.

The monk guides Minerva and Votig to a place where they can park their wagon, and gives them keys for some rooms to stay in. The rooms are spacious so they offer a room for Votig, Oren, and Eliam, and a second room for Elise and Minerva. The monks offer to move the luggage up to their rooms as well, and Minerva sees no reason to refuse.

As the monk takes the bags, Votig leans in close. "What kinda beer's yer town famous for, lad? I'm sure ye monks got yer own brews."

"None is kept in the church, sir, but there is a pub down the road. We ask only that you return of sound enough mind to be quiet and respectful, and refrain from urinating on the geraniums."

"Hey," Minerva says to Votig, "How about we pass on the keys and make sure the others know where the rooms are, and then we can head down for a drink or three."

"We? I figured ye'd be goin' to the library for a night of readin' and disappointment," he answers.

Minerva cocks an eyebrow. "Why, Votig, if I wanted to be disappointed, I'd ask you to keep up with me in drinks." She walks off to the library. "Come on, this won't take but five minutes."

Minerva and Votig arrive in the library shortly after Eliam. A monk is explaining to Oren and Elise why they cannot access most of the library's texts. It seems the bard has not yet had a moment to reveal the letter. "Sorry for the wait,” he says, holding the paper out to the monk. “As you can see we have a valid letter of introduction.”

The librarian monk receives the envelope and opens it delicately. He takes a moment to read it carefully, then looks back and forth between Elise and Minerva. He looks back down at the letter, then up at the two women again.

Down, up. It's almost comical.

He immediately turns and walks away from the party, wordlessly.

Oren quickly walks past him, and walks to the section of books he hopes contains a book on Thirshalon. The monk nods at a guard standing in the hall outside the door. The guard pulls the heavy wooden door closed. There is a large thud.

Oren looks around, gathering books on Thirshalon, the wellsprings, the chosen Children prophecy, and removing curses. He throws the books that look promising haphazardly at Elise, who takes them happily.

The monk begins to pull on a rope next to the door. A deep, low bell begins resounding throughout the hallways of the church.

Minerva says, "So... now that you're good, Votig and I are going to go for drinks up the road, I think. We have some rooms here in the church."

Eliam notices no one else is worried about the monk's behavior, finds a seat and tries to take a nap, ignoring the books.

Oren continues his search. Oren finds a book titled, "Thirshalon: The Ancient Scourge" I'll just keep grabbing books that seem relevant until Elise and I can't carry more And go sit near Eliam And start reading the first one I guess

Minerva, message delivered, says, "Okay, Votig. Are you ready for beer?"

"Aye. Yer goin' down, lass."

"Bring it," Minerva answers. She moves to the door and pushes. It won't budge. The bell continues to ring throughout the church.

Oren skims the books he's found. "I thought it was supposed to be quiet around here,” Eliam comments.

Minerva makes eye contact with Votig. "It's locked."

The monk who you gave the letter to is standing beside you, continuing to ring the bell.

"What? That's silly. Try it again lass," Votig tells Minerva.

She pushes on the door. It doesn't budge. "Perhaps the mighty boxer would like to open it?"

Eliam gives the monk ringing the bell an annoyed look as he continues to disturb his nap.

Votig withdraws his fist, which glows golden. He barely hears the monk scream, "Stop!" before he launches his assault and waves of golden energy ripple across the door. The waves spike through it and fracture it. The door cracks, but stands. The monk moves to stand between Votig and the door. "I assume, with power such as that, that you are Votig."

"A fan, eh? If ya want autographs, ya need only ask."

"Not exactly, Votig. You were mentioned by name." The monk looks at Minerva. "As were you... maybe. Are you Elise?"

Minerva shakes her head, her brows furrowed. "No. How do you know those names? And why is the door locked?"

"You have much to discuss with the Holy Seat," says the monk, "if your letter is true."

"Wait... what was in that letter, exactly?" Eliam asks, nervously.

The monk narrows his eyes. "Well, it wasn't a letter of introduction, that's for certain." The monk hands the letter to Votig. "It is addressed to you from a 'Heather.'" He takes it and reads it.

"What does it say?" Eliam asks, standing and walking over to the dwarf. He fails to answer, quickly folding the note and putting it in his pouch. "This holy seat of yers. Do they have beer?"

The Group Meets Prilla
In the stonework of the wall, there is a small metal slat at eye level which opens sideways. It slides open and a kind face appears behind it. "I do not," says the woman standing behind it, "but I am on excellent terms with the barman up the road."

The monk bows his head at the woman and intones, "Holy Prilla, you grace us."

"I thank you for your diligence," she responds. "For what purpose have you summoned me?"

The monk's eyes are wide. "I believe... I believe someone has survived the waters of a wellspring."

The holy seat's eyes retain their gentleness, though a trace of skepticism passes through them. "What causes you to believe this, my child?"

"This man possesses a letter which indicates their companion, named Elise, drank of the waters. And it's possible they all have," he adds looking with awe at all of them."

Minerva hides an expression of concern behind an expression of doubt. "That's preposterous. Wellsprings don't even exist... do they?"

"You are among friends, child," responds the Holy Seat. "Do not fear those who seek only to improve the world through their faith. Monks, open the door and fetch beverages from the alehouse for our friends. I assume they will be thirsty before our conversation is complete..."

Elise, having heard her name, has come walking over from where she was working with Oren. "Were you talking about me?"

"Ye should mind yer own business monk, about the contents of that letter,” Votig says angrily. “It was not meant for ye."

Eliam leans over to Minerva, and whispers quietly, "the letter you wanted me to get... it was in a small white envelope, right? Maybe on the floor of the caravan?"

"No, I told you, a small white envelope in my bag. It was zipped up tight, it couldn't have fallen out," she answers.

"Oh... right. Of course."

Minerva looks Eliam over. "You grabbed the wrong letter, didn't you."

"Votig parked the wagon in the dark! It was hard to see or find anything back there," Eliam protests.

“It's my fault, too,” Minerva says. “I should have opened it when you brought it to me. I wonder what it says..."

"We could always ask Votig later.”

The monk responds to the dwarf, "My business is the business of the good of all the souls on Sylvatir. The contents of that letter affect us all."

The Holy Seat has the door unbarred from the other side and examines the door carefully. "Goodness. Who managed to strike the door thus?"

"It was like that when we got here," Votig says quickly.

The monk sighs. "It was Votig, ma'am."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, child," Prilla smiles. "Such strength is admirable, so long as it is always turned toward a good cause. The ale is on the way. Would you join me for a drink?" She seats herself at one of the library tables and smiles serenely.

Oren briefly looks up, but ignores her and continues his research.

The dwarf steps forward and takes a seat. "I suppose that would depend on whether or not ye call me child again."

"Oh, do forgive me," Prilla says, inclining her head toward Votig. "Once you reach a certain age, you tend to remember only a few words. So," she says, resting her hands on the table, "your dear friend has supped from the waters of the wellspring, I hear? That's quite the miracle. Blessings to the Maker that she is all right. Could you, perhaps, share with me the story?"

"To be honest, we don't know much about it. We only met her fairly recently, and she hasn't spoken of such things to us," Eliam answers.

"Aye, she survived it,” Votig responds. “I don't reckon how the rest of it matters much past that."

Elise tilts her head. "Wait, who? Who drank from a wellspring?" She looks at Minerva. "You met them recently, right?" She gasps. "Did you drink from a wellspring?!"

Minerva smiles somewhat sadly and puts an arm around her shoulders. "Oh, sweetie... perhaps we should sit."

The Holy Seat says, "It matters because our faith tells us only of one group of people who can touch the aetheric waters of a wellspring and survive: the children."

"It is said that once in a thousand years, there are born children of destiny who herald a time of great change and progress in our world. If your friend has done so, we must consider that she is one of the legendary children born to us again."

"That just sounds like a foolish prophecy,” Votig interjects. “Once in a thousand years? Wouldn't they have to born at the same time then? Seems improbable to me."

"No, not necessarily," Prilla responds. "We have records of the children being born as much as a hundred years apart from each other, but they always seem to be alive on our world simultaneously approximately a thousand years apart. It is not exact and certainly figurative... it may even be hyperbolic, as religious doctrine sometimes tends to be." The monk in the room seems scandalized to hear her say this but she takes no mind.

"I must ask," the Holy Seat says, "do you know of any others who have tasted or touched the wellspring's waters in any way? It could be vitally important to our world."

Minerva is fighting to hold back words. She looks from Votig to Eliam. The bard looks at Votig, waiting for him to decide what they share. Elise is white and looks scared.

Votig reaches down to Chompy, sending him to Elise as a distraction. He looks Minerva straight in the eye. “Nay, in fact, I haven't even heard of the wellsprings until today. Much less heard of someone survivin' it.” Elise scoops up Chompy in her arms and sits near Prilla. For once she is intently watching the conversation.

Minerva looks at Votig and subtly tilts her head in the tiniest nod.

"Perhaps," Prilla says, "It is time for us to ascertain the truth of the letter, should any there be. Monk, recite for us the important details?"

The monk offers a wary glance at Votig.

"Ye saw what I did to the door. Imagine what that'd do to a body."

The monk says, "Forgive me, Holy Seat. I am required to gather the ale."

The monk goes to leave but Prilla says, "Nonsense. It has been sent for."

The monk hovers awkwardly at the door, nervously glancing at Votig and trying not to make it obvious he is doing so. Prilla says, "What you have summoned us for may be the most important news of our order for the last thousand years. Now, speak."

Votig glares once more at the monk, to make his point. The monk draws a steadying breath and avoids eye contact with Votig. Trembling, he blurts out, "The one called Elise survived the aether, Holy Seat!" He then turns and runs from the room.

Prilla looks around the group. "Fascinating. And Elise would be..."

Elise says nothing, but she has gone white and begins to shake. On her lap, Chompy settles his head down against her leg as if to calm her.

"Which of you is Elise?" repeats the Seat.

Eliam quietly motions to Elise.

"Ah," says Prilla. "Thank you."

"Child, do you remember what we are speaking of?" she asks gently. Elise shakes her head, though she barely registers the question.

Minerva puts her arm over Elise's shoulders and says, "It's all right. Nothing changes. You're still Elise. It's not like you're going to suddenly turn into a monster with tentacles and three heads."

Elise looks at Minerva for a moment as though trying to make up her mind about something, then smiles. A few monks enter the library, carrying a large keg of ale and mugs with them.

"Splendid," Prilla says. "Please serve our guests. In the meanwhile," she says, "perhaps we should discuss our next steps." The ale is poured and distributed while Prilla studies Elise uncertainly. "Elise," she says tepidly, "I can understand how difficult this must be for you to understand. Your world will change if the contents of that letter are true."

Elise frowns. "Who was the letter even from?"

Prilla looks at Votig, as the only person left in the room who has read it.

Oren distractedly notices the ale being poured for him. He brings it to Eliam, and continues reading his books. Eliam accepts the ale and, after quickly checking it for truth serum, takes a drink.

Votig pushes his mug towards Prilla distrustingly. "How 'bout ye drink first?"

As Eliam takes a sip from the mug, Prilla answers. "As has been mentioned, such beverages are forbidden to our order. You understand that what is happening here is highly unusual."

Prilla smiles warmly and says, "If it will put you at ease, Elise, we have a simple way to check whether or not you were affected by a wellspring. Ages ago, the founders of our religion stored away a set of aetheric orbs. We were told that they came from the skyglyph but no one knows their origin for certain." The Holy Seat turns her eyes toward Elise and says, "The records have always been very clear. In the presence of a child, one of the five orbs will glow in resonance with him or her."

"If you have been affected by a wellspring, one of the orbs will glow. And if you have not, they will all remain dim. When news of the contents of the letter reached me, I immediately asked for the testing orbs to be delivered. They should be here momentarily. Please wait just a moment and we will either unburden you of your worries, or give you all the support you will ever need."

"I've had just about enough of this." Votig stands, preparing to leave. As he moves, a pair of monks bearing a large, ancient chest between them appear in the doorway. They step through, carrying it past the dwarf. The party does not move to stop him as he exits the library.

Elise looks at the chest, then nervously returns her gaze to Prilla. "What do I have to do?"

"Nothing," Prilla answers. "You merely need to sit here and wait. When the chest is opened, one of the five orbs will glow, and its colour will indicate to us which of the Maker's dominions you have been blessed with control of."

Minerva looks suddenly at the doorway. "...And there are five of them? They will react to anyone who has touched a wellspring?"

"Why, yes," Prilla said. "Naturally, only one will glow as you've all indicated that none of you interacted with the aether."

Minerva and Elise look at the chest with trepidation.

"I had better make sure Oren is still okay back there. Excuse me" Eliam says, walking to the back of the room to sit with the mage. Oren briefly looks up, but quickly returns to his book.

Prilla says to the monks, "Please open the chest, and offer a prayer to the Maker."

The monks open the chest. Five orbs are arranged in a ring, laid within hollows on a smooth wooden surface. A red orb glows, the light flickering furiously. A blue orb glows, the light swirling serenely. A purple orb glows, the light waving and wispy. A translucent orb with traces of grey glows, the light silvery and smooth. A yellow orb glows more muted than the rest. It dims with each passing second.

Prilla rises immediately, her eyes wide in shock. "I-impossible." Her eyes narrow. She looks at the orbs, then looks around at everyone. Then her eyes fall on the dimming orb, and she looks toward the doorway where Votig left.

"Please... explain," she says to those near her. As no one answers, she looks at Eliam. "What say you?"

"Maybe the prophecy was off a bit?" he shrugs sheepishly.

"Impossible. The documentation has been confirmed through history. The children have returned."

Minerva looks at Eliam. She says nothing but the expression on her face is clear: she feels the game is up.

"Well," Prilla says. "I think we have determined which child was blessed with ground's domain. That leaves the other four. Would you all please join me beside the chest? I do not seek answers of your history -- you clearly have wished to keep your past private and I respect that -- but learning the domain you have been blessed with would be... invaluable."

Minerva and Elise move to the chest. Eliam quietly nudges Oren, trying to get his attention. "The Holy Seat is asking us to stand over there real quick,” he tells him. Oren raises his eyebrow, but walks over with him to the chest.

Prilla directs your attention to the four orbs which are glowing: red, blue, purple, and translucent. She says, "Each represents one of the maker's domains. Fire. Water. Air. Ground. Aether. It resonates with its child, and *only* its child. Hold your orb, and it will unlock secrets of your domain. Touch the wrong one, and it will harm you."

Minerva looks at her. "How are we to know which one is ours?"

Prilla smiles. "If you are truly a child, you should have feelings one way or another."

"Well this one is definitely yours,” Oren says, pointing to the red orb and looking at Minerva.

She looks at it warily. "Are you certain?"

Oren pokes the red orb, to test it, and feels a shock. It feels wrong. It feels like his heart hurts. It feels like he's flooded his soul with something that shouldn't be there. When he moves his finger away, the feeling immediately goes away. He whips his hand back in pain. "It's definitely yours"

Minerva reaches out tentatively and touches the red orb. It accepts her. She lifts it into her palm and her eyes glow red for a brief moment as the light is extinguished from the orb.

Minerva places the dull orb back in the box. "I... wow."

Prilla is smiling. "You are the child of fire. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Purple is air? That's Elise," Oren says.

Elise looks at you, amazed that you know this. "H-how do you know?"

"Because you like the clouds, but really it's a guess with you and Eliam.”

"I would trust his judgment,” Eliam says. “He reads a lot of books."

Elise looks at Minerva, who smiles at her and nods. Elise reaches down and places a finger on the orb. It accepts her. She raises the orb to her hand, and her eyes glow purple. The light leaves the orb, and Elise replaces it in the box.

Oren grabs the blue one. It accepts him, and transfers its glow to him. He heads over to the books, pausing as he passes Eliam. “Make sure Votig knows not to touch the yellow one. He won't want it to curse him again.”

He nods, and grabs the remaining grey orb. It accepts him, and the glow is transferred.

Prilla's eyes well up with tears. "I never dreamed-- certainly I dreamed, but I never *thought*-- oh goodness."

"Would it be possible for us to take some of the books here on our journey?” Eliam asks. “I think my friend has already found some that would be useful.”

"I... I really should not," she says, "We have been forbidden from removing these books for thousands of years, but... for the children, I would allow you to read them in your rooms. They are not to leave the castle."

"That will be more than enough. Thank you for your hospitality.”

Prilla approaches Oren and says, "For what information are you searching, child?"

"Trying to get to Thirshalon," Oren answers distractedly.

If she is surprised, Prilla hides it well. "For what reason?"

"Um... why not."

She considers him with an unreadable expression. "The records tell us it was destroyed thousands of years ago."

"Well it has to be somewhere. Do you know which part of the country it was up against before it was separated?" the mage asks.

The evening wears on, as Prilla does her best to answer his questions. Half of the party splits off to drink its way to a quiet night. Oren continues his search through the books of Fallowfield, and eventually all the group turns to sleep to pass away the revelations of the night prior.

Noon rolls around to find the party having risen. They sit quietly in the dining hall, no one speaking much. Elise seems shaken though she is attempting to disguise it.

The dining hall is a large stone room, with long wooden tables fit for a mass of monks and nuns. Large stained glass windows filter light into the room from above.

A monk serves a hearty, though late, breakfast consisting of eggs, sausage, and toast. What few words of conversation are shared slip away as eating takes precedence.

Finally, Elise turns to Oren. "Do you really think you can get us to Thirshalon? Everyone we've spoken to seems so funny about it..."

Minerva grins ever so slightly.

"Of course,” he answers confidently. “We just need a boat and directions."

"Do you think you'll find it across the sea?" Minerva asks. "If it were that easy to find, why would everyone say it was destroyed?"

"Nobody has ever wanted to go. Maybe... the government doesn't want us to find it."

He has uttered perhaps the perfect combination of words to pique Minerva's interest. "Maybe... maybe they know there is something that could destabilize their power."

"Exactly, you shouldn't trust them,” Oren says. “There are old books and artifacts from before the Maker separated us from Thirshalon. We just have to find evidence of where it was and we can go looking for it."

Minerva shrugs. "That sounds as reasonable a course as any if this is actually going to work."

Prilla enters the room and approaches the group. She sits at the table, greets everyone, then says, "Ah. Oren. I trust you are continuing your search?"

"Yes,” he smiles, “we still need information."

"I may, perhaps, have something of use... Though the odds of it are so unlikely as to be impossible... Yet I speak to the children and so..." She keeps trailing off, almost as though she is arguing with herself. Finally, she says, "There is a place within Fallowfield that may aid you with what you seek. It is known only to Seats and their most direct attendants, the information passed down from leader to leader."

"You must swear the location and your knowledge to absolute secrecy, for then and only then can I reveal to you what we have safeguarded all this time."

"Of course. We won't tell anyone," Oren promises.

Prilla decides she trusts him. She looks to each of the party in turn.

Minerva and Elise both respond with honesty. They have no intention of betraying Prilla's secret.

"I won't tell anyone." Eliam says, though he's unsure if he'll keep that promise.

She looks at Votig, and he looks her in the eye. "I've no interest in more secrets and secret cults. Ye can keep them far away from me, I want no part."

Prilla looks slightly crestfallen. This is, perhaps, not the vision of the children she has had in her mind for her entire life.

The Orcs Arrive at Fallowfield
Prilla opens her mouth to respond when a loud bell tolls throughout the church. It is similar to the one you heard previously when you were in the library. The Holy Seat immediately turns. She immediately presents herself more severely.

Oren casts bloodhound to track the marks he left, curious. He senses Samson's axe outside the gates.

"Minerva, your father's axe is outside." He stands, turning towards the library.

Prilla says, "Excuse me. I must attend to this. Perhaps we could speak shortly." Prilla begins to leave toward the sound of the ringing bell.

Minerva turns white. "Wait, what?"

"Elise, can you come help me carry some books?" Oren asks.

Minerva puts a hand on his arm. "Oren, what do you mean my father's axe is outside? Here? Now?"

"Yes, probably Ish'an caught up with us. We should hide or leave if we want to avoid prison."

Minerva clenches her utensils tightly. Her jaw is set.

"Is there another exit if we're going to make a run for it?" Eliam asks.

"We can always make our own exit," Votig responds.

Minerva says, "Guys, I want to kill him. We don't have to fight. I'm sure we could sneak up on him. Do something." There is a desperation to her voice that Minerva is trying to hide.

"If you want, but in not sure if the priests will like that." Oren answers.

"If they're threatening the church, they may actually help us. Maybe we won't even have to do much," Eliam says.

As Oren goes to leave once more, Minerva gets up to play one last card. "If orcs are attacking, Prilla's going to be the one to try and talk them down. If they kill her, there goes the secret she has of how to get to Thirshalon."

Oren stops, walking back to Minerva. “Don't worry, of course I'll help you. But I want to make sure we steal those books."

Minerva puts a hand on Oren's shoulder and says in a quiet voice, "Count on it."

"I can carry some,” Eliam offers. “Just show me which ones you want to take."

Minerva nods her head. "Come on! Let's catch up to Prilla to make sure she's okay. Then we can slip in and get the books when we bail for Thirshalon."

Elise has been head-in-the-clouds mode for the last five minutes, so she rises from her reverie when she sees the group beginning to stand. "Oh," she says, "are we borrowing books from the library? That's nice."

"Votig and Minerva are the best killers, so you two should figure out a plan before rushing in,” Oren directs. “Keep Prilla alive, we need to know her secret. Eliam, let's go grab the books while they think."

"These books are one of a kind, right?” Eliam suggests. “I bet they'll be valuable once you're done reading them."

"Definitely. We can split them up later if you like." Oren offers. "I'm sure your father would appreciate them if he has a library.”

Minerva, bouncing with impatience, grabs Elise and Oren by the arm. "We don't have time for this! Prilla is meeting the orcs RIGHT NOW. If we stop for books first, she could die and there goes Thirshalon!"

"Why would they kill her?" Oren asks, as she tries to pull him in the direction Prilla went.

Minerva looks momentarily stunned. "They... I... they killed my father," she says abashedly, as though it should be obvious.

"But Prilla isn't going to attack, she is just talking to them. She'll protect us..." Oren trails off.

"Do you want me to go grab the books while you guys fight?" Eliam offers.

Oren pries Minerva's fingers off Elise slowly. He puts his arm around her shoulders, guiding her towards the library. “It's okay. We'll kill him. We don't like him either. But I need to find out how to remove Votig's magic, and get us to Thirshalon. And Eliam needs money. Don't worry, I'll help you all, but you have to wait a moment.”

Minerva finally decides she can't wait anymore and she just takes off running. “Catch up quickly!" she shouts back as she moves.

Oren gives the group a look, then jogs in the direction Minerva went. Elise, Votig, and Eliam follow him.

Prilla hears the group's footsteps as they follow and gestures for them to move to the left of the door. "I know not what the bells are ringing for but I encourage you, friends, to observe first. The bells toll for danger or events of significance to our order. Ringing two days in a row is... unheard of.”

Beside the door on a raised platform, about ten feet off the ground, sit a few tiny, narrow windows. They are small enough so as to be nearly unobservable from the ground, but afford a view of the outside. Minerva hops up to the raised platform. "Can't hurt to see what's going on."

"Do you see anything?" Eliam asks as she peers through.

Oren says to Prilla nervously, "maybe you shouldn't answer."

Minerva continues peering into the window as Prilla speaks to the bellringer. "What have you seen, child?" she asks peacefully.

The bellringer stops tolling the bell. She looks at the Seat with a white face and tearful eyes. "I've seen the end of our Order, Holy Seat."

Minerva's face is pale. She nearly falls of the platform, corrects her balance, and leans her head and hands against the wall. She looks like she may be sick.

Elise gingerly rises atop the platform and pats Minerva comfortingly. "What have you seen?"

Eliam whispers to Votig and Oren quietly, "We'll still be legendary heroes even if they burn this place to the ground, right?"

"I see a battalion of orcs that reaches so far back and so wide I can see neither the road nor the horizon," Minerva answers. "I see a thousand orcs, armed, warlike, scarred, and hungry. I see monsters with battle scars so deep and so vicious I am amazed they can move."

She slumps against the wall. "And in the front row, I see my father holding his axe."

Oren repeats to Prilla, "Don't open the door."

She looks at him somewhat sadly. "I must, my child. Our order demands compassion and audiences for all who approach."

"Even zombies? Don't open it, let someone else talk to them... through a window or something. But if you open the door, they're going to kill us all,” Oren says.

She blinks at him. "Zombies?"

"Yes, so instead of letting them in, stall them and have your clerics hide everything valuable in this church, because the orcs will take anything they can find..."

"I'm afraid your words mean little to me, child. What is a zombie?" Prilla asks as Elise helps Minerva descend the platform.

"Oh like... someone who died and now they're walking around. It doesn't matter."

"That sounds... abominous," says Prilla.

"I'm not sure that's a word," Elise says dreamily.

Prilla responds, "Oh... I thought we were all making up words."

"It's a word!" Oren insists, looking to Eliam to back him up.

"Oh!" says Prilla. "I suppose I was lucky.” She withdraws a locket from around her neck and places it on Oren. "Keep your dreams and secrets close to your heart. May they guide your path."

She turns to face the door. "Now perhaps you should be off before I greet this kind crowd."

Oren looks around at the others for guidance.

"That would probably be for the best," Eliam says. He grabs Minerva's arm, ready to drag her away by force if necessary. She passively follows him, stunned by what she saw.

“How do we get out?” Oren asks Prilla.

She looks at him gravely. "Have you taken all you wish from the library?"

"Oh, right." He runs off to collect the books he gathered earlier. Elise follows closely behind, gesturing for the party to follow as well.

The party advances into the eastern corridor off the main hall. At the end of the corridor, about fifty feet away and on the left side, is a stairwell that leads up. On the walls to to the right and directly ahead of the party are a series of stained glass windows.

As they begin up the corridor, the group slows despite themselves as they hear the large door of the main hall begin to open. For a moment there is silence. Silence. Silence.

Then a series of thuds, and a panicked cry rises into the air, muffled by the immediate roar of a thousand warriors.

The seven windows in the corridor immediately shatter.

The Group Fights at Fallowfield
The windows shatter as a series of javelins come flying through the windows. Six of them clatter against the left wall harmlessly. The seventh comes from the end of the hallway. Votig sidesteps it instinctively, but it scrapes Elise's shoulder as she is too slow to avoid it.

Orcs begin to clamber in through the windows.

Five orcs have crawled their way into the windows. Each is holding a unique weapon. All the weapons glimmer with the touch of magic, and each has a faintly-glowing tether that connects to the chest of the orc that is holding it.

The nearest to the party is an orc apprentice. He wears shabby armour and carries a limbsplitter axe. The axe glimmers faintly, its properties unknown.

The next furthest is an armsmaster orc. He wears tattered leather armour and carries savage claws. The claws glimmer faintly, their properties unknown.

Beyond stands an orc duelist. He wears heavy leather and carries a bone saw. The saw glimmers faintly, its properties unknown.

Further stands an orc outfitter. He wears thin chain mail and wields a void dagger. The dagger glimmers faintly, its properties unknown.

In front of the stairway stands an orc commander. He stands in armour plate and holds a bloodforged blade. The sword glimmers faintly, its properties unknown.

The hallway is about twenty feet wide. The library is far enough that the party cannot retreat and defend from the heavy doorway. The orcs step forward, ready to surround the party.

Votig barrels forward past the apprentice and smashes his fist into the armsmaster's cheek before he can respond. The armsmaster falls back a foot, then looks at Votig menacingly, sharpening his claws against each other.

The orc apprentice moves forward to attack Oren. He slashes out with the limbsplitter axe. It hums menacingly as it cuts through the air and tears a gash across the mage's chest. As the axe contacts Oren, it shimmers strongly.

Eliam casts a flame blast at the apprentice. His increased experience with the spell (and friendly fire) causes him to pick the perfect range at which the apprentice will suffer damage, and his allies will not. The flames surround the apprentice before slipping away.

Minerva draws her daggers and unleashes a flurry of slices on the apprentice. The apprentice is unprepared for the assault and suffers several wounds. Elise steps forward to thwack him with her staff, but her swing is unpracticed and she misses.

A shadow dagger flares to life in Oren's hand as he dramatically flings it at the apprentice. The orc recoils as it buries itself in his thigh and shatters into pieces. He regards Oren warily.

The armsmaster orc turns on Votig and slashes out viciously with the Savage Claws. His claws find a spot in Votig's defense that is exposed and he pierces through his armour. The claws shimmer when as he strikes, and the dwarf feels moderately slower.

As the orc outfitter advances, he shouts, "Switch 'em up, boys! Keep 'em guessing!"

The apprentice turns and throws the limbsplitter axe back to the armsmaster. The armsmaster throws the savage claws back to the duelist. The duelist throws the bone saw back to the outfitter. The outfitter throws the dagger forward to the apprentice. The shimmering tether that connected the weapons to each orcs chest has changed. Each weapon is now connected to the orc that is carrying it.

The orc apprentice is wary of Oren, but the void dagger in his hand seems to be filling him with confidence. He attempts to attack Oren and fails as he sees the mage cast another imposing shadow dagger. Warily, he moves back defensively.

"No honor, eh?” Votig shouts as the outfitter interrupts his brawl. “No matter. Chompy, show em why ya got yer name!" He swings with the patience of an experienced fighter, but the armsmaster is too quick and evades.

Chompy bites out at the armsmaster's ankles and manages to latch on temporarily before he is kicked off.

Flames erupt from Eliam's position once more and roar down the hallway, surrounding the duelist before flickering away. Minerva pursues the apprentice, striking with her daggers.

Elise keeps an eye on Votig as he battles but doesn't feel he is critical enough yet to leap in with healing. She instead attempts an arcane blast on the apprentice, which is successful. He sinks to one knee, and begins breathing heavily.

Oren aims a shadow dagger at the armsmaster. The armsmaster twists in place to avoid the dagger, but the dark energies just barely manage to connect with his lumbering body. He swings his axe at Votig, but fails to connect.

The orc duelist advances on Eliam. He slashes out with the Savage Claws. The duelist lands a blow on the bard with the claws. A slash runs down his left arm and leaves a bloody trail.

The outfitter drags the bone saw along the wall in savage glee. He swings it at Votig, but the dwarf ducks under the bone saw deftly. The outfitter shouts, "Don't let 'em get used to it! Switch! Switch!"

The Apprentice stabs in with the void dagger and scores a savage blow into Eliam's thigh.

Votig lashes out with a savage right hook while Chompy clamps down on the armsmaster's other ankle. The hook connects with the armsmaster's jaw and Votig attempts to knock his axe away while he is disoriented. The dwarf's hands smash against the side of the axe but the orc's grip remains too strong.

Minerva turns to assist Eliam by attempting to engage the orcs near him. She launches herself at the Duelist in the hopes of scaring him off a little. Concern burning in her eyes, a blazing aura overtakes Minerva's body as elemental forces surge through her. A great wave of heat encases the duelist as her daggers cut across his torso. The radiant heat smelts the claws ever so slightly, softening their edges. Eliam uses the distraction to step back and heal himself.

Elise looks at Eliam's remaining wounds and says, "Well, that simply won't do." Her hands glow and she lays them on his arm. Her healing touch seals most of the remainder of his wounds.

Oren readies another spell against the armsmaster. The shadow dagger forms, but the spell falters as soon as it leaves Oren's hands. It sputters in the air and limply arcs to the ground, where it dissipates on contact with the floor. The orc decides to move against the mage while he has the chance. He runs forward to get in range.

The duelist jabs at Minerva with the savage claws. The speed is blinding and Minerva is unable to move away, but the softened edges combined with her thin armour prevent most of the harm.

The outfitter lashes out at Votig with the bone saw. It hums menacingly at it swings through the air in a jagged path. Votig's guard is too well placed, however, and he easily parries the saw with his fists. The outfitter cries out, "Again, again!"

The orc commander moves forward and is within range of Votig. He leaps forward, the bone saw cleaving the air as he goes. Votig rolls, narrowly avoiding the commander's assault.

The apprentice rises to his feet, warily looking at the bloodforged blade. The apprentice moves forward to attack Eliam. The Apprentice clumsily swings the large blade at the bard, who easily sidesteps it. The blade shimmers when the attack is completed. The orc grunts as though injured, and the blade compels him to make a follow-up attack. The apprentice attacks again. This time, Eliam is unprepared for the sudden assault and takes the full brunt of the orc's blow.

"I wasn't done with ye! C'mon, Chompy!" Votig moves quickly and charges the armsmaster. Chompy follows in his wake, desperate to assist his master. The lizard grows reckless in his desire to stay close to Votig, and accidentally gets caught up in his feet just as he is aiming a massive straightarm at the armsmaster. Votig stumbles sideways at full force, his arm squarely contacting an unprepared Oren. His fist hits the mage's collarbone and sends him crashing painfully to the ground.

"Oh, could we not?" Minerva shouts back, seeing Votig drop the mage. Minerva takes stock of her position and notes that she is now alone in the front lines. She is not comfortable with this. Minerva runs back, attempting to regroup. As she runs, she slashes with her daggers at the armsmaster, hitting him easily.

Eliam attempts to finish off the apprentice. The arcane blast connects with the apprentice's face and he whips back, teeth and blood flying from his mouth. The point of his blade touches the ground and he leans against the sword to hold himself up. He sways.

"Oh, dear," Elise says with concern, looking at Oren. She pulls him up to his feet and says, "You mustn't do things like that, Votig." As she touches Oren's hand, she channels healing magic into his body to soothe bruising from the collision. Oren, recovered, sends an arcane blast at the apprentice. The orc doubles over and collapses, his body lying on its side.

The shimmering tether that connects the bloodforged blade to the apprentice's heart flickers feebly and is extinguished. As it vanishes, the blade begins to magically rot away. It blackens, crumbles, and becomes dust. Seconds later, the same happens to the orc's body. A pile of blackened ash is all that remains of both weapon and wielder.

The armsmaster has noticed that Elise is able to restore the group and thus wishes to target her. He moves bravely into the party. His void dagger flashes out at Elise and sinks into her shoulder. She steps away from the orc, tears in her eyes, clenching her shoulder tightly.

The duelist is an accomplished fighter, whose years of experience in combat situations allow him to expose weaknesses in enemy defenses and strategies. As he nears Oren, he swings the limbsplitter axe in wide circles, as though testing it out, assuring himself of its balance. Oren prepares himself, measuring the orc's pace and range, but at the last moment, the orc launches himself forward at a speed Oren could neither predict nor ready himself for. The limbsplitter cuts out twice, thrice, four times, a lethal series of blows that rain down on the mage, spilling blood in splatters against the hallway.

Votig, a dwarf of fury, rises to his feet and pummels the armsmaster relentlessly. The armsmaster, defenseless against the onslaught, falls to his hands and knees. As he slowly raises his head, he finds himself eye to eye with Chompy. Chompy immediately mauls the orc's neck, the warrior feebly struggling to throw the lizard off. In failing, he falls to the ground. The tether connecting him to the bone saw flickers and fades, causing both orc and weapon to crumble into darkness.

Chompy, with large eyes seeking redemption, looks up at Votig to see if all is forgiven. In return, the dwarf grins and gives him a thumbs up.

Minerva steps up to stab out at the duelist. She connects, but barely. The duelist is agile and nimbly avoids the worst of the attacking motion. Eliam targets the duelist as well, with an arcane blast. As the bolt nears the orc, the foe's void dagger shimmers. The spell hits the duelist in the chest, but as it does so it shatters into nothingness. The void dagger glows briefly, then goes back to normal.

Elise looks at Oren and says, "That's funny... Usually my magic doesn't leave bruises behind. You must have been hurt.” She attempts to lay hands on him again to cure him, but as soon as her hands are close, she looks up at the ceiling and says, "Oh... I wish there were a skylight in this castle..."

Oren draws a massive amount of aetheric power into himself and splits his arcane blast across both the outfitter and the Commander. The magic strikes both orcs and angers them. The duelist steps forward against Votig, his dagger gleaming. "Your magic. Useless," he grunts. He leaps at Votig and stabs downward with the void dagger. The dwarf backsteps, but too slowly, and the dagger narrowly cuts across Votig's thigh.

The outfitter flies forward at Oren in response to his attack. He turns the axe to smash Oren with the back of the weapon. "You will suffer!" He cries as he swings. The limbsplitter shimmers at it collides with Oren, knocking him back a few feet and deepening its curse's hold on him.

The commander brings the savage claws to bear on Eliam. Bloody lines appear across Eliam's body as the claws do their work.

The blow to Votig's thigh has distracted him, for his punches sail wide. Minerva sprints into the duelist to help support him. She goes for a lethal blow on the orc, her daggers stabbing in and out relentlessly against the slower opponent. The duelist staggers backward, stumbling against the wall for support. His blood oozes down his body to the floor.

Eliam braces himself, calling upon untold aetheric power. Flames rise in his hands, a raging heat that causes the air itself to seem to melt. With a shout, he directs it forward, the conflagration engulfing both commander and outfitter in an incendiary blaze. The outfitter steps through the flames unharmed, his void dagger shimmering. The commander, and his limbsplitter, are ash.

Elise skips forward to Oren and says, "I bet you wish you could do that. I do." She hums as she moves to heal him. As she goes to lay hands on him, she stops and turns suddenly to Eliam. "Do you think you could teach me that? The clouds think it might be a good idea."

"Ha ha... I mean, it was completely intentional,” the bard replies. “I'm sure I could at least try, but don't be surprised if you just can't get the hang of magic like that."

Oren ignores her and steps forward. He swings his mace, but even wounded the outfitter is quicker, and he evades. The outfitter looks around and realizes he is now completely alone. He takes a step backwards and says, "This... there are more. We are more! I'll get more!"

The outfitter turns to run. He gets one step into a sprint, two, three... and then from Oren a whip of water, condensed from the air itself, snakes around his feet and causes him to tumble end over end to the ground. He scrambles to rise, but before he can move, Votig has grabbed him by the back of the collar and pressed him against the wall. Eliam leans against the wall on the far side of the orc, cutting off his avenue to run should be break free.

Minerva takes this scene in with an approving whistle. "You know, that was actually badass. Nice work, team."

Votig leans against the wall casually, his hand pressed against the orc's neck. Looking completely relaxed, Votig seems to almost not notice as the orc's neck audibly snaps against the wall.

The Group Continues to the Library
The enemies are defeated, but the roar of battle and orc war cries still floats in through the window. A din is raised from the main hall from which the group has come. The stairway leading up to the library is uncontested.

Minerva looks nervously around. "If we're going to go somewhere, we need to go. Where are we headed?"

Wordlessly, Oren proceeds to the library. The party follows his lead. They ascend the stairway to find the remaining glass windows down the hallway have been shattered.

The second floor is oddly calm, despite the sounds of battle raging below.

Between the stairwell and the doorway leading into the library sits a lone orc, who seems to have scaled the wall and broken through the window. He is sitting on the floor, kneeling and facing the entrance. He is chanting unintelligible words while a shimmering tether connects him to a mysterious, ethereal monolith he has placed on the floor behind him. The monolith appears translucent and without substance.

Between you and the orc, a pair of dark red glyphs have been etched onto the stone floor by magic. Noticing the party's arrival, the orc ceases to chant and raises his hands. A pair of fiendish monsters claw their way up through the floor as though it were a pool of water.

The monster on the left is wolfish, though larger, and has fangs dripping sparks of flame.

The monster on the right almost defies description. It is dark red in colour and bipedal, with wicked blades fused to its forearms that run backward past its elbows. Three asymmetrical and massive spikes jut out from its back. It hunches forward, balanced by a long tail. Muscle is everywhere on it, and when it opens its jaw, rows of gnashing teeth shine as it emits a guttural shriek.

Votig decides to attempt to slip past the orc and his monsters. Without a sound, he relies on Minerva and Elise, who have barreled to the top of the stairs, to provide enough of a distraction for him to move. There is next to no cover in the hallway - a few drapes here and there near what used to be windows - but Votig is making surprisingly excellent progress. He is mere feet from the monsters when the wolf creature bares its fangs, the dwarf's scent pungent in its nose.

The Group Fights in the Library
Oren quickly prepares a spell to cast a wall of shadow between the party and the monsters. Votig pops out from behind some drapes on the wall just as the wolfish creature snarls and bares its fangs. The dwarf catches it in the snout, and at that exact moment, the world goes black.

Minerva feels her way up the hall along the wall, one dagger in her other hand. She is forced to move slowly from the darkness.

The foreign monolith emits a wave of aether. It can be felt, but the aether is unable to be used. It passes harmlessly through the room.

The Rorgh invoker chants to himself within the darkness.

Impeded by the spell, Votig shouts in angry dwarvish at the party and adopts a defensive stance. Elise feels her way up the wall, attempting to stay behind Minerva for safety.

Eliam conjures a wall of flame that erupts from his hands and bursts down the hallway. Minerva, Elise, and Votig feel the wave of heat as it passes by them, but are all safe from its effects. The wave catches up the monstrous ridgerager, which howls as the flames lick at its flesh.

The ridgewolf sniffs out Votig and lunges forward. It hops around to evade his careful guard and snaps down on his arm, singing it slightly.

Oren dispels the wall of darkness and fires an arcane blast. The arcane blast screams through the air, rife with disruption magic. It strikes the orc on the shoulder, and a shimmering aura flickers around his body. He scowls. The tether connected to his back does not appear to be affected.

The ridgerager tears down the hallway to attack the party. It snaps its long tail at Minerva. She deflects the brunt of the attack with her dagger but feels the sting of its whiplike motion down her side. She shouts, "Elise, move back!" as she steps off the wall and draws her other dagger.

Minerva's daggers spin in her hands as she advances on the ridgerager. "You know what? I'm having a really, really weird day. My father is downstairs. My dead father. He's down there, with a thousand orcs, and I don't know what the fuck is going on. But you know what I do know? I know what these daggers do to abominations that come after me or my friends." The ridgerager roars at her, its fangs glistening. The beast swings a mighty arm at her, but Minerva leaps, kicks off the wall, pushes off the attacking arm with her other foot, and flips over the head of the monster. She sinks her dagger into the shoulder of the beast from above as she moves over it.

"And you know what else?" she grunts as her feet hit the ground on the far side. "I'm pretty sure I can make your day worse." With the speed of lightning, she attacks again, sinking both daggers into the shoulder blades of the ridgerager and pulling as though they were levers, pulling the beast backward awkwardly. "Now, Eliam!" she shouts. "It's all set up for you!"

The foreign monolith emits two waves of aether. Neither is harmful, nor do they impede anyone in any way.

The Rorgh invoker inhales deeply, soaking in the waves of aether. He chants, extending his arms toward the ridgewolf and causing streams of aether to flow into its body. Its fangs grow longer and sharper; where before there were merely sparks, now full flames are spitting from its mouth.

"Chompy, protect Oren!" Votig shouts as he charges in. Obediently, Chompy trots off.

Elise is now cut off from Minerva as the rogue is on the far side of the beast, and though the beast is temporarily pinned, she does not want to be in its path when it is free. She retreats back to Eliam, laying hands on him to heal his wounds.

Votig barrels down the hallway, his feet a blur as he advances hastily at the invoker. The invoker makes no effort to defend himself and takes the full blow to the chin. He staggers backward, but remains on his feet.

The ridgerager struggles against Minerva's daggers as Eliam's flame blast descends upon him; it finally breaks free of her grip, but is too late to avoid the conflagration. It howls in agony as it drops to a knee, the wounds on its body painfully cauterized by the bard's flames.

"You know, I'm starting to think we make a pretty good team!” He shouts to the rogue. “Maybe even off the battlefield, if you catch my drift!"

Minerva scoffs. "Stop hitting on everything with tits and maybe I'll believe you."

"Ha ha! Playing hard to get, I see."

The ridgewolf's claws clatter against the stone as it dashes toward Oren. Flames continue to erupt from the ridgewolf's mouth as it enjoys the benefit of its enhanced power, granted by the Invoker. It clamps down on Oren's lower leg and twists its head to try and drag him down; the flames inflict burns along his shin. It goes for a second attack when Chompy slams into it, knocking it off of the mage. The lizard counterattacks, scoring moderate damage along its flank.

Oren bandages up his leg quickly while Chompy distracts the ridgewolf. He fires a burst of magic at the monolith, but the arcane blast soars over it, making no contact.

The ridgerager roars, pushing itself up with the wall. It turns on Minerva, its body in agony. The ridgerager wheels on her with such ferocity, she is suddenly overwhelmed. She did not expect such a savage attack to come so quickly on the heels of the savage blows that she and Eliam had dealt it. The beast unleashes a mighty blow on Minerva, its massive arm colliding with her and tossing her helplessly against the stone wall. She struggles to push herself off the wall to gain space, but the ridgerager follows up with a second attack, moving at lightning speed and slamming her to the ground.

Minerva regains her feet. She feels herself weakening but sees the same is true of the monster before her. She resolves to press on. She swings with her daggers, but she is dazed and the blow is feeble.

The monolith emits three waves of aetheric energy.

The invoker absorbs the energy. Chanting, he turns his back to Votig and funnels the power back into the monolith.

Votig, upon noticing the figure within the monolith, feels an immediate sense of foreboding. He responds by gathering his innate power and tremor punching. The assault shakes up the invoker, but the monolith seems to be untouched.

Elise, full of concern, throws caution to the wind and dashes in to Minerva. "Oren!" she shouts. "Oren, I'm coming next!" She lays hands on the rogue and channels her healing into her.

The ridgerager is incensed at the force of the attacks against it. One of its legs doesn't seem to be responding to it, but it limps menacingly toward Eliam.

The ridgewolf's attention is split between Oren and Chompy. It seems to be straining itself; though the flames it gained from the invoker have worn off, it seems to be pushing itself to regain some semblance of that power. Finally, the wolf dashes in, snapping its maw at both of its targets in an unwelcome dual strike.

Chompy takes offense to the attack on Oren and counterattacks automatically. Oren's arcane blast flies across the room on a direct course for the translucent monolith. At the moment of impact, he excitedly looks for the damage, but the bolt of magic passes directly through the monolith, leaving no trace of impact behind.

The ridgerager continues limping toward Eliam. It claws its way to the bard, snarling and screeching with every broken step. Finally it reaches its target and snaps its whiplike tail at him.

Minerva doubles back to catch up with the ridgerager. "No, no, no, no, no. No one else! My father was enough!" She leaps at the monster, her daggers flashing as she brings them down to bear on the beast. She sinks them with a sickening sound into the monster's spine, and it collapses to the ground, unmoving. With a shuddering and gasping exhalation, it dies.

The glyph which had summoned it reappears, and draws it back down into the depths of the stonework beneath your feet.

The foreign monolith emits four waves of aetheric energy.

The invoker, chanting, directs the energy at the feral ridgewolf. Its fangs sharpen and its maw is set ablaze; the fire that emits from its mouth has turned blue instead of red.

The invoker takes the punch to the mouth. Blood and teeth fall from his mouth. "Break my body, dwarf," he spits. "DO IT."

Elise dashes toward Oren, concern visible on her face. "Don't push yourself so much!" She places her hands on him, and a soothing relief floods his body.

Eliam fires at the wolf, but it nimbly rolls away from the arcane blast. Seeing Elise draw near, it switches its focus. The monster leaps on her, driving her to the ground. She raises her arms to protect herself but the wolf clenches its jaws around her limbs and tears at her as the blue flames severely burn her simultaneously. The wolf bounds off her, its job done, and snarls at Oren. He retaliates with a shadow dagger, but it fails to connect.

Minerva moves toward Elise. She attacks the ridgewolf, hoping to draw its attention. It nimbly leaps aside and turns to face her.

The foreign monolith emits five waves of aether.

The invoker absorbs the aether generated and funnels it toward the ridgewolf. The same blue fire returns to its fangs.

Oren draws upon his element and generates tendrils of water that latch onto two of the wolf's paws, slowing it down. A third wraps itself around the wolf's jaw, causing steam to rise in furious gasps. When the tendril around the Ridgewolf's maw evaporates, the fires that remain appear red. Enraged, the wolf chases after Oren. The tendrils seem to be weighing the wolf down ever so slightly, for he easily steps away from the wolf's lunge.

A massive punch to the invoker's stomach causes him to double over. He weakens.

Elise struggles to her feet but fails to stand. She manages to sit and slowly scrambles backward away from the wolf. She casts a healing touch on herself with great effectiveness.

The wolf, focused on avoiding damage from Eliam's arcane blast, fails to notice the second one coming from Oren and takes the brunt of the blow.

Minerva sprints at the ridgewolf. She attacks, her daggers drawing twin trails of blood down its side. As the wolf turns to defend itself, she is already gone, reappearing on its far side and attacking at full speed. The wolf, however, is quicker, and though Minerva presses her attack with blinding speed, the wolf has already moved.

The foreign monolith releases six waves of aether. The hall begins to feel ominous.

The invoker absorbs aether yet again, and directs it at the wolf. The feral ridgewolf's jaws burn white.

Elise, feeling stronger rises and moves back into the fray. She fires an arcane blast at the wolf. Her irritation at being struck so severely mere moments ago has informed her attack, and when she releases the arcane blast, it is with the intent of being a lethal blow. The monster is unprepared for the bolt and is blasted to the ground with the force of her attack.

Eliam conjures pure aetheric energy and compresses it with as much force as he feels possible. When he releases it, the bolt reverberates with an otherworldly ring as it travels. When it contacts the ridgewolf, it explodes, throwing the beast backward. Its lifeless body spills onto the stone and is reabsorbed by a summoning glyph, disappearing for good.

Oren turns his attention to the invoker. His arcane blast soars just close enough to the orc's peripheral vision that he is able to duck under it.

The rogue advances to assist with felling the orc. Minerva's daggers sink home, embedding themselves into the invoker's chest. She has missed vital organs but left bleeding wounds.

The monolith releases seven waves of aether.

Despite his injuries, the invoker channels the aether back into the monolith. The monolith vibrates.

Votig's flurry of punches drop the invoker to his hands and knees. He coughs blood onto the floor. The tether from his back feebly flickers, but it remains.

Elise steps forward. She attempts a spell, but misses despite the orc being immobile on all fours.

Oren's arcane blast is carefully crafted and precisely cast. It strikes true, and the orc collapses to the floor. A smile rests on his face, visible before his body begins to turn to blackened ash. The blackness spreads from his fingertips and toes up his limbs. He dissolves from the outside in, until the last remaining part of his body is the shimmering tether at his core.

The ashening creeps to the base of the tether, then along the chain, moving slowly toward the monolith, endlessly, steadily. Finally it touches. The monolith grows black as pitch and feeble. With an noise that does not sound near as sharp as it should, the monolith cracks.

A figure emerges. An orc, resplendent in light and aether, floats in the air above Votig, Minerva, and Oren, who stood beside the invoker when he died. The figure wields a massive purple sword in one hand. She wears brilliant armour of the shiniest and most durable metals.

She watches as the last bits of the monolith, the tether, and the invoker blow away into nothing.

She speaks.

My invoker has been slain," she says. "My life has been nurtured and sustained by the aether he fed me. I will avenge his death."

"No, he wanted to die!” Oren shouts. “He said so!"

"It wasn't us,” Votig adds. “We were tryin' ta save him, but we were too late."

"There were terrible monsters. We did all we could, but his desire to die was just too strong," Eliam joins in.

And suddenly it is felt: all the aether she'd been given by him while she was locked in the Monolith has infused her with strength beyond might. As she rises even higher, they know - they feel - the depth of her connection with the invoker. They know, from talking to her and seeing her dismiss their words, that she sees their lies for what they are.

And they know that she is coming.

The destined figure's sword glows as waves of aether so powerful they can almost taste them radiate from the foe. She touches down and twists her sword in a half circle to bring it to a parry position.

"Begin. Or I will."

Votig steps forward, prepared to fight. The destined figure lowers her sword and looks at him. "You know, dwarf... I believe I've changed my mind."

She rises into the air and rockets toward the dwarf, blade point first. "I believe I'd rather begin with no hesitation!"

Her speed is blinding. Before Votig has time to prepare any action, her sword is within his guard. He manages to kneel to limit the damage but it still scrapes his shoulder.

"That's all ye've got? And I thought yer invoker was a wuss. Hard ta' imagine he was wastin' his life summonin' ye!"

"Words," she responds dismissively. Her sword changes colour from purple to red. She falls from the sky and lands gracefully on the ground.

The figure plants her feet and swings her sword with all of her strength. "Your vitality, mine forevermore!" But her swing misses, and Votig nimbly dodges.

Eliam draws back his bow, and fires an arcane blast. The spell connects with the figure's shoulder. She feels the blow but does not move from the impact.

Minerva runs around Votig and the figure to approach her from a side angle, hoping to catch her off-guard. The rogue's daggers are unable to sink into flesh, but do leave shallow lines of blood down her arm.

Oren flanks the figure from the other side, moving behind her. His arcane blast hits the figure between the shoulder blades. As previously, she does not move, but Votig sees the irritation on her face.

Elise notices Eliam's discomfort and moves over to heal him. She reaches out to lay hands on him, pauses, and whispers to him, "do... do you think she could teach me how to fly like that? I could see the clouds close up..."

The destined figure's sword changes colors from red to orange. "Your magics irritate me. I will be free of them." Her sword flashes out at Votig and catches him low, at his unprotected legs.

Votig's furious punches pummel the figure. She parries some, but feels the sting of his might on others.

"Now's probably not the best time to ask her," Eliam replies to Elise, preparing to attack once more. He manages a lethal blow against the figure with his arcane blast. The figure deftly backhand-swings her sword and hits the spell in mid-air. A sound like a deep, low gong resonates through the hallway and the blast is absorbed into the blade. "Pitiful."

Minerva presses her attack while the figure is blocking Eliam's blast. "I think you pissed her off!" Her daggers sink true for minor damage.

Oren goes further into the library, looking for cover and checking to make sure the orbs and books are still safe. He fires an arcane blast at the figure as he moves. The spell erupts into being, a lethal blow in the making as it tears through the air. The figure pirouettes and catches the attack with her orange blade. "Again? Useless." The blast is sucked into the weapon.

Elise shakes her head. "Oh! Right. I was doing something.” She turns to Eliam to heal him, extends her hands, then picks at a loose thread. "I think my sister could fix this if you are interested..."

The figure's sword changes color from orange to yellow. "Cower before me, pitiable mortals!" An overwhelming aura of malice radiates from her. She lashes out at Votig unsuccessfully.

As her back is turned to deflect Oren's attack, Votig unleashes a combination of punches for moderate damage.

Eliam frowns at Elise. "This is why you shouldn't bring children to a fight."

Elise absentmindedly says, "If I see any children, I will tell them so."

He attempts to fire as they speak, but his spell sails wide.

Oren breaks free of the aura's grip, and fires a spell of his own. The figure staggers as the lethal arcane blast hits her squarely in the torso. She is knocked back several feet.

Elise looks at Eliam. "I hope we don't find any children here. You're right, that would be terrible." She lays hands on him and closes some of his wounds.

He looks at her, confused. "I... you're what, 10? 12? I meant you."

She tilts her head. "I'm 19." Eliam laughs, assuming she's telling a joke.

The figure's sword changes color from yellow to green. "Your blows mean nothing!" she says to Votig. She swings her sword at him and fails to land a blow once more. She screams in irritation.

Eliam attempts to fire once again. Still distracted by the conversation, his attack soars wide.

The rogue attacks. "If physical attacks won't work, then..." her eyes glow red as her daggers spin, flames flying from the metal. The daggers leave a singed wound on the figure's back, but the figure barely flinches from it.

Oren takes a moment to check the library. The library looks untouched from their time there yesterday. After making sure the library is fine, he sends a spell at the figure. The massive arcane blast created by Oren barrels down the hallway, smashing into the side of the figure's head. She staggers and catches herself against a wall. Blood is now seeping from multiple wounds on her body.

"That looks easy enough..." Elise says to herself, and she fires an arcane blast at the figure. Her spell hits the figure, but is too weak to break through her armor. "Oh... I suppose not," she says, disappointed.

The figure's sword changes color from green to blue. "I see all; I am one with all!" She cries. He interprets Oren as her biggest threat, and charges over to him. The figure's sword slashes out at him and catches him on the torso and arm.

Votig roars and charges the Figure, his fists a blur of speed. The air cracks as his punches split the air, pummeling the foe. She falls against the doorway, and struggles to push herself back up.

Elise decides to try an arcane blast again. Her spell shimmers through the air as it connects with the figure. She is unprepared for the attack, as she has been focused on Votig and Minerva. It hits the back of the figure's head, and with a powerful explosion, her head falls off. It flies away and bounces down the hallway, a shocked expression on its face.

The Group Searches the Library
Minerva stares, astonished for a moment, and then she runs forward and grabs Elise. "Okay, that... that was a nice shot. Now get in the library."

The figure's body collapses and begins to dissipate.

"Is she dead?" Oren asks, as the group piles into the room.

"It looks that way," Minerva replies.

Oren immediately begins searching the library for books. He finds a tome on blood magic, while Eliam pulls down books at random.

“Can you guys find an escape route?” Oren asks, his tone impatient. He piles the books into Elise's hands.

As she accepts the books, she looks at the orbs. "Should we take these? The orcs are likely to just break them."

Minerva pockets her red orb. Elise takes the purple.

"You should grab whatever you can carry,” Eliam advises her. “Good rule of thumb when you can finally be left alone somewhere.”

"There are only the grey and yellow ones left. Eliam, Votig, grab yours," Minerva says as she runs to the door to peek outside. The bard quickly grabs his.

Votig shakes his head no. "Go barricade the door with some tables, since it's broken,” Oren calls out. “That'll buy us time."

"Good thinkin' lad," he agrees.

Minerva peeks out the door and then back in. She goes to help the dwarf barricade the door. "More orcs," she says. "They're coming. If we have a plan to get out, we need to use it quickly."

Oren places the ladder in the most stable spot he can to get to the top of the rope. As he places the ladder in the new spot, the locket he is wearing increases in temperature. “Minerva, can you climb it and cut the rope with your dagger? Try to get a lot of rope. And try not to ring the bell."

Quickly, the mage takes the books Eliam has pulled down. He leads Elise to the chest, carefully removing the yellow orb without directly touching it. He places the books within. Moving away from the spot that he placed the ladder has cooled the locket down.

Minerva ascends the ladder and effortlessly cuts the rope. She slides back down the ladder. "We don't have much time. Those orcs will be down here in a minute."

Oren returns to the ladder, trying to estimate if there's enough rope to rappel down from the window. As he approaches the ladder, the locket begins to warm up considerably. As he climbs the ladder, the locket cools.

Oren looks out the window when he reaches the top. “How did they climb up?” he calls out. “It's 60 feet down." He returns to the ground, and the locket warms considerably. "This locket keeps getting hot," he says, handing it to Eliam. He walks out to the hallway, preparing to climb over the tables.

Minerva grabs him before he can climb. "There are two dozen orcs in that hallway and coming this way! What are you doing?!"

"Right out there? I thought they were further away..." he hops down. "Well, I don't know if we can get down 60 feet. Maybe there's a lower window.”

Eliam begins walking around carrying the locket. It cools as he goes eastward and southward from the ladder's spot. To the north is the wall. Moving west, it heats up even further.

Two feet. Three feet. Four feet. Five. The locket glows from the heat, and before Eliam, a glyph appears in the stone. It looks identical to the one that glows each day and night in the sky.

"Hey!” Eliam shouts, calling everyone over. “There's a glyph over here!"

"A Lyriad glyph?" Oren asks.

Elise runs over. Minerva grabs one end of the trunk filled with books and Votig's orb, and signals Votig to help her carry it.

"No, it's a different symbol. But maybe it'll work the same way.”

Elise says, "Oooooooh. It's so pretty."

The group struggles to get the chest over to the glyph. Chompy looks at Votig with judgment and disappointment as he abandons his orb on the ground.

The group drops the chest beside the glyph. "Okay. Are we doing this?" asks Minerva. The sound of a dozen footsteps is audible outside the library.

"It's probably too late to try anything else" Eliam says.

"Okay. Hopefully the chest comes with us." She picks up one side, and and looks to the others to see who will pick up the other.

Eliam grabs some nearby books, placing them in his pack in case the chest fails to travel with them.

Elise shrugs and admits, "I don't think I could even come close to lifting it. I'll test this..." She steps on the glyph, and vanishes.

Eliam and Oren both step forward and take the opposite side of the chest with Minerva. With Oren and Eliam on the far side, Minerva begins backing up with the trunk onto the glyph. She steps onto it before the trunk is on the glyph as well, and she vanishes. The trunk falls to the ground, short of the glyph.

Oren tosses a random book on the glyph. Nothing happens. Sighing, he fill Eliam’s arms with books and takes the locket back. “Go through.”

Eliam complies, and vanishes with an armful of books.

Oren does the same to Votig, filling his arms. He points at the glyph. “Stand there.” He waits for the dwarf to move. He does so, and vanishes as well.

Oren forces as many books as he can through the glyph with him. As the table at the doorway begin to collapse, the mage disappears.

Chapter 6