With the ‘thief’ Gorron in the care of the Tovrin watch, and Fel and Don on hand as witnesses, I returned to the inn. The book was “still” in the Sipran Keep and it was time for me to act.
I checked with Arthur at the Whalers Retreat about magic – most frowned upon it and did not trust it but I offered aid in repairing the shutters of Fel’s room – and that he accepted, calling it White Magic.
Went to the Lion and Clam, it was filled with people talking about the trial – the town seemed alive, more alive that it had ever been. Gulliam the barkeep said there was some trouble out east at an outlying village, that drew the Sheriff’s attention. Apparently a young girl had ‘escaped’ and made it to town but no one knew anything and no one was told about it either.
I first searched for the Scribe Tavus, but to no avail. The wind and snow was cold, biting through my clothes as I sludged through the thick white, thick, mud like powder that covered the ground. I checked on the guards and they had said Lord Tovrin himself had been called to pass judgement.
I then, on my own, headed towards the Sipran Keep. My initial thoughts were that if another spellcaster resided therein, I could offer knowledge and the chance to share spells with him or her. But it seems fate threw me another hand.
Jonas, Thiridia’s mentor and leader came down the path from the Sipran gatehouse. He naturally stopped me, and we spoke, moving out of the wind where we spoke more.
Much was revealed from both ends:
- Lady Morell Sipran had a ‘way’ to get the the Library – and I mean Stone Crest. She has a magical portal of some sort and the book, the third volume is there – I was sensing it at the Keep because of the portal.
- An Event is brewing, drawing closer. Planets and Stars are aligning and the Titans have a limited window and are running out of time to come back.
- Fenris that called forth the giant against the Demon Boat – Jonas was seriously convinced that it was not a titan, not a frost giant.
All this revealed a third player, a third group involved. The Water Elementals. I have no knowledge of this. Way beyond me, but ice, snow – that is all water.
Someone approached us. Malor Victus. I quivered, visibly. I was terrified been here with the two of them, and the book here. With me. This was bad for me, I could feel it.
With no more than a gesture, he whispered – “Hand me the book, you know it will be safer with us?” I did so. I trusted him, he was a friend and he spoke the truth about the Saint. The Saint was no god, and did not know everything or everyone. “Your friend’s do not need to know of this, until tomorrow or absolutely necessary…”
I nodded, and we parted company.
I returned to the inn to await the others. The dwarves were proving their value to us – they were making ‘friends’ with the Guild Master of the crafters guild.
Eventually we were called back to the court and Fel had to testify. The people seemed to like Lord Tovrin. It was good. Until, Gorron, said that he was cursed – cursed by the Demons of the Pale of War – and the Church had kept him safe, kept it in control. It was ruled that he was guilty of damage to property, but that Lady Sipran would rule on the matter of the curse.
We filtered out of the courthouse and returned to the inn, noticed a cart taking Gorron to the Sirpan Keep. Lightning broke the night sky and lit up the world in a blue-silver light.
Herath spoke of it as a bad omen. The Shadow of the Dragon’s Head. “It is a grave thing, many will die this night and we should leave my friends.”
Fel was adamant to go to the Sipran Keep – that Gorron’s trial was just a ruse to distract everyone from the church’s motives. But I knew otherwise. Jonas was not a prisoner in the Keep – somehow Felghanis seemed to harp on this point.
I repaired the shutter for Arthur, and also put an Endurance Spell on everyone to protect them from a bit of the cold. And also to Protect Herath – he was not willing to stay and this time, Felghanis seemed to insult him. I guess we almost all did, not really paying attention to the tribeman’s warnings. He was afraid, truly afraid and left wishing us luck and ‘hoping’ to see us again.
We headed towards the Sipran tower and things quickly seemed to move now. I was convinced to use my Locate Objectus spell, and sensed a Inquisitor’s mantle, near the other mill towards the Church.
Suddenly a tolling of bell’s sounded, Felghanis in his youthful eagerness rushed ahead and the rest of us hustled.
What came before us was total destruction. The gates had been cut down, in half, with a few swings of a blade. The guards suffered far worse, but I have no doubt they died quickly. I caught sight of Fel and called forth my Message Spell, linking all of us with whisper-calls: we could communicate at range at least.
More death, more blood. Herath was right, frightfully right. And Fel, to a point was as well. Even Don had agreed with him that something was not right before we got here.
Now. Now we heard it laughing, smashing a door to bits as we climbed the stairs and saw it. It was terrible, a bearded beast, humanoid, our size at least – naked, and hoved as well, like a Satyr I heard tales of. But then, its visage shifted and the walls bled with the blood of thousands, the air was thick with the souls of the damned. And I felt my soul screaming out for me to run, but my feet would not listen.
The battle was savage and we hung in there against the odds… blood, wounds, shields shattering, and blades bouncing off of its hide. We were losing.