Hello, Everyone!
Last time, just as our heroes were celebrating their victory over Nurvureem, their ex-friend (and current Draconite) Tesaya teleported into Dynatos Perres’ office. She showed them the Morgantian axe that tore Balaine Endoras’ soul, demanded that they stopped arming against her Master Trax’rion and informed them that his army wouldn’t be attacking Erathos during the winter as a show of good faith. After a short discussion about ideals and intentions, she teleported away.
The crackling ends of the lightning vanished in the middle of the room and were replaced by silence. Mary turned to Aurum.
"What the hell?" she said. "What did you call Tesaya for? And why did you hide it from us?!"
“She sent me a Мessage,” Aurum said. “Wanted to congratulate us for our victory, and I used the moment to ask about the axe. You know I want us to resurrect Balaine, and I needed to know more about the weapon that killed him.”
“And then you invited her here?”
“No, she came out of her own volition.”
Dynatos Perres slumped on the desk that Tesaya had previously occupied. Agatha turned to him.
“So, Mr. Perres, what do you think about this 'peaceful invasion'?”
“There’s nothing peaceful about it,” he said. “They will spread rumours about the horrible things Nurvureem did, and will try to convince the people that, if they listened to Trax’rion, the same won’t happen to them. That’s nothing less than extortion.”
The ruler of Pamagos sighed and rubbed his temples.
“Look I know I’m not the perfect ruler,” he said. “Nobody is. People have been praising the Empire that ended 50 years ago for a reason. We all ruled together then. The leaders who were good at diplomacy, led the peaceful negotiations. The ones who excelled in fighting, led the armies.”
He took his pipe and starting filling it with tobacco.
“The truth is that this ‘peace’ talk is a sham. They're not generous and benevolent. Trax'rion and Morgax simply can’t attack us during winter. Morgax' army is comprised by goblins and orcs, they are native to tropical climate and won't handle our winter well. As for Trax'rion – Tesaya said that they were going to gather their army from beyond Kipsos. That means Yuan-ti and lizardfolk – coldblooded creatures who can’t fight in this weather. Our position is not as dire as they want us to believe.”
“So, what do we do?” Agatha asked.
There was silence in the room as everyone was ruminating on this question.
“One thing I’ve been thinking of, in the short run,” Bruno said, ”is to try and find Nurvureem’s cave. Her treasure must be there for the taking and we can use it to better the land tormented by her. We also have a resurrection to arrange? We carried people in here and we need to do that as soon as possible.”
Mary knew that he was thinking about Paulina, too. Her heart grew heavy remembering her friend’s body in the jaws of Nurvureem.
“We then need to see if we can do anything about Trax’rion and Morgax,” Mary added. “While they are still preparing for the spring.”
“What if we tried attracting the White Queen on our side?” Aurum said. “We can send her another handsome spellcaster to enchant her.” He smoothed out his hair with a well-practiced motion.
“Having the White Queen on our side is like smashing that one fly that irritates you with an iron hammer,” Agatha said.
“Maybe we call upon Franny then?” Aurum said. Mary glared at him at the mention of the petname he’d invented for the most powerful wizard of their age. “After all, she said she could potentially defeat Trax’rion.”
“I can’t send her a Message,” Bruno said and shook his head. “I’m spent.”
“That won't be a problem,” Dynatos Perres said.
He reached into a drawer in his desk and took out a small stone.
“You can speak the message directly into the stone,” he said. “The other end is with Francesca.”
Bruno took the stone. With the confidence of one who’d sent many Messages through his life, he spoke into it, mentioning Nurvureem and Racox’s deaths, as well as the fact that they managed to get the sword but not the Hand of Vecna.
“We need a new teleportation circle coordinates for Zerakas tol,” he added at the end. “Ours is compromised.”
Less than a minute after his Message, a blue glow appeared in the room. It formed a glimmering doorway. Through it, Francesca Findabair and Edmund Bright emerged.
– – –
Lady Findabair was dressed in a simple green gown, embroidered with golden thread. Edmund was prancing behind her, a big smile drawn on his young face.
“I told you!” he said.
“Yes, you did,” Lady Findabair said with a reserved smile. She turned to face the room. “It seems like you four have done it, congratulations. Edmund was right to trust you.”
The Mage asked for the whole story and, one over the other, Mary and her friends told her everything about Racox, the skin of Diohastos, the demonic ritual of the Cult of Tiamat and the fight with Nurvureem. When they started talking about the giant ape and its final blows at the dragon, Mary had her eyes firmly set on the ground, feeling embarrassed.
Edmund could hardly wait for them to finish.
“Where’s the sword?” he asked excitedly.
“We have a problem with that sword,” Aurum said with a sly smile. “See, when I first saw it, I wanted it for myself.” The bard rolled up his sleeve and showed them the tattoo on his forearm. “Now, it seems like I wouldn’t be able to use it--it weighing, like, three tons--but I still see it as a loss. I’d need some sort of compensation for this.”
Lady Findabair rolled her eyes. She reached into the wide sleeves of her dress and took out a something small. It looked like a bee, or maybe a wasp. The Mage put it on the table between them and it started humming, filling the room with a constant noise. Mary blinked into her Eldritch sight and saw some abjuration magic spreading from the creature.
“What’s that?” Aurum said. “Our prize?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Mary scoffed. “It must be something to interfere with any scrying attempts. Right?”
Seeing Francesca Findabair nod filled her with satisfaction.
“Ok, but is it for us?” Aurum said, looking at it with glimmering eyes.
Francesca Findabair was unperturbed. “No,” she said. “It’s here because any moment now you’re going to start blabbering about things nobody else should know.”
Aurum didn’t seem very satisfied by the answer.
“Look, Sir Aurum,” Edmund said. “If you become a dragon one day, I’ll just give you the sword.”
“What?” Agatha whispered to Mary. “Is that even possible?”
Mary shrugged. With magic almost anything was possible.
“Until then, however,” Aurum insisted, “I thought of something else you can do for me, but…” he glanced at Mary, “Mary will scold me.”
“What are you talking about? I’d never!” Mary protested.
“Well, all right then. You have to let me fly on top of you.”
“Aurum!” Mary gasped.
“See? I told you Mary will object.”
Edmund grinned.
“Alright,” he said, the boy's eyes glinting with mischief. “But I’ll raise the stakes. I’ll be invisible.”
“Deal!” Aurum said.
“Let’s do it then!”
Edmund climbed the windowsil and prepared to jump. Aurum took a step back.
“What, now?” he blurted. “I…”
“It’s alright if you’re scared,” Edmund laughed. “Anyway. Francesca, I’m going for the sword.”
And he jumped.
Francesca Findabair and Edmund Bright are such an interesting pairing :) I hope you like them coming to the scene right after Tesaya left. We deserved some levity after all that we’ve been through! Oh, and you haven’t forgotten that Edmund is secretly a Silver dragon, right? That’s the reason he’s so excited about the sword, as well as why Lady Francesca made sure someone didn’t spill the beans on this major secret.
See you next time to see what’ll happen to the sword.
Take care and be well!
(Also, here's a link to the Chapter Guide, the Glossaries (Part 1 and Part 2)
and the Map for the series. You're welcome!)
An important disclaimer: Mary Windfiddle's story is my notes from a D&D game turned into a narrative. All the worldbuilding and NPC encounters belong to our DM, and all the actions of the other main characters (Aurum, Bruno and Agatha) belong to my co-players. My contribution to the story is only everything Mary-related (actions, reactions, inner thoughts), as well as the writing itself.