Through the Wall

I will not dwell much longer on Ignacius, except to say that poor man. We really ruined his hovel. As things had finally begun to simmer down from our chaotic arrival, Duraz and Blackthorne showed up late, setting off some of the same alarms again. Sympathetic to the havoc we brought with us, I asked him if we could leave anything as partial compensation. He eyed Roscoe’s dagger a while before settling for a mundane sword one of the members of Force Grey offered. I know I said I would stop dwelling on him, but we noted that Ignacius seemed inherently connected to the animals. I also have my doubts about whether Ignacius ever leaves this home.
 
Our work ruining Ignacius’ day done, we set out in earnest, toward Teoria. Force Grey maintained a secure rear, except Rue, who stayed very close to me. I didn’t mind. Truthfully, I feel stronger in every way with him by my side. Many of our other companions fanned out to focus on various things—Holly and Myri to the flanks, Phillip… somewhere, completely disappearing in the shadows in a way that perhaps only rivaled Roscoe’s stealthiness, and the hooded figure at a very practical, off-center following distance from me. It felt natural, like our de facto formation was the only way of moving forward. I did not pay it much attention at that time.
 
As we traveled, I came to discover that Phillip had created a telepathic bond between many of us, excluding the entirety of CYA other than me. I can’t say I blame him. So he along with me, Rue, Saxon, Holly, Myri, Percy, and that mysterious hooded figure could communicate. It proved useful for coordinating such a large group’s movements, though it was a challenge that it left me in charge of the CYA riff raff. We all noted the alarming landscape, clearly affected by death magic. Trees were somehow menacing. They came in three varieties—black with thick, red blood-sap; bone white and likely made of actual bone; and sickly gray, turned to stone and drained of life. Duraz investigated them to the best of his ability and received a stab from a root in response. We later discovered that undead animals chewing on the trees yielded the petrified gray ones, confirming vitality was leached from them.
 
Blackthorne’s transformation along the journey was disconcerting. He found the blood-sap fascinating and determined that it likely formed the entirety of the forest’s groundwater throughout the area. The idea seemed to excite him. Later on, while using his spyglass, he got distracted by the undulating heartbeat of the land itself. I would describe it as a horrendous sight, but he seemed to truly be enjoying himself. Rue and I kept a wary eye on Blackthorne, and I swear I heard Rue somewhat sadly say to the pirate captain, “I’m gonna have to kill you one day.” Later in the day, we also saw Blackthorne use new blood magic he had not had before. It’s all worrying.
 
Blackthorne seemed to be having an increasingly difficult time distinguishing reality and trick. He told us his dreams felt like days of nightmares in which he saw Pech and the mask and kept reliving the day he stole the Octavius. Then, sometimes when he woke, it would switch to a new dream. The death of his friend during the theft, the moment he was marooned on an island and decided not to end his life but rather get his ship back. Phillip confirmed Blackthorne’s tie to Pech and the Octavius’ identity. He asked Blackthorne whether he had ever tried talking to Pech in the dream, but Blackthorne admitted he usually ran away. Phillip suggested talking and hinted that perhaps “therapizing” a god could work. (I remember glancing at Seksgar at this.)
 
At a certain point, we decided we needed more information about what we were walking into. Myri scried on Teoria’s entry gates, beholding millions of undead teeming all around the city’s walls. She described streams of blood running through the battlefield, draining into the ground, from an unfathomable number of killed innocents. The symbols of Mirkul and Tajna far and wide. She also described the many mages and warriors atop the city’s walls and the heavy fortifications at the gates. At one point, her eyes dimmed, like she was losing her hold on life, and she later said that was when Mirkul was calling to her to join him.
 
More somberly, we continued. Seksgar navigated and I kept my eyes well trained on everything. In retrospect, I realize how many dozens of times the hooded stranger whistled and my subconscious reacted. I had long since stopped questioning his presence because it felt familiar and right. The stranger also gave Seksgar pairs of distances—one to Teoria and the other to some location east, without explanation. After dozens of normal whistled signals that tracked with minor threats or obstacles, my body reacted nearly before my mind in response to a sharper whistle. I told the party to get higher ground or prepare to fight before scaling a gray tree nearby. I had to get into position to defend those who stayed below. Phillip passed the warning along the telepathic connection, and as we readied ourselves, several sets of undead animals emerged—deer, rabbits, and squirrels. They were a lifeless kind of rabid, and we saw as the squirrels leached some life from a nearby still-living tree. During our brief skirmish, we saw the forest send rooty tendrils to reclaim the fallen undead, taking their blood, flesh, and eventually bone.
 
We made quick work of the creatures. I admit most of my focus was on the cloaked stranger and the way he suboptimally left himself vulnerable to one of the deer to position himself to take on the next threat. I destroyed the maimed deer he had turned his back to, and in that moment I found myself standing in a thousand tree branches shooting threats over someone’s shoulder. Over Vicol’s shoulder. Though this figure before me now did not look like him, there was something in how he carried himself that did remind me strongly of my former partner. This stranger’s coal-black eyes practically emanated hatred, and though he was handsome enough, the ashy skin and black-and-white hair was not Vicol. As soon as the animals were re-dead, I demanded that the figure identify himself. He said he was called Lovic and told me I had once known him, in a circuitous way. Despite him not looking like Vicol, I was convinced, and told Rue as much.
 
Roscoe had a brief moment to be horrified at the animal carnage before a stampede of damaged, petrified, partially eaten, or otherwise corrupted animals thundered past us, running from something. A cloud passed over the sun and it suddenly felt dark and ominous, like a storm approaching on the horizon. And then, even before I saw him, I knew it was him. The Nydra incantation, the astral moonlight with purples and blues, the powerful-yet-calming sight of disintegrating undead… except before he came into view, the delighted cackle of the only chaotic demon summoner I have ever known followed the lumbering figure of a very injured barlgura crashing through trees to tear a shambling mound in two before the demon, too, vanished. And then, there was Nadira. And Shaw behind her, asking her not to summon something else yet because he sensed something good ahead. (In retrospect, Holly’s extreme annoyance about Rue’s earnest goodness giving us away like a beacon is amusing. I barely heard it at the time.) Nadira saw the opportunity for messiness and looked pleased as she called Shaw over. Lovic shrunk away into the shadows at the pair’s arrival.
 
My discomfort only grew when the greeting failed to remain entirely platonic, or when Rue leaned forward and shook Shaw’s hand and the pair of them spoke about tactical and logistical things, or when Phillip stood calmly next to me and did not miss an ounce of what was going on there. Myri and Nadira became instant friends. (I hesitate to imagine what a demon summoner and undead specialist could dream up in tandem.) I think most of the gravity of this for me was lost on the rest of them, and I’d like to keep it that way. I wish I could read Rue’s mind. He said we were fine, but that answer felt insufficient. In the course of our brief conversation, Shaw said he had specifically told The Protectors not to recall me and that he had been told I had a more important purpose. I did not get to press him for more details, but I intend to have a much, much longer conversation with this ghost of my past.
 
We gathered some more information and determined there was a strong regional area effect taking place, and the forest itself was a nervous system-like structure, more flesh than earth. The coordinates on Seksgar’s map, largely provided by Lovic, correlated with the source of the effect, seemingly. Lovic was fixated only on a supposed necromancer in that space (and, to a lesser extent, with casually tearing my heart out of my chest and destroying it). Nadira sent imps to pull Roscoe high enough to see the scale and scope of what was at hand. We also learned there was a dracolich here—an amethyst one that would likely not appreciate some of us wearing its skin.
 
Shaw and Nadira were to lead us to the city. Force Grey would support our advance until needing to split off, heading to the gate. There was a place in the stone wall for us to enter before taking a circuitous route to Selma. Before we moved forward, Phillip and Shaw both granted me magical boons of protection, while Lovic helped the group’s overall stealth. Shaw also warned the group that if someone were to fall, they needed to find him before the moon rose. Another curious statement—surely his magic would be most potent under the full light of Nydra’s blessing?
 
We finally entered the fray proper. As we did, Shaw pointed out the ways Protectors were keeping a secondary makeshift wall up to protect civilians pressed against the city’s walls but otherwise trapped and vulnerable. We blasted our way through—I admit Seksgar’s use of a potion derived from Vityalsi was beyond impressive—slowly but surely gaining each foot of progress. We all relied on our strengths, on our divine boons, and on our wits. Somehow CYA is at its most effective when nearly dying. Duraz even summoned an earth elemental, which I noted was not keen to interact with what had previously been earth and was now necromantic, cursed flesh. Blackthorne did some new blood magic I had not witnessed before, not assuaging my concerns about his condition.
 
And then my focus was so very taken by a nonsensical, asinine display. A loud horn sounded, and a massive, majestic elk decked out in unnecessary barding strode forward. Behind it was the familiar insignia of fucking Kenaserin. As I processed this fact, a crier called out, “Citizens of Teoria! Kenaserin is here to help! Necromancers, be warned. We wield the power of the light of Ki herself…” It went on a while, declaring themselves the champions of the land. Until finally, “...led by Haldir the Great of Kenaserin.” Mercifully, this pulled a LOT of attention that direction and undoubtedly aided our movement.
 
Eventually, we split from Force Grey, leaving them to head toward the main gate while we made a stealthier approach. Duraz wielded fire that both Phillip and mages on the wall used to both enhance the obscuring effects and create a massive symbol of Teoria in the sky, a small act of visible defiance. Duraz’s elemental continued pummeling things, Roscoe used a brightness gem to blast, and we all continued to frantically push through the melee. I cast another instance of a traceless passage spell, adding to the boon Vicol had already given us. From my vantage point atop Rue’s shoulders, I directed the group. Seksgar and Holly made great use of teamwork, feeding creature after creature to the barbarian’s hungry bag. Duraz and I continued to use smoke (natural and magically bottled). Roscoe seemed distracted a moment, but I think he spoke to his “friend,” because suddenly the shadows became darker and more cloaking. It felt like more than just mundane darkness.
 
And somehow, some way, we made it through that wall. I will have to continue the narrative later. There’s still much to do.