Session 19: Fair Cop
General Summary
Crownsday, 5 Sunfall, 998 Y.K.
The party was awoken far too early the next morning by Giff, who came to tell the party they had, of all things, a visitor. Rakela Mitelemnamaril had come to see them. However, the khorvaran before them looked quite unlike the last time they’d met her. A simple cloth hood covered her vibrant multicolor hair, and her blue and silver brocade had given way to close-fit shellweave in greys and blacks. She met the party, her face carefully held neutral, and asked Giff if she could have a few minutes of their guests’ time. The larger human nodded and returned to his patrol, and once he was out of earshot, the military agent informed the party that last night’s work hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Rakela told the group that one of her contemporaries working for the King’s Lanterns had been in attendance at the ball, as part of the bardic circle which had been witness to everything that transpired, right up until the aftermath. They saw the party move to defend Emmer Sykes from the raiding party, which they noted seemed very well coordinated and equipped. They saw one member of the group disappear, and heard Veora report that the working skillshare had been stolen. They saw Senna Redeker take paper-mirages of the fallen raiders and heard her say she would be reporting the party directly to the queen. Taken all together, it seemed clear that Aundair’s official stance would be unfavorable to everyone present that night.
Worse, Rakela’s colleague had reported all of this to a select group of officers as a witness, a magical testament to his perceptions that couldn’t easily be faked. The party was already known to the Brelish government; Rakela herself had spoken well of them in her reports on the Morgrave University expedition to Eston, and their work with the Sewer Reclamation Project and Sharn’s Watch had met with much approval. Those deeds threatened to be vastly overshadowed by these new revelations, and that didn’t bode well for the Heart and Hammer, or their other dreams.
The khorvaran believed the party hadn’t gotten the whole story in advance, or they’d never have agreed to the job. It remained to be seen, however, whether they could prove that. Rakela had a plan, one that required the party to make their way to Arcanix, get a room, leave word at the Witch’s Wand where they could be found, and then wait for further instructions. Beyond that, she said only that she needed the party to understand that they were going to have to trust her, and that she really did need their help, but that this had to be their decision.
Her message delivered, Rakela took her leave, leaving the party to decide amongst themselves whether to head to Arcanix. Milli reminded the group that she’d needed to go to Arcanix anyway, in hopes of beating Morran to the press. Bell and Medya agreed to help Milli, and Relic, Spark, and Zer’ agreed that Rakela sounded serious. With that decided, the party hastily packed and asked Giff to find Ander, so that the party could thank him for his hospitality before they left. When the halfling arrived, he clasped arms with Relic and thanked the monk in return for ridding the Wayfinders of a mole, one they’d overlooked for years. Imre’d had everyone believing that Boroman’s mind was going; this had given everyone, including ir’Dayne himself, a much needed call to action. All Relic needed to do, Ander told him, was to find a way through the storm and they’d schedule the next trip they could for Rokugan. In the meantime, however, Arcanix awaited.
—
Zer’ had the glyphs for the teleportation circle at the Public Library at Arcanix in the Morgrave University correspondences. Ander offered the use of the Wayfinder’s circle, though not its own signature. “If you join one day,” he offered, as the party took their leave. The world spun as the Adaran opened the gate, the planes danced, and the Wayfinder’s stone slabs gave way to a circle of wooden columns, intricately carved. The library’s receiving hall was masonry to the Wayfinder’s field stone, and a bored-looking guard approached and asked their names and business, and whether they had an appointment. Spark asked for directions to the Witch’s Wand; the guard pointed to a map on the wall, then returned to her post.
Outside, the ground was cast into shadow. Overhead, four towers of stone and crystal spiraled up into the heavens, their sides bursting with walkways and bridges that unfurled into one another like living behemoths as their walls erupted in cornices and rooms blossomed across their exteriors. The Arcane Congress danced as it flew overhead, its four buildings spinning one way, then another, drifting above the town of Arcanix as a mad spiderweb that dreamed of an arcology. It loomed above the city, never tipping and yet constantly seeming one breeze from clipping any number of the towers built just to clear its underside.
The Witch’s Wand was a short distance, but a long walk, from the library; unlike Fairhaven’s clean grid, Arcanix’s roads meandered and curled, full of half-alleys and cul-de-sacs. Where Fairhaven had towered above the river and the rail from atop a mountain, Arcanix nestled up close to the ground, pressing up against Lake Galifar. The shortest path to the Witch’s Wand cut through a public portal designated by a nearby plaque as “reliable,” which dumped out onto a thoroughfare filled with buildings displaying some affiliation with the Congress. Magic mouths called out daily specials while images of fantastic beasts alternately beckoned and posed, inviting guests to spend their coin. Above the Witch’s Wand Public House, illusory wands spun and dumped glitter on the sidewalks below that vanished in clouds of smoke.
The noise outside abated as soon as the doors closed, magically stifled to permit the guests some privacy. The half-elven barkeep introduced themself as Meryn and asked the party what brought them to the Witch’s Wand. Spark said that their friend Rakela had asked them to meet her here, and to leave word where they’d be staying. Meryn nodded and rapped once in the bar in recognition of the name, then said they could recommend the rooms here, or half a dozen others besides, no kickbacks. Spark asked if there was space where they wouldn’t be disturbed, and Meryn came up with keys for three rooms that formed a suite near the corner of the rear hall. Dinner, they said, was from an hour before dark to an hour after, and breakfast from one hour after day to two, with a hot scrub for a copper apiece.
Once settled, the party had little to do but wait for Rakela to arrive. The time seemed to crawl, until hours later a knock heralded the return of the Brelish agent. She had arranged with Leali to meet everyone in the Arcanix, and Leali had agreed — despite her extreme trepidation — to risk returning to the Arcane Congress one more time to help her friends. The professor had already been told of the plan, because of the part she needed to play, and she’d already agreed and started Rakela’s plan in motion: to recruit Emmer Sykes away from Aundair under promise of a Brelish pardon, then double-cross him and turn him over to the Brelish military for a public tribunal.
Rakela then explained that Emmer Sykes had created horrors for the war on Cyre’s behalf, among them a magical disease known as “the rust plague.” Cyran forces had released it at Kennrun, crippling a company of Brelish forged while their grown compatriots stood by unscathed and helpless to stop it. The use of arcane plagues had been ruled irredeemable act, one of merely a few Emmer Sykes and his cohort in the Cyran military had created during the Last War. Several days before the Day of Mourning, several Brelish military seers reported a vision in which several Cyran military sages — Sykes among them — had fled Cyre just before the second sacking of Metrol. Their own seers had likely foreseen the coming disaster and sought refuge anywhere they could trade their considerable arcane talents for safety from their many enemies. With an eye towards justice, the Brelish military had traced Sykes to the Arcane Congress, but the campus’ wards made scrying within impossible.
Helping bring down Sykes would go a long way towards restoring Brelish trust, as well as providing a convenient alibi for their previous actions. Rakela volunteered to bring Sykes to justice as soon as she’d heard her colleague’s witness, and her commander agreed to let her try. Leali had been part of the Congress’ Prophetics department, in the Divinations school. She had old colleagues who might give her an audience. She could recite Rakela’s colleague’s witness of Emmer Sykes as a scrying target, one only a few days old. A powerful enough scrying — such as one from a professor — with such a strong lead coming from within the campus itself ought to be enough to pinpoint Sykes to within a few feet. That would lead Rakela to Sykes to present an offer to let bygones be bygones and find common ground away from Kennrun in exchange for his services. It would look like a chance for Emmer Sykes to rebuild his life, one hopefully enticing enough for him to take. Assuming he did, the party would then make their way up towards the airship-dock on the roof of Nocturnas. There, they’ll meet up with one of Rakela’s other contacts, a sky captain from the House of Storm, who’ll fly Sykes back to Xandrar and into custody with the Brelish military.
Improbable though the operation sounded, the party saw little alternative. Plus, this gave Milli access to the Arcane Congress via Leali, a welcome path through the front door via invitation from a resident. The group quickly agreed, then scattered to look about the town and await Leali’s arrival. Bell went looking about their storefronts, while Spark sought out a place to work out. Relic and Zer’ studied separately, while Milli and Medya went over Milli’s notes for publication.
Thronesday, 6 Sunfall, 998 Y.K. The next morning, Leali arrived via an odd contraption, a cart seemingly pulling itself via a collection of phantom steeds. The professor cracked her reins once, and the ghostly horses faded so that she could dismount. Leali brought greetings from Veora in the form of a much improved mana reservoir, smaller and yet more durable. Milli asked how dangerous they were, and Leali said to look for herself. The enchantments around the crystals showed that, should they become overwhelmed, they would simply disintegrate rather than discharge, which Milli accepted as adequate. This led everyone to ask Leali when they’d be returning to the Mournland, to which Leali only said they should worry about getting out of the Arcane Congress first. She’d sent word to Margana Corleis, one of her former peers, but hadn’t heard back yet. Until she did, there was little to do but wait. It was late afternoon before the response finally came, in the form of a note directing “Leali and company” to the wall outside a nearby building, where a door sat flush with the stone, leading nowhere. Behind the door, a hallway extended rapidly into the distance. Once through, the door behind them closed, now leading only to an empty classroom. Behind them, the hallway ran with doors to either side, some numbered, others named. The hallways seemed to bend and turn behind the group as they crept along the shifting path. Voices echoed strangely down the stone corridors, students, professors, and stranger noises beside. Unfamiliar scents mingled with whiffs of ether and soot. The Arcane Congress seemed to breathe around them. For a brief moment, Relic had the briefest of flashes, a sense that someone like Cinnabar was nearby, that familiar tingle like the one he’d described to Ander. It seemed to pull at him, but then it was gone, clearing as if a cloud had parted. Only the unease of having had it happen remained, one more thing to disorient him. Only the signs that hung every few feet remained unchanging in the middle of the chaos. As Leali approached, they lit up with Professor Corleis’ Office and an arrow consistently pointing the way. The signs to impose some order on the buildings, pointing true as any approached, ensuring that no-one got lost in the labyrinthine halls. The group made their way persistently up a flight of stairs, then a lift, passing down several hallways that seemed to curve back on themselves before opening into a wide open space marked Reception. Near a water-feature to one side of the desks, a dark-skinned heavyset human woman sat on a flying carpet loaded with pillows, waving her cane in greeting. Leali ran up to Margana and greeted her old friend with clasped arms, then enthusiastically introduced her friends to her old colleague. The diviner nodded to each of the party in turn, though she frowned at the khorvaran, who shrugged in response. When Leali motioned to Milli, she said that this was the colleague she’d hoped to sponsor for publication, to which Margana heartily clapped Milli on the shoulder and said the Arcane Congress was proud to support the free exchange of arcane knowledge. Ms. Corleis said that she’d take Milli to the open library, but first she needed to give the briefest of tours for the group’s safety. She pointed to the tower of Amberwall and indicated it was completely off-limits to non-professors and staff; this was the private research wing, and not a place for visitors. Her own offices were in Glarehold, while Nocturnas was their current location, the gateway back to Arcanix and residence quarters, along with entry-level student classrooms, kitchens, and recreation. The group stopped briefly at a set of dorm rooms that would serve as their temporary residence, then headed to their final destination: Skyreach. Skyreach was the tower of the Arcane Congress devoted to student classes and public research. The Open Library seemed to fill a cavernous space, while books fluttered from shelf to shelf like birds, flapping their covers and dancing in flocks as they sorted and resorted themselves. Students sat at worktables and desks scattered about the shelves, while librarians and sages strolled about looking for people in need of assistance. Margana approached one of the staff, motioned to Milli, and then escorted the unicorn to a table and said this would be reserved for her, and reference materials could be left here without fear of them being reshelved. The librarian walked her through the process of summoning a book from the flocks and shelves, then left the group to get on with their research. As Milli settled in to get started, a forged that stood barely to Spark’s shoulder came running up to the group in a hurry. Their wide blue eyes flickered owlishly as they introduced themself as Codex, the research assistant assigned to Milli’s paper. They were so excited to be helping, and so eager to show how much they’d learned. They challenged the unicorn to give them a subject, then raced off to the stacks at Milli’s suggestion, coming back with an array of scrolls and journals all on related subjects. Thus established, they settled in and awaited Milli’s next request, and she and Medya hunkered down to begin Milli’s publication in earnest. Zer began to delve into what the Open Library held on “the subtle arts,” as the texts here called mindmagic, and soon found leads to some ideas for expanding his own focus with the sorcery department. Spark and Relic dug into history and geography, looking for information about Rokugan and the origins of Master Kohai’s school. Rakela, meanwhile, told the party she had contacts of her own to establish, and she invited the group not to get too lost. Leali would convince Margana to help, she was sure, and she had some experience with getting into places she shouldn’t. Soon enough, they’d make contact, and then they’d need to sneak Sykes out past the guards that had once been assigned to protect him. — That night, Relic was pulled out of reverie by a flash, that feeling again. The sense of wrongness, crawling through him. Stronger this time, and longer. It gnawed at him, urging him to follow it. It felt like a sickness he’d been sent to cure, the same sickness as in Cinnabar. He tapped Spark and Bell; they rose and raced after the monk as he followed the pull. It beckoned him, drew him, calling to him stronger and stronger as he raced down twisting corridors. A clap of thunder pealed outside. A scream rang out. The feeling vanished, and the monks raced after the echoes, to find a khorvaran student lying dead of shock, her face frozen in a rictus of surprise.
Thronesday, 6 Sunfall, 998 Y.K. The next morning, Leali arrived via an odd contraption, a cart seemingly pulling itself via a collection of phantom steeds. The professor cracked her reins once, and the ghostly horses faded so that she could dismount. Leali brought greetings from Veora in the form of a much improved mana reservoir, smaller and yet more durable. Milli asked how dangerous they were, and Leali said to look for herself. The enchantments around the crystals showed that, should they become overwhelmed, they would simply disintegrate rather than discharge, which Milli accepted as adequate. This led everyone to ask Leali when they’d be returning to the Mournland, to which Leali only said they should worry about getting out of the Arcane Congress first. She’d sent word to Margana Corleis, one of her former peers, but hadn’t heard back yet. Until she did, there was little to do but wait. It was late afternoon before the response finally came, in the form of a note directing “Leali and company” to the wall outside a nearby building, where a door sat flush with the stone, leading nowhere. Behind the door, a hallway extended rapidly into the distance. Once through, the door behind them closed, now leading only to an empty classroom. Behind them, the hallway ran with doors to either side, some numbered, others named. The hallways seemed to bend and turn behind the group as they crept along the shifting path. Voices echoed strangely down the stone corridors, students, professors, and stranger noises beside. Unfamiliar scents mingled with whiffs of ether and soot. The Arcane Congress seemed to breathe around them. For a brief moment, Relic had the briefest of flashes, a sense that someone like Cinnabar was nearby, that familiar tingle like the one he’d described to Ander. It seemed to pull at him, but then it was gone, clearing as if a cloud had parted. Only the unease of having had it happen remained, one more thing to disorient him. Only the signs that hung every few feet remained unchanging in the middle of the chaos. As Leali approached, they lit up with Professor Corleis’ Office and an arrow consistently pointing the way. The signs to impose some order on the buildings, pointing true as any approached, ensuring that no-one got lost in the labyrinthine halls. The group made their way persistently up a flight of stairs, then a lift, passing down several hallways that seemed to curve back on themselves before opening into a wide open space marked Reception. Near a water-feature to one side of the desks, a dark-skinned heavyset human woman sat on a flying carpet loaded with pillows, waving her cane in greeting. Leali ran up to Margana and greeted her old friend with clasped arms, then enthusiastically introduced her friends to her old colleague. The diviner nodded to each of the party in turn, though she frowned at the khorvaran, who shrugged in response. When Leali motioned to Milli, she said that this was the colleague she’d hoped to sponsor for publication, to which Margana heartily clapped Milli on the shoulder and said the Arcane Congress was proud to support the free exchange of arcane knowledge. Ms. Corleis said that she’d take Milli to the open library, but first she needed to give the briefest of tours for the group’s safety. She pointed to the tower of Amberwall and indicated it was completely off-limits to non-professors and staff; this was the private research wing, and not a place for visitors. Her own offices were in Glarehold, while Nocturnas was their current location, the gateway back to Arcanix and residence quarters, along with entry-level student classrooms, kitchens, and recreation. The group stopped briefly at a set of dorm rooms that would serve as their temporary residence, then headed to their final destination: Skyreach. Skyreach was the tower of the Arcane Congress devoted to student classes and public research. The Open Library seemed to fill a cavernous space, while books fluttered from shelf to shelf like birds, flapping their covers and dancing in flocks as they sorted and resorted themselves. Students sat at worktables and desks scattered about the shelves, while librarians and sages strolled about looking for people in need of assistance. Margana approached one of the staff, motioned to Milli, and then escorted the unicorn to a table and said this would be reserved for her, and reference materials could be left here without fear of them being reshelved. The librarian walked her through the process of summoning a book from the flocks and shelves, then left the group to get on with their research. As Milli settled in to get started, a forged that stood barely to Spark’s shoulder came running up to the group in a hurry. Their wide blue eyes flickered owlishly as they introduced themself as Codex, the research assistant assigned to Milli’s paper. They were so excited to be helping, and so eager to show how much they’d learned. They challenged the unicorn to give them a subject, then raced off to the stacks at Milli’s suggestion, coming back with an array of scrolls and journals all on related subjects. Thus established, they settled in and awaited Milli’s next request, and she and Medya hunkered down to begin Milli’s publication in earnest. Zer began to delve into what the Open Library held on “the subtle arts,” as the texts here called mindmagic, and soon found leads to some ideas for expanding his own focus with the sorcery department. Spark and Relic dug into history and geography, looking for information about Rokugan and the origins of Master Kohai’s school. Rakela, meanwhile, told the party she had contacts of her own to establish, and she invited the group not to get too lost. Leali would convince Margana to help, she was sure, and she had some experience with getting into places she shouldn’t. Soon enough, they’d make contact, and then they’d need to sneak Sykes out past the guards that had once been assigned to protect him. — That night, Relic was pulled out of reverie by a flash, that feeling again. The sense of wrongness, crawling through him. Stronger this time, and longer. It gnawed at him, urging him to follow it. It felt like a sickness he’d been sent to cure, the same sickness as in Cinnabar. He tapped Spark and Bell; they rose and raced after the monk as he followed the pull. It beckoned him, drew him, calling to him stronger and stronger as he raced down twisting corridors. A clap of thunder pealed outside. A scream rang out. The feeling vanished, and the monks raced after the echoes, to find a khorvaran student lying dead of shock, her face frozen in a rictus of surprise.
Report Date
18 Nov 2019
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