Session 26: Fair Game
General Summary
Thronesday, 18 Sunfall, 998 Y.K.
The next day was a rush of activity, preparing to help Jorlanna break free of Palor's geas. d'Cannith Veora, Jorlanna's head magewright and assistant, told the party to make themselves welcome. Meledri came that morning at dawn to sit and pray with Jorlanna, while Morran and Veora found other places for the staff and members of House Cannith to be when Palor returned. Relic and Meledri helped Millimax destroy the fiends' remaining lab notes — the only way to be sure none of the evil within could spread. Everyone in the party began calling on favors and offering new ones to secure help for the fight. The explorer Ander Reed seemed to Relic almost too eager to fight a fiend; when Milli called Ploughshare, he seemed far less certain but no less willing to help. Bell asked Smith, who said yes as soon as he heard; and even Transom volunteered when the rumors reached them. Only Dowser didn't come, despite Spark asking Zer to make sure he knew she needed his help. The Adaran was able to send a message, and he knew it'd been received, but no answer came back. At least it confirmed he was still alive. The rest knew the risks; they came anyway.
As the party returned from their various contacts, Watch Captain Aund came by the Cannith West estate escorted by four guards, two of whom were carrying a chest. Aund herself bore a manila folder stuffed with House Kundarak bearer bonds. The gang at the abandoned Flamist temple had quite the haul on them, and Aundairan law entitled the party to ten percent, plus first claim on any magical item with no scryable owner or kin. In this case, that meant three items neatly identified and tucked in straw in an oversized chest. The first was a fist-sized almost-perfectly-spherical clear-as-boiled-ice glass globe labeled drift, which Medya eyed eagerly and taught to float behind her. The second was a beautifully balanced and brightly polished short sword in a well-stitched leather scabbard showing just the right amount of wear and labeled warning, which Relic claimed, passing his guardsarm to Zer.
Lastly, Relic tossed the silver-headed mace sculpted all Klee-Flamist style in sharp-edged cubes and triangles out of silver gleaming like the sun on a dark cloth handle banded in moonmetal tagged disruption to Spark and suggested she give it a few practice swings. She complained the weight and balance were all off, but Relic only laughed and reminded said she should give it time. She swung it, and again, and as she worked with the weight of it, she found it more and more to her liking. It gave weight to her movements, impetus and power. She smiled as she hung it on her belt.
Meledri's magic, at several points, reminded Milli of her granddam, Signal Flare. The elderly pony had been part of the Royal Guard all her life, with a hornglow that shone like silver sunlight. Hoping to shake loose more memories, the unicorn went to the Distant Quarter in search of reminders. At a small Droaam tent, she found tea-smoked apples like the ones her grandparent Soft Light would make for Flare, and a woodsy perfume with an uncanny similarity to what Signal Flare usually wore. She set these out along with a sketch of Signal Flare's brand, a heart made of flame. With these in mind, she took a late afternoon nap while keeping her granddam in her thoughts....
Millimax, a curious filly in her fourth year, stands outside a short fence, shiny sculpted front pasterns resting atop it, watching Signal Flare pace in front of a training dummy. The older pony turns to it, stops, snorts, and rears; as her hooves hit the ground, her wings snap forward, and silvery-white light arcs towards the target. The straw dummy topples from the force of the blow, a patch on its chest singed dark with wisps of smoke rising from them.
When ever-curious Milli asks what the training is for, her granddam explains gently to the young unicorn that sometimes other beings — including some ponies — can't be convinced not to hurt others, and the least harmful way she knows of stopping them is to reflect their hurt back at them while making it clear that there's no joy in having to fight. She asks the filly to promise that if she ever does have to fight she'll use as little force as possible; she promises without hesitation. The older mare kisses Milli's nose, then tells her to head back inside and polish up for dinner.
It took the unicorn a few moments after waking to shake the vision of herself as a filly with harmonized legs, then a few more for her to realize that she already understood Signal Flare's principle in rebuke and that she could expand on those ideas. She approached Bell, who was busy polishing herself to look her best for battle. Quickly, the two alchemists conferred, and then Milli set about crafting new spells to fill out her spellbook with the other arcanist's occasional assistance.
Griffinsday, 19 Sunfall, 998 Y.K. Spark and Relic studied the floorplans of the manor. They knew Palor would come into the ballroom through the front door; he loved making Jorlanna greet him as he came and went, and he loved making a scene of his entrance. Jorlanna had been with him for years; she'd learned how to keep him happy. Their best hope, they decided, was to try to keep d'Orien Palor constrained to the main ballroom. They asked Veora to arcane lock the doors leaving the ballroom before the battle, making sure there was only the one way in or out of the main room. Meledri insisted on being on the floor to face the fiend, and Ploughshare knew how to protect themself and those around them. Smith, the priest, they could ask to stand nearby in case one of them should fall. Milli and Medya, Zer and Bell were all skilled at ranged casting, and Ander was an excellent marksman as well as a fencer. That left the two of them and Transom to wait in one of the front meeting rooms until Palor had entered, closing off his only easy path to escape, or so they hoped. Morran told Jorlanna he expected her to be in the room, to bear witness to what her actions required. Her one mistake so many years ago had been compounding for decades, and now the bill had come due. With heavy heart, the elder d'Cannith agreed. She said she owed it to those she'd let come to harm to face her tormentor. At that, both Morran and Veora put their hands on her shoulders and said she wouldn't face him alone. And so, battle plans drawn, the party withdrew to make final preparations for the day ahead. Palor was due home by lunchtime. Breakfast would need to be light.
Wolfsday, 20 Sunfall, 998 Y.K. The sending came at three bells past sunrise: Palor's railcar had arrived from Passage, and he was in a carriage on his way home. Quickly, everyone gathered in the ballroom, and Medya pulled a can of paint and a brush out of Milli's saddlebags, while the unicorn asked who wanted rainbows. At everyone's incredulous look, she explained that they were a statement of solidarity in the face of danger — "It means this storm will pass and we'll shine through." At that, everyone accepted at least a little rainbow for the fight. The paint went on pink, then dried to a fairly solid rainbow, if a bit pale in the yellow. Bedecked in inspirational rainbows, everyone ran to their places. Veora rushed to each of the doors out of the ballroom, arcane locking them before returning upstairs. Relic, Spark, and Transom dashed to their hiding space just in time for Zer to wreath them in nondetection before blinked back to his alcove. Milli quietly ran through the steps of her newest spells in her mind, while Medya nervously tuned her spike fiddle. Bell took place on the stairs, wand and hammer at the ready. And the d'Cannith family strode out onto the balcony to greet d'Orien Palor, back from what must have been an exhausting trip to visit Father. A flash of light just preceded the bang of fire blasting out the concealed door that led from the warehouse behind the building to under the balcony. Transom and Smith staggered backwards from the explosion as d'Orien Palor — or whatever fiend was wearing his skin — strode into the room. "Did you not think I'd notice what you'd done to my friends?" His words sizzled at the edges, something lurking underneath his voice, an edge of raw anger, a wound in the universe. His mask was slipping, badly. He'd already been exposed. Worse, he'd been delayed again. First the puppetry rig had been lost, then the fusion project had been halted, and now this interruption. "I should ruin you for this, Jorlanna!" Meledri Corus strode forward with hammer and lantern. "In the name of the Silver Flame, begone from here, fiend!" The paladin shook the Lantern of Jaila Valeau, and the light within it burned brightly against the skin of d'Orien Palor. The fiend screeched, hollow echoes filling gaps in sound. The fiend strode towards her, hand raised to strike but knocked aside when one of Ander's traps launched a spear from above into the fiend's shoulder. Wounded, angered, Palor raked inhuman fingers hissing with malice across Meledri's face, burning cold where he touched. Even as she cried out in pain, she hardened her gaze and pressed the light of truth and justice at him, piercing his veil of denial. At the cries, Relic and Spark rushed towards the fiend, Transom not far behind with the thought, Of course he'd come in the back way; it let him steal the moment. With a burst of speed, Relic closed the distance, sword and fist flying. Spark flanked the fiend, and when the mace came down, silver sparks flew and light burst beneath the skin of d'Orien Palor, and Palor's throat screamed emptiness between sound. Millimax cast a repercussive veil around Palor while Bell blasted the fiend with a wand, radiant light flaring. Medya sang and opened a dimension door beneath him, sending him stumbling down into the floor through the top and smashing into the ground, which Zer then redoubled with a flick of his mind. The fiend, pummeled from all sides and weak, threw aside d'Orien Palor and grew, exposed, transformed back into Kkressd raksasha, princeling of Ashtakala, servant of the Bleak Council, leader of the Lords of Dust, all sleek fur and beautiful paws and lashing tail and full of fire and emptiness. With a roar, Kkressd let loose a wave of emptiness, clawing at the very souls of those around him, then letting out a shriek as Milli's repercussive veil returned the harm he'd sworn as radiant riposte. Spark rolled away from the wave, while Relic shuddered as it passed. Meledri bore the worst of it, standing directly in his path, but still she didn't fall. She grit her teeth and pushed back against the pain. She would not fall. With a trio of crashes, three demons smashed through the stained-glass skylight. They landed and snarled, summoned by their master Kkressd. The first turned to Relic and lashed out, but the monk danced back, away from burning cold claws. The second leapt to the balcony and clawed at Veora, whose attention was wholly on Jorlanna. The elder d'Cannith had been reduced to a sobbing wreck, the geas wracking her, driving her to thrash and cry and beg to be let free to protect her love. She wept as she fought against herself, struggling to cast aside the eldritch compact she now regretted. The third fiend moved behind Meledri and raked its claws down her back, the cold cutting through even as the brightly polished plate rejected the fiend's grievous talons. Still, she didn't fall. Even as she sank to one knee, the lantern lost and skittering across the polished floor, she would not fall. She could not fall. With a lurch, Veora dragged Jorlanna back from the edge, hauling her to safety as Bell sprinted up the stairs. The dragon-forged raised her hammer high, infusing it with righteous fury as she brought it around in an arc to knock the fiend back down from the ledge. She aimed her wand at Palor, but without the light of the lantern, he had only to refuse the spell for her makeshift wand to fail. Ploughshare called out to the fiend, daring it to face him, then took a banner of St. Meighan from his pack and, with a rallying cry, raised his standard high. Milli called out to Medya to grab the lantern, and the gryphon launched herself down from the balcony to glide to the lantern and lift it in one talon. The fiend who'd knocked it free grabbed for it, but Medya's grasp was stronger and she tore the lantern free of the fiend's grasp. Ander launched volley after volley, one arrow piercing the eye of one of the lesser fiends and dropping it on the spot. Transom let fly with magic missiles at the final lesser fiend, while Relic and Spark lashed out with sun and sword, and the foul creature joined its kin in never-had-been, leaving behind only inky stains that stank of nothing. Smith rushed to Meledri's side and helped her rise, soothing her pain and lending her the fires of the forge. She rose, and Medya tossed her the lantern, which she turned back on Palor. She would honor her wife and do her proud. She would not fall. Kkressd roared, angry and petulant. It launched itself into the air, scrabbling over the balcony, crawling up to Jorlanna, inflicting one last torment. "Suffer," it spake, and Jorlanna suffered. Arrows flew, spells crackled. The fiend howled. Spark raced up one of the columns supporting the balcony, swung her new mace down hard with intent to bring truth and light to Kkressed's mind — and she smashed the silver sun upon the crown of the wretched raksasha. The world paused, all holding still as nothing boomed and flashed out soundlessly sending everyone stumbling as Kkressed unbecame. Morran flung open a window. Ander climbed up on a ladder to dismantle the other traps, while Zer began patching the stained glass ceiling. Milli shook off the lingering dread and checked on Medya, but the bard had already used one of Milli's renew tokens to take care of herself. Meledri rose and blew out the Lantern of Jaila Veleau, then told everyone to light candles. She wiped at her eyes and let everyone see the smile she wore. She had stood her ground, made her wife proud. She had not fallen. She thanked Bell for giving her a chance to help, and Bell thanked her for helping. A shriek rang out atop the balcony. d'Cannith Jorlanna was gone. In her place was a twenty-two-year old girl, blonde, eyes wide and trembling, long hair pulled in front of her face, shrieking and confused as she scrambled to her feet and rushed one of the doors, calling out over and over, "Cailen! Cailen! Something bad happened— I'm scared— Where are you? Elsabet? Elsabet!" Frantic pounding rattled the arcane locked door. On the other side, a deeper voice responded, "Jorlanna? Jorlanna!" The moment Veora released the spell holding it closed, he door slammed open to reveal Cailen and Elsabet. Jorlanna rushed into the arms of her fiancé, weeping and clutching for her daughter Elsabet and sobbing about terrible dreams and what's going on and who are all these people? Then her eyes met the mid-thirties face of her cousin Morran, but he was six the last time she saw him and yet somehow she just knew it was him. She held out a hand to him, and he stepped forward to hug her. He said nothing. There was nothing in the moment to say. Veora stepped forward and loudly declared, "Time to smoke up." The relief was palpable. Spark and Bell shared motes of dust, and Veora introduced Millimax and Medya to dreamlily. The flower petals burned cleanly, and their smoke was deep and rich and full of sparkles. It wasn't glitterreed, but also wasn't unlike glitterreed, and the three enjoyed its flavor. Veora explained that she was the lead magewright, but with Jorlanna now unable to act as the head of Cannith West, this left her in charge. She didn't figure anybody else wanted the job, or ought to have it if they did. "House Cannith is rich, but with no income to our name. The house made all its money in the last thirty years selling lives that weren't ours to sell. That money ought to be theirs." Bell heartily agreed, and suggested starting by tearing down the portraits of the past d'Canniths. Veora held up a hand and asked that she leave the old history, back before the Last War, when Cannith made its terrible pact with Cyre. Bell agreed, but then rose and began to tear down the rest. "Let those who study this place once we're gone wonder why a hundred years of Cannith history were deliberately destroyed." She looked at Jorlanna, unsure how to feel about what had happened. "Maybe she gets another chance not to hurt people again, but she hurt a lot of people before, and that's just sad." Veora sighed and nodded wearily. "You're right, it is, and my hands aren't clean; I didn't quit. I just refused to participate. I kept thinking she'd come to her senses, realize she was over a line. I never thought to check for a geas." She watched Bell as the alchemist dismantled the old art. "Give me some time to think about what to do, and how. I've just had a lot set before me." Morran approached and raised his hand. "I'll help. I need a place to stay, if you'll have me." Veora nodded, and he looked to Milli and the others. "I'm going to need a few months, I think, to help Veora dig out of things before I try to talk with Zorlan. Will that work for you, if we hold off on going to Korth for a few months?" Medya piped up immediately, "That sounds ideal; we have some situations to manage back in Sharn. Thankfully, none of it should be much trouble at all!"
Griffinsday, 19 Sunfall, 998 Y.K. Spark and Relic studied the floorplans of the manor. They knew Palor would come into the ballroom through the front door; he loved making Jorlanna greet him as he came and went, and he loved making a scene of his entrance. Jorlanna had been with him for years; she'd learned how to keep him happy. Their best hope, they decided, was to try to keep d'Orien Palor constrained to the main ballroom. They asked Veora to arcane lock the doors leaving the ballroom before the battle, making sure there was only the one way in or out of the main room. Meledri insisted on being on the floor to face the fiend, and Ploughshare knew how to protect themself and those around them. Smith, the priest, they could ask to stand nearby in case one of them should fall. Milli and Medya, Zer and Bell were all skilled at ranged casting, and Ander was an excellent marksman as well as a fencer. That left the two of them and Transom to wait in one of the front meeting rooms until Palor had entered, closing off his only easy path to escape, or so they hoped. Morran told Jorlanna he expected her to be in the room, to bear witness to what her actions required. Her one mistake so many years ago had been compounding for decades, and now the bill had come due. With heavy heart, the elder d'Cannith agreed. She said she owed it to those she'd let come to harm to face her tormentor. At that, both Morran and Veora put their hands on her shoulders and said she wouldn't face him alone. And so, battle plans drawn, the party withdrew to make final preparations for the day ahead. Palor was due home by lunchtime. Breakfast would need to be light.
Wolfsday, 20 Sunfall, 998 Y.K. The sending came at three bells past sunrise: Palor's railcar had arrived from Passage, and he was in a carriage on his way home. Quickly, everyone gathered in the ballroom, and Medya pulled a can of paint and a brush out of Milli's saddlebags, while the unicorn asked who wanted rainbows. At everyone's incredulous look, she explained that they were a statement of solidarity in the face of danger — "It means this storm will pass and we'll shine through." At that, everyone accepted at least a little rainbow for the fight. The paint went on pink, then dried to a fairly solid rainbow, if a bit pale in the yellow. Bedecked in inspirational rainbows, everyone ran to their places. Veora rushed to each of the doors out of the ballroom, arcane locking them before returning upstairs. Relic, Spark, and Transom dashed to their hiding space just in time for Zer to wreath them in nondetection before blinked back to his alcove. Milli quietly ran through the steps of her newest spells in her mind, while Medya nervously tuned her spike fiddle. Bell took place on the stairs, wand and hammer at the ready. And the d'Cannith family strode out onto the balcony to greet d'Orien Palor, back from what must have been an exhausting trip to visit Father. A flash of light just preceded the bang of fire blasting out the concealed door that led from the warehouse behind the building to under the balcony. Transom and Smith staggered backwards from the explosion as d'Orien Palor — or whatever fiend was wearing his skin — strode into the room. "Did you not think I'd notice what you'd done to my friends?" His words sizzled at the edges, something lurking underneath his voice, an edge of raw anger, a wound in the universe. His mask was slipping, badly. He'd already been exposed. Worse, he'd been delayed again. First the puppetry rig had been lost, then the fusion project had been halted, and now this interruption. "I should ruin you for this, Jorlanna!" Meledri Corus strode forward with hammer and lantern. "In the name of the Silver Flame, begone from here, fiend!" The paladin shook the Lantern of Jaila Valeau, and the light within it burned brightly against the skin of d'Orien Palor. The fiend screeched, hollow echoes filling gaps in sound. The fiend strode towards her, hand raised to strike but knocked aside when one of Ander's traps launched a spear from above into the fiend's shoulder. Wounded, angered, Palor raked inhuman fingers hissing with malice across Meledri's face, burning cold where he touched. Even as she cried out in pain, she hardened her gaze and pressed the light of truth and justice at him, piercing his veil of denial. At the cries, Relic and Spark rushed towards the fiend, Transom not far behind with the thought, Of course he'd come in the back way; it let him steal the moment. With a burst of speed, Relic closed the distance, sword and fist flying. Spark flanked the fiend, and when the mace came down, silver sparks flew and light burst beneath the skin of d'Orien Palor, and Palor's throat screamed emptiness between sound. Millimax cast a repercussive veil around Palor while Bell blasted the fiend with a wand, radiant light flaring. Medya sang and opened a dimension door beneath him, sending him stumbling down into the floor through the top and smashing into the ground, which Zer then redoubled with a flick of his mind. The fiend, pummeled from all sides and weak, threw aside d'Orien Palor and grew, exposed, transformed back into Kkressd raksasha, princeling of Ashtakala, servant of the Bleak Council, leader of the Lords of Dust, all sleek fur and beautiful paws and lashing tail and full of fire and emptiness. With a roar, Kkressd let loose a wave of emptiness, clawing at the very souls of those around him, then letting out a shriek as Milli's repercussive veil returned the harm he'd sworn as radiant riposte. Spark rolled away from the wave, while Relic shuddered as it passed. Meledri bore the worst of it, standing directly in his path, but still she didn't fall. She grit her teeth and pushed back against the pain. She would not fall. With a trio of crashes, three demons smashed through the stained-glass skylight. They landed and snarled, summoned by their master Kkressd. The first turned to Relic and lashed out, but the monk danced back, away from burning cold claws. The second leapt to the balcony and clawed at Veora, whose attention was wholly on Jorlanna. The elder d'Cannith had been reduced to a sobbing wreck, the geas wracking her, driving her to thrash and cry and beg to be let free to protect her love. She wept as she fought against herself, struggling to cast aside the eldritch compact she now regretted. The third fiend moved behind Meledri and raked its claws down her back, the cold cutting through even as the brightly polished plate rejected the fiend's grievous talons. Still, she didn't fall. Even as she sank to one knee, the lantern lost and skittering across the polished floor, she would not fall. She could not fall. With a lurch, Veora dragged Jorlanna back from the edge, hauling her to safety as Bell sprinted up the stairs. The dragon-forged raised her hammer high, infusing it with righteous fury as she brought it around in an arc to knock the fiend back down from the ledge. She aimed her wand at Palor, but without the light of the lantern, he had only to refuse the spell for her makeshift wand to fail. Ploughshare called out to the fiend, daring it to face him, then took a banner of St. Meighan from his pack and, with a rallying cry, raised his standard high. Milli called out to Medya to grab the lantern, and the gryphon launched herself down from the balcony to glide to the lantern and lift it in one talon. The fiend who'd knocked it free grabbed for it, but Medya's grasp was stronger and she tore the lantern free of the fiend's grasp. Ander launched volley after volley, one arrow piercing the eye of one of the lesser fiends and dropping it on the spot. Transom let fly with magic missiles at the final lesser fiend, while Relic and Spark lashed out with sun and sword, and the foul creature joined its kin in never-had-been, leaving behind only inky stains that stank of nothing. Smith rushed to Meledri's side and helped her rise, soothing her pain and lending her the fires of the forge. She rose, and Medya tossed her the lantern, which she turned back on Palor. She would honor her wife and do her proud. She would not fall. Kkressd roared, angry and petulant. It launched itself into the air, scrabbling over the balcony, crawling up to Jorlanna, inflicting one last torment. "Suffer," it spake, and Jorlanna suffered. Arrows flew, spells crackled. The fiend howled. Spark raced up one of the columns supporting the balcony, swung her new mace down hard with intent to bring truth and light to Kkressed's mind — and she smashed the silver sun upon the crown of the wretched raksasha. The world paused, all holding still as nothing boomed and flashed out soundlessly sending everyone stumbling as Kkressed unbecame. Morran flung open a window. Ander climbed up on a ladder to dismantle the other traps, while Zer began patching the stained glass ceiling. Milli shook off the lingering dread and checked on Medya, but the bard had already used one of Milli's renew tokens to take care of herself. Meledri rose and blew out the Lantern of Jaila Veleau, then told everyone to light candles. She wiped at her eyes and let everyone see the smile she wore. She had stood her ground, made her wife proud. She had not fallen. She thanked Bell for giving her a chance to help, and Bell thanked her for helping. A shriek rang out atop the balcony. d'Cannith Jorlanna was gone. In her place was a twenty-two-year old girl, blonde, eyes wide and trembling, long hair pulled in front of her face, shrieking and confused as she scrambled to her feet and rushed one of the doors, calling out over and over, "Cailen! Cailen! Something bad happened— I'm scared— Where are you? Elsabet? Elsabet!" Frantic pounding rattled the arcane locked door. On the other side, a deeper voice responded, "Jorlanna? Jorlanna!" The moment Veora released the spell holding it closed, he door slammed open to reveal Cailen and Elsabet. Jorlanna rushed into the arms of her fiancé, weeping and clutching for her daughter Elsabet and sobbing about terrible dreams and what's going on and who are all these people? Then her eyes met the mid-thirties face of her cousin Morran, but he was six the last time she saw him and yet somehow she just knew it was him. She held out a hand to him, and he stepped forward to hug her. He said nothing. There was nothing in the moment to say. Veora stepped forward and loudly declared, "Time to smoke up." The relief was palpable. Spark and Bell shared motes of dust, and Veora introduced Millimax and Medya to dreamlily. The flower petals burned cleanly, and their smoke was deep and rich and full of sparkles. It wasn't glitterreed, but also wasn't unlike glitterreed, and the three enjoyed its flavor. Veora explained that she was the lead magewright, but with Jorlanna now unable to act as the head of Cannith West, this left her in charge. She didn't figure anybody else wanted the job, or ought to have it if they did. "House Cannith is rich, but with no income to our name. The house made all its money in the last thirty years selling lives that weren't ours to sell. That money ought to be theirs." Bell heartily agreed, and suggested starting by tearing down the portraits of the past d'Canniths. Veora held up a hand and asked that she leave the old history, back before the Last War, when Cannith made its terrible pact with Cyre. Bell agreed, but then rose and began to tear down the rest. "Let those who study this place once we're gone wonder why a hundred years of Cannith history were deliberately destroyed." She looked at Jorlanna, unsure how to feel about what had happened. "Maybe she gets another chance not to hurt people again, but she hurt a lot of people before, and that's just sad." Veora sighed and nodded wearily. "You're right, it is, and my hands aren't clean; I didn't quit. I just refused to participate. I kept thinking she'd come to her senses, realize she was over a line. I never thought to check for a geas." She watched Bell as the alchemist dismantled the old art. "Give me some time to think about what to do, and how. I've just had a lot set before me." Morran approached and raised his hand. "I'll help. I need a place to stay, if you'll have me." Veora nodded, and he looked to Milli and the others. "I'm going to need a few months, I think, to help Veora dig out of things before I try to talk with Zorlan. Will that work for you, if we hold off on going to Korth for a few months?" Medya piped up immediately, "That sounds ideal; we have some situations to manage back in Sharn. Thankfully, none of it should be much trouble at all!"
Report Date
09 Apr 2020
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