Episode 73

Morning sunlight filters across the snow-dusted windows of The Wilted Lotus as Collective Action rouse from their hard-earned rest. The chill of Vorstoven is still in their bones, but civilisation beckons. Groban gathers the Magic, the circle flares, and with a shimmer of runes the party depart Kitaun, reappearing moments later in the heart of Kureta City.   Back in the capital, the group splits with purpose.   Groban strides toward the blacksmiths, eager to commission fresh Sygaldry. Meanwhile, Emeric and Althea’s shop sees heavy traffic from Collective Action — enchanted gear purchased, potions restocked, odds and ends procured. The University Magic shop sees no less business, its shelves a familiar comfort.   Lyra, however, has a very different appointment. She arranges an interview with the senior royal correspondent of the Kuretan Gazette. Quill in hand, the journalist eagerly absorbs every delicious detail: the “engagement” to Barnabus, her bold plunge into adventuring to carry on his legacy, the high drama and romance of the road. The reporter assures her the article will hit the stands tomorrow. Lyra leaves glowing — and conspicuously more bedecked — than when she arrived.   Elsewhere, Blair ventures to the Church of Pulcra, hoping to see whether returning their scythe has changed anything regarding the false avatar. The entity is nowhere to be found, yet the church hums with activity, priests performing their duties with renewed purpose. Blair learns something curious: clerical Magic in the city is functioning perfectly… but only for deities that are physically present in Kureta. A logistical miracle, or a bureaucratic nightmare, depending on who you ask.   As Blair turns to go, a hunched old woman steps into their path. Her eyes cloud like stormglass as she speaks a prophecy — cryptic, rhythmic, unsettling. Before Blair can question her, she is gone.   Before the party reunites, Lyra hears a whisper — soft, disembodied — inviting her to perform at the Water Dragon Tavern this very evening. The tone feels less like a suggestion and more like a scheduling request. She accepts.   When Collective Action regroup, it takes approximately five seconds for everyone to notice Lyra’s new diamond ring, and her stylish neckerchief. She offers explanations of varying believability. The party decides to let mystery, for now, remain mystery.   With errands done and curiosity renewed, the group teleport to the island of Archmage Zephyrus. They arrive just in time to see Inadi departing, proudly explaining that she has used the archmage’s forge to make her magical bread basket “even more magical.” It now makes toast. She beams. No one has the heart to question this.   Collective Action step into the forge next. The results are… mixed. Some enchantments sputter, others hum, and a few ignite with astonishing, unexpected brilliance.   With the crafting complete, they sit with Zephyrus and press him about Vorstoven, about the ritual, about the frozen ruin his younger self left behind. The archmage listens, quiet and withdrawn. He speaks with sincerity: remorse, regret, fear of his own power. He swears he will return to the shattered city to ensure that nothing — nothing — remains that could cause another catastrophe.   As recompense for all the party has done, he offers something unexpected: he will begin researching Aboleths — specifically, how one might capture such a creature. Destruction, he reminds them, is impossible. But containment… perhaps.   With their questions answered and their tasks completed, the party teleport back to Kureta City, just in time for Lyra’s performance at the Water Dragon Tavern. Her voice fills the room like warm lanternlight; patrons sway, laugh, and leave with lighter spirits than they arrived. The tavern glows with joy long after the final note fades.   Content and tired in the best way, Collective Action settle in for the night. Tomorrow they plan to hire a coach and make for Nistaun and the Monastery of Stone, where another promise waits to be fulfilled — and another chapter of their journey begins.