Evanton and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Zephyrus Evanton was not what one would describe as a happy person. If you were to ask those close to him (of whom there are few) to list his qualities, curmudgeonly would probably be close to the top. But today, he was especially unhappy. Today was the latest in a long line of difficult days that had begun about a month and a half ago. He took a deep breath and took stock of his surroundings. The Elemental Spirit Tree was a husk of its former self, its branches blackened and bare after sustaining multiple attacks from both Air and Fire elementals over the past few weeks. The atmosphere, far from contemplative and calming, was now almost unbearably dismal. Elsbeth had joked a few days ago that the Elemental Garden was starting to match the personality of its keeper. Evanton hadn’t laughed at that particular quip.   Remembering his apprentice, Evanton glanced over at the young water genasi. She had waded into the shallows of the Elemental Plane of Water and was currently floating in the waves. Her injuries, all things considered, weren’t overly serious. She’d heal well enough, especially in the waters of her ancestral plane. Still, Evanton couldn’t avoid a pang of guilt. He was supposed to keep this place safe from harm, he was supposed to be guiding her, teaching her the ways of their people, and preparing her to be the next guardian. Instead, they were spending every night fighting increasingly dangerous elementals. He was no closer to finding the cause of the incursions and had no clues regarding how to stop them. All they could do was fight off each wave of attack as they occurred.   At first it was only a few lesser elementals, and it wasn’t every night. He had originally chalked it up to a normal disruption of the Air and Fire Planes. It wasn’t that unusual, considering the Air and Fire Temples were now technically located in the abyss. He figured it would stop soon enough, but it didn’t. It began happening more and more frequently, and a more significant number of elementals with a wide range of power started coming through until it was a nightly occurrence. At one point, they had no choice but to close the shop. There was no way that he could fight wave after wave of corrupted elementals all night, and run a small business all day. Not that he was missing out on much business anyway, since the Watch had “requisitioned” all of his inventory. He still had it on his to-do list to file a complaint with the Merchant’s Guild and the Council.   Elsbeth had suggested asking for help, noting that the Wizard Council was already fully aware of the Garden, and they could possibly assist in discovering why the attacks were happening, or at the very least provide support during the attacks themselves. Evanton was quick to veto that proposition. “The Elemental Garden is the domain of the Genasi. It has been under the care of our people for thousands of years. We have never needed the help of outsiders. That tradition will not end with us!” On nights like tonight, however, Evanton was tempted to question his own wisdom. Unfortunately, his own stubborn pride prevented him from seeing things objectively. If he was a different, more humble, person, he may have acquiesced and asked for assistance.   He let out a long sigh and began the process of putting out all of the small fires that had been started during that evening’s battle. Elsbeth would probably be able to do it faster, but he decided to let her rest a bit longer. Finally, after he had cleaned up as much as he could, he called out to his apprentice. It was time to rest.   The two battle-worn genasi exited the Garden, with Evanton re-casting the many additional security enchantments he had woven over the past month behind them. As they entered the dark and empty interior of Evanton’s Enchantments, he noted the sounds of some commotion coming from outside. It seemed far enough away that he wasn’t immediately concerned. Likely another demon attack. He wasn’t surprised, what with the increasing number of such instances and the fact that the City Council had foolishly decided not to cancel this year's Hearthswarming celebrations. The city’s center likely looked like a buffet to any demons stalking the streets tonight. Slyren and her lot would handle it like they always did. He wasn’t too concerned. They were fairly capable. If they needed help, they would reach out to the Wizard’s Tower first, and then eventually to him. But he doubted that would be necessary. For now, he would sleep.   It was around 8 in the morning when Elsbeth disturbed his rest, knocking twice on his door. “Damnit girl, let me sleep. The shop is closed and you can tend the Garden on your own a bit. Some independence would do you good.” There was a moment of silence from behind the door, and then she spoke up, “Master, something has happened. I think you should come downstairs.” Evanton sat up, Elsbeth wasn’t generally so formal with him, preferring to call him Evanton, or when she was especially precocious, Old Man, much to his chagrin. She had told him that if he insisted on calling her “Girl” then he should receive the same treatment.   Getting out of bed and pulling on a heavy robe, he walked over to the door and opened it. He saw the young genasi standing outside his door, biting her lower lip, which was her way when she was anxious. “What is the matter? Are there more coming through in the Garden already?” Evanton asked. “No, it's not the Garden, it’s the city. They are saying there was an attack last night, and that the Council is dead.”   A silence hung in the air for a moment, before Evanton walked past Elsbeth and down the stairs to his office, with her following closely behind. He took a seat at his desk, and she sat in a cushioned chair in the corner. “Where did you hear this? He asked.   “There are guards going house to house, business to business telling people to stay in their homes, that they have issued a state of emergency. They are saying that” the words seemed to catch in his apprentice’s throat. “What are they saying?” Evanton prodded. “They are saying that the APS did it. That Commander Sylren and Mialee’s team did it, at the ball. Commander Lowshade has assumed control of the City and initiated a state of emergency.”   Evanton rested his hands on his chin and took a deep calming breath. A swirl of papers lifted off his desk as a gust of wind from deep in his lungs emerged. This certainly was not good. “I have a hard time believing that story,” Evanton replied. “Of course not!” His apprentice exclaimed, “Mialee would never.” They sat quietly for a moment, Evanton allowing the news to sink in, formulating what his next step should be, and then cast sending to reach out to Master Arcanist Pembroke. Perhaps the Tower would know more. “Alistar, have you heard this news about Sylren? What is the Tower’s position on this?” He released the spell into the air but felt it dissipate almost immediately. He was unable to reach him. Frowning, he repeated the effort, but with Master Lightfoot. Same result, which was immensely worrying.   He grabbed a shallow basin and a bottle of water from a shelf, poured the water, and let it sit until it was a perfectly still surface. Elsbeth looked at him inquisitively, but he held his hand out to silence any questions. Imagining the common room of the Tower, he concentrated on creating an image of that room as it was now. The water rippled, and colors swirled, before eventually settling back to a still, clear surface of the water. “They must have closed the Tower,” Evanton whispered in disbelief. “They closed the bloody Tower and did not think to notify me!!” He exclaimed, knocking the basin off the table and spilling the water onto the floor. Elsbeth jumped a bit at the sudden outburst.   “What do you mean they have closed the Tower?” Elsbeth asked quietly. “I mean that they have cut themselves off from the city, the Tower is now impenetrable. No communication can pass in or out!”   “Why would they do that?” Elsbeth replied. “It’s a failsafe, for if the city was ever in grave danger. For the Tower had to be protected so that it can perform its function, that we, along with the City Council could initiate the invasion protocol.” Elsbeth crossed her arms, “None of what you just said makes any sense to me. If they are closed off to communication, how would they know when it is safe to come out of this ‘lockdown?’”   Evanton sighed, “It's complicated to explain, essentially Master Arcanists should be able to commune with the Tower’s core to determine the situation outside the Tower, and then decide when it is safe to re-emerge.” He stroked his beard, only one of the Master Arcanists could call for a lockdown. If the Council was attacked, it could have been Master Misendris who called for it. He supposed it could have also been Sylren herself. He doubted she actually initiated the attack, but one thing he had learned over his long life was to never discount a possibility without firm reason. She would have had reason to call for a lockdown if she had perpetrated the attack, as it would remove the Tower as a threat to her, but, depending on the situation, she could have called for a lockdown due to whatever had happened.   “Elsbeth, could you brew us some tea, and maybe get some of the bread from the kitchen upstairs, I need to think.” Elsbeth got up, “Of course,” and hurried out of the room. The young woman looked worried, no doubt about her cousin if Mialee had been wrapped up in all of this.   He took out a small mirror from a drawer in his desk. “Iliyria Sylren” he intoned, activating the mirror’s magic. There was a shimmer, but instead a visage of the elven wizard, dark shadows swirled across the surface. He frowned, it appeared that wherever she was, she was being concealed. Pressing his hand against the mirror, he tried to feel the magic that was impeding his vision. An illusion. Hardly her specialty. He slammed the mirror against the desk in frustration, cracking it and breaking the connection with wherever it was the Iliyria was hiding. He retrieved the basin, refilled it, and attempted to skry, first on Iliyria, and then on Mialee. The same shadows blocked his attempts. As a last attempt, he focused on Isemay, and to his surprise got the same results. If she were dead, then the water should have remained clear and still. It appeared that she was in the same location as Iliyria and Mialee.   He was rapidly consuming magic, as skrying was no small spell. Clearly, communication via arcane means would not be a productive use of his energy. What should he do then? He sat, trying to think of a plan of action. He always had a plan, but now all he had were questions. Finally, he stood and went to join Elsbeth in the kitchen. For now, the best course of action would be to wait. For what he did not know. For a sign? For a message from his colleagues? He sighed, this, it seemed, would be a long, difficult day.   Evanton passed the morning and early afternoon with his apprentice, almost entirely in silence, both of them stewing in their thoughts and worries. He observed out the windows the high volume of Watch guards patrolling the streets. Streets that, besides the guards, were empty, bereft of the revelers that should be out carousing on Hearthswarming. Their silence was broken by a loud knock at the door to the shop. Evanton huffed and motioned for Elsbeth to get it. “Tell them to bug off, we are closed!” he spat. Elsbeth ran downstairs to get the door, and Evanton heard her answer. The voice that replied seemed gruff and assertive, but he could not make out the words. Twirling his finger, he sent a swift breeze to carry the sound back to him.   “I’m terribly sorry sir, but the shop is closed at the moment for repairs,” Elsbeth said. The masculine voice responded, “I’m here on Watch business, if you could please inform the proprietor, Mister Evanton, that I am here.” Elsbeth was quick to respond, “If you have come to requisition more enchanted items, then you may as well leave now. We have nothing more for you! Your lot took the last of it days ago, and Master Evanton has not been well enough to make more.” Evanton would normally appreciate his apprentice’s combative tone. After all, she learned it from him. But in this case, he worried that she might push too far, given her state of mind. “Miss, I am here to speak with Mister Evanton, it's a matter of dire importance, so if you would step aside.” “Master Evantion,” Elsbeth emphasized, “is resting, I will ask that you please leave and return another time.”   Evanton started to hurry down the stairs as his apprentice began to argue with the member of the Watch. He rounded the landing and saw her staring defiantly up at him, with the guard beginning to reach for his weapon. “Hello,” Evanton called, “here I am. What is it that I can do for you, sir?” The tension in the room eased, and Evanton began to take in their visitor. From his uniform, he appeared to be a higher-ranking officer. His suspicion proved correct as the man turned his attention from Elsbeth towards him. “I am Lieutenant Lance Khestil. You are the proprietor of this shop, the Master Arcanist Evanton?” Evanton nodded his head in agreement. “Sir, I have to ask you to please come with me to Watch Headquarters, we have some questions to ask you.” Elsbeth moved to stand between Evanton and the lieutenant, as Evanton thought for a moment.   “Am I being placed under arrest?” He asked. The Lieutenant shook his head, “no sir, we just have some questions to ask, this is not a formal arrest.” Evanton did not like the emphasis placed on the word formal. “In that case, I will have to politely decline. If this is about the happenings last night, then I have no knowledge of anything that occurred. I haven’t even left the shop in weeks.” The Lieutenant's jaw tightened, “I have to insist that you come, sir.” Evanton scoffed, “and I have to insist that you leave!”   “I have orders to bring you in for questioning. Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way old man,” the lieutenant’s tone shifted from professional to frustrated. Evanton could see Elsbeth going for her spell component pouch, and the Lieutenant reaching for the sword strapped to his waist. He sighed.   “In that case, I’ll oblige,” Evanton said, pushing his way past his apprentice. Elsbeth looked at him, shocked, and as he passed her he whispered “It’s not worth it girl.”   “I’m glad you see it my way,” the Lieutenant gloated, guiding Evanton to the door. As Evanton stepped outside the shop, he sent a silent message to his apprentice. “I’ll be back soon. They will have nothing on me, and maybe I can learn more about what happened. Besides, they couldn’t hold me even if they tried. I am the wind,” he winked at her. Elsbeth seemed to relax a bit with his reassurance.   The walk to the Watch’s headquarters through the deserted city streets was silent. When they arrived, he was ushered into a small interview room that only contained a table and two chairs. There he waited. His impatience began to grow as the minutes passed, but Evanton knew it was likely an attempt to rattle his nerves and focused on controlling his breath. Eventually, a middle-aged man opened the door and sat opposite him. Introducing himself as another Lieutenant, the man began peppering Evanton with repetitive questions.   Did he know the whereabouts of Iliyria Sylren? Had he received any communication from Iliyria Sylren? Did he have prior knowledge of any plans that Iliyria Sylren, or members of the APS, may have had regarding last night’s incident? Had he received any communication from other Master Arcanists of the tower? Why was the Tower’s door gone? How could they enter the Tower? The list went on, with Evanton answering no to all. He did explain that the Tower had gone into lockdown, likely due to the state of emergency, and that contact with the Tower was currently impossible.   This went on for what felt like hours, and Evanton felt his patience being worn thin when he was asked the same question three times within five minutes. Finally, the lieutenant stood, thanked him, and left the room. Evanton sat for a moment before walking to the door. It was locked. This was absolutely ridiculous. He considered blowing the door off its hinges but doubted that doing so would get him out of there faster. If anything, it would give them an excuse to actually arrest him. So, he went back to the chair and sent a quick message to Elsbeth to let her know not to worry. He also told her that there were scrolls of sending in his office, should she need to contact him. Then he waited for another half an hour.   Finally, the lieutenant returned. “Sir, I’d like to thank you for your help in this matter. You have been cleared of suspicion.” Evanton scoffed at the implication. “Well good! Now if you excuse me, I need to get back to my shop.” He began to make his way toward the door. “Actually, sir, Commander Lowshade was hoping to speak with you himself. You are the only Master Arcanist in the city that we can locate, and he would like to ask for your assistance with ensuring the city’s safety against threats of an arcane nature.” Evanton was about to tell the Lieutenant where the Commander could shove his request after having been dragged here and relentlessly hassled but bit back his words after considering it for a moment. This may be his opportunity to learn more about the situation. He sighed and then nodded. “I would be more than happy to help.”   The Commander, it appeared, had taken up residence in the Council Seat. Evanton thought that was a bit gauche, seeing that the Council had supposedly only been killed last night. Regardless, he was escorted by two lower ranking Guards across the plaza and to the Seat, and then finally to one of the more luxuriously appointed offices. Evanton was surprised. From what he heard from Misendris, and from Sylren, the Commander wasn’t the type to go for unnecessary accouterments. As he entered the office, Commander Lowshade gave him a warm welcome, thanking him for taking the time out of his busy day and indicating to a seat across from him. Evanton sat down, and he heard the door close behind him as the guards left the room. He was alone now with the most powerful person in the city.   “I am so grateful that you have agreed to meet with me,” the Commander began, “I was hoping for the assistance of the Master Arcanists of the Tower, but it seems that you are the only one available.” Evanton nodded in acknowledgment, “yes, contact with the Tower is quite impossible at the moment, unfortunately.” The two sat in awkward silence for a moment, the Lowshade looking at Evanton expectantly, and Evanton trying to read his expression. “Perhaps you could tell me specifically what type of assistance you are hoping for,” Evanton said evenly. Something was off, whether it was this room or the Commander himself he wasn’t sure, but he could feel the buzzing of magic in the air.   Commander Lowshade smiled widely at him as his eyes began to glow a sickening green. “Oh, I know exactly how you can help.” He stood, as his body contorted and began to expand with sickening cracks and crunches. His hands turned backward, growing claws, his jaw widening until his smile was full of razor-sharp teeth, and fur growing from every inch of visible skin. Evanton surged to his feet and cast hold person, hoping to buy himself time. As the swirling arcane runes left his fingertips, they brushed harmlessly against the beast before dissipating. There should have been a moment where the demon resisted the spell, but Evanton could feel that his magic hadn’t even begun to take hold. The beast let out a low chuckle, and Evanton tried a psychic attack spell. Again, his spell had no effect. “This is my favorite part,” the demon remarked, “the moment that they realize their petty little powers aren’t going to be enough to save them.” Evanton, realizing fighting wasn’t an option, cast gaseous form, becoming one with his element. As quick as the wind he rushed towards the door but found that it was impassable. Some kind of arcane barrier prevented him from escaping through the cracks.   Evanton reformed his physical self and turned to face the demon. For the first time in a long time, he was afraid.  
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  Elsebeth Liadon paced the length of the shop for what felt like the millionth time since Evanton had gone to answer the Watch’s questions. She had gotten one message from him earlier in the day that all was well, but after that there was nothing. The silence was suffocating. When she wasn’t worrying about Evanton, she switched to worrying about her cousin. The fact that she knew each of these people was powerful and capable of taking care of themselves didn’t allay her worry. As evening arrived, she added a new worry to her rotation - what if there was a breach before Evanton was back? Finally, she broke and hurried into Evanton’s office, digging through his desk to find the sending scrolls he had mentioned. She read from the scroll, activating the magic, and sent a message to Evanton asking whether he was alright and if he would be home soon. She waited with bated breath for a response. One minute, two, ten passed with nothing. As she stood there, contemplating her next steps, she felt a familiar surge of energy from the Garden. This was not good.  
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  Fun Fact: Sakris can transform between his disguises and true form seamlessly. He only does the drawn-out, grotesque transformation for effect. He is a bit of a drama queen.