21-06-2025: Threads of the unseen, Secrets, and Sour Mats

Leaving the arena behind, Mind took a moment to speak with Durgle before the gnome returned to the Shimmerforge District. Mind noted how the Warforged seemed especially vulnerable to illusion magic—Hypnotic Pattern had been particularly effective—and wondered if he could take a closer look at their construction to help improve their resistances. But Durgle shook his head. He wasn't the right person to ask. If Mind was serious, he should speak to Lord Illion Quoronriel himself—apparently, he was heavily involved in the Warforged program. The group exchanged glances. Meliana might be the better route to approach him. In high spirits after their hard-won victory, they decided not to return to the Celebren Mansion for dinner. Instead, they chose to eat out and celebrate properly. Mind, in particular, had an oddly specific craving for spicy squid—possibly the lingering influence of Zenatosh, their many-tentacled adversary. The rest agreed, curious, and it didn’t take long to find a restaurant willing to serve it.   The building they chose was unimpressive—shabby and dimly lit, far from inviting—but the menu spoke to them. Inside, it became clear that the establishment was run by a Dragonborn, which explained its neglected appearance; Dragonborn were still regarded as a lesser race by many in Illumé. Only a few working-class patrons filled the space.   Mind and Jaina stepped up to the counter, where only the top of a Gnome waiter’s head was visible. Orders were placed: spicy squid for Mind, Jaina, Leo, and Aerith; a meat platter for Gotrick; and an electric eel for Mae. Meanwhile, the rest of the group claimed a rickety round table in the corner. The surface wobbled annoyingly with every movement. With an eye roll, Aerith fished out a cloth from her disguise kit and quickly stabilized it.   The food arrived, and the reactions were immediate. Mind delighted in the spice. Aerith hiccuped uncontrollably. Jaina and Leo broke into a sweat, struggling through the heat. Gotrick ate silently, satisfied, while Mae used small shocks to make her eel twitch unnervingly. Jaina, eyes watery from the spice, became convinced it was still alive.   As they ate, Aerith wrote a letter to their friends back at home; Alban Farrow, Drajag and Grim. Just for a status update. Barrick, saluting her as she put the letter in his little letter tube, flew off through a broken window. Jaina shared an update from Ieghi. She had lost Hagmer’s scent, and her mother had flown off to an unknown location. Ieghi was returning to Luminaris for now. Jaina had already responded via Sending Stone, assuring her they’d resume the search once their business in Illumé was finished.   The news sat heavily over the group. The fact that Hagmer and Ieghi's mother had split up likely meant Hagmer was accelerating his hunt for the remaining Shards of Anar. Refocused, they discussed their next steps: Leo and Mae would seek out Wallace, the importer tied to the mysterious spider-emblazoned leather scrap. Mind planned to speak with Meliana in hopes of gaining access to the Dawn Ward, with Gotrick accompanying him. Meanwhile, Aerith revealed that she'd overheard some nobles at the arena speaking about how the outcome of the fight had perfectly matched a tarot card reading one of them had received.   The idea lingered with her. Tarot could be a valuable tool—perhaps even a way to glean insights from powerful individuals. She resolved to study it seriously. Jaina, intrigued, offered to help.   Returning to the Celebren Mansion, they were greeted by the sight—and smell—of a full feast prepared in their honor. Only then did they realize they'd forgotten to inform the chef, Ramsey, about their dinner plans. Mind muttered that he'd thought about telling him—but never did. That earned him sharp looks from Jaina and Aerith. Gotrick fed some of the untouched food to Serosh, but there was little else they could do.   Selene warned them: Gorden would be furious come morning. On the brighter side, she assured Aerith she would find her books on tarot reading.   The group gathered once more in the sitting room, where Aegaelion was—as always—seated near the fireplace. They explained their plans involving Meliana, but Gaele advised caution. For one of his other assignments, there would come a moment where the group might be able to enter the Dawn Ward forcefully. Aerith raised a brow, guessing it would involve some kind of large-scale distraction—and she was right. Gaele promised to let them know when the time was right. In the meantime, he suggested they extract more details from Durgle—such as which districts he worked in, and with whom.   Eventually, the three arena champions—Mind, Gotrick, and Leo—retired for the night, worn out and full of food. The others soon followed. Aerith lingered just a little longer, reading by candlelight in her new tarot book before sleep claimed her as well.   The following morning, the breakfast table was set—but instead of the usual lavish spread, the plates were filled with rock-hard bread. All except Gaele’s. His plate was overflowing with delicious food. A silent, passive-aggressive message from the mansion’s cook, no doubt. Just then, Jaina received a message from Ieghi. The black dragonling had overheard something: agents were being summoned to Elarion, Faelrien, and Thalanwë. She and Aerith exchanged a knowing look. Those were the locations of the final Shards of Anar. (Pieter: wat heeft Jaina teruggestuurd?)   With plans in motion, the group wished each other luck and split off for the day. A fine rain misted the cobblestones, and the streets were filled with cloaked figures and umbrellas swaying in the wind.   Jaina, hood up, and Aerith—hidden behind one of her many disguises—made their way toward the Velvet Promenade. Their goal: tarot cards. They searched the market stalls with little success and eventually made their way to Script and Sigil, where they knew their odds were better. As expected, Aerith was offered two sets—one magical, one mundane. The magical deck was too expensive, so she opted for the more affordable choice: a standard set for just eight gold pieces.   Meanwhile, Leo and Mae entered Starlight Haven with their newly acquired passes. Wallace’s company was easy to find, tucked near the harbor, with only one ship beside it. Crates and barrels were being loaded onboard, and the two debated sneaking a closer look. Deciding to wait for Jaina and Aerith before taking any risks, they turned their attention elsewhere and began searching the harbor for any trace of the spider sigil. Their search was meticulous, but fruitless. Nothing in the area bore even a hint of the mysterious symbol.   That was when Mae, still holding the piece of leather, noticed something subtle—an odd scent. Ash… and something floral. She passed it to Leo, who agreed. It smelled burned and sweet at the same time. Dropping the Wallace angle for now, they headed toward the Velvet Promenade in search of a florist, hoping the others would meet them there.   Elsewhere, Gotrick and Mind entered Durgle’s workshop. The space was as chaotic as ever, humming with activity. A Gnome greeted them and explained that Gotrick’s weapon wasn’t quite ready yet. Mind explained that they wanted to talk—mainly about Warforged. During the conversation, the Gnome let something slip: Durgle was working with someone named Vanessa, a scholar from the Aezaezias Academy. Realizing he’d said too much, the Gnome abruptly excused himself, saying Durgle was in his room.   Durgle’s room was a controlled mess of blueprints, metal scraps, arcane notes, and half-complete experiments. He glanced up as they entered and confirmed that he’d just started work on Gotrick’s weapon. Once again, Mind explained their interest in the Warforged and pressed Durgle with questions. Durgle admitted, reluctantly, that the prototype they fought in the arena hadn’t been his idea. He dodged several questions and answered some, clearly bound by magical limitations on what he could say.   Then Mind casually mentioned Vanessa. Durgle’s reaction said it all. He was surprised the name had come up and confirmed it: Vanessa Aeryndor, master of enchantments. She handled the theory and he applied it. The gemwork fascinated him—the cores were boring.   Gotrick asked whether this was the first time anyone had fought experimental Warforged. Durgle confirmed it wasn’t. As for his own work locations, he admitted to frequenting the Academy. But when Gotrick asked whether he also worked in the Dawn Ward, Durgle faltered—then lied. Gotrick caught it immediately.   Durgle wondered why they hadn’t approached Lord Illion Quoronriel instead of him. Gotrick, joking about their rather informal “non-disclosure agreements,” explained the conflict with Illian, the Lord's son. Durgle made his opinion known—he didn’t like Illian either. When the topic shifted to Mae’s sister, Fae, Mind and Gotrick asked if Illian could have tampered with her memories. Durgle looked unsure and expressed doubt that Illian would go that far. (Pieter: Is dat zo?)   Before they left, Durgle suggested that Gotrick start thinking of a name for his new warhammer, because it deserves one. As they left the Shimmerforge District and walked back toward the Celebren mansion, the two began tossing around ideas, some serious, some so funny they laughed out loud.   Meanwhile, Leo, Mae, Jaina, and Aerith searched the market for a florist. Eventually, they stumbled upon a stall run by an elderly woman named Beth. When they described the strange floral scent on the leather scrap, she nodded slowly, recognizing it as Mourning Wistereth—an uncommon flower tied to an old tradition in Illumé. It was once placed near graves to mourn loved ones, but the custom had faded with time. Jaina asked if the flower could still be found. Beth, after a moment’s thought, directed them to an unassuming alleyway in Illumé’s Sanctuary district. There, she said, stood a forgotten statue surrounded by a pond—one of the few places where the Mourning Wistereth might still grow.   Curious, Mae showed her the spider-sigil scrap. Beth squinted, pulled out a thick pair of glasses, and examined it. Whether the glasses helped was questionable, her eyes seemed permanently closed from the countless folds of age. She didn’t recognize the symbol. To thank her, Leo bought a bouquet of flowers—blue, yellow, and lilac blooms that reminded the others of Meliana Quoronriel. The girls were absolutely smitten by the gesture.   The rain had intensified by the time they reached Illumé’s Sanctuary. Though the district was known for its beauty, they had no time to admire it, heading straight for the spot Beth had described. And sure enough—they found it.   The place was easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it: overgrown, forgotten, and heavy with silence. A weathered statue of a hooded woman stood at its center, surrounded by a stagnant, moss-choked pond. She had no face, just cupped hands raised solemnly to where her mouth might have been. Behind her stood a small mausoleum-like structure with no door, only two grated vents set into its sides.   Carved into the statue’s pedestal were the words: "The Lattice listens through me. Ask not of gods nor glory, only of threads unseen."   Looking to explain the ash-like smell, Leo searched the area but found no signs of fire, only thick overgrowth. Aerith and Jaina immediately sensed that the grates were meant to be spoken through, but the question remained: what should be said?   While they debated, Leo and Mae examined the statue. Leo poured some of the gifted wine into the cupped hands. The liquid vanished into the stone, absorbed, but nothing else happened. Each of them sipped the wine in turn. Mae even tasted the pond water. Still, nothing.   Leo created ash with a spell and gently placed it on the pedestal together with the spider sigil. Aerith followed, laying a single Mourning Wistereth next to it. Then they spoke into the grate again. That was when Leo heard it—a faint whisper.   (Pieter, wat was de quote precies?)   They gathered around. The tension was rising.   They had one shot. One question. Aerith’s instinct was that "threads unseen" referred to something subterranean—hidden tunnels, perhaps. She wanted to ask how to find them. Leo disagreed; he argued they shouldn’t be vague and should simply ask where Zharrus was being held. Mae stood back, eyes on the mausoleum, turning the words over in her head, wondering if there was an anagram hidden in the phrase. Jaina leaned toward Aerith’s idea but was too nervous to make the wrong call.   In the end, they followed Leo’s lead. He stepped forward and spoke clearly through the grate: “We are looking for Zharrus who is in the process of being turned into a soul gem, where can we find him?”   The voice returned—this time everyone heard it. It sounded louder, sharper. "They have shunt me. I hoped you had asked a better question."   The statue shattered. Cracks tore through the stone before it exploded outward in a cascade of debris. The flower, the ash—and the leather scrap bearing the spider sigil—all vanished in a flash of flame and dust.   Stunned and soaked by the rain, the group stood in silence. There was no second chance.   Wordless, heavy with regret, they turned and made their way back through the downpour, heads bowed. A failed offering. A lost connection. And a question that would now never be answered.   Back at the Celebren mansion, and once everyone had freshened up, the group regrouped to exchange stories from the day. Aegaelion was notably absent from his usual place by the fireplace—he was clearly out working on one of his many missions in Illumé.   Mind and Mae decided to use their passes to visit the Academy, intending to find Vanessa Aeryndor. Gotrick, frustrated over what had happened with the statue in Illumé’s Sanctuary, chose to stay behind. He hoped Aegaelion’s insight might help move things forward once he returned. Meanwhile, Aerith continued her study of tarot cards, with Jaina and Kiwi assisting her in practice. Leo asked Selene if she could locate any books related to the statue and spent his time diving into research.   At the Academy, now familiar with its grandeur and intricate beauty, Mind and Mae approached a student to ask where Vanessa might be found. They were pointed toward the Enchantment Spire. As they made their way there, Mae insisted they confront Vanessa directly, while Mind urged for a subtler approach. Their bickering carried them to the front desk, where a tired-looking student barely looked up from her book before gesturing lazily to Vanessa’s office—likely too stressed about exams to care.   Mind knocked. A quiet voice called out, asking who it was. He began explaining, cautiously, that they had fought the Warforged in the arena and were curious about their magical construction. Mae, unimpressed by the subtlety and rolling her eyes, cut straight to the point—stating they knew she had worked on the gem.   The door cracked open slightly. Vanessa, looking confused, peered out and asked how they knew that. Mae replied that it was a secret. That was all the prompting Vanessa needed—she ushered them in quickly, clearly not wanting further details discussed in the open corridor.   Her office was pristine—everything perfectly arranged. It immediately resonated with Mind. Mae, on the other hand, found it unsettling. No true master of enchantment, she thought, should be this clean.   Vanessa confirmed she had watched the arena match. Prompted by Mind’s questions, she launched into a long and detailed explanation of how she’d developed the gem’s enchantment. Mind listened closely, taking in what he could, though enchantment wasn’t his strongest field. Mae remained seated, idly studying the office instead.   The gem, Vanessa explained, was made from jade—costly, and powerful. When Mae asked if she had worked on the Warforged core, Vanessa immediately denied it. She knew nothing of its internal workings.   Trying to make an impression, Mind offered to assist with future research, casting illusionary sparks across the office in a display of tiny magical fireworks. (Pieter, hoe reageerde ze hier nou op?)   Mind then asked why this prototype had been created in the first place. Vanessa hesitated, then admitted—reluctantly—that it had been commissioned by Illian Quoronriel. Mae choked on her own breath, while Mind stared at Vanessa in disbelief. Mae explained that their relationship with Illian was… strained—he had, after all, kidnapped her sister.   Vanessa frowned at the revelation and advised them to acquire a Dispel Magic scroll. It could provide clarity. They thanked her for the tip, and Mind joked that she could always call on him if she needed help. From there, they made their way to the library, where they purchased the expensive scroll—Mind covering just under half the cost, and Mae paying the rest. She offered him a quiet thank-you for the gesture.   Back at the mansion, Leo had unfortunately found nothing useful about the statue. Aerith, meanwhile, was slowly getting the hang of her tarot deck, using Jaina and Kiwi as her test subjects. Later in the day, Aegaelion returned. His coat was soaked, and yet, despite the rain, his dark, pretty hair was still neatly slicked. He entered with a tired sigh and hung his jacket on the coat rack. Aerith, despite the frustration of her day, offered him a warm smile and asked if he’d had a busy one. He nodded and explained he’d spent it speaking with members of the Luminous Concord, which had left him completely drained.   The rest of the group gathered around. Gotrick wasted no time—he brought Aegaelion up to speed, recounting everything that had happened, including their failure at the Sanctuary statue and the potential lost lead on the Underground.   Gaele shook his head at the story. He suspected Aerith’s initial instinct had been right: the “threads of the unseen” may have indeed referred to the Underground. Aerith remained silent through the exchange, visibly restraining her frustration.   Mind and Mae shared their findings—Illian himself had commissioned the prototype Warforged. Gaele raised an eyebrow at that. House Quoronriel had long had an interest in the Warforged, but it was unclear why Illian would personally oversee such a creation. He suggested they begin speaking with the common folk of Illumé; they might know more than they realized.   During dinner—which was delightfully prepared, suggesting that Gorden had forgiven them—Barrick returned with a message from Alban, Drajag, and Grim. The pidgeon perched on Mind’s shoulder as he read the letter aloud, Gaele quietly listening in as well. Drajag had made significant progress repairing Tacton. His pinky now twitched at irregular intervals due to a few stubborn enchantments which Alban was struggling with. He had developed a coffee addiction but remained diligently at work. He also jokingly mentioned that while he didn’t know Durgle personally and he could really use his help. That last detail stuck with them. What if they could bring Alban Farrow to Illumé and arrange a meeting with Durgle? Perhaps together, they could make sense of the Warforged’s deeper mysteries. They called for Lorice and she was going to get a visum for him as fast as she could, in 5 days to be exact.   As soon as dinner had been finished, the group—save for a worn-out Aegaelion and Mind, who was busy preparing the Dispel Magic scroll—headed out once again. Their destination: the Golden Archway. There, they slipped into a random tavern, its warm lights and chatter offering some cover for gathering information. Inside, they split up.   Aerith and Jaina struck up a conversation with a couple of humans who worked at the harbor. The conversation began casually, with Jaina footing the bill for a round of drinks. Eventually, one of the men began recounting a bizarre story to another man. His nephew had reportedly witnessed a robbery in the Starlight Haven. During the incident, the thieves had thrown something at a Warforged—causing it to spew hellfire from its eyes and chest. The Warforged were desperately trying to control the rogue Warforged and the thieves had escaped.   The other man sitting next to him was skeptical. The nephew in question was a recovering addict, and he cast doubt on the story’s reliability. But the first man stood firm—he believed every word of it. Jaina, always quick to catch potential leads, gave Aerith a look. They casually made their way to sit closer to the two men. (Pieter: hadden ze nou nog meer gezegd hierna?)   At another table, Leo and Gotrick had joined a lively group of dwarves. Gotrick quickly fell into natural conversation with them, asking about their origins and work. The dwarves mentioned they were employed at a forge (Pieter: wat was het? Hoeft niet gedetailleerd), and the conversation soon shifted to Leo and Gotrick’s recent victory at the Arena. The dwarves, thoroughly impressed, raised their mugs in a toast. As the drinks flowed, they picked up bits of gossip—complaints that House Varynthiel was the laziest of all noble houses, and rumors of a stolen book that had left the family deeply upset.   Meanwhile, Mae had taken a seat at the bar, quietly observing the room. After a few minutes, a sudden idea struck her. She slipped away to the women’s bathroom, locking the door behind her to listen in, hoping a private space might yield secretive conversations. Unfortunately, all she heard was mundane girl gossip. Still, it had been worth a try.   Undeterred, she cast Invisibility and carefully slipped past the two women, then positioned herself near a quiet corner where two figures were speaking. Their conversation caught her interest—complaints about Illian Quoronriel. They couldn’t understand why he was engaged to someone he’d only met a few months ago. Who would want to marry him?   As the topic of House Quoronriel continued, they also mentioned that Lord and Lady Quoronriel were no longer speaking. The apparent reason? Lord Quoronriel had granted Lady Aenysiel a favor. With no remaining family to represent her at the Luminous Concord—a custom all noble houses must uphold—she had been permitted to choose two other individuals to take her place. Supposedly, this decision had enraged Lady Quoronriel.   Later, back at the Celebren mansion, the group regrouped with Mind to share everything they’d uncovered and to decide what their next move would be.     The next few days passed in a whirlwind. Mind and Gotrick decided to speak with Durgle once more—this time spilling some of their own secrets. They told him outright that they were working on a construct of their own and needed help with its enchantments. In exchange, they offered to fetch anything he might need from outside Illumé, knowing he was physically restricted from leaving it.   Durgle, justifyingly, wasn’t impressed. As a member of one of the wealthiest families in the world, he could acquire whatever he needed. Still, Mind and Gotrick circled back, explaining that their construct was special—some might even call it legendary. Durgle remained skeptical. His family owned dozens of heirlooms. But he did recognize that the two were trying to reveal something without truly being able to say it. He made them a deal: if they weren’t planning anything nefarious with the construct, he would help them.   When they asked how they could thank him, Durgle simply replied that he had a fondness for sour mats, a sugary Illumian sweet. They promised he would receive the freshest batch—made by none other than their own chef, Gorden Ramsey.   Elsewhere, Leo spent a day investigating the Aezaezias Academy, hoping to uncover any place where experiments like the ones Zharrus was enduring might occur. But nothing turned up. If something that dark existed within the Academy, it was likely hidden with powerful magic.   Jaina continued training with Kiwi, though his concentration was nonexistent. Aerith pressed on with her tarot studies and began to genuinely enjoy them. Mae, meanwhile, purchased scrap metal from the Shimmerforge District and tinkered with it at home. With the addition of the moonstone, she finally succeeded—creating a Homunculus in the shape of a small metallic bat, which she named Beth, after the kind florist they had met. Mind practiced illusion-based nerve magic on Gotrick, who proved to be very ticklish during these sessions.   Then, unexpectedly, Meliana Quoronriel visited. She had information.   Leo went to fetch Mae, dodging a startled Beth on the way. Mae came down quickly. Meliana explained that Illian and Fae had met in the Celestial Archive of the Academy. He had been looking for a specific book—one that Fae was already reading. She made a deal: he could have the book, but only if he asked her on a date. The date had gone so well that Illian became completely smitten and forgot about the book entirely. How long Fae had already been in the city remained a mystery—and a potential lead to investigate.   Meliana also noted that Illian had changed since meeting Fae. He had grown increasingly obsessed, doing anything for her and pushing others—including his own father—away. This sparked a new line of thought among the group. Had it been the other way around? Had Fae charmed him?   Meliana also revealed that Illian was planning to publicly humiliate Mae in response to the scene at House Varynthiel. Mae was completely unfazed. She’d expected nothing less. Apparently, Illian was also jealous of Aegaelion—not because of his looks, as Aerith suggested—but because of his charm and growing influence among the noble houses. (Pieter, hoe zat dit ook alweer?)   As thanks for the information, Leo offered Meliana the bouquet he'd bought days earlier. She was clearly touched. Leo played it modest, but the girls made sure to clarify that it had been specifically bought for her. She blushed slightly before thanking him again and waving them goodbye.   Later that day, Aegaelion returned—tired but still as composed as ever. The group gathered around, waiting for Cole to report in.   He did, eventually—utterly bored with the mission. Fae, he reported, clearly wore the pants in the relationship. She used charm—and more than occasionally her body—to sway Illian’s every decision. Mae asked if there was any sign of magic, but Cole hadn’t seen anything of the sort. She spent her days reading in their private quarters, appearing sweet and doting only to Illian, while being short-tempered and even rude to the staff.   None of it felt right to Mae.   Illian, it seemed, was preparing a special gift for Fae—and had visited a location in the Luminary Veil, suspiciously close to the entrance of the Dawn Ward. That raised red flags for the entire group.   Most unsettling of all: on the sixth day, Fae had begun keeping her curtains shut. As if she knew someone was watching. Cole, known for his ability to disappear into shadow, found this unnerving. No one ever noticed him. Until now.   He confirmed Meliana’s earlier message—Illian was indeed planning something public against Mae. Mae rolled her eyes at the reminder.   As storm clouds—political, magical, and personal—continued to gather above the city of Illumé, the group found themselves caught in ever-tighter threads of power and secrecy. Between whispers in alleyways, shattered statues, and gifts wrapped in illusion, one thing was clear: They were running out of time. And somewhere, behind closed curtains, Fae must have been planning something.