Immersive Ink

Armando and Helmut return to the broken chapel, descend the circular stair, and--with torches now lit--navigate the ancient passage of the Basal to the the Ring Room. It is cool and dark. The Ring is naught but an ominous shadow at the far end of the broad hall, casting a deep shadow that jars and jangles on the wall behind.

Then... a faint, audible buzz comes to their ears.

Armando and Helmut glance at each other questioningly; but the sound is already becoming more distinct.


vvvvvVVVVVVVVVVVWWHUMP!


There is momentary flash of light; our pair instinctively shield their eyes, but by then the flash is already extinguished. As they look up a pall of dust carried on wave of distinctly arid desert air rolls through the chamber, causing their cloaks to briefly flutter and torches to flicker before the dust begins to settle.


Two dark, humanoid figures now stand before the Ring.

Helmut has the great-sword of Seyal out of its sheath on his back before the dust settles. He waits...balancing fight against 'strategic withdrawl' in his mind.

Likewise, Armando has his silvered dagger at the ready. He peers through the gloom and attempts to identify the two interlocutors ... Perhaps he recognizes them as members of the party?

Wen emerges from the Ring looking about and blinking. "Seems right, who's that?" he says as he gets his bearings.

"Mirrors! How much time has passed on this side? We need more mirrors!" calls a disheveled-looking Highbough. "We had to leave the Men behind."

"Ahoy, elven companions! It is Armando and Helmut. Where are the others, exactly? I don't believe we've located any other mirrors but perhaps there are some extras to be found lying about."

Wen would be relived. "Armando! Excellent, have we been gone long? We were worried that time may be different in the place we went. Let go to the others see if can get more mirrors"

"We have not seen you for a day or so."

I think?

"Wen and I must rest immediately so we can memorize spells of detection and scrying," states Highbough. "Someone should go through the portal to relieve Olaf, Dieter, and whats-his-name. Bring extra mirrors, because the mirror gets destroyed in transit. I had to sacrifice my silver dagger to bring Wen and myself back! I am leaving Hiridhren the Wise Course in charge while I'm asleep. Where is that young green sprout of an Elf?"

"Master Dhren has accompanied Desmond, Ashtad and Dorgan to the ogre's den to discover the fate of Beringar and Valorn, who never returned. Dorgan has been fatally poisoned though Josiane's magic has slowed it — he has but a few days to live, unless we can locate or summon a cure. Josiane composes a letter to the Elves of Southwatch for assistance in this matter, to be posted by owl, naturally. Ulric meanwhile conducts psychological experiments on the pilgrims — to great effect, if their becalmed emotional state is any indication.

"I must ask before you retire, however — what, pray tell, lies beyond the Ring? Have you located The Gustave? And what of our companions left on the other side — are they beset by foes, or in immediate danger?"