(069) Pilgrims & Practicalities

[waysoftheearth]

There is no sign of any Elf; Highbough and Wen have been gone for days now, and Dhren has departed just this morning.

[waysoftheearth]

However, as Josiane is pondering this, the door is to the refectory is flung wide and Highbough, Wen, Helmut, and Armando return!

Tis a good missive docx. Is it to be sent as is, or translated?

[mushgnome]

"Josiane! Put that pen down and grab a mirror. Olaf and his friends need your help." Highbough is back, looking dusty, disheveled, and wild-eyed from what he has witnessed beyond the Ring.

[doctorx]

"Josiane! Put that pen down and grab a mirror. Olaf and his friends need your help." Highbough is back, looking dusty, disheveled, and wild-eyed from what he has witnessed beyond the Ring.

Josiane's head jerks up from her letter.

"Lord Olaf! Is he in danger? What has happened? And what is this talk of mirrors? Speak plainly!"

Already her mind is flashing though memories of her earlier scrubbing and cleaning, searching for any recollection of mirrors or any other reflective surfaces she may have encountered that would serve the purpose...

[doctorx]

Tis a good missive docx. Is it to be sent as is, or translated?

In an ideal world she'd like it translated into Elvish. Ooooh, look! There's an elf turned up smack in front of her!

[waysoftheearth]

Ulric, surrounded in a haze of pipe-smoke, looks up from his musty tomes to lock eyes with the new arrivals.

"Do tell," he commands...

[mgtremaine]

Wen wander in behind Highbough. "Pen and Paper, I approve what are we writing?"

[mushgnome]

Highbough grabs an exhausted-looking Wen by the nape of the neck and pulls him into the room. "We came back to tell you your friends need help. The three Men are stranded on the other side. It's my fault: I activated the Ring by accident! I thought activation would require an active command word or gesture, but discovered that merely looking at the Ring's reflection in a mirror is all it takes. Worse, the mirror was consumed in the journey, so we didn't have a way to get back. I sacrificed my beautiful silver dagger as a makeshift mirror to get the two of us back. Elves first, you understand."

The Grey Elf presses both palms to his lumbar and unkinks his back. "What we saw on the other side, you ask? Undoubtedly one of the great and terrible Alcazar fortresses! As Dorgan, Wen and I discovered on our Fairy Forest vision-quest, there is a vast network of these castles, linked by a wall as far as the eye can see. The landscape is barren of life and the atmosphere inhospitable to Man. And all around lie the fallen corpses from a long-ago battle. Our scouts saw two of the were-beasts picking through the ancient battlefield, as though scavenging for some useful weapon or armor. We could have easily taken them and tortured them for information, but we didn't want to risk being seen from the walls and raising the alarm."

There is a dramatic pause. "So what are we going to do about it?" Rising to his full height, the Elf glares down at the humans. "What is this I hear that you gave Dorgan, Dhren, and Desmond permission to wander off from the Abbey just when we need them most? The dwarf got stung by a bee so let's all gather around the magic owl and write love letters to the Elf-queen? Bah! I was going to take a nap, but since nobody else seems to care about the lost sheep, old Highbough must take up the shepherd's crook. Everybody gather round and listen to my plan. Wen, our original intention to get a good night's sleep and memorize spells of scrying and detection was the better plan, but now that hesitation means certain doom, I think we must wait to rest until we bring everybody back safely. Do you agree? Someone tell those pilgrim-people to drop what they're doing and gather mirrors or improvised reflective surfaces. What are you staring at? Do it now! Do you know what it is like on the other side? Time passes differently there; look what's happened to me!!!" The old Elf holds up his hands in disbelief as if noticing his parchment-thin skin and arthritic knuckles for the first time. "If we don't hurry, your friends will be old men in diapers, and Gustave a shriveled mummy in his prison cell."

[mgtremaine]

Wen would look at Highbough with a sadness in his face. "Yes you acted rashly, lets not make that mistake again. We need to restore our magicks before we are going anywhere. Armando is looking for mirrors as we speak. Let's get everything settled with those who are left. We will get the others back but lets do it with some care." With that Wen would see what Josiane is writing.

[doctorx]

BANG!! goes Josiane's chair onto its back as the Vagabond Knight surges to her feet, face pale, hands balled into trembling fists, the grey fire burning in her eyes enough to shrivel shadow at a thousand paces.

Nobody here has ever seen her this angry before. But somehow, she holds it in.

She turns to the pilgrims, her tone civil, if clearly strained.

"Good people, let it be as the elf asks; all mirrors or mirror-like surfaces collected and brought here with all the haste you may! Remember; stay in pairs! Let no-one wander this place alone. I pray you, be about your work swiftly in Thuul's name."

As the pilgrims start to scurry she turns her perilous gaze upon the Grey Elf, walking forward to stand toe-to-toe with him, her burning eyes locked unblinking into his.

"'The Dwarf', as you put it, is deadly poisoned and will not live to see more than four sunrises unless a cure for his condition is found. And given the number of times he has stood between you and harm, Highbough, Taurnorn, Nightcat or whatever other name you choose to hide your own folly behind, I will thank you in the Saint's name to speak of him with a good deal more civility."

She turns to Wen and her gaze softens.

"Friend Wen; this is an appeal to the Lady Gallaine asking for her help in curing Dorgan. Do you please translate it into the Elven tongue then attach it to the leg of my friend here?" She indicates the patiently-waiting owl; "He knows what to do. I pray you, tell Dorgan what I have written and to make for the Southwatch with all haste. The Saint willing, we will be in time. And tell him he is under no circumstances to follow us through the gate until the poison is purged from his veins."

A sudden thought returns to her.

"And your pack: I would examine your pack. Quickly, please."

Her gaze turns back to Highbough and begins to burn once more.

"So time turns differently in the plain beyond, yet the long-lived elves fly, leaving the mortal men trapped therein?"

She shakes her head, turning her back on the Old Elf in disbelief and more than a little disgust.

"For all your years you lack wisdom. Wen is right: Rest. Regain your magicks. Then perhaps you might atone for your misdeeds. Until then, speak to me no more."

To Wen again: "One mirror transports all, but all need mirrors to return. Is that the right of it?"

Superb in-character post mush! Hope you don't mind Josiane responding in kind!