Immersive Ink

"I think the plan was don't die, hang tight, we'll be back for you." Wen laughes, "of course Deiter is in charge so it's possible they have attacked the fortress by now, but I hope not. I assume we will find them right where we left them."

You mean we weren't supposed to go rescue Gustave while you elves were gone?Are you sure you made that clear?

"Young Wen is more or less correct," volunteers Highbough (even though nobody asked him). "Additionally, we promised to return with our full array of scrying devices and spells. My thinking was that, if we repeat the scrying attempt on the other side of the Ring, we might get a more accurate reading on Gustave's location. Or if that doesn't work, we could capture and interrogate one of the were-people..." (He raises his hand and brings together his thumb and forefinger in an indifferent pinching/choking gesture, like casually squishing a bug.) "Also, if we have time and opportunity, we should search the ancient battlefield for the magic weapons that were promised in the faerie dreamquest."

The dim light must have confused Armando's perception of the girl's maturity; he draws himself up respectfully and hands the platter back to the girl. "Miss Matilda, please see to polishing this platter to a mirror finish, if you please, and return it to me when you are finished. No need to worry about the obverse."

Bejesbakk gazes wisely at Josiane as she attaches the missive to his leg, then gives a discrete nod of his feathered head then launches skyward with much vigor. In less than a minute he is gone from sight.

Due council is then had regarding the reflective virtues of the mirrors at hand, the sizes of elves and men, and possible near-future travel arrangements. Wen judges the oval-shaped platter to be the larger of the two, but the square mirror to be a better surface. Given the circumstances, he reckons they will do. They will have to.

"Yes, milord," peeps Matilda obediently, accepting the platter as Armando passes it from Wen to her. She hastens off to the kitchens with it...

When she has passed out of sight, Ulric rises from his perch and purposefully thumps the spent tobacc from his pipe.
"Well then." he opines ominously, "Who shall hold the fort, as it were?" He makes a face of pious concern, "Who shall await the return of our errant fellows?"

What next..?

Josiane is swift to select one of the more reliable-looking older pilgrims to accompany Matilda. She doesn't want the young girl wandering off to the kitchen alone.

"You have done well, child," she says to her with a warm, approving smile; "I would speak with you further when I return, the Saint willing..."

"Dieter would be fool to attack anything while stranded who knows where!" scowls Ulric once Matilda and the other pilgrims are out of earshot. "Come, let us bring some wit to bear on the situation."

"Your counsel, Lord Ulric, would be most welcome as always," says Josiane, grateful for the grim sorcerer's insight; "What do you suggest our course of action should be?"

"I for one am keen to experience the power of the Ring first hand," states Ulric matter of factly, "And if a field littered with relics of a bygone age lies yonder... so be it." He gathers books and scrolls and pushes them into his pack, then snatches his pipe to him, apparently making ready to leave.

"Lord Ulric, Lord Helmut and myself then," says Josiane; "Who else accompanies us and who remains to guard the pilgrims and inform the search party of what has transpired while they were away?"