Part 3: A reckoning rides from the west

"Os wanted to go night fishing," she says, glaring darkly in the direction of his boat. "And he couldn't resist the urge to show off his baby to my companions."

"Forge's hot breath, he loves that boat," Ulfgard says. "Well, just...stay out of the water, if Segoa is real."

"That will not be a problem," she says. "I intend to stay far away from that boat for the rest of my time here. Much rather be at the forge anyway. Speaking of which...I need a hammer. A big one. The sword is fine, but...it doesn't feel...quite right. I'd love your help. It's been far too long since I've been back."

"Well, let's go make you a hammer," Ulfgard says. 

Katrin grins, and pushes off from the railing, heading towards the forge.

The pair spend the remainder of the day in the forge, working fine steel into the head of a warhammer. A finely polished ashwood haft becomes the handle, the grip wrapped in fine leather from the tanners.  "That's fine metal-work," Ulfgard says, hefting the hammer, then handing it to Katrin. "If we had more time, we could have made it from mithril. But something tells me you don't have the time."

Katrin takes the hammer, running a hand across the traditional Dwarven designs she had etched into the metal. "If I had enough time, I'd make an entire set of armor out of mithril. But," she says, smiling at her father, "I'll take what I can get. Thanks for doing this with me."

"Of course,  Tochter," he says with a smile. He wipes sweat from his brow and flicks it into the forge fire, where it sizzles and turns to steam immediately. "Nowhere else I'd rather be. Hammer's Fall for a drink?" Katrin agrees and father and daughter head for the village watering hole where dwarven ale flows freely for members of Clan Ironstone.

In the following days after their eventful venture onto the waters and everything that happened, Lilliana approaches Thrandimir as he was researching about Segoa. She clears her throat as she comes up behind him, she smiles apologetically as she takes a seat. “Hey, I know we have had our differences and disagreements, but I think you understand better than anyone else why I was so defensive with you; it takes one to know one and I was terrified you were going to see right through me and out me to the others. So, I guess I want to say I’m sorry for the way I treated you from the onset.” She takes a deep breath and pushes onward. “I was also wanting to ask if you would be willing to help teach me Old Tollanian. I have seen that your knowledge in that language has come in handy.” She grins as Thrandimir nods his agreement and she turns her attention wholly to his tutelage in the ancient langauge…

The party has reunited in the Hammer's Fall for a late lunch. Thrandimir and Renly are sharing the stories they learned of the legends of Segoa when Ulfgard returns from the mines. "The team working on your resiq just finished. They'll get it ready for shipment as soon as they can." "That won't be necessary, Master Ulfgard," a voice says from the door. Marianne strides into the room. "I will take responsibility for transporting the crystal." Ulfgard looks strangely at the newcomer, then looks back at Katrin and the rest of the Fireblades. "Uh...a friend of yours, then? Pardon me, miss, but it's a large crystal. You sure you won't be needing help?" "Quite sure, yes," she says. She looks at Katrin. "I'll allow you to make the introductions."

Katrin looks at her father, then back to Marianne before standing. She takes a long swig of her ale. "This is my father, Ulfgard Ironstone. He's the head of my family and the leader of our clan," she says, gesturing to her father, then gestures to the sorceress.  "Father, this is Marianne. She owns the Fireblade Tavern, the one I've told you about. So, yes, I suppose you can call her a friend."

"A pleasure to meet you then, Marianne," Ulfgard says.  "You as well, Master Ulfgard," she replies with a small bow. Her eyes scan the gathered people and, not for the first time, land on Renly. "And who might you be?"

Renley eyes the woman with an air of suspicion as she suddenly appears in the doorway, watching her strut through the room and claim the resiq the group had come for, though he acquiesces upon Katrin's introduction — on top of the fact she evidently held claim to the Fireblades' very nameship. "Renley Henri Benoit Delacroix," He bows w ith an ever-growing grin and a gallant tip of his hat. " Enchant ée, madame. Ah must say, rarely do Ah visit many tavuhns these days, but Ah wasn't aware resiq had become a lahge part'uh that sorta operation."

Marianne nods graciously to Renley. "A pleasure, Master Delacroix," she says. She looks toward Ascian and opens her mouth, but then closes it again. Her next question is directed at the Fireblades. "How much have you told Renley here? About the resiq, and everything else."

Renley is quick to raise his hands. “Apologies, Ah was only here to discuss the Segoa sitchiation with Monsieur Thrandimir. If this is of a more private matter, allow me to excuse mahself.”

Katrin looks at Renley, but speaks to Marianne. "Very little, to my knowledge...but...," she focuses her next words to Renley. "If you're interested in sticking around, we could fill you in."  She looks at Marianne again. "Renley assisted DragonVale when there was pretty bad mining accident not long ago. I'd be okay with telling him what we know."

Renley looks from Katrin to Marianne and back, raising a brow but otherwise offering a short shrug. "Ah don't have the faintest what any uh this is about but, well, if yuh inviting me to stay Ah'll admit my cuhriosity's suhtainly peaked. What'd'y'say the other day Monsieur Silver Blade? 'A story best told over more than a few pints', was it?" He chuckles as he gives Akiran a smile, then turns back to Marianne, "S'pose now ain't the time fuh that but, well Ah'm all ears mon cherie ."

"Let me explain," Marianne says, then pauses. "No, there is too much. The others can fill you in later. Let me sum up. Ascian's brother is being held captive by a powerful entity named Vecna in the Shadowfell, a realm that is a dark reflection of this world. In order to rescue him, we need a rather substantial amount of resiq. This Vecna is responsible for the destruction of the city of Daerheim 60 odd years ago." She glances at Renley for a moment. When the doctor doesn't react, she presses on. "Daerheim has been wiped from the public consciousness of every nation, as its mere existence now is a reminder of Vecna's power. It is this way that the leaders of this world prevent Vecna from ascending to godhood. But that control is crumbling, and soon Vecna may grow too powerful to stop." She looks again at Renley. "Any questions?" Off to the side, Ulfgard grunts and holds his head in pain.

Renley listens intently, but by the second mention of "Daerheim", his head begins to throb and pulse in a sudden jolt of pain. He holds a hand up as he grimaces through the pain.  "P-pahdon but... Ah fear Ah missed part of that. My... my head's suddenly all afire." Shaking himself back to his senses, he frowns. "Ah've no recollection fr— of that time of any 'Vecna' or 'Daerheim' or any uh'that. And Ah've only studied some but Ah've nevuh heard a'magic wiping the memories of a whole country 'fore."

"It's a powerful enchantment," Marianne says. "Overcoming it takes time. But the enchantment has been...well, weakened in recent days." She looks closely at Renley, violet eyes seeming to pierce the doctor's mind. "I believe I can break you free of the enchantment, but it may be painful."

Renley's golden irises stare back at her, a mix of suspicion and amusement flaring through them as he throws up and his hands and laughs. "Ahh, well madame when it comes to pain, she an Ah are old acquaintences of a sort — bit of a longstanding relationship, really — so if there's some sortuh enchantment on me right now, Ah don't mind a reunion if it means breaking free." "'Course,"  he reaches into his inner coat pocket and once more produces the odd silver-scored black flash from within, "Don't hurt none t'dull 'er a bit."

"Prepare yourself, then," Marianne says. Her hands touch Renley's temples and energy flares through his mind. Marianne's touch is gentle, but within the recesses of Renley's brain, arcane lashes flay away at walls that Renley hadn't even realized were there. He takes a swig from the flask and allows the sorceress to continue. A few more seconds and the arcane tendrils flay away the rest of the enchantment. Memory returns to him.

The woman's fingers touch his temples, and in an instant pain sears through his mind. Renley maintains eye contact at first, even as nothing comes to him, but while he offers little more than a wince, he can feel each synapse and neuron sear in a wall of fire that rips through his mind. With the first sip of his flask, his irises again adapt a golden glow as they had days earlier when helping Katrin on the boat, and again a swirl of inky blackness swirls out from the corners of his eyes and across his face through each vein, running down the length of his neck as the skin seems to grow taut. Again the pain flares, his hand reaching up to grasp the sorceress' forearm firmly as he bares the brunt of the psychic assault until finally, something clicks, and memories long forgotten flood back into place where he'd once known them to be. And not just memories... but feelings too. Feelings of panic. As his complexion returns to normal, his expression changes. For the first time the Fireblades have seen, the good doctor's jovial grin completely drops. His lips tighten and pupils dilate sharply as in its place arises a look of pure fear. " Merde... "  he curses, "He still lives after all..." Taking another, longer swig from the flask before stashing it, he pushes the lingering pain from his mind as the full scale of the past consumes his senses instead. " 'Scuse-moi , Ah'd forgotten that feeling.  Regahdless, y'all'uh planning to use that resiq to enter the Shadowfell? Where Vecna is? And y'all understand the kind of crea-chuh he is and ah going anyway?"  He laughs in disbelief and shoots Akiran another look. "You weren't lyin' when yuh said Ah probably wouldn't believe yuh."

Wearily hefting his mug he meets Renly's gaze "Ya we ain't da smartest bunch." After a deep swallow of the dwarven beer he adds "An' I didn't want da crazy magic ta fry ya brain." With an evaluating look at the doctor, that ends with a tired laugh & shrug  "Hell ya may notta had ta much to fry if ya still hangin with us and lettin' strange mages mess wit ya head." Ending his joke with a good natured thump on Renly's back.  Turning to Marianne the scales on his face growing taught and his eyes growing serious  "So when we leavin'? Faster we can clean this mess up da better." His mind flashes back to the hours he spent in the forge, nodding at Katrin  "Fore we go I need ta find her brother, gotta favor ta ask da.... "captain""

Marianne shakes her head. "You still have plenty of time," she says. "Unfortunately, we cannot leave for the Shadowfell until I spend some time attuning the resiq to its specific planar frequency." She turns her attention to Ascian. "Which I will need your help to do, Ascian."

Ascian looks up from where he'd faded into the corner with Ember, his grey eyes lifting with difficulty to meet Marianne's. "What do I need to do?" The uncertainty in his voice only shifts to something stronger when he adds, "How long will it take."

"I simply require your presence," Marianne says. "You have a natural attunement to the Shadowfell. I will need to alter the resiq ever so slightly, in increments, so that it matches your harmonics. I do not know how long it will take, but I will send for the rest of you when it is done. It may be weeks yet."

"....alright." Ascian casts a reluctant look around the others before slinking forward, Ember padding silent behind him. As he reaches Marianne his eyes lift and hold Katrin's for a moment before sliding off again to roam the floor. "Stay safe."

Katrin steps over to Ascian, looking at the tall, young man she had grown so fond of. A lump forms in her throat. "Oh, you don't have to worry about me," she says with a small smile. "Look after yourself. And Ember." She turns to the wolf, placing her hands on his broad shoulders. "You take care of him. He needs you," she gives Ember a kiss on the forehead, then straightens up. "We'll be ready when you call us," she says to Marianne.

"Be ready," Marianne says. "This will not be an easy journey." A few minutes later, outside, Marianne and Ascian stand next to a large crate containing the resiq crystal. Ember sniffs tentatively at the box, chuffs indignantly at it, and then refuses to look at it.  "Stay safe," Marianne says to the Fireblades. And with that, a swirling violet light envelops her, Ascian, Ember, and the crate. Moments later, they are all gone.

Katrin stands in the Hammer's Fall tavern, unsure now what she should do next. "So...what next? Seems we have some time on our hands," Katrin says to the rest of them, finishing up her ale. 

"Segoa's still an alluring little threat at play,"  Renley shrugs, moving to take a seat at a table. "In all honesty Ah'm a'course not one to tell y'all what to be doing, and on top of that Ah'm still tryna propuhly digest learning the most powuhful mage a'the last century not only still lives but was erased from my memory t'make me fuhget he ever had ."

Draining the last bit of ale in his mug  "If we got time I was thinkin' of talkin' ta ya brother, seein' if there's anything we can do to help da Dragonborn clans an' your village. I made some weapons I need ta get ta him too."

Katrin nods, still a little distracted by Ascian's departure. "I'm sure Os will be happy to help. We all will."

Later that evening, the remaining Fireblades sit down with Osrik. Akiran explains the situation, and Osrik nods. "I can get you back to where we went a few days back," he says. "But my next delivery isn't scheduled for a month. I do not know if they will be nearby."

Akiran nearly winces as he remembers his clan's rejection, shaking his snout the Dragonborn meet's Oskirk's eyes "I was looking for ah way ta help em, without gettin' em caught up. If ya get what I mean? Want ta make it better for em without bringing any heat down. I already made a few weapon for ya ta take to em, but wanted to see if ya knew a way we could help?"

Osrik strokes his beard thoughtfully. "Well, I'm sure there are lots of ways you could help," he says. "I'm sure you know that they're a stubborn lot. I'd say you could give them whatever you did to solve the famine troubles, but they can't stay anywhere long enough to plant crops. What they need is a home..." He trails off, looking thoughtfully into the bottom of his copper cup. "There might be...something. There's an old keep down there, along the Dragonvale River. It's old. Really old. Not in great shape. But the walls are mostly still intact. Might make a good place for them to set up shop, only...well..." Osrik takes a long drink. "It's too close to the Wildlands. Don't get me wrong, the ground there is good...or well, it will be. But the keep's been abandoned for a long time. There are stories..."

For a moment Akiran's scales ruffle in excitement as the Dragonborn envisions the glory and tales that could be spun if claimed the keep in his people's name. Finding the clans not only a new home but the magic to feed themselves.  Though the excitement quickly fades, as Osrik said his people are stubborn. There's more than a chance that they would turn down the new home and magic if they knew it came from him.  His snout opens, preparing to turn the Dwarf down. But he surprises even himself as his words come tumbling out "Walls and land ta grow can give em a fighting chance even if da keep is old. What stories ya heard, is there any one holed up in there now?"

"The stories say that the keep's lord and army still man the castle walls," Osrik says. "Not sure if I believe it, but there have been a few adventurous types that have come through the village in recent years. They've sought the old keep, and never returned. It's called Riversward on the old maps."

Renley leans in, suddenly enthralled at where this story was heading. “Yuh saying it’s haunted , aren’t yuh?”  A wide grin spreads over the doctor’s face as he props his chin up in his hands. “Ah adore  a good scary story. Do go on.”

Osrik sighs. "You haven't had enough of those, going around town asking about Segoa?" He shrugs. "I didn't really pay attention to those stories. Sailors that pass by at night swear they sometimes hear things from the keep as they pass by -- a smith's hammer, sergeants calling drills, armor clanking -- everything you'd expect to hear from a fortress, except that they only hear silence by day."

The doctor laughs behind a gloved hand. "Consider it an... occupational cuhriosity, Ah suppose. Cuhtainly has all the hallmarks of an honorary haunting, at least. P'haps our late lord friend has yet tuh receive his eviction notice." He looks to Akiran with a sheepish grin. "Sure we could handle a simple courier job if it helps yuh family avoid... unwanted attention, no?"

The scales on Akiran's snout flatten "Never fought a ghost before, usually 'void things I can't stab or stomp" Looking to Thrand  "Ya know of ah way we can take down a ghost?"

Lilli looks between Osrik and Akiran as they discuss that possibility of finding a place for his clan to turn into their home, but... ghosts? It wasn't that she did not believe in the existence of vengeful spirits lingering from beyond the veil of death, it was more that the idea frightened her. The stump of her leg ached in a sympathetic pain as she recalled several of the adventures they had partaken in the last few weeks; demons in the sewers, tentacled monsters in caves, elemental creatures in a barn, Segoa's spawn, and a gods damned dragon!  Still... it seemed important to Akiran, which meant she was there for him. "I'm in. I'd be interested to see how a ghost handles my gravity magic!" She forces a grin with false bravado as she leans over and claps Akiran on the shoulder. 

Tegan J. said: The scales on Akiran's snout flatten "Never fought a ghost before, usually 'void things I can't stab or stomp" Looking to Thrand  "Ya know of ah way we can take down a ghost?" "Depends on the ghost," Thrandimir notes with a wry chuckle, "on what's binding it here, keeping it from passing on. Your best bet's a priest, or somebody with holy magic," the wizard adds, glancing pointedly at Katrin.

Katrin raises an eye at Thrandimir. "Ghosts aren't my specialty, but I like to try new things," she says, glancing at her brother with an equally pointed look. "As long as it doesn't involve boats and lakes."

"Fastest way to get there would be by boat," Osrik says with a slight grin.

Renley stifles a laugh. “Surely Segoa ain’t lookin’ fuh another fight so soon, though, no?”  Removing his spectacles, he breathes fog over the lenses and begins wiping them with a small handkerchief pulled from his coat pocket. “Hypothetically speaking of course, if we  didn’t wanna chance a watery tit-for-tat, what would, say, the second -fastest way be?”

Lilli looks around at the others. "I think I would prefer to avoid those waters for now, given our most recent encounter with watery creatures." She feels a bit of a phantom pain radiating from her missing left leg. "I agree with Renley. What's our other options?"

Katrin, who had been glaring pointedly at her brother, visibly relaxes when Lilli votes to avoid the water.