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Each Morning

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Each morning when Red sits down to study he pull out his dagger and the stone. He sets the stone down before him. He holds the dagger with care. He goes over each part of the spell to bring flame from the blade. Each gesture, each word, each change in temperature, each way the energy moves. Careful he is to not actually bring forth the flame, but to merely warm the blade. Attention is paid to how the energy moves, where it comes from, how it interacts, where it goes. Slowly he practices. Always aware of the presence of the stone.

While traveling Red will take as much time as he can in the cart, going back over the scrolls. While he appreciates they have a ‘natural order’ he attempts to find other ways to organize them. First he just mixes them up, like one would a deck of cards. A fresh take on an old subject.

Next he looks for similarities and rearranges them around theme, common words, general similarities and even opposites. Each reordering of the scrolls reveals new dimensions to the words.

Each morning after study Red approaches Alexis, stone in his palm and ask it today is the day. So far, no.

Saddles to Summon Unkillable Steeds

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As the group is all on the surface near the ruined tower where they found and imprisoned Zyrithack, during some down time. Alexis talks to the group

“Some of the greatest human knights, scouts, and explorers used to have saddles that would summon steeds which would never tire. The greatest of these were said to summon steeds that could even carry their riders across the water or open air across chasms.”

“For this kind of exploring” Alexis gestures to the ruins “we could really use some of those saddles. Unfortunately I don’t know where the great knights and scouts could have been housed around these human lands. Perhaps the Collegium has one or two in the bowels. Perhaps there are some in Ederos. Perhaps there are a few between here and Ederos.”

“Red, is this the sort of thing you could figure out? Some essence of the Westlands imbued in saddles, that is brought forth. Or perhaps a creature captured in a saddle that is forced to serve in the form of a horse. Perhaps a creature like Yog’s large cat. Or the 3-armed giant. Or Earyka.” Alexis gives Ethelred a large, playful smile and a wink “How would that work without necromancy? Perhaps there’s a better way.” Alexis waits for an answer from his companion.

The Mystery of the Crown and Hammer

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Over some breakfast since leaving the 1st Gate, Alexis is thinking aloud

“Without Drennos I can go back to my musings.” after a little pause Alexis continues.
“I’m still thinking about the Hammer and Crown, and what the Collegium is supposed to be kept from knowing. What about the history or the nature of those artifacts is supposed to stay hidden? Since nobody but villains talks to non-humans” Alexis says with sarcasm “it seems reasonable that the knowledge that the Collegium doesn’t have was acquired from non-humans… perhaps from some long-lived creature or from some lost library.”

“Perhaps the Crown and Hammer could be items that Dwarves would rally behind, but it seems like they would have to be held by a Dwarf, otherwise they wouldn’t be objects to trade, but objects to use.”

“The simple explanation, the uneducated explanation, is that these items are connected and together they form a symbol of royalty. Similar to a crown and scepter.”

“Less intuitive is that they are somehow items used by some ‘rightful chosen of the Maker’, and the hammer is the real item. It forges something. But this gets into wild speculation.”

“What would be a threat to our enemies, or a great boon to them, from those items, that the Collegium wouldn’t be aware of?” Alexis thinks on this while they all eat together.

So Many Lost (Dwarven) Cities

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At some point when the group is all together after Zyrithack has been enslaved in the black blade. The group is talking about what happened. Alexis speaks.

“Zyrithack mentioned Thun-Bül-Dor. Given the twisted path Zyrithack took to get to this location at this time, it could be anywhere. Given how close the legendary dwarven city of Dura-Intun was, maybe Thun-Bül-Dor is just as close. We know there are Dwarves under the Twins, and that the dwarves used to control the top of the Twins as well. There are Dwarves under Mount Sutheron, and perhaps they used to control its peak as well. Perhaps Mount Sutheron was Thun-Bül-Dor. Or the fabled Nadden-Tor. Maybe every major mountain used to hold a dwarven city. Maybe there are old dwarven cities abutting Middlebar fort. That could be a major boon for the rebels if that was true.” Alexis thinks on this for a moment.

“Maybe Mount Lanos has a dwarven city. Maybe Thun-Bül-Dor. Maybe Mount Kobos. Maybe even Nadden-Tor!” Alexis gets a far-off look and a smile starts creeping up his face. “Or… Mount Avernus…!” Alexis looks more serious “No. That doesn’t seem right.”

“I need to get a map of all the major mountains. They could all have dwarven cities!”

Baalrex… No Good Dead Goes Unpunished

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Later in the evening after the group has seen Baalrex for the second time and Alexis has the silver coin. The group is in their shared room.

“I’ve been wondering why Baalrex has taken an interest in us. Many interesting things happen in the Collegium, so I thought less about it there. But his showing up here has me wondering about what drew him to us specifically.” Alexis looks thoughtful.

“Given how he exerts a mechanistic, rigid effect on the world, I wonder if our defeat of the Abyssal Lords’ champion earned us an audience with his lordship.”

“Or perhaps something to do with Telosh’s Pit? This doesn’t seem likely, but I can’t rule it out.”

“Perhaps someone has acted as an unwanted intermediary on our behalf and suggested to Baalrex that he solicit us for ‘business’.”

Alexis alternates between studying Baalrex’s silver coin and looking at his companions.

Perfectly Recalled

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Along the journey to the far west Ethelred has the opportunity to receive perfect recall from Alexis. This aids his daily study of the scrolls, brings forth subtle ideas and connections he had missed.

But as Red gets closer and closer to feeling like he can make a flame spring from a blade, he is nervous he might have missed some details of the instructions.

With perfect recall in place he closes his eyes, focuses on recalling the full interaction of receiving the scrolls, and the instructions on what he is to do.

….

Flames in Swamp part II

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After some light scouting of the swamps the group settle back down for another week.

Ethelred takes up working nights again. The focus is the flame. Picking up the slow work of lighting the candle without out burning the wick, without using the material of the candle itself.

Slowly Ethelred works with different materials, different approaches to bringing the flame forth onto the candle. Each night reveals more of the essence of fire, the possible sources of material. Going over the scrolls again and again he tries to find the ‘ley lines’ that the scroll mention can be a source of power. At first his attempt fails, but after a full night of focusing, eyes closed, he sense the faint lines. Pulling slowly from them he is able to produce a small flame, and hold it as the power flows through him.

The following night he attempts to be the source of the flame, to power to effect on his own. Long hours spent, sweat beading his brow as he tries hard to generate the energy needed. Struggle, toil, but no results. Exhausted he sits back down, returns to the ley lines. What become apparent is much like the ley lines, his own power is there. Gradually he is able to feel the power, channeling until he has a small flame in the palm of his hand. Flickering in the wind, his palm a light, warm but not burning.

For the rest of the week he continues to practice, to improve, to grown this flame power. Until he is able to control, understand and transcribe the process into this book. Producing a flame is now something he can do at will.

Progress.

Flame in the Swamp

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As the time of training with the fighters comes to an abrupt end, Red switches focus inward. The task of the flaming dagger become his sole focus. The days become a time to sleep. Nights are spent mostly in the dark, with a single candle he will not light.

He starts with warming his fingers. Feeling how his heat can work to barely soften the wax. Gradually conjuring more heat, but only enough to slightly melt, and never enough to even hint at lighting the candle. Slowly reducing the heat, with the goal of leaving the candle visibly undisturbed.

Night after night he works with the candle, taking it apart more and more. Eventually reducing it into parts: as glob of wax, a bit of wick, some flecks of dirt. Then slowly shaping it back, as if it was never apart.

The material now fully yields to him and reforms. Only then does he begin to bestow light upon the candle. Drawn from, elsewhere than the candle, a few sparks dance around the wick. Without letting them grown to fire or go out, he works them into a dance. One more nights spent with just the sparks.

And then the groups seems restless to do other things with their days the be in camp. Red’s wants no part of exploring, of looking around.

Bandages

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After a particularly active afternoon of training with the fighters Ethelred submits himself to Gustav for some bandaging. While watching the ranger work a phrase from the scrolls pass through Red’s mind.

“Gustav, what do you think about when you are healing people? Does the skill you have flow out of you like water? Are you a river or an ocean of healing?”

Red, for the first time, seems genuinely interested in the healing arts.

Training in the Swamp

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When Red delivered the killing blow to the crocodile something in him stirred. He felt for a moment some kinship with the true fighters of the group. As if a small flame that had been growing within him caught a gust of wind.

Each morning he would rise, eschew his studies and join Rask and Ca’armine for morning training. The work was hard, and Red gained many bruises. Each day seeing small gains in how he held himself, how the weapons felt more like an extension of him.

After the fight training Red would then lead his own lesson in swimming. The cold water felt good, washing away the sweat, calming the wounds. Swimming made Red miss his home and the pools he helped build, and swam in, in Aigier. Aigier seems like such a distant memory now. Home but yet not as familiar as it once was.

As the days wore on Red finally was able to learn some new skills from the fighters. The path of a hero was visible about before him. But that changed…

An off hand comment from Alexis about Ezrin struck Red to the core. The memory of the last time he saw Ezrin laying on the ground, a lump. Could Red have picked up Ezrin and carried him out? Maybe. What would be different now if he had rescued the best magic teacher he has known.

When Red returned to his bed that night he takes up the scrolls, that all seem to echo with Ezrin’s voice in his ears. That night be does not sleep, does not rise to train. He turns his focus from the physical, to the material.