Jet-Black Identification, Part 2

The camp is barely up. Gustav, Rask, and Ca’armine are out after food. Alexis works the jet-black ring off his finger and sits down across from Ethelred with it in his palm.

“Red. I want to test this one properly.” Alexis clearly wants to do more than they’ve done before.

“You remember the story on it? The crone at the trading post in the Westlands.”

Alexis waits for the answer before he goes on.

“Here’s what I’ve been sitting on. We’ve been calling it the jet-black ring. That’s a color. Nobody has ever put a name to what it’s actually made of.”

“So we start there. If it comes back jet, great. If it comes back something else, that’s the first thing of consequence we’ll have gotten.”

Alexis gives a slight shrug combined with a nod to the side with his head.

“Then light. I try to put Raiden’s light onto it. Then possibly into it.”

“Then the next parts.”

“Whether it hides anything besides itself. We set it next to something we already understand and see if that thing gets harder to read with it sitting there. If it does, a ring that does nothing has just done something.”

“Whether it changes me. It comes off for a full day, and you watch me and not the ring.”

“Whether it does anything for a body in a bad spot, which means putting me in one. Water to stand on. A short drop onto something soft with a rope on me. A wall to try. A candle before anything hotter. Small first, and you pick how small.”

“I realized I never checked it for certain kinds of secrets. I’ll try those next. Mostly of the invisible kind, but also checking to see if it has alignment to the greater powers that isn’t more-easily determined.”

“And I want to see if you can wear it, and what might happen if you do.”

Alexis turns the ring over in his palm.

“Anything I’ve forgotten? Anything else to add? Other effects I might not be thinking about?”

To Be Informed Is To Be Forearmed

The island on the water level. The others sleep between the two palm trees. Alexis takes the far one.

He told them at the fire what his working was for. The Tear is close and he wants the guidance of the Inner Watch on the tear and the taint. Rask seemed to like the idea.

The carving takes most of the night. He scrapes the sand down to the wet layer and cuts it with the butt of his whip, a section at a time, sitting back to look along the line and then leaning in again.

What it comes out as, for anyone who woke and looked: a wall, drawn as a closed ring around the foot of the tree. Set into the inside of the wall, facing in, a single open eye.

Then he sits back on his heels and lets his eyes go, and for a long while nothing happens at all.

The sand inside the ring starts glowing faintly, evenly. The dim light fades and comes back. Haze comes off the water somewhere in there and settles at knee height around Alexis and his glowing working.

“It answers in the voice you expect,” Alexis mutters to himself.

“The Second Sun was broken and it was called progress as the ruins of what was wrought was stepped on.”

Later.

“The ancients keep it in in rings nobody wears.”

The light under the sand goes almost out, and returns.

“There are shadows around it, it doesn’t throw.”

“The ladder of the gods was climbed with mortal bones and entry was denied, but hubris never ends.”

“It seeks out its others. Its others are itself.”

A long time after that, quieter.

“You will be asked to set it down. Once by a one who wants it. Once by a one who loves you.”

“The one is supported by the two.”

Find the one who feeds him iron and blood... the one who believes he can control him

His hands are flat on the sand.

“It remembers.”

The haze is gone by the time he comes back to himself, and the sand has stopped giving light. His knees have locked. Alexis works the feeling into them, then goes around the ring on his hands and knees, putting the sand back in place.

“Well,” he says. “That’s more than I had.”

Not All Loss Is Equal

Shortly after the group gets to the new camp site after leaving the time-vault in Nodden-Torr. Alexis finds a quiet moment with Ethelred.

“The vault of the Dragon was hard on you, my friend. Your armor, your silks, your spyglass. I know what a loss each of those things was, and I want to do what I can to help you recover what you can. Or work around it.”

“I’m glad I’ve still got you here with us.” Alexis pats Ethelred on the shoulder and walks away.

Sights set on familiar distances

(During the leveling up 2 weeks)

The recent loss everyone has felt has effected Ethelred quite profoundly. The loss of the spyglass the object itself is noticeable. The spot he kept it in his pack, now empty. The replacement lens must find a new purpose.

But the sense that the true loss is that of gaining knowledge. The joy of going aloft into the treetops and peering deeply beyond ones eyesight. Forever that exact feeling is nothing but a memory.

But there are many paths to the same result. The path of the spyglass is closed. The path to have such knowledge is not.

Part of each day is spent in a tree, peering with his own eyes into the beyond. Up here there is little but endless shades of green, the occasional rocky outcropping, of course the mountain and birds. Many birds.

During the second week Red takes to feeding the local birds, meat, seeds, bugs. Whatever he can find. It is amusing to see them flutter around, weary but eager for the meal.

Ethelred takes a new interest in Gustav and Sally Crow. Watching the kinship. The sense Red gets is that Gustav and Sally can work together in a way non of us can.

“Gustav, what can you tell me about your relationship with Crow? I have taken less interest in her than others. But I see now, maybe for the first time really, that you and her have a… sense of each other?”

“What does that feel like?”

“What can you sense?”

Which Dark Power Is Trying to Rise?

A few nights into the camp east of Nodden-Torr, as the group sits down to eat togehther.

“The Made feed on a wound. That is what makes the dead god weep. And the wound gets poisoned. Every day, with blood.”

“Drayek is the god of poison.”

Alexis’ hand grazes against the shield of Raiden that hangs at his neck..

“Drayek’s whose cult put its name to a pact with Shasherak, on that wall out in the Westlands. The terms can’t be read, but it’s clear someone was owed something.”

Alexis pauses, sitting with this. He’s been thinking about these things, but is still thinking.

“As I see it: three ways to read what Bandesingh is doing.”

“One. He raises Ath, and brings darkness on the world by bringing back the god of betrayal.”

“Two. He raises Shasherak and Ath was supposed to be the cost paid. When I gave Vorgoth the name Bandesingh, he answered that Shasherak has found another road. Perhaps this is a coincidence. But we know that Dauntless contained a piece of Ath, and Dauntless was created to battle blood magic. This is leading me to wonder if Ath is actually the god of treachery. Ath being the father of Drayek, feels like it plays into what’s going on, but I’m not sure how.”

“Three. Something else, but my gut says no.”

“Raiden and Avv want us to stop whatever darkness Bandesingh is trying to unleash on us all. We’ll be better prepared if we know what exactly Bandesingh is attempting.”

Alexis looks around the group to see if anyone else has anything to add.

Where is Our Barrick (of Ty-Linn?)

A few nights into the camp east of Nodden-Torr. Alexis waits until the group is gathered between their individual tasks.

“I’m feeling more confident that the Barrick who went into that mountain is Barrick of Ghanil.”

“Same name, and not a common one. And there are a lot of big events surrounding this Barrick. The ones we know about: the Ty-Lin garden, the Ty-Lin warding of King Ilceros’ tomb, the orcish runes covering his body, retrieving a Tear of Avv. And the big event we’re not sure about: him giving comfort and solace to a village of refugees.”

A silver piece starts over his knuckles.

“And Rotheldod said that Barrick was the least ‘betrayer’ of the group, which fits someone who would tend to a village of refugees… when looked at through a Rotheldod lens.”

“When we were arguing over the Thater refugees I told Telosh I was no Barrick of Ghanil, not realizing I might actually someday follow in his footsteps.”

The coin stops. Alexis twirls it in his palm.

“Barrick and his group got their Tear, which they can’t have gotten in this when. But I assume the refugees in Gahnil were still tended by Barrick. So where is he in our when?”

Doubts and Questions

Late into the two weeks of contemplation, exercise and study, Rask approaches Ca’armine while the others are busy with their work.

“Ca’armine, do you have moment to talk?” Rask asks quietly and nods his head to the side a bit to indicate privacy.

The two step away from the others a bit and Rask continues quietly.

“Things have changed. This… is not the same world we left. We all can see it, I can feel the raw power of Aegir again, you can feel Raiden again right?”

Rask pauses for Ca’armine to affirm.

“I have been focused on stopping the Dark Hand, stopping Bandesing, it’s why we joined this group. What if Bandesing doesn’t exist here Ca’armine? Did we defeat the Dark Hand by changing history? Is there a new enemy we don’t even know about?”

Rask is confused, uncertain and concerned, even vulnerable.

When Did the Sky Break?

A few nights into the camp east of Nodden-Torr after the group has left the time-vault, well out past the fire. A pale shape sits on a branch a little above him, about the size of the owl. Alexis paces below.

“Vorgoth told me no mortal had crossed his bridge since the sky broke.”

“I’ve been taking that for the Great Betrayal. Two other possible dates. The Great Upheaval. The Time of Wyrms and Darkness. Both of them sit well before the Second League.”

“But the coins in the griffins’ nest were second age. Every one of them. Whoever built that place, almost certainly built it in the second age, so both the other dates are too early.”

“Or something inside the second age…”

Alexis shrugs. He turns the Collegium ring, thinking of all the history books he now wishes he had actually read.

“But maybe I need to look at this all different.”

“He’s a fire giant. A giant’s words, a human calendar.”

“Some in the Collegium say fire giants live in volcanos. Some say they come from an entirely different plane.” A pause. “I had him in front of me and there was so much I would have liked to have asked him.”

“If the sky broke and put him here… then it’s his people’s word for their own arrival and it has nothing to do with our second age at all.”

Alexis gestures farewell to his audience, but it’s not there. Surely he would have heard it fly away. His hearing has been much better since he started wearing the ring of the Spider.

Of Aegier

During the few times Ethelred catches glimpse of Rask’s tattoos he notices something. Maybe it is this latest set of scrolls from the Colleguim. Maybe something else from the recent adventure.

Red notices that Rask’s tattoos are not specifically Radien focused. There are elements of course. But the designs seem very focused on Aegier itself. As if the lands themselves have power.

“Rask, I have noticed that your tattoos are not what I had expected. It seems they are not as focused on Raiden as I had assumed.”

“I have been studying runes with this most recent batch of scrolls. Has given me a new appreciation for the design, the intent, the effects of such workings.”

“What can you tell me of the designs? The effects? What meaning they have to you?”

Mushrooms

Ca’armine has trouble settling down, the first few days in the wild.  The last few days his world—did he even think of “world” in the same way before?—has been turned upside down.  The sense, of not feeling Raiden’s presence, haunts him.  And now?  Raiden is there when Ca’armine reaches out, but it’s different somehow.  He doesn’t know how exactly, yet. Things are different. 

The monastery wasn’t there anymore.  Tumble down stones, he imagined– but they weren’t there.  Every member of the team, walked past the clearing.  All of them saw it.  All of them looked a second time.  None of them stopped. 

We knew things were different right then.  We were back in the world.  But things were deeply different.

On the third day—praying to Raiden every day, communing with his god, but on a level that maintained, rather than grew, their bond—he realized that he was different

Not the person who had walked into Nodden-Tor. 

First he prepared his spells for the day, then he checked in with his team to let them know he would be away.  He put on his pack, with nothing in it but a water skin and a blanket, strapped a knife on his belt, and set forth.  After a few minutes, he picked up speed and ran across the clearings between trees, to get space between himself and the area he had already explored, hunted, and knew well.

He did not stop to forage or hunt on the first day, so when night came he laid down hungry.  He woke up with the sun, already feeling better.  Today he did not commune with Raiden.  He got up and started running.again.

Before the sun got back to midheaven, though, he felt the fatigue start to slow him, and he started hunting instead.  The knife was the wrong tool, so he made a spear.  He found a muddle of rabbit tracks in a bit, and held still by a maple tree until the rabbits felt confident to leave their holes.  He got two.  Tying them up he started looking for  downed wood and a place to build a fire. 

Along with the wood, he found some mushrooms.  Intrigued, he examined them.  When crushed the stems turned blue.  He gathered all of them, and he moved on with cooking.  Why not grab some salt on the way out of camp!  Ca’armine laughed at himself and ate the damn coneys.  With some of the mushrooms.

Things got different then. 

Eating the bluing mushrooms, had been an important point in his first months away from the Raidensblud.  Long ago, there was a random night at a random inn, when a fellow-traveler had offered him a soil-bound cluster of the same type, warning him they were “strong.”  They roamed around together that night, until Rion—Ca’armine thought he was probably a thief by trade though he said he was in “real estate”—said he needed to lie down.  That was the night Ca’armine realized that, he must be a servant of Raiden, without being a tool of the Raidensblud.  It was compicated, it was intense, it was revelatory.  For awhile he thought he might be a druid.

Ca’armine spent the whole night under the stars that night, communing with Raiden and feeling the earth.  The mushrooms made him vomit of course, they always did—so in the morning he felt the pangs of hunger intensely.  When the partridges came out in the early morning he knocked one down with a well-aimed stone, and cooked breakfast in the same fire.  He started walking back to the party’s loose encampment.

When he resumed his training the next day, and rejoined his comrades in training activities, he found a change in his perspectives.  An additional dimensionality—time, frequently, fittingly—using greater spell complexity to achieve greater effects.  Finding capacity for closer and more frequent communion with Raiden.  Expanding on the ability to protect from, and even to purge, evil attachment. Growing more powerful.

This world might be different from the one where he was born.  But it’s the world where he lives.  Where he serves Raiden. 

Thereafter, he spends time every day seeking out components from the forest around, especially bluing mushrooms, and making incense with those components.