Briox was saddling a Grey Cat, before he hadn't ridden them because there was no way to bring them into Rifthollow without the Hyser Empire hunting him, and he couldn't just leave them to roam outside as he did his buisness. Now that wasn't a concern as he would be bringing far more than a single Grey Cat and speed was more important than hiding. He checked the trinkets and alchemical potions he had decided to bring. He would have to make sure that his Red Swords had some, all those years ago it had been the tools he had made that had saved his life far more than his magic. He of course knew a few combat spells, every mage learned something to defend themselves. Of course the easiest offensive spells were also readilly countered by nearly anyone who knew to prepare beforehand. Briox closed the saddle bags buckling them closed, apprentice magi were only fit to rout bandits and common soldiers.
A throat was cleared behind him and Briox glanced back his eyes seeing something from his past for a moment before they focused on Crossax and a somewhat familiar blue goblin holding something wrapped in cloth. "Ah was there something you needed? I was about to ask you to make some extra preparations for the Red Swords" Briox spoke. Crossax nodded "Yes this here is Blue Bignose, designated goblin boss for any projects you need handled. He is young but has performed well leading the Blues while you were unconcious. If you need any of the Blues from the warrens he can get them for you. In addition with some direction from me they have prepared something for you before you leave". The goblin, Blue Bignose, stepped forward and knelt bowing his head and holding the package over his head "From the Blues my lord". Briox was taken aback looking at Crossax and the the gift offered for him. Reaching out he slowly unfolded the cloth and sharply inhaled as he saw what waited for him upon the goblins palms.
The Palmier Blade was a terrible weapon, nearly impossible for any normal man to wield and far out performed as a weapon by almost anything else. It was a short sword or perhaps a very long dagger ussually between fourteen and eighteen inches long. The most notable feature of the blade was its incredible width at the base, never less than four inches wide, and triangular shape. All considerations for any kind of sword play or knife fighting were essentially useless with this weapon. It had been made for one purpose, to be stabbed into something by a being with inhuman strength capable of tearing through anything in front of its point with shear strength while relying on magical imbuement or materials to prevent the tip from failing. It was an old design, created by Magus Palmier in responce to a war in which his enemies used large mud golems, blunt weapons did little against the golems and most normal weapons simple became stuck or would break from the resistance of passing through the golems bodies. The Palmier Blade solved that by piercing in and then relying on strength to simply drive the blade into its target, in the end opening a massive cut by stabbing and ensuring that all you had to do to retrieve your weapons was pull back and stab again.
In the end the blade was far inferior to most other weapons of a similar size, and if you had the strength to stab a Palmier to the hilt why not just hit them with a club or find one of the giant weapons that some warriors carried. Briox looked at the silver shine of spell steel and slowly lifted the blade turning it so he could see his reflection in the side. His brown eyes stared back at him, the golden flecks of light dancing within his pupil seemed to glow brighter for a moment as the runes in his body vibrated with his emotions. Slowly he lowered the blade from his eyes and looked down at Bignose "You made this?". Bignose looked up "With help my lord". Briox slowly nodded as if matters of great weight were bearing him down "You have done well, while i travel to the battle can your people ensure that the Red Swords are outfitted with recipe three-seven-eight and two-four-nine from the alchemy labs?". The goblin nodded "Of course my lord, shall i begin now?". Briox waved his hand at him "Go". Crossax watched the goblin stand and then quickly stride for the exit obviously determined to start his task. Once Bignose left the area he pulled a scabbard from the air handing it over to Briox "For your sword, the little fellow was so busy forging the sword he forgot to give you something to put it in". Briox smiled "Thanks, and i just asked him to handle what i was going to ask you to arrange earlier". Crossax waved his hands fluidly "Its alright, i'll have my chance to do things once you reach battle. Speaking of battle what are those recipes? Alchemy is far from my specialties so i don't know any of the numerical listings". Briox nodded "Minor explosives and healing balm, they could prove useful". Crossax nodded and Briox looked around the stable before sighing "Since your here do you mind sending us off from here instead of the entrance?". Crossax spoke "Of course, safe journeys Magus Briox". Crossax rippled, his form becoming unclear, his robes stretching into tendrils of black energy and dark runes rose from his form before he chanted "Ih speca, hildar if ell, teka thos chold on uyir gresp end trensfar hom ti tha pleca thet o heva merkad".
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The world shifted and Briox found himself and his mount in a small mountaint grove, a stone stele nearby the only manmade item around, and also the spacial marker for the sanctuary, one of its anchors to the material plane. Glancing at the marker, effectively the door to his home, Briox then turned to his greycat mounting it and quickly taking the reins. The journey to Rifthollow should be fast, and from there he would be on a course from which there was no return. No, Briox shook his head, that wasn't right. He was already on a course of no return, it was just time for his ship to come home, rocky shores or no. "Lets go" he spoke to his mount and it took off, a rapid lope that would easily catch most horses, and one that the magical being could hold for the entire trip.
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Far away across the mountains a convoy travled through the hilly terrain of the borderlands. They had left Rifthollow some days ago, but travel was slow with wagons and over a hundred men traveling. The soldier escort, a display of imperial might marched in perfect step, a hundred skills soldiers. With them traveled two dozen rune soldier, their magical arms clearly a step above the common soldiers, each of them as fresh after a day of marching through the rough terrain as they were when they awoke that morning. Behind them came the caravan, dozens of servants, squires, cooks and teamsters. All of them surrounding one carriage, the inquisitors convoy was a staggering force upon the borders of fallen Islandyer. Easily able to crush any lords soldiers even without the Inquisitor and the Magus Priest of Hyser that traveled alongside him. A stuck wagon was holding them up even more, the rune soldiers and mages of course wouldn't help unless it became a big deal, so a dozen servants pushed at the back of the wagon struggling to unstick it as fast as possible, as it began to move one of the servants slipped, taking others down into the mud with him. A dozen men cursed the one who slipped as he apologized to the others. Finally they were all made to stand aside as one of the rune soldier stepped up and pulled the wagon from the mud. Withers took the short break they were allowed to try and scrape some of the mud from his shirt, his "accidental" fall had left him rather cold and wet.