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[WARNING: Loop Integrity 2%]
Corvayne drifted to the ground in his mindscape, landing near the huge lightning ghost as it told him, “NOT READY” and blasted off. He couldn't care less what it thought. He flipped the thing off as it jetted off.
After just staring at the swirling clouds for thirty seconds or ten thousand years, hard to tell, he pushed himself standing and moved to the base of the huge obsidian gateway and sat back down. Growl-Whine was there, silently waiting for him to address her, but not offering advice or comfort.
What should he do? He knew something was happening to Wick. The last weeks, she had gone back and forth from being more physical than he had ever remembered, even flirting and letting him feed her, hold hands... then the next day she'd be cold, walk away from him, keep Hari between them, or act like she was afraid of him.
“What did I do?”
The robed figure moved it's head a little. “Powers.” She gestured at both old gates and then at a new vine covered gate that had the same texture as the fleshy furnishings and a disturbing face as it's capstone. “Or Pacts.” Growl-Whine's ghost (or copy or link or neural parasite) gestured with a claw at the panel already sliding up from the stone ground.
There was a low rumble and Corvayne shook his head. “I... I don't care. I need to fix what I did with Wick.”
The figure didn't move for a few moments. Then the hood nodded. “[[Understanding]]. [[Unity]]. Words... [[Empathy]] [[Companionship]]. [[Trust]].”
“Those will effect others?” He felt a tinge of horror at the idea some power might wipe out the real person he fell in love with. The Spider looked thoughtful. “All five those words safe. Some words dangerous. Make bad pacts. [[Opression]] [[Obsession]][[Domination]][[Haunted]][[Cursed]][[Hunger]][[Rage]]. Dangerous.” Her claws ran up to where her chin might be under her hood. “[[Dangerous]] also Dangerous. Funny.”
“Some of them can force people to act differently?”
The figure nodded enthusiastically. “Why, [Brainjack]... bad move. Only learn desperate. Corvayne's mind dangerous too. Thorns all over. Don't try fix, too dangerous. Only add help.”
Corvayne nodded, even though the presence of a fragment of someone else's mind made him feel very weird for a moment. Get over it. Wick comes first.
“So... if someone is acting odd, and it might be some sort of... emotional problem....”
“[[Empathy]] and [[Understanding]].”
Corvayne thought about it. “Can I split my gains? I wanted to improve my shadow limbs.”
“Touch shadow gate and think of what you want to do. Can spin gate, change what's on it too. Hmm. Not shadow though? Hmm. Odd one. Adept too. Also odd.”
He went up to the misty shadow gate and stepped through, feeling something inside of him shift like a thousand rattling marbles as he passed the threshold. [[Understanding.]]
He woke in the hallway near the Magus marked stone door into the Tower. He was slumped over someone's shoulder. From the fancy fabric he was seeing flowing down the person's back, it was still Nyx. He was about to ask what the noble was doing when the noble lept off the path into flowing water.
There was a splash as the shield displaced the stream, then they were flung into the circular cave where they had climbed in, shield-sphere rolling a little on the lip of the hole before dropping out of the dungeon alongside a spray of water then splashing down into the pool before surfacing, water distorting everything in clear waves as Nyx started walking, rolling his orb to shore.
“I'm awake.”
Nyx took a few more steps then dropped him on the ground. “Good! Wanted you out of the way either way.”
Corvayne just laid on the cold dirt, staring up.
Nyx poked him. “Not going to respond?”
“I was ignoring that something has been off with Wick. Ignoring it, or thinking it would go away. I should have turned the whole group around.”
The noble turned around and sat facing back at The Source. The wind blew his cape a little bit and he turned his shield back on to stop the breeze from flapping it into his face. “Ptah! Why doesn't your cloak do that?”
“It's well made, and all the little adjustments I make with it change what it does. It's smart.”
“Ah. What's it think?” Nyx asked, smirking. Corvayne didn't respond, instead covering his face.
The noble laughed, even his friendliest voice sort of arrogant. “Don't wallow in self-pity, man! She didn't actually say she dumped you! Just to never go near her, ever again! I suppose if you want to pre-game a little and get your wailing out of the way... I need you chipper for when Spears turns me down.”
“Nyx, you are a terrible friend.”
He saw a thumbs up interpose itself between his face and the sky. “And yet I'm the one who's here when you are down on your luck.” The thumbs up became an extended hand.
Corvayne sighed and let Nyx help him up. “Maybe Wick can fix it.”
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Nyx beamed and patted him on the back. “That's the spirit! You got a bunch of tasks to do, and Hari can tell you what's actually going on.”
Corvayne saw from his vantage point Wick, Hari, and Undine climbing down the rope. Hari dropped with a splash into the pond, then gave Corvayne a look before helping Undine and Wick down. Odd, he got what she was trying to tell him. He started trekking back to the tent, stopping a moment and turning to Nyx. “Thanks Nyxion.”
“No problem. Us handsome, dashing types have to stick together.”
Well, at least someone was having fun. Corvayne steeled himself and started tromping to his remote campsite. Or at least he started to walk when he spotted what looked like a clump of horsemen bolting across the plains. Tracing their movement, they didn't seem to be headed for The Source nor his black tower. Scouts? Bandits? Adventurers? No, from here he could see they all wore similar colors and had matching armor in the same red that Bell favored. Soldiers.
They seemed to see him at the same time he saw them, and veered towards the camp. Corvayne took a deep breath and started running as well, moving to make sure if they were hostile they couldn't just run into camp.
No rest, no time to actually talk out what happened with Wick. He'd been frustrated before, but it after leaving the village it had been more remote, a distant set of problems that sometimes made him sad, but otherwise he could go through. Not this time, it felt like he just kept screwing up little things and big things and that his relationships were suffering because he didn't know what he was doing. A part of him was looking forward to a fight, something straightforward.
He guided himself through the stone pickets Varia had made and followed the stone spines to the ford the riders were moving towards. That they slowed was probably a good sign, if they were attacking they'd keep running. Granted, Corvayne alone could use [Shield Wall] with his spear and completely shut them out anyway, lest they try leaping the 10 foot tall stone barriers around camp.
Letting his boots just dip into the water, he saw the leader of the group dismount. The dust covered man stumbled a little and had to steady himself with his hand to stand back up. Corvayne could see a bandage with dried blood around one of his arms, and he had an empty sheath on one hip. Most of his gear looked professionally made, save for what looked like a spear he was carrying. No real pack, just a bundle of cloth he had tied around his neck.
“Hail Adventurer! By The Emperors light, I request your aid!”
Corvayne nodded and waved across the stream. “Well met soldier! What aid would that be?”
The man gestured at the nine horses behind him, then to the horizon. Corvayne followed his hand north, then looked back at the man who was panting. “We rode hard from Deraphi at the wall. The prince is dead, and wall has fallen to The Black Raven. Some of the army is falling back to sunder the Kelpin bridge...”
Corvayne couldn't help but sigh a little. “How far is trouble behind you?”
The man straightened. “If our boys make it to the bridge and destroy it? The Ravensmen will have to punch through Ebolt along the coast.”
“... If they don't or didn't?”
The man swallowed. “General guessed we'd had two days lead if the bridge is up and they sent riders after us. Maybe a little more. They have to finish punching a hole in the wall to get their horses through. Hopefully that will let the engineers do their thing.”
Corvayne did the math. “I'm guessing this is a straight shot between wherever you came from and the next target the army would hit?”
The weary man sighed and filled his canteen with stream water, then took a swing. “You got the right of it. You'd make a hell of a sergeant or map maker lad. If there's any soldiering left to do after The Raven comes through... and if you can bark or draw a mean sea-serpent.”
Corvayne looked back at the huge black spikes of crystal behind him. Of course, why would that dust spirit bother asking for more quests, when just one already pinned him to either defending this location, or waging war to take it back?
He turned back to the soldier. “What do you need from me?”
“Fresh horse to carry a message. Two if you can spare 'em and still move your wagon.” The man gestured at the truck.
Corvayne shook his head. “No animals you would want to ride in camp.” but then looked over at the horse, likely on the cusp of teetering over. “However, I might be able to send you on your way. I have a little goblin buddy whom I bet dabbles in veterinarian sciences.”
A look crossed the soldier's face, and the man took a half step back, putting his arms up. “No offense lad, but most goblins just eat horses.”
“The eating a horse thing is why I didn't suggest the human who could fix them.”
He left them waiting at the ford and called up to Reaper on his gunner's perch to ask where Mosh was. The goblin, as it turned out, was under the truck not five feet away from where he was standing. Mosh slid out on a wheeled cart, covered in what looked like oil but smelled like blood. The tool he was using looked like a giant crab cracker.
“Hey Boss! I gotta say, you don't look like you're about to tell me we're off to the all-Teifling hotsprings.”
“We got an imperial looking group of fellows outrunning what sounds like a major rout... Can you mend some horses while I try to squeeze some info out of them? Is June around?”
“Boss, hey, my little lady is-”
He held up a hand as the Tower-Folk came walking over quickly, holding her basket full of clothes. “June, small favor. Can you set that somewhere and heat up some leftover monster meat for the riders?”
June looked down at her basket. Reaper hopped down. “I'll handle it. Grunt's up there anyway keeping an eye on things.”
With a few tasks in motion, Corvayne went back to the riders, Mosh plodding along next to him, waving and calling out in perfect Nel'Ferralian, “Hey how ya doing? Nice to see you bud, nice armor. Heh, never see a goblin before?”
A few of the men looked worried, but the horses were perfectly placid as Mosh walked up and placed a hand on one.
“Lythandies see the little parts that are about to break, and make them whole again. Weave that which is hurt, let rest that which is tired. All beings are clay, molded by well meaning hands. Help us build something good: Life with health and joy. Repair that which is hurt, tired, and lost.”
Corvayne thought he saw something connect all ten riders and horses a moment, then there was a faint scent of sawdust and welded metal. A moment later the animals lifted their heads, and some of the men were looking at themselves.
“My finger came back!”
“Woah easy! Haha, she wants to run!”
Corvayne saw the veteran who spoke to him standing up straighter. “What the hells god was that? Most temples charge you the weight in gold of whatever they heal, and it takes em a whole day sometimes to handle half as many people.”
Corvayne responded as Mosh started trotting back up the hill. “Lythandies is the name of the goddess who helped you out. I got a hot meal coming in a few minutes if you take a moment to tell me what happened. No news out here.”
The head soldier, or at least the one who had been speaking with him, beamed at the offer. “Would have given my left jewel for that less than an hour ago. Not that it pulls us out of the shit. We manned the garrison up at the northern wall. Done so for about ten years, back when there was an actual king rather than a bandit one. Was up on the wall when The Emperor teleported in and fried the army and king with it. Lit up the whole wall like the sun. I guess the bandit king of the north wasn't going to take that chance. There were people on the inside, deep cover. Possibly folks who had been working for the old king and were waiting for the next offer to show up. Slayed the prince with a spell that the magic scrubbing we use missed. A little later they start rolling up catapults, and I get on a horse and hope we got the men to plug the gap south before the line breaks.”
Corvayne had a question. “You didn't see the wall fall, then?”
“It's a matter of time. The light blood doesn't run with more than a tenth of the imperial brats. Maybe one of those daughters is a hidden ace, but this might be it. Poor Prince Terueshi had been running ragged trying to teleport himself back and forth for every skirmish. Part of why I think it will take them two days, you never commit your forces into a light wall unless you can lose em.”
The man stopped talking and Corvayne followed his gaze to see Reaper and June holding a basket of steaming meat and bread. Turning back, the man had a tear in his eye.
“I take back everything I ever said rotten about adventurers! I was worried I'd die before I got one last good meal!”
Corvayne let them dig in while he looked north. Two days? Maybe a few more. Corvayne smiled. “Once you've had a few bites, tell me about this Raven character. Been out here a while, yet all I hear about is gripes about poor grazing and that their sons don't send enough coin back.”
The man had grabbed a drumstick from a Warp-Bird, and bit into it then licked grease off his fingers. While chewing he spoke. “Bandit king. Somehow has a million men with a trained core and a bunch of irregulars. Man's said to be a... 'Wizard without magic.'”
Corvayne raised an eyebrow at that. “Wizard but no magic?”
The soldier stuffed bread into his mouth and chewed for a good few seconds. “Say he can kill afar from snapping his fingers. Arrows can't find him, and even lesser men are cast aside where he walks. He flies too, but without a trace of magic. No glow, no spell craft. Our general said that he appeared out of nowhere maybe five or six years back, and has either an arch-fiends luck or can see everything all at once.”
“Does he have a Raven? Or is he just like one?”
“Hell if I know. From what I'm told he looks too pretty and his black clothes are too clean for a bandit. Teeth as white as your great grammies bones. His heads worth a hundred thousand gold, maybe more once his army starts carving up the northern Empire. And they will, no way Ebolt isn't getting cut off.”
With his meal finished and a second one stored in his sack, the man stepped back. “I'd shake your hand, but we have to keep riding. What's your name lad?”
“Corvayne.” He said as he gave the man a sharp salute.
“Eh, your folks like that too eh? I'm Pemprick, but they all call me old bones.”
Corvayne shook his head. “I hate all the nicknames I've gotten.”
“Rotten luck!” The man said as he pulled himself up into the saddle. June's basket was empty and most of the other soldiers were either mounting back up or already riding over to a gap that cut south.
Mosh, Reaper, and June watched them go. Mosh took a deep breath. “What did you learn, Boss?”
Corvayne thought about it. “I learned that I can put off dealing with my relationship problems if I go blow up a bridge.”