CHAPTER 09
Mt. Salt, Drynn
Late December

The sky was a lovely shade of blue, but then again, so was the ground. In fact, there was nothing but blue as far as the eye could see, coupled with the rushing sensation akin to wind blowing from all directions at once.

All of a sudden, the buffeting sensation came to an end, and the omnipresent blue transformed into the drab grays, greens, and browns of Drynn.

As the world snaps back into focus, Boreas, Maeve, Keef, Lyriel, A'tril, and Mah'mout find themselves standing outside amid the rocky soil of Mt. Salt. The skeletal frame of a tower looms in the distance, perhaps a mile to the south, and the clamor of construction can be plainly heard upon the wind.

A'tril releases his grip on the hands of his neighbors and wipes the back of his hand across his brow.

"It worked," he breathes with relief... but only for a moment. He scans the group gathered before him and furrows his brow with confusion. "Where are the others?"

[Crossroads]

In reply to DM (msg # 1):

"Lost," Mah'mout says simply, giving Lyriel's hand a squeeze before releasing his grip. "The planes claimed the tall one and the tattooed one while we traveled through them. It was that brief, brilliant flash of off-blue and cyan amid the sky blue swirling around us a few seconds ago. How could you have missed it?"

Unperturbed, the vivimancer extends his arms and twirls in the morning breeze, a huge smile plastered across his features.

"It's so good to be free," he says, orange fire dancing in his eyes. "I'll take care of whatever job you've got in mind as a token of my thanks. Within reason, of course."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:57, Thu 10 Apr 2014.

Boreas re-orients himself to his new surroundings.  We'll need to do what we can to find Al and Ted.  Let's tie things up here, then see what we can do.  I'd be interested to hear more about what your job entails too, Mah'mout.

Lyriel shakes her head in confusion. No. No, he was right there. He can't be far behind. I'm sure he'll be along presently. He has to be... Her eyes dart around frantically, as if any moment Zuriel will pop back into existence if she looks at enough likely spaces for him to appear. Lyriel struggles in vain to suppress the rising tide of panic welling within her.

He can't be...he'll be here. He has to... Her hands begin to tremble and she clasps them together to keep herself from shaking uncontrollably.

"I saw the colors as well; I wasn't sure what they meant until now."

Maeve goes to put an arm around Lyriel's shoulders--the highborn cleric looks stricken and paler than usual.

"But why them?  Where did they go?  And most importantly, how do we get them back?"

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 5):

Al?.... Ted?....

In reply to Keef (msg # 6):

A'tril looks at the P.A.R.T.Y. for a moment, then shrugs.

"If they're lost, they're lost. I can't help them -- at least, not from here. I suggest we return to Ptolemy and work out a plan from there. That's who I got these amulets from, anyway. Maybe something interfered with them."

The dark elf starts heading toward the skeletal tower to the south, and Mah'mout falls into place behind him.

In reply to DM (msg # 7):

Keef gives both A'tril and Mah'mout a wide berth.

We... we DO need to find them...

A sharp, bitter taste fills Lyriel's mouth as Zuriel fails to materialize. No...he'll be here. We can't leave yet. We *can't*

The cleric's breathing becomes rapid and panicked, and her eyes dart around even more rapidly. She thinks back to what transpired, trying to make sense of it. What could have happened? I saw...somewhere else. It was beautiful but...it was gone.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:38, Thu 10 Apr 2014.

Maeve feels Lyriel's shoulders begin to tremble uncontrollably under her arm.  Her breathing becomes shallow and rapid and her green eyes dart in various directions.  She puts Maeve in mind of a panicked horse.

"I'm really sorry about this," she says before pulling back her arm and slapping Lyriel across the face--forcefully enough to snap her out of her daze but not hard enough to do any real damage.  Lyriel's eyes flare with indignation.

"Good, you're angry.  That's what I was going for.  You were on the verge of passing out, but now you're back with us." Maeve's words are crisp and businesslike but her eyes convey her sympathy.

"We *will* get him back.  He's probably talking so much to the residents of wherever he wound up that they'll save us the trouble and send him back themselves!"

"Now, let's see what Ptolemy has to say about this."

Lyriel grits her teeth, but takes a calming breath. She manages a choked laugh at Maeve's jest.

Right. Think. Zuriel was wearing his pendent at the time, which we know is a plane shifter. Is it possible there was some interference? But that doesn't explain Sazed vanishing too...

Lyriel takes a deep, shuddering breath. So. Ptolemy. Let's figure this out.

She follows her companions back to Mt. Salt, in control of her panic, but still subject to the deep gnawing worry in her stomach.

Oh Zuriel...what have you gotten yourself into this time?
This message was last edited by the player at 17:42, Thu 10 Apr 2014.

Boreas says nothing, finding Maeve's words sufficient for the situation.  He walks toward Mt. Salt with the others.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 12):

The group returns to the construction site without difficulty, and is soon standing in Ptolemy's tent.

A lithe maiden of 16 summers stands in Ptolemy's tent, pouring over the blueprints. She smiles and brushes her blonde bangs out of her eyes when the P.A.R.T.Y. enters.

"You're back ahead of schedule," she says, nodding at A'tril with satisfaction. "Very well done... though it seems you sustained loses along the way."

Her smile fades, and her voice becomes more comforting.

"I promise their sacrifice will be worth it."

They aren't dead, Lyriel says stubbornly. A flash of anger washes of her features before she gets herself back under control. Your runic necklaces didn't work as expected. When we teleported, they either diverted, or were left behind.

Lyriel narrows her eyes at the (woman?). Any idea why that might be?

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 14):

"My necklaces work perfectly," Ptolemy says, taken aback by Lyriel's hostility. "75% of you made it back just fine. If your friends were diverted, as you claim, it could only be because they distorted the magic in some way. Were they riftwalkers before you met them? It's possible they neglected to take the necessary precaution of removing their normal method of jumping from place to place, which caused the ritual to activate the necklace AND their other method at the same time."

She purses her lips.

"That probably wouldn't kill them, true, but it would likely shunt them to another plane at random. Many are less than hospitable to our delicate constitutions."

She brightens.

"But! The good news is that anything that could have shunted them elsewhere should have the power to travel away from wherever they are, as well. So they can return on their own power, most likely, and you have nothing to worry about."

That's... Lyriel struggles to organize her disjointed emotions, while simultaneously devising a response that didn't give away too much information. ...as good an explanation as any, I suppose. She sighs, somewhat relieved at Ptolemy's words despite herself.

A feeling of complete exhaustion from the day's excitement threatens to overwhelm her. She nods to Ptolemy. I...apologize. Today has been rather eventful. I hope it is as you say.

Remembering the role she is supposed to be playing, she quickly adds Good bodyguards are hard to come by. I should hate to have to replace Al and Ted.

Gods....please come home soon, Zuriel.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:18, Thu 10 Apr 2014.