Aran frowns as the situation is explained, and when Leonia offers up her theory he shakes his head in protest.

"No, we should look directly into the source of what's going on here. Sure, a temporary fix might be buy us some time but without knowing what's going on the problem could get worse and make whatever patch we come up with worthless. We need to figure out why this happened."

Not knowing what to say in response to the... revelations about relationships between group members or having much to add to the reunion, Artrus simply finds himself a corner to sit in and sharpen his sword, shield leaning against the wall next to him.  As he sharpens the bastard sword in his lap with care, other people who care to look can see that it seems to be a family blade, bearing markings on the hilt and scabbard.  This seems a little out of place for someone who is supposedly a simple mercenary as Artrus presents himself to be.

Artrus simply listens as the group's magic users try to puzzle out whatever this strange thing was that had happened with their magic.  While Artrus was no fool, he also knew better than to try and puzzle out matters about which he had little to no understanding.  The workings of weapons, armor, and physical combat was the realm that he knew... not the arcane matters of the mind and spirit.

He did still catalog what these discussions meant from a tactical standpoint, but it did not seem to be anything he didn't already know.  Spells were a finite resource, no matter how weak they were, the thought that it could have been different somehow frightened him.  Better to rely on sword and shield which would not give out until his very muscles did.

Feeling stupefied, Kamea follows the conversation as it weaves and bobs around the events in the marsh. The descriptions of what happened don't make sense, but trauma can do that to someone's mind. That even the elderly mage can't figure out why her sister's magic is damaged is frightening.

The discussion of butterflies give her an idea. "What if it's a flea?" Kamea posits, trying to tread water in the adults' conversation. Some sort of leech or thing of the swamp that is eating your magic? If I had something chewing on my head, even as a metaphor, that's a good reason to not remember yesterday." A shot in the dark, but it's the best she has.

"Maybe rest a while, see if it goes away?"

Artrus finally stops carefully sharpening and inspecting his blade to speak up, "Don't think the Lord Marshal will care for any delays that he considers unnecessary.  While I don't claim to know his mind, it wouldn't surprise me to learn that such concerns as the magics of a 'pet' not functioning correctly fall under that heading."  As he says the word 'pet' Artrus grimaces as though he finds the use of the word distasteful.

Spitting on his whetstone and rubbing it into the stone absentmindedly, he continues, "In fact, I daresay that if we are not hastening on our way before mid-day we may well find a courier... or worse... seeking us out to learn why we delay.  Mayhaps rest will solve this mystery for you lot, maybe it won't... but I have already had the... privilege of seeing the Lord Marshal's anger once.  I have no desire to be targeted by it.  Worst comes to worst, you can trust in my sword and shield to protect you should your magics fail."

"That may be all well and good, but we practitioners of the arcane arts require rest before we can go out to solve problems anew. I for one need sleep to recover my magic energies, and we've not yet had time for that. So, who exactly do we have to find, and why?" asks the elf.

Zhorr raises his hands conciliatorily. "Alright, alright... The good Lord Marshall will have to learn patience. Or pretend to, anyway. We are going to need several days before we even begin to understand exactly what happened and how to fix it, and given the circumstances I am not confident in sending Akane out without knowing exactly what is wrong. Naranjer wants results more than he wants undue haste, I'm sure."

After a moment to collect his thoughts, he continues: "I agree with Aran that we need to get a better handle on what is going on, and Leonia is correct that we should try to see if there is a way to work around the problem while we work on a solution. As far Naranjer's mission goes, he wanted me to catch an outlaw by the name of Terk s'Haksredm who has been spotted near the mountain village of Cold Waters. You may have heard the name, its water sources are said to have minor alchemical properties."

He looks around, but the name doesn't seem to ring a bell. "Regardless, I explained to him that my duties don't allow me to leave Carp, and I would send a reliable troubleshooter to deal with the issue. However, I don't think our man was looking for a skin treatment in Cold Waters. Since Naranjer gave us such a limited amount of information, we can easily justify spending a couple of weeks to prepare. I will send a couple of messengers to get a better idea of what exactly you will be facing. In the mean time, I will try to find out if there is something that can be done to improve your condition."

Finally, he clears his throat with what looks like mild embarrassment, and says: "On a completely unrelated note... Have you considered possibly taking up residence in Carp on the Wall?"

Senses flare at the mention of a Lord Marshal. Having the military mixed up in this is no good at all. What have Akane and her friends gotten into?

Friends might be a strong term, however. A hired goon, Kamea eyes the swordarm. Or worse, a zealot. Whatever he is, he's too eager by half and overconfident to boot. Kamea knows better than to pick a fight with some military man, but he could at least see reason. She directs a statement at Artrus.

"Zhorr's right. Combat prowess means nothing if you're going in blind. You lot aren't going to wander into Cold Waters and throw a bag over his head. How many people does he have? Do you know what he looks like?  You're keen on bringing this guy back, but what if you nab one of his buddies instead? Present some oaf to your master instead?" Kamea shrugs as if she doesn't care.

The small woman turns her attention back to Zhorr. "I don't tend to stay in one place long. What're you offering, exactly?"

Zhorr considers Kamea's question for a second: "Well, it depends on what you prefer, really. What is it that you want to do? Learn new things? Make the world a better place? Be part of a nice community? Protect the innocent? Or perhaps the old universal motivator... Have lots and lots of money?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:17, Sun 05 Aug 2018.

In response to Kamea's question Artrus huff and says, "Lord Marshal wants us to find some jackass by name of Terk Hakred or some such.  Guess he's causing some issues for shipping around these parts.  As far as learning more about who he is, I'm not really one for learning stuff through careful study or anything.  I'm much more the type to barge in and bully my way through... scare the piss out of someone bad enough and they'll usually fess up to whatever you need to know."  As he speaks, Artrus keeps a smirk on his face as though he's enjoying a private joke to himself.

He continues to smirk at Zhorr's question he knows none of these people would ever suspect what he hoped to gain from this mission, and he didn't feel much inkling to share it.  As far as they were concerned he was the Lord Marshal's hound dog and he was content to let them continue to think as much.  Their opinion didn't matter so much to him as did the ability to restore some semblance of his father's honor.

Kamea tweaks her mouth at Zhorr's sudden interest in maintaining her. It's far more direct than what she would expect from an elder mage. To be honest, Kamea feels odd at how leading the question and its suggestions are. Summoning calm, Kamea clears her throat. "Living in comfort is more my goal, with all things that entails. A lot of things in this world can ruin your life, and I just hope to avoid as many of such things as I can."

Vague, sure. But Kamea wasn't about to be overly honest and forthcoming with so many strangers. Any one of them could use her words against her. Flowers don't open up at night.

Zhorr nods: "Well, well, well. then maybe we can help each other out. The Lord Marshall was mainly here to relay the news that the Count, in recognition of services rendered, has decided to award me the rank of Baron. You may have noticed that I said recognition, not reward. As in, you've done this, so now we expect you to keep doing it: here's the legal basis you need, now go and bring us some money."

A quick word of power and a grandstanding gesture later, Zhorr starts putting together what looks like a crude model of Carp on the Wall. "Let me explain... You may have noticed a number of things about Carp. Such as the fact that it isn't protected by as much as a palisade."

A ribbon of glittering light blue paper to represent the river, a few squat boxes for the houses, rectangles of green and yellow paper to represent the fields. "This is not a mistake. By law, fortifications are only allowed under the personal responsibility of a noble family. Of which Carp had none."

A makeshift "hill", and on top of it a somewhat more faithful representation of Zhorr's home: "The manor itself is no castle: despite some... Decorative elements... That might possibly bear some resemblance to, say, arrow slits, or machicolations, purely concidental, I assure you... At the end of the day the lack of crenellations and outer walls means its resistance to an attack is essentially that of a well-built house."

He looks over at Lia and amends: "A well-built house inhabited by two highly experienced spellcasters, granted, but still, not really a fortified castle. Again, not a mistake: it is illegal for a common citizen to build crenellations and similar fortifications into their houses."

Zhorr then starts modifying the makeshift diorama: a palisade around Carp, the bridge turned into a drawbridge, a wall around the manor, and proper fortifications all around. "A proper Baron's demesne should look more like this: a Baron collects the local taxes for his liege, defends his demesne from attacks, and ensures growth and prosperity. At least in theory. You are the one making sure that the farmers pay their taxes, and yet your liege always complains that they aren't enough, so it's very much a thankless job. It's also the best way to protect the people in Carp from the likes of Grand Marshall Naranjer. No offense, m'sir Genald."

"However, this isn't a job a single man can do. Not even with the help of his beautiful and amazingly skilled half-elf companion." Smiles Lia.

Zhorr nods,and then concludes: "Carp is a growing community, and this appointment is exactly what I needed to ensure that there will be plenty of potential wealth to go around. All it takes is the right people. And completing this assignment from the Count so that the appointment is confirmed."
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:06, Sat 11 Aug 2018.

In reply to Artrus Genald (msg # 25):

An elven woman looks puzzled, then says "your accent makes it sound like we are pursuing an individual named Terk Red Herring? Sounds a bit fi--, no, I won't finish that awful pun. Are you sure of the name?"

Akane frowns slightly: "Naranker actually called him Terk 's Haksred, which would make him 'Terk of the Great Herring'... Or possibly 'Terk of the Red Herring'. Initially I thought it was a mangling of Great Mountain or Great River... But Great House Red Herring was a famous dynasty of gnome illusionists. The problem is, Haksred is an orcish word. Why would an orc - well, half-orc - name himself after a gnome family?"

Aran shrugs at the whole back and forth about that quarry. "This is way outside of my err... area of expertise. I'm not a tracker and I don't know about Orcs or anything like that. So... while you guys are trying to figure all that stuff out, what do you want me to do? I guess I could ask the locals if they know anything about this."

Zhorr ponders it for a moment: "Well, we need to research several different things... His history, his motives, the town of Cold Water itself... But his name might be a clue in itself. Using sources in the original language would be much easier, but that would mean looking for them library in a major city, and I am a little wary of sending you to a major devil city. The badge Naranker gave Akane, and the presence of Artrus, should help, but..."

"Unless there is a gnomes village nearby to consult?" Leonia asks.

Zhorr blinks, then facepalms. "How did I not think about it? Naranjer even mentioned them. Brastlewerk! It isn't a metropolis by any stretch of the imagination, and it's still a devil city, but it's also a county capital, which means it should have at least one large library, and it is home to a large Gnome community, which should help with the Red Herring dynasty research. Plus, the Count is the one who is sending us on this particular merry chase, so presumably the guards wouldn't harass you. And now that I put all of this together. this seems one rather large set of coincidences."
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:53, Tue 14 Aug 2018.

"Can't say I recall having much dealings with Gnomes in the past" says the blue warrior, scratching the back of his neck as if trying to [still] work out the strangeness of remembering things no one else does in *this* lifetime.

Shuddering slightly at the thought of needing to consult gnomes on their family histories, Artrus says to Dakash, "Be happy you haven't.  Gnomes can be a prickly lot sometimes, and if we're going to be investigating gnomish family lines... we're liable to be in for several very LONG stories..."

Looking at the others he says, "Look, I'm not much of a linguist, but surely the name isn't actually correct here... we'd be better off looking to see if there are any common threads between any of the attacks he's made.  Is he an opportunist or does he plan detailed raids with specific targets.  If the latter, how does he choose those targets.  That sort of thing.  As the Lord Marshal said, who gives a pile a dung about what his name is when our job is to eliminate the threat?"

Raising her hand just above her head, Kamea pipes up. "I'd be willing to talk to gnomes for you." She shimmies in the pew to be taller, trying to be seen over the plants scattered around the atrium. Of the others seated, those who aren't soldiers look close enough to be mages. Kamea might be the only civilian present.

"I can't twist a knife, but I could sure steer a few conversations if it means getting Akane and the rest of you a leg up. That is, if you want me."

"Have you considered that it might be a gnome illusionist who has put on a seeming? He looks like a half-orc, possibly through use of alteration as well, but is in fact a gnome? That would explain the name and the reports of his appearance. By all means, I would speak with the gnomes as well. Such an opportunity to peruse other cultures' point-of-view on magic..." Leonia says.

"As I age through this incarnation, language will become less of a barrier to me and my interactions with others. I have already regained the knowledge of several dialects that I hope will become useful in one way or another." Dakash seemed content that, for the moment at least, he was being helpful.

---

Zhorr spent the rest of the day examining the spellcasters whose abilities had been impaired, as well as their ioun stones.

From what he could tell, the new memories were real, not a fabrication. What exactly that meant was anybody's guess, but clearly it involved alternate realities. Always a comfort, that.

The inability to use cantrips and orisons to their full extent appeared to be a drain on their ambient mana pool. The way he discussed it with them - mainly Leonia, given that she was the one most interested in arcane theory - cantrips could be reused because the magic surge following any type of spellcasting caused a local spike in ambient mana - which was barely enough to replenish the energy spent to cast a cantrip. Not all spellcasters had the ability to absorb those spikes, but wizards and sorcerers definitely did; in the case of Aran and Leonia, something was apparently draining that energy from them before they could use it to regenerate their cantrips. Dakash was similarly affected - which was an interesting bit of information that would probably advance magical theory at some point, given that he wasn't an arcane caster, but remained a darn nuisance in the short term.

The ioun stones had been similarly affected, and would have to be repaired. Worse, all ioun stones placed in the care of the three casters, while not permanently affected, still couldn't refresh their powers until the net day or so.

Fortunately, additional experimentation revealed that a wayfinder, a kind of magical compass with the ability to house ioun stones, protected them from the drain.

Zhorr promised the three spellcasters to have a wayfinder made for each of them, though it would take a few days.

He encouraged everybody to talk to the people in Carp, and off-handedly commented that this was a particularly good moment to invest in real estate in Carp, if one felt so inclined.

---

A couple of days later, Zhorr invited Leonia to his library, and gave her some more information about Magi.

Magi were rather unique arcane spellcasters, in that, onve they reached a certain amount of knowledge, they acquired an ability extremely reminiscent of the unique clerical boon that allowed divine spellcasters to prepare any spell their deity allowed them, without books or foreknowledge.

Specifically, a Magus of sufficient experience could, given a certain amount of effort, prepare a spell that was not alreaty in their book. Having so prepared a spell they had only vaguely heard about, if that, they could then write it into their spellbook, thus acquiring a new spell - for the price of some magical ink and a bit of patience.

He may or may not have sported a cat-got-the-cream expression while explaining that. Leonia, for her part, now understood why he was so liberal in sharing his magical knowledge.

Then he showed his spellbook, specifically the last few pages, which were taken by an entirely new spell. And by "entirely new", he explained, he meant that the spell literally hadn't existed until a few days earlier. Around the time they had lost their ability to use cantrips.

The spell looked like a much weaker version of the famous wish spell; considering that the wish line was probably the most well-researched piece of magic in the world, and the spells that were part of it had remained unchanged for centuries, the idea that a new spell of that line could simply appear from one day seemed rather improbable.

And yet there they were.

Alternate realities and all.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:38, Wed 29 Aug 2018.

Leonia asks "since this new spell in the Wish line has pulled mana from the world in order to manifest, could it be the cause of cantrips no longer being recharged? You know, if we can figure out How a Wayfinder blocks the drain, perhaps similar elements can be added to clothing."

Zhorr shakes his head: "The wayfinder is separating you from the stone: the stone works its magic and recharges, while whatever is affecting your cantrips tries to drain the wayfinder. If we did the same to your clothes, it would just separate you from the environment. I don't know if it would stop the drain, but it would certainly stop the ambient mana, which would defeat the entire purpose. As for this new wish spell draining your ambient mana pool... It doesn't make a lot of sense, but I still don't think it's a coincidence. I suspect they are both effects of the same cause... But bless me if I know what that cause is."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:31, Wed 29 Aug 2018.

Leonia shrugs. "I suppose a query to the Deity that guards Magic might yield an answer, but those are few and far between. Perhaps we can figure it out on our own through experimentation and monitoring."

Several days go by while everybody busy themselves with a number of tasks, waiting for messengers birds to bring back some information.

At Zhorr's suggestion, Leonia invests most of her money and a lot of hard labor in helping Evelyss with her magical herbs. Some clever and productive bartering later, and Zhorr has acquired the base components to make some interesting magic items for Leonia.

Lia offers her services to make potions, and they suggest everybody to talk to Elda in case they need a good armor. Only armor, alas, as crafting magic weapons is beyond her skill. However, crafting normal weapons is not, and she has a decent stock of all the common ones.

A couple of weeks go by, and finally Zhorr has some information to share with the group.

Apparently, this Red fellow has a particular dislike of official envoys, and tends to attack tax collectors and caravans, and even the occasional convoy carrying military salaries.

Considering the kind of escort these convoys generally have, this outlaw's band might be more dangarous than initially anticipated.