CHAPTER 11
OSA Spire, Nine Hells
Mid January
Knight-Captain Edrahil and Lieutenant Faye watch quietly as the P.A.R.T.Y. dissolves in a sea of magical mist and emerald-green streamers. The world stands still for a moment, until Faye gently clears her throat.
"Permission to speak freely, sir?"
"
Of course," the knight-captain says. "
What's on your mind?"
"Are we really interested in working with... Lo'driel agents? I know he's your son and all, but they seem allied with the Glass Tyrant."
"
I don't know, Faye," Edrahil says, letting out a soft sigh. "
It's more complicated than you realize."
"I'm just saying, sir," the lieutenant presses. "This bard is friends with Choso. He helped bring him to power in the first place. What if... what if he's been playing us this whole time?"
"
Then we will destroy him," Edrahil says firmly. "
But until we have solid information regarding his allegiance, we must not judge, lest we become as blind as the Grand Marshall."
"But we could end up marching on the allied side of Lo'driel's banner, sir. If I understand the P.A.R.T.Y.'s plan correctly, that is."
"
And if that course of action is just, what of it?"
If Lt. Faye has a response in mind, she keeps it to herself. Instead, she wraps an arm around the knight-captain's waist as they stand side by side in the newly captured spire.
"... it's a brave new world, isn't it, sir?"
"
Not yet," Edrahil says, putting an arm around her shoulder far more casually than is proper for a commanding officer. Faye does nothing to object, instead betraying a soft smile. "
But, Goddess willing, it will be."
Fey'driel
The P.A.R.T.Y. materializes beneath a solitary tree that rests atop a tall forested hill. Signs of life are everywhere, from birds and insects to woodland creatures scampering all around. A large, lush forest expands in all directions beneath the hill, while off to the west a brook burbles happily.
The sky is a perfect shade of Carolina blue, dotted with a handful of fluffy clouds that float about like heaps of cotton candy. If you strain your ears, you can almost hear the first faint notes of The William Tell Overture playing over the sun-soaked paradise. (
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_RM7cQCC4sU).
Boreas's emerald eye glitters with an inner fire the likes of which you've never seen, a pupil of orange visible amid the faceted surface.
[
Private to Boreas Highwind: An airy voice whispers into the corners of your mind. "At long last. Have you come to free me from my torment?"]
Lyriel looks troubled, though nothing obvious appears to be the matter.
[
Private to Lyriel Vesper: Your attempt to transport the P.A.R.T.Y. to Aeryis was redirected by a forceful shove from... somewhere beyond. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Sorry.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:01, Mon 04 Aug 2014.