"The young mage has already made one. The man and I did not wish to. . .well, wish.  Unless we are required to do so?"

Zuriel continues to mumble.

[Private to DM, Cassie: Zuriel sighs at the mention of his father. "I tried to tell him that your spirit wasn't long for these worlds, in case he had anything he wanted to say to you, but I'm not sure he fully comprehended my meaning. Or willfully decided not to. You know him." Zuriel offers a weak smile. "He wanted me to tell you that he is glad you found a place for yourself, and that Aunt Anna misses you. He did indicate that he would be willing to exchange words with you, should you ever be in the neighborhood, but..." Zuriel gestures in the air. "He felt abandoned by you, and to a lesser extent Aunt Anna. I think the hurt goes deeper then I realized. And then when my mother..." Zuriel trails off, clearing the lump in his throat. "At any rate, I think, in his heart, he really does care for you. If he didn't, he wouldn't have taken it as hard as he did, or blamed you as irrationally as he did. If that makes any kind of sense." After a slight pause, Zuriel adds, "What...exactly happened? All those years ago? I never got the whole story. I didn't even know *you* were the Wildheart. I just thought you went off to the forest to live with the elves. Anytime I asked my father, he broke whatever he was holding. And Aunt Anna would get so sad I couldn't bear to continue questioning her."]
This message was last edited by the player at 01:30, Wed 08 Oct 2014.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 567):

Lyriel's eyes shine bright with tears at hearing her brother's voice, her own shakes with emotion as she begins talking with him.


[Private to DM: Oh Eldric it is you! I only wish I could see you. She smiles, a mixture of emotions settling over her. Happiness at hearing his voice again, sadness at knowing he is no longer physically there, and relief at the prospect of finding out what truly may have happened. I honestly am not sure where you are, but I do know it feels so good to hear your voice again. She hesitates, her voice thickening with emotion, you see it's been quite some time since we've spoken, but before we talk about that, tell me Eldric, what is the last thing you remember?]

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 569):

"No, no, wishing is entirely optional," the sprite says. "Just tracking who comes and goes and when and why and from where and all that."

He jots a few more notes down on his clipboard, then sets it aside.

"Joyce?"

The Basin flickers for a moment.

"Joyce, I wish for a salted caramel macchiato with a chocolate-hazelnut whipped topping. Large, of course."

The sprite flicks a coin into the pool, and moments later an enormous cup brimming with coffee and sugar materializes into his hands.

"Thanks," he says, doffing his hat to the pool. "Now then, where was I?"

He glances at the clipboard.

"Ah yes. If you could just tell me where you intend to pay the key forward, I'll make note of that and be on my way."

[Private to Lyriel Vesper: The voice continues, faint and disjointed but cognizant. "I remember... the sun, peaking over the horizon as it rose in the east. I was watching it in the early morning stillness while the others awakened in their own way. The kettle was on, and had just started to steam... I could hear it. Then I felt a sharp pain in my back. Turned and saw an ironclad fist... then darkness. Only darkness. I should have liked some tea... it isn't fair."]

[Private to Zuriel Silendril: "What didn't happen?" Wildheart says with a sigh. "You may or may not be surprised to learn that I, too, was once a member of the P.A.R.T.Y. Back when I went by the name of Agar, Baldwin enlisted my aid and the aid of others in researching a delicate situation that involved the rise of Darlien's death cult. History has born out how successful we were in preventing that."

His eyes fall, perhaps from shame.

"There were a handful of blackguards causing the problem, most notably Kyria. This is actually the second time I've died, you know -- Kyria slaughtered me and left me for dead, but my allies were able to revive me. That's when I knew I still had a role to play in the grand scheme of things, for how many do you know who have merited the gift of resurrection?"

"I was, in your father's opinion, unworthy of that gift. Especially when you consider how many far more worthy souls are not returned from the grave. So that was part of it. The other part is how I used that gift..."

"Back then, Baldwin often traveled with the P.A.R.T.Y. himself. Though we had failed to prevent the death cults from spreading, we did tip off the Empire to their existence and eventually killed Kyria, ending that threat once and for all. The fall of the death cults was seized upon by Saul as a means to evict the sitting tyrant from power: Morachiga Choso.

"So we found ourselves embroiled in another political intrigue, this one involving Drynn. Baldwin believed Choso's Dominion would be better for everyone than Saul's vision, and so we were personally involved the re-founding of Lo'driel with the tyrant-in-exile at its helm."

"You can imagine how well my brother took that."

"The other part, of course, was my obsession with the wild elves. It was embarrassing to the family, and it eventually got me killed. For good, it would seem. Edrahil blames himself for not doing more to alter my course. Had I stayed in Haedriel, I certainly would not have encountered Veilspire, and might still be alive today."

Wildheart chuckles.

"Are those enough reasons for you?"]

Lyriel looks out into the space before her, dazed.

[Private to DM: No...no it's not, Lyriel whispers. It isn't fair. You should have had your tea. And I should still have my brother. Eldric, that was over two years ago. They said you...they said you had died...fighting some cultists near Lo'driel. But they wouldn't let us even try to resurrect you. They would barely talk about it at all. It was all so strange. Lyriel trails off. After a few hearbeats, she continues, frightened that if she stopped talking, Eldric would fade away. Eldric...I miss you so much. Did your soul at least find it's way to the heavens?]

Hm... Boreas considers the question, unaware of the "paying forward" requirement.  I will leave the key with her, he says, gesturing at one of his Sylvan entourage, and she will protect it until the next worthy claimant comes along seeking it.

Whether an alligator is male or female can be deteermined by the temperature of the nest where the egg is hatched. Between 82 and 86 degrees will result in a female. 90 to 93 degrees will be male.

[Private to DM; Cassie: "Ah," Zuriel says simply. "Well, having met Choso personally, I would say that you likely made the correct judgement on that. It may also amuse you to note that my father has expressed willingness to cooperate with Choso against our mutual enemy of Saul. Or that after you left, my father would go on to fall in love with an Aeyrisbound angel and father a bastard son." Zuriel grins up at his uncle. "People change, sometimes for the better. The real reason for his animosity was that he felt abandoned by his family. I think if you were to speak with him again, you'd find him a very different person than he once was." Zuriel pauses a moment, collecting his thoughts. "I truly regret that I never had the opportunity to meet you in the flesh, Uncle. Regardless of what my father thinks, or is willing to say...as far as I'm concerned you've brought honor to our family by your deeds."]
This message was last edited by the player at 14:48, Wed 08 Oct 2014.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 572):

"Very good," the sprite says. "That's all I've got, then. You have a good day."

He flies laboriously away, sipping on his drink all the while.

[Private to Zuriel Silendril: "That is kind of you to say," Wildheart smiles. "I'm glad to hear my brother has become a... fuller person in his old age. I'm sure you helped him with that, whether you wanted to or not. Children, I hear, often have that effect on people."

"It is good to have met you, Zuriel. Stay true to your purpose... no matter what society says."]

[Private to Lyriel Vesper: "I... do not know," Eldric responds. "It's so dark... if I have, they are not as I expected." The voice continues to sound disjointed. "Cultists? We were marching... somewhere. Lo'driel? Left the road... Geoff got antsy... thought we were being followed or something. Night fell. Dawn came... then faded before the sun came up. Pity about the tea... so tired..."]

Lyriel shakes her head, confused.

[Private to DM: No, that isn't right, you shouldn't be...you should be in the heavens, with Tassada's faithful. You should be in paradise! This is wrong! Lyriel looks up at the pixie hovering over the water. What plane did you find him on? Where is he?! she asks frantically.]

There is enough iron in a non-malnourished adult body to create a blacksmith's nail.

[Private to DM; Cassie: Zuriel smiles at Agarwaen. "Don't worry Uncle, I will. I have plenty of practice ignoring society already. I imagine I'll get much more before this is all over." Zuriel considers what else he wants to ask of his uncle. He takes his sword from his sheath, and proffers it up to the spirit. Light catches on the maple leaf guilding along the blade. "It would seem that I bear your sword now. It was given to me by an orb in the forest, though I didn't know it was yours at the time. I suppose the forest spirit must have recognized our blood relation. Anyhow, with your blessing, I will continue to wield it with pride."]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 576):

One of the Sylvan clears her throat and turns to Boreas.

"Should we not make a wish for the Sylvan race, m'lord? That we might once more reach our full might, or live in safety, or some similar gesture of goodwill? This seems to be an opportunity I'd be loathe to waste."

[Private to Lyriel Vesper: "I don't know," the faerie says apologetically. "I just facilitate the magic; I didn't direct the search myself." ]

[Private to Zuriel Silendril: "Of course. It served me well, except for the part where I died. May it serve you even better."]

Boreas nods.  A wise suggestion.  He turns toward the pool and the fellow tending to it.  I would like to make a wish as well.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 578):

The pool flickers to life once more, and the faerie materializes.

"The Basin of Wishes is proud to offer each guest their fondest wish. What is it you would have of us?"

I wish for the denizens* of Fey'driel to live in peace, harmony, and equality with one another, from now until the end of time.

*Including, but not limited to, faeries, pixies, sylphs, brownies, elves, eladrin, Sylvans, treefolk, centaurs, and other sentient beings.  Some terms and conditions may apply.  Void where prohibited.  Participating retailers only.  Includes tax, tags, titles, and $199 administration fee.

A rat can last longer without water than a camel can.

[Private to Cassie; DM: Zuriel nods. "If there is any message you would like me to pass along, to my father or Aunt Anna...I would be happy to. Other than that, there was one other matter." Zuriel tilts his head toward Cassie. "The ex-acolyte of Veilspire has broken free of her shackles. We're looking for a way to redeem her, to restore her connection to the true natural order. We thought you might have some wisdom to guide her on that path."]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 581):

Keef, lost in thought, begins looking for both a rat and a camel.

Maeve shrugs good-naturedly and steps forward to the fountain once Boreas is finished.  She removes a coin from her belt and flips it into the fountain as Beedle did.

"I wish for a decent pair of winter gloves," she says proudly.  At her companions' bemused expressions she adds "What?  It's winter back home.  And I did give my last pair to Zuriel.  Not to mention the damn guisarme gets more than a bit chilly to handle when it ices over. . . ."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:05, Wed 08 Oct 2014.

Lyriel jerks her attention elsewhere in her vision. Tears are openly streaming down her face now.

[Private to DM: Lyriel turns back to the apparition of her brother. Eldric, I promise I'll help you, she chokes out in a sob. You deserve...so much better. You deserved a future. But if Fate won't give you that...]

The priestess stands up, eyes distant, but the determined fire in them is unmistakeable.

[Private to DM: You did not get justice in life, but you can be damn sure you'll receive it in death. I will find who did this to you, Eldric. I will bring them to justice. And I will find your spirit, and do whatever it takes to make sure you get home. This I swear to you.]

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 584):

The pool flickers, and the faerie rematerializes in a flash of glitter.

"Now THAT is a wish," she says, no longer spectral in the least. "What would you offer in return for such a thing, traveler? What possible price could cover it?"

While Boreas muses the question, she turns to Maeve and points her finger at her like a crossbow. A bolt of glittering dust zips over to her hands, surrounding them. In no time, she is wearing the warmest, most flexible gloves she has ever owned -- and they match her Gaelian uniform perfectly.

[Private to Maeve Hassan: +5 Cold Resistance]

[Private to Lyriel Vesper: "Yes... yes, with sugar, please. And milk, if you have it..."

The vision fades, and Eldric is gone.

"I'm sorry," the faerie says. "We seem to have lost our connection. Would you like to try again?"]

[Private to Zuriel Silendril: "A follower of Veilspire?" Wildheart says, narrowing his eyes. "Reformed? You must atone. It is a long and arduous process, but the wildkin know how it's done. You must prove to Le'lothriel that you are not an abomination."

Cassie nods.

"I'm not. I'll do my best, sir."]
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:00, Wed 08 Oct 2014.

Lyriel shakes her head, snapping back to reality. No. I've learned what I need to from him. I do Wish to know where his spirit was found, however. He's clearly lost. Lyriel narrows her still-teary eyes. I'm going to fix this. My brother deserves better.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 586):

The faerie turns to Lyriel sadly.

"I'm afraid I am only allowed to grant a single wish per visitor."

Maeve has only a moment or so to admire her new handwear before Lyriel emerges from her trance.

"Lyriel!" she says, hastening to the distraught priestess while Boreas ponders whether to pay with his soul, firstborn child, etc. "What happened?"

I would offer my services, in carrying out the wish.  Once my current quest is done, I will return here for half of each year to lead the Sylvan people and help the nations live in harmony.

Boreas looks over to Maeve.  Nice gloves.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:14, Wed 08 Oct 2014.

A female ferret will die if it goes into heat but does not find a mate.

[Private to Cassie; DM: Zuriel looks up sharply as he hears Cassie's voice, not having been aware that she was privy to the conversation. "She is *not* an abomination, Uncle," Zuriel says firmly. "She's a good person," he adds in a softer voice, "and as deserving as any I've ever met of a second chance." He looks down, staring down at the surface of the lake for a while. When he speaks again, it is with difficulty. "I suppose this is goodbye then, Uncle. I wish there was more I could do. Is there anything you would ask of me, before I go?"]
This message was last edited by the player at 01:15, Thu 09 Oct 2014.

Lyriel spins towards the pixie. One wish? That's!... the priestess bites off what she was going to say next, taking a measured breath. Very well. Zuriel, is that something we could...oh for Tassada's sake! Lyriel lets out a frustrated expletive as she sees Zuriel still entranced.

Stymied, Lyriel wraps her arms around herself, visibly shaking, though it's not clear if it's from sobbing, anger, or something else. A faint nimbus of emerald light shines around her form, and amethyst energy crackles from her in soft pops of static.

My brother was...literally stabbed in the back, she says in a strained voice. He was waking up and just getting the morning tea ready, and then he felt a sharp pain in his back. And then blackness. But for some reason, his soul didn't find its way to his resting place. He's drifting, lost and confused...

He just wanted his tea. He kept asking for his morning tea... Lyriel bursts into quaking sobs. That's...all he...wanted...was a cup of tea...

After a moment of sobbing, Lyriel manages to regain some semblance of control. She wipes the tears from her eyes.

I am going to find whoever was responsible for his death. And I am going to bring them to justice.

And not Zuriel's justice either. Something much more final.

The crackling around Lyriel intensifies into whirls and eddies, and a hissing sound is faintly audible.

And then I'm going to find the spirit of my brother, and take him back to the heavens. She takes a shuddering breath. Or someplace he can get a gods-dammed cup of tea.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:49, Thu 09 Oct 2014.