Martine smiled with satisfaction as the electric flows meshed from the three prongs of the transport base, and the portal flared into being. This was the final one. Twelve in all, his personal invitations to the Isparians to come visit Marae Lassel. And the Virindi thought themselves safe there? The fun would soon begin.
And that was only one front of his crusade against the alien beings. How easy it was to magnify Ecorto’s desire for order into something more radical. And now the Director stood there in Zaikhal, sending hordes of Isparians nipping at the heels of his former tormentors. They would know pain and fear. They would come to know it well.
But Martine wondered whether he was winning the battle at the expense of the war. He trembled with anger as he thought of that meddling witch, Nuhmudira. Housing, of all things! She and her Agents of the Arcanum would need to be dealt with. But Dereth had taught Martine to be flexible, to be patient. Good things were coming. Let the humans play with their new toys, their masks and their elixirs. Let them acquire their “Writs” and think themselves safe and secure in their new homes.
The mouse is never easier to catch than when stuffed with cheese.
The thing once known as Candeth Martine raised his hands and teleported himself back to his stronghold on Marae. After all, he had visitors to prepare for.
The fires have been stoked across Dereth to ward off the coming of the harvest season’s chill. Brave souls press even further against the Virindi tide in an effort to stave their advances and finally bring the cloaked beings to heel. All the while the Children of Ispar once again are set for revelry in this their time of harvest, celebrating the end of another year here on Dereth.
In Zaikhal a defector from the renegade Virindi band has come with a mission for those adventurers with steely nerves who are willing to trust him. His tales lend credence to the rumblings that the Virindi have begun to establish a New Singularity, here on Dereth. He warns that if they are not successful that the renegades will win and bring this Singularity here, washing away life as they have come to know it. He provides them with a chisel and imparts knowledge of the storage facilities that contain the renegade’s materials. Armed with this new understanding, warriors heed this latest call and strike deep in the heart of the Virindi onslaught, hoping to make this the final blow. The Isparians will prevail at all costs.
Alchemists, cooks, and mages, having deciphered old riddles and found new delights, have opened their shops to all and happily display the new wares that they have to offer. Alchemists have enhanced their already potent tonics that restore Mana and close grievous wounds. Cooks display and sell new candied items. Those with a penchant for sweets have been made to smile once more. Mages have fortified the stones that can be used to store Mana so that they break less often and have also, with the help of tailors, rewoven the magical aspect of apprentice’s robes to be wholly beneficial to their wearer.
After seeing the success of the Zaikhal Arcanum in forging houses befitting Dereth’s defenders, Queen Strathelar has commissioned a refurbishment of the pyreal to have a brighter appeal to the masses. New shops selling furniture and other wares have opened, their patrons stand ready to collect the new pyreal in exchange for the goods and services.
In towns all across Dereth inhabitants display festival masks in a show of strength in the face of adversity. The Virindi war seems to be winding to an end and the Isparians are rejoicing.
Yet new portals have opened. Something about these differs from the portals once forged through the magical might of Asheron. These have a sense of being made by another, as a way to coax the Isparians somewhere else. Who has forged them and for what purpose?
Martine smiled with satisfaction as the electric flows meshed from the three prongs of the transport base, and the portal flared into being. This was the final one. Twelve in all, his personal invitations to the Isparians to come visit Marae Lassel. And the Virindi thought themselves safe there? The fun would soon begin.
And that was only one front of his crusade against the alien beings. How easy it was to magnify Ecorto’s desire for order into something more radical. And now the Director stood there in Zaikhal, sending hordes of Isparians nipping at the heels of his former tormentors. They would know pain and fear. They would come to know it well.
But Martine wondered whether he was winning the battle at the expense of the war. He trembled with anger as he thought of that meddling witch, Nuhmudira. Housing, of all things! She and her Agents of the Arcanum would need to be dealt with. But Dereth had taught Martine to be flexible, to be patient. Good things were coming. Let the humans play with their new toys, their masks and their elixirs. Let them acquire their “Writs” and think themselves safe and secure in their new homes.
The mouse is never easier to catch than when stuffed with cheese.
The thing once known as Candeth Martine raised his hands and teleported himself back to his stronghold on Marae. After all, he had visitors to prepare for.
As the nights deepen and grow ever more sinister, the autumn moons rise over a troubled landscape. The fall season has arrived in full, many would attest, with the same baleful chill as the Virindi who haunt the isle.
These twilight days have seen the Virindi make their next, and most terrifying, play to gain ultimate control of Dereth. Rumors speak of hidden installations, carefully stockpiled resources, and efforts to construct a New Singularity. If not more dangerous, than far more random, the Virindis countryside raids also continue. The next waves, however, have been composed of Simulacra, cleverly disguised as the very heroes they hunt. As the Virindi strengthen their foothold in the world, the hum of a New Singularity grows ever louder, ever clearer. . .
Against these invading forces the true citizens of Dereth cannot be swayed from grand autumnal celebrations–and discoveries. Ever the experimenters, alchemists have hit upon the means to create valued elixirs, replenishing both physical and mystic vigor. Along with a host of sweet dishes added to the already encyclopedic knowledge of cooking, these will serve well to bolster Dereths heroic forces. And continuing a popular, if gruesome, tradition, the severed remains of certain creatures can again be crafted into masks terrifying to behold–proving the Virindi are not the only ones to don such wear. . . or perhaps their efforts to corrupt humanity have truly begun to succeed.
Yet even as the Virindi attempt to conquer all, humanity looks to better house its own occupation of Dereth. Archmages of the Zaikhal Arcanum have completed research on ancient geomancy texts, allowing for the lawful division of housing, and already vendors with bright entrepreneurial spirits have appeared, offering the finest in home furnishings. Of course, safe habitation on this troubled isle must come at some tremendous price. . .
Miscellaneous Improvements
Minor Details