Don't worry, I know my audience. ;)

I was about to suggest letting it go actually. Hear me out. @Duesal hear me out. If we hit the thing with avasculate then it will ooze out blood as per the description of its spell. With that blood we can cast a divination beacon on it and since it will flee back to Tiamat then we can have a beacon straight into the heart of her fortress.

Edit: I am about to get Jon Snowed for this plan
 
I was about to suggest letting it go actually. Hear me out. @Duesal hear me out. If we hit the thing with avasculate then it will ooze out blood as per the description of its spell. With that blood we can cast a divination beacon on it and since it will flee back to Tiamat then we can have a beacon straight into the heart of her fortress.

Edit: I am about to get Jon Snowed for this plan

Actually, we have one of his scales already. We can already pull this off without complicated maneuvers.
 
@Goldfish, the fact that Ser Baelor is still under Lucan's surveillance is a huge problem. Contacting the Lantern Bearers aside, how are we going to address this?
 
@Goldfish, the fact that Ser Baelor is still under Lucan's surveillance is a huge problem. Contacting the Lantern Bearers aside, how are we going to address this?
It's just the Septon in the Hightower that is keeping an eye on Baelor. That's so easily circumvented that we shouldn't even need to specify how he will be distracted or kept otherwise occupied.
 
It's just the Septon in the Hightower that is keeping an eye on Baelor. That's so easily circumvented that we shouldn't even need to specify how he will be distracted or kept otherwise occupied.
Can we keep an eye on him anyway? Ser Baelor's safety could easily be compromised in response to us hitting the accursed sept since it's such a loud mission. Maybe just have minions with access to a Brazier take care of it while we're busy?
 
Horde Thief Chapter LI
<< Previous
Horde Thief
Chapter 51​

We flickered into being at the side of a road almost four thousand miles away, before Victorian gates in wrought black iron. Viserys released his grip on my shoulder and looked through the entrance at the gentle wilderness on each side of the gravel driveway leading up to an old-looking house. It was a pretty place, nestled at the end of an old but well-kept road and though it wasn't large, I hadn't expected it to be. I knew the Archive had to have money, the cost of Kincaid's services had made that clear to me, but it was also a practical being. Enough to live comfortably and in safety was practical. Anything more would be unnecessary.

I reached up a hand to the closed gates, and whistled softly as I touched my fingers to the cold metal, feeling the restrained power of some truly impressive wards. This couldn't have all been Ivy's work, the foundations of it were too old, and tied to more than the low stone wall around the property. We were somewhere in Wales, and I found myself reminded suddenly that the Greek Oracles hadn't had a monopoly on knowledge of the past and future. No one country did, but stories of the Druids were well known. Had this been a place of theirs once, taken by the Archive after they vanished from the pages of history? Maybe I could ask Ivy one day, but not with us on the clock right now. I made a fist of my hand and tapped the centre of the gate twice.

Immediately I felt the wards react, a burning tension that spoke of power as deep as any I'd found in the demesne of one as powerful as the Archive. What took me by surprise, though, was the complexity of it. I'd felt magic like this only once before, in the bowels of Demonreach, and though it shouldn't have been a surprise that the Archive was capable of replicating something like it, it made for a sobering thought. I'd told Captain Luccio once that I felt the Archive should be considered more powerful than the least of the Faerie Queens in Council threat assessments. Now I knew she should be. It was like standing in front of a furnace, or what I imagined standing next to a working transformer would feel like. But the focused presence of the wards vanished without incident, leaving the gates to swing soundlessly open. I started forward, boots crunching on the gravel, then stopped as I realised my footsteps were the only ones I was hearing. I turned, looking back at Viserys to find him staring at something I couldn't see, his expression one of shock and pure wonder. He noticed the moment I turned and covered it well, but he'd seen something there.

"Something wrong?" I asked, and the silver-haired man shook his head. That, at least, was true; it had come too easily to be falsehood.

"No," he told me quietly, moving up beside me. "Not at all." He left it at that, and I knew better than to try to push.

The walk to the house didn't take long, but for someone like me the quiet was almost eerie. I've lived most of my adult life in Chicago. I'm comfortable with its sounds, its smells, all the things that you get used to when a place is home. This was just odd, with so little noise beyond the faint wind rustling the freshly budding leaves, and yet I couldn't deny the simple, wild beauty that surrounded us. The woods must have gone on for miles.

There were two people standing at the door of the house, an old building of stone bricks with a slate roof extending into the hillside behind it. One was a tall man, as tall as me, in black fatigues and probably concealing more weapons than I'd owned in my entire life. The other was a young woman who I'd not seen for more than six years. It was hard to believe how much she'd grown, and their matched blonde hair shone in the brilliant spring sunshine. She was wearing a light green jacket over a long dress and the skirt swirled in the light wind as she broke away from now only moderately taller man beside her to rush forward.

I opened my arms in a welcoming gesture, and was taken entirely by surprise when she slammed the heel of her palm directly into my chest on reaching me. I staggered back, and she caught one of my flailing hands, pulled hard enough to completely reverse my direction, and then caught me in a hug tight enough that I had a little trouble breathing.

I was aware of Viserys relaxing somewhere in the back of my mind, but my focus just wasn't there. "Don't you ever do that again," Ivy whispered fiercely at me in her faintly British accent, shaking a little as I brought my hands up to return the gesture of affection I was trapped in. There wasn't much I could say, not with who I was now, but I could give her the certainty that I was there.

The man approached a little slower than his charge, watching Viserys cautiously, but without aggression. As he entered easy speaking distance, I found myself grinning.

"You know," I called to the mercenary that some called the Hellhound, "I'm a little disappointed, Kincaid. You had one j-ow!" The slick delivery was ruined as Ivy pulled back just enough to hit me in the chest again before returning to the hug. I subsided, but Kincaid only matched my smile.

"Sorry Dresden," he replied dryly, "my refunds policy doesn't cover interference from Faerie Queens." Ivy kicked him in the shins. Or at least she tried to, he dodged most of the blow. I was certain he could have avoided all of it if he'd wanted to.

"Stop it," she growled, long-buried anger and pain mixing in her voice. And yet I knew that she wouldn't have hit me like that if I hadn't hurt her so much with my, albeit temporary, death. Nor if she hadn't cared, and still did.

"Alright," I said, I could do that for her. Possibly the most dangerous girl on the planet, if what I'd seen of her in action before, looked up at me for a moment as if judging me. She probably was. Whatever the criteria, I must have passed muster, as I saw the ghost of a smile touch her face before she released me to step back.

"Good." She nodded. I knew the signs, she was moving on for now, but I wasn't off the hook. I had to wonder how long it must have taken her to forgive Kincaid, but then I guessed I'd be finding out for myself. ""Your message said that Mr Archleone was behind what's happening. In most cases, I would be forced to settle for the punishments inflicted on him as stipulated by the Accords. But he is no longer a member of the Accords, and whatever he has done, Mr Dresden, it threatens me."

My mind raced for a moment, trying to remember how old she'd been when we'd last met. Nine, ten? Seven years since…and another piece clicked into place on the horrific puzzle, that I'd not even realised was there. "Of course," I growled. "He never got over losing that fight. And he's the type to hold a grudge."

"Indeed." The Archive replied calmly. "From what your message contained, you know where he is, his general plan, and intend to do something about it. As a threatened party, I wish to be involved."

"What about the effects of the curse?" Viserys asked, speaking up for the first time in the conversation. "If you're affected, surely it would weaken you?" He didn't seem to have a problem with her coming along, but there was a touch of concern there for the girl below the power, one that I shared. The Archive faded back a little, and it was Ivy who spoke next.

"I'm not completely helpless against this sort of magic, Mr Targaryen." Most wouldn't have noticed the reaction that prompted, but I'd been around Viserys long enough to notice the small motion that freed his hands, making ready to summon power. "Sadly my defences are of the sort that no one else this age would be able to replicate, but I can act freely in this. And I will."

"I see," he said slowly. He clearly didn't, but I could explain Ivy's nature when we had time.

"Can you take us back to Chicago the same way you came?" She asked, and only then did I see the two overnight bags behind her. One was a bit heavier than the other, and I wondered how many weapons Kincaid had packed. He'd acquire more when he knew the nature of the mission, no doubt.

"If you'll trust it," Viserys said in return, all too aware now of how many people distrusted teleportation. A Way was one thing. What he did was quite another.

"Harry let you bring him here that way," Ivy said simply. "He wouldn't do that unless it was safe. Not for something this important. You can all three of us? I wouldn't want to leave here without Kincaid."

"Of course," Viserys nodded graciously, gesturing towards their bags. "Is there anything else you need, or is that everything?"

"I'd love a primer on your language," she told him, and the silver-haired man went absolutely still. "But swift transportation to Mr Dresden's house will do."

"How do you," I laid my hand on Viserys' arm as he started to demand an answer, and Ivy smiled. It was a sad sort of smile, though.

"I'm the Archive, Mr Targaryen." She said, as if that explained absolutely everything, and for most it would have. She really had grown, she noticed the silence in a way her younger self never would have done so. "If it's written, I know it. We can talk about it later."

There was a long silence, in which Kincaid's hand dropped casually to rest behind his back. Then Viserys nodded firmly, to himself more than the rest of us. "That would be fascinating."

"Then let's go," Ivy said, walking back to pick up her bag. "We'll need to go to the edge of the property again before we can leave. Oh," she said as Kincaid walked back to retrieve his own, much heavier, equipment bag. "And this is Kincaid. He's my bodyguard." The Hellhound swung the bag over his shoulder without even a grunt of effort, and Ivy smiled beatifically.

"Shall we go?"
 
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There are some things behind the scenes going on here, but I'm not going to get into them now. Suffice to say that Viserys is extremely intrigued. The next update might go into that, as it's probably going to be a Viserys PoV piece, but for now you have what you have. Hopefully I did Ivy justice, but then she's had quite a few years to grow up in, and some pretty major trauma to get over, too. Having actually done the math on this from a series timeline, I can say that Ivy at this point is sixteen or seventeen and therefore entirely in range of the Passover replication ritual. Unfortunately for Nic, he's no longer a member of the Accords, which means the Archive…doesn't have to be neutral where he's concerned. And that's before he decided to be an existential threat to it. And Ivy.

And yes, for those who aren't aware, the distinction is a pretty significant one.
 
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<< Previous
Horde Thief
Chapter 51​

Oh," she said as Kincaid walked back to retrieve his own, much heavier, equipment bag. "And this is Kincaid. He's my bodyguard." The Hellhound swung the bag over his shoulder without even a grunt of effort, and Ivy smiled beatifically.

Viserys: "Mine's better."

Ivy, looking around: "Then where is he?"

Viserys: "...that doesn't count."

Ivy: "Ivy, one..."

Viserys: "Doesn't count!" Pop.
 
Can we keep an eye on him anyway? Ser Baelor's safety could easily be compromised in response to us hitting the accursed sept since it's such a loud mission. Maybe just have minions with access to a Brazier take care of it while we're busy?
I really don't think it's necessary, but it's not that big a deal. Plan updated to take Baelor's issues into account, though without being overly specific.
 
<< Previous
Horde Thief
Chapter 51​

We flickered into being at the side of a road almost four thousand miles away, before Victorian gates in wrought black iron. Viserys released his grip on my shoulder and looked through the entrance at the gentle wilderness on each side of the gravel driveway leading up to an old-looking house. It was a pretty place, nestled at the end of an old but well-kept road and though it wasn't large, I hadn't expected it to be. I knew the Archive had to have money, the cost of Kincaid's services had made that clear to me, but it was also a practical being. Enough to live comfortably and in safety was practical. Anything more would be unnecessary.

I reached up a hand to the closed gates, and whistled softly as I touched my fingers to the cold metal, feeling the restrained power of some truly impressive wards. This couldn't have all been Ivy's work, the foundations of it were too old, and tied to more than the low stone wall around the property. We were somewhere in Wales, and I found myself reminded suddenly that the Greek Oracles hadn't had a monopoly on knowledge of the past and future. No one country did, but stories of the Druids were well known. Had this been a place of theirs once, taken by the Archive after they vanished from the pages of history? Maybe I could ask Ivy one day, but not with us on the clock right now. I made a fist of my hand and tapped the centre of the gate twice.

Immediately I felt the wards react, a burning tension that spoke of power as deep as any I'd found in the demesne of one as powerful as the Archive. What took me by surprise, though, was the complexity of it. I'd felt magic like this only once before, in the bowels of Demonreach, and though it shouldn't have been a surprise that the Archive was capable of replicating something like it, it made for a sobering thought. I'd told Captain Luccio once that I felt the Archive should be considered more powerful than the least of the Faerie Queens in Council threat assessments. Now I knew she should be. It was like standing in front of a furnace, or what I imagined standing next to a working transformer would feel like. But the focused presence of the wards vanished without incident, leaving the gates to swing soundlessly open. I started forward, boots crunching on the gravel, then stopped as I realised my footsteps were the only ones I was hearing. I turned, looking back at Viserys to find him staring at something I couldn't see, his expression one of shock and pure wonder. He noticed the moment I turned and covered it well, but he'd seen something there.

"Something wrong?" I asked, and the silver-haired man shook his head. That, at least, was true; it had come too easily to be falsehood.

"No," he told me quietly, moving up beside me. "Not at all." He left it at that, and I knew better than to try to push.

The walk to the house didn't take long, but for someone like me the quiet was almost eerie. I've lived most of my adult life in Chicago. I'm comfortable with its sounds, its smells, all the things that you get used to when a place is home. This was just odd, with so little noise beyond the faint wind rustling the freshly budding leaves, and yet I couldn't deny the simple, wild beauty that surrounded us. The woods must have gone on for miles.

There were two people standing at the door of the house, an old building of stone bricks with a slate roof extending into the hillside behind it. One was a tall man, as tall as me, in black fatigues and probably concealing more weapons than I'd owned in my entire life. The other was a young woman who I'd not seen for more than six years. It was hard to believe how much she'd grown, and their matched blonde hair shone in the brilliant spring sunshine. She was wearing a light green jacket over a long dress and the skirt swirled in the light wind as she broke away from now only moderately taller man beside her to rush forward.

I opened my arms in a welcoming gesture, and was taken entirely by surprise when she slammed the heel of her palm directly into my chest on reaching me. I staggered back, and she caught one of my flailing hands, pulled hard enough to completely reverse my direction, and then caught me in a hug tight enough that I had a little trouble breathing.

I was aware of Viserys relaxing somewhere in the back of my mind, but my focus just wasn't there. "Don't you ever do that again," Ivy whispered fiercely at me in her faintly British accent, shaking a little as I brought my hands up to return the gesture of affection I was trapped in. There wasn't much I could say, not with who I was now, but I could give her the certainty that I was there.

The man approached a little slower than his charge, watching Viserys cautiously, but without aggression. As he entered easy speaking distance, I found myself grinning.

"You know," I called to the mercenary that some called the Hellhound, "I'm a little disappointed, Kincaid. You had one j-ow!" The slick delivery was ruined as Ivy pulled back just enough to hit me in the chest again before returning to the hug. I subsided, but Kincaid only matched my smile.

"Sorry Dresden," he replied dryly, "my refunds policy doesn't cover interference from Faerie Queens." Ivy kicked him in the shins. Or at least she tried to, he dodged most of the blow. I was certain he could have avoided all of it.

"Stop it," she growled, long-buried anger and pain mixing in her voice. And yet I knew that she wouldn't have hit me like that if I hadn't hurt her so much with my, albeit temporary, death. Nor if she hadn't cared, and still did.

"Alright," I said, I could do that for her. Possibly the most dangerous girl on the planet, if what I'd seen of her in action before, looked up at me for a moment as if judging me. She probably was. Whatever the criteria, I must have passed muster, as I saw the ghost of a smile touch her face before she released me to step back.

"Good." She nodded. I knew the signs, she was moving on for now, but I wasn't off the hook. I had to wonder how long it must have taken her to forgive Kincaid, but then I guessed I'd be finding out for myself. ""Your message said that Mr Archleone was behind what's happening. In most cases, I would be forced to settle for the punishments inflicted on him as stipulated by the Accords. But he is no longer a member of the Accords, and whatever he has done, Mr Dresden, it threatens me."

My mind raced for a moment, trying to remember how old she'd been when we'd last met. Nine, ten? Seven years since…and another piece clicked into place on the horrific puzzle, that I'd not even realised was there. "Of course," I growled. "He never got over losing that fight. And he's the type to hold a grudge."

"Indeed." The Archive replied calmly. "From what your message contained, you know where he is, his general plan, and intend to do something about it. As a threatened party, I wish to be involved."

"What about the effects of the curse?" Viserys asked, speaking up for the first time in the conversation. "If you're affected, surely it would weaken you?" He didn't seem to have a problem with her coming along, but there was a touch of concern there for the girl below the power, one that I shared. The Archive faded back a little, and it was Ivy who spoke next.

"I'm not completely helpless against this sort of magic, Mr Targaryen." Most wouldn't have noticed the reaction that prompted, but I'd been around Viserys long enough to notice the small motion that freed his hands, making ready to summon power. "Sadly my defences are of the sort that no one else this age would be able to replicate, but I can act freely in this. And I will."

"I see," he said slowly. He clearly didn't, but I could explain Ivy's nature when we had time.

"Can you take us back to Chicago the same way you came?" She asked, and only then did I see the two overnight bags behind her. One was a bit heavier than the other, and I wondered how many weapons Kincaid had packed. He'd acquire more when he knew the nature of the mission, no doubt.

"If you'll trust it," Viserys said in return, all too aware now of how many people distrusted teleportation. A Way was one thing. What he did was quite another.

"Harry let you bring him here that way," Ivy said simply. "He wouldn't do that unless it was safe. Not for something this important. You can all three of us? I wouldn't want to leave here without Kincaid."

"Of course," Viserys nodded graciously, gesturing towards their bags. "Is there anything else you need, or is that everything?"

"I'd love a primer on your language," she told him, and the silver-haired man went absolutely still. "But swift transportation to Mr Dresden's house will do."

"How do you," I laid my hand on Viserys' arm as he started to demand an answer, and Ivy smiled. It was a sad sort of smile, though.

"I'm the Archive, Mr Targaryen." She said, as if that explained absolutely everything, and for most it would have. She really had grown, she noticed the silence in a way her younger self never would have done so. "If it's written, I know it. We can talk about it later."

There was a long silence, in which Kincaid's hand dropped casually to rest behind his back. Then Viserys nodded firmly, to himself more than the rest of us. "That would be fascinating."

"Then let's go," Ivy said, walking back to pick up her bag. "We'll need to go to the edge of the property again before we can leave. Oh," she said as Kincaid walked back to retrieve his own, much heavier, equipment bag. "And this is Kincaid. He's my bodyguard." The Hellhound swung the bag over his shoulder without even a grunt of effort, and Ivy smiled beatifically.

"Shall we go?"
I guess Viserys is appreciating the view of the wards?

I'm hoping he saw some familiar spellwork in them, maybe even something hinting at a shared magical tradition with many thousands of years of divergent development.
 
[X] Goldfish

Your vile, pastel ways have poisoned my mind.

Next month's MAs are this now :o
Things for the next month:
[] Collect on the following:
-[] A book on Green Dragons and Chromatic Dragons in particular, adding on to the Draconis Compendium that Relath and Amrelath have already written.
-[] Histories of the Days of Dawn and the Age of Heroes. (Started: 0 months ago)


[] Recover the hoard of Felzath from the Stonedance.

[] When visiting Armun Kelisk and Opaline Vault for wares, try to find rare resources:
-[] Arkas Grass
-[] Entangle Weed
-[] Flame Clove
-[] Livewood
-[] Obaddis Leaf
-[] Cassil
-[] Nararoot

-[] Also attempt to find a cavern-dwelling forestry, ideally a tree that could survive even the harshest conditions Plane of Earth has to offer... Or someone who could find such a tree.

[] Set up an exchange of lore between Shaitan's Spire of Wisdom and Sorcerer's Deep's Scholarum.
-[] Have Scholarum students accompanied by an Erynie and a Pen Dragon visit the spire, with commonplace knowledge and lore of Plane of Balance (but not present on Planes) carefully chosen by Lya, Teana, or Naria to afford best rate of exchange for just as commonplace Planar/Arcane lore.

--[] The students are to be throughly taught the ways to behave and act throughout the trip, so as to not cause an inadvertent accident.
-[] Scholarum-grade lore/books are to be exchanged under much more care, ideally being done by an Arcanum or a Companion. Exchange rate of such materials is, of course, to be set for more important and specific knowledge.


[] Having resolved the issue with Shaitan laws meshing with those of your realm's, now would be the time to visit your other allies, so as to ensure that criminals running from either of your Empires will not find a safe haven in others.
-[] Visit Armun Kelisk, and set up a criminals' extradition policy.


[] Make a formal decision on the legal status of magical companies, guilds and institutions in the realm, specifically regarding the duty to share arcane knowledge with the scholarium any individual mage has.

[] Your Empire faces constant tribulations these days, and it's not likely to ever stop. Still, where mortal hands aren't able, or jsut aren't there to deal with problems... Beings from outside the Garden may.

-[] Dedicate some of your time usually spent on summoning Mammon's devils to summoning Phoenixes instead - have them play the same role Velen once played for you, and the same role their brethren play for orphanages and schools across your Empire - be tutors, but in magic this time.
-[] Summon some Preceptor Archons - have them rehabilitate the criminals and bring peace to minds of those hurt by magics and Madness of Deep Ones... and all else.

[] Long time has passed since that fateful encounter in Essaria. That day you faced the wrath of Bitch-Queen, faced her minions... And found the one, who in time would become one of your closest Companions, and a friend. Still, thinking back to that day, many things have gone less than desireably.
-[] Have someone sent to the mass grave of Golden Company in Essaria to recover the remains. Their bodies' carcasses may yet serve a good purpose still, and rotting away there sure doesn't help anyone - especially with Undead on the rise there. It would be a good idea to take them out so that they aren't raised as well.

[] Make an inquiry on what establishments are responsible for teaching mages in Opaline Vault and Armun Kelisk.
-[] take a cursory look in how the systems operate, keeping an eye for anything Scholarum can effectively copy and implement (how students are awakened to magic, ingenious use of common spells/rituals in teaching, effective methods, etc.)
-[] Additionaly, look into what Armun Kelisk has as an analogue to Opaline Vault's Spire of Wisdom.
--[] Ideally, a deal has to be set up if such an establishment exists, that will mirror that with Spire of Wisdom - but targeting the knowledge we don't already have from there, using our limited supply of commonplace Plane of Balance-lore and Scholarum materials for exchange.
 
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