Beneath the Veil
Eight Day of the Fourth Month 294 AC
Sifting through the remains of the battle once the mist and glamor had fades proves straightforward, if at times disappointing. For one there are no unicorns, no mounts at all. According to the myrkdreki, most adept in illusion of all your company, it is possible that the steeds were in fact transfigured fey mages providing veils and protections to their more visible fellows. The mind boggles slightly at managing spell motions while standing on four hooves, but it is hardly the strangest thing you have ever seen or heard of. And so you count the dead and their accoutrements, for none in this company thought of surrender. So passes the last stand of the Violet Court.
You see there glaistig, Dusk Dancer's kin and almost-human archers by the score whose features remind you of avariel and teleriel, but are not them, some echo of an echo wrapped in a tale, and others still even more remote and wrapped in the power of the Feywild. All in hosts of seven gathered.
"The loyalists," Zherys muses with something that might have been respect in his voice. "The ones who would rather die facing us than lose themselves in the wild lonely places. One does not usually consider beings as... whimsical as the fey to be driven by such sentiments. Still..." his features harden. "They died for nothing."
Does he see some strange reflection of his own stillborn plans of fighting you in this field of corpses? You wonder, but do not ask aloud. Some things are better left to lie unspoken, for the sake of lord and vassal alike.
Although the hunt itself had taken little more than a day, it takes the better part of a week to find the treasury and reliquaries of the Violet Court, even with Dusk Dancer's preserved tome to guide he way. One of the mind dragons nearly perished to a balefire trap, and the less said of the perils of what the fey called 'the lotus pit' the better. According to Mereth, demonic smiths might have learned from whatever mad work of sorcery had forged this last bastion, but with its defenders gone you are able to systematically take apart the glamors, bridge the gaps and tear through veils until at last you recover those things which they have saved from the ruin of the Court.
You find shirts of true silver and glamored bows, spies that conjure sorrow and fear and even a single stone, hollowed down the middle by the water's flow that grants the wielder good luck, though it first sight it seems utterly mundane.
Yet through it all, it is Vee who finds the most remarkable 'treasure' of the Violet Court, which is not gold or gems, it is not even knowledge beyond what you had already gained. Bound in lead and seals of warding, surrounded by dire warnings and deadly traps, your friend finds a being strange even for these forgotten depths. Called only 'Empty One' by the fey that captured it, mental communion with the auric fungus reveals it to be properly called a
nulmind, a traveler or perhaps unwitting exile from the Far Realm. It seems relieved to be freed of the fey and in principle willing to serve you, or at least intimidated of Vee, but swearing such an oath is not without its hurdles.
"It can't talk without trying to enslave whatever it's talking to," Vee explains. "That's fine for us, being properly warded and all, but for everyone else..." she trails off darkly.
"But it understands it shouldn't try to twist minds?" Maelor checks.
"More or less," Vee replies, struggling to explain for a moment, not an uncommon thing when dealing with those of the Far Realm. "Imagine if someone told you the air you breathed in every moment was actually full of thinking beings and you devoured them with every breath. As far as it's basic nature is concerned, anythin' that can't push back and protect itself isn't a proper mind, it's just
food. Now it's not all instinct, and I was able to get across that most folk 'round here are born without protections, the way a snail is born without their shell and then we grow 'em or make 'em with tools."
Do you accept the Nulmind's oath?
[] Yes
-[] Send it to Sothoryos, the forge should be a safe place for it to learn surrounded by trained flesh-smiths and mages
-[] Deep it in Sorcerer's Deep, perhaps Xor can help its fellow traveler
[] No
-[] Bind it again and hand it over to the Azure Court, they would likely appreciate the aid in their duty
-[] Kill it
[] Write in
OOC: The rolls were pretty middle of the road until you got 'Far Realm prisoner'. Not yet edited.