By Arcane Faculties
Twentieth Day of the Fourth Month 294 AC
A perilous path stands before you, one built by the hand of your foes and leading you know not where, yet what choice have you? The Old Gods could bar this path, perhaps, thread Old Wyk together with ghostly roots, but what of the next island ill-favored enough to stand upon an unsecured leyline, the next city?
Will you wake up one day soon to find Sorcerer's Deep itself in peril from some spell out of deep time? You cannot take that chance, so you must take this one.
The question now is how to mark the way. The the cloak flayed from Mammon's hide glimmers in the dark between your scales, more real than common matter ever could be, yet you are loath to trust it to the whims fate and the twists of the untested trail.
Scales... a idea comes to you as you look back at Aife, not an entirely sensible one perhaps, but perhaps you can make it more so. "Lya do you think we could shape a spell that allows one to both scry an object and destroy it at a distance when triggered?"
"Principle of Observation and Principle of Destruction?" she asks, startled, her voice echoing strangely through the stone, more felt than heard. "Given enough time that is almost certain to work... oh you mean
now? It isn't going to be pretty, but maybe something you can etch with will and wishcraft."
Somehow you can hear Ser Richard sigh through his helm and several feet of solid stone.
***
Moving quickly, you rise out of the space Qyburn warns you is shifted in time and carve a camber from the stone, a simple dome high enough for you to stand comfortably at the center even in dragon shape, wavy bands of rust red minerals running through the walls. As the twins settle to guard your temporary home, a mage lantern flickers into being between your fingers, the first light these depths have seen since the world began.
"Holy Aife, would you agree to lend us some of your scales that we might find our way back to our proper time once our business with the Deep One wreckers is done?" you ask plainly, though not without some guile in reminding her of her patron's enmity against those who usurped his Domain.
She lashes her tail once, twice against the stone, sapphire eyes narrowed in thought and worry. "Yes," she answers at last. "By those arts I was made, I shall trust them once more, them and
you, Dragon King." The implication could not have been more clear, she does not wholly trust Qyburn, but she does trust you enough to allow him to work his arts upon her scales.
For her part, Lya is already engrossed in the arcane riddle before her, having already drawn a set of wax styluses that work on stone and started to draw up preliminary diagrams, growing exponentially more complex as she works. You catch sight of draconic enchantment, lyrical fey spell-craft, and most of all rune-craft stolen by the First Men from some of Those you had come here to battle. It is almost dizzying to watch her work.
Dizzyng and entrancing, as her eyes flash with every answer and especially with every question. You quickly put those thoughts back where they belong, this is very much not the time or the place.
The spell you forge is not elegant, far from it in fact. You suspect Teana would not allow any Scholarum student to even
attempt to learn it. There is a not inconsiderable chance that casting it will simply detonate the object in the caster's hands, at least if the lines are not inherently part of the 'canvas' which is being worked. Fortunately, Qyburn's work is up to the task even if between the three of you it took closer to half a day than a few hours to finish the work that is still faster than you had any right to hope for given the sheer complexity of the task.
Mark of Greed Created
"Excellent," you proclaim, holding the marked scales in your hand, heavier than they aught to be from the weight of both their origin and the sigils upon them. Turning to Qyburn, you add, "I realize I may be asking an impossible question Wisdom, but can you estimate how long our journey through time will take from our perspective?"
The flesh-smith hums, a deep multi-tonal sound what seems to crawl through the air, his many eyes closed in thought. "If the gradient is constant, which it should be from my limited understanding of chronomancy, then we can expect the journey to take twelve thirteenths of a day, which is to say twenty two hours five minutes and fifty nine seconds."
In what order and with what wards do you advance?
[] Write in order of advance buffs and Qyburn's feats
OOC: I feel kind of bad closing off a chapter with this with only one update per day since it's not the most exciting vote, but I need this stuff to run an engagement properly. Not yet edited.