Private Tales Every Rose Has Its Thorns

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Elris Cedrasca

Lord Commander
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Elris rode through the countryside alone. He savoured the experience. His order travelled in teams and, as a result, they rarely received time to themselves. The last week had been an odd sensation. He had a reason for his isolation. He had located the legendary Skuld Zajac and was on his way to deliver her a warning. He did not wish to endanger her by telling anyone else of her location, he had kept his information close to his chest and revealed nothing to his order. While he had complete faith in his allies, it wasn't his place to tell and he certainly didn't want to risk Goldwater catching whiffs of his actions.

In the past year since the schism had begun, Elris had been elected to the position of Lord Commander - despite his best efforts - and had led one arm of the order against Goldwater's. In that same year, Elris had sought the location of Skuld. She was a templar, she was the best, which had meant she had made herself hard to find. Always in the background, when he wasn't swamped with paperwork or schism-related conflict, he had put all his remaining energy into finding her. Finally, after the long year of searching, he had received a solid lead and had doggedly pursued it.

He was here out of necessity. Yet he was aware his presence was dangerous and did not wish to bring danger to her door. She was retired, she had left, she had earned it after everything. Personally, he had never met her past a passing introduction. The stories of her deeds, however, were still sung about and spoken of within the order. Precisely because of her actions and heroics, he had felt like he owed it to her personally and had come to warn her. Vendar had been making moves against retired templars, several having now joined his cause - although Elris suspected that their hands had been forced. Equally, those he knew that would reject his offer, had mysteriously vanished - again he suspected Vendar. Skuld would be different. Whatever happened today, he would ensure the safety of her and her husband.

As his horse drew nearer to a specific farmstead, Elris slowed his horse to a trot. He made certain that his order insignia was on display, whilst his weapons were stowed on his saddle and not within easy reach. He was not a threat, but he was a stranger - so he took no chances. It was a deliberate show of peace, an extended olive branch, he was, for all intents and purposes, a sitting duck.

Clad in simple armour, weapons carefully stashed away, Elris was a painfully average figure. The only noticeable thing on him was a single black band tied around his arm. He was in mourning. He was mourning the loss of his comrades, the reputation of his order and the integrity of the templars. He had sworn in front of his allies, in front of his God, that he would not remove this until his mission was complete.

He sighed, pulling his horse to a stop tens of meters away from the homestead. Glancing around he began to appreciate the beautiful scenery and mused to himself that he too would like to end up somewhere like this someday. The rolling hills, the verdant grasslands, the simple life. A part of him was jealous, a part of him felt guilty. He had not wished to be here. Like the retired templars, Goldwater had forced his hand.

"My name is Elris Cedrasca." He paused and hoped he had the right home. "I come in search of Skuld Zajac, I bring grave news." Elris held his head low and waited. He wasn't sure what sort of welcome he would receive, but he wouldn't challenge it.

Skuld Zajac
 
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The farming life was quiet. A sharp change from her previous life of roaming the land in search of dark dank caves filled with the energy of death loathing mages that sought to undo the steady flow of life that everyone succumbed to. Routine was not hard to find in the shift in lifestyle.

Plowing fields. Gardening for herbs and other essentials for cooking. Hunting for game at times when the demand for variety was sparked. Kieran was the one to hunt most of the time, a much better archer than she and far quieter as well. Her bumbling through the woods with crossbow in tow had done more damage than good in her attempts at securing any kind of wildlife for a meal. Something he had laughingly teased her about.

The ox pulling her plow was unrelenting in it's pull, Skuld guiding the plow behind with a steady hand as the sound of hooves stopping short making her pull the beast to a snorting stop. She had heard the rider draw near, but had not stopped to look. Something thay had been hard to break from in this life. The silent cursing in her mind at not looking made her second guess the decision after seeing the all to familiar crest of her order upon the rider. Leaning against the arms of the plow, a hand wiped her brow with a rag before stuffing it back into the waist of her breeches before taking another look as the rider spoke.

Taking note of their name, she also stared briefly at the black tie on their arm before tilting her head slightly. The six white marks upon her cheeks marked her out as a Zajac, but with the family name and insignia also came the task of sorting out which was which by the very same mastery marks. White for combat, blue for magic, green for skill with range, and a seldom seen red when one chose to marry in and receive such marks.

"Pray tell, what grave news you bring, Elris Cedrasca. I may relay the message to her as she is reclusive, and selective of whom she speaks with." A blatant lie, but it had served to keep anyone wanting to challenge her in melee away for a time. Even with her former order, anyone seeking her out by name was held at arms length, if only to keep her securely out of her former life.

If he knew enough about her description, he could likely readily tell it was her he was speaking with.
 
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The distinct face markings were a clue. His lead had been correct. Internally, he breathed a sigh of relief but realised it was shortlived. The hard part was working out what to say. Elris had been mulling and mincing his words since he had begun his journey towards her farmstead and, unsurprisingly, he had still been at a loss. He was not an orator. It was particularly tricky, he did not wish to seem that he had come to her in hopes of her fixing everything, nor did he wish to seem he had come here to blame her and pin the last year on her for training Goldwater. He sighed, aware that time spent thinking about these things was time spent sitting in silence.

"I would like to begin by thanking her and her service to the cause. Her retirement is hard-earned and I do not come here seeking favours." He paused, that was a good enough start as any. A caveat and disclaimer that helped to ensure he did not seem like a whinger or a beggar. "Believe me, I would not seek to threaten her retirement by coming here - that I swear." Another pause, he reached for his order sigil, hesitated, and instead placed his hand on his mourning cloth. It was a symbolic gesture, but swearing an oath on something sacred to him was sacrosanct. He breathed, letting his oath linger a moment before continuing.

"The order has broken. Vendar concocted some... unorthodox potions. Their properties are addictive and overuse warps the mind. He turned the order into a mercenary force and those that follow him do so so that they may keep getting their fix." He sighed. He felt like he was coming across whiney, but he needed to convey the news of the past year. He wasn't sure how informed the templar before him was. "The traditional wing, of which I am its leader, we've been trying our best to carry on as normal and fight the undead scourge. However, Goldwater has been attacking members of our order and forcing them to join him. Usually through addiction." He inhaled deeply again, the thought of some of his former comrades who'd been force-fed the vile poultices made him shiver. "He's been targeting both old, and new." And that, Elris thought to himself, was where Skuld comes in.

"I am not asking for her return, although I would welcome it. Instead, I simply come to warn her, and her family. If she so desires, I can have protection assigned for her. This doesn't need to become her fight and I won't let it." His face was solemn and stony as he finished speaking. There were other things too, other things he'd omitted. The alliance casting the order from their ranks, for one. Similarly, Goldwater's association with Skuld left many outsiders to believe his was the legitimate cause. The odds were stacked against them.
 
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His silence was at first met with a sharply raised brow. Was it shyness that grabbed his tongue? Hesitation for something nearby as to not alarm her? Neither it seemed as he began to talk. A small nod was given to his words of thanks and of not seeking favors.

"She would certainly like to think so." Skuld cut in quickly to the speaking of retirement. She had led where she had not wanted to. Bargained with the other orders when it would benefit the greater good of the people. Before hearing him stumble in speech to assure her of no threat to it. Which earned him a small smirk from her. Her eyes followed his hand to the mourning cloth before he spoke.

This time, her smile sunk. And only fell further as the news of what had transpired so shortly after her departure. The once proud Black Rose's she had cultivated had fallen to little more than a band of armed addicts. And no less by her student who she had entrusted it all to. Licking her lips, she took a deep breath as she listened to the growing list of ill deeds Vendar had committed. Going after fellow templar was bad, and going after retired ones yet worse still. Which meant her secrecy from that life had been well planned.

He stated his intent, not asking for her return, but rather warning her of impending danger. Which she gave a sharp click of her tongue to in kind. Eyes fell on him when he finished speaking, taking measure of him for a long minute before scratching her head and drumming her fingers on the handle.

"You are to stay the night. We have a guest room." She finally hissed, features sharp and angry at the thought of Vendar destroying what she had held so proudly to her heart. "Dismount and make yourself comfortable. My husband should be back shortly." With those words, she turned to the west towards the woods as her fingers came to her mouth. A shrill whistle piercing the air in a series before spitting.

"Damned dirt. Let me finish up here. Water inside the barn for the horse, hay too. I'll be inside shortly. Wine, mead, water. Take your pick." Skuld did not leave room for argument in her tone. Whipping the reins sharply and finishing the row while watching Elris.
 
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He held his breath as he waited for Skuld's response. Thankfully, it seemed Vendar had not yet reached her farmstead. Despite the long odds, a small part of him had been worried that the legendary templar may yet side, or perhaps already have sided with the rogue faction. It had been a stray thought that had festered and kept him up on every night during the journey. Fortunately, that was not the case and Elris felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

He had not wished to impose, nor intrude, but Skuld's reaction had certainly left him with the impression that he had no choice in the matter. "Thank you for your hospitality and I apologise for having to darken your door." He nodded solemnly, he held no choice in the matter, but that pang of guilt was everpresent.

Elris led his horse slowly into the barn. He appreciated the hard work the beast had put into making the journey to the remote farm possible and it had most certainly deserved the comforts of this barn. A small smile flickered on his face as he dismounted, gave the beast a brief grooming and shifted some hay in front of it for its consumption. He had grown up on farms and being back in such a familiar place left him with no small sense of nostalgia.

He sighed. Today wasn't a time to dwell on the past, the only thing that mattered now was the present. He felt rude entering her home armed and armoured, so he took some time alone within the barn to change into more mundane clothing. A simple woollen shirt, trousers and some scuffed brown boots to complete his transformation.

Satisfied with his appearance, he slowly looped around and entered the quaint homestead. He was greeted with familiar sights inside and felt a small rumble of jealous within him as he yearned for the simple life Skuld had created for herself. He vowed there and then, over a glass of mead, that he would ensure whatever happened Skuld would return to this lifestyle. Normality would resume, whatever the cost.
 
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She finished the row she was on, taking just enough time for the man to change as she unhooked the ox and watched Kieran emerge from the woods in a rush. She waved towards him, a beckoning motion that was barely visible most likely, but the motion carried the meaning. Setting the ox in his paddock, she poked her head into the barn, before looking out to the field. Her own horse she had let out to the field, not wanting to keep it penned up so often. Now she almost regretted it.

Kieran came rushing, in one hand a bow and the other a splay of rabbits, and Skuld shushed him before explaining. A mix of irritation, disbelief, and resignation crossed him. Words were exchanged, talk of the future and smiles before a kiss passed between them and he sighed. Both entered, hand in hand before he set off to dress the rabbits after fetching the good knife.

Skuld washed her hands in the basin, toweling them dry on a handing apron before drawing her own ale and guzzling it down. She slowly refilled it, the tap snapping shut as she sighed, her back to him. "He's been at this ill business, what, a year? I am surprised I didn't hear about this sooner; More surprised he didn't find me already." She spoke in a quiet tone, sad and angry in the same sound. She sniffed, taking a sip before turning to look at Elris.

"So what do you plan to do?" She asked finally.
 
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Elris had made himself comfy on one of the sturdy chairs set back from the middle of the room. His mind was off considering strategies and plans of action for his return. He was acutely aware that the longer he spent here, even the week it had taken him to get here, would put his comrades in greater risk and trouble. Thankfully, for him at least, his right hand Fala was a capable leader - even despite her inability to talk. He was lost in his own world and it wasn't until the arrival of Skuld and her husband that he stirred from his trance. Equally, he realised, he hadn't even touched his mead.

He took a deep swig of the murky liquid, not wanting to seem ungrateful before he spoke. "Perhaps he was ashamed and, maybe, didn't want to tarnish your memory of him." He sighed. Elris couldn't begin to understand Vendar's actions. If he could, this whole schism would have been over in a heartbeat.

Then, at long last, the great question. The question he had spent his whole leadership considering. The end goal and exit strategy out of this great conundrum. What next, what do you plan to do?

"For starters, if we can overcome his forces... I wish to capture him. Anything less and we run the risk of delegitimising our cause and making him a martyr. I want to send him to the Blacks." He let his statement linger for a few moments and washed his mouth out with another swig of mead. Despite Vendar's actions, he didn't feel comfortable sending one of his own to the Blacks, it didn't sit right with him - but there were few alternatives.

"The Alliance has struck us off, they do not wish to associate with a fragmented order undergoing a civil war. It's understandable but regrettable. Equally, Vendar has been actively swelling his forces with whatever he can find. That said, we control most of the strategic holds and chapters. Frankly, I'm better at grand tactics too." He looked uncomfortable when saying the last bit of that statement, but it was true. A few early victories from his side had forced Vendar into hiding to lick his wounds, it had held him at bay, but Elris knew a second wave was inevitable.
 
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Her eyes narrowed at the quick assessment of Vendar. If her former student had felt that way, it was a poor excuse for his actions. More likely he had become so grossly involved with his own affairs that he had not thought to seek out his teacher. Or just had not committed to the act. Either way, it would happen eventually, and her location was not nearly as well hidden as she had previously thought.

She listened to him speak of strategy, eyes becoming distant as she thought of her own maneuvers on the matter. Capturing the man was best, but given what she had been told already, was likely to be a foolhardy attempt. The mention of making him a martyr made her think however. Her own presence would subdue the thought of such a notion, or at least severely dampen the fallout.

The mention of the Alliance revoking their presence however made her pale. A little color returned at the thought of Elris having secured the vital points, but did nothing for the idea that Vendar was only preparing to strike back in kind. A deep sigh came from her, licking her lip before chewing on it as she thought. A hand rose from the table, leaving the mug alone as it rubbed her brow before smoothing her hair. Kieran stepped inside, peering at her before plopping the skinned and gutted game on the kitchen table to the far end of the room.

"Nothing good?" He asked her softly, sorrow in her eyes as she shook her head. "How bad?"

"You need to stay with my parents. Quietly." His hand stopped when she spoke, expression shocked.

"You can't-"

"It is not up for debate. Take the wagon, pack what you can. He found me-" Pointing to Elris before continuing. "And Vendar has been hunting current and former templars. Please. Don't argue." She spoke quickly, a breath barely spared between the pause.

"I'll cook, then pack." He spoke quietly, the knife in his hand piercing the sudden quiet that had fallen.

"Thank you." Skuld sighed before looking to Elris. "As for you, where are those loyal to you?"
 
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Elris didn't watch her face as he spoke. He struggled to maintain eye-contact with the figure before him. The pain as he spoke was evident and the guilt was palpable. While this was a fight he himself had been reluctantly drafted into, he had always wondered if he had been better, would he be sat here? Perhaps more suitable candidates for leadership existed. A quick shake of the head stymied any further thought on the matter. The situation was as it was, there was no room for what-ifs.

She had listened silently to him droll on, it was therapeutic in a sense. Rarely these days had he had the chance to discuss such issues with someone in the dark of it all. It helped provide a sounding board, it cleared his mind and, again, he felt somewhat lifted from the burden once he had spoken his thoughts out loud. As she strode off to discuss with her husband his heart sank a little. He did not eavesdrop, he would not dishonour her like that, but he caught snippets of the conversation.

Those loyal to him. His men. He breathed, at the start of the schism there were far more than there were now. Each name he lost he had committed to memory. Each name was a defeat, suffered at the hand of Goldwater. "We were 'encouraged' to leave Herath, so I moved us to Cortos. I grew up there so I know the land. Equally, I moved our main alchemical vault to the Elbion region instead, Alliria was too close to his forces." He paused but said no more. While they'd secured the vaults and several holds, Goldwater had pillaged some of the major sources and farms for some of the major reagants. Their supplies would hold for a while, but not forever.

"Roughly, our ranks are split over age. Vendar's flashy potions, fighting and active recruiting have lured many naive and impressionable recruits to their side. Those that remained with me are older, more tempered." It was a rough generalisation, some newer recruits had joined his faction and vice versa with the older members. As a whole, however, it was right enough.
 
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She steeped her fingers, listening to his words as she pondered what all could be done with the numbers being split relatively down the middle. It wasn't a strange thing for them all to be split, after all, power appealed to some while honor held the same for others. The move of material and equally important, the vault, was a strategic choice. But if Goldwater held the recipes, it mattered little about the vault. He would only be after certain things, and she likely knew what he was after with what she had been told.

She would keep that close to her chest for the moment until she could confirm it however.

"He's thrice times the fool I thought he was for doing this, but somehow I am not surprised. Poor decision on my part for thrusting power at him before I felt he was ready. Too hasty in my decision to leave. My fault." She hissed, her husband shooting her a look before she waved him off. "You'll stay the night, and eat with us. I'll help him pack and then we will be on our way when he leaves." She again did not leave it open for discussion, instead moving to help set the table and refill his drink.

They would eat, and the space in front of the fire made into a bed with furs and blankets as the pair went to their own room, muffled talking occurring for a short while before the light went out in their room. All was peaceful for the moment.

(ooc, make a post of what he is doing for the evening to move this along, going to be throwing some stuff this way)
 
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"Please Skuld. This isn't your fault. At first, he led with honour and dignity, somewhere along the line he just lost his way." Elris smiled weakly at his words but spoke with conviction. His first impression of Skuld had told him everything he needed to know. A part of him, at first at least, had considered if she was to blame for his transgressions against the order. Yet this thought was fleeting and brief, she was an honourable woman who had been given a bad hand in the form of Goldwater.

He didn't argue and nodded briefly. The day passed quickly. Elris found himself helping in some of the daily chores, which he found almost therapeutic. Falling into a routine, doing mundane activities, it all helped to ground him and remind him of the real reason he had joined the order. Schism aside, he was protecting the regular folk of Arethil from the wicked grasp of the undead. Hopefully someday in the future, he too could return to such a life. He sighed, knowing the idea was unlikely.

As the individuals slowly turned back in for the night ahead. Elris found difficulty settling. The return of Skuld was a welcome and a blessing, he had many things to think about. Furthermore, deep within the pit of his stomach, he felt an odd sensation. His gut was warning him of something, he was sure of it. He sighed, rising from his bed. Quietly, or at least as quietly as he could manage on creaking floorboards, he made his way to the window.

He stared out into the darkness of the farmyard. Something wasn't right. He was sure of it.
 
The woods in the dark of night were silent, even if they were not abandoned. Four sets of eyes stared over the farmstead, hands lingering on low hanging limbs as the double pair of bodies moved forward silently in the night even donned in full plate armor. Their swords hung from a hand, eyes glazed over as they silently moved forward. A series of hand gestures directing them in the moonlight having followed Elris at a distance that bordered constant loss of their quarry.

Goldwater had tasked them with following the new commander, and these men had been fine hunters before the addiction to the Black Seed had taken hold. Now they were feverish bloodhounds, baying for the chase and high that came with the alchemy that Goldwater had brought the Black Roses. Beneath the helmets, eyes scoured the house, one pair circling around to find any windows while the other pair made for the front door.
 
Elris had grown up on a farm and had always appreciated how perceptive the animals they kept were. Today was no different on Skuld's farm. In the dead of night, the eternal silence rang louder than any alarm. Even at this time of year, at this time of night, there was to be some noise - some sound - life would be stirring or moving. Yet today there was nothing. His gut was worming itself into knots - something was wrong - he could feel it.

He cursed himself, remembering his weaponry had been left in the stable and reached for the closest weapon he could think of. The fire poker sat comfortably in his hand and, almost immediately, as his ears tuned out the silence - he heard a single scuffing sound, a foot on the porch. He leapt for the figure the minute the handle turned.

A feverish looking figure, a corrupted Goldwater thug no less, stepped in clad in heavy armour. The poker would be an ineffective weapon against the figure, but it mattered little, the force and surprise of Elris' attack would send him sprawling - and it did.

"SKULD, KIERAN, TO ARMS!" He bellowed, standing atop the assailant and pinning him to the floor. Elris jammed the poker through the palm of figure and wedged it into the ground. He knew it wouldn't hold the corrupted fellow, but it would buy him time to get his equipment - and with that, he was off to the barn.
 
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Sounds from the bedroom when Elris began his fight suggested the pair were already in a tussle of their own as the second armored body flailing at the unexpected assault as Elris pushed past them. The second man had the split second wonder of helping their partner as they paused a moment too long.

"Get him you dullard!"

"Shut it mange-face!"

An angry roar from the other room had the man pinned to the floor wide eyed and grabbing the poker before yelping as they ripped it free. The dullard broke into a sprint after Elris, having to orient themselves quickly before giving chase towards the barn.

The other man twisted, ready to stand as the perfume cap pommel of a large sword smashed into the plate armor he wore. He retched at having been hit in the stomach as the door closed harshly with a short scream before silence.
 
Elris had a small advantage time-wise on his opponent. The potion he knew the opponent had taken left him quicker and faster than the Lord Commander, but like everything, it came with risks. As the Templar rounded the corner into the barn, he reached for his satchel before his weapon.

The demented opponent reared his ugly head only to be met with alchemical flash powder. He roared as the powder sparked and illuminated the area in a sudden intense burst of unnatural silver light. His senses - enhanced by the corrupting potions he had imbibed - were overwhelmed with this and the man staggered backwards clawing at his eyes in pain.

Elris did not waste opportunities. Nor did he feel inclined for mercy towards this fellow. Without hesitation, his sword was buried deep within the exposed neck of the former templar and, after a few brief spasms and jerks, he died.

Sword in hand, Elris ran back towards the house and into Skuld's bedroom. He did not know what to find, but he hoped the two were unharmed.

"Skuld, Kieran, are you unharmed? Is everything okay." He bellowed as he bounded up the stairs.
 
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When he entered the house, Elris would note that there was a distinct blood trail from the living room to the room upstairs. As though someone had been drug while wounded.

"Aye, lot of us er fine! Upstairs man." He could hear Keiran from upstairs, beckoning.

When he entered the room however, he could see Keiran holding a rag to his arm while Skuld twisted the end of the zwiehander blade in the mans hand, the other hand pinned beneath her husbands heel with his knee on the mans chest.

The woman's attention was sharply on the assailant she had beneath the blade tip. A graze on her cheek bleeding with ease as Keiran nodded over to a second and third body from where he was. Intent for Elris to double check they were well and truly finished.

"Gus, you knew better." Skuld hissed quietly, the man removed of his helmet as his eyes sunken eyes beheld the rage burning in his retired commanders eyes.

"I-We-Goldwater. He made..made Promises." Gus stammered, licking his lips as his arms tensed and flexed. "Said we could take over. Whole area. Make us strong."

Skuld shook her head before speaking. "You and the rest of your lot are fools then. Where's Goldwater?" Gus grew tight lipped, eyes darting between the three of them. A heavy sigh escaped her, looking to Elris with resignation.

"Stick the fire poker in the embers, Elris." Her voice was neutral, but there was a distinct ring of an order to it.
 
Elris' usually stony and stoic expression lifted for a few moments as he saw the carnage before him. Thankfully, after a few reassuring breaths, he reminded them the two of them were fine. He glanced at the former templar pinned to the floor by Skuld and winced. It was hard watching good men fall and Gus had certainly been one of the best.

He didn't need Skuld to repeat herself and went downstairs to retrieve the poker and do as she asked. A minute passed before he returned with the red hot poker and Elris held the weapon aloft - menacingly close towards his left eye.

"Gus, I don't think that was a question. Please, don't make us become monsters like the rest of your kin. Make this easy." He pleaded, a hint of desperation in his voice. Unfortunately, it fell on deaf ears and Elris sighed, plunging the red hot poker into the eyeball of his former Templar.

Time stretched on for what felt like an eternity, but could only have been a passing second or two. The screams and squeals of the man as his eyeball was soldered by the poker left Elris feeling uneasy - but he did not hesitate.

Eventually, Gus broke. "The Reach, we're in the Reach, an abandoned keep near the Spine - Baerston or something... Goldwater has been experimenting with some of the plants imported from the Ixchel Wilds." Elris inhaled and pulled the poker from his eye - the remains of it sat smouldering in his skull.

"I can't imagine anything from the Wilds being good news..." He spoke wearily, his voice full of exhaustion and exasperation.