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12/03/1010

I have been working very hard on my end, and tracked it down. I wouldn't have believed it unless I saw it with my own eyes, and saw it I did. The next step.
And yet I know they will hesitate, Master. ...if I may be so bold...I don't think the intention is to bring you out anymore. At least, not safely. From any side.
Things have been changing over here. The mortals casually drop words that they think are nothing, perhaps even just childish, foolish; and that affects it. The Black Stars studied the damage being done, and now they know how it works; they are quite impressed. Their Force are scouring the Rhiassian countryside and then going deeper south, hoping to find skilled, spoiled children who are used to getting what they want, and strong, willful people who don't care how much their words hurt others, so long as their ends are met.
...you're still silent.
...I know you said not to, but under my disguise, I went and found the Artist. I know the Mortals have changed her name to the Inventress, and its strange: she's starting to reflect that. The last time I watched her, before this one, she wore a simple dress, and danced and painted and drew pictures and plans and scrolls. Her last dance partner was that fellow who made himself silent, Jokan or Yojan or something.
Now she's twisted, too. As if she knew her time was going to be up, or should have been. As if Faerie was affecting her, as its being troubled. And the words on top of it? The girl really didn't have a choice.
...I know she doesn't care, though.
She has longer legs for which to run, jump, and walk carefully upon her creations. She is building a House of Invention, or so the sign painted outside says. And its filled with all sorts of traps and wooden and steel wonders, and she just keeps building. One of her arms has been very tired; in a sling. She grumbles about how flesh is failing her at the wrong time, and how she has an idea.
The golems she makes are a mechanical wonder in itself: they run on some sort of enchantment, but every once in a while, one of them can break through a simple chant by sending out a short blast of null magic, resisting the chanter and drawning near to them.
Many rooms are filled with interesting puzzles, but I fear for her safety: once she builds a room, she sets the traps immediately and then shuts the door, never returning to the room. I continue to bring her materials, however, Master, for I am curious as to how this will all turn out.
It's sad, really. If she wasn't so broken, I'd think she'd make a fine Counselor of Earth and Water for the new Queen.
...you're still silent. You're probably thinking, what does that have to do with me?
Well, Master, as I mentioned before, I don't think the current Pathwalkers have any intention of saving you. That being said, depending on who the next Counselor of Earth and Water is... we might have a new chance.
I'm going back to speak to the Queen. There's a Yule gathering, and I know there are letters and the like going out then...I'm going to make sure they all get where they need to go, and that He is not disturbed by anything in the slightest along the way.
Oh, and one more thing: the three mages might have two more joining them soon. The Black Star Guild is intending on sending one of their own, and Ged has asked another human to specifically support *him* in this endeavor.
...I know. Things look bleak.
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You wake up.
Created by Janna Oakfellow-Pushee at 12-06-10 03:35 PM
Last Modified by Janna Oakfellow-Pushee at 12-06-10 03:36 PM