Stains on our souls

A death

 It is a beautiful winter morning in Salzenmund. I found myself tossing and turning all night, plagued by dreams. I saw the girls dance around Johanna in an autumn forest, all of them laughing and in good spirits. I saw Solrun illuminated in Shallya's light, before her face suddenly turned wicked, her hands growing great claws. She jumped on Johanna's back and slit her throat before I could utter so much as a scream. 

I take a brisk walk before breakfast in the icy cold, barely noticing my hands turning blue. I stop by Shallya's temple, praying that Johanna would make the right choice. My prayers go unanswered and the cold finally creeps into me body and soul on those icy pews. 

I come back to the house as Johanna emerges from her room, her jaw set and determined. Clearly, she's decided. Quietly, she tells us that Solrun is the one - she is sure of it. The other two girls are to be swept away to far away temples, living lives in seclusion among monks. Only our party will know where they'll be. Johanna will take care of the particulars.

She gives us a choice: we can stay in the house, or come to the witch hunters' compound when the deed will be done. Surprisingly, everyone agrees to go - though I suspect with different motivations. 

The two other girls are brought out first, and hurried into waiting carriages. Then Johanna brings out Solrun. I don't know what she's said, but the girl seems calm. She looks to me and the others, clearly looking for a clue what's going to happen. Victor stares straight at her, face unreadable. My brother has his back turned, I suspect to not give away anything - he always wears his heart on his sleeve. She looks at me last, and I give her the best reassuring smile years of practice has taught me, staving off the urge to vomit and warn her to RUN AWAY if you value your life!!! 

Johanna whispers, her grating voice like the rustle of leaves: "Solrun, we've chosen—you are to be set free." A glint of joy blooms on the girl's face, fleeting as a morning star. The knife, hidden in Johanna's trembling grasp, flashes in a swift arc, painting her with crimson as the girl's final breath is stolen away. 

Solrun falls to her knees silently, a look of shock and betrayal. For a moment I think I see something beneath the girl's innocent facade, but it might be nothing but my overactive imagination. 

Johanna quickly walks away from the body and passes us without a word. Her jaw is often set quite hard - today I'm afraid she'll grind her teeth into fine dust. The rest of us quietly fall in line, no one saying a word as we walk home. Some, like Victor and Torgil, seem quite content with the result. I even catch Victor whistling a jolly tune, which he quickly stops when Johanna stares severely at him with dark eyes. 

In the coming days I consider talking to Johanna several times, but the look in her eyes tells me she's not ready. Instead, we go to Shallya's temple together. Johanna has quiet talks with the abbess. I don't inquire as to what they're speaking about. After a few weeks go by, I think Johanna's found her peace in some way with her choice. I'm not sure I have. But in my cowardly heart, I'm glad I didn't have to wield the knife myself. 

Details on Kaulbach

Some time passes as we go into an uneasy sort of daily routine. We discover that Kaulbach, our suspected cult leader, has apparently fled to Nuln. Johanna writes a letter to the witch hunters there, telling them to deal with her. 

I bribe a guard to let me and Eldur into her estate. She's left in shall we say a studied hurry, bringing the most obviously heretical items with her. We find a library devoid of anything shady. There's a letter with correspondence with a Nuln noble. She wasn't able to destroy the Suth temple in the hidden room in her wine cellar however. She also left behind a letter down there, revealing that she's found the vessel, as well as two suitable decoys. 

When we get back to the house, I suggest to Johanna that we let Gosser decide how to handle this. Either on the down low to avoid a scandal, or make a big fuss about apprehending a cultist in our midst. She agrees to my plan, and sends a letter to Uri, the count's advisor. In return, we're invited to the count's estate in Odelitz. 

Odelitz

Me and Johanna meet the count with Uri as soon as we arrive. As suspected, he chooses the route that is least likely to cause a scandal (and thus the people's views of him for allowing such a thing to happen). Uri recommends a suitable cause: excommunicate her rather than have her executed. 

We use the opportunity to tell the count (and for my part, Uri) about the dangers at Wrecker's Point. The count seems largely uninterested, but tells Uri to investigate further at his leisure. An inscrutable look passes the advisor's face - he's a hard one to read indeed! 

A dinner is arranged, quite nice for such a little town. Game is obviously on the menu. Gosser exchanges war stories with Victor, as well as sharing some of his own. I will admit, he is an entertaining and quite charming man (for his age) - it's easy to see why he's the elector-count. Besides the obvious advantage of his family that is. 

As the night passes and Gosser gets deeper in his wine, his intentions with Johanna become clear: he wants to use them for his own ends. Naturally. For the time being, this includes finding corruption in Salkalten, which would allow him an excuse to take back some of the land that he claims naturally belongs to Nordland. Johanna gently pushes back, which irritates Gosser, but acquiesces to send someone to investigate. The dinner ends in an uneasy quiet, the count clearly brooding over Johanna's obstinance. Still, he loudly declares that we shall go hunting tomorrow, expecting Torgil to fell even more prey than him (a dangerous proposition). 

As we leave the dining room, I quietly signal to Uri that we'd like a chat. We meet him soon thereafter. He opens by saying "we're not going to war with Nordland" in quite the decisive voice that lets us know he sees the matter as settled and not something we need to discuss. Johanna starts opening her mouth, but shuts it again when I give her elbow a gently jostle (a signal we've developed). 

Uri wants to know more about wrecker's point, so we share everything we know. He thinks for a moment, before saying we should leave for the point at once, ignoring the hunt. Once again with the jostle, I nod at him and we retire to our quarters. Once inside, I argue that we should use this opportunity to both escape another day of Gosser trying to convince Johanna to do his bidding, and more importantly, test how much sway Uri has over the count. I suspect he's at least as much Gosser's mother's man - or perhaps he's got an agenda of his own. After some discussion, Johanna reluctantly agrees, to the protests of the others. 

Travel and dreams

We quickly depart, get back to Salzenmund and make preparations to leave. The journey to the point goes fast and without any drama. 

When we arrive at Liehafen we find out that Dunkelkeifer has been swallowed by mist, and no one's heard from anyone in there since. Everyone just avoids the place now. I am entirely unsurprised. 

My strategy for dealing with this journey has been pretty simple: suppress everything. Don't give whatsherface a single thought. It's worked surprisingly well. 

Or it did, until Eldur approaches me the morning after. He's sweating, hair even more disheveled than normal, a wild look in his eyes. He confesses he's had dreams...ever since he set foot on the ship taking us here. The look of fear in his eyes fills my heart with dread. He asks if he can show me...I nod imperceptibly, steeling myself. 

He murmurs and gestures gently towards me, and a small flame dances from his fingertip and slowly fills my vision, revealing his dream. 

Eldur finds himself standing before a great tower made of black stone, its walls cracked and pulsating with unnatural energy. The skies above swirl with chaotic colors, twisted and wrong, as lightning strikes the tower repeatedly but does no damage. He knows this place, yet he has never seen it—an edifice raised by the power of Chaos, born from his own ambitions and corruption.

He steps forward, drawn toward the tower against his will, feeling a magnetic pull. As he ascends the winding staircase, he hears whispers all around him, promising knowledge, power, and dominion. With every step, his body feels heavier, as if the weight of his future is pressing down upon him. His bright robes are slowly turning dark, his staff warping and crackling with unnatural energy.

At the top of the tower, he sees a figure seated on a twisted throne of black iron—himself. This version of him is fully transformed, a Chaos Sorcerer, his once bright flames replaced by swirling tendrils of dark magic. Eldur’s eyes meet the eyes of this future self, and he is filled with dread. The sorcerer on the throne smiles, raising a hand to cast a terrible spell, and Eldur can feel the pull of destiny dragging him closer to that seat of corruption.

"All flames burn out," the sorcerer whispers, "except those that embrace the darkness."

A choice

I'm jerked back into reality, and recoil from Eldur's stupid little flame. "Brother", I scream, "this is what you've been dreaming of - and you say NOTHING before now?!? Have you lost what little flipping mind you had left???!??" 

Admirably, Eldur takes my outburst in stride, the only hint of anger a slight tightening around his lips and a tiny glow of red in the bottom-left his right eye (a sure sign I doubt anyone else has noticed). 

I manage to gain control of my temper again (it's more an Ara- thing than an Aqhsy thing), and we discuss how to handle this. I insist this means we have to turn around, anything else would be the height of stupidity. We end up agreeing that we should talk to Johanna first, so I go get her. I tell her what Eldur's been dreaming rather than him showing her - I'm not sure how that would have ended, no matter how unorthodox of a witch hunter she is. 

Johanna's angry as well - but more because we've come all this way and now decide that we can't go. Even though I don't tell her, to myself I admit that we should have seen something like this coming - why wouldn't Malice try to influence Eldur, once he's within her grasp again? She must really see the potential in him...

Johanna insists we discuss this with the rest of the group. As it turns out, that mostly means me and Johanna yelling while the others listen or try to get a word in edgewise. I use absolutely every trick up my rhetorical sleeves to try to convince everyone, and Torgil actually sort of agrees with me, recalling Malice's power up north. But Johanna is steel, and steel doesn't break easily. I wish I could use Eldur's stupid trick to let everyone see the desperation within me at the thought of losing my twin to this ancient evil! I don't fear death - but losing him to chaos, THAT I fear. 

Eldur sits quietly for most of the time. In the end, he takes my hand, strokes it gently, and hushes me in a way that our mother used to do. It works - and he says that we should go on and take our chances. We are much stronger now than last time. At that, I relent...but get the others to agree not to charge into the mist head on, at least. We'll follow the mist south and meet the elves first, to see if we can get any information. 

A familiar feeling

The first day and night pass uneventfully. In the morning though, a familiar feeling creeps up on us...that of utter doom and apathy. Looking back, it's almost hard to describe the feeling. It's akin to trying to swim in a bog, the fetid waters and mud dragging you down, with no way forwards. 

After a few hours, we meet a hunter named Harold. He tells us the land around Dunkelkeifer started transforming some months back. There's no mist further north - it doesn't extend very far beyond the town. Apparently there's a character called Kaspar Ganzer in Wulfhaven who's researching the mist. Sounds like one of brother dearest's favorites from the Celestial Order. 

After walking most of the day, we meet the wall of mist. It looks like a literal wall, formed like a giant snowball. Eldur flies up to get a better overview, and reports that the mist extends all around the town. We walk south like planned, our steps heavy as lead. 

After around two days, the despair eases up. At night, we camp close by the forest. Torgil walks towards the edge - and after a few hours, I see several shapes suddenly spring up around him - elves. They talk, before he brings them towards us. The conversation goes much as I imagine most conversations between humans and elves have gone over the centuries - the elves haughty, us trying to explain something, them not caring much. They tell us this is a "human problem" that will eventually go away. 

They do seem to care somewhat about Malice further corrupting something they call a waystone (magical ley lines? as if that helps) though...and give us 6 amulets they say will protect our "fragile" (I have a feeling the correct translation is more like "feeble") human minds. When pushed a bit further, their leader relents, looks Eldur square in the eyes and says Malice is here to "retrieve a soul who has broken an oath". I almost fall to my knees at this - I was right all along!! And here we are, serving up the lamb to the slaughter. I laugh harshly, calling us all fools for playing along. Johanna just looks at me, equal parts steel and pity. I prefer the steel. 

Preparations

We make our way to Wulfhafen in five days. The elven amulets work like a charm - we only feel the normal amount of despair travelling north. 

We meet the celestial mage at the only inn in town. He's been in the mist once, where a lightning that was decidedly unnatural killed his assistant Jorn. After that, he's taken to doing "readings" from afar. Eldur huffs at this, not impressed by this timid scholar. 

I suggest to Johanna that we should bring more...troops to face off against the fimir than the 10 we already have. Malice herself is one thing, but we're likely to face quite a few of her formidable foot troops. It would be a shame if we got killed before we even faced. Johanna acquiesces, and we manage to rally 25 of the local soldiers and around 30 villagers. These are tough people, reminding me much of Norscans. There may be an ocean separating them from our birthplace, but we have more in common than separates us. Well, except the chaos worship thing. 

Into the mist

We organize the brave men and women accompanying us into squads of four, lead by those among us with some leadership or military skills, or preferably both. Johanna delivers a rousing speech (she's getting better!), and the villagers actually seem bolstered by the though of ridding the land of this blight. It's better they don't know exactly what they'll be facing, as I fear that would rob even these tough bastards of their courage. 

We walk into the mist. Quickly, the surrounds become much like the swamp in Norsca, thick leather cloaks discarded before they come back on to protect from the stinging insects descending on us. We walk half a day without incident, when suddenly we hear the sound of thunder close by. Eldur looks into the distance, his gaze clearly looking into the other world. His brows furrow, and he says "sister, tell the people to spread out - now!", before he starts chanting, flames surrounding him. The villagers' fear of the flames quickly dissipate as lightning strikes the first of them, stripping the flesh of their bones. 

We manage to spread out in a sort of organized chaos, the roar of the storm and Eldur's voice mixing together into an incomprehensible whole. The lightning dances around me as we run, taking a life here, blackening an arm there. And as quickly as it started, it's over. Eldur's voice drowns out the thunder, and silence descends, but for the cries of the wounded. I see Johann gaze at my brother with newfound respect in his eyes - it's clear to us all that his might has grown considerably as of late. No wonder Malice wants him. 

Before we know it, the fimir strike, using our imagined disarray to their advantage. Luckily, we had managed to keep most of the soldiers and militia together, so we're not that badly prepared. 

We face off against around 20 fimir and 3 sorcerers. The battle is quick and vicious, with no quarter spared on either side. Torgil and me blind and stun 2 of the sorcerers with solid hits from our bows (honestly, these elven bows feel like cheating!), Eldur contains all of their magics by himself. The rest of the battle is but a blur to me now, but in the end we emerge victorious. None of our party has been felled, but around half of the villagers are gone and more are wounded. 

We patch up our wounds. I hear a hiss from Eldur's breath, as the mist quietly parts and reveals the ziggurat of Malice. Our doom or hers awaits - there will be no in between.