Chapter 120: 7.5 – The Gates of Tarin-Tiran

Robin winced as he massaged his feet. A hot stone, enchanted with a simple heating charm, glowed cheerily in the fireplace at his back. It lacked the crackle and flicker and comfort of a real fire, but the heat was welcome on his aching muscles. He was almost tempted to use a [Healing Note] to remove the last of his discomfort, but held off. They were still camped in dangerous territory, even if Ruprecht’s demesne around them meant the dungeon should be acting as a highly effective early warning system.

She exploded into flaming butterflies? That is not a magical effect I can say I’ve encountered before.

Ruprecht was taking quite the interest in their encounter. The rest of the party was interested as well, but not to the degree the dungeon was. They’d all heard of wild magic before, in stories and guildhall whispers at least.

‘Wild magic can take almost any form at all.’ Drev was pacing near the western wall. “It’s a wondrous and dangerous thing.”

‘It turned the hamlet of Thrommlet into pudding,’ Vance said from the chair where he was paring his nails with a deceptively sharp piece of paper.

‘That’s an old bard’s tale,’ Drev said, dismissing the thought with a flick of his fingers.

‘There’s documentation in the library,’ Vance countered.

‘Before this turns into an absolutely fascinating argument,’ Jhess interrupted, ‘can we get back to the point?’

‘Which is?’ Robin wasn’t quite sure anymore.

‘That we’re going to have to be much more careful luring patrols here if all of their mages explode like that when stressed,’ Savra said.

Leave it to the diviner to keep an eye on salient bits of information.

‘It’s wild magic,’ Drev protested, ‘they can’t all do that! It would be too predictable.’

‘True,’ Vance agreed.

‘Just my luck,’ Robin muttered.

Perhaps the wand can provide some additional insight.

The rest of the party looked at Robin expectantly. The bard sighed and plucked the wand from his storage space. Might as well let Ruprecht have it his way. It’s not like he hadn’t already exhausted his creativity and his [Bardic Lore] trying to activate the thing. Nothing had worked. Robin didn’t think it worked without the collar.

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‘Here.’ He tossed it to the ground.

The landed with a bit of a ringing sound from the metal used in its construction. The party watched as it glimmered for a moment, then dissolved into the ground as Ruprecht ‘ate’ it.

There was a curious lightness that came though the air then, as the dungeon’s attention was absorbed almost completely by the new acquisition. Jhess passed out another round of drinks and Robin jazzed them all up with [Lesser Phantasm] cooling them with [Legerdemain].

Magic was awesome.

‘What concerns me more than the possibility of more wild mages,’ Vance said after a long pull at his drink, ‘is that we have yet to see much of the clerical sort with the patrols.’

‘Isn’t that a good thing?’ Jhess asked. ‘Less healing, easier fights.’

‘Possibly,’ Vance said, ‘but otherwise the units we’ve faced so far have been remarkably balanced. Almost like adventuring parties or military patrols. Something here feels off. Like there’s a missing element.’

‘I agree,’ Savra chimed in. ‘It is hard to see anything in this city, for some reason, but what fragments of visions that have come to me point to something important happening.’

‘What have you seen?’ Jhess leaned in.

It was unlike the rogue to take an interest, but Savra had helped them sort out true treasure form false, so perhaps Jhess associated the seeress’s visions with wealth.

‘As I said, it was mostly fragments, but some images do recur.’ Savra frowned. ‘I have seen a cracked mirror filled with mist and something moving within the vapours. I have seen a rotating spiral of teeth, and an endless expanse of stars. I have seen an iron fist with rust-red nails, clenching spasmodically. What any of it means, I am not sure. My lady has been enigmatic of late, even for her.’

A debate sparked up amongst the party as to what the images might mean, but before Robin could dive in, he got a hint of his own, likely stemming from that last, import-laden image.

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