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AU Synopsis:

Following the death of Gertrude Robinson, Michael Shelley—marked heavily by the Spiral and the Web—finds himself holding the archivist role. By his side is his tether, a woman from the Lukas family whom he credits as the only reason he survived Zemlya Sannikova, albeit not unchanged; in his employ are a young man from the research department, another from the library, and a young woman from artifact storage.

Michael does his job, but he doesn't deny resentment of the place that allowed him to nearly die to the monster from his childhood, which begs the question: why did he accept the archivist role?

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around-a-campfire

I.

In the back of a shallow cave at the foot of the Spine of the World Mountains, not far from the dangerous Lurkwood, a small campfire burns and crackles, illuminating the cave and the faces of the three adventurers huddled around it.

The first, a tiefling with skin a dusty raspberry red and long, glossy maroon hair, sits with one of their legs stretched out before the fire. They alternate between humming quietly and whistling while filing each of their hard claw-like nails to a dangerous point. They occasionally cast a sidelong glance to the second of the group, a young half-eladrin with summery blonde waves and a small mole under the corner of her mouth; sitting close to the fire for light and to keep her ink from freezing in the cold, she pores over and scribbles in her thick, leatherbound notebook that seems on the verge of gaining another few pages; from her left ear hangs a crystal, teardrop-shaped and seemingly smoked black, with flashes of deep red and fiery orange, contrasted sharply with bright green against the dark backdrop.

The third and final member of the group, a little black kobold wearing small round glasses perched on his wide dragonoid nose and tinkering with a something in his lap, points suddenly to a spot nearer the mouth of the cave, where rages a howling snowstorm, and barks in a rough accent: "An'! Circle!"

The eyes of the tiefling, whose name is Nowhere Bryseis, lock onto Anwyn (the half-eladrin above mentioned) as she jumps to her feet almost as a compulsion upon the sight of the obviously magical ring of mushrooms nearer the mouth of the cave, as pointed out by the kobold Klank.

"Anwyn." Nowhere grips their walking stick and gets to their feet before Anwyn has the time to step foot into the circle of mushrooms. "You just got back."

It's an argument against heeding the summons of her patron, Anwyn realizes. "Aye, but if he needs me, then he needs me."

"What for?”

Klank swivels between looking up at Nowhere—tall and and at Anwyn, watching the growing argument with mild interest, fidgeting harder the longer the trio stays in the cave; Klank does not like caves.

Anwyn frowns, then turns away from Nowhere. "We'll talk more later." And she steps into the fey circle, and then the group is down to two.

With a shrug and with the show over for now, Klank returns to his tinkering.

Nowhere grunts unceremoniously and eases themself back to the floor of the cave, laying their walking stick across their lap. With an absentminded flourish, the tiefling pulls a roll of seemingly unremarkable parchment from their pack and unravel it, then hold it at various angles to the fire, eyes sharp and focused.

The parchment was recovered from the remains of a burnt-down home some villages to the south, and Nowhere is yet to uncover its secrets; surely it has at least some, as the roll was found to be entirely unharmed and unblemished despite its location in what appeared to have been the office of the home, where the fire seemed to have burned hottest.

Without another moment’s hesitation, the tiefling casts Detect Magic on the parchment.