into the felfire and flames - 3
Eirka sits cross-legged on a crate, resting his elbows on his knees as he recounts the Convocation adventuring party’s experience in the Highborne ruins: the broken dagger, the spirits’ warning, their encounter with the dreadlord. He’s back in Ras’s Underbelly alcove now, nursing the remnant consequences with some small consternation.
The merchant’s folding desk is perhaps piled even higher with its assorted papers and notes than it was on Eirka’s previous visit. Ras leans against the desk with his arms crossed, brow knit as he reviews the latest addition. “Spellsong was certain none of you had been affected long-term by the dreadlord’s influence?”
“He dismissed the idea pretty quickly.” Eirka shrugs. “I’ll drop in on Ryth later, ask him to take a look to be sure. Get his read on what happened. The Magister was definitely more interested in what our baddie might be up to elsewhere, though.”
“Right. A Pre-Sundering demon seal conveniently missing any warnings against some group of idiots wandering in and grabbing it. Who leaves something like that lying around without any kind of secondary protections? Anyone can open a door with the right key.” Eirka scowls and makes a sharp gesture towards the ceiling–and the magical city above them. “Even the Kirin Tor knows better than that. Take away their guards and the Violet Hold would still be a pain to get through, probably.”
“Pre-Sundering demon seal, Pre-Sundering construction,” Ras points out dryly. He reaches over to retrieve a different notebook and flips through several pages of notes and diagrams. “Any original secondary wards likely faded out centuries ago. It’s a wonder the chamber was still standing after being abandoned for so long, really.”
“And here I thought the Highborne were supposed to be all powerful super-mages,” Eirka mutters. He leans over, stretching out a hand to grasp for the page on their ill-fated adventure. His fingers snag the edge and he sits back to scan the last few paragraphs.
“Even the Titans’ work doesn’t last forever.” Ras turns his notebook around to reveal a page of sketched runes and incomplete arcane circles. “The runes you found, did they look anything like this?”
“Something like that, yeah. I’ll see if I can get my hands on the actual artifacts, get you a copy of what they say.”
“I’d appreciate that. In the meanwhile, I’ll put out some feelers, see if I can pick up anything about where our dreadlord might be hiding. There’s enough demons causing havoc on Azeroth as it is; the last thing we need is another one.”
“Do me a favor and see if you can’t find anything else about the Magister Spellsong, too. Probably he’s genuine about wanting to stop the Legion, but…”
Eirka returns his notes to the desk, giving Ras a wry look. “But, y’know: So do you.”