Welcome to The Watch!
Icon by @pistachioIan!
| New? Start Here! | Official AU Spotify Playlists | Taglist | Lore Masterlist | Read on Google Drive | Watchers of Duilintinn Wiki Page [under construction] | Prompt Guidelines | Meet Your Watchers | Meet the Bard | Join Our Discord! |
I will be brief, for all are busy preparing for what is to come.
As I'm sure many of you already know, more magical records, pamphlets, and other evidence of IRIS's doings have been discovered by The Watch since the discovery that Lord Brody has been last seen in their captivity.
Most of this evidence simply confirms what was already known, or remains to vague to indicate more than a rising aura of dread.
In the last two days, however, these pamphlets have begun containing numbers. Two days ago, it was a three. Yesterday, it was a two.
It stands to reason that today will be one, and tomorrow, Hallows Eve - a night of tragedy and horror for so many years of Duilintinn's fight against The Enemy - will be zero.
Keep The Watch, and good luck to all of us.
With Anticipation,
Bard Emily Keyes
Written to Fellow Members of the Watch in the Tenth Month of the Year One Thousand Six Hundred and Seventeen.
This last week has been rife with discoveries, theories, and fires to match the heights of the months of Mayhem years ago. To cover every one of these theories would be an exercise in futility; indeed, my attempt to do so is why this report is a week late. Instead, I shall endeavor to focus on the facts, context, and most widely agreed-upon implications of these events.
As I am sure you all know, on October 5th, King Sean released an entire collection of magical records to The Watch, all of which depicted scenes taking place within the group calling itself IRIS. King Sean did not reveal where or when these records were discovered, and all we know of the circumstances of their creation is that they depict events taking place sometime after January of this year, based on paperwork briefly shown in one of the records.
Lord Brody
Most notably, of course, these records also showed Lord Brody, locked away within the same IRIS location. At the present, it is unclear whether Lord Brody reached out to IRIS of his own volition, though whatever the case, he was clearly forced to remain against his will.
Based on brief conversations heard within the records, it seems as though Lord Brody sought answers to the strange teleportation he experienced while investigating a Fae Garden in the Western Forest nearly three years ago. In turn, it seems as though IRIS have accused Lord Brody of killing someone, but who?
Time Magic
Additionally, these records offer a new glimpse into IRIS’s goals and methods. Several signs can be seen throughout the records, including one warning viewers of “alters” and another calling a specific alter a “time stealer.”
Time magic is widely considered to be impossible within the Mortal Realm, but is an established feature of the Fae Realm. Even Fae Gardens can be affected, with those who enter such liminal places emerging with the impression that far more or less time has passed relative to the world outside.
However, these magical effects are all intrinsic features of a location, not something that can be controlled at will. Even the Fae Folk have never demonstrated such ability when visiting the Mortal Realm, though of course, that does not necessarily mean they do not have the ability.
A large portion of The Watch’s theories in the wake of these records revolve around this “time thief,” with some believing it to be The Enemy himself. After all, it would not be the first time The Enemy has demonstrated unnatural abilities that should be unique to the Fae Realm. Moreover, the use of time magic would likely explain the long absences of the Missing Lords, particularly how some of them have seemingly not aged a day since their initial disappearances over a decade ago.
Alters
As for the mention of “alters,” these have only existed in myths and rumors. Also known as simulacrum, alters are beings that take the form of a familiar person and seek to integrate themselves into that person’s life without anyone being the wiser. While the specific origin of these tales is hard to pinpoint, they almost certainly developed in reaction to the discovery of The Enemy’s ability to control others, what we now refer to as “puppets.”
Most modern tales of alters do not fully align with what we know of The Enemy’s abilities, but rather evolved from misinformation and rumors during the era where little was known of The Enemy’s unnatural magic. Indeed, most myths about alters are closer to depictions of malevolent Fae Folk, who do possess the ability to change their appearance and will at times attempt to mess with the lives of mortals.
It is most likely that IRIS has co-opted the phrase “alter” from these myths to describe a similar real-world phenomenon. Whether that is indeed The Enemy, some sort of Fae Magic, or another unknown being entirely, it's hard to say.
However, the use of new terminology is interesting, as it implies that this is a new concept. This would be self-explanatory if indeed these alters are something never before seen by The Watch, but if IRIS is using “alter” to describe The Enemy or even Fae Folk, that would imply their origins are outside of The Watch, who already have existing terminology for these beings. Indeed, perhaps IRIS originates outside of Duilintinn entirely, although that would raise even more questions than it answers.
Disaster at IRIS
Lastly, the final records in the collection give additional context to the chaotic records discovered by The Watch in the past few weeks. As suspected, something went terribly wrong within IRIS, with at least a handful of casualties. Bloody footprints, scientists being grabbed through doorways, and- unnervingly familiar- dark hallways illuminated by red light.
The latter, of course, has led many Watchers to believe that The Enemy himself is the source of the attack, though that is not the only possibility. Indeed, if these “alters” are a being yet undiscovered by The Watch, perhaps the attacker is one such alter. However, that would not explain the uncanny resemblance to the magical records depicting Lord Brody’s encounter with The Enemy nearly a decade ago.
Lord Brody’s fate in the aftermath of this attack is unknown, but little can be done without further information. Watchers have scoured Duilintinn for any sign of IRIS’s hideout without success, making a rescue attempt impossible.
Final Notes
In the days since the records were released, a few other notable events occurred. King Sean acknowledged Lord Brody in a written declaration, including a picture of his appearance from within the records.
Additionally, The Enemy’s name day passed with nary a mention of his name, something which the more superstitious within The Watch have called “tempting fate,” particularly when the king responded with a written message simply saying, “Did I miss anything today?”
Something is brewing on the horizon, and it is likely that more information about this IRIS entity will to surface in the near future. In the meantime, we must continue to be on alert, be open to new knowledge from outside sources, and as always, Keep The Watch.
With Anticipation,
Bard Emily Keyes
Written to Fellow Members of The Watch in the Tenth Month of the Year One Thousand Six Hundred and Seventeen
(Don't worry, a post is coming regarding yesterday's video. I just keep rewriting it and starting over and finding new details so it may take another day between all the adulting I have to do 😂)
The past few days have been rife with discoveries about the mysterious group calling itself IRIS. In less than a week, two magical records were discovered that originated from this entity.
The first was brief, merely ten seconds that mostly consisted of darkness and the magically amplified sound of an alarm. A brief view of what looked to be a sign appears from the point of view of the mage responsible for creating the record, featuring a rather unnerving image of a tentacled monster with instructions to “Don’t stop, don’t look, don’t listen, just keep going.” In the rightmost peripheral, the corner of the IRIS insignia can be seen.
Interestingly, this first record was released to The Watch by King Sean himself, with no further context as to where or when it was discovered. The “when,” in particular, has been the source of speculation within The Watch. Many suspect the record to be weeks old, connecting it to a pamphlet reporting on an temporary issue that would impact IRIS’s “services,” likely referring to the “security enchantment” announced little over a month ago.
The second of the two records was discovered yesterday by members of The Watch who were attempting to track down the source of IRIS’s pamphlet distribution network. Instead of finding more pamphlets, they discovered another short Magical Record, roughly double in both length and mysteries when compared to the first.
A sheen of magical interference covers the entire record. While some of it vaguely resembles that of The Enemy’s magical signature, the identification is tentative at best. The Watch’s best guess is that this record was an attempt to depict one of IRIS’s “security enchantments” at work, only to fall victim to Magical Records’ tendency to distort in the presence of other magic. Thus, most of the record consists solely of static, with only a handful of images visible for mere fractions of a second.
Of these images, the most concerning one depicts what appears to be an interrogation room, furnished with a table flanked by two chairs and a bed pushed against the back wall. Worse still, a pile of dark fabric is laid out on the bed in an unnervingly human-like shape, akin to the look of a burial shroud. Due to the state of the record, it is impossible to tell if there is indeed a body under the fabric, or if it is simply a blanket carelessly tossed into such an unfortunate shape by the bed’s prior occupant upon awakening.
Like the previous record, alarms can be heard, though far quieter and intermixed with other noises that are extremely difficult to distinguish. Some sort of howling sounds towards the end, though it's impossible to tell if it originates from wind, beast, or a person’s cries.
Notably, King Sean also released the record to The Watch at almost the exact moment that it was discovered. Seemingly, at least two copies of the record were created, with one being discovered by members of The Watch, and the other by the king’s own investigation. Both records are identical, suggesting that they are indeed copies of one another, rather than a different record created by someone else at the scene.
Little can be extrapolated from these records, except that IRIS is indeed messing with something strange, and that something terrible may have happened during one of their operations. It seems unlikely now that IRIS is an offshoot of The Watch, at least not one that aligns with our values, but that remains to be seen. These are strange times, and we cannot take The Enemy’s strange silence for granted. Until more is known, we must do as we have always done, and Keep The Watch.
With Anticipation,
Bard Emily Keyes
Written to Fellow Members of The Watch in the Tenth Month of the Year One Thousand Six Hundred and Seventeen
Drew a little something at work in honor of Henrik's birthday. It's not much, but here, have a little notebook sketch of Watch AU's Sam, Henrik, and Sean (implied):
Last part I have for now! Jon Quillian belongs to @marginmaster87, and Morgana belongs to @shamrockace
Bard's Note: THE BIGGEST PREESH TO EVERYONE WHO WAS INVOLVED IN THIS AND ESPECIALLY @theshapeshifter100 WHO WROTE ALL THIS UP!
---
Jon had been quiet through the whole thing. “…Do you want to talk about it?” he asked weakly. There wasn’t much else to ask in this scenario.
“…Not really,” Ivy went to yank her spear out of the ground. It was wedged in, so it took a couple of tries. “Just needed to get that out,” she added, looking over at Jon, dusting off the spearhead. “The Guard didn’t work out for you in the end, did it?”
“No. It would have taken too long. I prefer to roam where I want anyway,” he went into a ready stance.
Ivy gave a small grin. “I can understand that,” she took her stance and struck with the spear, poking him in the arm. He swept the poking spear aside and leapt forwards. Ivy tried to recover but his sword knocked the spear away and he kicked at her legs.
Ivy stumbled back, surprised but holding her spear out in front. She took a few seconds to recover her balance and swung it to knock into his legs, and as he stumbled continued to spin around for a light stab.
His next swing went wide and Ivy leaned back to avoid it, before striking downwards with both hands on the spear. He dodged and struck out, the flat side of the blade hitting Ivy’s ribs.
It knocked her to one side, and her next strike missed wildly.
“You know, you’re not too bad with that after all,” it was almost like a lever had been pulled in his head.
“Thanks. You’re pretty decent yourself,” he struck out and down, using his height to his advantage
“You better hope I am, although the sword is my usual weapon,” Ivy blocked and shoved up before striking up towards his ear, just grazing it. “You do have the size advantage of course.”
“Maybe you could enchant a sword too, just in case,” his next strike was a bit worse, but Ivy did have to dodge it. In that dodge she managed to trip over her own feet and stagger backwards.
“Not a chance! It took me the trip here to get used to the new magic level I have to work with! I’m not doing that again so soon!” she recovered and the point of the spear tapped him on the left side of his ribs.
“Well, then it’s a good thing you’re good at stabbing. Maybe we can try team battles against the others next,” he brought the sword down, realised the height difference, and lightly tapped her on the head.
“If we have time. I’d prefer not to sleep in the Forest if I can help it,” Ivy shoved the spear shaft up and twisted it around to trap the sword before lashing out with a kick.
“You think we’ll find the Fae that quick?” he freed his sword, leapt back and jabbed again.
“I don’t know. I hope so. I read something about how, if you sleep in a Fae Garden, which is what the Forest is, then the Fae can mistake you for a dead body and use your parts for Changelings. Might wake up with a rock instead of a leg.”
Jon’s sword jab got through and Ivy winced before trying to swat it away with the blunt end. Jon laughed as he ducked away from the swipe at her shoulder.
“If that’s true, then how come we can sleep just fine on Hallow’s Eve night?”
Ivy blocked the swipe. “Because we’re usually in a human settlement. If we’re out in the countryside, then there’s a risk.”
“That’s ridiculous. Do you think a faery like the ones you saw would care if there was a wall between them and what they wanted?” he swiped again.
“It’s not so much caring, it’s just they think you’re dead and therefore open to harvest. If you’re in a house or an inn or something, then you’re not dead and not worth the trouble, I suppose,” Ivy dodged the swipe and attempted to sweep Jon’s feet, but he just managed to jump over it.
“Maybe one of us can stay awake while the others sleep, to tell off any Fae who come around.”
“Keeping watch in general just sounds like a good idea,” Ivy deadpanned.
Ivy spun quickly back up from the sweep, and used the turning momentum to slam the shaft into Jon’s side. At a sparring strength, of course.
“Oof!” he stumbled back and fell to the ground. Ivy backed off to let him get up.
Jon moved like he was going to his feet, but suddenly dropped his sword and tackled her legs.
“Mother-!” Ivy went down, dropping her spear. “Clever shit!” she half yelled, half laughed as she struggled to get him off. In this case, the size advantage was a bit too great.
Jon also laughed. “Down doesn’t have to mean out!”
“Never said it did!” Ivy tried to struggle out, but ended up futily hitting him on the back, slowly wiggling her shoulders. He held her down, getting a better grip against her torso as she struggled.
“Okay, this is going nowhere,” she sighed. She then began to wriggle her shoulders violently, almost slamming them into him and breaking Jon’s grip.
“Ouch! Nice one!” he rolled off and jumped back up. He didn’t pick up his sword. “How about we wrestle for a bit?”
Ivy propped herself up on her elbows. “Not exactly a fair fight, you’re what, twice my size?”
“Come on, I’m smaller than most guys,” he had a point, in that while he was tall, he was also wiry rather than broad. Less bulky than Gus, although the last time she’d wrestled with Gus he was fifteen. Although, Jon was sixteen…
Ivy got to her feet. “Well then, let’s give it a go.”
“Alright!” Jon dropped to a decent wrestling crouch, and Ivy matched it, feeling nostalgia creep in.
When was the last time she’d done this? With Gus, honestly. He was the last person she’d wrestled with. This might not go as well as she’d thought.
“Ready!” she called, before charging in to tackle his knees. To her surprise he easily sidestepped and grabbed the back of the shirt. He then used the momentum to throw her forward onto the ground.
Ivy sprawled on the dirt but was quickly back up. Okay, she was evidently out of practice. That was fine. On her next attack she feinted to one side and tackled again.
Jon took the brunt of the force, pushed her away and began to circle again. Ivy recovered quickly, but didn’t attack immediately, circling as well. He was clearly expecting her to go for the knees, it made sense, she was significantly shorter and it was a good buckle point. Still, it clearly wasn’t going to work.
She pretended to go for the knees again, but at the last second darted behind him and jumped on his back.
“Oof!” Jon stood up to his full height with Ivy on his back like a child trying for a piggyback. He just let her go.
She landed and staggered, almost falling as pain shot up her ankles. She took advantage of being behind him, and bear-hugged his waist before kicking at his knees.
He dropped, but reached over his shoulder to grab and flip her over his back. Ivy flew over him and landed on her back, the wind getting knocked out of her with a wheeze.
“Out, of, practice,” she wheezed in a weak defence. Jon chuckled breathlessly and backed off to a safe distance to let her get up.
Ivy didn’t move, just laying there for a few more seconds. “How about we call it a night?” she wasn’t suggesting that because she was losing, of course not!
“So, you admit defeat?” Jon smiled cheekily.
Ivy didn’t answer immediately, just slowly raising her arm to flip him the bird.
He burst out laughing and offered her a hand up, which she took and Jon hauled her up.
“Seriously though,” she said once upright, “going to bed is a good idea, don’t want to wear ourselves out before we leave tomorrow.”
“Yeah, probably a good point. Want to grab a snack beforehand?”
“Yeah, sounds good,” Ivy collected her spear from the ground, while Jon sheathed his sword and headed for the kitchens.
Ivy followed, and when they entered dinner was long since done. Only a few Watchers were milling around, talking in low voices. Several portions of bread and cups of water were sitting on the counter, and Ivy grabbed the water first, propping her spear against the wall.
Jon grabbed his own water and a large slice of bread, which he tore into greedily.
“Growing boy I see,” Ivy commented between sips of water.
He gave her a light punch on the shoulder. “It’s not me that needs growing.”
“Oh. Oh I see how it is,” Ivy put her water down and stood on the nearest chair. Jon had the nerve to giggle through his mouthful of bread. “I’m still taller than you now,” Ivy folded her arms.
“Oh yeah?” he swallowed his bread and stood on a chair himself. “What about now?”
That was when Morgana wandered into the kitchen, and paused to stare at Ivy and Jon in mild confusion before grabbing some water. For once Eamon was not with her, but Caera was sitting on her shoulder, watching the two fighters with her beady bird eyes.
Jon noticed her staring and put his hands on his hips, as though standing on a conquered beast. Meanwhile Ivy continued the childish dispute and stood on the table.
“Hey Morgana,” she said, not looking away from Jon. “Can’t sleep?”
Morgana struggled not to flinch from being directly addressed before responding cryptically.
“I guess you could say that…” she had faint soot marks on her clothes.
Meanwhile Jon stepped up on to the table beside Ivy, who glared up at him. “Oooo, mysterious. What happened?”
“Late night pyromancy?” Ivy asked, wondering how she was going to one up him in height now.
“No…?” Morgana eyed them suspiciously.
“Sleeping next to a candle then? You’ve got some black marks,” Ivy gestured roughly to where they were. She then looked up to see how high she’d have to jump to reach the rafters. Irritatingly, Jon followed her gaze, then reached up and touched a rafter with the tip of his finger.
He looked down triumphantly as Ivy glared.
Meanwhile, Morgana winced in reference to the question. “Sure let’s go with that. What are you two doing by the way?”
“Nothing much,” Ivy narrowed her eyes at Jon. “I will climb up you like a squirrel if I have to,” she hissed.
“Do it,” Jon maintained eye contact with Ivy. “See you in the morning, Morgana!”
“Oh I’m not heading back to bed yet.”
Ivy half heard that, as she successfully leapt at Jon and clung to him. She was not successful in climbing up him however, so was left dangling from his clothes.
“Enjoying the show?” she asked Morgana.
“I don’t blame you. It’s very entertaining,” Jon smiled cheekily down at Ivy, who scowled up at him and scrabbled up a few inches.
“It sure is…” Morgana blew a few stray hairs out of her face. Ceara chose this moment to fly off Morgana’s shoulder and circle the two on the table.
---
How many of the party are okay? Hard to say
Thanks for sticking with this, and hopefully it won't be months before another bunch comes through
Bard's Note: I can't remember who came up with it but the concept that Fae will just go "eh they must be dead I CALL DIBS" is the FUNNIEST THING to me and one of my favorite implications of the Fae lore. Also the answer is that none of them are okay let's be honest XD
Jon was already outside in the training field. It was dark now, the moon shining through the gaps in the trees and torches dotted around. It was warm and humid, which wasn’t ideal, but still, those would be the conditions inside the forest.
“You good to go, Jon?!” she called across to him. She should probably stretch a little if she was honest.
“As I’ll ever be!” he called back.
“Alright!” Ivy walked over to the training field, rolling her neck and shaking off her arms.
She took position on one side of the field, tossing the spear from one hand to the other before going into a ready stance.
Jon attempted his own stance, but it was a little loose. Ivy couldn’t help but notice.
“Sort your feet out, you’re too close.”
“Oh,” he spread them out a little. “Like this?”
“That’s it, if your feet are too close together you can be more easily unbalanced.”
“Ah, alright. Thanks. So how do we start?”
“How about…?” Ivy shot forward with a jab from her spear. She found that she quite liked the range on it. She half expected her magic to poke out, but it still seemed to recognise a sparring match.
“Holy-” Jon leapt back in surprise, barely blocking the strike with his sword.
“On your toes, soldier!” Ivy admonished, but only to tease - especially as she missed with the next strike.
“On your toes yourself!” Jon couldn’t come up with a retort quickly enough, but swung at Ivy’s legs. She danced away and lightly poked Jon in the side.
“How familiar are you with a sword?” she asked.
“I’m better at wrestling,” he admitted. “I almost beat Gus when I met him,” his next strike missed, and Ivy’s retaliation grazed his ribs before moving away.
“Then why did you make one?” she’d at least had some experience with a spear! And it was easy to make.
“I had some informal training three years after the attack. I was like, ten, though. I thought I would remember more of it.”
Jon’s eyes focused and he managed to swing in a nice arc close to Ivy’s shoulder. Her block missed, and she mentally cursed, partially because she hadn’t needed to waste energy blocking in the first place.
“And you didn’t think to ask for practice to make sure, in the five days it took to get here?”
Jon paused in place, considering. “Well, when you put it like that…”
His next jab had him stumbling over his feet, nearly falling over as Ivy narrowly dodged.
“What are we going to do with you?” she shook her head in that kind of adult way that was really annoying to any student. She then reached up behind Jon and bopped him on the head with the blunt end of the spear while he was recovering.
“What you’re going to do is put up with me. Otherwise I’m sending Beck after you,” his next jab was much better, using the momentum from standing to his full height and turned to face her from an odd angle.
Ivy blocked with the length of the spear and got out of range.
“I suppose I’ll have to, but know that I might not always be able to come to the rescue. Green’s okay with a sword and I have no idea what Morgana’s like, but those Fae found me easy.”
That made Jon pause, and he began to circle Ivy cautiously, looking for an opening.
“I mean, what else am I going to do?” he asked. “I have to get her back.”
Jon spotted his opening and jabbed at Ivy’s side. Her block half succeeded, deflecting most of the force but still getting tapped on the ribs.
“I know. I get it, I do. It’s my damn fault in the first place. I just, want to trust you to look after yourselves so no one else gets stuck there.”
“I will. I’ll fight with my bare hands if I have to,” Jon appeared deadly serious, and his seriousness led to a better strike against Ivy’s head. She didn’t get a block up in time as she staggered back, missing her next strike. There was a brief bloom of pain in her head, but Jon hadn’t hit hard.
“I believe you. It doesn’t make me worry any less though.”
“Don’t. Worry distracts you. It makes you vulnerable,” his next strike was weaker and bounced off Ivy’s spear as she blocked, but she missed her next strike anyway.
“How can I not? I’ve seen Green fight, and you seem to know what you’re doing, and Morgana… I’m sorry I know you’re both adults, but only just!” Morgana was seventeen and Jon was younger than that!
“I know. But you have to trust us. Otherwise, you’ll have too much to think about,” his next swing was almost perfect, seeming to flow around her spear to land with the point on her chest. “Please, trust me.”
Ivy held her spear vertically and used it to gently push the sword point to the side. “I want to, and you’re right. There’s too much to think about already. I just, I don’t want anyone else getting hurt,” that line was so cliché it was painful. “Last time I came in here I was supposed to protect your sister, that’s what she hired me for. And, well, that clearly fell down the well.”
“You did protect her. Think about it: she would have gotten kidnapped regardless. You being there is what’s going to save her, because without you, she would have been gone without a trace. But with you, we know what happened. We can find her.”
Ivy just… stared. She had not thought about it like that, and hadn’t realised how much she needed to hear it.
To her great embarrassment she felt the back of her throat burn. She screwed up her face and got into a ready stance, determined to just get lost in the sparring. Her stance broke down pretty quickly, her spear point dipping into the dirt.
“I needed to hear that,” she admitted quietly, trying and failing to keep her voice level.
Jon dropped his sword and put a hand on her shoulder. “You can cry,” he said quietly.
A million swear words flashed through Ivy’s mind. It wasn’t supposed to be happening, she was supposed to be in control of herself, this wasn’t…
A few tears did drop, but she scrubbed them away. “We’re supposed to be training.”
“Can’t train if you can’t see through tears.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she muttered without realising, and instantly regretted it. Damn the Guard. Damn the Coalition to obscurity and oblivion!
Jon’s brows knitted together in concern. “…What was the first time?”
“The Guard. The fucking Guard,” she growled. “Fuck, why now?! Why do I think about this shit now?!”
She backed away and flung her spear at one of the targets. It missed and landed in the ground, causing a surge of anger that made her roar into the night. It faded as quickly as it arrived, leaving Ivy breathing heavily.
--
You thought it would be a sparring match, surprise! It's emotions!
We were using dice I think for this, it's been a while, can't remember
Bard's Note: AHHHHH THIS MIGHT BE MY FAVORITE ONE SO FAR
Bit if a jump to the 23rd August 1614. Jon Quillian belongs to @maringmaster87, Green belongs to @autumnleafauthor, and Morgana @shamrockace
Bard's Note: Biggest preesh to @theshapeshifter100!
--
It took two and a half days to get to the Haven, just about a day to get to Fort Conchúr having ridden from dark to dark to make it. One more day to get to Monacoil, with one more day to the Roosts. They managed to swap out Green’s pony for a more robust horse along the way.
The four reached the Roosts near dark; tired and hungry. They stabled the horses and went to the kitchen, sitting around the same table. Candles flickered against the gloom and people chattered, making a warm and otherwise inviting atmosphere.
The group didn’t initially talk much as they got their food. Eamon sat by Morgana’s heel and Otto hopped about, looking to steal - relieve people of their unneeded food.
Morgana was reading an old looking book with faded writing on the cover, Jon kept looking at his sword, which now glowed softly red being this close to Ivy, and Green was scribbling in her journal, the charcoal stick beginning to blacken her fingers.
Ivy wanted to ask, for the thousandth time, if they were ready. She was willing to bet if she did, she would get food thrown at her. Her spear rested nearby, like Jon she didn’t want it too far away.
“So, any final words before tomorrow,” she asked anyway.
Green answered first. “I don’t really have any words to assign here. Just a growing feeling of uneasiness.”
“That’s fair.”
Ivy looked at Jon, who was gazing at his sword. “The sword’s not going to talk.”
“I wish it could,” Jon answered. “Maybe it could give some advice.”
Ivy was half tempted by now to just let Otto have her dinner, he seemed hungry at least. Morgana hardly looked up from her book, probably half listening.
“What would a sword say, I wonder?” Ivy asked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Probably, ‘hey! Don’t swing me like that!’” Jon chuckled.
Ivy laughed. “Yer doin’ it wrong! Why are you hittin’ me against armour? It ain’t gonna werk!”
Green chuckled at the weird voices they were doing before going back to eating and writing
Ivy’s brief good mood faded, and she continued with what was probably going to get food thrown at her.
“We know what we’re going to say. No promises, nothing certain. No deals if we can get away with it.”
The last bit wasn’t quite true. Ivy was willing to make a deal if she had to, since she was the one who had brought all of them together, since the whole thing was mostly on her. She saw it as her responsibility.
“If is the key word here…” Green emphasised.
“Well, yes. It’s still Fae, but hopefully what we have will be enough.”
Jon threw a piece of boiled potato at her, hitting her square in the face.
“Thanks for that,” she intoned dryly as it slid down her face. Otto croaked and plucked it off her chin before it could take the tumble onto her lap.
“Of course nothing is certain,” he cried. “Quit worrying. It just means you suffer twice.”
“If it were that easy, Jon, this world would be a better place,” Green said.
“We just have to be prepared if things go wrong,” Ivy defended as Otto tore at the piece of potato.
“And I would think we are as prepared as we could be,” Green assured.
“That’s fair,” Ivy looked over at Morgana, wanting to ask her something, but she seemed buried in her book.
“I really don’t know why, but I’m really nervous about this,” Green spoke. “Yes, we did everything we could, but that still means we’re going into the unknown.” She rested her journal on the table.
“It’s normal. This feels like it does before a fight, the ‘eve of battle’ if you will. That’s what it feels like to me,” Ivy paused. “Well, something like it, at least. Not done a planned battle before.”
“Hmm,” Green didn’t seem convinced.
“Morgana?” Ivy leaned back in her chair, trying to appear relaxed. “It occurs to me that I don’t know how a hagstone works? It’s supposed to protect from the Fae, right? How?”
Morgana jolted from her book, having lost track of the conversation and become enthralled by the book’s contents.
“Oh, uuh. Well, because the natural hole in them is formed in rivers, it’s believed to be imbued with the purest form of magic - allegedly - and because of that, it means Fae are highly susceptible to the power of such rare stones. Not only does this ‘pure magic’ ward off Fae and ‘evil spirits’, some sources claim looking through one can grant you temporary sight into the Fae Realm. Although I’m not sure quite how it works, as looking through it doesn’t do much if you’re not in a Fae Garden, in my experience.
“Oh, and because they’re so powerful, hagstones are very much wanted by Fae, so using them as an alternative to a soul in a Fae deal is said to sometimes work. According to a source I trust. But the source did also warn that trying to substitute a hagstone for a soul in a deal can be incredibly risky and might backfire instead, so it’s best to keep a hold of one as a warding instead of a bartering device.”
Morgana had barely seemed to take a breath during her mini lecture, and Ivy just blinked at the waves of information, trying to sort it in her head.
“How convenient, we acquired a walking encyclopaedia!” Green smiled gently, impressed with the knowledge, and Morgana hid behind her book, looking very embarrassed.
“…Okay, thanks for that,” Ivy must be tired because she wasn’t sure she’d gotten all of it. “So if I wear one, I can’t get kidnapped by Fae?”
“Uuuh, no, it doesn’t work like that, it wards them off, but it can’t reliably stop a Fae from coming near you - especially the more powerful ones…” she stopped for a second, and Ivy wondered if that was from experience. “I uh, don’t know how to explain it. It’s kinda like the hagstones make it difficult for them to find you or see your magical signature, and that makes it difficult to approach but it’s not impossible.”
“Quite interesting, definitely!” Green nodded enthusiastically. “Let’s hope it all works in our favour…”
“Okay, so it might actually make the ones we’re looking for harder to find?” Ivy’s thought process was clearly different to Green’s.
“Um, no, I don’t think so… It allegedly only affects ‘evil’ Fae or Fae that wish to do us harm or, uhh, similar such stuff,” Morgana answered.
“Okay, so hopefully Green’s friends aren’t evil then,” Ivy took a mouthful of stew, still not feeling hungry.
“They saved my life, I’m sure they can’t mean us a lot of harm!” Green protested.
“They saved you, doesn’t mean they’ll like the rest of us.”
“I mean, all Fae are capable of harm whether intentionally or not…” Morgana noted.
“Like everything else.”
Green grimaced. “Now don’t make me feel bad about our best hope…”
“Well there’s been plenty of documented helpful Fae too, just most of the recorded encounters are on the negative side of things… ‘Cause, y’know…” Ivy didn’t finish by saying that that’s often what people remember.
“I know. We can only hope.”
“True, true,” Ivy ate her stew, not sure what else to say. “Maybe we should call it an early night. Leave at dawn?”
“Sounds good to me,” replied Jon
“Aye,” was Green’s response.
“Morgana? Can you get up that early?” Ivy wasn’t looking forward to it, but she could do it.
Morgana made an offended noise. “Of course I can!”
“Just checking,” Ivy smiled teasingly.
“It’s a miracle you aren’t asking me!” Green grinned.
“Good point! Will you need a wakeup call? I’m sure Otto will be happy to!”
Green looked around warily for Otto, who was eating more stolen food in the rafters. “Under normal circumstances, I’d protest, but seeing as we have a mission to complete…”
“I don’t think I’ll even be able to sleep,” Jon admitted.
Otto flew back down to the table, ruffling his feathers, and let out a croak.
“No, I’m sure I can either,” Ivy agreed with Jon. “All the more reason to go early and try for as long as we can.”
“Indeed. Well, then. I wish you all as good a night as we can have,” Green stood up and gathered her journal.
Eamon nudged Morgana’s leg, and she, too, picked up her book and stood. “I think that’s Eamon telling me he wants me to go to sleep.”
“I think Eamon’s right,” Ivy picked up her bowl and drained the last of the broth. “I’ll be heading off to the barracks too,” she added, just as Jon asked:
“Alright. Ivy, want to help me practice my sword?”
Ivy paused. “Or I could do that. I can do that.”
“Whatever you feel like, it’s no problem.”
Ivy shrugged. “Might as well get some last minute practice in.”
“Alright,” Jon stood up.
Ivy grabbed her spear and also stood up. “I’ll meet you outside.”
“Alrighty then,” he started to walk that way.
“I’ll be off to bed,” Green yawned. “See you tomorrow!”
“G’night Green!” Ivy called, Morgana having already disappeared. She gripped her spear tight for a second before heading out of the kitchen. She wasn’t as familiar with it as her sword and shield, despite getting in some practice on the way here. So, practising now was a good idea.
IRIS once again rears its head, although this time, with an advertisement for a “security enchantment” named “Watcher,” of all things. Needless to say, The Watch is currently in an uproar, and not just because of the blatant mockery of the organization.
Far more concerningly, signs of The Enemy’s magic COVERED every copy of the advertisement. There is no doubt that his hand is at work here, but the question remains: is he attempting to mess with IRIS, or are they somehow associated with him?
On one hand, the advertisement makes no claims to be allied with The Enemy, and is addressed as if written by the members of this IRIS group. However, the features of their security enchantment are remarkably similar to some of The Enemy’s own unique powers.
Most notably, it claims to be able to detect changes in one’s health, emotions, and mind, only one of which should be possible without the use of otherworldly magical abilities (i.e. Fae Magic or abilities demonstrated by The Enemy), and none of which should be feasible for an enchantment to maintain for long periods as advertised.
IRIS claims this has been made possible through the use of an “Antimatter” generator. This term is primarily used in academic theories regarding the spaces beyond the Physical and Fae Realms. Thus, the phrase could be entirely ingenuous, though it is hard to believe that a group which only just entered the public eye a few months ago has suddenly surpassed every scholar of magic and science in the kingdom on this topic.
However, the phrase also notably contains the phrase “Anti” in it, the mocking nickname given to The Enemy by members of The Watch. If intentional, this would have a much more sinister implication; the abilities of this so-called security enchantment are somehow directly related to The Enemy’s powers.
Combined with the usage of “Watcher” as the enchantments name, this feels beyond intentional. At best, IRIS is actively challenging both The Watch and The Enemy simultaneously, using our name and somehow replicating his abilities. At worst, IRIS is either a pawn of or willingly aiding The Enemy for reasons we cannot yet understand.
Either way, conflict is undoubtedly on the horizon, though of what nature, only time will tell. As King Sean continues in his cryptic plans regarding the Missing Lords and The Enemy already bearing his fangs on our borders, we have no choice but to continue as we always have, and Keep The Watch.
With Anticipation,
Bard Emily Keyes
Written to Fellow Members of The Watch in the Eighth Month of the Year One Thousand Six Hundred and Seventeen
PS. This should go without saying, but please do NOT purchase the fucked up security enchantment. Thank you.
Jon Quillian belongs to @marginmaster87, Green to @autumnleafauthor, and Morgana to @shamrockace
Bard's Note: Here we go! Thanks again to @theshapeshifter100 as always!
---
The ping of metal dropping onto wood came far too soon for Ivy's liking. With a groan she rolled out of the bed, pulled off the cloak acting as a blanket, and opened up the chest to get her saddlebags out. There was a slight moment of panic where she thought the key to the padlock was in the saddlebags, but luckily, it turned out to be in the desk drawer.
The saddlebags weren’t heavy, having only the essentials packed (bed roll, sleeping sack, tinder box, strike flint, waterproof cloak and Watch rations). She then added the quartz, the honey and the black cloak. The cloak wasn’t necessary, but she wanted to bring it.
Ivy paused and looked at her arms. As always, the woven bracelet from Rufus and the painted bangle from Charles sat on her wrists. If they got lost, or damaged…
She carefully removed them, holding them in her hands. The bangle was darker now, the painted flowers faded and rubbed. The woven bracelet was also darker from sweat, but otherwise hadn’t changed.
With a sigh, she gently placed them in the chest, and took the hagstone. As she put it on, she was reminded that she was already wearing a necklace.
The leather cord had been replaced many times, but the pendants remained the same: A wooden trail of ivy, and an almost perfectly spherical gold nugget, the size of a fingernail. She should take that off too - what if the leather snapped while they were away?
She held the necklace in her palm, and couldn’t do it. It was one of the last things her mother gave her.
She couldn’t do it.
The hagstone now hung around her neck with the other necklace. The saddlebags were hoisted to drape over her shoulders, her sword and knife were on her belt, her shield was slung on her back for now, and the spear was under one arm. Time to saddle up.
Firefly flicked her tail and greeted Ivy happily when she saw that Ivy was carrying her tack. Her loyal horse never liked being cooped up in a stall for too long.
Ivy took her time, making sure all the buckles were secure and there wasn’t any fur or mane trapped.
Her shield took it’s usual spot on her horse’s flank, and the spear rested in a folded loop in the saddlebags, pointy end sticking behind them.
Ivy led Firefly out of the stables, still light-headed and not wanting to risk falling out of the saddle. Otto took the space on the saddle instead, and perched there proudly, preening his wings as the three of them waited by the main gates.
Jon rode up beside them on a familiar horse. It was Ford, the same horse Jen had.
“Hey there!” he called.
“Hey,” Ivy leaned against the fence, Firefly’s reins in one hand. “Hello again Ford,” she added, Firefly snorted and snuffled in Ford’s direction, who snuffled back in a greeting.
“Yeah, bet you remember him. We only have the one horse!”
“You could have borrowed a horse for all I knew. Not sure how happy he’ll be about being back in the Western Forest.”
“I’m sure he can handle it,” Jon patted his neck as Ford let out a nicker, which might have been a complaint. Ivy wouldn’t have blamed him if it was.
“We’ll find out I suppose. Have you seen Green and Morgana?”
“Not yet. They should come by soon though.”
“Hope so, the sooner we can go, the better.”
As she spoke, a dappled grey mare walked over, Morgana perched on top and Eamon trotting beside. The Mage waved. “Hey!”
“Hey there!” Jon waved back as the group approached.
“Ah, there you are,” Ivy hoped that she didn’t look like she was going to pass out. She half felt like it. Half an hour had not been nearly enough time.
Morgana glanced around, and did not comment on Ivy’s tired disposition. After all, it would have been rather hypocritical.
“Oh, has Green not arrived yet?” she asked.
“Not yet,” Jon answered.
“Ah, okay,” they waited in awkward silence for a second.
“All present and correct?” Ivy asked the group. “Got everything?”
“Not quite, we’re still waiting for Green,” Jon quipped.
Morgana’s face showed a bit of panic. “Uhhh, I don’t know. Probably.”
“I’m sure you’ve got everything, just being anxious,” Ivy assured, running through her own mental checklist. She was definitely wearing her riding gloves and a hat to keep the sun off. Her non Watch cloak was in the saddlebags, along with her mother’s cloak.
“I’ve got all my stuff,” Jon assured.
“Good, good,” Ivy blinked hard a few times, making sure the world stayed where it was.
Finally, Green appeared around the corner atop a plain brown horse, which was maybe a bit too small for her travel bag.
“Apologies, I seem to have forgotten how hard it is to get a horse at a big Outpost like this!”
“Hey, it’s no problem,” Jon assured. “You think that pony will be able to hold you?”
“We’ll have to find out,” Ivy appraised the small horse critically. “Although, I couldn’t hold those bags, how do you expect that poor pony too?”
“It’s the best I can do at the moment,” Green grimaced. “Maybe I can switch her out along the way.”
“Hopefully,” Jon agreed. “Alright, is everyone ready to go?”
“Yep,” Morgana nodded.
“I hope so…” was Green’s more tentative response.
“I suppose so,” Ivy went through the route mentally, and out loud. “So, the Haven, then Conchúr, Monacoil, Roosts, then we’ll be in the Western Forest.”
“Sounds like you’ve gotten this all figured out!” Jon declared.
“It’s how I would get there, unless any of you have got a faster way.”
“Not really,” Green said. “Sounds good to me.”
Jon meanwhile looked a little concerned. “No, no I wasn’t saying that. I’m just glad at least one of us had a plan.”
Green just chuckled at Jon’s remark.
Ivy wasn’t offended, but didn’t want to waste much more time. She got into the saddle, dislodging Otto for a second before he readjusted himself, and the group set off.
Jump to the 18th. Jon Quillian belongs to @marginmaster87
The next two are going to be a little shorter, just because of how splitting went.
Bard's Note: BIG PREESH TO @theshapeshifter100!!!
--
The next day, Ivy sat in a quiet corner of the courtyard, near the forge. The spear lay across her lap, and in one hand she held her journal, containing all her notes about the enchantment she needed. It was almost like a shield spell, only concentrated into an object. At least, that was the description she used to explain it. All the textbooks had a much more wordy explanation.
She put the book down beside her and held her hand over the metal part of the spear. Her other hand gripped the hilt of her knife. She hadn’t needed to use a physical focus for a while, but this was a new spell, she needed all the help she could get.
Holding her focus in her mind, along with what she wanted the spell to do, she stared at the metal head until she wasn't really looking at it. She almost looked beyond it, like she could see through it, though obviously she couldn't.
Her hand began to glow red, and slowly, slowly, the red glow transferred from her hand to the spearhead.
Jon watched at a distance, sword held tight in his hand. He didn’t want to distract her, but at the same time he couldn’t wait for her to finish.
It took a long five minutes for the magic to transfer, and when it was done Ivy wasn't certain that it had been done right. The red glow disappeared completely.
She let out a long sigh and stood up, one way to find out she supposed, but this wasn't ideal. She'd be using her own enchantment to break through her own shield. Still, better than nothing.
She propped the spear against the wall and pulled up a small red shield. It took a little more energy than expected, but she was cycling magic through the spear now, so she didn't have as much of a reserve for something else.
She picked up the spear and poked the shield with it. It went straight through. With a sigh of relief Ivy sat back down and looked at the spear. It had worked. It had actually worked!
The spear was ready.
Oh lords, the spear was ready.
Having watched all of this, Jon walked over to her. “Is it finished? Did it work?”
“It did,” Ivy breathed. “It really did.”
“Awesome!” he turned his sword around in his hand. “Do you need a break?”
“Give me a minute, my eyes hurt,” Ivy rubbed them with one hand.
“Okay. Do you need anything? Like, some water or something?” Despite Jon’s focus being on trying to help, he couldn’t help his voice being giddy with excitement.
“A nap would be great,” Ivy closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. Her hand reached for her waterskin by her foot and drank from it anyway.
Jon sat next to her, acting like an excited puppy with his leg wiggling involuntarily.
In a flurry of wings Otto landed on the roof of the forge. Before he could make any other sound, Ivy pointed a finger at him, still with her eyes closed.
“Not a sound, Otto. Not now.”
Otto dipped his head, considering it, but decided for once to behave himself and not make a noise. Ivy opened her eyes and held out her hand. “Give me the sword.”
Jon handed her the sword hilt first. It was decently made, but evidently rushed. It wasn’t polished, just buffed enough along the blade to give it the edges it needed.
Ivy rested it on her lap, held one hand over it and gripped her knife hilt. It took a little longer this time, as her eyes didn’t want to de-focus. Jon waited patiently, occasionally glancing at Otto, who was watching curiously. Eventually, red magic seeped into the sword blade.
Jon smiled when it was done. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” Ivy felt a bit odd. Drained, but also like the pool of energy was smaller now.
“I mean, thanks for everything. Letting me come, the sword, doing all this in the first place…” Jon paused in his ramble for a second. “It’s more than I would expect from anyone.”
“Not a problem,” Ivy assured. She stood up and swayed slightly, feeling light-headed. “I’ll get everything and meet you at the gates, okay? Could you let the others know?”
“Okay. I’ll gather my stuff too.”
Ivy nodded, but the first step she took had her stumbling. Jon rushed to catch her, grabbed her upper arm.
“Woah, steady there!”
“I’m okay, just got a bit dizzy,” that was an understatement.
“You sure?” Jon hesitantly let go of her arm.
“Yes,” that was a complete lie. Ivy tried to take another step and nearly fell over again. In the background Otto let out a croaking noise, half laughter, half concern.
“So, no,” Jon sighed, smiling as he slung her arm over his shoulder. “Looks like I’m coming with you, where’s your room?”
“…Third floor,” Ivy was horribly embarrassed by all of this. Clearly she hadn’t gotten as far with her magic as she’d thought.
Thankfully, Jon didn’t try to carry her, just supported her up the stairs and helped her with every stumble on their way up to her room. There were more stumbles than Ivy would have liked to admit.
Thankfully, thankfully, Ivy’s roommate wasn’t there, so Ivy didn’t have to share too much of her embarrassment.
“Okay, thank you, Jon. I’ll meet you at the gates in an hour,” that seemed like plenty of time to recover.
“See you then! Try not to pass out, okay?” he left the room to go get his own things sorted.
Ivy sat down heavily on her bed, knowing that her saddlebags were in the chest she was sitting on. Lying down for some of that time seemed good. She was mostly packed anyway.
She found a metal pin in the desk drawer and carefully stuck it into the wax near the top of the candle before lighting it. The idea being, the pin would fall out and make noise once the candle had burned down far enough, ideally in about half an hour’s time. Only then did she fall into her bed like a stone.
--
Not me hoping that I remembered how magic works in this AU, nope XD. I also can't remember if this was UK 3rd floor or US 3rd floor, probably the former.
Magical exhaustion is definitely a thing, dw. It's very similar to brain exhaustion, only moreso since you're LITERALLY YEETING BITS YOUR SOUL TO MAKE STUFF HAPPEN. Also I have no idea what floor we've established Ivy's room in lol.
Jon Quillian belongs to @marginmaster87, Morgana belongs to @shamrockace, Green belongs to @autumnleafauthor, and surprise guest Nurse Dawn belongs to @dawnstar13 who possibly forgot that she was in this!
Bard's Note: AND NO ONE FORGET TO THANK @theshapeshifter100!!!
---
“Well, so how long do you guys think we should wait before heading out?” Jon asked. “I’ll need at least another day to finish my sword…”
“Well,” Ivy paused, partially because she thought he’d finished the sword, and also struck with the realisation that… this was happening. After months of preparation, this was going to happen. “We could probably leave after your sword’s done.”
“Take your time with your weapons,” Green assured. “Maybe I can go over the maps again of the few pathed areas?”
“Not a bad idea.”
“So… the day after tomorrow?” Jon confirmed.
“That sounds pretty good. Plenty of time to go over all our notes again,” Ivy would need all of the help she could get with this enchantment.
“Good by me,” added Green.
“I’ve got everything I need prepared so I’ll be ready to go whenever, but that works too,” Morgana nodded.
“Want to help me with the maps, Morgana?” Green turned to the mage. “It’ll be good if we both study them in case we lose them, two brains might remember more.”
“Alright!” Jon stood up, interrupting. “It was great to meet you all, but I have to get back to work. See you at the gates, day after tomorrow!”
“See you!” Green called.
“Oh yeah, sure!” Morgana said in response to Green before turning to look after Jon. “And bye!”
“Come find me when you want it enchanted!” Ivy called after him as he waved goodbye and headed back to the forge. “And then there were three,” she commented. “Well, four,” she looked down at Eamon, “hi again boy.”
Eamon softly woofed in greeting.
“Good boy,” Ivy ruffled his head. “Otto’s gone outside now so you’re safe from him.”
“I really need a familiar…” Green mumbled under her breath.
“A caterpillar?” Ivy asked with a stupid grin.
“You make ONE JOKE!”
“If you find one, I can help with the official stuff because I can speak to animals,” Morgana offered, not really getting the inside joke.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Green giggled, while Ivy doubled over her stew bowl in silent laughter.
Green kicked Ivy’s shin under the table. “Shut up!”
This did not, in fact, make Ivy shut up, she just started making snorting noises as she began breathing in too quickly from silent laughter.
Green groaned and hid her face in her hands. “And this is what I get for offering my help…”
Ivy struggled to control herself, regularly breaking into fits of giggles even when she thought she’d recovered. “So-sorry!”
Morgana shook her head in bemusement and nibbled on her buttered bread and jerky, occasionally offering a few pieces of jerky to Eamon.
“You know what? I’ll see that we get some supplies before heading off.” Green deliberately ignored Ivy still chuckling away. “I’ve already eaten anyways. Where’s your Infirmary?”
Morgana half winced at the mention of the Infirmary, which Ivy noticed.
“You okay there, Morgana?”
“Hmm?” she glanced towards Ivy, surprised at the perception. “Oh uh, yeah. I’m fine,” she offered her most convincing fake smile.
“Okaaay,” Ivy was entirely convinced, but turned back to Green, using her fingers to make her point. “So the infirmary’s out the door, down the corridor, turn left and keep going until the smell of herbs and clean linen overwhelms you.”
“Aaalright,” Green dragged out the word as she tidied up her luggage, then only picked up her satchel before making her way towards the door. “Mind keeping an eye on my bag?”
“Can do,” Ivy and Morgana continued to eat.
---
Green followed the directions, and soon found her way to the right door.
“Hello?” she asked, stopping in the doorway.
“One minute!” there was movement at the back as the nurse present finished making one of the beds. She was short, about the same height as Ivy give or take, with brown hair partially hidden under a white cap.
She was quickly finished, standing up straight and dusting her hands off before approaching Green. “Can I help you?”
“I’m hoping to get some travel supplies. We don’t know how long we’ll be gone, we might need something for emergencies,” she held out her hand. “I’m Green.”
“Dawn,” the nurse shook her hand. “I can definitely prepare some travel herbs and medicine. Where are you headed?”
“Well, hard to say. Somewhere in the Western Forest…”
“Hmmm,” Dawn didn’t seem concerned by this. “Let me see what I can do,” she moved to a workspace pushed into the corner of the infirmary and started to examine the hanging herbs. “What brings you to Fort Stiofán then? Just passing through?”
“No, we’re meeting with our group of travellers. We’ll spend this day and tomorrow preparing and then make our way to the forest.” Green grinned sheepishly. “Well, now that I think of it, I am just passing through, aren’t I?”
Dawn chuckled. “I suppose. From where did you come?”
“I’m a music teacher and storyteller from Noefrach, but I’ve been travelling the kingdom for a few months now. Is this a permanent assignment for you?”
“Me?” Dawn was starting to grind herbs. “More of a permanent volunteer position. I came here after… the second Enemy attack.”
“Ah, I see. So, what are you making me?” Green sauntered forwards, trying to get a glimpse of Dawn’s work at the table.
“A simple salve to help with wounds and stave off infection. Also echinacea for flu symptoms… feverfew for fevers… Just the basics.”
“Hhm, good. To be honest, I was never all that good with nature. I can make an instrument out of plants, but not medicine!”
Dawn smiled. “My parents taught me most of it.”
“Hmm,” a sad smile crossed Green’s lips. “My parents wanted me to be a doctor, but I guess your parent’s teaching methods were more successful than theirs.”
“Hm. We all have our own way to make in the world. The king is an example of that,” Dawn wrapped the herbs in several bundles.
“Very true!” Green glanced at the herbs. “To be honest, now that we’re actually going there, I am a little nervous. Have you ever been to the Western Forest?”
“No… I grew up near Fionport before it was Fionport - working in the sanitariums with my family. Came here after everything started.”
“It can be a truly enchanting place, but only if you know where you are and how to get back home…”
“Oh, I can be hopeless with directions.”
“Well then, be glad you haven’t recently decided to embark on a suicide mission, as I have,” Green let out a nervous chuckle.
“You aren’t going alone I hope-?” Dawn looked up from her work.
“No, not at all! That would be… good lords, I won’t even think about that! As far as I know, I’ll be accompanied by Ivy Paris, Morgana Sprewraith and Jon Quillan. I don’t think anyone else is joining us,”- certainly not this late anyway, Green added in thought
“You are among good company, then.”
“That I am. I just hope I’ll still be when I come back.”
Dawn smiled and handed Green the bundles of herbs and the new medicines. “Follow your instinct and you will be successful. That’s what Father used to say anyway.”
“Thanks for all your help!” Green beamed at Dawn before leaving the infirmary.
Right on cue, Morgana entered the mess hall, being dragged by the cloak by Eamon. The dog seemed determined to get her to eat at least one proper meal today.
“Eamon, you’re going to tear my cloak at this rate…” Morgana protested. “Eamon, please.”
Eamon’s only response was to huff and tug harder on the cloak.
“He’s right, you know,” Green overheard.
Ivy openly giggled at the display. “Ahh, and now I see why you guys like me and Otto interacting so much.”
“So is that-” Jon leaned around to look and his jaw fell open. “Oh my SAM he looks just like Maggie!” he bolted up from the table and headed over to Morgana. “Can I pet him?”
“Let them come over here first!” Ivy called. “They’re with us!”
Morgana whipped around, slightly wide eyed as she got turned to face all of them, Jon right in front of her.
“Oh, uuh, sure? I didn’t realise you guys were in here already. Did I miss a meeting reminder or something?”
Eamon snorted, let go of her cloak, and padded over to Jon. He tilted his head to the side, curious about the new stranger.
“Not really, we just sort of, appeared together,” Ivy shrugged. “Sit down, mind the spear.”
“I just arrived here and found these two, there was no meeting planned!” Green grinned.
“You’re here now, no worries!” Jon added, holding out his hand. “Jon Quillan.”
“Ah okay, good,” Morgana nodded to herself, then shook the offered hand. “Morgana Spewraith. Pleasure to meet you.”
Jon smiled and accepted the hand, meanwhile Ivy moved the spear out of the way so Morgana could sit down without getting skewered. Morgana smiled gratefully at her and did so, with Jon retaking his seat and Eamon sitting by Morgana.
“So, Ivy,” Green turned to her. “You think you’re prepared?”
“Almost,” Ivy found herself tapping the wood of the spear with her fingernail. “Just need to do that enchantment, which I haven’t practised before. I should probably eat before I do that.”
“Please do. You might need the strength.”
“Can you do my sword too?” Jon interjected. “If you won’t be too tired…”
“We’ll see,” Ivy didn’t stop tapping. “I should probably do my spear first, just in case I mess it up.”
“Yeah, ok!”
Green opened her satchel. “Maybe we should discuss what else we have to prepare, possibly there’s more for me to do than sit here and wait.”
“Well…” Jon leaned back. “We still need to contact a faery to get into the realm in the first place.”
“Green, I think you’re on that,” Ivy nodded towards the bard.
“Indeed I am, and I did get something very valuable delivered to me just for that purpose,” Green’s fingers briefly touched soft fabric in her satchel. “There’s little more we can do than present offerings and hope this brings us to the right Fae. A shame, really, that I’ll have to return this coat. It’s quite comfortable.”
Morgana perked up at the mention. “Are you sure that coat will be a good offering? In m-” she stumbled over her words slightly. “I mean I’ve read that some Fae become quite offended if offered manmade goods…”
“It’s not exactly a coat made by humans,” Green responded cryptically.
“Is that what you meant by ‘return’? I mean, how the heck did you get gifted a Fae cloak, anyway?” Jon asked.
“Oh yeah, you mentioned…” Ivy was getting distracted by the nagging sensation in her belly. “I’ll just get some food.”
“You do that. Jon, do you happen to remember the Overnight Defence?” Green asked as Ivy got out of her seat to get food.
Before Jon answered, Morgana stood up and spoke in Ivy’s direction. “I’ll come with, I ought to grab some food too.”
Eamon decided to sit down under the table and continue to listen to the conversation.
“Do I remember?” Jon finally got to answer Green’s question. “Does anyone not?”
“Of course,” Green smiled sympathetically.
Ivy came back in record time with a bowl of tea and some bread, having partially overheard. “Remember what?”
“The Overnight Defence,” Green hissed pointedly.
“What about it?” Jon kept the conversation going.
“Oh, that,” Ivy sat down to eat her stew.
Morgana also returned to the table about now. Since she was a staunch hater of soup, she had opted for herbed bread, butter and jerky, both for her and Eamon.
Green started to explain where she had been going with this.
“Well, my experience in the Western Forest that night was a peculiar one, of which I don’t remember much. What I do remember in definite clarity is my waking up by a campfire further north, beyond Duil borders, to the sight of two strangers. I can’t pinpoint exactly why, but spending time with them, one would realise their origin. After they made sure I was safe to travel, they escorted me back into familiar territory. One of them left me their coat, as mine was lost at some point during the night. This-” she patted her satchel- “is it.”
Jon blew out his cheeks. “Well they certainly sound nicer than whatever took my sister. I can’t believe you survived that…”
“I don’t think all Fae are dicks,” Ivy commented. “Just some of them.”
“Me neither,” Green chuckled. “But I also brought some food offerings, Morgana, not to worry.”
“I brought honey,” Ivy spoke through a stewed carrot. “Among other things,” she pointed her spoon at Morgana. “Hagstone?”
Morgana nodded, and pulled out a hagstone on the string from under her shirt. “Yep, plus I’ve always got a variety of different Fae worth offerings on me at all times, never know when they can come in handy.”
“Smart!” Green approved.
“Man, I wish I thought to bring something…” Jon looked down.
“I’d say between the three of us, we can provide you,” Green assured.
“We can cover you,” Ivy agreed. She then looked over to Morgana. “Mine’s upstairs in my room,” she added in reference to the hagstone. “And, before I forget Morgana, does the name Anthurium mean anything to you?”
“Oh so you did find it in the end then? And uhh, Anthurium… An-thur-riam…” Morgana frowned and bit her lip, eyebrows pinching together. She cocked her head to the side, looking a bit like Eamon. “Uh yeah, actually. I think? Vaguely? Um, I’ve definitely heard it before, back uh, when uh, yeah. But I can’t remember much if anything about why the name’s supposed to be important to uh… Yeah.”
Ivy sat up straight, food forgotten for now. “You have heard it?!”
“Yes?” Morgana responded slowly, looking mildly concerned and a little wary.
“I, er,” Ivy fumbled, but she’d already told Green and Jon, and Morgana knew where her mother was from anyway. “That, was my mother’s, old surname. From, uhm, before she came to Duilintinn.” Ivy’s shoulders went further and further up her ears as she spoke.
“Bad memories?” Green asked. “Or why are you so gloomy?”
“It’s a long story,” Ivy stirred her stew, suddenly not hungry. “And, not that important.”
“Very well.”
Meanwhile, Morgana paled. “Oh. Oh. Um… If you want, once we finish this, I could hunt around for my mama’s old journal so you could read the bits regarding the Anthuriums in it?”
“If, if you want,” Ivy pushed her bowl away. “I’m not sure I want to hear it, honestly. I know Mother didn’t like them.”
“Ah…”
Ivy chuckled slightly at the memory. “I found a letter with the hagstone, in which she said to her parents, ‘fuck you’.”
“Well, that is a family conflict if I’ve ever seen one,” Green commented.
“I know nothing about it, and probably never will. Still, it seems about right from what I remember about my mother.”
Jon rested a hand on Ivy’s shoulder in comfort. “You do whatever makes you comfortable.”
“Maybe I’ll get to ask her,” Ivy brought her stew bowl back and ate a bit more, although not hungry anymore. “We’ll see.”
“We’ll see,” Jon echoed. “But Green, if you met those two far over the border, what if they’re not in the Western Forest anymore?”
“I doubt, from the legends I’ve heard, that they’d stray far. Also, do you really believe they’re tied to their material place of stay? I’m sure they could return in minutes, if necessary, or something like that… It’s another reason I brought the coat. It might help them find us.”
“And if we don’t find them, I’m sure we’ll probably stumble across other Fae in the Western Forest who could be persuaded to help,” Morgana added.
“Yeah…” Jon’s thought trailed off.
“Maybe,” Ivy shrugged. “Or we could wave the coat like a flag and start yelling for them?”
“That… seems a little rude,” Jon noted.
“Possibly.”
“I agree,” Morgana came in. “I doubt the Fae would take kindly to getting yelled for…”
“Last resort, then,” Ivy grinned.
“Probably not,” Green shot down. “Though, knowing them, they would probably be quite amused…” she smirked.
“Well then, not so bad of an idea,” Ivy was determined to push the joke.
Morgana looked confused and intrigued by this. “Huh.”
___***___***___
Here's me thinking the italics went over in the copy paste, at least I found out now
Bard's Note: Don't mind me cackling in glee over how Ivy is so attuned to everyone else's bullshit "I'm fine" moments solely because her bullshit meter is calibrated to her own supreme levels of "I'm fine" bullshit. God this dumb found family is such a disaster I love them all.
Green belongs to @autumnleafauthor, and Jon Quillian is marginmaster87's character
Bard's Note: Thank you thank you thank you to @theshapeshifter100!
___***___***___
Green arrived at Fort Stiofán the next day, and to say she was on edge was probably an understatement.
While it hadn’t been very present the past few weeks, she never forgot her encounter with Ivy, and her request. It had made her think back to the events of the Overnight Defence a few times, but found herself feeling the pain of loss just as often.
Hesitantly, she gave her horse to the stables and made her way over to the living quarters, asking around if anyone had seen Ivy. After a while, she was directed to the kitchens, so she sought out the mess hall, bag strapped lazily over her shoulder, and entered, looking for any familiar faces.
Inside Jon was chewing on a hunk of bread, watching the door. He was waiting for Ivy to come by, although the person who did was much more interesting. They looked more exotic than the other members of the Watch around, for one thing, wearing glasses and fancier clothes. She actually looked vaguely familiar.
“Hey, are you Green?” he asked, “Ivy mentioned you.” The two had talked more in the forge and Ivy had given Jon a basic idea of what Green and Morgana looked like.
Almost hesitantly, Green shrugged off her hood. “She has now, hasn’t she?” she sauntered over. “Where is Ivy, if I may ask? There’s a personal matter she seems to want to discuss.”
“In the forge, probably. She’s always down there. Do you need directions or are you good?”
--
In the forge, Otto was getting bored, and tugged at Ivy’s shirt collar.
“Not now Otto, almost done,” she spoke distractedly, checking that the pegs were in the right place.
He cawed right next to her ear, making her jump.
“Not. Now!”
He continued to pester her before she gave in.
“Fine, fine!” she waved Otto off, sending him to perch on a rafter for five seconds. “I’m done anyway.”
She tucked the newly crafted spear under her arm and left the forge, heading for the kitchen.
“I know what you want,” she said to Otto, who had landed on her shoulder. He croaked and settled into a more comfortable position.
She walked a decent pace towards the kitchen, her stomach reminded her that she had used up a lot of energy since she’d rushed lunch. She turned a corner and opened a door, still in a short sleeved shirt and a spear under her arm, which nearly skewered Green!
Green jumped backwards away from certain death with a yell.
“Ahhhh!”
“Sorry!” Ivy yelped. “Oh, Green? You made it! Oh, and you’re here too, Jon.””
“Hey!” Jon butted in. “I see you finished your spear.”
“Careful!” Green’s voice was about an octave higher than usual, still reeling from the scare. “You might still need me!”
“I definitely need you. And yes Jon, almost finished, just need the enchantment,” the bit she was most concerned about.
“An enchantment?” Green was curious, “What do you plan on doing with that spear then, exactly?” she cautiously got closer again, avoiding the sharp end.
“Are you still going to enchant my sword… actually, what enchantment are you going to use anyway?” Jon asked.
“I’ll do it, and it’ll be, hopefully, a magic dispersing one. Like a shield, only not.”
“I… think I know what you’re going for,” Green thought. “So, uhm, I didn’t have any chocolate this time, but I got these sort of caramel toffees from a trader…” she pulled out a small satchel emanating an almost sickeningly sweet smell.
Ivy began to chuckle a bit. “I was kinda joking about the chocolate. That was just so you knew it was me!”
Otto peered curiously over Ivy’s shoulder, looking into Green’s satchel. He shuffled his wings a little.
“No, not for ravens!” Ivy gently pushed his beak away, and he let out an affronted croak.
“So…” Green cast a wary side glance at Jon, unsure of how much he knew or if he was just another friend of Ivy’s. “Would you like some?”
“If you’re in a generous mood, sure.”
Otto tried his luck again, Ivy placed her free hand over his body, trapping his wings and preventing him from leaving her shoulder.
“I’ll pass for now,” she said while Otto let out an offended noise.
Jon snickered at the trapped raven, who in turn stuck his tongue out at the annoying human.
“I’m sure Otto will gladly take your place!” Green chuckled and presented the satchel to Jon. “Your pick.”
“Nice!” he dove in and brought up a toffee. Otto croaked desperately, trying to reach his head forward.
“Yeah, still not good for him,” Ivy made sure the raven wasn’t going anywhere.
“So, Ivy,” Jon asked while chewing the toffee, “what did you want to talk to her about? Or is it private?”
“It’s to do with Jen,” Ivy sighed. “I’d rather wait for Morgana to show up, so we can all discuss. And figure out if you’re coming or not,” she narrowed her eyes at Jon slightly.
“Do you… know Jen?” Green asked carefully.
Jon let Ivy’s comment slide and answered Green. “I’m her brother.”
“That’s how he came to be in all of this, and it wasn’t planned.”
“I never am,” he grinned. Meanwhile Otto croaked forlornly, looking miserably at the toffee bag.
“Is that what your parents told you, Jon?” Ivy asked with raised eyebrows.
“Yep. I was a big happy accident,” he chewed his caramel more. “And I’ve been making happy accidents ever since.”
“Ah. I see,” Green raised an eyebrow at him before deciding to change the subject. “Morgana is already here as well?”
“She is about, somewhere. Hopefully on her way,” Ivy responded.
Green took a seat at Jon’s table, facing Ivy, who also sat down with the spear propped against the table. Ivy had not expected Jon to take the insult like a duck shaking off water, although that had been an old Guard habit she had fallen into. She was more stressed than she thought.
“By the way Jon, how did the Guard work out with you?”
“Turns out you need to do years of training before you can go do anything useful. I want to find Jen now.”
Ivy blinked. “Yes,” she thought that would have been obvious. “Well, we’ll have to see. I think we’re pretty well prepared. Green, you got the cloak?”
There was a pointed cough before Green could answer, which came from a Watcher cooking at the other side of the room, who was glancing, irritated, at the newly present raven. Ivy sheepishly directed a reluctant Otto out of a nearby window.
Green chuckled at this, but her nervousness was starting to show.
“Yes, it’s been delivered to me just a few days ago. It’s safely stored in my bag,” she began to pick at a splinter in the table.
“Okay, so we’ve got that,” Ivy nodded.
“Oooh, what kind of cloak?” Jon asked.
“I got it from some Fae a while back,” Green explained. “It might help us.”
“They gave you a gift?” he seemed suspicious. “Why on earth would they do that?”
“I suspect, out of kindness.” Green shrugged. “There was no charge, no deal. Just their help.”
“Weird. But hey, we have Ocean Man.”
Ivy shifted in her seat slightly. “Also on a list of things. I’ve got a hagstone, some honey, some quartz and amethyst points and from what I gathered, Morgana’s got a shit ton of stuff.”
“Of course she has…” Green chuckled again.
“Nice. And my sword’s almost done,” Jon added. “I’ve been really cranking it out.”
“Have you been in the forge all night?” It was the only way she could imagine him finishing it this soon.
“Will you be mad at me if I say yes?”
“No, I’m not your mother,” the only ones she’d be mothering are Otto, Firefly, and Morgana.
“Well then, yes. I don’t want to be the one we’re waiting on.”
“Fine,” a thought occurred and even though it was highly unlikely, she felt the burning need to ask. “This is random, but hear me out for five seconds. Does the name Anthurium ring a bell?”
“I don’t think so…” Green pondered.
“No? What is that, some old kingdom?” Jon asked.
“For all I know,” Ivy shrugged. “Never mind, it’s not that important.”
“No, what is it? You’ve got me all curious now,” Jon leaned forward.
“And me as well.”
Ivy was greatly regretting this, and for a moment had a mild existential crisis about creators again, before coming back to the present moment.
“It was… it was my mother’s last name, before she got married. And that’s all I know about it.”
“Hmmm. It certainly is a pretty name…” Green thought.
“I suppose it is,” Ivy was a little uncomfortable now.
“Oh. Well, maybe there’s some old genealogical records in the capital,” suggested Jon. “They keep that sort of stuff there, and if it’s not there, it will be in her old hometown.”
“I, I don’t think either of those will be happening, but thanks anyway.”
“Why not? We can check it out after we get Jen back.”
“She’s not from Duilintinn originally, and I don’t know exactly where she was from.”
“Who knows,” Green shrugged, eyeing Ivy with (hopefully) concealed worry. “Maybe, we’ll find some answers along the way. We should let it rest for now, there’s nothing we can do with a name anyways.”
“That’s true,” Jon agreed.
“Yeah,” Ivy rubbed her eyes. She still had to ask Morgana, who was more likely to have an actual answer. Although, she wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted one. She then changed the subject.
“So, instead of talking shop, what else have you two been doing?”
“Finishing my travels, or as close as I can get to it,” Green responded. “I got up to the Pa’Gille Caverns before someone alerted me to your search. Truly beautiful up there…”
“It iiiiis!” Ivy agreed, before realising that Green had interrupted her own sentence. “What?” she looked around in case Green had gotten distracted by something around them, “What is it?”
“No, I… I was thinking that in just two stops I would’ve seen my Aunt and Uncle and my cousin. But that’s fine. This is important.”
“Seeing your family is important!” Ivy protested.
“As I said, it’s fine. I’ll see them at the Winter Celebration at least.”
“I suppose so,” Ivy tried not to go back down the alarming train of thought that told her they might not all make it back.
“Yeah, you can tell them about all the cool stuff you did,” Jon was thankfully oblivious to Ivy’s thoughts.
“Exactly,” agreed Green.
“I suppose so, just be careful not to sound too crazy,” Ivy commented.
Jon sighed. “What’s really crazy is how little we know about these guys, and now we’re just marching in like nobody’s business!”
“As I understand it, it’ll be for a good cause,” Green responded. “And I don’t suppose we shall be interrupting all their work after all, we just want… one person,” she glanced at Ivy.
Jon looked between them, confused. “Yeah, one person. Why’d you say it like that?”
“One, maybe two,” Ivy gave in. She was too hungry to be worrying about this now. She just gave up on trying to be coy about this with Jon, he’d probably find out anyway.
“Two?” Jon was confused. “Isn’t it just Jen, who else is in there?”
“Someone else, maybe,” Ivy sighed. “A family member. I didn’t get a good look.”
“Oh!” he clapped her on the shoulder. “Well, we’ll get them back, too. It’s hardly fair to only save one person when there are more trapped, after all.”
“That is true, I suppose,” Ivy didn’t want to go into much more details than that. She then looked around the kitchen. “So, Morgana should be around somewhere, right?”
___***___***___
I suppose now is the time to remind everyone that this is an rp write up, and we had some long breaks when doing this. We're mitigating repeat information as best we can, and here I think is fine, we'll see how it goes in later chapters
Bard's Note: The happy accident line made me laugh oh my gosh Jon is the best
Jumping to the 16th, and Jon Quillian belongs to @marginmaster87
Bard's Note: Eternal Thanks to @theshapeshifter100 for getting this all written up!
___***___***___
Jon Quillian wandered through the halls of Fort Stiofán looking for Ivy, chewing on a piece of bread he brought. It took him a little while, but after he didn’t find her inside the main fort, he eventually wandered out in the direction of the forge.
Ivy was indeed still in there, and at her current rate she might need one more day on the spear. The socket was taking shape and it wouldn’t be long before she could fit it to the shaft of wood. The actual spear head needed more work though, to shape and sharpen it.
Jon leaned in through the doorway, blocking off the light, and squinting until he was certain it was Ivy.
“Look’s nice, what’cha makin’?”
Ivy looked over at the door, not immediately recognising the voice. “A spear, why…?” she squinted at the person in the doorway, before remembering the voice, and face. “Jon Quillian? Why are you here?!”
“Didn’t you get my letter? I’m coming with you.”
“Yes, and I sent a reply telling you no,” Ivy stubbornly went back to her work, trying to make it clear that she didn’t want to continue this conversation. Whether it would work was another matter.
“And then I sent a reply telling you yes,” he walked into the forge and looked over her shoulder.
“I didn’t get it,” Ivy moved so he wasn’t over her shoulder. “I’ve been here all day today and yesterday,” she added through gritted teeth.
“Well, then I’ll reiterate: I’m going. I’ll try not to go alone, but I doubt I’ll find anyone else willing to go with me. You have absolutely no obligation to worry about my safety, though, so don’t worry about it!”
“I will be worrying about it anyway,” it was just another addition to the stress and nerves building in her belly. “Since I can’t seem to convince you to leave it, fine. You can stick around. Only if you get approval from everyone else who’s coming.”
“And also-” Jon stopped, confused. “Wait, you’re agreeing? Just like that?”
“You’re not giving me much of a choice, and I’m not in the mood for a fight,” Ivy slammed the hammer down a bit harder than she meant to. “If everyone else agrees, then fine. I’m not happy about it, but fine.”
“Alright,” Jon was a little cowed by her tone. “Where can I find the others? Are they meeting here?”
“Morgana is either in her room or the Archives. Green isn’t here yet.”
“Oh, okay,” he wasn’t sure who those people were, but he made a note of their names. “Do you… want some help with that spear?”
“I’m fine. It should be done by tomorrow,” Ivy used the tongs to pick up her spear head so she could get a better look at the forming shape of the socket. “There’s more metal lying around and a free anvil if you want to make something.”
“Oh, sure. Hey, is Gus going to come? He acted like he might, but you didn’t mention him just now.”
Ivy froze. She had just been thinking that she was glad he hadn’t mentioned Gus.
“Gus isn’t coming.”
“Why not? Is he busy?”
“He’s injured,” it wasn’t a lie, just, leaving out the ‘how’.
“What?” Jon looked over. “He wasn’t when we met, what happened?”
“He broke his hand, I think.”
“Oh man, that sucks… maybe I’ll send him a card or something, do you know where he is?”
“He should be back at the Hold. I haven’t talked to him in a while,” not since they fought and… his hand broke.
“Alright. I’ll do that, then,” Jon picked out some metals from the store.
Ivy nodded and picked up her half made spear. The socket was pretty much done now, just the head to finish. She looked over at Jon, who had got some metal and gotten to work. While she was still annoyed at him, she was also curious.
“What are you going to make?” she asked.
“A short sword. I don’t have one. I have a dagger and a good knife, but I feel like I’ll need something larger,” he held up the metal he’d picked out. “Fae are weak to iron, right?”
“That’s a myth. Annoyingly,” Ivy began to heat her metal again, then hammer it flat, gripping the socket with the tongs. “You do know how long it’ll take to make a sword, right?” in her experience, they could take weeks if you didn’t use a mould.
“Of course. I’ve made one before, for a Guard guy who broke his,” he sandwiched his metal and set the alloy in the forge.
“Alright. I don’t know if we’ll have the time. Just, have to wait until Green gets here,” Ivy heated up the metal again, trying to ignore butterflies in her stomach about the upcoming quest. “That’s one of the reasons I went for a spear. It’s quick.”
“That’s true, but I don’t know much about polearms. At least I’ve worked with swords before.”
“I’m not doing anything fancy, like a halberd. It’s just a basic spearhead. All I care about is it not falling apart.”
Jon chuckled. “Yeah, that’s definitely an important spear quality.”
“I’ll be enchanting it anyway, so it should hold up,” Ivy wiped some sweat off her forehead. It felt about as hot as Tandeli’s Calorona Desert in here. “How’s Beck?” she enquired after Jon’s other sister.
“She’s dead set on finishing the harvest, but she understands why I’m leaving. She’d probably come too if it weren’t for the crops.”
Ivy was suddenly glad that she wasn’t dealing with both of them. She suspected Beck would be worse than Jon on his own, let alone together.
“Well, you have to eat and make money, so… yeah,” she commented.
“We get a bit from the government for our research, but the crops definitely help. We’re growing pumpkins and beans this year.”
“For carving?” Hallow’s Eve was only two and a half months away after all.
“For carving,” Jon agreed, “but mostly for food. We’ll roast the seeds of the small ones.”
“Sounds good. What can you make with pumpkin anyway?”
“Pumpkin bread, pumpkin pie, pumpkin biscuits…” Jon listed off. “Mostly pastries, but the rest of the town has the staples covered. We’ll trade for what we need over the winter.”
“I will have to come around in winter then,” Ivy noted, provided they didn’t die. Yes, she was definitely still worried about that.
“Provided we find her by then,” Jon had different but similar thoughts. “This could take months.”
“We’ve got a plan. We know roughly where we’re going and have an idea how to get there. We’ve been planning this for months.”
“Yeah, but still… the forest is so big, and she might be in an even bigger Fae world…”
“Green has met friendly Fae before, that’s who we’re banking on. And where Jen is, we think we know. Finding her in there and getting her out will probably be the hardest part.”
It was the only part they couldn’t really prepare for. None of them had any idea what they might find.
“Yeah…” Jon stared into the fire as he heated his metal.
Ivy meanwhile hit her spearhead harder than she meant to. “We can do this,” she was mostly talking herself up. “That’s why I’m making this. I’m going to enchant this spear to disperse magic, so that should have some impact against the Fae who took her.”
“Can you enchant my sword too? I can’t… you know,” he wiggled his fingers.
“If you finish in time, then I will try to enchant it.”
“Alright, thanks,” he went back to staring at the heating metal, but his back was a little straighter. “We’re going to do this.”
“Yes. We are.”
This did not settle Ivy’s nerves much, but no one else needed to know that.
___***___***___
If you've forgotten what happened to Gus, he and Ivy got into a fight, he punched her in the face, her magic activated, which caused him to break his hand. As detailed here
Yesterday, a magical record was discovered laying abandoned in the path of the Watchers patrolling the borders of Cordoire. In this record, a figure that at least half The Watch identified as The Enemy is seen with its back turned, before suddenly and unnervingly turning and scuttling away. I say “scuttling,” because the movement is truly inhuman to witness. A distorted voice is heard, saying:
“What you’re about to witness should not be taken lightly. If you feel yourself being affected, by the things you see, then please make a note of it and alert someone nearby. Feelings of fear, and despair are not normal. Please, think about what you have done to get to this point.”
It is unclear if the voice belongs to the mage who created the record, or the figure itself. Unfortunately, we may never know, as the record ends just as the figure briefly reappears in the bottom of the image, implying that the mystery mage who created this record was discovered, and either attacked or else dragged away from the place where the record was found.
Signs of magic that strongly resemble that of The Enemy are everywhere in the record, causing extreme visual and auditory corruption and making the setting extremely difficult to determine. However, due to the location in which the record was discovered, it seems likely that the record was created somewhere in Cordoire. The question then becomes thus: was the record dropped by the mage as they fled or were attacked, or was it intentionally placed in the path of Watcher Patrols for The Watch to find?
This record bears an unnerving similarity to multiple past sightings of The Enemy, most notably the record of his confrontation with Lord Brody, which was found similarly abandoned. Forgive my levity, but it seems The Enemy has a habit of showing himself with his back turned, the dramatic bitch.
This incident is largely perceived by The Watch as an escalation of a conflict that has been slowly building for the last several months. Tentatively being referred to as the Third War of The Watch, skirmishes on the borders of Duilintinn have increased dramatically since King Sean announced his intent to speak more openly on the Missing Lords, most notably in the form of a direct attack by The Enemy’s forces on the borders of House Brody.
A new entity of unknown origin calling itself IRIS has also made itself known amidst these rising tensions, distributing pamphlets in population centers across Duilintinn for reasons unknown. Since our last report on this IRIS, more pamphlets have appeared, including some with phrasing that remind some Watchers of the unique vocabulary used in Lord Jameson’s written communications. This is the fourth Noble Lord that Watchers have theorized is connected to IRIS, joining the ranks of Lord Marvin, who shared IRIS’s philosophy on magic, Lord Schneeplestein, who likewise shared IRIS’s academic drive, and Lord Brody, who seems to be of particular interest to IRIS.
Seemingly in response to the discovery of this magical record and IRIS’s recent communications, King Sean sent out an addendum to his past statements regarding the potential return of the Noble Lords. While his announcement back in June suggested that more word on the Noble Lords would be coming the following month, King Sean amended this, saying:
“This project is taking much longer than intended. All I can say for now is ‘soon,’ and that I am actively working to bring this plan to fruition as we speak. My plan is to blow your minds in the next year with the results of our efforts.”
It seems that King Sean is still intent on bringing about the return of the Noble Lords in some fashion, or at least an explanation of their strange disappearances over the years. Of course, this will almost guarantee to catch The Enemy’s attention, bringing with it the end of the uncertain stalemate that has blessed Duilintinn for the last few years.
Until more is known for certain, we must continue to remain vigilant and Keep The Watch.
With Anticipation,
Bard Emily Keyes
Written to Fellow Watchers in the Eighth Month of the Year One Thousand Six Hundred and Seventeen
