Session 33: Resolution Report

General Summary

The following day, each of the Scales would receive an invitation from A’lar to join him for a private dinner at the First Steps. Upon arrival they would find the normally boisterous and popular tavern closed for the evening, the building laying quiet. Greeted by Bliss, they would be led through the darkened first floor to one of the private dining areas on the second floor of the establishment where A’lar awaited at the table with various platters and drinks already laid out along one side. The open seats positioned to be able to see the floor below as if there would be a performance. “Greetings and thank you for coming. Please, have a seat. And while we wait for our first course, I’d like to speak on something with you all.” A’lar would say as he stood and moved to stand before the railing. Spreading his arms a bit he would smile.  

“I have been doing some soul searching of late. And I have come to some realizations about both myself and the Scales. Firstly, I have failed you. We Fate Scribes are often bards, writers, story tellers, and artists. Throughout history there have been a number of great heroes, their stories are well known, but what isn’t is that most of them often had a member of my order with them. We you see are also often sages and guides for those who are fate marked to become something more. When I returned to Amarathine, I was unsure how best to achieve my order’s goals. And then, the Scales happened.” He’d motion to them. “Here you were. Disconnected individuals of skill brought together in a moment of crisis as the Hatchery was raided. And I believed, in my arrogance, that from this group the hero would arise that I was meant to lead and guide to greatness," his tone lingered as he paused looking to each of his comrades.  

"But, I forgot something.” He’d wave his hands and a great image would appear before them. The images played out as he spoke. “Part of a Fate Scribe’s training is a test that we call, ‘The Path’. We walk up a set of stairs. With each step, we age. So after a thousand steps we reach the end of our life, bent and broken and barely able to continue. Once there we reach a chasm that is impossible to cross. Magic does not work. No clever invention or plan will work. The only thing to do is to take the last step onto the end. Where our body falls and we die. And then awaken at the base of the stairs again.” He’d wave his hands to show the journey. A perfect image of A’lar making his way up the stairs and aging before falling to his death. Again and again the image plays, showing the chasm slowly filled with bones of past A’lars. “And so we make the journey again and again. Until after a thousand journeys, the chasm is filled and we may finally cross to the other side.” A far away look takes his features as he looks upon the last of the illusions play out before turning back to the party. “We are never told what the lesson of the test is meant to be. It is up to each of us to decide. For me it is a lesson on perseverance and acceptance that a single life can change the course of history.” He’d wave his hand and a blurry figure would arrive at the top of the stairs, crossing the now filled chasm to the other side. Looking now back to his friends his voice filled with the gravity of this test, “Heroes and great moments are not decided on a whim. They are built towards and it can take a thousand people willing to sacrifice to create a moment for another to see it through. And there is no shame in one’s role in that. Whether you are the last or the first. You are why the day was won. I came here believing I was meant to find and guide the last. But, perhaps we are meant to be the first.” Letting his own realization settle upon himself as much as the others.  

“And so I give you an offer.” Waving his hands, the image would disappear and the lights would come on below showing nearly a hundred individuals standing below. Many of them unknown to the Scales, but familiar faces of Bliss and others they’ve interacted with below. Warriors, spies, informants, priests, and common folk alike. “I offer to cede sole leadership of the Raven and merge it into the Scales to be at your service. I offer my skills as The Path of Endless Dreams to you as a guide and voice to be used for what you believe the Scales should become. But, in return, each of you must make a decision. As a master of illusions, I am well equipped to see through the work of others. And each of you still holds on to an illusion of what you are.” He’d point to Ismaril first, “A Guard,” his eyes sweeping to Indalell, “A Spy,” next to Adalon, “A Chosen One,” beside him Ayrien, “A Silent Companion,” and finally to Longwei with a smile, “and a Quiet Protector. If you would accept my offer it is time for each of you to accept that you are no longer these things. It is time to stop pretending and take the first steps upon the path you are meant to walk. To grow into your new roles, whatever you decide they are.” Letting that linger upon the air he would take a seat and pour himself a drink looking to the others.  

There would be a quiet hesitation amongst them, Adalon being the first, "I have never claimed to be the chosen one." A'lar would swirl his drink, "While you may not have said, you have been trained from birth to be a warrior, gifted with divine powers when they seem to have left the world, and you have a starry eyed follower who was sent to aide you from a prophecy in her dreams, the shoe seems to fit." Ismaril would be next with a bit of a cheery disposition, "I have been due for a career change, I accept." Indalell would have some resistance feeling his very nature was to be a spy and not understand quite who the scales would be on this new path but as the meal ended the first steps of the reborn Scales of Fate were set in motion, to begin to unify the surrounding clans of Ioban against the Dracolich threat in the east.  

With this behind the Scales prepared to raid the Bronze Wheel Trading company on the following day. The Scales proper set forth to the Caravan Yard where they expected the most resistance from the Caravans security. Bliss would lead a team at the Bronze Wheel Estate and Neia would lead a team to take the business offices of the company. The Caravan yard was a large warehouse complex, housing wagons and goods, a large barracks for their guard, and a stable yard for the horses which pulled the caravan. A gruff dwarf in maile was directing the final preparations as the Scales entered the yard. A'lar would address the dwarf, "Excuse me, we are here by authority of the new Serene republic to confiscate and hold this caravan under suspicion of tax evasion and aiding the Anti Dragonist Terrorists." The dwarf would turn and scoff, "Tax evasion? Go talk with my office, I have work to do...as for the rest," the various dwarven workers would begin to leave their work and start to gather together inside the large warehouse, "Our associations are none of your business, now, bugger off we have work to do." A'lar would frown, Adalon would position himself atop his steed Opal to block any wishing to flee the yard. Ayrien would glance about hearing the faintest of jingling bells. "And you are?" A'lar would ask. "Hrungul Bronze Wheel" the dwarf would spit back. "Ah well good, you are under arrest then." Hrungul would draw his sword and shield, "Think not friend." The workers readied clubs and crowbars as the barracks burst open armed dwarven guards laying in wait.   The battle started off fiercly, the dwarven guards pushing forward with glaives and halbreds gleaming cutting several wounds as they split the scales. Indalell would roll into the warehouse and engage with the mob of workers, while Ayrien and Vaera flanked them from the side. A'lar would attempt to ply his magic upon Hrungul with little success as Ismarils rapier was turned away upon his shield. Adalon would turn his war horse and strike into the Guards as Longwei looped threw the warehouse and activated his wayfinder, a fireball screaming forth to erupt within the barracks across the yard, the explosion engulfing many of the caravan guard. Ayrien would note the bells jingling again, as small creatures with red hats would soon materialize, wielding scythes they would lash out at the scales. Hrungul proved to that his courage was as stalwart as his shield turning away spell and attack from A'lar and Ismaril, as his shield smashed in the face of a not so nimble A'lar. Indalell would turn as the mob was driven of and would come face to face with one of the red hats. Its blade would cut into him, and then as it tried to trip up the elf, a nimble kick and the redcap found itself sprawled on the ground. The other murderous fae would spring about the battle field, slashing with their scythes and performing flying kicks, one such unhorsing Adalon. Regaining his feet he would attempt to defend his allies, his divine time magic subtly altering the flow of events to their favor. Vaera was cut down by a redcap, who the eagerly soaked its cap in her feline companions blood. With a renewed push the redcaps would be dispatched, leaving Hrungul fighting a vicious last stand, Ismarils rapier and psionic terrors slowing his actions, before Ayrien would release a torrent of force from her magic ring, slamming the dwarf into a nearby wall, almost crushing A'lar in the process. A'lar would ensure to keep the dwarf alive for questioning, and then assess the situation, satisfied with their success, tho curious about the redcaps.   The other teams however did not fair as well. The Bronze Wheel Estate was also infested with Redcaps who with brutal efficiency dispatched several of Blisses squad, before the majority of the Bronze Wheels could escape. Neia's team were ambushed by anti dragonists on their way to the office, but were able to resist the assault. Forced to withdraw they gathered some city guard squads and returned to find the office ablaze and any evidence to be found, now likely destroyed. It would seem someone knew they were coming.