Session 3: Rell's Log

General Summary

It was almost a relief to be back inside the city proper, in territory I knew like the back of my hand. Bastion. There was Shepard’s Rest, the poorest of the city’s districts, full of its tight-knit houses and communities. Many lived there because they had to, predominantly humans but you could find all sorts if you looked long enough. It was a good place to hide if you needed to. Houses that may have once been designed for a single family now held multitudes, or three generations might huddle under one roof. The old pens were cramped, heaving in places with the lowest of the low. Huge chimney stacks vented fumes past residents that couldn’t afford to mind the intrusion. Tasha’s Place was here, a gambling house should you have the inclination and there was a small tavern, the Ale and Hearty. The times I’d bothered to squeeze in, the drinks had been incomparable. Both the Guard and the Skirmishers recruited heavily from this district, preying on those that had little other options.
The Smithing district held its enormous well, with lifts ferrying travelers from the blacksmith and similar business above to the underground housing favoured by Dwarves. The network of streets weaved its way under the city like roots and it was easy to become lost down there if you didn’t know the way. The Waterworks was also there, alongside the foundries.
I smiled as I thought of the Garden Quarter, a fragment of beauty against a blank palette. Here was N'uma'ner, the facility that produced the city's food and lumber through ancient druidic techniques. Nearby, as if to complement their work, was a lush park. Its boulevards and grass providing much needed outside space. Cafes and restaurants were plentiful but too expensive for my taste. I always received too many curious glances there and even some of distain. Houses here were stunning, huge three-story giants and were resided in by the few with enough gold to bath in such luxuries.
The Soularium housed the humungous Soul Anchor, while nearby the Ancestral Archives held learning, art and culture. Then if you were magically inclined, the Arcane Academy served the city. Some seemed to never escape the entrapments of education, while others went on to research the power of the Soul Anchor or aid the prospects of the city.
Finally, a significant place that I mostly tried to avoid was Protector’s Legacy. This fortified Guard headquarters aka glorified prison was even more robust that the Skirmisher’s keep.
We’d not been back in the city more than a breath when Saman whispered to Elirith and gestured her towards a nearby alley. My stomach clenched, there was only one reason to be wanting to speak to her alone. What did Warforged think of Changelings, I dreaded to think. She obliged however, leaving us alone with Robyn who’d seemed utterly disinterested.
I’d quickly let Liv know that Elirith was a Changeling, but she wasn’t concerned about Saman or his odd behaviour. I couldn’t contain myself, vastly disagreeing and had charged for the alleyway before they both simply reappeared of their own accord. Barely altering my pace, I pulled Elirith back into the alleyway with me. I felt bad, but I couldn’t let her leave without speaking my thoughts. Apprehension shone in her eyes as I confided my knowledge, confirming that Liv also knew. She seemed deflated for a moment, worried that so many of our small group already knew her secret. It stirred me into action, I didn’t want her to be unhappy, so I let her know that she had nothing to fear, I wouldn’t turn her in or reveal what I knew to anyone. I accepted her just as she was.
She’d shot me an odd smile before she shifted, features altering until I was looking into a mirror. My dark hair and bright eyes were reflected back at me, she’d copied my prominent ears, my lips, cheekbones, everything down to near perfection. The only way you could have told us apart was her clothing, the same tunic and loose trousers hung on her in contrast to my armour. I had to reach out just to make sure it was real, lifting a piece of her hair between my fingertips. It filled me with bizarre joy and a bubble of amusement escaped at how she was able to copy my expression so thoroughly. She confirmed she often maintained both female and male forms, but I respected her refusal to reveal them at this time. She’d shown me enough, confirmed her true self. I just hoped she trusted me, I’d help her anyway I could.
Emerging from the alley to questioning looks, I’d simply glared a little at Saman as if I could convey my indignation. He didn’t seem interested and after hastened farewells we all went our separate ways. Liv and I decided simply to return home to check in and fill our bellies. However, uneasiness had quickly settled over me like tiny pinpricks to my skin. I knew we couldn’t avoid the consequences of our actions, might as well face what we’d done. They’d already know anyway. Always show respect. I forced a smile around one of Mesh’s many ingrained pieces of advice.
We’d circled on foot down around the busy well to reach the lower depths of the Smithing District. The current private portal into Haven was aggravatingly down a maze of streets and both of us had to second guess and backtrack several times before we’d located the right place. The seemingly dead-end street would burst into life at just the right phrase, but I paused, biting my lip slightly and hurriedly yanked out the cords holding my hair back. Ruffling it slightly, trying to tame it into something reasonable, I caught Liv’s amused grin. It didn’t bother me, just shared familiar behaviour between friends.
The Dwarven words seemed to be whisked away into the wall itself as the blank space shimmered green forming into the portal back home. There was no hesitation as we entered side by side and although my head span and my stomach swirled around thankfully empty contents, we’d made this journey far too many times to be fazed by it.
A weight felt lifted now that I was back here, and we immediately headed for the communal room and mess hall. I could relax here, knew we were both safe. The fireplace, sofas and casual furnishings coupled with the room’s diverse occupants was reassuring. No catastrophe had occurred while we’d been in the Wastelands. For some reason, it had felt more significant than any prior excursions I’d made; as if my place in the world had shifted slightly. I’d almost expected everything here to have changed but the same faces returned my greetings. Human, Elf, Dwarf, Gnome, Halfling, Goblin, it didn’t matter here. Not that it should anywhere.
We scoffed vegetable stew, Otho’s connections providing herbs and spices that made it far more tasteful than anything the Skirmishers could provide. Liv had seemed worried now also and asked me to conceal that we’d been outside the city. I disagreed with her once again. We should just come clean. I wasn’t going to face it head on if Liv didn’t wish to, but I knew we were going to have to deal with what we’d done. Surely she knew that too.
Deciding on a well-deserved drink, I wanted to first dispose of my armour and glaive. The lovely Gnome Hekess was on his bed within the Diplomat barracks, the mattresses dwarfing his small frame. Attempting to read in the semi-dark, he was turning the book this way and that to catch whatever light he could. Casting a careful gaze to Mesh’s closed door I threw aside any worry and enquired after my Mentor. I got a raised eyebrow and the information that she was on an expedition into the Wastelands. My heart sank as disappointment flooded my insides. She’d gone without me, I’d been too caught up in pursuing the Freelancer opportunity and now I’d missed her. A stab of sorrow hit me again and I quickly forced a smile at the fellow Diplomat, receiving a knowing look in return. Perhaps not seeing Mesh was a good thing, her judgement and reprimands always stung me. They probably would have even more so than the inevitable one we were about to receive from Otho.
Upstairs at the curved Halo bar, we greeted Loki Sparkwhistle who gladly poured me an ale and Liv a curious mixed spirit. Demanding a toast, we clinked glasses to celebrate Liv’s first adventure outside the walls. She told me that she was happy to finally escape the confines of this place, even catching me out that I’d tried to join the Freelancers because, just like her, I was a little bored here. I couldn’t quite voice that I’d mostly been concerned for her and had wanted to protect a dear friend. It just didn’t seem the right thing to say.
After finishing our drinks, we went down into the small fighting pit, letting Liv lead the way past the infirmary to her room. The privilege of a private space was envied by many with the Faithful but if anything, I always felt Liv begrudged the attention. We’d shared many memories in this room, secrets, gossip, stories. It was a comforting place despite its proximity to a place of carnage.
We’d not been there long when a resounding knock to the door made us both very aware that our return home had been noticed. On answering the call, Otho’s enforcer Nugget bluntly informed us to follow, with barely a greeting or exchanged word. We complied of course but I couldn’t help joking over the Orc’s direct nature with Liv.
As if we needed a guide, we were all but escorted to Otho’s booth at the far end of the Halo bar. Daq basked in an aura of smugness as we approached, delighted at our fate. The Changeling altered his face to that of Otho, tutting and shaking his head in disappointment before returning to his usual ill-defined features. I pondered for a second on Elilith’s true face but there was no time as Nugget took her position adjacent to Daq and we headed into the private area. Blood was racing in my ears as we proceeded, my clothing suddenly feeling uncomfortable and itchy against my skin. Liv appeared less fazed and I for once stayed a half step behind her, making some unconscious barrier between myself and the leader of the Faithful.
Otho always fascinated me and no matter how many times I met them, their presence seemed to consume the room, claiming anything within it as their own. They were the only focus, owned the space and demanded all your attention. You would unlikely even consider looking anywhere else but at them. They were tall, towering above us all and broad-chested, muscles hard and well maintained. An infuriating smirk often graced their lips, eluding that they already knew what you were about to say. Over their mahogany skin flowed glowing silver tattoos in contrast to the pure golden irises. There was no pupil, no white, just a demanding glare of gold which was both unsettling and mesmerising.
I couldn’t decline a drink when offered, doubting I could refuse anything Otho directed or asked, but Liv was calm, defensive even. I guessed it was due to the pet name Otho had used. She gave very little information when that rich tone had questioned her, but when those eyes had fixed on me I couldn’t help myself, I owed this person too much to obscure anything. Hoping I was hiding the tremor to my voice I’d blurted out about the Freelancers, the Skirmishers, the Keep near the Dead City, the creatures we fought, as well as Saman, Robyn and Elirith.
They had seemed pleased I’d been so forthright, but I dearly hoped Liv didn’t hold it against me. I was loyal, I didn’t want to hide from Otho. They’d asked if I’d protected Liv and I felt like laughing at the madness of the question. I’d met those endless gilded orbs and confirmed that she was always my top priority. As if satisfied I was dismissed back outside to Daq’s merriment and Nugget’s daunting presence.
Waiting patiently at an uneasy distance, I’d starred at the curtain as if it would part from willpower alone. I might have said too much, betrayed allies that were barely even such, but I was glad I hadn’t voiced what I truly thought; Liv was strong, powerful within her own right and soon would not need my protection at all.

Previous: Session 2: Rell's Log  Next: Session 4: Rell's Log

Date: 45 Acadi

• Wander through Bastion from Sentinel's Rest to the Smithing District.
• Saman speaks to Elirith in private.
• Rel lets Elirith know that she knows she's a Changeling.
• Rel and Liv head to Haven and meet with Otho.

Report Date

23 Jan 2019

Original Disclaimer: Written from Rell’s PoV and any opinions on character’s or npcs are her own and may not be a true reflection of a character’s intended actions or intentions. Any missing content is due to Rell’s selective hearing or poor memory. Although I have attempted to keep information on Rell to a minimum, please note that you may read some content/opinions that aren’t common knowledge to your own characters and therefore it should not influence your interactions with her.

Additional Disclaimer: This article is ported frpm old blogspot articles for reference, and pertinent bullets and dates added to timelines.