Back in Sandpoint, Mayor
Titus Scarnetti heard a knock on the door to his office. He nodded to one of the three mercenaries he had hired for protection. The man crossed the room and opened the door.
Kendra Deverin smiled politely as she entered what was once her office, followed by
Jayvielle and
Kilgor. The mercenaries eyed the Saviors of Sandpoint carefully but remained at a distance.
Kenda stood before the desk. Titus leaned back in his chair. "Ms. Deverin," he said, "to what do I owe this unexpected visit?"
"I'm here to inform you that I've been reinstated as the Mayor of Sandpoint," Kendra said matter-of-factly. "We've spoken to the Mercantile Board and they've agreed that there is no longer a threat to myself or Sandpoint." She smiled. "Your services are no longer required."
"Is that so?" asked Titus. "Funny, as a member of the Board I was not made aware of this meeting."
"As someone who held the position of Mayor before you, I know how busy things can get," Kendra said. "Had your vote been necessary, I'm sure someone would have notified you."
"And just how did you convince the Board that this kidnapper, this assassin, was neutralized?" Scarnetti looked at Jayvielle. "Did you come back with his head, or some other kind of proof?"
Jayvielle opened the small satchel in his hand and poured a small pile of dust and ash on the desk. “But of course,” Jayvielle said.
"What’s this?" Titus asked, giving the pile a disapproving glare.
"That’s what’s left of him," Kilgor said.
Scarnetti leaned back again. "And I'm supposed to take your word that this is the remains of
Maximus Merilander and not something you scooped out of a fireplace?"
Kendra's smile never wavered. "I assure you, as I did the Board, that Captain Deverin is a man of his word and the assassin is dead." Deverin slowly walked over to the window, passing by one of the mercenaries. "Captain Deverin was also good enough to negotiate a deal to guarantee the safety of Sandpoint going forward, should the town ever find itself without one of the Saviors of Sandpoint nearby to protect it."
A shadow fell over the room as something very large appeared before the window. Scarnetti stood up and started to cross toward the window, but stopped in his tracks when he saw the draconic construct
Deathwing hovering outside the window.
Dilay, still wearing the cursed armour of
Lord Blackmoor, sat atop its back and waved at Titus.
Kendra watched Titus turn pale, his jaw dropped open, his face a mask of fear and rage. "So you plan to protect the town with the weapons that killed my entire family?" he croaked in disbelief.
Kendra turned away from the window and stood beside Titus. "First of all, your daughter
Tirra still lives," she said. "Although I understand she changed her name. Sounds like she wants to distance herself from the Scarnetti name. Can't understand why." The sarcasm hung in the air. Jayvielle smiled slightly.
"Those weapons," Kendra said, "formidable as they are, are under the control of
Kumiko's sister. Kumiko is one of the Saviors of Sandpoint, in case that slipped your mind. That's Kumiko's sister in the armour. She's the new sovereign of
Turapal, and the new ally of Sandpoint."
Titus continued to stare at the flying engine of destruction outside the window. "This is low, Deverin, even for you."
"Oh there's plenty of blood on your family's hands Titus." Kendra walked over to the desk. "Throwing stones, glass houses, you know. Besides, as much as this displeases you, it is a great boon for Sandpoint."
Deathwing’s mouth opened and its throat began to glow red like a super furnace. Titus turned around and saw Kendra Deverin was now sitting behind the desk.
His desk.
"Pack you t’ings," Jayvielle told Scarnetti.
Kilgor tossed the former mayor a bloody burlap sack. "Now."
Stunned, Scarnetti took a moment to compose himself. He set the bloody sack down on top of the desk. He looked at the smears of blood on his hands and chuckled at the irony. He picked up a placard of his family crest off the desk and walked out without saying a word, or acknowledging anyone in the room.
The three mercenaries looked at each other, confused. Jayvielle snapped his fingers to get their attention. "You can go," he said.
Kilgor frowned. "Or you can stay."
The mercenaries followed after Scarnetti.
Mayor Deverin pulled a handkerchief from the desk drawer and wiped the sack and ash into a garbage pail. Her smile returned, but with a hint of sadness to it. "I'm guessing you won't be joining me for dinner?"
Jayvielle set his tricorne hat atop his head. "My ship arrived dis morning," he said. "It's time to go."
"Of course," said the mayor. "What will you do, now that you’ve slain a runelord and saved Varisia?"
Jayvielle tipped his tricorne hat. "I ‘ear the Shackles are nice dis time of year."
Kilgor smiled for the first time and cracked his knuckles.
Back in
Thistletop,
Mite was once again the guest of honour at a feast hosted by
King Glar. The food was plentiful, as chunks of giant were prepared in various ways. Many of those ways were raw, and all of them were bloody. The amount of clockwork servants had increased since Mite had last been to Thistletop. "
Grog left," King Glar said. "My wind-up people scare the others away until he comes back. If he doesn't, I'll make more!"
Mite heard the clank of something approaching him. At first he thought it was another clockwork construct. But when it set the platter of flesh down in front of him, Mite recognized the face of the goblin who had tried to bully King Glar and organize the revolt against him. Parts of him were missing, replaced with clockwork limbs. A metal frame had been bolted into his body in several places, including a few jagged pieces that seemed to stab into his spine. Two hooks pulled at the side of his mouth, forcing a painful smile onto his face. "Enjoy your meal," he said, eyes watering.
Mite burped and kept eating.
It was a beautiful sunny day to be feasting in the courtyard. So it was a bit of a surprise when a large shadow started creeping across the courtyard. Mite looked up, as did King Glar and the others. A large, flat boulder descended toward them. But no one was alarmed. In fact, goblins started to cheer. The boulder wasn't falling. It was descending. That meant only one thing.
"Grog has returned!" shouted King Glar, slapping a giant finger out of a nearby goblin's mouth and setting it on a plate. The boulder landed and Grog, the hobgoblin earthbender, stepped off it. King Glar hustled over to him, carrying the giant finger minus a few bites out of it. "Here!" shouted Glar, shoving the platter into Grog's hands.
The hobgoblin accepted the plate but set it down on the stone. "In a minute. I heard Mite was here."
Mite spat the bloody flesh out of his mouth and grabbed his things. He rushed around the table and charged at Grog. "There you are!" Grog said with a toothy smile.
Mite held up a burning flask and bowed his head in reverence. Grog reached down and picked up the flask. He studied it for a moment and smiled. "Your skills have improved since the last time I saw you," he said. "I heard you are quite the hero now."
Mite smiled at him with proud, bloody teeth. Grog knelt down. "I need your help Mite. My people are being held hostage by a terrible dictator named
Ragg Firefist. He has power over fire and..."
Grog looked around. "Uh, Mite? Where did you go?"
The hobgoblin looked back at the boulder. Mite stood atop it with a glowing bomb in one hand, and a pile of
arcaine power in the other. With one sniff, Mite inhaled the arcaine and looked at Grog with glowing red eyes. "You had me at fire," Mite said before running circles atop the boulder. "
Meep meep meep meep meep..."
In the mystical realm of his own creation,
Quilith stood on the precipice of unimaginable power. Gifted with an insatiable thirst for knowledge and an unparalleled aptitude for wizardry, he embarked on a quest that would forever alter the fabric of his reality.
After resurrecting the eldritch giant son, Quilith had two rare creatures of long-lost magic at his disposal. He delved into the forbidden arts of interrogation, employing his cunning intellect to pry arcane truths from the giants' reluctant tongues. As the giants' voices rumbled with revelations, Quilith's mind expanded, absorbing their cosmic wisdom. In exchange for their freedom, the eldritch giants unveiled the enigmatic secrets of the universe – the intricate dance of stars, the hidden dimensions between reality and unreality, and the tantalizing prospect of harnessing a divine spark of divinity.
Determined and resolute, Quilith devoted himself to studying the revelations gifted by the eldritch giants. Countless nights were spent poring over ancient tomes and deciphering cryptic scrolls, piecing together the intricate puzzle that would unlock the creation of a divine spark. The path ahead was treacherous, fraught with peril and uncertainty, but Quilith's passion burned brighter than ever.
Guided by his newfound knowledge, Quilith embarked on a daring quest to gather the rare and elusive materials required for his ambitious endeavour. From the heart of a star that had witnessed the birth of galaxies to the depths of a forgotten abyss that held primordial energies, Quilith journeyed to the far reaches of Golarion, overcoming formidable challenges and unfathomable odds.
But as his journey unfolded, Quilith faced moral dilemmas and ethical quandaries. Pursuing ultimate power weighed heavily on his conscience, and he grappled with the implications of tampering with the very fabric of creation. Doubts gnawed at him, threatening to shatter his resolve and undo all he had achieved. He had been a savior of Sandpoint, Varisia, and possibly Golarion. How far was he willing to take his quest? And would his path take him away - or towards - his evil nature?
And so, against a backdrop of swirling cosmic energies, Quilith stood at the precipice of destiny. A choice loomed – to wield the divine spark, altering the cosmos in his image, or to relinquish the coveted power and preserve the delicate equilibrium of the universe. The eldritch giants' secrets have unfurled a tapestry of fate, and Quilith now found himself standing as both weaver and thread.
In the enigmatic tapestry of
Kyonin's realm, where leaves whispered secrets and glades shimmered with elusive truths,
Jatsu becomes an unwitting pawn in a gambit that danced between fate and obligation. Summoned by the regal presence of
Queen Telandia, the sovereign enigma at the helm of the elven dominion, Jatsu was thrust into a high-stakes tableau that would test not only his convictions but also his very essence, amidst a symphony of intrigue and peril.
Queen Telandia, a ruler steeped in a brew of controversy between those who clung to the old ways and those who felt a new path would strengthen the elven people, entrusted Jatsu with a clandestine choreography that could herald a sea change in the eternal duet between Kyonin and the darkened drow domain of
Aurorathal. The drow's coveted prize was none other than the betrayer of elven kin, the notorious
Malindil Stormblade. In exchange, the drow dangled their own pawn, the enigmatic elven thief,
Wolf Eyes, shackled by the
attempt to abscond from Aurorathal with an ethereal relic - the very bow of
Empress Ardura Tor'lyn.
Kumiko opened Sandpoint's first hair salon. Her very first customer happened to be none other than Mayor Kendra Deverin. As Kumiko settled into her new shop, she was drawn into a world of mystery and magic.
One day,
Kadrus extended an unexpected invitation to Kumiko, asking for her assistance in a peculiar ritual. The goal? To reach out and connect with his father, whose essence resided in the enigmatic realm known as the akashic tapestry.
Aided by
Lord Villastir, the ritual took a great deal of effort on all three of them. Kumiko and Villastir focused their arcane energies into a number of ancient runes that Kumiko did not recognize. Kadrus floated above a central rune of power, mentally reaching out to make contact. As Kadrus successfully established contact with his father, Lord Villastir seizes the opportunity and used his baleful teleport spell to send Kumiko away. Before she could resist the spell, she vanished and appeared on a beach surrounded by odd trees. Something about the trees seemed to disrupt her concentration, keeping her from teleporting back to the ritual chamber immediately.
Kadus, unaware that Kumiko had been displaced, spoke softly that he had contacted his father,
Lasdolon. Villastir contained his excitement. "Ask him the location of his books. His documents. Anything relating to something called the Master Glyph."
Amidst the ethereal connection, Lasdolon's voice emerges through Kadrus, and a tense conversation unfolded as Kadrus grabbed Villastir by the throat. Villastir's secrets were laid bare as Lasdolon revealed the dark truths he had unearthed. As a young soldier, Lasdolon had been a monster who was willing to do whatever his commanding officers ordered him to do, no matter how vile. But after meeting the cleric Loriana who would later become his wife, Lasdolon learned to temper his more violent instinct. Villastir felt that the Kyonin army's best weapon against the drow was being made soft, so he instructed his apprentice to bribe soldiers in Lasdolon's employ to ensure Loriana suffered an "accident." Once the mission was complete, Villastir murdered his apprentice to hide his betrayal.
But the souls of the damned will do anything to ease the pain, and in the heart of the abyss, Lasdolon was there to listen. The apprentice told Lasdolon the dirty secrets Villastir had – how he had known Lasdolon for so long, sang his praises to the Queen, but felt Lasdolon’s wife was culling the elven army’s monster. He told Lasdolon how Villastir wanted an "accident" to befell the cleric.
Villastir struggled to free himself from Kadrus' spectral grasp. Lasdolon's voice croaked from beyond. "I will be back, Villastir," Lasdolon warned, "and I will make sure you do not go quietly into that good night." The smile that greeted Villastir was one of pure hatred. "You, the gods, and the entire world, will go screaming."
With a quick flourish, Lord Villastir managed to teleport away. The ritual concluded, and Kumiko returned just as Kadrus sat up. He was confused, unsure what had just happened or where Lord Villastir had gone. Kumiko filled him in on what little she knew, and the two decided that there would be no more rituals, or Lord Villastir for that matter.
In the dimming light of the eve,
Truett found solace amidst the tombstones. His new congregation of Cayden Cailean was small, but some of the devout had fallen in the line of freedom and adventure. Their remains lay on the grounds of Haven Manor, headquarters of Swan Industries and Truett's tavern church of Cayden Cailean. His gaze rested upon the weathered marker that bore the name of Gallious, a brave companion whose laughter still echoed in his heart.
Truett took a deep breath as his gaze came to rest upon the weathered marker of the fallen member of the Saviors of Sandpoint,
Gallious. "Gallious, my friend, you couldn't hear me in life, but I hope you can hear me beyond the veil. It's been quite the journey since you left us." He took a swig from his tankard, the bitter ale warming his throat.
With a rueful smile, he continued, "The Saviors faced Karzoug, the Runelord of Greed, just as you were with them in spirit. I'm sure Kumiko could feel your presence, urging her on in those dire moments. Your memory guided their blades and bolstered their hearts." He took another swig. "Or maybe they felt creeped out and couldn't understand why. In any case, I'm sure they felt you there."
Sitting cross-legged by the tombstone, Truett's fingers idly traced the etched letters of Gallious' name. A sombre melody escaped Truett's lips, a simple tune woven with memories and longing. "And so we sing, for those who journeyed on, for those whose laughter and courage remain etched in our souls." His voice wavered, carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words.
With a determined exhale, Truett raised his tankard in a silent toast. "To you, Gallious, a friend and a hero. Your memory lives on in our tales, and your spirit dances in the wind that carries our songs."
Gently, he poured a libation of ale onto the earth, the liquid soaking into the ground as a sign of respect and remembrance. "May Cayden Cailean's light guide your path in the afterlife, dear friend. Until we meet again."
As the stars blinked into existence overhead, Truett rose from his spot, his heart a mix of melancholy and reverence. With a final glance at the tombstone, he turned and made his way back to the boisterous tavern that also doubled as a church, where the warmth of camaraderie and the clinking of tankards awaited him.
And Gary?
Damn it Gary...
