Throm and Sanria arrived back at the caverns and headed directly to the room where they knew Colin and Emalia to be staying. The door opened almost at the same moment Sanria knocked. "Sanr... um, mom."
"Hello, Colin."
"I was just about to come talk to you."
The three exchanged a few more greetings as Sanria walked into the room. Emalia was obviously absent, making Sanria only slightly worried. "Where is Emalia?"
"That's exactly what I was going to ask you...I woke up this morning and she was gone."
"Gone?"
"She didn't leave via the Cavern entrance... this much I know," Throm said. The response seemed to irritate Colin a bit.
"Well how do you know she didn't leave?"
"I told you I'd keep watch from afar... I have kept my word until now."
"Well," Sanria interrupted, hoping to soothe the situation, "Emalia we can find. I'm sure she's just gone off to do... something or other."
"I just wouldn't expect her to just wander off... not now," Colin added with a deep sigh.
"You still have the black makou, yes? It's why we came."
"Yes," Colin answered, "it's right over..." Colin stopped, looking at the nightstand. "Well, it was right here..."
"You kept it on the nightstand?" Sanria asked incredulously.
"Well I didn't think it was going to just get up and walk away. I'm telling you, it was right here." Colin looked through the sheets on the bed while Sanria looked to Throm. Without projecting such thoughts, she frowned at him. 'I told you.'
Throm, however, didn't seem to notice. "It's not here."
"Do you think... she took it?"
The very notion almost made Sanria scoff. "Emalia wouldn't have touched that stuff if it is what I believe it to be... but with her, I never know for sure."
Colin turned to both Sanria and Throm with irritation clear upon his face. "Just what is going on here? Can't either of you find her, you know, with some kind of magic or something?"
Sanria turned to the windows with a sigh and closed her eyes. Though Colin and Throm continued speaking, she didn't hear them. In the same manner she sought out Throm, she sought out Emalia. Her mind stretched through the very earth itself, yet nothing in nature had any idea where her daughter was. It was unnerving, but she tried again, this time seeking Emalia's very essence... and found nothing. She spoke out, attempting to find Emalia's mind, but found nothing.
In a desperate bid to be certain, she shouted into Colin's mind, "COLIN!"
"What are you doing?" he asked, hunching down. "I'm right here!"
"She's not here... she's... she's nowhere. I tried, I tried seeking her mind, her essence, she's not here. She's..."
"Pardon?" Throm asked.
"How can she not be here? You are certain she did not leave?" Colin asked Throm. "Are you positive?"
"My guardian would have alerted me the second either you or Emalia left the waterfall," Throm replied with a nod.
"Where... where could she be? There just nothing... Nothing. Throm, try." Sanria looked at Throm, her face pale and full of concern.
Throm, too, closed his eyes and sought out Emalia. Colin's face contorted with a touch of rage as he waited. "No... he wouldn't dare."
"Who wouldn't?" Sanria asked. "What are you talking about, Colin?"
"Grobnak. If he has some hand in this-"
"I won't claim to hear the planet's voice anymore....but I get the feeling that the Lifestream does not recognize her presence," Throm interrupted.
Colin walked to the table, grabbing up his sword. Sanria's eyes opened wide. "Where are you going?"
"I've had enough of this. I'm going to do something."
"Just you wait a minute," Sanria shot. "Everyone seems to have forgone thought in favor of the rash." This did nothing to slow the massive Colin from striding toward the door. "Stop! Don't you see... just wait a minute!"
"It's obvious that all of this 'searching' isn't getting anywhere. I'm going to get answers. You both can stay here in this room if you want."
"Colin, I want to know where she is too, but I'll not run off with the posibility of hurting her. Now WAIT."
"No," Colin said, glaring at Sanria. "You wait. I'm going to go find my wife. The two of you can stay here and think until you both pass out but for all I know Grobnak had done something to her and I intend to find out."
The audacity sent Sanria into a bit of a rage. How could this man refuse to see that his temper just might cause more trouble? Sanria walked to him, stuffing a finger in his chest as she spoke. "Listen. That is my daughter and my grandchild. If you run off causing trouble with things you don't understand, you might get her hurt, wherever she is."Throm spoke as Sanria's hand was shoved away. "Grobnak... perhaps I should speak to him. His name is popping up an awful lot lately."
"Better you than this hot head," Sanria snorted.
Still, Colin insisted upon storming out. Sanria could only think of what trouble it could cause, upsetting the Jihad. She had dealt with a couple of them on occasion, and while they didn't seem as vile as others she'd dealt with, she couldn't help but realize they'd go to any lengths to acheive their objectives. She didn't worry on the consequences as she encanted a spell, entangling Colin's feet to the floor with vines. "Wait, I said."
Colin hit the floor with a crash, and turned to stare at Sanria with a burning glare. "What do you think you are doing!?"
"Making you use that brain of yours." Sanria gave a sigh as she turned back to Throm. "Will you be safe speaking with Grobnak?"
"YOU do not tell ME what to do! I'm going to go do something about MY missing wife!"
Before waiting for Throm's reply, Sanria glared down at Colin, her finger pointed threateningly. "In a minute I will have you completely entwined. Now settle down." Quickly, she renewed the strength of her spell, her vines obediantly coiling about Colin's feet and legs. She looked again to Throm. "Go... find Grobnak and I'll keep this gentleman here with me."
Throm walked to Colin and nearer to the door. He took a moment to kneel down, resting a hand on Colin. "If we're going to find her, we'll need to work as a team... not against each other."
Romance?
Nisstyre's Tavern was relatively quiet and as always, it was out of the way. The whole tavern itself was rather dark, so Sanria found it nice that Throm laid a hand on her shoulder first. With a bit in the way of greetings, the two sat down at the table where Throm had been quite hidden.
Sanria sat, thinking briefly how odd it was that she hadn't yet told Emalia that she was engaged to Throm. Admittedly, with the reception she had from Emalia *without* telling her, she wasn't sure when the right time would occur. Then she looked at Throm and smiled in return of his smile. "Hello, Sanria. I hope I've found you well today.""I would have been so much better were it not for that fright you sent to deliver the missive, but I will forgive you," Sanria grinned."I'll admit freely that romance was never my strong suit."
Hearing that this was an attempt at romance settled Sanria a little, though as she thought about this, she realized just how little she and Throm ever really did... how little they ever really touched... but such thoughts finally left her mind at the sight of Throm's expression fading into something more serious. How rare she got to have a day with him where there wasn't something creasing his face. 'So,' she thought, 'this isn't about romance after all.'
Throm began to tell her of his dream in which Emalia was said to have a virus given her by Grobnak, and how he was told to give as a cure black makou, to Colin. It shocked Sanria deeply that Throm would set off to do anything based on a simple dream, and even more that he would have given a substance so detrimental to Emalia and Colin after all they had been through in the north. It made her angry, but she tried her best not to show it. After all, she didn't believe Throm would to anything without good reason for it. Still, she knew that the only answer would be to go to Emalia and Colin and get the vial back (and this prospect frightened her terribly - knowing how volitile she and Emalia seemed to be anymore).
Sanria could tell by the expression on Throm's face that she had dealt him some sort of blow. She couldn't hide the fact that she didn't believe his dream. She moved to his side of the table, putting a hand gently on his cheek, then to his hands. "We will have to work on this, you know. Communication."
"I know."
"For now, I am definitely worried. In a way... I'm worried simply because Emalia *is* a lot like me... Prone to sometimes do silly things." Sanria let out a small chuckle. They discussed Emalia only a little longer before rising from the table, ready to set off to reclaim a substance that spelled nothing but wretchedness. Sanria hoped as they walked that she had prompted them to do the right thing - both for Emalia, and for themselves. She walked with her arm around his waist, thinking over so many of her decisions.
Sanria sat, thinking briefly how odd it was that she hadn't yet told Emalia that she was engaged to Throm. Admittedly, with the reception she had from Emalia *without* telling her, she wasn't sure when the right time would occur. Then she looked at Throm and smiled in return of his smile. "Hello, Sanria. I hope I've found you well today.""I would have been so much better were it not for that fright you sent to deliver the missive, but I will forgive you," Sanria grinned."I'll admit freely that romance was never my strong suit."
Hearing that this was an attempt at romance settled Sanria a little, though as she thought about this, she realized just how little she and Throm ever really did... how little they ever really touched... but such thoughts finally left her mind at the sight of Throm's expression fading into something more serious. How rare she got to have a day with him where there wasn't something creasing his face. 'So,' she thought, 'this isn't about romance after all.'
Throm began to tell her of his dream in which Emalia was said to have a virus given her by Grobnak, and how he was told to give as a cure black makou, to Colin. It shocked Sanria deeply that Throm would set off to do anything based on a simple dream, and even more that he would have given a substance so detrimental to Emalia and Colin after all they had been through in the north. It made her angry, but she tried her best not to show it. After all, she didn't believe Throm would to anything without good reason for it. Still, she knew that the only answer would be to go to Emalia and Colin and get the vial back (and this prospect frightened her terribly - knowing how volitile she and Emalia seemed to be anymore).
Sanria could tell by the expression on Throm's face that she had dealt him some sort of blow. She couldn't hide the fact that she didn't believe his dream. She moved to his side of the table, putting a hand gently on his cheek, then to his hands. "We will have to work on this, you know. Communication."
"I know."
"For now, I am definitely worried. In a way... I'm worried simply because Emalia *is* a lot like me... Prone to sometimes do silly things." Sanria let out a small chuckle. They discussed Emalia only a little longer before rising from the table, ready to set off to reclaim a substance that spelled nothing but wretchedness. Sanria hoped as they walked that she had prompted them to do the right thing - both for Emalia, and for themselves. She walked with her arm around his waist, thinking over so many of her decisions.
Invitation
Sanria touched along the hull of her ship with light fingers. The cavern this morning, as always, was sparkling with the light of the millions of crystals embedded within the walls. The din of the waterfall, made almost silent by a magic spell cast long before it was her home, echoed lightly in her ears. The dints and long scratches, even some gashes, caused her fingers to move up and down and she sighed. She might have to take on a few cargo runs to pay someone to hammer out and replace the hull in many places. Her mind wasn't on much else when a walking suit of armor entered the caverns, halting right in the middle.
After everything Sanria had endured in the north, having arrived home not long ago, she immediately went on high alert. She pulled out her whip, ready to attack. "You... get out of here! Get out of my home... OUT!"
The armor lifted a hand in a gesture that reminded Sanria of someone giving their word, no violence would be done here. After a moment of hesitation, Sanria recoiled her whip and locked it back onto her hip. In the palm of the warrior's hand was a scroll, tiny, and tightly rolled. "What a messenger. I'm telling you."
The armor laid the scroll down and backed away as Sanria reached it, opened it, and began to read:
Dearest Sanria,
My apologies I couldn't meet you here myself, however I feel that given circumstances as of late such acts might be inappropriate on my behalf. Though the journey is a long one indeed I wondered if you might see fit to meet me at Nisstyre's Tavern in Westbridge.
With all hopes that I might see you soon.
Yours truly, and truly yours,
Throm
Sanria frowned and looked toward the entrance of the cavern. It seemed whenever she heard, or read, the words, "Throm, circumstances, inappropriate, apologies," her stomach churned and she worried. She let a small sigh and shook her head, and without a word to the armor in her home, walked off toward Westbridge. "I'm not sure I like this."
After everything Sanria had endured in the north, having arrived home not long ago, she immediately went on high alert. She pulled out her whip, ready to attack. "You... get out of here! Get out of my home... OUT!"
The armor lifted a hand in a gesture that reminded Sanria of someone giving their word, no violence would be done here. After a moment of hesitation, Sanria recoiled her whip and locked it back onto her hip. In the palm of the warrior's hand was a scroll, tiny, and tightly rolled. "What a messenger. I'm telling you."
The armor laid the scroll down and backed away as Sanria reached it, opened it, and began to read:
Dearest Sanria,
My apologies I couldn't meet you here myself, however I feel that given circumstances as of late such acts might be inappropriate on my behalf. Though the journey is a long one indeed I wondered if you might see fit to meet me at Nisstyre's Tavern in Westbridge.
With all hopes that I might see you soon.
Yours truly, and truly yours,
Throm
Sanria frowned and looked toward the entrance of the cavern. It seemed whenever she heard, or read, the words, "Throm, circumstances, inappropriate, apologies," her stomach churned and she worried. She let a small sigh and shook her head, and without a word to the armor in her home, walked off toward Westbridge. "I'm not sure I like this."
Dreamless Sleep
Emalia hadn't kept track of the time. She had no idea how long she'd been sitting in the cottage, but the only sound she had heard was her own sobbing. "Emalia," the controlled voice called.
Immediately, Emalia snapped her head up to see the tall man, his white robes and black mantle seemingly marking him as one with no affiliations what-so-ever - a blight of colorless darkness in a world that seemed completely comprised of every color the world could haveoffered. "Who are you..."
"This precaution was deemed necessary to keep you, and the Realms, safe while we research a cure for your ailment."
"I'm NOT SICK!" Emalia screamed. She stumbled to her feet, looking around the man. Noticing suddenly, Colin was missing. "Where is Colin?"
"He has gone to gather more materials for us to help you. If you are not ill, time will show it, and you have only lost time in the outside world. If you are mistaken, how many lives would be lost?"
Emalia thought on this for only a second before spitting out her retort: "I'm not wrong. I KNOW it. Let me out of here." She pushed past the man, the very act of brushing against him sending her into chills. "I want out, NOW. NOW!"
The man before her looked only very remotely irritated, as he waved his hand almost casually to make the entire cottage vanish. "You are free to roam about this region, Emalia."
It was indescribable, the terror that hit Emalia as she looked around herself. The full colors that swirled each time the wind blew, the sky - now an unnatural shade of pink, the acres of red moss that grew beneath her feet, and forests of trees that somehow - weren't quite right.
"This... is not natural. Oh heavens... this is not natural," she whispered to herself.
"We are in the dream of The Apprentice. You are safe here," Halethiel spoke.
"What mean you?"
"This is the world as it was meant to be, before Ao interfered. It is only you and I here. Others cannot be infected by your illness here, until we find a cure. I truly hope that we are wrong and you are not ill, as you say."
Emalia did not believe this in the least. Calm began to come from her, but unlike the times prior, when she had been walking upon the face of the real world, this calm was short lived. It wore her down considerably, and made her incredibly weary. There was no way for her to understand that she was drawing upon herself alone now... no lifeforce reached this place save the amount she was made with. She was too afraid to move, and to drained to think. Halethiel had walked off to the distant cabin, leaving her alone. Even if she had wanted to, the walk to the cabin was out of the question. She curled into a ball upon the ground, time passing achingly slow all around her, and finally, dropped off into a dreamless sleep.
Immediately, Emalia snapped her head up to see the tall man, his white robes and black mantle seemingly marking him as one with no affiliations what-so-ever - a blight of colorless darkness in a world that seemed completely comprised of every color the world could haveoffered. "Who are you..."
"This precaution was deemed necessary to keep you, and the Realms, safe while we research a cure for your ailment."
"I'm NOT SICK!" Emalia screamed. She stumbled to her feet, looking around the man. Noticing suddenly, Colin was missing. "Where is Colin?"
"He has gone to gather more materials for us to help you. If you are not ill, time will show it, and you have only lost time in the outside world. If you are mistaken, how many lives would be lost?"
Emalia thought on this for only a second before spitting out her retort: "I'm not wrong. I KNOW it. Let me out of here." She pushed past the man, the very act of brushing against him sending her into chills. "I want out, NOW. NOW!"
The man before her looked only very remotely irritated, as he waved his hand almost casually to make the entire cottage vanish. "You are free to roam about this region, Emalia."
It was indescribable, the terror that hit Emalia as she looked around herself. The full colors that swirled each time the wind blew, the sky - now an unnatural shade of pink, the acres of red moss that grew beneath her feet, and forests of trees that somehow - weren't quite right.
"This... is not natural. Oh heavens... this is not natural," she whispered to herself.
"We are in the dream of The Apprentice. You are safe here," Halethiel spoke.
"What mean you?"
"This is the world as it was meant to be, before Ao interfered. It is only you and I here. Others cannot be infected by your illness here, until we find a cure. I truly hope that we are wrong and you are not ill, as you say."
Emalia did not believe this in the least. Calm began to come from her, but unlike the times prior, when she had been walking upon the face of the real world, this calm was short lived. It wore her down considerably, and made her incredibly weary. There was no way for her to understand that she was drawing upon herself alone now... no lifeforce reached this place save the amount she was made with. She was too afraid to move, and to drained to think. Halethiel had walked off to the distant cabin, leaving her alone. Even if she had wanted to, the walk to the cabin was out of the question. She curled into a ball upon the ground, time passing achingly slow all around her, and finally, dropped off into a dreamless sleep.
Wind blows Wicked
The compression of the void upon her was tremendous, and it verily pressed the air from her chest. Just when the panic had risen to its breaking point, and Emalia was beginning to truly fight for what she thought was her life, she and Colin arrived through the portal and into a plane like none other.
"Colin! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Emalia nearly screamed. Now it seemed that Colin had nothing to say to her at all, as he promptly released her and began looking around.
Emalia shook her head in irritation, and her eyes immediately caught the sight of a man that stilled the breath in her chest for yet a second time today. He was tall, with a face that looked almost undead in its appearance. His expression was one of perfect indifference as he looked on the two calmly, then to Emalia with a nod. "Well met, Emalia."
"Colin..." Emalia began, ignoring the greeting. Something was very wrong here, very wrong indeed. "Who is that man?"
"Have you brought my fee for keeping the woman safe?"
Colin pulled from his tunic the very same vial of black makou that had been given him by Throm. Emalia couldn't believe her eyes. "Colin!" she gasped, rushing to grip her husband's arm. "You just gave him black makou!!!"
"Your safety is being assured," the tall, withered man said calmly.
Emalia couldn't believe the look upon Colin's face. She had never seen anything like it - irritation. As if she were a nuisance to be pushed away. "You will be fine and I will return for you later," he said with a marked coolness.
"I have no say in this?" Emalia asked, her voice rising slightly in pitch. Her head was simply swimming. She wanted to cry, to scream, to run away... but all around her was the oddest reality she'd ever seen. Red moss on the ground, swirling colors of wind, purple skies -
"No, I'm afraid you don't."
"It was necessary for me to obtain this substance so that it could be studied, and we can combat its effects on the waking world." Halethiel then continued, "You have a say in all things. In this, your voice has been quieted, I'm afraid."
Emalia's eyes filled with tears, but before she could say anything, she found herself locked within a cottage. She spun around in a panic, there were no doors. While the insides were well furnished - a bed, a desk, and all the accoutrements of home - it was still a prison; Emalia's prison. She raced to the walls, dragging nervously twitching fingers along the wood. There was nothing false about it - it was real... and there was no way out.
With a few more moments spent in frantic search, Emalia sat in the middle of the floor, afraid to even seat herself on the luxurious chairs by the fire. There was nothing she could do, but dread, contemplate, sob, and wait.
"Colin! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Emalia nearly screamed. Now it seemed that Colin had nothing to say to her at all, as he promptly released her and began looking around.
Emalia shook her head in irritation, and her eyes immediately caught the sight of a man that stilled the breath in her chest for yet a second time today. He was tall, with a face that looked almost undead in its appearance. His expression was one of perfect indifference as he looked on the two calmly, then to Emalia with a nod. "Well met, Emalia."
"Colin..." Emalia began, ignoring the greeting. Something was very wrong here, very wrong indeed. "Who is that man?"
"Have you brought my fee for keeping the woman safe?"
Colin pulled from his tunic the very same vial of black makou that had been given him by Throm. Emalia couldn't believe her eyes. "Colin!" she gasped, rushing to grip her husband's arm. "You just gave him black makou!!!"
"Your safety is being assured," the tall, withered man said calmly.
Emalia couldn't believe the look upon Colin's face. She had never seen anything like it - irritation. As if she were a nuisance to be pushed away. "You will be fine and I will return for you later," he said with a marked coolness.
"I have no say in this?" Emalia asked, her voice rising slightly in pitch. Her head was simply swimming. She wanted to cry, to scream, to run away... but all around her was the oddest reality she'd ever seen. Red moss on the ground, swirling colors of wind, purple skies -
"No, I'm afraid you don't."
"It was necessary for me to obtain this substance so that it could be studied, and we can combat its effects on the waking world." Halethiel then continued, "You have a say in all things. In this, your voice has been quieted, I'm afraid."
Emalia's eyes filled with tears, but before she could say anything, she found herself locked within a cottage. She spun around in a panic, there were no doors. While the insides were well furnished - a bed, a desk, and all the accoutrements of home - it was still a prison; Emalia's prison. She raced to the walls, dragging nervously twitching fingers along the wood. There was nothing false about it - it was real... and there was no way out.
With a few more moments spent in frantic search, Emalia sat in the middle of the floor, afraid to even seat herself on the luxurious chairs by the fire. There was nothing she could do, but dread, contemplate, sob, and wait.
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