Quests & Challenges

@Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge
So, despite it being Friday, the day where I should be getting writing done easily, I got a migraine and then slept until about 9:30. Woke up drained and not wanting to write, and I didn't want to try and force myself despite how much I'd like to follow yesterday's writing. This is getting out kinda late because I forgot to send this post earlier. Again, sorry for not writing. Today went a little unexpectedly.

[center][b]Day 38[/b] [item=Glass Knife] [b]Warnings: Spiders, Loss of control, poisoning[/b][/center] Zylen watched on with worry as Clancy stumbled out of the archives, her own worry and fear plastered on her face. She hadn’t slept since the day before, having spent her night pacing the halls lost in thought and contemplating yesterday’s events. If Zylen had died and come back in what the Fae could only describe as the worst kind of miracle, he’d likely do the same. Albeit he may find himself wandering the library and distracting himself with books. Zylen also knew that the Pearlcatcher had written an extensive letter to be sent out with the job report, hours of frantic writing covering almost six pages of paper once Clancy was satisfied. Hopefully the professor would have some answer to all of this. Elanor’s expression held concern like the rest of his coworkers, but the Fae also caught a hint of intrigue from the Tundra. He didn’t question it, “Clancy giving you an update?” A heavy sigh came from the furred dragon as she slumped back in her chair, “What would you call a ‘death dream’?” She rubbed her temple, sitting back up, “I couldn’t make out half of what she attempted to tell me between her tired rambles. At least she looked relieved when we were both finished.” “Do you think she went to get some sleep?” Zylen asked, unsure based on what he saw of Clancy. “By The Eleven I hope so,” Elanor let out another sigh, “She’s clearly not slept and if talking to me will allow that to happen so be it.” There was a bout of silence as the Tundra gathered up what she had written, clipping the pages before slipping them in a folder and setting them aside. She then pulled out a much thicker folder, composing herself as she leafed through the contents. With something different to focus on, life filled her eyes once again, a smile crossing her face. Pulling pages from this folder, she scanned them before either setting aside or returning them. Finally, she pushed the stack in the Fae’s direction before declaring, “I think you’ll like what I’ve found us. Might finally have the lead we’ve been looking for.” Zylen picked up the papers, not reading quite yet, “Is this what you’ve been looking into the past few days?” The grey dragon held back laughter, “Of course! What else would it be? Personal snooping?” “I don’t know. I [i]was[/i] in a cult after all,” Zylen returned, trying to play along. The playful jab at himself seemed to land, and the two shared a moment of laughter, Elanor muffling herself some by covering her mouth with a paw. He returned his attention to the papers as they quieted, “So, care to save me some reading and tell me who this is?” “Someone alive for starters,” Elanor returned to the folder, “He was a friend of Clair’s. Had to have visited often with all I found on him. He looks to be some sort of outside help tracking [i]something[/i].” “You don’t know what that was?” Zylen paused, frills raising in alarm, “More importantly, [i]how[/i] did you find these? I thought I uncovered all I could from Darryn’s time as archivist.” “To answer the latter, someone, I’m assuming Justice, purposefully misfiled these. They were all kept in separate boxes from the same year, but hidden within unrelated folders. Which leads into the answer to the former. These are all coded.” “Coded? How so?” “My best guess is certain words and phrases have different meanings to the individuals who know the code. I’ve been able to pick out a few based on how out of place they are, but I have no idea what it means.” Zylen flipped through the pages given to him, recognizing Elanor’s handwriting. She had made several notes in red ink on top of this, all about various ideas as to what might be coded information. He raised his fans, interested in what else the Tundra may be able to offer him, “So, what makes you so sure this Issac Olivine is still alive? It’s been decades since he’s last written anything for this place.” “That’s where Jerry proved helpful!” There was a muffled shout from the Banescale heard through the mostly shut door. A shout Elanor was more than happy to answer, “You know you secretly like the nickname. Stop denying it.” “I take it Jeremiah...” Zylen turned his head as the Banescale shouted something in regards to the Fae saying his full name, “...wrote to Issac or asked around?” “Correct again!” Elanor pulled out a letter, but her expression wavered, “We got a response, but I wanted you to look over it. You’re the handwriting expert here, so you’d be able to tell if we’re right in assuming this is the right guy.” Zylen looked over more notes as they were handed to him, alongside the letter. “Looks like from this Issac’s a Fae like me?” After a nod from the archivist, he began his dive between the writing samples from over fifteen years ago and the letter. What he saw made him look back at Elanor in confusion, “You sure these are from the same dragon? It’s almost like two different dragon’s wrote these.” Confused, Zylen looked at the recent handwriting sample again. The hand was hardly steady, and the words barely followed a straight line, as if forced to be contained in such an organized state. On a surface level, there were no similarities outside the size of the writing, both belonging to a dragon of a smaller breed. So, he delved deeper into the details, searching for habitual strokes that rarely were lost over time, regardless of what happened to the author. And that’s where he was able to confirm that the two were the same. A specific curl here, how certain letters got looped, even the signature checked out once Zylen knew what to search for. The uncertainty melted off of Elanor’s face as he confidently announced that the same dragon wrote the letter Jeremiah had received. “So, what next? You plan on inviting him here? Or are you going to him instead?” “Well,” Elanor gestured to the air, “based on the tone I picked up on that letter, I don’t think he wants to return. I was thinking that during this next task Saile sends us on, I’d set up a meeting. That way, you or Jeremiah can visit on the next off day we get. Sound good to you?” “As long as nothing horrible happens to us,” Zylen grumbled, “If you haven’t noticed, we haven’t exactly had the best luck lately.” “That’s why I’m hoping one of you ends up staying behind this time. Guarantees one of you will be safe that way.” Elanor was smiling again, but there was still that tinge of apprehension in her eyes. She sighed, smile disappearing, “Of course, now that I’ve brought it up, you’ll both be going on this next one.” “Well, let’s hope you aren’t correct on that front.” ------------------- Zylen had initially thought when he woke in his bed that it was solely out of discomfort. He was thirsty, and his body was restless. It was far from the first time since coming to the mansion, and he doubted it would be far from the last. If anything, with recent events, he suspected the nights would only become worse on him. He knew the path to the kitchen by heart at this point, half walking, half floating or fluttering his entire way there. It was quite a trip from his room on the uppermost floor before the attic, but it gave plenty of time for whatever he got to set in. Sleep came easy by the time he returned to his room. Tonight was no different as he found himself among the pristine floors and counters. It all came so naturally to him. The top shelf to the left containing glasses for Veilspun and Fae. The trip to the fridge for whatever fruit juice was available. A small carton was always kept on the lower shelf for him now after he got spotted by staff one night. The simple movement of pouring the juice into his glass and discarding the container in a nearby trashcan. The retrieval of poison from his coat pocket…. He paused as he stared in sudden fear at the vial in his claws. When did he get the poison? [i]Where[/i] did he get the poison? How long had he had it and why was he preparing to pour it into his own drink? It shocked him awake and he moved to put it away. And he moved to put it away. [i]And he moved to put it away. Why wasn’t he putting the poison away?[/i] He found himself unnaturally frozen in place. He could feel the weight of his body. He hadn’t been suddenly forced out, an observer of his own body. No, he was still himself, and as he tried to move in any other fashion, the reality of his situation began to set in. Thin lines reflected in the pale light, leading from the ceiling onto his body. They were [i]everywhere[/i] yet meticulously placed around his joints and evenly across the rest of him. Any tug he made was met with equal resistance from whatever had made these. And then they began to pull on him with more force than he could counter. He watched himself uncork the vial of poison despite his best attempts to prevent it. Anxiously listening to the quiet dripping of the liquid death into his juice. The inescapable dread as his claws wrapped around the glass, bringing it to his lips. His protesting chokes as the now vile-tasting fluid slipped down his throat, its burning sting lingering far longer than he wanted. He was freed long enough to drop the glass and hear it shatter, and then he was frozen again. Knowing he only had minutes left before he would fall unconscious, he began to follow the strings attached to him with his eyes, the one part of him he knew was under his control still. Up and up his gaze climbed, fear mounting as it drew ever closer to the ceiling. In the inky black of the unlit room, he couldn’t make out anything at first. But as his eyes adjusted, he froze. First there was the mass of beady black eyes, too many to count. Then the clicking mandibles and fangs dripping with more of the poison coursing his body. Then the impossibly long legs stretching out from a black mass of a body that seemed to be constantly moving. He woke up screaming this time. And he was certain he wouldn’t be going back to sleep. --------- @Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge -throws Zylen into a corner- You. Stop hoarding fears. It's bad enough Eowyn's been doing that. He's got a mark from the Web this time, so that's fun. Gotta love when one of your food choices decides to eat you instead. Also, Pink, don't point knives at me. I've got like 300 in my Vault I can send to your sister. Anyways, plot stuff! Finally getting progress on this arc some. Hopefully I'll get to write the personal visit to Issac, otherwise it'll just be Jeremiah rambling off what happens. Also, Clancy! I don't really know how to word everything with her. She's not doing great. Then again, if I just died and had a nightmare like she did before coming back to life and not feeling okay [i]at all[/i], I probably wouldn't be okay either. We'll get to hear Saile's response to all of this tomorrow.

[center][b]Day 39[/b] [item=Small Chunk of Granite][/center] Tension was high as Zylen sat in the dining room for lunch. There was no sign of a letter from Saile as he and the others gathered to eat, and the Fae was more worried for Clancy than anything else. The Pearlcatcher clawed at the brace that had melded itself into her arm anytime she wasn’t taking a bite of her meal, the flesh around it agitated and inflamed. She may have rested, but she distanced herself from the others now, still lost and distressed. Zylen could only guess how badly what had happened was affecting her everyday activities, let alone the job she applied for. Zylen couldn’t help but feel useless in helping her as he, and a couple others watched on with worry. Then there was Apollyon, the Spiral’s gaze almost never moving from the Pearlcatcher anytime the two shared a space. Unable to read the eerie dragon, he could never figure out if it was a look of concern, fear, or distrust. As soon as he finished, the long dragon slinked out the door, likely back to his office in the basement. It was after this that a courier, out of breath and with slight panic in his eyes, entered carrying two letters. “I’m sorry for the delay,” he began after taking a few quick breaths, “I was followed.” “I shall leave at once,” Howl interrupted, quickly rising to his feet, “They might attack us.” “We’re safe here,” a separate member of staff countered, “Whatever followed Kowl wouldn’t dare step foot on the land. Hopefully.” “More reason for me to head outside. My job is to protect all of you, yes?” The Tundra bolted out the door closest to the mansion’s front door without hearing another word. Jaxon supported the decision, “Let him do as he’s been asked. Besides, I believe we need to hear what Saile has in store for us today.” A Zylen listened intently to the reading of the public letter to the group, expecting to be dragged off again. Instead, what he heard was that Saile wanted Howl, Jeremiah, and Apollyon to escort a person of interest back to the mansion. After multiple desperate letters had been sent to the professor pleading for help, he finally agreed. Not wanting to risk injuries to his employees, he wasn’t taking chances, hence the lineup for the task. On conclusion of the letter, Jaxon and Elanor left to get Howl and Apollyon respectively, while Jeremiah ran off to the kitchen informing staff to prepare food to serve as rations. This left the Fae alone with Clancy, who pulled herself in close as she found herself mostly alone again. Taking the second, more personal letter, Zylen slowly joined the Pearlcatcher, handing it over. “If you’d like, I can read it for you,” he offered, lowering his fans and gently placing a claw on one of Clancy’s. The Pearlcatcher shook off his claw, hugging herself, “I don’t…” she began, averting her gaze. Audibly exhaling, she composed herself some, “I don’t want to read the letter at all. But I asked Saile for help and this may be all I can get.” Her eyes moved over the envelope, “Probably best if you do. Otherwise I may never finish it on my own.” “If you wish,” Zylen made quick work of slitting the paper open, pulling out an unfolding the papers within. [i]Clancy, It pains me to write these words, but what has happened is irreversible. I’ve learned from Darryn and those I hired alongside him that actively fighting such a thing will only worsen your suffering. Giving up or giving in is equally as bad, so please, stay strong. My best advice is to stay around your coworkers so they may monitor you. Based on experience, you may begin to behave in unusual ways that will become normal with time, and their observations will help you avoid slipping into them entirely. In regards to your “change”, I do not know of its nature. Keep me updated with developments, and I’ll provide assistance where I can. What I can tell you now is please inform me of when you begin to feel a pull. That’s a constant with these, but the time it takes for its onset is variable. I do not wish to overload you with information since all of this is so recent, but I’ll guide you more then. For now, feel free to go about with your job as historian to the best of your ability. I will inform those in charge of providing your documents of your condition. Work at your own pace and they’ll match as to not overwhelm you further than you already are. You are in no immediate danger. I’m not going to deny the well-founded concern on how you currently feel, but there is no aid I can provide to rid yourself of such a sensation. It will only fade with time. I wish you the best in adjusting to this change, and please, stay safe and don’t push yourself. Sincerely, Richard Saile[/i] At once, Zylen watched tension dissolve from his companion’s body, while worry remained plastered on her face. There had been both good and bad news in the letter, providing immediate relief yet foreboding dread of what the future held for the Pearlcatcher. The professor was at least eager to help her, and would continue to do so as long as she regularly wrote in regards to her condition. He expected some sort of commentary from the Pearlcatcher as he finished, but she remained silent. So, Zylen attempted some himself, “So, you’re going to feel some ‘pull’ in the near future? What do you make of that?” “I make it out as I’m on a timer. I [i]am[/i] going to get worse and there’s nothing…” “Stopping you there,” the Fae glared at Clancy, “Saile didn’t say you’d get worse. What he [i]did[/i] say is this is permanent, you’ll develop behavioral changes, and that eventually you will feel a ‘pull’ of sorts. On top of that, he’s already given you suggestions to cope.” He lowered his fans some, “Keep in touch with Saile and he’ll undoubtedly be able to help further. And you have us.” Clancy sighed in defeat, resting her arms on the table, “Thanks Zylen.” She let out a quiet chuckle, “Guess you’re [i]my[/i] voice of reason now, huh?” He let out a hushed laugh, “Yeah, I guess so.” He patted Clancy’s arm, “Now come on. I’m sure Saile’s looking forward to reading your next response.” -------- @Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge -screams into pillow- I lost so much of my focus on this in the middle of this. I had the motivation and inspiration, but actually sitting down and writing this was mentally difficult on me. It's done now, and I wanted to write more with this, but that will have to wait until tomorrow. Until then, enjoy Saile and Zylen attempting to comfort Clancy while the others go on a fun mission. I wish I had more to say for this but I'm just completely drained at this point. I promise there are things at play I wanted to get to. They've simply been postponed some. [s]At least I want Eowyn to come back tomorrow, so that should be a fun addition to tomorrow's writing. You know, if I don't lose focus or motivation.[/s]

@Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge
I was going to try and type tonight and let everyone know what's going on then, but it's not working tonight.

Anyways, Monday I was taking a break to draw since I was inspired to do that. As for Tuesday, tonight, and likely tomorrow and possibly the rest of this week, it's been due to work. Thanks to snow in other areas, my work is being hit hard since we're the only ones with a snow team ready 24/7. This has made yesterday and today awful, and tomorrow is going to be just as bad. On top of that, this Sunday is Valentine's and since I have plans, I will also not be posting then.

As such, if I post anything this week, it'll probably be on Friday and maybe Saturday depending on how work goes. I wasn't expecting for work to be like it has been this week. I promise I still have plans and whatnot. They've only been put on hold temporarily while I deal with work.

[center][b]Day 40[/b] [item=Long Form Poetry][/center] It was quiet in the archives as Zylen entered. With Jeremiah and Apollyon gone, the only sound permeating the area was that of the occasional sound of papers rustling as its archivist shuffled them about. Without others about, the Fae found it strangely dead, even though he was used to there being no one present. After all, there used to be no one to assist Elanor until Jeremiah was employed. Perhaps he was used to the liveliness of the place now that the Tundra had assistants. The Tundra organized a couple papers as the Fae pulled up a seat, “Are you certain you’re alright going through with the visit?” she inquired. The Fae let out a lighthearted chuckle, “There’s been less dragons left behind. Jaxon and I were here first after all, and it was just the two of us until…” he trailed off, “well…” “You’ve told me before,” she commented, ending the tension bringing up Meir was creating, “I was more referring to Clancy and Eowyn’s conditions.” “The staff can take care of them,” Zylen waved a claw, “Anyways, where’s this Issac going to be waiting for me?” Elanor handed over the written documents, “Starfall Isles, near where the Wandering Contagion encroaches on the territory. I believe there is a portal close to where you two are to meet.” “Learn anything else before I leave you?” Elanor shook her head, “Nothing you don’t already know. Task is to meet up and start asking him about what he remembers from Clair’s time in the mansion. He was undoubtedly involved in what we are, and he’s also likely to know the code used in the documents I found. Getting answers to these will be a big step forward for us.” “That’s the plan.” Zylen looked over the papers briefly, finding the one on top to be a list of individuals currently residing in the mansion and their roles. The others looked like samples of the coded messages to provide Issac for examination. He guessed it was to avoid needing to spend time explaining, “Looking over the letters it’s hard to tell how much he does know. After all, it sounds like he was only involved in whatever these coded messages are hiding. That doesn’t necessarily mean he was a part of everything they were.” “Always having doubts,” she gave him a gentle smile, “I understand a realistic approach but you need to be positive sometimes.” He returned the smile, fans raised in amusement, “Maybe I just want to be surprised when things go well.” “Alright alright,” Elanor chuckled, “I’ve kept you long enough. Get going and tell me about all the fun you had when you get back.” “Certainly!” Zylen rose from his chair, carefully moving it back where he had grabbed it. He waved farewell, excitedly flying to the door out, and nearly running into Eowyn as she made her way inside. The Coatl was heavily bandaged, and even with how much she attempted to hide them, all sorts of cuts and scratches covered her body. Her bandages were slightly stained with blood, and as she turned her head, her left eye was covered in a patch, likely for protection. It was hard to ignore how much pain she was in as she limped inside, but for once she didn’t return Zylen’s gaze with bitterness. She entered silently, saying nothing as she approached Elanor, who was gesturing for Zylen to leave. Getting the hint, he did, leaving the two alone to chat. Once in the portal room, it wasn’t too difficult to find the location of one nearest to the one Issac had provided. The problem was the portal itself. While not an inactive one based on inputting the coordinates and receiving a positive response, there were no notes from Saile about if the portal was a safe one to use or not. Zylen had never entered a portal alone, nevermind one that Saile didn’t necessarily approve the use of. “That one’s safe,” a voice called, and Zylen was shocked to see Clancy in the room with him. For once her expression wasn’t filled with panic or concern, but she was still gripping her braced arm as she spoke. “I heard from Jeremiah that you were planning on visiting someone. I figured if you were going to use a portal like that, I’d be of some help.” No words were exchanged briefly as Clancy expected a response from the Fae and didn’t get one. She continued uninterrupted, “Up until all of,” she motioned to herself, “[i]this[/i], I was busy with the portals. Figuring out which ones worked, where they led, what ones were relatively safe and which ones weren’t. Getting a better guide than the vague notes the professor left in the tome.” “And where does this one lead?” Zylen questioned. “A small public library.” Clancy replied, voice low, “Rather recent, but they were able to build it after finding and repairing the portal. Last I visited I learned about how they set a goal of gathering old and rare books, not unlike some of the ones from our library.” “Any luck with that goal?” Clancy shook her head, “You’ll have to ask them. Hopefully they haven’t acquired anything like the books you’ve been separating.” She sighed, turning attention towards the door, “I need to get back to work, but hopefully that helped.” “It helped plenty,” Zylen smiled, fans raising, “Don’t force yourself to work, alright? If you need to rest, rest.” He watched as the Pearlcatcher ignored him, waving him off as she exited the room. She may be doing better, but he couldn’t help but feel like she was replacing one problem with another. No time to linger on such thoughts, he finished preparing the portal, traversing through it soon after. As told, it led him into a small library, the heavily reconstructed portal lying along a stone wall. There were no real barriers between the portal and the surrounding bookshelves that greeted the Fae, allowing him to get a good look around. Clancy wasn’t lying about the size of the building, as the Fae was able to get a good glimpse at pretty much everything from where he stood. There were probably only a couple hundred books making up the library’s collection, and no signs of any extra floors. This place was definitely new, trying to get itself off the ground so they could expand. Upon exiting, Zylen found himself facing a town. Buildings sprung up from stone-paved roads, advertising all sorts of goods and services. If a building was too small for larger breeds, they either had removable windows meant to converse with such breeds, or, in the case of services, directions to a similar business that could help them. There was a bit of bustle on the streets as dragons moved too and fro about their days, but few came in the direction of the library as the Fae made his way through. He kept his eyes peeled for a park as he moved from street to street. Issac hadn’t elaborated on the name or location of a park, but it was within the town based on the surroundings he had described. To have a portal so close to where Zylen wanted to be seemed a bit lucky to him at first, but then he remembered that Issac knew about them, which means he knew how he’d be arriving. He took the preparedness as a convenience thing, continuing to search out the meetup location. Sure enough, he found it, but not someone waiting for him. Thinking he was early, he landed on a nearby perch, double checking his bag’s contents to ensure he had everything. Then he began to wait again, eyeing every Fae he spotted among the dragons that passed by him. He didn’t know what Issac looked like, but he at least knew the breed he was most likely to be. Eventually, he spotted one of his kind flutter up to the entrance gate of the park, eyeing a pocket watch as they stopped. [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/537779856474243072/811381437047242782/scry.png[/img] Zylen was shocked to see him dressed in an assortment of bright apparel on top of his formal attire. On top of this, he was covered in an array of magical scars, some pulsing softly with the ebb and flow of their owner’s magic. Unsure this was even the dragon he had come for, Zylen moved from his spot, deftly finding his way in front of the other Fae. “Issac?” He asked, claw held out for a handshake. The other’s eyes lit up as their fans raised, “That’s me!” he said with some enthusiasm, but as normal, his voice lacked some emotion. He took his claw, shaking it firmly, “I take it you’re Zylen?” He nodded, “Correct. Jeremiah would have come in my place if I was called on the task.” “I was prepared for either of you,” his fans lowered some as a sign of unease, “We should find a safer place to talk before we get too deep in conversation. Clair wasn’t joking about being drawn to dragons from the mansion, and you have quite a strong pull, even with your small stature.” He moved ahead without another word, gesturing Zylen to follow, “Come. I know a spot. I used to use it when Darryn was still around.” Zylen was rattled by the uncomfortable eagerness of his fellow Fae, but followed along. He was taken into the branches of a tree, and thought they were climbing into the upper branches to talk until Issac moved back part of a trunk to reveal a hollow area. Two old chairs sat inside, one for a smaller breed and other for a medium-sized breed. The “room” was a rather tight space and not decorated, but as the hidden door closed, it illuminated with magical light. “Now,” Issac began, “What did you want to discuss?” His voice continued to lack clear emotion as his fans lowered, “I can’t promise I’ll be of much help. My memory isn’t what it used to be.” “That’s fine. We just want a couple key answers and everything else is simply extra information we can use in the future.” Zylen dug through his bag, pulling out the sample papers and the list of current mansion staff. He handed them over to the other Fae, who reluctantly took them, “Elanor made these for you. First is for your personal use, but the others are what I’m primarily here for.” As he watched Issac eye the coded papers, he saw a regular shift in his frills. First there was a bit of nostalgia and excitement upon seeing words originally from an old friend of his. Then, as he began to look deeper into the writing, confusion and after more reading and passing of time, frustration. Zylen had a bad feeling about how much this Fae may actually know as he began to trace the same lines over and over, eventually switching to a different paper entirely. “Everything alright?” He questioned tentatively, “We didn’t bring you nothing but uncoded samples did we?” “No, no these are definitely coded,” Issac replied bluntly, looking over another line, “Almost everything you’ve given me is actually. The problem is [i]remembering[/i] the code.” “And I take it that’s not going well?” “Not as much as I’d like. I told you, my memory fails me. It has since I stopped communicating with Clair and the others,” He sighed before placing the papers on his chair and pacing the floor. His fans remained largely lowered as he spoke up again, “I can definitely tell you what some of these say, but everything else I’ve forgotten or know has to be wrong.” Zylen stared at him quizzically, fans spread in various positions in confusion, “Can’t you connect the dots to trace it back to certain memories? A keyword or two should be enough to recall what you and Clair were discussing in secret.” Issac suddenly shot him a glare, “I told you. My memory isn’t what it used to be. It [i]lies[/i] to me now, and this was long before it started doing that. I don’t even have reliable written records I could check back through for you. Now,” his eyes narrowed, “do you want to know what I [i]can[/i] tell you or not?” He went on the defensive, lowering his fans somewhat in submission, “Sorry, didn’t mean to strike a nerve. Please tell me what you can. It’s better than nothing.” The other Fae picked up the papers from his seat, taking it before shuffling through them all. He looked at the many pages one more time as he attempted to recall more than he could, eventually letting out another sigh. “These codes cover a relic Clair and I recovered at some point. I don’t know of its nature or what it looks like, but it’s dangerous. We convinced Saile that we’d keep it in the mansion’s Reliquary Room, to which is where it remains as far as I’m concerned. There was something about not letting someone employed in our ranks at the time not touching it, but I don’t know who it’s referring to or why they weren’t allowed to interact with the relic.” “Thanks Issac,” Zylen adjusted his fans to express his gratitude. “That’s a bit more helpful than you think. I apologize if I’m prying a bit too much, but could you possibly point out parts of the code so we might be able to translate the rest that way?” “If you have paper, I can give you some of it. A lot is lost on me, but I can fill in blanks with some of my memory.” Before Zylen continued asking questions, he took note of Issac’s claws as he began to write. After seeing what his handwriting looked like in the newer set of letters, he expected a very shaky hand, but what he was seeing was smooth and deliberate. It appeared normal, with no modifications to the hand to suggest anything was wrong at all. Regardless, he continued his little interview, “So, who [i]was[/i] Clair? Unlike some of the others we’ve found traces of, there’s next to nothing we know about her besides her name.” “Clair was the mansion’s doctor and an old colleague of mine,” Issac didn’t look up as he spoke, “She was a Skydancer like Darryn, and the mansion’s doctor. When dragons started getting injured, and inevitably dying on tasks in strange, unexplainable ways, she got roped into everything.” He paused, lowering his fans some, “Don’t ask what ‘everything’ was. If I give you that answer now I’ll put you and your coworkers in major danger.” “Danger?” Zylen instinctively replied, a sudden chill of fear filling his chest. He quickly corrected himself, “Sorry, I didn’t intend on you to answer that. This isn’t the first time information has been withheld from us to protect us. It’s frustrating not knowing why, but considering some of the other things I’ve encountered, I believe you.” “Good,” Issac raised his fans again in understanding, “I can tell you that the only reason I’m even still alive is because I cut myself off from the mansion when things started going south. Even then, I wasn’t safe, and I’ve survived out of sheer luck. I doubt any of the others who got involved are still alive, and if they are, they’re undoubtedly worse off than me.” Zylen’s attention pulled to the scars as the other Fae talked. They were quite severe, and if the pulsing was what he believed them to be, what caused them had damaged Issac’s magical potential. It likely was painful to use even simple magic with fried magical lines like that. At least they didn’t cover his entire body from the looks of things. His next question went against what was explained to him, but he needed to know, “Can we possibly entrust in your help in the future? There’s still a lot we don’t know about…” “I’m going to stop you there.” Issac was glaring at him again, fans mostly lowered, and his writing halted, “Me helping you out this time was a [i]major[/i] risk to both of us. I will not meet again in person like this until you and the rest of your coworkers get a better understanding of exactly what you’re digging into here. Understood?” Zylen nodded slowly, “Can we at least send letters in regards to progress?” Issac sighed again, but as his fans only raised into a neutral position, Zylen couldn’t tell the emotion behind it, “I advise against it, but if you’d like to, you can.” Issac scribbled a few more lines of text down before handing over a small stack of papers to Zylen, “I also suggest you only send one a week at most. It’ll prevent others from catching on to our little ‘alliance’. As for how I can personally help, don’t expect much. It hurts to try and recall such old information without warping what’s around it, and I’d hate to do the same to you.” Zylen almost let out a confused [i]‘What?’[/i], only to stop himself. He didn’t want to step into something else that may upset the other Fae. Instead, he raised his fans in content, “Thanks for agreeing to help. I know you can’t do too much, but we appreciate any help we can get.” As he looked over the papers, he expected to find the neat handwriting that he swore Issac was making, only to find the same nearly unreadable scrawls from the letters he had sent them. Confused, he opened his mouth to ask why, only to find Issac already answering him, eyes dull and fans lowered in fear, “There are some things out of our control in this world, Zylen. Remember that.” As Zylen returned to the mansion that night, he was certain he wouldn’t forget it. ------- @Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge I'm back! I was going to try and post yesterday but a lot of stress came up due to the weather around here so I didn't have the mindset for it. I'll be back to regularly posting now though! Well, as long as work doesn't kill me again because of the weather effecting things. Anyways, meeting up with another NPC! Issac is one that likely be appearing again anytime soon, but since he is someone the mansion communicates with on occasion, it's best to give him an appearance and his own little NPC area and whatnot. I want to say more, but other than rolling nothing on the Trinket today, I don't really have much to add. Enjoy this long entry and hopefully I'll have more to say tomorrow.

@Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge
Okay, so no post tonight. Work left me exhausted because this week is going to be long, but it's due to a headache I can't tonight. I could probably finish writing for today's pull, but it would be short and sub-par due to me not really being able to focus on top of pretty much forcing myself to write. Hopefully this won't happen again tomorrow. I was really excited to get back into writing for this.

[center][b]Day 41[/b] [item=Bearded Squiggle][/center] Zylen was filled with energy the following morning. Besides relaying what he learned from Issac with Elanor beyond the papers he hastily handed her the evening prior, he knew the others would be returning at some point today. That meant a report from four different dragons’ perspectives, the three from the mansion, and the fourth from the individual they’d bring back with them. That meant at least two or three hours just gathering information to write down, and another couple hours to format them into a formal report to deliver to Saile. He’s likely to spend a couple hours with Elanor as well, meaning there was little time for much else. So, after breakfast, he immediately got to work catching up Elanor to what he had learned from Issac. The Tundra had already gotten to work transcribing his writing into her more readable hand, and as the two began conversing, her new priority appeared to have become breaking the rest of the code. Of course, that was on her own personal time, so the two turned attention on Issac in general. First, there were the scars. Issac had been careful not to bring them up or draw any attention to them, yet it was clear that they were an important part of him. There was a brief debate as to when he got them, the decision being that they appeared after he stopped visiting the mansion. Then there was the question as to what caused them. It’s normally very difficult to magically scar a Fae without killing them. The breed had long been known for their ties to magic, so damaging them in that fashion, if it didn’t kill them, was devastating. Yet Issac was severely scarred with no signs of damage to how his body functioned. This led to the next topic: Was Issac a Fae to begin with, or had he undergone a breed change at some point earlier in his life? Zylen quickly dismissed any sort of breed change having occurred, as Issac was naturally expressive with his fans, and breed changed Fae tended to attempt to force out emotions in their words. Even “experienced” members struggled to make their words and fans align, something Issac did flawlessly. Although this was countered with a different problem. Issac was a natural, sure, but what about when he seemed indecisive with his fans? Zylen chalked it up initially to confusion, but as the Tundra cast a knowing glance his way, he caught onto what she was suggesting. He didn’t believe that Issac was deceiving someone like him, but that was a definite possibility, especially since there was information already being deliberately kept from them. In the middle of their heated discussion, the two were interrupted by a knock on the office door. The one responsible for the disruption was Eowyn, who quickly informed Zylen that Jeremiah and the others had returned, and were waiting in the dining hall for him. Cutting their conversation short, Elanor invited the Coatl to take his spot, and after a moment of thought, she agreed. He was shocked to see everyone pleasantly talking when he arrived. Howl had a bandaged arm and Jeremiah had some small cuts on his wings and body, but other than that, the group only wore some minor exhaustion on their faces. From what he had picked up from Elanor’s comments, there was a bit of distance to the portal to their destination. What Zylen was seeing was simply a result of a lack of proper sleep. What he didn’t see, however, was the dragon they were supposed to bring back, who was nowhere to be seen. His questions were quickly answered by Apollyon, the Spiral wasting little time, “Guest upstairs. Needs rest. Hasn’t slept in many days. As for others? Wildlife. Shattered Serpent bit Howl. Jeremiah repelled some clouddancers.” “Do you guys want to start here? I brought paper, and it’s still a bit before lunch.” He smiled, patting to the bag at his side, “I’m sure you guys want to save how much you’re walking right now.” “I appreciate the thought Zylen,” Jeremiah commented, “But I think we want to take a minute to think about the past couple days before we thrust disorganized information on you.” “I’d like to do it now,” Howl interjected, “My memory’s only going to get worse. Plus, I need to return to patrolling.” The Banescale let out a sigh, “We’ve hardly been back half an hour and you already want to get back to work. Guess you weren’t joking about dedication.” “My clan’s handled worse. I’ve traveled through worse. Resting when I can continue is weakness and putting my guard down.” Howl paused, frowning, “No offense to the rest of you of course. Each of us was raised differently.” The comment immediately brought back memories of Zylen’s time back in the cult. He said nothing though, pushing them back down, “None taken. If you don’t mind, care to recall what you do remember?” And thus began the most confusing set of recollections the Fae would receive from the group. Howl’s was certainly strange, often referring to individuals he encountered by scent and distinct pieces of apparel or looks instead of by name, but otherwise it was as expected. The three of them arrived in the clan the dragon they were to escort had been staying, but their escort demanded to only travel the following morning, saying it was too late when they had arrived. Howl had spent that night on watch, and had yet to sleep since. He got clumsy fending off a nest of Shattered Serpents, and ended up with a pretty deep bite wound in the process. When Zylen asked about the individual they had brought back with them, the Tundra had difficulty remembering anything about the dragon, blaming it on his lack of sleep and his breed’s issues with keeping track of names and faces. The Fae wasn’t bothered until he had Apollyon and Jeremiah join him in the library to give them their accounts. Outside of being given names, little was different in Jeremiah’s account. The Banescale had been in charge of introducing the group to their escort, stating their purpose and asking simple questions to get an idea of what they were handling. However, this was when things became muddy. Anytime the Ancient attempted to recall information on their guest, he could remember little to nothing about them. Not even their name or breed. While he was certain they had brought back the right dragon, that was almost all he could tell Zylen about them. By now, the Fae was already taking notes about how this dragon they had brought back was clearly capable of altering memories somehow. Whether it was through their magic or some sort of object on them or even a curse of some kind he didn’t know. That’s where he hoped Apollyon would help him out. The Spiral had mentioned multiple times that he was born and raised to be resistant to such things, and hopefully this time wasn’t an exception. And thankfully, it wasn’t. The Spiral kept things brief, as usual. Their guest’s name was Samantha, and they were a young Imperial, unnaturally small in stature if his memory wasn’t failing him. While he couldn’t remember details, she hadn’t slept in nearly three days when they had arrived, and had been plagued with nightmares when she slept. He was told there was something about the nightmares as to why she refused to sleep, but he failed to recall them. When they entered the mansion, her expression shifted from fear and panic to one of relief, and within moments of entering the halls, she collapsed, unconscious. He believed that something about the mansion was blocking the source of her paranoia, and that any further interactions with her shouldn’t hinder memories from now on. With interviews finished and information retrieved, Zylen briefly informed the two on his visit to Issac. He wished he could have said more, but with the rest of his day being filled with finishing the report, he wanted to make sure he made the most of it. He warned Apollyon about the relic Issac had mentioned, and to help Elanor possibly figure out what it could be. As for Jeremiah, he gave a similar warning, telling him to avoid asking certain questions in future letters he may write to the Fae. Finally, he let the two know of Eowyn’s recovery, and that she was to begin helping them in the future. And with that, the two left, likely to continue the discussion with Elanor in the basement. Zylen didn’t get to speak with Samantha that night. Their guest slept through the entire day, and was still sleeping when he turned in for the night. He only hoped that her sleep was restful. From what little he gathered on the Imperial, she needed it. -------- @Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge Today's post got a bit delayed because work left me exhausted and aaaaaaa some of these coli battles get [i]long[/i]. Anyways, Zylen's level 10, Clancy's level 9, and Jeremiah's level 8 now! I wish I had more to say again, but I'm just really drained. I'm mainly wrapping up some stuff today so I can get started on some stuff for next day's post. Guess this shows off Apollyon does in fact have some magic resistance, as well as Issac being a bit more off than initially thought. Other than that, it's mostly filler and following up on yesterday's events. I would have gone into more details when it came to recalling the task the three went on, but I didn't want to make another six page post. At least I get another NPC tomorrow? I mean, unless I get a fam. Then I'm breaking the roll rules since I already have an extra dragon in the mansion at the moment.

@Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge I hate doing this [i]again[/i] but no post tonight. I started writing and got a pretty bad headache, and rather than fight through writing, especially at the risk of it becoming a migraine, I'm just going to hold off on finishing it for tomorrow. You know, if work tomorrow doesn't kill me because it's going to be a [i]long[/i] day. Hopefully it being Saturday and therefor the start of my weekend helps since I'll have more free time to write (aka: I can stay up later). That said, enjoy this scry of Samantha. I know it'll be in tomorrow's post as well, but I really enjoyed designing her and thought it would be [i]something[/i] to show for tonight. [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/537779856474243072/812506377326034994/totally_not_cursed.png[/img]

[center][b]Day 42[/b] [item=Stone Fertility Statue][/center] Zylen found out Samantha still hadn’t woken when he asked about her condition at breakfast. Eowyn was called to investigate the Imperial to confirm that the prolonged sleep wasn’t caused by a curse or other magical enchantment, but found nothing of the sort. She was left to rest further, staff providing water and some fruits for when she awoke. Whenever she did wake up, the Fae would be the first informed, with the warning that he shouldn’t immediately dive into questions about what happened with her. So, his morning went by slowly as he focused on organizing his catalogue of the library’s content. He had gathered pages upon pages of titles, and before he continued, he wanted to sort through what he already had. He started with the books that didn’t belong to the genre he was in, setting them aside on empty cupboards and side bookshelves until he’d reach where they belonged. He discovered another strange book at this time, recognizing the strange feeling emanating from the cover as he grasped it. He hastily slipped it alongside the others, his silence interrupted soon after returning to the task at hand. “H-How did you grab that?” It was Eowyn, staring wide-eyed and worried. Zylen attempted to reassure the Coatl he was fine, “Calm down Eowyn. I’ve handled a few of them at this point and not one has done anything besides give me a strange feeling.” His words were largely lost on the feathered dragon as he had forgotten the language barrier, but it seemed she was doing her best to read his lips. Regardless of what she made out, it did little to calm her, “But that book was enchanted to harm who picked it up,” she half mumbled, “You should be [i]on fire[/i] right now.” She took a step back, worry being replaced with fear, “[i]How?[/i]” He opened his mouth to reply, stopping himself this time. Instead, he scribbled his reply down on paper and slowly handed it to Eowyn, ‘To be honest, I don’t know. I can’t see this sort of thing like you do. If it happens again, we can take it to Elanor.’ The note didn’t remove the fear in the Coatl’s eyes, but it did relax her slightly. She took a couple deep breaths before regaining her computer and speaking again, “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to stumble into that sort of situation upon entering this place again. Staff wanted me to let you know Samantha was awake so you could visit. Her room is down the end of this hall and to the left. A member of staff will be waiting there for you to let you in.” “Thank you Eowyn,” he replied instinctively, but where his words were lost, the gratitude was not. The Coatl made a quick retreat out of the library, leaving in the direction of a set of nearby stairs. Her destination was likely the archives like it had been the past couple days. The posted staff member opened the bedroom door for Zylen to enter upon recognizing him. The space was much larger than he was used to, but organized in a similar fashion to his own. He made a quick note of the painting hanging above the bed, finding it to be that of a stylized pair of Gaolers fighting some sort of horror. After taking in the room, he situated himself at the end table, and after a few moments to allow the mansion’s guest to get herself situated, the two began talking. [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/537779856474243072/812506377326034994/totally_not_cursed.png[/img] Apollyon wasn’t lying when he mentioned Samantha being young. Her small size was due to her not being an adult, more in the middle of adolescence if the Fae were to guess. The blue and white dress she wore was dirty and slightly torn from the past couple days and the lace headpiece she wore was missing its central decorative element, but there was no mistaking she came from a rather formal family. In small talk Zylen picked up on her attempts at staying polite, the Imperial tending to stutter or bashfully look away when she slipped up. During their small talk, the Fae learned a decent bit about her origins. Her home clan was well off for one in Dragonhome. Samantha’s family held deeper roots than a lot of the others and made a living making and selling jewelry made from those found by those in the clan that dug for precious metals and stones. She was one of nearly a dozen children, and among the youngest, but unlike most of her siblings, she had no interest in their line of work. She preferred cleaning and refining the raw stones so that they could be cut and shaped for the jewelry her family made. On occasion, she’d even sneak out of the mansion with one of the inspectors, entering mines to examine that day’s finds or observing those in charge of cleaning such ores. Samantha was the one to bring up why Zylen had come in the first place, “That’s enough about me. To tell the truth, far more than I’d like to share since the family doesn’t know I’ve been sneaking about.” Her gaze became a bit more pleading, “You can help me with the nightmares right? Get rid of them? That’s part of what those hired into the Corvus Institute look into, right?” The Fae sighed, “I’m hired by Professor Saile, but that does [i]not[/i] make me part of the Institute. Sorry.” “But you can help me with the nightmares?” she pressed, voice rising, “Right?” “I need to know how they started and what you see in them,” Zylen was discovering quickly that he’d have to hide how little help he’d be to the Imperial. “If we know the origins and contents, it’ll be easier for us to help. If none of us can help you, we can always take you to the Corvus Institute or one of its branches to further aid you.” He did his best to smile, “Now, care to share how these started?” It hurt to see a little bit of hope drain from Samantha as she listened to what was spoken to her. Despite his attempts, something told Zylen she already knew that there was little that could be done here. It didn’t stop her from answering his question however, “A little over a month ago, I entered the mines to look at raw stones. I observed a new gemstone that day, at least I think it was one. What was visible from around the ‘trash’ rock was pitch black, but unlike obsidian, it shifted in the dim light, a rainbow of dull colors dancing across its surface.” She paused, fumbling with the blanket covering her, “I knew as soon as I handled it to get a better look that I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t a magical surge, but my body flooded with an icy chill and I dropped the stone before sprinting home. I didn’t leave my room until dinner, and that night the nightmares began.” “I don’t know how to describe what I experience. It’s always changing. I can never see, but there’s always different sounds and sensations.” She was beginning to tremble some, “Once I awoke to the ground crushing me, mud and stone forcing its way into my throat. Another I’m plagued with whispers of family members calling out everything I’ve hidden from them. Yet another I feel the crawling of countless bugs on my skin. They were always nightmarish and I’d wake up scared and reacting accordingly to whatever had plagued me.” Zylen took the time to finish what he had heard while Samantha reached for her water and a watermelon. Once the Fae was done writing and the Imperial back to being mostly calm, he gestured for her to continue. Samantha relaxed some as she picked up where she left off, “I started writing to Saile after that. My prior letters to the institute requested any further messages be sent to either him or Doctor Ambrose. I knew that I didn’t need to see some sort of weird dream psychologist about this. The origins weren’t part of my psyche breaking. I touched a rock and now the nightmares don’t stop.” “As soon as I began to get as comfortable as one with constant nightmares can, they suddenly became far worse. I’m not sure how else to say this, but they felt more [i]real[/i] now.” She was struggling to find her words now, “Like, if I woke up underground now, I was choking. I could feel the dirt forcing its way into my lungs, and believed that if I stayed there, I’d surely die.” Another pleading look, “This applied to [i]all[/i] my nightmares now. I started losing sleep for fear of death to these, but I could only fight off sleep for so long, and when I inevitably passed out, they’d come back full force.” Her face filled with fear and panic, “I fled home in hopes of making my way to the Corvus Institute on my own since help wasn’t coming. I had gone nearly three days without sleep when your coworkers came to escort me. I didn’t believe what I was hearing, but after being half dragged back here, and having the first peaceful rest since I touched that rock, I believe I’ve gotten the help I need. At least, when it comes to prevention.” The Fae looked at the young dragon, puzzled, “What about the weird memory wipe my coworkers experienced after interacting with you? Does that have to do with the stone as well?” Samantha was equally puzzled, “Memory wipe? I don’t recall that ever being part of whatever this is. Care to elaborate?” “Whenever I asked the others about what you looked like for their reports, only Apollyon could remember anything about you. Everyone else recalled nothing other than they knew they had the right dragon.” Zylen paused to raise his fans some, “However, whatever is causing it appears to also be stopped by whatever wards the mansion has on it. None of the staff have been having issues since you’ve gotten here.” “That’s reassuring,” Samantha smiled for the first time since before this conversation started, “So, what’s your verdict?” Zylen lied the best he could with what little he knew, “I can say for certain that your nightmares are certainly magical in origin, and have nothing to do with your mental state. As for why this rock caused this, I can’t say for certain, but it may have to do with the land itself. Between the magic of the territory and the countless dragons buried within the soil, residual magic may have pooled into that particular stone and what transferred to you is the final memories of the dead. They’ve become more ‘real’ due to mixing more intimately with your core magic.” “And can you do anything about this?” Samantha half begged. “Nobody employed at this location can be of any help,” another lie, but Zylen doubted Eowyn would want to see someone like her in her current condition. “However, I guarantee the institute can help. Saile sounds like a prominent figure there, so he’s likely to know exactly who to guide you to.” “O-Oh,” Samantha stammered, unsure how to take the Fae’s words, “Thank you I guess. How soon can I get this help?” “I’ll send a copy of what I’ve written to the professor tonight. If he treats this like he has with almost everything else, a response will be here in the morning.” Zylen raised his fans, smiling, “For now, I think you should rest. You need it.” --------- @Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge I live! Sorry for disappearing without posting anything about it like I try to do. Saturday was a VERY long day and it left me exhausted to where I basically crashed as soon as I was able to relax. I also had to deal with a tad more personal things over the past two days that left me a bit more mentally exhausted. I wanted to take time to recover before I posted again. That said, nothing to say here other than to start wrapping up this past mission the cast dealt with. I will say that as the map update has been announced, I may refrain from posting in this Pinkerlocke after I complete this next mission I role for. Since I'll have access to a lot of new locations, I'd like to not be in the middle of assigning a mission or building lore around something for this a day or two before the release. Finally, since it's [i]finally[/i] been another week's worth of entries, word and page count update! [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/537779856474243072/813634223403302912/Screen_Shot_2021-02-22_at_11.49.30_PM.png[/img] I've broken 70k words, and am quickly making my way to 200 pages! I know it could be far longer if I hadn't missed days, but I still take self care and other irl things over doing this. I still also have absolutely no plans to abandon this since it's basically the "main clan" of my account at this point, which is hilarious since it's only 8 dragons right now. Minus all the planned NPC things.

[center][b]Day 43[/b] [item=Potted Deepmine Fungi][/center] Samantha joined Zylen and the others that morning at breakfast. The Fae watched as she shied away from Apollyon’s understandably unnerving appearance, staying close to Jaxon. The two hit it off almost immediately as most first encounters with the Guardian went, though he wasn’t focused on their conversation. Instead, his attention was fixated on the Spiral approaching him, his red eyes reflecting no clear emotion as usual. “Can you help?” The words were abrupt, and spoken as if Zylen was aware of the context, “With what?” Fans lowered in suspicion, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. Especially with the bad reputation the Reliquary Room and anything associated with it accrued. “Relic gone missing. Not in Reliquary. Not in Archives. Not in basement. Want to search mansion. But have no leads. Can help with those?” “Can you tell me what this relic looks like first?” Zylen’s fans didn’t move, “I could give suggestions then. Although, you [i]are[/i] certain no one stole it?” As the Spiral opened his mouth to answer, there was a crash as Clancy slammed a fist at her table, clutching her head with the other. She let out a brief pained shriek before attempting to stumble out of the dining hall. Zylen watched fearfully as something black began to dribble from her mouth, silently praying that it was only ichor and not more of the sludge from before. Eowyn rose from her seat to support her coworker, and the two of them, along with multiple members of staff, began to head towards the infirmary. With all of Zylen’s hopeful thinking, he couldn’t help but feel the Pearlcatcher was only getting worse. And as letters between her and Saile were now private, he didn’t know if he was being of any aid. He let out a sigh, “I feel so bad for Clancy. She didn’t ask for whatever’s happening to her. Not to mention she doesn’t seem to be getting any better.” “I share your feelings. But nothing we can do. Up to her. May she get better.” The Spiral’s expression didn’t change, but the tone of his voice did reflect some semblance of pity to Clancy’s predicament. He shook his head, looking back towards Zylen, “As for relic. Mirror doll. Old and dirty. Covered in grime. Believed to be Plague-infused. Very bad in wrong hands if true.” “What do you mean if true?” Zylen hoped his questioning would not only help Apollyon, but also him as it pulled his thoughts away from the Pearlcatcher. “Documentation papers damaged. Most information speculation. Previous owners die. Reason mysterious. Believed to be unknown illness. So, author point at Plague.” A pause, “Make sense to you?” Zylen was all too familiar with his own documents, “Yeah,” he nodded, “I’m starting to get an idea too. I’d say check the kitchens, then explore the basements. I know there isn’t much in the second basement, but it may be there. If not those places, look in the attic and other storage areas. If you still don’t find it, I know of a couple guest rooms being used for storage as well that it could be in.” “Thank you. I will search at once. Bad to wait.” And like that, another dragon left the dining hall, just as the courier entered with the professor’s next task and a response to the questions Zylen sent off with the now-finished report. There wasn’t much to share with Samantha, only that yes, the Imperial would be equally safe within the institute’s walls, and a list of a couple professors who would be of some help to her situation. She was to be escorted through the portal by Jeremiah just in case, and she’d be handed off to one of the interns under one of these professors. They’d handle the rest afterwards. The assigned task proved far more interesting as Saile had provided them a potential follow-up to what had happened to Samantha. Using Zylen’s notes as a guide, the professor had located a case located nearby. There had been reports of “cursed ground” near some now-abandoned mines, that, while not believed to be haunted, had been the center of strange happenings. Usually the land was associated with disappearances or mysterious deaths, but there was one other fairly common outcome. Those who had visited the area or explored the nearby mines experienced terrifyingly real nightmares, similar to Samantha's. The only detail Saile could not locate were the nature of these nightmares, leaving that research to Zylen and the others. While Saile didn’t state who should investigate, he did state he wanted two or three to come along. With those remaining in the dining hall, it was decided Zylen, Jeremiah, and Howl were to take part. A dark history surrounded the land, so the decision to send their two best fighters. With Eowyn still in no condition to join them, Zylen was their next option, as he had the best understanding of magic after the Coatl. He was happy to get out and explore again, but at the same time, he was dreading what the three of them would find once they reached their destination. So, Zylen did the one thing he was used to at this point. He began to research. And like it always did now, he found himself missing Meir’s commentary about what they looked into. Sure, Jeremiah was a good partner for discussing findings, but he lacked the same energy and excitement the Mirror put into everything he looked into, even if it wasn’t his personal work. He always found [i]something[/i] to enjoy about what he read. It made what would normally be a boring task much more bearable, to the point that even the Fae sometimes found himself invested in the dryly-worded text in front of him. But that was in the past, and the present was a cruel thing. He was glad to find the location was a bit closer to the portal than their previous task. Shorter distances were always a great timesaver. As for the location itself, it was nestled in an area referred to as the Rusty Ravine. The name was earned when exposed veins of iron from mild strip mining began to rust. The strip mining itself was a project to determine good locations to dig deeper mines. After a severe earthquake collapsed many branches of the mines, hundreds became trapped and dozens died before help could reach them. With an already tainted past, rumors quickly spread that the old mines were haunted by those still trapped within the old tunnels. While these were quickly brushed off as spooky stories to scare off trespassers, those brave enough to visit encountered very real threats. Disappearances became common, with no trace of bodies or even a dragon’s belongings in most instances. Then a body was found and soon enough the place became known as the Den of Disasters. Few seemed to make it out of the ravine alive or well, and it was best avoided. Obtaining all this information was fairly easy once Zylen knew where to look, but something continued to puzzle him. There was no mention of the nightmares Saile mentioned. Nothing to point to a cause, nor any cases of dragons suffering from them after visiting the area. Either Saile was lying to more easily convince them all, or, as the Fae concluded, this phenomenon had come about recently. He didn’t know exactly when, but it was after Darryn’s time in the mansion. So, information in hand, he met up with Jeremiah and Howl, and the three began their journey. ------- @Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge I'm surprised I got this out after dealing with a pressure headache. It's made it hard for me to comment on today's things, but I can try. I will say oh boy plans be coming together and [i]I cannot wait[/i]. I've been looking forward to finally getting to this for a while. As for the task, I was surprised with my rolls, and decided it would be a fantastic follow-up to the previous one. The question now (for you guys) is whether or not this will actually tie into the previous task or not. If it does, what does this means going forward? If it doesn't, what is the crew dealing with this time? Anyways, I'm looking forward to continuing tomorrow! As mentioned yesterday, I will have a brief break from this before the map update, but for now I'm not planning on stopping unless something personal happens. [s]Or migraines. Those are always a looming threat to my writing.[/s]