25: The Morning Sun Has Vanquished the Horrible Night (Game Complete)

[Sierra]

<El-Cideon> Victory! In the aftermath of the Duke's defeat, the tower is silent but for a slight breeze sending drifts of fog rolling about around the tower. Maxwell alights on the ground once again; he immediately produces a wand to begin mending his grievous wounds.
<Madeline> "With the castle so fragmented, it is a wonder it took this long for the Duke's reign to unravel," mutters Madeline. "Still, it is done. The only thing that remains is to bring this castle back home and evacuate the prisoners."
<Corben> "All of them," Corben adds, slowly rising to his feet. "Even the ones who still remain with Larchmont, or others we set aside."
<Madeline> "There is at least one other in the library who I must recover before we leave," notes Madeline, inclining her head. "Maxwell, yes? Do you understand the operation of this castle?"
<Eliaphas> All the energetic zeal seems to flow out of Eliaphas, and in victory he sags as if twenty years were added to him. "It's over," his gravelly voice rasps out. The single thing that kept him living for the last forty years has been accomplished... and there is nothing left. He doesn't know what he'll do now... maybe just look for a quiet place to die. He's sure the others will handle letting
<Eliaphas> everyone go free, and he'll be one of the first to depart, his old bones stridently telling him that further activity is unwanted.
<El-Cideon> "All things in their time," Maxwell says, striding to the vacated throne with a slight wince, watched over by a fretful duchess. Upon sitting, stone vines or cables wrap around his limbs and hold him in place. His eyes take on a distant look and there's a sharp intake of breath. With some evident struggle: "You know me. Recognize my will. Shape yourself according to my command." Momentarily, the fog surrounding the tower disperses. Maxwell speaks again, in more controlled tones. "I have dispelled the tower's barrier. You may leave at will. Herd your peasants across the bridge and go. Nothing will prevent any of you from leaving now. Once the last of you has crossed, I will sunder Mistvalken's connection to the mortal realm."
<Madeline> "If Mistvalken never again appears in our land, then on behalf of everyone there, I would thank you," replies Madeline, inclining her head. "I am sure the others would as well." Curt as ever, she turns to depart.
<Corben> It goes unsaid that should it appear again, Maxwell, too, will be dust on the breeze. Without a word, Corben turns to follow Madeline outside.
<El-Cideon> You find the tower deserted on your way down. Maxwell's guards still wait at the tower's base. None interfere with your passage in any way, however (though the black-scaled monstrosity does offer Corben a knowing look in parting).
<Eliaphas> The way is clear, and Eliaphas gives a creaky nod before he turns to start back down the stairs with his two comrades. "It wouldn't have been possible without you two. I doubt we'll meet again, so thank you," he offers, splitting off from them to just leave while they set about freeing the prisoners. It's not that he has no sympathy, but his will to continue is gone and he knows they're in
<Eliaphas> safe hands with Corben and Madeline.
<Madeline> "You are only intending to leave, Eliaphas? Will you not return to the capital with us?" asks Madeline, pausing in her stride. "It.. does not feel right."
<Eliaphas> He pauses, not looking back as he replies. "My part is done, there is nothing left for me, child. Go with Norusk," he bids, turning at that last to offer a smile that splits his craggy face. And then he continues on his way without looking back.
<Madeline> "Ah, wa-" Madeline sighs. "It was a trial, to say the least. I don't think it's fair to go unrewarded," she notes, glancing at Corben.
<Corben> "Have the king build a temple in his honor," Corben asserts. "Train more men like him."
<Madeline> "I will be sure to make sure word spreads of his deeds here. But, people will forget those who don't make themselves known eventually," replies Madeline, shaking her head. "I must retrieve someone from the library, so would you go on ahead to the prisoners? I'll join you shortly."
<Corben> "I will get them ready to leave," Corben asserts, indeed heading off to do just that.

~

<Madeline> Madeline turns to step back through the castle towards the library. The oppressive air feels gone, now that the Duke is dead and their task is done. Her senses are no longer sharp, and fatigue begins to set in, but surely there is nothing left to assail them now.
<El-Cideon> The two pixies are sitting on the desk in the library upon Madeline's return, as if waiting for her. "Miss Kisantha said you were coming for her daughter," the green-haired one says sullenly. Both of them take to the air and push in futility at the heavy wooden desk, wings buzzing mightily in an attempt to move it.
<Madeline> "Yes, that's right." Madeline walks towards the desk, and without any swarthy barbarians around to assist her, is forced to just put her back into it and heave.
<El-Cideon> Shortly a trapdoor is revealed beneath the desk! The pixies settle down again and pant with exertion.
<Madeline> Madeline leans down towards the door, and knocks sharply on the top! "I'm coming down!" she calls, before reaching to fiddle with the latch.
<El-Cideon> It's unlocked, and down a short flight of stairs Madeline finds a warm and cozy bedroom--a cramped one, to be sure, stacked with old books and not leaving much room to move but a little pathway to a bed and wardrobe in the center of the room. Candlelight fitfully illuminates the little room. Seated on the bed, legs swung over the side and face turned expectantly towards the entrance, is a young woman: skin the vivid pink of a deep sunburn, tiny horns thrusting up through a glossy mop of black hair, eyes that are just inky pools with drifting specks of white. She's dressed only in a revealing nightgown which displays some obvious suggestions that she is indeed Kisantha's brood. If the horns weren't already an indication. A spaded tail twitches in agitation. "Are you here for me? Mom said someone was coming..."
<Madeline> Madeline shoulders her bow, and allows her eyes to dance across the girl's clearly unnatural features. "That's correct. Kisantha has turned you over to me," she replies, managing a slight smile. "I am Madeline, and I'll be taking care of you from now on. What's your name?"
<El-Cideon> "Shehazril," she chirps, adding with some pride: "It means 'Perfectly Rounded Bottom' in my mother's tongue. Oh, let me get my things together!" She hops off the bed and stuffs some books and clothes in a sack as she speaks excitedly. "Where are we going? What are you? Are you an elf? Oh, that's a rude question, isn't it? I'm sorry, it's nice to finally meet somebody else!"
<Madeline> "I will answer your questions. But first, please get changed into something less revealing," replies Madeline, sizing up Shehazril. "From now on, you will conceal your horns and tail at all times. And that name will not do for the world outside. Let's see..."
<Madeline> She clicks her tongue. "Your new name will be Eliza. Will that suit you?"
<El-Cideon> Shehazril immediately sets to shucking off her nightgown and donning traveling clothes, doing so without evident shame in Madeline's presence. "'Eliza,'" she says, trying it out. "Is that a human name? What does it mean?" She glances around the room and nods, seeming satisfied she has everything she needs. Finally, she puts on a feathered cap--"Oh yes, mother stole this from the prop room when no one was watching,"--which has the effect of at least rendering her skin tone and eye color recognizably human.
<Madeline> "I don't really know," admits Madeline, after a moment's thought. "Perhaps we can find out when we return? I will use your true name in private, and in private is where you may speak and ask questions. When others are about, you will not speak unless spoken to. And, of course, you won't discuss your mother or your lineage with anybody, no matter the circumstances."
<El-Cideon> "I know, I know," she says with a sigh. Brightening up: "Well, let's go. There's so much to see out there. I haven't seen...I haven't seen anything!" She gives Madeline an enthusiastic hug. "I'm sure we'll be the best of friends. If mom trusted you, you must be a good person!"
<Madeline> It's embarrassing for a demon to call her a good person. "I'm your guardian before I'm your friend. You may not like me so much once you get to know me," she notes, turning to climb the stairs out. "But, as promised, I will raise you until you can live on your own."
<El-Cideon> "I know, I know," she says, following Madeline up the stairs. "I have a lot to learn, I mean I've read a lot of books but I haven't done anything or, or anyone even," she sounds embarrassed about this latter admission. On reaching the library, she immediately corners both of the pixies--"And you two, you're coming with us! I don't care if you swore to somebody you'd take care of the theater director hundreds of years ago, he's a jerk and mom says he was only mad you couldn't make costumes for him anymore, so no arguments!" A glance at Madeline. "That's okay, right?"
<Madeline> "That is up to them," replies Madeline, glancing at the pixies. "I won't tolerate mischief. If that is understood, then there is no problem." She frowns. "It's good for you to be eager. For now we will be returning to the capital for ceremonial purposes. We will see about living arrangements afterwards, and then, your education. Remain close to me until then."
<El-Cideon> "Alright!" She takes Madeline at her word, sticking very close indeed as the little group rejoins Corben and the rest of the freed prisoners, the pixies buzzing nervously (but not unhappily, it seems) behind them as they walk.

~

<El-Cideon> Corben finds a crowd of anxious villagers waiting for him back in the hall--evidently word hasn't spread this far yet!
<Corben> "The Duke is dead!" Corben announces, needing few words to get the message across. "You are all free!"
<El-Cideon> And Eliaphas walks through the castle alone, crossing the bridge through the mists until clear skies greet him once again, setting foot in the ruined village. There is the suggestion of coming daylight at the edge of the horizon. There is also a corpse here--recognizable as the priest Hendrick, shot full of a half dozen arrows, wounds rimmed with frost. There is no sign of his protector.
<El-Cideon> The hall erupts with incredulous but joyous cries! And the people swarm around Corben to thank him and, perhaps in a few cases, offer the hands of their lovely daughters in marriage as thanks!
<Corben> "Madeline is gathering the last few of Mistvalken's prisoners," he goes on amidst the cheers. "Once here, we will leave this forsaken place behind and watch it disappear from this land for all of time!"
<Eliaphas> Though he felt some suspicions regarding Hendrick, Eliaphas nonetheless takes a moment to commend his soul to Norusk before he continues. He doesn't know where he's going. Perhaps to Sommevale, perhaps he'll just keep walking until he collapses and dies. It doesn't matter so much, now.
<El-Cideon> Nearby, from the shade of a sagging peasant house, a voice speaks to Eliaphas: "Pray tell me, human: you emerged from the castle, yes? Was there a half-elf about the environs during your visit?"
<Eliaphas> Really? Killing the Duke wasn't enough to grant him peace? With weary resignation he clutches his crossbow tighter and turns to the voice. "What of it?"
<El-Cideon> There is an elf standing there, dressed in robes of forest green. He merely nods in confirmation. "Then I will wait."
<Eliaphas> "If you mean her harm then I will not permit it," Eliaphas replies softly, not at all comforted by him sharing half a race with Madeline.
<Eliaphas> roll 1d20+27 sensing his motives
* Hatbot --> "Eliaphas rolls 1d20+27 sensing his motives and gets 28."12 [1d20=1]
<El-Cideon> "I expect that it will not come to that," he says, and it doesn't take decades of training to sense the palpable disdain and condescension in his voice. "That function is not mine."
<Eliaphas> "See that it doesn't," Eliaphas nods, leery of others nearby who may have that function. It seems his retirement must wait, despite the aches of his joints - he owes Madeline that much. Seeming to continue through the village, he actually conceals himself in the shadows and cover of sagging buildings, doubling back and finding an overlook from where he could interfere if trouble arises or
<Eliaphas> else simply disappear with no one being the wiser if it does not.
<Eliaphas> roll 1d20+22 stealth
* Hatbot --> "Eliaphas rolls 1d20+22 stealth and gets 30."12 [1d20=8]
<El-Cideon> The elven man continues watching the bridge's end, oblivious or apathetic to Eliaphas's continued presence.
<Madeline> "All set," reports Madeline, seeking out Corben and Elswith. "Shall we make our move?"
<El-Cideon> "Not a moment too soon," Elswith agrees, greeting Madeline with a grateful smile.
<Corben> In response, Corben starts walking out of the Duke's castle, leading the way for the others!
<Madeline> "Your father will be so glad to see you well," notes Madeline, falling in step with Elswith. "There will surely be a great celebration upon our return- are you up for it?"
<El-Cideon> And so the exodus commences! The prisoners flood across the bridge to freedom, tentatively looking for ambush in every shadow at first, but soon moving with eager confidence. There is a minor traffic jam at the end of the bridge as people jostle to move around a dead body someone has left lying there (and which Madeline and Corben might recognize as the priest they'd met inside), but otherwise the peasants bustle out into their village with joyous exclamations of relief.
<Corben> Once everyone is out, Corben will wait for Mistvalken to disappear. They have to make sure of that, first of all.
<El-Cideon> "But of course," Elswith says. "What am I trained for if not to excel at grace in social functions?"
<El-Cideon> The last one out is the muse, having evidently become aware of her own freedom and joined the train at some point. Once the final refugees have set foot on soil once again, mist envelops the bridge and then, without fanfare, disperses, leaving bare, undisturbed earth in its place.
<Madeline> "Ah, I thought you might be satisfied with a quiet, understated return," muses Madeline. "There will be no escaping an appearance this time for me, I fear. I would've preferred it to be understated-" She pauses, and turns to watch the disappearing Mistvalken.
<Corben> "It is over," Corben says gravely, satisfied with their triumph over the undead.
<El-Cideon> "I would be, certainly," Elswith agrees. "But some celebration is to be expected--" She's cut off by the arrival of an elven man dressed in luxurious robes of deep green, who seems to move through the crowd with an ease that makes them instinctively part before them.
<Madeline> "Ah. This may be awkward," mutters Madeline, eyeing the elf warily.
<Corben> "Your friend, Madeline?"
<Madeline> "I don't know him," she replies. "But, uh, there are only a few reasons I can think of for an elven ambassador to come here," she mutters.
<El-Cideon> "Madeline," he announces with considerable gravity, getting right to business: "As an official representative of Tir Na'Tolan, it is my duty to retrieve the stolen artifact Fallender Stern and announce your exile from elven lands. You will relinquish the bow to me now or retributive forces will be dispatched to seize it."
<Madeline> "Ah, is that all?" replies Madeline, with considerable relief. Since her task is done, the bow is hardly necessary any longer, and tossing it to the feet of the the representative is done without preamble. "Give my regards to His Highness. Tell him he should be happy that the bow was able to be put to more than ornamental use."
<El-Cideon> He retrieves the bow, offering Madeline only a withering glare before he turns to make his way back through the crowd and leave.
<Madeline> "If I had died in Mistvalken, I wonder if those same forces would have been eager to go in after it?" muses Madeline, shaking her head.
<El-Cideon> "They hardly had the courage to do so while you lived," Elswith observes.
<Corben> "Considering the timing, I doubt it," Corben voices. "They might have put a bounty on it the next time Mistvalken appeared."
<Madeline> "Maybe I should have kept it..."
<El-Cideon> "I am sure you can have one as potent constructed, given the bounty my father is sure to lavish upon you for rescuing me," Elswith offers in consolation.
<Madeline> "Only just as potent? It must be one step better, so we can flaunt it during the next visit from one of their royals," replies Madeline, unable to avoid a grin. "Well, shall we go? It's all done with, and there's a long march ahead."
<El-Cideon> "Yes, let's go home," the princess agrees. "Let's all go home."
<El-Cideon> ---------------------

In the years following the adventure, the half-elf remained a stalwart servant in service of the crown, ever by the princess's side even after Elswith's marriage to a foreign prince. Always spoken of highly for her devotion to her duties, she was nonetheless often a solitary figure as she was not built for royal intrigue and spent much of her time tending to the lands awarded her the princess's rescue, an ageless loner at the edge of court affairs, but always assisted at home by her quietly enthusiastic--and equally ageless--attendant.

The barbarian left Brislov with his reward shortly after the festivities surrounding the princess's return concluded, never to be seen again in that realm. Although noble offers of matrimony were set before him prior to his exit, he always insisted any land of his own would have to be claimed by his own hand. Wild tales filter back to the court from time to time, of sacrificial cults dispersed, of warlords vanquished, and of a titanic battle with a necromancer atop fiery Mt. Ignatius.

Though the two heroes spoke of a priest who aided them in their mission, messengers spread across the land to bring word of a royal award awaiting him found no trace of the man. Some say he retreated to a remote mountain fastness or the southern desert to meditate, others that he disappeared into the anonymity of a monastery. But as for the truth, only God knows.