Gwenllian, being the only ascended among the group, volunteered to check the area. To her surprise and relieve, none in the company objected or requested to escort her. As quickly as she could manage, she made her way to Twilit Stand, an area of Moonshade known for its rolling hills, high trees, and view of The Sanctum of the Vigil.
The moment she arrived she knew she was in
the right place. Countless death-touched
Satyrs patrolled the area, many standing around alters covered in candles and
bones. Gwenllian made her way around the
outskirts of the encampment, searching for a clear view of whoever might be in
charge. She got her chance when the
Satyr Minions’ attention was drawn by something to the north, causing all to
leave their posts; all but one.
Gwenllian made to approach the remaining of
the plane-touched but was drawn to the nearby alter, so recently in use. She crept up beside the alter and placed her
hands on the bones being used for the ritual before quietly dropping to her
knees in silent prayer.
“The Daughter of Bahralt begs the Vigil’s
Mercy on the soul of this poor Telaran.” She whispered, then silenced herself,
hearing voices behind her.
When she turned to see the owner of the
voice, she was surprised to see it belonged to the remaining satyr. He was larger than the rest, standing at
least double her size. His axe alone was
the size of her head. She crept up
behind him to observe, but realized part way through her progress that she need
not worry. The minion was now deep in
conversation, though she could not see or hear the speaker.
“Master, Twilit Stand is ours.” The minion
said. “Give us the order to destroy the
Guardians at Three Springs – then nothing will stand in the way of our total
domination!”
The unseen voice did not comment on the
request and the portal became dark before disappearing all together. The large Satyr crossed the plateau directly
in front of the rock Gwenllian was hiding behind.
After she was sure he was gone, following
the other Satyrs’ in their distraction, she removed the core of the transmitter
and quickly returned to Hartigan and Talvar.
“What in the nine halls is this?” Hartigan
exclaimed when he saw the device Gwenllian returned. “I’ve never seen a communication device like
this.”
“But the Satyrs,” Talvar interrupted. “I can hardly believe that the possessed
satyrs would conduct such rituals within sight of the road. If they’re spreading their corruption this
close to Three Springs, what has happened to the rest of the region?”
“I’m more concerned with the conversation
she overheard.” Hartigan said,
interrupting Talvar. “What’s most
important is finding out who he was speaking with. Maybe it’s that Brenin person the smugglers
were working for.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree
with Hartigan.” Gwenllian said.
Hartigan smiled broadly, but it was short
lived as he considered the transmitter.
“I’m not foolish enough to use this
Transmitter in town. The vigil would
never forgive me! Instead, why don’t you
open it at Bahralt’s Anvil? Bahralt
himself protects it.”
Gwenllian nodded.
“Get it open and find out who’s behind the
sacrifices at Twilit Stand and the presence of the Azure Blade in Moonshade.”
Gwenllian took the Transmitter and headed
to the west, towards the costal cliff of Three Springs. She knew the Anvil well. In years past, when she felt troubled, this
anvil was a favorite spot of prayer. She
placed the transmitter on the Anvil and took up the hammer that stood
nearby. Instead of shattering into
multiple pieces, the transmitter began to glow, expanding into a portal of
communication. Standing within the
portal was yet another Satyr, larger still than the one she had seen in Twilit
Stand.
“What?” The Satyr said. “You are not Drecht!” To her surprise, it smiled and laughed. “Oh, I see what has happened now. You will pay for your interferences at the
Twilit Stand, Insolent Whelp! Moonshade
is mine!”
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