Author Archives: Dennis

Red Eye

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Last week, I flew to San Francisco for a couple of days to hang out with Eva, Scott, and the girls. The flight over was eleven hours, but went by smoothly. The flight back, however, was another matter. I knew it would be a rough one (flying west to east always is, for me), but the girl sitting next to me deciding it was okay to use me as a back rest, and the guy in front of me thinking it was completely appropriate to throw his seat back, spill my drink, and then continue to lay his head in my lap for the next nine hours, was a bit much. It’s 2024; I thought we had all stopped putting our seat back without at least having a conversation with the person behind you first.

It was worth the fun time in San Francisco, though. Seeing Eva and Scott was really nice, playing video games with the girls was great, and taking a driverless taxi was cool too.

Mourning the Loss of a Number

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When I moved to the UK I switched my Dutch mobile subscription to a prepaid number so that I could hold onto the number. I had that number since 2001, so I would want to keep it. One of the stipulations was that you’d have to use it at least once every six months or so. Unfortunately, I must have missed using it, and it got disconnected and assigned to a new subscription.

Goodbye, +31 653 212 414, you will be missed.

A Fun Day

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My passport is expiring soon and I was offered two choices; for a renewal, I could either go to the embassy in London or return to the Netherlands and do it at the airport. A quick investigations of those two options showed that doing it in the Netherlands was about three times as expensive, but it would afford me the opportunity to go and see my family, which I had not done since early December. So I booked two tickets, one to fly round trip to Amsterdam on the same day so I could submit the application, and a second for a weekend the next week in which I could pick it up. Today I went to submit the application.

I got up super early in the morning, drove to the airport, flew over and had a pretty smooth time submitting the application. The only snag was that the passport photos which I had made in England were not in the right format (despite the photographer assuring me that it would be valid for Dutch passports.) The lady who helped me apply told me that my photo was rejected because of my “cage fighter ear”, which I thought was funny. Luckily I could get new ones made at the airport, which took five minutes, and are actually better photos, despite getting very little sleep.

I took the train into Amsterdam, met Moulsari, my brother, his new girlfriend Kataryna, my friend Mounir, and Ruurd and my sister for a big, steak lunch. Had a blast. Ruurd and my sister dropped me off at the airport. The airport was quiet. I breeze through security. Flew back to England and drove home. I’m pretty tired, but I’m feeling good about it. It was such a fun day.

Next week I fly back on Thursday evening, pick up my new passport on Friday and fly home on Sunday. I’ll have a bit more time, and if it’s half as fun as today was, then it’s worth the time and effort.

Sly and Subtle Folk

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Previously, Neamhan delivered Quentin’s steel-bound letter to the Beauclair delegation’s camp, meeting both Lord Dorian and Highlord Gauthier. Finding that Lady Gwenaëlle was part of the delegation, Neamhan felt it important to try one more time to restore Quentin’s memory of his betrothed.

Third Day, Second Ride, Autumn Twilight, 1262

(Silvermoon is waning, Bloodmoon is waning, Darkmoon is waning)

Neamhan flew east, Quentin clutched in her vicious talons, for several hours until Gheolgothis, the enormous tree that formed the Seat of Friendship with its boughs, came into sight. She decided to land a few minutes to the north to give her some privacy to change back to her elven form, and for Quentin to gather himself after the cold and uncomfortable flight. The had departed at the eleventh bell, and they walked into the clearing of the Seat of Friendship just past the second bell past noon.

As they approached they noticed a druid, wearing a green tartan, in the tree-line, accompanying a comely, young woman, who had gathered firewood together. In the clearing, another druid, this one wearing a blue tartan, was tending to a modest bonfire. The last druid, wearing a red tartan, a thick fur, and a hood adorned with antler parts, was going around the clearing, talking to the different folk that came to rest underneath the great oak’s protection. Neamhan knew him as Ciarán.

There was a group of szygani fixing a wagon, a halfling couple having a picnic, a troop of dwarves finding some rest, and a merchant with several guards preparing to head to Kingsport. There were also two women, one middle-aged, the other one elderly, who were sitting at a small fire preparing food. Besides them stood a powerful, horned bull with a black hide, restlessly stomping the ground and occasionally rutting one of its horns through the soil.

When Ciarán noticed Neamhan and Quentin he made his way over to chat. When Quentin introduced himself, Ciarán immediately recognised him to be one of the Heroes of the White Eye. The druid went to ask for some food from the halflings and brought it back to the heroes, together with some warm tea. Neamhan explained that Quentin had lost part of his memory, which she wanted to restore, using the Seat of Friendship as a place of power to boost the efficacy of the ritual. When Ciarán asked after the source of Quentin’s memory loss, Neamhan explained that she was opposing the Ladies of Three. Ciarán said that while she was welcome to use the Seat of Friendship as a place to perform her ritual, he could not aid her in any way, lest the druids lose their neutrality. He showed the heroes a burrow in between the massive roots of Gheolgothis, which the druids used for shelter, and offered that as suitable place to perform the ritual, away from the eyes of any travellers.

While the heroes continued to talk to Ciarán about druidic magic and the influence of the moons, the restless bull become more and more restless, and louder in its protestations. One of the three women went try and calm the beast, and was aided by one of the druids. Ciarán decided to leave Neamhan and Quentin to their conversation as they prepared for the ritual. Neamhan tried to guide Quentin to find connection to Gheolgothis, and later to the swan of House Morvrayne, but the constant rutting of the bull became an undeniable distraction.

Neamhan lost her patience with the situation and went over to check on the bull and see if she could get it to calm down. The woman who was dealing with the bull was being very rough with it, and the druid was nearby but did not look about to interfere with the woman’s handling of the beast. Neamhan reached out and asked the bull what was wrong. The only thing that came back was frustration, anger and sadness, it kept lamenting its position and questioning why it was in the situation it found itself in. “Why me?” it asked, “I did everything I was supposed to! I made a mistake…”

Granny Griselda, the older woman, interrupted Neamhan, warning her to stay away from her bull. She seemed unconcerned for the beast’s well-being, and when Neamhan, in a fit of frustration, asked her whether the elderly woman was evil, she casually responded that indeed, she was. It suddenly hit Neamhan that the three women, the mother, the maiden, and the crone, were not there by coincidence. A chill went down Neamhan’s spine, and she asked the old woman not who she was… but what she was.

It felt as if time inside the glade had come to a stop. Only Neamhan, Quentin and the three women were there, while everyone else seemed frozen in time. What are you? That question hung in the an air pregnant with tension.

Most fae are sly and subtle folk,
who step as soft as cauldron smoke.

Some go among your kind enshaedn,
glamoured like an oxen laden.

Or wearing gowns to fit a queen,
we know enough to not be seen.

Many of the darker sort
would love to use you for their sport,

and make you pawns within their within their court.
Sacrifice you, no last resort.

What keeps them from their moonlit trespass?
Iron, fire, mirror-glass,

elm, and ash, and copper knives,
and solid-hearted farmer’s wives,

who know the rules of games we play
and give us bread to stay away.

But worst of all, my people dread,
the portion of the power we shed,

when we set foot on mortal earth,
you are more trouble than you’re worth.

While moons are full you may still laugh,
but know there is a darker half.

A clever mortal fears the night
without a hint of sweet moonlight.

On such a night each step you take
might catch you in the Darkmoon’s wake,

and pull you witless into fae,
where you’ll have no choice but to stay.

And on such unfamiliar ground,
how can a mortal help but drown?

Unless they are of lineage pure,
yes, then perhaps they might endure.

And if they’re meant to keep the gate,
protect the threshold t’be their fate,

then their blood best not be banal,
not common stock, but sangreal.

At that point, both Mother Dudenka, and Maiden Meshka, the maiden, joined Granny Griselda to raise their hands in the air, and repeated “Sangreal! Sangreal!”

Granny Griselda offered Neamhan the option of bargaining for Quentin’s memory, and when it looked as if Neamhan was considering it Quentin strongly objected. He felt that he struck a bargain with the Good Sisters and that it was his burden to bear. He did not want Neamhan to be indebted to the sisters as well. Neamhan realised that if the sisters were ready to bargain with her that they must think that Neamhan could succeed. This emboldened her, and she returned with Quentin to the druid’s burrow between the trees roots despite Quentin pleading with her not to go through with it.

Neamhan communed with Gheolgothis only to learn that the Good Sisters were owed hospitality, as were the heroes. It would not interfere, but would also not allow either party to interfere with one another. As such, it kept the necrophages that had begun prowling along the outskirts of the Seat of Friendship, undoubtedly at the call of the sisters, at bay.

The sisters watched calmly, smiling, as Neamhan performed the ritual. This time she was able to break the hold the sisters had over Quentin’s memory, aided by the place of power. Quentin could once again remember, both Gwenaëlle, as well as the deal he struck with the sisters. The one thing that was missing, the thing that was not restored, was any sense of affection for his betrothed. He felt no fondness, no warm, only duty.

The sisters continued to smile, claiming that a bargain had been struck. They quietly turned away and started to prepare for their departure from the Seat of Friendship. Quentin, recovered from the realisation of what happened, ran back to the clearing and yelled that there were necrophages. The visitors sprang into action; the dwarves grabbed for their weapons, the guards that accompanied the merchant moved into a defensive position, and the druids each covered a side of the woods around Gheogothis.

The necrophages soon disappeared as the sisters departed from the Seat of Friendship. Neamhan and Quentin said their goodbyes to the druids and headed north, into the woods. Frustration overcame Quentin as Neamhan turned into her eagle form. “What have you done!?” he raged, before Neamhan carried him back to Kingsport.

Last Minute Errands

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Previously, the heroes had attempted to rally support for their plan to oppose Epidemius when he would reappear in Kingsport. Luca and Emrys had spoken to the head archmage at the Circle of Magi, and Quentin had written a letter to his father that Neamhan had delivered.

Second Day, Second Ride, Autumn Twilight, 1262

(Silvermoon is in high sanction, Bloodmoon is waning, Darkmoon is waning)

As Neamhan flew west to deliver Quentin’s steel-bound letter to his father, Luca found his way to the Tomb of St. Catherine in order to speak to Jan. He found the custodian in a private chapel inside the abbey. It was lit by hundreds of candles and besides Jan, who was sitting in front of the altar, there was only his wife, who was feverishly praying behind a wooden partition.

Jan was recovering from surgery which had taken more of his arm than had already been taken by Xarrombus, and he had bandages around his shoulder which were stained with blood. He looked sweaty and feverish, which Luca took to be the same malady that had been afflicting all the wounded and sick in the city ever since Epidemius had first appeared.

Luca attempted to talk to Jan about the whispers he had heard and the dark mist he seen, but it was a difficult conversation, fraught with misunderstanding. When Luca said that he had a patron, Jan drew the wrong conclusion, and Luca had to tell him that the patron was a celestial being. Jan was still unsure, and had tried to deny the voice in his head by praying to St. Catherine. That, as well as the sudden elevation in status within the order of custodians, the revelations he had been exposed to, and the injury he had sustained, it had put a lot of pressure on him.

The two sat together for a while, both praying, until eventually Jan went back to singing his lament. Luca quietly left the chapel and went back to the Careless Wanderer.

Quentin was still raw from the cryptic revelations that Vydia had shared with him earlier, and decided to retire to his room soon after supper. To find peace, he decided to fall back on the rituals and ceremonies that he was taught by Cardinal Roark, and prayed to the Raven Queen for guidance.

Sparked by Vydia’s revelations about the petrified rose, Emrys decided to retrieve his lute from his new lute case and compose a song about the Lady Without Ending. And Chakuq spent the evening in song, to centre himself and calm his mind.

When Luca returned to the Careless Wanderer, he did something he had never done before; he asked Durham for a drink. Durham quickly surmised that the weight of the world was pressing down on Luca’s shoulders, and he called Lauryn, Ramsey and Wojciech to join. He poured each a cup of viscous liquor the colour of dandelions, made by Wojciech, and for a few minutes, all five of them were enjoying the drink in silence together. It tasted of honey and herbs.

Third Day, Second Ride, Autumn Twilight, 1262

(Silvermoon is waning, Bloodmoon is waning, Darkmoon is waning)

Around the fourth bell, Neamhan finally arrived in Kingsport and found that Lauryn had woken up from her reverie, just in time to let Neamhan inside so she could find her bed and get some rest.

Between seventh and eighth bell breakfast was served and most of the heroes woke up. Chakuq asked after the gear that the heroes had gathered during their adventures, and how it might be useful in their opposition to Epidemius. This spawned a conversation about visiting Ecgbrith, the cantankerous herbalist who lived on the outskirts of Kingsport. He always charged extortionate prices for restorative ointments and healing draughts, but it might be worth the visit.

Céleste Deschamps came calling to the Careless Wanderer once again, together with two stevedores and she followed Durham down into the basement in order to retrieve more wine barrels and transport them onto a river boat by way of the quayside dock.

Quentin shared his decision to stay away from the auctioneer who was going to validate the authenticity of Róisín. He would need the sword while he opposed Epidemius, and therefore maintaining a ruse would be very challenging. Quentin was coming around to the idea of giving up the sword, but not before helping the two personalities inside the sword find an equilibrium.

Neamhan eventually woke up just before the tenth bell, and found her way downstairs  to join the others for a late breakfast. When she relayed the news that cavalry was coming for Kingsport everyone got very excited, especially Quentin. Neamhan believed there to be between sixty and seventy riders, a combination of riders from House Morvrayne and knights of the Order of the Lance.

After explaining that Highlord Gauthier was travelling with his daughter, Neamhan suggested taking Quentin to the Seat of Friendship for another attempt at breaking the curse of the Sisters of the Grove and restoring Quentin’s memory of his betrothed. She convinced Luca to give her a lyrium crystal, since she would need materials to perform the ritual, and she could substitute them for the crystal.

Before departure, Quentin spends some time in his room together with Ser Fulton’s shield. The shield had been in his possession ever since the knight died in Atilesceon’s tower, but he had never truly unlocked the powers of the shield. He spent some time etching the names of Hejduk, Ser Fulton, Astrid and Hamish into the back of the shield, to represent the people that Quentin felt he had not been able to save. Spending that time with the shield allowed Quentin to access the deeper magics that the shield possessed.

Neamhan and Quentin departed and left the city through the Eastern Gate and found a secluded spot about a mile out for Neamhan to transform into a giant eagle. She snatched Quentin up in her talons and flew off, heading east towards the Seat of Friendship.

Chakuq picked up his silvered dagger and silver-tipped arrows from Dagran, and the heroes went to visit Ecgbrith while they waited for Lady Commander Miranda to come back from patrolling the skies above Kingsport. The herbalist, who lived in a wooden cottage on the eastern outskirts of Kingsport, was, predictably, in a bad mood. But the heroes died find him willing to part with some of his salves, ointments and draughts. His prices were incredibly high, and while the heroes possessed many riches, those did not come in the form of hard coin, which made paying for the goods a problem.

After some haggling and Luca binding himself in a promise, the heroes bought a healing draught for Astrid, and four potions which would temporarily bolster the constitution of the one to drink it. The promise that Luca bound himself to was to pay Ecgbrith 400 gold crowns by Midsummer, which was half the crowns that was owed on the potions.

The visit to the lady commander was uneventful. The heroes learned that she and Lieutenant William had been in conversation about blocking off Steward’s Square, which was in line with what the heroes wanted. She could also inform the heroes that both the crownsguard as well as the custodians would be ready to defend the square and the city from Epidemius. When she learned about the approach of the riders from the delegation, she mused that it was likely that the pride of the Lyrian knights did not allow them to let the Beauclair knights take the honour of defending the city.

Unfortunately, despite Neamhan’s request for the heroes to ask Lady Commander Miranda whether she would be allowed to visit with Frostfeather, her griffon, they forgot before leaving just before noon.