If it’s worth doing once, it’s worth doing twice.
Author: Dennis
Atilesceon the Artificer
Previously, the heroes had dealt with the fallout of the victory at Old Llygad and in its wake made a plan to assault the Crimson Tower. They got a small group together and made their way across the lake, blessed by Sedna to allow them to walk across water. They defeated one of the guardian elementals, and made it through the protective dome. Inside the tower they found much like it was the first time they entered, but found a small imp named Sadwick who had been stalking them. Sadwick was one of Atilesceon’s companions, but one who was tired of being obedient to the artificer. As they ascended the tower they came across a group of horned humanoids with reddish skin who were Atilesceon’s disciples. Several escaped further up the tower and when the heroes pursued them they came face to face with Atilesceon himself.
Third Day, Third Wik, Æftera Līþa (Pasture Mōnaþ), 736th Year of the Crusade
When the confrontation started, some of their company were still on the floor below, funnelled in a single file by the trapdoor leading up. This caused some issues for Hejduk, Ser Fulton, and Gorden, who were all stuck behind brother Connal who was struck by sheer terror and frozen in the doorway at the sight of Atilesceon. When Luca tried to magically command Connal to move. He did, but not in the direction that Luca had intended. He fought his way down the stairs, through his companions, causing a lot of confusion and chaos; something which Atilesceon made use of when he invoked a horrible, toxic cloud on that floor, which took the four companions trapped there out of the fight.
As James and Astrid quickly engaged Atilesceon in combat, it appeared that any damage he took from their attacks was magically transferred to his disciples, killing them one by one. After the fight was over, it was revealed that each one of them was wearing a curious trinket on the back of their necks, shaped like a scarab, made from a Lyrium crystal with brass and copper finishing.
At regular times, Atilesceon’s tower seemed to act in his defence. Occasionally, an infernal tether anchored to one of Atilesceon’s enemies and transferring some of the damage he was taking into the victim. At other times, the tower conjured up the spirits of the doomed crusaders, and sent them forth to attack Atilesceon’s enemies.
Sadwick kept popping in and out of sight, harassing Emma in battle, but not really moving the needle much. After getting wounded, he quickly turned invisible and departed the scene of the fight.
Atilesceon himself managed to throw high level magic around, noxious clouds, bolts of fire, cones of freezing cold, and turned Astrid into solid gold. All the while he was trying to entice the heroes to tell him what it was that they wanted, that he could get them anything they wanted. His honeyed words had no effect on our heroes; they were determined to defeat the artificer.
And so they did. Eventually they managed to slay the fallen Senhadrim. Once Ser Quentin plunged his lance into Atilesceon’s body, the glamour that he had cast on himself fell away, and he returned to the pallid-skinned, balding man that the heroes had seen on the painting hanging over the fireplace the first time they entered the tower.
Before Atilesceon had taken his final breath, the spirits of the doomed crusaders rose up one final time, plunging themselves through the dying mage, whisking him through the open doors onto the balcony and over the railing, being tossed through the air like a bone in a kennel before plunging into the cold waters of the lake.
Another Murder
I was just informed that one my uncles, whom I hadn’t seen for probably 5+ years, was murdered in France.
He was a horrible man. I’ve seen him do horrible, violent things. I’ve heard stories of him doing even worse. Due to my father, and step father’s influence, I was spared a lot of his maliciousness. Regardless, I’ve been affected by having him on the periphery of my life most of the time and him intruding on my life some of the time.
The first thing I did when I got the news was break out in a smile. Somewhere it still feels like a relief, even though he was never as big a part of my life as he has been for my sister, for instance. The odd thing is that I probably don’t feel as relieved and happy about it as I would have if I had heard it when I was a teenager, when my exposure to him was much higher. Back then he was a much bigger influence and a much bigger threat.
It also feels strange that only now, when he’s an old man, probably sixty, he were to die. It would have made sense if he had died when he was younger, because he was so much more of a criminal threat.
I think I will have a glass of bubbles tonight, to celebrate.
Forty Years Old Now vs Forty Years Old Then
This morning I woke up and Joasia had turned forty years old. This is going to be an unusual birthday for her due to the lockdown. We had a conversation about whether she felt forty years old and she said no. I think most people have that feeling. I think the feeling is born from the fact that when we defined what forty years old looked like, we were twelve, living in a completely different time, where people who were forty had lived harder lives than we did. So what came to define “forty” was a life of often physical labour, bad food, worse relationships and then the normal rigours of time. Now that we have hit forty, it just doesn’t seem the same. We’ve had access to better healthcare, more extensive knowledge on how to remain healthy; better eating habits, better exercising habits, better separation of professional and private life, and a better understanding of what constitutes mental health.
It made us both consider how far we’ve come, from the girl growing up behind the Iron Curtain, to the law professor now living and thriving in England, and the boy who grew up in a poor family of scum and villainy who found himself by her side. I was the first in my family to earn a college degree, hot on my heels was my cousin Kim, three months my junior. And now my brother has earned his bachelor’s degree. Three people in that generation. (It’s a large family, and a large generation, so perhaps there have been a few others since, but not that I’ve heard of.) Generations of nothing, and then suddenly a generation that produced three (possibly more) college graduates. That’s a good indication that times have changed for the better. There is still a lot to do, and a lot to improve, however. And while we sometimes take a step back, I am confident that we will continue to take two steps forward.
Coronavirus
Last week, I was shocked at the rise in the infection rate in the Netherlands. It went from 8 cases to close to 400. Reading up on it a bit more, it seems to have a r0 of between 2 and 3, so that makes sense. Marrying that to the lacks response from the Dutch to take this seriously (cancelling events, closing schools, etc.) and especially to stop the false equivalency to a seasonal flu, made me a little nervous.
I was planning on going to Amsterdam tomorrow, but after waking up this morning to see that the U.S. had shut down air travel between Europe (specifically; Shengen) and the U.S., it didn’t seem outside the realm of possibility to have the U.K. do the same thing while I was over. I decided to rebook my flight for next month instead.
(This is the same trip I was going to take before the airline went into administration, by the way. It seems this trip was cursed.)