Previously, the heroes had visited Jan the custodian at the Tomb of Saint Catherine and he confirmed that Prior Benedict was in Kingsport and could be found just outside of the city. Neamhan and Chakuq travelled to the Seat of Friendship to secure the support for the binding circle from Geolgothis. The tree offered its fruit; an exceptionally large acorn which carried its power. It could be used to power the circle, and in return the heroes would plant it “in the heart of summer” once they had made use of it. On their arrival back at Kingsport they met up with the other heroes and were ambushed by the Cult of the Dark Queen, who sought to take the fruit they carried.
Tenth Day, Second Ride, Autumn Twilight, 1262
(Silvermoon is waning, Bloodmoon is waxing, Darkmoon is waning)Luca had stayed behind in the Careless Wanderer when the others went with Neamhan to help Chakuq pass into the city through the Old Gate. He sat with Falka at one of the the hearths in the tavern as she explained what she had discovered at the Library of Ioun. Falka had previously explained that while she wrote her dissertation on the Battle of Three Force, in which Epidemius lost his Liber Bubonicus, she did not have access to the famed library in Kingsport, and so she was keen to explore what she may have missed.
She had found two books that mentioned interesting facts, not just about Epidemius, but also his nature, as a fiend, and as a fallen angel, which she believed could be exploited. She had gotten the instruction to find information about Epidemius which could be exploited by the heroes, which was not mythical or religious in nature, simply because it would not be as reliable as a battle tactic if it was. Sadly, she felt that she was unsuccessful, since most new information she could find about Epidemius was somewhat steeped in myth.
She shared the follwing with Luca;
Epidemael was once an ofanim, one of the radiant wheels, whose blazing revolutions traced joy across the firmament, his motion so swift it sang. He delighted in the harmony of creation, a living orbit of exuberance and virtue, forever in flight and never at rest. But in time, his boundless curiosity bent toward forbidden knowledge, and in seeking to understand decay as deeply as life, he unraveled. Cast down, his perfect rotations shattered into jagged purpose; he became a calabim, a spirit of ruin. Where once he danced among the stars, he now drifts through the unseen margins of the world, meticulously cataloguing plagues and diseases; each illness a grim echo of the order he once embodied, each record a quiet, obsessive attempt to map the beauty he lost into the language of corruption.
Angelarium, on All Angels, Including the Fallen, by Gustav Davidson, Imperial Researcher to the Adelheim Throne, 1018.
Before the fall, Epidemael was among the most resplendent of the Ofanim; a wheel of living light that spun through the upper heavens with such velocity that lesser angels could only perceive him as a streak of gold across the firmament. He was joy made motion, the embodiment of virtuous flight, forever tracing ecstatic orbits around the Throne and crying out with each revolution in a voice like a struck bell. But pride crept into his spinning, as it so often does, and where he once flew in service, he began to fly in exhibition; his speed no longer an act of devotion but of dominion. When he fell, the light did not leave him so much as curdle. He struck the earth and became Epidemael the Calabim, and the exuberance that once sang through his revolutions curdled into something restless and ruinous. He catalogues plagues now with the same meticulous fervor he once gave to celestial orbits, scribing the names of fevers, wasting sicknesses, and creeping pestilences into a black ledger that grows heavier with every age, finding in destruction the same terrible momentum he could no longer find in grace.
The Gyring Testament of Malachiel Sorn: Being a True and Sorrowful Account of Those Who Turned From the Wheel, Unknown Author, 974.
Falka had found that “Malach” was an archaic title for “messenger”, which suggested that Malachiel Sorn was a prophet of sorts. Their writing had been cited in several other sources, and it was likely a tragic figure whose vision was surpressed by the orthodox authorities and whose works circulated among infernalist, demonologists, and angelologists with equal parts reverence and suspicion.
Falka focussed on the Ofanim and Calabim information and found the following:
The resonance of an Ofanim is motion. They are abrasively insistent on action. They are manic, and fleeting, and tensed for action, and forged from the stuff of speed and manic swiftness. Once set in motion, they implacable, and unstopable forces of action.
When an Ofanim falls, they are said to become Calabim, devils more cautiously avoided than any other. They serve no purpose except wanton destruction. They are surrounded by an invisible field of entropy that can break down the integrity of any ordered structure within its reach. At will, the Calabim may impose their whirling entropic energies upon their physical surroundings.
Angelarium, on All Angels, Including the Fallen, by Gustav Davidson, Imperial Researcher to the Adelheim Throne, 1018.
Know then the Ofanim, whom the uninitiated call the Wheels, for they are indeed wheels in their truest essence; rings of fire and living light, eyes set within eyes, spinning without ceasing in their adoration of the divine. They are the angels of motion, and stillness is to them a kind of death; they must move as the river must flow, as the flame must consume, for their very holiness is expressed through velocity and change. They are restless by sacred design, carrying the Word of the Almighty to the far corners of creation with a swiftness that makes the wind seem leaden. To look upon an Ofanim in full revelation is to see a thing that cannot be contained by mortal perception; a burning circuit of divine will, here and then elsewhere before the eye has finished its seeing. They are not reckless, though they may appear so; their speed is purposeful, their motion ordained, and in their ceaseless turning they reflect the eternal dynamism of creation itself.
But know also that there exist among the Fallen those who were once of this choir and are so no longer; those whom the adversary has claimed and corrupted into the Calabim, whom we may rightly call the Destroyers. As the Ofanim are the angels of motion and becoming, so the Calabim are the devils of unmaking and entropy. Where the Wheels sang in their spinning and brought life and light in their passage, the Destroyers leave ruin in theirs. They are drawn to that which is whole so that they may make it broken; they are compelled toward the sound of shattering as their former selves were compelled toward the sound of the divine Name. Their touch weakens the foundations of things, of walls, of bodies, of covenants, of minds, and they take in this destruction a satisfaction that is the darkest mirror of the joy their former selves knew in flight. They do not hate what they destroy, and this is perhaps the most terrible thing that can be said of them; they unmake with the same impersonal ardor that a wheel has for the road beneath it.
Thus are the mighty brought low, and thus does holy fire become consuming flame when it is turned from its proper end.
Here ends the third chapter. Let the reader who has eyes, see.
The Gyring Testament of Malachiel Sorn, Chapter Three: On the Nature of the Wheels and the Destroyers, Unknown Author, 974.
She concluded that the natural entropy of a calabite could be used against it if it could be force to preserve, heal, or create something. This would cause dissonance, which would turn inward and attack the calabite itself. Luca took it in, and had to think about how that learning could be applied.
Later that evening, the other heroes – Chakuq, Emrys, Neamhan, and Quentin – made their way through the Old Gate, and up the Street of King Augustine only to be clumsily ambushed by a group of shadowy figures garbed in dark robes. The leader of the group demanded the heroes had over the fruit which they received from Geolgothis. Naturally, the heroes had no interested in complying.
Chakuq, who still held the acorn, decided to use his exceptional speed to head to the Careless Wanderer, confident that he could outpace the cultists. Despite having only minutes ago berated Chakuq for taking his horse to ride to the Seat of Friendship, Quentin slapped the rump of the golden stallion, sending it into action, intending for it to carry Chakuq away from the cultists. Before Walor could reach Chakuq, the hunter smashed into a group of street urchins that seemingly came out of nowhere. The children were looked frightened, some were crying, but they were actively grabbing and clinging on to Chakuq, frustrating his departure. It soon became clear that the children were under the control of the cultists. Hindered and unwilling to harm the children, Chakuq attempted to climb the side of one of the buildings to escape, while Neamhan used the storm to call lightning down on the cultists, Emrys used Toruviel and his sorcery, and Quentin attempted to keep the cultists from attacking others.



