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The world feels fraught. Sandpapered over. A Jove breaks out of the ward and sprints screaming into nowhere, disappearing in the distance both literally and metaphorically.
. . . Right. Well.
Hmh.
It would be proper to cleanse this whole site. It's a straight forward task. Takes half an hour, a few prayers. We've already done an invocation to Probos and the Empyreal today so we should have their guidance. We don't want too much lingering punctures in the Other. It might draw things . . . in. That would be unfortunate. Though it seems clear. The Blackstone was remarkably good at absorbing all this. Holding it. Strange.
There's no books about that, or any mentions of it anywhere. Phridon wracks their brains and everyone else collective thinks. It's not even in the Free College material on iconographic invocation, manifest binding or compelling of numenous vestigal exonomes.
You know what that means, people.
You make it out of this here desert alive, you can publish a paper on this! Multiple papers!
>... well now what?
Looks like Wickerlight and Rion led most of the footsloggers off of towards the distant village.
All the perimeter troopers should be around here, but they mostly dived for cover and went to ground. Actually, hang on, what's that noise on the wind? Is that . . .
. . . is that gunfire?
