>>6189204“Not entirely. Up until the very last moment, when we discovered the Nightrunner compound and the ritual in progress, our case was weak. True threats from the outer planes are rare enough they are easy to dismiss until it is too late. The council had no reason to share our suspicions; even I was skeptical for longer than I should have been. And they did provide some critical material aid in the form of wands, scrolls, potions, scrying time, and so on, as well as pass the intelligence along to our allies, including both Corellia and Corinthia.”
“The High Cleric never said anything about that.”
“I’m not surprised. Anya has never been the sort to think about problems when it is solutions she needs. She would have seen no reason to trouble you with closed doors.” You think for a moment. “Incidentally, there’s no reason to call me or my sister by our titles. We are all comrades here; our names will suffice.”
You spend a while with them after that trading stories, sometimes sharing gossip about the various kings and patrons you’ve all worked with, or speaking of the wonders and horrors you’ve seen in the outer planes.
“… But the fairest of all is Arvandor,” you say. “Nowhere is the land more beautiful, nor the water so clear and crisp, nor the skies so painted with colour. There the trees grow as large as mountains and the wilds grow unbounded. And the people! It is a world of passion and excess and pleasure without compare.”
“I should very much like to visit one day,” Emíl says. His face falls somewhat. “When we leave this world, of course.”
You lean back, pursing your lips, thinking about how to address the matter. The topic couldn’t be far from anyone’s mind. “With how isolated this plane is, it’s nothing short of a miracle we’re here at all,” you say, “but a miracle is a precedent. If we can enter this plane, we can leave it.”
Anya and Eva appear again then. “It’s about time, Ally. Let’s go to the godswood.”
“Any luck?” you ask as you rise, but she only shakes her head.
From the guest keep the entrance is just around the corner. You follow Eva inside as the rose-fingered dawn is starting to scatter through the trees’ upper boughs. The sky above is pale and clear and the air cold, though your Ring of Protection shields you from the chill.
Littered with deadfall and coated in moss and lichens, the godswood is as ancient as any part of the castle. Lord Stark explained last night that the Old Gods of the North dwell in the wild wood, and in particular hold a species of tree known as a ‘weir-wood’ as sacred above all; Winterfell’s so-called heart tree could be found here, growing since the Age of Heroes long before the written word. Grey-green the towering trees rise around you, armoured in sharp needles and jagged bark, the ground a tangle of hidden roots.
