Wealsun 3, 636 CY
We retrieved the piece of the Song in the City of Shattered Glass. But after fighting the crystaline dragon, we were in no condition to battle a 10,000 year old elf and her hoard of undead former priestesses of Sehanine. That wouldn’t be so bad except they made friends with Barty and got out of the city before anyone could shut them back in. Barty is really starting to annoy me. The kind of annoying that means I’m more interested in ending him at the first available moment rather than saving him. The clerics of St. Cuthbert think that Dr. Cartwright might have his own soul and are looking for it. If he doesn’t, it’s just another sign that Barty is a waste of good talent. I copied all of his research and took his journal. Reading the journal is like a typical night at the Festival of Shadows; creepy and nightmare ridden on an entirely too personal level and I’m only a quarter of the way in.
The scan of Idrys has been super helpful. I’ve started testing my formulas against the disease. I’m getting positive reactions, but not a cure. Yet. The stronger healing potion, on the other hand, came off without a hitch. They take a bit out of me and longer to brew, but the benefit out weighs the personal cost. I’ve figured out a talisman that will give anyone wearing it one shot to resist infection by the Suel lich. I’ve asked Idrys to help me make a quarter of them. I need enough to cover every guildsman and opt-out with enough power to attract the lich when his body is destroyed. All they would need is one successful resist to drive the lich into finding another body. I am making them anklets because they would be easy to hide after distribution. The lich and his Glivid-Autel infiltrators won’t see them. Hopefully we won’t need them at all. If we can catch the lich in a gem before he finds a body, we’ll be home free.
The apprentices mobbed me when I got back to the shop. They apparently liked their gifts. Everything has been going well in my absence which makes me think that it’s time to expand. Gavin VIII has hinted that he would like to see it and I can’t say I wasn’t scoping out potential spots in Zeif. It maybe all the way on the other side of the Flannaess, but has the added advantage of cutting export and tariff costs. And since so many vendors already sell my products, all I would need is a laboratory to make and supply, cutting out the cost of having a store front. Finding people I can trust will be the biggest challenge and, well, I’m not big on trust. My philosophy has been that I trust a person as far as I understand how they will act in certain situations. Their are only a very few people I trust in an implicit fashion. I’m sure the boys would be a little heart broken if they found out that they weren’t even close to being on that list.
Looking over my notes and sketches, I’ve identified something that really makes me want to strangle the the idiot who put the Bonewrack together. He broke the first cardinal rule of construct building: don’t mix genders. The bronze is female and the silver is male. The third? I still have no idea. It’s eyes are so askew on the head and pain filled, I’m pretty sure there’s nothing left of him or her, but it’s still a dragon and that pain radiates to the other two.
I’ve mapped out several ways in which to disassemble them and have settled on two: a fast way and an ideal way. I should really just prepare for the emergency way: planning with Jevan to open a gate to Celestia and dropping them in the lake of holy water. That would dissolve the binds on the construct and I would just need a floating disk to catch the hearts. I’m not sure what you do with a dragon heart in Celestia though. Do you burn it like you would on the prime material? Or do you bury it since it would technically be home? And what about the beating one? I guess I just give it to Bahamut and do my best not to think about it. I’m not sure which is worse: having your brain put in another body and your body being made into magical items or being still alive while your body is made into a necromantic construct.
I understand desperation, but so much is wrong with the Bonewrack, I wonder if it was thought up by an agent of Glivid-Autel expecting it to go haywire during the Fourth Siege. Whether or not they did, they are certainly taking advantage of its unstable nature now and its obvious they intend to use the Bonewrack as a distraction while they make a bigger move. If it were me, I would destabilize the pillars on the faust and cause an eruption. They’ve had enough time to set up a ritual to raise the dead faust if the pillars are taken down.
Soothing the Bonewrack gets harder every night. The bronze is easily angered and berserks without warning. The silver usually pushes me out of the way before the bronze starts thrashing against the edge of the circle, otherwise I end up with a rude awakening. The silver seems to be the only one maintaining continuous sanity. I’m pretty sure that his is the heart that still beats. I tell them to save their strength, to just concentrate on keeping steady, but every time I lay down to sleep I’m there at the circle. It’s the silver making the connection and the desperation is clear. The bronze was older than him in life and she is far stronger, even dead. The bronze also has more pieces of the unidentified dragon making up missing parts. And its misery effects her all the more. I wonder why they chose me. Maybe it wasn’t a choice as much as I was the first to answer.
I couldn’t sit and wait to get over my paranoia about the door anymore. The information I have is too important to wait on the boys to show up and the gods only know when they’d make it back to the City. I wrote up all the appropriate reports and asked Wil to walk me through the door. Her paladin’s aura was enough squelch my fear. I was able to leave Sir Sinclair with five separate and rather hefty reports. The first was on the vaccines. The second was on the Suel Lich and placement of agents of Glivid-Autel within the guilds. The third was on the Bonewrack. The fourth was on Barty including information on Valin Cartwright, a picture of Barty’s actual face, and the involvement of the Dark Herald. The fifth report was on the potential new undead types from the City of Shattered Glass.
He had something for me: the questionnaire I sent to Lady Danar. The penmanship was shaky, but obviously hers. She was determined to write it herself now that she has the use of her hands again. Her response confirms my suspicion that her arthritis was caused by an infection. The letter mentions that another guildsman in the Animators Society was struck with arthritis in his hip about the same time that she developed the twist in her back. Like her, he was brilliant and the lock to become guildmaster until the pain in his hip made him refuse consideration. He passed away a year or so after the fifth siege but his ghost hangs around in an Underfaust park. Apparently, he enjoys watching the apprentices play on the play ground constructs he lovingly crafted for them. I’ll have to see if I can talk to him.