Lightning Strikes.

[Pickles]

Pickles sat at the desk in the Arcanist tower, her frown darkening as she stared down at the old Arcanist roster. Something was tearing at her chest. A name at the top of the like Ilyana - Deceased. She had never lost a friend before this, not so permanently. It hung heavily in the air, like a dense fog. The dread, the sorrow, the regret. The sudden realization, poor Abigail. She didn't know. She was so soft, so young, and so naive to the entire situation. She still believed Ilyana retired to the Colonies. It's true what they say. No one ever really retires. She would have to be told. It was for her own good. We had to tell her, like ripping off an old bandage.

It was a little ugly, but it had to happen. Abi needed to know the truth. But seeing her cry like that was even harder. How much she missed her and how she wailed in grief, it opened up old scars. In her grief she wailed and fought, screaming about ways to bring her back. There was no way it could happen, everything was already thought of and tried? Right? Suddenly like a lightning flash the was some remembrance of a book. "The Shattering" it simply talked about the those silly old legends, those stories for the children. Mondain and the Gem of Immortality. Shattered into countless pieces all containing perfect copies of Britannia. Everything would be the same, of course with some small differences.

But, it couldn't be true, could it? Exact copies of the same world floating around, unseeable, unreachable? All just a little different. Maybe one where the plague never happened? Maybe one where a little small change the outcome of a single battle changed the landscape of an entire war? The timing of a single spell changing the fate or future of an entire realm? One wear Ilyana was alive and well? It was all so mind boggling and confusing. Why couldn't it be possible. There is Trammel and Felucca, right? Mirrors of each other, the same, but with some minor differences. We could touch those?

Why not these other Britannia's? These other 'Shards' of the broken Immortality gem, as it were? If they exist. If we can find one. If we were willing to risk it. What's the worse that can happen? Entire world ending consequences where every last being is killed? What would happen to the 'shard' that we.. borrow that Ilyana from? Doomed to a dark, solemn future where the plague never ended and the dead walked the world, slowly but surely whittling away at every last living being on the planet until nothing was left but Guardian spawn and walking, biting, chewing death? Don't be ridiculous. 

It would take so much energy, so much power.. and so many fool hearty Arcanists to even begin. Terort Skitas. A good place to start. More research is needed. Operation fuck consequences, we miss Ily. Operation Yoink is underway.

[Leanne Martin]

Pickles and Leanne knew they needed more information. What better place was there to start than Terort Skitas, the Tower of Knowledge?

They ventured forth into the lands of Ilshenar, accompanied by a small force of Covian guardsmen. Moving from the gate of Valor south, they eventually arrived at the entrance of Tower. The Covian force was not told what exactly they were looking for except anything about the multiverse and different shards.

After cleansing the entrance of the undead bone men, the two leaders found an old, tattered journal, barely readable. But it seemed it was something they were looking for.

A warning, but the two did not think about stopping now. Venturing deeper into the tower, they encountered countless foul beasts, but all brave men and women stood proudly on their feet, unwilling to let any foe pass.

Pickles and Melior found another journal, and the first few were asking what this is about. Shard travel? It sounded confusing for everyone except Cadet Martin. Even Cadet Melior seemed to frown at the thought of it.

With caution and strong will, the force accompanied by an Initiate of the church, went even deeper into the halls, slaying vile gargoyles and even more undead. Leanne could see the sheer will in Pickles eyes to find more information.

It became clearer that Pickles, and Abi for that matter, weren't the first that meddled with the thought of shard traveling. Even more warnings and sad news along the way, but while Pickles seemed to be unimpressed, Leanne started to worry - about their goal as well as her friends.

A handful of notes were still missing, so Pickles and Leanne ordered the force to follow them deeper. For their friend and family, they could not stop now.

They arrived on the outside platform of Terort Skitas. It was calm, and they all knew that something had to be here. Dispatching a few minor threats, they continued to search for the missing notes.

"The person you seek is not the one you lost." The words in the notes struck Leanne. She'd stick this through until the end, but the more she read the notes, the more unsure she became. Pickles wafted the thoughts away. She had the goal clearly in view, and that was a lost friend. The notes pointed them to the library of Britain - a task for the two brilliant arcanists.

[Linaeus]

Pickles,

As you requested, I made the trip down to Britain to investigate that lead from Terort Skitas. I was able to transcribe a handful of tomes that may be of use to us, though the specific volume I'd come for had been sent to the Lycaeum for 'restoration'. I'm still in the process of translating what I copied in Britain, but my preliminary judgement is that we likely have everything we need to begin selecting a target for the bridging ritual. I'll be continuing on to Moonglow to investigate the Lycaeum tomorrow.

- A. K.

Pickles,

I have good news and bad news. The good news is that the Lycaeum had the book we were looking for. The bad news is that it's a cookbook, and a pretty mundane one. It's obviously a cipher, right? It has to be. The librarians must suspect the same - why else would they have kept it for so long, and now be spending so much time and effort to preserve the original? For my part, I spent quite some time testing a number of decoding methods before the Librarians insisted that I return the tome to its shelf. In that time I was also able to make a fairly accurate copy, which I'll be returning to Cove with in a few days. I'm optimistic, but take that with a grain of salt. If I'm wrong about this being a cipher, we may just have an ancient cookbook on our hands.

- A. K.

Abigail Keres sat at her writing table, staring at what she'd just written. From top to bottom, the parchment was covered in text, alternating between recipes for baked goods and complex arcane formulas. She'd been right. Whoever had written this had been careful to conceal the true nature of his work, hiding it behind a complex cipher. At the top had been a dire warning, in the same way as all the texts recovered in Terort Skitas. Was the author the same? Was it wise not to heed his warnings, which he'd clearly gone through a great deal of trouble to convey?

She shook her head, rubbing at tired eyes. It wasn't her call, she told herself. What mattered is that she'd deciphered the notes, and now knew what they'd need to move forward: Moonstones. Two for each attempt, and dozens of Power Crystals to empower the ritual to use them. Taking a fresh scroll, she began to write again:

"12 tablespoons unsalted butter. 1 3/4 cups dark brown sugar. 1/2 tablespoon salt. 1 egg. 1 egg yolk. 1 tablespoon vanilla. 2 1/2 cups flour. 1/2 teaspoon baking soda. 1/4 teaspoon baking powder.

- A. K."

[Leanne Martin]

The group of misfits used the new information Abi was able to gather and went to hunt for Power Crystals. Abigail told the force that this was supposed to deal with a secret attack plan of Vesper. Clearly, she was not the best liar. Leanne felt nervous. She was used to lie in disguise, but not when she knew exactly how dangerous their plan was.

Abigail led the people to Ilshenar, Leanne made sure to stay close to Pickles, while the rest of the troops followed the trio. Arriving at was once Blackthorns Castle, turned out to be rubble and ruin now. A few Jukkas and Golems wandering about, but no mechanical misscreation.

The three agreed to continue their search for the Power Crystals in Exodus. A foul place, filled with darkness and despair. The Covian troop took care of the lesser demons outside with ease, and most mechanical creatures inside weren't a big issue either - until a huge minion of Exodus went after them. The whole troop got knocked back. "Did she flinch?", thought Leanne, as she helped up Pickles.

Chaos emerged under the troops, but they did not fail, and eventually got rid of the gigantic minion. Soon enough, they managed to collect the required amount of Power Crystals. It was time for one, final step...

Gathering as many arcanists as possible and creating a portal to another shard. Leanne decided not to be there in that moment. She feared to be too much of a distraction. And for the first time in years, Leanne fold her hands for a prayer. "Great Avatar, please protect Liz and Abi..."

[Pickles]

It was finally time. The right day, the right time, the right phases of the moons. Everything was lining up. All of the resources were gathered, and not even a single speck of Blackrock was needed. It'll all be done with Power crystals, Arcane Gems, and a 'discount' moonstone. It was nearly the same thing. Some Tokunese knockoff version. But it was suitable. Better be, for the price I paid. We just needed the numbers. We needed  as many gifted hands as we could get to open this rift. Abi and I set forth explaining exactly what was happening, and how it was going to happen to Mercy. Abi was even kind enough to give a few visual explanations using some spare coins and recall runes. Mercy, bless her, was all in from the beginning.

Tom, on the other hand, took some badgering. He offered up his concerns, worried about getting lost in space time, or opening a rift to allow all sorts of foul beasts through. Some kind of unforeseen forces tearing us from limb to limb. Heresy. Blah, blah, blah. Honestly, I stopped listening after a while. He can surely be a wet blanket at times. But, I suppose every hardy group needs one. His concerns were put to rest with calling him a Ninny. Even Tom will stand up straight when being accused of being a Ninny.

With our gathered band of three willing Arcanists and one peer-pressured Arcanist we made out way to the ritual circle. There, way assembled the gems and power crystals in precisely the right order around the circle. Everything had to be perfect. Not a single hair out of place. We only had enough power to attempt this twice. Our first attempt, as it were, didn't go as planned. Our first configuration was with me in the center, opening the rift, with the other three surrounding. The gate did open. But it began to draw us in, the opposite of what we wanted. We wanted to draw her to us, not us to her.

Luckily we all broke the spell in a moment's notice. The crystals fizzled and popped and dimmed slightly. The angry void crackling and closing rapidly. We took a moment, rearranged our configurations, adjusted our spell slightly to reverse the drawing energies. This time all four of us would be outside the ring, focusing on the center, opening the rift to the other shard. Crystals creaking and groaned, energies sparking between them, the gems soaking them in and focusing them into the center of the circle. That angry, red gate opened it's maw again, a rush of wild energies and wind blowing toward us. But we held, and we held.

Crackling light, hair standing on end. Power crystals dimming to a dull purple. -Creak, Crash, Shatter!- One by one gems would explode into dust as suddenly a single, mud brown boot stepped through the waning, red void. The shrinking passage quickly drawing to a single pin hole behind the looming figure of light blue haired Witch. It was Ilyana. Just as expected. Nothing amiss. She was confused and bewildered. But that was quietened by the unified shout of 'Happy Birthday!' Just a surprise birthday party for our beloved friend. Nothing more, nothing less. She doesn't seem to know the difference. Though she still furrows her brow and seems confused by little things. That'll be ironed out. In time.

[Thomas Aylmer]

Ilyana: "Has the barracks always been by the sea?"
Thomas & Pickles, simultaneously: "Yep."

[Leanne Martin]

In deep night, Ilyana stood at her own grave, frowning upon it, accompanied by her cousin Leanne. "So... You made me a grave?", she asked. "Well, uhm... Was supposed to be a bad joke? Heh. Surprise?", Leanne replied, shifting around nervously.

"Cut the act, Leanne.", Ilyana said with a stern voice. "I know what is going on, I am not dumb. I read the Shattering, I know what ye and the arcanists did."

Leanne began to stutter and sweating: "I-I... Dunno wha' ye mean, Ily! S'all as it always was, aye?" Ilyana sighed deeply, starring at the dark heavens. "Don't worry, Leanne. I will play along this game. It's nay like there is much waitin' fer me in "my world". Funny, how some tiny decisions can create a whole other future... In my world, this was yer grave."



Leanne narrowed her eyes: "I... Died?" "Aye. Ye. And many others. There is not much left there of wha' was once Cove's army and town. Not much longer, I'd have died too. Just tell me... How did I die?" Leanne looked away to not show her tears to her cousin. "Blackrock. Ye used it too much. It eventually poisoned yer body."

Ilyana remained silent for a moment. "I see..."

"How did I die?", Leanne asked curiously. "Ye took yer own life. Ye felt guilty for the loss of... a loved one. But there was nothin' ye could have done. No one could have saved... her. Not anyone could be saved at all. Ye know who I talk about, aye?" Leanne just nodded, but said nothing, until she ran towards Ilyana, hugged her tightly and started crying: "I missed ye so much, Ily. I'll never let ye go again!" Ilyana softly replied the hug.

"I missed ye too, Leanne... I missed ye all..."