The Convocation of Guilds, 1102

Friday
Chi, Benedict, Quinn, Sheyna and I were going to the Convocation of Guilds, and I’ve long ago given up hopes of a peaceful meeting of like-minded individuals in Erdreja. Usually, though, things don’t start blowing up until after you leave home.

This particular morning, however, began when I was going to do a routine check on the time frozen people under Archon. I met up with Arraxis and Mungo, the guards Quinn always insists I take with me, and was heading down when we were hit by an almighty crash of magic, which knocked me off my feet and completely blinded me for a few minutes. Once I recovered enough to explain to the guards that I was fine, we rushed to the chamber to find Sheyna standing over an unconscious woman, and the thin layer of dust that was all that now remained of some 200 Lantians.

Sheyna rushed the woman to the healers at the Convocation, while I helped Quinn set up things with the militia on Archon before we headed off. It meant that if there was any emergency I would be called back to look at the circle – don’t know how much good that would do, but would probably be better than nothing.

When we got to the Convocation, the woman, Althea, had been healed back to health and was talking to Kenny: Quite warned me that the Harper’s symbol upset her so I tried to hide it when she was around. Bloody Empire, still screwing things up after all these years.

Went to find Cerryn – he owed me a pint – but he declared that it was too dangerous to cross to the bar as there were rat things attacking people. A likely excuse. Though he was somewhat hampered: he’d met “something black, and slithery” that chewed his leg half off on Elvas, and the weird damage hadn’t recovered properly.

I also found out he was right about the rat things, as one of them had killed Febrica. Not the best start to the evening, but Laieth had got to her in time to send her pattern to the Green, so it wasn’t as bad as it could be.

A Scicilian turned up and told us that Benedict’s collar was somewhat more dangerous than we had previously thought, and wanted him to stop wearing it. Which brought the total of those in favour of getting rid of the thing and cursing Duncan loudly to quite a lot: this gentleman, a bunch of Gabriel’s mates from the Harts, and House D.

Found out that Satune was expected at some point this weekend, and Arianrhod asked me to think of questions to ask him for the Testaments interview. Somewhat pleased that someone other than me had had a suicidal idea, I volunteered “What is your favourite colour?” and ended up betting Bedo McYokel two copper that it was red. Bedo said black, Quinn’s money was on something pastel, and Treacle reckoned the answer would be “Fatal!”. All in all, it seemed a suitably ludicrous idea, and I wasn’t convinced that he would turn up for the interview anyway. And so to bed.

Other events of interest: Whatever had happened to Cerryn’s leg, it was catching: Vixen had been hurt in a similar manner by the Beast of Emmerix. By unanimous vote of the healers present Cerryn wore flowers in his hair till he shouted at me to get rid of it, some ghosts turned up and pointed out the pub was built on their grave, Davis turned up and stepped down (as Lifemaster, I mean).


Saturday
Got up in time for the guild leader’s meeting, of which I was vaguely proud. Not much to say: Aben got slagged, Scullion went off on one, no one knew anything about the cataclysm, archers forgot how Gabriel had died. Given what had happened with Severus at the Lions parliament, I asked people not to seal the circle unless it was vital, so we didn’t bounce to Elvas by accident. I was almost drowned out by Stefan and a depressingly high number of people shouting about how plucky I was to speak, and there was much thigh slapping. Bob’s legacy lives on, though how Stefan knew about it I don’t know. He wasn’t even there at the time! Gah. No matter how much I protest, it seems this ‘plucky lass’ stuff seems likely to stick.

The Lions had a faction meeting, where it was decided we should go en masse to arrest Farik Carter over Elenor’s murder. General opinion was that this probably wasn’t the way it should be done, but that we should sink or swim as a faction (quite literally, given the islands’ past tendencies) and so everyone went along. Upshot was Farik was under arrest but walking about (I think it’s called bale, Rhowann was doing the same) but there’d be a fair trial at the Heartlands. Which sounds best all round.

Met a Forever Tale Elf called Monet, who was really nice and we got talking. He said he’d ask his family if I could visit their library, which would be amazing. Then he told me he incanted by the Muse, which didn’t really fit with what I’ve heard about her. We had a ‘free and frank exchange of views’ (as my dad used to say) about the Muse, which happily didn’t descend into a shouting match – which was pretty nice of him, given that I was basically going off on one about his ancestor. She sound really different to what the Muse seems like nowadays: possibly there’s two ancestors of the same name? Or a parasite using her name? Interesting.

Then we talked about the Harpers which was very fascinating, though a bit worrying. I hope he doesn’t base all his opinions on the modern day Harpers on my views, since I don’t expect “To generally be the good guys” is the right way to phrase the Harper’s aims. Still, he seemed to see where I was coming from.

We met Scullion, who was in a nice mood and apologised to Monet for stuff the Enforcers had done. He also told us a bit about things they’d been forced to do, which was really horrific. I know I don’t get on with Scullion much, but I really felt for him then, and he did seem to be trying to change. Perhaps I should give him another chance.

A few minutes later, the happy shout of “I loov moi brick!” echoed across the field and I revised that opinion. The brick is a remnant of some city they massacred and if he got rid of that I think I’d be more likely to believe him.

Monet and I met a bunch of Incantors gathering incanting power for a ritual to free their ancestor. No, they couldn’t tell us why he was imprisoned. No, they couldn’t tell us his name. Of course we should help him, he was an ancestor. I must admit, I felt somewhat gratified when the ancestor was duly summoned, and duly began laying waste to the world. We duly chibbed him.

Cerryn turned up and borrowed my guild defender’s sash for a ritual they were doing – trying to power the sashes up for the attack on Elvas. I was a bit busy to get involved, but the guild’s new high ritualist seemed to have things in hand, so I lent him the sash. A sudden wave of undead informed us that the ritualist the Healer’s had found was in fact a necromancer, and had hijacked the ritual, the guild’s enchanted candle, and my damn sash. We were displeased.

Monet gave me an iron will by the power of the Muse. I got rid of it as soon as possible: I don’t know if it’s the same ancestor as the one we know but I wasn’t taking chances. He was a nice guy so I presume he forgot my feelings on the subject. Anyway, I ran around confusing people for a bit trying to get them to cast offensive spells at me, till I persuaded Gulin to Halt me.

Nothing much happened for a bit till the evening, when Phylis, one of the women from the Archon militia, turned up to go drinking with Quinn, and the Sylvan elves attacked (not related incidents). Turns out the elves were looking for the Mages guild but they attacked Quack instead. So we rescued Quack and they attacked Falcon. So we rescued Falcon and they attacked Pyrates. It was the same red-headband Sylvans as I had accidentally annoyed at Gorsedd, and they were using bone golems, which confused the heck out of the incantors by not having the good grace to be unliving and therefore dismissible.

While we saw off the Sylvans, it became increasingly dangerous to venture out alone at night due to the high unliving content of the area. We saw people bring back Kenny’s dead body, and Quinn, Nimue and I did the honours for Laeith and William the Immortal after we heard Laeith was missing. We hoped to rescue her but we were too late and could do nothing but return her body to the Green.

Satune and Golgamoth turned up – Golgamoth looked nothing like a lobster, despite all rumours to the contrary. I was disappointed. The pair started ranting at each other, both vowing the other’s destruction. Hesta the belly dancer swore her loyalty to Satune and Golgy fatalled her, so Satune healed it. Then a bloke all in white turned up and we got an overwhelming feeling of law and stricture passing into our minds – kinda like the opposite of sensing magic around Benedict. This bloke in white (aka the Pendragon) chose Gulin as his champion, and Gulin started shouting back at Satune. Golgamoth looked a bit disappointed to be ignored here, but couldn’t really do much about it. Satune started shouting back at Gulin, something along the lines of “You and what army?”

At which point Treacle came forward and silently put her hand on Gulin’s left shoulder. Quinn put his huge hand on Gulin’s right shoulder. I put my hand next to Quinn’s and felt Tsalth’s hand on my back. Soon the whole room was standing defiantly looking over at Satune, all clasping another’s shoulders and all channelling hope and solidarity towards Gulin. If you could do a Style wedge then I we’d have been looking at two pairs of red smoking boots, but sadly it’s not possible so we settled for looking threatening instead. It worked and the bad guys ranted a bit then scuttled off.

While Gulin tried to figure out what had happened to him, the Lions held a wake for our dead.

Other events of note:
Tried to get Cerryn to buy me the pint he owed me, and ended up buying him one instead. Phyllis and Quinn pretty much broke Vukith by trying to teach him to speak Erin; found a threatening note on the bards guild desk – corrected spelling and left it there; Sheyna was pretty keen for me to tie her up all night but didn’t actually do much were-ness given the heavy cloud cover; tried to get Benedict to the forge but the ghouls were too plentiful; Kenny’s heart was missing and rumours abounded it was either used in a ritual, or replaced with a potato.

Sunday
Started the morning with a bards guild meeting, in which we discussed moving the guild house from Selby, where there were altogether too many evil fae trying to kill us, and ran up against the problem that there seem to be things trying to kill us the length and breadth of Erdreja. Rockholme seems the most likely new base for the head guildhouse. The Sylvans have asked us to distribute copies of a peace treaty with the factions but we don’t like some of the conditions (like no incanting on each other’s lands) and so it was decided we shouldn’t get involved in case people thought we were siding with the elves.

We went to the Forge and talked to the smith in charge, and his golem Thingtallion, though Thingtallion didn’t say much. Apparently for the Smith to work on your pattern you had to lie in a sarchophagus, and then things got a little unclear. Benedict backed away hurridly, so Lemming decided to show him it was safe by going first – Lemming’s pattern was broken pretty majorly after the whole Law Demon thing.

So, Lemming lay in the sarcophagus and Thingtallion beat seven shades out of him with a big stick. Quinn caught Benedict before he got very far.

The Smith put the lid on, tapped things a bit with his hammer, then took the lid off and Lemming had vanished. Sheyna blocked Benedict’s exit.

Benedict gave some very valid and reasonably arguments as to why it was lunacy. We agreed, but ultimately his chainmail collar used to belong to an incubus and needed laying to rest. So he agreed to get into the sarcophagus a few moments before Quinn was ready to try and pick him up bodily, and we all prayed it worked.

It did! Both boys reappeared in the ritual circle not long afterwards, with (as far as we and Quack could tell) healthy happy patterns. Hurrah! We went back and helped repel an attack on the bards in celebration.

Then things got a big complicated. Actually, a big bit nasty. The Smith said that he needed more bits for his forge, so we agreed that was kinda reasonable and the Armourers said they’d sort out what the Smith needed.

He said he needed corpses. The Armourers changed their minds.

He hit someone. They turned to stone. We got worried. We also, for once, didn’t panic and after some hasty field experimentation someone (dunno who) discovered the cure for Petrifaction. Which is lucky given that the Smith summoned up some banshees and the whole thing got out of hand for quite some time.

Then the Smith was defeated and Thingtallion got cross, till Chi’ Nyan made friends with him.
All that was left then was to thank Stefan for an... interesting weekend, and go back to Selby for a sing-song and to watch Scullion break a chair. So, all in all, a successful trip.

Other events of note:
Since its didn’t really fit into the narrative, you cast Countermagic to every part of the person who’s a statue, and cure a Fatal wound to pretty much every part too. As far as we can figure out if you catch it really fast it just needs done to the place that got hit, but then the fatal effect spreads all over the body. That’s why a Sanctuary helps. Once you’ve done that, your patient is unconscious but stable, and not stone any more.

Cerryn still owes me that pint.

 

All Works are © Original Author

(OC Author - Marianne Wells)