Black Glass

[Mallory]

April 12th, 2019 - late afternoon, following Jonn's attack, and Mallory's subsequent ambush...

Mallory's progress across the Twilight Isle would have been rather slow today, her features still a little pale from last night's blood loss, and dark circles of exhaustion visible through her makeup, but she wasn't going to the Tower on foot. Instead she rode on the back of a massive, shadow-formed hound with four blazing red eyes, a cleft tail and a forked tongue, her hands clenched in its thick fur as it padded across the hot, barren approach to Andrea's domain.

She had sent a messenger moth ahead, a tiny red thing to tell the Keeper she was coming, and ask for a meeting. She came up to the lip of the caldera that contained the lava lake, bracing her eyes against the wave of heat that made her hound bare its teeth and huff a breath. Then she climbed off, slowly draining a large bottle of water as she waited for Andrea.

Nothing had changed with the lake of fire as Mallory waited. Time ticking away, turning from mere seconds to a passing minute — then two, until a voice came. "Greetings," it said, and it did not belong to the woman who had claimed the Tower of Fire as her own. The voice came from the lava itself, until a flickering ball of fire rose from bubbling magma, which then began to grow and take shape. Humanoid, or humanoid enough, could best describe the elemental of fire. While it had arms and the shape of a rather brawny individual, it lacked in the lower appendages department and only held a wisp of a rather large looking tail that hovered just above the cracking black rocks it floated over.

"I've been instructed to show you into the tower. The lava and flames are quite dangerous to those who do not hold the key... unless you are of red draconic origin or something of the sort... or whatever you people in this plane are now, since there's far too many types of you for me to really care for..." The elemental's voice was monotonous and dull, as if it weren't interested in doing its current job. "Please. Follow me. And should you succumb to the heat, know that I will not be taking responsibility."

It turned and began to bob and weave as it hovered over the still churning lava. As it passed, the lava began to cool to the point of allowing itself to harden and create a bridge of sorts toward the volcano proper.

Mallory gave no answer to the elemental, merely followed it up to the edge of the lake. She paused before the bridge, removed her right glove, and closed her ember-like hand around the ruby-hilted sword on her back, drawing it with a hiss. Its silver length burst into flame, and it wreathed her hand and all the way up to her elbow --

-- and the heat seemed a little more bearable. She moved carefully along the bridge after the creature, minding her feet, holding the sword out for better balance as she went.

"You will enter here. The one who I begrudgingly call Master currently will be below. Follow the stairs, do not deviate from the stairs. This is a simple warning that I'm sure one of your kind can understand." The elemental's form seemed to collapse into itself, only to reform so that it appeared as if it were now looking at Mallory. The blue hue which made up facial features, such as its eyes, were set squarely on her. "A stone platform will await you at the bottom of the stairs. Keep your arms close to your side and prepare to keep your balance, or else there will be a quick trip into the inferno for you. This will take you to the forge, where the Master is currently waiting... working... wasting time. Do you need me to repeat any of these instructions?" it asked, but then didn't seem to wait for an answer. "No? Good." And with that, nothing was left of the elemental except for a smoky haze hanging in the air.

The gates of the Tower of Fire opened in reaction. Creaking from the strain of the drawing back of both doors until a shuttering bang echoed. There had been darkness inside for only a passing moment before flames began to spark to life and show the interior. It was... nothing special, by the looks of it. Most likely Andrea had seen to some changes for her stay, or much couldn't be seen from this position. The fires themselves acted as candles to guide Mallory toward the stairs, while much beyond where the flame touched, as if magically veiled by darkness, was kept out of eye's reach.

The heat seemed less in here, and as the elemental vanished and the gates creaked open, Mallory sheathed the blade on her back and began to follow the fire. There was no break in her stride when she raised her left hand and bit down on the soft skin between thumb and forefinger. She passed blood before her eyes and they turned solid red with a witch's Sight.

One had to mind their feet in here, after all.

She followed her instructions with care, and as she reached the bottom of the stairs, balanced herself against the sudden lurch as the darkened platform began to drop as soon as she set foot upon it. It lowered through a shroud of darkness for a moment, and then there was light — an inferno of light. A gust of heat came with it, along with the sight of lava as far as the eye could see. Beneath the Isle and well within the volcano itself, the lava bubbled, churned, and flowed through the underground, but there was something in the middle that withstood the fury of the element of flame. A giant platform of dark gray rock, craggy around the edges but smooth and flat as it came to the middle... and in the center sat a large black anvil. Runes of fire glowed from it with each strike of the hammer that the lone woman below made.

As the platform continued to lower, the hammer strikes grew louder, until finally it shifted forward and began a slow, diagonal drift, allowing Mallory to depart safely onto the rocky surface below. Her boots scrambled for purchase until she steadied herself, and raised her right hand to shield her eyes as she pressed towards the center of the little island. When only twenty feet separated her from the toiling smith, she called out to her:

"Andrea."

"One second." There was one more heavy slam of the hammer, then she set it to the side and lifted the glowing blade. Andrea turned and lowered the weapon to quench it. It sizzled and steam rose, far more than what Mallory knew was normal from Izumi's forge, as if the blade itself had been tempered with the fires of the elemental plane. Andrea's ash covered features turned to look to Mallory. Eyes hidden beneath goggles for only a moment until she raised a hand to lift and rest them against her forehead. "It's going to need to be in there for about an hour... Last time I took one out early, it burst into flames." She stepped closer, peeling off her gloves as she closed the distance, and casually tossed them aside.

The inferno itself seemed to relax, and the air grew less heated. Not by much, but enough that the witch began to feel more comfortable. It seemed to have something to do with the anvil, and with it now not in use, the volcano itself seemed to be at relative peace.

Andrea looked at Mallory, then raised her arms in that Well, what is it? sort of way while shrugging her shoulders.

Mallory was sweating profusely now, but now that Andrea was waiting on her, she didn't waste any time wiping it away. She simply stretched out her left hand and bent her ring finger in towards her palm -- the nail grew long, claw-like, and pierced through her skin. A split second later, an illusion of an obsidian pendant rose from the small pool of blood in her cupped hand.

"Can you make this? It's obsidian, volcanic glass, apparently an amulet of protection -- worn by the man who tried to murder me and his challenger last night after I finished calling his challenge. I can't be sure, but I think it was forged by the Keeper of Earth. I want to make an exact duplicate... with a few changes."

"There's actual action going on now? I miss everything..." Andrea didn't seem particularly phased that the woman in front of her had suffered from this attempted murder, but there was the fact that Mallory was indeed standing and front of her and was not, in fact, dead. "Can I make it? Yeah, I could..." There was a moment where it sounded like she might add But, will I make it? — yet it did not come. Andrea most likely thought it over and decided it might be interesting to do it. "So whose cornflakes did you piss in to get mixed up in this mess? And does it involve your challenge to said Keeper of Earth? I know about that much."

"His, apparently. He showed up on my doorstep a little while ago with an axe in his hand, asking his friend if they should kill everyone inside." Mallory drew even closer, now that it seemed Andrea would consider it. "And... yeah. The Keeper's been helping him, standing up for him. She says that's not the way it is now, but..." Her shoulders fell. "I'd love the Tower of Earth for its own sake. Facing its Keeper is extra incentive."

The horned witch dug out a vial from a strange hide pouch, meant to withstand heat, and held it up. It contained blood. Jonn's blood, half of what she'd collected after she'd attacked him in the Arena that very morning. "If you can make it for me, I'd want to add a few drops of this. And..." She blinked slowly, pausing before she continued. "...if the amulet were touched by the Void in some way... all the better." Her fingers tensed around the vial. "He insisted that I be the one to call, just so he could try to slit my throat. He deserves the nightmares."

"I should make it pretty clear that me making this doesn't put me on your side... I'm just doing it because it seems like something fun to make," Andrea nodded while saying this, though unblinking eyes were on Mallory to make her point. She then laughed. "Some fuck-wit will assume it anyway, so whatever. As long as you don't go around buddy-buddying with a person like, I don't know, Anubis, then whatever." She stepped closer to take a better look at the illusion, squinting to gauge its various facets. She swiped her hand over it, then turned her hand palm-up. With a burst of flame, a copy of the illusion appeared..

Andrea turned. "Set the blood there." She gestured to the work station she had off to the side. It was a stone table of sorts with papers and other such things atop it: a weapon or two, etched with the same seals of fire that the anvil had shown when struck with the hammer, a gauntlet of sorts, and also a few empty bottles of booze. "So, how fast do you want this..." she asked, stepping past Mallory as the witch deposited the blood vial. "...Obsidian... volcanic glass.." the Keeper muttered to herself, and a piece of rock broke to the right of the island, on the high wall of the cavern. It fell, dropped into the lava, and slowly began to sink; all while pieces from the area of the wall it parted from began to float toward Andrea while she focused on the flickering image of the fire-made amulet that glowed in her palm. "...I can have it done in a few minutes, the weapons take longer because I'm working on ways to forge them when I'm no longer the Keeper."

"The sooner, the better," Mallory said, though her gaze had moved away from Andrea, regarding her surroundings and the process of the forge with undisguised wonder. She set the vial down at her work station and shifted to watch. After a few moments, she added, belatedly, "I get it, yeah. About sides, and looking like you're taking sides... Regardless, I owe you one. If you need something that can be made in my shop, the Lyceum... or if I'm lucky, and there's a Tower in my future... I'll help you make it."

"Are you sure you want this Void-touched?" Andrea seemed to be passing on the idea of being owed, or at least if she wanted something from the Lyceum -- focused on her task instead.

"Positive," Mallory replied, her gaze moving to Andrea's face.

"Alright..." The Keeper's words trailed off. The pieces which she had gathered from the Tower and the fires below it had been enough to take the shape of the pendant, even though it looked terrible. Cracks here and there, parts misshapen, but that was the process; and this process was shown as she brought her other hand to hover over the worked object. Bare arms tensed, biceps flexed, and fingers gripped at something that wasn't there. The pendant began to take better shape. The cracks melding, the surface smoothing, and the misshapen pieces flattening from the pressure being applied. All the while Andrea's eyes stared deep at what she held.

Then there was darkness. As if a switch was switched from on to off. There was nothing. No island, no lava, no heat, just emptiness... yet, within that emptiness had been a single glimmer of light. A light, red in color which dimly danced in the horizon, as if calling for someone to just come closer. Then, there was light. The rush of heat that must have never left, the bubbling of the lava and the haze of smoke which flowed up from it to create a cloud which obscured sight every now and then. The pendant which had been floating between Andrea's hands simply fell into Mallory's waiting palm.

Mallory shuddered when the pendant made contact, taking an instinctive step back. She wetted her dry lips and stared at the object... sensing that there was something different about it, something she could not see, but something that imbued the object with a wrongness. There was an urge to hurl it into the lava, to see it unmade, a knowledge that it should be unmade.

Instead, she looked up from it and smiled softly at Andrea. "It's perfect."

"It can be a double-edged sword," Andrea's words paused as she picked up the vial of blood. She popped it open while ducking down to drag something from a leather sack out from under a table. She brought up a stone bowl and carelessly dropped it onto the table before she poured the blood into it. "The Void... but I'm sure you know that." She offered a false smile toward Mallory before looking back to her work. She slid one of the books on the table closer and popped it open, flipping through the pages... Then she flipped it shut and stared off into the distance, focusing for a moment. Fire erupted on the table, and from it another book was formed. She flipped that one open and found what she wanted.

Andrea tilted her hand to allow the obsidian shards left over from the crafting process to fall into the bowl, which she promptly covered as she looked to Mallory. "Good idea to keep it in a box or something. Long-term exposure to it might invite unwanted guests."

Mallory pulled a small case from her pocket, just large enough for the amulet, seemingly lined with lead, ready to contain the amulet when needed. "A double-edged sword... Hmm," she nodded slightly, and added, "All magic has its price..." She stood by the stone bowl, watching her mix the blood with the smaller obsidian shards. And as soon as the Keeper indicated? She lowered in the amulet to bond with Jonn's blood.

"The Void hungers, so... with a taste of the target's blood... Well, you can get the hint." Andrea's words left her lips as she watched the amulet begin do what she had just hinted at. It devoured the blood, drawing the crimson liquid within until nothing had been visibly left.

This, this was the part the witch had been waiting for. Once the amulet had finished its meal, she regarded it with solid red eyes, dragging her fingers across the blood that lingered in her palm, forming a twisted sigil. "For every lie that has passed his lips, you shall repay him in kind. The creatures of the Void shall appear all around him -- show him their presence even where they are absent, and reveal their maddening shape to his mortal eyes. Let them bleed into his dreams. Whisper of the Old Ones... tell him their agents are everywhere, and more corrupted every day... spies that will try to take his precious amulet away, for they do not wish him to See what he Sees! Return to him all of his dishonesty, until every sense he possesses tells him nothing but LIES!"

The blood-sigil burst into red mist, twisting into a spectral shape that hissed strange, echoing words to the amulet... then disappeared. The witch blinked slowly, her eyes returning to normal.

"The Void hungers... so I'll feed it. I'll let it feast on his mind."

The Keeper of Fire's eyes were looking off into the distance, though in a way she might as well be looking past it. For a moment her brows furrowed and her head gave a soft cant to the side, as if there was a whisper she could just barely hear... and then, she blinked and looked as if nothing had been an issue. Green eyes settled on the amulet, then back to Mallory. "All done?" Seeming as if she hadn't been truly there for the past minute or so. "I really need a cigarette and a shower..." Hinting that it might be time for Mallory to go, but without explicitly saying it.

Mallory could take a hint. She replaced her glove, carefully touching the amulet and placing it in the lead-lined box and snapping it shut. Then she looked around at the volcano's vast interior, recalling the elevator, the stairs, and the bridge across the lake of fire. She hummed for a moment, then asked:

"Is there a quicker way out of here?"

((Adapted from play with Andrea, with thanks!))

[Mallory]

April 21st, 2019.

It was not long after dusk in RhyDin that Mallory passed through the portal to the Twilight Isle, her left hand curled around an obsidian key set with an emerald. She turned the stone relic of Klytus over in her hands, as her gaze swept over the bar and the rings. There were goblins present, but no others, and the only attention they paid the one who shrieks was to confirm that she was not headed for the ground beneath Bailey’s domain to start screaming at him again.

She was certain that she would make it to the Tower of Earth without interruption, when someone tugging at the hem of her shirt caught her attention, and a warning look. Unwanted contact was a good way to get the witch’s hackles up.

“Greetings, new Keeper of Earth!” the goblin piped in a very formal sort of way. She was rather formal for a goblin of the isle, dressed in a fine (though mended) vest and frilly shirt and breeches, though her feet were bare like most of her companions. She blinked up at Mallory through large blue spectacles with faceted, crystalline lenses.

“Um... hi.” Mallory offered her gloved right hand down for a shake, and thought to add, “You can call me Mallory. It’s fine.”

“Keeper Mallory of the Fine Earth!” the goblin trilled as she more pinched than shook her hand with small but slender, pointy fingers, and the witch winced at both the sensation and the title. “I am Teresa Tricklock. My colleages and I have compiled a list of questions for you, if you have a minute!”

“Uhh--” Mallory darted a wary glance at the treeline, off in the direction of the Tower.

“Glorious!” Teresa Tricklock exclaimed, and produced a quill and notepad from thin air with a flash of violet sparks. One of the edges caught fire, but she quickly blew it out and flipped to the first question. “Ah-heh-heh-hem. Do you, Keeper Mallory of the Fine Earth, currently lead or represent or have any desire to establish a mining conglomerate?”

“No...?” The witch sounded uncertain, looking over her shoulder at the forest again as she answered, but Teresa didn’t seem bothered by her distraction. In fact, she looked relieved.

“Good! Good to hear! Of course, the Keeper of the Fine Earth may conduct her affairs as she pleases, but as an interested and quite possibly affected denizen of the Isle, that is good to hear!” The witch opened her mouth and raised a finger, but Teresa simply patted her on the finger and kept going. “Would you consider yourself someone who favors the necromantic arts?”

“No, I only learned rudimentary--”

“Mhm, yes, I see!” Teresa cut her off, drawing a big thumbs up over that question.

“Wait, does that mean you think I do or don’t--?”

“On a scale of one to eleven, how would you rank your feelings about steamed dumplings?”

Mallory squinted at Teresa, who blinked benignly back at her. After determining that somehow this was actually an earnest question, the witch asked, “Why’s it go to eleven? Why not one to ten?”

That seemed to satisfy Teresa, who drew a few stars in her notes and flipped to the next question. “Keeper Mallory of the Fine Earth, have you ever knowingly recorded or conspired to record a rap album?”

The witch’s eyebrows climbed and her mouth hung open, completely nonplussed.

“Well said, Keeper Mallory, well said!” Teresa tittered, and drew a few hearts beneath this question. She beamed up at her and added, with a little flourish of a bow: “May your reign be fruitful, uneventful, and absent any mile-high faces to shout across the Isle!”

“What...?” But Teresa was already off like a bolt, scurrying back to her companions to show them all the valuable intelligence she had gathered. The witch blinked after them, then at the crystalline spires protruding from the water northwest of the Isle, as if their emergence was responsible for this seemingly mad behavior. She heaved a sigh, then trudged off towards the forest, muttering to herself in Koine...

((Credit to Bob’s player for this thread detailing the additions and (mis)adventures of previous Keepers!))

[Mallory]

A mercifully uneventful hike through the forest took Mallory to the southern bank of a stream at the base of the western mountains, where she was told the Tower was located. The trip likely would have been faster had she called upon her newly granted power as the Keeper, but it gave her time to clear her head, meditate on the elemental magic emanating from the Key that dangled from her necklace...

...and keep an eye out for attackers. She thought this was an opportune time for an ambush, killing her before she could unlock the Tower and discover its potential, but no attack ever came.

All the better.

She shifted her backpack straps and stepped up to the water’s edge, eyeing a series of stepping stones scattered all the way across. She stretched her legs to reach the nearest, then hopped onto the next, a broad gray rock with two sharp little ridges on one side. She was still steadying herself and considering her next step when the stone lurched abruptly, throwing her onto her butt. She held onto the ridges with both hands as her perch rose out of the stream...

Except they weren’t just rocky ridges. They were eyebrows. She leaned forward and looked down at a stone-shaped face and a body of heaped boulders clacking and grinding together, bound by nothing but elemental force.

“Um... hi! Sorry!” Mallory said, both surprised and pleased that the being hadn’t tried to hurl her from his head or smash her with his heavy fists.

“NEXT TIME KEEPER WANT RIDE, WAKE DROXX UP FIRST.”

“Sorry!” Mallory repeated, legs scrambling and hands tensing as the massive elemental began to lumber out of the stream. “I know they call them stream beds,” she muttered, “but I didn’t know they could be so literal...”

“HA,” Droxx rumbled. “THAT JOKE AWFUL. DROXX LIKE KEEPER. DROXX GIVE RIDE UP STAIRS.”

“Stairs?” Mallory asked as they came up to a sheer cliff rising more than a hundred feet above them, the stunted flank of the Isle’s westernmost mountain. The elemental slapped one broad hand against his chest. “Oh,” she said, and touched the Key on her necklace.

Immediately, dozens of stone pillars steps grew out of the ground (starting only a short distance ahead of them) and the cliff face itself, locking together with heavy thuds until they formed a broad staircase. It seemed to be three pillars abroad, sunken in the middle with the sides serving almost like railings, which made Mallory feel a lot better about their impending trip up to the top...

...where she could now make out an obsidian barrier, its surface gleaming in the strange light of the Twilight Isle’s sky except for a dark keyhole in the center. “This place is beautiful, Droxx.”

“DROXX,” the elemental responded, drawing out the syllable to better enunciate.

“DROXX?” the witch nearly shouted.

The elemental rumbled with laughter as he began the ascent with long, steady strides. “KEEPER GET BETTER AT TERRAN. LANGUAGE TAKE TIME.”

“You like languages?” The witch tipped her horned head forward to look at his stony face, though Droxx (DROXX?) was staring straight ahead, minding his balance on the stairs.

“DROXX KNOW COMMON, TERRAN, AQUAN, LATIN... DABBLE IN SYLVAN...”

“You know Latin?” That made Mallory look down again.

“DROXX HAVE HIDDEN DEPTHS.” The elemental’s eyes — two smooth, ruddy pieces of jasper — tumbled partway out of their sockets and swiveled down to consider his own torso. “MOSTLY FILLED WITH MOSS AND TADPOLES.”

He boomed with laughter, forcing the Keeper to hold on with both hands as he plodded up towards the Key-locked door...

[Mallory]

The Tower was vast and labyrinthine, or at least seemed to the Keeper to promise as much, as a bulky elemental of gray basalt led her past countless tunnels, pits, stone doors and pocket stairwells. The being showed her the library, the private study, the terrace garden, and the Keeper’s bedroom.

The elemental also proudly showed the Keeper one of the areas where the Tower’s guardians were hard at work maintaining it, clearing debris and strange surprises from chambers that had rearranged or reopened themselves upon the transfer of custodianship to the witch.

She had heard that the Towers sometimes changed with the arrival of a new Keeper, so some change was to be expected; but she hadn't been expecting this.

"Tachya... can you tell me what we're looking at?"

The large elemental turned her glassy, olive-colored eyes to Mallory, then opened an angular hand to what had once been a smithy, now overwhelmed by a white mass with red and pink striations that had ruptured through the wall. "We believe that shifts in the Tower have forced this fossilized peppermint lode into the chamber."

"Fossilized..." Mallory frowned. There were several smaller elementals attempting to claw at the hard candy lode with their rocky hands, but they often stuck to it on impact, and what few pieces they pulled away mashed itself into the gaps in the stones that comprised them. At least as much work was being dedicated to pulling the peppermint out of themselves as breaking apart the lode.

The witch opened her mouth, shut it, then tried again. "Don't we have any picks? mining equipment?" She'd heard about a massive mining operation in the past...

"Yes, Keeper. But it has become stuck in webbing, and the mephits tasked with untangling them are afraid of becoming stuck themselves."

"Webbing? Spiders from the Underdark?" Mallory backed into the chamber, looking at the crystal-lit hallway outside with fresh apprehension.

"Worse," Tachya said, letting out a low, grinding sigh as she turned her head to follow the witch's gaze. "Bubblegum."

[Mallory]

April 23rd, 2019.

Mallory heaved a sigh as she sat at the obsidian desk in the private study Tachya had shown her Sunday night; the elemental herself was only a few paces behind, pausing in the doorway that she scraped with her bulky frame. There was a large stack of books and scrolls that had been brought up from the library, as well as wine in an unmarked green glass bottle, a soapstone goblet, and a shimmering green vine that blossomed into amethyst at the end. She tested the vine's surprising toughness in her fingers, something to occupy them as her eyes ticked restlessly over the desk.

It had been a long, exhausting day, and it wasn't over yet. She'd have to be back in RhyDin by seven to help decorate at the Golden Perch.

"Keeper. Is there anything else you require?"

It took a few moments for the witch to look up, distracted by her own thoughts and unused to the title. She smiled apologetically and set the strange little flower down on the desk, clearing space for a crumbling old tome on Rasayana that had been translated to Arabic. "A pound of silver, or copper," she said, and tapped her finger carefully against an alchemical formula that occupied two pages. "I need to settle Phil's debts."

Tachya bowed her basalt head and exited, leaving Mallory alone. Asking for stone in the Tower was easy, but specific minerals always took time to procure. She listened to the thudding footfalls descending the stairs, then pushed away from the desk and knelt by her backpack, tugging the zipper open.

Inside was a small metallic case, currently shut.

She took it carefully with her gloved right hand and took three steps away from the desk, bringing her to the right wall. She walked to the back corner, then paced her way to the front, heel-to-toe, counting out the number of steps. Then she came back three paces, took the emerald-marked Key from her necklace and into her left hand, and pressed it to the wall.

When she shut her eyes, she could feel the mountain beneath her fingers, its monumental weight and the countless passages it breathed through, the grinding and churning of its deep roots and the distant echoes of the Underdark... the immensity of the mountain's existence, at her fingertips to sense but not to control, not all at once.

Not yet, at least.

"I only need a little," she murmured, eyelids fluttering as a thorny vine curled around her left forearm, wincing when it bit into her palm. The blood flowed over the Key and out instead of down, forming a slowly circling ring that awaited her next word.

"δῶρον," she whispered, and the circle formed into the letters and vanished into the rock wall. In its absence, a seam formed, then three more, creating a narrow door before her. She kept her head bowed and her eyes clenched shut for a few moments longer, listening, sensing as rock shifted, broke and reformed. Once she was satisfied that this small piece of the mountain had finished backing away from her hand, she pushed on the door, revealing a chamber shaped into an eight-foot hemisphere -- ideally sized for her ritual circles.

She stepped into the darkness, the chamber lit only by the glow of the luminous crystals in the study behind her, and knelt in the center. She placed the metallic case just between her knees, holding her breath as she slowly pulled it open.

Andrea's amulet waited within, unchanged since she had seen it last. The air in the tiny chamber gave a strange sense of vastness instead, the icy breath of deep primordial caverns washing over her as goosebumps rose on her arms. The Void.

Mallory stared at the amulet as she rubbed her fingers over the cut in her palm, smearing the blood on her skin. Enough to begin a ritual, one she could be done with in minutes -- it was doubtful that Tachya would even be on her way back by the time she was finished. Her gaze ticked side to side in the darkness, weighing every variable in her mind...

Runt's anger and confusion, and Jonn's cold contemplation of murder at the manor, and the failure of her curse; Michelle's challenge, and the way the baker crumpled, and the feeling of the knife in her neck; the aching fear of being parted from Eri forever; the primal sound of Jonn’s furious howl after she’d shot him in the back; Runt's vulnerability, and Michelle's caution, and Nat's irritation over the mess; and, underlying it all, her own impending immortality...

She flipped the lid shut and backed out of the chamber, one step at a time. The case was sealed, lined with lead to mute the Void's effects, but its uneasy chill lingered in the air. She could not see it in the darkness, but could feel it staring back at her like a patient predator, hungry for prey yet self-assured that it would have its meal soon enough.

"δῶρον," she said a second time, and the door swung shut and melted back into the wall.

[Mallory]

April 24th, 2019 - Twilight Isle.

It was not hard to guess that today, even before the challenge, Mallory would be on the Isle, exploring the Tower and learning its secrets for as long as she could. Fifteen minutes until the hour, and the new Keeper of Earth was jogging out of the tree line into the open area before the portal to the Red Dragon Inn. She was dressed for a sword fight, in practical clothes that she didn't mind staining or tearing, and the flaming silver sword Drachenbane was strapped to her back.

There was a figure sitting at the bar, a surprising sight on a night like tonight. The witch turned to look at her as she angled towards the portal, not fifty feet away, and was surprised to see Jewell's face looking right back at her and calling,

"Witchy witch face, let's grab a drink!"

Mallory fished her flip phone out of her back pocket, clicking the button on the side to show the time. 9:49. "A water, to go. I'll drink with you in the Arena after I'm done kicking Jonn's ass," she said as she turned towards the bar, flagging down the bartender for a water bottle. "Or you can help stitch me up if the stupid fucker gets one over on me."

A rich, delighted laugh followed that. "What makes you think you're going anywhere?"

Mallory looked up at Jewell's face as she reached for her water bottle, and missed the long silver knife swinging down for her hand. It landed dead center, right between her metacarpals, pinning her to the bar. The illusion broken, the ashen face of a unseelie rogue sneered at Mallory as she screamed in anguish.

"Vindicta!" she managed to choke out the syllables, but before the retaliatory magic could take hold, the fae assassin had his other arm up, arcing a wand of humanoid bone at her as he hissed a sharp breath. In a burst of violet sparks the threads of Mallory's nascent spell snapped. He twisted the knife in her hand and jabbed the wand into her back, laughing as a shadow of raw, nerve-burning pain burst over her flesh.

With another cry, Mallory pulled her hand loose, ducking down as she stumbled back, a quick swipe of the assassin's knife whistling inches over her head. Shakily she stretched out her torn hand towards the portal, invoking the wind under her breath, willing herself to cross the Veil to the portal's edge and escape, but another flash of violet sparks canceled the spell.

She turned to stare at the assassin, eyes widening as a much larger spell burst out of the tip of the wand. A wave of crackling shadows rushed into Mallory, launching her off of her feet and through the air. She landed on her back, cushioned by the mix of sand and volcanic soil that filled the ring he'd knocked her into but still hard enough to knock the wind out of her and make her ears ring.

He doesn't want me to escape. And that wand can only do so much. She forced her bleary eyes open, watching as a trio of crimson moths floated from her bleeding hand, fluttering away to deliver their messages... I just have to outlast him.

He was already waiting for her when she scrambled over the lip of the crater-like ring. His long silver knife whistled through the air and scored a gash across her side, but she didn’t cry out this time. She raised her left hand again, and he bared his teeth over barely suppressed laughter as his wand severed another attempt to Veilstride to the portal.

Then she turned and ran, tumbling away from the ring, dodging past goblins shouting at them and running for cover, and sprinting for the tree line. He was fast, flinging a silver dart wildly after her at the same time he called the knife back to his outstretched hand, and she chose that moment to invoke another spell.

He barely had time to get his wand up, evaporating the icy crystals forming in the air as soon as they passed her lips, and she used his caution to gain distance on him. He snapped out a swear in Sylvan as she disappeared into the trees and went bounding after her.

[Mallory]

It was hard to keep sight of each other in the dense, wild forest, but the unseelie assassin could undoubtedly hear Mallory plowing through the brush and breaking branches, and she could hear him taunting her as he kept pace. “I smell your blood, you pretty little bitch! There’s no running from me!”

They had run halfway to the mountains already when he found her blood smeared around a tree. Most quarry would have slowed down or passed out by now. He dipped his head to sniff... and with wide eyes, pointed his wand at it again, crying out in Sylvan and letting out another flash of violet sparks as the blood began to blacken and burn.

The tree creaked ominously and he leapt back, peering up at it warily as it held. But the sound of a body crashing through the forest ahead of him turned his gaze, and with a snarl he went sprinting after her again.

By the time he reached the edge of the forest, he couldn't find any of her blood among the unsettled brush and broken branches she'd plowed through, though her panicked sprint left him enough of a trail to follow. He narrowed his eyes, spotting three shadowy hounds among the boulder-strewn field before the cliff face that held her Tower. There was no sign of her stairs, either, and they would have made a terrible noise when they arrived.

One of the hounds began to sniff the air, eyes moving towards the assassin's position in the tree line, and he didn't wait any longer. He loosed a pair of silver darts, whistling through the air and embedding into its neck with a sharp yelp.

There were two left, one on either side of a rocky stream that separated him from the cliff face that could provide Mallory with sanctuary. He made an irritated noise, quickly scanning the vicinity for any sign of the witch coming out to conjure her stairs and flee to safety, but spotted no one by the time he reached her remaining summons. "Hide if you wish, it makes no difference to me," he hissed through his teeth, ducking snapping jaws and raking claws as he whirled into battle.

The hounds were slain within moments, the assassin no worse for wear besides a shallow scratch that had sunk through his finely woven armor. He examined it, made a disgusted sound, and whipped out his wand again, twirling it in the air. "No matter how you've shrouded yourself from my eyes, I'll find you! Magic can't save you from me! Why not come out and die with honor?!"

He let his words hang in the air for a moment, then slashed with his hand, and a ring of emerald stars shot out from him in every direction, spiraling wild paths through the air like speeding fireflies, seeking out invisible things hidden in the field. Two of the stars caught on something, and he smiled as he stashed his spent wand and made his way over -- and stopped in his tracks when it revealed nothing more than a large boulder, marked with a bloody handprint. Boulders tumbled away nearby, and he raised his dagger to the witch emerging from the pile --

She held up the Tower's obsidian key and said, "Γοργώ."

Immediately his legs and arms began to seize in place, flesh and cloth alike transformed into solid stone. He twisted his head, darting a furious look between the spell climbing slowly up his legs, the pile of boulders now rolling and reforming into an earth golem, and the witch who watched him suffer. Her left hand seemed completely intact, covered in blood but showing no other sign of her wound. He narrowed his eyes at her as he felt the coldness reach his shoulders and rise up to his chest. "Enjoy it while you can, witch -- "

"I will," she said coolly, and walked right past him to the dutifully waiting golem. "Be a dear and get me a hammer and chisel?" His eyes widened at the threat, and grew wider when she simply raised a hand and stopped the petrification in place. The golem pulled itself into a ball and rolled away from her, sinking into the earth a few feet before the cliff face.

"...You can't scare me, witch. I come from Faerie. We've all seen worse," he hissed, finding the bravado to spit the words at her in the face of his impending doom.

"You're going to tell me who you are and who you work for, or I'm going to start chipping off pieces."

"Faugh! You'll kill me anyway! Look at you, disgusting monster -- "

"Monster?!" Mallory boomed. She pressed her bloody hand to his brow, and he let out a panicked yelp as she transformed before his eyes. Poisonous vipers writhed on her head, and searing green flame rose from her eyes. Her fangs were long and pearly like a snake, dripping with the bright blood of unseelie prey, as the image of her fed on his primal fears. "I have the gall to defy death, and you call me monster?! A monster would eat your flesh while you yet live! A monster would cut open your belly and fill it with vipers! A monster would trap your soul in glass and let it shatter!"

"Please!" he screamed. Her words stopped, though the gruesome image did not fade, and as she leaned closer, he could feel the snakes writhing away from her head to brush against his face. "Please... It was Jonn! The Baron of New Haven, h-h-he has money now! Ten thousand nobles if I bring him your head! It's a secret bounty -- not public -- back channels, meant for assassins like me!"

"And what kind of assassin are you?! Give me your name! SPEAK!" she bellowed.

"R-R-Ruithen! Ruithen Fangborn!"

He tried to lean his face as far away from the hissing vipers as he could -- and then they stopped. There was no gorgon before him, only the witch herself, rolling the obsidian Key in her palm as she stared at him... and smiled. "Thank you for being honest with me, Ruithen Fangborn. I'll leave you intact... as a warning to the others."

"N-no, please...!" was all he managed to say before the wave of petrification crawled over his head, turning the last of his flesh to stone.

Mallory let out a relieved sigh as soon as it was done, the Key hanging loosely from her grasp as she rested her hands on her knees. She was breathless from sprinting at least a mile, and pale in spite of the exertion; her hand was healed, but blood still trickled from the cut on her left side. She slowly raised her head to look as the golem who'd hidden her earlier burst out of the ground, a hammer and chisel held level on a broad stone appendage in front of her.

"Thank you," she managed a smile at the creature, and tucked both items into her belt. "Can you bring me a mending draught from the cellar? I'll be in my study." She watched as the elemental gave an affirmative rumble and rolled away again...

...then turned and stepped towards the Tower, letting the rising stairs carry her up to the heavy obsidian doors.

[Mallory]

Mallory drew five overlapping circles of blood on the floor of the chamber, each nearly touching the black amulet laid in the center. The Void could smell it, she was sure, and felt the faint rumble of an unearthly growl as something cold and strange moved in the air around her. "You hunger," she muttered as she drew long, straight lines across the circles, a series of triangles to contain the amulet. "That's fine... you'll get your meal soon enough..."

She reached out towards the center, stretching and curling her left hand, and invoked the spell: "ίσοδώρο."

Without any flashes of light or stretching shadows, without any fanfare at all, the amulet in the center simply fell through the floor, and its twin appeared in the air and dropped into her waiting hand. She curled a smile as she drew it in closer, feeling the traces of her own blood on its surface -- the stains she'd left on it the knight Jonn had put a knife in her neck.

"Break," she told it, and it crumbled into fine black dust in the palm of her hand.