A Scrying

[Mayhem]

The three figures walked quietly through the temple. The first was an elf, and a fair one. She walked with grace, but also with confidence. She was clearly at home here, respectful and respected.

The second was a hin woman. If a single word could have described her, perhaps it would have been "irreverent" - not disrespectful of the god whose temple this was, but quiet amusement at the efforts humans go to to demonstrate their faith in stone and mortar.

The third, trailing behind, was a human, of barbaric northern stock. Tall, solidly built yet light on his feet, physically the most imposing of the three but here, in this place, at this time, the least confident, the least at home. He looked around, eyes wide in wonder, but there was a sharpness to them - and also, a sadness. He was the first to speak, although he did so in hushed tones that belied his barbaric appearance.

"A little bigger than Father Quanor's temple..." he said, with a faint smile, as he dropped 5 coins into the collection plate.

The diminutive hin looked up at him, a smile of her own broad across her face. "Just a bit..."

Aszûne, the elven lady, chuckled softly in response, and led the unlikely pair to a small antechamber. She coughed politely, to attract the attention of the man within.

"Your grace Tumakan... this is are Wolfril, and this Mother Soppi Widenbottle... of the earthmother?"

"Of Yondalla." corrected Soppi, still smiling. Wolfril said nothing, but bowed his head respectfully.

The man thus addressed looked up from his desk, and raised a hand in greeting. He was dressed in robes befitting a high-ranking member of the church of Lathandar.

"Hello again" said the smiling hin.

"Ah." continued Aszûne "I think you probably saw them here already, it's not the first time they visit."

"Actually, it is mine." said Wolfril, quietly.

Aszûne nodded to the tall barbarian, and turned back to High Father Tumakan. "They are currently in pursuit of a band of Banites that abducted a young woman."
"A girl. An eight year old girl." Interrupted Wolfril, a hint of impatience in his voice. But then his speech reverted to its respectful hushed tones, before trailing off. "Well... probably eight."

"Indeed? Hmmm," replied Tumakan, a frown creasing his brow. "The hand of Bane has not been active here of late... Most troubling."

"Aye..." The elf nodded. "Well, it appears those Banites fled to Daggerdale. By magical means. And since there currently seems to be no ritual in progress, I was wondering whether Mother Widenbottle could kindly use the divining pool...?"

Tumakan nodded gravely, looking at each of them in turn. Aszûne, a model of mutual respect, Mother Widenbottle, meeting his gaze as an equal even here in his own temple, and Wolfril, who's eyes were seeing something far away in mind and memory, and who's hand lay upon the handle of his battle axe.

"Well, as you observed, the divining pool is not currently in use," he said, after a moment’s thought. "I don't see any reason why you could not use it.

Aszûne nodded her thanks, and smiled. "Thank you your grace."
"Yes, thank you." repeated Soppi, with a smile of her own.
Wolfril did not immediately respond, still lost in thought, but as the others moved towards the door he dragged his mind back to the present. "Thank you, ah, your grace."

"The morning sun shine upon you." replied Tumakan, standing and giving a slight bow.

"And Yondalla watch over you." replied Soppi.

"I'll make sure to alert them to the donation box on the exit," grinned Aszûne. "When we leave, that is."

***

As they approached the divining pool, the large barbarian became agitated. It was clear to the few novices around the temple that he had something personal at stake in whatever ritual the strangers were about to perform.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked.

"I don't suppose you still have that hair and brush, Wolf?" replied Soppi, rolling up her sleeves in preparation for the ritual. Seeing him nod in reply, she added, "They'll help if you could pass them over." Even as Wolf grew more anxious, she was growing more business like, unconsciously adopting the authoritative stance and tone of a high-ranking priestess.

The tall warrior carefully unbuckled a belt pouch, the strong secure type that a man might keep his most precious treasures in. He took out a small, cloth-wrapped bundle, and unwrapped it carefully. His gaze rested sadly upon the simple wooden comb with its wisps of pale blonde hair for a few moments, and then he handed it over to the waiting priestess.

"Here." he said.
"Thank you." she replied, and began preparing.

Aszûne watched carefully, her arms folded across her chest.
"You might want to cast protections onto yourself first, there are some mean ways to retaliate against a diviner...” seeing the priestess giving her an odd look, she quickly added "which you probably know better than me... "

"Oh... there was to be a message." said Wolfril, suddenly. "To let her know I am coming, that no matter what, I will reach her."

"Yes." replied Soppi, slightly impatiently. "That is another spell. Do you have a message? It cannot be many more than 20 words."

Mouthing words silently, the tall warrior began to carefully count on his fingers, then spoke uncertainly; "Ah... Tell Alice that Wolfril is coming, and will not be stopped. Be as brave as you can be - we are coming!" His voice cracked slightly, and he turned away hurriedly, raising his hand to his eyes but trying not to let the others see him do so.

Aszûne, missing nothing smiled faintly.

"She survived Pokk's orphanage..." growled Wolfril, his voice low, barely audible. "She survived the Ogres." He gripped his axe tight enough for his knuckles to whiten. "She will survive this."

"I'll cast a few protections now before proceeding." said Soppi, mostly to herself. Again, she smiled, and cast a number of intricate spells, each requesting that Yondolla protect her from a specific harm. Her preparations complete, she began the prayer that would reveal the fate of Wolfril's ward, the eight year old Alice, in the still water of the divining pool.

An image began to form in the pool. A vague picture of a girl, but still indistinct, uncertain. As the priestess of Yondolla concentrated on making the image clearer, Aszûne watched quietly, minding her distance to the pool. Beside her, Wolfril spoke in hushed tones, wanting somebody hear, in this temple to Lathandar, another part of the story that had brought him so much anger, and guilt.

"The assassin that took Alice murdered a young Lathandrite novice. She was looking after Alice whilst we were away..."

Aszûne turned towards him, and encouraged him to continue.

"They could have subdued her, with ease, but instead they killed her, and marked her forehead so that she could not be brought back... it was needless, hateful..." and it was my fault said the look upon his face, although his voice, by now had trailed off.

"They are Banites," replied the elf quietly. "I would not have expected reason or mercy from them."

Wolfril and Aszûne looked towards the pool. Soppi had stopped chanting, and was looking into the pool. A clear image of Alice was there, but her surroundings were indiscernible. Nothing but a blackness as dark as ink.

"Either she is shielded, or she is being kept in darkness," said the diminutive priestess, frowning. "We can only see what she is seeing, I'm afraid." Without waiting for a reply, she began a new spell, passed her hands over the water, and spoke aloud, addressing the far away girl.

"Wolfril is coming, and will not be stopped. Be brave, we are coming."

The image in the pool moved. A look of surprise appeared on the young child’s face and it was clear that she had heard the words spoken by Mother Widenbottle. She opened her mouth as if to reply, but as her lips began to move, the image in the pool became obscured, ripples running across the surface as a new image began to form.

"She is alive." said Wolfril. "As long as she lives, I can have hope. And as long as she knows we are coming, she can have hope as well."

Soppi nodded. "I am sure they will be taking good care of her. They would not go to so much trouble if..." but her voice trailed of as she looked into the pool again.

"Oh! A dragon?"

The pool had become still again, but now all that could be seen was the image of a black dragon flying in circles along the edge of the pool.

Aszûne and Wolfril both expressed their surprise, as the surface of the pool appeared to solidify into the image of a large golden disc, creating a barrier between the viewers and the dragon behind. Aszûne frowned and traced a circle and arc in front of her.

"Is this supposed to be happening?" asked Wolfril, concerned that something had gone wrong. Meanwhile, the claws of the dragon became visible at the edges of the disc, the talons of gripping firmly as if the beast were trying to wrest the golden barrier away and escape the pool.

Apparently speechless, Soppi stepped backwards uncertainly, as a black sceptre rose from the centre of the disc, and began to emit a sickly green light.

"Will you cancel the spell, or shall I?" said Aszûne urgently, and then it winked out as a cloud of pure darkness surrounded the pool and the three would-be diviners.

"Hells! Cried Wolfril, memories of bloody battles with the Duergar on the Stonetrail coming to the fore. "Are we attacked? Ma'am? Aszûne?" Without conscious thought, he found his axe in his hand, his senses sharpening as he prepared to fight whatever might attack under cover of the darkness.

Soppi, meanwhile concentrated on ending the scrying spell. As soon as she did so, the darkness vanished as quickly as it came, and the divining pool was nothing more than still water. "I think this is over." she said thoughtfully. "That is as good as we are going to get, I'm afraid."

Aszûne gazed thoughtfully at the pool, but Wolfril was still on edge, prepared for battle.

"What was that?" he snapped. "A warning? And if so, was it from an ally or an enemy?"

Soppi shook her head "We were discovered. The gold disc was Lathander's protection, the dark dragon was Bane's attack."

"Are we in danger, then?" asked the agitated warrior.

"Do not worry too much about it," said Aszûne, raising her hands in a calming gesture. "I'm sure we'll be fine here. However, my advise would be that you move on with all haste."

Soppi nodded in agreement. "I don't think it wise to try to scry again. At least Alice knows we are coming now."

"And so do they." added the elf, thoughtfully.

"Aye.” responded Wolfril. "But they knew that anyway. Anyone who had enough knowledge to steal Alice away would know I would not rest until I had found her."

"I am sure they would have expected it, yes." agreed Soppi, smiling again, her concerns about the scrying dismissed.

"Well, the clergy here will be informed and ready for any attempts of retaliation." stated Aszûne, pacing the floor. "However, you should make haste, as they now know how far you have come. They might hasten their own preparations or move her away again now."

"You are right..." said Wolfril, a look of concern crossing his face. "I am sorry... I did not think to place your temple or town in danger..."

Aszûne shrugged. "It's alright. Better here than a place that is not so well equipped to deal with that evil."

"Besides" said Soppi. "The link is broken now, I wouldn't worry too much about a retaliation."

And with those confident words, the three left the temple to make plans for the next stage of the journey, pausing only to add more coin to the collection plate.