---

That was bothersome. The grouped looked so close to actually bringing Asevor down, but was able to cripple Cedar, dispel Solomon’s hold, and turn completely invisible within moments of each other. To make matters worse, without Violet here to supplement his eyes, Solomon no longer could keep track of the mad wizard as soon as his form vanished. Solomon clicked his tongue. Since the storm was clouding the incineration spell, Solomon didn’t feel much threat from it any more. And given the size of the hail, it would be too dangerous to fly for a prolonged period of time, even if he was invisible, even through his rings or protection. He was probably seeking shelter. That would be the keep. Solomon turned back inside, still being soaked with rain as the wind carried the falling water inside through the open window.

Solomon doubted Asevor would enter from any floor except the first. That was where the closest and mostly unobstructed entrance was. Many of the others along that wall were covered in vines courtesy of Cedar’s massive plant stalk. He lack much of any more power to call upon another exceptional ally, Solomon regretted, but perhaps he might have enough for something else. He remembered he still had a couple shadows still within the keep, though they couldn’t be of much tangible aid. Perhaps as a distraction, but without knowing exactly where Asevor was, that could be ineffective.

“Shadows. Peak corners along the first and second floor. Speak to me if anything shifts to the presence of another.” said Solomon softly, his mind focused on something else. The shadows were like sentries now. One moved to the first floor, and the other stayed on the second. The idea was twofold, if Asevor spotted one of them, the shadows would initially appear to be another entity on the floor with him. Of course, he could confirm they were simply undead shadows through his magical tool. But that moment of pause, no matter how short might make a difference. It wasn’t a perfect sentry as long as he remained invisible, it was entirely possible to move about to any part of the keep without disturbance.

Solomon’s peripheral vision caught a glimpse of the box resting slightly askew from perfectly level upon rambling vines. Despite the damage caused by both sides during the conflict, Asevor was still very protective of the box. Solomon didn’t suspect much else reason he and August were targeted they way they were. Something looked off about it, though. Solomon climbed over a particularly thick vine to look at it from another angle. The large box initially looked undamaged from the pressure, but now he could see that part of the corner had popped open. Solomon got as close as he could, resting his eye just before the opening. His eye darted around its sunken socket trying to peek inside, perhaps hoping it was enough to see completely inside.

[GM Post]

Asevor was close, oh so close to safety. His enchanted necklace was plan overwhelmed by the sheer amount of hailstone coming, and that proven to be his undoing as the artifact failed to properly redirect the arrow mixed amidst the projectile.

It barely strayed from the initial trajectory, practically exploding right next to the invisible old man and showering him in shrapnel. A pained gasp escaped his lips as he tumbled, crashing into an undignified heap in the first floor while leaving splatter of blood on the way. With a shaky hand Asevor tapped into another ring, hairline crack spreading through the inset opal as a wave of rejuvenation coursed through his body. With a pained cry the burns were replaced by new skin while the shrapnels were pushed out, though the lingering sense of pain still shook him oh so terribly.

Still cloaked in invisibility, the archmage started tracing another tesseract. Yet if anyone could see him, it was plain that his hand were shaking and the progress were much slower than before. The crystalline barrier that previously took mere seconds to form may now take so much longer, perhaps enough for someone to take advantage of it?

Above, the inner working of the metal box was revealed. It was a mess of toppled furnitures and a slightly bruised young man that nervously stared at the crack, barricaded on the far corner behind a toppled table and what must've been one of its wooden leg brandished as weapon. The box, from within, looked like just any other room but every time a drop of rainwater seeped in the whole edifice flickered off to reveal the cold metal laden with enough glowing runes to make one dizzy just by perceiving the entire thing. Part of the runes were glowing angry-red, centered on the popped corner and snaking just a fraction of an inch further every second. To the uninitiated, it was a concerning sight. To those skilled in runeworks, they'd probably figure out that it's a trigger for some sort of dead-man switch inbuilt somewhere into the workings.

As for the direction of the switch? Well, the bottom looked suspicious. The flooring was slightly taller than it should. Whatever's powering the construct, it's almost certainly buried down there.

Outside, the hailstorm intensified. Even the wooden stable started to buckle from the constant drop, not to mention Cedar and Jazdia who still remained without any roof over the head. Seeking shelter immediately seemed to be a wise course of actions.

Jazdia was ready to shoot another arrow when wounded Asevor managed to make a sudden turn toward the same building he was escaping from and took shelter there.

Undrawing her bow in sheer displeasure, Jazdia darted for the door leading to the floor below, almost like skidding down the stairs. Once she get in there, the elf glanced at Solomon who seemed to be busying himself with perusing the box containing the prince.

"I will not try to poke that thing if I were you, especially not when that wizard is still around."

Standing in the doorway leading to the second floor, Jazdia's eyes flickered for a brief while before giving another assessment.

"So that's why he is still here," she muttered. "It is very likely the runes that regulate the enchantment was programmed with a safety measure. If you see that green-colored rune surrounded by yellow or blue it means the trigger was designed to pick up the wizard's final energy before triggering itself to live. Or simply trigger itself when it can no longer detect Asevor's energy." the elf shook her head. "No, that would require a constant effort to emit your own mana into the air, it was never a practical method. A tether? I don't see the lines. Must be my first guess, but I don't have time to nerd it out."


"Let's leave the Prince for now. Asevor is right under our feet. On the first floor of this building. If we want to subdue him alive, I would need your restraining spell."

---

Solomon moved back from the box when he was addressed. Jazdia had come down from the roof. Solomon initially thought to avoid the weather. Though, the current floor provided cover, the remains of the garret above wasn’t doing much to keep out the rain. Jazdia then mentioned Asevor being on the first floor of the keep, just twenty or so feet below them. So, that is where the wizard retreated to, much to what Solomon predicted. The explosion that took place just moments before must have been Jazdia taking aim against the wizard.

“I agree in part, but the damage the box has already sustained seems to have triggered some kind of timer. Though my rune lore isn’t extensive, I do not imagine the pace of the red line to be anything benign.” said Solomon as he maneuvered down the vines to more stable ground. “Asevor possesses numerous jewels for breaking from my hold, and he is currently invisible. Until both of those change, I’m afraid I won’t be able to grasp him again.”

“Petra should be at the first floor now, as are my shadows. They can attempt to subdue him rather than kill him outright if you wish. I will be within earshot of them, so if you can relinquish Asevor of his anti-magic accessories, I can quickly come down and finally bind him with my hold. In the mean time, I will decipher the runes to find a means of opening the box safely. I want to avoid any other dead man triggers. Perhaps I can open the intended doorway.”

Down on the first floor Petra flew near ground level following the blasted entrance from Jazdia’s earlier arrow. At the same time, the shadow that was lingering there noticed the blackened vines and scattered tableware collapse and crackle as nothing tumbled over the remains. It started to fly away when the other joined it from the second floor. While none of the three could see Asevor, they were to somehow restrain him. Petra was annoyed, her spectral face scowling as she looked into the dark and otherwise empty dining hall. There were also the shadows who physically could not do anything. The question of how they were to accomplish the change in instruction was quickly raised.

Petra rested her hand on her spell book, cold mist consolidating around the pages as she charged her spell. She slid her hand off the book, spreading her fingers as several cold rays of magical ice scattered about the room. Where ever they landed frost spread out several feet covering anything in contact near the center in ice. The spell centered mainly around the obvious crash site in the middle of the room. By shotgunning her spell, she attempted to locate Asevor, either by disturbing the frost with heat or friction, or by being hit directly. Hopefully with the latter, the ice could slow his movements as it could attempt to expand over his form.

Ah, of course, that possibility again. Jazdia was so tired of this entire charade she did not look at the box again. What else could she do? Defusing a magic construct would require a specialized operator with specialized equipment, which she was not, nor equipped with.

...I will decipher the runes to find a means of opening the box safely. I want to avoid any other dead man triggers. Perhaps I can open the intended doorway.”

Added Solomon after his solemn refusal.

It was not good enough. Working with the undead was often as useful as working with crude automatons, or natural occurrences, and it was not counting her personal distaste towards those nature defiers. Her complaints were numerous, yet Jazdia chose to swallow it all and

"You don't have to to follow my command," she said firmly. "But I tell you this, I can see through his invisibility, and I saw that his defense is fading. What would happen if all goes according to the plan is Asevor will be forced to use up his shield to block my arrow, and should he really has nothing to defend himself, he will be down with one leg shattered to bits, but pretty much alive.

For half part of her speech, Jazdia maintained her usual deadpan expression, before gradually developing into a fit of anger and frustration. "Or if he died... I don't care! This situation has spiraled out of control and surgical action is no longer feasible. Asevor has to be stopped now, by any means necessary, why else do you think he chooses to stay? " After gripping her bow, and feeling the searing pain from her scalded skin in utter hatred, Jazdia hissed. "I value my life even more than any Princeling. I am done, really, it's just the two of us now, and I cannot let us dance to his tune any longer."

After what could be perceived as an act of lashing out, Jazdia left Solomon to do his thing and walked down to the next floor, enchanting several of her arrows along the way. By the fourth arrow, she glanced at one of the dilapidated windows and wished the sun would come out anytime now.

Carefully and quietly jumping down the ruined staircase, Jazdia's enchanted eyes scoured the entire room and immediately picked Asevor's silhouette. Exhausted and battered, silvery patches started to appear at the edge of her hair, and one of her eyes flickered with infernal color. Deciding to stay in that antechamber, she readied her bow and aimed, letting the arrowhead glow a bit more as Solomon's spectral summon entered her line of sight, flanking her target from the main door.

Taking a form of a well-dressed lady, she looked unnaturally fair for an undead, yet her outward beauty was rather balanced out by the sinister link that made her general appearance similar to a human with another human as a branch. Fortunately, Jazdia would soon realize that her neat appearance was not her only distinguishing feature. The conjoined undead would prove herself to be a quite formidable caster with her frost magic. Still, she could use a bit more guidance.

Shifting her aim left and right, Jazdia made eye contact with the undead woman while making a move to give the impression that she could not see Asevor. And that, before suddenly waved her aim toward the wizard himself and fired her arrow.

[GM Post]

"Hello? Is anyone out there?"

The conversation must've been at least audible to the inside of the box, for the prince had noticed the change in the status quo. In some places he would've still be considered a boy, but it seemed that the little prince was more mature than he looked - whether by default, or changed by the kidnapping. "Get me out of here already! This place's flooding!" Not to mention the slowly spreading red lines that flashed ominously with every drop of water. "Or cover that hole, at least!"

Asevor had noticed Jazdia's descent, even before she showed up in the chamber. With the vines dead, the magic-detector once again could pick up various signatures... such as multiple arrowheads primed to explode or worse. Then the elf arrived, aged eyes widening at the sight of the bow. Someone had shot him earlier, through his invisibility and an ongoing hailstorm. He wasn't certain who, but he's not about to risk it. Cradling a ring as if it's a lifeline, sure enough that the elf snapped her aim to try surprise him with a two-pronged attack.

He cried in pain from frost-burn stabbing on his back, but only for a split second. A neutralizing pulse emitted from the ring, the artifact crumbling upon its last use. The arrows whizzed, dangerously close, the redirection amulet damaged from earlier overuse. Asevor traced and shifted, breathing in relief as the last addition made the tesseract complete.

It melted onto his finger, spreading quickly across his body in the form of a translucent crystalline growth that covered him head to toe. Without any other deadweight to cover, it'll last quite some time even against concentrated barrage. It's just... his mana pool was emptying. If he were to leave through the hail, he could not afford any other spell. So...

"Okay, you've got me. Parley." Stated the archmage, standing as straight as he could as he leaned on his cane.

The magical barrier reacted, causing her arrow to veer to the side and hit the wall next to the old wizard. It, however, failed to anticipate the frost attack from Solomon's summon and hit Asevor square on his back.

The old mage arched, while Jazdia deftly reloaded her arrow, ready to shoot a follow-up.

"Okay, you've got me. Parley."

The bow steadied, and behind it, a pair of hellish, heterochromatic eyes watched with an unwavering focus how Asevor's spells waned instantly. Yet, the man stood, leaning on his cane, his figures unshrouded, fragile, and proud.

The elven ranger was still holding the string, though she herself was arguably the most potent menace in this room, her arm was shaking slightly.

"You have three seconds to convince me why shouldn't I destroy you right here, right now," she said.

"One!"

The bear's jaw set, and his eyes narrowed to tiny glittering slits in a very wizened, bestial face, the instant he heard the old wizard croon the word "Parley", as he made an orbit, near the east windows of the ruined dining hall, whirling away as he crossed the courtyard, on his way past the ruined front door.

"I say put 'im in a damn hole! I caint keep dancin' like 'is all damn day ya hear!? Ya let at sumbitch....."

he crooned hoarsely as he whirled past the door, then past the west side of the dining hall, and out of ear shot, whatever foul epithets he had for the old wizard cut off by several feet of stone masonry occluding the hoarse bear's enfeelbled voice.

[GM Post]

Well, at least this one's receptive. Unlike a certain man-bear that's now taking the brunt of his foolish ritual, as if trying to wrestle a force of nature ever ends up well.

"You seek the young man upstairs, are you not?" Said Asevor plainly, not even trying to conceal the fact. "Only I have key enchantment to unlock his cage without triggering the dead man's switch."

That was one thing. The other, well. Asevor raised his cane, tapping to direct attention at the bulbous head. With a twist an outer shell was removed, breaking the concealment ward to reveal a red gemstone the size of an egg. Miniature runic carvings dotted every surface, coiling enchantments that fuels a feedback loop back into itself in a currently still stable cycle of energy... a massive amount of energy. Enough to be brightly visible even to the uninitiated. The entire construct was a desperate, demented creation designed to collapse inward and release all the stored energy in an apocalyptic blast should it be triggered. An insurance only the most paranoid master enchanter can come up with.

"And if you kill me I'll make sure no one wins. So why dont we both take a step back? I'll collect my things and leave. You can finish your mission without further casualties."

The elven woman listened, yet the level of threat she displayed remained unwavering.

"Bold of you to assume we are standing on an equal footing. Disarm yourself and your magical enchantment at once, then I will let you live."

"Two!"

In that brief moment Jazdia looked at the magical construct, then at the wizard again. The potential was still unmeasured, yet its danger was apparent. Regardless the elf kept her composure, as if not giving it a proper damn Asevor wished she would. The luster in her eyes shows not only sheer determination but also restrained rage and madness.

"Look at me in the eyes. Do you think I care?"

---

“You are just going to let him live? You’re just as spineless as that damn doctor up stairs” scorned Petra. Her hand was resting upon the book, ready to fire another series of frost rays. One of her earlier rays struck the paranoid wizard, so her next attack was almost guaranteed to land true. That was until Asevor’s barrier surrounded his being. Despite Petra’s hand resting upon the book being spectral, and considering the material the book was made out of, both were becoming increasingly encased in condensation and frost. Still hovering above the ground, Petra moved further into the room to avoid the rain still billowing in through the entrance. Finally, her hand slipped off of the page, brittle ice shattering as seven different rays of ice began to orbit her person ready to launch at a moments notice.

“If it wasn’t for him, our trapped rosette here would be frozen solid as soon as that barrier comes down. But here we are. You’re in control it seems.” Petra scowled at the current situation. First it was kill him, then it was contain him, and now the elf she was to listen to was negotiating. Besides, Asevor’s little last resort didn’t seem to sway the elf, so why drag it out?

“You might as well detonate.” said Petra, “I don’t care about the lives they’re trying to save, nor yours. You would be doing me a favor, actually. Otherwise…” The various magical rays of cold energy quickened their orbit almost resembling several rings before slowing down. Cold mist enveloped Petra, surrounding her in a thin fog. “I might not kill you, but nothing it preventing me from putting you as close to the brink as possible.”

Upstairs, Solomon turned his attention back to the box. Jazdia had departed to the lower levels. As obvious as it was, Solomon felt some guilt about Jazdia’s resolve and the strain his comments put on it. Though Petra would be there to lend her aid, Solomon felt that would not quell her discontent. The conflict Asevor thrust upon them was reaching a breaking point if it hasn’t already. If only Cedar wasn’t enthralled in his spell, then perhaps he could not only support the elven archer, but perhaps heal some of her injury. As it stood, many of Solomon’s medicines were mixed, several vials broken from the screech of the banshee.

He heard a voice. It was male, young, and partially muffled. Solomon peeked into the box again. He completely neglected the rain and the possibility that the box was water tight. He looked around for something he could use, opting to grab a small hand shield. By affixing it over the crack and the available vines, he was able to keep any further rain from seeping into the prince’s prison. He made sure that the shield was fastened down.

“Okay, stay where you are. I am not sure how cramped it will be getting.” said Solomon. His body became like smoke, black, barely humanoid in shape. Then it condensing into a snake like shape, slithering up and into the box through the crack. He didn’t want to force himself through the magical runes that encased the box. Once inside, he could get a better view of the runes, and perhaps decipher their inner workings.

“Keep where you are, the situation is still ongoing.” said Solomon, facing the prince. Though his rain soaked hood and mask made it hard to get any sort of view of his uncovered eyes, Solomon presented himself as calmly as possible. “Let me see if I can decipher a means of getting you out.” Solomon turned to face the flickering walls. He felt like time was against him more than it was already. One of his undead shadows informed him of Asevor’s last resort. He had some worry for how the negotiations would proceed.

[GM Post]

"No, I dont think I will. I'm not that much of a fool." Asevor replied flatly to the elf. He was under no illusion that these people will not tear him limb from limb the very moment they got the chance to. To think that he, a mighty archmage, was reduced to the pathetic state of negotiating with imbeciles and halfwits... "As for you, rotten thrall, bring your master here or pipe down. I've no time to spare for foul abomination such as you."

Above, Solomon managed to slither into the prison box without much interference, though it seemed that his passing had progressed the red lines by a bit. There he could see more clearly the enchantment woven throughout in the rarer moment when the rainwater managed to slip past the block and trickle in, a veritable tapestry of runes skillfully woven into one another that it's difficult to tell where one began and where another end. Illusion and concealment intertwined with the spreading red lines of the last resort, with only the supposed door having different pattern to it. For one, the kill switch was strongly concentrated there. Additionally, a section was notably missing. If the missing part could be completed, there should be some change to it. Likely disabling the kill switch and opening the door, for surely the occupant still have daily needs that must be met?

Now the big question was, what would the pattern look like? Did Asevor store it specifically by memorization, or did he had it written down somewhere?

"...whoa. You're not with the kidnappers, are you? Did my father sent you? I've never seen you before." Somehow the prince seemed more excited than distressed at the moment. Perhaps he believed that rescue was imminent? "Is lady Antigone here? Is she dealing with the enemy wizard?"

There was no expression coming from the elf, only tilting her head slightly to acknowledge the choice Asevor had chosen. The deflected arrow on the wall pulsed once before its explosive charge detonated. Although there was a substantial distance between Asevor and the epicenter, splinters and crystalized fragments scattered about at lethal velocity.

Blasting him off guard, the wizard was still communicating with Solomon's undead when the explosion triggered, but the strike was deemed fair; As far as honor was concerned, the parley was between Asevor and her.

There was no sentimental reason, only a desire to eliminate the threat and ensure the chance of survival, first for her own, and the other comes second. Lurea sings in joyful whistles as the arrow launched toward the old man's center mass. Installed with a delayed fuse, it cared not about its target's switches, insurance, or whatever tricks he had in hand.

---

Petra was amused, though the sour expression on her face might have told differently. She pointed at the base of Asevor’s person, one of the rays of frost quickly separating from the rest that was orbiting her body. The beam hit the bottom of Asevor’s annoying and seemingly impenetrable barrier. Frost began to spread from where the ice spike landed covering the various debris on the floor in solid water. Similarly, the ice grew up over the barrier until it reached a height equal to Asevor’s waist. The affected area was surrounded in a thin layer of mist as the temperature suddenly dropped around the layer of frost. Petra had released the ray partially in response to Asevor’s comment, and partially on reflex from the wayward arrow exploding. As a result, her ray launched shortly after Jazdia fired her readied arrow.

Solomon took note of the arrangement of runes, committing as much as he could to memory. While some did line up with what he studied several decades ago, the structure was very complex. It would take him longer still to figure out a means of bypassing the mechanism. The door was especially guarded, but it did have a keyhole of sorts.

“Yes, we are here for your rescue.” said Solomon without turning. “Antigone is not among us. We have only learned of Asevor’s involvement recently. He is still a part of the ongoing situation, I’m afraid.” Solomon was bothered by the flickering of the illusion, perhaps letting a steady stream of water would better illuminate what he was working with. As it were, there was less than an inch of water in the room, so the threat of drowning was less of a concern than the fail safes Asevor had enchanted. However, his arrival had rushed the red timer, and he wanted to minimize how often he would have to penetrate borders of the box.

“I imagine you’ve attempted escape, yes? Or at least tried to learn as much of your captors as possible? Is there anything you can tell me of the wizard you mentioned? Such as how you’ve been fed, clothed, or cleansed. Perhaps a word or a spell you’ve caught glimpse of, be it sight or sound. It could narrow down my efforts if so.” Solomon turned his head sideways to get a side glance at the prince’s expression, though the hood made it hard for either of them to get a full view.

[GM Post]

Asevor's countenance soured, twisting into a facade of rage. These vermins dare refuse his goodwill? Truly, violence was the only language they understood. If so, then he'll show them. Drained as he were, he still could had several tricks up his sleeve.

Explosion rocked him, the aftershock of the shockwave painfully rattling the old man's bones. Hairline cracks dotted the surface of the barrier, but otherwise it remained sturdy. Then there's the frost that latched on his lower half. That needed to go. Directing his ring downward, a blast of pure force shattered the ice layer - more shockwave to his legs, but he's now free. Floating straight up, he directed his fist as yet another ring activated at the impertinent little elf.

A healthy dose of mind-fray should keep her off his back for a moment.

He could stay, yes, but Asevor's still a coward at the core. Without another look he shot straight to the door, fully intending to abandon the scene to whatever fate it's doomed to. If nothing else, the detonation of the iron prison should be cathartic to watch from afar.

*****

"Asevor? Is that the wizard in purple?" Questioned the prince, a bit deflated that the Duchess wasn't present. But still, since they're unbothered so far the rescuers should be having it well in control. They only need to figure out how to finagle open the door. No pressure there...

"He's a nasty one, pardon my choice of words. I did tried escaping once, took hostage of the maid that came to clean. He sound bored when he said that I'm welcome to kill her, but then I'll need to survive on her flesh because they'll stop sending anyone with food or to clean. Can you believe that?" The prince shuddered at the memory, and how the maid in question had tearfully begged for her life. He had to let her go and behave from then on. What else could he do? "Ahem, anyway. There's no visual change to the door, but it does make some kind of low humming noise when it's opening. Took about... three seconds, I think? And the same noise but in backward when it's closed and locking. The runes wasn't visible at all though."

Coming around again from the East once more, mad as ever and eager to let that twisted bastard have his comeuppance, Cedar spied the old bastard trying to make a break for it, foolishly flying once again.

"THERE YOU IS,YA FILTHY COCK SUCKIN' SON OF A WHORE! LIKES TA BREAK PEOPLE'S BONES, DOES YA? FUCK EM AN DUMP EM IN A DITCH, LIKE YA DID 'AT BIG BASTARD O'ER YONDER?! WELL GUESS WHAT FUCKER, YA *MY* BITCH NAOW, AN IZ *YOUR* TURN TA *GIT FUCKED!*"

He bellowed, rounding sharply and levelling the ball-tipped end of the standard bearer pole directly at Asevor, as he felt the magic animating his movements, and his own will to move, finally come together in blissful, delicious harmony.

The wind he was dancing with literally picked him up, and spun him like a top suspended in the air, and moved him like he was nothing along a chaotic path just a few feet off the ground, while simultaneously coalescing around asevor like the fist of an angry giant, ripping the flying man off course, then slamming him repeatedly and violently against the sides of the keep.

The angry verbal spew continued uninterrupted as the wind raged, drawing the wizard further up the wall and higher into the sky the more he continued to struggle and be thrown back against the keep, and continually aimed away from the enraged bear-- the full force of the storm's magic completely bent on destroying him, as lightning and thunder intensified high overhead, giving foreshadow to what awaited him up there in the angry black wall of clouds...

"So, that was all he had to say?"

Silas Delving sighed. "Correct."

His Father leaned on his chair. Though wrinkled by age, his lips sported victorious mirth. "As expected."

That word did not put the admiral at ease, not one bit, but he tried to erase all trace of uneasiness and straighten up his seating. None one minute Silas forgot that he was sitting in front of Jonas Delving, an absolutely austere man he was, with a rigidly ambitious outlook.

"The raid on the Black Serpent Headquarters has been a considerable setback, but we still have another card to play." Jonas Delving arose from his chair and lighted up a cigar. Though there was a hint of resignation in this tone, he was speaking with pride. "We almost had everything ruined due to your brother's incompetency. But with you here, Fredricus would not dare to push his luck."

Paused, the head of the Delving clan inhaled a puff, savoring it before exhaling expertly as if age did not deter him. A haze of burned tobacco curled above his desk before wafting toward the window. Jonas Delving might not be living in his prime anymore, but his bearing gives off an aura of a grizzled man that would not turn down a challenge.

"You know, had everything gone smoothly, I wouldn't have involved you to begin with." he continued, pointing to his eldest son with his lighted cigar. For the first time since he entered this room, Silas looked up. He knew where this was going.

"You don't have to repeat it."

"And you are supposed to be leading our fleet. Watching over our maritime border, to be ready to follow the order from the next new crown. Meche is weak, how many days do you think it would take to take over their coastal bases? A week? Two? There should be a war declared today if only that pathetic Fredricus did not hire those pesky investigators, and your brother's failure to contain their movement."

Silas did not say anything, although his expression clearly said he did not want to hear that. It was bad enough that his brother was dragged into this treachery. Now being put under the cart, he was stripped of all credibility and was now serving as nothing more than a designated punchbag for the aristocracy to blame. True his hubristic nature contributes to his failure, and in Delving Household you have to pay for your mistake with your head held high or be exiled. He simply wished that his father would acknowledge that Aaron's downfall was in his quest as a dutiful son and give the credit where it was due.

Silence again. At that time the door suddenly opened, and a woman nonchalantly sauntered in, bringing a cup of coffee and refreshment in a silver tray. Like both men in that room, her hair was golden, but slightly pale compared to the rest of the Delvings. She wore a black dress, with white trim and a frilly white apron donned in a way that highlights her curvaceous figure while still maintaining acceptable propriety. A black-rimmed glasses and a white ruffled headpiece complemented her appearance with elaborate yet humble elegance.

The woman let off a youthful smile as she placed the tray on the table in front of Silas. "Good to see you, big brother!"

"It's Admiral. Know your place and read the situation." the old man scoffed and looked at both the servant and the servings she brought in restrained disdain. "Also, I don't remember summoning any servant."

"Apologies, Master." she bowed deeply "I was thinking it is customary in our household to serve refreshments to our guests, especially to the esteemed Admiral Delving."

"The duty of a servant is to serve, not think."

The woman smiled earnestly, but the scorning continues.

"And next time, let the head maid handle it. I see that you are bringing that... A man like him has a class. Take that back with you, out of my sight!"

"Father, it's all right." Silas intervened. After sipping on the steaming coffee, he looked at the woman and returned the smile "Good to see you again. Kirsten."

The woman looked ecstatic she almost bend the tray she was holding, however, before they could continue their reunion, Jonas Delving stared at his son disapprovingly, then at that servant he barked. "What are you waiting for? You are doing me a disservice, Leave now!"

The woman bowed and left quickly. Whether she was smiling or sobbing when walking toward the door, nobody could have ever guessed. Silas shook his head and looked at his father in the eye "She was just trying to be nice. You don't have to do that."

"Doing what?"

"Father, all I ask is for you to look at my siblings the way you looked at me. Aaron did his best, you don't have to exile him, and Kirsten--"

"She is even a bigger failure." Jonas Delving blew the smoke out of his nostril and glanced at his son as if he had forgotten his origin. "What do want me to do? That half-sister of yours failed in her study, she lied to me, kicked out of the academy dishonorably. I have been so awfully generous to not let her rot in an orphan, and this is how she repays me? By canceling off a marriage and fooling around wasting my time and money? Insolent child! If she wants to spend the rest of her days here, she must pull her own weight."

"I was honestly glad the engagement was canceled. Nobody wants to be sold off to a new family like a prized pet."

When Jonas looked at him sternly, Silas realized that he had crossed the line.

"I didn't mean--"

"Careful. We all have our own duties. Our worth as human beings is measured by how well we perform our duties, that is the Delving's way. And I raised you and your siblings including that blasted wench with the same ideals. Enough about this trivial matter, I have something more important for you to take care of."

Jonas gestured for his son to be at ease, before continuing. "Yesterday Fredricus announced in front of the aristocracy that his son will be returned to the palace in three days. I know our current king is not a man who would give a promise, down to the exact date and place, if he doesn't have the confidence to fulfill it. Considering the circumstances we created, this is an alarming move."

"So you are suspecting the freelancers Fredricus hired got a wind on the location?"

"This will be easier to dismiss if it was based on suspicion alone. I tasked my regulars to check out the premises but they reported to me that the south bridge has been destroyed. There was no update from Pesti either."

"Did Von Kruber do that?"

Delving patriarch dipped the rest of the cigar into porcelain astray and turned to the window. "Could be, fearing the King's agents would come knocking on his newly renovated keep. If it wasn't him, except for Antigone, and a squad with hundred pounds of black powder, I don't think there was someone we know capable of dealing out this reckless amount of destruction."

Apparently, there was, but it turned out Aaron decided to be conservative in his report. And his father, despite being a shrewd man he was, had no inkling about the capabilities of the agent Fredricus hired. Or underestimating them. Quickly the admiral could point out another flaw in this entire plan, and it made his stomach churn. His father gambled big but did not play his card right, When would this madness ever end?

But to voice out his contention was another story. In this very chamber, the eldest son of the Delving brothers had always been his father's yes-man.

"Then we need to secure the keep." he baited. Part of it was merely to entertain his father's dangerous endeavor, and nothing more.

"The usual? I don't think we should do that." Said Jonas, attempting to pick up a new cigar but then putting it back again. "The keep is well protected by anti-scrying devices, we had decoys. Fredricus' hands are tied by his own anti-war policy, so why should we do anything bold by sending off our armed men?"

"What if the site has really been compromised? As we feared?"

Jonas snorted as if the very question annoyed him. "Asevor the Wizard is protecting the fort. Also, we have dozens of mercenaries standing by at Pesti. If someone attempted to scratch its wall I would have heard about it. All Fredricus had left is his freelancers, and the last time I heard they were still stuck in Hdur because they don't have any leads."

It took him a bit of a will to have his chiseled chin nodding to that explanation.

"So what is your order?"

"I need you to be my liaison. Remind Von Kruber that I expected the money we donated to be spent on something more useful for the cause, and I will be honored if he would attend the meeting on the 18th. Also, tell him to not do anything idiotic like destroying bridges. Our associates did a decent job framing this issue as an act of sabotage by foreign actors, but we all knew Fredricus isn't easy to fool. It's best to not attract unnecessary attention. That would be all."

"What about Fredricus' agents?"

"What would you do about them?"

_

_______________

A bolt of psionic lightning cracked, and Jazdia blocked it with her hand. In her better days, the pain would be intense and flinching and even stifling, but now she could only feel a chilling tremor from her damaged arm, and utter wrath.

The spell, though dampened by her unusually complex arcane wiring, managed to reach her head and messed up her perception. Trying to minimize the confusion, she deactivated her ultravision and aborted the ongoing enchantment. Another hand gripped the handle of her blade in anticipation, but nothing came within her range.

She could feel the wind picking up. Right here, in this very building, along with a series of foul language that would make even the toughest front liners blush. It took her several minutes to activate her eyes and figure out what was happening. Asevor was hovering away... which was not very surprising, and Cedar created a hurricane to intercept him right after he escaped the tower.

Thinking that she too was far from done with that old wizard, Jazdia walked toward the door and prepared her arrow.

---

Petra launched a ray of ice towards Asevor as he attempted to leave the keep. Though the force broke the last one, Asevor all but ignored Petra in his escape. Unfortunately, the ray remained true despite the wind. Asevor, on the other hand, was ripped into the hurricane, though his protective shield probably saved him from the violent winds. At least from the winds directly, it would be hard to fly against such powerful gale. Her ray of ice struck the frame of the entrance, encasing it and parts of the wall in ice

Like Jazdia, Petra approached the entrance of the keep, landing to better brace herself against the wind’s vacuuming effect. She had five rays remaining and one by one she released them, flying true to Asevor’s general position. The wind was working to slam Asevor into the wall, and that was fine by Petra. At least he would be contained to a small area. As each ray flew through the storm, the wind seemed to have no effect, but the rain froze as it passed, leading to small bits of ice to crackle on the ground, melting quickly in the pooled waters.

Back inside the keep among the higher floors, Solomon frowned as he listened to the prince. He knew is part that the key would be a rune, but had some hope that it could be something else. While Solomon learned to read some runes, or even interact with a few, he knew nothing about crafting them.

“I trust that is everything, then? Is there anything else you might be neglecting to mention?” asked Solomon. He wanted to be sure he got all the information he could get. As it were, Solomon was ill equipped to open the box outside of widening the forced opening. Ideally, Solomon would rescue the prince of his prison without outright bowing it up or otherwise accelerating the timer. The situation was tricky. Asevor seemed too arrogant to always be on constant watch over the box, yet he with how paranoid the stories portrayed him, it was unlikely he would let anyone else besides himself have access to a key.

“When the maid had come, had she come alone or had wizard in purple opened it? Are there any instances where said wizard was not present? Even to just use this slot on the door? From the time before you were first placed within the box until now. Please do not leave out any details.” The slot was an idea. It was too narrow for a normal person to pass through, but Solomon got to thinking. Incorporeal form only affected him and his belongings. Normally this spell wouldn’t work with another. It was risky, but if the prince were among his possessions, perhaps he could stretch the magic a little beyond its function. Perhaps that would be best used as a last chance attempt, an idea that Solomon was not in favor of. Another would be to try and peak at what the failsafe below the floor would be. But that would certainly increase the timer again. And severing the connection would probably trigger a fail safe to the fail safe to prevent tampering. It was starting to feel impossible without Asevor to open the container.

When the door closed behind him, Admiral Silas Delving felt as if a weight heavier than this entire estate had fallen off his shoulder.

It was something he needed, a moment of calm, free from his father's incessant demand, so he could think better; examining this already rotten venture. Obviously, his father had a lot of trust in the defense system installed and he was right to do so. His decision to stay put was also sensible enough, all things considered.

All in all, the plan would have a very good chance of success.

If only they didn't have to deal with that one last piece.

Silas could see that the plan was starting to fall apart when Fredricus' hirelings dismantled Black Serpent. Forced his brother to retreat in the most shameful way imaginable, and then discovered his father's hidden armory. If a Delving family was personified, it would be in the form of a half-naked man presenting lies and deceit in front of the king to save his skin. With a small bit of reputation left to preserve his dignity and distant merit kept being echoed by an unseen supporter so the king would not behead this pathetic usurper.

Walking down the stairs, Silas was expecting to meet with his father's trusted aide, but he found one of Aaaron's informants instead, one unassuming sailor with a scrawny build. And he was bearing ill news.

"Some of Sir Jonas' 'Usuals' stationed at Hdur were found dead this morning, the rest went missing. Killed in a similar fashion; gunshot wound. Pinpointly aimed at the head or heart."

Admiral Delving, The Gold Saber listened with an uncannily calm expression. "Go on."

"A new team has been dispatched to look for the missing men, should we send a dozen more of our men to storm the bakery?"

The bakery was the suspected place where the freelancers had taken the refugee. Since this morning His father had instructed his men to create a ruckus in that place to lure them out. Not only did the team remain undisturbed, but those thugs were also beaten handily by the owner himself. And now the death of the Usuals standing by in that area further exacerbated the situation.

"Give up the pursuit." as he said that, his resolve was shaken. He did not look at the informant anymore, but rather a distant somewhere beyond the ornated wall of this manor, the place where the Achilles heels of this entire operation were being held hostage. "Tell everyone in your division to stay away from Hdur until further instruction."
"What about Master Jonas? Should I report this to him?"

"No. From now on you will only report to me, unless my father specifically asked for it. You are dismissed."
As the informant saluted him and went about his business, another person stepped up. "I have something to report too... master." She cooed, blocking Delving's way. "The house is squeaky clean and I would be more than happy if you could put in a good word for me next time you speak to our esteemed Father."

The admiral forced a bitter smile before giving his little sister a headpat. "Don't take Father's word to heart. He meant well."

The slight change in Kirsten's expression made him feel like an idiot. He lifted his hand, realizing he shouldn't have brought that up, but he himself didn't know what to say, and thus, that not-so-comforting word was left hanging between the two for a few awkward moments later.

"I... need to go." he said, even so, the eldest of the Delving Brothers was still trying to be lighthearted. "I would love to stay for a while, but you know nobody gets to relax after coming out of that chamber."
As he walked, Kirsten followed him by his side.

"Don't you hate it having to keep up the mask of admiralty? Shouldn't home be the place where you can let your guard down?" She said, tilting her body toward him before swirling to get his brother's attention by holding his hand. "This is your first visit after six month worth of expedition. Come on, at least have lunch with me!"

Kirsten would always be like that, a ray of sunshine in this gloomy place. He could imagine those hurtful words their father barked at her when he was not around, and it was equally hard to imagine that girl could still remain upbeat despite all things.

"Kirsten! Kirsten, listen to me," he called after realizing that the maid in front of him had towed him several steps already.

"I can't." He looked at her and smiled bitterly. And it was answered with two big amber eyes staring through her trendy black-rimmed glasses, right into his soul. That kind of stare that would make you feel bad to the core.

"Orders from Father, I know," she shrugged and walked away. For one moment Silas thought his sister was sulking until the young woman reached for one of the twin two-handed swords displayed above the fireplace and test-swing it with one hand.

"Well then, if a lunch can't sway you... I can go with you instead." Approaching Silas again, Kirsten leaned forward and gave him one of her most radiant smiles. "And this time I'll take no for an answer!"