B2 – Chapter 23: A location and a familiar face

Tristan ducked into an alleyway, spun his essence crucible, and used his family crest to cast Disguise Form, making himself appear in his Human from Bhant façade. Emerging back onto the street, he made his way to the docks and the Pathfinder Lodge. Entering the building, he was greeted by a clean, minty scent. The room was only occupied by two people – a barman and the Pigkin Phil.

Phil stood up from the chair he was seated in and pulled his dress robes into their proper position on his torso. “Ah, our guest. I have checked the ledgers and found some information. Please, let us go to a conference room.” Phil led Tristan back through the hallway leading past the bar and into the same conference room he had been in previously. “First, our Pathfinder apprentice, William, has left you a letter.” He produced a folded piece of parchment from his robe and slid it across the table to Tristan.

Unfolding it, Tristan quickly took in the contents:

To Lord Tristan,

Thank you for saving me and taking me into your care and protection. Without your intervention, I do not know if I would be alive. Please, thank that Archon Grimtome guy for me as well.

I hope that you find your half-brother. Maybe one day our paths will cross again.

William Ghavron

Tristan folded it up and put it into a pocket of the cloak, “Thoughtful.”

Phil drummed his fingers on the top of the table, and Felicity mimicked him by tapping her paw-claws on Tristan’s head – still invisible. “Bertram Anorox, and his partner Trixia Verdantia, visited this Lodge a few Seasons ago. They did not have the rank appropriate to use the intercontinental teleportation network, which is restricted to the highest echelons of Pathfinders.”

Tristan knew of the ITN; it was the envy of many a merchant and kingdoms across the world sought to take one of the sending or receiving arches that enabled cross-world, instant transportation. But only the Pathfinder Company had them, thanks to their founder who created the powerful items of artifice. They were heavily essence intensive, needing the essence capacity of an Eight Order capable crucible. Tristan had seen the one in Bhant’s Holdfast a single time, and had learned all of this from his grandfather, who once was a Pathfinder before settling down in the kingdom of Bhant on his laurels.

“Where did they go next?” Tristan asked.

“Well, records show that they were headed to the island continent of Yustat. The Citadel of Essence, apparently, has been having some issues with dragons. Bertram’s…unique capabilities were well suited to the task.” Phil eyed Tristan warily, “I did some digging on you, as well, and spoke with our Lodge up in Bhant’s Holdfast…Tristan Anorox slew his father and grandfather.”

Tristan slammed the table with his fists, feeling rage rise up in his gut, “Lies! My father incapacitated my grandfather, and I slew that bastard for him.”

Phil looked slightly on-guard, but still kept a professional demeanor. “Nonetheless, you had stated in our last meeting that you were Bertram’s half-brother. I assumed your mother was Elvish. You showed your family’s crest – confirmed by my compatriot up north who first signed Bertram with our Company to be the same design. I do not believe you have ill-intent towards Bertram, hence why I revealed his destination to you.”

Tristan pulled his fists back and pushed down the hatred at the accusation. “Thank you,” he said softly as he stood up. “I’ll be out of Jewel’s Point on the morrow with a crew and ship.”

“Before you go,” Phil stated as he stood up and produced a small, green version of the Pathfinder Company’s symbol. “This marks you as a friend of our organization. It will not afford you any privileges that a full member would be granted. But, you have shown your trustworthiness by rescuing William. His report was quite flattering, and regardless of what you may or may not have done in the past…you helped one of ours in a time of need.”

Tristan walked around the table and took the offered item. Holding it in his hand, he spun his essence crucible and attempted to push the power into the item – but nothing responded. Not an item of artifice to track me, he thought as he put it into the same cloak pocket as William’s letter. I doubt it is high enough quality to use in artifice. Still, this will give me options that I would otherwise have had to strive to obtain. Just show the symbol, and I can at least earn an audience with a Lodge.

“Thank you,” Tristan said once more. “I intend to sail for Yustat. I do not mind taking along Pathfinders who are heading that direction. I believe the western coasts of Schlarz and Maladonia, and the southern edge of Klaktol would be on the way.”

“That is thoughtful of you,” Phil said. “I will look at our logs and have them track you down. Where are you staying?”

“In my Fey Realm,” Tristan replied. “But my underlings have a cart for wares up near the Sapphire Citadel. They can report there tomorrow morning, and I will take them with me to these distant lands. My treat.”

Phil smiled softly, with understand, “I believe you, by the way. I doubt you killed your grandfather, given your response and your actions towards our Company members. I hope you find peace with killing your own flesh and blood, as by your own account your father was slain by your hand.”

Tristan turned and began to leave, glancing back over his shoulder as he said his parting words. “The man only fathered me. He did not raise me to who I am today.” Tristan left the Lodge and began walking back to the cart through the streets of the city.

Making it back, he saw that the cart was gone. Ducking into an alleyway, letting the Disguise Form drop, and then going back to the space, he asked a nearby guard about the cart’s location and that of his two companions.

“Oh, they went shopping with a small cohort of escorts. Your cart is back here. I can show you…” the guard led Tristan to a cordoned-off section of the market square – behind the fanciest and most luxurious inn. There were two guards stationed in front of the stalls, and both gave Tristan a nod as he walked to his cart and leaned against it.

Felicity flew down onto the cart and licked her paw, preening herself and fixing a few out-of-place feathers. “Mind keeping an eye open?” he asked.

Felicity nodded, “I don’t mind. Why?”

Tristan reached around to his gear and began stripping off his weapons – placing them gently on top of the cart. “I want to artifice my maul. I never put any spell into it – and I’ve got a lot of options now. Since I just have to touch it, and this thing is in the sling on the side of my pack, I could easily reach back, tap it, and use the spell.”

“Which one you thinking about?”

“Lucky Instinct,” Tristan replied as he set the maul on the top of the cart, cleared out a bit of space, and began preparing to cast Investiture of Artifice. He put his palms down on the top of the cart, index and middle fingers spread – tucking the rest into his palm – and both sets of fingers facing the maul. “Préparer le récipient pour l’infusion de mana. Un endroit où le sort peut s’installer.” (Prepare the vessel for the infusion of mana. A place where the spell can sit). He spun his essence crucible as he spoke, pouring the essence through his channels and into his fingertips. A small stream of silver poured out from his fingers and into the weapon, until the silver metal glowed with a brighter luster. Once it had fully saturated, he took his hands away.

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Taking his thumb and placing it in between the middle and ring fingers, folding those over the palm and pinning the thumb in place, and then stacking the index finger atop the middle, and pinky atop the ring finger, he incanted Lucky Instinct’s spell phrase. “Kunpa minulla olisi tästä huono tunne.” (I wish I had a bad feeling about this). Once more, his essence poured into his hand – but then it was siphoned into the prepared vessel which glowed a deep, calm, icy blue before fading to its dull silver color of the starmetal.

“And just like that, it’s done,” Tristan said with a smile.

Felicity nodded, “It’s a neat spell that actually works for you.”

There was motion outside of the cart’s stall, and Tristan poked his head out, spotting Meeshka and Beatrice, chatting cordially with each other as they walked over to him. “Oh, Lord Tristan,” Meeshka said with a small curtsy, looking far happier than she had been in the past day of her wallowing in the Fey Realm. “We bought a bunch of products. Got some great deals, too.”

Tristan nodded and waved them over, “Let’s see what you got.”

The two women put their spoils of shopping onto the top of the cart, and Tristan had Felicity sweep each item into the storage dimension as he took stock of them. Silks and other fine cloths, small samples of all manner of gemstones, prime cuts of meat, fresh fish, all manner of vegetables and other produce. Bread. Enough general products that they could outfit a general goods store.