The most useful kind of magic

Okay, diary, sunrise rolled in like a grumpy knight, and Hayley and I were already up and at 'em. Our pouches needed refilling with healing potions – gotta be prepared for anything after last night's bombshell, right?
 
Speaking of bombshells, the conversation over breakfast was basically a replay of yesterday's drama, except with the added bonus of Gael dropping some serious knowledge. He explained that powerful people are, like, the biggest scaredy-cats when it comes to losing their power – no surprise there. We all felt bad for Liliana, stuck in this situation and totally blind to how messed up it is, even though she's usually pretty strong-willed.
 
Gael, ever the optimist, offered a glimmer of hope. He said there might be ways to break the deal: beat down the hobgoblin king in a fight (talk about epic!), offer him something he wants even more than Liliana's service (like, a million cookies?), or find some loophole in the original agreement – like maybe it was written in invisible ink or something.
 
So, new mission: gather intel on this hobgoblin king in Keralon and rewrite Liliana's destiny! Sounds like a plan, right?
 
The morning was dedicated to shopping, and I splurged on a pearl worth a hundred gold pieces. Why? Because, my friend, with a pearl like this, I can finally cast the "identify" spell – perfect for uncovering any hidden secrets magical trinkets might hold. Alistan, on the other hand, went for a more artistic approach and snagged himself a violin. Sweet tunes, man!
 
Speaking of gifts, I wanted to get Elsa something, but guess what? My bank account is officially singing the lonely wallet blues. (Truth be told, I already had to borrow some gold from Liliana just to get that pearl.) Guess I need to find a quick side gig while we're still in Hillfield. Can't show up in Keralon with empty pockets, right?
 
At noon, the whole gang – yes, even Liliana, Alistan, and Ileas – reunited at our trusty inn, just in time for lunch. The usual shady character was still lurking in the corner, looking like he hadn't moved in days. Honestly, diary, this place is practically a walking stereotype of an adventurer's inn.
 
Speaking of stereotypes, the innkeeper, a half-orc named Mathilda with some pretty gnarly burn marks on her face, seemed to be in cahoots with Gael and Hayley. Maybe they were part of some secret "tough guy" club I wasn't cool enough to join yet.
 
Anyway, we all sat down for a group meeting, and let me tell you, things got heated fast. Alistan and Liliana, fueled by some kind of misplaced hero complex, wanted to jump right into the thick of the rebellion, single-handedly taking down the whole thing. We, the voices of reason (or at least, the least impulsive ones), had to talk them down from that ledge.
 
Liliana, especially, seemed super eager for adventure. Alistan, being the ever-so-helpful brother, offered to give her a rundown on how the city worked. Apparently, there's this council of nobles that his dad is part of, and then there's a mayor who handles the day-to-day stuff.
 
So we agreed that the first thing should be intel-gathering at the city guardhouse. We marched in, a ragtag group of teenagers and a satyr, and requested an audience with Sergeant Berris. After some navigating through the barracks, we found ourselves in his cramped office, the stern gaze of the sergeant upon us.
 
Alistan inquired about the city's policy on satyrs, as we were unsure what their current status was in the city. Turns out, there's a "blacklist" of banned satyrs, but most are allowed entry, albeit with a side of suspicious stares from the guards. Alistan, digging deeper, pressed for more information concerning the recent attacks.
 
Sergeant Berris, with a sigh, revealed that this wasn't a one-off incident, confirming what we had been told before. These attacks have been plaguing the city for weeks, happening every few days. He recounted the recent events, from the market vandalism to the deadly attack on the guardhouse. It was definitely grim listening.
 
Liliana, the eternal volunteer, chimed in, asking if there was anything we could do to help. The sergeant, a bit wary at first, hesitated. However, he eventually divulged a crucial piece of information: they believe the satyrs have a base within the city walls, which explained why the attacks originated inside rather than outside the heavily guarded perimeter.
 
Seeing an opportunity to contribute, we offered our assistance in finding this hidden base. Surprisingly, Sergeant Berris readily accepted our help, a hint of relief in his eyes. Alistan thanked him for his time, and Berris' response was...interesting. He mumbled something about not wanting any trouble with the De la Roosts, hinting that they have some kind of reputation in the city. After what we witnessed the day before with their worship of Ulther, I don’t blame him.
 
Leaving the guardhouse, the keen Gael hatched a plan to track the satyrs. His idea centered around Ileas, bless his naive heart, infiltrating the mercenary companies. Apparently, the plan involved freeing satyr prisoners, fabricating a sob story about rebelling against leadership, and then getting close enough to learn their base location. Let's just say, Ileas looked like a rabbit trapped in a dragon's lair at the mere suggestion. Thankfully, the rest of us, with a healthy dose of common sense, shot down that ridiculously dangerous and illegal plan faster than you can say "jail time."
 
Walking back towards the De la Roost manor, we stumbled upon a commotion at the central monastery. A disgruntled crowd was chanting and rumbling outside the closed doors, demanding access to the chapel. Alistan, ever the curious one, stepped forward and inquired about the situation. Turns out, the doors remained shut even though it was past noon, effectively barring them from their prayers.
 
The monastery, dedicated to Irminsul and the saints with an additional annex devoted to Belanus, seemed to be at the center of some kind of conflict. We approached the guards, a mix of armed monks and regular guards, who explained, with a touch of frustration, that they were following the abbot's orders. Apparently, the doors were to remain closed, and the duration of this closure was anyone's guess.
 
So there we were, outside the closed monastery, trying to figure out what was going on. I decided to try a magic trick, drawing sigils in the dirt to perform a "detect magic" ritual. Hayley and Dadroz, ever the practical duo, went on their own recon mission. Dadroz, with his stealthy ways, vanished like a puff of smoke (seriously, that guy creeps me out sometimes), while Hayley sent her trusty raven familiar on a scouting trip.
 
Hayley's raven didn't pick up any suspicious activity inside the monastery – everything seemed normal with monks going about their business and open doors. However, it did spot two shady-looking dwarves outside the square. Hayley the detective followed them with the raven until they disappeared into a tavern.
 
Meanwhile, Alistan, channeling his inner diplomat, approached the guards. Recognizing the De la Roost name, they surprisingly requested his help in calming down the crowd. Alistan put on his best charming act and tried to weasel his way into seeing the Abbot, but the guards insisted he was too busy. Alistan, not one to give up easily, persisted, and the guards finally relented, going to check with the Abbot.
 
While they were gone, Alistan, showing off his leadership skills, stepped into the guards' shoes and started calming the crowd. Surprisingly, it worked somewhat, with the crowd thinning from a disgruntled mob of fifty to a still-annoyed group of thirty.
 
By the time I finished my ritual (turns out it takes longer than expected to draw those fancy sigils in the dirt!), I was bummed to discover no magical aura around the place. It wasn't the news I was hoping for, but at least it meant everyone gathered there was who they appeared to be. No hidden magical baddies, just a bunch of frustrated citizens.
 
After a thirty-minute wait, a guard finally appeared, informing us the Abbot could spare a single minute. However, he suggested a discreet entrance to avoid further antagonizing the disgruntled crowd outside. We followed the guard through a maze of narrow, winding corridors, eventually emerging into a grand temple adorned with a colossal golden statue of Belenus.
 
A dedicated prayer area stood before it, the serenity disrupted by two clearly damaged statues flanking a seemingly unharmed central figure. Beside them stood Father Eton, the Abbot himself. He acknowledged Liliana and Alistan as "noble De la Roosts," so their names clearly carry a lot of weight here. He inquired about their church attendance, which received a hesitant response – apparently, their visits had dwindled since leaving Hillfield as children.
 
Alistan cut to the chase, asking about the locked shrine. Father Eton revealed that the Belenus faith required prayers before noon, under the high sun. However, recent vandalism had plagued the monastery, resulting in the destruction of the two flanking statues. But that wasn't all.
 
Upon closer inspection, the remaining statue – thankfully intact – displayed a haunting sight: tiny specks of blood staining the corners of its eyes, as if it were weeping. Father Eton confirmed the blood's presence, though he assured us no magic was involved (a fact I confirmed with my own magic). This inexplicable "miracle" was the reason for the closed chapel – the Abbot feared it would incite panic among the congregation.
 
Liliana, her hand instinctively touching her holy symbol, sensed a desecration around the statue. Father Eton acknowledged the desecration but reiterated it wasn't an explanation for the bleeding. My sarcastic sister couldn't resist a quip about Belenus being "affronted," which didn't exactly amuse the Abbot.
 
We all scoured the chapel for clues, mostly finding our own footprints (not exactly the divine heroes Ace and Spade, eh?). But then, Liliana and Ileas spotted something peculiar: the dust only went up to the second row of benches, no dirty footprints beyond. This meant the vandals skillfully avoided leaving any tracks further in.
 
Meanwhile, Hayley, with her trusty raven acting as a scout, discovered that the two mysterious dwarfs had gone underground, into the sewers of the city, just outside of the monastery. Now, I know what you're thinking, diary – not exactly the glamorous adventure we were hoping for, but hey, desperate times call for desperate measures. We figured the satyrs could be involved, and maybe even their secret base was hidden down there.
 
Leaving the monastery, we saw that the crowd had dwindled to a mere ten people. Finding a small park, we located the ancient sewer cover. Liliana jumped right in, her thirst for exploration overcoming any sense of smell.
 
Entering the sewer, we were immediately hit by a wall of stench. It didn't take long for Hayley, bless her heart, to become visibly nauseated. She attempted to mask the smell with cloth, but with limited success. We also noticed warnings against using open flames, a reminder to keep my pyromaniac tendencies in check.
 
Alistan, sharp as ever, picked up the sound of labor in the distance. Leading the way, we found Gael and Dadroz returning with news. They discovered a light emanating from a side entrance and a cage containing a horrifying purple monstrosity – Dadroz identified it as an "Ettercap," a kind of nightmarish spider-human hybrid.
 
They also spotted a group of dwarves digging, seemingly expanding a hidden room. Trying to be stealthy (emphasis on "trying"), we inched closer. Alistan, however, tripped and let out a yelp, earning a less-than-subtle shush from Hayley. Luckily, we went unnoticed.
 
Dadroz, always the bold one, took point and approached the locked Ettercap cage. He even pocketed the key, just in case. His confidence, however, got the better of him. As he entered the room, the dwarves spotted him and demanded his identity.
 
One dwarf, distinguished by his white beard and hair, emerged, his initial suspicion fading as Dadroz (smooth talker extraordinaire) fabricated a story about showing "a secret passage" to his friends (namely, us). The dwarf, mistaking us for a thief guild, muttered something about leaving each other alone.
 
However, just as Dadroz turned to leave, Liliana and Alistan, never ones to back down, confronted the dwarves. A tense discussion ensued, filled with talk of permits, historical rights, and veiled threats of involving the guards. The situation was getting out of hand, and Hayley and Liliana suspected the dwarves might lash out if anyone else showed up.
 
Alistan attempted to get answers, but the dwarves remained tight-lipped. As tensions ran high, Alistan instinctively reached for his weapon, causing the dwarves to tense up and grab theirs. I prepared a spell, waiting for the situation to escalate.
 
Unfortunately, Alistan, in his eagerness, moved closer, which the dwarfs misinterpreted as an attack. Gael immediately reacted with a blunted arrow, knocking out one of the dwarves in a single hit. The fight was on! Liliana landed a solid blow on the leader, while Dadroz, reappearing from the shadows like a phantom, impaled another dwarf with a critical arrow.
 
I, caught off guard by the sudden chaos, released my spell on the leader, but it proved ineffective. As I fumbled with my magic, a horrifying screech pierced the air. I spun around to see the monstrous Ettercap, freed from its cage, lumbering towards me, ready to pounce.
 
In that split second, the fight shifted. Alistan and Liliana, heroes in their own right, rushed to my defense, while Dadroz reappeared from the shadows, delivering a swift but ineffective stab at the beast. Pushed back by the stench and fear, I stumbled back, falling into the sewer water, a strategic retreat albeit an undignified one. Most importantly, I am still alive to tell the tale.
 
Hayley luckily cast a curse on the monster, causing the Ettercap to miss Dadroz. Finally, with a combined effort, Liliana and Alistan managed to hack the beast down, sending it to whatever afterlife awaited spider-human hybrids.
 
So we managed to subdue the dwarves, though unfortunately, one didn't make it (an arrow through the head from Dadroz is usually not a survivable condition). It hadn’t been our intention to kill any, but with the fight breaking out so abruptly, we had found ourselves in a life-and-death situation. The whole scene was a mess, and we found few clues to explain their presence.
 
Hayley, Gael, and I decided to fetch the guards, leaving Alistan, Liliana, and Ileas to keep an eye on things. Since it was pitch black down there and I was the only one who could see, I played my part by providing light. Plus, a little magical de-skunking couldn't hurt after that ordeal.
 
While we were gone, a mysterious cloaked figure appeared, drawn by the commotion. He sported the symbol of Irminsul and had blonde hair. Alistan, Liliana, and Ileas described him as tight-lipped, refusing to even disclose his name.
 
Luckily, Ileas, with his artistic talent, had quickly sketched the man in his notebook (seriously, the guy draws like a pro!). The drawing didn't ring any bells, but upon questioning one of the surviving dwarfs (we woke him up with a bit of healing magic), they revealed this shady dude as their employer, "Brother Marik," who apparently hired them to dig for some kind of treasure – a book, to be precise. We didn’t know at the time if that was his real name or not, but that's what the dwarf called him.
 
Gael, our elegant diplomat, explained the situation to the guards and requested their assistance in arresting the dwarves. They sent five guards with us, and it took about half an hour to navigate back to the smelly scene. Hayley, meanwhile, stayed topside and searched the monastery for Brother Marik, but came up empty-handed.
 
The aftermath of the sewer brawl felt surreal. The awoken dwarf launched into an accusatory tirade when he saw the guards approach. Apparently, in his version of events, we were the aggressors, instigating the fight and causing the death of his comrade. He also emphasized Alistan and Liliana’s noble status, hinting that there was going to be some kind of special privilege.
 
We were all escorted back to the guardhouse, the dwarves placed in a holding cell while we waited in a separate room. Liliana wore a smirk, seemingly exhilarated by the adventure, while Alistan stood subdued, clearly shaken by the dwarf's death.
 
Looking at my companions, it got me thinking, diary, about the path I've chosen. Is this the life I want – living on the edge, bending the rules? Or should I follow a more traditional path of oaths and knighthoods? Despite my less-than-stellar performance against the Ettercap, a nervous thrill bubbled under the surface. While we waited, I used my magic to cleanse the rest of my friends of the lingering sewer stench. More of a favor for myself than for them, to be honest. I never would have thought that the first trick I ever learned would be the magical spell that I would receive the most gratitude for.
 
Suddenly, Sergeant Berris entered the room, accompanied by none other than Sophia De la Roost. They were in the midst of a heated discussion about the incident. Berris argued that the dwarf's death necessitated further action, but Sophia countered, insisting it was an accident and shouldn't be reported to the council. This whole "noble treatment" thing is definitely starting to get under my skin.
 
Berris, reluctantly acquiesced, and we were released. Alistan, however, insisted on taking full responsibility for our actions. However, Sophia, clearly displeased, shut him and Liliana down, demanding they remain silent and let her handle the situation. She launched into a scathing lecture, calling us "troublemakers" and comparing us to normal kids who would be "drinking and horse riding" instead of "sneaking around sewers." She reminded us, with a hint of disapproval, of our "young" age and our place within the walls of the city. It wasn't every day you heard a mother complain about her children not engaging in enough partying, even though, in this case, I had to admit, it seemed significantly safer than sewer exploration.
 
With her tirade finished, Sophia marched off, leaving us bewildered. We eventually found Hayley a few steps away, casually indulging in pastries at the Sylvan bakery, her face dusted with powdered sugar and a mischievous grin on her lips. Considering the crazy day we just had, I couldn't help but admire her casualness. As she greeted us, it was clear she was overly pleased to have avoided the whole arrest situation.
 
We set out to our next objective: Mission Found-out-everything-about-Marik. This time with Liliana leading the charge. She threw some shade at the guards, asking about Brother Marik, hoping for some juicy gossip. Apparently, the guard knew the name, but claimed Maric had left the order a month ago – conveniently just before things started getting weird in the city.
 
We get another audience with the Abbot, who looks like he just finished speed-reading through a particularly dry scripture. Liliana immediately launched into a story about dwarves, tunnels, and a mysterious book. The Abbot, ever the picture of composure, raises an eyebrow, surprised to hear Marik's name swirling in this muddy plot.
 
He described Marik as a "troubled individual," which is one way to put it. Apparently, he wasn't much older than us, causing me to internally groan – great, another potential role model gone rogue. Turns out, Marik wasn't exactly "asked" to leave; it was more of a gentle nudge towards the exit door, complete with an ultimatum involving behavior modification or early retirement.
 
The plot thickened, as the Abbot revealed the existence of a forbidden library – a treasure trove of ancient and probably slightly dangerous magical texts. Marik, ever the rebel teenager (in a slightly older, robed package), couldn't resist a good forbidden fruit, and snuck into the library after dark. Needless to say, this little transgression didn't exactly endear him to the Abbot, hence the "gentle nudge."
 
Now, you'd think with all this excitement, I'd be granted access to this forbidden library, right? Wrong. The Abbot, bless his heart, was as enthusiastic about the idea as a slug at a salt convention. Apparently, the books are remnants of the monastery's "Belenus only" days, and not open to anyone.
 
Feeling slightly deflated, we decided to do some good old-fashioned detective work. The observant Dadroz noticed the statue was still weeping its little red tears. I, using my vast alchemical knowledge, confirmed it was indeed blood (and I didn’t even need to set fire to anything to check it).
 
Liliana then inquired about what lurked beneath the chapel, hoping for a secret lair or something equally thrilling. The Abbot, however, burst her bubble by informing us the chapel itself was just the old living and storage quarters, with nothing underneath - not exactly the topic of an adventure story.
 
I decided to try my hand at solving the mystery of the weeping statue. Armed with a handful of incense sticks (borrowed from a rather confused monk), Alistan and I meticulously scoured the chapel, searching for any hidden doors or latches. After what felt like an eternity (and a minor incense-induced coughing fit), I finally noticed a draft pulling the smoke towards the wall relief.
 
Eureka! I called upon Dadroz, our resident rogue (and master of all things vaguely illegal), to investigate. After a bit of poking and prodding (and probably muttering some curses under his breath), the relief sculpture swung open, revealing a hidden chamber.
 
Just as we were congratulating ourselves on our detective skills, we heard movement from within. The chamber, illuminated by a faint glow, revealed several cloaked figures, all looking like they just stepped out of a bad novel. The robed figures immediately drew their weapons, clearly not thrilled about unexpected guests.
 
Gael, Liliana, and Dadroz, ever the action heroes, charged into battle. Alistan, unfortunately, found himself on the receiving end of a curved blade, but luckily, Liliana used her trusty shield to deflect the blow (seriously, that girl is a walking tank!).
 
Me? Well, I was stuck in a bit of a conundrum. While I wanted to help, I also didn't want to accidentally vaporize anyone. Unfortunately, my spell repertoire seems to be lacking in the "non-lethal takedown" department. I attempted a weak spell, but it just bounced off the robed figure like a feather against a brick wall. Hayley, my better half, stepped in and unleashed some sleep-inducing magic, effectively putting the remaining robed figures out like a candle. Clearly, I need to expand my magical skillset beyond “burn stuff to a crisp” and "smell slightly nicer."
 
We secured the robed men with some good old-fashioned rope. The Abbot, who conveniently decided to join us after hearing the commotion, recognized them as brothers of the order.
 
Things got even weirder when we explored the hidden chamber. Turns out, it wasn't just a dusty storage room – it was a makeshift altar dedicated to none other than Morhim, the freakin' lich! The Abbot, looking like he'd swallowed a lemon, confirmed our suspicions. Apparently, this Morhim dude started a war against Keralon a hundred years ago, founding a whole kingdom based on… well, being really, really dead. Not exactly the most cheerful neighborhood association president.
 
Ileas and Alistan, our local history buffs, filled us in on more juicy details. Morhim, it turns out, had been a local Hillfield boy with a talent for magic. He went off to Keralon, aiming to become a big-shot advisor to the king. But things took a dark turn when he started having visions of an undead army attacking the kingdom. Dude went completely bonkers trying to stop it, ended up becoming a lich himself, and voila – the very threat he was trying to prevent. Talk about a major fail, right?
 
So, diary, we're officially in over our heads. We've got rogue monks worshiping a lich, a noble family in service of a probably-evil Archfey, a brewing rebellion and a whole lot of unanswered questions. One thing's for sure, this adventure just took a turn for the undead…