1. The Cloakwood

"Ah a good mentor makes a world of difference for sure." A few memories pass through Idas mind a far away look in her eyes momentarily before coming back to herself wotb a smitk "The clergy at the temple would have an aneurism if they saw my clothes in such a state. If its not too much trouble some clean clothes would be very much appreciated." thinking again for a moment Ida adds "I know my companions can be rough sometimes, but surely you couldn’t have been ignorant to all that you saw today... how are you feeling about everything?"

With such a simple question and her lifelong friend right beside her, the near-death experiences and heaviness of the day melt away like snow in the warmth of Kuladhar. She smiles and sighs contentedly. It felt just like home, just with different stars.

"We'll always be under the same stars." The written words from Papa enter her mind.

Different angle of stars, she corrects herself.

"The World. Time. The Weave." she says with awe for the endless expanse above. Her eye-stars whiten as she speaks. "I don't understand how I understand it, but I...do!"

She closes one eye and holds a hand out at arms length, sticking four fingers sideways, kept close together. She moves her arm so her hand looks like it's just beneath the bottom of the Sleepless Knights, a constellation of five stars: a square plus one in the middle. It was one she knew Aiwë could spot. "Nine finger widths down from the bottom two Sleepless Knights." she says, accounting for the fact that Aiwë had bigger fingers than her own. "The Eyes of the Watching Woman. I can swear they're brighter tonight. And I can...sense something. Things that might happen better tomorrow if I keep my eyes open. Lately I've been seeing figments of things before they happen. And it's getting stronger!"

She lowers her hand picks up her old tome off her chest, flips a few pages, and holds it over Aiwë to see. "I don't remember writing this. But this is my handwriting," she says, pointing to the strange text in her handwriting that surrounds Lily's doodle of a flower. She starts flipping through pages, showing increasingly cramped sigils wrapping throughout all of her already-stuffed pages. "And there keeps getting more! I can translate it, but...not into words...just...ideas. 'Tis...well, bizarre" she says, eyes widening with wonder. "And beautiful," she continues, relaxing again.

She lowers the book back to her chest and continues gazing at the stars above. "I'm going to have Noctalia keep an eye on me each night now and let me know in the morning if she catches me sleep-writing or something. Maybe I could—"

She cuts off at the sound of Aldous unintentionally announcing his presence. She looks sideways to Aiwë and grins fondly, a few of her eye-stars twinkling to pink.

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"Maybe I should get a frog eye next time! I wonder though, would it protrude from the top of my head?"

Her brow lowers, turning her grin into an uncertain cringe. She faces upwards then tilts her head back and props herself on her elbows, arching so she can see Aldous upside down. "Do NOT do that." Stella says, then giggles.

She pushes herself up to a sitting position and turns around to face him, still sitting.

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"Um, so sorry to intrude, but might I borrow Aiwë for a moment? I need to... speak with her. It's a matter of some privacy, I'm afraid."

She shakes her head slightly. "I am not an Aiwë library, but I suppose?" she says as seriously as she can manage, then smiles.

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As she walks away with him, does the look she casts back at Stella say 'help'?

Stella raises and eyebrow, bites her lip, and gives a helpless shrug. "How?" she mouths back as they head away. If Aldous wanted to talk to Aiwë, stalling him wouldn't accomplish much.

She turns back to her tome, trying to figure out what they would be talking about. She could send in Noctalia to eavesdrop! But he said it was private...and she didn't like the idea of breaking his trust like that, whether he found out or not. If it were important enough, Aiwë would tell her.

Aiwë listens with rapt attention, watching the stars and looking at her notebook. Now here is godly power, celestial at the very least, and it is soothing and uplifting to hear Stella talk about something that excites her so. She is coming into herself, and it makes Aiwë happy.

And Aldous... Aldous seems to make Stella happy. Aiwë glances at him as they walk.

"You did well in the mines today. We'd have been a lot poorer off without your help. And Davaeorn—it's better for Koveras that his rage was cut. Thank you for your help."

Stephan flashes a smile. "Oh, I can understand that. Master Davaeorn was a clean-freak. But he did teach me a few tricks..." He holds out his hand and flushes slightly. "I just need to... Pardon me..." He hesitantly taps her shoulder, and instantly her clothes are as clean as ever.
The mageling glares over at Dieter for a moment. "Rough? I guess you could say that."

He shakes his head to clear it and refocuses on Ida. "Ignorant? No... just determinedly indifferent, I suppose. I mean, slavery is an outright crime here, unlike, say, Calimshan. So the Iron Throne was obviously doing something illegal. But I wasn't really part of the Iron Throne! Just sent by my parents to study with this strange guy, and not even given many opportunities to write home." He runs a hand through his hair. "According to the stories, wizards always live in secluded places, you know? An old tower, at the top of a mountain, in the middle of a swamp... I just figured this old mine was one of his eccentricities, not that he was actually planning to start a war with Amn!"

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"You're looking at it wrong. You're looking at me wrong.

"You don't see me at all."

Koveras lets his extended arm fall as Aiwe vanishes. He puts a hand on his face and exhales. He kicks a rock. He looks up at the sky and sighs. And then he sits down right there in the dirt, cross-legged, and becomes lost in his own thoughts.

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"You did well in the mines today. We'd have been a lot poorer off without your help. And Davaeorn—it's better for Koveras that his rage was cut. Thank you for your help."

Aldous grins in triumph. "Honestly, the whole thing was quite fun! But, um, there's something I need to discuss with you..."

Araklusta sent a note to gardensun

Araklusta sent a note to gardensun

gardensun sent a note to Araklusta

The peace Stella had been feeling is swept away like a page in an icy wind.

She yelps and drops the book to the ground, its bloody pages facing skyward. Her breathing quickens and her heart races. She examines her hands and her arms for cuts, then scrambles to her feet and turns in circles to look around and see if there was anyone nearby. Was it her blood, or was it simply a conjuration?

Her mind races, trying to discern the meaning.

Four stars. One consumed by a corrupting red one...leading to Bhaal torturing and killing thousands...Who or what were the stars? Leaders? Factions? Organizations? ...Heroes?

Logic told her to find someone from the Baulder's Gate and ask. One of the prisoners, like Yeslick. Or find someone more experienced with the divine and visions, like Ida perhaps. With the tightness and coldness in her chest, however...the logic in her mind was fleeting as fear took over.

She folds her arms tightly to her chest and heads to the exit of the compound.

She needed to walk. The trees would help.

She looks up as she walks and sees the stars as white, malevolent eyes staring down at her rather than the comfortable friends she was used to. She stares down at her feet.

She needed to walk. The trees would help.

Part of her hoped nobody would see and stop to talk to her while another part desperately wished that they did.

Araklusta sent a note to gardensun

It's Aiwe who hears Stella's distant yelp.

Aldous nods. "Yes, those are great questions. And I'm going to talk with her about all of those. But-" He cocks his head at Aiwe. "What? What is it?"

"Stella." Aiwë races to where Stella had been lying and finds the bloody book—and no Stella.

"Stella! Aiwë searches for any sign of her. "Stella where are you?!"

Aldous is right on Aiwe's heels.

He carefully lifts Stella's notebook. "This is the same symbol we saw in Davaeorn's altar room. The symbol of Bhaal..."

The young man lightly touches the bloody tears, then rubs his fingers together. His eyes lift to find Aiwe's, and she sees in them the same fear she feels. "Aiwe... Is this her blood...?"

"I don't know." Aiwë searches the area. She isn't as good at tracking in dirt and grass, but she's been practicing. "There's no good reason for blood, and it's not like her to leave her book..."

(I always forget about Jack of All Trades so that's actually a dirty 20.)

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"Stella! Aiwë searches for any sign of her. "Stella where are you?!"

The shouts brush across her consciousness but are overshadowed by other ones.

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"Only in darkness do we see clearly. Embrace the shadows."

Stella's breathing slows. Her grip slackens. Her arms drop to her side. Her eye-stars dim, losing a touch of their luster.

Though grateful for the relief, she knows the thoughts were too...different...to be her own. "...Guardian?" she murmurs in druidic, reminded of the cloaked druid and his wolf of shadow. She turns around lethargically, looking for signs of him or the hound, or anything else that might be watching her. She felt no fear here, but...perhaps a hint of curiosity.

The lethargy on Stella deepens, but as she turns around, she does see a cloaked figure standing a short distance away. The figure raises midnight hands to remove its hood, and silver-white hair spills out to frame dark red eyes. Even in her dulled state, Stella recognizes the drow priestess Viconia DeVir.

"You wander far from your friends this night, Stella." Her voice is low and musical, ringing clearly in Stella's ears despite the hollowness of other senses. "What brings you here?"