Watcher of Fate

A little while ago, in Youdu

The officials of Youdu, standing in a carefully arranged line at the base of Malakar’s airship, were an imposing sight themselves. Each one was a high-ranking Oni, their tall, muscular frames adding a sense of weight to the ceremonial welcome. Their faces, though varied in shape and size, were uniformly stern, marked by the proud horns and sharp, angular features of their kind. Skin tones ranged from deep crimson to stormy blue, their eyes glowing faintly with the inherent magical energy of Tartarus.

Dressed in traditional garb, the Oni officials cut regal figures against the backdrop of Youdu’s mist-clad mountains. Their robes, made of rich silks and brocades, were intricately embroidered with delicate patterns of swirling clouds, mountain peaks, and mythical beasts. The garments were elegant, flowing, and layered, with long sleeves and wide sashes tied around their waists, each element carefully arranged to reflect their status within the city. The colors were deep and muted, dark greens, royal blues, and blacks, with gold and silver accents woven into the fabric to signify their rank and importance.

On their heads, some wore formal headdresses adorned with feathers, jade beads, or polished obsidian pieces, while others displayed their horns prominently, allowing their natural features to speak for their power. Their sashes were fastened with polished jade ornaments, and at their sides hung ceremonial sabers, though these blades were more for show than for battle. The overall impression was one of great refinement, yet beneath the beauty of their attire, the weight of their authority was unmistakable. They represented Youdu’s elite, the stewards of a city that had withstood countless conflicts, and now they found themselves welcoming a devil lord of considerable reputation.

The lead official, an elder Oni with deep crimson skin and long, silver-streaked hair, stood at the forefront. His robes were the most elaborate, a deep emerald green woven with golden thread, depicting scenes of ancient battles and victories. His horns curved gracefully upward, polished to a gleaming finish, and his crimson eyes, though composed, revealed a flicker of unease as they rested on Malakar’s warships overhead. The symbol of his authority, a jade pendant carved with ancient runes, hung from a thick chain around his neck, and his hand rested lightly on the hilt of his ceremonial saber. Though he radiated calm and dignity, there was no mistaking the tension that gripped him as he approached the devil lord.

"Welcome, Lord Malakar," he intoned formally, his deep voice resonating with an air of practiced diplomacy. "We are honored by your presence here for the Investiture of Yomotsuhi Lilith. Youdu welcomes you."

Behind him, the other officials nodded in agreement, though their sharp eyes flickered with barely concealed apprehension. They understood the delicate balance they now faced. Welcoming a powerful figure like Malakar into their city was no small feat, and the devil lord’s reputation preceded him. Each of them wore a mask of decorum, yet there was a quiet undercurrent of unease in their tightly drawn postures. They had spent their lives mastering the intricate politics of Youdu, but even they knew that the presence of Malakar, and his fleet introduced a dangerous new dynamic.

One official, a blue-skinned Oni with white horns and robes of midnight blue, stood slightly behind the elder, her eyes sharp and calculating. Her silver-threaded sash was fastened with a brooch shaped like a coiling serpent, and her black hair was swept up in an elaborate style, adorned with pearls and silver pins. She exuded a cold elegance, and while her expression remained carefully neutral, her gaze lingered on the devil lord’s soldiers with growing suspicion.

Another, a burly Oni with ashen skin and bull-like horns, kept his hand near the ceremonial dagger at his waist. His robes were black, trimmed with silver, and embroidered with symbols of power and protection. Though he appeared stoic, his eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Malakar’s warships descend further into their positions, clearly evaluating the potential threat they posed.

Despite their outward calm, the Youdu officials knew that Malakar’s arrival was more than just a ceremonial visit. His presence, along with the fleet of warships and heavily armed soldiers, signaled something far more complex, something dangerous. They would have to navigate this situation with the utmost care, balancing the need to honor Yomotsuhi Lilith’s investiture with the growing threat looming above their city.

The elder Oni cleared his throat, bowing once more as Malakar approached. “We trust that your journey was pleasant, Lord Malakar,” he said, though the subtext was clear, he hoped the devil lord’s intentions would remain as peaceful as the ceremony demanded.

Malakar, his eyes gleaming with hidden amusement, bowed his head slightly in return. “Indeed, the skies were clear, and the journey smooth. Your hospitality is as expected, perfect.” His voice, smooth and dark, left no room for doubt as to his true nature. Despite the formality of his words, the weight of his power hung heavy in the air, and the officials could not ignore the underlying threat in his presence.

As Malakar spoke, he watched the Oni closely, noting the tension in their shoulders, the way their eyes flickered between him and his soldiers. They were trained diplomats, masters of subtlety and ceremony, but Malakar could feel their apprehension. It amused him, how they held themselves with such dignity, even while sensing the tightening noose around their city.

But for now, he would let them think they still had control.

As the elder Oni spoke again, Malakar felt the familiar chime echo in his mind. He let his gaze drift momentarily, pulling up the notification.

Contract fulfilled. Deal with Quill has been dissolved as per agreement.

A slow smile crept across his face, though he masked it quickly before the officials could notice. Elara, he mused. What a delightful surprise she turned out to be. He had played his cards well with her, and now, Quill was no longer his concern. After securing Youdu, perhaps he’d seek her out again. There was still so much potential to exploit.

But that was for another time.

Turning his focus back to the gathered officials, Malakar allowed a more serious tone to enter his voice. “Now, speaking of opportunity,” he began, his eyes gleaming as he looked toward the warships taking position above the city. “I believe there is much to discuss about the future of Youdu.”

The elder Oni nodded cautiously, but before he could respond, Malakar raised his hand, and behind him, several squads of heavily armed soldiers began marching off his airship. Their armor clinked in unison, and their weapons gleamed menacingly in the sunlight. The officials shifted uneasily as the soldiers took formation, standing at attention but making it clear that this was no ordinary diplomatic visit.

“I propose a new arrangement,” Malakar continued, his voice low and persuasive. “One that ensures Youdu’s continued strength and prosperity, under my guidance, of course.”

As his warships loomed overhead, casting long shadows over the city, Malakar’s smile widened. He had them exactly where he wanted them. The game had only just begun.

---

As Elara checks into the adventure’s guild in Fort Stonehelm

In the grand hall of the Frostspire Adventurers Guild, the soft glow of enchanted lanterns illuminated rows of desks piled high with scrolls and ledgers. A mage administrator named Lyria sat amidst the organized chaos, her fingers deftly flipping through pages of arcane texts. Clad in modest robes adorned with subtle magical knotwork, her sharp eyes scanned each document with practiced efficiency.

A faint chiming sound disrupted the quiet ambiance, activating a notification spell. Lyria glanced up, spotting a small, luminescent knot hovering above her desk. With a curious frown, she waved her hand over it, and a translucent message unfolded in the air before her.

As she read the contents, her eyes widened. One of their missing adventurers, Elara, had checked in at another guild branch, far away at the Shifting Dunes. A look of pure happiness washed over Lyria's face, her usual professional demeanor momentarily giving way to relief and joy. Elara had been presumed lost or killed, along with most of the rescue party sent to Ebonreach. This was nothing short of a miracle.

Quickly regaining her composure, Lyria made a meticulous note in the guild's master ledger to inform Guild Leader Aric Tallhart later. She underlined Elara's name with a flourish, a small smile still playing on her lips.

Just then, another alert appeared, and a message was popping up in the guild's enchanted ledger. The tome vibrated softly, its pages fluttering open to reveal fresh ink forming words on the parchment. Lyria leaned in, her eyes darting over the lines. As she absorbed the message, her breath caught, and the color drained from her face.

Without a second thought, she snapped the ledger shut and clutched it to her chest. Rising swiftly from her chair, she moved with urgency, her robes swishing around her ankles as she hurried across the hall. Ascending the spiral staircase two steps at a time, she raced toward the Guild Leader's office, her heart pounding in her ears.

Reaching the heavy oak door adorned with intricate carvings of heroic deeds, Lyria rapped sharply. The echo of her knocking seemed to linger, amplifying the tension coiling within her.

The door opened to reveal Guild Leader Aric Tallhart, his broad-shouldered frame filling the doorway. His graying hair framed a face marked by wisdom and experience, deep blue eyes gazing at her with a mix of concern and authority.

"Lyria, what is the matter?" he asked, his voice steady yet edged with curiosity.

"Sir, I apologize for the interruption," she managed between breaths. "But we've just received word, Elara, one of the MIA adventurers from the Eldrin Ebonreach rescue mission, has checked in at a guild branch all the way out at the Shifting Dunes."

Aric's eyebrows lifted slightly, a hint of a smile touching his lips. "That is unexpected news, certainly uplifting. But is it urgent enough to forgo the usual debriefing schedule?"

Lyria swallowed, her grip tightening on the ledger. "She sent a message, sir. It needs to be read immediately. It explains what happened, and... it's not what we thought."

His expression grew more serious. "Not the Lich killing everyone as we previously believed? Aside from Kaelira, who returned with significant memory loss?"

She nodded emphatically, extending the ledger toward him. "Yes, sir. There's more to the story. Please, you should read it now."

Aric took the ledger from her hands, his gaze never leaving her face until he looked down at the opened page. As his eyes moved across the hastily penned words, his demeanor shifted. The warmth in his eyes gave way to a storm of emotions, surprise, concern, and a deepening frown that etched lines across his forehead.

"Well... crap," he muttered, the uncharacteristic expletive slipping out as his eyes widened. The weight of the revelation hung heavily in the air between them, the gravity of Elara's message sinking in.

---

One week later

Lyria pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders as she stepped into the warm embrace of the Crystal Heart Inn. The chatter of patrons and the comforting aroma of hearty stew enveloped her, markedly different from the biting chill outside. The inn's interior was aglow with the soft light of lanterns, casting a golden hue over polished wooden tables and the faces of weary travelers finding respite.

As she approached the bar, Breda, the dwarf bartender with emerald eyes and a braided beard adorned with tiny silver charms, greeted her with a welcoming smile. "Evening, lass. What can I get for you?" she asked, her voice rich and warm.

Lyria returned the smile, though a hint of urgency flickered in her eyes. "Actually, I'm looking for Howard Crowhurst. Is he here?"

Before Breda could respond, Yvanna, the innkeeper, gracefully approached. Her four arms moved with effortless coordination, one holding a tray of empty mugs while another gestured softly. Her lavender skin seemed to shimmer in the lantern light, and her delicate, insect-like wings fluttered subtly behind her. Her silver hair cascaded like a river of moonlight over her shoulders.

"May I ask what this is about?" Yvanna inquired, her tone gentle yet protective, her eyes studying Lyria with maternal concern.

Lyria met her gaze, her own eyes reflecting the weight of the news she carried. "I have important news for him about his daughter, Elara. She has been found alive."

Breda's eyes widened, a spark of joy lighting up her face. "Elara? She's alive?" she exclaimed, her voice carrying enough for nearby patrons to turn their heads in curiosity.

Yvanna's expression softened, a hopeful smile touching her lips. "Come with me," she said, nodding toward a staircase at the back of the inn. "I'll take you to Howard."

They weaved through the bustling common area, Yvanna leading the way with a almost otherworldly grace. As they ascended the creaking wooden stairs, the sounds of the tavern below faded, replaced by the quiet hush of the inn's private quarters.

Stopping before a worn wooden door, Yvanna knocked softly. "Howard, dear, it's Yvanna. The Adventurers' Guild has news for you."

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, the door creaked open to reveal Howard Crowhurst. He stood hunched, his gaunt frame accentuated by the loose clothes he wore. His salt-and-pepper hair was disheveled, and his straggly beard did little to hide the deep lines etched by worry and exhaustion. His eyes were dulled by stress.

"News?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "What news could there be?"

Yvanna placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her touch comforting. "Good news, Howard," she said softly. "Please, listen."

Lyria stepped forward, her emotions welling as she faced the weary man. "Mr. Crowhurst, I'm Lyria from the Frostspire Adventurers' Guild. We've received word that your daughter, Elara, has checked in at one of our branches in the Shifting Sands desert."

Howard's eyes widened, a flicker of life igniting within them. "Elara... she's alive?" he whispered, as if afraid speaking too loudly might shatter the reality of it.

"Yes," Lyria confirmed, a gentle smile forming. "She's alive."

A tremor passed through Howard as he grappled with the news. "How far away is that? The Shifting Sands, how long until I can see her?"

Lyria's smile faltered slightly. "It's thousands of leagues from here, sir. The desert is quite distant."

Determination hardened his features. "I need to go to her. I have to leave immediately."

Yvanna squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "Perhaps it's best to wait, Howard," she suggested kindly.

Lyria nodded in agreement. "We've already spoken with the Fort Stonehelm Adventurers' Guild. Elara is making her way back here. It would be best if you stayed; she'll come home to you."

Hope and impatience warred in Howard's eyes. "But how long will that take? When can I expect her?"

A shadow passed over Lyria's face. "I wish I could say for certain," she admitted. "The most direct route back is through Gabilanûr, but there's unrest there at the moment. Travel is delayed, and the journey could take longer than usual."

Howard's shoulders sagged slightly, the brief surge of energy giving way to renewed worry. "So we don't know when she'll arrive," he said quietly.

Yvanna stepped closer, her wings shimmering softly as she moved. "She knows the way home, Howard. And she's a strong young woman. Until then, you're among friends here."

Breda appeared at the top of the stairs, carrying a steaming mug. "Thought you might need this," she said kindly, offering it to Howard. "On the house."

He accepted the mug with a grateful nod, the warmth of it seeping into his cold hands. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Lyria placed a comforting hand over his. "We'll keep you updated with any news," she promised. "And if you need anything, the guild is here to help."

Howard looked between the three women, the innkeeper, the bartender, and the guild representative, all offering him solace and support. A hint of a smile touched his lips for the first time in a long while. "Thank you," he repeated, his eyes misting over. "Thank you all."