Part 1
It was well past midnight and The Hissing Lobster’s business was winding down for the night. The ever-present Innkeeper had just finished cleaning the last table and was putting out the candles when the front door of the inn clicked open. A small woman wearing completely black armour strode in, a claymore longer than she was on her back. Glowing white chains wrapped around her arms, attaching her to her claymore. Waving to the Innkeeper, she walked to the edge of the bar and leaned against it.
“Am I the first one, then?” she asked him. He nodded. “Odd, usually Sargon beats me here. Well, no matter. Do you mind?” she asked, reaching for a bottle of beer.
“By all means, help yourself.” he replied, bowing. “The bottles aren’t for show.”
As she finished the bottle, the door opened again. This time it was a grey-robed woman with raven black hair. Her bare feet left frost on the ground where she walked. “Hello, Vordea.” she said in a flat monotone to the small woman at the bar.
“Eigengrau, you’re unusually early.” Vordea replied, reaching for another beer. “What happened to being last to arrive?”
“From a certain point of view, I am last. Agbus does not attend these meetings... well. Not exactly. So I am the last Primordial God to arrive.” Eigengrau replied with a bow. “I needed to speak with you privately before the meeting began, so everyone else is delayed. The Inn is currently suspended.”
Vordea put down her beer. “There’s something wrong? I know the look on your face.”
“You remain the only person able to read me, it seems. Do you recall 5 years ago, my business in Port Nautitis?”
“Ah yeah, that orphan boy, you petitioned at one of our meetings to directly intervene, was most unusual, that’s why I overrode everyone and said yes. You planning to tell me why, I suppose?”
“Yes. Somebody used time magic to change that boy’s past. When I arrived in the city, there was the source of the problems right in front of me. A boy in regal clothes begging. I knew something was off immediately so I went to his house and discovered it in ruins, yet suspended in time. It was an unskilled mage who did it, so I immediately ruled out my 2 apprentices.”
Vordea picked her beer back up. “Now this is interesting. Most interesting. By all means, continue.”
“I later found the culprit, and that is when it gets interesting. They claimed you told them to kill these people with that magic. I am unable to walk to the moment where it supposedly happened, making me suspicious. I would not openly accuse you without evidence, so here we are. Vordea, have you been meddling with my magic?” Eigengrau looked uncharacteristically angry for such a monotone Goddess. “When Sirene rewrote reality, you agreed with me to not mess with time or death. You called me the missing piece. But if the pleadings of this half-insane mage when faced with his untimely death are true, even slightly, you are risking restarting the War in Heaven.”
“Did you spare this mage?” Vordea asked after a long pause. Her demeanour had changed. One hand was on her claymore, and she looked ready for a fight.
“Of course not. The price of using my magic is an early death. But even the grandest of lies is rooted in a kernel of truth.” Eigengrau replied, glowering at Vordea.
“Then we have no problem.” Vordea replied, releasing her hand from her claymore. “I do not meddle in mortal affairs. I made a mistake 25,000 years ago, and I’ll never repeat it. The mortal realm is a world in a bottle for me, I only observe, I rarely interact. My reputation is after all, not unearned. The Taciturn Goddess, they call me at times.”
“Very well, I choose to believe you, Vordea. It’s past time we start the meeting, anyway.” Eigengrau said, snapping her fingers. The door to the inn opened once more, and a large bearded man entered, holding a massive war-hammer.
“Haha! It seems I am not the first arrival for once!” he exclaimed. “Ladies, how are you?”
“You owe me a beer, Sargon.” the Innkeeper replied, tossing a bottle into the man’s hands. “Don’t think I don’t count them.”
“Forgive me for assuming they’re on the house!” he roared, laughing. “How is my favourite Inn?”
“Business is up. Lots of travellers these days, and bandit attacks have finally stopped in the region. Guess they finally heeded Xilro’s warnings.” the Innkeeper said, opening a bottle himself.
“Excellent! Now as for that beer, I have some vintage Dwarven stouts dating back to the reign of Old Ironhand himself, how does that sound?” Sargon asked, downing the bottle in a single gulp.
“Stone age swill? I guess I could claim it’s some secret family blend.” the Innkeeper shrugged, sipping his beer. “Drunken louts won’t know the difference anyway.”
“Any word from the Raven King?” Vordea asked. Sargon shook his head.
“It’s been 400 years since I’ve seen him.” Sargon said, sadly. “I’m starting to think maybe he really did perish. A fool he was, but I still liked him well enough.”
As Sargon finished speaking, the door of the inn opened again. A blinding white light came from the open doorway, and a man in pure white robes stepped through. The Innkeeper shook his head, and went downstairs. Vordea meanwhile, stood in shock, unable to believe who she was witnessing.
“Agbus?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“You are... late.” Eigengrau flatly stated to him. “You should have arrived second.” Eigengrau strode over to the white robed man, then touched his shoulder. Seeing her hand remain intact, she understood. “Ah. You are not fully here, is that it?” she asked. He nodded in response. “Your avatar knows?” she asked.
The light fading from his body, he simply shook his head.
“You did not need to get all dressed up fancy for us.” Eigengrau said, walking back to her place at the bar. “Why did you come?”
Agbus walked to the largest table and pulled a book from out of his robes and placed it on the table. He pointed at the name of the author, before bowing and leaving in a puff of white smoke.
Vordea, Eigengrau, and Sargon went over to the book Agbus left.
“It can’t be...”
“Now this is interesting...”
“Of course, this is a problem.”
“What’s the commotion?” the Innkeeper asked as he came back up the stairs with a new keg.
“Shadry isn’t dead.”
The Innkeeper’s expression changed. “So how are we dealing with this?” he asked, frowning.
“I am going to kill Shadry myself if I have to! Eigengrau!” Vordea yelled.
“Vordea, I cannot.” Eigengrau flatly replied.
“Why not?” Vordea snapped back, her hand already reaching for her claymore, the chains glowing brightly and screeching.
“He is out of my reach.” Eigengrau pointed up. “He is on Luna.”
At this point, the Inn door creaked open and a piece of paper fluttered in, landing in front of the Innkeeper. He picked it up and after perusing it, announced “It seems Zalas is unable to join us tonight.”
“We can begin then, Vaust.” Eigengrau stated to the Innkeeper. “Tonight’s agenda has been suspended in light of recent events. Vordea, as eldest God, you have the floor.”
Vordea walked to the end of the banquet table and cleared her throat, the chains on her arms groaning as she did so, as if holding back a titanic force.
“I am motioning that I enter the mortal realm in all my power to hunt Shadry.” Vordea calmly stated, after gathering her thoughts. “None of our Avatars or High Priests are strong enough to face him, and King Zarfangal would not understand the crime well enough to know to kill him.”
“What if we told Zarfangal of the nature of the crime?” Vaust asked, sitting on the edge of the table.
“Denied. The less that know the better.” Sargon said, shaking his head. “Eigen, are you certain Shadry is out of your reach?”
“He cleverly hid the moment he left the shape.” Eigengrau monotoned. “I cannot find it. But I can find the trail he left, and it leads to Luna.”
“Eigen, are you strong enough to face him?” Sargon asked. “It is not that I don’t trust the combat prowess of Vordea, but, well...”
“I understand your concern.” Vaust replied, tapping his hands on the table. “But Eigen can’t leave the mortal plane. I don’t run this Inn purely as a hobby you know.”
“It’s time for a vote.” Vordea said, crossing her arms. “All of those in favour?”
“Approved. Justice cannot be denied.” Sargon said, slamming his fist on the table. “Shadry cannot escape again.”
“Approved. His luck has run out.” Vaust said, smiling wickedly.
“Approved. I cannot leave, so you must do it for me, Vordea.” Eigengrau responded, her hoarfrost thickening. “As we have unanimous consent, let us move to the next item on the agenda.”