#you can find so many gems and the proceeds go to such worthy causes

[aimeedaisies]

The Princess Royal visits a Save the Children shop in Wandsworth

Published 22 February 2024

The Princess Royal, as Patron of Save the Children UK, visited the charity's 'Mary's Living and Giving' shop in Wandsworth, as it celebrates 10 years since its opening.

The Princess Royal has paid a special visit to 'Mary's Living and Giving' shop in Wandsworth, where Her Royal Highness thanked volunteers and staff for their ongoing work to raise money for Save the Children.

Save the Children aims to help every child get the chance of a future they deserve. In more than 100 countries, including the UK, the charity works to ensure children stay safe, healthy and learning – finding new ways to reach children who need it most.

Save the Children has over 90 charity shops in total across the UK. 100% of the profits of items sold go directly to Save the Children’s work in the UK and around the world.

The charity’s Wandsworth shop branch has been running for 10 years and is operated by 35 volunteers. Over the past decade, the shop has raised over £1.2 million through sales for the charity’s work in the UK and around the world.

The Princess Royal first became President of Save the Children UK in 1970, before transitioning to the role of Patron in 2017.

Her Royal Highness has spent a significant amount of time visiting Save the Children projects in the UK and overseas, including places such as Uganda, Bangladesh, Sierra Leone, Mozambique, Bosnia and Herzegovina and most recently Sri Lanka, which she visited last month to commemorate 50 years of Save the Children operating in Sri Lanka.

[idiosyncrasy-thoughts]

Empathy - Yvette Short Story (Part 2)

Oh no, this is really bad.

I spectate in concern as Yvette picks herself up, the left side of her cheek swollen. Blood drips from her mouth and she quickly wipes it off. “Get her!” she commands, the demons obliging to her and darting towards Wrath.

“Three versus one, huh? You never like to play fair, Yvette.”

“The more the merrier.”

Wrath cracks her head as she changes into a defensive stance. When one of them comes close, the ringleader grabs his face and throws him towards Yvette. The green-haired girl curses and quickly moves to avoid the body missle.

As the other demon approaches Wrath, she grabs it by the throat, strangling it with frightening strength. The demon struggles, clawing at the bodybuilder’s arms to break free. She lifts it from the ground and glares hard at the demon, whose thrashes eventually come to a halt. Wrath then throws it aside like it’s nothing. The demon lands in a way that its face is towards me, and I watch in horror as its lifeless eyes bore into mine.

It will take a while before I get used to seeing demons dying in front of me.

“Heads up, MC,” shouts Wrath, who throws a pocketknife near me.

She then turns her attention back to Greed. “Enough games, Yvette. Face me personally.”

Yvette knits her eyebrows in irk and proceeds to hold the gem at the end of her staff. She then drags it out to reveal a shiny, sharp sword that seems like it can cut through even diamond. “The one that lives wins.”

And with that, the two sinners close the distance between them, sword and fists colliding with each other. The loud sound of metal grinding on metal rings in my ear as I cut through my rope with Wrath’s pocketknife.

When will these two stop? At this rate, one of them is going to be seriously hurt.

The rope around my wrists loosens and I release a breath of relief, taking a moment to rub my reddened wrists. I start slicing the rope around my knees and watch as the fight between the two grows intense.

Greed strikes her sword on Wrath over and over again, and the ringleader swiftly deflects them with her brass knuckles. “You think you’re so high and mighty, huh? Saving people from demons.”

The green-haired girl brutally slams her sword, causing Wrath to break her defensive stance and the blade to cut her shoulder. “But never forget. You killed people before.”

Wait, Wrath actually killed humans? I thought she only deals with demon-humans!

As Greed swings her sword up again, Wrath speedily boots her right in the gut, sending her to tumble on the ground.

A firm hand on her open wound, the ringleader glares at the green-haired lady who’s clutching her stomach.

“I did, didn’t I?” the ringleader asks, but it comes off more like a question to herself. Her solemn demeanour soon changes to an angry one. “I guess it doesn’t make a difference if I kill you now!”

Greed laughs breathlessly. “The truth’s finally out of you, Esperanza. Some leader you are, who wants to murder her comrade.”

“You had a choice to choose the right path, Yvette, but you strayed into the wrong one. Now you’ll pay the consequences of your actions.”

The green-haired girl proceeds to stab her sword into the sand, supporting herself up. She then plucks it out, wielding it like a knight who has fought in many wars. “We’ll see about that.”

The rope around my knees finally comes loose and I quickly approach the two. They are currently in a staredown, weapons on the ready.

“Wrath! Yvette! Please stop!”

“This is none of your business, MC. Stay out of it,” commands Wrath, whose narrowed eyes stay glued on Yvette.

“Yeah, listen to Wrath. She might accidentally kill you if you intervene.”

The ringleader growls and dashes towards the green-haired girl; pure hatred flushing on her face. When close enough, she pummels the other girl with her brass knuckles at lightning speed, trying to find an opening to land a hit. Yvette matches Wrath’s incredible speed, deflecting every deadly punch with her blade.

“You’re slowing down, Yvette,” Wrath taunts, quickening her hits and advancing her steps greatly. “Getting tired?”

“Not even a bit,” Yvette replies, but the sweat on her forehead betrays her words.

I know for a fact that Wrath has ridiculous stamina from all the training and fighting she’s been through; she can literally fight several demons without breaking a sweat.

Yvette, on the other hand, is putting on a brave exterior, unwilling to be defeated by her worst enemy.

My blood runs cold when Wrath manages to strike a blow that sends Greed’s sword to fly. She then punches the side of Yvette’s head; the heavy impact causing goosebumps to rise on my skin.

The green-haired girl stumbles on the ground with a roll. A trail of red follows her.

“Stop! That’s enough!” I dash towards Yvette, whose body is so still it frightens me. The sight of cuts, bruises and blood on her makes me cringe in empathy, and my heart is suddenly overwhelmed with a need to protect her.

I turn to face the ringleader who is approaching me. “Move aside, MC.”

I flail my arms out defensively. “I will not let you kill her!”

She shoots me a disbelief look, and it quickly contorts into anger. “Why are you protecting her? She has done nothing but bad deeds.”

“We’re all sinners, we do bad deeds. But that isn’t an excuse to kill!”

“You have no idea how cunning she is. How much suffering she has put others through.” The ringleader huffs, shaking her head. “I don’t want to have to force you to move. So step aside now.”

“Wrath, she might be your enemy now but she used to be your friend! Don’t you have any mercy? She’s still hu-”

“She’ll never be worthy of my friendship and she’s not human. She’s a fucking traitor and a demon!” Wrath lashes out, but her anger soon dissipates when an arm hooks around my shoulder.

“The heirloom,” demands Yvette, who hovers her bare hand near my throat. “Or she dies.”

What the fuck?! Oh wait, I did want this to happen. Please give her the charm Wrath please give her the charm!

Wrath shows a disapproving look before reaching into her pocket and pulling out the charm. “We swap at the same time.”

Yvette lightly pushes me to Wrath when the charm reaches her gloved hand. I watch as she observes the ancient artifact on her palm, a look of victory on her expression. She whispers a “finally” to herself and curls her fingers on it.

Instead of disappearing like I have expected, Yvette lingers behind. Her eyes meet mine in a way that makes my heart accelerate, and her expression seems to display both gratitude and…regret?

“Well, why are you still standing here for?” Wrath breaks the silence and my moment with Yvette. “Get lost before I change my mind!”

A hint of desperation flashes across Yvette’s face as she maintains eye contact with me. It seems like she wants to say something but is hesitating.

“Go,” I mouth to Yvette, not wanting another fight to spike up again.

She sighs softly.

Shutting her eyes, she disappears, leaving just the scent of her perfume behind.

May our paths cross again, Yvette.

Part 1 | Part 3

[giggleandtears]

Crimson Renegade, Part 2

Look into your eyes (I’m drownin’ in em)

Summary: The newest transfer sees her new quarters and has a long awaited meeting

Pairings: OC/Jim Kirk(Platonic), OC/Leonard McCoy(Eventual Romance)

Enjoy!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“We can argue that point later but in the spirit of friendship, what will it take for you to put this minor miscalculation behind us?” I say, using my most innocent of voices.  

“You mean what will it take for me to forget you tried to manipulate me into getting your way?”

I mumble a nearly indiscernible ‘yes’ before snapping to attention, staring Jim squarely in the eye.  

“Wait a minute! Why do you get to take the high ground? Don’t act like you haven’t whipped out those baby blues on me to get me to do your bidding.”

“To get a phone number or a free drink, not get out of a mandated physical.”

“Says the man, sorry, Captain, that’s run from every hypo since birth.”

Jim’s piercing gaze volleys back and forth, as if the air itself would supply a worthy retort. His quick wit momentarily slows to a halt until a mischievous simper appears.  

“So Danny, why do you need exclusive use of hold 626-E again?"

All joking aside, my eyes are sharper than Jim’s jawline. “You wouldn’t?”

“Try me.” Leaning forward over my shoulder, Jim stage whispers in my ear. “You know you’re not getting out of this, right?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I let out a sigh.

I did bring this on myself

“What do you want?”

“You know there’s only one thing I want, Gem.”

“First, you know how I feel about you calling me Gem.” Jim’s devilish grin widens but with a nod he relents. “How long am I to be at your mercy Oh captain, my captain?”

“I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement.”

“That's what I'm afraid of.”

In the corner of my eye, Spock’s face is a vision of pure Vulcan horror, if we can call it that. The speed in which he’s quantifying our non-verbal cues to discern the level of misconduct he is witnessing is dizzying and rather funny. Spock could teach a master class on body language akin to psychotherapist. However, the shrewd Second in Command is, as always, at a loss as to the emotion behind them.  In all likelihood Jim did in fact just proposition me and I reluctantly accepted. But that has never been the type of relationship Jim and I have ever had. How could our fearless leader, not poke the Vulcan teddy bear when he’s so flagrantly missing something.

“Don’t worry Spock. It’s completely consensual.”

“I was not aware the nature of your relationship had changed in the interim of our last meeting.” Spock says, in his cool timbre. 

“Hey, cool it Casanova.” I say, directed at Kirk. Stepping off the lift, I try to clarify the situation for my ever-processing Vulcan friend.  “Spock, Jim wants to take Artemis for a ride, not me.” Jim quietly snorts as we make our way down the corridor. Spock is none the wiser. If only Vulcan humor included double entendre. “And to answer your question, that you didn’t quite get to finish asking, I can get the sample for you after my physical or Scotty can. He has security clearance to access Artemis as well.”

“Thank you. That will be most useful.” Jim keys in the generic code to my new quarters and steps through but Spock remains rooted to his spot. Placing his hands behind him, Spock patiently stands, awaiting my attention. “Commander,” he says after a pause. “I am never one to question your abilities. Your skill as an engineer and subsequently a pilot is well documented. However, was it necessary to disregard my transmission before it was completed?”

“I think I heard a compliment in there somewhere but we’ll unpack that later.” I say with a smile.  “But, if I had allowed you to continue, am I correct in assuming that you were going to express concern for my life?”

“That is an affirmative.”

Taking a moment, I think of what was going through my mind in the split second I chose to execute my plan. In truth, not much. Yes, I deliberately chose to proceed before hearing the consistently sage words of my comrade. But I had the means to keep my weakened crew safe. They could escape due to my actions. How could I not act with the utmost decisiveness?  

“In this instance I refer you to the words of a very wise man, ‘The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few, or in this case, the one’.”  

Almost instantly, Spock’s brow quirks in what I believe is appreciation. With a smooth nod he utters a simple reply. “Understood.” No further logic needed.  

Returning his attention back to the opened door, Jim hands back the PADD to Spock’s out-stretched hand.  

“Thank you, Mr. Spock. Keep me apprised of the repairs.”

Bowing one last time, Spock turns and leaves at Jim’s polite dismissal.

Stepping away from the door, Jim gestures me inside like a smartly dressed doorman before following behind me. Dropping my bag, I’m astounded at the quarters I’ve been assigned. The pristine grey and white surfaces make the space seem all the grander, in size and amenities.  

“Um, Jim? How are these my quarters?”

“Perks of being a commander.”

Pockets of light splayed around the room set an uncharacteristically cozy atmosphere. The illuminations warmer tinge mimics that of a candle alight, sans the continuous flicker. That small, seemingly insignificant detail, betrays the common star ship adage, ‘efficiency before comfort’.  

“I’ve been a commander for 4 years and my quarters have never been this-” I trail off in awe as I begin to take in more of the details that surround me.  

A small kitchenette sits on the far-right wall, a gleaming replicator at the ready. Trills of excitement run through me at the sight of a small French press on the counter. I can already smell the heady aroma of my first cup of coffee. In the corner, along the same wall, is a doorway of what I believe is the bathroom. Situated in the middle of the room, is a modest entertaining area, fit with a round coffee table and love seat. The darker grey fabric is soft to the touch but undoubtedly durable.  

“Is Spock’s room this big?”

“Let’s just say we won’t be having game night in here.” Jim says, with the utmost diplomacy.  

“Good to know.”

Only a small space separates the back of the couch and the bed. And what a bed it is. Two people, if not three, could easily rest inside its plush borders. Why my mind decides that’s an adequate number, desirable even, I haven’t a clue. Shaking that thought away, I notice more of the small touches unique to the Enterprise.  

A thin strip of light wraps around the bed where the base and mattress meet. Efficient if emergency lighting is ever needed but will also combat the horrid stubbed toe when nature calls in the middle of the night. But suddenly, I’m drawn to the window in front of me. Beyond it is the clearest view of a nebula I've ever seen. Did my head get knocked around more than I thought? Because I swear, I can see individual particulates swirling. Reaching out, I place my hand against the glass. Oddly, its warm against my palm, not cold as you’d expect from something that touches the frigid harshness of space.  

“I knew you’d like that.” Jim says warmly, coming to stand beside me. “Who needs a telescope when you have one of these?” I retract my hand as my brow raises in silent question. Jim just chuckles. “Computer, on.” At once, the “window” comes to life and re-centers on a particular area of the nebula. Scrolling data on the right of the screen details all the atmospheric levels found there. “Now you can explore without ever leaving your room or if you want, your bed.” Jim enlarges a small section of the screen. The seemingly devoid area erupts into various embedded hot stars as it expands on the display, all possibly never seen by the human eye.  

“Jim, this is amazing. Truly.”  I say, meeting his eyes in a glassy side-long glance.

Jim rocks on his heels, hands tucked in his pockets. The corner of his mouth ticks up in a soft smile.  

“After everything you’ve been through,” Jim starts in a hushed tone, “who knew a simple planetary magnification display would be the thing to make you cry.”

A watery chuckle escapes me as Jim bumps my shoulder against his own.  

“We both know there’s nothing simple about this.”

Such sophisticated long-range tech is relegated to what is commanded by the Bridge or specialty items designed specifically for a project. It is most certainly not used for a personal window display of a curious commander.  

“I know, but I think it’s about time we gave a little back. Don’t you?”

“We?” I ask, not fully understanding why the lavish comforts I’ve been credited now originates from a plural body of unknown origin.  

“The Federation. Starfleet. Your crew.” Jim states simply, with a nonchalant shrug.  

I’m not exactly sure if I deserve this level of hospitality and universal concern but I nod at the underlying sentiment of displaying gratitude to those that have served honorably.  

“Why don’t you go change and I'll meet you in Medbay. I need to check in with the bridge.”

I raise my hand in a dramatic mock salute. “Aye, aye Captain.”

Jim smiles in rueful admiration while shaking his head then turns to leave. Before he reaches the door, I call out to him. Facing him fully, I try find the words to adequately express my immense thanks. It’s not just about today but that he’s been championing me even while I was earth-side and he’s light-years away. Without the barrier of space or hologram display, my well-prepared thank-you-for-your-friendship speech dries on my tongue.  

With that bright grin of his, Jim senses the cause of my frustration and lets me off the hook.  

“Anytime, Danny.”  

After Jim leaves me to my own devices, I grab my bag and head to the bathroom to freshen up. Stripping off my jumpsuit, I step into the shower. I'm surprised to see there are two control panels.  

Sonic capabilities and real water. Now I’m just being spoiled.

I choose a sonic for its expediency and in short order I’m ready to pull on a new uniform. The uniform in my bag is perfectly suitable but it isn’t needed. Hanging by the shower is a fresh uniform, newly pressed. Lifting it to the light, a small white tag dangles in my view. It reads, ‘Welcome to the Enterprise’ in neat type. A warmth spreads throughout my chest as I shimmy into my crimson and black ensemble. Taming my bounteous curls takes longer than expected but eventually its slicked back in a neat bun. Admiring myself in the mirror display, I finally look like a proper commander.  

Leaving my quarters behind, I make my way to the Medbay. A soft burst of air brushes against my face as the doors automatically open at my approach. Blindly surveying the open space, every cataloged item is meticulously placed. The CMO must run a tight ship. You'd never know 11 patients came and went in less than an hour. Actually, make that 10 patients. A doctor, clad in science blue, leans over the only occupied bed. I'm sure, if he were to shift towards me, his medical insignia would be clearly visible. Ever so gently, he runs the dermal regenerator over the brow of his patient.  

Cocking his head to the side, he finally acknowledges my presence with a quick glance in my direction. I assume by the angle that he’s sitting, he’s only able to verify that there is in fact a person standing in his vicinity and the color of my uniform. Not bothering to break his concentration from his patient or call a nurse, the dark-haired doctor proceeds to inquire about my current physical condition.

“Cut, burn or concussion?” He says, with a weighty sigh.

“Excuse me?” I ask, coming closer.  

“Did you get cut, burned or whacked in the head?”

“None of the above, although you didn’t say anything about palpations, fever, or hives?” I add with blatant sarcasm. “Don’t mind me. I’ll be quietly dying in the corner over there.”

I hear a soft snort from the lounging figure on the Bio-bed before turning away to meander around. I wish I could see the doctor’s whole expression but the tightening of his jaw will have to do. Dark hair, probably an impressive scowl and distinct southern drawl. Why is that combination so familiar? Wait, did I just meet-

“Bones!” Jim bellows, as he walks into the Medbay.  

“Dang-it man, must you yell every time!”  

“I voluntarily came to Medbay. I thought you’d be happy.” Jim challenges, with a smirk.

Dr. McCoy straightens an imaginary crook in his neck with an audible growl, and continues his work.

I’ve heard quite a lot about the good doctor. Such as his snark and quick wit, lover of all things sweet and covered in honey, and his unlucky (his words) position as Jim’s best friend. But my favorite is his petulance for hating the color red and all the problems that shroud it in infamy, much like the ensign he just dismissed.  

“You’re all done, kid.” McCoy says, stripping off his gloves with a sharp pop. “Next time, try not runnin’ full speed into hangin’ debris would’ya?” McCoy stands and shoos his patient off the bed.

“Yes, doctor.” The young ensign says. He only pauses a moment to acknowledge Jim, quickly muttering ‘Captain’, before scurrying out the door.

It doesn’t escape my notice that unlike the newly healed ensign, Dr. McCoy is completely ignoring Jim and is in no rush to rectify it. Picking up the PADD clipped at the end of the bed, he scrolls and intermittently taps on the screen. Glancing up, his Jim sized problem has yet to disappear.

“What do you want Jim? I have a Medbay to run.” McCoy says, pinching the bridge of his nose after placing the PADD back in its place with a clatter.  

“Aw come on Bones. We live to explore another day and besides, I have a surprise for you.” Jim says jovially, clapping McCoy on the shoulder.  

“How ’bout you keep that to yourself. Your surprises tend to leave my antibiotic ointment supply low and my nurses skittish.”  

Now it’s my turn to snort into my hand. That’s all the confirmation I need that Jim is still, very much, still Jim. Somehow that’s both a comfort and deeply unsettling.  

“I just wanted to know if our latest transfer came by yet.” Jim says. Shifting his stance to the side, he meets my eyes expectantly. With McCoy’s back to me, he has no idea the new transfer is waiting patiently behind him to introduce herself.

Jim has wanted me to meet McCoy for quite some time. He often said his chosen drinking crew was in need of new blood, better bourbon and definitely new stories. He may have added something about thinking I was the best person to properly distract McCoy when he got in a mood. After threatening Jim with a hypo concoction that would leave him very excited and pitifully flaccid, he never brought that particular distraction up again.  

McCoy and I have had a few chances to meet over the years but something has always gotten in the way-class schedules, injuries, being in a completely different star system. You name it. Even in this short interaction between Jim and McCoy, I can already see I’ve been deeply deprived.  

“No, and why am I just seein’ him now. He should have been in here months ago.” McCoy says in exasperation, throwing his hands up. “No tellin’ what he’s been spreadin’ around.”  

“I assure you I haven’t been spreadin’ anything around,” I say, pulling the attention of both men. “We can confirm that whenever you’d like.

Walking towards them, McCoy’s gaze follows me from the tips of my toes until he finally meets my eyes. He keeps his composure far better than most men I’ve met but his eyes still round in surprise. My height usually has that effect. We meet men, women, and all those that fall in between. They vary in color, creed, planetary origin and corporeal state or lack thereof. The permutations are unfathomable and from youth onward, we’ve been taught not bat an eye. But a woman that can look you in the eye is still shocking. Coming closer, McCoy stands the tiniest bit straighter.  

“But no rush. I just hitched a ride on four starships, tracked you here using virtually scraps of data, and drained my ship in a battle protecting you. But please, take your time.” I relax my hip against a cabinet and twirl some sort of metal apparatus I picked up from the counter around my finger. Facing me head on, McCoy crosses his arms as he stares me down. I don’t think he likes the notion of anyone presuming to put him on their timetable.  

“Wait, that was you doin’ all that fancy flying?” He asks me incredulously.

“Is that your version of a thank you? Oh, I forgot. Unless an engineer is under your watchful eye, we pose an imminent threat to ourselves but most importantly, your sanity.”

McCoy next words halt as his mouth hangs slightly agape. A rapid flutter of confusion passes over his eyes as his lips purse in contemplation.  

“You’ll have to excuse me but, have we met?” McCoy finally says.  

“Not officially. I'm just the red that was slowly dying from an arrhythmia, pyrexia, and anaphylaxis.”  

McCoy’s eyes begin to narrow in what I can only guess is his favorite go-to glare and I nibble the inside of my cheek to keep my burgeoning smile at bay. Flicking my eyes to Jim, his smirk has grown into a knowing cheshire grin. He’s thoroughly enjoying the volley between McCoy and I. Honestly, so am I.

“You also may have heard about me from a mutual friend.” I continue.  

Jim has never squandered an opportunity to regale me with the many shenanigans he’s dragged McCoy into. More often than not, he whines about how McCoy takes sick pleasure in smothering every idea he has in common sense before he can fan it into a career defining romp. It’s astounding how easily Jim shrugs off the irony of that statement. Sadly, I think McCoy fails far more than he succeeds. So, I have no doubt Jim’s spoken of our previous escapades as well.

Laying the metal thing-a-ma-bob back down, I extend my hand toward McCoy. “Commander Gemma Danvers. Nice to meet you.”

Flashing a devastatingly handsome crooked smile, McCoy grasps my proffered hand with a soft pressure. “Pleasures all mine.” Gentle creases line his eyes from finally putting a face with the name. “Leonard McCoy.”  He says, introducing himself. “But somethin’ tells me you already knew that.”  

Hmm, where did Lieutenant Grumpy Pants go?

My own smile grows wider in response. “And you’d be correct.” McCoy’s warm gaze draws me in further. I should feel awkward that our joined hands are still slowly moving in unison but watching such a bewitching shade a green has left my senses muted to anything else. After McCoy releases my hand, I quickly clasp them behind my back and take a minuscule step back. Time to get down to business. “So, do you have time for a physical?”

“Always.” McCoy says, without hesitation.  

[zippdementia]

Part 82 Alignment May Vary: Mirrors of the Abyss (Don’t Wake the DemiLich!)

The next part of our adventure is taken from Mirrors of the Abyss, by Ryan Durney. I highly recommend it as a rare high level adventure. Very much worth a purchase. I will be covering huge aspects of it and it will not be spoiler-free, though it is a random enough adventure that there is PLENTY we won’t see on this playthrough and some additional material for our own story. Much of the art in this blog is taken directly from the module and is illustrated by Ryan Durney. The purpose in using it here is to show off how beautiful and professional the product is, not to claim such images as our own. I sincerely hope it inspires you to purchase the product!

Entering the Maze

Imoaza uses a ritual she finds in the Librarian’s book to enter a specialized maze built specifically for her out of her memories and controlled, in part, by her emotions. Here Imoaza needs to find Hecate, who holds one half of the key to the exit.

Imoaza’s journey begins back in her old caves, where Carrick and Aldric met her so long ago. She is temporarily forgetful of her task, thinking she is back in that time, as well as place. But her magic isn’t fully working, which is unusual, and she has the crown of stars upon her head from the spell she cast in the Marilith fight (also unusual, because she did not know that spell back in that time). These clues eventually give her reason to remember her cause: find Hecate. So she proceeds deeper into the tunnels, where her instincts tell her Hecate is hiding.

She encounters a fire-breathing minotaur in the caves, but confounds it by running into a side tunnel and collapsing it behind her when it gives chase. But this leads her to an impasse.

Imoaza stared at the pit in front of her. It was wide, impassable, and seemingly bottomless. She couldn’t go back, not now, and the way forward was non-existent. Her frustration built up inside of her, and as it did, the chasm beneath her filled with a red hot glow...

Imoaza not only becomes frustrated, she feels despair and the desire to give up. This leads to the platform crumbling underneath her and she falls... but is caught by Hecate from the entrance to another cave. Hecate pulls her to safety and then holds up her hands.

“I have a question for you, mother. If you make it back to Faerun, what will you do next? Will you build the Yuan-Ti empire again, ensure it is the greatest of all empires, and secure our rightful place as rulers of the world?”

Hecate has decided that she is tired of fighting Imoaza. Having been defeated time and again, she now believes Imoaza is the greatest Yuan Ti to ever live, and one with the power to restore their lost dominion over mankind. But Imoaza is no longer certain of this goal: her time with Carrick and the others has created a doubt of her own pride.

“We would have to avoid our previous errors,” she says. “We cannot build an empire on hubris.”

“Hubris?” Hecate hisses. “Is it hubris for the strong to rule the weak?”

Again, Imoaza is not as sure of herself as she once was. So she hesitates, while Blackrazor hoarsely whispers at Hecate’s side, “what are you waiting for?! Strike her down!”

Finally Imoaza says, “I want an empire to last. And it cannot do that alone. There is much to be gained from working with the other races.”

Hecate does not like this. At this point, I decide a Charisma check is in order, to decide where Hecate lies, because she is torn to loyalty to the one who has proven her strength and a concern that Imoaza has grown weak in the presence of humans. We roll. Imoaza has a +5 to Charisma. Hecate at the time I think has a +5 (I find out later it’s a +3, oops!) and this makes the roll very exciting: Hecate rolls an 18 and Imoaza a 19. It also gives me something to interpret as far as Hecate’s mood: she decides to go along with Imoaza for now, giving her the benefit of the doubt, but openly states she reserves the right to challenge Imoaza if she does not have the Yuan-Ti interests in mind.

“Everything I’ve ever done I’ve done for my people,” Imoaza says. “For OUR people.”

“Well, I’m friggin’ done with you pussies!” Blackrazor’s hoarse voice cuts sharply across the chill air. “Done with mopers, posers, and kids with mommy issues. I’m going to go find someone worthy of wielding my power!”

And with that, the blade leaps from Hecate’s hip, cuts a rip in the air and dives through, gone from the campaign... for now.

Hecate and Imoaza continue down the tunnel for a time, Hecate explaining that she has a torn page in her possession, a page which contains half of a ritual to escape the Library chamber. It is the half of the key! The other half must be the rest of the spell.

The tunnel ends abruptly with a sudden change: the two Yuan Ti find themselves in a dwarven ruin, facing a beardless dwarf who is sweating over a forge. He wipes his brow and looks at them.

“Just in time!” he says. “Do you have the sword? Aldric’s sword, I mean. Where is he?”

Hecate and Imoaza look at each other. “Er... no,” Imoaza says. “Aldric is... not here. And the sword is gone, too.”

“What? Did he redeem it? He did redeem it, right?”

“Uh, no, not exactly. The sword left--”

“Left? What did it say? Did it SAY anything?”

“It said it was going to find its master,” Hecate answers.

The dwarf hangs his head. “Then all is lost.”

And with that, the tunnels disappear and Imoaza finds herself back in the Library, with Hecate at her side. She spots her companions, but something is missing...

And They All Fall Down...

While Imoaza has been searching for Hecate inside the specialized maze spell, the rest of the party is searching the library for clues on how to escape. Carrick and Remus check out an exhibit to lichdom that they feel might hold the key: it is an altar to a very unusual demilich, holding his skull and a number of gemstones that are supposed to activate him, but which Esheballa never had any luck with.

A‘DO NOT TOUCH: Actual Demilich,’  The skull is said to be not that of Acererak, but of one ‘Aelyx Illmaeric’ [Aye-lix Illmare-ik] a power-mad, black-hearted sea-faring pirate-necromancer, who achieved Lich status and followed Acererak’s template to demilich. Unlike Acererak, Aelyx was braggadocios about all of his dark exploits, hiding in open sight, and keeping meticulous ledgers about his kills, methods and experiences.  Aelyx recognized the need and the uses for souls and that the building of a dungeon capable of grinding adventurers was tantamount to maintaining power, post-mortem. His ‘Tomb of Horrors’  was a hulking ship, ported against an undersea entrance to his tomb.  He wrote that the surrounding waters were ‘dark and grim with the thousands of drownings of those trying to gain entrance.’” At the end of the plaque, Eshebala's script continues: “One of Aelyx’s loudest and least believable boasts was that he kept a blade that could kill any god ‘in one good stab of where its heart should beat!’ I am still seeking the phylactery and the eyes of this demilich skull of Aelyx Illmaeric, as I have many questions for him.”

Daymos is hailed by a Quasit, whom he names Whisper, and who basically falls in love with him, considering him a FIRE GOD after she saw what he did to the other Quasits. Whisper wears the burnt remains of her maid outfit and the player decides she is a female, in an uncomfortable conversation about whether or not Quasits have genitalia based on their image in the Monster Manual. Sounds like a good conversation for a later Bestiary episode...

Daymos also finds an ancient cursed spellbook, which destroys his own spellbook and boosts his spell power prodigiously. But there are some consequences, which will make themselves known in time...

More immediate consequences are had when Milosh discovers a strange scarecrow doll on the third floor, which is able to communicate through Daymos’ telepathy. The doll tells them that he is a lost soul who can return to life if only they can find his mother’s gem. He describes it and this matches one of the gems in the Aelyx exhibit.

Well, the party kinda immediately gets suspicious. This has to be the demi-lich, right? The doll denies it when they confront him, but the party is pretty sure they are right. Still, this might be the key to leaving so they prepare themselves and give the doll the eye. “Hey, so if you are a demilich, just remember this good turn we are doing for you and help us get out of this chamber,” Daymos says, as the doll grins and shoves the gemstone into the eye socket of the skull...

... and transports all of them to a pocket dimension, filled with the aether of creation. Aelyx stands before them, restored to his former skeletal self, wielding a long dagger and wearing two crowns, one set inside the other: a gold one and a silver one. His one eye, made of the sea-blue gem that was placed there, glints in a light that seems to come from nowhere but shins down on him like a spotlight.

“She was trying the wrong eye,” he explains in a flamboyent and jubilant voice. “I lost my LEFT eye to the damnable fishmen, not my RIGHT eye.”

The players look around and see they are standing on a gangplank, floating in this abyss of nothingness.

“You said to take you out of that chamber,” Aelyx says. “I have done so. Now you can do a favor for me... sacrifice your souls to me, so that I may regain my strength and rebuild my tomb of horrors!”

This fight is a tough one. Everyone is on a 60x10 ft platform, facing down Aelyx. Aelyx isn’t the strongest lich, like he doesn’t have access to any lich spells, but he uses legendary actions to attack after everyone’s turn (well, up to three times a round) and on his own turn can attack with his devastating dagger, which has a +25 to damage! The legendary actions do one of two things: either he grabs at the nearest player and drains them of their life and exhausts them (hoping to eventually suck their soul inside his gemstone eye), or he blasts them with a specialized magic missile, which does a ton of damage and tries to shove them off the platform.

Carrick and Remus rush Aelyx (”This is bad,” Carrick’s player says, “I’m rushing a demilich.”) Shortly after, the party quickly realizes that Aelyx is too strong for them. Daymos feels the most safe, with his ability to turn into a psychic thought form and float around. But this won’t help him survive a direct onslaught: he only has 50 health, after all. He immediately sends Whisper (his new familiar) to frighten Aelyx, but as the Quasit makes scary faces at the Lich, Aelyx simply bats it aside, not caring. Meanwhile, Milosh does some quick thinking, so quick that I actually have to pause the game for a second to figure out how to handle it.

Aelyx was opening his mouth to deliver another speech when Milosh aimed his gunarm and fire a grappling hook directly at the lich’s chest. It struck and Aelyx looked down, bemused.

“And what is the purpose of this intrusion on my personal space?” he asked.

Milosh answered by leaping off the platform, his 400 pounds of weight quickly pulling Aelyx with him. Aelyx reached out and clutched Carrick, his hand turning to solid gold around the Paladin’s collar. With the two of them holding on, and Aelyx’s magical strength, Milosh’ weight could barely be held, but they were slipping towards the edge...

It’s a really cool move by Milosh! And it’s set us up for a crazy situation. The problem is Aelyx’s grip on Carrick: it is sapping his life quickly! Carrick goes unconscious and without his added strength, Aelyx topples over the edge, dragging Carrick with him. Remus rushes to the edge of the gangplank and, saying a prayer to his goddess, throws himself off, catching Carrick mid air and transferring a cure spell into him.

“Carrick... live!” Remus says, and then falls into the abyss, gone. And through his unconsciousness, Carrick hears him.

Carrick opens his eyes and sees first the crazed skeletal grin of Aelyx as the lich tightens his grip on his collar. Milosh is beneath them both, his weight dragging them down towards the abyssal storm which will tear them apart and end the threat of the Lich. Carrick sees Milosh looking up at the gangplank and realizes he intends to Misty Step back to it, leaving the Lich to his fate. But he can’t, or won’t, because Carrick is held in the Lich’s grip. At that moment, Milosh shifts his gaze and sees Carrick, the man he considers the Surveyor and his creator, looking at him.

“It’s okay,” Carrick says. “Let go.” It is a gentle voice, but it is also a command. And Milosh obeys his creator.

Milosh appears back on the gangplank and immediately spins around to fire his grappling hook and catch Carrick. But Carrick is already gone.

There is a bright flash and Milosh and Daymos (and his quasit familiar, Whisper) appear back in the library. This time, Imoaza is there, too, and Hecate. But Milosh can barely process Hecate’s unexpected appearance.

“Where is Carrick?” Imoaza asks. Milosh tries to answer, starting with his characteristic “Ah!” but before he can get a full sentence out, he turns away and his body shakes and he can speak no more.

Concluding the Library

The remainder of the library is really just clean up work. This was a long chamber, partially because I added the maze element and partially because they fought the Demi-Lich Aelyx. Also, though, the end of the library is a lot of rolls involving searching the library for the proper book. The rolls lead to a lot of different books in the library and each is very interesting but also very involved. Some are entire books, like the Necronomicon, excerpts of which are lovingly created as beautiful handouts at the end of Mirrors and full of pentagrams and secret spells (and hidden dangers, oh so many hidden dangers). These are like entire games unto themselves and I don’t want to overwhelm my players. Since we are using Mirrors as a bridge to the rest of our campaign, I don’t want to drift too far from our story beats. So I cut this back a bit: the players know enough about what they are looking for that as long as they pass their Intelligence based search checks, they will find the book leading them out. But I am also open to them finding some other things along the way, which we roll randomly. They find some interesting things, like the aforementioned Necronomicon (but Imoaza doesn’t open it) and a list of some secrets, including a hint to follow a fossil wall. Meanwhile, Hecate grabs a number of the gems that were used to try and activate Aelyx, including a beautiful ruby one that will become important later on...

Long story short, the players find the spell needed to make the portal out of here appear, but they also find a spell to affect this portal so that they get brief impressions of every other chamber and get to choose where they want to go. They choose a Sea Temple, hoping to find a place to rest, and they leap through the portal, ending up on a windswept and lonely wasteland of a beach, with huge waves crashing against a nearby sea wall covered in gigantic fossils.

Milosh still seems stunned as they arrive. In fact, his mind is reeling from a number of revelations that rushed upon him while he was trying to comprehend Carrick’s death. While the others searched for a way out of the library, Milosh went deep inside his own mind and there found memories he didn’t know he had. Memories of being on a distant planet, in a different body, with a different Surveyor offering him a chance to become something great, something more than he was, but something that would change his life forever. Darkness then, and a new body, one that can survive space and time and the dangers of his mission.

And then he remembers what he has been trying to all along. Next time, we’ll reveal what that is, on To Sea What They Could Sea.

But before we get to that, one last thing happens... far away, on the planet of Faerun, in a temple once built by the Yuan Ti, in a forgotten capsule, Carrick opens his eyes, then takes a deep breath as his capsule opens and he steps out, back on his home, but in a new body: the body of the true final surveyor.