Late afternoon on the twenty seventh, Dhann is prepared, as far as any can tell, for the impending meeting with Lady Seraphina Trentte. His armor has been meticulously cleaned, his vestments are orderly, and Stout's leathers are buffed oiled to a pleasant shine. The Cleric is still somewhat quieter than usual but not heavily so. He'd asked Elyana earlier if she wouldn't mind teleporting everyone from Trollskull to the bunker, to which the Warlock generously agreed.

With her spell, it's a quick fade from floor to ceiling-made-floor, then a jump to land right side up on one's feet again. Still not quite used to such a transition, Stout rolls in the air with a few decidedly confused flaps before managing to recover some semblance of dignity to clutch onto Dhann's shoulder. It's still a little early for the meeting, but Dhann has hoped to arrive first. He heads toward the mirror gallery.

After a time, Dhann finds himself staring at the mirrors. His reflection is shown in each interesting scene. The bedroom at Blackwood Manor is now clearly recognizable as Ander's bedroom. Dhann suddenly remembers the mirror on the wall opposite Ander's hiding place and wonders if that is the connection. 

As he continues to stare, one particular mirror catches his attention. The scene inside could be nearly anywhere but its beauty is striking. It is a woodland scene that exudes the sense of tranquility and natural beauty common to such places. Towering trees dominate the image, their branches reaching skyward. The forest floor below is a lush carpet of wildflowers, ferns, and moss, their vibrant colors contrasting against the earthy tones of the tree trunks and undergrowth.

Sunlight filters through the dense canopy above, casting dappled shadows that almost hide some of the small details in the image: a pair of butterflies flitting amongst the flowers, a family of deer grazing in a small, sunlit clearing in the background, and small flock of birds foraging for insects or seeds on the forest floor.

But finally, Dhann notices why this has drawn his attention. It is not unlike the scene in Ander’s hiding place. There is no barn or archway. But the hillsides and trees are similar. The longer Dhann stares, the more striking it becomes. It was nearly impossible to see the similarities while looking at Ander’s version, but now, it is nearly impossible to miss them.

After a few moments more of staring, Dhann is taken aback by the image of a woman in the mirror. He glances behind him to see if it is a reflection. She is not there. She appears to be striding toward him inside the mirror. 

The woman is younger-looking, mid-twenties in human years. She has a bright face and long elven ears. Her clothing is fine but not ostentatious and mostly features the green and brown themes common to woodland elves. 

The woman’s beauty is striking but not particularly uncommon for the elvish. As she gets closer, however, her blue eyes come into view as she pauses for a moment.

The scenery, now that he can see it, is blatantly obvious in its familiarity from the little viewing cubby in Ander's room. Somehow from the same vantage point, yet opposite, allowing for the presence of more flora, animals, and an overall tranquility present in the mirror-reality that the cubby either couldn't hold, or had at one point, held.

As the woman stops, Dhann finds himself pausing as well, holding his breath slightly. He takes a careful step back from the mirror just in case this woman - regardless of whether or not she's Seraphina - is able to and. decides to move through the mirror into the gallery proper.

It's an odd thing, looking into a mirror and seeing oneself but not when turning around to look. Dhann doesn't make any attempt to speak at the mirror or person, but can't help looking at those striking eyes and wondering, as Ely and Barrett had when they'd stepped through the back wall, if this Elf can see him just as clearly as he can see her.

As Dhann steps back to make room, the elven woman draws a small dagger from her within her robes. She reaches down and pricks her thumb with its point. She extends her hand upward and then seems to comfortably and casually pass into the space that Dhann had previously occupied. Her passage seems calm and familiar. As she does, her green robes turn to blue and Dhann watches her skin wrinkle and age. Her shoulders bend forward and she becomes an old woman to Dhann's eyes. Her eyes though, the crystalline blue color of her eyes, of Ander's eyes, remains.

"Hello. It is a pleasure to meet you all finally. I am Seraphina Trentte. And I am at your service." The woman bows gracefully to Dhann and the others.

Dhann knows it's probably striking as terribly rude, but for a beat he can only stare at someone that he's merely seen as ink, as a name written in the hands of the Blackwood family, with an accompanying rumor of being most likely dead. He then properly gathers his manners, returning Seraphina's bow with a respectful one of his own.

"It's an honor," he replies, straightening. And then gesturing politely at his friends, "Z, Elyana, and accompanying us is Tilly. And myself, Dhann." He places a hand on his chest and looks back at the Elven woman. "Although I think you may know something of us, already."

"Thank you for coming. I'm grateful to meet face to face, although I wish it were under lighter circumstances. There's...saying there's much to talk of would be an understatement."

"Indeed." She looks around the small room with a certain level of distaste. "You know, I know he was supposed to save us all from a dark fate but he never did manage to clean up behind himself. Boys, I suppose. I need to visit the Arcanexus there," she gestures to the mirror that leads to the lab. "And then would you be interested in finding somewhere a bit more comfortable to talk?"

He stops himself from blinking at her brusqueness - or maybe it's the familiarity in the color of those eyes that catches the Cleric off guard - as he steps another pace back to give a bit more berth, should Seraphina need it.

"Somewhere a bit more comfortable would do us well, I think. I understand Blackstaff Tower isn't a favorable option, so if there's a place you prefer...?"

"If you don't mind, I'd like to escort you all to the Whispering Grove." She gestures to the mirror from which she passed. "We will be safe there and unbothered by observers or interruptions. A word of caution, though: it is very well protected. There are very few methods to send communications to or from the grove. If this makes you uncomfortable, we could find a more ... neutral location. However, I suspect there will be things you'd like to see, not the least of which, I assume, is the operation of the Silent Vein, or parts of it at least."

"Also, I recognize all of you from Ander's descriptions and from other tales. Except this one, my long-eared friend. Tilly, was it? As we move along, I'd like to know a little more about your role in all this. But for now, is the Silent Grove acceptable to you all?"

“I think as secure a place to speak as possible, would be a blessing,” Dhann replies, looking to each of his companions for their opinion. “I have no objections, but we’re…connected to Maran at present and so I’d like to tell him we’ll be leaving this space for another. If he can’t sense us, I don’t want to cause him undue worry if I can help it.” He acknowledges Seraphina’s assumptions with a somber nod. “I think there’s much to see, and discuss, on both sides.”

Dhann pauses then, and within the Trollmates’ and the middle Blackwood’s minds, they hear:

”Maran, we’re with Seraphina. We’re going through the Whispering Grove’s mirror to talk. Should the rings not reach, we’ll message as soon as we’re back.”

Maran’s voice answers, "Do be careful and sincere hopes you unravel some mysteries."

Tilly starts at the sound of Ander's name coming from Seraphina's lips. This place...these mirrors...that teleportation circle...he's very lost about exactly where his new friends have taken him, but with the mention of Ander, he is able to piece together they are possibly in the place where Ander did his crafting. Renaer had mentioned that Ander had a "warehouse" where he created the shadow weapons with which he armed the Ashen Circle. He glances down at his shadow bow..."are you back home, friend?" he wonders.

He recovers by placing a fist to his forehead and bowing deeply over one outstretched leg in the manor of his people. "Long days and pleasant nights, Sai Seraphina," he says. "I am Tilly Salvor, apprenticed warden and member of the Ashen Circle. "

Coming back up to his full height, which is definitively the shortest in the room, he adds, "My role, as far as I know, is to be a guide for these good people in certain regions, should they need one."

"Then I trust you will guard whatever secrets we discuss with the utmost care? May I see the bow you hold?"

Tilly hesitates for a moment - that is a strange request - but it's already been a strange day. "Of course," he says, holding it out to her. He doesn't know exactly why they are meeting with this person, but he knows it's some sort of negotiation. Best to go along with it. "I mean, of course, to both your questions."

Seraphina takes the bow in her hands. She is clearly inspecting it thoroughly. For a moment she seems to close her eyes and only inspect with her touch, tracing the carvings, before handing it back. "It is a fine weapon. And I see Ander's work in it. Welcome then, Master Tilly." Then to the group: "If there are no other preparations or communications you need to make, we should depart. There is much to discuss."

Tilly receives the bow with one hand, raising the other in a fist to his forehead in acknowledgement of her acceptance of him into the group.  At least temporarily.

“I’m ready as soon as my companions are. Maran’s received word of where we’re going.”

The elderly elf looks around the room and gathers you all close. She brings her thumb up and squeezes it gently. A small drop of blood emits from the small dagger wound. She looks at each of you with a glint in her eye and places her thumb near some other much smaller smudges on the black frame. And, with that, you all pass through the mirror into the Whispering Grove.

The strange feeling of passing through the mirror subsides quickly as you all find yourselves in the Whispering Grove. To your right, there is a dense copse of trees. Near the center of it on the side facing you, the trees appear to have grown into a woven doorway. Inside the doorway from where you stand is only darkness. The darkness is a stark contrast to the well lit meadow in which you find yourselves.

Your senses almost instantly pick up the transition from the dank and dusty room from which you entered. The air is fragrant here. It is sweet but also carries a warmth to it and depth like a freshly tilled garden. There is a gentle hum of insects, bees mostly, moving among the flowers that make up the carpet beneath your feet. 

A few feet before you is a small iron table. The table is elegant in its design and is clearly of elven make, reflecting the grove itself. Six chairs sit around the table which is currently set with a pitcher of what appears to be a lemon-flavored drink, a steaming teapot and a small tray of pastries, fruits and cheeses. An attendant stands near the table, an older elven man who looks regal but pleasant.

Even while giving the oddly blacked out doorway within the copse of trees a look, as he steps aside to make sure Ely has space, Dhann can’t help a reflexively deep breath of the warm and flowery tinted air. And then another. It’s cleansing and calming and the entire place, really, hums with a reassuring and secure peace. It’s entirely different from the enclosed, heavy, almost compressing, security of the bunker in which they stood a moment ago. 

He gives the Elven gentleman a small, polite bow of greeting and turns to Seraphina. “This is beautiful,” Dhann thanks her, without markedly saying so. And it is. Such a turn from the heaviness pervading the Material plane and the backs of their minds. The trees, the flowers…it’s almost nostalgic.

Turning to look at Seraphina, Dhann and the others would instantly note a transformation. Gone are the lines of age, her ears are smaller, the color of her robes is now a vibrant green with shades matching the grove nearly exactly. Her smile is just as warm and her eyes are just as blue. But gone is any indication of an advanced age.

"Please forgive me, but some of you may notice a disconcerting sensation momentarily, so this bears mentioning: for those of you who maintain a connection through your thoughts, minds, or spirits to anyone outside the grove, you'll observe that connection has broken. I assure you, this is only temporary while you're in the grove. The grove comes by its name honestly as it is a place where secrets can be told and nothing is overheard beyond its borders."

With that description, Dhann can’t help but give Elyana a concerned glance, keeping it clipped. He knows Ely doesn’t like when concern is focused on her, but he can’t help the instinctive worry. “There’s not any lasting sort of effect, upon leaving, is there? Or harm to those on the other side? I apologize - I don’t mean to be rude. We don’t often encounter such places, or boundaries.”

"There is no lasting effect whatsoever. I only mention it because often, when one becomes accustomed to a connection like that, losing it, even temporarily, can be quite jarring."

Dhann recalls those few hours of being trapped in Miridia, the total absence of Helm’s presence punching through him like a bottomless void, and can only nod in agreement, appreciative of the warning overall.

As Seraphina beckons you to sit, the attendant begins offering and pouring the preferred beverages. She nods pleasantly at the attendant and murmurs a thanks in Elvish.

"Now, I know there are certain things, Dhann, you especially need to know regarding.." She hesitates, unsure of what topics are appropriate to be discussed with the others present. ".. regarding my dear sister's holdings. But I'm certain there are other questions you may have. Where shall we begin?" Her demeanor is warm and inviting and the question is posed to everyone. She sips some tea while she waits.

“I think it may be best to start with what Ander had hoped to share with you, were he able - if I may?” As Dhann speaks, he pulls out the encrypted letter, and passes it to Seraphina. 

“I found this in Blackwood Manor - at first I couldn’t read it, but Ander had left enough of a hint in its otherwise nonsense on how to use this -“ He passes the Quill over, “to be able to read it. And I find, now, I can read all of his notes he wrote using that quill. I’ve brought a couple of his journals, at least as a start, even if I’ve not had time to read them thoroughly. It was only this morning I was able to decode his writings.” 

“He specifically told Maran, in that letter, to find you and that you’re the last hope, should Ander be…unavailable.”

“I don’t know how the Silent Vein plays into any of this, if it does at all…so if it’s agreeable to you, perhaps we start with what we know, at the very least, concerns the fates of everyone here, and elsewhere.” Dhann gestures lightly to the rest of his companions. “But yes…before we do leave, I would appreciate any detail you can give. It sounds serious, if a meeting was requested.”

Lastly, to round out the heavy start, Dhann pulls out his reconstructed Blackwood family tree and also passes that over. “I sincerely apologize if I may have inaccurately placed you within the tree. The information has been limited and I admit, I wasn’t expecting Elven heritage on Lady Blackwood’s side…the script of some letters is clearly of Elvish style but perhaps I was shallow in my thinking. Again, please accept my apology should I have made base assumptions with what little information I had.” 

Dhann’s apology is genuine, and it’s clear that Seraphina herself has thrown some of his prior thoughts on the Rommel side of the family, into some confusion and no small amount of curiosity.

She smiles as she takes the quill for a moment and hands it back. “He needed a way to keep secrets. And, as you may have noticed, that is an area in which we specialize. Unfortunately, however, I can read only the fanciful writings, not the underlying message. If you figured out how to decode the messages, then you are now the only one who can read them. The quill was modified by some of our best at Ander’s request. Of course, this means I’ll need you to read me the contents of some of the journals.”

Dhann blinks at that, and asks, “Even if someone else were to attune, and follow the same method I did, to be able to read his work? Surely the decoding isn’t a…” He searches for a way to say it, “one time thing? Of course, any assistance I can offer is wholly given.” He stares down at the seemingly mundane quill in his hands.

“Ah, yes. You are correct. If someone else were to gain possession of the quill and follow the steps you mentioned, you would no longer be able to read it and they would. However, because of that, we should be very careful to keep the quill and his note separate. Ander wanted these notes kept private for a reason. And though I truly don’t understand much of what he said, I did grow to trust him.”

“I have twelve journals that Ander wrote in this manner. I brought the first few with me. Maran wrote about three times as many for Ander, but has been helping me work through the contents of those. And…” Dhann hesitates a moment, clearly feeling his next question breaks some sort of boundary of etiquette. “Well - may I be so bold as to ask where you fall within the Blackwood family? I found these as well.” 

Dhann then hands over the letter from E, the two from Seraphina to Westra, and blushes at the blatant evidence of his having read through family documents - even with the dire circumstances surrounding his investigation, going through the private writings of someone else will forever cause discomfort.

“As to our parentage, it is not an accident that secrets were kept. Our mother and Westra’s father came to a sort of agreement for Westra’s benefit. It wasn’t from lack of care, in fact, it was for quite the opposite, as I was told. I suppose the bottom line is the important piece. Maran and Ander are born of a unique union that brought together some very powerful lines. I’m not sure she realized it at the time but, in hindsight, I’m certain our mother did.”

“I’m afraid Westra, for her part, simply fell in love. He was a good man, Lord Blackwood. He loved her very much. And the boys, for that matter. All three of them, I believe.”

“Are you aware, then, that Bran was the child of a tryst, outside of Lady Blackwood’s marriage to Saran?” Dhann clasps his hands on the iron tabletop, pressing his mouth into a harsh line in thought. 

“I mean no impropriety in asking. But I feel that the details of lineage, the Blackwoods, your family as a whole, have influenced much of what’s come to pass, and has yet to occur. Your letter of foresight regarding Bran’s anger, as an example, rang truly enough.”

A pause… “Would you be willing to share E’s name?…I understand if you’d rather not. Clearly it’s kept to a single letter for a reason.”

She smiles as she considers the words. "Yes, of course. There were few secrets between her and I. Our mother had little contact with her after she left, but I was able to keep her apprised of the important aspects. And, yes, to be clear, Bran was before Westras marriage, not outside it. And she loved him dearly. And so, I think, did Saran in a way, though he and I spoke rarely and never in familial terms.” She pauses again before clearly making a decision to say more. “He knew nothing of me, you see. Or rather, nothing of my relationship to Westra. We had a … business relationship…nothing more.”

Dhann nods silently, watching Seraphina’s face, and relieved that what he thought had happened, wasn’t the situation as he’d originally understood it. Still, there’s an inherent sadness still present, with these new, forthcoming details.

"And of course. Our mother is Elowen Terrenhelm. She is Elven as is my father. Westra's father, however, is Harrick Rommel, is human. A very respectable human. From the right lineage. All the right things. Of course, that makes the boys all one-quarter elven at least."

"And yes, the foresight, it is a mixed blessing to be sure. Alas, it is a gift over which I have very little control making it all the worse."

“All the right things…” Dhann repeats quietly. With Seraphina’s last admittance, Dhann nods. “I can only imagine what such a gift would weigh, marking it a burden at times. Ander says in this letter that you, Aunt Sera, will be the last hope if he’s gone. And at present, he seems to be, although…although I don’t think he’s gone in…that way…” 

“We heard from someone who saw what happened in Waterdeep, in Trollskull Alley - that a woman leapt forward at that final moment of impact. Was that you? I don’t know how it might be, because she hasn’t been seen since, yet…”

“An older woman, and she called his name out. We have two accounts of two people, but both rumors end with the woman running forward and vanishing. These rumors coincide with mentions of Ander and Maran seeing an aunt of theirs, who we know, now, is you.”

And then, with a color of desperation, “Do you know what happened that day?”

Her bright face turns dark indeed as these memories stir. "Yes, it was me. And, there are things I do know but, I'm afraid, they will likely be scant more than you. I had already seen it happening. On the way to the battle, I saw Ander's death. But, in truth, I think he did too. I've no idea what he was thinking would happen. I've no idea if he was martyring himself or truly expected to win. He was outmatched and outnumbered. Even if he was more powerful than Drezlin that day, which I still believe he was, he stood little chance in that battle.

"The reason Ander couldn't win is that he was unwilling to sacrifice those he cared about. In the end, his love for Maran and dare I say by then his love for Waterdeep, a city which had given him nothing special, prevented his victory."

"Ander needed to unlock Dunamancy. He had the power needed to destroy Drezlin. At least I believe he did. There were so many things he could already do. There was magic in him that he should not have access to. The power to destroy came readily to him. It scared him at times, I think."

"What he lacked was sufficient power to protect. Destroying Drezlin would have destroyed most of northern Waterdeep, if my visions were true. And, again, if the sight is real, would have left him standing alone, in a pile of rubble."

"So instead, he sacrificed himself. He knew he was going to, I think. He'd done the calculations. He'd weighed the possibilities. His only hopes had failed. In one last act of desperation, he hurt Drezlin. Hurt him enough in fact that I suspect he has been recovering ever since. The gods only know what he would have accomplished since then if Ander had not absorbed some of his will."

"And yes, that was me. I was never far from Ander when he was in danger. He has played heavily in my visions since his birth."

"And, on that day, I was there. And as soon as he realized it, he stopped me. I found myself stuck for a time, somewhere between Waterdeep and here. Not ... between... that's the wrong word. I was.. shared. I was in both places. And then, finally, here. I can't imagine what magic he used.

"As I'm sure you can imagine, I've replayed those moments again and again in my head. What would have happened if I had reached him faster? And each time, I know the answer to that question. I would have been killed as well. Ander didn't just die in that final act. He saved us all. I suspect few if any truly realize that."

"But, you asked what happened, not what didn't. The truth is, I don't know for certain. Ander, when he drew heavily on his innate magic, often collapsed. It was as if he used his own life force to fuel spells instead of the weave. Or maybe as well as the weave, who's to say. And, I know he was receiving help from somewhere else, though I know not where. A help that kept him from ... breaking himself, for lack of any better way of describing it. Something was almost literally holding him together. And whatever that was, allowed him to draw far more magic than his body could handle, I think."

"And like you, I like to think he is still... somewhere. I feel like I would know if he were gone. There is an old legend of Weaveghosts. It is a fanciful tale of what happens when a chosen of Mystra dies. Their spirit retains sentience and walks among the weave for eternity or until Mystra creates a new body for it. Though supposedly reserved for Mystra's chosen, I'd like to believe that something like it happened to Ander. That he is somehow between planes somewhere, waiting. Or perhaps just hasn't found his way back again. But, those are just the fantastic hopes of an old woman, I suppose."

Lady Trentte looks up from the tea she has been staring into during the telling. There is a tear in her eye. She doesn't try to hide. She sniffs a little and dabs at her nose with an elegant, light green cloth napkin. "Perhaps more than you wanted to hear. My apologies."

As Seraphina speaks, Dhann’s eyes move to the table, to give the woman more room to speak. It’s difficult to put into words, just what he’s feeling, but after a time he’s able to identify that at the core, what resonates is a hum of confirmation, to him. A multifaceted validation of so many of his thoughts, theories, concerns. And at the last…

“I know he is,” Dhann’s words are quiet, barely audible, but then he raises his voice to be better heard. “I know he’s somewhere - I can’t explain how I know, but I do. I feel it.” His gaze, intense, terribly sure, meets Seraphina’s and Dhann’s hands clench into fists on the table. In an echo of just how strong Dhann’s conviction is, Stout’s claws grip the Cleric’s pauldron with enough tension that the metal under a talon elicits a faint rasp. “He protected as many as he could, in the best way he could, perhaps even the only way he could live with, for the…eternity he may or may not be facing at this very moment.”

“In all of what he’s left behind, all of his writings…Ander never mentions dying. He talks of being gone, of being elsewhere, unreachable. But not dead. I don’t know why that stands out to me, but it does all the same.” Dhann shakes his head sharply, wonder and resolution in his face.

“Everything you say makes a horrible, dire sense and it feels terrible to say but I draw almost a…reassurance from it all.” He grimaces, knowing how it must sound. “We know Mystra favored him, that his magic operated more from his own life force than how we understand magic to operate. And I can’t help but think that…that it’s up to us, now, to finish the start Ander risked all to give us.” 

He glances around at the faces of everyone at the table. “I can’t bear the thought of him having found a peace we rip him from to do what we might have the ability and responsibility to do ourselves.” Dhann’s face softens from its angles of determination and his voice grows quieter. 

“I talk to him, when I can.” The Cleric speaks directly to Seraphina, now, even if his words are heard by everyone. “I talk to him of the good that’s accomplished, or seen. I try to convey images, or memories, that might bring him peace, wherever he is. It feels like I’m supposed to. That it might help him.”

She smiles. Though she seems to connect with Dhann, there is also a look of sadness for Dhann. "I see why Westra chose you. I talk to him too and to her." She pauses. "But, among all this, the last remaining Blackwood has become the Blackstaff, I hear. There must be some hope in that. And, you are all here. Perhaps that brings enough hope that we should see Ander's tasks completed." She sighs wistfully, one last time before: "Now, enough of this for a moment. We'll have time for sadness I'm sure. Now, we must focus on why Ander sent you here. I must admit, I have very little idea what he could have thought I could do. Do you have any thoughts? And please, you can speak freely here. The Whispering Grove keeps its secrets."

Dhann sees the look of sadness given to him, and he finds that, ultimately, he has to glance aside. He doesn’t know why.

“I think that may be where Ander’s journals come in,” He says, pulling the few he brought, out of his pack. Then, he indicates the unmarked letter and, pointing at the whimsical wording, reads clearly:

“Dearest Maran, I assume that if you're reading this, I've gone somewhere you can't reach me. I know this may be difficult to understand but you must get help and get to Aunt Sera.”

“If I am gone, she will be the last hope. She has helped a lot, but I haven't shared with her the things I was trying to do. Take this letter. Take my notes. And help her read them.”

Looking again at Seraphina, “There are nine more of these, back at Blackstaff Tower, that Ander penned and I can now read. The other thirty eight were penned by Maran at Ander’s request. I’m sure, if you’ve time to dedicate to twelve of these, we’ll find what Ander needed you to see.”

Lady Trentte looks somewhat taken aback on hearing the letter. "Well, perhaps we should dig into these a little then.. I must admit, I'm currently at a loss but he saw things differently. Perhaps he saw something, some pattern, something. He only mentioned to me three goals, unlocking Dunamancy, creating the weapons, and powering a Mythal. Of those, I was only able to help with one, I'm afraid. Might there be something I'm missing?"

“I fear that unlocking Dunamancy has already happened, but the results of that unlocking, we may not be sure of yet. Did Ander give you an account of that catastrophe?” Dhann pauses, then continues. “I have his version of events, but it’s only one version. And as time progressed, Ander’s mental state, tragically, began to deteriorate enough that perhaps his record of what happened might not be as dependable as we’d originally thought.”

“And I say unlocked, already, only because of two things.” Dhann leans forward to rest his elbows on the table and clasp his hands together to better focus. 

“Firstly, the descriptions of what happened that day in Trollskull Alley. There’s something…unsettling about the way in which an explosion happened, and then the crater, as if the ground had simply been scooped out, moved elsewhere. In one account, Drezlin walked away. In another, he vanished along with Ander.”

“Your description of being held in place, shared in two places, almost…do you remember anything else about that? I…” Dhann stops, trying to figure out how best to describe something he still struggles to properly find words for. 

“It reminded me of something I experienced.” Dhann then proceeds to give Seraphina an account of the Forbiddance, and how when the spell was supposed to fade, he was knocked unconscious, but not from his perspective. “I could see my body, but from a distance. And I had a blue glow, and the first Blackstaff, Khelben, remarked it was Dunamantic in quality but he couldn’t sense Ander. Did - did you experience anything similar to this?” 

He gives a halting, hesitant description of the Blue Lady, more so on the oddity of her color matching the glow, as well as the lifelight red, “…That even now, is on my person, with the blue. And each of you is a steady red.” 

“And there’s certainly nothing about me that’s Dunamantic. Meaning it’s coming from someone else, and with your description of Ander receiving help from someone else…it makes me wonder.” Dhann finds his teacup running dry for the second time. He’s still not accustomed to talking so much. But the chance to sit, speak freely and safely in the pursuit of answers…it’s a gift, it’s like a weight off his shoulders, even if there are yet more questions.

Listening carefully, Lady Trentte clearly is attempting to piece together these clues into something meaningful. "I am no expert on the weave or Dunamancy or how all these things work. But, my sense is, from working with Ander, that he used something within him to take the threads of the weave and knit them into something entirely different. I'm not sure how much you ever witnessed but he could stop time, maybe even reverse it, he could control the very force that keeps our feet locked on the ground. Each time he did, it took a toll. My sense is, he needed full access to these tools."

"So, in that sense, since he didn't have access to them, I have to assume that Dunamancy, if it is even real, remained inaccessible to him. I have to think.. no.. I have to hope that's a good thing. Because if Ander had no access to it, then perhaps no one else does now."

"As to being in two places at once, yes. That sounds very much like what I experienced. In both places I could see and process information. I wonder if the same happened to Drezlin. If he walked away AND was taken ... perhaps my circumstance and his were both caused by Ander. We certainly know he hasn't been defeated, so he wasn't destroyed."

"Regarding your experiences with this blue glow, I'm not sure any of that sounds familiar to me. Of course, there are spells and certain magics that can create things similar. In fact, we even have a ring that allows one to see the vibrancy and health in others. But to be able to do this ... inherently? I know of no creature or mage that can do that permanently. Certainly, there are many things in all the worlds about which I know nothing."

"Perhaps, we should flip through some journals and you can tell me some of the things you find. I feel as though we can speculate for an era and never really know what happened. But, if Ander wanted me to review the journals, we may need to start there."

Dhann nods, but then sits up a bit straighter, a spark catching in his mind at something Seraphina described. “Did - did Ander ever mention anyone, or thing, called the Weaver?” 

He digs out Ander’s account of the eclipse and points out the last part of the record, where Ander mentions all hope being with the Weaver. “Your saying he may have used the Weave to “knit” magic made me think of this.”

"The Weaver, yes! He did. Well, not to me directly. Some days, when his experiments with the shadow weapons grew exceptionally dangerous, I would insist on staying to watch. I rarely had as much time as I wanted to keep an eye on him, but when I could spare it, I did. And typically, I knew if he was going to be in danger. However, watching Ander work was like watching a master craftsman or an artist. He would get engrossed in his efforts. Scribbling into his own journals, calling out things for Maran to write and the like. But I do recall, occasionally, when he pulled magic from the orb in the Arcanexus, he would ask himself what the weaver would use."

"I never questioned it. But, he did tell me once after an evening full of failed experiments that he feared he would have 'nothing to leave the weaver' if he didn't figure things out."

“We’ve wondered if Ander means Z, who is an exceptional weaver himself, textiles and moving into more complicated magic…” Dhann gives Z a respectful nod and then says, “Gods willing, the journals have what we’re looking for.”

Seraphina looks at Z for a moment with a slight smile. "That is an interesting possibility. Perhaps, when we are out of the Grove, Master Z, we could spend a few moments together. My sight works best with people I have a connection with."

Dhann begins flipping through the journals calling out seemingly important details. He finds multiple references to the creation of a mythallar. "Need more people." And following that is a list of powerful wizards:

Elminster

Safar

Sera

Silverhand

Larloch

There are a few other names Dhann does not recognize. Seraphina does though. "Those are some of the most powerful mages in Toril. But it would take several of them to create a Mythallar. That's one of the reasons they are so rare. It isn't often that enough mages of sufficient power can agree. And, I should NOT be on that list, to be clear. I have some very special skills but general power is something I lack. Additionally, Ander himself probably SHOULD be on that list. And now Maran.”

"It seems he was desperate to create a mythallar. But without a seed or enough wizards, it is a futile exercise."

Dhann frowns at the list of names, then looks up at Seraphina, deadly serious. “And if we have the former already…?”

"A seed? Well, there aren't many available. We would need to acquire it. You must understand, the Silent Grove is not typically in the business of separating people from property. But, we do have adequate assets to do so if needed."

Dhann wonders, again, just what it is he’s inherited from the business side of this family. “No, Lady Trentte…We’re halfway through with that list. I’d not say so aloud if we were meeting in any other location, given what you’ve assured us about this place.”

"Am I to understand you have a mythal seed?" Her eyes widen and, despite her assurances of secrecy, her voice drops to a whisper instinctively.

“Yes. That year we were gone…it was in pursuit of that.”

"The whole time? That's where you'd been? Well, I'm not sure how the fates would have rewarded your presence if you'd been here helping Ander, but I will certainly say, your reward may have been well worth the sacrifices caused by your absence." She flips back a few pages. "Here I think, it was in here. The mention of the 'process of absorption' refers to filling a mythallar. I'm sorry, are you familiar with the basics?"

"It is actually a fairly simple concept. A mythallar can be used to store magic indefinitely. It can store powerful spells or raw magic. Once stored, spells will come out as they went in. But raw magic can be tapped by the bearer of the mythallar. Or, it can be programmed in a way, to issue forth certain properties. The flying cities were mostly powered by mythallars. Early in my mother's time, they were fairly common. They were used for many things. But after Mystra's death, most of them were either destroyed or simply faded out."

"The question though, is what did Ander want to do with one if he had it? And, if it is still required for your purposes, there is only one wizard on that list with whom you need to speak."

“Regrettably, moving across two planes and at least three demiplanes or pocket dimensions…time became very warped. We had no idea how much time had passed until we got back.”

“As for the end goal…we have what Ander was after, whether in parts or on paper. But we have yet to have deduced just what he meant to do with any of these parts, or the sum of them. Destroy Drezlin, stop Cyric…but just how he meant to, is still a mystery to us…Larloch, yes. Maran mentioned he’s familiar with a route to get there, based on research he helped Ander with.”

"Clever boy. I always knew there was more in there. Very well, let's continue and see what else we uncover."

As Dhann reads out passages of interest, Lady Trentte nods or shakes her head for ideas that seem material or important enough to discuss. Unfortunately, Dhann also comes across references to the subjects provided by Silverhand. Many, many of them. In the earliest of notes, some of them were listed with names. In later entries they were listed by some physical characteristics such as 'lazy eye' or 'the lame one' or 'earless.' The descriptions of some are more than Dhann is willing to read aloud or recount to Sera.

Seeing the wincing of Dhann's face at some of the content, Sera tries to comfort him. "It's ok, I know. It was not a clean process. I can assure you, though, that he did everything possible to ease any suffering they endured. And, if it had been possible, I think he would have traded places with them. Wait.. go back. There. The middle part."

Dhann backs up and rereads a small section.

"It seems simple. If we unlock it, we collect it. Once inside, it will be mine to carry, and only accessible to me. And then I can use it like a weapon or leave it for the weaver. He'll be able to turn it into something he can use."

On hearing this, Sera looks at Z with a smile. "There's our weaver again. But, this passage makes sense if Ander is talking about a mythallar. That's exactly what it is used for."

The rows of “subjects” remind Dhann all too much of the nightmare of Nihiloor’s lab, and he latches onto the information Sera moves to, in an attempt to quell his stoic horror at what Ander both committed, and endured - as well as the poor souls listed within.

“So,” he says, swallowing hard and clearing his throat, “might a Mythallar only answer to one wielder? Either a specific crafter, or the one a Mythallar is charged, and intended for?”

"Certainly. They are powerful objects. They can be crafted to do many things. But, also if it held something you couldn't wield, it would be of little use to you. Drezlin, for example, seems to have learned to acquire and use Shadow Magic. This shouldn't be possible. It doesn't belong here. But alas, here we are. A vessel of shadow Magic would be useless to you or I.  Even Ander, after nearly a year's worth of study, could barely wield it. Perhaps, in the right hands a 'bucket' of time altering magic that doesn't belong here, could be useful, but to those without the skill, it may as well be a bucket of fish."

“Two schools of magic, neither of which should be here, both of which are difficult if not almost impossible to wield…supposedly to be used to fight each other…” Dhann runs a hand through his hair, staring down at the Elvish-from-nonsense. “I’m amazed Ander was able to do as much as he did.”

"Indeed. Let's see what else we can find."

Dhann reads aloud another section and glances up at Ely and Z knowingly.

"It's not coming back right anymore. I've gotten used to the pain. But each time it's restored, it seems to get worse. At first, the clerics were managing, and Silverhand, but.. I don't even know if she has the strength. It seems to be getting worse. But I have no other solution.

The ashes from the Blackwood blood seem to be the only thing that works. If I knew how to wield the magic, to shape it to what I need, this would be easier. 

Also, I haven't told the others about the dangers yet. I'm not sure I can. These are our only defenses against these creatures. We have to use them. But what happened to Uthen-Kai.. can I let that happen again?"

"Either way, I know this is coming to an end soon. Sera knows too. I'll keep preparing and hopefully everything will hold."

Still looking for details that may be of import, Dhann runs across a section about Elminster. It doesn't fit with anything else around it. Experiment, result, experiment result. And then, almost as if Ander took a break to think about something else:

"Shadows and time. Neither really exist. Shadows only reflect reality and time simply measures it. They don't exist on their own. Maybe that's why they were so problematic. That balance .. if one exists, the other must also. That's the problem really. Elminster .. there must be something he can do.. Maran is good today. We 'talked' a little. He's happiest when he's busy. 

One must have the other. And now, there is only shadow. Elminster said it over and over and over. The balance was the important thing. The eclipse was the balance between light and dark. A period of equalization, neither dominating. 

Gods, Erky has smoked some fish. It is delicious. His cooking is much improved. 

But neither winning. It is futile now, without them. But, had it all worked, who would be lost now? My mother? Bran? Iris? Maran? Had it worked like it was supposed to, with the Nightstone and Sunstone playing opposites and the last in the middle, would Drezlin have risen? Would Waterdeep be under siege?

"I will not give up. Until.. I do."

"Does that passage have meaning to you? The light and the dark?"

Dhann looks over the words again, heart heavy, and tries to recall why that phrasing sounds so familiar.

“A while ago…we’d met with Elminster and he’d described accessing Dunamancy from a…a place in between or a sort of twilight. He didn’t know if it was a literal thing, like a time of day, or a state of mind, he even mentioned theories like it being a drug or literally, light and darkness…”

He runs a hand across his mouth in thought, frustrated. “I can’t help but feel like I’m forgetting something. It’s right on the tip of my tongue and I don’t know what it is. The eclipse is the most literal thing we have from Ander’s accounts that I can think of. A false dawn, or dusk. The lighting is so strange you can’t tell natural time is almost suspended. But, here -“ Dhann flips to the entry in Ander’s journal, in Common, for Seraphina to read. “He mentions a period of balance.”

“Lord Helm clear my mind - he says light and darkness right here.” Dhann reads the section of journal aloud to the group:

“Date: 9th of Mirtul

I've spent countless hours today poring over ancient tomes and astrological charts. Silverhand lent me use of her library though I’m not sure it helped. The spectacle I witnessed was one of such power. Elminster wasn’t the cause and, dare I say, I don’t think even he has the power to create such a thing.

However, if such an alignment could happen once, could there be a way to recreate it through arcane means? The balance of light and darkness, the precise calculation of celestial trajectories, and the immense magical energy required are daunting to consider. I’m sure a mythallar would be capable of harnessing and targeting the magic required but El said one was already needed to harness what we would unlock. And even if we had two, who would be powerful enough to control them?

In my heart, I know this path is too dangerous. The repercussions could be vast and unpredictable. Yet, for whoever picks up the gauntlet after I’m gone, it may be the only way. El said we needed that moment of darkness, the period of balance, he called it.”

With a jolt, struck by a sudden idea, Dhann’s head snaps up to look at Elyana and Z with wide eyes, casting a questioning look at Seraphina as well.

“Wait - two Mythallar…if we really do need to access Dunamancy - we have the seed…and we have one of the collectors, that - if Larloch can help us - may be able to act as a collector for Dunamancy.”

The Cleric’s face pales as he considers just what they may have access to. “If…if we can charge the seed into a Mythallar, we may be able to cause a manufactured eclipse, and use the collector we recovered as the net in which to harness Dunamancy.”

Oh, gods…Dhann feels almost breathless at the thought. It…it might be possible.

The elf looks down. She is clearly disturbed by the thought. But something else is weighing heavily on her. She pauses for a moment then seems resigned as she looks up and says, "There may be another way. I didn't expect to combine these conversations. But, I think it may be important for you to learn about the Silent Vein. Before that, though, what of the other elements? The Sunstone is only a legend.

“We’ve learned that the Sunstone is an alternative name for the Moonstone. We originally thought they were two separate entities…And…before you speak of the Silent Vein, I have to ask you something about it, first…Two things, actually, but one question need not be asked, depending on the answer of the first…but I’ll not ask if now isn’t the time. But I need to ask, before the discussion moves to that subject.”

"Of course. Please, Dhann, you forget, I am in your employ now, as it were. Ask anything you like."

Dhann’s face somehow manages to pale further as his cheeks pink with embarrassment. 

“That’s the matter of it - what Lady Blackwood left to me, I…I admit I’m still taken aback by it. I only just learned of the Silent Vein, what little I know of it, roughly a tenday ago…But what I can tell of it is that it’s very powerful, and very good at what it does.” 

He looks squarely at Seraphina, speaking to her as an elder and person above him. “I would understand if it’s something that you desire and expect to remain within the family. Yet if it may be used to help turn the tide, I ask that we might use it to do so.”

"Those may be discussions for another time. And only if we all live to see that time. If the rumors from the North are true, Drezlin seeks to return Cyric to power. His first attempt to take over resulted in terrible losses and he wasn't even successful. People say Mystra is still recovering. By the gods, if he returned now, what would be the point of the Silent Vein at all? 

"We are in agreement that the resources of the Vein must be considered as a service to the cause. However, like most things that aren't written in story books, the decision is quite a bit more complicated than it seems. Also, the moonstone? It belongs to Selûne, no?

"Was Ander supposed to simply step forward toward a goddess and ask for the stone? What was Elminster's plan? What was your plan?" Her calm veneer is wearing somewhat thin. "He was just a boy!" Her voice is a mere whisper, possibly to herself. Her hand moves to the bridge of her nose, one finger in the corner of each eye for a moment. "Forgive me. The loss of Ander is still very fresh to me. The weight of what was on his shoulders was completely unfair and unjustified. The fates, the gods, ancient wizards? It seems the power of one of these asked too much of him."

"We do need to sort through those journals some more. However, I think a moment or two for additional conversation and then a visit to the Vein is in order."

Dhann listens to Seraphina’s outburst, justified and understandable and something, like Shadow and Dunamancy, that shouldn’t be happening and yet, is. 

“It was never the plan,” Dhann says quietly, “Which makes Ander’s part in all of this, even more of a tragedy. Grief is not something one should feel the need to ask forgiveness for.” He extends a hand to Seraphina, palm up. “With your permission? If I may bestow a blessing of fortitude.”

"I've learned over my long years to never refuse a blessing. Thank you, kind sir." She bows her head slightly for just a moment. It is clear to all that her momentary lapse was completely out of character for her. Her face returns to its stoic but kind visage before she continues. "For whatever reason, my mother and Westra's father felt it imperative that her parentage and therefore, her relationship with me, be kept hidden. As such, in my dealings with the Blackwood family, and many others in Waterdeep specifically, I have always used a series of intermediaries. In the end, it has proven advantageous on more than one occasion both for the business and for me, personally."

"I did meet Bran in his early years but have largely stayed away since then. It was only after I saw a glimpse of Ander's fate, specifically, his murder, that I began a more personal involvement. And, you'll forgive me, but when you all arrived in Waterdeep and became entrenched in events surrounding the family, I became keenly interested in you as well."

"The night of the horrible attempt on Ander's life was a harrowing and nearly surreal experience. And from that night on, I've become more involved in his life. I finally introduced myself only to discover his mother had told him about me. He knew who I was and that I may be along to help someday." She looks to the sky a bit pensively. "He was so trusting."

"In any case, other than my contact with Ander and Maran, I've remained separate from the family and even from Waterdeep. On my few forays into the city on personal business, I've always worn a disguise lest connections be made. I know Mirt knows now, although, I suspect he may always have known more than he let on. But otherwise, my connection to the Blackwoods, as far as I know, still remains a secret. And, consequently, my connection to you all should remain so as well. I am sure I can count on your discretion."

Dhann takes one of her hands to hold in his own. With a bowed head and closed eyes, Dhann focuses in silence for a moment. As the Elven woman speaks, a prayer for strength and calm, settles on each person like a reassuring warmth within the safety of the Whispering Grove. A Beacon of Hope, a small piece of light, to help banish darkness. The Cleric then sits back. “Revelation of such, shall not be our doing.”

"Thank you, for both your blessing and your prudence."

Dhann grows silent for a moment, clearly considering whether or not to ask something. Elyana and Z clearly recognize the soundless and internal contest. And again, the drive for knowledge wins out. “That night…Z, on the rooftops, caught clear sight of a woman, even if her face was obscured. In Ander’s room, there were footprints in the blood. Female, more elven than human in their silhouette.”

He pauses again, before meeting Seraphina’s gaze and asking, “Were you there?”

With a deep smile, "Indeed I was. But, I did not enter the house. Far too much risk involved if I was discovered." She pauses thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose you are entitled to know. You were not the only ones protecting Ander that night. If you'll forgive me, I knew little of you all or your abilities. The woman your friend saw was of my doing, hired to also protect Ander. But, you did see me that night, on the street I believe. I certainly saw you all. Our paths have crossed. And, if it puts your mind at ease, the three assassins involved in that evening have been appropriately dealt with."

"Perhaps it is time you see the operation, or at least parts of it. Is there any place you would like to begin your tour of the Vein?"

Dhann’s eyes widen in realization and he sits back, somewhat stunned. “Yes - by the corner of a garden…that was you? You’re Marie?” He can’t help a small huff of a laugh, from such a surprise as well as the rest of the information Seraphina has revealed. “Gods - I’ve wondered who that was, ever since, if she was alright. That was you?”

He shakes his head at this new information and what feels like a four year weight in the form of a specific and unanswered question lessens, in favor of knowledge. “As for the Silent Vein…I’m not quite sure where to start. I know so little I don’t think I can answer solidly, but - perhaps we begin with how it works? Then we may be able to better understand how it may help.” Dhann asks with respect. “Although, I defer to your experience in this.”

With a chuckle, "Yes, that was me. I'm embarrassed that I was seen well enough to be remembered. It is good to be able to smile about it now." She loses herself in thought for a moment and a hint of the sadness from earlier appears on her face before she brushes it away. "Yes, how it works. Well, perhaps we can start with a quick overview and move on from there. The Silent Vein began as a mine. A very pure vein of silver was found here and it led deep into the ground. The vein led the original miners to other resources, mithril, gold and more."

"As the story goes, the miners eventually bored through a wall into a dusty chamber. My mother's family were brought in along with other scholars, to determine the purpose of the chamber. The exact details of what happened next are unclear." She pauses for a moment. "You know what? This is probably better shown than told. If you would all care to join me, we can take a tour. And please, if any of you have any questions along the way, please don't hesitate to ask. It is possible you will draw connections that I have not."

Seraphina stands politely and thanks the attendant looking expectantly at all of you.

"Shall we?"

Dhann quickly and neatly tucks the documents from earlier away so they’re not left on the table, and stands as well. He looks to his companions, ready to leave when they may be.

"This way then. It will take us some time to cover the entire operation so we have plenty of time to continue our conversation and I'll answer any questions I can." She leads the group toward the darkened doorway in the stand of trees. "The Silent Vein's chief commodity is secrecy. It is what we do best. I am not boasting when I say we have been involved in nearly every major event in Toril for the past... well, for a very long time. We trade in secrets and discretion. There are those who believe some of what we do to be illegal or immoral. But the truth of the matter is we are simply neutral. Have we been complicit in events that have harmed people? I'm sure that answer is an unqualified 'yes'. But have we also been responsible for saving the lives of entire regions? That is also 'yes'. The idea of neutrality and balance is not just a guiding principle in our business, it is essentially a mandate. I will explain that later."

"Our actual businesses include first, of course, the mine itself which after all these years continues to produce."

After walking through the darkened doorway, you find yourselves in a long hallway. The Whispering Grove grows further and further away and you feel yourselves descending. The decline is not substantial but you are definitely moving downward. The smell of the grove is replaced by the smell of the earth and, for a time, you feel yourselves under ground. A light emerges at the end of the long hallway and a set of stairs leads finally downward to a closed door. The light is from a lit torch that hands in a sconce on the wall to your right. Lady Trentte removes the torch and places it into a similar sconce on her left. She then places her hand on the door gently and you see a handle appear. She reaches for the handle and opens the door. 

You step onto a ledge about 150 feet up the side of a mountain. The ledge has a floor paved with flat stones and a low wall near the edge forming somewhat of a balcony. There are two sets of tables and chairs, similar to your lunch table, and a low bench that runs the length of the balcony wall.

You now stand overlooking a vast mining operation. The sounds of equipment and hammering and workers moving about is a stark contrast to the peacefulness of the whispering grove. Scaffolding and wooden boardwalks line a massive pit below that stretches further down than can be seen from this vantage point. Literally, hundreds of workers can be seen going about their jobs. Further off in the distance, beyond the mine, lies what can only be described as a small city. Tidy little houses are tucked away along quaint streets. Smoke rises from chimney's, children can be seen playing in the dirt streets, and the city looks as if it could be any of hundreds of small towns along the High Road or the Long Road.

In addition to the simple vastness of the scene, the mine is clearly incredibly busy. Carts full of ore are moved to massive hammering machines, which crush the ore into smaller rocks. Tremendous conveyors powered by a running river and waterfall run throughout the complex, moving ore from one station to another. Carts being loaded with ore stand ready to depart to somewhere unseen. Some of the ore seems also to be divided off and sent down to another level. In short, this is a thriving operation and probably a larger mine than any of you have ever seen.

"It is a lot to take in. Sometimes I come up here just to look down to remind myself of the extent of things. It is easy to get lost in the minutiae of our operation and to forget the larger picture. This spot," she points to the tables and chairs and bench, "helps me remember the scale and put things into perspective."

"Most of our workers live there." She points across to the small city.

Dhann nods, staring out at the expanse of activity and industriousness. He unconsciously runs a hand along the railing and murmurs, “A good spot, this.” 

He turns. “How many families?”

"Precisely? I'm afraid I don't know. But we employ over 600 people in the mining operation alone. I would number the city's population at around three to five thousand people. In the summer months when our specialty crops come in, that number may jump to six thousand.”

"And, there is an aspect of the operation that you should be aware of. It is somewhat complicated. It doesn't apply to the mine or the farms, but does to the other, more discreet, areas of our operations."

"Crops?"

"Yes, Tilly. Over the years we've been fortunate to transport crops from distant lands.. very distant. And, some of those we have found ways to grow locally. It is a very small part of the business but yes, we do serve as a small agricultural hub for some.. less common .. crops."

Dhann was about to ask the same thing, and there’s something about Seraphina’s hesitance that catches his attention. “It sounds like these may have a very…specific market, whatever they are. But in regard to the other aspect - I’m no stranger to complication. I don’t think any of us are, at this point.”

"Very well. The workers you see below us all tend to the mine. Among them are certainly a few who are part of other operations, but for the most part, this is considered the public face of the Silent Vein."

"We operate somewhat differently than most. Each of these workers holds a share in the organization. None are technically employed. They all work for a share of the output. Each of the workers you see below is paid based solely on production and the skills they can provide to increase it. There is a worker's council that makes all the decisions for the mine. The same council appoints forepeople to oversee specific operations."

"For the less... public... areas of the operations, the same is true. But in those, each worker is magically bound to their agreements which include the discretion we have discussed. As I said, our principal commodity is secrecy. For many years, I have overseen operations here. But I am a shareholder just like every person you see. My magical binding to the Silent Vein is perhaps a little more complex, but the principle is the same."

"The primary result of our system is families who have worked here for generations. We certainly have our problems, but one thing we do not lack is worker dedication. And, each of these people would quickly take up arms to defend the Vein which has helped to maintain its existence for so many years. Even through the Spellplague and the wars of the north, the Silent Vein has remained."

"The other operations you cannot see from this vantage point are grouped into several categories. The mining operation extends into manufacturing. From the manufacture, we operate a small enchantment business. Portions of this part of the operation are widely known. The other widely known service provided is transportation, but we will get to that last."

"The other more discreet areas of the business are varied, and some are client-dependent. But we can discuss those as we continue. I'm sure this is a lot to take in. And I'm sorry to have not prepared you better." She smiles politely and sincerely.

“Before any more is said -“ Dhann holds up a tactful, but serious hand, thinking over the information and running through it at practiced speed. “Does any further detail require that those with me run the need or risk of magical binding? I’ll not have them subject to something without their knowledge, nor do I expect them to concede to such a caution - understandable as it may be. If parts of what you’re going to speak of require that ruling, that may be best moved to private disclosure.”

"You have indicated clearly that you trust them. You are the exception to the binding. Westra was as well. You alone have the freedom to disclose or not anything you see with whomever you choose. I hope that helps convey the level of faith Westra had in you, for whatever reason."

Dhann can only fall silent, holding Seraphina’s crystalline gaze with his own pale one as he contends with this last information. Somehow, it’s those words that make the gravity and power of this entire inheritance real, even as he sees it for himself. 

The Cleric looks back over the expanse, bustling with productivity and crimson. He’s standing still, but Stout roughly shakes his feathers in a restless attempt to work off some of his tether’s emotions. And then the owl settles, smoothing his plumage, and gives Seraphina a long, slow blink.

“It does help,” Dhann replies, meeting Seraphina’s gaze again. Those familiar eyes. “I’m ready to continue.”

Tilly steps to the edge of the stone wall and reaches over it, admiring the greenery and flowering plants that surround them.  He reaches out and pulls a particularly vibrant gold and blue flower close to his nose, sniffing at it as his whiskers tremble. It reminds him of a alstroemeria, but the coloration and scent is completely different.

"Sai Seraphina," he asks, "May I ask what this flower is called, and may I take one? As part of my apprenticeship for warden of my warren, I'm collecting specimens to present as I tell of my journeys. This would make a lovely addition."

She smiles at Tilly. "You certainly may. The plant is called a Harboring Vine. Here, let me show you." She steps closer to the lushest part of the vine and pulls away the top layer. A beautifully painted teapot sits suspended at an odd angle. It has a small chip and seems to be missing its lid. She smiles back at Tilly, releasing the plant, and reaches into a pocket. She pulls the dagger with which she pricked her thumb. Her hand extends and the tip of the dagger touches near the vine. The vine slowly extends one tendril then another. She releases the dagger and you all watch as it is consumed and completely hidden by the vine and its foliage.

Where the dagger disappeared, a flower forms. The color is distinct from the others for a moment. It starts as a shimmering white before fading into the yellow of the others and blooming fully. Seraphina smiles and plucks the flower. The vine retreats and the dagger appears once more. Handing the flower to Tilly, she retrieves and pockets her dagger.

Tilly is clearly awed by this plant, and accepts the flower with another raised fist to his forehead and a bow. He pulls a bindle from his pack and with practiced grace, unrolls it and places the flower inside, next to many others that have been dried and preserved. Replacing the bindle, he reaches for a gap in the wall where two stones come together and mutters a short incantation.  Immediately, a very delicate ivy sprouts and begins to grow. When it reaches about four inches long, it stops, but it is clearly healthy and well rooted. "This is a plant from my region, which we call Mortar Ivy. It's nothing so grand as your Harboring Vine, but if you allow it to grow along a structure, like this wall, it will actually strengthen the structure. Many of my people use it to reinforce their hutches."

Nodding in thanks and admiration. "Why thank you, Sir Tilly. That is very kind."

Tilly looks like he's debating this next question, but goes ahead and asks, "I understand the need for discretion, but may I know the general geography we are in? I would like to be able to name where I found this Vine, although not the details, of course. I think we're somewhere south and east of where I've never been before...maybe in the Sunset Mountains, Storm Horns, Giants Run, Troll Mountains or even the Snowflake Mountains."

"Yes, of course. It never occurred to me that you wouldn't know where we are; my apologies. You are very perceptive, sir. The Snowflake Mountains lie just to our east. We are approximately a day's journey north of Riatavin, as the crow flies. Of course, we have ways of getting there much faster."

Tilly nods deeply this time, opting for a less formal show of appreciation. However, he can't fully suppress the smile that brightens his face; the idea of being so far from home is thrilling to one who finds joy in journeying just to simply see what's over the horizon.

"Very well, let's continue our tour." She leads you to an elevator of sorts. It is well crafted and not at all like some of the rickety contraptions common to most mines. Stepping in there is a sense of heat from below. "We'll be going down quite a bit to our first stop."

The ride down is longer than one would expect. When the contraption finally comes to a halt, the door opens into a vast workshop of sorts. On the left and right lie two open storage areas with all manner of weapons and armor and other metallic objects of both war and function. Ahead and on the left, after the storage rooms is a vast network of workbenches, tools, and anvils. Fires line the wall to the left and the sounds of pinging hammers can be heard as what can only be described as artisans work metal into various objects. On the right, a massive smelter can be seen from which sets of workers draw raw liquid metal into large ladles and then pour into molds. While the temperature of the room should be extremely hot, you notice a large system of fans high in the walls that clearly draw the heat away into ducts leading, presumably, to the surface.

The only light comes from across the room. A door opens into what appears to be the bottom of the mine. A wagon wheels out some of the raw metal that has been molded. No doubt this is being shipped somewhere.

“I’ve been in a few forges and smithies but what’s here - this setup is…exquisite.” Dhann soaks in as much detail as he can while they walk. The utility and function of the place is obviously paramount in consideration of the work being done, but form hasn’t been sacrificed at all.

"It has been redesigned many times over the years, I assure you. Nearly everything you see has been in near-constant use for hundreds of years. You will notice the ceiling here is extremely high. That is actually not the case. The reality of the situation is that the floor is extremely low. Periodically, as the mine deepens, we move the floor down to match the depth of the mine. It has proven easier to move ore in and out as needed. And up there," she points up and to your right where you see a series of levels rising up the right-hand wall, "those chutes allow anything mined from previous layers to be slid directly into the smelters. The hammers you saw are also connected to those chutes. Not all the ore ends up here and not all the metal that is smelted stays here. But, that which does, ends up in their hands to become some of the finest weapons available."

"If you'll accompany me back into the elevator, we have another stop to make."

She leads you all back into the elevator and, through some series of levers and switches, commands it to rise. About half-way up, by your reckoning, the elevator stops and the door opens again. The exit leads to another observation balcony somewhat similar to the first. The proximity of the fans makes it a little harder to hear each other on this level so she raises her voice a bit.

"From here, we can oversee the production below, of course. But, if you'd like to step out and look back at this wall..." She beckons you to step out and then look back at the wall which now lies to the left of the elevator.

On this wall is what seems to be a massive construction of switches and levers. There are six people standing on three levels of catwalks facing the wall. They move back and forth flipping switches and turning gears. They are clearly communicating with others throughout the operation as they confirm requests and then make changes to the levers on the wall.

"If you carefully stand back from this wall, mind you don't topple over the edge, you can see the entire map of the system of movement of ore and other raw materials."

Once you are far enough back, you can clearly see that a full map is formed. It doesn't seem to represent anything you've seen but it is likely displaying conveyors, tubes, and tunnels woven into the walls of the mine. Additionally, there are small shapes traversing the map. These appear to be illusions that represent the goods and materials moving through the system. The six operators remain steadfastly focused on their tasks and take no notice of you or Seraphina.

"My grandmother invented this to help monitor and control the mine's delivery systems. It was a key development for the mine. And, " she points to the lower left corner, "she added that piece there which allows us to bring external resources into the system."

Dhann stares upwards, eyes shining at the sight. “Magnificent…” he breathes. What a map! What information, so clearly and thoroughly laid out. It’s a work of art, functional and brilliantly designed.

He turns to look at the corner Seraphina indicates. “What a mind, to design such a work. Truly, it’s beautiful.” Dhann means it. It makes him smile a little, the wall. If ever he had to describe what his thought process was like, he might point to such a map and say, “This is the closest comparison I could give you, on a good day.”

Clearly also lost in the wonder that is this wall, Seraphina stands, admiring it longer than she intends. Remembering her purpose, she breaks away from her stare and turns to you all. "Now, to the more…secretive part of our tour."

A wave of haughty amusement is sent toward Dhann, with an image of multiple, crisscrossing catwalks, piled high with books and papers, making the little conjured workers - chittery, clattering squirrels - slip and scrabble. If anyone asked him, this is what he’s subjected to being adjacent to.

Dhann tilts his head to physically bump Stout in response, earning a glare. “Yes,” he says, pulling himself away from staring at the wall map. “Without a guide to stop me, I think I’d spend hours just watching this. But…yes. Let’s continue.”

Smiling knowingly, "Trust me, I have." She leads you back into the elevator and shuts the door. With a few flips of the switches and levers, you hear the elevator ascend again. There is a rumbling as the elevator comes to life again and begins shaking as it did. However, after a moment, you notice no sensation of moving upward. The machine finally rumbles to a stop and you look forward waiting for the door to open as it has on other stops. Instead, Seraphina turns around to face you. "Excuse me please." She passes between Ely and Z to the back wall.

She places her hand flat on the back wall and a small panel appears. She slides it open to reveal more switches and levers. She flips them in a specific order and then closes the panel. After a moment, the back wall of the elevator slides down into an unseen pocket.

The room revealed is easily 100 feet across. The air inside is cool and crisp. The floor is made of a shiny marble in a dark green. The craftsmanship is similar to that of the dining room in Castle Waterdeep. In the very center of the room is an elegant desk. The desk holds two piles of papers, a small flame lamp, and a few books. Seated on the other side of the desk is a gentleman in his late twenties, perhaps. His attire is just below the level of nobility. He looks up and smiles at all of you with a pleasant smile.

"Good afternoon, Galdon. I have some guests with me today. I'll be escorting them through the levels."

The gentleman opens a drawer and pulls from it a number of small brooches of some kind, each with a green, marble center and a golden frame. They are roughly the size of coin.

She takes them and hands each of you one. "These will identify you as my guests. Please attach them to a visible portion of your clothing. They will also protect you from the various security measures that separate each floor."

She pauses over each one, cupping it in her hands as she distributes them and you see a slight glow of green in her hands before handing it to you.

As Dhann pins on the brooch, he glances about at the room, the desk, and gives Galdon a polite nod. Galdon returns the nod with a smile and then returns to his work.

The room itself is completely empty. There are a total of three doors in the room, the one through which you entered, the one directly across from you and one on your right. The circular room is actually quite beautiful and the floor reflects beautifully the unseen lightsource that keeps the room lit. There are no windows and the ceiling stretches about 15 feet above you.

After checking that each of you is wearing a brooch securely, she leads you around past Galdon's desk toward the door in the back of the room. She opens it and heads through first, beckoning you to follow. "Whoever enters last, please close the door behind you. The door at the bottom of these stairs will not open unless the one above is closed. Thank you." She descends a curved and elegant staircase.

"I've got it," Tilly says, pausing at the top of the stairs to allow everyone to pass.  When they have, he secures the door and hops down the steps to rejoin the group.

With the soft and secure ‘click’ that meets Dhann’s ears, he follows Seraphina down the steps, giving the Harengon a small nod of thanks.

"Thank you. I won't stop at every floor. Some are very uninteresting. However, this first one may be of some interest or use." She opens the door on the first landing and invites you in.

You enter a very long hallway that seems at least 100' long or more. At the other end of the hall is a large portrait with what appears to be a blank canvas. There is an intersection in the center of the hall with another hallway leading to the right and left. The wooden walls are lined with what appear to be oil lamps but each flickering fire is the color of fresh churned butter, not natural at all.

"Each of the floors can be entered in one of two ways. The stairwell we just passed through is only accessible to us." She points to your broaches. "At the other end of this hall is a portrait. It is a modified version of the mirrors that hang in Ander's study. The portrait can be tuned to depict particular teleportation circles. The circle depicted matches the circle of origin. When the two are paired, an escort will travel through and bring back any required guests."

Along each side of the hallway is a series of elegant doors. At a quick glance, it appears as though there are perhaps a total of twenty. As you stand there, one of the doors furthest from you opens and seven people exit from the room. Seraphina nods at the leader of the group, clearly a staff person of the Silent Vein. Four of the group are dwarves and the other two are goliaths. The group is escorted to the portrait which nearly instantly becomes a teleportation circle. The group steps into the portrait and vanishes. The staff person remains and walks toward you, nodding as he passes and then enters the stairwell and is gone.

Opening one of the doors and beckoning you to step in, "As you enter this room, you may notice that any telepathic connection or ability you have, even with those inside the room, is broken. The room creates a barrier to any mental connections with others. Scrying, telepathy, empathy, and any magic that works through those, such as charm spells, does not work in these rooms."

"It should also be noted that each Whispering Chamber is disconnected from the other and from the hallway. The idea of course, is that for important negotiations, such tools should be excluded to bring balance. The group you just saw departing are from the Spine. They've been arguing for a generation over a small spot of land. They came to the Vein for resolution. Our arbitration is binding and final and completely confidential."

Dhann listens intently, filing this information away, recalling the name of the Spine and mention, some time ago, of altercations stemming from land claims.

“Would such wards have a detrimental effect on familiars?” Dhann gestures to Stout. “He and I were bound through an ancient and unfamiliar magic, so that may further complicate things. But from what I know, the results of the binding are what is natural for familiars as a whole.”

"There would technically be no harm. If he is autonomous, he will continue to be, but you will feel no connection with him nor he with you. Other than being a very confusing feeling, there should be no harm. If he is a magical familiar under your complete control, he will be automatically dismissed, but instantly return as the door reopens.

“In that case,” Dhann gives Stout a bit of a sideways smirk, “he may enjoy the…break.” Preparing for the feeling of Stout’s link with him dropping, Dhann enters the room. He understands certain companions of his may choose to wait outside at their own discretion or due to a pact.

"I'm told the rooms even block prayers, though I've no experience in that area myself. I do know that my power of foresight is also blocked in these rooms so I stay in them as little as possible."

Dhann gives Seraphina a quizzical stare, as if seeing her for the first time, and then looks to everyone else who entered the room. Something certainly disconnected, maybe more than one thing, but… 

“I can’t see your auras.” Dhann looks confused, glancing down at his hands. “Or mine…” He blinks hard, the abruptness of mundane vision returning, quite jarring. 

Dhann looks to Seraphina again. “I can see why you avoid it,” The Cleric says, looking terribly uncomfortable. “I feel no prayer of mine would be heard, but…” He can’t help but stare around at each dull figure, feeling almost blind. “Not being able to see your lifelights disturbs me greatly.” It’s clear from the way Dhann keeps scanning whoever is in the room, that being unable to see the now normal glows makes him extremely concerned.

"Yes. I find it truly disturbing. However, that is one of the reasons we are trusted. People know that if they hold discourse in this room, it is real. And when those who would use magic to deceive feel the departure of those abilities, they become aware of how serious our protections are, and they rarely make any attempt to try other means for fear of being detected. As I've said, secrecy is our biggest commodity." She smiles with a wink.

Dhann’s hands clench and unclench at his side until he opts to cross his arms. “I can certainly appreciate it,” He nods, but can’t help the concerned grimace as he, once again, looks everyone over.

"Your ability then is clearly not an inherent one or relies on some connection to the mind of others. Interesting.”

The look on Dhann’s face shifts a bit more from concerned, to disturbed. “I know I’m not doing this. But who or what, or why...” He shakes his head and unconsciously rubs at his temple with one hand. “I prefer knowing my mind is my own. I don’t know what this is. But somehow when I can’t see the auras, when it happens…it strikes a sort of fear in me I can’t explain.”

“Elyana once cast a protective spell on me, and the sight dimmed terribly and was accompanied by a persistent feeling of illness until the spell was lifted. But I sense none of that, now. I…I don’t know if I even felt anything disconnect, aside from Stout and what bond I have with Helm.” Dhann’s tone is confused. “I’m sorry - we’re here on business. And we can’t be out of this room until that’s finished.”

"I think you completely understand the utility of the room and the completeness of its efficacy. We can move on if you are ready.

“Yes, please. An invaluable utility. The very existence of such is a marvel.” Dhann moves to the door but lets the others exit first, wanting their own potential discomforts alleviated as quickly as possible. 

She smiles and opens the door to the hall.

Glows come springing back, the presence of Helm, as soon as the door is opened and they leave the Whispering Rooms behind, much to Dhann’s relief. Stout makes his disappointment clear as he grouches down on the Cleric’s shoulder, their connection immediately reestablished. More floors, more information, until, it seems, there’s only one door left of the Silent Vein that needs to be truly opened.

"There are a number of other floors that may be of interest but may not be worth visiting personally on this particular trip. We have a workshop where unique magic items are created. We have a rather vast selection of archives on heavily academic works involving magic enchantments and such. Much of it is hypothetical at best. We may need to borrow a few tomes from there depending on how you decide to proceed.”

As she talks, you continue down passing floor after floor. "This floor houses the Veiled. They are a group of highly trained...necessaries, so to speak." Continuing down you finally reach the bottom floor. "Here though, is the true treasure of the Silent Vein." She takes a deep breath before opening the door.

With the Silent Vein containing so, so much already…Dhann wonders just what else might be left to be seen. He has even more questions but puts them aside for the moment, seeing Seraphina’s preparation before she moves into the next room.

As the door opens, the hallway is flooded with a cacophony of sound loud enough to cause a little discomfort. Grinding, rolling, whirring and other mechanical sounds fill your ears.

Stepping forward, you find yourselves on yet another balcony. This one is a little shallower and only extends about ten feet into the room. Stairs lead up from the left side and down from the right.

The room seems nearly impossibly large given what you have seen so far. It is a round room as all of the ones above seem to have been. At the end of the stairs up and to the left, is a small room of sorts. The floor and wall to this room are nigh on invisible, only glints of light give evidence that they exist at all. Inside, four or five people sit at some sort of control station. They are all angled down facing the floor. 

At the far end of the room is a narrow catwalk that connects to another just like it, and then another, and another. There are four such rooms that wrap nearly all the way around the room. The stairs to the right lead downward to a large platform containing a number of desks and chairs and a small meeting table of some sort.

But none of these are as wondrous as what appears directly beneath you.

As the group approaches the metal railing at the balcony's edge, they look down to see a massive circular floor. The floor is colored in rich shades of burgundy, highlighted with browns. At first, it seems to have a compass motif, like the compass rose on a fancy cartographer's map. It is only when the design completely changes that you see what is really going on. 

The floor is made up of a series of circular turntables of some sort. On the outer wall, a series of at least fifteen doors, portals to be precise, glow with different colors that change and pop in and out. As a carriage or wagon rolls in through one portal onto a turntable, it is spun and forced onto the next. And thus, the carts and carriages are moved in one portal and swiftly out another. None of the loads collide and none seem to sit still in one place for longer than a breath.

Raising her voice again to be heard over the cacophony. "It is a very busy day today. Some are busier than others. When things are slow it is much easier to be heard. Here, let's moved down." She points to the area below, down the stairs to your right.

As you descend, you take in more details. Each portal has a small stone with some sort of crystal embedded in it. As the cargo moves toward a portal, the crystal changes color and the field making up the portal does as well. In the very center of the floor, there is no turntable. The intricate design culminates in the center with a fantastically detailed mosaic of some sort. In the center of the mosaic, there seems to be a deep impression or bowl. Inside the bowl and covered with what appears to be the same transparent material as the control room windows, is another stone. It is slightly larger than the others and pulses and dances with color. It is not exceptionally bright but is devastatingly beautiful. It seems to be the central control hub for all the other stones as the pulsing colors seem to be in time with each other, a fact Z would pick up on most quickly.

As you step onto the lower platform, you see another set of stairs back to your left that appears to extend all the way to the floor of the room. Once off the stairs and onto this auxiliary platform, the noise from below is instantly deadened. You can still hear the low hum from the din but it is so muffled as to make regular conversation much easier.

"Welcome, my new friends, to the heart of the Silent Vein."

Dhann stares down into the center of the room and for a time, simply watches. The only word that comes to mind is mesmerizing…that stunning stone in the middle, most of all. The Cleric turns, managing to tear his eyes away from that dazzling heart to face Seraphina.

“And what is it, that this heart delivers?”

Sera leans back and laughs out loud. "A better question, Dhann, is what is it that we don't deliver." She looks down and then back at Dhann, "Those wagons and carts and .. look .. a boat! Haha! Those are filled with all manners of objects and supplies. Some are simple foodstuffs ordered by an impatient noble with more money than sense. Some are no doubt contraband, forbidden by the laws of one region but exported by another. Essentially, if something needs to be moved quickly or secretly, we move it.”

“I suppose, at its core, this part of the operation isn't much more than a standard shipping company. But, I think you'll agree, we definitely have some advantages over sending cargo by ship. Each of those portals connects to multiple others, that one there connects to twelve when I last saw a report. We connect to just under 200 locations across Toril, north to south and east to west. We don't ask questions, we guarantee safe transport, and we are very good at what we do."

"Each of those controllers up there handles a portion of the floor. Some focus on the portals, others on the turntables and others focus solely on potential conflicts and mishaps. The only time we aren't in operation is if there is nothing coming through the doors."

"Some of our clients plan these shipments months in advance while others need things moved quickly and urgently. When I mentioned the Silent Vein saving the lives of entire regions, this is how we did it."

"Each of those controllers up there handles a portion of the floor. Some focus on the portals, others on the turntables and others focus solely on potential conflicts and mishaps. The only time we aren't in operation is if there is nothing coming through the doors. Some of our clients plan these shipments months in advance while others need things moved quickly and urgently. When I mentioned the Silent Vein saving the lives of entire regions, this is how we did it."

Seraphina sits back and just watches the operation for a moment or two. It is clear she still has admiration for it even after operating it for some time.

Even with his face almost blank with admiration as Dhann continues to watch the operation, his eyes absolutely shine with pure delight and utmost respect for what he’s witnessing. The capability and competence of the entire thing is astounding to him, and he can’t help but view it with a merchant’s mind. What a combination of magic and machinery.

“I have no words.”

He runs a hand through his hair, before gripping the railing of the balcony tightly, still staring down at the spectacle. “Entire regions…people? As a means of evacuation?” His eyes snap to Seraphina. “If needed, the heart can be utilized as a form of transport, for people?”

"We can move armies, rations, aid supplies. We can both cause and prevent famine. We can inspire war or peace. We can crown kings and dethrone them. Combining this resource with the ones you've seen above, there is little we cannot accomplish. Among ordinary people, there are few foes who could stand in our way. Among the powerful, there are few who would choose to."

"The transport of living things, people, livestock, etc. is not without complication, but it is possible. But when it comes to other things, if it can fit through those portals, we can move it." As the boat moves through below, the turntables on which it travels instantly open into pools of connecting water forming a moving and shifting river until the boat is on the other side of the room, moving from the portal positioned at three o'clock to the one at seven o'clock.

"There, I suspect that boat may have just traveled from Luskan to Waterdeep in the time we were sitting here."

The scope of control and power of the Silent Vein is wondrous, and downright terrifying. “So…” Dhann says, almost inaudibly, as he watches the boat vanish, “When you said, during our earlier discussion, that there may be another way… what exactly did you mean?” 

Gods…it’s not only an operation, it’s art in motion. He could watch this for days.

At Dhann's question, Seraphina's smile and pride both leave her face. Even her countenance and posture change. She breathes in deeply and sighs. "That." She points to the stone in the floor. "The Luminous Keystone. It is the hub of this room, and most of this operation, for that matter. The Keystone has provided what you see and everything you've already seen. The only thing it is not connected to in some way is the silver we pull from the ground with hammer and chisel."

"It turns the platforms below, it turns the portals, it turns the wheels that operate the hammers above. But, if the legends are true, it also has the power to turn the stars."

An icy chill runs through Dhann as Seraphina grows silent. An odd little smirk, more from irony than any sort of mirth, ticks up one side of his mouth. “What better way to achieve balance…” he muses in a whisper as he recalls Ander’s notes. That letter. “…than to use a power that operates solely from the position of absolute neutrality, as the beam for the scales.” 

“I think perhaps, Lady Trentte,” Dhann quietly says, slipping into Elvish as he turns to her. “we may have found why Ander named you as the last hope, should he be gone.”

The occasion calls for fancy pants and immaculate grooming. Yes.

Z knows these things. In fact, he congratulates himself for his own wisdom. These small preparations are not born of vanity, he thinks, combing his eyebrows for a third time, nor out of a need for adulation. This is Beauty offering itself to itself, and is done so most humbly and reverently.

Z knows he will be just one of the three players in the room, and the least of them in terms of power.  An offering is appropriate, as is the appeal, the request for courage in the face of a very real nothingness. Just the moment of creation: you(s), the loom, and the holy dance that Beauty’s in the mood for.

Z enters the place and sits, imagining the many eyes appreciating him silently. The harp begins to play. A few minutes pass before Z conjures himself, and there is a short dance between Z and Z, the two refining the fluidity of four hands moving before facing the strands set before them. They bow to the apparatus.

The first passes begin.

Pull, pass, over, again, two right and pull pass over again, schlock, schlock, schlock...tight, reset. 

The invisible audience realizes now the relationship between dance and weaving and juggling and the polyrhythms that create and bind them. Z is sure of it. 

Z knows they are not there watching him, of course, as stunning and graceful as Z's movements are, and that in fact they are waiting there for Beauty to arrive.  The show is as always  ...hers.

Pull, pass, over, again, two right and pull pass over again, cross, and schlock, schlock, schlock...tight, reset.

Suddenly, a stray thought that he had lost ran back to him and licked him in the face. “City of Wonder? Of course! We need to host a poker tournament, high stakes, magical trading, intrigue...the random element needed!”

Smallest of hiccups, that thought.

Z’s performance does take great effort and concentration and his work continues for some time, new Z’s appearing as needed. Voiced tones and rhythms occasionally break out over the harp music and there are at least three bouts of guffawing and awe-ing. 

When, after 4 hours Z appears from the place, he is clearly exhausted but in good humor. “It’s got to rest a while before I know what happened, really. Let the fibers relax. I’ve got to rest a while before I know what happened, really. Let my fibers relax. Seemed to go ok. “

What’s been happening? Good meetings?”

Seraphina laughs out loud and is clearly grateful for the break in the tension and the weight of their conversation. "Z you are as entertaining as Ander said you were. He spoke of you all very often." She looks at each of you in turn before returning to the matter at hand.

"That may open more questions than it answers I'm afraid. If Ander knew of the Luminous Keystone and its capabilities, why didn't he just ask? And second, how on earth could he have known. None of these people even know of its true power." She gestures to the workers up in the control booths. "And also, there is the matter of both if and how we will wield it."

Dhann runs a hand across his brow with a sigh. “You’re right. I just…I can’t help but feel we’re on the very cusp of something, if only we could find just what part we’re missing. I’m praying the rest of Ander’s journals will bear a piece of solid information that…” He laughs a little at the comparison. “That is a keystone of its own, and helps us construct a proper plan. Is speaking freely here, in this room, safe? Before I continue.”

"Not as safe as some spaces we have, of course, but yes, this entire chamber is sealed, for obvious reasons, from most magical intrusions."

He nods. “I think it proper you should know, then, that we intend on going to the Shadowfell next. Within the next tenday. Our current intent is to locate the Shadowstone, and - at present - pursue the unlocking of the Dunamantic vault as originally intended.” Dhann can’t help a glance back down at the workings of the Silver Vein’s power source before bodily turning his back to it, leaning against the railing and crossing his arms. “At least, in this way, we’re able to pursue a course of action that hampers the enemy, bolsters our chance of success, and works to spend the time Ander bought us, as best we might.”

“If there’s not time for you and me to read Ander’s journals - although I very much think we must, before I and my companions are on another plane - I can leave the Quill, and books with you. Would you consent to collaborating on them with Maran, if you and I aren’t able to read them first? I admit, though, I plan on reading them at least once through anyway, even if it’s just me, before we go.”

"Well, perhaps it would be best if you read through them first either way. If there is more to be had that may apply to the resources here, you can share it with me. But there may be other information you need more, for your own journeys. Since Ander never mentioned the prospect to me, I have to believe he didn't fully understand why he thought the Vein might be a resource. Perhaps it was just gut instinct. Or, for some reason, he chose not to involve me believing he could handle things on his own. Alternatively, he may have thought the pursuit futile without the other stones you mention, which he didn't have. Perhaps we could return to the grove, if you've seen enough here, and discuss this just a bit more before you depart. It may be beneficial for you to know the legend of the keystone as I heard it."

The Cleric nods. “I would love to see everything, truly, but there’s a difference between want, and need.” He straightens from his leaned posture and turns to look once more down at the stone and the rapid fire transference of anything and just about everything. 

“I think we’ve seen all we need to here, at present. It’s…it is remarkable.” Dhann’s hand moves to gesture at the room but his words encompass the entirety of the Silver Vein.

"I'm sure there will be time over the coming days as we work through these journals for you to see the rest of the complex. There are living quarters, including some guest areas, if you or your companions would like to spend some more time here. Westra only visited twice, that I remember, but her quarters were always kept ready, and they are large enough to host all of you easily."

"For now, let's get back to the Whispering Grove. We also need to establish a way for you to return here easily. The mirror was triggered by blood you do not have so we'll need an alternative path for you at some point. In the meantime though, we will simply meet in Ander's space and return here if needed, if that suits you."

“Yes, thank you - on both counts…Actually - “ Dhann hesitates slightly. “Does the Silent Vein host any sort of chapel, or is there a place I might be able to establish a waymarker? It would require manipulating a bit of stone…and dedication to my god.”

“However…I understand that this may not be appropriate and therefore, humbly defer to your wisdom on the best means of establishing an alternative path.” And then Dhann pauses once more, considering, before adding, a bit discomfited, “Although…a means of travel not based on anything besides objective magic is probably best.”

"In all honesty, your quarters seem like the perfect place for something like that. It is your space to do with as you wish. There are nearby teleportation circles as well. We are somewhat remote, for several reasons. I can also have the mirror modified but that would take several tenday and require the mirror to be here so I'd prefer to avoid that if possible."

Seraphina continues the conversation about your transportation options as she leads you back up the steps. And, as you ascend, you notice very little fatigue while climbing as if the steps themselves are assisting your climb in some way. She leads you back through the long tunnel and back into the peace of the Whispering Grove where everything looks as it did a few hours ago. The attendant stands by the table still and a new assortment of foods is laid with an afternoon tea. Sweets and pastries are mixed among some heavily flavored cheeses and freshly baked crackers still warm to the touch.

As everyone finds a place to sit or stand, Dhann raises a hand to Stout, who clambers onto the Cleric’s fist, looking peeved.

“Would he be permitted to stretch his wings while we talk? I’ve conveyed to him he’s not to hunt here - this isn’t the place for that.” Surprisingly, Stout doesn’t seem too hungry, either.

"Of course. He is more than welcome. The grove is well protected."

The instant Stout registers Dhann’s comprehension of Seraphina’s permission, the snowy launches into the air, thwapping the edge of a wing into the side of Dhann’s head before soundlessly vanishing into the dappled shade.

“Believe it or not,” Dhann grins as he takes a seat, “This is one of his good moods. Thank you.”

She laughs as she watches the owl ascend then turns back to the group. "So, the keystone then. The story that was told to me, that was passed down through our family and through other families like mine is this…" She settles in for the telling.

"Selûne and Mystra created the stone during, of all things, a period where darkness and light were equal. The stone itself was forged from some form of magical crystals that empowered it with magic from the astral plane. Mystra empowered it to harness the weave directly while Selûne imbued it with the power of the moon. This is where the belief that it can 'move stars' originated."

"Initially, it was a literal keystone in a stone archway. Anyone stepping through the archway could simply imagine a destination and would be safely transported there. Purportedly, it had vast powers beyond those as well. The archway was gifted to the material plane allowing travel through the planes. Over the years, the use of the archway changed hands multiple times and, like most powerful tools, was eventually misused."

"Finally, a conclave of Netherese Archmages took possession of the arch. Their goal was pure at the start. They attempted to discover the secrets and inner workings of the arch. As the legend goes, they were terribly close when one in particular chose to betray the others. And, for the first time, the arch was used purely for evil. Through magical means several of the conclave were murdered."

"Mystra couldn't abide it being used in this way and destroyed the arch, scattering its stones across the planes. Over a period of hundreds of years, the stones made their way to each other. Selûne then intervened just before the arch was to be rebuilt. Her enchantments prevented the arch from ever being rebuilt. And she hid the stones deep within the earth."

"The original miners, cutting the mine, accidentally cut into the chamber where the stones were hidden. My ancestors were sent for to assess the stones and their properties. After much study, the current hub was created. It was discerned that the keystone powered the others to do many different things in what we have referred to as 'rotational balance'. Our turntables, the need for its use to remain neutral, and so on."

"And so, we guard the stone and use it to a purpose, always remaining neutral." She pauses. "And, it is the neutrality that scares me most. If we put the stone to use to move the heavens to unlock powerful magic, what will be the balance? Will evil then also be unlocked? Or, has the evil been unlocked, and using the stone for this purpose will bring the world back to balance? My instinct tells me that the answer to this question will determine if the stone works for this purpose or not." Seraphina sips on her cooling teacup and turns pensive, looking to the rest of you for input, thoughts, or guidance.

Dhann rests his elbows on the table, pressing clasped hands to his mouth as he listens. “What you’re describing sounds very much like a set of stones, in a sort of hidden cubby in Ander’s room - a toy version of a stone arch with a more ornate keystone, with a backdrop that’s clearly meant to be this place.” 

He turns to Ely. “I think you have those with you? Would you mind bringing them out?” He looks back to Seraphina. “Your worry for potentially corrupting the keystone’s neutrality is warranted. I wasn’t aware it’s a maintained state as well as a mandate. It makes sense.” Dhann frowns. “And on that note, you should know what transpired - or what Ander says did - in the first attempt in gaining access to the vault.”

Dhann pulls out Ander’s account of the eclipse, reading through it aloud and paying special mind to the part detailing the corruption of the Mythallar, the renting and clashing of the vaults, and their own concerns of Dunamancy’s vault now entrapping Cyric and Elminster. “I was able to Send to Elminster…so I was able to confirm from him, directly, that he battles Cyric in a vault. I fear it’s Dunamancy’s but it’s possible it’s the Supreme Throne, and the Dunamantic vault is still its own.”

“Perhaps…I have considered Sending to him again although I admit my fear is that a moment of distraction would lead to him being killed. But given the state of things…” His face grows dark. “I should have more faith that a simple Send wouldn’t throw such a mage off to that extent.”

"It is worth considering for certain. However, I would caution against revealing information about the keystone. Even Mystra's chosen don't know where it is hidden or that it is currently in use. At least, that is my belief. I'm not sure if Mystra herself chose to hide it from them or if it is Selûne's doing. In either case, we have been specifically warned to keep it hidden. Even Maran may be a problem. Ander knew little to nothing, to my knowledge, about its existence. This grove was as far as he had been."

"But, perhaps the piece that was missing was what Ander continued alluding to, the balance. If the heavens created the balance of light and dark, it would stand to reason that the stones were to create it on the ground. Ander's instinct for these things should not be overlooked, I think."

“What we saw and spoke of within the Silent Vein, will not pass to anyone outside of those present, without my say so. I may be the exemption to the binding of magical secrecy, and by extension, those who accompanied me,” Dhann gives Ely and Z a look of trust and camaraderie, and Tilly, of an accepted companion, sharing new secrets. “But that does not give us the flippancy of speaking freely. If anything, it is a responsibility.” 

“I think Maran will be understanding of our needing to hold ourselves to silence. And as the Whispering Grove is your territory, we swore ourselves to discretion on your terms when we agreed to come here.”

“In Sending to Elminster, I would simply try to ascertain which vault they are trapped in, and what they are trapped with. I dare not reveal anything to him at present, especially given the current state of being locked in combat with the Prince of Lies.”

Dhann agrees with Seraphina’s inclination to trust Ander’s instinct and he nods, saying, “It can’t be coincidence these same phrases and words keep cropping up. I’m not so sure coincidence exists, as we at first understand it.” He bounces his fingers against his mouth, huffing a small, frustrated breath. “We’re close to something. Gods, I can feel it…but close isn’t an arrival.”

"Now that I am closer to these details, I can at least hope the Sight will come and show me a glimpse forward. Unfortunately, my visions are sometimes more cautionary than instructional so we may only learn which course not to take. But, over the next few nights, perhaps I will gain insight."

"The day is growing long, I fear. And you have much to do. I myself will spend some time in our archives pouring over some sources that may help.If you have no more questions or discussions for me, may I escort you back to Ander's?"

“I’m afraid you’ll find the lot of us have questions in an almost endless supply,” Dhann smiles fondly, “And you’ve given much time already. At present, I only have one more, myself.”

“Do you have any insight into the chapel Ander constructed, in his lab? I understand such turning to the gods for a Blackwood is something no prior ancestor did before…and as a Cleric, the emptiness I sense in that space is more haunting to me than the wards of the Whispering Chambers. Yet there is evidence Ander spent much, much time in that room.”

The look on Seraphina Trentte's face instantly changes to sadness. "Hm. I.." She hesitates for a long moment looking into her cup. "I don't think I can provide you with any sort of satisfactory answer." She pauses again, clearly emotional at the question or perhaps at its answer. "Ander referred to the room as the Room of Hopes. He didn't tell me about it of his own accord. I came for a visit and found him there."

"He was on his knees, curled down with his head hidden in his hands. I have never been a woman of much faith myself. I know the gods exist, but their games have kept me from serious devotion to any of them. My sight, I'm told, is a gift from one of the gods. Though, no one has ever made a convincing argument as to which one."

"But I have great respect for those who do follow and serve. I don't think I have the discipline." Another pause as she clearly is bringing the memory forward. "When I walked into the room, and saw him like that, I assumed he was deep in prayer, though he'd never mentioned it to me. I looked at the altar and saw several that I recognized of the Pantheon."

"I joined him, on the floor, bowing to whomever he believed in, I suppose. But, as soon as he became aware of my presence, he turned and jumped into my arms."

She is clearly struggling to bring forward the next part of her story as a tear spills over from her left eye and runs to the top of her cheek. "He was…covered in blood. His arm was…gone. I screamed out at him, ignoring his sadness for a moment to focus on some sort of way to get him to a healer."

"I screamed at him, 'Ander, it's everywhere, your arm! What has happened?' and through his sobbing he explained that he had healed himself for the time being. His wound wasn't bad and he wasn't bleeding. 'But Ander,' I yelled, 'it's everywhere.' and," she pauses and then looks at each of you, "he looked up with those child-like blue eyes and said, 'It's not mine.'"

"I stared at him in disbelief. I begged him to come with me to be healed. But he calmed me with a touch, I assume a spell of some kind. 'They aren't listening.' Three words he said that I'll never forget. He pointed with his remaining hand up at the figures on the altar. 'I've begged,' he said. 'But they don't answer. The silence is so loud.' Gods. Just a boy."

Seraphina's tears have opened now but she is calm. There is no sign of anger, just sadness. "What do you say to a warrior who risks everything? What do you say to a king willing to die for his people? There are no words for either of them. So, imagine trying to find words for a boy."

"I had none. I just pulled him to me and held him. And he kept talking about the silence, the deafening silence." 

"Eventually, he quieted. He told me what he'd been doing with his arm. I had seen evidence of something but didn't even imagine it was this. I looked back to the pantheon and Ander's talk of balance struck me then. He hadn't created a version of Shar. I pointed this out to him."

"I told him that maybe it wasn't about any one of them answering. Maybe he needed the balance he spoke of. I know he ultimately added Shar to the altar but I don't think any good came of it. I tried to mention it to him once or twice more but he brushed it off. And, like it or not, one thing Ander had in spades was the charisma needed to sway a conversation. If he didn't want to talk about something, you rarely had a chance."

She laughs to herself through her tears. "He once stole the last piece of a sweet bread I brought for us to share. When I went to chastise him about it, in jest of course, he managed to switch the topic to my favorite cheese and then, I think to the first pet I'd owned as a child. All while eating the slice of sweet bread right in front of me."

"I know he continued to spend time in there even after all this. The Room of Hopes seemed to remain that for him. I'd find candles burned all the way down and new ones lit in their stead. I added some magical lighting for him to save him the trouble. I don't know if he really found hope in that room. Or despair. But I know he did not find answers."

Seraphina pauses for a moment and sighs and then pulls herself inward. "That's twice today I've found myself in this situation." She smiles and wipes at her nose with her napkin. "I suppose it is nice to have someone to talk to about it. Thank you."

She looks slowly across your faces trying to read and judge your emotions. "You know, I'm not really sure I am bothered too much by an end to all this. If Drezlin succeeds and Cyric returns, I'll be one of the first to go, I'm sure, either in battle or worse. I've been alive for a long time. It has certainly been long enough to see tragedies come and pass. So, in honesty, I cannot say that I care passionately about who wins this particular skirmish."

"But I can say, without a shadow of a doubt, I do want vengeance. It is shallow and petty of me. But, without Ander, I think the world is out of balance."

"I think it is high time that balance is restored."

The fire in the woman's eyes burns as she says this. Then, slowly, she picks up her tea cup, restores herself, and leans back in her chair. She is calm, but the dogged determination does not leave her face.