Gwendolyns perky new eyes widen as the wholescale devastation of whatever reality they occupied was torn asunder by the so-called Fae Queens death. Another god, another season. It felt like they were dying faster than they could be made these days honestly. But now was not the time to posit on whatever forces above, now was the time to run.



She jogged over to the crumbled stone fort that had saved the maids from certain destruction, grabbing Jess’s awestruck form and jerking it towards an exit portal. Knowing her, she would probably just stare at a collapsing portal as it ripped her very being from existence and just think it was neat. Or was that Mori? Regardless, a sprint in the midst of danger was still stopped to slap Lady Keyke Runi on the back.



“Sick blessing. I still do it betterrrr” She said, running past in a rush to get out before the whole plane collapsed.



Outside, the devastation was significantly lesser than she expected. How the hell was she supposed to take credit for a crater and some dead wildlife. At least the knights seemed relatively appreciative.



“Yes, yes, settle down. You are all welcome, you can forward any thank you notes or donations to “Mystwud Estate, Center Coldwood, Frost Gale””

Morrigan Moonweaver was not often someone who won.

Not on their own, anyways.

It was in the leech’s nature to build their success off the backs of others - how terribly easy it was to pin one’s self to a sucker and let them do all the hard labor, ignorant to the unwanted passenger. To drain it of its life force, its very essence. It was the cunning who built their thrones on the backs of others, and stole success from right under their noses. And as far as parasites went, Morrigan was the best of the best of them. How else was one supposed to build a reputation of greatness without stealing greatness from others, after all!

Startlingly, as the dust settled and the fae queen’s body hit the ground, becoming black ichor that returned to the eart, Morrigan realized that this decidedly wasn’t that.

… Huh.

Morrigan hit the ground, sandals squelching in the coal-black ink that had once been the fae queen. Bone-tired, vision blurry, and covered in blood, glitter, and kelp, they dipped into a deep, showman’s bow. “And… scene!”

They straightened just as a tiny black projectile came hurtling at them. Morrigan yelped, raising their arms to protect their face; all the while, incidentally catching a Fish in the process. Well, that was one life taken care of. They glanced up at him, as nonchalant as ever, before raising their hands and signing a quiet hello.

Morrigan huffed out an incredulous laugh.

“I've heard of it raining men, but never raining birds!"

It was a testament to how tired Fish was that they hadn’t stabbed Morrigan yet. In fact, they had yet to do much of anything at all, leaving the onus of action to Morrigan. They merely stood there, too relieved they’d survived to put Fish down or move. And that was how they stood. At the end of it all.

The fade to black, the romantic ride into the sunset. For all Morrigan had read about epics and heroic ballads, victory was decidedly less glamorous. All it carried was the smell of rotting brine and the unbelievable pressure in the air, making their ears pop, their world spin, the blood in their veins boil as the world collapsed inwards - when all they could do was turn on their heels and break into a dead, frantic sprint to freedom -

Okay, this was the rather unglamorous part of heroism that would definitely be getting embellished in the edit.

The rest of their contributions, though…

Those were unequivocally real.

Exhausted as they were, they tripped - stumbled - clawed their way to freedom. The realm was a blur around them, one where iridescent shifting tones became vibrant greens and browns. Nothing of that false world where the controlled knights had attempted to arrest them. Without the queen bitch to keep the illusions afloat, her reality couldn’t maintain itself, either. Morrigan hadn’t been killed by her. They wouldn’t be killed by her false world, either.

The hair on the back of their neck stood on end as that unmistakable feeling settled in their core. Pure, uncontrollable wild magic - it swirled and thrashed, folded inwards upon itself. Once, twice, thrice… and then it was gone, having consumed itself in its madness. Their mortal coil’s sorry excuse of an adrenaline rush finally withered and died, and Morrigan wheezed, collapsed to the grass, their lungs burning like the king of demons himself had lit hellfire underneath their ribcage.

Oh, but how the pain reminded them that they were alive to see the end of it.

…

And life moved on.

The Knights of Duros had been snapped out of the otherworldly influence the fae queen held them in. With nowhere else to go, surrounded by the remains of Deeptusks and their fake counterparts, they made the command decision to regroup in Thunderhoof Village. Morrigan’s instinct was to slip away and avoid law enforcement entirely, but their regular scummy caution was won out by their desire to give as much detail about their heroism as possible.

Later, Morrigan would give their statement to the knights, all while flashing their own credentials as a hero of Galavance. Later, Morrigan would stare up at the sky and think about the fact that their curse had actually been useful - been powerful. Strong enough to overpower the queen of raw magic herself, to drag hr [ride through the mud, and it felt… good.

Moments that were far away and distant - accolades that could be celebrated another time, over drinks and merriment. For now, their eyes met Kvasir’s across the crowd, and their nose crinkled as they smiled at him.

I’m glad you’re okay.

There was so much more they wanted to say - the words I think I love you on the tip of their tongue, and right in this moment, Morrigan felt worthy enough to say them.

And then their head turned into a goose.

Javal smiles as the Fae Queen gets destroyed, his clothing and blade now completely covered by glitter and black goo. However it is no time to celebrate just yet as the realm they were standing around in begins to collapse, and things are begging to crash down around him. That’s the signal to begin running out of here and booking it and the fellblood does just that, touching the bottom of his sandals and covering them with a layer of ice. Zooming through the field at an incredibly fast rate, Javal jumps through one of the portals with Nadia quickly following behind. Deciding to help out and making sure everyone makes it out safely he stays near the portal’s entrance. After making sure everyone has been accounted for he turns around and sprints away from the portal as it explodes behind him pushing him forward until is a few feet away.

The fellblood would jump back up to his feet and yell out, “Woah that was freaking awesome, let’s do it again”.

Nadia dusting herself off of the dirt and grime would scowl as she said, “No my liege, LET'S NEVER DO THIS EVER AGAIN”.

After cleaning themselves up from all the dark goo and glitter, Javal went to mingle with people nearby. First giving the knights a long-winded speech and scolding for being mean and unreasonable. He would then give his testimony, “We were fighting you guys because you guys were being weird then these portals popped up. This fellow named Marion opened one of them up for us and we entered the Fae Queen’s abode. Many adventurers consolidated there and we all just beat her up with our combined strength. She then exploded into black goo and the portals closed. It was incredible and I’m honored to have fought with such strong heroes”.

After that he headed around greeting his friends and familiar faces he saw from Kamille, Morrigan, Gwen, Shitakibo, and others.

“Good work everyone we have defeated the Fae Queen everyone really worked together and did their best. It was an absolute honor and privilege to fight alongside every single one of you. Truly everyone I see before me is a paragon of justice and goodwill, cheers to Charon's heroes and cheers to victory”, he would then go around and give everyone celebratory high fives and fist bumps before heading back home to Thorock.

Sat on Kamille's cloud, Cypress watches the entity slough into a thick, black ichor; she almost cheers, but then the sky above shatters like a broken mirror and the world starts to feel wrong. The ichor bleeds into the water below and turns it black. "Uhhh," she hesitates, looking up at Kamille with wide eyes, "That's bad, right?"

As the adventurers flee from the realm-shattering blow, Cypress remains with Kamille - hurrying out and assisting who she can if she can - and making it to the other side of the strange plane that those portals had brought them to.

The long grass of Thunderhoof rustles as a light wind blows, as if nothing strange here had ever occurred. The adrenaline of the fight has already begun to wear off, but as Cypress looks around at a world familiar and comfortable, she feels the overuse of mana hit her like a rogue wagon.

Seeing Astrid rushing over to her, though, gives her a second wind.

"Astrid!" she half whines and half calls, trotting towards her to meet her halfway; she gratefully clings onto Astrid in a hug and burrows her face into her shoulder. "M'hm. I'm so glad you're okay." she whispers, squeezing her tight, but reluctantly taking a step back if only to look Astrid over. 

Her armour has been battered, but she looks okay...

"Oh-" she squeaks when she's suddenly scooped into another hug.

She squints her eyes shut, giggling sheepishly as she receives a small kiss on the forehead from Kamille, and promptly flusters. "Th-thank you, miss... granma Kamille?" she stutters, cheeks flushed when she looks back at Astrid, "Yeah! I mean, well... she gave me a scroll and I think that made the fireball - but yeah! It went right to the weird water lady!" The satyr bounces on the flats of her hooves, "It was so cool! I mean, it was horrifying and I'm so tired - I don't know how you do this all the time! - but!"

She takes up Astrid's hands, squeezing them tightly, blue eyes twinkling, "I used my magic, and - and it wasn't perfect, but it worked!" Cypress giggles; she's... well, she's proud of herself! It's not a feeling she feels often, but... it's nice. It's good.

When Astrid mentions that they could spend the rest of their date helping out. She's real tired, admittedly - but she nods anyways, "I like the sound of that." she agrees warmly before leaning forwards to press a kiss to Astrid's nose.

... and she jumps a little when Buttfellow's arm falls off.

    The light after the blast shutters through me and others, letting me peek to see the destruction happening. Well, that is the best escape route for me. I grin and snap my fingers, signaling Rose to get to me quickly. Luckily, not too fast of a collapse was happening compared to some destructive scenes I witnessed. I feel the slap on the back and grin at her teasing; after all, I did merely copy her, not so much as learn how to process and master it.

    Rose lands on my bag and holds on, my mini-me clutching her close on the back, too. I flick my eyes around the space and rush forward as everyone else is to escape.

    Clone 1 grinned at the others leaving. With a clap, she summoned a notebook and started writing down information. With a grin, she handed it over to one of the guards. "Here! I like to note down anything I learn or notice, so I'll get to writing things down and report it back later when it's neatly done. That's how to contact me later. Your higher ups will understand." She gave a little wave.

    Clone 2 watches the chaos and begins cackling as she watches the variety of ways everyone leaves the portal. Both clones stand completely still as I exit the portal.

    All at once, they shatter to the ground as my appearance shifts back to normal before rushing to the shadows again—an exit not unlike the entrance. A voice vibrates lightly in my head, whether my own thoughts or not, I can't be sure.

Chaos is simply a useful and fun tool in this game of fighting and acting.

Vail's stance relaxes as the colossal fae queen begins to collapse into pieces. It's a pitiful end for such a powerful being, who is reduced to a mere puddle in the face of the adventurers’ shared might. As the veil containing this realm begins to collapse, Vail dashes through one of the tears, emerging onto the soft grass of the King’s Valley on one knee.

Rising to his feet, the ashlander silently observes as the rest of the adventurers successfully escape as well, allowing himself a moment of peace as the last of his anger finally quells. When the final familiar face emerges, at least to these eyes, he sets forth to Thunderhoof village, knowing whatever reward Vail seeks for their collective endeavors likely awaits him there.

Stepping foot into the village, Vail notices an assortment of knights intercepting the arriving adventurers, barraging them with questions in a desperate attempt to form some manner of story for the crown. The ashlander isn’t spared from their attempts either as a plucky younger knight trots over to bar his path. “Excuse me sir, may ask what happened to leave you in such a state?”
Vail shoots the oblivious young knight a cold, hard stare, one that clearly communicates the obvious answer he failed to pick up on. Pushing past the knight, the ashlander continues venturing towards the center of the village until he notices his fellow adventurers beginning to congregate. After a brief moment, Vail’s head suddenly drops, before slowly rising upwards with a groan.

“Ughhh, guess that wasn’t a dream after all.” Vail groans as he clutches his back, scanning around the village he suddenly found himself in. Catching sight of some familiar comrades, the wounded man stammers over in the direction of Kvasir and Morrigan, the latter of which seems to have their head transformed into that of a goose; hopefully not a side effect of whatever transpired in the veil.

“Looks like everyone made it out in one piece, for the most part. Anyone figure out where the nearest tavern is? I’m gonna need to buy the doc here a drink for all the work he needs to do.” Vail states as he greets the group with a half-hearted smile.

Straightening his posture, the ashlander makes a sharp hissing sound as his back protests its current state of being.

“Yep, gonna need something strong for this. Who is down for a party? First round of drinks is on me.”

I didn’t get my answer. By the time the syllable left my mouth, it was swept away by the wind. Explosions flashed across the fae’s body, making her look like she was sparkling from a distance (and not just from the glitter bomb). Black blood oozed from her head, arms, torso, gushed from the sword that’s been plunged into her, dripped from her kelp-like hair as she rejoined the swamp.



I’d only heard the sound of breaking glass above me when in the next instant, space imploded.



The winds ripped me to and fro as I twisted flipped to try and find some semblance of orientation. Around me was a twirling kaleidoscope of color. Little shards of blue sky, smoke, grassy plain, water and void whipped by as nonsensical gravity beat us in a mixing bowl of space.



I blink and I’m lying in the middle of a grassy plain. The breeze that brushes across my face is clear of smoke, the grass beneath my wings is damp and the sun shines in my eye. Looking around, it takes me a second to realize we're back where we had been fighting Deeptusks and vine-mimics. A troop of knights is here, helping adventurers get up and about, and giving medical aid to those who need it. No more glitter, no more bubble, and the grass was a normal combination of yellow, brown and green. I heard a knight jogging up to me, and I sat up to greet them. There were 2 of them, who flinched and stopped abruptly some two meters from me. I grimaced, the demonic energy must have gotten stronger again. I really don’t want to have to go into seclusion again…



“Hi, I’ve got a cut but-” I approached them casually and did my best to reign in my aura. It was a little soon for me to take off the mask- emotions and adrenaline from the fae and using demonic arts after a long hiatus still running high, and the mask helped me ground myself, but I hadn’t thought that it was scary enough to warrant them darting away before I finished my sentence.



They’d muttered something about necromancy. …Maybe I was laying on the ground too long and they thought I was dead?

Oh thank the long-deceased gods, it’s over.

It’s hard to pay much mind to what happens next– to the dissolution of the queen, to the lake of ink that seeps into the earth, to the way the colors swirling in the semblance of a sky crack like a shattered mirror, the very pocket of reality they all occupy collapsing in on itself like a glass tower on unsteady ground. Kvasir feels the knowledge bubble up, the understanding that he has to turn and go, get out before it all crumbles to dust– but he feels as though he watches himself do it, his limbs moving on their own to carry him back to safety.

There’s a surge of triumph that flutters through him, like a butterfly in spring– there’s the weight of exhaustion that drags him along, like the resistance of roots unwilling to leave the safety of the earth. They coexist in the same reluctant, near-paradoxical space, and they can continue to mingle however they’d like; Kvasir can unpack all of those feelings later. For now, he has one priority: getting the hell out.

And get the hell out he does– back onto stable earth and familiar sights, mid-summer wind and the blanket of sunlight over the grassy plains.

And as soon as he steps foot onto stable ground, for just a moment, he lets himself fall right onto them.

Kvasir rolls onto his back, wincing just a little as the glare of the sun strikes him right in the eye, but it’s nothing he can’t fix by lifting a hand up to shield himself from it; sunlight halos the outline of his hand, filtering through the spaces between his fingers, but he can’t really bring himself to care. He’d gone relatively unharmed, especially compared to some who’d opted for the front lines, but oh, does his body still ache, resonant with that dull sort of pain that festers bone-deep, refusing to let you forget that it’s there.

Laying down right there in the grass doesn’t make it go away, of course, but it’s some sort of relief– gods, especially considering how long he’s been standing. As much as he loves traveling, it’s not like he can stay on his legs for too many hours at a time– he used to be a lot better at it a few years ago, when he still lived as a nomad, and oh, when he thinks about how long ago that feels like that was and how few years it’s actually been it truly does make him start to feel old–

Ugh. The last few things Kvasir wants to think about right now are things like the passage of time and age and change; he really should go and handle some more… current worries.

With a quiet groan, he picks himself up off of the ground, taking a moment to stretch his legs before glancing through the sparse crowd for a particularly familiar set of faces– a rather easy achievement, considering one of them happens to be purple. A frown splits Kvasir’s face as he assesses the damage on their body, but… that’s something he can handle rather quickly; the talking-to they’ve earned is another matter entirely.

He’s got a thousand words he could say already; he could launch into a lecture on the spot, babble on with a do you know how much you scared me, how many times must I tell you not to risk your life, you are in so much trouble, you will never hear the end of it, please don’t do this again, please–

But then those blue eyes meet his, and they shoot him an all-too earnest smile, and any lecture Kvasir could’ve given them dies in his mind.

You’re ridiculous comes to mind instead. I love you too much for this, you know.

Those die in his throat, too.

“...you two,” he sighs as he marches right over to Morrigan and Fish, who hops down from Morrigan’s arms and… hops off in the direction of the ichor. Of course. “...You’ll never spare me any stress, I see. At least you’re conscious.”

Kvasir undoes the clasp to his satchel and pulls a potion from within it– one with a clear, almost foggy liquid within it– and promptly pops the cork, before lifting his hand to the golden rose pendant hanging from his neck, carefully undoing a cap at the back and letting loose a few drops of an ice-cold clear liquid. [1] [2] A cold mist starts to pour from the top of the vial, fanning out around the area, and gradually knitting together the wounds of anyone in the nearby area.

“...Gods above, you and I need to have a talk when we get home– Fish too, probably, if they don’t slip away again–”

…and midway through the next sentence Kvasir gets through, seemingly out of nowhere, Morrigan’s head turned into a goose.

Ah. Fun.

“...we need to have a talk when we get home, and you are no longer a goose.”

---

1. Gwen's Miasmic Catalyst

2. Essence of the North (get healed!)

Conclusion

The battle is over, and Thunderhoof was spared whatever disaster would have befallen it should all those who risked their lives not be at the right place at the right time.

During the following days, the Knights of Duros conducted a thorough investigation of the battlegrounds and collected as much information as they could. Though given their mind-controlled stare during the events that led up to the arrival of the adventurers, an internal investigation is sure to follow. Rumor is that the Knights of Galavance may be facilitating the interrogations of the Knights of Duros who were under the Fae Queen's spell.

Dormant portals into the Land of Wonder open and close irregularly, leading to continued chaos as creatures entering Charon from them interact with the general populace. The Crown’s ability to maintain order sees a sharp decline as regional and Imperial forces struggle to protect the citizenry.

The Knights of Tegrid and the WEF receive extra support in order to prioritize finding more of these rifts to the Land of Wonder to assess them for any large scale threats that may traverse the veils into Charon.

The Mage's Guild and Golden Consortium receive additional financial support from the Crown to bolster increased efforts to research the strange magic utilized by fae powers. It is through their research that the identity of the entity the adventurers vanquished has been uncovered.

The massive fae entity known as Setryd was an anomaly amongst even the Fae. While it referred to itself as a Queen of Kelpies, it was not in fact part of the Land of Wonder’s Seasonal Courts, thus its rise to power was merely happenstance and the monarchical title entirely self-proclaimed.

It's theorized that this entity may be related to creatures like morphleons and mimics due to its shapeshifting, though it clearly had more intelligence and was able to practice various domains of magic itself. It also has similarities with oozes, able to split itself into multiple pieces that can act independently from the whole. Unfortunately, there was no body of the creature to collect from the battlegrounds, so further research into its biology and the extent of its capabilities will yet remain a mystery.

This ever-ravenous being grew more powerful by feeding on the magical energy of Charon, and even its denizens. It has been tied to other instances of strange fae incursions across Charon that introduced new creatures to the realm never documented before. It's unclear if the lost knight found in Sunset Glade in King's Valley may also be connected to Setryd, though given the entity's use of space domain magic it is not out of the realm of possibility.

The Crown is particularly concerned about the ramifications of magic that can be used to mind control political figures in power and also the city-spanning illusions that have physical implications could prove to be disastrous for Charon if left unregulated.

Despite the Crown's efforts to restrict the practice of fae magic, many mages have already found ways to add it to their repertoires. Magic in Charon continues to evolve at a rapid pace, whether the bodies of authority want it or not.

With the Crown supported guilds so overtasked, there has been an opportunity for privately owned and operated guilds to make a mark in the world. For better or worse, Charon is entering an age of growing instability and independence from the long ruling monarchial powers.

---

THIS CONCLUDES THE RAID EVENT

Thank you to all participants for your patience and dedication to the event. 

Make sure you claim/record your 1 Renown and Unique crafting material for participating in the event!