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Seeking adventure and finding it: The foundation of Glantri

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I write this next entry from the uncomfortable cell in far away Alphatia, as the guards have finally allowed us parchment and quill.

Felmont 1st. Beginning of fall.
The new group of followers has returned and they have quite a story from the tower of Althasjumites. Helga, Thoradin, Vadric and Alistir. They talk about this shadow Althasjumites, and a wizard who was capturing shadows. It is a fanciful tale, and I am more interested in what will now become of this tower out there.
Later my mind turns to other things. I recall the rumors told by Thaljun and the others of the Vicomtesse Dame Diane de Moriamis, that she has lost her hair and is rather embarrassed by it, and it so happens I have a potion of hair growth. I hire a carriage and head that way.
I am met at her gate by a tall large fellow, he is half cyclopes or something. Eventually I get him to let me in. The Vicomtesse magically converses with me, and after I blunder through trying to politely say “I want to sell you something to get your hair back,” I exchange the potion for 90 crowns. I had a mind to try to get this carpet enchanted, but I realize that is not something to ask of a noble you don’t know.

How I get here in this jail cell, now that is another story. We spent some time relaxing. Rumors flew, talk that Wyther Primroc and others had been slain and drained of life, but it was not exactly true. Deals with the fellowship were arranged, as they wormed their way further into our lives.
It was a comfortable time, but we were itching to return to adventure. Thaljun brought up a big name on our to do list. Professor Scale. We tracked him down with some magic, but everything was odd. He wasn’t in a place, it was like he was moving, in “Alevtinair.” The others guess that this is an airship, I am not so familiar with the names but it made sense. We got prepared to go the next day, but in tracking the wizard again, the spell failed. Odd we thought, but decided it was simply his own magic. We went any ways.
By Al Kalim that was a mistake. As soon as we teleported there, some made stripped away our defenses and invisibility. An alphatia wizard cast a spell locking down everyone else, even Thaljun. I put on a face and demanded Scale as a prisoner of Glantri, but they just surrounded me with spears and crossbows and lead me to the dungeon.
There was little else to do until now. Chained up on the ship, and delivered to a jail cell in Alphatia, there has been little hope since. We did find out that the reason we lost track of Scale is that the Alphatians executed him. It seems he was not working for them as we had thought, a slight condolence.
The others have kept my spirits up and we take the time to learn Alphatian. The days tick by, but they do allow us some comforts. I indulge myself in Zzonga a bit more than perhaps I should. The days have grown weary…

Current time:
After four months, our chance has arrived. An elderly man, General Turanal, opens out cell. He leaves us by our stuff as we are to prepare for meeting the empress. But for whatever reason they leave us alone, perhaps to embarrass someone in their court. We don’t know the mechanism of their politics that gives us this chance, but we take it. We grab our belongings and Thaljun teleports us back home.
It seems our disappearance had caused a bit of a stir. The princes are upset with us, but Thaljun tells the whole truth and we are not punished further.
Our newer recruits have had some ordeals without us. With the princes coming in. Alistair tells us of an Elleroyn elf getting attacked by some sort of shadow wraith thing in public, and how he failed to stop it. Something about a Claymore. We later find that this is part of some Alphatian plot, why are we so mixed up in all of this?

The New Year arrives. 1003 Newmont 1.
Rumors from afar are all bad. Revolts in Thyatia, infighting in Ethengar. Even Irendi and karameikos are not spared the chaos. What sorts of things could be behind all of this?
Also that morning, we find a curious note, telling us to meet its mysterious sender at the Knight’s Rivet tavern. Two days later at the appointed time, we decide to risk it.
We arrive, bringing our newer comrades with us. We get a private room to accommodate us and wait. The man who comes in is unfamiliar to me, but eventually I recognize him from the accounts of the others. This is Rheddrian, who the others rescued from some sort of mirror shield artifact.
He is cautious to begin, but soon, is telling us all sorts of tales from his past and hopes for the future. He says he recieved powers from this shield he has. I don’t really know, he talks and it seems nonsense to me. But then his nonsense starts to sound familiar. He tells us that the Glantri nobles are draining the world of magic. And the immortals are behind this, and this in turn is behind all of these chaotic events in the world here.
He says this is his important mission and wants our help. To which we are all willing, as this is the sort of thing that Thaljun has been striving towards as long as I have known him.
Thaljun replies to him, that this aligns with much of what he has learned. He goes on to talk about the Radiance, and the travel through time. He mentions how he has learned of an artifact, central to the Radiance. He thinks that the artifact is part of a ship and that Rheddrian’s shield is part of that ship.
With that, it is as though the very being of all mystara changed. As though the immortals themselves piked up the timeline and started leafing through the pages. Rheddrian is very excited by what Thaljun has told him. He tells us that the mission is at hand, and we must act now. He gives us all bracers of some sort, odd silver things with specks of light that go on and off. He gathers us all around, and focuses some spell on his shield. We are all holding it, but some wizard with a tiger on his forehead bursts in. He and Rheddrian are flying into the air, but before we can react, there is a bright flash and we are alone in a cave.

The Artifact:
The hair on my neck stands on end. The air is charged some some power. Before us, within the massive cavern, lies an odd grey metal cube, or rectangle. All around it is a scaffolding of red copper with lightning arcing between. Above it, on a massive statue of a wizard man says, “Alexzander Glantri, he protects this.”
We go to the place that seems most like an entrance, a jagged tube protruding from one side. The statue comes alive and we run for the entrance. But before us is an old man, radiating with energy of his own, wearing the typical hat of a wizard. He addresses Thaljun and harshly redresses him for betraying the Radiance, and he himself, Rad.
But then, the very air crackles and flickers, I instinctively kneel down as a gigantic man with flames for hair and eyes descends among us. Ixion, the lord of the sphere of energy! Little do I know of these things and what they in Glantri might believe, but he I recognize. “You have broken the law of the Immortals, Rad.” And with that, Immortals come to blows, I cannot bring myself to even look.
Elias leads the way and we all follow away from the epics threatening to end us. He holds the shield up to the door and it retreats into itself like a sideways portcullis. We make our way into a room, dizzying with its blinking lights going up two stories. Inside all is humming and on the floor are glowing bones, or some creature, perhaps not quite human.
We rush in and I am bewildered, uncomprehending of what we are even aiming to accomplish. Should I destroy everything? Luckily Thaljun seems to have a more clear idea so I wait to take cues from him.
Out from the back, step bizarre suits of armor, like walking abstract statues made by a stupid orc. Thaljun buys us some time with a wall spell, but it doesn’t hold for long. The others scramble behind me, looking at the various windows and lights and knobs. I wait for the wall to fail, and not knowing what else to do, attack.
Saif Husam strikes true, but the impact is minimal. Behind me, Alistair is the first to fall. My only hope is that I may draw their fire if I can make myself a threat. But despite my blows, they continue their barrage of magical/mechanical fireballs and smoke and lightning, against the party as they tinker with the ship’s controls.
Helga is the next to die behind me. Were we to know that we would fight the very immortals, they might not have been placed in this harm. Then a concussion knocks me back, and I fall by the others. The world is a blur of my friends running. Thaljun shouts that they’ve done it. And he grabs me along with the others and we fly.
The rest is like a dream, Rheddrian appeared by us, and we stole away as the ship seemed to burst with energy. Even Rad and Ixion stopped as the artifact was destroyed, or so I thought at the time.
Rheddrian himself, it so happens, was an immortal. Or became an immortal… He healed those of us who remained and gifted us things as an immortal may. I relied on the others to explain what we had done to the artifact.
It seems that it was drawing power from energy, the sphere of magic, and Elias and Thaljun used the shield and their wits to change it to drain power from entropy’s sphere. And so the Radiance still exists, perhaps. And the world is a better place for it?

Last time we made the immortals aware of us, the consequences were… dire. What have we done now?

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