Glade 46, 124
A Senate page met the Great Witch Imogen Ward in the small, soundproof room outside the main chamber where she’d been instructed to wait. He was a young Ork, not yet in his majority and with skin yet unblemished, and clearly nervous. The sunsinger smiled and tried to be encouraging and patient with him as he went down the list of background questions which would be appended to the session minutes.
"Hold on!” the witch interrupted the boy, glaring. It seemed that Norani’s nonsense had somehow gotten this far. "I’m only twenty-seven, got that? Put down twenty-seven, right? Nothing else!”
The page nodded meekly, jotting that down:
Once the initial interview was over, the witch waited patiently in the empty room to be invited in. The sessions of the Senate of Ecith were public, and she could have requested to wait within the chamber to hear those deliberations- but she hadn’t much interest in it. The whole purpose of this meeting was to debrief the nation about what she’d seen, and she preferred quiet before debriefings, so she could go over the notes she kept in her little journal.
After about half an hour, the door leading to the Senate chamber re-opened and another page gestured for her to come in. Imogen rose, carefully smoothing out her black uniform–it was the nicest piece of clothing she owned, and there was little reason to hide it now that Zaichaer was in chaos–before walking into the room.
The Senate chamber itself was huge and drafty, cunningly wrought so that the acoustics of the room would aid in call and response between a crowd which could sometimes number into the hundreds. Imogen approached the podium deliberately, breathing deeply to aid in her private meditations; not being used to public speaking, she found the prospect strangely daunting.
She waited while the small clamors around the room died down, instinctively aware that she should not begin speaking until silence had fallen. Once it had, a Senator she did not recognize opened the questioning:
“Thank you for joining us today, Imogen. Before my colleagues get started with the questions about events, I was hoping you could resolve a curiosity for me. The Windwalker repeatedly calls you ‘the Great Witch’, and I see you’ve listed ‘witch’ as your profession. Could you elaborate on what that means?”
"Oh,” the girl responded, taken aback, "Yes, of course. In the culture of Zaichaer–of central Karnor, really–a witch is a sort of tradesman whom people visit for directions on how to resolve unusual problems. Historically, they were often sort of a mixture of doctor, alchemist and general life-coach, but today things are much more stratified, so people mostly come to witches looking for help with supernatural problems.”
“Along the lines of a consultant in matters of magic, then?”
"Broadly speaking, yes. My coven specializes in abatement of magical threats, dread mists, so forth. As for your second question… I can’t speak on behalf of Norani, but I’ve heard it said that a witch is someone who knows how you can do something, a good witch is someone who can tell you if your desire is a good idea, and a great witch is someone who can help you do it anyway and it all somehow turns out well.”
Another Senator leaned in. “And the matter of Agst'rasera, was that a good or a bad idea?”
Imogen hesitated. "Well…”
There was silence in the Senate chamber, save for the rustling of papers as various erudite Senators compared Imogen’s account to Norani’s, nodding here and there. A few coughs broke through, here and there.
After a few moments had passed, one of the Senators rose, signaling a new question.
“I understand that you have refused the bounty which was offered for your service in this matter. May I ask why?”
“Yes- I made Norani a promise after we met that if she needed any assistance with any monsters, I would do so for free.” Imogen shrugged. "It isn’t that she’d object, but my coven holds that kind of promise absolutely binding, even if all parties change their minds afterward. So I’m afraid I cannot accept any money from that job.”
“And what about your work with the tower?”
"Oh. That.”
"As you can see, I was primarily a passive observer, so it would be unjust to accept payment for that.”
“We can discuss that later,” said one of the older Senators, a light burning in his eyes, “I’d like to know what it was which distracted you from the conversation with the Steward, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Imogen hesitated. "I never quite figured out the nature of the surroundings- it felt like an echo of memory, or some kind of bubble in time. While I was listening to their conversation, I suddenly wondered whether everything was echoed, if you could see anything else beyond the city… specifically, I wondered if I could see the moment where the Dragon Gods sacrificed themselves to preserve Ransera.”
“And could you?”
"I don’t really know.”
There was a puzzled rumbling at that, as senators tried to figure out what she meant. Imogen remembered the moment when the image on her shield had flickered, shifting to a sky wracked by chaotic aether, as the world was giving way to nothing. She’d thought to see dragons, then, the wave of Sundering breaking upon their scales and wings. Instead, everything was incomprehensible in that light of destruction.
"In any event, that’s all I have to report to the Senate. If there are no other questions…?”
“One more question.” said a woman, demeanor preternaturally calm, “Unrelated to those events. I understand that you are responsible for wakening Deravaecia?”
"Eh. Anyone who punishes themselves for three hundred years has probably gotten everything they can get out of it, if you ask me.”
Name - Imogen Ward
Race - Orkhan
Birthplace - Karnor
Age - (Approximated to the nearest millennium)
"Hold on!” the witch interrupted the boy, glaring. It seemed that Norani’s nonsense had somehow gotten this far. "I’m only twenty-seven, got that? Put down twenty-seven, right? Nothing else!”
The page nodded meekly, jotting that down:
Age - (Approximated to the nearest millennium) 27
Profession - Witch
Military service - None
Citizenships - Ecith
Cardinal Runes - Several
Emblems - None
Once the initial interview was over, the witch waited patiently in the empty room to be invited in. The sessions of the Senate of Ecith were public, and she could have requested to wait within the chamber to hear those deliberations- but she hadn’t much interest in it. The whole purpose of this meeting was to debrief the nation about what she’d seen, and she preferred quiet before debriefings, so she could go over the notes she kept in her little journal.
After about half an hour, the door leading to the Senate chamber re-opened and another page gestured for her to come in. Imogen rose, carefully smoothing out her black uniform–it was the nicest piece of clothing she owned, and there was little reason to hide it now that Zaichaer was in chaos–before walking into the room.
The Senate chamber itself was huge and drafty, cunningly wrought so that the acoustics of the room would aid in call and response between a crowd which could sometimes number into the hundreds. Imogen approached the podium deliberately, breathing deeply to aid in her private meditations; not being used to public speaking, she found the prospect strangely daunting.
She waited while the small clamors around the room died down, instinctively aware that she should not begin speaking until silence had fallen. Once it had, a Senator she did not recognize opened the questioning:
“Thank you for joining us today, Imogen. Before my colleagues get started with the questions about events, I was hoping you could resolve a curiosity for me. The Windwalker repeatedly calls you ‘the Great Witch’, and I see you’ve listed ‘witch’ as your profession. Could you elaborate on what that means?”
"Oh,” the girl responded, taken aback, "Yes, of course. In the culture of Zaichaer–of central Karnor, really–a witch is a sort of tradesman whom people visit for directions on how to resolve unusual problems. Historically, they were often sort of a mixture of doctor, alchemist and general life-coach, but today things are much more stratified, so people mostly come to witches looking for help with supernatural problems.”
“Along the lines of a consultant in matters of magic, then?”
"Broadly speaking, yes. My coven specializes in abatement of magical threats, dread mists, so forth. As for your second question… I can’t speak on behalf of Norani, but I’ve heard it said that a witch is someone who knows how you can do something, a good witch is someone who can tell you if your desire is a good idea, and a great witch is someone who can help you do it anyway and it all somehow turns out well.”
Another Senator leaned in. “And the matter of Agst'rasera, was that a good or a bad idea?”
Imogen hesitated. "Well…”
[An excerpt from the Senate Minutes of Glade 46, in the 123rd year of the Age of Steel]
The witness was first questioned regarding her partnership with Norani Windwalker and the genesis of the events which had culminated in the assault on Agst'rasera. The witness indicated that she had met the Windwalker while working for a client, and that this work was–to her knowledge–unrelated to the events of the Eclipse.
She indicated that on or about the second of Glade in the 123rd year of the Age of Steel, Norani had woken her on a beach and asked for her aid in freeing Agst'rasera from unknown forces. The witness agreed and accompanied her through the roots of said tree, although they were temporarily waylaid in the Ataraxian Expanse.
The witness broadly agrees with the Windwalker’s account of the following days up to their travel to Agst'rasera, where she met with the fey man named Destynrael Dromlach’darach. She concurs that the surrounds of the tree were experiencing obvious signs of corruption, and says that the three reconvened near the trunk, where they were met by the god Arcas.
According to the witness, the tree’s roots were mired in living filth, which she diagnosed as a corrupted ooze produced by the incomplete cycle of the seasons, wherein life arose and festered without surcease. The witness stated that she did not believe the ooze to be particularly threatening because it was meant to afflict the Tree as a whole, and therefore posed little threat to something as small as an Orkhan.
Although the witness saw the figure described by the Windwalker, she did not witness their confrontation because they had agreed to prioritize the freedom of “Mr. Gordon” [reviewer: presumably Gorion]. Instead, she teleported herself and Dromlach’darach into the bole of the tree, where she discovered an aetheric nexus between the tree and world at large, and observed several figures imprisoned by vines of shadow.
The witness explains that she and Dromlach’darach were attacked by a void-borne entity which had captured the seasons, which she described as ‘dangerous, but not particularly threatening’, stating that she was able to counteract its properties by converting silver fire into a light which dissolved shadow and corruption alike, burning the rot out of the nexus. Dromlach’darach then summoned Arcas’ power to free the captive seasons, and they fled Agst'rasera but were unable to locate Norani Windwalker.
There was silence in the Senate chamber, save for the rustling of papers as various erudite Senators compared Imogen’s account to Norani’s, nodding here and there. A few coughs broke through, here and there.
After a few moments had passed, one of the Senators rose, signaling a new question.
“I understand that you have refused the bounty which was offered for your service in this matter. May I ask why?”
“Yes- I made Norani a promise after we met that if she needed any assistance with any monsters, I would do so for free.” Imogen shrugged. "It isn’t that she’d object, but my coven holds that kind of promise absolutely binding, even if all parties change their minds afterward. So I’m afraid I cannot accept any money from that job.”
“And what about your work with the tower?”
"Oh. That.”
The witness stated that she arrived at the Western Tower on the 24th of Glade, in the 123rd year of the Age of Steel, and found herself surrounded by pilgrims seeking to move towards it. She ended up joining a group consisting of two men she’d met before and a group from the Ataraxian expanse, including several elves, a human, and Prince Aoren of Kalzasi. The witness claims that she arrived there by accident, having been tricked by enemies whom she was unable to discuss.
Upon arrival, the witness says that the surroundings resolved into what seemed to be a detailed–but severely damaged–recreation of the Clockwork City surrounding the Godspire. The group approached, but was interrupted by the Godspire exploding. The witness states that time stopped and she was approached by an unknown figure who offered to spare her life in exchange for a body, which offer she refused out of hand. The explosion obliterated one of her pact weapons and caused her companions similar spiritual and physical damage, but she relates that two of her companions nevertheless gave the figure what it had asked for, and as a result it transported them within the spire.
Thereon, the group was approached by a mechanical entity which asked them to meet with the tower’s Steward. The witness was stabilized by the group, which then decided to move forward in meeting with the Steward. The witness opted to remain behind, whereupon she was visited by ‘spirits from South Ecith’ which assisted her by re-forging her Pact weapon and healing her wounds.
[Secretary’s Note: the reference here appears to be a slip-up by the witness, who refused to elaborate on the identity of the spirits or confirm what she meant by South Ecith, citing client confidentiality. The witness was willing to swear that she was not and had not been employed by any foreign government in any interest adverse to the Commonwealth’s.]
The witness explains that her re-constituted Pact Shield allowed her to observe parts of the group’s conversation with the Steward, but that she was distracted by ‘religious obligations’ partway through. She avows that the Steward expressed an interest in accumulating aether, and offered to spare the Expanse from its collection if they could provide it from another source. The witness states that the group did not speak to her of the conversation after they returned, and that she had ineffectively communicated with them due to being preoccupied with ‘a thought concerning the Sundering.’ The parties left, and the Tower vanished from the horizon thereafter.
"As you can see, I was primarily a passive observer, so it would be unjust to accept payment for that.”
“We can discuss that later,” said one of the older Senators, a light burning in his eyes, “I’d like to know what it was which distracted you from the conversation with the Steward, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Imogen hesitated. "I never quite figured out the nature of the surroundings- it felt like an echo of memory, or some kind of bubble in time. While I was listening to their conversation, I suddenly wondered whether everything was echoed, if you could see anything else beyond the city… specifically, I wondered if I could see the moment where the Dragon Gods sacrificed themselves to preserve Ransera.”
“And could you?”
"I don’t really know.”
There was a puzzled rumbling at that, as senators tried to figure out what she meant. Imogen remembered the moment when the image on her shield had flickered, shifting to a sky wracked by chaotic aether, as the world was giving way to nothing. She’d thought to see dragons, then, the wave of Sundering breaking upon their scales and wings. Instead, everything was incomprehensible in that light of destruction.
"In any event, that’s all I have to report to the Senate. If there are no other questions…?”
“One more question.” said a woman, demeanor preternaturally calm, “Unrelated to those events. I understand that you are responsible for wakening Deravaecia?”
The witness explained to the Senate that she had been commissioned to return the dragon Deravaecia from her self-imposed exile and comatose state on Ailos, but that she had not been told why and that she could not reveal the identity of her client. The witness expressed that she was aware of the crimes Deravaecia had committed in the past, and had in fact borne witness to the same. The witness opined that there was no actual exile which had been levied on the dragon, and therefore no actual bar to her return.
The witness was questioned as to whether she thought the dragon should be exiled, whereupon she opined that:
"Eh. Anyone who punishes themselves for three hundred years has probably gotten everything they can get out of it, if you ask me.”
Further affiant sayeth not.