Today’s snippet, titled “The Forge, pt.3”, is a piece I wrote about my PC in Mark’s Pathfinder Campaign.
      Yes, another multi-part chapter. This one was pre-broken up into 3 bits, so I’ve done the same here, just for ease of reading.
      Be forewarned, there may be mature themes and naughty language below.
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      “I got this,” Sadie said, dropping a heavy purse onto the table. “Three times a charm, right?”
      Athynacious smiled at her. “Absolutely. Is everyone ready?”
      Aravashnial snorted. “Ready for this to be quite done, I imagine. I have a great many duties to perform in service of the city, you understand.”
      Rhiallis wished that Mira was here to deal with the Magister. She had gotten along with him from their first meeting. Everyone sort of gave him wide berth – he was rather prickly at the best of times and after three mornings in this hot forge room, his mood was rather dark.
      “Let’s get on with it then. Close your eyes please.”
      The priest’s voice rose again, as if it had wings of its own. The honeyed words swirled through the air and a different sort of power began to shimmer in the forge. Golden motes of light twinkled at the corner of her eyes and it was all Rhiallis could do to keep her lids closed while Athynacious performed the spell. A warm, clean glow wrapped around them like a mother’s embrace. Tears leapt to her eyes.
      Iomedae… Desna… Sarenrae… Erastil… Torag… Abadar… the names of the good Gods cycled through her mind like a carousel, invoking each in turn, as Athynacious’ prayer reached a poignant crescendo.
      “…is it done?”
      Rhiallis opened her eyes, wet with emotion, and glanced down at Sadie. In unison, they all turned their gazes to Athynacious. The ginger-haired priest was on his knees, holding his holy symbol to his chest. His eyes were closed and for a long moment, he was so still she worried that the spell had killed him.
      His voice was hoarse, but a smile formed upon his lips. “It is done.”
      “All right!”
      “Excellent.”
      “At last.”
      “I told you,” Sadie said, grinning. “Third time did the trick.”
      The chamber had retained its powerful heat – it was an enchanted forge, after all – but somehow the sweat on her brow seemed sweeter now. She wiped her hand across her forehead and sighed.
      “Now, all we require is a very talented – very good – smithy to make use of it.”
      “I may know just the man,” Aravashnial said, pushing his long grey hair out of his eyes. “Interesting fellow. One of the Washburne Clan. Didn’t find much of a welcome in Kenebres, I guess, but that shouldn’t surprise anyone.”
      Rhiallis tilted her head, curious to know more, but Aravashnial did not offer any additional information. He and Athynacious departed first, deep in conversation about how best to guard the device.
      “Well, that’s done. Tomorrow Horgus is taking payment on behalf of Irabeth and the council. I guess we had better be sure our coin is counted out and ready, don’t you think?”
      “Absolutely. We’ve got such plans for this city.”
      Rhiallis nodded. “Drezen will thrive again, that’s a certainty.”
      As long as the Sword of Valor kept the demonic hordes from teleporting too close, as long as our defenses stand, as long as our leaders aren’t seduced and decieved as Staunton was… As long as our luck holds out.
      “It will.” She told herself, frustrated by the fatalistic mentality that had crept back in despite the miracle she had just witnessed. “It will. I know it.”
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Note: Image is “King Jagiello Statue Central” by (Mulligand) from SXC.hu; edited by me