<div dir="ltr">Chapter 1: Folio Foils (late May, 708) The inside of Misha’s room was well lit and comfortable. Two figures sat in it, examining folios full of drawings. One was Misha himself, the foxmorph dressed in casual clothing. He had obviously been through battles–there was a scar on the left side of his face that ran from his muzzle to his ear, narrowly missing his eye. Where his left ear should have been stood a metallic one instead, close in color to his fur (with distinct, darker tip and lightly painted interior to try and match his other ear) but obviously distinct. A knife scar was clearly visible through the fur of his left arm. It ran almost the whole length of Misha’s arm, and his right hand had been mauled as well. Two of the fingers had mechanical replacements in dark bronze, but otherwise seemed to act like normal. The other was a human. His skin was a rich brown, his hair black, and his eyes hazel flecked with gold. His clothes were the type common in the Pyralian Confederation. His name was Lodovico Buonarroti (insisting on a shortened name of ‘Lodo’) and he’d not been at the Keep long enough to be Cursed yet. Lodo put down the folio he’d been looking through and began to pace. Misha noticed him get up. “What’s wrong?” “This doesn’t feel right. I came here to see both of you and now…” He walked over to the window, absently tracing a finger down the pane, following the path of a trickling raindrop. The sky above the Keep was a leaden gray, and a slow, steady rain draped the city, as if the whole Valley was in mourning. “To hear that he had fallen to the daedra, then returned warped and maddened? In such a mental state that he destroys nearly everything in his reach?” “You’re right. It shouldn’t happen. In a perfect world, people would not be compelled by spells or possessed by demons to do things. But this is not a perfect world. You can take solace in that Drift is unlikely to stand trial, much less be executed for what happened. He was, and still is, clearly out of his mind.” Misha sighed. “We must have faith. It may be part of Eli’s plan: Perhaps Drift must go through this to be tempered, to achieve something greater than either of us can now know.” “But what if he doesn’t survive? What if what has been lost cannot be regained?” “All the more reason to go through what we have here. If Drift returns to himself, he will appreciate our efforts. If he doesn’t…well, what he has created will not be lost, and it will help defray the costs of his care.” Lodo sighed and turned from the window to look at the fox. “You’re right, of course, but it was a knife in the heart to learn of his madness. May Eli heal and guide him.” He returned to his seat and picked up the folio again. As he looked closer, his brow furrowed in puzzlement. He traced his finger under a line of writing, eyes narrowing. “This is odd. The drawings are similar to Drift’s. but the handwriting is much different.” Misha got up and went to look. There were some distinct stylistic differences, most notably the notations. “Hmm…oh! I remember! Drift mentioned an uncle who was also an inventor. I’ll bet these are his! Drift would be happy to know they were saved!” Lodo smiled. “Ah, that explains it! Talent often runs in the family.” He continued going through various schemas and designs. While most of the page was dedicated to them, here and there around the edges there were various doodles or seemingly unrelated notes; a creative mind organizing as it went. Finally Lodo stopped. “Misha, what do you make of this?” He held up a paper, yellowed with age, and creased lengthwise from long ago being folded into a narrow bookmark. “It’s a blank sheet.” “Yes, but it’s practically at the heart of the folio. The devices have been getting steadily more complex, more unusual, but this blank makes no sense.” Misha nodded. “It does seem odd. Madog found that in Drift’s family Canticle and was very insistent that it be kept with these. Yet, I’ve never known Drift to leave something blank and it seems his uncle was the same way. Put it aside for now and finish the folio–it’s the last one. We can figure out the mystery after we’ve finished.” It wasn’t too much longer when both had finished their categorizing. If the end had been reached with a bit more haste, it was not less well-done. But now they both looked at the blank page with curious eyes, unfolding the aged page with great care. It was a large page, neatly folded into fourths along the long axis. Holding it to the light showed nothing at all. “This is the only blank in any of the folios,” said Misha. “And Madog insists it holds a secret.” The fox frowned. “One I have yet to figure out, unfortunately. There’s no sign of magical influence on it, as far as I can tell.” “Hmm. That does seem to rule out spellcraft, but there are mundane means as well…” He paused and his eyes widened, then flicked over to Misha where they found a matching expression. “Lemon juice!” they said in unison. *** “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” asked Misha. He rubbed his eyes again. The device on the page was technically simple but what it promised was almost too good to believe! “Indeed, and I’m still taking in the import of it! What a mind! This device could change everything!” “That may be why it was hidden. His uncle could have feared someone coming across this and destroying it. But now that we see it, I think we can create it! There are folks here that would have the raw materials anyway.” “Where shall we construct it?” “My inclination is here, but I have a feeling that Caroline would not appreciate it.” “I don’t think inside the habited areas would be a good idea; it’s likely to make noise. Are there any vacant buildings?” “Hmm. I can’t think of any off-hand in the Keep Proper, though one may have grown.” “Yes, I’ve heard. You must have fun trying to map this place.” Misha chuckled. “Variety is the spice of life! But first, let’s see if we can get the parts for it. I think the winery should have a spare press for the center. If not, I can make it myself.” Lodo nodded. He grabbed a large satchel and gently placed the precious instructions inside. *** They had only started out when a voice called out. “Papa! Papa! Come see what I found!” Behind them on the stone street of the Keep was a magnificent automata shaped like a fox! Lodo had heard of Madog, of course, but seeing him was a different thing! He was simultaneously excited at the sight of the magical creation and puzzled how something that large could have snuck up without a sound. Then again, the gentle clacking of claws would be easily covered by the general noise. “Alright Madog. Lead us to your discovery!” Misha seemed amused and Lodo followed in some confusion. Madog stayed just in sight until they reached some buildings along the walls. One was a short, ornate building with a marble balustrade along the roof. There were four dog-faced statues with oddly short noses on each corner. Overtop the front door was an emblem of a silvery quill pen and inkwell carved out of the wood. “That’s the Writer’s Guild. It used to be the old barracks.” said Misha. “I see. That building next to it seems to be of the same style. Is it some addition?” Indeed the balustrade on the roof matched exactly, as did the statues. However, the plaque above the door was blank. “No, that’s definitely new. And a hint. Kyia wants the press here.” “Odd how this place works.” “Well, Kyia can control the Keep Proper. We think it’s part of the overall defense. She has no such ability with Keep Town, though.” “In other words, someone bearing ill will could walk through the Keep Proper forever and never find anything.” “Yup. The Three Gates are here too. I’ll show them to you on our way to the first place.” —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- </div>