Franz Lohner's Chronicle - The Auric Bastion
An absent-minded man of mysteries, Franz Lohner relies on his bulging journal to keep track of occurrences, intrigues and arguments around Taal's Horn Keep. Sometimes his notes are even useful, believe it or not. The Franz Lohner Chronicles are extracts from that journal.
Well, that’s the Night of Masks over and done with, and not a moment too soon. Wasn’t Kerillian’s fault, if you can believe that. In fact, she and that silvered mask of hers never showed their faces. So I hear, she spent the whole night out by a broken waystone a couple of leagues away, mask in place and whispering to herself. One of the lads had the temerity to follow her, and came back white as a sheet. Unperforated, so he got off light.
Anyway, about the Night of Masks. Things were going fine right up until the point Kruber, drunk three-quarters of the way out of his skull, clambered up onto the Sigmarite Temple’s steps, proclaimed “I’m the Bloody King of Masks, ain’t I?” and promptly took it upon himself to play at matchmaker. All went a bit disorderly at that point, even before he started … well, ‘singing’ doesn’t quite fit, but it paints a picture.
All Bardin’s idea, apparently, who in turn had it put in his head by Catrinne, who’d rather been hoping Saltzpyre might show his face down in the village so Kruber could give him an obliging nudge in her direction. All for nothing, in the end, as Kruber passed out rather quickly.
But it’s not all bad. Speaking of our resident pointy-eared reprobate, she seems to have given up stashing mysterious charms about the place. Or leastways, she’s hiding them better. I’ve stopped having those recurring dreams about the snakes. Been replaced by crows, for some reason, but I don’t mind that so much, even if some old hag’s cackling in the background the whole time. Sounds like a cross between my old mother and Olesya, and if that’s not a thought best left unexamined, I don’t know what is.
Losing my thread again. Where was I? Oh yes, Saltzpyre.
Yeah, so poor old Catrinne’s efforts came to nothing. And it’s not as if Saltzpyre was ever going to drop by the masquerade, not with things being the way they are. I mean, a year ago, sure. He’d have been stalking between the fires, nose twitching for heresy, and hectoring all and sundry for their cavorting with unseemly foreign customs – fun enough in its own way, if you’re a sociopath. But for weeks now he’s spent every moment of spare time locked into this research project. He’s been looking paler than ever – if that’s possible – and barely eating enough to keep a mouse alive.
Reckoning enough was enough, I finally asked him if I could have a word.
Turns out that Balthasar Gelt – Supreme Patriarch of the Colleges of Magic, and walking cautionary tale as to why one should handle black powder and fulminating chemicals with extreme caution – has taken it upon himself to create a great big bloody wall between Kislev and the Empire.
The Auric Bastion, he’s calling it. Well, I imagine someone else figured out a marketable name. Gelt’s more the sort to label it ‘Magical Wall to Contain Marauding Northlanders, Iteration Three, Variant 16f, Trial Version’, which don’t exactly roll off the tongue. It’s a remarkable feat, either way.
What makes it even more remarkable is that he’s not done it using magic alone, but faith and all. I mean, I heard rumours that he’d done something similar in Sylvania to keep the vampires locked in and out of trouble, but this is another scale entirely. Miles and miles of shimmering golden … something … sealing the invading northlanders back behind the border.
Victor was muttering about it something fierce, warning that using that much magic’s bound to turn Gelt a little funny. Or funnier, I should say. Gold Wizards are always a little odd. It’s that obsession with changing one thing into another. In my business, you work with what you’ve got and make the most of it. Victor’s also furious that the Empire’s pretty much upped and abandoned their long time allies to the north, and I can’t say I don’t agree. Reckon Olesya won’t be any happier, what with them being her people.
By strange coincidence, it turns out this innovative idea wasn’t Gelt’s alone, but rather that of a mutual acquaintance. Would you believe she stopped by the keep a couple of days back, when the gang were out performing a bit of derring-do, and we had a good natter. She’s still the same. Dark sense of humour. Fleeting glances at my jugular, followed up by contrition. And never looking a day older, of course. Still, she sounded different. As if the world’s a bad joke she’s sick of hearing. Never thought I’d see it, if I’m honest, but it was nice to see her – even if I’m not allowed to tell anyone she was here.
But this Auric Bastion? That’s gonna be trouble before we’re done. Feels like an escalation, if you know what I mean, and that never ends well. What with the Twin-Tailed Comet being back, I guess you could say I’m not exactly hopeful for what comes next.
