[4e] Adventures in the Planes - IC

[DSCrankshaw]

Lucan - Half-elf Bard

"What am I doing to you?" Lucan demands as he staggers back. "You're the one who's invading my life, trying to take what isn't yours. Well you can't have it! I'm me, and you're nothing but a memory." He glares at the raging alternate Lucan. "Maybe you're a part of me. Maybe I was a dragon in a past life. Maybe I can no more forget or ignore you than I can forget the Feywild songs that had power for me growing up. You are still no more than a piece of me, not the whole. Even if yours is the greatest song that I will ever sing, it is still the bard who sings the song, not the other way around."

[Hzurr]

DM Post

As Lucan rejects this version of himself, everything fades for a brief moment as he too is briefly aware of a pair of eyes that are staring down at him, angry and malevolent. For a fraction of a second, he is almost aware of a face that those eyes belong too. A woman's face, but that's all he can make out.

As his vision returns to him, the familiar purple portal opens up at the end of the hall where the party entered.

From behind the doorway, the eyes narrow at Eltain, unaware of whom the Paladin was speaking to. "'Come to terms with it'? That's your advice? I will show you how I've 'come to terms with it', my little elf-kin..." Around you, the air begins to stir, as if the Lucan behind the door were taking a deep breath.

[Orsik Vondal]

Asheroth runs to Eltain and envelopes him with his wings turning his back to the "dragon" Lucan. Ash lunges for the portal hoping the fire breath misses and he makes it through with Eltain in tow.

[DSCrankshaw]

Lucan - Half-elf Bard

"Time to go!" Lucan shouts, running at full tilt toward the portal. Yuri's a step ahead of him, since when all is said and done, unicorns are fast.

[Mando Knight]

Aramil, having noticed a trend in the timings, instead steps up to the cell door, and blocks the window with his blade.

[dariathalon]

Pavick - Gnome Wizard

Pavick is momentarily pleased that Lucan finally seemed to be putting his alternative to rest behind him, then suddenly panicked when he realizes what's coming. As the rest of the party rushes past him toward the portal, Pavick squeezes his eyes closed tightly and wills himself closer to Yuri. When he re-opens them he is on the unicorn's back. He throws his arms around the unicorn's neck, holding on for dear life. "Sorry friend, this may not be the most dignified for either of us, but you run much faster than my stubby little gnomish legs will carry me. I really don't want to end up as a toasted wizard. I'll get off as soon as I can!"

[Hzurr]

DM Post



As you race towards the portal, the blast of flame you were expecting comes back with a roar. The heat envelops Aramil's blade, and even as the world goes white, the magical blade of Mithrendain begins to twist and pop under the fires.

In the white-space between worlds, everyone becomes aware of those eyes watching, the same ones that had briefly appeared to Lucan and Eltain. As your bodies are stretched out, the eyes narrow, and you can feel a malevolent intent behind them.

Appearing back in a new dream world, it take you a moment to adjust to the dim light around you, but you are immediately caught off guard by the searing heat and overwhelming noise. The stench of sulfur and the metallic tang of blood fills your nostrils, but eventually your vision adjusts to make out the scene below you.

You're reminded of the battle arena in the Astral Sea, for there is little doubt that the space below you was its inspiration. A vast arena of sand and blood floats in the middle of a burning lake of pitch, charred corpses littering the arena. High above the arena, large viewing boxes filled to the brim with fiends from across the nine hells look down, whooping and holloring, occasionally flinging down weapons or fireballs on the combatants below. Scattered throughout the occupants you can see the various banners of Hell's legions and generals. The Blighted Inquisitors, the Crucifiers, the Undying Swarm, Mammon's Bastards... every fiendish armies that has terrorized the planes above and below are represented here, all watching the battle below.

From your viewing box, you have a clear view into the arena. Illuminated by trios of burning skulls chained to iron spikes in the ground, you can see that there are only two creatures still fighting below. It's difficult to make out the two creatures. One seems to be cloaked in flames, the other is moving so quickly its form is almost a blur. The battle appears to have been going on a some point, and even from here you can tell that both creatures are throwing everything they've got at the other. A blade of hellfire comes crashing down, only to be stopped by a vine that springs up from the ground. A whirling staff darts forward, only to be blocked by a clawed hand. The dance continues back and forth, with neither creature gaining the advantage, and the cheering from the devils above grows ever louder. With one last push, both creatures launch themselves at one another, and with a thundering explosion, the blade of hellfire cuts through the staff and strikes at the blurring creature, who lets out a cry of anguish.

The roar of the crowd becomes deafening, but the dust and fire down below have finally cleared enough to give you a good view. Standing tall, but breathing heavily with the blade of fire in hand is Asheroth, fully given over to his fiendish form that had previously only started revealing itself. At his feet, you can see that it was not a staff that was broken, but a long Shepherd's Crook, and the creature struck down is none other than Shep himself.

As the crowd cheers, the Asheroth in the arena, steps forward, grabs the fallen Shepherd by the beard, and brings his blade down to Shep's throat. Before plunging it in, he looks up in askance at a barge shrouded in darkness that you had not noticed before.

The entire arena goes silent, and turns to look at the darkened barge. There is a creature sitting there, although you cannot see it's face. At the edge of the darkness, you can see a red hand with black fingernails, it's grip tightening around a long rod with a ruby tip.

Every fiend's eyes watch the darkened barge, waiting for the execution command.

[Orsik Vondal]

The fighting style the flaming sword, everything, was familiar. Ash looks down at his own hands, and sure enough, they were transparent. "I guess this one is mine."

He returns his gaze to the arena floor where "he" was battling The Shepherd. That seemed slightly odd. He and The Shepherd had always gotten along pretty well with each other. What choice had led to this outcome? Ash wondered. He knew, of course, that had he not controlled his fiendish aspects in Baalzebul's gladiator pit or the drow spider construct, the Asheroth down in the arena would be a reality.

But why was he fighting The Shepherd? He knew that something was different about Shep. Baalzebul had spoken to him in a strange way after his appearance in the arena. Melora's Avatar had asked him to stay behind in Arvandor to tell him some "secret things". And the dragon Lucan had mentioned something about The Shepherd and his dog. That last one was odd, because as much as Shep had talked about his previous life, he had never mentioned a dog. Had he?

When "he" breaks through Shep's defenses, and looks up to the darkened barge, Ash's eyes grow large with fear as he recognizes the hand that protrudes from the darkness. "Asmodeus!" His eyes track back to the arena floor, as he realizes what is most likely about to happen. "No. Shep!"

Then his mind snaps back to those malevolent eyes he saw as he was transported to this "reality". "Mab. Oh, Mab. I see what you're trying to do. But you can't fool me. These are only nightmares sent to torment us. I never put much stock in 'what ifs?' 'What if I had never made that deal? What if I had given myself over to the devil within? What if I had let go of that eladrin to save myself? What if I kill The Shepherd now?' Like the rest, this so-called reality is a mere shadow of what might have been. It has no more bearing on my life than does a feather on the back of a tarrasque. Whatever else you show me will only confirm my life path and my resolve to break away from this life."

Ash crosses his arms and awaits the sign for "him" to execute The Shepherd. But as he looks on, his right arm tenses and pulls away from his torso. His hand clamps around something invisible as if he were holding a rod...or sword hilt. He tries to move it but cannot. Ash looks from his arm to the Ash in the arena, who's arm was in the exact same position. The only difference was a defenseless Shep on the deadly end of "his" blazing sword.

[Mando Knight]

Aramil felt his sword begin to melt in the heat of dragon-Lucan's fire... but besides trying to buy time for the real Lucan to reach the portal before he or the others got hurt, it was also to try to satisfy his own curiosity as to the nature of the test... he looks at his blade.

[dariathalon]

Pavick - Gnome Wizard

Pavick slides off Yuri's back. "Thanks for the lift," he says.

After briefly surveying the surroundings, Pavick becomes interested in the fight going on below. He stares down at the arena in shock, watching as Ash defeats the Shepherd. He sinks down to the floor of the box, holding his knees tightly to his chest. "This is not real. This is not real," he mutters quietly to himself.

Had the real Shepherd been down there, he would not have been able to stop himself from throwing himself into the battle to save him, even if that brought the whole of the fiendish legions down on him. It took a lot to keep himself from helping his friend even knowing that this was only an alternative timeline. All he could do was hope that this particular nightmare would end quickly.

[DSCrankshaw]

Lucan - Half-elf Bard

As Lucan flees from the fiery blast and the world goes white, the voice in his head says, "The greatest song you will ever sing?" It pauses a moment, considering. "Perhaps, some day, you will be worthy to sing my epic."

Soon the white glow gives way to a hellish landscape. Only, it's not just hellish. He stares in horror at the combat below, at Asheroth poised to destroy the Shepherd, and says, "I think I'm ready to go back to the Feywild now and fight some more drow. That has to be less horrible than this."

[Hzurr]

DM Post

As Aramil looks down at the sword, he notes that it still is slightly twisted, and the orange flames that consumed it in the last reality now linger dimly, giving off a slightly purple hue.

OOC: I'll post the full details of the changes when/if y'all make it back to the real world.

As Asheroth looks at the scene below and awaits the killing word from Asmodeus, his rejection of Queen Mab's reality produces the expected result. A swirling portal appears, leading away from this place. Near the portal, barely viewable as if through a thick fog, you can all see the image of the the Queen of the Unseelie Fey, her eyes narrowed in anger and frustration that you all seem to be rejecting these nightmares with such ease.

Before you can leap through the portal, from that darkened area across the arena you hear a low voice rumble that turns your blood to ice, and fills your heart with an unholy terror you had never dreamed existed. "Finish Him."

The previous silence of the Devils erupts into cheers and shouts, as the flaming Asheroth in the arena below flexes his arm, and draws the sword back.

[Orsik Vondal]

At the same moment the ghost Ash draws his empty hand back for the finishing blow. Though there is no blade, the mental torment of this experience would be no less real. He was about to kill The Shepherd.

Ash struggles to wrench his arm away from the phantom motion, but it is all in vain. Time comes to a halt as the fiendish Ash begins to drive his flaming blade toward The Shepherd. "Nooo!" Ash cries. "I cannot do this! This shall never happen!"

Just before the fiend Ash's blade severs Shep's neck, a glowing sword materializes in the vacant hand of the real Asheroth and clangs noiselessly against the floor.

In the arena below, Ash raises the bloody head of The Shepherd above his own before he tosses it toward the barge of the Lord of Nessus.

The ghost Ash dissolves his radiant sword and faces Mab standing in the portal. "Stand aside, witch! You will not break me with this illusion." With that he begins to walk toward the swirling portal.

[Toric]

Zyrr has been quiet ever since entering the portal. Not just quiet, he's always silent as shadow when he isn't speaking. Only now he hasn't been speaking for quite some time amidst the chaos of the various alternate realities.

He could guess what might have happened to him in Pavick's alter-realm. That gnome on the back of a wagon was Zyrr's first tie to a world beyond the mercenary life he'd grown up in, and the one who swayed him to side with the Fallcrest heroes after finishing his job of brewing the poison. Poison which worked better than he'd hoped, though somehow Zyrr couldn't take much professional pride in it. That worried him a great deal, even as the others smelled the baked goods and chatted with Pavick's would-be wife. Had he really changed so much that he was actually ashamed of this job well done?

---

Eltain's alter-realm built on the foundation Pavick's had laid down. Here Eltain stood, all his current morality stripped away and replaced with.... well, a calculating mind and a razor wit. Very drowlike, the possibility that Eltain could be like this fills Zyrr with pride. But even so, a very different mentality than the Eltain he's come to know, one drilled into him by his home environment, leaving no room for doubt.

Maybe they should have thought about this purple portal.

---

Lucan's alter-realm mainly teaches him two things: first, he has a distinct feeling he might have been a major factor in calming Lucan down, but there'd be no sense in trying that now when he had no clue what the deranged half-elf's buttons were; second, he should never call Lucan crazy again, even in the safety of his own mind. When Lucan is tugged toward his alter-self, Zyrr reaches out instinctively to grab his arm, passing through the transparent bard entirely. What in the planes made me think that would ever work? As they flee the prison, Zyrr looks back to see Aramil using his sword to block the advance of flame, and sees the fire lick the enchanted steel. So what happens in these places can affect the group. This.... This is not a good thought.

---

Neither is the thought of Asheroth holding a blade to the neck of Zyrr's friend and training partner. What would have happened if it was Zyrr down in the arena facing this man-fiend, fighting for his life and losing?

When Zyrr finally speaks it's in an urgent whisper to Eltain. "You have to promise me something. Promise me, when we get to my turn, you won't let me hurt any of you. Whatever it does to the real me, make sure the fake me doesn't hurt anyone that's standing here right now. I can't promise he won't try." His eyes are pleading, full of fear, as much fear as they held when he came back from the Demonweb Pits.

[dariathalon]

Pavick - Gnome Wizard

As soon as a portal appears to leave Ash's fake reality, Pavick scrambles toward it as quickly as he can. Almost like a starving man racing for a last crumb of food. Anything to get out of this world quickly. Shep's death could not be real.

[Hzurr]

DM Post

As Asheroth charges through the portal, followed soon by Pavick, the image of Mab disappears, and the world starts to go white. Even as this illusory world disappears, you can hear the mocking laughter from the god of hell. "And so the past repeats itself. You shall always fall before me, my ancient foe..."

--------------------

As the hellscape behind you fades, the blistering heat also dissipates and you find yourself in a large open meadow, warn sun on your face and a cool breeze in your hair. Looking around you find yourself standing in the fields outside the Printempest manor, surrounded by wildflowers and a few of those six-legged sheep you once found here so long ago. The Printempest compound, burned to ashes and salted the last time you saw it in the real world, seems larger and more expansive than you remember it from your early visits to the feywild. Predictably, this time Aramil has taken on the transparent tone.

Walking through the field you become aware of another eladrin striding beside you, a long sword of twisted green vines hanging at his belt, and flowing amber hair with hints of gray tied in thousands of braids on his head. Something about that hair tickles the back of your memory, but before you can place it, a voice calls out "Elfire Greensword, how wonderful it is to see you again my old master!" The eladrin next to you breaks out in a wide smile, and quickens his pace.

Walking out of the complex towards you is Aramil, followed by his cousin Azula and her servant Selene. Aramil and Elfire briefly embrace, before Aramil claps the older Eladrin on the back. "I thought you were in the winter lands?"

Elfire gives a laugh "You're correct, I've been in the winter court ever since I settled that little spat between Oran and his daughter." He rolls his eyes and laughs. "After what she tried to pull, I'm surprised Oran even let her keep the title 'Bramble Queen.' I thought he was going to exile her."

Elfire pauses to take a drink from Selene, who in turn offers glasses of feywine to the rest of you. "I just returned from the Winter Lands. Aramil, you should really consider coming up to visit. The Winter Fey took a little getting used to, but they're delightful once you get to know them. I actually found my latest pupil there." He steps back and motions to Eltain.

"Aramil Printempest, meet Eltain Sharma, my newest student from the Winter Court."

The other Aramil steps forward and extends a hand to Eltain. "Welcome! If you're having to go through training under this old fool then we're practically kin. Has he ever gotten around to telling you how I saved his life from a Lich back on the material plane?"

Azula, meanwhile, has approached Lucan. "Master Roslow, I'm so glad you could join us, it's been far too long since I've had the pleasure of your company." She leans forward and gives Lucan a kiss that lingers just long enough to make Lucan blush slightly. "Are these the friends you wrote to me of? The ones who fought the Illithids?" She turns to Pavick, Zyrr and Asheroth with a smile.

Like those before him, Aramil can feel that tugging towards this alternate version of himself.

[Mando Knight]

Aramil... isn't sure what to make of this. Waving a hand over his scabbard, it reshapes itself to accept his sword's new shape. He puts his blade away and finds a seat on one of the courtyard's benches of carefully cultivated live trees. Taking a deep breath, he mutters "Well played, milady... well played."

[Toric]

Well, this isn't the nightmare Zyrr feared would come next, it's just.... darn confusing. First, these adventures Zyrr's never heard of. The quibble with the Bramble Queen clearly has played out differently here, and he's apparently fought illithid with Pavick, Eltain, and Asheroth. He only remembers ever fighting one illithid, and that was with the advantage of a surprise attack. Even so it was a close call and he'd hate to be faced with the prospect of fighting off a group of them.

Second, not only has Aramil never met the rest, like the previous other-selves, but apparently neither has Eltain, unless he and the group did travel for a while and parted ways. Maybe Zyrr's behavior did succeed in driving him away in this other-world.

Third, this is perhaps the first time Zyrr has come to an intact Printempest estate without spears being immediately pointed at him. It's eerie.

[Orsik Vondal]

As Ash steps through the portal, he hears Asmodeus' call. And it unnerves him...

"Ancient foe"? "The past repeats itself"? Does that mean...? Ash wracked his brain for the story. He had just read about this in the Library of Arvandor. The Dawn War. Asmodeus. The Shard of Evil. The Betrayal. There was one being Asmodeus might call his "ancient foe". Repeating the past could be a reference to that very act! Pieces started to fall into place. Whether or not they were true was a question only The Shepherd could answer. And the Shepherd was not here.

When Selene offers the wine, Ash declines as he is deep in thought. this present scene is not enough to pry his mind away from his current line of reasoning. There were now so many questions with a possible answer, yet that answer was impossible to divine at the moment.

If it was true, what did it mean for Ash and his future plans? The Hells would be none too happy. That could easily be seen by the way the infernal legions a had reacted when Shep appeared in the astral arena. And how Baalzebul had reacted at their "victory dinner". The only problem was that Shep didn't seem like he understood what was going on then either. Might Shep be his avenue to change the Hells?

And then there was the odd invitation of Melora's Avatar for The Shepherd to accompany her at the godsmeet. Could it be? There were just too many questions!

[DSCrankshaw]

Lucan - Half-elf Bard

"Of course," Lucan says. "Allow me to introduce my companions. Pavick Roslow, you know, and these are Asheroth Durant and Zyrr'delin Morvyndis. They have been faithful companions on many adventures."

[dariathalon]

Pavick - Gnome Wizard

Pavick doesn't respond to any of the new sites or sounds until he has accepted a glass of feywine from Selene. He lets the smooth liquid calm the nerves he'd built in the last reality.

He gives a polite bow to Lady Azula, "It's a pleasure to see you again, Lady Azula." He holds his wine up in a wave to Selene who is busily serving others. "And you as well, Selene."

He takes a deep breath of the fragrant flower-filled field and smiles wide. "What a wonderful day this is. Everything here seems absolutely perfect."

I wonder what could have lead to all this.

[Mando Knight]

Aramil looks at the others, guessing what's on their minds. With a somber voice, he tells them "...You want to know where it changed? Ask about the lich."

That had to have been it, Aramil knew it. That story, from years ago, makes all the difference... and in truth, he was interested in hearing the different version of the tale. Where was it that the tide had turned?

(By the way, the last thing Other-Aramil said is colored incorrectly.)

[Toric]

"A pleasure to meet you all." Zyrr bows deeply upon being introduced by Lucan, doffing his hat. He's quite interested in what circumstances would lead to him being treated as an honored guest in this world, but not so interested he'll put said treatment at jeopardy. Besides, he shouldn't rock the boat; this is Aramil's playground after all.

He glances toward Aramil and nods slightly in acknowledgement. "Lucan and Pavick have told us much about their friends the Printempests, but clearly not everything." the drow says, spreading his arms to gesture at alter-Aramil and this Elfire he doesn't remember meeting. "A lich? Truly? That sounds like a tale worth hearing. Might I suggest a story swap? Your lich for our illithid?"

[Hzurr]

DM Post

Azula gives a polite bow the Asheroth and Zyrr. "A pleasure." As Pavick speaks, Azula nods. "Well why shouldn't it be? The fey courts have been quiet, and aside from those rumors about the devils moving in the Astral Plane, what's there to be concerned about?"

At Zyrr's request, other Aramil gives a nod "Well, I'm not certain how exciting it will be, but I'm sure Master Greensword can tell it better than I." He motions for his former teacher to continue the tale, but leans over to whisper to Eltain "This will be a good story for you to remember as you're learning from him."

Elfire rolls his eyes, but takes a drink from the cup of wine in his hands. "I'll try and be brief. Let's see, this would have been...25, 30 years ago? Aramil had only been training with me for a short while at that point, and we'd gone to the Material Plane. There were rumors of some human wizard who'd turned himself into a lich and started experimenting on Aberations, and I thought it'd be a good learning experience for Aramil, so we went to investigate. What was his name, Aramil? Gorgamel? Gorgizard?"

"Gorgazon."

"Ah, yes. That was it. At any rate, after battling our way past gricks and Foulspawn, we confronted the Lich. We had the drop on him, and dispatched him without too much trouble. Now of course, the trouble with Liches is that they don't stay dead. A few weeks later, Aramil and I were out in the world when the Lich attacked us again in the open. I was caught offguard and was on the ropes. Aramil stepped up,, and attacked with the third form." Elfie turns to look at Eltain. "You know how I've always taught you to follow the third form with an attack to the left flank? 999 out of 1000, that's the correct move, but for some reason I still don't understand, Aramil attacked on the right flank, and the Lich wasn't able to counter it. That blow bought me enough time to dispatch the lich, and this time we were able to get rid of the Phylactory and kill it for good."

As Elfie speaks, the real Aramil on the bench can clearly remember this fight, where he chose to follow his training and attack the left flank, only to find his blade blocked and himself tossed to the side as the Lich eviscerated his master.

The alternate Aramil laughs, and puts a hand on Eltain's shoulder "So remember, as he's training you, make sure you listen to your instinct and don't always follow blindly"

Elfie nods. "Good advice. After the business with the Lich, I returned to the Green Court, and was lucky enough to uncover evidence of the Bramble Queen's plots against her father." He looks at Azula and gives a chuckle "Do you remember how she tried to insist that the Winter Courts had made a secret alliance with her and were also responsible?"

Azula rolls her eyes and nods. "Even if it was true, the Prince of Frost was smart enough to abandon any plans he may have had. They've been some of our closest allies since then. It may have been simple to distance themselves from any rumors that they had been plotting, but the alliance has worked out well."

Elfie shrugs "Eh, even if they were, what of it? Isn't scheming against each other what the fey courts do best?" Draining his cup, he turns to look at Zyrr. "Now then, let's hear this story of the Illithids."

As Elfie has been speaking, that pull behind the real Aramil grows stronger, almost pulling the transparent Eladrin off the bench where he was sitting. In his ear, Aramil can hear a faint voice whispering "This world can be yours. Tens of thousands have died from your mistake in that other world, but not here..."

[Orsik Vondal]

As Ash listens to the story of Aramil and the Lich, his thoughts of The Shepherd slip away for now. He could worry about the implications of his alternate reality after they escaped. Just then a thought occurred to him: I wonder what Mab is like in this reality? A sly look creeps across his face, and he peers around the space he occupies, searching for those eyes.

With an aire of ignorance Ash responds loud enough for ghost Aramil to hear, "If I might interject, Sir Elfire, now that you mention the different Courts and scheming. I have not been in the Fey lands very much and know naught of its politics. But I have heard of Queen Mab and possibly about her defection from Summer to Winter. Who is she really and what of her true disposition within Fey politics? What demesne is she Queen of?"

[Mando Knight]

Aramil rights himself after the pull. "Queen Mab is Unseelie, not Winter. The Winter Court is technically still Seelie, even in our world."

[Orsik Vondal]

"Uh, or was it Seelie-Unseelie? I'm not too up to date on some of the lesser fey." A smile creeps across Ash's mouth.

[Mando Knight]

"Asheroth, you. Are. An. Idiot."

[Hzurr]

DM Post

The alternate Aramil arches an eyebrow first at Asheroth's rather ignorant question, and again as Asheroth seems to be speaking to no one.

"Queen Mab is of the Gloaming Court. She's also one of the few outspoken members of the Unseelie Fey." His tone takes on the air of one speaking to a child. "And while in the Feywild, I would recommend against openly insulting any of the Archfey. You never know who might be listening..." With that, the alternate Aramil turns back to Eltain and Elfire, seemingly dismissing Asheroth as someone not worth paying attention to.

[Orsik Vondal]

"Bah!" Ash says and throws his hands out. "You feyfolk are extremely superstitious. I'll just be over here, while you all talk amongst yourselves."

Ash strides over to the bench where the real Aramil has taken a seat and plops down folding his arms in front of him. He turns his head sideways to Aramil and whispers.

Spoiler

Show

"I know that this must be hard for you to see your old master alive again. And to know had you made one slight change in your choices, he would still be alive. I am sure you feel like staying here would be nice, better even. But, General, staying here will not change the state of the real world outside of this illusion. You and probably the rest of us would be trapped here forever. But the world outside would continue to move forward. The drow invasion would succeed. And Senaliesse would fall. But...if you reject this illusion, we can continue on and thwart the drow, General. Even if only you were trapped here by your decision, the real world would have lost a great man. I want to be able to tell children in the next generation how General Aramil Printempest overcame Queen Mab's Reality of Illusions and saved Senaliesse from destruction! Not how Aramil succumbed to the wiles of the Unseelie Mab! Once you are able to live without this illusion, we can leave. Think about it: you have already been living without this illusion for some time. You are able to reject it. You just have to consciously make that same decision now."