The Conclave was not a single event, but a week-long whirlwind of feasts, martial displays, and most importantly, private negotiations in secluded chambers. Damien, as a newly-minted "strategic resource," found himself pulled in multiple directions.
His first summons came not from Lord Ferros, but from the Whispering Deeps delegation. They met in a small, sound-dampened annex. The two hooded figures were Mind-Flayer Adjutants, a subspecies of psychic humanoids with pale, moist skin and large, black eyes. Their auras were a constant, low-grade mental static.
"Frost-Warden," the first one spoke, its voice a direct projection into his mind that bypassed his ears. "Your power is… orderly. A structured cold. The Deeps are places of chaos, of screaming thoughts and formless energies. Your 'converter' core… could it impose stillness on psychic tumult? Could it freeze a maddening whisper?"
[Analysis: The Whispering Deeps is a region of chaotic spiritual and psychic energy. Entity is inquiring about using host's frost to create zones of mental silence/sanctuary. Potential high-value trade.]
Of course I know system, Damien told the system through his inner thoughts
"Possibly," Damien replied aloud, forcing them to use normal speech—a small assertion of control. "The principle is the same: overwhelming a chaotic energy state with a dominant, stable pattern. Frost is a pattern of perfect crystalline order. It would require testing."
"A test, then," the second Flayer hissed verbally. "We have a… contained psychic anomaly. A thought-leech that parasitizes dreamers. If you can neutralize it with a frost-construct, the Deep's Consortium will offer you a map. A map to a place where fire does not burn, but reveals. A place the Sun-Chasers call 'The Cradle of Flames'."
Damien's focus sharpened to a razor point. The first major clue to his bloodline quest, offered so directly. It was too convenient.
[Threat Assessment: Information is likely accurate but bait. Probability of trap or hidden agenda: 78%. The Deeps entities are manipulators. They seek to use host and may abandon or sacrifice him after obtaining desired result.]
"Agree to the test," Damien said. "But I set the parameters. The containment field must be of my design, and I conduct the neutralization remotely, via my Avatar."
The Mind-Flayers exchanged a silent, psychic glance. "Cautious. Wise. Parameters accepted. We will provide the specimen tomorrow."
As they left, Damien felt the subtle psychic pressure lift. He had just bartered his services for a vital clue, while mitigating the immediate risk.
His next meeting was less expected. As he walked the torch-lit battlements that night, a figure melted from the shadows. The Vampire, up close, was aristocratically handsome, pale as milk, with dark eyes that held centuries of ennui. He wore no sigil, but his aura was old and deep—a solid 3rd Order, 1st Rank.
"Lord Valerius of the Nocturne Court," the vampire introduced himself with a slight, graceful bow. "I find the… thermal drama in the hall refreshing. So blunt. So human."
"What does the Nocturne Court want with a blunt instrument?" Damien asked, his Oculus seeing the vampire's aura—a core of deep, still cold, surrounded by a shimmering, hungry red.
"Courts survive on blood and information," Valerius smiled, revealing perfectly normal, if very white, teeth. "The Court is curious about your origin. A blind boy with a Frost-Specter, emerging from the northern peaks… it echoes an old, sad tale. The fall of the Karyon Clan."
Damien kept his expression, his heartbeat, his spirit perfectly still. Still Pulse.
Valerius watched for a reaction, found none, and continued. "A great human clan, famed for sight, destroyed in a single night by betrayal and Vexis ambition. The youngest son, a blind null, was said to have been sold to the Moros Consortium. Then, nothing. Until rumors of a frost-wielding boy in the Frostscar Vale begin to tickle certain ears."
He was piecing it together. Not completely, but dangerously close.
"The past is frozen," Damien stated. "It cannot be changed."
"True," Valerius conceded. "But the future is fluid. The Nocturne Court has no love for the Vexis Clan, who encroach on our hunting lands with their daylight laws. We also have… archivists. Those who remember things even clans wish forgotten. The specific mana-toxin used to suppress a certain bloodline in utero, for instance."
Another piece. The method of his blinding. Information that could lead to a cure, or at least deeper understanding.
"In return?" Damien asked.
"A simple favor, to be called upon later," Valerius said airily. "The Court prefers long-term investments. And, perhaps, a small sample of your unique frost—untainted by that… dragon-ish aftertaste we detect. For study."
The vampire knew about the Fell-Wyrm's touch. His senses were frighteningly acute.
[Analysis: Valerius offers high-value information (bloodline suppression method) for a vague future favor and a research sample. Risk: Future favor could be catastrophic. Sample could be used to create anti-frost weapons. Reward: Critical path information.]
"Provide the archivist's findings first," Damien bargained. "Then you receive a frost sample. The favor remains negotiable, its terms defined when called."
Valerius laughed softly. "You bargain like an ancient. Very well. The information will find you. A pleasure, Damien Karyon." He said the name like a secret, then stepped back into the shadows and was gone.
Damien stood on the battlements, the winds of the Vale whipping at his hair. In one day, he had potentially secured the location of the Heavenly Flames and the secret of his own poisoning. The cost was future entanglement with a psychic hive and a vampire court.
[Directive Update: 'Navigate the Conclave'. Progress: 75%.]
[New Objectives Acquired: 1. Neutralize psychic anomaly for Whispering Deeps. 2. Analyze and verify vampire's information. 3. Maintain neutral balance between Ferros, Tower, and new factions.]
He looked down into the crowded bailey. He saw Kael in heated discussion with another Tower disciple who had just arrived—an older man with a 3rd Order aura. The Tower was reinforcing its presence.
He saw the Elven advisor speaking with a group of Dryads from the nearby Weald, their auras like walking spring.
He was a node in a rapidly expanding network of power and intrigue. The simple, brutal calculus of the mountain was gone. Now he had to calculate alliances, information value, and delayed risks.
But the core principle remained: identify the objective, assess the variables, and conquer the problem.
The problem was no longer a beast or a node. The problem was an entire world of ancient powers, and his place within it. He turned from the battlements and headed back to his cell. He had a psychic leech to freeze tomorrow, and he needed to prepare.
The path forward was a treacherous, multi-layered puzzle. And Damien Karyon had always been good at puzzles.