(This is something of a nation maintenance thread, along with an ongoing story. Also, a continuation of the events from this thread.)
Hoeth, Kingdom of Saphery
The White Tower burned. The impossibly tall edifice, one that had once stood as the centre of the surrounding city, it's gleaming white stones serving as a shining beacon along the rugged coastline, was blackening and beginning to crumble. Citizens could only watch in horror as the fires could not be doused, and continued to consume even the very stones themselves. It was horrible magic gone awry, they said to each other as they watched, noting the streaks of blue, purple, and green that occasionally streaked the ruddy orange flames. The mages must have gone too far in some experiment. Now their home would be naught more then dust as the gods humbled them.
The lower levels had been evacuated in time before the fires had spread. Hundred of acolytes, students, and the Swordmaster garrison helped battle the blaze from the street, but they could do little more but keep the fire from spreading as chunks of burning masonry fell into the wide park surrounding the Tower. None of the senior mages had made it out, and sorrow weighed heavily on the hearts of those who quickly realized they would never see their friends and colleagues again.
The fire burned through the night, spilling a massive trail of acrid black smoke across the city along the southerly wind. By dawn of the following day, it was finally over; only a few smoldering embers remained in the blackened, hollow shell that had once been a nearly mile-high tower. The survivors and the first group of firefighters had retired, many being treated for shock and exhaustion after spending so long battling the hellish inferno. A few fresh crews remained on the scene, continuing to douse the ashes with flame retardant foam to keep anything from starting up once more. Police in filter masks patrolled the perimeter of the Tower Park, keeping people away from the scene. An eerie calm had finally settled over the scene.
Major Scarlet Drakharn had not left the scene since she had fled the tower. Her sister had been up at the summit, with the Archmage. Something had to have gone wrong with whatever they were doing. 'There was no way this was just a coincidence,' she thought bitterly, determined to remain until they had found Ellenith. So she waited on one of the benches in the park, and stared up at the tower's ruins. Her navy blue uniform and blonde hair were both streaked with grey stone dust and black ash, and her eyes were red and irritated, but still she waited.
It was just as the first rays of dawn crept though the clouds that the miracle happened. A lone figure walked slowly from the ruins! Hunched over and leaning heavily on a tall staff, the person seemed to barely able to stand. And that figure walked straight up to Scarlet, apparently without being so much as noticed by the work crews in the area.
Scarlet could clearly see it was a woman who approached, though a hood obscured her face. The woman's dress was tattered, torn and burnt, but she saw no sign of wounds or injury. Scarlet thought she recognized the staff; half again the height of an elf, it was made of brilliant white starwood, banded with silver and ithilmar, and topped with a figure of a maiden holding open a large book, imposed upon the crescent moon. The staff of Lileath! The Loremaster's own staff. But how...
The answer became clear when tired figure pulled back her hood and revealed herself. Ellenith Drakharn, alive and unharmed, save for a bandage wrapped around her head, obscuring her left eye. Ellenith managed a weak smile as she saw that her sister had waited for her, and the shocked look of joy on her face. It was about all she could do to slump into Scarlet's arms as she bolted up to hug her tightly.
"I thought you were dead. I couldn't believe it..." Scarlet whispered, as tears streaked her soot-stained cheeks.
"I think I might have been. I don't... don't really remember..." was about all her sister could manage. "But we have to be away. We have to go home. I... need your help, again."
Scarlet couldn't argue. Whatever had spared her sister, if it was blind luck, fate, or the intervention of the gods themselves, none of it mattered. Only the supreme joy she felt at seeing her sister alive again mattered. She would do whatever Elly wanted. So she turned, and supported Ellenith's arm over her shoulder, and helped carry her. "Alright, alright... but you need to rest, you look like hell," Scarlet could only offer a slight admonishment along with a half-hearted chuckle as she turned and lead them back to their ship.
"Trip's a few days... that's... all I can... spare..." Elly murmured, as she slumped against her sister's side, the last of her energy fading as she passed out, claimed by blissful unconsciousness.