Zion spent the better part of two days scrying, studying maps, consulting Pik, planning, and arranging and rearranging his personal kit. In the end, he settled on two locations within Pitax: the first, near the center of the city and adjacent to a town common where trees and brush could help hide his arrival and movement; and the second near the main gate, where a district of hovels and twisting alleys, he hoped, would facilitate the same.
In consultation with the other kings it was decided that a late afternoon attack would make most sense, since it would be near the end of the day’s work, would only give the enemy a few hours before sunset to react, and would also enable Zion, upon his return to Misthaven, to rest easily to regain his power.
And so he went, in a muted flash of light and swirl of wind, teleporting hundreds of miles away, already invisible. A light breeze concealed the displacement of air, and quickly dispersed the smells of Tuskwater Castle that Zion brought with him. No one was around in the common to see the slight, momentary glow. Zion took a few moments to look around, identifying the Academy of Eternal Song and the Irovettirium, a massive art museum. Going off of what he’d learned from Pik and the sworn testimony of a few bards and artisans in Misthaven, Zion was confident that the art museum was filled with little more than trash, anyway, and so a fire and some explosions there would serve their cause well without destroying anything of real value. Dropping his invisibility he walked casually toward the front of the museum, the facade of which was shaped, in part, into a base-relief of Irovetti’s profile, with cherubs and enchanted creatures flying about him in adoration. ‘That,’ he thought, ‘will have to go first.’
Moments later the front of the building was engulfed in flame, with black smoke pouring from the windows and roof. Screams of pain and agony wracked the silent air; amid the dying bodies, blood [ran] everywhere. Zion shifted his targeting to the first responders, a small group of soldiers and guards who tried to get civilians away from the carnage and organize a bucket brigade. Lightning and more fire compounded the destruction and added their misery to the chorus of the dying. In another instant, the king was invisible and teleporting himself to the vicinity of the main gate, where a barracks stood.
Zion’s rage at Irovetti took similar form at his next stop, seeing him expend all of his fireballs, lightning bolts, and anything else that could ignite, explode, shock, or otherwise harm structures or people. Moments later, he was back in the great hall of Tuskwater Castle, bringing with him a faint haze of smoke.
“Done. I think he knows we’re not happy with his attacks by now,” the silver-haired king stated flatly as he reached for a glass of wine.
King Anton slammed his fist down on the map table and smashed his goblet into the nearby fireplace, whooping a mighty “huzzah!” at the news.
This takes place a little over a week after the battle at Myralanna.