"The illithid of Zorvak'Mur were... superficially receptive," Nathyrra explains. "However, they claimed that their withdrawal of support from the Valsharess would accomplish nothing; they are only one of the mind flayer collectives allied with her, as it turns out, and the others have already sent agents to join her forces. Then they attempted to kidnap my party in order to offer us up to the Valsharess and curry her favor. We were able to get out without allied casualties, and I managed while escaping to pour a pint of Brainrot Oil into the Overmind's pool filter. I doubt that this will have any lasting effect on the balance of power, but it makes me feel slightly better."

"We lost thirty percent of our strike force," reports a battered-looking Valen Shadowbreath, "but the Eye Caverns are clear. The Valsharess may still have a few beholders among her ranks, but she will not have an army of them."

"I am glad to hear it," the Seer says. "Nathyrra, do not be ashamed. This circumstance could not have been foreseen. I am simply glad that you escaped. Belmarniss, what news of your own mission?"

"The avariel are up on the surface where they belong and uncursed except one guy who decided to duplicate himself into cursed and uncursed versions for personal reasons. We have this magic mirror to show for it but are warned it's addictive."

She looks at the mirror and her eyes widen. "I... have heard of this artifact. The Mirror of All-Seeing. Do you intend to keep it? I... believe I could make good use of it... but it is yours by right."

"Do you wanna maybe borrow it for these proceedings and get back to us on the addictiveness when things settle down?"

"That sounds entirely reasonable. I confess that I also feel better with someone looking over my shoulder... I have no desire to lose myself to omniscient paranoia like some users of the Mirror."

She takes it from Jojo somewhat reverently. "That said, I should begin scrying as soon as possible. Not directly on our foe, as I have no doubt she could detect it and retaliate, but it seems likely her lesser generals are less equipped for that purpose."

"Makes sense. We miss anything going down hereabouts?"

"A few piddling assassination attempts," Enserric sniffs from the corner he parked himself in. "Nothing worth anyone's time."

"I'm glad everything's going so smoothly."

"This is what happens when an incompetent gets more power than she knows what to do with," Enserric sighs. "This Valsharess thinks she can do anything she wants just because she holds semi-deific power. Well, we're here to show her that's not how this works."

"Deals with devils, right? Man, why don't angels do that kind of thing."

"Hah. Perhaps they feel they can do any job they want done better themselves, whereas the devils have the perspective that granting some idiot their power results in rather a lot of evil being done without their lifting a finger."

"I think I'd be a very effective wielder of borrowed angelic power!"

"I'm sure you would, actually, but angels in my experience are very busy with what they do and need all the power they have. Oh, and of course there is the notable circumstance under which they do grant mortals power, but you don't strike me as a paladin candidate."

"Yeah, I ping Chaotic. Plus, like, what's the point of borrowing angelic power if you still have to level like a normal person about it, that wouldn't save hardly any time."

"Very true!"

Garrus stifles a yawn. "We've been up for a while now, I think - is it time to rest before the big climactic battle?"

"Sounds like a good idea," Valen comments. "You're likely to face an army tomorrow."

"What kinda accommodations are we looking at?"

There's rooms at the public house for them again! They're accommodating and come with complimentary deep rothe steak, which continues to taste not quite like lizard. The beds, of course, are silk.

Mmm, not quite lizard.

And when she sleeps...

A woman stands before her. She wears a crown, and truly ridiculous armor. She's slightly shorter than Belmarniss, but her heels give her a couple of inches. She's wearing perfume, something dusky and mysterious and only a little bit overpowering.

The Valsharess looks Belmarniss over appraisingly, and smiles. "So. You are the outlander who's given me so much trouble."

"...so, you're a creeper who invades dreams? Don't you have anything better to do?"

She smiles thinly. "Better things to do than investigate the one fated to bring my downfall? I think not, girl. You have humiliated me thrice now, something most do not manage once. You slew my right hand, Sabal, and that is no mean feat. And there is something about you. Your fate weighs on the world around you, another spider on the web."