Élie had heard that there used to be witches here. Well, in the place that used to be here, before the Worldwound happened to it. A whole order of them, with their own strange rules and rites and rituals of initiations – it's that last one that got his attention. If they had a way to induct new witches – if they could do it on command – well, if they did, it's almost certainly all gone now. 

Still, he's curious. It can't possibly hurt to take a look. 

The Worldwound is....kind of dismal. There are the fortresses built on the wardstones that maintain a shimmery pulsing force-field around the whole thing; there are the smaller garrisons stationed to address the occasional demon with enough good luck or spell resistance to force its way through the force-field. There are barracks, and temples. All of them were built when the crusades began, a century ago; none of them have been repaired very recently, except for those minor injuries Mending from bored wizards can fix. The dome of the temple of Iomedae once gleamed with gold, which someone has scraped off; of course, that might be a deliberate statement. The church of Iomedae is a more sober institution than it was a hundred years ago, when it was taking up Aroden's banner, when Cheliax was free. 

Cheliax has the bulk of the forces stationed here. They have their barracks, and their temple. There's a girl on the roof, looking at him.

Ugh. Just a few months ago, that would have frightened him. Now, he's merely annoyed. It's rather difficult to keep a sixth-circle wizard anywhere he doesn't want to be. 

He needs to get his bearings. Probably he should go talk to the Iomedans. If he's going to do research at the Worldwound, it's only polite to volunteer, and they probably have the most organized operation. He might even be able to get news of the paladin de Luna, Naima would probably appreciate that. So, to the temple of Iomedae. 

...Just as soon as he figures out where it is. 

She hops down - well, takes a running jump and Feather Falls. He has some decent gear. Fifth, sixth, circle, she'd guess, judging just off how nice the gear is. Avistani. Galtan, maybe, by the dress. It takes extra effort to win those over but not that much extra effort, really. Adventurers of all stripes are vulnerable to naive pretty girls who want to coo over their magic items and can hold their end of a conversation about how they made them.

"Are you looking for someone in particular?"

Well isn't this an interaction he would prefer not to be having. 

"Oh, no, just here to enjoy the scenery." 

He gestures at a particularly drab-looking little hill. Go away. 

"It's the uniform, isn't it. Unfortunately if I take it off everyone gets too distracted to hold their end of a conversation about magic. You were looking around. For the Calistrians? They're thereabouts." She points. "And if you're looking for countrymen Sarenrae's people keep an eye on them, patch them up, write letters home about their glorious achievements so whoever's in charge might keep paying for their upkeep. She's that one, on the left."

Interesting to note that Cyprian is, apparently, paying for a Galtan force here, one would think he has enough else on his plate, but – oh. Gods. This is flirting. He's being flirted with. How perfectly awful. Time to put an unambiguous end to it. 

"Do you want to go to Absalom?" 

"What, has a portal to the Abyss opened there?"

"I mean, do you have any interest in foreswearing devil worship and starting a new life in Absalom? Because if you do, I have the resources to arrange it, and if you don't, I feel no further obligation to continue this conversation. Good day, miss." 

"See, we have got this portal to the Abyss, here, and I was planning on doing something about it." That usually works on Good people.

It's probably smarter to just not engage, but if Élie was any good at that he'd have led a very different life. 

"If you find it fulfilling to toss fireballs at demons and report your subordinates for forbidden thoughts then by all means be my guest. You know just as well as I do that your odds of doing anything of any real significance are vanishingly small. After all, your masters wouldn't like it." 

"Wouldn't like the Worldwound closed? ...even purely from the most cynical possible geopolitical perspective we have far, far more force committed here than Galt does, and would gain a lot more if we could bring them home. 

And I don't toss fireballs. I do magic arms and armor research. If anyone's come to the Worldwound bearing it in the last three years, I can make it. We need better wardstones, that's how we end this thing." 

"Oh! Please forgive me, I had no idea I was in the presence of the distinguished abjuration specialist who's going to make the first major breakthrough in wardstone efficiency anyone's had in 80 years. Tell me, truthfully – you're trying to make fourth circle, right?" 

"Oh, were you better than that, at twenty-two?" She's actually twenty-five but she was third-circle at twenty-two and anyway she hardly owes him honesty. 

"Oh, no, much worse. But then –  I stopped being Chelish, which made a great deal of difference. ...I'm not trying to insult you – I mean, of course I think you're fundamentally incorrect about every question in the world which really matters, but I'm sure you're exceptionally good at what you do. Which is why I am sure you will make fourth circle. And I can tell you exactly what will happen when you do. You'll be strongly encouraged to take a nice, well-paid research job somewhere far away from the front. They'll be on you to sell your soul to a devil – more than they already are now, I mean. And if you don't, I am equally certain that however talented you are, you will never make fifth." 

There are quite a number of Chelish exiles, floating among the wizards' colleges in Absalom and Quantium and Katheer. Some of them are his friends. None of them like to talk about their previous lives, and honestly Élie doesn't like to listen, but it's like an itch, he just can't leave it alone.  

"I really don't think any of this is going to matter to you right now. I don't even know if you sincerely care about the Worldwound, but I'd like to believe that you do. So, in a few years, I hope it occurs to you to wonder why your king and your god would rather you be too weak to really do anything about it, as long as it means you're not strong enough to leave." 

"I guess when the time comes I'll look up what the people who figured out how to safely rise in the ranks did, and do that. I think I would've thought to do that anyway, but - thank you, for suggesting it, in case I was one of those people who can only keep track of how magic works and not how the world does. Who are you here to see, I want to learn about all your magic items but I can catch you at dinner, for that, there's nowhere here to take notes."

"...that might be difficult. I'm looking for the Paladin Alexandre Riguez de Luna. Of the temple of Iomedae." 

"Don't know the name but the temple's that one, over there. They'll let me in for dinner, on principle, but they'll be on edge all evening so perhaps it'd be a rude thing to do to them. We can meet in the dead of night, if that's easier."

"I hope you don't take it personally if I'm not inclined to go out of my way, here." 

"I'm taking it as proof that you lack imagination. What do you think is the cleverest magic item someone brought through here in the last year? Did you know there's a way to stably lay spells on a sword that we can't cast at all, because they won't prepare stably? That's not the cleverest magic item someone brought through here in the last year, but it was clever, and I have notes on it. Did you know that you can use siccatite in place of spellsilver and stabilize djezet in a solid form under enough pressure, at which point it intensifies all your spells? I'm not asking for charity. I want to hear what you're working on, and I'll trade you. And you could circle the world twice and learn half as much."

"Have you considered I might not have anything very interesting to trade you? I'm afraid all the projects I wouldn't mind your government knowing about are all terribly boring." 

"That's not a boring ring. Or boring glasses."

"Oh, the glasses are nothing, just some lenses of Detect Magic I threw together because I was tired of preparing my spells blind, I'm sure you could do the same if you wanted to. The ring I can't take credit for." 

"Present from an admirer?"

"Payment for services rendered. As it happens, I'm a married man."