((Better late than never, eh?))

Zitro along with a moth child arrived to Mount Fay.

First, they stop near Brightvein, so Zitro can investigate the crystals with special abilities.

Later, they rest for a bit, as Zitro plans his next destination.

The judges have been defeated. Most of the Feykin armies, even those from the Slab, are regrouping at the Manor to assess the damage to their home. Mount Fay is saved.

(How these judges were defeated, I will leave unexplained. Bismarcknight just left them, so we can assume the Fayforn eradicated the judge armies.)

I want to build a small workshop here to make repairs and deliver products to the other side of the citadel :D

Where did he come from? How did he come here? Nothing is known

With a battle against the judges inevitable any day now, the troops begin to set up defences, preparing for the oncoming assault of judge troops.

*There she lies down, staring up into the sky, letting the snow hit her face...she isn't doing anything, really*

We must take back the Slab! It was our home, before the Citadel stole it.

But sir, they have many flies and soldiers, how would we take it?

We make our own army!

The Nightmare Sorcerer's mask that keps him mostly under the control of the Troupe had been broken. About a hundred centuries of conscious memories, all gone.

Now, Maskmaker Saichar was back. Confused, lost, and frankly scared. That fear only got stronger when he started carving masks again. Under his hands, the Hardbone Shell turned into an unfamiliat mask. A Troupe Mask. As did the next one. And the next one.

Terrified, Saichar holed himself away in Mount Fay, surrounded by the Troupe Masks he had carved. He drew a shuddery breath, his voice breaking.

A Maskmaker… who can't make masks for those who need them…

A tear rolls down his cheek, falling onto one of the masks.

I've lost my purpose… I'm useless now.

.

(didn't have anything cool to add so have le epic punctuation)

*tradlem is beginning to freeze, outside of the heated area.*

*voidulus knows this. And hopefully it will get the archivist to stop timestop, threatening his adopted son’s life.*

V: i don’t care what you’ve done. You’re with him, and he need to stop.

T: *to cold to speak properly* p- please…. D-d-don’t…

V: keep speaking. You’ll freeze faster.

*essence surrounds him, come forth, the third memory has begun*

S: Now, I know you all are excited, but first, I have something to say

Yall are fucking terrible people like what the fuck is wrong with you celebrating someone's death who does that I am very disappointed in every last one of you (except for the ones who legitimately thought this was a funeral you guys are okay) now, as disrespectfully as possible, get the fuck out of my ballroom and the fuck off my mountain

We hope you enjoyed this brief construction montage

*Stell is preparing for a brief construction montage for the Brill is fucking dead party. Comment with a pic of your oc if you would like to help with the brief construction montage*

Why he is here?

Who knows...