(( Glossary Updated: Onward to story time! ))
Locklear sat idly, puffing his pipe, watching this manor slowly fade into the material world. Much had transpired, much indeed. The hot air from the drifting the jungle, the odd arcane wards that the manor held kept the temperature at a much lower less humid level. The walls slowly forming brick by brick plank by plank. Halsey sat meditating in the center of the building, pondering.
Much had occurred, He had made contact with a native god of the land, curious enough. Strong, he had engaged it in combat at its request. It offered him in turn a head at its army. An appeal to vanity he assumed. He was unwilling to offer his assistance to something he had only met but recently had have very little conversation with. His mind mulled over what possibly could be this "gods" aim. But for another time he decided. He had many other things to focus on. He had finally made contact with Cerce, at the All Father's suggestion. Cerce was a daemon pact, something Halsey was less then inclined to believe and even less then to follow. But.. There was an air of honesty around him, that stayed Locklear's hand, something was true, but to what he could not know. The Daemon he had combated had Saera and Cerce in his thralls..... A terrible turn of events. Locklear sat, puffing his pipe, the faint wisps of smoke drifting and slowly dissipating into nothingness. They both were daemon pacts..... So the odd twinge Locklear felt was not merely frayed nerves, but the hinting they served a ruinous power. Locklear sighed tiredly, Those he considered trust worthy council were in league with the daemon. Halsey merely shrugged, no matter, he would keep a close eye on them trio, something seemed..... wrong as if something was being hidden from his sight as to their intentions.
Locklear had inquired about this "One" It seemed it was the traditional omnipotent and all powerful class of god. A curious idea, something greater then the "gods" that roamed these lands. But by all means, something he would have to ponder carefully. He himself personally subscribed to this ideology, but the words that come from Cerce's and Saera's lips are from those that make pacts with daemons. Perhaps both fail to see the power of faith, it is a muddy topic. If your deity reigns above all others.....what is there to fear? Locklear shook his head, No no.... Its not the time for ideological debates, there is much to do.
Locklear looked up at the moon and sighed, he muttered a prayer, and rose again, starting to resume his search for Gungnir, it was around this mansion....somewhere..... He only needed to find it now....