In the quiet hours following the battle at the Shardveil Reading Room, Bogdan Moravec and Viktor Pucovskivich engaged in a profound theological debate regarding the nature of the newly manifested angelic entity. Drawing from his research into a treatise (The Power of Names by Dr. Alaric Shimmy of Tindar) acquired at the Shardveil Reading Room, Bogdan proposed that the act of naming a shard-manifested being does not merely describe its current state but dictates the direction of its future evolution. He argued that since the entity was born from collective intent and the party’s own aspirations, they possessed the unique opportunity to curate its development. Bogdan suggested the name “Nadine,” an old-world term meaning “hope,” believing that providing the downtrodden citizens of St. Petersgrad with a beacon of hope was the only way to balance the scales against the established evil forces in the world, notably the legion.
Viktor remained respectfully skeptical, citing his history as a paladin of a collapsed Shardisite religion and the inherent danger of imbuing any powerful being with further influence. He expressed concern that even the most benevolent intent could be twisted into a tool for manipulation and greed, much like the corporate interests of Viroc Industries. However, Bogdan maintained that Viktor’s very trepidation made him the ideal guardian for such a path, as a warrior with a cautious spirit would ensure the entity’s purity. Ultimately, the two reached a tenuous agreement to feed the manifestation with the ideal of hope, while Viktor vowed to remain vigilant against any sign of corruption.
Simultaneously, the specialist tattoo artist Anya continued the arduous process of etching an arcane design into Lusat Valthorne’s arm and neck. Using the Radiant Transmuter to summon a Lesser Angel as a corporeal blueprint, the room was filled with a heat and brilliance that bordered on the divine. As she worked with Shardisite-laced ink, Anya was overcome by a rare display of raw emotion, weeping and muttering to herself about a past love also named Nadinya who had died years prior in a hospital bed. The connection between the name chosen by Bogdan and the personal tragedy of the artist suggested a resonance that transcended mere coincidence, implying that the seeds of hope planted by the party were already taking root in the city’s spirit.
The tattooing process proved physically taxing for Lusat, as the magical energy being imbued into his flesh fought against his own willpower. Despite his resilience, the pain eventually became overwhelming, and he passed out in the chair. By dawn, the party found Anya transformed; the cynicism that had previously defined her was replaced by a quiet self-actualization. She confessed that speaking her lost lover’s name for the first time in sixteen years had released a burden she had carried since the city fell into shadow. Though the tattoo on Lusat’s arm was finished, it remained unstable, having bound itself in a way that left him in lingering physical pain and requiring several days to fully acclimate to his spirit.
Seeking supplies for their upcoming mission at Brassalo Hospital, the party traveled to the Frackwater Facility, a large private security compound on the northern edge of the city. Recognizing the need for heavy ordnance should their “surgical” approach fail, Viktor utilized his formidable presence and social engineering to bypass the facility's rigid security. After checking their overt weapons at the gate, the group navigated the pompous, medal-heavy atmosphere of the administration building to find the Quartermaster.
Through a high-stakes negotiation involving a refined Shardisite shard recovered from a previous encounter, the party secured approximately two hundred pounds of dynamite and a specialized long-burn fuse. The Quartermaster, a mustachioed veteran with a mechanical leg, made it clear that the transaction was strictly “under the table,” demanding that no record of the explosives ever be traced back to the facility. With the explosives secured in their bag of holding, the group departed the compound unchallenged, having successfully navigated a military installation without a single act of violence.
As the group moved through the city’s Warrens, they encountered the street preacher whom Bogdan had previously defended. The man appeared revitalized, beaming with a new sense of purpose as he and his son distributed hand-written pamphlets to the weary populace. He invited the party to a gathering scheduled for six o'clock that evening, promising bread, soup, and a message of inspiration for all who wished to attend. The preacher credited the party’s presence in the city as the catalyst for his renewed faith, noting that a “new wind” was blowing through St. Petersgrad. While the party focused on their lethal objective at the hospital, the encounter served as a reminder that their actions were beginning to foster a burgeoning movement of resistance among the common citizens.
The party arrived at Brassalo Hospital, a massive fifteen-story white stone structure that smelled of sterility and hidden rot. To gain entry, Viktor faked a severe illness, utilizing his amulet to give his clear mucus a magical, glowing green tint that suggested an uncontrolled arcane contamination. The deception immediately caught the attention of the medical staff, who bypassed their standard coldness and hurried Viktor into a sick bag. During the transition, the party utilized a Telepathic Bond to coordinate their movements and maintain their cover as a Viroc internal security detail.
When a skeptical Viroc official arrived to scrutinize the group, the party doubled down on their ruse. They claimed to be personal agents of Harold Drekanov with a “vested interest” in Viktor's outcome, insisting that they accompany him to the restricted floors for “dark care.” The bluff, supported by their Viroc armor and forged credentials, proved successful. The official led them to an elevator, where they ascended to the twelfth floor, leaving the crowded lobby and the suspicious nurses behind.
The doors of the elevator opened to reveal a hallway that stood in stark contrast to the sterile lower levels of the hospital. The twelfth floor was ornate and heavily carpeted, lined with real plants and decorated with the unmistakable opulence of Viroc’s upper management. However, the air was thick with the metallic scent of unrestrained Shardisite magic, and the atmosphere was one of high-security isolation. Guarding the entrance to the wing were two Atlantean warforged, their stoic forms pulsing with internal green light. As the party stepped onto the floor, the sound of distant, echoing screams suggested that the “research” conducted within Brassalo was every bit as horrific as the rumors suggested. The session concluded with the group positioned at the heart of the enemy’s laboratory, prepared to face whatever twisted experiments Harold Drekanov had seen fit to hide from the world.