The Blue Wingkin Likes Being Biresh

Elmyra and Ash went in without the party's usual comfort of weapons and wondrous backup.

The blue Wingkin was not in a cell.

He lounged on a crude blue-draped platform while goblins fanned and adored him. The Emrites chanted Biresh, and the Wingkin performed for them by eating and belching lightning, turning his own nature into proof for an audience already desperate to believe.

When questioned, he said he was great.

That was the problem.

He had no interest in returning to Orval Finkus, and no interest in inviting other Wingkin to share the attention. The missing blue Wingkin was alive and materially safe, but the rescue had arrived at a morally irritating version of success. He was not begging to be saved. He was enjoying, exploiting, or at least comfortably occupying the worship the Emrites had built around him.

The name around the platform was Biresh, echoed in the transcript as Byrash or Byrash II, but the likely canonical person beneath it was Valbrandt Wingkin.

The party had found him.

Now they had to decide whether being found was enough.