Here there were enough paintings of famous de Rolos to make you roll your eyes, though I liked Painter Cowan's series on famous Tiefling de Rolos. I can't say I didn't get a genuine thrill to see the famous Tempest de Rolo of Port Zoon in person. The manor entrance hall also had the even more famous Ascent of the Dusk Maven, and Sophie and I stood in front of that one, too, for a while, if only because we somehow each had become convinced that Tardan Greymoore had been in Whitestone a different amount of years when he first painted it. We finally asked the guard, who said Sophie was right.
Of course Sophie was right. She usually was. She'd lived in Whitestone all her life, and she knew more about its history than the average schoolkid, too. She was my guide through the museum, and here in the manor she didn't even need a map.
I did already know the general story of the Vestiges of Divergence. Growing up in Westrun, I'd even sung about the Titanstone Knuckles while playing children's games with my friends. But as we headed for the upstairs gallery where they were on display, it was Sophie who could tell me about which ones were in the museum and and most of what we knew about their history.
Then we walked in, and there they were. Five of the eight famous Vestiges wielded by Vox Machina. (The Voice of the Tempest still held hers, and the one who'd gone to the Raven Queen had taken his two with him.) Also one that had also come to Whitestone in the centuries since then. They'd gotten another one, too, but since that one had been Lolth's, it was mostly only made available to scholars and such.
For the most part the Grey Hunt Museum didn't use magical displays, but for the Vestiges, they'd put in the spells for magical suspension and barriers, so they floated above the floor, and we could look at them with our view unimpeded even by glass. Of course I had to look at the Knuckles first, the songs I'd sung about it running through my head. I walked round it twice, squinting at its etchings, almost able to smell the dense metal.
I remembered knocking my hands together as if I'd been using them to grow big. They had been maybe half the size, then, of the real thing floating before me, and even as an adult my hands were still smaller than them. That it had the Plate of the Dawnmatyr next to it, and it was still gnome-sized to fit its most recent wearer, made it feel even more massive. Even so, it was strange to think these pieces of metal had done so much towards first pulverizing my home, then saving it, so long ago.
Sophie joined me as I was looking at the Plate. "Shiny, right?' she commented. "Personally, I think Cabal's Ruin looks more impressive, but maybe that's because it was last worn by a human." I looked with her over at the cloak, and at the great bow next to it, fresh leaves still growing out of it. Of all the objects in the room, it was the one that seemed the most interesting to me, and I walked over, wondering if my eyes had played tricks on me or if the twigs sticking out of it were also moving just a little.
At least until Sophie went over to Mythcarver, said, "Watch this," and sung out, "On the waves of the southern seas, heed this tale of my love and me." The sword visibly vibrated with her song, and I changed my mind; this one was the most interesting.
"Should I sing a song from Westrun to it?" I asked. When Sophie grinned, I began, "Children run, and children hide, the Hope Devourer's just outside, and when the night is dark and blue, the Chief of Storms might come for you..." I sung the whole thing, even slamming my fists together once more at all the right points, and Sophie laughed and joined in the chorus. The sword wasn't even moving all that much, but even so it was clear to my eyes that it was dancing along. We couldn't play the game in that space, obviously, but I didn't care. I felt like a powerful bard.
Last up were the Wraps of Dyamak, the odd one out, which had only been in Whitestone for about a century and a half. They were the least impressive-looking of the items too, just two bundles of cloth and strap hanging before us, and seeing blood on things didn't shock and awe me all that much either. Then again, Sophie had told me what they could do, and I guess appearances really can be deceiving.
The plaque identifying them all was on the far wall. I didn't expect it to tell me anything about the Vestiges I didn't already know, but I was kind of curious to see how a museum described objects of gods and legends, how they could be properly and professionally dry in the face of such wonders. But an inscription on the bottom caught my eye, and it shocked me so much I exclaimed it loudly enough to startle the guards: "All objects on loan?! Shouldn't the de Rolos have donated them? Are they really such assholes to insist on retaining ownership?"
But Sophie was smiling, and she said, "Oh, they're not on loan from them. None of them besides Cabal's Ruin and Fenthras ever belonged to the de Rolos in the first place. You might notice it doesn't say where they're on loan from, and when these things are always supposed to. But that's because they aren't properly on loan from any museum or other entity."
"Then who are they on loan from?" I demanded, confused, and unhappy about that.
"Why, their future wielders, of course." At the look I gave her, she exchanged and odd and long look with the guard, then said, "I suppose this is something Whitestone remembers better than other cities, maybe because we have an underground temple that has attracted the world's scariest evildoers. Of course our century hasn't been as exciting as Vox Machina's, and hopefully our lives never will be. But sooner or later, there will be another Cinder King-or another Hope Devourer, or another Lord and Lady Briarwood, or maybe even another Vecna, or even worse.
With most objects, once they're in a museum, their time to do more than just be looked at has passed. But that time's not going to come for these things. They can float here and be looked at right now, but one day, they'll be returned to the hands of heroes, and hopefully they'll use them to save the world again. That's why they're on loan."
I knew enough about the history of both the Vestiges and Whitestone to know the rest of what Sophie was thinking. Had I not, I might have asked how the keepers of this museum would've known who to hand them over to, and who to refuse. One could say that was a question that could've been asked of whoever kept them, and maybe one with no good answer. But given who the majority of them had been in possession of when Vox Machina had taken them, there was really no disputing they'd be better off being held here until then.
A group of students, kids in their early teens, were coming in, enough to make the room too crowded. Sophie came over and took my hand, and together we pushed past them and out of the gallery. The Vestiges of Divergence were the most incredible thing in the museum, but she still had more things to show me before the museum closed.