Caldrin wakes from his Reverie, startled by his dark visions. He shakes his head and blinks away sweat from his eyes. He knew what he'd experienced is what humans call a nightmare. Once he calms himself with his breathing, he looks around his and Vak'tiel's room and notes that the tiefling has already awoke and left the room. He cleans himself up and gathers his things before heading out into the hallway. He runs into Sarten at the top of the stairs and two of them head down to the Felled Ogre's common hall.
He finds that most of the others were up already. A large table of food dominates the hall and Caldrin sees that Vak'tiel is already barting for more wine. Cal smiles to himself. He knows the tiefling can handle it. Durst greets the kobold first, offering him a kobold delicacy, and then watches as the warmage takes a modest portion.
Originally Posted by kinem
Sarten shakes his head in an an attempt to clear it. Just a dream. I should have gone to bed earlier.
He orders an egg and water for breakfast, quietly lost in his thoughts for now.
Durst notes that Sarten only takes some eggs and a mug of water.
"Nothing more, Sarten?"
Durst then notices Cal.
"Ah, Caldrin." Durst says with a big smile.
"I've made something special for you. There is something called Wina Talla and an elven wine called Zintalistra. The first glass is free. After that, you'll have to pay 5 gold per glass."
"Wina Talla, never heard of it," Cal replies.
"And I doubt its real Zintalistra. That is... impossible."
"Really?" Durst points out the bottle and the elven dish.
The Wina Talla smells very familiar to Caldrin. He immediately flashes back to his earliest childhood memories.
"It cannot be," he gasps.
"Tassarvene! The meat is, different, but it's definitely Tassarvene." The elf grabs a plate and fills it with the elven dish and some seeded bread to eat with it. He almost forgets about the wine. He picks it up, examines it, and nearly drops it on the floor.
"Careful," Durst says.
"Wh- where did you get this bottle?" Cal's tone is immediately serious.
“A merchant I recently met sold it to me,” Durst replies.
“Is it not what it's supposed to be? I'd hate to have gotten swindled.”
“Is this the same trader who sold you the poisoned bottle from last night?” Cal asks.
“Of course not!” Durst exclaims.
“I'd never be so foolish as to serve wine from a bad lot. Now, what is it? The price I paid for it and the other seven bottles was substantial, but it seemed fair considering the merchant told me the vintage is quite rare.”
"Other seven bottles!" Call yells.
Cal's knees nearly give out under him.
'This cannot be a coincidence,' he thinks.
'For them to be here at this time.' His gaze crosses the face of his friend Vak'tiel for a moment before landing squarely on the face of Shrough who is standing nearby.
'Does he know? I wonder.' Cal sits down in a chair near the table cradling the precious bottle in both hands.
Cal, what's is it?” Caius asks.
“Thylaththeas... this bottle... and the others come from Thylaththeas. If they're real.” He looks at the bottle again.
“No, it's not a fake. There is no way a non-elf could have ever have fabricated them and no elf would ever do something so, so sacrilege. At least, I hope not.” He looks at Durst.
“I can hardly believe that you have eight bottles of true Zintalistra let alone one.”
“So, they are valuable. Is the wine any good?”
“You do not understand, you cannot serve this to your guests! And to sell it by the glass would be considered sacrilege to elves!”
"Cal, you need to calm down and explain,” Caius insists.
“And while I can tell this is important to you, the bottles belong to Durst. They are his to do with as he pleases.”
“You don't understand,” Cal sighs.
“This isn't just about me. If Shrough knows what I know, he won't want anyone drinking it either and I know that there are elves in Bard's Gate. If they learn Durst has 8 bottles of Zintalistra, it could lead to chaos in the streets.”
“You mentioned Thylaththeas, what is that?” Durst asks calmly.
“Thylaththeas is a legend,” Cal shakes his head.
“Well, I always believed it was a legend, but here is the proof of it.” He holds up the bottle. “Thylaththeas was an ancient elven civilization that once flourished on and around Tinechorean Peninsula, which divides the Illiadis Sea from the Varv-Aran Sea. Thylaththeas was both a city-state and a seafaring empire that dominated commerce and warfare throughout much of what is know known as the Center Lands. My people believe that it was the Elven gods that taught the Hellenic gods about the universe and when they rose up against the Titans, it was with the help of Corellon and the rest of the Seldarine that they claimed their rightful place as the Olympians.
“That is where the legend of Thylaththeas begins. The city-state was founded by the elves as place to work with and worship beside humanity as equals. While the populace started out mainly elvish, the kingdom quickly brought all the humans in the region together in unity. Both the Hellenics and the Seldarine were considered the patron gods of the city-state, and it was Thylaththeas that became the center for the culture that would come to dominate all the lands around the Tinechorean Peninsula to this day.”
“And, the bottles, why are they important?” Caius asks.
“Zintalistra was a gift from the gods to the elven leaders of Thylaththeas,” Cal replies.
“The legend describes them as an Ambrosia, a type of magical drink that grants immortality those who drink it. While I doubt that is true, the act of drinking from such a bottle would be an affront to the history of elvenkind. If news of these bottles gets out, the elves in Bard's Gate will want to safeguard them from those who, they believe, would test the legend. If they are denied this birthright, it could lead to disaster for all of Bard's Gate.”
“I had no idea,” Durst sighs.
“I'm sorry, but you must give them up not only for your own safety but the safety of the city.”
“I cannot do that,” Durst replies.
“I'm going to have to let the Brewers and Distillers Guild know about them. To do otherwise could cost me my business. The guild will likely want to take charge of them until this story can be verified, if that's even possible. They might even want to auction them off.”
“You cannot let them do that!”
“Easy, Cal. There are guild laws Durst must obey, as there are laws I must obey,” Caius says.
“I will have to tell my superiors about the bottles as well. They will work to convince the guild to keep this quiet, but it might already be too late.” Caius looks at several of the Ogre's other guests who'd been listening to the conversation.
“We will do what we can, after all, no one here wants rioting in the streets.” The Free Defender makes sure he locks eyes with every guest in the room before looking at Durst.
“You're going to have tell you employees to keep this quiet.”
“I will tell them to stay silent,” Durst replies.
“They c-cannot be s-sold,” Cal says glumly.
“It would be a disaster.”
“More than likely the leaders of the city will confiscate the bottles from the guild. A price might have to be paid from the city's coffers to the guild, but I'm sure High Burgess Cyleria will want to keep the city from descending into chaos. She is a half-elf, after all,” Durst tries to assure Cal.
“I hope you are right,” Cal stands up and places the bottle on the table carefully. He searches for its cork, which he finds sitting on the table near the elven dish. He places the cork back in the bottle just as Durst walks over to him and helps reseal the bottle.
Cal thinks about his nightmare as the two of them reseal the bottle with its cork and some wax.
'There are eight bottles and there were supposed to be eight of us,' he thinks. He remembers an old love who had shared his passion for the legends of the elvish people. He'd watched her die in his dream just like he'd watched her die in real life.
“Amkissra,” he mumbles to himself.
“Does this have something to do with you?”
Durst looks a him, puzzled.
“I have to ask, did anyone else here have a disturbing dream last night? What humans call a nightmare?”
