shilsen
Adventurer
Solarious said:HAVE MY BABIES!!!
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I'm sorry, did I say something? Why are you all looking at me like that?
As promised...
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Nameless replies, “I am not entirely certain why. It could be as simple as I was the first one to touch it.”
“Then again, there are many things I do not fully understand about myself. I am called Nameless, but that is really a description not a name. Whatever it is that names things is absent in me. Most of my past is also veiled from me as well and there is much to indicate that I am not now what I once was or may have been.”
“My mentor in the arcane has a spell that can detect aberrations and for some reason I detect as an aberration to this spell. Several of the creatures in Yarkuun Draal seemed to respond to me as if I were a Daelkyr, and a dream that I had, after we defeated and sealed a Daelkyr using the Key, seemed to indicate that I have in some way been touched by them. Perhaps that has something to do with it as well.”
“Perhaps it is Edgar?” he adds, showing his rock to Saala, “An affinity with one rock could lead to an affinity with others.”
Saala looks a little puzzled. “Edgar?” She begins to turn to Gurr’khan for explanation, when Thlie, who has once again been paying attention, places a twisted hand on her shoulder.
When Saala turns to her, Thlie says nothing. Instead, she slowly levers herself off the ground and hobbles towards Nameless. As she rises and moves, everyone watching can see that both of her legs are twisted and deformed, skin pushed out of place by misshapen bones.
Reaching Nameless, she bends slowly to look into his eyes. Nameless finds himself gazing into two cloudy gray eyes, each of them strangely vacant, with a tiny pinprick of blackness at the center of each. It takes a second or two to realize what else is distinctive about them. As far as Nameless can judge, the eyes are completely and utterly insane.
Her actions, however, are not. Or at least not very much. Thlie leans closer and sniffs at Nameless. Her own breath is somewhat rank and slightly tart. After a series of long sniffs, she straightens up and then hobbles back to her mat, before subsiding onto it. She looks at Saala, who has been waiting silently, and says solemnly, “It doesn’t matter. It’s all in his head. And he cannot use it again. He has too much knowledge now.” She pauses and then adds, “You can trust him. All of them.” There is another pause, and then the demeanor cracks as she giggles loudly. “And they’re all mental. Hee hee!”
Saala looks quizzically at her friend for a few seconds, and then says, “It’s too late for me to stop trusting you, though I’m not going to pretend I know what that means.”
She turns back to Nameless. “You sound honest enough, though I get the feeling you’re not sharing something, but if Thlie says I should trust you, I will. But you still have to answer my original question.” She glances at Gareth, whose attempt to detect thoughts had interrupted the request. “Tell me everything you can about the Key.”
The Angels spend the better part of the next two hours going over every detail they can of their association with the Key and all the events that had the least connection with it. Saala asks questions continuously, revisiting every detail that they bring up. Thlie switches between paying rapt attention to the story and completely ignoring both it and their presence.
When they are finally done, and Saala has asked the last of her questions, she says, “Well, you’ve certainly had an interesting time of things. And for your efforts I thank you.” She falls silent, lowering her head in thought. After a few seconds, she looks up. “I think now it’s time for me – us – to return the favor and tell you what we know. Please remember that what I’m about to tell you now absolutely cannot be revealed to anyone.”
Saala waits for the Angels to all assent and then rises to her feet. She says, “Thlie – you can go ahead. We’ll join you soon.” Thlie nods, rises awkwardly, and hobbles toward the pool. At the water’s edge she turns, gives the group a lopsided smile, and simply falls in. There are a series of ripples and she disappears below the dark surface.
Saala says, “Please prepare for a swim. If you can change to a form or use magic that will help, please do so. Can any of you breathe underwater?” Since Nameless is the only one who cannot do so, she casts a water breathing spell on him.
Then she turns to Gurr’khan, who has been watching with the same curiosity as the Angels, and says, “Follow behind me.” To Six she says, “You can ride me.” With that, Saala transforms into a large crocodile, followed moments later by Gurr’khan and Luna. She heads for the water, carrying Six, followed by the other two druids, with Gareth on Luna’s back, Korm having grown gills and webbing between his fingers to swim alongside, and Nameless availing of a fly spell to help him move through the water.
As the cold waters of the lake close over them, the Angels find that some light filters through the dark water, though dimly. Saala heads directly across the lake, staying only a few feet below the surface. When about halfway across, she descends quickly to a depth of about fifty feet, and continues across the lake.
Within seconds, she reaches the far bank, which seems to descend unusually precipitously from the water’s edge. Gaping in the bank ahead of her is a huge tunnel, over twenty feet across. Saala heads into it, the others following as she swims up the steep slope of the tunnel. The tunnel seems to be natural in origin, but the smoothness of its sides and consistent size makes it clear that it has been worked on too.
Six, riding on her broad back, sees the flickering of torchlight through the water above, seconds before they break through the surface. When they do, Six finds himself near the edge of a pool in the middle of a dark cavern, illuminated only by two everburning torches embedded in the roughly semicircular walls. These walls seem to be made of thickly packed earth, with some stone near the base, rising to a curved ceiling some thirty feet above. A large open doorway in the horizontal wall that makes up the base of the semicircle reveals an even larger chamber, illuminated by many more torches.
Six only notices all of these details a little later, since the first things that draw his attention are the two huge nostrils, each nearly the size of his head, which are no more than three feet from his face when Saala comes to a stop on the bank of the pool. Beneath the huge nostrils is a twisted mouth, half-open to reveal rows of proportionately large teeth.
As Six reflexively half-leaps, half-stumbles off Saala’s back, he looks up past the teeth and the nostrils, along the long snout to the bony cheekbones, above which glow two amber eyes, set deep into sockets at the base of two forward-curving horns, all of which combine to form the almost skeletal face of the huge black dragon watching him.
Saala, changing quickly back to her own form, chuckles as she notes the expressions in the faces of the people emerging from the pool behind her, and then says, “Don’t worry. This is Thlie.” The comment is instantly followed by all of the Angels hurriedly turning and calling to the crocodile Luna, “DON’T flame strike her!”
Luna, once she has reached the bank and changed back, looks at them disgustedly. “I wasn’t going to!”
Saala laughs. “Yes, that would be a bad idea. Let me re-introduce you to Thlielaxara, direct descendant of Vvaraak, the Scaled Apostate.”
As the others study the dragon, they can see that her eyes retain the somewhat vacant stare that Thlie had in her human form, and her four limbs are twisted and deformed too. Even her mouth is twisted, causing acidic drool to drip out, which the Angels quickly back up to avoid.
“Thlie,” says Saala, “Maybe you should switch forms. It’ll be more comfortable.” While Thlie nods and complies, Saala leads the group into the next chamber. As they follow, she says, “This is where Thlie usually lives. We’re actually inside that hill you saw from the opposite side of the lake.”
This chamber seems to be a mixture of bedroom, sitting room and museum. The central area is empty, with a large indented alcove in one side, strewn with rushes to make a rough bed, albeit one much too small for the dragon’s natural form. Near it is a pile of woven mats, which Saala fetches and distributes in a large circle. There is a doorway in the far wall, a thick curtain hanging down over it. The chamber is lit by over a dozen everburning torches in the walls. Their light glitters off the surface of scores of items that have been embedded into the walls of the chamber. These include Eberron dragonshards of various sizes, various skulls (most from animals, but with a couple of humanoid skulls and a few that Nameless and Korm recognize as belonging to aberrations), a few pieces of armor and weapons, a giant arm holding a giant-sized longsword, a single large glowing orb that the Angels recognize as a conductor stone from the lightning rail, a complicated apparatus set into an alcove of its own (which Nameless identifies as an orrery of the planes) and other odd knick-knacks.
As they are sitting down, Six (already having produced a sketchpad to note what he has seen of Thlielaxara’s true form) whispers to Nameless, “Who’s Vvaraak?”
“She’s the dragon who taught Druidism to the Gatekeepers, millennia ago.”
Saala, having heard the question and answer, adds, “Yes. Nameless is well-informed. Vvaraak is the one who brought Druidism to Khorvaire and taught the orcs, who became the first Gatekeepers. Sixteen thousand years ago. Thlielaxara came to the Marches three hundred years ago as a young dragon, to follow in the footsteps of her ancestor, to study what is known as the Draconic Prophecy, and to see the results of Vvaraak’s teachings. She chose to live near the Pond of Shadows, drinking from its waters to gain great prophetic powers, but,” Saala gazes a little sadly at Thlie, “Steadily becoming insane.”
Thlie, now back in human form and sitting near Saala, nods and smiles at the comment. “Yes, Saala is right. I’m quite mad.” She giggles.
“Well, at least she knows it,” mutters Luna, before Saala continues. “Despite her … situation, Thlie remained a friend of the Gatekeepers, and we kept her secret. A hundred years ago, she saved a group of Gatekeepers, including the then leader, from a small army of aberrations from Khyber and a tribe that worshipped the Dragon Below. She was slain in the battle. A grateful Gatekeeper reincarnated her, but her mental fracturing manifested in her shape, and though she was brought back as a dragon, she came back with some physical issues. Nevertheless, Thlie is incredibly well-informed and the best source I know for information about the past, especially anything associated with the dragons, as the Key is.”
Six interrupts politely. “Do you know the beholder Ek’aankh?”
Saala looks a little surprised at the apparently disconnected question. “Yes. That is the name of a legendary monster that terrorized the Shadow Marches. Why?”
“Well, we met him. And had a nice chat. I thought of him since he seemed to know a lot about the past too.”
“Yes,” corroborates Korm. “They did. But I have to admit I didn’t get to, since I was a statue at the time.”
“I see,” says Saala slowly, with a bemused expression that clearly says she doesn’t, “You … chatted … with Ek’aankh. While Korm was a statue.” Gurr’khan just rolls his eyes, not to indicate disbelief so much as resignation to the strange things that seem to have happened to the Angels.
Nameless adds, “I think he’s mellowed a fair bit.” Then he grins. “But you don’t want to wake him suddenly. We gather that he’s crotchety when woken up.”
Six goes on to relate some of what happened. Saala listens and finally says, “Interesting, as seems to be the case with everything in your collective past. Of course, it’s not like he’s likely to be an easy source. Especially not about the Key. But I’ll let Thlie explain about it.”
Turning to Thlie, who has currently lost interest and is mumbling to herself, Saala explains for a little while that she should tell the ‘nice people’ what she told Saala about the Key. Thlie seems to focus, and after a little bit more prodding, turns to the group.
Her explanation takes longer than it normally should, simply because Saala has to bring her back to the point every once in a while. Eventually, Thlie explains that the three progenitor wyrms created (or found) the Prophecy before the creation of the world. But it was forgotten, while demons overran the world in the Age of Demons, ten million years ago. Eventually, the dragons rediscovered the Prophecy and, with other draconic species like the couatls, fought the demons. A hundred thousand years ago, the couatls sacrificed most of their number to first create the Silver Flame and bind the most powerful Demon Lords in Khyber. Over time, some of the demon lords would try to escape, and some of the dragons feared that they would not be permanently bound. To attempt to keep them so, they made numerous inventions and discoveries.
First the dragons invented the dimensional seals, which not only could hold shut manifest zones but, in sufficient numbers, would permanently separate a plane from Eberron (which is what Vvaraak taught the orcs to do for Xoriat). Though immune to most physical and magical damage, seals would leak over time, and they could be destroyed if enough power was brought to bear. Some dragons felt that relying on only the seals was too risky and it is they who built the first of the Keys. Using a Key, one could lock a seal (or an individually bound fiend) so tightly that there was no chance of escape. But in order to have this power, they had to be made able to unlock the seals too. Either ability needed to work through living hosts, who would bind themselves to each Key. As long as the bond remained, the Key would hold the given seal in place. The bond could be passed on from guardian to guardian, so that the Key would always hold. Certain Keys would work differently from others with regard to the relationship with a guardian, and this was especially true in conjunction with non-draconic guardians, since the Keys bonded better to their draconic creators. Keys were built to be usable by true dragons and those trained by them, but as part of their nature, could also be used by those they were meant to bind, like the rakshasas or the daelkyr. While a number of Keys were originally made, most are still in Argonessen. Only a few were actually brought to Khorvaire, usually by dragons who are interested in the Prophecy, and especially those who wish to help the younger races. There are perhaps, Thlie estimates, only a dozen or so Keys in Khorvaire, all probably occupied secretly to hold dimensional seals in place or perhaps waiting to seal one that is weakened. Few non-dragons know of their existence.
Once Thlie has completed relating the details, Saala adds, “Evidently two such Keys were taken to the island near Xen’drik you went to. Your act of bonding with the one evidently created one with the second. Incidentally, since the first Key was used by all of you to re-seal a daelkyr that had escaped, which is something that I’m fairly sure has never happened, the original bond is gone and that seal is as permanent as can be.”
“Are you sure that’s never happened? Considering that nobody knows where the other Keys are, something similar could have happened sometime, right?” asks Six.
Saala shakes her head. “If a daelkyr, and even more a rakshasa rajah, ever escaped, we’d know about it. And so would all of Khorvaire.”
Turning to address the group, Saala continues, “Now you know as much as I do. Due to Thlie’s knowledge and nature, she can actually use the Key. There are a couple of options for you. We could remove your bond to it and….”
“That’s it!” says Luna, “We don’t need any other choices!”
The others laugh but add that she’s probably right. Saala smiles too. “I thought you’d go for that. The other option would be for you to be permanent guardians of the Key.”
That option is quickly vetoed, especially by Luna, and Saala says, “Very well. This will hurt and weaken you. I will try to help as much as possible. If any of you have lesser restoration or similar spells ready or can prepare them, do so. Give me a few minutes.”
She walks over to the far side of the chamber and sits down to meditate. Luna watches her with a big grin on her face. “We’re finally going to get rid of that damn shard. Finally!”
While the Angels are waiting for Saala and talking amongst themselves and to Gurr’khan, Thlie suddenly points at Gareth. “What is that?”
Surprised, Gareth asks, “What?”
“That sword.”
“Kizmet.”
“Can I see it?”
Gareth slowly unsheathes the sword. As he grasps the hilt, he feels a wave of wariness, tinged with slight curiosity. After a second of hesitation, he hands the sword to the dragon as old woman.
Thlie takes the sword and, in what seems to be her customary method dealing with anything, slowly sniffs her way all along the blade. Then she nods and hands it back. “Fiend blade.”
“I beg your pardon? You know what this is?”
“Yes. It is a fiend blade.”
Nameless chuckles. “She’s going to tell you there’s a fiend bound inside it.”
Gareth throws him an irritated look, but his attention is wholly on Thlie. “Can you tell me anything about it? Are there more like it?”
“Yes,” says Thlie, slowly beginning to rock back and forth as she speaks, which sends little flecks of drool spilling down her cheek. “My people first made them. They are made to especially hurt fiends. Some can weaken them. Others prevent the use of some of their abilities, for a time. Fiend blades bind to a certain user over time and develop power as the wielder does. As time goes by, they …..” She stops as a fit of coughing takes her.
Gareth waits patiently, until Thlie stops coughing. When she does, Thlie sniffs, looks up the ceiling and then begins to mumble to herself. When it becomes clear she is no longer interested in or focused on the subject, Gareth says, “Excuse me – can you tell me more about the sword?”
Thlie pauses in her muttering, looks at him curiously, and then says, “You’re pretty!”
A couple of the others guffaw at the unexpected comment, while Gareth simply tries to avoid looking exasperated and ignores the momentary thrill of amusement he feels from the sword. Again, he says, as politely as he can, “Could you please tell me more about the sword? I would greatly appreciate it.”
Thlie nods. “Yes,” she says with finality, “You’re very pretty.”
Luna, still grinning broadly, says, “I don’t think she’s that interested in the sword any more, Gareth.”
As she speaks, Luna is idly scratching her forearm, and Six notices a patch of hair come off under her nails and fall off, leaving a bare patch of skin. “Luna,” he says, pointing at it, “I think you’re losing hair.”
“What?” asks the shifter, before she looks down at the spot. Her eyes go wide and she repeats herself in a yell, “WHAT?!”
“You’re going bald now?” asks Gareth, with a wide grin.
“That’s not ing funny!” snarls Luna, before turning to snatch up the patch of fur and rub the bare area of skin, about two inches across, which is completely smooth.
“Actually, it’s quite funny,” mutters Korm, under his breath.
Gurr’khan grunts, “I told you about those symbionts,” pointing at the band wrapped around Luna’s forearm only a few inches from the bare patch.
Luna shoots him a glare. “Yes, you’re a bloody genius, aren’t you?” She looks back down at the hair and the skin, before raising both hands above her head and screaming her frustration. The scream drowns out the sound of her companions, only partly in humor, grabbing at their heads and saying, “No flame strikes please!”
Luna slams her fists into the ground beside her. “This is too much! Now I’m fat AND going bald?! A tentacle or two I could have borne, but this … is … too … much!!”
She is reaching down to rip the symbionts off her body when she feels a hand on her shoulder. “What’s going on?” asks Saala, whom nobody has noticed walking over to join them.
“Luna’s having a bad hair day,” says Nameless, and then quickly scrambles backward as the angry shifter reaches for him.
“Yes,” says Saala mildly, “I heard a bit of it. And something about the sword. Still, we should deal with the Key, should we not?”
“Yes,” growls Luna. “At least let’s get that off our backs!”