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Shilsen's Eberron SH (Finished - The Last Word : 9/20/15)
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<blockquote data-quote="shilsen" data-source="post: 6705004" data-attributes="member: 198"><p><strong>AFTERMATH (Part 1)</strong></p><p></p><p>And finally, only a few years late, here is the completion of the tale of the Guardian Angels...</p><p></p><p>* * * * * </p><p>“What?” says Korm, floating around to face Nameless. “What do you mean you won’t be coming with us?”</p><p></p><p>Six queries too, “Can you even survive here? And for how long?”</p><p></p><p>Gareth asks, “Why would you choose to stay behind?”</p><p></p><p>Luna puts it more succinctly. “Are you NUTS???”</p><p></p><p>The alienist closes his eyes for a few seconds. Now, with the battle over, Nameless is free to fully experience—and revel in—his connection with Xoriat, one far closer than any alienist (or, likely, mortal human) has ever experienced. The combination of the silver energy within him and his position within the <em>kuch-naa</em> fills him with not just energy but also an almost overwhelming amount of information. Back on Khorvaire, even his stupendous intellect might have been overwhelmed by it, but in his state of heightened power and awareness, he can withstand and even assimilate much of it, though even that takes some effort.</p><p></p><p>Reopening his eyes, Nameless begins to speak, attempting to translate the knowledge that he feels viscerally into words that his companions can comprehend. “Unfortunately, there is no easy way back to Eberron from where we are. No normal spell or mage, even one as powerful as I am, could escape this place. A <em>wish</em>, if one were able to exist here long enough to cast it, would do nothing. Right now, however, we hold an immense amount of power in our hands, more than that of a thousand <em>wish</em>es—all that Mual’tar and,” he smirks, glancing at the spot that the daelkyr lord had so recently occupied, “Aunty drained from the Silver Flame and the Mournland, as well as the considerable other energies they contained.” </p><p></p><p>“With that power, we have the ability to heal much of the harm that we have—however inadvertently—caused. We can reshape the face of Eberron, altering its destiny for centuries to come. However,” he adds quickly, seeing the impending questions on the faces of his companions, “this energy we have is not infinite. There is a way that we can accomplish most of it, but, as always, this power comes with a price—everything that we have accumulated and even our lives.”</p><p></p><p>“Wha- ?!”</p><p></p><p>Nameless raises his tentacle to silence the others. “Let me explain. We will have to use a significant amount of the energy we have to force open a gate back to Eberron and we will have to spend more of it for each person who chooses to return, because each gate will only open for a fraction of a moment. Passing through will drain you of even more life energy, so you will return to Khorvaire diminished from what you were before you left it. However, if we do not go back—the willing sacrifice of the life of someone as powerful as each of us will substantially augment the energy we have.”</p><p></p><p>The alienist’s rasping tones are as dispassionate as ever when he mentions the possibility of death, and he calmly continues, “Now to our choices. First, the dimensional seals must be restored. Eberron will never be able to withstand the forces from Xoriat, which continue to enter Khorvaire even now. So we must do that before anything else.” </p><p></p><p>“We could permanently seal Xoriat away, but that would take a great deal of energy and,” he smiles thinly, “for sentimental reasons I would like there to remain at least some fragment of connection to Xoriat. Things would not be the same without it and who knows what the future may bring? Someday it might even be needed.”</p><p></p><p>“Personally, I wish to heal the Mournland. I was there at its creation and it seems fitting that my passing should finally heal that wound. So, for that, I am willing to give up my life. I will not be returning to Eberron. What say you all?” There is complete finality in Nameless’ tones as he falls silent, looking around at his companions for their responses.</p><p></p><p>There is silence for a few moments. Even though they would not have been able to decipher this information on their own, their connection to Xoriat and to Nameless through their shared access to the silver energy allows them to quickly realize the truth of his words. Each member of the Angels mulls over the enormity of what he has said and the options available to them. </p><p></p><p>Luna’s mind flits over the situation in Khorvaire, the myriad things the Angels have seen and the people they have interacted with, and though Nameless’ words speak of large issues like the Mournland and the dimensional seals, her thoughts continually return to more personal things—her room at the Gray House, the plans she had made for seeing more of the world (perhaps with a certain handsome pirate prince in tow), and, above all, the changes that had happened within her even before she was filled with such power. </p><p></p><p>She shakes her head decisively. “I AM <em>NOT</em> DYING! I’m having babies!” She pauses to mutter, “Whatever they are …,” and then looks around belligerently, just in case there is any disagreement. Seeing none, her expression changes and she smiles. “But I will give you as much energy as I can.” The smile turns wistful. “I wish you were coming back, Nameless. I will miss you,” Luna says, but the tone holds no hope of changing the alienist’s mind. Then her expression turns more serious again, “And I am keeping my stuff! Nobody gets to take that!”</p><p></p><p>“Perish the thought,” Nameless said dryly. “You’ll be the best equipped novice druid in Eberron.”</p><p></p><p>Korm chuckles deeply. “Especially since you can take mine too! I am not going back either.” At Luna’s startled glance, the Gatekeeper shrugs his massive shoulders. “I never expected to come back from this alive. I just wanted to be a worthy wielder of the blade—and to become famous, like the great Gatekeepers before me. I think,” he laughs proudly, “that has been achieved. And,” he glances at Nameless, “if we can strengthen the dimensional seals—and heal the Mournland—which I would like to do too, then they will be making statues and singing songs about me forever! Oh,” he turns to Luna, “and eating at my restaurants. Since I’m not going back, you need to open the chain for me!”</p><p></p><p>Luna nods and begins to answer when Six speaks, slower and even more precise than usual, “I too would like the Mournland healed, but I ask that we try something else as well. My people have no future, as things currently stand. There are no active creation forges to make new warforged—certainly none in our hands. I would like to reactivate one and ensure that we have control over it. I …,” Six pauses uncharacteristically, a slight hint of emotion creeping into his voice, “wish to guide my people as best I can, and will sacrifice myself to do so. Something of the kind should be possible—Nameless?”</p><p></p><p>“Certainly,” says the alienist. “We can simply transport a creation forge to an isolated island. Your people do not drown, so perhaps you can found the warforged seafaring nation that Luna spoke of.”</p><p></p><p>“YES!” Luna says enthusiastically. “PIRATES! Just like my boyfriend!”</p><p></p><p>Nameless sighs and continues, “As to guiding your people, it would just be… an echo of yourself, but that will not take much power. Your people will be more fortunate than they know in having your advice.”</p><p></p><p>“Wait!” interrupts Gareth. “What about the Silver Flame? If we can do all this, we can certainly bring it back—and all of you, all of us, owe the Flame. That is much more important than things like the Mournland!” </p><p></p><p>“Yes, we are quite aware of our debts, Gareth,” Nameless replies dryly, “but we have limited resources. Even if we were willing to give up everything other than the dimensional seals, I am not sure we could fully restore it even then. The Silver Flame is an artifact of belief and sacrifice. None of us save you are believers or have any faith in it. Speaking of which—do you intend to stay here or return to Khorvaire?”</p><p></p><p>“I have to return,” Gareth quickly responds. “I am getting married! And there is much more I have to do in Khorvaire! The Silver Flame needs…”</p><p></p><p>Speaking with deceptive mildness, Nameless cuts him off. “Gareth, let me see if I am understanding you correctly. You know that Korm, Six and I have already agreed to give up not just all our power, but our very lives, everything we are or would ever be. Yet, you—who are unwilling to make the same sacrifice—want us to not heal the Mournland in order to restore the symbol and focus of <em>your</em> religion.”</p><p></p><p>“You do realize, Gareth,” he continues, voice rising as he goes on, “that you have an opportunity here to do what only <em>one</em> person in the history of Eberron has ever had. You can give life back to the Silver Flame, restoring it to Khorvaire after it was quenched. Your name would be forever mentioned in the same breath as Tira Miron and you would have equal status to her in the annals of your church. Your spirit would be a major part of the focus of your religion. And yet you ask us to give up our goals?”</p><p></p><p>“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?”</p><p></p><p>The silence is punctuated by Korm’s guffaws. “Damn you two! This is why I cannot return to Khorvaire. Where would I ever find entertainment like this again?!”</p><p></p><p>Gareth ignores the Gatekeeper’s laughter (and that of Luna and Six, which follows close behind), his face crimsoning as he responds angrily, “For the last time, Nameless, just because you have always been willing to kill yourself does not mean I want to do so. You are not responsible for the Mournland. You did not destroy it. You are, however, responsible for destroying the evil we just fought—you and the rest of us. We started together, fighting and losing to bandits, and here we are—in some place no human has ever been—and still fighting each other. You may want to, but I do not want to die when there is still much good I can do. There is much you could do … but it’s your life and choice.”</p><p></p><p>“There is,” he continues, waving a hand at the ‘window’ back to Khorvaire, “a lot that needs to be done, and few out there who can or are willing to. We would serve the realms so much better by being alive to fight the fight—but you have always been too eager to die. It is my choice to live. We all have our motivations: Six wants to die and help the warforged; Korm wants to die to heal the seals and have statues erected in his name. We have limited resources to help Khorvaire and many options. First we must shut down this link to Xoriat—at least we all agree on that. As usual, for us, we agree on nothing else.”</p><p></p><p>“I will,” Gareth adds, “sacrifice most of my life force, all but what is needed to live, and I want that energy to go towards healing the Silver Flame. The Church was instrumental in getting us here, from the miracles they created to bring us back to life, to the energy we have been imbued with, to the resources they provided and the political support they gave us when others would not. How could you turn your back on them now? Instead you want to heal the Mournland, an immense plot of land which nobody lives on, and where all who have died would remain dead anyway. I will say,” he glances at Six, “that I am fine with imbuing the warforged with additional abilities, but we can’t have everything. We need to agree.”</p><p></p><p>Nameless gives Gareth a dirty look. “You know what—I am just too tired to argue any more. We will bring back the Flame as a pale shadow of what it once was. What you are giving up is insufficient to do even that, but I will devote some of my energy to it. To be honest, it is only for Jaela’s sake that I would be willing to do anything at all. I am quite fond of her and hold her in high regard. She’s one of the few people in Khorvaire who has earned my respect and admiration. She may no longer be the keeper, but I owe her, not your religion, and I know this will comfort her somewhat. Besides, it should be amusing to have some of my essence in the Silver Flame. So though we cannot restore it to its full former power we will bring back the Flame—<em>and</em> we will also heal the Mournland.”</p><p></p><p>“Now I do want you to understand exactly what I am surrendering myself to, by giving up my life. See that?” He gestures at the monstrous figures crawling around the outside of the <em>kuch-naa</em>. “I struck a bargain with a Great Old One for the powers I obtained and, as part of that bargain, when I die I am going to be subsumed by Cyäegha. Do you remember what probing the Ziggurat did to your fragile little mind? This is going to be infinitely worse, far beyond your imaginings, and given that time does not exist for them, it will go on forever. This bargain I made of my own free will, with full knowledge of what would happen, because I needed the power to help save Eberron.” </p><p></p><p>“I have always wondered how I would face my end when it came. If I would cower in a basement hiding from the full horror of what was going to happen to me or if I would be roaring my defiance into the face of a storm, but it is neither. I am ending my life calmly and in the fulfillment of a long held dream.” </p><p></p><p>“While,” he adds disdainfully, “you need to go and get married. So go and do that. I no longer care. I have sacrificed much and am giving up more.”</p><p></p><p>Nameless sighs. “You say I am eager to die and there is some truth in that. I am tired, so very, very tired. I lost a piece of myself when Kha’tvan’ga was destroyed—it was no mere companion, but part of me. I am weary of catastrophes threatened by a single wrong move and having the fate of Eberron resting on my shoulders, not to mention having to ride herd on our merry band of maniacs. I know you have always been suspicious of me and I am tired of that as well. My conscience is clear. So go now, Gareth. You have, for the last time, confirmed my option of you.”</p><p></p><p>Before Gareth can respond, the alienist looks around. “Let us do this! Link your minds with mine.”</p><p></p><p>Not wanting to waste any more time arguing, Luna, Six and Korm comply, and Gareth does so a few moments later. Already imbued with incredible power as they individually were, the five Guardian Angels feel an instant upsurge of soul energy as they will themselves to link up, minds momentarily reeling as they realize that this is what it must feel like to be gods. And then, like gods, they simply will things into being…</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="shilsen, post: 6705004, member: 198"] [b]AFTERMATH (Part 1)[/b] And finally, only a few years late, here is the completion of the tale of the Guardian Angels... * * * * * “What?” says Korm, floating around to face Nameless. “What do you mean you won’t be coming with us?” Six queries too, “Can you even survive here? And for how long?” Gareth asks, “Why would you choose to stay behind?” Luna puts it more succinctly. “Are you NUTS???” The alienist closes his eyes for a few seconds. Now, with the battle over, Nameless is free to fully experience—and revel in—his connection with Xoriat, one far closer than any alienist (or, likely, mortal human) has ever experienced. The combination of the silver energy within him and his position within the [i]kuch-naa[/i] fills him with not just energy but also an almost overwhelming amount of information. Back on Khorvaire, even his stupendous intellect might have been overwhelmed by it, but in his state of heightened power and awareness, he can withstand and even assimilate much of it, though even that takes some effort. Reopening his eyes, Nameless begins to speak, attempting to translate the knowledge that he feels viscerally into words that his companions can comprehend. “Unfortunately, there is no easy way back to Eberron from where we are. No normal spell or mage, even one as powerful as I am, could escape this place. A [i]wish[/i], if one were able to exist here long enough to cast it, would do nothing. Right now, however, we hold an immense amount of power in our hands, more than that of a thousand [i]wish[/i]es—all that Mual’tar and,” he smirks, glancing at the spot that the daelkyr lord had so recently occupied, “Aunty drained from the Silver Flame and the Mournland, as well as the considerable other energies they contained.” “With that power, we have the ability to heal much of the harm that we have—however inadvertently—caused. We can reshape the face of Eberron, altering its destiny for centuries to come. However,” he adds quickly, seeing the impending questions on the faces of his companions, “this energy we have is not infinite. There is a way that we can accomplish most of it, but, as always, this power comes with a price—everything that we have accumulated and even our lives.” “Wha- ?!” Nameless raises his tentacle to silence the others. “Let me explain. We will have to use a significant amount of the energy we have to force open a gate back to Eberron and we will have to spend more of it for each person who chooses to return, because each gate will only open for a fraction of a moment. Passing through will drain you of even more life energy, so you will return to Khorvaire diminished from what you were before you left it. However, if we do not go back—the willing sacrifice of the life of someone as powerful as each of us will substantially augment the energy we have.” The alienist’s rasping tones are as dispassionate as ever when he mentions the possibility of death, and he calmly continues, “Now to our choices. First, the dimensional seals must be restored. Eberron will never be able to withstand the forces from Xoriat, which continue to enter Khorvaire even now. So we must do that before anything else.” “We could permanently seal Xoriat away, but that would take a great deal of energy and,” he smiles thinly, “for sentimental reasons I would like there to remain at least some fragment of connection to Xoriat. Things would not be the same without it and who knows what the future may bring? Someday it might even be needed.” “Personally, I wish to heal the Mournland. I was there at its creation and it seems fitting that my passing should finally heal that wound. So, for that, I am willing to give up my life. I will not be returning to Eberron. What say you all?” There is complete finality in Nameless’ tones as he falls silent, looking around at his companions for their responses. There is silence for a few moments. Even though they would not have been able to decipher this information on their own, their connection to Xoriat and to Nameless through their shared access to the silver energy allows them to quickly realize the truth of his words. Each member of the Angels mulls over the enormity of what he has said and the options available to them. Luna’s mind flits over the situation in Khorvaire, the myriad things the Angels have seen and the people they have interacted with, and though Nameless’ words speak of large issues like the Mournland and the dimensional seals, her thoughts continually return to more personal things—her room at the Gray House, the plans she had made for seeing more of the world (perhaps with a certain handsome pirate prince in tow), and, above all, the changes that had happened within her even before she was filled with such power. She shakes her head decisively. “I AM [i]NOT[/i] DYING! I’m having babies!” She pauses to mutter, “Whatever they are …,” and then looks around belligerently, just in case there is any disagreement. Seeing none, her expression changes and she smiles. “But I will give you as much energy as I can.” The smile turns wistful. “I wish you were coming back, Nameless. I will miss you,” Luna says, but the tone holds no hope of changing the alienist’s mind. Then her expression turns more serious again, “And I am keeping my stuff! Nobody gets to take that!” “Perish the thought,” Nameless said dryly. “You’ll be the best equipped novice druid in Eberron.” Korm chuckles deeply. “Especially since you can take mine too! I am not going back either.” At Luna’s startled glance, the Gatekeeper shrugs his massive shoulders. “I never expected to come back from this alive. I just wanted to be a worthy wielder of the blade—and to become famous, like the great Gatekeepers before me. I think,” he laughs proudly, “that has been achieved. And,” he glances at Nameless, “if we can strengthen the dimensional seals—and heal the Mournland—which I would like to do too, then they will be making statues and singing songs about me forever! Oh,” he turns to Luna, “and eating at my restaurants. Since I’m not going back, you need to open the chain for me!” Luna nods and begins to answer when Six speaks, slower and even more precise than usual, “I too would like the Mournland healed, but I ask that we try something else as well. My people have no future, as things currently stand. There are no active creation forges to make new warforged—certainly none in our hands. I would like to reactivate one and ensure that we have control over it. I …,” Six pauses uncharacteristically, a slight hint of emotion creeping into his voice, “wish to guide my people as best I can, and will sacrifice myself to do so. Something of the kind should be possible—Nameless?” “Certainly,” says the alienist. “We can simply transport a creation forge to an isolated island. Your people do not drown, so perhaps you can found the warforged seafaring nation that Luna spoke of.” “YES!” Luna says enthusiastically. “PIRATES! Just like my boyfriend!” Nameless sighs and continues, “As to guiding your people, it would just be… an echo of yourself, but that will not take much power. Your people will be more fortunate than they know in having your advice.” “Wait!” interrupts Gareth. “What about the Silver Flame? If we can do all this, we can certainly bring it back—and all of you, all of us, owe the Flame. That is much more important than things like the Mournland!” “Yes, we are quite aware of our debts, Gareth,” Nameless replies dryly, “but we have limited resources. Even if we were willing to give up everything other than the dimensional seals, I am not sure we could fully restore it even then. The Silver Flame is an artifact of belief and sacrifice. None of us save you are believers or have any faith in it. Speaking of which—do you intend to stay here or return to Khorvaire?” “I have to return,” Gareth quickly responds. “I am getting married! And there is much more I have to do in Khorvaire! The Silver Flame needs…” Speaking with deceptive mildness, Nameless cuts him off. “Gareth, let me see if I am understanding you correctly. You know that Korm, Six and I have already agreed to give up not just all our power, but our very lives, everything we are or would ever be. Yet, you—who are unwilling to make the same sacrifice—want us to not heal the Mournland in order to restore the symbol and focus of [i]your[/i] religion.” “You do realize, Gareth,” he continues, voice rising as he goes on, “that you have an opportunity here to do what only [i]one[/i] person in the history of Eberron has ever had. You can give life back to the Silver Flame, restoring it to Khorvaire after it was quenched. Your name would be forever mentioned in the same breath as Tira Miron and you would have equal status to her in the annals of your church. Your spirit would be a major part of the focus of your religion. And yet you ask us to give up our goals?” “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?” The silence is punctuated by Korm’s guffaws. “Damn you two! This is why I cannot return to Khorvaire. Where would I ever find entertainment like this again?!” Gareth ignores the Gatekeeper’s laughter (and that of Luna and Six, which follows close behind), his face crimsoning as he responds angrily, “For the last time, Nameless, just because you have always been willing to kill yourself does not mean I want to do so. You are not responsible for the Mournland. You did not destroy it. You are, however, responsible for destroying the evil we just fought—you and the rest of us. We started together, fighting and losing to bandits, and here we are—in some place no human has ever been—and still fighting each other. You may want to, but I do not want to die when there is still much good I can do. There is much you could do … but it’s your life and choice.” “There is,” he continues, waving a hand at the ‘window’ back to Khorvaire, “a lot that needs to be done, and few out there who can or are willing to. We would serve the realms so much better by being alive to fight the fight—but you have always been too eager to die. It is my choice to live. We all have our motivations: Six wants to die and help the warforged; Korm wants to die to heal the seals and have statues erected in his name. We have limited resources to help Khorvaire and many options. First we must shut down this link to Xoriat—at least we all agree on that. As usual, for us, we agree on nothing else.” “I will,” Gareth adds, “sacrifice most of my life force, all but what is needed to live, and I want that energy to go towards healing the Silver Flame. The Church was instrumental in getting us here, from the miracles they created to bring us back to life, to the energy we have been imbued with, to the resources they provided and the political support they gave us when others would not. How could you turn your back on them now? Instead you want to heal the Mournland, an immense plot of land which nobody lives on, and where all who have died would remain dead anyway. I will say,” he glances at Six, “that I am fine with imbuing the warforged with additional abilities, but we can’t have everything. We need to agree.” Nameless gives Gareth a dirty look. “You know what—I am just too tired to argue any more. We will bring back the Flame as a pale shadow of what it once was. What you are giving up is insufficient to do even that, but I will devote some of my energy to it. To be honest, it is only for Jaela’s sake that I would be willing to do anything at all. I am quite fond of her and hold her in high regard. She’s one of the few people in Khorvaire who has earned my respect and admiration. She may no longer be the keeper, but I owe her, not your religion, and I know this will comfort her somewhat. Besides, it should be amusing to have some of my essence in the Silver Flame. So though we cannot restore it to its full former power we will bring back the Flame—[i]and[/i] we will also heal the Mournland.” “Now I do want you to understand exactly what I am surrendering myself to, by giving up my life. See that?” He gestures at the monstrous figures crawling around the outside of the [i]kuch-naa[/i]. “I struck a bargain with a Great Old One for the powers I obtained and, as part of that bargain, when I die I am going to be subsumed by Cyäegha. Do you remember what probing the Ziggurat did to your fragile little mind? This is going to be infinitely worse, far beyond your imaginings, and given that time does not exist for them, it will go on forever. This bargain I made of my own free will, with full knowledge of what would happen, because I needed the power to help save Eberron.” “I have always wondered how I would face my end when it came. If I would cower in a basement hiding from the full horror of what was going to happen to me or if I would be roaring my defiance into the face of a storm, but it is neither. I am ending my life calmly and in the fulfillment of a long held dream.” “While,” he adds disdainfully, “you need to go and get married. So go and do that. I no longer care. I have sacrificed much and am giving up more.” Nameless sighs. “You say I am eager to die and there is some truth in that. I am tired, so very, very tired. I lost a piece of myself when Kha’tvan’ga was destroyed—it was no mere companion, but part of me. I am weary of catastrophes threatened by a single wrong move and having the fate of Eberron resting on my shoulders, not to mention having to ride herd on our merry band of maniacs. I know you have always been suspicious of me and I am tired of that as well. My conscience is clear. So go now, Gareth. You have, for the last time, confirmed my option of you.” Before Gareth can respond, the alienist looks around. “Let us do this! Link your minds with mine.” Not wanting to waste any more time arguing, Luna, Six and Korm comply, and Gareth does so a few moments later. Already imbued with incredible power as they individually were, the five Guardian Angels feel an instant upsurge of soul energy as they will themselves to link up, minds momentarily reeling as they realize that this is what it must feel like to be gods. And then, like gods, they simply will things into being… [/QUOTE]
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Story Hour
Shilsen's Eberron SH (Finished - The Last Word : 9/20/15)
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