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Steel Dragon's "Tales of Orea"
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<blockquote data-quote="steeldragons" data-source="post: 6161370" data-attributes="member: 92511"><p>“Where’s the treasure? Ask him where the vault is!” Duor insisted, as all of the companions were now crowding around Alaria seated in the throne in telepathic conference with Gorathgraard’s long lost and cursed lord.</p><p></p><p><em>*My lord, we must defeat Desaarthal. How is that possible? What other powers does she possess within this fortress?</em>* Alaria asked, ignoring the dwarf’s crass short-sighted cares.</p><p></p><p>*<em>She is a Child of Zho...born when the world, as you know it, was young. Her might is great. Her magics all but lost to those not of her kind. Still, she can be defeated by force of might and magic...as any of them can be. It is simply a matter of if you have enough. I certainly could not say if you do.*</em> the low voice of Gorathiel echoed through Alaria’s mind.</p><p></p><p>*<em>You said the Fehs Repahl is held by a power equal to her own? Where is it, exactly? Does another dragon hold it?</em>* Alaria said with concern. She had an inkling, from Stenthil’s research, that the Fire Staff of Nator held the Fire Repahlentim. But where, exactly, that was...the Fire Staff had been lost from R’Hath’s record for centuries.</p><p></p><p>*<em>Indeed.</em>* Gorathiel replied, apparently reading Alaria’s musings as easily as her directed surface thoughts. *<em>The Witch-Queen of Dunsmoor holds the staff which holds the Fehs. She is no Child of Zho...nor any descendant thereof...</em>*</p><p></p><p>Alaria rose an eyebrow at the fact that these two things were worthy of differentiation. A dragon was a dragon, as far as she had ever known.</p><p></p><p>*<em>She is of your own kind. But her sorcery is potent, even without the staff...and she holds many more powers, whether of material items, spells, innate ability...as well as legions of minions who worship her as a goddess...She is much akin to how we once were...which makes her as capable and formidable an opponent as the Dark One.</em>*</p><p></p><p>Note to self, Alaria thought. Don’t go messing with the Witch-Queen of Dunsmoor...or?... Maybe...?</p><p></p><p><em>*She will not be pleased that Rach’sha is dead. He is one of her last progeny to remain here. It would be best for you to leave before her return. Take the Ihs out of her reach, lest she reclaim it in a single day.</em>*</p><p></p><p>*<em>Our thanks, Lord Gorthiel. I know your daughters remember you fondly and if there were some way for us to undo the curse that keeps you in such a state, I would surely know it and do what we could to end your suffering and servitude.</em>*</p><p></p><p>*<em>I see in your heart, you speak the truth...and I thank you. Alas, this weave is far beyond your capacity to untangle. Dragon magic of the Dawning Age. All I can hope for is the Dark One’s defeat and the final fall of my house. Only then shall I be freed of my suffering.</em>*</p><p></p><p>“What’d he say!?” Duor was growing increasingly impatient...and annoying.</p><p></p><p>*<em>My lord, if I may...impose one more question...Where might...</em>*Alaria began to ask.</p><p></p><p>*<em>As a boon...and hurtful insult to her...you will find what you seek two floors below...behind the old casks of wine is a gate hidden in the wall. There will be magical and mundane traps to bypass upon the portal. There are also summoned guardians, unhappily bound to its protection. But you will find the she-devil’s riches there. Take what you will. They are of no further use or value to me and mine.</em>*</p><p></p><p>*<em>Our most humble thanks, my lord. We will bring your suffering...and the Dark One to an end.*</em> Alaria thought and, as gently as she could, severred the telepathic exchange and stood up from the throne.</p><p></p><p>“Well?!” Duor said. His eyes were nearly mad with anticipation. He wrung his hands together and practically hopped up and down.</p><p></p><p>“Two levels down. There will be a wine cellar and a hidden gate.” Alaria replied calmly.</p><p></p><p>“LET’S GO!” Duor roared and began to take off before stopping three strides later, realizing he had no idea which direction to go.</p><p></p><p>“There will be traps and guardians...and magic to be overcome. Plus, it is likely Desaaarthal will be returning shortly. I am not certain, Duor, if we possess the needed strength to undertake the descent.” Alaria admitted, unhappy in the public admission of her own limited power.</p><p></p><p>“Well, yeh’ve got yer 'Unmakin’ whozzits, right? N’ Fen’s got his! Plus the orb? We’ll be fine!” Duor said dismissively. </p><p></p><p>“Do you think you can, Alaria?” Braddok said in full concern. “We can gather what we can and return here or use the orb to escape?”</p><p></p><p>Alaria nodded. She cared not a white for the dwarf’s desires, but she knew how much this meant to the warrior.</p><p></p><p>“Fen? Haelan?” Alaria looked to the other casters.</p><p></p><p>The half-elf and daelvar nodded, their faces grim with determination.</p><p></p><p>“Let’s get to it then.” Alaria said. She moved to the doorway to the side of the throne dais. Another small antechamber housed some tables with platters and other serving ware. Duor and Jovias grabbed a few of the ancient silver wares and stuffed them into Haelan’s holding pack (which, thankfully, the disinterested dragon had left) and their own pouches and packs. </p><p></p><p>“Are we going for the vault or do you two want to raid the crockery as well?” Haelan said in some annoyance. He was overjoyed at their apparent success against the behir and prayed silently to Faerantha to tell Erevan and Festus’ spirits that they’d been avenged.</p><p></p><p>But the young Hilltender understood, all too clearly, that they were far from out of danger...and that by his own weakness of spirit had fallen to the dragon’s charms and gotten her one trophy even as they’d stolen another away from her. The daelvar’s face held a stern scowl that the other companions had not before seen.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="steeldragons, post: 6161370, member: 92511"] “Where’s the treasure? Ask him where the vault is!” Duor insisted, as all of the companions were now crowding around Alaria seated in the throne in telepathic conference with Gorathgraard’s long lost and cursed lord. [I]*My lord, we must defeat Desaarthal. How is that possible? What other powers does she possess within this fortress?[/I]* Alaria asked, ignoring the dwarf’s crass short-sighted cares. *[I]She is a Child of Zho...born when the world, as you know it, was young. Her might is great. Her magics all but lost to those not of her kind. Still, she can be defeated by force of might and magic...as any of them can be. It is simply a matter of if you have enough. I certainly could not say if you do.*[/I] the low voice of Gorathiel echoed through Alaria’s mind. *[I]You said the Fehs Repahl is held by a power equal to her own? Where is it, exactly? Does another dragon hold it?[/I]* Alaria said with concern. She had an inkling, from Stenthil’s research, that the Fire Staff of Nator held the Fire Repahlentim. But where, exactly, that was...the Fire Staff had been lost from R’Hath’s record for centuries. *[I]Indeed.[/I]* Gorathiel replied, apparently reading Alaria’s musings as easily as her directed surface thoughts. *[I]The Witch-Queen of Dunsmoor holds the staff which holds the Fehs. She is no Child of Zho...nor any descendant thereof...[/I]* Alaria rose an eyebrow at the fact that these two things were worthy of differentiation. A dragon was a dragon, as far as she had ever known. *[I]She is of your own kind. But her sorcery is potent, even without the staff...and she holds many more powers, whether of material items, spells, innate ability...as well as legions of minions who worship her as a goddess...She is much akin to how we once were...which makes her as capable and formidable an opponent as the Dark One.[/I]* Note to self, Alaria thought. Don’t go messing with the Witch-Queen of Dunsmoor...or?... Maybe...? [I]*She will not be pleased that Rach’sha is dead. He is one of her last progeny to remain here. It would be best for you to leave before her return. Take the Ihs out of her reach, lest she reclaim it in a single day.[/I]* *[I]Our thanks, Lord Gorthiel. I know your daughters remember you fondly and if there were some way for us to undo the curse that keeps you in such a state, I would surely know it and do what we could to end your suffering and servitude.[/I]* *[I]I see in your heart, you speak the truth...and I thank you. Alas, this weave is far beyond your capacity to untangle. Dragon magic of the Dawning Age. All I can hope for is the Dark One’s defeat and the final fall of my house. Only then shall I be freed of my suffering.[/I]* “What’d he say!?” Duor was growing increasingly impatient...and annoying. *[I]My lord, if I may...impose one more question...Where might...[/I]*Alaria began to ask. *[I]As a boon...and hurtful insult to her...you will find what you seek two floors below...behind the old casks of wine is a gate hidden in the wall. There will be magical and mundane traps to bypass upon the portal. There are also summoned guardians, unhappily bound to its protection. But you will find the she-devil’s riches there. Take what you will. They are of no further use or value to me and mine.[/I]* *[I]Our most humble thanks, my lord. We will bring your suffering...and the Dark One to an end.*[/I] Alaria thought and, as gently as she could, severred the telepathic exchange and stood up from the throne. “Well?!” Duor said. His eyes were nearly mad with anticipation. He wrung his hands together and practically hopped up and down. “Two levels down. There will be a wine cellar and a hidden gate.” Alaria replied calmly. “LET’S GO!” Duor roared and began to take off before stopping three strides later, realizing he had no idea which direction to go. “There will be traps and guardians...and magic to be overcome. Plus, it is likely Desaaarthal will be returning shortly. I am not certain, Duor, if we possess the needed strength to undertake the descent.” Alaria admitted, unhappy in the public admission of her own limited power. “Well, yeh’ve got yer 'Unmakin’ whozzits, right? N’ Fen’s got his! Plus the orb? We’ll be fine!” Duor said dismissively. “Do you think you can, Alaria?” Braddok said in full concern. “We can gather what we can and return here or use the orb to escape?” Alaria nodded. She cared not a white for the dwarf’s desires, but she knew how much this meant to the warrior. “Fen? Haelan?” Alaria looked to the other casters. The half-elf and daelvar nodded, their faces grim with determination. “Let’s get to it then.” Alaria said. She moved to the doorway to the side of the throne dais. Another small antechamber housed some tables with platters and other serving ware. Duor and Jovias grabbed a few of the ancient silver wares and stuffed them into Haelan’s holding pack (which, thankfully, the disinterested dragon had left) and their own pouches and packs. “Are we going for the vault or do you two want to raid the crockery as well?” Haelan said in some annoyance. He was overjoyed at their apparent success against the behir and prayed silently to Faerantha to tell Erevan and Festus’ spirits that they’d been avenged. But the young Hilltender understood, all too clearly, that they were far from out of danger...and that by his own weakness of spirit had fallen to the dragon’s charms and gotten her one trophy even as they’d stolen another away from her. The daelvar’s face held a stern scowl that the other companions had not before seen. [/QUOTE]
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