Twisted Infinity

[Wrahn]

Tares Hehrog~

Early morning brought out the castle staff at the Grand Palace of King Therdes, though in truth it was neither grand nor a palace. It had once been the military stronghold of the Camecian Kingdom, when Camecia was nothing more than a wild province of the once great Uldan Empire. Uldan had crumbled under it's own weight, leaving a power vacuum which Therdes ancestors were quick to try and fill. Over the years it had been added to, Teriphan, Therdes' father had even attempted to make the place livable, declaring the place his Grand Palace. Terriphan had been too much of a pragmatist to pay for the rebuilding necessary to convert it. So it remained a gilded fortress, albeit with a new name.

Watching from his perch at the top of the tower, he could see the castle staff scurry about their individual tasks like so many ants. Individually their tasks were unimportant, collectively, their tasks made the "Grand Palace" function.

Tares shook his head to clear it, such idle musing did not suit him well. He had been up all night working on a new way to analyze the stone he had recovered from the ruins at Elsenveihn. The analysis had worked, but hadn't told him anything he had not already known.

Elsenveihn was a site of great power that pre dated human civilization. It resided in the far north, where nothing grew. A vast wasteland of ice, nothing but snow moved on it's surface, but beneath the ice, terrible creatures lived. Underneath the great glaciers resting on the ground which may have never felt the sun or warmth was the ruins of a great city, a city named Elsenveihn.

It was now the home of a degenerate race of white skinned humanoids who called themselves the Kaulth, which, unoriginally meant The People in their language. They worshipped something that had lived there far longer than they. The Great Ice Wyrm Ishlan'tevalin.

Elsenveihn had come to his attention in his studies, among the journals of an old adventurers journal. His descriptions of the location was a clear indication of great magic.

Tares Hehrog rose to power through hard work, ferreting out secrets and learning from them, but for the past several years he had not made any head way. He knew there was more, deeper mysteries of magic, but was unable to find the key to unlocking them. If what he suspected was true, Elsenveihn could have the secrets he was looking for.

He had used his magic to circumvent the usual trouble of traveling to such a remote location and with relatively little flattery and bribery he was able to secure the assistance of Ishlan'tevelin. The Dragon had confided in him that Elsenveihn was ancient when she had come here in her youth, long before the Kaulth had come. She didn't seem concerned over the origin of the place, though she did note several places where magic worked differently in the ruins. As a parting gift she gave Tares a small stone, from one of the places where magic did not work correctly. She told him that she believed that their were other such places and the elves might know more.

For the past three months he had been experimenting with the stone. While it was very clear the stone had been effected my magics beyond his ken. He had been at a complete loss to understanding how the basic metaphysical properties had been altered. Here before him he had his proof that there were greater magic than what he knew. But he was unable to grasp it, to make even the slightest inroads on how it he might unlock it‘s secrets.

His peers, if you could call them that, would be of no use. Even those he could vaguely stomach did not have his understanding of magic. Finally this morning, he had exhausted the last test he could think of. The elves may be the last resort.

Elves kept to themselves mostly, some occasionally wandered out to see the rest of the world, but mostly the existed quietly in the Evoreal Forest and did not interfere with the affairs of Man. The Uldan Empire had tried to annex the forest in their height of arrogance, but when they tried to enforce that edict, they found their legions destroyed and the magics repulsed. The elves sanctum was inviolate as long as the First Oak stood.

One did not simply walk into the home of the elves. At best you found yourself disoriented and walking back out the way you came, at worst you didn’t come out at all. The elves were not complete recluses, however and it was not unheard of to be invited into their presence if one had need. The question was, how can he get word to the elves of his need.

 

[Someone]

OOC: Note that Tares will cast every day Mind Blank and Darkvision.

Seated in his expensive chair, Tares has the impulse to sweep the pile of books out of the table, or turn them into something more useful, like a bundle of teddy bears. After all, he can recite every word. He has milked every ounce of arcane wisdom, extracted every bit of magical knowledge of them. He can level cities, turn into -almost- anything, bring some of the most powerful beings in the multiverse and force them to do his bidding, spy and talk to anyone, no matter where he is, and travel so fast and easily that "distance" is starting to lose it´s meaning. Surely, those pompous and senile ´master wizards´ could think it´s enough.

But not Tares. The day that thought shows in his mind, he´ll point to his temple with the index finger and cast disintegrate.

The archmage stops walking around the room. Those dark clouds are things of the past. He returns to the stone: it promises new magic, a new form of magic. But he has no clue about how to start. None of his methods work. But still...

He´s loathe to ask the elves for help. This won´t be the first time a bunch or arrogant ´we are cool and you are not´ nerds reject him. Tares consider the alternatives, and discards them one by one; after all, trying to enter with permision seems to be the wisest thing to do; after all, it worked with the dragon. And Sending seems to be the right tool to the task.

OOC: Tares will put all his resources to the task of contacting one of the elf rulers. First, if he knows one of them enough to issue a Sending to him, he´ll do. If not, and he knows an elf he´ll use Greater Scrying on him, travel to his position using the Mirror, and ask him about the elven realm and who rules it.

In the case he doesn´t know any elf, then he´ll have to look for one. Using the Mirror, travel to the main cities and cast Greater Prying Eyes, with orders to "find an elf and report". Repeat until I meet one.

 

[Wrahn]

Bishop Kross~

The narrow streets were decorated by the occasional vagrant and the contents of a chamber pot which the residence in this part of the city had a tendency to throw out their doors.

Say what you want about the Aserians, sure they were heartless bastards who didn't mind the occasional human sacrifice, but at least they could keep the streets clean of refuse, both the human and otherwise.

They had conquered the Parrian Confederation a few years ago. With a huge army of fanatical follower, they crushed what little resistance the Confederation could muster and quickly lay siege to the various member city states. Parria, the largest most prosperous of the states was burnt to the ground, it's people put to the sword. Most of the other cities surrendered to avoid the same fate. Sharo was a member of the Confederation that had been controlled by a council, which had all been put to death when they had surrendered to the Aserians.

Truthfully though, that had not overly concerned the Black Cloaks, the criminal organization which operated in Sharo and a few other cities in the Confederation. One government trying to stop their business was much the same as any other government. Or so they had thought.

Once the Aserians defeated a country with their military, then came what they called the divine order of Keopt, the most polite thing the non-Aserians called them was the Thought Police, at least out of their earshot. The Thought Police would randomly grab people and put them under the question. Using their psionic power to rip through their minds looking for thoughts of disloyalty. Those that passed were released, those that didn't were tortured to death so that pain could "purify" their souls.

Which is what caused the unlike role the Black Cloaks were cast in. In the Black Cloaks business, loyalty to the current regime was not something that was considered a benefit. The Thought Police, rapidly exposed the Black Cloaks from information ripped from the minds of one of a hapless Cloak that had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Aserians captured most of the Guild and was preparing to "purify" them, when a small handful of men, the remainder of the Black Cloaks, broke into the prison and freed their fellows.

The Black Cloaks realized that they could never operate in a city under such control, began assassinating the Seer-Priests who ran the Divine Order of Keopt. Soon news of their deeds spread. The Black Cloaks, at least in the stories, had become the noble rogues attempting to free their city from the cruel clutches of the Aserians. They had become the symbol of the resistance. People flocked to their “banner”, though in truth the Cloaks really didn’t care one way or another, they were just trying to run a business. They added the Resistance in small ways, both because the Aserians would be more likely to focus their efforts on the Resistance and that the Aserians were bad for business. Besides they were making a fortune smuggling weapons and men.

Sharo was on he verge of armed revolt when word came that the Aserian armies had been routed by the forces of the Empire of the Golden Sun. Realizing this was the time to strike, the Resistance rose up and overcame their oppressors. The Black Cloaks had helped and even managed to loot some of the wealthier homes that the Aserian leadership had taken for their own. The Black Cloaks had annoyingly become heroes, legendary figures, champions of the oppressed, liberators of Sharo.

That was two years ago. Business had slowly returned to normal, Sharo was now the Free City of Sharo. The Empire of the Golden Sun had conquered a few of the cities that were once part of the Parrian Confederation. The Aserians held a few more, but Sharo was free and neither the Empire or the Aserians seemed to be willing to commit the forces necessary to take her.

The new council, ironically, had two "former" Black Cloaks on it, which included Kaven Dusk, the leader of the Black Cloaks, to whom Bishop Kross had been summoned.

Kaven was a pragmatic man who ran the Cloaks with an iron fist. Not exactly without a conscience, he certainly wasn’t the Noble Rogue that he currently painted himself as. Bishop had known him for years, some might have called them friends, but their relationship was more of a mutually beneficial association.

Bishop was a little concerned over the way Kaven had been running things the past few years. He had originally taken the position for an advantage, but he had become more and more involved with the operation of the city and less and less involved with the Black Cloaks. Truthfully Bishop thought that Kaven had bought into his own press.

This morning, when he had received a message to meet Kaven at his office seemed to be a great departure, as he strictly kept Cloak business separate from his council business. It didn’t seem to bode well for things to come.

 

[Wrahn]

Tares Hehrog~

A few years ago, a young woman had come to the "Grand Palace" and offered her service to King Therdes as a minstrel. Her name was Aerya Selvanus, she was born of an elf and a man. And her haunting ethereal music had easily won the King's favor.

Tares had not concerned himself overly much with her. She certainly could play music that could move even him, but she was aloof and distant. He had always gotten the impression of deep sorrow coming from her. However, she may have connections back in the forest.

She usually keeps to her rooms in the palace, it should not be overly difficult to find her.

 

[Someone]

Tares, sorcerer/archmage

She usually keeps to her rooms in the palace, it should not be overly difficult to find her.

When he remembers the singer, Tares strokes his beard a few times. It´s a start, though a full elf would have been better. He feather falls down the tower and looks for a servant to announce her his visit "for her advice on matters of great magical importance". Tares waits just outside her room.

 

[Wrahn]

Tares Hehrog~

The servant which you had sent, opens the door to her room, he averts his eyes from Tares, keeping them lowered lest he offends him.

There are doubtlessly terrible rumors that circulate the servants about the Arch Sorcerer. They always seemed to give Tares a wide berth and when he did address them they all seemed to jump like the were expecting him to summon a demon to gobble them up.

“She will see you milord.” The servant said, getting out of his way as quickly as he could. At least they were polite.

The sitting room Tares enter is decorated lightly, but tastefully. Such accommodations would generally not be afforded a simple minstrel, but Aerya had the King’s favor and was by accounts a master of her craft.

Aerya herself was standing, looking out the rooms only small window. The times Tares had seen her, when he felt it necessary to go to a court function, she had always be in austere gowns, with her blond hair held back. Her beauty had been undeniable then, even as she tried to de-emphasize it. Here, with her hair down, in a simple dress, with the morning sun streaming on to her, she was breath taking.

She pauses a moment as Tares enters. Delicately she curtseys, “Lord Arch Sorcerer. I apologize for not being ready to receive guests. Your request caught me a little off guard, I am afraid.” Her voice carries a slight airy accent.

“May I offer you some tea?” She offers as she moves across the room to a small tea set.

 

[Someone]

Tares briefly remembers his years working in the familiar business, and studying magic at night. There was little time for girls then; with the desire of solving the stone´s mystery burning in his mind, he feels the same way. But, when was the last time? perhaps when he ate? Asks himself looking at the ring in his left hand. Nevermind.

“No need to apologize; it´s been a long time since my reputation made me… trascend social mores. Call me Tares if you like, if you like. About the tea, no thanks: my taste for it went the same way of my politeness long ago. And that would extend this visit beyond the strictly needed: time is precious for me.”

“I´ll go to the point, if you don´t mind. I have the pressing need to discuss some matters of magic with the elves of the Evoreal forest. I have means of contacting them through magical means, but those could be interpreted as unpolite at nest, and hostile at worst: a bad way to start a conversation. Thus, before using these means I pretend to try the old fashioned way, as I did with you, who by the way, I presume are the closest person that could inform me of the customs of your… ancestors. Am I wrong?”

 

[Wrahn]

Tares Hehrog~

Aerya considers your words, “Please, sit.”

She will sit gracefully in the chair across from you, there is a long pause, but finally she speaks, “You must understand, the elven tradition of magic is different from… ours. The elves don’t have great academies, but generally teach directly from teacher to student. A student usually inherits the knowledge of their teacher when it is time for the teacher to pass. So their tends to be a great storehouse of magical knowledge going back several elven generations, but it is in no way centralized. Each “tower” has the studies of the previous generations.”

“So it is in no way centralized. It is also not hoarded. Most of the elven arcanists make welcome anyone who wishes to study at their libraries, they view it as part of their duties. None the less they may deny you, as you are not an elf.”

“As fortune would have it, my mother holds the Saehdrin Tower. She may be sympathetic to your request, if you mention me. Though she, more than any of the other tower holders, may be inclined to dany you.”

She reaches to her neck and takes off a beautiful locket, “This is her Missive Token, I will allow you to use it, if your need is urgent.”

“She will probably not agree right away, the elves have a tendency to consider their options carefully."

(OOC: Tares knows Missive Token is an arcane spell that is cast on a object allowing the possessor of the object send a message (as sending) to the caster. The spell persists until it is used and does not have a significant material component to it.)

 

[Someone]

Tares laughs when Aerya mentions “traditions” and his eyes spark. “That won´t be a problem. I´m my own reputed master, and my tradition, like they say, it´s eternal, without start or end.”

Then Aerya gives him the locket, and the archmage closes his fist around it. “I´m very grateful for this gift; I sense it´s of great importance to you. If any day I can do something to you in return, you have only to look for me.”

“By the way, it would help to know your mother´s name. That certainly help when trying to start a conversation”

Saying that, he bows slightly before the minstrel and comes out of the room. Knowing that a Sending allows for a limited number of words, so while returning to his tower, he carefully thinks on the message. He writes several in a piece of parchment and chooses the most convincing of them:

“GREETINGS; MY NAME´S TARES HEHROG. I COME TO YOU WITH YOUR DAUGHTER´S AERYA HELP TO SEEK YOUR KNOWLEDGE IN PROFOUND MATTERS OF MAGIC.”

 

[Wrahn]

Glangim, Ata, and Shifter~

Ata, Glangim, and the Shifter could smell the change in the air. They had spent three weeks on an extended patrol with a detachment of the best scouts Dun Faerin had to offer. There had been reports of strange movements from the Flayer’s outpost and considering the previous association the dwarves of the Dun had had with them, it was deemed high priority to keep a foot of their activities.

When they had arrived at the stinking Flayer hole, they found it abandon. At that point, most of the scouts were sent back to carry word, the three companions had followed the retreating Illithid. Traveling deep into the bowels of the earth, they traveled through territory no sane being would dare cross.

The Illithid, paranoid as always, collapsed tunnels behind them, making following them difficult. On the twelfth day they caught a break. A few strange sounds behind them was a clear indication that they were being followed. They had set a trap and captured a goblin scout, a scout for the Drow.

With a little convincing, the goblin told them all they needed to figure out what was going on. The Flayers had over extended themselves with the attack on Dun Faerin. The Drow could smell weakness a mile away and they had launched an all out attack to bring the Flayers to their knees. The Flayers were bringing in their outposts to defend themselves.

While the hated enemies of the dwarves cut away at themselves, they could not cut at Dun Faerin. As the patrol started to return, the realization that the way to Aengkin was now virtually clear began to sink in. They knew that Balin Steelbiter, the lord of Dun Faerin was willing to give them supplies and people to reestablish the deep home of the dwarves, he was just waiting for both the opportunity, which had now presented itself and for Glangim to declare himself.

These thoughts wore heavy on Glangim's mind as he felt the air pressure change as the Deepgate was opened. Seeing the city again was a comfort, though as they stepped in and saw the city banners draped in black. The city was in mourning, someone had died, someone important.