Twisted Infinity

[Ashy]

Ata slowly, deliberately removes the deep cowl of his hood and squints his crystalline amethyst eyes at the sight before him. One of his thick, crystaline-encrusted eyebrows raises slowly and he looks to Glangim. "This bodes not well", Ata states simply, his thick accent making each word sound like the tolling of a funeral bell.

 

[Nac Mac Feegle]

Shifter gazes around impassively, eyes taking in all the sights, saying nothing.

OOC: Whew, it's going to be interesting trying to avoid gender pronouns.

 

[Wrahn]

Tares Hehrog~

Aerya laughs almost musically, “Of course, she has always been “mother” to me, but I imagine that would be awkward for you. Forgive me; her name is Lady Elusriel Selvanus. Elves rarely stand on formality, so I will not bore you with her titles.”

She nods seriously at your pledge of aid, “Thank you sir, it is a promise not lightly given for one of your abilities.”

You send your message out and there is no reply.

Aerya smiles apologetically, “Elves do not feel the need to hurry. She will be in contact sooner or later to give you an answer. I can only council patience."

The next day, after dinner, a servant delivers a message from Aerya, in an elegant hand it say, “Please come to my chambers at your earliest opportunity.”

When you arrive at her room, she opens the door for you, she bears the signs of recent weeping, but she seems to have composed herself, “Please come in.”

Leading you into the room, you see a dark haired woman with angular features. She is beautiful in an otherworldly sense, the color of her eyes are too deep, her movements seem more like gliding as she rises from her chair. She stands a little taller than Tares but has a much thinner frame. Her gown is elaborate and the deepest of blacks, her long hair falls, unbound, almost to her knees, hiding her ears, which you would guess would be pointed. Any man could see she was beautiful, but she would never be called pretty. She appears to be about the same age as Aerya.

Aerya speaks, “Permit me to introduce the Arch Sorcerer Tares Hehrog.” She says to her mother and turning to you, “Permit me to introduce my mother Lady Elusriel.”

Lady Elusriel nods politely, “Please, there is no need to stand on such formality. Please call me Elusriel. I am sorry to come so abruptly, but your message gave me an excuse to see my daughter.”

She returns to her seat, “Your message spoke of “Profound Matter” Master Hehrog. Could I ask you to explain that further?”

 

[Someone]

She nods seriously at your pledge of aid, “Thank you sir, it is a promise not lightly given for one of your abilities.”

“It´s a matter or relative importance; it´s great for me, though you may not see it. About my offer, I´m confident you understand that there are limits to it.”

“Your message spoke of “Profound Matter” Master Hehrog. Could I ask you to explain that further?”

Tares clears his throat. “I dare to affirm that I´ve reached the pinnacle of what human magic can offer. Though I suspect, I deeply know, that the ceiling I´ve met is only a momentary obstacle. There are not, and there can´t be limits. Following that conviction, I´ve dealt with wyrms, and this is my reward.”

Tares extends his Portable Hole and produces the stone from it.

“It was given to me by the great dragon Ishlan'tevelin. It comes from a place where magic, as I know it, works in a different way. I´m sure that´s the key for unlocking the secrets to continue my research, but the most discerning magic and the hardest work are unable to penetrate its mysteries. That´s why I need your help, Lady Elusriel.”

 

[Wrahn]

“It´s a matter or relative importance; it´s great for me, though you may not see it. About my offer, I´m confident you understand that there are limits to it.”

“I do understand that asking for help is not generally in your nature and I am honored you would come to me for assistance. I would not dream of taking advantage of your generous offer.” She smiles, “After all I am but a simple minstrel, what need would I have of slaying dragons or throwing down empires.”

“It was given to me by the great dragon Ishlan'tevelin. It comes from a place where magic, as I know it, works in a different way. I’m sure that’s the key for unlocking the secrets to continue my research, but the most discerning magic and the hardest work are unable to penetrate its mysteries. That´s why I need your help, Lady Elusriel.”

She extends her hand for you to give her the stone. She makes a quick incantation and concentrates on the stone for a moment.

[OOC: She is casting detect magic]

After a moment she hands it back to you and leans back in her chair, “Such things are not my area of expertise, but if I were to venture a guess, you retrieved this from one of the Xevaisia Ruins. It is quite rare to find them intact today, but they hold great mysteries.”

She looks off in the distance, “I used to chide my husband about being impatient, in the end though, I think elven patience has little place in the human world.”

She looks back at Tares, “I am not sure that I can help you, but I am willing to try. The magic which forged the stone is beyond me, beyond any wizard living in Evoreal. However, my Master’s Master’s Master was something of a wanderer. In the days when your people slept in caves, he walked the world. Among the things he cataloged were the Xevaisia ruins. He was said to have a great understanding of magic, his insights may prove of use to you.”

“In the morning, I intend to return to Saedhrin Tower, you are welcome to accompany me.” She looks to Aerya, “Perhaps my daughter will accompany us, to help in the translation?”

Aerya looks sorrowful, “I have responsibilities here, I am sorry.”

Elusriel turns back to you, “Then please meet me here at sunrise, I will bring us past the defenses of the First Oak.”

 

[Someone]

Tares looks briefly at Aerya. There´s something else happening here, but such things are not of his concern. He nods at Elusriel "Until the first ray of sun, then" says as a goodbye.

He returns to the tower and waits impatiently. At the appointed hour, he renews his spells, but as he´s about to go, the slight touch of paranoia -lefover of his years as adventurer- makes him cast Shapechange, too, though he keeps his normal form.

 

[Ferrix]

Not again. Unpaused by his companions, Glangim barrels past the guards of the Deepgate yelling "ya be in my way!" He clangs through the streets, his armor shifting, it's cogs rolling almost invisibly, to the temple of Moradin. His breath like bellows, he bursts in through the doors, nearly tearing them from the walls, "who?" is all he can get out in a shout that echoes hammers. Scanning the temple vigorously for anyone to answer him, he feels a weight that he cannot shake.

 

[Ashy]

Ata's head shifts from where Glangim was standing (before bursting into movement) to where Shifter is currently. Not an ounce of motion or movement is wasted in this precise shift. An impassive, stony face looks into the eyes of the Shifter.

"Impatient."

Then, the ugruu begins a slow, steady, and measured pace; filling in the gaps left by the wake of his "other-self".

 

[Nac Mac Feegle]

Shifter meeets the Ugruu's stare briefly, then nods almost inperceptibly, and matches the dwarf step for step with a fluid gate.

 

[Wrahn]

Dimitri~

Sitting in quiet contemplation in the late afternoon, preparing silently for the evening prayer, Dimitri’s contemplation is disturbed as the doors to the abbey are opened. Visitors to the Abbey had been rare until he had been made the Abbot. It had been an honor, but now it seemed that if the local villagers had the simplest of problems they came to him for a resolution.

It wasn’t that he really minded, settling disputes between two farmers was far easier than slaying demons on the Western Frontier, but he worried that they had become to dependent on him. His exploits had earned him the reputation as being a wise and powerful man, not in little part to Sorin Silvertongue, a bard who had traveled with him for a time. When Sorin had decided to hang up his rapier he had written several songs telling the stories of their exploits. He tended to embellish more than slightly, but despite protest to the contrary Dimitri’s reputation had grown past even his mighty skills.

Dimitri had looked forward to a quiet retirement in his Abbey, but it seemed that the villagers now needed “Dimitri the Wise” to settle every dispute between them. As if on que there came a knock at his door.

Entering into the room was Brother Taliln, leading a boy, the son of the local Ostler, Taemin the Younger if Dimitri recalled correctly. Before Brother Taliln could explain what was happening young Taemin lurched forward grabbing Dimitri’s hand looking up at him with a tear stained face.

“Please you gotta help Reynni, sir. The Ghouls got him! You gotta come now, please.”



Ata, Glangim, Shifter~

The dwarves in the temple do their best to pretend they haven’t notice Glangim’s intrusion on the temple. Before Glangim can explode once more at them, a voice from the behind one of the massive pillars supporting the cavernous roof speaks.

“Lad, this is a holy place. If you are gunna be a shoutin’ in here, it better be in the praises of Moradin.” Morda, one of the high priestess of the Soul Forger steps out from behind a pillar. Her hair had long ago gone grey, her face lined with years of service to the temple, but her eyes were still sharp as was her tongue. “I have your answers for ye, as much as I hate to be the one deliverin’ them. Come, let’s talk outside of the earshot of Moradin.” She says indicating the titanic statue at the end of the hall. “He doesn’t need to hear our belly-achin’”

Ata and Shifter arrive at the Temple of Moradin as Modra is leading Glangim back to the temple offices. She catches their eyes and after a disapproving scowl she signals them to come with them. In the offices she sits behind the desk.

“Two days past Derrick Stonesplitter spent his last breath. He now serves Moradin in the Dwarfhome.” It was odd to hear Derrick’s clan name. Priests of Moradin traditionally surrendered their clan when they joined the priesthood. This was to more faithfully serve Moradin without prejudice. But once his service in the world had passed, his clan once again claimed him.

“I am sorry Lad, I know he was close to your heart.” Modra speaks sympathetically. “I knew you were close to his. The night before he died, he gave me this for ye.” She reaches in and produces a sealed letter.

The letter reads:

I am sorry I could not wait for you, Moradin was calling me home. I am sorry I shall not be there to see you sit on the throne, but apparently that was not for me to see. I always hated goodbyes, to I will just say that you have had found place for you in my heart. I would ask one more thing of you: That you join my clan in carrying my body down to rest with the bones of the earth and you carry you hammer with you.

(The bones of the earth is the deep tomb where important dwarves are laid to rest. It is not uncommon for someone to ask a close friend to help their clan to help carry their body, it is generally considered an honor, but only a king is permitted to go armed. If you follow his request you would be declaring yourself king.)

Tares Hehrog~

The morning brings a light drizzle which makes the brief journey to Aerya’s chambers damp and uncomfortable. Arriving there a few minutes before sunrise, Aerya conspiratorially rolls her eyes looking at her mother whom seems anxious.

“Hurry, there is little time.” She extends her hand for Tares to take.

She intones a spell of Greater Teleport and you find yourself translocated to the north. Tares places his hand on the delicate railing on the balcony on which he now stands to steady himself. Usually teleportation does not disorient him so much, it probably has something to do with the protection of the First Oak.

“Behold the glory of Evoreal!” Elusriel says, she seems girlish in her enthusiasm, a stark contrast to what he had seen the previous night. Tares turn to look at what she is talking about.

The balcony faces east and already the sky is filled with the orange, reds and pinks of the coming dawn. He can make out the dark canopy of trees beneath them, spreading to the horizons. The night noises quiet, anticipating the arrival of dawn. The entire forest seems to hold it’s breath as the sun makes it’s appearance.

“Mohdr ne Sualtha” Elusriel says in quietly. The moment is spectacularly beautiful, as the sun kisses the forest with light and warmth. The moment passes as the day has begun and Tares releases the breath he hadn’t even realize he had been holding.

“That is the way everyone should first see Evoreal.” She says smiling.

Taking stock of Tares’s surroundings, he is standing on a high balcony that seems to be on a incredible large tree, towering several times higher than it’s nearest competitor. Presumably the tree is one of the great Elven Oaks, which according to legend, had been brought from the “Far West” which was the elven version of heaven.

Elusriel reaches down and takes off her slippers. She reaches up and touches the tree, with a strange smile on her face, “Saehdrin welcomes you ArchSorcerer. He wishes you success in your venture here. Come, I am sure you are anxious to get started.”

The bark of the tree parts revealing a living passage into the tree. The dark wood is smooth and seems to be varnished. It descends quickly into the tree. There are numerous passage that intersect the passage and it would be quite easy to get lost here. Your darkvision comes in usefully, for while the place is dimly lit from some unknown source, it is hard to see beyond a few feet with normal sight.

Finally they arrive at a room with a large table, which is well lit through several windows. Books line the shelves innumerable shelves.

“I will send Cerren to you, he can help you find what you need. I have a few matters I must attend to, but I would be honored if you would join me for dinner.”