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The Durance Vile - Epilogue
The Durance Vile - Epilogue
OOC Notes:
Exp is 2000.
Loot:
30k per person brings us up to date – books are closed
This Week’s Adventure:
Lord Gelban continued his telepathic exchange with the titan. As he did, the wind started picking up, but there were no clouds with it. It had the smell of an unusual wind, but I couldn’t say why. As I scanned the skies, it was apparent that the Shining Isles was a much bigger demi-plane than the Durance Vile was. There seemed to be no end to the ocean and islands scattered about. While the Durance Vile was a small fortress, this seemed to be an expansive place for a more collaborative purpose. And so far, nothing had tried to kill us, which was of course a plus.
Lord Gelban stopped suddenly and rose to his full height and muttered “Very well. So you won’t relinquish it willingly. At least now I’m sure who it is.” We said a few quiet words to each other, but dragon ears miss little. Lord Gelban said “I can hear you, you know, and yes I do intend to … discuss the matter. Son are you coming?” My eyebrows raised as the titan said “Yes, father,” and then slammed his fist into the ground and with a small spray of blood, dragon wings erupted from his back.
Before taking to the air, Lord Gelban turned to us. “There will be some difficulty ahead. If you wish to remain here, I understand. I do not wish to put you in an unpleasant situation.” The reactions varied from Hammer saying “Agh, I’m not gonna miss this!” to some of us remarking that the Durance Vile was unpleasant, and how unlikely it was that this would be more so. There was a massive rush of air as Lord Gelban launched into the sky with a single beat of his wings, and we all fell in behind him, most of us riding Hammer and Tongs. As we rose in the sky, the Titan introduced himself as Dormantd. I was about to introduce myself but then realized that he probably already knew who we were and he smiled and said he did, and we all did our best to keep pace with the massive gold dragon in front of us.
As we passed over one island, a pair of silver dragons shot out from the trees below, as though they had been waiting. They rose quickly and each breathed a blast of cold at Lord Gelban, who banked and avoided both. Lord Gelban for the most part ignored them, and the silvers then fell into formation behind him. Dormandt was close enough to be heard, and easily read the confused looks on our faces. He called out “It is the Gauntlet. The challenge for the right of the Gilden. If he cannot stand up to the forces, then he is not fit to lead us. I would have hoped he would have rested and prepared, but so be it.” I asked him pointedly what the protocols of the ritual were and he had no difficulty understanding my meaning. He replied “Father would be quite cross with you if you interfered directly.”
His answer spoke volumes.
Lord Gelban then suddenly dove into the open sea, launching a massive spray into the air. After a moment he came back into the sky, followed by two smaller gold dragons who also fell in behind him. As the ancient gold rose, Hammer banked near him and got Dravot close enough to cast a quick endurance enhancement on him. If was not interfering directly after all. I tried to convince Tongs to do the same so I could cast a Cat’s Grace but I couldn’t convince her to do it. She seemed hesitant about the entire matter and did not want to risk overstepping any bound. As one of the only two copper dragons in sight, I can see why she might feel this way. Personally, I wasn’t above interfering directly if it seemed warranted – “quite cross” wasn’t much of a discouragement.
Two more silvers were waiting in the air, and Lord Gelban avoided most of their breath weapons as well, and they too joined the formation. From above, two solars came into view, each taking a single swing with their blades as Lord Gelban passed. (Dravot was sure one of them missed on purpose.)
We went through some ten minutes of this, passing over island and sea, with some twenty dragons in formation as well as a few solars and some other beings. Lord Gelban was lightly wounded but fairly well intact for whatever lay ahead. On an island ahead were a series of joined columns, forty feet high with arches connecting them outlining a large oval shape. Waiting calmly in the center was a gold dragon – large but not so large as the one we followed. There were dragons arrayed all around the area somewhat haphazardly, or so it seemed until the following dragons landed, each in their designated area. It just underscored how the Shining Isles, while beautiful, was a bit too orderly and forced for my tastes.
Lord Gelban went into a dive and rose back up over the arena in a tight arc. Then he dropped like a rock til he was mere feet from the ground and with a single wingbeat landed on the island with a crack of stone and cloud of dust. Tongs seemed uncertain where to land but her brother had no worry for propriety and he went straight for an open space at the edge of the arena behind Lord Gelban. Tongs sighed and follwed him in.
Gelban reared up slightly after landing and his voice boomed out with a patronizing tone “Paravandr… I thank you for watching over the Gold’s direction in my absence. Your services are no longer needed in that capacity.”
The air was still, and it seemed as if there was no reply. But dragons are subtle, and my ears picked up a small snort from the other gold. He was quiet for a moment more then he tilted his head in reply. “Gelban, I am glad to see you unharmed. We had hoped to negotiate for your release but I see your… mammals have freed you.”
“No thanks to you,” I said under my breath, knowing full well the dragon could easily hear me. Paravandr did hear, and inhaled slightly but he continued unfazed “However the Golds have spoken in your absence. They have decided that my way is the better course. Your continual… dalliances with the less civic minded creatures of the Flaness have caused the Golds and Silvers trouble. We have tried our best to guide them over time, but I think we’ve wasted too many resources trying to guide these more chaotically minded beings. We can serve the greater good in other ways.”
“By sitting on your arses and doing nothing,” was Valanthe’s whispered reply, and I had to stifle my laugh. Again, Paravandr did his best to ignore it and go on.
“Your guilt and fondness over these creatures, while laudable, has clouded your judgement with regards to them. The whole council affair was a misstep which I think we should re-evaluate.”
I could hear murmurs from the other golds, but the silvers were quiet. They seemed to be more here as observers. They were welcome guests but this is not their place, nor their matter to speak on. But then I heard a low rumble, and what I first thought was thunder was a low roar from Gelban, building until it erupted like a volcano. His foreleg cracked the stone as it slammed down when Gelban stepped forward shouting “Dalliances?!?!?” Another crack of thunder with the second step. “Where were you when I ripped Ashardalon’s heart from his chest, still beating, hatchling? Where were you when we taught men and elves the ways of magic? Still unhatched! Where were you when we bound the Primals? Still unhatched! You seek to judge me? To tell me how to guide our people? Who’s mate died in the protection of our people? Not yours! Oh that’s right – you haven’t secured a mate yet have you? When I left this position, the Flaness was still in some form of stability. I’m sure that’s not the case now. Order has not been served. Further you forgot the first rule of being a Gold dragon – always have a plan. My ‘dalliances’ with the humans, elves, halflings, and dwarves have produced allies that have enhanced the greater good of all. Your idiotic hiding in a shell like a hatchling gains us nothing. Have you moved against any of our enemies, or have you simply hoped they would do no more while you hide like a coward?” Paravandr started a reply but Gelban cut him off with a snort saying “Don’t bother lying – I can tell you don’t have anything important to say. Either give it up now, or by combat – I don’t care which. It just means more scratches on your face.”
Lord Gelban opened his wings to full spread and rose up, blocking the sun from view. But Paravandr’s thoughts were clear on his face. He was about to urge a protest, maybe even fight. But his eyes scanned the dragons assembled, and he knew that he had already lost the vote. Rather than fight a futile battle, Paravandr kneeled and lowered his head to the ground. A strong wind blew from behind him, buffeting him for a moment.
Lord Gelban leaned back and regarded him. “Better you know your place boy. Now I believe a formal apology is in order. As the reinstated Gilden, I expect you to apologize to my friends. I will leave the method to them to decide. I’m sure honor will be satisfied.”
Lord Gelban turned to us and said “Don’t abuse him too terribly much. I’ll return in half an hour.” And then he thanked each of us for his liberation, there in front of the assembled dragons. At the end, he said “I knew among all others, I could count on you.” He then went off with his son.
Paravandr came forward. He regarded each of us for a moment, taking us in. Then he said “I apologize for any disparaging comments I have made.” I’ve heard children try harder at convincing apologies. Valanthe made it clear that he’d have to try harder than just that. Paravandr then shifted shape to an elf. Or he tried too. The ears were too long, and he clearly didn’t make a habit of doing such things. He then humbly apologized, but this time I think he really meant it. He meant no harm, though his words were ill chosen.
I had many thoughts all at once about this Gold. In a way I felt bad for him. I’m sure he was doing what he thought was best, but it still felt wrong. I looked at him quietly and said “Tell me this – if Lord Gelban had been here, and it had been you chained in a pit, your soul being fed to Ashardalon, would you have wanted him to leave you to rot?” I wasn’t expecting an answer and didn’t get one. I was just disappointed that he’d leave one of his own kind there, and I think he saw that. I let it go there though – I didn’t want to torment him. Bolo spoke to him more at length, and it seemed to be a meaningful exchange. Bolo thought he was a good being who made some bad choices. Maybe by the end he decided we were more than just mere mammals, but who knows.
Hammer and Valanthe discussed an apology involving Paravandr singing “I’m a little teapot” but Valanthe didn’t abuse the defeated gold quite that badly. Aethramyr also had some private words with him. If they were as wise as Aethramyr’s words usually are, I’m sure it gave Paravandr something to think about. And I’m sure that flask was involved.
For my part, I noticed the Platinar on the far side of the arena, and I went over to say hello. He greeted me, and thanked me for my part in Lord Gelban’s release. I inquired about the Silverring and he said that he was rousing now and would be awake in two days time. Of course this was time on the Prime, since time would be moving slowly here for a while. Hopefully he’ll be awake for several weeks or months now. I asked him what he thought the reds would do. He wasn’t sure. They would likely regroup, and shore up their alliances. The Golds, he told me, get a lot more emotional about things than the Silvers to, as he waved his hand at the arena indicating the leadership challenges. But for the reds it’s much different. The Infernus has lost a prize prisoner, stolen from his very lair. There will likely be a great deal of political infighting within the reds as a result. But within the reds, that means blood will be shed. Hopefully they’ll be too busy with their own house to cause any major havoc any time soon.
We touched back on the topic of the Silverring, and the Platinar sighed. He certainly felt somewhat awkward about the state of affairs. “I am…” he started “You see.... I …. My master is tired. Tired in spirit. No dragon is older than the Silverring. He refuses to release because of his perceived debt to your race, and to the humans though Gelban bears that greater. But the Silverring remembers that he gave the knowledge of magic to us, and the things that came since. The time may come very soon when there will be a change among our kind.”
I said “Hopefully more peaceful than the one here today.” He just sighed “No… We don’t do things quite this way. The Golds can be like the reds in their way. The Silvers don’t believe in prancing about so. However should the time come, and should I be the one, know that I will be your ally. You have earned the respect of the Silvers, at least all the ones I know.”
I was moved and could say nothing and just smiled and nodded in thanks. He decided to move to another topic, saying “And I would think that Gelban has some new scales for you. Your old ones are probably burned out by now – the Silverring touched them for good reasons but such things tend to destroy the scales sooner or later.”
[OOC: At this point, somehow we got into discussions about odd creatures, such as the Custard Elemental and the Sock Golem. It’s in the notes, so it shows up here. I couldn’t make this stuff up.]
Lord Gelban returned soon enough. He took his usual human form as he landed, making conversation somewhat less of a strain on the neck. He looked over each of us and said solemnly “You all could use a bath.” With a smile he went on “I’ve slowed the passage of time here that I may understand what’s happened during my time in captivity and to allow you to rest. One minute will pass on the prime for each hour here. I suppose I could slow it more… “ and then he and Scorch got into a conversation regarding the passage of time, demi-planes, and other such subjects as to make my ears ache. Eventually they got back to the topic and Gelban went on saying “Aethramyr can fashion an abode for you with his mind. He would that we all could, but only someone of like mind can do such things here. We can take our ease and rest for as long as we like. There are meeting places around the isles where some types of commerce takes place. Indeed all of the Shining Isles is a meeting place, unlike Durance vile which is a cage and a prison.”
Scorch asked if there was a good place where he could try some things out. Somewhere that perhaps some incidental destruction would not be troublesome. I just sighed and smiled. After many side questions, Gelban said he would like to talk at length tomorrow that he might be better informed of what else has happened lately. Bolo, unable to contain his curiousity any longer, asked about Dydd and that spawned a long discussion on the nature of dragons.
Ashardalon is neither dead nor alive. Many dragons when they reach a certain age choose to “pass with dignity” as they call it. They select a time and a place, and they simply let go. Where their spirits go is unknown. They have never been able to contact one. Most dragons have accepted this, even among the chromatics. When most reds reach that kind of age, the young ones tear their throats and rip them down, so it’s rarely an issue. Whites often just fall asleep and never awaken. But for most of the more intelligent dragons, the passing is their way. But Ashardalon was different. Ashardalon saw death coming. He grew mighty and powerful to the point where some humans and elves worshipped him. He believed that he did not deserve to die, that indeed he should not die for if he did, all dragons might die. Ashardalon went wrong. He sought another way – a way not to die. And he gathered power to himself.
Gelban paused to collect his thoughts, then went on. “The Scaled Council is a fairly new thing. Well new to us – it’s relative.” He turned to me saying “Your parents would know of a time when it did not exist, had they known of it of course. It was born from an agreement – the metallics won’t make war on the chromatics if the chromatics won’t go out of their way to harm the lesser…” he corrected himself “younger races. Some good dragons would be slain by evil ones, some evil ones by good ones, but it was just the way of things, and for the most part the balance was maintained. But then Ashardalon grew reckless. He consorted with dark powers. He started slaughtering his own people to drain their life force. He did not just kill them, but drained their essence and burned it like a candle to extend his life as he grew weaker. Ashardalon raised a temple in Keoland and gathered dark priests, many recruited from far removed generations of storm lords. They began kidnapping people. It had to stop. Even the chromatics stood aside to allow this. But Ashardalon was truly powerful. Even I alone would have had difficulty, and Ashardalon had shadow magic helping him. I enlisted the aid of a powerful druid, Dydd, who had the means to counter the shadow magic. She was powerful and had tapped into some greater power. That power, when in Ashardalon’s presence, made him weaker. My mate and I went into combat. She was a human paladin. She slowed him down, and I tore his heart from his chest and threw it to the winds. Or so I thought. I thought it would kill him. I cast his body down and we cracked the earth and dropped the citadel into it.”
Most of us, save Bolo, were nodding, remembering well our journey into that citadel. “Had I realized that when I sent you for the fruit that it was the same area, I might not have sent you. Had I realized something was going on there, I might have investigated further. But my concern for my daughter blinded me. Regardless, Ashardalon lives still, has a hole in his chest still, needs energy still. This I discovered while in the Durance Vile. There is now a black hole in his chest that devours all light. Ashardalon no longer controls the Durance Vile, and yet in ways he does. Infernus and Ashardalon have an uneasy détente. The bore into the Durance Vile from the shadow plane makes me think that Ashardalon is trying to increase his power but he is now only a puppet for the Shadow King.”
As Gelban continued his thought, his eyes narrowed. “Infernus is no easy thing, but if I see him again, I’ll show him what I did to Ashardalon.” He seethed a moment but then returned to the moment, working his way around to Bolo’s original question. “I knew you were a descendant of Dydd – our auguries told us as much. And you have the same power to weaken Ashardalon as she did. That’s not the reason you were chosen however. The Druids were my allies. But many of them were attacked, just as you were. Very few of them survived. You are quite possibly one of the most powerful druids left in the world. Ashardalon has taken steps to try to destroy the old religion. For my part I will do what I can to help, but I confess I’m not sure what to do.” Bolo sank into stunned silence as the realization hit him that the reason he’d been unable to contact his order was that most of them were dead.
Before we ended our conversation, Lord Gelban gave each of us a new scale. Personally I was glad to have it back. It may be simple but it may also be our most powerful tool.
The next day, we met again and informed Lord Gelban of all that had been happening in his absence. He was insistent on recounting every detail, and it took some hours to recount it all. For our part we held nothing back, save for the omission of the precise location of Ruun Khazai. If Lord Gelban wanted to know, he showed no indication, and did not ask. After the ancient gold was satisfied, we asked our own questions. We asked of the Shadow Taker but Lord Gelban knew little of him, and suggested asking the Silverring.
We also asked what he knew about more powerful weapons, and explained our concerns as related to the creatures like GlaceRage and the beholder. He said that most items of that power have come from celestials or fiends, or have been manufactured in secret by very enterprising mortals. What he could tell us was this: it is not a trivial matter to make such items. It usually requires access to a major power source and great skill. It is very hard to upgrade an existing item, as exposure to the power usually will destroy the item. This is especially true for Primals. Usually such a thing is too chaotic to last long. Of course the most distressing part about such a technique is that you need access to a Primal to make it work, and that’s a very uncomfortable idea. I recalled seeing the solars earlier and asked if perhaps they would know something about the celestial sources of such things and he said he would check.
Bolo I think asked about the Mark of Fire, and that it wasn’t a Primal but Prince Sumez who gave it to us. Lord Gelban reminded us of what we already knew: Prince Sumez was a liar. He didn’t give us the mark. We already had it. He simply made it visible. Some beings are simply born with it. We are like wildfire. We bring about cataclysms that change things. Aethramyr also bears the Mark of Earth – it brings stasis and stability.
In passing the matter of the Greyhawk dragons came up. Lord Gelban knew of them, and said they were a bastard breed. (He meant no disrespect, just as a matter-of-fact.) We knew of the Invoked Devastation and the Rain of Colorless Fire, but magic of that magnitude has other consequences. Many died, but many others were no longer of their breed. They had been changed. This is what happened to the Greyhawk Dragons. They prefer to be human more than dragon. Gelban thought the souls of the dying and the dead entered into those dragons and changed them, terrified them perhaps. Scared them grey. They distanced themselves from the other dragons, and see themselves as mankind’s protectors. They are a force to be reckoned with, but particularly in Greyhawk, which they view as their territory. They were probably caught napping when the chromatics moved, just like so many others were. Lord Gelban views them as undisciplined but they are not at all a threat.
After we had all spent ourselves on questions, we tended to our individual affairs. The next few weeks went by quickly. Scorch and Dravot spent some time making magic items, and other such things. I’m actually not sure what most of the others were up to. Myself I just relaxed. But the humans began getting impatient to return, and I suppose it was time. But before we left, we wanted to check into where Brontal the smith might be. Based on the answers from Dravot’s Commune, he was involved with the Shadow Taker. Scorch tried to scry him, but it showed some kind of unrelated image. Dravot however decided to try something more potent, and enjoined Pelor to reveal Brontal’s location. He saw an image of the smith floating in a bath of golden light, which turned painfully white after a moment. The man was sleeping or unconscious somewhat like Zera or Zara while in the demi-plane. Indeed Pelor revealed that the man was in a demi-plane called The Bestiary. The knowledge was important, but not as helpful as I’d hoped.
With that we were ready to return, and Scorch opened a Gate to the Land of Black Ice. There were some… issues with our arrival. What with time passing more quickly in the Shining Isles, our entry was something less than graceful. Bolo scared the wits from some poor guardsman, but otherwise we arrived in tact. We headed for the great rowan and saw the Owl on the way. The village had come a long way, and as we walked the townsfolk showed a mix of awe and reverence for our assembled party. I was uncertain what to think of our reputations and just accepted it for now. Ariadne and Ravenna were in the tree, and both the tree and Ravenna were looking much healthier. Ariadne squealed when she saw us and gave me a hug, and already knew her father was back safely.
Scorch, in his typical inelegant way, told Ravenna that we had seen Rackhir. She seemed shocked by Scorch’s bluntness, but given how direct Ravenna has been in the past I was surprised she’d balk at that. Ravenna was a bit stunned but said little else.
When she recovered her wits, she presented Bolo with a box, which she said was a gift for him from “Mother.” It was a small bracelet of living ivy.
From there we spread out and tended to our own matters. Bolo went to talk to his parent, none to eager to explain to them that he was now an elf. I don’t envy him for that conversation. Telling my parent that I had died was hard enough. Apparently they took it fairly well, although his mother did say “I’m sure if we talk to your friend Scorch he can fix you.”
Scorch went off to see how his sister Ember was doing. Apparently she was studying hard and was flourishing under the Owl’s tutelage. There had been some trouble recently with nomads from the Wolf Clan attacking but the town easily repelled them. Dravot spent some time with the local church.
I spent some time with Ariadne. She was of course concerned about her father and us. I managed to avoid telling her too many details about the whole matter – I wasn’t sure what would be appropriate, and I felt that she might be very upset if she learned the exact details of her father’s captivity.
We seem to be of a mind that our next task will be to break Zera free of the curse, and recover the Light of Reason. We’ll want to talk to the Silverring before we go, to see what he knows of the Shadow Taker. This got us talking about the Lendores and a possible visit there but none of us had ever been there to teleport. We tried to think of someone who might be there we could scry, but all we could think of was the Silverring. I was delighted when Scorch let me use the crystal ball to try to scry him, but unfortunately I couldn’t key in on him. Then I decided to peek in on Aran’gel quickly, which worked just fine. He was hunting some stray twig blights in the forest. Scorch didn’t seem to care for that use as much so I didn’t push it, but I did smile a lot. Meanwhile the only other person we could think of who might be connected was the sea captain who sailed us across the Nyr Dyv. Unfortunately he was still on the Nyr Dyv so a trip to the Lendores would have to wait for a bit. But it might be wise to go there before we visit the Shadow Taker. Dravot and I have discussed him at length and are concerned that he has been watching us for some time. We’d like to somehow approach him without divination magics giving us away but protecting the entire group seems an impossible task.
But one way or another, our path will take us to Ekbir. And soon.
The Durance Vile - Epilogue
OOC Notes:
Exp is 2000.
Loot:
30k per person brings us up to date – books are closed
This Week’s Adventure:
Lord Gelban continued his telepathic exchange with the titan. As he did, the wind started picking up, but there were no clouds with it. It had the smell of an unusual wind, but I couldn’t say why. As I scanned the skies, it was apparent that the Shining Isles was a much bigger demi-plane than the Durance Vile was. There seemed to be no end to the ocean and islands scattered about. While the Durance Vile was a small fortress, this seemed to be an expansive place for a more collaborative purpose. And so far, nothing had tried to kill us, which was of course a plus.
Lord Gelban stopped suddenly and rose to his full height and muttered “Very well. So you won’t relinquish it willingly. At least now I’m sure who it is.” We said a few quiet words to each other, but dragon ears miss little. Lord Gelban said “I can hear you, you know, and yes I do intend to … discuss the matter. Son are you coming?” My eyebrows raised as the titan said “Yes, father,” and then slammed his fist into the ground and with a small spray of blood, dragon wings erupted from his back.
Before taking to the air, Lord Gelban turned to us. “There will be some difficulty ahead. If you wish to remain here, I understand. I do not wish to put you in an unpleasant situation.” The reactions varied from Hammer saying “Agh, I’m not gonna miss this!” to some of us remarking that the Durance Vile was unpleasant, and how unlikely it was that this would be more so. There was a massive rush of air as Lord Gelban launched into the sky with a single beat of his wings, and we all fell in behind him, most of us riding Hammer and Tongs. As we rose in the sky, the Titan introduced himself as Dormantd. I was about to introduce myself but then realized that he probably already knew who we were and he smiled and said he did, and we all did our best to keep pace with the massive gold dragon in front of us.
As we passed over one island, a pair of silver dragons shot out from the trees below, as though they had been waiting. They rose quickly and each breathed a blast of cold at Lord Gelban, who banked and avoided both. Lord Gelban for the most part ignored them, and the silvers then fell into formation behind him. Dormandt was close enough to be heard, and easily read the confused looks on our faces. He called out “It is the Gauntlet. The challenge for the right of the Gilden. If he cannot stand up to the forces, then he is not fit to lead us. I would have hoped he would have rested and prepared, but so be it.” I asked him pointedly what the protocols of the ritual were and he had no difficulty understanding my meaning. He replied “Father would be quite cross with you if you interfered directly.”
His answer spoke volumes.
Lord Gelban then suddenly dove into the open sea, launching a massive spray into the air. After a moment he came back into the sky, followed by two smaller gold dragons who also fell in behind him. As the ancient gold rose, Hammer banked near him and got Dravot close enough to cast a quick endurance enhancement on him. If was not interfering directly after all. I tried to convince Tongs to do the same so I could cast a Cat’s Grace but I couldn’t convince her to do it. She seemed hesitant about the entire matter and did not want to risk overstepping any bound. As one of the only two copper dragons in sight, I can see why she might feel this way. Personally, I wasn’t above interfering directly if it seemed warranted – “quite cross” wasn’t much of a discouragement.
Two more silvers were waiting in the air, and Lord Gelban avoided most of their breath weapons as well, and they too joined the formation. From above, two solars came into view, each taking a single swing with their blades as Lord Gelban passed. (Dravot was sure one of them missed on purpose.)
We went through some ten minutes of this, passing over island and sea, with some twenty dragons in formation as well as a few solars and some other beings. Lord Gelban was lightly wounded but fairly well intact for whatever lay ahead. On an island ahead were a series of joined columns, forty feet high with arches connecting them outlining a large oval shape. Waiting calmly in the center was a gold dragon – large but not so large as the one we followed. There were dragons arrayed all around the area somewhat haphazardly, or so it seemed until the following dragons landed, each in their designated area. It just underscored how the Shining Isles, while beautiful, was a bit too orderly and forced for my tastes.
Lord Gelban went into a dive and rose back up over the arena in a tight arc. Then he dropped like a rock til he was mere feet from the ground and with a single wingbeat landed on the island with a crack of stone and cloud of dust. Tongs seemed uncertain where to land but her brother had no worry for propriety and he went straight for an open space at the edge of the arena behind Lord Gelban. Tongs sighed and follwed him in.
Gelban reared up slightly after landing and his voice boomed out with a patronizing tone “Paravandr… I thank you for watching over the Gold’s direction in my absence. Your services are no longer needed in that capacity.”
The air was still, and it seemed as if there was no reply. But dragons are subtle, and my ears picked up a small snort from the other gold. He was quiet for a moment more then he tilted his head in reply. “Gelban, I am glad to see you unharmed. We had hoped to negotiate for your release but I see your… mammals have freed you.”
“No thanks to you,” I said under my breath, knowing full well the dragon could easily hear me. Paravandr did hear, and inhaled slightly but he continued unfazed “However the Golds have spoken in your absence. They have decided that my way is the better course. Your continual… dalliances with the less civic minded creatures of the Flaness have caused the Golds and Silvers trouble. We have tried our best to guide them over time, but I think we’ve wasted too many resources trying to guide these more chaotically minded beings. We can serve the greater good in other ways.”
“By sitting on your arses and doing nothing,” was Valanthe’s whispered reply, and I had to stifle my laugh. Again, Paravandr did his best to ignore it and go on.
“Your guilt and fondness over these creatures, while laudable, has clouded your judgement with regards to them. The whole council affair was a misstep which I think we should re-evaluate.”
I could hear murmurs from the other golds, but the silvers were quiet. They seemed to be more here as observers. They were welcome guests but this is not their place, nor their matter to speak on. But then I heard a low rumble, and what I first thought was thunder was a low roar from Gelban, building until it erupted like a volcano. His foreleg cracked the stone as it slammed down when Gelban stepped forward shouting “Dalliances?!?!?” Another crack of thunder with the second step. “Where were you when I ripped Ashardalon’s heart from his chest, still beating, hatchling? Where were you when we taught men and elves the ways of magic? Still unhatched! Where were you when we bound the Primals? Still unhatched! You seek to judge me? To tell me how to guide our people? Who’s mate died in the protection of our people? Not yours! Oh that’s right – you haven’t secured a mate yet have you? When I left this position, the Flaness was still in some form of stability. I’m sure that’s not the case now. Order has not been served. Further you forgot the first rule of being a Gold dragon – always have a plan. My ‘dalliances’ with the humans, elves, halflings, and dwarves have produced allies that have enhanced the greater good of all. Your idiotic hiding in a shell like a hatchling gains us nothing. Have you moved against any of our enemies, or have you simply hoped they would do no more while you hide like a coward?” Paravandr started a reply but Gelban cut him off with a snort saying “Don’t bother lying – I can tell you don’t have anything important to say. Either give it up now, or by combat – I don’t care which. It just means more scratches on your face.”
Lord Gelban opened his wings to full spread and rose up, blocking the sun from view. But Paravandr’s thoughts were clear on his face. He was about to urge a protest, maybe even fight. But his eyes scanned the dragons assembled, and he knew that he had already lost the vote. Rather than fight a futile battle, Paravandr kneeled and lowered his head to the ground. A strong wind blew from behind him, buffeting him for a moment.
Lord Gelban leaned back and regarded him. “Better you know your place boy. Now I believe a formal apology is in order. As the reinstated Gilden, I expect you to apologize to my friends. I will leave the method to them to decide. I’m sure honor will be satisfied.”
Lord Gelban turned to us and said “Don’t abuse him too terribly much. I’ll return in half an hour.” And then he thanked each of us for his liberation, there in front of the assembled dragons. At the end, he said “I knew among all others, I could count on you.” He then went off with his son.
Paravandr came forward. He regarded each of us for a moment, taking us in. Then he said “I apologize for any disparaging comments I have made.” I’ve heard children try harder at convincing apologies. Valanthe made it clear that he’d have to try harder than just that. Paravandr then shifted shape to an elf. Or he tried too. The ears were too long, and he clearly didn’t make a habit of doing such things. He then humbly apologized, but this time I think he really meant it. He meant no harm, though his words were ill chosen.
I had many thoughts all at once about this Gold. In a way I felt bad for him. I’m sure he was doing what he thought was best, but it still felt wrong. I looked at him quietly and said “Tell me this – if Lord Gelban had been here, and it had been you chained in a pit, your soul being fed to Ashardalon, would you have wanted him to leave you to rot?” I wasn’t expecting an answer and didn’t get one. I was just disappointed that he’d leave one of his own kind there, and I think he saw that. I let it go there though – I didn’t want to torment him. Bolo spoke to him more at length, and it seemed to be a meaningful exchange. Bolo thought he was a good being who made some bad choices. Maybe by the end he decided we were more than just mere mammals, but who knows.
Hammer and Valanthe discussed an apology involving Paravandr singing “I’m a little teapot” but Valanthe didn’t abuse the defeated gold quite that badly. Aethramyr also had some private words with him. If they were as wise as Aethramyr’s words usually are, I’m sure it gave Paravandr something to think about. And I’m sure that flask was involved.
For my part, I noticed the Platinar on the far side of the arena, and I went over to say hello. He greeted me, and thanked me for my part in Lord Gelban’s release. I inquired about the Silverring and he said that he was rousing now and would be awake in two days time. Of course this was time on the Prime, since time would be moving slowly here for a while. Hopefully he’ll be awake for several weeks or months now. I asked him what he thought the reds would do. He wasn’t sure. They would likely regroup, and shore up their alliances. The Golds, he told me, get a lot more emotional about things than the Silvers to, as he waved his hand at the arena indicating the leadership challenges. But for the reds it’s much different. The Infernus has lost a prize prisoner, stolen from his very lair. There will likely be a great deal of political infighting within the reds as a result. But within the reds, that means blood will be shed. Hopefully they’ll be too busy with their own house to cause any major havoc any time soon.
We touched back on the topic of the Silverring, and the Platinar sighed. He certainly felt somewhat awkward about the state of affairs. “I am…” he started “You see.... I …. My master is tired. Tired in spirit. No dragon is older than the Silverring. He refuses to release because of his perceived debt to your race, and to the humans though Gelban bears that greater. But the Silverring remembers that he gave the knowledge of magic to us, and the things that came since. The time may come very soon when there will be a change among our kind.”
I said “Hopefully more peaceful than the one here today.” He just sighed “No… We don’t do things quite this way. The Golds can be like the reds in their way. The Silvers don’t believe in prancing about so. However should the time come, and should I be the one, know that I will be your ally. You have earned the respect of the Silvers, at least all the ones I know.”
I was moved and could say nothing and just smiled and nodded in thanks. He decided to move to another topic, saying “And I would think that Gelban has some new scales for you. Your old ones are probably burned out by now – the Silverring touched them for good reasons but such things tend to destroy the scales sooner or later.”
[OOC: At this point, somehow we got into discussions about odd creatures, such as the Custard Elemental and the Sock Golem. It’s in the notes, so it shows up here. I couldn’t make this stuff up.]
Lord Gelban returned soon enough. He took his usual human form as he landed, making conversation somewhat less of a strain on the neck. He looked over each of us and said solemnly “You all could use a bath.” With a smile he went on “I’ve slowed the passage of time here that I may understand what’s happened during my time in captivity and to allow you to rest. One minute will pass on the prime for each hour here. I suppose I could slow it more… “ and then he and Scorch got into a conversation regarding the passage of time, demi-planes, and other such subjects as to make my ears ache. Eventually they got back to the topic and Gelban went on saying “Aethramyr can fashion an abode for you with his mind. He would that we all could, but only someone of like mind can do such things here. We can take our ease and rest for as long as we like. There are meeting places around the isles where some types of commerce takes place. Indeed all of the Shining Isles is a meeting place, unlike Durance vile which is a cage and a prison.”
Scorch asked if there was a good place where he could try some things out. Somewhere that perhaps some incidental destruction would not be troublesome. I just sighed and smiled. After many side questions, Gelban said he would like to talk at length tomorrow that he might be better informed of what else has happened lately. Bolo, unable to contain his curiousity any longer, asked about Dydd and that spawned a long discussion on the nature of dragons.
Ashardalon is neither dead nor alive. Many dragons when they reach a certain age choose to “pass with dignity” as they call it. They select a time and a place, and they simply let go. Where their spirits go is unknown. They have never been able to contact one. Most dragons have accepted this, even among the chromatics. When most reds reach that kind of age, the young ones tear their throats and rip them down, so it’s rarely an issue. Whites often just fall asleep and never awaken. But for most of the more intelligent dragons, the passing is their way. But Ashardalon was different. Ashardalon saw death coming. He grew mighty and powerful to the point where some humans and elves worshipped him. He believed that he did not deserve to die, that indeed he should not die for if he did, all dragons might die. Ashardalon went wrong. He sought another way – a way not to die. And he gathered power to himself.
Gelban paused to collect his thoughts, then went on. “The Scaled Council is a fairly new thing. Well new to us – it’s relative.” He turned to me saying “Your parents would know of a time when it did not exist, had they known of it of course. It was born from an agreement – the metallics won’t make war on the chromatics if the chromatics won’t go out of their way to harm the lesser…” he corrected himself “younger races. Some good dragons would be slain by evil ones, some evil ones by good ones, but it was just the way of things, and for the most part the balance was maintained. But then Ashardalon grew reckless. He consorted with dark powers. He started slaughtering his own people to drain their life force. He did not just kill them, but drained their essence and burned it like a candle to extend his life as he grew weaker. Ashardalon raised a temple in Keoland and gathered dark priests, many recruited from far removed generations of storm lords. They began kidnapping people. It had to stop. Even the chromatics stood aside to allow this. But Ashardalon was truly powerful. Even I alone would have had difficulty, and Ashardalon had shadow magic helping him. I enlisted the aid of a powerful druid, Dydd, who had the means to counter the shadow magic. She was powerful and had tapped into some greater power. That power, when in Ashardalon’s presence, made him weaker. My mate and I went into combat. She was a human paladin. She slowed him down, and I tore his heart from his chest and threw it to the winds. Or so I thought. I thought it would kill him. I cast his body down and we cracked the earth and dropped the citadel into it.”
Most of us, save Bolo, were nodding, remembering well our journey into that citadel. “Had I realized that when I sent you for the fruit that it was the same area, I might not have sent you. Had I realized something was going on there, I might have investigated further. But my concern for my daughter blinded me. Regardless, Ashardalon lives still, has a hole in his chest still, needs energy still. This I discovered while in the Durance Vile. There is now a black hole in his chest that devours all light. Ashardalon no longer controls the Durance Vile, and yet in ways he does. Infernus and Ashardalon have an uneasy détente. The bore into the Durance Vile from the shadow plane makes me think that Ashardalon is trying to increase his power but he is now only a puppet for the Shadow King.”
As Gelban continued his thought, his eyes narrowed. “Infernus is no easy thing, but if I see him again, I’ll show him what I did to Ashardalon.” He seethed a moment but then returned to the moment, working his way around to Bolo’s original question. “I knew you were a descendant of Dydd – our auguries told us as much. And you have the same power to weaken Ashardalon as she did. That’s not the reason you were chosen however. The Druids were my allies. But many of them were attacked, just as you were. Very few of them survived. You are quite possibly one of the most powerful druids left in the world. Ashardalon has taken steps to try to destroy the old religion. For my part I will do what I can to help, but I confess I’m not sure what to do.” Bolo sank into stunned silence as the realization hit him that the reason he’d been unable to contact his order was that most of them were dead.
Before we ended our conversation, Lord Gelban gave each of us a new scale. Personally I was glad to have it back. It may be simple but it may also be our most powerful tool.
The next day, we met again and informed Lord Gelban of all that had been happening in his absence. He was insistent on recounting every detail, and it took some hours to recount it all. For our part we held nothing back, save for the omission of the precise location of Ruun Khazai. If Lord Gelban wanted to know, he showed no indication, and did not ask. After the ancient gold was satisfied, we asked our own questions. We asked of the Shadow Taker but Lord Gelban knew little of him, and suggested asking the Silverring.
We also asked what he knew about more powerful weapons, and explained our concerns as related to the creatures like GlaceRage and the beholder. He said that most items of that power have come from celestials or fiends, or have been manufactured in secret by very enterprising mortals. What he could tell us was this: it is not a trivial matter to make such items. It usually requires access to a major power source and great skill. It is very hard to upgrade an existing item, as exposure to the power usually will destroy the item. This is especially true for Primals. Usually such a thing is too chaotic to last long. Of course the most distressing part about such a technique is that you need access to a Primal to make it work, and that’s a very uncomfortable idea. I recalled seeing the solars earlier and asked if perhaps they would know something about the celestial sources of such things and he said he would check.
Bolo I think asked about the Mark of Fire, and that it wasn’t a Primal but Prince Sumez who gave it to us. Lord Gelban reminded us of what we already knew: Prince Sumez was a liar. He didn’t give us the mark. We already had it. He simply made it visible. Some beings are simply born with it. We are like wildfire. We bring about cataclysms that change things. Aethramyr also bears the Mark of Earth – it brings stasis and stability.
In passing the matter of the Greyhawk dragons came up. Lord Gelban knew of them, and said they were a bastard breed. (He meant no disrespect, just as a matter-of-fact.) We knew of the Invoked Devastation and the Rain of Colorless Fire, but magic of that magnitude has other consequences. Many died, but many others were no longer of their breed. They had been changed. This is what happened to the Greyhawk Dragons. They prefer to be human more than dragon. Gelban thought the souls of the dying and the dead entered into those dragons and changed them, terrified them perhaps. Scared them grey. They distanced themselves from the other dragons, and see themselves as mankind’s protectors. They are a force to be reckoned with, but particularly in Greyhawk, which they view as their territory. They were probably caught napping when the chromatics moved, just like so many others were. Lord Gelban views them as undisciplined but they are not at all a threat.
After we had all spent ourselves on questions, we tended to our individual affairs. The next few weeks went by quickly. Scorch and Dravot spent some time making magic items, and other such things. I’m actually not sure what most of the others were up to. Myself I just relaxed. But the humans began getting impatient to return, and I suppose it was time. But before we left, we wanted to check into where Brontal the smith might be. Based on the answers from Dravot’s Commune, he was involved with the Shadow Taker. Scorch tried to scry him, but it showed some kind of unrelated image. Dravot however decided to try something more potent, and enjoined Pelor to reveal Brontal’s location. He saw an image of the smith floating in a bath of golden light, which turned painfully white after a moment. The man was sleeping or unconscious somewhat like Zera or Zara while in the demi-plane. Indeed Pelor revealed that the man was in a demi-plane called The Bestiary. The knowledge was important, but not as helpful as I’d hoped.
With that we were ready to return, and Scorch opened a Gate to the Land of Black Ice. There were some… issues with our arrival. What with time passing more quickly in the Shining Isles, our entry was something less than graceful. Bolo scared the wits from some poor guardsman, but otherwise we arrived in tact. We headed for the great rowan and saw the Owl on the way. The village had come a long way, and as we walked the townsfolk showed a mix of awe and reverence for our assembled party. I was uncertain what to think of our reputations and just accepted it for now. Ariadne and Ravenna were in the tree, and both the tree and Ravenna were looking much healthier. Ariadne squealed when she saw us and gave me a hug, and already knew her father was back safely.
Scorch, in his typical inelegant way, told Ravenna that we had seen Rackhir. She seemed shocked by Scorch’s bluntness, but given how direct Ravenna has been in the past I was surprised she’d balk at that. Ravenna was a bit stunned but said little else.
When she recovered her wits, she presented Bolo with a box, which she said was a gift for him from “Mother.” It was a small bracelet of living ivy.
From there we spread out and tended to our own matters. Bolo went to talk to his parent, none to eager to explain to them that he was now an elf. I don’t envy him for that conversation. Telling my parent that I had died was hard enough. Apparently they took it fairly well, although his mother did say “I’m sure if we talk to your friend Scorch he can fix you.”
Scorch went off to see how his sister Ember was doing. Apparently she was studying hard and was flourishing under the Owl’s tutelage. There had been some trouble recently with nomads from the Wolf Clan attacking but the town easily repelled them. Dravot spent some time with the local church.
I spent some time with Ariadne. She was of course concerned about her father and us. I managed to avoid telling her too many details about the whole matter – I wasn’t sure what would be appropriate, and I felt that she might be very upset if she learned the exact details of her father’s captivity.
We seem to be of a mind that our next task will be to break Zera free of the curse, and recover the Light of Reason. We’ll want to talk to the Silverring before we go, to see what he knows of the Shadow Taker. This got us talking about the Lendores and a possible visit there but none of us had ever been there to teleport. We tried to think of someone who might be there we could scry, but all we could think of was the Silverring. I was delighted when Scorch let me use the crystal ball to try to scry him, but unfortunately I couldn’t key in on him. Then I decided to peek in on Aran’gel quickly, which worked just fine. He was hunting some stray twig blights in the forest. Scorch didn’t seem to care for that use as much so I didn’t push it, but I did smile a lot. Meanwhile the only other person we could think of who might be connected was the sea captain who sailed us across the Nyr Dyv. Unfortunately he was still on the Nyr Dyv so a trip to the Lendores would have to wait for a bit. But it might be wise to go there before we visit the Shadow Taker. Dravot and I have discussed him at length and are concerned that he has been watching us for some time. We’d like to somehow approach him without divination magics giving us away but protecting the entire group seems an impossible task.
But one way or another, our path will take us to Ekbir. And soon.
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