covaithe
Explorer
[sblock=Caged Fury]"Again, young one," the wizened elf's eyes twinkled behind deep wrinkles as he leaned on his staff. "You are beginning to understand. Good! Good! Again, but slower, yes?"
Obediently you begin the practice routine again, for what feels like the hundredth time since you arrived. As your mind relaxes into the exquisitely slow, precise movements, your eyes drift in the direction of the monastery, obscured from here by the ever-present mists. Consisting of a few dozen squat, simple buildings clustered haphazardly around the huge, ancient library, the quarters at the monastery are unlike any other that you've visited in your travels. Neither austere nor luxurious, the accommodations here are... halfhearted. Utilitarian, certainly, but badly maintained, as though someone had put in enough effort to ensure a basic level of comfort, but then completely forgotten about the mundane details of daily life. Which certainly describes the monks here. Unlike other monasteries, there are almost no rules here, no common background or discipline for the monks. They aren't really monks, even; just people from all walks of live who have gravitated here by an intense desire to study and contemplate the vast store of writings, both holy and mundane, in the library. The Raven Queen's power protects this place, and despite the mountaintop cold, the constant swirling mists, high winds, and occasional storms, the books preserved here do not suffer the ravages of time. There are entire wings full of texts that are completely unique, all other copies having faded to dust centuries ago.
Ling Kao Po is one of those who study here, and unlike many others, the outside world has not yet forgotten him. An unmatched master of unarmed combat in his prime, Master Po trained many legendary warriors before retiring into the mists of Zvomarana for study and contemplation. In your travels, seeking to improve your skills, his name was mentioned so many times with such reverence that, at last, you made your way by magic to the base of the great mountain in the Shadowfell where Zvomarana lies, and began the arduous climb to the summit.
"Focus!" the ancient monk's voice calls sharply, breaking you out of your reverie. Chastened, you complete the routine crisply, with full concentration, at last coming to stand at rest before Master Po, arms ready at your sides.
Master Po stares at you in silence for several moments before speaking. "There is great potential in you, young one. You have skill, yes, and power. But I think you have not yet found your center. There is anger in you. You go too fast, strike too soon, before the time is ripe. Whatever Fate has in store for you... and I think it must surely be something... If you cannot find peace inside yourself, Fate may pass you by. Ah, but what am I saying?" He chuckles, an eerie sound, here in this isolated clearing. "You are young, of course you are impatient. Still... I do not think you can afford for age to calm your fires. Something is coming."
"My old bones need a fire and a good book. You keep practicing. Work on the slow form. Concentrate on your balance. Be the still center, and let the movements flow around you and carry you like a leaf on the wind. Tomorrow I will show you something new, yes? You'll like it, it's violent." He cackles, then scampers off into the mists, using his staff like a third leg. You sigh, and begin the form again.
Hours later, you return to the monastery. The path is hard to find, through the mists, and if the monks had not shown you half a dozen times, you would still find it nearly impossible to navigate. When you step out of the mists, the scene is a terrible shock. The great library is on fire. It is a terrible, unnaturally hot blaze, and it stinks of sulfur. Even the great stones seem to have melted like wax in the tremendous heat. Bodies of monks like strewn around the clearing in the mists like discarded rags, many of them with serious burns, but others with deep slashing wounds.
You rush to the hut where Master Po stays, and where you have been sleeping, these last weeks. Set back a ways from the library itself, it is untouched by the fire, but the walls have been caved in by heavy hammer-blows, collapsing the stone ceiling. Black-armored bodies are strewn around the entrance. Master Po must have held the doorway, prompting them to destroy the building around him rather than fight him.
Digging through the rubble, you eventually come across Master Po's broken, lifeless body, crushed beneath the weight of the stone room. In his arms he cradles a thin, leather-bound book of indeterminate age, protecting it from the rocks. The cover is labelled "Meditations". When you gently take the book out of his hands, a stir of movement behind you makes you turn. There is no one there, but there is a clear pathway through the mist that was never there before, leading westward.
ooc: Hopefully this fits well enough with your character's background. You'll want to go down the path, please.
I'll get you connected to the rest of the party soon.
[/sblock]
Obediently you begin the practice routine again, for what feels like the hundredth time since you arrived. As your mind relaxes into the exquisitely slow, precise movements, your eyes drift in the direction of the monastery, obscured from here by the ever-present mists. Consisting of a few dozen squat, simple buildings clustered haphazardly around the huge, ancient library, the quarters at the monastery are unlike any other that you've visited in your travels. Neither austere nor luxurious, the accommodations here are... halfhearted. Utilitarian, certainly, but badly maintained, as though someone had put in enough effort to ensure a basic level of comfort, but then completely forgotten about the mundane details of daily life. Which certainly describes the monks here. Unlike other monasteries, there are almost no rules here, no common background or discipline for the monks. They aren't really monks, even; just people from all walks of live who have gravitated here by an intense desire to study and contemplate the vast store of writings, both holy and mundane, in the library. The Raven Queen's power protects this place, and despite the mountaintop cold, the constant swirling mists, high winds, and occasional storms, the books preserved here do not suffer the ravages of time. There are entire wings full of texts that are completely unique, all other copies having faded to dust centuries ago.
Ling Kao Po is one of those who study here, and unlike many others, the outside world has not yet forgotten him. An unmatched master of unarmed combat in his prime, Master Po trained many legendary warriors before retiring into the mists of Zvomarana for study and contemplation. In your travels, seeking to improve your skills, his name was mentioned so many times with such reverence that, at last, you made your way by magic to the base of the great mountain in the Shadowfell where Zvomarana lies, and began the arduous climb to the summit.
"Focus!" the ancient monk's voice calls sharply, breaking you out of your reverie. Chastened, you complete the routine crisply, with full concentration, at last coming to stand at rest before Master Po, arms ready at your sides.
Master Po stares at you in silence for several moments before speaking. "There is great potential in you, young one. You have skill, yes, and power. But I think you have not yet found your center. There is anger in you. You go too fast, strike too soon, before the time is ripe. Whatever Fate has in store for you... and I think it must surely be something... If you cannot find peace inside yourself, Fate may pass you by. Ah, but what am I saying?" He chuckles, an eerie sound, here in this isolated clearing. "You are young, of course you are impatient. Still... I do not think you can afford for age to calm your fires. Something is coming."
"My old bones need a fire and a good book. You keep practicing. Work on the slow form. Concentrate on your balance. Be the still center, and let the movements flow around you and carry you like a leaf on the wind. Tomorrow I will show you something new, yes? You'll like it, it's violent." He cackles, then scampers off into the mists, using his staff like a third leg. You sigh, and begin the form again.
Hours later, you return to the monastery. The path is hard to find, through the mists, and if the monks had not shown you half a dozen times, you would still find it nearly impossible to navigate. When you step out of the mists, the scene is a terrible shock. The great library is on fire. It is a terrible, unnaturally hot blaze, and it stinks of sulfur. Even the great stones seem to have melted like wax in the tremendous heat. Bodies of monks like strewn around the clearing in the mists like discarded rags, many of them with serious burns, but others with deep slashing wounds.
You rush to the hut where Master Po stays, and where you have been sleeping, these last weeks. Set back a ways from the library itself, it is untouched by the fire, but the walls have been caved in by heavy hammer-blows, collapsing the stone ceiling. Black-armored bodies are strewn around the entrance. Master Po must have held the doorway, prompting them to destroy the building around him rather than fight him.
Digging through the rubble, you eventually come across Master Po's broken, lifeless body, crushed beneath the weight of the stone room. In his arms he cradles a thin, leather-bound book of indeterminate age, protecting it from the rocks. The cover is labelled "Meditations". When you gently take the book out of his hands, a stir of movement behind you makes you turn. There is no one there, but there is a clear pathway through the mist that was never there before, leading westward.
ooc: Hopefully this fits well enough with your character's background. You'll want to go down the path, please.
I'll get you connected to the rest of the party soon. [/sblock]
