Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 7443458" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 172The dwarven temple was on the lower levels of Underhold, on a jut that overlooked the lake fifty feet below.  Dergan did not accompany Quellan inside, excusing himself to attend to unspecified business of the Council.  The half-orc thanked him for his aid and went inside.The interior of the temple was much larger than the exterior had suggested, its chambers burrowing deep into the rock of the mountain.  The massive stone blocks that made up the vestibule were ancient, and Quellan could make out faint runes still etched into their surface.  He was not especially familiar with dwarven history, but he guessed that this place probably dated back far enough that it might have served as a temple to the Stone Lord, back before the dwarves joined the other races in paying homage to the New Gods.  The stylized book of Hosrenu carved over the interior arch looked much more recent than the rest of the place.Quellan peered briefly through the arch into the nave of the temple.  The manner in which it was laid out was a bit different than the other temples he had visited, but there was enough of the familiar to offer him a sense of reassurance.  He almost stopped to pray—he could have used a moment’s peace right then—but the directions that Dergan had given him led him to the rear of the temple behind the altar, where a much humbler arch led to a recessed door.  He went to the door and knocked on it.  There was no response.  He tried the door and found that it was unlocked.“Hello?” he said, sticking his head inside.This chamber was more familiar to him, with its racks of books and multiple writing desks situated strategically throughout the room.  A coal fire burned in a hearth fronted with a metal screen, adding a friendly warmth.  Two doorways led to other parts of the temple, but the place appeared to be empty.Quellan hesitated in the doorway, not wanting to trespass.  He was about to go back when a voice from the main temple drew his attention back around.“I never thought I would see the day when an orc entered the sanctum.”The speaker was an elderly dwarf, his hair and beard a pale gray that was almost white, his features a complex landscape of crags and ridges.  He was dressed in a simple robe that fell from his broad shoulders to brush lightly on the bare stone of the temple floor.  The eyes that fixed on Quellan burned with an outrage that the half-orc knew only too well.“I am here with the diplomatic party from Arresh,” Quellan said.“So I am told,” the dwarf said.  “I have heard that you brought a demon-spawn with you in the city.  Is that true?”“You did not mention my human friend,” Quellan said.  “Perhaps you had something to do with why he is here?”The dwarf gave him a hard look.  “What do you want, boy?”Quellan resisted the urge to sigh—“boy” was at least an incremental step better than “orc.”  “I seek knowledge, elder,” he said.The dwarf’s expression did not give in the slightest.  “You know the words, but even a well-trained animal can be taught tricks.  There is nothing for you here.”Quellan allowed a bit of the anger he’d kept banked to slip free.  “I am an anointed priest of Hosrenu.”  The dwarf started to protest, but he said, “Beyond that, I am an emissary of the Kingdom of Arresh, with a seal of appointment from the High Priest of Severon.”“Human authority,” the dwarf said.“Yes, human authority,” Quellan said.  “Authority that your Council of Elders has already acknowledged.  Now, before either of us says something that we might… regret, allow me to present myself formally.  I am Quellan Emberlane, Priest Initiate of the Monastery of Crosspath, under Abbess Laurine.  To whom do I have the honor of addressing?”For a moment it looked as though the dwarf would not reply, but finally he said, “I am Akhenon Loremaster.”Quellan inclined his head in a gesture of respect.  “Loremaster.  May you learn something new this day.”The dwarf waved his hand in irritation.  “If you absolutely insist on disturbing my work, then we can at least have this conversation in the temple quarters.”  He waved Quellan toward the door, as if the half-orc was the one delaying them.Quellan kept his face carefully neutral.  Progress, of a sort, he thought.  “As you wish, Loremaster.” He preceded the dwarf into the interior chamber.  The fire gave it a homey feeling that compensated somewhat for the decidedly chilly welcome from its occupant.  “You operate the temple alone?” he asked.“I have some young aspirants who help keep the place orderly,” the dwarf said.  “I suppose you’ll be wanting something to drink.”“There’s no need to go to any trouble,” Quellan said.  “Whatever you normally offer to brothers of the faith will be fine.”He couldn’t help but smile as the dwarf went off into a side chamber, growling to himself.The room itself looked quite comfortable.  Quellan walked over and examined some of the bookcases.  Many of the volumes were familiar, though there were plenty whose spines were marked only with blockish dwarven runes instead of the softer letters of the Common language shared by the three dominant civilized races of the continent.  Quellan resisted the urge to examine some of the books—that would be rude—and continued his circuit of the chamber.His gaze lingered on a tapestry that hung on the wall opposite the hearth.  It wasn’t that interesting—there was no historical or literary scene depicted, just a simple geometric pattern—but somehow his attention was drawn to it.  He glanced at the far doorway, but all he heard was a soft clatter of cups as his host prepared refreshments.  Even that sound was a little bit angry, Quellan thought.He turned back to the tapestry, but before he could examine it a soft click drew his attention to another corner.  There was another device there, a sphere resting in a stone frame that he’d taken for a globe when he’d first come in.  But as he went over to it he saw that it was something else.  The sphere was covered in a complex web of markings, which were being augmented as he watched by a slender stylus that dangled from a thin metal arm attached to the surrounding frame.  The sphere appeared to float in a bowl made of glass or crystal that was filled with a viscous fluid.  The sphere was rotating very, very slowly in that liquid, which coated the part of it that stuck out above the rim of the bowl with a glistening sheen.  As Quellan leaned in close, fascinated, he saw that the stylus was leaving its marks not on the sphere itself, but on that thin layer of liquid.  The rotation of the sphere was causing the marks left by the stylus to create a spiral orbit, one that was slowly contracting so that the marks never quite overlapped. For the most part those lines were straight, though he noted small bumps that appeared at irregular intervals.“Don’t touch that!” Akhenon said from the doorway.  “It’s extremely delicate.”Quellan looked up to see the dwarf cleric standing there, holding a small tray that supported a couple of porcelain cups.“Is this a seismograph?” Quellan asked.The dwarf gave him a suspicious look before he nodded.  “Yes.  It senses disturbances in the underlying strata that surrounds Ironcrest.”“Do you get a lot of earthquakes here?”“Some.  Come away from that, you’ll disrupt the readings with your clopping around.”Quellan doubted that the thing was sensitive enough to detect footsteps—if that were the case, then every service in the temple would ruin the results—but he went over to the chairs by the fire where Akhenon took his drinks.  The dwarf thrust a cup into his hand.  Quellan smelled the steaming liquid then took a sip.  It was incredibly bitter, but with the dwarf’s eyes on him he was able to avoid betraying a reaction.Akhenon looked a little disappointed; he took a deep swallow from his own cup, ignoring the heat of the liquid.“I am impressed that you are able to find fresh lilisqua leaves in these mountains,” Quellan said.  He took another sip for politeness then put the cup down on the small table next to the chair.“You know your herb lore,” Akhenon said.“The Abbess at Crosspath encouraged her acolytes to pursue diverse fields of study.”The dwarf didn’t venture an opinion on that.  He settled back in his chair and fixed his hard stare on Quellan.  The half-orc, used to such examinations, just say quietly and prepared to wait him out.The Loremaster took another swallow of tea and put the cup down on the small table.  “So, I believe we were going to talk about why you and your companions are here.”“You know about the book,” Quellan said.  “The Elderlore Libram.”The dwarf priest paused at that, but only for a moment.  “Yes,” he admitted.  “We do not forget our history the way that humans do.”“If they had forgotten, we would not be here.”“I did invite you in here to engage in games of rhetoric.”“Very well.  Let us talk about Bredan Karras, and the key.”Akhenon said nothing, just studied the half-orc under his furrowed brows.  Quellan met that gaze with equanimity, and after a seemingly long interval that was perhaps ten seconds he started in surprise.“You have it,” Quellan said.  “You have it here.”The dwarf’s eyes flicked aside, just for an instant, but that was enough to draw Quellan’s attention.  He turned and looked across the room at the tapestry that had attracted his scrutiny earlier.  He rose from his chair and walked across the room to face it.Akhenon scowled but after a moment he too rose and joined the half-orc.  The dwarf reached up to the silver holy symbol around his neck and chanted a brief incantation.  The tapestry shimmered and disappeared, replaced by a steel door recessed deeply into the stone wall.  It was a disk maybe five feet across, and it evoked for Quellan a memory of a similarly-shaped barrier in the shrine in the southern Silverpeak Valley, not so long ago.“I am custodian of this Lorevault,” the dwarf said.  “Within it are the rarer and most important of our histories and other books of knowledge and power.”“You keep your histories locked up behind a steel door?” Quellan asked.“We preserve our traditions,” Akhenon shot back.  “And from what I have heard of you and your friends, you should know better than most that some kinds of knowledge are dangerous, and must be controlled.”“I did not mean to challenge your perspective,” Quellan said.  “And the key?”“As I said, I am custodian of this vault, but it is not mine to open in this instance.”“We are looking for partners in this,” Quellan said.  “We don’t want the bring the Libram back into the world to gain access to its power.  From all that I have heard, it might be better if it is kept sealed away for all time.  “But recent events have suggested that the power that this book represents is connected to what has been happening in the world.  The rise of Kavel Murgoth is one example.”“Murgoth was defeated,” Akhenon said.“Yes, though at a high cost,” Quellan said.  “But that is not the end of it.  Those that facilitated the goblinoid invasion are still out there.  And we have learned that there are other groups as well who may be connected to these mysterious outsiders… and I use that word with purpose.  I do not yet fully understand myself how it is all connected, but we cannot allow them to gain access to the power that the Libram represents.”“So, you wish to fight them by making the book more accessible.”“Whatever is happening, it has happened despite the seals that have kept the book protected—isolated—for all these centuries.  For all we know, the Libram may be our only means of fighting back.”Akhenon turned and walked back over this chair; after a moment the tapestry shimmered and reappeared.  “The god is with you,” he said.  “But it is not I who you need to convince.”“You could help.”“My seat on the Council is only advisory.  You and your friends will get a chance to make your case.  The first meeting today was just to take your mettle.”“As was this one?”Akhenon put the two cups back onto the tray.  “I need to get ready for the third-shift services.”Quellan offered a small bow.  “Thank you for the tea, elder.”</blockquote>

Verification