"We have been chosen. The protections on this city are waning and, I believe, so will the protections on this room. Can we seal it again? Perhaps. Would the Boots have us to pick up their torches and carry on their fight?"
Phar shrugs, not knowing the answer,
"Perhaps this journal has answers has the answers we seek. One thing is sure: It is a matter of time before the surrounding evil finds this place and claims its contents for its vile designs."
Just some rp
PS: my search was 29 because my int is 1 point higher because of fox's cunning
Caerth listens to the others but his focus remains on his childhood hero. 'Why isn't he buried under the earth?Why is he like this?' The room seems to have once been a place to live, not a place to die. Yet, the druid lies in his bed with his arms crossed over his chest with his staff nestled under them across his chest.
"He should be one with the earth," Caerth says glumly. "Why would his companions leave him like this?"
Featar flies in and lands on Phar's shoulder as he glances over the books on the book shelf, reading the spines to see what kinds of information they might contain. He then moves to the journal and looks at the last page that was open, careful to note any magical auras.
Phar discovers that the books on the shelf seem to be primarily about nature and magic, although there are a few books about geography. Books on wild animals and exotic plants, dangerous creatures, magical theory, and the geography of both the Strandlands and the Chara Coast. The magic books are quite intriguing to him, but he doesn't think any of them are true spellbooks. It would take a lot of time to go through each one.
Looking at the journal, he can't read the writing in it. It is a complete mystery to him. It might require druidic knowledge that he lacks. The journal is in good shape and the druid's penmanship was quite good.
Phar doesn't detect any magical auras on any of the books. However, its tough to see anything besides the lingering effects of the powerful aura that one sealed and protected this room. The paragon elf also doesn't find any hidden compartments in the two shelves or in the table.
OOC:
The overwhelming aura will linger for 1d6 days. Did you want Phar to check for other auras in the room?
"I swear, I didn't touch anything yet!" Aureus exclaims with her hands raised. She looks back at Maur and then realizes, a bit embarrased, his words weren't just meant for her. "I mean, yes, your right." She looks to Caerth. "I think it really should be up to him."
Litrix stays outside more to keep an eye out than out of respect. This man was obviously powerful and the items here might be what they needed to defeat the great evil threatening his lands. He might even offer them to the group if he were still alive. As is, he feels no particular need to leave the items now that they unlocked the resting place. Especially if the preserving magic is about to expire.
He walks once more around the yard, checking around, looking for further clues. It seems conspicuous that the magic is failing just as the great threat is looming again, it might be a work of a great diviner, readying or even equipping future generations for the conflict.
Litrix doesn't find any clues that might explain why the magic might be failing now. The walls of the courtyard are unadorned while the doors leading to other parts of the old ruins show nature motifs carved or engraved on them. The stone dais also has a few carvings on it as well. They are likely dedicated to the old nature demigod, Bogphin, that Phar mentioned. The designs are quite old.
Litrix has heard of Bogphin, but he also knows that demigod died centuries ago and that his cult didn't last very long after his death. Knowledge about Bogphin is quite a rare thing in the Strandlands. Litrix was taught a lot in his youth, however, and he's always had a strong connection to religious teachings. Bogphin wasn't one of the North Gods. He was an outsider, or more specifically an Interloper. Such were those that didn't choose a side between the North Gods and the Sword Gods. Litrix doesn't know anything about Bogphin's heritage.
The most intriguing thing in the courtyard remains the two iron doors. The doors have embedded themselves into the stone walls surrounding the entrance to The Hermit's resting place. It is almost as if parts of the stone walls ceased to exist and the two iron doors replaced the stonework. The inside of the doors are designed in a similar fashion to the outside. However, the sigils and symbols of the Boots are only on the left door. The right door is covered in archaic proto-Anorian writing. Litrix can't interpret it on his own. It is too different to Harqualian common.
The old well, anvil & firepit, and other old furniture and items scattered around the courtyard seem quite mundane to him. It feels to him that courtyard might have been unfinished. It's hard to tell with all damage to the walls, especially near the scorpion's lair. The stone doors closest to the rubble scattered by The Hermit's old vermin companion is intriguing to him. The designs have less to do with nature and more with defense, possibly weaponry. Litrix isn't sure. The stone doors are still locked.
Quinn raises his hand to the mural over the capital of his homeland, fingers outstretched, "Home." He says softly. In His mind, he pictures buildings, people, coliseum battles . . . For the benefit of Cruel Justice.
"The Great Coliseum is right there," he says, pointing to the exact spot on the map near the depiction of the City of Sulinon. The map shows all the way from his home in the south to The Shining City of Tovonnen in the north. All of the Chara Coast.
Aureus moves to stand by Quinn and looks up at the mural. She is amazing to see Quinn's homeland drawn out in such a way. She digs into her pack and pulls out her own maps. She compares the more modern map she has with that of the mural on the ceiling.
"This is amazing!" She says. "There are places on this map that aren't on mine. Is this still accurate?"
"Yes, most of it," Quinn replies. He notes to his friend the locations on the map that he is certain about. "That is Sulinon, my home." He points to the southernmost coastal city. "North of it is Sange, which is also known as the City of Bangles. This is Favir, which is called The Littorial City. And, that is Hellekan, City of the Sun."
Aureus points the northernmost city. "And this one?"
"That is Tovonnen, The Shining City. It is not one the Chara Cities." He muses. "Well, that is what I was taught. It might have been different ages ago." He notes the other, smaller towns. "All of these towns still exist, but there are many more now. The Chara Coast used to be a very wild place. Untamed. Well, much of it still is wild, especially closer to the Patron Mountains." He points to the town on the coast south of Sulinon. "That is Berlisit. It is much larger now. It's an important port."
Aureus and Quinn continue to talk about the mural and the hutakaan sits on the floor and updates her own map with the gladiator-knight's help. Maur is happy to see she is distracted from the treasures in the tomb.
"We have been chosen. The protections on this city are waning and, I believe, so will the protections on this room. Can we seal it again? Perhaps. Would the Boots have us to pick up their torches and carry on their fight?"
Phar shrugs, not knowing the answer,
"Perhaps this journal has answers has the answers we seek. One thing is sure: It is a matter of time before the surrounding evil finds this place and claims its contents for its vile designs."
"We must protect this place," Quinn insists. He nods to Phar. He looks back at Maur. "We will be respectful of Caerth's wishes, but this is just as important to me, as well."
"And there might be something here that will help us against Eike," Aureus adds. She looks at Phar. "Is there any of those old books that talk about this desert? What is it called again?"
"The Grave Shores," Caerth mumbles. Those words make even more sense, now, to the half-orc druid. Aeron warned him not to enter the desert unless it was absolutely necessary. 'Does he know about this place? How could he not?'
Phar looks through the titles of the books and finds several specific to the southern half of the Strandlands and one, in particular, about the Wasting Shores. That book has an entire section detailing the Grave Shores. It isn't extensive, but there is a lot of information. It is written in a script that is closer to true Anorian.
OOC:@TaranTheWanderer, I will post more details later on the OOC thread.
Caerth listens to the others but his focus remains on his childhood hero. 'Why isn't he buried under the earth?Why is he like this?' The room seems to have once been a place to live, not a place to die. Yet, the druid lies in his bed with his arms crossed over his chest with his staff nestled under them across his chest.
"He should be one with the earth," Caerth says glumly. "Why would his companions leave him like this?"
Quinn looks at Caerth. His friend is conflicted like he is conflicted.
"Perhaps his allies died before they could give this Stratesus the burial he would have wanted." Cruel Justice finally speaks aloud and being silent to all but Quinn since the argument with Aries. "There could be some reason. They could have died in the war or been killed while adventuring. Those were very dangerous times."
"Finally, he speaks," Aureus notes happily. "Glad to have you back, CJ."
"This was too important for me to stay silent, Lady Aureus," the intelligent adamantine scimitar replies. He speaks directly to Maur next. "Champion, you are right to be wary. There could be traps here or other hidden dangers. And, yes, you must all be respectful of the dead. It is important. But if The Hermit should have been buried, then you must find out why he wasn't."
"Oh, I forgot to look for traps! No one move!" Aureus puts away her maps and begins a very intensive search of the room. She is still too excited to be able to focus properly. She stops and sighs. "It's no use. I can't find anything this way." She moves, carefully, back towards the open doorway and stands next to Maur. "Phar, did you find anything suspicious?
Quinn remains in the centre of the room. He just won't leave without studying the mural in more detail.
Litrix returns from his investigation of the yard. "Maybe he wasn't buried because he needs or wants to be questioned by speak with the dead. I'm sure Caerth or Maur can prepare one if we remain here for a day. And it will give us time to peruse the books, identify items and think of the questions we wanna ask."
Once Aureus calms her nerves, she takes a deep breath and goes through the room more carefully to check the floor and walls in details. More than likely the room itself isn't trapped. They would have set off such a trap by now. She just rechecks for her peace of mind. Still, she'll want to check the chests once Caerth assures her he is fine with her trying to get them open. She takes a long time, but doesn't go through the room over and over again..
"You are still worrying too much," Qi says to her. "You would have found something by now."
Aureus sighs. "But only if it was something simple. If there is something more complex..."
"It would have gone off by now," Qi tries to assure her.
Aureus settles herself in between Quinn, Maur and Caerth. She looks at Maur. "I think it is safe. I still need to check the chests and the other furniture and these two barrels and that crate over there." she looks back towards Phar. "We probably don't have to worry about the bookshelves. Phar looked them over... and the smaller table as well."
"There is a very beautiful heavy mace on the other table. It is made out of mithral." She notes a look on Maur's face. "No, no! I didn't touch it. I just looked at it."
"Stratesus would not have used a metal weapon," Caerth says as he places the blanket back over The Hermit.
"Exactly!" Aureus agrees. "I don't think this place was supposed to be his tomb. Yes, that's what it has become but I don't think the Boots meant for him to end up like this... lying dead in his own bed."
Caerth sits down on the bed and looks at the rest of the room. It seems too ornate. Maybe Stratesus wasn't as great a druid as the half-orc was lead to believe... or this room wasn't just for him, alone. Could Stratesus have had a wife? Maybe The Hermit had found companionship with Avital... or one of the other Boots? Aeron had not told him any 'Boots stories' about such things. But the old man didn't shelter Caerth from the idea of relationships. That was part of nature, as well.
The half-orc druid runs his hand over the side table next to the bed. It is well crafted... not weathered like the bed. He picks up the pewter bowl and smells the tiny bit of water in it. It's not rancid, but he still wouldn't want to drink it. He puts the bowl down and runs his hands over the table's drawer. He is not surprised to find it locked.
"Aureus, can you get this open for me?"
She looks at her friend and nods. She moves to the table an kneels down. She checks for traps, again. She nearly knocks over the table and the water spills out of the bowl. She catches the bowl before it falls onto the floor.
"Sorry," she says with a sigh. "I'm still nervous."
"Calm, my dear," Qi encourages her. "Try again."
"There's no need," Aureus says. "If it had been trapped, it would have gone off in my face. Now, let's try this lock."
Aureus tries to pick the lock and fails. She growls, not at the table, but at herself. "I will not become useless!" She tries again, but doesn't concern herself with 'if the table might be trapped'. She attacks the lock with all her skill and the drawer finally opens.
She sighs contented. She cracks opens the drawer and leave the content to Caerth.
"I need to clear my head," she leaves the room, brushing by Maur. She goes to the courtyard's table and sits down on the closest bench. She continues to growl at herself and seems to be arguing with Qi, telepathically. Finally, she takes the adamantine baton off her belt and places it away from her on the other side of the table.
"Enough!"
Caerth pulls the drawer open as far as it will go and looks inside. There are only two things inside: An old wand that looks like it has been scorched in a fight and a rolled up scroll that is sealed with a wax stamp. The stamp is the symbol of the Boots that was on the door. The scroll is simple parchment. It doesn't look magical. Caerth doesn't care... he opens it anyway. The scroll turns out to be some sort of letter. It is written in the same proto-Anorian language that was on the door. Caerth cannot read it.
"Maybe he wasn't buried because he needs or wants to be questioned by speak with the dead. I'm sure Caerth or Maur can prepare one if we remain here for a day. And it will give us time to peruse the books, identify items and think of the questions we wanna ask."
It has been nearly six months since I first discovered out brother, Stratesus, dead here in the Temple of the Boot. Ibelieve he was tending to the plants in the courtyard when the Great Mother called out to him. I sought his soul inthe beyond, but he had found solace in the Agrarian Fields. Shouzas is despondent with grief and tends to wander away from the temple more often. I sense the beastwill lose much of its intelligence as the years past. I would put the awakened scorpion out of his misery if not for the fact that Stratesus loved him so much. It is a shame that the beast is now immortal and can only die by violence.
I have sealed our brother, your brother, away in this room to protect his body and his legacy (and our own). The Grave Shores are as dangerous as when we first ventured into them all those years ago. No matter how many times Stratesus and I cleanse the Wicked Hill and its shrine, evil continues to be drawn to it. It is so unnatural. Yet, the risks of razing the shrine are still the same. It may do more harm than good.
I constructed the iron doors and have enchanted them with enough power to seal the Chamber of theBoot. I’ve poured all of my High Magic into it. The Great Seal should last centuries and protect it and the rest of the older sections of Bogphin’s temple. It seems, it was never meant to be to rebuild the temple to honour the Great Mother. I know that was Stratesus and yours’ plan. The doors will open for you, or for your bloodline, but,regardless, the doors will be very hard to open without knowing your true name or the legacy of the Boots. Hopefully, you are still alive and will return to these lands and unseal the doors yourself. If you are reading this letter, then it was probably easy enough for you.
My plan is to return after the fighting ends in the westernlands and either bury your brother with the others or find someplace even more isolated. While the ogres areretreating in the much of the east, especially in the Shorelands to the north, their dark and twisted scions continueto be a sinister threat in the west.
Nothon and Kleopatra have asked me to help try to save the city-state of Onanetta. I don’t know if we will survive.The ogre scion named Xaezar Marshscreamer has been relentless, and I fear that all of the lands north ofthe Cadra Forest will fall to his hordes. If you are reading this letter and have not become numb to war, then seek me out in either Prachtenstad or Sumdall before the end of the year. If you have not arrived by then, I have gone north to Onanetta. Normally, I would travel using High Magic, but it takes a toil, and I must save myself for thefight against The Marshscreamer.
I hope to see you again my friend.
Arixon
The 14th of Nesus, 493 N.C.
Afterthought... perhaps you can help Shouzas find solace. I was also unable to do so for Mohau after Avital died almost two decades ago. Her loss was such a tragedy for the Minstrel Maiden... and for myself, as well.I don’t know if you ever knew how much I cared for Avital. I never told her. Stratesus knew, so maybe he old you. It is becoming harder to return here year after year. I will try, one last time. Or maybe I will join her inthe beyond in the battles to come.
"So, Caerth, what happened to Arixon? He obviously never returned...." Litrix starts about the letter "And does anyone know what razing will do more harm than good means? How will it be bad?"
Caerth's malaise lifts. He looks at Phar with a slight smile and a nod. He hands the letter over to the paragon elf as he crosses the room to look at the journal. He is amazed. It is written in a form of Druidic that he's never seen before. The language of the druids is rarely written down in books. Most of the time, it is just used to mark important locations in the wild. A carved symbol pointing to an important grove of trees or a prayer to the earth scratched into a rock.
Stratesus was indeed unique among druids! Caerth can understand why Aeron had told him stories about the Fellowship of the Boots. He picks up the journal, once Phar assures him it is safe to do so, and begins to read it. He flips through the the pages. He shakes his head in disbelief. This is the true history of the druid he grew up admiring. He is on the verge of tears.
His emotions are so strong that Screech is drawn to the open doorway. He flies by Angus, Litrix, and Maur and lands on the silk rug. The owl hops up onto the bench and hoots several times at the half-orc druid. Caerth moves to the bench and sits down with the journal in his lap. Screech nestles up next to him and hoots again. Caerth pats the owl on the head to reassure the bird. Screech stays next to the druid.
OOC: I will post a summary of the journal in the OOC thread (much, much later). It would be way too long to add it here.
Litrix returns from his investigation of the yard. "Maybe he wasn't buried because he needs or wants to be questioned by speak with the dead. I'm sure Caerth or Maur can prepare one if we remain here for a day. And it will give us time to peruse the books, identify items and think of the questions we wanna ask."
OOC: Initially, yes. but after Caerth wildshaped and got a 'bird's-eye view', he has a hunch in which direction that Eike went and where he is, or was last.
It has been nearly six months since I first discovered out brother, Stratesus, dead here in the Temple of the Boot. I believe he was tending to the plants in the courtyard when the Great Mother called out to him. I sought his soul in the beyond, but he had found solace in the Agrarian Fields. Shouzas is despondent with grief and tends to wander away from the temple more often. I sense the beast will lose much of its intelligence as the years past. I would put the awakened scorpion out of his misery if not for the fact that Stratesus loved him so much. It is a shame that the beast is now immortal and can only die by violence.
I have sealed our brother, your brother, away in this room to protect his body and his legacy (and our own). The Grave Shores are as dangerous as when we first ventured into them all those years ago. No matter how many times Stratesus and I cleanse the Wicked Hill and its shrine, evil continues to be drawn to it. It is so unnatural. Yet, the risks of razing the shrine are still the same. It may do more harm than good.
I constructed the iron doors and have enchanted them with enough power to seal the Chamber of theBoot. I’ve poured all of my High Magic into it. The Great Seal should last centuries and protect it and the rest of the older sections of Bogphin’s temple. It seems, it was never meant to be to rebuild the temple to honour the Great Mother. I know that was Stratesus and yours’ plan. The doors will open for you, or for your bloodline, but, regardless, the doors will be very hard to open without knowing your true name or the legacy of the Boots. Hopefully, you are still alive and will return to these lands and unseal the doors yourself. If you are reading this letter, then it was probably easy enough for you.
My plan is to return after the fighting ends in the westernlands and either bury your brother with the others or find someplace even more isolated. While the ogres are retreating in the much of the east, especially in the Shorelands to the north, their dark and twisted scions continue to be a sinister threat in the west.
Nothon and Kleopatra have asked me to help try to save the city-state of Onanetta. I don’t know if we will survive. The ogre scion named Xaezar Marshscreamer has been relentless, and I fear that all of the lands north of the Cadra Forest will fall to his hordes. If you are reading this letter and have not become numb to war, then seek me out in either Prachtenstad or Sumdall before the end of the year. If you have not arrived by then, I have gone north to Onanetta. Normally, I would travel using High Magic, but it takes a toil, and I must save myself for the fight against The Marshscreamer.
I hope to see you again my friend.
Arixon
The 14th of Nesus, 493 N.C.
Afterthought... perhaps you can help Shouzas find solace. I was also unable to do so for Mohau after Avital died almost two decades ago. Her loss was such a tragedy for the Minstrel Maiden... and for myself, as well. I don’t know if you ever knew how much I cared for Avital. I never told her. Stratesus knew, so maybe he old you. It is becoming harder to return here year after year. I will try, one last time. Or maybe I will join her in the beyond in the battles to come.
As Phar begins to read the letter out loud, everyone falls silent. Initially, Aureus listens from outside, but she is soon drawn back into the room. She sits on the other side of the bench next to Caerth and Screech.
When Phar finishes, she says. "That's a wonderful piece of history."
"The whole room is a piece of history," Quinn adds. He shakes his head So familiar. Why? "I'm not a scholar, but I suspect there would be some in my homeland who give anything to be here right now."
"You must make sure that what is here isn't lost... or abused," Qi says.
Quinn nods. He knows Cruel Justice agrees with his 'mate' even though the adamantine scimitar remains silent at that moment.
Caerth shakes his head. The journal has nothing in it after The Hermit's last entry. There is nothing written in it by Arixon or anyone else, and Aeron's stories were about the adventures of the Boots. He didn't tell Caerth about how their lives ended, except Grigron. He died a true hero. Aeron probably didn't know how the other's died. Caerth is now certain that Aeron never knew about this place. If he had, Aeron would have found a way inside this room. And, his stories would have been a lot more detailed... and closer to the truth.
The journal is a treasure! Not just to Caerth, but to all the druid circles of the Strandlands. Those circles will want it. Desperately. Stratesus was such an important druidic legend... no, he's not a legend anymore. He's a true historic hero. Caerth worries that the circles will fight over the journal... and it won't be just a fight with words. Blood could, no, will be spilled if the circles learn of the journal.
He looks at Litrix. "I don't know what happened to Arixion. Aeron's stories never mentioned how the wizard died."
"If he died," Qi suggests. "Wizards tend to defy death."
"Arixon was a good soul," Caerth insists. "He would not have become a lich!"
"I wasn't suggesting lichdom," the sentient baton replies. "There are other ways to defy death. The letter did say that Shouzas is immortal. Arixon might have become immortal himself."
"It didn't sound like he wanted to live much longer," Quinn counters.
Caerth flips to the centre of the journal. Folded in the book is a chart showing all the connections of the Boots. Connections by how long they knew each other, their lives and deaths, some of their loves and hates, and... their relatives. Only a handful of them were related by blood. But the two key ones were Stratesus and Dustchaser.
The two men were brothers. While they had different mothers, they had the same father. His name was Trym Sauzac, and he was the patron of the Boots. Caerth shakes his head again. Aeron either didn't know the man's name or didn't mention it to Caerth as part of his Boots' stories. Stratesus, it seems, didn't share his father's name, but Dustchaser did have a family name. His name was Alekos Sauzac.
"Speak his true name," Caerth mumbles. "Alekos Sauzac."
Aureus looks at Caerth. "Txaran?"
Caerth nods.
"What was that name?" Quinn stares at Caerth in shock.
"Alekos Sauzac," Aureus mouths the words, as Caerth is lost in the journal. She has trouble with the pronunciation.
"It... it can... not be!" Quinn takes several steps back. His knees begin to shake.
"You know who Txaran was?" Aureus asks... a bit concerned for Quinn. "Are you all right? What is it?"
Quinn knew. His mother made sure her son knew. Alekos Sauzac. Yes, Quinn had been very young when she told him, and after her tragic death, he had little left of her legacy. 'But, it couldn't be him,' he thinks.
"You are the centre," Cruel Justice says aloud.
"Stop saying that! It... can't be him! It just can't!"
"What are you talking about!?" Caerth ask, a bit confused.
"Ask him," Cruel Justice insists.
"Does it say anything else, about this Alekos?" Quinn can barely get the words out as he looks up at the mural.
"He was Dustchaser. This Txaran of the Blackthorn. He was Stratesus' half brother," Cearth says. Concerned. "There father was a man named..."
"Trym?"
"Yes, how do you..?"
"Alekos... Trym... they were my ancestors. My mother's ancestors. Alekos Sauzac was her four-times great grandfather. He was better known as Aizo Viteri. Wait..." Quinn's eyes go wide. "That why the name in the riddle seemed... familiar. My mother, she wasn't able to raise me, but she came to me in those early years in the pits, before she died, before she took her life, and told me about the Blackthorn, my ancestor. He was said to be a great warrior. A ranger and a mercenary. A hero. She never called him Txaran, just 'The Blackthorn' or Aizo, or Alekos."
"WHAT!?" Aureus is excited again. She stands up, her tail swishing.
"So... you are Dustchaser and Stratesus' kin... through their father," Cruel Justice says calmly.
Caerth stares at Quinn... in shock. The gladiator-knight's legs give out on him and he is soon sitting on the floor... looking up at the mural.
" 'The doors will open for you or your bloodline.; "
Phar quotes the line from the letter. He's placed the paper on the table and seems slightly distracted, wandering the room as he's scanning, looking at the various objects and weapons that are lying about. Despite this, he doesn't miss anything of the conversation that's going on around him.
Phar will focus on other auras in the room while this conversation is happening.
