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Orbec frowns. "The sky-rock - who was responsibe? That clear enough?"
Tek looks at Arakan flintily and then rolls his eyes. "Aw, listen, I didn't enquire too closely - it pays to be discreet in my line. They were some freaky-looking toga-wearing elves, like nothing I've seen before. I kinda guessed they were probably defilers or something but, honestly, I've seen and done some bad stuff in my time and decided I wasn't in much of a place to judge other people. So I just rolled with it for the pay-day. I didn't ask them any questions and they didn't ask me - maybe I should've, the way things turned out, but I didn't.
"The guy I dealt with was called Gwillian or something and he seemed to report to some guy called Jeroac, but I never met him. I don't know the names of the rest.
"The whole thing was set up by a guy in Tyr - Bend. He normally fences for the Toothcutters, but this was a step up for him. He put us together with the toga-guys. I don't know how he knew them. We all met up as arranged outside South Ledopolus and rounded up prisoners for their big send-off." Tek rubs the back of his neck ruefully. "Guess I didn't realise quite how big. The rest you know. If I hadn't been in the ravines looking for you I'd've been in the middle when the rock came down."
Here's the cogent history; having just found it I'm trying to figure out what to tell the elf.
"I wasn't there, but.....weren't there some weird veiled elves with weird.....you know, floor symbols that called energy down from the sky?"
to the crazy elf/his lady,
"Again, I wasn't there or anything."
"Let's cut to the chase. What do you know about toga-wearing elf defilers?"
Irivis doesn't even bother to look at Arakan.
"I'm not happy with defiling. If you are, then this conversation if probably going to end very messily."
"Describe these weird elves," demands Sirril, suddenly interested again.
"I would, but I didn't see them."
"Did they look like them guys from the Lands.....Inside the Winds....or something like that? Is that the right term? I just....I just kill stuff, man."
Sirril fixed both eyes on Furio. "tell me what you know of the People Within the Wind?" he asks urgently.
"Sirril, I swear on my mother's eyes that I would tell you, but I'd just be making s*## up! I never laid eyes on them."
"They were performing a ritual using slaves as fuel. It looked like this."
Irivis sketches the ritual circles on the ground with her staff.
"Tek said he worked for somebody named Gwillian, who worked for Jerouac.
Some guy named Bend set them up.
I don't know any of these guys though; does this make sense to you?
That's all I know."
"They were performing a ritual using slaves as fuel. It looked like this."
Irivis sketches the ritual circles on the ground with her staff.
"You draw good. Real good."
"Sirril, do you know what the People All Up There In the Wind are? Are they elves even?"
Gart looked on, remaining quiet. Not only had he not seen them, but he was likely entirely out of his depth in this situation.
When the arcane symbol was drawn, he thought to himself for a moment. Runes and things held his interest on an almost instinctual level.
Realising this is going to take an age, Jareen plonks himself down onto a cushion.
"We know nothing of them Siril, except that the Orb of Defiling that we destroyed last night has links to them, and that someone is trying to utilise them. We are going to stop them, and came here for supplies. Magical supplies. We will also take any information you have. This may give you some idea of what we mean." with that jareen hands Orbec the correspondance from the Needle....
Letters addressed to Zavox: They are from a single correspondent, someone signing themselves Hedriann. Hedriann doesn't give much away about himself but he refers one or twice to "here in Tyr". They also refer obliquely to "the undertaking" without explaining what that might be, and both Zavox and Hedriann appear to be part of some wider group or organisation as they refer to themselves as "loyal sons". It would appear that Zavox was exploring under the Red Needle for something that might be useful to their schemes, a primal entity that they could harness and bind with defiling magic. There is also a curious reference to "friends from within the wind".
"That really is all we know. What do you know?"
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Orbec looks at the paper. "You can read? Are you a templar?" she asks suspiciously.
But Sirril murmurs in response to Furio, "The people within the wind remember when there was a time before the sorcerer-kings. When the land was not a burned desert and the sun was not dying. Are they elves? Perhaps, elves as they were before the time now, elves as they were before the burning.
"Most have not heard of the People Within the Wind. Most of those that have consider them only a legend. But they exist. There are tales of travellers in remote places encountering them, too many stories to be all discounted as lies, mirages or ravings. Fair of skin, pale of hair, beautiful. Powerful warriors and skilled magicians. But the defiling magics of the sorcerer-kings burnt their realm away, and it exists only in fragments, separate yet part of this land, reached though magic gates of air. The People Within the Wind protect these pieces from outsiders."
He seems to emerge from a reverie. "But I do not understand why they would engage in defiling magic. Their land is even more sensitive to defiling magic than our. Defilement caused most of it to disappear. It makes no sense." He sighs and lounges back on his cushions. "Perhaps these are more lies, or visions brought on by the desert heat." He drags on his hookah.
"Hmmm. That's beyond my pay grade. But maybe they're tired and they want to end it all? I don't know how magic works really."
"Of course I'm a Templar. I'm undercover digging out the secrets of hovels. Of course, our bandit at the Needle must also have been a Templar since he could read too. It sounds to me more like some plot to manipulate and enslave your People in the Wind than to work for or with them. Perhaps they may even need our protection from these defilers."
"Perhaps, perhaps..." Sirril's mind seems to wander as he takes another drag. "There is a place where one of their air gates is said to be. At a certain time..."
"When? Where?"
"West of Cromlin, when Ral is at its zenith and Gurthay setting with the Dawn Lady..." Sirril seems to be falling asleep.
Nature
Streetwise
"West of Cromlin, when Ral is at its zenith and Gurthay setting with the Dawn Lady..." Sirril seems to be falling asleep.
This is my "librarian" avatar for important stuff.
Arakan heaves a sigh, "So, let me guess, we need to start tracking the moon cycles to figure out when this is supposed to happen, possibly somewhere between days to even centuries from now? Then, when it does, we need to be in Cromlin, if we can get there in time or it still exists by the time this event happens? Sounds like this might determine whether we are still going to make it to Tyr or not."
"Cromlin, eh? I heard of the place. Trade town on the edge of the Ivort Triangle next to the Bay of Maray."
<zzztk> Th'Kal nods along with Arakan comments, understanding the names of the heavenly objects and agreeing with the ambiguousness of the statement. This is the first thing that has made sense to him since they got here. But he can't really help beyond that.
Sirril begins snoring. Orbec looks at the adventurers and shrugs. "That's the first time he's slept in days. I guess that's something." She digs under a pile of junk and hands Jareen a tattered folio. "Here, the belt and this should be your reward. I don't think there's anything else here for you."
"These will take some study, but thank you, and for the information. I hope we learned as much as you did."
"Unless this event is hours away, we've probably got time to find someone who knows more about the moons than us. I've heard of Cromlin. No idea how long it would take us to get there though."
"In Draj they worship moons. It is said their sorceror king is the son of two moons. That place is way too far away, but if we asked around for charts specifically from that place, it could help."
Irivis shrugs, completely out of ideas. And knowledge.
religion
nature
"Yeah; I heard about them moonies too."
"Gart is correct. Also, if we can find a druid or some such person, they may have knowledge of the movements of the heavens and what that portends."
"Not in the middle of a town then."
Streetwise
to see if I know where some groovy druids hang out in the city.
The party emerge from the elf ghetto and consider their next move.
"So, where do we go to find some druids?"
"Back in Tyr, I gots my connections. There was this....Man...with a Dog or whatever, that knows a mul wisewoman....I think she could help.
She's probably bald though, I reckon, so don't rag her. That's just cold."
"Back to home sweet home. It's amazing how little I've missed it."
"All roads lead to Tyr. We'd best be about it then."
Arakan scrunches up his face, "Now, hold on. I don't think that makes much sense to me. Wouldn't we be better heading towards Cromlin? I don't see a whole mess of druids hanging out in a big city-state like Tyr. They would be more likely to be found nearby a smaller place like Cromlin especially closer to the silt sea. Since we don't have a definitive timeline, we may not even be able to make it to Tyr, and then to Cromlin in time when we do find a druid. Also, since Cromlin is close to the Ivory Triangle, it'll put us that much closer to Draj if we need to go there for lack of a druid. Basically, not Tyr, quite the opposite direction."