Damian awakens from a restful sleep. The journey has taken a toll on him, but his years in the service of the Silver Flame have taught him to value a good night's sleep whenever possible, because a soldier does not know when the next one may come. He stretches and quickly rises, immediately beginning drills with his sword. A day off the march is no time for relaxation. Simply wearing cloth pants and neither shirt nor armor, he practices in the room with his sword. This is his personal drill, not one for others to watch. He parries blows of imaginary foes, working on the cadence and rhythym of battle. His mind flashes back to the battle with Villicent and his bladework, vowing that each strike must hit. By the time he finishes, he is covered in a sheen of sweat. Breathing heavily, he sheathes the sword and says a prayer to his gods.
After washing, he seeks out his armor and surcoat. He is surprised to find them polished and cleaned, respectively. Brook must have worked through the night to make sure that he had them ready. He smiles, knowing that his squire did not have to do that. He had planned to do it himself, as he always had done before taking Brook on as a squire. He picks up a note atop his clothing after dressing, taking the time to read it. 'Min suggests a standard for the Skyknights. He is right, and I should have thought of it myself. I have the perfect idea, though.'
He calls Brook into the room. The boy arrives quickly despite having just awoken. "Brook, thank you for cleaning my armor and clothing. I appreciate all the hard work you've done for me. I know that this quest has not been easy at this time, and I draw upon your strength and courage to bolster my own." He places an affectionate hand on the boy's shoulder and smiles at him. "I have a task to ask of you: please find the other Skyknights and gather them for a meeting in the hall that we first met at. Min and Belsarious will remember, but you will have to explain to the others. I wish to speak to them in an hour about where we shall go from here. As you complete this task, please deliver this letter to Captain Harrix or his quartermaster." He hands Brook a sealed letter and sends him on his way.
In addition, please seek out a griffon for my squire. He is a talented rider and needs to begin to learn how to control an aerial mount of his own. A young griffon would be best, though any flying beast that the city can spare would be appreciated.
Thank you,
Sir Damian Lamorak of the Skyknights.
@Aylaeth: You are hard at work in the stern, but very accommodating and inspiring facilities in the library when your page comes up to your table and coughs politely.
"My lady, I have brought him as you asked; Brother Hurin." There is a thin and querulous-looking old man standing by your page, his form stooped and his eyes milky. His appearance is astonishing to you, for you know that the Q'adin monks are famous for their martial prowess and physical fitness. This poor fellow looks more like an aged Stormfare academic who's never set foot outside than a hale and hearty member of an Order!
It is then that you notice strange and unseemly tattoos on his feet and hands that look like they run up his limbs. The tattoos are done in a black ink that seems to actively -- greedily -- absorb light and wind and twist in a hungry way. They remind you somewhat of some of the markings on your Aellar friends.
@Min: All is going well until you mention the Lionhearts. Your page, who assisted with finding the map room (which is spectacular!) and getting you some fresh coffee, suddenly balks. "Ummm...what's that, My Lord? I'm not sure I heard you right. We're learning about...who?"
Min chuckles, suddenly feeling his age. "The Lionheart Cavaliers, a supposedly long gone order. I'm looking for anything that explains there command structure and old strongholds, hopefully we find a map with locations on it." Then Min started to notice the pages hesitation. "Is there something I need to know? Please speak your mind, I would rather know then not."
As Alain brings in the old monk and introduces him Aylaeth rises from her chair and bows in recognition and respect to the seemingly ancient man. Seeing his condition a pang of guilt shoots through her, knowing now that she should have gone to him instead. Still, he was here now and the information he might have could be vital.
Putting aside her personal feelings she pulls out a chair for him, gestures to it, and says "Honoured sir, I am Aylaeth Brely'an, Scholar and newest member of the Skyknights. Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me, you do me much honour by your presence. Please, sit, and be comfortable. May we offer you some refreshment, or anything to eat?" She then sits after him and asks that Alain bring anything the elder may require.
Not wasting any time, she get into her professional mode and explains the reason he is here "Brother Hurin, are you familiar with 'The Abominations of Mariansu'? If not, in brief they are a set of 12 ancient and ultimately evil artifacts, any one of which could cause untold death and destruction, or even the end of our entire world and more. We Skyknights have been tasked by Captain Merrit and the great Na-Calanon to find them all and see to their elimination. The reason I have asked to speak with you is that it has come to my attention that you may, whether you know it or not, have information on one of these abominations. Honoured sir, what can you tell me of a magical black inkpot?" and at this last, she glances significantly at his disturbing and writhing tattoos.
@Min: Your page is looking at the ground, the ceiling, anywhere but your steely gaze. "...uhhhh...I'm....errrr...we, uh..."
"What young Ioseph is trying to say is we do not speak of the Lionhearts here in the Shining City if we can at all help it, and we usually can." An authoritative voice booms from behind your page and you angle your head to see a very stern-looking older man approach the two of you. His hair is all silver and he appears to be well into his 50s. He is caparisoned as a very high-level cleric; his vestments are extremely simple, but the piping and rank insignia on his sleeve indicate his station. "Sir Dragonrider, I know of your quest and hold you and yours in all duly earned esteem, so please do not press me on this; do not bring up the Lionhearts again. Ever. Anywhere. If you know what's good for you. Seek not to know their fate, nor to find their surviving members. Let them fall into obscurity and be forgotten."
This cleric does not flinch at all as his cold blue eyes bore into yours. He is not a big man -- indeed you would tower over him were you to stand up -- but his presence is enormous. Poor Ioseph is wide-eyed with terror.
Although I did miss that you'd already mentioned his name.
@Aylaeth: Brother Hurin's craggy forehead wrinkles as he scowls at you. "You think I'm, what, a hundred years old, don't you? Well I'm not. Nowhere near. It's the damned dragonflight that did this to me. I used to be a giant among men. Warbanians near quaked at my martial prowess. Now I am reduced to this. I am a monk of the Q'adin! A servant of Gorum! And I AM REDUCED TO THIS!" He pounds his fist feebly on the table. "So don't call me 'honoured sir'. If I were myself I'd hammer you flat for that. Just 'Brother Hurin' will do, thank you very much." The monk collects himself for a moment. "I don't know anything about a damn magical inkpot. All I know is that I was running the Hold of Nondanas. The Three had just left, I helped them on their way with horses and information. Books from the library. The assassin Vrakshnah was after them. I held that bastard off for near a day, then the Dragonflight came. I realized then what had happened; The Three weren't even really the main target. Vrakshnah was a decoy to keep me busy while Chrikh' Gon Kraikuul swept down out of the north, killing and burning as he went. They took me."
The older man pauses, looking haunted. "They bound me, and took me north. They were former monks, all undead now, all animated and enhanced by nega-ki ale, and I could not fight them all off. After weeks of travel, I was ensconced in a strange fey prison. There, they applied...something to my body. Some liquid. It burned and froze at the same time and left these...marks. And whatever they suggested to me...I had to do...whatever...they made me do...such...ah gods...ah gods I'm so sorry..." His head in his hands, the monk begins crying, his body shaking with terrible, wracking sobs of immense grief.
Taken aback both emotionally and physically by the monk's brief, violent outburst, Aylaeth's offence quickly turns to sympathy. 'Dear Abadar! Does the extent of their Evil never end?? Does it know no limits! Will we ever stop coming upon the trails of broken homes and people, crushed beneath the heel of the damnable Black Dragon Flight's insidious Evil?'
As both fury, sympathy, righteous anger and helplessness roil through her the magus sits quietly as she listens to brother Hurin's tale. Being a scholar and soldier before anything else, comforting others is not a significant skill she possess, yet she does her best, placing gentle hands on his shoulders as she says "Brother Hurin, please forgive my ignorant presumption. I beg you though, do not judge yourself so harshly. Abadar knows the truth of all men's hearts, and actions that were forced upon you, against your will, shall not be balanced against you in the final measuring. I have no doubt you have led an exemplary life, and have committed brave and noble acts beyond number. If you would strike back at the forces of evil which have brought you to your present state, then put aside your anguish and guilt and stand strong as the warrior you have always been and always will be. Anything and everything you can think of, any smallest bit of information which might help us defeat them, shall be another blow struck by you against them. They may have sapped your vigour, but they can never sap your valour...if you do not let them." After which she sits back somewhat, yet while still remaining in physical contact with him.
While she speaks, little Ada'an flutters over and gently touches the distraught man, lending the damaged monk some of his celestial health and glory.
Walks the halls to re-join the others, having spent some time in quiet meditation.
Min rose then and placed a comforting hand on Ioseph's shoulder as he spoke to the young page quietly. "Calm yourself young one, go and assist lady Aylaeth while I speak with the Lord Bishop."
When the boy had gone Min fixed the cleric with his steely gaze and a smile, he wasn't one to be cowed by men with authority but he would still show respect. Proffering his hand Min introduces himself. "Forgive me as I am not familiar with the ranks of Izmir. As much as I appreciate the titles. I am not a Knight, nor a Lord, just Min Rámalóce, Lord Bishop. I sadly cannot give in to your demand, I will not use the library of Izmir nor speak of them again within your walls out of respect for you and yours. But I cannot be dissuaded until I find who I am looking for, there are those who rely on us being successful."
He pulls out his burnt map and shows the elder cleric the symbol burnt into its center. "I know you to be a wise man Lord Bishop and I came also to seek out what, if anything, lies within this region on your maps, dating as far back as I must to ascertain the truth. That is, if there is any to be had..."
@Min:
"Forgive me as I am not familiar with the ranks of Izmir. As much as I appreciate the titles. I am not a Knight, nor a Lord, just Min Rámalóce, Lord Bishop. I sadly cannot give in to your demand, I will not use the library of Izmir nor speak of them again within your walls out of respect for you and yours. But I cannot be dissuaded until I find who I am looking for, there are those who rely on us being successful."
The bishop takes your hand. His handshake is firm and strong. "I understand, Skyknight. And may your God have mercy on your soul, if God you follow." It's obvious he doesn't mean this last as an insult, he just honestly doesn't know what god -- if any -- you worship. Indeed, he appears quite genuinely concerned for the state of your soul.
He pulls out his burnt map and shows the elder cleric the symbol burnt into its center. "I know you to be a wise man Lord Bishop and I came also to seek out what, if anything, lies within this region on your maps, dating as far back as I must to ascertain the truth. That is, if there is any to be had..."
The cleric makes the symbol of the Sword and Shield of the Inheritor over his chest and utters a quick prayer in celestial. "By the Lady's shining brow, Skyknight, where in all creation did you find this." The man looks honestly shaken, but resolute, as if he had just seen a great horror that he is determined to best. He motions for a pair of clerics working behind the circulation desk to come over. "Kenneth! Matthew! Come. Immediately. We may have need of you. Bring holy water and the Rites of Ph'al Fennereth. NOW!" The two younger men scramble to carry out his orders. He looks back at you, a bit more composed. "I ask you again, sir; where did you come across this?"
@Aylaeth: Much of what the monk speaks is meaningless to you, but you recognize that he is speaking of current events, so it is quite likely he is just talking about things that have transpired in his home, the news of which is yet to reach the west. The Hold of Nondanas, you know, is a famous Q'adin stronghold on the bottom edge of the northern half of what used to be Rassnynyankh. It lies in a very magical place, roughly in the center of the Land, bordered on the south by the Old Woods of Graczne, and ringed by small towns: Baksan to the west, Prokhladnyy to the north, and Mayskly to the east. If one is traveling north-to-south, it is also a last bastion of goodness and knowledge before the horror that is the Despair of Vestrille, home to the Archmage Firliadeth, Countess de Vestrille.
You have no idea what the name Vrakshnah means, nor Chrikh' Gon Kraikuul, though you know both names are Orcish in origin.
Min eyes the oncoming clerics briefly as he tries to remain relaxed and answers the Lord Bishop. He set the map gently on the table he had been sitting at and swept his arms wide in a non-aggressive manner. "I do not fear for my soul Lord Bishop, I fear for those who cannot protect themselves from evil." He is quiet for a moment before continuing. "I was up late last night, updating my maps when something invaded the bond between my companion and I. When we regained control of the Bond that symbol was burned into my map. I don't take threats like that lightly and sought to find out what I could..."
He thinks for a few moments before looking at the Lord Bishop. "So what happens next?"
Knowledge(history):
Kowledge(religion):
Considering what she may know of 'The Three' he has mentioned, Aylaeth waits until the desoate monk responds to her words before she asks her next question.
@Belsarious: As you are calmly walking the great halls of the center of Izmir, Sir Damian's young squire, Brook, finds you. "Lord Belsarious! Sir Damian has requested we all meet in the Hall of the Inheritor in the Cathedral of the West, in one hour. I must find the others, but I know you remember the way."
@Aylaeth: Before Brother Hurin can speak again, a young boy you recognize as Min's page comes trotting up to you, breaking your concentration. "Hello, my Lady. Lord Min said I should help you for a bit while he, er, "speaks" with Bishop Janssen." After he says this, you notice raised voices coming from the map room, and while you don't hear Min, you do recognize the stern voice of Bishop Janssen. Janssen is a very holy man, and fair, but he can be rather inflexible, in your opinion. While you have never clashed with him in your past visits, neither have you exactly relished having to deal with the fellow.
@Min: The cleric's eyes widen as you tell of what happened last night. He closes his eyes and takes a very deep breath. When he speaks his voice is utterly, frighteningly calm. It is the voice of a battle surgeon telling you he must amputate, or a general informing you your position is about to be overrun. "Where, Skyknight, is your riding companion now? Your dragon?"
Belsarious throws his head back and cackles like a madman for 30 seconds finally he stops stares straight at the lad.....
Loudly
"Of course! I shall wear my finest attire!"
softly
"It is my only attire though....."
DM
thought I would see what the lad reports back to sir D. ;)
@Lin: The Avenue of the Gods is a glorious place; it is a very wide street lined with tiny libraries, cafes, and beautiful cathedrals dedicated to, and in the style of, all gods not associated with evil or evil deeds; Shelyn, Abadar, Erastil, Sarenrae, Torag, and the others. As you strolled along, all people you encountered were polite to the point of being deferential and you were able to take in some magnificent architecture.
Now you find yourself at the Dragons' Quarters, which are rather easy to find as they are high up and the best eyrie in the city. Only one dragon is there; the sad and scarred copper dragon from last night, who just lost his rider. He tells you his name is Na-Verinath, and he hails from the warm hills east of your homeland in Tuatha, and south of Hallas.
Min fixes all three priests with his steely gaze, no longer smiling. He knew the look the Lord Bishop was giving him and he didn't like it one damn bit. "No, your going to explain to me what is going on and what your afraid of. I've been forthcoming with you, perhaps too much so. Don't make me regret not telling my Captain first, Bishop."
@Min: The other two clerics stop where they are, but the bishop stares right back at you. "Dammit Skyknight we have no time for this! This is not about your pride, or your bond! You know not what forces you trifle with, what forces are trifling with you. You will tell me where your companion is and we will all four of us -- you, me, Kenneth, and Matthew -- go to her imMEDIATEly and because I am a fair man I will tell you what I know along the way but NOT before that, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!"
Something about the set of his jaw makes you realize this is less about rank, or privilege, or chain of command, and more about saving you and Lin from harm. You find yourself more willing to comply with his orders despite his yelling.
When the boy first interrupts Aylaeth shoots him an annoyed look. She was discussing very important matters and the man before her was obviously having an emotional crisis. She opens her mouth to tell the lad that she needs nothing from him but then the raised voices get louder, particularly that of the Bishop, and she finds herself torn. On the one hand, her duty was to fulfill her orders by finding out all she could about the abominations. As well she now had the secondary duty of comforting a hurting soul. Her loyalty, however, lay with her fellow Skyknight, and if Min was in some kind of difficulty, her place was at his side. Frowning again and grinding her teeth slightly at the perfectly inconvenient timing she makes her decision.
Squeezing the monk's arms gently she says "Brother Hurin, please forgive me but I must take a moment to see to something. Please, use this time to compose yourself and dredge your mind for anything useful to use against the Black Dragon Flight that you can recall. We shall continue when I return. Alain, please see that Brother Hurin lacks for nothing. You ,boy, come with me." she finishes sternly but not unkindly to the messenger.
She then strides quickly and purposefully over to the others, the page jogging to keep up with her. When she arrives she gives the barest nod of courtesy and respect demanded to the Bishop and places her hand on Min's shoulder saying "Bishop. Friend Min. Is everything all right? Is there something I can help either of you with?" despite her frustration at being interupted, her words are calm, as she hopes to deescalate whatever is brewing in this corner of the Library.
Lin sits near Na-Verinath, as she looks across the battleplain, and listens to him talk of his loss. She couldn't help but be distracted by the Bond, Min seemed agitated and she didn't know why. As she pushed those thoughts aside she tuned to look at Na-Verinath and bows her head, the Copper's loss dredged up her worst fears. The thought of living on without her rider nearly tore her heart in half, whether it was the bond working its strange magic or something else, she wasn't sure. But to lose him would mean living a half life to her, one she rather not live.
"I know not what to say for your loss. I feel some of your pain and live with the thought of losing my rider every day. You and your rider are far braver then many I have seen and for that I bow before you brother. I hope you recover swiftly to avenge your rider and if we are here I wish to fly with you to see that he is avenged."
With that she lays down and gives her scaled brother a toothy grin. "What was your riders name? Did he hail from the same region of Tautha as you?" she made small talk with him as she tried to ignore the growing agitation from Min's side of the bond.
Maiathreen and Livain watch as the sun breaks through the pre-dawn sky. Livain nestled against Maiathreen's chest his arms wrapped around his wife's waist holding her close as he whispers to her. He reaches out to a small garden on a window sill and plucks a rose with magic and hands it to Livain. "I love you. It's because of you that I was able to endure our training…" She smiles looking away and blushes. "I love you too.
As the morning went on the walls of protection that they had created over time were erected to their original stoic state. Livain resharpens her weapons and checks her bowstring for any frays or knots noticing a tiny discrepancy in the string throwing it out for a new one. Maiathreen sits on the cold flagstones with his legs crossed Servais across his lap as he studies his grimoire mentally preparing the spells he feels will be needed for the day preparing a couple he had just finished learning that night.
Livain begins a pot of silverleaf mint tea just as Maiathreen finishes preparing his spells. He helps the process with a flick of his wrist and a tiny spark jumps from his hand to the coals underneath the pot. At last the tea finishes steeping and Livain serves Maiathreen a cup to his liking which involves copious amounts of sugar which in her own opinion ruins the tea. The two are just about to start their sword-dance when they hear a knock on their door and are informed that Sir Damian wanted to meet everyone in an hour. Luckily for the young Brook the two Aellar hadn't had time to fully prepare for their dance as it isn't just a physical exercise but also a spiritual one which requires the participants to be unclothed.
Min focuses on the Bishop, despite the mans obvious intentions, his tone did not soothe the sting of his words. Min's silver eyes reflected like cold mirrors, his stance was solid and the air around him cooled to the point frost began to gather on his armor. ...CALM... Lins thoughts tried to push down his surging emotion, her will wasn't strong enough at such a distance but he got the hint.
Min suddenly points upward and towards the far side of the libraries ceiling, as he indicated which direction Lin was. "She's up high, but not flying. She wanted to visit the dragons quarter today. Perhaps that's where she is. " as Aylaeth touches his shoulder and speaks, Min looks to her and his harden look softens visibly. "Sorry for disrupting your studies friend Aylaeth, I didn't want the page caught in the middle of this. If you do not see us later please tell Damian we're sorry." He gives the slightest of nods towards the map on the table before looking back at the Bishop. Seeing the urgency on the Bishops face Min kindly brushes aside Aylaeth's hand and strides towards the street and moves quickly to the nearest open courtyard.
Lin sighed as her rider called to her, she had been enjoying her time with a fellow dragon and had hoped to continue. She rose slowly and bowed her head to the Copper. "My name is Lindórievórea. I would like to speak with you again if you would like. But sadly I am being called away, forgive me and if you need me we will be in the city for another day. Take care and gods bless you Na-Verinath."
With that she quickly departs, taking to the air and landing as soon as she can next to Min. When she lands she looks to the three priests questioningly and then her eyebrows rise as Min tells her what transpired.
Aylaeth frowns slightly, glances at the map (Knowledge check?), at the Bishop then back at Min. For a moment it looks as if she is going to say something else but then she appears to change her mind, nods and says "It appears you have the matter in hand, fellow Knight. If you should need me, you know where I am."
As she watches them move away the magus bends down to whisper to Min's page, in an even kinder voice this time "Go please, and find Sir Lamorak. Inform him of all you have seen and heard here. And go quick, there's a good lad." she watches the paige scurry off for a moment, then moves back to sit and speak with the monk again "My apologies Brother Hurin. Now, I believe you were just about to tell me more...?"
@Belsarious: Brook's eyes go wide, then he stifles a giggle, his eyes wide with mirth at your humor. "Y-yes, my lord. I will relay that message." The boy then departs.
Belsarious arrives in the appointed location and at the appointed hour.
@anyone present
"I am considering trainin a minor in tha ways o magic, if perchance an orphan tha shows talent, though I could not guarantee tha safety o tha ides child could anyone in these troubled times."
@Aylaeth: Brother Hurin seems to have composed himself. He opens his mouth and is about to speak when Brook comes jogging up to you.
"Lady Aylaeth. I beg your pardon for the interruption, My Lady, but Sir Damian has requested all Skyknights to meet in the Great Hall of the Cathedral of the West."
Brother Hurin snorts. "It seems we are destined for interruptions on this morning, ma'am. But look, I don't think it matters. I know what you want from me, but I can't help you in the way I think you expect me to. I was a prisoner. I was gagged, blindfolded, and bound as they took me into the Frost Kingdom. I saw nothing. I know nothing about the route, I know only that we went north. I awoke in a cell, was tortured for I don't even know how long, was knocked out, then revived and was turned loose south of Iridian, my mind not my own. If there is an abomination capable of scarring people like this," -- he points to one of his "tattoos" -- "then you can bet your pretty face they have it, and are using it, and are using it a lot. It's powerful, lady. I am a monk of the Q'adin. I am discipline incarnate. And this thing made me attack a man I consider a brother; the brewmaster Bardas Balsamon, who is a member of The Three. If that is the thing you seek, then you will have to go to the Frost Kingdom, to Veriala's prisons, to get it." He leans back, looking suddenly exhausted. "...and may Our Lord In Iron bless you if you do."
Brook looks from the monk to you. "...my lady..." he says impatiently.
The path across the square gives one a magnificent view of many of the most well-known landmarks of Izmir; the entry to the Avenue of the Gods, each of the Cardinal Cathedrals, the libraries, The Fount of The Inheritor, and others. Past this wide square expense, and to the Cathedral of the West, and into the Great Hall of the Inheritor, is where the Skyknights go; Sir Damian, Maiathreen, Livain, Belsarious all gathering. Only Min, Lin, and Aylaeth are absent, but Brook is not yet arrived either, indicating that these last are probably still being gathered.
@Min and @Lin:Bishop Janssen keeps walking, leading you across the square and to a giant door that you thought led into the Cathedral of the North, but once the acolytes Kenneth and Matthew open it, you realize, it leads down into the hill, and not up into the cathedral.
"What we are going to do is rid your bond of the foul taint that is currently -- as we speak! -- infecting it; the pure bond of Dragon and Companion is not loved by Kalaroth, and ever he seeks to destroy it. I do not know how you gained entrance to one of the Doors, though I would certainly appreciate it if you would tell me since I thought we had sealed all those doors long ago, and rendered them unopenable. By using one of Kalaroth's Doors you have made him aware of you, and Kalaroth hates metallic dragons, and dragonriders he feels are an abomination, a stain on dragonkind, and little more than slavers. Hence he seeks always to destroy the bond."
The entire time the bishop is talking, he is leading you down a long corridor. Eventually, after a few twists and turns, you arrive at a very large, round room with a high, domed ceiling. The dome is ringed with windows and copious amounts of sunlight are pouring in. There is no furniture of any sort in this room. Set in marble in the center of this rotunda is the symbol of the Sword and Shield of the Inheritor. By your guess, this room could accomodate two or three adult dragons and many humans.
The bishop points at Kenneth and Matthew. "Prepare yourselves! Prepare the rites of Ph'al Fennereth!" The two younger men scurry off to do his bidding.
He looks back at you two. "I am quite alarmed by the sudden resurgence in sitings of things related to Kalaroth. A rumor has reached my ears of the appearance of Tears of the Lightning God, and of sightings of Kalaroth's Clock; the Clock With Seven Hands. I hope fervently that these are all false, or exaggerations. Regardless! We are lucky that the Dragon God is yet distant, his being still banished from this plane. It means his influence on the two of you is weak, and can be overcome." He takes out a length of beautiful silver cloth, and puts it over his eyes. Kenneth and Matthew, who are not blindfolded, come up to him and reverentially tie the cloth behind his head.
"Lin, Min, lie down in the center of the room, please. We must get to work immediately. I have only two things to tell you before we begin: 1. Do NOT open your eyes, at ALL, EVER, while the ritual is being performed. Not on this plane, or the ethereal plane, or any other plane you find yourself inhabiting. DO. NOT. OPEN. YOUR. EYES. And number 2." he pauses. "I am afraid this is going to hurt. Probably a fair bit. So please steel yourselves."
Kenneth and Matthew are both pulling out very sharp-looking ritual weapons of some sort. One is a longsword, one is a curved dagger, like a short kukri. Bishop Janssen turns to face the center of the room.
"Let us begin."
@Sir Damian, @Belsarious, @Maiathreen, @Livain: As you are gathered in the Great Hall, taking a few rare moments to reflect on the beauty around you and converse with those in the vicinity, Captain Harrix approaches, looking noticeably healthier than he did last night. He greets you all warmly, shaking hands with Sir Damian last. "Hello, Skyknights! Blessings of The Inheritor on you this morning. Sir Damian, I received your communication, and we are working on your request right now. I'm glad young Brook is working out. He's a good lad with a strong spirit. As for equipment..." Here the Captain looks at all of you, "...while our resources are stretched rather thin at the moment, we are happy to honor any request we can, as long as it is neither superfluous nor frivolous. These are General Merit's orders, but it's what we would have done anyway, even had he not left instructions behind as he did. We have some new munitions that I have asked be brought here to show you, as I know a number of you are skilled archers. The Enhathladi, as always, are profiting mightily off the current state of things and have increased their craft and range of offerings. I--"
The captain is cut off by one of the pages -- you all recognize him as the one assigned to Min -- comes running up. "Captain Harrix, sir, beg pardon for the interruption, but Lady Aylaeth sent me to tell Sir Damian of events transpiring in the library; Bishop Janssen has taken Min and Lin away, he mentioned something about the 'rites of Ph'al Fennereth'!"
Captain Harrix raises an eyebrow. He looks at the four of you. "Did you enter one of Kalaroth's Doors? How?"
Belsarious pauses a brief second before answering the question with......
"Not I."
Knowledge roll for 'Kalaroth's Door'
Knowledge Arcana:
Very close to losing her patience as well, Aylaeth first looks to Brook with annoyance. Almost immediately though she reminds herself that the lad has no fault in the matter and is merely doing his duty. Sighing she says to him "Thank you Brook, you have given your message and discharged your duty. Please inform the Commander that I am in the midst of a very important interview and will join him as soon as possible." She stops there but then seems to think of something else. "Ah yes, if you have been looking for Sir Ramaloce and the noble Lindórievórea, I believe you can cease your search. They have gone off on matters that seemed to be of some import with Bishop Jansen. I have already sent Min's paige to inform your mentor. That will be all Brook, thank you." her look clearly indicating that it is time for him to leave.
Once they are alone again except for Alain, Aylaeth address Brother Hurin once more "I must disagree with you dear sir, for already you have helped more than you know, and I feel quite sure that more information lies within you than you are aware of. For example, based on what you have shared with me thus far, I am now positive that the artifact used upon you was indeed one of the Abominations. A vile creation which goes by the name of The Inkwell of Vicious Intent. It is capable of forcing anyone or anything to obey the will of the wielder. This is an ancient artifact of incalculable evil created by the Archmage Mariansu himself. I am not aware of anyone or anything that would be capable of resisting it's tainted power." giving him a significant look and a moment for this to sink in, she continues
"Now, I have some specific questions, and your answers should prove more valuable still. Who are these "Vrakshnah and Chrikh' Gon Kraikuul" you refer to? And what is Nega-Qi Ale? Anything you can tell me regarding these matters could prove helpful. Next, by 'The Three' you are not referring to those great heroes spoken of in prophecy are you? Do you suggest that they now, actually, walk the Land??"
Then, leaning forward, she asks the most important question of all "And finally brother Hurin, the question of utmost importance, how is it that you are sitting here before me, sane and seemingly released from the influence of an Abomination of Mariansu?? How did you escape or overcome it's unholy might?" her eyes intent on the monk, the scholar wills any further interruptions away until she gets the answers she seeks.
Min had a bad feeling about this whole ordeal, he didn't marvel long at the great dome or symbol of the Inheritor in the center of the room. He was more focused on what the Bishop had been saying until he saw the weapons that the clerics had suddenly drawn, as he opened his mouth to protest Lin's thoughts abruptly pushed his fears aside. Min turned to her then, his sudden surge of outrage dying down as he looked her in the eyes.
Lin was focused, what she was about to say would not go {We must have faith Bein.}
His thoughts were filled with outrage. {Faith, Veara?! What mad ritual includes bla...}
Lin interrupted Min, focusing as she spoke through the bond. {Do it for me then.}
His face was unreadable, but his eyes spoke volumes to Lin. After a moment of searching her eyes, Min looked away from her and walked to the center of the room, lying down on the right side of the symbol as the Bishop had instructed them to. Lin watched him for a moment before slowly following after him. As she laid down on Min's left side she placed a single claw on the right side of his chest, over where the bond had formed years before. The kept their eyes shut and waited for the ritual to begin...
Damian stands at the head of the table of the Skyknights, intent on not taking a seat until all were present and seated. Captain Harrix's arrival and the sudden explanation as to Min and Lindorievorea's location, make him thankful that he was standing. "Yes, we were shown a gate by a pseudodragon by name of Vel, who had proven himself reliable in the past. He opened it for us, allowing us to bypass the Black Dragonflight's blockade with no further risk to the mission. We emerged from the Lake, though it is difficult to know where exactly despite our attempts to mark it. Tell me, are they in any danger from this ritual? If so, Min is as a brother to us, and his dragon is noble and kind. We should be with them to lend our support if they have need of it."
@Aylaeth: The monk gives you a blank look, then speaks. "Vrakshnah is -- was -- an assassin, for I saw him destroyed by Princess Minathiel Ellethwen, of Tuatha, and her companions. The Three. I though his infamy had spread this far, but perhaps I overestimated his reach. It is no matter, he is dead. I saw the sun druid Nurianna, a Justice of Sarenrae, tear the flesh from the man's back and turn it into a map. Chrikh' Gon Kraikuul is a general of the Black Dragonflight army. His name means "He Who Refused Forgiveness." He rules with an iron and bloody fist, and is feared by all, his own troops included. And for your last question, I am not 100% sane, nor am I completely free from this abomination you speak of, for even now I feel the pull of shadow-fragments at the corners of my mind. It takes all of my will, every day, just to remain a functioning human being. It drives me mad. But the way I regained my little control I now have is simple."
He leans forward and says quietly; "I died."
"I don't know how The Three brought me back. You'd have to ask them. But they did, and here I am. When I died, a large portion of the Shadow left me. Just not all of it."
@Sir Damian: Captain Harrix shakes his head. "They should be fine. Bishop Janssen isn't the most pleasant fellow in the city, but he's damn good at what he does. I'd trust him with my life. I'm sure those two will be back here and fine in no time. Now, something that would be helpful to me; can I get a solid list of supplies and arms you'll want? Easier on the quartermasters if I can give it all to them at once..."
@Min and @Lin:
There is a sudden drop, and you feel as if the floor has gone out from under you. The feeling of falling is particularly anathemic to ones so used to coasting easily through the air, and as such the temptation to open your eyes is tremendous. Somehow, you resist. You feel caught as in a strange net, then tumbled end over end. There is heat, such tremendous unfathomable heat, and a voice as large as the world. Bigger! As large as a universe.
DRACO...DRACONIS...ARGENTUM...REGINA DRACO... Lin lets out a whimper. Min cannot see it, but she has opened her eyes to the glory and the terror around her. The glory of Kalaroth's prison dimension. She and Min are on a slab of rock suspended in an ocean of flame and hate. There is a chain, and each link is the size of a planet, and that chain leads up to a larger rock whose size the Silver dragon cannot fathom. She has not words. On it is a beast that might, conceivably, have been a red dragon at some point, but now bears as much resemblance to a red dragon as those creatures to the tiny monitor lizards that are said to be their relatives. The thing on the stone moves its neck -- so fast, too fast -- and looks into Lin's brave but terrified eyes. it opens its mouth, but is interrupted by a tiny, authoritative voice on the rock between Lin and it.
it is Bishop Janssen.
The diminutive old cleric is standing in a fighting stance, still blindfolded with the silver cloth, and he gleams like a tiny beacon; a pure silver light of goodness in Kalaroth's vast prison of fury and bile. "LIN I SAID CLOSE YOUR DAMN EYES YOU FOOL! hollers the Bishop. Lin, back to her wits, does so immediately. There is a deafening roar from the thing on the rock and heat washes over Lin and Min, such heat. Both feel their flesh baking.
The bishop begins to declaim in celestial, his voice a clarion call in the darkness, like silver bells in the deepest winter. The words come too quickly and fluently for either dragon or rider to translate, given their current state. The thing on the rock roars back at the cleric but he pays it no heed, just keeps speaking.
Meanwhile the voice begins in Lin's head again. It chants of power and glory, of a bond neverending, never being sundered by the terrible kiss of death taking away the rider. "DRACO ARGENTUM...REGINA...DRACO..."
Lin opens her eyes again.
The thing on the rock is almost upon them. She sees that Bishop Janssen has been chopping away at the chain connecting their rock to the bigger rock, hammer strokes from his morning star slowly blasting apart the chain link. He stops, though, and yells back at Lin. "DAMMIT LIN NO NOT AG-" He is cut off when the dragon-thing on the big rock smacks him with its claw -- its fingernail, really -- and sends him careening off into the blackness, his work not completed.
Min has been laying quietly this whole while, his eyes dutifully shut. But now he is worried. His will is strong, and he does not open his eyes, but he cannot feel the bond, just a terrible burning malice where companionship and love should be. "'Eva? Lin? Wh-what's going on?! Where are you?! I can't feel you!" Lin wants to answer, but cannot. For the thing on the rock is staring full into her face, and she is transfixed. It licks its lips. "YOU WILL BE THE FIRST. SOON THEY ALL WILL FALL!" the voice booms. "REMAIN STILL. I WILL REMOVE THIS GNAT FROM YOUR MIND!" Lin could not move if she wanted to, but from the corner of her eye, she sees one of the thing's massive claws position itself over Min's bare throat. It is going to decapitate him.
Lin manages a muffled whimper, but it is too quiet for Min to hear. "Lin what's going on?! WHERE ARE YOU?!" The steadfast and loyal Tuathan scout still has not opened his eyes, his will like iron in this time of need. The claw raises for the strike. The horrid dragon-god-thing licks its lips, its tongue a three-pronged wash of pure flame and electricity. "HAH! HAH! HAHHHHH!"
From the blackness, a voice; "BY THE MIGHT OF THE INHERITOR, BY THE PURITY OF THE SILVER FLAME, BY ALL THAT IS GOOD IN THIS LIFE, I SMITE YOUR FOUL BINDING, KALAROTH, AND BANISH YOU BACK TO YOUR PRISON! BEGONE!" Bishop Janssen has come sailing down out of the dark, and lands with a thud on the small rock. His morningstar neatly cleaves the link of chain binding the two enormous rocks, and the dragon-god screams. It jabs its claw down but misses Min by a wide margin as your rock is flung upwards out of the abyss.
The Bishop, who is still blindfolded, speaks again. "Lin. Please. By The Lady's holy shield. Close your bloody eyes, will you?" Lin complies. There is a rushing. There is a movement from dark into light. There is a surge from unbeing into being.
Then there is silence.
You open your eyes, and you both feel as if you have tumbled down a cliff. A particularly rocky cliff. You are both battered and scorched, as if you had walked through a furnace. Standing in the middle of the room, his clothes burned and his ribs shattered, is Bishop Janssen. A steady trickle of blood is flowing out of one corner of his mouth. His gauntlets are burned, his mail black with soot. His raiments, however, and the head of his morningstar both shine with pure silver light.
The cleric looks unsmilingly at you both, his breath labored. "I understand that in this case you had little choice, trapped as you were between ruinstorms and the enemy lines. As such I do not blame you for doing what you did. To do so would be a monstrous injustice. But please, in the future, do not take anymore of Kalaroth's tunnels. I beseech you. The harm they bring, I fear, could outweigh any other threat we now face. Kalaroth needs but one solid binding with a dragon here in our plane...and he can then speak directly to his followers in the Red Dragonflight. And we do not want that."
The older man latches his weapon on his belt. "Come. We can obtain a measure of healing outside this ceremony room. The Lady has smiled on us this day."
Lin kept her eyes shut, she held them shut so tight that it hurt and even with them shut the images of Kalaroth were still there. The horrible, hate filled visage with its claw hanging just above Min and she could do nothing. "YOU WILL BE THE FIRST. SOON THEY ALL WILL FALL!" the voice booms. "REMAIN STILL. I WILL REMOVE THIS GNAT FROM YOUR MIND!" And she did nothing but watch in horror...
As she whimpers once more, barely hearing what the Bishop was saying and in the silence that followed she felt a pair of warm hands gently lift her muzzle. Then came Min's voice, banishing the horrible images she saw and grounding her back to reality once more. As she opened her eyes she found herself face to face with Min, he looked terrible. "You alright Veara? You gave me quite a scare for a moment there, but its over now we should get back to the others." His voice was gentle and reassuring as he searched her eyes.
Her voice cracked as she spoke, she felt so small, so weak. "I failed you, I couldn't do anything. I could only watch, I was useles..."
Min shook his head, denying her words as he cut her off. "Stop. Don't speak another word, you are anything but Useless Veara. Besides we're still here aren't we." He smiled at her then. "Lets not keep the Bishop waiting, he's been through enough as it is. We can speak about all this later."
For a moment she just sat there shaking, looking at Min with fear filled eyes. How could he be so calm? How could he be so unaffected by what happened? Then she finally saw, Min's hands were shaking. He was just as afraid as she was and putting on a brave face. She would have known that if the bond didn't feel so numb and inert, she would have easily read that in his thoughts. Noticing that though made her feel a little better so she slowly sat up then and reached out with her front claws and hugged Min with a crushing embrace. As he wheezed she released him with a draconic chuckle. "Idiot."
Min laughed as he escaped Lin's grasp and headed slowly towards the Bishop. He looked back at her as she slowly started to follow after him, she looked a bit shaky but she was on the move. "I'm your idiot at least, looks like your stuck with me for awhile yet."
Lin chuckled at him again as she rolled her eyes at him. Min turned back to look at the clerics before him, the Bishop was in bad shape and he owed this man more then a simple apology. He owed them his life, no, thier lives. He had thought about not telling anyone about what had happened the night before, he thought they could handle it and he was deathly wrong...
As he fell in alongside the Bishop, his tone took a more serious note. "If we can ever avoid using those doors again we will do so. I never wish to go through that again, but is that ritual the only way to protect ourselves from Kalaroth's influence Lord Bishop? Or do we seek out Izmir again if it happens again?"
@Min:
"There are...other places where you could have the ritual performed, but this is the best place. You want to not fall into any of the Dark Fountains that exist between moments in certain cities. Like Mamban, H'arun, Stormfare, or Varna -- our neighbor to the north. You want to not gaze too long on the seven-handed clock. Any other artifact of Kalaroth, just avoid it. Better yet; destroy it! They do not good in this world, so we can only benefit from their utter destruction." The three of you exit the tunnel, where battle clerics await, thumping their staves into the ground...
The bishop takes a deep breath. "Now. Now that you know I'm being honest with you, I sincerely hope you'll listen to my other piece of advice, Min; leave the Lionhearts the hell alone! Just don't go after them." He shakes his finger at you, then straightens back up. With a nod to his two younger clerics, he heads back down towards the library.
"I'm in dire need of some magical components. Do you by chance have a spellbook written by Telemvor? Also there is an amulet that increases your skins natural toughness would be appreciated. A wand of magic missle and one of fireball or lightning. Some orbs of power would be nice but are by no means necessary if you don't have any or they are needed. Last do you have anyway to strengthen my wife's bow or find her a better one?"
Min shuddered as the warmth of the healing magic passed through, he bowed his head respectfully to the battle clerics as he listened to the Lord Bishop speak. When the Bishop had warned him about the Lionhearts once more Min couldn't help but frown sadly as he kept pace with the Bishop. "I do trust you, more then ever, Lord Bishop. We will do our best to destroy what we can of Kalaroths foul presence in the world and your advice is welcomed, but I sadly cannot back down in my search for this individual. They are at the center of tehir orders plight and must be found. I beg you to speak with our Captain, Damian Lamorak. He was the one originally asked to do this, I am merely trying to do some of the footwork during what should be a time of rest. Besides that, out of respect to you and my Captain, I don't wish to speak about what we had witnessed in public until Damian can give you a full debriefing of what we encountered in our search for the abominations."
As he headed back to the library intent of gathering his things and burning his old map and starting fresh with ink and quill. Min worked up the nerve to thank the Lord Bishop in a more respectful way, he just wasn't able to find the words to express himself. So once they were just outside the library he asked the Bishop to hold one last time. "You said earlier this day that it wasn't about my pride and you were right when you said I didn't trust you. In fact for a long time I trusted no men of the gods really, because when I needed guidance the most. I found no voice to guide me, no hand to point the way, only the dark realization that I would train boys to die like men. To watch a man sworn to peace, throw aside his vows and damn himself by shedding his enemies blood." He couldn't keep his fists from shaking as he remember those dark days, those trying times, filled with blood and pain. young boys being cut down and bloodying the snow as the dragonflight relentlessly pursued them. "Despite it all though I still prayed, in the hopes that at least one of the gods would listen. Hoping that they would bring aid and solace to everyone but me, because I believed we would do fine on our own. But I was wrong, today I learned it was utterly foolish to believe that I could handle any threat to Lin and I. That I could protect her from harm... I will try to become a better man from this day forward. I am forever in your debt and I know not how to repay you, I cannot even find the words to truly thank you for what you have done for us today."
He bowed his head respectfully to the Bishop just as Lin swept in alongside him and bowed hers as well. "We are in your debt Bishop, thank you."
If you need to speed things up, do so. I just wanted to put that last post in before we rejoined the group. I don't want to hold things up and that was an Awesome AWESOME post earlier. Ye Gods man! =D
The Sylph scholar sits back, rocked by the revelations the man seated before her gives. When he has finishes speaking she responds "By the Scales, how wondrous it is to see the touch of the Gods in our lives as they move in such interconnected ways. I know of these people you speak of, The Three, and not just from prophecy. My companions, my fellow Knights, did just meet them, in Mamban, very shortly before I joined the Knights company myself. I do not think my allies knew though that they spoke and moved among legends made flesh."
Then her voice grows grim "Not long after I joined their company, we were forced to cross Black Dragonflight lines, and we slew the foul black that was leading the army. I have no doubt that should we encounter this Chrikh' Gon Kraikuul he will suffer the same fate. I shall inform him on his dying breath that you send him greetings."
She then takes a moment to consider her words carefully before addressing the even bigger issue "You continue to amaze and impress me Brother Hurin, your story is an incredible one. Now more than ever I am sure that you should take great pride in your survival and the strength of will you obviously still possess." Suddenly making a decision, she stands, offering her hand to the old and frail seeming man of iron will "Come with me dear sir. I have kept my commander waiting long enough and I have a feeling that there are at least a couple of my companions who will be just as interested to meet you as you will likely be to meet them. Will you join me?"
And, assuming he accepts, she will guide him the meeting of the Skyknights. If he refuses, she will thank him sincerely and ask Alain to guide him back to his rooms or wherever else he wishes to go report back to her when he is done.
@Min: The bishop holds up his hand to stop you. "Debts, Skyknight, Are owed to men; creatures of flesh and blood. Debts are simple things made complicated by the scurrying emotions of our fallible hearts. What you just saw was the work of a god. I was merely a vessel for the will of the Shining Lady. It is the greatest thing any man can hope for, to give his flesh over to a force so great, it can sunder a chain forged in the fires of Shadow and Hell." He claps you comradely on the shoulder and looks earnestly in your eyes, but still does not smile. "You owe me no debt, Sir Ramaloce. I was merely discharging my duty, with care and attention. That is the most any man can do in this life. It is what I am here to do. I know not to what gods you prayed in your dark hours, but I do know that faith is a most efficacious thing, and that you and your companions are chosen by Iomedae herself to discharge your duty. So speak not of debt. Speak of duty. And when you go to the Great Cathedral of the west, across the square, stop by her fount, and offer a prayer. For it is she who gave you aid this day, and she who would receive your thanks."
The older man gives your shoulder a final squeeze, then releases you. "Kenneth! Matthew!" he barks at his acolytes. "Come! We are late. We must make up time if we are to finish on schedule..." The three of them walk off together.
In the Great Hall: As Captain Harrix's page is taking down the requests from Belsarious and Maiathreen, Aylaeth walks through the door with an emaciated-looking monk bearing strange tattoos. After a couple seconds' observation, you realize the markings on him are similar to those on Mai and Livain. The sylph scholar introduces the man as "Brother Hurin", and he immediately points one gaunt finger at the two aellar.
"Aellar! Huh. So I see some of you made it out. I'd heard there was an escape. We all assumed you would all be killed."