Yes, Karthan's and the Rook's. He is washing it from him. It is not new.
Hirruph, one should revel in the blood of ones kills, it attracts mates.
Perhaps we---primates---are just different Thor. Females of my species definately do not like blood all over our mates . . . much like females of your species would not tolerate blood all over their young.
. . . no, I believe that Karthan is just learning that the blood we draw, we also draw from ourselves.
Thor rested his head and closed down the mental link so that his thoughts could be his own.That makes little sense, I have drawn blood from countless prey and none of it has been drawn from myself. . .Females . . .
Sacerdos sat back in his seat and sighed, looking out the carriage window on his side. ”I inquired about the blade after our battle in Copperwood. Adamantine, she said. A gift from her father upon her assignment to the Chaplain-Protectors.”
Karthan's eyebrows arched as he cleans his new ring "A very valuable gift. Her father must be a man of means. A blade that can cut through rock and steel will be a great asset to us."
He said us Thor!
Yes, he did. I do have ears you know. You didn't bond with a seal.
. . . uh, you do know that animals like seals and moles can hear right?!
How? They dont have any on the sides of their heads? Well maybe they are just too small to see with the naked eye or something. It is too bad too. But not all animals can have the superior hearing of a Tiger . . . Elephants must be able to hear ALL KINDS of things with their meat flaps.
<sigh>
Don't get all jealous. You don't have enough fur either, but at least you don't get as many fleas that way right?
No Thorendal its not that.
Oh I see, its Thorendel now, all formal like. Maybe this is a good time to talk about your envy issues.
Wait, my what?
Well yes, it is only obvious you know. I mean look at my fearsome and perfect claws and look how much time you spend trimming and shaping yours trying to have them be as stupendous as mine. Don't think I don't notice you selfconciously tryng to hide them with different colors and coatings. I wish you could have the self esteem that I have, well deserved of course. You are very good looking . . . for your species.
I don't have many issues with myself Thor. I am more than above average to most every name giver that walks on two legs.
Wow! Now you are just overcompensating a bit now aren't you. Look I can see it's not a good time for this right now. I struck a nerve, went a little too deep. I've dropped it. Forget it even came up, I was just trying to help.
Thor I . . . <sigh> thank you, what would I do without you. You know this link doesn't convey sarcasim very well, dont you?
Oh no need to mention it. It is a part of our deep bond, your interdependance. I could see where you could think I was being sarcastic rather than contrite.
Oh yes. Zandra smiled out the window at her companions opinion of himself.
Thor closed the link again. I get a temple built in my honor and I am properly recognized for the God . . . No, lets not go too far now . . . hummm . . . lets say, the near godlike, being that I am and Zandra can barely control herself for the loss of attention.
Humm, I wonder if Karthan is beginning to think more about remaining with us.
A good time as any for my early midmorning, but not quite middle midmorning early catnap. No Tiger nap, or wait tiger snooze? Maybe I should deem it stilled introspection period, or? . . .
After Karthan handed back the flask, Sacerdos replaced it in his satchel and adjusted himself in the carriage seat. With the tiger in place between them on the floorboard, it was cramped quarters. The tiger looked up for a moment. He hoped he had not inadvertantly sruck it in the nose with the scabbard trying to get situated. The half-elf Inquisitor unbuckled his sword belt and leaned it against the carriage wall, near to hand.
He pointed to the ring now replaced on Karthan's finger. "A fine prize, that. Useful on and off the battlefield, I'd wager. Capable of blending in to your surroundings and also of creating disguises."
Karthan looked at the ring more closely. "Yes indeed, I can think of many uses. It will make me an even better stalker."
A young stalker on the ridge, why a ridge? Did he mean I had to chose what side of the mountain I would go down? Is there more than one side?
"While we are on the topic of our gear, I wanted to mention the breastplate you are wearing. Is that something you won on crusade or is it something from your church? Is it elf forged."
”హార్ట్ యొక్క ఆశ్రయం.” He said, pulling aside his red and grey tunic so the armor could be more clearly seen.
The armor is a banded Mithral breastplate, the interweaving of the graceful bands a beauty to behold in their intricacy. As the Inquisitor breathes in and out, the armor flexes and expands and contracts with his barest of movements.
”A gift from Netril Oakleaf, an elven artificer of unequaled genius.” A grave tone settled into his voice. ”Ragathiel and Erastil shelter his eternal soul. He and his companions fought alongside the Knights of Ozem at the Worldwound. They fight still, but Netril’s fight is long over, some twenty years now.”
A wrap on the armor and Sacerdos returned his tunic to rights. ”I, my commander and two paladins held off a group of hobgoblins and a demon while Netril went about repairing a siege engine outside the gates of a Demon Lord’s fortifications. When we knew the end was near, my commander charged me with forcibly removing Netril from the area while he and the others covered our escape.” There was no sense of grand accomplishment in his tone. In fact, it appeared the memory conjured pain and regret. ”I did my duty and from that day, Netril and I were close friends, like brothers. He was the first elf I’d met who had not looked down upon my split heritage.”
”Many years after Netril Oakleaf fell during a sortie from Castle Everstand, his apprentice found me and presented me with this armor. The only message was its name; Heart’s Shelter.’
There was more to tell, but Sacerdos held back what was clearly a personal matter. In the Inquisitor’s life, there were many things he held dear. The the truths that made him a man after his Lord’s heart. Some excelled in holding these deep truths out for the world to see and judge and handle, but Sacerdos would never share these things with anyone...anyone save for the woman in Magnimar that held his heart. She was the only person save for Ragathiel himself that truly knew the inner recesses of the half-elven Inquisitor.
Zandra casted about with her Detect Magic, noting the presence of deep elven workings in the rings and armor Sacerdos bore. There was further magics folded into the keen steel of his sword. In the shade of the carriage the weapon positively glowed in the elf maiden’s eyes. The sword was alive, it breathed...it had a heart beat...Knighteye...it spoke to Zandra. Mixed into the steel was a level of aggression that pulsed with anticipation, nearly overwhelming to the peaceful emotions of the feminine Dawnsetter. And the blade was by far connected to the half-elven Inquisitor. A true and amazing named-blade Zandra had never encountered.
Across from Zandra sat her cousin. He brimmed with magical energies, from his bonded staff to the components secreted about his person. But what she noticed most was the anticipation in her cousin’s demeanor.
Fir’umil looked over in response to his Karthan’s inquiry. ”Indeed, cousin. The smartest thing you’ve said all morning.” His hand slipped into one of the secret pouches of his robes of its own accord and withdrew a bit of dried soap and flakes of potpourri. ”Immundus Amove...” he spoke in the language of magic.
The clothing and belongings of those in the carriage began to have the bits of dried and drying blood and grime and sweat removed. In a matter of moments, all - save for the tiger - looked as though fresh from the launders.
”When we arrive at the Arcanamirium, Sacerdos, you will be escorted to an audience chamber. My cousins and I will first seek Tabir, and then meet you there. There are procedures and protocols that must be followed.” Fir’umil’s gaze fell upon all in the carriage. ”I’m sure all of you can understand the need for holding to protocol in this matter. Success in battle is one thing, but you now approach the most powerful center for magical learning in all of Golarion. I won’t have you embarrassing me.”
As the carriage traveled the roads of Absalom, they left the Ascendant Court behind and crossed into the Wise Quarter. The buildings became libraries, gathering halls and open forums. It was the home of several prominent schools and libraries, but none are so prestigious as the Arcanamirium. Scholars and philosophers from all over the world over congregated in the Wise Quarter to teach, research, and debate any topic known to mortals on Golarion. At its heart rose the Arcanamirium, climbing into the sky upon stones mortared with arcane energies.
Fir'umil subconsciously smoothed his robes and settled his mind. Soon, my master. Soon you will be free of this place!
”When we arrive at the Arcanamirium, Sacerdos, you will be escorted to an audience chamber. My cousins and I will first seek Tabir, and then meet you there. There are procedures and protocols that must be followed.” Fir’umil’s gaze fell upon all in the carriage. "I’m sure all of you can understand the need for holding to protocol in this matter. Success in battle is one thing, but you now approach the most powerful center for magical learning in all of Golarion. I won’t have you embarrassing me.”
Karthan locked eyes with his cousin looking for cues. "I was raised in court fashion just as you were. You needn't make threats cousin. Or perhaps you are more worried about your status rather than embarrassment."
Karthan shifted his appearance to that of his other cousin, Hal'odril, with his new rings power. "Would this be a better way to go in. Hal'odril was always so fond of pomp and circumstance." Hal'odril shifted back into Karthan.
"Both of you stop it. We have enemies enough without the two of you in constant competition and false bravado."
"Fir'umil, perhaps you could be more specific about the proper way to approach this situation. Or maybe a little bit of knowledge about whom the Grey is might help for our interaction with him."
"And Karthan, I know you are not fond of coming here or of going back into a classroom situation that you had found difficult before, but this is something that must be done."
"For those of us bound by family, childhood and blood, let us not forget that the man we are about to meet was a friend of our parents. Would you have him see us, the children of his dear friends this way we are acting now?"
"I might be wrong, but my assumption has always been that he human, correct? If so than this may be our only chance to meet him and learn something of ourselves and our parents. Please let's make this a good experience for us all."
"Futhermore, eternal souls lay in the balance for rescue at Sacredos's hip. Let us not forget their torment while we indulge in petty quips."
Karthan tried to hold on to his grudge, but it left him hearing his sister talk like his mother. "Ok, I will admit that what I did was baiting on my part. I will refrain from that, perhaps I shall make my concern more clear rather than allow myself to leave it unsaid and create more angst around me."
"Before I go in there I want your word, as a blood family member, that there will be no attempt to bind me against my free will by magic. Please."
Fir’umil leaned forward and looked his cousin in the eyes. ”I will make you that promise, Karthan. No magic will bind you.” He sat back in the carriage seat and gripped his staff in contemplation. ”I’m not picking a fight, cousin. But you must hold your temper in this place. While you may think this school is nothing but wizards and scholastics, there is an element here that focuses on martial skills as well.”
He cleared his throat to keep from coughing, drawing his handkerchief from his sleeve to breathe in the mint he’d crushed and worked into the material. ”Whether you like it or not, the festivities we just enjoyed with the Rook should be proof enough of the abilities you yourself may eventually acquire in the avenues of magic. If you avoid burning bridges here, and you so choose to take advantage of the opportunity, there is a ranger group here from whom you could learn a great deal.” Fir pinched the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to comment on how it would take an astounding arrangement of difficulties of Karthan’s own making for his cousin to overcome before he arrived at the obvious course. Instead he sighed again. ”But I leave it to you to find your own way with respect to your education and future. For now, I suppose we should stay to the task at hand.”
There was a time when he’d felt the same way as Karthan did right then. Trapped behind the walls of a destiny he didn’t understand nor even wanted. But as the Pattern had expanded before he and Olivia’s efforts...as more and more was revealed...Fir’umil understood that between his own father and the parents of his cousins, the planned destiny they shared would lead to a better place than his own ambitions.
Outside the carriage, Hindre thumped once with this booted heel to let them know they were arriving at the first gatehouse to the Arcanamirium. After a few moments, the carriage rolled to a stop. ”I ask, out of courtesy, for you all to follow my instructions and extend a measure of trust.” It was one of the few times Fir’umil did not like the after effects of Kheegan’s grip on his throat so many months before. His crushed larynx lent his voice an improperly timed amount of looming darkness.
He let his words swirl in the carriage as he withdrew another item from his robe sleeve; a small wood carving of delicate intricacy. An object in the shape of a stylized turtle. Fir’umil handed the object to the guardsmen outside their carriage door.
The guardsmen was dressed in elaborate plate armor, a tabard of blacks and purples. A human. He took the turtle, examined it and simply returned it to Fir’umil’s outstretched hand. ”Good morning, Arcanscenti.” The guardsmen raised a gauntleted hand to signal the opening of the gate.
A moment later the carriage rolled forward.
”Arcanscenti?” the Inquisitor reflected. ”How long did it take you to achieve that rank?”
Fir’umil secreted away the turtle in his sleeve and rearranged his robes again. ”The day I was tested. The day I was brought on at the school.”
”Impressive.” Sacerdos commented.
It tempted at his ego but Fir’umil merely shrugged. At this point, the wizard had to see past his ego and to the present world. Dreaming of future glory was a waste of time.
They passed into the main arrival yard where the carriage’s ride became smoother over the paved stones, the horses’ shod hooves ringing out. About the courtyard were several buildings of varying forms and function. A library with mighty stone pillars carved into the likenesses of dragons, a marble staircase at its front with griffin statues at the base of the stairs welcoming all manner of student and teacher alike.
Another building rose several stories into the air, built in a simple cube design save for the climbing vines that seemed to encase it within nature’s hand. Twenty foot double doors stood open where the main atrium could be seen from the street. Despite the enclosed structure of the building with its measured windows all around, there appeared to be new-dawn sunlight bathing the interior.
Yet another building was surrounded by a thirty foot wall of solid stone, the building within tall enough to rise above the walls where its uppermost floors could be seen from the arrival yard. From within the walls could be heard explosions and the clatter of steel and the shouts of various languages. The main entry of to the structure was a solid iron portcullis through which an interior practice yard could be seen, wizards and warriors plying the trade of war within.
But the center of the Arcanamirium’s grounds drew the new arrivals attention as a whole. A spiraling tower rose from the ground to nearly mythic heights, the base of which could account for two city blocks. The stonework was detailed with chips of obsidian and gypsum all along the surface, giving the exterior walls the look of a pool of infinitely deep water.
It was at the front of the main building that the carriage came to a stop. A diminutive individual saw to the opening of the doors and a wood stair was put into place as the figure, a halfling female smiled greeting. “Arcanscenti Osseus, welcome back.” She bowed with respect, garbed in dark green robes of finely woven silk with an interior lining of a tight-furred animal skin. ”Letrious will be pleased you’ve returned.”
In a motion that may have taken his cousins by surprise, Fir’umil smiled and placed a friendly hand upon the halfling’s shoulder, gesturing with this staff for her to stand up straight. ”Greetings to you as well, Ana. Has Letrious been hounding you for the Book of Lesser Totems the entire time I’ve been out?”
Ana giggled but stopped her response short when she saw the others exiting the carriage. Instead of responding to Fir’umil’s question she bowed again. ”Greetings and welcome. I am Apprentice Ana Greenfields.”
Fir resisted the urge to sigh again. The halfling was close to his heart in her earnestness to learn magic. ”Ana, may I introduce my first cousins, Karthan and Zandra Dawnsetter. And also a new acquaintence, Sarcedos e’Niihl, Inquisitor of Ragathiel.” As Thor exited the carriage, the elven wizard noted the wide eyes on Ana’s face. ”And this mighty creature is Thorendel. He is companion to Zandra.”
”Honored to meet you all,” Ana bowed and stood with a bright smile that warmed the group with its enthusiasm and genuineness.
”Ana, if you would be so kind, I would ask that you escort Inquisitor Sacerdos to the Hall of Geros for me. In addition, if you would notify Alaric that I have returned and have him meet in the Hall as well. I will be taking my cousins on a quick visit.”
”It would be my pleasure Arcanscenti Osseus.” The halfling curtsied and held out a hand for Sacerdos. ”Master Inquisitor, I will be escort you to the Hall of Geros and see to your refreshment if you desire.” As she moved away, she spoke quickly to Fir’umil. ”Don’t worry, Letrious only asked a dozen times for the book.” She winked and led Sacerdos away.
Once they had departed, Fir’umil turned back to his cousins and Thor. ”We will enter now. Stay close to me and gird your minds. There are things you may see that will challenge your sense of what normal in the world outside this school. But as I said before, please trust me. Nothing in this place means you direct harm.”
They left the carriage behind, a pair of groomsmen - one a Tiefling, the other a Grippli - appeared and began working with Hindre to lead the carriage to the stables. The three elves and the tiger climbed the marble steps that led to the entrance to Arcanamirium proper.
Inside, the main atrium was staggering. Smoothly polished marble tile work in varying colors and symmetries stretched outward. Massive columns as thick as houses rose upwards to support flowing walkways that ascended the interior walls. There was a cacophony of echoes and such a myriad of voices that ranged in tones and language that Karthan and Zandra (and maybe Thor) came to a screeching halt only a few steps through the entrance.
”Steady, cousins. Give it a moment.” Fir consoled them.
Ephemeral magics drifted and settled over Karthan, Zandra and Thor. A delicate gauze over their senses...and gradually the noise became more and more manageable. Before too long, it was no more distracting than a thinly populated tavern hall.
Once he sensed they were ready, Fir’umil gestured for them to continue walking. ”An enchantment of the building. When it was constructed, the mages and engineers understood that the stone resonated more than most, so they ensorceled them to reduce the noise.”
With the impact of noise resolved, Zandra and Karthan’s eyes were allowed to take in the variety of denizens about them. Humans, elves, halflings...even a minotaur garbed in a simple tunic and breeches speaking low with a human female of mesmerizing beauty. All were about the business of magic and learning. As the five of them crossed the atrium towards a trio of doors, Fir’umil bowed low before several individuals that most likely were instructors or those of higher rank than he.
For Zandra (and maybe Thor), the druid had to school her magical senses to temper the influx of arcane noise. It was akin to standing in a room where the walls, ceiling and floor blazed with white sunlight. The elf maiden “shielded” her magical senses with her “hand” to block the light.
Ahead of them, they approached the trio of doors. All were situated abreast, all were inset to what appeared to be their own square columns that rose to dizzying heights. Groups of people entered the doors, but only a few moments later, more people entered through the same doors, the first group having disappeared. More perplexing was the interior beyond each set of doors was merely a tiny room.
Fir’umil turned back to his cousins. ”These are lifts. They ride magical energies paired with mechanical constructs to take you up and down and throughout the building. They were invented by one of the schools founders, Widmarc the Archstone.”
The arrived at the right hand set of doors which opened at a waive of Fir’umil’s hand. He stood aside and gestured with his staff towards the interior. ”Shall we?”
Zandra smiled back at the Halfling apprentice, "Your smile and cheeriness are found quite welcome in light of how our day started. thank you for that. May good fortune find you in your studies."
As they walked across the grounds she took in the sight appreciatively. Once inside she found the building to be quite fantastic in its construction and the diversity within. As impressive as it was it was still insignificant when compared to the power and complexity of nature, but for something built from nature by name givers it was masterful.
The decades spent both learning and practicing protocol, etiquette, and grace came into play here. She followed Fir'umil's lead and felt quite comfortable socially. Everyone had a path to walk, Arcane Magic was one of those paths. For other races it was a life work, but to the elves it was a path that many of them would walk for a while over the centuries.
Thor for his part was enjoying the diverse, new and exotic scents that he was experiencing. There were people, things and entities from all across the world and presumably different planes of existence here. It was thrilling to the senses.
Her cousin explained the lift and motioned to allow her to enter.
"Yes and thank you. The leaves of my limbs move with the promise of the coming dawn's breeze. May its coming enlighten us and the world around us blood of my blood."
She settled in ready for the next revelation.
Karthan watched his cousin's face closely and decided there was no deception there about the promise he would not be bound.
Fir'umil could have answered that way the first two times I brought it up to him and it would have allowed us to avoid this strife. He likes drawing things out for dramatic affect, but not in the benevolent good hearted way Hal'dorel plays it."
"You are wrong though about something cousin. I do not think this school is nothing but wizards and scholastics. I know there is an element here that focuses on martial skills. But, I am also acutely aware of the danger, power, relaxed moral fiber and subterfuge that goes on here. Ruse, ploy, wile, artifice, feint, device, scheme, plot, stratagem and maneuver all you wish. There are secrets you keep that affect and involve me."
"I accept you at your word cousin. Let us proceed."
Karthan remained stoic, but not negatively so upon their arrival. He greeted the Halfling upon arrival, but wondered inwardly why his cousin seemed so warm with her in a way he had not been known to treat his own family members.
The wizards hall was what one would expect of the city at the center of the world. No doubt this place held far greater wonders and terrors, but this was where those not of the university were allowed to travel and view and no doubt wonder at what other secrets were concealed and jealously guarded by the wizards here.
At the lift Zandra got in with Thor who was acting . . . well what was it? More like an intelligent magical animal? He was that Karthan guessed. "I guess you are lapping up that ass kissing ole Fir gave you as we got out of the carriage."
Karthan stepped in and remined himself that the silent hunter was watching him. He was calm and centered and ready for what came next. Still the steel pressing at his back was a comfort.
"Yes, let us proceed where this journey needs to take us."
Fir’umil nodded and retrieved the carved turtle and held it out in his palm before a brass plate inlaid with intricate carvings. After speaking an arcane command word, the turtle floated from his palm and phased into the brass-plated panel. Moments later the clicking and whirring of machined parts could be heard outside the tiny room.
The doors slid shut and the room shifted beneath their feet. The room was moving.
”The next area we will enter will be somewhat disturbing.” He turned to face the others and actually leaned against the brass handle that encompassed the tiny room. ”There is no way to say it but to come out with it; we are entering a secret area of the Arcanamirium. A place all the regents and spell lords would rather didn’t exist but does.”
The lift came to a stop, the doors sliding open with the same mechanical pronouncement with which they’d closed. The wooden turtle emerged from the brass panel and Fir’umil retrieved it from the air without looking, stuffing it into his robe’s sleeve. Into the tiny room in which they all stood drifted the sounds of insanity.
”This is an asylum constructed deep within the foundations of the Arcanamirium. Master Beleg accomplished much and sacrificed much to gain our access to this place. Unfortunately, so did Master Altabiric the Grey. He is a resident of this place, imprisoned here several years ago after a fire erupted in his laboratory on these grounds. A student died in the fire, and a part of the Grey’s mind did too.”
Fir’umil was the first off the lift, quickly turning back to forestall his cousins from departing the tiny room. They both could see Fir visibly shudder now that his feet were on the stone tiles at the opening a lengthy hallway that extended out. ”Before you emerge, realize the level of warding that is over this area. All magic save those workings that are permanently part of you are severed in this place. It is how those who are residents here are prevented from ever escaping.”
Still standing before them, he continued. ”Understand, I have spent a great deal of time exploring the Grey’s library, working closely with Master Beleg as he instructed me as my sponsor and mentor. When I arrived here the first time, my anticipation was to meet Tabir, but instead, Master Beleg took me on. The Grey is a crucial piece to the puzzle that is the Pattern. His knowledge of magic will aide us in uncovering just what or who may be behind these events. Needless to say, Olivia and I have waited a long time for you.”
Fir’umil looked to Karthan, a grave concern in his eyes. He was so close...so close! Their responses will be the next step or a cataclysmic set back... Fir thought to himself. ”Karthan, this next part you will not like. It was stipulated as part of his incarceration that only three people in unison could gain access to the Grey. Those three are here now. We are the key to freeing him from this menagerie. We are the key to freeing one of the most brilliant minds in generations.” He gestured behind him, his hand taking in the moanings of despair eminating from the hallway and the many dozens of barred doors. ”He suffers needlessly. A broken mind that we may have a chance to bring back to some semblance of sanity. His work is bound in books and scrolls, locked away until Altabir’s mind is allowed to access their secrets.” His words faded to a wheeze and then a coughing fit that doubled him over.
The wizard stepped back and leaned upon his staff, dabbing at a spot of blood at his lip with his handkerchief. ”He has the key to Sacerdos’ predicament. That much could be a start. If he fails, if his mind is too far gone to manage the task, then we return him to this place to languish.”
"Why choose Zandra and I? Who is this man and why would whatever powers that be choose us as the key? . . . I guess it was Beleg's doing wasn't it? I guess this is the answer as to why we were brought to the city isn't it?"
Zandra studies Fir'umil's face for a moment. "This is important to you Fir'umil and Karthan you can see that he speaks to us what he can. I can sense great nervousness and anticipation in you cousin. I do not need my magic to see that. There are larger things at work here. Obviously we aren't just here reference the kukri. Is this related to what our parents gave their lives for? What is it Fir'umil? I believe whole heartedly that you at least hold the gist of it. Whatever my fears may be in this this level of preplanning and effort should not be ignored."
You shall stay here in the lift Thor. I believe I will be cut off from you. This place blocks all supernatural and magical sending. Be still until I return my friend. I don't anticipate any physical danger. I will be safe.
Zandra made up her mind and stepped off the lift into <tearing noise> Death itself. She was lifeless, the earth had ceased living as well. Nothing hummed sang or emoted there was nothing but stillness and a few anguished cries here. She was cut off from everything!
No not everything, her heart still beat in her ears. She opened her eyes and could see, she could feel her fingers tremble.
So this is what it felt to be cut off from Mana, Gia and what it must feel like to be her brother. A null entity, the way most beings had to go through life. Zandra fought off the panic and stood next to Fir'umil willing herself to adjust to the numbness she was experiencing.
Fir'umil nodded thanks to Zandra, forcing his emotions to react to her step of faith rather than the expected questions from Karthan. To focus there would be to cause his hackles to rise. Of course, now, cut off from the life of magic, there would be little or nothing he could do to defend himself should Karthan decide to strike out of anger or perceived betrayal.
"Altabiric was one of your parents greatest friends, having met long before you were even born." Fir held up a hand to request patience. "Yes, I know how that sounds. Altabiric the Grey is only human...but his mastery of the arcane has lent him our lifespans. As I said, this place cuts off all connection to the world of magic but for those changes in us that have become a part of us. Our lifespans...the Grey's lifespan. You must understand the level of accomplishment in this man's life for him to achieve such a coup."
Fir'umil reached into his robes and withdrew his tincture, placing a drop on his tongue. He took a deep breath and continued. "When Olivia and I embarked on this crusade with Beleg and Liberios, we continued to run into various obstacles that essentially cut off our ability to research. We eventually gained access to Altabiric's library, but that has only garnered so much. I pleaded with Beleg and the spell lords here to tell me why I couldn't speak to Tabir, why Olivia and I were hamstrung in our efforts. If the Grey was such a close friend of my family, then why wouldn't he see me? I had crossed half a world just to find him...back when I had thought my father still lived..."
Fir'umil swallowed again, but this time it wasn't his throat that was trying to betray him. "Master Beleg revealed to us several months ago what had befallen the friend of my father and your parents. He also revealed that it would take three children of those friends to vouchsafe his release. It was not revealed to myself nor to Master Beleg why that was the case. Only that the provision was made and it was non-negotiable. It had to be three of the four remaining children...myself, Zandra, you or Hal'dorel, any combination of three. So things were put in motion to see that all of us were in Absalom." Fir gripped his staff and closed his eyes for a moment. "Perhaps if I'd known more at the time, I wouldn't have treated Hal'dorel so poorly. Perhaps he would still be here instead of the Lonely Coast...then Karthan, you would not be needed so."
"You were doing really well until that last part." Karthan shakes his head in disbelief. "I am assuming that no one else is down here to really hear this so I am going to say this out loud."
Karthan points a finger at his cousin.
"You can be a real dick Fir'umil. To the point I don't know what to think of you. My whole life you have been like that. Its one thing to be wrapped up in yourself or ambitious and quite another to use people only for what's good or in it for you."
"Perhaps if you'd known more at the time, you wouldn't have treated Hal'dorel so poorly. Perhaps he would still be here instead of off in the Lonely Coast wherever the f%%& that is...then I would not be needed so." That's real rich. Why don't you try being nice to Hal because he spent our entire childhood being made to feel guilty for still having his father by you!"
"S+!!! Hal followed you all the way here out of his love for you cousin, whether or not you value that at all. He was always there to help you, make excuses for you, clean up your messes, put things back together after you pull the cyclone card on people. Heck, explain to little kids that Fir'umil doesn't really hate them, "its just that he carries so much hurt around with him that it is hard for him to relate to you remember he is our cousin and we should love him as we love each other."
"And, I am sick and tired of your condescending attitude towards my sister and I. If we help you out here I am guessing we would be back out of the picture and discarded if it wasn't that we were useful in some other way to you."
"Huh, no wonder you said you wished could put things right with him. Maybe you could have Beleg to go and teleport off and bring him back for you. Then you would have your three without me. But, maybe your ego was too big for that. Better to bring Karthan halfway around the world than say sorry to Hal'odriel right? Or was whatever that happened between you and Hal so bad that there is no fixing it? Maybr that's why I cant get a straight answer about it from Mal'undil and The Scroll."
"I wanted to believe you were changing and give you chance, but maybe now I am seeing the real reason you have been acting a little bit more chummy."
"And one more thing! I am willing to bet the only reason you are still upright and walking around with that neck as a souvenir is because Hal'odrel saved your sorry ass somehow. Maybe someone was teaching you a lesson that you can only beat a loyal dog so many times before he bites you back."
Fir’umil’s eyes were downcast. ”You speak truly, Karthan. But I keep this...” he placed fingers to his throat. ”...as a reminder of the first 135 years of my life. A reminder that all of the power I had sought, all the magic I’d given my soul over to possess...all of it with the goal of saving my father.” The wizard’s shoulders slumped. ”Only to find out it was all for nothing. I’d pushed away everyone in my life...including Hal’dorel.”
”You have no reason to believe me. Since you’ve arrived in Absalom both of you have seen the Fir’umil of the past. But the humility and loss of nearly fifty years of my life has directed my energies to the path my father had chosen for me all along. In a way, I think I found him in this new work.” The wizard took a deep breath, slow and sure so he wouldn’t cough. He took a step closer to Karthan. ”Our cousin is better off lending aid as he sees fit. He searches for clues about my father...about his past. No we didn’t separate on proper terms...I hadn’t accepted the truth of my father’s death at the time. If the gods are forgiving, perhaps I will be given a chance to repair that bridge, maybe even repay him for the years of being my defender and confidant.”
”What I can do now, is prove to you both that things are changing within me. Am I prone to my old ways? Yes. I still carry the same likes and dislikes that make me who I am. But the ambition and determination of my past is also part of what makes me an effective wizard now. I will not change that, but perhaps my deeds will go towards reclaiming a trust between us that should have been there all along.”
sense motive Karthan
Is this guy for real!? He may be just being a good actor because he wants in to this vault so bad . . . But, what if he is being sincere.
Sense Motive Zandra
Like a volcano that has blown its top, both men have hopefully released their destructive energy and now things can cool. Karthan, I thought you had gone too deep, but perhaps your need to know the brutal truth has excised this disease that plagues our relationship.
"And the intricate tattooing or otherwise permanent sigils all over your body? What is the meaning of those?"
"Gifts of Master Beleg and a sorceror who studies the art." Fir was beginning to feel the lack of their effects already. He breathed in more deeply, then continued. "A particularly nasty encounter with skinsaws two years ago. They are wards that reinforce my fortitude. Without them, I will waste away in a matter of weeks."
Both siblings sense no duplicity in Fir'umil. Perhaps the hundred years you've known him as an adult have closed your assessments of him since arriving in Absalom.
Karthan listens intently to what Fir'umil is saying and seems to be receptive. "And this research you and Olivia have been working on? I saw you exchange some kind of meaningful glance before we came here."
Zandra remained still it seemed that tensions were normalizing without her intervention and she did not want to do anything that might upset the delicate trust that was forming like tiny stars of ice at the edges of a windowpane at the onset of winter.
"Add I said earlier, we have been denied access to the Grey...that is, until now. The opportunity to work with him directly well increase our effectiveness. I suppose what you saw in the courtyard was anticipation." Fir frowned. "She and I don't always agree, but we do share a measure of zealotry in this...calling."