As Vaard continues on the path his ability to be alert to his surroundings diminishes somewhat.
Survival
Perception
The group continue to move across the grassy plain. They keep alert for danger but fail to keep good track of their route and by the evening they have veered off course. However, the sights are nevertheless impressive: herds of sauropod dinosaurs lumbering in search of food or browsing on the branches of the occasional tall trees, and once a tyrannosaurus stalking in the distance. They also occasionally spot halfling riders in the disatnce.
"We could try to barter with the next tribe. They may not have the same feeling towards the shulassakar as the last tribe. Then again, how difficult do you think it would be to control one of the large beasts we saw? Not the one with the large teeth, the ones eating from the trees. As enjoyable as it is to walk through such a nice place, I prefer to ride sooner rather than later." Tal says, cracking a smile for once.
After we set up camp, "Everyone, set out your water containers so I can fill them. This water will only last till tomorrow at this time so drink it while it lasts."
The ledge becomes a narrow enclosed passage and the adventurers clamber over the rough floor and through narrow choke-points for about half-an-hour. The it suddenly ends in a wide, cathedral-like space. The ceiling soars above them into the darkness and the floor is relatively smooth. The air is cool and dry but there is a barely perceptible throb that they group feel more than hear.
"These are the Caves of Prophecy," says Teprin. He walks over to an unlit brazier which is bolted to the floor. With a flick of a tindertwig he lights it, and then walks and lights another about ten yards away and does the same. As the cave is lit is scale becomes apparent - hundreds of feet high and stretching beyond sight into the distance. From the ceiling hang huge growths, like stalactites but seemingly made out of clear crystal, almost touching the floor. The light shining through them from the braziers projects onto the walls of the cavern in a profusion of writhing colours and shapes. Within these kaleidoscopic patterns can, perhaps, be discerned symbols or writing which constantly twist, change and reform.
"The Prophecy," says Teprin reverently.
The group fail to find any forage or water on their march westwards, and their route meanders on a few occasions over the relatively featureless plain. They finish the day tired and footsore, although Tal's conjured water helps to refresh them to some extent.
Cole shoulders his warmaul with a dull CLANG, then spins in a slow circle, his eyes probing the massive chamber. He gives the room a thorough look for nearly a full minute.
Finally, he can't help but have his eyes trace the writing.
Nalverren regards the chamber with a sense of wonder that is apparent even on the normally taciturn man.
"It truly is wondrous."
Vaard turns to Teprin, "I suppose with something as wondrous as this, there is no right or wrong way to approach it but how do you read the Prophecies or do you not attempt to do so?"
The group fail to find any forage or water on their march westwards, and their route meanders on a few occasions over the relatively featureless plain. They finish the day tired and footsore, although Tal's conjured water helps to refresh them to some extent.
"Do we press on?"
"I can continue if you wish. I believe I can help sustain any of us that falter for a while at least."
As his companions begin to slow Tal calls for a halt. "Let us not over exert ourselves to soon. Let me refresh you two and we can set up camp."
"I'll watch for most of the night with your skeleton 'companion'", Tal says with slight disdain. "As long as I can get my meditation before we move on. Hopefully the moon will provide enough light. I think a fire will attract too much attention."
Cole looks down at Nalverren. Leather and metal groan as he shrugs. "Can you make sense of it?"
Rehil nods agreement with Tal's decision on fire. A grateful smile ghosts across his face at the mention of Tal watching most of the night. Otherwise the exhausted elf burrows into his bedroll straight away.
Cole looks down at Nalverren. Leather and metal groan as he shrugs. "Can you make sense of it?"
Nalverren rubs his hands in a methodical manner on the goggles that he wears above his eyes like a headband. His fingers linger almost imperceptibly on each tiny dragonshard stud on the leather, and they seem to absorb the tiniest amount of the chamber's kaleidoscope of light into themselves. Mumbling arcane words, he pulls the goggles down over his eyes and searches the words cast on the walls.
"I can make no sense of it..."
Nalverren peers intently. The symbolic nature of the images is obvious, although they are frustratingly ephemeral. They are glyphs in a form of Draconic, but their meaning is not straightforward as they are complex and multilevel compound ideograms rather than ordinary writing. Their constant changing also makes interpretation difficult, both due to the difficulty of holding all of the different forms in the memory and the fact that the shifts are themselves meaningful, in terms of order, juxtaposition and velocity. There is a lot to take in and Nalverren swiftly realises why studying the Draconic Prophecy is a life's work.
What he can pick up in this relatively cursory view, however, is a general theme of agitation, the building potential for significant change. But the precise nature of this is frustratingly unclear.
Night falls swiftly. Soon the plain is plunged into blackness, relieved only by the distant twinkling of the Ring of Siberys and the etiolated reflections from a few pallid moons.
Perception
Vaard pulls his eyes away from the Prophecy as he notices a golden light begin to glow at the far end of the cavern, "Teprin, is that light a normal occurrence?"
"No," replies Teprin, "We have another guest who spends a great deal of her time in the Depths studying the Prophecy. She can be difficult," he adds dryly.
Approaching around a bend in the cavern, the glow intensifies as a golden dragon of tremendous size pads sinuously into view. Bigger than Shanquo's draconic form by several orders of magnitude, she has to dip her head to avoid scraping it on the ceiling despite the immensity of the cave. She threads her way through the stalagmites and stalactites until her eyes, like solid orbs of gold, fall upon the group. She then pauses as she studies them to an uncomfortably long moment.
"Teprin," she finally says in Draconic, "Who are these people?"
The night cools rapidly. In the darkness small animals rustle through the long grass or make subdued chirps. Bigger creatures bellow occasionally in the distance, the sounds carried across the flat plain.
Tal and Wultram's skeleton companion hear it about the same time - the slow, cautious tread of something large moving in the dark beyond the camp. There is a pause as it stops moving, and whatever it is then sniffs the night air as it searches for a scent.
Nalverren, when he can tear his eyes away from the words, turns to the newcomer and greets her with a deep bow.
Tal, instantly aleart, and glad for the reprieve from bordom, whispers "Skeleton, did you hear that? Can you see the creature?" He checks to make sure his weapons and shield are easily brought to hand without making to much noise.
Tall nods then moves to gently nudge Rehil and Wultram awake motioning them to keep quiet. Assuming the creature hasn't moved closer he will point in the direction he heard the sniffing. "Large creature, may be hungry. Prepare yourself." He whispers quickly.
Cole grounds the head of his warmaul between his feet, trying to appear peaceful but prepared. “We are guests of Teprin’s people.” He looks around the room emphatically, “We were given the chance to come see these prophecies first-hand. How could we turn that down?”
“I have met few dragons. Can I have your name … and boast that I know one more?”
Vaard also bows, "Greetings revered Gold, I am Vaard Ono'barv, Servant of the Silver Flame".
Ashshar turned attempting to raise his boe, but the moment he saw the colossal figure he lowered it stuttering. "I... my name... Ashshar..."
On being awakened, Rehil rolls to his feet while scooping up his curve blade. He slings it over his shoulder. His only response to Tal's explanation is a small shrug. Then he reaches for his bow and arrows.
Rehil spins slowly to scan the area around the small camp. He is suddenly quite still. He speaks very quietly, "It's big. About 80 paces in front of me. Two legs. "
A small pause, " Are all two-legged dinosaurs meat eaters?"
"Well then allow me to distract it while you summon, close your eyes for a moment." Tal intones a short spell as his shield lights up the immediate area.
Rehil shakes his head and mutters, "It knows where we all are now."
Tal floods the darkness with light. The creature shies at the sudden blaze, seemingly unsure what to do, but it doesn't flee. It is very large, perhaps as tall and long as an elephant. It has a large head and jaws which are packed with sharp teeth, powerful hind legs and a long stiff tail, although its front limbs are comparatively puny. Its knobbly scaled hide has wide dark stripes on olive-green and it peers at the adventurers from eyes sunk beneath heavy brow ridges.
"A strange assemblage," muses the dragon, more to herself than in reply. "A human, two lizardfolk, and a warforged. All very far from home."
Her gaze falls on Cole. "My full name would be unpronounceable for you. Plus an exchange of names would imply an inordinate familiarity. You may address to me using a suitable honorific. On first meeting you should refer to me as 'Lady Zishasa'. In subsequent conversation, you will use the term 'My Lady'.
"So, what is it that you seek from the Prophecy? Its complexity defeats most of the lesser races."