Toramin does not see any indication that Tiasar still has the spellblight.
"Congratulations on your recovery, Tiasar. Dalton, has a point, and he will find it eventually. But, I, also have a few questions. Do you know anything about a Colossal undead abomination off the eastern coast? We fought it off, but I think someone might have sent it our way. Perhaps related, perhaps not, we seem to be being stalked by a fetchling bearing these symbols. They seem to be about shadows, chaos, and mind -- but we have not fully deciphered them yet."
Toramin holds up the book where he drew the symbols and their notes.
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Tiasar scoffs. "I am far from recovered, but I have found a way to mask the blight. It is...more manageable than before though." He arcs a brow at the mention of the undead abomination. "I know of that creature. It has been dormant for decades. Something must have roused it, not a good sign. A powerful controller of undead." He examines the images Toramin presents, then shakes his head. "These parts are clearly shadow and chaos, but the last one is not mind. It is loss of mind, insanity. However, their combination has no special meaning that I am aware of. It must be something personal."
Toramin carefully edits their notes.
"Thank you, Tiasar."
"You are correct, I did not call just to chat. Though chat is not a bad thing, is it? Sometimes, I feel we forget the pleasantries in life."
The mage patted-out a wrinkle in his robe. Magical in nature, it had the appearance of something quite more plain and had done well in keeping attention away from him. The time for that would soon elapse though, for he needed answers that would draw some heads.
"Aleannedlth. I have learned it is a potent arcane line of the elves. I've been doing some research here in the South, and apparently one of the nobles in that line developed precisely the type of modified fire I spoke of earlier. Skilled as you are and of the flesh yourself, I was wondering if you could answer two questions which burn at me, though perhaps not as strongly as that fire."
"Firstly, do you know if the rest of that line was talented in a similar fashion in using these intense evocations? I ask for many reasons, some personal, some business. However, I have cause to believe that power may come to revisit your region. Hostile or no I cannot say, but it would be good to know if there was some counterweight to such a potentially destructive force."
"Secondly: Malose. Does the name stir any chimes for you?"
Koriat walks into the room at Dalton's beckon and gives a surprised look. "Tiasar!"
Tiasar raises his brows and says flatly. "Koriat."
An awkward pause follows. After a few seconds Koriat breaks the silence. "How is the work in Andril going? I hear you've had your hands full."
Tiasar curls his lip. "I get enough false pleasantries with human politics, spare me. What are you doing with this group?"
Koriat gives a small smile and puts an arm around Dalton. "I've been reunited with my son. Not under the best circumstances, but better than before."
Tiasar looks in shock for a moment, staring at Dalton. "You? You have noble blood?" He gives a resigned look at Koriat. "You fathered a child with a human? You have changed, Koriat. I'm not sure if your banishment has changed you for good or for ill though."
Koriat sighs. "I hope it is for the better. I have reflected much on my life and actions the past half century and like to believe myself wiser than I was. I have taken many actions I regret, but starting a family is not one of them. Judge me on other actions if you must, but I stand resolutely behind them."
Tiasar studies Koriat for a moment, then nods. He looks less dismissive of Koriat than he was a minute ago. He turns his attention to Dalton.
"Koriat should be able to tell you that himself. The Aleannedlth is not known for mastery of one element or one school of magic. They have produced many powerful casters, but they don't follow a particular pattern. Koriat's fire manipulation is unique to his personal research, independent of his family."
"Malose. It has some abyssal roots, such as half and bastard. In an old text about abyssal hierarchy there was a half-fiend bastard by that name, but he was slain by his full-blooded brother before coming to power. I don't know if that's relevant in any way, he was a minor footnote in a largely ignored extraplanar war."
He has the best or perhaps the worst sense of timing.
"What was the other half? Also, I do not know much about Abyssal hierarchies, but are there not many demon princes? To which was this one related?"
"Specifically I could not say, but definitely some form of humanoid. There are many indeed, but this one was under a section dedicated to Orcus."
Dalton looked flushed after the interruption, his cheeks turning red. It was as if he'd been greatly embarrassed.
He did not look at Koriat straight away, though he did draw his gaze when he felt the arm around him.
"Evidently I do, though if nobility entails banishment and risking my hide on a weekly basis, I must say it's not my goblet of wine."
He inquired of those who brought Koriat back: "Did you manage to have the problem fixed?"
"Tiasar, I was unaware you two had a close connection, but there is a problem about Koriat beyond his ken. This "Malose" is somehow linked to it, a rather tenacious enchantment. I confess the school is quite not my specialty, and we seem to be helpless in uncovering its mysteries here. However, we don't intend to stay long. My colleagues and I have more business to do, and I imagine Koriat has places to be."
It was clear Dalton was upset with the precise problem he sought to obviate occurring, but he was delaying his reaction until after the scry ended.
Probably a human or a dragon. They get into that sort of thing.
"Was the murderous brother named?"
Tiasar takes a moment to examine Koriat. "You are right, he's under the effects of a rather powerful Geas spell. I can probably help, but not as this distance, as I have too many responsibilities in Taryin to be teleporting around."
"The brother was named Shaxranos, the living armor."
Toramin makes studious notes of what Tiasar is telling him.
"What sphere of influence does Orcus possess as a demon prince? What kind of relationship, if any does Orcus have with Lloth? Is Shaxranos still extant? If so where is his influence felt?"
Toramin thrills at learning more of the cosmos. Yet he is keenly aware that it is second hand scholarship. This knowledge was being fed to him by someone of greater intellectual gifts. Neither for the first nor likely the last time, Toramin regrets how the gods made him. He wished that he had the capacities to be a useful member of his family.
As well as wish for the Starstone. At least I have some use to my people.
Bjorkus is surprised to see Tiasar again. He nods to the elf in greeting before answering Dalton's query.
"Afraid not. The healer said it'd take magic like the kind the most legendary heroes wield to remove the curse the hard way but Ianna thinks wishcraft could do it too."
"Orcus is the Demon Prince of the Undead. He's also immensely powerful, even among the Demon Lords. With Lloth, the drow goddess? None that I know of. There is no account of Sharanos losing power. Do understand that the mortal notes of extraplanar history is spotty at best. Some of this information I only know because of my travels and personal research."
Tiasar exhales sharply at Bjorkus's comment. "Liandoli? If she could not remove it with that spell, I doubt I could. However I can employ limited wish if you have the funds for it."
The talk about Demon Lords goes way over Bjorkus's head and he doesn't much mind.
At the question of payment the bull shrugs and looks to Dalton.
"Not yet. Koriat is in no danger, and he has somehow lived for some years without issue under this spell."
Dalton was still not sold removing the enchantment was the best course of action, especially if someone so powerful was in the mix to cast it. I must know what I'm getting into here.
"You have been extremely helpful, Tiasar, and were I there, I would give you something to express my appreciation. However, I believe there is one more topic on which you may shed some light. Bjorkus has come into the possession of something which he has been asking about. I cannot divine any answers, and apparently the townspeople visited here are also somewhat in the dark about it."
The wizard gestured for Bjorkus to ask what he would about the sword. It is his, not mine, after all.
Ianna watches Dalton carefully. I expect he has some reservations as well.
"We were in Akropash recently and I picked up a sword off one of the slave princes there. Malan tells us it was forged in the blood of an ancient dragon named 'Shockaros' and used by him to conquer all of Yenrick before it was a soddin' desert. Any chance you know more 'bout Shockaros, his sword, or the legends behind it? We were thinkin' there might be some way to 'wake up' more of whatever power it used to hold but Malan said he'd need to study the thing to learn more."
"What is the history?"
Toramin had little patience for claims to knowledge but sparse details.
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Tiasar begins by accounting details the party already knows, although it does reinforce that their earlier information is correct. Then he continues. "Shockaros helped to plot the downfall of Gelrint the Wise. He was the one who gave the twin dragons Yulundar and Xarzith access to his sanctum, and as such incurred terrible wrath from the other metallics. Ornskriiod was a great silver dragon known for his patience and calm head, keeping the peace where others could not. But Gelrint's death roused a deep anger in him and he came down upon Shockaros with all his forces. After a terrible battle that cost thousands of lives, Ornskriiod drowned Shockaros in the ocean and left his corpse there to rot, along with his weapon. A century after the dragons left Erandor, sea giants came upon Shockaros's resting place and robbed his possessions, including the sword. It was wielded by their chief for a time until he was killed in a raid and it was passed onto an ice giant chief. It receded from note for a few dozen years before Targ came to power wielding it."
"That explains where Targ got it from at least", Bjorkus says. "Since I've had it something's been reaching out through the blade and tryin' to make contact. The dwarves in Dagin Kalp think it's askin' for help. Any chance it could be the spirits of one of these dragons in your legends?"
"In which part of the ocean does he rest? What color were Yulunar and Xarith? What happened to Ornskriiod?"
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"Hmm. If it is something that used to wield the blade, I would avoid responding to it at all costs. It has a long and bloody history. Targ is one of the kinder people who wielded it. It could also be some other force using the inherent power of the weapon as a focus to latch onto. In it's current state it is a powerful weapon, but nothing of the legend it was before. When it was restructured by Liamsho the power of old it used to hold must have been briefly tapped long enough for it to be noticed and used as a focus."
"Actually, that was Liamsho, Bjorkus."
"Does that mean the power it once possessed still exists somewhere in some form?"
Were there no female dragons, I wonder? Perhaps they were simply too wise get involved in such foolishness.
Ianna thinks primly, but watches her brother take notes. He has a keen and curious mind.
"We'll see what Malan's managed to learn. He's had it for a few days now", Bjorkus suggests.
Perhaps the sword is some sort of beacon . . . that would explain how how the undead thing found us.
"Thank you, Tiasar, for answering my questions."
"That sharing sounds more than fair for the information you have yielded. We appreciate your help."
Letting the others ask what questions they desired, Dalton then ended the scry.
"As Tiasar has said, father, there are few who remember the history of these dragons. They are too valuable to merely avoid." He looked at the man's youthful face. "Malan is one of those. He didn't seem keen to discuss you when we met him. Why?"
"I imagine it was because the last time we met it resulted in us trying to kill each other. Not to mention it's always a touchy subject when discussing somebody who has been banished. I'm not one of his favorite people, to say the least."
The answer was unexpectedly candid, though shallow in its exposition. "Banishment is not just accepted by all, but also instills a belief in its accuracy? Elven society must have a great deal of trust in its leadership."
Almost as a secondary note, Dalton continued with the main subject afterwards. "You were friends. Few friends try to kill each other. What was the cause? Money? A woman? A position of power? Perhaps a wheel of sharp cheddar?" The mage's mirth was partially out of annoyance at his father's terse mannerisms, but partially because he wanted to keep unorthodox responses from seeming too outlandish. There are more questions than answers here, and I'd rather not preclude the acquisition of the latter.
Rilka’s pen scratches across the page quickly, attempting to record Tiasar’s answers word-for-word. Malose...abyssal hierarchy...half-fiend bastard...slain by full blooded brother...Shaxranos, the living armor...Orcus is the Demon Prince of the Undead...
While Dalton and Bjorkus speak to Tiasar she takes a moment to check her writing, looking for grammar or spelling errors. Shackaros and his bastard sword..., and she continues to transcribe what Tiasar says to Toramin’s question. She does her best when it comes to spelling the dragon names.
Before the connection with Tiasar is severed, Rilka says, ”Thank you for your time and answers.”
As she looks at Koriat she thinks, A wish? Hmmmm. It’s like he’s been chained and locked with magic. How loose are the bonds? Ahhh don’t think that physical restraints are too similar to a gaes. It’s only figurative to help me think about it. There are other ways to communicate without speaking. Hand and body signals...even doing something like cooking is a bit like a narrative. Hmmm.
”Before we leave, I’d like to explore the library armed with these new names: Orcus, Shaxranos, and the dragons’."
"I found some passages that describe Malose, but I did not understand them. However, I did copy them, if you would like a look. I would go with you, Rilka, but I want to be here when Dalton contacts our employers. I note down everything they say, and share it without.
Tiasar had suggestions concerning the symbols. The one that Koriat believed had to do with mind has to do with the loss of mind."
"Dalton, it's time. We should contact Liamsho."
Koriat nods. "Even I know that I'm guilty. I think the reasons I did it was good enough, but I knew full well what the consequences were going to be if I was caught."
Koriat frowns. "Yes, we were friends long ago. He tried to kill me because he caught me stealing from his shop."
Having met both elves, Bjorkus listens hard to Koriat’s explanation for signs of some hidden meaning.
"How can you say that now? Last time we asked you, the curse prevented you from speaking of the attempted theft."
The variation bothered Toramin. Are we being hoodwinked?
Koriat remains silent.
"I think that was some kinda loophole in the enchantment", Bjorkus explains.
Frustrated, Dalton saw Toramin's request as the natural segue.
"Certainly. First though, a bite to eat."
The wizard entertained what conversation he could with his father, but he did not like all the lose ends that seemed to hatch like ticks on an ox. Perhaps Liamsho can put some to rest.
After he was finished, he began the scry as bidden.
Liamsho comes into view of Dalton's scry spell. He is in a small room filled with open books and a complicated circle drawn in the middle where he sits, flipping through two of the books. He looks up as Dalton scrys him. "Dalton. I feared the worst when you did not respond to the summons. What is it?"
"We are still alive and have more information to share. However, I think our stalker is still after us. A suspicious amount of weird stuff keep happening like being attacked by the largest undead I have ever seen."
Liamsho takes a moment of silence to process that information. "Ah. Well I know the council would be happy for your return, it seems they have much to discuss with you. Would you like to be teleported back?"
A businessman, he is. Not a shred of concern for us. At least he is understandable.
"Perhaps, if you can manage some more bodies. We have a few family members traveling with us. They are capable of holding their own, though one is recovering from an injury. I believe it would be most mannerly if they introduced themselves beyond the basics in this case.
Dalton turned to Ianna and Koriat, waving his hand. "Toramin's sister and my father."
"Hello, Liamsho, I am Ianna Trealamhgabha, a daughter of Bolka. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."