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The words that fly out of the elf's mouth are carefully considered by Kuro, who isn't much of a history man. He had just learned that the Kreen exist today, so he isn't in any position to dispute the bards story. regardless, Kuro tries his best to keep his mind on the bard, random thoughts and glances to their current Mistress will do him no good.
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Once Ja'far's get together with Memnom is finished, he notices through the corner of his eye Araska waving him over. He bows before Araska and Gaanon, squating just above the ground with the duo. "I'm not sure what's more entertaining, the elven bard's hubris or this strange cast of Characters? Tell me, what brings you two the employ of House Vordon? I've been busy in prayer and regretfully not as hospitible as I'd like to be, so I suppose now would be a good time to acquaint ourselves."
Ja'far notices Araska's bowl, he begins to grow nervous around but tries to hide behind his masked smile.
Just as Jaf'ar has made some progress in his attempt to negotiate this novel repertoire of personalities in which he has found himself, yet another joins the present assembly,
"Rays of the crimson sun, I believe we have met before in the courts of the Grand Vizier of Raam, the Sorcerer-Queen Alabach-Re. How have you come to be attached to this doom-seeking caravan?"
The voice, as he Ja'far quickly ascertains, is that of Husayn-el-Khanif, of the so-called 'natural eunuchs' of the Vizer's male harem. Husayn and his kind are so-designated because of the born sterility of muls, the half-dwarf race to which all the natural eunuchs belong. Unlike those that have been castrated, the natural eunuchs of Raam have lost none of their innate male strength and virility, while at the same the impossibility of their begetting children isolates them from the common life of the city and attaches them more closely to their sovereign.
But what possible circumstance could have removed him so far from the reserved literary salons of Raam's extensive harem?
His continued remarks offer no explanation,
"I have been audience to several of his previous, private performances for the Lady Almah, and I tell you friend, that I have come to believe he simply imagines these fables in the moment of their telling. I know that some of our company," he nods derisively at a curious paring of a male and female human covered in striking cloaks of chameleon hide, "are entirely convinced of the reality of the origins of all life of Athas in this supposed halfing civilization of the Blue Age, but I myself and quite doubtful of the whole matter."
Hasayn seems to turn the matter over momentarily in his consciousness before concluding,
"But what think you, and how have you found yourself here?"
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Slavathras continues speaking,
"This early student of the rhulisti Nature-masters was quietly resentful of their people's intrusion into the heretofore pristine paradise of the early kreen. These feelings of animosity were increased by the war between the Nature-masters and the Nature-benders, which caused widespread devastation in the early days of Athas. The subsequent alliance of the Nature-benders with the para-elemental clerics against the Nature-masters, and the accompanying overthrow of the world's balance, embittered this once eager student. He embraced the more powerful and violent arts of the Nature-benders, and turned their arts against both them and his original halfling teachers..."
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The bard then, based on a slight but noticeable alteration to his tone and intonation, seems to come to the heart of his story,
"When the rhulisti erected the Pristine Towers around the equator of Athas and destroyed the world in the deluge of the Brown Tide, this kreen, who was then known as Zak'chul, prepared his revenge. He gathered the banished Nature-benders to himself in the wastes beyond the Ringing Mountains and created from their number a cadre of champions to extirpate all non-kreen life from Athas, and made common cause with the Warbringer Rajaat. Though they knew they must someday themselves clash, yet the two dark lords set aside their differences of mind to pursue the common genocide of the races of the Rebirth. Zak'chul, like his ally the Warbringer, was brought down by several of his champions who realized that his new world had no place for them -- and who it is said either departed for the heavens to leave behind the failed life of this cursed planet or that their line continues among the few surviving rhulisti communities of the Savage Cliffs. Zak'chul, the Lifeshaper, the Father of the zik-chil, Darlguin the Shaper, is said to be imprisoned in the heart of the Crimson Savannah, awaiting his day to return and finish the mission of the Cleansing Wars, and thus return our world to the paradise of the Blue Age, when the early kreen alone lived upon the waters. It is his insidious power which is stirring the Empire of the Crimson Savannah to invade the east, for what ends only the Lifeshapers' shadowed mind can know. I tell you friends, we have forgotten his power, but shall know it again..."
[dice=perception]1d20+10
Alongside the unsettling realization about the vestments and origins of this strange elf, the name 'Zak-Chul' in his story causes a slight tremor to run through Tkk-Tkk's exoskeleton, exciting her racial memory.
The uncommon title is the singular of 'zik-chil' the so-called 'priest of change', and means something like the 'master of life' or 'lord of the living'.
Deep in the recesses of the kreen consciousness are shadowy apprehensions of an ancient power who held mastery over birth, death, and the shapes of the living.
Perhaps the tales of the bard have some connection to these memories of the early world, a fable that the mammals have concocted to pass on what they can of the truth.
She turns to keep focused on the story. It is fascinating to think of such power to create life. Still she knows that this story likely falls somewhere between completely true and completely wrong.
Sometimes I wish I could tell a bit more detail. Ah well, useless wishing gets us no further into the sands. Still at the end of the bard's tale, Shizuka starts clapping, his armored hands giving the noise a sharp edge. "Not a bad way to spend an afternoon."
At the Thri-Keen's movement, Shizuka frowns internally, his grandfatherly smile still on his face. Is that a longing for a fabled lost power? At Archer's words, Shizuka nods his head. "I too am curious as to if there is any substance to such a tale."
"Ancient tales are usually true and false mixed together. I had not heard such things before. But imagine a person that could bring a field to life as quickly as a sorcerer can kill it."
Memnon finds himself captivated by the bard's story, despite the insufferable attitude of the haughty bard.
Imagine that kind of power, to wash away the wretched sand and dust and heat of this world and drown it in a sea of green.
A audible whisper breaks out near Malkaer and Rokan,
"I cannot believe we are compelled to listen to such unbelievable drivel. This bard surely must imagine we are all gullible children. The kreen of the west are but savage tribes, and the idea, the audacious supposition, that they existed during the Blue Age - I really don't know how much more of this I can stand to hear, it really is insufferable."
The comment came from what looks like a Tyrian man with prematurely whitened hair arranged in manicured spikes and piercing violet eyes. His expansive, iridescent cloak of chameleon hide marks him as a figure of some importance, as the odd garment seems to be purposefully intended to attract notice.
He is speaking to a young lady, who is quietly attentive. Her long, auburn tresses and hazel eyes are framed by the same kind of distinctive cloak as that worn by the whispering man. She seems to nod I agreement.
After ignoring them at first Rokan lets his attention stray to the couple and gets a vague sense that he may have seen them before.
They have the look of people of Tyr, but Tyr has as many citizens as there are stars in the night sky.
Whether or not he knows them, Rokan decides to indulge their reaction.
"Interesting. I agree one should not simply believe that he knows what was, but how could another be so sure that a different account is right to know with certainty that he is wrong? If the kreen did not exist during the Blue Age, when do you believe they came to be in Athas?"
A audible whisper breaks out near Malkaer and Rokan,
"I cannot believe we are compelled to listen to such unbelievable drivel. This bard surely must imagine we are all gullible children. The kreen of the west are but savage tribes, and the idea, the audacious supposition, that they existed during the Blue Age - I really don't know how much more of this I can stand to hear, it really is insufferable."
The comment came from what looks like a Tyrian man with prematurely whitened hair arranged in manicured spikes and piercing violet eyes. His expansive, iridescent cloak of chameleon hide marks him as a figure of some importance, as the odd garment seems to be purposefully intended to attract notice.
He is speaking to a young lady, who is quietly attentive. Her long, auburn tresses and hazel eyes are framed by the same kind of distinctive cloak as that worn by the whispering man. She seems to nod I agreement.
After ignoring them at first Rokan lets his attention stray to the couple and gets a vague sense that he may have seen them before.
They have the look of people of Tyr, but Tyr has as many citizens as there are stars in the night sky.
[dice=Knowledge (local, Tyr), untrained, max DC10]1d20+4
Whether or not he knows them, Rokan decides to indulge their reaction.
"Interesting. I agree one should not simply believe that he knows what was, but how could another be so sure that a different account is right to know with certainty that he is wrong? If the kreen did not exist during the Blue Age, when do you believe they came to be in Athas?"
Rokan finally recollects the identification that had been prying at the edges of his waking mind -- the two are clearly members of an unusual guild known as the Rhul-Ty'ragi. They are a group of reclusive druids, hunters, and bards who tend the gardens of the Golden Tower in Tyr on behalf of Tithian. It is said they have great reverence for the rhulisti of the Blue Age and worship them in some fashion.
The two appear to be somewhat surprised at Rokan's intrusion into their conversation.
After a moment passes, the woman begins to speak, but is preempted by her companion.
"Our order has been blessed with a special knowledge sufficient to be sure that what this bard says is a lie. The Nature-masters of the Blue Age are assuredly the source of all life on Athas. I assume the kreen were created during the rebirth like all other races, but really it isn't worth arguing the matter in detail, this whole story is so ridiculous I assume any thinking person will reject it outright. The notion that they existed in the Blue Age is as ludicrous as that a vast empire of the creatures has heretofore remained hidden on the other side of the Jagged Cliffs. Sheer nonsense!"
He then seems to catch himself, and direct some attention towards Rokan,
"But who might you be friend, and on whose behalf are you inquiring about such matters?"
Kuro blinks, then looks at Tkk-Tkk, a curious look on his young face.
"Hm? Is any of this true?" he asks the Kreen, his foot tapping on the ground in restlessness at the bards tale.'just what the world needs, more genocidal kings and monsters...'
Dashki appears behind Kuro suddenly,
"What a bunch of nonsense huh? I hope with the next one he tries to make it seem like at least might be true."
Before Slavathras can begin again, Garavel makes an announcement to the assembly, having suddenly appeared, as if by some supernatural means, at the side of Lady Almah,
"We are closely approaching ancient Kalidnay, and any who wish to will soon be able to get a glimpse of the ruins from observation deck."
He then seems to catch himself, and direct some attention towards Rokan,
"But who might you be friend, and on whose behalf are you inquiring about such matters?"
He listens intently as the man answers. Interesting. Religion. And they are just as certain as the bard they resent having to listen to. This won't be a very enlightening conversation.
"I am simply Rokan, and I inquire on only my own behalf, simply for the curiosity of hearing your comments and wanting to hear more of what you know. I suspect there are more than these two theories on the matter."
He gives them one last chance to express some consideration to other ideas about the Blue Age.
After Garavel's announcement, he points it out as escape from the tale they reject.
"Well, if you don't want to listen to his account, we could head up to the observation deck to behold Kalidnay."
Slavathras appears somewhat take aback at the unexpected interruption, though he seems to control his reaction with an expertly-cultivated verve. He merely closes his plum-colored slips, pursing them into a tight expression that engaged most of the muscles in his chin. The bard's eyes seem to search those of the Lady Almah, who does not appear to regard him at all in the moment, but rather is focused on her mustachioed major domo who has just invited the guests of the audience hall to disperse.
Despite this pause, the moment her voice breaks the silence still comes as something of a surprise,
"I have heard many stories of my house's ancient home in Kalidnay, and would look upon the storied ruins with my own eyes."
She raises her arm in a welcoming gesture,
"Garavel, please have the servants arrange refreshments for the viewing, I do not want any to suffer in the stifling heat of the wastes just to seize a glance at the lost city. Please have the viewing lenses brought up from my quarters as well -- I want to get as close of a look as possible when we crest the dunes that surround the remains of Kalid-Ma's city-state."
Several servants clothed in red tunics bearing the black diamond sigil of House Vordon hurry to action to fulfill the lady's orders.
A sudden breeze pulls at the cowl surrounding Garavel's head, slightly revealing the black dome that emerges from his crown.
Araska waits until the Bard has finished his tale before answering Ja'far, so intent on listening to the elf weave his legends of history that Araska found herself leaning forward in her seat right up to the ending. Turning back to Ja'far as she leans back, she smiles and says, "Could you imagine it? Seeing that much blue? Heh... one can dream... As for why I'm here, the truth is I'm still figuring that out. The ruins sound amazing so I want to see them and maybe find some clues to something I've... inherited from the desert."
Turning her head to look sideways as Gaanon stands up, Araska answers Gaanon's question by standing as well, "Yes Gaanon, lets see the ruins," Araska turns to Ja'far and Husayn-el-Khanif with a gesture asking if they would join the pair of us.
Finding little comfort in the crowded courtyard and judging the bard's tale to be a bit confusing in light of the stories that he heard from childhood, Gaanon stood up, intent on making his way to the observation deck.
"You coming?" he asked Araska while taking note of the others who seemed keen to see Kalidnay in the distance.
Gaanon's movement is arrested by the sudden appearance of a familiar lizard-like creature who comes to a pointed stop before the half-giant's imposing presence. Quickly, he realizes that it is Cloudbreather, one of the traders of the Pterran villages of the Ringing Mountains who frequently visited Gaanon's tribe of escaped slaves and others seeking to flee the tyrannical rule of Kalak. From his recollection of these visits, Gaanon speedily summons the detail that Cloudbreather was a sort of tracker and scout who accompanied small expeditions of his people, guiding them through the dangerous passes of the Ringing Mountains, setting traps to shield the campfire at night, or even helping to fight off marauding bandits or monsters they might encounter in the looming peaks.
Cloudbreather cocks his head slightly to the right as he seems to also confirm for himself that he and the half-giant had met before. Probably, his mind is pouring over the same sort of memories as Gaanon, such as when the half-giant's tribe and the Pterrans of Cloudbreather's village had to join forces to drive off a marauding band led by a disgraced templar of Kalak named Heiro. Like the Gaanon, it doesn't take Cloudbreather long to make the right identification,
"Greetings half-giant, I believe we have met before when my people traded with Karvar's tribe in the mountains above Tyr. What has brought you to join this expedition of House Vordon? I would have assumed given their long history of raiding the free peoples of the Ringing Mountains for slaves, you would have kept a distance, unless they had changed their minds suddenly on the matter of the freeing of servants in the wake of Kalak's fall? I am exploring rumors of a long-lost Pterran settlement in the Giant's Rib Mountains near our destination."
The villages of the civilized pterrans of the Hinterlands are known as Pterran Vale and Lost Scale. In addition to the twin villages, a few smaller settlements are scattered around the area. There are approximately 10,000 pterrans living in the Hinterlands communities. Pterran Vale is by far the largest settlement, with 4,000 permanent residents. The pterrans live in lodges built over hollowed out pits. The lodges are made using bones and hides taken from the larger creatures wandering the Hinterlands, including mekillots and inixes. The pterrans farm, hunt, and raise herds. They are also fine crafters, making some of the best bone weapons and tools in the known world. Lost Scale consists of only 2,000 villagers. Originally, the community was established after the pterrans had a split along religious lines. Some continued on toward the Tablelands and became the primitive pterrans that still reside there today. Others settled the village of Lost Scale. The disagreements that led to the split have long since been settled, and today the two villages form the basis of civilization for the pterrans of the Hinterlands. The people of Lost Scale are recognized for their legion of pterrax riders. The best warriors of the village must travel far to the southeast to reach rocky badlands where the flying creatures reside. There, they search the canyons for pterrax eggs. Each warrior is responsible for securing one egg, and for raising and training the baby pterrax that eventually emerges. The civilized pterrans follow the same three Life Paths as their primitive cousins to the east. The Warrior’s, Druid’s, and Psionicist’s Paths make up the foundation of pterran society. However, the civilized pterrans have lesser paths as well. Farmers, herders, crafters, and traders are all honorable, if lesser, roles for pterrans to embrace. Still, the primary paths produce the society’s leaders and hold more prestige than the lesser paths. As in the more primitive pterran societies, the ceremonies and celebrations of their religion feature prominently in every aspect of pterran life. They revere Athas, the Earth Mother, and the Great Earthquake and subsequent aftershocks are believed to be a call to the Earth Mother’s children to get more involved in the affairs of the planet. To this end, explorers have been sent to the east to make contact with other civilizations. Diplomatic relations have already been established with the Free City of Tyr, and negotiations are under way with a number of adventurous merchant houses. Each pterran village is led by a Triumvirate, comprised of the eldest tribal member from each of the primary Life Paths. In smaller communities, the entire tribe is consulted before a decision is made, but in the larger villages the Triumvirate is empowered to decide for the entire community.
--The Wanderer's Journal
"Beyond the Ringing Mountains" Cloudbreather answers, fairly unhelpfully, and in a tone suggesting that he's not sure how the half-giant could have forgotten which direction the pterran caravans arrived from when they made their seasonal excursions. If Gaanon wants to know which of the settlements his former associate derives from, he will need to inquire again in a more specific manner -- the isolation of the pterrans from the rest of Tableland society makes them somewhat un-adept at anticipating these sorts of questions from new friends.
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Dashki appears behind Kuro suddenly,
"What a bunch of nonsense huh? I hope with the next one he tries to make it seem like at least might be true."
"History will never be completely true or false, Historians get things wrong all the time after all" Kuro says to the man, turn his head to give him a side glance. "...though in the end, I suppose it hardly matters whether or not the Kreen actually existed during the blue age, would that being true change anything about the present?"
he shakes his head with a shrug, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I prefer to keep my vision on the Present as much as i can, their are people that need help in the present and future, not the past"
Dashki appears behind Kuro suddenly,
"What a bunch of nonsense huh? I hope with the next one he tries to make it seem like at least might be true."
"History will never be completely true or false, Historians get things wrong all the time after all" Kuro says to the man, turn his head to give him a side glance. "...though in the end, I suppose it hardly matters whether or not the Kreen actually existed during the blue age, would that being true change anything about the present?"
he shakes his head with a shrug, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I prefer to keep my vision on the Present as much as i can, their are people that need help in the present and future, not the past"
Dashki grins as if he barely heard Kuro's wise words. For all of the matters in common the two hold from their mutual experience of orphanage at the hands of marauding gnolls, the cocky blond haired youth certainly has little of Kuro's measured approach to life. He often seems to barely think beyond his own sudden reaction, and is slow, is even able, to consider the diverse perspectives of others.
He continues speaking as if his associate had not even replied.
"Tremendous nonsense! I'm want to go get a look at this fabled ruined city I've heard all the House Vordon grandees prattle on about for the last week, longing for their supposed glory days under the rule of the sorcerer-king Kalid-Ma. It can't possibly be as great as their pining would make it out to be, but I want to see it all the same. What about you?"
He then seems to catch himself, and direct some attention towards Rokan,
"But who might you be friend, and on whose behalf are you inquiring about such matters?"
He listens intently as the man answers. Interesting. Religion. And they are just as certain as the bard they resent having to listen to. This won't be a very enlightening conversation.
"I am simply Rokan, and I inquire on only my own behalf, simply for the curiosity of hearing your comments and wanting to hear more of what you know. I suspect there are more than these two theories on the matter."
He gives them one last chance to express some consideration to other ideas about the Blue Age.
After Garavel's announcement, he points it out as escape from the tale they reject.
"Well, if you don't want to listen to his account, we could head up to the observation deck to behold Kalidnay."
The man with the pre-maturely aged white hair styled in curious spikes begins to depart almost immediately after Rokan has completed his invitation, but his brunette companion turns slightly to regard the monk as she also makes preparations to leave.
Her piercing brown eyes meet Rokan's own gaze.
In the same moment, a luxuriant voice blooms in his mind, at once soothing and insistent,
Pray forgive Dalman for his behavior, our order has been given much to ponder in the space of the last several weeks, and he is feeling unsure of himself. I sense from your accent that you are also a native of Tyr, and thus might know that we the Rhul-Ty'ragi serve the High Templar Tithian and his council, tending the gardens of the Golden Tower, just as we did under the recently-ended reign of Kalak. In addition to these duties, you might be aware that we take the Nature-masters of the halflings as a sort of spiritual guide, and that we study their legacy as its little surviving remains permit us. This interest can lead to archeological and scholarly pursuits. You of course are also probably familiar with the well known belief that Tyr stands on the site of the ancient rhulisti city of Ty'ragi, which was one of the great metropolises of the Blue Age. I can vouch for the truth of these legends, for their are extensive remains of the ancient halfling civilization in the deepest levels of Under Tyr, the catacombs that extend beneath the city, including the areas encompassing the Golden Tower and its gardens. However, we have recently discovered some evidence that... complicates our long-held views of the Blue Age. There was a relief discovered in a very deep cavern that seems to depict an entity other than rhulisti or kreen teaching both races. We are still attempting to decipher the writing that accompanies the image, and Dalman is already insisting that it is just a highly artistic depiction of the greatest of the halfing society - the Nature-masters. But I, and others, are not so sure... In any event, you must excuse him, he is understandably unsettled by this information. I think I will follow him to the observation deck to make sure he doesn't say anything untoward to our guests' chief performer, will you join us?"
"It is good that you are here,"[b] Gaanon says simply. [b]"Come. Let us see Kelmarane."
The usually stern and stoic warrior seems uncharacteristically enthusiastic!
Cloudbreather looks at the half-giant quizzically again,
"We're nowhere near Kelmarane yet, we're approaching the ruins of ancient Kalidnay friend. Are you sure you've recovered fully from that head blow the renegade templar Hiero's mul bodyguard gave you in the final battle? Almah's minister told us that literally thirty seconds ago."
"Ancient tales are usually true and false mixed together. I had not heard such things before. But imagine a person that could bring a field to life as quickly as a sorcerer can kill it."
"Indeed, imagine that."
Slavathras appears almost as if by supernatural means at the thri-kreen's side. He smiles slightly, moving his purple lips into a uncomfortable angle. His piercing orange eyes gaze with an intensity that seems to want to burrow into Tkk-Tkk's chitin.
"I must confess, that I had wondered what you would make of my little story. Truly, I find your kind just so very... interesting. Pray tell, from which tribe of the kreen do you hail?"
The blind man smiles at the thought of a green world. Perhaps there would be something of worth in the world. Or the wine would improve at least.
Hearing the man blabbering behind Kuro, Shizuka nudges the archer with an armored elbow. "He a friend of yours?"
The man with the pre-maturely aged white hair styled in curious spikes begins to depart almost immediately after Rokan has completed his invitation, but his brunette companion turns slightly to regard the monk as she also makes preparations to leave.
Her piercing brown eyes meet Rokan's own gaze.
In the same moment, a luxuriant voice blooms in his mind, at once soothing and insistent,
Pray forgive Dalman for his behavior, our order has been given much to ponder in the space of the last several weeks, and he is feeling unsure of himself. I sense from your accent that you are also a native of Tyr, and thus might know that we the Rhul-Ty'ragi serve the High Templar Tithian and his council, tending the gardens of the Golden Tower, just as we did under the recently-ended reign of Kalak. In addition to these duties, you might be aware that we take the Nature-masters of the halflings as a sort of spiritual guide, and that we study their legacy as its little surviving remains permit us. This interest can lead to archeological and scholarly pursuits. You of course are also probably familiar with the well known belief that Tyr stands on the site of the ancient rhulisti city of Ty'ragi, which was one of the great metropolises of the Blue Age. I can vouch for the truth of these legends, for their are extensive remains of the ancient halfling civilization in the deepest levels of Under Tyr, the catacombs that extend beneath the city, including the areas encompassing the Golden Tower and its gardens. However, we have recently discovered some evidence that... complicates our long-held views of the Blue Age. There was a relief discovered in a very deep cavern that seems to depict an entity other than rhulisti or kreen teaching both races. We are still attempting to decipher the writing that accompanies the image, and Dalman is already insisting that it is just a highly artistic depiction of the greatest of the halfing society - the Nature-masters. But I, and others, are not so sure... In any event, you must excuse him, he is understandably unsettled by this information. I think I will follow him to the observation deck to make sure he doesn't say anything untoward to our guests' chief performer, will you join us?
Rokan smiles back at her gaze and "listens" intently as she speaks into his mind. He attempts to convey an empathetic warmth as she does.
"Pardon my crude response, I'm not much of a telepath. I don't hold it against him for being on edge, and I didn't mean to press him. I simply enjoy intellectual explorations. I am from Tyr and I'm familiar with your order. I think your skepticism in your group's discussion of the relief is healthy. By chance, do you think you could describe to me what the teaching entity looked like?"
...The man with the pre-maturely aged white hair styled in curious spikes begins to depart almost immediately after Rokan has completed his invitation, but his brunette companion turns slightly to regard the monk as she also makes preparations to leave.
Her piercing brown eyes meet Rokan's own gaze.
In the same moment, a luxuriant voice blooms in his mind, at once soothing and insistent,
Pray forgive Dalman for his behavior, our order has been given much to ponder in the space of the last several weeks, and he is feeling unsure of himself. I sense from your accent that you are also a native of Tyr, and thus might know that we the Rhul-Ty'ragi serve the High Templar Tithian and his council, tending the gardens of the Golden Tower, just as we did under the recently-ended reign of Kalak. In addition to these duties, you might be aware that we take the Nature-masters of the halflings as a sort of spiritual guide, and that we study their legacy as its little surviving remains permit us. This interest can lead to archeological and scholarly pursuits. You of course are also probably familiar with the well known belief that Tyr stands on the site of the ancient rhulisti city of Ty'ragi, which was one of the great metropolises of the Blue Age. I can vouch for the truth of these legends, for their are extensive remains of the ancient halfling civilization in the deepest levels of Under Tyr, the catacombs that extend beneath the city, including the areas encompassing the Golden Tower and its gardens. However, we have recently discovered some evidence that... complicates our long-held views of the Blue Age. There was a relief discovered in a very deep cavern that seems to depict an entity other than rhulisti or kreen teaching both races. We are still attempting to decipher the writing that accompanies the image, and Dalman is already insisting that it is just a highly artistic depiction of the greatest of the halfing society - the Nature-masters. But I, and others, are not so
The strangely powerful yet calm tones of the lady's voice, who Rokan realizes has yet to reveal her name, once again erupts in his brain,
"It was a raised bas-relief in a deep cave in the lowest reaches of Under Tyr, which lies many thousands of feet beneath the Templar's Quarter and the King's Garden. It was found in a kind of temple or shrine in a cave with a small stream of water flowing through it, doubtless fed by some source in the surrounding mountains. The entity was exceptionally in comparison with the halflings, though that might not mean much outside of a society of such short creatures. It was thin and had very large eyes without pupils. It looked like it was offering a benediction over the assembled rhulisti and kreen, the latter of which had wings, just like in Slavathras' account. The entity's hand was raised in the center of a circle of kreen and halflings, and it seemed to be instructing them somehow. There was a curious disk above its head as well, and a ray of light extending from this object to the entity. It was all very curious. I think it shows it instructing the rhulisti and kreen of the Blue Age, but we will have to see what the results of the translation are if they can manage to penetrate the ancient halfling writing. This material is proving exceptionally challenging for some reason. Some even suggest the writing isn't rhulisti, but I find that hard to countenance."
Rokan considers the description for a moment and searches to recall the truly odd tales that he's heard in taverns and other random places.
"I have to be honest, that doesn't sound like a halfling depiction. I'm shooting in the dark here, but have you heard of avangions? The represent a path of ascendance that is the opposite of the sorcerer kings becoming dragons. Your description reminds me of depictions of them I have seen."
He then remembers his courtesy.
"Sorry, I didn't catch your name? Why don't we head up to the observation deck so you can check on your friend's mood."
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Rokan considers the description for a moment and searches to recall the truly odd tales that he's heard in taverns and other random places.
"I have to be honest, that doesn't sound like a halfling depiction. I'm shooting in the dark here, but have you heard of avangions? The represent a path of ascendance that is the opposite of the sorcerer kings becoming dragons. Your description reminds me of depictions of them I have seen."
He then remembers his courtesy.
"Sorry, I didn't catch your name? Why don't we head up to the observation deck so you can check on your friend's mood."
The voice continues to reverberate in Rokan's skull,
"I am Misra. As to your question about the identity of the figure, I had given this possibility some consideration. There is a widespread notion that the avangions are a new force in the world discovered by Oronis of Kurn to combat the devastating powers of the sorcerer-kings that are slowly draining the life from our planet. However, I do not believe this to be so -- I think the avangion advanced being transformation was always a part of Rajaat's plan. After the dragons had cleared the land of non halfling life, and then annihilated their kin, I believe the avangions were intended to terraform Athas back to the Green and then the Blue Age. In any event, given that the advanced being transformations have their origin in Rajaat, as far as we know, I am not sure how this entity, which presumably existed in the Blue Age, could have been an avangion. Perhaps the origins of the advanced beings are different than we had supposed? Much older? Maybe the avangions were part of the same plan to expand the life of Athas for which the rhulisti built the ring of life-shaping towers, of which the Pristine Tower is but one, in a girdle around the equator of the planet. I cannot say. There is another set of very obscure legends that the halflings are not native to Athas, as Savathras has just hinted at in his account of the early kreen. Perhaps the entities are allies of the rhulisti and arrived with them? There is no doubt much to think on. But yes, let us join Dalman before he potentially gets himself into trouble."
"We're nowhere near Kelmarane yet, we're approaching the ruins of ancient Kalidnay friend. Are you sure you've recovered fully from that head blow the renegade templar Hiero's mul bodyguard gave you in the final battle? Almah's minister told us that literally thirty seconds ago."Gaanon looks perplexed for a moment, then chuckles and shrugs. "I was hoping this journey was over and we had arrived... Kalidnay? What is this Kalidnay?"
[dice=knowledge (geography)]1d20+5
The Lost City State of Kalidnay
A great city known as Kalidnay once existed on the world Athas, ruled by the brutal sorcerer-king Kalid-Ma. He was noted for his strict laws, and even stricter enforcement. Even his own templars - men and women who served both as his enforcers and the city's religious leaders - were not immune to the law. Thus, Kalidnay had a reputation for being a harsh but fair city, unusual on Athas.
His most loyal templar was Thakok-An. A vicious woman, she retained her post by zealously enforcing all decrees and constantly extolling Kalid-Ma's virtues, appealing to his vanity. Singing the praises of her king was easy, since she desired him above all things.
The sorcerer-king of Kalidnay was unmatched in the arts of defiling magic (a type of spellcasting unique to Athas, where the caster draws life force from the surrounding area to power the spell). He was so strong, in fact, that the sorcerer-kings of the other cities feared him and plotted to kill him.
Thakok-An learned of their plot. Instead of telling Kalid-Ma about the plan, Thakok-An instead chose to save him herself and thereby earn his undying devotion. Maddened by the thought of losing him, she turned to the books of arcane lore stored in the king's palace, learning how to speed the process her king was already embarked upon - that of becoming a Dragon of Athas, the most powerful being on the planet. The price would be high, but she did not hesitate to pay it.
--The Wanderer’s Journal
Cloudbreather looks off to the direction of the company exiting the audience hall,
"The long-ruined city state of the sorcerer-king Kalid-Ma, former home of House Vordon. If you're curious, it's about to be visible over the dunes to the east, come friend half-giant, let's take a look."
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Hearing the man blabbering behind Kuro, Shizuka nudges the archer with an armored elbow. "He a friend of yours?"
He continues to give Dashki his side long glance, seeing no point in facing Shizuka when he is blind.
"yes, This is Dashki, he could learn a thing or two about keeping his foot out of his mouth. but i promise he means well..." Kuro explains, a wry smile on his face.
He continues speaking as if his associate had not even replied.
"Tremendous nonsense! I'm want to go get a look at this fabled ruined city I've heard all the House Vordon grandees prattle on about for the last week, longing for their supposed glory days under the rule of the sorcerer-king Kalid-Ma. It can't possibly be as great as their pining would make it out to be, but I want to see it all the same. What about you?"
"To be a sorcerer king is pure evil, the fact that some here yearn for the return of one speaks much of the present company..." he says to Dashki, still giving him a side long glance before his attention is inevitably taken by the Bard approaching Tsk-Tsk. He keeps his words to himself, but also stands at attention, he doesn't like the look she is getting from him.
"...."
Ja'far remains deep in thought for a moment, when it finally dawns on him.
"Yes, I could never forget a face. Husayn-el-Khanif, attendant of the Grand Vizier of Raam, the Sorcerer-Queen Alabach-Re."
He sits on the floor, placing one leg over the other. Ja'far ever so slightly begins to float in the air, his gaze locked upon the Husayn-el-Khanif.
"I could very much ask you the same question, we're both some distance from Raam. I figured one such as yourself would remain in the great harems, acting as the eyes and ears of Alabach-Re. What do you see here Husayn? Why does Alabach-Re send you here? Raam is in unrest and we both now she's no fool. Does she require my services again?"
Ja'far looks quickly to his companions and then back to Husayn."As for what I believe and what I know, even I have secrets that will remain like ancient ruins of these lands, lost to the sand. Not even your harem tricks would loosen me up." He said with a chuckle."What I can tell you is this, Alabach-Re didn't require me anymore, so I roam wherever I must go, where the great crimson sun and the fires of this land guide me. As for the Blue age, this world is factured and damaged enough. Whomever could create vast oceans would only fulfill Rajaat's desires, there is no telling if this power could be controlled or what damage it would cause."
His final statement was loud enough for Araska to hear it as well, he looks over to her and nods. He floats higher in the air, stretching out his legs and finally places himselfs gentle onto his feet.
"Ancient tales are usually true and false mixed together. I had not heard such things before. But imagine a person that could bring a field to life as quickly as a sorcerer can kill it.""Indeed, imagine that."
Slavathras appears almost as if by supernatural means at the thri-kreen's side. He smiles slightly, moving his purple lips into a uncomfortable angle. His piercing orange eyes gaze with an intensity that seems to want to burrow into Tkk-Tkk's chitin.
"I must confess, that I had wondered what you would make of my little story. Truly, I find your kind just so very... interesting. Pray tell, from which tribe of the kreen do you hail?"
She is not about to tell of home to one who may hunt them. "I doubt you would know my tribe, we have faced much hardship and are few in number." Switching subjects, she continues, "The wonders of the Blue age are truly amazing. The power to spread life is a gift that boggles the mind. But while these tales are inspiring, we must live within the world we know."
Before heading to the observation chamber
Ja'far remains deep in thought for a moment, when it finally dawns on him.
"Yes, I could never forget a face. Husayn-el-Khanif, attendant of the Grand Vizier of Raam, the Sorcerer-Queen Alabach-Re."
He sits on the floor, placing one leg over the other. Ja'far ever so slightly begins to float in the air, his gaze locked upon the Husayn-el-Khanif.
[dice=fly/hover]1d20+5"I could very much ask you the same question, we're both some distance from Raam. I figured one such as yourself would remain in the great harems, acting as the eyes and ears of Alabach-Re. What do you see here Husayn? Why does Alabach-Re send you here? Raam is in unrest and we both now she's no fool. Does she require my services again?"
Ja'far looks quickly to his companions and then back to Husayn."As for what I believe and what I know, even I have secrets that will remain like ancient ruins of these lands, lost to the sand. Not even your harem tricks would loosen me up." He said with a chuckle."What I can tell you is this, Alabach-Re didn't require me anymore, so I roam wherever I must go, where the great crimson sun and the fires of this land guide me. As for the Blue age, this world is factured and damaged enough. Whomever could create vast oceans would only fulfill Rajaat's desires, there is no telling if this power could be controlled or what damage it would cause."
His final statement was loud enough for Araska to hear it as well, he looks over to her and nods. He floats higher in the air, stretching out his legs and finally places himselfs gentle onto his feet.
"Well, let's just say my tenure as one of the 'born-eunuchs' of the Grand Vizier ended... sooner and more suddenly than I might otherwise have anticipated. And now I have found myself in the need of fashioning another manner of supplying my daily wants and requirements."
The luxuriant material which makes up Husayn's deep sapphire tunic suggests that he has been successful in this endeavor about whose details the mul appears to be at present somewhat evasive.
"In any event, here I am now, attached to this expedition, like you, and somewhat curious about the strange mix of fellow travelers. It is my understanding that the Lady Almah belongs to one of the familial lines of House Vordon that have fallen on difficult times, what with the abolition of the slave trade in Tyr, You see, our host and her immediate kin were the chief attendants of this part of House Vordon's trade. While Kalak ruled, it enriched them immensely, but his unexpected death has cast them to the mercy of their confederates, who well remember their savage dealings when they had enjoyed a higher status within the house. And so the Lady Almah has been dispatched to attempt to resurrect the ancient trading post of Kelmarane, and find for them a new source of revenue."
She is not about to tell of home to one who may hunt them. "I doubt you would know my tribe, we have faced much hardship and are few in number." Switching subjects, she continues, "The wonders of the Blue age are truly amazing. The power to spread life is a gift that boggles the mind. But while these tales are inspiring, we must live within the world we know.""Ancient tales are usually true and false mixed together. I had not heard such things before. But imagine a person that could bring a field to life as quickly as a sorcerer can kill it.""Indeed, imagine that."
Slavathras appears almost as if by supernatural means at the thri-kreen's side. He smiles slightly, moving his purple lips into a uncomfortable angle. His piercing orange eyes gaze with an intensity that seems to want to burrow into Tkk-Tkk's chitin.
"I must confess, that I had wondered what you would make of my little story. Truly, I find your kind just so very... interesting. Pray tell, from which tribe of the kreen do you hail?"
"Yes, indeed my chitinous associate," the elf nods smugly, "we must each live within our separate known worlds. And it is most remarkable how greatly the extent of that domain differs from one to another."
Tkk-Tkk receives the definite impression that Slavathras is unfavorably comparing her own knowledge to his assumed wider experience of Athas' many mysteries.
The elf continues on a path to follow his mistress, who has herself almost exited the audience hall. His mellifluous conversation continues unabated, despite his back now being turned to the kreen,
"But no matter this, for I, too would see the fabled towers of lost Kalidnay. Maybe some of the legends will even end up being true..."
Hearing that there might be a better view outside, and not being particularly engaged in any conversation right now, Memnon heads outside unto the balcony to see what he might see.
As he gets outside he sees someone he has heard referred to as 'archer' by several others. He had not paid him much mind as of yet but as he looked at the man, the last few years seemed to fall away and he thought he might knew this man.
''Pardon the interruption if you will, but are you Kuro of Amlitkayek? Kinsman it is I Memnon Bash'ra. How are you? I have not seen you in several years.''
Memnon exclaims excitedly as he approaches the man from his village and the other his Kinsman spoke with. He offered them both a short bow in greeting.
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"Yes, indeed my chitinous associate," the elf nods smugly, "we must each live within our separate known worlds. And it is most remarkable how greatly the extent of that domain differs from one to another."
Tkk-Tkk receives the definite impression that Slavathras is unfavorably comparing her own knowledge to his assumed wider experience of Athas' many mysteries.
The elf continues on a path to follow his mistress, who has herself almost exited the audience hall. His mellifluous conversation continues unabated, despite his back now being turned to the kreen,
"But no matter this, for I, too would see the fabled towers of lost Kalidnay. Maybe some of the legends will even end up being true..."
Kuro lets his gaze narrow slightly at the bards attitude and words. he doesn't enjoy how passive-aggressive Slavathras is being. Adding to that, he's obviously making Tsk-Tsk uncomfortable. Kuro just doesn't see what the man has to gain buy alienating the Guard detail.
"...what was he even trying to gain with that conversation...?" Kuro asks his two acquaintances, Tkk-Tkk and Shizuka as they slowly move to follow the crowd.
Hearing that there might be a better view outside, and not being particularly engaged in any conversation right now, Memnon heads outside unto the balcony to see what he might see.
As he gets outside he sees someone he has heard referred to as 'archer' by several others. He had not paid him much mind as of yet but as he looked at the man, the last few years seemed to fall away and he thought he might knew this man.
''Pardon the interruption if you will, but are you Kuro of Amlitkayek? Kinsman it is I Memnon Bash'ra. How are you? I have not seen you in several years.''
Memnon exclaims excitedly as he approaches the man from his village and the other his Kinsman spoke with. He offered them both a short bow in greeting.
Memnon see's Kuro's shoulder's and back tense up when his name, his REAL name. Shizuka and Tkk-Tkk both see the boy close his grey eyes for a second, as if preparing himself for something he isn't comfortable with doing.
Kuro turns, a neutral look on his face, his eye's flash blue however as he calls on a drop of his mythic power to keep a straight face.
"Are you speaking to me? I am simply Archer, I do not know this Kuro"
The blind man shrugs, the well meant smile meaning little to Shizuka. Doesn't matter much to me, many speak more than they think. As for the sorcerer kings, everyone wants power plain and simple."
Snorting as the elf leaves, the blind man waits until he's outside earshot before mumbling, "That man's more irritating than a handful of hot sand stuck in one's breeches. Also, he's a pompous ass." Considering the archer's question careful, the man's response is measured. "The world is cruel, and tends to make cruel people. Not to mention, he's let knowledge inflate his sense of worth. Besides, for all we know the elf just enjoys mocking Thri-Kreen."
At Memnon's approach, the pit fighter waves, before noticing the change in Kuro. This is interesting. Maybe I should give this exchange some attention.
"Yes, indeed my chitinous associate," the elf nods smugly, "we must each live within our separate known worlds. And it is most remarkable how greatly the extent of that domain differs from one to another."
Tkk-Tkk receives the definite impression that Slavathras is unfavorably comparing her own knowledge to his assumed wider experience of Athas' many mysteries.
The elf continues on a path to follow his mistress, who has herself almost exited the audience hall. His mellifluous conversation continues unabated, despite his back now being turned to the kreen,
"But no matter this, for I, too would see the fabled towers of lost Kalidnay. Maybe some of the legends will even end up being true..."
Kuro lets his gaze narrow slightly at the bards attitude and words. he doesn't enjoy how passive-aggressive Slavathras is being. Adding to that, he's obviously making Tsk-Tsk uncomfortable. Kuro just doesn't see what the man has to gain buy alienating the Guard detail.
"...what was he even trying to gain with that conversation...?" Kuro asks his two acquaintances, Tkk-Tkk and Shizuka as they slowly move to follow the crowd.
Memnon see's Kuro's shoulder's and back tense up when his name, his REAL name. Shizuka and...Hearing that there might be a better view outside, and not being particularly engaged in any conversation right now, Memnon heads outside unto the balcony to see what he might see.
As he gets outside he sees someone he has heard referred to as 'archer' by several others. He had not paid him much mind as of yet but as he looked at the man, the last few years seemed to fall away and he thought he might knew this man.
''Pardon the interruption if you will, but are you Kuro of Amlitkayek? Kinsman it is I Memnon Bash'ra. How are you? I have not seen you in several years.''
Memnon exclaims excitedly as he approaches the man from his village and the other his Kinsman spoke with. He offered them both a short bow in greeting.
The blind man shrugs, the well meant smile meaning little to Shizuka. Doesn't matter much to me, many speak more than they think. As for the sorcerer kings, everyone wants power plain and simple."
Snorting as the elf leaves, the blind man waits until he's outside earshot before mumbling, "That man's more irritating than a handful of hot sand stuck in one's breeches. Also, he's a pompous ass." Considering the archer's question careful, the man's response is measured. "The world is cruel, and tends to make cruel people. Not to mention, he's let knowledge inflate his sense of worth. Besides, for all we know the elf just enjoys mocking Thri-Kreen."
At Memnon's approach, the pit fighter waves, before noticing the change in Kuro. This is interesting. Maybe I should give this exchange some attention.
[dice=SM]1d20 + 8
The battle-wear pit fighter finds his initial skepticism overcome by the resolute tone of the young man. Surely, what he is saying is true. The one called Memnon is clearly mistaken.
Memnon sees that Shizuka has greeted him and waves back but somewhat disintestedly. His eyes never leave the archer in front of him as he continues to gaze at him with confusion.
Maybe I was simply mistaken? The resemblance is strong but it has been several years since I've seen him. Maybe he's just a gifted liar? Why the secrecy if that was the case?
Memnon broke eye contact with archer,shaking his head for a moment as he decided it did not matter. He could not be sure this man was lying and so he let it go.
"I apologize my good archer. I mistook you for someone from my village. I've been away from home and they might have been aware of its destruction so I got excited." He says by way of explanation as he offers a nod of his head in apology.
Memnon sees that Shizuka has greeted him and waves back but somewhat disintestedly. His eyes never leave the archer in front of him as he continues to gaze at him with confusion.
[Dice=Bluff]1d20+6
[Dice=Mythic Power]1d6Maybe I was simply mistaken? The resemblance is strong but it has been several years since I've seen him. Maybe he's just a gifted liar? Why the secrecy if that was the case?
Memnon broke eye contact with archer,shaking his head for a moment as he decided it did not matter. He could not be sure this man was lying and so he let it go.
"I apologize my good archer. I mistook you for someone from my village. I've been away from home and they might have been aware of its destruction so I got excited." He says by way of explanation as he offers a nod of his head in apology.
Upon on the observation deck, Rokan greets Dalman again, hoping the smooth over the interaction that led to his abrupt departure.
"So, Dalman, what stands out to you about the ancient city?" Actually, he realizes, he's not really so good at navigating others' sensitivities, but carrying on in civil conversation will have to do.
Rokan himself looks in particular for what buildings and structures are still standing after all this time.
Memnon raises a hand in greeting to the half-giant and nods in answer to his question.
''It grieves me to say kinsman but yes, our village is no more. Sacked by slaver scum, many were killed and more taken away to be sold.''
Not least of all my dear sister. Meanwhile, her devoted brother has been helping the same kind of scum to find her.