In the center of the world there stands a tower, impossibly tall and seemingly untouched by the long millennia which have passed since its creation. An azure sheath of translucent force keeps all would be interlopers at bay.
At the foot of the tower there rests a building carved from the same white stone. The olde magick that protects the tower does not reach out around this structure and it bears the scars of age and repair. Its back wall rests against the barrier and its two side walls are plain and windowless. The southern wall is marked by a set of twelve foot tall darkwood doors with a circular cold-iron symbol affixed to them. Inside lies a single room, twenty feet wide and thirty feet deep. In the center of the far wall is a twelve foot tall stone archway, filled with the azure field of force. Above it, a six foot medallion of pure mithril is set into the wall, displaying the same symbol as the outer door: three concentric pentagons circumscribed by a circle.
To the left of the portal is a large bookshelf housing ledgers with the names of thousands of brave men and women who have who have undertaken to enter the tower over the centuries. To the right, an identical shelf stands with only a single ledger resting on one shelf; it is rumored to contain only a single name, the only person ever to exit. In the center of the room there is a large wooden desk. Behind it a marble Inevitable gilded in gold silently sits unblinking.
As the darkwood doors swing closed behind the bold adventures, the Bookkeeper's head begins to move. It scans from left to right pausing on each person for only a moment and then its booming, monotone voice rings out: "Come forward seekers and record your names in the Ledger."
After this declaration, the Bookkeeper falls still and silent once more until, one by one, the wizard, the priest, the undead-slayer, and the twins step forward and sign. With each signature, the Bookkeeper adds the date in a second column, and the signer feels a wave of magical energy wash over them and coalesce into a single part of the body. Further examination reveals that the Seeker's Seal has appeared on each of their bodies like a dull gray tattoo.
After the other four have completed the process, young Wulfric, the porter, steps forward. The Bookkeeper closes its ledger and announces in the same booming, monotone voice: "You are not yet ready."
Wulfric smiles sheepishly and offers, "well, I was already here... I figured it couldn't hurt to..."
His words and movements suddenly stop as he stands frozen in place and the Bookkeeper begins to speak again: "Seekers, to enter the Tower you must first attune yourselves to its magic. Travel to the four Anchors which bind it to this realm. The magic therein will manifest as trials and as you overcome them attunement shall occur. When you have attuned to all four Anchors return upon New Tran and the entrance to the Tower shall be opened unto you."
"...try, right?" Wulfric concludes a moment after the Bookeeper finishes, apparently unaware of any pause.
Gavin is silent in the room with the Tower's guardian, lost in thought.
Once the group is back outside, he shifts his bright yellow tunic enough to reveal and examine the new markings. The dull grey tattoo sits above his heart, between neck and shoulder.
The older man strains a bit to see it, but after some poking and prodding, seems to determine that it is harmless.
"At least it matches the beard." he says with a smile.
Turning to the others, he continues "It would seem that we have some travel ahead of us, and are up against the sun, as they say. It would be wise to make our arrangements and leave today." he concludes, looking to the others.
When the mark appears on the back of Fenrick's left hand. He stays stone faced as the bookkeeper talks. He is interested in stealing a glace at the other bookshelf, but knows it is too dangerous to upset the bookkeeper.
When we get outside, Fenrick looks at Gavin, I believe you are correct. We do not have long to meet this quest and it would be a shame to miss this New Tran. He looks at his tattoo. This feels interesting... I wonder... He casts a quick cantrip to inspect it more. This tattoo is not my ideal, but it does seem to be magical. Divination magic to be exact. Fenrick looks at The Witness who is an expert in these things.
Lyra had the pleasure to be the twin to visit the tower. "Kind of awe inspiring" she whistled softly. "I wasn't sure..." she had hesitated mightly at the book, looking up and asking without words. Whether it was real or imagined, she felt the bookkeeper answered with a nod, so both Seth and Lyra got their names in the book. "... but it turned out okay, did it now?"
After a quick inspection, her mark is on her chest, on the right between breast and shoulder. As she examines, she thinks aloud "My brother's more than likely will be on the left side, mirrors and all."
"Where did yours appear?" asking the Witness, curiosity spiking in her a bit.
"Come forward seekers and record your names in the Ledger."
The Witness deftly scribes his moniker in Ancient Tel’Aeth. Is this what you were after, Parson? I wonder... He scans the names above his entry before stepping back to allow his fellows to sign, and shortly his attention focuses on Wulfric and the porter's strange paralysis. Interesting.
The Seeker's Quest officially underway, the wizard's mind begins to work in earnest. Wheels within wheels spin into motion, calculating probabilities of likely Anchor sites, distances and elevations, estimations of time required and remaining before New Tran.
"Yes, arrangements. I will need to travel the circumference of the Tower once before we leave. Most likely we will head south while Wulfric heads north." He cocks his head slightly and looks at the back of Fenrick's hand. "Divination indeed. The mark acts as a compass to the Tower and Its Anchors. As for my own, Pigeon..." The wizard pulls back his hood, revealing the symbol emblazoned just above his brow.
"It's very close to mind."
"You mean to part ways with our guide? I had grown rather fond of fresh game when we travel. What task do you propose for the good man?" Gavin asks, as they circumnavigate the exterior of the tower.
Her eyebrows raise at the prominence "No hiding that in a polite conversation is there?" she smiles and listens to the rest "We have to personally travel to each Anchor, correct? So yes I second Gavin's question, why send him away?"
Wulfric musters most of a smile and answers, ”Thanks, Gavin, I’ve grown rather fond of you making me tea every time we have to stop and wait for you.”
Turning towards the witness, he seems plagued by the same question that’s on Lyra's mind. ”My job is to go where you hire me to go—and, you know, care for your animals and selves and whatnot—but, uh, I’m with the birds on this... if you need to get somewhere quickly, shouldn’t I be guiding you?”
As they converse, the band of Seeker, and their porter, slowly walk around the circumference of the Tower, stopping momentarily from time to time. This is not nearly the oddest thing they have done at the Witness’ cryptic leading.
"As I stated at the time, Wulfric, I was not slowing us down. I was correcting our pace. Time, tea, and travel should never be rushed." the old man responds with a grin.
"And his tea is worth it, Wulfric, so shush" Lyra adds, offhand, but with a grin, as she runs her hand against the wall of the tower.
Her hand comes close to the barrier, close enough to feel a charge in the air, but not close enough to be killed. "I can't wait to see what is inside" the shut in child in her still aching of adventure.
I don't know, I am more of a coffee kind of person myself. Even with though you have traveled with Fenrick for a short time, you have learned that he starts every day off a nice hot pot of coffee.
But if I am going to be drinking leave juice, I have to say, Gavin has the best I have tried.
The Witness makes no move to stop the Pigeon's movements towards the barrier.
”Guide us you shall, Master Porter. What I propose is this: We Seekers travel south today to Tokelua by way of Tzekal, while our guide starts towards the northern forests. I believe the ruins north of Tokelau which I studied in my youth to be the South Anchor, and have solid estimates and reference points for the locations of the East and West Anchors. My knowledge of the northlands, however, is relatively limited. With our trusted steward in the region, I can scry upon him, allowing me to attempt our instantaneous translocation to his immediate vicinity once we’ve completed our attenuation to the other three Anchors.
"I believe Gavin can communicate with Wulfric at range daily to provide or receive any important updates. Ideally we could complete our quest within five days, though I estimate a more likely timeframe to be seven to eight days. Barring any unforeseen difficulties or arcanospatial navigation errors, of course."
The wizard tips his head back to gaze up the seemingly infinite height of The Tower, the blue sheath of energy eventually blending with the vault of the heavens.
"I would prefer not to wait another nine years, Pigeon." His gaze returns to his companions.
"If my proposal achieves a quorum, all we need to begin is someone familiar with Tzekal willing to barter for their memory. Easy enough to find in the city at the center of the world, for one skilled in the social arts."
Wulfric appears to grow concerned as the Witness lays out his timeframe. ”Uh, how far north are you looking for me to go?”
The young man gazes north, even though the Tower obscures any actual view in that direction and, after a moment of thought, he continues, ”It’ll take me a little bit to get out of Korryn, but I think I could probably make it to the edge of the Great Wood in five days... if I really push it I might be able to do that in four, but once I enter the forest I can’t afford to push myself that hard...”
CASTING
Casting Time 10 minutes
Components V, S, M/DF (fine copper wire)
EFFECT
Range see text
Target one creature
Duration 1 round; see text
Saving Throw none; Spell Resistance no
DESCRIPTION
You contact a particular creature with which you are familiar and send a short message of 25 words or less to the subject. The subject recognizes you if it knows you. It can answer in like manner immediately. A creature with an Intelligence score as low as 1 can understand the sending, though the subject’s ability to react is limited as normal by its Intelligence. Even if the sending is received, the subject is not obligated to act upon it in any manner.
If the creature in question is not on the same plane of existence as you are, there is a 5% chance that the sending does not arrive. (Local conditions on other planes may worsen this chance considerably.)
"This seems like a plan that could work out nicely, but if you feel those lands are too dangerous and are uncomfortable traveling alone, we can reconsider. Or, perhaps, hire a guardsman to accompany you?" Gavin says after thinking it over.
"We could be in daily contact and could offer a supplement to you per diem if that helps."
Pigeon turns away from the tower and looks to the Witness. "I had assumed you had a plan up there all worked out, just wanted to hear what it was." she gives him a nod of respect. She also smiles warmly at Gavin's concern "Alone and quiet or with guards and protected... or not at all. Your call, of course, Wulfric." she agrees with the elder cleric.
”Hey, if you can find someone else who could maybe cover a hundred and fifty miles a day, they’re more than welcome to join me,” Wulfric answers with a chuckle.
”It’s not danger that has me worried... I’m just not sure I can get where you need me to be in the amount of time we’re talking about. I don’t know what these Anchors are, but if this one’s as far north of here as Tokelau is south, the fastest I’d feel confident saying I could be there’d be... ten days... maybe nine if there’s not too much I have to go around...”
"Any ground you could cover would be less for us, and therefore quite helpful. It's agreed then, Do the best you can. We'll be in contact each day near sunset. Take this to help cover unexpected expenses," Gavin says, handing him a pouch with 100 gold pieces "and this, in case of unexpected encounters." he adds, handing Wulfric a small box of tea leaves and honey.
Before Wulfric departs their company, Gavin says a quiet prayer for his safe travel.
”Thank you,” Wulfric replies as Gavin gifts him some tea. He carefully stows it in his bag and then looks for a moment at his employers and friends. ”Safe travels, Seekers. I’ll head due north as quickly as I can until you catch up with me, or Gavin tells me to do otherwise. Unless there’s anything else you need from me?”
The porter turns on his heels and takes off running down the street. His expression and body language look like he’s jogging, but he moves at the speed of a full out sprint, and in moments has disappeared from view.
Gavin somewhat sadly watches Wolfric lope off, then sets himself to his own business.
Heading directly to the market, he begins to inquire about Tzekal, to both vendors and customers. Following as many leads as he can.
hours
It takes a few hours, and a stop at a stand serving salted pork on a stick, but Gavin tracks down a shop on the edge of the market that deals in exotic hardwood furnishings. It’s owned and operated by a group of Tzekali merchants who import their wood from the jungle there.
Upon entering the shop, a dark skinned man approaches and says, ”Welcome, welcome, what would you like to buy today?”
"Thank you kindly, good sir. While I can see that your wares are in fine order, they are not what has drawn me here today. I, and my companions, are in need of information. We seek to enter the Tower, you see, and find ourselves with a quest that would see us travel to your fair city. We have the means to do so in an arcane fashion, but lack a focal point for the trip." Gavin says, offering a deep bow before continuing.
"If you, or any of your kin, would be willing to endure the slight discomfort of sharing a memory with my friend here, it would be worth some remuneration. "
”Hmm,” the merchant replies with a chuckle, ”I have had many odd requests from you wizards over the years, but buying a memory is a first!”
”Everything is for sale at Maheem’s Exotic Hardwoods... tell me what this sharing will entail and I will give you a price.”
"Since Gavin is finding you your memory..." Lyra passes momentarily from sight behind something and Seth comes out "... I'll seek out supplies." a quick scratch of his bearded chin, and a sigh later he is off to gather what they might need.
The Witness dutifully follows several steps behind Gavin through the crowds. When the merchant voices interest in Gavin’s proposal, he steps forward.
”The process entails allowing me to look into your mind while you think of Tzekal. We’ll require a private area, free from distraction. You’ll need to think of someplace specific you’re familiar with and can call to mind in strong detail, preferably one where the sudden appearance of unexpected visitors won’t cause commotion. I may ask you questions to prompt memories of details I require. At the start you may feel an unusual sensation at my presence, but otherwise the process will be undetectable, and will take no more than nine minutes of your time.
“In trade I can offer gold or knowledge. I’ve studied at the arcane university of Lorea, and have acquired a deep familiarity with many topics both general and esoteric.”
The purveyor furrows his brow and strokes his chin for a moment. ”An arcane university, you say?” he answers, ”did they teach you how to make a man fly? My brother’s totem is the black-collared hawk and he has learned to take its form. He prattles on and on about how great it is to fly, and how sad it is that I can not experience this. If you make me fly I will give you a memory of just the sort of place you ask for.”
"I agree to your terms. I'll make you fly for the same length of time I need to share your memory - nine minutes." The Witness looks up into the sky. "The weather should give you no trouble. If you like, my associate can accompany you as a guide."
The Witness makes a chirping noise and a hummingbird darts out from the depths of his hood to hover in the air next to his head. "This is The Choreographer of Flowers. She's an accomplished flyer."
The merchant whistles and a younger dark-skinned man emerges from a door near the back of the shop. He instructs the younger man to cover his duties while he is gone, in Mbala, and then hurries for the door.
”Yes, sure,” he answers somewhat dismissively when offered the company a hummingbird and as soon as the spell is complete he soars of triumphantly. He passes overhead several times during the nine minutes that follow, each time his face aglow with a childish exuberance. When he finally lands he is grinning from ear to ear. ”I must confess, that was rather great,” he announces, ”now, for your memory...”
The Witness and the merchant retire to the dim recesses of the shop. Once settled comfortably the wizard draws out a copper coin, using it to trace patterns in the air before his face while intoning a few short arcane syllables. His senses expand, becoming aware of the merchant’s mind. Closing his eyes, he focuses this new sense, touching the surface of the man’s stream of thought.
”Kumbuka.”
Thoughts and memories of a garden begin to flow, words at first, an internal monologue. Murmuring questions in his subject’s native tongue, the thoughts slowly shift, shaping themselves into images, sounds, scents. At his prompting flowers come into focus, some he finds familiar from the gardens at Lorea; slowly he walks the man through the memories, along the garden path to his family home. A teak bough decorated with feathers hangs over the door in honor of the merchant and his brother, a well-worn trail leads from the door to the road, down which the heat and haze of Tzekal grows greater with every step.
Satisfied, he shifts his attention away from the merchant, briefly allowing his awareness to pick out the minds of those passing by the storefront before his spell’s effect ends.
”Thank you.” He stands and exits the store. ”I’m ready to attempt the first leg of our day’s journey, Gavin.”
Seth has noticed thier two casters rely on their magics quite a bit for their day to day lives, but Seth is pragmatic to a fault. He likes being prepared. Bedrolls, mess kits, canteens, trail rations, and a couple of lanterns. The basics of camping.
As the seekers move through the marketplace, following Gavin's fact finding work, Seth deftly secures all the camping and survival equipment he believes might be needed and tucks it into his handy haversack to be distributed if or when such need arises.
Gavin tops up his tea supplies and (faced with the prospect of create food and water as his only means of sustenance) collects another skewer of salted pork.
"Settled and set" Seth tells the others as he returns "If we hit one of those low magic zones, or your mirror takes a crack, we have bedrolls and trail rations for all." he has a flatbread slathored in honey and spices for himself at the moment, fearing the same thing Gavin is. "Are we ready?"
Fenrick sticks with Gavin through the marketplace, not feeling comfortable in crowds. His eyes shift suspiciously from person to person as we travel.
When Gavin explains the plan to get the owners memory, Fenrick is clearly unsettled. I hope that this magic he is using requires the person to be volunteer... He shutters at the thought of The Witness entering his mind.
The joy on the shop keepers face as he lands causes one of the rare moments that you see Fenrick's face break. He cracks a smile at the man having the time of him life. I might need to ask for that someday myself.
After the deal is made, and we ready ourselves for teleportation, Fenrick digs through his bad making sure everything is there... especially his new sack coffee grounds. I believe I am ready to leave this city. Though traveling to a new city doesn't delight me, if I am being honest. But all part of the job.
Once everyone’s ready, The Witness steps adjacent to his companions and holds out his hand, indicating with a nod that they’re to do the same. Once all four have clasped hands, he confidently utters an arcane command.
”Allons-y!”
The seekers feel a strange tugging, followed by the briefest moment of weightless nothingness, before a jolt like waking from falling in a dream snaps their sense back in order. The four stand in exactly the same positions, still hand in hand, but all around them the world has changed. The busy streets of Korryn's merchant district have been replaced by a serene tropical garden. Looming over the tops of the flower bushes to the west, the imposing dark stone buildings of Tzekal rise from the jungle.
A path leads from this private garden to a nearby road, but thus far there is no sign that anyone has taken notice of the visitors.
"That merchant has a good memory." If we have the time before New Tran, I should find out if he's travelled anywhere else worth bargaining for. "It would be beneficial for our return trip if I studied this place for a time; two hours will be sufficient." The wizard bends down to smell a flower, his hummingbird darting out from his hood to begin sampling the local flavors. "Gavin, perhaps you could make our introductions to the residents to avoid undue commotion? If they still reside here, the man's family may be interested to hear of his success in Korryn."
The Witness steps away to begin wandering the garden, The Choreographer weaving around him as she begins her mapping of the flora.
"Wander a beautiful garden and meet new people? I believe that's the most pleasant task you've ever set me to!" Gavin says with a chuckle. Looking to the others to see if they will be joining him, he starts his walk.
Truly taking in all the sights and smells, he occasionally calls out "Greetings! I am Gavin Soleques, priest of Sarenrae! Is anyone out there?"
The garden is not incredibly large and it takes Gavin less than a minute to locate the door to the large dwelling the garden belongs to. When he announces his presence a concerned woman looks through a small square portal cut into the beautiful hardwood door and answers, "Wewe ni nani na unafanya nini kwenye bustani yangu?!?"
No stranger to a language barrier, Gavin removes the impediment with a quick incantation.
"I'm so sorry, my good lady, that should be much better. As I said, I an Gavin Soleques, servant of Sarenrae." Gavin replies, with a deep bow, despite only being able to see an eyeball.
The woman gives Gavin something of a stink-eye and snaps, "and as I said, Gavin Soleques, what are you doing in my garden?!?"
"My companions and I were generously offered respite by your kin in Korryn. A Mr. Maheem, purveyor of hardwoods. He was kind enough to offer us a short rest here in the garden. We require a few moments to collect ourselves, and then we can be on our way. Tell me, fair Lady, whom shall we tell Maheem received us?" Gavin says, mustering all the grandfatherly grace he can.
"Maheem is not our kin," she barks, "he is Aapo's business partner... and if you are here on business then gold must change hands."
Moving her head around to see people lurking behind the priest she continues, "twenty gold pieces will buy you and your friends an afternoon in our garden, otherwise I will call my sons to come and remove you."
"A bargin was struck for our passage, but you are absolutely right that an afternoon in your resplendent garden warrants compensation. I would offer a counter proposal. I will happily pay the sum of 30 gold pieces for this afternoon in the garden and the understanding that we may be in need of it again in the future, in a similar fashion." Gavin offers, reaching for his belt pouch.
"Twenty gold or thirty gold, it makes no difference," the shrewd woman replies, "I'll still charge you next time too!"
"Then I graciously accept your first offer." Gavin says with another bow. "Thank you again for sharing this small bit of paradise with weary travelers."
Counting out the sum, he looks back to the door, "How shall I remit this payment?"