Auriëlle had expected a few restless nights on her route towards Sarren. To her own surprise, she slept pretty well. For only one night she had poked the burning wood of a campfire while coming up with what she would tell Sarren. In the end, she settled for her personal half-truth and every night she went to bed. When she entered the land of Vanhym she just kept walking around. Until Sarren finally found her.
His demon was by his side again. Though this time it had a bird-like beak. It wasn’t wet with blood though. “You’ve returned.” Sarren said, as he was patting the side of his demon-like it was an actual dog.
“I have. Safe and sound.” Auriëlle said. “I suppose we best sit down somewhere and talk.”
Sarren just offered her a nod of agreement and led the way into the bushes. They followed a small hunter’s path until they were deeper into the woods. Where she eventually reached Sarren and his two apprentices’ their camp. They all sat down and first began to make dinner. It was a simple rabbit stew. The meat was lean but good enough for something on the road. When the final bits of stew were passed out and consumed, everyone put their bowls down and turned to Auriëlle.
“There’s nothing special in Nallan.” She casually said, as she took the last slurp of her stew and put it down too. She was sitting on a fallen tree trunk. “Just another creep on a throne. I can’t tell you how many of that sort I’ve met.”
Sarren looked disappointed. The two apprentices relieved. “What about Parn? Is he in danger?” Sarren pushed on. Clearly the Servant wouldn’t just accept nothing was happening.
“He’s alright from what I could see. Very attached to his queen. And I really do mean very.” Auriëlle said, which wasn’t a lie. During her short stay in Nallan, she had seen how men looked at the queen. She could see that primal urge within them. It was so focused on Nalla that very few of them would give Auriëlle the time of day. Which had been a pleasant experience for once. “There were pots.” Auriëlle continued. Sarren looked up again. “They’re for preserving meat though. She’s quite ingenious in that way really. Salt’s so expensive. With those pots, she can keep meat fresh for much longer. I hope the runes of those pots will be spread out.” She noted absentmindedly as she poked the fire with a stick again. Mostly for her own amusement.
“Ah.” Was the only thing Sarren said for a long time. His apprentices apparently knew well enough what to do on their own. They gathered the bowls and went to clean them in the nearby creek. Sarren remained seated, looking at the ground. He had dispelled his demon dog some time before dusk had set in.
Finally, without saying anything, he got up and went to his tent. The apprentices each went to their own tents as well. Leaving Auriëlle free to lay down her own sleeping bag or walk away. It clearly didn’t matter to them. But it had mattered to Auriëlle. She had seen the same defeated look many years ago, when she was still doing odd jobs. It wasn’t the look of resignation. Tomorrow, when the sun got up again, Sarren would either look for someone else to discover the truth or go to Nallan himself. One thing was sure though: he wouldn’t quit. Which meant Auriëlle’s work wasn’t done yet.
When the moon was getting high again she pulled the copper knife from her belt. She had sharpened it for three evenings in a row. Quietly she walked up to the first apprentice’s tent and opened the flap. There she was, Surreth. Auriëlle remembered her name. The girl looked sweet and much too young to be camping in a tent in the middle of nowhere. She put the knife’s cold edge on her throat and with a single, inelegant but quick motion she cut the girl’s throat. Surreth jolted awake but Auriëlle covered her mouth with her gloved hand and pushed her down again. There was no real fight in her. Just moments later she stopped moving at all. A few seconds later all life vanished from her eyes as blood pooled beneath her. That was one.
Auriëlle crawled out of the tent and quietly went to the next apprentice’s tent. When she opened the flap, he was gone. “shit.” She whispered to herself. If there was even just one witness, they’d be on her tail. She tried to find tracks but she had never been the best of hunters. The dark night only made that harder. Especially when only the Purple Moon was high in the sky. Auriëlle skulked around the campfire until she heard a twig crack. She looked up and came face to face with Kannek standing in the nearby bushes. He spotted the bloodied, copper knife in her hand and opened his mouth.
The sorceress reached out with her powers. The nearest tree to Kannek lashed out with its thinner branches. Like a lash they wrapped around his throat. Choking him off. He grabbed the branch. Something sizzled and smoked in his hand. Auriëlle began to bridge the distance between them. The hold of the root weakened as fire ate through it. He was nearly free. Another branch grabbed his other arm. It didn’t matter. The branch around his throat broke its hold. He opened his mouth again. Then he tasted copper.
Auriëlle had jammed her knife through his throat. “I’m sorry.” She said. It was genuine. She did not derive pleasure from killing him or Surreth. But this was her one chance to have an actual safe home in a kingdom where she knew the crown’s dirty little secrets. She wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of that. Well…maybe one thing.
The life fled the eyes of Kannek very quickly. The branch that held him up released him slowly, so Auriëlle could guide his body down on the ground. Her blade was bent all out of shape. It would be cutting anything this night anymore. That was fine. When kannek was down on the ground she got up again and walked towards Sarren’s tent and opened it. There he laid, sleeping ever so peacefully. There was only one way she could kill him fast enough. She crawled up behind him and held her hand over his head. “Forgive me.” She whispered. To all things now. To the gods, to Sarren, to herself. Yet the necessity was there. She took a deep breath and summoned the power to her palm. Remembering that what she was about to use wasn’t fire. It was the most perfect manifestation of destruction.
The wave of disintegration traveled fast across Sarren’s body. The man never felt pain. All that remained were bones. Auriëlle didn’t release a tear but her heart wasn’t agreeing with what she had done. The cursed words of Oraelia echoed in her mind. Had there been a third option? Maybe that what she should have done all those nights. Ponder upon her options. It was too late now.
Outside the tent she began to dig a grave. Not with magic but with a spade. It would take longer. Much longer. But that was the goal. It gave her time to think. Would it even have mattered if there was a third option? What did it even matter? Maybe this was her choice. Yes, it didn’t always make her feel good. But neither did other people always feel good. In this life she had to deal with killing those who didn’t deserve to die. If she had been a farmer, she would’ve had to deal with hunger and the death of her children. There would always be something. At least with this life, she could work through the suffering.
By the time the sun was well and above the horizon, two corpses and a skeleton had been buried deep in a hole. The tents and everything they owned had been buried with them. The only thing that marked their presence were the carvings of Auriëlle in the three trees surrounding the overturned earth that she had covered with some moss and the fallen log she had sat upon. She told herself that she’d visit the place sometimes. Just like she would have visited the graves of those who fought and died in Jalka.
With her job done, she followed the hunting path back to the main dirt road and headed back to Nalla.
Auriëlle meets up with Sarren again. They travel to his camp and Auriëlle sells her lie. It was somewhat successful but Auriëlle realizes that the Servant will not lay the subject to rest.
She decides to kill him and his apprentices. Surreth, the girl, is killed first with a quick slit throat. Kannek has more trouble. He wasn't in his tent and spotted Auriëlle with her bloodied copper knife. Before he can scream, Auriëlle manages to choke him with a tree branch. Kannek tries to burn through the tree branch. He succeeds but he's literally a second too late. Auriëlle was able to jam her knife through her throat. Though in the process her knife is rendered unusable.
Finally she kills a sleeping Sarren by using her disintegration spell. When she's done, she digs a pit with a spade instead of magic and dumps the bodies and the whole camp in it. All the while she ponders upon Oraelia's words and what the goddess would think of her now. Finally she decides to go back to Nalla.
Post Length: 7.8K characters + 4 Prestige >> Auriëlle - 1 Prestige >> Auriëlle: Using Disintegration spell
The closer she got to the land of Nallan, the stranger the people became. Many villages had apparently bound together. Their chieftains swore fealty to the mysterious queen of the town. Her rise came with a fair few convenient deaths though. All who refused to bend the knee were found dead at night, with a smile on their faces. Then she reached the sphere of influence of Nallan and things shifted. People were happy. Bandits were a rare sight, peace reigned between the various tribes and villages and trade was growing ever more. Especially the closer she got to Nallan itself.
It was strange, yes. Especially the stories that Nalla was blessed by the goddess Neiya. After her own experience, she knew that wasn’t impossible. Hell, there were plenty of stories of the Sun’s Daughter improving a place where she stayed. So instead of stalking the place under the cover of darkness she just wandered in. The guards gave her a side-way glance but let her pass through the wooden gate. It really wasn’t a shithole like most other cities. For one there was a bustling market and stone paths in the town. That alone elevated it above all other places she had visited. Then there was the palace. It was big, far too big for the location. Though not as big as Ketrefa’s wall, it looked far too nice for the town. Maybe the ruler really did have even bigger plans.
But that wasn’t her business. Her business was with the local queen and the Servant named Parn, whom she guessed would be inside that palace. So with a leisure stroll she walked towards it.
The palace itself even had walls but this time, as she approached the gate, the guards eyed her suspiciously. One guard, wearing fine leathers with a large beard spoke as she neared. "State your business. Is the Queen expecting you?" His voice deep and gruff.
“I don’t think she would.” Auriëlle said as she stopped, keeping a respectful and safe distance from the guards. If only they knew who they were talking about. “My business is with an old friend of mine: Parn.” She said the lie without even a hint of disbelief. She did not move further. The two didn’t seem too keen on just letting anyone in because they knew a name. Still, it was worth a shot. The guard eyed her up and down then gave a side glance to the other guard, before nodding. The guard, a younger looking man, rushed off up the steps. Several minutes went by before the guard asked, "You a mage?"
She wasn’t about to reveal her trump card though. “No, sadly not. Never could learn a spell to save my life.” She offered with a kind smile. It was a lie but only because she had learned the demon spell just a few weeks ago. In truth she would never call herself a mage.
He gave a satisfied grunt and the conversation died. Before long footsteps approached and the guard was there, accompanied by two people wearing white robes. The gruff guard parted as they approached. One was a man with curly black hair and green eyes, the other a woman with muddy blonde hair and brown eyes. Both wore smiles on their faces. The man then spoke, "Please, follow us. The Queen would like to meet you."
“Okay..” Auriëlle slowly said. Did the queen vet all visitors? Did she even have time for that? From the way the town and the neighboring villages looked, Auriëlle doubted that. Someone had to be the steward of all those projects. Still, she there was no point in refusing so she followed the two, white robed servants.
Up the stone path they went, the pillars of the entrance looming ever ahead. The inside of the walls was void of any life except greenery, not even animals roamed and it was well kept. Through the pillars they came to the entrance to the palace proper, and just above the entryway way there was a massive symbol embroidered into a white cloth. A red heart with a crown, and a ruby eye at the center loomed down on her as they entered the shadowed halls.
They walked quickly and with purpose, going past many rooms. There were servants here and there, wearing the same white robes but most were empty bedrooms. Eventually a light shone through and they came upon a courtyard and a very peculiar sight. People made of plants lingered within. Two adults and two children. The adults were variants of green leaves and different leaves but the children, they were blood red in places running down their backs, arms and legs. And what could pass as their hair on their heads. One of them had a face also blood red in coloration.
She kept pace with the servants but managed to take in a few details. The heraldry itself was a clear indication that at least something related to Neiya was happening here. Perhaps the queen really was blessed. Inside looked as spacious as she had imagined, yet it felt cold and empty. The many unoccupied bedchambers put her slightly on edge. Did the queen expect a lot of company? Then they came upon the courtyard.
Auriëlle was stopped in her tracks when she saw the plant-creatures. Those things weren’t human. They weren’t near human. “What..are those things?” She asked, pointing unapologetically at one of the adults.
"Why that's Aurinia and Chio." The woman spoke as they both turned to look at Auriëlle. "With their newborns, Dion and Suria. Have you never seen Sylphi before?" She asked her.
“Sylphi? No. Never.” She wanted to talk to them, ask them where they came from. Did they come from the swamplands to the east? Or maybe from the sun-kissed planes to the west? Maybe they had come from beyond the great mountains to the south. She shook her free from the Sylphi’s spell and then walked up closer to the white robed servants. “We shouldn’t keep the queen waiting.” She said, trying to forget the plant-creatures. She was here on a mission. Maybe, if fate wasn’t as cruel as usual, she would be able to talk to the Sylphi later.
The servants gave each other looks before smiling and nodding. "Of course, we are nearly there." And they both continued walking.
Soon enough, past empty rooms in the long hallways, they came upon another entrance. Larger than the outside. She could see through and into the large chamber. Besides two large tables the room was as bare as everything else, besides the cloth that diluted the light.
It was very dim and as they got closer and entered she could see who sat upon a throne across from the entrance. A fiery head, almost orange in color, lightly tanned skin, soft features with amber colored eyes. A crown sat atop her head and a ruby choker seemed to peer into Auriëlle's soul. A man stood next to her wearing servant robes, he whispered into her ear but Nalla did not move her gaze from the newcomer. The servants then bowed before her as they brought the sorceress before the queen.
"We bring the one who wished to see Parn before you, Queen Nalla." The man said.
"Good. Leave us." She said in a commanding tone. They quickly scampered off and then they left the room, Nalla spoke. "Parn brings you here before me, yet he is not your friend, is he?" She asked.
Some of the stories said Nalla was beautiful but clearly they hadn’t done her justice. Auriëlle swallowed deeply when the queen commanded the others to leave her. She saw through the ruse. Which meant she might very well have walked straight into a trap. Yet she had seen no guards. Only white robed servants. Either the ambush was laid even better than Auriëlle expected or this queen really didn’t fear anything. Then again, Auriëlle didn’t feel the least bit inclined to make things messy. “I’ve been asked to check up on him.” She said, slightly surprised at her own honesty. “And on his queen.”
"And who asked you of this?" Nalla questioned.
“Sarren, one of the rainbow eyes.” She answered. Once again much too truthfully. Why was she answering questions so quickly without even trying to lie?
The man, who was most likely Parn, leaned down to whisper in her ear again. After several moments he stood back up and Nalla smiled. "What's your name? It's rare a sight to see someone with such beautiful hair in these parts."
“Auriëlle.” She answered but then her suspicion began to take over again. “What is happening?” It was a bashful thing to ask. Even though at this point it was a fair question. Still, years of defiance against any form of authority were pushing back against the authority that Nalla projected.
Nalla looked around before settling back on her. "Whatever do you mean, Auriëlle?" She asked with a bemused smile.
Something definitely wasn’t right. She squinted at Nalla, trying to figure out her deal. The choker was lovely and entrancing. It made her feel calm, yet there was at the same time a voice in the back of her head screaming that she should just run. There were no guards to stop her, she could literally blast through the door. “How are you making me answer your questions?” Auriëlle asked. Her voice wasn’t nearly as defiant as it should have been.
Nalla tilted her head to the side as she looked at her. "Making you? Not at all. I can't make you do anything. I'm simply asking common questions, why oh why would you not want to answer them? You did come here after all."
Auriëlle took a step backwards, even though in her heart she wanted to go forward. “Because…I was warned.” She wanted to swallow those words. Yes, she was warned. Tension rose in her chest. Why was she answering her questions? She had to get out. No she had to get closer. “Where is Parn?”
"Warned? What could she have been warned about, Parn?" Nalla asked, turning her head to look at the man next to her.
"I do not know, my Queen. But here I am, Auriëlle and I have heard many things about you from my brothers and sisters." Parn said, stepping forward.
Nalla spoke again, "Why would Sarren warn you about Parn and me? Is he fearful of progress?" She asked.
She took two steps forward again. Perhaps because there was nothing to fear or perhaps because she wanted to show that she wasn’t afraid. Her eyes turned away from Nalla and focused on Parn. He looked healthy, with no chains on him at all. Maybe she had him under some kind of spell. That wasn’t her battle though.
“He thought something strange was happening here.” Auriëlle said, as she kept her eyes on Parn to make sure he was at least physically okay. “And there is.” Gods she hated whatever spell she was under. Her gaze turned back to Nalla. “Sarren feared for the wellbeing of his brother, not progress.” She motioned at Parn. “But to me, he looks fine. So I will tell him that.”
The fact that the Servant knew of her had rattled her though. Had he seen Galdezor’s final memories? She had to get out of there. “I would like to request my leave now.” Why did she have to ask it, she could just leave! She was Auriëlle. Nothing could stop her!
Nalla frowned at that. "But you've only just arrived. You must be weary from your travels? Why not stay here, as my guest? You'll be well taken care of, that I can assure you." She cooed.
She swallowed again. Maybe she could stay and investigate the whole palace some more. There was still the Sylphi whom she wanted to talk to. And of course there was Nalla herself. Auriëlle had to know her full story about the young queen. “Very well, I graciously accept your offer.”
Nalla smiled again. “Excellent. I will have my servants prepare you a room and bath. You will join me for dinner and we can chat some more. Until then, feel free to roam the palace.” she said, clapping her hands. The two same servants came back in. “Oh and Auriëlle? Do be careful where you wander. The palace is large, you might get lost.” She said with a wolfish grin. “Now, Tirn, Yarce, treat our guest to the finest room and have her bathed.”
They bowed again and waited for Auriëlle to follow them.
The command to join her for dinner didn’t sit right with her. She had no authority over her! Alas, she couldn’t refuse either. So she just kept quiet as Nalla summoned her servants. A bath would feel good, maybe too good but she would still take it. After that she would use that permission to roam the palace to explore every nook and cranny. Even if she would find herself ‘lost’. Silently but without bowing to Nalla, Auriëlle followed the two servants to her room.
Down the halls they went until they arrived at a room far removed from the rest of the little commotion in the palace. Yarce led her in while Tirn kept walking. It was pleasantly furnished, with a fur bed, table with a chair and a small storage area with a white robe. There was a small window, more of an outlook into one of the courtyards, it had a wooden shutter but was open.
"I will take you to the bathing chamber when you are ready. Tirn went ahead to get the water ready. If you'd like, we can also wash your clothing." The woman said to her.
“Don’t touch my stuff.” Auriëlle snapped. Which surprised her, considering she couldn’t snap just a minute ago. “Wait outside. I’ll tell you when I’m ready.” Yarce, who had flinched at her outburst gave a solemn nod and left. She felt no more need for pleasantries. Especially not after what she was just thrown in. For a moment she peered out of the window into the courtyard. The sun was still out. Why had she been answering so truthfully to the queen just a moment ago? Worse, why did she agree to stay? If she hadn’t, she could’ve been outside the palace now. She could ride for a few days, find the nearest rainbow eyes and tell him to relay her message. That would’ve been it. Instead she was here, reading to get into a bath.
Luckily the queen hadn’t asked her if she was a sorceress. Now Nalla would assume she was just a helpless girl without her weapons. With that knowledge she undressed and put the robe on. She put her stuff in the chest, though sadly it lacked a lock. Then she stepped out of the room. “Show me the way.”
Yarce bowed her head to her and continued on. A relatively short walk later they arrived at a door. Tirn waited outside and nodded at Yarce. "You'll find everything you need inside. I trust you can find your own way back to your room, we have other duties that need to be done. Do enjoy your bath." Yarce said, flashing a small smile before leaving with Tirn.
The door opened to reveal another short hallway lined with torches and at the far end there was a glow of light. She ventured into the chamber to find herself with a pleasant view of the outside garden. Pillars kept the ceiling up and extended an overhang. There was a low wall that separated her from the outside world, but it didn't prevent the view from being enjoyed once in the water. The bath itself was a large basin of water with many different flower petals and other floral scents mixing around in it. There was also a bench next to the pool and some towels.
After checking all the pillars for potential ambushers, Auriëlle got into the water. It was pretty cold but that was to be expected. Still the whole room with the view on the courtyard was a magnificent piece of construction. She definitely hadn’t expected it in a place like this. In fact it made her think of Acadia. In the bath she ruminated over what she learned about the queen with her mind clear. She was definitely manipulative to a supernatural degree. The fact that she could instill a degree of obedience in Auriëlle was proof enough of that. But it didn’t look like she was actively dangerous or trying to harm Parn or anyone else. She was just peculiar. If she had a gold Ketrefian coin for every peculiar king or queen out there, she would’ve been rich beyond her dreams.
After the bath she returned to her chambers, where she found her stuff. Untouched. Sure it was dirty and after such a clean, nice bath the grim was exceptionally notable. Yet it was her gear. It shared her sweat and blood. When she was once more dressed like a traveling mercenary she began to wander through the hallways of the palace. The Sylphi were interesting but they were also put on display. Royalty liked showing off their best sides. Auriëlle refused to be distracted though. There were far more interesting things around. The palace, for one, was becoming much too nice for the region.
So she wandered through the hallways until she finally found what she was looking for. A stairwell, hidden in plain sight. Tucked away in a corner. Well, the queen had given her permission to go wherever she wanted. So she slowly began to descend down into the lower parts of the palace.
The air became cooler as she ventured down into the depths. The flight of stairs was long, lit by torches but she eventually arrived at a hallway. At the far end there was an entrance with more light. Voices could be heard within but the view only showed some tables. It was the only way forward.
She disliked the torches being lit. it made stalking in shadows so much harder. When stealth wouldn’t work, Auriëlle opted for brazen confidence. She was, after all, told that she could go wherever she pleased in the palace. Besides she was a sorceress. So she marched on forward, making no effort to make her footsteps silent, and headed for the entrance with the tables.
It was a servant room, where the white robed people were eating and chatting at tables that were hidden by the wall. When she entered, multiple heads turned to look at her, most with smiles, some with narrowing eyes. After a moment of intensity, and silence, they went back to eating and chatting amongst themselves, seemingly paying her no mind.
It wasn’t so unusual for servants to eat in a place hidden away. So Auriëlle paid them no mind. Instead she took a moment to observe the three corridors running from that main hall. She took the first one and continued on.
She ventured further in, no one gave chase to stop her. There were many more rooms lining the hallway, and all of them were shut tight. Only the dimness of torches gave any sort of light. There were many artistic pieces on the sides of the hallways, all having something to do with the color of crimson, a ruby and a heart. The symbol of the Love Goddess was also mixed without. She came across no one else as she passed junctions and other hallways. She eventually came to the end, and the hallways branched to the left and right. In front of her was a door ajar.
The door was too inviting to ignore. Slowly she approached it, making sure anyone who would be inside wouldn’t notice her. When she got close enough she peeked inside. The room was pitch black, even with the light from the hallway, it did little to illuminate what was in but there was a strange dripping sound. She slowly snuck in and closed the door behind her. When it was shut completely, banishing all light from the hallway, she held out her hand in the dark and created a flash of light, so she could see the room for just a second.
The flash did its work well, for she could see not only large collecting pots, the crimson liquid within them but also the pale bodies that hung above them, dripping with fresh blood from multiple deep cuts along their bodies. It was a mix of women and men all naked, eyes shut but with smiles on their faces.
The sight made Auriëlle jump backwards. Her back hit the door when darkness took over again. Had she seen that right? Then the smell hit her. That familiar, coppery smell. She outstretched her arm again and released a flash. Showing the pots and smiling…corpses? If they weren’t dead yet they soon would be. Why would the queen do this? Why was she collecting blood? Blood was only useful for one creature…
Auriëlle spun around and opened the door again. Blood drained from her face but raged through her body. Her heart was beating faster and faster. She couldn’t care less about the door. Her feet carried her back through the corridors. She had to get out, now! Before she had dinner with the queen. No, before she was the queen’s dinner.
Before her, from another corridor, she came. Walking slowly, she turned to face Auriëlle with knowing eyes and a smile on her face. She wore a low cut, crimson dress, ruby sparkling in the dim light. Her crown sat upon her head as always, and at her side, was a blade. “I did tell you.” she said, eyes narrowing.
Auriëlle eyes widened. Out of reaction she outstretched her arm. An orb of fire formed in her palm, ready to fill the corridor with flames. “This doesn’t need to end bad.” She said. “Not for either of us. You let me go and I will keep my mouth shut about what I saw in there.” Her heart was still racing in her chest.
Nalla tilted her head, looking at the flame before looking back to Auriëlle with another wide smile. She shut her eyes and then said, “Your heart is beating so quickly.” her amber eyes opened again, “Tell me, Sorceress, does it scare you? I would have thought one with your talent, would not be so opposed to grim realities.”
“I’ve accepted plenty of grim realities but I prefer not to die to one of them.” Auriëlle said. Her mind was getting clear again. Making her ready to fight for her life. For a second she thought of Oraelia. Would the goddess of light be proud of her behavior now? So deep in the ground? She was trying to make a deal with a vampire for her own life. Where was the third option now? Maybe she would’ve wanted Auriëlle to release the prisoners. That didn’t matter now. Not to Auriëlle. She just wanted to live. Everyone else be damned. “Just let me go and I will swear on Tekret that I’ll tell nobody about what you are or that you’re draining innocents of their blood.”
“Innocents?” Nalla scoffed. “No. If one is to maintain order in this world, one must rid it of the worst. Murderers, thieves, rapists… I could go on, but no, they aren’t innocent. Most anyway.” she began to walk back and forth. “Did you think I was going to harm you? Once again, no dear Auriëlle. I don’t harm that which is unique in this world. Not unless that which is unique decides to fight back.” she stopped and outstretched her arms at Auriëlle. “Now, won’t you eat something with me before you go?” she asked with a bemused smile.
“Wait.” The fire in her hand vanished, as Auriëlle lowered her hand. “They’re not innocent?” It was a surprisingly pragmatic way to get your blood as a vampire. Though it rested on the idea that there was always enough evil in her borders. Yet outside the walls she hadn’t seen any of the usual corruption or poverty. In fact Nallan was very prosperous and peaceful. “Well you would forgive me for believing you would kill me. Vampires are not particularly known for their restraint.” Even though she only ever heard of them from stories. “But seeing that you’ve got no interest in slicing me open then I might as well join you for dinner.” Not to mention that there would be delicious, hot food. Hopefully. Still, in the back of her head Auriëlle kept herself on her toes. Ready to strike should Nalla get any funny ideas.
“All is forgiven.” Nalla said, dropping her arms to her side. “Such stories… Do you know how cruel the gods have been to vampires? So much power, at such a price. No wonder all the stories paint us so cruelly. It doesn’t help that the white-haired woman slaughters us with impunity. Do you know of her? Hm, let us retire to the dining room before we continue our discussions.” she said, walking away before glancing back, “Come, Auriëlle.”
She led her up to the first level in silence. They turned down a set of hallways that led them past the throne room and up a flight of stairs to a second level. THere they came to an open room, much like the washroom, but higher up and facing the sunset. There was a long table with one end partially hidden in the shadows of a pillar. There was no one else there except for servants putting a modest amount of food on the table, all on one end. Nalla gestured to Auriëlle to take that spot.
Auriëlle took her designated place, though waited before the queen took her seat and began to eat herself. There was much to choose from. Meats and greens, and with refreshments. “A white-haired woman? No, I have never met her.” She said. “Though I have met a white-haired man. Carn. They could be related.” She noted. “But yes. Some of the gods can be cruel.” She looked at her own hands now. “Or careless.”
Nalla sat down in the shadowed end, pouring a dark liquid into a cup. She took a sip. “Carn?” Nalla said aloud. “Odd name but yes. I have heard rumors, of a white haired man and women, wandering the highlands, one doing great things, the other two with… Questionable motives. Has this Carn never mentioned this to you?” Nalla asked.
“I have a habit of not asking.” Auriëlle answered. “It made that life easier, most of the time.” The truth was that if she asked about his past, he could ask about hers and she wasn’t ready to tell anyone about Acadia. Nor did she want to tell Nalla Carn’s story. That was for Carn to tell should he ever come to Nallan. Then she dug into the food, keeping her silence and waiting the queen out. Auriëlle wanted to know what game she was playing. Because of course she was playing one. In a palace like this there was only one thing to do: scheming. Sadly, the sorceress was painfully inept at it.
"You were blessed by a God too, no?" Nalla asked suddenly. "Parn told me about your stunt at Jalka. How you vaporized that poor fool. Such power." She said, giving her a playful smile.
“Half-vaporized.” Auriëlle corrected. Even though she absolutely could’ve erased him from existence then and there. She kept her gaze on her plate. “And…yes. I should be blessed by a god. Or at least that’s what I’ve been told.” And so the dance continued. Except Auriëlle had enough of it. She looked up to face Nalla now. “Let’s skip the formalities now, shall we.” She said as she wiped a bit of chicken from her cheek. “And just ask me what you really want from me?” There was no tact in her voice or demeanor. However there was no outright hostility in her voice either. Just impatience.
Nalla leaned forward on the table, smirking. "I like that about you. Soooo… To the point. So hot blooded." She licked her lips and then laughed before leaning back in her chair. "Very well, I wish for you to work for me. I collect unique things after all, and you are up there my dear. It's no secret that I'm constantly expanding my borders, who better to lead my men then someone of your prowess?"
“Lead your men?” Auriêlle looked appalled for a second. “Half the time I’d be in these walls drilling a bunch of snobs how to wield a spear and I can’t even wield a spear myself.” She leaned back into her own chair with her arms folded. “Beside I suck at leading people.” Not a lie, again. The Redspears were fun to hang around with but they were Carn’s people, not hers. She loved fighting too much to get up and bark orders. Even when she spat out commands, they only followed them because Carn would make them.
“Here’s what I have in mind. I need a place to get back to when I need a break.” Which was about every five to six years. “A place that doesn’t yell at me or throws mud at me.” Both had happened in nearly every village she stayed at in the first years of her new life. “You give me that in Nallan and I will help with some of your wars. Not all of them. I’ve got other promises as well.” Her mind went back to Carn. She began to miss him but if she wanted a safe place for herself, she would have to earn it now. Hopefully he could wait another year. Hopefully. “And to start the agreement off, I’ll be the tip of your spear for a full year.”
“Deal.” Nalla said after a long moment of silence between the two. “Nallan will treat you as they treat their Queen. You will not need to teach them how to wield a spear, I have others for that. But you will learn to lead, through fear or respect, it matters not. I’ve a feeling if you fight with those you lead, they will come to respect you regardless.” Nalla smiled again at her. “As a show of good fortune, I shall give you a house in Nallan, unless you prefer to stay here, with me?” she said, fluttering her eyes.
Auriëlle’s heart nearly stopped beating during the pause. This was the closest she had ever come to a home. To a place she could go back to. When she heard the word, a small satisfied smirk formed on her lips. It would appear Nalla would not move from the subject of leadership. Maybe she would become a leader in the most literal sense of the word. She could stand in the vanguard, drenched in blood. Acting as an example for the rest of the army. Command and strategy would be for the wise men in their tents. Safe behind the battlelines. It would garner the army’s fear first and then perhaps their respect.
Then there was the choice between a house in Nallan or a room here in the palace. With the queen. Auriëlle pondered upon the question, letting the same silence Nalla had used reign. A house would be more spacious probably. Not to mention further away from people. Yet it would have to be tended for while she was gone. Which meant servants she wouldn’t trust watching over her stuff while she was somewhere far away. That wouldn’t do. “I think I’ll stay here.” She said with a coy smirk as she grabbed an apple. For a moment she pondered upon asking how Nalla was able to knock the inherent sense of disobedience out of her. Though she decided against it. It was her habit after all.
“So what’s my quarry?” Auriëlle sounded eager now. She had missed a good fight. She didn’t want to repeat the Jalka siege. This time she wanted to crush something thoroughly.
Nalla waved a hand dismissively, she then looked at Aurielle with a noble gaze. "Firstly, when home in Nallan and in this palace you will address me as Queen or Queen Nalla. Secondly, your attitude needs adjustment. You have hot blood which does well in most places but I will grow tired of it, that I assure you. Thirdly, you will have to go tell Sarren your findings here and then return to me. You did swear on Tekret you would, after all. Fourthly, there will be things you will not understand here at first, things that will make you question your worldview but you must realize, I do everything for a purpose and you will learn to accept that." Nalla then rapped her fingers on the table as she smiled again. "Do these things and I will tell you of the conquest that is to come. Do I make myself clear?" She asked sternly.
“Crystal…my queen.” There was still a slight hint of defiance in her voice. It made clear that Auriëlle would not be a puppet whose strings could be yanked whenever she desired. Even though she would dislike the forced obedience, her heart fluttered again at the idea of being on the battlefield. Other royals would either hide their sins away and appear perfect or carry their crimes like jewels. Nalla might be a manipulative, vampire queen that fed on her own criminals but at least Auriëlle knew that now. Nallan would be worth fighting for. Though she hoped, deep down, that she could convince Carn of that as well.
"Good." Nalla mused. "And do remember, I have more to offer you than the thrill of battle, if your heart so desires." She said cryptically, taking another sip of her blood.
Auriëlle travels to Nalla, where she remarks on how peaceful and prosperous the region around it has become. Instead of stalking the palace at night she decides to just enter through the front door and pretend she is a friend of Parn. Instead she gets an audience with the queen. Who asks a few questions which Auriëlle is forced (by Nalla’s crown) to answer. Nalla eventually asks Auriëlle to stay for a little while. The sorceress agrees because she was allowed to walk around the palace.
In the lower level, Auriëlle finds a room where dead people are drained off their blood. Which leads her to realize Nalla is a vampire. In her panic she tries to get out but the queen intercepts here and explains that she is draining criminals. Auriëlle, after some assurances that she won’t be killed, decides to join for dinner.
The queen and the sorceress discuss various topics like Carn, his family and Auriëlle’s power. Until Auriëlle cuts to the important bit and asks what Nalla wants. The queen wants her to lead her men into battle. Auriëlle refuses, saying that she’s terrible at leading and she would be training people half the time. In return Nalla says she will earn their respect through battle and that she already has people to train her men. Auriëlle eventually agrees to help out Nalla, though not constantly. She also asks for a place to come back home to after years of drifting. The two reach an agreement and Auriëlle’s first job is to take care of Sarren, the Servant that asked her to check up on Nalla and parn.
For once the road she travelled was familiar. It allowed her to return to her old mindset. Whatever happened in Ha-Dûna was nothing short of an embarrassment. The road back allowed her to return to her own mindset. Weakness might have been something allowed in the druid town but outside of it, it was exactly the thing that would kill you. Still, the words of Oraelia did not fall entirely on deaf ears. To protect those who were weaker than her, it seemed admirable. Kind. Yet then again, why would she do it? Those very same people always chased her out of the city. Fearing her magic. The sun’s daughter could do that because they loved her. How could they not? She healed and freed people. Did that make her as strong as Auriëlle? Someday she would have to find out. For now, she would hold to her promise to find Carn and the Redspears again.
So she went back to the area around Ketrefa, assuming he would remain in the vicinity. She heard whispers of the Redspears left and right. Their deeds in Jalka hadn’t been forgotten. Some even recognized Auriëlle in the inns. Her pale-scarred forearm had become a sort of mark for her now. Some were afraid of it, others asked her to tell her story. She indulged the latter, though left certain parts out.
Now she was on the road as a drifter again, rarely disturbed unless she reached a village. Chasing behind a group of people whom could really be anywhere. Like always, her highland stag just followed the road. Allowing Auriëlle to sink deeply into her own thoughts. Until suddenly she heard noises coming from the nearby bushes. She got off her stag and prepared to cast her sorcery in case bandits were stupid enough to attack her. After her encounter with Oraelia, she wanted to be a little more mindful of who she harmed and killed but for bandits, she had no mercy. One man, dressed in rags but with an axe in his hand, jumped out of the bunches but not at her. Instead, he jumped out a few meters away and ran away from her. Screaming all the way. Though not from Auriëlle. More rustling came from the bushes.
Then three…things jump out of from between the leaves. None of them looked like anything she had seen. They had the shape of a dog but with carapace armour on their back and black fur on their sides. Their tails were either compromised of several fleshy tentacle ones or that of a scorpion. One had his jaw split down the middle and open. Revealing its sharp teeth. Another had a normal, dog-like mouth but with three horns on its head. All of them had black shaggy fur with red eyes.
They didn’t howl at all. With her eyes she followed them as they ran behind the bandit and into the open field on the right side of the road. One caught the man by his leg. He fell amid the high weeds. Even though Auriëlle couldn’t see him anymore, she could still hear him for just a little while longer. Until there was nothing. Strangely, only a few moments after the scream stopped the dog-like creatures jumped back out of the tall weeds in front of Auriëlle. Their snouts were red and blooded but they clearly hadn’t eaten him.
“Stop.” A voice said. One demonic dog, the one with the split jaw who was slightly bigger than its brothers, sat down like a dog would. Three people emerged from the bushes. One had the tell-tale rainbow eyes. The other dogs didn’t move much further. “You’re in the lands of Vanhym. State your business.”
“No business. Just passing through.” It was what she usually said when she was stopped. This time around though, her eyes were drawn to the dog-like creatures.
“Interesting things right?” The Servant asked as his demeanor shifted to friendly. “I’m Sarren.” He said as he approached her, extending his right arm. Auriëlle didn’t really know why he was suddenly so friendly but decided to return the gesture. When they shook hands, the Servant caught a hold of her sleeve with his other hand and pulled it back. “Just as I thought, one of the heroes of Jalka.”
Auriëlle tightened the grip in her right hand and pulled the man close so she could grab his arm with her other hand. “Think very carefully before you tell me you’re an ally of Melok.” She said slowly, making the threat clear. The dog-thing got up and growled at her. “Oh it does make sound.” She noted.
“Sit!” The Servant commanded to his pet. It looked as if it was going to refuse for a second, but then obeyed. That couldn’t be said for the other two dogs who began to growl now as well. “Kannek, Surreth. Control your demons!” He commanded. The two much younger apprentices quickly called out to their demons to sit down. Both did, after several repeated commands. Then the Servant turned back to Auriëlle. “Vanhym is not an ally to Melok. Truth be told, we don’t really care about Melok. What we do care about is how you destroyed Galdezor.”
“You’ve heard about?” Auriëlle asked as she released the man’s arm. She sounded slightly surprised.
“All Servants around here have heard! Actually we’ve seen it! His last memory. That translucent wave of destructive energy! Gods what a power. We could only imagine it” The Servant sounded enthusiastic. “Is it true? That it’s a power that comes from Aurius?”
“I’m not sure.” Auriëlle answered truthfully. There was no sense in lying for now. Though she didn’t want to tell everyone she was indeed blessed. “It doesn’t matter, because clearly you can do things that I can’t.” She pointed at the dog-like demons. “I’ve never seen those things. Demons you call them?”
“Aye!” The Servant said as he walked back to kneel beside his split-jaw creation and knelled beside it. “Truth be told we don’t really know how they came to be. Someday one of my brothers just told me about them. He taught me the spell and well…now I’m teaching my own apprentices.”
“Mind if you taught me?” The Demonspell was literally the only spell she ever managed to learn. Though in all fairness, she stopped trying to learn spells after leaving Acadia. None the less, it appeared extremely easy to use.
“You ready to try it out?” Sarren asked.
Auriëlle was looking at the knife in her right hand. It was sharp enough. “Let’s do this.” The two apprentices brought the bowl of water. It was the size of any other bowl. Slowly Auriëlle let the blade cut across her flesh, drawing blood which fell down as a trickle into the water. Clouding it. She then held her other hand over the water and said the words of the spell with her eyes closed. When she opened them again, golden fire hovered over the blood-clouded water and then slowly but surely floated down into it. The water became brackish and dark. Auriëlle used the time to quickly bind the self-inflicted wound on her hand. The bowl, meanwhile, turned even darker until it seemed to just consume the midday sunlight. Then a red eye popped open. “What the…?” Auriëlle wanted to dip her finger into it, but Sarren quickly stopped her. Several more red eyes opened up.
“That would be a bad idea. That demonic mass would overtake you. I know because well…that’s what happened to one of my brothers.” He said. “Now draw some of the demonic flesh out and mould it like you would clay. But only with your mind.”
Auriëlle nodded and held her hand outstretched over the black liquid. Slowly she raised it like she would raise water out of a tankard. Until she had a respectable amount of demonic matter hovering below her palm. Yet the inky, eyed mass in the bowl didn’t seem to have shrunk a bit. Her attention turned back to the orb she held suspended in the air. With her mind she began to shape it, expecting it to push back against her. To her surprise, as long as she channeled mana towards it, it seemed fine with all her manipulations. Eventually, the shapeless mass had taken its form: that of a raven with two sets of wings. It had three eyes on one side, and one on the other and its beak was long and hook-shaped. Ready to tear out flesh. Slowly Auriëlle guided it over solid ground rather than the infinite mass in the bowl and dropped it.
To her surprise it collapsed like a broken bird. But then gathered itself and got up, without any broken parts. She also felt that faint link running from her to it. Not a link of mana, it was something deeper. Something more personal.
“You did good.” Sarren said. He said a few words in a language she didn’t know. Like one would smother a flame, he smothered the stream of mana running into the bowl. Instantly the eyes closed and never opened again. The inky blackness began to dissipate slowly. Until it was all water again. “I’d suggest you don’t keep your demon for too long. They can become greedy for your mana.”
Auriëlle was listening but not with all her focus on him. Instead she was looking at the majestic and only slightly horrifying bird that jumped on her arm. “I guess I won’t be naming it then.” She said.
“No, best not.” Sarren said. “You’ve made one but now you best dispel it.”
She nodded in agreement and said the few words that she was taught. The raven demon lit up in golden flames. Though it seemed utterly unphased by it. The fires worked fast, spread across it and turning every bit of demon they touched into ash. Eventually, nothing was left of it.
When the demon was gone Sarren turned to Auriëlle. “Now that I have taught you this, I can make my request.” He said, his voice becoming a little more serious now.
Auriëlle turned to face Sarren and frowned. “What does Vanhym need of me?” She didn’t like to be bound to thrones or crowns. Even though sometimes she had to, like in Jalka. Still, she didn’t like it and she preferred not to get tangled up in another problem.
“Not Vanhym.” Sarren said and then pointed at his own eyes. “Us, the rainbow eyes. There’s a land east from here. For the passed years it has been…strange. I used to hear about a brother there. His name is Parn. Lately he has been asking some strange questions about runes. Sometimes the questions are a bit too specific.”
“You want me to check up on him?” Auriëlle asked.
“Yes, and check up on that entire land. They say something has build a very big place there. And I really mean big. Local leaders are coming over to make assurances they say. Auriëlle, something is wrong in the land of Nallan.”
“Any suspicions?” She asked.
“Nothing concrete now. Maybe it’s nothing or just a very peculiar king but Parn is utterly mute of who he serves. That in of itself is not new. We talk to each other but sometimes we trust our lieges more than our own brothers and sisters. Still, I worry about him. We worry about him.”
“I understand,” Auriëlle said as she got up and walked to her stag. She did owe the Servants a favor and a small little detour before meeting up with Carn again wouldn’t hurt right? “I’ll visit this land named Nallan but only because you taught me something valuable.”
Auriëlle ponders upon what happened in Ha-Dûna, though she finds the experience as a whole very embarrassing. On the road back to the area around Ketrefa to find Carn again she encounters as Servant with two apprentices hunting a bandit with demon dogs. The Servant recognizes Auriëlle as one of the heroes of Jalka. Auriëlle askes them to teach her how to create a demon. The Servant teaches her but afterward asks for a favor in return. The Servant in the strange, eastern land of Nallan has been acting a bit weird and asked some very specific questions. The Servant suspect something is up and ask Auriëlle to go and investigate the place. She agrees.
Auriëlle was getting close to Ha-Dûna, though she suspected the route she was told to take had been much longer than it need be. Curse those damn travelers. Why did they have to send her all the way up the high, rocky hills? Eventually, she caught sight of the place from atop a cliff. After one look she already hated it. The fields were just thrown around with seemingly wild abandon. Then again, you had no choice in a gods forsaken place like this. From her vantage point, she could see the various peasants tending the fields and filling their granaries. She felt a little happier, knowing that she never had to live as a farmer. These days, if someone told her to pick up a sickle she would have burned a field before the day was over. At the center, she saw a sizable town and a palisade core. After that there was just forest. “Should’ve chopped or burned that.” Auriëlle muttered to herself. The forest would’ve given more even ground to grow food on. But this was the land of druids. They lived in peace and harmony with the world.
What a load of deeply spiritualist, complacent crap that was. Druids could help grow fields and talk to the wild-life. Why the hell would they choose to live here? Screw it, it wasn’t her decision. She didn’t have to suffer living here. She only had to be there for a day maybe. Hopefully less.
She took the slow and winding path down the cliff. The closer she got to the town, the more she was blending in with the common pilgrims visiting the megaliths of the gods. Auriëlle ignored everyone and began to wander around the town. The language was utterly comprehensible, even though she knew it Ketrefian influences. The accents made it sound like they'd thrown Ketrefian into a mangle grinder and then let it soak in pig fat. She kept away from the palisade core for. Something there just felt…off. She knew druids wouldn’t harm a fly but it felt like that was the problem. Perhaps worse were the children constantly running about and playing. There were just far too many of those things around. Finally, she found someone dressed like a druid.
“You, druid. I need some answers.” Auriëlle approached the druid with a rather brusque demeanor.
The girl Auriëlle addressed looked up. She couldn't be older than seventeen. “Oh, I’m not a druid. Just a simple apprentice. What can I do for you?” She said with a much too cheery voice.
“I need a druid. Like yesterday. I need answers.” Auriëlle said though she began to question why she was so harsh. Perhaps it was the place. It was playing tricks on her. Something was wrong here, she felt it in her skin.
The apprentice didn’t seem to be bothered at all though. Which only made Auriëlle feel even more bothered. “Not a problem!” She said. “Follow me, I will bring you to the main hall where you can meet a druid.” With enthusiasm and almost a skip in her steps, she led Auriëlle through the palisade gates. “And these-“ She said as she spun around and swung her arms open, with the great stones of the gods behind her. “-are the megaliths!” She spun around and began to point out each one and which god it was dedicated to. When the stood amid the dolmen, she turned to Auriëlle. “Why do you require a druid?” She asked as she guided Auriëlle towards the courtyard with the megaliths.
Auriëlle was about to say that it was none of her business. Except it was her business. “I've got questions about the gods. The questions are-” It were questions she didn't trust with a city's priest. "-sensitive." She answered as she kept her eyes on those carved to the likeness of Oraelia. “Wonderful! I will notify the concerning druid. Please wait here.” The young girl said.
Auriëlle nodded in affirmation and began to walk around the courtyard. The tributes to the gods were stunning, even she had to admit that. She recognized some, like Oraelia who the druids called Reiya. Other had been foreign to her until she had talked to a druid, about a year ago. Like Mascal and Seeros. Though she saw the great stones more as a testament of how powerful mankind was. They had raised those stones, not the gods.
“A druid will talk to you when he has the time. Should you require a place to stay, the hall of the weary always has a bed free for a pilgrim such as you. Perhaps I could show you?” the apprentice asked, with a gentle, caring smile.
Auriëlle didn’t trust it. Druids talked to animals. What if they had a snake in her bed already? There was no reason to suspect they wanted her dead and druids rarely hurt anyone. But then again she probably sinned against half their rules in the last seven years already. “I’ll stay here.” She said with a very short tone. “Thank you.”
The apprentice let out a small sigh and walked away. For a few minutes, Auriëlle felt alone and good. A stranger amongst the other strangers waiting in the courtyard. Either marveling at the megaliths or waiting for a druid to talk to them. Auriëlle kept pacing between the rocks. This place was having a strange effect on her. The air was too thick. Like it tried to suffocate her. It wasn’t just that. It was the general niceness. People were smiling, handing out food and water like it was nothing. They were so friendly. Having lived alone, then with Carn and his mercenaries and then on the road alone again had made her suspicious of anyone who helped others too much.
“A cup, my lady? It’s water from the basin of the weary.” The apprentice returned holding a wooden cup in her hands, offering it up to Auriëlle. The water was see-through and thoroughly pure. “I assure you that it will do you much good because… well, apologies for my directness but you seem gaunt. You must have been traveling for-“
“I don’t want your water!” Auriëlle snapped as she slapped the cup out of the apprentice’s hands. The outburst garnered a lot of attention. Guards armed with spears approached. Auriëlle took a deep breath. “Bring it.” She whispered to herself. Ready to cast her magic and erase those guards from existence. Consequences be damned. At least she would feel good for one bloody moment in the place.
Yet as she was making herself read, the apprentice held out her hand to the guards. “No need, no need.” She slowly said as she picked up the cup from the ground. “I-I think I have been a bit to insistent.” She told the guards. They shared a look. Auriëlle knew it well. “I assure you, I’m fine. I don’t think our guest means any trouble.”
It took every fiber in Auriëlle's body to shake her head.
“Very well then. Return to your post, brave guards.” She told them, and they did. The attention wore down. Still, the apprentice approached Auriëlle again. “Apologies if I gave any offense, my lady. I meant none. I just-“
“You wanted to help." Auriëlle cut her off. “I get it but I don’t need your help. I never had any help. I just need a druid and answers.” Auriëlle didn’t look the apprentice in the eyes though. Shame began to eat her up alive. They meant no offense. No pain. The apprentice only offered comfort. She was just being nice.
The girl backed away and seemingly returned to her duties. The guards kept an eye on her, as did several pilgrims. She didn’t care. All she had to do now was to sit down on a bench and wait until a druid came to see her. Hopefully, that would happen soon.
Hours passed. Pilgrims were met, guided inside and waved off again. The sun had long since reached its peak. The courtyard was becoming empty as the shadows grew long. Many of them retreated into the resthouses. Farmers outside returned to their cottages. Only a handful of guards remained outside. Them and Auriëlle, who hadn’t moved from her bench.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep at one of the resthouses? I can ask around. Surely some of them would still have a nice, comfortable bed.” A now familiar voice said behind her.
Auriëlle turned to face the apprentice. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“I don’t.” She said with a slightly self-assured smile. “Kaer Harla says that’s one of my strengths. I never give up.”
Auriëlle let out a sigh. Just her luck. She talked to an apprentice who never knew when to quit. “What’s your name?” Auriëlle asked.
“Sennah.”
“And you’re an apprentice. You druid apprentices have to serve people, right?” Auriëlle continued.
“Yup! It teaches us many of the druidic values!” the apprentice answered.
“Good. Then serve me this way: go home and get a good night’s sleep.” Auriëlle said.
“But-“
“No.” Auriëlle was using the same tone she used to use on the Redspears now. “Go. Home, Sennah. Be with your parents. Or the one you love. Stop trying to help a bitter girl like me.”
She looked as if she wanted to protest again, but then quickly turned around and walked away.
Auriëlle let out a deep sigh and stretched herself out over the bench. Maybe she could close her eyes for a little while? Just to let her body rest. She did so, let her body relax for a moment. It felt good. Until she janked up again. She didn’t hear the usual hammering of smithies or gambling going on. No the courtyard was just completely quiet. Which was just wrong. It was the wrong place to even close your eyes. So she got up again and waited. No druid would talk to her now, probably. Yet she still waited.
Boredom soon caught her. Auriëlle began to walk around the courtyard. Inspecting the megaliths one by one. Eventually she sat down against the one of the World Tree and faced those of Gibbou, Oraelia, Mascal, and Seeros. She let out a chuckle. “Dear Oraelia…” She began in mock prayer. She even held her hands together. Though her eyes remained wide open. “Is this the life you had envisioned for me? Or did you never look my way? I’m not sure what would be worse: my life going exactly as you planned or you just not caring. Maybe it’s according to one of the other god’s plan? I don’t know.”
She then turned to the megalith of Gibbou. “Do you hate me now for being up this late? Druids told me you like it when people sleep at night. Maybe you just pity me. I know your druids do. They might think I can’t see them peering with those sad little eyes of them. Can you see in my head what I want to do to those eyes? If so, can you see all the other things as well?”
Then she turned to Mascal. “They say you made the world beautiful. Colorful. Vibrant. Happy. Those are the words they use for you. I don’t see it. They say you love dancing. I’ve never danced. Maybe it's you who cursed me that fateful day. Tell me Macsal, are you in the habit of dumping obelisks?” As if in answer, Auriëlle could hear the wolves howl outside in the wild. Above she could swear the inky colored sky moved a little faster. Though she chalked it up to coincidence.
It was all mockery. Pure mockery. As if the gods would respond. Though she then turned to the megalith of Firinn. “For you I only have questions. what’s my truth? Am I blessed by a god? If so, what god?” She wasn’t sure if she would thank him or hate him. She let her hands fall to her side again. What use was praying? Even if the gods were listening, why would they answer her?
“A mortal life is a precious thing, Auriëlle.” Came a sad voice inside her head, followed by a gentle warmth, small but steady. The voice spoke again, “What would life be if not the choices we make of it? I do not control you. Life was not made to be enslaved by some predetermined fate. You were born free, to be as who you wanted to be as you grew. As you grow.” The voice paused before continuing, ”I have always cared for you and I will always care for you. Since the moment you drew your first breath, until the moment your eyes shut. It is my sacred charge to care and protect life, sworn before the world flourished, before the green, before the mountains and before the seas came to be.” The warmth became light, growing brighter as the voice spoke, before fluctuating again as it continued on, ”Not every prayer comes with an answer. Not every answer is the one wanted to be heard. Such is the nature of divinity. But you have called and now I have answered. I am Oraelia, Goddess of Life, and I have heard your cry.”
For a minute Auriëlle thought a druid was playing tricks on her. She even had her copper dagger pulled half-way out. Yet that light, that warmth in her mind, it couldn’t be mistaken. It was godly in every sense of the word. It made her drop to her knees. The dagger fell to her side with a clang. A tear dropped from each of her eyes. It was majestic to feel, wonderful. Safe.
Then she shook herself free from that spell. “Now!?” She said as she kept her wide eyes focused on the ground below her. “Now you appear!?” Her body was shivering. Inner conflict raged. She should be feeling happy, relieved, secure yet she didn’t want to be. Those feelings were dangerous and utterly foreign to her. “Now you appear with the guts to tell me I was born free!? I was chained by my family and my city for a decade and then they hid me away for another one.” Something twisted in her own stomach. “If you protected all life then where were you in Jalka!?” She said those words in her own mind. Accompanied with all the rage, pain and regret she couldn’t put a stop to now. “Where were you when I killed those people who just wanted to eat!? They didn’t have a choice. I didn’t have a choice! I never had choices!” It was kill or be killed in the last few years.
The warmth in her head grew small as she lashed out until she had finished. It ruminated her thoughts and shared in her pain. The warmth erupted again as Oraelia spoke with sorrow in her voice, ”Not every answer is the one wanted to be heard…” she repeated softly. ”You chose to leave your home, you chose to live your life on the road, killing for coin and food. You chose to go to Jalka, did you not? For war? Why Auriëlle,” The Goddess’ voice seemed to break, ”Why did you not walk away when you could? Before you murdered innocents? That was your choice. You could have been better, could have used your power to help them and now you come before me in mock prayer, alone and afraid despite your anger and rage and you ask why I didn’t prevent those deaths? When you, all along, could have?” Her voice faltered, sounding not angry, but terribly sad. ”You are terribly lost, Auriëlle. Terrified of what anything else but hate might bring. You must ask yourself this question; Is this who you truly want to be?” she asked, the warmth and light at its brightest.
“But what else is there for someone like me!?” She screamed it now. Her voice was shrill. In her head and out loud. Hatred mixed with pain and regret. “I’m a monster! I can’t do anything else. I don’t want to do anything else. I’m good at killing!” Even saying felt liberating but wrong. Like it was a secret she should never have said. Tears ran down her cheeks. “You saw what I can do. They called me blessed for it!” A shameful truth began to boil up. She wanted her old life back. The life of a scribe. She was comfortable in Acadia, surrounded by safe walls with a warm hearth. She just had to count sheep. It was so simple, so peaceful. Then she was ripped from that life and could never return. Now she would always have blood on her hands. No matter what she did. “What kind of wretched thing would bless me with this!?”
"You are not a monster." Oraelia said sternly in her mind. "A monster does not feel remorse, guilt, regret and pain, Auriëlle. I have seen what you were, what you are and but a glimpse of what you could still become. Wanting to kill and killing are two very different things. If your desire is to kill in the great game of win or lose, so be it. But that is a path you will never recover from. It will consume you. However, as my daughter showed me once, there is a path to take that protects those who cannot protect themselves. Who fight evil men and bring about justice. Which one will you find yourself on?" she asked her. Then once more her voice returned, but softer. "I know not who empowered you, only that I can taste the divinity upon your soul and it is unfamiliar to me. I am sorry."]
She couldn’t say anything anymore. Only cry. There was no way she could bottle everything up again. Maybe Oraelia was right. Maybe not. She couldn’t think now. She just felt pain and cold. So cold. A chill, midnight wind had finally taken to her.
Then there was warmth. An embrace. Someone was hugging her. “You’re not a monster. Nobody’s a monster.” It was Sennah’s voice. The young apprentice was holding her tight. Auriëlle felt like she was melting in her arms. Yet as she felt the warm and the touch of someone caring, her senses suddenly fell away. Her eyes became heavy and her mind blank. Had fatigue finally caught up with her? She couldn’t fight it. There was no fight in her life. She just fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
”Hah! That’s right! Go to sleep, you rowdy, little--... Thing.”
"Gibbou…"
Auriëlle finds herself near Ha-Dûna. Where she believes she’ll find answers to her questions. She encounters an apprentice named Sennah who gives her a quick tour of the inner parts of the town and then gets a druid. However it takes a while before a druid can see her. Meanwhile Sennah offers Auriëlle a cup of water from the basin of the weary but she refuses in a super rude way. Night falls eventually and Auriëlle, paranoid as hell, decides not to go to a resthouse. She even sends a very helpful Sennah away. Instead she stays outside amongst the megaliths and gives several of them a mock prayer.
Oraelia decides to respond. Prompting Auriëlle to first explode in rage at her and then have an emotional breakdown as she calls herself a monster for killing a lot of people. Oraelia shares some words and thoughts of wisdom learned from her daughter. Then says she doesn’t know who blessed her, but that she is definitely blessed by some divine entity.
Then Auriëlle is embraced by Sennah who overheard her breakdown. Telling her she’s not a monster. Finally the sorceress falls asleep…though perhaps not by natural means.
Post length: 17K characters Auriëlle >> +5 Prestige Basin of the Weary >> +5 Prestige
It was good that the Curators’ efforts were bolstered by new Akua, Vespian, and Mantarin members. Especially now, when suddenly all Eloxochitli retreated into their compound. They even locked themselves into a singular chamber. The door was barricaded from the outside and guarded, at all times, by two Itztli. Requests to meet with the venerable toads were politely but clearly refused. This suddenly isolation was because of a singular thing. In the midst of the five Eloxochitli sat a small bowl with golden glowing ink. There was only a little of it, yet it was very clearly magical.
Yet the Eloxochitli could not comprehend its nature at all. Their very orderly minds were obsessing over the substance in silence. Ruminating over its possible complications. It wasn’t made by their god, that was for sure. Sadly, it would be utterly impossible for these creatures to understand the ink. Their minds were devoid of almost all emotions. Pure reason ruled, which would override any chaos that could birth artistic inspiration. The ink itself was brought before them by a mere goblin painter when he had slaved, for years, to depict the sun in all its glory.
Eventually, they all confessed their resignation with a single grunt each and went to pray.
Qael’Naath was not prayed to. His name was not well known in the world of Galbar. Which was by design after all. Yet when five of his most beloved children settled down to pray in unison to him, he knew he had to answer. His avatar sped across the world. In a flash, it was over the compound, then it sept through the knocks and crannies into the meditative chamber. In the midst of it he could see the ink. Even he had to marvel for a moment, for to him it felt like the very essence of the world laid before him. He prodded and examined the ink with his divine senses, trying to get it to react to his own creation. Everything failed. He scanned the minds of his servants for knowledge. There he found it. The ink was produced by an artisan in the most mystical ways. Qael’Naath’s understanding of art was quite different really. He saw art in ratios and geometric shapes. To him a beautiful spell was a sequence of perfectly defined instructions. Even if their effect was nigh invisible.
This expressionism was something very different. Qael’Naath could trace back its origins to a state of emotional chaos. Yet it wasn’t malevolent or hurtful. The god pondered deeply upon the ink and the certainty that more of its kind could be created. Even though it was not born from order, it perhaps could still be fruitful to learn about it.
The decree was received with joy. The barricade was lifted and plans created. The many unfinished hallways and open plots surrounding The Library now showed their purpose, as a few of them were being filled in. However, the new building was not designed solely by the desires of the Itztli and Eloxochitli. Renown Mantarin and Vespian designers were consulted. Each lending their own touch to the sprawling new building. It would be smaller than the first hall, but far more open. With galleries and even workshops inside. Questions were raised about the often odd placings of walls but left unanswered.
the permission from the queen and her bureaucracy was given and the construction of the new extension of The Library began. Like before, all races that shared Sancta Civitas joined in to help raise the creation. Stone was imported en mass and chiseled to perfection. Meanwhile food tokens were freed up by the Curators in an effort to acquire more samples of ink. Study of these substances were left to Mantarin and Goblin Curators. The more artistically inclined amongst them bore exceptionally fruitful results.
When the new hall was complete, it was ceremoniously opened. Inside though, the influence of The Library outstretched itself towards the new extension. The once peculiar walls that should have been windows shimmered and apparently changed form until each wall showed a majestic landscape. Roiling hills, majestic mountains and tranquil oceans were all shown. The doors to these galleries and were thrown open for all with artistic talent to be inspired by the endless illusions. The upper chambers of the domed hall featured open air solariums and the illusionary walls. Lower levels held galleries with large open windows where paintings, sculptures and the now newly made plaques containing hauntingly beautiful poems would be shown. Other rooms on this level served to research the various inks that were slowly trickling into the building. Most of those inks were stored within the vaults underground though, so they wouldn't be stolen. Ketrefa was growing into a sprawling city with a very keen interest in magic. An interest Qael’Naath took notice of. Unlike Acadia, Ketrefa had no immediate danger. Their mages did not have to be trained in the arts of self defense or destruction. Instead they seemed to have focused on runes and icons. The Winds of Magic remained hidden within the inky sky and observed from above. Despit the focus, the runes were still of an abysmal quality. He couldn't fault the carvers though. They were working with imperfect materials. Still, like Acadia they too deserved a little gift.
Helian had been up all night carving his runes in an artisan’s statue. The statue was meant to radiate heat but be more durable than the usual poles they placed during the winter. In fact they wanted the statue to remain there for many years. Helian had been practice on stone slates in an attempt to refine his technique. To no avail. He tried everything: wooden rulers to guide him, a smaller chisel and even putting the hammer in an apprentice’s hand so he could focus on keeping the chisel on track. All was in vain. The imperfections remained. Sure, some runes were carved very well. They could’ve lasted for maybe a full year. It wasn’t enough though.
Exhausted he dropped his chisel and mallet as the rune chipped again. Making it imperfect. “It’s impossible.” He said to himself in resignation. The statue had to be done by tomorrow afternoon, yet here he was. Not even started. The fact that he barely slept caught up with him now as he slowly closed his eyes for just a quick nap.
He woke up with the sun in his eyes. Panic gripped his heart. There was no more time. Whatever happened next, it was in the hand of fate and the gods. He grabbed his chisel and hammer and moved over to the statue. Upon which he began to slowly but surely carve the rune. To his surprise, it didn’t chip. Every bit of stone removed was the exact bit that had to be removed. Panic slowly replaced itself with joy as he managed to finish the project just before sun reached its peak.
The Emissaries discover ink from ink weaving and ruminate upon its properties. Though they are unable to glean its secrets. So they request Qael'Naath's help. Who learns that the ink is the product of a very mortal form of chaos: artistic creativity. So he decrees that a new part of The Library will be constructed in dedication and for the research of this mystical ink.
In Ketrefa, a young rune carver named Helian is desperate. He is supposed to finish carving a rune into a statue by the next day. Though the rune request has to be of impossible quality. He had practiced for days but still came short. Eventually, he resigns himself to a nap. When he wakes up in a panic, he rushes over to the statue and begins carving. So that the project would at least be finished. To his surprise he found that the rune is carved to perfection.
Qael'Naath Start: 3MP/3DP -1DP >> add a title to The Library
Walls of Infinity I – A gift to the artists who can weave the ink. Vast galleries exist within the Vault of Ink. Grand, flat walls are flanked by windows letting in natural sunlight. The walls themselves are rarely visible though. For upon them illusions in the 3 spatial dimensions are projected. These illusions may show tranquil fields, majestic mountain ranges, or even the hearts of a storm. They also produce faint sounds and smells of the location. Meant to inspire poets and other dreamers as well. The illusions are not constant and will randomly shift to show different landscapes. These landscapes would serve to inspire artists. However, the locations are not real. They are not places upon Galbar. The illusions are not portals and running headfirst into them will only give you a concussion
-1MP >> Consecrate the Rune-Carver's Chisel
Rune-Carver II – The chisel helps all who use it in their iconographic magic carving. It minimizes errors by not transferring the force exercised on it that would create errors in the rune. So it only lets you remove the right amount of material. The caveat is that the wielder actually has to know and have the intent to carve a certain rune. There is also the dangers of indecisiveness to consider. For example: if you want to carve a completely different rune mid-way your carvings, the chisel will switch its priority and assume you want to start from zero on the new rune. It cannot pick up a half-finished rune and help you finish it. So once you’ve begun carving you must finish it before you start the next rune. (Free >> Discount)
Strong I – The chisel’s metallic component is extremely strong. Allowing one to carve into the metal without fear of blunting or grinding down its head. (-1 MP)
End: 2MP/2DP
Prestige >> 6.4K post +3 Prestige to Sancta Civitas
The sun was at its highest. Shadows were at their shortest. The only place the trolls had to hide were directly underneath something. They were easy to root out.
This day was no exception.
Thirty mercenaries brazenly ascended a hill, making no attempt to be silent or to hide their presence. Boots crunched against the discarded bones of their fellow humans. The plan their white-haired leader devised had depended on being detected. The slope they climbed led up to a wide cave entrance, at the base of a mountain.
The prey slept soundly within… all except a single pair of eyes, which saw the humans approaching, and let out a roar of warning to wake the rest of its kin.
“Forward!” shouted Carn, pointing a spear at the cave. The mercenaries climbed the hill at a quicker pace, even as the trolls within the cave began to rouse themselves. They came to a stop just before the cave’s mouth, as Carn ordered them to form a line of spears two ranks thick. At the head of the line stood Carn himself, along with a trio of mages, one of whom was the red-headed sorceress he had spent the past two years adventuring with.
“Hold!” he held up a hand, letting the mages know that the time was not right. He listened closely, taking note of the sounds within the cave. The ranglefants let out cries of alarm at first. Then he could hear the scraping of rock and the occasional grunt as they began to form up.
Then, he heard a series of roars and the sound of feet stomping on stone, as the creatures began their charge. “Now! Fire!” he said to Aurielle.
She outstretched her right hand and summoned an orb of fire in it. Her two mages, the young Solenia and the older and pompous Kalhin began to chant next to her. The wind was picking up. You could hear it in the rustling of the trees. Auriëlle kept her eyes on the cave’s exit. As was decided. Only when she saw the first trolls emerge, she would unleash her wrath. The mere seconds that passed felt like hours. Then she saw it, the eyes and the first bits of skin. Combined with a deafening roar. “Stand your ground!” She shouted, though Kalhin next to her needed no encouragement. It was Solenia who began to tremble. “It’s okay.” Auriëlle said, much more reassuring now. “We can do this. On my mark…Now!”
A surge of fire erupted from her hand blasting straight towards the hole. A fierce gust of wind roared from behind them and fed Auriëlle’s flame. Fire raged into the den, filling it up. Screams of hate and pain echoed from the cave. One burning troll even managed to make it out of the cave. Though not far. The flames clung to his skin. He stumbled, and finally fell. Dead. Auriëlle couldn’t maintain her sorcery for much longer though. As her mages saw Auriëlle’s flame die, they both stopped their wind spells to feed the fire. Solenia looked tired by the effort. While Kahlin looked as if he was ready for more.
“That should be it.” Auriëlle said with a cocky smile as she turned to Carn. Then she heard a roar that made the hair on her arms stand up. “Impossible!” She said as she turned around. More trolls were charging out of the still slightly smoking hole. “Kahlin, Solenia, get out of here! Carn kill them!” She shouted as she ran over to protect her mages.
There were five in total. The wall of spears advanced forward, stepping past the mages and closing back into formation. The lead ranglefant wasn’t particularly impressive by the standards of its kind, but one thing which caught Carn’s eye was the tribal necklace around its neck, consisting of various beads, fingerbones, and even a silver sapphire ring. But now was not the time to think of loot. The trolls were upon him.
The spears thrust forward. Three of the five trolls were skewered in their guts, but even as they died the momentum of their charge carried their bodies forward and forced portions of the line to step back. Carn and two others lunged for the lead troll, but to Carn’s astonishment it was able to seize all three spears in a single lightning-fast swipe.
The three weapons were yanked from their grips. Carn’s hand instinctively went for his sword, just as the troll suddenly took one of the spears, flipped it around with an elegance never before seen in its kind, and thrust it at Carn’s chest. He raised the shield, and although he successfully blocked the blow, the shield nearly splintered, and the beast’s impact forced him to stagger backward.
The two men who had stood beside him drew their swords and charged forward. The troll swatted one aside with a swing of its massive arm, while the other was able to sink a blade into its side. Enraged, the troll placed both hands on the attacker’s skull and squeezed, crushing it.
In that moment Carn rushed forward, driving his blade into the troll’s gut and ripping it through its stomach. Carn felt both his nose, jaw, and nearly every single one of his teeth break as the beast violently backhanded him away. He landed on his back and slid several feet, looking up just in time to see the troll collapse and die as its entrails spilled onto the floor.
Meanwhile the final troll had managed to plow through the line, knocking several men aside. It set its gaze on the mages, the ones who had scorched so many of its kin, and rushed toward her with a vengeful roar.
Auriëlle and Kalhin had been carrying a weakened Solenia away from the fray. Though they hadn’t gotten far. When the roar from behind them came, she knew she had no choice. She released the young mage and turned around. Point two fingers at the face of the troll. It heaved it’s heavy arms over its head. Ready to slam her into the ground. “Die.” Auriëlle said as lightning arched over the wooden vambrace on her arm. The arcs grew in intensity until they reached the tip of her two fingers. A bolt of lightning shot forward and struck the troll in its face. It staggered backwards, clutching its face. Auriëlle didn’t give him any time to react though. She outheld her other hand and began to gather her power in its palm. When the troll regained its bearing it roared at her, just in time for her to release her sorcery.
A visible wave of fire burned the whole troll from head to toe. Blackening its skin. After releasing a final grunt, it sunk to its knees and fell before her. Auriëlle kept her eyes on the other dying trolls. “Kahlin, go check on the wounded.” Kahlin did as commanded with silent obedience. That’s why she liked him. He was dependable. Solenia though, Solenia was weaker than him. Perhaps less talented. Still, she had the same conviction as Auriëlle back when she was still in Acadia. It was why she took Solenia under her wing.
She got up and walked towards Carn. “How many were killed?” She asked.
Carn held up a hand as his nose snapped back into place and his jaw reset itself. He spat blood onto the grass. “Three,” he said with a shrug, his voice sounding odd due to the fact that his teeth were still regrowing as he spoke. “A few might have broken bones.”
She winced at the sound of his face reconstructing itself. It was impossible to get used to it. It just felt wrong. Then again, she would rather have it perfect and heal itself than have him lose all his teeth several times over. She then looked at the people around her. “A druid in the nearby town can heal most of those injuries. Kahlin can try but-“ Behind her a soldier screamed in pain. “-I don’t think I want to subject too many of the men to him.” She finished before she turned to the blackened hole of the cave. “That ran much deeper than the king told us.” She said with a strange suspicion. Had the king played them or really just not known? Maybe his retinue was right behind them. It wouldn’t have been the first time some king sends in a small group of mercenaries to weaken their foes so they can then deliver the finishing blow.
Carn shrugged. “I doubt he explored this cave himself. Anything he knew about it would have come from some hunter or forager, going off their memory. There were a few more trolls than expected, though. Might be able to justify the King giving us a bonus, but I doubt it.”
“Kings don’t give bonuses.” Auriëlle said. It was a vexing thing, working for nobles and royals. But they generally paid better than villagers binding together. Their little mercenary group had garnered enough fame that those higher echelons would hire them. Which was impressive enough considering they weren’t in the mercenary business for longer than three years. It wasn’t enough though. “I want something bigger, Carn.” Auriëlle said, betraying her anxiousness.
“Hm. Never heard that complaint from you before…” Carn smirked. Others were already tending to the wounded. For those who were in too rough shape to be healed, splints and makeshift stretchers were already being fashioned from broken or discarded spears.
“You should listen more? I’ve said it several times.” She returned with the same smirk but then she became serious again. “I mean it though, Carn. Do you really want to burn out troll dens for fat creeps on glorified chairs for another five years?” It was clear that she didn’t. Life was too precious, as was time.
“What do you have in mind, then?” Carn asked her. “It’s not like we can storm the walls of Ketrefa and set ourselves up as King and Queen.” He shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love something more. The only problem is finding it.”
She would never be a queen. The idea of being chained down to a chair disgusted her. Sure she wanted a home. A place where she wouldn’t be chased out after a week but instead would be welcomed after years of traveling. “Ruling might be your thing but you know it isn’t mine. I just want to be part of something bigger. There has to be something bigger, something more worthwhile going on somewhere? Like a big war.” In the last few years, violence and fighting had become Auriëlle’s life. Strangely enough she enjoyed it. Sure she had bled and screamed in pain as well. Yet it all made her feel alive. She couldn’t imagine what a heady drug a war would be for her. Carn quirked his brow. “Wouldn’t we just be helping a fat creep on a glorified chair fight another fat creep on a glorified chair?”
“At least I’d get to kill one of the fat creeps.” Auriëlle said as she turned around. “Get your men ready to return. Those trolls are beginning to stink.” “One moment,” Carn said as he rose to his feet and stepped over to the troll he had gutted. “You three, help me turn this bastard over!” he ordered. Three men moved to comply, helping him flip the large creature over. Carn’s gaze found the primitive necklace on the beast’s neck, then he drew his knife, cut the string, and plucked the silver ring free.
He examined the ring in its palm. The craftsmanship was unlike anything he had ever seen, and the sapphire quite literally seemed to glow. No doubt this would be of immense value. “Alright,” he said. “Redspears!” He shouted, using the company’s official name. “Sweep the cave for anything valuable, then form up. It’s time to go!”
“So,” Carn said, approaching Aurielle’s table and taking a seat. “The King is set on paying on us the agreed upon amount. Despite the fact that he was mistaken regarding the number of trolls.” The sellsword shrugged. “But, pay is pay, I suppose. He’ll have it delivered here shortly.”
He better, Auriëlle though. “We really should just be overcharging them anyway.” She said as she took a gulp from her watered wine and then ripped a piece off her chicken. It wasn’t every day that she could eat such a delicious piece of poultry so she would enjoy it. “So did the soldiers find anything in that hole? Other than that sapphire ring.”
Carn shrugged. “Bones and corpses. Some with pouches and equipment attached. Nothing worth mentioning.” He took the ring out. “This thing is a beauty, though. I have to wonder how much it’s worth.”
“It’s enchanting as well.” With a quick move of her hand she took the ring off Carn and held it in front of her. That gem was definitely glowing in a weird way. She couldn’t feel any magic coming off of it though. At least none that she knew of. Instead she felt something different. “Actually…” she said slowly as she held it closer. “I think it really might be enchanted.”
Carn reached out and gently took the ring back. “If it’s enchanted, how do we figure out what it does?”
“Put it on. If something bad happens I’ll just cut your finger off.” She took a big swig of her watered wine, it was her third tankard and she was beginning to feel its influence a little now. “And I promise I will try to not cut off your whole hand.” What did it matter, it would regrow right?
“You are a paragon of mercy,” Carn remarked as he slipped the ring onto his finger. “Hm. Can’t say I feel any different.” He waited a few moments, then took it off. “Perhaps you should try?”
Auriëlle took the ring but look at it for a moment. “What if its cursed but it doesn’t work on Helgen?” She asked, mostly to herself though Carn probably heard it as well. Slowly she put it on, ready to rip it off should she feel anything dangerous. Instead she just felt cold silver. It didn’t do anything indeed. Though she held her hand out to see the ring on her hand. It was gorgeous. Even more beautiful than the ruby amulet she was given some two years ago. Then she realized what a ring on a finger meant. Instantly she took it off and laid it back on the table. “Maybe it only works when you do something. Like running or lifting something.” She quickly added.
Carn shrugged and slipped the ring back on. “Only one way to find out, I suppose,” he shrugged. “Anyhow, I heard something that might interest you. Apparently there’s tension between the western Highland kingdoms and the eastern Lowland kingdoms. More than usual, I mean.”
Auriëlle’s face lit up. “More than usual? As in a war? Are you telling me there is war!?” She was getting visibly excited now.
Carn shrugged. “Not yet. But there might be. Kings, chieftains, lords, and merchants are all getting tense. Hiring more mercenaries. Even if things don’t devolve into open conflict, we’ll have no shortage of work.”
“Then I guess we’ll just have to find a merchant who goes to either one of those kingdoms and then go from there!” Auriëlle said.
He nodded. “That is what I was thinking. Now, from what I’ve been told, these tensions are over the usual issues. We Highlanders want the Lowlanders’ grain. We’re bothered by the prices they charge; they’re bothered by the tolls placed on their caravans. You’d think there’d be an easy solution for this, but apparently not,” Carn shrugged. “They also say that bandits from the Highlands are slipping into the Lowlands to raid, and the local leaders aren’t doing anything to stop it. The Lowlanders also want free access to the Sunlit Temple, and… well, there are a lot of issues. But… definitely wealth to be won. And plenty of action for us both.”
Carn, Auriëlle and their mercenaries named the Redspears are tasked by some regional king to eradicate a den of ranglefant trolls. Carn’s soldiers lure the trolls out and Auriëlle burns the entire den. Though several manage to survive the fire by staying deep in the den where the flames couldn’t reach them. A short but bloody battle erupts. After the battle Auriëlle remarks that she wants something bigger. Carn and her have a short back and forth about what she’d exactly want. After which Carn gives the order to loot the den and the corpse of a troll. Who was holding a sapphire ring on a necklace.
Back in the city of the kingdom they were hired by, Auriëlle and Carn have a discussion about the ring. Auriëlle says it’s enchanted, yet neither seem to understand how it works. Then the subject shifts to local tensions: the western Highlands Kingdoms and the eastern Lowland Kingdoms. There is no outright war but there are disputes over trade and raids. The two decide to find work there.
Carn Beginning Prestige: 19 +5 for 10k characters -10 for Creating an adjacent minor Holy Order: the Redspears Ending Prestige: 14
Auriëlle Beginning Prestige: 9 +5 for 10K characters -5 for Creating an adjacent minor Holy Order: the Redspears Ending Prestige: 9
Auriëlle hated the road and hated the small, constricting villages she was forced to visit between Acadia and Ketrefa. The muddy, dirty places were disgusting. Yet she needed shelter and food. When she first ran away, she just stole some farm-daughter’s clothes that hung out to dry. These days she made her money in a different way. She entered the local tavern. Up north those were the places you went to meet people, or to be met. The second she took her place in front of the hearth and paid for her watered down wine (she hated ale), three local thugs approached her. How could they not? She was unlike any woman they’ve ever met. Nice looking, homely, with that one scar on her cheek that showed that she wasn’t afraid to get into trouble. One side of her fiery red hair was braided and was used to tie the rest of her hair into a pony tail. The copper knife on her hip was just cherry on the pie.
“So what’s a pretty lil’ lady like you doin’ in a place like Norfulk, eh?” The stick-thin thug asked as he took his place in front of her.
Auriëlle had seen it all. It made her tired. So instead of answering she opened her hand and let a flame burst forth from it. Then she grabbed her mug of wine and took a small sip. “Let’s skip the introductions and the comments, shall we. I’ve already heard it a thousand times” She said with a disinterested tone. When she was twenty and just ran off, the comments some men threw her way were disgusting. Why did they talk to a woman that way? After two years she got used to it. Somewhat. “You’ve got a job for me, now that you know I’m a sorceress. So tell me what it is so I can get paid and leave this shithole.”
The thugs looked at each other. Auriëlle often told herself she could smell their fear. That wasn’t entirely true, but she saw it. They were tense. One was nearly gripping his club. She didn’t want to fight. Not here. She wanted to sleep. But she would if they were stupid enough to take a swing at her.
The leading thug spat on the ground and then said: “Fine. I’ve gotta customer not payin’. I need you to convince ‘im. Think you can handle it?”
Auriëlle downed her wine and got up. “Just point me in the right direction.”
Minutes later and under the cover of dusk, Auriëlle made her way to the house. It smelled nice. From the stall outside she could see bits and pieces of herbs laying around. She hated bullying herbalists. They were often the cleverest people in a village. Some could even write. Gods how she missed writing and reading now. One time she had met a herbalist kneeling in the middle of the woods and praying. Some of them were very, very odd. She politely knocked on the door. After some time and some rustling behind the hinges, it opened up slightly.
“Come back tomorrow.” A man behind the door said.
He tried to slam the door shut again but it was blocked by Auriëlle’s foot. “I need to settle a debt.” She could basically hear the man swallow behind the door. He opened the door more and opened his mouth but Auriëlle was ahead of him: “I don’t need your excuses. Just the coins.”
“And why should I give it to you?” The man was about mid-thirty. Strong, with a few more scars on his arms than Auriëlle. His rather rugged appearance told Auriëlle that he used to fight. A lot. Maybe a wandering boxer or a militia volunteer.
She raised her arm and sparks of lighting arched between her fingers. “Just give me the money. We can both walk-“ A fist cut her off. She took it straight in the face. Before she knew it she was down into the muddy ground. Something hot dripped from her nose. Instinctively she rolled. Just in time. The man had jumped where she was a second ago. She put one hand on his shoulder and pushed the lighting through him. He couldn’t even scream out in pain. His entire body locked up and then fell flat into the mud.
Auriëlle got up and kicked him on his back. “Idiot! I could’ve killed you!”
“But you didn’t.” the man said in between coughs. “I can’t pay you.”
Auriëlle ignored him and turned towards the opened door. Where two little kids, neither more than eight, appeared in the doorway. “Daddy is everything okay?” One asked. Auriëlle stopped in her tracks. “Go to mommy.” She said, hoping to get the kids out of the way as she forced the man to pay up. The job didn’t pay enough to deal with children. Nothing would pay enough.
“We’ve got no mommy.” The youngest said.
Great! Perfect. Wonderful! Cadien’s Curse, she just couldn’t get a break! All she wanted was to sit back for a night and then sleep on something else than moss with a belly that was filled with an actual meal. Yet here she was in the dusk, in a mud street beating up the only parent of two.
The man got up, but didn’t try to attack her again. He just pleaded with her: “Please don’t take my money. It’s all I have! Tell them I’ll pay later. My kids, they need to eat. Please.”
“Shut up.” Auriëlle mumbled under her breath as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I have an idea. Give me any coins you can spare now. I don’t care how much it is. Just give them to me.”
Half an hour later she walked back into the tavern. Nobody cared that she was half-covered in mud. The fact that they didn’t care was even more reason for her to hate this place. She approached the three thugs and dropped the very light sack onto their table. “The debt’s settled.”
One thug lifted the purse and dropped it again on the table. Now the three thugs could clearly hear the lack of many metal clangs. “No it isn’t.” The leader shot back. “What? I told you clearly how many coins he owed us.”
Auriëlle took a chair from one of the tables and seated her near the thugs their table. She peered into the three candles lit on the table. They grew large and hot. Some fire jumped from one candle to the other. Just three years ago she couldn’t do that. Now she did it because she wanted it to happen. There was no spell. No runes or hand signs. It was just her, wanting something to happen. “I could burn all three of your faces off right here, right now if I wanted to.” She said as she kept peering into the candle lit fire. “Now tell me his debt is settled.”
All three of them released an annoyed grunt, but knew she probably wasn’t kidding. So they just nodded.
“Good.” Auriëlle took the purse off the table and put it in her own mantle’s inner pocket. “Payment for my services.” She said with a tone that would not accept any discussion about it. This annoyed the three thugs even more.
“And finally, you three are going to swear you’re not going to bother that man again. You’ll swear it on Tekret. Do you understand?”
The three thugs shared some wild eyed looks with each other. A small grin formed on Auriëlle’s face. She knew what would happen if she just got up and left tomorrow. By the time it was lunch time, the herbalist would be bleeding on his own floor. She made that mistake before. Never again. Priests of Tekret told her that swearing something on Tekret’s name drew the god’s attention. Making the agreement binding on a divine level. She wasn’t sure how much to believe of that. The past twenty years she wasn’t so sure about any of the gods. What mattered now was that the thugs believed it.
“Swear it and I won’t have to make sure you don’t become an issue in the future.” Auriëlle pressured them.
One by one they gave in and nodded. When all three had nodded they said: “We swear on Tekret that we won’t bother Horace again.”
“Pleasure doing business with you, gentlemen.” Auriëlle said, as she got up and walked up to the bar. She dropped the small purse on the counter and said: “A bed for the night.”
The bartender lifted the coin purse, then emptied its contend on the counter. It wasn’t much but he shoved a few coppers back her way. Which she quickly pocketed. He also bit down on one silver piece to check it. Then he gave her a grunt of acceptance and motioned her to follow him upstairs to her room.
Auriëlle grew up and became a travelling sorceress for hire. Though she hates the muddy, small, ugly towns she has to walk and work in. She gets a job from some local thugs to gather some debt from someone. That person ends up being a father of two with no mother in sight. So instead of taking all his money, she only takes what he can spare and then forces the thugs to agree that the debt is settled. Then she also forces them to swear on Tekret that they won’t bother the man again. She pockets the few coins they got to settle his debt to cover the expense of her service and uses it to get a room.
Her whole live Auriëlle was told she would achieve greatness. Family and blood meant a lot in Acadia. Even from before she was born, the priests claimed she was destined for greatness. Her father’s bloodline could be traced back to the few mighty warriors that stood with the Flameweaver herself. Their family history is drenched in Iskrill blood. Every boy born in that family is destined to one day die and be buried with the bones and skulls of their vanquished foes. On her mother’s side the blood of Simain herself coursed through their veins.
By all portents, believes and laws of Acadia, Auriëlle should have become the most talented and powerful mage of her generation. The one of whom bards would sing songs until the end of times. She would be blessed by Cadien with unrivaled beauty and by Aurius with endless magical prowess. In secret, crusaders were already being palnned with her at the spear’s tip long before she was born. The Iskrill would burn. All of them and the vile land of the Abberant would burn with them. Her name would be known from the sun touched plains to the far east to the massive mountains in the south.
In the end, she turned out to be a huge disappointment. Auriëlle did not make fire or cast magic at a young age. The anticipation began to crumble when she showed no aptitude for her ancestor’s spells. In fact, she even lacked the fighting spirit that came with the fierce blood of both her parents. Instead she preferred to spend her time laying in the grass and look up to the sky.
Time moved on. Even though she had shown no talent for magic, she was still to be trained as a mage. For a while at least. Acadia had no patience for lackluster results though. At an embarrassingly young age Auriëlle’s training stopped and she was deemed unsuited as a mage. Her parents, ashamed, could not risk her to be seen in the public too much. They hired tutors to learn her the details of writing. It crumbled the last bits of her own confidence. At age twenty now, Auriëlle’s entire life could be found on her scribe desk. Being a scribe so young was terrible. She wasn’t copying the epic poems or the knowledge of spells. She was just adding up and archiving how many sheep were born and slaughtered each year.
At night she felt so bad that she just couldn’t go to sleep. Her dreams would confront her with her own failure, again and again. So instead she trekked up the hill, towards the sacred grove. A place where all other mages would train during the day. It wasn’t too far away from the city but she had to evade the estate where the soon-to-be mages resided before they would take their final test: to kill a wolf. She hated that estate. She hated it so much she wanted to burn it all. Because getting kicked out had made her the black sheep to her age-mates. Every girl that could fling fire like it was a stone began to laugh in her face whenever they saw her out in the market. Auriëlle tried to turn the other cheek and not let it get to her. But there was only so much laughter she could take until it began to chip away at her.
So now she was going to show all of them. Several stone rings were spread around the clearing. They were filled with hay and wood to light up. Everything else was black of the fire that burned so often in this place. From the grove on the hill you could clearly see Acadia off in the distance. It looked beautiful but every night she crawled up so high, she began to doubt if she could call it home. Sadly there was nowhere else to be for. So she put her bag down and pulled out the clay tablet detailing the immolation spell. It was a trusted, constant if not vexing friend in these trying times. For half a year she had trudged up the hill to practice it. To no avail. Yet she pushed on. It should’ve been a simple spell: just three small hand signs. Yet she just could light a flame.
~
Through the winds of magic, Qael’Naath had been observing Acadia for some time now. Their mages were gifted. Especially with fire, though they never limited themselves to just that. Which gained his admiration. Magic in the other cities was used, yes, but never to a scale as here. It deserved encouragement. From high up, he had observed how the aspirants trained their magic in a clearing near a creek. At night it was abandoned. Giving him the perfect opportunity to bestow his gift and slip back into the endlessly shifting colors in the skies. The Winds flew until they were over the clearing. To its magical senses, there was no-one there. The obelisk began to take shape amid the gaseous form. It was made of jet-black marble with white veins running through it. There were no other markings or runes. Slowly it descended from the heavens, until the last few meters. The fall dug it deep into the earth. Then he blessed it.
~
Auriëlle barely saw the obelisk coming before it fell. The shockwave billowed up dust and earth, which coated her entire dress. When it all settled she cursed and sunk to her knees. Great! Now her her dress was dirty also! She was on the edge of sobbing when a sudden sense of warmth overwhelmed her. The hollow pit in her stomach vanished. It was filled with something else, something overwhelming.
Then, the shades appeared. At first she only thought she saw them in the corners of her eyes. She turned around, but there was nothing there. She thought she heard footsteps behind her and turned again. Nothing but night. Something whispered. It moved just on the edges of what she could see. Then she turned again. There it stood. An Iskrill, or what looked like one at least. It looked like it was made of black forge smoke. It hissed at her. Auriëlle began to slowly back away as the shadowy creature approached her. Others appeared from the corner of her eyes. Some crouched down to approach here. How did they pass the guards? How did they get so close to Acadia!? Auriëlle didn’t want to know the answers, but her mind was already imagining the corpses of the guards. Blood and entrails everywhere. She would’ve puked if she wasn’t running. She hated all this violence, why couldn’t the Iskrill and humans just talk it out!?
Well she would’ve loved to ask that question to the shadowy monsters growling behind but that very growl told her that it would rather snack on her than talk. She just had to reach the estate down the hill. She could already see the lights of the hearths inside. It was close. They would save her! Then she tripped.
She fell down face first into the mud. Time felt as if it slowed down. In that split second a thousand thoughts coursed through her mind. She would die here. Away from everyone. Away from her mother, who she loved so much. Away from her grumpy father. She just wanted to say goodbye one more time. She closed her eyes, not so much to resign to her fate as to not have to watch whatever was following her. She just wanted it to be gone. She wanted those dark things to burn like they burned in the stories.
She felt nothing. Not a claw or the warmth of her blood. Did she die and go to heaven? Slowly she opened her eyes again. If it was heaven, it looked a lot more muddy than she thought it would. Auriëlle turned over and the shadowy things were gone. She got up again and looked around her, but then a shadowy figure appeared off in the distance again.
It was too much. “Just die! Burn!” She shouted with all the might in her lungs as tears coursed off her cheeks. She wasn’t sure if she shouted it at the monster before her or at herself. Probably both. At least one person’s wishes would be granted tonight. She closed her eyes again, ready to take the claws. Then she felt the sudden heat on her face. She opened her eyes to see the shadowy Iskrill trashing and screaming as fire just appeared on its body and consumed it entirely. Yet it made not a single sound. The fires raged higher and brighter for a moment, then vanished entirely. They didn’t even leave ash of the thing.
“Did I… do that?” She asked herself as she looked at her hands. They were dirty dirty but it didn’t matter. She turned towards the house again. Things began to move inside. She could see the torches coming outside.
She only felt hate. For years they bullied her, taunted her, embarrassed her. For a split second she really did want to burn down the entire estate. To take her vengeance. The second she thought it, she pushed it away. No! She didn’t want to do that but she couldn’t stay now. Not with the power she had now.
Then her gut collapsed again. Did she really want to become the next Simain? The moment her parents would notice she could make fire so easily, they would insist she resumed her training as a mage. Did she want to fight in the mud and the rain against the same horrific things as one she just killed? Suddenly everything she hated about being a scribe felt so welcoming. The indoor warmth of a hearth, not being bothered by anyone. She even got paid decently well. It wasn’t perfect but it was a good life. That was gone too now. She just couldn’t return. So instead she got up and ran away. She would ran as far as her legs would carry her, which was further than most would expect but she was, after all, still Acadian.
A white humanoid figure made of dense mist appeared just behind her but Auriëlle never saw her. The figure was that of a woman, who waved her goodbye. “Be seeing you, Auriëlle. It’s a shame you couldn’t stay. I could’ve helped you.” Then she dissolved again.
Auriëlle is a girl that should’ve become a great hero of Acadia. Her father comes from a line of mighty warriors and her mother of the Flameweaver herself. Yet she sucks at magic and spells. So she had to become a scribe. She never gave up though and at night she crawls up the hill to go to the place where everyone practices magic during the day to train herself. Qael’Naath doesn’t detect her and creates an obelisk which he drops on the land and then blesses.
Auriëlle sees shadows of the Iskrill and runs but trips. When she gets back up the shadowy figures are gone. Then the reappear again. Auriëlle had enough and uses sorcery to burn one down to the ground. It works but she realizes this power is greater than she thought it would be. She doesn’t want to return home and be forced to go on long marches and fight monsters. So she decides to run away.
A gift of Qael’Naath to the aspiring mages of Acadia. The Obelisk has a circle of influence (radius= 30m) around it where shadowy creatures can spawn in for mages to practice on. This gives them a safe place to practice their spells. The shadow’s lifelike shapes are meant to emulate a real enemy. During training mistakes can happen and fear may overwhelm even the bravest mages without real consequences. Yet on a battlefield such a thing would be disastrous.
Cassiné is the “semi-consciousness” that controls the Obelisk. While she appears human, friendly and capable of some emotions like pride, she is ultimately a ghostly automaton created for the students and mages to take questions about the obelisk. Like how long it will take until the ward is restored after it is shattered or to stop the creation of shadows for a moment.
Cassiné I – The gentle voice of the Obelisk. Within the Obelisk’s circle of influence she can appear as in a humanoid mist form to give pointers and help to those who practice magic within the circle. She knows every spell that they intend to cast and will point out tiny details that might help the spell to be cast. Her gentle mannerism and endless patience allows for even the slowest students to learn their spells under her tutelage. (1MP)
Shadow spawner I – Shadows of a student’s worst enemy are spawned within the circle’s radius. These shadows are made of black gas and cannot hurt you in any way. Yet they look very much like the real thing. They cannot be destroyed using mundane means but are highly suspectable to magic. The shadows spawn depending on the potential power of the student within the circle. Smart and experienced students will cause more aggressive and fast shadows to spawn. (1 MP)
Warded Space I – A ward exists at the end of the radius of the Obelisk’s influence. The ward is an orb around the whole area and blocks the spells that are cast from within. Should a spell go haywire or fireback, it wouldn’t hurt anyone outside the radius. Very strong spells (like entire inferno’s) will cause the ward to crack and eventually shatter. Once shattered, it takes over a week before the ward is fully restored again. (1DP)
- 1 DP >> Consecrate Auriëlle
The girl that should have been a prodigy. She was accidentally blessed by Qael’Naath when he created the Obelisk of Acadia. Hekatiah I – Auriëlle is a gifted sorceress now. Sorcery becomes easier for her to use and more effective. Her powers don’t rival that of a spell just yet.(1DP)
When a druid entered Sancta Civitas, all Eloxochitli knew instantly that something had changed. As if a bead of nothingness entered the elsewise filled city. He wasn’t hard to track down, though the Itztli kept a safe distance as they observed the strange goblin that had entered the city. He didn’t look like he originated from Sancta Civitas. Yet he didn’t look like danger either. He just smiled, bought some food and then went to a local gathering hole where he apparently just told stories of faraway lands. Normal visitors of the hole just listened, smiled and laughed but the Itztli remembered every word the stranger said. So they could recite it to the Mantarin scribes later. When the time was right, they asked the druid if they could ask him some questions.
The druid, thankfully, accepted and was escorted to The Library. Where a room had been prepared. He was asked to sit on a chair in the middle of the room, standing on an elevated podium so everyone could hear and see him. He refused though and just sat cross-legged on the podium before the chair. Mantarin scribes were asked to take note of literally every word he said or almost said. For the stranger was unlike anything they had ever seen before. Then the endless flow of questions came. Who he was, what his name was, where he came from. Some questions the druid preferred not to answer and the Eloxochitl didn’t push it. He wanted the goblin to be as comfortable as possible.
Then the subject turned to the stories of his travels. The Itztli assumed most of it had to be fake. Yet his detailed knowledge of the other islands of Mydia changed that opinion quickly. The Eloxochitl was only interested in the local magical customs but the Mantarin scribes were becoming very interested now. They even took the questioning over for a moment. The goblin druid was happy to answer their questions about the surrounding islands as well. In fact, he even shared some crude maps he managed to draw. Which were swiftly copied by the talented scribes.
One word kept popping up though. ‘Hir’. It wasn’t the source. As the Eloxochitl understood it, it was a key of sorts. Something that allowed him to grow the grass and read the stars. Apparently it did come with a whole row of duties and demands. In fact, apparently sitting there and answering questions as part of his duties: to help everyone he meets. The Emissaries were a uniquely curious bunch. Because every act of magic must have been impossible for the druid. Yet he talked about growing plants for animals to feed on so they wouldn’t starve in the winter. Eventually, the request came to see some of these powers and then the druid completely blocked up. He said that needless, useless usage of druidic powers completely wrong and forbidden. It should always help someone or something. The questions changed then: when would he bless something else again?
Luckily for them, the druid had plans to bless a few fields outside the city tomorrow. This was deemed acceptable by the Eloxochitl who made sure he would be up early enough in the morning to witness these so-called favors.
Then the last question came. It was, perhaps, the strangest one for the druid, who still happily obliged. They went back to the large, main hall of The Library. Where the Vessels floated high up in the air and ask the druid to think of one of the acts he performed. Instantly a Vessel shot off towards the druid and coated both his tiny, goblin hands. The only thing the druid could describe it as was a wet feeling. The Eloxochitl accompanying him ushered him towards one of the side rooms where just flat, solitary walls stood like bookcases. The druid touched one of the walls and the Vessel coating his hands instantly attached itself to the wall. It spread out, covering the whole side of the wall in glimmering light, before fading and leaving behind a vast painting.
It was now the druid’s time for amazement, as he recognized what the mural depicted: the first time he drank from the Hir. He had traveled across Mydia, on board of ships to jump from island to island in search of it. Deep inside he had battled with himself, trying to confront himself with the idea that he might never find the sacred horn. Yet one night he encountered a real druid, who had drunk from the horn and felt the embrace of the gods. He too was of a wanderer sort and told him to look at it from a different point. He should be happy that he could help so many people even without the gods their power. Once he accepted that, life became easier. He tended to the wounded and the weak, hoping he would find the Hir but fully realizing and accepting that he might never succeed in that mission. Until he did find the Hir and drank from it. That was the end of what the Mural had depicted.
The Eloxochitl was perhaps as confused and surprised as the druid.
~
The compound the Emissaries had made was located closer to The Library than the western wall. It was quite a large building, to still very small compared with local palaces and temples. It housed all the Emissaries and their things. The Itztli slept on simple beds made of straw. While the Eloxochitli slept in small, shallow baths that fit exactly one of them. Below the compound, there was a rather large cave that was being filled with yellow and white gold they Emissaries were slowly but surely hoarding. So far only a few nuggets were places there. Deeper in the artificial cave you could find another cave with a carved pool in the middle of it. In the corners, Itztli eggs rested and in the pool round, Eloxochitli eggs laid submerged. A flame was kept lit in a brazier to keep the whole cave warm.
The Itztli were currently mostly working near one of the western gates, where they also lived with some Mantarin. It hadn’t taken long to convince the Sancta Civitas bureaucrats that massive granaries would have to be build so all the produce could be stored there. Once the plans, designed by the Emissaries and the city’s architects together, were accepted, the building began. Deep pits were dug into the ground. Entire trees were carried through the gatehouse. From them huge beams were chopped and placed into the ground. Meanwhile, pottery workshops sprouted up around the granary. Producing more and more amphoras and pithoi to fill with goods. The granary began taking shape as a structure elevated up from the ground. The main barn-like doors were large enough for two carts side by side to move inside. The entire first floor was left empty With ramps going upwards on both sides. The first floor held hundreds and hundreds of little sections separated by thin walls. Each ready to be filled with the pottery containing various amounts of food to be gently rolled down the ramp down. More ramps climbed upwards. Going to the floors upwards. Where hexagonal sections were already being made with natural wax from the Vespians. The upper sections would look more and more like full hives.
Meanwhile, in the compound, several Eloxochitli was diligently at work crafting the small, wooden eagle statuettes. Each piece would be carved from a single piece of rowan wood and each feather on the eagle would bear a unique rune. Which would bind the winds and push them forward. The statuettes were intended to be gifts for Kallak’s ships he would create. When placed upon the stern of the ship and activated, the bound winds would be blown into the sails. Ensuring swift travels. The statuettes could work for days on end, lest they would catch fire but it would still be a valuable tool.
And so many more projects gained shape. Several of the Emissaries had continued their teaching of magic to those chosen worthy enough by the Sancta Civitas bureaucracy. The Eloxochitl teaching spells cared little for the mechanics behind the choosing of their students. Meanwhile, a handful of Itztli were training some truly courageous goblins in the sorcerous arts. Finally, two Eloxochitli were doing nothing but imbuing the Vessels of The Library with their magical knowledge and storing away the result. Several rooms had already been completely filled with clay tablets.
A druid of the Circle of Guiding Lights entered Sancta Civitas. Emissaries instantly know something’s up and ask him if they can ask him some questions. He accepts and the questions are asked in The Library. Where the druid happily obliges but refuses to actually showcase any powers. Then they implore him to try and fill a vessel, which he does. The result is a mural of him drinking from the Hir. The knowledge of how to become a druid of the Guiding Lights has now been eternalized.
Meanwhile the Itztli builders are helping to build a very large granary/hive near one of the western gates. So plenty of produce can be stored there.
And finally the Eloxochitli are crafting small statuettes of eagles with runes on them. These eagles, when activated, would push the wind forward. They are intended to be put on the stern of ships so when the wind is weak, these statuettes can be used to push the ship forward still. Also, several Itztli and Eloxochitli are teaching magic and are filling the library with their own spells.
Post Length: 7.6K words + 4 Prestige >> Sancta Civitas + 4 Prestige >> The Emissaries + 4 Prestige >> Circle of the Guiding Light - 5 Prestige: Improving an existing settlement >> The Emissaries
“How has it been, old friend?” A gentle but disembodied voice said to Orb. Who was comfortably waiting in a sack until he could continue on his teachings. He instantly recognized the voice as that of his creator.
“It’s been going well, sir.” The cheery if not excessively single-minded creation said. “Lucia has made great progress across the past 730.533 cycles. She even made progress into her own kind of spells. As a teacher, I must say that I am very proud of her achievement.”
Qael’Naath knew that those weren’t genuine feelings. Orb was simply created with a set of mimicked feelings from mortals. Someone having a sense of pride in you makes you feel good about yourself. To the god of magic it was simply toying with the chemicals of mortals but Orb didn’t know that. To orb, what he felt was not a falsehood created to make others happy students. It was as real and genuine as anything else. Sadly if it was ever compared to a real mortals emotions, it would look nothing alike.
“Good.” The god of magic said. “Very good. Where are you now Orb?”
“In a sack, sir.” Orb answered in a matter of fact way.
This took the Winds of Magic, and Qael by extension, by surprise. Did Lucia put him in a sack when she was done with him? No, no she was far too kind for that. Something else had to have put him in there. “Why are you in a sack? Who put you there?”
“I don’t know sir.” Orb answered.
“How did you even end up there? How long have you been in there?”
“I don’t know sir.”
Qael let out a sigh. Of course, Orb was nothing more than a strict automaton who teaches magic and nothing more. The journal he kept only detailed magical teachings and progress. Nothing else. For a moment he wondered if he should elevate Orb’s consciousness and thus make him more free to make his own decisions. But no, that would defeat his purpose all together. Nor was it his duty to defend himself. He was Lucia’s responsibility. He would have to ask her why exactly he was put in a sack. For now, he simply poured his own divine knowledge into the very willing vessel. Orb’s externals and internals quickly changed to accept the divine knowledge. Inside it was all catalogued and neatly stored for future teachings. On his shell, this change was shown as runes appearing on his shell.
When the god of magic was done, he did desire to leave a message. It felt like a strange desire. Something a mortal would feel. Yet Lucia had told him to care and oddly enough he found himself caring for Lucia now. At least a little bit. “Orb. I need you to do one more thing. I want you to pass Lucia a message when she finds you.”
“I am not made to store messages, sir. I can only made to teach magic.” Orb responded.
“Just make it happen, Orb.” Qael said.
Several of Orb’s new runes lit up across his shell for a moment and then faded again. “I can take your message now, sir.”
“Tell her-“ What really was he going to tell her? He had no clue. It all felt so strange. “Tell her I hope she is doing well and that she’s happy. I’m still grateful for our conversation and I’m doing my best to learn how to care. Though it isn’t easy for a god like me. Tell her I will always listen to her prayers. Tell her I miss her and I hope I could talk to her again soon.”
“I will relay your message to Lucia then, sir.” Orb said in confirmation. But the link between creator and creation was already severed. Toraan had Orb. Sooner or later some mages would ask him to settle down with them. Creating the second epicenter of magical knowledge in this world. Mydia was blessed with the first: The Library. A place where people could store their spells for all eternity. One region of Galbar remained devoid of magical support though: Kubrajzar. It was, in fact, a region that Qael’Naath himself hadn’t paid much attention to even before he vanished. Now that he looked upon it, he really should have. Somehow his Itztli were there yet without a single Eloxochitli to lead them. For a moment he feared they would’ve descended into barbarism.
Nothing appeared further from the truth. While their cottages and adobes were humble and small, their grand pyramids rose proud beyond the canopy of the jungle. Massive irrigation channels had been dug out and fortified. Allowing food to grow in abundance. Obelisks lined the main roads and within the barracks he saw how they fought: with magic and weapons combined as one. With every strike a blast echoed yet the force was deflected not only with their shields but with their wills. Every strike, every defense was an move of both sorcerous magic and physical brawn.
There was one thing missing though: spells. Despite their innate connection to mana and sorcery, it would seem that the priests had barely begun to understand the concept of spells. Like the monuments they build, the Itztli were strong and mighty but crude and lacked elegance. It would not do. They needed help to create their spells.
~
It was on a morning in the early parts of the Cycle that Sekhem woke up and found the Prism of Omathaequai.
Qael’Naath connects with Orb and ask how things are. Orb says Lucia has grown as a mage and he’s quite proud of it. Even though he is an unfeeling automaton. When Qael asks where he is, he answers that he is in a sack. When the god of magic asks why, how, who, Orb simply answers that he doesn’t know. Qael gives Orb the knowledge of spells to teach and then also leaves a message of Lucia.
After his little reconnection with Orb, he creates a third important object for magic, which is named the Prism of Omathaequai.
Qael’Naath start: 4MP/5DP - 1 DP: advance title on Orb: Magic Mentor III: When the pupil has a good grasp on both the inner workings of sorcery and mana, Orb will commence his in-depth teachings on the four frameworks to cast spells: incantation, somatic, iconographic and materialistic spells. He will only accept a pupil’s education is finished when they are capable of using each framework fluidly but also in combination of each other. - 2 DP: Create the “Prism of Omathaequai”
Spell-Forge II – The Prism can open up and shows the structures and shapes mana takes when creating a spell within the Prism. Showing what specific instructions work and which don’t. For example: the instruction to extract fuel from stone for a fire would fail to be made, while the instruction to take fuel from wood would be successful. Specifically, structures of light form to represent the various instructions clarified through common symbols (like a raindrop for water) or a few words written in the first language the owner (the person who last touched it) has learned. When the created constructions are combined to make the spell, those instructions that would fail light up red indicating the error. When a spell is complete, the structures of light form a complete circular shape through which lines of mana flow constantly. The opened prism would create an area in which the light can be shown that is about 50cm to 50cm to 20cm.
Orb: - 1 Prestige: A small impressive feat beyond their established abilities: Relay a literal message from Qael to Lucia exactly once. End prestige: 9
DracoLunaris
Lord Zee
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