The Beastmen are livid. All brandish weapons, calling for your immediate death.
“STOP!” A commanding voice demands. Suddenly there is complete silence. There, descending the stairs into the area, is an old Elk Beastman with enormous antlers, still muscle-bound even after his many years. “You bring great dishonour to our people, my son. Why do you persecute these foreigners!”
“They are Tris, father! The ancient debt cannot be forgiven!”
The father looks at you in silence for a moment.
“I find no fault in them.” He firmly states.
“What? Don’t be a fool old man! They are Tris! We saw their city of wings! I have tested them on the totem of the Tris! You cannot turn you back on the old ways…”
“And you,” the father interrupts, “Cannot turn aside from what our people must become. The old debt grows wearisome and can no longer serve our people in their best interests. The Tris tyrants have been fallen a thousand years, how can their children be held responsible for their parents’ crimes any longer?”
The boy does not answer.
“You have dishonoured me by declaring these worthy of death without my or your mothers agreement. You have shamed us son. And you have shamed the earth mother, who does not support you in this murder, and has allowed Gorka Mornga to be wounded for your foolishness!”
Raining Day says no more, but suddenly flees his fathers’ chastisement in tear filled rage.
“Come,” Says Night Song calmly, King of the Beastmen, “We have much to apologise for.”
Friday, May 21, 2010
Friday, May 7, 2010
Tour caverns of the Tris, part 2: The inner sanctum
The sanctum
Foyer
The room you are teleported to is perfectly octagonal and perfectly exact in every measurement. It is not large, only about 30 feet across, with the large stone table you currently have your hands on in the centre.
Surrounding the room are eight walls, each with a strange symbol in the centre.
Near the north wall a trail of black dust leads into the wall, where a small glass key lies, seeming undisturbed in centuries… Finally, there is here an Umberhulk skeleton, 2 or 3 hundred years old...
Abjuration
This room is octagonal, inscribed with three concentric circles of protection. Cleverly cut into the walls are shelves, books, and a desk, but no sign of sleeping quarters. The upholstery is mostly silver and black. An open book sits on the desk with a silver goblet beside it.
Conjuration
This octagonal room is brown, with a light blue summoning circle permanently inscribed in the floor in turquoise stone. A bed, study desk, and a broken book shelf are all that remain.
Divination
This room is light blue, and smells delightfully like a fresh winter morning. Delicate white lace patterns line the top of the room. There is little here but an ornate bed, a well preserved rug, a magical painting depicting a forest scene, and a humainoid skeleton blasted against a heavily cracked and chared desk.
Enchantment
As soon as you enter, you hear the words “I cannot leave the room, I cannot leave… hello, what is this?” There, lying luxuriously on the bed, is the most otherworldly handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. With seductious glee he offers “Hello, wont you come sit by me?”
Evocation
This room is unnaturally cold. It might have been glorious once, but the red drapes and finery are all but discarded with age and disuse. All furniture has been destroyed by time. A desiccated skeleton lies on the floor, a key clutched in its hands, pawing at the door.
Illusion
This room is beautiful, built for a male human to enjoy a rich degree of luxury, the magical plate still forming delicious sweetmeats even after all these years. An illusionary harp and viol play soothing music to an empty room.
Necromancy
This room looks well attended to, and none of the dust and mould of a thousand years clutters the air. It is well arrayed with black drapes, and everburning candles light the desk where a skeleton sits as if writing.
Suddenly, the skeleton turns to face you, and in a cruel, hollow voice whispers.
“1000 years, and suddenly a visitor? I have long since surrendered to despair. Perhaps you have come to amuse me?”
“At first, it seemed like such fun. We were going to master the time portal ourselves, the Evoker and I, and slay the rest as soon as it began to function. Well, function it did, and as was my part of the bargain I set about slaying all the other wizards, beginning with the conjurer… I still remember his screams…. Then I raised him as an undead to continue my work. Well, the others had turned on each other already by then, so it was a simple matter of preventing their escapes, much simpler than we first envisioned. How the Transmuter bled!
“Even so, I always knew the Evoker would betray me. He wanted me to be his axe of execution… it was too tempting an offer to refuse… but then he planned to throw me aside. But I was too clever for him, and had a special spell designed just when he did, a little heart worm it was! Ha ha! … oh… oh I wish I could have seen that!
“But I see you have entered in now. So I must assume you have my key, or his. Well, I’ll be taking my key back now, or I will have the pleasure of watching you die…
Transmutation
This room is full of devices of wonder and merriment – all broken. Seemingly once magical toys for children fill a room, but no wizard has dwelt here for a long time. Even as you look about, the change in the air causes a rotten shelf to go crashing to the floor. There is what appears to be a form of bed, but it might have folded up to make a riding pony, a desk that might have also been a dress, and a mirror that looks like it was once used as a drink dispenser…
Riddle;
The one thing that is always constant.
After me, all things are different
Before me, they are not what they have become
Without me, no boy would become a man
No seed a flower, no
And whatever else you can say of me
I am the opposite of ‘constant’.
The inner sanctum.
You are standing on a circular platform in a strange, perfectly spherical room. In the centre of the room an enormous clear quartz looms, floating in mid air. A scintillating purple light glows from it’s heart, projecting through the cracks and pits in its surface, to cover the walls completely in strange lines, symbols, and starfields. It looks as though it might have been used in some kind of calculation, but whatever it was used for must have been immense. The patterns appear to shine right through people somehow to cover the walls of this strange, small room. The air is fresh, but filled with a tangible sense of arcane power and mystery.
Epilogue
It is a fortnight in the making; the great circle of honesty that will finally compel all who promise honesty to deliver it. Within that circle, even the lies one might tell themselves are revealed. And at the centre of the circle a great stone will be healed.
Mingla, the Turquoise, in the hallowed hall overlooking the sky market. Mingla is a massive crystal, covering most of the floor, rising up in irregular lumps that easily form comfortable seating, covering herself with all kinds of mosses and flowers. Patrons come here daily to gain insight into their own lives, and discuss how to make their desires a reality in this world.
At first silent, within a day the many projections of Mingla are chatting again, but no more are they confused and ill, but rather they are clear minded, honest and perceptive. One of those images now approach you, with long brown hair and dark turquoise eyes she bounces up to you, eagre to talk.
“Thankyou.” She says, “Thankyou. This will make such a difference… thankyou.” She says, and bounces off again on her endless quest to love well and always speak the truth.
Foyer
The room you are teleported to is perfectly octagonal and perfectly exact in every measurement. It is not large, only about 30 feet across, with the large stone table you currently have your hands on in the centre.
Surrounding the room are eight walls, each with a strange symbol in the centre.
Near the north wall a trail of black dust leads into the wall, where a small glass key lies, seeming undisturbed in centuries… Finally, there is here an Umberhulk skeleton, 2 or 3 hundred years old...
Abjuration
This room is octagonal, inscribed with three concentric circles of protection. Cleverly cut into the walls are shelves, books, and a desk, but no sign of sleeping quarters. The upholstery is mostly silver and black. An open book sits on the desk with a silver goblet beside it.
Conjuration
This octagonal room is brown, with a light blue summoning circle permanently inscribed in the floor in turquoise stone. A bed, study desk, and a broken book shelf are all that remain.
Divination
This room is light blue, and smells delightfully like a fresh winter morning. Delicate white lace patterns line the top of the room. There is little here but an ornate bed, a well preserved rug, a magical painting depicting a forest scene, and a humainoid skeleton blasted against a heavily cracked and chared desk.
Enchantment
As soon as you enter, you hear the words “I cannot leave the room, I cannot leave… hello, what is this?” There, lying luxuriously on the bed, is the most otherworldly handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. With seductious glee he offers “Hello, wont you come sit by me?”
Evocation
This room is unnaturally cold. It might have been glorious once, but the red drapes and finery are all but discarded with age and disuse. All furniture has been destroyed by time. A desiccated skeleton lies on the floor, a key clutched in its hands, pawing at the door.
Illusion
This room is beautiful, built for a male human to enjoy a rich degree of luxury, the magical plate still forming delicious sweetmeats even after all these years. An illusionary harp and viol play soothing music to an empty room.
Necromancy
This room looks well attended to, and none of the dust and mould of a thousand years clutters the air. It is well arrayed with black drapes, and everburning candles light the desk where a skeleton sits as if writing.
Suddenly, the skeleton turns to face you, and in a cruel, hollow voice whispers.
“1000 years, and suddenly a visitor? I have long since surrendered to despair. Perhaps you have come to amuse me?”
“At first, it seemed like such fun. We were going to master the time portal ourselves, the Evoker and I, and slay the rest as soon as it began to function. Well, function it did, and as was my part of the bargain I set about slaying all the other wizards, beginning with the conjurer… I still remember his screams…. Then I raised him as an undead to continue my work. Well, the others had turned on each other already by then, so it was a simple matter of preventing their escapes, much simpler than we first envisioned. How the Transmuter bled!
“Even so, I always knew the Evoker would betray me. He wanted me to be his axe of execution… it was too tempting an offer to refuse… but then he planned to throw me aside. But I was too clever for him, and had a special spell designed just when he did, a little heart worm it was! Ha ha! … oh… oh I wish I could have seen that!
“But I see you have entered in now. So I must assume you have my key, or his. Well, I’ll be taking my key back now, or I will have the pleasure of watching you die…
Transmutation
This room is full of devices of wonder and merriment – all broken. Seemingly once magical toys for children fill a room, but no wizard has dwelt here for a long time. Even as you look about, the change in the air causes a rotten shelf to go crashing to the floor. There is what appears to be a form of bed, but it might have folded up to make a riding pony, a desk that might have also been a dress, and a mirror that looks like it was once used as a drink dispenser…
Riddle;
The one thing that is always constant.
After me, all things are different
Before me, they are not what they have become
Without me, no boy would become a man
No seed a flower, no
And whatever else you can say of me
I am the opposite of ‘constant’.
The inner sanctum.
You are standing on a circular platform in a strange, perfectly spherical room. In the centre of the room an enormous clear quartz looms, floating in mid air. A scintillating purple light glows from it’s heart, projecting through the cracks and pits in its surface, to cover the walls completely in strange lines, symbols, and starfields. It looks as though it might have been used in some kind of calculation, but whatever it was used for must have been immense. The patterns appear to shine right through people somehow to cover the walls of this strange, small room. The air is fresh, but filled with a tangible sense of arcane power and mystery.
Epilogue
It is a fortnight in the making; the great circle of honesty that will finally compel all who promise honesty to deliver it. Within that circle, even the lies one might tell themselves are revealed. And at the centre of the circle a great stone will be healed.
Mingla, the Turquoise, in the hallowed hall overlooking the sky market. Mingla is a massive crystal, covering most of the floor, rising up in irregular lumps that easily form comfortable seating, covering herself with all kinds of mosses and flowers. Patrons come here daily to gain insight into their own lives, and discuss how to make their desires a reality in this world.
At first silent, within a day the many projections of Mingla are chatting again, but no more are they confused and ill, but rather they are clear minded, honest and perceptive. One of those images now approach you, with long brown hair and dark turquoise eyes she bounces up to you, eagre to talk.
“Thankyou.” She says, “Thankyou. This will make such a difference… thankyou.” She says, and bounces off again on her endless quest to love well and always speak the truth.
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