Knowledge of Past and Future
"I can't believe you let them through." Sindel groaned, following Dran as soon as the high-priest came back from his teleportation to the Test of Faith; he had come back with an expression on his face that Sindel had found difficult to interpret. "Sindel, my dear," Dran began rather soothingly and took the priestess' arm to lead her away from the spot they stood in, "It had to be done. And besides, we've went through this before; I cannot just send all my henchmen into the Test and hope to god your ex-team is destroyed. Quite frankly, that would just be silly...and rather stupid." His expression brightened at his words although Sindel's frown did not get any less deep. The two were heading towards Dran's personal chambers, which were now shared entirely by Sindel, and Sindel was more than happy to leave the illithid-filled chambers that Dran had introduced her to.
A breeze floated through a nearby window and Sindel was attracted by it, "But Dran," She whined childishly and walked over to the window, dragging the priest along with her, "I really don't like the idea of them getting so close to you -- us. I mean, I understand that their blatantly barbaric refusal to our pleas of mercy have been fruitless and that they have to suffer the consequences now, but still --" She leaned out the window and clutched the red velvet drapes that hung on each side of it for support, "-- I'm simply convinced that there's some easier way to dispose of them. Wouldn't you agree, dear? Honestly now, aren't we taking chances...gambling with our lives like this?" She finished, inhaling the crisp autumn air that wafted in through the window. She pondered for a moment about the breathtaking view that the spires of Darkmoon offered; it was such a perfectly placed building.
Patience was not Dran's virtue, "Yes, of course there's an easier way, but I haven't thought of it yet! So for now on, I'm just going to tighten up ranks up here and set a few goodies out for your team to hassle with. You really must trust me on this one." Dran fumed with an edge in voice; he waited impatiently for Sindel to leave the window sill alone and then promptly pried her away when she didn't budge. "Where are they going now that they've past the Test of Faith?" Sindel asked, her voice darkening to reveal her apprehension; her hands tightened about Dran's sleeve. The high-priest looked down at her and smiled an oddly disconcerting smile, "They're going to meet the Frost Giants. They are very territorial and won't tolerate intruders; you would not believe the trouble I went through to lodge them here within the temple. " He said simply, as though the whole world should have been aware of that fact. His emerald eyes scanned Sindel's face and her frown betrayed her silence; with a chuckle, Dran patted the priestess' shoulder and decided to keep the technicalities of Darkmoon to himself.
***
"Oh my hand!" Will yelled, though not at the pain but at the simple fact that his palm now sported the mark of Darkmoon. At first, when his team had asked him to wear the robes of Darkmoon, it had been a sacrifice; but now, now he had to bear the wicked temple's mark too! He wondered for a moment if he should just give up religion altogether if he would have to keep switching faiths; then he figured that inside, if not outside, he was still a pious man of his own religion. Then, the priest's mind moved to more pressing matters: Sindel and Dran Draggore. He swallowed and took a deep breath as the urge to vomit came over him; he should have known. He should have known Sindel would never hold out, she was too independent, too chaotic to stay tied to her party members. Ungrateful wench, Will swore at the departed priestess -- and immediately brought his hand to his forehead; he didn't feel all that well.
"You doing alright?" Meeks piped, coming up beside the cleric and tapping his shoulder with the blade of her polearm, "You don't look so hot." She frowned concernedly. Will shooed her away with a flick of his wrist, "I'm fine, Meeks. Just fine." He said quietly; Meeks, satisfied, shrugged and turned back to Elyxya and San-Raal. "You guys ready to go through the teleporter?" She asked to the two as much as to the rest of the team who stood back, examining their new palm markings. Elyxya nodded and pushed San-Raal in front of her, "Yep, we're ready to go." She said brightly and the little mage in front of her smoothed his dark robes then nodded in turn. Meeks smiled at them and directed her gaze to the others in the back, "And what about you guys? Are we all ready to go?" She asked a second time. Nightshade unsheathed her sword and ran her fingers through her hair, "Of course, Meeks." She said with a gleam of excitement in her black eyes; beside the older thief, Pryzma fiddled uncomfortably with the mark of Darkmoon in her hand, "I'm ready to go...but this thing better not be hindrance to my magic." She said with a pout and forced herself not to pay any more attention to it by hiding her hand behind her back.
Last but not least, Masoj stepped up before the impatient Meeks and held his hand up for the warrior to see the new dragon marking, "It's annoying me." He complained curtly and raised an eyebrow at Meeks. The dim-witted fighter bit her lip and then threw out her arms in a rush-gesture, "What do you want me to do about it?!" She cried exasperatedly, her mind set on getting the hell out of the Test of Faith. Masoj shrugged and balled his fingers into a fist, "You know," He began and put on a desperate, annoyed expression, "I really...don't...know." He said and his arm fell limp at his side. For the first time since she had known him, Meeks wondered at Masoj's sanity; then, she figured that a mage's most prized possession was his hands, and she gave the drow reason for his frustration. "Just...think of something else, alright?" Meeks said finally; Masoj blinked as if to say say what?' and Meeks placed a kiss on his nose to make his rising temper simmer. The wizard exhaled loudly and cursed women for being so manipulative.
Nightshade had already stalked up to the shimmering light of the teleporter, "Good then, let's get out of here!" She urged and the team followed as she stepped through the portal. When the team stepped through, they arrived in a huge audience hall that was brightly lit and vacant; the ceiling was amazingly high. Directly in front of them was an abnormally large throne mounted on a high dias; to the left of the throne was a hallway that went off far enough for discerning the end of it was impossible. The whole room was built in a stone the differed from that of the rest of the temple; it was crystal-like and blue in color, to the touch it was cold.
San-Raal turned around when he had stepped through the teleporter and watched the thing vanish, "If we were planning to leave by that way, we're out of luck." He declared to the team and they all looked to where the wizard pointed; except Elyxya, who stood staring at the wide room in open reverie. The teleporter's pink crystalline structure dissipated into nothingness and a slab of cold blue stone took it's place. "Oh, shitty." Meeks said simply and turned back to the large chair behind her, "Why's it so big?" She asked dumbly, shaking her head in confusion. Luckily for the other members of the team, Meeks' question was answered for her.
***
"Sindel, come here." Dran said with a cheer in his tone, "I want you to hear this." He was sitting in one of the well-cushioned seats of his lounging room, where he and Sindel had had their first real talk; in his hands he held a large, open book. The high-priestess came to him then, and sat down across from him with a goblet of water in her hands, "What is it?" She asked curiously, leaning forward to get a good look at the book Dran held. With a sigh of derision, the priest shook his head, "There's nothing for you to see, just listen to what I read to you." He said, running his fingers along the length of the gilded page. After shooting a final glare at Sindel, Dran began to read out of the great book, "When the priest of serpents strays and finds the daughter of vice and virtue, an empire will be built. Foes to friends, bliss. Friends to foes, chaos. When all seems lost, the child who is not will come and take the blessed city's throne." He finished and looked inquiringly up at Sindel, "What do you think?" He asked her when she met his gaze.
Sindel cleared her throat, "I don't know." She made a dismissive gesture, "What is it? What book is it from?" She asked, trying to see for herself but unable to accomplish the task. Dran raised the book to show her the cover; it was plain and free of inscriptions, "It's a book I've had for long time. It's a prophecy." He said matter-of-factly, watching as Sindel reached out to touch the rough surface of the book. She frowned up at Dran, "A prophecy?" She asked incredulously, beginning to toy with a strand of her hair, "You read prophetic books outside of your religious beliefs?" She pressed on. A wave of annoyance swept over Dran's sharp features, "You are not in a position to lecture me about religious beliefs." He pointedly reminded the priestess and leaned back in his chair, "It's the entire telling of the history and future of the Waterdeep. It's a text from my homeland that I've always found intriguing." He continued. Sindel let go of her hair and rested her shifty hands in her blue-robed lap, "I'd say so; I enjoy prophecies too. But, why did you read that particular passage to me, Dran? I'm afraid I'm not very good at interpreting predictions." She admitted, her curiosity overwhelming her slight irritation.
Dran's eyes darkened, "Oh. Darn. I was hoping you could clear things up for me." He said desolately. Within seconds, Sindel started up, "What do you mean? Clear what up for you? Whatever it is, I can try; go on, don't just stare at me like that." She urged like a child, her eyes shimmering. Dran couldn't help but smile; Sindel was attractive when she wasn't frowning or yelling or cursing or scowling, "I read that particular passage to you because lately, it's been applying to you and I." He said and Sindel hastily snatched the book from his hands and re-read the prophetic passage to herself. When she was done, she looked up from the text and shook her head in confusion, "I don't see it." She declared. Dran's eyes narrowed impatiently, "Look closer, my dear." He hissed, beginning to believe that Sindel must have been quite useless during theological researches within her old temple.
"So...you would be this priest of serpents' and I would be the daughter of vice and virtue'?" Sindel asked slowly after many moments of fruitless contemplation on her part, "How can that be? How would such titles apply to us? I mean, as far as I know, I don't have a vice -- I'm as close to perfect as one can get." She said petulantly and Dran rolled his eyes and held his tongue, "And you? A serpent priest'? What???" She cried, absolutely unable to make any connection whatsoever and beginning to wish she would, instead, have pretended to understand. Dran held up a finger and decided to take this one cautious step at a time, "First of all, Sindel, prophecies aren't always exact; everyone knows that." He paused for he knew that the next thing that would come out would be a sensitive part, "And you, no matter how many times you deny it, are far from perfect." He flinched when Sindel's deep frown came back accompanied by that wonderful glare of hers, "Don't look at me like that, please. To explain my title, I can only think of one thing; the symbol I've chosen to represent Darkmoon with." He said shortly and looked Sindel in the eye. Sindel seemed to think for a moment and added bluntly, "Your eyes don't help the serpent thing, you know; that could have been taken into consideration during the scribing of the prophecy. You really do have snake eyes." She said, suddenly recalling the beautiful jem-statue of the red dragon near the cursed illithid chamber.
Dran blinked at the comment; he looked startled and quite frankly, caught off guard, "Yes...I suppose. Do mind your comments, Sindel, I can get offended really easily. You're much the same, as I can recall and deduce from our stay." He scolded, a frown of his own now appearing on his face. Sindel thought of apologizing but dismissed the crazy thought; she was right, no sense in excusing the obvious. Quickly enough, she changed the subject, "So if that is us they're talking about in the book, than what does the rest of it mean? What's all this stuff about friends and foes and chaos...and not to mention the thing about the child who is not' coming back to take the Waterdeep's throne." She paused for a split-second, "Waterdeep doesn't even have a throne! All we have is an archmage," She and Dran shared a moment of grumbling at the mention of the city's archmage, "and a few overlords! No kings." She said decisively and crossed her arms over her chest negatively. The woman's explanation did not content Dran, "Things can change, you know." He said simply and was answered rudely by Sindel, "You're really into this, aren't you? What if it's not true?" She asked defiantly.
Dran raised an eyebrow at her and his odd eyes flashed, "What if it is?"
***
One would expect the ground to shake at the coming of a giant; unfortunately, the ground remained quite still. Meeks' dark eyes whipped to her left as an enormous figure stepped out from depths of the long hallway; she drew her polearm and heard her teammates do the same. Nightshade gasped and clutched at Pryzma's cloak when the Frost Giant had completely exited the corridor and had turned to face the intruders. The giant was male, and stood about fifteen feet tall; he was bearded and wore armor, as well as a great flowing overcoat that identified him as an important figure.
Elyxya, who had been standing back and staring in awe at her surroundings, finally showed signs of life. Unlike the others, she did not flinch at the sight of the Frost Giant; instead, her gaze seemed to be soothed by the particular sight. She seemed almost in recognition Beside her, San-Raal neared the climactic words of a paralysis spell; "Don't, San-Raal." Elyxya breathed to him, breaking the wizard's concentration instantly. San-Raal's jaw dropped and he looked over at her pleadingly. She did not return his gaze. The whole team seemed stunned until the giant spoke in a thunderous voice, "Halt! Who goes there?" He demanded of the insignificantly sized party that had intruded into his home. The dialect the giant used was unknown to the members of the party...to all, that is, except Elyxya.
The red-headed warrior pushed her way through to the front of her team and dropped to one knee before the gargantuan Frost Giant, "Hail, my Lord!" She intoned, loud and clear, in the giant's native tongue. There were gasps amongst the team, all were confused as to what was going on; but they figured that if Elyxya could communicate with the giant, then the team wouldn't have to fight him. On seeing Elyxya, the Frost Giant's stiff posture slackened, "I am Elyxya Black and these are my friends; we have come to rid the Waterdeep of Dran Draggore and this cursed temple on the orders of Khelben Blackstaff." Elyxya explained in the foreign tongue that not even the team mages knew. The Frost Giant, perplexed, sat atop his huge throne and questioned Elyxya; the conversation between the two went on for about fifteen minutes, leaving the rest of the party astonished and grateful of delaying a future confrontation with the massive man.
When the words had stopped flowing between the two, the Frost Giant spoke a summons that commanded the teleporter, that had once been behind the team, to reappear. He then got up from his seat, inclined his head in recognition to Elyxya (a move which was mirrored by the warrior herself), and left the room to disappear back into the hallway to the left. Elyxya turned back to her team with a smile on her lips.
"We're free to go straight to the spires of Darkmoon. That's where we can find Dran." She declared quaintly. She began to head for the teleporters but Meeks dashed after her and stood firmly in her way, "Oh no you don't! Not until you tell the rest of us what happened with the Frost Giant." She said decisively. The rest of the group gathered around Elyxya then and eyed her curiously, "Oh alright." The red-head said exasperatedly. She turned to Meeks first, "I've never told you this, Meeks, but I'm not fully human." She said apocalyptically, the anger that should have appeared on her friend's face was replaced with a look of interest, "My grandfather is a Frost Giant; I know it sounds funny and completely impossible...and it is. You see," She went on, looking up at the interminably high ceiling above her, "My grandmother went on a trip once and went through a Frost Giant village; she met my grandfather. They fell in love. She asked a mage she if he could shapeshift my grandfather into a normal size for a day; my grandma payed the mage and finally the deed was done. They had my mother; my mother was of human appearance because the shapeshifting magic dulled the actual gene that would have made her a hybrid." She finished with a sigh and looked around at her group with ahopeful expression.
Meeks blinked dazedly, "Oh." She said, realizing the confession made absolutely no difference in the way she saw her best friend; she smiled up at Masoj who stared blankly down at her. San-Raal looked Elyxya up and down, "Interesting." He said, thinking to himself about a multitude of different things. Will, never shakeable, asked more questions, "So what did you say to the giant? Why aren't we all dead?" He asked honestly. Masoj chuckled.
"I told him who we were and what we were here for. He asked me why we were going to take this place down. I told him him everything about Khelben and Dran and the confusion they've put us through, and he said he'd let us go see the High-Priest if we promised to leave the Frost Giants alone and not involve them in any of our troubles; I agreed and he wished me luck on my mission." She explained curtly and frowned at San-Raal who examined her still. Masoj put his hands on Meeks' shoulders, "Why are the giants even here?" He asked brightly and welcomed the warmth of Meeks' small hand atop his. Elyxya licked her lips, "Shelter." She said, "Dran accepted them in after their clan had a war; they're great guards." She piped optimistically. "There's more of them here?" Nightshade asked from the back. Elyxya nodded quickly, "Oh yes, they hate to live alone. There's a dozen of them in the temple -- down that hallway." She said and pointed to the left.
"Alright then, that means we have to go near Dran now." Pryzma said and breathed deeply, "Why don't we contact Khelben and tell him what's going on?" She proposed to Will directly. The priest pulled at the cuffs of his red robe, "That's a splendid idea, Pryzma." He cheered, taking his backpack off of his shoulders to rummage through it for the golden coin that allowed the team to communicate with the archmage. He pulled it out tiumphantly and smiled trustingly at the crew, "Let's see what guidance we can receive from Khelben." He said. The group sat down and most just drifted off to ignore the whole event, unsure about their loyalties.