After your week of rest, your 'holiday' as the locals call it, you are ready to spend this week productively. That is why you are here in the study, staring at the back of your eyes. You want to determine if you can still access the Beyond. The problem you have run into almost immediately is that you do not know how people do so. You had always previously been present in both the physical world and the Beyond, now you lack that connection and you struggle to figure out how to return. You open your eyes, staring at the wall. You feel incredibly stupid for attempting something you knew would not work. If you want to access the Beyond it seems you will need to speak to one of your mages.
You decide that you will begin your investigation with Xandar. Merrill is usually a better source for knowledge, true. In this case, however, you want to know how mages access the Beyond naturally. Since you lack the talents of a mage, their training and knowledge will not help you. Your best chance is to figure out what it is that lets them do so in the first place and try to replicate it yourself. You find Xandar talking to Ranger, not too far from the entranceway.
"Revered Teacher!" Xandar calls out as he sees you.
"Xandar. I had hoped to as you a few questions if I am not interrupting anything?" You tell your student.
"I'm always at your service Most Revered One!" Xandar replies, bouncing in place.
You could hear the capitals in his words, it is well past time you addressed this. "Xandar, call me by my name or call me teacher. There are to be no further exaggerated titles."
"But…" Xandar begins.
"I am not going to be swayed on this. My name, or a title that means something. No more of this comical flattery." You repeat, tone stern and gaze uncompromising.
"Yes teacher." Xandar says, seeming somewhat dejected.
Ranger's amused huffs remind you of his presence.
"Was I interrupting something? I can return at a later date, if it is more convenient." You inform him.
"Nah. We're just plannin' our little excursion. Want to make sure there's nothin' else out there like that dragon." Ranger answers your concerns in a careless tone.
"Excellent. I hope the two of you are careful, I do not wish for either of you to be hurt." Sending them out into the forest without you is likely to be perfectly safe, you will simply have to keep reminding yourself of that fact.
You turn back to Xandar. "How do you access the Beyond?"
"You mean the Fade? The place where the Maker lives?" Xandar asks.
You have no idea what he is talking about, so you expand on your earlier question. "I mean the green place that is easily twisted by the will of those who visit. The place where spirits are, the thing on the other side of the Veil. Nobody knows where the One dwells. Even Morgoth could not find him in a thousand years of searching."
"Morgoth?" Xandar perks up, obviously interested.
"Powerful spirit, very evil. Please answer my question." You try to drag Xandar away from his questions of cosmology.
"Well I used to end up there when I slept. But ever since the barrier went up, I can't go there anymore. Merrill's been doing some of our lessons outside since it makes it hard to use magic."
Now that Xandar mentions it, Merrill had mentioned success in creating a barrier would prevent people accessing the Beyond. You will have to continue your investigations outside.
"There was nothing else then? Just when you sleep?" You press Xandar further.
Xandar shrugs. "Well, you can use Lyrium to sort of visit in spirit. Apparently, the Circle has some kind of way of visiting too. Assuming that is not yet another lie by the Chantry. But yeah, mostly just when I sleep."
Despite the disheartening news, you make sure to thank Xandar. He seems honoured by your praise. You are going to need to do something about him sooner or later.
You take a seat outside your walls, watching the business of your orchards. You do not seem to have any of the options the local mages do. Talking to Merrill had gotten very similar answers as Xandar had given you. She had explained that everyone visits the Beyond in their sleep, not just mages. You yourself do not think you do, but you suppose it is possible. As clouds race across the sky you come to a decision on how you will proceed with your investigation.
Your first instinct is to recreate the method by which you left the Beyond in reverse. Even when you recall the great wolf that had sought to bar your way, you are initially unafraid. Yet, you are not as your brothers and father. You restrain your impatience. You would have fought the wolf if there were no other way, but only a fool seeks a fight when he is not certain of victory. With a heavy sigh you decide to attempt to trace your dreams in your sleep. You are not yet sure of how you are going to do so, since you will be asleep and thus unable to do anything. Perhaps Merrill will have some advice.
"You want me to tell you how to stay awake while sleeping?" Merrill repeats disbelievingly.
You pinch the skin between your eyes. "I am aware of how ridiculous it sounds. I want to be conscious of my dreams and whether my mind travels to the Beyond in sleep. I had hoped that you would know techniques to aid in this."
Merrill raises a hand to her chin in thought. "Well, there are some meditation exercises we use. There's a few other things you could try. Really, we only enter the Beyond on purpose, usually with Lyrium."
You look your student in the eye. "I am not in the habit of drinking poison."
Merrill makes a displeased face. "Yes. There is that I suppose. Let me show you the exercises then."
That night you sling a hammock up in a tree and run through the exercises Merrill taught you. They are largely useless, designed to help those with human minds focus. You are both not human and far more used to focusing your mind on things you cannot easily perceive. Still, you do find them something akin to a warmup before strenuous exercise. Perhaps not strictly helpful with the task, but good to make sure that you are ready to do what you are attempting. You finish the exercises and lie down, trying to keep your mind active enough to be aware while still falling asleep.
Your consciousness slips away. You are vaguely aware of images flashing before your eyes. An eagle that lectures your staff on safety. Merrill shifting rapidly between a human and Eldarin appearance. Your mother and brothers having a party in the middle of an active volcano. You have a strange feeling, your thoughts are slow and undirected. You are aware that you are dreaming, but that realisation carries no weight and does not affect your actions in the dream. You open your eyes to see the sun rising. It seems that your efforts last night have been met with failure.
You arise and consider what you are going to be doing going forward. You have never been one to give up easily. You are once again tempted to try to reverse the process by which you exited the Beyond. Ultimately though, you do not have to do so immediately. It will be no particular demand on your time to try to remain aware while you sleep. You are also unwilling to simply accept failure so easily in this matter, or any matter really. The thought of studying the principles behind Lyrium occurs to you briefly but is discarded quickly. You will continue to practise the exercises Merrill taught you, success will be yours.
For the rest of the week, your sleep is proceeded by meditation and you lie in a hammock beyond the safety of the walls. From the very second attempt you make, you meet with some success. You become aware of your dreams to a greater extent then ever before. In truth, you could have lived without doing so. Your dreams are strange when they are not very sad. Regardless, you will endure. The third eve you find yourself able to change and control what happens in your dreams. Turning a nightmare of Thrangodrim into a slapstick comedy starring Morgoth distracts you for the entire fourth night.
By the fifth attempt you have gotten used to the sensation of being aware of your dreams as they happen. You are thus able to focus on whether or not you are in the Beyond. The short answer is no. Your soul has not moved from where it is. Which makes sense, unlike the locals you have not ties to the Beyond, and you have never heard of anyone visiting Mandos in their sleep. No sooner have you thought that, then you notice a pull on your soul. You would assume it to be the pull of the halls, but it still merits investigation.
You do not move. In truth it is difficult to describe what you do. It is a combination of the sensation of movement, and your mind informs you of changing scenery. Yet, at the same time you are conscious of your body remaining still in your bed. You also do not experience the sensation of soul being parted from body. Your mind tracks the pull to its source and you 'follow' it. Your examination comes to a sudden end when you realise where you are going. The pull originates from the other side of the Veil, either in the Beyond or past it.
You do no more that night. On the final evening of your week, you carefully attempt to enter the Beyond. The Veil, contrary to your previous attempts, welcomes you. It almost seems eager to let you pass. You are not even harmed when you extend your hand into it. It is only when you try to pull your hand out that you spot the trap. The resistance you remember, and the attack on your soul, return the moment you try to move your hand out of the Veil. If you enter the Beyond this way, it sems you will be returning to the same problem you had when you first arrived in this world. If you ever meet the person who made the Veil, you are going to have words with them.
Fighting a dragon was not Ranger's idea of a good time. They had gotten incredibly lucky last time. The elf girl deserved all the thanks she got and more. The kid reckoned that any others in the area would be obvious, but Ranger would not rest easy until he had seen them with his own eyes. Why was he bringing the elf girl's pupil? Because the man child could wave his hands and make burns vanish, which is a skill he wants if he's hunting a fire breathing lizard.
"Ya got everythin'?" Ranger asked the poorly dressed hermit.
"Yes! I am ready to go!" Xander replied overenthusiastically.
"Right. Now, follow me and don't make too much noise." Ranger tells his companion flatly.
The two men left the structure that stood in the heart of the forest. Ranger slipped through the forest like a ghost and Xandar walked along as though he were on a stroll in a park. Ranger had brought a crossbow along, along with his sling and a knife. Neither man was well suited for combat, but the forest did not treat those unready for such an eventuality well. Xandar brought a number of bandages, herbs and other remedies. He also had a staff he and Merrill had made together, the closest thing to a weapon he owned.
The two men start their search in nearby caves. Most are either empty or have the kind of animal they would expect, wolves and bears.
"I think we lost them." Xandar said, his breath coming in great gasps.
"Ya moron! If ya hadn't bolted when they started roarin' we'd have been fine." Ranger would have roared if he had the breath to do so.
After the two have regained their stamina they head off to continue their scouting expedition.
Unfortunately, their expedition ran into a problem.
"Ranger, what am I looking at?" Xandar asks.
"I have no idea." Ranger responds, entranced by what he is seeing.
Before the two is a small clearing. Despite the overcast nature of the day bright rays of sunlight fill the space. There at a small table, covered in a checkered tablecloth, sits a spider wearing a hat. Across from the spider what appears to be a bear in a wig and a dress is attempting to pour tea into the cups on the table.
The two men look at each other and come to a unanimous decision.
Ranger does not want to stay here. There is something about this whole situation that makes his hair stand on end. Since his time as a wolf he has been much more willing and able to listen to his instincts. Yet at the same time, he desperately wants to know what is going on. His shared look with Xandar reveals that the other man is just as curious. So, with great care, the two men move further into the clearing.
Ranger uses a nearby stick to seek out the almost invisible webs that usually accompany the spiders of the forest. He finds none. Xandar is attempting some kind of magic thing he doesn't understand. Presumably the hermit seeks magical dangers much like Ranger is seeking physical ones. As the two men slowly draw nearer, ready to flee at the first sign of hostility, the bear makes a strange choking sound. The spider scuttles around, hoisting itself up on its back four legs.
With a horrible cracking noise, one of the spiders front limbs bends unnaturally to doff the hat from its head.
"Oh! More guests? How wonderful. Welcome to my little gathering." An ethereal voice, more an awareness that someone has spoken then sound that is heard, echoes in Ranger's mind.
A less observant person might have missed the fierce hissing and chittering that accompanies the voice, but not Ranger. He also notices the venomous foam dripping from the spider's fangs.
"We're not here for the party. Jus' wonderin' what's goin' on here." Ranger looks at Xandar, hoping he has some answers.
Xandar is looking at the spider in a thoughtful manner.
"Not to worry. Not to worry. It is a great day to have a body is it not? I am thoroughly enjoying all the sensations I am experiencing here. Oh, let me introduce Dress Bear. A fine young lady." The spider twists bizarrely to swing its front legs in the direction of the bear.
The poor creature gives a sound more a whine than a roar.
Xandar's eyes narrow and he leans into Ranger to whisper. "The spider is possessed by some kind of spirit, I think. We should leave."
Ranger nods and speaks to the possessed spider. "Well, it's been lovely meeting ya. But we've got to go. Stuff to do ya know?"
"Oh no. Please stay, aren't we Friends?" The ethereal voice sounds distressed as it replies and there is a strange emphasis on the last word.
Ranger relaxes. Honestly, he wasn't sure why he was worried.
"Yeah, right. Sorry, it's jus' ya're a giant spider and it's creepy." He tells his new friend honestly.
"Oh dear." The spirit says. "Here let me fix that for you."
Ranger's eyes blur for a moment. When they clear the clearing is much more pleasant. There's a giant flower in the middle at which a creature that he thinks is a spider, but not one he's ever seen before. The large friendly eyes and the way it is sitting like a person make it somehow less terrifying.
"Would you like some tea?" Dress Bear, the bear in a dress, asks, extending a teacup towards him.
"That sounds nice actually." Ranger takes a step forward.
A hand clasps his shoulder. "Ranger what are you doing! We need to go!"
Who's that talking? Ranger doesn't recognise them. He thinks it's that elf, Zathrien. His hackles rise and a growl emanates from his throat, warning the elf away. His claws itch to slash and tear, but he's better than that. The Lady… who? No, it was The Spider who said so.
"Sorry about this." Zathrien says.
Ranger's head is struck by a sudden blow. He goes sprawling to the ground clutching at the point of impact.
"What was that for, ya bleedin' madman?" Ranger roared at Xandar.
"When in doubt, hit them hard." Xandar says, as though reciting some holy book.
Shaking his head to clear it, Ranger looks again at the terribly contorted giant spider.
"Is there a problem?" The ethereal voice asks.
Ranger wants this thing dead. He reaches for his crossbow, looking at Xandar. The man is looking at the spider, in all its disturbing wrongness, with a steadily growing curiosity. Xandar takes a step forward, and this time it is Ranger's turn to seize his shoulder.
"What are ya doin', ya moron!" He hissed at the bald man.
"Well the creature hasn't made any hostile motions. It is clearly dangerous, but we may have the chance to talk to it. Who knows what we might find out?" Xander replies calmly.
"What? Are ya crazy? That thing snared me with a single word. We should kill it!" Ranger growled.
"Kill it? Why? It's not doing any harm. Besides I can't fight and you only have a knife and a crossbow. What are we going to do? Annoy it to death?" Xandar snaps at his companion.
The two men's developing argument is interrupted by the scuttling sound of spider movement. Ranger becomes aware of the chittering of the puppeted creature behind him.
"What are we talking about?" The ethereal voice asks. "Are we considering violence? I don't suppose you would like to tell me why you are doing so? Can I have a turn?"
Ranger turns to see the bulk of the spider leaning down at him, its dripping fangs almost on top of him. With a yell, not a scream whatever Xandar would later claim, he ran, Xandar hot on his heels.
The two humans plunge through the undergrowth in a panicked flight. They stumble over roots, smashed through branches and bounced off trees. They come to a stop after nearly fifteen minutes of hurtling blindly through the forest. Then they hide behind a thick tree, the sounds of their desperate panting damningly loud in their ears. They waited for a short time, though it seemed far longer while they were experiencing it. They strain their ears, expecting to hear the sounds of pursuit or feel the touch of the creature on their minds. Neither comes. Eventually, the two men relax, it seems that it had no interest in pursuing them.
Finally calm, they take stock of their surroundings. Their flight had taken them away from the trails both knew. It took some time to find a way back to familiar ground. When they did so, neither felt much like continuing on their journey. With a short conference as to what they should do, the two set a course for the safety of Endataurëo.
When they arrive at the pale sandstone walls, the sun was setting. The light reflected from their new home, turning pale walls a deep orange red. The mere sight of the walls seemed to banish the last remnants of their fear, irrational though it may be. Nelyafinwë wait for them inside the gate.
"I take it from your appearance you bring ill news?" The strange elf says, his eyes gleaming with the promise of danger.
Ranger relays the tale of what they had seen, Xandar occasionally interjecting his own view of events.
"That is a concerning tale. Perhaps it would be best to keep to the roads for now." Nelyafinwë has a way of speaking that makes a suggestion sound like a command.
"That's it? Ya're not gonna do anythin' about the monster spider?"
The 'Noldo's' hand comes to rest on his sword. "For the moment, no. I have no interest in being lured into a trap."
His tone indicates he believes that is the end of the discussion. Ranger still does not know what his backstory is, but coppers to gold he's some kind of former noble. Frankly though, he doesn't care. He goes straight to bed, not even stopping for dinner. His dreams are filled with being eaten by a giant spider with perfect table manners.
Your staff are not very good at most of their jobs. They work hard and you have very few complaints about them. But they are not the Noldor you are used to. You doubt they will ever be able to reach the heights of your own people, but that does not mean they cannot improve. You have scheduled out two days or intensive lessons, in which you intend to improve the skills of those who currently work for you. The only question on your mind is who you should teach.
You are best suited to teach your warriors obviously. War is very much your field of expertise. The only trouble is that all the skill in the world will not make up for their lack of equipment. You are starting to take steps to ensure that they are all equipped though, and when they are it would be useful to have them all trained properly. There is a strong argument that you should help teach your farmers. They are the backbone of your survival here, and though they are producing far more than you expected they still do not match a Noldor. You also want to take some time to teach your vintners to make different kinds of wine, as well as improve the quality.
As you consider who you are going to teach, you notice Wesley arguing with one of the farmers. You do actually have a number of skilled practitioners around, you do not know if they would be good teachers though. Perhaps, in future, you could delegate the training of new individuals to others who work for you. For now, it would be a shame to waste the planning you have already put into this endeavour. You look over the farmers and vintners as they go about their tasks, the sound of wood hitting wood drifting from where your warriors are training themselves. You decide here and now which group will have your personal attention.
Your talents lie with the warriors. This much is simply a fact. You can ride, swing a sword and shoot a bow better than anyone else. Furthermore, you can do all of the latter from horseback. You should teach them; it is the best use of your talents. Yet, as you look over the work of your vintners you find you cannot. All the skill in the world does not matter if one does not possess the necessary tools. Wine is the mechanism by which you afford to purchase arms and armour, it will also allow you to maintain them. Though you know far less about the craft of winemaking it seems that this is the best option for the future of Endataurëo.
You walk up to your vintners. They have long since become accustomed to your habit of speaking to them while they work. Which is good, the first few days when they try to drop what they were doing are always an unnecessary annoyance.
"Good morning, everybody." You greet your workers.
"Mornin' boss." The five wine makers call back to you.
"During the next two days we are going to be undertaking a critical analysis of your work. We will question the methods you currently use and investigate potential avenues of improvement." You inform them, not wanting to seem like you are criticising their work unfairly.
"What's all that mean?" Jimothy calls out.
"He means he's gonna teach us some more, ya blockhead!" Alicent answers ahead of you.
"I am afraid that is something of an oversimplification." You gently correct. "I want to see what you are doing now and find out what could be done better. I myself am no expert on winemaking after all."
Timothan raises his hand. You look at it, and then back to him.
"Why have you raised your hand?" You ask him
He coughs, dropping his hand to his side. "I wanted to ask a question."
Several moments pass, then at a gesture from you he asks his question. "How is that different from teaching?"
"Because I do not have information to give you. I am merely facilitating experimentation and investigation you could undertake without me." You inform him.
The man still seems confused, but he asks no further questions.
Your investigation does in fact reveal a number of avenues of improvement. There are difficulties using the press that need to be addressed. The possibility for some kind of safety catch is discussed and rejected. You demonstrate proper technique for using the press without exhausting or injuring yourself. There is a discussion about what should be placed in the barrel to help with fermentation. A number of ideas of mixing other things into the wine to change the flavour. Many ideas are discussed over the course of the two days. Some are good, most are bad. It is a week of experimentation. By the end of the week these ideas have been refined, and though you only ended up with a singular result, it was worth it.
You and your vintners focus on proper production practices. You have no intention of producing cheap table wine for the rest of time. You could make far more wine from the same amount of ingredients but that would impact the quality. If you have to drink any more of the swill that passes for liquor in this area you will be driven to extreme measures. You do not expect the full effects of the wine of your people, but you do want to be able to drink it without gagging. Improving the quality is really the only option you consider.
The process of improving the wine has relatively little to do with improving the production process surprisingly. It has far more to do with the ingredients. You and the other vintners spend a great deal of time choosing the best grapes, taking cuttings with care to produce more. Justinia manages to make a crossbreed between the wild and bought grapes which she is convinced will make a wine unlike anything else. For now, you are satisfied with a general improvement in quality.