24 Nightal
They were awoken early to another summons. Their rest had been easy, the plaguing nightmare curse gone. Though it didn't stop all the nightmares. Some things could never be erased from the mind. Zyne had been the first up, not prepared for to stub his toe on the alarm system the drowess set up, sending the ball bearings and metal (stolen) silverware crashing into the ceramic pitcher.
"Jargh!" Zyne cursed in dwarvish with a few other irritated words twords the setter of the alarm, "durn elf" he mumbled. Stressing his point, he yanked the pitcher up, glaring at the drow. Zarae, sitting on the edge of the bottom bunk, shrugged with a fake innocence, though there was no doubt it was her work.
The elves had been awakened by the clash of the metal with ceramic. Ariali stretched, she in her wolf form, then doing a quick full body shake to fully awaken herself. It was a pleasant surprise that her master had allowed her to go so long without his intrusion. That put her in a good mood, a wide grin would be on her face if wolves could smile. Knowing how difficult it would be to explain a missing elf and a new lupine friend, the ranger took her elven form.
Tahlethar stole a glance out the window; it was barely dawn. He stretched from his deep trance, mumbling something about the early hour and lack of time to get properly dressed. Zyne had stepped out and quickly returned with the pitcher full of water.
They were being hurried by a third knock. "Yeah yeah. We got the first two!" Zyne hollered through the door, attempting to pull his tunic over his head. He did a quick flap of his robe, waggled a finger, and straightened out the wrinkles. The spell also clean him up, removing evidence of having just woke up. Hopping around on one foot, the drowess was fighting getting her boot on the other foot.
"If ye'd keep everything neat and organized," waving a hand over to the cleric's stuff to compare, "be able get that shoe on quicker," as she had to avoid tripping over her pile of belongings.
Zarae quickly tied up her hair in a braid, not bothering with the time to brush it.
As usual, Jinx was the hardest to awaken. The dwarf threatening to throw water on her if she didn't get up and going. Finally she opened her eyes, a low complaining growl and she swung her legs over the edge of the bunk to the floor as she stretched.
Jinx yawned as the council members took their seats. Their elven escort relieved from duty departed; Zarae gave a sarcastic wave good-bye to the baby-sitter. Of course, she knew another would be forced to step in and take the task. This would go on until they left the city.
The halfling woman stood to quiet the group. "We have spent much of the previous day and evening discussing your request." Finnea looked to the elf and the gnome, both giving her a nodding confirmation. "As a council, we decided your request is too risky without more study and experimentation."
The halfling gave a long pause waiting for potential outburst. Maybe because they expected this, or maybe because they did not have an adequate spell storing gem, they acknowledged the decision. Even if they were disappointed.
Elisar stood as Finnea sat back. "We have an alternative for you. We do not know if yall are aware of an elven stronghold, another mythal in this forest, Myth Unnohyr," he started. "However,"
The companions' demeanor changed to hopeful again, before their hearts sank at the last words.
"It is known to be a corrupted mythal. We are unaware of the effects of the area, much less what it may do if yall enter the area. But we believe the focal stone is intact."
"What does it mean to be corrupted?" the dwarf asked. He hadn't been around for the discussion about elven high magic, "for us specifically?" he added, but it wasn't heard as the elf had started explaining.
"Having decayed," explaining in the most basic terms how mythals over time changed or corroded, "The magical fields, if not maintained could become corrupted. Corrupted mythals are known to cause unpredictable effects in the area. more often dangerous effects. This was the case with our most famous mythal, Myth Drannor, before its rebuilding and recent destruction."
Tahlethar did a double take, "destruction?" he hadn't heard about this. And Lyra hadn't mentioned it when she suggested they check out its library.
"You haven't heard?" Elisar asked, sadness in his eyes as he spoke of the destruction just a few months ago.
"13th day of the 10th month, Thultanthar was flown over Myth Drannor, the Shadovar seeking to take control over its mythal. Thultanthar crashed down upon Myth Drannor, leveling both cities. the Srinshee mustered the baelnorn to create a great magical shield over The Tree of Souls, but that is all that stands of the city."
A tear escaped the cleric's eye, knowing he would never see those friends again, never walk the streets, hear her children's laugh. Never see her, his once beloved. More tears threatened to escape, he bit his lip to maintain a stoic demeanor. He needed to compartmentalize his grief.
Elisar understood that expression, wishing he hadn't been the one to deliver the devastating news in such a manner. He offered his condolences, which elicited confused 'huh?' from the others. They turned to Tahlethar, who raised a hand; he would discuss it later. The council elf offered to meet with the companions another day to help them plan their next leg of the journey. For now, the elf cleric needed some time to digest the bad news he'd just received. The council was dismissed, the companions returned to the Blushing Unicorn.
Eloth stood beside the mage, the words on the page gibberish to her. but Kemas' excitement was enough. Until the word 'lethal'.
"Do you know what Xinlenal is? Or Xolund? What was given sentience?" the half elf asked.
"I believe Xinlenal is one of the famed floating cities of the Netherese. So Xolund must be one of its mages," Kemas rereading over the inscription. He reasoned that the magic needed to raise the city to the air came at a cost, in particular, one's life force. But this must be the magic they needed to open up the way to the Nexus.
His blanket was tossed off, awakened from his companion's commotion, the warrior sat up to stir the fire. "We sent a message to Helmyn yet?" the warrior knowing they needed to check in with the warlock tortle.
"Until we leave this cavern system, no messages will come in or out," Kemas commented over his shoulder to Trynoc. "It was the protective measures of the arcanist."
"They are still intact after the volcano?"
The mage nodded. The journal was cautiously stuffed into his pack, wrapped in a watertight cloth to protect it from the swim back. He then went back over the other tomes they collected, dividing them between the three. "I suggest you be careful if you open any of these. Reading magic text untrained can be dangerous."
"The scrolls?" Eloth asked, expecting them to be divided evenly. He would not get all of the magical treasures they found. she and Kemas were suppose to split the good evenly.
"Can you cast such magic?"
Her hands on her hips. She might be a ranger by trade, she was trained in natural magics.
"It won't matter anyway," Trynoc interrupted, "Helmyn gets everything," a warning to the other two to not become overly ambitious or greedy. The warrior might not be the most intelligent of them, but he was the most loyal.
Kemas hand went up in resignation and acknowledgment. Eloth shook her head, but too likewise agreed with the warrior. They quietly ate their rations around the fire, each of them suspicious of the others, watching every move, preparing for the threat from every cough. The wizard stood up, dusting his robes off and headed back to the buried aisles of books.
It was another day of digging out more works, most of which were partially destroyed. Through the rubble, Eloth found a few still intact magic wards traps. When the way was cleared to the stairs, Kemas found the staircase buried in hardened stone. Even his magic could not clear the way down.
"What are you hoping is down there?" Trynoc asked as he stood beside the irritated mage.
"The Book of Tarchamus," he sighed, then explained before it could be asked. "It was said that the arcanist put his consciousness into the book. All that knowledge, all that power…buried beneath tons of stone."
"So, we need to bring a bunch of workers to dig through all that?" Trynoc thinking the mage wanted the Book for their master.
"The time it would take? We might find alternatives," Eloth commented. "If it is still down there. How do we know the book is still here?" she offered, not believing it.
That renewed the mage. Maybe, by a sliver of hope, the ranger was correct. If something took the time to bury the library, then they might have taken the book. He'd have to find a powerful diviner. And if it was buried below, then he'd have it narrowed down to better know where to start. He heard of a couple diviners, though sharing such delicate and precious information was not something he wanted.
As if Eloth was understanding Kemas' thoughts, "you think that elf in Calimshan?"
Kemas shook his head. He had someone else in mind the more he thought about it. Only problem was, if she had still been in Mulhorand, most of it had been destroyed in the Spellplague. He'd have to look her up when they got back to their base.
At the end of the third day in the cavern, they gathered the scant treasures found in the still intact magical chest- a few magical rings, more rare scrolls, even an unusual amulet. The fourth day, they decided to return to Helmyn with the goodies.
"No, you wouldn't have found the Book there," the tortle commented to Kemas. The others had departed, leaving the mage alone with her and Brom. "Last place it I heard to be was Blackstaff tower's vaults."
"Then why did you send us to the Black Library?"
"mythallar magic," Brom reminded him. "There was sure to be works dedicated to the Netherese magics."
"And the Book wouldn't contain that?"
"Perhaps. But you don't think we have tried getting into those vaults?"
"So, if you heard the Book was in Blackstaff tower, how did you not know about the destruction of the library?" the mage's frustration growing.
"It never came up," Helmyn interrupted with a glare that warned the mage he was on dangerous ground. "We were directed to the Black Library by that elf. She suggested that something about mythallars had to be there. So, we will continue to scour through the text yall brung back. If I need you to, I will send you back with more men. We will find what we need."
"Very well," Kemas bowed as he was dismissed. He didn't return to his quarters. He had an appointment with a wizard.
Tahlethar sat alone at a table nursing a mug of the strongest ale. He'd requested a few hours to himself. Then he would explain to his companions. He knew she had passed on to something better. And he would one day see her again in Arvandor. But the loss was too acute to think about it. Regret was rising up in him. What if he had been there? What if they had not broken their bond and gone their separate ways? It was a mutual and amicable split, both having decided on two different paths. But he couldn't help but wonder all the what ifs.
As stared into the pale amber liquid, he saw her skipping through the garden. The garden they were going to be bonded in. The inviting smile that stretched across her tanned face and lit up her warm brown eyes. She paused, grabbed his hand, and pulled him close, arms wrapping around his waist, her head nuzzling against his fast-beating chest. He brushed her golden hair from her face, resting his head on top of hers.
A cough from the barmaid drew him from his thoughts, "anything else I can get you?"
This had been a new waitress, not the one he remembered serving the tankard. How long had he been lost in thought? The other four had entered the tavern, staring at him, trying to read if they should approach. Long enough for his companions to return from whatever business they had been about.
Tahlethar nodded to Zyne, Zyne waving the girls to head over to his table.
Ariali sat beside the cleric, a hand went on his that were wrapped around his untouched tankard. He gave her a sad smile appreciating the comfort she attempted.
When everyone was seated, Jinx was asking the question aloud everyone was thinking, "who?"
They all could reason it had to do with the destruction of Myth Drannor the council had mentioned.
"Her name is, was Aravae. We were to be bonded this year. But it wasn't meant to be," a tear traced down his cheek. "Our spiritual paths diverged, and Corellon's plans for us called for our parting. Though we went our own paths, I never stopped loving her."
"Tell us about her," the lythari gently requested. It would be a way to celebrate her life.
"She lost her first love, shortly after she bore twins. Those children were dear to me, despite the hard time they had in accepting me. Afraid I was trying to replace their father." He gave a sad sigh, finally taking a sip of the hard spirit. "We had some conflicts over the boys. Now looking back, it seams so petty a squabble." Another tear streamed down. He took a moment, letting out a slow deep breath. "She was warm and inviting. She could be silly and frivolous at times, playful. Except when it came to her garden. Loved her garden, almost always found covered in dirt. It was the envy of everyone in Myth Drannor." He pictured standing beside her, his hand wiping a smudge of soil on her cheek. He leaned in for a kiss then one of the boys hollered for his mother to come find what he found.
"Can we perform any ceremonies for ye?" Zyne's voice seeping in through the elf's deep thoughts.
"I plan to plant a tree in her name at Sunset. I think I found a garden that would benefit from one." Tahlethar took another sip, then slid the mug to the dwarf. He couldn't down anymore of it. He would spend the rest of the day preparing a small ceremony for Aravae, finding the perfect sapling, gaining permission from the owner of the garden. He slid the chair back and headed upstairs, mentally beginning to compose the song of remembrance.
"Elves marry?" Jinx asked when the silence grew too much.
"Not in the way of, say… the humans," Ariali answered. "Elven bonding is similar enough though."
"Among my own people, bonding is traditionally about a male swearing subservience to a female. Otherwise, they join households together for practical reasons, not romantic." She hadn't had experience in the Eilistraeen house with any bonding ceremonies or rites, so she wasn't sure. They had to be different from the other drow.
"No romance among your people?" the tabaxi not really surprised considering the dark elf reputation.
Bluntly and matter of factly, "Females take whatever consorts they wish and choose a new one when they grow bored with the old. She decides who her lovers are and how long the relationship lasts."
"Sounds about right," the dwarf mumbled into the drink.
"Love," using to the elvish word, "is literally a death sentence where treachery, lies, and backstabbing is a way of life."
"So, no someone special in your life?" Ariali asked the dwarf, getting off the uncomfortable topic of drow 'love'.
"Once. Almost," wistfully. "It was youthful naivety. Blacksmith's daughter." He gave a fake lecherous wink, "We had a tumble here and there. Traveled together a bit. But she didn't want the adventuring life. Eventually fell for a another." A chuckle at an unspoken thought, he finished the mug of ale, wiped his mustache with the back of his hand, then looked over to Jinx. "What about ye, cat? ye started this conversation."
"If I had a loved one or about marriage?" she asked, a slight bit nervous and trying to think of how to answer.
"Either? Both!" the dwarf noting the discomfort the discussion was causing. He thought it was from embarrassment.
Jinx gave a long pause as she thought about how to answer. Her society was nomadic. Built around clans that were split evenly between males and females; each clan had several Hunts each made up of two to eight individuals. These were led by an elder and a shaman paired off. There was a heavy emphasis on community and friendship. Marriage or partnering could take away from one's experience of community. Coupling was mostly between the leading pair.
"Ye avoiding it," Zyne commented as Jinx explained about her people. "Ye got someone back home? Had someone?"
The tabaxi's teal eyes grew sad as she looked down into her lap. Zyne realized his mistake in her reluctance. He tried to backpaddle the conversation.
"No, it is…" letting out a deep breath, "I was born to our clan's shamaness. It was expected I take up my mother's leadership when I came of age, as did her mother before her. So, I would have been set to be coupled with the next leader. My best friend," taking another deep breath, "was expected to take up clan elder. But…" unable to finish.
"I am sorry for such loss," Ariali trying to comfort the cat. "I understand loss of one's clan."
"No sweetheart then?" the dwarf remembering the elf had been a slave when she found them.
The lythari shook her head in the negative. "I was taken as a youngling."
"Well," the young drowess noting the mood had grown somber, "how about something less…sad?" pulling forth a deck of cards.
"Did you always have those?" Jinx asked.
"Um," she hesitated, too much "yes," not planning on admitting she'd stolen them.
"What else ye gotten recently?" the sorcerer giving the drow a knowing look.
"Why does everyone assume…" Zarae started, faking her outrage at such an accusation.
"Really? Ye gunna ask that question?" his hands on hips.
"You want to play or not?"
"Fine. Deal," waving his hand over the table.
Kemas walked the corridor as quietly as a genasi mage could manage. His steps still echoed down the hall. He'd spent the time contacting who he needed to. And finally gotten word back from her. The diviner was currently in the Anauroch. At least his earthsoul heritage would be a benefit in the desert. But he was not looking forward to traveling there. So distracted, he missed the shadow that slipped into his chamber. He didn't even think about the fact his door was unlocked. The mage went straight to his wardrobe, pulling forth his pack he'd stuffed that morning with needed supplies.
"I thought you'd be apart of the translation or restoration committee," a sudden feminine voice came from behind. He turned to see the half elf ranger sitting, one leg across the other, arms behind and leaning back on them.
"I could have thrown a bolt at you!" he chided Eloth.
"Question still stands. Are you not participating in the mythallar research?"
He turned back to the wardrobe, shoving a cloak inside along with a cylinder case in his bag. Next was a pile of parchment, copies of the pages from the tome. "Why do you care?" giving her a little attitude. He was expecting the ranger to rat him out to their master. This was something for himself, not the Coming Chaos. Helmyn wouldn't understand.
She feigned being hurt by the accusation, exaggerating her hand over her chest. "You mean to find out about the Book, don't you?"
"Again, why do you care?"
"Because I would like to not get tied into whatever trouble will come when you vanish." Looking out for herself.
"I shouldn't be gone too long. A day or two at most."
"You plan to get to Gheldaneth," she figured out who he was seeking, "in that short amount of time?" the half elf laughed.
"Ularith, Anauroch," he corrected. "I have access to a portal that will drop me off in Dagger Falls. Then I can portal to the settlement."
"You think the Bedine will allow you just portal in?"
"It is not a Bedine settlement. It is a hidden temple complex with a massive portal network."
"Hidden?"
His hands went to his hips, turned to face the ranger, clearly annoyed with the questions. Did she not trust he already thought through this. The lich-lord guardian had been taken care of, according to his contact. The undead cult was no more.
Dagger Falls was a stone-walled town in the Dalelands situated near a steep waterfall that gave the city its name. The town had boasted of about 2000 hardy people. Two gatehouses guarded each of the entrances to the town. The buildings were of stone, well-crafted and reflecting its dwarven history. The portal Kemas taken had dropped him in the once dangerous Constable's Tower's top floor. Constable's Tower was an imposing fortified keep with a tall, round tower that stood an imposing 100 feet tall. On the east and west side of the tower were two wings, each covered with slate shingle and metal plates. The tower had once been famous for the persistent magical effect: blasts of randomly determined elemental energy in which the resulting damage was subsequently repaired by another recurring magical effect in a never-ending cycle. A few years back, a group of archmages put an end to the wild magic surges. It had started during a magical battle where the mage was killed. A group of adventurers who called themselves The Strays, discovered the source and was able to put to rest the mage. Since then, the tower had been inhabited by the adventuring group until members of The Coming Chaos uprooted and claimed it for themselves. They, however, were able to maintain the cover of the Strays still being in charge of the tower. Using their name to maintain cover.
Kemas stepped through the shimmering wall. The center of the room was a stone arch carved with various runes in differing dialects. The glow of the portal highlighted the stone in eerie blues. The mage was greeted by a fully covered robed man; no part of his skin showed and the way the cloth was bundled around his form made it near impossible to discern his race.
"Aneksi Kiya contacted me," his word stressing the 's' sounds. "You know I do not like working with those who refuse to join."
Kemas waved off the man's concern. "I will compensate your time," he assured the male. Tho whether he would fulfill it was left in the air. And the robed male knew it. The genasi strode past the male to the heavily secured door. "She say anything else?" undoing the locks.
"Her gate will open at sunset."
There were no windows on this floor, but Kemas knew it was just about noon when he departed his chambers. He had some time to kill until sunset. The door opened, two armored guards on the other side turned to face the one exiting the room. The robed male held a hand up to indicate that they should allow the mage to pass. Kemas pulled the pendant out of his own robe, a symbol of the Coming Chaos, and showed he was one of them.
The door creaked open. A scrying bowl, situated in the center of the room, held an image of the large open desert. In the distance was spotted a few palm trees and beast of burden, one the mage didn't recognize, tied to a hitching post. On the other side of the mounted bowl stood a large built red dragonborn female. She'd been the go-between to Kiya and Kemas.
"How long has it been?" the dragonborn asked when she looked up to the genasi entering her chamber.
"Too long, Kaccel?"
"Why do you only speak to me when you want something?" though her tone was uncertain for the mage. She'd always been hard to read when serious or joking. And she reveled in it.
"You know Mistress Helmyn," using the warlock as an excuse. "Always got us busy with something."
Kaccel shrugged, motioning for him to follow to the dinning quarters. "What is the latest?"
Sunset was happening on the desert, shown in the water of the bowl. The time set by the contact. Kemas and Kaccel were the first into the crypt since the Strays had taken the tower back, evidenced by undisturbed thick dust. In the center of the chamber was a stone sarcophagus atop a raised platform. Opposite the only door were engraved runes in the shape of an arch. Keccel leaned next to the sarcophagus, and whispered something the genasi couldn't hear. One by one the runes on the wall lit up with a reddish glow. The space inside the runes crackled with energy and a dark portal appeared. The smell of scorched earth and dust mingled with the sudden burst of wind and sand into the room. The dragonborn gave the genasi a thumbs up. The mage waved as he stepped through.
He was hit with dust and sand so thick the sky was brown. Looking back behind him was a rune covered arch that was identical to the one he had passed through. Crumbling old stone walls surrounded him with heaps of broken stone that were once columns. If he had to guess, the structure had been nearly 50 feet tall at its highest.
Finding his bearings, he headed north of the portal gate, as he'd been instructed. He crossed an open boulevard twords a ruined colonnade. Numerous structures in various levels of ruins had been erected around a main temple palace. The courtyard was decorated with rows of crumbling pillars, a dune filled pool, and shattered doorways. The setting of the sun cast the complex in a soft orange glow.
His path led to the door of the temple, or where it should have been. It was a pile of rubble. Nearby, a small structure, mostly intact, came into view. Kemas headed up the stairs and forced his way through the secured door. Inside was a small chamber, the only light from the doorway. The former preparation room hadn't been entered into in years. The undisturbed sands and dust now stirred up by the open door and harsh winds. The wizard turned, seeing the room was a dead end, and headed twords the pile of stones of the main temple. Within the large foundation a wind worn altar and stone throne behind it. Even if someone had been through here, the wind would have removed any proof. Crossing the foundation to the other side, he spotted another intact building across the courtyard. Kemas was sure there was a magical field around it, feeling the buildup of power as he neared it. He stopped in front of it, knowing not to attempt to walk through. Kemas growled in frustration. Then screaming out into the wind for Kiya to come out. The temperature was rapidly dropping with the diminishing light. About to do something drastic, he felt the magic lessen, as if the ward was weakened for passage.
Inside the magical ward, and through the door, it was not anything like outside. The large chamber was encircled by rows of pillars carved with motifs dedicated to deities Kemas did not know. Candles kept the temple basking in a soft glow that reflected off gold urns. The rest of the chamber was decorated with images, banners, urns, and walls carved in bas relief. Seven statues encircled a sarcophagus in the middle. The statues depicted bare-chested warrior humans dressed in shendyt and sandals with sophisticated jackal looking headdresses. At least he thought they were headdresses; they could have been actual jackal headed humanoids. A beaded curtain in the back was a door to corridor that descended below.
From the shadow stepped a tall and lean graceful figure; her head bore a long snout of sharp teeth, angular ears rising straight above her head, and covered in dark, sleek hair of sandy brown. The jackal woman was dressed in a linen skirt, metallic scaled covering as a top, gold sandals, and a snake shaped headband. On her hip was a khopesh. When Kemas had entered the warded region, she went back into casting, restoring the magical shield.
"Took you long enough," the mage commented almost offhandedly, but loud enough for the jackal woman to hear.
"Good to see you too," she retorted equally sarcastically in broken common, turning to face the mage, arms crossed against her chest. Her foot started tapping, then she waved him to follow down the stairs, both crouching from the low ceiling of the hall.
"The Netherese must have been short on average," Kemas commented as he followed.
The passage opened in a broad chamber. Dozens of stone archways circled the large central arch. Each were etched with the same script runes as the portal he had traveled through, Netherese glyphs. Kiya informed him that they were activated with a specific portal key and verbal password, in case he was a mind to do anything unsavory.
"Have you been able to confirm the location in the Blackstaff vaults?"
"No."
"No? you didn't try or didn't find?"
"Not in Blackstaff."
"Mistress Helmyn is wrong?" thinking about this surprising revelation. "Then where?"
A finger wage, "You work for me. I tell."
Eyes narrowed, but it wasn't unexpected. He gave a resigned sigh, motioning his hand for her to continue speaking the request she was asking.
One of her peers and a former master, A'lai, had stolen an important tome that had been recently recovered from Candlekeep. Speaking in half-truths, she described the stolen pages as treatise and historical records on dark rituals of her homeland and that it was important to her culture, refusing to give details on the specifics when prompted by Kemas. "A'lai mentioned wanting to continue her research from a 'friend' before we departed paths," explained, "I am convinced my former mistress will be traveling to a similar temple complex as this in the desert. They no doubt will be attempting to accomplish these rituals themselves."
"And that is bad because?"
"I cannot say much more. It is why we were able to rid the former inhabitants of this complex."
"So, powerful item." He cocked his head studying the khenra cleric, "You stole it from Candlekeep?"
A shake of her head, "A'lai did the hard part."
"So, you want me to help you get back this tome?" checking for confirmation, "and this former mistress?"
"If we rid her, all the better."
"I see." Maybe this A'lai might could help him access the Book if Kiya did not know the location. No doubt it would come at some cost or favor. Everything did. It would most likely be worth it for the Book. "Very well. Where are we going? Or how are we getting there?"