Resting high above the castle main, the ancient Library of Dragonskeep lies in the Keep’s northern most tower. The ancient secrets of the Keep lay hidden in this isolated room overlooking the mystic Lake Draz-Olgraith. Rose light shone through the stained glass portals, bathing the room in eerie warmth. A large, imposing desk sat in the library’s center like a supplicant to the numerous tomes lining the walls. It begged to help seek the knowledge contained within.
The library housed books on a variety of subjects but two primary categories dominated; Dragons and magic. While not as vast as the collection of books in the Citadel’s University of Magic, the annals contained the most comprehensive information on the mythical beasts inhabiting Tazlure. Maintained by the Count’s scholars for centuries, this wealth of material has drawn researchers from across the globe. Both the realm’s defenders and enemies have sought the knowledge stored in this lonely tower to determine their fortune.
Most recently, the library had been in the service of Achlos, a visiting mage from the Citadel. Some of his papers still littered the desk and stacks of his books stood ready in the corners. His lamp, quill and inkwell waited for his return on the corner of the desk.
*** Late Tradetide - Samheen 19 ***
It was not the lore on Dragons and perhaps not the wealth of information on Magick that the ugly little man sought this day, but he was looking for even more about the history and founding of the Keep. His visions with the nomad had left a burning desire to unravel the mystery of the expansion of the walls. He had brought the two history books that he had been reading in his room back to the library with him, but he had finished them, and was no closer to the answers he sought.
At first he simply marvelled in the place. The view, the musty parchment smell. He skimmed over the desk that awaited another scholar's return, careful not to disturb the way it had been left. He stared out at the lake and thought of it's murky depths, and what was hidden even further beneath. He needed to convince the Lady of the Keep to allow passage to the tribesmen's holy sites, but needed not only more information about why they were barred from doing so, but also about the history of the expansion of the Keep's walls and the part that event might have played in doing so.
He studied the book's titles, intent on finding whatever information he could find about the history and details of their construction. He then went further to the oldest histories and books of the library itself, determined to unearth any information he could find. Knowledge was power, and power was needed to destroy whatever dark thing that may yet live in the inky bowels of the Keep.
He lit the scholar's lamp and his pipe quickly after. The smoke trails from both drifting lazily towards the dark ceiling. It was going to be a long night...
Behind the Walls - Late TT - Samheen 19
Moderator: Mods
Behind the Walls - Late TT - Samheen 19
Last edited by Motley on Fri Apr 15, 2005 10:49 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Guest
Fortunately for Motley, a ladder had been placed in the room, for his search took him up and down the shelves throughout the room. He saw books on agriculture, theology and even philosophy. By the end of his search his pipe was nearly out and his neck ached terribly. But he did find one book that seemed promising. It was a history of the Knights themselves rather than the Keep. It spoke of previous quests, crusades and the annual dragon hunt. Motley nearly discarded it until he caught the title of one of the chapters. The Death of Andrea.
A bell went off in the inquisitive performer’s mind. His earlier readings had been on the Keep, but the history seemed too recent. The other book had been entirely genealogy, tracing the Count’s family through generations of Drakedoders and their marriages, but little was said about people’s actual lives. One name Motley had noticed, though, was a Princess Andrea. She had been young when she died, only 15, and his curiosity had been piqued. Finding no further mention of the girl, he had moved on but there was a lingering question due to her young age. Did she die in child birth or disease? He had not found out. However, here was the name again.
The chapter was short, a mere two pages. With the library’s towering shelves scrutinizing him, Motley began to read. The text told of a young maiden who disappeared at age 15. She had been the first Count’s youngest child who had a habit of wandering into dangerous places. According to the passage she had disappeared while exploring the ancient, underground burial sites of the People of the Sand. The Keep had been founded only recently and the relationship between the Count and the nomads was tentative at best during this time period. There were rumors that she had been with a young nomad boy.
The POTS had been reluctant to let the newcomers ravage their sacred land. The Count agreed that he would hold the lands in the same standing as the POTS if they would let him search for his daughter. They agreed and the Knights and the nomads roused an immediate search.
Here the description became vague. The search parties began to disappear, both POTS and Knights. The superstitious feared that they had called down the curse of Draz-Olgraith, the ancient dragon of the lake. The Count, though, was not convinced and so sent even larger parties beneath to investigate.
And there, the passage ended.
Motley turned the page to continue reading and suddenly discovered why the chapter had seemed so short. The final pages were missing. They had been ripped from the book.
A chill passed through his deformed frame. It was the same chill that he’d felt as the thing had passed through him in the vision, but this time, there were words accompanying the feeling. It had been two days ago, but Father Amaris’ song floated back with a haunting relevancy.
The day is past and gone,
The evening shades appear;
O may we all remember well
The night of death is near.
As the last line echoed in his mind he heard the footsteps approaching.
A bell went off in the inquisitive performer’s mind. His earlier readings had been on the Keep, but the history seemed too recent. The other book had been entirely genealogy, tracing the Count’s family through generations of Drakedoders and their marriages, but little was said about people’s actual lives. One name Motley had noticed, though, was a Princess Andrea. She had been young when she died, only 15, and his curiosity had been piqued. Finding no further mention of the girl, he had moved on but there was a lingering question due to her young age. Did she die in child birth or disease? He had not found out. However, here was the name again.
The chapter was short, a mere two pages. With the library’s towering shelves scrutinizing him, Motley began to read. The text told of a young maiden who disappeared at age 15. She had been the first Count’s youngest child who had a habit of wandering into dangerous places. According to the passage she had disappeared while exploring the ancient, underground burial sites of the People of the Sand. The Keep had been founded only recently and the relationship between the Count and the nomads was tentative at best during this time period. There were rumors that she had been with a young nomad boy.
The POTS had been reluctant to let the newcomers ravage their sacred land. The Count agreed that he would hold the lands in the same standing as the POTS if they would let him search for his daughter. They agreed and the Knights and the nomads roused an immediate search.
Here the description became vague. The search parties began to disappear, both POTS and Knights. The superstitious feared that they had called down the curse of Draz-Olgraith, the ancient dragon of the lake. The Count, though, was not convinced and so sent even larger parties beneath to investigate.
And there, the passage ended.
Motley turned the page to continue reading and suddenly discovered why the chapter had seemed so short. The final pages were missing. They had been ripped from the book.
A chill passed through his deformed frame. It was the same chill that he’d felt as the thing had passed through him in the vision, but this time, there were words accompanying the feeling. It had been two days ago, but Father Amaris’ song floated back with a haunting relevancy.
The day is past and gone,
The evening shades appear;
O may we all remember well
The night of death is near.
As the last line echoed in his mind he heard the footsteps approaching.
It was fascinating reading to be sure and it only fueled the little man's appetite for more and more information. He was very confident that the story of Andrea was one and the same with his vision.
Two fathers grieving. One seemed likely the parent of Andrea, without hope for her return or after she had been found dead. Perhaps the nomad was the father of the young man who Andrea was rumored to be with...
Wait... What happened to the boy? Was he found dead as well? There is no mention of his fate here. Is this a Father grieving for a son's dead wife? Or for a lost child of his own?
Motley was certain of one thing. Asa'Kriel's grievance was legitimate. According to this text, the People of the Sand were once in the same standing as the People of the Keep, and this text proved it. The current Count must have altered this agreement recently and changed the nature of the relationship between both cultures. The ripped out pages did little for Motley's confidence as to what happened next. He supposed that many died in trying to recover Andrea, and even worse, possibly trying to kill the thing in the darkness.
He shuddered, feeling a sudden chill as the memory engulfed him again. He remembered the priest's song and the chill was amplified until he could feel his hands starting to shake and his jaw starting to quiver.
Footsteps? Someone coming?
He clutched the book he had been reading tightly to his chest. It would not do for him to be seen standing her shaking like some crazed fool, so he went to a chair and sat, awaiting whatever new arrival that was approaching and fighting hard to keep his teeth from chattering.
Two fathers grieving. One seemed likely the parent of Andrea, without hope for her return or after she had been found dead. Perhaps the nomad was the father of the young man who Andrea was rumored to be with...
Wait... What happened to the boy? Was he found dead as well? There is no mention of his fate here. Is this a Father grieving for a son's dead wife? Or for a lost child of his own?
Motley was certain of one thing. Asa'Kriel's grievance was legitimate. According to this text, the People of the Sand were once in the same standing as the People of the Keep, and this text proved it. The current Count must have altered this agreement recently and changed the nature of the relationship between both cultures. The ripped out pages did little for Motley's confidence as to what happened next. He supposed that many died in trying to recover Andrea, and even worse, possibly trying to kill the thing in the darkness.
He shuddered, feeling a sudden chill as the memory engulfed him again. He remembered the priest's song and the chill was amplified until he could feel his hands starting to shake and his jaw starting to quiver.
Footsteps? Someone coming?
He clutched the book he had been reading tightly to his chest. It would not do for him to be seen standing her shaking like some crazed fool, so he went to a chair and sat, awaiting whatever new arrival that was approaching and fighting hard to keep his teeth from chattering.
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Guest
The door creaked open ominously adding just one more creepy aspect to Motley’s dark night in the library. One could almost imagine a dark, smoky mist rising from the aperture, coiling amongst the shelves and table, choking the essence of everything it touched. Ten thousand pins could have dropped in the century it seemed to take for anything of substance to appear in the gap. When a slender hand crept around the edge to force the door the remaining few inches, Motley could feel his heart skip several beats.
The face that peaked through the gap was out of place on this eerie evening. The Countess’ daughter Phelissia, poked her noble chin into the room and her eyes met Motley’s mismatched gaze. She stepped into the room with a muted flourish. She smiled warmly . . .or at least as warmly as Motley had ever seen her smile.
“Motley, you are here. The servants said they’d seen you come up this way. What in the name of the desert are you doing up here?†she asked.
The face that peaked through the gap was out of place on this eerie evening. The Countess’ daughter Phelissia, poked her noble chin into the room and her eyes met Motley’s mismatched gaze. She stepped into the room with a muted flourish. She smiled warmly . . .or at least as warmly as Motley had ever seen her smile.
“Motley, you are here. The servants said they’d seen you come up this way. What in the name of the desert are you doing up here?†she asked.
It was a sense of horror that washed over Motley as the door opened, but the face that greeted him wasn't the one of terror or malice as he'd imagined in those few brief flickers. He was surprised to find himself staring into the face of Phelissia and the fear left him in a rush as he exhaled sharply. He wasn't sure how long he'd forgotten to breathe, but it took him a moment to compose himself. Fear went out as he exhaled, and relief flooded in as he inhaled.
He smiled warmly at her as an idea formed in his head. Out of all the people in the Keep, this girl seemed to be forgotten and overlooked continuously. She was the perfect ally in his newly formed quest to unite the People of the Keep and the People of the Sand once more. She was close with her mother, loyal to her father, and heir to the Seat of power in this place, yet most looked upon her as merely a girl that had not come into her own yet. The Count was strong in the West, as was his wife, yet their child seemed to blend too often into the background. This simply made her the perfect choice. She was going to be crucial to his hopes of alliance, and an insider voice to her mother's policy in the Count's absence.
Now if he could only convince her of his plan, she could help him convince her mother as well.
"Lady Phelissia! You have no idea how much you startled me! Yes, it is only me up here. I came up here to return those books that Alain was kind enough to get for me and since I was here, I thought I might catch up on some other topics as well. I was reading about the history of the Keep and you actually remind me of someone that I was just reading about. If you have a moment, I'd like to share it with you."
He scratched the side of his bulbous nose as he gave himself a moment to ponder how best to proceed. The trick was to get her involved, and if he could manage it, to get her to feel as if the idea was all hers. he had no illusions of gaining any power for himself, but instead sought to help Phelissia gain in stature with her parents and thus ensure a future for himself in this place.
"As you likely know, I have spent the better part of the last two days with Asa'Kriel, the tribesman to find out why he speaks such doom and gloom against the people of this place, specifically, your father. In my time with him, I have discovered a grave injustice that needs to be undone. The source of his grievance is the breaking of a long standing agreement between the People of the Sand and your ancestors. Here, read this..."
He got up from the chair and laid the book open so that she may read about the story of Princess Andrea and the agreement. He stood back, waiting expectantly for her to finish, and for the implications to sink in. Hopefully she would see herself in the story and see that this agreement had been broken. Then hopefully she would want to do something about it.
He smiled warmly at her as an idea formed in his head. Out of all the people in the Keep, this girl seemed to be forgotten and overlooked continuously. She was the perfect ally in his newly formed quest to unite the People of the Keep and the People of the Sand once more. She was close with her mother, loyal to her father, and heir to the Seat of power in this place, yet most looked upon her as merely a girl that had not come into her own yet. The Count was strong in the West, as was his wife, yet their child seemed to blend too often into the background. This simply made her the perfect choice. She was going to be crucial to his hopes of alliance, and an insider voice to her mother's policy in the Count's absence.
Now if he could only convince her of his plan, she could help him convince her mother as well.
"Lady Phelissia! You have no idea how much you startled me! Yes, it is only me up here. I came up here to return those books that Alain was kind enough to get for me and since I was here, I thought I might catch up on some other topics as well. I was reading about the history of the Keep and you actually remind me of someone that I was just reading about. If you have a moment, I'd like to share it with you."
He scratched the side of his bulbous nose as he gave himself a moment to ponder how best to proceed. The trick was to get her involved, and if he could manage it, to get her to feel as if the idea was all hers. he had no illusions of gaining any power for himself, but instead sought to help Phelissia gain in stature with her parents and thus ensure a future for himself in this place.
"As you likely know, I have spent the better part of the last two days with Asa'Kriel, the tribesman to find out why he speaks such doom and gloom against the people of this place, specifically, your father. In my time with him, I have discovered a grave injustice that needs to be undone. The source of his grievance is the breaking of a long standing agreement between the People of the Sand and your ancestors. Here, read this..."
He got up from the chair and laid the book open so that she may read about the story of Princess Andrea and the agreement. He stood back, waiting expectantly for her to finish, and for the implications to sink in. Hopefully she would see herself in the story and see that this agreement had been broken. Then hopefully she would want to do something about it.
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Guest
Lady Phelissia entered the library in a handsome fashion. The lamp highlighted her strong features in the darkness, making her seem the very image of her brash father. Phelissia’s earlier confessions of doubt reminded Motley that the similarities were mostly skin deep.
“I wondered what you were up to,†she said absently. “So few people use the library these days. Only my mother and Achlos seem to remember where it is. What is it you have to show me?â€
She bent over the book Motley and read the passage Motley had marked. He watched her grow more and more focused on the material until her head fell into her hands. As she reached the torn pages, she gasped.
“I have heard this story before, told at my father’s table. There have always been rumors of evils beneath the lake. The peasants refer to it as the Curse of Draz-Olgraith,†she smiled slightly at the superstition.
“But why have these pages been torn out? I don’t understand. Did you tear them? These are quite valuable, if not sentimental. And what does this have to do with Asa’Kriel? He’s a little young to be the missing boy, don’t you think?â€
OOC: Motley – your thread on the 20th starts here. Please feel free to continue this conversation with Phelissia before heading to your room for the night.
“I wondered what you were up to,†she said absently. “So few people use the library these days. Only my mother and Achlos seem to remember where it is. What is it you have to show me?â€
She bent over the book Motley and read the passage Motley had marked. He watched her grow more and more focused on the material until her head fell into her hands. As she reached the torn pages, she gasped.
“I have heard this story before, told at my father’s table. There have always been rumors of evils beneath the lake. The peasants refer to it as the Curse of Draz-Olgraith,†she smiled slightly at the superstition.
“But why have these pages been torn out? I don’t understand. Did you tear them? These are quite valuable, if not sentimental. And what does this have to do with Asa’Kriel? He’s a little young to be the missing boy, don’t you think?â€
OOC: Motley – your thread on the 20th starts here. Please feel free to continue this conversation with Phelissia before heading to your room for the night.
Motley smiled at her mention of the library's use. That was a pleasant fact for him to remember in the future. He would spend more time up here now, learning all he could of the Keep, it's legends, it's history and it's inhabitants in relative privacy. This place would be a new home for him as he enjoyed the view and the room's contents a great deal.
Knowledge was power and Motley sought to be very powerful in that way if nothing else. Such knowledge would be very beneficial in many ways. Songs to write, legends to sing. His art could grow to new heights by giving the people entertainment about their history, and it wouldn't hurt to know a few things to remain valuable as well.
Motley answered her question about the torn pages with a saddened shake of his head along with his words.
"No my Lady. I have a reverence for books and history and would never do anything to destroy or alter such works. This book and it's pages are in the same condition I found them in. The torn pages are of great concern to me as well."
"There is a great deal of information in the story of Princess Andrea. Asa' Kriel has given me information about this curse and and a part of that story that is the source of much suffering for him and his people. The part that I am specifically referring to was the agreement between the People of the Keep, and the People of the Sand to find her. That part states that the People of the Sand were to be given fair and equitable treatment and access to the tunnels under the Lake. Do you know if your father or his ancestors have rescinded or altered this agreement in some way?"
Phelissia referenced Asa'Kriel and his age in relation to the story, giving the little man a whole new subject to think upon. It simply had not occurred to him that Asa'Kriel could be the father or the son in the story, but it was near Phelissia's first thoughts on the matter. He searched his memory of the grieving man's faces in his vision to see if their was a resemblance.
"I do not know what Asa'Kriel's relationship to the story of Andrea is other than it it one of the many visions he undergoes. He shared his vision of that story with me in my stay with him. I agree, if he were the boy, he would be much older than he appears, which begs the question of what other powers he might have that no one knows about."
It was obvious to him at that point that he needed to probe her a little less subtly to try and get to act upon this information.
"I may be able to speak with him about this when I see him next, but until then, I think it's important to address this grievance he has. If this dispute can be solved, perhaps the tribesmen would come to the aid of the Keep as they did long ago."
Knowledge was power and Motley sought to be very powerful in that way if nothing else. Such knowledge would be very beneficial in many ways. Songs to write, legends to sing. His art could grow to new heights by giving the people entertainment about their history, and it wouldn't hurt to know a few things to remain valuable as well.
Motley answered her question about the torn pages with a saddened shake of his head along with his words.
"No my Lady. I have a reverence for books and history and would never do anything to destroy or alter such works. This book and it's pages are in the same condition I found them in. The torn pages are of great concern to me as well."
"There is a great deal of information in the story of Princess Andrea. Asa' Kriel has given me information about this curse and and a part of that story that is the source of much suffering for him and his people. The part that I am specifically referring to was the agreement between the People of the Keep, and the People of the Sand to find her. That part states that the People of the Sand were to be given fair and equitable treatment and access to the tunnels under the Lake. Do you know if your father or his ancestors have rescinded or altered this agreement in some way?"
Phelissia referenced Asa'Kriel and his age in relation to the story, giving the little man a whole new subject to think upon. It simply had not occurred to him that Asa'Kriel could be the father or the son in the story, but it was near Phelissia's first thoughts on the matter. He searched his memory of the grieving man's faces in his vision to see if their was a resemblance.
"I do not know what Asa'Kriel's relationship to the story of Andrea is other than it it one of the many visions he undergoes. He shared his vision of that story with me in my stay with him. I agree, if he were the boy, he would be much older than he appears, which begs the question of what other powers he might have that no one knows about."
It was obvious to him at that point that he needed to probe her a little less subtly to try and get to act upon this information.
"I may be able to speak with him about this when I see him next, but until then, I think it's important to address this grievance he has. If this dispute can be solved, perhaps the tribesmen would come to the aid of the Keep as they did long ago."
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Guest
Phelissia thought hard on Motley’s questions. She furrowed her brow and said.
“To be honest, I’ve thought only rarely on the People of the Sands. My thoughts, I fear, have been so focused on the Orcs and my father’s campaign.†She sighed.
“Are you so sure there is a grievance between us and them? As far as I know, the relationship between the Keep and the nomads is cool but not hostile. We are not friends but are not allies either.â€
Phelissia walked slowly into the room and leaned against the desk.
“Do you think the curse is real?†She laughed half heartedly. “It is such an old legend. Older than the story of Andrea to be sure.â€
“I guess it is possible,†she continued. “As far as I know, no one, in my lifetime, that is, has ever been beneath the lake or explored the catacombs. So I doubt it was done by my father.â€
“Would you be willing to tell me your vision? Asa’Kriel arrived just before the Orcs came back, portending a doom. No one’s ever believed him. . .I think, until you.â€
“To be honest, I’ve thought only rarely on the People of the Sands. My thoughts, I fear, have been so focused on the Orcs and my father’s campaign.†She sighed.
“Are you so sure there is a grievance between us and them? As far as I know, the relationship between the Keep and the nomads is cool but not hostile. We are not friends but are not allies either.â€
Phelissia walked slowly into the room and leaned against the desk.
“Do you think the curse is real?†She laughed half heartedly. “It is such an old legend. Older than the story of Andrea to be sure.â€
“I guess it is possible,†she continued. “As far as I know, no one, in my lifetime, that is, has ever been beneath the lake or explored the catacombs. So I doubt it was done by my father.â€
“Would you be willing to tell me your vision? Asa’Kriel arrived just before the Orcs came back, portending a doom. No one’s ever believed him. . .I think, until you.â€
Although she was headed in the right direction, Motley could now plainly see that she would not be steered subtly into a course of action. It wasn't that the girl wasn't smart and capable, it was really more of a case where she simply didn't view herself as a leader yet. She seemed to take orders and listen well, but she still lacked that instinct that made people act, instead of follow. Perhaps it would grow in her in time, but now was not the place or time coddle her and ease her into it. Now was the time for such action in saving this place.
"Asa"Kriel spoke of your father's policies as the source of his discord. perhaps he was speaking more metaphorically, as in forefathers, but it seemed fairly specific to me at the time he said it. Maybe is more to this in those torn pages that we are as yet unaware of."
He cleared his throat. Now was that time for action and it gave him a flicker or two to summon his courage. If he could convince the daughter, he would stand a much better chance of convincing the Mother.
"My Lady, The catacombs are sacred and holy to the People of the Sand. Asa'Kriel and his forefathers go to them as a final resting place. The catacombs are the equivalent to your burial mounds to the People of the Sands. When the walls of this place were expanded many years ago, the tribesmen were separated from their holy lands and not allowed access any further. This is greatly troubling to them."
"I spoke with Captain Dunevain earlier this day and by his report, the orcs have found entrance into those tunnels. Now by your own admission, the relationship with the tribesmen is cool at best. I do not believe they would fight for you if it came down to it. But, if they can be given free reign of these catacombs once again, I believe they will fight the orcs. The foul beasts are corrupting and desecrating their holy graves and they will not let that stand."
The little man gestured towards the book.
"Those pages and the story of Andrea speak of equality for the People of the Sand in those days. That equality was shattered when the walls were expanded and they were cut off from their holy places. They may not fight for the Keep and it's people, but they may fight to clear what once was theirs from the taint of those nasty creatures."
Motley spoke of his vision truly and honestly. He understood the importance of being forthright at this time. Many, many lives were at stake and he wanted nothing to interfere with her understanding of the situation.
"What he shared with me was a vision of the past. There were two older men, grieving on the opposite sides of the same wall. One was a man of the Keep, dressed in green. The other, was a man of the Sand, dressed in robes. They were obviously in a great deal of pain. Then the scene shifted and I was in the dark corridors under the lake. There was a battle going on, and something great and powerful, full of darkness passed through...me. And then it began to kill. Terrible screams full of terror and agony followed in it's wake. When it passed through me, I added my own voice to the screams..."
He let the last part hang and linger like the doom he felt.
"I'm afraid it was all too real."
"Asa"Kriel spoke of your father's policies as the source of his discord. perhaps he was speaking more metaphorically, as in forefathers, but it seemed fairly specific to me at the time he said it. Maybe is more to this in those torn pages that we are as yet unaware of."
He cleared his throat. Now was that time for action and it gave him a flicker or two to summon his courage. If he could convince the daughter, he would stand a much better chance of convincing the Mother.
"My Lady, The catacombs are sacred and holy to the People of the Sand. Asa'Kriel and his forefathers go to them as a final resting place. The catacombs are the equivalent to your burial mounds to the People of the Sands. When the walls of this place were expanded many years ago, the tribesmen were separated from their holy lands and not allowed access any further. This is greatly troubling to them."
"I spoke with Captain Dunevain earlier this day and by his report, the orcs have found entrance into those tunnels. Now by your own admission, the relationship with the tribesmen is cool at best. I do not believe they would fight for you if it came down to it. But, if they can be given free reign of these catacombs once again, I believe they will fight the orcs. The foul beasts are corrupting and desecrating their holy graves and they will not let that stand."
The little man gestured towards the book.
"Those pages and the story of Andrea speak of equality for the People of the Sand in those days. That equality was shattered when the walls were expanded and they were cut off from their holy places. They may not fight for the Keep and it's people, but they may fight to clear what once was theirs from the taint of those nasty creatures."
Motley spoke of his vision truly and honestly. He understood the importance of being forthright at this time. Many, many lives were at stake and he wanted nothing to interfere with her understanding of the situation.
"What he shared with me was a vision of the past. There were two older men, grieving on the opposite sides of the same wall. One was a man of the Keep, dressed in green. The other, was a man of the Sand, dressed in robes. They were obviously in a great deal of pain. Then the scene shifted and I was in the dark corridors under the lake. There was a battle going on, and something great and powerful, full of darkness passed through...me. And then it began to kill. Terrible screams full of terror and agony followed in it's wake. When it passed through me, I added my own voice to the screams..."
He let the last part hang and linger like the doom he felt.
"I'm afraid it was all too real."
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Guest
She sat stunned at Motley’s explanation of the events.
“Motley, if what you say is true, we must tell my mother at once. I know of nothing that’s preventing anyone from going to the Catacombs other than the fact . . .well, the opinion, that they are legendary. That was hundreds of Yahren ago!†she exclaimed.
Phelissia stopped cold when he described his vision.
“I hope,†she jested cynically, “you’ve had too much of the weed, Motley. But, it isn’t that is it?â€
She took deep breaths and analyzed his words again.
“Your vision seems to have taken place over different time periods, don’t you think? The blurring seems to jump you from time to time. When do you think this battle occurs? In the past, or in the future?â€
“Motley, if what you say is true, we must tell my mother at once. I know of nothing that’s preventing anyone from going to the Catacombs other than the fact . . .well, the opinion, that they are legendary. That was hundreds of Yahren ago!†she exclaimed.
Phelissia stopped cold when he described his vision.
“I hope,†she jested cynically, “you’ve had too much of the weed, Motley. But, it isn’t that is it?â€
She took deep breaths and analyzed his words again.
“Your vision seems to have taken place over different time periods, don’t you think? The blurring seems to jump you from time to time. When do you think this battle occurs? In the past, or in the future?â€
"I was hoping that you would help me tell your mother of these events. She needs to be notified at once, and Captain Dunevain as well. Their knowledge of this is critical."
He nodded at her statement of the legends.
"Indeed. Sometimes history changes over such a long period of time that true events seem like a tale told around a hearth. Much of history is like this. Some things happened so long ago that it seems like legend, when in fact, we are remembering the truth."
"I have not had too much of the weed. I wish it were that simple."
He smiled his crooked yellowed smile at her.
"I'm afraid I am all too serious about this."
He took her cue at taking a few deep breaths and trying to calm down and think rationally. He followed suit. When she asked about the battle, he honestly did not know.
"My lady, if I could tell you which for certain, I would, but I cannot because I do not know. I am sure that Men forget, and they are doomed to repeat their mistakes of the past if they do not learn from them. Perhaps what I saw was a bit of both. I pray that it was all in the past, and that because I saw it, I can help us from the doom of repeating it, but I honestly do not know."
He took a deep breath and swallowed nervously.
"Will you help me talk to your mother?"
He nodded at her statement of the legends.
"Indeed. Sometimes history changes over such a long period of time that true events seem like a tale told around a hearth. Much of history is like this. Some things happened so long ago that it seems like legend, when in fact, we are remembering the truth."
"I have not had too much of the weed. I wish it were that simple."
He smiled his crooked yellowed smile at her.
"I'm afraid I am all too serious about this."
He took her cue at taking a few deep breaths and trying to calm down and think rationally. He followed suit. When she asked about the battle, he honestly did not know.
"My lady, if I could tell you which for certain, I would, but I cannot because I do not know. I am sure that Men forget, and they are doomed to repeat their mistakes of the past if they do not learn from them. Perhaps what I saw was a bit of both. I pray that it was all in the past, and that because I saw it, I can help us from the doom of repeating it, but I honestly do not know."
He took a deep breath and swallowed nervously.
"Will you help me talk to your mother?"
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“Of course, I will help you,†she replied.
“But, we must get some sleep. She will help us in the morning, I’m sure, though . . .I think we should find her at breakfast. I heard her talking today about finding someway to contact my father. I think she is desperate to hear how his campaign is going.†She scoffed slightly at the memory of her father’s brash action.
“She mentioned talking to Achlos.â€
The fair haired noble sighed.
“I’m afraid,†said the girl calmly, “that this is all rather upsetting. I think it is time we retired for the evening.â€
“Will tomorrow work, do you think Motley?â€
“But, we must get some sleep. She will help us in the morning, I’m sure, though . . .I think we should find her at breakfast. I heard her talking today about finding someway to contact my father. I think she is desperate to hear how his campaign is going.†She scoffed slightly at the memory of her father’s brash action.
“She mentioned talking to Achlos.â€
The fair haired noble sighed.
“I’m afraid,†said the girl calmly, “that this is all rather upsetting. I think it is time we retired for the evening.â€
“Will tomorrow work, do you think Motley?â€
A wave of relief washed through the little man that she was willing to help. He knew that what he was suggesting would be very difficult for some to deal with, but if they could convince the Countess, others would fall in line with the policies she mandated for the Keep.
"It does my heart good to hear you say that you will help. I appreciate it very much, and I think it speaks well of your character that you are willing to do so. Thank you."
Motley nodded his agreement with her plan.
"I'm sure Achlos will have a way to contact the Count. I'm sure you are both ready for some news and to be sure he is well. I shall come find you tomorrow morning and perhaps we can speak with her after her breakfast."
He wanted to hug her for some reason. He felt oddly close to her at that moment so he lingered strangely, unsure of how to proceed. He settled for a deep bow to the lady and a jaunty wink.
"It does my heart good to hear you say that you will help. I appreciate it very much, and I think it speaks well of your character that you are willing to do so. Thank you."
Motley nodded his agreement with her plan.
"I'm sure Achlos will have a way to contact the Count. I'm sure you are both ready for some news and to be sure he is well. I shall come find you tomorrow morning and perhaps we can speak with her after her breakfast."
He wanted to hug her for some reason. He felt oddly close to her at that moment so he lingered strangely, unsure of how to proceed. He settled for a deep bow to the lady and a jaunty wink.
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