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[5E] The Age of Worms - Solid Snake's Campaign
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<blockquote data-quote="SolidSnake_01" data-source="post: 7564872" data-attributes="member: 63254"><p><strong>Journal of Etona - 23</strong></p><p></p><p>Jodan says there is a man, someone from Treig’s past evidently, waiting for him not far from the mouth of the Cairn. We go to see him, Treig fingering a dagger and looking grim.</p><p></p><p>All I remember is an all-too-human smile of triumph and malice, for he was an illusionist who somehow got into my head as soon as we arrived, and....</p><p></p><p>... and I am my aunt, and Mistress Moon is lying on the ground like some grand cake, and kobolds are chewing on Her, how dare they?? I am Verdre as black and green puma now and attack them savagely. I revel at the blood I spill, sharp claws slashing, coiled strength in my legs to pounce, and one after another they burst into dead meat, these helpless mice, so much more satisfying than using a bow or mere trap. How sad my people are who cannot know the scent, the taste, the touch, the primal joy of ripping the life out!</p><p></p><p>I am not Verdre, I realize, though it doesn’t matter in my wild state. I am someone else. A mad relative I used to know.</p><p></p><p>I am restrained. Crazed. I roar, I bellow, it is Etona screaming tight in Rey’s grip who was not shouting “Skaen, Take her! Take her for yourself!!” at all but rather, “Etona, shh, calm down, shh,” in her normal, calm voice.</p><p></p><p>It is some time before I can stop shivering in her arms.</p><p></p><p>I have rent my armor, removed as much as a frenzied madwoman could. My fingers bled with the effort. And I am exhausted, barely aware that there was an outside force, a man who did this to me. Two men. No, just one. The other is from memory.</p><p></p><p>I fall off whatever unstable, bony thing I seem to be on. Oh, it is Eager. Rey and I are sitting on him. He is covering his head, shielding himself from ... from me.</p><p></p><p>As I rise, I finally see that she is bleeding from numerous scratches on her hands and face. I point to myself, shake my head, not me, right? But she nods ruefully.</p><p></p><p>“Oh Rey. Oh Rey, I am so sorry.” I don’t know what else to say.</p><p></p><p>She smooths back my hair and says, “Your tribe must be a force of nature if their littlest member – that is what you keep telling me – could do that to me. I almost couldn’t manage you at all.”</p><p></p><p>I regard myself. Bruises, nothing more. I hold her tight. “Thank you for not breaking me.”</p><p></p><p>“I don’t think I could.”</p><p></p><p>Deep breath.</p><p></p><p>“Where is he?” I ask.</p><p></p><p>“Gone,” Treig answers without looking over.</p><p></p><p>“What is his name?”</p><p></p><p>“<strong>Darius Argosson</strong>. Yes, I understand that look in your eyes: I want to find him again as well.”</p><p></p><p>“I think,” Eager states uneasily against the silence, “I think we need to take our story and these artifacts to Magepoint.”</p><p></p><p>“The home of the Archmage Tenser?” says Jodan.</p><p></p><p>“Aye, that’s the woon.”</p><p></p><p>“He may have some insight into what to do with the Rod fragment,” adds Treig.</p><p></p><p>“I mean no offense, gentlemen,” I state, “but I am uneasy about giving an item of such power to a human.”</p><p></p><p>“I am not human,” says Treig with a smile.</p><p></p><p>That will be an interesting conversation for later.</p><p></p><p>“You have our next moves, I see. But what is the last one?” Jodan asks.</p><p></p><p>“I have the last move as well,” Treig replies.</p><p></p><p>“What is it?”</p><p></p><p>“That stays in my head.”</p><p></p><p>Intriguing. In-Treig-ing. Oh! I suddenly understand the name, I think. Not a human, he says. And also not from this world, he has intimated. Perhaps Treig is a title and not a name?</p><p>Moves. Chess moves. I try to piece together scattered Dragon Chess games I played with Shag, connect them with my vision from inside the Cairn. Nothing comes.</p><p></p><p>“So,” I continue, “we should walk into the home of one of the most powerful human mages with a part of a legendary artifact and ask him what we should do with it?” I ask. “I just want to be clear.”</p><p></p><p>“Yes,” Eager agrees with a smile as if I was finally getting the lesson he has been trying in vain to teach me. “Aye, that’s exactly what we should do!”</p><p></p><p>“You already agreed to this, Etona,” chides Treig.</p><p></p><p>“What do we know about this Tenser? Aside from having his name on a handy utility spell?” I ask.</p><p></p><p>This prompts almost an hour of Egan and Treig relating different parts of the man’s storied life. It is all entertaining but I am not convinced. However, my Mistress bids me to be the arrow that lights the way and not some general calling troops to battle. With Rey genuinely not seeming to care one way or the other, and Jodan strangely silent after his initial misgivings, I accede.</p><p></p><p>We ask Seraph’s guardians for their aid in transporting us to Mageland, or whatever it was called, in the morning. I was expecting some method of flight or at least a map. Instead we were to be teleported. It is something like using a portal but you create the portal yourself and it lasts but a moment. In explaining the process, both Treig and Jodan try to tell me that my body will pass through another plane of existence to re-emerge at Tenser’s place. It is nigh-instantaneous. And safe ... ish.</p><p></p><p>The look on Rey’s face must have matched my own, but new experiences should not be batted away lightly, and these men have lived this long, so let us try it, I say. It may be a tea of a delightful flavor.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>It is not a tea of any flavor unless drinking tea is like blindly falling through an icy tunnel lined with icicle shards. But by the time I recover my senses enough to be alarmed, we are already there, at Tenser’s place, in a sparking golden circle that is just fading.</p><p></p><p>A permanently unsuprised gnome is watching us from a booth nearby waiting for us to put ourselves together. He wears an expression of watching two bugs crawl along a wall in opposite directions and silently betting which one would disappear from view first. Above his head is a sign, in Elven, that reads, <strong><em>Thy questions received here.</em></strong></p><p></p><p>Treig steps forward and tries to inject some urgency into the gnome’s day. “It is imperative that we meet with Archmage Tenser at his earliest convenience. We have with us powerful artifacts that he will wish to inspect immediately.”</p><p></p><p>“Name,” the gnome replies.</p><p></p><p>“This is Rey,” Treig says for some reason. “The Dragonspeaker.”</p><p></p><p>It is plain the gnome has no idea who she, or indeed any of us, are. “Whom does she serve?”</p><p></p><p>“Seraph.”</p><p></p><p>“Is this a dragon?” Treig nods, a little dejected I think. Jodan looks about ready to try his hand, perhaps introducing himself, but the gnome goes on:</p><p></p><p>“Lord Tenser entertains a number of powerful guests. At the moment he is indisposed. Please make yourself at home in the All-Seeing Eye, our local inn. There you will be contacted by a woman named <strong>Celeste</strong>.”</p><p></p><p>“What does she look like?”</p><p></p><p>The gnome conjures an image of the woman and we are shooed out just as the circle is coming to life again, presumably bringing in another group. </p><p></p><p>We find Celeste readily enough at the inn waiting with that other human wizard we dealt with in Greyhawk, <strong>Elgios</strong>. Another working for Tenser, <strong>Cymria</strong>, invites us to stay in the castle and await the archmage’s return. When when we demur, she offers to Rey and myself a forest growing in the courtyard. A stand of ancient redwoods: they have much to tell, if you have the time. I will meditate there.</p><p></p><p>Some hours later, we are sent word to meet Tenser at his inner sanctum. It is a large, ornate, heavily-decorated chamber that would be worth exploring for a day in its own right.</p><p></p><p>“Look at this!” Eager cries, pointing to a Dragonchess board. As he happily talks about a game he or Allustan was playing here somehow but also remotely somewhere else, I examine the board. </p><p></p><p>It is arrayed about fifteen moves in, I think. One side is clearly winning, but I don’t have enough knowledge of the game to guess any more. Treig steps up, glances at the board and moves a piece. It seems like a good move, not one I noticed. He walks away without comment.</p><p></p><p>Tenser arrives.</p><p></p><p>“I am sorry to have kept you waiting,” he says, “but I heard you were looking for me. What can I do for you?”</p><p></p><p>Humble words from a powerful personage: just like the Fey Court. I am on my guard listening for Court words of power inaudible to any who are not prepared. Rey and Egan are waiting for me to speak, but an archmage who might know of the Bindings renders me unwilling to step forward.</p><p></p><p>Fortunately, Treig does so instead providing a detailed report of everything he had witnessed in Greyhawk and Diamond Lake. At his story’s conclusion, Rey pulls out the Rod fragment and thunks it onto a nearby desk.</p><p></p><p>The wizard’s mouth drops open.</p><p></p><p>“Then the Age of Worms is upon us,” he whispers. “Balakard was not mad after all.”</p><p></p><p>“It is a dangerous artifact, Lord Tenser,” Treig says.</p><p></p><p>“Indeed, Treig. Do you know precisely what this is? It is the keystone piece of the Rod of Seven Parts.</p><p></p><p>All other parts of the Rod are attracted to this one. This fact alone makes it the most powerful.”</p><p></p><p>“We have brought it to you for safekeeping.”</p><p></p><p>“For the moment,” Jodan adds quietly and I nod in agreement. Tenser regards us, taking in my bow marking me a priest of Sehanine; Rey at whom he squints and then raises an eyebrow; Eager, looking at him eagerly; and finally Jodan on whom his gaze lingers thoughtfully.</p><p></p><p>He returns to Treig.</p><p></p><p>“This is not the only reason you are here, though, is it?” the wizard continues. “You are here because there are no coincidences.”</p><p></p><p>“Sir?” Treig prompts.</p><p></p><p>“Over the last few years, prophecies foretold over millennia past have come to be. Kyuss’ legacy endures.” He walks to an oval table of granite that seems to have been made useless by the presence of an obsidian lip all the way around it, two handspans high and curving in towards the center. He gestures.</p><p></p><p>A map of the world appears. It focuses on where we are now and then the scene speeds to a jungle far to the south.</p><p></p><p>“Kyuss was an inhabitant of the <strong>Amedio Jungle</strong>. There he built a following of worshipers who were sacrificed for his ascension to godhood. The grim edifice of his unholy transformation,” he gestures and the scene zooms in to show a temple with a large, unusual shape on its roof, “is known as the <strong>Spire of Long Shadows</strong>. It remains there to this day. A colleague of mine, <strong>Balakard</strong>, went to explore them some time ago. He returned with his research but has since gone missing since he journeyed north.”</p><p></p><p>“How does any of this help us destroy Dragotha?” Rey interjected.</p><p></p><p>“I am not entirely sure,” Tenser replied. “However, if this Dragotha is an agent of Kyuss, then answers may be there that Balakard did not uncover, being on his own and unable to field the resources a party of seasoned adventurers like you can.”</p><p></p><p>“With all due respect, Lord Tenser,” says Treig, “our group is not comprised of heroes. Some of us are very far from it. This expedition sounds extremely dangerous with a possibility of yielding very little actionable information. Every instinct I have tells me that our going there is not an intelligent decision. To be frank, I am not even sure why I am here now.”</p><p></p><p>“And yet here you are,” Tenser says with a smile, “lost and in search of something greater than yourself. You have been wandering, trying to hide from it, but there is no escaping it. You seek that prime motivator: <em>purpose</em>. It is knocking at your door right now. Will you answer? Many lives will depend on your choices.” </p><p></p><p>Treig lights another of his peculiar cigars. “I don’t speak for everyone.” </p><p></p><p>“No,” I say aloud but soften the word with a smile. “You do not.”</p><p></p><p>He continues. “We will have to discuss this before we can give you an answer. But I can say this: I do not work for free.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, I never said you were stupid,” Tenser replies with a grin. “What will you need?”</p><p></p><p>“Information,” I say.</p><p></p><p>“And magic,” adds Treig. “Lots of magic.”</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>One of the things we have been carrying is a transfer stone, and it is unusually powerful, says Tenser as we discuss the artifacts. All of the souls the doppleganger imprisoned there – three of them – are still inside.</p><p></p><p>One of them is Phreet.</p><p></p><p>I take the stone to a private chamber and talk to her, meditate with her, share my thoughts with her though Tenser said she would probably not be able to hear me or even understand that I was nearby. Nevertheless, I readied her as best I could for her release to wherever lost little human souls go when they lose their fragile tether to this world.</p><p></p><p>Tenser kept the stone in exchange for freeing these souls, for freeing <em>me’fr-laya anu</em>, my little sister of my heart. </p><p></p><p>“Thank you Egan. Thank you Rey.” For they had allowed this apparently powerful and valuable stone to be traded for its contents’ freedom. I knew Rey would support this but was unsure of Egan. He was sad but had no objections.</p><p></p><p>During this, much discussion had been happening between the rest of the party and Tenser. I relied upon Rey to speak for me, though I did ask for one item.</p><p></p><p>“We will go and explore these ruins for you,” Treig is saying to Tenser once I had rejoined everyone.</p><p></p><p>“But with stipulations. I assume you want your own men with us?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes, I will send a war-forged with you.”</p><p></p><p>“A what?” Rey asks.</p><p></p><p>“It is like a golem,” Egan says, “but with intelligence.”</p><p></p><p>My own experience with a war-forged years ago left me welcoming the idea. He had been a true friend, a leader even though he wore no flesh.</p><p></p><p>“I very much want to speak to him,” I say.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>We take full advantage of Tenser’s open vaults: the archmage seems to genuinely want us to succeed and offers much to that end.</p><p></p><p>An enchantment allows Rey’s spear to miniaturize and attach to her bracers in addition to bringing out lightning’s explosive characteristic.</p><p></p><p>Obi will be transported into a war machine. Rey and I talk about this, and she of course spends time making Obi understand, as best as either of them can, what this means to Obi.</p><p></p><p>“It is reversible?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes. We have done this many times.”</p><p></p><p>There seemed to be little objection from Obi who apparently relished the idea of an iron hide and steel claws.</p><p></p><p>Treig stocks up on radiant <em>grenades</em>, explosive potions in hard but easily-broken shells and bolts with Lesser Restoration cast into them. Of these latter, Rey and once she arrives, Verdre, both ask for in arrow form.</p><p></p><p>I would value a new pair of waterproof, sturdy boots. These turn out to be lizard skin, extendable to the thigh, very useful in swaps and jungles. Supple, and not stitched, I daresay, by manual means.</p><p></p><p>Tenser suggests potions allowing us to become Ethereal. We would walk through the place we normally teleported through? It renders us invisible and without solid form.</p><p></p><p>“We become ghosts?” I ask.</p><p></p><p>“To others here on Prime, eh, the Prime Material Plane, yes,” Tenser’s quartermaster explains.</p><p></p><p>Jodan works with one of the priests here to fashion a ring out of which his ancestors’ spirits can issue. Once perfected, they surround him as radiant guardians. As I watch a demonstration of the finished relic, several spirits float by. At least a few resemble Jodan himself.</p><p></p><p>“That is marvelous,” I say to Verdre. “His own people rising to defend him in his hour of need.”</p><p></p><p>“Yes,” she replies, “if they do not mind being pulled back from rest to this plane of pain.”</p><p></p><p>These preparations take time, an entire cycle, but thankfully the men in our party exercise patience.</p><p></p><p>Tenser finds Verdre and pulled her to me as part of the bargain! Whatever happens, my stride has lengthened with hope and confidence now. </p><p></p><p>Before she arrived, though, I spend my <em>dorse’feu</em> not bathed with pleasure but rather recalling the <em>fierc’e</em> that Darius had summoned in me, the ‘burning blood’ that some among my people are awash in during <em>dors’e han</em>, the full moon. I have known it before: when I was wandering in the wilderness bereft of friend or people, I relied on it to keep me alive. A low-level but constant hum, it fuels my training regimen, pushing myself until I ache, endlessly exercising and performing katae with a weapon I have not touched in years: a heavy lump of metal to knock the wind out of any who would challenge me: a human-made mace. It is not like the one I will use again soon – soon now! – but this clumsy one’s added weight and crude design builds my strength.</p><p></p><p>My companions, even Rey, are taken aback by the ferocity they meet in sparring with me during the days around the full moon. I annoy and amuse Treig in equal measure and almost rouse the Hell within Jodan. I do unleash the dragon within Rey. This latter I will describe because it fills me with regret. We were running and engaging and retreating one evening, Her full face overhead. At one point I was able to hide from Rey and, when she took an incautious turn, I slammed into her from concealment knocking her flat on her stomach. She roared up and saw I was already a score of steps away, silvered-eyed – not myself at all, for I do not remember any of this – and I was drawing Angivre! </p><p></p><p>So she, having also left part of herself behind, struck back.</p><p></p><p>She leaped from sitting prone all the way to where I was crouching, a blue dragon in flight, and blasted me off of my feet when she landed. I heard familiar laughter among thunder, shock of lightning, and the slash of her spear across my stomach ... all in a single instant before I blacked out. </p><p></p><p>When I regained consciousness, only a moment later thank the Goddess, I was myself again, and so was Rey. She was beside herself with worry, but when she saw I was all right upon awakening she witched to anger. Explaining and soothing and more explaining about my past and my role in the tribe would not let fade the terrible light in her eyes ... at first. But gradually I brought her friendship back to me.</p><p></p><p>To this very moment I do not know which upset her more: my silver eyes or her own fury. She said that on drawing Angivre, the Silver had never shone quite like that before, and there had been a terrible shriek of ice cracking as I pulled back. But it had only barely registered in her own ferocious rage.</p><p></p><p>My Lady engineered this. She wanted to push Rey to her limits to reveal her true power to herself, I hope. I hope that is what this was. So yes, Rey’s fear and anger are well justified: she saw betrayal in me for a moment, or a goddess. Could she view me the same after either?</p><p></p><p>Later, as she was going to bed, I sat down and gazed at her.</p><p></p><p>“What?” she demanded.</p><p></p><p>“I would not have fired.” It is the one thing I hadn’t been able to say before, but I was sure of it now.</p><p></p><p>“You don’t know that.”</p><p></p><p>“Yes. I do.”</p><p></p><p>After a few minutes, she said, “All right. I am going to sleep now.”</p><p></p><p>“I will watch over you.”</p><p></p><p>“That’s ... not necessary, Etona.”</p><p></p><p>I just looked back at her, obviously unsettling her, but I was resolute and stayed there most of the night though I took my leave before she awoke the next morning. I believe her human half was, what is that human term, like disturbed but has other little meanings? Oh yes. I believe I creeped her out. </p><p></p><p>I see I have not yet written why I was training with mace and clumsy human chain mail. In a turn of events I could never ever dreamed of, mine were coming back to me!</p><p></p><p>When I was Her priest, before I disgraced myself, I wore Her armor, wielded Her weapon of war and channeled Her very spirit through me. I am not what I once was, but I am crawling back, and this <em>dorse’feu</em> urged me to remember, makes my muscles remember to be Her silver warrior again one day.</p><p></p><p>I have Tenser to thank. He has emerged generous where our offer to retain and study the Rod are concerned. His couriers and magicks have allowed me to speak to my father directly, and this alone is worth my allegiance. It is difficult to be away from him for so long. Through him I was able to ask for the reforging of my armor and mace using the materials I sent from Greyhawk. Tamyl, our leader, agreed and directed all I needed to me before we left for ... wherever it is we are going. She, too, had shared the vision Verdre had. Our people have, after these four years I have been away, once again begun to battle the worms. They are only a few days from the Mirror. She reports that the Bright continues to be poisoned as well. She hopes I will help to end all this.</p><p></p><p>And, as we said our goodbyes: “<em>Myaeree’Emersanine</em>, <em>Etona Aerq’e windyu</em>.”</p><p></p><p>Welcome home, Etona Silver-Eyes. In one phrase she acknowledged that I was once again part of our tribe and once more our priestess and speaker for Sehanine.</p><p></p><p>“Thank you, Tamyl.” It was all I could do to prevent my voice from breaking.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>After examining the images of the jungle and its mysterious temple, we turned to talk about its inhabitants.</p><p></p><p>Surrounding the structure is a wall built long ago by a group called the Wardens of the First Watch. Its purpose was to seal in Kyuss and whatever happened to him. This was so long ago that even Tenser does not know very much about them, though the name rings a bell for me. It will come in a vision, I hope, because it is a far-off, very vague feeling.</p><p></p><p>Something has made its way out of the seal, and whatever it is brings the Age of Worms and its infections to the world.</p><p></p><p>Around the outside of the wall are tribes of yuan-ti and trolls, neither of whom would be helpful to us – Verdre and I were assured after much back and forth debate – in any way.</p><p></p><p>We are to be teleported again, not terribly close to the ziggarat. Apparently this is somewhat of an unknown since the temple is so heavily protected by wards that teleportation nearby is difficult. </p><p></p><p>The structure is some forty feet tall, jutting from the rest of the flat jungle like a misshapen finger pointing accusingly at the sky. It sits, timeless, in that very wild place of no civilizations, though the area may have entrances to the Fae. If so, the Bright’s problems with corruption may be coming from that source.</p><p></p><p>It was designed to transform Kyuss into a god. Protected by spells neither allowing teleportation into it nor scrying beyond a look at its outer face, and surrounded by those evil tribes, it could hardly be more shrouded in unnatural darkness and dread.</p><p></p><p>As I look at the Spire of Long Shadows, I recall when I was but a girl. Skaen told me of his friend, Tuaru, a druid living in something called by the humans a desert. Tuaru was himself a human, dark of skin and, according to Skaen, tough as an armored boar. He told of plants there called kactuses or kactusi or something like that: thorny, thick, man-high reservoirs of water that bloomed six days per anoom, or year. He had some drawings of these everlasting plants. I remember them now. What sort of reservoir is this building? From what precious blood does it derive its immortality? </p><p></p><p>But this malignant thing is in the world, and outside on the surface. It will find itself illuminated by My Lady’s Silver soon enough.</p><p></p><p>On the last day of the month we meet with Tenser again, ready for our journey. We are all wearing new or improved magical armor and weapons including Verdre’s new Druidscale and my reforged armor and mace. We are ready. I am ready.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="SolidSnake_01, post: 7564872, member: 63254"] [b]Journal of Etona - 23[/b] Jodan says there is a man, someone from Treig’s past evidently, waiting for him not far from the mouth of the Cairn. We go to see him, Treig fingering a dagger and looking grim. All I remember is an all-too-human smile of triumph and malice, for he was an illusionist who somehow got into my head as soon as we arrived, and.... ... and I am my aunt, and Mistress Moon is lying on the ground like some grand cake, and kobolds are chewing on Her, how dare they?? I am Verdre as black and green puma now and attack them savagely. I revel at the blood I spill, sharp claws slashing, coiled strength in my legs to pounce, and one after another they burst into dead meat, these helpless mice, so much more satisfying than using a bow or mere trap. How sad my people are who cannot know the scent, the taste, the touch, the primal joy of ripping the life out! I am not Verdre, I realize, though it doesn’t matter in my wild state. I am someone else. A mad relative I used to know. I am restrained. Crazed. I roar, I bellow, it is Etona screaming tight in Rey’s grip who was not shouting “Skaen, Take her! Take her for yourself!!” at all but rather, “Etona, shh, calm down, shh,” in her normal, calm voice. It is some time before I can stop shivering in her arms. I have rent my armor, removed as much as a frenzied madwoman could. My fingers bled with the effort. And I am exhausted, barely aware that there was an outside force, a man who did this to me. Two men. No, just one. The other is from memory. I fall off whatever unstable, bony thing I seem to be on. Oh, it is Eager. Rey and I are sitting on him. He is covering his head, shielding himself from ... from me. As I rise, I finally see that she is bleeding from numerous scratches on her hands and face. I point to myself, shake my head, not me, right? But she nods ruefully. “Oh Rey. Oh Rey, I am so sorry.” I don’t know what else to say. She smooths back my hair and says, “Your tribe must be a force of nature if their littlest member – that is what you keep telling me – could do that to me. I almost couldn’t manage you at all.” I regard myself. Bruises, nothing more. I hold her tight. “Thank you for not breaking me.” “I don’t think I could.” Deep breath. “Where is he?” I ask. “Gone,” Treig answers without looking over. “What is his name?” “[B]Darius Argosson[/B]. Yes, I understand that look in your eyes: I want to find him again as well.” “I think,” Eager states uneasily against the silence, “I think we need to take our story and these artifacts to Magepoint.” “The home of the Archmage Tenser?” says Jodan. “Aye, that’s the woon.” “He may have some insight into what to do with the Rod fragment,” adds Treig. “I mean no offense, gentlemen,” I state, “but I am uneasy about giving an item of such power to a human.” “I am not human,” says Treig with a smile. That will be an interesting conversation for later. “You have our next moves, I see. But what is the last one?” Jodan asks. “I have the last move as well,” Treig replies. “What is it?” “That stays in my head.” Intriguing. In-Treig-ing. Oh! I suddenly understand the name, I think. Not a human, he says. And also not from this world, he has intimated. Perhaps Treig is a title and not a name? Moves. Chess moves. I try to piece together scattered Dragon Chess games I played with Shag, connect them with my vision from inside the Cairn. Nothing comes. “So,” I continue, “we should walk into the home of one of the most powerful human mages with a part of a legendary artifact and ask him what we should do with it?” I ask. “I just want to be clear.” “Yes,” Eager agrees with a smile as if I was finally getting the lesson he has been trying in vain to teach me. “Aye, that’s exactly what we should do!” “You already agreed to this, Etona,” chides Treig. “What do we know about this Tenser? Aside from having his name on a handy utility spell?” I ask. This prompts almost an hour of Egan and Treig relating different parts of the man’s storied life. It is all entertaining but I am not convinced. However, my Mistress bids me to be the arrow that lights the way and not some general calling troops to battle. With Rey genuinely not seeming to care one way or the other, and Jodan strangely silent after his initial misgivings, I accede. We ask Seraph’s guardians for their aid in transporting us to Mageland, or whatever it was called, in the morning. I was expecting some method of flight or at least a map. Instead we were to be teleported. It is something like using a portal but you create the portal yourself and it lasts but a moment. In explaining the process, both Treig and Jodan try to tell me that my body will pass through another plane of existence to re-emerge at Tenser’s place. It is nigh-instantaneous. And safe ... ish. The look on Rey’s face must have matched my own, but new experiences should not be batted away lightly, and these men have lived this long, so let us try it, I say. It may be a tea of a delightful flavor. *** It is not a tea of any flavor unless drinking tea is like blindly falling through an icy tunnel lined with icicle shards. But by the time I recover my senses enough to be alarmed, we are already there, at Tenser’s place, in a sparking golden circle that is just fading. A permanently unsuprised gnome is watching us from a booth nearby waiting for us to put ourselves together. He wears an expression of watching two bugs crawl along a wall in opposite directions and silently betting which one would disappear from view first. Above his head is a sign, in Elven, that reads, [B][I]Thy questions received here.[/I][/B] Treig steps forward and tries to inject some urgency into the gnome’s day. “It is imperative that we meet with Archmage Tenser at his earliest convenience. We have with us powerful artifacts that he will wish to inspect immediately.” “Name,” the gnome replies. “This is Rey,” Treig says for some reason. “The Dragonspeaker.” It is plain the gnome has no idea who she, or indeed any of us, are. “Whom does she serve?” “Seraph.” “Is this a dragon?” Treig nods, a little dejected I think. Jodan looks about ready to try his hand, perhaps introducing himself, but the gnome goes on: “Lord Tenser entertains a number of powerful guests. At the moment he is indisposed. Please make yourself at home in the All-Seeing Eye, our local inn. There you will be contacted by a woman named [B]Celeste[/B].” “What does she look like?” The gnome conjures an image of the woman and we are shooed out just as the circle is coming to life again, presumably bringing in another group. We find Celeste readily enough at the inn waiting with that other human wizard we dealt with in Greyhawk, [B]Elgios[/B]. Another working for Tenser, [B]Cymria[/B], invites us to stay in the castle and await the archmage’s return. When when we demur, she offers to Rey and myself a forest growing in the courtyard. A stand of ancient redwoods: they have much to tell, if you have the time. I will meditate there. Some hours later, we are sent word to meet Tenser at his inner sanctum. It is a large, ornate, heavily-decorated chamber that would be worth exploring for a day in its own right. “Look at this!” Eager cries, pointing to a Dragonchess board. As he happily talks about a game he or Allustan was playing here somehow but also remotely somewhere else, I examine the board. It is arrayed about fifteen moves in, I think. One side is clearly winning, but I don’t have enough knowledge of the game to guess any more. Treig steps up, glances at the board and moves a piece. It seems like a good move, not one I noticed. He walks away without comment. Tenser arrives. “I am sorry to have kept you waiting,” he says, “but I heard you were looking for me. What can I do for you?” Humble words from a powerful personage: just like the Fey Court. I am on my guard listening for Court words of power inaudible to any who are not prepared. Rey and Egan are waiting for me to speak, but an archmage who might know of the Bindings renders me unwilling to step forward. Fortunately, Treig does so instead providing a detailed report of everything he had witnessed in Greyhawk and Diamond Lake. At his story’s conclusion, Rey pulls out the Rod fragment and thunks it onto a nearby desk. The wizard’s mouth drops open. “Then the Age of Worms is upon us,” he whispers. “Balakard was not mad after all.” “It is a dangerous artifact, Lord Tenser,” Treig says. “Indeed, Treig. Do you know precisely what this is? It is the keystone piece of the Rod of Seven Parts. All other parts of the Rod are attracted to this one. This fact alone makes it the most powerful.” “We have brought it to you for safekeeping.” “For the moment,” Jodan adds quietly and I nod in agreement. Tenser regards us, taking in my bow marking me a priest of Sehanine; Rey at whom he squints and then raises an eyebrow; Eager, looking at him eagerly; and finally Jodan on whom his gaze lingers thoughtfully. He returns to Treig. “This is not the only reason you are here, though, is it?” the wizard continues. “You are here because there are no coincidences.” “Sir?” Treig prompts. “Over the last few years, prophecies foretold over millennia past have come to be. Kyuss’ legacy endures.” He walks to an oval table of granite that seems to have been made useless by the presence of an obsidian lip all the way around it, two handspans high and curving in towards the center. He gestures. A map of the world appears. It focuses on where we are now and then the scene speeds to a jungle far to the south. “Kyuss was an inhabitant of the [B]Amedio Jungle[/B]. There he built a following of worshipers who were sacrificed for his ascension to godhood. The grim edifice of his unholy transformation,” he gestures and the scene zooms in to show a temple with a large, unusual shape on its roof, “is known as the [B]Spire of Long Shadows[/B]. It remains there to this day. A colleague of mine, [B]Balakard[/B], went to explore them some time ago. He returned with his research but has since gone missing since he journeyed north.” “How does any of this help us destroy Dragotha?” Rey interjected. “I am not entirely sure,” Tenser replied. “However, if this Dragotha is an agent of Kyuss, then answers may be there that Balakard did not uncover, being on his own and unable to field the resources a party of seasoned adventurers like you can.” “With all due respect, Lord Tenser,” says Treig, “our group is not comprised of heroes. Some of us are very far from it. This expedition sounds extremely dangerous with a possibility of yielding very little actionable information. Every instinct I have tells me that our going there is not an intelligent decision. To be frank, I am not even sure why I am here now.” “And yet here you are,” Tenser says with a smile, “lost and in search of something greater than yourself. You have been wandering, trying to hide from it, but there is no escaping it. You seek that prime motivator: [I]purpose[/I]. It is knocking at your door right now. Will you answer? Many lives will depend on your choices.” Treig lights another of his peculiar cigars. “I don’t speak for everyone.” “No,” I say aloud but soften the word with a smile. “You do not.” He continues. “We will have to discuss this before we can give you an answer. But I can say this: I do not work for free.” “Well, I never said you were stupid,” Tenser replies with a grin. “What will you need?” “Information,” I say. “And magic,” adds Treig. “Lots of magic.” *** One of the things we have been carrying is a transfer stone, and it is unusually powerful, says Tenser as we discuss the artifacts. All of the souls the doppleganger imprisoned there – three of them – are still inside. One of them is Phreet. I take the stone to a private chamber and talk to her, meditate with her, share my thoughts with her though Tenser said she would probably not be able to hear me or even understand that I was nearby. Nevertheless, I readied her as best I could for her release to wherever lost little human souls go when they lose their fragile tether to this world. Tenser kept the stone in exchange for freeing these souls, for freeing [I]me’fr-laya anu[/I], my little sister of my heart. “Thank you Egan. Thank you Rey.” For they had allowed this apparently powerful and valuable stone to be traded for its contents’ freedom. I knew Rey would support this but was unsure of Egan. He was sad but had no objections. During this, much discussion had been happening between the rest of the party and Tenser. I relied upon Rey to speak for me, though I did ask for one item. “We will go and explore these ruins for you,” Treig is saying to Tenser once I had rejoined everyone. “But with stipulations. I assume you want your own men with us?” “Yes, I will send a war-forged with you.” “A what?” Rey asks. “It is like a golem,” Egan says, “but with intelligence.” My own experience with a war-forged years ago left me welcoming the idea. He had been a true friend, a leader even though he wore no flesh. “I very much want to speak to him,” I say. *** We take full advantage of Tenser’s open vaults: the archmage seems to genuinely want us to succeed and offers much to that end. An enchantment allows Rey’s spear to miniaturize and attach to her bracers in addition to bringing out lightning’s explosive characteristic. Obi will be transported into a war machine. Rey and I talk about this, and she of course spends time making Obi understand, as best as either of them can, what this means to Obi. “It is reversible?” “Yes. We have done this many times.” There seemed to be little objection from Obi who apparently relished the idea of an iron hide and steel claws. Treig stocks up on radiant [I]grenades[/I], explosive potions in hard but easily-broken shells and bolts with Lesser Restoration cast into them. Of these latter, Rey and once she arrives, Verdre, both ask for in arrow form. I would value a new pair of waterproof, sturdy boots. These turn out to be lizard skin, extendable to the thigh, very useful in swaps and jungles. Supple, and not stitched, I daresay, by manual means. Tenser suggests potions allowing us to become Ethereal. We would walk through the place we normally teleported through? It renders us invisible and without solid form. “We become ghosts?” I ask. “To others here on Prime, eh, the Prime Material Plane, yes,” Tenser’s quartermaster explains. Jodan works with one of the priests here to fashion a ring out of which his ancestors’ spirits can issue. Once perfected, they surround him as radiant guardians. As I watch a demonstration of the finished relic, several spirits float by. At least a few resemble Jodan himself. “That is marvelous,” I say to Verdre. “His own people rising to defend him in his hour of need.” “Yes,” she replies, “if they do not mind being pulled back from rest to this plane of pain.” These preparations take time, an entire cycle, but thankfully the men in our party exercise patience. Tenser finds Verdre and pulled her to me as part of the bargain! Whatever happens, my stride has lengthened with hope and confidence now. Before she arrived, though, I spend my [I]dorse’feu[/I] not bathed with pleasure but rather recalling the [I]fierc’e[/I] that Darius had summoned in me, the ‘burning blood’ that some among my people are awash in during [I]dors’e han[/I], the full moon. I have known it before: when I was wandering in the wilderness bereft of friend or people, I relied on it to keep me alive. A low-level but constant hum, it fuels my training regimen, pushing myself until I ache, endlessly exercising and performing katae with a weapon I have not touched in years: a heavy lump of metal to knock the wind out of any who would challenge me: a human-made mace. It is not like the one I will use again soon – soon now! – but this clumsy one’s added weight and crude design builds my strength. My companions, even Rey, are taken aback by the ferocity they meet in sparring with me during the days around the full moon. I annoy and amuse Treig in equal measure and almost rouse the Hell within Jodan. I do unleash the dragon within Rey. This latter I will describe because it fills me with regret. We were running and engaging and retreating one evening, Her full face overhead. At one point I was able to hide from Rey and, when she took an incautious turn, I slammed into her from concealment knocking her flat on her stomach. She roared up and saw I was already a score of steps away, silvered-eyed – not myself at all, for I do not remember any of this – and I was drawing Angivre! So she, having also left part of herself behind, struck back. She leaped from sitting prone all the way to where I was crouching, a blue dragon in flight, and blasted me off of my feet when she landed. I heard familiar laughter among thunder, shock of lightning, and the slash of her spear across my stomach ... all in a single instant before I blacked out. When I regained consciousness, only a moment later thank the Goddess, I was myself again, and so was Rey. She was beside herself with worry, but when she saw I was all right upon awakening she witched to anger. Explaining and soothing and more explaining about my past and my role in the tribe would not let fade the terrible light in her eyes ... at first. But gradually I brought her friendship back to me. To this very moment I do not know which upset her more: my silver eyes or her own fury. She said that on drawing Angivre, the Silver had never shone quite like that before, and there had been a terrible shriek of ice cracking as I pulled back. But it had only barely registered in her own ferocious rage. My Lady engineered this. She wanted to push Rey to her limits to reveal her true power to herself, I hope. I hope that is what this was. So yes, Rey’s fear and anger are well justified: she saw betrayal in me for a moment, or a goddess. Could she view me the same after either? Later, as she was going to bed, I sat down and gazed at her. “What?” she demanded. “I would not have fired.” It is the one thing I hadn’t been able to say before, but I was sure of it now. “You don’t know that.” “Yes. I do.” After a few minutes, she said, “All right. I am going to sleep now.” “I will watch over you.” “That’s ... not necessary, Etona.” I just looked back at her, obviously unsettling her, but I was resolute and stayed there most of the night though I took my leave before she awoke the next morning. I believe her human half was, what is that human term, like disturbed but has other little meanings? Oh yes. I believe I creeped her out. I see I have not yet written why I was training with mace and clumsy human chain mail. In a turn of events I could never ever dreamed of, mine were coming back to me! When I was Her priest, before I disgraced myself, I wore Her armor, wielded Her weapon of war and channeled Her very spirit through me. I am not what I once was, but I am crawling back, and this [I]dorse’feu[/I] urged me to remember, makes my muscles remember to be Her silver warrior again one day. I have Tenser to thank. He has emerged generous where our offer to retain and study the Rod are concerned. His couriers and magicks have allowed me to speak to my father directly, and this alone is worth my allegiance. It is difficult to be away from him for so long. Through him I was able to ask for the reforging of my armor and mace using the materials I sent from Greyhawk. Tamyl, our leader, agreed and directed all I needed to me before we left for ... wherever it is we are going. She, too, had shared the vision Verdre had. Our people have, after these four years I have been away, once again begun to battle the worms. They are only a few days from the Mirror. She reports that the Bright continues to be poisoned as well. She hopes I will help to end all this. And, as we said our goodbyes: “[I]Myaeree’Emersanine[/I], [I]Etona Aerq’e windyu[/I].” Welcome home, Etona Silver-Eyes. In one phrase she acknowledged that I was once again part of our tribe and once more our priestess and speaker for Sehanine. “Thank you, Tamyl.” It was all I could do to prevent my voice from breaking. *** After examining the images of the jungle and its mysterious temple, we turned to talk about its inhabitants. Surrounding the structure is a wall built long ago by a group called the Wardens of the First Watch. Its purpose was to seal in Kyuss and whatever happened to him. This was so long ago that even Tenser does not know very much about them, though the name rings a bell for me. It will come in a vision, I hope, because it is a far-off, very vague feeling. Something has made its way out of the seal, and whatever it is brings the Age of Worms and its infections to the world. Around the outside of the wall are tribes of yuan-ti and trolls, neither of whom would be helpful to us – Verdre and I were assured after much back and forth debate – in any way. We are to be teleported again, not terribly close to the ziggarat. Apparently this is somewhat of an unknown since the temple is so heavily protected by wards that teleportation nearby is difficult. The structure is some forty feet tall, jutting from the rest of the flat jungle like a misshapen finger pointing accusingly at the sky. It sits, timeless, in that very wild place of no civilizations, though the area may have entrances to the Fae. If so, the Bright’s problems with corruption may be coming from that source. It was designed to transform Kyuss into a god. Protected by spells neither allowing teleportation into it nor scrying beyond a look at its outer face, and surrounded by those evil tribes, it could hardly be more shrouded in unnatural darkness and dread. As I look at the Spire of Long Shadows, I recall when I was but a girl. Skaen told me of his friend, Tuaru, a druid living in something called by the humans a desert. Tuaru was himself a human, dark of skin and, according to Skaen, tough as an armored boar. He told of plants there called kactuses or kactusi or something like that: thorny, thick, man-high reservoirs of water that bloomed six days per anoom, or year. He had some drawings of these everlasting plants. I remember them now. What sort of reservoir is this building? From what precious blood does it derive its immortality? But this malignant thing is in the world, and outside on the surface. It will find itself illuminated by My Lady’s Silver soon enough. On the last day of the month we meet with Tenser again, ready for our journey. We are all wearing new or improved magical armor and weapons including Verdre’s new Druidscale and my reforged armor and mace. We are ready. I am ready. [/QUOTE]
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[5E] The Age of Worms - Solid Snake's Campaign
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