Shadows 6.1
Nov. 2nd, 2006 11:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
measured_wordsNot the most action packed installment, but interesting I hope! I was planning to do a little bit more with this, but it was getting stupidly long so I reigned myself in. Enjoy :)
Shadows 6.1
Abe’s home in Shiroeki was quite large, consisting of one main house, a large courtyard and a large number of outbuildings the function of which Hadyn was still learning. One of these was her laboratory, and this was where she had indicated he should live. Apart from a brief meting where she had established some rather lose boundaries for him, he hadn’t seen her. He’d been given a list of books to read through and left to his own devices.
The library lay in its own outbuilding, joined to the main house by a slim annexed corridor down which he had yet to venture. The readings had kept him well occupied for the last week, and promised to fill his time for the foreseeable future. It was fascinating material - some were texts he was already partially familiar with, and at first he’d thought he could save time by skimming. Abe’s volumes, however, were filled with insightful and sometimes fascinatingly scathing commentary
Many of her volumes were quite ancient and required special care in handing. Hadyn wondered if she’d refrained from giving him instructions because she assumed as a wizard that he knew how to properly care for such delicate materials, or if she figured she’d done enough to instill him with the fear of her wrath. Probably both, he decided.
One of the texts she’d assigned was A History of the Rise and Fall of the Crimson King by Nortia Arialde Seia Mi Tereika Ana That same Elven historian was now allied with the Loyalist cause – probably hoping for some good sequel material. Her original volume was 1500 years old, and Abe’s version was a 3rd edition. The text left a lot of questions unanswered as it was written over a thousand years after the events it chronicled, but it provided a lot of insights that were long since lost. Hadyn wondered how much of what she’d written the author herself remembered.
As interesting as it was to read, he wasn’t certain how much directly helpful information it contained. It focused more on the historic attitudes that least up to and allowed for the Lich King’s initial rise. It spoke of his defeat in general terms: how Riss had allied with the Takewara family in the South, leading to the foundation of the Fourth Dynasty, the politicking between the Dwarven clans and the Aldryn, leading to the Dwarven colonization of the Ring Islands, and how the Elowyn had sanctified the northern forests to protect them from the incursion of demons and undead raised by the Crimson King’s followers. The lich’s resources had been different, and so had his tactics. There was little discussion of exactly how the church of Salistrom had finally defeated him. The Staff of Salistrom had in any case been destroyed in Exia on the Night of the Crimson Death – Hadyn had seen that himself.
The longer second part of Nortia’s text chronicled how the Crimson King’s empire had crumbled shortly after his defeat and the consequences of the war – the flourishing of the South under Takewara control, the increasing Xenophobia of many of the Dwarven clans and their subsequent withdrawal further into the mountains. She traced lingering remnants of he demon’s influence right up to her own time in this way, but Hadyn figured that it would take some fairly desperate reaching to extend evidence of that influence into the present… Except in the case of the Church of Salistrom. It was an interesting twist of fate that the group responsible for the cult’s original downfall had, three thousand years later, been the one to bring it back. Even Nortia’s was vague on the details of the split occurring at the time of her writing between its sects, the True Church and the Holy Church. Her footnotes detailed the difficulties she’d encountered accessing any church records, and an appendix chronicled the general decline in prominence of Salistrom in favour (in the North) of gods such as Esthalos, Sirian, Balint, and the newcomer, Leonidas.
So much for learning from the past. There was little there of direct use to the Loyalists. A careful reading might help trace the corruption of Salistrom’s followers, presumably from the inside, but even that had no immediate practical application that he could see. The bestiaries assigned which designated different types of demons with methods of summoning, banishing and binding, seemed a more fruitful avenue of research for both of Hadyn’s pet subjects.
When he was not reading, he spent some time investigating Abe’s extensive inventory of laboratory equipment. She had no scrying mirror, as she was not technically a wizard and could not use the spell. She possessed instead an object which Hadyn greatly coveted: a crystal ball. They were difficult to find, and cost a small fortune besides. The Loyalists didn’t have one despite their significant resources. Hadyn had been hoping to acquire one for his personal use for ages. He might have afforded one with his shares from Sterling’s company, but he’d never seen one for sale.
As with her books, Abe had given no instructions as to what part of the lab he could access, or on how to use any of her more esoteric equipment. He’d not been assigned any duties in the lab, but nothing was banned to him, and there were no further wards that he could detect that might have prevented him from using whatever he wanted.
He’d held off initially, expecting to see his patron, or captor, or teacher. For the past week he’d seen no one but servants, none of whom had answered any of his questions with more than nervous glances or apologetic bows. He’d experimented some after that, daring to clear a space for some of his own equipment. When he’d received no reprimand, he’d started examining the other resources at his disposal more carefully.
He’d finished Nortia’s book this morning, and examined some of the other texts in the afternoon, but he was sick of reading and the ball beckoned him. There was still no sign of Master Teacher Abe. Hadyn carefully tidied the library and straightened the lab, then, finally, removed the orb from its locked glass case. He’d been given a ring of keys along with the passwords to various wards when he’d been installed in the compound.
He set the orb reverently on the worktable he’d appropriated, and sat before it. He didn’t know the power of this particular device – it warranted a test on a familiar target. Lendrick warded himself against scrying, a precaution he’d picked up from Hadyn after they’d fled Exia together with the cult hot on their heels. The Half-Elf was not as powerful a wizard as himself, though they were both reckoned as High Magi. Hadyn was closer to advancement than his friend, but still had a hard time penetrating Lendrick’s wards on his own.
Operating the device required intense concentration, and Hadyn focused his mind on thoughts and memories of his friend as he began the incantations. This test would be a lengthy process, but it was important. First he needed to tune the crystal’s energies to himself, and force its inherent magic to awaken the same way he would force his own power through a mirror. Scrying through a ball wasn’t any faster, but the items often had other properties that could not be achieved with spells.
An hour later, a hazy image swam into view, and crystallized suddenly as the sphere’s power overwhelmed Lendrick’s ward. There he was in the ruins of the walled courtyard in Fort Cedric under the shade of a large tree, looking up at Sithra arching her naked back towards him as –
Disgusted, Hadyn looked away. It was the middle of the afternoon! Among the many things in the world he had no need or desire to lay eyes on, Lendrick having his way with his little trollop ranked quite high. At least he’d proved the power of the orb, even if he hadn’t had a chance to see what all it could do. That could come later.
He considered potential targets, his thoughts turning to a house he hadn’t seen in years. Was it safe? Did the building even still exist, or had it been replaced with something less tainted by death? What would there be to see, or to gain by looking? Nothing, and yet he couldn’t dismiss the idea.
He could have tried this before with the mirror I the Loyalist compound in Shinkyo, but he’d never felt fully assured of his privacy there. His situation now was different – he knew he’d never have his secrets respected despite his wishes or efforts. It rankled, and disturbed him deeply, but there would be no choice. The freedoms he seemed to have been given were just a trick, but the temptations lain in front of him now whispered that he may as well indulge his curiosity, no matter how morbid, while he had the chance.
Hadyn once again concentrated on the sphere, focusing his will. It didn’t matter that he’d just used it – the orb needed to be tuned with each use. Another hour passed as he forced the magic to see beyond Keth and through the distant planes to his home. It was a difficult prospect, and at first the view presented was unfocused. He realized he was holding his breath, and as he exhaled the image slowly crystallized.
The orb showed a corridor - the one leading to his father’s workroom. The door was open and the glyphs of warding had been removed. He’d spent hours in that room, reading off-limits books about different types of magic when his parents were away, or assisting his father with various projects when they were home. The door had never been left then as it was now – casually ajar. He reoriented his view to look the other way. To his left was the door to his mother’s even more foreboding study. Trophies taken from hunts against the enemies of their people – the Illithid, Githyanki, the Slaad – were displayed on the walls with grisly pride. He could bring instantly to mind the smell of the temple incense she burned to clarify her mind and center herself. He’d never come across anything like it on Keth, though he’d looked.
Now the room was occupied by two young girls seated on low benches, sewing and talking together. A simple woven tapestry of detached geometric shapes hung on the wall behind them. The girls were oblivious to their observer.
It should have been enough. Strangers lived here now. The house still stood, but it had changed. He felt empty, but even as he pressed on through the house, no epiphanies presented themselves. His family’s life here had been erased, just as they had been themselves. He withdrew from the vision feeling unsatisfied and lonely.
Shadows 6.1
Abe’s home in Shiroeki was quite large, consisting of one main house, a large courtyard and a large number of outbuildings the function of which Hadyn was still learning. One of these was her laboratory, and this was where she had indicated he should live. Apart from a brief meting where she had established some rather lose boundaries for him, he hadn’t seen her. He’d been given a list of books to read through and left to his own devices.
The library lay in its own outbuilding, joined to the main house by a slim annexed corridor down which he had yet to venture. The readings had kept him well occupied for the last week, and promised to fill his time for the foreseeable future. It was fascinating material - some were texts he was already partially familiar with, and at first he’d thought he could save time by skimming. Abe’s volumes, however, were filled with insightful and sometimes fascinatingly scathing commentary
Many of her volumes were quite ancient and required special care in handing. Hadyn wondered if she’d refrained from giving him instructions because she assumed as a wizard that he knew how to properly care for such delicate materials, or if she figured she’d done enough to instill him with the fear of her wrath. Probably both, he decided.
One of the texts she’d assigned was A History of the Rise and Fall of the Crimson King by Nortia Arialde Seia Mi Tereika Ana That same Elven historian was now allied with the Loyalist cause – probably hoping for some good sequel material. Her original volume was 1500 years old, and Abe’s version was a 3rd edition. The text left a lot of questions unanswered as it was written over a thousand years after the events it chronicled, but it provided a lot of insights that were long since lost. Hadyn wondered how much of what she’d written the author herself remembered.
As interesting as it was to read, he wasn’t certain how much directly helpful information it contained. It focused more on the historic attitudes that least up to and allowed for the Lich King’s initial rise. It spoke of his defeat in general terms: how Riss had allied with the Takewara family in the South, leading to the foundation of the Fourth Dynasty, the politicking between the Dwarven clans and the Aldryn, leading to the Dwarven colonization of the Ring Islands, and how the Elowyn had sanctified the northern forests to protect them from the incursion of demons and undead raised by the Crimson King’s followers. The lich’s resources had been different, and so had his tactics. There was little discussion of exactly how the church of Salistrom had finally defeated him. The Staff of Salistrom had in any case been destroyed in Exia on the Night of the Crimson Death – Hadyn had seen that himself.
The longer second part of Nortia’s text chronicled how the Crimson King’s empire had crumbled shortly after his defeat and the consequences of the war – the flourishing of the South under Takewara control, the increasing Xenophobia of many of the Dwarven clans and their subsequent withdrawal further into the mountains. She traced lingering remnants of he demon’s influence right up to her own time in this way, but Hadyn figured that it would take some fairly desperate reaching to extend evidence of that influence into the present… Except in the case of the Church of Salistrom. It was an interesting twist of fate that the group responsible for the cult’s original downfall had, three thousand years later, been the one to bring it back. Even Nortia’s was vague on the details of the split occurring at the time of her writing between its sects, the True Church and the Holy Church. Her footnotes detailed the difficulties she’d encountered accessing any church records, and an appendix chronicled the general decline in prominence of Salistrom in favour (in the North) of gods such as Esthalos, Sirian, Balint, and the newcomer, Leonidas.
So much for learning from the past. There was little there of direct use to the Loyalists. A careful reading might help trace the corruption of Salistrom’s followers, presumably from the inside, but even that had no immediate practical application that he could see. The bestiaries assigned which designated different types of demons with methods of summoning, banishing and binding, seemed a more fruitful avenue of research for both of Hadyn’s pet subjects.
When he was not reading, he spent some time investigating Abe’s extensive inventory of laboratory equipment. She had no scrying mirror, as she was not technically a wizard and could not use the spell. She possessed instead an object which Hadyn greatly coveted: a crystal ball. They were difficult to find, and cost a small fortune besides. The Loyalists didn’t have one despite their significant resources. Hadyn had been hoping to acquire one for his personal use for ages. He might have afforded one with his shares from Sterling’s company, but he’d never seen one for sale.
As with her books, Abe had given no instructions as to what part of the lab he could access, or on how to use any of her more esoteric equipment. He’d not been assigned any duties in the lab, but nothing was banned to him, and there were no further wards that he could detect that might have prevented him from using whatever he wanted.
He’d held off initially, expecting to see his patron, or captor, or teacher. For the past week he’d seen no one but servants, none of whom had answered any of his questions with more than nervous glances or apologetic bows. He’d experimented some after that, daring to clear a space for some of his own equipment. When he’d received no reprimand, he’d started examining the other resources at his disposal more carefully.
He’d finished Nortia’s book this morning, and examined some of the other texts in the afternoon, but he was sick of reading and the ball beckoned him. There was still no sign of Master Teacher Abe. Hadyn carefully tidied the library and straightened the lab, then, finally, removed the orb from its locked glass case. He’d been given a ring of keys along with the passwords to various wards when he’d been installed in the compound.
He set the orb reverently on the worktable he’d appropriated, and sat before it. He didn’t know the power of this particular device – it warranted a test on a familiar target. Lendrick warded himself against scrying, a precaution he’d picked up from Hadyn after they’d fled Exia together with the cult hot on their heels. The Half-Elf was not as powerful a wizard as himself, though they were both reckoned as High Magi. Hadyn was closer to advancement than his friend, but still had a hard time penetrating Lendrick’s wards on his own.
Operating the device required intense concentration, and Hadyn focused his mind on thoughts and memories of his friend as he began the incantations. This test would be a lengthy process, but it was important. First he needed to tune the crystal’s energies to himself, and force its inherent magic to awaken the same way he would force his own power through a mirror. Scrying through a ball wasn’t any faster, but the items often had other properties that could not be achieved with spells.
An hour later, a hazy image swam into view, and crystallized suddenly as the sphere’s power overwhelmed Lendrick’s ward. There he was in the ruins of the walled courtyard in Fort Cedric under the shade of a large tree, looking up at Sithra arching her naked back towards him as –
Disgusted, Hadyn looked away. It was the middle of the afternoon! Among the many things in the world he had no need or desire to lay eyes on, Lendrick having his way with his little trollop ranked quite high. At least he’d proved the power of the orb, even if he hadn’t had a chance to see what all it could do. That could come later.
He considered potential targets, his thoughts turning to a house he hadn’t seen in years. Was it safe? Did the building even still exist, or had it been replaced with something less tainted by death? What would there be to see, or to gain by looking? Nothing, and yet he couldn’t dismiss the idea.
He could have tried this before with the mirror I the Loyalist compound in Shinkyo, but he’d never felt fully assured of his privacy there. His situation now was different – he knew he’d never have his secrets respected despite his wishes or efforts. It rankled, and disturbed him deeply, but there would be no choice. The freedoms he seemed to have been given were just a trick, but the temptations lain in front of him now whispered that he may as well indulge his curiosity, no matter how morbid, while he had the chance.
Hadyn once again concentrated on the sphere, focusing his will. It didn’t matter that he’d just used it – the orb needed to be tuned with each use. Another hour passed as he forced the magic to see beyond Keth and through the distant planes to his home. It was a difficult prospect, and at first the view presented was unfocused. He realized he was holding his breath, and as he exhaled the image slowly crystallized.
The orb showed a corridor - the one leading to his father’s workroom. The door was open and the glyphs of warding had been removed. He’d spent hours in that room, reading off-limits books about different types of magic when his parents were away, or assisting his father with various projects when they were home. The door had never been left then as it was now – casually ajar. He reoriented his view to look the other way. To his left was the door to his mother’s even more foreboding study. Trophies taken from hunts against the enemies of their people – the Illithid, Githyanki, the Slaad – were displayed on the walls with grisly pride. He could bring instantly to mind the smell of the temple incense she burned to clarify her mind and center herself. He’d never come across anything like it on Keth, though he’d looked.
Now the room was occupied by two young girls seated on low benches, sewing and talking together. A simple woven tapestry of detached geometric shapes hung on the wall behind them. The girls were oblivious to their observer.
It should have been enough. Strangers lived here now. The house still stood, but it had changed. He felt empty, but even as he pressed on through the house, no epiphanies presented themselves. His family’s life here had been erased, just as they had been themselves. He withdrew from the vision feeling unsatisfied and lonely.
