Popular Post Wes Greaves Posted May 6, 2021 Popular Post Share Posted May 6, 2021 I was rereading this JP this morning while updating the Thor's mission summary, and man, this is just so elegantly written. I LOVE the sheer amount of lore and build up that is done in this two parter. @Alieth and @Brutus did such and amazing job with developing the kingdom of Calabrum in such few words. The stink of @Geoffrey Teller is all over this thing too. And that ending... I missed it the first time around, but way to tie everything back to the Thor at the end. I consistently stand in awe at the writers around me. Bravo you two. Quote ((The Seat of Queens, Calabrum)) Far Below the Sundered Mountain there were dark places no man or beast would dare to tread. Within them, something which had long slumbered was awakening, or so the people of the land did fear. It shook their homes with dread tremors, toppling farms and terrifying livestock. Rivers briefly reversed their course and acrid fumes belched forth from the peak, a certain and grim omen of coming destruction. Rumor in the lowlands was flying, with panic’d people flocking towards the imagined safety of the castle walls in numbers too great for them to accommodate. Camps had formed along the outer walls where the terrified huddled under the stone easements, desperate for a protection that did not exist. When the rumbling came again and the tricolored flags of Calabrum snapped and fluttered without a breeze, the people cried out. From her throne, the famed Seat of Queens, Arta du Pendragon could hear their cries clearly, as she had for weeks now. She had dispatched her finest and bravest knights from the Crimson order and had been in deep consultation with the Azure order of wizards, but no solution or even cause had yet been found for the calamity. All that was known was the sky had darkened, and the quakes had grown stronger, and the fumes were poisoning the land. As she had so often in the last few days, Arta rose to her feet and let her footsteps sweep around the circular chamber, from the high podium to the large rectangular windows that overlooked half the courtyard. There, laid the seats of the Cox and the Navigator, the crimson knights that faced towards the people, not to the royal throne. She herself had been the Navigator Knight many years ago, before she was elected to the Throne, but still, her gaze had never strayed from that window. Looking at her fellow townsfolk, not at the centre of power in the kingdom. Now they suffered, and she was unable to distance the kingdom from that which threatened their lives. Their options were dwindling and the days slipped through her fingers, leading them all on a course leading to disaster. She had to do something. Soon. Behind her, the broad red wooden doors swung wide open, ushering in a peculiar figure, a remnant from the time of legends, a man with elven blood and the wisdom that only centuries and magic could bestow. du Pendragon: Velik, I longed for your presence, and for your guidance. He was old. Old in a way that none else in the Order of Crimson Knights could claim, nor even the Azure Wizards, among whom he had first taught, many moons before. Age bore upon his brow, and yet, the shaggy eyebrows still swept up, in a fashion no other in the Kingdom could readly claim. Coming to a stop, he reached up, and eased the hood back, long, white hair cascading down to his shoulders. One of the wizened brows arched up his forehead, and the ghost of a smile flickered across his craggy face. Velik: As I have often stated in the past, it is unwise to ...trouble the wise. You have called. I have come. She let a faint smile light up her features, though it never reached her eyes. du Pendragon: You have seen the signs, the great harm that looms over our people. I have consulted the Order of Azure, the wizards and the alchemists for its nature, but they have offered me only riddles and prescriptions and no answers. I have sent Crimson Knights and none have returned to tell us the result of their enquiries. What would you do, O wise one, to fight the evil that lurks our kinsmen? Velik: (Looking out the square window) There is naught that we can do with ease. I no longer possess the ...magics needed to quell such phenomenon. The path before you is treacherous. Hope, yes, there is hope, but it is faint. ::He stilled, becoming as unmoving as the stations of stone surrounding them.:: A call to the stars. du Pendragon: Those are just old wives' tales, fairy tales, fables and myths. I’ve people scared and dying, old man. I need solutions. A scowl crossed his face and he gave a snort. For a moment he looked over his shoulder, and gave a terse nod. Velik: Yes indeed. Petulant though she may be, she is right. They are dying. :: He faced her again.:: Do not think I suggest it lightly, child. They may not answer. They did not in the past. But many years have passed. Perhaps...perhaps there is something there we can leverage. If not help, knowledge. The words seemed to pain him to suggest, as if some inner turmoil ate at him from within. With pursed lips, he made his way past her, gripping the staff of his station. Rags of golden velour peeked out from the ancient’s robes, bedecked with flowing, elven script, as he moved past her, to stare out at the Kingdom below. Unconsciously, the Queen raised her hand to the chest and traced the black symbol embroidered on her golden regalia. The symbol of her Royal Rank, her Duty and her Right: a stylized star that pointed to the sky, like the meteor that had fallen from the firmament above and beyond the Outrigger’s Stones. du Pendragon: To the stars? To the Elders? Peasants pray to them each and every day, and I've never heard them answer, are you suggesting...? This time she turned to look at him. The aged face hadn't altered one iota, the same aquiline profile, the same elfin ears sticking out amidst the strands of off-white hair. Nothing seemed to have modified his appearance, no more than the usual mad shine in his eyes. Velik: ‘For when Pandora had opened her box, and seen what she had unleashed upon the world, sickness. Death, and untold horrors, she rushed to close the lid once more. For all the things that mortals lacked, hope alone remained.’ As cryptic an answer as ever, and quoting the old poem seemed to give the Wizard some private sense of satisfaction. His shoulders seemed to bleed off tension in that moment, and he turned his head up to the stars, offering up another parable, one that the Queen would recognize. One that all who went through the trials of KnightHood would understand.. Velik: Ex astris, scientia.::He turned again to face her.:: Did you think it but words to soothe the soul, or aspire to? he frowned and turned her gaze back to the square window. This time, however, her eyes looked more to the heights than to the skyline of the city rooftops. Beyond the rolling hills and the woodlands, past the dark clouds and the dusky fumes rising from the land, to the sky that wrapped her country and beyond. du Pendragon: ::muttering::“From the stars, knowledge” ::She chuckled softly.:: I've always thought that this phrase urged us to look forward, to clear away the mystery of legend and focus on seeking the truth of knowledge. To become the best version of ourselves, through wisdom. Her gaze returned to the wrinkled, eccentric man with elvish features. du Pendragon: And you suggest that to do so, I should embrace legends of the dark ages. Nevertheless, Master of Sorcery, I have little other choice. If saving our people requires descending into obscurantism and folklore to seek out knowledge, I will do so. Tell me, Wise Man, what shall be the next step? Velik: Step. Yes, exactly that. She speaks of wisdom beyond her years. ::Only then did he turn his gaze to her.:: To the old grounds. I have not been there in many seasons, and yet, that is where we must go. Despite her years, her eyes widened in surprise. du Pendragon: But what about the 'klings? They are not legends, they chased our people for eons before they reached this safe harbour and even today they destroy all who approach the forbidden zone, what good can I do my people if I die and never make it there? Velik: Do you think I give this council lightly? ::A stern, sharp note folded into his expression, as if the wizened old mage was suddenly somehow more present.:: How many of your predecessors I counciled against the ascent, hmmm? Yet the logic of the moment is undeniable. The needs of the many ::Here he paused, to gesture to the open window, the fields and buildings beyond.:: Out weight the needs of the few. ::He drove a bony finger at her.:: Or the one. She bit her lip and looked out of the window again. The sun had reached its zenith. Cattle mooed somewhere beyond the parade ground. The air brought the smell of scorched crops and sulphur. du Pendragon: I shall do so. With her decision made, a few words to her majordomo set things in motion. Her mount was prepared in the stables by the time she had changed into clothes more befitting the ruins. ((Two Hours Later, Highsun, Among the Outrigger Stones)) As a child she had visited this sacred place, a yearly pilgrimage by the royal court to the original seat of the Kingdom. She played among the strange monolithic plinths, harder than any stone or metal castle forged, with wonder and delight. Now, she came to this place in desperation. The entrance, known only to the royal family, was well disguised behind a rockface but slid aside smoothly when her hand touched the proper glyphs. She had never before stepped inside. To her knowledge, none had since the first Queen, over one hundred and fifty years ago. She gave a small sigh and let her hand descend to the pommel of her sword. That made her feel more confident, as did the presence of the ancient talismans that had been given to her: the tri-corner and the phalasador, the medallion badge and the messenger. All of them hung around her girdle, ancient as the land itself, chained to her with spells and incantations. If the Wise Man was right, they would protect her. If not, they would be a burden that would slow down her efforts. And so, she went into the antique vaults. Strange, ancient magics permeate the ruins, the air seemingly crisp, always moving, the corridors, slightly lit, pulsing with eldritch energies beyond the ken of mere mortal. There were marks on the walls, eerie lights beckoning her on her path, spirits from the past humming in forgotten tongues and guiding her deeper and deeper into the labyrinth towards the red doors of the First Chamber. The huge doors opened in front of her, once red, now chipped and rusted, immortelle and mossgreen drawing a strange tapestry across their surface. As soon as they did, the Chamber lit up before her, magic buzzing in every wall and surface. The air had a peculiar smell, stagnant and dusty and yet clean, unspoiled, like something that had never been touched by sin. Arta clenched her jaw and moved towards the centre of the hall, a chamber in whose image and likeness the Seat of Queens had been built. In spite of the centuries, next to the throne, she could still discern the first queen's blood, the blood she had spilled as the ultimate toll that she had paid to save her people from the threat of the 'klings, her ultimate sacrifice. Arta's pale eyes remained transfixed on that stain, to them more around that familiar yet distinct hall, as her mind pondered on the duty that both real woman and legend shared: save their people. At last, she slid onto the throne, rested her arms on its sides and her hands laid over the glow of the ancient runes. Slowly, determinedly, her fingers repeated the lines of the incantation she had been taught, the secret knowledge that Velik has taught her. As she completed it, the ancient ruins seemed to hold their breath, like a lurking animal waiting for a sign to pounce. Only then, she straightened up in the chair and uttered the secret name, the ancient knowledge that had been passed from one queen to another on her deathbed, uninterrupted since the first one. du Pendragon: Excalibur. I need you. Suddenly the room sprang to life, of colours and glowing and sounds beyond description. Outside, a beam of octarine light broke through the clouds and streaked beyond the astral spheres, in search of the only thing that could help them. A Deity. [[END]] As simmed by: Velik Reluctant High Wizard and General Recluse Calabrum T239712JS0 & Arta du Pendragon, Heart of Gold, first of her name. Queen of Calabrum Calabrum E239702A10 & Kindred Spirit Deus ex machina and logistic support Calabrum V239509GT0 3 2 Quote Link to comment
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