Whispers in the Deep - Igrainne and JJFWXVI
Apr 11, 2020 7:41:42 GMT
Igrainne (RETIRED) and Merla, the Daughter of Summer like this
Post by JJFWXVI on Apr 11, 2020 7:41:42 GMT
23rd Ches, 1497
“So… uhm…” Mel fidgets. “I really have to go back to Daring Heights like, now? There’s someone much scarier than tattooed bald elves with sharp teeth awaiting me if I don’t get there soon. Anyone coming back?!”
Igrainne nods. “I’m escorting the, uhh, archee...archae-o-lo-gist back to the academy. We should journey together,” she says, casting a worried glance over her shoulder at Bubbles.
“Ohhhh yeaaah… what was that thing about water in your ears?! Was she actually suggesting you…” - Mel lowers her voice and gets closer to Igrainne, speaking in a hushed tone - “... y’know, kill the scholar?!”
The half-drow opens her mouth to answer when suddenly, JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI topples sideways out of the saddle he is sharing with Eloise. As he slams into the ground, the yellow orb they had recovered from the temple bounces out of his hands and rolls across the earth. Igrainne calls out his name and jumps off her horse.
As the half-elf reaches his side, his eyes are already starting to flutter open. Gingerly, the gnome sits up, one hand pressed to his temple. “Well, that was unexpected…”
He climbs to his feet, swaying slightly as he holds onto Igrainne’s arm.
“I’ve never encountered anything like that before. I couldn’t even identify what sort of magic is infused within. Something kicked me out pretty sharpish.” He looks at Eloise, nodding slowly. “We were right about one thing, though: whatever we’re dealing with is ancient.” He strokes his white beard. “And I don’t mean old like I’m old. I mean prehistoric.” JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI’s evident excitement at the prospect is matched only by the alarm writ large across his tiny features. “Let’s give this thing some proper study when we get back to Daring.”
Melissa looks around in confusion “Sorry, Mr. JonJon, do you mean Miss Eloise will study it properly? It’s her finding after all, no?”
“Why not both? Mister Windlepoon and Mistress Danforth can study it together at the academy,” Igrainne chimes in. “But, as of now, you don’t know what it does?”
“Nothing specific, I’m afraid.” The gnome replies regretfully. “It definitely feels connected to a greater whole; that there are maybe more artefacts like this out there. And that together they can control… something. The scale of the magic is daunting. Sorry, that is all I can tell right now.” JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI’s usually genial features crease with a momentary look of frustration, before brightening again. “But you are right, Ms Igrainne - maybe Mistress Danforth would permit me to join her in studying it further back in Daring. I’ll ask her.”
Igrainne nods slowly. She lifts JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI by the underarms and puts him back into Eloise’s empty saddle, the Darite having walked over to discuss last-minute matters with the rest of the party. “Maybe it can control the sea, or a part of it? Whatever it does, it’s certainly powerful enough to draw the sahuagin to the surface and catch the attention of...other parties…”
After climbing up her own mount, she looks at Mel and the deep gnome with pleading eyes. “You guys believe me, right? When I said Bubbles asked me to kill Eloise? I would never have said it if I wasn’t sure!” she whispers.
JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI exchanges a glance with Mel before looking back at Igrainne. “I can’t say I heard her say anything like that myself, but her attitude was off. And conjuring that daemon… well… helpful it might have been; reassuring it certainly ain’t! When did she suggest you ki-” He looks over at the archaeologist and lowers his voice. “When did she suggest you do that? While we were fighting the elf and his minions?”
“Right after that, when we were tying him up and you lot were looking at the stone. Her voice sounded in my head, so...casually talking about murder.” The ranger shakes her head. “I went adventuring with her once or twice before I left. She didn’t used to be this cold. Or maybe she’s always been like this, and I just never knew…”
24th Ches, 1497
JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI raps smartly on the imposing doors to the Temple of Selûne, trying to smooth down his wiry, erratic hair and brush away some of the more obvious lint on his clothing.
Nodding his thanks to the attendant holding the door open, JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI steps inside and is led halfway down the nave to where Igrainne is waiting.
“Good morning!” JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI says brightly, looking around. “Mel not joining us?”
Igrainne, who had been lying down on one of the pews, sits up to face him. “G’morning, Mr. Windlepoon,” she replies, chewing on an apple. “Mel’s busy getting lectured by the High Diviner. Any news?”
“Oh yes, indeed!” The gnome’s eyes light up at the question. “Mistress Danforth and I made great headway over night. Well, not strictly during the night… Look, I’ll show you!” JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI leads Igrainne over to a patch of sunlight streaming in through one of the stained glass windows set into the walls.
Lifting up the orb they had recovered from the temple under the cliffs so it catches the light, the pair watch as the sphere begins to glow gently. Bathed in the sun, the stylised waves engraved into its surface start to move, flowing over the stone as three points of deep blue light shine out, each falling at a different point on the ground. JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI slowly rotates the stone left and right, and the points of light shift in concert with movements, similar to the way the needle of a compass alters when turned.
The half-drow’s eyes widen at the enchanting display. “Whoa...so it’s activated by sunlight? What do the lights mean? Do they point at something, like a compass?”
The gnome nods excitedly. “Very good, very quick! It took the esteemed Mistress Danforth and I a while to work that out. It was purely by chance that we figured it out. We were making our way across Portal Plaza to pick up a spot of breakfast at the Ettin when we were accosted by a fellow I know, Billy Bumblewotsit - a lovely chap, I don’t know if you’ve met him? - anyway, he asked if I was aware my bag was glowing! We had no idea what it meant, of course, until Billy left us to it with a shake of his head saying ‘won’t lead to nothing good, mark my words’ - and that’s when we realised! The blue beams might lead to something! Or maybe three somethings! See” and he points to where the three points of blue light are emerging from individual grooves in the stone, apertures that look like they might be designed to hold something in them. “I reckon there’s three more pieces of this… whatever it is.” He looks up excitedly at the half-elf.
“Hmm…” She rubs her chin thoughtfully. “So there are other parts to this thing. I wonder if that bald elf’s friends have found it? We ought to keep our eyes peeled for more caves and temples like the one we found by the cliffs. Do you know who made these things, by the way? Angels? Some other kind of Celestial being?”
JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI shakes his head ruefully, a look of frustration creasing his otherwise-genial features into a frown. “I’m afraid that’s where I draw a blank. Whoever or whatever made this is ancient. Truly ancient. And I know my history. What makes you think angels?”
“‘Cause the riddle on the door was written in Celestial, according to Mel, plus the murals on the walls depicted battles between angels and fiends. And, well, I’ve seen magical items that were laced with fiendish influence, and this doesn’t look anything like them. In fact, I don’t sense anything malicious from it.” She shrugs. “It could be some other race, sure. But I don’t know. History isn’t really my forte.”
“You might be right, you might be right. But remember ‘Jala cahallin xal tlu elg'cahlin’* - appearances can be deceiving. And that crazed elf was banging on about ‘The Deep One’, whoever that is.” The diminutive figure frowns again, tapping his foot against the flagstones in thought. “I think we can agree it’s too important for us to keep to ourselves, yes? You know this town better than I; is there anyone we can take this matter to?”
Igrainne cracks a smile. “My grandmother loves that proverb,” she says in Drowic, before switching back to Common. “I’m guessing Mistress Danforth would take this matter to Aurelia herself...but the High Diviner of this temple, Rholor, he’s a big ol’ bookworm. He might know a thing or two...”
“Well, ‘Ilharessen zhaunil alurl’** as I’m sure your granny would also say!” JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI grins and tucks the orb back into his satchel, before gesturing around at the interior of the temple. “I have nothing else to do today - so lead on!”
“Oh!” Igrainne seems a bit surprised and looks around for the way to Rholor’s office. “Um, why not, sure! Let’s go!”
(Igrainne (RETIRED) ...... and Melissa Jundor....)
*Any food may be poison - Drow proverb
**Matrons know best - Drow proverb
“So… uhm…” Mel fidgets. “I really have to go back to Daring Heights like, now? There’s someone much scarier than tattooed bald elves with sharp teeth awaiting me if I don’t get there soon. Anyone coming back?!”
Igrainne nods. “I’m escorting the, uhh, archee...archae-o-lo-gist back to the academy. We should journey together,” she says, casting a worried glance over her shoulder at Bubbles.
“Ohhhh yeaaah… what was that thing about water in your ears?! Was she actually suggesting you…” - Mel lowers her voice and gets closer to Igrainne, speaking in a hushed tone - “... y’know, kill the scholar?!”
The half-drow opens her mouth to answer when suddenly, JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI topples sideways out of the saddle he is sharing with Eloise. As he slams into the ground, the yellow orb they had recovered from the temple bounces out of his hands and rolls across the earth. Igrainne calls out his name and jumps off her horse.
As the half-elf reaches his side, his eyes are already starting to flutter open. Gingerly, the gnome sits up, one hand pressed to his temple. “Well, that was unexpected…”
He climbs to his feet, swaying slightly as he holds onto Igrainne’s arm.
“I’ve never encountered anything like that before. I couldn’t even identify what sort of magic is infused within. Something kicked me out pretty sharpish.” He looks at Eloise, nodding slowly. “We were right about one thing, though: whatever we’re dealing with is ancient.” He strokes his white beard. “And I don’t mean old like I’m old. I mean prehistoric.” JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI’s evident excitement at the prospect is matched only by the alarm writ large across his tiny features. “Let’s give this thing some proper study when we get back to Daring.”
Melissa looks around in confusion “Sorry, Mr. JonJon, do you mean Miss Eloise will study it properly? It’s her finding after all, no?”
“Why not both? Mister Windlepoon and Mistress Danforth can study it together at the academy,” Igrainne chimes in. “But, as of now, you don’t know what it does?”
“Nothing specific, I’m afraid.” The gnome replies regretfully. “It definitely feels connected to a greater whole; that there are maybe more artefacts like this out there. And that together they can control… something. The scale of the magic is daunting. Sorry, that is all I can tell right now.” JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI’s usually genial features crease with a momentary look of frustration, before brightening again. “But you are right, Ms Igrainne - maybe Mistress Danforth would permit me to join her in studying it further back in Daring. I’ll ask her.”
Igrainne nods slowly. She lifts JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI by the underarms and puts him back into Eloise’s empty saddle, the Darite having walked over to discuss last-minute matters with the rest of the party. “Maybe it can control the sea, or a part of it? Whatever it does, it’s certainly powerful enough to draw the sahuagin to the surface and catch the attention of...other parties…”
After climbing up her own mount, she looks at Mel and the deep gnome with pleading eyes. “You guys believe me, right? When I said Bubbles asked me to kill Eloise? I would never have said it if I wasn’t sure!” she whispers.
JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI exchanges a glance with Mel before looking back at Igrainne. “I can’t say I heard her say anything like that myself, but her attitude was off. And conjuring that daemon… well… helpful it might have been; reassuring it certainly ain’t! When did she suggest you ki-” He looks over at the archaeologist and lowers his voice. “When did she suggest you do that? While we were fighting the elf and his minions?”
“Right after that, when we were tying him up and you lot were looking at the stone. Her voice sounded in my head, so...casually talking about murder.” The ranger shakes her head. “I went adventuring with her once or twice before I left. She didn’t used to be this cold. Or maybe she’s always been like this, and I just never knew…”
24th Ches, 1497
JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI raps smartly on the imposing doors to the Temple of Selûne, trying to smooth down his wiry, erratic hair and brush away some of the more obvious lint on his clothing.
Nodding his thanks to the attendant holding the door open, JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI steps inside and is led halfway down the nave to where Igrainne is waiting.
“Good morning!” JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI says brightly, looking around. “Mel not joining us?”
Igrainne, who had been lying down on one of the pews, sits up to face him. “G’morning, Mr. Windlepoon,” she replies, chewing on an apple. “Mel’s busy getting lectured by the High Diviner. Any news?”
“Oh yes, indeed!” The gnome’s eyes light up at the question. “Mistress Danforth and I made great headway over night. Well, not strictly during the night… Look, I’ll show you!” JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI leads Igrainne over to a patch of sunlight streaming in through one of the stained glass windows set into the walls.
Lifting up the orb they had recovered from the temple under the cliffs so it catches the light, the pair watch as the sphere begins to glow gently. Bathed in the sun, the stylised waves engraved into its surface start to move, flowing over the stone as three points of deep blue light shine out, each falling at a different point on the ground. JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI slowly rotates the stone left and right, and the points of light shift in concert with movements, similar to the way the needle of a compass alters when turned.
The half-drow’s eyes widen at the enchanting display. “Whoa...so it’s activated by sunlight? What do the lights mean? Do they point at something, like a compass?”
The gnome nods excitedly. “Very good, very quick! It took the esteemed Mistress Danforth and I a while to work that out. It was purely by chance that we figured it out. We were making our way across Portal Plaza to pick up a spot of breakfast at the Ettin when we were accosted by a fellow I know, Billy Bumblewotsit - a lovely chap, I don’t know if you’ve met him? - anyway, he asked if I was aware my bag was glowing! We had no idea what it meant, of course, until Billy left us to it with a shake of his head saying ‘won’t lead to nothing good, mark my words’ - and that’s when we realised! The blue beams might lead to something! Or maybe three somethings! See” and he points to where the three points of blue light are emerging from individual grooves in the stone, apertures that look like they might be designed to hold something in them. “I reckon there’s three more pieces of this… whatever it is.” He looks up excitedly at the half-elf.
“Hmm…” She rubs her chin thoughtfully. “So there are other parts to this thing. I wonder if that bald elf’s friends have found it? We ought to keep our eyes peeled for more caves and temples like the one we found by the cliffs. Do you know who made these things, by the way? Angels? Some other kind of Celestial being?”
JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI shakes his head ruefully, a look of frustration creasing his otherwise-genial features into a frown. “I’m afraid that’s where I draw a blank. Whoever or whatever made this is ancient. Truly ancient. And I know my history. What makes you think angels?”
“‘Cause the riddle on the door was written in Celestial, according to Mel, plus the murals on the walls depicted battles between angels and fiends. And, well, I’ve seen magical items that were laced with fiendish influence, and this doesn’t look anything like them. In fact, I don’t sense anything malicious from it.” She shrugs. “It could be some other race, sure. But I don’t know. History isn’t really my forte.”
“You might be right, you might be right. But remember ‘Jala cahallin xal tlu elg'cahlin’* - appearances can be deceiving. And that crazed elf was banging on about ‘The Deep One’, whoever that is.” The diminutive figure frowns again, tapping his foot against the flagstones in thought. “I think we can agree it’s too important for us to keep to ourselves, yes? You know this town better than I; is there anyone we can take this matter to?”
Igrainne cracks a smile. “My grandmother loves that proverb,” she says in Drowic, before switching back to Common. “I’m guessing Mistress Danforth would take this matter to Aurelia herself...but the High Diviner of this temple, Rholor, he’s a big ol’ bookworm. He might know a thing or two...”
“Well, ‘Ilharessen zhaunil alurl’** as I’m sure your granny would also say!” JonathanJonathan Fortesque Windlepoon XVI grins and tucks the orb back into his satchel, before gesturing around at the interior of the temple. “I have nothing else to do today - so lead on!”
“Oh!” Igrainne seems a bit surprised and looks around for the way to Rholor’s office. “Um, why not, sure! Let’s go!”
(Igrainne (RETIRED) ...... and Melissa Jundor....)
*Any food may be poison - Drow proverb
**Matrons know best - Drow proverb
