Beneath the Surface – Orianna Èirigh – 12.05.2022
May 17, 2022 18:09:41 GMT
Jaezred Vandree, Velania Kalugina, and 2 more like this
Post by Orianna Èirigh on May 17, 2022 18:09:41 GMT
The drow lord has his jacket off, sleeves rolled up, and a slight, sly smile lifting one corner of his lips. He had procured the ingredients for the cocktails from the Fort’s kitchens and was in the midst of adding the elderflower cordial to the mixer. Orianna’s lays forgotten on the table – her current read the different gestures by region and language for sign language, extra study Oriloki encouraged her to read up on which she found interesting, but not so much as to keep her attention off of the practised and precise hand movements of an elven master at work.
Putting the lid on the mixer, the drow lord picks it up and begins to shake it back and forth. It is quite the view, watching him move and sway to the short, quick sounds he creates.
“A master at work…” she mutters under her breath.
To her utter surprise he winks at her. It is too much. Orianna blushes and buries her nose into her book.
Served alongside some fruits – oranges, melons, and kiwis – Lord Vandree presents the Elderflower Cocktail to Orianna with a tasteful flourish. She thanks him and before she can hold it back she is already asking where he got his passion for cooking.
“I was born with refined tastes,” he says, “and I started out more as a critic than a cook. I only seriously dove into learning in order to cook for my partner.”
Of course he already has a partner.
“How fortunate they are to have such a fastidious and dedicated chef,” Orianna compliments. “As a lord you must have sampled many cuisines over the course of your travels.”
Lord Vandree smiles a self-satisfied grin. “Why yes. I have travelled up and down the Sword Coast and tried a variety of foods. What about yourself? I do not recognise your accent. Did you travel here to the Dawnlands to work for the Stars and Skies Department of the Academy?”
Orianna blinks, a little confused. “I…” Did she mention she was from the Academy? She was sure she didn’t, though her dress, more like a uniform of a scholar, could be an indication of her profession. He is still waiting for an answer. Any longer of a pause and he might think there’s something wrong…
She smiles. “I saw the uniqueness of the Academy and thought my skills might help a department that recently lost a valued senior member of their staff. Fortuitous timing, one might say.”
She takes a sip of her cocktail. It is really good.
“And you, my lord — do your interests extend to ancient history of the realms? Or is this something to keep you busy between hobbies?”
“Ancient history? When it’s relevant. I’m doing this as a favour to my partner, but I’ll explain more in the briefing when the others arrive.”
The tiefling tips her head, trying to get a read on him but coming up short. She instead goes with a response she’s been told time and time again by her own father.
“It is always relevant, if we are to ever learn from our ancestors and not repeat the same mistakes,” Orianna says, her eyes shimmering a little with starlight. Then she smiles.
OBSERVATIONS & EXCERPTS from the JOURNAL of SECOND ASSISTANT ARCHIVIST ORIANNA ÈIRIGH of ASHKHA
It was my first time at the dusky pink fortress called Fort Ettin. A place full of what the scholars at the Academy call ‘adventurers’. I can see the appeal for those who seek adventure for adventure’s sake, who are looking to make a name for themselves to live in the central hub that serves as both home and work space. But it’s not for me.
It was nice to see Toothy again since the last time we spoke was upon our return to Daring Heights after our disastrous mission to Gadenthor. It seems the threat is growing more serious by the day — numerous people from a desert metropolis called Kundar have recently sought refuge in Daring. The city is so big that a few more dragonborn and kobolds make not much of a difference but, still, I had to search amongst them to see if I could find my fathers. But nothing. No word. No recognition. Perhaps one day soon I will go to their great library to find them there…
I was so surprised to see him there. I’d seen him at the Academy a few times, pockets stuffed with papers, ink staining his cuffs and fingertips, the tired dishevelled look of someone who’s spent more time amongst tomes than trees. I didn’t know his name, but he seemed so quiet and, well, sad. I wanted to say something but he was always so absorbed in what he was studying, maps I believe. But today, when he entered the Fort carrying shovels, trailing notes and pieces of parchment in his wake, I nearly choked on the drink Lord Vandree had made me. That’s when I noticed it. The silvery bow. So beautiful and bright with strange markings in a style I’ve never seen. I wonder if I’ll get a chance to speak to him properly…
For all he apparently knew about me Lord Vandree knew the people of the Witching Court a lot more. He was welcomed like a citizen, which makes sense, since he said the task for today was to help his partner, who is also more than likely from here. There were no strange travels through mists this time, just simple arcane teleportation from the Mountain Palace to our destination of the Anuhlin Shambles.
I wasn’t as surprised to see the ruins repurposed by the denizens who lived there. It is exactly how… that place… is as well.Again, I cannot write it or hardly think about it without my brain going fuzzy — so frustrating! What did catch our attention was how quiet it was. Too quiet.
Lord Vandree had explained that he knew about the mysterious stones, the same ones Florian and I had come across when we had come to the Witching Court last time. I decided it would be best to be able to see what magic might be lingering in the air and land as last time there were telltale signs of necromancy. It was there again this time, but as more of an aura. So strange. I think it was what was making me so tired, yawning like a child going on an unwelcome field excursion…
One of the few elven residents of the Shambles was able to give us a lead — the home of an amateur scholar named Omaric. Gerhard helped me when I was scanning through the high elf’s modest collection of tomes on history and magical items. Quite a lacklustre collection, but together with the journal Lord Jaezred found it spells an unfortunate end to a curious mind. He seemed to be searching for rumours about hidden vaults under the ruins of the castle he and the town lived in, but was never able to quite find a solid lead. Some other notable highlights are:
Copied verbatim are snippets from what is labelled as Excerpts from Omaric’s Journal
This woman in blue, is she some sort of necromancer? Apparently Florian had seen another woman in blue the other week in Daring Heights, raising dead and causing havoc. Nim would not stand for any of this…
Orianna is thumbing through one of Omeric’s books — one that reads more like a fairytale about super powerful magical artefacts of the Feywild — when she hears Gerhard mention to Lord Vandree he is going outside to have a more thorough look at the ruins. Quickly snapping the book shut, a puff of dust going into her face, the tiefling follows him outside.
She observes him for a little bit, trying to determine something of the ruins and what it could have been before time took its toll on the structure. Even here in the Wilds of the Faen Realms time moves on, just like the Material Plane. Something catches her eye though, a plaque with writing.
“This place was built for defence, once upon a time,” Gerhard says from beside her. She gives a little start for not noticing him and she blushes.
“Oh?”
Gerhard nods. “It’s hard to tell who built it but since it’s in the Feywild my first guess would be elves.”
“Hmm,” Orianna agrees. She looks back at the plaque, recalling the lack of history books in Omeric’s collection. “The two best places to find out for sure would either be here,” she gestures, indicating the whole of the Anuhlin Shambles, “possibly one of the other residences has a better collection than the missing would-be scholar. Or the Mountain Palace.” She smiles at Gerhard, but then turns away embarrassed. “But you probably had already thought of that.”
“Ah, well, I’m more of an archeologist than a scholar…”
Orianna’s eyes light up. “That explains it. You seem to know a lot about historical sites and how to read ruins. Have you been to many? Which is your favourite you’ve been to?”
“A few!” Gerhard says, lighting up a little. The quiet sadness momentarily disappears from his eyes at Orianna’s questions. “I used to travel around Faerûn and unearth old ruins. Usually some farmer that got his hoe stuck on a rock and wanted to see if there was anything good. I think my favourite was…” He pauses to yawn. “Ah, excuse me… There was this one, a stone circle. Pretty simple, but it was summer, and the work was easy.”
Her interest is instantly piqued. “What was special about the stone circle?”
“Nothing much, it was just in good condition. You could even make out some of the pigment on the runic inscriptions!”
Seeing Gerhard speak like he did about the work he’s done really tickled Orianna’s heartstrings. “It is quite amazing that it was in good condition. Were you able to determine the origins of the ruins? Were they elven? Draconic? Giant?”
“It’s always tricky to tell. It was sort of like here, actually. I think the original builders were elves, but then some time after they abandoned it some human druids must have taken it up. You could see where some of the rock was from different places.”
The similarities between what Gerhard is describing and Orianna’s home hit her rather unexpectedly. No one knows who built it but the people who came to live there found it in pristine condition. She wants to ask more but the others are already starting to wiggle their way into the crawlspace behind the smithy — the location Omeric went to but never returned from.
“We should probably-” Orianna gestures at their companions. “But I’d love to talk more about where you’ve been, and these ruins, and what you discovered. It sounds really fascinating.”
“Hmm? Oh, right. Yes!”
Nim would have been furious at the way the dead were desecrated in that place. Even I felt sick. Bodies reanimated and cut to pieces, souls pulled from the River to do the necromancer’s bidding. I hoped and dreaded what we would find beyond the warded door…
We did not find the necromancer. Instead we found her creation and a crystal tethering a portal to a demi-plane of unknown scope. I summoned a Child of the Sky to go through and see what was beyond the portal — my small way of holding Gerhard back from going through himself into reckless unknown. Why would he risk himself for such an unknown?
When the Child returned they said beyond was endless black that stretched on into infinity, with only two sources of light: the portal from whence it came, and another crystal like the one in the tomb we were in, also flickering. These crystals were connected, that much was certain, and like the first time I came across them, the one on our side had been sucking the energy of the area and feeding it into the portal. But the connection is gone, severed, for now…
Lord Vandree was being exceptionally cagey when we returned to the Mountain Palace. When Florian and I tried to ask him if he would share the book he found he got instantly suspicious. It almost seemed that no matter how many times he or I tried to explain we only wanted to help the drow lord did not think we were either trustworthy or clever enough to play whatever game this necromancer is at.
So I decided to take matters into my own hands.
Zola’s mothers, the Coven at Haspar Knoll, showed great concern previously. They even helped us figure out the source of the corruption at the Spriteswells Depths. Sending an animal messenger to Lillian, with a tiny scroll with more written detail seemed like the right thing to do. Guess I will have to wait to see…
Orianna was just finishing her latest journal entry when a small black bird tapped on the warped glass of her window. She tilts her head and the small creature tilts its head in turn, each looking at the other curiously. It holds a single hydrangea stem in its dark beak, the flowers a soft white with flecks of pink.
Curious, she tentatively reaches out to take it, feeling like it is a gift to her. The moment she touches it the image of three witches and their little house in the woods flashes briefly in her mind, followed by an emotion – gratitude.
When she comes out of the vision the bird is already gone but Orianna still smiles, feeling pleased with the gift of thanks from Lillian and her Coven.
Thank you Jaezred Vandree for the pre-session RP🕸️
And to Gerhard for the mid-session nerd out about old things 🗿
Putting the lid on the mixer, the drow lord picks it up and begins to shake it back and forth. It is quite the view, watching him move and sway to the short, quick sounds he creates.
“A master at work…” she mutters under her breath.
To her utter surprise he winks at her. It is too much. Orianna blushes and buries her nose into her book.
Served alongside some fruits – oranges, melons, and kiwis – Lord Vandree presents the Elderflower Cocktail to Orianna with a tasteful flourish. She thanks him and before she can hold it back she is already asking where he got his passion for cooking.
“I was born with refined tastes,” he says, “and I started out more as a critic than a cook. I only seriously dove into learning in order to cook for my partner.”
Of course he already has a partner.
“How fortunate they are to have such a fastidious and dedicated chef,” Orianna compliments. “As a lord you must have sampled many cuisines over the course of your travels.”
Lord Vandree smiles a self-satisfied grin. “Why yes. I have travelled up and down the Sword Coast and tried a variety of foods. What about yourself? I do not recognise your accent. Did you travel here to the Dawnlands to work for the Stars and Skies Department of the Academy?”
Orianna blinks, a little confused. “I…” Did she mention she was from the Academy? She was sure she didn’t, though her dress, more like a uniform of a scholar, could be an indication of her profession. He is still waiting for an answer. Any longer of a pause and he might think there’s something wrong…
She smiles. “I saw the uniqueness of the Academy and thought my skills might help a department that recently lost a valued senior member of their staff. Fortuitous timing, one might say.”
She takes a sip of her cocktail. It is really good.
“And you, my lord — do your interests extend to ancient history of the realms? Or is this something to keep you busy between hobbies?”
“Ancient history? When it’s relevant. I’m doing this as a favour to my partner, but I’ll explain more in the briefing when the others arrive.”
The tiefling tips her head, trying to get a read on him but coming up short. She instead goes with a response she’s been told time and time again by her own father.
“It is always relevant, if we are to ever learn from our ancestors and not repeat the same mistakes,” Orianna says, her eyes shimmering a little with starlight. Then she smiles.
OBSERVATIONS & EXCERPTS from the JOURNAL of SECOND ASSISTANT ARCHIVIST ORIANNA ÈIRIGH of ASHKHA
It was my first time at the dusky pink fortress called Fort Ettin. A place full of what the scholars at the Academy call ‘adventurers’. I can see the appeal for those who seek adventure for adventure’s sake, who are looking to make a name for themselves to live in the central hub that serves as both home and work space. But it’s not for me.
It was nice to see Toothy again since the last time we spoke was upon our return to Daring Heights after our disastrous mission to Gadenthor. It seems the threat is growing more serious by the day — numerous people from a desert metropolis called Kundar have recently sought refuge in Daring. The city is so big that a few more dragonborn and kobolds make not much of a difference but, still, I had to search amongst them to see if I could find my fathers. But nothing. No word. No recognition. Perhaps one day soon I will go to their great library to find them there…
I was so surprised to see him there. I’d seen him at the Academy a few times, pockets stuffed with papers, ink staining his cuffs and fingertips, the tired dishevelled look of someone who’s spent more time amongst tomes than trees. I didn’t know his name, but he seemed so quiet and, well, sad. I wanted to say something but he was always so absorbed in what he was studying, maps I believe. But today, when he entered the Fort carrying shovels, trailing notes and pieces of parchment in his wake, I nearly choked on the drink Lord Vandree had made me. That’s when I noticed it. The silvery bow. So beautiful and bright with strange markings in a style I’ve never seen. I wonder if I’ll get a chance to speak to him properly…
For all he apparently knew about me Lord Vandree knew the people of the Witching Court a lot more. He was welcomed like a citizen, which makes sense, since he said the task for today was to help his partner, who is also more than likely from here. There were no strange travels through mists this time, just simple arcane teleportation from the Mountain Palace to our destination of the Anuhlin Shambles.
I wasn’t as surprised to see the ruins repurposed by the denizens who lived there. It is exactly how… that place… is as well.
Lord Vandree had explained that he knew about the mysterious stones, the same ones Florian and I had come across when we had come to the Witching Court last time. I decided it would be best to be able to see what magic might be lingering in the air and land as last time there were telltale signs of necromancy. It was there again this time, but as more of an aura. So strange. I think it was what was making me so tired, yawning like a child going on an unwelcome field excursion…
One of the few elven residents of the Shambles was able to give us a lead — the home of an amateur scholar named Omaric. Gerhard helped me when I was scanning through the high elf’s modest collection of tomes on history and magical items. Quite a lacklustre collection, but together with the journal Lord Jaezred found it spells an unfortunate end to a curious mind. He seemed to be searching for rumours about hidden vaults under the ruins of the castle he and the town lived in, but was never able to quite find a solid lead. Some other notable highlights are:
Copied verbatim are snippets from what is labelled as Excerpts from Omaric’s Journal
- Enjoyed a night walk around the ruin and graveyard
- Saw a Beautiful Human woman in town near the market, not often they get travellers through
- Winnah showing off some new spell she has learned
- Still can't find a history book about the Shambles, odd.
- Tired, working too hard.
- Familiar woman seen near the market, can’t think where I've seen her before
- Woman in Blue again.
- Quit reading early tonight, can’t concentrate - feeling very sluggish
- Woman in blue AGAIN. This time tried to speak to her but was ignored. RUDE.
- Dinner with Perler. burnt meat again. Cooking lessons needed. Actually fell asleep cooking!
- Woman seen again. Followed out the wall, behind smith but she vanished.
- FOUND IT, Scrubland behind smith, crawl space. Going in tomorrow
This woman in blue, is she some sort of necromancer? Apparently Florian had seen another woman in blue the other week in Daring Heights, raising dead and causing havoc. Nim would not stand for any of this…
Orianna is thumbing through one of Omeric’s books — one that reads more like a fairytale about super powerful magical artefacts of the Feywild — when she hears Gerhard mention to Lord Vandree he is going outside to have a more thorough look at the ruins. Quickly snapping the book shut, a puff of dust going into her face, the tiefling follows him outside.
She observes him for a little bit, trying to determine something of the ruins and what it could have been before time took its toll on the structure. Even here in the Wilds of the Faen Realms time moves on, just like the Material Plane. Something catches her eye though, a plaque with writing.
“This place was built for defence, once upon a time,” Gerhard says from beside her. She gives a little start for not noticing him and she blushes.
“Oh?”
Gerhard nods. “It’s hard to tell who built it but since it’s in the Feywild my first guess would be elves.”
“Hmm,” Orianna agrees. She looks back at the plaque, recalling the lack of history books in Omeric’s collection. “The two best places to find out for sure would either be here,” she gestures, indicating the whole of the Anuhlin Shambles, “possibly one of the other residences has a better collection than the missing would-be scholar. Or the Mountain Palace.” She smiles at Gerhard, but then turns away embarrassed. “But you probably had already thought of that.”
“Ah, well, I’m more of an archeologist than a scholar…”
Orianna’s eyes light up. “That explains it. You seem to know a lot about historical sites and how to read ruins. Have you been to many? Which is your favourite you’ve been to?”
“A few!” Gerhard says, lighting up a little. The quiet sadness momentarily disappears from his eyes at Orianna’s questions. “I used to travel around Faerûn and unearth old ruins. Usually some farmer that got his hoe stuck on a rock and wanted to see if there was anything good. I think my favourite was…” He pauses to yawn. “Ah, excuse me… There was this one, a stone circle. Pretty simple, but it was summer, and the work was easy.”
Her interest is instantly piqued. “What was special about the stone circle?”
“Nothing much, it was just in good condition. You could even make out some of the pigment on the runic inscriptions!”
Seeing Gerhard speak like he did about the work he’s done really tickled Orianna’s heartstrings. “It is quite amazing that it was in good condition. Were you able to determine the origins of the ruins? Were they elven? Draconic? Giant?”
“It’s always tricky to tell. It was sort of like here, actually. I think the original builders were elves, but then some time after they abandoned it some human druids must have taken it up. You could see where some of the rock was from different places.”
The similarities between what Gerhard is describing and Orianna’s home hit her rather unexpectedly. No one knows who built it but the people who came to live there found it in pristine condition. She wants to ask more but the others are already starting to wiggle their way into the crawlspace behind the smithy — the location Omeric went to but never returned from.
“We should probably-” Orianna gestures at their companions. “But I’d love to talk more about where you’ve been, and these ruins, and what you discovered. It sounds really fascinating.”
“Hmm? Oh, right. Yes!”
Nim would have been furious at the way the dead were desecrated in that place. Even I felt sick. Bodies reanimated and cut to pieces, souls pulled from the River to do the necromancer’s bidding. I hoped and dreaded what we would find beyond the warded door…
We did not find the necromancer. Instead we found her creation and a crystal tethering a portal to a demi-plane of unknown scope. I summoned a Child of the Sky to go through and see what was beyond the portal — my small way of holding Gerhard back from going through himself into reckless unknown. Why would he risk himself for such an unknown?
When the Child returned they said beyond was endless black that stretched on into infinity, with only two sources of light: the portal from whence it came, and another crystal like the one in the tomb we were in, also flickering. These crystals were connected, that much was certain, and like the first time I came across them, the one on our side had been sucking the energy of the area and feeding it into the portal. But the connection is gone, severed, for now…
Lord Vandree was being exceptionally cagey when we returned to the Mountain Palace. When Florian and I tried to ask him if he would share the book he found he got instantly suspicious. It almost seemed that no matter how many times he or I tried to explain we only wanted to help the drow lord did not think we were either trustworthy or clever enough to play whatever game this necromancer is at.
So I decided to take matters into my own hands.
Zola’s mothers, the Coven at Haspar Knoll, showed great concern previously. They even helped us figure out the source of the corruption at the Spriteswells Depths. Sending an animal messenger to Lillian, with a tiny scroll with more written detail seemed like the right thing to do. Guess I will have to wait to see…
Orianna was just finishing her latest journal entry when a small black bird tapped on the warped glass of her window. She tilts her head and the small creature tilts its head in turn, each looking at the other curiously. It holds a single hydrangea stem in its dark beak, the flowers a soft white with flecks of pink.
Curious, she tentatively reaches out to take it, feeling like it is a gift to her. The moment she touches it the image of three witches and their little house in the woods flashes briefly in her mind, followed by an emotion – gratitude.
When she comes out of the vision the bird is already gone but Orianna still smiles, feeling pleased with the gift of thanks from Lillian and her Coven.
Thank you Jaezred Vandree for the pre-session RP🕸️
And to Gerhard for the mid-session nerd out about old things 🗿
