Post by Orianna Èirigh on Sept 5, 2022 15:49:05 GMT
OBSERVATIONS & EXCERPTS from the JOURNAL of SECOND ASSISTANT ARCHIVIST ORIANNA ÈIRIGH of ASHKHA
The season is coming to its end. Autumn approaches. I have never experienced winter before. I wonder what it will be like. There are stories of the harvest, the time of reaping but for us back in- back home, things do not change like they do here.
Is that why those who leave do not return? That it feels like going backwards to a time of before?…
It seems Nessa was of the same mind as me. She sought me out for a return trip to the Temple of Bahamut, along with the fairy, Beets. Knowing what we did about the undead we faced there though meant we could not and should not go just the three of us. Beets went to gather a couple more members and returned with two very unique individuals.
The first, Lucky, was a noble knight, well versed in the language and culture of dragons and their ilk. He spoke with such aplomb that he really reminded me of my father. I felt more assured of everything the moment I met him. His experience would undoubtedly help keep everyone safer than the last time we faced these creatures.
The second was a peculiar elf who calls herself Ylana Lightmane. I could tell right away that Beets did not like her and I wondered why, until I started to see how Ylana acted, particularly around Lucky. She clung to him, not out of a desperate desire to be protected but rather to be the centre of some kind of attention. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. She seemed to be under the impression we were just going for a simple stroll through the draconic metropolis willy nilly. It wasn’t until Nessa imparted the real reason we were going, and I added the extra information I gleaned from my visit last week to the Dragonstone Academy, that she and Lucky got a better understanding of the situation.
Or at least, Lucky did. Ylana still didn’t seem bothered and I wasn’t sure if it was ignorance or bravado…
Whilst walking through the market in Kundar, searching through one of the stalls draped in exquisitely dip-dyed fabrics, Orianna overhears the dragonborn vendor speaking to their tabaxi counterpart who is selling jewellery.
“A lot of strange things happening here lately.”
“Stranger than having a hoard of red dragons attack a city that has half its residents praying to The Many-Mawed?”
“Aye, stranger than that. Did you know the Temple of Bahamut has been seeing some of it’s acolytes getting their hearts ripped out?”
“No way!” the dragonborn shouts, before lowering their voice. Continuing quieter, “So that’s why High Cerlic Cornelius looked so strained at the last service.”
“And scholars at the Dragonstone Academy have been turning to dust,” continued the tabaxi, the jingle of their wares making soft tinkling sounds as they shook their head.
“Yeah but they are kobolds. Is that really such a loss?” growled the dragonborn.
“Do you really wish to see the nobility getting angry because they keep getting killed?” countered the tabaxi.
There’s a long pause, then. “They could do with being humbled a little bit, but I guess… maybe not outright killed…”
“Hmm. Still, it’s not the strangest thing I’ve heard.”
Orianna freezes, bracing herself for what new undead rumours may be coming from this unexpected source.
“Oh? And what could be more strange than having your heart ripped out or turning to dust?”
“Well, for one seeing a crystal dragonborn.”
“A what?”
“You heard me.”
“There ain’t no such thing-”
“Oh but there is. I saw them. Running around with a tiefling they were, carrying some kind of crystal disk-”
“Where?” Orianna asks, suddenly bursting through a curtain of fabric to the two seller’s, all pretension of eavesdropping lost. The bronze dragonborn and calico tabaxi look at her with a mixture of surprise and worry. “Where did you see them? Please,” she adds softer, the glow of her Star Cradle staff pulsing with a sympathetic light.
“Uh, well, it wasn’t me exactly,” the tabaxi starts, busying himself with adjusting his display.
“Hey are you one of those adventurers from that place- Daring Heights?” the dragonborn asks. “Do you know Ghesh? When’s he gonna come back. Maybe he can help with these-”
A roll of fabric falls from the dragonborn’s stall and he curses. The calico tabaxi looks just a little too innocent.
Orianna comes forward to help, resting her staff against the dragonborn’s table. “Please, I need to know.” She looks between the two merchants. They share a look.
“Not saying it was me who saw them,” the tabaxi started, “But… I don’t think anyone has seen them recently. Could be they were just passin’ through.”
“I… see,” she says, bright violet eyes turning down, crestfallen. She passes the fabric she’s gathered back to the dragonborn, grabs her staff, and leaves.
“Orianna. Hey. Orianna! Hello~. Are you with us?”
Beets flits in front of her face, drawing the tiefling’s attention away from the market down the street.
“Hmm? Yes. I am. Sorry, I was thinking.”
“Ah, I see.” The beetle fairy’s eyes drift over to where Ylana is still clinging to Lucky and her face pinches.
“Nessa, I was wondering if we should speak to Cornelius before we head down to the caves. What do you think?” Orianna asks.
“Yes, we should. Check in and find out if anything else has happened since we were here…”
The Temple of Bahamut has seen better days. Cornelius was kind and offered to pay us for the help were were giving of our own volition but all of us — except Ylana — said we could not take their platinum. It can be hard to see one’s home fall into disrepair but I did what I could and grew some silver flowers between the cracks of the stonework. Lucky seemed to approve of this, which made me all the happier for doing it.
Cornelius mentioned that since we were last there, some of the clergy have gone missing. An ill omen. Apparently there has also been an increase in “visions” from the Platinum Lord. One acolyte even claimed to have seen the very statue outside come to life with Bahamut speaking to them. These quests were all telling the clergy to go to the same area as the researchers from the Dragonstone Academy went, the same area that my map to Grougaloragran’s cave is.
When we asked Cornelius how legitimate these visions were he didn’t see any reason to doubt them. Yet something about it all really did not sit well with me. Neither with Nessa apparently. Their High Prellet is said to be incredibly well connected to the Platinum Dragon, and if push came to shove they would be able to help defend the city and the temple.
Yet I have my doubts…
So many bodies. So many undead in the caves, including one of the young white drakes we fought when visiting Grougaloragran. Too many coincidences. Too many unknowns. The most prominent being the humanoid undead that spoke — and they were not a ghost or wraith. They were solid with the dark necrotic fire burning within every undead we’ve seen so far has had.
Except they spoke.
I pitied the drake that had been used. The creature was in pain — Lucky could see it just the same as I could in its eyes. Even when it fought him, its claws and teeth were not motivated by the same ferocity I had seen the first time our paths had crossed.
But what does this mean? Grougaloragran said he would dispose of their bodies. Has something happened to him? Is he hurt or… worse? I wanted to return to him, to ask him more about this prophecy but going to where he is we might be walking into the belly of the beast.
Fathers, what should I do?…
Ylana either had a death wish or is really not very smart.
Even after seeing the creatures we fought, seeing the dark fire that burned within them, she thought to pick up the staff the undead that spoke was using and nearly was consumed!
I reacted brashly… and rudely… much to my shame. I apologised to her and she seemed to accept it. Though I am unsure whether she fully understands that what she did was dangerous, not only to her, but to the rest of us as well.
Let’s hope we don’t have to see her for a little while…
Thinking back, when we told Cornelius about what we found, Nessa using her avatar of her moon goddess to help lift up some of the bodies we found, what he said about the Temple of Tiamat not having given any word of trouble so far is concerning. And then the five-headed dragon staff. Clear iconography of The Many Mawed. I do not wish to jump to conclusions. It can cloud any perception of new evidence brought to light, for there were bodies from both temples in the caves below.
It could be the Temple of Tiamat is making a play, though for what purpose I would not know.
It could be the Temple of Bahamut is trying to gain a stronger foothold, though the state of the temple and its disrepair doesn’t make me think it can when clearly the nobles would want a pristine place to worship.
Or it could be neither, and both are just being used against the other.
Perhaps some research into the undead and the strange writings in Infernal, Celestial and Draconic we recovered from the Dragonstone Academy will give me a better idea of what to do next…
The season is coming to its end. Autumn approaches. I have never experienced winter before. I wonder what it will be like. There are stories of the harvest, the time of reaping but for us back in- back home, things do not change like they do here.
Is that why those who leave do not return? That it feels like going backwards to a time of before?…
It seems Nessa was of the same mind as me. She sought me out for a return trip to the Temple of Bahamut, along with the fairy, Beets. Knowing what we did about the undead we faced there though meant we could not and should not go just the three of us. Beets went to gather a couple more members and returned with two very unique individuals.
The first, Lucky, was a noble knight, well versed in the language and culture of dragons and their ilk. He spoke with such aplomb that he really reminded me of my father. I felt more assured of everything the moment I met him. His experience would undoubtedly help keep everyone safer than the last time we faced these creatures.
The second was a peculiar elf who calls herself Ylana Lightmane. I could tell right away that Beets did not like her and I wondered why, until I started to see how Ylana acted, particularly around Lucky. She clung to him, not out of a desperate desire to be protected but rather to be the centre of some kind of attention. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. She seemed to be under the impression we were just going for a simple stroll through the draconic metropolis willy nilly. It wasn’t until Nessa imparted the real reason we were going, and I added the extra information I gleaned from my visit last week to the Dragonstone Academy, that she and Lucky got a better understanding of the situation.
Or at least, Lucky did. Ylana still didn’t seem bothered and I wasn’t sure if it was ignorance or bravado…
Whilst walking through the market in Kundar, searching through one of the stalls draped in exquisitely dip-dyed fabrics, Orianna overhears the dragonborn vendor speaking to their tabaxi counterpart who is selling jewellery.
“A lot of strange things happening here lately.”
“Stranger than having a hoard of red dragons attack a city that has half its residents praying to The Many-Mawed?”
“Aye, stranger than that. Did you know the Temple of Bahamut has been seeing some of it’s acolytes getting their hearts ripped out?”
“No way!” the dragonborn shouts, before lowering their voice. Continuing quieter, “So that’s why High Cerlic Cornelius looked so strained at the last service.”
“And scholars at the Dragonstone Academy have been turning to dust,” continued the tabaxi, the jingle of their wares making soft tinkling sounds as they shook their head.
“Yeah but they are kobolds. Is that really such a loss?” growled the dragonborn.
“Do you really wish to see the nobility getting angry because they keep getting killed?” countered the tabaxi.
There’s a long pause, then. “They could do with being humbled a little bit, but I guess… maybe not outright killed…”
“Hmm. Still, it’s not the strangest thing I’ve heard.”
Orianna freezes, bracing herself for what new undead rumours may be coming from this unexpected source.
“Oh? And what could be more strange than having your heart ripped out or turning to dust?”
“Well, for one seeing a crystal dragonborn.”
“A what?”
“You heard me.”
“There ain’t no such thing-”
“Oh but there is. I saw them. Running around with a tiefling they were, carrying some kind of crystal disk-”
“Where?” Orianna asks, suddenly bursting through a curtain of fabric to the two seller’s, all pretension of eavesdropping lost. The bronze dragonborn and calico tabaxi look at her with a mixture of surprise and worry. “Where did you see them? Please,” she adds softer, the glow of her Star Cradle staff pulsing with a sympathetic light.
“Uh, well, it wasn’t me exactly,” the tabaxi starts, busying himself with adjusting his display.
“Hey are you one of those adventurers from that place- Daring Heights?” the dragonborn asks. “Do you know Ghesh? When’s he gonna come back. Maybe he can help with these-”
A roll of fabric falls from the dragonborn’s stall and he curses. The calico tabaxi looks just a little too innocent.
Orianna comes forward to help, resting her staff against the dragonborn’s table. “Please, I need to know.” She looks between the two merchants. They share a look.
“Not saying it was me who saw them,” the tabaxi started, “But… I don’t think anyone has seen them recently. Could be they were just passin’ through.”
“I… see,” she says, bright violet eyes turning down, crestfallen. She passes the fabric she’s gathered back to the dragonborn, grabs her staff, and leaves.
“Orianna. Hey. Orianna! Hello~. Are you with us?”
Beets flits in front of her face, drawing the tiefling’s attention away from the market down the street.
“Hmm? Yes. I am. Sorry, I was thinking.”
“Ah, I see.” The beetle fairy’s eyes drift over to where Ylana is still clinging to Lucky and her face pinches.
“Nessa, I was wondering if we should speak to Cornelius before we head down to the caves. What do you think?” Orianna asks.
“Yes, we should. Check in and find out if anything else has happened since we were here…”
The Temple of Bahamut has seen better days. Cornelius was kind and offered to pay us for the help were were giving of our own volition but all of us — except Ylana — said we could not take their platinum. It can be hard to see one’s home fall into disrepair but I did what I could and grew some silver flowers between the cracks of the stonework. Lucky seemed to approve of this, which made me all the happier for doing it.
Cornelius mentioned that since we were last there, some of the clergy have gone missing. An ill omen. Apparently there has also been an increase in “visions” from the Platinum Lord. One acolyte even claimed to have seen the very statue outside come to life with Bahamut speaking to them. These quests were all telling the clergy to go to the same area as the researchers from the Dragonstone Academy went, the same area that my map to Grougaloragran’s cave is.
When we asked Cornelius how legitimate these visions were he didn’t see any reason to doubt them. Yet something about it all really did not sit well with me. Neither with Nessa apparently. Their High Prellet is said to be incredibly well connected to the Platinum Dragon, and if push came to shove they would be able to help defend the city and the temple.
Yet I have my doubts…
So many bodies. So many undead in the caves, including one of the young white drakes we fought when visiting Grougaloragran. Too many coincidences. Too many unknowns. The most prominent being the humanoid undead that spoke — and they were not a ghost or wraith. They were solid with the dark necrotic fire burning within every undead we’ve seen so far has had.
Except they spoke.
I pitied the drake that had been used. The creature was in pain — Lucky could see it just the same as I could in its eyes. Even when it fought him, its claws and teeth were not motivated by the same ferocity I had seen the first time our paths had crossed.
But what does this mean? Grougaloragran said he would dispose of their bodies. Has something happened to him? Is he hurt or… worse? I wanted to return to him, to ask him more about this prophecy but going to where he is we might be walking into the belly of the beast.
Fathers, what should I do?…
Ylana either had a death wish or is really not very smart.
Even after seeing the creatures we fought, seeing the dark fire that burned within them, she thought to pick up the staff the undead that spoke was using and nearly was consumed!
I reacted brashly… and rudely… much to my shame. I apologised to her and she seemed to accept it. Though I am unsure whether she fully understands that what she did was dangerous, not only to her, but to the rest of us as well.
Let’s hope we don’t have to see her for a little while…
Thinking back, when we told Cornelius about what we found, Nessa using her avatar of her moon goddess to help lift up some of the bodies we found, what he said about the Temple of Tiamat not having given any word of trouble so far is concerning. And then the five-headed dragon staff. Clear iconography of The Many Mawed. I do not wish to jump to conclusions. It can cloud any perception of new evidence brought to light, for there were bodies from both temples in the caves below.
It could be the Temple of Tiamat is making a play, though for what purpose I would not know.
It could be the Temple of Bahamut is trying to gain a stronger foothold, though the state of the temple and its disrepair doesn’t make me think it can when clearly the nobles would want a pristine place to worship.
Or it could be neither, and both are just being used against the other.
Perhaps some research into the undead and the strange writings in Infernal, Celestial and Draconic we recovered from the Dragonstone Academy will give me a better idea of what to do next…