Brass Memories – Orianna Èirigh – 21.02.2023

OBSERVATIONS & EXCERPTS from the JOURNAL of SECOND ASSISTANT ARCHIVIST ORIANNA ÈIRIGH of ASHKHA

You know those times where, no matter how much you prepare for them, no matter how much you try to be open to whatever goodness may come up, you can see the awkward situation coming from miles away?

It was a good thing I had that small bag of apples with me.

I kept thinking about the nearly disastrous dinner we had a few months ago. I almost did not answer Henri’s request for help but Gerhard encouraged me to try. He, Henri, still seemed strained at seeing me, and tried, again, to give me his talisman.

There’s just something about it, about him, that I still don’t trust…



It came as no surprise that the Elemental Plane of Fire was exceedingly hot but it has to be written down, for posterity — the Elemental Plane is blissfully scorching!

I may have enjoyed it. Just a little bit.

The City of Brass was a whole other site to behold. I was infinitely glad a close acquaintance and colleague from the Academy, Calla, had been invited. (I wonder how Henri and she met.) She shared my enthusiasm for the exploration of a new place, though such excitement was tempered greatly by a slight delay in the truth from one Henri Fitzroy, something with Tayz did not seem keen on being misinformed about: That being the real reason we were there.

To find Henri’s lost memories from when he was Mister’s puppet.

I should have expected it. The man is obsessed where Gerhard is cautious. Bless Calla for her headstrong determination to keep us on task. Though I shared Tayz’s frustration, arguing it out in the middle of an elemental city was not the place to do it…




This is a phrase I read some time ago during one of my many weeks of work at the Academy. It is meant to describe the Elemental Plane of Fire, and I certainly thought it did when we arrived.

But then we met Asteros, and these words came back to me like a branch snapping back into place. They are something else…



Mister’s meddling seems to have caused problems for this Asteros as well. Henri was given back his memories, but he (and by extension we) were to help fix a problem Henri’s previous Steward and Keeper had caused. A simple rift in time and space.

Not only was that an instant concern for me, but in the same breath Asteros then mentions someone is now trying to make use of this weakness between the planes and fabric of the Cosmos. I needed to know who it was, who this bold (and reckless) person could be. But Asteros would not say, not until we successfully completed the task…



We left the City of Brass. With his memories returned, Henri was our guide. He seemed fairly calm with what he gained back, which I took to be a blessing. Perhaps if Henri were to find more of his memories he would not be so hungry for more all the time?

Or perhaps not…



A rough sketch of a set of brass doors with a scale beside it, indicating their height and width. Drawn out with perfect clarity is an Ignan inscription with Orianna’s unique version of Primordial translation below. The translation says, ‘For the glory of [space left blank] may the heart of the forge ever burn.’

Below it is a simple question: The First Primordials?



Before entering, I had to ask the Cosmos if we were walking into some kind of trap. Though Henri had his memories back, I did not trust him to remember to tell us where such tricks may lie, if he even knew of them. It could have been that Mister came back later without him, but I would not risk it. Tayz also had not gotten over the omission from earlier, so I took the time to ask and got an answer: One trap has already been sprung, whilst one awaited us.

Glade, upon hearing this, summoned an element of the earth, which seemed to give strange glances to Calla. I wanted to ask why, and I heard her say a few things to the summoned elemental but I soon became lost in the hieroglyphics and carvings beyond the doors!

Depictions of creatures, some appearing like celestial angels, others like dragons, building and forging four unknown things. Then, a shift, into a conflict, some great war.

I wish I could have studied it more. I may have to return at some point…



As the illusion dropped, we saw it — the rend in time and space. Some type of elemental creature was using it to give itself more power. It started to attack and I did not hesitate. I became The Dragon, focusing on stopping this creature so we could deal with the true issue at hand — closing the rift.

Then Henri ran up beside me, muttering something about Gerhard not mentioning I could summon the Cosmos into my being.

Was there awe in his voice? Was there trepidation in his glance? Did I feel empowered by both or either and wish to show him just what I could do?

Yes, I did.

I still don’t know what to think about that…



On our return to the City of Brass I pondered the reason for Henri’s sudden desire to find these memories specifically. Henri has never struck me as the type of person to think about how his actions have or do affect others. Yet with the deed done it has given me pause. In the past from what Gerhard told me, all Henri cared about was finding the next big thing.

Could getting his memories back really be something that changed him so much?

Or was he being told to do this? And if so, by whom?

And most importantly, are they an ally of Mister’s?…



Magdara. The name of Asteros’ cousin. The name of the being who was trying to use the rift for… something. Asteros would not say or they did not know, and I could not surmise which of the two it would have been. They could tell Calla and I were interested in finding out more — am I so easy to read? — but told us that if we tried to search in tomes and scrolls, we would not find anything.

Then they said something curious to Henri: “My kind are well acquainted with that of your employers.” It was not the words themselves but the possible meaning behind it. I cannot help but wonder if Asteros was referring to something along similar lines as the story carved behind the doors of that place…



A Primordial Promise.

These words, written in Common, are slightly bolder than the rest of the writing in this journal entry, almost as if Orianna had traced over these words a few times. Below them is a hastily scribbled question in her unique version of Primordial, and an amateur portrait of what appears to be a horned person with flaming hair.