~ The Quest for the Ring of Fire Command: [Home] [Previous Turn] [Next Turn] ~

Turn 155.0: Gaten’s Drama

Posted: 6/30/01

            Storm had needed a few moments just to get back to his feet after the statue delivered its massive attack.  For a minute or two, all Storm could do was sit behind the shimmering portal, trying to convince the rest of his body to move.  But he did not worry, for he had been damaged worse in his day. Once his breathing returned to normal, he knew he could get up.  And fortunately, at this point the last statue had been reduced to rubble.  "Ugh..." he mumbles softly.  "Ye momma was a river pebble..." he grumbles under his breath as he rejoins the party.

            Crayne makes his way to the wooden door and takes a closer inspection.  He looks back to the rest of the party, "Move aside for a few moments.  Let me see if I can get this door open."

            Emma nods and leads Storm away from the door, her hand gently resting upon his shoulder.  The dwarf's height makes her feel a brief maternal instinct, almost as if he were a child...but the priestess quickly puts that notion out of her head.  Storm was anything but a young one that needed her protection.  The burly dwarf had more battle scars than some of the oldest priests of her caste.  Still, she recalls that Storm often acts without thinking things through all of the time.  It was his actions that caused the stone guardians to attack...in response to what they saw as a challenge from him.  Though Emma would have preferred to talk her way through that encounter, she couldn't fault Storm all that much for what happened.  It was his natural instinct to protect them and she had wanted to ready her own weapon if for no other reason than to prepare a good defense. 'Besides,' she thinks, 'We all survived. Amos included.  Let's just hope that everything else works out.'

            They inspect the door, and Storm's frustrations mount a little more as he is unsuccessful at loosening the barrier in their way.  He backs off with Emma as Crayne tries his spell. He turns his head away a little, thinking Crayne's spell could misfire or something and turn them all into burning ash.  Such was the dwarven conception of wizardly magic.  Storm, of course, had great faith in Crayne and his abilities; he certainly was a strange human, but he had his priorities in order.  In fact, now that he thinks about it, Storm realizes that they've quite frequently agreed on courses of action for the party.  And Crayne was certainly smarter than he!  Storm smiles a little in delight at this thought.  Strange or not, that magic-using human was definitely his friend.

            With a few nods and mutters that nobody can decipher Crayne casts a spell.  Whirling his arms through the air he shouts a few words and suddenly a green hue of colour appears around the frame of the door.  Within a few seconds it has vanished again.

            Skandor looks around him at everyone as they each watch and wait as Crayne prepares his magic.  The paladin keeps an eye on the portal, as best as he can see from his position.  He also listens as best he can for anything else approaching, from the portal or from within the area they are in now.  His eyes scan his comrades and finally come to rest on the back of Emma's head as she awaits the outcome of Crayne's incantation.  'What to make of her'? Skandor thinks. To the paladin, his shield-maiden had seemed out of sorts as of late, but he still thinks it is the proper time to talk with her about it.  Perhaps if the group had a few days of rest, a quiet place to regain their strength, then he might question her...

            Skandor smirks unseen, as the eyes of his companions are glued upon the door. 'Now I am thinking like a damned interrogator!' Skandor scolds himself, and continues his line of thought.  Perhaps if the group had a few days of rest, a quiet place to regain their strength, then he might offer his shoulder, his ear, as her friend.  She certainly treated him like one of their order: polite, respectful, professional...but so far, he felt, it had all been a part of 'the job'.  Would she even talk to him...confide in him, if he offered to listen?  Or would she be insulted?  Quiet and unresponsive?  Perhaps she did not trust him?

            His brow furrowed.  He felt slightly wounded at the thought, as he glanced around at the others, too.  Did they all trust him?  Sometimes, it was hard to tell.  'The most dangerous enemies,' he was told in his studies, 'are the unseen ones.  Doubt.  Fear.  Lack of confidence.  These things could do far more harm, in the long run, than mere wood and steel.'  Skandor sighed.  'She probably thinks I am just another war-monger, the type of our caste that she does not like.  Little does she know how much we do have in common.'

            As Crayne completes his spell, Skandor turns his attention back to the door, and readies his gladius.  If the spell is successful, there was no telling what sort of foes they might face next.

            Crayne turns to his friend Storm.   "Try it now!" he says.  He moves out of the way and lets Storm have a try.  He hopes that his magic is strong enough.

            Storm looks up to Emma briefly and then goes back over to the door.  With a shrug, he once again smacks the door in an attempt to make it move.  With a great creaking, the door does open!  Storm breaks into a laugh and a smile.  "Piece o' cake!  Must o' been those first two tries, musta loosened it up, right? Hehah!!"  He winks to Crayne.

            Emma watches the dwarf leave her side and approach the door once again.  She hopes Crayne's spell will open the way. There is certainly little else they can call upon at the moment.  And, no longer doubting the wizard's motivations, she's happy to have him and his abilities available.  She looks sidelong at Crayne and gives a respectful nod.  Regardless of the outcome of the spell, she appreciates the effort and those feelings are evident in her expression.

            Those thoughts also remind her of Skandor and his recent contributions.  The Sword-Bearer had risked his own life to pull her from the shadow of the collapsing stone guardian.  She half-smiles to herself, knowing she could expect nothing less from such a loyal follower and brother of Anhur.  He intrigues her though.  For regardless of how much the religious doctrine of Anhur, the code of chivalry attributed to all Sword Bearers, or the expectations of military rank and sacrifice might guide such actions, she knows that there is at least an element of true friendship behind what Skandor does for them all.  It isn't just about following orders or his faith.  And she feels the same way about all of Rinder's Six, too.

            Hannibal hefts his shield again and readies his sword, ready to jump to Storm's aid should anything come through the door immediately after opened.  Patiently, he waits, and watches.

            With a cloud of centuries-old dust the door swings open, unlocked by Crayne's Knock spell, allowing the low light of the two lanterns (one carried by El and the other by Amos) to enter the area beyond.  Storm stands firmly in the doorway, his body taking up its entire width.  Fortunately, his dwarven height allows for the rest of the party to peer in over his shoulders and his head.  The room beyond seems small, perhaps a little smaller than the room with the bowl, statue, and small altar.  But unlike that room, this one is lined wall-to-ceiling with shelves.  There is even a stack of shelves in the center of the room.

            Storm sniffs the air, smelling the musty scent of old books.  It disgusts the dwarf, but to Emma it is the scent of paradise.  She smiles as her eyes scan the ancient library.  'Truly, this is a vault,' she thinks to herself.  'Imagine what I could learn just from these tomes alone?'  Soon, however, she refocuses on the task at hand:  Finding the play about the Rings of Damacht.

            "Careful," Skandor instructs the others, "be careful what you touch in here..."

            And with that, Storm begins to move through the doorway and into the chamber.  As he steps in, the room begins to brighten, but not from lantern-light.  It is as if some kind of ambient light source was waiting for them to enter!  Then, as Canter steps through (the last of the party to enter), the door slowly swings shut behind him.  Canter reaches back, holding it just before it closes completely.  Smiling to Hannibal, he whispers, "I've got it, don't worry!"

            Before the thief can answer, Hannibal's attention is distracted, drawn to a new light source atop the stack of shelves in the center of the room.  Over the course of about ten seconds, various colors of light coalesce into one image, that of a man.  His image shows him to be well advanced in years, with a white beard flowing down his blue robe.  He holds a staff in one hand and looks straight ahead, toward the doorway.  His image is perhaps two feet tall.

            "What the...?" Storm begins.

            "Shh!" Emma cuts the dwarf short.  The image opens its mouth, preparing to speak its message.

            All eyes are glued to the illusion as it begins speaking: "You have made your way to Kilner's Vault, my secret guarded repository of the best knowledge and drama of my day, built to honor the brilliance of Hatheran.  To have reached here you must have discovered the entrance to these chambers, found the spiritual key room and not fell prey to the cursed treasure therein, activated the portal, and satisfied the sentinels outside the Vault itself.  For your accomplishments you should be commended.  I am sure that Hatheran above will commend you in the afterlife.

            "The reward for your efforts is twofold," the image continues, its old voice echoing off the walls of the small room.  "First, all the knowledge and insight of the dramas and music of this library are yours to enjoy.  I spent my entire life collecting the editions, folios, and tomes contained here.  The best composers, play-writers, and poets of the realm are represented in all elements of story and history.  You are welcome to learn and become enlightened in the ways of Hatheran.

            "The second reward, for those whose desires occasionally sink to the level of the tangible, lies back in the spiritual key room.  There treasure you so willfully resisted there, which I now tell you was cursed, is now yours to keep.  At the conclusion of my message, the curses will be lifted and you may remove any three items."

            Then, the image's voice becomes more stern: "But be warned!  The vast treasure of knowledge contained within my vault must for all time remain within my vault.  Should you attempt to remove anything from my vault, you will be condemning yourself to be trapped in this very place.  Come, learn and be entertained in the best tradition of the powerful Hatheran, and leave my vault in peace, in time."

            With that, the image of the man bows and begins to fade, leaving the party silent inside the vault.

            "So that was Kilner himself?"  Canter asks, looking to Amos, whose head is bowed very low.

            Amos raises his head once again, turning to the leatherman's son.  "It would seem so," he replies.

            "Then who is this 'Hatheran'?" Hannibal asks.

            Amos shakes his head, "Perhaps that is the ancient name for Hathe.  Remember, this vault was constructed a very long time ago, when my caste was still in its early stages.  Many changes and refinements have been enacted since the time of this vault.  But I wonder now what more we'n can learn with the knowledge stored here..."

            "First," Emma interjects, "We must find the play we seek.  The one that will tell us about the castle of Vohnungt.  For there, according to the tome I translated, we will find what we truly seek before the entire kingdom is doomed.

            "How will we know where to look?" El asks Emma, gesturing all around him toward the massive numbers of books, folios, and manuscripts.

            "Most wizardly libraries are well organized," Crayne suggests.  "If this Kilner was in any way educated, he would have organized his collection in some manner."

            Emma nods, "Crayne is probably right.  All temple libraries are organized very rigidly, that way any information you seek can be accessed without spending weeks searching.  Our first task, then, is to figure out how Kilner organized his library."

            "Well over here I have something titled 'Species Counterpoint and Tonus Scales,'" Hannibal says, reading the spine of one book off a nearby shelf.  "Whatever that means," he adds with a smirk.

            "The ancient art of music, my friend," Amos says to Hannibal, reaching for the book.  He opens it, peering at the first few pages.  Smiling, he closes it carefully.  "A treasure.  Each book here will bring years of wonderful study to my priests!  But...this section must be music."

            "We need drama, Amos.  Drama," Skandor says, trying to keep the oft-flighty Director focused on the task at hand.

            "Right, Storm, what have you'n got over there?" Amos says, nodding to Skandor and looking to the dwarf.

            "Uhh...I got me 'The Dawnin' of thems Gods'...er, somethin' like that," the dwarf replies, smiling a toothy smile to the others.

            "Drama!" Amos exclaims.  "But not just drama, dramatic history.  You'n have found it.  Now, we look..." and with that, the priest sets to scanning the shelves, peering at each and every book until he finds the right one.

            "Hey Emma," Hannibal says while Amos is searching the shelves, "your god said Covarc wouldn't follow us in here, right?"

            "That's right, Hannibal," Emma replies.

            "Fine, but he didn't say anything about where Covarc would be when we left this place.  Am I right about that?"

            "Yes."

            "Hmm..." Hannibal says, placing a hand on the Shield Maiden's shoulder while he strokes his chin with the other, "then maybe some of us had better plan on how exactly we're going to get past that guy.  Remember, just because we may find this play here doesn't mean we're going to keep it..."

            "Got it!!  I found it!" Amos exclaims loudly, reaching up to the top shelf on one of the far walls and pulling down a thin folio carefully.  He walks it over to the rest of the party, delicately unfolding it before them.

            "How long will it take until we get what we need from this play?" Canter asks.  "'Cause the longer we take here, the more time Covarc has to plan our destruction out there.  Let's remember that."

            "Good point, Canter," Skandor says, nodding to the fighter.  "Amos?"

            "It could be fast, it could take some time.  I must decipher some of the script and then there is the interpretation..."

            "Fine then, let's get to work," Skandor replies, nodding to Amos.

 

            The seconds fade into minutes as the Director Amos sits on the dusty ground, Emma at his side, translating and interpreting the play.  They discuss each line, each character, each page in quiet whispers as they wade through the text.  At the same time, Canter, Crayne, El, Hannibal, Skandor, and Storm make themselves comfortable, addressing some of their wounds and taking stock of their damage and equipment.

            About an hour later, Crayne overhears Emma say, "...then I think we've got it," and Amos's reply, "I think you'n are right."

            "What is that?" the mage asks, "Have you found what we need?"

            Emma nods, "I think so!"  She clears her throat and moves over to where the others are sitting, leaning up against some of the old shelves.  "The play is by a poet, Gaten was his name.  He is very eloquent, indeed Naeron would have enjoyed reading Gaten's work.  Anyway, the play seems to be the story of three adventurers from Caerloon, three bumbling fools..."

            "Well it seems their sense of humor was right on hundreds of years ago!" Hannibal comments, laughing.

            "I think that was the point, Hannibal, well taken," Emma says, smiling to the thief and noting his quick and--to the best of her knowledge--correct interpretation of the play, so far.  "They are meant to represent men from three cities in Caerloon, Cahren, the capital, Easden, a city to the west of the capital, and Brinden, to the east.  These fools, in the story, take to a small boat in the Cahrendhur Ocean, to the very south of Caerloon, and find themselves shipwrecked on the Islands of Vile after a mighty tempest.  Which particular island they are stranded on is unclear at first, but based on the descriptive poetry by one of the fools, the one from Brinden, I think it's implied that the island is the east-most of the chain.  An island called Latimus.  It is rather small, but on the south end, according to this fool, is a castle."

            "Vohnungt's castle?" Skandor asks.

            "I believe it's the very one," Emma replies smiling.  "There, the three fools find the castle destroyed, half in ruins, and the rest ransacked by pirates.  But up in the top of one of the towers, they find something which changes their lives forever.  Something with immense power..."

            "What is it?" Storm asks.

            "I don't know," Emma replies--a response which is obviously a disappointment to the dwarf, who had become entranced by her recounting of the story.  "That's where the manuscript ends.  Amos and I are not sure if the manuscript is incomplete, or if the play was never finished.  We think the play was never finished, since rumor has it Gaten spent much time here at El-Balans when it was first founded, so one would think that a complete copy would be here in Kilner's Vault."

            Crayne clears his throat, addressing the group, "It seems obvious to me that what the fools found in the play was the ring we seek, the Ring of Fire Command.  Perhaps this Gaten decided that to reveal the true identity of whatever they found would have revealed the power and location of the Ring, and therefore, in the hopes of keeping the power of the ring hidden, he stopped writing the play."

            "That sounds plausible to me, Crayne," Emma agrees.

            "But if I've got this straight, the details of the play don't really matter...much," Canter says, looking to Crayne and Emma.  "The point is, we now know where to find this Vohnungt's castle, and presumably, the ring."

            "Providing it hasn't been discovered and moved in the intervening centuries." Skandor adds.

            "True," Canter concedes.  "But right now I think it's the best we have to go on.  And I think it marks significant progress in our search."

            "Maybe so," Hannibal says, rising from his seat on the floor with the others.  "But that progress will all be for nothing if we don't figure out what to do about that lunatic Red Dragon mage waiting for us on the other side of the portal!"

1.  HP Status:

            Canter: 22/44, Crayne: 24/16, Elloharin: 7/28, Emma: 22/47, Hannibal: 16/29, Skandor: 15/38, Storm: 14/50.

~ The Quest for the Ring of Fire Command: [Home] [Previous Turn] [Next Turn] ~