The Ruined City IC

[Crixx]

The Ruined City Chapter One: Let it Begin

The sun rests comfortably in the otherwise empty sky, continually burning the landscape with its heat. The denizens of Harnid Kun go about their daily lives; weaving through tents, juggling jars of water with children, and making the city run as smoothly as possible. Smiths, lumbermen, innkeepers, and even slavers work as if it is any other day. Most ignore the infrequent flashes of light coming from the north.

Rumors abound in the city, lighting up like wildfire (well, they would if there was anything to catch fire left in Raa). Gorquea makes ready for war, Bulkor is spreading the Church to the other cities, Firmad is in pieces, tribes at war with one another. All of course are quite ridiculous. Those that believe rumors are scoffed at, while those that scoff worry themselves to sleep.

The Shaman has been gone for three weeks, and it is not time for a pilgrimage, at least not traditionally. There is a great tension in the city, ringing with the cries of children, echoing in the blades of the gladiators. There is a city to the north, unnatural and menacing. Harnid Kun stands without a Shaman to lead it. The people continue on their lives, but not with the zeal they once had. They are running out of hope.

@Zemmai A young Eladrin man approaches you in the heat of the day. Golden eyes glow brightly as he looks you up and down, quite blatantly examining your worth. Without a word of greeting or explanation he hands you a piece of parchment. It reads: Your devotion to this world has been noticed. You are ready to learn of the way the earth should look, but it, sadly, is not ready for you. I offer you the opportunity to remedy this. Come to my tent this night, I am assembling those I believe are able to solve this issue. You will meet them tonight as well. -Shaman

@Salamance After a few days of asking around about the Shaman, you discover that no one seems to know where he is. These questions however, have drawn attention. Many citizens avoid you during the day, taking pains to take other paths through the mass of tents that is the city. This being true, it is odd that a golden eyed Eladrin man approaches you in broad daylight. Almost without looking at you, he drops a piece of parchment at your feet. It reads: You search for me it seems. Very well, come to the tent of the Shaman this evening and you will face your destiny. -Shaman

@Khazam You stand outside of another inn, with a job for another day. Every once in a while someone shifty walks by, pausing to look at the establishment. But eventually all onlookers notice the axes at your hips and move on. Well, most do. A golden eyed Eladrin man watches you for an hour. The sun is on its downward turn, but has not yet set. Then he approaches you, and offers up a piece of parchment before heading off into the city. It reads: Before you were forced to work for the city. Whether this was good or bad only you can know. Now, I give you the opportunity to work for this city as a free man. Will you accept this? I certainly hope so. Go to the Shaman's tent in the night if you wish to grant the land the freedom you now know. -Shaman

@Kol As you wander through the city of Harnid Kun, a golden eyed Eladrin man, with what can only be a smirk on his face, hands you a note on a piece of parchment and walks off. It reads: You want to prove your worth yes? But I wonder if you truly can lead. I know that it is not I that you wish to prove yourself to, but the task i need to be done, if it is completed, would give you a great amount of honor. Come to the largest tent in the city this night, it is mine. -Shaman

@Farouk As you spend another day watching caravans arrive and depart, you notice someone watching you. It is an Eladrin man with golden eyes. As you turn to face him, he comes up to you holding out a hand. Sitting in his upturned palm is a piece of parchment. Once you take it, the strange man leaves without a word. The parchment reads: You wonder where your master went, but we all do at this point. He was a great asset many years ago, but some things have been left unfinished. I would ask you to help us finish them. Come to the tent of the Shaman this evening, and things will be explained in more detail. -Shaman

As the sun begins to set, a deep red hue is taken up by the sky. One final shimmer from the north fades and the inhabitants of Harnid Kun begin to settle for the night.

[Arq Kujos]

Salamance was still young, and nervousness gripped him as he waited near the tent where the parchment had instructed him to wait. Though, perhaps it wasn't just nervousness. A mixture of excitement and relief also swirled in his heart. The last three days had been incredibly frustrating as he searched fruitlessly.

Then all that changed when the strange Eladrin dropped the scroll. For some reason, the Shaman was moving in secret. Salamance had no idea why, but he knew it was his destiny to find those lost ruins, and his father's remains. With his shield on his back and his sword sheathed, Salamance finally entered the tent.

[bruntonspall]

Khazam chewed thoughtfully on his moustache as he read the parchment. To serve the city, and serve the Shaman, it would be an honour, and could well make him rich and famous, or dead.

He makes his way over to the tent and waits, noticing the waiting Salamance, he stands a fair distance away and waits until Salamance enters the tent, then he follows in.

[rollelectric]

The note was quick and to the point. It caused a flutter within Zemmai, she was overjoyed with the opportunity. The Shaman himself was calling upon her assistance acknowledging her worth. This was her chance to learn something of the land, and perhaps even fix it.

Shaking her head, Zemmai quickly pulls herself together and heads for the Shaman's tent. The news from the Shaman meant that he was not in danger as rumor suggested. Zemmai felt the tension leaving her body as she made her way to the meeting.

[Turk Mannion]

"This is it," Kol thought to himself, "this is how it will start. Time to show them what I can do."

Kol read the note once more, before carefully tucking it into his pouch, and entering the tent.

[arrowhen]

The wine-seller's tent is cool and shady, busy but not over-crowded, its air thick with incense and the pleasant murmur of drink-blurred conversation. Sprawled lazily on a soft, gaudy cushion in one corner, Farouk empties the decanter into his intricately carved wooden cup, spicing the wine with a whispered cantrip. The adequate but unremarkable vintage is a regrettably necessary practicality -- Farouk's coin-purse, carefully tucked away beneath his fine silk robes, has grown noticeably lighter since he first arrived in the city.

Sipping absently at his wine, Farouk reads over the parchment once again, seeking some new clue, some new insight, some additional fragment of meaning in those scant few words that may have escaped him in his dozen or more readings of them over the last hour. But there is no new knowledge to be gained, only the same maddening uncertainty, the same conflicting feelings.

The Shaman had returned in secret from his mysterious and unseasonable absence -- if the note spoke the truth. Farouk's suspicions about Zamiriofar were correct; the old man did have some kind of unfinished business in his past, business that now seemed to have involved the Shaman. But where was he now? That a master chose not to divulge his intentions to his apprentice was one thing, but if he was taking up his old cause, why wouldn't he have sought contact with the Shaman? Farouk curses his master's tight lips, curses his own reluctance to satisfy his curiosity when he had the chance.

And where does that leave him now? His freedom, unasked for and abruptly granted, seems to be melting away in the face of his sense of duty to his former master. But in a way, Farouk was glad. Here was a purpose, a sense of direction. And to be honest, it was all so exciting. Here he was, being drawn into great events involving the Shaman himself. Not bad for a one-time street-urchin. But what did it all mean? Where would it all lead?

Enough!

He could lounge here and wonder all night, or he could go and find out. Rising from his cushion with a soft grunt of exertion, leaving his wine unfinished, Farouk goes to find out.

[Crixx]

The tent is lit by candlelight, shadows flicker along its edges. Standing before you is the Eladrin man from earlier in the day. His eyes seem to glow more strongly in the night than they did in the day. He is smiling, but otherwise does not move as each of you enters the tent. A few seconds after the last of you has come in, the lights all flash out only to come back brighter. All shadows in the room are abolished, and the interior of the tent seems to glow a bright blue. The Eladrin is gone.

In his place is a nearly naked dwarf. Sand covers the hairy man in patches, and a loincloth is wrapped in the appropriate place. Still, the scene before you is odd. The man seems young, but he blinks wearily. He looks to each of you, brow furrowing more at each glance. Looking truly grim now, he speaks, "You all have been asked here for a very special ritual. It is a tradition more ancient than you believe and it has nearly died out just as we gain hope for its success. The hopes of the world will rest on your backs if you attempt this task."

He pauses to look at each of you again, and it seems as if more wrinkles line his face than before. His brown hair is now patched with grey. His beard is lengthened to stretch down to his legs. And then he continues, "There is a city to the north. It is ancient, certainly. Within is the answer to this world's troubles. Inside those reflective walls lies the solution, and therefore all our hopes. Each of you has been chosen, not by me, but by the whims of fate, to help retrieve this solution. If you wish to travel to the city, it would take but a day's hard walk. Though, I'll admit that I don't know how long you will be without resources such as food"

He stares silently at you all for a moment. His hair is a pure white now and he appears to be squinting to see you. Time is of the essence I'm afraid, for I have not much more of it to lend you. Should you partake of this quest you will need to leave at first light. I am sorry to rush you. Certainly it would have been better for you to get to know one another before you left, but sadly it does not appear that you will have the chance. Perhaps the walk will do some good."

Beard trailing on the ground, the elderly dwarf paces before you, gladly, no more aged than he was since before he last spoke, though he looks decidedly frail. He continues to speak, though more quietly. "You must be careful. There are more dangers within that strange place than there are in the desert you have come to know." His pacing stops suddenly and he turns to you with a determined look upon his face. "You must not tell anyone about this journey. That is of the utmost importance. And now I must say goodbye, it appears that this city will have to go a while longer without its Shaman. Please, make haste and succeed.

With that, the lights flash out again to return as wavering candles. There is no one in the tent but you.

[Turk Mannion]

Kol looked around the room at the others. "Not every day you see something like that.....not even sure what it was. Anyone else believe the story the old dwarf was spouting off? 'Answer to the world's troubles'.....'chose by fate'.....Crazy as it sounds, I admit he has me a bit curious."

[Arq Kujos]

"We are all chosen by desstiny for ssomething. To think yoursself beyond Fate'ss call is foolisshnessss." Salamance scratched his nose and then stood up. "We musst depart immediately. Gather your thingss quickly."

[rollelectric]

Not wanting to speak first, and amazed by the dwarf's speech, Zemmai stood in awe. She keeps her face impassive, but inside her emotions are swirling. She is certain that the dwarf was a powerful being and quickly resolves that she'd follow his orders without question. The question that rings through her head as the others talk is loud in her thoughts: Who was that dwarf?

It tugs at her every essence and she makes a grimace as she tries to focus on the words of the others. These are to be her companions for this journey. Zemmai figured they were handpicked by the Shaman himself. However, their journey did not begin til 'first light' she thought to herself. She still could not shake the question from her head. Therefore, she attempts to listen to the others reactions and waits to follow their lead.

[arrowhen]

Farouk blinks at the dwarf's sudden disappearance, then looks around at his new-found companions.

"Well. I don't know if I believe any of that, but who can resist such a singular invitation? I should like to discuss the matter at length, to pool our knowledge and see if why can't determine why the fates -- or whoever claims to operate at their behest -- have chosen us... but I fear we'd only come away with more questions and no further answers.

"If we're to begin at first light, it seems our time would be better spent resting up for the long journey. Unless anyone has pressing business or immediate insight to share, I shall see you all upon the morrow."

[rollelectric]

Zemmai had decided that she best take her leave and ponder on today's events in her own company. She fears her thoughts may become muddled with the concerns or lack of concerns of the others. It is the way Zemmai has become accustomed to making difficult decisions.

"I will also take my leave in that case." She realizes her rudeness as she steps out of the tent and hesitated. She decides it'd be best to turn back and introduce herself. "My name is Zemmai. For those who decide to embark on this journey let us meet at first light at the northern gate of the city." She then stands around quietly for a seconds and takes her leave.

[Turk Mannion]

Looking around, Kol nods at each of them. "Name's Kol, from Gorquea." As his eyes pass over them, he does a bit of a double take on Salamance. "Thought that was you when I walked in, but it has been a while, hasn't it?"

[arrowhen]

Farouk blushes, burning cheeks plainly visible beneath his sparse, youthful beard. Do you think yourself still in the gutter, to glare sullenly at strangers rather than extend the hand of friendship? Shame!

"But of course. Where are my manners?" he says, bowing deeply to all assembled, "I can plead only the strangeness of our situation. I am Farouk Fireborn, and it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. Blessings of peace be upon you all!"

[Arq Kujos]

Looking around, Kol nods at each of them. "Name's Kol, from Gorquea." As his eyes pass over them, he does a bit of a double take on Salamance. "Thought that was you when I walked in, but it has been a while, hasn't it?"

"Greetingss Kol. It hass been a long time. I ssee you have grown into a fine warrior. It iss nice to know ssomeone elsse on thiss missssion can handle themsselvess." Salamance smiled and gripped Kol wrist and forearm in a warrior handshake.

[bruntonspall]

Hmm, curiouser and curiouser. An opportunity that it seems we cannot and should not refuse eh? The names Khazam, Fighting and Brawlin's the job, and this fair "city" be my home.
Since The shaman evidently trusts you all, I guess your ok by me. Now does anybody have the slightest blasted clue as to what the heck is actually going on? We're just going to run into that there city, unknowing as to what might be in there? Well I've always got old trusty here, which can cut pretty much anything down to the right size.

[Crixx]

The night goes on and you all rest as you see fit before the sun rises. At first light, desert still cold from the night before, you set out to the north.

The trip is relatively uneventful. Barrenness lies for miles around as you travel. In the early evening, sun preparing to set, you reach your destination.

The great wall extends for leagues in either direction. Not made of any natural substance you have ever seen, it reflects the sun at odd angles. Instead of a large gate, like in Hardin Kun, there is an inscription inlaid over a door shaped carving in the structure.The letters are written in the common script, but the words are mostly gibberish:

Xf efnboe fousbodf up uif dpvodjm. Pvs mboe jt jo offe. Xf ibwf dpnf bt qspqiftjfe.

[rollelectric]

This must be where things get dangerous. Zemmai's eyes take in as much as she can. The inscription is in no language she has ever encountered. The city is larger than she had expected and this makes her even more weary of entering.

She turns to her companions, whom she has grown slightly more fond of after the painstakingly uneventful journey. "We should practice caution." She thinks of arming herself, but decides against it.

[Arq Kujos]

"If thiss iss our desstination, then we musst not be deterred. I will break down thiss door if I have to."

[arrowhen]

Farouk studies the inscription closely, tilting his head and stroking his beard as he thinks aloud.

"It is most probably a simple substitution cipher; the pattern of letter distribution seems to be that of the common tongue... Hmm... The double letter must be an 'E' or an 'O'... 'Food'? 'Moon'? 'Need'? If it is 'need', then the word before must be 'in'... nothing else ends with 'N' and makes sense in context... hmm... 'in need'..."

Suddenly he snaps his fingers and exclaims, "Of course! The letters are simply shifted by one space. The inscription reads... We demand entrance to the council. Our land is in need. We have come as prophesied.'"

[bruntonspall]

Khazam looks at Farouk with a happy glint in his eye. I'm glad that the shaman picked someone smart to accompany us, that was impressive.

[Crixx]

Only moments after Farouk speaks, the carving begins to glow. It seems to be gathering up all the might of the fading sun. With a bright flash the carving of a door crumbles, exposing the room within to desert air and trickles of light. Once the dust settles you see a large stone room. It is massive. Great pillars stretch at least a hundred feet to the ceiling on either side of the room. On the end across from you is an array of huge stone statues. Most at least ten times as tall as a man.

Rightmost is the statue of an Eladrin, the mysterious people more ancient than the elves. To the left of that is a female elf of similar height. Next is a slightly taller human, followed by the shorter half-elf and then a Halfling. Next to that is something similar to a Halfling, but taller with pointed ears, a gnome. Both of these statues are about half the height of the others. Left of these is a barbarous half-orc. To the left of this is a dwarven statue, and then, in what appears to be life-size, a statue of a tielfling on the far left. These statues sit on a cliff across a great pit from a large circular dais.

[arrowhen]

Farouk tries but fails to stifle a grin at his success in opening the doorway. Peering across the pit at the statues, he searches his memory, trying to discern if the statues represent any historical or legendary figures, or have any kind of religious significance.

[History check: [roll0]; Religion check: [roll1]]

[rollelectric]

Amazed by the quickness of Farouk's wit, Zemmai is silent as the doors open and the interior of the city is revealed. She wonders if the statues are important figures. However, she knows little of the history of the other races and cannot be sure. As Farouk displayed her chosen companions were more than capable and would recognize the importance of these figures.

Eager to move in and learn more Zemmai steps forward through the archway slowly taking in as much of the large stone room as she can. The tremendous ceilings leave her in awe as she stares straight up. The room was clearly ancient and untouched. She turns around once taking in all the wonder of the room and moves towards the statues.

[Crixx]

@Farouk
You have heard of no religious meanings associated with this particular arrangement of statues, though you do recall that these depict only the civilized races from the period of time before the land became desert.