United By A Cold Desire (Closed)

[Cydnar]

United By A Cold Desire (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6O6Q1OiF6LI&feature=related)

2587



Closed to Sir Artemis.

I stand here in the candlelight,
In darkness and in shine,
I step up to the window pane,
Between sadness and divine.

I clamber and I clatter,
Through hollow halls of home,
I look out through the dusty veil,
To the world I might have known.

I sit here and I wonder,
In chains that bind me so,
I want to see the world I miss,
But when, I do not know.

Cydney Oliver.

[Cydnar]

“This does not look like the sort of place we might find a master blacksmith, Cydnar…” Dalasi’s tone suggested to his brother that he was going to have a hard time getting him on side. It may well have been the cold, the dark, or the maze like isolation of Knife’s Edge talking, but there was nothing in this small shanty town that suggested success, talent, fortune.

There was nothing here that suggested a forge big enough to cater for the needs of the Hummel.

“Give it time, Dalasi. This is where the dwarf said his young ‘prodigy’ resided. Bazzak has yet to let us down yet.” Cydnar tucked his hair behind his ears, fingering the recesses of his hood so that when he made his entrance, he retained his regal appearance. He had even donned his slender mithril tiara, the traditional symbol of an envoy to the surface races.

They had spoken with their contact earlier that day, and been told to return after night fall when their blacksmith was set to return.

“From what I saw of the Kachuk mines, prodigy might be a horribly relative term…”

“That would be an acceptable doubt, if anyone in the entire population of Ict could hammer together even the simplest of blades without magic.” The sarcasm might have seemed vindictive to another, but the brothers had the sort of relationship that thrived on a strong undertone of competition.

The shanty town was a sleepy place, wooden shacks slated with broken tiles and deep drifts of snow that had long turned to ice. Icicles as long as spear tips lined every rooftop edge, and doorways cast golden glows of warm, roaring fires out onto the sombre street. Here and there, an abandoned hut, burnt out or crushed by falling debris from siege warfare broke the undisturbed scene. The civil war in Salvar had not kept its violence to the capital and the once tall towers of Saint Denebriel’s Cathedral. It smacked of neglect, and as they progressed north along the rubble lined street, even Cydnar’s expectations began to drop sharply.

Preparations for the first phase of the Hummel’s return to the surface of Althanas had begun three months ago. The council of the Hummel and the Salthias court had convened for logistical planning in the grand chamber of the High Court. There, they had made the simple vow to arm their advance guard with more conventional weapons, with the knowledge that on the surface, their geomantic powers would not be able to form the highly complex crystalline weapons the Salthias used in battle.

Drawing on their long dwindled diplomatic connections, they turned to the drakelings. There were no smiths there who could help. The Fae too possessed only artisans in their midst, and the Corone Rangers would have been too occupied with their own war efforts to spare any of their forges for an allied cause that would not benefit their long conflict with the Empire. When they had called upon the old allegiance with the dwarves, the narcissistic occupants of the Kachuk Mountains, there had been a glimmer of hope.

They spoke of a man named Artemis Eburi, one of the few non-dwarves to have successfully crafted mithril. He, apparently, was the only person in all of Salvar who could help them. Cydnar suspected divine intervention, or sickening irony was at work.

With the blessing and support of the council, Cydnar and Dalasi had travelled to the last of the way stones, high atop the still splendid peaks of the Ahyark Mountains. Though the river valley housing Knife’s Edge was devastated, cliffs crumbling beneath the scowl of divine scorn, the snow still fell on the oldest mountain range of Althanas. There, the brothers had stood before the last shard of Yrene’s power and called upon their greatest strength. The mountains had trembled and shook, and far below Knife’s Edge, a vast crystal geode, large enough to house a city began to rise through the mantle of the world.

The ritual had taken days, but climbing down the mountain peaks, bedraggled and sweaty, the brothers returned to their home triumphant. Once, the number of geomancers powerful enough to turn stone to water would have raised the geode through the rock and stone without the aid of their Thayne. The providence of the Hummel had been devastated during the Corpse War, and too many sacrifices without note had been made to preserve the surface kingdoms to have afforded the Hummel the luxury of a speedy relocation.

Cydnar still mourned the loss of his true love (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?19948-Of-Shadows-And-Dust-(Task-Vs.-Cydnar)&highlight=), his brother, and his family…

“I think that must be the forge,” Dalasi prodded his walking stick towards the large building at the end of the street. It was considerably larger than the huts, larger still than the tavern they had passed with its swinging sign and chorus of drunken laughter. Cydnar’s joke about the ‘Bearded Gnome’ was best left unmentioned.

“Excellent observation, Dalasi. Do you have the crystal?” Cydnar held out his gloved hand, removing it from the comfort of his fur trimmed over coat just long enough to take the small vermillion orb from his brother. He pocketed it, its aura tingling up his arm like a welcome wave of heat and energy. It was their peace offering to the smith, a bribe, perhaps, but one they hoped would show that their request was sincere.

“I do not see why we should give him that, considering where it is from…” The young swordsman sounded begrudging. Though he was traditional, Cydnar’s recent liberal reform was beginning to irk his brother.

“It is the way things are done.”

“It is the way you wish to see things done, you mean?”

“Yes Dalasi. If you wish to conduct this business arrangement, take the court and the council, and deal with all that entails you is most welcome.” Cydnar’s offer was not as kind as it first appeared. Dalasi was a born swordsman, one of the finest military minds in the current Hummel military force. Though he possessed virtually no geomantic ability, despite his place in the Yrene household, he had been gifted in other ways that even Cydnar was jealous of.

“No, it is quite alright.”

“Good, now, follow my lead,” Cydnar stopped in his tracks for a few seconds to adjust the hilts of his sword canes and ensure every fold and pleat of his robes were perfect. Those first few seconds of an introduction were crucial in making an impression.

Dalasi has made no such preparations. He wore no overcoat, and had done nothing to polish his battered plate mail. The dark grey pieces were ornate, depicting many triumphs and victories of the Hummel over the centuries, but they were chipped, faded and held together by rotting leather. The swordsman carried his walking cane over his long, slender curved blade as one small concession to his brother’s diplomatic penchant. A bastard sword was strapped over his shoulder, polished steel laced with haematite strands and enchantments long dormant in a time of peace.

The muscles covering his otherwise lithe frame were all the protection against the cold the elf needed.

Cydnar approached the forge’s shop front. There was a large, more grandiose house to the left of the outer buildings. The heavy door was slid open, perhaps to vent the sweltering heat within. The front wall around the door was icy, and a large smoke stack protruded from the heavy wooden slats that made up the roof. Cydnar made no vector for the domestic half of the forge; he doubted he would be welcome to knock on the red painted door. As he stepped into the cover of the canopy, chuckling at the beer mug shaped handle of the Norland Forge's front opening. He felt a sudden rush of relief as the continuous snow fall was left behind. The swell of heat from the forge knocked the chill from his bones.

“Hello?” he half shouted.

Dalasi stood to Cydnar’s left, cane set into the woodchip and gravel to his front, held in both hands like a dapper gentlemen’s accessory. With the light from the building on the opposite side of the street falling onto their backs, their silver, flaxen hair glowed with the soft aura of moonlight and fire, and in that regal nature, they waited.

[SirArtemis]

Artemis stood up from behind the front counter as he heard the call of a customer. The pair of men who stood before him seemed inverted versions of one another and elven in features. One stood tall and straight wrapped in a brown fur overcoat and with a mythril tiara shimmering in reflective light of the forge's fires in the corner. His white hair sat perfectly along his flawless light skin and contrasted with his light purple eyes. Beside him stood a man who seemed as opposite as a man could be. His skin and hair were different shades of gray, and his set of armor and weapon yet another. Artemis couldn't help but smirk at the 'colorful' character.

"Welcome!" Artemis said, letting his eyes shift from one man to the next. "How may I help you?"

"Greetings," the crowned-man said, stepping forward. "I'm looking for a blacksmith named Artemis Eburi. I was hoping you would be able to aid me in that search."

"Well, I can definitely help with that," Artemis said with a smirk, "he's standing in front of you."

A relieved sigh escaped the light-skinned man as his darker partner lifted a skeptical eyebrow in doubt. "Well met, Artemis Eburi. My name is Cydnar Yrene, and this is my brother Dalasi." The gray man nodded as Cydnar gestured politely to him. "We are hoping that you can aid us in our plight, though we do not come empty handed of course."

"Sure," Artemis answered, expecting the typical order to be placed. "What is it you're looking for exactly? Perhaps a new platemail for your friend?" Artemis couldn't help but chide at the man, hoping to lighten his mood as he stood arms crossed, looking as if he were waiting for conflict to erupt.

Cydnar turned to Dalasi, hoping that his tense companion wouldn't be insulted by such a comment. "Well, we are looking for a man who can train our people in the art of smithing, and we have heard that you are talented in the art."

This time, it was Artemis who raised an eyebrow, partly due to the odd request, and partly wondering who would give him such a ridiculous compliment. "I don't understand," he said honestly. "So you are looking to apprentice for a smith?"

"Not quite." Cydnar couldn't help but let out a sigh, knowing that the request may seem bizarre to most. "My people seek to learn the traditional methods of forging weapons and armor, as our own methods are... suffering from certain circumstances."

Artemis leaned forward, placing his elbows upon the dark wooden counter and propping his chin up. "Well," he said, his head bobbing as he spoke, "that would depend on what kind of metal you're looking to use. Different metals have different methods of forging. Did you have anything in particular in mind?"

"To be honest, I know little of metal. I've heard some of the names: iron, steel, mythril - but I am unable to place the name upon anything tangible. Is there any way you could show me some of the options?"

"Of course," Artemis said, standing up and walking around the counter to a wall upon which hung countless weapons and armors for display. "Would you like to test them or do you feel your friend is better suited for that task?"

"I believe Dalasi is better suited for the task."

"Fair enough." Artemis turned, glancing at Dalasi again and noting the handle of a blade strung over his back. By the size of the handle, he discerned it to be a bastard sword, or a "hand-and-a-half" sword. He reached up for one made of steel and strode over to the gray elf, handing the blade to the man. "This is steel. It is one of the most common metals used in weapons and is a bit stronger than iron."

Dalasi took the blade from the sheath, which stayed in Artemis' hands, and swung the weapon around. He tested the weight, the design, the balance, and after a few twirls he handed the blade back to Artemis. Cydnar watched the display, and when Dalasi had finished, he simply shrugged. "It seems plain," the elf said.

"Right," Artemis said, returning the blade to the wall. "As I said, it's quite common, so plain is a good term to use." He took a pair of daggers down and brought them over to the man. "This light gray dagger is damascus, and is about the strength of steel; the advantage of this metal is that it imbues well with magic, though it is a bit more expensive to produce than steel." Again the elf took the blade, feeling it out and playing with it a bit. "In contrast, this dagger is dehlar. This metal is incredibly heavy, but for all of its weight, you get extraordinary magic-resistance. It's unlikely that many will be able to handle weapons of this weight well, especially if the weapon is large."

Much to his chagrin, after twirling the damascus blade, the unexpected weight of the dehlar almost caused Dalasi to drop the weapon, though he recovered quickly and tried to hide his embarrassment. "Yes, I can see what you mean," he said matter-of-factly. "This may not be suited for our needs, though the damascus is also acceptable."

Another trip to the weapon rack brought Artemis to his favorite metal, and the one that he used for his own weapons. He took down a masterwork short sword that he had crafted himself and walked over to Dalasi. He did not say a word, but simply extended the handle to the man with a smirk on his face. Much to Artemis' amusement, the man's eyes went wide with surprise as he pulled the white metal from its sheath. "This is mythril," he began, pride clear in his voice. "Personally, this is my favorite metal. It is exceedingly strong, despite the incredibly light weight, and allows for ferocious speed and precision of attack. It also is able to retain enchantments well enough and I've heard stories of ways to reinforce it with dehlar, though I haven't yet found the means myself."

The enthusiasm with which Dalasi twirled the mythril short sword and danced with the blade left Artemis and Cydnar both smiling with amusement for the normally colorless individual. After a few moments, he extended the blade to Artemis and turned to Cydnar, nodding at his friend.

"It seems mythril will be the metal we desire," Cydnar said with a smile.

"Keep it," Artemis said, handing the sheath to Dalasi and setting his hands on his hips; he didn't want to bring them the bad news. "Well, there's a slight issue when it comes to mythril - it's incredibly hard to come by, and as such, very expensive. Based on Dalasi's display, I'm sure he can appreciate why it is so sought after."

Cydnar's smile didn't waver as he pointed to his tiara. "Do not worry, Artemis. We will acquire the materials necessary. As I said, all we seek is someone to teach us what we do with it once we acquire the materials."

Artemis let out a laugh, letting his hands fall to his side. "Well in that case, how can I help?"

[Cydnar]

Cydnar watched his brother’s trials and tribulations with the various weapons put in front of him with a casual smile. Though the elf was martially inclined, he was merely here to facilitate the deal – it would be Dalasi, when he completed his training as a Salthias initiate that would be overseeing the military operations of the Hummel army. It would be his brother’s choice entirely what materials they acquired, and the manner in which the newly established citizen levies would be armed.

“Well,” the elf pulled back his head, the introductions settled and the anxiety in his ribcage fading on the merit of Artemis’ pleasant and approachable manner, “that is a complicated set of demands.”

“Only because my brother,” Cydnar darted the soldier a glance, who could only roll his eyes in response, “insists on buying the shiniest thing he can get his hard earned coin to deliver to him.”

“I do not,” he purred, “I just wish to make a business transaction amicably, to the needs of our kin.” Dalasi narrowed his gaze, which smouldered and pierced through Cydnar’s defences without much effort. He shook his head, folded his arms, and took a side line for his brother’s supposed dichotomy.

“Apologies, Mr Eburi. We have our differences my brother and I, but the needs of our people bring us together. It is those needs that have brought us here.” He produced from the folds of his coat a piece of parchment. It was folded in two, and sealed with a red wax seal depicting a coiled snake in the stamp. “This, when you get the opportunity, is the edict from the Royal Court of my Kin offering full charter to produce weapons of a suitable quality for three hundred bodies.” He offered it to the smith, who took it over the counter with the same smile he had kept whilst Cydnar rambled on.

“It is as good as our word,” Dalasi returned to the fore.

“Our word is all we have in these troubled times. War, Mr Eburi, has devastated our cities, massacred our populace and left us, to be frank, at a precipice between extinction and revival.” With every word, Cydnar came closer to questioning just how much he should tell the smith. On the one hand, if he used exposition wisely, he could solicit a sympathetic agenda and seal the deal he so desperately sought. On the other, if he raised suspicions in the man’s obviously passionate mind, he might shoot himself in the proverbial foot.

“The Hummel live in subterranean cities, housed within gigantic crystal geodes made of quartz, ithilimar, amethyst and granite. In those cities, we cannot use anything more than the absolute smallest quantities of metal. For over a millennia, we have formed haematite blades and armour,” he tapped the hilts of Altheas and Freya and then rattled his knuckles against his chest. He unzipped his coat, revealing the snake pattern on his hauberk.

“Haematite only has trace elements of what you would call steel and iron,” Dalasi continued. Whilst inexperienced with geomancy, he understood the make-up of his own weapon as if it were his own arm. “It is a valuable substance to us because we can repair and enchant it using geomantic techniques as good as you seem to think this,” he waved his finger at the dark, green heavy blade he had fumbled, “dehlar is.”

“Most importantly, we use Haematite and obsidian and other materials, because they do not attract the attention of the Umber Hulks.”

“You, Mr Eburi, do not ever want to meet an Umber Hulk.”

The smith folded his arms across his chest, almost as if he were issuing a challenge. Cydnar could see from the way the man handled himself in conversation, and from his knowledge of metallurgy, that perhaps Mr Eburi quite might like to have done so – he doubted though, wherever his mithril, prized in his collection would last against the atrocious appetite for metal the Umber Hulk possessed.

“We have lost many cities in the last century alone to these creatures. They are what you might call one of our mortal enemies,” Cydnar continued his relatively shortened tale with a heavy expression on his face. A man might have mistaken it for tiredness, or snow blindness, or mania, if he did not know the conversation that preceded its formation.

The snow began to fall heavily out in the street, a cold front swept up Cydnar’s back, which made him shiver. He cautiously stepped further inside.

"I'm familiar with war, "Artemis said with pain and regret clear upon his face, "I'll do whatever I can to help those who face war defend themselves. I hold no love for those who instigate such atrocious circumstances...so whatever I can do…” the offer had a hint of being a question laced in it.

Cydnar smiled.

“After being devastated by the Corpse War in Raiaera, my people can no longer sustain themselves in the Under Dark. Unlike your proud dwarfs’ soul, our resolve is not so strong, and our fondness for the shadows is not as resolute as it was during the zenith of our civilisation.”

Two grumpy looking dwarves barged in behind the elves, flapping their arms to pat away the snow that had started to cling to beard and bandoleer alike. There was much grumbling, and much dwarfish cursing as they wound through the elves, quite oblivious. The elf made a polite nod towards the two smiths, who gave him nothing more than an acknowledged 'lo'. He owed their kind many favours, not least because they pointed him to their prodigy, and to a man, that Cydnar felt, was perfect for their requirements.

He knew he would get no conversation out of them today, when a dwarf bore a grudge, it consumed him, and it was cold enough to bare a grudge. They retreated to the rear of the forge, and began preparing what Cydnar assumed were flagons of ale, pokers and the items needed to continue with their work.

The elf just knew Artemis was the one for their needs. He was not sure how.

“Thus we need to establish a colony on the surface, north on the border before the snowy wastes of Salvar melt into the outland of Berevar.”

“Teach us, Artemis,” Dalasi approached Cydnar and held out his hand, “the crystal…” he whispered.

Cydnar offered his brother the fragment of the World Tree and nodded. Dalasi turned, approaching Artemis with the offering held at arm’s length.

“Teach our artisans how to make weapons of mithril, so that we can defend ourselves against the Old Gods and behemoths of the snow wastes. Let us reclaim a place on the surface, before our own weapons fade and crack and die.” He held out the artefact with a smile, and its inner light, which was vermillion and turquoise, shimmered over his pallid skin.

[SirArtemis]

As the warrior elf approached Artemis with the glowing stone, the young man couldn't hold back a cock-eyed expression of confusion. "What's this?" he asked, taking the offering and turning it over in his hands. "It looks like a leaf of crystal." As he held the crystal, an odd sound resonated in his mind, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what it sounded like.

The comment perked up the ears of the Norlond brothers. "A leaf of crystal?" the dwarven pair said in unison.

Artemis turned, the same expression falling upon the brothers - Nalin having a trimmed beard of burnt orange, and Bazzak with a burly and full mustache that complemented his sibling. If one were to combine the two, they would have one fine looking dwarf. "Is this special or something?" he asked, his hand extending the leaf to the brothers.

Their eyes opened wide with surprise and excitement as they hurried over to their human friend. The pair looked silly, as they had not yet finished taking off their gear from the storm outside. Nalin still wore a wool hat over his shoulder-length hair and a glove on his left hand, while Bazzak waddled over with a boot on his right foot and the left completely bare.

Cydnar smiled, glad that the dwarves recognized the value of a leaf of Yggdrasil - he knew they would. "It is an offering," the elf said, bowing slightly to the pair. "In good faith, to show that we truly value your help, and do not take this task lightly. After all, it is to protect our people." As he said the words, the smile quickly disappeared, replaced by a face of determination and resolve.

"Ay," Nalin said, nodding at the elf. "We understand yer plight, but this doesn't help us find the mythril."

"Without the metal to hammer, there is no point to teach your people." Bazzak said, slipping off his other boot while his brother examined the crystal leaf.

"We will find the metal," Cydnar said, not a sliver of doubt in his expression. "Rest assured, whatever quantity of mythril you may need, we will be able to acquire."

"So is that stone enough?" Artemis asked, watching the conversation between the longer-living races intently.

"No," Nalin said quickly and shaking his head. "This stone is valuable, ay, but not a payment." Dalasi's eyes went wide, as if insulted, but Cydnar gestured to his brother to calm him. "This is not something we'd sell, as it's not somethin' a stranger deserves simply for having the coin. No, this is an offering o' faith, and we accept. We'll aid yer people in learning the ways o' smithing." Dalasi's expression visibly softened, and Cydnar smiled at the words, glad that the dwarves respected the offering, not just valued it. "But we'll need more," the dwarf continued. "The mythril that we'll use to train and arm yer people is yer responsibility, but our work will still be costly. If it's acceptable by yer terms, we'll discuss payment later, whether it's metal, money or somethin' else."

"I trust you will not take advantage of me or my people," Cydnar said, though realizing after that it was a moot point. Reaffirming his realization, he saw the dwarves raise an eyebrow, as if the inexperienced diplomat had insulted the honorable dwarves.

"We're businessmen, not thieves." Bazzak's claim had some anger in it.

"Of course, I'm simply being cautious. As I told you, my people are in significant danger." Cydnar hoped his claim would justify his behavior, as he couldn't afford to begin a new search for another blacksmith of this quality.

"Understandable," Artemis interjected. "So how are we going to do this? You need to find the metal and we need to start teaching your people. What happens first? What now?"

Cydnar, thankful for the change of subject and making a mental note to thank the human later, began to explain. "Well, I will begin the search for a rich mythril deposit right away, and will contact you once it is found."

"Where will we be training your people?" Bazzak asked. "We will need to begin preparations. Can you take us there?"

Dalasi visibly flinched, his lack of diplomatic experience showing as his natural protective nature for his people showed at the thought of bringing outsiders there. "Yes," Cydnar said, surprising his brother further. "Dalasi will escort you to our home, as you cannot enter without the help of one of our kind."

"No!" Dalasi argued, "I will not leave you! It is my duty to protect you!"

"I'll go with him," Artemis said, realizing that if the dwarves were gone, he'd be bored anyways.

"Maybe Jay will go with ye," Nalin suggested, referring to a beautiful Dark Elf ranger who was a friend of the group. "With her by yer side, ye'll be just fine."

"Not a bad idea," Artemis said, blushing visibly. "I'll go find her shortly and ask her."

"We are agreed then," Cydnar said, smiling and bowing slightly again. "Shall we meet in the morning? It is late, after all."

"Ay, we'll meet ye with all we need at the Bearded Gnome come sunrise," Nalin said, finally taking off his glove and hat. "Until then, we'd better prepare."

The dwarven brothers turned and headed to the back room, leaving Artemis with the two elves. "I'll meet you as well, along with another companion, the one they mentioned. We will keep you safe while your brother brings the dwarves to your city."

Cydnar nodded, though it was clear Dalasi was not yet convinced. However, he held his tongue - for now.

[Cydnar]

Later That Evening

The tavern called The Chastised Cleric was not as comfortable as Cydnar had been expecting. Then again, as he sat at the table nearest the roaring hearth of the large open fire, he was not sure why he had been so deluded to think Knife’s Edge would offer anything other than meagre sustenance and adequate rooms. It was a country in the throes of rebuilding itself after a long, bitter war after all. It was also predominantly inhabited by humans.

Given the Bearded Gnome was quite full of...dwarves, they had decided to stay elsewhere until they met in the soft and sickening light of the morning sun. When it was time, they would meet Artemis Eburi and his associates outside the tavern.

“Home comforts and hot food…it hardly seems appropriate to be partaking in such things given the purpose of our visit,” the elf mused. He lifted the folds of his robes so that he could fold his legs over the long bench that ran down one length, and he waited for his brother to sit on the stool opposite. The soldier’s back was turned to the fire, casting a halo of orange and crimson around the stone armour on his back.

“You are always so prudish, brother. Do you not need to eat to survive?”

Cydnar nodded.

“Do you not need to drink to stay strong?”

Cydnar nodded a second time, though with increasing sourness plastered over his face. It was a cold façade of suffering and contempt for his brother’s preaching, mixed with the still lingering chill in his bones from their brief walk back into the district away from the Norland Forge.

“Then stay your tongue and enjoy this time together. I dare say soon we will be so occupied with the preparations for the sundering we will sparsely have time to catch a dram or tear into a turkey leg.” Dalasi’s blasé attitude was augmented by his swagger, his catching of the barmaid’s eye and his cocky smile as he waved her over.

The tavern was fairly empty for the time of day, which Cydnar assumed was due to the casualties from the civil war and a more pressing need for the families of Knife’s Edge to conserve warmth and money. The pleasure on the girl’s face at having customers was plain as day.

“Welcome gentlemen, what can I get you?” her youthful smile was as bright as her pinafore, and just as tardy as the hem of her short dress, puffy and rumpled with white silk and tattered muslin pleats. Behind the freckles, there was a keen mercantile intelligence that was already weighing their purses up, despite them being tucked beneath the thick overcoat and purple cloth of their vestments.

“Two house wines, mulled if possible, and two plates of whatever meat and gravy you have to hand,” Dalasi replied, not giving Cydnar’s pedantry any chance to sour the moment. Dalasi’s eyes shone with a mischief the girl could only be transfixed by.

“Yes sir,” she made a flourish of notes on her small pad of paper with a cute, dyed miniature quill before she turned about on a heel and returned to the bar that ran along the north wall. She scooped up several empty tankards from long vacated tables into her strong fingers and winked at the lonely drunks still stooped at rickety tables here and there.

“She seemed…nice,” Dalasi chuckled, enjoying Cydnar’s social anxiety far too much.

“I am so please you think so,” the elf darted a glare at his brother, before finally relaxing. He undid the buckles of his overcoat and pulled it off. He dropped it onto the bench to his right, a bundle of thick tanned leather and fur trim bound in black wool. The fire was doing its job of warming him to the bone.

“It is only a few hours until sunrise, so I guess I should use this time to gauge your thoughts about this blacksmith of ours. What do you make of him?” Cydnar took to the political mantra without so much as a thought for observing their relaxed surroundings. Dalasi sighed.

“He seems the honest, hardworking sort. Most important of all, he does not seem like a man who would cross us. I think he agreed, from what I saw of him, because he loves to work with materials. It is a rare artisan indeed, one who crafts for the sake of crafting and not of coin.” Cydnar could sympathise with Dalasi’s observation.

There was a loud crash from the distant kitchen and a brief exchange between the waitress and what sounded like her father. Both the elves flinched.

“What about the dwarves?”

Dalasi frowned, “you know my feelings on our underground kin brother. They, unlike Mr Eburi, are very much concerned with coin. Lots, and lots, and lots of coin I would wager.”

Cydnar could not argue with his brother’s logic. Dwarves were usually friendly, truthful, honest, dedicated. On the other hand, they were also woefully narcissistic, immensely greedy and easily corrupted by the material desires that often spelled the downfall of the races of men. Bazzak, on the other hand, was a rare exception to the rule, and Nalin spoke better Common than most human commoners did. The kitchen doors swung open, and the last remnants of the debate drifted out into the tavern. The waitress appeared, back first with a twirl and waltzed over with a flustered smile. Her cheeks were red and her forehead was beaded with sweat.

“Do excuse my little agreement with the chef sirs, he did not appear to have any gravy, and he is rather grumpy to have make some from scratch at this hour,” she sliced the plates onto the table from the left edge and bowed. Her hands were rested over her front, as if she were waiting for something.

“We are very grateful for your service,” Dalasi said, quite forcibly, at the same time as he delivered a sharp kick to Cydnar’s shins. His brother whelped.

“What was…” he realised. “Oh, sorry miss, what will that be?”

The girl smiled, “two gold sirs.”

Cydnar rummaged in his robes and pinched a few coins from his purse. He weighed them beneath the cloth before producing them, and dropped two gold coins for their meal and a coin of silver for her trouble into her outstretched palm. Neither of the coins bore Salvar mint, but she seemed pleased for the custom and uncaring of where the gold came from. Just as long as it was worth its weight, it was all that mattered to keep life ticking over in Salvar’s harsh environment.

“Mulled wine is heating nicely, I’ll bring it out when it’s done,” she chirped, once more turning on a heel as if she longed to be a dancer before she waltzed back to the long mahogany topped bar.

“Well, brother, tuck in,” Dalasi encouraged, staring at his potatoes, mint gravy and what appeared to be a steak of something indiscriminate. He was so hungry he did not care what it was, as long as it was meat. “It is rude to look a gift gnome in the mouth.”

Cydnar’s face remained blank and irate for quite some time as Dalasi chuckled loudly at his own joke.

“I really hope you drop the gnome humour soon…” he grumbled, picking up a potato and popping it into his mouth in one bite. It was laced with garlic cloves, crushed into butter and spiced with cinnamon. It was instantly warming, and instantly invigorating.

As the brothers ate they waited for sunrise and their reunion with Artemis Eburi and the flame bearded brothers dim. Soon, they would delve into the shadows of the world to share the adventure that their mutual interests would bring them.

[SirArtemis]

It was dark. Very dark. But not a lack of light. The walls. The ceiling. They were all stone. Stone as black as a starless night. It glistened, reflecting the single and only source of light - a tree. A white tree, leafless and glowing off in the distance.

Artemis floated toward the tree, the temple walls dragging on endlessly into infinity behind him. He didn't remember entering the chamber, nor did he really know why he was here. Yet somehow he felt compelled to continue on. To move forward. The tree. He needed to reach the tree.

Time dragged on, but eventually he stood no more than fifty meters away. It was massive, shimmering white arms reaching out, naked of any foliage, spreading like a glowing web of power. He reached out, raising a hand as if he could grab on, and as he did, he watched a branch melt away.

The tip of the branch dipped, softening, lowering itself and straightening into a dangling string of white until it eventually fell off the tree and plopped onto the ground. The branch moved, slithering and winding down the top of the small hillock upon which the tree grew, gracefully making its way toward Artemis.

He stood there, unable to move, confused by his emotion. Should he be afraid? Should he run? But it was so beautiful. It was so powerful. He wanted to reach out. He wanted to touch the tree - to touch the snake. The beautiful white of the tree. It reminded him of something. Something that felt so familiar. But he couldn't remember what. He still reached out, but the snake moved closer. Just a meter away now, so close, so massive. Its head was the size of Artemis' torso, and it lifted up high, looking down on him, and as he looked back up to meet its gaze, staring into the slits of its eyes...

_____________________________

Artemis couldn't shake the dream from the night before - or nightmare. There was a familiarity to the whole scenario. He almost felt comfortable in that temple, by that tree and before that snake. It all seemed important, yet he did not know why - yet.

So, putting it aside for now, he went through his typical morning routine of breakfast, washing up and all the rest before stepping out in front of the Bearded Gnome where, as expected, Cydnar already waited.

"Good morning," he greeted, smiling at the man while he donned a pair of gloves for the brisk weather. "Did Dalasi and the Norlonds leave already?"

"Yes, they left shortly before you arrived. The dark elf woman you mentioned, Jay, she was also present. She said she would return shortly."

"And here I am," Jay said, as if on cue. Artemis' smile grew wider at the sight of her. Her thick white hair fell in waves along the side of her youthful and beautiful face, her lavender skin contrasting with the hair and her bright blue eyes. "So, where are we headed?" the woman asked, letting her eyes fall between the two men.

"I was hoping you would tell me," Cydnar said, his expression warm.

"Well," Artemis said, finishing with his gloves and slapping his hands together in a clap. "We could go to the mine we cleared out those few months back, the small cave of mythril. Maybe there is some in the area that we missed, that was hidden from sight."

"You know Bazzak and Nalin wouldn't let mythril go unmined," Jay said with a sly smile.

"Well, they wouldn't knowingly do so. Cydnar has implied that he has some ability to detect metal that goes a bit beyond even a dwarf's eyes or instinct. Let's find out if they missed something. Might as well give it a shot."

Jay shrugged and Cydnar smiled, appreciating the trust and faith that the human placed in him. "Well then let us be off," the elf said. "Lead the way, Mr. Eburi."

[Cydnar]

The prospect of even the smallest mithril deposit caused a riot of ideas to swirl around Cydnar’s cold and calculating mind. He analysed the probabilities and possibilities, formulating a plan within a plan within a plan as they advanced through the ruin of Knife’s Edge. With every step, he found himself increasingly withdrawn from the conversation that was on going around him.

He was not sure how far they had travelled, or for how long when he finally shook off his mastermind like state.

“Cydnar, I was just saying,” Artemis seemed pressed, as if he had been repeating himself for quite a distance, “Jay here is a dark elf…but she says she’s never heard of the Hummel. I thought you were a dark elf too?” the somewhat personal question sharpened Cydnar’s attentions, and he turned to look ahead to allow himself time to think.

“My people come from a Drow ancestry, but we have not taken that moniker for millennia now. We are half high, and half dark, bastard children of the kingdoms you may know as Alerar and Raiaera.” His dry tone left no doubt in Artemis’ mind that this was a sore point to press. The smith shrugged, and trudged on ahead.

Jay, remaining silent for the time being darted a secretive look of disgust behind her human companion’s back, which Cydnar uncouthly returned. He hated only two things more than he did the less liberal of the dwarves. One was Nidhogg, the Serpent Thayne who threatened his entire race, and the other was a dark elf. It was a long standing, and utterly unfounded prejudice.

He folded his arms across his chest, tucking each palm into the opposite sleeve and advanced with equal silence whilst Artemis continued to recount the long winded tale of his excavation. To Cydnar, the words were alien, unfamiliar, unheeded by relevance or reference. He could only continue to dwell on the strange dream he had the night before, in which the World Tree, Yggdrassil, had been approached by a most peculiar individual.

Artemis Eburi had touched the quartz bark of the most sacred of Hummel artefacts…and lived.

"Oh, and you should see the ore deposits in the northern tunnels, they glow when you touch them!" the man’s voice echoed off the walls of the tall steeples, half toppled as they left the industrial quarter and started to climb up the long slope that became more and more a part of the Ahyark than it did Salvar’s capital.

---

Dalasi did not like being away from his brother.

He liked having to babysit dwarves even less.

He especially did not like the way he had to travel into the city of Ict.

“I am afraid this will be…uncomfortable,” he mused, careful with his choice of words as he beckoned the dwarves into the small shack. It rested a few miles or so from the forge, one of the many hidden throughout Salvar that operated as last bastions against intruders. The glowing runes on the walls were the chamber’s only decoration, the soft light of heavy church candles, pilfered from the ruins of Denebriel’s cathedral were its only source of warmth.

“Greetings Captain Dalasi,” said the Watcher, who stood against the back wall unseen beneath a long and ceremonial robe of fuchsia and lilac. It was quite possibly plain white, but the magic that obfuscated the geomantic presence coloured it in strange, shimmering veils of splendour.

Bazzak and Nalin, quite uncomfortable already, gruffly glared at the stranger, and then turned about on their hobnailed boots to stare Dalasi down.

"Just how uncomfortable are ye talkin'?" Dalasi raised an eyebrow and leered over the end of his nose. “Nalin don’t do too well with…magic.” There was an obvious element of suspicion in the master smith’s voice that Dalasi could not help but smile at.

“I am afraid, gentlemen, that you will be quite used to travelling underground through tunnels and carts.” He moved to the centre of the hut, closing the door as he went. “The Hummel, however, bend the earth to our will.” He turned to face the dwarves, who had followed his flamboyant motion across the splintered and dusty floorboards. His nimble and pointed shoes left wet wedges on the dry panels from where the snow was quick to melt in the wave of candle heat.

“Bend it how?” they said in unison, horror visible on their chiselled faces.

“I say our, what I mean is his,” Dalasi dropped his arms to his sides and nodded at the Watcher.

Quite suddenly and without warning, the floor gave way. There was a deep, audible rumble that was heard not only in one’s earlobe, but in one’s heart, one’s soul. Dwarf and soldier alike quite literally dropped into the shadows of the earth. The sensation was akin to falling into a vat of smelted ore, though without the instantaneous death. Liquid rock gave way to the weight of the armour pressed down upon it, and guided by the watcher’s venerable skill with the geomantic arts; they plummeted with a tremor and a rocking, spinning nausea deep, deep, deep into the bowels of Althanas.

[SirArtemis]

The day had been long. The journey continued without much pause as the trio made their way across the frozen tundra of Salvar's colder season. The ground, frozen solid by the icy air and winds, made the trip a bit easier at the least. As the chill of night approached and the group settled in, a warm campfire was set to distance themselves from the darkness that crept on steadily. Artemis sat closest to the fire, slowly and methodically turning a spit over the mesmerizing flames that poked through a pair of hares that would be their dinner.

Occasionally, the young man would toss another dry piece of timber onto the flame, stoking the fire so that it wouldn't die out and so the food would cook faster. After all, things seemed a bit awkward as the three sat in utter silence. Artemis would look up occasionally, wondering why the others weren't speaking, and why they sat so far apart. And it wasn't just the physical distance - something seemed to separate the two in a way that a couple of meters could never accomplish.

"Alright then, out with it!" he said abruptly, surprising the two out of their own contemplations. "What the hell is going on that I'm so oblivious to?"

Cydnar looked upon Artemis with a blank expression, acknowledging only enough to show that he heard the young man. Jay's look held a bit more guilt, and a bit of sadness in her eyes.

"Come on, I can see it. Get it out." Still, the pair hesitated. "Look, if we're going to work together, then we can't let some invisible grudge keep us from looking out for each other. I know that my weapons are at the whim of either of you, and I'm ready to die for both of your sakes equally so, but if I can't expect the same from both of you, then we might as well turn back now."

The moment of silence hung thickly between them, as if the fire were making the air so dense and smoky that no one could see beyond the haze.

"I suppose you're right," Cydnar spoke, finally ending the uncomfortable moment. "I will offer my blade to either of you as well, but I will admit that I am distrustful of this one here," the man ended with a nod to Jay.

Jay snorted, as if expecting the comment. "Hummel trust no one."

"Can you blame us?" Cydnar retorted, venom in his voice.

"How do you expect to have anyone trust you then? You realize trust has to go both ways. Otherwise it's just a farce."

Cydnar offered a shrug. "We have lived many centuries in the service of Althanas, and we have sacrificed much. Yet despite all we have done, we see little in return from the surface dwellers."

"And what is it you want from us then?" Artemis asked, sincerely interested in the man's words.

"We do not ask for much, young Artemis. We seek only the acknowledgment of our deeds."

"What deeds exactly?" he asked.

Cydnar felt tempted to use the ignorance of the young human as evidence to prove his point, but knew that would not go far. After all, the young man was barely over two decades old. Instead, he decided the story needed to be told.

"Roughly two millenia ago, the first Hummel was born - a byproduct of cross-breeding between the high elves of Raiaera and the drow of Alerar. They had wanted more power, and thought that by mixing the two races, they would combine the innate magical powers of the individual races into one, creating a higher being.

"However, this did not end as intended - at least not exactly. Neither the power of the high elves nor of the drow were present in the newborn. Instead, my people were born with an affinity to geomantic magic. We were the worldweavers, born to be one with the planet we call our home - the Hummel.

"Decades passed before the experiment was discovered. Needless to say, it did not go very well. An uproar of some intensity ensued, and instead of the parents protecting their children, as one might expect, we were exiled - thrown aside and told never to return. And they had the audacity to claim it was for our sake, to protect us - the audacity of the high elves.

"Centuries more passed during which the Hummel were hunted down. Our cities were razed, our people murdered, our stories twisted. We became so hated that one would think we were a disease, out to infect and destroy, yet all we wanted was a place to call home and to be left to ourselves."

Artemis had taken the hares off the spit, serving them up to each and handed the portions out. He served up some hot tea to stem the chilly air and sat between the two elves. "Please, continue," he said, "unless you don't feel comfortable." Meanwhile, Jay sat quietly, staring down and picking at her food.

"It is fine. It is better that you know." He took a bite of the food, chewing through before continuing. "Eventually, my people grew tired of fleeing. Making a home upon the surface proved too challenging, and so we took advantage of the unintentional gift our parents had granted us - our geomantic magic. And so we dug, boring holes deep into the mantle of our planet and making our home deep in the Underdark, where the surface dwellers would leave us in peace.

"But we could not sit idly by, as we came to worship Yrene, the World Eater. Our Thayne used to swim beneath the crust of the world, eating the excess magic of Althanas to stop it from destroying itself, protecting the future of all. My people did what we could to help as well, coming to the surface to prevent magical excess and try to guide the races of the surface toward neutrality. And still, it wasn't enough."

Pain made its way across Cydnar's features as he continued. "The battle with Xem'Zund changed everything during the Corpse War."

"That wasn't so long ago," Artemis interjected, speaking through a bit of food in his mouth. "I was just a boy but it was still in my lifetime, yes?"

"Yes, just about two decades ago," Cydnar said with a nod. "During the Corpse War, we lost most of our army. I lost a brother, as well as my true love. Yet even those losses are dwarfed by the loss of our Thayne, who sacrificed himself to seal away Xem'Zund and protect Althanas."

Anger began to build in Cydnar's voice for the first time since they had met. "And still, though we lost our Thayne, though we lost our people, though we lost our homes and our history, we continue to give so much to protect Althanas and protect its people. Despite it all, we receive nothing but hatred from the surface dwellers. We simply deal with the dirty looks, the whispered words, and not a single bit of acknowledgment for what we have done and sacrificed for those who hate us. Is that not reason enough to be distrustful of those who live above? Is that not enough to distrust the woman who sits on the other side of you, who is half the blood that makes my people and yet still looks upon us as if we are a filthy mistake of the past they wish erased?"

"That's not true," Jay said softly, her voice wavering and tears welling in her eyes.

"Excuse me?" Cydnar said, his voice still angry.

"That's not true," she said louder, turning to look at Cydnar with a look of such pain and guilt that he backed down and softened his own features, confused by her reaction. "When I see you, I don't see a mistake, or a disease, or anything of the sort." She paused, letting the words sink in, for Cydnar and Artemis as much as herself. "I see a people who have suffered too much, and are lost to hatred of their own as much as to their hatred of the surface dwellers."

Cydnar reeled, as if the words had struck him to the very core. "Hatred of our own?"

"She's right," Artemis said, his own sad expression turned to Cydnar. "The way you talk about the surface dwellers, which I'm pretty sure include Jay and myself, as well as the Norlond brothers who are helping... it seems like the hatred you feel you receive, you return just as equally." Artemis sat back, looking up at the clear skies and the countless stars that shone above. Cydnar couldn't help but follow his gaze, often forgetting the dazzling beauty as he spent most of his time beneath the surface of the world.

"You know, I hated my father for years, thinking he had done something that turned out to not be true. But you know what helped me forgive him?" Cydnar didn't answer, but did look over at the young man. "It was that when I threw my hate at him, he didn't return it." Another silence hung in the air. "Hatred feeds on itself, building only more hatred. You can't expect things to change if you feed the very cycle of hatred you wish to avoid. Perhaps, in time, you can show people that you are not what they expect, and things can change. Just as your people surely teach others of their kind that the surface dwellers are hateful, the surface dwellers likely teach their children the same lesson. But the only way for that to change is if you prove those lessons wrong by not being the hateful person they expect, right?"

Artemis turned to Cydnar and smiled. Jay placed a hand upon Artemis knee, smiling through her tears at Cydnar as well. Yet for Cydnar, he turned his gaze up to the stars and sat contemplating.

'Perhaps the human is right,' he thought.

[Cydnar]

There were few words suitable that could describe the occurrence of passing through the crust and mantle of a planetary body. Even after a century, Dalasi hated the sensation he got whilst falling through the ethereal rock, soil and crystal. It was like being buried alive, but still being able to breathe. It was like being cast into an abyss, whilst still being able to see. As you fell, you felt all the strange emotions of darkness; fear, panic, terror, dread. You could see each and every inch of the rock as you went down, down, down into the dark. It amalgamated into a geological tapestry that, despite the gut wrenching after effects, was said to be quite worth the experience.

Even as a sub terrain race the Hummel were virtually and unilaterally all afraid of the expanse between their cities and the surface. Once a safe route from one to another was established, there were a few years of respite and assurance to be found. Because of the tectonic movement of the plates, and the vast behemoth like creatures that dwelt in the shadows beneath the world, there were always…dangers. Ict, the capitol of the Hummel’s dwindling Under Dark Empire had remained beneath Knife’s Edge for centuries.

The Watcher’s vigil had seen Hummel envoys and associates safely into the Hall of Welcome for three decades.

The dwarves of Kachuk, however, did not take so kindly to being in the earth. They felt very much at home beneath it, trundling with heavy, noisy footfalls through tunnels carved into the heart of Althanas and deeper still, but this was very much unnatural to them. Dalasi appeared through the roof of the ante chamber first, slowing with his feet dangling through the rock dome under the Watcher’s experience. He flopped onto the polished obsidian floor without much furore.

He started to dust himself down, removing the transcontinental lint from his shoulders with cocksure brushes with the back of his palm. It took several moments for the swordsman to realise that he was now quite alone.

“Oh dear,” he whispered, careful not to tempt fate too much. He looked up at the roof, the dark and polished granite of the upper dome of the geode undisturbed. The chalcedony shell of Ict had been weakened at its very uppermost tip, the one nearest the surface, in order to make the transition from the surface of Salvar into the vermillion holds easier on everyone. The felsic igneous structure of the inner layer of the geode often left a lemony taste in the mouth.

There was a faint sound, which sounded increasingly like screaming.

“Ah, they are alive, that is good,” the swordsman continued to make himself presentable. Beyond the ante chamber was the Helix, a double staircase that descended to the open dome of the Hall of Welcoming. It was designed to bottleneck the enemies of the Hummel if they ever found out how to penetrate the outer shell of Ict. It did nothing against the Umber Hulks, however.

Nalin appeared first, head first. He jolted as he was prevented from being flattened against the obsidian floor. Dalasi turned, rested his hands into the small of his back and cocked his head at the strange sight. There was a sly mean streak in the Hummel, who had rather hoped one of his unwitting companions would have received a stonier welcome than was custom.

“Never again…” he grumbled. He flopped down to the floor, twisting mid-air under the guidance of a geomantic pull. The Watcher possessed two abilities, the knowledge to craft thermal boreholes, and a telekinetic way with mithril. He drew, even from such a great distance on the links of the smith’s chainmail to drop him politely to the floor. “Never…again!”

Nalin’s complaint was broken only by the softer emergence of Bazzak. He landed smoothly next to his brother, and started to clean his own collection of lint and crystal flecks. It was a joke amongst the Hummel that every journey into or out of Ict collected a small fortune to the Fae, crystal obsessed inhabitants of the jungle lands of Dheathain. Dalasi tried to speak, but was interrupted by an all too familiar sound.

The Hummel had never seen a dwarf vomit before.

“Oh for gruff sake, Nalin, pull yourself together.” Bazzak shook his head. It was the sort of comment that undid some of the long years of prejudice that had formed in Dalasi’s mind. He grinned.

“I am sorry for the abrupt introduction to the thermal borehole, gentlemen. It is, I find, best to just get stuck into it. If I had told you both that you were,” he paused to let Nalin vomit bile, “about to drop through several hundred miles of solid rock, I do not think you would have been willing to continue.” A foul taste formed in the elf’s mind at the thought of the sick in the dwarves’ beard. He made a mental note to stop at the fountains on the skyway before introducing the pair to the Artisan Quarter.

“That is quite alright, Dalasi. It was…interesting. I have never seen the earth quite so, up close.” Bazzak stepped up sideways to his brother and slapped some sense into him. The heavy glove jolted his shoulder with half hidden disappointment.

“If you are both ready, I shall escort you down the Helix into the Hall of Welcoming.” Dalasi wrinkled his nose; he had never brought outsiders into the very heart of his people’s sanctuary before. “Whatever you do both, do not look down…” he turned on a heel and with the sound of plate mail scraping over itself, he waltz out of the small dome chamber. Bazzak and Nalin trailed after him with a chorus of shuffled, heavy footfalls and gagging. Dalasi thought they might like to take the easier route…

“Next time,” he muttered with relish under his breath, the stale air rushing over his face as he broke out into the cavernous expense of the Vermillion City.

[SirArtemis]

"How do you think Nalin and Bazzak are doing?" Artemis asked Jay as the trio finally encroached on their destination.

"I'm sure the boys are fine," she said with a smile.

Cydnar smiled too, though for a different reason; he expected the dwarven brothers hadn't handled the thermal borehole well.

"Yeah, I'm sure you're right," Artemis concluded. "Alright, the cave is just ahead. We shouldn't run into any trouble, but there's a chance something else turned the enclave into a home, so let's be cautious."

"I'll scout ahead," Jay said. She sprinted off, the white of her hair riding the wind of adventure like she was born for it.

"Alright, follow me," Artemis said to Cydnar. "There's a small path that follows the rock face from the north that we can creep along."

It was still daylight, making it rather easy for the pair to make their way, and since they didn't want to bother waiting for night for an unlikely encounter, they pressed on. Each step up the rocky outcrop was a frustrating one. The mud on Cydnar's boots, along with his physical exhaustion, left him exerting himself beyond what he normally would to climb a simple mountain base. Artemis had less trouble, as the magic of his boots changed to a more adhesive texture so that he could climb more easily.

After a short while the pair made their way to just a few meters north of the entrance to the cave. Artemis drew his bow and glanced up to the top of the opening where Jay lay flat on her belly looking over the edge. The entrance was about four meters high and double that wide. She held up three fingers of one hand and made an 'O' shape with her other hand to signify orcs.

"It seems a few came back," Artemis whispered to Cydnar, who held his hands on his blades and at the ready.

Jay sprung up to her legs and drew her bow, notching an arrow and nodding to Artemis. He drew an arrow of his own and stepped out around the corner while Jay dropped down from her perch and landed lightly on her feet. At once, they let their arrows fly, picking off the orcs to the side and leaving the middle one alone and confused. He stood up quickly from the campfire that the trio had encircled, cooking their dinner, and glanced around anxiously hoping for some sort of escape.

Of course, one came, but not in the form he had thought. Jay had already set another arrow in place and let fly. The projectile drilled itself into the center of his skull, dropping the green-fleshed and smelly humanoid to the hard-packed ground and leaving him there to rot.

"Well that was impressive," Cydnar said, though whether out of politeness or true awe was not quite clear.

Artemis smiled in response, setting his bow back in place and walking over to the orcs to ensure a merciful death. "We've had some practice." After a few quick pierces of his dagger, Artemis returned to the side of Cydnar, as well as Jay. "So, this is where we found the mythril. What now?"

[Cydnar]

Nalin and Bazzak gasped with admiration as the party broke out onto the opening platform. Ahead there were two staircases, descending down from what Dalasi guessed was a thousand feet. The stairs were gravity defying, tethered together by the artistic talents of the Hummel’s geomantic architects.

“This staircase,” Dalasi spread his arms wide as he approached the left set, “was built three centuries ago to separate the entrance chamber behind us from the Hall of Welcoming below.”

He began to descend, and the dwarves followed dutifully. Their mouths were open in awe, which was a rare and treasured thing for Dalasi to witness.

“H-how?” Nalin mumbled, puke stained beard and armour creating an aura of aloofness Bazzak scowled at. “This is remarkable, even to us.”

“It is by geomancy, my good man. The hum of the radix at the heart of the city keeps the echoes of the artisan’s power in place. We can, if the need arises, disintegrate the stairway in a heartbeat. That makes it virtually impossible for the city to be either taken by surprise or, for that matter, besieged.” He left out the part about the inherent weakness to Umber Hulks. The sense of urgency as they entered Ict made Dalasi nervous.

He was never nervous.

“What is the Hall of Welcoming?”

“The Hall is an amphitheatre which stands on the top of the central tower of the High Palace. From there, we can vet newcomers to the city and guide them out into the geode’s expanse to the correct district.” He pointed to the various clusters of purple lights that twinkled in the cavernous expanse of the geode. “We have residential districts to the east, and down there, the Artisan Quarter, store houses, and of course, there are several places I cannot tell you about. Each sky way acts as a tether to the central hub of the city.”

Nalin and Bazzak stopped as they reached the halfway point too peer down into the shadows. Below, they could see a bird’s eye view of the High Salthias Court. It was an immense, sprawling complex, a cluster of domes, needle thing spires and vast fire pits that burnt with the intensity and ferocity of a dying sun in the dark.

“Cydnar always spoke of this place, in his lofty airs and graces.” Bazzak chuckled; his voice was coarse and dry in the swallowing silence. They hurried on, realising their admiration had caused a rift between themselves and their guide.

“Come, come, gentlemen,” Dalasi turned the last curve in the stairwell as the tall spires of the amphitheatre began to encase them in an imposing architectural wonder. There were sixteen tall obsidian needles on the outskirts of the wide, circular platform. Dalasi’s boots touched the surface, and no sooner than they did, vermillion sigils and glyphs ran out over the surface of the hall to the very edges. There was a soft hum in the air, as if the geode itself were coming to life.

“These depictions, amidst the spirals and art of our finest crafters, detail the long history of our city.” He waved his hands dutifully over the largest of the images at his feet. It showed a coiled snake about a large geode, in which a tall tower, topped by a flaming eye glowed with inner light. “From the first days of our people, when Yrene embraced us in the dark as exiles,” he pointed to the far southern rim of the platform, “to the recent years when we fell into decline, “welcome, Nalin and Bazzak, to Ict.”

Both dwarves shone in the updraft of vermillion light, and continued to shine with purple afterglow as the sigils and glyphs faded back into their dormant etching in the thick, dense obsidian that felt like water underfoot.

Dalasi waited a few moments for the awe to fade before he trailed away to the only visible exit from the Hall. “This way, we move now to the Nexus, where the eight sky waves converge and the first of the many fountains that pump thaw water from Salvers steppes awaits to provide…” he glanced over his shoulder at Nalin, “appropriate sustenance and refreshment.”

[SirArtemis]

As the trio stood within the now-safe cave, it seemed that it was Cydnar's turn to do some of the work. From a pocket he produced a small crystal sphere, held it in his hands and closed his eyes. The small quartz seemed meaningless to the human and dark elf, but to a Hummel of Cydnar's power, this was a trinket of incredible potency. Throughout the crystalline structure were minute and pinhead-sized markings - undetectable by the eye but each unique and significant to the geomantic abilities of the Hummel. This stone worked as a database, retaining unique markings of every contact that Cydnar had ever encountered, and allowed for him to produce a telepathic link between himself and that individual.

Within a few seconds, a purple and violet mist formed beside the man, blinking open like the slit of a large dragon and stretching nearly three meters tall before solidifying into a humanoid shape. What stood beside the Hummel was a tall figure dressed in black and white robes. A hood covered his face leaving only a mouth visible, which seemed terribly pale to Artemis.

"Kyorli, I have a task for you. We seek a deposit of mythril deep beneath us. Can you see if such a deposit exists?"

"As you wish," the figure responded, stretching out his arms as a pale glow formed around what were surely his hands. His tall frame knelt down, touching upon the ground and sending out a ripple, causing Artemis and Jay to hop back cautiously. It was as if the ground had turned to a pool of water made of liquid rock. Cydnar simply looked down, a look of determination upon his face.

Moments passed and the creature spoke again. "High Salthias, there is an anomaly beneath us. Would you like to investigate?"

"Yes Watcher," Cydnar responded. "Take me and my two companions down please. We must be quick, as you are aware."

"As you wish," the watcher responded. His hands glowed brighter as the ripples expanded, and before Artemis or Jay could jump back again, their feet dropped into the pool and they were sent down through the ground.

Artemis and Jay were dragged into the very earth of Althanas, spiraling and twirling under immense pressure and warmth. Their heads throbbed and muscles ached as their eyes, wide with surprise and almost panic, watched each other. Thankfully, it only lasted for a few seconds before they were plopped into what looked to be someone's home.

"Is this your doing?!" a man yelled, pointing to a lump of mythril that sat in the middle of his small chamber. The man wore a snug tunic and trousers of sifan cloth, the rich black creating a stark contrast to his gray hair and beard. His lengthy mustache implied that normally, there would only be a mustache on his face, and Artemis assumed the man would also have taken better care of his wildly growing hair.

The room itself was small and singular - it was a hole that functioned as an entire home. All the necessities were scattered about the room, though not in the most expected of places. On one end of the chamber was an alchemist lab, shelves peppered with ingredients, scrolls, tomes and vials. On the complete opposite side rested the bed, and as simple a bed as any could find. There was no frame - simply a fluffy pad set upon the ground with a sheet and pillow. Directly beside that bed stood a tub made of quartz, which was a bit bizarre given the transparency, but it didn't seem like anyone would watch. Most bizarre was the toilet that was just a short distance from the alchemist table, set almost in the center of the room, which had now been crushed by a dwarf-sized boulder of mythril.

Meanwhile, Artemis and Jay were hunched over on hands and knees, recovering from the brief journey. "My apologies," Cydnar said with a bow, apparently not at all fazed. "We were in search of a deposit of mythril and did not expect to encounter someone living this deep underground in such an isolated pocket. Our borehole happened upon you by chance, we did not intend to do harm."

"Well you did!" the man said, clearly agitated. He seemed anxious, as if this were not the thing that set him into a foul mood. "You broke my toilet! As you can imagine, I need that!"

"Yes, again, I apologize. We would be happy to compensate you for your trouble. If you would like to keep the mythril, we can shape it into something a bit more suitable for you, which you can later sell on the surface."

"What do I need money for? I need a toilet!"

"Right. Again, I apologize." It was then that Cydnar noticed that the toilet too had been made of quartz, and so he reached into his pocket, pulling out the small orb again, and within a second, the block of mythril floated up and out of the room, pushing through the roof as if it were nonexistent. Cydnar knelt down, touching the scattered rubble and all in the room gazed in awe as the pieces pulled back together, reforming into their original shape and setting down as the toilet. "Hopefully this will suffice. If there is anything else I can do, please let me know. We did not mean to intrude."

"Well," the man said, clearly flustered that his points of irritation had been removed so easily. "I suppose I could use a dozen new vials. Can you manage that?" His words were said as if he didn't think the Hummel could do it, expecting that his power was limited to reconstruction. Yet within a moment, Cydnar strode to an open table and placed his hands upon it, where two dozen vials of different shapes and sizes formed of quartz upon the surface.

"Will this do?" he asked with a smile.

"Why... yes... yes that's fine," the man said, his anger waning quickly. "Either way, tell me why you are in my home. I feel I deserve to know."

"As I said, it was simply a mistake. We were seeking mythril and the watcher's borehole happened through your home. It was completely unintentional and unexpected. We did not imagine someone would be living here."

"Well I am!" he said quickly.

"What are you doing here?" Artemis asked, finally recovered from the aftereffects of being transported through the borehole. "And how do you breathe?"

"I have an air recycler, as well as a food conjurer and a warp hole to get rid of my excrement and so on. I don't need anything else."

"Well you needed more vials."

"I didn't need them, I wanted them. There's a difference."

"Right. But you still haven't told me what you're doing here."

The man let out a puff of frustration before he turned around, heading to his alchemist table and setting his hands down. His gaze rose to a painting that hung just above it; it was a portrait of a beautiful young woman. "I'm conducting research," he said sorrowfully.

"On what?"

"On none of your business, young man!" he turned and shouted. "You're decades too young to be expecting answers from me!" The man felt foolish a moment after his outburst as he noticed the smirks on the clearly older Hummel and dark elf in the room. He let out a sigh, admitting his defeat. "I lost my daughter recently. I'm seeking a way to bring her back."

[Cydnar]

The air in Ict was, to an outsider, thick and stagnant. It did not feel like it was beneficial to the lungs, but somehow, through strange convection, it was recycled through the igneous vents and replenished through genius and luck. Dalasi could only beam with pride as the trio advanced over the Hall of Welcoming’s polish floor, through the long tunnel and out into the Nexus proper.

“Here we come to the diverging, where the heart vents its life force out into the beating muscle.”

The entrance tunnel gave way and the trio came to another open and circular platform. Nalin and Bazzak trundled behind their guide, oohing and aching at the heavily serpentine décor that covered every possible nook and cranny. Even the guide rails, designed to prevent newcomers from tumbling into the abyss were long snakes draped over tree carvings of varnished pine. Snake symbology was quite immutably everywhere.

“Which way do we go?” Bazzak grumbled. Though his enthusiasm for the new discoveries he and his brother were experiencing together had been considerably stronger than Nalin, Dalasi could see, from a quick glance, that his amateur dramatics were losing their sway. He silently wished he had not listened to Cydnar’s insistence that they part ways. His brother was the diplomatic, the oratory king. Dalasi’s only talent rested in the swing of a blade and the application of his traditionalist mind to the ebb and flow of battle.

“That way,” he pointed a pale white digit to the slender bridge to the west. It snaked in a winding arc over the darkness, and vanished into the distant solitude of the artisan quarter.

“What will we find on that road?” Nalin hazarded a question.

“There we shall find, waiting patiently, the finest artisans and academic minds we have to spare. They wait for,” he looked over his shoulder, “your instruction, Master Nalin, Master Bazzak.”

With their egos swelled, sated and bound in happiness, Dalasi urged them on to the sky bridge. They stopped at the first curve, stumbling across a small fountain that seemingly produced water from thin air. If the dwarves ever garnered enough trust from his brother, he might instruct them on the secrets of the aqueducts that channelled water, the source of life, through the cavernous expanses of the capital city. They paused for a few minutes to allow Nalin to clean his beard, and then wound out over the bridge in silence.

Every footstep echoed like a clap of thunder. Each heartbeat beat in its owner’s chest like a crack of lightning.

[SirArtemis]

"You know resurrection is forbidden, and impossible," Jay began. "Even if you accomplish it, the true self of the one you bring back is always lost."

"Hence why I'm doing research," the man said brusquely. "I will find a new way - a better way." The pain on his face ended the conversation, as the three visitors saw it was not their place to advise the man otherwise. Perhaps this was simply his way of grieving. "Look," he sighed, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so rude. This is very much unlike me. I've been isolated for quite some time and I never expected visitors in a place like this, obviously. Here, let me make it up to you. You, young man, those blades you have. They're enchanted quite powerfully, yes?"

Artemis glanced down at his twin mythril daggers, Virtue and Justice, and then looked back at the man. "Yes, but why?"

"I'm an enchanter and alchemist. If you'll let me, I can bi-layer enchant your weapons to make them even more powerful, and with a quick alchemical coating of dehlar, I can seal in the enchantments and make them impossible to remove, which will be useful in any serious battle as well as provide you with some magical defense to the blades." Artemis stood stunned, confused by what the man had just said. "Just hand them here and you'll see. Consider this my apology, as no harm has been done. I simply over-reacted."

Artemis handed the blades to the man, though hesitantly, and as the old man took them, he quickly got to work. He removed the blades, setting them side by side on the table and out of their sheaths. He set his hands on the blades, sensing the magical energy's form and strength. "Right," he said, as he began to scurry about his lab, taking ingredients from this shelf and that and setting them all by the weapons. "Which weapon is used in your main hand?" he asked as he looked at Artemis.

"Virtue. I use Virtue in my main hand."

"Virtue, yes," the man said with a smirk, turning back to the blades and finding the engravings upon them. His hands went back to work, setting down upon the blade of virtue as Artemis and Jay watched with intrigue. A red mist formed around the blade before embedding itself into the white metal, turning it a dark red. Then his hands went to the other blade, Justice, and a colorful mist of yellow, blue and red swirled about before embedding into that weapon as well, leaving it peppered with the trio of colors. "There," he said, scurrying about again as Artemis and Jay stepped back to get out of his way.

He took a black vial from a shelf, bringing it forth and then popping the cork open. He began to wave his hands, chanting quietly under his breath as the liquid lifted out of the small vial, snaking and dancing in the air as it split and slithered toward the respective blades. It curled around the metal of each weapon, constricting around it and tightening until it set itself in. As the vial emptied finally, the two blades appeared black as night, with a matte finish.

The old man smiled at his work, proud and relieved that the many months he had spent researching had not caused him to weaken or forget some of his earlier endeavors. Meanwhile, Cydnar stood in the back of the room, anxious to be on with it.

[Cydnar]

Meanwhile

It took almost a full solar day for Dalasi to show the full extent of the Artisan Quarter to the dwarves. He ventured through vast halls full of crystalline statues and stone edifices to the snake god Yrene, waltzed from orderly’s of golden coloured crystals decking the dome with moving, actual representations of the stars and, as they approached the end of their grand tour, they entered a massive hangar type structure at the bottom of the sub-city.

Here, there were seven forges, obsidian vessels for constantly boiling magma and lava, swirling about like vibrant torches. They were all clasped with high density quartz, which Dalasi explained was enchanted with the strongest and oldest magic known to the Hummel. It was designed to keep the presence of the ore and smeg hidden from the immaculate snout of an Umber Hulk.

It would be the only way the dwarves could produce the armour and blades required safely. With it, the Hummel could guarantee that production could continue long after the dwarves had left the halls of Ict. The forges themselves, Dalasi explained, would be brought out of the Artisan District and be transported to the heart of the new Hummel capital, to keep the hopes of their kin ablaze on the frozen steppes of Berevar.

The dwarves grumbled between themselves as they took it all in. The soldier had no doubt they were calculating cost, labour required, difficult of the job and all the other mercantile elements to a transaction Dalasi had no patience for. He let them continue with their questions, and answered them as best as he could. At times, young and eager and bright eyed apprentices left their forges, downed their hammers and offered their services to the dwarves. There was much shaking of hands, patting of backs with a stoop and encouragement. Nalin and Bazzak were naturally charismatic at the centre of the attention.

Breaking out on the far side of the Forge Father’s Hall, Dalasi brought the dwarves to what they had no doubt come to see. Resting on the vast circular balcony were thirty or so stone chairs, emblazoned with dark purple cotton tabards that glowed with the light of the many glow spheres that bobbed back and forth overhead. On the far side of the balcony, which was a good two hundred feet wide at the centre, there were two pedestals on a raised platform. Dalasi did not feel the need to explain why the chairs were turned to face the lecterns, or why there were white boards, smithing equipment and anvils and hammers next to each of the cold thrones.

Here, on the balcony that looked out over the strange spire riddled lake at the very bottom of the cavernous geode, with cities and towns suspended far above like suns in the darkened sky, the Norland brothers would bring industry back into the Under Dark, where for too long, it’s people had lived in fear of the children of Nidhogg.

[SirArtemis]

"This is fantastic!" Artemis said, glancing at the blades. "But what did you do?"

The man glanced at the weapons in admiration of his own work. "Your blade of Virtue now has the ability of vampirism, and can seep life energy from your opponent. Not only can it be used to help you recover from your own wounds, but it can also be used simply to threaten them into submission, as the pull of the blade's powerful energy will strike horror into your enemies." Artemis' eyes went wide with astonishment as the man continued. "Your other blade, Justice, will now be infused with the power of the elements, conjuring fire, frost and electricity at your will, in any combination; though of course, using two simultaneously, and three especially, will require practice and concentration on your part.

"And finally, I've coated them as I told you, with the thin layer of dehlar that will enhance your weapons' balance as well as seal in the magic infused into the blades, preventing it from ever being removed. The dull finish is to ensure that no one catches a glimpse of light off the edge of your blade before it strikes, making it a weapon of frightening potential."

Artemis took the blades, cautiously, as if half expecting them to suddenly be more delicate than a string of crystallized sugar.

"Don't worry, they won't hurt you, as they are bound to your will. I was careful not to touch the handles of the blades, and now that you've touched them, they are attuned. Use them wisely."

"Artemis, we must go," Cydnar interjected, clearly experiencing a bout of impatience at the diversion. "My people are in urgent need of this mythril, and days have already passed. Surely the Norlond brothers are eager to get started."

"Right," Artemis frowned, wanting to know so much more about this strange hermit hidden in the rocks. "What's your name by the way?" he asked, suddenly realizing they had never been introduced.

"Ah, of course," the man chuckled. "Forgive me. My name is Tinker Rythadine, a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Artemis Eburi," the young man answered, shaking the alchemist's hand. "Truly I'd love to stay, and I can't even begin to thank you for what you've done. We apologize again for intervening. If you're ever on the surface again, do seek me out."

"You're more likely to find me than I find you, believe it or not," the man answered cryptically. "Still, your friend seems anxious. On your way then."

"Right," Artemis said with a frown. "Thank you again. I wish you well in your research!"

With that, the watcher's magic reached down and tugged on the three, bringing them back up into the safety of the cave where the three orcs still lay.

"Kyorli," Cydnar began, turning to the watcher as soon as the three had made it back up through the borehole. "We must not waste time. The mythril has been found, and we can create all we need from the deposit. Let us return to Ict and inform the geomantic excavation teams."

"As you wish," the watcher answered yet again, and before Artemis or Jay had time to fully recover from the terribly discombobulating journey, they were pulled back under and sent through the winding underground. The trip took many times longer than the one just below them, leaving them feeling exceptionally ill upon arrival.

Yet Cydnar didn't seem to even notice, nor care. They had landed into the ante chamber, a large domed room of rock, and the Hummel quickly made his way out, dusting off his shoulders and robes as he walked. Artemis and Jay, blinking to fix their vision and tightly holding their stomachs, as if half expecting their innards to fall out, did their best to follow.

As the man strode briskly, the two tried to follow without being distracted by the absolutely massive and beautiful architectural design of the city of Ict. Very few humans had ever, or did ever, see the inside of this city. In fact, few outsiders at all would ever know that the city of Ict existed, let alone what it looked like, yet the impact of that notion did not have time to settle in on the visitors.

They wound through bridges and paths under glowing lights and pathways, and Artemis began to feel a vague familiarity and comfort within the massive city. The obsidian stone and the serpentine architecture - it almost felt like home to him; he didn't have time to think about it now, so he shook it off, hurrying on.

If the two could have seen Cydnar's face, they would have seen a man who was no longer a diplomat - he was not a ruler; he was a king. Granted, one of four kings, but that did not diminish his position and the importance of the role he played in protecting his people. Their lives were at stake, and no more time could be wasted. They must prepare.

After what felt like an hour of walking and winding, which clearly emphasized to the pair following the immense scale of the city of Ict, they had finally reached what looked like somewhat of a residential district. Had they been more familiar with the architecture, they'd realize that this was where the nobility and politicians spent most of their time.

"Dalasi!" Cydnar called, recognizing his brother. It seemed the man had been anticipating Cydnar's return, and waited anxiously, along with two other Hummel in matching uniform.

"Did you find it?" Dalasi asked, hurrying up to his brothers side and keeping pace with the man's stride, leaving the two guards trailing just behind.

"Yes. Contact the geomantic excavation teams. Give them these coordinates and send them off immediately," Cydnar said, handing his brother a scroll. "Where are the Norlond brothers?"

"They've begun preparations in the Artisan Quarter," Dalasi replied, handing off the scroll to one of the guards. "They are nearly ready to begin. As soon as the mythril arrives, we will begin in full."

"Excellent. Have the guard show Artemis and Jay to the dwarves. I must speak with the other members of the council."

"Of course," Dalasi said, turning and nodding to the other guard.

The guard stopped, quickly spinning on his heel and extending his hand to halt the human and dark elf. "Please follow me," the Hummel said, a bit of scorn on his face.

The walk took nearly half an hour from where they were, but when they arrived, they were further astonished by how much had been done in such a short time.

"By the Thayne, you two have been busy!" Jay said, looking out on the open area of the Artisan Quarter where dozens of forges and anvils were set in rings about a central forge. "It looks like a massive lecture hall."

"Ay," Nalin said with a nod, scratching at his beard. "These lads work quickly. We showed them what we'd need and they moved faster than deer that've spotted their hunter. Just waitin' on the mythril and we'll get started right away. They seem like eager students."

"What are we going to be doing?" Artemis asked, looking at the impressive display.

"You'll be heading back, lad," Bazzak answered with a nod. "We made a deal, and we plan to keep it. It will take months at a minimum to train and arm the men of this city, and we have to follow through with our contract. We don't back down on our word."

"Can't I help?"

"You've done your part, Artemis," Bazzak continued. "We've already been told that the mythril has been found and will be excavated immediately. Not sure where you'll find enough to make as much as we need, but they seem pretty sure of themselves, and after their display of preparation, I'm not one to doubt them."

"What about the forge?"

"It'll be fine. Feel free to use it and look out for it. Just let the others know that we'll be gone for a while longer than we'd expected. Besides, this job should pay for much more than any business we could have done in the same amount of time, so it'll work out just fine. If all goes well, we'll be able to continue construction on the new town once we're out of here."

Artemis nodded, thinking back on the many people who sought refuge from the troubled life of Knife's Edge and were eager to start anew far away from the city's walls. He was one of those people, as were the rest of those closest to him.

"Alright, it's your decision," Artemis said with a nod. "We'll head back then and let the others know. Get in touch if you need anything from us."

"Ay, we'll see ye soon lad," Nalin said, reaching out a hand for Artemis to shake. Instead, Artemis came forward and gave the bearded dwarf a hug, which Nalin returned with a chuckle and pat on the back. Artemis then gave Bazzak a hug of equal vigor, while Jay did the same for Nalin, and soon after the group had parted ways.

With the guard's escort, they had made their way back to the domed ante chamber where the watcher still waited. "Back to Knife's Edge, please." Artemis said, looking up at the terribly tall figure.

"As you wish."

[Cydnar]

Epilogue: Raiaera, the End of the Corpse War


When Cydnar opened his eyes, it was not Althanas he saw. This new world was unfurled before him, like a tapestry of many colours; a strange and alien landscape, devoid of the comforts and idolatry he had come accustomed to. This was an illusion, a false existence, a lie. He scanned the horizon with distant eyes that seemed to be unable to focus, trying to make out the shapes that blotted the terrain; he saw something, and almost screamed.

But no sound emerged, leaving the elf to wallow in his fear without a release, without the ability to express. His resolve in the cavern amidst the treachery and hatred had been steeled by his will and his belief in doing the right and just thing. He remembered falling, tumbling to a cold and sudden resolution, but in this strange land, was he alive, or just dreaming? The great tree that slowly grew turned his fear into terror, and he watched its uppermost branches rise and rise into the clouds far above, so that it resembled at last a king donning his regal and ethereal crown.

The tree was Yggdrassil.

Cydnar ran forward with all his might, his hand outstretched and clamouring for its salvation as he went. In the legend of his people, this tree, the source of all creation would perish at the hands of Yrene, the World Snake, at the end of time as it was known. Such was the providence of the tree, that its form was known on many worlds far beyond Althanas, by myriad names; but its purpose was immutable, its destiny concrete.

As he approached, Cydnar caught a glimpse of a shadow at its foot, taking a stance in the gnarled roots and the foliage of creation. He did not need to speak his name, and pattered out the syllables harder and faster as he closed the gap; each step brought him closer to the realisation, and each step brushed past reeds and wheat and grasses from all manner of places he nor any other soul would see again - if they did not succeed in rekindling the flame they fought for.

“All your effort for nought, rendered insane and dire by the simplest of facts.” Xem’Zund’s voice permeated the very fabric of the dream, rocking Cydnar’s mind and causing his body, even in its lifeless state to twitch and convulse with disgust.

“What facts do you possess that could strike me down, sorcerer?” His foot connected with the outer tendril of one of the roots, and he began his ascent up to the clone with nimble grace and agile perception, hoping left and right and climbing like a monkey through the densest and most primal of jungles.

“I have all the time in the world, time neither you nor any of your puppets can claim to possess,” with the goad came a long and gentle breeze, carrying a hint of cinnamon, thyme and lavender with it.

“You have taken all I care for, destroyed all those I would share my time with, no matter how short!”

“So why continue?” He raised an archaic hand as an expression of danger, and let loose a single black orb, much weaker than any other but one which still possessed the power of absolute finality. “Why waste your moments in toil with me?”

Cydnar’s eyes keened onto the orb and he ducked, dropping to a stance similar to a jaguar hunting its prey. The orb whistled other head, its path sucking the non-existent air from his lungs and sending tingles of foreboding closeness down his spine. He waited for the silence to return, and looked up.

“Because I would do no other thing with it, and I will make this moment, this hour golden!” He sprinted on, closing the gap between the two dream projections of mentality. He could see the once white centre of Xem’Zund’s eyes and began to feel sorry for the drab and lifeless creature. To think that such a thing once was mortal, once had dreams he could call his own, aspirations and culture and fears to cling to…

“So feeble, so easy to manipulate, so easy to crush!”

As Cydnar leapt onto the same branch as Xem’Zund, and drew his swords to form a cross before his advancing and nimble form, the necromancer held his right hand palm facing the elf, and punched backwards with his left. His claw like fingers slammed against the ancient bark of the World Tree, and Cydnar jumped into the air to perform a coup de grace.

The rush of air and explosive force that rocked the bark echoed in Cydnar’s chest for decades to come in a moment of simple revelation and shock. Xem’Zund shattered his own mortal body, even if false, and sent his corrupting life-force into the living embodiment of life. The mists that covered the tops of the tree rushed outwards, as if repulsed by some unseen hand, as if sickened by the mere thought or smell of the necromancer’s taint. The telekinetic force which grasped Cydnar forced the elf’s head up, so that he could behold the spectacle.

Nothing happened, and the silence grew deafening.

A single crack formed on the surface of the bark, slowly widening before rushing upwards. As if the tree had been struck by lightning, black ooze rushed out of the fissure and great cracks of thunder dropped from overhead. The death and decay tore at the heavier branches in the canopy first, rotting the wood so that the foliage simply buckled and began to fall away in a plume of autumnal regret. Then the birds nesting in the heights scattered, and the creatures in the roots scurried away like a blanket of teeming chatter.

Cydnar watched Xem’Zund’s display of power and realised that this was not the world tree’s fate, but the fate of all of Althanas if they did not bring the light to the cavern, if they did not persevere. The branches continued to fall, and the clone relinquished his grip at the same time as one great and burning plume fell into alignment with both of them.

The elf fell forwards, as if suspended momentarily and cut his blades through the figment of his imagination with a triumphant roar. He landed with a pad and breathed a long sigh of relief, thinking himself free of the torment. The echoes from above and the rush of air pulled his attention up, and through teary eyes of desperation and revulsion at the horrors he had been tormented with, the first of the falling branches fell onto the Hummel.

Crunch.

“Arghhhhh!” he awoke with a sharp and sudden rush of breath, clamouring for air through the tightness in his chest and the perspiration which lathered his skin to suffocation. As he fought to regain control of his breathing, his eyes settled and he saw the all too familiar site of his bed chamber. The density in his lungs left his body in one long sigh, and he slumped back onto the mattress with a wave of nauseous.

"That dream..." he muttered. "It cannot be..."

He had the very same vision in the dark of Raiera, when he had fought alongside the Dawnbringers (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?20244-MQ-Dawnbringers&highlight=Dawnbringers)to kill Xem'Zund. He had refused to believe then that he would have to sacrifice anything for the World Eater.

How wrong, foolish and ignorant he had been.

Was the sacrifice worth it? he mused in the dark.

He grabbed to his right for the hilt of Freya, and left for Altheas, before pushing his weakened and tired body upright. Slowly he vectored around the right side of the bed with shaking steps and perspiration plastering his long hair to his neck and brow. Cydnar bore his fangs with a defiant hiss to scorn the new day as he strode into his larder to fetch some water from the well.

His self doubt, determination to right the wrongs he had committed in the shadows of the world and his growing fondness for Artemis Eburi would give him the answer. Bound to the man with the blades of sorrow and woe, Cydnar only hoped with silent prayer that he could find exoneration in the coming months of toil.


Spoils:

The Lexicon of Manira: A quartz sphere perfectly attuned to Cydnar's life force, his very soul. Within, using minute manipulating of the crystalline structure lies several icons that represent the many dignitaries, artisans and council members found within the hierarchy of Hummel society. It allows him, once per battle thread, to call upon a level 0 NPC that may be either a geomagnetic mage (tied to one simple, tier 4 or lower metal or material) or a swordsman, armed with mithril light plate and either two short swords of haematite or a bastard sword. This NPC fights in Cydnar's stead for the duration of two posts.

Outside of battle, it allows him to teleport advisors and aids to his side to improve one of his skills by two grades for one post. He can summon a geomagnetic mage twice per thread, with the above restrictions.

Swords for Soldiers: Dalasi gains a mithril shortsword.

[SirArtemis]

It was dark again, but not too dark. The walls of obsidian glistened as Artemis stood before the white tree, this time just a few meters away from the base of the massive crystalline topiary. He reached out, wanting to touch it, but still could not.

The branch from before, already melted into the serpent, wound its way around the trunk of the tree, slowly descending toward the base. Artemis could see the creature through the transparent quartz of its massive girth. The gargantuan serpent slithered its way to the base and before Artemis, it's sharp white contrasting the obsidian floor beneath. It was larger than he remembered.

The snake circled Artemis, but he did not feel afraid. He just let his gaze rise up with the glowing white light. As the serpent settled, it rose up again, it's massive body moving closer and closer to the young man, and still, he did not feel afraid.

The head of the creature moved in, its size alone easily larger than Artemis' whole body, and their gazes finally met.

"Thank you," the serpent hissed, the sound echoing throughout the entire massive chamber, as if it had not come from the snake itself. "After all their long struggles, the surface and the Under Dark are finally reunited by a cold desire."

The words rebounded endlessly through the long and infinite halls of stone, full of power and magic. Yet still, Artemis did not feel afraid. He stretched out his arm, unable to reach the tree, but let his hand fall gently upon the tip of the serpent's head. As his hand touched the cold and smooth quartz scales...

He awoke.


As spoils, I request the changes to my weapons as enacted in the thread. The new enchants will stack with the current enchants that were acquired here (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?23941). Along with the bi-layer enchantments, I also have a coating on the daggers that is alchemically bound and composed of dehlar. It's function is to seal in the enchantments permanently, so that they cannot be disenchanted, as well as provide a form of magical defense. The coating transforms the material into metal known as Rythadine, which was initially created here (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?9634), and builds on canon. The end result is two incredibly powerful weapons that retain the lightness of mythril, the magic resistance of dehlar, and the powerful enchantments placed upon them, all the while giving them a black matte finish that will prevent refraction of light.

If the score is insufficient to acquire the spoils, please use the gold from the reward and in my coffers.

[Revenant]

Plot – 20

Storytelling (5) – This story had its ups and downs but was ultimately a thread about blacksmithing. The biggest fault with the story that I have is that Cydnar and Dalasi have been sent by Bazzak to find Artemis because he can smelt and work mythril. Then, at the end once they’ve set up the forge, they just tell him to head back home because they’ve got it. Why didn’t they just take the job in the first place? Adding Tinker into the thread just felt like you were trying to justify requesting your spoil, especially when his scene overshadowed a major plot point of the story. There was some foreshadowing to try to set something up with him for a future story, but it didn’t really help with this story to be quite so jarring.

Setting (9) – You both have a very good sense of the setting and maintaining it. I could feel the snowy cold in Salvar. You also did a good job of detailing something abstract like the crystal city of Ict.

Pacing (6) – The beginning of this thread was very dragged out, which made it really hard to get into the thread. That said, once you spilt the party, things really got into their groove and interest picked up immediately. For the general flow, the inn scene with Cydnar and Dalasi, and the scene with Tinker both really interrupted the flow.

Character – 20

Communication (8) – The only real point of note here that I felt was out of place was Dalasi’s discussion at the The Chastised Cleric. It felt off, and derailed everything that you had built up about the character to that point.

Action (6) – The action on this thread, in general, gave me a very good feel for the characters. For example, the travel by borehole gave a good chance for Cydnar and Dalasi to come to the fore, and the orcs added a nice touch without breaking the flow of the thread. Fixing toilets and making vials of quartz didn’t really do much to tie the thread together though.

Persona (6) – I had trouble getting a read on Dalasi’s character. One minute he’s dour and seemingly disgusted by the surface dwellers, the next he’s making eyes at a waitress? Also, Cydnar and Jay bear the ancient hatred of their respective peoples (which you point out) but Jay just ups and starts weeping at Cydnar’s anger? And for Cydnar’s part, I would expect a little more resistance from him on completely reconsidering his point of view. They don’t necessarily have to bicker the entire thread, but ingrained prejudices aren’t something that just go away.

Prose – 22

Mechanics (7) – While I can probably count the number of spelling mistakes in this thread on my fingers (there were a few more grammar mistakes), there are some points that I feel should be noted. Mithril versus Mythril. I’ve seen it written both ways, but according to the Althanas tier system its spelled Mythril. I wouldn’t have cared though, if you’d both written it the same way. Same thing with Underdark versus Under Dark. Consistency is key.

Clarity (7) – A key point of your story, if not THE key point, was hidden amongst minor things. I had to re-read where exactly you found the mythril in the caves because it was just a side note to a side story. Not one of your characters even mentioned it. Try to maintain a focus on what your story is about without getting too sidetracked.

Technique (8) – You used your multiple perspectives well, here, and I felt that the thread honestly began to pick up and get more interesting when you split up. Overall, the dream sequences added a nice depth to the story, but the execution could have been better, particularly Cydnar’s final one which left me more questions than answers.

Wildcard (5) – The thread kept me interested in where the characters’ stories would go from here and whether their lives would remain entwined, which is good, but took too long to get started, which meant that the beginning of the thread was a bit tough to get through.

Total: 67

Cydnar Yrene receives 1682 exp and 120 gp.
SirArtemis receives 1783 exp.

Spoils:

The Lexicon of Manira: A quartz sphere perfectly attuned to Cydnar's life force, his very soul. Within, using minute manipulating of the crystalline structure lies several icons that represent the many dignitaries, artisans and council members found within the hierarchy of Hummel society. It allows him, once per battle thread, to call upon a level 0 NPC that may be either a geomagnetic mage (tied to one simple, tier 4 or lower metal or material) or a swordsman, armed with mithril light plate and either two short swords of haematite or a bastard sword. This NPC fights in Cydnar's stead for the duration of two posts.

Outside of battle, it allows him to teleport advisors and aids to his side to improve one of his skills by two grades for one post. He can summon a geomagnetic mage twice per thread, with the above restrictions.

Spoil approved.


Swords for Soldiers: Dalasi gains a mithril shortsword.

Since Dalasi has his own account, this spoil is not approved.


As spoils, I request the changes to my weapons as enacted in the thread. The new enchants will stack with the current enchants that were acquired here. Along with the bi-layer enchantments, I also have a coating on the daggers that is alchemically bound and composed of dehlar. It's function is to seal in the enchantments permanently, so that they cannot be disenchanted, as well as provide a form of magical defense. The coating transforms the material into metal known as Rythadine, which was initially created here, and builds on canon. The end result is two incredibly powerful weapons that retain the lightness of mythril, the magic resistance of dehlar, and the powerful enchantments placed upon them, all the while giving them a black matte finish that will prevent refraction of light.

If the score is insufficient to acquire the spoils, please use the gold from the reward and in my coffers.

Spoil approved at the cost of the GP earned in this thread and 1400 gp from your account.

[Letho]

EXP added, GP added/subtracted.