AC 2021 Round One: Team Four

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Round one will begin at 6pm EST on 3rd December 2021.

Team 4

1. Christoph (C)
2. Rehtul Orlouge
3. Orphans
4. Flamebird

[Preston]

Challenges for Round 1:

Your group is heading to Alerar, making their way to these newly discovered ruins. The purpose is up to you, as well as how you interact with the environment (to include factions of the Alerar Guilds, Alerar Army, Tular Plains Demons, or Northern Alerar Dwarves). The following challenges are for use in the thread, and you must include at least one but can incorporate as much as you would like beyond that (it does reflect in the Wild Card and Story section)

• Challenge 1: Interact with at least one faction, either as an ally or enemy - or create your own and that faction must interact with the others somehow
• Challenge 2: Overcome one “political” obstacle
• Challenge 3: Due to the hurried nature of everyone scrambling to get to the new discovery, your characters are not fully stocked/prepared in some way

[Christoph]

[[OOC Note: all bunnies between characters are approved]]

*

Bare feet upon the water’s surface, Elijah walked alone. Above spanned a sky of jagged mountains, engulfing the horizon with rows of rocky fangs. Deep, deep below the gently rippling waves, all the stars of heaven glittered. White feathers drifted in the breeze. One spot marred the ocean’s endless perfection, a half-submerged figure. Step by step, he made his way across the chill waters.

He blinked, and suddenly he was beside the stranger. The girl’s white hair and horns bobbed with the currents.

“Hello,” he said, his voice a distant echo. “You know you can just stand, right?” It seemed a sensible thing to say.

The horned girl tilted her head and met his eyes. “That’s sensible,” she said, placing her hands on the ocean’s surface to hoist herself up.

“What’s your name?”

“Sophia. I think.” She gazed past him to some far-off place. “Wait, no. Azza.”

“Azza…” He blinked again. Now, the white-haired girl stood hand in hand with two others. Horned and winged, they were identical to her, except insubstantial, somehow. Smaller and frailer, translucent.

“I was missing pieces,” she said, as though it explained everything.

Blink.

Now they ran across the waves hand in hand, Elijah and three Azzas. Wind howled through the mountainous sky, their rocky peaks spitting ash and smoke. Beneath the water, a dark shape hunted them, a spindly-limbed shadow over the stars. It surged forth, rushing beneath their feet.

“Hurry!” Elijah pulled harder on the girl’s hand.

The shadow burst from the waves! Writhing across the surface, it towered over them, a creature birthed from ink and smoke with a red pulsing heart. An eyeless face leered. Long claws flexed, dripping ichor. Elijah pushed the girls back and stepped forth to face the demon. Was he afraid? He couldn’t remember.

He cast his gaze to the starry night beneath the sea. The great constellations became clear. Reaching down as though to grasp them, he traced the ancient Sign of the Dragon. The demon slithered closer. He traced the sign again, eyes clamped shut with will bearing down upon the heavens like an anvil. The shadow raised its claws to strike.

A roar shook the earth above. The sea bubbled and roiled, blasting forth jets of steam. From the depths rose the Dragon, the head of a great wyrm forged of mist and starlight. Its jaws breathed white hot flames. The inky specter hissed, writhing as fire consumed it, black mist and ichor washed away in a maelstrom of steam.

Blink.

They stood alone atop the mirror sea, not a whisper to marr the silence, or a breeze to disturb the water. Azza, once three, was now one. She seemed… sturdier, more substantial in ways he couldn’t articulate.

“I promise,” said Elijah, feeling the waning grip of the dream, like sobering up after a night drinking. “I will find you when I wake up.”

They stood facing each other as moments trickled by. Why did they remain? He blinked again, and a fog cleared from his eyes. The girl facing him looked different, yet the same. White hair, horns, and wings, deep red eyes wide yet inscrutable. She was taller now, coming up to his chin.

Not just a dream, but a memory of one. The chef garb of his youth dissolved into motes of light, drifting away on the breeze. In its place appeared his familiar traveling clothes beneath a cloak of sea green scales and black feathers. The dreaming landscape of starry sea and skybound peaks remained, but Elijah remembered when he was.

“I did,” he said at last. A smile crept across his lips. “I did find you. It just took me twelve years.”

[orphans]

“Only twelve. Rather quick, no?” A cheeky grin spread across the horned girl’s lips as she faced Elijah, her mentor. Compared to his striking cloak of scales, she dressed more modestly in a simple tunic of blues and greens. Her long tan skirt seemed to root her in place, her feet nowhere to be found.

“Quick for elves, perhaps,” said Elijah with a chuckle. “Or silver-haired spirit girls.”

Looking over the dreamscape, Azza couldn’t help but snicker. “It’s good to know that you remember me in such a favorable light, though I remembered it a little differently.”

“Blame my subconscious. We could compare notes if you showed me yours.” He tapped her forehead. “I know there’s more in there than an empty field and a locked gate.”

Still grinning, she swatted away his hand. “I’m still cleaning in there. Give me another year?”

Elijah rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. “Since you’re here, how about some practice? Try setting this dreamscape right side up.”

“But I wanted breakfast. I’ve been stuck in your head all night!”

“Once we’re finished.”

Her grin faded to a frown, but in the end she let out a sigh and shrugged. “Fine, fine. I know the deal. Work first, food later.” Taking a deep breath, she clapped her hands together once, then twice. Upon the second clap, the entire world violently flipped. Mountains spun from the sky to the ground, and the two dreamers landed atop a rocky slope.

“What did--” Elijah’s eyes widened as the new sky rumbled. The ocean rained down in sheets, flooding the new valleys and thoroughly drenching the two of them. “That is not what I had in mind.” He picked some seaweed out of his ear. “But it works.”

She smiled wider than ever. “Can we have breakfast now?”

“I supposed, in a minute…” He trailed off as he turned his gaze to the fresh starry sky. “That’s quite a view.”

“I’ve noticed that your dreams always have stars. I didn’t figure you to be such a romantic to keep a private field of stars in your head.”

He scoffed. “I’m more a classicist than a romantic.”

“What?”

“A lesson for another time,” he said with a short laugh, his eyes still reflecting the stars. “These aren’t my private stars. The Òlosdor, or what the elves call the dreaming realm, is… how would you call it?” He paused, his hands making a searching gesture. “It’s adjacent to the Firmament. These are the very same stars you would see in the real night sky. In fact, they’re usually much clearer in dreams.”

“Usually?” Upon seeing her mentor’s furrowed brow, Azza craned her head back to stare up. She couldn’t help but hum in thought. Elijah had taught her all the stars and constellations, but she still mixed in the names she once knew. “They look different to me. Did I misplace a few or something?”

“I’m not sure.” He frowned, before waving his hand to dismiss the notion. “Breakfast, then.”

“Wait, but--” Before she could finish her sentence, Azza’s eyes snapped open.

The world was upside down… again. Her shoulder hurt and her neck felt awfully funny. She flailed her limbs about to escape the blanket tangled around her, before realizing that she had fallen halfway out of bed during the night, her legs propped up on the brass-framed with the rest of her on the floor. Her sheets and pillows were scattered all over the tile floor, along with an overturned lamp.

“What’s all this?” asked Elijah, standing over her and prodding her with his foot. He was already dressed. How? “Did you fight off a burglar in your sleep?”

“Maybe!” Her lips curled into a sheepish smile, though upside down it looked more like a scowl. “Pretty sure I won.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he replied with a snort, turning to head back downstairs. “Breakfast is ready, so hurry up. And try to practice some propriety. A less scrupulous mentor might get the wrong idea.”

Azza looked down -- or was it up? -- at herself, realizing that her brown robes had ridden up past her waist during her nighttime struggles. Rolling herself into a more modest sitting position took greater effort than she liked to admit, with half her body stiff and numb.

“Maybe if it wasn’t so hot and stuffy!” she called after him. “You’re lucky I wear anything to bed at all!”

=====================

Breakfast was by far the best part about her apprenticeship. Elijah used to be a chef -- a fact he found every excuse to bring up over their past year together. Today, he had set the table with fresh toasted rye bread, black currant jelly, and crispy bacon. Azza attacked the food with enthusiasm, while Elijah chewed with his customary restraint, smirking at her from across the table. Of course, the she ate would make any cook feel good about their skills.

Morning studies always came after breakfast. Usually, they would review incantations or constellations before moving on to what Elijah called “practical applications,” which often meant something got set on fire. Today was different. Her mentor sat her down with some dusty tomes, clean parchment, and pens to transcribe and study the old elven texts. This in itself wasn’t too strange, but by the next chime of the clock, she realized Elijah had vanished.

She looked around her stiflingly quiet surroundings. Bookshelves of dark wood lined the stone walls from floor to ceiling, stuffed with leather tomes, scrolls, and trinkets. Open books, inkpots, and loose parchments covered the surface of every desk and table. Spherical alchemy lamps hung from the ceiling, casting soft blue light over the scattered maps and star charts. The only empty spot was the chair at Elijah’s desk in the far corner.

’Odd,’ she thought. ’Did he fall into the outhouse?’ This seemed unlikely, especially after the incident with the boar crashing through a couple weeks ago, which had absolutely nothing to do with Azza chasing it. ’A prayer for brother boar, who became the bacon we ate for breakfast. You were brave and delicious.’

She set her books aside and stretched. Where had Elijah gone off to? ’He seemed distracted by the stars last night.’ Azza peered up the ladder leading to the top of the observatory.

[Christoph]

Deep in the black deserts of southern Alerar, atop a windswept basaltic mesa, stood a tower. Like a sword raised to the heavens, this edifice of polished granite and brass gleamed against the bleak wasteland. It was named the Malaethi Observatory. From the dome-shaped turret on its roof, astronomers could observe the stars, away from the light of dark elf cities. No respectable Guild member would take a posting so far from the capital’s politics and intrigue. Thus, the observatory came to be occupied by a foreign scholar and his student.

On the top floor, Elijah Belov poured over scattered star charts and open books beneath the light of alchemical lamps. Dark circles had formed under his eyes. He’d been working since the pre-dawn hours, pausing just long enough for breakfast with Azza. She was good to have around, making sure he couldn’t skip meals like he used to. He felt guilty leaving her to study alone, but certain matters required his full attention.

The stars are wrong. After hours of research and cross-checking, he was certain of it. Astronomers had mapped the movement of the heavens for millennia. They followed predictable patterns, or at least, they were supposed to. The Torch of Radasanth and Hungir’s Anvil, two prominent constellations, had always rotated in tandem. Now, the Torch’s angle had skewed by two degrees, and its stars all shined a little too brightly. Never a good sign when the stars surprise you.

“You really love the stars, huh?” Azza’s silver-haired, horned head poked up through the trapdoor by his desk.

“Already bored with independent study?” He helped her up, before gesturing to his wall-spanning drawings of the night sky. “Hard not to find them fascinating. The firmament is the metaphysical reality of our world writ large onto the heavens.”

His student wrinkled her nose. “That’s just a fancy way of saying ‘the stars are magic.’”

Not exactly, but Elijah didn’t bother correcting her, instead leafing through a stack of loose pages scrawled in arcane symbols.

“Is everything okay? You don't look so good.”

“I don’t?” He turned, her question catching him off-guard. He wasn’t smiling, he realized. I’ve looked like this before. Pale face, sunken cheeks—the look of a man facing questions too vast to grapple alone. “I’ve been tracking some astronomical irregularities. That is, stars that aren’t where they should be.”

“That sounds bad. Is it bad?”

“It is…” He let out a long breath, choosing his next words. “It’s serious, but I don’t know about ‘bad.’” It was bad. Good omens never knocked stars out of alignment. “You don’t need to worry about it right now.” He smiled weakly and ruffled her hair. “Go on back to your studies. I’ll be down in a little while, and I plan to quiz you on chapters six through ten of Mendev’s Cosmic Bestiary.”

Azza scoffed and rolled her eyes, but offered no argument. More than his student this past year, she was his friend. He would tell her in time, but she deserved to have peace a little longer. The ladder creaked as she climbed back down, and Elijah returned his research.

This was bad, potentially catastrophic. Only powerful, unexpected fluctuations of magic could disrupt the stars, but he couldn’t figure out how or when or where.

He needed help.

Hours later, the night sky was alight with over a dozen floating lanterns. Paper and foil with little alchemical flames contained inside, the little flying objects drifted into the darkness. Guided by astrological magic, they would seek out their intended recipients wherever they were. Scholars, mages, alchemists, and more – the most competent and trusted people Elijah knew. He couldn’t unravel the stars alone, but perhaps with the right help…

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Two weeks later…

The room lightened up as the sun rose over the horizon. Rather, that’s what Rehtul first thought as he looked up from his books. The light flickered, however, and the mage looked up to find a paper lantern floating in the middle of his study. Its soft light reflected off the gold foil spines of his books as he just sat there, dumbfounded.

“What the hell is this?” He reached up and grabbed the paper dangling from the floating lantern. As his fingers brushed the page, goosebumps rose on his skin. Traces of magic lingered on the paper. He ripped it free and released the lantern through the window. Returning to his desk, he read the letter beneath the light of his lamp.

Something was coming, something momentous. Another had seen it. For days now, the ice mage had felt a disturbance in the air, tugging west toward Alerar. To receive a letter guided by the wind, from Alerar was no coincidence. His eyes lingered on the words ‘astrological disturbance’ scrawled in tight black script on the page.

“This… can’t be good.” He frowned. “Elijah, huh? I haven’t seen you since Salvar.” At a party neither of them should have attended.

Rehtul pulled his shirt from his back, letting the sweaty fabric hang freely. He scanned his bookshelves and picked out a few for Felicity to read on the way. The trip over the mountains west of Raiaera wasn’t quick or easy.

He opened the door to the dark corridor and yelled, “Felicity! Pack your things, we’re going to Alerar!”

=====================================

A rickety wagon waited in front of the manor with a pair of weathered old horses, the best Rehtul could do on short notice. The driver dared to charge him more than a luxury carriage.

“Short notice, ye understan’?” he had said. While the mage did not understand, he had no choice. The next carriage to Alerar was a week away.

“As long as you can keep a steady pace and get us there, I don’t really care,” He dropped fifteen gold coins into the wagoner’s hand.

“And yer sure ye won’t be needin’ any guards? I gotta couple boys looking to earn a few gold as well,” the man said with a half-toothed smile, rubbing his gray beard with an eye on the purse.

“I doubt that’ll be necessary. I’m not exactly defenseless and my…” Rehtul coughed, “My… partner is a walking armory. Anyone stupid enough to waylay us on the road will be sorry they did so.”

He furrowed his brow, but then just shrugged. “As ye say. Shall we get going?”

The mage nodded, and they were off as the sun crawled up toward midday. The old waggon jostled Rehtul around as it trundled along the bumpy road; he could feel bruises forming almost immediately.

“I swear, if I end up full of splinters…”

[Christoph]

A blood-red sun rose over the ashen badlands of southern Alerar. Here, the air smelled of brimstone and windswept sand glittered like glass. Deep in this wasteland, the only wagons for a hundred miles passed each other on the road. Going west, a ramshackle wagon held together with rope and prayers carried a mismatched trio of travelers. Going east, a trio of sturdy armored carriages.

No words were shared between the travelers, just suspicious glances from behind barred windows. None could miss the emblems engraved on the three carriages – a runed anvil, three gears, and corked vial. The sigils of the Artificers, Engineers, and Alchemists, the Three Guilds of Alerar.

[Flamebird]

It had begun as a simple apprenticeship in ice magic. Studying with Rehtul, Felicity hoped, would lend her discipline over the untamed magic roiling inside her. One month in, however, she found herself riding a bumpy wagon through a foul wasteland. She looked up from a book she could hardly focus on and sighed.

“Blasted rotten egg smell.” She pinched her nose. “I would rather be in Dheathain right now.” Humidity and everything… at least it smelled nicer there.

Ahead stood their destination, the observatory. The lonesome tower was rigid and practical, as one expected of Alerian architecture. There was nothing for miles, save chill wind and barren black dunes.

Felicity stood up, brushing dust off her long-sleeved shirt. With a yawn, she stretched her stiff muscles. She loathed sitting for so long. Having only a bitter mage and grouchy wagon driver for company did not help. Her swords rattled against her sides, bow hanging on her back. At least she remembered those in their hurry to leave, unlike her gambeson… and the money pound kept in it. She vaulted over the side of the wagon, making it shake and groan. Her boots hit the ground in a puff of ash, tiny black clouds.

“Aye!” the driver shouted. “You can’t jostle m’ wagon like-”

“I can do whatever I damn please!” Felicity glared back, before stomping off ahead with billowing ash in her wake.

Rehtul followed after her, and soon they stood before monstrous brass doors. Before she could knock, the doors swung open. She raised her fists, ready for trouble, but relaxed when she saw who awaited them. Elijah Belov. His brown hair was longer and messier than when she saw him last. Felicity felt pressure from his eyes as they passed from Rehtul to her, narrowing into a glare.

Was he still mad about Salvar?

Elijah sighed. “You’d best come in, then.”

The heavy doors slammed behind them as they entered, echoing off the cold stone. Their host led them to a room surrounded with looming bookstands, around all corners. Felicity sighed. She was really getting sick of libraries. The group approached the stone table in the center.

Elijah sat at the far end with a worn sigh. “I was starting to think no one would answer.”

Felicity took a step forward. “We answered.”

“I didn’t call you here; I called Rehtul. He is a respected scholar and mage, dependable and disciplined. You carry magic around like a thunderstorm in a glass jar. It’s so loud I can barely think straight. You're a disaster waiting to happen.”

Well. Felicity stood there gawking for a moment, mouth hanging open. He was definitely still mad. Bringing her powers into it was a low blow, though. She met the man’s glare, seething as she grit her teeth.

“You sure about that?” She would do everything in her power to prove him wrong.

[Christoph]

Elijah let out a sigh, forcing his stony face to soften. “I suppose I should tell you why you’re here.”

Yes, she nearly got him killed when they first met, and yes, he had to flee Salvar again as a result. But could he afford to turn away help right now?

He cleared his throat. “Much as it pains me to admit, I have uncovered a quandary beyond my abilities.”

Azza chimed in with a smirk. “Uh oh, he’s using his teacher voice. He’ll ramble for hours if you don’t stop him.”

The sorcerer scowled. “Hush.” She stuck her tongue out, but he continued on, unrolling a large blue parchment onto the table. “These are where the stars should be as of three days ago.” He took a piece of chalk and drew several lines from the stars composing the Torch of Radasanth and Hungir’s anvil. “This is where they actually were, and no doubt by tonight their paths will have diverged even further.”

Rehtul adjusted his glasses, leaning in. “You’re saying the stars are out of place? That’s troubling.”

“It’s a dark portent indeed, but of what or from where, I cannot say. There’s a pattern here, but it eludes me.”

“Some anomaly from the Tap, perhaps?” The ice mage leaned forward to study the chat, eyes narrowed. Alchemical lamplight reflected blue off his glasses.

“I thought of that, but I don’t think so. Look…” Eli traced his finger between the two constellations, tapping specific stars. “The Eternal Tap has always…” He held out his finger, searching for the right words. “It has always spiraled in the heavens. When its power wanes and waxes, the stars shift like this.” He dragged his finger in a swirling pattern over the parchment. “These constellations are being slowly torn apart. Nothing I’ve ever read suggests the Tap could do this, or any power in the world that I know of.”

[Rehtul Orlouge]

“So the most logical conclusion is this power is not of our world,” said Rehtul.

Across the table, Elijah narrowed his eyes. “You don’t mean…”

“Demons? It wouldn’t surprise me.” Rehtul tapped his chin and searched in his coat for a small notebook, flipping it open..

“Ever since Haidia was sealed off, priests around the world have been afraid something else was keeping the demons left in our world…” He searched for the right word. “...stable, I suppose you could say. This is all conjecture, however.”

Elijah nodded. “I’m less concerned with how the ‘Terrestrial’ demons in Tular have adapted, and more concerned with their Hadian ancestors. Could this be a breach?”

“Whatever is interfering with the stars is magic on a scale we haven’t seen since the time of the Tap. More importantly, whatever this is, it’s nearby. There’s a… premonitory sense of dread I feel the further into Alerar I’ve ventured. I assume that’s no coincidence.” The ice mage snapped the book shut and slipped it into one of the many hidden interior pockets within his coat.

“We passed three carriages on the way,” said Felicity. “Our driver said they were with the Guilds. Maybe they were looking for the same thing?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Elijah let out a long, hissing breath. “It can’t be good if all three Guilds are interested.”

“They had a lot of mining equipment with them. I thought they might be doing an archeological dig in the ruins nearby. I hadn’t considered that what we saw was the reaction to actually finding something, though.”

“Perhaps they didn’t know what they had found, else they would have sent more people.” Elijah muttered a few choice Salvic curses. “It’s only a matter of time.” He jumped to his feet. “Time to go, now.”