136

Journals & Backgrounds / Re: Aquaria Blackstone (Background and journal)

« on: June 09, 2018, 06:36:40 pm »

*Aquaria takes a travel journal, and write some notes*

Spoiler

For now, a version of the sisters song. I conveyed through the magical proclamation, trying to test the veracity of the music, and also to verify if the legend was true, looking for some descendant of the sisters or even them, if the group really exists. After long days, there was no response. Probably if they exist, they are careful to hear loud and clear their song of regret being exposed to the whole world. Maybe someday I find the The Garden of the sisters, but this need time and more research... Writing now the whole song. Maybe I can find a better clue in the future.

"Your journey's over
While standing on the edge
And close your eyes
To this world of lies"

"Our will is broken
It's the end of all our dreams
My soul yearns
For the valley of our sisters"

"Your rose has withered
It will never bloom again
The soil is dry
Time has come to finally die"

"Our faith has left us
They've stolen all our freedom and dreams
Oh lay we down
In the valley of our sisters"

"Your search has ended
Your name is carved in stone
On our temple walls
Beyond any gods call"

"No holy sunrays
Will light our tomb of dreams
We won't return
From the valley of our sisters"

137

Netherese Library / Re: Contribution sent to the library of Vastiir

« on: June 09, 2018, 06:27:57 pm »

*Aquaria delivers a parchment with a freshly copied story from her own research, with a note to the librarian.*

"Greetings, master Pendragon. This time, a tale about a cursed Blade and a tragedy. And maybe a warning...

- Aquaria Blackstone, Relic hunter"
.
.
Spoiler

.
.
.
.
Soul Blaze
.
.
.

.

.
.
.
.
There was a human hero in the silver age known for having an incredible sword, called Soul Blaze. Its blade was capable of decapturing any creature, while there was a flaming aura around the blade. This looks like a common arcane spell, which we all now know. But the blade had a much more evil secret... It fed souls. To each enemy the hero killed, the blade quenched its thirst, draining the souls into its metal, eternally torturing them, and its suffering made it create the incredible flaming aura that all the others saw, not knowing how the blade acted . Everyone, including the human hero, believed that the weapon was blessed, becoming the symbol of their troops hunting orcs.

However, years later, the hero retired, passing to his son the blade. And so, for almost five generations the cursed weapon was collecting souls, without anyone noticing. One night, the hero's descendant, his fifth descendant decided it was time for him to pass on the legacy and the name of his family forward. And he was ready, preparing his son to come of age, and to receive from him the Soul Blaze that went through so many generations.

When the blade was delivered to the young, the blade flashed with an intense black flame, and immediately began to expel the souls of all it captured and consumed slowly, turning them into slaves. Men, women, orcs and even dragons made of the purest and most intense flame left the blade, attacking everything and everyone around them.
.
.
.

To each person killed by the flames, a new guns and flaming equipment was created on the remains of their bodies. They were spears, bows, swords, shields, helmets, and all kinds of beautiful equipment of incredible quality ... The bodies of the whole kingdom, instead of becoming ashes, became weapons. Even plants and animals have become some kind of equipment or weapon. The lands became a barren wasteland, with no life.

The cursed, contented Soul Blade buries itself in the center of the desert, generating itself a lair, full of servants made of flame carrying its "sons and daughters" from which the soul has taken to itself. And the entrance of this dungeon arises only at noon, in remote places, where the sun shines brighter. This entrance attracts adventurers who explore there and die in their cursed corridors, becoming eternal victims of the weapon. Those who manage to escape carry with them cursed weapons and pieces of equipment that protect them against fire or have aura of flame...

Now, in the present day, various weapons and even relics with this power is seen with care. No one can know if it is a real or cursed object. With each life that it takes, it feeds Soul Blaze in its lair, sending to the lamina the souls that it collected. And so, it awaits the propitious moment to attack and devour whole kingdoms, savoring for eternity its present victims, while it accumulates power to attack again.

Beware of warriors and adventurers with guns and equipment with flames. If your behavior changes completely, or you feel pleasure in feeding your weapons with the blood of your enemies, it is surely the influence of Soul Blaze through your servants in the form of weapons and equipments.
.
.
.
.

138

Journals & Backgrounds / Soul Blaze

« on: June 09, 2018, 06:26:32 pm »

*Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
.
.
Spoiler

.
.
.
.
Soul Blaze
.
.
.

.

.
.
.
.
There was a human hero in the silver age known for having an incredible sword, called Soul Blaze. Its blade was capable of decapturing any creature, while there was a flaming aura around the blade. This looks like a common arcane spell, which we all now know. But the blade had a much more evil secret... It fed souls. To each enemy the hero killed, the blade quenched its thirst, draining the souls into its metal, eternally torturing them, and its suffering made it create the incredible flaming aura that all the others saw, not knowing how the blade acted . Everyone, including the human hero, believed that the weapon was blessed, becoming the symbol of their troops hunting orcs.

However, years later, the hero retired, passing to his son the blade. And so, for almost five generations the cursed weapon was collecting souls, without anyone noticing. One night, the hero's descendant, his fifth descendant decided it was time for him to pass on the legacy and the name of his family forward. And he was ready, preparing his son to come of age, and to receive from him the Soul Blaze that went through so many generations.

When the blade was delivered to the young, the blade flashed with an intense black flame, and immediately began to expel the souls of all it captured and consumed slowly, turning them into slaves. Men, women, orcs and even dragons made of the purest and most intense flame left the blade, attacking everything and everyone around them.
.
.
.

To each person killed by the flames, a new guns and flaming equipment was created on the remains of their bodies. They were spears, bows, swords, shields, helmets, and all kinds of beautiful equipment of incredible quality ... The bodies of the whole kingdom, instead of becoming ashes, became weapons. Even plants and animals have become some kind of equipment or weapon. The lands became a barren wasteland, with no life.

The cursed, contented Soul Blade buries itself in the center of the desert, generating itself a lair, full of servants made of flame carrying its "sons and daughters" from which the soul has taken to itself. And the entrance of this dungeon arises only at noon, in remote places, where the sun shines brighter. This entrance attracts adventurers who explore there and die in their cursed corridors, becoming eternal victims of the weapon. Those who manage to escape carry with them cursed weapons and pieces of equipment that protect them against fire or have aura of flame...

Now, in the present day, various weapons and even relics with this power is seen with care. No one can know if it is a real or cursed object. With each life that it takes, it feeds Soul Blaze in its lair, sending to the lamina the souls that it collected. And so, it awaits the propitious moment to attack and devour whole kingdoms, savoring for eternity its present victims, while it accumulates power to attack again.

Beware of warriors and adventurers with guns and equipment with flames. If your behavior changes completely, or you feel pleasure in feeding your weapons with the blood of your enemies, it is surely the influence of Soul Blaze through your servants in the form of weapons and equipments.
.
.
.
.

139

Netherese Library / Re: Contribution sent to the library of Vastiir

« on: June 09, 2018, 03:57:47 am »

*Aquaria delivers a parchment with a freshly copied story from her own research, with a note to the librarian.*

"This time, an old legend about an elven woman and her hive...

- Aquaria Blackstone, Relic hunter"
.
.
Spoiler

.
.
.
.
Kaylessa, The Wasp Queen of Guillan Florest
.
.
.

.

.
.
.
.
There was a time, near the beginning of the silver age, from which a group of elves hated the expansion of human civilization. This small group of elves were led by an elven woman, the daughter of a druid and a powerful sorcerer of the elven people. The origin of her hatred was well known among the elves: Her parents were attacked by human bandits, who tried to make the Guillan Forest their new hiding place.

Kaylessa is her name. And by surviving the attack on her mother's cave, and after the circle of druids of her father was eliminated, she came to believe that all of humanity was a unique plague that would consume all natural resources and would dominate all races if they were not tamed or eliminated. Collecting the remains of her mother's research and the knowledge she learned from her father and other druids, she began to develop fantastic creatures through magic, but many of them were too dangerous to be released into the wilderness, being carefully kept in hibernation in her mother's cave , of which it is still sealed.

After decades of hard work, with her thirst for ever more intense revenge, she developed a dangerous and cruel species of bees and wasps. The bees, which had a serrated wound, were capable of stinging (and sacrificing) by administering a kind of special poison, which would make any animal or humanoid species obey in a servile and passionate manner. While the wasps, in turn, were the greatest horror of all ... Their stingers were capable of causing the living flesh to turn into rock, with only a slight injury.

The intensity, intelligence, and ferocity of their bees and wasps also depended on size. The smaller ones attacked in swarms, with light poisons, but when attacking several times the same victim, she was controlled and defeated. The larger ones, the size of dogs and even horses, were extremely intelligent, coordinated the attacks and tactics of the swarms and those who were under the power of her master Kaylessa.
.
.
.
.
.

In a march with no one able to interrupt her, Kaylessa began to dominate villages, travelers and even human adventurers, half elves and elves who had the misfortune to find her... And under the control of their bees, they passed the obey and he adores her as master and goddess. Before the end of spring, hordes of human servants marched toward the largest city near the Gillan Forest. She intended to exterminate or command all humans as her slaves, but something happened.

It started the winter season.

In her plans, she did not take into account the extreme cold. Their wasps and bees fell asleep, while the effect of bee venom lost its effect ... And those that were turned into rock gradually returned to normal. Knowing that her plans needed to be revised, she disappeared without a trace, taking her few servants she still had control, along with her bees and wasps. Rumors and stories tell that she created her own personal realm, her private domain, a gigantic hive hidden inside of a distant cave, from which she is gathering her troops to attack humans again. This time, sometime during the summer or spring. But never in winter.
.
.
.
.

140

Journals & Backgrounds / Kaylessa, The Wasp Queen of Guillan Florest

« on: June 09, 2018, 03:55:53 am »

*Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
.
.
Spoiler

.
.
.
.
Kaylessa, The Wasp Queen of Guillan Florest
.
.
.

.

.
.
.
.
There was a time, near the beginning of the silver age, from which a group of elves hated the expansion of human civilization. This small group of elves were led by an elven woman, the daughter of a druid and a powerful sorcerer of the elven people. The origin of her hatred was well known among the elves: Her parents were attacked by human bandits, who tried to make the Guillan Forest their new hiding place.

Kaylessa is her name. And by surviving the attack on her mother's cave, and after the circle of druids of her father was eliminated, she came to believe that all of humanity was a unique plague that would consume all natural resources and would dominate all races if they were not tamed or eliminated. Collecting the remains of her mother's research and the knowledge she learned from her father and other druids, she began to develop fantastic creatures through magic, but many of them were too dangerous to be released into the wilderness, being carefully kept in hibernation in her mother's cave , of which it is still sealed.

After decades of hard work, with her thirst for ever more intense revenge, she developed a dangerous and cruel species of bees and wasps. The bees, which had a serrated wound, were capable of stinging (and sacrificing) by administering a kind of special poison, which would make any animal or humanoid species obey in a servile and passionate manner. While the wasps, in turn, were the greatest horror of all ... Their stingers were capable of causing the living flesh to turn into rock, with only a slight injury.

The intensity, intelligence, and ferocity of their bees and wasps also depended on size. The smaller ones attacked in swarms, with light poisons, but when attacking several times the same victim, she was controlled and defeated. The larger ones, the size of dogs and even horses, were extremely intelligent, coordinated the attacks and tactics of the swarms and those who were under the power of her master Kaylessa.
.
.
.
.
.

In a march with no one able to interrupt her, Kaylessa began to dominate villages, travelers and even human adventurers, half elves and elves who had the misfortune to find her... And under the control of their bees, they passed the obey and he adores her as master and goddess. Before the end of spring, hordes of human servants marched toward the largest city near the Gillan Forest. She intended to exterminate or command all humans as her slaves, but something happened.

It started the winter season.

In her plans, she did not take into account the extreme cold. Their wasps and bees fell asleep, while the effect of bee venom lost its effect ... And those that were turned into rock gradually returned to normal. Knowing that her plans needed to be revised, she disappeared without a trace, taking her few servants she still had control, along with her bees and wasps. Rumors and stories tell that she created her own personal realm, her private domain, a gigantic hive hidden inside of a distant cave, from which she is gathering her troops to attack humans again. This time, sometime during the summer or spring. But never in winter.

.
.
.
.
[/i]

141

Netherese Library / Re: Contribution sent to the library of Vastiir

« on: June 08, 2018, 02:03:57 pm »

*Aquaria delivers another parchment with a freshly copied story from her own research, with a note to the librarian.*

"a really unusual story about gypsies. Good reading."

- Aquaria Blackstone, Relic hunter"
.
.
Spoiler

.
.
.
.
The stranger cards of Amanda Blueriver
.
.
.

.

.
.
.
.
There was a group of gypsies who traveled from city to city, setting up their encampment in distant regions in the forest. Among them was a gypsy named Amanda Blueriver. She was the daughter of the family matriarch, a powerful sorceress, full of knowledge of spells, curses, and rituals. By learning various different forms of ancestral magic, her mother taught one that is no longer easily seen... The glamor. This type of spell is distinct, since unlike sorcerers, from which comes a lineage of blood, and the magicians, which comes through studies, Glamor develops in the channeling of the mystic arts through art. Or was this what was spoken at the time...

Gypsies are known, among other skills, in their production of incredible and unique art objects. And Amanda, being a skilled in drawing and painting, was soon tasked with producing her own tarot card deck, with her mother's teachings. Normal Tarot Cards let you read the luck of others, but never of themselves. Tarot cards enchanted with Glamor, the effect was very unique and distinct: It guide the reality, weaving a strange line of events to achieve the result indicated by each card, no longer suggesting a possible event, but forcing it to happen. And with Amanda, knowing her mother's instructions, she decided to make her own modifications.

The first rule she broke was to use real people as a reference, rather than creating them within her imagination. He used reference of several people he met in his years of travel with his gypsy camp, having reference nobles, plebeians and other people he has ever seen or talked to. The second rule she made a point of forgetting is that this tarot should be black and white, but she did not resist and decided to paint all the cards by hand, so real that the colors gave life to the delicately painted images.

The third and final rule was that any object or artifact created with Glamor should have only a single drop of blood from its creator. Amanda decided, within a month, from which she prepared, drew and painted all of her deck, used one drop per card, not one for all the inks used for all cards.

At the end of thirty days, on the night of the full moon, she decided to present the pack to her mother. Taking advantage of a visiting adventurer, with no one but Amanda and her mother  to know, those cards were used to read the luck of the adventurer

She first pulled the card "The Chariot" and one of the gypsy camp carriages moved slowly toward the group, without anyone noticing at first. Immediately afterward Amanda showed the Emperor's card, making the emperor of the country himself come tumbling out of the sky without any explanation, falling in the middle of the river that by luck, was near the gypsy camp.

Quickly the gypsies near the river were quickly assisting the well-dressed noble stranger, not knowing yet to be the emperor himself. Amanda, her mother and the adventurer, still focused on reading luck, paid attention to the next 2 cards... The Tower and The Lovers.

And under the full moon in the sky, a gigantic tower falls from the sky, with a naked couple in its tower, screaming desperately falling in the middle of the river. Undeniably, Amanda's mother immediately noticed what had happened. The tower fell in the middle of the river, expelling in a great wave of water the emperor and the gypsies who ran to help him. The tower was fell and stayed put in the middle of the river, as if it were built there.

The emperor looks at the tower, pale and extremely confused, seeing his chief of guard and his empress naked on the balcony, fainting from the shock of falling from the sky with one of the towers of his castle.

The adventurer ran, recognizing the emperor, imagining what had happened, as confused as everyone in the acampament. Amanda smiled, loving the new power of her deck, recognizing her powers, pulling the next card... The Death!

The carriage that moved slowly out of nowhere caught supernatural speed, thrusting at Amanda, killing her instantly, running over the girl and throwing her into the river, already dead.

The mother silently collected all cards before someone notice anything, and tried for years to destroy the cursed cards, without success. She tried to burn, tear and even throw in the sea or the river. The next night the cards came back to her as she woke up, in her hands.

In the end, she hid each of the 78 cards in different places in the world. All the cards were individually hidden within locked wooden boxes, with a sacred silver box holding each card a letter explaining their cursed power, and that if they are all collected, their total power will be awakened.

Sometimes it is possible to hear the spirit of Amanda Blueriver fanning adventurers to find one of their cards, using a softly voice, asking for help in their dreams or even as a ghost. But the only cards that were found were the Hanged Man and The Fool, along with the body of the two adventurers in different places.
.
.
.
.

.
.

142

Journals & Backgrounds / The stranger cards of Amanda Blueriver (I)

« on: June 08, 2018, 02:02:04 pm »

*Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
.
.
Spoiler

.
.
.
.
The stranger cards of Amanda Blueriver
.
.
.

.

.
.
.
.
There was a group of gypsies who traveled from city to city, setting up their encampment in distant regions in the forest. Among them was a gypsy named Amanda Blueriver. She was the daughter of the family matriarch, a powerful sorceress, full of knowledge of spells, curses, and rituals. By learning various different forms of ancestral magic, her mother taught one that is no longer easily seen... The glamor. This type of spell is distinct, since unlike sorcerers, from which comes a lineage of blood, and the magicians, which comes through studies, Glamor develops in the channeling of the mystic arts through art. Or was this what was spoken at the time...

Gypsies are known, among other skills, in their production of incredible and unique art objects. And Amanda, being a skilled in drawing and painting, was soon tasked with producing her own tarot card deck, with her mother's teachings. Normal Tarot Cards let you read the luck of others, but never of themselves. Tarot cards enchanted with Glamor, the effect was very unique and distinct: It guide the reality, weaving a strange line of events to achieve the result indicated by each card, no longer suggesting a possible event, but forcing it to happen. And with Amanda, knowing her mother's instructions, she decided to make her own modifications.

The first rule she broke was to use real people as a reference, rather than creating them within her imagination. He used reference of several people he met in his years of travel with his gypsy camp, having reference nobles, plebeians and other people he has ever seen or talked to. The second rule she made a point of forgetting is that this tarot should be black and white, but she did not resist and decided to paint all the cards by hand, so real that the colors gave life to the delicately painted images.

The third and final rule was that any object or artifact created with Glamor should have only a single drop of blood from its creator. Amanda decided, within a month, from which she prepared, drew and painted all of her deck, used one drop per card, not one for all the inks used for all cards.

At the end of thirty days, on the night of the full moon, she decided to present the pack to her mother. Taking advantage of a visiting adventurer, with no one but Amanda and her mother  to know, those cards were used to read the luck of the adventurer

She first pulled the card "The Chariot" and one of the gypsy camp carriages moved slowly toward the group, without anyone noticing at first. Immediately afterward Amanda showed the Emperor's card, making the emperor of the country himself come tumbling out of the sky without any explanation, falling in the middle of the river that by luck, was near the gypsy camp.

Quickly the gypsies near the river were quickly assisting the well-dressed noble stranger, not knowing yet to be the emperor himself. Amanda, her mother and the adventurer, still focused on reading luck, paid attention to the next 2 cards... The Tower and The Lovers.

And under the full moon in the sky, a gigantic tower falls from the sky, with a naked couple in its tower, screaming desperately falling in the middle of the river. Undeniably, Amanda's mother immediately noticed what had happened. The tower fell in the middle of the river, expelling in a great wave of water the emperor and the gypsies who ran to help him. The tower was fell and stayed put in the middle of the river, as if it were built there.

The emperor looks at the tower, pale and extremely confused, seeing his chief of guard and his empress naked on the balcony, fainting from the shock of falling from the sky with one of the towers of his castle.

The adventurer ran, recognizing the emperor, imagining what had happened, as confused as everyone in the acampament. Amanda smiled, loving the new power of her deck, recognizing her powers, pulling the next card... The Death!

The carriage that moved slowly out of nowhere caught supernatural speed, thrusting at Amanda, killing her instantly, running over the girl and throwing her into the river, already dead.

The mother silently collected all cards before someone notice anything, and tried for years to destroy the cursed cards, without success. She tried to burn, tear and even throw in the sea or the river. The next night the cards came back to her as she woke up, in her hands.

In the end, she hid each of the 78 cards in different places in the world. All the cards were individually hidden within locked wooden boxes, with a sacred silver box holding each card a letter explaining their cursed power, and that if they are all collected, their total power will be awakened.

Sometimes it is possible to hear the spirit of Amanda Blueriver fanning adventurers to find one of their cards, using a softly voice, asking for help in their dreams or even as a ghost. But the only cards that were found were the Hanged Man and The Fool, along with the body of the two adventurers in different places.
.
.
.
.

.
.

143

Netherese Library / Re: Blackstone research (any DM)

« on: June 08, 2018, 11:26:51 am »

She carefully notes all the references, though she has not found anything about celestial silver. She start to research about other celestials, now "Angels", also known as the aasimon race, in special, the Planetar subtype. With her need to know means to produce or find celestial silver, it would perhaps be necessary to speak directly with the source, a celestial Planetar Perhaps by contacting a priest from Selune, it would be possible to speak to an "angel" directly, to find more informations. Because Planetars were the mighty generals of celestial armies that had also been known to help powerful mortals on missions of good, particularly those that involved battles with fiends.

With eladrins, she has an option, the ideal is to always have more than one hand, in order to locate such important material, since much depends on this. Roz'dha was a serious problem, and now there are other complications involving demons and devils. Celestial silver is an importante resource everyone need now, to fight against undead and fiends.

Before going directly to a temple and researching with a priest related to deities of good, she goes on to look for references to angels. She thinks carefully if a celestial warrior like a Planetar would be ideal, for the interest is in regard to celestial silver, and means of contacting a celestial fit for such a deed. They would be simpler to contact through priests, theoretically. However, it is necessary to involve a number of  high-skilled people from whom she would not have access now.

She seeks to focus on another type of celestial too, Devas.

In her arcane studies with koin and her father, she recalled about extraplanar beings whose portal or related spells brought celestial up to high-ability mage or priest. They are more powerful and difficult to deal with, but they are known to help (rarely) good people in the fight against evil. Perhaps direct contact with them will provide the means to get the celestial silver to deal with so many problems.

With the urgent need to locate celestial silver, she begins to focus her research on these two types of celestial now. Planetar and Devas.

144

Netherese Library / Re: Blackstone research (any DM)

« on: June 08, 2018, 04:37:29 am »

She returns to the library some days later, leaving another scroll of stories to be cataloged and perhaps added to the library of Vastiir, and after that she begins to search for something in silence...

Aquara start to research for any information about Celestial silver, as well as Celestial entities. She start to look for any reference about Celestial eladrin,  a type of fey celestials native to Arborea and anything about the gate of moon. She knows that she would probably be luckier if she investigated directly with the elves, but she now needs some solid foundation before going on random, senseless field research.

145

Netherese Library / Re: Blackstone research (any DM)

« on: June 07, 2018, 05:22:25 am »

Recognizing that she can not help everyone at the same time, and not even contribute to research from different groups or noble houses alone without help, she decides to temporarily discard any research that will not bear direct fruit. And decides to abandon any request made by other adventurers who directly asked her for help. Or even requisitions that could avail of any kind of exchange currency, favor or possible future aid with these individuals or even noble houses. Everyone wants her help, but no one contributed to help her in her research as well.

Aquaria decides to abandon any hope to find anything related with Patrician Peaks, the Runic Pillar and a large sealed door inside of a cave, full of orcs, and leaving aside any good will to investigate anything related with the entrance to underdark she found, and the other passages in this cave too. Aquaria knew she had two or three noble houses, plus a guild of mages, and perhaps another one of thieves and maybe a weird cult who may have long been hunting for information about this. Even though she finds something worth researching for her own benefit in this regard and want to help others, she thought carefully about the risks. Either she would be killed, or she would be coerced to help, or she would be robbed and betrayed.

Everyone wanted help, but no one gave a fair, direcly reason to be helped. No one gived any solid moral, monetary, emotional, spiritual even a logic reason to inspire her to help them. She decided to put aside what she knew, and leave this unpleasant task to the other person. If anyone wanted her help, she would pay for it, with a signed contract and an advance payment. There is no use in striving for someone other than herself and one loyal friend or other.

"F*ck. Nobody helps me in MY job. I will not help others for' free." Thinks her, stressed and frustrated.

She abandons any research about Roz'dha and the eternal flame or the necropolis. Now they are really more active in other lands, attacking and threatening people, so her help in this would be useless, since any noble house or authorities can do the job better than she. Leave this to the adventurers or other houses. She tried and failed in the library, better to focus in something better.

About the dwarfs and the other noble houses... Better to change her way to look for historical informations. The library don't hold, or have any public information. Better to try a different way to deal with this. About the isle of the sauros, the same problem: The great library of Vastiir don't hold any reliable historical information , or keep the registers out of her reach now.

Hating the time spent trying to pick up information for any kind of job offer she might have, or to help other adventurers or houses, she leaves the library, since she could not find any information there that would help her get a starting point.

She sighs, tired and kindly says "Thanks for your help" and leaves the library.

146

Netherese Library / Re: Contribution sent to the library of Vastiir

« on: June 07, 2018, 04:55:03 am »

*Aquaria delivers another parchment with a freshly copied story from her own research, with a note to the librarian.*

"This time, a brief story about an old song about the druids in a florest. Hardly we will find a druid to confirm the story or song, but certainly has some truth behind it. I hope this contribution will help encourage others to do the same, as well as provide more extensive material to the researchers or readers who attend your library.

- Aquaria Blackstone, Relic hunter"
.
Spoiler

.
.
.
.
The Druid Stone Song
.
.
.

.

.
.
.
.
In distant times, in a distant forest, an evil creature was defeated, at great cost. The forest guardians, wounded and tired, saw the destruction of their beloved home, now in ruins, gradually becoming a desert due to corruption caused by the creature. His name could no longer be pronounced, or revived easily. The adventurers turned their backs, returning to their cities with glories and prestige, but behind them there was only the ruined forest, which slowly died, corrupted and poisoned by the poisonous blood of the dead creature. Animals became sick, plants became weak and dead. And the Druids silently mourned.

The druids gathered around the creature's evil body, emanating corruption, wickedness and even dead malice. And slowly, the Druids circled the body in a circle with 12 members, beginning to sing a serious, sad and melancholic song, expressing their pain and agony, sacrificing their own lives, becoming part of the forest, turning into a circle of statues , sealing all the corruption of the body of the creature, and slowly purifying the forest, making it thrive and grow more vigorous and pure than ever.

After this, once a year, their descendants and apprentices approach the statues of their former mentors, and again sing the same song on the day of their sad death, to reinforce the pact of protecting and loving nature and that forest, renewing the bond of respect and understanding for life ... and to protect it in all its forms.

In place of the body of the vile and corrupt creature, in its place grew a gigantic tree, the largest of all forest. Its fruits are especially tasty, and its leaves are medicinal. Birds of all kinds and species live on their branches, while other animals, even the wildest and most dangerous ones, act graciously and peacefully before everyone as they approach that tree.

Elves feel honored to see that tree in person, while other druids only feel in full harmony with nature spend at least one night near the circle, feeling the presence of life in all its splendor.
.
.
.
.

The moon sheds no light on the eastern florest
The day turns to night and the bonfires cease burning

The druids gather round and the chants fill the air
Their echoes resound and the living world stops turning

The magic words are spoken
As we leave the woods in silence
Now the circle stands alone
And the druids turn to stone

The dawn shines its light on eastern florest
The day floods the night with gilded rays of sunshine

The magic words were spoken
As we left the woods in silence
Then the circle stood alone
And the druids turned to stone

The rising sun is dancing on the edges of the stones
Casting shadows, creeping down the woods
Into the heart of the world

I marvel at this mystery, beholder of the stars
A holy temple, a sacred burial ground
Guarding well its secrets from us all
.
.

147

Journals & Backgrounds / The Druid Stone Song

« on: June 07, 2018, 04:48:31 am »

*Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
.
.
Spoiler

.
.
.
.
The Druid Stone Song
.
.
.

.

.
.
.
.
In distant times, in a distant forest, an evil creature was defeated, at great cost. The forest guardians, wounded and tired, saw the destruction of their beloved home, now in ruins, gradually becoming a desert due to corruption caused by the creature. His name could no longer be pronounced, or revived easily. The adventurers turned their backs, returning to their cities with glories and prestige, but behind them there was only the ruined forest, which slowly died, corrupted and poisoned by the poisonous blood of the dead creature. Animals became sick, plants became weak and dead. And the Druids silently mourned.

The druids gathered around the creature's evil body, emanating corruption, wickedness and even dead malice. And slowly, the Druids circled the body in a circle with 12 members, beginning to sing a serious, sad and melancholic song, expressing their pain and agony, sacrificing their own lives, becoming part of the forest, turning into a circle of statues , sealing all the corruption of the body of the creature, and slowly purifying the forest, making it thrive and grow more vigorous and pure than ever.

After this, once a year, their descendants and apprentices approach the statues of their former mentors, and again sing the same song on the day of their sad death, to reinforce the pact of protecting and loving nature and that forest, renewing the bond of respect and understanding for life ... and to protect it in all its forms.

In place of the body of the vile and corrupt creature, in its place grew a gigantic tree, the largest of all forest. Its fruits are especially tasty, and its leaves are medicinal. Birds of all kinds and species live on their branches, while other animals, even the wildest and most dangerous ones, act graciously and peacefully before everyone as they approach that tree.

Elves feel honored to see that tree in person, while other druids only feel in full harmony with nature spend at least one night near the circle, feeling the presence of life in all its splendor.
.
.
.
.

The moon sheds no light on the eastern florest
The day turns to night and the bonfires cease burning

The druids gather round and the chants fill the air
Their echoes resound and the living world stops turning

The magic words are spoken
As we leave the woods in silence
Now the circle stands alone
And the druids turn to stone

The dawn shines its light on eastern florest
The day floods the night with gilded rays of sunshine

The magic words were spoken
As we left the woods in silence
Then the circle stood alone
And the druids turned to stone

The rising sun is dancing on the edges of the stones
Casting shadows, creeping down the woods
Into the heart of the world

I marvel at this mystery, beholder of the stars
A holy temple, a sacred burial ground
Guarding well its secrets from us all
.
.

148

Journals & Backgrounds / Re: Aquaria Blackstone (Background and journal)

« on: June 06, 2018, 06:15:26 am »

Aquaria stays in her room in Hadrian, reading various notes and piles of old books she found in dungeons, ruins and all sorts of strange places. In the middle of that confused pile of material that only she understood, was Koin, her little pseudo-dragon sleeping on top of another book.

Spoiler

She tries slowly to translate those letters. Each letter represented a sound, but also a meaning. So if the lyrics were written backwards, it had the reverse direction, but it kept the sound. And if it was written upside down, the context was different. And if it were inverted and upside down, another. The code was a boring and difficult to use... It was possible to utter through vocal sounds an entire story in small, hand-picked sentences. Or he could only speak the lyrics in a slow but almost musical way, associating between 2 and 5 of them, forming a reasonable line of text when translated.

She remembers the transmissions she made through the strange mage in the town square, using his services of magical proclamations in Hadrian. She used two layers of code. The vocal concealed between common words, and a more pure, with groupings of 2 to 5 letters. She knew those messages would reach everyone's ears within the reach of her messages. And probably a lot of unexpected people, or strangers, would at a certain point break the code, fully understanding what was being transmitted. Or worse, someone would try to talk to her directly, demanding explanations and how that code could be translated, since curiosity is something that motivates people as much as greed.

She breathes deeply and smiles, knowing that her translated texts rested in safely inside of the library in Vastiir, and although the legends and stories have some great importance to her, she knew that the sounds of those words she sent in story form might someday matter if she die or disappear without leaving traces.

Spreading stories, poetry, and songs to libraries and certain contacts may not be the most efficient way to search for relics, but your contacts are slowly expanding. His song about the sisters might have generated some future reaction. Or who knows, someone who can help in certain matters will appear. Or she's still alone with her plans, plans, and a relaxed pseudo-dragon sleeping in her old books.

Slowly, Aquaria begins to re-tell the story she has just translated, listening her how voice, checking how it is written, how it is written and to whom it is written. His pseudo-dragon awakens, watching her tell the story about the forge of souls. She carefully sings the song again, checking the sonority of everything and how some parts are described, even though it does not make sense....

Spoiler

Carefully, she chose the words with direct sonority of the symbols that only other relic hunters knew. The sound of each symbol resembled words, and anyone reading such a text could carefully re-read it differently, understanding the hidden message behind each word, each letter. But the code would only be understandable if you knew the written code directly. The sound would only report part of the message, but not all of it. Sometimes less is more.

She stops, and says  in sequence "Leave the word, seek the world. Listen and wish, read and risk. And remember the whisk"...
Spoiler

...And thinks "I'll have to be more careful. Some people are already noticing and translating some easy parts of the codes, as well as recognizing references from old stories, but not as relic hunters or trusted contacts...

She stops singing the poems and letters of the stories already translated, starting to work on the translation of new stories...

149

Netherese Library / Re: Contribution sent to the library of Vastiir

« on: June 06, 2018, 05:23:55 am »

*Aquaria delivers another parchment with a freshly copied story from her own research, with a note to the librarian.*

"Sorry for not visiting the library yet. I'm in the middle of an important field research process, looking to discover details of a mysterious locked door of stone, in a unique place, probably ancestral in some way. As an apology, one more story for you. In part, a brief and unique legend about gods.

- Aquaria Blackstone, Relic hunter"
.
.
Spoiler

.
.
.
.
The anvil of Souls
.
.

.
.
.
.
.

There is an ancient legend, a larger entity, larger than all races, larger than all the gods together, decided for reasons that only he knows, decided to create the whole universe. First he created himself, expanding his consciousness in all directions, for instants later, to create his own hands and body, to be able to shape reality to have the consistency of realized dreams, and the physical sensation so that everyone knows not it's just a dream. By clapping, he created all the elements we know and others we will still learn. And in separating them, he created for himself the anvil of souls.

In order for his creation to be perfect as he or she, so infinite of possibilities and variations, each with a small trace of his infinite creation, he had to create the anvil, so that with each hammer that gave, reality took form, generating life, which would generate more lives and by itself, more new infinite life forms. With his willpower as a hammer, and his body as a cosmic force to create everything, the creator began to work, using the anvil, forging the reality we all live. The sparks of this forge have shaped lands, seas, and all living things. Everyone who has soul who saw creation, with their own lives watching the creator forge life in his infinite work, have become gods. And they started to sing a song that echoes for all eternity...
.
.

At the birth of time, the beginning of beginnings
One cosmic soul was created
A bringer of life, a universal creator
Born to smith his life in the all races

Like a spark of a hammer hitting, it spreads in all directions
Creating life among the skies
I'm struck with awe as I join the great smith
Now it takes flight to the brightest star of all

On a quest for life, through the sable skies
What a show! behold!
The anvil of a million souls

On a bold crusade, in the realm of shade
What a show! behold!
The anvil of a million souls

Through the glowing mist, like a fog of the creation
I can see the forming of new lands, new races
I've been struck by thunder as I witness all the splendor
And I realize how small we really are
.
.

.
.
On a quest for life, through the sable skies
What a show! behold!
The anvil of a million souls

On a bold crusade, in the realm of shade
What a show! behold!
The anvil of a million souls

Ooh, I can see forever
On the wings of dreams I fly
Is this real or is it just a fantasy?
What awaits me now at the end of this ride?

On a quest for life, through the sable skies
What a show! behold!
The anvil of a million souls
.
.

.
.

.
.
.
The creator continues to forge the whole life of the universe, all forms, be they plants, animals or even people. When the common life cease to live, their souls return to their gods, the Creator's earliest creations... To be created by their gods again and again, and if they are sublime enough, they ascend to become new gods, to watch the cosmic spectacle of creation by some eternities, and thus to return, to guide the new creations of the creator to watch the creator and the anvil of souls...

150

Journals & Backgrounds / Stories of a Lost World - The Anvil of Souls

« on: June 06, 2018, 05:20:49 am »

*Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
.
.
Spoiler

.
.
.
.
The anvil of Souls
.
.

.
.
.
.
.

There is an ancient legend, a larger entity, larger than all races, larger than all the gods together, decided for reasons that only he knows, decided to create the whole universe. First he created himself, expanding his consciousness in all directions, for instants later, to create his own hands and body, to be able to shape reality to have the consistency of realized dreams, and the physical sensation so that everyone knows not it's just a dream. By clapping, he created all the elements we know and others we will still learn. And in separating them, he created for himself the anvil of souls.

In order for his creation to be perfect as he or she, so infinite of possibilities and variations, each with a small trace of his infinite creation, he had to create the anvil, so that with each hammer that gave, reality took form, generating life, which would generate more lives and by itself, more new infinite life forms. With his willpower as a hammer, and his body as a cosmic force to create everything, the creator began to work, using the anvil, forging the reality we all live. The sparks of this forge have shaped lands, seas, and all living things. Everyone who has soul who saw creation, with their own lives watching the creator forge life in his infinite work, have become gods. And they started to sing a song that echoes for all eternity...
.
.

At the birth of time, the beginning of beginnings
One cosmic soul was created
A bringer of life, a universal creator
Born to smith his life in the all races

Like a spark of a hammer hitting, it spreads in all directions
Creating life among the skies
I'm struck with awe as I join the great smith
Now it takes flight to the brightest star of all

On a quest for life, through the sable skies
What a show! behold!
The anvil of a million souls

On a bold crusade, in the realm of shade
What a show! behold!
The anvil of a million souls

Through the glowing mist, like a fog of the creation
I can see the forming of new lands, new races
I've been struck by thunder as I witness all the splendor
And I realize how small we really are
.
.

.
.
On a quest for life, through the sable skies
What a show! behold!
The anvil of a million souls

On a bold crusade, in the realm of shade
What a show! behold!
The anvil of a million souls

Ooh, I can see forever
On the wings of dreams I fly
Is this real or is it just a fantasy?
What awaits me now at the end of this ride?

On a quest for life, through the sable skies
What a show! behold!
The anvil of a million souls
.
.

.
.

.
.
.
The creator continues to forge the whole life of the universe, all forms, be they plants, animals or even people. When the common life cease to live, their souls return to their gods, the Creator's earliest creations... To be created by their gods again and again, and if they are sublime enough, they ascend to become new gods, to watch the cosmic spectacle of creation by some eternities, and thus to return, to guide the new creations of the creator to watch the creator and the anvil of souls...