The Order of Heavenherds

Late in the evening, a lone T'skrang stood before a massive statue, the pale blue flickering light illuminating him against the warm evening breeze. The low din of activity echoed from the city streets beyond. No one came to the gardens in the night, save for one type.

An elven figure approached shrouded in heavy brown and red embroidered robes. While they might not have appeared as much to the casual observer, the blue light revealed the telltale scintillation of orichalcum bound amidst the fibers.

The elf glanced around briefly, glowing eyes beneath the a dark hood darting about, and then fading. The figure strode up to the T'skrang swiftly, and pulled back it's hood, revealing a stark featured female face. It had a beauty that was not beauty, a calm that seemed as though frozen in the moment before an explosion of rage. The T'skrang opened his mouth to speak, but found himself unable. He gazed into her eyes for a moment, but could not maintain contact for too long… they were like an abyss.

The elf began speaking after a moment of silence.

"Eryss'kus, you summoned me here, speak."

The Tskrang bowed deeply,
"My apologies, First Speaker, I did not expect you to come personally - I carry a message for the order, and expected only Terilius, or Marvincus."

The lady replied instantly.
"Do not treat me like your overgovernor. Speak, or do yourself and your master an injustice."

Eryss'kus gathered himself quickly. His demeanor took a stern and formal tone - despite the legendary power of the elf he spoke with.
"My lady, the overgovernor has given me several messages for the order. The first is to commend your order for it's work in the Scarlet Sea. Without the aid of the Heavenherds, the eradication of Great Dragon Aban would have been considerably more costly."

The elf bowed slightly.
"It is our duty and purpose, my lord." she replied, as though speaking with the overgovernor himself.

"When do you intend to make known to the Overgovernor the cause and effects of the ritual performed?"

The elf's stoicism betrayed her, and her eye twitched slightly.
"There will be no special report. The ritual was designed solely with the intent to eliminate Aban, and succeeded."

The Tskrang seemed to reply with the same impatience and irritation that his master is known for.
"Why, then, did my guard describe Aban's power flowing into the ritual? Why then, did the highest chosen of the order kill three shipmen? Why did he require restraint magically, and more interestingly, physically, in order to be withheld? What of the dome shrouded in mists?"

"In time we shall have a full report for his lordship. That is all I will say of the matter at this time. Our finest are researching the dome at this time. Ancient power from deep within the ruins. Most likely compelled into form by Aban in her final moments before death."

The T'skrang nodded.
"My apologies, First Speaker. You surely understand the concern of his lordship. The houses have placed great investment in the new routes."

The First Speaker opened her mouth to reply, but seemed to stop short.
"What are you implying?" she asked after a moment of thought.

Eryss'kus smiled.
"The overgovernor has implied nothing. He has overtly requested you bring him evidence of the totality of Aban's destruction."

The elf stood aback for a moment, to the T'skrang, she seemed to grow in size.
"You call me… a liar?" her voice seemed even more calm than before. Frighteningly calm.

Eryss'kus stood before her, generations of messenger rising up to meet her inimitable threat."The overgovernor has made the request. He is deeply concerned about what lay in Yrns Morgath. He feels that there is great interest to Thera there. That is all."

The first speaker clenched her fist.
"Very well then, tell him he shall have the proof in a short time, and as for what lay in within the city, well, I will bring it to him personally. Let us just say, that this trophy will exceed all others."

The T'skrang bowed deeply.
"I shall carry your words to him, my master."

The elf, impatient, tapped her foot.
"What was the other message?"

Eryss'kus stood once again, and adjusted his elaborate garb slightly, and looked calmly into her infinite eyes.
"The second matter pertains to Triumph and Lake Ban. The overgovernor has expressed the deepest interest in this matter."

. . .

The First Speaker returned to her chambers. Her attendant slaves leapt up at her appearance, and prepared her dinner. She ate quickly and dismissed them, following a long hall down to a large office.

Tables covered in writings, priceless and ancient artifacts, and thousands of pages of books made the large room appear small. The ceiling of the office was covered in elemental air, and looked out into an infinite starry night.

She approached a cloth-covered bronze mirror and pulled off the fabric. The reflection was of no place. A swirling black abyss. She waved her hand over it and the mist seemed to blow away, revealing an ancient face, shrouded, walking through the jungle.

The namegiver within the mirror made some words and motions, and waited a moment, before looking over towards the Speaker and bowing.

"First Speaker." he said calmly, his gravelly voice rang through the office.

The First speaker nodded a brief but formal nod.
"Grim Rock, forgive my disturbance. I perform the duties called upon me by the Overgovernor. What progress have you made?"

The Obsidiman on the other side of the glass seemed to smile.
"Apology accepted. Our progress goes well. We may just catch more than a fly with this trap."

The elf had talked with enough obsidiman to know when to be direct. Her cocked head did nothing to invite an explanation.
"Can you please explain the use of metaphor, Grim Rock."

Grim Rock's smile faded.
"That The Great Beast is dying is certain, but there have been several that have passed through the area, and potentially into the dome itself."

The First Speaker stamped her foot.
"Several? As I have said, entry into the dome is impossible while she yet lives - what thinking has led you to believe that 'several' others have gotten inside? Why not follow them?"

The Obsidiman shrugged.
"The plan laid out as such is without flaw, aside from maddening Ghestalt. I have total confidence that he as well as she is vulnerable to it's power, however."

The elf sighed.
"Then…" she looked shocked "Then you mean to say one of them was Ghestalt?"

The Obsidiman nodded calmly.
"It is the only logical conclusion. He has broken through the ritual shackles, and slaughtered his way towards the dome. We are lucky he didn't damage the ritual. He must have been able to get within, or our scouts would have found him - or not returned."

"Lucky indeed. Ensure no news of this makes its way to the overgovernors ears. I have had enough of his 'well-wishing' on this expedition."

Grim Rock cocked his head to one side, and waited.

"Is something wrong, Grim Rock?" the first speaker asked.

He straightened his neck.
"Can you explain this, 'well-wishing' - it has been my understanding that he has been keeping an all-too-watchful eye on the proceedings. I thought this implied his distrust or concern for the established path. Am I incorrect to have assumed such?"

The first speaker had been nodding and waiting to speak since the first word from his mouth.
"It is sarcasm, Grim Rock. I have drawn emphasis to the fact that he is not simply 'well-wishing' by stating it thusly."

Grim Rock looked annoyed. "I understand sarcasm perfectly, my lady."

The First Speaker stared at the glass for a moment, vexed. She shrugged.
"Well, hurry up with it then. We will need to be more cautious with the ritual than before."

Grim Rock nodded.
"I had so wished to study Ghestalt more. He had begun to sprout the most unusual growths along his underbelly... but, alas, the spell leaves me little time for such trivialities."

The First Speaker shuddered."Indeed. I bid you to your work, then. By the glory of Thera." She said, bowing again before the image.

"By the duties of her chosen, my Speaker." Grim Rock said, his image fading into swirling blackness.

The first speaker lifted the curtain over the mirror, and slumped into her chair.

She picked up the grimoire that they now called "The Book of Ascension," thumbing through its pages as though it were common pulp. She set it down upon the first page of the Aura Eye. The runes and magic were dense and complicated. Perhaps too complicated for this late hour. She leaned back in her chair, balancing it on two legs.
"Hefera, in death, what troubles you have wrought my old friend?" she asked, staring upwards into space.

The book slammed shut with a loud clap.

She snapped upright, staring at it intently.

It was definitely too complicated for this late hour.

Unsurprising revelations

The dark caverns spun before Tesarrius as he rode the warm air down into the reaches of the mountain. With a practiced grace he spun to avoid stalactites and sudden narrowings of the cavern while clutching a small satchel in his claws below. He flung himself through the twising maze of blind corners and sudden drops until he reached a massive rift within the mountain. Below him was the blood of the earth, pulsing in a great river. He rode the heat upwards, pounding his wings as he rose almost straight up to land silently on a wide ledge perched on the far side of the rift. A massive opening in the mountain yawned before him, and he strode into the darkness without concern. The darkness overtook all other light before suddenly being washed away. Before him lay a broken palace, seemingly endless heaps of gold, gems and art, meticulously crafted and cared for, and in the midst of it, a Great Dragon, his blue scales fluorescing in the light.

As he stepped out, he bowed his head before his master in reverence.
"My lord." He said.

The great dragon was appropriately called thus - he would easily be 60 yards long from tooth to tail, and almost as wide were his wings spread out. He was adorned all over with gems and jewelry, medallions and charms hung from his great horns and frills at such a scale as they would crush a normal man were they to fall upon him. Over his snout perched a miniscule pair of spectacles - too large for even a troll, but small upon the face of such a mighty creature. He was curled in a common resting position for a dragon, his paws raised as a namegiver might have them if resting on his elbows. In one paw he held aloft a dusty tome, sized to a common namegiver, and with his other paw he delicately turned the tiny, fragile pages with unimaginable precision.

He finished what he was reading, and with precise movement, placed the book onto a small table near the edge of a broken wall, careful to save his place. Removing the spectacles, he turned to the Tesarrius .

"Tesarrius, welcome home. Your journeys see you no worse for the wear. What have you come bearing?"

Tesarrius opened the satchel, and produced a ledger, bringing it forward and handing it towards the mighty creature. He was like the Great Dragon in almost every proportion, but minute by comparison - barely 7 yards from head to the end of his tail.

The mighty paw snatched up the small book, and flipped the pages.

After a few moments there was a snort.

"Several names of interest… study them in detail. Find out their connections, and who they serve." the great beast said.

Tesarrius whipped his tail. "Yes, my master - much of this has been done - most were independent collectors with private interest, one clearly had ties to Iopos, but was a lackey operating independently, and not part of the corrupted brood."

The great dragon brandished his teeth in a smile.
"Good, good. Still, not enough, however." he said calmly, "Move the operation to Urupa - I want the Theran connections. Presumably the Dwarven kingdom is in too much turmoil for the message to be clearly heard."

The great dragon handed the ledger back to Tesarrius, who replaced it into the pack.

Tesarrius bowed deeply, his long neck wrapping backwards.

"Then, oh great and mighty Far-"

The great dragon cut him off.
"You would leave without finishing your explanation?" he asked, his words terse.

Tesarrius appeared startled, his tail nervously twitching.
"No, my master, I - "

He was cut off again by the mighty beast. "If no is your answer, then enlighten me on your workings with Seven. Somehow this group earned barely a mention in your notes."

Tesarrius bowed again, speaking carefully.
"They came with little intent to purchase, and very little backing. They were interested, though I doubt they served the Theran order."

The Great Dragon looked down towards Tesarrius, his eyes narrowing.

"What gave you this impression?"

Tesarrius shifted nervously. "To be honest, master, they seemed to be aware of the ploy - though I was not discovered overtly, they asked a great many questions, taking little interest in me - thought I have heard of their encounters in Iopos, and know they fear no Drake."

The great dragon snorted. "You are no mere shambling Iopian rat. Do not compare my work to that. You say they asked many questions - then what were your answers?"

"I first told them of the named prices in silver - lacking the ability to pay, I offered them information on how to reach Yrns Morgath - which they hungrily took to."

The mighty dragon snorted loudly.
"So you suspect they would have been less interested were they already in possession of such knowledge?" he asked.

Tesarrius whipped his tail again. "Yes, master - this was the first time this information reached their ears - I am sure of it."

The Great Dragon looked curious, and fell silent. After a moment he spoke.
"Nothing else remains of that circumstance, then? They simply left with knowledge and what - did they toss you a coin for your trouble?"

"Indeed they did, eight silver, to be precise." Tesarrius whipped his tail around nervously.

Tesarrius could feel his mind being observed like a book. The Great Dragon's wings ruffled angrily, flaring out and creating enough wind that Tesarrius dug his claws into the ground to stay put.

"You conceal knowledge from me yet, fool! SPEAK!" The voice was so thunderous that loose rocks tumbled from the walls. A painted clay vase from the second age shattered in place atop a shelf.

"I may have suggested they enter Yrns Morgath and return with whatever they could spare from the ancient libraries. I gifted them six of the Keys of the Council, should they manage to reach the library."

"YOU MAY HAVE?" The great dragon roared, "AND FOR WHAT REASON?"

Tesarrius, his head bowed so low his chin touched the rocky ground, barely answered. To hear a draconic voice crack with fear is a delight available only to those that created them.

"As a gift, for you, my master - the knowledge they return with was to be surprise."

The great dragon stared silently at the tiny, cowering drake for several seconds, before bellowing in a mighty series of undulating growls.

Tesarrius looked up for a moment.
"Your servant, Tesarrius, humbly apologizes for his foolishness, mighty Far Scholar."

The great blue dragon looked down upon him.
"Oh, Tesarrius, the last drake to make me laugh so was destroyed before I discovered his folly - count yourself among the lucky."

"I do, my master, I do."

"Stand to your height, my creation." the Great Dragon's voice was filled power.

Tesarrius rose to his height, and spread his wings. The mighty dragon observed him closely.

"You have become, perhaps, my finest work. Had I brood, I might confuse you amongst them, if only momentarily."

Tesarrius seemed shocked. The "Far Scholar" reached out to him, and scooped him up into one of his massive paws.

"You have done well, Tesarrius, but I fear they will be too late to escape the city of their own power. You were wise to share the amulets with them. Lock the remainder away, and let no other touch them. Those trinkets are all that will keep those heroes in our world."

"Yes, master, I will not make such a mistake again."

"The mistake was not in what you set them out to do." The great dragon spoke in a calm, rumbling voice, "Aban's secrets are of great interest to me, and this was an opportunity of fortuitous coincidence with the return of Seven. You chose well for the task. I know well of their heroism, both in Barsaive and beyond - every fruit of Great Thera they touch withers, many times the vine with it."
The mighty dragon patted Tesarrius on the head like a namegiver might stroke a kitten.
"Your mistake was only in not speaking the truth - you must learn to better conceal your thoughts so your lies are not so easily betrayed… It would have been a pleasant surprise."

"With your guidance, my master." Tesarrius whispered.

The Far Scholar nodded, petting Tesarrius gently. The room grew mostly silent; the only audible sound was a warm purring, exactly like that of a kitten.