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.