Tia'Sar'ru Musings and Letters

[minerva]

*what follows are the letters Tia writes to her children as well as some private thoughts she records in a small blue bound journal. 
   Embossed on the outside of the book is a flowing T, a smith's hammer and a lighting bolt*

[minerva]

Cael,[/i]
  I hope this parchment finds you well.  I have begun my sojourn in Lucinda’s service in the small town of [/i]Hlint[/i].  I’m not sure if you will remember it, as you were but a baby when your father and I came here last.  Things have changed in those intervening years. Adventures from all over have flocked to its gates.  There are all races within the streets; the amount of tolerance almost overwhelms me.  I remember the trials I had fitting in with the dwarves of our village, and how it took years for me to gain their respect, let alone trust.  Here I see dwarves and elves mingling with only the shortest of time together.  I’ve seen what appears to be a half giant roaming the streets unmolested by townsfolk or adventurer.  I’ve even seen, of all things, a Brownie.[/i]
  It is odd being so far away from the castle without you or your sister around.  At times I can almost feel your father’s hand on my shoulder, guiding me as always.  The crafters guild is as active as I remember it.  Perhaps that is why I feel your father’s presence so strongly.  I think I shall have to dust off some of the skills he taught me, as I fear there is a woeful shortage of well fletched arrows in town.  The temple would not allow me my old bow, so I am making due with one I purchased.  I think perhaps I will have to find a good bowyer soon.[/i]
  Lucinda’s Grace is upon me, as it seems that I improve in channeling her favor rapidly.  I only hope that the Lady continues to see fit to grant me her magic.[/i]
  [/i]
  Love as always, [/i]
  Lucinda guide your steps[/i]
  [/i]
   Seaniram
     
[/i]

[minerva]

Ianna,[/i]
 
[/i]
 
 I hope this letter finds you well.  I was disappointed to find you on assignment when I visited father at the tower.  He tells me the powers look well on you.  I am so very happy to hear that.  Lucinda must be strong with you.  I do wish that you would spend a bit more time with Cael though.  I fear his upbringing among the dwarves has made him a bit reckless even for one of his profession.  Kan’ash tells me I worry too much, that it is just the brashness of youth and nothing else.  As a mother I fear his boldness may strip him of his youth forever.  I see so much of Jonathan in him Ianna when I look at him.   His strength, his grace and even the lilt in his voice reminds me of his father. He also reminds me of you as well.  I seem to remember that incident at the Stag and Horn when you cast a glamor on the innkeeper to get our rooms for free.  It might have worked too if you’d had the presence of mind to remember he was the brother of Kan’ash’s targeting instructor.  The look on your face when father found out … *blot of ink* Hmmm , maybe Kan’ash’s influence is better than yours sister![/i]
 
     Speaking of Kan’ash, he seems well.  He was kind enough to replace my bow.  As usual he strung it a little tight so it will be a while before I can use it properly, but at least I know have a weapon I an comfortable with.   Ari sent me another of her creations; this one a beautiful twisted staff of oak.  I know the Dawnwoven teach us this is Lucinda’s chosen weapon, but it feels so unwieldy.  I continue to practice, and I am getting better.  Perhaps it is Ari’s skills that make this one easier to use that the one the temple provided.[/i]
 
   An interesting event occurred as I was walking the market in search of some fruit for supper.  Kan’ash really should employ a cook.  Barracks food is just not healthy.  I came upon a drunkard by the town water tap.  Nothing really unusual in that I suppose, Spellgard has its share of drunkards.  It was while I was filing my canteen with water that several others seemed to appear and mingle apart from the crowd.  Some were mages from their aura.  One was even a goblin wizard.  As we were chatting about the weather and such a friendly little Halfling came round and invited the group to sup with him.  Not wanting to seem rude, I joined in.  What a feast it was.  It seems the Halfling, as well as his intended and a few others (including yet another Brownie), were a moving crew of sorts.  They were moving the belongings of a loremaster to of all places, Voltrex.   Voltrex *quill seems to stop here for a long pause* How I long to see that place.  Perhaps I may yet win our wager and visit the elven lands before you![/i]
 
I digress.  The loremaster had a fantastic collection of bits and bobs.  I think you would have been quite taken by it.  We repaid our host's kindness by helping them load the last of the man’s belongings onto carts and saw them away.  It was only after they had left that an unusual book (journal) was found still in the house.  It seemed to be a recording of some legend of a hero. It seemed like a fantastic Bard’s tavern tale to me, but yet it also held an air of mystery.  Obviously if this great loremaster had thought it important enough to record it must hold some grain of truth. As a group we decided that perhaps it would bear investigation, but we really should return the journal back to its rightful owner.  On this we decided to travel to the Great Library and perhaps have an audience with the master and discern anymore that we can about the legend as well as return his property,  Yes Ianna I know, visiting the Library does not count as visiting Voltrex proper. I will not call our bet on that,[/i]
 
   Another interesting note Ianna is I believe non other than Eldarwen Hilliaraname is a member of our party.  She did not introduce herself, so I cannot be sure it was her who read from the journal.  I’ve heard some whisperings of her in the temple, but I really thought she was elven.  Pity, she appears human. [/i]
 
   I will be late for devotions if I tarry much longer on this letter.  Lucinda bless and guide you sister.[/i]
 
[/i]
 
Love Always[/i]
 
Tia[/i]
       
     

[minerva]

Mother,[/i]
       It was good to be home again.  I’m glad I took the time to come to Blackford early to visit you before setting off with my party for the great Library.  Ianna I think will be a bit envious of how close to winning our Voltrex wager I am.  I cannot adequately describe the feeling of standing on the portal platform and looking out over the land.  The yearning to step onto that soil is great.  I cannot fathom why you and father left all those years ago, but I suppose you had your reasons.  Someday I hope you will share them with me. [/i]
  The library itself I did not get to see.  We met with Master Utrion in the foyer and did not venture further inside.  It was a shame, but now that I’ve been there once perhaps I will venture there on my own.  We met with the writer of the text we found.  You remember me telling you of the older gentleman in Spellgard that was moving to Voltrex and the book he left behind?[/i]
  He had a little more to add on the Hero’s story.  He did mention that this hero, Dracan Morninglight, was recognized to the dwarves and that a cuirass known as the Talonbreaker has been found and linked to said hero .  I am going to write Jorge and see if he knows anything that might be of aid to me.   As of yet my comrades are unaware that I am fluent in the dwarven dialect, though I’m unsure if my time amongst the peaceful craftsmen of Silver[/i]smith[/i] will prepare me for bartering knowledge with the dwarves we seek.[/i]
  Of my comrades Mother I am a bit wary.   A few times I’ve considered leaving this task to them, as they seem to be vastly more experienced in adventuring than I, but as you reminded me, my duty to the Akh’faern Gis means I must see this thru. I’m not sure a novice such as I won’t be more of a hindrance than help.  This far I have simply sat back an observed quietly, taking in as much as I can.  I doubt my thoughts would carry much weight so I keep them to myself for now.[/i]
  [/i]  Ceela,[/i]
  Tia[/i]
 
   

[minerva]

Drurhka,  [/i]
  
[/i]
'urzh waazhath our' azrt our'h gar?  Zhann A 'urrha.  Nawaa poazzig zhak' k'a urk'ahth ath az zhurhnt azrhazhk wahurl lo kalath zhak' k'a gannazka.[/i] Azk kalath A thurhano lathth k'a zinazrk urwa 'azllahth urr k'a waurhka azrt k'a thlann urwa thkaazlark lakazn. A azl zhhakark kur ark'aha awa our' urh azro urwa k'a urk'ahth Lazthkahth lak'k 'azga 'aazht urwa az lazkaziazn zi'ahazthth grurzhr azth k'a Kaznurrpohaazgah.  Wahurl zh'azk A grurzh ak tazkath kur rhha -ziazkazzinothl azrt zhazth zhurhr poo az 'ahur grurzhr azth Thazziazr Lurhrarknak'k. Ak l'thk poa az thlaznnah aqazlrhna urwa k'ath rhaazia urwa azhlurh azth ak'th 'rgrurzhr k'a kartah urwa k'a 'ahur.  A grurzh k'azk our'h lar azrt zhurlar azha urwa thalanazh po'ant, po'k rurk thur azlurrk ''lazrth, azrt A poanaaga k'ath nakart ath ''lazr. Ak ath thazat k'a pohaazthkrhnazka ziur'nt waak az lazr urh az thnal zhurlazr.  K'a urrath A thazzh Drurrazk'azr lurnt zhaha lazththaga ath thaja kur waak k'a zhann l'thzinat kurhthurth urwa waak'kahth, thur Thazziazr l'thk 'azga poaar thnak'k urh lo nalakat grurzhnatka urwa azhlth ath taziaagark la. Thururr A th'aznn poa khazganark kur k'a azhaaz azhur'rt Urhnpoazh kur gaazh k'a Tahurpoazhhazt Rhnazk'ath urwa Arthziharhkaurr azrt kur thaag k'a azat urwa az zinazr ar k'a azhaaz waurh k'aah 'anrh ar nurziazkark az laththark rhaazia urwa k'azk lak'ko tzhazhgazr zhurhg.  A zhur'nt azrhrhhaziaazka ak khaazkno awa our' lak'k thart zhurht urwa lo gathak az'aazt k'h' tzhazhgar zi'azrranth.  [/i]
  
[/i]
Turhazrt k'ata our'h 'azlla  [/i]
  
[/i]
Tia’Sar’ru Silver[/i]smith[/i]
[/i]
*The following is a common translation of the letter*[/i]
[/i]
Jorge,  [/i]
  
[/i]
How fares you and your kin?  Well I hope.  Life back with the others is a world apart from my times with the village.  At times I sorely miss the clang of hammers on the forge and the smell of steaming metal.  [/i]
I am writing to inquire if you or any of the others Masters might have heard of a magical cuirass known as the Talonbreaker.  From what I know it dates to pre –cataclysm and was worn by a hero known as Dracan Morninglight.  It must be a smaller example of this piece of armor as it’s unknown the gender of the hero.  I know that your men and women are of similar build, but not so among humans, and I believe this legend is human.  It is said the breastplate could fit a man or a slim woman.  The ones I saw Jonathan mold were massive is size to fit the well muscled torsos of fighters, so Dracan must have been slight or my limited knowledge of arms is deceiving me.  [/i]
Soon I shall be traveling to the area around Orlbar to view the Derobarrad Plaques of Inscription and to seek the aid of a clan in the area for their help in locating a missing piece of that mighty dwarvan work.  I would appreciate it greatly if you might send word of my visit ahead thru dwarven channels.  [/i]
  
[/i]
Dorand guide your hammer  [/i]
  
[/i]
Tia’Sar’ru Silver[/i]smith[/i]  [/i]

[/i]

[minerva]

* the following  is written is a small blue bound personal journal*
   As we sit here in the antechamber beside the magnificent Derobarrad stone, I cannot help but wonder at my grey cousins that inscribed it.  If only the Lady had chosen to show me the way of the weave that I might manipulate it myself, I may have had enough learning to aid my party.  My knowledge of the arcane is limited to the powers the Lady channels thru me.  I really must try to accept that I will never be a mage, but rather a priestess in the service of the Lady of Magic.  It is her bidding that I be here, so here I am.  Perhaps I will find some small way to contribute.   The Stone, and the plaques that encircle it… a legacy of history, yet it remains buried deep under the ground.  The chief mentioned that those who could read the stone found a compulsion to search for their own history… a compulsion that would ultimately lead to their demise.  Search for my history… my past is not an unknown… I know who I am and the paths my elders took to come to this world.  It is the future that is so uncertain.  Things were so much easier with Jonathan at my side.  Decisions about the right path to take seemed easier when two hearts were involved.
  My companions are an odd mixture indeed.   Eldarwen has said next to nothing since we traveled down here.  Trysk has scarcely stopped taking…just long enough to drink, but the more he drinks the more he talks.  Aeridins priestess is far to … * word is hard to make out* for my liking.  She seems nice enough but bears watching.  Her motives are unclear at this point.  And the mages… The motives of all my companions seem to be in question… 
  We will continue to study this stone.  Tarradon happened upon the technique of concentrating on an image and seeking a visual affirmation from the pillar.  By the shock I received form the stone just standing near… it is also a dangerous task.  I would dearly love to try. I guess I will just have to watch and see how the others fare.  Perhaps I can glean some insight from their successes as well as their failures.   *lightly scribbled in the margin… * right vision, right purpose, right heart…
  Grey elves and Dwarves working in concert.  That is almost legend worthy in its own right.  The reason why…why remove the piece of that inscription…why hide it away?  If the pillar indeed holds the runes …and if we are able to locate it…will we be able to understand?  Will we want to?
  What of the mysterious dwarvan King and Queen?  How does their tale weave with Dracan’s? Why would the Drow raid their tombs?  It is the plaque that mentions their gratitude to Dracan that has the missing piece.  Would furthering our knowledge of the King and Queen in a round about way also further our knowledge of this hero?  Would the tomb of these monarchs be worthy of a closer inspection?  Perhaps the Great Library might hold some mention of their reign if they were mighty enough to merit a tomb in this obviously sacred shrine. 
 
   

[minerva]

Dearest Ari,
     I thank you for your latest gift, but my dear I do believe you think your Mother’s waist has thickened in the past year.  The suit of mail was much too big for me so I am returning it to you.  I know you take pleasure in your creations so please recreate this in my size.  I have recently returned from the dwarvan village of Orlbar. The shine in the town square reminded me much of you and your father.  I think of you both often.   However the reason I was there would interest you as well.  I, along with several others, am investigating a legend of a hero and potentially some magical artifacts.  The legend took us to these mighty underground halls and to a magnificent stone carved by elven hands.  You and your brother are so much better with runes than I, but it was a mass of history written in stone.  The odd thing was its placement so deep and inaccessible and it was written in code; the code needing to be accessed by a show of unity.  I smiled at the thought that here too elves and dwarves had worked in concert, though the elves in question I believe were Grey.  The unity I am happy to say I was able to help provide.  Divine magic, Elven grace, Dwarvan stoicism and Arcane magic along with a good amount of will moved the stone to show us the piece of the legend we were after.  And Ari show us it did.  Eldarwen may have been telling the others what was written but in my mind I could see the words come to life and view not one, but five, heroes take the battlefield.  As soon as I had recovered and we were in a warm Inn I wrote my vision down.  I’m not sure if I should present it to the temple as they already view my penitent for visions with suspicion.  But here is what I saw:
  I was at the foot of a mighty mountain, with a magnificent castle springing forth at it’s base.  My view was that like a bird or perhaps the goddess’s eye.  Gathered in the courtyard just beyond the gates to the keep were five figures.  They seemed well at ease with each other as if they were fast friends.
  Strong was the dwarf, resplendent in his flowing beard and gleaming  gold and black armor, a shield strapped to his back and a mighty hammer in his hand.  His face was kind, jovial and he seemed almost fatherly to the group.
  There was an elven presence.  Graceful and powerful, the weave seem to crackle about his glorious phoenix capped staff.  His robes were traced in arcane symbols of silver and gold.  He seemed one not to be trifled with, yet a font of perception and wisdom as well.    
  There was a Halfling in the group, and she was typical of their kind.  Furtive and quick, she seemed to be on edge with the many daggers and darts she had strung about her leathers.
  An odd little gnome with many wondrous contraptions was in heated discussion with her.   The fifth of the group I did not get a clear view of. They carried a huge lance that was riddled with runes and scripts of all kinds, but before I could see the face, my attention was turned to the gates.  They opened to reveal an army.  At the fore of this army was the lancer, with the four others each leading different divisions. 
  The battle unfolded before my eyes.  A terrible Red Dragon laid waste to most of the troops. Casualties were heavy and my healer’s heart wept for them.  Each of the four lead their soldiers well, but in the end it came down to the five with the magnificent lance tormenting the beast with agonizing blows until at last it was defeated.
 
  An amazing vision. I may perhaps tell the temple of this.  Eldarwen mentioned submitting the plaque inscription for the vaults.  My vision might go nicely with them.  Equally amazing to the vision was the other secret the stone held.  In code around its base were a message and a curse.  If sought and found with the right purpose of heart, the descendants of the five could once again forge a potent fellowship, powerful in times of dire need. The curse was on those who sought for the wrong purpose.   We all vowed at that moment to search for the descendants, but in doing so we would accept no personal gain.  This search was not for us, but for the good of all.
  For the good of all… why does that leave me with a strange feeling of foreboding?
 
  I look forward to that suit, and please… Ari… don’t add pounds…
  Iryvla illw nelalaala,
  Sessil
  *added at the bottom*
  Have met a wonderful Halfling from near the clan hold.  Briar Twigg is her name. I think you’d like her.  She’s great company, kind of reminds me of you as a child.  I’ve also met a very thoughtful man who has helped me obtain some of the supplies I need and a swordsman constantly in need of Lucinda’s healing.
     
     

[minerva]

Frustration:
How quickly they forget. It sickens me to see my kin talking freely with those vile creatures.  How can they?  Did their families fail to teach them of the atrocities?  Do they walk the easy road of acceptance rather than stand for the principles of their people?  I know some are young and of our wilder kin, but even amongst them the lore of out culture must still be taught. And what of those who were there?  Those that saw?  Admittedly there are few alive that can personally recall the Drow attacks on Port Hampshire.  I only learned of these tales from my father, who was told by his father. Only the eldest of the elven sages would still be able to give a personal account. But Spellgard…that was only  short years ago.  I can remember the terror.  Not knowing if Father and Ianna were alive.  I can still fell the pain I felt when I saw the defeated look in Father’s eyes when he finally was able to escape and come to us.  The fury and the despair mingled as he recounted that night of horror.   I helped to treat the refugees as they flooded into Blackford castle.  It was only by Lucinda’s grace that I had brought the children to visit their grandmother that month.  I hope they never forget. I saw what those scum did to the Lady’s followers.  I saw the corpses lying outside the gates. They were webbed and drained; fodder for those wicked spiders.  I heard how the temple and tower were desecrated.  The scum stole from the Temple an artifact.  What it was Father would not or could not say.  Those depraved beasts stole from us… all of us… not just the elves, but the other races as well. How many Drow spies walked in the City of Magic before the attack?  Complacency was their cloak of protection.  How many Drow spies walk amongst us now, once again cloaked in complacency?

[minerva]

Trial by Fire:
  *written in her personal journals*
  Never would I have thought my travels would take me there, to the Fire Mountains and to the home of the Red Dragon.   I am in no rush to return.  The girl is safe.  I cannot even begin to fathom all that I saw; death, destruction and the oddest of people and creatures.  I pray to the Lady for guidance in this matter, and cannot help but think this pursuit is but a layer upon something much deeper.  I will not for get my oath, though finding someone also bound to discuss matters with is difficult.  Elasanien, what did I get myself into? My last leap of faith in the end brought disappointment and sadness.  With the Lady’s guidance I hope this does not fall the same way.

[minerva]

Home:
  Ari,
  I promise soon I will travel to Pranzis to visit you.  My duties with the temple have me bound here and when I do travel I’m afraid there is no time for personal matters.  I have wonderful news.  I have moves out of the Inn and into a home.  Granted the only thing suitable was in Leilon, it is still a home.  I miss having you and Cael about, but have filled my nest with new fledglings.  Once again I sit by the firelight at night and help one with his elven and another with their spells.  Briar is a constant source of smiles as well.  I’ve grown quite close to this trio.  You and Cael will have to visit.  It is only a short journey to Blackford and we can visit the hills and fish by the waterfalls again.
  Ceela,
   Sessil

[minerva]

*the pages are filled with seemly unimportant notes on household duties, shopping lists and random clerical writings.   However a few things stand out.  Such as:*[/i]
  Jharl, formally accepted the Lady as his goddess.  I am so very pleased.  His elven is coming along nicely for one not trained early in it.  His musical talents must make it easy for him to let the words flow like a song form his lips.  Not the harsh tones of common or the very blunt and edgy Dwarven.
  Dwarven.  Since my trip to the grove and my encounter with the book my dreams have been marred.  I long for a good peaceful meditation, but only I get vague images of something I should recall.  The more I meditate, the foggier they become. I only know it has something to do with dwarven.  My position  *something scratched out and totally unreadable*[/i]
  Another member of the Elasanien is gone.  I have heard that Ayla fell in one battle too may and had returned to her great cycle.  May she find peace.
  The hostility between the Lady’s followers and the Ilsarians seems to have calmed as bit of late, although tensions are still palpable.  Defacing the ground of the Arcane temple and burning of books should not be condoned.  The Ilsarians were always a flighty group; too much passion and not enough stability.

[minerva]

*Tia sits curled in the pillows by the kitchen fire, her journal in hand.  Jharl and Samir are studiously pouring over books while Briar is fiddling with some strange looking device and mumbling about talking donkeys.  Tia’s face is visibly pale and Jharl looks up from time to time with a worried expression but says nothing[/i]. *
  I had heard from others but I did not think it would be like this.  As I prayed over the bodies of the fallen this day, a strange and wondrous feeling overwhelmed me. Of late I have felt closer to the Lady but today was different.  It was as if I could touch a part of her Grace as I prayed for the souls of those who had passed on.  It filled me with the urge to lay my hand on them, and *large blot* the most amazing things happened.  I have seen others raised on the field of battle.  I’ve yet to experience it myself.  I’ve stared both mystified and horrified at the beauty and pain etched on their faces as they gather the departed’s soul and channel the Grace of the Lady into the lifeless corpse…Guiding that soul from the Planes of the Lost and healing the grievous wounds that released it in the first place.   I’ve marveled at the connection these people have to be able to do such a thing.  When I ask them how it is that they can, they generally recite a deep connection to the Lady or whatever God/Goddess they follow but are at a loss to say exactly how.  Now I understand.  I reached out to touch the hand the young woman in front of me, and I could almost feel the charismatic wolf’s stride reverberating from a small green stone in her possession.  My mind focused on the stone and a strange pain washed over me.  For the smallest of moments I was bathed in emerald light and I thought I might lose consciousness.  I closed my eyes to the pain and at that moment Her Grace flowed into my hand, healing the horrible wounds as the Wolf once more strode with her.  *Tia pauses at this point and sets her journal aside and stares meditatively into the flames.  Her face is etched with weary lines as her mediations are seemly disrupted.  She again picks up her journal to write[/i]*
  It was a horrible battle in that cave.  Many had fallen and still there was so much farther to go before we could release the girl.  As the elven woman collected herself I tried to rise but found myself weakened.  To my left, in a pool of blood, lay a young dwarven lad.  My palm itched as the Elasanien called to me.  I don’t know where the strength came from, but I made my way to his remains.  This time when I reached for his hand it was different than the first.  I felt no calling except that of the tired voice of the lad.  No one from the heavens claimed this soul and it troubled me.  Still a fragment of him remained tied to that emerald stone and I focused on it. Once more as my eyes closed I could feel the pain as he fell and it mingled with Her Grace as his wounds closed and his soul returned to his body.  This time waves of exhaustion overcame me and I had to rest and thank the Lady for her guidance and her Grace. 
  As the bodies of the bandits were searched and removed, yet another of our party was found to have succumbed to their blades, another dwarf.   Again the brand of the axe compelled me to his side but to my horror when I knelt beside him and touched his hand I recoiled as the image of Vorax’s bloody ax filled my mind.  The feeling was that of questioning and distrust.  I cannot say malice, for I felt none of that, but each time I would attempt to touch the lad, the ax would arc down toward me.  I was frightened.  Frightened of the ax and frightened at what the Lady might do should I attempt to channel her gifts to one who had openly declared a distrust of her weave.  
His comrades of course could not see the ax hanging over my head and they argued and pleaded for his return.  They had watched as I had returned their friends and could not grasp my dilemma.  They pleaded for hours and as I looked at the cooling corpse I felt heavy of heart.  The Elasanien and the promise I had made and the vows I had taken for my Lady weighing heavy on me.  Then the words of the Coran arta i' Tha vair filled my mind.  I reached for the man’s hand and as the ax lowered toward me I asked the Lady to help this soul that he might know the touch of the weave and through it understand Her Grace.  As I prayed the axe arced around but did not touch me.  The pain I felt as once again as the green washed through me was intense but the Lady prevailed as the little stone turned to dust and the dwarf cursed and awoke.  The strain of that experience still weighs on me. 

* Once again she pauses to get up and move to the pantry.  She takes a pie from the shelf and jokes with Jharl about the Arms providing.  He smiles and retorts something about Lucinda proving the Arms simply being the means.  Everyone in the room laughs as she cuts the pie for all and takes her piece to the fire to resume writing.  Briar watches closely as Tia's pie sits mostly untouched though[/i].*

  My inability to reach a relaxed state of mediation is taking its toll on me.  I’ve become irritable and I have no appetite.    I find my eyes searching those of every dwarf I meet.  The brand on my back seems to seek the weave of its own volition but stops as soon as try to sense its connection. If only these images that creep through my mind like as fog would either solidify or disperse.

[minerva]

Questions and Letters[/b]
  *The house is empty and quiet, save for the crackle of the fire.  Tia sits at the table and muses over her journal.  To the side are letters written and sealed, dwarven characters as well as Elven marking the addressees.*[/i]
 
  The dream at last has come and finally I can find some semblance of peace of mind. It is a semblance only as I fear it raised more questions than it answered.  The trip to Stone as well brought many questions *blot on the page as she looks at the letters to her side* [/i]
  It would seem the dragon was not killed in the battle shown upon the Derroband stone.  It was merely sent to slumber.  The dream was that of a conversation after the battle, a discussion as I viewed it Arxhax’s eyes.  They knew the cataclysm would occur and that nothing could be done to stop it.  They also knew that ultimately the dragon, Tra'kahatul, would awake from its slumber to once again threaten Layonara.  A pact, a vow and a ritual were made to return to fight this menace once more when it did awake.  Risenfire said it would begin with a dream.  It would seem that somewhere in the land Tra'kahatul is awake.   The dream also gave hints as to where the descendants may be found.  Dracan and Goco went underground to escape the Cataclysm, while Risenfire lead Nycy to Vanavar.  It would also seem that the Human and Elven lines are linked as it appeared Dracan had born Risenfire’s children. *blot and note in the margin – Does that mean Carolyn is both elven and human descendant or she and Jeshala are somehow related?*[/i]
  Of Arxhax‘s escape from the cataclysm, it was not said. As it was but a dream through his eyes, I could not comprehend his thoughts.  Being a dwarf however I can only surmise that he took his clan underground as dwarves are like to do in times of trouble.
  Eldarwen, Alantha and I met to discuss this dream. I would seem they too had more questions than answers and were quite at a loss as to where to turn next.  It was only the chance suggestion of a dwarf passing by that aided us so greatly in our quest.  Stone…he suggested we visit Stone since the gnomes that escape the Underdark tend to gather there.  I don’t know why our kind is so quick to dismiss the wisdom of the dwarves. It was a brilliant suggestion.  There we found a little lore keeper and some more answers.  It would seem that I am but an anchor to Arxhax’s spirit.  When all are collected… descendant, anchor, heirloom and amulet for each of the five, the ritual to return can be complete.  We knew of the descendants, we had not known of the importance of the heirlooms.  Now it seems we do have a treasure hunt on our hands.  Dracan’s cuirass has been found of course, but now we have to find her two other weapons, Dawnray and a Falchion, Risenfire’s vestments, Goco robes, Nycy’s daggers and Arxhax’s mighty battle axe.  DinDin gave us a starting place for three, but the other three were unknown to him.  He also gave us some maps he said would lead as a compass. But a compass to where and how I am uncertain.
 
  *Tia sets aside her journal and picks up the first letter. It is addressed to Ari.*[/i]
[/i]
[/i]
[/i]Sa wailm,
        I require your assistance in a matter of some importance.  I know that through your works you come in contact with many of the worlds coinsures of fine art and artifacts.  I was wondering if you might point me the direction of ones who collect weaponry and armor of the cataclysmic age.  I am looking for information on a falchion and lance of that time period.  The blade was supposedly purchased by Dregarian royalty, while the lance by a Port Hamptonian.  Any assistance in this matter would be appreciated.
  Your brother sends his love and thanks for the beautiful breastplate you sent him. I have to say the detail of the hunting scene you embossed on the surface was truly spectacular.  I can’t imagine wearing it to battle, but I know Cael will take inspiration from its beauty.  Your Grandmother however is not so pleasant and keeps at me as to when she will have another baby to bounce on her knee.  I tell her to keep quiet. She is elven and as such has plenty of time to enjoy any children we might chose to bring to the family.

Ameanir Ceela,
Sessil
  *The second letter written in perfect dwarven*[/i]
[/i]Master Bernar Grindstone
Chief of Olibar
  Master Bernar,
    My name is Tia’Sar’ru Silversmith.  I wish to meet with you and the village lore master to make some inquires of the rich history of your clan and the clans in the area both now and of old.  I am one you recently guided to the Plaques, so my presence is not entirely unknown to you.  Please reply at your earliest convenience.




Yours in Lucinda’s Service,
Dorand guide your Hammer
  Tia’Sar’ru Silversmith
  *Embossed with Tia’s family crest of Lucinda’s lightening bolt and Dorand’s Hammer*
  *the last letter*[/i]
[/i]Mistress Elmilindalethiaratan Elnatioanna,
Great Library, Voltrex
  Mistress Elnatioanna,
I am inquiring as to if the Great Library contains any information of Dwarven Kings and Queens of the ages just preceding the great cataclysm.  If so I would like to study any texts that may be found.  I’m also looking for information on standards and have enclosed a sketch of the particular flag of interest to me.  If you have any concerns in relation to these requests you may address them to myself or Eldárwen Hilliaraname. *on a separate piece of parchment is a sketch representing the standard Tia saw in her dream*[/i]
  Yours in Lucinda’s Service
Tia’Sar’ru
     
     

[minerva]

Turn the other Cheek? Ari, I know it has been ages since I wrote. To be honest the promotion to Threadbound has left me bittersweet about the temple. In my heart I wish to serve the Lady, but I am finding it difficult to reconcile my feelings for those that represent the pillars of her faith.  Firstly Eldarwen advises me to put forth my name for further promotion, noting that time and service would mean little to those in charge if they had not a name to go with it. I followed her advice and got an earful from the priestess reviewing my request. Improper procedure she called it. She said I had no right to be that impatient and that the eyes of the Nightwoven would fall on me if I deserved. It was only the unfortunate incident that befell Drake that allowed me the opportunity to prove my words were not a waste of parchment. The town was dying. Negative energies were exploding from the grounds affecting both man and beast. A quick search of the forests beyond the town revealed a natural cave and the source; a dwarven mage and a failed experiment. As much as I could study it, I knew it’s working beyond me. It had to be shut down by those with more knowledge than I. The wizard dead from his own creations, there was no choice but to make haste back to Spellgard and assemble a team knowledgeable enough to deal with the device. Fate intervened that Spellgard had come looking when my report was later coming than they expected. Still upon returning to the temple, the mood was still that of repressed anger. I did not expect Halfling joy jumps or cartwheels, but to date those I have encountered past my call to service have bordered on cold and rude to temple visitors. Their attitude almost swayed Jharl from the faith and into that of Xeen. That was the first slap on the cheek. The second was the Rites to Affirmation. So much has changed since my affirmation. Either it is a general degradation of respect in the community or an effect of this Warder, but both the solemnness and reverence of such an important event was lost. I was fuming by the end, which Ari is really sad. When Cael pledged to Lucinda is was a joyous occasion. The celebrations after the event were magnificent, yet the people still held themselves with a certain decorum that spoke of the respect they had for both Lucinda and her temple. There were no loud sailors shouting obscenities in the hall. Those to be presented acted with tact and manners. The whole event left me with the feeling of a low based commoner’s wedding, only that would be an insult to some of them I have officiated that had more pomp and circumstance. Enough harping on the Rites; I presented my complaints to Alluiral herself, I can only hope she was as shocked as I at her treatment and the next celebration will be better. My letters to both the great library and the chief of Olibar went unanswered. Somehow given the events of late it does not surprise me. The bright spot in this is the lance is recovered and parts of the blade. The City of Gold did indeed hide a treasure.  This mark confuses me. When Jesahala first spoke of the Elasanien it was of great and dire secrecy. To the point of leaving he own haunts to tell us anything. Now Eldarwen has me using it as a calling card. I guess the important part is that Arxhax’s tomb is safe and the magic once more strengthened. The Ungrid dwarves will send word when we can safely examine the tomb more closely. His axe, and I believe, the missing piece to the blade are sealed within that usual marble.  On a happier note Ari, a few things have happened since my last visit. Jharl and his lady have a place of their own. It saddens me to see the house empty, but Samir and Briar are good company when they can be found. I will have to find another chick to place in my nest soon I think. The other is my discovery of an amazing piece of metal work. The runes and etchings are an intricate piece of art Ari. It will take me time to discover their meanings and to even begin to function with the sheer bulk of the metal. I know it is slightly more that what you and your father trained me for, but I have confidence I will learn to wear it well, and that the meanings of those inscriptions will become clearer. You must tell me what you think.    Healing is an art unlike any other. When dealing with the part one must also consider the whole as one affects the other?..

[minerva]

*The fire in the study burns brightly as the curled form of Tia basks in its warmth. Open on her lap is her journal, while to her side is curling parchment with an official looking seal. Tia seems lost in thought as she ponders over the words on the page.*
“her path in joy not formality, her guides in magic not petty manners, the Rites have always been thus and always shall… last honest joy, not in secrecy or harmful pranks, not in snide remarks or hidden agenda but in honest affection, be it teasing or the lack of formality. To change or assume it was different does a serious harm to what the faith represents to both ourselves and the people who so devotedly look to us for delight in the gifts of the Weave.”  
  It pains me that one charged with the respect and adoration of her people regards manners as petty and formality as stuffy. Is it a product of her humanity that makes her thus? Jonathan was human but knew well how to conduct himself with both pride and decorum as well as give his Gods the reverence and respect they were due. Such a dichotomy of actions. The Priestess in charge of the Fallan Gis gruff and abrasive, concerned more with procedure than merit on one side and the public flippancy of the most recent rites on the other. I must somehow come to terms with what the temple means versus my faith in the Lady. Rest assured my faith in Her is strong. My faith in those that lead in her name is sorely tested.

[minerva]

*looking fresh and rested, Tia curls up in her study at 123 Leilon. The house is quiet with Briar gone, Jharl moved and Samir off somewhere. On her lap is a much neglected journal*   I have turned my devotions inward of late and returned to my village of gold dwarves and their seemly undwarven mannerism. It is indeed refreshing to visit dwarves to do appreciate good ale but do not tolerate public drunkenness and rudeness. I awaited word from either Olibar or the Ulgrid dwarves, but none came. I understand that the poor Ulgrid clan was recently besieged by a sickness, but they are on the mend now. I wish I could have learned earlier and done more to aid them.
  Of the Elasanien I know nothing. They have not seen fit to keep me informed. That coupled with the lack of dwarven response and the events around the temple of late, I am withdrawing from any search. Should they require me for a final rite then they can contact me.
  I spend more time with the common people, treating their ailments, giving comfort and of course studing the weave as best I can. Cael’s band of archers had been stationed in Roldem, so I will travel there soon to visit. Ari continues to perfect her craft and has decided to do as her father and has gone to the dwarves to learn their techniques. Right now she is somewhere underground, mining and hammering and being content. She examined the runes on my armor. They are ancient and surprisingly they are elvish in origin. They seem to draw positive energy to the plates of metal. What this metal is she would not, or could not say without further study. Alas that will have to wait until she returns above ground.
  I returned to Hlint a few days past. I required a supply of bodak teeth for some potions I was preparing. Jharl agreed to help me get them, but along the way we met up with Michael and a Halfling who were after a ring to be found in the crypt. It was a fierce battle deep within the crypt. The teeth were forgotten when survival became the main objective. Even I had to join in the fighting with my staff as the hordes of undead threatened to overwhelm Jharl. Once more the Lady granted me the privilege of returning a soul lost. The risen remains of Storan laid low Michael. The enormous man lay charred in a pool of blood as the battle fought around him. When final Storan was vanquished, I knelt and took the giant hand in mine. It was cool to the touch, yet a spark lay within. Closing my eyes I focused on the spark and in such the green glow of the stone that held this man’s link with a surprising force. I had half expected to encounter a presence of Grannoch, so I was a bit amazed to feel the pull of sunshine and tree and the bounty of nature in all that is Katia in his soul.Lucinda’s grace flashed within me as we helped him return. It is both draining and inspiring that the Lady graces me with such ability.
  In the past months I do admit my faith has been tested. I have come to conclude that my faith is between her and I. The structure and workings of the temple have no credence on me, and while I shall strive to be the best I can for her sake, no more shall I seek the approval of those that hold office with her structure. Her approval is all I require, twas vanity on my part to seek otherwise. I will continue to be her beacon in healing and hope her grace in the weave continues to favor me.
 

[minerva]

Placeholder and Journal finder and OMG the horrible formatting