[SIZE=18]Stone[/SIZE]In the quiet solitude of Beryl's temple, an Elven priest removes his gloves before kneeling to pray. When he finishes his prayer he approaches a young priestess to give donation to the temple. She greets him, silently nodding as he opens a dark pouch which hangs heavily at his side. She continues to watch, observing as he reaches into the bag producing a finely cut gem. In the dimly lit temple the clear stone sparkles with remarkable color. The young priestess takes the diamond, placing it carefully in a ornate wooden box beside her. The priest nods with respect and turns to leave in silence.
"If I may be so bold," The priestess' voice breaks the silence of the temple. The elf turns back to face her. "Let me see your hands."
She takes his hands in hers and looks them over.
"These aren't the hands of a priest, Emerald Laylluanilm, or even of a Gem crafter. What have you been doing with these hands?"
He looks back silently at his hands, worn and calloused. His tired hands. She awaits an answer.
"Building." His reply is quiet but the meaning in his voice rings clearly in the quiet temple halls.
"Building what?"
"Stone." He answers while pulling his hands back from her.
"The town?" She asks, a certain skepticism in her voice.
"Aye." His answer is clear and simple. He has spent his time in the last seven years gathering the resources to rebuild a town that had fallen over a quarter of a century ago and with his own two hands he has been helping to erect it.
"But, Emerald, a temple of Her Perfection has already been built, here, in the Castle Sun." She pauses briefly before continuing. "Some say you should let the past lie, move on."
His downward gaze answers in reply.
"But why? Why rebuild?" Her young voice resembles an innocent whisper from the past, such simple questions.
"Hope." He closes his eyes and presses his lips together lightly. His green eyes open looking back to her. Aged beyond his years his elven features display a calm as he continues to speak. "To some, the fall of Stone was the fall of just another town. A casualty of the war against Bloodstone." He pauses briefly. "It never was that to me."
He continues. "Regardless of any of that, in these dark times a message needs to be sent of those who won't back down against the odds." His voice resonates in the temple air. A transformation from before, he speaks with new energy that seems to command respect from the silence around him. "Stone will be the pinnacle, the crown of our accomplishments..." A glimmer lights up his eyes for a moment and he stops speaking. The words he would speak have become a natural extension of him now. He has been seen preaching for days calling out for aid. Some days his voice is but a horse whisper from repeating them so often. The words still have meaning but now is not the time to preach.
She looks to him as he grows silent again. "What is it?"
The tone in his voice softens. "Have you ever heard the story of its fall?" He looks back to her.
"Of course, who hasn't. There was a big battle an-"
He interrupts, "From someone who was there?"
"Of course not. Everyone knows that all who defended in that battle died."
The corner of his mouth turns up in a slight smile. After a moment of silence "That is untrue."
She looks back to him with interest, by now several other passing worshipers have gathered around the Emerald and the priestess, overhearing the conversation, pausing to listen to the tale.
"It began as a night like any other. A normal night on Layonara. But something was amiss in the heavens."
He takes a seat, with a gesture bidding the others to do the same.
"In the prior year Roldem had fallen to Bloodstones's forces and there was conflict in the heavens that caused a rift between Ilsare and Lucinda. Later that seemed like nothing in comparison to what happened in the heavens next.
"That night, in a dazzling of lights, the stars lit the sky, the constellation of the Viper moved to attack two other constellations as Layonara looked on. It attacked Xeen's gift and then it turned on Beryl's Geode. Her Perfection's star then fell from the sky. Nobody knew what it meant at first but the wave of panic could be felt through Mistone and Alindor.
"Quickly they gathered. Heros: the Dragoncalled of Layonara. By now, news of the strike had spread and the meaning of the stars became clear. Stone was under siege.
"Those who had rushed to the city were pushed back, as fiendish reinforcements fortified their positions within.
"Shortly, a plan was constructed by the Dragoncalled. Dividing into two columns, one would attack the city from the main trade road in through the Crest Hills and one would strike through the narrow pass to the northeast coming from Lan's Port.
"When battle was entered, they fought their way through the streets of the town but they were beset by an army far more sinister than they had expected: demons and devils fighting together against them. Finally, after hours of battle, the enemy was dwindling. But through those hours, one by one, the Dragoncalled fell to their deaths as well, until few remained.
"Those few continued to fight, drawing upon unheard of reserves of strength and endurance to deny Bloodstone the city. Some men say that for every one of the Dragoncalled who fell on that field, five fiends were cut down, but everyone else says it was at least fifteen. As the battle raged no one realized that the town had already been destroyed by the fury of the combatants. By then, there was little left to save.
"Regardless, the battle refused to end and the enemy fought the Dragoncalled until there were but two yet breathing. A halfling follower of the Great Gold and a dark and mysterious elven woman.
"The last of the fiends pummeled these two with fist, blade, and spell until just one Erinyes remained against them. The halfling kept her distance and twirling, slung stones at the fiend while the elf slipped in and out of the shadows keeping the halfling alive with healing magics that she unleashed from an array of wands, elixirs, and other obscure magical items. After ensuring the halfling's safety the elf would spring forward to distract the beast's spells, quickly dodging with supernatural weaves into the shadow, right as they seemed to strike her.
"Their tactics proved effective until a spell of unnatural darkness blinded the two heros. In the darkness the halfling fell drawing her last breath. The elf, however, was able to step away into deeper shadows, evading the fiend's attacks in the dark. Biding her time until the moment was right, the elf sprung forth from the shadows, flying in a graceful, arching leap towards the winged fiend's head, her small axes crossed in front of her, muscles taut to slash.
"In a precise strike the elf's axes dug into the fiend's flesh as the Erinyes clawed back. The two tumbled hard to the ground struggling amongst the flame and ruin within the city walls. Fighting in the blood and the mud, until suddenly an ear piercing shriek of pain cried out to the heavens.
"The Erinyes fell prone to the ground with an axe fatally planted deep within her side.
"Slowly, the elf pulled herself to her feet. Wiping blood and tears from her face she looked around at what was left of the town. Bodies of ally and enemy blanketed the ground. The streets ran red with blood as a cool Autumn's Harvest rain drained from the clouded and smoke filled skies.
"In a choked cry the elf called out for anybody that was alive. A soft wind carrying the sound of heavy wings beating, as a pair Balor High Princes circled over head, was the only answer.
"Knowing the shadows could not hide her from their glowing eyes of true sight, the elf closed her eyes tightly and sinking to her knees she awaited a fatal blow from above. But her death never came, and once again the town spoke a deathly silence.
"As the elf climbed to her feet, the lingering taste of blood and realization of what was left around her caught up to her, she began to feel ill. She held her stomach as it wretched with the pain.
"That is when she found it." He pauses a moment.
The eyes of those looking on in the small church have doubled in number now as a group gathers listening to Quillwem's tale. The priests, priestesses, and Berylites, listen in silence. Some with tears in their eyes as the horrible battle is recounted.
"Found what?" A single sniffly voice breaks the silent air.
Quillwem's eyes smile warmly before he continues. He swallows slightly trying to quench his parched throat.
"A raise dead scroll."
He continues. "A single battered scroll, tucked away into the lining of her leather armor. Stored with a promise that it would only be used if she was left with no other choice."
"As the elf looked around at the death and debris, she knew the scroll was meant for this time. Carefully, she searched the bodies of her allies looking for a priest. Finding an allied priest of Folian, the elf read the scroll aloud and united his soul back with his body with the scroll's powerful magics. The priest in turn, raised a second priest, until slowly one by one the priests and priestesses who had fallen, gave breath to all those who had fallen to defend Stone.” Quillwem exhales a heavy sigh gathering his thoughts for a moment.
"Alas, the town was already destroyed, and the enemy would soon return to take hold of the emptiness that remained.”
A quiet whisper erupts between several of those gathered, it echoes in the silence.
"But ...” He pauses, the room growing silent once more.
“That is how I met her." Quillwem looks up, his eyes falling beyond the group as if speaking to an unseen presence.
"Who?" The priestess asks in reply.
"Lalaith."
"Was she the elf who survived the battle?"
Quillwem nods quietly
"You see..."
He continues with a peculiar look in his eyes as if remembering.
"After that moment, when she saw The Dragoncalled return from dead, Lalaith understood how a single scroll could turn the tides of battle. She understood the hope it instilled. She began to construct a plan, calling forth any who may aid her in seeking resources to create as many scrolls of this nature as possible.
"Of course, it is not nearly as easy as it sounds. To create a scroll with the magics to bring a soul back, to breathe breath into a lifeless body, is not trivial. And neither are the resources needed.
"Persistent in her course, Lalaith learned that the most difficult ingredient for such a scroll was the mineral diamond needed.
"Over the next months she formed several expeditions to The Great Rift offering to have a scroll made for those that would aid her. To her fortune their were many friend and ally who were willing to help.
He smiles fondly as he speaks. "This is where I come in."
"Maybe it was coincidence, maybe fate. Perhaps an act of Beryl."
He turns eyes upwards in silent thanks to his Goddess. "Whatever the cause, I was asked on one such expedition, by a mutual friend named Alantha, who was going to aid Lalaith in mining diamonds, and knew they wouldn't be able to do it alone.
"As a priest of Beryl how could i resist an expedition for such gems?
"Simple. I could not."
"Slowly, we made our way through the rift enduring the trials and the resistance laid before us. Slowly, I became interested in more than just the white gems that laid on our path ahead. Captivated by this elf, this... shadow, who fought so bravely and survived the battle at Stone, I began to see that she herself was much like a beautiful mineral diamond, raw and waiting to be defined.
"Perhaps that is why I offered my assistance, or perhaps it was something else that pulled on me to do so. Whatever the initial thought, I found myself offering my services to use the resources she had gathered to create these scrolls that could change battles' fates.
Quillwem breaths in quietly as he continues. "What followed were long afternoons spent laboring over a scribing table, as I struggled to scribe the powerful words and instill the proper magic onto blank mahogany scrolls. Meanwhile, Lalaith would sit, as a shadow cast on the floor, watching, waiting, silently.
"Eventually we would talk, this shadow and I, our chance meeting blossoming into something of a friendship, then an understanding, and soon more.
"Despite a troubled past, she took a chance on me, and I on her." Quill smiles quietly, his eyes looking around at those present in the room.
"But that is another story." His voice takes on a different tone, his words coming at a faster rhythm.
"Meanwhile, after the first battle at Stone had ended and the Dragon Called had retreated from the chaos, the empty town was reoccupied by enemy forces. Fortified by an unbelievable number of demons, devils, and other unworldly creatures. We realized then that not everybody had escaped when the town fell.
"It became my turn to stand up for Stone.
"After months of scouting expeditions by Lalaith and other scouts, no way could be found safely into the city. It seemed almost hopeless.”
“But, Beryl, bless her, sent to me a message.
"In a dream one night I dreamt of the path. The way in which we could enter into the city.
"And so, once more we prepared for battle.
"First seeking aid from those more military minded than myself, I devised a plan to enter into the city. A small army of whatever Dragoncalled I could gather. Armed with healing potions, magical elixirs of all sorts, and of course Lalaith's raise dead scrolls.
"On a dark night we marched down Crest hills bringing our first battalion head on against the forces that occupied the city outskirts. With little trouble our army dispatched the guards at the camp and found the path which Beryl had shown me.
"When we arrived in Stone we were fortunate to have the high ground. Taking the enemy by surprise we had a great advantage and were able to push back the forces that occupied the ruined city walls. Of course the enemy fought back with more vigor than we had anticipated forcing our only reserve battalion to join the battle. We were able to take the city and hold it long enough to dig through the collapsed temple walls and free the twenty trapped Berylites. But, then as the earth began to shake and rumble we knew that enemy forces sought to return. We could have never expected to hold the land with out numbers so small, and we were forced to retreat. Many would deem our losing Stone a failure, but in a way it was a small victory as those trapped were set free.
"For a second time the city was taken back by the enemy. Stone was now only a desolate patch of land and ruin.
"Hope that the town would be ours dwindled. Our focus had to turn from the town, there were more pressing foe to focus on.
"As it were, in the decade following, Bloodstone was defeated and the shadows overtook the sky. Milara's domain on Alindor shifted and the very place where Stone once stood became... unoccupied." Quillwem looks around the room. "Now is the time. We rebuild."
"The contract signed with Milara just past its expiration. I had hoped to have the foundation of the city laid long before that..."
His features display a slight tinge of doubt. but his voice reveals none.
"But, we are still in need of more resources."
"We have broke ground, A new temple will be the first structure erected." He glances briefly at his hands, almost self consciously before continuing with more vigor than before. "With the help of the Church of Beryl, the Leringard Arms Inn and Tavern, and other donator's and foundations, I have raised over two million true in donation. But still raw materials and resources are needed. Workers to rebuild, patrons to repopulate... "
"I feel as if I cannot rest until the town stands again."
"Don't you see?" He looks almost pleadingly to those listening to the tale, a few of them nodding. Most of them ready to support them how they can.
The priestess from before speaks up. "I do see, now." She continues. "But Emerald, to build a town with your own hands."
Quillwem looks back to the priestess respectfully waiting for her to finish.
"What possibly drives you?"
Quillwem smiles warmly back. "Hope. Faith..."
He continues. "In my Goddess" He smiles briefly "and in my shadow."
"Beryl bestows favor granting me the ability to bring beauty into the world. I will restore her temple and town to its former glory."
"As for my shadow... You did not expect that the story of Lalaith and myself would end there did you?"
"She grants me hope for the future. A better future. Once Stone is complete we are to have a celebration there. A wedding."
A few whispers echo in the temple air as Quillwem once more grows silent, his eyes traveling around the room.
Quitely. "Stone will stand again."
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