in the hall of the steward

[Paragon]

P A R A G O N

It was an immaculate chamber. Every inch of it was carved from the black obsidian marble that the great tower seemed to be built from. Veins of amber gold ran through the interior, the surface of the black marble was polished to such a magnificent sheen that its surface was mirror-like. The high arched ceiling was accented with golden amber crystal. Threads of aetheric power flowed visibly throughout the chamber, they pulsed with a deep red that was reminiscent of bloody scarlet. At the far end of the chamber, a figure stood dressed in velvet black. His hair was a dark black and his skin a bronzed color from years spent in sunlight. Broad shoulders and a muscular frame bespoke a man accustomed to matters in the realm of things physical. His posture and bearing however, was that of an individual possessed of discipline and refinement. He brought a glass of red liquid to his lips, tipping it back and drinking from it. Pointed ears showed elven heritage. A pair of ruby red eyes studied those who approached.

“Welcome.” His voice carried across the chamber, deep and resonant with the hint of a Hytori accent. Behind the man was a shimmering crystal that levitated lazily in the air. It pulsed steadily, like the beating of some giant heart. The lines of scarlet aether flowed into it, adding to the swirling lights of amber and red.

Aoren blinked, taking in the scene for a moment before glancing behind him. There were a set a tall ebony doors, just as immaculately decorated as the rest of the chamber. They were closed and he had a feeling that they would be a challenge to open.

Both Valaera and Hilana would find themselves standing beside Aoren. The two Solunarians would see the exact same thing before them, the cathedral-esque chamber and its arcane decorations not unfamiliar given the traipsing of Solunarium.

“Please, come forward.” The man seated himself at a nearby table. It was small but large enough to be comfortable for all present. It was carved from the same black marble as the tower itself, lined with runic script and instilled with those same amber gold and scarlet veins that filled the chamber. On the table were various foods and drinks that would be familiar to all present, a mix of Kalzasern and Solunarian dishes and beverages.

Aoren glanced to Valaera and Hilana before walking forward. He cautiously seated himself at the table, allowing his wings to rest comfortably. The man watched each of them steadily, the picture of calm. He took another sip from his glass.

“You are the Steward, I take it.” Aoren posed his inquiry. The man dipped his head. “The Master of this Tower?”

“I am a Caretaker. A Custodian, of sorts.” Those ruby red eyes studied Aoren intensely making the red dragon tense ever so slightly. There was something predatory in that scarlet gaze. The man turned that gaze to Valaera.

“You wished to parlay.” He brought that glass back to his lips and though his expression remained blank, his eyes remained sharp and focused.

[Pharaoh]

It was a strange thing, eyeless and inhibited by all that that new obstacle entailed, to regard these surroundings. To sense the setting with her Craft alone was something she’d been trained to do in her youth at the Academia Arcanum. Impediment work was, after all, part of a classical, Solunarian arcane education and had been for millennia. That Semblance was her capital Craft meant that she’d spent more time at it than most, but still it wasn’t terribly akin to seeing with her mundane eyes. It was as if she was walking through a memory… perhaps a dream. Her vantage came at many angles. After a fashion she could even regard herself in the third person, as she strode straight-backed and smooth as a serpent toward the table provided. She would open her ætheric senses to take in as much as she could beyond the formal… almost familiar façades.

“And what a hospitable caretaker thou art…” The seasoned diplomat said, matching his accent with her own bid at hospitality. She claimed a seat at the table at Aoren’s right hand and gestured for Hilana to be seated ar hers.

“This chamber has been appointed after a most æsthetically pleasing fashion to an Umbrian eye… not that I have any such thing to boast in the literal sense after what we experience on the other side of the gate.” She smirked faintly and even if one were capable of piercing the veil of her obscuring wards, they would have the sense that she was actually vaguely amused by the circumstance. Even as recent and traumatic as it was… or should have been.

“I did.” She confirmed, “And I thank you for meeting me in the absence of our erstwhile companions. I would not be able to speak candidly in the presence of hostile variables… Hither, however, I can inquire after your-…” Her smirk crept a bit higher, “…or, rather, your Master’s Ambitions.” She tipped her head in Aoren’s direction, as if scrutinising his expression from behind her veil. Promptly her gaze returned to the Caretaker.

“I am here as an agent of the Sacred Solunarian Empire and am within my rights to enter covenants that do not conflict with my Faith or my Fealty. As you know enough about my people to make us comfortable in a familiar setting, I suspect you know enough to understand what those limitations betoken. Tell me plain: Are we enemies perforce or might accords be reached that benefit the Ambitions of your masters and mine?”

[Hilana Chenzira]

Hilana hadn’t entirely known what to expect when she had passed through the First Gate, as Servitor 117 had called it. Would they be back in the devastation that they had been in before they had entered the Spire? If that was indeed where they had found themselves when they had left the ruined city, and inside the wondrous halls that they had just now traveled from. She hadn’t hesitated, and at the same time, she was surprised that the Imperials had not made it through the gates with them. If anything, she had looked behind her when she came through, which suggested to the two who had preceded her that more had tried to come through. The path to the Steward lay beyond the First Gate. Along the road would be monuments to their ambition, and the memorials to their failures… if one sought blood, blood would find them. If one sought light, they needed to be careful not to be blinded by it. And if one sought darkness, they needed to be careful not to be consumed by it. And if they sought power… power would be required of them. Perhaps the way it had been before they entered their resting place of Kyr’Kaitaven.

As such, when they had gone through the beautiful archway, Hilana had very much expected a road. Instead, they were inside what was yet another breathtaking cathedralesque structure. Her hands remained on the straps of her rucksack, and she looked around with enormous eyes, taking it all in. Finn would surely want to see and read the details later for his songs and stories, and as it was, she didn’t want to miss anything on the off-shoot chance that any of it would be useful going forward.

When Aoren and Valaera went to the table with the stranger who identified himself as the Caretaker, Hilana followed along. So this tall, well-built person was who they had come to find. For now, until they found out which way it was to be, Hilana elected for keeping her cursed mouth shut. She did, however, bow her head politely at the greeting, and when Sentinel Valaera seated herself at Aoren’s right hand before indicating the third seat to Hilana, the Vastiana seated herself, her hands going to her lap as her eyes and other senses browsed the table and it’s offerings. She was with someone here who had doubtless studied at a look and understood every last detail.

When Valaera’s accent changed to imitate that of the Caretaker’s, she listened to her words, and considered. This could go multiple ways, and it was best for her to follow the cues of those who were far more learned and wiser than she was. She hadn’t come into this quest believing it would be the same as what she had experienced weeks ago, even if the objective more or less remained the same. Solve the issue impacting the world, and see what she could learn and figure out. To that end, she observed the raven-haired man’s reaction to Valaera’s inquiries, her fingers interlaced as she looked beyond him to the shadows, curious as to if they might offer her any insight about this place and the mysterious red-eyed man.

[Paragon]

P A R A G O N

The Steward inclined his head regally at being paid the compliment but responded no further than that. He listened quietly as Valaera presented her case, eyes steady and unwavering. Aoren was staring at the man as though he were searching for something. His infernal eyes scanned the planes of the Steward’s face, his expression that of one clearly trying to place it born from a sense of familiarity.

“Perhaps.” The Steward responded. He set his glass down upon the surface of the table. Crossing one leg over the other, he folded his hands in his lap. “Perhaps not.”

An affirmation of friendship followed by a denial, the statements making clear that negotiations were very much on the table. He turned his head slightly, the aetheric rivers of power fluctuating. They pulsed and swirled as their misty forms took the shape of a planet, one that was surrounded by three moons. The red moon of Ner, the white moon of Xir and now the black moon that orbited with them. What changes it brought were yet to be determined but its appearance had already disrupted the world in an incredible way. Still, to see Ransera spinning there in the expanse of the Great Nether as the ancient elves called it.

Flowing steadily away from the planet and its moons was a stream of aether. While the black moon was steadily exiting its dark eclipse, the aether of the world was still being drained. It continued to absorb what appeared to be the very lifeblood of the planet. With the world still deep in the grasp of a perpetual winter, it appeared grey and nearly lifeless.

“You seek to put an end to the depletion of aether in the world, yes?” The Steward’s face remained blank save for the barest hint of a narrowing of his eyes.

“This can be done. I can make it so.” The Steward looked from the depiction of Ransera to Valaera, Aoren and Hilana. “But it will require three things. Only two of which are still needed.”

He held up two fingers on one hand.

“First, a source of power to make up for the power being lost.” The projection of the planet shifted and became an amulet, one that drifted over to the Stewards now outstretched hand. A grey gemstone that glinted with an opalescent sheen sat at the center of a black amulet.

“It is ironic.” The Steward smirked softly. “Ironic that it should be both within reach and yet so far out of it.”

He looked up at Valaera.

“I do not think I need to tell you what this is.” He held it up long enough for it to be inspected both visually and aetherically. Closing his hand, it vanished. “It can be found within the Nyx Plane. Though, whether the newly anointed God of the Void will be willing to part with it…well…”

The Steward shrugged.

“Second, a book. A tome, the knowledge within it is not for the faint of heart. Deep are its secrets. Powerful are its spells. So much so that it has driven its clockwork keeper mad with the revelations it yields.” Again, the threads of power in the chamber twisted and wove into an image that the three guests could see. A book bound in clockwork metal of ebony and gold set with a singular amber crystal upon the cover.

“Seek it in the place known as the Warrens. There within the Mechanus of the Fourth Deep will you find it.” The Steward went silent, reclining in his chair. Aoren spoke.

“And the third thing?” The Steward stared steadily at the elder dragon. “What is the third thing?”

The Steward gave a slow blink as he continued to stare steadily at Aoren.

[Pharaoh]

Valæra regarded the Steward and then her senses pursued the course of his projections as he began to lay out a rather formidable shopping list of artefacts for them to gather.

“And yet this power isn’t being ‘lost’, is it? Not truly…” Valæra mused, her tone mild as her straight, still posture. “Power does not cease to be. It is merely repurposed. And the purposes toward which these energies are being committed interest me.” She paused for a beat.

“I will be candid, and I hope you will favour me in that same spirit. I will negotiate in good faith, but I cannot come to murky terms. I will require assurances which protect, if not promote, my realm and it’s interests. We are not come hither to end one calamity in favour of a worse one. If we are to provide artefacts that might serve your master, we must have assurances that he will not exploit these boons toward our undoing. If you doubt my resolve…” She lifted a gloved hand to peel away the veil over her face,

“Look into the void of mine absent eyes, which I did freely Sacrifice in lieu of guilelessly entering into a nebulous agreement which could have taken a greater toll than I was prepared to countenance. There is far more I would Sacrifice for Faith and Fealty and if my life be forfeit ere I quit this place of power, Pro Deus et Domina, so be it.” She lowered the hand that remained at her jawline after it pulled the veil away.

“That said, if you are prepared to enter into a true and puissant Covenant on behalf of your master, then we shall come to binding terms in the Dragon’s tongue that protect and preserve Solunarian interests. If such accords be reached, I shall see to it that the Umbrium commits a complement of adventurers to scour all Creation for whate’er is required to bring about an end to this fell imbalance. Such was the task to which I was set by my sovereign prince, and such I will do or die in the attempt.” With that being said, Valæra glanced to Aoren. She, too, was interested in the answer to the question posed, though the level of her interest remained reliant upon the aforementioned concerns of Solunarium.

[Hilana Chenzira]

Hilana followed the Steward’s gaze as he looked at the simulacrum. That was a perspective one rarely saw, but she appreciated it. She watched the way it formed, studying the way it was being steadily being drained. That was what she, Daemon, and Aoren had realized and it was being affirmed, and then confirmed by his words. That was very much what Hilana wanted. She wanted these scourges to stop ravaging her world and sucking it dry so that Ransera could heal and replenish itself. She did notice Aoren’s expression, and wondered about it. She would have to ask him after, because now was certainly not the time.

The Vastiana’s attention returned to the Steward as he said he could do that in exchange for something else, and Hilana tilted her head slightly when he held up two fingers. She considered the fact that this had been ongoing now for over three seasons, this aether harvesting, and perhaps they had enough for what they wanted… but in exchange for stopping the excess harvesting, they wanted further tools with which to advance their plans. She didn’t know what the amulet was, as beautifully crafted as it had been, but the fact that it was within the Nyx Plane, and the God of the Void… Shaeoth… would need to be approached for it. She could only hope Valaera might be willing to entertain her later when she asked about it. Chances were she wasn’t going to get that information, but the girl was curious about the significance and capabilities.

The book was interesting to her, and the fact that it was within the Warrens… worlds on top of worlds, different dimensions, histories… this was some new level of bizarre. She remembered what Talon and Aoren had told her about it before, and the Fourth Deep was going to be another horrific challenge to breach, much less find it. Adventure belonged to the adventurous, and fortune favoured the bold. The third thing, however… she looked between the Steward and Aoren. Some part of her wondered if the third thing was him, and possibly Hector… the ones who had elected to give up something.

When Valaera spoke up to continue the negotiations, Hilana looked towards the Vigila, touching the backs of her thumbs with her fingers as she listened. She was glad of her directness and forthrightness, if only because it made things a bit plainer to her. She was hardly one used to such surroundings or stakes; her own experiences hardly prepared her for the calamities enacted and in action. But Valaera was the heir and right-hand of arguably the most powerful person Hilana had ever come across, and in this setting, it showed. The Princess’s sacrifice had been even more devastating than her own, and she smoothed the fabrics of her skirts, her big brown eyes going back to the Steward to see what he thought of this. They might be able to protect their homeland…possibly at the cost of the rest of the world.

[Paragon]

P A R A G O N

“No. The power is not being lost. It is being gathered.” The Steward gestured around them. The very room that they were seated in flared to life very briefly before settling once more. “You stand within one of the most potent Wells of Power the world has ever known. This edifice however, is but a shadow of what it could be.”

The Steward picked up his wine glass and took a sip from it once more as he listened to Valaera speak. He gave her his full attention, eyes never wavering as she laid out the terms plainly. When she was finished, he canted his head in acquiescense.

“I can appreciate such plain terms.” Leaning back into his chair, the Steward considered his thoughts for a moment before speaking.

“My Master has no desire to impugn upon the sovereignty of Solunarium. Nor do I. While I am not at liberty to discuss the full details of His ambitions, I can make assurances that neither you, your people, your realm or your patrons are the target of His designs. Our aim is for a realm not of this Plane. This world merely holds within it a bounty of resources necessary to harvest. Little else here is of interest to the Master.” He set his wine glass down, unfolded his leg and leaned forward to meet Valaera’s burned out gaze.

“I apologize for the loss you experienced beyond the walls of Kyr’Kaitaven but to shield one from the Cycle of Doom that repeats in the wastes, the Master requires sacrifices be made.” He looked then to Hilana and then again to Aoren who shifted uncomfortably.

“Great Dragon…” He focused on Aoren. Within the blood red of his eyes, Aoren remained the sole focus, a figure surrounded by a sea of crimson. “You know what you surrendered in exchange for the grace that was given to you and yours.”

Aoren stiffened. His jaw tightened and he growled out between his teeth.

“I do not regret my choice.” The Steward smirked.

“No. I suspect not.” The Steward looked back to Valaera and Hilana. “Set your terms, that we may move on to more pressing things.”

[Pharaoh]

Valæra nodded slightly as the Steward vindicated her assertions, though her visage remained implacably stoic.

“Your comforts come in the company of new concerns, Steward…” The Sentinel noted with an arched eyebrow.

“While it is some consolation to know that Solunarium is not being targeted intentionally, this eclipse has proven well that not all damage is delivered with intent. Much might be collateral. If your Master’s siphoning of resources continues to draw from the pool my nation requires to progress, then this is an aggression I would not fain abet.

“We have devoted vasty pools of Power to offsetting the effects of the Eclipse over Atraxia. Had we not acted with decisive haste, the loss of life would have been formidable. While I do not expect your Master to be concerned with such things that have little bearing on his greater ambitions, our interests must be considered if we are to align ourselves with your lot.

“If we are to aid in your Master’s endeavour, we will need to know that the interests of this new realm do not overlap with ours in a way that harm us. We do not wish to be left within a barren wasteland vying for scraps of power as your Master drains valuable resources to serve other ambitions in other lands.” She pursed her lips.

“I’m sure you will see there is little point in parsing or dissembling. I am the premiere diplomat in my kingdom and I will mine any gaps in our understanding until we are crystal clear. And in the interest of clarity, let me say this: I will require explicit assurances of not only the sustained sovereignty of Solunarium, but also the welfare of its subjects. No further harm must come to my people as a result of your master’s ambitions, whether derived from malice or negligence. If these assurances might, perchance, be complemented with some sort of actual worthwhile boon that might improve the standing of our realm, I imagine I will be able to garner greater resources from my superiors to accelerate the completion of these tasks.”

[Hilana Chenzira]

Hilana was not new to the concept of Sacrifice. It was very much a part of every day life in Solunarium; every aspect of life there involved Sacrifice. There was no such thing as a free lunch, one had to give to get. But Aoren had been the one to make the sacrifice along with Hector that saved the group; she and Valaera had refused to make such vague deals. For better or for worse. She thought about the petrified hand in her featherlight satchel, and made herself still her hands in her lap. Fidgeting was unbecoming in a situation like this. She watched with an inquisitive expression as the Steward leaned back and continued the discourse with Valaera.

There was a truth in what was being said. Power didn't vanish, it was repurposed or moved. What was taken from one was given to another. An animal might lose its life so that the predator could eat instead. Life may be sacrificed to the Gods, so that they gain that strength and vitality, and whatever power the sacrifice possessed. And now the harvested aether was being gathered in order to use it somewhere else. A realm that was not of this Plane. She knew of the Elemental ones, and that there were multiple Planes that the Cardinal Rune of Summoning drew from. She knew that some deities had their own Planes according to myth and legend, but surely, there had to be more. Was that what the Steward's Master had designs on? Something like that? But from there, could they not do something to or with Ransera?

There was a lot to consider here, and when the Steward addressed Aoren, she looked over towards the tall redheaded man, concern in her eyes for him and the way he stiffened. There really was no rest for the weary, and he had given up something considerable. But that there was a history here that he didn't know about, that they didn't know about, and she knew full-well just how substantial a dragon's power was, and what one could do with it. The Museum Draconum had whole displays and there were many, many, many stories to attest to their strength.

Valaera's determination was admirable, and she wasn't about to let anything be left unsaid. Smart, especially in a place like this. That was too much of a risk, too big of a chance. Not when such strengths and the whole Kingdom -- and the world besides -- were at stake. The Princess had the experience and the training for this, considering she was Princess Cithaera's right-hand woman, and this was something her life had been worked towards and around. She did wonder what 'more pressing things' were, but she had little doubt that they would be revealed when the Steward was ready.

[Aegis]

"I will provide you with any and all assurances you require so long as they do not cross the directives given by my Master."

A nod of his head conjured a glyph in the air, dark black with a crimson glow around the edges. It was in a language recognizable to Aoren and his kind and very few others. Draconic. The Steward effortlessly copied the glyph, the two siblings floating in the space between him and Valaera. One he took for himself, and placed on the skin over his chest where it burned and seared the flesh. It carved itself there, forming its shape in the already healing scar tissue. It's sibling he froze solid, and it floated over toward Valaera.

"Take that back to those you serve. Have your mages and scholars study it, scrutinize it, test it. They will tell you what I say now. This glyph will open a contract between myself and whomever you deem fit to wear it as the representative of Solunarium. This contract will allow us to set the terms as desired by both parties, will allow us to communicate unhindered and undetected at any point. And should either party break their terms, they will find themselves stripped entirely of their own individual sovereignty and at the mercy of the aggrieved."

He cast his glance briefly over at Hilana, taking a moment to size her up, before returning his gaze back to Valaera. "We will spare Solunarium in our endeavors when the contract is struck, but to do so, we will need to take more from other lands." His eyes darkening upon his elven face, "If we are to get in bed with one another, we will require you to put some skin in the game."

He paused for a moment, "Select a nation to carry the burden in the stead of your own, and force them to do so. That is our terms."

His eyes sidled back over to Hilana, a small smile growing there, "I've heard so much about your capacity for conversation and I find myself slightly disappointed to have been denied such a pleasantry."

He leaned back in his chair, "Please, return to your leaders. I will know if you have taken the glyph and we can finalize this agreement. I look forward to seeing your terms chiseled upon the Aetherium. You will neither be assaulted nor tested as you depart. Return without invitation or the glyph and we can enjoy a new song and dance. Until then, I have my Master's wishes at hand."

The doors to the great chamber opened once more, and a hand was raised to wave them out. His business was concluded, for the moment and he waited for them to depart. And as they did, a pair of thoughts wormed their way into Hilana's mind. In his voice, "The realm from whence you stole her is more than a dumping ground for terrors and choices not taken. It is as alive as you and I and grows weary of its enslavement at the hands of those who call themselves the gods." A pause, "A curious map you have.."

!

Message from: Aegis

Hello! I've stepped in to wrap up the entirety of these two threads pertaining to this global, in lieu of Paragon. Life always brings challenges and that made his continuation of these threads rather difficult. I'm coming in at the top of the ninth inning to just finish it out and there really shouldn't be so much more to do. Please feel free to do any posts you feel necessary here while in the Hall of the Steward, then return to Into the Wild Blue to finalize everything. Unless you require direct answers/responses from me, you all may self moderate yourselves to completion. At that point, I will review both of these threads. As a point of a note and a practice of transparency, Hector was refused entry into this breakaway thread due to his practicing of Metagaming during the course of this quest. This was discussed extensively with him first by Paragon then by Pharaoh. I would like to apologize on behalf of the Staff of Ransera for how slow this particular event has come to a close, considering the weight and gravity of it on the lives of all PCs both involved and in the world at large. As such, when I hand out my review, there will be bonus Exp given to the PCs to compensate for these massive delays in plots, growth, etc. We're sorry, and we will try to do better on events moving forward. I look forward to the continuance and completion of these threads and what they may lead after the fact. Ding me anytime if you have questions, concerns, or need me to jump back in here. Thank you, you all have been lovely.