Legend of Ransera

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.

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?”

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.

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.

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.”