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Jelarthna casually brushed his long blonde hair behind his pointed ears and looked up at the morning sun. "Right on time," he smiled to himself. He settled his heavy backpack more comfortably across his shoulders, and crossed a bridge over another of Marsember's many canals. His movements are smooth and graceful, but the discerning eye can tell that his belt hangs slightly lower than is usual for him, probably due to several heavy looking pouches dangling from it. Balancing the other side of the belt is a long sword with an ornate handle in a very well crafted scabbard. Despite being peacebonded, it seems to possess an aura of menace. Nearby stood the goal of his trip, the Mage Guild. Jelarthna went inside, taking off his pack and walking over to a bench in the entry hall. He sat down with a bit of a sigh and closed his eyes meditatively. After a few moments, a young woman in a novice's robes walked over to him and bowed. "May I help you, sir?" she asked. Jelarthna looked up and upon seeing the young lady, stands up and bows back to her. "You need not concern yourself with me, young one," he smiles, "I am waiting for the Lady Zoya." She seems a little taken aback, but Jelarthna is unable to tell if it's because of his behavior, or because he is waiting for Zoya. "Very well, sir. Please clap if you require anything." She bows again and moves into the recesses of the entry hall. Jelarthna watches her leave and shakes his head smilingly. He closes his eyes and begins breathing evenly. After a few minutes, the sound of heavy footsteps and the creak of carried equipment carries to his ears. Jelarthna looks up and sees Zoya approaching, but still well down the hallway. He grins ruefully and mutters, "I've known dwarves that made less noise than this..." "I heard that!" Zoya calls to him in her deep, almost mannish voice. Jelarthna glances around, and sees her faerie dragon perched on a light fixture a few feet away. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn the little creature was smirking at him. He rises and bows deeply in apology, "I intended no offence, milady. I was merely making an observation..." he grins, "But one you were not intended to hear, I assure you. Your little friend seems quiet enough for the both of you." As if on cue, the faerie dragon flies over to Zoya's shoulder and receives affectionate scratch on the chin. "He's good at several things. Well, are you ready to go?" she asks, settling her pack more securely about her shoulders. "I would be elsewhere were I not, Lady. Let us be off." When he stands up, her size becomes truly evident, as she tops the fairly tall elf by several inches. Jelarthna looks up at her curiously and inquires, "Did you do something to your hair? It doesn't seems quite as purple as usual." "It doesn't?" She looks up and around. "It's probably just the lighting in here. They usually have the apprentices practice their light spells to keep entry hall lit, so it comes out a little different each time." Jelarthna looks around for a moment, then shrugs. He opens the door and holds it open for Zoya, and the two of them set out. They travel uneventfully through the morning, passing the time with small talk and the occasional sidetrack. As early afternoon comes upon them, they stop for a light lunch, and it's not long before Jelarthna begins to examine their surroundings with some familiarity. "We're getting close to where I felt those odd impressions." Zoya stops then, takes off her pack and begins pulling out some strange looking items. "Give me a moment, I'd like to make some preliminary readings." She assembles several odds and ends, and seems to be noting down something. Jelarthna observes her activity with a great deal of curiosity, and not a little confusion. "If you don't mind my asking, what is all of that?" he asks Zoya. "Shh," she replies, holding up a finger for a moment. She continues her baffling activities for another few minutes, then gives something of a sigh and looks up at Jelarthna. "What were you saying?" "I was asking what all of this stuff is. And wondering what it is that you're doing." Zoya eagerly begins an explanation, and speaks for a few moments before she notices that Jelarthna's eyes are beginning to glaze over. Smiling, she asks, "Am I boring you?" Jelarthna shakes his head and comes back to himself. "I apologize. I found myself reliving days at school for a moment there. I'm afraid your theories and such are a bit over my head." "Perhaps it's something you should pay more attention to?" "You're probably right," he says, "but I've always been a little more wrapped up in the practical applications of magic, and much less on theory and metamagic. I always figured I'd have plenty of time for that once I settled down and my wanderlust didn't act up quite so much." "I suppose that is more of an option for an elf than for most of us. I can't help getting wrapped up in the thrill of discovery..." she trails off wistfully for a moment. "Well, shall we continue?" "By all means," he replied. Jelarthna and Zoya continue on, pausing occasionally for Zoya to take more of her readings, but she finds nothing of significance. In a couple of hours, Jelarthna leads them to a large, primitive cairn. He looks at it in silence for a moment, then turns to Zoya, "This is where the horse died." She looks at the pile of stones with a bit of surprise and looks over at Jelarthna. "Can you find the place you first felt what spooked you and your horse?" He nods and leads her some distance away. "This is the place." He looks around somewhat expectantly. "As I said, when I returned here after the incident, I couldn't sense anything out of the ordinary, and things seem pretty normal now." "Appearances can be deceiving," Zoya tells Jelarthna, who groans at the cliché. "Suitably reprimanded, milady. Please proceed to look beyond the appearances of this place." Zoya does just that. She makes a circle in the grass and casts a couple of spells. Then she moves on to assembling the strange tentacled device again. Before she has the task completed, the mechanism goes berserk. Multicolored pulses of light flicker randomly about its surface, and the arms wave madly in all directions before sticking themselves in the ground. With that done, it ceases all activity. "Fascinating," she murmurs, making some notes and examining the device and the area in detail. During this Jelarthna looked on speechless. He reaches up with his left hand to close his own jaw, and seems to have trouble breathing. Suddenly, a wave of cold rushes over him, and the world seems to grow dark; yet the sun still shone brightly. "Zoya! The feeling is back!" She looked up, and then shivered slightly. Just as she began casting a divination of some sort, two popping sounds came from a few yards behind her. In one continuous motion Jelarthna looked over, drew his sword and leaped between Zoya and the two lesser demons that had just appeared. He spat out something elven that sounded like a curse, and cried out "Zoya, get back!" She immediately stopped her spell and jumped up to face the adversaries. Her faerie dragon reacted just as quickly, taking wing and zipping over to harass one of the demons. It's attacks were ineffectual against the enemy's tough hide, but helped take some of the pressure off of Jelarthna, who was concentrating on keeping the demons from getting around him to where Zoya and her machine were. Zoya mentally rifled through the spells she had available and compared it to what she know about demons. Hoping to end it quickly, she started an immobilization spell. A small part of her attention kept track of the fight in front of her, and she almost became distracted by the slow, almost mesmerizing movements of Jelarthna's sword and his dancelike movements. "How can he possibly be holding them off?" she wondered briefly, but wherever a claw or tail came around, the sword seemed to be waiting there to parry it. She completed her spell, and one of the demons froze solid in midstep and fell over on its side. "Excellent work, milady!" Jelarthna cried. He broke into a furious all-out attack that pummeled the remaining demon backwards. It managed to land a blow to Jelarthna's torso through this assault that tore through his clothing, but skittered harmlessly off of the elven chain beneath. It was instantly clear that this fight was going to be over soon. Zoya walked over to the paralyzed demon and attempted to question it with the aid of a translating spell, but to no avail. In the midst of her questioning, the fighting sounds stopped and Jelarthna strode over and looked up at her questioningly. "I'm not getting anything useful out of it," she told him, "I suspect it doesn't know anything." "I'm not surprised," Jelarthna replies, "These creatures aren't very bright, so it's usually pretty pointless to tell them anything important. Shall I go ahead and dispatch it before your spell wears off?" "No need," says Zoya. She calmly draws a softly glowing dagger from her belt and does the job herself. As she cleans off the weapon, Jelarthna appears somewhat startled, but nods in approval. "You were divining when these demons appeared. Did you get anything about why they showed up, or who or what may have sent them?" He asks. "No, nothing specific. It felt akin to a magic surge at the time, but it was persistent. As far as I can tell, this area is not abnormally magical, and yet something isn't quite right. But I did detect an unusual aura of Chaos, and at least one piece of the Tower." Her eyes almost shine with the last words. "I think it's under the ground over here. Grab a shovel and help me dig." Zoya immediately sets to. Her faerie dragon, seemingly unaffected by the earlier excitement, appears somewhat infected by his mistress' enthusiasm and flutters around restlessly. Zoya begins digging relentlessly, and Jelarthna joins her in resignation. "But what does this have to do with that weird feeling?" he asks her. "I don't know yet. But I think this might -- Whoa!" Zoya stopped abruptly. The hole being made suddenly broke through to a dark area, which she and Jelarthna managed to jump out of before falling through. They look down into the hole. Though pitch dark, it conveyed an impression of vast openness, and the phenomenon began only a foot and a half down. "Did you feel yourself break through anything?" inquires Jelarthna, "I know I didn't." Zoya shakes her head negatively. "This isn't natural. I think... I think it's a portal of some kind. But why underground? Why horizontal?" "A portal, eh? I've never seen one done horizontally, but I can't think of a reason why it can't be done that way." Jelarthna thinks for a few moments. "This is too much for coincidence. I don't like it; this smells like a trap. Perhaps we should go ba..." "Well, let's go!" Zoya says, tying a rope to a tree several feet away. "What are you doing?" Zoya looks Jelarthna dead in the eye and says, "Not only is this an intriguing scenario, but there's likely something related to the tower involved in that portal. I'm going through. Are you coming with me, or not?" He looks back at her steadily, then sighs deeply. "Very well," he says, bowing to her. He shoulders his pack, walks past her and starts down the rope. Zoya smiles eagerly while gathering up her things and then follows him down. Inside, there is no light; not even anything penetrating from the hole they climbed through. "Are you up there, Lady?" calls Jelarthna after a minute. "Of course." "Good. I think it's time to do something about light," he says. After a few short magic words, light begins to emanate from a small stick Jelarthna is holding. "That's better." He looks around, seeing only more darkness outside the sphere of light. "Then again, maybe not." "Wherever we are, it's huge. Let's see if we can find the bottom while I can still hold on to the rope." "Oh, right! Sorry about that," Jelarthna says sheepishly. They climb downward for a long time. Then they do it some more, and then a little more. Then they find the bottom...of the rope. "Oh great," mutters Jelarthna, "What now? Can you climb back up?" "I...I don't think so," pants Zoya. "This is a very long rope. I didn't expect us to climb down so far. I'm afraid I won't have the strength to make it back up. Besides, I still want to go down." "Hmmm. If I weren't carrying anything, I could probably make it. This is not a good situation." He says, then climbs up to Zoya's place on the rope. "Okay, climb onto me and let go of the rope, please." Once she had done so, he drops the light stick, counts to three, then releases his own hold on the rope. Jelarthna carefully watches the stick, even when the faerie dragon grabs hold of his shoulder and digs his claws through the elven chain for a better hold against the wind. The falling continues for a few minutes, before Zoya yells in his ear, "I hope you used a Continual Light spell!" "No, I didn't!" He hollers back, and she tightens her grip on him. Soon after that exchange, the stick stops moving, and Jelarthna whips out a Featherfall spell. They float to the ground and land softly by the still glowing stick. The ground is a smooth, black substance, appearing much like obsidian, but obviously different from the volcanic glass. "We might want to figure out where we are before we try wandering around," says Jelarthna. He takes another look around. "I have the horrible feeling we're not on the material plane anymore. By the way, you have a very strong grip." He rubs his side tenderly Zoya smiles for moment. "I think you're right. About the first thing, that is. This place has a very different feel to it." Jelarthna groans slightly. "I really didn't want to hear that!" Zoya starts pulling out some spell components and her strange device. "Wait a second," says Jelarthna. He readies and casts a spell of his own, and looks slightly relieved when he's done. "We're in a pocket plane of some sort. It could be fairly safe, but we have no idea what's in here, and why." "Why don't we find out, then?" asks Zoya, assembling her strange machine. Jelarthna grabs his hair and begins pulling in frustration. "Her curiosity streak is even worse than mine!" he mutters fiercely to himself. He stops short of pulling any out when he hears a beeping noise. Zoya's detection device is clearly picking up something, but she looks a bit puzzled at the results. "It's almost like it's all around us..." In a few moments, she almost seems to glow with delight. "We...we might be inside!" Right as she jumps up from her crouch, the ground shakes thunderingly, and cracks run through the entire area. Huge chunks of the odd black stuff begin heaving and turning. Jelarthna jumps unsteadily to the chuck that Zoya is clinging to, and grabs a handhold nearby. Soon, the colors begin to change. Greens and browns run through the ground, and it begins to look exactly like normal dirt and grass. Pillars form and branch out, eventually turning into trees, with leaves and bark colored normally. After everything settles, the confused pair stands up and takes a long look around. In the sky, something bright flashes into being and grows to become a sun, revealing a sylvan landscape. Jelarthna gasps in astonishment. "I grew up here. This is my old home." Zoya looks around carefully, examining everything closely. "It's a lovely place, but why would this place mirror something from your childhood?" "I...I don't know." Noticeably pale, he sits down and begins carefully controlling his breathing. "This is wrong," he mutters to himself softly, "this is very, very, wrong." A high pitched scream pierces the air, instantly energizing Jelarthna into action. He starts running in the direction of the commotion. Zoya starts after him, and even though her legs are longer, she is unable to maneuver through the undergrowth with the same ease as Jelarthna. As she falls behind, her faerie dragon takes wing and darts off after Jelarthna. Moments later, she catches up to them. Jelarthna is rooted to the spot, staring in horror at a scene unfolding in front of them. A pair of orcs has a hold of a lovely young elf maiden, and are chuckling cruelly, occasionally smacking her. An obviously young elf runs into the clearing, wielding a short sword. One of the orcs laughs, and launches himself at the young elf. He barely gets out of the way, and tries to counter-attack. With only a couple of blows, it's obvious that he has received little or no training with a sword, and the orc quickly ends the fight by smacking him into a tree. The beast gives the youngster a once over, and seeing the free flow of blood from his head, turns back to his partner. The whole scene wavers slightly and thankfully fades from view and hearing, leaving an empty clearing. "What was that?" Zoya starts to ask, but trails off when she looks down at Jelarthna and it suddenly hits her. He was the young elf in the scene. "Ah! He seems to be taking it rather hard," mused a deep, gravelly voice behind them. Zoya spins around, but Jelarthna doesn't move. She sees a rather small man, dressed in flowing red robes. "Of course, he probably wouldn't be quite so affected without the...helping pushes I've given him." He smiles, and a muscle in his cheek spasms several times, but he shows no signs of noticing it. "Who are you?" Zoya demands. "An old friend of Jelarthna's. He has demonstrated some remarkably poor t-timing on a couple of occasions, long ago. It has taken me many long years to get this ch-ch-chance, and it is sweet to behold. As we speak, our friend is living through every-y failure and failing in his life. In a few days, he should be quite mad." He stutters erratically, and slightly slurs a word periodically. At the end of this little diatribe, he laughs heartily, with just a touch of the maniacal. "I think I might have something to say about tha..." Zoya begins, but her voice is cut off suddenly. "No," says the small man with a big smile, "No I don't think you do. I suspect few could challenge-ge my new power. My skill will grow as I learn better contr-tr-trol, and I w-will become like unto a god!" With a maniacal laugh, and with another occurrence of the strange tic, he disappears. Zoya walks over to Jelarthna. She tries shaking him, slapping him, and even pouring water over his head. Nothing seems to phase him. For what seems to be two days, Zoya finds that she is in a very limited area, and nothing she tries seems to have any effect. Her device still seems to indicate something in every direction, and the remaining divinations she tries reveal nothing else of use. She manages to feed Jelarthna with a little bit of effort, but she can't budge him from the place he was standing. In frustration, she finally begins to go through his things, searching for something that might help. Towards the bottom of his pack, she finds a locket that looks like something a young woman would wear. Inside are a small portrait of the elf maiden from the horrible scene she had seen earlier, and a lock of hair. "Please let this work!" she prays quietly, holding the locket up to Jelarthna's face. His face twitches; the first independent movement he's shown so far. With renewed hope, Zoya continues to hold the locket in front of him. She tries moving it closer, and back and forth, but after a couple of hours, her arms begin to cramp, and she falls into an exhausted sleep. "Milady." The hoarse croak wakes Zoya from her sleep. "You're awake! Are you all right? Who was that short man in the red robes? What was he making you see?" Jelarthna shakes his head. "I don't know what's going on lady, and some of it I don't think I'll ever want to discuss, but you have saved my sanity, and likely my life." His face is haggard and pale, and his movements are shaky. "We must get away from here right away." "How? We're sealed in here. I have two teleport scrolls, but we have no solid target location in this place. And if my suspicions are correct, the little maniacal man made this pocket plane. So even if we get out of the bottle we're in, he can just make another one." "I can do it. But..." he pauses for breath, "I only have the strength to hold open the spell for a little while. I want you to go through first, and get help." "Perhaps it would be better if I stayed behind. The little man has done nothing overtly hostile to me. Perhaps I can talk to him once you're gone." Jelarthna shakes his head. "No. He's insane. He came to me several times in the nightmares he sent, and the man is insane. He's gained a great deal of power from somewhere, but I think it's too much for him, and his mind has become twisted. And he was never all that stable to begin with." "Look, I'm used to finding my way out of strange and distant places. And there's still the link to the Tower here somewhere. Do you think that maybe that's what he's drawing his power from? But how does he control it?" Zoya momentarily becomes lost in speculation. "Fine, we can't afford to spend any more time arguing." Jelarthna begins casting a long and complicated spell. Zoya alternated between watching him, and scanning for their jailer. After a few minutes, he brings the spell to a close and a gate opens behind Zoya. "Huh?" she says, looking behind her. "Get help!" croaks Jelarthna, pushing Zoya through the gate, which is beginning to fade almost as soon as it comes into existence. Before flickering away, Zoya realizes suddenly that she's still holding Jelarthna's locket, and throws it to him as she vanishes. He catches it, and smiles. "Thanks." Zoya finds herself standing in small, dirty hole in the ground. It's obviously several days old, perhaps over a week, and has been rained in somewhat recently. She pulls her pack free from the muddy ground beside her and begins examining the hole. "How much time has passed?" she muses for a moment. Then a look of shock and horror crosses her features. "If time runs faster there...I have to move fast!" With that, she runs toward Marsember as fast as her long legs can carry her. |
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