Lore of Leyuna RPG (FRPG)

[The Kingpin]

"It was a lot better looking last time I was here," commented the Scholar darkly as he neared a decently clear piece of ground, a rocky outcrop more than anything else. And indeed it had been. The mound of rubble that he saw before him had once been a veritable mountainside. The elements of the city within were completely hidden from view, buried under immense stones, as large as some palaces and surrounded by a borderline insurmountable pile of debris that walled it off against outsiders. And, Septimus noted, down amidst the rubble and ruin, was what appeared to be a path into deeper depths. The path Desrium had no doubt taken, and the source of the trail he had noted on his approach

[C S]

"And we'll get to see it during these better days," Syria replied dispassionately. Her response was akin to a reflex, and her distant mind in the presence of such devasation did not realize this. She'd taken it for granted that Septimus heard her, whether or not she spoke with the mind or her actual voice. Absently, she began to check her wirshah to make sure she had it done all the way up, then inspected her hat to make sure it was strapped on just right. It was not the best of mornings for her, and she felt she needed these final preparations before embarking, lest she ended up catching a cold because of some oversight. When she was done, she held her hand out to catch her staff, which had been in transit as soon as she gave her summons.

[The Kingpin]

The dragon touched down on an overhanging stone that loomed over the passageway Desrium had carved out of the ruins. His claws dug into the harsh rock as his wings remained splayed, wary of potential instability, even though the boulder itself looked and felt solid.

From there, he leapt down to the entrance, kicking up the fine powder that had become of a once mighty and unforgiving cliff face.

"I pray we can," responded the Scholar in turn. Magic was a strange thing, at once powerful and fragile. The web of time woven into the very mana that saturated this place could have told the entire history of the Two Cities. Or it could have been ruined beyond any hope of recovery by some other magical happenstance that had occurred here at the time the cities were destroyed.

[C S]

Syria chewed on that for a short while. It left a pit in her stomach. "The lack of information can be as telling as any other clue, though. A natural event, or the inclinations of mythical creatures of fabled size, would not erase themselves from history."

[The Kingpin]

The Son of Storms slowly crossed the threshold of the ruined city in awe of the sheer scale of the destruction. He walked through the obliterated entrance of the cave, remembering how, only a year ago, he would be cast in its shadow by now. How he would already be smelling the exotic food that wafted from the marketplace; some of which eventually ended up elsewhere in Aster. How the bustle of day to day business reached all the way to the gates.

And now that was all gone. All he could smell was the fresh, oblivious winter air. All he could hear was the muffled flutter of the icy breeze.

The Two Cities that had once been bustling with life, now lay silent... and lifeless.

The thought made the dragon's lip curl.

There would be time to vent his anger, his frustration, his sadness, when it was over. For now, he needed to learn what had happened here. And how to stop it from happening again somewhere else. And so with that goal in mind, he pressed forward, descending into the cavern beyond Desrium's makeshift entrance. It was time they uncovered the story of the Two Cities.

[C S]

The stretch of eerie quiet in the dingy crypt continued as the pair delved deeply into their introspection. Crypt, for this elemental nest was also the understated mass grave of thousands, judging from the sheer size of the chamber. People who lived and breathed the marvel of an elevated cityscape, and the people who had the misfortune of visiting on the day everything came crashing down. A burial under crushing rocks and leveled buildings. Wherever Septimus and Syria looked, there was little to lend towards visual investigation. The few details illuminated by the ambient light entering through the crag revealed the topmost layer of stone to be a collection of innumerable rocky shards, sharp and angular, interlocking together and packed tight by their total weight. The dragon stood on rubble that was more solid than a wall of brick and mortar, dusted with gravel while the dust of bones was entombed far below.

The sparse structures that broke the uniform, rough surface were pillars of a select kind. Some were undoubtedly remains of resilient frames of grand buildings carved from fine masonry, bearing the scars and cracks of the turmoil that visited the Two Cities. Aside from these damaged supports were the remnants of walls, disjointed, jostled and mismatched. The closest things to folded stone one could lay their eyes on, leaving nothing to the effort of envisioning what things would have been like before disaster.


"I've realized something curious, Septimus," Syria said to the Scholar. "The entrance to this chamber was blocked off by those rocks outside, and we know the elementals were inside here despite that because of what Desrium told us; meaning they either closed themselves off here, or they were closed off by coincidence. Either way, after leaving Thimeyra, Alen'ta knew to come to this ravine somehow, and recognized the significance of what was sealed off at the bottom. This, without getting past the rocks in the first place..."

[The Kingpin]

"That is an interesting observation," responded the Scholar, suddenly drawn to re-evaluate his understanding of the mysterious Thimeyran. "I do not think it has to do with Harbrid, the Hueilin within him. Not unless her specific skills made her attuned to such things. Otherwise, I would feel some similar attunement to elementals. There is more at play here," he concluded as he stepped forth into the ruins. His gaze passed across the absolute destruction before him, rubble piled upon rubble and the stench of death that had not quite faded with time. The incident wasn't quite as long ago as he had thought. He guessed that somewhere within the rubble, more than just shrivelled cadavers could be found. Another sad tale told by what remained. "These poor souls... Some of them were literally buried alive... They had to endure a death by starvation."

[C S]

"Atrocious." There was no other word more applicable according to Syria's purview. An end so terrible would be grounds for restless souls to linger, Acharown or no. Somehow, the fact that none had made themselves known yet was even more unsettling. The lack of information can be as telling as any other clue. Syria hoped to high heaven that this was just incidental chatter from her overactive mind. She adjusted her footing so that she could lean out of the satchel, squinting her eyes so as to make out the features of the cave ceiling. Choosing to remain in the satchel preserved her acuity to the low light from the onset, barring a minor adjustment period to the transition from dawn's light to this nightly pitch. The present, diffused illumination was barely sufficient, even then. Instead of a shadowed mass, her eyes saw a shadowed haze, lined with irregular patterns of darker shades. Cracks and holes, some completely isolated from other concentrations of stresses.

"Have you taken a look at things up top?" Syria asked. She had her suspicions, though she left them unsaid, wary of her bias coloring Septimus' examination before they used the aethereopic spell. He had the better eyes between them by a margin that was more akin to a gulf, anyway. Syria trusted his ruling as to whether or not things seemed natural. However, deep down, she was skeptical that a city engineered to be partly suspended from chains -- chains that were now sprawled out on the pile of rubble like dull, slain serpents discarded without ceremony -- would succumb to the rigors of a stray quake.

The lack of survivors that Desrium mentioned implied that tragedy struck unexpectedly and passed just as quickly, taking everyone off-guard, and yet the cavern hadn't collapsed on itself from that unbridled violence. Why?

[The Kingpin]

The Scholar's voice rumbled in his throat as he looked up towards the ruined city's upper levels. Or what should have been the upper levels. "What in the world?" His confusion permeated his tone. A moment of silence followed as he tried to make sense of it all. perfectly smooth stone, immaculate in fact. There was no trace of any kind of fracture or break, no sign of the foundations that held the chains, no trace of the city that once was held above. He glanced around at the ground before him, seeing the ruins that were absent above. Seeing the chains, the pulverised remnants of buildings, archways, monuments. Everything that should have had parallels, however sparse, on the ceiling. But there was nothing up there. Not even stalactites. And yet the walls were not so. The wall supports for the chains were visible. Remnants of buildings that didn't fit in either the upper or lower districts could be seen there.

So what happened?


"This definitely wasn't a natural disaster. Too uniform. The ceiling is completely smooth, as if it was freshly carved out of a cliff. It resembles the crafted dens in Drakhunmiir."

[C S]

"... Which may imply that the perpetrator wanted to hide this crime for as long as possible. Another reason why word hasn't spread of what transpired." Syria hung her head. "How..." She fell short on words, struggling to comprehend the motivation for such an act, or what would be capable of doing such a thing. What could wreak devastation to such a degree without raising any alarms and manage an escape? Did it escape? And if it didn't, what madness compelled such a disregard for life and majesty? How, after all this horror, did the young elementals come to take refuge in this necropolis? So little sense.

Senseless. That's what this was to Syria. A senseless loss on a disturbing scale.

[The Kingpin]

"Incredible power. The sort that could only mean this was an act of unwarranted aggression. Nothing with this much power would have had anything to fear of these people. It was not threatened. It was not endangered by their existence." The Hueilin lingered on that note for a short while, thinking it over as he tried to glean more from the rubble.

"It almost tempts one to consider that perhaps the elementals are not really elementals at all, but the restless spirits of those who died here, claiming the elements that were around them as their last frantic reach for life," mused the Scholar, knowing that was not the case, and yet pondering on it anyway. It was a romantic perspective of things, it had to be admitted. The sort of thing Ceridwen would avidly cling to in her search for the romantic. "But wistful imaginings aside, I believe I may know how Alen'ta knew to come here."

[C S]

"Geezerbro?" Syria guessed. "A connection between Hueilin?"

[The Kingpin]

"Possible, but unlikely. Geezerbro's motive for coming here was to be distant. He was a hermit, at the end of the day. I do not think he would have contacted Harbrid. I doubt he even knew her, being as old as he was. That said, him being involved in what happened here isn't quite what I'd call unlikely," responded the Scholar, reminded that Geezerbro had been exiled for dabbling in forbidden knowledge. A connection to the city's own fate was entirely possible, in light of that. "It is improbable that Alen'ta would be drawn to elementals for reasons we've already established. But," he began, pausing as he made a pass over his hypothesis for any obvious contradictions. "... It is entirely possible that this place wasn't the first time he'd encountered them."

[C S]

"Granted. But that leaves the question of why they locked themselves in here with the dead. Maybe they were frightened of Harbrid?" Syria hummed thoughtfully. "But they stood up to Morrelie... possibly emboldened by Desrium but... so much speculation. We may just have to face the inevitable and use the spell to see what truth we can uncover."

[The Kingpin]

"Maybe, but then, you'd think they'd have actively left Brodudika while I was there, if they were willing to run from Harbrid and entomb themselves in here to avoid her," responded the Scholar. "Desrium made no mention of it, and I know that they were helping out around the city. So something else inspired them to do that... What that is, however, I haven't a clue." With a sigh, he concluded, "It does seem like we don't have much of a choice. It'll come down to what we can see with our aether-sight."

[C S]

"Inevitable," the lady repeated. Another silence prevailed afterwards, statically stalling the next step with emptiness. Neither scholar-soldier nor explorer-mage were hasty to witness the deaths of so many in short order. In that window of pensiveness, Syria thought back to what Septimus said about the recluse dragon. "What if..." Syria frowned, "what if... Geezerbro was involved. And we see it...?"

[The Kingpin]

"Then I inform Buruq and Thurduunax. And my father. And they decide what to do about it," responded the Scholar firmly. The matters of elder Hueilin were matters best given to other elders. If this so-called Geezerbro was as powerful as such destruction would suggest, he wouldn't be able to do anything about it himself regardless. He had grown a lot in the past couple of years, but he could not fool himself into thinking he would even hold a candle to the might of a dragon entire Hueilin generations older than him.

[C S]

Syria's spirits sunk further. Drakhunmiir was already pressured by its own existing distress. News of a rogue exile would only add further tension on an already tense situation that could full well become explosive; a ploy for a conniving wyrm to rise to dominance when stability and strength were most necessary for the clans. If the most able among the Hueilin were divided in their attention regarding external threats, they would be working at a disadvantage to manage the struggles for power. Syria could not imagine this scenario in all its minutia, but she felt a numb, hollow dread in her core just conceiving it, and the narrow judgement on Septimus' behalf that ensured she wouldn't be there to see the events unfold, should fate take that turn.

However, she saw a bittersweet alternative in her hypothetical. "It is improbable, I admit. A recluse of such stature would have been like your friend, Jiier, if less active due to the 'withering' of his body," Syria rationalized, relief flowing into the tenor of her voice. "And if he lived to his old dragon-age harmlessly, I can't fathom why he would ever turn like this. A hermit would not bring harm to the place of his... hermitude."

The reprieve from sadness wore away thereafter, when Syria concluded, " I think the truth of the matter is as Desrium feared... and that Geezerbro is no longer... It's always preferred to be prepared for even the most remote happenstance but... well..."

[The Kingpin]

"What Desrium fears and suspects and what is the reality of the situation are irrelevant at this point. It won't do us well to dwell on speculation," responded the Scholar, sensing Syria's drift into pessimism and sadness. "It is the nature of our work to seek facts. Let's not get bogged down by what ifs, hm?" he asked, lowering his head beside the mage.

[C S]

Syria quoted a phrase Willow told her during periods of sickness when she was a child. "'The sooner you take the bad medicine, the sooner you'll recover'." She lacked her caregiver's can-do devil may care bravado in her recital, bordering on a monotone in the vein of their metal friend. Syria knew Septimus was right, and she could not delay what had to be done any longer. She had to accept it herself that waiting to be ready for this ordeal wasn't feasible. It took a certain kind of person to witness a mass loss of life unflinchingly, and that wasn't someone Syria wanted to be. The lady nodded to the Scholar. "But do watch your step," she urged him. As much as their task disheartened her, she would be even more pained if Septimus came across precarious ground while his focus was swayed.