The Historian's Search
It was late in the day as the man finally neared his destination. The
journey had not been easy, for this far to the east of Arkham civilization was
hardly known at all. Even the last of the sparsely populated farming villages
lay nearly a week's travel behind him. He glanced towards the sky for a
moment, considering the dark clouds that had begun to gather. Perhaps it would
be unwise to continue further into the mountains with the threat of a storm so
nearby. He paused only momentarily, though. He had not searched this long
only to be delayed yet again, particularly this close to the end.
He spurred his horse onwards, hoping that there remained enough daylight left
to see him through to his destination. Following her trail hadn't been easy,
particularly not after it had grown cold for two centuries. The job of the
true historian is never easy, he thought to himself. The narrow pass seemed to
wind on forever, deeper and deeper into the mountains. As the last of the
sun's rays began to fade over the horizon, he saw at last what he had been
searching for.
The trail opened into a small canyon. There, set into the cliff face, was a
small temple. He rode up to the steps of the temple, and dismounted, tying his
horse to one of the pillars where it would be under the shade of the cliff. He
gazed up at the carvings decorating the entrance. Predominant among them was
the symbol of a crown of stars. There can be no doubt, he thought, this is the
place.
He slowly ascended the steps, taking care to observe all the scenery
carefully. After all, he might never visit this place again. As he entered
the austere chamber just inside the temple, he was greeted wordlessly by two
grey-cloaked figures. Perpetuim, he thought, recognizing the being that had
given him the final clue to the location of this place.
"I have been directed here by one of your kind," he said in answer to the
unspoken question contained in the stares of the Perpetuim. "I wish to speak
with the one known once as the 'Bringer of Order'."
The two figures stood motionless for a moment, as if considering what he had
said. He wondered if they could hear the pounding of his heart over the almost
tangible silence that hung in the room. After what seemed like an eternity,
one of them nodded and beckoned for him to follow down one of the darkened
corridors.
The Perpetuim led him through passageway after passageway, deep into the
mountain. He had to pull forth a small glowstone from a pouch at his belt, for
the passageways had no lighting at all set within them. Soon he realized he
was completely disoriented, and at the mercy of his hosts to be shown the way
back to the surface. It was not long after this that the Perpetuim in front of
him stopped suddenly, and turned to motion him towards a door in the tunnel
wall.
Hesitating for only an instant, he pushed open the door and stepped into the
room. It was a sparsly furnished chamber, its stone walls completely bare.
The only furniture in the room was a wooden table with two chairs. In the far
chair was seated a robed figure. At first glance he thought it might be
another Perpetuim, but no, the figure was too slender of build. It was then
that the figure spoke.
"Have a seat," spoke the figure. "You must have come a long way, just to
seek out a shadow of the past." The voice was soft, and almost melodical in
its tones. Upon hearing the words, he knew who it was that sat within the
room, the one he had searched for these last few months.
The figure drew back its hood, revealing a still-beautiful face of
unmistakeable elven heritage. Her skin was a rather pale tone, almost that
which he might mistake for a High Elf... were it not for the similarly pale
white of her hair, and the color of her eyes. It was they who marked her true
heritage as a Dark Elf, one of the subterranean Drow. So the tales had been
true about her mixed blood, he thought.
Almost as if reading his thoughts, she answered, "Yes, I am not of pure Dark
Elven descent.. the fact that my ancestors dwelled for so long on the surface
necessitated certain.. things."
"Then you are the one I've been looking for," he replied, "the one known as
the Bringer of Order, Alle.."
Her face quickly turned from calm amicability to a cold mask of rage as she
snarled, cutting him off in mid-sentence, "Speak not that name. I have not
gone to all this trouble to attract too much attention. There are those even
now who would still have me dead."
"My apologies, then. But if you are so worried as to being discovered, here,
why were you willing to see me?" he questioned.
"They told me that you sought me. If you had been of the Empire, or even
related to it, or its allies, you would not have found this place. Nor will
you find it again, unless I so decide." She turned her gaze to look directly
into his eyes. "Now, tell me, why have you come here?"
He cleared his throat, and said "I am a historian, as you likely know. I am
in service to the Troupe, who is working on a repository for such things. What
I have come for, is to speak of the Former Emperor, the Lich, the Aryl'khur,
the one known as Istendil. You were the High Priestess of that time.. and the
only Council Member of his that still survives to this day."
She smiled, and laughed, a cold, clear tone of amusement in her voice. "It
is more than that, though. There are still others who knew him, know him
still. He in fact still exists, as far as I know. Why, then, have you gone to
the difficulty to seek me out?"
"To be blunt, it is because of your divine oath," he replied, and she nodded
at the statement. "You were, and still are, a Starcrowned Priestess. Even
though Order was your chosen devotion, the chronicles speak of your vow never
to tell a lie."
"Ah, so that is why you came. Yes, it is true, I do not lie, nor have I
ever.. but," she added, "that does not mean that I speak the full truth."
He nodded, and said "That is far more than I could be sure of from most.
Will you tell me what you know, of your thoughts? You spent more time with him
than I ever will, and knew him like few living mortals today did, or will."
She sighed almost imperceptibly, and nodded. He scrambled into his bag to
draw forth his paper, quill pens and ink vial, to write down her words.
"He was not unusual at first.. another of the Black Sect's necromancers, and
they were as numerous as the grains of sand in the desert. What caught my
notice first was his mark, that of the god Nazmorghul. I knew of few enough
who had it, for the god was claimed to have become reclusive as the Third Age
wore on. Many say now that Istendil was the last one to serve him.. at least
openly." She paused for a moment, letting this comment hang in the air.
"Of his origins before I met him in the halls of the Citadel, I don't know
much, nor did I care, really. For that you should likely ask him. What I will
speak of is the time in which I knew him. When I first met him, I was still
more of a girl then, a young priestess given the power of a god for a divine
task.. the Empire was a means to that end. He was farther advanced in his
training than I was, and for a time we had little chance, or need, to speak."
"The second thing that I remember is during the reign of the Emperor Kah.
The position of Dreadlord to the Empire lay open, the Black Sect's seat at the
Council Chamber was empty. There was some contention for a time as to who
would seize it. It was during that period that I was called in to administer
to one of the Anti-Paladins who was in contention for the seat. He had come
down with the deadly spotted plague, you see. I tended to him, but he was dead
by morning, his body completely rotted into nothingness."
She smiled coldly at this. "Of course, there were whispers that Istendil was
involved in this timely death of a potential rival, but these were quickly
hushed as he was named Dreadlord. Some time passed, and the days of Kah's
reign drew to a close. Then, in a surprise to all of the Citadel, the War
Master Llorenthos took his own life mere days before he was to be crowned
Emperor."
"This story I have heard, or parts," he interrupted. "Can you shed some
light on what really happened?"
She nodded, and continued. "The power struggle was surprisingly brief. Of
the Three remaining Sect Leaders, Taceolus quickly solidified his base of
power. Eriwal seemed more interested in his magic than the throne, oddly
enough, and Istendil was unwilling to make a move then." Her voice quieted
down for a moment, "They told him, you see. The spirits of his ancestors. He
knew what was to come, or at least could see what he thought was to come. In
the end, he was proven right, in that at least."
"It was with Taceolus's assumption of the Throne that I became High
Priestess. Not being privy to the meeting that the Three had with Agathocles,
I will never know exactly why I was chosen. The only one who really could have
given challenge to me was Zendrac, but he apparently was willing to bide his
time until later, as you know now. I envy Zendrac that, for he held the one
thing I coveted that I did not reach. That is another tale, though."
"Istendil at that time had achieved Lichdom, and was a truly imposing
figure. Of all within the Empire, none were feared more than he. Taceolus,
even the first of the great Shapeshifters as Eriwal's dedication to his magic
and his god allowed him to become, even they did not strike the same terror
into the hearts of the Empire's foes. I stood at his side for countless
numbers of deaths in the wars of the time, calling the black shroud upon him,
and upon his undead servants. It was for that he favored me, that and for the
position I held. For his plan would soon come to fruition."
"He wished to journey into the Inferno. Not that others hadn't before, I for
one had gone with an expedition led by Llorenthos and Kah, that met failure in
the 5th Circle. But Istendil had been careful, and spoken to many who had gone
before, and gathered up the knowledge that they had gained. They were eager to
brag about their exploits, he told me, and finding the keys to the known
puzzles was therefore easy. He asked my help, as I commanded the Healers, and
such would be essential to the trip."
"The seven of us departed in secret, after much preparation. Both Istendil
and Eriwal were there, along with others for support, that idiot fire giant who
nevertheless was good at what he did, the Bard Amberlea, and two others whose
names I forget. Notably absent were the war-master, Shaitar, and the Emperor
himself. Istendil explained that he had been unable to contact the War Master
in time. As for the Emperor, I thought little of it at first, as shamans are
usually of little help in the inferno, as I had learned on my past trip."
"He knew, though. Don't ask me for proof, it's merely my assumption based on
what I now know. But he knew of Taceolus's attitude towards non-humans,
something I would learn only later. If he didn't know what was coming, he
suspected. Istendil was already positioning himself for when the time came.
He was always like that.. in the right place, at the right time.. I'm sure it
was the spirits. Every now and then, he'd tilt his head, and stop what he was
doing, as if listening to a voice none of us could hear... but I digress."
"He had already positioned himself as the heir apparent. Perhaps he was
simply waiting for a moment of weakness on Taceolus's part. I'll never know
for sure. On that trip, though, he estabilshed himself firmly as a leader. It
was masterfully done, too.. no commands, merely suggestions that were well-
thought out. None of us would have thought to bring the bardess along, but it
was she who proved instrumental in finding the way past the 7th circle. At
least, I would have never noticed the critical clue," she shrugged.
"That the trip was a success merely solidified his power. Certainly I would
not have opposed him, not then at least. Eriwal, he cared more for his magic,
and for knowledge. He would have supported anyone who he believed competent to
be Emperor, and Istendil had done just that. Still, Istendil waited until the
time was truely right."
"Taceolus's declaration, you mean?" he interrupted again. She nodded in
reply.
"Istendil was nothing more than a human, albeit a dead one, to the former
Emperor. He thought himself secure enough in his power that Eriwal and
Istendil would help him remove myself and Shaitar. He was wrong. Istendil
wasn't bothered by the declaration, inherently. Rather, he knew that Shaitar
and I could have never accepted it, and thus he made his move. He was crowned
Emperor not long after."
"His rule was the greatest reign of any Emperor to date. Under his lead, we
crushed any and every enemy that we turned our attention to. Those who were
not crushed only were so because they ran with their tails between their legs.
Ah, it was a great time, indeed."
"What brought about the end of his reign? Many say it was he who named
himself to be Anathema," said the historian.
"You should know that I left before he did. But I have not been completely
unaware of the happenings of the outside world. This, then is what happened.
Shaitar perished first, as are all arials wont to do from their incredibly
brief lifespan. Eriwal disappeared one day, turning into a falcon and flying
off, never to return. Those who were chosen to replace them as sect leaders
were.. shall we say.. not of the same quality, though they did try. It was in
this time period that I too, left, never to return. The Empire grew
increasingly dependant upon Istendil."
"Finally, he decided that the Empire had grown too weak for its own good.
Where he was not present to lead the Imperial Troops, they faltered, falling
prey to those who opposed the Empire. It was his judgement that the Empire
would not return to its days of glory again, so long as he remained at its
head. Thus, he accused himself of the crime of failure, and served a verdict
of Guilty. The punishment was Anathematization. The Empire has still not yet
recovered, though I think they are beginning along that slow road, at last."
"A remarkable story," he said to her. "Tell me also if you will of your
end.. why did you leave? Is it true that you left because you fell to the Lich
of Chaos, and were not nearly as strong without your things?" he inquired.
"No, that was not the true reason, though he may like to think so," she
laughed icily. "The time drew near when I could no longer fulfill the duties
of High Priestess.. and I was unwilling to suffer the dignity of being named
Anathema. Nor did I wish to stand against the Empire. The loss to the Chaos
Lich merely provided a convenient bit of closure."
"And what of you now? Surely you haven't abandoned the cause of your
ancestors, or that of your God?"
"No, I still serve. I am young yet, as I was a mere girl of three centuries
when I was High Priestess. I still serve my Lord here, in this shrine, far
away from the lands where the Empire rules. As for my ancestors, I will not
die childless.. though it may be many, many more generations before another of
my blood rises as champion, to continue the fight to lead the Dark-Elves away
from the failed teachings of Lloth, and into the true power of Order." With
this, her eyes became almost wistful for a moment, before she turned back to
look calmly at him.
"No more shall I tell you. This interview is at an end." She stood quickly,
with a fluid grace unknown to human ken, and in the blink of an eye stood next
to the historian. She reached out one hand, pressing her index finger to his
forehead, the touch of her skin hot against his flesh. "Now, go." He blinked,
and found himself staring across the courtyard of the Temple of the Sun, in his
home city of Galadon. Quickly, he checked for his book of notes, and found it
still in his lap. He stood, and headed for the stables, to commision a horse
to ride back to the Inn with the new tale he had gathered.
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