In a small room in the Hive Reshar Jaham sets up a heavy mirror against the far wall. It is well made of best quality and clearly not made in the Cage, the Flaming Skull of the Ruby Sorceress carved into the top of its frame.
He looks around, the room small but tidy, his books ready nearby, some protections cast on the door of the house and the windows as well to ensure some privacy.
He takes up the small porcelain cup and in it is a fresh eyeball, the grisly thing harvested from an axiomatic Hawk he hunted himself in the Hills of Shurrock, everything done after the letter of local hunting law.
The bird did not struggle, accepting its fate after it was hunted down and Resh made it quick, burying what was left of the creature where it fell.
Dismissing the memories as distracting he concentrates on his task again, readying the acid then the small metal bars.
Annia?
He calls the woman who shares this house with him, knowing she has something that belonged to the man he is going to scry on.
Nero Urbane.
He does not know the man well- a nodded greeting, a few words exchanged- but this girl, Myrra, asked him to find Nero.
And of course, he will do his best to keep his promise.
Annia?
I am ready to start, my dear. Everything is prepared and ready.
Scrying on the lost Eladrin
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*Midnight
- Posts: 870
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Annia sits up on the bed from the position where she has sat still and attentive watching ResharÂ’s preparation critically as she does with any of his arcane workings there is a flicker of expression on her face as his concentration slips, and another as he regains it though despite these occasional glimmers of a reaction her expression is calm and unreadable, few things provoke a reaction from her but Resh is one of them when he says her name she smiles warmly and genuinely for just a second before it is gone.
“I have it here.”
She reaches behind her and produces an elegant black mask once given to her to wear to a ball in the LadyÂ’s ward by the errant eldarin.
“I have it here.”
She reaches behind her and produces an elegant black mask once given to her to wear to a ball in the LadyÂ’s ward by the errant eldarin.
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*Selebius
- Posts: 1073
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Thank you. Please be so kind and keep the wards up if necessary. This will take about an hour.... perhaps a bit more.
He smiles at her takes the mask and then concentrates on his task again.
The words he mumbles are ancient draconic and he weaves the first part of the spell quickly and with great precision.
Then the acid is added to the cup, the eye turning into a sick yellow colour, shriveling a bit. He concentrates on the focus... the mask he got as well as the picture of the man as he adds the metal to the mix the resulting fumes drawn to the mirror, covering it with a red glowing fog.
The hour passes quickly as he weaves the spell and then he concentrates hard to part this fog, to see the whereabouts of his target.
Sweat forms on his forehead and he starts to get tired, only his will to succeed keeping him to continue this spell.
(( If he suceeds is, of course, not for me to decide. ;) ))
He smiles at her takes the mask and then concentrates on his task again.
The words he mumbles are ancient draconic and he weaves the first part of the spell quickly and with great precision.
Then the acid is added to the cup, the eye turning into a sick yellow colour, shriveling a bit. He concentrates on the focus... the mask he got as well as the picture of the man as he adds the metal to the mix the resulting fumes drawn to the mirror, covering it with a red glowing fog.
The hour passes quickly as he weaves the spell and then he concentrates hard to part this fog, to see the whereabouts of his target.
Sweat forms on his forehead and he starts to get tired, only his will to succeed keeping him to continue this spell.
(( If he suceeds is, of course, not for me to decide. ;) ))
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*A. Thereal
- Posts: 95
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
The scrying device shimmered and whorled while Reshar located Nero and their wills began the contention of the spell. The eladrin's will was surprisingly strong, Reshar's own knowledge of him superficial and the gradually defining distance - planar distance - Â was unable to provide clairvoyant purchase. It became clear to the caster that the distant fey was unlikely to fail this contest- suddenly the resistance vanished and the view crystallized into sharp contrast.Â
Nero drew into focus, a rough and dark reflection of the man known in Sigil. His typically clean and chic attire had been replaced by mottled black and grey, a worn jerkin beneath a ragged cloak, a full hood obscuring his argent hair. Elegantly handsome features have been marred beneath dirt, leaving only his unique violet orbs as evidence of the Nero sought after by the caster and audience. Turning away from whatever held his attention, he grabbed up his spear which was now worn and nicked along the blade, and crested a woodland knoll to scramble up a tree. The wild environ rose into sight as the eladrin effortlessly climbed through the boughs, and a breathtaking vista opened up around him.Â
The rolling landscape was wrapped in lush trees of rich summer greens and mid-autumn reds and oranges, giving the land an idyllic painted element. The forest futilely reached up a sudden mountain scape, succumbing to unwelcome stone and snow that sharply wedged the sunset colored heavens. Though the realm should be enough to captivate any fey, Nero appeared uninterested and instead intently stared away toward a blemish in the lovely country.Â
Some miles away, where the crook of the mountain met the forest along the horizon, murky fog clung to a strange sight, a great floating spire. The structure hung in the sky, several thousand paces above the technicolored canopy, its details lost within the obscuring mist.Â
Nero watched the distant feyspire for a long while, as if he could pierce the haze and pick out features of the mysterious eladrin city. Finally he descended and picked his way through a deer run and stepped into a small camp occupied by another.Â
"Sin hasn't yet returned," said the other, a stout man in full plate and helm who worked to obscure the spoor of camp fire.Â
Nero nodded and set to helping pack camp. "He'll be back."
The man known as Sin didn't return for another two hours, when Nero and his companion had finished packing. "We're not being followed, and I don't think they're yet aware of our presence," he explained and immediately shouldered one of the three recently assembled camp bundles. "The path ahead?"
"Clear for miles," replied Nero. "But we've a full moon tonight, so we'll need to be extra cautious."
The pair nodded and together they set off into the forest while the sun completed its decent beyond the distant hills, casting the woodland into complete darkness. The trio lit no torches, betraying that Sin and the armored man must share Nero's darkvision, and ate the miles beneath their sure-footed steps, only occasionally breaking to check the path behind.Â
Several hours passed midnight a great crash sounded ahead, a tree groaned, cracked, and fell toward them. The group dashed in three different directions, Nero quickly tumbled beneath a briar and clung to the musty earth. The giants came several tense moments later, plodding along the path and fighting their way through the densely cropped trees. There were only two, but even that was enough to trample all before them, and draw a hateful shadow over Nero's features. The giants passed without incident, but Nero waited until they were long out of earshot before he rose and rejoined the others on the path where they had split.Â
"I suppose we're getting close," mused the armored man.Â
"Your mastery of the obvious has always impressed, Khan," teased Sin.Â
Nero couldn't help but smirk at their banter, a bright contrast to his dark visage, and led them off again. The rest of the night passed in undisturbed travel, until the sun rose and they carefully selected another camp. Nero rested first, a tranquil meditation while the others worked and scouted for a few short hours. When the eladrin rose the others rested, enjoying eight hours of continual rest, compliments of the fey trance.Â
While they soundly rested, as if within the safety of their own homes, Nero scaled another tree and watched the slowly nearing feyspire.Â
"Shaelas Tiraleth," he murmured to himself. "I'm coming."
[I treated the spell as a 30th level Greater Scry, and gave it that duration. Also, feel free to PM me if the spell or character knowledge should yield information about what they observed, such as location, the races of Khan and Sin, or what Shaelas Tiraleth is, etc.]
Nero drew into focus, a rough and dark reflection of the man known in Sigil. His typically clean and chic attire had been replaced by mottled black and grey, a worn jerkin beneath a ragged cloak, a full hood obscuring his argent hair. Elegantly handsome features have been marred beneath dirt, leaving only his unique violet orbs as evidence of the Nero sought after by the caster and audience. Turning away from whatever held his attention, he grabbed up his spear which was now worn and nicked along the blade, and crested a woodland knoll to scramble up a tree. The wild environ rose into sight as the eladrin effortlessly climbed through the boughs, and a breathtaking vista opened up around him.Â
The rolling landscape was wrapped in lush trees of rich summer greens and mid-autumn reds and oranges, giving the land an idyllic painted element. The forest futilely reached up a sudden mountain scape, succumbing to unwelcome stone and snow that sharply wedged the sunset colored heavens. Though the realm should be enough to captivate any fey, Nero appeared uninterested and instead intently stared away toward a blemish in the lovely country.Â
Some miles away, where the crook of the mountain met the forest along the horizon, murky fog clung to a strange sight, a great floating spire. The structure hung in the sky, several thousand paces above the technicolored canopy, its details lost within the obscuring mist.Â
Nero watched the distant feyspire for a long while, as if he could pierce the haze and pick out features of the mysterious eladrin city. Finally he descended and picked his way through a deer run and stepped into a small camp occupied by another.Â
"Sin hasn't yet returned," said the other, a stout man in full plate and helm who worked to obscure the spoor of camp fire.Â
Nero nodded and set to helping pack camp. "He'll be back."
The man known as Sin didn't return for another two hours, when Nero and his companion had finished packing. "We're not being followed, and I don't think they're yet aware of our presence," he explained and immediately shouldered one of the three recently assembled camp bundles. "The path ahead?"
"Clear for miles," replied Nero. "But we've a full moon tonight, so we'll need to be extra cautious."
The pair nodded and together they set off into the forest while the sun completed its decent beyond the distant hills, casting the woodland into complete darkness. The trio lit no torches, betraying that Sin and the armored man must share Nero's darkvision, and ate the miles beneath their sure-footed steps, only occasionally breaking to check the path behind.Â
Several hours passed midnight a great crash sounded ahead, a tree groaned, cracked, and fell toward them. The group dashed in three different directions, Nero quickly tumbled beneath a briar and clung to the musty earth. The giants came several tense moments later, plodding along the path and fighting their way through the densely cropped trees. There were only two, but even that was enough to trample all before them, and draw a hateful shadow over Nero's features. The giants passed without incident, but Nero waited until they were long out of earshot before he rose and rejoined the others on the path where they had split.Â
"I suppose we're getting close," mused the armored man.Â
"Your mastery of the obvious has always impressed, Khan," teased Sin.Â
Nero couldn't help but smirk at their banter, a bright contrast to his dark visage, and led them off again. The rest of the night passed in undisturbed travel, until the sun rose and they carefully selected another camp. Nero rested first, a tranquil meditation while the others worked and scouted for a few short hours. When the eladrin rose the others rested, enjoying eight hours of continual rest, compliments of the fey trance.Â
While they soundly rested, as if within the safety of their own homes, Nero scaled another tree and watched the slowly nearing feyspire.Â
"Shaelas Tiraleth," he murmured to himself. "I'm coming."
[I treated the spell as a 30th level Greater Scry, and gave it that duration. Also, feel free to PM me if the spell or character knowledge should yield information about what they observed, such as location, the races of Khan and Sin, or what Shaelas Tiraleth is, etc.]
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*Selebius
- Posts: 1073
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
He slumps forward as the spell ends and ignoring the still smoking bowl, the foul air in the room he hastily takes some notes about what he learned.
Leaving removing the mess to an Unseen Servant he turns to Annia thanking her for keeping him save and allowing him to do his work undisturbed.He seems less tired with her around, her presence both soothing and invigorating.
But he cannot allow himself to be distracted, not yet. Cloaking himself in the living shadow waiting by the door he makes his way out into the crowded streets, not seen by most, making his way towards the Hall of Records.
Once inside he selects some heavy books- about primes, wars and fairyfolk. He seems to know something about what he saw but of course he wants to be sure. The Shadow around his shoulders dims the light of the candles and everburning torches as he reads, taking new notes or addint to those he took earlier.
After two long hours he seemed pleased and he leans back, taking a fresh sheet of vellum from his book.
This is what he writes:
Greetings Myrra,
I am pleased to inform you that I have suceeded with the task given to me.
Nero Urbane was alive at the moment of scrying and rather well. I located him on the Feywilds, close to the Prime of Eberron. He is on a journey to reach the lost Eladrin Town of Shaelas Tiraleth and should reach the Feyspire soon.
I include some of the impressions in the gem attached to this message.
Reshar Jaham.
He puts his Arcane Mark close to his signature, a quick prestidigitation drying the ink before he rolls the message up binds a blak string around it and then seals it with red wax, the seal showing both the Flaming Skull as well as his initials.
Then he makes his way to the Laboratory in the Lower Ward, imbuing a garnet with some simple Illusion spells, each small Silent Image showing a scene from what he saw.
Of course this scenes are taken from his memories, coloured by his own thoughts and emotions but they are still very true to reality.
Pleased with what he has he attaches the gem to the string then, with a quick spell he calls upon a Modron's service to deliver the note to Myrra.
Leaving removing the mess to an Unseen Servant he turns to Annia thanking her for keeping him save and allowing him to do his work undisturbed.He seems less tired with her around, her presence both soothing and invigorating.
But he cannot allow himself to be distracted, not yet. Cloaking himself in the living shadow waiting by the door he makes his way out into the crowded streets, not seen by most, making his way towards the Hall of Records.
Once inside he selects some heavy books- about primes, wars and fairyfolk. He seems to know something about what he saw but of course he wants to be sure. The Shadow around his shoulders dims the light of the candles and everburning torches as he reads, taking new notes or addint to those he took earlier.
After two long hours he seemed pleased and he leans back, taking a fresh sheet of vellum from his book.
This is what he writes:
Greetings Myrra,
I am pleased to inform you that I have suceeded with the task given to me.
Nero Urbane was alive at the moment of scrying and rather well. I located him on the Feywilds, close to the Prime of Eberron. He is on a journey to reach the lost Eladrin Town of Shaelas Tiraleth and should reach the Feyspire soon.
I include some of the impressions in the gem attached to this message.
Reshar Jaham.
He puts his Arcane Mark close to his signature, a quick prestidigitation drying the ink before he rolls the message up binds a blak string around it and then seals it with red wax, the seal showing both the Flaming Skull as well as his initials.
Then he makes his way to the Laboratory in the Lower Ward, imbuing a garnet with some simple Illusion spells, each small Silent Image showing a scene from what he saw.
Of course this scenes are taken from his memories, coloured by his own thoughts and emotions but they are still very true to reality.
Pleased with what he has he attaches the gem to the string then, with a quick spell he calls upon a Modron's service to deliver the note to Myrra.
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*Kree
- Posts: 63
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Myrra is quite surprised at the mordron delivery but the news bring a bright smile to her face. The gem stuffed with impression makes things difficult, however. Thought turned to sight, her longing is made all the worse and she strikes the table in front of her amidst many frustrated grunts. She deeply curses her inability to send a message back but rests well with renewed hope...
The following peak she sends the helpful mage a letter.
"Hello this is Myrra. Thanks lots for what you do!!! Please I want to let Nero know missing him lots. Help please I do not know how. You have some magic? Please. I can send a letter? Let him know my thought? How I feel? I pay you lots if you can!"
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*Selebius
- Posts: 1073
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Reshar takes the letter from the messenger, tipping her generously.
Sitting down upstairs he reads through it while enjoyinga nice cup of cold, pure water, sometimes smiling to himself. Her emotions and motivations might be well known to him so he decides to answer her quickly.
Getting some parchment he then writes down his answer:
Myrra,
there is a way to contact him with some chance of success.
While I can cast this spell myself to deliver your message I can also offer you a scroll or alternatively a single use magic item containing the spell (approx. cost would be 2000 jink) to do it yourself.
Reshar Jaham. [His Arcane Mark]
Sitting down upstairs he reads through it while enjoyinga nice cup of cold, pure water, sometimes smiling to himself. Her emotions and motivations might be well known to him so he decides to answer her quickly.
Getting some parchment he then writes down his answer:
Myrra,
there is a way to contact him with some chance of success.
While I can cast this spell myself to deliver your message I can also offer you a scroll or alternatively a single use magic item containing the spell (approx. cost would be 2000 jink) to do it yourself.
Reshar Jaham. [His Arcane Mark]