Shards Of History

[*WhenWizardsWar]

//The players involved in my cult of the dragon plot which recently concluded on the prime of illia has answered many questions, and yet created just as many yet to be solved. We are going to continue using this thread for what is to be considered the second chapter in the story, after all when everyone enjoys reading a good book and is both satisfied and yet left wanting more by its ending what does the author do? He writes another book!. So it is, and so it shall be, I look forward to the next chapter in our story, I am sure many characters will come and many will go but as stories do, everyone involved is bound to be touched in someway shape or form.

"The Void"

It is said that the void, the space between primes is almost as infinite as the multiverse itself, and that it is almost impossible to get from one prime to another by transitioning through the void, if such a thing were even possible!.

Well today, the prime world of Galvinar learned the hard way that a friend and fellow trading partner was alot closer then they had previously understood. The two primes, Galvinar and Illia have enjoyed a strong robust trading partnership via a carefully established portal in the heart of each primes civilization centers, Galvinar trading to Illia its rare and exotic metals in exchange for goods and items crafted by illias cunning draconic descendants, bowls of dragon bone, weapons of dragons teeth, not to mention the abundance of sulphur based substances Illia practically oozed from her pores.

This morning, as the residents across Galvinar awoke from slumber and made ready for their day, a sound came to their ears, a boom...a thud like someone banging on a drum of immeaserable size, the sound at the edge of their hearing, but the concussive force felt in everyones bones. The primes went about their bussiness, farming and smithing, cooking, cleaning, laughing and singing, not a single thought given to what maybe going outside their -small- piece of existance. As night fell and most of the villagers gathered in their respective town squares for the evening feasts, heads rose curiously to the night sky, faces drooped in awe, people began to run and flee in panic.

As fire rained from the sky....

As the Galvinar residents fled for their lives none had time to realise or even suspect that the hell falling upon them was actually the remains of a distant ally and trading partner, Illia who had...that morning suffered a terrible and cataclysmic death which showered peices of the prime across the material plane...

They knew there were other planets out there, this prime was far from clueless and in fact they even know of Sigils existance and had known for some time, the knowledge of the one and only portal to the city of doors having been passed down to select people from generation to generation. The knowledge of this place...Sigil which was so carefully preserved turned out to be their salvation and soon a stream of injured refugees began to flood into the city.

The Harmonium quickly contained the situation, diverting most of the wounded to the house of healing in the clerks ward.

Little did anyone know that the heros within the house of healing had recently returned from their own trip from the prime of Illia....

Most of the heros thought it was done...
That the story was over and that Illia was dead...
Apparently, Illia is not going quietly into the void....

[*Nimiane]

[align=right]^{https://youtu.be/FeDdZ0Omeuk}[/align]

Coughing and spluttering through the drizzle of ash-rain, the bardess threaded a dirty glove through her sweat-soaked hair, breaking away the last of the protective stone. Gone were the mages whom could provide her with something more substantial, something to ease the burn in her lungs. Odette pressed on for a full day and a half through the rapidly deteriorating prime of Illia, avoiding elementals where possible and confronting them head on when not, bellowing Kelth's name to no avail. Pieces of her clothing are torn and shredded to form something of a filtered mask, replaced when one becomes too thick with toxic grime.

Exhausted, hungry, drained physically, emotionally and mentally, the soot-covered woman scrambles from rocky surface to rocky surface through a number of core-shaking quakes. It was no small measure of surprise that etched over Odette's features as she quite literally stumbled into the fleeing stampede of several hundred prime civilians and thousands of armed legionaries. Pleading, screaming, shouting, fleeing waves of people, racing for a portal which remained open still. Though her jaw clenched with the knowledge of her failed search, Odette had agreed to aid them in their evacuation, marching for miles. If nothing else, be it even it with her dying breath, she would not allow these lives lost. Lost, forever, like Kelth. The thought was an overpowering one that drove her forward, an ear-piercing note leaping from her vocal chords, and into the fray of elementals that blocked entrance to the keep.

Spinning, slashing, shouting. Bodies fell all around her, sprays of blood and ichor mixing with ash and dirt on every surface it met. A familiar roar boomed across the battlefield, and caused Odette's blood to run cold. Flashing, whirring, slicing. . . and there he was. A towering figure of pure destruction, mixed in among the dance of elemental and soldier. A brief glance in the heat of combat, the fall of a firey figure bringing them side by side on the battlefield with disbelieving exclamations. It was not a time for reunions, however, their combined bardic shouts of command driving those fleeing into the walls of the keep as though herding rats. Rats that squeaked and bit and trampled one another in a desperate bid for freedom as they barrelled through the portal that flickered and waned. Too slow, far too slow. There was no time.

The world around Odette seemed to quiet in comparison to the blood that thumped in her ears, the following moments caught up in a whirlwind that somehow both swept everything away and slowed it down in an unexplainable manner. A blur, as though she were running on the spot and the world was simply moving around her.

Thump. The portal explodes, closing in on itself. Thump. Limbs and gore flying in multiple directions as it severs those escaping into pieces. Thump. Falling debris shatters stone walls, cracks skulls with sickening clarity. Thump. Fire and brimstone rain from above. Thump. Defeat. Thump. Determination. Thump. Scar's men move to form a barricade, accepting their fate alongside their General. Thump. Salutes offered, a mark of respect. Thump. Elementals swarm through, civilian stragglers falling to the ground; lifeless. Thump. A grasp at darkness within, a link to the Plane of Shadow fizzles. Thump. Anger. Defiance. Thump. Nowhere left to run. Thump. A flash of blinding light, penetrating the depths of present souls. Thump. Acceptance of impending doom. Thump. Illia shrieks, the screams of a dying planet. Thump. A firm embrace in the wake of death's beckoning call, shielding. Thump. "Odette... know this... I..." Thump. One last glimpse, a final gaze meeting. Thump. Searing pain, the end of the world. Thump!



Darkness.

[*Nimiane]

The hearth flickers and dances as it had many times before, the rugs of animal fur beneath her bare legs plush and inviting. As always a glass idled in her hand, though it lacked the slightly restless twitch of an alcoholic hand. It's contents drained, the beverage is set aside to the nearby tune of a powerful snore, if only for a few moments of tormented sleep. It is enough to faintly curl the corners of Odette's lips as she withdraws a leatherbound book from it's designated pouch. Slender fingers, free of scars left by ropes, rigging and combat, gently brushed over it's surface as though it might turn to ash at any moment - and likely would have, were it not within the confines of a heavily charred bag of holding. So much to say, and yet finding the words proved no easy task.


â—‹ Entry Four

[*Mausman]

With a loud gasp, Kelth opens his eyes...indeed, both eyes...a fact he does not yet fully understand.

He regards a sobbing Quinn to his right, gently reaching out to touch the man's shoulder. He then glances at the bed next to them, seeing a breathing Odette, much to his relief.

Brindas stands at his feet, mixed emotions on the man's face. Kelth then glances to his left and stares at his former, mangled and brutalized corpse. Riddled with ghastly wounds, inflicted by toxic vapours and shrapnel...causing him to swallow and produce a nervous laugh.


Kelth enquires as to why his vision is blurry and odd, to which Doc replies he should take off his eyepatch.

Kelth, since years, lays eyes on his own body with full vision now, regarding a fully mended, plain, non tattooed body and is explained that True Ressurection has happened...

Kelth swallows, nodding slowly as he tries to understand.

One thing springs into Kelth's mind, rather quickly and rather out of place...

Those clan tattoos will be back on his body, this week...


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XdGtmAW3UeE

[*WhenWizardsWar]

"One Week Later"

In a dark unholy chamber located somewhere in the multiverse, a truly terrifying gathering has assembled, a gathering so powerful and so long lived many of them had earned the arrogance and respect that many of them wielded. They sat at a square table, well...some sat rather..others floated, some stood and others simply existed, not really there at all thanks to the powers of magical projection, all of them currently conversed quietly, sometimes loudly as egos and frustrations clashed.

"We invested alot of resources into this plan and it would have succeeded if it wasn't for him! We should have chosen someone ELSE to lead the efforts on Illia!".

"He was the most logical candidate considering the resources and influence of his cult and his knowledge of wyrms!"

"I say replace him, there are plenty of others out there who are more capable them him! What about Larloc..."

"No one has heard from Larloc in over two thousand years, and even if we could find him he would be as much of a liability as he would an asset".

The powerful group of long lived beings suddenly exploded into loud arguments that continued on for sometime until the sound of glass rolling across the table drew their attention. They fell silent and all eyes fell upon a vial of glass rolling down the length of the table, eyes drifted toward the man, a lich at the front of the table.

"I never said we failed completely, Illia has been destroyed and the potential draconic man power with it, the king killer star is no more at least until its rebirth in a few thousand years....but we have not completely failed".

One of the assembled entities reached forward and lifted up the vial and sniffed it, his eyes suddenly rolling back in his head in ectasy, his kind having an affinity for such substances.

"The king killer chamber where our meeting took place was sharp, and jagged, before i had to evacuate the chamber prior to the mountains detonation, i found that dripping down a very sharp fragment on the ground, I tested the sample many times and its real".

At that point the room fell completely silent and the one who had sniffed the vial set it upright on the table as he leaned back in his seat with a whistle.

The room fell quiet, all eyes on the vial until finally someone looked to the lich who produced teh vial.

"So that is really her blood Sammaster?"

The lich's necrotic face smiled with an evil plotting grin.

[*Nimiane]

Endless. Despite the fact things were beginning to look up and return to some semblance of normalcy, that is how it felt. With the possibility that more blood had been spilled as events followed the group back to Illia because of her actions, in addition the to numerous questions that still needed answers, Odette couldn't help but feel slightly overwhelmed. What had they, but their lives and the knowledge that they had severed a deal, to show for it. The news of the recent attack on innocent men and women at the clinic sickened the bardess to her very core, and enraged her beyond belief. The deaths, the assassination attempts were terrible enough as it was, but the not knowing, the not being able to do anything about it. . . that's what got to her the most.

Having collected up as much information as she could at present, Odette stared down at the charcoal rubbing of a dragon-embossed coin that sat before her on the table of the den she had come to call home. Fingers drumming on the table thoughtfully, the thumb of her free hand brushed over the tattered edge of the parchment before moving it aside to make way for her original notes. After pulling a few fingers through her hair, and exhaling a long breath through puffed cheeks, she dips her quill in a nearby pot of ink and goes about scrawling additional notes, both amendments and additions. Once completed, another scrap of blank parchment is pulled into the mix as the bardess attempted to scribe her understanding of the current situation.

Assassination, possibly linked to Sammaster.

Target: Brindas Defeign
Weapon: Dual Vorpal Blades

What we know:

• Assassin asked for Brindas by name, suggesting that was all he had to go by or was clarifying on a description given.
• Attack happened within the bazaar, the assassin was either foolish or expected to be killed for it. Possibly meant as a distraction?
• Weapon of choice were vorpal blades, intended for the use of separating head from body.
• Medical assessment confirmed the blades were also riddled with poison and disease.
• Both "For the Wyrm" and "The Cult of the Wyrm" were mentioned by attacking parties.
• Refugees from the prime of Galvinar (a prime bombarded with the debris of a dying Illia) were also slain, following their recovery in the House of Healing.
• A tiny wyrm's tooth, and a coin bearing the image of a dragon were among the possessions found on the corpses of the assassins.

What can be assumed/possible theories:

• Possibly linked to Sammster's Cult of the Dragon, of Toril. A verse sub-branch, perhaps? Or another term for it, given that wyrms and dragons are often interchangeable.
• When initial contact with Sammaster was made, Brindas gave his name. It is possible that it is the only name known, despite physical descriptions being the surest way to identify those involved with the events on Illia.
• The refugees of Galvinar may have been mistaken for the escaped citizens of Illia, and thus were murdered to prevent any knowledge of those events from leaking?

These theories, however, should be taken with a grain of salt. It is possible that these attacks have nothing to do with Sammaster or his cult despite all fingers pointing in that direction. It would be foolish to limit ourselves to a single train of thought.

((Mild tweaking to come))

[*Lucadia]

Magic letter sent by temporal blink dog, making its way to the nexus of the eternal maelstrom that resides in the Demi-plane of Time.

Report Status

Field Agent : Valthonis, Guardian Intelligence Network (G.I.N)

Addressed to: Administration of the Council, Director Marshal of the Order

Threat Level:High

Concerning:False Guardians

An Organization has been inducting its self into the Mult-iverse as we know it, claiming to be the Guardians of T.I.M.E. Instead of prime directives of preserving temporal prime and the timelines, I was witnessed to them and dozens of their T.I.M.E agents attempt to manipulate events on the course of one mans life.

T.I.M.E refers to Temporal Instability Accuracy Management Equalizers, headed by a man called Inspector Chronus.

Witnessed to the T.I.M.E guardians attempting to coercer other individuals to go back and alter their previous actions . Other options included assassination of their target and time erasure.

The target of their ire, a Captain Edman Scar, claims to been attacked and kept in continuous time loop as he fought against thousands of agents.

Presuming this to be true, then the containing theories possible to fit.

~Thousands of corrupted chronomancers, Time Raiders, have banded together in organization attempting to take control of certain parts of history for their own profit.

~Time loop caught just a few agents, sending them back and back again to fight. Leading to continuous momentum for powering powerful magic created by the maelstrom of potential paradoxes (Directing the King Killer comet to destroy Scar or similar. Mass Event Horizon)

~Invasion from another time line or reality, breaking into our universe.

Concerns-

The Prime of Illia was destroyed shortly after the events of the continuous time loop. True extent of further damage to that space and extending reach is unknown.
Monumental explosion, loss of thousands of lives in the time line in that area, is sure made it a danger, vulnerable to exploitation.

I know these people are not apart of our Order and a dangerous enemy to those working toward to preserving the time line without major incident.

Additional: Possible involvement of a chronomancer agency called the Clock Masters from another prime.

Requesting information and orders while remaining on the field.

[*WhenWizardsWar]

Perhaps much to his surprise, Argent actually gets a response!.

He is sitting in the Bazaar one cycle when a monodrone delivers a box to him, not a very big box maybe one foot on all sides. When he opens the box he finds a strange contraption, it looks like a gold hour glass but instead of being filled with sand it looks like its filled with thousands of tiny diamonds, very tiny diamonds, the device has a recepticle on one side that looks like it fits over ones eye.

He would recognise this device as a very rare hard to come by recording device, so rare is the device the agency only uses it to record the most classiifed important events and information which means the information contained within is a big deal. The device functions primarily because of the thousands of diamonds that reside within, each diamond imprinted with a tiny peice of a picture, each facet of each diamond containing a different peice of a different picture. When he holds his eye to the recepticle, a tiny needle actually punctures his pupil and studies his eye as a form of identification and somehow avoids permanently damaging the eye.

//Please, see me in game so we can play out the contents of the hour glass!

[*Lucadia]

The alabaster Silvanesti sat for seemed like an eternity for him at the table in front of Kheezts. For those passing by or had been observing, it was little more then just an hour, as he stared transfixed against the eyepiece, his hands gripped upon the golden framed hourglass. Countless diamonds within the device whirled and turned in place. He finally relinquished his grip after the amounted time, the elf flushed with heat and nearly singed on his fingers. Perhaps those with keen ears could hear him muttering a few coherent words, Mainly "Intertwined Destiny" and "Here at the beginning".


After, he curtly picked the priceless artefact and carried it to his "abode" residing in the Clerks' Ward. The usual resident of Melethkanara and any visiting company will now likely notice this device rests on the Pilots' upstairs table, near the control deck, gems twinkling and glittering under the pulsing lights of the ship.

He lays down for reverie, to recall the vivid events, play them back as his own personal recording device, formulating the questions and preparation for the next time he uses it.

[*WhenWizardsWar]

-Unstoppable Force-

The void...
Cold...
Empty...
Lethal...

It had been just over a month since Illias explosion, and in her death has followed a debris cloud of devastation.

First, came the prime of Galvinar, Illias remains had rained down upon the prime and claimed the lives of many thousands.

But Galvinars people were spread out to begin with, and there were so few and so life, had survived. As Illias remains drifted through the void, bits and pieces were pulled in this direction or that, obeying the pull of gravity from worlds her corpse passed.

Galvinar was luck.

Yick, was not so lucky. The prime of Yick with just over a two millions souls had caught hold of a sizable piece of Illias Carcass and dragged it close...to close..

All life upon Yick was extinquished...

Now only two pieces of Illia remain, and perhaps the most destructive ones of them all.

Members of P.A.L, the Prime Astrology League, have reached out to people across the primes, and indeed across the multi-verse, calling for and forming groups of helpful heros in order to band them together to stop these last two fragments from causing untold destruction.

Atmos the Astrologer is leading the team of heros on Sigil and can be reached often within the laboratory in the lower ward.

The task is massive, beyond measurable scope but many are willing to try and it is a good thing for the stakes could not be higher.

P.A.L calculates that in one month a peice of Illia half the size of the continent of faerun will strike a prime called Luster and exterminate all life on the world, not even the tinyest germ is likely to survive, so many millions will die.

But it gets worse.

In two months time the prime of Aurelia will be struck by Illias last fragment, this one the size of the entire continent of faerun, and not only will it destroy every living thing on the prime, but because of Aurelias small size the impact will shatter the tiny prime into more pieces and cause another chain reaction...

The smartest, and bravest heros from around the multi-verse are gathering to theorise and plan ways to handle these two deadly giants from completing their journeys.

Those involved with Illias past...some curse their fate...some take this as a means of redemption...a chance to save many when they could not do so before Illias destruction.

And yet...in the back of their minds, all who were on Ilia during that fateful time cant forget that the threat from the void is not the only danger they must watch out for for even as the two brings of extinction glide through the void between primes...other evils that survived Illias destruction still churn the gears of their insidious plans...