Private Tales Hidden from Death

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk

Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk

When there's no more room in hell
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Tundras East of Belgrath
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The Icy wastes of Belgrath were not to be traversed lightly. World renowned for being one of the coldest regions traversable by mortal men, and feared greatly for the many who have succumbed to it's frozen grasp.

Having travelled there many times when he was younger, Maho knew too well the effects the cold could have on a person; the way it nipped at your exterior, slowly making its way to your warm centre, cooling you from the outside-in. He'd been requested to help a fellow adventurer to collect some sort of artefact of unspecified origin, and a mage would be needed at some point. In the city he'd bought 4 layers of furs to put on-top of his robe, as well as adding charms on his skin to contain body heat. Most wizards wouldn't take physical layers of protection, but Maho knew too well what happened if you relied too much on your magic in this place.

You die.

He reached the cavern in the middle of the Frozen Tundra, surrounded by mountains of snow and ice. A huge opening, surrounded by a barrier of magic: a charm meant to ward off those of weak-mind. He tapped on the exterior of the barrier, and it dissolved before him. Entering, the ceiling was a giant-high, looking as if it spanned cities.

Beyond him was a man standing, a lexicon in hand, surveying the surroundings.

"I believe you're the one that summoned me here?"

Nidraak
 
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'With the snow and the ice as the white canvas flooring, the cavern floor was littered by all sorts of visible debris. Most notably pine needles that gave the area a resiny bitter-sweet aroma. From all sides rose giant stalagmites out of crystal-clear ice.

The little elf that conjured this expedition stood plainly there in the middle, quietly reading some verses off something that only appeared as a gate once that fact was pointed out to you.
»O'vik Ddeeshin b'ruin ni K'Baarin helth Brialin...«
»Veela-tai Khaahmatsegtai Z'Bassrani-« Faelin would turn head as the crunching snow that echoed throughout the cavern alerted him of the presence of another.

»Ah. Maho Spahawk...So you've accepted my summons.«
 
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He stepped forwards towards his benefactor, the pine-needles making great crunching sounds underneath his boots at he walked, their aroma filling the room, a sickly sweet scent that corrupted the 1 dimensional smell and purity of the cool and clear ice.

"Pleasure to meet you, Faelin?" He met face to face with him, placing his hand forward to shake his.

"First time in Belgrath?" He said, almost slipping as he did, losing the traction of his boots to the slippery littered surface of the crystalline floor.
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Faelin K'Abveirin
 
»Faelin, K'Abveirin, « the elf spoke as he was about to bow but then instead took the mage's arm and shook it lightly.
»Around, yes, passed it multiple times, but in...never...Watch out, it's slippery,« he said dryly after the fact.
Faelin shook his head briefly as he trod towards the narrowest section of the cavern that was still well lit.
»Are you versed in any foreign languages? Elven. Ancient elven, particularly dark elven to be precise. Any local goblin or other underground spawn by chance...«
 
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"Yes, i speak a little dark elven, although i'm more versed in general Elven. Uh, i speak Goblin, and am fluent in Orcish! Not much else however. Don't find many Dark elves to speak to in the North." He said apprehensively. He was a little out of practice, but luckily found time to use his array of languages in Belgrath.

Atop his staff, a light sprouted, sent to the roof of the cavern, softly lighting the surrounding area. Although it was already well lit, he wanted to make sure it stayed that way.

"Well, whatever we're looking for, lead on."

Faelin K'Abveirin
 
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»Particularly this accent?, It's very archaic it seems to me, but well whatever it is...We'll do just fine I suppose. Not like we'll end up walking into an ancient riddle and whatnot. ... - I would not concern myself over it.«
Faelin would turn and walk towards something that appeared like a natural cave to most people. But to Him, he could see that the floor was not just bumpy, it held the collective footprints of thousands of people whom once walked these chambers and tunnels. The walls were shaped by hand, but in a style unknown to everyone that never lived among such stonework. Just like how surface dwellers knew where the south, north and east were, what forest they lay in, where what animal trod. So too Faelin knew the underground, and many of those subtle clues lost to others, were home to him.

He would continue down the tunnel that led from the massive chamber.
»This here is an entry way to an ancient temple, I read belonged to house Z'Bassrani. Perhaps the progenitors of my entire race...«
 
"Your entire race? Finding a temple like that is quite a rare find. Although, it is pretty cold in here..." He shawled his furs over him more, the cold getting to him a little.

The whole cavern was as if built for the purpose of a labyrinth. Twists and turns at every corner, every inch looking like every other inch, the reflections making you lose your location; easy enough to get lost in. He began to understand why so many people die looking for artefacts in the underground: starving once they'd found themselves in a place which they were unfamiliar.

"Not to pry or anything, but have you any idea what we're searching for?"

Faelin K'Abveirin
 
It seemed almost absurd how easily the elf navigated through the cavern. It was truly his home.
But he had to keep a healthy distance from the mage's light.
»Don't worry, It'll get warmer soon. The caverns are consistent however.«

Faelin faltered a bit, looking around before picking a left turn in a fork.

»Yes... Some minor magical artefacts, but I'm mostly interested into an item worn by everyone...a Tarnkappe.«
 
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"A Tarnkappe? Pretty old word for a cloak of invisibility. Haven't heard that term used since i studied in Elbion-" He laughed a little. A Tarnkappe was a fairly rare find, but not an incredible one. Cloaks of this kind did not need a large amount of magic to upkeep the illusion that one was invisible, even being untraceable by magical means. Those who wore such cloaks were even known for sneaking past dragons undetected.

"Impressive hearing about one, haven't seen one since i visited the Spine three years past."

He remembered well the wizard. He went about stealing things from the Great library; ancient tomes that hadn't been read for centuries. He was eventually caught of course, the cloak being kept in a cabinet above the college's main hall.

"Did you want it for personal use? I mean, i of course can see why."

Faelin K'Abveirin
 
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»Each single cloak is different, and this particular design belongs to my kin. The tradition was sadly lost when the last coatmaker died back home,« Faelin quietly rambled as his fingers gently traced the masonry.
»These tunnels are ancient. It almost looks like natural stone, as rare as it is where underfolk live.«
The elf began to tread more slowly before the stopped entierly and visibly leaned forward.

»Hmm...We have a little problem here...« Faelin's voice echoed significantly.

When the light of the mage would come close enough, a gaping chasm would open up beneath them. So deep it was hard to see the bottom of the pit with surface sighted eyes.
 
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"Oh...!"

Stepping a little too close to the edge, he got a horrible feeling of vertigo; he hated heights, and even worse hated the idea of falling hundreds of metres to his inevitable death. He wasn't sure whether they had to cross it, or if what they needed to find was at the bottom of it. In any case, he didn't like the idea of either of those outcomes.

"So uh, are we going... down? Or should we find another way across?"

Faelin K'Abveirin
 
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The elf pondered for a brief moment before stating. »Hmm...Quiet now.«

He crouched and picked up a rock. Not even his super sensetive vision could help him in these semi iluminated conditions.

He held his breath and dropped a pebble in the chasm.





...




...



...

-plip-

Well that knowledge did not help a bit resolve this situation. Weather the stagnant water below is 10 meters deep or just half a foot.
 
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"Uh...Oh. I see..." As the rock hit the bottom of the chasm, so did Sparhawk's confidence. That was a long way down. Even though a simple spell could take them down, he didn't want to take any chances.

"Let me try something. Luit..." After saying the words, a beam of light shot from the end of his staff, making it's way through the middle of the ravine. The light reflected off the sides of the ice, making a light show that was oddly beautiful, but dooming at the very same time.

Revealed in the bottom of the chasm was a path through the deep water, must have been 7 metres deep. Below it seemed to lay a hole that had odd symbols around the edge. It was below the water however. The cold... freezing... frostbiting water...

"Well. Uh... I don't want to waste my magic..." He gulped, knowing what he'd have to do. Jump in.

"On 3?"

Faelin K'Abveirin
 
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Now this was invasive. Faelin covered his eyes too late as the light flashed.
He was a dark elf not a light elf!
.»Why did you...What. what on 3. « Faelin spoke in a very agitated tone, still blinded.
 
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Sparhawk turned to his left, took a hold of Faelin's shoulder.

"This is happening."


Faelin gave him a face of slight concern.

"1"

Faelin gave him a face of moderate concern.

"2"

Faelin gave him a face of extreme concern.

"3!"


He lunged Faelin and himself forward, plunging downwards into the ice-cold water.

Faelin K'Abveirin
 
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What happned. Falling falling Faelin falling. He held onto his hat for dear life.


SPLASH

The cold water chilled him so bad the elf instantly gasped for air...
Only problem... he was underwater.

on the surface he splashed around, thanfully land was not far away and the first thing he did was grab onto a ledge.
 
Oh god it's cold Oh god it's cold Oh god it's cold Oh god it's cold Oh god it's cold Oh god it's cold Oh god it's cold

That was the only thing going through Sparhawk's mind at that very moment. The cool death of the water creeping up on them both, his clothes soaked to his core, his layers of fur drenched and thrice heavy as they were. He didn't realise quite how heavy his clothes would end up being, feeling as if he was being drawn to the floor. He began to sink, his boots filling up with water.

He reached up, but nothing held his hand. Was this is? Was this the end of his story?

Suddenly, he fell.

How does one fall in water?

A hole below the water drew him in, and spat him out the other side. He slammed against the cold, stone floor. He was in a very large hall, with strange writings littered across the room.

"HEY! COME DOWN HERE! IT'S FIIIINE!" He shouted with all his might to reach Faelin above the water. If he doesn't he might freeze to death...

Faelin K'Abveirin
 
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The elf wheezed and coughed like a madman. But soon enough he was able to regain his breath.
»ARE YOU...MAD.. no i'm serious, you're quite crazy.« The aquaphobic elf shook his head.
 
"Hey! I'm not- Well.... I...." He said, apprehensively.

Fair enough.

"Anyway, what is this place? It's got symbols everywhere... i don't recognise any of them." The walls were littered with hundreds of symbols, both curvy and jagged. Not any language he knew. Curious...

Faelin K'Abveirin
 
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»You know. I NEVER COULD BELIEVE THAT OUR ANCESTORS, THE DARK ELVES TRACED THEIR ROOTS FROM HERE. I, - WE. WE ALL BELIEVED WE WERE NATIVES FROM THE TRANSIT ISLANDS...«

Faelin looked around, shiwering like a dog. He removed his clothes for now.

»FUNNY, THOSE ON THE GATES ARE VERY PRIMITIVE LOGOGRAMS.«
He began looking around the ledge to find a stairway that went up but was broken...aha...they were supposed to encounter this. Thankfully the way down was preserved. Faelin began walking down.
»WELL. YOU SAID YOU'RE VERSED IN DARK ELVEN...WHICH? BECAUSE THE SYMBOLS HERE ARE THE SAME IN MEANING, JUST SIMPLER DRAWN IN THE MODERN UNDERGROUND LOGOGRAPHIC SCRIPT. TRY WARP YOUR MIND AROUND IT.«
 
"It's been so long since i looked at scripts of this type. When i visited the outer-regions of Belgrath, i studied some texts on ancient Elven Literature, but nothing like this before..." He said, with a sense of vague confusion.

They were extremely odd. Never before had he seen script so old on walls, written by those long before his time. Beautiful of course, they had very sharp edges, but also curved and graceful lines, odd for a language seen as primitive in modern arcane literature.

"Well, i don't think i'll make much of it. Any progress?"

Faelin K'Abveirin
 
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Soon enough the dark elf stumbled upon the large chamber where Maho stood. »Ancient elven will help you little it's very different from..., it's even hard to know what the most ancient lanshitanian sounded like.«
»Yeah second, second. -« The elf spoke out before suddenly standing still over the paintings.
Faelin seemed frozen still, before turning from side to side.
Text was all over and on every face of the cavern that would seem natural to those not savvy in the underground. Yet paintings that lay seemed odd, the people were pale like snow.

Faelin walked around a little, searching for the beginning, after a while speaking random tidbits of text.
»Those who'se souls are ligter, heavier, not guilty than air, spirit, could ascend, rise onto afterlife - The beast uhh u...'fire-ant-salamander' would devour ...- to prepare one had to bind, confine, shackle...« Faelin murmured, pulling out various terminologies for symbols as he ran cross the texts.
 
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A fire Salamander? What am i in for?

Sparhawk had to admit, going into this he wasn't imagining that they'd be talking about extraordinary fire-ant Salamanders who desired ritual sacrifice. Faelin was throwing definitions and scrawlings of writings into the air, lamenting over them. He had clearly waited a long time to find writings of this kind, and was taking advantage of the opportunity.

Sparhawk was still struggling with the texts. Even he had to admit, he hadn't studied Ancient languages in any great detail, and tended to focus mainly on the linguistics of the modern age; languages that would aid him in his travels. He could make out the odd word, or try to discern a section of grammar, or even a semblance of structure, but most of was unknown to him, making him feel at odds with himself.

"Anything of our Artefact? I can't make much from these symbols... perhaps you can teach me in future!" He jested. Jests were needed when you were in a dark, dingy cave, wet to your shoes, frozen in your clothes, reading texts you couldn't half understand.

God, i wish i'd studied harder...
 
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»... Here they came the departed, witnessed by the stargazers. The king of moon and stars took their heart one by one, weighted it against a stargazers' breath. Those of spirits free of burden, hearts light of clear consciousness would ascend past the boundaries of soil. But those who's hearts were burned by sin, their soul was to be devoured by the ant-salamander...« Faelin finally summarised...Reminding him of fairytales he heard. This here seems as a guide for arterlife processions instead if tales of devouring beasts and sacrifices his elders told him about.


Faelin didn't need to learn one bit
»Tarnkappen were daily garbs,« he slowly murmured as he backed off, still ovserving the cavern paintings. »We should be able to just stmble upon one just so...«
 
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Again with the Salamander...

"This seems far... far beyond my expertise... " Sparhawk felt fairly sheepish; Faelin was so familiar with the craft of words and runes, speaking off the various tales with such ease. In comparison, Sparhawk was like a babe being guided through his first text.

Sigh...

As he heard the words, he noted them down in a small notebook he'd picked up near Belgrath. He'd forgotten about the markets that could be gawked at, their various items interesting, but of course, overpriced. He made sure to get every Syllable of what his companion was saying, knowing the information could come in handy later.

"Well, i'm all out of ideas... i mean, we could always try to... you know..."

"Burst... through the wall... maybe?"

Come on Maho, that's just stupid. All this ancient architecture, he'd never agree to such a foolhardy plan.

Faelin K'Abveirin
 
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