Noct Yaegir A Reflection of Oneself - Dungeon Raid

[Sigrith]

OPEN BOUNTY
Tulsom Gem Mine
Cortosi Coast

To the brave warrior, mage, or traveler seeking treasures from the deep: your assistance is needed!

Our deepest mine shaft has opened up an ancient chamber and awakened something terrible. Many miners have perished by the hands of what we believe to be stone golems formed in the likeness of those found within. Whosoever helps in ridding our mine of whatever untoward being creating these stone mirrors may fill their pockets with as many gems from the mines as they can find!

~~~​

"Hmmmm," said the old mage as he stood before the opening of the mine entrance, "there appears to be some kind of magical ward."

Darkstride had been sitting there for nearly an hour, having accompanied the old mage up through the mountain pass to reach the mine. She wasn't here simply as an escort to keep the man safe, but as a Noct Yaegir on an active bounty. The mage, a halfling that looked like he'd spent too much time with the dwarves, had plopped his satchel full of scrolls down in the clearing beyond the entrance and warned the dire wolf to go no further an hour ago.

Pembrik Pellthumb was his name and puzzling out mysterious magics was, allegedly, his game.

As a witch stuck in the body of a direwolf, there wasn't a whole heck of a lot Darkstride could do to offer as help. Having lost her opposable thumbs several years prior, she was limited in her means of crafting and directing the eddies of the ethereal.

"Is it unsafe to pass?" asked the wolf with a bored flick of its tail.

"Undetermined," answered Pembrik, "we musn't assume anything until we have considered everything."

The wolf's ears drooped. She was afraid of that. "Perhaps I should hunt for dinner then..." they might be here a while. Long enough for others that picked up the bounty to arrive before they even got a head start into the mine.

 

[Dario Aragonés]

Dario was bustling down the trail with a bulky bag hanging heavily on his shoulders. While his cape helped a little with the weight, Baal did not like being used as some sort of pack mule, so Dario was still sweating profusely under the weight.

The young apprentice had been sent to hurry to this location after receiving word that his Master's friend Pembrik would be here searching for the magical phenomenon. His master had determined that to be an excellent chance for experience for the young man.

The jangling and clanking of camping supplies along with several magical tools did little to hide Dario's arrival from those already there.

"Um, excuse me, is there a Master Pellthumb here? Fen'Radel sent me. I'm Dario, his apprentice."

Sigrith

 

[Sigrith]

Having expected to be joined by others eventually, the wolf made no move to stand guard as she heard the adventuring tune that heralded the arrival of a young mage. Curious fellow, and short in the tooth. This region of the world truly was lacking in the art of packing efficiently and carrying only what one needed. Then again, the weather he was remarkably less life-threatening than that of the frozen tundras of the north.

"Fen'Radel!" said Pembrik, bushy brows shooting upwards in the coil of silver curls, "I've not seen him in years. Last we spoke he said he was done with Apprentices." The halfling chortled as he gave the young man a short look-over, "You must be a special case indeed. Come and make yourself useful."

Pembrik gestured to a general open area where Dario could set down his things.

The direwolf watched Dario intently with its strange mismatched eyes.

"Tell me my boy, what's your familiarity with magical wards. I want you to assess the ward of the mine opening and give me your determination."

 

[Afanas]

Sigrith Dario Aragonés

A tall, long-limbed man sat on a flat boulder about two dozen paces from the mouth of the cave. He was of the handsome stock, his flesh the hue of a bleached skull. From his tapering, angular countenance stared slanted eyes, twin stygian pools glimmering behind a net of loose bangs.

They narrowed, those two orbs of polished onyx, regarding the people before them with superficial interest.

Afanas' gaze fell upon the gnomish mage. The man was a caricature, an amalgamation of features that no sane mind would've elected to slap together, yet, for all the oddity, Afanas was happy that their little motley crew would have a fully fledged mage following them into the cavern.

Afanas rose from his seated position, his towering frame casting a looming shadow in the low illumination. He glanced at the heavens above, finding them overcast. There was just the right amount of clouds present to blot out the sun. This prevented its nauseating rays from reaching the vampire's sensitive face. Sunlight didn't technically burn him, but it sure as shit left him feeling bothered. He found little enjoyment walking in broad daylight, much less fighting in it.

Anafas got on his tippy toes to stretch. His impressive musculature strained against the stretchy fabric of his tight-fitting bodysuit, leaving little to the imagination. For once, he avoided having to wear a cumbersome cloak and the wide-brimmed traveler's hat, two items that all but became the staples of his wardrobe.

Not knowing how else to kill time, he decided to butt in on the trio's little conversation. Well, less butt-in and more making his presence a pinch more obvious by sauntering over to them, his stride languid and unbothered.

"Pardon my tardiness, honored colleagues. I got lost in reverie."

 

[Ezomir Farajal]

A strange bounty, but in this there was value, for one always had to go just slightly beyond the familiar in order to grow and prosper.

Thus did Ezomir set out from Crobhear Keep and to the Portal Stone of the Spine. He could, as he always did, pray for forgiveness for the use of the Portal Stones, for such was condemned by Jura. But beyond matters of religion there was the matter of the experience itself: and travel via a Portal Stone Ezomir would never define as a good or pleasant thing. Reliably it featured an unsettling aspect, and transported him all too vividly to a terrible memory, that of the monstrous kraits, clicking and chittering in the dark of the woods, as he and his brothers and sisters struggled to survive. He did not like it, Portal Stone travel, but he endured it.

He would arrive then from the Spine to the Falwood Portal Stone in the land of Aniria. A land in a state of war, so far as Ezomir knew. His own destination for the bounty would hardly remove him from its shadow.

But his travel went without incident, though on one occasion involving a squad of elves, waiting in ambush, Ezomir was quite glad for the reputation of the Noct Yaegir, and producing his Yaegir pendant spared him from being waylaid. These elves were hunting humans of a different kind.

On, then, did Ezomir go. The Tulsom Gem Mine in the region of the Cortosi Coast remained his object, and entering into the mountain pass so described hinted at his being on the right track. But he would know he had come to the right place when he would lay eyes upon a familiar personage, a fellow Noct Yaegir, yet one elder and more experienced than him.

Darkstride. Indeed, Ezomir was hardly a hunter when first he came to a Keep of the order, and it was she who had been his mentor; only a small matter of months removed him from his apprenticeship.

Now in the final stretch of his journey, with the Tulsom Mine in view, he saw her (difficult was she to miss!) along with the halfling (a peculiar people of whom Ezomir had no true ken) mentioned by Warden Sionoma with regard to the bounty. Ezomir was not the first to show, for two other men, one of whom was possessed of extraordinary height, had come. But all were outside, not inside, as Ezomir might have thought. An odd development.

Ezomir approached at the tail end of Pembrik's question of Dario, hearing only that Dario was being entreated for his determination of something.

First with a nod of acknowledgement to Darkstride, Ezomir would then turn his attention to the halfling with politeness and brevity in mind.

"Master Pellthumb."

And now the circle had become a quintet—Pembrik, Darkstride, Dario, Afanas, and Ezomir—and the first challenge of the bounty lay before them all.

Sigrith Dario Aragonés Afanas

 

[Dario Aragonés]

Dario scratched the back of his head sheepishly at the first comment from the halfling as it was not the first time he had heard someone say something similar. His master had complained quite a bit when Dario had first come under his tutelage.

"Oh yes, but he and my grandmother were friends and she called in a favor to ensure I continued my studies." He explained quickly only to realize that these people probably did not care about any of that. They were here to do work.

"Y-Yes, I can take a look." His own experience of wards could be considered very broad, but also not extremely deep. His grandmother had been considered a master of the art so naturally Dario had learned much, but she had been a fan of teaching on the fly, and that led to little time to really study singular topics.

Before he switched to examining the wards, the young man finally took the time to get a look at all the other companions. The first was the direwolf, the first time he had ever seen such a creature and the beast was looking at him so closely. It was wholly unsettling for any animal to be so focused and calm.

The next was...holy shit. What was he looking at, the man was a giant towering over what had to be near 7'0 and he had pale skin that certainly the Cortosi sun would not be kind to. He had seen orcs and trolls reach the height of this man, but no human who also somehow had such a lithe figure.

Finally, the last man only to arrive was not nearly as tall, thank goodness but carried himself with a calm confidence about him setting him apart as also a professional. Dario could quickly feel his throat drying up with nerves, but he coughed out.

"Uh, p-pleasure to meet you all."

 

[Sigrith]

"Pardon my tardiness, honored colleagues. I got lost in reverie."

The wolf's attention shifted to the tallest man it had laid eyes on in many, many years. Though the nose knew what the eyes did not immediately: this was no true man. Darkstride made no sound but the hackles along the beast's ruff did frill in alert, pushing feathers of gleaming black to stand erect along its scruff like poised quills.

"Weh-heh-hell," the halfling nearly had to bend over backward to turn his head high enough to look Afanas in the eye, "they do make 'em tall these days, don't they. Welcome, welcome, we're just getting ready."

"Master Pellthumb."

"Ah - eh?" Pellthumb looked to Ezomir, eyes squinting and hand lifting to itch at his balding scalp under his hat, "Look at that, I see you've earned your Yaegir pendant. I suppose that means they've foisted a new pup on ol' Darkstride here, euheuheu."

The wolf's ears pinned over a bemused stare at the halfling mage.

"Oh yes, but he and my grandmother were friends and she called in a favor to ensure I continued my studies." He explained quickly only to realize that these people probably did not care about any of that. They were here to do work.

"Y-Yes, I can take a look."

"Well get on with it then ladie, we've lots of miles to walk! Now," Pellthumb turned his attention to the others assembled, "have any of you heard of or dealt with a Spiegel?"

"Is that supposed to be a dog joke?" the wolf intoned flatly. She had become accustomed to being the butt of most jokes about Crobhear Keep, but so goes the social standing of most dogs and witches.

"Not a Beagel," Pellthumb shook his head with a chortle as he began to sort through his bag of many scrolls, "a Spiegel. Well, anyone?"

 

[Afanas]

The wolf's attention shifted to the tallest man it had laid eyes on in many, many years. Though the nose knew what the eyes did not immediately: this was no true man. Though Darkstride made no sound, the hackles along the beast's ruff did frill in alert, pushing feathers of gleaming black to stand erect along its scruff like poised quills.

"Weh-heh-hell," the halfling nearly had to bend over backward to turn his head high enough to look Afanas in the eye, "they do make 'em tall these days, don't they. Welcome, welcome, we're just getting ready."

Afanas found it difficult to suppress his amusement. A soft chuckle fluttered past his thin lips, like the wings of a butterfly about to take off. After an awkward moment, the corner of his mouth twitched into his cheek. He was feeling mirthful and a smidge more alive than usual. The halfling thaumaturge had successfully infected him with some of that electrifying energy. It was always like that with little people; either they were proverbial balls of energy and good humor or the prickliest of pricks exuding a miasma of animosity so potent it could make food go sour.

"I've my progenitor to thank for it. Although I'm gargantuan by human standards, my frame is but a fraction of my father's bulk. I'd look like a pinecone next to him."

Sigrith's discomfort didn't fly under the radar. Afanas swiftly took notice of the way the woman's posture changed and assumed her to be disquieted by his very presence. He presented his dominant hand to her, the flat of his palm turned skyward. His digits were long, thewy, and talon-like, each tipped with a darkly lacquered cleaver-claw; an incongruous feature, the way it clashed with his handsome, if not slightly over-accentuated, physiognomy.

"I mean no harm, truly. I feel obligated to dispel some of your worries, lest I fear having them interfere with the undertaking we are heading into."

 

[Ezomir Farajal]

Uh, p-pleasure to meet you all.

And to Dario Ezomir gave a similar nod to the one he had given to Darkstride. Certainly he had been entrusted by Master Pellthumb on investigating the matter which frustrated their entry into the mine—no small honor, that.

Master Pellthumb himself spoke aloud his notice of Ezomir's fresh Yaegir pendant, musing as well of a new apprentice perhaps sent to Darkstride for guidance, and in return Ezomir offered the halfling a humble smile and said, "A stray, just like me, I imagine."

But Pellthumb's question would be lost to Ezomir as he came to notice a mounting tension in his former mentor Darkstride. Her form, that of a direwolf, had struck him dumb and left him in a fright when first he saw her, but over the years he had come to acquaint himself with it—and with its particular lupine qualities. Hackles raised, eyes on the tall man, Ezomir knew Darkstride suspected something, even if he himself did not.

Ezomir's hand trailed to his belt, close to his sheathed sword.

Yet the tall man responded with an offering of peace. Ezomir flicked his eyes from Afanas back to Darkstride, and he resolved to mirror her actions, to do as she did, to accept peace or, if some deception was afoot, to make war.

Sigrith Afanas Dario Aragonés

 

[Sigrith]

The wolf bristled at the advance, ears pinned and nose lifted to bear her formidably sized teeth that had countless times before severed limb from dark creature and would again given the appropriate reason.

Pellthumb chuckled ruefully at Ezomir Farajal with a shake of his head, "All the best Yaegir are, in my experience. But our vertically blessed fellow here is right, we must forsake any sense of rivalry if we are to conquer the danger of this mine. Now is not the time for ancient feuds to resurface, eh Darkstride?"

She snorted in response and turned her maw away from Afanas in a show of neutrality, though were he to make any attempt to actually touch her he would soon find her fangs ready to make her prior point.

No touchie.

"Now, if you'll all gather round," Pellthumb withdrew a long scroll from his bag and rolled it flat across the ground, presenting a map of the Tulsom Gem Mine, "this is outdated by a year, and to my knowledge these mine shafts here, here, and here have been closed." He marked the tips of several tentacle-like appendages.

"I spoke with the Mine Chief and he informed me there is also a new lower level that he could provide no map for, but he made a drawing of." Another parchment rolled out, providing far less detail than the first.

"This area here is the deepest and newest mine shaft, and it was here they discovered an underground chamber. Once they broke the seal on the doors, well... that's when the trouble started. Judging by witness accounts, I believe we are dealing with a very rare and very ancient artefact called a Spiegel."

"Artefact," spoke the direwolf, "not a monster?"

"Ehhh," Pellthumb made a waffling gesture with a hand, "they are hard to categorize seeing as how so few of them were ever discovered. We're not even sure if they are a creation or simply a naturally occurring magical anomaly! What we do know is that every Spiegel ever found was deep beneath the ground. It is my belief they were magical constructs made with the sole purpose of defending something of high value. They cast and create mirrors of those who intrude upon their lair, and not just physical mirrors but magical ones."

The halfling pointed around the group, "It sees you. It knows you. Your greatest strengths and powers will be pit against you, or others, equal in proportion to that power which you hold now. Make no mistake, if I am right - this is the type of mission that claims lives."

 

[Afanas]

Ezomir Farajal Dario Aragonés Sigrith

Afanas canted his head to the side before respectfully retracting his hand, letting his arms rest limply at his sides. Sigrith's animus was so thick, so palpable he could've cut through it with a knife. Nonetheless, the wolf woman owned him nothing; inversely, he owed her just as little, bare professionalism aside.


Although laconicism wasn't his preferred approach, he chose to avoid further antagonizing Sigrith. It wasn't that he felt threatened by her in any notable capacity, but he feared creating bad blood that could put his "colleagues" in a disadvantageous spot.

He turned to face Pellthumb, trying desperately to maintain some measure of eye contact with the much smaller man. His father had all but drilled into his head the importance of maintaining a shared gaze when conversing with another.

"Ehhh," Pellthumb made a waffling gesture with a hand, "they are hard to categorize seeing as how so few of them were ever discovered. We're not even sure if they are a creation or simply a naturally occurring magical anomaly! What we do know is that every Spiegel ever found was deep beneath the ground. It is my belief they were magical constructs made with the sole purpose of defending something of high value. They cast and create mirrors of those who intrude upon their lair, and not just physical mirrors but magical ones."

The halfling pointed around the group, "It sees you. It knows you. Your greatest strengths and powers will be pit against you, or others, equal in proportion to that power which you hold now. Make no mistake, if I am right - this is the type of mission that claims lives."

"I remember my father telling me a thing or two about Spiegels, but I'll admit, my priviness over the subject is nothing if not rudimentary."

"Regardless, I'd like to be at the forefront of our descent. Mine is an exceedingly resilient physiology. If we get hit hard and fast, the enemy is likely to focus on me, and that'll give the rest of our band enough time to recuperate."

 

[Dario Aragonés]

Dario hurriedly began his work, but anyone that knew magic would also know that Dario's inspection of the ward was strange. It started basic enough, casting a spell and then writing something down in his notebook, but the inspection quickly devolved into the young man humming a toon, throwing salt at the ward, and poking at the ward with a preserved chicken's foot he had pulled from his back.

When all was said and done, Dario returned to the hunters with a small wrinkle in his nose denoting annoyance with his findings.

"So good news and bad news. Good news first. I can eventually break the ward, but it will take some time. More good news, the ward is only keeping things in for the moment so we can walk right through...Bad news, if we need to make a quick exit, weeelll... we'll be stuck inside until I break the ward."

He offered his own shrug of apology at these professionals who had probably expected something more definitive, but Dario was an apprentice and this magic was not the standard stuff that someone just ran into on an average day.

 

[Ezomir Farajal]

It came to nothing, that taut cord of tension between Ezomir's former master and the man Pellthumb rightfully called "our vertically blessed fellow". And so Ezomir relaxed his hand from the closeness it had to the hilt of his weapon.

As Master Pellthumb would go on to explain, before them indeed lay a peril which demanded unbroken cooperation.

Once this Spiegel artefact had received its explanation, Ezomir could not help but to feel a newfound unease. His Gildan sensibilities always ensured at least a certain level of aversion to magic (what in Jura would be called "chaotic magic"). Many times once Ezomir had ventured out from his homeland and into the wider world of Arethil had he felt this selfsame unease, and, perhaps somewhat naively, he thought often that the newest such instance would be the last, that there couldn't possibly be something even more disquieting than that which he had already seen. Yet here with this Spiegel he was proven wrong once again. For what purpose would such a device even be fashioned? What sort of mind could even conceive of making such a thing? That was, of course, if these Spiegels were not in truth a magical anomaly born of no one's intent—which Ezomir found to be quite a bit more worrying than the latter idea. Were Spiegels an anomaly, it would suggest, at least to Ezomir's reckoning, the terrible vindication of the teachings of Jura, made grimly manifest: that the Wound in the World made by the Gods of Chaos was worsening before his very eyes.

Afanas volunteered to take the vanguard position in their descent into the mine.

Dario, then, reported even more concerning news. And this made Ezomir contemplate the thin difference between bravery and recklessness.

To the group in general, he asked, "Is there a danger, then, of anything escaping from the Mine, or some pressing concern of time? Because it would seem foolhardy to me to lock ourselves inside, when no necessity demands we do so."

Sigrith Dario Aragonés Afanas

 

[Sigrith]

"Regardless, I'd like to be at the forefront of our descent. Mine is an exceedingly resilient physiology. If we get hit hard and fast, the enemy is likely to focus on me, and that'll give the rest of our band enough time to recuperate."

"Good lad, good lad," Pellthumb nodded, giving no argument to the man's offer, "you'll certainly make a better shield than a door, rehehehe."

The direwolf narrowed her eyes but remained silent on the matter.

"So good news and bad news. Good news first. I can eventually break the ward, but it will take some time. More good news, the ward is only keeping things in for the moment so we can walk right through...Bad news, if we need to make a quick exit, weeelll... we'll be stuck inside until I break the ward."

"Is there a danger, then, of anything escaping from the Mine, or some pressing concern of time? Because it would seem foolhardy to me to lock ourselves inside, when no necessity demands we do so."

"Mmmm," at this the halfling rubbed at his chin in thought, "I can't be sure who conjured the ward. If it is a biproduct of the Speigel or set by someone connected to the mine. Either way, it's probably best to leave it as it is. There's no means to telling just how far the Speigel's territory goes - that ward may very well be protecting us right now."

"I will send eyes inside," Darkstride spoke up again, "before we take the chance."

"Are you certain, Darkstride? We may not be able to get you back out."

"Not me," she said in return, moving to stand. With a short rumbling growl she began to shake as a wolf might when ridding its pelt of debris or water. She shook and shook and in the process a flurry of large black feathers flew free from the thick ruff of fur along the back of her neck. With one final shudder something black dropped to the ground and squawked.

HAW it went.

HAW HAW.

The black thing flailed, sending feathers flying again, and out of the chaos flew a great three-eyed herrevan.

HAW HAW HOW FAR DOTH THE MIRROR SHOW it yelled into the sky as it swooped up in a great, circling arch and then glided down past Dario Aragonés, clipping the boy's ear with a wing, and shooop through the ward at the mine entrance. Darkstride watched after it, her mismatched eyes now both a milky white as she saw what her familiar saw as it flew through the tunnel and into the mine.

Some time passed before she blinked the white from her eyes and turned back to the party.

"The way is clear," she confirmed, "at least until it reaches the first main cavern. I cannot see beyond that, too far."

"No immediate danger then," Pellthumb nodded, "we should be able to set up a secure area in the entrance tunnel to retreat to at the very least. So! No time like the now time, let's be on our way. Ezomir, my boy, would you be so kind and carry that crate in over there?" Pellthumb gestured Ezomir Farajal to a crate that was nearly the size of the halfling himself. How it got here was anyone's guess.

"What was your name again son?" he then turned to Dario, "I should like for you to help me secure our safe zone once we're inside."

Darkstride stood by the entrance as the others filed through, her eyes trained on Afanas when he came near, "Your presence puts everyone in danger," she said to him, "are you sure what you seek here is worth that?"

 

[Afanas]

Darkstride stood by the entrance as the others filed through, her eyes trained on Afanas when he came near, "Your presence puts everyone in danger," she said to him, "are you sure what you seek here is worth that?"

Ezomir Farajal

Afanas willed the sword strapped to his back into action and the weapon responded in kind, leaping out of the scabbard like living lighting before coming to float in mid air by Afanas' side, its tip pointing towards the ground. Its blade was long, double edged, fashioned from unnatural, glossy black metal.

Glowing runes lay etched into its surface, seemingly shifting and writhing at random. Its hilt, although adorned with alien symbols, possessed a grip bound in dark, almost leathery material, offering something firm for Afanas to grasp.

A crackling aura of cobalt-blue energy enveloped the sword from tip to pommel.

"I am an independent contractor. I was paid for this and handsomely, too."

"In any case, I'll see to it that we depart from this place with minimal casualties. It is why I volunteered to go first. The lot of you can always make a tactical retreat and leave me behind should things get too hairy."