Fate - First Reply The Sanctuary

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TMITM

TMITM

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A humongous circular, domed, stone building with the entire history of this world and many others chiseled on it's walls and ceiling. There is a great deal of empty space, however, for telling stories that are to come.
The Caretaker lives here, a friendly soul who guards and cleans The Sanctuary, and offers knowledge to all who ask. His soul is bound to The Sanctuary as he chisels out history for all time. He cannot leave. Nor does he want to.
Those with burning questions in their hearts are drawn to this place, seeking answers to all they ask. And the Caretaker will answer them. Be careful, though... you might not like the answer.

At the end of a long hallway, though, is a Door. Sometimes it leaks Darkness, sometimes it radiates Light. Always it is locked.
 
As the young Orc approached the domed building, he couldn't help but stop and stroke his braided, dirty black beard. He had heard a few rumors of this place from a few fellow travelers. Most of them boring, but they held a glimmer of hope for the exiled being.

Grigog wasn't one for written stories nor records told by non-orcs. The beings who wrote these were usually too strict and not alive. Oral stories, like the ones from his tribe, were alive. They adapted, evolved and grew over time, where the stories humans told were just facts and no more. Written stories remained the same, and became stale and useless. Still, just a story itself wasn't what the Orc sought out. He needed something more then just stories. He needed knowledge about magic and power. Perhaps stories told by non-orcs would be the way to help him.

The hulking being shivered with a cold wind. "Dying breaths of dragons" Grigog cursed in his native language, a rising and falling growl. His green skin still wasn't used to these temperatures. Only back at home, when he tried to climb some of the Spines, did he have to endure such cold weather.

Grigog quickly towards the entrance, and with a few heavy strokes, banged on any object he could find with his mighty stick. Even if he wasn't seeking answers, he would've demanded housing at this place to hide from the cold for a few moments.

"If you have a soul and a heart, open up for a weary and thirsty soul!" Grigog demanded, he voice a gutteral growl from the wild.
 
The Caretaker smiled at the newcomer orc, and the doors swung wide open, with the Caretaker standing in front of them.
"Welcome, weary and thirsty soul, my soul and heart, despite being in question from others, is always open to those who seek."
The Caretaker would, of course, give the orc access to the Sanctuary, as he did any traveler that requested or needed a rest from their travels.
Having greeted the newcomer, the Caretaker turned and continued chiseling out the picture he had started previously - one of a cloaked man with raven-black wings standing in front of a strange mural. He was almost done...
 
As Grigog entered, he began a grunt in thanks, but stopped as his eyes quickly adjusted to the insides of the building. What greeted his sight were pictures upon pictures upon pictures. Grigog felt his breath deepen slightly. There were so many stories here!

"You are one busy being" Grigog stated outright. His free hand felt a wall's carvings. The smooth stone chiseled with such detailed images. Such handiwork. He was no dwarf, but even an orc could appreciate such beauty.

"I heard that I can find knowledge here. And judging by all the stories I see, it seems I heard correctly." Grigog's hand stopped over an image of two orcs on a mountainside, wrestling to the death, as fire and snow fell around them. Grigog wasn't sure if this was part of his tribe's history or some other tribe.

"But there must be a price, yes? Why else would you carve such things all day long?"
 
The Caretaker chuckled.
"There is no price for answers, my friend. Ask whatever you please. No knowledge is forbidden here. Not even the most terrible. "
It was true. The Caretaker would gladly give any piece of information - well, not any, some things that the Caretaker knew were best kept secret, but he knew that wouldn't be a problem, because the orc would never ask. The knowledge to ask the right questions was important, but some questions only result in the deepest parts of insanity. Most people didn't understand, who he was, why he was here, how he knew it all, and he enjoyed giving them the information they sought. Because - he chuckled at the truth of what he said - "Knowledge is power."
 
Grigog glared suspiciously at the being. "Nothing is free in my experience, especially power"

For a moment, Grigog studied the busy being. Something was curious about the thing. There was an air of energy around him. While the orc's senses for magic were still developing at best, with the exception of strong emotions, Grigog could sense something about this being. He knew better then to just blindly trust a being.

"Something easy then first. So I know you might be the real thing..." Grigog looked over another carving.

"eight days south of the Spine's lowest peak..." Grigog started, feeling the groove of a carving. "there are three standing stones. My teacher taught me two of their names. Ga'agog, the tricksy serpent, and Shi'alog, the fearful rat."

Grigog smiled as he looked at the Caretaker, as he asked his question. He knew the answer, so if the caretaker lied, he knew what kind of charlatan he was. But if he told the truth...

"What is the name of the third stone?"
 
The Caretaker chuckled.
"That's not how this works. If you already know it, then why are you asking me?"
The Caretaker smiled at the Orc over his shoulder as he chiseled the picture more.
"And you're quite right, no power comes without cost - this time, it's just not monetary. You know as well as I that sometimes the cost of power is something quite high." The Caretaker chuckled friendly.
 
Grigog again growled suspiciously. He didn't answer the question, nor did he change his doubt. Perhaps this being was used to people asking questions they already knew the answer. Or perhaps he knew more then he let on. He needed to know more before he revealed his own curiosity.

"I'm glad your mood is untarnished by my annoyance" Grigog started. "Fine then, a real question that I know you can answer since I don't know it yet. How do you know all of...this?" Grigog gestured to the walls around the two.

"And what do you get out of answering stranger's questions? Is it out of some weird amusement? If you know all the answers, then you know I don't easily trust."

There was no deception in the Orcs words. Ever since he was betrayed by his former teacher and exiled from his tribe, Grigog knew trust shouldn't be given freely. But he was also desperate. Revenge was a powerful motivation, but his would not forget the lessons he had already learned.

Besides, if the being answered these questions with something useful, perhaps Grigog wouldn't need to ask too many questions.
 
The Caretaker smiled.
"How do I know all of this?"
The Caretaker thought for a minute - trying to condense the answer that had jumped to his lips, as well as shade some of the more... madness - inducing parts.
"I know a Truth. A wonderful, terrible truth. Through this truth I have become..." The Caretaker's eyes held flashes of years untold in the Sanctuary, chiseling away at the walls, and a tiny bit of resentment creeped in there, too.
"What... I am now. I can't really explain how it works, and sometimes... I don't even know myself."
The Caretaker sighed, and continued onto his next question.
"What I get out of this? Nothing, really. I use my power to give others knowledge, and to answer the questions that they have for me. Most of the time, they already know the answer, they just need it told to them."
"I am no stranger to being tested, Urglralgra."
 
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"Urglralgra..." Grigog growled out in response, tasting the word on his lips for a moment.

"You aren't much help in providing knowledge yet if you ask me." the orc commented. He sighed in annoyance, but took a sharp breath in, controlling his emotions. This was not the time to let the spirit of the boar begin to ride him.

"But perhaps that is my fault for not asking the right questions" Grigog stated, sounding like he was trying to convince himself.

"Fine. Then here is a question that I want an honest answer to. Where can I go to develop my magic further? Where can I get the power for my vengeance?"

With each word of his final sentence, Grigog's voice became a deeper growl. Whether it was his annoyance with the being in this dead, stone place, or because the memories of his former mentor had been so traumatic, it was obvious what his feelings were.
 
The Caretaker stared at him for a minute, his smile fading a bit as his eyes slid out of focus for a second.
The Caretaker snapped back to reality, or whatever you want to call it, frowning.
"There are many answers to the question you have. Power comes in many, many, different forms," The Caretaker looked up, seemingly lost in memories, before coming back to the Earth once again. Or, again, whatever you want to call it. "Many places you can go," The Caretaker sighed, giving information, albeit reluctantly. "many, many, many collages are open to those such as you, with such talent... "
The Caretaker sighed, frowning. "But I must warn you... this revenge you're seeking? It will not bring the peace you desire."
 
Grigog growled at the caretaker's sighs. "Peace is a lie. The only way to achieve peace is to discard all of the inner spirits that ride you. As long as a spirit is able to ride you, you will never know peace. You will know restlessness. Or as you probably know the inner spirits, to lose all sense of emotion. And the only way to lose all emotions is to stop living. "

Grigog realized he was gripping a fist. He took a breath and calmed himself. The spirit of the boar would not control him.

"Now, these collages. What's one that that would gladly take on an orc. One that would understand an exiles plight and would want to help an outcast. Are they all made of stone and glass, or are less 'modern'?"
 
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