This content predates Rules V4.x and may not be relevant to the way the game world works now
Research Article
The information contained in this article is the result of research done by players from within the Game World. The contents are only as factual as the original author intended and should not be unduly modified.
These are the translated transcripts of the scrolls recovered from an unknown Elven ruin during a strange occurrence at the Consecration of the Dyar Tyric Guildhouse.
The validity of the scrolls cannot be confirmed due to the nature of their finding but their contents tally with the facts as we currently know.
Though it is never stated in these scrolls it is likely the writing of a single individual. This is most likely be the Smith Heldorian based on the content describing the forging of the nine blades of Incantation. The following translations are direct from the original script except where changes have been made to correct spelling or punctuation that was hard to ascertain from the original texts.
Heading are my own invention and the letters indicate nothing but the particular scroll they were taken from.
-Othgir Late-Spring 1109
A Day the Counil
Script B - A day at the council
I decided to visit the first session of the White Council today as it was the first since the death of the Queen. I was not surprised to see that Lords Larethian and Ineluki were absent, it has been so soon since the funeral, the son of Ineluki not in the place reserved for Clan Mistrivven, it is the first time I have seen Shaol Mistrivven in the flesh and he certainly lives up to his reputation.
Whilst he was dressed in simplest of dark robes you could almost see the awesome power at his fingertips, surely this is the greatest of firstborn. The session began in the usual way as various visitors made reports to the Council on many matters both
of great importance and triviality. Then the ambassadors of the other races made their petitions to the Council, I particularly enjoyed the one by the fey ambassador named Gwion who has taken the appearance of one of us.
Then after a short recess the leader of the council of mages, Lord Rulien, updated the Council on progress toward bringing about the hatching of Erdreja. I must state that I don not understand the single minded determination of the dragonborn and firstborn to hatch Erdreja rather than enjoy this world and leaving it to hatch in its own time. A report on the ritual circles was next, and times and places for drawing the excess energies in the network.
It would seem that the circles in the Illythiiri lands have the most excess energy at the moment, at this point I tired of the day’s official talk and decided to take a light lunch by the White-tree, I always feel rested and at peace in its shade.
The Birth of Incantation
Script C - The birth of Incantation
The whole of Morias is a abuzz with the news, after all these years Lord Larethian has returned to our fair city after his long years of self imposed exile. He was met on the road before the great gate by none other than his old friend Lord Ineluki Mistrivven. The two friends entered the city together to scenes of great joy from the crowds who had gathered to witness this great event. As they wandered through the streets toward the council hall they stopped to speak with all who crossed their paths and as the crowds increased began to smile and joke. They played up to the adoration of the crowd. Then to the surprise and delight of the crowds they were greeted at the steps of the council hall by all the other Dragonborn clan-leaders. Not since the funeral of Queen Lolthiriel have all the most ancient and powerful of our people gathered in council.
I ran through the streets of our fair city in a vain attempt to beat the crowds to the public galleries but it seemed that the whole of Morias was trying to gain entry to the council. As the crowds thronged, the Great-Lady-Explorer Skiasca Aryvadaar
urged that the meeting be moved to the park around the base of the Great-White-Tree. The other Lords and Ladies agreed and so for the first time in my life the whole of the city watched our leaders conduct the business of the Elvenlands.
The council began in the usual way. The petitions of the people were heard and judgements and settlements decided. The ambassadors of the other races addressed the council, pressed their grievances and offers and each of these were deliberated and
answered. I must confess that I have grown quite fond of that wily old fey Gwion who always seems to get his way with the council. After a short recess for refreshments the leader of the Mages’ Council stepped forward to make his report. Many expected as short and dry report on the state of the world and the circle network as usual. However Rulien Silvanest had another agenda. Instead of his usual report he began a withering attack on all Elves that persisted with observing the reverie. Apart from his voice the council were deadly still and quiet. Everyone knew of his criticism of the reverie, but to voice in council was another matter, suddenly without warning Lord Ineluki flew from his seat and headed toward Rulien.
The whole crowd suddenly felt the power and anger of the Golden-One, not since Lolthiriel herself had sat in the council had such power been felt. Lady Eilistraee and Lord Selvetarm interrupted their older brother and somehow calmed him enough to
retake his seat, the park was quiet. Everyone expected Rulien to leave or move onto the matter he was supposed to report, he did neither. As soon as Lord Ineluki had retaken his seat he resumed his assault and then in the charged atmosphere he insulted Lolthiriel. In a flash Lord Larethian drew his blade and bore down on Lord Rulien, calling out to his dead wife he swung the blade in a high arc at Lord Rulien. The Lord threw himself to one side and the blade barely made contact with him but a terrible mortal wound appeared upon his body. The mage’s armour and his robes seemed to offer no protection against this raw power.
The crowd started to murmur and break up, the council itself fell into recriminations whilst the Sylvanii Clan Leader went to the aid of Rulien. Lord Ineluki was being physically restrained by the Illythiir members and my Lord Larethian simply walked away. As I joined the crowds and began to walk home I saw the fear in the eyes of those about me. Blood had been spilled by Elf against Elf in the most sacred place of all Morias by a power no-one had seen before. That was the first night I locked my door.
The Forging of the Swords
Script A - The forging of the swords
Today has been a day of surprise. I believe myself to be a simple smith of limited skill when suddenly Shaol Mistrivven comes to my workshop proclaiming me to be a master smith worthy of his notice. He has even request I craft a set of blades to be used as badges of office with which he intends on gift the leaders and elves of importance within his new colleges. I explained that I do not craft weapons of war, these will be gifts of art and power, not tools of destruction. He has agreed and has given me freedom to name and enchant them as I see fit as a master smith.
I have begun considering ideas for the blades. Shaol wished me to create three swords for each of his colleges. He has told me of each of the colleges, each has a special role to fulfil and I think I will gift the blades with an enchantment that will enhance the ability of those that carry them within their college.
The first blade I have almost finished, I have named it Tigilya after my youngest daughter. It is the blade to be carried by master Librarian of the college of stars.
Shaol told me the college is to function as a place of learning, developing an understanding of the creation and uses of the spell casting dubbed incantation. When it’s finished its bearer will be sustained by the blades power, allowing them to survive on the lightest of life’s essentials, something I feel librarians might find useful when the great deal of work that he has before him, especially now.
I have decided to name all three of the blades for the college of stars after my daughters. First was Tigilya I have now finished the work on Tintalle and Tingilinde I simply have to seal the final enchantments which I will complete before the night is through.
Tintalle is crafted for the provost of the guild, its enchantment will allow the provost to determine the truth of others words, enhancing their empathy towards those he tasked with protecting. Tingilinde was the last blade I have worked upon of these three and no finer blade I have ever forged. As the blade of office for the college of stars I have given it the unique ability to experience the powers of the other blades which also gifting its carrier with the knowledge of those around him. A centre of knowledge and learning for the head of a centre of learning.
I have finished working on the blades Tigilya, Tintalle and Tingilinde, may they allow their owners to show the same inquisitive nature of their blades name sake. Blades based upon the stars an endless ocean of possibilities and enlightenment. The college of the moon I am unsure how to progress with these blades. From the conversation I had with Shaol he wishes the college to be the military arm, a force of priests willing to strike first and kill in the name of ancestors defence through offence. I told Shaol I wouldn’t create death bound in a beautiful form and I do not mean to go back on my word. Their power will be bound to the person only while the blades are worn as they were intended, symbols of office and each will hold a terrible price if wielded in any form other than defence.
The first blades of the moon I have forged are Isileme and Isilya named after my brothers. Both are dark and brooding, unable to accept the change in the world which has now begun but hopefully the blades that share their names will be held as a symbol of change and that our peoples are moving forward instead of loitering in the past.
Isilme is the blade of the college master and as such will gift its bearer the greatest abilities born of a leader of war, the knowledge of the greatest generals and an ability to foresee the strands of fate as they weave before him in the field of battle. If the blade is drawn in against his foe however the blade will show him nothing but his own death, lingering and bloody as he bears witness to the defeat of his armies.
Isilya is the blade of the marshal the master of arms and so will focus the powers and abilities of its carrier to the limits of a mortal body making his the most terrifying of adversaries. However, should the blade be wielded itself then he will find his skills weaken and his defences lacking when his opponents blade sings the tale of death.
As I named the first two blades after my brothers for their darker nature I name the last Isilesse after my sister whose nature matches the blade which will stand a single beacon of light in a canvas of darkness. The blade has been created for the provost of the college and is a college of warriors what better weapon than one, which will provide you with the greatest defense? The bearer will become immune to the blows while he bears no anger in his pattern. If however the blade is drawn in anger it will be his undoing for the slightest out will pierce a heart of anger. And so I sit with six blades before me three of the moon and three of the stars and I have but three more to create, blades for a college of the sun resplendent.
The college of the sun, dedicated to defence of the temples and the people that have devoted their lives to the goals of the colleges. I have begun the crafting of the first blade, the blade of the chancellor which I shall call Anarya after my mother. Anarya will bestow a blessing of tutelage upon the bearer allowing them to teach their abilities and skills upon their followers.
Anarya is finished the final seals holding its enchantments in place. I have decided I shall name the blade of the master of the college of the sun Anarion after my father. It will be a blade of resplendent glory, its mere point will act as a banner on the field, a rally point, a symbol of victory in the sea of uncertainty that war brings. Let those that will raise this blade in defence of the land of elves know no fear or defeat.
As I look at the eight blades I have crafted and the body of the ninth yet to be enchanted I will dedicate this blade to my wife. It shall be called Anardil and will be the simplest of all. The blades bearer will be like her, becoming a pool of tranquillity in the chaos of life. The blades enchantment will shield Anardiis Kiipir turning aside weapons wielded against them, allowing them to bring aid to those that require it.
My work is done. The final enchantments cooling upon the blades and sealed to last until the world around them dies. As I look upon my work I once again ask myself if they are fit to bear the names of my family. I see the tiniest flaws that always permeate my work and sit now considering the alterations I could make to the blades in the attempt to achieve the perfection that has so far eluded me. However I know that to my eye my work will never be perfect.
Shaol came to my forge today and collected the blades of the colleges. He was very happy with the work I had done and would not hear of my personal grievances at the flaws I saw so plainly within my work. He commended me for what he called masterpieces of art and told me he owes me a debt of gratitude.
A Meeting with Eilistraee
Script E - A meeting with Eilistraee
The most amazing event in my life occurred this evening. There I was sitting in the cool shade of the Great White-Tree when I heard a beautiful femal voice asking if she could join me. AS I began to answer and turned to look upon the owner of such a voice, my voice dried in my throat as it was none other than the Lady Eilistraee Camcarneyar seating herself comfortably beside me. I began to rise, I think I mumbled something about returning home but then she placed her hand upon mine and gently guided back to my seat.
For a while I just sat and watched the birds circling the Great White-Tree, then as evening gave way to night she spoke, she knew who I was and asked after the health of my wife and children. She complimented me on the fine blades I had crafted for her nephew Lord Shaol and his fledgling Incantor Colleges.
Yet whilst the conversation remained light and full of good humour I could not fail to notice a melancholy aura about her. Eventually I mustered the courage to ask about the fierce arguments that had rocked the Council since Lord Larethian had struck down the High Mage Rulien. At first she tried to explain the differing opinions on the reverie and the discovery that Lolthiriel still existed as a new and vibrant being, I struggled to understand the deep concepts she tried to explain to me and then after a short pause she let out a long sigh and said:
“That damned fool Rulien just will not rest, he fills every Council meeting with his endless rants and arguments. He has neither tolerance nor understanding of the reverie or of anything that is not magecraft. He pushes and provokes my brother at every tun and only the Lady Kadriel has stayed my brother’s hand so far. If Rulien does not desist he will be the death of us all.”
With that she stood and turned towards the White-Tree and spoke softly. It was mot for me to hear, yet I heard the simple words:
“Farewell fair Morias and my beloved White-Tree, I do not think I will see thee again, for an ill wind approaches and I fear the storm ahead.”
With that she turned and left and somehow the night seemed a little darker.
A Time of War
Script D - A time of war
It’s war, I can’t believe it has come to this. The scouts arrived midday in the city to confirm that the whole of the Illythiiri and Miyeritari have marched to war against us. The news from the scouts says the Sylvan town of Almrahel is besieged and will soon fall. Most of the people in the street are numb with shock, no one believed that the elves could possibly go to war with each other.
As I shared an afternoon meal with my friends we discussed the day’s events. The council is in uproar, Larethian has not attended since his wounding of Rulien all those years ago and the Lythari clans will do nothing without his word. The Sylvanii are trying to stir the Aquillari and Vermillii to action, but two of the Aquillarii clans have joined the Illythiiri.
The only resolution the council came up with was to send a diplomatic mission to Lord Ineluki and the other Illythiiri clan leaders. Some elven lords approached me today to commission arms and armour, but the thought of my creations being used to
slay kin is anathema to me. I have refused all offers for the accoutrements of war. I study now the statue before me commissioned by Lady Tallia Aryvandaar, Shaol’s wife. A silver likeness of the golden Queen. I wonder if it will ever be delivered to the colleges it was crafted for.
These musings have brought my thoughts to the colleges. The news says that the colleges are part of Ineluki’s forces, I cannot say that surprises me particularly after the way Rulien has tried to stop their creation at every turn. Interesting how my thoughts keep coming back to Rulien, he does seem to be the main instigator of this disaster about to envelop us all. I wonder why he hates the Incantors and Lolthiriel so much.
