Caligos Isle/storyline 2017
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THE MIST KNOWS!
Turbulent waters have surged upon the shores of Elanthia, bringing with them fragments from a faraway place. The seed has been planted. Beware that which you cannot see...
He is coming.
A wicked sentience disturbs the high seas -- an evil lurks in its darkest depths. An ancient terror has been exhumed from its resting place beneath the Abandoned Waters, and has made its way to the shores of Elanthia.
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Pre-Storyline
A Little Ditty
Tilting his wooden boat back and forth as if the vessel was being gently wooed by sea waves, the youthful dwarven lad sings, "The sea, the sea, my home will be the sea! I'll be rich, I'll be famous on the sea, you will see!" He pokes and prods at his little toy, completely unaware of the goings on around him.
Dangling an ebonwood fishing pole over the edge of a small dinghy, a young dwarven man jerks his fishing pole back, a large catfish flopping on the end of a mithril fish hook. He pats his hand on the side of his small boat, and an uncanny gleam twinkles in the dwarf's eyes as he sings, "The sea, the sea, my home will be the sea! I'll be rich, I'll be famous on the sea, you will see!"
Rubbing a sheet of sandpaper back and forth vigorously, the middle-aged dwarven man smooths a long slat of exquisite teak. He runs his hand lovingly across the silky surface. In a mature voice with a mild vibrato, he sings, "The sea, the sea, my home will be the sea! I'll be rich, I'll be famous on the sea, you will see!"
Rough waters with white-capped waves and large swells dwarf the large vessel as they churn. Old enough to have seen a few fish in his day, a dwarven man stands at the ship's helm, a wide grin across his face. He scans the horizon beyond the vast sea as the sun sets. "What is that?" he asks a crew member. Fellow sailors flock to the edge of the boat and scrutinize the odd shape emerging from mist-filled dark waters. "Is that what I think it is?" the dwarf asks. A fellow sailor pipes up, hesitation in his voice, "I think it might be, Captain. We should proceed with caution."
The dwarf sings to himself, ever so quietly, the familiar words of a song he's been singing since he was a child... [1]
...That Turned Into a Tale...
Pulling his eyes from the pier behind him, the Captain looked to the open waters and watched as the mists slipped past. Moonlight, stars, and the occasional cry from the crow's nest were soon his companions on the three-masted vessel. He couldn't help looking back, his eyes always finding the receding island. It was always just there, just at the edge of his vision. Soon, he knew, it would fade from even his keen eyesight. But it would be there when he returned, it would be waiting.
Drumming his fingers upon the brass railing that encircled this section of the deck, he listened as one of the nightshifts began to whistle one of his favorite sea shanties. A smile rippled through his manicured, red beard, and parting his lips, he answered the tune.
Over cloud, Borthuum sailed west,
West, Lad-ees, westward, ho!
Leave the winter, in heat we are best.
Westward, lad-ees, west we go!
Borthuum, you jackjaw, you sparrow, you lark.
Ease up, Lad-ees, ease up land lo!
Pull on the trowels, the land has a spark.
Ease up, Lad-ees, landward we go!
Tend the yardarms, keep the ropes in tow.
Mind the lines, Lad-ees, heave ho!
Ash in the air, there's a volcano below.
Heave, lad-ees, heave downward ho!
Borthum, you jackjaw, it's storms near and far!
Lash away, Lad-ees, lash and stow!
Refit her with purpose, that ole Glaesen star!
Sail away Lad-ees, now seaward go!
Opening Night
To the fine crew of the Damsel of the Deep
[East Feywrot, Deep Water Dock] A hearty cry from the Captain has a deckhand scrambling to open the chain at the base of the gangplank, allowing guests to begin the boarding process. "Welcome, Friends!" calls out Junderthal in his most jovial voice. "Proceed up the gangplank, and welcome aboard the Damsel of the Deep, the finest sailing vessel ever to embark upon the open waters! Let us leave this dismal swamp and journey to the greatest isle you'll ever set eyes upon! We will be setting sail in fifteen minutes!" Junderthal barks a sharp order in the dwarven tongue, and a short and stout, scraggly bearded seaman climbs the main ratlines to unlash the main boom and drop the mainsail. The First Mate takes her position at the ship's wheel as the Captain rallies the crew into action with rapid fire commands. "Set the mizzen topsail, lads, and be quick about it!" "Heave smart on that halyard, lass. Put some muscle into it!" In quick succession, the lowered canvases fill with the cool night breeze and begin to strain against the taut lines of the rigging. Prepare to get underway, lads!" barks the Captain triumphantly. Like well-oiled gears in a gnomish contraption, the deckhands batten down all the hatches, stow the loose gear, pull in the lines tethering the fine vessel to the dock, and slowly raise the gangplank. Junderthal does a kip to the side and struts about with a jubilant step as the vessel slips sideways, pulling slowly away from the dock, bound for open water. [Damsel of the Deep, Main Deck] As the Damsel of the Deep navigates the river channel with ease, you see the dock slip farther from view. The pungency of swamp gas is replaced with fresh river breezes, sweet and cool, with just a tang of salt. The river to port boasts the twinkling lights of ships upon the choppy waters, while to starboard, the dark outline of the devastated grounds of Feywrot Mire grows fainter in the distance till it disappears from sight with the rounding of a wide bend in the river. Keeping the shoreline in sight, the First Mate navigates the tumultuous surf of the coastal waters. Heading northeast, The Damsel sails quietly past the historic site of Ta'Nalfein off the port bow. With the sails trimmed and the vessel slowed, she slips carefully through a narrow, treacherous channel as a dotted island chain, the ancient ruins of old Ta'Ashrim, rise ominously off the starboard side. Reaching open water at last, the choppy surface of the coastline transforms into white-capped waves, tall swells, and deep troughs. The powerful winds of the sea fill the canvases propelling The Damsel forward with greater speed towards her mysterious destination. Lights from the distant landforms wink out of view one by one till naught remains but white pinpoints of starlight scattered across the inky blackness of the night sky. Pale grey dolphins, moonlight glistening off their smooth, rounded heads and upright dorsal fins, leap alongside the vessel. Pulling ahead, as if to show off their speed, they crisscross the bow and one another in flashy, acrobatic arcs. They mimic the vessel's every movement, granting her a fanciful, playful escort across the open waters." The heavy canvas of the sails luffs ever so slightly with every course correction and refills with air soon after. Straining against the taut lines, the heavy fabric reshapes, billowing and rounded, carrying the well-trimmed vessel forward with deliberate speed. Brilliantly twinkling white stars dot the inky blackness of the clear night sky. To the north, the constellation known as The Trident dominates the autumn sky. Bearing three star points for its tines, one for the base, and two for the handle, the illuminated symbol of Charl has been known to guide sailors to safety, as well as to their demise. With nary a cloud in sight, the silvery white moon of Liabo shines a beacon of light across the nightsky, illuminating the crest of each frothy wave as it passes by on its journey to the nearest shore. A glass-like finish descends upon thecaps and waves. The winds cease their relentless howling, and a sudden hush settles heavily upon both the water and the air. The sails luff quietly as the lines go slack. An eerie silence pervades the vessel as it falls into the grasp of the doldrums, with nary a ripple upon the sea, nor a flutter of nighttime breezes. The rigging hangs lifelessly from the three masts, and even the deckhands halt their work to stare out at the glaesine sea. Through the pervasive silence, the Captain's voice rings out across the deck, "No ye don't, you bugger. You'll not be stopping us here!" Shaking his fist vehemently at the three-tined constellation in the northern sky, he continues his tirade. "We'll reach our shore if I have to toss these fine folks over to swim the rest of the way!" Breaking the calm, bestilled surroundings, a silvery grey fog starts to form overhead. It churns quietly, not over the sea at large, but directly above and centered upon the vessel, pinned helplessly at a standstill within the motionless sea. Tiny motes of silver light flash within the grey, cloudy covering as it descends to the deck, settling like a newly arrived guest upon the teak-planked decking of the Damsel of the Deep. Gusts of chilled wind begin to swirl, emanating from within the amassed circle of fog. The canvas sails begin to flap wildly, lines pulled taut as the sails fill once again with winds enough to propel the vessel forward. Though unseen in the gathered fog, the Captain shouts out orders that ring loud and clear across the vessel's decking. Crew members race to trim the sails and tie off the lines and halyards from each of the vessels three masts. With a mighty shudder of timber and an unsettling shimmy of the hull, the Damsel of the Deep once again lurches forward, propelled by the frigid and powerful winds exiting the tumultuous, swirling bank of fog. Spontaneous cheering erupts from some of the crew and passengers alike as the surface of the sea races past, and the vessel's prow slices with fury through the oncoming waves. Waves race by at incredible speed as the vessel pushes forward toward her destination. The temperature drops, bringing an unsettling chill to the nighttime air. Stars overhead guide the sturdy vessel on her journey, though they can be glimpsed only intermittently with the thick, silvery grey fog that mimics the vessel's every turn and course correction. After racing across the waves, the vessel feels as though it is slowing, though with no visible landmarks, speed and distance are distorted. Cocooned in a heavy overcoat of grey fog, time seems to pass more slowly, making it hard to discern if the voyage has taken minutes, or hours, or days. At last, the blurry, hazy blanket choking off your vision begins to lighten, and silver motes of light within the fog rise slowly from the decking, journeying upward toward the heavens till they blink out of sight. As the fog lifts, the moon appears brightly overhead. The glimmering path of light it lavishes upon the surface of the waves seems to be guiding the vessel through the darkened waters. The chill in the air subsides, replaced by cool, nighttime breezes bringing the tang of salty air wafting across the decking. Whales breaching beside the vessel send a cold, salty spray into the night air. It drifts across the decking, assaulting passengers and crew alike with a fine and frigid mist. Shapes begin to appear far off against the horizon. Jagged black peaks, wreathed in darkness, rise as monotonal silhouettes against the distant waterline. The voice of the Captain rings out across the vessel's main deck. "Land Ho! Land Ho! Look alive, ye scallywags! We be coming home!" The pale grey dolphins arcing and leaping alongside the bow suddenly peel off toward the open waters, leaving the vessel without escort into the approaching port. Tiny lights become visible on the horizon, blinking and winking a greeting from a long, water pier sliding slowly into view. Dark and jagged rocks rise steeply from behind the pier, and an outline of a mountainous island looms in the distance. Slithering silently from between the teak-planked decking, wispy tendrils of a deep indigo mist begin to rise. Curling around your ankles, they seem to be seeking something. They brush lightly across you in indigo circles before seeking another nearby. Lanterns sway frantically in the night-whipped winds as the vessel pulls ever closer to the elongated pier. Few lights illuminate the island's peaks, with naught but harsh angles, steep cliffs, and darkened rock faces visible from this vantage point. A distinctly sulfuric odor is intermingled with the salty night air. The mist arising from the floorboards grows thicker and more persistent. It settles heavily upon the decking, forming an indigo haze that swirls and shifts and twines itself around" and across exposed ankles. The Captain strides purposefully across the deck, seemingly unaware of the swirling mists grasping at his legs. Barking orders at the crew, hustling now to trim the sails and pull in the lines, he has a jaunty spring in his step as the crewmen slide the vessel gently into its berth along the wind-whipped pier. [3]</section end=log />
Synopsis of Storyline & Quest Results
Captain Rinnok Junderthal has made his preparations on the island - all the merchants are set up, all the games are out, all the decorations are in place. Therefore, he travels back to the mainland to find an eager group of merrymakers to enjoy all the best Caligos Isle has to offer. He can practically see the stacks of silver piling up around him.
Junderthal heard of the demise of Feywrot Mire -- all the merchants now without shops, adventurers without a place to visit and celebrate, all the lost revenue... he decides to make the most of an unfortunate situation and returns to the coast at the edge of Feywrot.
Once in port, he makes his announcements and gathers a crowd, hawking the marvels to be found on the distant island. A land is unseen! Treasures undiscovered! History lost to time and the sea! There's something for everyone. The boarding passes sell out in short order.
During the trip to the island, passengers might notice that the coarse, but generally amiable captain seems a little restless. Perhaps he is simply eager to return to his beloved isle. The voyage is without interruption, though some passengers probably notice bands of discoloration around the captain's wrists; they're indistinct, like old, harshly treated tattoos. It's certainly just a trick of the eye that makes them seem to slither to and fro occasionally. After 30 minutes of southerly travel, the boat slips through a misty shroud and comes out on the other side of Caligos Isle.
After arrival on the island, Junderthal is able to create a portal back to the mainland -- the following evening, and every year thereafter, he offers to take players on a tour of the island. Though on the face, the island is certainly foreboding, with a scarred and grey countenance, the festivities are a welcome distraction. It is only after being there a while that festival-goers begin to hear the voices. Quiet whispers haunt the fog that shrouds the island, and figures seem to dwell trapped within its depths.
Amid the shoppers and merrymakers, talk begins to circulate of wondrous good fortunes. Those that came to the island as mere wishes in the minds and hearts of the festivalgoers are suddenly blossoming into fruition around them. It is inexplicable. The sudden turn of fortunes only inflames those latent desires, and wishes grow deeper and grander as the festival goes on.
Meanwhile, the voices within the fog beckon to all those the mist touches, bidding them to various tasks here and there on the isle. The festivalgoers find the landscape stark and mysterious. Decrepit buildings are but waterlogged facades of what once must have been a burgeoning settlement of shops and taverns, inns, and houses. Proof of the former inhabitants are found scattered everywhere, undoubtedly cast far afield by the tempestuous nature of the sea. Precious items and keepsakes are abandoned inside the buildings, pieces of the past, of memories, caught out of time.
As every foot of the island is explored, it becomes apparent that the slip of land is more than it seems. The iconology discovered seems to suggest that its former inhabitants worshipped a deity previously unknown to world scholars - a deity designated by dual concentric rings of eels joined head to tail. The name Ghezresh surfaces among the ruins, though exactly who or what remains uncertain. Throughout the festival, those in attendance have carried out the seemingly benign requests of the spirits, hoping to satiate their needs, to end their sorrow. But, just as the festival is drawing to a close, it becomes apparent that those deeds have consequences and not the sort that was intended.
One of these tasks was to collect the strange materials found on the island. Some bricks, some tiles, beams, and posts, are all brought to where the spirits wish… At the very top. It is only as the festival is bound to close that a transformation takes place at the peak, transforming all the brick-a-brac into a temple to this new deity. And as the Ezreshi, a priestess with a title previously unheard of casts her first blessing in the temple, the sound of a tomb being opened echoes across the land.
The spirits of the island are left to their purgatory once again as the ship of festival-goers departs its shores, but perhaps a little something of specters has escaped. Seeping into their skin while they laughed and shopped, explored and whiled away the days with wishing, the travelers have taken a little of Caligos Isle home.
Loresongs of Caligos
- The Tree
Discovered the 1st year of Caligos, the tree is located on the second level of the island near the pawnshop. Verse 1 Your vision fills with stratus clouds as they swirl past you, the wisps thinning, and you wake from a deep slumber. You feel the comfort of your skin, your true real home, around you and, just as you decide to return to slumber, you feel a sickening coldness lance into you. The sense of falling overtakes you, and you hear the cry of a bird somewhere above you. That must be how you ended up in the sky, some avian adventure, but it is short lived and your vision abruptly returns to normal. Verse 2 You sing to the tree and you are filled with the strangest sensations. The sun above is warm, the land damp, and rich with minerals from nearby volcanic flows. Wind sends you tumbling helplessly across the land and you slip into a crack, but you decide that it is time to wake from your slumber and shed your skin. Stretching your fingers into the deep, dark ground, you seek out nutrients, and then you begin to grow. Slowly, your vision unfurls to reveal an island wreathed in mist, but then it fades away. Verse 3 Indigo and silver mist trickle across your vision, and from somewhere far off you hear children playing. It seems to have been years since you landed upon this island and you have watched it change from volcanic rock and debris, to a landscape filled with homes and families. The mists no longer bother you, your leaves reflect their color, and you are at peace here. Thunder and the sound of rising waves suddenly blot out the sun, and as your vision fades, the laughter of children turns to cries of fear. Verse 4 Coldness greets you, and your vision is filled with a murky darkness that seems to be your new norm. Hints of sunlight play through the water, but they are far from you, and you feel yourself slowly starving. You miss the laughter of the children as they played around you, dancing in your leaves as they fell, and still mourn at the memory of their strangled, gurgling deaths. Kelp is your friend now, but it does not frolic so much as strangle and choke. Slowly, your vision fades away. Default Plunging in and out of darkness, you feel the world around you transform and water begins to sluff off of you in torrents. The air feels different, colder than you remembered, and your trunk feels strangled by the kelp that has come to the surface with you. Fish riddle the ground, their gills flaring as they struggle to breathe and their bodies twisting in odd arcs as they gasp out their last. Your return to the land and sky seems ill fated, but at least the sun is here, and it warms your fading vision. [4]
- The Lintel
Found during the first year, the lintel above the bank had a loresong. Verse 1 As you sing to the lintel, your vision begins to shift and swirl until it resolves into a vibrant green forest. The sound of crashing comes from somewhere far off, and you watch as brush all around you shakes and quivers. A pair of figures plunge through the foliage and stand over a fallen alder tree, its trunk easily three men around in girth. One of them points, a look of pride stretched across his features, and says something to the other. You try to make out the words, but the vision fades away. Verse 2 The harsh sound of sawing fills your ears as you sing to the lintel, and slowly, your vision dissolves into a workroom where the large alder tree is being stripped of its bark. Time seems to move rapidly through the area as figures shift in and out of the scene, all the while, the alder trunk is being reshaped and changed by elven hands until it finally forms a smooth keel. Ribs are attached to it, planks and iron, too. As your vision fades, you see a fully formed caravel sitting in the workspace. Verse 3 Your tune of inquiry triggers a response in the lintel causing rain to slant across your vision. Dozens of elves lay upon the deck of a caravel, their bodies withered and their children's stomachs distended with hunger. They cry out for salvation and as they do, an indigo and silver mist guides them to a small island. As they clamor over the sides of the vessel into the spongy soft sands, a wave smashes mercilessly into the vessel causing it to shatter upon the beach. The vision fades away. Verse 4 Your song of inquiry touches upon the lintel, and the sound of the ocean lapping at a shore comes to your ears. Slowly, the image of a beach appears before you, and you see scattered timber rocking back and forth in the waves. A young elf runs up to a large piece that looks to be an alder keel, and yells over his shoulder to an elven man. You recognize this man from your previous visions, though he is older now. Grinning, he calls others to help him move the keel. Slowly, the image fades. Default Time slips across your vision as the lintel shares its final tale with you. You see a keel lifted from a beach, carried to a building carved of stone, and fitted as a lintel. It sits there through a season, maybe two, and you watch the passage of time in wonder. Something disrupts its tranquility, and it is dislodged from its resting place only to be plunged into the ocean. Ages pass as it begins to rot, becoming a home to barnacles, until $O1T rises to the surface once more. [5]
- The Carcus
This carcase was found in one of the rooms of the Walrus and the Carpenter. First stanza: Silver light floods your vision as the querying notes of your song touch upon the carcass, and all around you the world transforms to an aquatic scene of the ocean floor. You find yourself swimming through the cool waters, sunlight falling in long lines through the gently rollicking waters above, and you are filled with a deep joy to be in your home. Schools of fish dart past, and you pursue them with abandon. Slowly, your vision returns to normal. Silvery blue light plays across Thandiwe's face as her sings to the carcass. Second stanza: Your vision swims with azure and silver light, and ribbons of glistening water pass you at high speeds. A large presence at your side, a packmate or perhaps your mother, nudges you away from a darkness near the bottom of the sea and you push yourself to the surface. Blessed, clean air filters through the blow hole in your head, your lungs flooding with the great breath you've inhaled. Around you, others break the surface, too, and you revel in the presence of your pack. Slowly, the vision fades. Azure and silver light dance within the reflection of Thandiwe's pupils and for a moment, she seems as if she is holding her breath, but the moment passes and she draws in a great breath of air. Third stanza: Darkness descends upon your vision as you sing to the carcass, the world around you fading. You begin to investigate a sparkling light and, feeling suddenly alone, glance about with worry for your pack mates. A pair of eels swims to your side, and whispers to you that there is nothing to fear. They speak to you of salvation, of promise, and of becoming more. Comforted by their words, you drift deeper into the shadows, and a darker presence looms over you. Your vision darkens as you begin to suffocate. Shadows dance across the planes of Thandiwe's face as she sings to a half-desiccated carcass. Fourth stanza: Indigo mist and darkness trickle across your vision, their presence unwelcoming and unkind. Though you know that long ago your body died, you feel connected to the rough ground that your body is bound to. Seaweed has begun to grow through your lifeless body, barnacles begin to use you as dinner, and the eels have returned. They dance around you, taunting and unkind. You feel the dark presence, and it offers you a promise of the sun, but only if you submit. Your vision returns to normal. Shadows dance across the plains of Thandiwe's face as she sings to a half-desiccated carcass. Default stanza: Water slips across your vision, the darkness slowly lightening and the sun returning it. You feel as if you have lifted, somehow, from your water grave, and yet, still seem to be deeply embedded upon the seafloor. The water flows away, and the warm sun bakes your desiccated body. You are his now, on his island, used for his design. One day you will find salvation, but trapped in your body, you do not feel that it will be today. Slowly, with much effort, you pull your vision back to the natural world. [6] As your song touches upon the trident, your vision clouds and the bright blue of the sky at sea spreads before you. Dozens of families stand clustered in small groups upon the deck of a ship, and beyond them in the open sea are two similar vessels. Their voices are muted as they speak in quiet tones of mingled excitement and trepidation. “Jorgethin is right,” you hear a man say, echoes of agreement rising around him. “The politics are too much. It is time we make our own way.” Slowly, the vision fades. Tenebrous and ethereal, the lore of the trident unfolds before you. Night has fallen upon the ship, and slumber touches upon the elven souls that ride at sea. Lanterns illuminate the faces of those that stand at watch, concern etched in their countenances. “We need to find land soon,” a whispered voice says. “We are trying,” counters another with resignation. “If only this blasted mist would let us see land,” says the first. Slowly, an indigo light obscures your vision. Skeins of indigo and silver mist trickle across your vision as your voice reaches out towards the trident in song. Wane and sickly, the families lie in weary clusters of exhaustion and concern. Small ones rest in the laps of their elders, their faces sallow and their stomachs distended. Whispers rise amid them, curses to Charl and Niima for abandoning those that have been faithful. As the curses and denouncements take root, the mist eases and a cry from above heralds, “Land ho!” Slowly, the vision fades. As your querying song touches upon the trident, your vision is filled with the sight of dozens of elven families carrying all that they possess upon a black sand beach and away from three vessels. Indigo and silver mist follows them, the ethereal element touching each and every person in turn. As the last crate is pulled from the vessel, and the last elven foot touches the island’s sandy shore, a wave swathed in shadows crashes into the ships and scatters their timbers upon the shores. The vision slips away… As you sing to the trident, your vision is filled with dozens of faces as they turn towards the shoreline, debris littering its dark sands. Indigo eels with silver eyes swim at the water’s edges, collecting and pushing the broken bits of wood towards the shore, and as they do, a voice fills your ears. “My children,” it says. “Come to me. I am your Salvation and will save you from the Curse of Charl, the Lies of Niima. Lay aside your weapons and know peace on Caligos.” The vision slips away... [7] Verse One: Joining the threads of your song, the case yields to your song of inquiry and shares its song. Swirling grey mistsslip across your vision, and you find yourself sitting upon a deck that is wrapped in a miasma of fog and soaking rains. You hug the case to your chest with one hand, while the other brushes damp tresses from your brow, and you feel a frown tug at the corners of your lip. A woman comes into your view. “You’ll need to put her up, minstrel,” she says, a tinge of regret in her voice. “We’ll need even the soft hands if we are to come out of this.” As she moves away, your vision begins to return to normal. Verse Two: As your song touches upon the case, you immediately feel it being changed from one of inquiry into the rhythmic drone of a working song. "The mist is rising, and the tides be low, Heave away, Sally, heave her just so. They be waiting so patient on the Captain's behalf, Heave away, Sally, heave off ye gaff." The song continues on, but a familiar voice at your ear says, “That a boy, I’ll make a sailor of you yet.” Slowly, the rhythm of the song fades around you. Verse Three: Moonlight slants across your vision as you gaze at the case, and momentarily blinds you. When your vision clears you find yourself on the familiar deck of a ship that is gently gliding through the waves. The bright silver of a full moon is reflected on the water, and the soft glow of lanterns strung across the deck gives the vessel an almost ethereal cast. Moving towards you is the female sailor from previous visions, and her lips are quirked in a half grin as she watches you stifle a yawn. “Don’t worry,” she says in a teasing voice. “You’ll get to sleep in on the morn, but first you must survive the night shift.” Laughing, she dances away from you, and the moonlight reflects in a dazzling array off her silver-blonde hair and briefly blinds you once more.Naamit’s eyes sparkle with silver light as she sings to the case. Verse Four: As your song touches upon the case, you hear the soft laughter of a familiar voice at your ear. Her words are difficult to understand, but their meaning is clear in the teasing tone of her voice. You find yourself replying, your laughter falling from your lips in a rich tenor. Slowly, the sound recedes, but not before you hear yourself saying, “I think I love you.” Verse Five: Your voice touches an oiled aquamarine case, and almost instantly, your tongue dries up in your mouth, and sweat moistens your brow. Your vision blurs and then settles upon the now familiar deck, but this time it is incredibly crowded as if every sailor is present. Faces are drawn and tight as you move through the crowd, and you quickly find your way to the side of the conversant female sailor. She turns to you, her features slack and tears standing out in her eyes. “What is it?” you find yourself asking. “Our home,” she says to you as she throws her arms around your neck. Continuing into your shoulder, you can hear her say through her sobs, “The House of Faendryl has destroyed our home. We are lost.” Your heart clenches in your chest, but you whisper reassuringly to her, “As long as you are with me, you are home.” Slowly, the vision fades away. Verse Six: Your song reaches out to the case, and a sense of deep weariness fills you. Once again, you find yourself upon the decks of a vessel that is heavily obscured by waves of fog and mist. You cradle the case close to your body as a voice above cries out, “Brace for land!” Silver mist falls upon you like a wet, heavy blanket, and you lurch as the sound wood being split asunder fills the air. The woman from before comes running towards you and pulls you to your feet, practically draggin you from the deck of the boat. You hurtle over the rails behind her and plunge into the cold sea. Darkness briefly eclipses your vision. Verse Seven: You reach out with an inquiring tune to the case, it latches onto you like a drowning man. The song of the case pulls you down until your vision grows dark, and you feel like your lungs might explode from lack of air. Just as sunspots begin to fill your vision, the air rushes back in, and you find yourself crawling across the jagged stones of a desolate beach. Debris litters the ground around you, and you feel a brief return of the panic as you look at the woman you love, who is curled upon her side further up the beach. Struggling for breath, you somehow manage to make your way to her side and gently brush the hair from her face. Her breath spills from her lips, and you find yourself humbled by the flood of emotions that pour through you. Lowering your head, you offer a silent prayer of thanks to Niima. The woman rolls over, and cradled to her chest is an oiled aquamarine case. Your vision slowly fades. Verse Eight: Soft is the song that rises to you from the case as you sing your tune of inquiry to it. Gone is the beach, the sea, and the ship. Each is replaced with forests, silvery mists, and the shape of a house made of teak. A railing that looks suspiciously familiar encircles a Widow’s Walk upon the top of the abode, and an anchor occupies a spot near an herb garden at the front. Your gaze traces the lines of what you’ve created, and you hear yourself saying, “He has saved us.” Turning, you look to the woman from earlier visions, and she is gazing at you uneasily, her eyes drifting past you to the seas. Laying your hand upon her shoulder, you say with sincerity, “I’m so sorry, but the seas are lost to us, now. Charl has turned his eye from us and we must now turn our eyes to Him. He is our salvation.” Slowly, the vision fades. Verse Nine: As you sing to an oiled aquamarine case, the scent of the ocean rises to reach you, and you hear the light sound of a tenor singing rise to your ears. [http://forums.play.net/forums/GemStone%20IV/Paid%20Events:%20Adventures,%20Quests,%20and%20SimuCoins/Ebon%20Gate%20Festival/view/18283
- The Weapons
As your song touches upon the trident, your vision clouds and the bright blue of the sky at sea spreads before you. Dozens of families stand clustered in small groups upon the deck of a ship, and beyond them in the open sea are two similar vessels. Their voices are muted as they speak in quiet tones of mingled excitement and trepidation. “Jorgethin is right,” you hear a man say, echoes of agreement rising around him. “The politics are too much. It is time we make our own way.” Slowly, the vision fades. Tenebrous and ethereal, the lore of the trident unfolds before you. Night has fallen upon the ship, and slumber touches upon the elven souls that ride at sea. Lanterns illuminate the faces of those that stand at watch, concern etched in their countenances. “We need to find land soon,” a whispered voice says. “We are trying,” counters another with resignation. “If only this blasted mist would let us see land,” says the first. Slowly, an indigo light obscures your vision. Skeins of indigo and silver mist trickle across your vision as your voice reaches out towards the trident in song. Wane and sickly, the families lie in weary clusters of exhaustion and concern. Small ones rest in the laps of their elders, their faces sallow and their stomachs distended. Whispers rise amid them, curses to Charl and Niima for abandoning those that have been faithful. As the curses and denouncements take root, the mist eases and a cry from above heralds, “Land ho!” Slowly, the vision fades. As your querying song touches upon the trident, your vision is filled with the sight of dozens of elven families carrying all that they possess upon a black sand beach and away from three vessels. Indigo and silver mist follows them, the ethereal element touching each and every person in turn. As the last crate is pulled from the vessel, and the last elven foot touches the island’s sandy shore, a wave swathed in shadows crashes into the ships and scatters their timbers upon the shores. The vision slips away… As you sing to the trident, your vision is filled with dozens of faces as they turn towards the shoreline, debris littering its dark sands. Indigo eels with silver eyes swim at the water’s edges, collecting and pushing the broken bits of wood towards the shore, and as they do, a voice fills your ears. “My children,” it says. “Come to me. I am your Salvation and will save you from the Curse of Charl, the Lies of Niima. Lay aside your weapons and know peace on Caligos.” The vision slips away... [8]
- The Mandolin
Verse One: Joining the threads of your song, the case yields to your song of inquiry and shares its song. Swirling grey mistsslip across your vision, and you find yourself sitting upon a deck that is wrapped in a miasma of fog and soaking rains. You hug the case to your chest with one hand, while the other brushes damp tresses from your brow, and you feel a frown tug at the corners of your lip. A woman comes into your view. “You’ll need to put her up, minstrel,” she says, a tinge of regret in her voice. “We’ll need even the soft hands if we are to come out of this.” As she moves away, your vision begins to return to normal. Verse Two: As your song touches upon the case, you immediately feel it being changed from one of inquiry into the rhythmic drone of a working song. "The mist is rising, and the tides be low, Heave away, Sally, heave her just so. They be waiting so patient on the Captain's behalf, Heave away, Sally, heave off ye gaff." The song continues on, but a familiar voice at your ear says, “That a boy, I’ll make a sailor of you yet.” Slowly, the rhythm of the song fades around you. Verse Three: Moonlight slants across your vision as you gaze at the case, and momentarily blinds you. When your vision clears you find yourself on the familiar deck of a ship that is gently gliding through the waves. The bright silver of a full moon is reflected on the water, and the soft glow of lanterns strung across the deck gives the vessel an almost ethereal cast. Moving towards you is the female sailor from previous visions, and her lips are quirked in a half grin as she watches you stifle a yawn. “Don’t worry,” she says in a teasing voice. “You’ll get to sleep in on the morn, but first you must survive the night shift.” Laughing, she dances away from you, and the moonlight reflects in a dazzling array off her silver-blonde hair and briefly blinds you once more.Naamit’s eyes sparkle with silver light as she sings to the case. Verse Four: As your song touches upon the case, you hear the soft laughter of a familiar voice at your ear. Her words are difficult to understand, but their meaning is clear in the teasing tone of her voice. You find yourself replying, your laughter falling from your lips in a rich tenor. Slowly, the sound recedes, but not before you hear yourself saying, “I think I love you.” Verse Five: Your voice touches an oiled aquamarine case, and almost instantly, your tongue dries up in your mouth, and sweat moistens your brow. Your vision blurs and then settles upon the now familiar deck, but this time it is incredibly crowded as if every sailor is present. Faces are drawn and tight as you move through the crowd, and you quickly find your way to the side of the conversant female sailor. She turns to you, her features slack and tears standing out in her eyes. “What is it?” you find yourself asking. “Our home,” she says to you as she throws her arms around your neck. Continuing into your shoulder, you can hear her say through her sobs, “The House of Faendryl has destroyed our home. We are lost.” Your heart clenches in your chest, but you whisper reassuringly to her, “As long as you are with me, you are home.” Slowly, the vision fades away. Verse Six: Your song reaches out to the case, and a sense of deep weariness fills you. Once again, you find yourself upon the decks of a vessel that is heavily obscured by waves of fog and mist. You cradle the case close to your body as a voice above cries out, “Brace for land!” Silver mist falls upon you like a wet, heavy blanket, and you lurch as the sound wood being split asunder fills the air. The woman from before comes running towards you and pulls you to your feet, practically draggin you from the deck of the boat. You hurtle over the rails behind her and plunge into the cold sea. Darkness briefly eclipses your vision. Verse Seven: You reach out with an inquiring tune to the case, it latches onto you like a drowning man. The song of the case pulls you down until your vision grows dark, and you feel like your lungs might explode from lack of air. Just as sunspots begin to fill your vision, the air rushes back in, and you find yourself crawling across the jagged stones of a desolate beach. Debris litters the ground around you, and you feel a brief return of the panic as you look at the woman you love, who is curled upon her side further up the beach. Struggling for breath, you somehow manage to make your way to her side and gently brush the hair from her face. Her breath spills from her lips, and you find yourself humbled by the flood of emotions that pour through you. Lowering your head, you offer a silent prayer of thanks to Niima. The woman rolls over, and cradled to her chest is an oiled aquamarine case. Your vision slowly fades. Verse Eight: Soft is the song that rises to you from the case as you sing your tune of inquiry to it. Gone is the beach, the sea, and the ship. Each is replaced with forests, silvery mists, and the shape of a house made of teak. A railing that looks suspiciously familiar encircles a Widow’s Walk upon the top of the abode, and an anchor occupies a spot near an herb garden at the front. Your gaze traces the lines of what you’ve created, and you hear yourself saying, “He has saved us.” Turning, you look to the woman from earlier visions, and she is gazing at you uneasily, her eyes drifting past you to the seas. Laying your hand upon her shoulder, you say with sincerity, “I’m so sorry, but the seas are lost to us, now. Charl has turned his eye from us and we must now turn our eyes to Him. He is our salvation.” Slowly, the vision fades. Verse Nine: As you sing to an oiled aquamarine case, the scent of the ocean rises to reach you, and you hear the light sound of a tenor singing rise to your ears. [http://forums.play.net/forums/GemStone%20IV/Paid%20Events:%20Adventures,%20Quests,%20and%20SimuCoins/Ebon%20Gate%20Festival/view/18283