CHRONICLE > Dunstrand Rising is a Living World campaign set in Grand Duchy of Dunstrand in the Steel Realms of the [Fantasy] Steel Realms Setting (planet of Helca).
Dalcia was either present, or took from the memories of the orb and recorded them on the paper Feather brought back from the Ceflu Church/Companions Library that duplicated it into the living annals in the sealed reliquary under the Companions Library.
Silently the gathered figures stare through the opened eye unto the battlefield and watch the battle unfold. Time seems to slow down, and every painful expression, every thought that flashes behind the eyes can be seen on every combatant. It is as if all the gathered figures are holding their breath in silence. But it is over quickly in real time. In less than two minutes, the victors are walking off the field, and the eye is closing and drawing them back.
The massive form of the green dragon quivers in pain. Ichor drips from an empty socket as she paces, sometimes holding her hand over it. “It does not heal.”
Ssissllenn: Surely you know it is not a normal wound, the sight.
I know. I cannot think, I knew there would be pain, but this is not ceasing. I cannot think. A reckoning is needed, this i cannot live with.
It will pass.
So you say. When?
A fortnight. Short in cosmic time.
Unacceptable. And If I kill you now?
You know you cannot. Even if you slay this husk, I cannot die.
It is tempting.
I am sure. But you wanted to never lose the benefits of the site.
I bargained in good faith.
No, you bargained in ignorance.
Do not force my hand.
I do not seek it. What is it that I might give to end your suffering?
An Eye for an Eye.
No.
I will not see such. It is not possible for me to manipulate it as mortals would. Look into my words. I speak the truth.
I see you. I see the truth. Still I do not trust you. You will gift it.
No, I will study it. I will never gift it. I would see it destroyed once I learn its secrets. The worst of its influence will be gone forever. The Watcher will no longer see through it.
You speak the truth. Though you are draconis. You can make your own truth. Perhaps the pain is masking some of your thoughts.
You are wise, but suspicious. I bid you, end my suffering and give unto me this, so that I may clear my thoughts from pain which I so rarely know.
Let it be so.
The eye socket of the green dragon closes its lid forever. As it closes, it seals along the edge, and she is forever blinded in one eye. A great grumble is heard from deep in her. “I am blind, thankfully.” I was wrong to ask for the sight, lord of serpents. I have my memories, but even now they are becoming hazy. I cannot unsee these things completely, but I can block them away forever. I am blessed to have shared in this for even a moment. I am weary, but I cannot rest, for in such a state, The Sleep might overtake me.
I can give you rest, scaled kin. The rest of respite, not the rest of ages.
If I may, for single cycle, it would complete my healing.
Lay down your head, stretch forth and rest.
{she does, and the vibration from the pain subsides as the sand on the lake shore shifts and moves with it, slowly digging her into a pocket and then it ceases and all tension drains from her form.}
The figures from the battle begin to step back through the eye, as they pile the bodies of the slain upon the sand of isle of the Cold Eye in silence. The massive serpent head turns to the humans. The druids move to gather up the bodies and items, helping each as they can. The bridge of snakes takes them back across. The great form of Ssissllenn is left alone. The massive serpent moves through the standing stones. Just as it seems about to return to the waters, it speaks. “Dalcia. I know you are here. You cannot stay. ”
With a loud gulp, she steps out. “I just wanted to say goodbye to Na’grindl. ”
If only you were so kind. Take whatever it is that you stayed for.
Lord of Serpents, I don’t know…
Do you think you could hide from the eye? I may not know exactly what you are doing, but the signature of yet another weave in The Pattern is there.
“Yes Lord of of Serpents, it shall be as you command.” With that, she casts a spell upon the sleeping dragon. The orb circling above her head becomes visible. It gently floats to her.
Human, I cannot fault you for seeking knowledge. And I will not interfere with this seeking. However, she will kill you for it.
I know. There will be no stopping her unless I flee now.
There is no place you can flee. Your power will be gone long before hers is. You have but once recourse. Find your superiors, record everything, disseminate it and spread it far and wide among the hidden places of your order. Do not reveal its contents to any but a few. Hope that her wrath she sees will be pointless at this stage and that she is happy with her reward.
Did you give her the Eye of Dimov?
Yes, it will be hers, but as she said, she will not give it away and will destroy it. She has given her word. She will study it then destroy it. Though she is draconic, and perhaps she has some other plan but in her pain, I sensed no false intent.
What about the other one?
In what regards? Perhaps the Hall of the Dead can strip away her torment. Perhaps somewhere there, she can find peace and a way to return. If not, she will pass into one of the many doors and no longer be anyone here on Helca’s concern. She has with her feathers from The Cloak of Stars – perhaps she can bargain with that. It may be that that causes her to run on the edge of madness. These are concerns for the humanoids of this place. It is time for you to go.
I have many questions.
Such is the state of ignorance mortals find themselves in. Take the helm of the seer, lay it to rest in the Hall of Heroes. Such a struggle for your kind. Perhaps some day it can be used to heal, rather than to harm. Perhaps that is the lasting effect of The Sight upon it. Go. Find your future.
Silently Dalcia walks to the bridge of serpents and lets herself be carried across. She looks over her shoulder one last time to see Ssissllenn swallow the other items of Mendollin. They break in its cosmic gullet, releasing their energies as the serpent coils around the sleeping form of the dragon to protect it during her sleep.
Dalcia steps back onto the shore as behind her, the bridge of serpents unravels. She assists as she can with the druids to heal the wounded. She uses her powers to divine and record the items of power taken from Toad Faced Dog.
The druids take Mendollins hands from him, and his heart. The rest they give over to The Gallants – to be buried in their graveyard as befits a brother when he was uncorrupted.
They carve out the heart and eyes of Toad Faced Dog. It seems to twitch and struggle and everyone jumps to arms. But it is only the burning hate left inside it, so say the druids. That may never be extinguished. But it will be burned and laid to rest for at least a thousand years.
The bodies are loaded. “I’ll be riding ahead to prepare the settlements.”, says Dalcia. “Do not stress yourself. The effects of the void that Mendollin unleashed may take days to recover from completely.”
Dalcia asks the druids to open the path for her direct return north. “We will do this but once. You are sworn to tell your order of our aid in this matter. We expect the reciprocity that is due.” “Of course”, says Dalcia. “Know that we have all benefited from this, your precious Moorswood as much as our settlements. The Once King seeks to conquer, not to make alliances. Yours would have suffered, do not pretend the sacrifice was one sided.”
The Moordaeth responds, “It is not your countryside, but ours that is polluted and tainted for generations. But THIS is the alliance, something that the Once Kid could never have. We all wish the alliance to continue. Let us not join in conflict. Go with our well-wishes, as your folk say.”
Dalcia looks over her shoulders, and nods to the remaining Raiding Larks and Pin Feathers. “I will see you both soon, under better circumstances. Take your time, you have earned it!”