wildestlogs | Secrets and Stone

Secrets and Stone

Who: Need and whoever rescues her, Lloyd and 1 pal.
What: Learning from the ruins
Where: Different areas in Trollmarket
When: After the group discussion, shortly before the group will be made to move on.
Warnings/Notes: N/A for now.

Trollmarket is not an evil place, nor a place tarnished by hidden shadows.

It's a place where a good people once lived. It's a place that is losing its life-giving light as the stone dims, tragically losing something beautiful that touched the magic and life force of a world.

It's a place that was somehow ravaged by the sun by a people who found it to be poison.

There are a few things in the ruins that can help some of them learn a little more about the people that lived here - and therefore a little about the new world they found themselves in.

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[Gnome takes the time to listen.]

[He shakes his head.]

[He tries to explain something about the monsters, and the stone, and the people who once lived here, but it's hard to interpret.]

Maybe if she keeps it to questions with simpler answers. Need is patient.

:You’re saying they haven’t been here? The Heartstone keeps them away? Did you know the big people who used to live here?:

[The gnome nods yes to both questions.]

[He says something incoherent about a place where she can learn more if she wants. Something about words. Writing, maybe?]

[He points to a tunnel that seems to lead to light, perhaps leading her back out of the walls again.]

[And then he asks if she wants to go get answers.]

:I would like this very much. Can I bring my human friend? He can carry me.: So that Raistlin won't hear, she tells the gnome king, :He was upset when I disappeared.:

So that Raistlin and and only Raistlin will hear her Need also says :They're harder to understand than I'd like, but I'm not sensing any hostility or deception. Haven't you been curious about this place?:

:I have been. And you can't lie in mindspeech, which, he's beginning to believe, really is different from the telepathy he knows back home. Need had demonstrated, and he had tried himself, to test it. There's always the outside possibility that the creatures' minds function in such a way as to allow them to lie, but...

:I suppose we're not entirely helpless if they have some way to deceive your mindspeech: Raistlin tells her, tightening his grip on the staff. :It's an acceptable risk, for some answers.

Gnome Chompsky signals for the gnomes to pick need up again.

"Hup hup hup hup hup hup," they chant as they carry her once more. But this time they lead her out of a hole in the wall and back into the wall near Raistlin.

Gnome sees the large man, assumes he's with Need, and points in the direction they're taking her.

The area they take them into is a little library, tucked away where the entrance is hard to see. It doesn't have the high roof of some libraries but it's stacked wall to wall with ancient, dusty tomes. Some are on bookcases and shelves, others are stacked on top of each other in towers.

There's also a writing desk. Several scrolls and sheaves of paper are on it, pinned down by a metal paperweight.

A library. Well, that would be terribly useful, except that Raistlin has a feeling these are all going to be written in that script no one can decipher. But there might still be some clue. Pictures, maybe. Or a child's primer, and then he could try to learn their script -

"Here, then?" The little gnome-king nods. "Thank you. Where to begin...?"

He approaches the desk, cautiously. This could be an ordinary scholar's workspace, or it could be a mage's. No way to tell by looking, and any mage worth the title would have protections around their tools.

The gnomes prop up Need against a chair, much more respectfully than they were carrying her before. Gnome Chompsky has seen much of the world - realms even - and they trust the compassionate wisdom of their king.

The gnome climbs on the desk and points at the papers. Instead of being written in a strange tongue, they're written in Sylvaen, the language they all instantly understood upon arrival to this world - apparently the author learned that language too.

Under the papers is a small clockwork small device, with a crystal on top. It has a switch.

Edited 2021-12-07 04:03 (UTC)

Raistlin is a clever lad. He reads the note before he so much as breathes on the crystal; it's clearly a device of some kind and you don't go activating unknown devices without precautions unless you have a real yen to be turned inside out or splattered across the ceiling.

But first he reclaims Need, buckling her back around his waist with an air of "and don't do it again, please."

:Learning a new language from a child's book? Ambitious of you,: Need murmurs approvingly, interested by the half-plans that cross her bearer's mind before the notes are indicated. She's seen, through various sets of eyes, translations in this new language floating over various scraps of writing, but she hasn't seen a whole lot of that writing yet. She is very curious, but also glad that Raistlin takes her back at the first chance where that doesn't mean snatching her right out of the gnomes' little hands.

Need stretches out, inasmuch as that word can apply to her. Her magical senses have been largely made nonfunctional but this is the kind of range where she can tell if the device is magic, and if it has a particular feeling to it.

The device doesn't feel like a trap. It feels like something that projects light. Maybe a recorder? Or a communication device.

The letter is fairly illuminating all on it its own.

It's written in a strong hand, in large letters, as if the person doing it had much bigger hands than a human. Indeed, the paper itself is larger too. It fits over several pages.

To whosoever comes across this letter,

I write these words with a heavy heart. My name is Blinkous Galadrigal and I am the leader of the Trolls that once lived here in Heartstone Trollmarket.

We Trolls are a proud people, and aside from mild personal squabbles, we are for the most part a peace-loving people that cares for its own. We are a people that has even coexisted peacefully with some of our human allies, despite our differences; and the times we rose to conflict, it was against great destructive forces plaguing human and Trollkind.

We built much and delved deep into the earth, to depths no other species has been able to go, and we've unearthed what resplendent beauty could be found there.

Something fairly obvious by all the jewels and crystals around Trollmarket.

The letter goes on:

The greatest and most pulchritudinous of these treasures was the Heartstone, the great stone in the center of our community. It was more than just sublime in appearance - until it was damaged by one of our enemies, it was something that tapped into our planet's sacred energies, a medium that channeled life energy and magic from the Earth itself. It provided us with light and sustenance.

Not long after it was broken and we nearly faced Earth's final night, calamity befell our people. Our home was spirited away to this world and Trollmarket was forced above ground. Part of the cavern's roof caved in, partly exposing our realm to sunlight, which is fatal to our people. Strange creatures roamed in the lands outside, as well, held only at bay by the Heartstone's light. We fear what will happen when that light finally fails, and we believe it will fail soon.

If you're reading this, I ask that you respect our honored dead, those who were turned to stone in the disaster. We lost many good trolls that fateful day and have laid them to rest in our people's way.

We plan to move on, under the guidance of our steadfast and sagacious human friends, who plan to keep scouting ahead for refuge to escape the sun each day, until we might find a new home, suitable for our kind. They have already traveled great distances in their scouting. They said they've learned something of this world from other people in it: that it has drawn in large swaths of land and entire realms from other worlds, much like our own.

According to those they've spoken to, many of the places drawn here - to a world its communal people apparently call the Wilderlands - are worlds of myth and magic. We've also been told that there is respite to be found past the mountain pass, far beyond the lake. A small desert lies beyond but our friends have already timed how long it takes to reach shelter. It's traversable in one night and there are greener lands beyond the ruins they found. The creatures that prowl the night seem to fear the desert sun.

Word from passing forest guardians called "rangers" is that these wooded lands beyond are supposed to contain a haven of safety and healing called Rivendell. We are hoping they'll give us refuge - and they may do the same for you. One of the wizards that travels with us says they may be able to grant you the answers we cannot.

...Although I'm sure he could leave you with some answers of his own, but unfortunately he's disobliging on a good day. However, I can at least offer some guidance at the behest of the wizard. Disagreeable though Merlin is, his gift of foresight has been irritatingly spot on. I've pressed him enough that he talked me into writing this letter for someone.

Apparently, it will be read by a talking sword and a man with golden skin. I hesitate to believe him, but I suppose I have seen things far more unbelievable than that. So I intend to take him at his word.

If you are one of those individuals and are currently reading this, he says that you and the group you find yourselves with are bound to a greater destiny in this world - and bound to one another. And that your path will not be an easy one. I'm afraid he is often right about such things, which is why I agreed to write this, so I can render what little aid I can, even if it's only information.

I have seen the burden that destiny can be on one's shoulders, and if he tells the truth, I'm terribly sorry you and those you're with may have to bear it. But I have also seen the heights it can cause one to rise to.

The wizard has had Master Jim, our champion and defender, our Trollhunter, record something for you on some strange device. I don't know what it is he said but it's supposed to open at an appointed time, when the message is one you need to hear most.

Whatever it is you face, I wish you all a safe journey and I make one humble request, lest we're unable to make our own journey safely:

Please. Remember us. Even if all that you know of us is "they cared for their own, grieved those they lost, and tried to guide those that came after."

May your own path be safe and swift. With great consideration and estimation,

- Blinkous Galadrigal

:They were clearly a literate people. Literacy has to be taught. If they make tools to do so, then anyone can use them: Raistlin says, before settling in to read the letter.

"...Hmm. So this place - collects people?" he says aloud. "People and places. To what end?"

He turns the papers over, looking for anything further.

"Quite courteously written for a cryptic message of destiny."

:The angle the implement was held at is different here. This leader or their scribe paused and came back to continue,: Need muses absently as her bearer reads down the document. :Or changed hands? Hard to say, there's not the smudging I'd expect from writing this direction left handed, but some people can pull it off.:

Her first thought is: oh these poor people, this is clearly a horrifically difficult and risky thing to do, and they've been gone long enough and went far enough away that she can't pick up on them with her Empathy. Her second thought is: we can't just tell everyone. Would it cause a panic? Is there a way to work off this information alone or with some hand-chosen people? Need likes secrets and slow, careful reveals, she likes to have a more complete picture than other people. Sometimes knowing just upsets others.

She regards that second, completely reflexive thought carefully, allowing Raistlin to see what she's considering. The "Chosen" are not a cohesive unit, is the problem, and controlling who's told... That's just the leadership question all over again, but putting her metaphorical hand in. And if the Heartstone flickers its last quickly, it will better serve for everyone to know.

Need then asks the gnome, :Did they leave you here? Are you a kind of Trolls?: Their biology is certainly further from human than it seems at a glance. But if the sun affects them the same way, they're certainly small enough to have an easier time avoiding it than the hulking bodies she's seen in the Market.

The gnome chatters away. It's clear he holds some respect for some trolls, but only for a few it'd fought side by side with.

The gnome says it was closer to some humans.

And that no, they're not related to trolls. And they chose to stay behind - most of the trolls weren't overly fond of them anyway, seeing them more as pests.

He explains that their human friends realized the monsters the Trolls were afraid of disliked the daylight. But since they were unable to take advantage of that themselves, and could only move at night when the monsters were active, they decided to move on.

He explains the gnomes don't fear the monsters. Even when the Heartstone fails, they can move during the day to hunt animals in the woods and hide in small tunnels and caves and cracks at night where they can't be reached.

So they decided to stay. Their ability to hide easily and move during daytime means they can also leave to find communities to relocate to if needed.

He explains that the trolls weren't so lucky.

:Keeping it secret won't do any good: Raistlin says, as soon as Need introduces the idea. :If the others knew we'd discovered and concealed this, they'd be outraged, and I can't say they'd be wrong. This is the first thing like an explanation or a goal that we've encountered; half the reason that ridiculous fight happened is that we don't have anything to do but fight. This is, if nothing else, a direction to move in.:

The fate of the trolls doesn't move him particularly, other than a vague approval that they'd done exactly what he would do - accepted the parameters and risks of their current situation and chosen to act constructively towards a solution, rather than sit around bemoaning their fate and clinging to the way things used to be.

"Your Majesty," is how he addresses Gnome Chompsky, since he hasn't actually been told the little creature's name. "May we tell our companions about you and your people, or would you prefer to keep to yourselves?" He'd certainly thought them unintelligent pests until recent events; others, laboring under the same misapprehension, might act without care when defending their possessions.

Need grumbles wordlessly, resistant but knowing a good part of her resistance is based on things that don't apply. This isn't an organized band currently living with a group of civilians, or it can't operate like one, anyway. This is more of a direction than 'back towards the fair in the hopes of finding someone friendly instead of those unfriendlies that chased us here'. Grudgingly she pushes past herself enough to say, :You're not wrong.:

She doesn't quite say 'I told you they were people' when Raistlin addresses the gnome; she'd said it offhandedly enough to allow it to be taken to mean their shape and not personhood, plus I told you so is never helpful. But she does send him a private note of exasperation, a :They wear clothes, child.:

It's a fair question though. Several of the others have connected with the feral cats living in the cavern, creatures they're more familiar with. The gnomes are enigmatic and actively interested in what people are carrying with them - negative feelings towards them are much more common.

Edited 2021-12-10 00:06 (UTC)

The gnome chatters his agreement.

He does want people to know not to harm gnomekind.

In return he tells them that he'll tell his people not to steal from them. They might not all listen, but any gnomes that disobey will be forced to return what they stole.

:They wear identical clothing. They could have easily been largely mindless magical constructs running loose without their masters, following half-remembered commands. Or an enchantment gone awry.: He'd realized they were intelligent when he saw their king and throne room; that was more than mindless repetition or re-creation could manage.

"With your permission, majesty, we will take this letter and this device to the others. It tells us that there is a place of safety not far from here, where we may find answers and guidance. If necessary, may we bring others to this library to see it for themselves?"

:Lots of people wear identical clothes and do things that are hard to understand,: Need insists stubbornly. The constructs she's familiar with are rarely put in outfits, but she really just wants to Teachable Moment this. :Different planes have very different kinds of people sometimes.:

She can't nod, but there's an impression as if she's done so. :Thank you, sire, we will tell them. If any of your people need healing, I can help.:

The gnome chatters that it's fine for them to take what they want or bring who they want to the library.

And thanks Need for the offer. Then he signals for his fellow gnomes to head back.

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