Recovering The Lost

[Mirtok 2853]

 

We had made it to a new land, survived everything some unknown evil force threw at us and even took down massive creatures never before seen. We came to a place hidden away in the mountains, to the North, a place where we can finally lay down the foundations of a proper nation. Though these lands appeared as though they had been lived upon by others. Ruins from a lost civilization were sprinkled throughout the landscape of the Northern Mountains, some carved into the cold stone underneath it all.

 

 

A make shift camp was erected where the snow met green fields. The Creature Lands held their own kind of wildness, with insects larger than any solider in the Teutonic Order. It was deemed too wild to settle however and the mountains served the Hansetian people better anyway. From that camp Hanseti grew; Stonehallow was carefully constructed inside the safety of Mt. Raenor, bearing with it a true work of art and testament to the Orders strength. Solid stone towering over the little snowy valley below. Eventually the workings of a promising city began to rise from the earth, homes and shops to house and provide for the Realms people. The Realm of Hanseti had finally done it, settled a land and created a place for its people to finally settle down and enjoy their lives with peace of mind- it was the duty of the Order after all.

 

But the Teutonic Order isn't just solely the sword and shield of the Hansetian people. We are vanguards of the unknown, fighting fierce enemies of darkness with the zeal and courage of the most legendary of heroes. We are pioneers of research and development, digging up a seemingly endless wealth of technological advancement from the Ancient Hansetians that hailed from the lost lands of Asulon. Mirtok himself understood the immeasurable value of forgotten thoughts, ideas and creations. This new lands was rife with them.

 

 

While the rest of the men toiled and labored, gathering stone, metals and logs; The Medics- the monastic warriors for the Order, harbingers of intellectual progression for the Order- took to the hills, uncovering relic after relic; chronicling everything they found and reporting back to the Hochmeister with their results. And during these searches, something was discovered.

 

"An expansive tunnel network that runs both under our own holdings but also the settlement of the Orvar Clan. There exists a chamber filled with towering shelves of books though unfortunately the vast majority have become rotted with age. The chamber is lined with large crystals that hang from the ceiling and there are several items of interest that indicate that such a place was lived in. Though we do not know how long it has been since another took up residence in the chamber, the overall condition of the room is far better than anything found on the surface. There is something special about this place, Hochmeister, please send forth supplies so that I may further investigate.

 

- Medic Darion"

 

The Medics combed the chamber for days, removing each tome from the shelves with the utmost of care, turning page over page hoping to find anything that may have survived the many years of neglect. Nothing was found besides the random assort of letters or characters that none of them could hope to understand with so few resources on the subject available to them. However, all was not lost for among the thousands of disappointing discovers lay one that was unnervingly well preserved- a poem.

 

"Deep within the dwarven mountains cold,

Miles under ancient earth and caverns untold,

Lies the ancient dwarven smithy of wealth long lost,

A place of dwarven dreams,

Into where flow rivers of gold,

The ancient smithy an awe to behold,

Many a dwarf lost in the caves,

Those who found it took the secret to their graves,

Know sons of Urguan,

Heed these words and take hold,

For one day you might find this wealth foretold."

 

It was already concluded that these ruins were more than likely of Dwarven design, but the recovery of the poem gave further proof to the theory. Its words were carefully dissected by several eyes and analyzed by several minds. It spoke of some lost art relating to smithing, something the Dwarves of old lore were among the most prominent. But none could discern to what the poem referred to, at least in regards to what kind of skill was lost, only that it was lost. Not too long after another door was found closer to the surface and even closer to where Hanseti was being built. This time much larger, much stronger and much more mysterious. The Medics of the Order struggled to discern to which door the tomes they had found referred to.

 

Another relic was salvaged, an old journal belonging to some lost thinker. It's contents disturbed those who read it but to Mirtok, it only increased his interest.

[Samson Option 9652]

[[busted three caps and Im polishing my pistol right now.]]

 

A Sariant can be found exhaling quick bursts of air to dust the fragile artifacts within and attempting to file them in some congruous order.

[Mirtok 2853]

The Medics, under the guidance of Mirtok himself, delved deeper into what all this could mean, how all the relics they had found connected. Wild ideas quickly invaded their minds, pushing them to believe that the door which had yet to be opened held behind it something of extreme power or perhaps a knowledge long lost to all. They had fanned out and collected stories of what others had found around the mysterious world, only adding further to the frustration of connectivity.

 

"I can only discern that perhaps not everything we found here in the Chamber relates directly to the doors of Northhaven. It seems like the old Dwarven metropolis to the South holds with it something worth digging up; Perhaps the writings of their All Father Urguan or maybe something that related back to their beliefs. We had come into contact with a team of Dwarven explorers and researchers; We agreed to exchange information.They want the truth of their past and theology in exchange for engineering and all other information that may have been recovered from the underground ruins. A fair deal indeed, their religion is their own and I do not bother myself with such things- but if what lies below us falls outside of that spectrum, now that would be something to be sought after.

 

I often find myself thinking back to that poem, wondering if it relates to that central mountain or to the door that I stand before now. If it is a door, to which door? One door appears much older than the other and less finely crafted but that may just be in the style of architecture. I fear that if we were to crack one open without gathering enough information, we could put ourselves in real danger. My experience with such things . . . bring me to behave with a bit of caution. The Death of Mirtok can only come about once.

 

In the end I must fall back on an old saying: Nothing ventured, nothing gained. That door is coming open."

[Mirtok 2853]

Dwarves had been reported around the lands of Northhaven, even going to far as to cross the borders into Hanseti. At the time, Mirtok thought little of their appearance and instead focused on the well being and progression of the Realm. Not too long after, High Elves dressed in their silken robes and wielding magic in each of their palms had been spotted crawling around the mountains. His men had compiled a report detailing what appeared to be a stoneman construct, a Golem of sorts but much larger than the ones Mirtok had seen following behind their masters or standing idle in front of doors. This one appeared to be dead, or if not dead merely sleeping, waiting to be awoken. The Medics of the Order were not equipped to attempt such a feat and so they were ordered to move on from the finding, though now it seems that outsiders had taken quite an interest in it.

 

Upon a routine scouting path it was discovered that the construct had vanished, leaving behind it a small pile of rubble where it could be inferred that it had been revived. A stout Dwarf requested audience with the Hochmeister immediately after the discovery.

 

"Hoiugh Elves. They wunted tu' wake 'et up fer 'emselves. We 'ad to intavene, prevent thawt from 'appenin'. Sorry if tha' is a problum but ye' mus' understand our reasonen. Le's forge a deal aye? A trade."

 

The two worked out the effects of an arrangement to be had about the ruins of the lands under Hansetian control. They were able to come to an agreement.

 

Mirtok thought back to that event, the Golem and the considerable interest it had among the more scholarly members of the races. On one end, we consider the prospect that the silken outsiders intended to possibly weaponize the construct while the other more stout visitors simply just wants to know about their own past. An unstoppable force such like a massive Golem would certainly be a valuable tool against ones enemies, avoid having to risk flesh and blood during battles. However, a Golem has no place among the ranks of the Teutonic Order; Sariants earn salvation through battle and it is an honor to die in the glory of war. And based on what the Dwarf was able to divulge about the inner workings of a Golem, it would require the soul of a living person to be sacrificed to bring the rocky automaton to life once again; Something that the Hochmeister would never permit- damnation to an eternity of abomination. A Sariants soul is precious to the Order, something that must be allowed to walk among their fallen comrades in the Hall of Heroes.

 

The tomes that had been recovered from the chamber did not relate to ancient arts of smithing and more than likely had little to do with advanced engineers of old. No, the journal taken from a nook under a staircase points towards something else, something more magical. Souls are a powerful thing, extensive research had been put towards that very concept. Power from within, power to be harnessed. The Ancient Hansetians had been able to get something close to that effect, wield the power of souls, but only scraps of those endeavours survived in Asulon to be found by the Order during its Golden Age of Technology. But with those scraps arose feats centuries ahead of its time, too much for even Mirtok to handle.

 

"I am torn between the tales of some gruesome and murderous wielder of magic and the idea of these Golems and their creation. These blasted doors are hiding something, we must move to find out what that is. I often pay visits to the Chamber and look into that odd mirror. I think I see something in it, something other than me but only for a moment and then I am left with nothing but my own tired image. I still wear the face of a man long dead, hiding the results of my carelessness from everyone. In time I will have to give it all up but for now, only the Medics know.

 

Where are you Ezekiel? What became of Aldrons power?"

[501warhead 1796]

Another of the sariants suddenly runs out, huffing as he approaches Mirtok. A tale is told to Mirtok of the unwitting brush he had with an object in the room that caused a reaction he was not expecting...

 

((There's something new awaiting you!))

[Mirtok 2853]

Indeed it was something unexpected.

 

The troubled Sariant could barely string together a coherent sentence but Mirtok was patient. A vision had infiltrated the soldiers mind and made him see something, he could only recall the the most vivid of colors and the dancing of light and dark. He was whisked away to the infirmary soon after, to be tended to by the Brother Medics and hopefully healed from his incident. The trauma that one can incur when their mind is no longer under their control can be catastrophic, anything more the Sariant could have told would have to be sacrificed if they were to maintain his sanity. Mirtok would have to figure out the meaning behind the poor souls visions on his own.

 

The lights around the chamber were dim as always, barely enough to allow one to navigate the place without tripping. The ceiling still hanging those four colored crystals, for what purpose was unknown. Lamps were laid along the circumference of the dome, perhaps they worked at one point but now only the ever burning of redstone gives these ancient halls light.

 

There it was again, the mirror.

 

"I know not what the Sariant had done to trigger his visions, only that is occurred here in this chamber. Everything in the room had been scoured and examined, everything that seemed important at least. Little remained untouched on the decrepit shelves of rotted parchment and leather. What was salvageable had already been copied and moved into the Hall of Records underneath Stonehallow. In my absent thoughts I leaned along the small jutting that the mirror hung over, looking forwards to have a broad view of the room. I was unable to conjure any thoughts on the matter at hand so I turned around and took towards once more staring into the seemingly ordinary mirror."

 

He stretched forth his hand and allowed the tip of his finger to make contact with the reflective surface. A sharp chill shot up his spine, causing his whole body to drop in temperature.

 

"My vision began to fade or perhaps the chamber itself stole away all the light from around me. As the last of the light quickly faded, the corners of the mirror glowed like embers from a dying fire; Almost soothingly orange and passive in glow. Then I was truly plunged into darkness, for but a moment before the chamber erupted with a sky blue light. It filled every crack and gap of the room, a milky fog of blue but without any indication that what I was seeing was at all real. Amidst where the hanging colored crystals- Red, Blue, Green and Yellow- would be, two figures appeared above me. Their shapes were indiscernible to me, nothing familiar, just simply figures. One was comprised of bright white light and the other a darkness that struck fear into my heart. They clashed, throwing off bolts of their essence with each collision but also in what seamed like launched projectiles. Their battle raged on before me with a quickness but then it stopped abruptly and the scene shattered much like a broken window, their shards crashing onto the stone floor as natural light returned to my eyes."

 

The Mirror hung where it had always since the Order members found this place, the chamber was once more to its normal state of dimness. Mirtok took a moment to himself to reflect upon what he had just seen. Many theories ran through his head and through the heads of each Medic that was brought before the Mirror and instructed to watch its visions. The experiences were all the same but experienced individually inside the beholders mind.

 

"What I saw at its most basic level was a battle between light and dark- good and evil if you would. I struggle to fully understand if the hanging crystals above us play into what I had seen. Did they represent the Four Brothers of ancient times? Did they represent the four main races of Aegis? Elements of the world? Or were they simply just hanging ornamentations? I have no definitive answer to my own questions nor the questions of my Brother Medics. This anomaly is a recent development that perhaps was not made available to us until very recently. I think these ruins are slowly awakening to our presence."

[Dr. Ducky-D 277]

Sariant Medic Edric lingers in the ancient library. He poured himself over the old books, they themselves having had seen centuries pass. What could it all mean? Are any of these writings even connected? So many questions washed over and through him like a wave of thought. He needed some sort of clarity.

 

He let out a ragged sighed and looked up from his studies, craning his he head to the mirror that lingered at the end of the room. By order of the Hochmeister he had watched the visions. Now they all shared it, that experience. It all seemed to be the same thing for them, but had it anything to do with his studies?

 

"I will find out what it all means." He exclaimed as he lethargically raised himself from his chair. Collecting his notes and equipment he made his way for the door. 

 

Coming to a sudden halt just in the doorway he turns around, as if having an after thought. The Medic would stare right at that mirror to have just one final look before turning away, muttering to himself. 

 

"I will speak with the Hochmeister about this the coming day."

[3VN 136]

Darion looks at the ancient doors, his latest attempt at opening them had failed. He had tried to open them immediately after discovering them, though all his attempts had been in vain, the doors wouldn't budge. "Damn." he mutters to himself and sits down in front of the doors. Looking at the doors again, he scans every surface looking for some sort of weakness. "There must be something pretty important behind those doors. However I do wonder if we are locked away from it, or if it is locked away from us."

[Lago 2572]

While the secrets of the manufacture of golem cores are a closely guarded secret amongst the Dwarves and High Elves, the animate stone constructs are hardly unknown to the denizens of Athera. Many, out of hope of unlocking the secrets of their creation or out simple scholary interest have recorded much widely available knowledge on them. Such information, if not known to the Sariants directly, could almost certainly be found amongst the tomes of their libraries.

 

One such piece of information contained therein is that out of all the many golems both observed in recent centuries and spoken of in the Scriberfolk texts found in Asulonic and Anthosian ruins, never has there been one that, upon accurate measurement, exceeds the 10 foot mark, and those close to it suffer from frequent mobility problems such as physical weakness and the abrupt detachment of limbs. While some believed the dwarves simply did not build golems too tall to fit through their doors, the evidence suggests that it is a fundamental limitation of so-called "golem core" that both powers and directs the construct.

 

Therefore one could quickly conclude, this giant golem found amongst the ruins likely never "lived" at all, and if somehow it did, it was not a mobile artifact. That to attempt to activate and utilise it as a weapon or even a worker is a fool's errand, a pointless waste of life in pursuit of an impossible goal.

[TheBareSheet 194]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.