A dialogue: Ancient Stones
From Dark Age Redemption
|Following the escort of Chirri's peaceful Skaven to the Raider Outpost, a small group gathered before a large ankh that was rooted into the ground with stones and small flames surrounding it. Calderon Draven chose to smash the ankh, releasing energy that triggered several 'magical' reactions.|
|Story Type: Personal Story|
|Related Stories: None.|
[OOC: This dialogue is not public information, but this is here to clarify and stir up interest in some lore IG. All who were present (which was just a few), or who have been interested in the nature of ankhs and relics related, may seek Balaur or Feylen for clarification.]
Balaur spent his days wandering the Drearwood. If he could be of service to humankind in any way, the least he could do is become more familiar with how these lands became so strange and twisted. He monitored the movements of creatures, his specialty. Any concerns scientific and strange, he inquired of his brother, Feylen, via Virdd telepathy. They hearby discussed the event where Calderon Draven uprooted an ankh that had been established by a demonic presence following the Skaven splitting.
Feylen: So it was Zephyr stones, Balaur? You are sure?
Balaur: Indeed, Feylen. My hypothesis post quarry expedition holds: the stone's soft texture was nibbled away, and carried to the surface. Teething gargu. How loathing it is, that the Earthmaster's treasures have been so mistreated..
F: And unpredictably so. Review the setup once more in the Drearwood.
B: Aye brother. Compacted stones beside an ankh. Brittle was the ankh. Grates in front of it spewing purum into the air. Fires burning without kindling to the flanks.
F: The Skaven, I thought, never cracked Lothar's formula for sublimation ..? Unless something has told them. Alas, Terra is far too aged for us to be surprised. The agents within the Void are surpassingly creative.
B: Tell me then. You wouldn't have smashed the ankh, would you have, brother?
F: Nae, Balaur. Indeed t'was Master Draven's choice to make. I do remain curious about his instincts...what he saw. ...And so the synapse was crushed. The energetic recoil?
B: Mild, at best. A clash of energies and residual spirits from the rip that were set loose. A blast set the ground ablaze.
F: Fires of the Herald...his destructive language. And what of the Zephyr stones?
B: A resultant glow overtook them-- Temporary and lacking in any potency. The organic nature of the stone cannot hold the energy without its familiar pulse. If there were true transmutation into warpstone, we all would have been in a dire situation.
F: Mere stones for Master Draven's collection then.
B: A skin rash at best.
F: Don't amuse yourself, Balaur.
B: Live long, Feylen.