#Lore24 – Entry #338 – Sci-Fi Month IV #3 – Magical Arts, Magical Blood

Transcribed From the Personal Recording Implant of Andra Ganim, Chronicler of the Codex Infinitum

 AG:  “How would you describe your time at the academy upon the Isle of Fang?”

RV:  “Tedious.  It was far from the silly little social clubs obsessed with their legwear that it is these days, teaching little more than what could be considered the basics of arcane theory.  The ancient arcanists were still quite full of themselves, though, convinced of their own superiority in many cases, or trying to hide their contempt of those not gifted with a mind for the arcane through their good works that would earn them praise.  The humans were the worst of course; other elves were at least tolerable because I knew what to expect.  But, having never been around the short-lived beings much at all previously, it was quite the learning experience.  I seem to recall having thoughts that I was actively watching them die at some points, growing older before my eyes. 

Honestly, I can recall feeling underwhelmed once I had settled in and began my studies there, almost as if I already knew all of what they sought to teach me, on a deeper…instinctive level.”

AG:  “Instinctive level?  Could you elaborate more upon that, please?”

RV:  “Magic is in the blood of elves, my dear Ms. Ganim, and most of us, at least in those days, could instinctively perform rudimentary spells that were of a primal nature, affecting flora or fauna.  Grasping the deeper arcane methods was a rudimentary task for those elves who were possessed of even a middling intellect.  When I say that my understanding came from a deeper level, I mean that my very blood, my very soul even, was attuned to the flow of magic in ways normal elves could only dream of.  For all the tedium I suffered at the academy, it did at least make me aware of my unique nature, that there was something quite special about me that others simply couldn’t possess or understand.”

AG:  “Fascinating.  Could you elaborate more upon what this is?”

RV:  “In time.  I believe you have already alluded to this in the research you’ve already shared with me, so perhaps we’ll continue with your timeline beyond my school days?”

Note:  Her tone of voice was quite steady and calm here, yet I cannot deny the force with which Rivalle Volcari spoke.  She may have phrased it as a suggestion, but I have no doubts it was a command.

AG:  “Yes, of course.  As the records I uncovered indicated, now that you’ve confirmed your full name, you completed your studies there in only five years.  The grading scales are certainly different now, but by what records still exist, you received top marks and nothing but praise for your talents.  I imagine there was no shortage of parties interested in attaining your considerable talents?”

RV:  “Quite right.  I was offered a place within the Praxium of Arcavarlon, but at the time tensions were rising between the nations, and I had no interest in serving upon a council of my lessers.  The kerryns were insisting upon being the negotiators of peace, while the elves, dawn and dusk, and the aerians were already engaged in multiple conflicts necessitating said peacekeepers, while the humans sought, in their infantile ways, to profit from all sides.  To their credit, the dwarves and drakonae had the good sense to keep to themselves, for the most part, though they too would seek to profit from their exceptional weapon and armor craftsmanship.  The other races would barely leave a mark during this time.”

AG:  “Where did you go during this time?”

RV:  “To war.  I was quite ready to test myself against veteran battle-mages that had been dealing with the aerian nuisance for some time.  I was young then, my blood running hot, what you humans would understand as a rebellious teenager phase, and I was quite ready to test my destructive magic in a practical setting.  And that would lead to my work to build up House Volcari and see the establishment of the Elvish Dominion.”

#Lore24 – Entry #337 – Sci-Fi Month IV #2 – Humble Beginnings Upon Andyllion

Transcribed From the Personal Recording Implant of Andra Ganim, Chronicler of the Codex Infinitum

Though a storm rages outside, I cannot hear the thunder nor feel the force of the wind upon the building as I sit in Rivalle Volcari’s office, and barely notice the lightning due to the flash-hiding properties of the windows.  I can sense the arcane resonance in the air around me, mixing in nigh flawlessly with the technological systems that one would expect to find in a corporate office.  The enchantments are indeed of a warding nature, but are cloaked as to their full purpose, and I dare not probe them further with my arcane sight, for I can sense the power within them, lurking as if they themselves were some predators waiting to strike.  Even the plants inside the office make me wary, for though they are flowered and smell quite pleasant, I have little doubt that they are some kind of specialized breed of maidenbane vine, for they shift about as if following me.

The doors to the office opened within a matter of minutes after my arrival, and two people entered, Rivalle Volcari and her kerryn assistant, following dutifully behind her carrying a tray of food and drink.  I rose to greet her, steeling my nerves as the intensity of her gaze and mere presence slammed into me; there is no question as to the power present in her aura, and I could only begin to guess at the nature of the multiple enchantments upon her and her clothing.  I have never once seen someone with such a powerful aura of magic about them; this is something you would see hundreds, maybe even thousands of years ago, when magic was at its height, certainly prior to the wars that saw the collapse of the Great Elvish Imperium, at any rate.  Also, I can’t help but think I’ve seen her assistant somewhere before; she looks very familiar.

I shall begin the interview immediately, for her time is no doubt limited; any observations and thoughts will be noted as the conversation is transcribed; standard recording devices and handwritten notes will be taken as well.

AG:  “I am so very grateful that you have agreed to allow me to interview you, Ms. Volcari.”

Note:  Her perfume seems to be scented in a similar, if more concentrated, aroma as the majority of the flowering plants in her office.  Her grip is firm, skin smooth, tingling as my arcane sense picks up on the enchantments upon her.  She stands a few inches taller than me, in addition to the high heels she wears.  She makes no effort to hide her apparent amusement at our meeting, in contrast to the typically stoic or uninterested looks she typically gives during standard interviews.

RV:  “You’ve certainly done your homework, Ms. Ganim.  I daresay you’ve been the single most dedicated researcher I’ve encountered in quite some time.  Or would ‘stalker’ be more accurate?  No, I suppose not; you’ve not been that close, not until now, anyway.  Whatever could you wish to know from me that you’ve no doubt already uncovered?”

AG:  “There are several questions I have relating to various aspects of the history I’ve found, more often than not on details that are unclear or questions as to whether you were involved at all.  There are multiple times within our recorded history where the record is questionable at best, and one who has lived for as long as you have must surely have unique insights upon certain events.  Ah, forgive me if I’m a bit too forward in assuming your age, but you’ve reviewed the initial notes I’ve sent you.  Was I correct in my assertation that you are indeed of an age that precedes the Andyllion Demonfall and Great Cataclysm?”

RV:  “No, think nothing of it.  Though my reputation is rather infamous, I do respect the work you’ve done.  I daresay I’m rather flattered that I have become your obsession, Ms. Ganim; yours is certainly the healthiest such obsessive personality I’ve come across.  Most who obsess over me to this degree typically wish to see me dead.  Sit, Ms. Ganim; Lila, see to her comfort.”

Note:  Her assistant, Lila.  As she serves me tea and sets out plates for us as we take our positions in the chairs by the window, I know now why I thought her so familiar.  She is indeed the very likeness of Lila Darius, a fellow historian whom I’ve met many times during my years.  This could not possibly be her, though, for I know for a fact that Lila Darius is exploring the Demon Sector at this moment.  A curious observation indeed, especially considering we’ve brought up the subject of obsession.

AG:  “Might I inquire as to your origins, Ms. Volcari?  You are originally from Andyllion, but I am unable to ascertain the exact time frame.  And could you tell me of your early days?”

RV:  “Oh, I don’t have exact numbers, for I cannot be bothered with such trivial details.  Going by the current scale by which we track the passing of time, I would say that I was born approximately…five hundred years before the Demonfall.  Yes, that sounds about right.  My early life was nothing special; I was born amongst the dawn elves of long-lost Fyva Dorthore, though I knew early on that I was quite special even amongst their kind. 

I was, and still am, possessed of a most keen intellect, you see, and a remarkable affinity for the magical arts.  You’ve no doubt sensed the enchantments around us and upon me by now.  Oh, don’t look so surprised, Ms. Ganim, I’ve done my research on you just as you have done yours upon me.  If I thought you were a threat, I would have taken appropriate steps long ago, and you would either e in one of my private collections or dead.  Back to your question…my childhood and early development were rather unremarkable for the time, save that I excelled at the arcane arts.  At the time I was hailed as something of a prodigy in that regard and had already surpassed my mentors in my backwater little village before I had reached puberty. 

I would then journey to the great city of Arcavarlon, and from there enroll in the prestigious academy upon the Isle of Fang, the youngest dawn elf to have done so then, and now, if I’m not mistaken.  The Azalina Fang Academy as it is known now, such a droll name…it has gone through many names over the years; you can determine which one it was using during this time, I’m certain; again, I don’t keep track of such trivial details.  You may even have records of me being there, though I was, at that time, using my full name:  Rivaressel’alle’nara of House Voclari.  It had not yet reached the status of a Great House yet; that would come later, and with no small amount of work from myself to see it happen.”

#Lore24 – Entry #336 – Sci-Fi Month IV #1 – An Interview for the Ages

Transcribed From the Personal Recording Implant of Andra Ganim, Chronicler of the Codex Infinitum

My many years of research have, it seems, struck paydirt at last.  Or perhaps this is to be my end, given who I’ve been researching.  I must admit to some amount of anxiety going into this interview…but can I really pass up the chance?  This could very well be THE interview for the ages, for if my research is accurate, and I have every confidence that it is, then my subject is amongst the most important and influential individuals in the entirety of the known galaxy!

Of course, I speak of none other than Rivalle Volcari, the nigh-mythical head of the corporate behemoth known as DSM.  What other names have staying power like that of Rivalle Voclari?  She’s been the head of the company for centuries, after all, and has driven DSM’s name to be spoken in virtually every inhabited system, their products, in some form or another, present in every home that is at least halfway modernized. 

My uncertainty about this interview stems from the darker side of DSM and Volcari’s reputation, which, to say the least, beyond being legendary, is rather terrifying, if the truth of even a fraction of the rumors are true.  To say that she is the literal boogeyman of the galaxy is not entirely unfounded, and some worlds (those that have suffered some calamity at the hands of DSM, allegedly) actually describe her in such terms.

Surely a single woman could not be such a power throughout the galaxy, could she?  But what if she was?  What would that mean?  And what does it mean that she has accepted my request for this one-of-a-kind interview?  I know that she is aware of my probing into her past, for I have ran afoul of her agents many times during my quest for the truth of the woman, the myth, the legend, what have you. 

I approach the landing pad of DSM’s headquarters even now and have a distinct discomfort growing within me the closer I get that has nothing to do with the storm outside.  One could wish for better conditions, but one must take the chance when the opportunity arises.  I know not what fate has in store for me in the next few hours, but I have already gotten my affairs in order and made certain preparations in the event that I do not return from this interview.  Supposedly Voclari’s temper can level worlds when the right nerve is struck, though hopefully I can avoid any such landmines, at least well enough to not suffer any lasting ill effects.

This is a story that must be told, and though many of my order have tried over the years, none have gotten this close.  I must not fail.

#Lore24 – Entry #320 – Fantasy Month IV #15 – Unexpected Complications at the Standing Stones

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

I suppose I should likely have been more concerned when we moved deeper into the site of power and my accessories activated once again.  It had been such a mild distraction the last few days during my study of the ruin that I almost dared to believe that I had mastered its influence upon me.  This proved incorrect, however, for as we approached to within a hundred yards or so of the stone circle, both the nipple rings and my most uncomfortable cage began to vibrate, steadily and with growing intensity, as we drew closer, making me fidget enough to unsettle my horse.

Descending toward the center of the valley, the growth of trees around the stone circle thinned as we grew nearer until we were in a treeless clearing at the center, the circle of ancient stones stood perhaps a hundred feet in diameter, with the stones themselves standing roughly twenty feet high.  Some appeared almost like massive claws reaching from beneath the earth, while others formed standing arches at precisely the angles that matched the eight compass points.  No trees grew within the circle, the grass remained short, and no moss covered them.

Though we were exhausted from our assaults from the kobolds, and I was growing more aroused by the moment thanks to the incessant and powerful vibrations surging through me, I nonetheless began to study the circle while camp was prepared, just outside the circle.  After a time, when it seemed I may actually climax, I felt a most jarring cessation of the vibrations, almost as if a lever had been pulled, leaving me unsteady on my feet for several moments as I recovered.  Now that I was upon the edge of climax again, the other function of the items had taken over, and after I had had a few minutes to cool off, the teasing would start up again, ramping up to an almost painful level before shutting off just before I could reach the climax I so desperately needed.

It didn’t take me long to realize that the power of the dragon-rune-covered stones were causing this peculiar behavior, for the nature of the vibrations changed as I touched various stones and traced the runes upon them, transcribing them into my notes with what light we had left.  I wondered if I would be able to find rest at all within the radius of the circle without magical aid to suppress their activation or to put me into a deep magical slumber.  Although this did give me a clue on the origins and nature of the magics that had been worked into the devices attached to me, even though I wouldn’t make pondering upon them a priority.

The party, while not completely unaware of the nature of my predicament, as we had discussed my relationship with Lady Armenia during our travels, and Gresilda and Risai were quite well aware of situation as we had bathed together on multiple occasions to this point, certainly found out that night.  Shassk was indifferent or perhaps unreadable to me, Ellisar and Korvalis seemed quite amused with my predicament, Gresilda sympathetic and understanding, and Risai…perhaps envious?  She is rather stoic outside of battle, showing a remarkable control of her barbarian bloodline, but I’ve noted that she has been watching me for some time with a rather obvious curiosity. 

Still, once we had settled down around the campfire for the night to recover, I had began to form some idea of the nature of these standing stones, perhaps cluing me into the reasons why the magic within my accessories had activated so intently.  The nature of the site, and perhaps of this particular dragon’s domain, was to celebrate fertility and propagation of the species, and thusly, the ritual that must be performed in the name of the dragon ruler was one of a distinctly sexual nature.  This I kept hidden at the time, for I still had over half the stones to study to confirm this theory, but it would prove true enough by the following evening once I had had time enough to compile everything I had collected.  I found my rest through another sleeping enchantment from Ellisar, thankfully, though I was exceptionally aroused and quite wet by the time morning arrived.

Our respite was uninterrupted, the kobolds not willing to cross into the stie’s radius to hunt us down, and by noon the following day Shassk had already found two other routes out of the valley along the ancient, connected roadways that would undoubtedly lead to other standing stones.  After a very long and frustration-filled day, I would have conformation of the nature of the ritual that we would need to perform to show our devotion to the “Blinding Golden God”.  Though not an actual orgy, it would skirt very close to it, given the highly sexualized nature of the ritual movements that must be enacted in the center of the circle to receive the dragon god’s blessing.  The first of six such blessings, I might add.  I detailed what we must do and was met with a range of reactions, from incredulity to indifference to eager curiosity (again on Risai’s part).  Gresilda seemed to think that some of Erisaya’s rituals, and likely Yurisaya’s as well, were quite similar to what I described, and were likely of some ancient, shared origin.

Once we had debated what must be done, only Shassk declined to participate, stating that as a drakonae, he was already quite devoted to his draconic ancestors, and would have no trouble entering the vault once it was unlocked to the rest of us.  He said it with such conviction that I dared not say anything to the contrary; I know little of the drakonae and their modern religious practices, so I took him at his word. 

I won’t detail the nature of the ritual in my journal; that has already been done in my notes regarding the entirety of this expedition and the draconic city ruins, but needless to say, I remained the only one to be highly frustrated through shear arousal after the event, though my accessories did not hinder the ritual’s completion.  When it was done, the runes on the stones glowed and pulsed with the primal essence coursing through the earth beneath us, and we received the blessing as promised, a singular draconic rune upon our foreheads that roughly translates as “One Seeking Enlightenment”, which then faded from sight after a few moments.

Following another night’s rest, we would take the route Shassk had discovered that led to the southeast, hoping to finish a second ritual at the next site before returning to Vindinium to resupply before we continued our pilgrimage to the other locations that remained hidden from us. 

If only things had remained so simple as that.

#Lore24 – Entry #319 – Fantasy Month IV #14 – Seeking the First Standing Stones

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

The following morning found our way northerly blocked not only by the increasingly difficult terrain, but by thick fog rolling down from the mountains that we neared.  Shassk and Risai were especially nervous as we continued forward, given the way the fog tended to muffle sound in addition to its severe reduction in our line of sight, making for a nasty ambush.  Ellisar and Korvalis remained vigilant as well, given their keen elven hearing, and Gresilda and I kept our usual conversation to a minimum.  Thankfully the map that I had pulled from the dragon’s vault door gave us a rough idea of where we needed to go, and what I had suspected was once a massive roadway proved to be more navigable than we’d initially found closer to the temple proper, though it had been severely overgrown and in some places filled with what I assumed may have been buried remains of destroyed buildings that had once been party of the massive city, or perhaps signs of geological upheaval.

Thankfully it seemed that no hostile forces called our immediate route theirs and, as midday approached, the fog began to thin out, the sky overhead clearing from the recent storms.  The air was brisk in this area, but as we topped a rise, we could see a definite route through the rocky hills that was almost as straight as an arrow’s shaft between the hills, forming a definite, if heavily wooded, valley.  Passing into the valley, we remained alert, for there were once again signs of animals here, including a recent dear kill that was mostly consumed, most likely by wolves.  Perhaps a mile or so further on there were signs of humanoid habitation, for we found the remnants of a cooking fire and remnants of wood shavings; the tracks Shassk picked out of the soft earth indicated kobolds.

Perhaps two hours later, following a rest at midday, we saw further signs that there were kobolds nearby.  There were more tracks, and we found no less than half a dozen tribal totems, showing that there were at least two tribes of them in the area.  Knowing that the creatures tended to favor darkness and wouldn’t likely attack during the day, we resolved to pick up our pace, hoping perhaps that we could clear their territory before nightfall.  Korvalis moved up to ride with Shassk during this time, keeping his attention on the ground and trees, cautious of the simple but deadly traps kobolds were known for.  Indeed, he guided us around no less than four pit traps and sent us around two deadfall traps that would have sent boulders down upon us. 

As evening approached, we topped another smaller rise and crossed into a rockier region.  We found a suitably defensive position to set up camp, a covered depression in the hillside with some suitable cover from nearby boulders that would provide us some cover.  Ellisar set up several wards around us to alert us if intruders came, and we had a cold meal that evening, forgoing a fire, and fell into fitful rest. 

The kobolds attacked in the early morning hours, while Korvalis was on watch.  I had learned that he was quite comfortable in the dark by this time, practically became one with it when he wanted to.  He had already taken down three of the yipping attackers from his hidden nook above our encampment by the time we got to our feet.  Though we did not escape unscathed, our injuries were not deadly, thanks to Gresilda’s care afterwards, for the kobold weapons were coated with what was likely spider venom, which created a notable lethargy in those of us who received wounds.  We resolved to rest until first light, wary of another attack, then head out on our path northward. 

The kobolds attacked again as dawn approached, this time lobbing crudely made, but nonetheless effective fire bottles our way.  A quick application of conjured water from myself and Gresilda doused the first burst of flames that would have trapped us within our nook, and we rode out quickly, our well-trained horses trampling the small forms of the dog-like kobolds who appeared in front of us.  More fire sprang up around us, and Ellisar returned the favor with one of his wands, sending an explosive fireball into the midst of the attacking creatures, scattering those that weren’t blown apart or ignited into hiding long enough for us to clear out and continue north.  Perhaps the use of such magic would discourage further pursuit, but we weren’t especially hopeful and remained on guard.

Indeed, we would suffer three more kobold attacks as we continued on our path that day, from three different tribes it seemed, all of whom were quite hungry for our blood.  Word must have spread quickly amongst them, and no doubt the hills around us were honeycombed with kobold warrens that they used to pursue us, coming out of well-hidden crevasses to strike at us.  Their tactics adapted as well, for they began to target our horses, and then started trying to slow us and pincer us between them and drive us toward traps they had prepared ahead of time.  I knew that they were quite crafty, but experiencing their cunning firsthand was certainly an enlightening experience.

Haggard and bloodied, our spell reserves low and our fatigue high, bearing more wounds than we had hoped, we trudged forward as fast as we could.  Indeed, the “armor” gifted me by Lady Armenia proved quite capable of defending me, its enchantments reducing the effectiveness of the kobold weaponry as if I wore something akin to chainmail or scale armor, perhaps.  After the final attack in the late afternoon, near sunset, we passed into a circular valley marked by more kobold totems, though these, Shassk said, were warnings to go no further, marking the end of their territory.  Not far after these, the air changed, at once unnaturally calm yet filled with an undeniable, palpable energy. 

This was undoubtedly a site of great power.  We had arrived at our destination intact.  We had found the standing stones.

#Lore24 – Entry #318 – Fantasy Month IV #13 – A Most Intriguing Puzzle

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

I studied the draconic ruins for several days, spending much of the time on the massive door that marked a sealed vault of some kind beyond, but venturing into other sections of the ruin when I needed to refresh myself, though never without the adventurers close by should I come upon something quite dangerous.  It seemed almost as if the energy of the ruin, the essence of the dragons that once dwelt within still lingered in some way, keeping those beings and creatures not possessed of higher thoughts away.  Though perhaps it would be our folly to explore within; only time would tell.

Regardless, I translated most of the text upon the door (some of the high draconic phrases are still not entirely clear) and interpreted the imagery upon it as best as I could given my knowledge of the ancient dragons, based upon the notes I have made over the years in previous journals stored within my personal pocket library.  I wish that I had additional volumes at my disposal, those found within the Great Library itself, but only texts which I have personally transcribed are permitted within this pocket dimension, or journals I have yet to fill with my knowledge and experiences. 

Still, the nature of the vault door is similar to what has been encountered in other draconic sites.  This place was once a city, though was treated more as a holy temple by those who worshipped the dragons that dwelt here, its name translated as “The Cathedral of Eminent Tranquility”, once ruled by the golden dragon known as Mega-kuramu’Koganekami, whose many titles and alternate epithets have been transcribed within my research notes, for there are over two dozen of them.  Curiously the name is very close to what would become the kerryn script and language (however forbidden they might be to speak within the Empire, making knowledge of it exceptionally rare here), translating as “Blinding Golden God.”

Contained within the vault, supposedly, are the favored relics of this dragon, as well as collections of its vast wisdom and knowledge, though the wards upon the door prevent it from being opened by anyone who is not a worshipper of the dragon or who has not undergone a trial to prove their devotion to it.  Comparing the map of the vast temple-city, an empire unto itself, with the maps of the region now known as the Wildlands, I believe that I have managed to find some similar geographic features that may potentially lead us to discovering a method of opening this door, assuming the places of power still exist and still hold the primal essence of the dragons within, of course.  Even I am tempted by the potential treasures that lie within, more so the knowledge of the ancient dragons, but to study pristine relics of their time would be an incredible opportunity.  The Heroes of Vindinium are certainly keen on getting inside, the promise of wealth beyond imagination so very tempting.

As to what must be done, there should be six sites spread across the region in a pentagonal arrangement, laid out to form a five-pointed star, with the sixth site located directly within its center, and, based upon my translations, each site must be visited as part of a pilgrimage of sorts, and rituals performed at them to gain the blessings of the draconic god to be allowed to enter into its sacred space.  Comparing ancient to modern maps, I can roughly approximate the locations of three of the sites where these standing stones should be and can assume rough distances toward the others based upon the equal distances between points, though I know not of the lands further south and west of here.

The nearest of these standing stones should be to the north of here, perhaps two days travel given the rougher terrain, though it could take us longer depending on just how reclaimed the area is by nature.  We’ll be setting off in the morning to see if we can locate the site and see if its power still remains; the fact that the door itself still holds its warding is encouraging, but far from conclusive.

#Lore24 – Entry #317 – Fantasy Month IV #12 – Unravelling the Past

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

When Shassk said that we had entered the area of the ruins, I didn’t believe it at first, for I saw nary a stone that looked anything but natural.  I had been made aware that the ruins were rather expansive and not fully explored yet, but the lack of anything visible as we entered this wooded, hilly region meant that in all likelihood, they had been undisturbed for a significant amount of time.  It would take nearly another hour before I started seeing signs of the ancient site, a pile of worked stones covered in moss here or there, an embankment with a section of exposed stonework, then larger mounds that were likely once structures judging by their arrangement.  It was not out of the question that the very hills we were navigating were themselves ruined structures.

As the elevation increased, and more thunder rumbled in the distance, we came to the location that had been described to me previously, in a narrow valley between two large rocky outcroppings lay the entrance to what I immediately recognized as an ancient draconic temple.  The size of the opening, however overgrown by thick vines and trees it was, gave no doubts.  A quick examination of the carvings beneath some of the vegetation proved it, for I had seen several instances of similar scripts and carvings in the archives and in person at known draconic temples.  Ellisar showed me a section they had cleared off previously, his translation of the script accurately indicating that this was indeed once a temple dedicated to the worship of the draconic lord of this region, though it was only the titles, not its actual name, for that would be found elsewhere.

With Shassk and Korvalis in the lead, the party led me deeper into the ruins, through the areas they had cleared already, though Korvalis remained ever alert for ancient traps he might have missed or that may have reset, as well as new dangers that might have come about.  Shassk kept checking for signs of others having come here, stopping occasionally to listen or smell the air before giving us the all-clear. I was anxious to see the deeper areas, so felt rather annoyed at the slowness we advanced, but given the dangers we had already faced on the way in, their caution was likely warranted.

There were many side passages to explore later, though a good number of these were collapsed.  The main hall was mostly intact however, and I kept my notebooks and portable writing desk at the ready to note particular scripts or carvings that stood out as we proceeded, and to give my estimates on measurements, though most of what I saw conformed to standard draconic practices I had seen previously. 

At last, we reached the grand audience chamber, where the draconic lord would stand upon the massive central dais to receive tribute and hand out its orders.  The dais itself was littered with broken stonework, many of the ancient statues and pillars that once stood around the chamber having collapsed over the centuries and millennia.  The area was still open to the sky, though, the circular opening far above letting in plenty of light and moisture, allowing the chamber to become a veritable forest unto itself.  The party had previously set up camp here and did so again while I busied myself with sketches and notes of my observations.

I found the stairwell behind the dais that I had been told about, one of the massive doors that had once stood closed cracked and crumbled in one corner by particularly massive tree roots, allowing access into the deeper parts of the complex, which is where the relics had been collected.  These consisted of several pieces of jewelry, sized for drakonae or humanoids and bearing draconic scrollwork, a half dozen tiny stone statues of dragons beset with gemstones in their breasts, and an ancient ornamental shield, too heavy to have been used practically, with the seal of the dragon lord emblazoned upon it. 

Again following the party, they led me to what had drawn so much excitement about this particular site, garnering the attention of Lady Armenia (and likely other parties that I was not yet aware of):  far below, perhaps two hundred feet down the massive stairwell (we ignored many side passages and other chambers beyond for now) that required us to use climbing ropes to navigate (well, those of us who were not arcanely inclined, anyway), was a massive double door, easily the size of a colossal ancient dragon.  Already my arcane sight told me the ancient warding enchantments upon the door were still intact, perhaps not as powerful as they once were, but still likely to be deadly to those who could not prove their permission to enter.  The gold and platinum plates that adorned the door, not unlike scales, told something of the history of this particular dragon, forming a mural that would take some time to study properly. 

Fortunately enough, the purpose of our expedition was to do just that, and so I began my work in earnest.  So enraptured by the door was I that my sexual frustrations barely came to mind while I worked.