Timestamp: 45th of Spring, 519 A.V.
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The woman paced slowly. She was neither in a hurry nor had a frightened manner about herself. Back and forth she walked, her bare feet making no noise on the stone of the hall she trod across. A man watched her thoughtfully, not interrupting her train of thought nor interrupting her path. He sat in a comfortable chair by a roaring fire that was reminiscent of a flickering incredibly hot forge. He rested his chin on the palm of his hand and leaned his elbow on the chair looking thoughtful.
“You want one of mine.” He said after a while. His words were not infused with any sort of accusation, instead they were tinged only with mild curiosity. The perfection of the tone of his voice matched the perfection of his form as he sat bare footed and bare chested with only loose stylish pants common to the Isur hugging his resting hips.
The woman looked up then, her serene face breaking into amusement. “They are not chess pieces, Izurdin. They are men. Just because you crafted them doesn’t mean you control them nor that they belong to you.” One would almost think she were teasing him, her tone so light and full of something that was edged with power.
The other man laughed. “You know what I mean. I see them as children, not pawns. Sometimes they grow up, sometimes they do not, and some need a push. But in the end, most all of them make me proud. You can have one, of course, but I’d like you to pick one from the middle of the pack. Take neither a lost soul nor an exalted one. Pick someone who has yet to distinguish themselves, someone just finding their feet on the cusp of their adulthood and growing into their own. This is a task you could do yourself after all, but I know in the end you want one of my children to do it. Why? That incessant need to spread hope?” He said, laughing lightly. “My sons make their own hope. They need little of yours. Why not pick a human? It would make more sense. Sunberth is full of the hopeless.” The man retorted, his curiosity only growing now… perhaps in the way she wished it too.
The woman stopped her pacing and turned to face the man’s questions. “I don’t want just any of yours. I want one in particular. And you know the rules. I don’t have to ask. I am here because I enjoy a good visit with you, Izurdin. You keep to yourself too much. Now be a gentleman and invite me to stay to dine and stop studying me like I’m one of your creations with a flaw that you simply can’t figure out how it got flawed.” She said, a slow smile passing over her lips. “And as we dine, like pleasant old acquaintances, I will tell you why I’m so interested in this one in particular.” She added, a full on smile brightening her face giving her an overall glow that radiated outwards.
Izurdin laughed. “Priskil, do you ever change? I take it the rest of the pantheon is still avoiding you like the plague out of guilt they did nothing to save Aquiras. You know that’s not my way. Of course, you can stay and dine with me. I’ll even cook. But you must promise to tell me all about your latest doings and why you want one of my sons or daughters in the thick of it.” He said, rising from his chair and offering her a hand. She crossed the distance, took his arm, and the two of them exited what was a sitting room and passed through a grand stone arch into what looked somewhat like a glorified humble kitchen.
“Indeed. I’ll be glad to catch you up …. “ The woman said gently, turning slightly to uplift her face and study Izurdin as they exited the room. Their voices echoed after them and those that were around to listen could hear them both rummaging around in Izurdin’s kitching cooking a meal together.
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The day dawned bright and beautiful. Crylon woke at his usual time, but his room wasn’t in the usual order. Instead, there was a lovely case – the type used for a large scroll or map - resting on his dresser. It glowed with a faint light and was made of pure white kidskin leather. A second case rested beside it of the same material that almost looked like a journal case. The two items were buckled together and had a long carry strap. Both were empty save for a small penned note found tucked into the map case.
“My Dearest Crylon-
I have a mission for you. I left something behind in the Temple of The Unknown. They are things that have deep meaning to me and now they are threatened. The city is growing increasingly unstable and The Temple of The Unknown is one of the bastions of hope in the city. Walk into it with a pure heart and clarity of thought. Keep your eyes open, and a way will light itself for you. Recover my two treasures. And deliver them to the great university library in Zeltiva when you have the time and opportunity.
For the first task – finding them – you will be rewarded with my love and gratitude. For the second task you will be rewarded with more of my time so that all the questions you have or gain can be answered after you’ve done the hardest of the work.
The items are concealed in a sacred space beneath the temple itself in a place my followers gathered to worship in the darkest times. Your task is to find that space, identify which two items in all of the treasure within are the ones I want you to choose and save, and then return alive. There is no time frame for you to get this done other than please see these items saved before more of the city falls into chaos.”
-Priskil
The note itself gleamed faintly and as he picked it up to read it, he felt himself infused with hope and a determination that almost bordered on vigilance. There was no doubt who the note was from. Something like that could not be faked. And as he looked over the items, he realized the scroll case and the small bookbag sized case were the only hints he had to go by as to what the Goddess wanted him to find and retrieve.
When he left… where he left… why he left… was all up to him. He could even leave the two items lay and ignore her wishes altogether.
.