The Great Betrayal
As the Infinity Train rumbled quickly through the rock and stone of the world below the surface, Vendar, Teeny, Fingus, and Vardis turned to the middle-aged, raven-haired woman they had unbound. It was now days after they had released her from Kurenthis’ mobile prison, but she was still pale and weary from her captivity. Though now fully healed, the slender noblewoman sitting before them hardly seemed capable of the dazzling display of sorcery that had brought down the illithid lord Kurenthis.
“Tell us, surface woman,” said Vendar Prin, “How did you come to be imprisoned by this mind flayer you slew?”
“Exactly who are you, Lady of Prendor? Have you the power to control this great artifact, this Infinity Train?” Teeny demanded.
Fingus added, “Just what on Aethe are you doing here, my lady? And how do you come by such mighty and impressive talents?”
Slowly, and with the reluctance of a heavy heart, Lady Flora Harmonant of Prendor began her tale…
In the year 1398 in the Age of Faith, I was counted as a noblewoman of some influence in the surface nation of Prendor. There was some truth to that, as I am… was… married to Prince Gideon Harmonant, youngest son of King Harl Harmonant. We were blessed with eight beautiful children, six sons and two daughters. As I was the eldest remaining of my father's children, all daughters, my own children stood to inherit the province of Mystria, the feudal realm of my father. So yes, I held influence in Prendor.
But that year, a storm was brewing. The King, growing ever more concerned about his legacy as an devout Elosian, determined to rid his lands of all sacrilege. Paintings and books were burned, sculptures crushed, and the holy places of lost religions defiled. Of course, there were those who begged the king to relent and allow the great works of the ages to stand. But he would not listen.
And then the King stumbled upon the Avatars of Mount Aothlenn, near the town of Colossea. Called the Tridianth by the locals, the avatars were immense statues of the deities Elos, Narduna, and Adonahane, holding aloft a torch that burnt with an everlasting flame. They, like many other such statues, had mysteriously appeared nearly four hundred years ago in the early days of King Gawaine the True.
The Avatars appeared in all the lands of Aethe where Elos, Narduna, and Adonahane were known and revered. But the Temple of Elos transformed in the century that followed into a monotheistic religion, and the Avatars portray the deities as equals, and thus, to King Harl and others like him, were profane. One by one, the avatars fell to the dark destructions of the zealots.
Othelius the Mourner, Chancellor of Prendor, ancient even among the Mourners, knew what few others did: that the Colossal Avatars held a powerful curse at bay. The destruction of the last remaining statue would cause a dark and powerful magic to be loosed upon the world of Aethe -- the shadow loom would begin to weave its insidious tapestry once more. And a glimmer of hope would grace the Dark Prisoner's ever watchful eye.
When reason failed to persuade the King, Othelius took drastic action. He fomented a rebellion among the King's sons, whose piety did not lead to zealotry: Patrick the Crown Prince, William the Exile, Edward the Lame, and my husband, Gideon Starlight, at whose side I stood, with Jacob, our eldest son. Half the King's provinces rebelled and war enveloped the land.
But the tide soon turned, and the King's armies marched straight for the Avatars, forsaking other targets. We marshaled our forces for one last defense of the mountain, and we waited while Dayne Turrant, Duke of Brascany, laid siege to Colossea and the Avatars. The seige was grand indeed, with many heroic skirmishes and escapes. But Othelius was convinced the town would fall.
He turned his mind toward saving the Avatars, and learned of a spell that would take them forever from the King's reach. And there, the leaders of the rebellion gathered. My husband and I and my precious son Jacob, the Crown Prince and his family, Stephen and Sean Kierny -- the two greatest generals the rebellion had -- and Sir Philippe-Emmanuel Gryne -- Prendor's most storied knight, admired by friend and foe alike -- all stood watch as Othelius brought salvation to Aethe and safety to a wonder of the world. But alas, it was not to be. At that cursed moment, we were betrayed.
Othelius' servant Braeden Hynde unexpectedly and without warning, interrupted the spell and stabbed his master in the neck. As Othelius fell, the traitor grabbed his staff. The nearest to them, I too grabbed it and we struggled. But I failed to take it from him before he could complete his treachery. He snapped the staff in two over a nearby rock. And with that act of betrayal, plunged the world into a terrible darkness.
Othelius' oaken staff, shod in iron, with inlaid runes of gold and silver, was no ordinary staff. It was one of the staves of the magi, the making of which has been forgotten since the days of the Weaver. The very wise know the true terrible power that is released when a staff of the magi is sundered, and would have known exactly how many lives would have been lost and what the consequence would be.
I believe that of all those on Mount Aothlenn that night, I alone was not killed in that blast, which destroyed the Colossal Avatars there. I survived because for some unfathomable purpose, Braeden Hynde released his grip on the staff moments before it snapped. As the last person to touch the staff, I was pulled through a dimensional rift created by those unstable magical energies surrounding it.
I found myself near the point of death in a place on the edge of time and space, a dying realm with little merit. With great regret, I tell you the first sentient beings I came upon were the illithids. Their kingdom, Ninithail, was one of the seven kingdoms that allied themselves to the Dark Prisoner so many years ago, and were banished for their treachery. Their mental powers were strange and foreign to me, and I was ill-equipped to fight them. They captured me and neutralized many of my... talents.
First the three who found me kept me for weeks on an altar of some sort, exhausting my mental defenses. Then, when I proved too resilient, they brought be back to their city. Most of the people of the city were not illithids but rather their slaves of all races. All were obsequious and reverent to my captors to my great chagrin -- I found no friends there. Only about 2000 of the city's 200,000 residents were illithids, and they gathered in the city's forbidden inner circle.
In a garden of sorts, they gathered to pay homage to a briny pool which contained the brains of their ancestors. They referred to the pool as the Elder Brain. While the illithid you saw, Kurenthis, was their leader, the Elder Brain was their god. I was tied to stake and dipped into the pool. I remember little of this. I can only surmise by this, and by subsequent observations that I do remember, that I failed to defend my mind against their powerful inquisition. The experience drove me insane.
Through my torture, they learned of the way I knew back to Aethe, and of Prendor. They learned also of the destruction of the Avatars, and what that meant for our world. They came here to escape their dying world, yes, but also for the insidious purpose of conquering the world of their origin.
Once their barrier to Aethe was lifted, they loaded their city into the Infinity Train, and brought it to the under-realms. I was kept as a prisoner to torment now and then by Kurenthis, but of late he had forgotten me. The loneliness merely fed my insanity. If you had not come to my rescue when you did, I might have been lost to the void. Once again, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Now, the Infinity Train is yours to command, so long as the Mercurial Chalice remains on the table and the genie obeys. It will go where you wish.
My talents too are at your disposal, such as they remain. My bloodline is that of the Weaver, favored by Ambira’s Loom. But Kurenthis has sundered much of my strength. I am far weaker than I once was.
As you must see from my tale, I am anxious to return to my surviving children. But from what I have gleaned through my madness, I sense the nobility of your quest and the potential for great deeds among you. I will aid you if I can.
“Tell us, surface woman,” said Vendar Prin, “How did you come to be imprisoned by this mind flayer you slew?”
“Exactly who are you, Lady of Prendor? Have you the power to control this great artifact, this Infinity Train?” Teeny demanded.
Fingus added, “Just what on Aethe are you doing here, my lady? And how do you come by such mighty and impressive talents?”
Slowly, and with the reluctance of a heavy heart, Lady Flora Harmonant of Prendor began her tale…
In the year 1398 in the Age of Faith, I was counted as a noblewoman of some influence in the surface nation of Prendor. There was some truth to that, as I am… was… married to Prince Gideon Harmonant, youngest son of King Harl Harmonant. We were blessed with eight beautiful children, six sons and two daughters. As I was the eldest remaining of my father's children, all daughters, my own children stood to inherit the province of Mystria, the feudal realm of my father. So yes, I held influence in Prendor.
But that year, a storm was brewing. The King, growing ever more concerned about his legacy as an devout Elosian, determined to rid his lands of all sacrilege. Paintings and books were burned, sculptures crushed, and the holy places of lost religions defiled. Of course, there were those who begged the king to relent and allow the great works of the ages to stand. But he would not listen.
And then the King stumbled upon the Avatars of Mount Aothlenn, near the town of Colossea. Called the Tridianth by the locals, the avatars were immense statues of the deities Elos, Narduna, and Adonahane, holding aloft a torch that burnt with an everlasting flame. They, like many other such statues, had mysteriously appeared nearly four hundred years ago in the early days of King Gawaine the True.
The Avatars appeared in all the lands of Aethe where Elos, Narduna, and Adonahane were known and revered. But the Temple of Elos transformed in the century that followed into a monotheistic religion, and the Avatars portray the deities as equals, and thus, to King Harl and others like him, were profane. One by one, the avatars fell to the dark destructions of the zealots.
Othelius the Mourner, Chancellor of Prendor, ancient even among the Mourners, knew what few others did: that the Colossal Avatars held a powerful curse at bay. The destruction of the last remaining statue would cause a dark and powerful magic to be loosed upon the world of Aethe -- the shadow loom would begin to weave its insidious tapestry once more. And a glimmer of hope would grace the Dark Prisoner's ever watchful eye.
When reason failed to persuade the King, Othelius took drastic action. He fomented a rebellion among the King's sons, whose piety did not lead to zealotry: Patrick the Crown Prince, William the Exile, Edward the Lame, and my husband, Gideon Starlight, at whose side I stood, with Jacob, our eldest son. Half the King's provinces rebelled and war enveloped the land.
But the tide soon turned, and the King's armies marched straight for the Avatars, forsaking other targets. We marshaled our forces for one last defense of the mountain, and we waited while Dayne Turrant, Duke of Brascany, laid siege to Colossea and the Avatars. The seige was grand indeed, with many heroic skirmishes and escapes. But Othelius was convinced the town would fall.
He turned his mind toward saving the Avatars, and learned of a spell that would take them forever from the King's reach. And there, the leaders of the rebellion gathered. My husband and I and my precious son Jacob, the Crown Prince and his family, Stephen and Sean Kierny -- the two greatest generals the rebellion had -- and Sir Philippe-Emmanuel Gryne -- Prendor's most storied knight, admired by friend and foe alike -- all stood watch as Othelius brought salvation to Aethe and safety to a wonder of the world. But alas, it was not to be. At that cursed moment, we were betrayed.
Othelius' servant Braeden Hynde unexpectedly and without warning, interrupted the spell and stabbed his master in the neck. As Othelius fell, the traitor grabbed his staff. The nearest to them, I too grabbed it and we struggled. But I failed to take it from him before he could complete his treachery. He snapped the staff in two over a nearby rock. And with that act of betrayal, plunged the world into a terrible darkness.
Othelius' oaken staff, shod in iron, with inlaid runes of gold and silver, was no ordinary staff. It was one of the staves of the magi, the making of which has been forgotten since the days of the Weaver. The very wise know the true terrible power that is released when a staff of the magi is sundered, and would have known exactly how many lives would have been lost and what the consequence would be.
I believe that of all those on Mount Aothlenn that night, I alone was not killed in that blast, which destroyed the Colossal Avatars there. I survived because for some unfathomable purpose, Braeden Hynde released his grip on the staff moments before it snapped. As the last person to touch the staff, I was pulled through a dimensional rift created by those unstable magical energies surrounding it.
I found myself near the point of death in a place on the edge of time and space, a dying realm with little merit. With great regret, I tell you the first sentient beings I came upon were the illithids. Their kingdom, Ninithail, was one of the seven kingdoms that allied themselves to the Dark Prisoner so many years ago, and were banished for their treachery. Their mental powers were strange and foreign to me, and I was ill-equipped to fight them. They captured me and neutralized many of my... talents.
First the three who found me kept me for weeks on an altar of some sort, exhausting my mental defenses. Then, when I proved too resilient, they brought be back to their city. Most of the people of the city were not illithids but rather their slaves of all races. All were obsequious and reverent to my captors to my great chagrin -- I found no friends there. Only about 2000 of the city's 200,000 residents were illithids, and they gathered in the city's forbidden inner circle.
In a garden of sorts, they gathered to pay homage to a briny pool which contained the brains of their ancestors. They referred to the pool as the Elder Brain. While the illithid you saw, Kurenthis, was their leader, the Elder Brain was their god. I was tied to stake and dipped into the pool. I remember little of this. I can only surmise by this, and by subsequent observations that I do remember, that I failed to defend my mind against their powerful inquisition. The experience drove me insane.
Through my torture, they learned of the way I knew back to Aethe, and of Prendor. They learned also of the destruction of the Avatars, and what that meant for our world. They came here to escape their dying world, yes, but also for the insidious purpose of conquering the world of their origin.
Once their barrier to Aethe was lifted, they loaded their city into the Infinity Train, and brought it to the under-realms. I was kept as a prisoner to torment now and then by Kurenthis, but of late he had forgotten me. The loneliness merely fed my insanity. If you had not come to my rescue when you did, I might have been lost to the void. Once again, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Now, the Infinity Train is yours to command, so long as the Mercurial Chalice remains on the table and the genie obeys. It will go where you wish.
My talents too are at your disposal, such as they remain. My bloodline is that of the Weaver, favored by Ambira’s Loom. But Kurenthis has sundered much of my strength. I am far weaker than I once was.
As you must see from my tale, I am anxious to return to my surviving children. But from what I have gleaned through my madness, I sense the nobility of your quest and the potential for great deeds among you. I will aid you if I can.
posted by Abram | 11:14 PM
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