Player Plot: The Brecilian Ruins

[mythalenaste]

WHO: Merrill, Ruby, and Pel
WHAT: Researching werewolves and elves at the Brecilian Ruins
WHEN: Early Firstfall
WHERE: The Brecilian Forest
NOTES: Warning for ghosts. Boo.

Comments

[mythalenaste]

Pel looks faintly worried, for obvious reasons. As much pain as there was in the spirit, it could still prove treacherous.

To show what it means, the spirit channels a flash of imagery into Merril's mind--no, more than imagery. Memory. Smell of woodsmoke, touch of steel, burn of muscles as they hold a form with a sword, channeling magic inward. But the self of the spirit remains in the phylactery.

[chainlightning]

Well. That's something. Merrill almost coughs at the sudden smell of smoke, even though it's only in her mind.

"It can show us its memories," she says, once the shock (and awe, if she's being honest) has worn off. "I- would you like to try?"

[mythalenaste]

Pel's eyes widen. She's having to wrack her mind to come up with dirth'ena enasalin at all, for a moment, but if it is lost, it does not matter what it is. She trusts Merrill, and Merrill is offering it. She holds out her hand to receive the phylactery.

"What knowledge is it which leads to victory?" she asks quietly. "What does it want to show us?"

[chainlightning]

There is a breath. This is important, if she's correct. Learning it, preserving its way is important -- and helping this spirit is important, also.

"You have seen what humans call the path of the Arcane Warrior, correct? Where they use magic and physical combat together? I think- I think the People developed it, first. It feels something like that."

[mythalenaste]

"Like Knight-Enchanters?" Pel hesitates, but her mind races on. "If it knows a lost discipline, could it teach us more about ancient elves? Maybe we can...Merrill. What if we took it with us?"

[chainlightning]

"Yes- and maybe? I don't know how much it knows, or how long it can last... It's been here so long."

She looks back down at the vial and gently strokes it, again. Poor dead elf. :c

"I mean- I suppose I wouldn't be very good at it, so unless you wanted to learn it, we would have to."

[mythalenaste]

"I...do want to learn." Pel is practically salivating, thinking about gaining knowledge directly from an ancient elf. "More than anything. But...what if we still took it back? What if we could question it and learn about our people from it?"

It sounds incredibly cruel, but maybe they could make the spirit comfortable. Maybe they could...she doesn't know what.

[chainlightning]

"We have to ask it," Merrill says after a moment, firmly. "It's up to it."

Again, she focuses on the vial, directs her thoughts to it.

The culture of the People is almost lost. My friend wants to know if you could share with us anything you know, anything you remember. She will learn what you have to teach her, and we will share it with others so that your gift to us is remembered.

She wants to ask you questions, bring you back with us to where we are living, but I don't think that's necessary. It's up to you, hahren.

[mythalenaste]

I know only what they drilled into me, is the jist of what the spirit sends back. I know the way of the knowledge that leads to victory. I have forgotten the names of my family, the names of places or the shapes of words. Everything but what I was taught never to forget.

[chainlightning]

Do you know who drilled it into you? Merrill asks, right before looking back at Pel and shaking her head.

"Everything but the Way has been lost, forgotten. I'm seeing if I can can get a little more, but... there's no reason for it to lie when it could gain from tempting us with knowledge."

[mythalenaste]

Pel looks momentarily disappointed, but there is no point to remaining so. The spirit offers everything it can, asking for nothing more than it already has. The decision is sealed, then. She holds out her hand.

"I will learn," she says quietly. "Everything it can teach me. And I will release it."

[chainlightning]

Merrill smiles at her, soft, grateful. Pel's resolve is passed on to the spirit, and then she hands over the vial.

"Good luck, lethallan," she murmurs, just before it's out of her touch.