Kizár Elená Durin · @SilmarilNaro
16th Feb 2015 from TwitLonger
Quest-verse: The Veiled City
After http://www.twitlonger.com/show/n_1skk0o2
Ost-In-Edhil reminds Kíli, Kizár, and Lossanárë of Veil Tears in Thedas.
@Morgulwarrior (Jircanor) @SilmarilNaro @SilmarilAndrast @LordoftheReach @SonofDari
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Jircanor
The city was all the chronicles claimed and then some, or so Jircanor thought while he was carefully traversing the outskirts of what once had been the wall defenses. If these ruins were any indication to the Noldorin's art of building fortresses long ago, then many a story from the elder days made much more sense.
While this was hardly Jircanor's first time in the western lands, he had never come close to Ost-in-Edhil before, and in a way his return to the western lands made him feel... strange. Like he still was that youth from long ago, searching for something he could barely name, hurt enough to try in earnest what stronger men of his kind had given up upon, and learning on that journey that hate was a dangerous fuel to draw on. Sometimes when he looked back, he wondered where that youth had died, and where the man he was now had been born. Even as all this lay long behind him.
He shook his head, there was no use in being pensive. He had taken the lessons of the past well to heart, having discarded his armor and weapons, anything that was made in the east. What he wore now, were the things he had possessed long ago, when his first journey had ended: a rough leather tunic, made somewhere in the north, chainmail armor he had pulled off a nighty attacker who's name he had never learned and the sword that dwarf had made for him, after Jír had saved his life from a coldwyrm. Only his deeper tan could not be made vanish, or the violet tinge of his irises. He had even let his long hair fall open, held back by two thin braids, a style that the northern Númenorans seemed to have adopted from the elves. As long as he was careful when he spoke Westron, he could hide what he truly was quite well.
Until last night he had wondered if he wasn't overdoing it. He wasn't that lost youngster any more... but then he had witnessed the burial taking place on a hill outside the city. A group of travelers had buried a skeleton with honors - making a real effort at it. Jír had hidden in the grass and listened in, picking up that the dwarf skeleton they buried belonged to someone of greater import. Who knew who he had been, and how he had died? The fact that the strangers took the time to honor a fallen warrior might appeal to Jír's sensibilities, but it also put a cringe into his plans.
He had hoped to scout the city quietly, and with time to figure out how to enter it and to find the one who resided here. And getting through the wall of nightmares - the veil that hid the city partially - was not an easy thing. Whatever Jaerindar had done when he stormed the city, he had done it well. Jír could guess to which dark places the long fallen hero's soul had reached to pull this off, and in a way he felt, that Jaerindar too would deserve the honor of a burial. But with strangers traipsing around here, searching for the Darkness knew what, Jír was forced to be careful.
He snuck through the ruins, watchful for them as much as for the traces he could see. There had to be an entrance into the city, each wall of Nightmares had one. Jír knew he could find it, if he had the time... like always time was of the essence.
Kizár
Kizár took a deep breath as Russandol lead them around the border of the the pall that lay over the city. They had to go on foot, leading their horses as it was not easy to sense the point he had spotted that would allow them through - to enter from any other point was to run the risk of going against the dark magic. Kizár and Lossanárë were keeping the horses calm, but they would have to find a place the leave them before too long.
Kizár was grateful that they had taken the time to bury Thoraine. While Kíli did not want to allow himself to be too connected to that body, it helped Kizár put a marker that, her mind, more represented Thoraine's predecessor than Thoraine himself. Kélan had never had a grave, having gone into the Deep Roads, only a note in the Warden records in Ferelden.
Kizár knew Lossanárë was watching her, knew Lossanárë was concerned over the resurgence of old pain as well. All Kizár could offer her sister was a sad smile and an assurance she would recover soon.
Russandol
There was a clear sense of a path through the haze the ancient magic had left on this place. It had taken Maitimo several days to find it, but now he could sense it quite clearly. As they traversed the ruins, he cast a glance to Kizár, and Lossanárë. Kizár had been quiet and hurting at the burial, and he knew not what he could do to aid her. He understood that burying Thoraine meant for her to lay another friend to rest - one who had never lived in Arda - yet, the hurt of it was still there. Kíli was supportive of her, more worried about her pain than about his own former body, or maybe worrying about Kizár distracted him well enough.
Maitimo stopped, waiting for the others to catch up. "The path is through there..." he pointed towards an ancient archway. His eyes went to Kizár again. "Will you be alright?" He wished he knew how to help her with this - for whatever awaited them inside the city, it would all too easily open other wounds.
Jircanor
The group had to traipse around here, Jír thought, ducking behind the remains of a wall. He had a sense where to go, but unfortunately so did they. He was not sure what they were up to, but he'd watch... and hope they would move on.
Kizár
"I will be alright." Kizár said, trying to sound reassuring. "I needed to mourn, now I can find a way to recover." She gave him a small smile. "Let's go on in. I think it will do me good to do something more positive."
Russandol
Maitimo gave her a gentle squeeze of the arm, before turning again to their path. He had the feeling that they were being watched, but this city seemed to stare at them out of empty eyes, he could not rely on his senses here, like he usually did.
Kíli
Kíli remained close to Kizár, even as his eyes scanned the ruins carefully. There was a sense of familiarity he could not shake off, though he tried to ignore it. 'Focus' he thought to himself 'worries and pains have no room on a battlefield.' It helped, a little. Carefully he kept at Kizár's back, as they approached the archway, that led into the fallen streets of the city.
Lossanárë
Lossanárë looked at the city with a measure of trepidation. There was something in it that left her cold and made her lock up her shields tight. When they had first came into view of the ruins, days ago, she had felts something trying to pull at Maferath, drag him away from her. It made her wary, keeping an eye on everything, even behind them. She kept thinking something was moving behind them, but could not see anything. Either her mind, influenced by the pall on the city, was playing tricks or... She shook her head and kept behind Russandol as they approached the gate.
Russandol
There was a cool breeze coming from the gate, it seemed almost too normal - a cool wind emerging from the ruins. Only that it was not, there was a darkness, a shadow lying on the city, that made Maitimo shiver. It was not the darkness of Thangorodrim, nor the darkness he had felt in the presence of the Shadow itself, it was a darkness that came from a rift, a tear in the fabric of the world, like whatever had destroyed the city had torn through reality itself and opened this city to an echo of the void. A heartbreaking sadness went with the feeling. He raised his hand to touch the air in the archway, and he could almost see the path through the maze. Taking a deep breath he walked on, and into the city.
Jircanor
Crouched behind a boulder Jircanor was not sure what to think - not only had the strangers found the pathway into the city, their leader also was someone that should not walk this good earth. At first he had thought he was in error - but seeing the red-headed elf, missing the right hand, there was no room for error. A legend - a great and terrible legend had just stepped into the light of the day. Jír bit his lip as he stifled a smile. Now it was more than a challenge, it was an encounter with more than one legend and while he felt a bit of trepidation at the thought of having to tangle with this elf, he could not help feeling somewhat excited too.
Ducking behind the rubble he snuck after them, they had found a way into the city - though he doubted they fully understood the trap this city represented to those not knowledgeable to what had transpired here.
Kizár
As they walked further in, Kizár found herself biting her lip. Something here felt... familiar. Similar, if not the same as something she had experienced before. She looked at Kíli as she tried to work out what she was feeling, trying to keep her mind on the present. For some reason the memories of Kélan refused to leave and her mind kept bringing back the mental image of him in new Warden armour. When did he get that armour? The armour he wore to the Landsmeet had been found in the hidden cache in Denerim and it was the style at that time, not showing the later improvements that had been spread not long before they left on her quest for a cure.
"Blackmarsh." She murmured the name. "This reminds me of Blackmarsh."
Kíli
"Strange, it made me think more of the deep roads," Kíli replied softly, though he understood why she would think of the Marshes north of Amaranthine. He moved so that he was beside her, tentatively taking her hand. "It is the sadness - the loss we both sense." he said softly. "All that was lost, fallen into shadow." When had he said that to her? Something like that he said... somewhere in the crazy events down in the deeps of Orzammar, when he had first met Elenaria Surana, when he had known that he'd go with her no matter where it would lead him.
A cool gust of wind touched them and he looked around. Was this a ghost - an apparition that hovered near the broken well down the road. "Could it be..." he bit back the words, the thought was too stupid to voice out loud.
Kizár
"I will give you that, though I think it's a for a similar reason." Kizár murmured, watching the apparition. "I was more thinking of what I said a few days ago about this place, it feels like a Veil Tear, but usually Tears were made in places of psychic disturbance and had a lot of sadness or pain around them."
Her eyes were drawn to another lost spirit she spotted, which made her frown as it seemed to be watching them - no, more like watching her sister, something that made Kizár look to Lossanárë and take note of how pale she was, and how she seemed to be concentrating hard.
Lossanárë
Lossanárë caught the look from her sister and could only shake her head. She needed to keep shielding, the further they went to more it seemed to try and pull at her.
"What could it be, Kíli?"
Kíli
Kíli looked up at Lossanárë, she reminded him much of a Queen, a Lady. "I wondered... I wondered if it could be a tear reaching into the Fade," he said softly. "That we feel it so familiar because it is... it is something we encountered before, in other places. And it makes me wonder what kind of creatures might lurk in this place."
Lossanárë
"The spirit world here does not work the same way it does in Thedas but..." Lossanárë frown in thought for a moment. "We made it across whatever separates this world from Thedas, not once but twice. Maybe, if what was done here reached far enough, it could bridge that gap as well, being some sort of bridge straight into the Fade, if not all the way through into Thedas as well."
Kíli
"Who knows where the Fade and the Grey touch?" Kíli said thoughtfully. "We better be careful. Thankfully Elenaria... Kizár knows more about the Fade than anyone else, she'll know when danger is close." This was Kélan talking, and he knew it, trusting that Elenaria knew her way in and out of all the troubles they had been into.
Jircanor
Having hidden behind a broken wall, Jircanor listened to their conversation. Not all made sense - but some assumptions on the nature of the rift here, were quite fascinating. He resigned himself to stay still, and hidden, while they conversed.
Lossanárë
"And she can currently stay more open." Lossanárë added. "I am having to shield quite heavily. This place is trying to pull Maferath from me." She winced slightly as she felt another such tug on her spirit.
Kizár
Kizár could only nod as she caught the wince that went through her sister. She could feel the way the currents in the place were brushing by her as well, but they seemed to pass without catching on anything. "I just hope we don't run into demons of the Fade though, it's bad enough knowing there are fëar trapped here, I would rather not put up with that as well." She murmured as Russandol stopped to take bearings for a moment.
Russandol
Maitimo gently reached for Lossanárë's shoulder. "If it gets too much, we can go back - I think I could force a way for you back through that shield." he said firmly. "I will not see you harmed in this place."
Kíli
Kíli's hand fell to the blade on his back. "If they show up here, we'll deal with them." he said firmly, determined to protect Kizár.
Lossanárë
"No, we need to carry on, do what we came to do and leave as soon as we can." Lossanárë let herself lean into Maitimo's touch, despite the firmness in her tone. "I feel we need to do this even more now, to get him out of this... hole in everything that makes the world normal." She said in a softer tone. "I just hope his sanity is still intact, after being here for so long..."
Russandol
Maitimo smiled at her, not quite letting go as they walked on through the silent streets, the buildings were partially destroyed and partially too well preserved. There were no bones, that he could see, but fea slowly appearing and fading in the streets. The sadness echoing from the stones was soul-crushing. Sometimes he looked to Kíli, who seemed to have a better orientation of the place and the dwarf would point out the direction they ought to go.
Jircanor
Jír had used their debate to move ahead, past them and away from their direct hearing range. It had not been easy, but them being distracted had helped a lot. He traversed the city towards the very heart - the place below the former palace. A statue stood in the square still, depicting an elven warrior with his blade raised. But that was not what drew his attention, but the bones, lying beneath the statue. It was the first corpse he came across in this city. Stretched out on the ground, parts of the armor still in place, and the blade at had impaled him still protruding from the chest armor. The armor as black with silver engravings, ancient and old-fashioned, in a style and form that no one would make these days any more.
To Jircanor there was a presence to this corpse, like an echo brushing past him, like something present that he could not see - or needed more time to see. He knelt down beside the dead man, carefully examining what he could see, though in his heart he already knew what he had found.
Lossanárë
As Kíli pointed their way more towards the right of what looked like a smaller version of the palace in Tirion, Lossanárë stopped, looking up the street that headed to the left. Maybe it was only another ghost, but she had thought she had seen something move up that way that seemed more solid. Glancing at the other she shook her head. They needed to keep moving, to reach Telpë.
Kíli
Kíli walked through the streets with the constant echo in his mind, he knew this place, he had been here before, he had walked these streets and walked up to the palace, many times. Now that he was here again, the echo of those thoughts was sad. Looking around, he pointed towards a stairwell. "Up there and through the archway, it leads down towards the inner yard and the entrance of the underground forges."
Kizár
Kizár could not help but smile. They were close to their goal now, close to Telpë and getting away from here once and for all. She rested a hand on Kíli's arm, glad that his past-life memories had helped guide them through here. "Let's go then, go see our Pityanillë."
Kíli
Kíli smiled at the nickname, "Little Silver," it created an entirely different picture from the one he had in mind - from the one that had the names "Cel" or "Khandaras" in his memories, a lighter name and a name that made him feel a bit protective. "Then let us find him." he said, leading Kizár up the long flight of stairs, that seemed to lead into the palace, before a more hidden set of stairs spiraled down behind a wall and towards a doorway leading under the earth.
Kizár
The stairs were a tight spiral, and made Kizár feel a bit giddy for it and she was glad to reach the door they lead to. She could spot off to the sides passages that led to other rooms - storerooms? Cellars? It seemed a bit like some of the warrens in Cardemir, not all of which became so to avoid unstable rock either.
She turned from her curiosity as Kíli managed to get open another doorway, opening up to a room that had signs of lighting - both the flicker of fire-light and the whiter shine of crystal lamps.
Lossanárë
As she stepped into the room after her sister, Lossanárë looked around, taking in the details. In many ways the equipment, the fires, water barrels, even the anvil reminded her strongly of the forges she once knew in Valinor. Methods first worked out there all came through and were put into use when this place was set up. She could not help walk around, letting fingers brush over the benches, over the hammer that sat on the anvil. "I feel I should expect Curvo to come around the corner instead of his son." She murmured softly.
Kíli
Kíli looked at her, as they crossed the upper forges. "I think there was a strong memory with him, when he planned this place.", he replied. "He once said it was a place to remind of home..." The upper forges were empty, but that was no real surprise. Carefully he went to the wall at the back, fingers finding the hidden mechanism like he had been here only yesterday.
Stone scraped on stone as a door into the deeper parts opened. Kíli's heart stood almost still when he entered the arcane forge - the memories of this place where overwhelming, and the aura - the powerful singing aura of this place had not changed. He bit down on his lip to stifle any sound that may rise in his throat - for the arcane forge looked untouched, clean... like it had never been abandoned.
Kizár
The feel of this place... it was more than anything Kizár had felts for quite a while. Even Kíli's forge in Cardemir was not like this, but then part of that she knew was because the Deep Stone in Cardemir was weak and tired. She stepped carefully, feeling almost like she was walking somewhere sacred. That thought made her glance Lossanárë's way as it brought to mind the temple of the Sacred Ashes. Lossanárë however was already crouching near the anvil, looking at it's base. She looked up and waved Kizár over, pointing at the spot where a bright silver-coloured chain was anchored.
"So, which end does the key open?"
Kíli
"The other end," Kíli had squatted down beside the anvil, where the Mithril chain was anchored. "it opens the shackle..." He could sense the malevolent genius that was in that chain - and he knew Thoraine had understood the theory behind it, even when he had faked being too stupid to quite grasp it. This room - it held memories, too many of them.
Pushing himself to his feet Kíli's gaze followed the chain into the darkness. "We need to go there - it leads to the other parts of the underground workshop."
Lossanárë
Lossanárë stood, not letting go of the chain but letting it run through her fingers as she moved. With her shields locked so tight she could barely feel the arcane impressions the chain's magic gave but could tell it was cruel with a strong sense of smug pride. Well Annatar's pride would once again be broken today, and if her sister went ahead with her own plans for the chain itself, it would be unraveled in fire and turned into something totally against the fallen Maia.
Kíli
Kíli followed his own instincts as he moved through the hallway, he knew the way, he knew the stones around him, and he could not push the memories back any more - nor did he really want to. They were his guiding light down here.
Another open space opened before them - the hall held workbenches for different tasks, stools, chests... and was lit by a crystal lamp standing on the main workbench. In the light of the lamp Kíli saw the tall, thin figure of an elf standing by the workbench. How many... how many of his kind had dared to come here, to find the great crafter? How many had stood here, half afraid and certainly awed? Many. But to him, this was a different sight, the sight of someone he knew... had known and cared about.
The elf's eyes fell on him and widened. "Thoraine..." the word was only a whispered as the elf took a step back, like retreating from him.
It was the word that broke whatever dams Kíli had erected inside his soul, without hesitation he bridged the gap between them. "I am here, Cel," he said firmly. "your family is here... they are here to bring you home."
Kizár
"Telpë...?" Kizár felt a bit shy, knowing she was currently shaped as dwarf and as one who looked very like Kíli as well. She tentatively reached out with her mind, brushing his spirit with a light touch at first. "We've found you Pityanillë, we will see you free and safe..." She murmured reaching out a hand to touch him, fingers moving to trace over the seemingly featureless cuff around his wrist.
Kíli
Kíli could see how Cel's eyes widened as he looked at Kizár and then there were tears shining in his eyes as he very gingerly touched her hair with his frail hand. "Aunt 'Naria?" he asked softly. "How..." The words died on his lips when he saw Kizár's sister behind her.
Lossanárë
"A little silver star, in the night sky, dancing in the darkness, way up high." Lossanárë said, speaking in soft musical Quenya as she let go of the chain and came over to Telpë's side. "I can't open myself up right now, the way this city presses on me, it would steal my other half if I am not on guard." She spoke softly as she slipped an arm around Telpë's terribly thin frame, encouraging him to lean on her.
Telpë
Telpë embraced her tightly, recognizing the aunt he had called Losá as a child, when he had been too young to speak her true name, before she was lost to them in that terrible night. "Not here," he said in a hush. "these halls, they are safe, they do not have the same pull as the tear outside. I.... I would have long relinquished my fëa had it been different."
Maitimo had entered too, but held back, leaving their young silver child to his beloved aunts at first, not because he did not care, but because they would be easier on dealing with him in his wounded state.
Lossanárë
Though she was still a bit concerned, Lossanárë let her shields open up a bit, enough to let Telpë feel her on a spiritual level. Maferath still stayed behind her inner defenses, but an aware mind would find it easy enough to sense the edges of the bonds that indicated he was there. The Elves of Valinor always knew when someone was bonded and the signs were just as much there in Lossanárë as any other.
Kizár
Kizár gently prompted Telpë over to a seat where all three could sit, a slightly awkward move to negotiate as he did not want to let go of Lossanárë. That thought made her smile, she had no idea when he last had company of an aspiring smith, and now two of his aunts were here? Of course he deserved to hug as much as he could!
"We were hoping you would like to come with us when we head for the islands off the Forlindon coast. I heard a tale in Imladris about the Lady of Himring Island and I think you might find somewhere a lot more comfortable there." She spoke in Sindarin as she settled next to him, curling into his side.
Telpë
Telpë curled an arm around her, holding onto her, onto both of them. "I wish..." he said softly. "I wish I could come with you. The chain that holds me here cannot be broken, and it cannot be opened except by a secret of it's maker." He shook his head. "He... he made sure I could not leave, not even in death."
Kíli squatted down beside the sitting elf, looking up at him. Between his two aunts he seemed more alive, and... belonging. Maybe this was what Cel had truly missed all those years, what he had sought in others... "There is a key, even to this shackle," he said with a small smile. "I only regret it did not reach you sooner."
Cel's eyes widened as he looked at him. "The puzzle key... but you... Thoraine... you never understood the..." his voice trailed off. "You lied." the words were incredulous. "You lied..."
Kíli could feel a lot of conflicting emotions inside himself, things that were the past, things that were now. "Yes, he lied." he replied eventually. "I lied. I pretended to be stupid, but all that is in the past."
Kizár
"Sometimes even lies can be used for good." Kizár spoke quietly, rubbing a hand up Telpë's back. "This one I think is one such case, is it not? Though even if the key did not exist, my fire, concentrated on the chain, would tear it apart, though I am glad not to have to go that way, I don't know how well I could have kept the fire from hurting you."
Telpë
Telpë leaned into her embrace, grateful she was here, that she was with him. "You are right, like always." he said, still marveling at her appearance as a very cute dwarrow - and one that looked tellingly like the clan of one certain dwarf, who was busy with unlocking the shackle.
Kíli
Kíli smiled up at them, when the shackle opened, melting the puzzle key, as it opened the bindings, he swiftly pulled the chain away before it close again. In a strange, odd way, he felt closure at this moment, and glad that Cel had found his family again.