Mairwen

Mairwen shows Sigurd their new base of operations. The tour is interrupted by an unexpected guest.

Sigurd stared around the immense underground chasm he found himself in. It was built like a fortress, with a series of defenses leading into the inner sanctum. As Mairwen stepped in from the temple prayer room and closed the secret entrance behind her a series of blue lights began to glow throughout the chamber. The chasm burned with an ethereal glimmer that covered the basalt-like rock everything seemed to be built from. Sigurd shook his head in disbelief.

“Why on earth did you build all of this?”

Mairwen laughed. “Gwelladur was incredibly paranoid. When he was first put in charge of the artifacts there was still knowledge and rumors of their existence here. Even when that faded to legend he never let down his guard.”

“But to build all this?”

Sigurd ran his hand along the smooth rock wall as he passed deeper into the chasm. Several smaller rooms led to a large library that stood at the center of the chasm, towering up to the ceiling. Immediately Sigurd felt the presence of magic. Looking at the books he recognized many of them from the library he used to visit in his own home.

“This is most impressive,” said Sigurd, picking up one of the books. “But how did Gwelladur manage to create this place in secrecy?”

“It wasn’t easy,” said Mairwen. “But you’d be amazed what the right combination of spells can do when planned out carefully.”

“I wouldn’t be amazed,” said Sigurd. “Impressed perhaps, but not amazed. These past few years of studying the artifacts have left little room for amazement.”

Mairwen frowned. “The artifacts have caused a lot of suffering.”

“They always have, since they were first crafted.” Sigurd put down the book and began searching through the library. “Some of them were built for suffering. There is good reason that Anora is remembered how she is, even to those who have forgotten these artifacts ever existed.”

“Do you really think they can be destroyed?”

“All of the research we did as Lore Masters suggests that, yes. They can be. But only when they are all brought together.” Sigurd picked up an ancient looking tome with strange Elven runes carved into its cover. “Have you ever heard of binding?”

“You mean what holds a book together?”

“No,” Sigurd smiled. “Binding of objects. It is a very powerful form of magic where an object’s physical form and existence are bound to the others. In order to destroy one of the bound objects you would have to destroy all of them.”

“I’d heard Gwelladur mention something like that when he told me of his research. But he was always more focused on the planes.” Mairwen pointed to a small collection of books set apart on a bookcase that had intricate carvings of creatures adorning its edges. “He always said the planes were the key to the artifacts.”

“And it would appear he was right.” Sigurd knelt by the bookcase, studying each book. “From what Aldric has told me the planes are exactly what drove the creation of the artifacts in the first place.”

“But so little is known of the planes,” said Mairwen. “We can’t even be sure they exist.”

“I think you’ll find we can,” said Sigurd. “But more research certainly needs done. In fact, right now a friend of mine is in the Mountain Elf lands excavating the very location it is believed that Anora first created the artifacts…”

Suddenly a whirring ring began echoing through the library.

Mairwen tensed, her whole body looking like it was on full alert. “That’s not good.”

“What is it?” Sigurd stood. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s the alarm system Gwelladur built in. It means someone’s in the temple, and they’re nearing the entrance to the chasm.”

“But how is that possible?” said Sigurd. “Unless…”

Mairwen looked at him. “You said they would hunt you down.”

“So I did.” Sigurd frowned. “But even I never thought the Watchers were that good.”

“Yet it would seem they are.”

“Come on.” Sigurd began running back towards the entrance. “I’m not going to be surprised this time. If they’re going to take me out it won’t be without a fight.”

Mairwen and Sigurd raced back to the entrance. On the other side of the door they could hear scuffling and muffled chatter. Sigurd raised his hands, preparing a spell.

“Ready?” asked Mairwen.

“Ready.”

With a shout Sigurd and Mairwen burst into the temple prayer room, spells at the ready. A timid looking priest cringed back in terror as a tall uniformed Elf drew his sword in surprise.

“Whoa now, slow down.” The uniformed Elf moved in front of the priest. “Let’s not hurt anyone now.”

Sigurd lowered his hands. “You’re… you’re one of the Forest Elf Queen’s messengers, aren’t you?”

The Elf smiled. “Glad to know the Queen’s arms are still recognized.”

The temple priest bowed before Mairwen. “I’m so sorry mistress. This messenger was looking for you and Sigurd on important business from the Queen. I just thought you’d like to know. Please forgive me.”

Mairwen sighed. “We’ll… talk later.”

“So you are Mairwen and Sigurd then?” The Elf looked them over carefully. “If this is so, I carry with me an important summons for you from the Queen of the Forest.”

“A summons?” Sigurd frowned. “That is most unusual.”

The Elf handed him a scroll, sealed with the royal symbol of the Forest Elves. Sigurd opened the scroll and studied it. Mairwen moved beside him, reading over his shoulder.

“It says you and I are to represent the Lore Masters.” Mairwen shook her head. “How did they even find out that I was a Lore Master?”

“I’m not sure,” said Sigurd. “But I’m sure we’ll find out. In the meantime I think we should put our work here on hold to attend this summons.”

“Why?”

“A summons like this has not been held for many, many years. The last one to take place would have been when Gwelladur was very young, before I was even born.” Sigurd tucked the scroll in his cloak. “All of those that we might hope to have help us destroy these artifacts will be there.”

“Shall I tell the Queen you are coming then?” asked the Elf.

“No need,” said Sigurd. “I’m sure we’ll arrive long before you…”