Melhed/Agyrian Acedemy/Terriad/Age of Shadow/Timeline/Scrollsong

Letter from Soren Navaar

Message sent to Everyone on Beluaterra

The last portal Soren had been present for was Keffa. Staring at the great beam of light for days had stirred many memories he wished he could suppress. (Mostly that awful performance he put on in front of a number of rulers.) Still, it had been an educational day, and so for another day he sat and waited for something, anything, to happen. Day became night and then another new day broke, and once more Soren took a seat and watched. It had become like an obsession to watch the portal, as if some new daimon or creature would spill forth and destroy what little humanity still held. The event in Keffa had been attributed to music, and today he started keeping a lute nearby. Silently, he wished Wren were back. The pair had made a performance that triggered a massive healing event throughout Keffa. (Maybe it wasn't so bad.) Would that it could be over so simply. War was ravaging the lands as the dwindling human realms struggled for purchase and honor, and there was little room for growth without a mess of alliances and grudges. Words from a previous night continued to tickle the back of his mind, but his thoughts his perception was disjointed, and unable to focus let alone train for what might happen. With a long sigh, Soren began to hum a tune he liked from his childhood, something to focus on. Think, he told himself. Music affects magic. The portals are tied to magic, or so I believe. He recalled the stranger's song to heal the area. It seemed like nonsense, but maybe there was something more there. Then there was old Aldo... What did the old man say again? Something about the Blight... Each thought started creating a puzzle, one with no number of parts, and many ways to mess it up. "Oldred," he called out to his captain. The mill was turning in his mind and something was coming together. "Yes, sir?" The captain had been with him since his days in Obia'Syela, and was a reliable to almost a fault after all this time. He was older, and in some ways a better field commander than he would ever hope to be, which is why he knew this was the right person to go to. "Do you know if we have one of the Pre-Blight maps on hand?" Soren asked, reaching over to his lute at last. A simple nod was all he got as he heard the Captain leaving, and that was perfectly fine for Soren. The man would look, and Soren began picturing what he could remember of the old drawings of the north and what was lost. The first note he plucked rang out in the air unopposed. Oldred would return. In the meantime, Soren began trying to figure out what kind of song would return the lost lands around Thalmarkin and Ar Agyr, starting with the closest region, the city of Lin Helon.

Soren Navaar (Count of Seven Rivers)

Letter from Gods

Message sent to Everyone on Beluaterra

Scrollsong For over a week, the column of light shines forth in Gor Ault steady and clear. After the first couple of days, the locals shrug and go about their business, merely putting some extra cloth over the windows to ensure they can sleep at night. When the change comes, it is subtle, and most don't even notice it. At first, it is nothing more than the faintest humming in the air, sounding like insects some distance off. As the eighth day wears on, the humming becomes clearer and more localized: it is definitely louder near some of the nobles and more adventurous commoners in the region. By the dawn of the ninth day, the humming has spread, and now follows people in several regions near Gor Ault, as well. It has also begun to sound much more pleasing, no longer a simple droning hum, but resolving into clear tones. Furthermore, it is becoming more obvious, as the sound becomes more and more localized, why it has chosen the particular people it has to hum near: the humming is the most intense near scrolls, and the more scrolls, the louder it gets. Each type of scroll seems to produce a different tone, and the effect when certain combinations are together is a lovely blended harmony.

Gods (of Beluaterra)

Letter from Gods

Message sent to Everyone on Beluaterra

Scrollstrike As dusk falls, the setting sun seems to bathe the sky in red. It almost seems as if it's even tinting the pillar of light red... ....Wait. The pillar of light is turning red. Just as the last sliver of the sun sinks below the horizon, the light flares an angry, bloody color, and begins sending off sparks and crackles of energy. Occasionally, the bolts of energy fall near people, and when they do, strange things seem to happen. Then the light begins to pulse like a slow, crimson heartbeat.

Gods (of Beluaterra)

Letter from Gods

Message sent to Everyone on Beluaterra

Scrollspeed Though at first it is impossible to tell, it gradually becomes clear that the pulsing of the beam of light in Gor Ault is slowly increasing in tempo. After observing the light and taking careful measurements, several learned scribes and natural philosophers sagely inform the people that at the current rate of increase, the pulsing will be at a pace so fast it is imperceptible by roughly midnight.

Gods (of Beluaterra)

Letter from Gods

Message sent to Everyone on Beluaterra

Scrollsplosion As predicted, the pulsing from the light beam at the site of the portal stones in Gor Ault has now become so rapid that individual pulses can no longer be made out. At the same time, the brightness of the vermilion glow is now such that the land for many miles around seems to be in daylight—albeit a terrifying, blood-drenched daylight. As the midnight bell strikes, the beacon of light flares even brighter with a massive surge of power—then bursts with blinding light, that spreads in a wave rippling outward from Gor Ault. Within minutes, it has crossed half the continent...and in its wake, scrolls explode with power, releasing their magic wildly and wantonly.

Gods (of Beluaterra)

Letter from Gods

Message sent to Everyone on Beluaterra with a Scroll

Scroll Activates You are going about your business when you notice a strange buzzing sensation from the scrolls in your pack. You quickly open it up, and one scroll is starting to glow. The scroll flares with power, and a sickly greyish-green haze spreads out over the granaries. Maggots begin to breed, and eat, and the food begins to decay. Within minutes, 89 bushels have rotted away.

Gods (of Beluaterra)

Letter from Soren Navaar

Message sent to Everyone on Beluaterra

It was like holding a stack of candles while they burned down, waiting to see if you would get hit by it. First he had tried harmonizing the scrolls in a way that promoted a good melody. Then he tried playing along with them on his instrument, but that failed. Now, in the early hours of the dawn, the portal was just a beam of light, the pulsing power only distinguishable by the faintest dimming that thrice trained eyes had difficulty viewing. Sleep had barely been an option, so a forced rest gave him the energy to be up and about after a late night of pondering and observing, still waiting to be burned. A part of him was glad that Nerta was not here for this, the part that wanted to protect the Sennex, yet facing possible doom as magics fire off around them, he couldn't help wishing they were together facing it. It was the slow footsteps grounded in fear that brought Soren back to reality for the first time in days. The adventurer Rin was taking nervous steps forward, clutching what looked to be a scroll in her hands. "Rin, are you okay?" The adventurer shook her head, the fluffy mop of mahogany hair danced in front of her face. "I'm scared," she mumbled, reaching for her pocket and then pulling back. "But I have to do something... I have to... Can't let..." She trailed off into incoherent phrases. "Rin, what are you doing?" Soren insisted she answer, but the girl fell to her knees and began to open the scroll.

Soren Navaar (Count of Seven Rivers)

Letter from Gods

Message sent to Everyone on Beluaterra

Aftermath In the wake of the beacon's detonation at midnight, Gor Ault's skies remained blessedly dark. As the people of Beluaterra started to clean up the mess left by the unnatural activation of so many scrolls, they consoled themselves that at least this was over. But a few—particularly those near people transporting many scrolls—swore they could still hear faint overlapping tones, and every so often, here and there, a hairline crackle of red energy could be seen...

Gods (of Beluaterra)