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Music soothes the soul

Posted: Mon Dec 31, 2012 6:07 pm
by Tanda Knighthawke
It was late afternoon as we arrived in Jhelom, the smell of food wafting through the air from the nearby tavern. Speaking quietly about what we should perhaps expect or not expect Galen an I approached the tavern. The heavy wooden doors creaked as they were opened, inside the rustic placed looked much as it always did, tavern keeps, waitresses and cooks moving about preparing for the nights patrons and tending to those inside. We chose a bench facing the only door, there was no sign of the mondainite woman Silrien at least not that we could see. I filled Galen in on the last conversation I'd had with the woman as we waited.

Seemingly from no where the woman appeared, the door had not opened, yet there she was. We exchanged rather strained greetings and began talks about the ruins and relics left behind by the Temple of Mondain. How this could possible help find what Ailieve seemed to be missing. With much mistrust and doubt evident in his tone and demeanor Galen agreed to travel with the mondainite and myself to the place where Alista Greenwood was supposedly buried.

We arrived in the desolate and forgotten lands of Felucca, near a rather large wooden lift suspended from the cliff face. It had been many years since I had traveled to this spot, nothing good ever came from those ruins high upon the cliff. The woman spoke of how Meneldur and other Temple Priests had taken many lives in this place. As she spoke I was strangely drawn to the altar, making my way through the broken furniture in what at one time must have been a meeting hall or place of worship I stopped at the base of the stairs.
The air there was thick with the sound of voices, noises of people moving around and the frantic pleading of a woman's voice rang out above them all.
As she spoke, images filled my minds eye of a woman in a green dress, her brown hair visible, a flash of a jeweled dagger caught her eye, her final request was that her ashes be scattered in Skara Brae. The dagger was plunged into her chest.

Having never met the Lady Greenwood I still could not deny the clarity of this woman's image in my mind, she wanted above all else for someone to finally be able to put her whereabouts to rest. I stood there lost briefly, as for as suddenly as she had appeared to me she was gone and all that remained in my mind was the image of Meneldur, the dagger and the ring upon his finger. He knew he would soon have the second piece he needed for his spell.

I shook my head a couple times, clearing the disorientation that often accompanies such over powering visions. Ailieve was not here. We left the mountain top, marked a ruin for a return visit with the hopes of doing so without the Mondainite in tow and made our way to Nujel'm.

She said that this was the place Meneldur had met his end along with her brother. We walked through the city, to the North side of the island, there was a bay. As I walked toward the shore, the din of battle echoed in my ears, the sounds of swords clashing, fire crackled, and the unmistakable sound of explosion rang. The voices were muffled, sounding much like battle orders amid the chaos.

She spoke of the Temple having ships just off shore to aid them in their escape, they never made it to the ship. If her memory served her correctly it had been Ren the Conjurer who had taken Meneldur's life. They had been killed along the shoreline, as I saw Meneldur fall I could hear Ailieve cry out as if someone had opened a door or taken away the object containing the sound. She had been on the island, my mind searched faces those I could make out there was no physical form I could find, but I could sense her, she was there.

Once again I shook away the disorientation, spoke with Galen about how this wretched island differed from Magincia. How the Temple of Mondain and demonic invasion had destroyed Magincia too. When we remembered Lady Silverbrook had moved her museum from Magincia to Nujel'm. We walked at a pace that indicated intent, it had to be, there were few relics or containers on this sandy rock I felt confident would have been a chosen vessel to house her soul.

We reached the museum, the roof was empty, well filled with many artistic relics but she was not among them. Galen suggested we roam about the main floor, I was first drawn to the many volumes of text there, hoping for a clue. When I finally heard Galen he was standing with the Mondainite near a pair of lutes on the display case. The nearer I got, the more certain I was we had found the missing piece. We substituted a replacement lute and made our way to Newcastle, dismissing the Mondainite with our gratitude.

We arrived at the Keep, found Nevahs, related the events of the night... perhaps a little too directly, Galen has a rather direct economic way with words. Nevahs took us to the bedroom where Ailieve lay sleeping, to Galen's dismay the mere presence of her missing soul arriving didn't fix the problem. Maybe it is a common trait of all warriors answers and fixes should be direct, and immediate if at all possible. Magic it seems rarely works that way.

I pondered for a bit, this would have been easier if it had been Ailieve who was awake. None of the parties there had any talent for playing a tune on the lute.
I offered a prayer to the Goddess, asked for guidance and help, told Nevahs to say her goodbyes or final words just in case asked her to take her mother's hand and began to strum the lute. The first couple attempts were pathetic indeed, then a rather odd feeling came over me and the strumming began to sound like a song. Ailieve's frame teetered a little, and the voice that responded was hers with a throbbing headache, but in it's proper home and very much alive. Nevahs laid in the bed, snoring, from outward observation she seemed unharmed, no way to confirm whether or not this had fixed all the issues. Galen and I left them to rest.