Friday, May 2, 2014

Flashback: Wellspring

Light.

After months of darkness the eyes, Rantal came to discover, became sensitive to light of all intensities. The cleric could easily distinguish, even with eyes closed, the soft glow of a candle against the flicker of a torch. This new light, a radiance that Rantal Gundwynd knew well, was the azure glow of his soulspark creature.The wellspring has opened! Rantal silently rejoiced realizing what the return of his soulspark meant. 

When the power of the gods was cast down on the Realms certain magics went awry while others failed, and so it was with the wellspring and the source of incarnum; but since the advent of the godsfall the wellspring had closed and Azuth had disappeared for Rantal.

In the time that followed, Rantal did not know how long he prayed to the High One for a sign but the need for sustenance forced the cleric to break from his intense reverie and forage only to stumble across a Seer who would lead him to months of darkness, drudgery and grueling slavery.
                                                                                                                                             
And he was not alone.

Time became meaningless as scores of men from town mined and labored in dark tunnels for days between rest periods for unknown masters who never entered into the meager torchlight and therefore could never be seen. Instead they used orcs to enforce their demands, and visited the depths only to create new tunnels as more slaves were added to the operation.


The soulspark began to brighten and bounce in excitement at their reunion.

To his right Rantal’s brother Hanuman began to stir, the intensifying glow of the soulspark was waking him. Quickly Rantal unshaped the soulspark meld and reshaped it into a thin blue circlet upon his brow purging the area of the azure light. Rantal prayed to the High One and felt his words being received. He began to weep. It was exhilarating to feel the Azuth’s divine regard and the return of his domain powers.

To the left, down the magically excavated tunnel, came a trio of orcs- rest period was at its end; so too it would seem was the godsfall.
                                                    
He turned to his eldest brother, “Han wake up. It is over.”

Hanuman was the eldest Gundwynd son and heir to the family name; he was enslaved while searching for Rantal gods knew how long ago. He sat up audibly, his joints protesting all the while. “What?... Hey you look different, your eyes...” Han said after a brief glance.


“Aye, and you too my brother. Can you feel it? The wellspring has opened and the godsfall is at its end. It must be midsummer.” Rantal said, his voice rising with emotion.

“Control yourself. There are no doubt other meldshapers about who will be anxious to rebel when they realize the wellspring has opened, but we must gather our strength.” Hanuman whispered as the orc slavers grew closer.

The cleric of Azuth listened quietly as his brother spoke and as he did hope sprang anew in the cleric’s soul. “The way I see it we have twenty-four hours to act. After that security is going to get really tight, more orcs or perhaps the 'others', they may resort to killing off some of us with obvious renewed magic. First we must coordinate with other meldshapers and gather the weapons I know some of us have stashed round these tunnels, then quietly make our move. We want to be in control of these tunnels when one of ‘them’ return to the mines.”

                                                                                                        

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