Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Tragidore: the Rider of the Winds and the Mother of Magic

Shaundakul 
The Man who was now Shaundakul dismounted his celestial steed, the noble Brave-Heart and took a hesitant step forward. The Man was a seasoned crusader and myrmidon who once followed Torm; but after the godsfall the Man would now he led his own multitudes of crusaders and travelers through churches and clergy. 

Wind seemed to perpetually play at his locks and traveling cape as he brought his great-sword, the Shadow-Cleaver across his knee in a gesture of neutrality bowing as he did so, exposing his neck. The Rider of the Winds could scarcely perceive the goddess he was petitioning; on her own plane the goddess was a purely magical being but what Shaundakul could see was light.

Stepping out of the light from the Color Spray Nebula the goddess of magic addressed her caller. “Rise and look upon me traveler. If you come in peace, then you have no cause to fear harm from me.” Her voice was melodious; its resonance shook the stars causing them to blink and flicker.
Mystra 

Shaundakul did as he was bayed sheathing Shadow-cleaver while producing gemstone that glowed like a flame was trapped within its faceted walls; a soul-gem.

“Mother of Magic I ask for a boon, to restore life to my first personal cleric who served me faithfully in life- through the use of your wellspring.” Shaundakul looked serenely up at the Lady of Mysteries hoping she could not see the secret he kept in his heart.

Mystra smiled but in her mind she wondered how this lesser deity knew what she was doing: reincarnating the former Mystra's murdered clergy. The thought also brought with it an alarming possibility- what if another deity discovered the depths of her measures and what the new Mother of Magic was capable of…

“I am touched and will provide for you this service and in return I would have something from you.” Mystra said eyeing the Rider and his cunning.

Shaundakul stood waiting for what it would cost him to restore life to his former lover.


Two Months ago (High Harvest Tide)

Hegelina Vistani awoke with a scream, all around her lights, sounds, and smells threatened to overwhelm her and tear her open. Fear gripped her and she shot to her feet not noticing how her flesh and perceptions have altered. She looked around confused and realized she was still screaming. Composing herself she found her self in her old bed-chambers where she immediately fell to her knees to pray to Shaundakul who consoled her, warned her of the dangers, and prepared her to lead her family from Tragidore and from the Realms.


Now (Moonfeast)

Hegelina Vistani
Hegelina, Cleric of Shaundakul watched as the two woman discussed the current state of Tragidore. Since her reincarnation Hegelina viewed inter-city politics with detached fascination choosing to concern herself with the broader world's concerns. 

Hegelina could not enter into such games of politics even if she had wished. No, she could only remain hidden or be hunted and burned as dragonblooded. Just as in the way Raimund Van Richten hunted down and killed Colbin Vetnar. Colbin was a follower of Mystra before the godsfall but when the cleric came back changed, it was all too much for the Van Richten family giving rise to their blind hunt for reincarnates. 

“Why the last minute change Celadae? Do you know?” Marta Vistani asked her young daughter. Both women had worked many hours to properly represent the Vistani family in the Quest for the Everflame, this omission Marta believed was clearly an affront to their house.

“No mother I do not, nor do I believe Mura Gundwynd knows why either.” Celadae said honestly, hoping to be finished with the subject so she could return to her studies and attempt to gather her pride.
 
Marta Vistani
Reading her daughter she dismissed Celadae and looked to Hegelina who was silent in her thoughts.

“You think this is an insult Marta? I think it is a sign.” Hegelina said to her sister, although now it would be impossible to recognize that fact.

Marta turned a questioning eye to Hegelina, “Yes I do.” Marta said exasperated. “Mystra's Stars! You of all people should be wary of the tactics of the Van Richtens and the high-society Gundwynds!”

When these words became too difficult to bear, Marta continued, “I’m sorry sis, I am not sleeping well. Nightmares steal any chance at rest as of late making me paranoid of those around me; please tell me what you mean by a sign.”


“Winds are changing direction sister and I am afraid it heralds ill for travelers.” The cleric told her troubled sister. Hegelina approached Marta and embraced looking into her eyes. “Tonight, sister let us rest knowing that our time for great travel is not yet upon us.” 

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