Rayclast Styxx - Studying the Relics - Chapter One

The Smallest Nudge...
One night when the artifacts were gathered within Eladramere's keep, Styxx ventured up the Keep till she reached it's peek. Standing close to the center her gaze went to each artifact. Her hands ascending to tug down the hood of hers. A narrow eyed, determined look upon her visage. "If no one will figure you out, then I shall." She uttered to herself.

Setting four pieces of ivory on the floor around herself, effectively making a square she used them as components to cast the Legend Lore spell. The pieces of ivory dissolving into ash, blowing away in the frequent wind that amassed at the top of the tower. She then retrieved a goblet with a bottle that had a strange concoction within it. Pouring the contents into the goblet the bottle was eased away and a pearl soon after crushed. The brew drunk there and then, casting the Identify spell upon herself. Her form moved to the first relic, that of Eladramere's. She brushed her hand over it as she tried to deduce what lore and magical properties the artifact may have. She repeated this little series of rituals for each relic there after, trying to get the bigger picture of each artifact. She even went so far as trying to piece the relics together, or put them close together, to repeat said process once more.

If all else failed she tried her final resort spell, Analyze Dweomer. Multiple ruby lenses were set around the bundle of artifacts before she began to recite the spell. Runes drawn in the air in a light-blueish color. While the spell does not function if used on an artifact, there was hope that there might be some form of revelation that could still be hand from these innate relics.

"You ought to belong to someone. Who owns you really?" She muttered to herself again. She procured a silver mirror that she had left off to the side and laid it down fairly central of the artifacts. Kneeling before the silver mirror her hands settled down upon it. Her eyes closing as she began to recite a mass of arcane and divine lines. This recitation took an hour of focused spell weaving as she tried to Greater Scry the owner of the relics.

The Biggest Impact...
Even from the outside it would be evident that whatever is visible on the outside is nothing more than a protective shell, a vessel to hold that which is deep within. It would seem that someone, or something, decided many years ago to shield the power of the so-called Relics from would be power-mongers and their ilk.

The Legend Lore and Identify spells would, at least in the first instance, do nothing more than reveal that the shell is fortress unto itself. It's stone exterior looks to be worn smooth from years of it being moved from keep to keep, and yet it catches the light with an almost polished pride. Beneath the fascia are warding magics of barely recognisable origin - there are inscriptions in the common tongue, Kara-turan, and Helzian etched all around the top of the main pedestal - but they seem to be more concerned with keeping things in that out. Each one would have the same story - similar marking, the same magical resonance, the same sense that they were intended to keep something contained. The magics seem to use scraps of warding magics present in the modern spell book, but for the most part are obscured by history and the wards themselves.

Analyse Dweomer yields nothing more than the previous two spells. Whatever is held within is probably classed as an artifact.

One would have forgiven Styxx for giving up at this point. The shell was giving little more than pointers down rabbit holes that could have no end. But the Greater Scrying spell seemed to cause a shift - as if something in the recesses of the world clicked - and a shift in the winds atop the Eladramerian tower. It was not a mere change of the breeze from one compass point to another, but as if all of the breezes were converging atop the fortified spire. The winds would become more intense, bringing with them their collections of dust, plants, and other small matter until the entire roof of the keep was a maelstrom of whatever the winds held.

At its centre, Styxx would find it hard to stand, see, or hear anything but the onrush of nature's attentions. Several times she would be blown over, only too seemingly be given the opportunity to stand up again. Then, all at once, nothing; the winds, the storm, the squall atop the tower was gone. The colours of the world would then start to peel away and the vista of the world disappear in Styxx' mind. The land below, the distant sea, and the sky all slipping away into an inky void of blackness as she was taken through the layers of the world to where her spell was taking her.

A dull thud would stop Styxx' sinking into the abyss, leaving her in a pitch black space devoid of sound. It is painfully eerie in the nothingness for what seems like forever, accompanied only by her own increasingly frantic thoughts. Hallucinations would be inevitable in such a place and she would see all manner of apparitions conjured by her subconscious.

The descent into madness was halted as suddenly as it had started - a vertical crack of light appearing in the emptiness. Slowly it spread side until Styxx found herself sitting in the middle of a stone circle. All around her stretched grand and deep-planted roots, stretching upwards to form columns of a roof far above. All manner of fantastical coloured birds danced amongst the arches singing songs that lift Styxx from the slump the darkness had induced. Though there seems no source for it, the light here is warming and kind, further raising he spirits.

She barely notices the figure watching her, yet when she does she is stopped still in her tracks. The female staring seems to be wrapped in nature itself, leaves and vines clinging to her form. Her face is hauntingly beautiful, a picture of grace and fairness that would give Sune herself competition. Her gaze is piercing and Styxx would suddenly feel like the chasm of time and space was being opened up between them. Thoughts, memories, and dreams were all being pulled out of her in the silent scrutiny.

Behind her a large, dark grey stone door stood. It was sealed tightly, whatever beyond it obscured from any magical or physical sight.

"Why are you here, my child?" The voice is as haunting as the woman's gaze, the words appearing in Styxx' mind without the woman's visage shifting. No answer is even given, but the woman seems to know the answer.

"Knowledge in this place is dangerous. Are you sure you are ready?"

There is a long pause.

"The Lady welcomes you."

With that the entire world spins into a swirl of shards of colour swirling into a tunnel that seems to pull Styxx upwards and outwards. Then she is returned as if nothing had ever occurred, atop the tower, with nothing but a gentle breeze to keep her company.

Studying the Relics - Chapter Two