Re: Downtime in the Dalelands
Encrypted Scroll
Once he got his wits about him, Corym went to see Neldor. The alchemist came out of the back room almost as soon as Corym called, wiping his hands on a rag.
"Neldor--you'll have to forgive me. I'm not as composed as usual today. I've done it. I've cracked the scroll's code. I know what's in it."
Neldor finished wiping his hands and set the cloth aside with the deliberate motions of someone who mixed reagents for a living. "Based on your reaction, it was either very good, or very bad. What did you discover?"
"Both? We both knew what I was looking for--and that wasn't there. But what I found is likely priceless, and whichever way I dispose of it will require an archmage. And that will require trust."
"Which is in such great supply among wizards of power," Neldor chuckled.
"Indeed. But I like to think that we've at least developed a rapport which is the first step on the path to trust."
"Perhaps." Neldor was smiling. "What would you have of me?"
"Frankly, you and I both know that I need a Wish. Whether you can cast it, acquire it, or deal for it. That's the only fix for Talindra. I haven't asked before because I had nothing to offer. Now I do. If you don't have it, and don't know how to acquire it what I have still needs to be disposed of discreetly so that it can be preserved and studied for the betterment of the People."
"I do not have it," Neldor says. "There have been times I wished, if you will excuse the expression, that I did. But it is not in my spellbooks." He cocked his head to one side. "That does not necessarily mean that I could not find one. Are you offering this scroll in trade? And are you so certain that it will be sufficient?"
"More than. It contains seven 9th circle spells, one of which I've never even heard of before, and it took Evereskan intelligence's top code breaker two months to penetrate the cypher that guards its secrets. I believe I also know the name of the maker. Immianthe."
Neldor's eyes widened. "You're right. That is a treasure indeed."
"You could destroy me and take it," Corym said, watching Neldor closely. "But so could any that could make use of it. If I even tried to, even at my level of proficiency I would most likely destroy it. So now we discover how well we trust one another."
Neldor leaned back against the wall, his eyes losing focus. "Immianthe. Elven name. A woman, probably. Old style. Probably born at least two thousand years ago." Then what you're saying penetrates and he jerks in surprise. "No. I probably couldn't. At least not unless I was willing to take Glen with me. I... have no skill with battle spells. And anyway, I'm of Eueurarlor. That's not how we did things."
"I'd love to hear more about it at some point. My Cormanthan lore is lacking, I'm afraid."
"Perhaps."<coral> Neldor shook his head. <coral>"Or perhaps not. When you lose something you love, sometimes the best you can do is forget."
"Here's what I'd like to offer if you're able to acquire a wish and use it on Talindra's behalf. You get the scroll. The company authorized the use of the scroll for Talindra's renewal. You and I both know that it likely exceeds the value of a Wish but that it is not able to be broken up like coins. As valuable as it is, it is also useful to only a tiny minority and my interests are for the broader community. So additionally, you take on five apprentices from Velethuil ((Bristar)). I will walk you through the cypher so that you need not take the months to uncover it yourself, but I haven't mastered it yet--and the cypher itself is incredibly valuable. That I'd like for myself. Finally, there is my homeland to consider. The star of my father's house was dimmed when his marriage was determined by love rather than position. Allow one scholar--your choosing--to study the scroll with you. The ownership remains yours, but the lore must be preserved in a place of strength."
Neldor laughs. "You have a good heart, but you thrust yourself into things that you do not understand. Few wizards would enjoy being forced to take an apprentice if they do not want one, and the apprentices would not thank you, for they would bear the brunt of the master's ire. As for Velethuil, they will not leave their little corner of the forest. They are a scared, blinded people. If one of them came to me, I would likely teach them. The Art is a beautiful thing, and it is meant to be shared. But I have been in Glen for years, and in Cormanthor my entire life. They have not come."
"Their leaders have abandoned them. They have good reason to be fearful. A new breed of leader must be bred. But if I bring them, you will take them? If they meet with your approval?"
"They have been terrified long before the Elven Court's recent foolishness. And frightened people do not make for good students, or wise users of power."
"My mother says that it is the sovereign test of intelligence to hold two mutually exclusive truths in your head and yet retain the capacity for action. For instance, knowing the hopelessness of the world and yet also the boundless capacity for hope. The hopeless causes are the ones most worth fighting for. If I bring you apprentices--from whatever district that are committed to improving the community of the people here in the bones of Cormanthor, you will train them?"
Neldor sighs. "I will take a look at this scroll. If it is what you say, I will find you a wish, or find where such a scroll or item may be found. I will also allow you and the other wizards in your group to learn three spells from me of such power as you can actually use. And I will help train your apprentice. Talindra is a fascinating person, and a quarter of the time she is a good teacher, but Kora could use a more modern, and more focused, hand on her training. But I will not have magic forced upon people. I won't have it done by those who would blast and warp for their own power, and I won't by you, for altruistic reasons."
Corym nods. "Done. That's one provision. And for the record--that you are an elf of conscience improves my trust. Even if your conscience is inimical to my vision. Good friends push back rather than go along."
Neldor looks at you. "Your vision for a moment sounded like the worst days of the Crown War. Who are you to declare that this person must do this, must study this, merely because you say so? It must be their choice, or none at all."
"I didn't say that I was going to compel anyone. But I don't think the people of Velethuil have very many opportunities to grow in their isolation. That sort of provincialism feeds on itself and becomes Xenophobic, and the outcomes of your life become limited to the only examples in front of your eyes. And yet some of their spirits stir--this Syndra for whom we seek is one such. Without change, something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens. I was hoping that you might serve as a stimulus to awaken what sleeps inside them.
Or else their fate is as good as written--to continue to diminish until they are overwhelmed in a spasm of violence by those that seek what they have or else in a suicidal outburst."
Neldor shrugged. "A few leave every generation. A few of them return, with a wider perspective. But those people have always been narrow-minded. And it is neither your job nor mine to force them open."
"Nonetheless, I accept your counter. I have no interest in offending your conscience."
"I appreciate that. So. Let me come and see this scroll of yours, and then I will sit down and think about where we might find you a wish."
Corym held up a hand. "The Cypher and the Scholar? The second and third provisions. And I have the scroll here--it hasn't left my person since I discovered what it contained."
Neldor looked confused. "You said you don't understand the cypher. You can't offer what you do not have. And you still haven't said anything about why your parents' marriage has any bearing on this."
"I know what's on the scroll--but I don't know the cypher thoroughly enough to reproduce it at this point. I'd like to continue to play with it as I can, and as your knowledge of it deepens I'd appreciate your perspective."
Neldor shrugged. "I don't see any problem with that."
"My task appointed by my order is to reclaim lost Art and return it to The People. Typically that is my superiors, a priest, or the academy. None in my order--none--have ever laid hand on such an item as this. Such a feat would be a mark of high honor and help to elevate my mother and siblings among their peers. I will stand to benefit little--I was born among the hills but I live now as a citizen of the world. But it will help my family if I am able to deliver the lore if not the scroll."
"Is there any lore on the scroll? Most spell scrolls don't also have treatises."
"I am not an academic, so the distinction is lost on me. I've collected Kiira, and journals, and other items. I've broken the back of illicit networks trafficking in the cultural history of our people. I've suffered capture and slavery in these efforts. Never has this been found. Perhaps by treatises you mean the papers of Elaethen Bhepel. If Talindra can be persuaded, we will see those passed on too."
"I... am not understanding you. This is a spell scroll. A means of transporting magic ready to cast. Or, with a great deal of research, recreating it in someone's spellbook. There are no great magical insights here. Useful spells, yes. But this is not a magical library. It is not even a book in a magical library. I think you need to take a step back and figure out what you're actually trying to say."
"Recreating the spell--that's the lore. If you're the only one that knows it, only one benefits. If a scholar from the academy performs the research and is able to reproduce the spells its use it multiplied and may be passed on to those he instructs." He lists the spells:
"Time Stop
"Shape Change
"Dragonshape
"Immianthe’s Immutable Circle
"Immunity to Undeath
"Elemental Aura
"Absorption
"Aside from Time Stop--these are all out of the ordinary."
Neldor shrugged. "That's being a wizard. We share, sometimes. But not usually. I will not leave Cormanthor. And most mages of my power would have little trouble killing me, as most of them are better at war magic. So would you be trying to drag some archmage east from Evereska, and then hope you get a scholar's conference and not a spellstorm? You seem to know your history. You know that not all of the People are goodness and light."
"You won't leave--they'll come to you. Wizened Silveroak will know who. Will a recommendation of the head of the church of Labelas Enoreth be a sufficent character reference?"
Neldor crosses his arms. "Since it's my life you're putting on the line, no. But if it means so much to you, I can promise that once I learn these spells, I intend to share them with at least one other person."
Corym nodded. "That suffices. I can tell that my peculiarity has annoyed you. I'm sorry for that. It frequently does."
Neldor waved it away. "We're wizards. Peculiar goes with the title. Now, are you willing to walk me through this scroll?"
"Indeed. I perceive that the problem I'm having with the cypher is a conceptual one. It was designed by someone with a wildly alternative world view of the Art. I think if I knew that, I'd know the code. I'm excited to show it all to you! It's as if I've learned the reading of letters, but not of words."
After studying the scroll for several hours, Neldor leans back and nods. "I think I've figured out why this encryption is so hard to understand. Whoever wrote this wasn't a mage. She was a dualist. An Alurakar, if I remember the term correctly. That would explain why all of these spells are either abjurations or transmutations. I suppose we're lucky; I've heard that some dualists could create dualist version of common spells that were effectively a step or below their actual level, but that were utterly incomprehensible to anyone not also a dualist.
"I doubt we'll ever be able to use this cypher ourselves, but I'll copy out what I can make of it anyway." He grins at you, pulling out a pair of glasses and a bottle of very old, and and fine, liquor. "In case you manage to bring back a Silver Age dualist with you next."
He pours out the liquor and hands the glass to Neldor. "Congratulations."
Corym grins back. "Thank you." He hesitated. "Actually... I do have a potion that allows the imbiber to learn a language permanently by concentrating on someone that already knows it."
Neldor shook his head. "Save it. This would be like trying to learn the language of the druids. All you'd get would be a headache."
The two wizards spent the next couple bells making significant headway through Neldor's bottle, before eventually Corym headed back to their house. Corym was feeling like he was on top of the world, and the drink in his stomach was great as well.
