“The sheer amount of relics out there just waiting for some yahoo calling themselves an ‘adventurer’ to dig up is…well, it’s terrifying, frankly. It’s a wonder we’re not just ruled by a halfways competent archaeologist with a taste for power because let me tell you, there is a lot of stuff out there that could cause us some serious problems if it got found.
Arch-Magus Telara, unprompted
“I guess the ones with too much ambition are just getting eaten.”
Lidda grimaced as the stone door juddered along the ground, retracting into the walls and shaking the floor. A waft of stale air drifted through the open doorway as the rumbling ceased, and her nose crinkled in response.
“And that’s to say nothing of the logistics,” said Cylla from her position on Lidda’s left. The pair began down the newly opened corridor, talking as they went.
“The logistics should be well in hand by now,” said Lidda.
“Gods know there’s been enough time to prepare,” said Cylla, tracing a sigil on her open palm and beckoning a glowing light into existence. It’s pale white-blue glimmer made the elf’s white hair shine a brilliant silver. “How much longer?”
Lidda shook her head. “A matter of days, I should expect. The final pieces are slotting into place, then–” The oselan stopped, holding an open palm in the air to halt Cylla also. “Glyph,” she said, nodding her head towards the faint symbol etched into the floor in front of them.
Cylla knelt down to Lidda’s level to inspect it as the Archbishop gestured and chanted. “Matrix format,” the elf remarked, standing back up to her full height, watching as the glyph bloomed with blue light then faded to inactivity, nothing more than a gentle indentation in the stone floor.
“Mm,” said Lidda. “The Aestrans were certainly wary of intruders. That suggests we’re on the right track. Keep an eye out, there’ll be more.” She continued down the stone corridor, her red robes trailing along the ancient stone. Cylla followed.
Master and apprentice proceeded along the corridor, winding its way through the ancient ruins steadily downwards. Murals adorned the pale stone walls, images of ancient heroes and the fall of a dark empire, a grim omen of what lay further within.
“And where are the adventurers in all of this?” asked Cylla, “they’ve been…absent of late.”
“Scale,” said Lidda. “They’ve a war of their own to wage.”
Cylla nodded. “And how long do we have before they return?”
“A few months, perhaps,” said Lidda. “It’s difficult to say, they’re…too unpredictable to plan around. But I don’t expect they’ll be a problem for us.”
“And what if they are?” asked Cylla, absent-mindedly regarding a faded inscription on the wall beside her.
Lidda slowed her pace, looking up at the elf, thinking. “We have solutions,” she said at length.
“The Simulacrum?”
Lidda nodded.
“Do you think you can still master her?”
“We’ll have to see.”
The pair rounded a corner, the corridor coming to a close at a large arched doorway, runed text glimmering gently in the light of Cylla’s orb. The pair could feel the immensity of the energy behind it seeping into its surroundings.
“We’ll have to see.”
