Porthca Landing III: Burned Bridges & Broken Chains

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Valerie had taken some time to recompose herself after hearing the news from Eliza, feeling far better now that she heard that they would not be parting ways immediately at the very least. Dabbing at her eyes once more, she stowed away her handkerchief and straightened up her appearance before tuning into the conversation Lestone was having with Tyrius. Brightening up at the change in topic, Valerie put in excitedly. "Yes, she actually appeared to me in her true form in a dream I had last night. Your mother is quite the regal figure, powerful and imposing. Perhaps some day we will be able to restore the Tempest back to some semblance of her power... I know that I feel stronger now than before, perhaps she may grow as I continue to as well?"

The young warlock then recalled another revelation she had had earlier in the day and slung her bag over her shoulder. "Oh, that reminds me. I also discovered earlier that I can do this!" She held out her hands in front of her and closed her eyes concentrating before an arc of electricity burst from her ring, connecting harmlessly to her left hand before dissipating after a few seconds. "It is hardly much of anything at all compared to the magic Tyrius and Eliza can produce, but it is still rather exciting to discover something new."

Valerie then paused for a moment as she looked around them and rubbed her chin. Why was it that we came here... She finally remembered and turned to the others. "Apologies that it had slipped my mind in my excitement earlier, we were here about those dastardly manacles, correct?" She walked over to the nearby desk and smiled warmly to the person behind it, giving them a quick curtsy. "Good afternoon! My name is Valerie Rhitegast, and I was hoping that you would be able to assist my friends and I with a cruel bit of arcane oddity. Are you the person to speak to about our troubles or is there another that we should direct our queries to?"
 
Now that they knew Ander was perfectly willing to help in the hunt for Eliza's parents, there was nothing left to stop it from going ahead -- no excuse for Eliza to put it off again. Naturally, Virra credited herself with the bulk of it. "Then that's settled," she said triumphantly, though her sense of accomplishment soon faded.

The group were heading to Chilldrift, and all that that implied.

But before her worries could bubble to the surface, Lestone and Ty's little conversation provided some much-needed distraction -- once when the elemental made his cryptic comment about speeding things up, and again when they unknowingly got onto her new pet research topic. "Pockets of faith?" she cut in. "I remember the Sea talking about faith last night. So, all these Greater Elementals exist just because people believed in them? Or is the prayer and worship necessary too? The Sea was pretty hung up on that, so I thought maybe it was required for her to survive. But she mentioned it while she was talking about ascending to godhood, so maybe it's only necessary in that sense. You sound like you know a lot about this, Lestone -- am I on the right track?" she asked, all in one near-breathless rush that hardly slowed down when she remembered her other reasons for speaking up. "Oh, and what's this "method of travel" you teased us with? I wanna know. And since you mentioned those bags..."

Virra inclined her head towards Valerie, who had gone to speak with the clerk and taken the bag in question with her. "Is that what I think it is, and where did she get it?" she finished, eyes alight with curiosity.
 
“All this talk about gods and their elemental powers,” Eliza’s gaze followed the sparks that shot out of Valerie’s hands and Lestone’s whole being, “It really puts into perspective how ultimately tiny we are in the arcane fabric.” She snapped her hands as she conjured the image of the Pearl in her hand again dropping it after a few seconds.

“If what you say is true about the faster means of travel, well, you would find me most grateful Mr Lestone.” Eliza smiled faintly then stepped forwards to where Val and Virra were talking to Ormeth and place a hand on val’s shoulder, “She’s actually already helping decipher the runes I found on the manacles but I think Mrs Ormeth probably needs more time.”
 
Noon of the Twenty-Seventh Day | Porthca | The Aedon House:

"Perhaps -- it would be nice to truly see her once more," Lestone smiled sadly. "Though I worry if something happens to you or the ring if she might be lost forever." As the warlock began to walk away, the man's attention was taken instead by Virra as she suddenly threw her own whirlwind at him -- a whirlwind of questions.

Crouching to be similar to her height he thought for a moment, "No ... my mother and her siblings ... hm. They represent the elements themselves. Even if there were no people, they would exist, but my mother might be a great storm that crossed the skies, her sister an ever shifting mountain, brothers a raging fire or an eternal whirlpool. Powerful forces of nature but truly wild at the same time, destructive and dangerous even to themselves to always be acting out in such ways." Cupping his hands together a small cloud began to form above his palm, faint flickers of lightning spreading from it through the air. Slowly it began to shift and take the form of a woman, eyes of lightning, hair a fog that faded further into the air, while soft white clouds made a long flowing dress that ran off the edges of his hands like mist. "Prayer and worship is what gave them personality, sentience, and control. The oldest tribes prayed for a benevolent storm, to water their fields, and smite their enemies -- the ancient races of the earth prayed for a loving mountain to house them, to gift them brilliant gems and protect them from the dangers both below and above. Those of the deserts cried for a protective flame, to guide them in the dark and warm them from the cold of death, and others still begged for safe waters to sail, with devastation awaiting those that tried to raid their shores." As he spoke through the different elements, the image of the woman changed -- from the cloud form to a woman whose clothes were a mix of vines and roots, her skin was the dark color of living earth, and her eyes remained shut. The hair on her head was covered both in gems and flowers, mixed both together in a stunning display, a soft smile rested on her face. Then the woman burned away, becoming a male figure who wore a long sash of flames like a scarf, his hair was fire that flowed around him, and his skin was a burnt color of charcoal, clothing ornate and delicate in its details, a broad grin on his face. Then the flame was covered by water, revealing another male figure, his expression almost a strange mix of peace and rage, hair that looked like kelp, and his body covered by coral and scales, the clothing he wore looked similar to that of sailors.

"These are my uncles and my aunt, Greater elementals. They too have children they created that wander the world, though not all are pleasant, and not all of my siblings have my temperament." Lestone closed his hand as the images faded into the air. "In other places, where enough people gather or throw prayers to the wind, the thoughts, the belief, the assuredness of that moment that surely something is there to receive it, can begin to affect the world as well. Here in Porthca, the harbor was dangerous and the water wild -- at least when I came here originally. Few could manage to survive arriving here, which I expect made it a good place for smuggling since few would brave the stones and rocks that awaited. Over time, people's prayers of calm waters or easy passage gathered together and something began to respond, to be created. The Sea -- far from an original name," he smirked, "but for her domain within this area, it's all she needed. A title to gather power under, eventually gaining a personality and the rest has been history."

Leaning on his knee with an elbow, "Porthca and all history of it would need to be removed for her to truly die at this point, and it would take many more knowing of her name and power to become a god. For now she is a child-like elemental, still quite young compared to the Greaters." Lestone chuckled, "Anyway, yes, you could say I know a lot, but only because it was knowledge my mother gave me before I left her domain. I don't claim to be all knowing by any means, and much of it is probably not even relevant anymore." He frowned for a moment then continued, "My preferred method is to become the wind itself and travel that way. It's something I can share with others, if I decide to."

At Eliza's comment he looked up, "Tiny perhaps, but still quite powerful ultimately. Those of the Material definitely have a strength in numbers."

Ormeth leaned back slightly from the sudden attention then cleared her throat, "Ah -- yes, we had begun research on that topic. If you wish, I can lead you towards the fellow currently working on it and see what he has managed so far?"
 
"so Liza, want to send a messege to your parents? This whole history of the world stuff is fun and all, but what if we call them and they are all, no problems here honey. We are having pizzzas for dinner. It would be nice to see you but only when you have time?"
She had been adjusting her garments from the recent face first into the floor are the hug. Hugs were always a good thing.
 
“I don’t know, Mags. It looked quite serious but it is always worth a shot.” Taking out her notebook and pen, Eliza doodled what Mr and Mrs Carabelli looked like then sighed and tossed the paper aside, “Well, you should know more about them first. Hmm,” She tapped her forehead absentmindedly as she struggled to define her parents. “Well, they are both gnomes of average height. They are somewhat old for gnomes, I guess, but don’t let that fool you. Bartholomew Carabelli is usually laid back, creative, smart, and likes to think he is hilarious.” Eliza thought back and smiled sadly, “Alberta Carabelli, on the other hand, is kind and generous, and an extremely powerful and competent wizard...and I haven’t seen them in three years.”
 
Overhearing Virra’s question, Valerie turned back and smiled, showing off the bag. “If you think that it is a bag of holding, then yes, it is! Do you like it? I just purchased it from the Mionaeli House. It is truly such a remarkable thing, holding so much and still being so light!”

Hearing Ormeth speak up, Valerie smiled warmly and nodded to her. “Oh, that would be wonderful! From what I have heard, the work that you and your fellow wizards are capable of is just astounding, thank you so much Mage...” She quickly noticed the name plate and continued with little falter. “Ormeth. And might I say, that is such a lovely name.”
 
Having hit upon the rare topic that could hold Virra's interest for a full minute, Lestone was treated to her full attention as he spoke; the illusion show he put on definitely helped. But by the end of it, there was a note of disappointment in her face. "You have a very beautiful family, Lestone," she said, though her brow was still creased with thought. "But even so... okay, so the Greater Elementals have always existed, and have been shaped into sentience by the belief and characteristics assigned to them by tiny people like us." She tapped her foot. "But the Thief exists too, and he's been around for long enough to have beef with the Sea. And it doesn't look like he represents any element except... well, theft, I guess. But it still looks like he's immortal. But where did he come from?"

Had Lestone not revealed exactly how he preferred to travel, she might have hit him with even more questions about his relatives' perceived immortality. But with that new information in mind, she stared at the once-assassin with something close to awe. "That. Is. Amazing." Breaking into a wide grin, she turned towards the others. "Guys, did you hear that? We're gonna become the wind!" The sight of Val showing off her new bag only energised her further. "Oh yeah, it looks gorgeous. You can bet I'm gonna hit the Mionaeli House as soon as we're done here. Gosh, the wind," she repeated, shaking her head. The group had swapped out some good members for him, but Lestone was rapidly rising in VIrra's estimation. After a miserable time on the road since Wyford, the distractions he brought were doubly appreciated.
 
Noon of the Twenty-Seventh Day | Porthca | The Aedon House:

The elemental smiled sadly at Virra's compliment, though it faded as he listened to her continue talking. Lestone scratched his head, "Well ... I don't think gods need to represent elements do they? Aren't they just concepts given form?" Shrugging, "Wouldn't the Thief ... represent trickery? There are other gods who claim that as their domain, isn't there?"

Ormeth adjusted some hair away from her face, "Oh yes, the Accmour family is well known for their research and magical knowledge -- it's a great honor to be accepted among their number. Even more so if they accept you directly from Azarad." Collecting her things to stand she muttered, "Of course ... can't match the main family in their skill ..."

Tapping lightly on the desk, Ormeth attempted to get the others attention before leading them once more into the library that the Aedon house was known for, the space inside once more being much larger than the outer structure would lead one to believe. A few stray books flapped their way above the book shelves, someone else in robes with a bird flying above them attempting to follow, other tomes rattled behind the chains that kept them on their shelves. The elemental area still smoldered or gave off its respective element, catching Lestone's eye in particular, though he made a point of staying with the group. The mage continued to lead them until she approached a table stacked high with books and a chair barely visible over the top. Coming around the corner, the party could see dark scales of black as a dragonborn lay on the desk sleeping, drool slowly melting through the table from its acidic nature, and the tip of his tail slightly twitching as he slept. Ormeth sighed before kicking the chair slightly, causing the figure to wake, quickly rubbing a very frayed sleeve around his mouth, silver eyes trying to focus on the group before reaching for a set of glasses that were then propped on his snout, hooks resting on the horns that followed his brow. The pin on his color glowed faintly with Enchantment as well, Ormeth introduced him, "This is Riffolk -- he's been attempting to study the rune drawings earlier." She glared at him for a moment, "It seems he needed to rest his eyes, however."

Riffolk tilted his head back and forth trying to take in the large group before nodding, "Apologiess ..." his voice had a slight rasp to it, "I wass up early today attempting to catch some bookss that got loose." Trying to organize the mess before him he continued, "I made some progresss, but it hass not been easy. Drawingss can only tell sso much, when itemss have the magic in them."
 
Valerie followed happily after Ormeth as she led them out of the room, gawking at several of the sights that she had seen, first at the flying books. "Wow... those books are truly such a spectacle! I am surprised they were not offered in the shop, they'd be flying off the shelves." She giggled at the lameness of her own joke before staring at the elemental tomes. "Hm... some of those seem rather difficult to read without catching aflame... would it not make more sense to merely transcribe their contents into something less... dangerous?"

She shrugged as they continued on and as they came into the study, Valerie blinked in surprise as she saw the sleeping black dragonborn before her. She blushed slightly as he got jolted awake on their behalf before straightening up her appearance and giving him an apologetic smile. "It is not you that should be apologizing, Mage Riffolk. I am so very sorry for interrupting your rest. If I had known any better, we could have waited... but regardless, I fear the damage is already done. I am certain that you have discovered things we could never have hoped to learn on our own. And... unless I am mistaken, I believe that Ander here is in possession of the foul object in question. Correct?" With that last word, she turned to Ander as she looked to him questioningly.
 
Ander nearly jumps at the sound of his own name. A restful night and a revelation about some kind of curse that is shifting your bones do not go hand in hand. He had been walking around, zombie-like, as the group spoke with the mage. He didn't even respond at first, he simply reached into his pack and pulled the devilish chains from inside. "I... hate havin' these, but I need some help figurin' out how ta save people from this... sick and twisted magic." He held out the chains, head down as if looking at them hurt him. He really should be paying attention, but he's just very tired...
 
Tyrius watched Lestone as Ander handed off the chains. In one sense, Tyrius was glad that Lestone was so talkative. Everything Lestone was saying was going to end up in his journal for Elizabeth to read. The man could be a gold mine of information about how The Sinking Plains used to be. On the other hand, hearing talk about deities made Tyrius think back to the many stories he had read as a child in the Silverbane Library. Ones about trickery gods who played upon people's greed and desire for a quick and easy fix to their problems, usually ending up in more of a bind than they'd have been in had they not resorted to trying to get something done a quick or easy way.

'Which given our recent experiences of contract negotiation - those stories weren't lying with how divine or aspiring divine beings can twist contracts to suit themselves.' thought Tyrius, which just made him sympathise with Lestone a little more.

"It would be a tremendous help," said Tyrius as he walked up behind Ander and Valerie, "and we'd be sure to let people know how" Tyrius paused as he tried to think of the right word to say, "instrumental your help was in dealing with these accursed chains."
 
Noon of the Twenty-Seventh Day | Porthca | The Aedon House:

Answering Valerie's question earlier with the elemental books, Ormeth sighed, "It's not that easy -- the contents are what cause the effects. If something holds magical knowledge long enough, it becomes affected with that same knowledge."

Adjusting himself in his chair, Riffolk tilted his head to get a better look at Valerie as she spoke, then looked eagerly at Ander with the mention of the chains. Bowing her head, Ormeth took her leave, returning to the front desk while Riffolk busied himself with studying the manacles. "Yess ... the runess told ssome of the sstory, but not all, no."

Setting the offending object down, he dug through the pile before him and retrieved the sketched runes Eliza had offered earlier. "These runess, complicated." A dark claw traced them out on the page as they hovered above the page, moving after his finger into the air. "Only sso much I can tell from them." Patting the manacles he turned his focus to them, "The resst of the magic iss in these."

The dragonborn's attention turned to the chains, tilting them this way and that, muttering under his breath in draconic as he worked. "Mm ... many complicated thingss, yess. I ssee effectss to dull the mind, offer control, and to remove the sspirit." He paused, "Not literally, but one'ss perssonality one might say." He scratched at the chains with a claw, "Eventually, the chainss might not be needed to control, the will is sso weak." Looking at the group over the manacles, he continued, "Truly accurssed, yess. Abussive magicss, to twisst as it does. To ssave people? Thesse have a command word, one can attempt to learn it, I ssupose." Scraping claws on his throat against the scales, "A sstrong enough Disspel Magic could work too, but rissk a trap in the item. The damage done to a persson ... harder to say. The lesss it'ss been, the eassier, I think. Too long, the persson is gone. Then dependss on persson. Strong will, likely lasst longer. Weaker, eassily broken."

Placing them down on the desk, he looked over the group again, "Where did you find ssuch dark thingss?"
 
Huh? Virra stared at Lestone for a few moments after he finished speaking, then raised her hands towards him, palm-first. "Wait wait wait, stop. The Thief is a god? Really?" She struggled to find her words, then glanced over her shoulder towards the others. "None of you knew that either, right? Seriously, I can not be the only one who thought he was just a spirit, or some folk hero brought back from the dead, or..."

She caught herself as she realised they were all moving away, following Ormeth. "Ah, heck. Come on," she said, tugging on Lestone's arm before hurrying off after the main group. She continued to mutter to herself as they navigated the enchanted library ("I mean, it's not like Pyria's a goddess of cooking just because she's old and really good at it. Who'd think that? Bet you're gonna say her doorknob's a god too. God of cozy places, and teleporting. Seriously, did everyone else know...?") but she at least had the sense to shut up while Riffolk spoke.

"We got 'em from a bunch of orcs and ogres out past Wyford," she answered him. "We think they might've been raiders from the sea — heading towards civilisation with a holy woman bound up in those chains so she'd heal them. Where d'you think they might've come from?" she asked, pointing at the manacles on the desk.
 
Eliza stared longingly at the shelves overflowing with arcane knowledge but trudged along behind the group towards this scholar who was able to figure something out before she had...but she wasn't salty. Not at all. "The holy woman isn't faring very well. We think she might have been wearing these manacles for some time and we wanted to figure out a way to dispel its effects on her." The half orc mage tried not to stare self-conciously at the dragonborn's graduate pin but focused on getting as much help from these librarian's as she could for Ander's sake. "Do the ruins mention if its affects are permanent. Is there any way to help the victims heal? If we are able to come up with a cure of some sorts...I feel like there are many poor folk that have been abused with such magics and need help regaining their 'spirits' so to speak."
 
"They come from the Empire of Nagrastir. My home."
The quiet voice of Magnolia ring clear through the air like a bell. Silencing everyone.

woah their kiddo, sure you want to go down that road?

I'm sure, it's time they knew. It's time everyone knew.

Filled with confidence she moved toward the front of the group toward the manacles she had spent her life running from. "What does everyone want to know?"
 
Following along with the group as Virra explained the circumstances of how they'd found the manacles to Ormeth, Tyrius wasn't even thinking of anything in particular. No internal dialogue. Mostly he was trying to remember everything that was said so that he could write a nice detailed diary entry for Elizabeth.

Tyrius came to a dead stop as Magnolia spoke up, momentarily stunned by the sudden piece of information that came from the cleric.

Tyrius looked to Magnolia, wondering what sort of person would ever have even made the manacles in the first place, knowing what they would be used for. Then he realised there were people in the world who gave no thought to their fellow humanoids.

"How - prevalent" started Tyrius, trying to think of the right word to use, "are these manacles in the Empire?"
 
Noon of the Twenty-Seventh Day | Porthca | The Aedon House:

Scratching his head, Lestone replied, "He might be? I don't know, he doesn't sound familiar. I'm just going off of the name you used, my knowledge is far more centered around the elements..."

Riffolk's head tilted back and forth at the people speaking, and was about to answer his guess of their source as Magnolia spoke instead. "Yess -- Negrasstir, the few bookss that arrive and sspeak of the country mention their ... methodss when it comess to military and maintaining power." With a claw he tapped his chin, "Ssea raiderss ... we will have to warn the neighboring citiess and townss then, to be on their guard. Perhapss you will get a reward for halting them?"

Adjusting himself in his seat he considered Eliza's comments, "Mm ... as I ssaid, the longer it'ss been, the lesss likely it iss to recover. I am not a healer, my sskillss are in the arcane, and even then, I do not focuss on the mind of a persson." The dragonborn shrugged, "Perssonally, my concern is thesse are on our continent at all. Even here, there are people that would gladly usse such toolss."
 
Ander looked to the dragonborn as a fire burned in his eyes. "I was hopin' you might be able ta manufacture us some kinda key. I don't want ta run into a sitiation wheres we have no minds ta read and our magical pals are too tired ta dispel." His head drops once more, "I can't leave no one in them chains for a moment longer. I need ta save 'em, without hurtin' em further. Even if it means taking the pain myself. My friend, is there any way..." Ander drifted off, clearly exhausted, but he knew there might be a price to pay to keep people safe, and after a long hard think, he knew he was willing to pay it.
 
Eliza laid a hand on Mag's shoulder and tried not to put her foot in her mouth as she said, "If you are as familiar with these manacles as you say then anything you know would be of great help. Do you know who made them?"

'Well, that was not so comforting...'

"Well," she huffed feeling frustrated at their lack of progress, "Giving up on these victims is not an option! Any problem has a solution and we should be able to figure this out like any other puzzle." She declared vehemently.
 
As Mags broke in and Virra realised that she was actually being serious for once, she stepped up and laid her hand on the shoulder that Eliza hadn't taken. Then, when Ander started to lose some of his fire, she reached out to lay her free hand on his arm. As much as it was a treat to see Eliza getting animated too, she keenly felt the need for a third hand to reassure her with. It was a weird feeling, to be caught up in the middle of all that passion her friends were exuding and not to experience it nearly as strongly as they did. It wasn't that Virra didn't hate slavery or want to help Ander find his scattered family, but it felt to her like she hadn't given the matter any real thought until that moment, even after the whole business with Sybeth and the raiding party. The mystic knew herself well enough to guess that she'd grow as invested in the chains issue as her the rest of them given enough time to focus on it, but the fact that she had been so utterly distracted by her own business and Eliza's Chillldrift problem prior to that was a little disquieting, even for her.

"What they said," she butted in when she finally found her words. "Even if there hasn't been any research done on the magic beind these chains yet, any idea of a place to start looking would be good. And an idea of who to talk to about that reward, maybe," she added. Yeah, she thought, giving Magnolia's shoulder a squeeze. I can get behind this. Freeing slaves for profit and warm fuzzies wasn't a bad direction for her career to take after her short-lived stint as an investigator. And she knew a good excuse for travelling abroad when she smelled one. The only potential bump in the road was the lack of information they had to go on -- and Chilldrift, of course. At least she had time to find solutions to those things before they became real problems.
 
Noon of the Twenty-Seventh Day | Porthca | The Aedon House:

The black dragonborn shrugged, hissing under his breath, "I am not an all knowing sspellcasster. My sskillss lay not in ssuch things. What you assk for perhapss would be better requessted of Masster Accmour." With a sigh he scratched at his scales again, "Thiss library would housse many bookss, but I cannot promisse any hold what you sseek. A reward, with proof of your accomplisshment, would likely be best ssought with the guardss."

Patting the stack of books and scrolls around him, "Thesse were my notess and ressourcess for reading the runess. If, as sshe ssays," he gestured to Magnolia, "sshe dealt with the chainss first hand, it iss likely sshe can tell you thingss I can't. If you allow me," leaning on the table and using his tail as an additional brace, the dragonborn stood, adjusting his robes and rubbing away some of the acidic drool that had built up again, "I can requesst Masster Accmour to ssee to your casse. He will be interessted in ssuch a tassk, I think."
 
Listening to Riffolk's suggestion, Tyrius couldn't resist smiling. While he wasn't hard up for money, and in truth none of them were now, money from a legitimate avenue as opposed to a hoard taken from The Thief. Plus it couldn't hurt their reputation in Porthca or around The Sinking Plains - except with slavers and Tyrius wasn't very concerned about what such scummy people thought of him anyway.

'Got to wonder what the implication is of The Thief possibly being a divine being.' thought Tyrius to himself as Riffolk stood up and adjusted his robes. 'Are we going to end up in a position where he could hinder us unless we do something for him?' The single gold piece that Tyrius had had drilled and put on a cord hung around his neck underneath his shirt.

"I think that would be an excellent idea," said Tyrius approvingly, trying to take his mind off the possibilities of The Thief toying with them. Though his mind did snap back to the other 'gift' that The Thief had given him. The ability to alter his appearance to that of a dragonborn for a short length of time. 'Wonder if there is a way to increase the length of time?' thought Tyrius, studying the way Riffolk carried himself while trying not to make it obvious that he was watching.
 
"Sure, sounds good." As much as Virra had been in the (vanishingly rare) mood for research when she arrived, her chat with Lestone was making her reassess what she had come to look into, and the full scale of her pet project was becoming apparent to her. With her diminishing appetite for work, she was fine to quiz the Accmours on the chains rather than follow the others into another time-consuming study session. Besides, there were new concerns to be addressed. "I wonder if the manacles would be good enough as proof, or if they'd need some testimony from the orc we got locked up in Wyford," she mused aloud. "Heck, it might take a really long time to get a confirmation from Ty's brother. Maybe we could arrange for it all to happen while we're on the road...?"
 
Noon of the Twenty-Seventh Day | Porthca | The Aedon House:

While Riffolk stepped away to do his casting, Magnolia looked towards the manacles with distaste evident. Finally answering Ty's question with a word she replied, "Very." Pacing as she continued, a ball of restless energy now that she was talking, the halfling continued, "The Empire uses them everywhere -- in the military, dealing with prisoners and criminals, dissidents against the Emperor, and even as status symbols. The more exotic, and in Negrastir that's a challenge, the more impressive one is considered." The halfling glanced at Ander for a moment then continued on, speaking more softly, "Someone like Pyria ... or that Niradnam fellow -- they'd be worth a small fortune, probably sold to some of the upper royalty."

Magnolia paused, rubbing her neck, "I don't know who made them specifically ... I think that's probably a well guarded secret of the Empire, considering how much relies on their control." The normally excitable and happy cleric suddenly looked very tired, "All I know is they are like a living hell, a haze that controls you, even ... even forcing you to do things that break your heart." Looking down at the floor she placed a hand on her chest, "... but it was that break at least that allowed me to be free ... and escape here. I guess, hah, I guess something snapped a little too much at that moment for the chains to control."

Sounds of scales dragging on the floor become louder as Riffolk returned to lean on the table, "Masster Accmour sshall be here pressently. The tassk intriged him, and he apparently already knew of you all." The draconic black scaled head twisted back and forth to take in the party once more.

In an open space of the library a dark door that shimmered in both a purple and deep green with golden accents appeared quietly, opening as a human man stepped out, tall and regal, long robes barely flowing above the floor he stepped on. Tyrius would recognize this as Master Enol Accmour, the archmage he had spoken with originally with Benito.

Enol nodded faintly to Riffolk, speaking in a respectful but still commanding tone, "Thank you for your summons, Mage Riffolk. You may return to your other tasks for the day." Replying with a deep bow, the dragonborn made a gesture with his talons and the books from the table rose, following him as they returned to their shelves. Recognizing Tyrius, Enol gave him a simple bow of the head, however paused at seeing the rest. "I believe I only met you all briefly at the ... funeral, weeks past. I wish we had gotten to know each other better, and under more favorable circumstances, however not all things are in our hands." Stepping forward he adjusted his robes, the Azarad pin proudly on his collar shown brightly in all schools. Gesturing towards the manacles they floated into the air in front of him, "Mage Riffolk informed me these were quite troublesome and complex ... it seems his old eyes are still correct in their appraisals. There's many layers of magic upon these, woven into the metals themselves, and, if I may say so, the magic itself almost seems vicious."

Circling the offending magical item, the archmage looked at the group, "The Mage also mentioned you were hoping for some ... universal key for these, or even a way to force them broken, routing the pushback onto someone else." Tucking his arms into his sleeves he considered for a moment, "... I have not crafted anything myself for many years. From what I have heard, Porthca owes your small group a great debt, and the Accmours are not known to ignore debts." Moving amongst the group his gaze landed first on Terminus and his panther, then upon Lestone. "You. You look familiar, and not in a pleasant manner." A few sparks rose around the archmage, "I believe last I saw you, you were standing upon the coffin of a dear friend."

Lestone hesitantly raised his hands, "Were it up to me, I'd have never been there -- I promise!"
 
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