Ulric took the late watch, wanting to sleep off his mana exhaustion and preferring the morning hours anyway. Other than the odd foray to the wood pile to keep the fire lit, the witching hours passed peacefully. Their teepee blocked the chill wind and held heat well while the fur bedrolls were sufficient to the task of keeping warm. That wouldn't be the case if the temperatures continued to drop however; it would soon be time to have some sort of internal stove for driving off the cold.
It never ceased to amaze how brilliantly clear the stars shined. Ulric had very intentionally positioned the shelter to have its opening facing the cliff. He was rewarded with the most phenomenal view of the night sky for which he could have ever asked. The moon, much larger in the night sky than its Earthen counterpart, was only a quarter full and had risen early, thus it was nearly down by the time of Ulric's watch. Stars glimmered iridescent in the black of night. Clear blues, whites, and reds could be distinguished. There were some particularly large bodies that might have been planets. He mentally added checking with someone about star charts or astronomy when the opportunity arose.
Time fell away as the sky rotated and Ulric was swept into a trance of being. At last, dawn's approach dimmed the night's phantasmagoria. He stirred then, tended the fire, which had been allowed to burn low, and started a breakfast stew of meats, tubers, and dried herbs in their wooden pot.
The glade had provided. By chance, it turned out that, while trying to fire harden some wood handles, Ulric had discovered one of the unique properties of a variety of small trees which grew at the edges of his glade: the [Steelwood] tree. They were just nearly fireproof and hard as their namesake. He'd refashioned his old spear back when he was mastering the terrain of the glade and had been able to figure out how to use glassresin to join segments shaped of this wood together. Once joined the highly thermally conductive wood tended to pull heat away from the glassresin thus keeping the sealed joints water tight. The result was an almost barrel like pot, heavier than one from his old world but more than serviceable. That same tree had made his bow, along with some glue and bone. It’s inner bark also made a set of water tight baskets that Ulric valued as greatly as his own armor. Containers were king in survival, right up there with cordage.
It had bothered Ulric at first, these clearly magically natured organisms and materials, but he'd long since stopped caring that this world defied science at random turns. All it meant now was that he had a wonderful wooden cookpot and a healthy suspicion that all was not as it seemed in literally everything around him. At some point he would find an encyclopedia of strange shit, that would catalogue the materials and properties of the organisms and ores of this wild assed world. If he didn't find one it would be a fine task to set himself to, to be the author of such text. Provided he did get himself eaten first. Or killed by the dwarves who very possibly jealously guard their metallurgical secrets which tempted Ulric, a former metallurgist, mightily.
Soon the smell of stewing meat and veggies pervaded the camp. Brighteyes was thusly summoned and joined Ulric in a sunrise meal, taken in quiet. When both parties had eaten their fill, cleaning the last of the liquid in the pot up through a gulping slurp of rich juices from their bowls, they disassembled the shelter and made camp disappear back into their packs.
The ashes of the campfire and any other traces would be removed by the gate's own magics, according the Brighteyes.
"Like a great sun, it burns." the elf explained.
"All that is not the stone of the gate is gone. It does not do this while in presence of living beings, it is keyed to the emanation of the core. Old magic and powerful, it does not fade nor need a caster to ready." His awe was evident for the workings of these powers long gone.
That got Ulric to thinking, he was always uncomfortable with references to ancient super power civilizations that fell. There were good reasons when such sophisticated peoples fell to ruin and, normally, a lesson to be learned from their passing.
"What happened to the people who made this magic Brighteyes? Why did they vanish, when they had such power?" He asked.
Brighteyes shook his head immediately and shrugged, replying "None of elf kind know, that is known to my tribe. There was…event…destruction of large scale. Cataclysm. But long, long ago. Ruins all buried deep, none remain on surface. Most that go looking for the graves of Ancients never heard from again. A few bring ruin, uncover the [Dungeons]."
Mention of [Dungeons] got Ulric's attention immediately.
"What are these [Dungeons]?" he asked, wondering at how much overlap existed between the myths of his homeland and the realities of this place.
"[Dungeon] origin not known, only know result. Corrupted core of great mana, creates dense mist of mana that warps beasts exposed too long. Over time, they grow in strength, viciousness, and cunning. Monsters of [Dungeon] tied to it, cannot leave for long but can come to surface through veins of [Dungeon] expansion. [Dungeon] grows always, make corridors, mazes, in the confines of its power, reality is not what it seems, is twisted. If left unchecked, can reach surface eventually. Happens sometimes that growth nodes not detected, opens to land and monsters rush out, destroy village or try, and return days later. Father thinks [Dungeons] were how Ancients guard their cities, living defense system to raise army and attack on own. Maybe cause Cataclysm, if all [Dungeon] break open at same time. But is not certain, Ulric Glade Chief. Only known that sometimes artifacts of great power found in [Dungeon]. Relics. And, if reach core, almost never happens, can absorb part of power into self. Magnify own strength, become something greater. Sometimes something terrible, if go worms in head when it happens. Bad places, mostly, best avoid." Brighteyes was somber during this recitation of knowledge. He made it clear he didn't even like discussing the [Dungeons] so Ulric let it lie.
"No worries there Brighteyes. I've lived here a single season and this old forest has basically kicked my ass. No need to go hunting trouble." Ulric was quick to reassure his companion that he had no intention of stirring hornet's nests.
"Let's get this lift going, shall we?"
At Ulric's insistence Brighteyes approached the crystal pagoda and laid a hand on the stylized downward arrow, which nearly made Ulric giggle at its sheer bizarre familiarity. Here they were leaving Fern Gulley to visit the Elven homelands and they were going to take the elevator. Life has a funny way of taking the familiar and turning it on its head.
Brighteyes' touch did nothing, or at least it seemed that way at first. A few seconds later though the symbol lit from within, glowing a blue white light and the crystal obelisk began to softly emit the same light while the white swathes of whispy color within the blue started to swirl.
It was an eerie second before Ulric realized that they were, in fact, descending rapidly. He'd felt nothing and, if he hadn't turned from his study of the light show on that crystal, he'd have never known they were moving. They should definitely be feeling some weightlessness, at least when the damn thing had started falling. The landscape was changing rapidly, their approach to the forest below marked by sight only, designs on pillars shooting by to let him see how rapidly they made their descent but with no movement of air within the [Ancient’s Gate] or sensation to denote any motion whatsoever. Fucking creepy.
In a scant few minutes, the trees, so distant their canopies were an impressionist blur of greens and browns, rose up to meet the travelers as if they'd jumped from the top and they penetrated the tree tops at frightful speed. The gate came to a rest, again, without sensation. If not for the fact that he'd been watching the pillars and the surroundings Ulric would have never known they had just lost a couple of kilometers altitude in barely half a minute. Impressive work, that was.
The obelisk light dimmed and that was evidently the only indication you were going to get that the lift had stopped.
Ulric turned to Brighteyes, still slightly flabbergasted at the experience. His eyes took in an elf that appeared to be turning several shades of green. Several burps escaped the mortified boy. It was pretty clear which direction this was going to go.
"Brighteyes did you know it was going to be like that?"
"No, Ulric, was odd. Moving but no feeling moving, it makes mind spin. Can I be sick?" He answered his own question by spewing a fine spread of breakfast over the platform stones.
Hands on knees and he did not look to be having fun. After having wiped his mouth, the elf turned sheepishly to Ulric and raised his eyebrows, his expressive almond eyes heavy with motion sickness.
"Ulric Glade Chief, next time you turn on magic while I sleep."
The lad was clearly not having a great time.
Ulric chuckled and steered the conversation elsewhere hoping to cheer his traveling partner up and gloss over the sickness, which embarrassed some folk. He'd spent his whole life driving cars so motion sickness like this was long forgotten. But moving without sensation could really jerk with the visual vestibular integration. The eyes tell you you're whipping around, the vestibular organs of the inner ear detect nothing, and the conflicting neural input had the result of intense nausea.
The experience was highly unpleasant. It was especially hard on a high strung elf kid trying to project confidence on what amounted to, their first big field trip. Ulric had taken a fishing tour once, on rough seas. He'd never been in a boat before that and the rolling swells had induced projectile vomiting nearly immediately. The trip was one of the worst experiences of his life. He had spent nearly four hours barely able to stand before it had eased, and hadn't been able to eat or drink until back on land.
Sickness was generally damaging to the pride of someone who was normally completely in control of their faculties and they disliked the perception of weakness or vulnerability to something that apparently affected only them. Needless to say, he was sympathetic to Brighteyes' plight. Coming up with a diversion would be good for the both of them. It was also an opportunity to address something that had long needed attention.
"You got it kid. It helps with such things, just so you know, if you focus your attention on the floor or other fixed points that won't move. By the way, you don't need to keep calling me Glade Chief. Ulric is good enough, it's not like I was elected by the bushes or something. Which reminds me, I gave you a nickname way back when we first met, it didn't particularly mean anything. I didn't know what else to call you. You got a real name I should know?"
Now Brighteyes did look to improve a bit. He straightened up and even smiled.
"Thank you for honor Ulric Glade- Ulric. Some consider it rude to address recognized ruler without title. But I am glad you have no barbs on the pants about it. One neighboring ambassador act like being called by name is insult against mother tree, we know each other for ten world turnings, he still this way."
Wow that was fast, Ulric thought. Now Brighteyes sounded more like he did before, when he didn't know Ulric had been, apparently, Landed by the Akashic record. Man that status thing was all kinds of fucky, how did it know- no, save it for later, he'd wasted enough time thinking about that impossible shit, and Brighteyes was still talking.
"For my name, Brighteyes is fine, is name you give me and is acceptable. You would not know elf custom, and you need learn more Elf language, but most elf names are stylized description given by parents. Elves named twice, once when born, placeholder name as they are baby and all babies the same. Get second name at coming of age. My Naming given last world turn, last year. I am known to my people as Heir Lumyt'seit. It translate to Human language as Flashing Gaze. Was given by my mother."
Ulric closed his mouth, which had dropped, and scratched his beard sheepishly before laughing at the sheer coincidence.
"Pretty nail on the head then eh?" Ulric chuckled again.
"So, Brighteyes it is then?" He checked.
The young elf, smiled and dipped his chin once.
"Brighteyes it is Ulric, is fine name."
And, there you had it, he'd got it in one and Brighteyes would remain Brighteyes.
Ulric took the late watch, wanting to sleep off his mana exhaustion and preferring the morning hours anyway. Other than the odd foray to the wood pile to keep the fire lit, the witching hours passed peacefully. Their teepee blocked the chill wind and held heat well while the fur bedrolls were sufficient to the task of keeping warm. That wouldn't be the case if the temperatures continued to drop however; it would soon be time to have some sort of internal stove for driving off the cold.
It never ceased to amaze how brilliantly clear the stars shined. Ulric had very intentionally positioned the shelter to have its opening facing the cliff. He was rewarded with the most phenomenal view of the night sky for which he could have ever asked. The moon, much larger in the night sky than its Earthen counterpart, was only a quarter full and had risen early, thus it was nearly down by the time of Ulric's watch. Stars glimmered iridescent in the black of night. Clear blues, whites, and reds could be distinguished. There were some particularly large bodies that might have been planets. He mentally added checking with someone about star charts or astronomy when the opportunity arose.
Time fell away as the sky rotated and Ulric was swept into a trance of being. At last, dawn's approach dimmed the night's phantasmagoria. He stirred then, tended the fire, which had been allowed to burn low, and started a breakfast stew of meats, tubers, and dried herbs in their wooden pot.
The glade had provided. By chance, it turned out that, while trying to fire harden some wood handles, Ulric had discovered one of the unique properties of a variety of small trees which grew at the edges of his glade: the [Steelwood] tree. They were just nearly fireproof and hard as their namesake. He'd refashioned his old spear back when he was mastering the terrain of the glade and had been able to figure out how to use glassresin to join segments shaped of this wood together. Once joined the highly thermally conductive wood tended to pull heat away from the glassresin thus keeping the sealed joints water tight. The result was an almost barrel like pot, heavier than one from his old world but more than serviceable. That same tree had made his bow, along with some glue and bone. It’s inner bark also made a set of water tight baskets that Ulric valued as greatly as his own armor. Containers were king in survival, right up there with cordage.
It had bothered Ulric at first, these clearly magically natured organisms and materials, but he'd long since stopped caring that this world defied science at random turns. All it meant now was that he had a wonderful wooden cookpot and a healthy suspicion that all was not as it seemed in literally everything around him. At some point he would find an encyclopedia of strange shit, that would catalogue the materials and properties of the organisms and ores of this wild assed world. If he didn't find one it would be a fine task to set himself to, to be the author of such text. Provided he did get himself eaten first. Or killed by the dwarves who very possibly jealously guard their metallurgical secrets which tempted Ulric, a former metallurgist, mightily.
Soon the smell of stewing meat and veggies pervaded the camp. Brighteyes was thusly summoned and joined Ulric in a sunrise meal, taken in quiet. When both parties had eaten their fill, cleaning the last of the liquid in the pot up through a gulping slurp of rich juices from their bowls, they disassembled the shelter and made camp disappear back into their packs.
The ashes of the campfire and any other traces would be removed by the gate's own magics, according the Brighteyes.
"Like a great sun, it burns." the elf explained.
"All that is not the stone of the gate is gone. It does not do this while in presence of living beings, it is keyed to the emanation of the core. Old magic and powerful, it does not fade nor need a caster to ready." His awe was evident for the workings of these powers long gone.
That got Ulric to thinking, he was always uncomfortable with references to ancient super power civilizations that fell. There were good reasons when such sophisticated peoples fell to ruin and, normally, a lesson to be learned from their passing.
"What happened to the people who made this magic Brighteyes? Why did they vanish, when they had such power?" He asked.
Brighteyes shook his head immediately and shrugged, replying "None of elf kind know, that is known to my tribe. There was…event…destruction of large scale. Cataclysm. But long, long ago. Ruins all buried deep, none remain on surface. Most that go looking for the graves of Ancients never heard from again. A few bring ruin, uncover the [Dungeons]."
Mention of [Dungeons] got Ulric's attention immediately.
"What are these [Dungeons]?" he asked, wondering at how much overlap existed between the myths of his homeland and the realities of this place.
"[Dungeon] origin not known, only know result. Corrupted core of great mana, creates dense mist of mana that warps beasts exposed too long. Over time, they grow in strength, viciousness, and cunning. Monsters of [Dungeon] tied to it, cannot leave for long but can come to surface through veins of [Dungeon] expansion. [Dungeon] grows always, make corridors, mazes, in the confines of its power, reality is not what it seems, is twisted. If left unchecked, can reach surface eventually. Happens sometimes that growth nodes not detected, opens to land and monsters rush out, destroy village or try, and return days later. Father thinks [Dungeons] were how Ancients guard their cities, living defense system to raise army and attack on own. Maybe cause Cataclysm, if all [Dungeon] break open at same time. But is not certain, Ulric Glade Chief. Only known that sometimes artifacts of great power found in [Dungeon]. Relics. And, if reach core, almost never happens, can absorb part of power into self. Magnify own strength, become something greater. Sometimes something terrible, if go worms in head when it happens. Bad places, mostly, best avoid." Brighteyes was somber during this recitation of knowledge. He made it clear he didn't even like discussing the [Dungeons] so Ulric let it lie.
"No worries there Brighteyes. I've lived here a single season and this old forest has basically kicked my ass. No need to go hunting trouble." Ulric was quick to reassure his companion that he had no intention of stirring hornet's nests.
"Let's get this lift going, shall we?"
At Ulric's insistence Brighteyes approached the crystal pagoda and laid a hand on the stylized downward arrow, which nearly made Ulric giggle at its sheer bizarre familiarity. Here they were leaving Fern Gulley to visit the Elven homelands and they were going to take the elevator. Life has a funny way of taking the familiar and turning it on its head.
Brighteyes' touch did nothing, or at least it seemed that way at first. A few seconds later though the symbol lit from within, glowing a blue white light and the crystal obelisk began to softly emit the same light while the white swathes of whispy color within the blue started to swirl.
It was an eerie second before Ulric realized that they were, in fact, descending rapidly. He'd felt nothing and, if he hadn't turned from his study of the light show on that crystal, he'd have never known they were moving. They should definitely be feeling some weightlessness, at least when the damn thing had started falling. The landscape was changing rapidly, their approach to the forest below marked by sight only, designs on pillars shooting by to let him see how rapidly they made their descent but with no movement of air within the [Ancient’s Gate] or sensation to denote any motion whatsoever. Fucking creepy.
In a scant few minutes, the trees, so distant their canopies were an impressionist blur of greens and browns, rose up to meet the travelers as if they'd jumped from the top and they penetrated the tree tops at frightful speed. The gate came to a rest, again, without sensation. If not for the fact that he'd been watching the pillars and the surroundings Ulric would have never known they had just lost a couple of kilometers altitude in barely half a minute. Impressive work, that was.
The obelisk light dimmed and that was evidently the only indication you were going to get that the lift had stopped.
Ulric turned to Brighteyes, still slightly flabbergasted at the experience. His eyes took in an elf that appeared to be turning several shades of green. Several burps escaped the mortified boy. It was pretty clear which direction this was going to go.
"Brighteyes did you know it was going to be like that?"
"No, Ulric, was odd. Moving but no feeling moving, it makes mind spin. Can I be sick?" He answered his own question by spewing a fine spread of breakfast over the platform stones.
Hands on knees and he did not look to be having fun. After having wiped his mouth, the elf turned sheepishly to Ulric and raised his eyebrows, his expressive almond eyes heavy with motion sickness.
"Ulric Glade Chief, next time you turn on magic while I sleep."
The lad was clearly not having a great time.
Ulric chuckled and steered the conversation elsewhere hoping to cheer his traveling partner up and gloss over the sickness, which embarrassed some folk. He'd spent his whole life driving cars so motion sickness like this was long forgotten. But moving without sensation could really jerk with the visual vestibular integration. The eyes tell you you're whipping around, the vestibular organs of the inner ear detect nothing, and the conflicting neural input had the result of intense nausea.
The experience was highly unpleasant. It was especially hard on a high strung elf kid trying to project confidence on what amounted to, their first big field trip. Ulric had taken a fishing tour once, on rough seas. He'd never been in a boat before that and the rolling swells had induced projectile vomiting nearly immediately. The trip was one of the worst experiences of his life. He had spent nearly four hours barely able to stand before it had eased, and hadn't been able to eat or drink until back on land.
Sickness was generally damaging to the pride of someone who was normally completely in control of their faculties and they disliked the perception of weakness or vulnerability to something that apparently affected only them. Needless to say, he was sympathetic to Brighteyes' plight. Coming up with a diversion would be good for the both of them. It was also an opportunity to address something that had long needed attention.
"You got it kid. It helps with such things, just so you know, if you focus your attention on the floor or other fixed points that won't move. By the way, you don't need to keep calling me Glade Chief. Ulric is good enough, it's not like I was elected by the bushes or something. Which reminds me, I gave you a nickname way back when we first met, it didn't particularly mean anything. I didn't know what else to call you. You got a real name I should know?"
Now Brighteyes did look to improve a bit. He straightened up and even smiled.
"Thank you for honor Ulric Glade- Ulric. Some consider it rude to address recognized ruler without title. But I am glad you have no barbs on the pants about it. One neighboring ambassador act like being called by name is insult against mother tree, we know each other for ten world turnings, he still this way."
Wow that was fast, Ulric thought. Now Brighteyes sounded more like he did before, when he didn't know Ulric had been, apparently, Landed by the Akashic record. Man that status thing was all kinds of fucky, how did it know- no, save it for later, he'd wasted enough time thinking about that impossible shit, and Brighteyes was still talking.
"For my name, Brighteyes is fine, is name you give me and is acceptable. You would not know elf custom, and you need learn more Elf language, but most elf names are stylized description given by parents. Elves named twice, once when born, placeholder name as they are baby and all babies the same. Get second name at coming of age. My Naming given last world turn, last year. I am known to my people as Heir Lumyt'seit. It translate to Human language as Flashing Gaze. Was given by my mother."
Ulric closed his mouth, which had dropped, and scratched his beard sheepishly before laughing at the sheer coincidence.
"Pretty nail on the head then eh?" Ulric chuckled again.
"So, Brighteyes it is then?" He checked.
The young elf, smiled and dipped his chin once.
"Brighteyes it is Ulric, is fine name."
And, there you had it, he'd got it in one and Brighteyes would remain Brighteyes.
