Linaural Urilaentai: Difference between revisions
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they were the prey to an oppresive hunter/brother. <br> | |||
They are gone, mostly forgotten. Yet there are things that they have left the world that have been found by others, in different ages. <br> | |||
None know how long before they were absorbed into the ranks of their cousins that the Falatacot walked, and none may ever know. The knowledge is occulted in the deep recesses of the world. Perhaps never to be found. And though we are an old race of people. We are not eternal. | |||
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Revision as of 19:02, 12 January 2009
From the Gelidite Library (Quest) Quest, introduced during the Betrayal event.
Linaural Urilaentai
A tome of four distinct colors, fasted in an iron bound leather binding. Surprising light for such a large tome, the book bears no scent of age, though it is written in an old for of Empyrean . It can be translated by one skilled in the Empyrean languages.
This book is written in Yalaini and must be translated.
Pretranslation Author: unknown
Translator: Bretself the Translator
Translator Speech:
You give Bretself the Translator Linaural Urilaentai.
Bretself the Translator tells you, "An interesting read, a bit fanatical in spot. I have made notes where they are applicable."
Bretself the Translator gives you Tome of the Elements.
[You cannot read this, and must bring it to a translator.]
Tome of the Elements
A tome of four distinct colors, fasted in an iron bound leather binding. Surprising light for such a large tome, the book bears no scent of age, though it is written in an old form of Empyrean. It has been translated for ease of reading..44 of 44 pages full.
Where it is applicable I have added notes in paranthesis to highlight words as we would speak them in everyday tongue.
The Falatacot, studied the art of Geomancy with an unquenchable thirst. They called upon the resonance that echoed from within the world at the structures erected in the time before. They found that it was here, on Ireth Lassel, that mana was most concentrated, and plentiful.
Their priestesses, used their arts to fuse snakes and servitors into beings that would join them in blood rites, sacrificing unwary captives to the voices that echoed from the world. Their beloved Old Ones. In the places where their shrines and temples were erected, they heard the voices.
The voices granted them knowledge beyond the bounds of what any other of our race had ever known and they learned the full potential of the arcane. We use the shadow to our own effects when it suits us, but never to the level that the true masters of the arts could, and did.
Pulling the shadows in blankets, they hid themselves from the eyes of those that would persecute. They lived in the mire of the world and listened to the words that the voice called to them. Far to the west, beyond the scope of Ireth Lassel they erected their homes, secluded, removed and all together separate.
Scholars all, some to a fault. They watched from afar and in time fell further into the darkness. They uncovered arcane arts that even they would not enact, as the cost for such was too high. Blood was life, and without blood there was only death.
In time the great cold came and forced them from their homes. They wandered into the holds of their cousins, the Dericost and were tolerated as they shared their arts.
Passing carefully hidden truths to the Dericost brought about change. Yet the Falatacot, held many arts secret and in darkness still.
There in the darkness, they sequestered tomes of inordinate power and enacted rites of the most foul and bloody persuasion. Killing to them was another form of seeing that life continued and their rites increased the power of their preistesses to a point that none save, their darkest lord could comprehend.
Sects began forming within, small splinter factions that studied the aspects of the Blood of the World and called back to the voice that beckoned them. Others moved further into the shadow, heeding the dark call of the darkness made whole, flocking to the one who shall not be named.
Others studied the arts of creation and formation. Some studied arts of mechanism and toil. But all studied within the darkness and the reach of that voice. Then when their veil was pierced and their world came under the mighty foot of their oppressors, their tomes, and their arts fell dormant. Lost to time and given over to destruction and the call of entropy.
It was here that the construction of this book would have begun, and the very reason for this preface. They were a people that were brought together under harsh conditions, struggling to improve that which had been granted them, even whilst
they were the prey to an oppresive hunter/brother.
They are gone, mostly forgotten. Yet there are things that they have left the world that have been found by others, in different ages.
None know how long before they were absorbed into the ranks of their cousins that the Falatacot walked, and none may ever know. The knowledge is occulted in the deep recesses of the world. Perhaps never to be found. And though we are an old race of people. We are not eternal.
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-- Gaerlan (first page by Translator)