High Elf Chapter 14
High Elf Chapter 14 Order Storyline
location: Menuthil's Burden, Saphery
npc: Menuthil Fargaze
Public Quest: Anudda Brick in Da Wall
Public Quest: Sweating the Stone
Public Quest: Hall of the Crimson Shroud
Chapter Lore: Whispered voices wreathed the circular tower chamber, creating a curtain of gentle sound. Stone benches rose along the walls from a sunken central plane upon which a pedestal had been placed. Displayed on the table, a detailed map of Ulthuan trembled beneath the hand of an ancient sage.
Saruthil gazed down upon the island of his birth with sorrowful eyes. The warnings he had secreted throughout the Blighted Isle had proven unable to prevent the cataclysm he had once feared more than death itself. Those gathered in the tower were the shining flowers of Ulthuan, and yet each of them was crippled. Cut off from the knowledge of the time before the Sundering, Saruthil knew none of those now in power could reach out to stop the coming apocalypse.
Every battle where kin slaughtered kin, every struggle for control over the magical energies underpinning the land, every life lost was echoed in the world beneath. The High Elves were tied to the land as no other race. Already the island had begun to shift, small tremors and violent storms presaging the greater disaster. Saruthil knew the time had come.
"Loremaster Berliol," he spoke, and the chamber grew quiet in an instant. "I must go to the Isle of the Dead."
"Sage," Berliol answered, "is now really the time to make peace with the past? Ulthuan is at war!"
"Time is never a straight line, my friends. We who live down through the ages should be able to recognize the returning patterns as we circle through. The battle that rages across Ulthuan is merely the echo of a much greater conflict."
The sage's eyes searched out and met each of the others before continuing. "Our best chance for victory lies in strengthening the Vortex."
The mention of the Vortex elicited an indrawn gasp of dismay as the listening group of High Elves recalled Caledor's flawed plan. The most powerful mages in Saphery had been approached by the obsessed prince, but not all had agreed to take part. Saruthil had been called upon to aid in the master spell, and had refused, choosing instead to flee Ulthuan altogether. The creation of the Chaos-draining maelstrom had cost not only the lives of Aenarion and his dragon Indraugnir, but locked the Archmages involved in a state outside of time.
A sudden tremor shook the White Tower, tossing the map to the floor. Fine cracks appeared on the white marble surfaces, marring the featureless stone as the shaking intensified. Voices rose in alarm as the collection of mages, loremasters, and military commanders futily attempted to identify the source of the new threat.
"My friends, the ending of Ulthuan is begun." Turning, Berliol was struck by the fierce light blazing forth from the sage's eyes. Saruthil stood alone, a sole upright figure adrift in a tremulous white sea.
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