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 Time's arrow (Espial/open) 
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Stablehand
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Joined: Fri Jan 16, 2004 3:25 am
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Post Time's arrow (Espial/open)
The dust motes hung suspended in the light, catching the light and soaring this way and that, borne on the barely noticed breeze which stirred the slothful air into motion. The sun poured in throught the huge glass dome which topped the structure, reflecting from the dust as it swirled with lazy motion giving the room the look of fool's gold, the notorious rock whose glittering smile had bedevilled prospectors across Tonan's spine; what had been built as a large, spacious cavity deep in the belly of the administrative core had been changed by generation upon generation into a room with stuffy, closeted air and contents more valuable than any beglittered rock.

The walls were lined with paper; stiffened scrolls which refused to bend without the most tender of touches, which cracked and splintered under the touch. Leather-backed books with cracked and warped spines, unable to hold within the pages which constantly threatened to spill onto the boot-flattened rugs below. Long faded ink with promises of forgotten lore, gothic tomes, grimoires, volumes of foreign scrawl which would bring to mind white-bearded wizards and demonic summonings rather than the bent shoulders and tender, loving ministrations of the administrative staff. Shelf upon shelf was filled with yellowed parchment, each wooden pigeon hole labelled in barely legible shorthand according to some archaic filing system which made little sense to any but the long-serving attendees of the scrolls.

It was this room, with the solid and deeply varnished mahogony study tables peopled with a constantly changing huddle of archeologists, theologists and men of thought, which had born witness to the study of the Sli-Nau rails. Whilst the ripples of rumour and half-baked theory had spread across the continent, the ancient building tacked seemingly randomly to the rundown monastery ruins had slowly accumulated those willing and ready to devote their time to the study of the ancient structures and artefacts.

The group was not large, though was somewhat larger than Chalchiuhtotolin had expected; they had arrived in dribs and drabs, bringing with them little but their belongings and an open mind. Those whose intentions were more (and at once less) than they seemed were soon found out and expelled, sent with food and a mount towards the settlements not a few days travel hence - but those people could be counted on one hand. The atmosphere was one of intense study and the imminent realisation of a collective dream; a breakthrough into history and technology the likes of which had not been seen. Reputations were to be forged upon those study tables, names to be spread from that dust laden air across the continent: these, history would state, were the people who made the first steps to discovery. These were the folk who saw it first.

The long-hidden secrets of history were poised to be revealed, with a quiet air of urgency and frustration belying the lack of deadlines or hurry. Each man - and woman, as the fairer sex had representation - bore the frown lines of eagerness to unlock the secrets of the long-dead. As life elsewhere went on undisturbed, as war raged across the continent unchecked and soldiers lived and died at the point of an iron blade, a dozen weary-eyed men eased open another set of ancient scrolls in a bid to change the world.

And through the quiet, unhurried rooms stalked Chalchiuhtotolin, advisor to the Prophet and seemingly ever-present at the soaring gates at the entrance of the ruined monastery to welcome newcomers.

_________________
-Chalchiuhtotolin, advisor of Espial
And thus I clothe my naked villainy
With old odd ends, stol'n forth of holy writ;
And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.


Wed May 05, 2004 2:46 pm
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"Well, the angle here is-"

"No. No not there, here."

"Yes, but if the alignment doesn't"

"It does, look at this one."

Another scroll was dragged across the table and another puff of dust airborne. Unnoticed however, was the vision these three men presented. Older, wiser, surely - but covered in dust, hair, and the darkened eyes of men who'd slept little and read much over the last few weeks.

"Wait. Just wait. We're arguing over presentation, not function. Who cares if it looks good?" The elder scholar from a southern city finally had had enough with the back and forth over what he felt was an unimportant tangent.

"It isn't aesthetic. It's the pivot of the entire process. Function starts and ends here. Look, the flow lines from the jewels all divert from the main paths and come through here. This single jewel. That's our problem. That's why this hasn't been working. This jewel isn't in position." Decae leaned back, his stomach growling had startled him. Not that it was growling, but that he'd heard it.

"Right, well... no is it?" All of them were tired and even the simple points were beginning to fade into obscurity.

"Gentlemen, let's stop."

All the eyes turned to Decae as he uttered the phrase they'd never thought to hear. For months now the force of his conviction had pushed forward this at one time small band of researches into a fervor of discovery. They had went from a relative few unnamed, to a group of acknowledged scholars (and warriors to protect them) known as Espial.

"Let's eat, sleep, and perhaps let our brains relax a bit. We have other matters to attend to that are also important."

"What is that?" Both of the others chimed in unison.

"Our bodies, friends. Our bodies." Smiling broadly, he got up and left them to sit staring. It had been the first time in forever that he would not be seen hunched over the table, bread in hand, or wine at his elbow - ignored. Try as they might, the work ethic of the profit was not to be disturbed, until today.

Turning back he quickly added, "I'll buy." Chuckling as he walked away. As if that was an issue.

The old men behind him started laughing. The Sli-Nau rails were close.

_________________
I will reach lows beyond reproach for you.


Wed May 05, 2004 3:27 pm
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The room reaked of age tickling the small hairs within his nose. Looking about at the words and thoughts of men long dead and forgotten by the rest the world Luclin could only wondered what the rest had wanted here. Something about The Sli-Nau rails, the gods only knew what on Tanan those could be. Research and words, unless they dealt with tactics or sword intreseted him not. Phylosiphy though not lost on him was of a mute note. The protection of those studying the musty and rotting scriblings where his only concern.


"Well, the angle here is-"


Luclin listened with half an ear looking in the niches and cubbies. One book caught his intrest it seemed untouched by time and almost new, compaired to the others in this "libary". Taking it in hand Luclin sneezed loudly as the pages within the binding fell to the floor as dust.


"Cursed place." He muttered silently slipping the book backing hoping none noticed. His foot scraping across the carpet vainly trying to hid the pile of dust there. He soon became frustrated that the the pile did not disapate but split into lesser pile. Rubbing his nose he moved back to the door his hand falling upon the sword at his hip as if nothing happened.


Two words caught the young man's ears and perked his intret more then all this history and arcane working could.


"I'll buy."


A smile on his face he opened the door for the older men. As Decae passed he let out.


"I knew there be a reason I protect you lot....You provide my drink."
Adding a bow wit a flourish, his right hand extended towards the chambers door indicating the elderd should go first.

_________________
Luclin
Fas est etab hoste 'doecri.
Is is right to learn, even from your enemies-Socrates

DEM/WHAM/WTFPWND
Nether= god of Icons.


Fri May 07, 2004 2:29 am
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