Road Trip to the Dragon Isles - Trapped in the Sands of Time

02 Deepkolt 349 AC

Morning does not arrive so much as thr black of night fades into a silvery-gray haze. As soon as the group wakes, Granite explains what he learned. Arthur gives the word and the party makes ready to leave.

Agnes opens the door. The hallway stands empty, just polished stone and sconces with purple flames lighting the way.

Before they can make it more than a few steps, they hear footfalls approaching. Nicholas appears from around the bend in the corridor. "Ahhh... you are awake. I come bearing news."

Arthur looks at Nicholas, "What is this news?"

Nicholas gestures lightly down the corridor.
“A storm has settled over the Sands of Time. It formed not long before dawn.”

Davaa frowns, “There was no wind last night.”

Nicholas nods, “Yes. That is… not uncommon here.”

Granite grumbles.

Nicholas continues, unbothered. “Travel would be… unwise. The sands are unstable. Visibility is poor.”

The howl of wind echoes through the tower.

"Granite, how confident are you in a storm such as this?" He keeps an eye on Nicholas. He then whispers in the dwarf’s ear. "Are you able to tell if it was natural or if it was magical?"

"Navigation would depend on how bad the storm is. As far as being magic goes, this is the Sands of Time. This place has a reputation for this sort of thing," Granite replies. "We can leave, lad but there be no guarantee we won't be walking out of the mine shaft and into a cave-in."

Footsteps come from the opposite direction. A tall and slender Khur with a short gray beard rounds the corner. An otter rides on his black-robed shoulders. The animal lifts its head and stares intently at Agnes, its claws dig into the fabric of its master's robe.

"Nicholas,” Rohzgan says evenly, though his gaze is already drifting past him. “I had wondered if our guests would attempt an early departure.”

A faint, humorless smile touches his lips.
“The Sands are… unpredictable this morning,” he says. “I would advise caution.”

"Let's go back into our room for the time being then. We can check periodically on the storm throughout the day." Arthur keeps his eyes on Rohzgan, "Many things in this world are... unpredictable are they not?" He waits for his friends to enter.

Rohzgan smiles. "Unpredictably is a matter of perception, is it not?" The otter shifts on his shoulder, still staring at Agnes. Nicholas stands stiffly, aware of the tension between the wizard and the knight, but not of the source.

Davaa and Altan back toward the room, eyes never leaving the wizard. Phineas stands a moment longer until Agnes gives him a gentle touch, guiding him toward the door.

"Rest well, warrior. The Tower is...quite safe," Rohzgan says.

"Aye," replies Granite, "as safe as a sealed tunnel. Nothing gets in or out."

Arthur smiles back "I like to think of it as an unseen or unaccounted variable that presents itself at the wrong time." He closes the door behind him as he enters the room. "D@!$ it all..." Arthur paces "I feel as if one of them conjured up the sandstorm to keep us here but I have no proof."

Granite scratches his beard. "Lad, ye don't need to see the hammer to know what broke the stone."

Davaa frowns. "This storm is a cage made of weather."

Phineas chimes in, pacing now too, though in tighter, erratic circles. “Yes, exactly! It’s a plausibly deniable environmental hazard! Very elegant, really—no direct aggression, but total situational control."

Agnes steps closer to Arthur, her voice calm. “They’re not trying to convince us,” she says. “They’re trying to shape our choices.”

Davaa leans against the wall, arms crossed. “The young one—Nicholas,” he says. “He was uneasy. When Zalthex spoke to Agnes… he didn’t like it.”

Altan nods. “And Rohzgan,” he adds. “Nicholas didn’t understand him. That much was clear.”

Granite raises one eyebrow, "A weak link?"

Phineas raises a finger, "I have a suggestion. Agnes should accept the tour."

Altan frowns. Davaa immediately responds that her going off, alone, with the wizard is too dangerous.

Granite strokes his beard and looks over at Arthur and Agnes.

"He has been eyeing her up like a prize or someone he can claim, it doesn't set well with me. He wants to separate us... but ultimately if Agnes chooses to I can't tell her no even though I want to." He holds her hand and rests his head on her shoulder. "Ultimately, it's your choice, love..." he straightens up and looks at the door his mind and heart filled with unease. "Phineas, why do you think she should accept?"

"If this is a conjured storm, then a powerful wizard would have needed to cast the spell. Zalthex is the prime suspect," Phineas begins. "Agnes would be able to distract him, possibly gaining information from him while the rest of us can explore the tower without him observing us. We can try to isolate Nicholas and see if he can be turned to our side. And, it may give us an opportunity to deal with Rohzgan."

Arthur sits, "Remember, they said not to leave the first floor. And with what Granite said I wouldn't doubt that they know what we are doing at all times but I get what you're saying as well." He rubs the back of his neck, "This is something I can't make a decision alone on. This is something we need to vote on."

"No," Agnes replies softly. "This is what we need to do."

Arthur looks at the group. "As far as we know there are only three wizards here, so should we talk to Nicolas while Agnes is taking the tour? That way, we can have a guide of the Tower. And someone on our side if Rohzgan decides to try anything."

"Four wizards, my boy. Zalthex, Rohzgan, Nicholas, and that Ogderel fellow," Phineas corrects.

Arthur nods, "Right. I had forgotten about him. Should we wait till nightfall or try and do it during the day?"

Davaa replies, "The sooner we start, the sooner we can escape this place."

"Alright, let's get to it then,"Arthur replies.

Agnes stands up, "We'll have one of the younger mages send word to Zalthex that i will take that tour now."

Granite looks at Arthur, "Have to divide the others among the rest of us."

He holds up one finger, "Phineas and me? We'll take Nicholas. Keep softening him up before the others can sway him. That leaves Rohzgan and Ogderel. Which one do ye want, lad?"

"I should probably talk to Ogderel. Let's face it, if Rohzgan and I are in a room alone we would probably end up in a fight and one of us, more than likely me, would end up dead."

Davaa shakes his head, "Don't sell yourself short, Arthur. You defeated that octo-catfish wizard after all!"

Altan nods in agreement, "Don't worry about. We'll deal with Rohzgan for you."

"Everyone, be careful," Agnes says, "meet back here at noon."

The party heads out, splitting into groups so they can work on each of the tower's inhabitants individually. Fortunately, they locate their quarry in the dining hall. Agnes quickly puts on a smile, "Master Zalthex, it seems that my companions and I must wait out this storm. Would that tour still be available?"

The elder wizard rises smoothly from his seat, taking his staff in one hand and replies, "Of course, Your Grace." He offers her his free arm and she smiles sweetly, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow. "It would be my genuine pleasure to escort you. Let us begin with the observatory."

Granite and Phineas approach Nicholas. The dwarf hitches his trousers. "Morning to ya, lad. I was wonderin' if ye might be open to continuin' the barter session we started last night?"

Nicholas nods and wipes his mouth on a cloth napkin, "Certainly, Master Dwarf, Professor. Would you like some breakfast before we begin?"

Phineas smiles, "Oh yes, My Boy! Smashing idea. One negotiates better with a warm belly, they say!"

Rohzgan is already in motion, following Zalthex and Agnes from the chamber, his black-eyed otter staring steadily at Agnes. Davaa and Altan fall in at the back of the procession. Altan nods in Arthur’s direction as their impromptu parade files out of the room.

That leaves Arthur alone with Ogderel.

The young wizard pokes at his breakfast with a fork, stirring his eggs slowly around the plate for several seconds before asking, "Would you like to sit? If I am to be interrogated, we may as well both be comfortable."

Arthur takes a seat and looks to the young wizard, "I wouldn't say 'interrogated'. Interrogation would suggest that I'm going to torture you. No, I merely have questions." He looks him up and down, "Let's say this storm isn't 100% natural. Why would someone or something be coaxing us to stay here in this tower? Also, what is this tower? Why is Zalthex so enthralled with Agnes?" He sighs, "My apologies. I know I juat asked a lot at once. I'm not the..." he pauses "most graceful when it comes to things like this."

When Arthur finishes, Ogderel looks down at his plate for a long moment, slowly dragging his fork through the remains of his breakfast. The young wizard thinks for awhile before answering.

"Why is the storm keeping you here?" He shrugs, "Because it can." Ogderel looks up from his plate. "That's usually reason enough for people like us."

He scratches at a spot on his neck, "Is it natural? No, or at least not entirely - doesn't make it unusual. This place... bends... the world around it. That's what it does. And you're being kept here because you came to the wrong place at the wrong time and became interesting to the wrong people."

Ogderel leans back, stretching in his seat. "This is the closest you can get to a Tower of High Sorcery without going to a Tower of High Sorcery. The whole place is dedicated to unseen things and hidden forces. The kind of things that wizards study. Powerful things. Like Agnes. I don't know what she is but I do know what she isn't. And so does Zalthex."

Ogderel looks over his shoulder before continuing, although his voice is quieter when he continues. "Zalthex won't stop if he believes there is something worth knowing. Rohzgan will not stop if he thinks there is a threat that will expose him. And you? You have managed to bring both of those things to the tower's front door. Which means something is going to end badly for someone."

The young wizard lets that sink in for a few seconds, "If you intend to leave, don't hesitate when the time comes." He picks up his fork, "Hesitation is how people get kept here." With that said, he returns to his breakfast.

"Are you stuck here? Did you come here at the wrong time and become something worth knowing?" Arthur looks at him "What would happen if someone from your order attempted to start a war by kidnapping someone of great importance? Hypothetically?"

Ogderel chuckles and runs his fingers through his hair. "That is not a hypothetical to ask lightly." He exhales slowly. "If a member of the Orders of High Sorcery were to do such a thing…” he begins, “…it would be considered a violation of neutrality. The Orders do not involve themselves in the politics of nations. Not openly. Not carelessly. If such an act were discovered—proven—there would be consequences.”

Ogderel rises from his seat, "If it were proven." The apprentice mage looks directly at the paladin. "And that is the part people misunderstand,” he says.
“Not whether something is wrong. But whether it can be demonstrated to be wrong. If no proof exists… then nothing happened.”

Arthur mumbles to himself, "That's why..." He looks to the young mage and thinks hard about what he can use as proof. As he thinks, he asks, "How did you come to be in this place?"

The apprentice shrugs. "I took a test. I showed promise. First, a hedge wizard, then a proper teacher. So, I was sent here to study, to become...more. And, I have. My Test of High Sorcery with take place during the next conjunction of the moons." Ogderel pauses. "I will pass or die or be forced to surrender my connection to magic."

"Pass, die, or surrender? That seems a bit harsh for growing. I've known several great wizards in my time."

"It's meant to be harsh. The Orders do not tolerate uncertainty. You either prove yourself worthy of power or you are removed from it - permanently," Ogderel replies.

Arthur asks, "Now, must the trials be faced with magic alone? Or can you face them without and still pass?"

Ogderel sighs. "There are a number of challenges a prospective wizard must face - some are there to showcase an apprentice's skill with spells - others are meant to show what he can do without them - tests of wisdom and judgment, negotiation and diplomacy. And the final trial is meant to force a confrontation with a specific flaw carried within - a weakness of character or a fear that keeps the wizard from reaching his true potential."

"Is everyone tested the same? Or do each have individual trial types?"

"The trials are tailored to each Aspirant." Ogderel frowns, "Why are you so concerned with the Tests of High Sorcery? What about them could possibly aid you in leaving this place?"

Arthur’s voice is steady, but there’s a quiet warmth beneath it.

“You’re a wizard—even you should know how much the smallest details matter. One slight mistake in a magic circle, one symbol drawn just a fraction wrong… that’s all it takes for things to end badly.”

He gestures toward the tower, his gaze flicking to it before returning. “My friends and I are trying to leave this place, but we’re being kept here—whether by design or circumstance, I don’t yet know. There’s a man inside who harbors an ill will for me let's say… and another whose attention toward the woman I love has become something I can’t ignore.”

His expression softens, though his posture stays firm. “So I need to understand this tower—its people, and their intentions. Not out of curiosity, but out of necessity. Because if I don’t, I could be leading my friends into something worse.”

He meets the young wizard’s eyes, calm but unwavering. “I know my questions may seem strange, even abrupt. But I’m not here to cause problems. I’m trying to prevent them… and to make sure we all leave here in one piece.” He lets out a soft sigh, "I'm sorry."

Ogderel shakes his head, "You apologize too much." He leans forward, "You are not wrong. This storm is meant to delay you. Zalthex wants time to study you, to unravel the mystery of your lady. Rohzgan wants time to ensure that you cannot expose him. You think you are being careful. You want to get all of your people out of here. I will not stand against the others but... I will stand against you either. So, when you decide to leave, do it quickly."

Arthur nods. "Thank you, Ogderel. I swear to leave the very second we can, the sooner the better." Arthur continues, "I have two more questions if you wouldn't mind answering. Have you heard of the 'blind god' before? And can you tell about Sirrion, I believe the name was, if you know anything about them that is."

Ogderel shakes his head. "You do love your questions, don't you?" Fine. I have never heard of a blind god. Sirrion, however, was the god of fire before the Cataclysm."

Arthur gives him a smile. "I appreciate everything Ogderel, truly. Is there anything i can do to repay you for everything?"

"Yes." Ogderel stands, gathering his plate and mug, "Leave me out of it. If whatever you are planning goes wrong and you fail, you did not see me. You did not talk to me. This conversation... it never happened."

MEANWHILE...

Zalthex leads Agnes upwards through the tower. They pass through a gallery that houses the dormitories for the tower's staff and students, past classrooms, a library, and a handful of laboratories. The master mage provides a running narration of each area. Agnes smiles politely, oohs and aahs at the appropriate times, but her eyes never stop scanning her surroundings as she looks for a way out of the tower that doesn't require the front door. She notices Rohzgan trailing at a respectful distance. The beady black eyes of his otter remain fixed on her at all times, with an intensity that is unnerving, even to her.

Davaa and Altan keep to the shadows as best they can, following the follower. The two Khur warriors fall somewhat behind as they enter portions of the tower they were advised to stay out of. Strangely, they see no servants. No cook who could have prepared last night's meal or this morning's breakfast. No maid to keep things tidy. Their hands remain close to their weapons at all times.

The pair presses up against the wall of the stairway that winds its way up through the tower. They notice that Rohzgan never just walks into a room. He stops at every door, even if just for a moment, before passing through.

The waist of the tower holds a chapel dedicated to Nuitari. Candelabra with flickering purple flames cast lavender shadows on a small altar. Here, Zalthex pauses to light a candle, adding it to one of the many-branched holders and invites Agnes to do the same. "Nuitari does not answer our prayers but this is his house. It is customary to thank him for his hospitality."

Agnes replies, "Of course," and lights a candle on the flame of one that is already burning. "I would thank you for your hospitality as well, Master Zalthex."

"But, of course, Your Grace. As you might expect, we get few visitors here so when one as fascinating as you arrives, I feel that it is my responsibility to see to their comfort," Zalthex grins softly. "Come, I will show you the observatory next."

The wizard offers his arm. Agnes rests her fingers delicately upon it as he leads her ever upwards. Rohzgan does not follow. He makes his way over to the altar and lights a candle without ceremony and shakes his head. He says something to his otter that neither Altan nor Davaa can make out. The animal climbs off of his shoulders and follows Zalthex and Agnes up the stairs. The wizard turns around and faces the two Khurs. "I believe Nicholas told you not to stray beyond the first floor. Now, what am I to do with you?"

Zalthex and Agnes finally reach the uppermost floor, having skipped the fourth level entirely, "Just my personal quarters and private workroom, Your Grace, nothing you would want to see... yet."

The observatory at the top of the tower is filled with astronomical equipment but the chamber is dominated by an orrery made of brass with gem-inlaid spheres representing each of the planets and their moons. Zalthex motions toward the large solar system model, "I have spent years working on this. Despite my best efforts, I cannot build it to scale - the distances between the heavenly bodies are too great." He ducks beneath one of the model's planets and makes his way to the "Sun" at the center of the display. He opens a panel in the pedestal holding up the sphere and begins slowly turning a wheel inside. As one, the model moves with each planet spinning on its axis, each moon ciring its planet, and each planet moving along its orbit around the sun. "Despite the scale being inaccurate, the dance of the worlds is perfectly timed."

Despite herself, Agnes cannot help but smile at the intricate movement of the display. The amount of work that must have gone into its creation is obvious, even to her untrained eye.

Outside, the wind howls. Blown sand batters against the windows of the tower. Inside, all is quiet, almost... peaceful.

"Most people, even those of my Order, find the tower unsettling. Not you, though. You seem... right at home." Zalthex's voice is smooth, calm, reassuring. Agnes feels a pressure at the edge of her awareness, a creeping sense of dread as she struggles to maintain her focus. "I wish to understand you, Agnes. I can sense the power you seek to hide." His words become heavier somehow, sinking into her consciousness. "I want to know what you are."

ALSO MEANWHILE...

Granite and Phineas find themselves sitting in a small cell on the second floor. The walls, floor, and ceiling are all completely bare. Aside from the two of them, the only things in the room area pair of plain wooden chairs.

"Wait here... I'll be right back. I tell ya, I think that boy just tricked us into caging ourselves!" Granite grumbles.

Phineas shrugs, "It's been one-hundred and thirty-five seconds, Master Dwarf. I, for one, do not intend to begin worrying until I reach three hundred seconds." The professor looks around the plain room again before continuing, "Besides, if we were imprisoned, would he have left you with your hammer, me with my inventions? I think not."

The door swings open. Nicholas stands on the other side. "Sorry about that wait. I should have asked you to wait in the dining hall. When we got up here, I realized that you aren't permitted to be here! So, into the closet you go!"

Granite notes that Nicholas is carrying several metal flasks bundled in a towel and asks, "Those what ye have for trade?"

The mage nods. "It's what I have that I am allowed to trade. Master Zalthex has already stated that he doesn't want armor. These potions and oils aren't terribly valuable on the open market so..." the young wizard shrugs, "he probably won't care if I barter with these."

BACK IN THE GUEST QUARTERS

Arthur paces back and forth his nerves never settling down. He flips the silver dagger end over end in his hand as he waits. The storm outside howling on just like the storm with in him. "Come on...where are you..." He heads out into the hall and listens.