Sun Nov 18, 2007 11:50 am
The ivory-haired lass with the ebon blindfold sat, back straight, in total darkness toiling over a piece of parchment and a quill pen. How she wrote accurately was difficult to say - but it did not seem to trouble her in the least. Beside her sat a few armor scraps, wrapped neatly, her work on them quite finished, for now. With tongue poked gently between lips, and an expression of concentration on her features - for it wasn't EASY to write in her condition, though she had a few tricks to make it possible... moonlight sifted past closed blinds, providing only the scantest illumination of the scene - though it mattered little, of course, to her.
Greetings,
I hope this missive finds you well. I have analyzed the armor fragments with which you provided me - and for those I thank you. I shall return them to you post-haste, though I may desire access to them at a later date, if this is quite fine with you. While they were of use to me in reading and analyzing the Ashfiend's imprint, and in growing acclimated to my foe, what I have learned specifically about the abomination is rather general. Though I am aware this may all be old information to you, I enclose it within in case that is not so:
Teron, as you have described to me, is a being chained by hatred. This rage and loathing has been an integral fibre of his being since the moment he was 'created,' and it is forced upon him by a curse of some sort. This curse is no longer linked to its original caster - it is an odd, sort of free-floating magical entity which forces Teron Ashfiend into the rage with which he perished from his living life, and refuses to allow it to abate. He is unable to move past whatever initially stimualted this unholy frenzy - and though this is mere speculation, I would imagine that the moments in which the knight gains control of the Ashfiend, this is with what he does battle. This curse seems to have grown more powerful in the years since the knight's death, and, though this strikes me as incredibly odd, it seems to have been directly altered by the very hate it has bound. It really is fascinating, in a morbid, unreal sort of way, for a spell to grow and evolve in the absence of its caster's influence.
That the armor is at least 6,000 years old, and is the very same suit that he wore upon his death, makes these fragments very valuable for this sort of work, and I would request you guard them with all diligence.
Seth Bloodmoon allowed me brief access to Teron's mace - unfortunately, it is not only rather mundane, but seems to have been of little particular value to the Ashfiend, as it was completely devoid of any such imprint. The only remarkable aspect of it was that it was particularly heavy. While you never know if it may wind up being useful in the future, it certainly does not seem to be aught but an old mace wielded by an older beast for some relatively small period of time. It certainly does not bear the utility that, say, the hero's former blade might.
If you have any questions, or further artifacts I might inspect, please seek me out at the Dagger. I look forward to meeting you again.
Best regards,
Kyra
p.s. I shall begin working on the runes you have requested post-haste.
Signing the letter with a fluorish and a quiet exhalation, she rolls the parchment delicately, before fixing it with a wax seal, whose insignia was one of the odd, arcane runes which seemed so central to her work. The wax sets, and she is lifting from her seat, then, taking the parchment in her left hand and her staff in the right, making her way down the stairs and to the bar. It was as before - she sent for a courier and, waiting patiently for his arrival, transferred the letter to the boy, who would deliver it to the Governor's office with the utmost alacrity, and the young sorceress would return to her room, digging around in her supplies for more ink, more parchment... and setting to work upon the requested sigla.