Ka's Lair

[Angel]

This lair is impossible to find unless Angel desires the seeker to find it, as it is hidden in the swirling mists of the great Astral plane. Her home for centuries, it is now rumoured to contain the largest and most extensive library on the subject of magic. Her collection draws from the millenia she has been alive, and ranges from the most simple of spells to intricate spells pulled directly from the divine powers.

Her lair consists of many chambers large enough to house her in draconic form, and some only for her elven form. The entrance is rough hewn for thousands of feet, until it opens into a hallway large enough to house entire cities, yet easy to traverse with the aid of teleport circles. The hall is polished white marble with intricate gold adornments. frescoes and many tapestries.

The subject matter of the art varies from light scenic frescoes, obviously of elven heritage, to dark swirling tapestries pulled from demonic lairs and castles. Suits of armour are stood at attention, just waiting the approach of some general to form up ranks and salute. These are part of the castles guardians, Knights of the Rose all of them, bound and sworn even in death to serve their mistress.

The carefully laid tile swoops gracefully in geometric patterns, designed by gnomes, but laid by the greatest of all stone-workers, the dwarves. Each part is carefully designed to complement all and overpower nothing. Dwarven and elven craftsmen worked side by side to create these halls, but not for their current owner. No, this was never designed to be hidden underground, patrolled by ghosts and occupied by just one being.

These halls were carefully moved from the majestic, multi-cultural city of Myth Drannor, before the cataclysmic explosion wrought desctruction to the greatest of all cities in the planes. These halls once rang with trumpet calls, announcing heralds and kings from kingdoms in all places and times, singing troupes, performing creatures of all types, and the agonised pleas ofcriminals, but now they echo the millenia of silence that is their omnipresent companion.

Near the end of the main hall is a sun-room, one side of which is entirely glass. This allows her and her guests to relax in comfort, and is perhaps her favourite room besides her lab. Beautifully decorated, it is an exact replica of the room she once inhabited on Mt. Celestia, basking in the glory of Glicion. This room brings painful merories with it on occasion, but this haunting reminder of life serves it's purpose for her.

At the end of the first and largest hall is a twin staircase, snaking hundreds of feet into the air and twining around a gargantuan dragon's skeleton. Once the dragon that lived in the ruins of Myth Drannor, but now his soul is bound to the new master of the halls. This staircase leads to the High Chamber, where the Council of three races met on all subjects that concerned their fate.

The High Chamber is now Angel's sleeping chambers, the entire ceiling one fresco of the night sky. Each star and planet is carefully arranged and held in place by magic long forgotten, and the size of the chamber is hard to determine. The roof is domed, held up by the knowledge of dwarven smiths and the light materials brought by the elven people. Perfectly circular, the walls are bare of any protrusions and the floor is polished vallenwood.

Magical sconces light it up carefully, as the designers did not want to interfere with the impression of an open night sky, yet the lighting is more than adequate in any part of this cavernous bedchamber. The center contains piled up treasure, stacked neatly but with an element of random chaos, creating a bed most pleasurable to the tough hide of an old dragon. Not a copper of this hoard can go missing without her knowing, and she will track it down, much to the dismay of the would be plunderer.

Unlike most lairs, no remains of past thieves decorate any of her chambers, no, there are more frightning and grotesque things hiding behind doors than mere cadavers rotting in armour. Ghosts and banshees patrol at random, always fleeing from the mistress, yet inexorably compelled to protect the being that robbed them of life and gave them this miserable existence. Perhaps it is the thought of warm blood on thei parched lips, or merely new companionship that drives them, but no one has asked and lived to tell of their response.

Libraries to rival that of Alexandria are littered among the graceful halls, all open and containing history, common knowledge, scientific research, alchemy and many other subjects interesting to mortals but mere passing knowledge to her. All but a few libraries are open, these closed ones requiring the correct word or phrase to access, these are the ones that drive mages mad with lust, clerics to the point of frothing at the mouth for divine knowledge.

These are her prized collection, her passion, the culmination of her existance. Magic flows from these books, good, evil and neutral share shelf space with divine magic of all spheres. This is where one can lose their life trying to understand the extent of cosmic magic, lose their sanity trying to understand spells forgotten for a reason. Here she spends most of her time, refining her collection, categorising and organising a veritable sea of information.

There are cellars near these particular libraries, filled with chests of books, just waiting to see the light of those magical rooms, if a space big enough to hold a town can be called a room. Here her servants bring all the tomes they collect for her to peruse and file at will. These cellars are part of the catacombs, extensive tunnels once used for underground movement in Myth Drannor, and homes to unsavoury types.

Angel has cleaned these out and restored the original look to these tunnels. Not clammy and dark, littered with puddles and rife with stalagtites, no, they are broad and well lit, carved from living stone and decorated with murals and carvings. The leaders of this ancient city were once buried in these underground halls, but now they have been given a new, perhaps more sinister purpose. They lead to her laboratories, large open chambers dedicated to everything and anything magical.

Their location is known only to Angel and Grackt, and even Grackt has not seen the full extent of this magical mad-house. It is said that any creature that has existed, exists, or will exist has at some point in time passed through these labs under scrutiny. Spells of the highest power contain all the magic unleashed in here, rendering even the largest of fireblasts into mere flamepuffs. Demons have made pacts, Devils have bargained and Celestial creatures have imparted knowledge deep in this area.

[Angel]

She pursues knowledge relentlessly, taking on many projects at once, alchemical, magical or merely scientific, it's all fair game once past the stone doors that mark the boundries of her labs. Grackt enjoys many of the privelages that Arch-mages would murder for, yet still does not know what transpires behind the polished onyx doors deeper yet in the heart of the labyrinth. Carved with runes, only Angel knows the word that will open these doors, and unleash whatever may hide in there. Her never-ending quest for knowledge has led to some very regrettable acts, including inviting kender-kin to her lair. (That took several centuries and many generations of kender to retrieve all of the missing belongings.)

Down among these twisting passageways also lie rooms full of trinkets, magical items of all sorts, artifacts, broken experiments and a myriad of other interesting junk. Junk to her perhaps, but not to other souls, who might find the gift of their dreams in the toys and baubles carefully catalogued and stored for future use. Empty caverns also exist down here, home to the dragons that rally ruled the fabled city, but these areas have not been touched by Angel, as she has no need for them yet, and the dragons are long gone.

Returning to the surface areas of her lair, Grackt posseses chambers to the left of the great hall, room enough for tens of his kind, the Drakiens. Here he spends his days in study, research and leisure. angel and he agreed that they would be his sanctuary, a place she would never step into, and she respects this mutual decision. Her faithful apprentice and perhaps her closest friend and only confidant Grackt is a powerful ally. Drakiens are known for intelligence and strength, but also for their cruel streak. She has managed to temper this out of Grackt, but he still leans heavily towards the black robes and negative energy. He has trained with her for almost 50 years now, through the use of time spells and enchantments, and is quite an accomplished mage in his own right.

He remains with her, hoping one day to be allowed join her in eternal night, and be privy to all her secrets including the most powerful magic she wields, the blood magic. He has heard through the sealed doors of her inner sanctums the prayers, sacrifices and numerous rituals she has performed and yearns to see them for himself. But still she withholds form him, her Goddess not approving of him yet, and so patiently they wait, she seeks an eternal companion and he seeks power to rival her own.

The lair is well protected, but almost no one except the occasional mage with a suicidal bent is likely to search it out. The very few invited to the lair enjoy the most luxurious surroundings in the normal sized areas, with anything the mind can imagine to entertain and please them. Her coffers are endless, and no matter the cost it is never to great to take care of her friends. Rarely though she invites anyone out here, as even the best of friends can be bought for a price, many a dragon or mage would love to posess knowledge of her lair, inside and out.

Here she spends the millenia of her live, exposing herself to the outer worlds on occasion, short periods to her, but lifetimes to the people she touches. She on rare instances parts with book or knowledge to the deserving soul, and much rarer does she seek out another to complement her knowledge on a subject. Honoured are these people who obviously earn her respect, and woe to those who then betray it. Many a bed-time story has been written about the nightmare form the sky exacting revenge on a money hungry mage.

The entrance to her lair is logical, yet defies all commonly held beliefs. Only one knowing what and where to look will find it, but they must also have someone who knows how to open it. Some say it's a keyhole, some say it's boulder, but none can agree. Even those who've visited cannot say for sure where it was, the Astral is a confusing place to those not from that plane.

[Angel]

*Angel walks through her library looking for a particular tome, humming softly to herself. As she nears the area she knows it is in, she chants softly causing it to glow. Floating up to where the tome is, she pulls it out of the shelf and opens it up.

Angel lightly traces the words as she reads aloud, it's a simple children's story about a wolf and a girl. At the end of the story a portal appears in front of the girl and the wolf is trapped in another dimension.

What do you think Grackt? Is it really a tale, or is it based on some historic events?

*The drakian slinks into the light from the corner he was lurking in and snarls back.

I don't know Ka, the realms are vast and who knows where exactly some of these tomes come from. You should be able to tell easier than anyone if it's real or not.

*She flinches slightly at his sarcasm, and replaces the book to the shelf, flinging her own reply back with a sneer.

You let me know when a 5 year old can hide such spells behind such a harmless front.

So, tell me exactly why you keep reading into Magius' tome? There are no spells hidden in it, we have used every manner of divination and scrying on that blasted book and it won't give up any secrets because it doesn't have any.

*He laughs as he speaks, as if chiding an inquisitive youngster, then offers his arm.

Come on back to the lab, I've almost perfected the incantation. And I created a new globe of disspelling, hopefully you won't break this one so damn quick.

I can't help it if the spell was too strong for the old globes, it's hard to judge a spell when you can't exactly tell what it's going to do.

*Taking his arm she starts heading towards the entrance of the lair.

I'm going to talk to Lunaria, take care of the lab for me.

*Her form shimmers as she transforms into a small dragon in order to speed up the journey to Eluria, and she leaves her lair.

[Catriona]

*The Elurian mail always arrives in time! A small parcel arrives for Angeliqué.*

[Angel]

*Angel smiles as she arrives home and opens her gift. It's a shame she wasn't always so punctual! As she examines the gift, she wonders just what mailing address this package was sent to in order to arrive here. Not that the mailman was aan unusual sight around here with all her research.

[Catriona]

*The parcel is addressed to:

Angeliqué<br>Lair

There's a little card with season's greetings and a dinner invitation, signed by the Trevains (including ^TirRiT_H) inside the package, along with a dusty old tome, bound in leather and gold. It smells like old, old books, it's a bit mouldy, and its pages are yellowish and dry, with faded brown ink in a language so alien that it hurts the eyes. It looks like the diary of an Illithid researcher. There is also a sort of joke-present: a small book by a very pompous "scientist" whose ridiculously conceited picture is on the very first page. The book is titled "The Ever-Recurring Myth of Astral Dragons" and argues strongly that there never were any such creatures, based on all kinds of "scientific" research.*

[Angel]

*Angel smiles to herself at the "scientific" evidence and slips that book into her pouch, for later study. Perhaps she should even visit that pompous, conceited person. Eyeing the old book, she reaches for a pair of glasses to read it with, and flips a few pages.

*Satisfied with the new knowledge, she sets it down with the glasses on top and picks up the invitation. Smiling at Tirith's signature, she wills herself over to the Inn to visit.

[Angel]

*Angel walks into her sun-room wearing a bone-white gown and takes a seat in her favourite chaise. She summons a glass of blood and a side table to place it on. Some cheese and pomegranate appear alongside, unconciously summoned from her longings to be alive again. She sips the blood, triggering a memory of an earlier time.

*She was sitting in the same chaise, except that the room was in the 7th Heavens, and the eternal sun of Glicion warmed the chambers nicely. Some wine, cheese, and her favourite fruit, pomegranates, were sitting beside her. Across from her sits a large anthropomorphic dog, a German Shepard by the looks of it. "So Groth," she begins, "how is Syloriel and the Elven Kingdom?"
He is here on a infrequent visit, especially since he had met that elf. "She is radiant, Miss Angel, and the kingdom fares well with none to oppose their ways." Hmph, she thought to herself, of course they are with a powerful avatar to protect them, however blind he may be to their real ways. "That's good" she continues "and Glicion is happy with this arrangement?" He frowns slightly, she usually doesn't inquire into his business with his god.
"He knows little, seems more interested in obscure prophecy about some arch-devil/demon or something. Not interested in my happiness, just in the eternal war on evil." So there is was, she thought, he is losing faith because he is in love. Yet oddly, that passionate faith he used to display was exactly what won Syloriel over to his side. "Gods are always busy with their business dear, you'll learn that one day."
He sighs, and stretches, his armour chinking lightly and glowing in the sun's rays. "Well Miss Angel, what do you worry about then? Ones such as yourself have outlived gods and their cults, does this not bother you to know your fate is eternal?" She pauses to sip her wine and think, he was starting to get a larger picture of her role in his life and she couldn't decide if it was good or not. "I do not worry about my future, Groth, mine is already set in stone, it is yours that I worry about."
"Mine?" His incredulous tone belies what's lurking in those golden, expressionless eyes. "Why would an astral dragon consumed with lust for power care about my struggles? You're so blind you consort with Glicion to determine my fate, and reap the benefits yourself. You gamble my life in wars to suit your needs. I wouldn't doubt that you have Glicion under your spells as well as the rest of the 7th Heavens."
That was definately Syloriel speaking, Groth would never have said that of his own initiative. Everything had gone so well until that damned elf had come along. Angel fumes silently, making sure her loving demeanor didn't change externally. "Groth dear, why would you say that? You know full well that I only have your best interests at heart, and your god loves you as his firstborn." She pauses and sips her wine, "Glicion's perfect champion, feared thoughout the realms by all those evil." "Evil?" he interjects, voice laden with derision, "you do not fear me as you should, because you think yourself immune to petty things like fear and love. You disgust me, whoring out your talents to the most powerful or the richest bidder, just to satiate your own twisted desires."
He's perceptive, she has to give him that, but not entirely right. She doesn't always have much choice in what she must do, and her options were becoming slimmer by the moment. Her anger shows slightly in her eyes, a smouldering ember in a sea of violet. "Do not be hasty to judge me, I have lived longer than you and will live longer in the future. Never presume to know what your god and I talk about or what I have done in the past. Perhaps that witch you consort with has put you under a spell, giving you wild ideas about your only family."
He leaps to his feet in anger, grunting a curse and unleashes a bolt of flame at her prone form. "Curse you witch, do not insult her, she is pure and righteous, unlike you." The bolt stops harmlessly a few feet from Angel, dissapearing in a flash. An anti-magic shield was in effect, but he could not detect it. He calls down flame from the heavens, turning the room into an inferno but still she mocks him with her expressionless face. Tauntingly she calls out "Feeling powerless, dear? Perhaps your god does not approve of this missuse of his grace?"
"Missuse? If he weren't so blinded by your twisted beauty and sly words he would be a just god, not going mad mumbling about Synar!" Venting frustration he proceeds to wreak chaos in her lair, obliterating it from the 7th Heavens, until all that remains is a charred mountain top, and a chaise floating 3-4 feet from the ground. Angel is in the same position she has been all evening, only now a slight smirk is showing.
She doesn't speak, he already knows what she will say, and he leaves before she can say it. She turns slightly, and a figure strides towards her. "Glicion" she smiles, "Now you see what I mean about you avatar, do you not?" He nods gravely, "This is troubling news indeed. You were correct to approach me and tell me of this elven witch. Let us leave and pay them a visit."
He offers his arm, and she accepts, standing close beside him, her lithe frame in contrast to the tall light-haired knight. He looks down and feels a familiar urge looking at this extraordianry creature beside him. She would become his queen before long, he knew no female in any of the realms can resist him for long. She looks up and meets his gaze, blushing properly, leading him further down the path of deception. Why were the just so much easier to decieve, she wonders as he prepares to take them to the mortal realm.

*Angel curses, wishing for the tears that should have been pouring out her eyes, but are not. Curse undeath, curse this existance, curse everything. She stares silently into the Astral, wishing justification for a lifetime of sins would come and consume her.

[Angel]

*Hours pass, as Angel stares into the distance, Grackt enters and begins to clean up, his mistress laying unresponsive. Perhaps she is doing those funny elven mental exercises, or perhaps just engrossed in power. He leaves shortly after and begins to study on his own.

*As he scribes in his spellbook, he fingers a small earring that she gave to him. To protect him from her charms, so she said, and it must. He still felt clearheaded, and he knew he was able to leave any time he wanted. Lately she was morose, not interested in her magical studies, worrying about humans too much. These were weaknesses he was not ready to tolerate. Perhaps he would leave.

*Days later Angel stirs, her body feeling stiff and cold. She has difficulty forming the words to summon her blood, so weakened a state she is in. Calling out to Grackt, she gets no answer and immediately is on alert. Drinking the blood much to quickly, she gets lightheaded and dizzy, but it passes momentarily.

*She seeks him out in his chambers but he is not there, and a quick sweep of the lair reveals only a note, and a small earring left on her study table, beside a Manual of the Planes. The note is short and simple, written in Drakien runes.

Mistress,
I no longer desire to study under you. I maybe will return, but don't count on it. Thank you,
Grackt.

*Angel crumples the note, and throws the earring at a wall in frustration. She feels anger building inside of her, familiar anger and unleashes it in a scream. Clenching her fists enough to break her own knuckles, she screams one word, trying to break her fate, trying to challenge the Enternal One, wishing to snap into a better reality, but everytime she creates a new disciple, she just ruins it.

WHYYYY??!!

*Kneeling in front of her desk, blood trickles from her eyes, like some god's twisted sense of tears. She looks at her hands, gashes to the bone in the soft flesh of her palms from her nails, and broken knuckles from clenching to hard. Useless for magic, the weak flesh she inhabits just makes her frustration more acute.

*Desire to overcome and a lust for something new overcomes her as she attempts to use her skills, but the broken rune and uncoordinated finger movements just cause the magic to backfire, slamming her into the opposite wall. The blows stuns her and she slumps over, the blackness arriving is a welcome relief from the failures of life.

[Angel]

*Angel awakes slowly, feeling weak and drained. She isn't sure how long it's been since she fed, but she knows she needs to get blood quickly. It's a good thing teleportation just requires a word she reflects, staring at her broken hands. She'll need someone who can cast negative energy spells to help her.

Inn.

[Angel]

*Her return startles the Guardians, sending them scuttling to whatever dark holes they can find. She paces anxiously in her sun-room staring out at the silver sky wondering what was happening out there. She sees Githyanki ships moving about, and they don't look happy either.

If only Grackt were her also, together we might repel any invaders. But only me, I don't know, especially in this state.

*She muses softly to herself, just in case they are out there. Raising her hands up and touching the glass wall, she closes her eyes and wills her conciousness to explore the plane. As usual it's impossible to do, the Astral is infinite, and they could be anywhere... This is disturbing, and she rests her forehead against the glass, wondering what is to become of her future now.