Rolan of Elturel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wizardprodigy) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nexus_crossings2025-01-28 02:53 pm
wizardprodigy) wrote in nexus_crossings2025-01-28 02:53 pm
(no subject)
One of the Nexus' many features is, surprising no one, a portal. It's a portal with a black center and for the longest time, it's pulsated with swirling fingers of white light. It's fairly nondescript as portals go, and while the air around it tingles, any attempts to go through the portal simply lead… well, to the back side of the portal.
Today, it hums.
Today a wave of not-quite purple washes through the swirling arms, and the hole opens up to a library.
A library with a tiefling inside it, who pokes his head through, looks around for a moment, then withdraws.
A few minutes, then an hour passes as the portal goes dormant once more, no sign of the tiefling or his library visible through the center. Time ticks by, minutes and hours passing by before finally, the portal sparks once more.
This time, when it opens, the center of the portal is reinforced by a golden metal frame, and the tiefling comes through with a satchel laden with books and scrolls, dragging a table full of mechanical and alchemical contractions behind him. There's a giddiness to his movement and he grunts and curses the table where he wants it, even when he has to frantically rescue some of the instruments from falling. Then, once everything is settled exactly how he likes it, the real fun begins.
At least for the tiefling.
He spends a few moments recording readings from the array of instruments and meters, muttering excitedly to himself before plopping on the ground and digging through his satchel. Amidst the scrolls and books, he finds one of the many pamphlets explaining the Nexus and its rules. Regarding it with narrowed eyes, he pulls out an hourglass and sets it aside, returning his focus to his research.
The hourglass is flipped three times before the tiefling looks up from his work, tail swishing on the ground behind him, and he poses his questions.
"Has anyone here determined what happens if you don't ask a question? How long can you go without asking a question before something happens? Why is a question required? How poignant must the question be to be considered acceptable? Is a simple "How are you?" enough, or must it be philosophically intriguing?"
There's a pause in the tiefling's barrage as he scrunches his nose, scowling deeply at nothing. Then he sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and relaxes, adding on his final question. "I suppose I might as well ask if anyone has seen a man named Lorroakan, by any chance? Human, red hair, thinks very highly of himself, and has a temper that Devil's would envy."
((Hello, I am new. I know it's been quiet but nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? So here I am. Venturing.))
Today, it hums.
Today a wave of not-quite purple washes through the swirling arms, and the hole opens up to a library.
A library with a tiefling inside it, who pokes his head through, looks around for a moment, then withdraws.
A few minutes, then an hour passes as the portal goes dormant once more, no sign of the tiefling or his library visible through the center. Time ticks by, minutes and hours passing by before finally, the portal sparks once more.
This time, when it opens, the center of the portal is reinforced by a golden metal frame, and the tiefling comes through with a satchel laden with books and scrolls, dragging a table full of mechanical and alchemical contractions behind him. There's a giddiness to his movement and he grunts and curses the table where he wants it, even when he has to frantically rescue some of the instruments from falling. Then, once everything is settled exactly how he likes it, the real fun begins.
At least for the tiefling.
He spends a few moments recording readings from the array of instruments and meters, muttering excitedly to himself before plopping on the ground and digging through his satchel. Amidst the scrolls and books, he finds one of the many pamphlets explaining the Nexus and its rules. Regarding it with narrowed eyes, he pulls out an hourglass and sets it aside, returning his focus to his research.
The hourglass is flipped three times before the tiefling looks up from his work, tail swishing on the ground behind him, and he poses his questions.
"Has anyone here determined what happens if you don't ask a question? How long can you go without asking a question before something happens? Why is a question required? How poignant must the question be to be considered acceptable? Is a simple "How are you?" enough, or must it be philosophically intriguing?"
There's a pause in the tiefling's barrage as he scrunches his nose, scowling deeply at nothing. Then he sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and relaxes, adding on his final question. "I suppose I might as well ask if anyone has seen a man named Lorroakan, by any chance? Human, red hair, thinks very highly of himself, and has a temper that Devil's would envy."
((Hello, I am new. I know it's been quiet but nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? So here I am. Venturing.))
no subject
Clearing his throat, Rolan gestures to the glowing portal and the library beyond. "That's part of what brings me here. I'm cataloguing and organizing Lorroakan's collection to determine what is safe for the public to interact with, and what must be left to more experienced hands. So far this realm seems safe enough, especially if it is some sort of living library as it seems, but I'd like a bit more information before I let the adventurers of Faerun run around here willy nilly."
no subject
His job was often to listen to people's more private and sometimes less acceptable opinions. "Often the ignorance is the will of people who would rather not be seen, or seen completely."
Hiding for safety was something he was familiar with in general and from his patients. His attention was on the portal and he was a little overwhelmed even if this wasn't the first portal he has seen to a world that isn't his.
"Maybe you should go to the housing office here and get a residence before bringing everything here, if it might be dangerous?" Martyn was being practical and could only imagine the chaos the rockstars he was currently dealing with might cause here. "Some of my clients have mentioned that their gods live, or visit, here."
no subject
What Rolan didn't mention was how close his own mannerisms mirrored his master's even before he was taken on as an apprentice. Of course, he'd developed his habits as a coping mechanism against a world determined to make him hate himself, but it scared him, how close he'd come to being a hateful man throwing his weight around because it was the only thing he had.
"Anyway-" Rolan clears his throat, pulling his mind away from the dark tangent and back to the present. "Encountering a god is not an uncommon circumstance on Faerun. I myself am acquainted with the goddess Selune's daughter," he adds with a smirk that is more fond that it is smug. "I owe her a great deal, though I believe she considers my debt squared simply for standing at her side."
"That part, I'm not concerned about. No, I am much more worried about adventurers treating this space like the Yawning Portal in Waterdeep," he rumbles, his eyes narrowing as his tail twitches in agitation. "Stomping around like they own the place, looking for fights and treasure, and making a bloody ruckus while they're at it."
Rolan shakes his head grumpily, scowl firmly in place. "No, I think for the time being, I'll see if Tolna would be willing to keep it behind her desk with the rest of the restricted items. Limiting its usage to those who cannot find the answers they're looking for in the rest of the library should suffice until people prove they can handle unlimited access responsibly."
A pause before Rolan adds, "Not that your idea doesn't have merit, of course. It could be useful to have a space where I can test things without endangering innocent lives."