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
"I appreciate your kind words," Rolan replies with a bow of his head. "I've opened what rooms I can for public housing until things have settled, but I'm afraid there's not much more that I can do until the tower is completely secured. There's still so much wild magic making parts of it dangerous for even me to traverse..."
He shakes his head with a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't think Lorroakan put a day's worth of effort into maintenance for the entire time he occupied it."
"But enough of that- If I can lend you my aid in anyway, you need only to ask," Rolan offers, his tail flicking absently at his side. He's almost excited at the prospect of working on something outside of his tower. As grateful as he is to have it and all its resources, cleaning up someone else's mess is frustrating work, and it'd be nice to have a project with tangible results. "And if you don't mind, I'd like a copy of that map when you're finished with it. I'd like to mark down all the entrances to the Nexus that we can find and see if we could use them for the transportation of goods. And-"
He pauses to make a note to himself, tail flicking with much more excitement as the possibilities begin to ravel out in his mind. "I ought to write to Gale in Waterdeep. If we could connect our two cities, imagine how many students could attend school at Blackstaff while living here in Baldur's Gate. Not to mention the amount of commerce Sorcerous Sundries will receive from visiting wizards..."