Charlotte Posted November 5, 2015 Share Posted November 5, 2015 Date: Olarunne the 22nd, 998 YK Location: Fairhaven, Aundair Dawn broke, and Adaa knew it by the gentle change of psychic energy in the air, as mortal minds passed from the realm of Dal Quor to the waking world of Eberron. Back in Riedra, there would be prayers on the Path of Inspiration at the site of the nearest monolith, investing themselves in its tenets on a spiritual journey from the beasts to the il-atlas. For those not of common blood, there would be psionic exercises and study of the arts of leadership and administration, in preparation for the day that they were ready to accept the divine il-atlas into themselves. For her, there was none of that, because she'd touched the mind of the il-atlas and that was not their name – they had another name, the quori, and they had another purpose, full of hunger and seething rage and planning measured in centuries. And that was the last clear memory she had of her homeland. The rest was a blur of steerage ships and sleepless nights. Here, half a world away, there were no Inspired and no Riedra; there was only the flickering embers of a war a century in the making and unmaking. Every mind she touched nursed some pain – some grudge against some nation, or some grief over a lost loved one, or simple numbness at the notion of an entire nation simply gone. Adaa tried to shut such thoughts out, because today was the reopening of Fairhaven's fabled Distant Exchange. One of the most exclusive merchantile quares in all of Aundair, the one rule of the Distant Exchange is that nothing could be found locally. So traders brought wares from all over Eberron, and she hoped that somewhere in all those bits of pottery and copperpiece novels, that there would be some hint of something that would explain why what happened, did happen. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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