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The barbarian looks down at the small entity, and then at the elemental woman. This, he concluded, must be his son. It was already a young child however, and not a baby. He was a bit concerned at the magic that might be at work here. While it wasn't necessarily a bad thing, it was surprising.

He looked down at the child wondering if it spoke in a manner he could understand, there was only one way to find out, Imoak concluded, "I don't know if you can understand me, but I think I'm your father. My name is Imoak."

::The Half-Elemental Goliath, without apparent hesitation, drops his oversized wooden play-sword and leaps almost to the eye-level of the towering figure, arms spread wide, joy in what you can see of his face.::

"Fadder!"

The goliath unsure of how to act is surprised at both the height of the child's jump, and the seemingly conventional word it utters. "So it is true then.", he says more of a statement than a question. "It seems you know something of me then. I have come here to meet you, and to tell you of your blood right. As my son you should know me, and I you. This is the way of my, and now your people."

Imoak looks toward Little Sister, "You also should be a part of this if you are to raise our child, that is assuming you are able to understand. I am still unsure as to your nature, but if you are able to bear, and raise a child I know you are at least sentient, and unlike the others of your kind in this tower."

::Little Sister, clad in her priestessly white robe, watches Imoak and his reaction to their son for moment. After he explains, she walks up to him, places a wet windy kiss on his cheek, and produces a scroll from within her robes. She seems to hesitate a moment, and then offers it to Imoak.::

Imoak takes the scroll, accepting the parchment, and her attention. He reads the scroll.

::The scroll is very old, preserved through the ages by its arcane nature, and is written in a language strange to Imoak. Glancing through the sigils, Imoak activates a magical effect of some kind, and the words, unknown to him, flash into his eyes in rapid succession. As the last sigil flashes, the scroll deteriorates, crumbling to dust as the last of its magic is expended and the tide of ages catches up to it.::

::As he finishes reading the spell, Little Sister speaks to him, in her breathy, moaning language as she usually does, but the sigils that Imoak read appear in his vision as she speaks, and resolve into his own native language, allowing him to understand what she says, albeit without cultural connotation and in her native composition. Sense can be made of what she says, as much as can be expected from what amounts to literal translation. As she speaks, it is slowly and with some effort. She clearly understands common, as she has in the past been demonstrated to understand instruction and questions, and her intonation as she speaks now indicates that she is forcing her own language into the syntax of yours.::

My name is Second Perfection of the Sensual Breeze, little sister to the First Perfection. I am 12,231 years old, I was second handmaided to the Great Xeromonius, Terrible and Benevolent Arcane Master of the Planes, whose self inflicted death cast his handmaidens into a three thousand year mourning. I have journeyed beyond the material realms, into heaven and hell, the inner and outer planes, and beyond, and was First Cartographer and High Illustrator to the great Xeromonius, in his catalogueing of all creation as was relevant to his studies. I am forged of the essences of soothing wind, allure sublime, and the throbbing heart of yearning. My very form is mutable in the eye of he who observes me, I am as changing as Limbo, formed to the eye as desired, yet my heart is constant. My benevolent and powerful creator granted me brilliance beyond that of most of my sisters, and he carved in me a heart desiring of a companion, one which he could never be. He gave me control of my form, as I have illustrated and decorated it as I see fit, as is my right as Illustrator.

My son, Whshhhhhaaah, is born of both our forms, and his nature is varied as mine, and as constant as yours. Your heritage, the blood of your tribe, this is an important part of his life, as it should be mine. Do not forget his heritage from me.

I served my master for over 9000 years, and waited patiently for the time when another would come, when someone would be my companion. I serve you now.

"Well, thats wierd.", Imoak stated shaking his head from the effects of the scrolls magic. "Glad we can communicate now. I can appreciate that you have a history, and I respect that. All I desire is to be able to tell our son something about his birthright. I don't want to get in the way of whatever you have planned for him. I am committed to a higher purpose in my life now, and I must see it through. This road is dangerous, and unsuited to the responsibilities of a normal life. It is important you understand this. He may be my heir, but he need not take up any mantel. I simple wish him to know me, and to grow in a world without so much pain."

::She watches Imoak while he speaks, and waits a few moments afterwards before responding.::

Very well. I think you should be a part of his life.

"Very well. I will do what I can." Imoak pondered the situation, and then bent down to speak with the child eye to eye. "As I said I am your father. My name is Imoak Stormbringer Khanthalkali. I am a warrior of the Duneshadow desert people. You too are a part of those people. I can show you the ways of the desert, and I can show you the ways of the sword should you wish it.", he paused for a moment contemplative, and somber

When he continued. it was addressing both the beings in front of him, "I will not always be around. In fact you will probably see little of me through your lifes, but this too is normal for my people. Fathers spend much time hunting, and defending the people. It is the mothers who raise the children. When you are of the appropriate age, perhaps I can show you the ways of manhood, but there are little guarantees.", this last part was said to the child.

Rusty wrote:::Big sister and Little Sister finish their work. Big sister reviews it and starts laying out on the table, annotating the scrolls with reference information, and preparing the cases that the scrolls will be filed into the library with, and Little sister takes her son to the bottom floor and plays with him.::

Rachnar comes wondering though the area hoping to looking up more info on crafting when this work grabs his attention. He politely picks it up and begins reading.

arete wrote: Rachnar comes wondering though the area hoping to looking up more info on crafting when this work grabs his attention. He politely picks it up and begins reading.

::Rachnar scans through the well illustrated scrolls, noting the incredible workmanship that's been put into the drawings and script. It occurs to him that these are valuable as works of art, beyond the value of any information they may contain.::

::Much of the content of the scrolls is already known to Rachnar and the others, as to the function of the library, and many don't catch his interest particularly much, such as being able to cast spells through the eyes of the face on the front of the tower, or the ability of the tower to planeshift. Other aspects catch his interest more readily, like the presence of floors he has never seen that can be activated with the right commands from the throne, including a garden, a dormitory, and a training room. Perhaps the subject that catches Rachnar's interest the most, as a crafter, is the fact that the forge golem is apparently a living thinking being who is constrained into certain expression forms by commands he was given by Xeromonius, and the fact that the golem can reforge a being entire into something new. The sisters were aware of the fact that the Forge Golem, apparently named Ignurius, could take a living being and convert it into something called a "Molten Soul," but they don't know much themselves about how he does it or what it's consequences are. They do list the commands that Xeromonius has restricted Ignurius to, including one which allows him to speak freely. [Addressing him by name and telling him to "speak freely," and then confirming the command will allow Ignurius to have a conversation, after which he will resume his silent vigil over the forge.]::

[New thread: The Forge should be up momentarily]

Liquidprism wrote:"Very well. I will do what I can." Imoak pondered the situation, and then bent down to speak with the child eye to eye. "As I said I am your father. My name is Imoak Stormbringer Khanthalkali. I am a warrior of the Duneshadow desert people. You too are a part of those people. I can show you the ways of the desert, and I can show you the ways of the sword should you wish it.", he paused for a moment contemplative, and somber

When he continued. it was addressing both the beings in front of him, "I will not always be around. In fact you will probably see little of me through your lifes, but this too is normal for my people. Fathers spend much time hunting, and defending the people. It is the mothers who raise the children. When you are of the appropriate age, perhaps I can show you the ways of manhood, but there are little guarantees.", this last part was said to the child.

::The boy watches you in awe as you address him, and seems to comprehend more than someone his age should. His face grows stern, and he lifts his oversized play sword in both hands.::

"Teach me fadder, I want to learn it."

::His mother nods slowly as you speak, understanding perhaps more than you said.::

As you say, this is normal for your tribe. I will raise my son with academic discipline, he will know the things of the worlds, and inherit my legacy, that of the Scribe, in a way that will benefit him. I forsee your distance from us causing our son to someday journey out into the world, either in search of you or of glory in battle, so I will direct him into methods of study that will help him overcome any challenges he may face. My sisters and I are Priestesses of Xeromonius, and it would be natural for us to raise your son to revere him as well. Do you object to any of this?

“I do not object, you should teach him as you see fit. I would warn you against teaching him reverence for beings such as Xeromonius. While, I understand you have devotion to that creature, he is now gone, and you are free to be what you will, and live as you want.
I also cannot impress upon you the dangers of being connected to myself. I am on a quest to depose the gods themselves. They will be my enemies.

So I will journey, and undertake my quest. I will be seldom present in your lives. If you wish to someday seek me out,” he says looking to the child, “you are free to do so.”

“For now I have some freedom to act, so let us enjoy this time.”

Imoak will stay with two for sometime in the tower.