Winning Vote: said:
[X] [Courage:] Left.
[The wearer has increased bravery. They become generally aware of spells and items being used to negatively impact their mental state.]
━<><><>< 472 A.P. ><><><>━
Like before, you look to the poem before you for some clue on how to proceed.
The thing that immediately draws your attention are the alterations to the poem. Not just the parts that have been changed, but the fact that so much of the original structure remains the same otherwise. It all but guarantees the theory that you also need to consider this Trial, the one before and likely the one after are all connected in your mind. The actual lines themselves are straightforward enough, or at least one of their many possible meanings was straightforward.
To understand the self was to remove all falsehood.
From where? Your environment, your perception, your own understanding? All had an element of truth to them, and like before you're sure Thungni means for all of them to be true on some level.
Beyond that, you had to wonder what else constituted "Falsehood," in Thungni's eyes. Doubt? This was, after all, the Trial of Courage. Even if Thungni had forgone any actual challenge for you to face beyond making the right choice, you doubt it no longer mattered either.
Even with that ambiguity clouding your judgement, when you look at the three choices one in particular stands out as the best match for the message you think the riddle is trying to convey.
So you choose it.
Because of the previous Trial, you didn't expect anything to happen to you when you pulled this ingot from its pedestal, and that laxness is what damns you. Almost the moment you peel it from its pedestal the Rune reacts, and begins to glow with brilliant and dazzling light.
Then your mind is forcefully dragged away elsewhere.
━<><><><==><><><>━
You watch two scenarios play out simultaneously; experiencing two entirely different perspectives both separately and at once, unable to do anything more than watch them play out from the prison of your own mind.
In both, you are at your desk writing letters to Jorri. In both you are interrupted by a knock on the door that makes you turn away and beckon them to come in.
In one vision, you see an unfamiliar young woman with painfully familiar blonde hair and your eyes, in the other you see your heir when she was in her thirties, her crimson braids still vibrant with youth.
The stranger is happy, but exasperated, in the other Karstah is pensive, cautious.
"Father!/Master Klausson," they say, "Ma says dinner's ready!/Dinner is ready."
You grumble, kindly in the former, dismissive in the other.
"Eat without me, I need to finish this letter to your uncle/my brother." you tell them.
"You know ma won't like that!" the blonde girl says, a frown gracing her face. Karstah's face doesn't so much fall, but her shoulders slump and she lingers at the entrance.
In one scene a vision of loveliness walks up behind the girl, older than she ever actually got to be in reality, with a soft frown maring her face. In that world, you are cajoled and prodded into finally doing what you knew you wanted to do the entire time. It plays out like a ritual that's been rehearsed plenty of times, one similar to the one you are sure so many other families no doubt practice.
It feels wrong to be witness to it.
In the other, the real memory, you turn away, putting the interaction out of your mind. The sound of thumping can be heard as Karstah walks off after closing the door quietly behind her while you continue writing to Jorri.
━<><><><==><><><>━
You blink in confusion as the scene fades abruptly, and you're dragged back into what you presume is reality.
What was-?
Shaking your head, you turn around to see what grabbed you, but only see a blurry pair of eyes looking back at you. Everything is shifting between the vision and reality, and it disorients you fiercely.
"What happened Master?" Karstah asks worriedly.
You try to tune out the environment and focus your gaze on your heir, only to blink in surprise when you see the other version of her stare back at you. Gone is the tapestry of Drakk imagery, in its place is a suit of Adamant much like your own, the Master Rune of Unyielding glowing proudly in the center of the chestplate while a familiar cape hangs from her shoulders. Her hammers morph into an axe and shield and back again with every blink you make. But most strangely of all, you realize that sometimes her hair was a painfully familiar gold, braided into two wide plaits draping down either side of her face, and her eyes shared the same shade as your own.
"I don't rightfully know daughter/child," you murmur, blinking away the after image and growing frustrated as Karstah's appearance continues to alternate between the two.
"Father/Master," Karstah asks, two different but similar voices layered over atop eachother in your mind, "What's wrong?"
You involuntarily step back from her, confused by what's happening and struggling to put your thoughts in order.
"I don't- what is going on…"
"What do you mean?" your heir/daughter asks, pale grey/blue eyes looking at you worriedly, "What do you see? What's the Rune done to you?"
"The Rune, yes. The Rune." you mutter to yourself with almost frantic desperation, "It must be why I'm seeing this."
Ignoring Karstah's concerned words you turn back and stare into the Rune, blinking away the tears as the light grows blinding once more.
━<><><><==><><><>━
You're back here again, trapped in your mind.
You watch two scenarios play out simultaneously.
In one, the young woman from before is older now, perhaps fifty. She labours beneath your stern gaze, the telltale signs of a Rune being forged. In the other, an equally young Karstah does the same.
You sniff critically as both Karstah and this figment of your imagination make the same mistake.
Both times you stop the girls and tell them what they did wrong, in one you are kinder about it than the other. You do not need to watch to know which was which.
The better version of you encourages your child, you do not do the same to Karstah. It shows you with the way you ought to have acted, could have acted, if you are a better man. If you weren't so willfully blind of implication and direction.
If she was
alive.
If Karstah was
her daughter.
You struggle to take control of the illusion, fighting against whatever has its hold on you with increasing ferocity until—.
—a mental pop, followed by the smell of burning boar, and the screech of shearing metal.
━<><><><==><><><>━
What's happening to him this time, Karstah wonders quietly.
Her master's body randomly twitches every so often, and occasionally droplets of molten blood leak from his nose, sizzling and singeing the stone when they hit the floor. The Runes on
Barak Azamar flare out and dim constantly, making the droplets stop for a moment, but then Master Snorri twitches again and they begin dripping out again.
It's not a pretty sight, downright concerning if she had the luxury to panic. Its clear that subjecting himself to the Rune is causing some sort of damage to his mind and body, significant enough that his armour is struggling to heal him.
But she's already tried pulling him away once before, and look where that had gotten her! Master Snorri seemingly caught in a state of absolute delusion, muttering nonsense and acting as if he had lost his wits before saying something about the Rune and subjecting himself to its effects a second time.
Tearing her gaze away from her teacher, Karstah eyes the source of her frustration petulantly.
That damn hammer better be there, or so help her she'd tear this entire place down to its foundations.
━<><><><==><><><>━
The visions of the girl end after your attempt to wrest control, and you are now watching a different memory.
You're reading a letter this time, by a Runelord from Izril. In it, you go through the effort of systematically rebuffing his declarations that you have damned the Guild by announcing Khazagar's creation.
Somewhere in the depths of your mind you're beginning to piece things together.
That reply done, you put away the letter and move on to the next one. If memory serves correctly it should be a particularly colourful rant from a Zornish Runelord that does everything short of calling you an Unbaraki.
Your memory moves on to the next letter in the pile, but instead of a Zornish tirade, you see a different sigil.
It is the personal mark of Alric Thungnisson.
This false memory of yourself hesitates, but eventually opens the letter to read whatever the son of Thungni has to say.
It is no damning indictment, nor some mark of praise.
Instead this facsimile of Alric asks you questions. Ones that make your gut clench because they were the very questions you had no satisfying answer to.
Why teach these Masters instead of taking on more apprentices? They weren't mutually exclusive paths. What benefit did you gain limiting yourself to just one?
Why extend your reach so far, why create so grandiose a facility and then immediately turn around and scream to the world you aren't attempting to co-opt the Guild? Were considerations made for what it could spiral into? An arms race, the letter warns, was inevitable.
Why force this change upon tradition?
Alric does not accuse you of schism, nor does he even insinuate it.
Instead he writes his supposed thoughts plainly.
You lie to yourself, about the truth of what you desire and believe. You tell the world that these changes are needed to safeguard Dwarfkind, to preserve the knowledge of our Ancestors and the work of our Guild. And to your credit those words sing somewhat true.
But that wasn't all, was it? Our ways did what you claimed, but not to your standards did they? Teaching apprentices is not enough, you must teach every Master. To spread your knowledge faster, farther, to teach them the right way. You smother and coddle those around you with gifts and trinkets, always intervening, always meddling because you do not trust them to do it properly. Defense in Depth, your overpreparation, your very title, Gift Giver,
says all that need be said.
You do not trust them.
Not our traditions. Not our people. Not your colleagues. Not your family. Not even yourself
.
Why should you? They all failed when you needed them most.
So you grasp, blindly, desperately, to ensure what befell you does not happen to anyone else.
You will smother them all to satisfy yourself.
It will damn the Guild, it will damn the Karaz Ankor, when the day comes that you push too far everything shatters in your hands. And I want to tell it to you plainly, because either you don't know, or more concerningly, you do and you do not care.
You know these are not the words of Alric Thungnisson, that the Rune uses him only as a mouthpiece for another's thoughts and fears. No, these are not his…
"But mine," you murmur, finally taking control of the illusion fully as you fold the letter up and put it to the side.
These are your thoughts. Your worries. Buried deep, so much so that you almost believed them conquered, but the Rune has dredged them up to show you, to pick at these scars until they bleed. An inelegant method of doing it, and nothing like what you expect from Thungni.
But perhaps that wasn't the point.
"Is this what you wish for me to learn, Lord Thungni? To remind me of my faults, to temper my pride?" you ask the empty room.
There is no thundering voice that sounds like it comes from all around you, no affirmation or denial of your words, nor did you expect any to begin with.
Only the crackle of the hearth and the beating of your heart.
Without any warning, you feel
something forcefully drag you out of this simulacrum and back to reality.
━<><><><==><><><>━
A sudden gasping breath makes Karstah turn her gaze away from the plinth towards her Master.
He looks…tired.
"Master Snorri, are you alright?"
Her teacher doesn't immediately reply, instead taking deep, gasping breaths for another half minute before his breathing eventually evens out and he slowly turns to answer her. She can immediately tell something is off from the way he looks at her; for just a moment his eyes are guarded and cautious like he's expecting something else, but he relaxes when he doesn't find it.
"I don't know child," he admits, maybe more to himself than her, "I think that's still up in the air."
"Master?"
He blinks, as if finally realizing she was there, then shakes his head.
"Nevermind all tha—" he pauses again, eyeing her oddly. "—I can't honestly answer you right now. But at least I can see this through to the end."
She frowns lightly, unhappy at her teacher's feelings on the matter.
"Master, if you need to rest then we can wait here," Karstah offers, "Karaz-Kazak-Rhun isn't good to anyone if you crippled yourself getting it."
"You could carry it," he suggests with a shrug as if the idea wasn't abject insanity, "I am not the only one taking this Trial. Besides, I think I've done enough introspection for a little bit."
Karstah murmurs exasperated curses under her breath, before she gives him a pointed stare.
"Alright Master, but this isn't over."
━<><><><==><><><>━
The next chamber doesnt even bother with the already threadbare theatrics of the previous two Trials, instead the plinths are already standing in the center of the room waiting for you and Karstah to approach. You and Karstah oblige it despite your newfound reservations, cautiously walking close enough that the Klinka carved into the lead plinth is legible.
To claim the Hammer is to claim the seat of one Lost.
To claim the seat of one Lost is to embody Us.
To embody Us is to be Dawi
To be Dawi is to—
—Resist.
Overcome.
Endure.
Combo, Dawi: [Rune of Wordly Warding, Rune of Inner Courage, This Choice]
Pick 1
[ ] [
Stone:] Left
[Improves general toughness. Wearer's willpower and durability is added to nearby allies]
[ ] [
Stone:] Center
[Improves general toughness. Wearer's mental resilliance cannot be negatively affected by any outside sources]
[ ] [
Stone:] Right
[Improves general toughness. Wearer's endurance and durability increase proportionately to their willpower]
Previously Chosen:
Rune of Wordly Warding: [Blows against the wearer cause the struck area to become increasingly resistant against that type of damage]
Rune of Inner Courage: [The wearer has increased bravery. They become generally aware of spells and items being used to negatively impact their mental state.]
━<><><>< Khazalid Trivia ><><><>━
Klinka - Shorthand for Klinkarhun, the Dwarf Alphabet.
Unbaraki - Oathbreaker, there is nothing worse in Dwarf estimation
━<><><><==><><><>━
There will be a three-hour long moratorium for discussion.
AN: A day late. I sorta got some of the Snorri trauma I wanted to include last update in here so Im happier than with the other one. Anyway, hope you enjoy. We're so close! One update left if you got/get this combo right! Also, don't forget to C&C. :^)
