Apr 25 18:50:56 106 PA.
From Chronicles
The room is black. If there once were lights in the room, or even light fixtures, they've all been removed. A woven hammock sways on one side of the room, looking handmade of some tough tree fiber and bearing a thick blanket, while the center of the room is dominated by a large slab of marble, eight feet long and six feet wide. It might weigh two tons, utterly flat and polished save that at the edges there's a faint lip running to a channel at the far end, and at the four corners are dimples. A wicker basket with twine-wrapped leather scrolls poking out sits nearby, along with a tall wooden chair. Along the sides of the room are a set of cubby holes filled with more rolled reading material, a few secured chests, and pedestal made of an onyx block, atop which rests a velvet cloth draped over something circular. Occasionally it makes a faint moaning sound, when Ahriman draws too near.
A quick triplet sticatto of knocks rap on the door.
As the door swings open the muted, indirect lighting from the hallway intrudes into he darkened abode. To the right a dark mass. The creature himself. Before Tirzah a grey slab with rough sides and smooth top is broken by her looming shadow, small veins of red quartz running through it to shimmer back and give a faint crimson glow. The chair is an indistinct mass in shadow beyond the slab, while to her left a roll of scrolls and something hooded makes a faint sound, indistinct and soon overtaken by Ahriman's speech. "I should not be surprised," he rumbles. "I have no lights. If that makes you uncomfortable, you may bring an electric torch."
"That will work," Ahriman replies simply. He steps away from the door that she might have some light for the moment, though wherever he walks seems more shrouded in darkness than most. The ebony being kneels beside a chest, unwinding the leather straps holding it closed before drawing out a large hand-beaten copper wok. Maybe it's used in cooking, or perhaps to hold oil fires. Either way, it's devoid of soot and discolored in blues, greens, and purples from fires of generations past. A light toss and the plate clatters on the slab in the center of the room, before he makes his way back to the far end of the apartment. A thick curtain is drawn aside and a window cracked, the night air easing in after him.
Looking at the pan Tirzah wonders what it is for as she steps over to the marble slab and away from the door's limited light. Holding out her hand she draws upon her link to open a passage for a sliver of elemental essence to come forth in the forth of a flame friend. "Burn bright, not hot, give me some light." She orders it curtly and it does so, kneeling on the marble and illuminating the area around Tirzah.
"You will melt the quartz," Ahriman rumbles, and pointedly stares at the pan. "It may be one stone of the world, but it is *my* stone. I dragged it up here, and I am not replacing it." He resettles the drapes, carefully, and wonders, "How is this great scheme of yours? You would think, with a link to fire and ... air, was it? That mucking about in the ground would not be your calling." The dark being strides across the room then, tugging one scroll from the wall, an then another.
Tirzah shrugs and looks to the summoned aid. "Stand in the pan." She tells it and it does so without complaint as her gaze follows the Darkling. "I would appreciate it if you did not call it a scheme, it is an effort to do something good and selfless for others." She says firmly. "And as for my calling, as I said before I dont now the first thing about the fates and their intentions. But toiling in the earth is kind of balancing for me no?"
The black creature glides from the window, staring curiously at the flame. "Would our brother be at home at the bottom of the sea?" he asks mildly, reaching halfway towards the small burning thing. "Or high in the clouds? You are a creature of fire and air. This plot of yours, to muck in the dirt, is a very human thing. It makes as much sense as sunbathing for me." The black man narrows his silvered eyes, leaning in closer to inspect the flame friend.
Tirzah raises her brow smirking slightly. "And what would sunbathing be to you Ahriman? Would it hurt? Would you be able to endure it? And if you could, would you gain strength and resolve from the experience?" She asks in a clam relaxed tone. "It is a very human thing, I am human. We are born so frail and fragile, only by forcing ourselves into elements that are not familiar can we be forged into something more capable."
The dark being looks up at the ceiling, darkened here and there by soot but largely unblemished, as if picturing a sky high overhead filled with sun. "I would survive," he decides. "It is painful in a way you may not understand. It does not hurt like a burn, or like a blade thrust through flesh. It is a desire. A want, to simply fade away." He stares up, jaw set, falling silent at that. Seeing either something high above, willing him into oblivion, or a black spot on his white ceiling. It's hard to tell.
Tirzah nods, smiling comfortably. "Then perhaps if you do, you will find that you do not really 'want' to fade away, but to fight, to prosper despite burden. Such is the mortal dilema after all." She adds, watching Ahriman's reaction to the last part closely.
"I find shelter," Ahriman notes, and lets his head drop. Eyes black as night, having chased away the earlier silver. "And in the dark I remember my purpose. My task has ended, you know." The black being blinks, and strides towards the slab of rock. "Show me what you came to display, human," he speaks, voice stronger. No deeper, but more forceful.
Tirzah nods and sets down the satchel on the slab. "I've collected all the maps and records of digging in the area. Denma asked me to gather what information I could to help him expedite his search. I'd like you to contribute your opinion to the findings, if perhaps i can offer something you want in exchange." She proposes spreading out the books and maps.
"What was the digging for?" the dark being asks simply. "And better yet, what are you looking for? Since this great magical storm savaged the planet, I have sought the fruits of men beneath the earth. I have not gone looking for rare minerals in at least seven thousand years." The creature drifts over the slab, dipping at the knee to his wicker basket to retrieve a pile of polished sea stones. He splays a pile of them loosely in front of Tirzah, dropping a few here and there in various corners of rolled papers. "An old weapons cache, even the titanium frame of a forgotten office building, or clothing kept cool and dry, is a surer find than minerals here on the center of a plate."
Tirzah shrugs, not entirely sure how to narrow it down. "Generally we're looking for gemstones of any variety. Ideally if we could find diamonds or emeralds, that would be a great boon for our efforts. But I'm not banking on it." She explains as she spreads out the various charts. "Most of these are claims that have tried and failed to find anything. A few are of claims that have been thought to have been stripped already."
"Minerals," Ahriman corrects. "Gems are shiny things people pay for. You look for minerals, and hope by cutting and polishing you can make gems." He takes in a long breath, staring at the maps, and notes, "Diamonds -- borite -- this is volcanic. You will see a sinkhole somewhere around a lava event of where borite was brought up from deep under the crust. On the center of a tectonic plate, you can give up on it. The same with gold. Perhaps once glaciers carried it into the center plains, but you need mountains and rock." He plants hands over the maps, searching for something. Black eyes silvering at the edges as he works, tapping one. "What is your expression? Oxidization? I am feeling oxidized, right now."
Tirzah looks at Ahriman having no idea what he means. "Oxidized? I'm no chemist but i think burning most things oxidizes them. So your are feeling burned out? Tired?" She asks, stretching her logic. "And what would I need with gold?" She then asks as she had not mentioned it.
"You kind loves gold," Ahriman notes, and tilts his head. "Beryl is also volcanic. Your emeralds and nearly unheard of on this land mass." He flashes a smile, remembering, "Now the Incans, these had gold, emeralds, sapphires, rubies, diamonds ... But to travel a continent south may be ah, problematic for more delicate beings." His eyes narrow, reaching back to shove that wooden chair at Tirzah. "Show me the local ley lines on a topographic map."
Tirzah blinks at the sudden charge and shakes her head. "I'll have to look into them, I don't know there locations off hand. But perhaps I can contract another who could sense them from afar. The best way though you be to hire a pilot on a clear night to chart them. If you can convince one to risk it." She supposes, her mind returning to the benefit of safe access to a focus point. "As for gold, I have no need for it." She states simply.
Ahriman nods absently, and pushes at those maps. "Worthless, all of it," he declares, and raises his eyes to stare at Tirzah. Silent and still as the grave, frozen in place several beats, before he continues. "You need volcanic activity for your treasures. You can travel great distances, or explore the local magic events and hope to find a depression, broken plate, or new rock formations. Signs of volcanic activity. Without them, you are better off looking for a buried jewelry store." He stares at Tirzah a moment longer, and adds, "or any buried store. Sell these finds for money, buy what you need."
Tirzah nods but then takes a moment to pause, considering a thought. "What if we caused volcanic activity?" She asks innocently. "Are such gems formed by the magma flows or brought up with them? It may be feasible to puncture the crust and draw them forth." She theorizes, looking back to the Darkling for input.
"Brought up," comes the immediate reply, with Ahriman retrieving his stones in a very precise manner. "Mineral crystal formation takes time and pressure. Even if you magically created the necessary elements, you would still need synthesize them into something appealing." A draft blows through the room, sweeping a cool chill around the open confines that shakes the loosened papers ominously, though none sweep too near the flaming friend. "Your hope lies in the power of magic not your own. The earth has been torn asunder for you. You can either compare your oldest maps, probably road and city maps, to modern maps and look for changes, or just float a line for a few weeks and see what's there. I like the latter."
Tirzah shoots Ahriman a curios look. "Float a line?" She asks, not understanding what he means. Carefully she recovers the scatter books and maps, rolling and closing them back up to put in the satchel.
The darkling sighs, head drooping as he stares at that slab. "Humans conquered this world before air travel. The most primitive cultures spread over enormous distances, transversing continents with ease. You think they accomplished this in canoes made of hollowed trees?" His head raises, watching Tirzah levelly. The way he says it, the notion does seem a little absurd. One eye narrows, black bleeding back in as he reminisces, "Once, as now, these blue lines wrapped the earth. They served as highways for magi, using the power of the land to travel, move mountains. I taught countless of your peoples these tricks over the millenia. Pyramids were toll stations on major nexuses, and the cultures controlling them grew rich. But more importantly, they managed the rifts and storms that previously allowed the creatures of myth to hunt on this globe. Some of the old pyramids are still active, controlled by things...' Ahriman shakes his head. "Things even I would not wish upon you. South America is out of reach by that way. But perhaps we will find something locally."
Tirzah glares lazily at Ahriman. "You didn't answer my question. No matter though my aides time is almost up. One question though." She decides as she finishes collecting her research material. "Why did you teach them? I mean as I understand elementals, to be immortal, you have no need to teach. No conception of the matter. You come into existence instinctively aware of every nuance of your plane of origin. Every need cared for a truly enlightened existence without any negatives. Why leave and come to this lesser place full of ironic primates?"
"When Zurvan brought me here," Ahriman speaks, shaking his head. The great mane behind his ears waves lazily in the flickering light, fanning behind him, "he promised that I would rule for eternity. Instead, my brother claimed that honor, but I *was* given nine thousand years of supremacy. And so, as king of kings, I was worshiped." Ahriman smiles, relaying these truths as though they were inevitable. "What sort of God-king would I be, had I left my followers to be ground into the earth from which they came? Ohrmazd thought this a great fallacy, and had Az put me to sleep for three thousand years. I woke only thirty years ago. I see he has been ruling poorly, in my absence."
Tirzah nods considering those words, seemingly at face value. "How very mortal." Is her only remark to the answer before she decides to go. "Thank you for looking, and the information, even if it is not promising." She says with a slight smile. Then as the fire friend dissolves retreating back to the elemental plane she heads for the door, making her exit.
