The following story was
lanned by Sydney Silamander, managing editor of The
Lady's Sharper Eye, through a contact at the Citadel of
Chiselled Enlightenment. The individuals contained within
this story have been verified through sources of
Ashenbach, owner and publisher of The Eye. However, the
validity of the story is left to the determination of the
reader. Please enjoy its content or, should you believe
the story to be of a true nature, heed its
warning.
"The
light from my stone was running out. I had lost my way
after departing from the Crumbling Citadel. The portal I
was trying to reach in the Core had alluded me and I
guess I had stumbled into the Sparkling Vast. Travelling
through any of the Inner Planes is nowhere near easy,
even for a member of the Doomguard. I wasn't sure how
much further I could go. That's when I saw them, standing
like eerie silent pillars before me, the ash statues.
These statues were unlike any that I had ever seen. The
detail and design appeared to be extraordinary. Then I
remembered the stories that the Vast contained an area
that would harden any moving object and had frozen many
lost sods. I suddenly felt so cold that I thought my
protection had failed me, but it was only raw fear
gripping my bones. The Vast has been reported by
greybeards as a region of splintered glass that sparkles
and gleams brilliantly when exposed to light, but I never
believed the stories of a field of ghostly statues. I
might have still not believed once I saw them, if one
hadn't spoken to me.
"The
statue that spoke to me was a bariaur, or at least it had
been before its transformation. The bariaur now stood
still as a grey sculpture made of solid ash, but the
voice that echoed within my brain-box was alive enough.
The field, like its otherworldly occupants, appeared to
be devoid of all life - except that the eyes of the
statues had retained their colour and still glistened
with some form of basal essence. The bariaur had hard,
black eyes that glittered like twin onyxes on its flat
grey face. Its lips did not move, but its voice, growing
clearer as I approached it, was still within my head. The
poor sod was sobbing and crying. I called out to it in my
mind, "Who are you?" The answer was short and soft, "My
name is A'ram of the Steelwool clan." I wasn't sure if my
mind had begun to decay or if this ash statue had
actually answered me. Since I doubted I could find my way
to the Core and had no hope of returning to the Crumbling
Citadel, I decided my best chance of giving this place
the laugh was to continue the conversation before the
blowing ash put me in the dead-book.
"The
bariaur turned out to be quite friendly, if not a little
barmy. A'ram had been frozen here over a hundred cycles,
since before the beginning of Hashkar's reign in Sigil.
He was very pleased to see me, as apparently the ash
statues can only speak to unfrozen souls and then only to
one at a time. So even though we were surrounded by
hundreds of these "living" statues, the poor sod was as
lonely as a Signer in a Bleaker's cell. I lanned all
sorts of darks about how he had come to be here and where
he had been going, but he mainly wanted to discuss my
journey. He seemed to thrive on chant from the Outside,
as he called it, and was most inquisitive as to my recent
origins and intended destination. Standing in the quickly
piling ash, I quickly grew colder and weaker. I decided
that I had to move our conversation along. I asked A'ram
how the statues are formed and was there any way off of
Ash in this region. He explained to me that the statues
were formed by the removal of all heat by the Ash and the
emptiness imposed by Vacuum so that only the soul
remains, helplessly trapped inside a frozen body. I felt
terribly sad for this honourable bariaur, member of a
vibrant and joyous race. To be robbed of the movement and
vibrancy of life, for him, was unthinkable.
"After
revealing how the statues come to be, the bariaur told me
that I still had a chance to survive and escape the Ash.
He described the location of a secret portal, which would
take me to the elemental plane of Earth. Seeing as I had
a better chance for survival on Earth than Ash, I began
looking through the macabre, silent field for the portal.
A'ram told me that the portal was near the field of
statues and would be recognised as five ash-dried bones
lain in the form of a circle. Somehow the ash would never
cover the bones from sight. The portal would only
activate if a person declared their love for Ash. I
figured this as quite unusual, but beggars can't be
choosy, especially when my zone of breathable air had
almost run out. I found the portal about 100 yards from
A'ram. I marked it with my pack and quickly returned to
A'ram to say my farewells. As I turned to leave him, he
asked me to free him. I fully understood his meaning and
with a slash of my sword his imprisonment was ended. His
soul was freed from its timeless cage. I wished that I
had time for the others, but my pack would soon
disappear, covered by the quickly falling ash. I ran for
the portal, began yelling my love for Ash, and jumped
into the circle of bones, hoping that the portal key
hadn't changed. My surroundings blurred and I became ill.
I couldn't focus my eyes and fortunately slid into the
blissful arms of unconsciousness.
"I
awoke to find that my trip had ended successfully. I
found myself lying upon a bed of marble at the Citadel of
Chiselled Enlightenment, on the elemental plane of earth.
The cleric attending me indicated that the Citadel was an
institution of knowledge and wisdom. My body felt cold
and stiff, I assumed from the flaying of my skin by the
ash. However, the cleric indicated that she had attempted
to heal my wounds, but had been unsuccessful. It seemed
that something was blocking my recovery. She told me to
rest and see if my condition would improve. But I felt
like I was growing colder, even colder than I had been on
the Ash.
"Over
the next three days I learned what was hampering my
recovery. The portal was evidently either cursed or
caused strange side affects. I briefly wondered if A'ram
knew the portal was corrupted. Regardless, my guess is
that the moment I stepped into the portal, a
transformation began. My legs were the first to be
affected. I found that I could no longer stand, for my
feet had turned the colour of grey ash and would not
move. The condition continued to move slowly up my body.
It was only a matter of time before it would reach my
chest and I would be no more. I didn't know if my soul
would stay in my body like A'ram. Since my time was
growing short I told my story of the ash statues to the
cleric that attended me. She wrote my words carefully and
told me that I would be remembered. On the morning of the
third day, my chest grew very heavy and then everything
faded to black."
-- Transcript of
the traveller Nezor Deird as recorded by Vaka Tomebinder,
elementalist sage and High Scrivener, of the Citadel of
Chiselled Enlightenment.
[Clerical note: Once the
transformation of Nezor Deird was completed to a statue
of ash, contact could not be established with him of any
kind. It was debated whether his statue should be
destroyed to possibly release him just as he released the
bariaur A'ram Steelwool. It was decided that his statue
would remain, because as his body froze his face was
smiling. His statue remains at the Citadel today as a
testament of his journey.]