The Hall of Legend.

[MacThorstenson he/him]

Quote

Sorry for the late reply.

McKarl quickly wrote down what the curator said.

So there may be more security, and there are more guards. OK. We can sneak past guards.

"Do you mind if I go into the tomb of the forgotten and take a look around? Also, would it be bad if I opened a few of the tombs and looked at what people left behind? I wouldn't take anything," Yet, he added silently.

@Nohadon

[Nohadon he/him]

18 hours ago, MacThorstenson said:

"Do you mind if I go into the tomb of the forgotten and take a look around? Also, would it be bad if I opened a few of the tombs and looked at what people left behind? I wouldn't take anything," Yet, he added silently.

"Well you'd have to be supervised of course. My brother is down there and he'll make sure you don't try anything"

@MacThorstenson

Edited November 6, 2018 by Nohadon

[MacThorstenson he/him]

8 hours ago, Nohadon said:

"Well you'd have to be supervised of course. My brother is down there and he'll make sure you don't try anything"

"Ok, thats good. I was going to ask if you could accompany me down there to answer any questions that I may have. I'll head down there now."

[MacThorstenson he/him]

Quote

Sorry for the double post, but I think that it has been long enough.

Mac rounded the final street corner, walking into a large plaza with an enormous building on one side, its golden dome shining in the sunlight of mid day.

Despite the chaos of last year, this place still stood strong, as a memorial to the strength of the people of the alleyverse.

He could still see people moving around the yard, keeping it clean and organized. This, he thought, this is a place of unity. People banded together to keep the memorial above the catacombs clean and respectful. Though there was a certain irony that the people were united only in the death of their loved ones.

"This is the Hall of Legends, the Doorway to the Tomb of the Forgotten, where those who died in the seven day war lay." He told Temira, "The Main hall contains several statues and a small door way for people to go into the graves to claim the belongings of their dead." He continued walking, leading the way inside the vaulted doors and into the marble halls lined with columns. "The city put a ton of resources into building this building, importing materials from all over the cosmere." He gave a nod to the Canton guards at the door.

"This," He said proudly, pointing down the hall, "Is my statue. They never got the nose right, but aside from that its pretty good."

@Sorana

@Voidus

[+Sorana she/her]

Temeria followed him into the hall, quickly looked the guards up and down. The hall was impressive, huge. Some of the materials she had never seen before and she couldn't even place them. Her steps echoed slightly and almost gaped at the statues. They looked heroic, strong like heros from a story. She made sure to stay close to Mac, didn't want to loose him in the strange city.

She stopped in front of his statue and smiled when she heard how proud he was. "It is pretty good. Looks like you modelled for it?" She asked, although the thought that one day, a statue of her would stand in a hall wasn't exactly alluring. But then she'd never do anything that would be worth noticing. It wasn't her job to be noticed, that was for higher ranking - pausing she smiled at her thoughts. New world, new rules. She wasn't a soldier anymore. For now she was a traveller.

Looking around she felt small and unimportant, lost. This place, the world. Walking immortals. How was she ever able to find a place where she could be useful? Apart from guarding a place until he took over himself, the moment someone dangerous came. He was kind, maybe he'd saved her, or she'd have gotten herself killed within a few hours. A place to stay alone was worth more than everything she owned "I wonder, what I can do here, in this city, in this world. I'm just a woman, nobody special. From what I've seen, a sword is useless. I'm like a traveller that ended up in a dark forest and lost her way." Mostly she spoke to herself, the hall pressing down on her, like a mirror reflecting her uselessness.

@MacThorstenson

[MacThorstenson he/him]

"I actually didn't model for it." Mac said, "I have no idea how the Archivist got a good enough picture of me to make this statue, but he did." He tore his attention away from his glorius marble visage and refocused on Temira as she continued talking mostly to herself.

"I wonder, what I can do here, in this city, in this world. I'm just a woman, nobody special. From what I've seen, a sword is useless. I'm like a traveller that ended up in a dark forest and lost her way."

"Well depending on your perspective, that could be the best position to be in. You have the entire world open to you." Mac turned and started walking across the hall, "I could take you home you know. It wouldn't be hard. Either to Roshar, or Nalthis. But why would you want to? This world is the center of something huge. Here you can meet people from thousands of different planets, learn anything you want. Something like 1 out of every 5 people on the planet were born somewhere else. Everyone here is a nobody from another planet."

He stopped in front of Devaans statue. "Look at Devaan Sheonar. He was a servant for royalty when he was born, then he worldhopped and trained and then formed the Canton of Combat, the most prestigious fighting guild around. You could join them, if you wanted. Even though a normal sword isn't the most powerful weapon here, they could turn you into someone to be reckoned with." He peered closer at Devaans coat, Why would they go to so much detail on his statue? Putting an inside of his coat? "And as an added benefit, they aren't bad people either..." He trailed off. "Give me a second. The detail of this statue is different," He walked up to the statue, and reached inside of the coat, grabbing a little piece of paper. What is this doing here? As if he were at a crime scene, he only touched the edges of the page, trying to to fingerprint any part of it.

After reading what was on the page, he glanced again at the statue, reading the final lines of the inscription on the plaque, "World hopping, Devaan created many magical artefacts scattered around the alleyverse.'" Mac let out a small chuckle. "Sorry for being distracted. But it looks like old Devaan left a bit more to his legacy then I thought he did."

Mac looked around, the hall, not seeing anyone except for him, Temira, and the Currator. He thought about the words in the poem, one line in particular sticking out to him.

2 rings, lying on 2 lovers, forever separated.

What could that mean, and why was he focusing on that one?

@Sorana

@Voidus

 

[Voidus]

The spren dashed into the hall, catching up with the two as they strode slowly through. A number of candles rested at the base of some of the statues, the spren happily leapt in to each of these in turn, using the small wicks to twine itself around happily before moving on to the next one. After working its way through a number of candles it flitted up to the base of Devaan's statue, landing on a larger candle that was set near the base.

After a moment spent looking over the room and its occupants the spren sat down atop the candle, one arm hooked around the gently flickering flame and legs dangling over the edge as it watched the two speaking nearby.

[+Sorana she/her]

Temeria almost whirled around, when he replied, realized she had spoken loudly. Embarressed she followed him over to another statue, the founder of some fighting oriented guild. He had mentioned the guilds before and so she nodded. Scholar's guild, Conton of Combat. She'd had to pay both of them a visit. It might be useful to belong somewhere, although at the moment she was glad that she was free, unbound by some guilds rules. She had to understand more about this place first, before she would make that decision.

A good spot, maybe he was right and she was in a good position, had a chance to do something, to become someone else. To change. Or maybe that was for people who were good at what they did, unlike her who was only mediocre, nothing but a life ready to be thrown away when it fit someone. Contemplating his offer to take her home she looked at him for a while, with his cloths that seemed formal, although she could only guess on that part, the hat, the curly hair. Remembered how his face had darkened sometimes, how he'd declined a drink. The way he casually spoke about taking her home was almost frightened, as if it wasn't something rare, something difficult, like she had thought. "No." Slowly she shook her head,, "I have no place to go there either, not anymore." she admitted and then forced herself to smile at him. "I might come back to that offer later though, but for now - you are right it's a chance. Throwing it away would be stupid."

"Did you find something?" She asked when she saw him read something on a little slip of paper and smiled when she saw the spren sitting on a candle below, dangling its feet in the hair. A smile touched her lips when she saw it like that, uncaring, free. "It seems, like you really attrackted someone with your hat." She told Mac, gestured towards the spren.

@MacThorstenson

[MacThorstenson he/him]

"I did find something. It appears to be the clue to start a treasure hunt for magical artefacts that ol' devaan made, If I had to hazard a guess." He grinned, it had been a while since he had a fun puzzle to work on. "The spren, you know what, if this guy continues following us I'm giving it a name. Bill. Spren, you are now named Bill. Anyway, of course Bill would be attracted to my hat, it's simple, elegant, and just an all around amazing hat! And Bill obviously has good taste. Even if it almost burnt it,"

He continued thinking over the one line.

2 rings, lying on 2 lovers, forever separated.

Assuming Devaan wrote this, which two lovers could he be referring to? Assuming that the items were hidden on the alley verse, and that he would expect anyone reading this to know about who the objects could belong too, there were only a few possible candidates. The most famous of which was Rhazien and Yzabet Montague. One of which was buried in this very building.

"HA!" Mac let out a short chuckle, "Yes, I might have found the first item on the hunt." Mac quickly launched into the story of the legendary wedding between Rhazien and Yzabet.

About 20 years ago there was a pair of people, one of which my former boss when I temporarily joined the assassins guild, the other a member of a bakers guild directly opposed to my own.

Now they had a little thing going in the woods, and they were unfortunately planning to wage war on the city. So, in typical fashion, I called in the Dark Alleys wedding department and we married them on the spot. Hopping that it would delay the war. 

This was quite possible the most high profile wedding ever. We even pulled out a kidnapped Dalinar Kholin to marry them, and tons of people were there. We pulled out all the stops, unfortunately it didn't stop the war, and the husband died during the war and was buried in the very tomb that we are above right now.

Now, if I'm not mistaken. This riddle seems to imply that his ring is magical. And because its so close, it would be interesting to see if this riddle is legit." Mac turned and started walking toward the trapdoor leading below. It also may be just the thing I need. He thought,  A ring symbolizing the union of two guilds? That would inspire unity. Though it couldn't come from me. I would need help.

"You can follow if you want, though I have no idea what is down there. It's unlikely to be a simple hide and seek game. There are most likely defenses and the such."

Mac walked down the trap door, and into the tomb.

@Sorana

@Voidus

Quote

You guys can come if you want, but I'm going to shift to the other thread because thats where the encounter was planned to be.

 

[+Sorana she/her]

Temeria stared at the ring in surprise, when he placed it in her hand. It felt cool and strange symbols covered it. Mac had changed when he did something with it, his body, his hair, but she had no idea why and she doubted that she would understand it. He had changed, something in this place had changed him. Ever since he looked at his statue, he had been in a rush, as if there was some place where he needed to go.

She pocketed the ring and looked at the bones on the ground. With a sigh she pocketed her sword and then moved the skeleton back into the coffin. the lid was too heavy to be moved, but at least it wasn't lying on the ground anymore. Slowly she followed him upstairs again, blinked against the brighter light. He was standing in front of his statue again, looking at it.

Unsure if he wanted to be on his own, she stopped, looked around. A part of her wanted to leave this tomb, this place of memories she hadn't shared, she couldn't even understand, but to be alone in the city, the thought was daring and it frightened her. So she stayed where she was, waited.

@MacThorstenson

[MacThorstenson he/him]

Mac solemnly stared at the statue, then started softly intoning a poem.

"Strength does not follow the murd'rers
Nor does rightness those who rule
And Age gives not people more power
Nor anymore right to be cruel

Of late, these things I've forgotten
A loss caused by Power and Time
A snare I hope none else are caught in
A path that is nobody's but mine"

He turned quietly and reached into his pocket, pulling out his gold coin, with a bowler hat on one side and spikes criss-crossed on the back.

"I've realized now, that I need to leave." He said to Temira, "I'm sorry that I couldn't stay long enough to help you. But I'm a relic, of an age long gone." He glanced at the statue sadly. "I've been wondering recently, why the world seems determined to destroy itself, and I've realized that maybe it's our fault.

When you create something to be a final destination, a home at the end of a journey, there comes a time when you must step back, and let those who now live there, live their lives.

When painting a picture an artist will sometimes step back and say 'that's enough, anything else that I add will make it worse' and now it is time for me to do that, to move onto a new phase of my life." Mac stopped and raised a fist to his mouth as if he were going to cough, but if you saw his eyes there would be drops of water forming in the corners.

"Go to the scholars guild, there you will be able to learn enough to survive in the alleyverse, you can ask anyone for directions. Here, is the address to the boarding house. You can stay there indefinitely." Pausing, he lifted his other hand, revealing the golden coin he was holding.

"Finally, Take this coin," he said, "It doesn't do anything save allow you to store health in it, but I want it to be a reminder for you.

A reminder of an insane god, filled to the brim with regret." He reached out, grabbed her hand, and pressing the coin into it. "I won't ask you to live up to my legacy, but I want you to try and be the best you can, try to do what is right, and while hardship may follow, know that you are fixing a small part of this world."

Mac let go of her hand and straightened. Turning toward the statue, he formally strode toward it, pulling out a small book, his monocle, his cane and his ever present bowler hat. The book would contain a story, an abridged version of his life, the other items contained a legacy. 

Hopefully those who found them would do better than he did.

He laid them softly on top of the stone with the inscription at the base of his statue. Then with tears in his eyes, he whispered a final goodbye to the alleyverse.

Silently and purposefully he straightened then walked out the door, into the bright noonday sun. Turning sharply to the right, he approached a shadowed alley with mist flowing out of it.

Then, without looking back, The Gentleman Hemalurgist was enveloped by the mist, never to be seen again in the Alleyverse.

@Sorana

[+Sorana she/her]

"Wait!" She called out, when he walked away, ran over to the Alley, but stopped when he was enveloped by the mist, when he vanished. He needed to leave. She tightened her fingers around the coin, tried to fight the fear that rose in her throat when she looked at it, at its two sides. Store health. Whatever that meant. Slowly she backed away, the mist frightening her, just as the whole city frightened her.

She was alone.

She hugged herself when the thought slammed down on her and backed up, hastened back into the Hall, to his statue. It was familiar, the memory of the way he'd talked, how he'd started to explain, how he'd caught her, comforting. She sat down next to the statue, didn't touch the others things he'd left - if he wanted her to, then he would have given them to her. Another deep breath calmed her a bit and she looked down at the adress, at the key. He'd given her his house, the place he had offered her to stay. And he'd told her where to go next. The fact that she didn't know anybody again pressed down on her and she took the little book, opened it, only to find that she chouldn't read it as well. Of course. Why should he have used the woman's script for something he wrote? She put it back and then moved her legs close to her upper body, hugged them while she tried to figure out what to do next.

It was quiet in the hall, the few others that were here moved reverently and she wished that they would talk, that they would do something. They fact that she wasn't even sure if she could talk to them, that most likely they spoke a language she never had heard before was threatening. How huge were the chances, that she would find someone else who spoke her language, who took the time to explain - they were slim, and she knew it.

She read through the adress again, memorized it in case that she lost the slip of paper and then rested her forehead on her knees, took a deep breath. It was a new world. She was alone. She was afraid. Her hand closed around the handle of her sword when she looked at her fear, it was familiar, almost like a brother that followed her around. She considered to get up, to knock on another door, to ask strangers for the way to the scholar's guild, but instead she remained sitting, the fear that someone would look at her strangely, then turn around and walk away too strong. At least her she could hear others walking around, at least here she wasn't completely alone.

The coin was warm in her fingers and she turned it around, brushed her thumb over the bowler head and the nails. What a strange currency they had in this world. With the picture of theirs gods on their coins. A reminder. He'd asked her to do her best, to try and do what is right. Try to fix a small part of the world. Slowly she unfurled her legs, pocketed the adress and the key. He had given her a home, and a last piece of advice, a place where she could find help. He'd made sure, that she wasn't completely alone. Slowly she got to her feet and looked at his statue. Her fist hit her chest in salut when she thanked his statue, instead of thanking him, then she turned around and walked towards the door leading outside.