Legacy of Zanzer Tem

Mysterious cloak and The Order of the Rose

The tattoos were fresh in his arms, and it was one of those days in the rift that makes you sweat by walking few minutes under sunlight. The young elf pulled his cloak trying to get some cover, yet the warm breeze was teasing his patience as it kept pushing his cloak away. “Why everything is so hard for me?” Boasted him to Mishka when he ceased walking to take a deep breath, “manus magicae!” uttered making a ghostly hand become visible. The owl flew instinctively away from his shoulder, surprised and scared of the wizardry. “Don’t be afraid my dear” spoke him gently while stretching his arm for her to land back. She flew back to him, but ignored his motion and landed on his head instead. Tail on his face, returning the favour. “Goddammit, get out!” scolded him whisking her out.
The hands were there, hovering motionless in front of him. The feeling of the sun burning his tattooed forearms back again, then he mentally focused on the hands. The spectral fingers grabbed his cloak closed, tight enough to hold against the wind pressure. “Much better” he told himself relieved.

The plains were vast and quite, with only friendly animal sounds echoing around. It was a very boring trip, the tall elf was tired of repeating manus magicae every minute. “Rather bored than in pain” he thought. The trip took few days, which seemed more like a week, the last day was the most pleasant to travel. The cloudy day blocked most of the sunlight, and the elf used to the nature signs could smell a rain coming. That particular scent in the wind, humid, noticeably moist. When he finally reached Edgewater the drizzle had already started, the vapour slowly making him wet as we walked. Mishka was getting afflicted, hooting beside his ears. “Calm down, it’s all right” spoke him gently removing his hood and putting it over the owl on his shoulder. The owl didn’t feel comfortable with the hood blocking her sight, however she was better than exposed to the rain.

The hooded cloak mysteriously appeared for him last week, two days after he was back from the mage island. The elf was walking alone in the forest and nobody was even around him, when he came across a long white cloak with a golden flaming wheel on the black. The red flames contrasting with the metallic golden and the white fabric. “The god of the sun is talking to me?” thought him recognizing Ixion’s symbol, looking suspiciously around he took the cloak. The touch on the cloak obscured his sight and for a moment he thought to be blind, but suddenly he was seeing a city that resembled Edgewater. People were running into their houses from an approaching thunderstorm, he found himself facing a sculpture depicting the symbol on his cloak. Before he could think of anything he was back in the forest. The omen experienced drove his actions, and he started preparing to travel. His father and grandfather Reluvethel and Volodar weren’t a big fan of the travel alone idea, yet his mother Talanashta knew nothing would make him stop and decided to give him her bless instead.

The drizzle quickly turned into a storm, and he rushed in the city seeking for a roof. Right hand holding the hood to protect Mishka, the owl anxiously nibbling his wrists. He suddenly stopped in front of a chapel where a small man was working on a flaming wheel sculpture, flashes of his presage overcoming his senses. “Do you want to get some cover mate?! Better help me bring my tools inside the chapel, would ya?” shouted the sculptor, the halfling trying to grab as many things as he could. The elf broke out of stupor when Mishka screeched, it took few seconds until he was able to process what the little man was saying.

“Thank you for you help sir, what brings an elf here under such a bloody storm?” asked the little man smiling. “Nice to meet you, my name is Valdemar Ligthtoak” introduced himself shaking the wizard’s hand. “What’s the little gift you have in here?” asked Valdemar peeking under the hood. The wizard noticed that without interrupting the halfling, he would never have a chance to speak.
“Her name is Mishka" and before Valdemar could say anything he added "I’m Elward Mithlenthar it’s a pleasure to meet you”.

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