Since the Rise

Since the Rise is a diary recovered from the Tower of Vorn.

## Description

Serving as the personal accounts and thoughts of the drow inquisitor Vorn Helvlani, Since the Rise also inadvertently chronicles the elf's descent into a deepened state of madness, growing increasingly non-sensical as it progresses.

## Research

### Completed by Arnica

[...*"I could not say whether the soil above us stirred first, or whether it was instead the stone beneath us, but regardless, the city, the land around it, it moved. Surely this is how a frillmarrow must feel when hoisted from the waters of the Gloomdredge, fate uncertain in lands unfamiliar above. Turmoil in the tunnels is not unheard of, for the lands of the dens in the dark is ever-shifting, changing by means of natural process or design of person or beast, but this was different, more, and devastating. The first casualty clear to me was that of my guest for the day, or rather the best part of the week, for that is how long the devious and incredulous pest resisted the torment before spilling his thoughts, words and belly alike. As my tower had split asunder, he had been crushed beneath the rubble, and so the extent of his purpose spying in the city - and the truth in his claims of stirrings in the ruins of Mephiraashez - disappeared into the pulp that remained".*..]

[...*"Morrhelvgix Khos has survived where other cities had not. The numbers of drow generally had been widely decimated by the wars between the Master of the Repudiate and the Grand Corruptor as they spilled throughout the Underdark, and yet the Khos of the Helvlani Den had persisted, just as the Den itself had. And yet, it did not survive this, and neither did they - except through me. I had not skill with the blade, or bow, and so was considered by many to be worth little more than the blood in my veins, and yet I survived through paranoia, and my talent for it. Blessed by the Mother, for her webs spun codes to be found, and I had the mind to do so. There would be answers to this riddle too, and unto me it fell to once again find them. These thoughts are all that I have for companionship now."*...]

[...*"I do not fear the isolation, though the weeks soon race past. There are no answers to be had in the Trance, and so I seek it not, instead focusing on the here, now. My estimates suggest that the city, or what remains, now lies but a few hundred feet from the World Above, in the wider tunnels I can hear the groan of whistling winds overhead, like those that stir in the widest tunnels and caverns. I am no further in establishing the cause of this translocation however, but will continue to search the city and its limits for further signs"*...]

[...*"I did what I had to. There were others, scrawling across the wreckage, stripping all of worth from those that lay fallen. My tower, by surely the Mother's intervention, remains steadfast, and so they came for shelter within. That could not be, for I required what I had gathered inside, the source of my answers, my remedy. They met me with blade and whip, I returned with the arcane. There was a glimmer of approval, more so when I sought to collect from what remained what could still be used. There is power in blood, and with it perhaps knowledge and insight into this chaos. Others still prowl the city, those too that have gifted their bodies while their souls have long passed on. I hear their wails and cries in the gloom, voices devoid of life"*...]

[...*"The soil and stone stirred once more, little more than a month after it had done so before. Yet it was neither soil or stone that stirred, no instead from above. The World Above has seas too, stretching further than even the Gloomdredge or the Darklake, and from it waves descending - not of water though, but of ice and frost and the biting cold, glaciers spurred into a sprint, grinding rock and bone with ease. The bricks of my tower give way, I can but pray, beseeching wards of protection, deliverance, and yet none come. The city, its stone, its people, they were as grit upon my flesh, the dark and gloom looms, and yet I awaken again. There is no web that sprawls before me, no, simply a void, ever-changing and infinite. And nonetheless, I still draw breath"*...]

[...*"I lay in the rubble for days, skin frozen, listening for my impeding destruction, but hearing naught but my pained breath, the frantic pulse of the heart in my chest. Again I call for the Mother, but her eyes are blind, her ears deaf, her hands powerless to reach out. Unworthy, unworthy, unworthy. Only this room remains now, only me, and yet even now, as the tower around me continues to echo in throes of death, I feel the weight of a watching eye. My tormentor fills my passing thoughts with chimes and cracks, a swirling grin hidden in every shadow, every drip of condensation against the stone. I embrace the torment, finding myself deserving. I had my time to find understanding, and no such understanding was found"*...]

[...*"New purpose has been found, for unto salvation is offered. Freely, yet I know that penance and payment must soon respond in kind. The tormentor torments only those that seek the torment, for those that embrace that which is offered without hesitation or concern with flow upon the river. No further against the current do I struggle, no, now it carries me. Carries me to the embrace, to a newfound understanding. The tower lists, its heart frozen and broken in two by the frigid sea that came to destroy which was lifted up. Lifted up with purpose, the weight at the feet of a captive, and we simply the dust thrown to the air by its passage. The grin extends, strengthens, delight in the strength of the children"*...]

[...*"Glimpses have been seen, views of bleakness, a landscape still, and yet punctured by a spire. Is this why I was chosen, as kindred, a tower amongst the quietude, the dead? The stone screams, for the flames grow white hot in their intensity, and from the heights shadows tether like chains, stretching, clawing, reaching. Push and pull, pull and push. The spiral turns, encircling, a pulse and rhythm unending. A heartbeat, unquenchable, without need for boon or body. I have felt it grow close, the lands of the inimical, remote no longer.".*..]

[...*"There can be no doubt that this is by design. I have seen the paths laid, cobbles stretching from the twice-echoed land to those that cavort and wander as petals to the flower's head. The masters of the castles of the stars see them not, but they are not hidden from view to those that view them in their hiding. Strain weighs burdensome upon those that call down the trail, but their wordless cries are heard by those that long and listen to hear them. They may know not that it is they that cry and weep, but they do it all the same, marked in shadow seen by but a few. An anchor into the canvas ocean, to the eight from one less, for two are from one. Four slumber, four stir"...]*