Storehouse One was located deep within the oldest parts of grandpolis Io-dialauntiv. Having been built originally as a manufacturing site and test ground for the Golems of old, the campus was ancient but had many new additions since the development of the polis beneath. The bulk of this development lay hidden within a large bell shaped cave that over the years was exquisitely carved into a city center 60 stories from the floor to the roof of the cavern.
The cave formed within a pale cliff wall that was one side of a thin plateau thickly covered with cone shaped evergreens. The original natural entrance was a vertical gash in the side of the cliff face that ran most of the way towards the summit. The entrance was modernized and reinforced with five stone archways branching between two megalithic towers. Smooth stone walls formed the new exterior replacing the natural face with fine masonry. Here many towers and balconies held fast to the shear polished rock. With even certain villas established here being of a size to afford courtyards with rows of brilliant ornamental trees and green lawns.
The exterior developments were extensive, as well as quite new, this being obvious from the amount of ornately designed balcony villas. Where the polis proper within the cave was a refined well crafted den complex, this outer part of the ninavor metro was an elite location often afforded only by nobility. Originally the cave was once a shrouded place, where stonewalls blot out the vibrancy of forest life, and was home only to tall tapering stalagmites. Since the development of the Ninavor there has been plenty of clear white light and green fern-trees and purple moss in abundance. The cave was transformed into an atrium of a staggering size, and at its core was a mound of soft earth that with proper cultivation developed into a small wooded grove. The grove became home to an impressive seven thousand year old Brefrantris tree, which was so massive, the giant cone had to be trimmed daily to prevent the cave ceiling from being damaged.
The grandpolis was a monument to the grandeur of the second age, and being in the vicinity made Bamper start to feel the weight of all the lore these generations held. As Bamper and Gabriden approached the entrance, the sun was just cresting the peaks of the Urijfandril range to the east, and the mists of the Artmentfy Forest was thick in the morning air.
Guided towards a landing bay built into the top of the cave city, the winged saible car flew through the highest archway of the main gate. Settling down on a broad landing bay the car opened and the two stepped out.
Storehouse One’s lowest basement, level nine, was located right above the bay, and as they stepped across a dark stone floor the buzz of the cave metro that initially hit them as the car doors opened was now being drummed out by the sounds above. Even through those thick stone floors the bustle of the market was humming through the bays. Abandoning the flyer the pair climbed the cream colored stairwell up into a warmly lit pavilion that held the fragrance of burning bark and oils. The stone paved space sprawled out in all directions from the top of the stairwell. Above was a wide open space where balconies looked into each higher floor up to the clear crystal ceiling which doubled as the ground floor’s central square. Each one of the eight floors above shared the same large empty space under the crystal floor making many wrapping balconies of red-orange stone and gray support columns.
“Ahh, this truly is the finest place any gnome can find themselves,” Gabriden said in nostalgic reverence. “I’m sure you know, this is the home of the last Penden, and if you want to trade treasures with those Alimares you will need to submit your requisition forms to the Prince Ambassador in person.”
Bamper knew much about pendens, as the lore of dragons, and their eccentric lives, was a favorite in his youth. In ancient days, before the “Doom of Yaldabaoth”, the power and beauty of Dracon was without comparison. Before the conflagration brought on by the Voget, the drasic and kaytue union afforded a penden be made as a gift to the peoples of Edden Prime. The automaton would act as a guardian to the treasures their people cherished. The likeness of the guardian penden was that of Prince Ambassador Jed Kenuradah, a dragon that long resided in Edden Prime during the wars against the mamenta incursions. Jed was a calm and rational mind that found the kaytue and wyvern practice of blood sacrifices an abhorrent trend in his time. Ultimately when confronted with the collapse of his people and their entire realm the penden mimic expressed little remorse for the punishment that was in his programmed mind justly brought. So he remained in Io-dialauntiv at Storehouse One, where his presence as a benevolent soulless metallic dragon was appreciated with a fanatic fervor. So much so that several millennia since his arrival the sight of Jed’s silver form causes all to pause and take notice.
“My father told me how when he first saw the mimic it was aloft in the skies above the campus, and he couldn’t tell until later how large the machine was.” Bamper said “So I knew that the metallic behemoth still held his residence here. Later I learned his purpose, and was surprised. To be a guard against the long defeated forces of chaos seems a bygone concern.”
Gabriden paused his stroll and looked at the youth, a ninavor who studied much history but had experienced little. “How can we be so sure the beasts will never rise again to the higher realms? The cosmos is a light with the fires of war. Since the reawakening of man’s power we have yet to see how the cosmic balance will be restored.” Gabriden said with a grave tone and a serious posture.
Bamper thought of the wisdom the veteran had just given, and sensed the reality in it. He knew the changes happening in the realms beyond were dramatic. Heading into a vast cosmos filled with uncertainty, where his name and education would only carry him so far gave him a sense of dread, and the excitement began to fill up his core. In his surroundings he had always felt so secure, but even the storehouse was too much at that moment.
The Storehouse was an expansive complex, and the portion of which they were in was devoted to the artisans of the campus. Well trained ninavor who were responsible for the upkeep and renovation of the storehouse from top to bottom could be seen attending to polishing and conditioning the nearby walls and floors. From masons to carpenters to blacksmiths and painters the storehouse had an army of artisans. Their various open air workshops hummed and clanged, some billowing with steam, others sending out showers of orange sparks and gusts of air.
They headed towards an inclined portion of the pavilion where a series of lift platforms, positioned in columns, would bring them to the 3rd basement floor. A series of blue crystal square platforms supported by white metallic bars acted as lifts for the Storehouse. As they stepped on the dark translucent surface the pair were joined by four more fellows, artisans with brown coned caps and dark colored jumpsuits with heavy black aprons bearing many metal tools in deep pockets.
One of the younger artisans, a ninavor with brown whiskers, greeted Gabriden in a deep voice. “Greetings honored sir. How has the day brought you here?”
“Hail friend! Preparation is what brings us, for no better place is there to begin a quest than this fine repository of gnomish crafts.” Gabriden replied, extending his arms towards Bamper. “Now might you extend such courtesies as you afford me, to my company.”
“Indeed, you too! Welcome to the Storehouse! Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Bafgler Twal, the patronage I derive here is by my skills as an engraver. However my services guilding, etching, or generally embellishing any metal tools are available in my workshop.” The craftsman said in Bamper’s direction, all while making sure to show off several impressively etched and gilded chisels, burins, and hammers. He finished by saying, “Seventh floor, bay 89 should you need a demonstration of my facility”
“Thank you Bafgler, I will most certainly visit your shop, with the gear I have commissioned. However I fear that my journey must begin soon, and today’s work must be set aside if you are to complete any designs by my request.” Bamper responded.
“Bring me your equipment young sir! I will do what I can while the day is still bright, and impress on you the skills I possess.” Bafgler replied as the slow moving lift passed through a framed square aperture in the wooden deck that extended off the sixth floor’s balcony. As he and his fellows stepped off the lift onto the dark wooden deck he turned to face Bamper again, “Should I study your crest, what is the name of your house?”
“You ought to familiarize yourself with it my good sir.” Bamper started as the lift rose again, “I am Bamper Crissinthalliger, our crest is very dear to me, and I expect you understand why.”
“Crissinthalliger!” Bafgler exclaimed, his face forming a large happy smile, “I will make these works to be a symbol of our age. For relics they will become, in your name!”
Bamper cheerfully called back as the lift began again, “That is very well master Twal, I look forward to you impressing on me your excellent craftsmanship!”
Continuing the assent the pair passed through two more similar wooden decks while silently appreciating this nexus of Gnome lifestyle. From the higher vantage point Bamper was in awe of the size and scope of that place. He appreciated that the many workspaces were unique, yet were held together by a neat framing that prevented the differences from becoming dysfunctional and unattractive. Some shops were bold stone brick buildings with many smokestacks and few windows. Often those locales were bordered by garden pathways to other shops that were more temporary in construction materials such as cob or clay brick structures framed with red brown wood. Some floors had pools and fountains that showered sprays and short waterfalls down into other lower floors through large openings between the basement levels. Those spaces he assumed were where the painters had workshops, and he marveled at the appearance of such natural spaces in this closed stone structure.
As they approached the third floor of the basement level the design of the floors took on the old architecture. The walls became dark polished stone slabs of megalithic proportions. The shape of the dark stone walls and supports made the whole space look woven together rather like a basket. Except the wrapping pillars were too perfectly spaced, and upon close inspection were made of smaller stones neatly positioned to appear flush and whole.
The Casmarian’s first carved the halls as a safe storage for their impressive fighter craft and golems, thus giving the campus its namesake. During the days when the Casmarians fought to cull the Yailepps and destroy those subterranean colonies of giant villains, that place was a bustle of activity. Now like all the relics of that era that place was a quiet mausoleum to the might of the first age. The Storehouse in the first age was essential, the Golems were the only solace against the monstrous shape changers.
The impressive nature of these large mechanized suits of armor is hard to fully detail. Since each golem was handcrafted by the Casmarian warrior who wore it, they were all unique in appearance. Also since the suits were often retired after the warriors withdrew from combat, they were seen as heirlooms and held huge significance for their families and descendants. Most of those Golems were kept in the public space, yet belonged even in that era to no ninavor. For though the Casmarians were banished from their home, their possessions were secure and protected because of the reverence the ninavor held for them. In storehouse one the second and first basement floors housed 1272 individual golems. This tomb of technology also contained over 600 fighter craft, vessels that were engineered to be able to fly through both air and water, while also being able to burrow deep into the earth. The Marfelpwip was of this design, and had been gifted to Bamper’s Great Great Grandsire Dwarthalligan Crissinthalliger the III by a casmarian who descended from those cast out of Edden. This was a very rare and special gift, and stands alone as one of the few moments since the exodus of those peoples, a good relationship developed between a ninavor and a casmarian.
From where the lift was, Bamper could see into the higher floors above, and was enraptured by the dark hollow eyes of the bearded metal masked helms of many dark colored golems. The timeless statues leered permanently, their dark grimaces and well etched metallic beards captured the valiant warrior spirit of the “giant killers”.
The lift reached the treasury, and began to recede forwards into the stone surface, pulling the two towards the dark stone floor. They then stepped up, leaving the crystal lift platform to disappear into a thin slot beneath them. They walked towards a large set of stone doors along a slightly raised causeway of beige stone slabs. Along the causeway there were thick dark polished stone pillars standing three on each side coming out of the same colored polished floor.
Approaching Jed’s antechamber Bamper found himself nervous with anticipation of confronting the Prince, he had not let on to Gabriden at the time that he knew more about Jed than just the story his father told him. He knew that perhaps the circumstances of Dwarthalligan’s dealings with Jed in the past were common knowledge among Gnomes, especially those acolytes of Grawno. However he personally felt if Gabriden already poked that sore spot the other time they spoke of treasure, that he wouldn’t bring it up again.
The light gray doors began to swing open slowly as the pair reached the threshold, revealing a great room filled with the warm light of many large hanging braziers. The room was composed of brown stonework, polished and neatly engraved. The floors were a tawny color with an appearance like supple leather. The walls were made of neatly carved panels of brown and gray stone marbled with black veins. The beige walkway led up to a cream colored marble dais, where sat the gleaming silver mimic of a great dragon prince.
A large stone throne, without comforts or finery, held the intimidating form of the machine as it stared down the approaching duo with bright yellow eyes lit by a strange fire within. The penden was sitting upright, bearing his brilliant silver scaled chest as though his whole body was a bold shield. His collar and shoulders bore a heavy chained mantle, a symbol of Jed’s lived role as both an ambassador and prince of Dracon. This livery collar was the only part of him not silver or mythril, for it was yellow gold and dense, and certainly heavier than anything Jed wore in his living time. Made of segmented metal plates attached to a retractable frame the mimic’s wingspan was considerable, when displayed in a full spread. Jed’s armored limbs relaxed comfortably in the throne, with terrible clawed hands wrapped around the ends of each armrest. When the pair were at the foot of the dais the penden beckoned them, with a wave of his gleaming hand, to begin the affair.
“Salutations prince, we humbly request your approval in requisitioning certain rare earths in bond here in our treasury.” Gabriden said in a confident tone, and stepped forward offering a short stack of the embroidered forms Bamper had drafted requesting varying amounts of high quality silver, platinum, and palladium.”By your leave I present you with these forms.”
Jed leaned forward and extended his right arm towards the papers, opening his hand upwards letting the gnome place the papers on his palm.
As he brought his arm back up his gaze turned away from his guests and began to assess the data available on the requisition form. “Yes I see, and your stated purpose for today’s withdrawal?” Jed said, speaking in an eerie deep throated tone that tinged with a synthetic vibration.
“The prospect of trade with the people of other realms is our chief concern, and perhaps, should the need arise, as a means of crafting necessary tools.” Gabriden replied.
“Very well, your request is approved and your goods will arrive shortly. In the time while we wait, let us speak on the nature of your quest. Such a quantity of rare metals would need a likely buyer, and it interests me how such treasures are likely to be dispersed.” The penden said while closing his hand around the papers and beginning to stand up. “Please follow me to a more comfortable sitting area where we can await the delivery.”
An unseen signal was sent by Jed to a saible car courier system that would deliver the goods from the vaults. The silver guardian moved with great strides towards a sitting area far to the right of the throne in the same great room. His long tail bobbed and swung in a dangerous back and forth that frightened Bamper. The penden took a moment once it reached an appropriately enormous divan, and began retracting his metallic wings. By the time Jed had sprawled out upon the oversized sofa Gabriden and Bamper had situated themselves in chairs appropriate in size for their people.
“Since you now represent the treasure henceforth, it is important that I know as much about its intended recipients as you can guess. So please explain to me your expected trading partners and the goods you expect to receive in return.” Jed said in a calm monotone.
“Very well, let me introduce my ward Bamper Crissinthalliger, heir to Grawno, and the up and coming story finder planning this quest to the lower realms.” Gabriden said, presenting young Bamper.
“So you are the next Crissinthalliger, well do me the favor of not being the fool your great great grandfather was. Tricking me into thinking he had stolen a fighter craft was very stupid, and should have ended his life. Were that craft any slower or less durable his end would have been swift and just.” Jed stated sternly all while lifting his upper half up higher to intimidate Bamper.
Jed certainly hadn’t forgotten the boisterous Dwarthalligan. However Bamper felt mildly relieved that the old character from his ancestry hadn’t left any worse impression on such an indomitable warden.
“Dwarthalligan was a flashy gnome, and his antics were in keeping with his competitive spirit. However let me assure you, that I intend to be very sensible in my endeavors. My accomplishments and the wealth of new stories I find, will be how I help spread the Crissinthalliger legacy, not by showing off.” Bamper said, showing a serious face over his nervous countenance.
“Yes I’m sure. Now please explain your quest.” Jed replied, having resumed his reclined pose on the divan.
He was clearly only pretending to relax, considering his mechanical body did not require rest. The posture he took was to ease the nervous ninavor. Jed Kenuradah, was a kind dragon who saw the small 50 centimeter tall ninavor as respectable beings even in comparison to his own 7 meter form, and this same mindset was imbued into that penden.
“My intention is to follow where my grandfather left off, so the treasures are most certainly going towards the Alimarians found in the ice realm Plaith. Grawno spent many years among the Cafererkn Bareian, and in that time was involved in many conversations with these seafarers. One such discussion Grawno found so important, he put into me the charge of investigating the claims. The Cafererkn claimed that the ruins of Ephorian civilization had been discovered, and that there in was the activity of automata, whose sole function was the raising up of many fortified structures from the marshy fens of that realm. These robots were described as swarms of many flying microscopic droids, and their ability to self replicate makes guessing their total number inconceivable. However it is clear that their work has been ceaseless for millennia, and what they have created may be priceless.” Bamper explained with serious focus and a passion in his voice that gave Gabriden a chill.
“Millennia? Who has been attempting to reinforce an abandoned realm?” Jed asked in genuine curiosity.” Soren’s Empire surely has not yet reached the outer edges of the cosmos. It seems unlikely that the occupiers of Gaia, or any other human populations could have returned to Ephora.”
“These structures being produced by the swarms of mechanical drones are not strictly for defense of the realm, they are said to be vast archives. The impressive, yet austere buildings are reinforced to protect and house the raw data within.” Bamper explained further, but was cut off by a surprised Gabriden.
“An archive! By Helvestus you never spoke of this, what knowledge is kept there?” Gabriden asked with an attitude.
“Are you not a part of this quest?” Jed asked, looking at Gabriden.
“Why no, I’m simply offering to help start the boy, now please Bamper continue,” said Gabriden.
“My goal is to find that out, and if possible gain access to the archives. However I don’t expect to be freely allowed to do so, and therein lies my intentions for acquiring the precious metals. Alimarians adore those metals that share the color and luster of silver, and it is my hope that in trading such goods I may be afforded the passage and access to this Ephorian archive.” Bamper continued.
“Yes. So where is the information coming from, and what kind of knowledge is being stored there. In forgotten Ephora?” Gabriden asked, pressing for more insights about the quest he now wished he could join.
“I find it hard to believe myself, but by Grawno’s account the Alimarians believe the bots themselves are what gather data for the ever expanding archive. They say that certain drones capture photonic information in mass. Apparently they span across all open realms, and without being noticed they can go anywhere.” Bamper said with the uncertainty of such a fantastic story.
“You mean to say that in Ephora, an archive has been assembled by microscopic drones, over many thousands of years? Furthermore, do these same unseen machines have been collecting information from throughout the cosmos? How could this be?!” Gabriden asked, expressing his growing excitement almost in a fit.” The number of stories that could be discovered there would be endless! Oh what a thrill, Bamper!”
“Such records would be invaluable, and in the wrong hands could be the ruin of many well guarded sanctuaries in the cosmos. So these robots, are they violent? I mean do they guard the information they collect?” Jed asked, somewhat predictably.
“The truth is I know nothing more about these archive bots, other than they are ancient, perhaps made by the men of renown. Also from how Grawno described the Alimarian’s knowing how to gain access to the physical records themselves, I imagine if the bots are defensive they’re discerning in their targeting.” Bamper replied.
At that moment a whistle of air alerted them to the opening of the steel portcullis that lay in the wall behind the stone throne the penden sat in.
“Ah the saible car has arrived, a little earlier than expected. Let’s call this inquiry concluded, and with great intrigue.” The penden said as he lifted his body upright and brought his legs to the floor.” I imagine you will want to inspect the bullion?”
“Yes very well, we will have the car continue to the flyer once we have verified the metals.” Gabriden said, getting up from his chair, as Bamper did the same.
Once the transaction was complete and the authorization to trade with off-worlders was given, Jed’s penden returned to his granite seat. As the pair proceeded towards the exit following the quick saible cars departure, the penden called out in farewell.
“Bamper Crissinthalliger the Fifth, best of luck in your quest to find the archive onEphora, and in your dealings with the Alimarians. Also may your maiden flight in the Marfelpwip be more sensible than your forefathers!” Jed’s penden said with a terrible grin, which stretched into a roaring laughter that brought the fearful ninavor to laugh in turn.
The discovery of the Ephorian archive had been made by the Bareian that Grawno befriended, and in the decades since the Cafererkn’s power had increased significantly. A Bareian is like a clan, or group of directly related kinsfolk, and the Cafererkn were a very noble and powerful clan. These specific Alimarians were in control of 6 major fleets as well as a score of picket defense lines. This meant their influence within their claimed waters was considerable, with over 1000 ships in each fleet. They also had their respective oversights of such important picket line defense squadrons as: the outer plaith ephoran boundary zone North-Northeast, and the Kyrian Outer Circuit course 3. The bareian also had members who were in control of a series of the most major shipping lanes. All this being known to Bamper it was his hope to rekindle the relationship in the honor of his grandsire, but also in honor to those most responsible for showing his ancestor such hospitality.