This is a disaster. A disaster!
The Realm is a world based on sound illithid principles, but then the blueprints were torn to fragments and it has been finished by the insane and stupid. And then! Then it has run out of control, like a drunken troglodyte in a cave filled with shrieking mushrooms!
And Shaddar is stuck in the middle of this unstable matrix? Oh. My.
“If this is record of how the world works, then perhaps I can glean something of the rules by reading what the four slaves created before they were consumed by the forces of the experiment,” he thinks with forlorn hopes. How likely is it that the four tortured slaves would mentally co-operate, such that the chair and other magical equipment would understand and process their commands?
Shaddar only finds a few places where it is clear that they did overlap. These areas of synchronization are very rare. For the most part, the Qualith is beyond confusing – it gives Shaddar a headache as he tries to read the mishmash of thoughts. But when they happen, Shaddar can see how such common moments of thought changed the world.
A section that makes sense across all four rows reads: “Day and night”.
Another: “No gnomes”.
And finally: “Lords of Good and Evil”. This is followed by a confusing blend of adjectives and physical traits that makes no clear picture. Power. Magic. Claw. Huge. Hate the Illithid! Small. Pride.
Shaddar’s headache grows in intensity and he starts skipping around in an attempt to get past this mess. There are other portions that agree, but it is random and unfocused when taken all together. Out of control, just like the experiment had been.
Then there is a total blank for a single slab. Shaddar moves on to the next record where he finds that the hand-carved Qualith begins.
It is a record made by the local pygmy illithids in order to mimic the ancient tradition established by Felinxtrath of record keeping. At first, much of the writing speaks of acts of penance and the city’s sorrow for whatever offense they must have given their master – because he no longer speaks clearly to them.
Shaddar winces as he reads the new ‘canon’ of the pygmy illithids – a mass of bizarre stuff that the sages of the day came up with to try and make sense of the mad record that are “his final words of wisdom”. Studying the confusion of four lesser minds that are being interpreted as one? No wonder their sages’ writings sound as if they all lost their minds in the process!
The historical record speaks of the changes that have happened to the world and about the slave rebellion that has occurred – led by the mysterious Lords. Apparently, none of the pygmy illithids ever saw one of these powerful leaders of their enemies and lived to tell about it. There is a mention made of Dark Lords who fought against the Lords at first on the surface, but they were defeated and this allowed the new rulers of the surface to join with humans in their quest to conquer the Underdark.
Shaddar reads many tales of battles and skirmishes between humans and the slave races of hobgoblins and drow, but then tragedy strikes! The Lords use their sorcerous magics to divine the location of this most holy city!
The final carving that Shaddar can make out reads, “We hear rumors of the assemblage of a vast army – soon they will attack us here and –”
The writing ceases abruptly. The mute, shattered obsidian tablets are all that remain to finish the tale of the pygmy illithid’s defeat.
Shaddar pauses once he has finished reading the record to ponder. He taps his clawed fingertips together slowly as he thinks.
Who broke these other tablets? If it was the invaders why were only a few broken? Why did they stop? Did they have to leave quickly? Was their destructive revelry interrupted perhaps? Was it done this way for a reason? His eyebrows shoot up in speculation.
“Or perhaps it was broken by the same group that left such an unflattering magical note for me (or my master) in the arena?” he wonders, “If so, then the broken portion of the record would be something that this unknown party wished to see removed for some reason. Hmm…”
Much of the drow legends fit in nicely with what he has read here. And even more has become clear to him. This world has run completely out of control for thousands of years – with no guidance whatsoever. To the point where now even the flow of time has begun to break down. Is this the disruption that Felinxtrath was expecting to see once he arrived or was it something else?
Shaddar attempts to ask the brainmate some further questions, but it seems to be sulking or doing some heavy thinking of its own and it does not condescend to respond to his mental calls.
Perhaps more clues can be found in the main room of this hall of records? Yes. They moved through the first room much too quickly for proper study. Shaddar snaps his fingers and begins walking rapidly back to the entrance of the building. Toothsnatcher is instantly at his side; the rest of his minions hurry to collect themselves and follow him.
A careful search of all of the nooks reveals only a single point of interest. In the center of the north wall, he finds a huge half-statue of Felinxtrath, embedded into the stone. His master’s tentacles all curl towards his cupped hands which hold an odd-looking stone ball of some kind – exactly at eye-level. Examining it closer, Shaddar sees that there are four holes in the orb that appear to reach deep into the rock.
Shaddar fearlessly explores these holes and discovers that there is Qualith written inside the tubes! He quickly reads the instructions and finds that there are intricate dials and levers at the far end of the reaches. Only by having tentacles long enough to read the Qualith does he know the proper sequence to move the trigger.
“Felinxtrath was a sly one,” Shaddar thinks as the last combination clicks home and he withdraws his tentacles, “None of the pygmies would be able to open this lock – their tentacles would be far too short!”
Magical energies build around the statue and then a massive section of the wall rises backwards and swings upwards. The room beyond is exactly what Shaddar was hoping to find. A treasure trove!
Shaddar walks forward and surveys the glittering bounty that Felinxtrath obviously created for himself. His minions are stunned by the glorious hoard that is piled high on each wall. They gape and stare in wonder, having never seen the like before.
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