Tablet (book)

The Tablet

Authors note: There are different types of scholars in the world. There are those who sit and read, and having read wondrous things proceed to write about them, as if from experience. And then there are those who discover the wondrous things through diligence, those who write the first books. And then there are those, like myself, who have scholarship thrust upon them.

I am certainly not a great mage yet, for I can barely discern the future of the sky's mood, much less divine events of a passerby's future. I do not yet know the positions of the stars. In truth, I came to The Crossing from a nearby village where I first dreamed of becoming a Paladin. As a youth I had seen one leading a small party into battle against a raiding party, and that became my mission in life.

I had constructed a small boat and crossed the swamp, past which I followed the path to the East Gate, wondering how many people had also walked this path. I tripped on a stone - a chance happening. As I wiped the grass and filth from my robes, something caught my eye. Though the stone was encrusted with muck on its bottom side, and a few snails and worms still clung to it, I could see a tiny glint of gold. Wild dreams of wealth ran through my thoughts, and I quickly picked it up, thinking it to be a solid peice of gold. In actuality, it was much lighter. Intrigued, I concealed it and proceeded until I came to a small creek. Glancing to make sure none were watching, I kneeled by the water and washed the stone.

Indeed, there was gold, but it was set into the ordinary hunk of flint which I tripped over. Such intricacy! Such a strange pattern, such confusion in the detail. This bizarre piece would fetch a tremendous price. And then fate smiled and thumped me in the head. I stood dizzied for a moment with the realization that this was writing, unlike I had ever seen. I am no linguist, but I received a fine education in my humble villiage by the courtesy of a wounded mage who spent much time recovering there. I came to know much about the world, and became acquainted with the written languages. This, then, was either evidence mistakenly left by a stealthy spy from some unheard-of power beyond the reaches of our Traders, or a tablet left by a civilization long dead.

I spoke to as few people as possible, and entered the academy hastily. I borrowed a book on the ancient languages, leaving a substantial sum as collateral for its safe return, and took it back to a room I rented at an inn. I spent the next three days without sleep and with little food or water, doing my best to force the arcane language to fit any of the known scripts of ancient lore. It seemed some hybridization of ancient Elven and Elothian, with some verbs from a Human dialect. Once I finally determined its nature, I proceeded to translate some of it. My notes were sufficient for the task, and after some heavy sessions of study, I returned the book to the academy in the evening. I suppose it was a mistake not to trust the innkeeper with my prize, for on the way back I made a wrong turn and came face to face with a small band of robbers. I remember a dull pain on the side of my head and then blackness, and then the morning sun as I woke in the gutter. I scrambled back to my room, paniced, and then I found that the tablet was missing along with my remaining funds.

How often I have cursed myself for not submitting it to some professor at the academy I cannot remember. What clues lay in that tablet? What secrets? Before I left that evening I began work on it. The script is characterized by an uncertain grammar, so I apologize if it seems rickety...

"Erected and floating today this is of the thirty-second hundred yeared we of the Elves honor the craftmanship displyed by Human the shining builders made the city. Elothians and Elves and Humans the forever soaring over the globe in the together of brotherhood and alliance. Gone the banished ones now but needs vigilance is the watchers for, and thus by the cities we protect and save the Elanthia globe."

This much I transcribed intact. The rest is somewhat broken. Below in smaller type was a desription having something to do with the function of a lever. I do not know specifically how this lever was to function, but it would give access to the place where the shelved-one dwelled. I assume that the tablet served as some sort of cornerstone, but I am unsure how it fit in with the original structure.

The nature of the implied structure is certainly startling. Again, many scholars could have fared better with the translation, but my shock lent me persistance: the words floating and city are irrefutably paired, just as shining builders, soaring over the globe, and banished ones are. The latter three pairs leave me confused, but the former - Floating cities sets my mind to working whenever I happen to think of it.

I returned to the area where I found the tablet and rummaged through the undergrowth for a week. Finally, exausted and malnourished, I staggered back to the city and collapsed on the steps of the hospital. The kind caretakers there put me back on my feet and, understanding my plight, afforded me a small loan which I could pay back to them in time.

So I became a Moon Mage, and shall pursue the mystery of the flying cities until I find more evidence of these ancients.

By what magic or engines did the people of this age accomplish such a feat? What became of them? How far did their empire stretch? And why have none heard of them until now? The question which disturbs me most is the matter of the banished ones. Who were they, where did they go, and when will they return? Most important, what are we to do if they return?

END OF ACCOUNT