Evoke

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PERCEIVE HISTORY is a quest ability that is available for now to all eligible Bards until the quest has been completed. All magic using guilds utilize the Power Perceive skill to detect the presence of mana. Bards have an ability based on this skill to detect the traces of emotion or magical imprints left in a room. While the Recall ability allows one to quickly bring back information studied. Perceive history allows the Bard to truly experience the past.

Locations

Zoluren

• One is where sailors go.

You close your eyes, opening up your senses to what can be perceived in this room ... but are distracted by a little girl clutching a ragdoll crying out for her Mother. You glance downward and ask her if she is lost. She nods at you, saying, "We travelled here from Ratha and got separated. A sailor came and told that our inn rooms were ready. Momma said to wait here for Daddy to leave the ship, then went with the sailor." Before you can reply she yells toward the river, "Daddy!" and runs down the gangplank. Suddenly, she is knocked into the swirling water below by a burly sailor carrying a trunk. You shoulder your way through the crowd to where she fell, but all you see is the ghostly image of a child reaching upward. Her blond hair floats upon the water, and one hand clutchs the doll as she dissolves before your eyes. All you are left with is the sound of her voice echoing on the river's breeze, calling out, "Daddy!"
With a start, you find yourself drawn back to the reality of the here and now.

• A second is in the City of Elves, through a burl.

You close your eyes, opening up your senses to what can be perceived in this room ...
Moments later sorrow slashes through your veins with a knifelike edge, causing your eyes to snap open, riveted to a psaltery hanging from the wall. Without touching it you can recall the soft grain of the oak it is crafted from and the harsh edges of the soundbox as if you clutched it to your own chest. With certainty, you realize that the instrument's owner was holding it at the moment he learned something that caused him boundless sorrow.
With a start, you find yourself drawn back to the reality of the here and now.

• The third is in a place of great Sorrow.

Women dip water from a well, while nearby locksmiths practice their trade for young hunters. You close your eyes, opening up your senses to the history that lingers in this room ...
Suddenly you are surrounded by the city that once flouished in this place, before counted time, before the town's slow disappearance from the hillside. You are standing in the marketplace, feeling a part of it... the smell of meatpies tickles your nose and vendors' cries ring in your ears. A squirrel in the oak tree tosses down an acorn and almost hits you! A man leaning on the oak tree stares you in the eye and says balefully, "This is my tree. Don't touch it." Another man, holding a wicked-looking scythe, looks toward the first and asks, "Who are you talking to, Harcourt?"
With a start, you find yourself drawn back to the reality of the here and now.

Additional locations

• Bards who are well learned and eager to go the extra mile for exotic lore, may now unearth a portion of the history surrounding the Planar Telescope and the strange land housing the Grazhir shard Teloish.

Your vision plunges into darkness. You see a large cavern, lit only by a white glow suffusing the silvery-white shard Teloish. The cavern is far from its natural state: the floor has been worked smooth and intricate carvings are visible at the edge of the dim light. The meaning of the half-seen dots and serpentine lines is obscure, but they bear a resemblance to constellations. A high-pitched hum fills the dead air and with it the Grazhir shard brightens. Both the sound and light grow in intensity until the Grazhir shard discharges two arcing, incandescent bolts toward the ground. The streams of energy explode as they touch the floor! Your supernatural sight takes only a moment to compensate for the flare, revealing two entities standing where the streams grounded. The first looks very much like a male Human, skinny and pale with short red hair. Despite the mundane appearance, you get the bizarre sense that the entity is disassociated from its environment: as though it is not standing there so much as a realistic image painted over the background. The second entity is shaped like a Human in the abstract, composed entirely of light. It is naked and androgynous, without even a face to blemish the smooth planes of its form. Its light is harsh and feels somehow cold, like staring into the stars of a clear winter's night. The two entities regard each other and then walk wordlessly toward the opposite end of the cavern. The second entity's illumination reveals even more serpentine symbols, carved into the floor with greater frequency toward their destination. The first entity either cannot see or does not care about the carvings, but the second one pauses. It kneels down to examine one of the carvings for a long moment before catching up with its companion.

Your vision is plunged into darkness, though you can see a cold light steadily approach from the opposite end of a smooth stone cavern. When the light comes close enough to identify, it is not a torch or even some magic trick, but a glowing abstract Human shape, naked and androgynous. A skinny, red-haired male Human walks along side of it and slightly ahead, as though leading the way. The entity of light stops just short of your point of view and silently watches its companion advance. A few feet away from the entity of light, the Human figure stops in mid-step and quickly backpedals. Ribbons of silvery-blue and fiery red light erupt into life around its feet, tracing out serpentine patterns across the floor that bear a resemblance to constellations. As the magical light show reaches its climax, a faintly transparent image of a Human woman appears. The illusory woman is old, perhaps seventy or eight years. Despite physical fraility, thinning hair and ruined skin, the woman maintains an imperial bearing. She wears a robe adorned with patterns of gold, white, blue and red. She points an accusatory finger at the Human figure and barks out, "I name you Servant of Fate." In response, the strange symbols on the floor contort and dim, as though straining under some sort of weight. The Servant stumbles backward as though struck. Turning toward the entity of light, the illusion takes on a softer countenance. She says, "I do not enjoy this morbid gift. How many people are forced to see how little their lives truly mean? I am not destined to live forever, nor does any god care about Grazhir-touched souls. I will experience a death so complete that no one will judge me. All my line will remember is the name of the one who damned them. I am left with one final avenue for vanity. Stand and bear witness, Arbiter in Darkness." A painful swirl of wordless, violent thoughts emanate from the Servant like waves of heat as he steps toward the illusion. The Arbiter tilts its featureless head, taking in the entire cavern. The Arbiter projects a vivid imperative through the air: you will wait. The Servant hesitates, though the volume of its thoughts intensify. The illusory woman says, "The spirits wish to wage war on the children of Grazhir. So be it, your course will not be changed today. But if you insist on blaming them, then remember the fallacy of the seer! Fate is meaningless without the living moment; the future is judged by the past." The woman's voice becomes more emphatic, "You of all spirits cannot afford to forget the past! Do not dare to forget the lesson that G'nar Peth carved into our bones! You see the emanations of the children of Grazhir, but think about the places you cannot see!" The Servant's violent thoughts crescendo as it steps toward the illusion. The woman turns back toward the Arbiter and says, "It would never listen, but you still may give this moment meaning. By the stars above, I speak prophecy: just as you judge the children of Grazhir, so in turn shall your people be judged from afar. For each pint of blood that coats the mad one's hands, one of your own will know de-" The Servant strikes at the woman with its fist, disrupting the magic held the illusion together. The symbols go dim and the scene fades away.

The ink-black cloud above you disappears, revealing warm shafts of sunlight. Voices rise up around you, speaking a guttural language which you intuitively understand. Turning around, you see five male Humans speaking to an old woman. All six Humans share dark hair and complexion, though the woman's dress marks her out of the crowd. While the men wear undyed wool, she is wearing a robe adorned with gold, white, blue and red patterns. One of the men speaks out, "This cannot stand! if we seal the cavern, then what was the point of our labor?" The woman says, "Your labor was spent for those who can open the doors you cannot." Another man speaks up, saying, "What is this nonsense, Nera? The only other children of Grazhir are those ridiculous shamans on the steppe. What do you think those barbarians can do that we cannot?" Nera says, "I suspect you will live to find humor in this memory, but the tribes are not who I am thinking of. Trust in what I am about to say: we exist on an island in the ocean of time, isolated from great continents behind us and in front of us. We are epilogue and prologue, but we are not the story." Nera says, "Just as we are define ourselves by the past, we will be defined by what impact we have on the nexus that grows even now on the very horizon of possibility. It will be the salvation or destruction of the children of Grazhir. They must be shown the way of death and glory."