Roots of the Forgotten Part 1

In the deep, winding caverns of Dûrnarn, where shadows drape themselves like velvet over jagged walls and the air pulses with the thrum of hidden magic, Elspeth resides. A sorceress, revered and feared in equal measure, her presence a whisper that dances through the city’s tiered streets, vanishing into the dark alleys and tunnels like smoke. She is known to the denizens of the city by many names—the Keeper, the Whisperer, the Warden of Shadows—and perhaps all are true, for she is woven into the fabric of Dûrnarn as intimately as the enchanted crystals that slumber within the earth. The city itself rises in layers upon layers of stone, a place carved from the bones of the earth, ancient and unforgiving. Every street holds secrets, every corner conceals mysteries, and each tier looms over the one beneath it, as though watching, guarding. Dûrnarn thrives on secrets, and the mines are its heart—a pulsing, relentless heart that beats with the gleam of crystals buried deep within its flesh. It is said that these crystals hold the power to grant any wish, but such gifts were not given freely. To ask for something is to offer something in return, and the city is a master of barter, never granting without taking. And Elspeth, with her knowledge of spells and shadows, understands this better than anyone. Her small shop, nestled within one of the city’s middle tiers, is where the desperate and the curious come to seek her help. She knows the language of magic, the secrets of the crystals, and the dark, winding paths where others feared to tread. And at her side was her assistant, Bell—a young woman caught between fear and fascination, who has come to Elspeth seeking answers and has found, instead, a mentor with powers she can scarcely imagine. Bell’s have had grown steady over time, her once-wary steps now confident, though the mysteries of Dûrnarn still unravel slowly before her. Together, they walked the shadowed streets, solving the problems that arise when mortals dare to make wishes they do not fully understand. Curses, hauntings, and fractures in reality itself—all are possible in this city that thrives on magic and the whims of its inhabitants. Bell has seen lives transformed, twisted, even destroyed by desires spoken into the crystals, their hungry gleam answering with ferocity. And yet, she has also witnessed miracles—the healing of a child, the fulfillment of a lover’s last promise, the spark of hope in the eyes of the forsaken. In Dûrnarn, nothing is ever simple, and the magic of the mines is as much a curse as it is a gift. Elspeth has seen enough to understand that the city’s power can not be wielded without caution, that its gifts are double-edged. And so she moves through its shadows like a dark flame, a creature of the city itself, bound to it, protecting it, or perhaps simply preventing it from devouring itself whole. For as long as there are those who wish upon the crystals, there would be consequences, rippling out like currents through the dark. And as long as Dûrnarn stands, as long as the crystals continue to gleam in the depths, Elspeth and Bell will be there to face whatever the shadows bring forth.