The Keepings of Castigue II - "A Higher Tongue"
Narian,
The hidden path by which some information in this world travels has confirmed your presence amongst the Dwarves - I am put at ease. Give Khadassa my sincere regards; I have neglected that frozen land for too long.
Regarding these writings, I am surprised you were able to name the distinction of Drak’Elrin and Drak’Fane. Yet, what you must further understand is that Drak‘Elrin is not merely an elevated dialect of the Dragon-tongue. While Drak’Fane is their common language and Drak’Seun the language of the Reignborn (those princes of the Dragon King), Drak’Elrin is of a different order entirely.
Over centuries of study since arriving on Terminus, the Elves have learned that Drak’Elrin is the Signet-tongue of the Dragon King himself. It is a fortified speech, overburdened with enchantment. We are not sure whether it is ever spoken aloud, but it is often called upon for reasons such as this. Simply: this is a language of unparalleled arcane encryption. Alas, our knowledge goes no further. Even this understanding was informed only by the inscriptions on the weathered boundary pillars that once marked each Reignborn’s land, though that was long ago.
Returning to the matter of this Dragon Accord, I trust you have labored greatly in your translation efforts, using the most talented scribes at your disposal. Yet I confess the copy you sent was...imprecise - therefore, I must assume the document you have is not the original. However, to my surprise these scribal errors proved serendipitously kind, for reasons that may not lead us down the path we had hoped for - at least not directly.
Whatever is contained in this Dragon Accord must be of inestimable value - surely it speaks of agendas beyond our perception. The lengths to which it is guarded by the ancient power of Drak’Elrin is staggering, with a grip far tighter than I could anticipate. My intrigue has been roused, and greatly so.
In isolated efforts, with the help of our highest thaumaturge, I initially labored over the transcription you sent me to find the errors. As I began to correct them, the delights and maddenings of the true Accord became manifest. Our first engagement left us toiling feverishly to keep the document intact at all, as it immediately transfigured into a tiny ball - heavy as a block of iron, though condensed smaller than a minor jewel. Laboring into the night, we were able to return the document to its proper form.
Because of this unsettling event, I set about making a number of additional copies of the parchment. Yet I found such a bizarre turn had been played again: even as I wrote the copies, if there existed more than two beside each other--the first inscription vanished entirely. To my misfortune, I was only able to ascertain this after much wasted effort and nearly a score of dry, blank pages.
As I considered these things, it struck me:
So powerful is this Drak’Elrin magic that a mere copy of its symbols would conjure the full protective might of the original document, wherever it rests on the planet...
I quickly turned to experiments of that sort, transfixed by what I might learn:
When I carved some of the symbols on a strip of dry oak, it would not burn. Not at first. Though engulfed in flames, I retrieved it twice without incident. However, after a brief time of this my etchings vanished. Why? I cannot say, but afterwards the strip caught instantly.
When written upon fresh parchment, I could submerge the document in water, mud, acrid poisons (from distance), and other similar liquid sorts--and yet the parchment remained unsoaked, nor stained or the least bit marred. Not even a drop drew up into the paper. This resilience faded again when the ink vanished.
Recently we held our Feast of Arms. Before the Archer’s Trial, I wrote only two symbols from the Accord to the backside of one of the targets - thin, clean strokes. True to form, when the arrows flew into this target they glanced to every angle, but never pierced. Fortunately, the ink faded before the target was inspected by curious officials.
I became indulgent, nearly infatuated with these tests, as each confirmation seemed like a finger lain upon the true Accord. In my youth, I would have loved these mysteries far more than their answers, and I would have been no use to you. Graciously, I have lived long enough to know myself...
My friend, I confess the Dwarves may not aid you in this effort. In truth, I know they cannot. We are at a stalemate that will not be won by accumulating delicate scraps of translated parchments, deciphering runes, unearthing entire tomes or appealing to sages. It is not a matter of more research. It is not even a matter of magic, Narian.
It is a matter of not being a Dragon.
My words sound final, as they should. However, I hope my response may somehow open another door, not expose a bridgeless chasm.
Respond as you are able. I will be making the journey to the Remnant in your stead, though I have reasons beyond the Accord to seek them out...
Upon my return, I must relocate closer to our city. My presence in council will be too necessary, as there are rumors of conflicts that may threaten every region, race and realm. I am not certain of enough yet, but know this: the door by which you are free to exhaust yourself in this pursuit is closing.
Be wise.
Kaolyen Greyborne, 474 I.H.