Cross the Ley Line

[Bovel]

Spoiler:

This is the story about how Riael comes to learn about the magic of the world, ley lines and runes. One of many reasons for this is the elf recently becoming a dragonsworn. Some posts are based off RP and can therefore come off as a bit repetitive. Enjoy!

- Is there some other preparation I need to make?
- For..?
- Learning... not even sure what to call it.
- About the runes?
- And the lines.
The second orc deems it safe, pulling his drenched head from the water back into the air.
The latter would come first. You need to be able to channel the ley before you can find the runes.
The elf leans over and draws in the dirt around him, as if taking notes and mumbles in his native tongue as he does so.
- Lines first, then runes.

- In essence, the lines and the runes are the same thing. When ley lines cross, they tangle and form shapes, a pattern.
Riael listens intently to Krona but keeps his eyes on the ground, making very simply drawings around him.
- You meditate, drawing that pattern in your mind and then you soon imprint it upon your skin. That gives you the power to channel that aspect of the lines.
- Where are the ones who have these runes?
- What do you mean?
- Lines cross and make patterns.. like a thread in an embroidery?
- ... I'm not all too familiar with tailoring.

The manly orc hears it's lesson time. Tossing his large arms in the air, he declares. "Boring!" He stands up and jogs off to the distance with a log carried on his shoulder, heading for his next wacky adventure. The elven student moves his lips around, pondering.
- How about roads or paths that cross and could form a pattern? Is it like that?
- Yes.
- This pattern or jumble of roads, where are they? Some old tome in Orgrimmar?
Krona shakes her head.
- No, they're in the ground.
Riael looks up at Krona and then glances down on the symbols he has made in the dirt.
- You mean on the ground?
- No, -in- the ground. The ley lines beneath us. They cross to form the patterns, you need to go over where the ley line is and meditate, really delve into the mystery of the world. When you do that, you can find the patterns.
Dry dust swirls around in the air as he rubs a hand on the ground, erasing something and redoing his notation.



Riael scratches his temple.
- Is that why I need to 'channel the line' before I can find a pattern?
- Exactly.
- You said something about... aspects, right?
The elven ranger looks around at his notes on the ground that now span a semi-circle in front of him.
- Yes. Each pattern has an aspect, some give strength, one other speed, others offer more... unique powers.
- That stone you gave to the troll, was it a rune upon it?
- The rune of thunder.
Riael looks up at his orcish mentor, confusion painting a blank expression on is face.
- How can thunder be in the ground?
- It's a name. Stop being literal!
Krona bonks him on the head and the student is caught off guard, looking as if he has no idea what to make out of the situation and chooses not to ask and remain silent.

- So it would be... a release of energy?
Riael shrugs.
- Line-energy?
- Yes.
He uses both hands to move his hair behind his ears, looking down at the drawings on the ground.
- What determines... I guess shape or does all releases of line-energy look the same way?
- Those who draw upon ley energies control how much they let in. You -must- draw in slowly at first. If you draw it in too quickly the ley line will overpower you and cause you to explode in a burst of magical energy.
Killing you.
Instantly.
The elf makes another change while mouthing - “LEY energies”. And then he looks up at Krona, a heavy seriousness to his facial features.
- Krona. Don't let me stray or loose control. I rather die.
- You will. That's the thing, you -will- die if you lose control.
Riael nods, oddly enough looking relieved.
- I fear not keeping a sound mind like so many magi did among my people. But if greed leads to death, that is good.

The farstrider stands up and moves about, taking a seat above his circle of notes and getting room for more of his crude drawings.
- Can you sense these patterns like you sense a line?
- Yes, but you have to be over the crossing to sense it. You can not sense a pattern from miles away. You have to be right on top.
- Follow lines. Do they change?
- Nope. They are consistent.
- What about during the Nexus War? Did the dragons make their own lines?
- Ah...
That is an exception. The blue dragons, being masters of mortal magic... they drew the lines out and used their knowledge to manipulate them.
Riael pays extra attention now, his notes taking more space.
- Any idea what happened to them now that the war is over?
- Unfortunately with their leader's passing, the projects have stopped and the lines are permanently redirected. It would take a mastermind of a mortal to mend the wounds.
- The lines, what’s their origin? I mean I doubt their original purpose or use was for -us- to tap into.
- Now that is... something of more mystery, however...

- There is some we know. You know of the Well of Eternity, correct?
- Yes I do, more than I'd like to.
- From there, the lines originated, and ultimately all of the lines still lead there. That was the source of all magic. When it was destroyed, the magic it left here remained, the pure uncorrupting magic.
The Ley Lines.
Riael looks over his shoulder to the east without a seconds thought, due to his uncanny sense of direction.
- They all come from the Maelstrom now?
- They lead to it... But I'm unsure if the power is still there.
I've never taken the lines there. Don't feel like drowning or being crushed.
- So there's really no way of being sure that they lead into it? Just that they can all be tracked back into that direction?
- Yes.
- Do they have any effect on things if not channeled?
- The runes? Some smaller runes stay in effect constantly unless deactivated. A larger pattern needs a constant channeling to work.

- For now, it's up to you. Meditate, learn, attempt to learn from the lines.
- Just.. like that?
Krona rises, brushing some dirt off her robe.
- I myself have some business to tend to.. an old friend to see.
And Riael, you know nothing ever comes "like that". You have to try, to work.
The blood elf chuckles.
- I'll do my best then, just thought I'd get the end of the yarn that is a line to start with.
The orcish ley walker bows before her pupil, soon fading away in a burst of ley energies.

[Bovel]

Spoiler:

Music from Cataclysm for the area this takes place. Added for ambiance.

Hours later...
...and the sun had begun to set. The patch of dirt that was untouched earlier was now filled with crude symbols and some thalassian writing and forced the blood elf to sit on the grass that framed his notes.

Riael only wore armour on his legs, the rest piled up a few feet away. He kicked off his fur-lined boots and folded his legs together, resting both elbows on his knees. A simple cloak is wrapped around his shoulders due to the oncoming chill of dusk. The blood elf’s eyes scanned the drawings over and over yet no realization came over him.

Where do I start?
What does a line feel like?
Am I sitting on one right now?

Thoughts kept rolling around in his mind until the ranger leaned back and stopped himself. This method wasn’t working either, there’s nothing more he could make out of what the ley walker had told him. Riael pressed a burst of air out of his nostrils in an annoyed sigh. He was left to try on his own and he was determined to not give up just yet.

Void the mind.
Sense the arrow.
See its path.
Envision the tar-..

His green eyes opened while a frown grew upon his face. Magic was never easy for Riael, not even when young. Avoiding it best he could for roughly fourteen centuries wasn't helping now. The ranger realized the flaw of the old archery focus, there was no target this time. Out of a pouch at his belt he picked up an ornate brooch and allowed it to roll around his finger like a coin.

What about these energies?
Would they feel similar?
I think my head is about to burst! Time for a break.

With a shrug he stuffed the jewelery back into its pouch and removed his shirt, legguards and leather britches. The setting sun coloured the water of Stonebull Lake a peachy pink, a slight breeze crimping the surface. Stark naked, the elf sprinted around his notes and dove into the cool waters beneath a beautiful evening sky.