Seid gasps and blinks as he looks around at the strange phenomena unfolding around them both. It was... glorious! The knowledge and power contained within this 'Codex' was beyond the reasoning of most. He looks at Vark with a grin as he tries to physically interface with the object, eliciting a response of runes lining the tesseract. 'So you do not respond primarily to touch. Perhaps the power of the mind is where you elicit a response. So be it. Open.' Suddenly a circle of runes appears on the face that he's touching. It rotates beneath his finders and dissipates. The facet turns translucent and stretches away into infinity, like he's suddenly looking down into the Codex and it's bigger... so much bigger on the side.

Seid looks at Vark with a large grin. "Do you trust me?" Vark looks at the Codex, then back to Seid with a nod. Seid opens his mind to Codex, willing his very essence into the expansive, void of this higher realm of existence and possibility, tugging Vark's along with him.

An intense feeling of vertigo suddenly takes both Seid and Vark, as though they are tumbling head over heels. Their vision blurs and there's a rushing sensation and a roaring in their ears, followed by the sudden impact of solid ground beneath their feet. The pair of mages find themselves stood upon an infinite plane of crimson glass. Up ahead stands a great castle, surrounded by nine gates and a flowing brook of molten ruby.

Seid stares around in awe before turning to Vark, still holding the half-orc's hand with wide eyes and a smile upon his lips that turns to sudden laughter. "Hah! I knew it! This is something akin to a demi-plane I imagine! I wonder if this is Matthew's sanctum? Have you ever been here before, Vark?"

Vark’s grip tightens around Seid’s as they are thrust into the depths of the runestone. Once his vision stops swimming his eyes open wide and his jaw drops open. “I- wh-where...” Vark loses his words as the impossibility of what he’s seeing overwhelms him. “I... n-no I haven’t been... I didn’t know... I didn’t know it could do this!” Confusion turns to elation and Vark flashes his companion a toothy grin. “This is amazing! We should get closer right?” He gestures with his free hand to the crimson citadel before them.

After passing across a drawbridge and through the castle gates, Seid and Vark stumble upon an exquisite meadow in the courtyard. Here, they encounter what appear to be inhabitants of the citadel, many of whom wear semi-circular cloths draped over the shoulders and around the body. Some wear crowns or circlets, another falcon-eyed man is dressed in armour and there is one bearded man, wearing a turban.

Vark stops and stares in wonder as they come across the assorted figured. He steps closer to Seid, moving his hand to the man’s shoulder and speaking into his ear. “I didn’t think there’d be other people here... what should we do? Doesn’t seem like they notice us yet.”

The return to Sheercleft was, as it was every time recently, a mixture of feelings. Riding Stonebrow through the city gate, Bründir drew many excited and envious faces. A few older dwarves even gathered by the road and stuck appraising fingers at various points of interest as the local hero passed. For the first time, even after expelling the goblin horde, Bründir felt the part of a champion. He sat high in his saddle, puffed his chest slightly, and waved to familiar faces who marvelled at this shining visage.

The dwarf's homecoming eventually brought him to Ringrut's tavern, where two familiar faces stood waiting for him. The grizzled visage of the tavern's owner smiled, though it broke his face like a fissure in stone. Brynja, however, was a vision of prideful bravado. Her beaming grin told the world she held pride in her parenting as much as her son's success.

(Update to follow)

Seid looks at Vark with shrug of his shoulders. "I had hoped you knew more about this place than I. We should try to interact with them, see if they can give us some information on where... what this is." He jerks his head towards the people moving about. "These people look like the are from Adrianus; Hellia, Sarameia, these others look like ancient royalty." He nods reassurance to Vark as they both begin to approach the nearest individual, waiting to see if they react to the duo at all. If not, Seid will hail them with a wave of his hand. "Hello. Can you tell me where we are?"

"Asgorath's blessings be upon you, friends!" Declares the man who Seid has approached. The Hellenian's mouth splits in a happy smile when he is spoken to. He has a sharp nose and wears a toga, with a wreath of laurels sitting atop his head of dark curls. "I am Virgil - welcome to Ignis!"

Once again Vark’s jaw plummets to the ruby red floor. He looks at Seid in disbelief, then back again to the Hellenian man. “Uhm h-h-hi, Virgil. Uhm. Thank you. I’m uh... well I’m Vark and this is Seid. C-could you tell us exactly what ‘Ignis’ is? We’ve...” he looks again to Seid, unsure of how much to divulge. “Stumbled here. On accident.”

"Why, the focus of His power, of course - the sapphire runestone!" Virgil explains congenially, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.

 Seid shares Vark's look, though much more concealed with his enthusiasm than the young man as his side. 'Virgil?! As in the ancient Hellenian poet? That cannot...'
He looks around at this place, this Ignis, his thoughts a raging torrent of confusion, excitement, fear. Then turns back to the man before him as he recalls a line of Virgil's masterpiece, the Aeneid. He can still recount the original translation in Celestial, but as he recalls the words in Breannian they suddenly ring a bit more poignantly now as his eyes take in the scene playing out before him. He swallows back his concerns, they would deal with that particular issue if they were relevant. He looks to this man claiming to be Virgil, there was only one way to be sure. The words that followed were halting and unfamiliar to his tongue, and a few words might be pronounced incorrectly... "Facilis descensus Averno: Noctes atque dies patet atri ianua Ditis; Sed revocare gradium superasque evadere ad auras, Hoc opus, hic labor est." He watches carefully for any reactions from the man. 

Virgil eyes Seid with marked curiosity.

"How poetic. Is that your own work? It's beautiful. Do you mean to say that you wish to go deeper?"

Vark looks more lost than ever. “Uhm... yes I think we would like to go deeper actually, but first... you said this is a sapphire runestone? That’s weird because the runestone we used to get here was ruby. Uhm also... who is Asgorath?”

Seid smiles as 'Virgil' does not seem to recognize the source of the stanza. "Perhaps--- Oh, Vark, I think we should examine what we have before us before we begin to delve too deeply." He glances sideways at his companion raised eyebrows. "But for the poem, it was written long ago by a man sharing your name. Yes, I would love to know more about this Asgorath of whom you speak and of this place. From where did all of you come? Your dress is very similar to different eras and regions from our homeland. We would love to sit with you and enjoy your company if you would have us?"

Virgil blinks at Vark with a vacant smile and shakes his head almost imperceptibly when the sorcerer mentions the ruby. Thunder rumbles in the distance and the philosopher's body briefly flickers like a distorted image.

"Asgorath's blessings be upon you, friends!" Virgil repeats, as though seeing Seid and Vark for the first time. "Oh, He is the flame of creation, lord of all dragons. We are but his humble faithful."

Vark’s brow furrows slightly as the man experiences the strange disturbance. He shares another curious glance with Seid before pressing more. “So Asgorath made the runestone then? Hmm... Virgil, do you know who Matthew is?”

"Perhaps," Virgil muses, "from a certain point of view. I think that most would say that it found him, but who can truly say?"

When Vark asks his next question, the background bubble of conversation in the great crimson hall falls silent. Whispers dance among the crowd as many turn to look at the interlopers.

Thief. Traitor. Liar.

Virgil glitches once more and repeats his greeting.

"Asgorath's blessings be upon you, friends!"

The visceral shift in the atmosphere brings a regretful grimace to Vark’s face. “Oh, uhm-“ Seid places a concerned hand on His shoulder. “Vark, maybe we shouldn’t-“ The half-orc nods eagerly, clearly on the same page. “Right! Y-yes, uhm Virgil we’ve uh... taken up enough of your time, m-maybe we should get going, right Seid?”

 Seid holds his hand up. "Not quite just yet. Let us see what we can find out. Who knows if we will get this chance again?" He whispers to Vark before turning to Virgil. "Asgorath's blessing upon you, Virgil! We have come seeking information about the Deceiver. He was unwittingly unleashed upon our world, and we have come here to Ignis to learn all we can about him. Would you be the ones to speak with? Or must we go deeper for such knowledge?"