Heroes of the Sagas IC [Archive] - Page 6 - Giant in the Playground Forums

Kasanip

2010-08-12, 06:25 PM

Raia and Garadiel

Raia watched in silence as she held Garadiel's hand. They had traveled a far distance together- from the underworld, through the mountains and lands of Iuvenis, until she had come to Westerly now with him. And she had seen many things maybe she had never seen before. From this perspective she could see the destruction and the pain, but there was the hope that she had wanted to be there. Still people were enduring and living. But she wasn't a part of that now.

She was proud of her warriors and soldiers. But it had been their heroics that had won, and not of her own. Raia always had favored the strong and the skilled, who would pursue their own victories. Garadiel's words stayed with her, and she often thought about them silently as he had led her and guided her.

And she saw the young woman who held part of her own soul. She was helping earnestly, with strangers and friends in a way that was both familiar and distant to Raia. And Garadiel continued his work, gathering the slain and protecting his people.

She had failed to do that. Maybe it was the journey, as Garadiel said. How had her spirit reached this woman, and why? Raia didn't know. But being here it resonated with herself. And Raia wanted to reach out and touch the woman, but her hand passed through her. Like an illusion of life, Raia was here in spirit. But she could not hold a sword or a bow. But she could hold Garadiel's hand.

"Brother." She said, looking up at Garadiel. "It seems I can only ever ask selfish things of you. I am grateful for everything you have done for me. But I don't know what path to choose. To return to being whole I can do with your aid here... but from there I don't know where my path leads me."

She held his hand to her chest, an expression of wistfulness on her face.

Perhaps it leads through a different door. And perhaps we won't meet again for a long time.

But I do know that life is a precious thing. It may come and go quickly... maybe too quickly sometimes.
But it isn't the end. Is it? In the Dreary Wastes I began to understand that."

She looked up into his eyes.

"I don't know if I can run with you, to the end of your journey in this life. I would love to have such a race.
But when you guided me here... I began to understand.
I won't beat you in such a race. You were always faster, weren't you? But it's okay. I'm happy enough to be behind you.
I can see the worry and hardship on your face. You've worked so hard...and suffered so much already. And it won't get easier."

She hesitated, and then reached up to touch his face gently. Near the mark of the tree that branded him.

"But I want you to know I'm proud of you. I'm proud to be your little sister. And no matter what paths we walk, that won't change." She said earnestly, with a smile of admiration.

She lowered her hand again, and looked at the lands. The wistful expression returned.

"What these lands need more than anything right now... is Peace." She said softly. "Not war.

There is no place for me here. I think in that way...may own purpose may be fulfilled. Celestan and Ganrei...though they are headstrong, are capable and heroic. Their ideals and the hope of our family...that's what this world needs."

Carden

2010-08-12, 08:09 PM

Eridi had watched with amusement the disappearance of Kylfa-Madur. Another enemy of the family gone beyond this world. But, in that moment of hesitance and victory, he had lost his chance to take his father's spear. It was with that small sense of defeat he was brought back to the reality of the moment, the passing of his father.

With this wave of sadness, he forgot his vow and landed at last. After his nephew spoke, it came as a jolt to him that he touched this sacred ground, but this wasn't the tree of creation, it was the resting place of Rognir. Extending the offer of a supporting arm to Faolan, the craftsman weighed his words carefully before speaking. "Don't be angry with the tree, Faolan, its duty was never to interfere with fate. Father wouldn't want that. He did, after all, come to protect it from the three that were here. Yet, this one wasn't at fault, either. I fear he was just a pawn of the dark one. Nara said he spoke of peace, of good things, not evil."

Looking up through the labyrinth of branches, Eridi could barely make out the motionless sun. "No, let father and son be buried together. Both fought for what was right, even if their opinions and methods differ. At the end of the day, they still reside in the land of the dead." Touching his spark, he expended what was left of his energy. First he erected a magnificent marble tomb over his father and brother, hoping the tree didn't mind overly much. Then he reached for the heavens, willing the sun to move, hoping to set it back on the path his father had made for it.

Act Expenditure
1 Minor - Make the Tomb of Sorrow, Final Resting Place of Rognir and Ateris
1 Minor - Try to Move the Sun

White Blade

2010-08-13, 10:29 AM

Nefarion Xid

2010-08-13, 05:19 PM

Castle Tourandois: Last hold of Relkis in the Borderlands

A cold wind slithered through the half broken ramparts of the outer wall and into the heart of the keep. Fog clung to the hills; unseasonable and unnaturally dense. Extra torches and braziers were placed along the walls to guard against the darkness and provide the paranoid soldiers with a modicum of comfort. They stood back to back and avoided the outer edge of the wall, each thinking some thing would leap out of the darkness and drag them off. Paranoia, assuredly. They'd won after all. Right? Their general still lived and they still held the fortress. They'd endured the horrors of the north and fought them back... right?

Now, have you ever seen that one dapper and inordinately cheerful sort among the hung-over masses on the first of January, and thought to yourself "What is that guy's problem?" You know, the one in a smart suit and an untied tie jaunting through the grocery store in the A.M. and cruelly wishing everyone a good morning? Clearly, he was up to the same debauchery you were last night, so why isn't he suffering as well? Tonight, Aldric was that jackass.

After an indeterminable span of time resigned to his bed he'd been struck with a certain... whimsey. The next time his servants and family left him alone, he flew to his wardrobe and swiftly dressed before slipping out the window and into the night. He wanted to look his best after all; he had company and so far he'd be a very poor host indeed. Back in Castle Elmdore, Lucien was busy trying to force open his father's chamber door, but found it locked with a magic beyond his ken.

Aldric took no measures to obscure his form as he scampered along the crenellation, dancing gracefully from stone to stone, heedless of the guards who watched him coming and going with a mixed look of confusion and frightful paralysis. Some simply chose to disbelieve their eyes, others sobbed dumbly and cradled their heads until he'd passed. A particularly brave or senseless few went for their weapons only to have them shattered in their hands. Aldric flashed a bright charming smile and went on his merry way to Relkis without ever lifting a finger to defend himself. The only thing that made him happier than the prospect of killing someone who deserved it was the fact that Rognir was dead. The giggling was perhaps uncalled for.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-15, 10:16 AM

Celestan, after the fight

Celestan was truly saddened by the death of both Rognir and Ateris; two noble souls with tragic flaws. He bid farewell to Ganrei, telling him about a great hall he planned to build on Negeb, where all the free-spirited and adventurous mortals would gather. He also thanked Faolan dearly, hoping the best for the Grey Watch in the next years. He would make sure to visit their headquarters frequently to help them take care of all the refugees from the recent conflicts.

Before heading back, Celestan recalled something peculiar; a bestial shout, in the midst of the battle. Like a wounded bird. Could it be the phoenix, his uncle? The god of Fire and Hope focused his divine senses to located Shen Zhi Shu.

ArlEammon

2010-08-15, 10:24 AM

Before heading back, Celestan recalled something peculiar; a bestial shout, in the midst of the battle. Like a wounded bird. Could it be the phoenix, his uncle? The god of Fire and Hope focused his divine senses to located Shen Zhi Shu.

Shen Zhi Shu
Shen Zhi Shu waited in his Sanctum, a ghost like figure, his spirit covering all of his wounds in Himiko Shrine. He looked out at the battlefield and waited for the outcome. Meanwhile, he hoped that somehow someone could know what was happening with him. He would have to somehow heal himself if he could, but in the meantime, he was vulnerable to attack. At the moment, he was afraid that somehow he would be attacked yet again. That would not put him in a good mood.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-15, 10:29 AM

ArlEammon

2010-08-15, 10:33 AM

A bit later, a fireball fell from the sky and hit the ground near Shen's sanctum. Celestan emerged from the crater rubbing his temples. I gotta find another way to travel.

He came to the door of the shrine and knocked three times, shouting:

"Hello, anyone there? Uncle? Chei?"

Shen Zhi Shu And Celestan
Shen Zhi heard Celestan at the gate, an unmistakable voice exactly the same as he heard before. Turning into a shining hawk, Shen Zhi met Celestan, but not before transforming into a hawk and flying through the windows, transforming into a man once again, before opening the gates. "Celestan. . What are you doing here? Xiang Jian is at war. Please come into the Sanctum."

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-15, 10:45 AM

Celestan

Celestan looked around.

"Oh, still at war? That's madness. The All-Father and Ateris are both dead! Doesn't that general know yet? I'll help you with that, even if I hate war...just because this has to stop, very soon."

Celestan followed his uncle inside.

"You seem extremely pale uncle. Let me share my life force with you."

The young god extended his arms. A torrent of pure, harmless white flames swept the room. Red hot wisps of energy flew from Celestan's form to Shen's. And as their life force mixed and their spirits joined, Shen's health was slowly restored to him. If he looked himself in a mirror, he would notice not only that most of his burns were gone, but also that he appeared a few years younger.

ArlEammon

2010-08-15, 10:49 AM

"You seem extremely pale uncle. Let me share my life force with you."

The young god extended his arms. A torrent of pure, harmless white flames swept the room. Red hot wisps of energy flew from Celestan's form to Shen's. And as their life force mixed and their spirits joined, Shen's health was slowly restored to him. If he looked himself in a mirror, he would notice not only that most of his burns were gone, but also that he appeared a few years younger.

Shen Zhi Shu And Celestan
"Thank you Celestan. After this is over, I will reward you for your help." As Celestan and Shen Zhi Shu made it over to the gate and were let through. . . the enemy soldiers noticed that now the stakes were much, much higher. Two gods were now in the battlefield. Shen Zhi Shu turns to Celestan,"Will you turn to the enemy and give them a chance to turn away, or should I? I doubt they will listen, however."

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-15, 10:53 AM

ArlEammon

2010-08-15, 11:03 AM

Celestan

Celestan looked concerned, and turned to his uncle.

"Yeah, doesn't seem to easy. Although...you are the god of wisdom and magic, are you not? Couldn't you send them visions of the other divine armies surrendering or running away, or even of Ateris' death, and somehow make them realize that this is the truth - and not just lies from those who they consider to be demons? I could try and pull the same trick I used to convinced the Fire General...but I fear I don't have the necessary strength."

Shen Zhi Shu

Shen Zhi Shu turned to Celestan with surprise,"You mean your not fully a god yet?" He says concerned. "I think I'll give them fair warning as you suggested. I'll even add a threat to their visions as a final kick." Shen Zhi Shu turned to all the enemies in the battlefield,"Turn back," his voice roared magically, filling the ears of all the foes. Within their next breaths they all had visions of the other armies all failing spectacularily against the defenders. When they were finished, those visions, they realized that against Himiko, Ruah, Celestan and Shen Zhi Shu, they had less than no chance. Needless to say, soldiers began to turn back.

hi-mi-tsu

2010-08-15, 12:55 PM

"Apophis." The goddess utters the word of her Exarch, her steed, in a soft murmur; her voice is wet, sodden with tears and the grief of losing a father. She may have hated the curse that Rognir laid upon her brother, and through that herself, but...

For years, she had been the beloved of his heart. And was, still, a blessed child of the Lord of All, if his healing of her had been any indication; she touched the white, jagged scar over her heart, and the oft-forgotten pendant of iron, the cross her father had given her to wear when he had healed the wounds of her body and--for a moment--her heart. She had not taken it off since, neither waking nor sleeping, and gripping it now brings her comfort. A cold comfort, for her father is dead.

The Winged Serpent had arrived, while she sat in silent contemplation, eyes red and cheeks stained by tears; now, she lifts her head, and Apophis inclines his own.

"You called, my lady...?"

"It is time. Take me to Erimere."

It takes only an hour to make the journey, and the goddess alights, landing in front of her temple; Eithne is still there, and Calantha bestows upon the girl a wan smile.

"Come, youngling. Take a quest with me. You come here for teaching, for answers...come, see inside yourself."

There is a room in the temple dedicated to Calantha that is dark, and has layers of richly-colored cushions on the floor; in the middle is a long pipe, and a charcoal brazier. Calantha settles on her cushions, and gestures for Eithne to settle next to her; lighting the pipe, she inhales deeply, and passes it over for Eithne to do the same.

Time
passes
by
so
slowly

She is in the stars, among them, she can feel the heat searing her skin and she sees the writing in them, sees her brother being pierced with the spears and arrows of Fate at the end of time, sees her falling next to him but no, because Rognir is dead and the curse is broken and everything makes sense and not

She falls. She falls, and there is nothing to catch her, only darkness. Only darkness around her, and in her eyes is light and brilliance, the best of a world she does not know, madness and chaos and the stars ever twirling look down on the world and know nothing of it--

Aldric dances--

The sky dances--

Fire and burning and they dance across the snow

The goddess gasps; it is like being pulled from a freezing river, swimming back to the real world after being plunged into the innermost delusions of the mind.

"I see it all, I understand...I see everything."

(Spend 1 Major Act; Up Delirium Domain x1)

Raz_Fox

2010-08-15, 02:18 PM

Rognir and Garadiel

"Eridi must discover how the world is bound. And when the cycle comes around again, you must stop the eternal dreamer again as the rite of passage. Do not let the world fall into decay, do not let it expand into ruin. Do not forget that you are divine, do not forget that you were once mortal. And make this world shine, that those that come after might remember it."

Rognir enters the Fire with a smile on his face. And the world itself mourns that Rognir Thousand-Named has died, just as it rejoices that he has been reborn.

Turn 8 Begins!

White Blade

2010-08-15, 02:58 PM

Garadiel, Post-Rognir's Reincarnation
Rognir has been reborn! thunders the voice in his brothers' and sister's heart. Good tidings, they proclaim, our father lives again. He lives again! Glad tidings on at midnight, good news amidst the dark. And it has taken their brother little time in his work, for Rognir has returned to the world in a little more than a full day. Indeed, Garadiel's work was swift this evening.

Garadiel, on the Greenmaw Isles near the World Tree, far from the day of Rognir's death
On the Greenmaw Isles stands a house. In this house lives a woman and her son, though the boy is not yet too old. He was born on the second anniversary of Rognir's death, to the wedded of Garadiel. Yes, Garadiel wed himself to a mortal. He is young now, though he will be old with time, as all the children of Rognir are. He is five years old. He wears the traditional garbs of a child from Westerly, as is the way of his mother. His name is Verdant, for he is like the green lands he dwells on. He is a daring child, a bold child. Black hair like his father's, blue eyes from his mother, a smile that hints of cunning and eyes that are watchful and sure. The boy is stringy and has not yet even entered manhood's beginnings. He plays in his father's garden, tended by Hulder who prize the child of their favored Lord well. He carries a shield made from wood and his strength is immense, even at such a young age. He has a warm heart, the Hulder say. He has heard his father's love for him with certainty from the day he was born, his father spends time with him and whispers the words in True Speech which are louder than the crack of heaven and the fire that shall consume the sky on the day of Álrodores.

His father has not left home save to guide the dead in the last few years. His siblings have not heard from him, indeed, he seldom leaves the house for more than a few hours. He is paranoid now, scared for his son. What if his brothers or sister decide to end him in petty vengeance? But he has delayed his father's will too long already, and he knows the journey ahead of him may take some time. He must go speak with Eridi, whatever worries he has. The Elder of the Hulder understands. He is standing with Garadiel watching the boy. He looks at Garadiel and nods. Garadiel goes to his son and gestures that he is leaving for some time. Verdant cries, for this is the first time his father has left him for any great span. But in the end the boy's tears dry and he wishes his father luck. The Elder of the Hulder nods. He understands that they must protect this boy as they might protect the tree.

He comes up to Verdant and spins a tale of the World Tree, of his glorious grandfather and aunt, who gave their lives in service of the World Tree. Verdant is quickly transfixed and Garadiel smiles, heading back to the house to retrieve his traveling cloak. He sees his wife and kisses her tenderly and waves goodbye, and she shakes her head in consternation before heading back into the house.

Hybil'Smitia, seven years after the death of Rognir.
A hooded figure has been spotted in the skies of Hybil'mitia, for there are many sentries that move in the skies. But none has caught him. He is not spying, he is on a journey, but he moves too swift to be caught by more than the glance of an eye. When he at last arrives at Eridi's house or his forge, wherever he senses his brother's presence like steel, it is dead of night, and he knocks politely.

3 Major Acts to begat the Demigod Verdant, detailed in the OOC.

Nefarion Xid

2010-08-15, 04:25 PM

A ship headed south

"Putain de merde! She nearly took my hand off!"
"Hein? Vas-y..."

A deckhand rushed out from the hold, clutching one hand in the other and shivering. At first glance, you'd have mistaken the one who called him over for the ship's captain. He had an air about him, a look that was keen, stoic and somehow effortless. He was the sort of man who'd take a punch to the jaw because he was sure it'd hurt you more than him; hell, he'd probably buy you a drink after and critique your form.

"Bah... it's fine. Not even a scratch on you," said the man to the deckhand after examining his lack of a wound.
"I said 'nearly'! I don't like that horse of yours none, monsieur. She's crazy! She has eyes like my wife!"

Leaning back and propping his elbows against the railing, the man in the green coat thought for a second and chimed, "Well, how fast if your wife? Perhaps I'll ride her instead."

Momentarily perplexed, the deckhand wisely chose to laugh it off instead of getting angry. Lesser men would have been dead. "You have a quick tongue, monsieur. Tell me, where are you headed? Back home maybe? Wherever that accent came from?"

"Never had a home and you're the one with the accent, my friend. No... not home, just the place with the best beer in the world." The man turned his head and squinted his eyes into the distance as if he could make out the southern continent from five hundred miles over the ocean. He wore a black bandana low over his brow; it made his green eyes all the more piercing.

The deckhand, meanwhile, only rubbed his hand across his sweaty balding head and considered what sort of beer was so good that you'd sail across the world.

Kasanip

2010-08-16, 05:18 AM

Garadiel frowned and tears slipped down his face, but with his conversation with his father so fresh in his mind, Garadiel knew there was always a time for turning into a new life, that such a loss as this one would not be permanent. He nodded to his sister and smiled before he gestured for the woman to come to him. When she did, Garadiel grabbed her in a bear hug and held her there for a few moments. Then he let the woman go and sent her on her way, so she leaves deeply confused by the God of Life and Death's strange actions.

There in Garadiel's hand is the last remaining living portion of Raia and, removed from a body, it ultimately flickers to dead. Garadiel could have preserved it, but that wouldn't do. His sister had made her choice. He smiled and passed the now dead spirit to Raia. He looks at her and wrapped her gingerly in his arms and they are again in the Underworld. The dreary wastes, specifically, I love you Raia, Garadiel says and his voice is in her heart like fire, like thundering and whispering.

Fire that burns the sun to ashes is not as hot and the hearth fire of a family is not as comfortable, the inevitable coming of sunrise is not so sure, Calantha and Shen Shi Zhu had never known a secret so completely, this is Garadiel's love for Raia.

In the far east is the Storm of Souls, he says by way of explanation, and Raia knows that the Storm of Souls is the gateway into the living world and she knows precisely which direction she needs to go. We can run together, one last time, if you wish Garadiel says, sadness tinging it.

Raia and Garadiel : Run, Run, Run (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wBLjEuhmCAc)
(to finish of last turn)

Garadiel's words burned deep. Hot, full... this was the pain and sorrow that only love could bring. And as the fire filled her and her heart, the tears threatened her eyes again, but Raia choked them down and held Garadiel in her arms again.

"I love you Garadiel. And I always will." She whispered back, fighting herself for her voice.

And then she stepped back, still holding his hand. She looked to the East and the wind caught her hair for a moment. And she looked back and smiled at him. A smile hiding pain, but a confident smile. A loving smile.

"Then let us go Together.

One more time.

Winner takes all." She said, a hint of forced amusement in her voice. And then she pulled on Garadiel's arm and started to run.

A world full of so many different things. A step here across the fresh smell of earth in the morning after rain. the cool fragrance of the north wind. There, the leaves of gold and red, but yet the purple and white of the wisteria hanging gently. Voices that spoke of stories and emotions she had barely known.

There was so much life here. So much hope. She would come back, and experience it all again.

Raia breathed hard as she ran. Hold nothing back. Tears, anger, sadness, all of it she would outrun as she chased Garadiel. Because one thing she wanted to hold onto was Love.

Because maybe.

Maybe if she could catch him here,

Surely then, it would not slip away once she had continued on.

Jair Barik

2010-08-16, 06:12 AM

In a place beyond the wooded shores there stands the red wolf. And for once he is not alone. Accompanied by twenty men of questionable morale fibre he and Kylfa sit upon a throne of uncarved stone.

"We have called you all here for one reason and one reason only. You desire what all men desire, yet unlike some you are not held back by petty morality. You are willing to have stripped away all that makes you human, to gain power through any cost. And we, are willing to supply it."
"Pay the piper, pay the wolf, nought is free in freedoms book!"
"I was just getting to that point Kylfa, no need to rush. You see no power comes without cost and the cost of this power is very special. You see not long ago the world almost ended, all because the Gods were too busy cowering in fear or talking about what must be done to actually act! Now not one to let the same mistake happen twice (and with the passage west now open and free) I have decided there is a little snake in the grass that needs addressing before it is too late... So heres the deal, I give you power and in exchange you become my seekers and find that which I am looking for. Sound fair?"

Every one of the twenty heads nodded greedily, the promise of power too great for them to resist.

"Good.... In that case.... let the census, begin!"

1 minor act create- 20 seekers of the Red Wolf

Carden

2010-08-16, 01:53 PM

It had been a few days since his father had died. Eridi still felt pangs of guilt, he had, after all, allowed the situation to decline so much as to draw his father in. He knew it was a foolish line of thinking, but he couldn't stop it from playing out. That's why he had returned here, not to Hyb, but to the town of his birth on the southern edge of Iuvenis. Gadlin, it had once been called. A fishing town nestled into a natural bay, perfect for a small town, but increasingly limited as it had grown over the centuries. The godling wasn't surprised the dock had grown, reaching into the deeper waters for larger ships.

The outer roads had been unfamiliar to him, but as he got closer to the inner city it came back into focus. Even though buildings had changed, the pathways were the same. Cobbled now, but still no different than when he had been a child. Yes, the city had prospered since then, all except for the area around which he was most familiar. Where his house had been there was only a barren plot of land, devoid of any form of life.

Seeing a child nearby, he called her over. The young were always the most free with knowledge, giving and taking as their curious minds demand. "Young miss, tell me, why's there nothing on this land here? No building, no trees, nothing?"

From the startled gaze she gave him, it was obvious it was common knowledge around here. "That was where the witch lived, mister. Moma said that the night they got rid of her, she cursed it and everything there turned into monsters. Then, to make sure it didn't happen all over again, they burnt it all and said, 'No one lives here anymore!' Moma said if I wasn't good, the ground itself would come up and get me for the witch." Giving the girl a heavy gold coin, he pat her on the head and sent her on home. Had she not been distracted by the treasure he had imparted on her, she probably would've noticed the tears in his eyes. So that's what they had used to justify it, a story of a witch. Moving about town half-heartedly, he rented a boat for a few days and a room at the local inn for a night.

When the people woke the next day, they found Eridi gone and a small wonder in the center of their town. Where the barren land once was there was now a house made of rare metals. Written above the door none could open was a simple phrase, "Greed is sin." No one would ever think to bother or steal from this wonder, appearing overnight on cursed land. More to add to what they told their children, more for their superstitions.

Eridi & Garadiel - Seven Years Later

It had taken a full year for Eridi to return to Hyb, but once he did he had locked himself in his home for weeks on end. The people had lost their newly energetic god to the one in a torpor that their grandparents had spoken of. It did not stop the town's growth, their size and influence constantly growing, accommodating, and changing, but it was disheartening to those who had grown up here to know, even if he tried to hide it by hiding himself, that Eridi hurt as he did.

Then came a night when a knock bothered him. Few people dared that in this day and age, Aria had seen to it that all knew to speak to her if they needed something from the craftsman, and she didn't knock. Looking up from his drink, his own brew, he noticed immediately who it was. Not in the mood for a fight, he calmly answered the door. "Why are you here, Garadiel? Speak."

From what his brother could see, Eridi's home was more of a wreck than usual. Paper and books lay everywhere with myriad trinkets sitting on top, each looking like it was being treated as a failure of some experiment. They were not made of cheap metals, either. If they were indeed failures, they were incredibly expensive failures.

White Blade

2010-08-16, 04:27 PM

The Herald and The Smith
Garadiel raised an eyebrow at the command, almost amused. He didn't laugh though. His face is grim and Eridi wonders what grim message the Herald brings, Father said, the words of Garadiel's father echo deep, deep into Eridi's heart, to be known and remembered as Garadiel remembers them and knows them "Eridi must discover how the world is bound. And when the cycle comes around again, you must stop the eternal dreamer again as the rite of passage. Do not let the world fall into decay, do not let it expand into ruin. Do not forget that you are divine, do not forget that you were once mortal. And make this world shine, that those that come after might remember it." The dream-memory falls away and Garadiel stands grimly I am sorry for the wait, Garadiel finished politely, he really does seem to regret it.

Brother and Sister: To The Edge
Rognir's daughter and son tear off, racing across the land like gazelle. The sleep of the dreary waste cannot hold either, as their feet pound gray earth. They reach the river of dispassion and Raia clears it in one jump and is in the land of satisfaction. Thud, Garadiel is behind her, she has to hurry. Feet pound past fruitless trees and souls.

They are in awe, as the goddess rushes past. Feet grind earth and Garadiel is in the lead, but not for long. The Goddess who wrestled thunder and lightning is swift as them tonight. She takes the lead, outstripping Garadiel in his own land and Garadiel grins. It has been too long! He thinks as the underworld's wind whips his face.

The mountain now. The road is hard and Raia must be careful even in her haste. Cliff-faces and the beasts of Rognir's making are angry now, here for the blood of their maker's children. But they have made a crucial mistake and Raia rends them with ease. The race is all, and Garadiel falls behind again, for he waited for Raia to finish (as is only fair) but he hesitated too long when Raia took off again.

She reaches the plateau and knows the location of the storm that sets loose souls on the world. She reaches the edge and Garadiel is on her heels. The jump is short and Garadiel arrives behind her. She need only clear the cliff and make the last leap. Garadiel smiles and wishes her luck, even as he draws close.

hi-mi-tsu

2010-08-16, 07:06 PM

In the north of the world, east of Elmdore Vale and west of the Sanctum of Delirium, there lies a city created by a mad goddess. It stands in the midst of an ever-green field, that knows only the most mild shifting of seasons; rain falls only at night, and the weather is what most would describe as "idyllic". Erimere is its name, and in the past seven years it has become a haven to dreamers (and Dreamers), to artists, to musicians and poets; smaller, but no less important, are those who wish to study philosophy, or the riddles of Calantha's mind.

The city of Erimere is tended to by the Fae, the mysterious (or not-so) beings that were its first inhabitants; they, and the priests, are the cultivators of the exotic spices and drugs that find their way to far-flung markets through Calantha's connection to her brother's dracliers. She has an arrangement, with the god of Fear; his men ferry her spices with their goods, and in return he takes fifteen percent of the profit. They have become famed, both spices and drugs; the spices for their richness, for their ability to evoke every emotion from passionate lust--used in aphrodisiacs and sometimes in chocolate--to the deep, abiding grief that is seen in the black, star-shaped flowers of the lethas plant, sold to mourners observing the rituals of burial. The drugs, though occasionally outlawed or at the very least heavily-taxed, have nevertheless found their niches as well; the eye-opening saleta, used by mystics and those who wish to see beyond, a powdered drug of such a violent purple that one would think it deadly. Then there is the soporific vetives, that puts those who use the deep purple mushroom in a state of near-trance; there are unconfirmed reports of users being put into so deep a sleep that they never recover, but there's been no proof. And the rainbow-colored blossoms of the pathas plant, that which takes you inside and outside of yourself, which makes you see the world; that plant is outlawed in every civilized city, but still somehow makes its way to market.

At the edge of Erimere there stands a curiously-shaped building, one that is a dome with a large hole in the top; sticking out of the hole is a long, slender sphere, with a slightly-curved pane of glass in the top of it. It allows Calantha to see to the stars, at night, and beside it is a journal that never runs out of pages and a pen that never runs out of ink and writes without a person present, recording the stars, their motions, their changes.

The goddess has changed, in the past seven years; the light of her eyes is madness always, rarely checked except within the presence of her nephew. Rarely does she walk amongst the people of her city; when she does, there are some that say the universe is in the fabric of her dress, and some that say she is beautiful, and some that say she is terrible. And there are some who, after receiving the personal attentions of the goddess, her cryptic words--or clarity--her gifts of obscurity or brilliance, go mad...and some who take what they have been given and become men and women of the Path, tracing clarity through the madness they have seen.

Today is not a day of wandering through the city, or of spending her time in the halls of her temple. No, today Delirium, the Mad Goddess, patron of Erimere, is sitting at a desk of ivory next to her telescope, poring over the writings of the journal.

"Lucien!" Her nephew, the only one--besides her brother--she softens for. The one who has stayed with her, to study the stars.

"Lucien!"

They are changing. The Warrior is receding, the Wolf growing; what could it mean, when the Dreamer's followers are becoming brighter? What does it mean, when stars that were old and familiar friends have blinked out, or changed altogether?

Was it time? Was it time to end them? Was it time to destroy the things that bound her fate to them with bands of iron and chains of ice? That bound her brother to death and decay, to be forgotten at the end of days?

A snap, and a broad-winged butterfly beats lazily above her hand. "Find him." For all her knowledge, Lucien understood the stars far better than she ever could...but she had been studying them for the past seven years, and every change was an important one.

(ACT EXPENDITURE
2 Minor Acts-Create Spices, Create Drugs
1 Minor Act-Increase Population of Erimere
1 Major Act-Create the Star Journal
The Star Journal is a compendium of every minute change, every shift, every cycling of the stars in the past seven years. It is comprised of two parts, the journal itself--which never runs out of pages and yet never seems to appear any thicker--and the pen, which is supplied with an unending source of ink. It is there to keep a record both when Calantha is observing and when she is not; it catches things she may miss, or forget, so that if she needs to she can go back to the details later.

4 Minor, 5 Major, 3 Ceremonies remaining)

ArlEammon

2010-08-16, 07:52 PM

Shen Zhi Shu

Shen Zhi Shu looked through the world in his mystical sight, he saw the ruins that still lingered through the last wars. He wondered what he would do. He turned to the source of the conflict, remembering Kylfa-Madur and he who killed Pan-Lung. Shen Zhi looked into himself and thought of what he would do. He gathered energy inside of himself, mystically strengthening himself, putting a strain on himself, he practiced the art of magically controlling energy for many hours. He emerged more powerful through this ever before.

1 Major Act to increase Magic domain

However, through all his excersizes he realized that it would be best if he would share his arts with the world. Before Shen Zhi would leave Zhang Guo in Ruah and Himiko/Chei's hands, he would teach the people an alternative to Evocation spells. Through his knowledge of the laws of the universe, Shen Zhi Shu had taught the people the Magic of Enchantment. Enchantment, subtley working the laws of universe in one's favor, this new form of magic would allow the use of magic to change others. In other words, making things more effective.

2 Major acts to teach Enchantment to the people

The_Snark

2010-08-17, 04:52 AM

7 Years Ago

All is dark and still in the tower at the end of the world. Lilike kneels on the cold stone, head bowed, her face unveiled to greet the night.

It has been a day of loss, and she is glad to see its end as the sun slips below the horizon. She cannot say how, but she feels that her old life is gone, slipped away forever. Why? Surely she could return to her mother's cottage to sleep beneath her roof, safe and hidden. Surely she could learn again at her father's feet once he returned. There is no reason these things should not happen.

But in her heart she knows they never will. Something changed today—how long it seems since this morning! Her father's sudden flight. The coming of the god Garadiel, terrible and glorious and somehow frail at the same time. Long hours trapped in a twisted wooden prison, waiting for the sun to set, and unexpected salvation at noon. All these things were terrible, and might have undone lesser folk, but most dreadful of all were the twin wounds her uncle had dealt to her. Oh, he had never touched her, save when her knife parted his flesh, but his words pierced to her heart as surely as an arrow.

It does not seem fair, to have to feel sorrow for one she never knew. Her father held that Rognir was a demon, so twisted as to have lost the right to be called man, much less grandfather. But what demon could have inspired the love and grief she had heard in Garadiel's speech? With four words, she had known the love of a child for a loving father. With three more, she felt what it was like to lose that father. It is not fair at all, and it hurts her terribly, but she clings to that pain, keeping it close to her heart. She might never feel its like again.

That is what she tells herself, again and again, as the night wears on and Kylfa-Madur does not return on the eastern winds. Cold wears at her. Hunger gnaws at her stomach, thirst sucks greedily at her mouth and lips until both are parched and cracked. Her hand sends raw waves of pain up through her arm, for when the Bird with Eight Wings saw its new master fall it had flown at her in a rage, and burned her hand terribly before she drove it off. These things she endures, not gladly but unwilling to do otherwise. It is a penance, she tells herself, for the betrayal she had tried to commit.

These pains are almost welcome, for they distract her from the worst one of all. Dread lies heavy on her heart, for the night is no longer young, and Kylfa-Madur still does not come. All her instinct tells her that he will never return from that ill-fated venture East, and with every hour that passes she grows less and less able to deny it.

When dawn arrives at last, Lilike weeps.

TheDarkDM

2010-08-17, 05:44 AM

Seven Years Ago

Faolan gasped when Eridi raised the mausoleum beneath the World Tree, so beautiful and perfect was the construction. It seemed, for the moment, as though the duties of the children of Rognir had been attended to, yet even so the shadow of doubt lay over Faolan's heart. Setting the spear of Rognir into the loamy soil, Faolan began to stand vigil over the Tomb, slipping once again into his dark reveries. When Eridi and Ganrei took their leave, he uttered not a word, simply giving each a nod that nevertheless held within it a wealth of gratitude. For seven days Faolan watched over the ivory Tomb, until life began to creep back into the spaces blighted by Kylfa-Madur, and he knew that they had truly been successful. Yet Faolan had heard the drums at the edge of the world, and knew that the God Kings were the least of the foes arrayed against him and his family. Hefting the spear of Rognir in a hand filled with renewed strength, Faolan turned from the Tomb to gaze east, towards the horizon he had visited once before. With a sigh of acceptance, he leapt upon the Ship of Rognir, still moored upon the island of the World Tree, and set a course back towards the house of the All Father.

Time lost all meaning as Faolan sailed through the mists of the trackless seas, guided only by the storm clouds hanging far to the east. The seas that had been calm on his first journey to visit Rognir had become violent and treacherous, the very fabric of the world crying out at the death of its creator. Mountainous waves and whirlpools that dwarfed islands blocked Faolan's way, but the ship of Rognir had been built to withstand far graver punishment, and he passed safely. Days or years after setting sail from the World Tree, Faolan found himself beneath a black sky, pelted by freezing rain, and knew that he was close to his goal. Sailing blindly through the grief of the skies, Faolan was flung from the wheel when the ship struck the island of Rognir's house, and as Faolan looked up, he saw the House illuminated in a flash of lightning. No light burned in the many windows, no smoke rose from the hundred hearths. Where once the strength of Rognir had maintained this place, now it was home to naught but history, haunted by the slowly fading memory of the greatest of the gods.

Faolan climbed the rain-slick path to Rognir's door, groping for purchase with his grandfather's spear. Sooner than he would have liked though, the door to the House loomed before him, grim and dark. For a moment, Faolan knew that terrible things lurked behind that door, things that only Rognir had been able to keep in check. Who was he to trespass upon the home of the All Father, not even his issue but a grandchild. Better to leave the discovery of what lay beyond to someone wiser, someone older. Faolan glanced around futilely, searching for another member of his family to take up this burden. But Faolan's desperate search yielded naught but darkness, and the patter of rain upon stone. Faolan longed to leave this dying place, but he knew that the secrets to the world's survival, the secrets to halting the drums beyond the world, would be within if they were anywhere. The past disaster had shown him how fractured the divine family was, and even deeper than his desire to leave Faolan felt his duty to uncover what he could. Thus, with a heavy heart, Faolan pushed open the door to Rognir's home, and went searching of the secrets of a dead god.

Kasanip

2010-08-17, 06:05 AM

Brother and Sister: To The Edge
Rognir's daughter and son tear off, racing across the land like gazelle. The sleep of the dreary waste cannot hold either, as their feet pound gray earth. They reach the river of dispassion and Raia clears it in one jump and is in the land of satisfaction. Thud, Garadiel is behind her, she has to hurry. Feet pound past fruitless trees and souls.

They are in awe, as the goddess rushes past. Feet grind earth and Garadiel is in the lead, but not for long. The Goddess who wrestled thunder and lightning is swift as them tonight. She takes the lead, outstripping Garadiel in his own land and Garadiel grins. It has been too long! He thinks as the underworld's wind whips his face.

The mountain now. The road is hard and Raia must be careful even in her haste. Cliff-faces and the beasts of Rognir's making are angry now, here for the blood of their maker's children. But they have made a crucial mistake and Raia rends them with ease. The race is all, and Garadiel falls behind again, for he waited for Raia to finish (as is only fair) but he hesitated too long when Raia took off again.

She reaches the plateau and knows the location of the storm that sets loose souls on the world. She reaches the edge and Garadiel is on her heels. The jump is short and Garadiel arrives behind her. She need only clear the cliff and make the last leap. Garadiel smiles and wishes her luck, even as he draws close.

Brother and Sister: To the Edge (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H0P_c_FXpBw)

Sandaled feet pound as God and Goddess alike run to the finish. A sheer smile of joy is painted upon Raia's face and she grins even as she breathes harder than she ever has. Her legs scream. Her lungs ache. Her heart cries out. So close- the finish is so close. The pain, the sorrow, all of it has been long left behind. Ahead, the storm of souls, and behind, her brother.

The wind of the storm sends her hair fluttering about, and tears at her eyes and face, but even at that point she approaches the edge of the cliff.

Will she ever see him again?
Will they ever be together like this once more?
Even these thoughts and worries she locked away and threw to the wind as they ran. This path only leads forward.

Heart drumming, eyes burning, Raia ran towards the edge of the cliff and slammed her feet into the ground. Skidding with a screeching sound of lightning, she slowed so she could turn to see Garadiel.
Ah, but now he was almost on top of her, and she reached back to tag his hand with her own. In that fleeting last touch, a thousand memories, worries, and precious feelings sent in an earnest gesture. And she looked into his eyes in that fleeting second.

"Farewell, Garadiel. Thank you for everything. I love you. Be safe!" She said in words that Garadiel could feel and see, and that echoed in his heart. Though the words weren't spoken, they were clear and true.

And then, she turned forward into the storm. And without stopping, she pressed off of the very edge and leaped forward, a step of boundless energy and determination, and disappeared into the storm.

Act:

1 Major Act: Create Artifact "Raia's Smile"- The smile of a sister who is free from burdens long carried; the smile of a loved one who looks with admiration; the smile of someone whose determination overcomes any boundary. This is the Hope and Conviction that Raia gave freely to Garadiel at the Storm of Souls. May his heart be protected from grief and defended with a blade forged and wielded with the warmth of sisterly love.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-17, 04:46 PM

Seven years later
Southern continent

The woman, a monk originating from Zhang Guo, had been following the road from Shale for some time now, armed only with a walking stick craved with words of wisdom from Shen Zhi Shu. The climate of Negeb, the exotic lands of the divine smith and the late goddess of memories, was as harsh as they say, especially as you went further away from the Hybil'smita Grasslands. Now she wiped the sweat from her forehead and looked to the horizon. Finally, she had reached the base of the ancient, dusty mountain range nested between Airter's Kingdom, the Kaldori Plains and the Emirates of Storms in the Great Desert. And up there on a plateau, where three major mountain paths met on the shore of Lake Everness, was her destination: the Hall of Dawn.

After the climb was over, the woman gazed at a great villa built of bright red stone. Towers seemed to grow from the cliffside; atop them flew a strange flag, a chimera on a background of white and red flames. Later she would understood it to represent the alliance of the four continents. Opposite to the keep of the Grey Watch, Caer Faol, located in the distant North, stood this monument to the strength and hopes of Humanity. If Caer Faol was a refuge and a fortress, the Hall of Dawn (or Shachar Hall as the locals called it) was primarily a gathering place for adventurers, heroes and free-spirited Men, placed under the banner of the good lord Celestan - who was very much not a lord, in truth. Travellers passing by were free to stay at the villa - never would Celestan's followers deny help to their fellow Man - as long as they didn't bring their feuds with them, and left their weapons under lock and key for their time there. Even though Celestan was known for his pacifist views, it was possible to train in a specially devised area of the inner court, next to magnificent gardens where others meditated. Braziers found all around the Hall were kept lit day and night, as was fitting for a god of Fire. At least once a week, though, an immense bonfire was lit just outside the limits of the mansion, and a feast was served to all those present, immediately followed by dancing and rejoicing, simply to celebrate life.

Thanking the guards for their helpful information, the woman headed for the western wing of the villa, known as Cardinal Wing, where she hoped to find a new life for herself. There, she knew, were trained the most competent combat medics of the land. The members of the Healers' Guild were also called Cardinals because of their cardinal red outfits, complete with cloaks decorated with bright feathers. Since Celestan's demonstration of power before the gates of Hyb, many men and women had sought to join him in order to help lessen the suffering of humankind. And in the few years since the Order's formation, the Cardinal Healers had become much renowned. Where the druids of Nara spread their knowledge of herbal medicine and sought to restore harmony and balance, fighting corruption of the wildlands, the healers of the Pure Bright Flame lived in communities, big and small, seeking to better understand the hardships of Men everywhere; they also earned a reputation of excellent battle medics, because even as pacifists, they realized how needed they were in the heart of the action during periods of conflict.

The monk drew a big breath and pushed the door of the Cardinal Wing. On the other side was a quite surprising sight. A young woman in skimpy clothing, with auburn hair and green eyes welcomed her in. Two feathered wings emerged from her back. The girl didn't say a word; she simply smiled, took the monk's hand and walked her to the recruiting officier. This winged beauty, she would later hear, was named Sun. Some swore she was born on the day Celestan first came to Hybil'smita, but that's impossible, she thought; then she would only be seven years old. Whatever the truth about her origins, Sun seemed to not care at all about it, or anything that was said about her behind her back; she had no concerns in the world...

2 minor acts to create and enhance the Hall of Dawn in central Negeb

P.s.: The second sun has long since vanished.

--------------------

Celestan himself had watched the monk cross the inner court from his window. He sensed a great determination in her heart and soul, and so he was pleased. As she disappeared into the Hall, the god of fire and hope turned his gaze to the book on his desk; he had taken out this book from a chest many months ago, but it had been left untouched, as if Celestan didn't quite know what to do with it. Then, he walked closer and brushed his fingers against the leather surface. There was a sigil of a many-branched Tree printed on its cover.

TheDarkDM

2010-08-17, 06:07 PM

Seven Years Ago

Eithne followed Calantha into her temple, passing soundlessly through the diaphanous curtains lining the doorways, a shadow of the Goddess of Delirium. Sitting across from her, Eithne watches Calantha breathe deeply from the pipe at the center of the room, and when it is passed to her Eithne follows suit. As the burning essence of clarity flooded her lungs, Eithne's eyes were held by Calantha's own, burning brightly with the power of her madness. Slowly, the room faded, until all that was left were those two stars, their steady light illuminating Eithne's face, and she fell, tumbling slowly through the void between consciousness and dream. Where Calantha saw stars, Eithne's darkness was slowly dominated by a single shining sphere. The moon floated above her, following her sinking path, filling her vision with its luminous glow. The light cradled her, caressed her, until she was no longer falling but was instead floating on a lake of mist. Slowly, the moon began to change, moving through its phases, until darkness fell again. The mist holding Eithne grew cold, and damp, and where in the light she had been filled with contentment, now she was filled with rage. Claws of fog wrapped around Eithne's hands, and soon she was clad in a terrible suit of wispy anger. Her mind filled with images of battle, of slaughter, and the rage of the Beast was rekindled in her heart. Then the cycle began again, and the moon's light shined down again. Faster and faster the phases came, rage mixing with happiness, slaughter with peace, darkness with light, and the fractured pieces of Eithne's soul merged together into a new whole.

The Present Day

For seven years, Eithne had served Calantha, following the steadily more unbalanced goddess as she delved into her research of the stars. Clad now in purple silk instead of furs and leather, Eithne rarely spoke, only doing so in rare circumstances that yielded an uncommon piece of wisdom. Having sampled the manifold pleasures of Erimere, she seemed almost ot have forgotten her decades of service to the Grey Watch, her undying oath to her foster father Faolan. But hidden in the sash of her silks remained a ell honed blade, and when roused to anger her eyes would still flash with the terrible power of her bloodline. Eithne had seen little of Lucien, hiding herself away whenever he would visit Calantha, but on this day that the Lady of Madness called for her nephew, Eithne stayed, sitting beside her mistress, lilac eyes shining with the knowledge that now was the time to reenter the affairs of the world.

Nefarion Xid

2010-08-17, 08:23 PM

Seven years hadn't passed idly for Aldric. He moved now seen, but unnoticed, among the throngs of Hybil'smita; a tall man among tall people, exotic in dress where fashion was coined and all things exotic came to mingle. The bright brass buttons and high collar on his stately coat, along with the estoc at his side would have marked him as a northerner for sure, in years past. Now such things were common place, along with his accent (decidedly neutral) and fair skin. Little remained of his former countenance spare his swagger and toothy grin. Shadows stayed where they should around him and he stayed where he ought as well. All told, he looked to be synchronized with the world once more. Only his mother or Calantha could have recognized him in this state, this contented nonchalance. But, none would remember his face. A powerful enchantment from Lucien's grimoire would see to that. If his siblings laid eyes on him they would feel only a haunting, but short lived sense of deja vu as the memory of their brother's face was drained from their minds. He would remain a stranger until he gave it back.

Along the road from the city gates to Eridi's house, he paused thrice. Once to have a pint and again to sample tobacco from the west. For a myriad economic reasons, cigarettes were hard to come by in the north. Aldric didn't much care or understand why; the minutiae of international trade bored him terribly... but he was very glad for a taste of an old luxury. Lastly, he purchased a vial of clove oil. Sickly sweet at first, one grew accustomed to the aroma and then immune to its intoxicating effects. For the first time in many long years he smelled his old cologne and worked a dot of the oil into his hair before continuing on towards Eridi's place.

He arrived to spy his host and Garadiel in conversation. His heart leapt up into his throat and his foot froze for a moment in mid stride. Exhaling sharply he took a few more steps towards the house, sure of his disguise, both blind and cloaked to divinity. He thought that perhaps he ought to return his brother's sword... and leave it lodged in his heart. Then again, he might drop his cigarette. Later, he decided. If he still wanted revenge, he'd kill him later. It wouldn't very well do to blow his cover right away.

At the gate he tarried and waited for the master to acknowledge him. Sure it was late in the night and he seemed a stranger, but his brother was a peerless host and Aldric had already guessed that sleep was increasingly hard for his brother to come by.

Erimere Observatory

"My lady..." Lucien began, unfailingly polite, as he strode from the double door with a diminutive black book in hand. Inordinately polite. He was master of Elmdore Castle now in his father's absence though he saw to few of the affairs personally. Many offices and titles were his for the taking if he chose. He was peerless among his people in arcana and riding and so with regularity he had to calmly refuse the position of Draclier Commander. At court, there was talk of uniting the confederated kingdoms into a single empire under the rule of Pays d'Elmdore... but it yet remained a kingdom with no one ruler. Even as a country had sprung up around Aldric's castle, he'd officially announced himself as king. He didn't much care how things got done as long as they did. Lucien was happy to carry on the tradition. His sister, Celestine entertained the idea of becoming queen after their mother had passed, but finally rejected it on the grounds that it would be far too much work.

He wore his father's clothes now, perhaps better than Aldric ever did. A fine, trim navy coat was now adorned with numerous gypsy trinkets. The star charms were always there, jangling on top of his blue head scarf tied over his long silver hair. Everything about him: blue and silver. He'd lost father's beautiful green eyes sometime ago. He couldn't say when. To catch his gaze was to know he had seen too much and he bore the mark of forbidden knowledge entombed.

Placing the black book on a mostly empty space, it sprang to its normal size, growing to a immense size and causing the old table to creak. With an absent gesture from Lucien, the book riffles through its own pages until it arrives at the entry it expects he'll be needing momentarily.

After a hug and kiss for his aunt, he finally notice Eithne and looks abashed for an instant. Failing to seize upon something more charming or at least appropriate, he defaulted to smiling and nodding politely. Though a greater mage than his father ever was, he had never mastered the art of speaking to women.

-1 Major Act: Aldric's Disguise! (Either a new ability or just a powerful spell. Up to Raz.)

White Blade

2010-08-17, 08:59 PM

Garadiel waves farewell to his sister and she vanishes into the storm. He considers giving chase, but does not. His sister will be reborn and happy. Now, Garadiel speaks once more into his siblings heart, this time just as proud, Raia lives again! Happiness and sadness, joy and sorrow, for Raia has left the family of the gods, at least for a little while. He picks up his cowl and hides his face. His brothers and sister may not see him for awhile, he knows, for he goes to seek the hand of the young woman in whose arms he found comfort from his grief as he resurrected his father.

Verdant
It hadn't been long since his father left, all things considered, but Verdant was not a quiet boy by any stretch. He'd already managed to chop down a tree beside one of the Hulder.... One of the more senseless Hulder who had decided that Verdant was more than competent to handle a large, heavy axe without injury to himself. He had been chewed out by Laughter, the boy's mother, and the Elder had only laughed at him when he complained. Of course, Verdant DIDN'T hurt himself. But that was beside the point.

Now he sat in his house with his mother, who was chopping up one of the exotic fruits of the island for a salad to go with the fish. It was always fish here in the Greenmaw Isles. Even Westerly had had food other then fish, but here? No. Verdant loved talking to his mother, because she could tell him lots of things his father wouldn't. Yes, his father could talk but it was dangerous, Garadiel counseled, so Verdant kept his head and didn't ask too many questions. Today he wanted to know about his aunts and uncles, "Mama, what are my aunts and uncles like?"

Laughter thought for a moment as she diced fruit before replying, "I haven't met your aunts and uncles, Verdant. But your father says they are good people,"

"Why don't we know any of them then?" Verdant asked curiously, trying to pry into the secrets of his father.
"Your father hid us from them, because he thought they attracted a lot of danger," Laughter replied.
"I wanna meet Uncle Aldric!" Verdant said excitedly, "He sounds really cool."

Laughter winced unconsciously, remembering the first time she had heard Garadiel utter his brother's name, twisted with fear and distrust. He had worked it out, in the end, but Garadiel had been deeply broken in that relationship. Aldric, Verdant and Laughter knew, was trusted with the most precious thing to Rognir's heart by the All-Father himself. Aldric had been blessed to protect Rognir's sons and daughters. Garadiel had spoken very highly of the event, and of the immenseness of the trust Rognir had placed in Garadiel's brother. Of course, Laughter herself was distrustful of all this. Just seven years before, her husband had lost no less than three siblings, and a decade or so before that he had lost his favorite sister. But there you were. "Your father thinks very highly of him," Laughter said at last, "But Uncle Aldric isn't safe company. He travels with Aunt Calantha."

Now Verdant looked nervous. It wasn't so much that he thought Aunt Calantha a bad woman, but that Aunt Calantha was just dangerous like a tornado was dangerous. Garadiel even seemed to fear her and thought she was too near to something terrible to be allowed near Verdant. At least, not yet. Verdant sighed, "I know, but I really wanna meet him!" Verdant said, in that anxious voice that all children use and most parents hate.

Luckily, Laughter had a lot of patience, "Perhaps you should meet some other members of the family first." Laughter said patiently, "Your Uncle Eridi or cousin Celestan seem like... safer first contacts from your family. Perhaps your father will ask Eridi back. He seemed to think it was possible, but I'm not making any promises."

Verdant sighed, "I just wish I could have met Aunt Sovennia or Raia..."

Laughter, it seemed, thought much the same, "Yes, so do I. But they moved on to their proper endings, so we have to accept that." Verdant looked down cast and then his mother put down a plate for him to eat, "Now eat all your fish and not just your fruits," she said politely. Verdant groaned. He was, after all, five.
1 Minor act to conceal Verdant and Laughter from the notice of other gods, barring them physically looking for them.

Carden

2010-08-17, 10:37 PM

The boat rocked slowly in the waves. It was a gentle rhythm, the type that soothed minds, not quite enough to contort one's stomach over. Here, Eridi felt at home. This felt like the way the earth moved beneath his feet, the way of nature, an ebb and flow, push and pull.

Eridi lamented the fact none of his siblings knew enough of water to teach him its ways, but he had to learn to tame the Leviathon, to claim his last token. Finally, after a day and a half's row from land, he decided enough was enough, and he had to learn somehow. Tying a rope to the leftover iron he had brought, he tied the other end to his belt. The water called out for understanding, and Eridi would oblige.

He was back where it had started, this second life of his, back to the part where Rognir had saved his and Alarin's lives. Eridi was sinking beneath sunny waves, gentle unlike the lightning and torchlit night his mother had been claimed. No, there was no Father to save him here, not any longer, no happy ending unless he made it himself.

Beneath the waves, Eridi felt helpless, guilt and sadness spreading through him as the current carried him where it would. He was a god and drowning would not kill him, but there was plenty here that could. After hours of despair, the truth finally came to him, but an unfair and harsh truth. This was the same ocean that had watched his mother die, had brought that fact to life even. This very water saw Rognir and his son in their deathmatch. It was there when Rognir slew A'gap, it would be there when the world ended. Where as mountains fight and quarrel with the earth beneath them, fires burn hot and fast, and air is indomitable, water is eternal.

The ocean watched the world be born, nourished plants and beasts, saw them die and left them where they lay. It even watched gods raised and gods fall. Wind, fire, and earth pretended to control and fought for it, but water just waited. Time flows ever onward, and the seas wait.

Now he knew the secret of the seas. Now Eridi could find Leviathon and be finished with this part of his duties.

Act Expenditure
1 Major Act- Gain Ability (Water Mastery)

Hybil'Smita - Replies

A sneer crossed Eridi's face. He knew that Garadiel's words were powerful, seemed to tell all the world the truths his brother understood. He also knew that each person had their own version of truth, but that didn't matter now. Garadiel had brought forth his father's tongue in that voice, brought afresh wounds long closed. "I know what Father set before me, Traitor. I know the price of my failure. I haven't been idle for seven years, I've been toiling. The elements that bind the four corners are mine, and soon, soon I will understand how they connect. See?" Picking up one of the nearby failures, he almost shoved it in his brother's face. A four-fingered gauntlet, made of a solid piece of emerald, carved in such a way as to seem flowing. Only the crash of it hitting the far wall and exploding into such verdant shards could shake the idea that it had, in fact, been moving.

Looking around, all of the trinkets seem to be gauntlets of similar design. A few seemed to have contorted and charred in unnatural ways and some seem to be unfinished, but it is obvious what Eridi has been doing for these past years. He had been busy making, refining, and documenting failures. "Leave me, Garadiel, leave me be. You've delivered your message, go back to whatever hole you climbed out of to give it, I have work to do."

Turning away, he stopped suddenly to speak an afterthought, "Never apologize to me again, Garadiel. You've committed only one sin I care about, and I cannot take her place in forgiving you. If she but speaks the word to me, I will stand beside her in exacting vengeance upon you. And tell that man at my gate that if he wishes to bother me, now's the time." Eridi continued walking away, sitting back down at his desk to work on his beer and latest designs. Now was no time for fighting, all peoples of this world should know that those who eat at its seams were more dangerous than anything. Eridi would figure out the binding of this world if it took him until it began to unravel around him.

hi-mi-tsu

2010-08-17, 11:30 PM

"Enough, enough of that!" Calantha suffers her nephew's affections for the briefest of moments, before pushing it away; she tugs him down to her book, then looksup, eyes catching Eithne's and burning.

"You! You too! Come here, come and look, looklook at this..."

She stabs one sharp, almost-bony finger at her book, then peers up at the two of them, then down at the book.

"They are changing, everything is changing, can you see--"

A pause--

"Raia lives again!"--

And the goddess's gaze grows dark and baleful, hands clenching the edges of her journal.

"Hate him, hate him in my head, hate when he uses his voice, that voice in my brain...but, butbutbut, Raia lives without the Warrior because the Warrior is receding!" Another stab at the pages, and she looks up at Lucien again.

"Is it time? Time for worlds to change, for those to leave, to make the stars collide and dance is it? He will fade, if I do, he thinks me evil..."

The goddess trails off, gnawing at the inside of her cheek as she gazes at the pages of the changing stars.

"Should I...find Aldric...?"

Jair Barik

2010-08-18, 04:55 AM

Blood.

Blood was the key.

Long had he researched without avail the secret to furthering his goals. How foolish of him to have not thought of the blood. By far one of the most ancient and crudest of magics the blood still held great power in both creation and destruction. Taking the knife and running it along his veins Nara held his arm out over the water from his boat. Far behind him lay Xiang Jian, far ahead lay the great house. As the first bloods turned the water red Nara took the seed from his robes and dropped it into the water. It was the largest he had yet tried but all previous ones had shrivelled and died at the ocean floor, incapable of growing. This time though... the nourishment should be sufficient.

It took awhile but Nara was patient. Slowly but surely the mountaintops breached the surface of the sea. Earth reaching up into the sky, land where there was none before. A mighty island just larger than Xiang Jian where before there was simply the empty expanse of the sea. A tropical island no less covered in strange plants never before seen outside of the realm of resplendant sun.

"Teleok." Nara named it looking upon its great mountains and dense jungles with pleasure. And now... its populace. Snagging a handful of winged insects from the air he crushed them in his palm and threw their remnants to the wind. Where their remains fell strange creatures grew, varied in shape and size but human at first glance with only the careful eye noting the subtle insectile features they each posessed. Wily they were, some quite cruel by nature (though this fact was not of Nara's making) and all with an innate knowledge of the Great forest and how to manipulate its twists and turns. The Telek they would be called.

North, South, East and West
Calling at the towns and villages of the world, even the western most continent they came. Strange men foreign in appearance riding white steeds. They seemed to come in peace to the different towns and villages and each bore the same message, spoken in the native tongue of the area.
"We come on behalf of the King in the East to collect a census of all those born in the last twelve years, that records of these dark times do not fade from the memory of the world over time and that the same mistakes are not made again."

2 MA raise the island of Teleok.
1 MA gain ability Life Giver
1 MA create the Telek
1 ma-Increase population of the fairfolk and the werewolves.

White Blade

2010-08-18, 08:07 AM

Garadiel is dumbstruck. He thinks for a moment, as if trying to contort his mind around Eridi's strange morality. His actions, induced by Calantha's blood curdling screams, had not been intended to kill her. Indeed, they couldn't. Garadiel didn't even know how to take a life now, so many decades later, but his brother had almost certainly been the one who had built a tomb and buried his father beside his killer. Was there absolutely any sense to a standard in which a man could bury his patricidal brother beside his father but couldn't forgive someone for attacking a sister who attacked them? Albeit, the attack was accidentally induced by the individual but wasn't this a bit.... Victim blaming?

Why? Why is it that my sin is worse than hers? I didn't possess my mind either and it was actually less painful and dangerous then what she did. Why is it that Ateris can be forgiven but I can't? I wasn't even trying to kill her. Garadiel says, not moving from the doorway, or sparing a glance at the mortal. Garadiel isn't just trying to insult his brother's morality, he is just deeply confused.

Kasanip

2010-08-18, 08:19 AM

Child who holds the Spirit Lamp: Nari's story

The refugees from Toukoku had started to settle into life at Caer Faol. It had been several years now, and many were reluctant to make the return trip to the emptiness they knew was there. There was no word back from the soldiers who had gone with Ya-un-Aramu, or any news from their homes.

And so many of the people began to try and move on with their lives. Some turned to Faolin, and some joined the Gray Watch. Nari recovered from her sickness, and now her mother tried to raise her in the Shiuk fashion. It was hard, on the mountain, so they would often go out and down to ride and do horse archery. Of the refugees, the Shiuk people held together the most, for they still had their unity of culture, though soon even this heritage became mixed with some of the customs of the City dwelling people of Caer Faol.

Seasons changed, and the wounds were closed. But in winter, the news had come at last.

Ya-un-Aramu was dead. Most of the soldiers who had left also had died valiantly in their fight against evil. Those behind were scattered and divided, and many had joined new kingdoms or returned to the Steppes.
But the death of Ya-un-Aramu threw the Shiuk refugees into despair. And the people of Shiuk and Toukoku at Caer Faol wept bitterly. They had lost their homes, their Goddess, and now their royal family, who had ruled for generations since the time of Ya-un-Kurumi.

In this aftermath, the refugees all began to change with the passage of time. They were the people of Toukoku and Shiuk, and their ways became intermixed. They had been together through great hardship, and so they had become their own tribe. With a prayer to both Raia and to Celestan and Faolin who was their guardian, they prayed for strength and unity, and so took the name Aptok-un-Shiuk: the Shiuk-Toukoku people, who identified with the sacred mountain. For Nari, it was a land she hadn't known, yet she yearned and desired to see it. Nari grew enraptured with the tales and stories of her people, and she dreamed dreams of times before, of great heroes and beautiful kingdoms.

As the seasons changed again, the Aptok-un-Shiuk reasserted their identity, and yet they became close and loyal friends to the Gray Watch, for they were still the people of Raia, and the men and women of the Gray Watch were strong in warrior ways. The spirit lantern of Celestan was their strength, for they did not abandon hope and desire to see their homes again. For the youth of the Aptok-un-Shiuk, they were raised in the ways of their people, but now also they had seen the great and beautiful fortress of Caer Faol, and many had friends and were known to these people as well. Many would go to serve a short time as allies to the Gray Watch. Of the children, perhaps the one most touched by the light of the spirit lamp, was Nari who was already well known for her charm and good nature. She was kind and had charisma, and seemed to make only friends- never enemies. So much that by the time she was 12 and the census had come, already there was some gossip about what she would do, or if she would be taken to a noble family.

But Nari yearned to travel and see the world- to see the plains of her heritage, and the land of her birth. And she was not alone with this dream, for it is the dream of any refugee, and to the Aptok-un-Shiuk. When she spoke earnestly, it seemed any other quarrel was trivial, and people who were ready to fight found themselves soon thinking of their homes far away, and like this, they were a family.
She was earnest in prayer to Celestan and Faolin, but most to Celestan, because she desired adventure, and dreamed passionate dreams. But like most children of the Aptok-un-Shiuk, she dreamed of a home she never knew.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-18, 11:22 AM

Celestan

Riding one of the fierce and (often thought) indomitable giant monitor lizards of the deep desert, Celestan went to meet one of the strange riders, the one who came to Hyb. He wore silver sleeveless shirt and pants, a belt, a torn red shawl covering his lower face, a bandana, also silver, to conceal his fiery hair, and a pair of gauntlets and gloves. The young god frowned at the sight of the rider.

"Who comes here upholding the sacred mission that was my mothers'? It is a noble quest indeed. I would like to learn more about that King in the East."

Jair Barik

2010-08-18, 11:29 AM

The rider looked over Celestan and brought his horse to a stop.

"The King in the East is young yet wise. He wishes to learn of the peoples of the world, of those born just before and just after these great horrrors of late. He thinks it important to making this census now, not just of the known lands, but of all the lands in the world. Perhaps you can help me in my task? I bear no ill purpose here and a man the people know and trust would be of great help in compiling these records, especially if, as you say, you are the son of a record keeper and chronicoler."

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-18, 11:37 AM

Celestan

The god nodded.

"Unfortunately I have other duties. I do have quite many friends spread around the world, who are in a perfect position to help you gather these informations... I have to insist, though, that I meet your king to discuss these matters. A young lord that has rises in the East, is a rare thing indeed. Do you have any way to contact him? He needs only to know that I'm Celestan of the Bright Flame. If you can't contact him easily, tell me where I can find him and I will go myself."

Jair Barik

2010-08-18, 11:48 AM

The man nodded and then gestured to the east.

"The king sits upon a throne of vines in the heart of the jungles of Teleok, the Eastern continent."

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-18, 11:54 AM

"Teleok", repeated Celestan. "I have never heard of that island before." The future is West. Why would a new lord dwell East?

"Thank you. I wish you luck in your entreprise."

Celestan left the rider's presence. When he was far away, he dismounted the beast and shot towards the Eastern Continent in a blaze of fire.

OOC: I have no idea how much time it would take for him to travel there`.

Jair Barik

2010-08-18, 11:57 AM

"And you also."

With that the man spurred his horse into a gallop and rode off to the next village, his scrolls and records strapped to his back.

Teleok
The new world... Not new in the sense of the furthest west, now open to those in the East after being shrouded in mystery for so long, but new in every sense of the word. Untouched by mortal hands, unblighted by the advancing technologies of the rest of the world. No houses, no villages, nothing as far as the eye can see bar great forests of tropival green. New, with the still lingering sent of divine creation, new as the world when it was first born. But not empty. Far from empty. The clutered trees and plant life covered the land, animals, birds and bugs filled it and the rivers were rife with fish and other aquatic fauna. But nothing truly intelligent. Except that is for the strange eyes that watched from the darkness. Strange laughter and the fluttering of wings unlike any other creature that walked the earth or flew through the skies. A certain darkness that pervaded the land, a sense of unease and uncertainty. The presence of the Telek.

ArlEammon

2010-08-18, 12:15 PM

Shen Zhi Shu Goes to Ling Wu

Shen Zhi Shu returns to Ling Wu, the devastated city, is now a small town, a large village really, because of the variety of disasters that have happened to it. Shen Zhi Shu saw the Mayor's modest estate ahead, walking towards it with the intent of befriending Qu Wu before he left for the sea. Shen Zhi Shu was soon there, in Qu Wu, knocking on the double doors.

Suddenly, Qu Wu enters,"Ah, Shen Zhi Shu, it is so wonderful to have the Pheonix in my humble house." He smiled. "Come in."

Shen Zhi Shu was glad to have returned to Ling Wu, he would make sure to make this visit an equitable one. "Wu, I think that we have a proper place for Ling Wu among the great City-States of Zhang Guo."

Qu Wu's eyes widened,"What do you mean, Shen Zhi Shu, how can we return to greatness?" Shen Zhi Shu smiled more sweetly, what he was about to say was going to blow Qu's mind away. "Qu Wu, every time I leave Zhang Guo, something horrible happens to Xiang Jian. I have been thinking about doing some remodeling to Zhang Guo before I travel the world. Ling Wu is a port town. If you would be so kind as to allow Himiko to annex Ling Wu, I will begin to unify Zhang through peaceful means.

Qu Wu looked very happy. "Yes, Shen Zhi Shu, I will gather the people and see what they say."
1 Minor act to add a former City state (Ling Wu) to Xiang Jian, by using the normal city building minor act

Shen Zhi Shu decided to introduce a gift to Qu Wu. Advice. "Qu Wu, I believe it is time for you to learn something. You are an intelligent and honorable man. It isn't, however, time for you to enter the Tournament as Blood Monk yet. I wish for you to be my student. Will you follow me to Xiang Jian and learn from me?" Qu Wu was aghast. .. "Yes Shen Zhi Shu." When the time had come, Shen Zhi Shu had taught Qu Wu a Ceremony to become something greater. Qu Wu was now a Lung Knight. The Lung Knights had the ability to transform their martial abilities with Evocation, oozing chi and eldritch energies together to form armor and weapons out of thin air.

1 Minor act to create a new class, the Lung Knight

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-18, 12:37 PM

Celestan

Celestan was a bit bothered by the humidity of this new land, and obviously the mysterious fairfolk who made their presence known, although they remained hidden to his eyes. The jungle must have marked him as an enemy first, as he possessed a great destructive potential, but it let him pass all the same once it became clear that his flames were as pure as his heart. With every step roots and vines turned to ashes; with every step new, more vigorous life bloomed in their place.

Celestan focused his senses to detect a spark of divinity in Teleok.

Jair Barik

2010-08-18, 12:41 PM

At the heart of the isle there sat a God in patient solitude and silence. Not hiding, simply waiting for something or for someone.

"Well you are not a tree nor an animal, nor a bird, nor a fish are you? Which means you must be an offshorer! How exciting!"

A small little creature with the appearance of a young human girl with butterfly wings had dropped out of a tree behind Celestan and walked about his person pointing at him with a stick.

"You are certainly not one of us! You are much too dull."

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-18, 01:00 PM

Celestan turned to face the newcomer, and shouted vigorously:

"Who the hell do you think I am?!"

For a time he said nothing, but he was unable to stop himself from chuckling.

"No, but seriously, I guess you have never met an outsider before. And dull, you say? You clearly don't know me, miss! allow me to show you what you've been missing!"

Celestan produced a chunk of obsidian, which glowed red hot and took the form of a tiny fey as he concentrated his powers on it. The young god handed it to the girl;`it had already cooled down.

"And look at that, miss!"

Celestan opened his other palm revealing a small burning seed. He threw it to the sky with all his might. When it reached a sufficient height, far away from the canopy, it exploded into a grand firework in the image of a weeping willow tree.

Jair Barik

2010-08-18, 01:05 PM

The little girl gasped.

"You broke that seed into nothing but colour! How pretty! Broken things are always the prettiest."

With some effort she snapped the little figure in half.

"And in the middle you can see the veins and lines of the stone. Such beauty in it isn't there. You can never really know how something works until you rip it apart and look at it up close can you? I wonder how you work? Why are you here mister? You haven't come to throw pebbles and melt rock have you? What do you want?"

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-18, 01:17 PM

Celestan

Celestan was still smiling as much, not disturbed at all by her willingness to rip him apart and see what's inside him.

"But to learn, miss! And experience by myself. What else? I wish to learn about the god that dwells here, but now that I've seen you, and this magnificent landscape as well obviously, I wish to learn how you live here. However that will have to wait a bit, 'til I have spoken with the King in the East. "

Jair Barik

2010-08-18, 01:24 PM

"The King of the East? hehe!" the little girl giggled at Celestan's words.

"We have no king! We do as we want and what we want! Each to his own as the land supplies all that we really need to survive. What use do we have for a King? Unless you mean Kylfa and his friend! They call themselves king but thats all a joke really! He laughs and hunts and kills from time to time as his birds come and go."

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-18, 01:37 PM

Celestan stepped back without thinking. Kylfa-Madur? Here? How? No, it must be a ruse.

"Oh, well, thanks miss. I will go meet with that "Kylfa"."

Celestan bowed to her and ran to the Throne of Vines in the central jungle.

Jair Barik

2010-08-18, 01:51 PM

Orgo was quite surprised when Celestan burst in on him. He had felt a God approaching but had not expected Celestan. He rose from his little perch in the trees and walked down past a few stacks of scrolls.

"Why hello there Celestan to what do we owe this pleasure?"

"Kill him before he kills us!" Orgo screeched the words out of the side of his mouth as he wagged his hand up and down inside Kylfa Madur's mask.

"Now now, Kylfa. Celestan is a part of our extended family. The apprentice of mistress Raia and the son of Sovvenia no less. He may have been your enemy before but whilst in my company you are to treat him with courtesy and respect you hear?"

"Grumble, grumble, curse, curse, bluh bluh."

"And none of your lip either!"

Carden

2010-08-18, 02:18 PM

The Leviathon was huge. Eridi suspected it was second only in size to A'gap, but that was almost unfair to judge. But here slept one of the great beasts, and for now, that was all the truth Eridi needed. He approached the beast, careful not to disturb its slumber.

The water muffled sounds, especially in these depths where light itself had trouble reaching, but the craftsman had recently learned that where sight and sound failed creatures of these depths, they made up for in other faculties. The way the current touched, the smell of approaching prey, anything to stay alive and hunt more efficiently. The Leviathon was no different, aligning itself to the current so that all smells reached its nose first. Eridi noticed this and approached from above. He would only have a short time before the beast awoke, and he had no idea how thick those scales were.

Arranging the iron around his hand, he descended quickly, meaning to cut a scale off in one fell swoop. Bashing his arm against the hardened scales, the iron cracked and broke off. He had been a fool to think that would work, and the way the body of the serpent spasmed, he knew he had lost his chance at surprise. Holding on to the beast tightly with his left arm, he created a jeweler's saw of water with his right and set to work.

Hours of bucking later, with an extremely tired left arm and a scale of the ancient beast, he emerged from the water a victor. Now, to head back home. He had his trinkets, it was time to find a unified theory of the elements. He had to understand the Aether.

Act Expenditure
1 Major Act - Create Artifact (Ring of Oceans)

Hyb - Explanations

Eridi nearly chocked on his beer. He doesn't understand, does he? Well, then, let's tell him! Composing himself and wiping the beer from his face, he spoke. "Garadiel, you threw a rock at a glass window and demanded it not break, now blaming it for the shards put in your hands for its failure to heed your insane edict. Your own word showed you knew how fragile our sister was, but you were determined to set her further into madness! With that one word, you damned what was left of her innocence like those abominations you created."

The answer for the second question was hard for Eridi to give. In seven years, he hadn't faced that issue himself. Why had he forgiven Ateris? "As for our brother, the reason I buried him there is simple. He's dead. There's nothing he can do to atone. Besides that, Father knew the price he would pay for venturing to that place just as the tree itself knew. And, had you been there to watch your father fall instead of wherever you were, you would've known the truth of that monument. It does not mean I forgive Ateris, it does not mean I love my father, even if both of those are true or false. That marble is there to remind the world what happens when people blind themselves to their own righteousness, denying their sins and guilt for 'the greater good.'"

A thought struck Eridi, strange as though it was. He finally turned back to face his brother. "Tell me your name, Garadiel, then speak the name of the god who killed Father while ever believing in his own righteousness. I wonder if you understand just how similar the two of you are."

Hyb - The Census

Foreign diplomats were always sent to the highest office of the requests they had. In this case, the request for a census was handled by the Wife's Guild, those women who brought the count higher. Thus they were taken to Aria, in the highest room of the guildhall. Strange, this room, with walls covered in maps of the city and trade routes, each marked a multitude of ways. She stood with her back to the door, looking out the large window set in the back. This was one of the few buildings where one could see over the inner walls of the city into the marketplace and the only guildhall large enough to watch the roads and savanna unfold over the outer wall. "So I hear you want to have a look at our census documents. You'll be happy to know, we document all living in this city that's married or has a child, records kept up to date from the moment the child's named."

Turning, she sat at her desk in the room. Only her posture denoted that she meant business by that, but she was practiced enough a blind man could've told that. "Now, tell me, tell me who you are, where you come from, what you wish to gain from this knowledge, and what we'll gain from you getting it. I've never heard of this island you claim, so feel free to point it out on one of our maps."

Jair Barik

2010-08-18, 02:34 PM

Hyb
The man smiled and pointed to a point on the northern continent of the map.
"That is where I am from. I am simply in the employ of the man who calls himself the King in the East. He comes from one of the greater eastern islands, I have not been there myself. My name is Broq. I do not know the reason for which the King wishes to collect these records but he deems it to be a mission of peace and unity. To 'prevent another Greenmaw catastrophe' as he put it. He is looking for some link in the records, which populations were hit hardest, who had been the most prosperous prior to the disasters of late. That kind of thing."

White Blade

2010-08-18, 02:49 PM

Garadiel flinches like he's been cleaved by a hammer across the face when Eridi mentions the "abominations" he created. He still hasn't figured out a way to fix that problem, for all his searching and personal growth. He seems to have set the seed into his godhood. He listens patiently through Eridi's explanation of Ateris' forgiveness. And then his brother makes his request.

Garadiel pauses and his eyes shift desperately and he looks at Eridi with fear and says, Please... Don't tell anyone... there is a desperation to his voice that is almost too keen for mortal emotions, the fear like that of losing a child. Eridi knows that Garadiel would rather be tortured to death and ripped to shreds by dogs, then give whatever it is that he is hiding. Aldric can hear the words too, in the distance, but the next words slip past him.

Garadiel, Garadiel says in such a quiet whisper that only Eridi can hear it. And Eridi sees Garadiel races Raia across the underworld, he sees him sitting and speaking with his father (though he cannot hear their words), he feels the births of a thousand worlds, he watches them fall, he feels the ancient weight of responsibility and the memories of the World Tree, he hears the desperate, clawing sound of the drums of the enemy muffled and dimmed and beaten, and Eridi sees something almost too tender for words. This had to be the great secret that Garadiel was preserving, for it is as if Eridi is there, as if he is the one holding the little child in his arm. He is speaking, words in True Speech Eridi is sure, and the boy's face lights up in a beautiful grin and Eridi is confident that there has never been a more beautiful child on all the earth. Never. But those are Garadiel's feeling and they fade, still, to see a child through its father's eyes is to know love. If, of course, the father is a good father.

Ateris, Eglasian and Wyse arriving at the House in the Uttermost East, long, late evenings speaking and talking and dreaming, a fight, yelling and screaming, and they are gone. Then, as if it was too much to imagine, the next scenes slip away, though Garadiel knows them well. There is pride, and presumption, and conviction as well. There is deeply misunderstood things, hopes that bring ruin, and yes, Garadiel sympathizes, but Ateris is wrong. And now... Murder. Loathsome, patricidal murder of Garadiel's beloved father. And now Ateris is dead, and Garadiel does not judge him, for that is not his way.

Carden

2010-08-18, 03:40 PM

Eridi laughed. It had been foolish to even think that would've worked. If Garadiel had realized that truth, he would be unable to speak it. "No, I'll never betray what you told me in your name. I made this promise once before, and I'll treat your secret the same. Not on the gravest pain of death will my quarrel with you spill to hurt any other. All I want is for you to atone for your sin and repent, or pay the same fee that you visited on our sister until you realize her pain. What you fear would never bring either of those goals to fruition, only damn me to serve the same justice from you.

"No, I won't betray my family, not one of them. Go, sit on Ateris's grave and know it as your own. Know Father's as Calantha's until you understand my truth. I have no words that can put it in your mind, but maybe, just maybe that will put it through your skull. Maybe then you'll see the part of you that you've missed, maybe under the tree whose limbs see all it will be shown to you. And I hope you will see then what Father meant when he said to remember what it is to be mortal."

Hyb - Census Taking

Aria weighed it in her mind for a while. She believed he was honest in his claim of his home, but she didn't quite like not knowing exactly why he wanted that information. As far as she could tell, they were hunting for something specific in that knowledge, and she didn't like knowing what it was. "Go and tell your King that the knowledge will be assembled for him by this guild post haste, but to claim it, he will have to contact and obtain the approval of Eridi himself. We also keep records of the outlying countryside and the southern empire, and you'll be able to make any more requests needed with the express help of our people, but I cannot give you those records and authority here and now. It will be far quicker this way, if your King travels as fast as most gods, but I have no authority in such matters as sensitive to the state without Eridi's permission."

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-18, 04:35 PM

Celestan and Orgo

Celestan's smile widened as he recognized Orgo, a bit bewildered, but amused at the same time.

Master Wolf! Such a surprise! I see you've found a use for the mask discarded by Kylfa-Madur...well, good for you I suppose!

Celestan gazed at the scrolls amassed near the throne.

"I hear you've been busy hunting and enjoying yourself in this new island. It's nice, really; could use a desert or two, though, it's really damp and soaked everywhere. Anyway, I've come here to ask about that King in the East and census business. According to the rider I met you seem quite serious about it. Seems like an efficient and very interesting entreprise; Sovvenia would have loved it. But I wonder; will the records be accessible to all the gods afterwards? And what of mortals? It would be better put to use if they are kept in a well-known place, no?

Also, I must ask: which of our reincarnated siblings are you looking for? Raia-sama? Aga'p? Ateris?"

Then Celestan became serious.

"The All-Father? Is he being reincarnated, too?"

Jair Barik

2010-08-18, 06:19 PM

Hyb
"Very well then..." The man turned and left without another word.

East
Orgo burst into loud laughter that echoed through the trees.

"My he is an observant one isn't he! In which case you should already know in advance who I am searching for without me needing to tell you. Look at the dates Celestan! The dates! I got a message some time back you know, don't know if you were around back then but still. Real aloof and pompous message, kinda intrusive but recent events got me thinking. When is it better to kill a threat than whilst it is still in the crib? Much too late to be murderin babes now but if something needed killing in the first place, well.... probably needs killing now too don't you think?"

A small bird flew down onto Orgo's palm with a message strapped to its leg. Quickly reading it the wolf eyed up Celestan.

"Say nephew.... Theres something you can help me with here if you want. I personally have no interest in two out of three souls so these records are yours to look through if you want to track them but it seems we have run into a snag on the southern continent... Eridi won't give up his records without a meeting with the King and... lets just say the two of us have not parted on good terms due to a little incident involving everybody's favourite death God. Your a good kid, maybe you could go convince him to part with a copy of his records? For the good of the whole world of course."

Nefarion Xid

2010-08-19, 01:17 AM

Lucien gave a cursory once-over of the Star Journal, flipping back a few pages to familiarize himself with the new positions. Watching the stars move across the sky was like reading about a war after years after it was over. It was far more interesting to listen to an old soldier. He heard the stars still, though he sometimes wished he didn't. He had too many voices swimming around in his head anyway and sometimes he wished the Watchers would keep their grand celestial commentary to themselves... or at least Rafa, Alma and Deneb would politely take turns with the stars.

His eyes slammed shut for a moment as the librarian of his mind stood up to shush the dull roar.

"Aldric has gone south, but it's impossible to track him. His divine flame is always there at the edge of the mind's eye. He obviously doesn't want to be found."

Lucien didn't need his father anyway. He'd accomplish what Aldric was incapable of and he didn't need anyone's help to do it.

"Yes, my lady. It will work. But uh... first? A test. Here..." he indicated on the star chart. "Silence the Behemoth's Watcher. It will be only be a matter of time until Aldric challenges him again. In fact, it will be simple to put the idea in his head."

Kasanip

2010-08-19, 05:09 AM

Nari and the Journey: Refugees leave the Fortress

Three more years passed quickly for the mortal world, and children began to grow up. Dreams and yearnings seemed to take a different light now, but still Nari dreamed of a home far away. She dreamed of adventure and passions, so even when she was in her service to the Gray Watch and the fortress of Caer Faol, her thoughts were far away across an ocean.

The passions that Celestan had brought burned brightly in her, and after a night of restless sleep, she at last decided to journey to the home she had known. By now, she was known throughout Cael Faol, for her beauty and earnestness had earned her many admirers, yet she had refused them with excuse and impossible challenges. When she spoke to the other refugees, her words seemed to aid the fire Celestan had brought them, and Nari proposed they take a boat to return home. It would be a difficult journey, and many were reluctant to put themselves into that danger. But Nari was persuasive, and at last won after many long days of discussion. She took up the Spirit Lantern entrusted to their people by Celestan, and in prayer for his protection and guidance, they borrowed and bought what ships they could, and made a fleet for the refugees. When she held the spirit lamp and boarded the ship, those on shore and boat also deemed her like a princess on a ceremonial journey. The prayers and rituals were made, and they set off at sea from the the North.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-19, 11:46 AM

Celestan

Celestan stroked his chin.

"Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. Still... There's no guarantee a reincarnated soul will fall into the same patterns all over again. No guarantee that this soul will even be a threat, if it never again ascends to godhood... No, I don't think killing someone trying out a new life is all that acceptable, even if I understand your concerns, Master Wolf. Why don't we take it under our wings, instead? I agree that the soul of a god might potentially be dangerous, unstable even; then why not make sure it doesn't happen, by shaping that soul?"

The young god stared right into Orgo's eyes.

"The souls that have tasted divinity are not the same as mortal souls. I wouldn't want to mess with the normal flow of mortal existence, but this...I have no problem with us using him. If it's for the good of the world obviously! If you swear to the heir of Raia that you won't kill him, then I will help you. I will also continue looking for Raia's new self."

hi-mi-tsu

2010-08-19, 01:01 PM

"Yes..." Calantha seizes the book, looking down at the star chart and the Watcher of the Behemoth. "Yesyesyes, destroy the Watcher and the thing becomes vulnerable, make the thing that cannot die dead and change the fate of all the world! Start the change by destroying the star..."

She falls silent, and her hand goes to the cross 'round her throat once more, squeezing it tightly. It offered her a modicum of sanity, in moments like this, when her mind threatened to scatter and fly away; the cool of the metal and the edges imprinting on her skin helped her to focus.

"Need a tool...need a tool to destroy the Watcher, to destroy others. Was never very good at tools...Eridi is good at tools, and he loves me still. Not a traitor"--the word drips with scorn--"like the other, no..."

She chews the inside of her lip, for a moment, then pushes herself abruptly to her feet; for the first time in seven years, the goddess of Delirium plans to leave her home and travel the world.

"You will stay here." She fixes her nephew with those burning eyes, that are only barely held in check for him. You will stay. She--Calantha points to Eithne--will come with me. She is ready for the world again."

~~~~~

It takes Calantha the entire rest of the day to prepare for the journey; she cannot come to her brother empty-handed, not for a request like this. And so she has her Fae and her priests pack up the most precious and rarest of their spices, new breeds and hybrids that were not largely available; she takes from her craftsmen the fine, silk cloth that they have made, in brilliant colors. And she takes for herself, for the vessel of her destroyer, an oval-shaped piece of ebony, polished to a mirror-like shine. At the moment, it was plain...but perhaps her visit with her brother would change that.

She mounts Apophis, with Eithne in tow; the goddess is wearing a hooded cape against the cold, in a brilliant purple, and Eithne has a similar style. She leaves without a farewell, without a grand ceremony, without the grand majority of the people in her city knowing that she has gone at all, and she prefers it that way. Let them not depend on her; let them not look to her always. She would not always be there for them. She was not even always there for them now.

Apophis is swift, but it still takes two days to get to Hybl'smita, if only because Calantha finds herself needing to stop often to reassure herself of her bearings; she is easily lost, both physically and mentally, and it takes the attention of Eithne and Apophis both to keep her focused. Finally, however, she sends Apophis into a slow, spiraling descent, landing him outside of Hyb itself; she walks into the city with the hood of her cloak thrown back, and all those that might challenge her take one look into her eyes and decide it would perhaps be a wiser choice to let the goddess walk undeterred.

"Eridi?" The city has grown much since she last visited, but her brother's home is still the same; for the first time in a long while, Calantha's posture softens around someone not of her immediate family.

"Eridi, come out! I have presents for you!"

(NOTE: Calantha is arriving three days after Garadiel came and (presumably) left.)

Jair Barik

2010-08-19, 01:12 PM

"Well the analogy was a poor one anyway. I believe a better way of putting it is to... nip the problem in the bud so to speak. I promise you that I will not kill the new Agap unless it proves to be absolutely necessary. For one thing there is the issue of Garadiel's manner of lording over the Underworld. I have a very basic awareness in the manner souls behave down there, straight from the horses mouth in fact, but I find it odd that after being dead for so long Agap chose some eleven or so years ago to suddenly return to the mortal coil. Seems suspicous if you ask me, a being divine suddenly and spontaneously returning to life. Makes me uncomfortable. Course it could be that Mr. Death is telling little lies but I for one aint taking that risk, specially not after recent events. Thus, the census..." Orgo gestured at the piled scrolls he had been recieving from his men.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-19, 01:55 PM

Celestan

"I cannot claim to know more about the underworld, or souls for that matter, unfortunately. And I don't even know my uncle. Raia used to tell me that Sovvenia loved Garadiel very much; he was her favorite brother. So while I respect him for what he does, I don't really know what to think about him."

Celestan picked up a scroll and to get a look at it, and see Orgo's reaction.

"Anyway, I'll go see Eridi, and hope for a good reaction. Does he know you are involved? If so, what should I tell him, as to not anger him?"

Jair Barik

2010-08-19, 02:01 PM

"Feel free to have a quick browse. Those are the results I got back so far and lists of places that need checking. Some of the big cities aren't too hard but the little barbarian towns and settlements are a nightmare. All it takes is for the kid to be born to a lone woodsman real far up north and all this is for naught. Also got my boys on the look out for 'noteworthy' kids. People who were born with some comment, unusual birth sign, odd omens, grew up unusually strong, you know the usual."

Hearing Celestan's comment on Eridi Orgo sighed.
"Probably best you don't go mentioning me by name... There is little love lost between us and we haven't spoken in a long time. Your a God though, I'm sure you can come up with something."

White Blade

2010-08-19, 03:15 PM

Garadiel tilts his head and manages to let out a... rather feeble statement. I will try, he says. By this he means both try to understand and try to earn Calantha's forgiveness. But he does not expect to receive her forgiveness, and Eridi's analogy has confused him. His brother made less sense then his father did, sometimes. He won't step on the Tree's Holy Island, though. He hasn't yet and he doesn't intend to. She consorts with the Dreamer, Garadiel says warningly the spawn of the Eternal Dreamer flashing in Eridi's mind, far more horrifying then he remembers them and the sound of the enemy's drums hot and loud in his ears, the sound he cursed Garadiel with all those years ago. But he does not stay to hear his brother's inevitable reproof for continuing to cast blame. He himself has work to do, to ready himself for that final battle.

The Elder Mountain
Garadiel's mother had once told him a story of the Elder Mountain, the Great Adviser, which his father had crafted when he was young and reckless to remind of him to be patient. It is said that there is a center antechamber and that in this center is a stone, which when lifted holds up the mountain and which is always held up by a pedestal. Garadiel searched long and hard for it, never to find it until this day. He walks to the center of the mountain with great slowness and deliberation, for the Elder is a patient being, and it has no interest in the slow and the weak.

In the antechamber, there is indeed a stone, but it is far larger than Garadiel would have imagine. It is large enough to be a mortal dwelling place, were it hollowed. The pedestal on which it stands is the size of a small town. Garadiel is awed. Can he lift such a terrible thing? He must. He knows he must. He walks up to it and lifts it, slowly, deliberately, for to rush it is to drop it and to watch the mountain fall.

Now he must stand. And stand he does. For fifty nights and fifty days he stands, listening to the slow, running hum of the earth as it begins to make noise and in answer to his lifting. At long last, the ancient elder had spoken a word, though it had taken five days to say it,
P A T I E N C E

And Garadiel feels the stone lighten in his hand and he feels the coursing of the ancient earth and he smiles. Yes. All that was left now was the Aether.
1 Major Act: Gain Elemental Mastery (Earth)

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-19, 03:26 PM

"Alright. I will do!"

Celestan was ready to leave when he thought of something.

"Please, tell me one thing Master Wolf. I have read about the End Times and the Final Battle between the gods and their enemies. Not much, just prophecies, and you can guess I am not as interested as my mother was in deceiphering them. But I wonder...do you have any idea what will happen if the gods succeed? What would you do? Simply continuing living freely, hoping for the best? Because I've been thinking about it, and I can't help but fear of what this world will become if the gods win. Can you imagine one of them ruling in Rognir's place? I feel like the world would be a better place - more free, more natural - if we could keep anyone from becoming that powerful. Don't you agree?"

Jair Barik

2010-08-19, 03:39 PM

"Indeed. You know none of the others seem to understand the way you do..."

By this point the mask has been put down, it has gone ignored for some time with the conversation.

"Got somethings to tell you boy. Big things, important. I, am no God. But that aint because of my pedigree, not like how the others think. I'm just as much the blood of Rognir as any of them. But a God... a God is somebody people worship, who wishes to tell the world how it should behave and what it should be but me... hell, I don't care who thinks what about me so long as I don't have to be answerable to any higher ups. I don't want to be a God, don't see the appeal really. So when these end times come, if they come, I'm going to have to do the only thing I can do, try and kill Nara before he kills me."

Carden

2010-08-19, 04:04 PM

Eridi whispered to the air as his brother departed. He did have an answer, but it was as feeble as Garadiel's had been, "I know, brother, but she's still our sister." Looking where Garadiel had stood, Eridi knew he wasn't going to get any work done tonight. Too much had been brought forth, too much to think about. Getting up, he took a large swig of beer before heading to the door. No need to hold back on it now.

Glancing at the man outside, he spoke, "You've been waiting out here patiently enough and I have nothing better to do for the moment. Come on in, let's see what I can do for you."

Hyb - Calantha's Visit

There were a few who recognized the serpent from the north, mainly dracliers who would be familiar with that land. Eridi had been notified post haste and, as glad as he was to see his sister come visit, he suddenly had the mind to tidy up, moving his current project off into one of his storage rooms. When she called out to him, he was ready.

Walking to the door, he had a large smile on his face. "Calantha! It's been too long! Last I heard, you had made yourself quite a city up north." Offering a hug, he gestured towards his home, "Come on inside and tell me how you've been lately." It looked almost half-clean inside his home, something that would seem rare indeed. If one thing did stand out to the eyes, it was the table Calantha had once fixed sitting in the middle of the room, looking a bit worse for age, but still showing the care that had been taken with it.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-19, 04:25 PM

Celestan formed a sad smile.

"I understand, even though I hope it won't come to that. I hope there is a way for both of you to survive that day. But no need to worry about that now...

See you later, Orgo!"

The young god vanished in a red blur, heading for his uncle's workshop.

---

Negeb
Shortly after the Battle of the World Tree

Celestan walked among the debris, broken columns, fallen bookcases and discarded instruments, inside the now ruined and dust-filled halls of the temple. Long ago it had been raised by the giants known as the Zamzumites to provoke the wrath of the gods. Then it had passed under Sovvenia's control, who hid it between worlds, only accessible through the heart of a storm, to serve as her holy sanctum. But then the goddess of the sky died, and the Anamnesis Oracle came crashing back here. Celestan brushed his hand against the tapissery depicting various human and giant lords locked in battle, the only remnant of what had once been the Shades, Sovvenia's branded. Despite all, this place still felt very much alive; it resonated with a thousand voices, a multitude of life stories, marked by enormous joy and dreadful sadness at the same time. If not for his extraordinary will and the ability bestowed by his armor, the god of fire and hope would probably have fallen into a deep torpor; even moreso now as the war had left him conflicted. The sight of his grandfather and his uncle slaying each other, unbearable. So powerful, yet so misguided, so full of hatred. Those were common among mortals, of course, but it was not normal for beings claiming rulership over entire races and continents, or even a special, heavenly status. Truly, something had to be done to make sure such flawed creatures couldn't exert so much control over the destiny of mortals ever again.

But everything has it's time. And for today, Celestan sought to add a new tool to the arsenal of humankind. The boy took out his burning stick and drew a magic circle on the stone floor. There was a loud BOOM, and the divine energy still imbuing the walls of the temple was violently ripped apart, spiraling towards the central point of the circle, then entering Celestan's blazing body. Once the deed was done, and the god left, nothing remained of the Temple-city but cinders and ash. Returning to the site of the Hall of Dawn's constrution, Celestan approached ten powerful men and women who had reached to him intending on learning the healing arts. He revealed an unstable orb of molten rock holding the divine energy salvaged from the Anamnesis Oracle. He asked each of them to put their hand on its bubbling surface. They did, even if it meant incredible pain, because they had complete faith in the cause. In doing so, they mixed their essence with the divine; and most surprisingly they didn't loose their hand, instead it turn into obsidian-like material, only flexible. Satisfied, Celestan released the ball which burst and sanctified the site. A sealed appeared on the side of the main hall; the mark of a sacred realm.

The bastion of Humanity. It was as much Celestan's realm as the mortals'.

OOC: Slight changes of plans, approved by Raz
Exchange Sovvenia's divine sanctum for a 2 MA worth divine realm set at the location of the Hall of Dawn, a bastion of mortal dominance (free)

1 ma is still used to enhance the Hall, specifically healing and regeneration inside
1 ma used to brand and empower 10 men and women, who become the first Cardinals, hierophants, highest in the Order

White Blade

2010-08-20, 09:47 AM

In The Uttermost North
The Herald of the World Tree was freezing cold. I mean that literally, he was freezing from cold. Yes. It was cold. Too cold almost, as he dragged himself through the walls of ice to stand above the baying beast beneath him. He does not speak to it, nor know its crimes, but every corner of the compass must have its lord, and the Northern Lord is a prisoner always. North. The direction of cold, darkness, and imprisonment. The direction of water. These were Garadiel's theories, as he pressed upward toward the peak corner of the world. There is the frozen hole from which the sun must rise. He does not touch it, not yet, for his plans have not yet reached fruition. Oh, he has plans to visit the judgment seat of creation, the House of the Stars. But not this day.

He reaches the edge and sees where Faolan's mangled armor has replaced the scales of A'gap and knows this is the Uttermost North. His frigid hand is gloved, but not protected, and he reaches out and touches it, the chief of the house of death. Garadiel's stars had once hung in the North of the sky, before he had claimed dominion of life. But now is not that day, and the cold bites at him like an enemy, and the beast beneath him bays. What beast was so mighty that Rognir bound and did not kill it? He did not know. He had seen the day his father had trapped the beast here, but he did not know why. Why mercy? For what crime? It mattered, Garadiel was sure. But he did not have time to find out. His son missed him.

Home Coming
Garadiel set down and his son ran out to greet him, far older it seemed then when he left. "Papa!" he shouted happily, running up and flinging his arms around his father's neck, as little boys do. Ordinarily, a father might have commented on how his boy had grown, but Garadiel seldom spoke and when he did, it was to say something of great meaning. He lifted his son up in his arms and said, I love you Verdant.

There are some things no skald can write. There are things no bard can tell. There are things that can't be uttered, even if said so well. There are truths which must be known and can't be written, and powers that are stronger than the stars. This is one of those things, this is the love of Garadiel for his son.

Verdant burst into happy tears and clung to his father as his mother walked out to greet them. She kissed her husband and smiled, beginning to sing a song as they walked together, telling Garadiel of all that had happened when he was gone.

The Map of Garadiel and The Five Messengers
Garadiel spent many days playing with his son and loving his wife, living strangely domestically for all of it. He spends time in his study, on occasion, working on a map. The finest map not found in his father's house. He looks down, and everywhere has paths that mortals do not know, every place has its mystical tints plain to show. It is hard to look at for all of it, because it is a true speech made map, and Garadiel's meaning is clear in every stroke and every line.

It was on Verdant's sixth birthday, the eighth anniversary of his grandfather's death, that Garadiel took Verdant out to the shore of the island and bade him watch as a god called forth life from nothing. He spoke five names, North, South, West, East, Center. Five men grew from nothing, called forth from nothing, made by Garadiel's will and divine might.

North was pale almost to the point of blueness, with eyes like the sea. He was clearly not human, though he was of humanoid build. His shocking white hair combed back into a pony-tail and his clothes were thick and heavy, to insulate from the cold. His face was stern, his eyes were angry.

South wore very little, naught but a loincloth and a smile, his skin looked like burnished bronze and his hair was red. His eyes blazed with fire and his breath seemed like smoke. He was bald and happy looking, like he had spent his whole life smiling.

West was a child, not much older than Verdant, floating in the air. He wore white clothes and his eyes were cunning, his feet were clothed in shoes and his hands were tipped with rings. He looked not naive but dreamy, and he had an impish air to him.

East was an old man, his long gray beard was evened out by his bald head. He had wrinkles and a look of great mystery about him, his eyes seemed to glint like gemstones in the light. He wore a long robe that was made from a reflective material that seemed to crinkle like metal when it moved too swift.

Center was a young man, of common appearance and complexion, with gray eyes that told of wisdom, with hands that moved with deliberation, with feet that went exactly where they belonged. He gave the appearance, no matter who saw him, of belonging right where he was.

Verdant was in awe and Garadiel smiled at him. He gave a task to each Herald, and bid them depart.

1 ma to create the Map
1 ma to create the Heralds

Kasanip

2010-08-20, 09:54 AM

Nari and the Dragon of the Sea

The journey by sea was long and hard. The Shiuk people were not of the sea, but horse-riders of the plains, and the Toukoku people were warriors of mountain and valley. In this trial, many of the elderly became sick and some even died. Prayers to Garadiel were sent in hopes to prevent the coming of wraiths or shinen, who might take these corpses. So many were put into the ocean with these prayers.

Storms made the journey hard, and there were many nights that some thought it would be their last. But these times it seemed that Nari's reassuring words, and the warmth of the light of the Soul Lantern were comforting and helped give determination. But secretly Nari too was worried and struggled with the burdens placed on her shoulders, for she was still young an inexperienced as a leader. They prayed to Celestan to watch over them, but in the height of a terrible storm, it's great fury made the boat seem as if it would sink beneath the waves, and Nari was thrown into the water! The people on the boats cried out into the storm, but could not reach her, because none knew how to swim.

Down.

Down.

She sank down to the bottom of the ocean, and there at last saw a glorious realm. It was a palace of pearl and rainbow coral, beautiful and proud. She entered, and there saw many strange creatures of the sea, which had never been seen, of many shapes and sizes large and small. But upon the throne of the palace there was a great dragon, the King of this ocean, who was the most regal and proud of them all. It was he who had sent the storms to destroy the Shiuk ship, for they had not prayed or offered to him for safe passage, and he was a temperamental and greedy spirit king.

Now though, he saw Nari and was struck by her beauty, and thinking her a worthy treasure, commanded her to approach. Nari presented herself in the Shiuk way, and then the Dragon King spoke.

"You, Nari, are fair beyond the fishes and pearls of the sea. But your people have transgressed me and left no offering or prayer for safe passage. What say you for this transgression?"

Nari, holding the soul lantern close to her, and being quick thinking, presented her best smile and charm, and bowed before the Dragon King.

"My lord, we have sent an offering, for it is my purpose of coming here. I am the offering of the Aptok-un-Shiuk, Great Lord of the Sea. May it please you to look upon me, and not harm the Aptok-un-Shiuk, who are weary and fearful, and so far from home."

The Dragon King was pleased, and so with a command the storm was stopped, and the Aptok-un-Shiuk were saved. Though at last they were safe, it was with heavy hearts they continued their journey, for they had lost Nari and the Spirit Lantern beneath the waves.

In the palace beneath the ocean, the Dragon king commanded Nari be taken and given residence, and then dressed in the finest pearls and sea gems. But Nari's own thoughts were troubled, for she had no wish for this end to her story. Having sharp wit, she devised a desperate plan to save herself from service here. When she came to present herself to the Dragon King again, he spoke in a deep voice.

"I shall add you to my court, lady Nari, so that your beauty may grace me forever. Now approach, so I may see you more closely."

Obediently Nari approached the great Dragon King, and bowed again before him. But this time she touched her head to the floor, so that the Dragon King could not see her face. The great King was surprised, but unfamiliar with the Shiuk people (for they were not seafarers), and in his confusion, he bent down to look closer, and at this moment Nari rose her head and looked into his eyes with a charming smile, his own face only a nose from hers.

"My Lord." She spoke softly. "Your Grace is wise and strong, for who else could command the sea as you? My heart trembles before you, but it is with my regret. You see, my heart is not of pearl, but an orange. If I was to stay, it would be like a fish on land. I might serve you for a short time, but then I will pass away with grief. Would it not be better my lord, to send me on? When I arrive, I may find many oranges, and so return to you with a great basket, so we may be together for a long time?" Caught in her beauty and charming words, the dragon king agreed quickly, pulling back with haste and a wild commanding gesture.

"Go then, fair Nari. I command you to find your oranges and return quickly to me." The court of fish and monster of the sea spread their way for her, and Nari bowed again to him as she stepped back.

"Please my Lord, send us on with fair wind and wave, so that we may arrive quickly." She implored to him with her hands together like a prayer.

"It is done" was his reply. And Nari smiled happily, and offering her thanks again, she left, and was taken by the dolphins for a long journey, and brought to land in the south of Iuvenis. She held the spirit lantern close, and with awe and surprise, she realized it's light had never gone out, even in the deep. But she was grim in thought, for the Shiuk ships were nowhere to be seen, for they had landed further north many days before.

The villagers of this small fishing village, who saw her to rise from the water and thought her first a spirit or maybe a goddess, because of the treasures of the sea she wore. The dolphins left her in their care, and Nari was tired and weak from the long days at sea. But a kind old family brought her in and took care of her.

It is from this story that two things of the Shiuk people are well known:

The first, to say 'an orange heart' has a meaning of 'a deceitful person.'
The second, why the Shiuk people do not sail upon the north sea, for they fear the Dragon King's wrath for this trick.

But now Nari and the Shiuk refugees were divided by some distance, and by nation, for the south of Iuvenis had many divided states for it's long history, but in this era of peace they had flourished. How would she find her way?

hi-mi-tsu

2010-08-20, 10:26 PM

This hug Calantha submitted to gladly; she and Eridi had always gotten along, and now was no exception. He was a defender, had tried to help restore her to normalcy without stabbing her, enjoyed her table--something she noted, with delight. It was still standing, the flowers as vibrant as ever...strange though they were.

"I come with gifts from my Northern city, Erimere...she is quite different than Hyb, brother mine. Someday, perhaps, you will visit and avail yourself of the pleasures of my temple...as you are one of the few who has not abandoned us."

The goddess beckons Eithne forward, and spills upon the table the dyed silks and rare spices she's brought; she explains their uses--this for healing, this for strength, this for heat and this for tang. Then she glances up at her brother, and her hand convulsively closes around the cross at her throat.

"I come...not just for gifts, Eridi. I need your help. I have this, you see"--she reveals her oval of ebony, and lays it with reverence upon the silks; a note of desperation enters her voice, as she caresses it with gentle fingers.

"Once, my brother came to you, begging you for the means to save me. Now, I ask the same of you, to save him. I wish to build a mirror...a mirror that will absorb the stars. The stars bind my brother to their fate, as they bind me, to...die..." Her eyes flicker, and she grips the cross so tightly the edges cut into her palms.

"I do not...wish to die, brother, for more reasons than just the pain. Death will put me into his purview, traitor..."

It is with visible effort that she controls herself, fighting down the anger.

"Please, Eridi...help me..."

(Offer up a Ceremony, to make the Star Mirror, which will absorb stars and place them in an alternate realm (possibly worth two MA? Willing to spend that much.) This will not be able to take all the stars at once, but rather consumes the ones that Calantha focuses her will on; should it be broken, the stars would be released back into the sky.)

Carden

2010-08-21, 12:42 AM

Eridi politely pushed aside the invitation for later. He had heard of Calantha's land, and, honestly, thought it could do with a bit of order, but it was what those there had chosen and it wasn't his place to change that. Giving a cursory nod to Eithne, who he hadn't recognized at first outside of her gray garb, he listened to Calantha's explanation of the goods before him. When she clutched at the cross, he was mildly surprised, but held off any reaction until the end.

No, that cross had been distinctive. Any apprentice would know their master's work at a glance, and Eridi had been the best apprentice in that matter. After she was done voicing her request, he put his hand over hers and held out his own trinket. "Father gave me one too. He said it'd keep me safe in the Wolf-Age, when brother fought brother and he was gone from this world. Then he told me my duty in that time, to safeguard the world from those beyond this world. I know them to lay behind the shell of A'gap, but I suspect they also dwell underneath everything and above the stars. I know nothing of their nature, and, frankly, I'm afraid to ask the only source I have."

Sitting down, he gestured for Calantha and Eithne to do the same. "This isn't to say I refuse. You and Aldric, you're family and I love you more than the world. I would damn it over and over again if it would save you both, but letting those nameless nightmares in would kill us all and the world. To compromise, I offer you this; I will make not one, but two mirrors. One will work as you so earnestly wish, but the other I will keep, hung around my very neck at all times. It will seem but a trinket, and, hopefully, that's all it will ever have to be, but should I speak certain words and then break it, yours will be broken as well and the stars shall return. I would only do this if creation itself was close to breaking and there was no other way to save us all, and then I would find another way to save you both."

His eyes pleaded for understanding. He knew Calantha meant well, but he had seen the worst of all horrors committed by those who had meant only the best. This path was a knife's edge at best, a cliff-dive more probably, but he would walk it for his sister. His eyes were just hoping she saw it that way.

Act Expenditure
Offer a Ceremony to make the Star Mirror artifact with his stipulations on it's creation.

TheDarkDM

2010-08-21, 01:07 AM

The door to Rognir's House groaned open at Faolan's push, whatever protective magics it once held fled with the death of their creator. As he walked into the main hall, the torches flanking him burst to life, sensing the vestigial presence of their master upon his spear. But these were not the vibrant flames of life, but flickering embers, the shallow light of the grave. Strange shadows were cast upon the walls, and Rognir's empty seat seemed a monstrous dark thing lurking far from Faolan. But it was not Rognir's seat Faolan had come for, but the manifold rooms he had heard Eridi tell tales of, rooms that held wonders beyond the ken of even the other gods. Peering through the torch bearing pillars, Faolan could see a multitude of doors, crafted from every wood and metal of this world and the world before. Tapping the Spear against the flagstones to navigate the gloom, Faolan chose one door at random and dove into a legacy he hoped would spell the salvation of reality.

Past rooms of maps and trinkets, tools of war and tools of healing, Faolan wandered. In the center of the map room, he saw a parchment graven with the continents of the world, saw the new island that had risen in the East. He marveled at the accumulated trophies of Rognir's conquests, the weapons and arms of a thousand fallen foes, and marveled even more at the medicines of Rognir's room of healing. But for all the magnificent secrets he beheld, Faolan was not satisfied, until he reached the room he desired - the Library of Rognir. There, Faolan hoped to find the secrets of Those Who Wait Beyond, and perhaps even a way to defeat them. He tore through the volumes of the library, spending days, weeks, in a frenzied search for knowledge. Though he was able to set aside a score of volumes on a wide range of subjects, Faolan discovered nothing until he came to a small writing desk in a dark corner of the Library. There, sitting unfinished on the desk, was fat leather-bound volume, the Chronicle of Rognir written in his own hand. Working feverishly, Faolan stoked a fire in the small hearth beside the desk, and sat down to read the story of Rognir's life.

Nefarion Xid

2010-08-21, 02:45 AM

Three Nights Prior

A hard drag finished off the stranger's cigarette and he extinguished it beneath the toe of his slick boot. Twin trails of smoke washed over his face as he finally exhaled halfway across the yard. His walk, his dress, the handsome aroma was all wonderfully familiar for an instant. No, Eridi was sure he'd never met this man before. Had Lucien smoked? No... maybe he'd met a Draclier who wore this cologne.

"I would ask forgiveness for the late hour, but I cannot sleep either. I was walking to clear my mind when I noticed you were... entertaining." A lopsided, quirky smile. The stranger was perceptive.

"I can see to my business later with the proper guild channels if you'd prefer. But, since I did bring you this..." He produces a carefully wrapped bundle of black silk from his coat pocket. Peeling back the layers he reveals an exquisite, but tiny box made of highly polished elm and a minute silver key.

"Lucien Elmdore sends his regards and this gift. No message. I must admit, I've been anxious to see what it is." A lie. He'd played with it for the entire voyage. Lucien's invention was a music box. By winding the mechanisms inside with the key and pulling back the lid, the box played the chorus to one of Alarin's lullabies. The inside of the box was without ornamentation, the gears were on plain display as was the toothed cylinder that spun slowly and struck the silver tines to produce each note.

The_Snark

2010-08-21, 03:43 AM

7 Years Ago

Tears dry. The world goes on.

The first room Lilike ventures to is the kitchen. It is true that the needs of the mind are the highest and most noble of all man's needs, and the stomach among the lowest and basest; but it is also true, and this truth has tormented scholars for centuries, that the basest needs are most important, for the higher needs can never be met while they lie upon an unsteady foundation, and the night's long vigil has left Lilike weak and swaying with hunger.

Only after hunger is sated and thirst quenched does Lilike turn her mind to other matters. Her father is dead, lost in the East, and she—so far as she knows—his only living child. Therefore, the tower passes to her, along with all its secrets. It is a bittersweet reward to discover them alone, but better to eat bitter fruit than to starve. Besides which, the day brought with it a certain cold clarity, shedding light on memories that she'd conveniently forgotten yesterday. Her early childhood spent fatherless, for he had showed himself only once she was old enough to learn. His refusal to answer questions—he doled out secrets like a miser gave away coins. His face, which she had never properly seen, for he'd never taken off his mask in her presence. And of course yesterday, when he had cast her in the path of his half-brother Garadiel and fled. Neglect, mistrust, ill use.

Her grief is still present, but part of her cannot help but think that the least Kylfa-Madur owes her is an inheritance. So she claims it—for who is there to stop her? Kylfa-Madur is gone.

In the alchemist's lab she finds many wondrous things: decanters of wind, perfume made from the deadly white bone lotus, the bottled death-shrieks of owls, and far stranger things, which despite all Kylfa-Madur's tutoring she cannot begin to guess at. Most precious, however, is comparatively simple thing, a jar of white paste which purports to be sovereign against all maladies. She anoints her right hand, where the Bird with Eight Wings had seared her flesh, and her pain is soothed; but even this miraculous salve could not wholly undo the injury the Bird's white fire had done her, and the flesh of her hand remains scarred and blackened.

In the dark libraries she finds books that can be found no-where else, written in tongues that have never seen the light of day. These she spends many hours deciphering, and the secret histories of the West are gradually revealed to her: how Ateris and Kylfa-Madur first came to the West, and defeated the terrible giant-king Bhat Hu who ruled there. She learns of savage Barabde, who was imprisoned beneath a mountain by Ateris; she learns of ambitious Czeref and his followers, transformed to trees by Kylfa-Madur before their plotting could come to fruition, and feels a shock of recognition run through her.

In another library she finds grimoires written in the Dark Speech, and these she cannot bear to read for long; the letters writhe on the pages, wormlike, and soon she closes the grimoires for fear that they will escape to inflict some ill upon the world. But each word sears itself into her mind, so that she will never forget them, and she cannot help but be drawn back to them every few days, to open the next book.

In a third library lie books of runes, which protect and bind and wither and give fortune. There are symbols of ill omen, carved on the blade of a sword to help it strike, and symbols of strength, carved on the hilt to ward off shattering. There are sea-runes which help ships to cleave through the water, and storm-runes which help the sails catch the winds, and wood-runes which prevent rot. There are ale-runes, which destroy poison when carved on the edge of a mug, and leech-runes to draw foulness out of a wound.

In a fourth there are no books at all, but the walls themselves are covered in writing, listing the secret name of every bird that flies by night.

All these things Lilike discovers, and yet has only scratched the surface, for the tower holds centuries of lore. Days stretch to weeks, and weeks stretch to months, and with every day that passes the tower feels colder and darker. More forbidding. Less homelike. One day when she wakes she is taken with the unshakable conviction that someone is watching her, and from then on the feeling never wholly leaves, though it fades in daylight hours, and grows stronger when she is tired.

The tower is Kylfa-Madur's. Not hers.

TheDarkDM

2010-08-21, 04:58 AM

Eithne

As Eithne left Erimere with Calantha, she shot Lucien a wicked smile. It was a smile that assured him that she remembered their duel, a smile that demanded the two meet again. As she passed him, it seemed almost as though she would speak, but then she was gone, leaving only the faint scent of lavender in the air. As she mounted Apophis, Eithne pondered how the world would have changed in the years since she'd entered the seclusion of Calantha's service. For the first time in nearly a decade, she though back to her companions in the Grey Watch, and as her mortal attachments flooded back she began to feel uneasy. Breaking the stars was something she and Calantha had discussed at ease in the mad vapors of Delirium's study, but riding through the night air it seemed a far more real and dangerous venture. Yet she owed Calantah a great debt of gratitude, and so said nothing.

When the two landed outside Hyb, Eithne caught a whiff of the city's markets, the faintest scent of forges and tanners and spices mixing into a melange of meaning. The memories came as a tidal wave, threatening to wash her tenuous consciousness out of the now and into the then, but she held on with all the strength of her divine blood, and the moment passed. Though Calantha could sense something amiss, the only thing that betrayed Eithne's momentary crisis was a slight stagger, so the two continued on. Eithne remained silent as Calantha introduced her again to Eridi, though she gasped inwardly at how old and worn the Forge God appeared. Then the conversation turned to the breaking of the stars, the undoing of destiny, and for the first time since she could remember, Eithne prayed to Faolan for guidance.

White Blade

2010-08-21, 10:24 AM

The Five Messengers
North arrived in Erimere, and all who saw him thought him strange. But there seemed to be no one there who he was looking for, so he waited patiently.

South made his way to the Covenant of the Fives, and spoke to them of their lord, giving them his blessing and telling of what Garadiel had learned in his absence.

West made his way to Westerly, and told the people there of Garadiel's blessing on them, of the strength and renewal that was for them.

East went to the house of Shen Shi Zhu and cried at the gate, "Oh Shen Shi Zhu, Brother of My Lord, I bear a message from him."

Center is a mystery, if the gods would know, and she seems to be perplexing. For whom she carries a message it is not known, but Garadiel has tasked her, so she will wait.

Garadiel goes to Visit his Nephew
Verdant was nearly six and a half before Garadiel departed on another major journey. His son was playing with some hulder children, making grand gestures, when his father and the Elder came out to meet him. He knew what was coming. He cried and Garadiel told him that he loved him and then Garadiel departed again, leaving behind Verdant under the care of the Elder and his wife.

Garadiel headed south. He has heard of the Hall of Dawn and he makes his way there, searching out his nephew. He does not call out to him, because obviously Garadiel does not talk casually, but when asked who he is he points to his cheek and the symbol of the World Tree. Yes. Things shall be great before these days are done.

Kasanip

2010-08-21, 12:05 PM

Nari and the 5 Kingdoms of the South

The lands of the south of Iuvenis had long been settled by humans. The empire Garadiel had built, and the kingdoms that had risen and fallen with Raia's aid still stood divided. Wealthy city states, now with the end of the war with Ateris, an era of peace had mostly come to these places, and they thrived on trade, and expanded. Still there were the troubles on occasion of the Shinen, and the northernmost spoke in hushed whispers of Tengu, but it was a land of flourishing medieval civilization.

It was here in the south that the Aptok-un-Shiuk and Nari came at last, though they were in different places. Having no ruler, the Aptok-un-Shiuk turned to themselves now, and deemed for a season to take refuge before the hard journey into the mountains. Many knew well the danger in winter, not only of the snow, but the tengu, many of whom were still wild except for the Kuzan, who none now knew what had happened after the war and collapse of Toukoku. Some argued to go to seek them out for aid, but others warned against it, because Tengu were cunning and deceitful.

So in the northernmost kingdom of Hifu, they settled for the moment, on permit of the king who was still friendly to their plight and hoped they would be as a shield from the tengu of the north. Sometimes these tengu would come down to raid the farms. Weary and struggling to make ready for winter, they turned to Celestan, and prepared offering and flame for him at night.

In the southern east kingdom of Itsanu, in the small fishing village Nari awoke to find herself in care of the elderly family. They had taken care of her for many days as she recovered, and in gratitude she gave to them freely many of the pearls of the sea, and they dressed her in the best of the clothing they could find for her journey.

So it was that after two weeks had passed, Nari was ready to set on her journey through the five kingdoms, and holding the spirit lantern, she bowed to the family in gratitude and earnestly wished them the best before she departed. So it was that afterward the elderly family and whole village came to a good harvest that late autumn, and so for winter there was no wanting of food, and they were comfortable.

Nari traveled north on foot, into the kingdom of Yocchi, though when she last arrived it was the first frost, so she did not wait long, hoping to race the snow north and reach Mittara before winter came. Exhausted from her travels, she only made it to Mittara. As snow fell and she searched for a place to stay, she passed a young noble who was struck with her beauty and order his guards to approach her and bring her to his residence. There he tried to win her favor, and dressed her in fine silk clothes of Zhanguo, which were popular exotic clothing here. A beauty of the Steppes who wore the gems of the sea and clothes of the civilized east, she was quickly famous and admired by any who saw her in the city. Yet Nari resisted the noble's pleas, only offering to him requests of impossible tasks as she tried to think of another plan. Soon other suitors would come to her, and in tern she offered them the same impossible tasks. To shoot a bird of fire from the south, or bring a branch of the world tree to her, all who tried to complete these tasks failed or left discouraged. And winter continued on.

As snow fell lightly outside, Nari in her despair turned to the Spirit lamp, which burned lower now than she had ever seen. Taking it into her arms, Nari prayed to Celestan.

"Lord Celestan, god of Fire and giver of our sacred light. I, Nari, your servant am of the exiled children of Aptok-un-Shiuk and pray to you for guidance. I wander far, and desire only to return to my home. You gave this light to us, and see now that it flickers so small in this lonely hour. I need your help, God of fire and passion. Please answer my prayers."

ArlEammon

2010-08-21, 01:55 PM

The Five Messengers
North arrived in Erimere, and all who saw him thought him strange. But there seemed to be no one there who he was looking for, so he waited patiently.

South made his way to the Covenant of the Fives, and spoke to them of their lord, giving them his blessing and telling of what Garadiel had learned in his absence.

West made his way to Westerly, and told the people there of Garadiel's blessing on them, of the strength and renewal that was for them.

East went to the house of Shen Shi Zhu and cried at the gate, "Oh Shen Shi Zhu, Brother of My Lord, I bear a message from him."

Center is a mystery, if the gods would know, and she seems to be perplexing. For whom she carries a message it is not known, but Garadiel has tasked her, so she will wait.
.

"Shen Zhi Shu is here." Shen Zhi responded. "What does my Brother require of me?" He finished. He wondered what his Brother wanted. . .He knew it was Garadiel. He had been closely gaurding the Sacred Flame for now, since he had put off traveling the world in favor of concentrating on Zhang.

White Blade

2010-08-21, 02:07 PM

ArlEammon

2010-08-21, 02:13 PM

My Lord Garadiel has set before me a great task in coming to you, Shen East-Father. He has told me some small secrets of the world, and the message of your father for yourself and your siblings. the oldest looking messenger replied, But it is not fit for mortal ears. Might I enter your house, that we might discuss this in private?

"Very well then messenger. Enter into my Sanctum, none are present during this day of mourning." Shen Zhi said. The Day of Mourning was on them. Once inside the Sanctum, Shen Zhi Shu offered the messenger a succulent feast. "What is it that my brother wishes?" Shen Zhi Shu asked. "I hope that he will reconcile us together. I wish that we were closer."

White Blade

2010-08-21, 03:19 PM

"Very well then messenger. Enter into my Sanctum, none are present during this day of mourning." Shen Zhi said. The Day of Mourning was on them. Once inside the Sanctum, Shen Zhi Shu offered the messenger a succulent feast. "What is it that my brother wishes?" Shen Zhi Shu asked. "I hope that he will reconcile us together. I wish that we were closer."

The messenger has sat down, and eats slowly and deliberately, as if for the first time. He knows the motions though, and is quickly successful in his efforts. My Lord Garadiel does in fact wish reconciliation. But I bear greater messages than these, including the message of your late father. If you are prepared, I shall tell it to you now.

ArlEammon

2010-08-21, 03:22 PM

The messenger has sat down, and eats slowly and deliberately, as if for the first time. He knows the motions though, and is quickly successful in his efforts. My Lord Garadiel does in fact wish reconciliation. But I bear greater messages than these, including the message of your late father. If you are prepared, I shall tell it to you now.

Shen Zhi Shu/Messenger

Shen Zhi Shu covered his heart with his hand and sighed. "I hope it isn't about Alrodores" He stated sincerely. "It's been on my mind alot more frequently than it used to be. I hope that I will not age beyond my time ever again. To become a victim of something like that would not be profitable for me or even the other gods."

White Blade

2010-08-21, 03:39 PM

The messenger sighed, Álrodores comes, as it must East-Father. But that is not the primacy of the Great Lord's message. He said that, "When the cycle comes around again, you must stop the eternal dreamer again as the rite of passage." My Lord inclines me to remember the Eternal Dreamer to you and to explain that he is the lord of they who sit beyond the skin of the great serpent A'gap.

"Do not let the world fall into decay," which is to say, my Lord believes, do not neglect the care taking of the world.

"Do not let it expand into ruin," My Lord believes that all things must rise and fall in their due time, and he believes that this means you must not cling to this world past its time.

"Do not forget that you are divine," Here again, my lord believes that you and your family must not stoop too low, must not be shuddering and weak, unwilling to pay the purchase of the way the world turns.

"Do not forget that you were once mortal," My lord here imparts the understanding that mortality is humility, and that to remember your mortality is to not become cruel or arrogant.

"And Make this world Shine, that those who come after might remember it." For this world will pass, even as the gods age and we ourselves grow weak and die. But to remember is important, and to be remembered is to have left a legacy. Now the new servant who looks old sits in silence, his message delivered.

ArlEammon

2010-08-21, 03:47 PM

White Blade

2010-08-21, 05:23 PM

East takes a drink of wine with no apparent reluctance and then looks at his host, "My Lord was not given a message for mortal kind, but only for his siblings. To deliver it to any other would be dishonorable. Of course, now that that message has been delivered unto you, it is yours to do with freely as you might wish. But, so long as it was in my possession, it was not my choice. And my name is East, Shen Shi Zhu, though I doubt I will respond to it easily if you call me by it. When my lord speaks, it is a far realer thing than when do others. Proper treatment of us as servants is entirely reasonable, I might add. Our Lord merely requests that you not ask of us anything immoral or contrary to the divine law, and he reminds you that we must return to him when he beckons us."

hi-mi-tsu

2010-08-21, 10:28 PM

In the North

In Erimere, there is some consternation among those who live in the city; this odd figure had appeared within the walls, walls that were never kept sealed, for Calantha welcomed all who sought the eye-opening North. Still, even for Erimere, North was a very strange creature, with his angry eyes and his inhuman shape and his otherworldliness...and so several people reported the figure to the Temple, and after the fifth artist came to her Odiana decided to take matters into her own hands.

She flies out to the figure, who has said nothing to those of Erimere, merely waited; for a time, she is silent, observing him with sharp eyes that are sometimes green and sometimes blue and sometimes a color with no name. Finally, she speaks, and her words carry with them the weight of one god-touched.

"I know not why you are here, stranger, nor for what reason you find it necessary to frighten the people of this town. But I believe that it would be...wise...for you to come into the Temple, and tell me what you are doing in Erimere. I am Odiana, head of the Temple of Delirium, and I speak for the Lady when she is not...present." The slight hesitation before the word shaded it with meaning; "not present" didn't necessarily mean not within the city walls.

"Will you come peacefully? You are frightening the people."

With Eridi

Calantha looks down at her brother's hand on her own as though it is a foreign thing, and while he speaks her gaze wanders about his workshop; she appears not to be listening, but for once in her life she is listening harder than anything else. To try to understand.

"You...think me a danger." Silence had fallen, after Eridi had finished his speech; these words were quiet, nearly inaudible, and the goddess's fingers continue to caress the shining ebony on the table. "It is reasonable to think thusly. I am a danger. Not to you, but...you have seen, as she has, as I have, that I...lack control."

She laughs, weakly, and there is a bleak resignation in her eyes when she lifts them to her half-brother's. "Sometimes I can be here, like now; now I am here in this place and I smell the heat of your forge and I hear your voice and you are you and not a column of smoke or a demon or a tree. But other times I am not me, other times I am something else, or someone else, and I fly or I fall and I know everything and nothing all at once. So I will agree...I will agree to your safeguarding. But know, Eridi, know that if the mirror breaks..."

Her eyes flicker, and for a moment there is something deep in them, something that is dangerous to get close to, something that would drive a mortal man mad in an instant and makes Eridi feel uncomfortable in his own skin. Then it is gone, and she gazes into the rich blackness of the wood.

"If the mirror breaks, I may...be lost. If it breaks, do not fight to save me...only save him. Please."

White Blade

2010-08-21, 10:54 PM

It is not my intention to cause fear, he says in a clipped, business like manner. It is... restrained. Locked. Bottled up. The very way that Erimere is loosed, like it is trying to escape something, is contradictory to this messenger. For this silent blue man is contained within that something, and he is happy there. Discipline, perhaps, or slavishness if you prefer. Given by will, carved with meaning. The barren walls of a prison cell, chosen for reasons that no citizen of Erimere really understands. I will do as you ask and go to the temple. He stands in his furcoat and his frigid way, moving towards the temple with deliberateness. His steps fall with great regularity as he walks and one follows the other the way that thunder follows lightning. It is inevitable. The Draciliers don't even walk with this kind of discipline. You could set a watch by measuring the time between his steps. He arrives at the temple and goes where he is directed, I have a message for your lady. But it is for her ears only. he says with some finality.

Carden

2010-08-22, 12:30 AM

Eridi marveled at the music box. It was wonderful craftsmanship and ingenious design. Eridi could scarcely feel prouder of his apprentice. "Truly, Lucien is a marvel. A bit impatient, but he takes after his father in that respect. I just wish he would've stayed a bit longer, I never got the chance to finish teaching him." Listening to the tune tinkling away, he had no doubts in his decision to train his nephew. One day that boy would change this world, hopefully for the better.

Startled by a sudden realization, he snapped out of the memories brought by the toy, "Ah, excuse me, my last... ah, guest, I guess you could call him, threw me off my manners a bit. I seem like I should know you, but for the life of me I can't place your face. Perhaps a drink or two would get you to forgive me that slight? My own draft, of course, can't get it anywhere else and I swear you'll find nothing better."

Eridi & Calantha - Promises

Unnerved but satisfied, it was a strange mix of feelings for Eridi. She had agreed to the thinnest path he had offered, and she hadn't completely broken. Cracked a bit, but not broken. "I promise you, here and now, I will do everything in my power to save Aldric should this plan fail. On my mother's soul, I will not ever rest if I break this promise." In his mind, he spoke the words he knew his sister would protest, but he would not leave them out. But I cannot save Aldric without saving you, too. It would break him, more surely than any wound, to lose you. Aldric first, then you Callie, or I die trying.

Getting up, he took the ebony in his hands to examine it. "Unless more needs saying, we should go ahead and start. Time is always of the essence, and Pa'am tends to be unfriendly to those who wait too long."

Nefarion Xid

2010-08-22, 05:02 AM

Aldric is more than happy to oblige Eridi's hospitality and relieve him of a few tall glasses of beer. The stranger was easy to be around and immensely charming. At least, that's the way it seemed. Being brothers, of course Aldric knew what to say and how to say it. What's more, Aldric was well acquainted with insomnia, depression and all of Eridi's demons. So, he was more able than others to assuage these maladies... though beer and clever conversation helped a great deal. He wished more than once that he could cast of his mask and reveal his identity. And longed to be afforded the same warmth and comfort that he was able to give Eridi. It was better this way. He'd felt himself slipping away from the world for too long, and this mortal visage of his kept him anchored.

His gaze lingered overlong at the shadow his boot cast on the wall. He wagged his toe once to make sure. A wan smile crossed his lips as his shadow responded in kind. It was like the sense of falling one gets in bed and he was sick of it; always slipping through the world, always behind or below what's solid. Even if he never gained full control of his powers, it was wonderful to have a respite.

"Stare all you like, I promise you won't dredge up the memory of my face. Wouldn't I tell you if we'd met?"

Good dark beer: it soothes the mind in ways that only shrugging off the burden of intellect can. Just the right amount is akin to setting your brain down on the coffee table for the night. It's there if you need it, but it's nice for a while... when your head is much lighter. Easily, it ranked within the top three of Aldric's favorite mortal pleasures.

"Ah! Your brew has nearly made me forget my business. I was interested in financing an opera house here in Hub... Hyb. Perhaps here in the south I'll find some decent voices. Northern girls... they sound like they're at the bottom of a pond... I mean... what's so hard about the letter R? Impossible to find a good soprano."

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-23, 10:57 AM

Celestan is Visited by his Uncle

"Welcome to Shachar Halls! Right this way!"

The girl who welcomed Garadiel was strangely familiar, as if he had known her in another life. She wore but skimpy clothing, and was most pleasing to the eye, although she seemed very innocent and not at all aware of that fact. Most peculiar was her feathered wings of bright orange and red colors. She skipped about the Hall and quickly opened the doors to the inner sanctum, a wide and chaotic room containing statues of mortal men and women, fiery relics, many desert plants, two seats and a world globe between them.

"Thank you Sun."

The young girl smiled and blushed as she took a last look at Garadiel before leaving the sanctum and closing the doors behind her. Celestan stepped forward, examining this new relative. Once he spotted the mark on his uncle's cheek, there was no doubt about his identity.

"Uncle Garadiel! I am so happy to finally meet you! What took you so long?"

The god of fire and hope offered him a seat. He then presented him with a plate and a tiny cup which held a thick black brew.

"You've been away from Negeb a long time uncle. Have you tasted this marvel from the mountain tribes? They call it coffee. It's bold, just as I like it! Here, let me heat it up for you."

---

A Few Months Earlier
Kingdom of Hifu, Iuvenis

It is well known that the central and northern kingdoms used to be plagued by a host of cursed animals that had spread from Toukoku, most notably a flock of diseased, fiendish sparrows. Many farmers had been forced to move, losing most of their possessions to the swarm. But there was one family that refused to leave their land, and resisted bravely; they were the Chio. It was said that the first Chio ancestor had settled the hills of Hifu before anyone else, even before the Kensei Raia grappled thunder, braving the wilderness and the elements in a world without gods. The Chio family had never sought power in the region, but was known as a pillar of stability and a guardian of traditions of Hifu. Thus it was no surprise that the Chio stood last before the demonic host.

The sparrows came and went, attacking the crops and retreating constantly. The Chio patriarch installed several scarecrows sprinkled with holy water on the fields, and invited wandering druids, clergymen and magicians to help protect the crops. But few responded to his plea, and even when they did, none of the rituals seemed to have the desired effect of putting a stop to the sparrows' activities in the region. The Chio family worked hard, crafting more elaborate scarecrows to replace those that had been wrecked, patrolling the land day and night, and praying. And just as they thought they didn't have it in them to continue the fight, a stranger walked through their door. He wore a headband and a heavy tunic; although his clothes looked dirty and worn, and his face seemed covered in soot, he was most kind and cheerful. He offered to help with chores in exchange for a roof and warm meal. The patriarch, most surprised, asked the man if he knew of the risks; there was no guarantee this house would still hold a few weeks from now. The stranger replied that the story of their family had inspired him greatly, and although he himself couldn't bring as much to their struggle as a priest or a warrior, he thought the least he could do was to provide the Chio with some support. And his support was well needed indeed, and the patriarch accepted the man in his home.

The Everyman - such was the nickname the Chio found for the stranger who claimed to have no name - proved himself most capable in a variety of domestic tasks. He very rarely worked alone, prefering to spend most of his time alongside the family members. He seemed to complement each of them in a faultless way. He was also a very good listener, always eager to learn more about them, their fears and their hopes, to hear their stories and their jokes. He played with dolls with the youngest daughters; practiced kendo with crude shinai made by the oldest son's hands; served as the perfect assistant to the mother when she baked her famous apple pie; stood at the front line with the patriarch, armed only with a pitchfork, to push back the sinister beasts of Toukoku. Then, a fateful day, exactly two weeks since the Everyman's arrival, the Chio family woke up to disturbing sounds outside their house. Their visitor was nowhere to be seen. As they opened the front door, they were shocked to find demonic bird corpses laid on the ground, and the remaining flock flying far away from the farm.

"Look daddy! A note's nailed to the door!"

The patriarch frowned and took the piece of paper. It read:

I apologize for leaving so suddenly; I am needed elsewhere. I feel like I cannot thank your family enough for their hospitality. The Chio are truly the kindest and strongest people I've had the pleasure of meeting! I hope you will appreciate my small present. It's not much, I've simply made some modifications to the guardians of the fields during the night.

You have my eternal gratitude. Farewell, good Chio!

Signed,
The Everyman

The patriarch wondered what it all meant until his wife pulled his arm. The father looked up and saw one of his scarecrows waving at him, holding a dead sparrow in his other hand.

The living scarecrows, now called Kuebiko, appeared all over Iuvenis; although far from numerous, they were extremely helpful in fighting back monsters and brigands. And although they never had any proof of their god's involvement in these affairs, the Aptok-un-Shiuk felt Celestan's holy presence in their homes and in their land after that day.

1 major act to create the Kuebiko, animated scarecrows halfway between a monster race and minor artifacts; to be described in the status thread

---

The Coming of Winter in Mittara

As Nari looked through the window, she noticed the most peculiar thing: it stopped snowing in a radius around the house, and the snow on the ground rapidly melted. Then, the light of the Spirit Lamp went out, plunging Nari into darkness for a few seconds, enough to disturb the young woman and have her fear the worst for her people. But suddenly there was a white flash, and the light was returned to the lamp, now significantly brighter. On a chair sat a man of obsidian skin and flaming hair, although the door and the window remained closed. Wisps of smoke rised from his body.

"I know of your plight, brave and devout Nari. Child of exile, bride of the Sea Dragon, jewel of the Steppes. Your prayers have been answered, although what got me here was first and foremost your pure and burning spirit! You are quite a woman, Nari of the Aptok-un-Shiuk."

Celestan smiled and presented her with a cup of coffee.

White Blade

2010-08-23, 01:30 PM

Garadiel took the cup gratefully and placed it to his lips, drinking a bit of it. It was far more bitter than anything he had tasted, being used to the sour fruit drinks of the Greenmaw Islands. He took it with stride however and drank it at an even pace. He looked up at his nephew, his eyes watching his every move. He wasn't much like Raia OR Sovvenia, though he had a bit of the conviction that had been in Sovvenia's steps in her later life and from what Garadiel's worshipers had informed him of, he was as concerned with mortals as Raia had been, maybe even more so.

Garadiel looked at his nephew, his steady stare being an unnerving display of the focus he gained when he learned to speak True Speech. He enjoyed seeing his nephew, even if he looked little enough like Sovvenia or Raia. His feet tap restlessly, because that is what Garadiel does when he is nervous and cannot pace. He is thinking about what to say, what to ask. His nephew burns with fire and he is the god of ashes reborn, of restoration from destruction. Garadiel is impressed, to say the least.

How much do you know? he asked at long last, inquiring of how much Celestan knew about the quest his mother had been given, about the Heralds of the Tree, and about Rognir's death and the battle. Garadiel himself had not been able to be present, and he would sincerely like to know.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-23, 02:02 PM

The Hall of Dawn

Celestan drank the entire cup even though it was still burning hot. So that is the fabled True Speech... How disturbing, and boring, he thought.

"I'm not really familiar with divine affairs, I'm afraid. Much of what I know comes from reading this book."

Celestan took out Sovvenia's work, We, Children of the World volume I.

"There are some interesting stories of our family in there, but as you know she wasn't allowed to write about her quest. She didn't leave any hints as to what were her plans - or yours for that matter. It's the Spirit of Memories' legacy, that's all. I was as much surprised as the others when the Green Maw showed up at the Battle of the Tree. I'm sorry for the loss of Rognir. He was my grandfather, and I love all of my family equally, but I didn't know him as much as you did. I was heartbroken when I saw uncle Ateris and grandfather charge and kill each other. Such a waste of life and potential, that was! Such a dreadful loss for our family... "

Celestan clenched his fist.

"And all for what? Are we better off now? Is the world better now? I'd guess not. They both seemed to be noble souls, only misguided in some of their actions. If only they realized that we basically all want the same thing, instead of fighting like power hungry madmen. Hmm, excuse my language. It's just one of the annoying thing gods tend to do. I've also seen and fought Heradi...that one seemed really deranged. Anyway! How are things going for you Garadiel? Not here to announce a coming apocalypse I hope!"

The nephew smiled to his uncle. It was a honest, playful smile. Strangely, if Celestan appeared concerned a moment ago, it was all gone the next. But there seemed to be something else, something very subtle...something like suspicion. There was no way to be sure.

White Blade

2010-08-23, 02:21 PM

Garadiel shook his head at the mention of a coming apocalypse. Not yet. Not yet. There was much in his head at the moment, much... something. Not the drum beat, the weak but steady pulse of which Garadiel had long since gotten used to. He has been thinking for a long time, these past eight years. He wants to know everything that happened to his father, on that last day. But he does not ask about that, his nephew has not provided him with the answers he seeks in any meaning. He looks at the book though, with some frustration. He wonders what his sister wrote in it, what secrets she bound up within it.

And what do we want, nephew? Garadiel asks, his tone skeptical. There are a thousand different answers to that question. There is the dreamer, defeated and beaten, there is Aldric and Calantha, standing alive and well, there is Eridi clutching something that gleams with light and stinks of creation, there is the World Tree, standing tall and unashamed. There is a paradise world and a world of power and a world filled with hope. There are dreams so different they can't be reconciled, a triumphant lording warrior standing over his defeated siblings. There are worse dreams still, and darkness and murder and desperate will.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-23, 02:59 PM

Celestan stopped a moment to think.

"I don't claim I know anything about individual motivations and goals. But I feel deep down that we all want love. Yes, even Heradi and Kylfa-Madur. Some simply have an overinflated love for themselves and block the love from others. And, you know, hate is directly related to love... To me, a truly mad man is not the person who hates everyone else...but rather the one who turned completely indifferent to the world and others. Love is a powerful thing. It creates and destroys, all the same. It is the moving force - no, i believe it is movement. I can tap into the collective love of mortals, one of the greatest thing in the world, and I can only be very grateful for that. "

Celestan coughed some smoke.

"Unfortunately, the reality of becoming a god tends to distort perceptions, and give us a sense of superiority, and a desire to rule. Both which usually create a barrier to true love."

Kasanip

2010-08-24, 08:38 AM

Nari and the Fire God

Nari turned in awe as the presence and warmth of Celestan, God of Fire, filled the room. The lamp in her hands burned strongly, and she felt as if for the moment, the fears and troubles that were on her were gone. As he spoke her name, Nari stirred out of her awe and bowed before him in the Shiuk way and offered up the Lamp she had been holding.

She had entered and witnessed the Palace of Sea Dragon, and it had been beautiful and amazing, but he was not a son of Rognir with this light and passion, and he was not Celestan, whose light and grace had saved the Aptok-un-Shiuk, and whom they worshiped as their Patron deity.

But Nari looked up from her averted eyes in surprise as Celestan named her, and in offering her Coffee, she was uncertain how to react. Taking it as gracefully and gratefully as she could, she drank the hot drink, though it was bitter and a strange taste to her. But it was warm, and now the cold of winter seemed far away from her here.

"My lord, you heard my prayers, and I am grateful. I am just a helpless child compared you, Celestan who gave this Lamp to us.

It is my hope that I might see the home of my heritage, and so I came from Caer Faol in the far north, but as you know, my story is changed. I hope that it is the Aptok-un-Shiuk who have not fallen to such trouble that I have. I dare not take a ship north, for I don't know my Star's fate, but to the Sea King I gave my word to be a dutiful treasure, should I return to his palace, and I do not desire this.
But I have traded one chain for another, and now here I am, trapped by winter and a nobleman, telling such sad stories to Lord Celestan of the Flame, as if to hope for pity and comfort!"

"If only I had the strength of a deity in my blood!" She sighed. Nari's sad expression was moving in it's earnest appeal. But then she shook her head. Nari looked up with hopeful eyes and a flame of determination that was fed by the Lamp.

"I am sorry, forgive my foolishness and my despair, Lord Celestan. But I must ask you, what should I do? How might I learn to be stronger, so that I will not fail?"

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-24, 09:20 AM

Nari and the Fire God

Celestan put down the spirit lamp on a table and smiled. His hand reached to Nari's face.

"That's better! No one needs to avert their eyes when speaking to me. I'm not like the old gods; I don't need to pull mortals down just to feel superior! Your blood is as strong as Rognir's, as far as I'm concerned. You have the potential of greatness; we simply need to make it bloom. That is why I'm here.

Don't worry about your people; they can survive any ordeal. As for you, I cannot pretend to know what you destiny entails. But! It's definitely a waste for you to stay here, as a nobleman's trophy. I intend this to change.

Celestan got up and examined the young woman. He felt a very unique connection to this mortal, but he couldn't tell exactly why.

"If you will, I'll go with you and cross the remaining kingdoms separating you from your people. Winter never stopped me, and it shouldn't stop you. I will be appearing as a commoner - what about your servant? - and while I will advise you and teach you what you need to know to become greater, there will be hard choices that only you can make.

Now tell me, Nari of the Aptok-un-Shiuk, what is your greatest strength?"

Kasanip

2010-08-24, 09:56 AM

Nari and the Fire God

Nari looked surprised by Celestan's response. Her heart was strengthened by the God's touch and she felt a surge of confidence with his promise, and joy at his suggestion. But she was shocked as well.

"A-as my servant? My lord Celestan, I- I can't agree to such a thing!" She protested. Nari had never had a servant, and though she had seen how they might be at Caer Faol, or the treatment here in the Noble's employ, to imagine a God to be such a thing for her...

But how could she go against his word and his offer?
"Please, Lord Celestan, if you would choose to travel with me, let it not be like a servant!" She implored. "I do not think I could keep such a disguise and absently say your name or reveal you. But I will listen to your every word and advice, though I don't know my own way."

And she thought. What was her greatest strength? For one's God to ask this question to a young woman like this.... She was not sure. Surely she had been called a beauty and charming many times, but this was not a skill to be proud of as a greatest strength, was it?

"I don't know Lord Celestan." She replied with a little shame, as she clutched her dress with her hands. "If I have one thing, I hope it is a noble heart that does not fail in it's hopes." And then she thought about the people she had come so far with. "Maybe it is my trusting to hope?" She wondered aloud, feeling a small blush to her face.

White Blade

2010-08-24, 01:02 PM

Garadiel thinks about it for what seems like a long time, though the ancient God hardly thinks it so. Patience and thought are his trademarks, as the years turn, and he has not been hasty since he learned of its consequences after Shale, Perhaps, Garadiel acknowledges, not really seeming against or for the idea, as if he is tucking it away for later thought, Humor me, then, what happened the day my father died? it is clear from his words that he wants to know everything, everything that happened that day. He wishes to know why his brother killed his father, and how the sky was healed, and why the earth beneath the tree was infected, and how his brother died.

Verdant's Quest (Some ten years later.)
The youth smiled at his father, even as they trained late into the night. Garadiel was not an expert swordsman among his siblings, but that did not mean that he wasn't good. His practice blade cleaved, and the circling of duelists continued. They were fighting, and Garadiel was getting tired. Verdant, however, was still as peerless as ever. He was so talented with his blade that Garadiel could not help being reminded of Rognir and Raia. Then Verdant pressed and Garadiel couldn't escape, his leg struck by Verdant's sword he stumbled. Verdant laughed as Garadiel fell and swift as lightning his practice blade was at his father's neck. Garadiel smiled up at his son, even as he gestured defeat. Verdant reached out his hand to help him up and Garadiel stood smiling.

Garadiel smiled at his son before his eye caught something falling, falling through the air without wind to blow it but sweeping towards Verdant. It struck him in the eye and Verdant fell trembling to his knees. He had been called. Today was the day. Garadiel had awaited it for years. He knew that Verdant would be ready, and had begun to wonder when he should send him out. But today he was called by the World Tree, and Garadiel was glad. He helped his son up and told him he was proud, told him that he loved him.

Verdant lifted the leaf gingerly, just as Garadiel had done centuries before. Garadiel motions to him and Verdant follows, carry the leaf all the while. Laughter sees them and rushes and hugs her son goodbye. There are tears in her eyes as she does so, but not too many, because she knew this day would come.

Verdant and Garadiel took a boat out, through the ring of storms, and stood before the World Tree, though they dared not step on its shores. Verdant stood before it and announced his intentions.

"World Tree, Mother of All That Is, I have heard Your calling, and I shall answer it. I shall not leave You unprotected, nor shall I leave You alone. I will go now and prepare a guard for Your protection, and I will ready myself to stand as Your chief watchman, against all Your many foes. This is my oath to You, which I give to You, before the stars." Then he turns to his father and nods, consenting. Garadiel takes the leave from his hand and binds it to a cord like vine, and places the vine over his son's head, so that the leaf now hangs next to his heart. And then he waves his hand, and a mighty wind rushes over Verdant, and the stars watch as he departs, just as the Children of Rognir did all those many years ago,

The_Snark

2010-08-25, 05:41 AM

7 Years Ago

One day the thought came to Lilike that her father had abandoned more than simply his tower.

That night she stood at the window of the highest chamber and called to one of the great owls of the mountains, and hearing its secret name from afar the owl flew with all due haste to answer its master's call. But when it reached the tower at the edge of the World, the Owl's keen eyes saw someone who was not its master, heard a voice that was not its master's voice. The Owl shrieked in fury at being so deceived, and every small and furry thing within miles fell dead with fear at that cry. Swift as a shadow it dived, snatching up the intruder in its terrible talons; for owls are proud beasts, and do not suffer liars gladly.

But Lilike had foreseen this, for she learned much of the creatures of the night when she learned their secret names; and she knew too that if Kylfa-Madur's tower did not welcome her command, neither would his loyal servants. The terrible claws found no purchase on her skin, could not draw blood; though they squeezed with force to crack an elephant's bones, they could not crack hers. Perplexed, the Owl bent to peer at its stubborn morsel with huge round eyes, and Lilike struck, flinging a spider-silk noose around its neck.

The Owl saw nothing, for the silk was so thin as to be practically invisible, but it felt the noose settle, and reared up, beating its wings at the invisible thread round its neck- to no avail. The spider which gave that silk was deadly beyond its size, for its webs could ensnare even a fully-grown man; and by the tower's arts it had been made a thousand times stronger. The noose slipped tighter, and the Owl now turned to flee, for there is nothing a bird fears more than being caught. It launched itself into the night, and Lilike went with it, clinging to the great bird's leg.

Back in the tower there stood an effigy, which resembled Lilike greatly; but its flesh was clay, its bones straw, and it had no soul. On its brow was Lilike's name, written in fresh wet blood; and upon her brow was the sign of the effigy, drawn in wet clay from its body. Until those names dried and faded, each would suffer all harms in the other's stead. So it was that Lilike stood unharmed by the great bird's wrath, while the effigy lay on the floor, rent and crushed by claws that had never touched it.

The Owl shrieked again in anger as it realized how it had been tricked, but Lilike had hold of the noose around its neck. How could it fight? She commanded it to fly East, and when it balked tugged cruelly upon the impromptu leash; and grudgingly the Owl recognized the best way to be rid of this damnable creature was to deliver it where it wished to go. With great beats of its wings it flew eastwards, and its speed was such that the wind threatened to tear Lilike from her perch. But she clung tightly, and her muscles did not fail, for it was the effigy's arms that grew weak and sore from the effort, not hers.

Hours they flew. Lilike was glad indeed when the lights of the great city of the West appeared before them, for the wind had dried the clay mark on her brow. Soon it would blow to dust, and she had no desire to discover how long her strength would last. She tugged downward, and the Owl plunged towards the lights, eager to be rid of her.

There it left her, and she was in the greatest city in all the world, the seat of the God Kings. She walked among its people, and learned (as she had suspected) that it was the seat of the God Kings no more, for neither Sword nor Shield of Mortalkind had been seen since the fleet set sail, and no ships had returned to bring word of victory in the East. Lilike saw that the people were fearful. The journey east was long, but not that long. The war would be terrible, but what force could halt mighty Ateris and dreadful Kylfa-Madur? Fear stirred, and already some wept that the God Kings must be dead, or they would never have abandoned their city so. The city's governor kept the peace, but the more he had to do, the more unrest stirred.

When Lilike came to the palace, she told the guards that she was Kylfa-Madur's daughter, and none dared gainsay her—not while the sun was down. When she came to the door of the throne room, the guards exchanged glances, but she was permitted into the empty chamber.

When she sat on the steps beneath the jewel-encrusted throne and said she would be regent, they sent for the city governor.

White Blade

2010-08-25, 12:13 PM

Verdant, son of Garadiel, son of Rognir, landed on the ground of a forest in central Iuvenis, in the nation of Hith along the southern border, though he did not know this at the time. He was wholly unarmed and unprepared, though this had been part of the plan. Verdant had known he would need to acquire. But now was not the time. He saw lanterns flickering in the distance, so he walked towards them silently.

There is a small force of men, clearly armed for battle, walking in near-total silence save for half-whispered prayers for the Red Wind. Verdan paused, confused. Hadn't his father said that his cousin had attended to these things? Hadn't he said that the Scourge was godless now, that Heradi had fallen and had not returned? But Verdant did not know that this group of the Scourge had been formed by one of Heradi's sons, and that it was lead by discontented noble youths, who used it as an excuse to self-righteously rape and pillage. Heradi would be so proud.

But he did, at least, overhear the directions to the town they were headed for, and he went out ahead of them. When he reached the village, a great darkness hung over it and only one guard stood ready. In great urgency he cried out, "The scourge is coming! The scourge is almost here!" The guard looked startled, and though he stared at the stranger momentarily he was swift in his response. "All awaken!" he shouted as he moved through the town, urging them to gather their spears and hide heir families.

Soon, the whole of the town's men were gathered together, and Verdant stood with them. One of the prominent men of the town went up to him, his facegrave in the darkness, "We do not have any weapons to spare boy," he muttered, "Why do you remain? Flee, hide with our women and children. We appreciate your help, but you getting stabbed will do us no good."

"My lord," Verdant said respectfully, "I am more than armed enough, and they are far better armed then you, therefore, I shall stand with you. Do not worry, for the favor of the gods is on me and you this day,"

The man looked puzzled, but in the end he dropped it. He left Verdant standing alone, as the men of the town readied themselves. Soon, all too soon, the Scourge arrived. They were far better armed, and it seemed to the men of the town as if they were doomed, but they had to fight, and so they did.

When the Scourge at last reached the ranks of the town, Verdant took one down with a swift kick that crushed his chest beneath his arm and took out his heart. He stole the man's sword, which was made of iron, and joined the battle all the more vigorously. Verdant moved against his foes with the grace and focus of a perfected warrior, his blade finding easy purchase in his enemy's backs, chests, and necks. Whenever he felled one, he would take his weapon, for the iron blades were subjected to damage by being slammed through the breast plates of his enemies for them to be of use to Verdant more than once or twice.

Soon, Verdant was in conflict with the captain of his enemy's and he took his blade and decapitated him. At this, the enemy broke rank and fled, even as the townspeople's angry spears found places in their back. That battle over Verdant turned to see the townspeople gatherig their dead in the early light of dawn, and he knew this was only the beginning.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-25, 01:52 PM

Celestan and Garadiel

And thus Celestan told the story of the darkest day of the world. He told of his fight at the Pole against Heradi, helped by Faolan; of the four divine generals; of a terrible, bloody battle before the World Tree; of Rognir's and Ateris' deaths; of Orgo, Shen and Eridi who finally moved the sun back on its course. And finally Celestan spoke of the firstborn, whom Rognir presumably killed to defend the world against Those Who Wait Beyond.

---

Celestan and Nari

"Alright then. Not a servant. Let me see..."

Celestan left the room at a rapid pace; when he got back he was wearing a heavy, grey cloak, a large hat and a fake beard.

"I will be your bodyguard. A man of the Grey Watch. Sir Lancelot the Brave; yes that name sounds good, doesn't it?"

Celestan walked past Nari and opened the window.

"Get your belongings and get dressed, it's chilly out there, even with me around. Take those boots I left for you, next to the bed."

Celestan lept out the window - which thankfully was not very high - and landed on a patch of melted slow.

"A pure heart, yes, that's your strength. But tell me, Nari, how should one choose his own path in life? Hope is a wonderful thing, but one must sometime make his or her own luck, don't you think?"

ArlEammon

2010-08-25, 03:09 PM

hi-mi-tsu

2010-08-25, 04:34 PM

The forging of the Star Mirror

Calantha follows Eridi into the forges, hands clasped together in front of her; making the mirror is a delicate, painstaking process, that takes the rest of the night. Her blood mingles with the metals Eridi pours into the frame, to bind her to it; it is the only way she knows to make it a powerful enough artifact to absorb the stars themselves. And in the burnished metal, there is only darkness; this mirror does not reflect the world around it, but rather shows the alternate world where the stars will be held.

The goddess exhaustedly thanks her brother, when the creation is complete; she takes the miniature mirror, the failsafe, and carefully ties it around Eridi's neck.

"You have helped me a great deal, brother...if there is ever anything I can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask me." She gestures to Eithne, and they leave as the sun breaks over the horizon; three days later, she is home, and she gives the young woman the mirror.

"Take this to the observatory. Be careful with it!"

"My Lady..." Calantha glances up, and for a moment she does not recognize the Fae in front of her; then the world shifts, and her mind remembers.

"Odiana. Can I help you?"

"My Lady, you have a...visitor. In the temple."

Odiana's hesitation piques Calantha's curiosity; she follows the Fae priestess into the cool marble of her temple and, seeing North, stands in silence as she observes him. He is the visitor...it is up to him to make the first remark, though something about him is distinctly unsettling.

The_Snark

2010-08-26, 05:38 AM

Six Years Ago

Around the golden table sat six children of the God Kings. It was a fine sight: each was grand in his or her own way, beautiful or strong or clever. They were garbed in finery, and the halls of their fathers shone around them.

Ateris and Kylfa-Madur were not dead, of course. They were the God Kings and could not die, this was self-evident. The war in the East had been won, the demon Rognir slain, but such was that being's wickedness that he threatened to topple the lords of the Underworld. Kylfa-Madur in his wisdom had foreseen this, and Ateris with his strength had opened the way, and the two descended into the nether realm accompanied by the best and bravest of their armies. There they battled Rognir, and would do so for all of time, keeping the greatest enemy of man at bay. Though the people of the West wept at their loss, they also rejoiced at this victory, and swore to remember this sacrifice always. Ateris and Kylfa-Madur would remain kings of the West in perpetuity.

So ran the official story. But of course somebody needed to maintain order in the meantime, and it seemed right and fitting that the children of the God Kings safeguard their fathers' holdings—one for Ateris, one for Kylfa-Madur. This was the proposition Lilike had put before the city governor several months ago, and he, seeing an opportunity, had agreed to go along with it. Criers had been sent with the news: Lilike would stand in Kylfa-Madur's stead and slay the enemies of the west, and Ba Shaan would stand in Ateris's and guard the people.

The problem was that Ateris had many children. No-one had come forward to challenge Lilike's claim, for which she was grateful—quite aside from keeping her position secure, it was nice to know that her mother must have, at one time, held a special place in her father's mind. Ba Shaan had not been so lucky.

Lilike watched her erstwhile partner try to maintain a proper polite smile, and felt as though she ought to wince, for it was a very poor attempt. Ba Shaan took after his father in many ways: he was a large man, strong and swift, and many men respected his skill in battle. Ateris had made him first commander of the palace guard and later regent of the city, and that was an honor indeed... but it was a distinctly lesser honor than Ateris had given the Four Divine Generals. One did not need to look deeply to see that being left behind when his father sailed to war had wounded Ba Shaan's pride, and he was the kind of man who became angry when he was wounded. The worm of ambition ate away at his heart, and this was how Lilike had won him over. But he could not accept this challenge to his position with good grace.

"You understand, brother, that we do not seek to cast doubt on your capability," said the second prince. His name was Aradoch, and he was the governor of the northern coast, and like Ba Shaan was a son of Ateris. He had won his position from his father's hand long before the God Kings departed east, and no doubt he knew exactly how this irritated Ba Shaan, who had only been granted rulership in Ateris's absence. Nothing escaped Aradoch's eyes, particularly not weakness. In nature he was much like the rapier he bore at his belt: he was tall and thin and cold, endlessly patient but swift to strike at the heart when the opportunity presented itself. "Merely your seniority."

Ba Shaan's eyes glittered with anger, but he held his temper. He was not a fool, and he saw his elder brother's feint for what it was. "Seniority? Our mighty father granted me stewardship over this city in his absence, brother. The heart of the empire. Does that not make me senior? A king rules from the center, not the edges. Since we need a regent, it stands to reason that it ought to be me, who rules the center already. Til our father returns, of course."

"If he had meant for you to rule in perpetuity, he would have said so," said the third prince. Like the others he was a son of Ateris, but it did not show in his bearing- he was not broad like Ba Shaan or tall like Aradoch, but thin and hungry-looking. He was no great warrior, but he was learned and very clever with numbers, and by these virtues he had become governor of the Great Harbor on the eastern coast. Despite this token of trust from his father, he had little respect from his siblings, and there was much bitterness in him. "Did he? I think not. He trusted you with the city, not the entire empire."

"He did not say otherwise," Ba Shaan said with a glare for his brother. There was no love lost between the warrior and the scrivener. "That he did not send word to replace me speaks of his trust in me."

"Send word in the middle of a war? Don't be dense," said the fourth prince scornfully. In fact this was a princess, but wise men did not call her that. Varis resembled her brother Aradoch in many ways: she was tall and lean and hard of muscle, and lightning-swift to strike when a foe left himself open. But her blood ran hot where his was cold; men feared Aradoch for his calculating nature, but they quailed before her terrible temper. Her domain was a city to the South, nearly as large as this one. "You don't send men and ships away right before a battle."

And this was, from her, restrained. Lilike judged that she was the most likely to bring up the subject everybody was avoiding, which was also the subject that had brought them here today. Four armies were camped outside the walls, one for each of Ateris' children who sought to contest Ba Shaan's claim of regency. And yet everybody was carefully not mentioning this critical fact, maneuvering around it like dancers trying to ignore an elephant in the ballroom.

Lilike's eyes drifted to the fifth prince. Ba Lutei was Ba Shaan's twin, and like him strong and broad of build. Unlike him she was difficult to rouse to anger, or any other emotion, and so far she had been silent. Perhaps she found it hard to speak against her brother; Lilike did not know the two well, but surely twins would be closer to one another than to their many other siblings. Yet she had brought one of those four armies to field against him. Curious.

"... you were hardly his first choice," Varis was saying. "You were just the one with the least responsibilities. If he trusted you to rule he'd have appointed you before, and he didn't; he appointed us. You got the job because he was leaving and needed somebody in a hurry. Simple as that." Hissai twitched, for his position was just as recent as Ba Shaan's; he'd replaced Liafis, who had been chosen to accompany their father East.

So concerned with propriety, Lilike mused; so concerned with what Father would have thought! Or at least with appearing to be so concerned. Lilike couldn't help but imagine a group of crows, trying to be decorous as they squabbled over who got to pluck the eyeballs from a fresh corpse. No matter how delicately they put it or how fine their words, it would not be proper. Nothing they did today would win their father's approval, unless they came to a peaceful agreement, and she judged that to be about as likely as goats learning to fly. They might as well turn to the armies and have the sordid business over more quickly.

Not that she was complaining; it was a wonderful chance to study her foes and allies, and decide which was which.

"Despite my sister's charming manner, she has a point," Aradoch said drily, earning himself a glare. Lilike felt like applauding; with that little joke at Varis's expense, he diluted Ba Shaan's anger with amusement, and directed what was left of it at Varis, making himself seem less of an enemy—yet he had not conceded an inch of ground. "We have ruled longer, and larger domains at that. We have more experience. It is only logical that one of us govern."

"It would be against Father's wishes," maintained Ba Shaan stubbornly, at which point Hissai made a snide remark about Ba Shaan confusing his father with himself, and the argument went in circles much like that for the next several hours.

No agreement was made. The four princes departed the city at evening (Lilike commented on the foolishness of allowing enemies to go free, but received only a sour look in reply), and returned to their armies to prepare a siege. Thus began the War of the Five Princes.

Kasanip

2010-08-26, 06:31 AM

Nari and the Fire God

There is a certain amount of surprise from the young woman of the Aptok-un-Shiuk - mostly because still the idea of talking to one's Gods is a strange one. The stories and the legends she has heard since her birth of Celestan certainly made him into a heroic figure, but she couldn't help feeling like she was stumbling along behind someone who was always moving forward- like a horse that runs on it's own willfully here and there while the rider comes with. She did barely have a chance to think of the name, and the thought of the Grey Watch reminded her of her childhood. Yes, that would be ok, she thought.

And then Celestan went out the window, so she had no choice now. A feeling of excitement went through her, and she changed her clothes and put her feet into the warm boots that the Fire God had put at her bed. They were far warmer than even her wear from Caer Faol, though that was lost now in the palace of the Dragon King. She took up the spirit lantern again, and now her pace was faster. No one wishes for a cage.

She came to the window, and looking down only paused to guess the height. But she jumped, because as Celestan had said, one surely must make choices of action if they are to be free in life.

The Fire God caught her effortlessly and putting her down, they started to walk out into the night, but Nari turned and looked up at him, as she held a dark cloak around herself.

"It is true that we must choose our own path. To make our own luck.... that is an idea I have never thought of. If fortune is such a thing, then perhaps to make it requires someone to be active to pursue it, know it, and then to master it. A-at least, that is how I always thought of how a God might do such a thing."

She looked away to hide the blush on her face. Being silent for a few minutes as they walked, she thought more about the words. Luck seemed to come in the strangest of ways to her.

"Fortune has been strange to me. I was born a refugee, yet blessed with beauty and charm. I grew up without significant need, but yet it never was filling the emptiness in me. I was lost at sea and made a treasure of the Dragon King, but I escaped unharmed to shore. And then I was imprisoned here, but have met you, lord Celestan.

I don't know how the stars above govern fate, or what the difference is between fate and luck, but perhaps it is a meaning of action. To be born a refugee or blessed with looks or the blood one has - that isn't fortune. It's fate. But for me...I guess I have taken some control of my life. The journey across the sea, my escape of the Dragon King, my journey north to here. But in my doubt I had no one else to turn to but you. I should not doubt myself, because surely I have made it through more difficult times. Maybe my answer to you is that fortune comes from action based on hope. And for something that comes to one, perhaps it is mirrored in another mysterious way."

She smiled a charming smile and settled into a pace next to the brave Lancelot of the Grey Watch.

"Perhaps I might say it is fortunate my prayers are answered, and yet, that nobleman's desires are now crushed by the same action. I wonder, is that the nature of fortune?"

White Blade

2010-08-26, 10:24 AM

North
North's frost bitten eyes do not show any emotion when he sees Calantha, nor do they even seem to reflect her face. It is as if the light is caught on their inside, and Calantha cannot help but feel that she witnesses a creature made more from idea, from concept, then from and shape. It reminds her of Echo, though she has none of the fondness towards this creature that she does towards Echo. He speaks, and his voice feels like glaciers, frozen and immovable, I have a message, mi'lady, that comes from your father, where should you wish to hear it?

East
East thanked Shen Shi Zhu for his great generosity and bowed low, departing westward to the House on the Greenmaw Islands

Garadiel Imparts His Feelings
Garadiel listens silently all the while, taking in the word. He comments only once during the whole story when he applauds Celestan's success at managing to end the Southern Battle without having to kill anyone, and of winning a convert of a son of Ateris to the side of the general good and not the hosts of the West. Celestan knows that his uncle practically beams with pride and joy over this great success.

But when Celestan reaches the end of this story, Garadiel's eyes grow dark (though not literally so) and his face seems to somehow catch a deep shadow even though there is ample light. Perhaps it is a trick of the eyes, or some divine magic Celestan does not know, but there it is. His words are grave, even as he speaks them, No, there is utter disbelief, rejection of the idea that Rognir would ever kill one of his children who had done no wrong. It was Rognir's character to protect his children, Garadiel well knew. He had born the brunt of such anger in his time.

Privately, he believes that Rognir is the father of A'gap, that explained much of his father's speech at the edge of the world of laying with the most beautiful of the beasts that he had made, before the gods had taken their seats on their thrones... What others were children of Rognir? Was Ziz? The Leviathon? Ligbryne? The Behemoth? The Wolf? The Wolf. It was the wolf. Garadiel knew it.

Verdant
Verdant is kneeling before the local lord, being presented by the mayor of the town he saved. The Lord peers down at him, his face dispassionate, and turns to the mayor he had appointed, "So... You believe this man trustworthy?"

"My lord, I have never seen a man so skilled at arms, nor have I seen one who has better timing, he saved my town from burning, and my wife and children from murder. Yes, I believe him trustworthy."

Lord Acaven looked down at Verdant, who was beginning to grow tired of being on his knees. It had no place in the ways of a god, and he was kneeling not before his ancient grandfather, nor before his wonderful father, nor even before any of his mighty and terrible aunts and uncles. Indeed, he was not even bowing before a king, but some half-pint noble who knew little of the matters of state. His irritation almost showed on his face, but he wore his mask of lies well.

"Rise," said Acaven, peering at the boy, "Where do you come from, young man?"

Verdant smiled, he had practiced this lie a thousand times, "I do not know the name of the isle on which I grew up my lord, nor anything of its location but that it is far east of here. My family has served as the squires of mighty Rognir for a thousand years or more, and we were once sent when it pleased him."

"Alas, on the day of my birth Rognir fell dead and all heard the wailing mourning of the death god, and we knew our work was done. But when I grew old enough, I told my family that I had wished to continue the family work, so they called on the gods with the ancient trumpet Rognir had given them to call for aid, and I was sent here, to this people, to aid them and protect them."

Acaven looked suitably awed, "Sir, had I known that you were sent by the gods, I surely would have not required you to kneel before me."

"Lord, you had no way of knowing, but please refrain from so doing again." Acaven nodded, appreciating the boy's forgiveness. Here was one of the squires of Rognir, a servant of the whole of the divine family, sent to deliver them from the Scourge. He deserved respect.

"Is there anything we might do, to aid you in this holy mission?" Acaven asked, hoping that it was not too much. There was little enough to be spread around as it was.

"Give me fifty men, with whom I might guard this great nation, and I shall see to it that before the year is out, our foes shall be driven before us."

"It will be done," Acaven said respectfully.

Soon, Verdant had fifty young men, none much older then him (and none older than his supposed age), and he sat to work training them on wooden swords. They would need to be ready for the task ahead, but most importantly, they would need to be loyal. For there would come a day when Verdant and his guard left this nation behind, for something better.

Carden

2010-08-26, 04:49 PM

Good drinks and good people made for good times, and Eridi was having a good time. It'd been many years since he let loose and had a few laughs, back when he made his city's first allies in the south. Taking another large drink, he responded to this nameless visitor. "An opera house you say?" Thinking, he laughed to himself, "Yeah, I'm surprised Alarin never thought to bring one here. Let's see, the guild's you'll wanna talk to 'll be... Musician's and Architect's. Everyone enjoys a good song or two, and you're more likely to find wonderful voices here rather than anywhere else, 'cause everyone comes here to trade eventually!"

Holding his mug and looking at it, he contemplated putting it down for business. Ah, I'm already mostly smashed, might as well, he surrendered with another gulp. "Nah, dun worry about any of the initial backing if you need it. I've got a feeling this'll hit it off with locals and visitors alike, I'll cover anything you quite can't. Not many know it, and don't tell 'em or I'll never get any sleep, I own a few of the more prosperous mines and quarries around here. I got a fund if I like an idea or something, and I like your idea."

Eridi - Alone Once More

He had wished his sister farewell hardheartedly. Honestly, he was afraid for her. Soon she would start to steal fate itself and lock it in a box, and Eridi wasn't sure what sort of future that would lead to. He wouldn't let the world die over this, true, but he would die before losing another family member. But now was not the time for worrying about that, dawn was breaking and there was work to be done. Feeling the mirror against his neck, he felt cold at the future it represented.

His storage room held all his failures now, and it was there he went. Creation, Aether, it seemed to require an equal amount of elements in all forms and material, and that's where he had failed. Each gauntlet had been unbalanced, one element dominating the other three. Some had collapsed, some had burnt, a few inverted themselves, but, mostly, it was just that they became inert and useless.

Now was time to try another path, to separate and balance the elements first. This was Eridi's new plan, and he would spend many hours on it before he slept.

hi-mi-tsu

2010-08-26, 10:50 PM

Erimere

Calantha's eyes narrow, and ice enters them; North might be cold, but Calantha was tired, and conflicted.

"My father is dead." Her voice is blank, for the most part, but there was a deep and terrible anger lurking somewhere underneath, that would require very little to be pushed to the surface.

"If you carry a message from him, then you carry a message from the traitor." For a moment, she considers refusing, but...it could be important.

"Come." She leads him to an antechamber, and stands at the far end, arms crossed over her chest.

"Speak swiftly, messenger of he who was once my brother."

White Blade

2010-08-27, 11:07 AM

North
North grimaces when Calantha puts the pieces together. He had figured it was a possibility, and Garadiel had figured it was a possibility, but there had always been the hope that she would at least hear the message before the anger started to burn in her eyes. Yes. I am the messenger of he of whom you speak. But my first priority is the last words your father spoke as your Father, mi'lady. "When the cycle comes around again, you must stop the eternal dreamer again as the rite of passage. Do not let the world fall into decay, do not let it expand into ruin. Do not forget that you are divine, do not forget that you were once mortal. And make this world shine, that those that come after might remember it."

Verdant
Verdant's guard was progressing nicely in their training. Though some clearly weren't up to the military life when it began, Verdant's harsh training regime quickly did away with that. They worked in groups of five, taking to the mock battlefield against each other, climbing and infiltrating stone walls, slipping past sentries, doing any number of other things you might expect from some form specialized commando unit. At one point, Verdant had the whole of his fifty men attack him. None succeeded in so much as landing a blow. Soon, news spread that Verdant was as peerless a swordsman as Rognir himself, and there was rumor that he was actually Rognir reincarnated or that he was a child of Rognir. Whatever the case, it was clear that he was the best warrior this nation had ever seen save perhaps Ulta, the young and now head general of the whole of the nation of Hith.

In time, Verdant's guard was ready. Their muscles were trained, their instincts were honed, and Verdant had taught them how to deal with pain. So they went out and Verdant received intelligence about a meeting of Scourge members, so he and his men scaled the walls of one of the towers of one of the lesser nobles and sure enough, a group of "senior" members were gathered together, discussing the Red Wind over a pint of beer. Verdant and his men slipped in and killed them, choking the ones they could and hanging them from the outside wall with notes in their pockets, written from a mock Red Wind who claimed that his servitors were impure and divided, and until they became pure, he would continue to slay them.

The leader of the Scourge, one Veresi the Swift, heard of it and cursed in frustration. He sent for his men and slew some of them, announcing that they had done justice and the Red Wind had purified them. But soon enough, another group of bodies were hanging from trees in the Southern Forests, and another purge would be necessary.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-27, 11:55 AM

Celestan and Garadiel

Celestan shook his shoulders, not knowing how to react to Garadiel's look of disbelief. He took back Sovvenia's journal, got up and walked to the nearest window, looking West. Someone called out to him, but whom, and for what purpose? A fire so strong, maybe it could be one of the people he sought...

"Is there anything else, uncle? You must be a terribly busy man, I don't want to bother you too long with my chattering."

He turned to Garadiel and smiled.

"What are your plans now?"

---

Nari and the Fire God on a Journey

Celestan conjured a dozen fireflies which buzzed around the two companions as they left the town. Nari soon learned that the boots given to her by the Fire God were enchanted so that her movements would never be hindered by snow or ice.

"Yes, I think you've got a good grasp of what fortune means, or at least, your personal fortune", said Lancelot. "Yet the nobleman might come out of this a better man. Maybe he will change his priorities from now on. Or maybe he will finally notice the charming baker's girl who's madly in love with him, and finally accept to look beyond his social circle. But that all depends on his future actions."

Launcelot the Brave accompanied Nari on the road to the next kingdom of Jidan. No wild animal dared approach the Lord of Fire; bandits fled once they mesured themselves against his flamboyant fighting style. Launcelot proved to be a valuable and really entertaining comrade, playing his part perfectly. He told tales of heroic stands against the hosts of the West, and exotic legends of far away Negeb, such as the banishment of the desert spirit Mifasetz by Sovvenia. He took good care of Nari and offered to guard her all night long, even if he could easily use his divine magic to ward the area, but he prefered not to reveal that. Still, the journey was harsh for the young maiden, even with a god as one's protector. They walked on and one for days. Food was scarce. Even though she wore the magic boots, she advanced slowly; Nari felt as if her people was always so far away. One day, following a rather violent snow storm, Launcelot and Nari arrived at a strange settlement on a hill, near the border of Mittara and Jidan. The first house were low and cubic, made of clay; and there were other houses, build on top of the other ones. To the untrained eye it looked at best like a labyrinth, at worst like a big mess. The place was definitely dirty and chaotic; what Nari could only identify as junk was piled everywhere. The settlement was rather large and crowded, so much that most houses were not accessible by roads, but rather by ladders which went from one roof to another. Most surprising were the creatures that emerged from the holes: ratmen, mostly women and their many younglings. They were still at a distance when Launcelot spoke:

"Nari, take a good look at this village. It is the home of the rat tribe. They have a name in their tongue, but humans never took the time to learn it. They usually consider these creatures dirty, weak, and simply not worth their time or even their pity. Now that is merely what the humans know...or at least think they know. Tell me, Child, what do you see when you look at this?"

hi-mi-tsu

2010-08-27, 12:48 PM

"...Do not forget...?" Calantha stares at North, then begins to laugh; it is a mad sound, a cracked sound, and all those outside the antechamber that hear it flee the temple.

"Do not forget? Perhaps he forgets! Perhaps he forgets that I live with mortality hanging over my head!"

She steps forward, and jabs her finger into North's chest; for a moment, just a moment, the messenger feels the searing pain of a blade sliding home in his heart, and the agony of being trapped in the darkness, with no light and no safety. For a moment he feels as though there is no floor beneath him and no sun above him, as though he will never know the caress of wind on his face or the feel of solid earth beneath his feet. Then the feeling passes, and the goddess steps back, her face a mask of pain and fury and, underneath it, the hurt betrayal of a child who has just been slapped by someone she trusted to never hurt her.

"You go. Get away from me. And you tell him that I will do what I wish for this world, and that I will not let him manipulate me!"

She pauses, and looks at him, and her eyes are bottomless.

"This world will shine. And I will shine with it, in glory or in flame. Now go."

Jair Barik

2010-08-27, 01:20 PM

Nara stood upon the edge of the landas the waves crashed down on the rocks around him, the lightning forking down from the sky. He looked upon the sea, wild and uncontrollable and wondered about the work he had set himself to.

Watching and waiting he new the inevitable would not be long in occuring. A great wave washed the remnants of a small fishing boat up onto the rocks. Walking down into its remains Nara found one of the unfortunate men lost to the waves, and, just as he had done all those many years ago, he walked down and whispered into the bodies ear.

"I have a message for you to take to Garadiel. tell him I wish to speak with him here. I need to meet him to discuss events of these past years. A lot is happening and we would do well to discuss it."

7 Years ago... The lands of the Grey Watch
"Faolan! Son! I wish to speak with you! You will give your old father some time to speak with you will you not?"
He seemed to wander half mad and half wild through the landscape, ice and snow still clinging to his form and the mask in his hand. He would find his son, and speak to him.

White Blade

2010-08-27, 02:05 PM

North
The young creature and for the first time Calantha realizes he must be young, far younger, for his show of discipline shatters as he flinches and winces as he feels the pain of a blade sliding into his heart, though incredibly he does not scream. But then he straightens, and his face grows harsh, Age and death come to all, even your mighty father. He accepted this. Do you think that a dead man, and a far wiser man then any other, does not know mortality better then you? he sees the rage in Calantha's eyes and flinches, like he is afraid to die, but he does not stop speaking, I am not through, and you can kill me if you like, but I will not leave until my messages have all been delivered. My Lord would like to know, if there is anything he might do to win your forgiveness.

Garadiel and Nara
The Fisherman delivers the message to Garadiel and Garadiel nods his head in thanks, guiding him into the Storm. Then he takes he vanishes onto the base of the ancient mountain of his father's house, but he does not climb upward. He lands discretely and seeks out Nara, and when he finds him, he does not call out, merely waves.

Garadiel and Celestan
Garadiel looks up, his head full of thoughts, and when asked if he had any plans at the moment he shakes his head, My father said, When the cycle comes around again, you must stop the eternal dreamer again as the rite of passage. Do not let the world fall into decay, do not let it expand into ruin. Do not forget that you are divine, do not forget that you were once mortal. And make this world shine, that those that come after might remember it. [Good luck Celestan, Garadiel says, his fondest blessing on his good nephew. And then he vanishes in a puff of something like stardust, for there are dead to guide.

Jair Barik

2010-08-27, 02:15 PM

Nara nodded in return and turned to face the waves once more.

"So much rage. Such destructive force wielded not by Gods, nor even man but by the power of the world itself. Why are we seeking to save this world Garadiel? Do you ever doubt your decision to devote your life to saving it when we both know that there is such evil within it?" It was a typical response that by now Garadiel could likely expect to come from his brother. Vague philosophical musings on the world, a definite sense of fatalism and futility, of regret and sadness. He idly flicked one hand bending the waves to his will, causing them to curl in the air before they came crashing down once more upon the earth.

hi-mi-tsu

2010-08-27, 02:28 PM

"My forgiveness." The goddess's voice goes flat, and her eyes grow shuttered. "He, traitor that he is, wants my forgiveness. Ahhh, but forgiveness for what, I wonder? Is it for the one act, or for all? For speaking my name in his cursed speech, for forcing me to see--"

The goddess falters, and the harshness of her facade cracks; North sees exposed to him a terrified young woman, who presses her hand against the wall for support as her legs threaten to crumble beneath her. Tears rise, all unbidden, and each one hits the floor as a nail, a thorn, a painful memory.

"He made me see..." The words are whispered, and she cannot pull her shields back around her. "He made me see and I...lost control of myself and I hurt...those people, that town. And then he punished me for it..."

She lifts her eyes to North once more and there is a bleakness there, a sickness of soul, a lingering madness and a strangely compelling attraction; he cannot pull his eyes away. She convulsively grips the cross around her throat, digging the edges into her palms, and her blood mingles with the nails on the floor.

"You tell him that if it is forgiveness he is after, he will have to ask me for it himself. Sending a messenger is cowardly."

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-27, 02:33 PM

Garadiel and Celestan

Celestan watched as his uncle returned to the Underworld. He pondered the last few words spoken by the Death God.

"Do not forget that you were once mortal...Huh. I never would have thought those words would come out from the mouth of the All-Father. Don't worry, Garadiel! I will make sure that not you, not the Dreamers, nor anyone else forget that fact...and that ultimately, they all realize that the story of this world is a story of mortality, of beginnings and ends, of triumph against overwhelming adversity and rebirth from the ashes. There is greater than you and me, Garadiel. Greater than the memories of your father or the dreams of Those Who Wait Beyond. There is them."

Celestan now gazed at the people in the courtyard of the Hall of Dawn.

"I cannot say for certain, but...I believe that when you and my mother were called, it was not a supreme being who summoned you to the Tree. It was them, their collective spirit and hopes, focused on the Tree. And for the Tree to survive, uncle, it will take more than mighty spells and divine heroics. It will take all of the mortals to stand united against those who would destroy their legacy and future. That is our task, as I feel it, deep down in my soul."

White Blade

2010-08-27, 02:40 PM

Garadiel shakes his head at Nara's fatalism. He might have expected such from his siblings who had never actually walked the world with mortals, who had spent their youths in the House in the Uttermost East, but he and Nara had never been like that. They'd seen the world through eyes that were still in wonder, that weren't lordly but low. Well, low by comparison Garadiel corrected. The Children of Rognir who had risen to Godhood had never been so low that they were mortals.

I've never doubted, Garadiel said, though of course he had doubted his capability, but he never doubted his goal. The World ought to be saved, Creation ought to continue. Garadiel was certain of it, the way he was certain of the sun's rising, more so actually since Ateris and Kyfla-Madur's stunt. He hoped for it, he longed for it, he dreamed of it. No, there is no doubt in Nara's brother's forceful speach. Not of his goals at least, There is still wonder, and Nara is forced to pause as Garadiel says this, as he sees the sights that Garadiel has seen. A mother and a child, brave men giving their lives in the service of greater things than themselves, the stars dancing and wheeling in heaven, ancient mountains with wonderful views, the Crystal Lake of south-western Negeb, the first sight Garadiel had ever laid on a magical place, crystals jutting up and shifting and moving, like flowing waves. The Mountain of Silence in the northwest of Giverterre, which is silent at all hours no matter who is on it or how they speak, because Oski deafened every ear on its steps. The Rooms of Rognir's house, the better ones, the ones Garadiel had enjoyed the most. The Den of Tales, where his father had told them stories, the Ancient Hall, the trophies of Rognir and for a moment Nara remembers why he had once been a hunter, and everything else beside. No amount of darkness is worth putting out the light, he says with force. No, to give in to the darkness of that empty silence would be the worst thing. Even the mindless light and clatter of meaningless noise is better then that the most terrible darkness and silence.

North
And when my Lord comes, and you destroy Erimere because of your speech? When that guilt sits on both your heads will it be brave North says, finishing with a sneer.

Jair Barik

2010-08-27, 03:02 PM

Nara sighed. "Well you can have your view and I can have mine. Now, to the greater issues at hand. Rognir is dead, the Gods mourn but trouble still lurks within the shadows of the land waiting to strike at the world once more. If you are going to try and fight it again do not repeat the mistakes of the past. Rognir died because instead of going to our brother and reasoning with him the Gods rallied the swords against him, seeking to strike him down rather than speak the issues with him. Please do not lash out at the next threat."

White Blade

2010-08-27, 03:43 PM

Garadiel frowns at his brother, far more powerfully than any Nara has seen in years. I was trying and Nara suddenly knows where Garadiel had been, he had been heading west to go and speak with his brothers, and do not speak of him like you know him, There are flashes of things that Nara can't hold onto every time Garadiel says "him". It is clearly Ateris, but it also Eglasian, the dear friend of Raia and Garadiel who Nara had never payed much attention to. Garadiel, it is clear, is quite insulted that Nara thinks he cares more about going in guns blazing then saving his brother's life.

Jair Barik

2010-08-27, 03:52 PM

Naras frown increases.
"You hold a lot of value to those words of yours don't you? It is true that they can cut deep than knives. I spoke with him you know, agreed with what he said understood him. You know so little of me Garadiel. I know you have suffered as we have all suffered but spare a thought for your kin. I expect to die before all this is over, Aldric it seems is destined to die without choice, have pity for him. Calantha.... Calantha it seems is also destined to die, I cannot imagine how she will live on once Aldric dies, the two are close as I understand. Your words have great power Garadiel but have you used them wisely? Whose names do you find useful to strike out at your family most?"

White Blade

2010-08-27, 04:06 PM

Garadiel looks momentarily furious, his face set in a mask of rage and his eyes glittering with a hate that no mortal could know, that Nara would never have thought possible for Garadiel or indeed for any, except perhaps Kyfla-Madur. But then his face seems to relax and he just begins to shed tears, I did not ask for this, Garadiel says, the brand on his tree seeming to stand out upon his face, the voice he speaks with held in contempt, the pain that he has witnessed, the love of a sister who died, the fight with Calantha, the fight with Echo, the lost of Eglasian and Wyse, whom he had gone to try and save, the loss of his father. I did not come to trade poison, he says after he recomposes himself, I love you Nara, there is in fact the deep roots of ancient love, long remembered kindnesses, the thoughts of happier times, when they were still children in their father's house. Mercy and forgiveness to cover all of Nara's sins. And then he waves and vanishes.

hi-mi-tsu

2010-08-27, 04:11 PM

Calantha flinches, and hates herself for it; in the next instant she pushes away from the wall, and strikes North hard across the face.

"Go away from me." Her voice is low, and she turns her back on the messenger. "You are just like him. I have learned much, in the years since the incident of Shale, but it seems he is still as rigid and self-righteous as ever."

Unbidden, her glance turns toward the window, and she suddenly longs for the sun to set; she wants the stars to rise, so she can rise to them, so she can change her fate and the fate of her brother.

"Tell him that I am not who I was, at Shale, and if he likes he can come and test for himself. But I will see no more messengers."

White Blade

2010-08-27, 04:13 PM

North gives one last, angry look at Calantha, before he turns and runs, like a small child afraid of a much larger and more terrifying thing.

Jair Barik

2010-08-27, 04:18 PM

He did not notice it as he vanished but Nara's flesh had started to boil, or so it seemed. For the first time in a long while pure fear gripped Nara's face. He did not understand what was happening to him, this experience was new, strange, different to the changes that had cursed him before. Screaming a primal roar he cluched at his face, tearing at his skin in a desperate bid to try and get it off of his face, to end this strange burning. As smoke rose up from his form he collapsed to the ground clutching at his face and did nothing but stare into the ground.

For an hour he did not move. Then, reaching into the earth he took fort the mask and placed it upon his face with a laugh.

"Thank you Garadiel... I really did not think that would work."
Rising from the ground he turned to face the house of Rognir. Had anyone been around to watch it would have been immediately obvious that Nara had changed. Though the scars on his chest remained his skin no longer resembled bark, nor was he covered in fur for that matter. A thick mane of red hair flowed from his head but otherwise he simply appeared as a well built and physically powerful mortal man, tall and strong.
"Are either of you two still in there? No? Didn't think so. Now lets go see if father left any good weapons lying around the house..."
Nara strode up the staircase and pushed open the doors striding into the house at the furthest east.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-08-27, 04:54 PM

Celestan and Eridi

Celestan sped towards Hyb just as he finished talking with Orgo, in order to ask Eridi personally about the census data. He arrived at his uncle's workshop for the first time and knocked. Eridi was a good man, if Sovvenia's journal was to be believed. And one dedicated to the progress of mankind, he thought. Celestan couldn't help to finally meet him.

TheDarkDM

2010-08-27, 07:13 PM

Rognir's House

Faolan didn't know how long he'd spent in the library of Rognir, poring over the Chronicle like a man possessed. No matter how many times he read the words, he couldn't believe some of the things he read - the world that existed before Faolan's, hints of the nature of Those Who Wait Beyond, Rognir's hopes and dreams for his children and the world. And repeated throughout, mentions of a mortal who knew Rognir better than any of them, a squire. Faolan knew he was important, knew that a vital piece of the puzzle was held by that man, but could find no mention of him in Rognir's latter years. Eventually, Faolan grew exhausted with the chronicle and moved on to other books, driven to explore the knowledge of Rognir by the gaps in the chronicle. It was in the middle of an ancient tome on the smithing arts when he felt a chill run up his spine. Looking up from the ancient script, he heard the slam of the front door, the footsteps of a single man. Taking up the Spear of Rognir, he left the library to meet the intruder.

Stepping into the flickering torches of Rognir's Hall, Faolan looked the worse for wear. His hair a tangled mess, his face ringed in blood red stubble, he looked more a vagrant than a god. However, his frame was still mighty, and the point of the spear that pointed towards the ground never wavered. Seeing the figure that sported a surprising resemblance to himself, Faolan called out.

"Welcome, stranger, to the house of the Overgod Rognir. What business do you have here?"

Erimere

Eithne had waited outside Calantha's chamber as she talked with North, trading barbs and accusations. She seemed almost to blend into the curtains wreathing the walls, at least until her had shot out to catch North as he ran from the temple. Though she looked like any other reveler, there was a strength in Eithne's grip that only came from being a seasoned warrior, and she pulled the construct close.

"Tell your master also that lady Calantha is not alone here."

Then North was released, and he saw that behind Eithne's eyes there was no light, no warmth, only the vestigial flare of dying light behind an eclipse. It was a cold glare that cut through the frigid wind that made his spirit, a look of cold and lingering rage. But then North found his feet again and sped off. Putting him out of her mind, Eithne ran in to tend to her mistress, lowering her onto one of the many cushions.

"Be at peace my lady, he is gone. Is there anything I can do?"

White Blade

2010-08-27, 07:59 PM

Verdant and his men were ready. The preparations had worked, in the end. They had repeated their tactics, and paranoia increased, and division multiplied. The Scourge was no longer a substantial threat, save the son of Heradi and his direct subordinates. There were some two hundred of them, all told. Verdant smiled and looked at his men. Each of them was fit to slay five of these vagabonds, he was proud of them. And they had the element of surprise, as they sat encroached around the camp.

Veresi carried a rapier of god-steel and a buckler cut from the wood of one of the felled trees of the Great Forest, or so the stories said. Veresi himself was a warrior of remarkable caliber. No doubt he would be roused and ready by the time Verdant reached him. Good. He hadn't had a chance to truly test his metal.

So Verdant gave the signal and the Guard took to Verdant's left and right, ripping through the defenses, even as Verdant used his skill to aid them. Once more, he had to take to replacing his blade in the midst of battle, for his strength was too great for the battle. Soon, there was naught before him but broken men and screeching warriors to his right and left. He advanced forward and saw Veresi emerge from his tent, his rapier drawn, his buckler readied for a shield. Verdant suddenly felt that his sword and his shield were terribly inadequate to the task. But he was more than adequate for it.

The circling began. Ah! I've told this tale before, of how duelists circle and the battle is all push and pull. Push too far, you'll lose a limb, pull too little, you'll have your heart on your sleeve, shortly before you die. Verdant made the first press, and Veresi retreated. He was skilled, no doubt, but he had never faced a foe of godlike skill and speed before. Verdant had, in his practice duels with his father. So the tide was in Verdant's control, though sometimes he would strike and find his blade broken against Veresi's shield, in which circumstances, many precious seconds were lost as he got another. He swiftly had to throw away his shield. None of these brigands had a decent replacement, he cursed.

Soon they were in the meeting tent of the camp. An idea struck Verdant and he wrapped his hand around the tent itself and, yanking it forward, sent it flying onto Veresi. Veresi's face was covered and Verdant drew his blade, pressed in as quickly as he could and then he made the killing blow. Veresi's head rolled, draped in scraps of cloth from the great tent. And Verdant took the blade from Veresi's hands, and he took the shield from his arm.

He raised his hands in triumph! They had succeeded! There were a few deaths on their side and Verdant stood over their cremation himself, and then he and his men were called before the king, to give testimony of their great work.

Carden

2010-08-28, 01:42 AM

Eridi had been working hard since his sister had left. Four hearts made of some of the rarest materials he could find, each covered in runes. Putting the finishing touches on the last, he nearly ruined it when a knock came to his door. With a huff, he got out of his work chair. He had seen the spark moving towards him, but, as always, time slipped away from him while he was doing work. "Aye, aye, just give me a second."

Opening the door, he saw the young god he had glimpsed at the world tree. They had never been properly introduced, but Eridi could almost feel the burning hope and passion of this one. Of course, he didn't miss his handiwork, either. As the sole known maker of orichalcum, it would've been shameful not to. "Ah, the Heir of Sovvenia, I see. And to what does Eridi, Son of Rognir, owe this pleasure, Fiery One?"

Jair Barik

2010-08-28, 06:37 AM

"So you are Faolan. So nice to finally meet you in the flesh, God of earth and vengeance. So great a likeness between the father and the son. But to the question at hand I am looking for a weapon. I have a snake to find, I may well need to kill it, and where better to find a weapon than at the forge of he who was once unquestionably the greatest smith in the world."

The man smiled beneath the mask his eyes showing a sense of pride and devotion about Faolan.

The_Snark

2010-08-28, 11:30 AM

Five Years Ago

Tonight the greatest city in the world was filled with the sound of screams and the distant clash of arms. Not long after the siege began, the four armies outside the gates had felled all the trees around and built great siege engines, and for months now the city had been used to a slow but steady bombardment. No one slept easy, knowing that they could be crushed in their sleep by a falling stone. There was nothing to be done, however, and most of those who did not snap became used to the idea, jumping at every loud noise but otherwise going on with their lives.

Yet the past few hours had seen no falling stones, though the siege engines continued their steady fire. One of the four princes—Aradoch, most likely, or Hissai—had hit upon the idea of hurling food into the city. This seemed contradictory, the purpose of a siege being to deprive the city of food, and at first Ba Shaan and Lilike speculated that one of the four princes must have betrayed the others, or else gone mad. Ba Shaan had not let his puzzlement keep him from taking advantage of the opportunity, however, seizing the crates of food for his men to help them defend the walls.

In retrospect, the trap was obvious. The people were worse starved than even the soldiers, and the long siege had even the most cool-headed stretched to the breaking point. The people had swarmed over the food when it arrived, and when the soldiers arrived to take it to the palace, many went mad. The rioting had quickly spread as word went about that the soldiers had dragged some back to the palace, and while the mobs had not yet reached the gate or the palace, it could only be a matter of time.

Really, you had to admire the strategy; it went against the grain of all conventional military thinking, and yet it threatened to do what months of siege had not. Lilike could almost believe that the entire siege had been nothing more than a buildup to this one masterstroke, priming the populace to explode with this single spark.

She would have been much more inclined to admire the artistry of her opponent's masterstroke if she didn't have a worthless stubborn partner who wouldn't even try to put out the fires! "You have to release the food," she insisted once again. "Not all of it, of course. Just enough to calm people down, distract the-"

"No." Ba Shaan did not stop to listen to her, instead continuing his inspection of the walls. She trailed after him, hating that he made her do that.

"If you don't do something, sooner or later they're going to think of the palace. Everybody assumes we have food hidden away there-"

"As indeed we do, thanks to tonight."

Much good it will do us if they storm the palace!"

"Storm the palace? Please, Lilike." He snorted. "Every able-bodied man with a blade has been conscripted. Who in the city is supposed to stand up to them? Civilians? Refugees from the countryside? Women and children? It would be a slaughter."

"Yes it would," said Lilike, trying to rein in her anger. At least he wasn't ignoring her. "A slaughter of our people. Hunger makes people desperate. How many of your soldiers will stand up to an angry mob?"

"Enough."

"So you say." She changed tactics, made her voice reasonable instead of frustrated. "But why bother if you can avoid it? You're killing your own future conscripts, after all." He didn't interrupt, and she pressed onwards, soft words coiling around him like a serpent.

"You might carry the day today, but what about tomorrow? It would be so easy to stop it. Just give them a little of what they want, enough that they don't starve. They won't be desperate enough to attack us after they've got a bit of food in their bellies, and in a few hours the armies outside will see it isn't working and stop—they won't risk undoing everything they've done over the past few months. You'd be a hero, instead of the man who stole their hope out from under them and crushed them when they had the temerity to try and take it back. Which would you rather be?"

He was silent still, and sensing weakness she pressed her point home. "What would your father have done?"

"My father?" He turned suddenly, looming over her, and there was fury written upon his face and in his voice. She shied back instinctively. "My father would never have found himself in this situation! And do you know why? Because no one would have dared! No man could have mustered an army to march on this city when our fathers ruled, because Kylfa-Madur would have killed him in his bed! You lecture me on my duties, cousin, yet you neglect yours. Shall I come to your tower and lecture you on how best to work your magics? Perhaps I ought, because clearly you are not attending to them. Why does this army still sit here after months, untouched save for the swords and arrows of my men? Do you not stand for the Sword of Mortalkind?"

She blinked at the assault, but managed to muster a defense. "I tricked Varis's men into attacking-"

"Ba Lutei's forces, yes, and after the skirmish died down the armies started assailing the walls by turns, so that their men would not run afoul of one another. And you haven't done anything since, except give advice I do not want or need. You think it would be as simple as sending my men out with crates of food? They would be attacked before they could declare their intent, and if we opened the storehouses they would pick them bare, like locusts. I do my job, Lilike- the wall holds. Can you say the same?"

She could not come up with an answer to that, opening and closing her jaw; then with a sharp jerk of her head she left the wall. Fine, then- let him be stubborn. He wanted her to solve his problems through sorcery? She would. All that night she whispered from the highest tower in the city, and the next day an ill wind blew out from the city walls. The crops in the fields withered and grew sickly, and in the storehouses of the four armies unwholesome things grew, molds and sicknesses. Many of the crates that were tossed into the city smelled of rot when the hungry citizenry tore them open. Later she was to learn that Ba Shaan had commanded his men leave some of the crates for the people to find, taking her advice after a fashion, though she admitted (to herself) that his way was better than her original suggestion. This proved fortunate, for the last few crates were tainted in such a way that they neither smelled nor tasted unusual, but all who ate them became very sick, and many of the citizens died.

The wind died at dawn, but its effects lingered, for many of the nearly wells had gone foul, and for a time things became very hard for the armies of Aradoch and Ba Lutei. But Varis and Hissai had camped next to the river, which was of course still pure, and they soon agreed to allow their siblings' armies to draw river.

Smoke rose from the city, and hunger and plague gnawed at the land all around, but both the city and its besiegers endured. Once there was talk of peace, but no agreement could be reached, for none of the princes would yield. Ba Shaan continued to be stubborn, and matters remained cold between the two regents; and as the siege wore on, Lilike began to wonder whether it was time to think about choosing a different side.

TheDarkDM

2010-08-28, 02:05 PM

Faolan brought the tip of the Spear to the ground, gazing with curiosity at the stranger. It seemed almost as though he knew him, but behind the man's mask he could make out no features. The voice though...

"There are indeed a great many weapons in the armory, stranger. But you seem to have me at a disadvantage - despite my lack of manners, you know my name, while I know nothing of you."

Jair Barik

2010-08-28, 02:45 PM

The man laughed, not a cold laugh, a hearty one that filled the room with warmth and the feeling of home.

"My name was stolen long ago by an imposter. I have no name to call my own anymore. I was once a favoured son of Rognir though, destined to be the Lord of the Hunt, a slayer of mighty beasts and game. Yes... I remember these halls, this floor, this roof these walls. The forge is that way is not? Let us arm ourselves for the hunt ahead."

Walking on the so called 'Lord of the Hunt' made his way towards the forge to seek out the weapons and armour of Rognir, gesturing for Faolan to follow him.

TheDarkDM

2010-08-28, 03:23 PM

Following the nameless man to Rognir's Forge, Faolan remained on guard. The being seemed friendly, indeed he was more similar to Faolan than any other divine he had met, but there was still an air of familiarity about him that put Faolan on edge. Though another may have dismissed such feelings as paranoia brought about by Rognir's Chronicle, Faolan had learned to trust his instincts in his mortal years as a hunter.

"Well, in your absence I seem to have been granted your mantle, at least so far as the slaying of monsters. I must ask, who was this being who stole your name? And is it the target of your hunt, or do you pursue another quarry?"

Jair Barik

2010-08-28, 03:28 PM

"HA! Good to hear that the title goes to one so worthy of it. I would rather not speak of he who has stolen my name but the beast I hunt is none other than the serpent A'Gap, born into this world once more. The great serpent needs to be found, possibly even killed before it poses the divine family any threat."

TheDarkDM

2010-08-28, 03:43 PM

"Ah, I can understand the desire to move on from something so painful as being deprived of one's name. Hunting A'Gap sounds like a mighty challenge, a challenge worthy of gods, but I have a word of caution for you. The tales of Rognir may not have been entirely honest on the nature of A'Gap, and despite my studies I have been unable to find a new tale to explain my doubts. I agree that A'Gap must be found, but be aware that he may not be the terrible beast we all assumed him to be. When you find him, I would appreciate it if you would allow my involvement in deciding his fate."

White Blade

2010-08-28, 05:41 PM

Verdant, Squire of Rognir, stood proudly, though he had bended his back before the king. He was not so humble as to kneel, even here and now, if he could avoid it. The King smiled at him. To all accounts, Irin II was a worthy king, the rightful successor to the kingdom's savior during the Year of Many Reigns. He was a worshiper of the Gods, as all good men were, and paid no great heed of anything. He had no sons, and only one daughter, who had denied permission to be courted to everyone. He might be the last of his line, but he was prepared to set someone in his place, should he believe his life in danger.

He was still fit, even in his age, and his eyes were sharp. He looked at Verdant and spoke, "You have done this nation a great service," he said, "I must ask you for another. You have defeated the Red Wind, though I understand he himself did the better portion of the work," laughter amongst the courtiers, at least those who had not lost sons or daughters, "But there are still many threats to this nation."

"I have heard whispers of the Blackwings spreading in my court, and I know that Araph is still too strongly worshiped amidst our people. And there are the giants that have been gathering to the North for some time. And while it humbles me to ask it of a servant of the Gods, I must ask that you stay, for the sake of my people."

Verdant weighed his options. Defeating Veresi had been a good first step, and gaining his weapons had certainly helped on the path to divinity, but Verdant felt as if the road ahead of him was quite far. So in the end he consented, "I will remain, good king, for the sake of your people."

The King hosted a feast in his honor.

hi-mi-tsu

2010-08-28, 11:39 PM

Eithne and Calantha

The goddess seems almost not to notice the young woman, at first; she allows herself to be led to the cushion, to be lowered down, docile as a young child. For a long, long time she is silent, and only moves to grip Eithne's sleeve hard, should her companion act as though she is going to leave.

It isn't until the sun is setting and the temple is growing dark that the goddess stirs herself to life; she looks around her for a moment, confused, then lifts her eyes to Eithne's face.

"Help me..." The goddess stands, slowly, as though she has aged one hundred years while sitting on the floor. "We must get to the observatory. They are weakest when they first appear, and I will not have the strength to take them when they are at their zenith..."

Calantha leans on Eithne for support as they proceed to the observatory; by the time they have climbed the winding stairs to the top of the tower, night had fallen, and the goddess's eyes sweep the room. The mirror is leaned against the wall, and she gestures to it; it rises, and comes to her, laying itself flat on the small table next to her journal. Not all stars are visible, and the goddess worries at her lip; Eithne is all but forgotten, in the darkness of the observation room, where the only light comes from the eldritch glow of the goddess's garb and the pale streaming of the stars themselves. There is hate in her eyes, as she looks at them...hate, and awe, and wonder. For all that she feels their binding is unfair, for all that she seeks to remove them...they are beautiful, in their own right, as distant and cold as another world, and yet burning with the fire of mortalkind.

The Watcher of the Behemoth finally rises above the horizon, and the goddess's eyes are drawn to it as a moth is drawn to the flame of a lantern; she notices Eithne once again, and waves the girl over.

"Help me!"

The mirror is angled properly, so that the light of the Watcher shines onto the surface; Calantha closes her eyes, feeling the frigid brilliance on her skin, stronger, more powerful, as if it knows, as if it is a sentient thing.

"Come..." The word is a whisper, a caress, a begging plea; she reaches her hands to the star, and one is clutching the cross 'round her neck. It resists; she can feel it resisting, and her eyes open again, to stare at the offending object. It is there, it is there...

"Come..." Louder now, more demanding...was that movement? A faint shift, a twinkle; yes, yes, though it fights like a fish on the line she can feel it, and she laughs aloud in triumph.

"Come!" Her hand grips the cross, and her blood drips onto the mirror; she is swooning with the power, the sensation, oh Father yes yes it is mine it is mine

"COME!" The tension breaks, like a string snapping; a silver streak sears across the darkness of the sky, to plummet into the surface of the mirror, and Calantha collapses in a senseless heap.

Where there was a reflection of nothing, now there is a faint point of light in the darkness of the mirror's surface.

Kasanip

2010-08-29, 06:45 AM

Nari and the Fire God on a Journey

The journey had been a long one through winter, and the burden had been great on the pair of travelers, though Nari learned to trust and open herself to the God of Fire during it. The Shiuk people were riders of horses, and while they could ride and endure great things, Nari had been raised at Caer Faol, and her legs often ached and she was weary with the traveling.

But they came to the ratmen, and still weary and cold from the storm before, Nari looked down on the settlement in uncertainty to what the Fire God was trying to teach her.

"...I see that they have families. It looks like that despite the mess, they work hard to take care of themselves." She guessed. "I don't know. I've never seen them before. But I wonder if you might be asking me if they are not so different than we humans are." She said outloud, but a little uncertain. Nari had gotten used to Celestan's questions, which were always frank, but which she never could answer well. But maybe she had learned a lot already from his wisdom.
Though she thought perhaps right now, a warm fire and food would be nice, as she pulled her cloak tighter.

Jair Barik

2010-08-30, 12:40 PM

He nodded to Faolan.
"Good to hear. Killing will only be necessary if he is a threat. If not then observation is probably the best option. Keep an eye upon him in case he does become a threat in the future."

White Blade

2010-09-02, 12:15 PM

Verdant had been appointed a special station in Hith, that of Captain of the Royal Guard, though theoretically speaking the Royal Guard didn't do all that much. It was more of an excuse to allow Verdant to go wherever he wanted, requiring him to return to his "king" only rarely. He left the old guard the way it was, without much complaint. He was hardly interested in guarding the king, so much as he was in guarding Creation itself. And that meant uprooting the cults that had infected the land all those years ago.

But before Verdant did that, he gathered together his guard, the group he had taken with him to defeat Veresi. They gathered together in a lonely meeting hall, in one of the now-emptied keeps that had been appointed Verdant's headquarters. There were no servants, though a feast lay before the soldiers. They ate, they drank, they rejoiced at their new fortune. And then Verdant rose, and he began to speak.

"Brothers," he announced, "I have gathered you this day for the sake of a great battle ahead of us," as Verdant said this, muttering broke out, but he raised his hand and silenced it, "This battle is in the distances, though you already know of it by name. Álrodores."

A hush fell over the room, they knew that Verdant was Rognir's squire, or would have been, had Rognir not died. They knew he spoke with authority.

"It is a distant battle, but it has a long history. Allow me to tell you the tale," and then Verdant began to tell the story.

In the beginning, there was nothing. Nothing, absolute void, dark and cold. It was nothing but blackness and cold forever. Then, from nothing, there came a tiny seed. It planted itself amidst the darkness, and it grew, in spite of everything. And when it had grown strong and tall, a seed fell from its branches, and from this seed grew a man.

This man turned to the empty void and saw that it was not good, so he turned to the Tree and the Tree bore him a child, and that child was a world, not at all unlike our own. When the World Tree had borne this world, the man took to it, and bore children in it, just as Rognir had. And in the early days of spring, all was young and sweet, and everything was in bloom.

But spring cannot last forever, and soon, Summer came upon the world. The world was far grander in the summer years with the sun shining so bright. It was a time of warmth, a time of striving, and struggle and pain made man great.

Then came fall, and for awhile, all the World mistook the golden leaves for paradise. Peace, growth, reaping, a time of greatness and of peace. Kingdoms were proclaimed without end, and no war was found on the whole of the face of the world. But it did not last, oh, it could not last.

Then, darkness came again, stronger than before, and winter fell on the bough of the Tree and the world began to be consumed by the cold and the dark. But one of the First Man's sons took to the Tree and hid in her branches, so that when Winter had at last passed her over, he climbed out of the branches, and again a world was born.

So it was for generation after generation, from eternal year to eternal year, but Rognir had been stronger than the others, and he weathered the cold with his ancient black cloak. But one angry brother, jealous of his brother's strength, went to Winter and bent his knee, and swore an oath to the primordial darkness. There was a war between the brothers, and this is how Rognir lost his eye but Winter and its adopted child fled, and swore vengeance.

So Rognir built his world as a fortress, and his sons were mighty indeed. But Mother Tree is still undefended. She has borne a thousand worlds, she has been mightier than everything. But she is only a mother. She cannot defend herself.

"So she sent me, her Son," Verdant announced proudly, "The first god born of her since the First Father! Winter will put her to the sword if we do not defend her. I have come to beg you, to plead with you, that you might help me defend the World Tree. If you are willing, swear it by this our table, and give it as an oath before the Stars, and I shall make you the captain of my guard."

None of Verdant's guard failed to swear their oath. They became the World-Guard's Captains, Verdant's Branded.

Created the first 50 of the World-Guard Captain, Verdant's branded. Long term, they're kind of like Valkyries, picking and saving competent warriors and getting them to join the Guard. Verdant has some plans for more permanent modifications that make them able to do so, which may cost me a major act next turn. But right now, they just recruit.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-09-03, 06:55 PM

Celestan and Eridi

Celestan smiled and took his uncle's hands into his own.

"So glad to meet you, Eridi! I wish there was more time for us to talk over a cup of coffee but I understand that you are quite busy! That's good. I came here to ask about the census records from Hybil'smita. I am looking for people that we have lost, people who were very important to our family."

----------------------------

Nari and the Fire God on a Journey

Lancelot gently tapped on the girl's shoulder.

"Indeed. You are able to see the potential in anyone, Nari. And most importantly, you open your mind and heart to others. Why remain here in the cold? Go introduce yourself to the rat tribe. Share your fortune with those who need it the most. I'll be right behind you."

Carden

2010-09-04, 04:22 PM

Eridi had suspected as much, there wasn't really any other reason for a god to be doing a census. They searched for A'gap, Raia, or Rognir, no one else was worth the trouble to find. "So, you're the one who's taken that egotistical title of 'King of the East'? I've never been one for epitaphs, but to each his own. Yes, the census has been taken in Hybil'Smita, indeed it was taken from the north to the south coasts, from the farthest east to the great desert. Plenty of births, thousands of papers, each name with a date of birth. I've already sorted out the records of those born or named on the days we heard that gods had been reborn."

Gesturing inside, Eridi continued. "I'm still not completely sure whether or not you can have these records, so what work I have can wait. First I need to know your intentions in depth. Personally, I'm not sure there is any reason these gods should be found once more, not if they've been freed into humanity. Come, prove me wrong in a seat if you wish, nephew."

Kasanip

2010-09-05, 08:39 AM

Nari and the Fire God on a Journey
Nari was a little cautious, but she had a fiery heart and was unafraid. Already she had left far behind the thoughts of home and safety, and her time with Celestan had strengthened her resolve again, even as she struggled against the cold weather.

Yes, this was another challenge for her maybe. She smiled, and then carefully stepped through the snow down to the rat tribe. Several of them turned to her and watched her carefully, but she wore just a smile, and had no weapons or offense to her manner.

She put her hands together and bowed to them in the Shiuk way and the rat tribe responded. Though there was not language between them, they still were able to talk from heart to heart. And they invited her in to the fires and shared warm food with her and the Fire God, her guardian. And that evening they asked for a story, and Nari told as best she could, the story of the Shiuk. She was lively and passionate in her tale, and with her charm and joy, she taught them many things about the ways of humans, and the blessings and curses that they have. And that night the rat tribe hunters returned with a great feast, fortune was with them, and they celebrated thanks for the little things of life. Warmth, and food, and community.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-09-07, 09:39 PM

Celestan and Eridi

Celestan bowed and entered Eridi's home.

"I'm grateful uncle. Now first I must say that I sincerly believe Sovvenia would have loved the idea of census, as a way to keep the past generations alive, and make their contributions to our world known to all. It is in part to honor her memory that I do this. I am also very close to mortals, I feel a great deal for them - all of them. I'm not their lord; I am their servant. And by doing this great census I believe I will come to know them even better, and ensure that the others gods, too, learn to know them! But this is not new to you, Eridi; you live among them, even if somewhat recluse these past years.

As for this whole reborn god business...well, I don't mean disrespect, but who are you to decide that our lost loved ones shouldn't be sought once they are reincarnated in their new life? I would like very much to see Raia again, who was truly like a mother to me. I understand that it won't be her, it will be a different person, even though they will share the same soul. Yet, I cannot simply abandon this idea...I must see her one last time."

Celestan looked away to conceal his tears. He took a deep breath and gazed back at the elder god before him, now more determined than ever.

"And to be honest, uncle, I feel that the souls that have been touched by the divine spark can never truly be normal, never can fit into an ordinary life. A soul as powerful and ancient as Rognir...will surely greatly disturb the balance in the world. But if we can find him, Raia, and others, maybe we can prevent possible catastrophes and ensure that their power is kept in check."

------------------

The Journey Continues - Nari and Lancelot

Nari and her guardian left the homes of the ratmen some time later, and they brought with them many gifts - provisions, but also good luck charms - given to them by their new friends. And thus they followed the roads North, always North, and soon it was spring.

Kasanip

2010-09-08, 11:44 AM

Nari and the Lancelot

Leaving the ratmen some time later, Nari had learned some of their craft- the making of the charms. She had received them graciously, and given them what craft she knew of the Shiuk style. But now at last winter was leaving, and the green grass began to grow.
Together they traveled North, in the far distance, the mountains remained veiled by spring rainstorms and fog. But Spring is the season Nari loved most, and she walked and learned many things from Lancelot.
But being troubled one day, she turned to him.

"Lord Celestan, it is the Shiuk way for a woman to be trained to fight. The ratmen seemed of a different custom, and even in the southern kingdoms this is not so. But to defend oneself, I have failed except through words, and even words sometimes cannot mend things, as you have told me in the stories of the divine family.
But maybe I am just finding an excuse for curiosity. It is said that you were trained by Raia, the goddess of war, who also was the goddess of my people. Yet...that was before me, and I fear I dont' know much of what happened. In the disaster, the Aptok-un-Shiuk lost many things, and it's veiled from us. Can you teach me of the things of that time?" She implored him.

Raz_Fox

2010-09-08, 11:55 AM

Census

Do you have any idea how many children have been born in the last twelve years? Thousands of names make their way into the lists of Orgo's Seekers. Even as they note which ones might be A'gap, or Raia, or Rognir reborn, still there are hundreds.

Is it possible for A'gap to return as a woman, or Raia as a man, they ask themselves? If so, we must watch both girl and boy, and so the list of candidates sprawls to hundreds in length.

And it is a great irony, a very great irony, that they disregard a scrawny young boy in a fishing village. They look at him - gangly-limbed, weak-eyed, and good only with fishing - and they disregard him, noting that he is unsuitable for a hero's soul. It is his brother they note, dark-haired and already proud at his youthful age, as a potential host. Watch him, they write, for he may yet be A'gap. And in this they are utterly and completely wrong.

Hospitality

There is a small cottage on a tiny island in the eastern seas that has stood there for a thousand years. It is the home of a man whose scars are very old and nearly invisible on his leathered skin, who is old but never infirm, who still grows crops and plows the land, because that is his passion.

He's a bit worried. His old friend's sword still hangs above the fireplace, he's sure of that. But he's never had anyone but his wife and his endless generations of children in his house before, and the man he found washed on the beach is strange indeed. After all, most men can't live with gaping holes in their chest where their heart should be.

And, though he hadn't noticed in his increasingly darkening ponderings, he had two shadows. And this was worst of all.

White Blade

2010-09-08, 12:27 PM

Garadiel returns to his house on the Greenmaw Islands. To his son and his wife. To his mirror which still casts a reflection of his graying hair and aging face. He is beginning to feel his bones slow, he is not a youth anymore. He suspects that, aside from Shen Shi Zhu, he is the first of Rognir's children to feel the baleful touch of age. He runs his fingers through his hair and knows he needs to cut it soon.

North and East and West and South are awaiting him. They do not disturb him as he kisses his wife, they do not bother him while he sits to eat a meal. But when he stands, the four press in, their tasks complete.

West says that they who live in Westerly are still loyal, and proud to serve.

South says that the Covenant remembers its founder, and are glad to hear word from him.

East reports all that he saw of Shen Shi Zhu, including the strange brand on his head. Garadiel takes note of it, remembering what the guardian of the Island said. But he will not visit, nor seek his father's sword. No. He is no grave-robber.

It is North's message which is most gravely disappointed, and beneath Garadiel's baleful gaze he tells all that he did and said to the Mad One, and Garadiel restrains his wrath. He is not his father, he is still Garadiel the Guide, he does not strike in wrath. But he is displeased. He will go and visit Calantha. He knows not where this ends.

He sets out across the sea, his steps firm and fast. Garadiel the Wanderer was swift, but Garadiel the High runs like the wind on top of the waves.

hi-mi-tsu

2010-09-08, 09:18 PM

Pulling the star from the sky had taken a great deal of energy from the mad goddess, and she'd been in bed for the entirety of the next day; she opened her eyes with the nightfall, and in the backs of them there gleamed an almost enrapturing light. That evening she spent at her mirror, gazing at the bright pinprick that wavered there; she spoke to it, sometimes cajoling, sometimes angry, sometimes proud. But always, always there was satisfaction, for her experiment had worked...

She had wanted to start taking willy-nilly from the sky, but Lucien, her sweet nephew, had advised caution. He told her that she should wait, that they should wait until they were sure, absolutely sure the Behemoth was vulnerable...they should wait, until Aldric tried to kill it again. And though she was not good at waiting, so convincing was he, so eminently logical, that she agreed.

And so it was that when Garadiel arrived, Calantha was in her temple, surrounded by worshipers desperately seeking her knowledge or wisdom; she had little to give, but she had many drugs, and most were in an altered state. She had not partaken, though...not tonight. Tonight she would watch the stars...

White Blade

2010-09-08, 09:35 PM

When Calantha sees her brother, she is shocked to find him old. Well, not old, but certainly older than she had expected him to be. His hair is graying now and his beard is trimmed properly, for once in his life. His eyes have lines around them, the beginning of the wrinkles Rognir had around his eye when he was old. His face is lined from smiling, from a happy life.

But it was more than that, it was his aura that had changed. His divinity. His core, or perhaps his shell, it is is difficult to tell. It is like the sound of the newborn's cries, the happy joy of newborn infants... And newborn worlds. There is the feeling of enduring power, of ancient trees old, so old it makes a god look up in wonder and feel as a newborn ant. There is a harsh cry, and the mourner's tears, the rest of perfect slumber, the leaving behind of all that you once were for something better and something new.

Garadiel walks with perfect patience, with almost lazy steps. He reaches Calantha and kneels, in some deferential display of respect that her father might have insisted on. Garadiel does not speak, but he looks up at his sister and wonders.

The_Snark

2010-09-09, 05:49 AM

War of the Five Princes
Four Years after Rognir's Death

At long last, the siege in the West is broken. The armies of Aradoch, Varis, Ba Lutei and Hissai are on the march, and they march away from the greatest city in the world. Their faces are grim, for every soldier in those armies has lost friends trying to scale those walls, and now they must leave the field with no victory to soften the loss. The slow beat of drums accompanies the retreat like a funeral march, and behind them rises smoke: they have set fire to the fields, a last spiteful stroke against their foe. The battle may be lost, they say to one another, but not the war. They will return.

Inside the city, the mood is little better. Oh, there are celebrations. The people throng around the gates as they are opened for the first time in months, and Ba Shaan rides through the city streets at the head of a procession of courtiers and guards, all resplendent in their finest. But the cheers that follow them are ragged, and many people stare at the regent's procession in stony silence. They remember the long hunger of the siege, which they would not have had to endure if it were not for the ambition of the princes. They remember the swords of Ba Shaan's men cutting down starving folk in the streets, they remember their kin dying on the wall to defend Ba Shaan's claim to the throne. They see the rising columns of smoke, and know that their ordeals are not yet done. The days to come will be hard ones, and the war may yet return. Then, too, there is the river; the thought of that is a shadow on even the most joyous hearts.

But today, the siege is broken.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Earlier

No-one thought anything of it when the sickness first appeared. Disease always followed armies, just like crows did: that was simply a fact of life. You could not have thousands of people living and sleeping so close without some taking sick. As sicknesses went this was not a bad one: the afflicted heaved out their guts, suffered cramps, and was too nauseous to walk or eat for a few hours.

But it spread terribly quickly. Within two days the assaults on the wall had been brought to a near-complete halt, for over half the soldiers lay abed, unable to walk—much less try to scale the heavily defended wall. Not only soldiers suffered: the camp followers were afflicted, and many of the local farmers, and even animals were seen to suffer, curling up and ignoring humans when ordinarily they would have fled. Only the city walls seemed any defense. Most men recovered in hours, but soon fell sick again, baffling the already-overworked healers.

It was not until the evening of the second day, when the river-water began to taste foul, that people began to guess at the truth: the river was the source of the sickness. Those who drank only well-water remained healthy.

When dawn came this was made plain to all. The river had an oily black tinge to it, and it was no longer possible to drink it at all. The water smelled sickly-sweet like rotten fruit, and anyone who drank it gagged and vomited at once. Somehow, the river had been poisoned, and was no longer good to drink.

In their tents, Aradoch and Ba Lutei and Hissai and Varis drank well-water and made plans. They conferred with their quartermasters, and all received the same answer: there simply were not enough wells around the city to keep thousands of men on their feet. The siege was broken, and tomorrow they would announce it to their armies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Earlier

In the mountains at the edge of the world there is a forest. It is unlike any other forest, for these trees were once men. Each committed some perfidy against Kylfa-Madur, and for that crime the the Ready Sword of Mankind denied them the right to be men. Now they stand rooted in place, neither living nor dead, doomed to see and hear and feel but never to move. The agony of this can be read on their features: branches claw at the sky, knothole-eyes stare widely, mouth-shaped holes gape open in silent screams. They long to be free of their wooden prisons; they crave the freedom to move, just as a starving man craves food and a drowning man craves air. They have never received this, for there is no mercy in Kylfa-Madur's justice.

Now one of the trees shudders. Its trunk swells over the course of several minutes, bark tearing as the wooden flesh beneath warps outwards. Soon the new growth is as large as the rest of the tree put together; the eerie almost-face is distended into unrecognizability, and the roots creak in protest as if about to give way and collapse under the weight. But it doesn't and at last it stops growing: the strange fruit is ripe, a bloated knot of wood large enough to contain a horse. (It does.) For a moment the forest is still again.

But the fruit decays at the same unnaturally quick pace at which it ripened. The soft, new wooden flesh blackens and rots visibly. It sags under its own weight, and then falls to pieces, giving off the wet dusty smell of thoroughly rotten wood. Inside the fruit is a horse, trembling and wild-eyed from the experience, and Lilike, who is a little calmer.

She looks curiously at the trees, for now she knows something of their nature. She knows what crimes they committed against her father, she knows why he inflicted this upon them rather than simply killing them. She knows the uses they have, and the risks they pose. And she knows their names.

"Czeref," she whispers into the night, "Poisonmaker, Whisperer, Traitor's kin. By these names I name you. You have wronged one of my blood. In his name I call upon that debt."

Though the tree cannot move she senses it is listening; the air is suddenly very still, as if the wind itself were holding its breath. Her father had surely never called upon them in this way; he'd used the trapped souls in his magics, as with the small pouch of seeds she had used to travel here, but never demanded their service. "Arise."

Ancient Czeref quivers. He is slow to rise, for he has grown stiff indeed in the thousands of years since his binding, but rise he does. His roots rip free from the earth that held them, becoming more like feet. His knotted branches flex, and become more like hands. Knotholes blink, and become something that is almost an eye. His flesh is still of wood; but he moves.

"Serve me and you may walk as men do," she tells him, and he bends his head to her.

All about them the wind whispers, and the other trees watch with naked hunger, plain to the eye even though they cannot move to express it. Lilike speaks more names, and the crimes that go with them: Eret, who lied to his liege-lord and in doing so brought about his death at the hands of a rival; Madri, who sought to free Barabde from his prison beneath the mountains; and many more, the conspirators and false allies of a thousand years of empire. Each assents to the binding, for they much desire to taste freedom; and what is one more oath to oathbreakers?

Then she speaks the name Dukala, who counseled rebellion, and the tree that responds is the one that brought her here. It is a broken thing, split all the way down the middle to reveal the hollowness inside, and it can no longer stand under its own weight. Great chunks are missing where parts of it fell away to release her. And yet it hears its name called.

Hesitantly she speaks the words, and it rips itself free from the earth just as the others did. Unlike them, it regains none of its lost humanity, and it does not stand upright, instead dropping fully to the ground. It cannot or will not hold still, dragging itself about on its shattered branches like a malformed spider, and in those aimless motions she reads its nature. There is malice in the crawling thing, a trapped and broken soul that is now free to inflict its pain in others.

Yet it does not approach her. The binding holds.

At last she is done; there are still trees rooted in the ground, but she knows not their names. She turns to them: a score of traitors and false counselors and inconstant allies, and four broken things crawling on the ground. Her servants.

Let Ba Shaan have his armies; she would do more with these than men with blades could ever hope to match.

You are not warriors, she says to them. I will not send you to defend our city against our foes. Strike where they are weak; that is your strength and your nature, and I think you would do it even if I commanded otherwise. The great river nourishes our foes, and you will take it from them. Curse it, dry it up, make it run red with blood or black with plague- whatever you will, so long as they cannot use it!

And with that she mounts her horse and begins the long ride back to the capital. The ancient traitors are slower to leave, relishing their newfound freedom—it has been long since they walked the world. They spread out, and after a few days each has reached one of the roots of the great river. They stand in the streams and whisper curses, poisoning them with words. From some, black bile oozes from beneath their bark, tainting the water; others allow dark and claustrophobic dreams to slip into the current, drawn from a thousand years of nightmarish imprisonment.

Downstream, the currents meet. A dozen different breeds of foulness mix and mingle, forming an oily black poison on the surface of the water. The traitors watch this, and begin to wade downstream, towards the city and towards their new mistress.

The siege is broken, only nobody knows it yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Earlier

The doors slam behind Lilike as she enters her quarters. Kylfa-Madur's daughter is in a black mood tonight, for once again Ba Shaan has ignored her, shunted all her suggestions to the side.

This is not a new thing, but tonight she is particularly angry, and in her fury she sees clearly. Ba Shaan does not simply seek to keep her from interfering in his responsibilities, as he claims. She could have respected that claim. For the past month, she'd tried to offer sorcerous aid rather than interfering with the deployment of his men (no matter how wrongheaded his strategies seemed). Time and time again he'd rebuffed her suggestions, and when she struck without consulting him he was rarely pleased with the results. He does not want to be happy with her efforts. He would prefer that she not attend to her duties at all. That way, he can defeat his four siblings himself, and take all the glory of the victory for himself. A strong beginning to his rule of their fathers' empire. And after? Why, he would want the same thing: him to do all the ruling, and Lilike to do nothing.

Ba Shaan has no intention of sharing his power.

Well, then. Two could play at that game.

She will break the siege herself.

hi-mi-tsu

2010-09-10, 08:39 PM

All who feel the approach of the lord of Death fall silent, their nervous chatter or pretend-profundity--or actual profundity--seeming stale and worthless when confronted with the aura of something so much greater than they could ever be. Calantha welcomes their chatter, and so for them has become a more approachable deity; she is still wild and unrestrained, it is true, but she is theirs. This god, with his age and his power and his feel...he is not theirs, nowhere even close. And so, as if of one mind, they fall away from the two gods, melting into side-rooms and alcoves.

And Calantha...Calantha watches the approach of her brother, measures his steps, with eyes that reflect everything and nothing. Pain, hurt, fear, sorrow, anger, guilt, grief, love, respect, familiarity, desperation...all war for purchase in the depths, and she strives for control. For this is not the brother that stabbed her, those years ago; this is not the brother that believed himself righteous.

...And yet, there was that messenger to contend with, and that messenger had not been in their past. No, that messenger had been obedient to the brother of now, to this creature that bore age-lines and laugh-lines and gray hairs atop his head, to this thing that had changed like a caterpillar into a butterfly, and suddenly the anger won through. For how dare he?!? How dare he change, and then bring that upstart to her, to insolently say she could not change, would not change, that she was still the same Calantha that had stood on the outskirts of Shale and screamed out her pain?

"So, you come." Her voice is a layered echo, something not heard for many years, not in that depth and range of emotion; she circles her elder brother, and her eyes flash, a green of jealousy and a black of hatred.

"You come, after sending a messenger who disrespects me, who insults me in my own home. You come now, and you sit before me changed, changed from who you were that night--oh yes, I remember. And yet your messenger insisted that I would not be changed, with his words, insisted my reaction to you would be the same as it was all those years ago..."

She comes to a stop at his head, and her hand clutches the cross around her neck, and blood from the unhealed wound she created when the messenger came oozes around the metal to drip onto the floor in front of her brother's eyes.

"Do you come to condemn me then, brother, as you did on the edges of Shale? You feel changed, but are you? I am changed, I know more and more and more, I feel as though I shall soon know everything..."

Her voice trails off, for a moment, and she looks somewhere to the back of her temple, lost in thought. Then, shaking her head, she rakes those eyes back across her brother once more.

"Speak!"

White Blade

2010-09-11, 03:42 PM

When Calantha begins to bleed, Garadiel's eyes flicker with something, but the flickering is gone before she understands it, and Garadiel's eyes return to being almost completely vacant. That is the only emotion that he shows for as long as she speaks, not flinching, not moving save to crane his neck, not doing anything but watching. His eyes follow her.

When Calantha and her siblings lived in the House in the Uttermost East, Garadiel had been a talker, full of chatter and idle comments and smart remarks. He is not so any longer. So when he speaks, it is after a moment of silence.

I am here to apologize for Shale. My words were rash and my acts were wrong. Garadiel says, the words snaking into Calantha's heart, even when she would prefer to do away with them. When he says I, she sees him standing before The World Tree, just barely off its shore, his brand shifting, his eyes staring at the mausoleum of his father. When he says apologize, she feels depths of deep regret that he knows for what he has done, sharp as the sting of Rognir's blade was upon his face those many years ago. The longing for forgiveness, and to be family again. She knows the word he refers to, and though she does not need to be reminded, she sees the shores of Shale again, though from Garadiel's eyes, not her own. She knows his acts also, and she feels not the cut of the blade, but the touch of its hilt. She is aware of the Calling, also, the creation of the Damned that seem to appear in cases of deep tragedy, and his regret for it. Though it is not to her that he apologizes for this.

Jair Barik

2010-09-11, 04:15 PM

As time went by the so called King in the East grew increasingly frustrated with the lack of results from his search. Armed as he was with weapons from Rognir's forge (nothing special, simply forged by the greatest of the Gods) it was no good. There were many people to search and in none he felt the spark of divinity. Worse still, he was running out of time. If either Faolan or Celestan had opted to follow him in his search they would quickly notice the man undergoing some unusual changes. His hair greying and wrinkles beggining to form on his previously youthful face as his skin darkened in colour.

TheDarkDM

2010-09-11, 04:59 PM

Faolan watched the mysterious stranger take what weapons he would from the stores in Rognir's Forge, seemingly lost in thought. Despite the power of the Children of Rognir, there were so many secrets they had no answers to, so many hidden things that, if ignored, could spell doom for his entire family. It was with these dark thoughts in his head that he bid farewell to the King in the East, and though he was not craftsman returned to Rognir's Forge. Staring into the fire of coals that would never be completely snuffed out, he considered all that had been sacrificed to bring the world this far, the deaths of Sovvenia and Raia and Rognir, and the manifold suffering of untold masses of mortals. And at his core Faolan knew that these were not the greatest challenges that lay ahead, for he had read Rognir's Chronicle and felt the unease that dwelt between its pages, the unspoken certainty of horrors yet undefeated and enemies far stronger than even the God Kings. Finally, Faolan looked away from the forge, and moved upon one of the many trinkets left there half-completed by Rognir. There was one that caught his eye, a shallow metal cylinder with an open top, obviously fitted for a cap of some sort. From his almost-forgotten human life, Faolan recognized the beginnings of a compass, and in a flash of inspiration knew what he must do. Plunging a hand into the Forge, Faolan winced as he plucked out one of the still-burning coals and deposited in in the metal container, forming a small brazier. Then, with utmost care, Faolan drew forth the pouch that contained the dust of Sovvenia's first body, divine particles that still emanated memory and though even as he held them through leather. Opening the top of the pouch, Faolan whispered words of the hunts, words of seeking and stalking infused with the powers of a god, and sprinkled them upon the burning coal. As the first golden particle touched the heat, the flame surged upwards, glowing hotter and brighter the more of the goddess it consumed. Eventually, the last particle consumed, Faolan held a pillar of white flame, a pillar that threatened to consume him and the House of the Uttermost East. Shouting out the last of his incantation over the roaring of the godflame, Faolan gripped the glass top he'd found amidst the refuse and brought it down on the pillar, sealing the inferno within the confines of the compass. For a moment, the flame threatened to break free, but then the edges of the compass melted into glass, and with the last of his words Faolan's power spread through the compass, sealing the power within. Looking down at the glass dome, Faolan saw only the blazing white of a newborn star, and knew he'd have to test his creation. Bringing the shining star to his lips, he whispered to it the thing that he sought, the first of many secrets he hoped would help save the world. Immediately, a deep red glow grew within the white flame, and soon an arrow of crimson fire had risen to the to, pointing west.

Faolan moved quickly the, invigorated by the presence of a clear direction to his search. Within a day he had ransacked Rognir's library for any book he though might help himself, his kin, or their people to prepare for the coming darkness. Filling every trunk and crate in Rognir's ship with this precious cargo, Faolan closed shut the House of the Uttermost East. Boarding his grandfather's ship once more, Faolan drew forth the Trueflame Compass and set his course, raising the Spear of Rognir high, no longer a crutch but instead a shining vanguard to cut through the obfuscation of time. And the ship sailed on from its dreary home, moving towards a small island to the West where a heartless man lay in slumber.

Acts Used:

1 Major Act to create the Trueflame Compass. So long as a living person is aware of the location of a spoken object or individual, the compass will point the way to the spoken objective, drawing on the living memories that permeate the space between reality and dream.

Raz_Fox

2010-09-15, 08:37 AM

The Dragon

On the eighth day of Faolan's voyage, the island he sought came into sight. The currents in this part of the sea were strong, and forced his ship this way and that, but still he sailed on, as straight as an arrow shot from the finest bow.

Then the sea darkened and a massive shadow fell over his ship. A mighty roar rang out, and the dragon falls upon the ship, overturning it with one mighty claw. Massive, black-scaled and seven-horned, it is quite likely the greatest dragon Faolan had ever seen.

And it's trying to kill him.

Jair Barik

2010-09-15, 02:48 PM

Dead.

He felt as though he had been dead for a long time. Though that was not the case. This was not like before, not like with Orgo. It was as though he had ceased to be. With no recollection of what had transpired the turn of events worried Nara greatly. It was time to put plans long thought of and long prepared into action. No... not action, not yet. There was still more preperations to make and now was the wrong moment. It was time to pay a visit to his brother, time to visit the forge of Eridi.

White Blade

2010-09-15, 05:23 PM

After Verdant's service in Hith
A Boat Goes North
The prow of the boat was of a viking model with a snake's head at the prow, made to Verdant's specifications. Its eyes were the most haunting thing, one of gold and one of silver, they seemed to glow. Why, some asked, had he wished those eyes? Weren't they haunting? Verdant said he wanted his enemies to think that A'gap himself were coming to eat them alive. Nobody really wanted to know why he chose that specific description, but there you are.

He set himself into the boat and waved the little port town he had come to goodbye, and his guard with him. The places to which he was going were no place for mortal men. He set the wind in his sails and headed north, as far north as he could go.

The first leg of the journey was dull. Fight the waves, beat the tide, go to sleep during the easy legs, catch fish, eat fish (oh, to be in Hith again and not have to eat fish), rinse and repeat. Something like the twentieth day, Verdant began to wonder if maybe the stories mortals told were true, and to the north there was only ocean, forever and ever without end.

But then the icebergs began to appear. They weren't just any icebergs either, there were.... things, trapped in them, locked in the ice as punishment for long-forgotten crimes. Their shapes were horrific, ghastly shapes, like the shadow of a lion mixed with a scorpion, or like the legs of a spider placed on to the torso of man. And the worst part was that when Verdant got close to them, the ice cracked and melted, screaming broke out and they attacked.

Watching them clamber up the sides of his bow was unpleasant for Verdant, and Verdant had to handle the first wave. They clambered up and down his boat, trying to reach him against the sloshing and shifting of the boat, and Verdant stood ready for them, his sword broke against the scorpion-lion, or man-spider, and it went down into the water, only to clamber up against, like the shadow of some immortal monster. In the end, he began to cut them to shreds and hang their limbs from his boat as a warning to the other strange creatures. It did not work and Verdant found their continuing motion unsettling. It always stopped eventually, but it was still disturbing.

Verdant's blade and shield were of godly make, and of tough form, but these foes were trapped here by Rognir himself, and their might was not inconsiderable. He slew one, then another, and it grew wearying, as the ice increased and the monsters grew in number. It went on for days on end, and sometimes Verdant had to cast anchor to rest and patch his wounds. The journey was hard. Eventually, the ice-monsters seemed to thin out, and Verdant promised himself that as long as he lived, he would never come back here. It was boring, frustrating, and gross, and it was not generally helpful.

The third length of the journey was better, though much more dangerous. Long, swirling vortexes of water threatened to capsize Verdant's boat at every turn, and monstrous sharks the size of the largest whales snapped at him. Verdant slew them all, and took their tanned hide and formed a cloak. He pulled his boat as close to the vortexes as he could for a challange, and saw in their depths sea-green men... Mermaids, he knew. He struck them with his blade and hung their skins along the sides of his boat, as a warning to the other mermaids. Soon enough the vortexes ceased, and the sharks stopped coming near.

Finally, as he drew near the edge of the Uttermost North, and as the ice began to come in sheets and not blocks, Verdant threw his anchor onto the ice, and took up his shark-flesh cloak, and braved the Uttermost North, in search of a scale of A'gap. It was unbearably cold. And the last thing he had expected, the last thing he had ever dreamed of... Was the wolves.

There were wolves... In a frozen tundra. Why were there wolves in a frozen tundra? Verdant didn't know. But what Verdant DID know was that real wolves were not nearly so lethal as these wolves were. They bayed and jumped on him, one after another, and it took all his skill and might to hold himself back from death. Their skin was like frost itself, and when he killed them, their blood came out in spikes of ice. He found it highly unjust, that killing them normally hurt him, but there was little to be done.

And then he heard It's baying and scratching. And the other wolves fled, and his lips clung to each other and his breath scarcely made it past his nostrils and everything in him told him to flee. But the leaf on his neck reminded him of his duty, of his pledge, and he walked forward. The wolf barked and howled and slammed against the ice, but it held him still. Thank Rognir.

Verdant came to the edge of the Wall, and saw the place where Faolan's armor had replaced the broken scales. But the mended sky did him little good. He had to go higher. He climbed, and reached and eventually, he was suspended directly up the hole from which the sun rose. Here, he was free from any of Faolan's handiwork. He wrenched free a scale, and heard the maddening drum of the enemy so loud in his ear, and he did not know how his father lived with it without going mad. And then he realized he was falling, as he had removed his own purchase. Unwise, really, but there you are.

He almost fell into the hole, which goes very deep. Verdant didn't really know where it went. But from the looks of it, it went very, very deep. Thinking quickly, he managed to cling to the rim with one arm... Which is when he saw the sun rising beneath the pit. How helpful. He hurled himself up with his arm, rolled over the wolf, and fled the sunrise, making it far enough away so as not to be blinded by it, as Selek had been all those years ago, clutching the scale of A'gap to his chest.

Then he got in his boat and went eastward.

Swift as Sunrise
Verdant was shocked to see how fast and easy it was to go towards his grandfather's house. The waters seemed to carry him, swift as the sunrise, and his prow and the first rays of morning were neck and neck for almost the first full hour, before at last, A'gap's eye could see farther than Verdant's own. Because of the great haste with which Verdant had moved his boat and because it had been neck in neck with the morning light, Verdant's boat was stained with the golden tint of sunrise and it received the name Sunrise. With the sunset, Sunrise made her harbor in the docks of the House in the Uttermost East.

Rognir's home. Though they had long since gone out, the mystic lights along the road to the house struggled to light themselves for Verdant's arrival, and he walked up the road in good weather. Eventually, he made it to the door and flung it open, making his way through the grand entrance hall of Rognir, and he walked by rooms that had once held power beyond the kin of any living god, and found them worthless. The Room of Maps was out of date, the Library of Rognir could only cling to the shadow of the wisdom Rognir had once used when he had bound the tomes, the Judgment Chamber no more held the stars that had damned Calantha and Aldric both, the Garden was laced with weeds, and the trophy room was covered in cobwebs. But Verdant did not seek those rooms and he turns left, and goes to the western most room of the house, and finds the forge, with its window opened, the one which Rognir had peered out from when he went to his demise.

Verdant entered the room and went to the furnace which had long since gone out and began to stir the coals when he was surprised to see a hawk settled on the mantle of the window, staring at him strangely. It had come to see if its master had returned, though Garadiel's words had informed it that his master was dead, still it held out hope that Rognir might return.

Rognir had not returned, but before the bird turned and left, Verdant spoke, "Wait, I have come to continue the errand for which your master died, will you carry a message to one of his sons for me?"

The hawk was a faithful bird, and agreed, so Verdant took and wrote a note, and handed it to the hawk. It carried it in its' grips, and flew west to seek Eridi, the Forge-Master.

And within the parchment were only the words, written in a hand so like Rognir's it would be painful for their reader, Eridi, I am working on something very special, please come to your father's house quickly.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-09-15, 08:46 PM

The Journey of Nari and the Fire God

Lancelot smiled and put his hands on the young woman's shoulders.

"Nari, I will do better than tell you what I remember of the time before the exile."

The god in disguise took out a scroll from his belt.

"Take these, for they are verses detailing the life of your ancestors, memories transcribed by none other than the late goddess Sovvenia in her sacred book. They will take a life of their own, once they are shared with your kind."

Then Lancelot took a few steps back.

"But that is for later, because right now we have to teach you self-defense, young lady!"

Many kinds of weapons were conjured out of thin air, right before Nari.

"Choose your prefered style! And then, try and hit me!"

Lancelot smirked and jumped unto a rock, then on a high branch of a nearby tree.

The_Snark

2010-09-16, 06:37 AM

War of the Five Princes

The armies of Aradoch retreated north, but that prince did not concede defeat. In every village and town he passed, he stopped to rally the people to his cause; and he sent riders out to either side, that they might spread the news even further. He spoke of the defeat at the capital, and named Ba Shaan and Lilike tyrants, who sought to subvert their fathers' will and claim the twin thrones of their own. It was the duty of all pious folk, he said, to rise up against the usurpers, and preserve the land for the eventual return of the God Kings. Most saw through these words to the naked ambition beneath, for Aradoch had governed the north for many years, and they knew his character; but there are always a few who will fight for gold and glory, and these flocked to his banner. He met with lords of similar mind, and they pledged their liege-men to his cause.

Thus did the armies of Aradoch grow.

The armies of Varis retreated south. Her forces marched hard, day and night, and before the summer months were done they had reached their homes. Then Varis released her soldiers to go to their homes, and it seemed for a time that she had given up her ambitions; those who knew her wondered at that, for it was unlike her to give up on anything. Her men took up plows and scythes, and that summer the rich soil of the southern provinces yielded a vast harvest.

Then did Varis reveal her intent, rallying a now-wealthy people to her cause. She rode across the countryside and spoke in towns and villages, promising them wealth and glory and conquest, and the passion in her voice spread like wildfire. There was no deceit as in the North, no pretense at propriety, only naked hunger; but that summer's prosperity had whetted the South's appetite, and Varis's hunger found favor with her folk. Farmers left their now-barren fields, and the cities of the south were all but emptied of able-bodied men. That autumn there was a second rich harvest, this one yielding soldiers.

Thus did the armies of Varis grow.

In the east Hissai was silent for a time, but eventually he too began to speak. Like Aradoch he spoke out against Ba Shaan and Lilike, and invoked the names of their fathers. They needed to defend themselves, he claimed, or one tyrant or another would claim them. Few men heeded his words, for he had neither Varis's passion nor Aradoch's smooth tongue; and for a time his armies remained small.

But silver is oft better than a silver tongue, and centuries of lucrative trade had made the port cities of the eastern coast immensely wealthy. The governor of the West offered a hefty sum to any able-bodied man or woman willing to serve, and they came, man and woman. That fall the cities of the West were filled with the clangor of newly-minted soldiers practicing for war, and the smithies rang day and night forging arms and armor. Thus did the armies of Hissai grow.

Ba Lutei had no province of her own, and many thought that she would now concede to one of the other princes, perhaps ask forgiveness from her twin brother in exchange for lending him her armies. Yet she did not. Like the others she wandered the lands, and in each town people turned out to listen. Few welcomed her; when they looked at her they saw a woman who was willing to go to war with her close kin for the sake of her ambitions. They were not her people. They owed her no special respect. But they listened.

She spoke simply and honestly: the God Kings were gone, and though everyone prayed for their swift return, it might be a very long while before that happened. In the meantime, somebody needed to keep the peace; the last few years had proven that fact. The war would not stop until one of Ateris' restless children became strong enough to enforce peace. Therefore it was the duty of all pious folk to decide for themselves which prince would be the best regent, and march to support that prince, that the war might be decided as swiftly as possible. She herself had made this choice, and now stood against her twin brother—the closest kin she had in the world—because she felt he would make a poor king. He was a great warrior, she said, but great warriors are often not great rulers. He was still young, and in him there was a burning desire to do great deeds and prove himself equal to his father, and while this was a great thing in a hero it could lead a nation to disaster. Men and women listened to her words and nodded, and though not all joined her, many were won over by her wisdom and honesty.

Thus did the armies of Ba Lutei grow.

In the greatest city in the world—not so great after the long siege, but still magnificent enough to outshine the stars at night—Ba Shaan and Lilike ruled uneasily. They heard of Aradoch's clandestine meetings with the lords of the north, and of Hissai offering coin for soldiers. They saw Varis's long, suspicious silence, and worried what schemes she might be concealing. They heard of Ba Lutei's speeches; Ba Shaan's mood was black for days after hearing what his sister had said of him.

Both knew that they could not afford to let this continue, or they would soon rule nothing but the capital. Yet neither wished to leave the other alone in the capital, where they could secure the loyalty of the men there, and for months nothing happened. At last Ba Shaan swallowed his pride and came to Lilike, and said that she should leave the city to rally support for them in the countryside. It was his place to defend, so he should stay; it was hers to strike at their foes; therefore she should be the one to go.

At this she laughed, and told him this was not her war. Her place was not in danger, after all; no other children of Kylfa-Madur had stepped forth to claim it. She had ended the siege because it suited her to aid the people of the city. She'd come to him first because he seemed best suited to the regency, but if he could not fight his own battles, perhaps he didn't deserve it. She didn't care either way; she would rule beside whichever of Ateris's heirs proved victorious.

Ba Shaan knew he had lost an ally, and gritted his teeth in frustration. It pained him even more now to leave the capital in Lilike's hands, yet he had no choice; if he didn't, one of his siblings would defeat the others, then bring the full might of the empire down on him. He gathered his men and set out, and like his sister spoke in the central lands. He exhorted the men of the Far West to rally to him as the rightful heir of Ateris. He had been hand-picked to govern the greatest city in the world, not the others; he was chosen to rule the heart of the empire. Until his divine father returned to revoke his leadership, it was treason and heresy of the highest order to go against him.

His words had no cleverness, no infectious passion, no wisdom, and no wealth to back them, but like Ba Shaan himself they were forceful. His claim was strong, and slowly the people of the ravaged center lands rallied to that strength.

Thus did the armies of Ba Shaan grow.

TheDarkDM

2010-09-16, 11:20 AM

The Dragon was rather unexpected.

Though he tried desperately to control the ship, planks and sailcloth were little match for the might of a beast of legend, and so the ship capsized, spilling Faolan into the murky depths below. For a moment, the mere presence of the massive creature had stunned him, rooting him at the wheel, the the slap of cold and the biting taste of salt catapulted him out of his stupor. Looking out over the deck in a panic, Faolan saw some of the chests carrying his precious cargo, and knew he had little time before the water seeped through the matted oilcloth of the bolted lockers. He reached out, seeking any trace of earth or stone with which to raise the ship, but they were too far down, leaving Faolan stranded in the savage tides of the Eastern Sea. For a moment, Faolan despaired as he gripped Rognir's spear and prepared for a fight he would surely lose - but then he felt it. In his mad groping for an trace of the earth, his consciousness had brushed something else, something similar. This new force flowed faster than the earth, and more savagely, but at its heart it was the same. And Faolan knew he was feeling the ocean around him, and for the first time he truly understood how it meshed with the earth that held it.

After the ship had capsized the dragon circled lazily, waiting for the foolish captain of the vessel to emerge and offer ti combat, for surely a being of enough hubris to steal the Ship of Rognir would not simply admit defeat. Once, twice, three times the vast shadow passed over the hull of the overturned vessel, until it truly seemed that no one would come. With a snort of disappointment, the dragon began a sweeping turn back towards its lair, before it was interrupted by a rise in the wind. Looking back towards the ship, the great beast saw the sea begin to roil beneath the hull, until an unnatural up-swell suddenly righted the ship, and the water seemed to fly off it like iron repulsed by a magnet. A low growl grew in the dragon's throat as its eagle eyes scanned the deck for signs of life, but there were none. Flying back to finish the job it had started, the defender of the Sword noticed too late the unnatural whirlpool that had grown in its shadow, spotting it just as Faolan burst from beneath the waves, propelled by a geyser of deep blue, the Spear of Rognir shining in his had.

The head of the spear punched through the scaled hide of the dragon, embedding itself in its shoulder. With a roar of all-too-familiar pain, the dragon whipped around in midair, attempting to shake the barb loose, but Faolan's grip was strong, and as he clutched to the God-Forged spear he called out to the wind.

"I am Faolan Wolf Lord, God of the North! I have come to reclaim the blade cast aside by my Grandfather, Rognir, that I may safeguard the world from its enemies now that he is dead! And neither god nor demon shall stop me."

With that, Faolan pulled the Spear from its mooring during a particularly violent turn, leaping to bury it again in the upper back of the raging thunderstorm that was his opponent.

Actions Used:

1 Major Act to gain Water Mastery, a bit sooner than I was expecting to.

White Blade

2010-09-16, 11:57 AM

Before Verdant Left Hith
It had taken many months to find the locus of the Araphim cult. One of the high generals, a youth much as himself, named Evorin. A charismatic, brave, and truly selfless man, conceived to Araph by a woman on the day the sun burned black. His valiance was all that had held back the enemy in the days of trouble, before Verdant had arrived. He had not complained as his fame had faded, nor been bitter at the squire of Rognir, for Rognir was no more, and there need be no more squabbles over him. The host of the enemy gods had lived, when Araph had died, so Evorin was resolved to await the day when he and his brothers and sisters were mighty enough to oppose the demon Rognir's spawn. He was certain he had siblings, though he did not know them.

So one night, it was to his great surprise that he entered his private dining hall and saw Verdant sitting at the table. His servants looked cowed, and Evorin was suspicious.

Why have you come this day? Evorin said forcefully, his heavy sword beneath his hand, his shield on his wall.

"Evorin... Is that any way to treat a cousin? Sit down, and let me tell you what has become of our fathers."

Evorin glared. Araph the Mighty had only one sibling, only one other who had nursed at the breast of A'gap. And that meant that this man was a son of Rognir.

Rognir's spawn, why have you come here this day? Evorin repeated himself.

"To tell you the tale of our fathers, of course. The real one, not the one the priests tell."

Evorin was curious, for he was a wise man, and he sat down at the table. Explain.

And so Verdant began to tell the tale, of how A'gap had one sibling, and only one.

In the beginning, the great black darkness stretched out across the earth and there was neither sun nor light, but from a tiny seed grew forth a tree that now stands taller than the world. And from this tree came another seed, not at all like the first, and then another. The great mother A'gap, her shining eyes the world's only light and her invincible scales it's only guardian, and the Great Foe, his infinite hate the only thing driving onward his empty host.

The Great Mother gave birth to two sons, Araph and Rognir. And together, they fashioned the world beneath their mother's watchful eyes, and for awhile, all was well. A'gap's pride at her sons bloomed and grew, as did the jealousy of the Great Foe. So one day, in the depths of night when all the world slept, the thief slipped in and killed A'gap. When her sons awoke beneath her arms, they found their mother was dead, and that her skin no longer protected the world, and her eyes no longer lit it. So together they devised a cunning plan, and with great regret, Rognir hung her skin to guard her world with honor and Araph gouged out her eyes and hung them in the sky. Then there came a disagreement between the brothers, I could not tell you what it was for it was petty and foolish but, their anger was roused. and they came to blows. There beneath the Tree that bore them they made battle.

Eventually, they realized how foolish their actions were, and they made a covenant together. One would go west, the other would go east. And until the day that the Great Foe had turned their mother's stronger eye black, they would not meet again. When it did they would go together, as of one mind and form.

So Araph went west, and mastered all the arts of men, and made a kingdom for himself. And Rognir went east, and mastered all the cunning craft of spirits, and built himself a house to dwell in alone. Araph was a greater lord to men, it was true, but Rognir was a father, and had collected children for himself, who he trained and taught and uplifted. And then these children he set free to do as pleased them.

But Araph was angry with Rognir, for he felt that the pact had been broken, and so he sent his missionaries to the East, and established a church.

But on the day the sun turned black, all these feuds were forgotten. The one marched east, the other west, and when Raia the War-Bringer made to block the way of this stranger, he had no choice but to level his blows against her, and she fell, because her father had not forewarned her of his brother. And due to his grievous wounds, Araph arrived nearly defeated, and Rognir was displeased, but the Great Foe made his attack on their mother's honor, and they defended her to the end.

Both died in the effort, but they drove back the Foe's host, and now the Children of Rognir and the Children of Araph must ready themselves to do so again, on the day he dishonors their grandmother's hide.

Evorin was in shock, I... Do not know what to say. Your story seems true to me though, what must I do, Cousin? How do we prepare for this day?

"Ready your men, be no one's servant, be something other than your father's little image, and make a path for yourself to Godhood, and a place among the stars."

I will, Cousin. Is there anything I might do to repay you?

Verdant looked thoughtful and said, "I have need of better weapons than these," he said, pointing at Veresi's sword now dull and buckler now dented.

In a display of generosity that any friend of Eglasian would have been impressed by, Evorin took his own sword off his waist and his shield off the wall and gave them to Verdant, You shall not find better, Evorin said, My father left them with my mother for me. Verdant smiled and thanked him, and then Evorin left the nation of Hith forever, to find his place among the stars, and the Church of the Araphiem crumbled without him.

Carden

2010-09-16, 12:27 PM

Eridi listened to Celestian intently, even if he gave off a feeling of ignoring him. He fiddled with one of his new inventions while his cousin spoke, and when he was finished, grabbed one and lifted it for him to see. "Fire is passion. That's what the great dragon Ligbryne taught me, and it's what I've noticed ever since. In fact, I see it in you, here and now." Setting the heart on fire was an easy task with his ring, and from the flame a humanoid figure emerged, engulfing the heart. "Go south and wait for further orders." Eridi instructed it, and with a nod, it left.

Looking back to his nephew, he started again. "No, I have exactly as much a right to deny my re-fleshed family your visitation as you have in visiting them, none. That's why I'm going to end up giving you the census records, because I can't honestly keep them from you, but I do implore you to not go to them as a god. Go in a mortal cloak if you must go, and know them as a friend. Do not burden them with knowledge they were once a god, or I fear you will change them and take what freedom they had to change in their lives, to choose differently."

Glancing over at the documents, the craftsman let out a sigh, "Take them if you must. I doubt you'd abuse them like some would. I think, when it comes to humanity, we do almost see eye to eye. I've never pretended to be greater than them. Certainly, I know I am better at making things, but my profession limits me."

Eridi & Verdant - First Impressions

Eridi had been busy in the days after Celestian left. He had awakened two more of his inventions, the "Elementals" he had dubbed them. Water he had sent north and Earth west. That left only Air in between him and the start of his ritual. A heart of twisted diamond, carved elegantly and without equal, Eridi had tried everything he could think of to get it to awaken, but to no avail.

Sitting in his chair, he continued to ponder how he could finish his task when his father's messenger hawk arrived. Eridi didn't know the bird, but it carried more than enough of a hawk's superiority to show it had been favored by a god once. Opening the message, Eridi was immediately pained. For a brief second, he allowed himself to think Rognir still lived, but he knew that to be foolish. He had personally seen to burying his father, and this script, while similar, had noticeable differences. Taking the diamond heart, he went to go meet this person who knew his name.

Scrawling the runes in the dirt in his forge, Eridi was in no hurry. Still attuned to his father's forge, this was an incredibly quick way east, much quicker than when he had traveled by boat. Leaving one line undrawn, he stepped into the circle and quickly moved his foot. The circle completed, his body lurched towards this newcomer, seemingly instant, but lasting long enough to cause the craftsman discomfort. He resigned himself to traveling home by wing.

Stepping forward, he noticed the palpable emptiness of the house before his nephew. The house lamented it's lack of ownership, but that wasn't why he was here. "So," he spoke tentatively, almost as if he was sneaking through, "you're the one Garadiel spoke of when he said he had a child. The resemblance is noticeable. Another nephew, eh? Well, then, care to explain why am I here?"

Act Expenditure
1 Minor - Create Divine Servant (Fire Elemental)
1 Minor - Create Divine Servant (Water Elemental)
1 Minor - Create Divine Servant (Earth Elemental)

Kaiser Omnik

2010-09-16, 12:42 PM

Celestan and Eridi

Celestan took the documents handed by Eridi and smiled.

"You are as wise as they say, Eridi! Thanks again."

And the Fire God set off to the Eastern Islands.

White Blade

2010-09-16, 03:15 PM

Verdant, the son of Garadiel, sighed. The resemblence was pronounced, if you knew where to look, though Verdant favored his grandfather very heavily. He had Garadiel's smile and a stranger's eyes, but he was tall, like Rognir, even though Garadiel had been about Eridi's height. He had his grandfather's shoulders and arms and face. His hair was the obsidian black of his grandfather's youth and his hands bore their ancestor's appearance.

Verdant lifted up a scale of some massive serpent, it was large enough to serve as a shield. It reflected light strangely, and it seemed to bear memories within its scale. Memories to shield and preserve the mind, things people cling to, when nothing else remained.

"Do you know what this is?" Verdant asked.

Even as he asked, Eridi noticed the fire. It seemed different somehow, unique. It reminded Eridi of the time when his father had shown him the Fires of Creation, as he had cautioned Eridi against using divine power as a crutch in craftsmanship. The fires had warped and bended and made almost perfect products. But you couldn't learn to make a true masterpiece that way. He had made a perfect cup with it though, a cup that would never run empty and would cure it's drinker of every ill, and said that when the day came, Eridi could use his divine might to finish a masterpiece.

Raz_Fox

2010-09-16, 05:09 PM

Faolan Dragonslayer?

The sound that a dragon makes when its scales - thick as tree-trunks - are pierced and the flesh beneath lanced is some foul mixture of a siren's scream and an ox's bellow, louder than the eruption of a volcano. Were Faolan not a god, his ears would have been ruptured by the sheer power of the terrible sound.

Its movements were now violent, seeking to throw this stinging mite off of its back, twisting in mid-air with incredible dexterity for a being of its size, gouts of hellish fire coming from its maw.

"Pitiful worm! No ship may come to harbor on shores untarnished by man, and neither god nor demon nor faerie may pass the way! It matters not that you foolishly repeat the name of ancient Foldardróttinn, naming him your sire - I shalt crush thee utterly for thy insolence, and break thy bones into eight thousand shards!"

TheDarkDM

2010-09-17, 06:36 AM

As waves of heat from the great dragon's breath rolled over Faolan, he clung for dear life to the Spear of Rognir. Were it an ordinary spear, it would have snapped at the first jolt of the beast's spine, but it was no ordinary spear. And had Faolan been anything less than a god, the cataclysmic upheaval of the monster's back would have sent him falling to his doom. But Faolan was a god, and more than that, he had a mission. So he clung, losing his footing from time to time, jerked through the air by the desperate thrashing of the largest being he had ever faced. The movements were savage, chaotic, but eventually Faolan discerned a pattern in the way the back would writhe when it curled away, and with a mighty heave he pulled the Spear from the back and leapt forward, burying his anchor once again.

This was how the hours passed, Faolan trying desperately to keep from falling into brutal seas or blazing flame. And every time the dragon would tire, even for a moment, Faolan would make a desperate leap a little bit closer to its head. Eventually, with a pattern of minuscule wounds behind him, Faolan reached the bank of might horns that ringed the draconic head, burying the Spear at the base of one of the seven. Leaning down to stare the beast in one of its great eyes, Faolan bellowed above the wind.

"I respect your devotion to your duty, but Rognir is dead, and the darkness that he held at bay now threatens to swallow us whole. Only by gathering the mighty tools he used to banish the darkness the first time can we hope to prevail. Please, I have no wish to kill you - let us stop this conflict and work together to ensure the safety of the world."

Kasanip

2010-09-17, 06:57 AM

Nari and Lancelot

The look of surprise on Nari's face turned to awe as Celestan gave her the scroll.

It was a history that she desperately wanted to read, but Celestan had taught her many things of patience in the journey, and so she put it away.

The awe on her face turned to do a rueful kind of grin. There was excitement in her eye, and for a second Celestan saw something a little nostalgic in Nari.

"If it is a weapon to hit a bird in the tree... Then surely it is the bow that should be used!" She said. And she reached for the pearl and wood bow that hung in the air.

To hit a God? Of anything to think is impossible, that would be such a thing for a mortal... But the Shiuk people had a legacy of this. Long before, Ya-un-Kurumi, who was the greatest of the Shiuk and most revered, had tied Raia, the Goddess of War in a competition of Archery. So it was that the Shiuk always prided archery and taught it from a young age. Even in Exile, these tales were passed down, so it was that Nari had confidence with her pull and fired at Lancelot.

But as the arrow flew, the bow changed in her hands to a folding fan of beauty, and on which was a tale in pictures. It was ornate, but the pictures were empty and lacked color or detail except at the very beginning, so it couldn't be read. Nari looked at it in surprise and slight wonder, and she looked at Celestan accusingly as if he was joking. But she pointed the closed fan at him.

And there again was something in her stance that looked like a general directing soldiers to charge.
Or it would if Nari's charming nature did not quite disarm that thought.

Maybe the arrow would hit him. Or at least, that was Nari's hope. Maybe with a fan she could blow the winds of fortune in her favor.

White Blade

2010-09-17, 09:52 AM

Before Verdant Left Hith
The King's Daughter
Verdant was riding to the king's palace when a black horse with a rider in white appeared beside him, the rider's hair long and flowing behind her, and the rider looked at Verdant, So, Sir Verdant, squire of Rognir, how fast can you ride?

Verdant considered evenly before responding, "Fast as the wind, swift as the sunrise, if I have need. Is there any need?"

Ha! No, not really. the rider replied, Just curious as to how fast my father's favorite pet could run.

So that's who she was, and how her horse was keeping pace, "I'm no one's pet." Verdant growled angrily

Really? the princess asked, and when she saw Verdant nod, Then how's this, you beat me to the palace, I'll show you around the back corridors the servants aren't supposed to know about.

Verdant grinned at the girl, this would be easy, "Agreed."

And then her horse shot off like a lightning bolt. So Verdant silently cursed himself for giving over initiative, and then his horse was off. He lost, in the end. The princess hurled herself off her horse a few inches ahead of him and made a tumbling land, not at all appropriate for one of her stature, touching the door before he did. Dang it. She smiled at him, Pity for the squire, who can't beat a common mortal. Maybe next time champ,

From that day forward, Verdant watched her more closely... For purely business reasons, of course.

The Giants
Hith's Giant problem was a little larger than most giant problems. Not just because there were more giants, but because there were larger giants, and their lord was a massive, hundred foot tall, bull-headed beast. Verdant had spent months researching where exactly he lived, when he wasn't on the rampage, and decided it would likely be in the eastern mountains of Hith, so he went to explore there.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-09-18, 10:04 AM

The Journey Comes to an End

Lancelot thought he would have no difficulty evading Nari's shot; and at first it looked like it was the case. The god jumped and gripped a higher branch. But as he did, an invisible hand seemed to guide the arrow up, away from its original course! Lancelot pulled himself unto the branch, and the arrow passed right by him. However the arrow wouldn't let him get off so easily, and it returned, charging! Lancelot evaded again and again the relentless attacks, moving from one branch to another. Eventually he fell on the other side of the tree, away from Nari's eyes. And when he came back around, the arrow was nowhere to be seen. The fire god approached Nari smiling and observed the mysterious fan.

"Don't look at me like that; I did nothing. This," he said pointing at the...weapon in Nari's hands, "was all you. You see, I told you you have immense potential."

Unbeknown to the young woman, Lancelot was hiding the hat he had been wearing behind his back. It was pierced by her arrow.

---

During the following months, Lancelot taught Nari how to develop her reflexes and agility, and how to best take advantage of her opponent's moves. He could train her in the basics of archery and hand to hand fighting, but Celestan was no god of war - fortunately, Nari learned very quickly. As for mastering her powers, there was nothing he could teach. Lancelot insisted that the key to her magic laid insider her, and that there was probably more than one ways to access them. Practice, meditation, those were some ways - but Nari had shown that she was best when dealing with people, and as such Lancelot encouraged her to open her heart and mind to other people like she had done with the ratmen.

There was much hard work, and many perils on the road to the North. But also times of great rejoicing, and much laughter. Finally, the two companions reached the end of their travels, as the homes of the Shiuki in exile appeared on the horizon.

"Well, young lady! It seems this is your stop. What a year, heh? Wait, I have a gift for you!"

Lancelot looked through his bag and handed Nari a bundle of incense sticks.

"My last gift was to your people. This one is for you. When it is needed, you'll know. It is greatly potent. It is said that even before my mother Sovvenia was born, when the human race was still very young and primal monsters roamed the land, already there were people who burned sacred incense in rituals; they thought it allowed their spirit to touch the heavens, if only for a moment. These sticks are...a bit different. You'll see."

His clothing changed and Lancelot became Celestan once more. He headed the other way, but turned one more time to Nari.

"Farewell, Nari. May your star burn bright!"

I cannot express my happiness at seeing you again, sensei..., he thought, before turning into a fireball and launching south.

OOC: Burning this incense will allow Nari to commune with Celestan once she becomes a demigod/goddess and spend a ceremony with him at any time.

Kasanip

2010-09-18, 11:00 AM

Nari and Lancelot - A Parting, and a New Journey Begins

The time had seemed to go by so quickly. But for every meeting, maybe someday there will be a parting. And that kind of somber thought at last came even with the joy of meeting her people again.

Nari had learned so much from Lancelot from that time. That year she had been traveling had changed her- she wasn't lost anymore. Anywhere, she had hope and faith in herself and her own ability. She had nurtured a heart that was open and unafraid, and she wanted to share that with others.

She had learned how to defend herself from Lancelot, but his words always reminded her that her strength lay within. Maybe not in a weapon, but herself. And she had learned that everyone could have that strength, even as she held the gifts that Lancelot- Celestan- had given to her and her people. A lantern of passionate hope, and incense for prayer and resolve.

So when at last it was that Lancelot turned to leave, Nari took his hand - not to think of him as a God, but a friend as well. And she smiled to him gratefully and humbly, but with understanding and acceptance.

"You have done so much for me, there can never be a way I may pay you a return. But ever if there is something I can do for you, please ask me freely.

Maybe it is a parting for us here, but I feel we will meet again, if it is our Fortune."

And then Nari bowed in the Shiuk way as he left.

Rising again, she turned to finish her journey....and begin the next.

Nari and the Aptok-un-Shiuk - Another Scholarly Child?

Gathered again at last, the Aptok-un-Shiuk rejoiced and were happy to see Nari returned, and with the gifts she had. They were amazed with the stories she told, of the Dragon-King, which she showed the pearls and jewelry. She told of her travels through the south, and the aid of Celestan, the God of Fire- but she did not reveal everything, treasuring her memories of those times and holding them in her heart. But her stories inspired tears and laughs as she retold it, long into the night before they went to rest. The fan's images slowly gained some color.

The next morning at last they were ready again- the refugees to return to Toukoku, the journey they had set out on over a year before. Spirits were high, but there were hardships ahead. The tengu had grown aggressive and wild in their ways in the years after the destruction of Toukoku, and so it was dangerous to take the northern mountain passes.

Knowing this, the Aptok-un-Shiuk were grim, and thought to prepare themselves for struggle. They would not turn away now, but if it was necessary, they would fight.

Nari however, remembered well some of the teachings of Celestan, and in the scroll she studied laboriously, and read about the tengu and her ancestors who had long had dealings with them. For many days she studied it as they journeyed north.
To learn the history, she began to understand, and inspiration came to her. Perhaps they could resolve this without violence, and so she went on ahead to the legendary guardian mountain of the tengu.

Nari and the Tengu

Nari rode to the mountain Kuzan, which still stood proud at the edge of the valley. She had long been spied on by the tengu who lived there, though Nari's own skills were sharp and she guessed much of their plans. She herself had prepared today- having learned many valuable lessons from Celestan. Not all battles needed to be won with a sword or bow. But anything she did here would be difficult.

She held the fan in her hand tightly as she rode up the mountain, and at last, there was a terrible screeching as the Kuzan tengu revealed themselves in ambush, surrounding her. But they did not attack, and she did not flinch away. From the crowd, the mightiest tengu approached. It was Tengu Oneclaw, who now looked upon Nari. And in her he immediately recognized the hints of something unique. In his hawk eyes he could see her beauty and charm, though he was curious of the fan she held, and pearls she wore- the tengu were not sea-folk either, and had no knowledge of these things.

"Why have you come here today young featherless one? This is no longer the domain of humans or shiuk." He said with scorn, marching up and looking into Nari's eyes. Though Nari sat on her horse, the great tengu's head was even with her own. But Nari did not give him a look of fear or unease, but bowed her head in the Shiuk manner.

"I have come for mediation, master tengu." She said. "It is said that of the warriors of the world, there are none who can match the tengu, and of the tengu, the one known as Oneclaw is peerless."

While it was true that of the tengu, the Kuzan were by far the greatest warriors, and among them OneClaw surely was the best, Nari's words played to every tengu's greatest weakness: Pride. OneClaw's glare softened just a little as he studied Nari's face.

He laughed. "And it is said that the young maidens of the Shiuk are perceptive and true natured." Was the tengu's response. Nari likewise gave him a humble smile. The tengu paced in a circle and then stopped in front of her again.
"Name yourself young featherless one."

Nari bowed again.
"I am Nari, daughter of the Steppes and the Aptok-un-Shiuk, who were refugees from Toukoku. I am one of the people of Ya-un-Kurumi, your old comrade, and it is with his name, and the Shiuk name, that I come to you today."

Tengu looked thoughtful at this but was silent.

"My lord," She continued, bringing forth her earnestness and charm. "Though we of the Shiuk are skilled in the way of the bow, we are inferior to the tengu in the ways of war and battle. As you know, great Tengu, the people of Shiuk have suffered greatly since the fall of Toukoku. It is my hope that with your aid, that I may ease their suffering and unite them again."

The great tengu stomped his talon foot.

"The Kuzan tengu do not desire the people of Shiuk to be united, to be turned against us. What advantage to me that I should allow such a thing?"

This was where Nari's plan was most troubled, for she had heard some whispers of her heart, and knew the tengu were perceptive. To lie to them or make excuse would not work and only show weakness. But she was not afraid.

She dismounted and knelt before the tengu, and looked up at him earnestly.

"My lord, long ago you served our goddess Raia, who had defeated you in battle fairly. She is gone, and you have rightly resumed your place as the greatest of the tengu. You have united your own people, and now rule them justly.
How can I try to do the same for my people, if I cannot learn from your greatness? There is nothing I can offer you my lord, except the friendship of the Shiuk people, and my own service to you. I promise to end the conflict between the Tengu tribes. Let me speak to them for you, and soon you may be the lord of all the tengu. I only ask your friendship and peace with the people of Toukoku and Shiuk. Please consider!" She said, bowing her head to the grass.

Tengu Oneclaw looked at her again, and something in her form reminded him of Raia. Tengu also have imaginations, and so in his dream here, he thought he could see Raia before him, meek and humble. And to see Raia bow before him in such a pleading manner, he was pleased. The friendship of the Shiuk did not have much weight, for this girl would have to unify them first. But to have this girl, who was filled with a light and beauty unseen in the tengu... yes, the vice of a tengu is pride. But Tengu are cunning, and even OneClaw knew to bargain from a high position, for tengu are masters in this play.

Tengu OneClaw cleared his voice with a squawk.

"Rise then, featherless one. Your plea has reached my ear, and I have decided. All of the tengu tribes will gather, and I will allow you the chance to mediate. If you succeed, then forever will the tengu under my rule swear their peace and friendship with yours. If you should fail however, then I shall claim your land, and call upon your people to unite the tengu by force. I will tolerate no other deal, for this is of my own benevolence to the Shiuk and your lineage." With such a plan, it would be a win for the OneClaw in any case. But Nari knew her plan had worked, but she guarded her smile when she agreed.

--==--

Tengu Affairs

The assembly of the Tengu were all gathered now upon Kuzan. The warring factions still had their blades, and eyed each other angrily. Tengu are cunning, and an ambush here was expected from all. Nari had prepared long ahead, adorning herself with flowers of spring, and the pearls of the sea, so that she could make her appeal. To make one mistake here would surely fall to doom, so she relied on good fortune and her own ability to survive.
A lesser human, should they have entered such a gathering, would have been scorned and mocked. But all insults failed when Nari entered, for she was beautiful, but somber and sad. Her colors were of Toukoku's flowers, and so was the fragrance that followed, so that the Tengu looked upon her, and thought of their homes in nostalgic and yearning thoughts. Memories of old times and battles: of friends lost and the sorrow and loneliness that had followed.

"Honored Lords, we are all children of this land. The name may be different, the aerie, or the house. But it is a beautiful place we call our home. For many years it was the land of the Tengu, and for a time too, we humans came and lived here together peacefully. But you all know what war can do. All of you lost brother and tribe in battle. You have seen the land burn in horrible ways. You have seen so many things, great Lords... You are the Tengu. You are strong beyond us humans, and your wisdom is divine." Nari spoke, her words passionate with the fires of the Lamp, and as she looked in the eyes, all of the Tengu were silent in full attention.

"Though I was young even when the lands here burned, all of you have suffered as well since that time. The ones who divided and drove you apart were not yourselves, but other powers in the world at work. All of you have endured and grown strong over that time, and what a great race the Tengu are! Your weapons and might are known throughout the world, yet you have not spread beyond these lands of old. Your cunning and wisdom is praised in stories everywhere in the east and south, but it is rare if a tengu is ever seen by a human.

So I ask you..why do you fight against each other? This conflict once made the tengu the strongest, but now it makes chains of you. You are the great and proud tengu! The fiercest and strongest in the world! You are unmatched! But then....why are your lands so empty? Who is to blame for the poison but yourselves? I am a young and foolish human, but I can see these things, and so I know you Great Lords understand it well.

Remember the glory of the tengu when they marched all together? The sounds of the drum and the smell of victory?"

She paused, and folded her hands in front of her.

"Where are the days of glory? Will this path truly give you the nobility the tengu may achieve? Please think, my lords." She finished, softly, but it was an earnest hope.

And the tengu were silent. The vice of a Tengu is pride, but so then, Guilt may be an opposite of Pride. And Nari's words and beauty had inspired them of all the things they loved (for of course, Tengu love as well as hate). Warrior hands moved away from weapons, and for once they thought of each other. A brother who had fought beside another years before, who was now an enemy. It was uncomfortable. For the tengu had been united under Raia, and so now they fought against each other, who were once friends. And in enduring the catastrophe they had hardened their hearts, but now that armor was turned with her voice. Nari's words spoke of friends and things lost, and the Tengu well remember these things.

And so at last there was a single agreement.

Yes.

The tengu would stop fighting each other.

And so the Tengu agreed to the oath of their lord, the greatest tengu, OneClaw, and so they were reunited.
And Nari's face glowed with joy as she returned down the mountain.

White Blade

2010-09-18, 02:57 PM

It had once been a mystery as to why the giants had gone from periodic raids to full out assault. But Verdant's guard were experts in stealth as well as battle, and their investigations revealed the truth. A little baby giant had been born with the head of a bull and had grown to be a very LARGE baby giant, that grew, in turn, to a truly massive giant. This great Giant, its infernal bull's head as cunning as any giants' could be, had needed more space than was afforded by the mountains, and so had come down to a valley.

Verdant had devised a cunning plan, and a brilliant plot, to bring down the mighty giant, but alas, the cunning plan was falling to pieces. He stood alone on the countryside, but his men were hidden in bush and bramble. Alas, the enemy seemed to have a similar idea. The small mounds of earth might have gone unnoticed by one of less sharp eyes, but they were clearly disturbed ground and the giants almost certainly hid beneath them.

Then the great Giant came down the mountain pass... Or rather, around the mountain pass. He was nearly the size of a mountain himself, and his head scraped the clouds and jeered the heavens. His massive horns were sharp, his eyes were clouded with blackened wrath. His great voice was terrible and thunderous, like the eruption of a volcano, Verdant! Have you come alone?

"But of course, Noble Giant-King!" Verdant replied, lying through his teeth.

Good! the Giant-King answered, Giants! Attack! A small battalion of giants, perhaps two hundred, appeared like moles from beneath the earth

Verdant didn't even blink as he drew the blade and shield that Evorin had given him, his hands swift. He slew three giants as the Giant King moved forward, approaching him and his men and making to stamp them all out in one swift motion. Verdant shouted to his men, "Scatter!" and then, he lifted up Evorin's shield against the Giant's foot, trying to hold it back.

And it worked, Evorin's shield bending beneath the weight of the great giant, but not falling, not failing. It bent, and continued to bend, even as the giant raised up his other foot, and Verdant's knees buckled beneath its terrible weight. He trembled, and thought to himself that even Ateris would have buckled eventually beneath the Giant's terrible weight. And then the Giant King lost his balance and toppled backwards, squashing half his giants, and closing the mountain pass.

The Giant King did not die from such a little fall however, and he was very quickly regaining his foot. Verdant looked at Evorin's shield and saw that it had bent so greatly that his arm was closer to being encased in it than being surrounded by it, "Take out the other giants, the King is mine!" he shouted furiously, stepping onto the Giant-King's fallen foot, and beginning to race across his mighty body.

It was a very long run, though Verdant did not know how far, and the Giant began to shift and raise himself up even as Verdant reached the edge of his belly, and began to climb and clasp the giant's dragonhide clothing, pulling himself up as quickly as he could. Three times he almost fell, but soon, he was at the giant's bullish neck. He grasped the hairs and climbed higher, his feet upon the giant's face. The Giant-King thrashed his head to the left and to the right, trying to cast the little human off his neck, but to no avail. Verdant's grip was sure with each step of the climb and soon he reached the bridge of the giant-king's bestial snout. Its eye narrowed even as it stared at him and then Verdant drew Evorin's blade. One sharp thrust into the giant's snout caused it to cut deep enough to reveal the bone beneath, but Verdant was shocked to see the tip of the blade shatter against the snout. But it was too late now, he needed to get all the way in. He stabbed again, and the bone broke a little farther, and so did the sword, until in the end the gap was open and all that was left was one flimsy, weak dagger piece. And Verdant cast down the dagger piece into the skull, where it ripped its destroyer to shreds. Then down went the great Giant King, and Verdant with him clutching for dear life even as the giant plummeted to the earth.

Raz_Fox

2010-09-18, 09:53 PM

Faolan Dragon-Slayer?

The great, bull-sized eyes of the great wyrm roll in their sockets; the lissome, serpentine tongue flickers in and out between the ragged, jutting fangs. Its wingbeats slow, and its booming voice dies down to a mere whisper of mountain-peaks grinding together.

"Thou hast destroyed me, child of Rognir. I shall bear thee safely to the shore of the Island Forgotten if thou sparest mine life, and forget my trespass against thee."

It turns, slowly making its way to the island, wings beating with the slowness of exhaustion. It alights upon the black sands of the island, bowing its head that Faolan might descend from its high crown.

TheDarkDM

2010-09-19, 02:25 AM

Faolan braced himself as they landed on the shore of the Island Forgotten, careful not to drive the spear any further into the skull of his vanquished foe. As the great neck craned down to allow him to dismount, Faolan gently removed the Spear, jumping from the massive head to land lightly in the hard packed volcanic sand. Looking up at the great wyrm, he slowly bowed, though he kept his wolfish gaze steady on the reptilian eyes the entire time.

"I thank you, great one. I would be honored to have your friendship when my business here is done. Among all the ancient creatures I have encountered, you are the first to serve a purpose beyond your own desires, and for that I respect you more than you can know. For now, however, I must reclaim what was abandoned by my forebear."

Turning from the dragon, Faolan strode off the shore and onto the grassy center of the island. As the small hut by the central tree came into view, Faolan called out.

"Hello there! I am Faolan, god of the earth, and I seek the Squire of Rognir!"

Kaiser Omnik

2010-09-19, 02:10 PM

Six Years Ago
Caer Faol

One day, a strange band of adventurers from the South arrived at the gates of Caer Faol, a grim sight compared to the flamboyant architecture of central Negeb. Among them many devoted to the Fire God, as the bright red cape and ornamental cardinal feathers of their costumes attested. But also a beautiful young woman dressed in skimpy clothing, with green eyes and auburn hair, and two wings on her back, who looked to the fortifications in wonder. Their leader lifted his obsidian hand to greet the guards, gripping a cedar staff in the other hand.

"I am Kevfire Loreweaver, hierophant of the Healer's Guild, and these are my companions. We wish to speak to the leadership of the Grey Watch about matters of great importance, and to propose a new partnership between our people."

TheDarkDM

2010-09-20, 03:45 AM

Caer Faol

Caer Faol had grown exponentially in the years since its founding, and the fortress-city the adventurers of the South approached was far more than the little timber village that had begun on the side of Faolan's mount. As they grew close to the walls, they noticed well-paved roads patrolled by squads of a dozen riders on shaggy destriers, clad in field plate and bearing crimson standards emblazoned with Faolan's holy symbol. The soldiers seemed taken aback by the foreigners, but gave them no trouble. More hospitable were the wagons loaded with goods from the villages that had sworn fealty to Caer Faol in return for its protection. The small folk told grand tales of the godly mountain, but no tale could have prepared the visitors for what they saw when they crested the last rise in the Barrier Peaks. Caer Faol seemed to scrape the very sky, misty clouds swirling around the upper tiers, the Citadel at the peak almost indistinguishable. The iron gates in the great wall were open, leading through a tunnel where two portculli and a second set of doors stood open. As they called out to the guards on the crenelations, the part of adventurers noticed a small knot of grey cloaked figures heading their way.

The members of the Grey Watch bowed when they reached the Southern delegation. Even in their place of greatest strength they did not go unarmed or unarmored, and as their leader spoke her three fellows dissected the party of healers with their strange predatory eyes.

"Welcome to Caer Faol, travelers from the distant South. Our commander is waiting for you in the Citadel. Please, follow us."

The Watchers turned and walked through the gates, sparing only a glance to see that they were followed. They led the party of healers through the five tiers of vibrant fields, into the true city of Car Faol. Stone buildings jutted from dozens of rising shelves in the mountain. Tens of thousands of former refugees and newborn citizens filled the mounting streets, as the small knot of Watchers and their charges made their way up stairways and gear lifts, up ever further. Despite the altitude, geothermal steam pumped through the walls of the buildings kept the entire city livable and the cold bearable. As they climbed higher, the visitors moved out of the housing levels and into the industrial ones, where forges rang without end, the stink of tanners and dyers wafted from the external reaches of their tiers, and within small fortresses the Wolf Guard drilled incessantly. Eventually though, they passed through the clouds, and stood before the mouth of the Citadel. Flanking the iron doors carved with wolves were two statues, one of Faolan the Hunter, the other of Faolan the Beast, representing the dual natures of the lord of the city.

The gates whispered open, as the Watchers guiding the Healers seemed to fade away. Through the doors, they saw a vaulted hall, hundreds of feet long and dozens high, a stone throne sitting at the far side. Standing in the doorway were eleven Watchers, their armor chased in crimson, their stature far grander than those that had acted as guides. The man in the center stepped forward, and regarded the foreign party as a lord would regard an unexpected visitor.

"I am Marek, Lord Commander of the Grey Watch. Welcome, Healers, to our city. You spoke of a partnership at the gate. What do you wish of us?"

Kaiser Omnik

2010-09-20, 08:31 AM

Caer Faol

"Greetings, Lord Marek. I approach you today with a project, one like humanity has never seen before. We, of the Halls of Dawn, suggest an alliance between the people of the North and South, West and East. The world is about to face new threats; the gods have been mostly quiet as of late, but we believe the destruction of Toukoku and the invasions from beyond the great sea were only deadly warnings of what's to come. With the goddess of war dead, even pacifists such as us must take measures. And thus, why we are here; to rally the whole of humanity. Please take a look at this."

One of Kevfire's companions stepped forward and presented Marek with an engineering design of a structure resembling a tortoise with a tower on its back.

"A mobile fortress. We have already enlisted crafters from Hybil'smita and zhangese mages to contribute to the project, but we would need both your technical expertise and some of your manpower for this entreprise to be a success. It is not primarily a machine of war; it is meant to be a symbol of hope, to bring light and warmth to those who suffer, as well as to spread culture and civilization... a jewel belonging to the human race as a whole. I've personally passed the tests of the Tower of Enlightenment - you must have heard of them. And although the Tower itself, as a creation of a goddess, is awe-inspiring, I've learned there of the infinite potential of humankind. That is why I believe this project must be completed; the power is in us, an ancient gift from the gods, and if we don't exploit it the hordes of our enemies - giants, monsters, and who knows what else? - will surely conquer and destroy us all."

hi-mi-tsu

2010-09-21, 07:18 PM

Calantha and Garadiel

"And have you come to apologize for the disrespect of your messenger, brother? For his hatred, and his cruelty?"

The goddess turns away from her brother, the weight of his words in her heart, indelibly imprinted on her soul. She feels them, there, like she has felt them before; but these do not carry pleasure with them, only a deep, sad pain.

"You wish to be family again, but do you...do you really think that just coming here and saying 'oh I'm sorry' makes it better? "You betrayed me, Garadiel, when you had promised..."

Her voice cracks, and she blindly grabs for a cushion, tugging it over to kneel on the multicolored patchwork instead of the harsh stone.

"...'May all the roads be easy, though the way ahead is hard...'May every stranger's greeting be peaceful, and every renewed meeting be joyful.' Do you even remember? You said that to me, to us, when we were...sent away."

She goes quiet again, and her eyes shift from the ceiling to her brother, watching him.

"Do you remember that you loved me once, Garadiel...?"

Raz_Fox

2010-09-21, 09:42 PM

Secret Island

There is a man toiling in the field beyond the house who looks up at Faolan as he strides towards the house. He is simply dressed, in a style that is archaic yet enduring, and his face is shrouded by a straw hat.

He waves Faolan down, motioning for him to come into the field, then continues to plow the earth. It's the planting season, after all.

TheDarkDM

2010-09-21, 09:57 PM

Faolan returned the wave of the toiling man, and moved over to him, though he stared with interest at the house. As he reached the edge of the field, he buried the Spear in the ground and tread carefully between the careful furrows in the soil. As he reached the man, he knelt down and ran a hand over the yet-unworked earth, and the earth turned soft and loamy, the better to take whatever crop this man hoped to plant. Then he gazed beneath the concealing hat.

"Greetings, sir. I was led to you over sea and storm by the promise of memory. Are you the Squire of Rognir?"

Raz_Fox

2010-09-21, 10:16 PM

Secret Island

The man's face is weathered and hale, lined with age and yet not decrepit. His cheeks are clean-shaven, his hair is gray, and his eyes are half-shut from the sun's glare on the earth. His eyes glitter out from under his thin white brows and wrinkled lids, judging Faolan from head to toe.

"I am just a farmer. I am sorry if you have come a long way looking for him, but he never lived here."

TheDarkDM

2010-09-21, 10:43 PM

Faolan's eyes narrowed, though he stayed on his knee close to the ground. Reaching into a pouch at his side, he drew forth the Trueflame Compass and flicked it open. The needle of flame flared to life and pointed towards the old man's house, leaving no doubt that to someone's knowledge, the Sword of Rognir lay within. The wolf's eyes bored into the glinting eyes of the old farmer, and an inkling of understanding began to glimmer there.

"The Squire of Rognir may be gone, but his legacy may still remain. If you no longer know the man of whom I speak, perhaps you know where hid an item of great importance. A weapon that, after generations, must now be seen again - the Sword of Rognir."

White Blade

2010-09-22, 02:09 PM

There is something permanent, unmoving and unspeakably patient, like watching a mountain in its stand, behind Garadiel's perfectly still stance. His eyes show nothing, has he even a heart anymore? Or has he cut his out as Heradi's? But when Garadiel remembers his benediction, and Calantha conjures it to his mind, she watches him flinch. It is the first emotional reaction she has received, save his words. His hands shake beneath him and his eyes flicker to the north and south, as if seeking some way to escape her words.

Then his words came, the reply...

No.

Such a simple, tiny word. Like thunder and lightning, meaning, dense and thick. Garadiel did not expect to be forgiven. He did not expect redemption, or a restoration of his righteousness, or anything like it. He came because something in him drove him to it, but he did not, does not, expect to be forgiven.

I remember

And Garadiel does remember... But Calantha sees more than that scene, in that house of judgment, more than Garadiel's desire to wish her well. She sees more than simply the love and tenderness of when he was just her big brother, before godhood, ancient quests, and terrible events had driven a wedge between them. She sees a young man, a young Garadiel, who she has never seen before. And she sees a woman, more beautiful than almost any Calantha has seen even these hundreds of years later, her face lined with worry as she wished her son well with that very benediction.

I apologize for North

It really is more of an after-thought than anything. But it is a genuine apology, Garadiel would never have sent North if he had thought that he would insult or harm Calantha.

The_Snark

2010-09-24, 06:13 AM

The War of the Five Princes

Winter came, and the armies of Varis marched to war. A hundred silver streams of men and metal flowed north along the roads, their numbers were so great that the dust of their passage did not settle for a week. Storm clouds followed in their wake, for Thunder and Lightning mourned their lost mistress, and like grieving hounds they flocked to her scent, the scent of war.

In the north the snows began to fall, and men looked uneasily towards their homes and wished for a roof over their head. In the south the land was lashed by rain and wind, and roads turned to mud beneath the heavy steel boots of the marching armies. But they did not falter; Varis meant to take the land in a single stroke, before her siblings could unite against her, and the fire of her ambition had been kindled in the hearts of her men as well. By night they lit great fires to warm themselves and spite the rain, and the camps rang with the sounds of laughter and boasting. Dreams of glory to come kept their spirits warm, even as their flesh shivered in the cold, driving rain.

Word of the march spread quickly, and the vast numbers of Varis's army multiplied in the telling until few believed that any could stand against the sea of soldiers that even now approached from the south. They could not be beaten, whispered Hissai's councilors in his palace by the storm-tossed eastern seas, and that prince wondered uneasily if he ought to give up his ambitions, throw in with his sister and hope she was properly grateful after she became queen. In the north Aradoch's liege-men became uncertain, and many refused to march when he called them, and that lord was forced to wait out the winter. But in the heartlands Ba Shaan met with his sister, and though Ba Lutei would not recant her words regarding his fitness to rule, she agreed that he would make a better king than hot-tempered Varis. The two found common cause, and brother and sister were reunited for a time.

Soon battle was joined. The armies of the South seemed as endless as the waves from the sea, and for a while their victory seemed inevitable. Time and time again the Twins' armies were thrown back, forced to retreat lest they be crushed utterly. Yet their resolve held; their bodies might fail them, but their spirits remained unbroken, and the seemingly unstoppable Southern advance had slowed to a crawl. As weeks passed and the defense showed no signs of crumbling, the tide began to turn. The heartlands folk saw now that it was possible to resist, and fear of the invaders gave way to pride in their defenders. Men trickled into the Twins' camps, slowly at first but quickening as each defeat failed to be as utter and decisive as everybody said it would be. Farmers who had lost their lands to the invading army came, and boys desperate to prove their courage. Men who had never before cared which prince ruled were inspired to take up swords on behalf of their lands and their people.

Through the ears of owls and bats, Lilike heard all these things, and wondered at how swiftly the people came to see the southern provinces as an enemy, when only five years ago they had been one people. Brother had fought brother, and rifts had been made that would not soon heal.

The roused fury of the heartlands began to take its toll on Varis's armies, and their once-implacable march north faltered. At the battle of Berennon's Hill the men of the south wavered in their assault, and were about to break when Varis took to the field. It was not the first time, for the prince of the south was no coward; she had broken a dozen defenses with her axe, slaying slaying all who came before her with such speed and fury that soon no-one would stand before her. Her men rallied around her and charged, and the defenders fell back. Then lightning flashed, and atop the hill was a tall armored figure, bearing a sword and shield.

Ba Shaan, too, had taken the field before. He had often been the steady center around which the defenders rallied, fearless, invincible; the armies of the south broke upon him like waves against a cliff. Yet the two princes had never met one another on the field of battle, out of lingering familial affection or perhaps mere coincidence. Until today.

Beneath the storm Ateris's children battled, and steel rang upon steel for hours until at last with a mighty stroke Ba Shaan cleaved his sister's axe in two and struck her a mighty blow across the chest. Varis fell dead upon the ground, and the men of the South scattered and fled.

Lightning flashed, and Ba Shaan roared his tainted victory with the thunder.

Kasanip

2010-09-27, 07:33 AM

Toukoku - A False Musho and a land of Fortune

The returning of the Aptok-un-Shiuk to Toukoku was far from the end of tasks, though for the season of spring, the valley was rich with the purple of wisteria for it's name, and the beautiful growth of flowers and trees. It was a land of beauty- it always had been this kind of place, even when things had given it a different color.

It was a place that had been the center of the Emiyu, the dragon people who had come and artfully given it gentle resolve and purpose. Passive beauty and appreciation that seemed to still give it warmth. And after they had passed beyond in fire and death, there had been the Tengu who became lords of the mountains, and with their pride and power, they strengthened the land and coaxed it to flourish. And then had come Raia, the Goddess of War, who had ordered and arranged it, renewed it and preserved it's legacy.

And now the Aptok-un-Shiuk had come again, and Nari brought with her the passionate hopes of future and burning dreams that humans had. And Toukoku was again a place of life and direction. It was difficult, that the people who had been refugees now must build a life again, but there was something now that had bonded together.

A fire that united them- not the shared order of Raia, but the shared dream that Nari inspired them with. So they were busy making houses and repairs on stonework that had been unused for many years. It was difficult, but together everyone was like a family. And so one year became two, and then three. The tengu of the mountains also flourished in this time, for they were united again- and often now the tengu might be seen in Toukoku as messengers or merchants. And even a few had gone north to the Steppes of Shiuk, and told of the disorder there, but by spreading news also told of new changes in Toukoku.

But for Nari, the passion and vision she had in Toukoku was not finished. She had held the Spirit Lamp for too long, and so her own dreams could not be contained. Vaguely she was beginning to understand this, and accept it. And she nurtured her dreams and encouraged them, and through that she also encouraged the others of Toukoku. She had only grown more beautiful in the last few years of hardship, growing from a child to a young woman who was confident in herself and who reveled with the beauty of life.

So when her dreams lead her to a temple ruin, she did not think twice to not enter, and with the Spirit Lamp to light the path, she went deep within. And there she came to a great gate that was sealed, and before the sealed gate upon the ground, was a dusty, simple comb. There she sat and thought for a long time.

When she reached for the comb her vision blurred and she could see a hand reaching back- like a mirror, but it was not. She reached again and pushed further until her vision failed, but she could see farther up the arm. Determined, she cleared her eyes and tried again. And again.

Each time she pushed her arm's reach. To touch the comb that seemed to be so easy to take, but which was so much farther than it was to seem. And each time she could see more of the arm that came towards her, and now the shoulder above the sleeve. And then she lost her vision again.

Nari sat up breathing hard. She had awoken from sleep again. How many days had she sat here? The lamp was behind her and still lit. The dark and dusty hall was silent except with her own sound.
She felt different this time. Or actually, she always felt different. Like stretching herself. Her arm ached from strain, and her eyes were tired. But she gathered her strength to try again.
Why?

Why was she reaching for a dusty comb? Surely a better one could be found another place.
But wasn't a comb such as this a beautiful thing in itself?
It was discarded, and lost. Maybe not so different in a way she had been.
It wasn't a desire of greed to possess it. Nari had never thought of something like that, and of course if she had she thought, then she would have given up.

The comb had meaning and purpose itself. And she could see that now. Everything did. Everything had a meaning and a purpose, and this thinking that she had started to understand when she had traveled with Celestan, now was only more clear each day.
That purpose, it's space to resound and flourish, it's nobility and pride of existence- in this it's beauty, for a comb, or for a person, or for a tengu, or even just a stone. Everything had something of this, and Nari desired to aid it to this place.

Maybe a perfectionist thought, but a thought that had become a desire, and then a dream. A dream that had become a vision.

A vision she could see in a reflection as she reached for the comb. "To realize" and "to understand" are different meanings and also similar. In the same way "to understand" and "to control" are not so different.

The small effects that Nari had grasped under Celestan's guidance was this sort of a skill. The grasping of what is "Power" to come from "understanding" and from "understanding" to come "aiding." A power to Augment instead of Change.

She reached again and this time she could see it. A dream and vision she could augment - because a dream had purpose and nobility to it. A vision that could become more clear or visible- this kind of a thing she could do, and had done until she was exhausted.

And now she reached for the comb and her hand met the one reaching towards her, and as she looked up the shoulder, she could see a girl staring back at her. A brief vision- who was she? A girl who wore her black hair long and yet had a look of a princess to her. But Nari blinked, and in the place she could see another - a proud young man surely of Shiuk, and a girl of haunting sadness and mystery.
Their dream was here too. Behind a door that concealed a False world.

Nari opened her eyes again, breathing hard in exhaustion. She held the comb in her hand, and it was warm. Everything was warm. She wanted to smile and to laugh, and so she did.

And then she got to her feet- unsteady and weak after days of sitting. And stepping forward she pushed on the door with all of her strength.

Why?

She didn't have a desire to possess anything. She didn't even have a curiosity of what was beyond the door.

She just wanted to bring a desire to reality. A desire of a people she didn't know, of a man who looked too familiar, and of a girl who shared her face.

Raz_Fox

2010-09-28, 07:36 AM

-Secret Island (Finally)-

The old man looks carefully at Faolan, not suspicious as much as weary. "Some old relics are best left in the past, boy. If you want a sword so badly, go forge one yourself. It will serve you better." This said, he turns again to the soil, obviously dismissing Faolan's quest.

TheDarkDM

2010-09-29, 12:34 AM

The Secret Island

Faolan looked down with a sigh at the old man's response. He too seemed exceptionally weary, though after a moment of listlessness he stood. Rolling his shoulders with a rumbling crack, his shadow fell over his less than helpful host.

"I appreciate your desire to see me forge my own path, ancient one, and I am loath to disrupt the peace of your island after the hospitality you have shown me. But I have traveled through monstrous guardians and divine storms in search of Rognir's Sword, and I will have it. I would prefer not to take it from your home, but I believe it is necessary to prevent the destruction of this world, and that precedes the laws of hospitality. "

Caer Faol

Marek took the schematics for the mobile fortress and passed them to his companions. The other Commanders turned and walked deeper into the fortress, disappearing into the gloom, almost as though they passed through the very floor. With a ruffle of wind, a group of Grey Wardens had surrounded the visitors again, though they kept a respectful distance. With a slight bow, Marek addressed Kevfire.

"We must look over your schematics before we decide to dedicate the resources of Caer Faol to this project. If it pleases you, we shall provide you quarters in the Citadel, and host you until we have made our decision."

Kaiser Omnik

2010-09-30, 12:40 PM

Caer Faol
6 years ago

Kevfire thanked the great commander Marek for his consideration and agreed to wait for the Grey Watch's decision. The girl, Sun, sought a window, already feeling dizzy from this short time inside the grim fortress. Nothing seemed to comfort her quite like fresh air and the blue sky...

Tower of Enlightenment, at the heart of the Emirates of Storms
Present Day

Sohail of the House of Shafar stood alongside the sheikh and his personal guard on one of the lowest balconies of the Tower. The red-clad man differs from the other Hierophants of the Bright Flame as he is not completely human, but rather a hero of the Stormseeker tribe, a most unusual choice to become a high-ranking healer. Although he is aged and has devoted himself to the cause of Celestan for the most part of the last decade, his strong build, lightning charged eyes, tribal tattoos and trophies of war still mark him as a fierce warrior and powerful son of the Tempest. That day, he returned to address his people. A tremendously big roc surveyed the sky above: his own mount, Bladewing. Sohail lifted his obsidian hand and spoke to the thousands of tribesmen assembled on the plateau.

"Great people of the dunes, it is a honor to be back here among you! I have learned much during my travels and my stay at the Halls of Dawn, experiencing firsthand the diversity and strength of the whole of mankind! We of the Stormborn have always known about our privileged place in the cosmos, as direct spawns of the Sky and the Desert. Many generations ago, the Lady Sovvenia recognized us and guided us towards an even brighter future. She summoned the twelve jinns to build this exquisite and grand tower in the name of the glorious Seekers of the Storms. Yet she also opened her eyes to the world at large. No longer are we jealously guarding our heritage from the other tribes. Even though Sovvenia has left us, her son, the Pure Bright Flame, has continued her work. Thanks to the exalted hero Celestan, communities of humans from the North and South, East and West have been brought together; he is not our god, but rather our teacher and friend. It is our sacred duty to share our gifts with our brothers and sisters; not because Sovvenia or Celestan require it. Because such is the spirit of Humanity. Already the Zephyrs and Oracles have done much good, founding monasteries and schools celebrating our culture all over the world. But it is only the beginning.

Times were hard. We have just gone through a chaotic age. First, the disciples of Araph came, calling the children of Rognir All-Father demons and asking us to bow before an idol. Those showed their true colors when they attacked Toukoku, and since then none believes in their lies. Then came the Blackwings who threatened the social order. We exterminated them to the last vermin. After that there was the Scourge, claiming to have the key to salvation. But as well all know the Red Wind has not blown in years, and its worshipers are left scattered and beaten. Finally the Dreamers, who defied the very foundations of our civilization and culture. We have turned them away from heresy and madness, and some have even embraced our cause. All those conflicts, those challenges, we overcame as a people, and thus we became stronger. And so have the other tribes. Like us they have purged their demons. In this day and age, I tell you, mankind is ready to come together as One.

Now let me unveil the symbol of this universal friendship and bond between humans everywhere."

Sohail turned around and asked his men to come forward. They carried an impressive, colorful taspestry depicting legends, myths and history of the Stormseekers. So fantastic was this work of art that it touched deeply those who gazed at it, evoking the pride of warriors, their courage, as well as a primal link to Nature, noble yet unforgiving. This represented in essence the character of the desert folk.

"This, my friends, is the Adamah Tapestry!"

The people rejoiced across the plaza. Yet it wasn't nearly all of the Tapestry. In palaces, workshops, and villages all over the known world, artists of all origins inspired by the burning spirit of Humanity were working on their own section of the fabric. At last, something to hopefully bring them all together...

2 major acts to create the Adamah Tapestry (magic/artifact)

---

At the same time, a strange group of creatures observed the scene from a nearby cliff.

"All this energy! This youth! ... Damn them all! I feel so old and useless", said the silver-cloaked crow.
"A wind from the West is blowing", replied the elder jinn. "We belong to another Age. Already many things of our history are regarded only as fairy tales by today's kids. The value of tradition is lost on them."
"But it IS beautiful", added a jinn of the south wind. "I mean to see how the mortals evolve and change. Something so alien to us, change..."
"Indeed, we rather live in the past... Yet we cannot ignore what is to come! The disturbance in Fate is obvious. A star has fallen! And there is that drumbeat, neverending drumbeat. This may be the foretold change... that will finish us, old bones."
"They will have to face terrible tests, won't they? ... I wonder if mortalkind is strong enough."
"Strength comes not only from friendship and hope, but also from opposition. Have they become lazy since the last war? Is that what you fear, elder?"
"Only time will tell..."

And the ancestors looked again at the crowd, and they saw the potential for good...as well as the seeds of their own destruction.

White Blade

2010-10-01, 06:24 PM

In Hith
Catching Fire and Serpent's Skin
In the land of Hith, there is a single great festival every year at the winter solstice in commemoration of the slaying of A'gap and Rognir's great victory. The central piece of the festival is a great bonfire, which is piled to the heights of the sky on a particular hill that is said to have been the place where Rognir bound three great fire spirits, burning brighter than the sun on her highest course.

Verdant stood at the base of the great bonfire and stared into it and he saw the shifting figures amongst the fire. His hands were empty and he brought no blade tonight. His shield, mangled as it had been, was forgotten somewhere now. This was the first test of his ability to forge and twist his sword and shield.

He took in his hand a hammer and a strong sheet of metal, and muttered over them words of power, and he passed it over the heat of the fire. The three spirits bound beneath the hill screeched and cursed and made war against the hammer, but though it burned even his divine hand, Verdant held strong. He forced the forging, and crafted the steel, making a blade that would have more than pleased the greatest mortal forger, the three burning spirits caught in its pommel.

The princess saw the whole of the act and spoke to Verdant, saying "Squire!" she said, actually impressed sounding rather than sarcastic, "I have never seen such a beautiful blade."

Verdant smiled at the fair maiden and said, "It is not as beautiful as you," he replied sweetly, and crushed the newly minted sword within his hand and hurled it back into the fire.

The princess smiled, "Nor may it ever be!" she laughed, "I could have made better," she commented.
"A master does not begin in one night, daughter of the king," Verdant replied with a jeer in his word, "Though one wonders where one might learn such skill,"
"Why, dear squire, where did you learn such skill?" the princess replied, her sarcasm dripping from the question.
"I learned it from my father, Eridi, who taught me all he knew of his crafts," Verdant lied smoothly.
"And I learned it from my father, Aldric, who taught me the might that wields emotions," the princess replied.
"Perhaps someday you will be honest with me," Verdant replied
"When you speak with a forked tongue, it is best not to accuse," the princess replied.

Many days later, Verdant went down to the sea and set his hook with a bait and went out and fished for what seemed like days. At long last, the silver serpent he had sought rose from the depths on the edge of his hook and he took a knife and skinned its hide from one end to the other before he cast the serpent back into the sea.

There over the waters he bound a shield from its hide and made a beautiful shield. It was silver and it glinted in the evening light, as he came onto the shore. There stood the princess again, her smile vague and approving, "It is a fine shield!" she cried.
"Not so fine as you are a woman," Verdant cried in response, taking the shield and hurling it into the sea.
"I'd have made a better shield," she taunted him again.
"Oh, and a fine craftsman it would take, where might you have learned such fine skill, daughter of Aldric?"
"I learned it when my father Garadiel taught me how to hold fast the land of the dead, and you, son of Eridi, where did you learn it?"
Verdant twitched, it was not noticeable, even to the cunning woman's eyes before he replied, "I learned it when my mother Raia taught me of the importance of defending myself."

There was much such back and forth between the man who called himself the squire of Rognir and the woman who called herself the daughter of the king. Many other things were exchanged, and soon enough, they were doing things I think I'll not tell you about. It isn't polite.

The Shield of A'gap
Verdant looks grim and continues, "It's a scale from the wall that encircles the world. I needed it, and I needed you, for the same reason." Verdant draws his sword slowly, gingerly and lays it and his shield on the ground before Eridi. The blade is pitch black, like it was cut from the deepest shadow, the shield glows like it was made from caught sunlight.

"This is my blade, this is my shield. I have made half a dozen like them, each greater than the last. They are fine weapons, better than any mortal hand could make... But they will not do, in the time that is coming, when Álrodores comes on us and heaven burns above and the sun and moon are devoured.

There is a blade, forged before this world had ever seen sun or moon, that is sharp enough to fell the whole of the world. I need its match and equal, for I have sworn to the Tree that birthed the world that I would be her guardian. So in my shame I stole the shield that guards the world, that there might be a shield strong enough. Uncle, please, help me forge the shield that will save the Tree."

ArlEammon

2010-10-03, 01:27 PM

The Past : Shen Zhi Shu
Shen Zhi Shu had traveled to the island where Rognir fell. There he paid his respects. "So, father." He whispered. "What shall I do now?" Shen Zhi Shu wandered in his mind. What was he to do. The world needed him, but where should he go first? The Library in Xiang Jian was huge. . . The people of Xiang Jian could withstand a great siege. Of course that was no gaurantee that they would be completely safe while he was gone, but, Shen Zhi Shu had responsibilities elsewhere as well. So he continued to contemplate, near the burial site, on what he would do. What would he do?

Jair Barik

2010-10-03, 01:28 PM

Nara wandered within his garden in the realm of sun and pondered events of late. He had been searching what he could derive of Orgo's recent actions for some hint as to what had occured but he was only drawing blanks on the matter. There was however one name that cropped up that he felt could do with exploring. Celestan. He had been meeting with Orgo for some reason and Nara was determined to find how far he had gone in this affair.

So, taking a small petals from a flower he held them together as wings, crafting a small bird.

"Go, find Celestan and bid him follow you to the realm of the sun up upon the northern continent. It is high time we met one another."

With that he threw it to the wind and it sped off in search of its quarry.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-10-03, 01:41 PM

Celestan made his trip to the far North, crossing the gate between the mortal realm and the realm of the sun, where another of his uncle awaited him. The god of fire and hope was excited to travel again; he had felt useless in the last few years, so much he felt humans didn't need him in this day and age. Which isn't bad in itself; Celestan always knew there would come a time when he would need to fade in the background. However he was getting bored, and that rarely bode well.

"Hear now, creatures of the resplendent garden! Celestan has come today! He brings joy and excessive energy! How can I help my uncle Nara, heh?!"

Fireflies whirled around the ever young god as he approached Nara.

Jair Barik

2010-10-03, 04:33 PM

"So you are the one they call Celestan, heir to Sovvenia..."

Nara sighed and pulled a rose from one bush only to watch it wither and die in his hand.

"We did not leave on good terms you know. I never had the chance to say things I perhaps should have said before being interrupted, I never had another chance to speak to her."

Turning to face Celestan Nara smiled slightly.

"But you stand before me, hope, and so I think I can entrust to you something. Sovvenia foresaw many things, she believed we needed to protect the tree, that it would be attacked and indeed it has. But much as I pray that the danger is now past I am not one for being unduly positive. All things must wither and die in time, such is nature, but the wise gardener knows that long before the fruit bearing tree has withered he must begin readying a new tree to take its place, so that when it does fall the harvest is not broken whilst he goes about replacing that which is already dead."

Raz_Fox

2010-10-03, 10:29 PM

-Faolan and the Old Man-

He makes no move to stop Faolan. He even continues to work the soil, seemingly ignoring the god. Then, he quietly speaks. "I made a promise, and got one back. Looks like one of them was broken, but I won't break the other.

The sword's lost, to history, to knowledge. Let it lie, boy. Best to forget it. The dark keeps it, and the earth, and it's best guarded there. Like... I used to know it. The verse." He mumbles under his breath for a moment. "Hell, I can't even remember it now. Something about gold and dragons and giants and old kings, but all the songs were like that back in the day. About treasure that looked pretty, but ended up killing everyone who took it.

Don't take the treasure. It kills you. Slowly, from the inside out. Yes, that's what it was about. Makes you hollow, like a log filled with writhing worms. That's what some treasure does to you. Seems to me that some things are best left to the dark, and the night."

Kaiser Omnik

2010-10-03, 11:55 PM

Celestan and Nara

Celestan found himself a log to sit on while listening to Nara like some absentminded student.

"I know the details yes. It's unfortunate, for Sovvenia I mean... I'm not much one to plan, or consider a lot of factors before taking action. I believe you're much better at it than me. I will gladly help set up whatever you have in mind. Does it have to do with Verdant and his guard? I know next to nothing about this boy, other than he seems to have sworn to protect the Tree. Which, I guess, can only be good for us. Right?"

Jair Barik

2010-10-04, 08:22 AM

"I myself know little of Verdant but the tree will not likely be harmed by him swearing to protect it. Think though Celestan. We are Gods, we can create mountains, rivers, whole continents if need be. What is there to prevent us creating a new world should this one seem near death. Such is the purpose of this realm. A place where I can create new plants and animals in peace, to find the right creatures with which to populate a new world should this one fall to darkness."

Kaiser Omnik

2010-10-04, 09:17 AM

Celestan

Celestan looked in bewilderment, as he was playing Nara's words again and again in his mind. Then his expression darkened.

"A new world, Nara? A new world?!?"

The young god jumped at his uncle's throat; only a few second than he immediately let go. Furious, he turned and unleashed a quick fireball that obliterated the log on which he was previously sitting. The air of the surrounding garden rippled so much the heat was fierce.

Do you understand what you are asking of me?! You old fool! There I was, thinking your were talking about you; about us, the gods! To prepare our eventual downfall, and the renewed cycles of the world. THIS WORLD... is all we've got! It's all there is to protect! You would like me to think of the eventuality of leaving the humans to die?! You would want me to save a few and put them away, or worst, JUST MAKE NEW ONES TO POPULATE YOUR FAIRY REALM??? What is the meaning of a new world, a new order if we weren't able to save the last?

Noticing the disastrous effects his anger could have on the realm of the sun, Celestan tried to calm himself.

"Whatever Rognir taught you, we are not masters of this universe. We are not here to do whatever experiments you would have us do. Oh, I am full aware that the world will end someday. I'm not foolish enough to believe that anything is truly eternal...except the human spirit, and the spirit of the universe. Yes, I DO believe that when all is over, if there is something to salvage, if a new world is needed, it will be a collective work of the spirits of Mankind, in unity with the Tree.

In the meantime, I have no right to think about a backup plan involving a new world made by our hands. What I can do, is make sure that everything runs smoothly in the mortal world if we gods ever bite dust. What I can do, is make the most of Mankind's potential. I ain't building no artificial paradise! As good as your intentions may be uncle...I will say only this: focus on our world, the only true world gifted to us by the Tree. You have already seeded much beauty in it...I have seen the marvels, the wonders; arid deserts now flowing with water, icy wastes that are now entirely covered in healthy, proud trees... Don't give up on the world."

White Blade

2010-10-04, 12:39 PM

In Hith
The Ravens
There were ravens. That's what his father had taught him, that the black scavenger birds were the signal of the Death-Thief who Garadiel suspected to be the head of the Blackwings. He'd brought back Heradi, and knew dark secrets of magic. That's what his father said. His father knew pitifully little, for once in Garadiel's extremely long life, but Verdant was growing to know more.

He understood how to be like this secret bearing assassin king. He'd hidden himself behind lies upon lies, to his servants, to his lover, and he was in no mood to reveal himself. So he was watchful and he'd found the way to this assassin's hold. It was an aristocratic brothel.

Poison. That's what Verdant knew to be the title of this leader, when he was spoken of by his emissaries. And he could see it reflected in the way each of the patrons left a little weaker, a little more trapped, than they were before, even if they did not realize it.

He walked in playing the part of the patron, he put money on the table and they took him up the stairs, to a private room to await... his purchase. He leaned against the stone wall, his hand on the dagger he had concealed. And then came the thugs. They jeered him, asking if he thought that Poison wouldn't recognize him. He killed them all. That had been all he needed. He dashed out of the room, he looked around. A quarter of an hour had passed. He needed to find the leader.

He followed his eyes and his wits, guessing what he would do in Poison's shoes. He found him. Of course he found him. A mortal can't outwit or outrun a god. A dagger found its way to Poison's throat and Verdant held him still, "Tell me where your leader is!" he barked in the man's ear.

"Never," Poison spat back.

"Fine." Verdant replied, slitting Poison's throat.

Fallen Stone and Lion's Hide
There is a certain kind of lion, nearly immune to any form of harm, its pelt made from a golden fur that is impervious to any form of damage, save the armaments of the gods. They rarely appear, being cursed creatures that Rognir had hunted to the point that even their lionish nature was not brave to stand in open ways.

But the death of Rognir had invigorated some of them, and one had made its way to Hith. It had begun to hunt humans, as is the way of that sort of lion, and Verdant had heard of it. He took nothing but his own skin and clothes with him. Neither sword nor shield would do him any good. He walked to lion's cave and caught the lion unawares.

The match there was not quite so epic as when Ateris had wrestled and bested a giant king, but it was not altogether different. It was harsh and then, in the last moment, Verdant grappled it by the neck, suffocating it. It stumbled onto the ground and made one last effort, hurling itself against a wall, and then it crumbled. Verdant took the lion's claw and cut its skin with it, as the legends said Rognir always did, and formed a shield from its skin.

Dwarves are a strange race, if you ever see them. They hide deep within the mountains, as far from the sun as they can reach, and work metal day and night, eating moss and drinking ale. They were craftsman first and foremost, and it is said that when the world was young they were Rognir's workers as they cut the tunnels and caves of the earth. I cannot tell you if this is true, but when Verdant found them, they had long forgotten their covenant with that ancient god, let alone his children.

There were no blows, for Verdant brought much gold, but it took many days and many visits for Verdant to convince them to give him what he sought. He learned much of forging beneath the earth and he found a price worth keeping, the remains of a meteor. He cut a blade from it and he carried it with him to the surface.

Thus were made the Star Sword and the Lion Shield, the second sword and shield of Verdant.

Jair Barik

2010-10-04, 04:46 PM

"I have not given up child... No, i apologise for that. You are a man, younger than me yes but a man nonetheless and to treat you any differently would be foolishness. I suppose my wording was poor. I intend to create a new world tree in the event of this ones death. What that means for all existing life... who knows. But there is much evil in this land. The creatures that lurk beyond our sights within the darkness, fallen deities, all manner of evil. Can mankind ever live in peace until such things have passed their t-t-t-time."

Nara suddenly fell into violent bouts of coughing before Celestan, almost collapsing but supporting himself upon his cane.

"You are right...I am an old man. Whatever happens know this. I do not intend to live to see a new world. I will do all I can to preserve this one and to rebuild creation should the world tree fall but I will not live on into a new world. For the time being I do not even know how much longer I can sustain myself. Perhaps I should just give in now and let those with more youth and vigour take over...."

As he continued talking it seemed almost as though Nara no longer even spoke to Celestan, as though he conversed with himself ignorant of the second party.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-10-04, 05:18 PM

Celestan and Nara

Celestan's fury disappeared as fast as it had come. He looked to Nara with pity and love in his eyes. He lightly touched his uncle's shoulder, invigorating him.

"I'm sorry. I'm not good at this. Never been. Raia never did change my rashness. It's my nature, I guess. I do respect you as an elder, and I do love you as I do with all my family, even if I don't show it much. I feel like you can still bring lots to this world, and I sincerely hope you don't cross to Garadiel's realm before seeing the glorious future that you and I and many others are building."

Celestan turned away from Nara and gazed at the horizon.

"You'll be the first to know... that I'm quitting being a deity; for a time anyway. What I mean is that my calling is the same as any mortal man. I must live their life, see for myself. I've already done so once, but if I want to show my love for them, it must be that way; not as a supernatural protector anymore. Things have been set in motion, and they will go on without my interference. In fact, I don't simply want to live as a Man...but as Every Man.

I'm sorry that I cannot be of more help. Once the enemies of this world attack, I will be there, among deities, fighting the good fight; I was born for this, after all. I will put my divine powers to the test; I won't hold back anymore. But until then the mortals will progress on their own. And so will the world. Goodbye Nara!"

Jair Barik

2010-10-04, 05:33 PM

"Quitting being a God? One cannot simply quit being a god... It is a matter of the blood- Who have you been talking to Celestan? Who has filled your head with these notions! I know of only one other being with thoughts such as these..."

Nara's voice is suddenly filled with a mix of horror and anger, yet the anger seems not to be directed at Celestan.

TheDarkDM

2010-10-04, 06:04 PM

Faolan paused at the warning muttered by the mortal who had seen centuries pass before his birth. Could it be that his quest for the sword was truly folly? Could his intentions, pure as they were, be corrupted by the power the Sword was purported to hold? And, writ large above all other questions, were these risks sufficient to keep him from grasping for whatever advantage he could over the apocalyptic masters of the Drums? Though he stood in conflict, in his heart Faolan had known the answers to these questions before he set out on his quest, and come what may he was committed to his course. There was a certain honor in that, was there not? He turned from the old man, gazing towards his humble home, and spoke, though whether to the old man or someone else it was hard to say.

"I am sorry it has come to this. Vows and promises are not made to be broken, and it seems that in trying to save my world I have disrupted yours. But the threats facing us are too grave for me to ignore a weapon, any weapon, that could turn the tide. The Sword has dwelt in darkness long enough - it is time it tasted the light once again."

With a last apologetic glance towards the man who had squired for a god, Faolan strode into his home, taking a care to go as gingerly as possible, for it was a mortal dwelling and not suited to a being of his size. As soon as he crossed the threshold, he felt the hum of power emanating through the house, echoing and merging until it seemed the entire house was a divine artifact. But as with every storm, this one had a heart, and the eddies and intersections of power drew Faolan inexorably to the mantle. There, hanging in a simple leather scabbard, was the Sword, a weapon his enemies would have sacrificed their souls to possess. Reaching out, he placed his hand around the well worn black leather of the hilt, and removed the blade from the props holding it. For a moment, the Sword seemed to shift and writhe in his vision, seemingly growing larger in his hand, until it fit his palm like his old blade, but infinitely lighter and better balanced than even Eridi's craft. Fastening the scabbard across his back, Faolan muttered an indistinguishable prayer of thanksgiving and moved to leave the cottage. It was then, now that the trance of the Sword had lifted, that he noticed the figure lying in the old man's bed, the familiar cruel face softened somewhat in sleep. But there was no mistaking the nimble hands or scarred chest of Heradi, and with the sight Faolan's blood ran cold with fury. Seizing the injured god by the throat, he hurtled him through the cottage door, and before Heradi could fully awaken from the daze of pain and sleep he was bound hand and foot in bands of stone. Placing a booted foot on the speed god's chest with a sickening crunch of cracking ribs, Faolan bellowed,

"What is your game here Heradi! Did you think to slay the old man once you recovered your strength? Did you think to steal the Sword of Rognir and use it for your own dark purpose? Well, the Sword is safe now, and you will pay for what you have done."

Kaiser Omnik

2010-10-04, 06:20 PM

Soundtrack: "Poison" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0tVll9tjAh4)

Celestan and Nara

The Fire God sighed.

"Still treating me like a boy. And you, Nara... Who has filled your head with ideas of blood, divinity and absolutes? Rognir? Look where that got him! ... You will always be my family. And Rognir is still my grandfather. But his gift of godhood? To me, it is a prison. I reserve the right to put it aside when it no longer serves me...or the world. Neither you nor the master Wolf are my enemy. This is MY CHOICE!

Things are changing. PEOPLE CHANGE, Nara. I have to find a meaning to what I feel. And I won't find it in godhood. This is my path. I hope you and Orgo both live to find yours."

Celestan removed his red hedband and threw it to the wind. He walked away from the realm of the resplendent sun. And he smiled, ready for a new kind of adventure.

White Blade

2010-10-04, 11:16 PM

Verdant returned to the castle, his new shield and sword in hand, to be met by the princess. She smiled at him, and at his sword and shield. "They are fine weapons indeed you carry,"

Verdant smiled in return, before he replied, "Ah, but are they better than those you would make?"

"Alas, they are not."

"If you boast like that, Princess, you'll need something to back it up."

The princess smiled, "Fine, come with me," she replied, beckoning onward, showing him through the castle, stopping only to light a torch, to a dark corridor which had been hidden by a tapestry. She had led him for a little while, when they came to a dark room. She lit an idle torch and then another, till at last the room was aglow.

Every witch, wizard, sorcerer, or enchantress has a different style to their work and their workroom. Some prefer open roofs, to show the stars, while others hide deep in darkness. Some are cluttered with charts and books, with little free space, while others leave broad areas for rituals and empty places for regents. Some are pure business, while others have personal mementos scattered throughout.

The room which the Princess had made was filled with tools of the gentler crafts. A spinner's wheel, a painter's canvas and brush, an open station for drawing charts and diagrams, the potter's wheel, a cauldron for cooking and brewing. It had a wide assortment of shelves, with many useful objects for magic tightly packed together, a dream-catcher's net, a beautifully crafted ceremonial dagger, the crushed remains of many kinds of plants, stones used for focuses, a fine hand mirror, a hook and rope to hang things with, and many other things.

There was a long, hard wooden table that had been stained by many regents over the years, there was only one chair, cut from a common wood. At the far end of the room was a door that looked like it headed to a storage area. The Princess took out a key, different from the one she had used to enter this room, and unlocked the door, slipped in gingerly and came out barely cracking the door, not allowing Verdant to see into the room.

She emerged from the room bearing by the top in one hand a robe that seemed to be nearly every color at once. It shifted and danced in his eyes, and struck him as beautiful and terrible, as bright and strange and new, then his heart was repulsed and attracted, like hearing the calling of a long-forgotten enemy's name. In the other hand she carried but an orb of strange, red clay, which seemed the less remarkable.

She noticed the grim look in his eyes and commented, "The robe was supposed to be more beautiful than terrible, but there was something wrong with the person whose dreams I took, I think. I was still an amateur when I made it."
Verdant looked at it and was awed as well, "I have still never seen a more fine robe in all my life," Verdant commented at length, "Where did you learn to catch dreams like that?"
"From my father, Kyfla-Madur, when he taught me the secrets of the night" she replied and Verdant made mental note that she actually knew about the gods, not just the mortal legends, "And where did you learn your skills, that made you kill such a lion and pull down such a star for your sword?"
"From my father Ateris, when he learned me in strength and combat," Verdant replied easily.
"That makes us cousins!" the princess replied with a laugh.
"So do all the previous options," Verdant replied easily.
"Too true!" the princess replied, "Well, except the first two,"
"The robe is cursed. May I destroy it for you?" Verdant offered, and the princess nodded at last. He drew his blade and with one, swift cut, he sundered the gown, releasing it so that it flew off. But then his blade crumbled, like it had been aged fifteen million years in a moment. He swore beneath his breath and the princess' eyes widened in genuine shock, "Thank you... I had never thought..."

A calm hand reached her shoulder, "You're welcome. I mean that. Now, why the clay?"

"It comes to life," she said simply, "And I don't just mean that it animates and moves about, the clay actually turns to flesh. Watch." She took her fingers and gently formed a figure like small bird, with perfectly formed feathers and nose and eyes and beaks, though it did not take her long. Then she blew on it, and spoke words of transformation over it, and a tiny golden bird appeared from the clay and began to fly around the room joyfully. "That," she said happily, "is why I am the greater craftsman than you." Verdant simply smiled and pulled her close. It really was an amazing thing.

But he wasn't about to concede that out loud.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-10-05, 12:21 AM

Soundtrack: "The Dark Side" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kMWdaQ0OvVU&feature=related)

"Celestan is gone, you are certain of that?"

Yes.

"He has left us his legacy? For us to decide of our own destiny?"

Yes.

"Then there is nothing left to keep us away from our goals, mistress."

The two men were asked to stand up. The chapel of the Hall of Dawn was lit by nothing but the dim rays of the setting sun. The hierophants looked in amazement at the angelic figure of the woman before them. The mistress was as beautiful in this light as any other! The woman smiled and leaned over the great stone tablet in the middle of the room. She brushed her fingers on the great painting sprawling most of it's surface. It depicted a winged girl standing atop the central spire of a religious megalopolis full of stone towers and pyramids reaching to the heavens; a city teeming with people living as gods, with the girl as the sole object of worship above them. Then she spoke with a soft voice, which evoked intimate knowledge of the human soul and a kind of otherworldliness at the same time.

The civilization of heaven on earth, declared Sun, we will make it.
She extended her arms wide.
All humans will fly one day. If not physically, in their minds. All will go beyond their limits, shatter the barriers of implausibility. They will reach for the stars and the edge of the sky. They will look deep into their own soul. And I will be their muse; every one of them. Where there is now only Darkness, I will bring Enlightenment. Together, we shall become greater than ourselves, we shall become Eternal.

This is my dream.

And dreams...will never die.

Kasanip

2010-10-05, 04:36 AM

The False Musho Reunited - the Emiyu Return

Ya-un-Kurumi had lost knowing of time- in the timeless utopia that was the Emiyu's Mumonkan 'False Musho,' it was hard to tell. He was worried secretly of Raia, and wondered why his Goddess had not yet saved these people, but he was patient and had his faith, though it was hard to reassure Myoan that everything was going to be ok.

And so at last, when the white gate shimmered and opened, he was surprised and awed to see Nari, exhausted and just as confused and astonished by what she saw.

The Emiyu knew immediately the gate had been reopened. They didn't know how, but they all did. The elders were gathered already and here they also were surprised by Nari, who was in awe in looking upon the dragons in their form.

"The False Musho, the Gateless Gate is opened." The leader said at last in the silence. Ya-un-Kurumi stepped forward, drawn to Nari more than the gate, and behind him came Myoan and then the Emiyu. A song went up, to summon them all, and so the Emiyu came to the gate, while Myoan brought water from the fountains for Nari to drink.

And Nari, who had never expected this, was somehow not surprised either- for the tale of Ya-un-Kurumi had always ended in confusion with her tribe's stories, and yet here he was beyond the dream and the gateless gate.

And now that Ya-un-Kurumi could see that she was exhausted and tired, endeavored to explain to her the circumstances here.

"This place is the Gateless Gate- the false Musho. It is a picture of Toukoku as it was long before even our lady Raia came to it. These are the Emiyu- the people who lived here before ours." So Ya-un-Kurumi explained to Nari, because her features were of the Shiuk, and so his assumptions of time were still missing of the events of years.

"I am Ya-un-Kurumi, leader of the Shiuk and a champion of Raia, goddess of War and mistress of the valley."

But to Nari, this kind of a description brought her into more confusion, and then she also realized that time had passed in a strange way - and that the False Musho here did not fit the same as the world she had always known. So she tried to explain to him of all the things that had happened.

"I am Nari, of the Aptok-un-Shiuk. I am the current leader of the refugees who now call Toukoku our home once again. The land of Toukoku was attacked, and the Lady Raia has disappeared from this world. The people were scattered, though now we have began to come together. Of the Emiyu and this Gateless Gate, I know nothing, only what had come to me in dream and determination as I sat with the Spirit Lamp of Celestan given to me, and this comb which had called my hand and shared it's vision."

She showed the comb to Ya-un-Kurumi, who in his shock was silent. The Emiyu, gathering themselves and making arrangement had left them silent for the minute. Ya-un-Kurumi knew the comb of Raia, and as he held it, he could see a different vision of the young woman who was before him. She wasn't that different now, he thought, than the Lady Raia whom he had served. When she had come to the Steppes and he had made a tie with her, she had worn Shiuk clothes, and her long black hair had been the same.

The fire in her eyes were the same too, he could see. But he didn't know what this meant, only to perceive that there was something divine in Nari. Something familiar also that resonated with him.

"You have experienced and done many amazing things already, Nari of Toukoku. I'll return this comb to you, for if the lady Raia is gone, then it rightfully has come to you. And so with you, my service- for this time at least...
If you are indeed the leader of the 'Aptok-un-Shiuk' that you say, then I must then present to you Myoan of the Emiyu, who had come to the Lady Raia before, with a hope to aid her people to escape this place. And now unknowingly with that hope answered, now the Emiyu may return from their exile to the world you and I were raised in."

Myoan presented herself to Nari.

"Of our people there are stories and tales older than you may know, young Nari who rules Toukoku. But there is no time I am afraid to say for such tales. On behalf of the people who once lived in Musho, I want to extend a friendship and pray for your aid to help us as we return. Times may be difficult for both of us, I think, but together we can live and flourish. The Emiyu people do not like war- we are peaceful, and now with our power diminished, we may not fully appear in our form within your world. We only wish to return to our home." She finished.

And Nari, who looked up at the dragon, felt no fear and gave a charming smile of hers.

"I have no problems with this arrangement and offer my help if I can. There will be difficulty and trouble for us all I think, but we are similar. I was a refugee lost from my home, and so are you the same. It is fitting then, that we should work together to make our home as beautiful and noble of a place as we can. I welcome the Emiyu to Toukoku."

Nari replied with a nobleness that seemed to make for a formal ceremony. And then Myoan took human form, and they took hands together with smiles of gratitude.

The Shiuk and Nari - A Legendary Maiden is Deified

The Emiyu all gathered, Ya-un-Kurumi, Myoan, and then Nari at the front of this group, all prepared to leave. And Nari held the comb of Raia in her hand, as it was the key to this gate now. And to press forward into the whiteness, reaching for her own hopes and aspirations, her dress and clothes shimmered, and she was filled with light and energy, and joy. She was alive. The comb was hers, and she held it close with a sudden tender thought.

And then the gate had passed, and they were within the stone temple again, in the valley of Toukoku.

And around the world, a flickering divine spark seemed to ignite. A familiar feeling to some, but new and different in some ways. But it was a warm spark.

So it was that the Emiyu returned to Toukoku, to see it with joy and surprise after such a long time. And the Aptok-un-Shiuk joined with them, and made friends of them, and so it was that the people of 'Toukoku' became united.

Acts:

Become a Goddess

Major acts:
1 major act: Gain Ability: Divine Charm
1 major act: Gain Ability: Thaumaturgy: Fortune
1 major act: Gain Domain:Fortune (1)

Minor Acts:
1 minor act: create a city - new city of Toukoku
1 minor act: Move a population of 1000 Emiyu from Mumonkan to Toukoku.
1 minor act: Inspire Population of Toukoku: Nobility and Charm

White Blade

2010-10-05, 10:11 AM

Warring with the Hurricane
A terrible, awful force hummed down low upon the earth, the force of the winds themselves in anger, the tearing, brutal strength that uprooted houses and tree, that hurled stoneand earth to the left and the right.

And there, before it, unmoved like a mountain, stood the grandson of Rognir. His eyes gleamed with the terrible might of his ancient lineage, and his arm was by gripped the Lion's Shield and he readied himself. Then the center of the windstorm reached him and he was hurled about for a few minutes, bested by the winds in a way that Raia had not been when she made war with thunder and lightning. But then, almost without warning, he began to grasp the sharp winds in his unarmored hands.

His hand spilled blood, falling to the ground beneath him as the whole of the angry winds turned against him. His hands ached and screeched in pain and he caught more and more, and then just as he succeeded, the winds made one last taunt and hurled his shield to the far winds. But then they solidified beneath Verdant's hands and he shaped them into his new blade.

Thus was the Hurricane Blade created.

Catching a Sha
A Sha is a great beast, though it is not large as many of them are. It is small, perhaps the size of a greyhound, and it is immensely cunning. For the most part, they reside in Neg, but on occasion one goes elsewhere. One had made its way to Hith. It is a cunning beast, and save a notable fondness for fine wine, the Sha never, ever get caught.

So it was that the perfect glass of wine was poured in a clay bowl made by the princess. Verdant took the bowl and set it out in one of the empty plains of Hith and left. No being but the Sha could see or smell it, save Verdant and the Princess, and the Sha spent nine days and nine nights watching the bowl, to see if it was a trap.

In the end, though, its desire was too strong. It closed in and when it leaned in to drink of the wine it cursed its foolishness. The bowl was a bowl of mirages, which unveiled desires to whoever saw it. And then, Verdant clasped the Sha by the neck and slits it throat, and made a coat from its deceitful skin.

Thus was the Sha Shield made.

Raz_Fox

2010-10-05, 10:20 AM

The Island - Heradi and Faolan

Blood trickled from Heradi's mouth, but his eyes did not flicker, even as Faolan crushed his ribs underneath his boot. His eyes were closed; his fingers were limp and open, like a man lost in sleep, a deep and dark sleep.

The Squire - for that is surely who the old man is - comes to stand before Faolan and Heradi, shaking his head sadly. "Is it not enough to take the sword? Leave him be. I know that the children of the Old Man have more honor than to kill an enemy in an endless sleep."

No, Faolan. For a moment, Faolan cannot help but to glance over his shoulder, to where his grandfather must surely be standing. His voice was quiet, as if he was standing right at Faolan's side. Heradi is too dangerous to be left alive. You know what you have to do - for your family. Do it swiftly.

Nari and the Death-Thief

This night is a night of joyous celebration. The Emiyu did celebrate with the Shiuk, and the Tengu with mankind, and all did raise their goblets high to praise the new goddess that had brought them together. Never was there a goddess as beautiful as Nari, they said (and they were right, for she surpassed the beauty of she who once was goddess of beauty like the sun outshines the moon, for the moon is but a reflection of the coming dawn).

But there is one disturbance. The ravens began to gather as the people made ready for the celebration that afternoon, perching in the trees, watching with their black eyes.

As dusk fell, the ravens rose from the trees, beating their wings, and descended to the earth in a great whirlwind of thrashing limbs and flying feathers, and those that saw them cried out in fear, calling for Nari to protect them from the monstrous hell-ravens they saw.

And a strange thing happened. From the chaos strode a man, tall and thin as a skeleton, with the bearing of a proud king. His hair was ragged and dark as a raven's feathers, and his skin was pale as the water of a raven's eye. But only Nari could see past the glamour he wrought - his rags, fit only for a beggar, his long, mighty Tengu-wings, the bloody pits where his eyes should have been.

He bowed before the queen of Toukoku with a mocking grin, once the Shiuk fetched her to deal with this phantasmal stranger. "Good eve to you, Nari. Is there a room at your feast for a wandering vagrant?"

TheDarkDM

2010-10-05, 12:33 PM

Faolan stood frozen over the sleeping body of Heradi, torn between the words of the old man and the disembodied presence of his grandfather. Heradi was helpless, yes, and Faolan had never been one to slay a defenseless opponent. But every fiber of his being cried out that of all the gods, Heradi was the most deserving of vengeance. This close to him, without the distraction of battle, Faolan could smell the corruption, the pain that lingered on Heradi like some abominable perfume. Everything standard Faolan held called for the death of this monster, and the voice of Rognir provided sweet comfort for his bruised honor. Yet cutting through his indecision like a knife was the knowledge that Heradi had escaped death once, had survived running through the apocalypse of the Uttermost South, and if slain would likely return with a new repertoire of horrors for the mortal world.

Faolan lifted his boot from Heradi's chest, and changed his focus to the Squire. The old man was honorable, that was sure, but he could not know the sins that damned Heradi. But Faolan would not spill useless blood on his host's land. Stretching out a hand above the comatose god, Faolan willed him deeper. As his consciousness stretched into the soil and through it to the living stone below, a great maw seemed to rise up and devour Heradi, dragging him further and further into the bowels of the earth. Only when he was entirely submerged in rock, encased in a crushing tomb of stone, did Faolan cease.

"I would not kill an enemy so disadvantaged, old man. But Heradi is more dangerous than you know and has the blood of countless innocents on his hands. Entrapped in the earth, he is removed fro the board, and the world is safer for it. Farewell."

Faolan strode back towards the shores of the island, returning to his monstrous guide. With a short bow, Faolan communicated the conclusion of his business, and with a vaulting jump he landed on the dragon's back.

"Come, my friend, let us retrieve my beleaguered vessel and continue west. I owe my uncle Eridi a visit."

Acts Used:

1 Major Act to entrap Heradi far beneath the earth.

Kaiser Omnik

2010-10-05, 04:41 PM

White Blade

2010-10-06, 10:43 AM

In Hith
A Devil and his Snare
There were ravens. There were always ravens. There were also crows. Many crows. What was it with the Blackwings and those birds? Was it personal conviction that they needed to be surrounded by birds that smelled faintly of dead flesh? Verdant knew that a major part of the reason was that the crows and ravens ate human flesh. They used them to dispose of the bodies. But do not interrupt Verdant's flowing stream of irritation.

It wasn't anything especially notable. A farmhouse. Who runs a massive assassin's league out of an abandoned farmhouse? Then again, Verdant remarked, maybe that's why they did it. It wasn't complicated, really, a few seeds of a certain kind of vine that encases a building overnight, a little bit of fire, and then the place went up in smoke.

Of course, the crows all started attacking Verdant then, as he waited for the man inside to make a run for it. That was painful. It wasn't so much that Verdant had difficulty killing them, it was like swatting flies. But when there are ENOUGH flies, things get dangerous. In the end, he beat them off and caught up to the assassin.

The Assassin had not been idle, he had weaved a complex circle around himself. Magic. The Blackwings were notable for being the only assassin's circle who regularly utilized magic. Notably curses. That was what made them so valuable. Nobody every caught a curse-user, unless they lived in Zhang Ghou. On the rare occasion that somebody realized they were cursed, it was never possible to track it back. Unless you were Shen Shi Zhu, Verdant supposed.

Verdant walked over the circle and slew the assassin. Cursing and screams poisoned the air and Verdant thought he had escaped unscathed for a moment. How very wrong he was.

Healing
There are certain kinds of magic that are really rather vicious. There is a certain kind of curse that prevents wounds from healing, as opposed to causing any. That's what the sorcerer-assassin used. So, bleeding from countless peck wounds, Verdant struggled back to the castle and got the attention of the princess before any more amateur healer might have arrived. Dragged back to the room, bleeding profusely, he wished silently to himself that this wasn't necessary.

The princess poured ointments onto his skin, muttered words of power over them and drew blood, putting it out in a circles around her. Then, almost without warning, every wound closed completely. He looked up at his lover and smiled, "You're the best,"

"I know," the Princess replied.
"Where'd you learn to heal like that?"
"From my father, Celestan," she replied easily, "Where did you learn to survive wounds like that?"
"From my mother, Calantha, who taught me how to hide within myself."
The princess raised an eyebrow at that comment. But she didn't ask.

ArlEammon

2010-10-06, 02:03 PM

Shen Zhi Shu at Rognir's Fall

Shen felt a presence behind him. He instantly recognized his exarch, Ruah. The golem took a few steps and knelt in the sand. He still towered high above the old man.

"What's left for us, Master? What is our place in the world?"

Visions of Ateris and Rognir's duel, Heradi's agony, and Sovvenia's mystical defenses from the Battle of the Tree flashed in the god of magic's head.

"It is a perfect place for insight. Memories are still very vivid, because of the Mistress."

"This is a good question, Ruah. I think that it should be obvious that I get away from Zhang Guo for a while. But I don't know where, outside of Toukoku, that I should go to. I suppose it would be a good idea to try and make it to the outside world for once, hopefully without an interruption this time."

Kaiser Omnik

2010-10-07, 07:15 PM

SoundtracK: "Carry on my Wayward Son (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pw6_VXPwm6U)"

There is a man. He appears in various contexts, at different times, in communities all around the world. Sometimes he is a baker, at other times a carpenter, a hunter or simply a wanderer seeking shelter for a few days. About everyone has at least a great uncle or a distant cousin who knew the strange fellow that they call the Everyman. He usually fades in the background of any local story, never taking the central stage; he seems to be neither a hero or a villain. He is always described the same: an honest, very humble and energetic southerner who displays great care for his job and for the people around him. The Everyman is remembered by the men, women and families that took him in with them much kindly, but rarely do they realize how much they owe to the free-spirited traveler. For he brings out the best in everyone, and thanks to him people who had lost faith and confidence in their lives were now dreaming again of a better future, ready to inspire others as he had gently inspired them.

???

Celestan found himself bathed in sunlight on the bank of a peaceful creek, surrounded by a circle of trees displaying magnificent shades of yellow, orange and red. As a cold breeze brought falling leaves, the god of fire realized how vivid everything was at this moment, how everything seemed simply too pure. And then there was a woman standing beside him, with long, braided jet black hair and a blue veil covering her face. Despite this guise, Celestan instantly recognized the new presence.

"Mother...?"
"Ah, my son. How have you changed and matured! Yet this face of yours is as radiant as the moment you first set eyes upon the world. Are you truly ever young? How marvelous!"
"What is this?"
"I am a vestige of Sovvenia."
"The armor again?"

The fair maiden laughed and sat on a flat rock. Celestan watched her and picked up a bright red leaf which had just landed on his shoulder.
"No, that's not it. I am the vestige of Sovvenia that resides in you. Every memory lives in the heart of those who accept to safekeep it. In this case, your birth mother symbolizes a more introspective part of you."
"Never did much introspection, I'm afraid. I always lost my focus when I was meditating in Toukoku's gardens...and I still cannot stay still more than a few minutes at a time!"
"Yes, that's obvious. But perhaps we can still make a more thoughtful man out of you, Celestan. If I'm here, isn't it a sign that you are not all that happy or comfortable in your situation?"
"I don't see why really."
"Why are you not accepting my gift - your grandfather's gift? We are an ancient and proud race, us Gods."
"Seriously?!"

Celestan punched through a nearby tree.
"Damnit, when you've seen as much bloodshed and sorrow directly caused by your own family members - turned against each other - how can you think about them as "superior race of beings"! All these oaths and divine plans are rubbish!"
"But it is a part of you. You can't run from yourself."
"I'll choose what and who I am, thanks very much!"
"Is that so? What if your experience living among mortals like one of them diminished you? Is that even the best way to empower them? Believe me, I know one thing or two about being lost, my son - and it seems like you are lost inside your own mind, or should I say, inside the collective mind of humanity."
"I'll live free, like Orgo. I don't have to search for my Self. I simply am. No strings attached."
"Are you? You're not much more than a ghost in the mortals' lives, now."
"I won't be a tyrant, or an idol. I will glady step back for them to have their glorious time under the sun!"
"Then you'll simply fade away. Keeping in touch with the mortal world is good, but you're not part of that world. You walk the fine line in between. This makes you a compassionate and understanding god. You have the power in you to shatter walls and boundaries, to bring together gods and mortals. Should it all go to waste?"
"Am I so special? I wonder..."
"My son...

The ultimate test is still ahead. Pray you are ready, then."

The vision of Sovvenia disappeared, and soon the creek and the trees did too, leaving Celestan in a void...

Kasanip

2010-10-08, 04:19 AM

Nari

The celebrations had continued with their affairs until the coming of the ravens. In Toukoku there had always been crows, for they were close to the Tengu, and often even the Tengu would take this form for themselves and their tricks.

But the crows and ravens were different birds, and one should never think they are the same. There were many ravens, because always there had been battles and death. And where there is death, the ravens might come.

Some had thought long ago, that Garadiel, the God of Death, had cursed the ravens so they ever followed the feeling of death. And there was always death, and so they always endured and traveled.

But there was always life too, and so people did not fear the ravens of Toukoku easily- for warriors it was a sign to prepare for battle.

But these ravens were different. And Nari, who was still a young goddess was called to address the traveler.

She could see through his disguise, and his mocking grin made her uneasy. But she bowed her head to acknowledge him, a content smile on her face.

"Room for a wandering vagrant depends of course with the answer of a question: Why is the wandering vagrant a wandering vagrant? People wander for many reasons in this world after all.

But please come and sit and tell your story." She said to him with a welcoming gesture.

The_Snark

2010-10-10, 04:37 AM

The War of the Five Princes

In times of peace, men are drawn to many things: wealth, power, wisdom, beauty, good humor, and the lure of glory. But in times of war they are drawn most of all to one thing, and that is strength.

Ba Shaan was strong.

In a single stroke, the once-commander of the palace guard had set himself above all of his other siblings, and his armies swelled as rivers do in spring, when the snow melts. His sister fell away from him, but even with that loss the size of his forces was increased twofold, and then threefold. Many of the men of the South joined him rather than make the long and bitter trek back to their homes, and the name of Ba Shaan spread to every household in the Far West. When people spoke of the war, they spoke of him; not all believed he would be the next king, or wished it so, but he was always mentioned second among the princes—if not first.

Like the rivers in flood, his armies could not be contained, and soon they spilled outward. They met Hissai's steel-clad warriors in battle to the east, and laid siege to Aradoch's cold keeps in the north; in the heartlands Ba Lutei found her forces hounded at every turn, and it took all her skill as a general to keep out of her brother's hands.

From her seat in the capital, Lilike watched and was troubled. She had told Ba Shaan earlier that she had no stake this war, but this was no longer true; in refusing to aid him, she had made an enemy of him. He would not forget that slight, and if he won this war, he would be the ruler in the people's eyes, not she. At best, she would be banished back to her father's cold and lonely tower at the edge of the world, never to have a hand in the ruling of the nation. That she could not bear, for she was not her father, and did not revel in solitude.

And so Lilike summoned her servants, both mortal and magical. She bid men from the city to go forth into the countryside and collect a tax in Ba Shaan's name, claiming that he had ordered this in a message to her. This was done. Many of the country folk shrugged their shoulders and paid, and all manner of goods made their way to Lilike's coffers in the capital—they would become Ba Shaan's if he won, true, but for the present they were hers. Others balked at the tax, and spat whenever they heard the name of the great general.

Next she called upon her oathbound servants, the traitors she had freed from Kylfa-Madur's punishment. They were none of them trustworthy, and might have broken their oath to serve her; but they remembered their long torment under Kylfa-Madur's spell, and thought she might inflict it on them again if they displeased her. They answered her call, and she commanded them to use their arts to hinder Ba Shaan's armies. This was done. Some of the ancient traitors stalked ahead of Ba Shaan's armies and blighted the land, so that when his men came to ask for food there was none to spare. Wells became sickly and black as though coated with oil. Men vanished in the woods at night, and folk began to speak of terrible crawling monsters in the woods, like the corpses of shattered trees come to life.

Then Lilike closed herself in her chambers and cast spells of prosperity and good fortune, only tainted with the black words she had read in her father's library. That winter became very hard for the people of the Far West. Rats and weevils and all other manner of vermin multiplied, and the winter storms drove them into people's homes and cellars, where they devoured food that people had set away for the barren winter months. The wise shut their doors at night and did not open them til dawn, for the night winds had a foul odor, and often carried sickness. Wolves and other wild beasts roamed abroad wherever soldiers did not, and many a farmer found himself besieged in his lonely house.

The war went on, but the harsh winter had poisoned the armies and made them sluggish. In the north the cold was particularly bitter, and there Ba Shaan's men suffered a number of great defeats. To the east they fared better, but Ba Lutei continued to elude her brother's grasp, and as spring approached she made her way to Hissai and joined her forces to him.

The people began to grow weary of war.

1 minor act spent to curse the hell out of the population of the Far West. Possibly also a major act spent to gain the Curse domain.

White Blade

2010-10-10, 02:14 PM

The stars wheel in the heavens and those that were not called at the beginning now start to take their place at the end. Betrayer and Vexation takes their places with the constellations of the west, laying in with Poison and The Unsearchable amidst the hallowed stars of Ateris and Kyfla-Madur and the pilgrim stars of Ganrei. Peace-Giver meets Favor forming the crown of a new constellation, said to be the loveliest in the sky. Somewhere in the east stars begin to tremble toward the center of the sky, called to their master, Protector, Maker, and Giant-Slayer. The Serpent and the Sacrifice begin to know again their names. And if you know where to look, still more stars change their places. But all those stars pale to the triad stars of Sky-Burner, Moon-Swallower, and Sun-Drinker which keep on marching north, their course never slowed but sometimes quickened.

Star-Gazing
They were alone, near the top of a far off, idyllic hill. One lay within the arms of the other, their eyes were turned upward towards the stars, to the nature of all things, and one whispers to the other, "I love you," and then their breaths are caught, and silence reigns forever in the moments between the words and their answer, "I love you too."
"I have heard... That the stars changed once before, when the children of Rognir ascended. They are changing again," the woman says.
"It's true. But they've changed a few other times too," the man replies quietly, thinking back to his father's words on the stars. Remembering... judgment. Pain. New hopes, family, and mercy. And laws, that can never, that should never, be broken.
"Do you think perhaps we can take them for our own?" the woman asked, with a mixture of fear and ambition in her voice.
"If we are able, if we are willing... Yes, it has already begun. If we serve neither mortal nor god, if we cut our own path, if we are slaves to no one and nothing... Then you and I... yes. We could take the stars. We could claim them."
"How?" her voice seemed desperate, edged. Didn't she know? Hadn't she been told? Had her parent not advised her?
"Rognir said that his children had to pass the test alone, that they must do so on their own merits, without aid. That a place was won with strife and sacrifice, and that the cost was always great."
The woman pursed her lips thoughtfully and there was silence between them for another tiny eternity before she said, "Okay."

Sweet words were exchanged between them, kindnesses and lovelies, and they lay together that night, before they returned to the castle. From that day forward, Verdant saw a more terrible, powerful, and beautiful woman than he had seen before.

The Test of the Leviathan
There are seven names, and seven more than that, that are given to the wild, angry beast who rules beneath the seas, the covenant warder till the day that the sky burns. He is not a cruel creature, nor is he truly deserving of hate. He and his two brothers were made, according to legend, for the same purpose. To protect and guide the children of Rognir. Ziz and his sunrise wings, teaching and showing, The Behemoth and his ancient hide, defending and warning, and Leviathan and his terrible scales, holding back the secrets which Rognir lay in the depths... Till his children were strong enough to claim it for their own.

Well, a grandchild of Rognir needs to make his attempt. Water is soft and strong, the harshest foe of any glory seeker, and it is persistent and mighty. It drowns all alike, god and mortal, and it yields to no one and nothing. So it was that Verdant picked his latest challenge.

He had to travel to a port town, he crafted his own boat and rowed it out to sea. He reached the edge of the deeper waters that were so often the domain of only broken ships and the Leviathan's teeth. Then, as the waves grew higher and higher, and the wrath of his enemy howled louder and louder, Verdant let out his furious cry, "Leviathan! I challenge you! Come! Come!"

And then the waves go mad, and there is thrashing, and a great, mighty tail reaches from the depth and smashes the little row boat of Verdant and hurls him into the sea.

It is terribly, terrible dark beneath the sea. This is what the legends of Eridi and Garadiel do not tell you about the deep sea when Leviathan draws nearer. The thrash of the ancient serpent goes about, and Verdant cannot see it, only feel it as the mere force of its movement buffets him to the left and right.

Verdant had learned the old words that were said amongst Garadiel's first people to have been boasted of by Eneliel when Raziel (a cultural hero, and the supposed father of the Twelve Tribes) had made a war challenge with Eneliel, Can you pull in the leviathan with a fishhook or tie down his tongue with a rope? Can you put a cord through his nose or pierce his jaw with a hook? Will he keep begging you for mercy? Will he speak to you with gentle words? Will he make an agreement with you for you to take him as your slave for life? Can you make a pet of him like a bird or put him on a leash for your girls? Can you fill his hide with harpoons or his head with fishing spears? If you lay a hand on him, you will remember the struggle and never do it again! Any hope of subduing him is false; the mere sight of him is overpowering. And being a brave man, he decided to issue a challenge, to test himself against the standard of Rognir.

He was beginning to think perhaps he was a little overconfident. The tail whipped him and the the shield he had made from a Sha's hide faded like it had been struck by a thousand years of angry waves and he tried to pierce the serpent with his blade, but it shattered against the serpent's hide. So he tried to climb atop the back of Leviathan, but he was bested. He drew himself up at the bottom of the sea, and struggled to stay conscious. He still needed breath every now and then. He forced his way to the surface, against the force of Leviathan's waves.

He gasped for breath and then a great wave sought to catch him, and thrust him again beneath the sea. Struck by an idea, he caught it and bent it beneath his hand, folding it backward again and again, till at last there was a blade beneath his hand strong enough and sharp enough to hold against Leviathan. Then he plunged again to be beneath the sea, and he caught sight of the serpent and stripped it of one of its scales , using the scale as a shield against the crashing force of the waves. He crawled to the top of the snake and thrust the sword deep within the beast's skull. The beast roared and darted upward, for the first time in many years emerging from beneath the sea.

I am bested! it cried angrily, almost broken, Did I displease Father? Did I ever break my covenant? Speak what you would know, child of Eneliel, and be done. Leave me to the depths, which are mine till the day the stars burn by my covenant with my father!

Verdant froze. He had not... expected that. He knew the ancient beast couldn't die, not so long as Rognir's stars still hung in the sky. But he had not thought it a challenge of any kind, not that there was a secret to learn or anything like that. So he thought long and hard, looking to unravel just one riddle that might deliver up great rewards.

"Tell me, then, how to defend something, how to keep it safe, even when the gods make war with it."

Lock it deep within your heart, be prepared to die for it. Guard it with implements of war, and make it a peril to all who draw near. Hide it from those who seek it, and unveil it to their enemies. Now let me go, child of Eneliel.

Verdant uprooted his blade from the beast's head and leapt, landing in the sea. He swam back to the shore, using the Shield of Leviathan and the Sword of Waves to reach the shore faster.

Raz_Fox

2010-10-11, 04:58 PM

Nari and the Death-Thief

At her words, the vagrant gave a long, harsh cackle, which died down to a wheezing cough. "My story? Ah, but I am not the subject of any story, but the teller of other's tales. I have come here from afar off, to speak with the newest member of the old family. Because our story is ending, and you must be ready." He limps over to the chair given to him, slouching down into the seat. Those around him move away, for he smells of the waste of birds and of ancient, stale sweat, and the smell of an open grave. "Come, Nari. Ask of me what you will, and I will answer it for you. Such is my curse. Quickly, quickly - we do not have much time. The sand is falling from the glass, spilling out to where it can never be recovered."

Kasanip

2010-10-12, 06:49 AM

Nari

Nari looked a little confused, though her smile didn't dim.

Though the air around the Death-Thief was foul, Nari's own radiance filled the room, and it smelled like peach and blossoms.

"Old family? Your story is ending? I am afraid I don't follow. The stories and tales that I know don't point of anything like this, and I am Nari. I am no one especially important, except perhaps here in Toukoku.

I may have questions, but surely these have come only with your words also. The divine family I know that which my people's storytellers said, and most of the Lady Raia, and of Lord Celestan. I do not know you, or what your curse is that brings you here.

If you are cursed to tell me something, then maybe when telling this, your curse can be appeased."

She looked to be in thought for a minute.

"I think perhaps you should start with me then, for there is much about myself I don't know. You call me a new member of the old family, but I don't understand, and what story is it that is ending?"

White Blade

2010-10-13, 11:29 AM

The Kingdom of Hith, outskirts
The outskirts of Hith are defined on one side by mountains, and on the other side by the coast lands. Toukouko is not a near neighbor, and the mountains are empty save for the giants. The inability to cross the mountains safely are what split Hith from its neighbors and give a boundary to the international system in Iuvenis.

Giants war parties were growing more and more frequent and Verdant, Squire of Rognir, was called out again and again to the edge of Hith. He would prepare ambushes that struck down his enemies. He build mighty walls and channeled rivers to block the giants ways. He released strong beasts into the mountains near their cave-holes that devoured the giants and small beasts that ate their food.

He made war and battle, his Leviathan shield and Wave blade serving him well. He slowly gathered a new picture of these war proceedings, interrogating many giants personally. His guard was fierce in his service, and it grew in skill daily. Soon enough, he was sending them off to collect a real guard for the tree. He had no need of them here, and the battle ahead would be more terrible than this.

He recruited from the experts amidst the king's court to be his direct helpers and for his aide he drafted a old spy that had retired to tavern-keeping. And day by day, the giants grew fiercer and bolder, though Verdant's efforts turned them back at every turn. And he could not help but wonder... Why?

One night, he and his force made camp in the wilderness and Verdant took his turn at sleep in the early evening, as was his way. When he awoke, he found himself alone in the woods, terribly unarmed. He looked about in desperation for his enemies, and heard the thud, thud of heavy footsteps guided by a single smaller set.

So. Here they came. Giants, lead by whatever traitor had drugged him and dragged him out into the middle of the woods. The voices began to carry, the simpering sound of Verdant's aide's voice reached him, and he silently cursed his own neglectfulness. His aide had been a spy for the king, many years prior, and Verdant had had to draft him to get his information. It was clear now that the reason why the spy had retired to being a tavern keeper was plainly that he was the blackwing from his quarter of the kingdom.

"Remember the deal," the spy said, "I give you the squire and his weaponry, you give me the spells we talked about."
"We remember, stupid little one," a giant's voice mumbled, "Did you use the drugs you use on giants?"
"Yes, in full dose, just like you said. But even a squire of Rognir is just a man, don't blame me if he's dead."
"Oh, I doubt that'll be a problem," Verdant said, lunging outward and twisting off the spy's head in one smooth motion.
The giant leader was an intimidating individual. If you saw him, the first thing you noticed would likely be the strange, red paint that covered his right hand. It wasn't blood, it smelled like ashes, and when he move his hand, the paint shifted like it was water in a bowl instead of paint on a hand. Next you would notice the hand shaped burn-scar along his face, that would fit his own hand perfectly. Then the ram's horns that circled just above his ears. He looked sharp and threatening, not at all like some kind of commoner giant, and at his right side was a sword readily available to his left hand.

The lesser giants were marked by their clean cuts, their fitted armor and their cunning eyes as expert warriors. And Verdant was terribly unarmed. He was not at all afraid of course, not of some expert giant warriors. He was the more skilled, the more adept, his eyes were the more cunning and his god-like skin was harder and better fitting than any of their armors. The strange giant and his red hand, they caused him some trepidation but besides that... No.

The battle was a swift one, with Verdant's brutal fists busting open one giant's skull and taking his weapons. He broke that blade and shield the way he did all mortal-craft weapons, by crashing them against the head of his foes. Shards and of the shield went everywhere in sharp points and he grasped one after another, piercing through skulls with the remains. Soon, the enemy giants thinned and it was just the Red Hand and two or three others.

Grasping one sharp, lethal pointed shard of a sword, Verdant hurled it at the giant and it stuck in his right eye. Verdant was shocked it did not pierce, but the angry giant turned and shouted for a retreat, leaving him alone in the woods.

The Kingdom of Hith, Inner Range, three weeks later.
Verdant had been forced into a retreat to the core of the kingdom, as a flanking force had poured out of the sea and was making its way to the capital. He began to make his latest sword and shield, with finest steel. It took many days, but he crafted a fine blade and a superb shield beneath the eyes of his lover.

The blade was sharper than any blade forged with mortal-craft, it was firmer than any made before it, save the craft of Eridi, the sword of Kyfla-Madur, and the work of Rognir. The shield was stronger and braver than any predecessor, and Verdant was confident in it. And the princess smiled on them, and marked the shield with sigils of firmness and protection and etched the blade with words of might and destruction.

And it was truly said, that from the day that the sons and daughters of Rognir made their first forays into the craft to that day, there was never an equal. And both lovers were satisfied in the work. Wonder, Awe, Glory. They were almost gods, they felt as if they could taste it beneath their tongues, like they could hear the whispers of its kindling, like they could smell its scent, like they could see its shadow cast on the ground before it.

"Where did you learn such skill?" Verdant whispered to his lover, as they gazed upon their works.
"I learned it from my father Shen Shi Zhu, when he taught me every secret word, and you?"
"I learned it from my father Orgo, when he shaped me like a blade."
There was soft laughter that did not betray a loyalty to their kingdom or an anxiousness about the coming battle. And then they went to bed.

Two days later the enemy forces arrived from the sea. The skins of these giants were tainted a faint blue, their force was strong, and Verdant led the forces, directing them to the left and to the right. The battle was long and harsh, but in the later half of the first day, Verdant led the charge and decapitated the leadership of the enemy army. Then it was simply a matter of clean up.

But there were still more forces, still an army in the mountains and coming down. And prayers go to every god, and people lie and hide in terror and Verdant and his lover meet.
"This is it," she says to Verdant, her smile cunning and bright, "We can best these giants alone, just the two of us. We'll be the giant-slayers, we'll be gods."
And Verdant smiled by way of reply, "Of course, dear lady, of course. Tomorrow, we will march out and kill their leaders."
But their words were heard by the last lieutenant, and warning was carried to the giants, though even Rognir does not know why, or what purchase the lieutenant sought to gain. Whatever the case, he was killed by the giants, and ambush was laid up for Verdant and his lover.

Captured
Verdant and the princess marched to the mountains under cover of a shadow-spell weaved by the princess. They moved silent amidst the plains and woods, till at last they came upon the camp of the giants. And then, without warning the Red Hand and thirty of his best men set upon them, and battle was joined. But the Red Hand, with his one terrible eye and the waves for his weapon and with the Leviathan for a shield, met and bested Verdant, for Verdant was distracted defending the princess (who, for all her skill with the magical arts, was no great warrior).

They were both knocked unconscious and the rest of this story, I think, is better left for another time.