[Exalted] Brainstorming a Behemoth: The Amoebic Sea of Mad Knowledge

[Leliel]

Anyway, I've been trying to rekindle my old love for ye olde Dungeons and Dragons, and going through the articles of Dragon Magazine, I stumbled upon the rules for intrusion by the Far Realm (for those of you who don't know, it's a hostile alien universe that is the source for no small measure of aberrations), turning various locals into Discount R'lyeh.

More importantly, I found the amoebic sea that is recurrent throughout Far Realm imagery is fairly important to intrusions, even to the point of raining down from the twisted sky in the heart of so-called cerebrotic blots. And given how all Far Realm based powers tie back into certain thematics...

Well, it isn't a Yozi, but the Amoebic Sea certainly has their touch upon it. Which is why I'm now thinking of making "it" a "he"-a powerful and abstract behemoth tasked by his imprisoned masters to remake the world in their eldritch image and bring their wisdom to all. More "alien" and less "horrifying" then either D&D or the 2E Yozis, since I want this guy...amoeba...ocean...thing to be the ultimate antagonist of an Exalted 3E game, and that means someone for whom the reasonably sane would think is an okay object of devotion. I was thinking that since mortal sorcerers are Not A Thing In 3E, his ability is to thumb his metaphorical nose at restrictions and provide a path to for mortals to learn sorcery anyway. Which results in them having cosigned their immortal souls over to him and by extension Malfeas, but hey, at least it's an honest trade, isn't it?

So, here's the idea-the Amoebic Sea, who I am calling Thuum Ngatha for now, was sealed along with his parents Qaf, Kimbery, and Hegra (don't ask) in Malfeas, but being an amoeba, he's capable of mitosis-large enough snarls in Fate or powerful rituals can allow him to bud off bits into the world, creating independent instances of himself. Over time, a bud, sometimes called an Umibozu, begins to leech off Essence from Creation and inspire mortals to worship it, causing it to grow. As it does so, the Umibozu begins to reshape a convenient lair into a pit-like temple to Ngatha, as hidden and out of the way as possible-even underground or underwater, if need be, though this is not an ideal position. When the temple is complete, the Umibozu pricks a hole between Creation and the true Amoebic Sea, allowing Ngatha to rewrite the physical laws of the local area into a self-contained spatial pocket that exists both within and outside of Elsewhere-the core, or Plateau of a new cerebrotic blot.

Besides creating a little bit of Creation where Ngatha can use as a playground and idea summoning point for demons, the formation of a Plateau releases the Sea's living Essence into the ley lines, subtly twisting the world around the Plateau to form the periphery of the blot. This is not a nice, clean sphere-the periphery grows around the Plateau like a lichen, organically and randomly. Within the periphery, those who sleep contact the always-dreaming mind of the Amoebic Sea, sharing in his dreams of alien yet beautiful vistas and nigh-infinite knowledge, wonderful and terrible to behold. Most ignore these, but there's also going to be a few, and the patron Umibozu inevitably finds them and leads them across the threshold into its strange domain. And once there...oh, the things they they see.

Leaving aside the cerebrotic blot's ability to attract converts to a once-removed Yozi cult, however, the Plateau of a blot is its own threat to the gods. As one might imagine for a pocket dimension created by a link to Malfeas, demons manifest freely and without end-mostly First Circle attendants of Ngatha, but more than a few scholarly Second Circles like to visit Plateaus in order to gather the vast amounts of arcane lore that Ngatha collects there, and even Orabilis is known to visit them on his own time on rare occasion (to say nothing of booting the occasional scholar who understands something known only to the Yozis into the skies, which are both Creation's and the strange constellations of Malfeas). These demons normally cannot leave due to the Umibozu forbidding them from using the foci without explicit permission (and quite happily signaling out for sacrifice those who don't listen), but like their father-template, Umibozu are fairly lenient with their decrees, especially when it suits their agenda. As a result, cerebrotic blots often become the beacheads of demonic infiltration, with an almost-endless supply of reserves to spread the word of the Amoebic Sea across Creation.

Even worse, a Plateau is often much larger than the area it was spun out of, or what the periphery suggests-Ngatha thinks of the real cosmos as simply an abnormally stable collective dream, and his power makes this reality. Spatial relationships become less concrete truth and more narrative suggestion, but unlike the waypoints and transitional paths of the Wyld, the interior of a Plateau is a vast, phatasmagoric landscape of non-Elucidian geography, crystalline plants and moss, and demonic cities and villages with towers that twist like snakes into the surreal skies. No area, not even the metaphorical variety, is unreachable, and both demons and their allies take great advantage of this-more than one cerebral circle of akuma have make a Plateau their home and domain over the years, and true Infernal Exalted already look to these places as areas where they can inhabit both of their home realms at once.

One might expect, given all this, that cerebrotic blots attract angry divinities like heavily-armed flies to honey, but here's where the true genius of Thuum Ngatha shows itself-from the outside, a cerebrotic blot looks perfectly normal. Yes, on the ground the periphery tends to have small bits reshaped into strange geometries and designs sacred to the Amoebic Sea over time, but that is very small-you'll only find a couple if you specifically look for them over the course of a week. More than that, the dream of the Plateau as it once was is overlaid over its location, appearing to be perfectly normal, even to the point of creating illusive inhabitants and animals to maintain the illusion of normalcy. The only way one can detect that something is terribly wrong is if some tries to reach it-space bends so that none who have not used one of the Plateau's foci can actually reach it, always somehow managing to get lost on the way, or even unintentionally circumnavigating it altogether.

Speaking of foci, they are usually the few things in the periphery of a blot that seem truly odd, and even that doesn't seem all that out of the ordinary-who is to quarrel with a freestanding altar, or miniature obelisk, or standing stones? Not anyone who wants to offend a god, that's for certain. And yet, nobody builds a focus-they simply appear to mark passages in and out of the Plateau, and destroying one simply causes it to reform somewhere nearby out of sight. The one common element they share is a phosphorescent growth concealed from obvious perception. Anyone who touches this (and is not immediately set upon by the hidden demonic guards) and rubs it on their skin (servants and worshipers of Ngatha tend to smear it on their faces like paint) may travel past (or through, in the case of foci that take the form of arches) the focus towards the Plateau, and space lets them. To a traveler, they don't notice anything strange until it is too late to turn back (a focus never leads a pilgrim to the direct location of another focus), but to observers, they seem to slowly fade out of being as they dive beneath the dream.

And even if a god or their allies were to destroy the core temple and collapse the pocket-what then? Thuum Ngatha is a creature of ideas and dreams, however mad-and you can't disinfect a dream.

Row, row, row your boat, down the Amoebic Sea,

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, the world's but a dream.

Any other ideas? Such as a writeup of a typical Plateau?

(also, there's that whole "patron of mortal sorcerers" thing. I'll get to that)

[Leliel]

Okay. Onwards!

Cerebrants and Xenotheurges: For all the foothold for the forces of the Yozis that cerebrotic blots provide, that is not the ultimate goal of the Amoebic Sea's forays into the world. No, Ngatha has his own agenda, and the fact that the Primordials set it before the First Age began is ultimately inconsequential (frankly, he doesn't even pay lip service to the Reclamation and regards it as a waste of time). That mission? To make everyone understand on an intuitive level the artistic vision the Primordials had when forging Creation out of the Wyld, and to remake Creation in the image of perfection-the pre-Dawn War Primordials not named Gaia or Autocthon.

The cerebrotic blots do wonders towards making progress in the latter respect, but the first presents a little more trouble for the Amoebic Sea. No Primordial thinks like any other Primordial, let alone their creations, so the only way to understand is through mental implantation (which results in far less sane students than Ngatha would prefer), or through understand what it means to influence Essence on a fundamental level-sorcery. Which is all fine and dandy for gods and Exalts, but human mortals had their potential for raw manipulation of Essence sealed away as part of their creation, and even during the Dawn War, they were the most numerous and hardy of all the sapient races (humans are nothing if not adaptable). Perhaps thankfully, Thuum Ngatha was sealed just after he finally figured out:

He himself could be the catalyst.

See, the Amoebic Sea, while he is a physical entity-and a fairly large one at that-he is also a conceptual one of living thought and dreams. Those who know, well, anything concrete about Ngatha, whether it be sensory or academic, play host to an infinitesimal bit of him-so long as there is even one sapient being who knows the name "Thuum Ngatha" or what he looks like, the Amoebic Sea lives on and may be reborn. As one might imagine, this gives him great insight into the psychology and motives of other beings-but more importantly for his purposes, their subconscious minds. From that, it is not difficult to gain a deeper insult into how souls in general work, and sheer potential that lies from the lowliest slave to the Celestial Incarna themselves. Even more importantly, he also is aware of the unique nooks and crannies that an Exaltation fits into, and knows how to squeeze his thought-cells into them.

And from there, he can begin his holy work.

(Will continue, strapped for time at this moment)

[Leliel]

Of course, it isn't as simple as Ngatha willing those he infects to have sorcery-the Five Trials are a core of the process of gaining sorcery, and for mortals to gain the capacity to circumvent metaphysical law, even with his pseudo-titanic assistance, requires a powerful thaumaturgic procedure. Thaumaturgy requires intent, the Trials are very personally focused, hence people must actually seek him out and learn the First Circle on their own initiative.

Of course, the first isn't that hard. As soon as the greater Amoebic Sea becomes aware of a mortal with knowledge of him, he may send some very persuasive dreams and visions. Admittedly, it takes a lot before Thuum Ngatha, sometimes known as the Sleepwalker, realizes something is not part of his personal dreams but something he is really perceiving, which is why the periphery of a cerebrotic blot exists-so that he may guide people subconsciously. Still, hope is part of what the Sea is, so even his idle fantasies have the enthralling nature of a masterful poet or painter. People come to the Plateaus sooner or later.

It's the other part, breaking the normal limits of what mortals are capable of doing, that is rather more difficult and dangerous to the potential student. Still, it isn't for lack of effort on Ngatha's part though-as soon as a student follows the hints his demons leave and ventures past a focus, the attendants of the sea quickly reveal themselves and, after welcomes and congratulations, give the pilgrim an overview of the so-called Journey of Beneficent Cerebration Rite, and a friendly ultimatum-complete the ritual, or never leave the Plateau. People who decide to stay are not held at fault, simply asked to become residents of the strange cities built in the Plateaus-and more importantly, dutiful cultists of the Malfean-born natives, burning scraps they fine across the surreal landscape for Essence-rich sacrifices. The ones who choose otherwise are warned about the risks, which probably cuts down on both true seekers and useless, catatonic failures.

In any case, the Rite involves venturing past every focus in the Plateau in turn (with demonic guides), the more the better (which is more that a bit of risk/reward for the Umibozu-more entrances means more students, but also more chance of discovery). At each focus, the pilgrim studies the construction and materials of the actual focus, and then during the transition between Creation and Plateau observes the way the environs change from the pocket-dream to the world-dream and back again. Once that is complete, the pilgrim journeys to the core of the Plateau, the original pit-temple of the Umibozu, and meditate on the nature of dreams with the assistance of certain herbs that only grow in a Plateau, sending her on a vision quest through the alien, surreal mind of the Amoebic Sea. Tentacles and eyes tend to feature prominently.

If all goes well, after about five hours, the pilgrim comes upon a vast, indescribable shape representing the conscious mind of Thuum Ngatha, as it becomes fully awake for a brief moment. Now fully aware of the supplicant before him, the Amoebic Sea breathes life and intelligence into the thought cells within the pilgrim, creating a semi-sapient voice within the back of her head that is both source of power and mentor, there to guide the new student through the Five Trials-or rather, Two, because the Rite itself covers mentoring, pilgrimage, and fear (anyone who does not feel a little lost and helpless within the dreaming of the Amoebic Sea has already failed the Rite, on the basis of being insane). Just as importantly, the student finally understands-all physical things, all consciousness, all order, even all chaos, is simply an illusion-a dream of the raw Essence of the cosmos.

And when the trial of sacrifice is complete, the new Cerebrant takes his place among the sorcerer-clergy of the Amoebic Sea, a lucid dreamer in the illusion of reality.

(Next up, Xenotheurges-or, what happen when an Exalt buys into the doctrine!)

[Leliel]

Of course, to enemies of both demons and of the Amoebic Sea, Cerebrants (intentionally capitalized-it is a position as well as a state of being) are bad enough-given enough time, Ngatha can turn an entire good-sized cult into a platoon of sorcerers, however weak compared to true Exalts. However, that is not all he is capable of-and indeed, he'd feel somewhat insulted if you insinuated it around him. Surely not only the mortals are deserving of enlightenment? Indeed, the first thing an Umibozu does upon forming a cerebrotic blot is to round up the trapped gods and convert them to the cult on pain of death. The few of those who become Cerebrants become his agents in the Terrestrial and Celestial Bureaucracies, feeding into the illusion of there being nothing wrong.

And then there are the most prized converts, naturally the Exalted. Where all Cerebrants are valued clergy-nobles, the Chosen Ones, unsurprisingly, are the true priest-kings, ruler and shepherd both. These Xenotheurges, while they already had access to the enlightened power of sorcery, have a perspective that no mortal nor spirit can match, and with it, comes unique powers.

While all Cerebrants hear the gentle, wise voice of the Amoebic Sea in their heads, somewhere between their mind and their soul, this is mostly their own thoughts after being refracted and perfected by the wisdom of the Amoebic Sea (which is what leads to their reputation as mad oracles). In a Xenotheurge, however, the voice is an entity unto itself-not quite sapient, but certainly sentient, and restless. The Exalted becomes a focus and a doorway for the dreams of Thuum Ngatha, and once those dreams are no longer bound by the confines of his mind, they put the truth to his belief that reality is simply the idle imaginings of Essence-they rewrite the very laws and form of Creation to fit his imaginings, and the Xenotheurge can direct how.

The Danger: Leaving aside that many who preform the Journey only find death and true madness at the end of it, a few may wonder what is so bad about Those Who Listen, as the cults of the Amoebic Sea like to call themselves. Yes, they serve an inhabitant of Malfeas, yes the cerebrotic blots are infested with demons, but Thuum Ngatha is no Yozi loyalist. In fact, he somewhat disrespects them, as washed-up artists and craftsmen who lost sight of their vision and now primarily exist to make each other miserable. He is also a very fair and generous deity, regularly dispensing knowledge and freedom, even allowing his subjects to bring criticisms against him without real limit.

The answer lies in that very understanding he brings. Much like his father, Qaf, the lessons the Amoebic Sea teaches are hazardous.

After all, why should a Cerebrate care for what harm they do? Creation is just a dream, after all-there's no way you can harm a dream other than by ending it. Death, pain, suffering-all are merely illusions, and while seeing those close to him or her suffer causes them pain-they aren't sociopaths-ultimately, even destruction of the soul is simply changing consciousness from one form to another. Quite simply, they are a religion of true antinomians, and they don't care.

Shall I overview a Plateau, next?