Empire 6: Y37 - Tarandi Theological Summit at Winter Town: Questioning a God

[Laura]

Tarandi Theological Summit at Winter Town: Questioning a God
Those that spend an action to attend this event will have an opportunity to communicate with the Great Mother.

Year: 37

---

It begins with a rumble in the mountains. Small at first, little more than a rustle in the trees, it grows and spreads from the South until to the Shani it seems all of Tarandi must feel it. As once, the Children of the Great Mother who have remained in elven lands fall to their knees, and the Skyclad Dancers of Tri'Meloa behold a vision out of legend. Descending from the Mountains of Wrath, the Great Mother slides like an avalanche towards Shandolýn. Her head larger than the greatest shaní wigwams, her body an infinite tide of ivory scales, her coming blots out the horizon with a dazzling gleam. Panic is her vanguard, as those in her path fear the careless destruction of a child kicking over an ant hill, but the Great Mother moves with unerring confidence and lightning speed around all living things in her path. Those left in her wake are slow to realize that not a single building has been touched in her coming. Coiling around the mountains, she sends streams and rivers spraying into the air, banishing gravity for a time until the last rumble of her slithering fades. Coiling around the Santícemnáh Mountains, she looms down over Winter Town, fixing the Winter Hall with a single ice-blue eye as large as the hall itself. There is a susurrus from her nose, like the echo of a thousand snow-melt streams, before she releases a blast of hot air that sends a summer wind blowing down through the vales towards Summer Town. Satisfied with her overwhelming scrutiny, her neck slides back, depositing the Great Mother’s colossal head less than a mile from the gates of Winter Town.

[The Great Mother has appeared in Shandolé! Any kingdom spending an action to be present in the region may attempt to commune with the Great Mother this round, before she withdraws back to the deep wilderness.]


~ From E6 Round #10 Opener (Wonder: Paragraph #10)

---

As the mountain shook and the canyon of Winter Town rumbled, shaní hurried to shelter with cries of alarm and dread. Many called to their families and animals, seeking those dear to them amid the rising chaos. Most believed that an earthquake had struck the land.

Then the shadow of the rising serpent fell over the homes of Winter Town and panic turned to cold dread. Deep fears of the dreaded cimndíclâgení, the all-consuming Ice Worms of the glaciers, sprang to mind, but this serpent was larger even than those behemoths and her scales gleamed in pure shining ivory, rather than the jagged black ice of the cimndíclâgení. And rather than a maw of gnashing teeth descending upon them, the Great Mother’s enormous scrutinizing eye shone down. Beneath the cries of chaos, words of awe and recognition began to ripple through the shaní. All had heard the legends of the Great Mother and they realized they were in the presence of a mighty Can’Calah. Some bowed. Some cowered. Many simply stood in dumbstruck amazement.

Where he stood on the Winter Hall balcony, the captain of the Winter Council’s guard, Tessá’Lýn – Rain on the River – clutched his spear, his mouth agape, as the Great Mother leveled her gaze upon him. Both words and actions evaded him and he stood frozen, staring back at the deep pool of that eye. Then a hot hissing breath knocked him to the ground, before gusting through the canyon and on out, down the course of the Kalyn. When she finally lifted her gaze and shifted her great weight away, Tessá’Lýn simply sat on his ass, staring after her.

“Well done Tessá’Lýn’Dihn,” came a sarcastic voice, “Ye chaise it off! What would the Council do without yer gallant protection?!”

Tessá’Lýn blinked and looked up to see Novíkin’Westrí along with most of the Winter Council and the Eagle Lord, Toshá’Átrí, standing in the shadows of Winter Hall’s caverns. Westrí had his arms crossed and looked as cool and unconcerned as the icy peeks of the Santícemnahs themselves, but the rest of the gathering, at least, looked shaken and anxious. Even High Speaker Talákin’Záni’Quêzí, was pale.

“Get up Dinh,” Zán’Quêzí ordered, “Take yer men into the town below an’ try to restore some calm an’ order. Help any who might’a been wounded in the chaos an’ assist people in getting safely to their homes. Also see to it none chaise foolishly after the Can’Calah. The Winter Council shall address the Great Mother’s appearance shortly.”

Tessá’Lýn scrambled up and bowed to the Council and the Eagle Lord, “Uh… hrm, Aye’Siah. O’ course. My apologies.”

Westrí shook his head and stepped out of the way, so Tessá’Lýn could hurry toward the steps leading down into the town.

---

As the captain of the guard gathered his men and left the Hall the councilors all looked out beyond the balcony and the canyon to where the looming shape of the Great Mother’s head could still be seen resting about a mile from town near the bank of the river. Then they moved uneasily back into the chamber of the cavern.

The whole of the council was assembled, along with Toshá and Westrí. They’d been discussing plans for invading the Goblin Kingdom, but the crude maps and scrolls containing information of lands south of the Fylyn, now lay abandoned on the table.

“I kin we should put our previous discussion aside fer the time being,” Zán’Quêzí said in a slow deep voice.

Toshá clapped her beak with angry inpatients, but then tilted her eye toward the balcony and fluffed her feathers with a resigned sigh. “It does seem that more pressing matters have arrived upon our doorstep.”

“Aye,” agreed Tuadá’Lyndi. She had her hand on the lasso coiled on her hip, massaging the hemp fibers nervously.

“It seems the Great Mother has answered yer challenge Leósha’Lýndónah’Cai,” Zán’Quêzí said, and everyone turned their eyes over to the chief lore-master.

Lýndónah was standing near the back corner of the Hall, her back braids shining in the torchlight and her cornflower blue eyes pensive. “It seems she has,” she agreed, “I will go an’ address the Great Mother an’ ascertain her intentions here today.”

“Ye shouldn’t go alone,” Zán’Quêzí said, “Since I’ve been elected High Speaker, I may as well actually do some speaking. I shall attend with ye, Lore-master.”

“I’m going,” Toshá announced, “On behalf of Áquêzíbarûdolýn and the Blue Moon Council, I intend to confront this serpent.”

Westrí stepped up positioning himself close to Toshá’s right wing. When Zán’Quêzí met his eyes, Westrí simply stated, “I’m with Her Lordship.”

Zán’Quêzí folded his long fingers before him and nodded. “Very well, I shall attend Leósha’Lýndónah’Cai an’ Novíkin’Westrí’Dihn shall attend Toshá’Átrí’Siah, as they go out to speak with the Great Mother. I kin it best that the rest o’ ye remain in the security of these halls an’ help Tessá’Lýn’Dihn restore order here in town.”

“We should also prepare messages to send out to the Council o’ the Vale an’ Thunder Halls,” Kaíske’M’Kaskí said, “I believe Edge, uh, I mean High Speak M’Eld’Quêth’Dóah has recently landed in Summer Town an’ word can be quickly sent yonder south to Thunder Halls.”

Lýndónah nodded, “Let me seek words an’ find out what the Great Mother wants first, but I kin it will be wise to send messages to many o’ Wider Tarandi an’ those o’ the Orders as well. In fact, we may very well need their advice an’ support.”

---

Requests are sent to:

Skystruck Tree and the wise Thi’Skaid of the Wardens of the Awakened Realms, recognized as leaders in the Way of Death and to whom the shaní have often looked for spiritual wisdom and guidance in the past decades.

~ “We seek yer guidance and insights once again, Wise One.”


The Truthseers, who are renowned for seeing past the surface and sussing out the true intent behind the words of others.

~ “We kin there is little trust built between us, but we are not blind to yer skills an’ wisdom. If ye would be willing to attend the Winter Council an’ share what insights ye can on the words o’ the Great Mother, it would do much in furthering a new trust to be found between yer sisterhood an’ Shandolé.”


The Sentinels of the Stone. Edge seeks out the newly recognized shaní hero, Valens, to inform him of the situation and ask that he pass the news on to the Sentinels, along with a request from the Winter Council that the Order lend their expertise in understanding both monsters and those that wage war upon the blightspawn.

~ “So ye be called Valen’s now, aye? If yer not too busy a’hiding fer weeks in a dung heap in order t’ ambush Sludge-blights an’ Dire-rats, or with some other such pursuit . Maybe ye can pass this letter along t’ yer friends in the Sentinels.”

Invitations are sent to:

Keeper Jia Polahi and the priests of Sangar, recognized as leader in the Way of Song.

~ “We would be honored to host ye an’ your selected entourage in Winter Town an’ hear yer words an’ questions regarding this matter.”


Thought King Kartoffel and the philosophers and tantric masters of the Breyewen Tribe, recognized to be the leaders in the Way of Thought.

~ “We would be honored to host ye an’ your selected entourage in Winter Town an’ hear yer words an’ questions regarding this matter.”

Eaudan the Moon Goddess, via her two most famous oracles, Shysie of Hiverness and Neyrna of Arrok.

~ “Please pass our most respectful invitation on to Eauden, that she attends the Tarandi Theological Summit in Winter Town the ten days around the full moon nearest to Summer Solstice o’ this year. As the most widely respected Can’Calah in Tarandi, her words an’ questions fer the Great Mother would be greatly honored and appreciated. If the goddess o’ the moon is unable to attend in person, please be assure that ye, her oracles, will be made most welcome in her name, should ye wish to attend.”


The Atheist Philosophers of Eleftheria, who are strange but still respected and have a unique view on religions and gods.

~ Your perspective and wariness of the divine would be much appreciated in the matter. We would be honored to host ye an’ your selected entourage in Winter Town."


The Circle of the Strix's Quill, a recognized and respected religious order in Tarandi.

~ “We would be honored to host ye an’ your selected entourage in Winter Town an’ hear yer words an’ questions regarding this matter.”



Circle of the Fanged Pack a recognized and respected religious order in Tarandi.

~ “We would be honored to host ye an’ your selected entourage in Winter Town an’ hear yer words an’ questions regarding this matter.”


Other delegations from recognized orders or nations will doubtlessly hear the news of the Great Mother’s appearance. Though no more official invitations are sent out, Shandolé shall not forbit attendance nor deny passage through their lands to those that present themselves as guests of the Winter Council and give assurances of peaceful intentions and a desire to speak with the Great Mother at Winter Town.

[Laura]

The Day of the Great Mother’s Coming

Lore-master and chief shaman of the Way of Simráh, Leósha’Lýndónah - Peace in Deep Waters -, was dressed in her most formal attire, the green robes of her Order, representing the stage of Life in the Cycle, and the antlered headdress of spring. Feathers and wooden chips with sacred writing caved onto them hung like chimes from the antlers and her name chip hung by a leather cord around her neck. Tattoos colored blue, green and red were patterned over her face, hands and arms up to the elbows, symbols of traditional and religious significance that marked her as a leader, chief and a teacher to her people and she carried a shaman’s wooden staff.

Aside from her dress and the increased in tattoos, those who met Lýndónah nearly forty years before at the Summit of South Rock would observe little difference in her appearance. Small and petit for a shaní, with a youthful beauty and large cornflower blue eyes, she seemed almost childlike, with two long black braids falling from under the headdress and smooth copper-brown skin. If she was frightened by the enormous serpent before her, she hid it well, with only a tightening of her lips and a slight shaking in her free hand to betray her. She strode forward and bowed in the manner of a Shándole greeting.

“Long days an’ warm nights to ye, Great Mother o’ the southern mountains. Yer name an’ reputation proceed ye. Indeed, much has been spoken o’ ye in this last decade here an’ far yonder. Nonetheless, yer arrival at our doorstep was unexpected. If yer intentions are friendly an’ peaceable, allow me to welcome ye to Shandolýn an’ Winter Town. I am Leósha’Lýndónah – Peace in Deep Waters - o’ the Winter Coucil an’ Chief Shaman an’ Lore-master fer the Scribes o’ Simráh.”

At her side, with his hatches belted to his waist and his spear held easily in hand like a walking stick, was Zán’Quêzí. Beside Lýndónah, he seemed to tower in height, though in the shadow of the Great Mother they were both seemingly as small as mice. His blue eyes were fierce, but the rest of his face seemed placid, if a little wary. He gave a bow and a greeting same as Lýndónah, “Long Days an’ Warm Night, Can’Calah. I am Talákin’Záni’Quêzí - Eagle Flies High and Sees All – the elected High Speaker o’ the Winter Council here in Shandolýn.”

“I am Toshá’Atrí, Lord of the Eagle Clan and High Speaker for the Blue Moon Council of the land of Áquêzíbarûdolýn.” the eagle lord didn’t bother with wishes for days or nights, nor did she bow. Instead she perched herself on a tall redwood, so she could look sharply into the Great Mother’s eyes an arrogance paired with an assumed nobility sparking in her yellow eyes. “We would know your intentions in trespassing upon the lands of Shandolé, Serpent.”

Novíkin’Westrí said nothing, but silently took up a position at the base of Toshá tree, his spear held in hand in a seemingly casual manner. He neither bowed, nor presumed to present himself and dare seek the Great Mother’s eyes upon him.

---

((For those attending the event, please title you first posts “Later that Year” as it would take time for news to spread and travelers to arrive. Unless someone was in Winter Town the day of her arrival, they wouldn’t be able to be in the scene started above.))

[BladeofObliviom]

Later That Year

The Magi Nila-Sen of the Circle of the Strix's Quill Tracing the River's Path was a strange woman. Unremarkable on her face with olive skin, dark hair, and dark eyes, she was plain in appearance but for a well-keptness and few scars, with soft pale skin that marked her for all to see as having come from wealth and privilege. Her traveling clothes, consisting of a finely-cured horsehide tunic fastened with scrimshawed ivory fibulae, with suede gloves and moccasins sewn with shagreen-sole dyed an earthy red, all wrapped in a thick layer of marbled furs sourced from Shandole hunting grounds and processed by Danneta-Yvaon craftsmen into a stunning hooded garment that practically billowed as she moved, and finally accented with a tasteful but still opulent silver torc with a pair of inlaid emeralds coiled about her neck: These marked her as very much still possessing great wealth and privilege. What no aspect of her appearance showed was her birth forty seasons from the Phoenix, near to the day, and her excited teenage efforts to gather as many written things she could get her hands on, her scandalous youthful travels with merchants visiting Uldra and Hiverness against the desires of her parents, her own efforts at poetry, her shock the first time a fist clenched in anger turned the mists of a hot spring to slush.

Years of training had long since turned her into a great scholar and true River-smith, foregoing the trickery of old for real power derived from technique and will, absolute faith. She was not a founding member of the Circle, but when it was formed she was among the first to inducted as Magi, respected and welcome in its ranks. But for all she had done and mastered, still Nila-Sen felt the pull of adventure calling her away. When the Shani bid the Circle to come before the Great Mother, the Circle balked and refused to organize what many saw as a heretical pilgrimage for the Children who even now spread sinister coils and mind-poison across Tarandi, but this Magi was curious. Not present on behalf of any but herself, she set out on horseback for the mountain pass she'd seen only on maps, and made her way for Winter Town.

There were plenty of other Dannu-Gao in the Elven lands, mostly merchants and loose members of the House of Mak who were there as standing diplomatic envoys, but the Magi was a different creature entirely. Present on behalf of no other, hungry not for wealth or power but for knowledge.

"Hail!" She cried as she approached the site, scarcely restraining her excitement and terror at seeing such a creature in the flesh, even at a distance. "I am a Magi of the Strix's Quill, come for this gathering. I fear I may have missed whatever revelations may have come thus far, but I am here now." She looks back at the Great Mother. "What a creature this is, surely. Like a mountain in motion, a mighty earth spirit. I wonder no longer why the Children so revere her. I wonder instead how she feels about them, if she thinks of them at all."

[Tychris1]

Later That Year

It was glorious.

A mother’s love was a warm and irreplaceable thing. To bask in the glow of the divine and the tender oversight of a wise matron was a wholly unique experience. Transcendent. Nothing could compare. The caress of loved ones and mortals were like the gentle ephemeral wafts of air flowing through ones hair. Pale shadows imitating the glory of the sun’s rising. Who could deny such a sight? The ivory land itself roiling to life, brought forth by the sanctity of the eternal vigil, and imbued with kindness and generosity for all. A fool shares their weapon freely with all. A blade loaned carelessly will soon be returned through the back. But the Mother knew better. She gave and she gave and she gave. A boon to restore life and to banish the Blight. From her immense maw was wisdom, power, and joy flowing in equal measure. It would be returned to her tenfold. It was the place of Children, to help in the care of their parents, and to give fealty to the holy and righteous.

Reforged in her image. Valens had wandered through Winter Town shortly before her arrival, scavenging what he could, and ceased his hunt when the ground began to shake. A Shani of middling height, his flesh had grown patchy with ivory scales, a sign of the countless scars that once wreathed his body, and his left hand was all but unrecognizable to an Elves. Dagger like fingernails extended from an ivory hand, longer and stronger than his left hand, and coiling patterns of scales flowed from it up his arm. What remained of his normal flesh beneath hardened leather and laced sheets of blackest iron was mahogany in tone. His hair was bundled up into a ball behind his head, auburn locks tightly bound, and kept in place with a long bone carved with Kagahara. His eyes were slits of bright green, affixed irrevocably towards the monument of his devotion, and hardly blinked as he murmured prayers. Black Iron daggers laid in a circular shrine before him, Valens periodically and efficiently sharpened each blade one by one, and awaited his mothers embrace. He paid no mind to the strangers afar or the natives of his home. Their babbling was nothing but empty noise filling the time between the now and revelatory proclamation.

————————-—

This must have been some kind of a cruel jest. Kylara was sure of it. First she was assigned to oversee the matters of the Windowless Tower in Braye, a contested land that stunk with the fetid rot of those animals, and now she received word from her elder crones to go into the land of the River Elves! In all of Tarandi only the Shani came close to the animosity she and all her order felt for The Nemesis. These Elves, savages and repugnant rabble-rousers all, had long ago rebuked the pristine and uplifting hand of Truth’s civilized caretakers. Now that a massive serpent had descended upon them they wished for aid now. Infants terrified by the consequences of their own actions. Disgusting and pathetic. Kylara rode on her horse carefully, her pristine white robes blending in with the snow, and her guards trudged along silently. She could smell the fear in their hearts, almost as pungent as the odor of foul chaos in this realm, and she had made sure to not give them their full payment until after they returned to the Tower.

Eleftherian of birth she was a little heavier set than her contemporaries, her pale skin holding rosy cheeks, and a plumpness that helped to keep the bite of winter off of her. Blue eyes, strikingly similar to the Great Mother’s she idly noted as she slowed to a halt, gazed over the others gathered, and ceased on the Magi. A sneer slowly stretched across her face, quickly obscured by the cowl of her robes, and yet a glimmer of resentment still beat beneath her stonefaced imperial visage. The Dannu-Gaon were true champions of civilization, a fact she had exalted these past few years, and their opulent donations to the Sisters were undeniable. And yet.... they had maneuvered to put a Windowless Tower in Braye instead of the Jewel of the North. Far far away from the center of glory in their mercantile demesne. Insulting at the highest but worse still perilously deep in the heart of a land whose “King” was a devout follower of The Nemesis. She said nothing, merely bowing her head in deference, and waiting to perform her magics upon a creature the likes of which she had never seen before.

[Laura]

Later that Year

The canyon walls of Winter Town rose high on either side, the swaying green canopy of the forest rising even higher above the rim. Twisting roots and the broken rubble of clay and earth could be seen near the top and then the hard layers of grey stone, gradually descending into the dim shadows. Homes were built along the many ledges and crannies of the cliffs, some carved right out of the living stone itself. Narrow paths wound and zigzagged along the walls and a number of bridges, some made of the stone some of wood, crisscrossed at various heights the stream that rippled through the bottom of the canyon. Portable wigwams made of hides and latticed sapling poles were set up close to the water. Summer was well underway and the fast and dangerous rapids of the spring floods had calmed, the water level lowered enough to make the banks safe for habitation.

Dags and horses stood by and Shaní were sitting about the banks and ledges, many working diligently at various crafts. The clack-clack of napping stones could be heard and a large gossiping group of weavers were working under and copes of trees clinging to the cliff’s side. One shané was weaving baskets, while chatting with a shaná washing clothes, the two exchanging smiles and flirtatious giggles as the each worked on their own tasks.

The canyon was quite large, a massive crack cutting into the side of the mountain, like a scar left from an enormous axe that meant to have felted the Santícemahs themselves. At one end it widened, the stream forming a little lake, before moving on down the slopes to join the Kalýn. Here, the forest hemmed in closer and various bushes of barriers, and gardens of useful vines and herbs were cultivated. Fishing traps and several canoes were tied down along the muddy banks. On the further end, the canyon was very high and narrow, the stream emerging from underground and then dropping in many waterfalls over the rough stones. The carved face of Winter Hall rose here, doors and balconies leading into the depths of the mountain caverns, where catacombs and passages ran deep into the mountain’s roots.

It looked old and for all their bustle and lively chatter and activity the shaní couldn’t fill the emptiness of deep time that lingered in the canyon. They barely used half the homes and many crannies and sections of ledges remained abandoned, ruins of lost times.

Summer was not a popular time to live in Winter Town, as the name suggested it was traditionally a refuge in times of winter or hardship, its defensibility, deep cellars and sheltering walls a place to bunker down and prepare. The semi-nomadic shaní typically abandoned the looming old canyon for fairer fields and brighter banks when the spring floods arrived, but it was different this year.

This year the Great Mother was at hand and people from all over Shandolé and all of wider Tarandi had made their way to Winter Town to look upon her and seek communion with the greatest Can’calah to ever be observed in the memory of all Tarandi.

---

As Magi Nila-Sen made her way toward the village, many shaní waved and smiled. The Dannu-Gao were always welcome. They were known for wealth and stories from around the north and carried out a lot of trade both here in Shandolýn and in Shilo Vale as well. Her fine clothes and jewelry identified her as more than just a common tradesmen or frontiersman and a number of shaní dashed off ahead to carry word of her arrival to Winter Hall, running with an elven speed that could match a galloping horse.

As she pulled her horse up at the site of the Great Mother, a group of shaní were already gathered, dressed in swayed leather and tunics of woven mammoth wool, their long braids and tattooed faces dappled by the sunlight coming through the forest.

“We all have wondered many things,” said a deep voice near at hand. Glancing down from the majesty of the Great Mother, Nila-Sen saw a tall shané with bright blue eyes and beads of silver and feathers dyed blue decoding his braids. A pair of hatches with metal blades were belted to his waist and his posture was easy but also confident, as if nothing in the world could ever bother him. He gave her a slight smile and then bowed, fist to forehead, one leg crossing elegantly before the other. “Long days an’ warm night to ye an’ well met. I am Talákin’Záni’Quêzí, High Speaker for the Winter Council. It pleases me to see one come from the people o’ the Dannu-Gao.”


---

As Valens sharpened his blades most other shaní kept well away from him. The ivory scales and clawed white hand didn’t seem to make as glorious of an impression in the eyes of others as they did in his own. A couple of hunters passed along the pathway someway below, leading their mounts, weapons over their brawny shoulders. They looked up, staring briefly over and whispered, before ducking behind the necks of the horses and moving quickly on along the canyon paths and out of sight.

Valens had been given a home to stay in. An old crumbling stone house carved into the stones of a side crevasse and located well away from other occupied areas. The fur flap over the door rippled slightly as a draft gusted down through the stones, light barely reached into the depths. A spring of water gurgled through the silence, trickling over slimy stones to join the stream in the main canyon a ways below and a nest of swallows could be seen up the cliff wall, the birds coming and going over his head in graceful swoops, shadows flicking below them.

A larger shadow moved by, passing over Valens' scaled hand and the circle of black blades and the Sentinel glanced up to see Edge sitting on a narrow ledge above him. The elder was scowling, one knee pulled up close his arm resting upon it, as he glared down. The shán had been haunting him with glares and glowers ever since he arrived, and it seemed like it must be more than Valens' bizarre appearance that bothered him.

Edge met his eyes and then sneered slightly, moving his gaze to the circle of black iron daggers. “They’re real then. They actually choose ye to carry black iron in their name. When I didn’t see a sword belted at yer side, I’d hoped the whole thing were just a damned telamei tale.” Edge spat at one of the swallow’s swooping by, causing it to swerve sharply away.

---

Kylara and her guards were met with curious eyes as they drew near to Winter Town. It had been many years since a Sister of the Truthseers had walked in their lands. Stories of their powers, tales of both deceit and revelation, truth and hidden secrets had woven together to create a mythos in their absence. Most dared not greet her, wary that her eyes might pierce their kaí, or her ears hear the very thoughts in their minds.

However, once she neared the site of the Great Mother, an entourage of shaní finally did approach. The were led by Leósha’Lýndónah, dressed in her formal shaman attire and she was joined by Tessa’lýn and a couple of the other shaní guardsmen.

Lýndónah bowed, her antler headdress swaying wide with the motion, as she touched fist to forehead. “Well met, Sister o’ the Truthseers. Long days an’ warm nights bless the journey o’ yer ka. I am chief shaman Leósha’Lýndónah an’ on behalf o’ the Winter Council, I welcome ye. We are very pleased that ye have come.”

[Elemental]

Later That Year...

It had taken some time for the Moot of Elders to decide what to do about the appearance of the Great Mother in Shandolyn. It had been many many years since a deity had come before the peoples of the world in the flesh and fully two thirds of the Moot were already in the process of preparing to travel south to pay their respects and seek the wisdom of the Great Mother on any number of matters. Fortunately Hazash Namakor, Aranin Sarak of Iskandrazac called an emergency meeting and managed to temper the enthusiasm of his fellow Elders. After all, a couple hundred revered elders and their attendants and guards descending upon Shandolyn would be a strain upon their hospitality, not to mention it would lead the governance of Aran Viska severely understaffed.

To resolve this issue the Moot instead resolved to elect from among their number a representative council consisting of ten members, three Saraks, a witch, a healer, two sorcerers, a Cayshan Priest, a Zarak Elder and a scribe. On the way to Shandolyn this group makes the decision that the young Sarak, Izanna Vaskal, shall be the speaker for their group as she has the clearest voice and best understanding of the ways of the various Gods and Spirits of Tarandi beyond the progenitors of the Viskari.

In time they arrived in Shandolyn and sought accommodations among the Shani, gifting their hosts with finely crafted goods and silver talismans as thanks for their hospitality. While their attendants and guards were free to spend their time with the Shani and share stories and eat, drink and make merry with the gracious Eternal Folk, the Elders of the Moot themselves spent their first night in seclusion and on the morrow they departed their accommodations and approached the Great Mother.

Dressed in their finest regalia, the furs of great beasts, cloaks of feathers and wool, jewelled talismans and bracers, carved staves and many other symbols of office, the Elders of the Moot stepped forth and as one lowered themselves to one knee before her. After a few moments they rose and their chosen speaker approached.

Izanna wore a long cape of white and grey feathers over a woollen robe dyed a soft blue. A silver and gold talisman depicting the Sun half-eclipsed by a crescent moon hung from around her neck and she wore an antlered headdress. In one hand she held a staff adorned with black feathers and topped with a silver star which she clutched tightly out of nervousness. While her garments made her look very imposing, all could tell she was out of her depth in the face of so titanic a being. After a few moments she managed to summon enough confidence to speak and she cleared her throat.

"Oh Great Mother of the Mountains of the Sun," she began with a slight tremble in her voice that she managed to overcome, "I bear unto you greetings from the Moot of Elders of Aran Viska. Our humble and meagre blessings upon you. We hope to learn as much from you as you are willing to share with us."

As she spoke, the delegation's scribe, Makaz Terral, laid out a sheaf of bark brought from Aran Viska and with knife in hand readied to record the words of the Great Mother.

[TheDarkDM]

The Day of the Great Mother's Coming

Approached by a delegation of the Shani, the Great Mother remained still as the mountains above them, her cold eyes staring unblinking as creatures that were as ants beside her made their pilgrimage. Nothing changed as the assembled elders spoke in turn, until the final demand came from Toshá’Atrí. There was a rumbling from high in the mountains, and as it came closer the bulk of the great mother shifted, her head rising once more until she looked down upon the elders, blotting out the sun. An echoing hiss escaped from between the massive serpent's lips, and in its echo were words the Shani could understand.

"MY INTENTIONS ARE MY OWN, LITTLE ONES, BUT YOU NEED NOT FEAR ME. I COME AS I WAS CALLED, FOR MY CHILDREN HAVE SOUGHT ME OUT AND TOLD ME OF YOUR DEMANDS. THEY WISHED FOR YOU TO LOOK UPON ME AS I AM, AND THE NIGHTMARE HAS EBBED FOR A TIME."

Another rumble followed the Great Mother as she circled the delegation in the air, before returning to her rest before them.

"THE LAND CANNOT TRESPASS AGAINST ITSELF, LITTLE BIRD."

The Conclave

Magi Nila-Sen's idle musings carried perhaps further than she'd intended, as the Great Mother's head shifted to better examine the northern Magi. There was a slow slither of breath, almost a laugh, before the hissing words came in reply.

"ALL WHO MAKE THEIR HOME IN THIS LAND ARE MY CHILDREN, LITTLE WITCH. I LOVE ALL WHO LIVE, UNTAINTED BY NIGHTMARE'S TOUCH. THOSE WHO CHOOSE TO TASTE OF MY DREAM HAVE CHOSEN TO SHARE IT, TO SPREAD IT, AND THEY HAVE MY GRATITUDE. BUT NO GREATER SHARE OF MY LOVE THAN YOU."

One enormous eyelid blinked with the speed of a tree in collapse, refocusing in time to blaze down on Izanna Vaskal.

"KNOWLEDGE IS PRECIOUS, AND SHOULD EVER BE SOUGHT. I HAVE NO SECRETS FROM MY CHILDREN."

[Elemental]

The Conclave

The Viskari delegates had assumed that the Great Mother would respond cryptically and were glad that she had chosen to speak relatively plainly. There was still some mystery, but she did not speak in riddles to them. The Nightmare was clearly the Blight and her Dream was clearly that of a world free from it and other more mundane sicknesses. Nevertheless, Izanna trembled before the intensity of her blazing gaze, but it took her only a moment to gather her composure.

"We have many, many questions, too many to list all at once," she said, "We know almost nothing of you and so we first ask that you share with us your story. Where and when did you come from O' Great One and how did you come to be what you are now?"

[Laura]

The Day of the Great Mother’s Coming

The High Lord of the Eagles ruffled her feathers, looking affronted and snapped her beak once, before opening it again. However, before she could voice her displeasure, Lýndónah spoke up, pretending to be too far away to notice Toshá’s rankle.

“Ye have a right to keep yer intention to yerself, Siah,” she said, “But ye have come an’ we have looked upon ye. For certain ye are a powerful Can’Calah, an’ yer patients an’ restraint seem evident. This, I kin, we can all grant, but what is it truly that ye wish from us? Is it blind devotion an’ impassioned worship? Do ye seek to be a god to us?”

“I tell ye true, Great Mother, we can grant ye respect. We may yet grant ye trust. We may even choose to take to ka the wisdom o’ yer words an’ take into our hands yer causes, if they be worthy, but we do take upon us gods. It is not according to the Way.”

“The drink of your visions the Children pass about, this “Mother’s Milk,” has proven to hold great power for healing an’ strength, but the cost seems to be the free will to choose for oneself the passions o’ one’s own ka an’ the motives of one’s own actions. We have seen our closest friends, as well as our greatest enemies, put aside the burning passions of their own causes an’ lives an’ abandon all they once loved, after only a taste of this so called milk.”

“It is known that without the freedom to choose, there can be no true devotion to anyone or anything. And a life dominated by the will of others is hardly a life lived at all. We must be free to seek enlightenment, or Ka and even Simráh itself shall stagnate in the darkness.”

“What can ye say o’ this drink and its strange effects? Are they by yer design and intention?”

As Lýndónah spoke her speech, Toshá continued to keep her feathers ruffled in insult and displeasure, but she didn’t interrupt, nor did she speak after, but only turned her yellow eyes on the Great Mother to hear her answer.

Zan’Quêzí said nothing, but simply stood by, studying the great size and shape of the serpent and trying to read what expression he could from the Mother’s reptilian visage.

[Tychris1]

The Conclave

”Long nights to you, Elder.” Valens finally answered Edge after he finished his ritual. The blades were stowed away in mottled leather sheaths all over his waist, legs, and chest. The motion a blur, his scaled hand the cold gust of a blizzard, and his gloved hand raised swiftly to his head in a closed fist greeting. He stood up, quiver of arrows jingling upon his back, and prepared to leave his domicile to speak unto his Great Mother. He stopped a moment, blessed hand caressing the frame of his exit, and gave it the appreciative once over of a father or a craftsmen inspecting their wares. “I killed the Blight. The Sentinels were pleased. That is all,” He nodded sagely “It is good. Perhaps we can kill together. As Brothers in arms. It gives me peace. Life is a continual motion but my heart yearns for a stillness it can never have. When I cease the movement of one its Ka ripples into me and I am at once nothing and everything with Her.”

Valens threw his arms wide in reverence to the massive Snake and prostrated himself fully.

“Oh Great Mother! I follow in your trail willingly to the ends of our crusade and shed my blood without fear. But what awaits the end of our crusade? Will I know hallowed silence? Will there ever be an end? Or shall we simply cease upon our glorious destinies completion? Please Great Mother I hunger to be Whole.”

Elsewhere, Kylara looked upon Lyndonah with a cool calculated facade of statesmanship. She was hardly interested in their babbling but the appearance of impartiality was important. She gave a wane smile and a curt nod of her head. ”It is always our pleasure to see Truth be unveiled. The Shan are noted throughout Tarandi for their peculiarities and their admonishing of deities. The revelation of one such appearing on your doorstep, well, the irony cannot be missed by a fool. We shall observe this Great Mother and discern the truth from the lies of her testimony if any.” She guided her steed away from the throng of Elves and listened to the Great Mother speak. She focused upon her breath, watching the cold air manifest before her, and concentrated on the reverberations of this massive entities mystical speech. She was surprisingly fluent past the constant hissing. Unlike Valens she did not preach at the top of her lungs but spoke softly, her voice carried by imperial authority, and a collected majesty that exceeded her age.

“Oh Great Mother. Surely not all that live are deserving of your mercy. Some only seek to pillage, defile, and destroy all that is good and just. They may not be touched by the Nightmare but they act in accordance with its brutal philosophy all the same. Will you not strike down such folly?”

[TheDarkDM]

The Day of the Great Mother's Coming

A long expulsion of breath from the Great Mother's nostrils shook the forest before the hissed thunder of her voice replied.

"I DESIRE NOTHING FROM YOU SAVE THAT YOU LIVE, LITTLE ONE. THOSE WHO CALL THEMSELVES MY CHILDREN HAVE CHOSEN TO TASTE OF THE POWER THAT GIVES ME LIFE, THE IMMORTAL DREAM THAT SUSTAINS MY PURPOSE. IT IS A TERRIBLE BURDEN, AND ONE THAT FEW OF THEM CAN SHOULDER UNCHANGED, BUT IT HAS GIVEN THEM THE STRENGTH TO PROSPER WHERE ONCE THEY SUFFERED. AND BECAUSE THEY VIEW IT AS A BLESSING, THEY HAVE CHOSEN TO SPREAD THE DREAM OF THEIR OWN ACCORD. SOME MAY EVEN CHOOSE TO WORSHIP ME, BUT I AM NO GOD. I AM YOUR PROTECTOR."

The Conclave

Her massive body shifting in the mountains, the Great Mother looked down at the Viskari.

"I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN, BUT BEFORE THE FULLNESS OF MY LIFE I AM NEWLY BORN TO THIS BODY. THE NIGHTMARE'S VIOLATION WOKE ME FROM THE DEEP CURRENTS OF THE WORLD, AND TO PROTECT ALL LIFE I GIRDED MYSELF IN THESE SCALES. YOU DO NOT CALL YOURSELVES MY CHILDREN, BUT EACH AMONG YOU IS AS PRECIOUS TO ME AS A BABE NEWLY BORN. MY VIGIL AGAINST THE NIGHTMARE HAS ENDURED MORE THAN THREE CENTURIES, AND I WILL KEEP THIS HOLY TRUST UNTIL THE WORLD IS FREED FROM ITS GRIP OR I AM AT LAST SLAIN."

As Valens appeared among the gathered delegates, the Great Mother raised her head once more only to lower it with shocking care to rest atop the prostrating elf's head.

"IF OUR BATTLE IS WON, MY SON, THE WHOLE OF OUR SCARRED WORLD WILL BE MADE WHOLE. I WILL WITHDRAW ONCE MORE, AND YOU WILL BE LEFT TO ENJOY A LIFE FREE OF THE NIGHTMARE'S TOUCH. I SIMPLY HOPE MY LOVE IS ENOUGH TO SUSTAIN YOU."

The Great Mother withdrew, settling back into the well-grooved stretch of forest before responding to Kylara.

"I SEE THE PAIN YOU SPREAD BETWEEN YOURSELVES, LITTLE WITCH. FOR ALL THE WOUNDS I HAVE EARNED IN OPPOSITION TO THE NIGHTMARE, NOTHING PAINS ME MORE THAN TO SEE THE CHILDREN OF THE WORLD DO ITS WORK. BUT IT IS NOT FOR ME TO JUDGE THOSE WHO MAKE THEIR CHOICE BEYOND THE SHADOW OF THE NIGHTMARE - MY PLACE IS BETWEEN ITS MALFORMED SPAWN AND YOU WHO GATHER HERE. IT FALLS TO YOU TO MAKE PEACE."

[Laura]

The Day of the Great Mother's Coming

Lýndónah listened to the thunder of the Mother’s voice and rocked back a step as her breath blew by, raising one hand to hold on her headdress.

Up in the tree Toshá flapped her wings and clung with her talons to maintain her perch.

However, once the Mother finished speaking Lýndónah and Zan’Quêzí looked at one another. They’d been trusted friends for centuries and it took little more than a look between them to understand one another’s thoughts and the High Speaker nodded to the Chief Shaman.

Stepping forward again, Lýndónah replied, “Then we honor ye, Great Mother, as a protector an we honor ye further as both a guest an a part o’ this land. We hope ye will choose to stay some while an’ share yer wisdom with the rest o’ Shandolé an’ Wider Tarandi. If we may do anything to make yer stay more comfortable o’ more interesting, let it be known an’ we shall strive to accommodate.”

Toshá glared down at the shaní, but both Lýndónah and Zan’Quêzí were bowing to the Mother and even Westrí stepped forward and bowed, following the example and words of his Elders on the Winter Council.

---

Later that Year

Edge glared and watched Valens leave, before jumping down a little later and also making his way out to the site of the Great Mother. He’d visited the place, but hadn’t presumed to speak to the Mother himself.

Leaning against a tree with his arms crossed, he watched Valens grovel before her and earn the praise and attention of the Can’Calah. It galled him. Everything about Valens galled him, but Edge wasn’t really sure why. Nonetheless, he found himself wanting whatever Valens had, even if it was just the attention of the Great Mother. And the High Councils had been discussing what questions to put forward. Surely, if he took the initiative to ask them a little early, no one would fault him.

So, when there was a pause the questions being put forth, Edge stepped up and bowed fist to forehead.

“Oh, Great Mother, Protector o’ Tarandi, what can ye tell o’ the one who first spawned the Blightspawn an’ brought the Nightmare upon the world? How may we best prepare ourselves against it? The False Dawn happened once, we seek the knowledge to keep it from ever coming again upon the world.”

--

Lýndónah smiled back at Kylara, making up for the thinness of the Truthseer’s smile by the fullness of her own, “Whatever irony there may be and whatever our differences, Sister, we share a mutual respect for the truth and a desire to see it revealed in all fullness to the light of the world.” She stepped back at the Truthseer moved her horse on past her and the smile faded slightly, her expression turning dubious and slightly annoyed, once the Truthseer’s back was turned.

For all their seeing of truth and raising it upon a pedestal, she though, I think I have yet to actually hear and honest word from even one of the Sisterhood.

Her thoughts were interrupted, however, as she saw Edge step forward and so bluntly ask his questions. What was he doing?! The High Councils hadn’t finished discussing their list of questions and certainly hadn’t intended Edge to ask them. He had no subtlety at all and barely any true respect!

She considered trying to interrupt or apologies to the Great Mother, but it was too late and would only make them appear even more foolish. First I had to deal with Toshá and not Edge, Lýndónah thought in exasperation, as she walked over and cast the other shán a sharp look, before taking a respectful place in the conclave and waiting to hear the Mother’s reply.

[PepperP.]

The Day of the Great Mother's Coming

Tainn had been living with the Shandole' for several years, at first merely as an observer, though the Shan had done their best to make their home her own. It was small differences like the lack of the wolf and moon symbology so prevalent in Hiverness that struck her as she shadowed Lýndónah. It was also large differences like the presence of the Awakened, that made Yara's death nag at her mind as if she had a burr clinging to her that she couldn't brush away. Her reservations had eased as the years passed, and though her cousin's gruesome death had not been forgiven, the pain of it subsided and she found herself settling into life amidst the Shandole', who to their credit, made her welcome with seemingly no reservations on their part that she could discern.

Tainn had followed Lýndónah as the Council was gathered and stare agape at the monstrous form of the ivory-scaled snake. In her shocked state, she had trouble focusing on the Shan language and her understanding of the conversation came is disjointed snippets.

"Who do you protect us from if not each other? Who do we have to fear more than our enemies, or even blightspawn? What do you protect us from?" Tainn forgot her place and blurted as the doubting questions raced across her mind.

[Tentreto]

The Day the Mother Came


Jia moved her old bones as fast as she could. What she had first presumed to be a mere talk on theology had turned into a far more practical occasion. if nothing else, she could respect the snake's directness. Rather than having debate over whether she existed and her intentions, bringing them so directly forward was certainly a boon to all. But the sheer size... by the song of Polahi, she was glad it was here in peace. She had no doubt it could bring back another era of destruction to all the land.

Wheezing, she finally brought herself forward, although likely the snake could see her anyway.

"Greetings, Great One," she exhaled, "My thanks for being direct in your dealings. You have answered much to us all. I have but two questions for you. My first is are there other beings such as yourself, those positioning themselves as protectors?"

She paused for a second to regain her breath. " And what be your song? What is the music and story which drive you?"
The occasion to learn of a being such as this in its song...it was an occasion all the way of song would sing for many many moons.