[Empire 6] Grand Opening Of The Archives

[Epinephrine_Syn]

Once every New Moon, The Archives rise from the oasis. A light blue glistening glorious tower, made of Dream Water, illuminating this otherwise darkest night. The Modernte Festival has started early, had an additional day tacked on, and is bigger than ever. Security’s up to the fullest, and it spreads out far and wide. Everyone partakes of the Flavored Water, though a select few can come close enough for the Dream Water, and even fewer to enter The Archives during this vast celebration of their collaborative victory over the Blighted Eidolon.

From inside those Hallowed Halls, the light is omnipresent, but dim. Enough that it doesn’t scald the eyes. The tower is one big room, air light enough you can swim in it, books floating in every shelf of the cylinder that reaches up higher than an Alskan Worm is long. The drums and music of the outside are dim and faint, and the echoes of a thousand unsung voices swirl in whispers on the insides.


“Greetings, one and all.” The benefactor here is a night elf seemingly made of pure liquid fire, translucent, and ten feet tall. Jenifu stands farther back, allowing the South Star to take center stage. The crown on her head glows a bright light, and so do her eyes.

“Here, we may partake of the essence of full knowledge, as a sign of good will. I have divined, among other things, the capacity to share my essence safely to all. Without harm, without threat of emotional havoc. I invited you all here, queens and kings, merchantresses and mercenaries alike. Please, write your stories into the Dream, and learn from it in turn.”

Spoiler: Details

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Fluff wise, partaking of the Dream Water gives one insight into Star Script, able to read the books and lore of ancient things, and see stars no matter their distance. A lot of the point of this miracle was to dissect the Dream Sharing Properties of the Milk, and to do it in a less overtly harmful way through the dream of the south star instead of through jagged venom memories.

Try not to take more than a few drops, as side effects and memories may abound. Drinking a full glass straight from the source may result in total identity loss, but one would have to go out of their way to take that risk.

Although it is not the primary effect, fluff wise alchemy may be used to make the Dream Water behave like milk for the purpose of sharing Jenifu’s Revelations, but this is a specific ritual requiring Mother’s Milk be brought into the Archives, and none is present currently. If somebody wishes to do so, it will be provided on request.

Have fun, chat, make friends, make enemies. Maybe even cause a ruckus out in the Modernte Festival outside The Archives itself, it’s a wild and large party after all.


[Gaius Hermicus]

Millennia of waiting. The thrill of combat, the rush of adrenaline, fading to a dull numbness as the aeons passed. Entwined, constantly, with their great foe, both loathing the beast with which they were trapped, and yet deprived of any other company, a gradual respect, perhaps even a perverse kinship. Knives plunging into hide, jaws clamping into bone, the song of the endless hunt. Adeni waits. And waits, and waits, and waits. Some days (or years? Centuries? Time passes differently beyond the stars), Adeni catches the Hyena, slashes its throat, wrenches its jaws apart, snuffs out its life. Others, more often, Adeni sees the cruel red eyes, thousands of tiny blinking stars, closing in, unable to escape the Hyena’s murderous pounce. Adeni has been killed thousands of times, too many to count, but Adeni has never died. They are the Hunter of Monsters, the Wandering King, the Undying. And so they were, clawing and wrestling their way through the aeons, unaware of the state of the earth.

And then the bright light had arrived, and the prayers of a thousand faithful filled their mangled, twisted ears. Adeni’s people needed them once again. And though they knew the dangers, the ruin that the Hyena would wreak upon the earth, they were powerless to halt the ritual. And so Adeni returned to the earth, and the Hyena was set loose for vengeance. The bond forged in the crucible of rent sinew and shattered bone between Adeni and the Hyena was shattered, and while the Hyena stalked the earth Adeni’s mutilated mind was repulsed from once again combating it. Only when the beast was slain, blown back to the stars by revenant bombs, was Adeni able to unleash their fury upon the imbeciles who had wrought such reckless folly. With the dissatisfied of the Ten Tribes behind them, the Hunter’s forces slaughtered those still beholden to the Hyena, sparing only those whose minds had not yet been derived of all reason. The Cackling Curator, architect of disaster, Adeni slew themself, tearing them limb from limb with unearthly might. Now the bones of the scavenger’s disciples lie beneath the mud of the Eniz river, and Adeni is king once more in the Korebita.


The kings of the past may have traveled with their large retinues of guards, but Adeni needs no great court to accompany them to their summits with the foreign monarchs. On their left marches Medmäsha Tänata, broad-shouldered exile of Galghälani, slayer of greatsharks, claimant of the legacy of Gusuhaz Kw’Sewi as the Warshepherd of the Korebita. On Adeni’s right is Sawut Kw’Torineti, the dreaded Crimson Crusader, who saw the visions of the Great Mother and the Cosmic Hyena alike and yet chose their own destiny. No others travel with Adeni. They are not needed. The deeds of these two speak for themselves. And yet the Wandering King towers over them both, their pale, star-spangled body more scar than skin, stretched twelve feet tall by the Hyena in their millennia of battle. No great weapons are needed for the Hunter of Monsters. Their own two hands, which served them so well against the Hyena, will more than suffice against any mortal assailant. They fear nothing, for they are the Undying.

Into the Hallowed Halls they stride, three living legends marred by the trauma of what they have seen and experienced. While they may be worshipped near to gods at home, the rules are different here, and they must tread carefully. No sense in making enemies out of those who could be friends. Sawut lingers behind respectfully as their liege approaches Jenifu, queen of the night elves, while Medmäshä quietly slips out the back into the revelry outside the Hall. Adeni speaks, and their voice is but the crackling of dry leaves underfoot, the whisper of a loosed arrow, the dying gasps of a beast taken by surprise.

“My story would take a thousand years to tell, and yet you would be none the wiser having heard it. I will leave myself out of your Dream, but I will celebrate its creation while those whose tales are shorter to tell partake. As one who has gone beyond the realms of the mortal to another, let us not waste our breath on that which mortal language cannot express. For the night is black beyond the realms of civilization, and predators still stalk their prey. Will you be a hunter, or will you be brought low by those who seek to hunt you?”

[Epinephrine_Syn]

Jenifu nodded, welcoming the king’s story and grace both and rising up to talk to them. The South Star watched their meeting, but stayed back and quietly observed the way she observed all things within her domain. She herself didn’t have nearly the resounding aura her mother had, but the descriptors of queen of the night elves and ‘one who has gone beyond the realms of the mortal’ both applied to her also.

“That is perfectly fine with me. This day is meant to share and celebrate, and your mere presence contributes well enough. I wish to spread all that I have learned, as thanks for all this world has given me. Not the least of which being because to partake, to inscribe, to codify, all of these things happen not by quill but by a more efficient process, for all the wonders Kagahara has provided us."



There was a pause, and the serenity in her smile turned predatory. “That being said, you have no reason to worry that our willingness to be gracious and magnanimous in our current victories over the heavens and lands will make us soft and unable to confront the bigger predators. Just last year we threw a giant predator out of Sikar itself, and the list of beasts and mundane predators we have conquered would make a list as long as the palace. Any predators in the dark that come to hunt us as we light the way for civilization will find themselves a place on the table during our next feast. We remember how to hunt.”

[Silent_Interim]

Four Scrim slip into the archives, without fanfare or ceremony. Three, clutching tablets of clay and carrying heavy sacks heavily laden down with more, take furious notes about everything, watching silently and speaking only occasionally to one another to corroborate their reports. The fourth, with a slight wooden mask, leads the procession, bowing to those important enough to credit them, and approaching the hosts.

"It is my pleasure to attend this occasion on behalf of the Sunset Courts, your ladyship. I am Scrimspeaker Lejah, and it is an honour to be present at this, what I am sure is a joyous day for you, the culmination of your efforts." Their kneeling and bowing borders on the obsequious, before they once again rise to their full height. At ten feet, the South Star towers over even the Scrim, but they seem unfazed by the reversal of the height differential they are used to. "I regret that I will not be able to partake of your Dream today, but one of our Record-Keepers wishes to, at your leisure."

Outside, two more of the record-keepers sit together in a small island of peace within the raucous festival, the peace wrought only by their looming and unfamiliar presence. They, too, are taking copious notes, sometimes murmuring to each other in deep, rocky tones.

[Epinephrine_Syn]

The ordinary elf sized Jenifu looks over at the scrim, giving them a quiet nod. Her mother has this conversation while she scribbles down some notes about the ongoings. Even though the South Star's face seems to be missing most of its features, it still manages a sly smile as the larger elf shaped construct gives a bow of her own, and as it speaks, the voice seems to reside a symphony.

"Don't worry. This is meant to be a bonding of all life, the joy generated is the point, to explicitly declare that the story of this new world is just beginning. We have gained much knowledge, and freely share it today. Your willingness to add to the tapestry is a bonus."



Outside, the others were let be. Far enough away that many of the people enjoying their more typical reverie weren't able to walk over and ask, even if they were curious. Close enough to be pointed at and for this or that little elf boy to ask his mother what those people were, for Scrim weren't very common in the southern regions at all.

[Aedilred]

The king was too preoccupied with the domestic crisis (and his new wife) to make the journey to Sikar, but the ambassador to Ta Seti attended as the official representative of the kingdom of Limdimon. With smiling face and open palm he greeted his host and the other guests, making polite conversation as required.

There was another here, an onnandis with grey hair of indeterminate age, who appeared less wedded to diplomatic protocol. While he had no official position among the delegation, those familiar with the internal workings of the kingdom would know that he was as much an instrument of the interests of Limdimon as was the ambassador. Yazaburon might not be quite the carefree force he once was: something clearly weighed heavily on his mind, and smiles came less easily to his careworn face, but he had lost none of his cunning.

It was he who approached Adeni the Undying. "My congratulations on your coronation, King Adeni. My king and I are both glad that the throne of Korebita once again has a responsible occupant."

[Gaius Hermicus]

Jenifu:

“It brings me joy to hear that shrewd hunters remain on this earth. My legacy is secure,” Adeni said in response to Jenifu’s assurances, yet the gleam in their eyes did not appear overjoyed, but rather a combination of cynicism and keen observation as they sized Jenifu up. “But beware the temptations of luxury and comfort, for civilization brings the dulling of the senses, the deafness of sloth - and when the predators arrive, it will be those that keep their blades honed and their eyes open that will survive. Take caution, Starspeaker.” Leaving Jenifu with the final cryptic warning, Adeni walks away from her, the thousands of red stars speckling their body staring back at her like watchful eyes.

The Scrim:

Outside the tent, Medmäsha approaches the two rocky Scrim record-keepers, weaving through the revelers with a horn of drink in either hand. “Why so silent, stone-creatures? Come, have a drink with a hero - for the world is harsh and unforgiving, and one must make merry while injustice is yet at bay!”

Yazaburon:

Adeni took Yazaburon’s compliments graciously. “Your congratulations are well taken, Silver-Hair. I trust that the land shall be better stewarded under one who remembers the olden days, before the Sunset of Heroes. Korebita knives had grown dull and blemmyae wits had rotten away like meat left for the maggots, but I shall return my people to their proper place. And what of the lands of Limdimon? Keep you your spears honed and your hunger sharp?”

[Silent_Interim]

The South Star

"Your optimism is... inspiring. I hope only that it is not misplaced." Lejah bows again. "With your leave, I venture that I have important matters to deal with; where might I leave these acolytes that they may partake and observe the partaking?"

Outside

The two Scrim exchange glances, or at least, presumably that is why they twist around to face each other. One shrugs, the other nods, and both stand.

"I am Patar, this is Iresh. And what hero do we have the honour of sharing a drink with?"

[Epinephrine_Syn]

Scrim

“My optimism indeed is misplaced. That’s the point. If there is one thing I have learned is it that our force of will will bend this world to the shape we desire.” That seeming smile on the expressionless face are wider. “Like a rock in loose sand, my optimism will create its own place. Now…”

The figure waved its hand, and a ripple went into the shelf of books to the side. Giving way, forming a path to another room further into the sanctum.

“I will lead them to the fountain, and if you need to hurry back to the outside I can give you a shortcut, rather than the longer traversal it took to get inside.”


Adeni
Jenifu was silent, and gave Adeni her bow, and pondered his words. She’d been in a mix of hunted and luxury, while playing a hunter’s game. However it was her mother that seemed to be the chessmaster, the true queen upon the board. It made her attempt to ascertain what type of piece she was, and her own value. More importantly, how to stake more of it out for herself.

[Gaius Hermicus]

Outside

The two Scrim exchange glances, or at least, presumably that is why they twist around to face each other. One shrugs, the other nods, and both stand.

"I am Patar, this is Iresh. And what hero do we have the honour of sharing a drink with?"

I am Medmäsha Tänata, born and bred in Galghälani. I marched with the Warshepherd outside the walls of Highnest, and still I bear their crook in memory. I have battled in Troll Country and hunted the greatshark in the boundless sea. I choose my own destiny, as does the great King of Kings that I have the honor of serving.