Heroes of the Fall

[shorewood]

Stories of Salus
Jack the thief

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There wasn't many people present in the graveyard this day. Perhaps a half a dozen if one was generous in the counting. The sky was overcast rain drizzling down just hard enough to chill one to the bone. No holy man or priest was present, no friends or colleagues and no lovers. Only enemies there to bare witness. Some out of respect some out of a false sense of obligation, but all came out of fear that the man they were burying wasn't dead. That if they didn't see his mangled body put to rest he would find a way to come back.

After the deed was done the group dispersed to their respective abodes. Never speaking only sparing a glance or sideways look at each other seeing the same fear in the others eyes which shone from their own. The king was dead and his throne vacant.

Let us follow one of these men in particular the one wearing the tall wide brimmed hat which shielded the gift the king of Salus had given him many years ago. His name was Nadron or Nad as the boys of his youth called him. His boots sank deep into the mud. The stone masons had yet to pave this street thanks to the late king no doubt. Nadron always felt that the king went out of his way to slight Nadron. That feeling had grown into resentment over the years and now with the king dead Nadron could finally do something about it.

The next day Nadron heated up the his forges; he was a goldsmith as every one knew and a counterfeiter which only one man had ever discovered and he was dead. O sure the king let him continue his side business but never let him deal in the quantities Nadron desired. He had told Nadron that if he counterfeited too much it would destabilize the economy or something along that line of nonsense. So today he began smelting coins that were one part gold and two parts lead. A generous ratio one he would never had gotten away with before. Days turned to weeks and Nadron's business boomed. riches that were previously unknown to his wildest dreams became a reality.

Until one night so dark that not even the owls dare fly Nadron awoke to a thump. Before he could even toss off his blankets a blinding pain erupted from the back of his head and unconsciousness claimed him.

Nadron awoke bound in a dark room a single torch flickering in the opposite corner. There were perhaps two dozen people similarly bound both men and women. He was about to ask what had happened when a figure entered the room. He kept to the shadows but his outline was familiar. "That's impossible" Nedron whispered, his voice thick with fear and incredulous "You're dead, I buried you, you can't be alive..."

The shadowy figure moved with a cat like grace as he sat in the only chair in the room. A half rotten contraption that squeaked and moaned at the man's slightest movement. "I am so disappointed with all of you." Said an all to familiar voice. One that he never rose that was the worst part. "I was under the impression that we had an understanding, but it seems to me that I was wrong." the figure paused for a moment, to reach for a mug which sat on a nearby barrel, his chair moaning at every movement. "Madame Cheshire you had claimed that your girls would receive no less than nine tenths of their fee. But when I visited your establishment just yesterday loo and behold you had been so busy finding new ways to squeeze every last penny from those poor lasses that half of them were starving. Mr. Brackdon you are in charge of a protection racket, one that if i recall properly should not be robbing their customers." He continued, only pausing to take a sip from his mug or let his chair give fourth a particularly despairing moan. There were members of all walks of life here, thugs and con men, thieves and even the guild master of clay who had passed several policies to turn apprenticeship into indentured servitude. For poor Nedron the man kicked over the barrel where his mug had once called home. Spilling fourth every gilded trinket or coin he had produced in the past several weeks. "We had talked about this." was all he told him.

Once he was done the man sat in silence staring at the people he had gathered here. Finally he stood up and made his way the door "Remember my name." Was all he said as he lifted a sledge hammer which had rested on the other side of the door and with a mighty blow knocked over one of the support beams to the room. Dirt began pouring down from the ceiling, slowly at first but it quickened to deafen the screams of those trapped within.

Only one word escaped that room to be heard by the city. Only one word was enough to tell them that the king of thieves had reclaimed his throne. and that word was "Jack".

[Ladorak]

Sanctuary
The one in Markien

With Green Morningstar it took Amanda far less then the 9 days Carolinus spoke of. Also aboard the beautiful enigma were Vanara and Warden Thorn. Like all Wardens Thorn was huge and beautiful and bore the bronze sigil of Carolinus upon his forehead, it glinted often in the sunlight as the airship sped to Sanctuary. Thorn was friendly but spoke little unless spoken to. The inherit honesty of the man made it clear he had taken a disliking to Vanara, but once again he had said nothing.

Near nightfall of the second night a large settlement came into view. It caused Thorn to splutter in amazement. 'That's Hub. With a good horse it would have taken me almost a week to get this far. I knew we were going fast, but I hadn't realised...' He looked about him, as if seeing Green Morningstar for the first time, amazement plastered over a huge wondering smile.

'Amazing. Amanda, your vessel is amazing. We'll reach Sanctuary tomorrow for sure.' he stepped toward the rail. 'I am told Haramhold is god of making. Maybe you will find this interesting.
'Most of the settled tribes have adopted the style of Sanctuary in the aspect of their buildings, soon you will see why.
'Not the Alagoth though. Before coming here they were nomadic, they took great pride in the number of their horses, the size of their wagons. The Wheel was their tribal fetish, so these huge wagons had even larger wheels.
Settling has not been easy for them. But Markien cannot sustain such a lifestyle, so for the protection of Carolinus they have become farmers and craftsmen. But they said they would never forget their roots.'

Hub was directly below now. From above Amanda instantly recognised it's shape. The Alagoth had built five walls outward from a central point and they encircled the whole with a great stone circle. It looked exactly like a huge stone wheel. Between the spokes resided the wooden dwellings of the Alagoth . Architecture centered on wooden columns and carved capitalstones was uniform amid the smallest to the largest buildings. Flowers and tees bloomed indoors and out, gardens hanging from timber arboretums in every plaza and large buildings. Patios and agoras were everywhere. The feel of the yurt and the tabernacle of the caravan was somehow maintained even among the looming stone walls. 'They don't have interior rooms, just thick carpets hung on taut cords. Scenes on either side decorate the temporary rooms and dictate the uses of the spaces within. They are a fascinating people. Suddenly there was an air of gloom about Thorn. 'Normally over two thousand people would be below us. Now it's closer to seven hundred cripples and children. Every able body is involved in the war effect. It's almost a ghost town' he sighed 'The war has changed all of us, I fear what this change might mean for the Alagoth.'

He said no more, leaving Amanda to wonder at the strategic value of such a series of walls as Vanara's dispassionate and disturbing eyes loomed down at Hub.

***********

The next day they sighted Sanctuary. The first thing they beheld was a huge marble statue of a stately and powerful looking older man atop a magnificently wrote throne that somehow still seem dwarfed by the one upon it. 'Baz'Auran. He who watches upon us all.' Thorn made a quick hand symbol before the disk on his head 'Carolinus is not god of Markien. We Wardens obey him because we are his hands. The people obey him because he is their lord and protector. But he never allowed us to worship him. He directed our worship to his father, so it is to Baz'Auran that we give our worship. Up close you will see... No best I let you see yourselves.'

Next they saw the Dawn Palace, countless columns of shining white marble and gold shimmering in the morning sun. 'There is our destination. The prophet is eager to speak with you both.'

Soon they saw the rest of Sancutary. Fleets of fishing boats floated idle in a huge dock overlooking a great lake. A great canal ran from the Dawn Palace to the great lake, on it vessels of many shapes also were left idle. The buildings were constructed from marbles of many different hues. Universally great columns with decorated capitalstones were used, holding up ornate roofs that surrounded agoras filled with statues and ornaments.

Soon, when they were closer to the great statue of Baz'Auran, they saw what Thorn had almost told them. Tiny before the great statue was another statue, a lifesize rendering of Carolinus on bent knee before his father. The deliberate counterpoint made him seem absurdly dwarfed.

Soon they docked outside the Dawn Palace, the prophet was already waiting for them.

[Erik Vale]

Two sides of the Coin

They flew over mountains, the up drafts providing for rest, meditation, time to must.

At the moment, he was musing on the similarities of Aramar and himself, at least, on the disk. He merely wondered how much had changed. And how similar Aramar was to Silvar. The name Silvar itself was unusual, one tounge suggested it meant Whistle. A most unusual name to choose.

Then Kalandor could begin to feel the essence of Aramar. Like most of the gods, the essence had changed in some indefinable way. And not just in the 'bigger' sense.

"A cave he is in yes..... The trees thin there, they whisper. We are but an hour out at this pace, make it 10 minutes.

Already Kalandor dipped his head, his body becoming as that of a peregrine eagle. And yet, it was more than that.

Speed became him, as he dived through the canopy of the trees, moving as fast as he could, as fast as he dared, towards the cave that housed Aramar, imprisoned in flame. The very trees moved out of Kalandor's way, more than once, a branch that seemed ready to splatter the two, moved, from a gust of wind that wasn't there a moment ago, or by some other means.

The land cleared out, and Kalandor dropped to the ground, skimming low and slowing, grass brushed the feathers of his breast, and bugs sat in huddled silence, even the most simple minded stopped in awe, as a divinity raced towards his brother.

Then suddenly, it was a wolf that ran towards the cave, the distance becoming shorter and shorter, dips in the ground and branches he simply bounded over, however, despite the mid afternoons sun shining straight into the cave, if grew no lighter, it was almost a black pit.

Slowing, Kalandor pulled up along side, his tongue lolled out between canine teeth, looking like one wrong loll would leave the tongue lying on the ground, in there gleaming brilliance. Subtle movements of his fur, began to convey words to Silvar.

"Was this, how you left it? Are you ready to lead me to his prison?"

[Demidos]

Silvar slowly disentangled himself from Kalandor's shadow, gently but absentmindedly. His eyes were fixed on the cave entrance. "There is no protection until you trigger the wall of fire, which will blaze up the moment you approach. There were protections before but they have been...disposed of. Once you bypass the wall of fire, I doubt you will meet much resistance. After all, the wall is powerful enough to stop anything without a touch of divinity. Even I, a fragment of one such divinity, could not pass it. Anything that could pass such a barrier would find anything else child's play.

He moved closer to the entrance, and let the flames flare into existence. "Your brother waits on the other side. Free him, and I will be in your eternal debt."

[Erik Vale]

For Family
"The gods would do anything for there family. I am ashamed that we as a people, if not individuals, can not do the same under the teachings of Kalandor. I open this night, in remembrance of the Freeing of Aramar, that, even should we not settle this tonight, we as races and as tribes, agree to stay our hands from the horrors of war amongst ourselves.
Priest-Cheiften of the Anara Tribe


"I am, not surprised."

Slowly, Kalandor walked into the cave, every nerve of the wolf form was on edge, just in case. Slowly, the strides became shorter, as Kalandor became himself, with merely eyes of a brilliant yellow being the only change he made. The unnatural darkness receded a short distance from his eyes as he walked in the cave. With less than a meter in vision, his hands slowly bulked, fingernails became claws that would make even the proudest Gryphons be shamed.

Finally, true to the words of Silvar came true, and he stood before the most brilliant white fire one could imagine. Almost all non-divines would be blinded by seeing it from but the corner of there eye, yet Kalandor stood, starring, the flames danced in the reflection of his eyes. He could see things beyond the fire, mere images, half formed thoughts. Suggestions, creeping through the fire.

For some reason, Kalandor shed all forms but his.
He would not taint this with any suggestion for his own protection.
He would not taint this with any suggestion of anything but life.

Kalandor stood before the flame, his dark tan unclothed, his ruddy brown hair shone as if it was but a dirty blond in the fires unrelenting light. Kalandor did not need to look back to know that Silvar stood not behind him. For some reason, an unusual peace and unusual sense of nerves rest within him, and all that was himself glowed. A beacon to match the pyre, with his eyes of the darkest burned umber, shining with the green light that was strangely his.

And he stepped into the pyre.

---

Within the Pye

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"I touch the fire, and it enthrals me.
I look into his light.
Now, through the smoke, he calls to me
To make my way across his flame
The rejoin with him what he lost
To grant him the Light
Or to go down with nary a fight

So I will
Walk through the fire
I will
Walk through the fire

We are brothers
It's what we're to do
So I will
Walk through the fire

I stand here
The point of no return
And I can feel him yearn
So I will
Walk through the fire
And let it burn"

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Yes, it is almost a direct rip from BTVS, I'm not a song writer and this was what was in my head.

A voice in the mind of Kalandor

To say that the smell of cooking flesh filled the cave would be an understatement.
To say the pain of the fire was excruciating, would however, be a lie.
The flame was not a flame in the normal sense, somehow Kalandor knew this was no pyre.
This was Aramar. What his spark had become, somehow separated from him.
The pain in his soul.
And it began to infect his.

Already, Kalandor's dark skin was black, but instead of shying away to think, Kalandor showed how stubborn he was, with but two words.
"I WILL!"
His pain became physical, as he took a second step.
A force was applied, pushing him back.
He had failed his family once.
He would not do it again.

A third step, a face of pain, rage determination was perhaps the only thing that any could see.
A hand reached forward.
There was will.
The hand was filled.

---

That is Mine
"When the gods will something, the world obeys. And the world is used to obeying Kalandor, even if he doesn't tell it what to do, or tell often.
A Chil'R schollar

Somewhere to the south, in the depths of a platua's caverns, where darkness shone, and not even Kalandor could find again. His will made manifest.

Whether or not the being was there, he would feel it and howl in rage.
He couldn't use it to manipulate Kalandor later.

Kalandor felt his staff, an object of focus, the first item he touched and held after he fell.
And it leapt to him.
His hand was filled.

---

Another step
"All the gods can focus their will to do something. Some gods do it better than others. With Kalandor, while he is not the best, he is learned at it. When he can bother to focus, that is."
Orc Warrior

His hand was filled.

His staff, only wood, was reduced to a charred crisp.
But it was his will, an idea, his essence. And it remained there.
In two hands, the stick became his staff, and he walked.
A light shone from the staves head, as it became as it was, a simple shaped branch of dark wood, with its own burns at the base.

The light was his will.

Another step.
Another.

The flame was but millimetres thick in front of him, as one last thing, assailed him.

---

In Dreams
"Dreams are powerful. Don't ignore them. Even the compleately blind and uninitiated can gain meaning from them, even see the future from them. They can guide us as we walk on this tapestry. Remember that."
A Seeress.

In both the minds of Kalandor and Aramar, a memory filled thier heads, as Kalandor took the final step.

It was of the two when hunting as children.
OR more, Kalandor had found Aramar hunting.

"What are you doing here!?"
"You know what. What are you doing here in the forest."
"I... Don't have to tell you."
"But what if I could help.

The memory flashed, they were moments forward, walking through a forest trail, lain down by migrations of deer and boar.

"You won't tell anyone?"
"Of course."
"Even if it sounds dumb."
"The way you hide it it almost does already. Spill"
"Well, last week a Gutha got the best of me when I tried travelling like you. I just wanted to, you know. One up it."
"A noble goal for a noble man. Perhaps I could show you where it was, if you promise to be careful."
"On the hopes of a gentle landing."
"Come with me."

Moments flashed by. A battle, surprising Kalandor. The two stood panting, Kalandor from keeping himself out of it, Aramar from fighting. The were on the lip of a cave. Their foe, much like a goblin, lay dead on the cold stony ground bellow them.

"Why did we do this again."

Time jumped.

"It's who I am."
"I see.... Just, promise me you will be careful. Be careful like I try to be when I travel."
"I.. I will Brother... I will.... I promise... On the hopes for a safe landing."

The vision faded, Kalandor took the final step, and a hand rested on Aramar's chest, searing it with white light.

---

Awake

"Hark, and his eyes opened with light from beyond. The stars dimmed, shamed in their beauties lack. Muscles that had waited in a time that was at once days and years rippled. All the world rejoiced at his rise. Look to the light. Heroes will rise as he did rise."
The Book of Heroes: The tale of Manikarus's Awakening

The eyes of Aramar opened, starring into the eyes of Kalandor, whose flesh again was clothed, the fire was now merely dancing lights around them, the illusionary thickness was but a few centimetres despite seeming to be of a years walk. Kalandor's hand was on Aramar's chest, as they stared into each others eyes.

Finally, Kalandor broke the reverie, speaking simply and profoundly, with words of sorrow, the arm upon Armar's chest, there to protect himself, and to embrace his brother, but with no set course, just a splayed hand upon his chest.
"Well brother.... Were you more careful?"

[hi-mi-tsu]

Avyra and The Weaver, Avyra's Home

"Not so terribly inconvenient, brother mine..." The goddess's words were gently teasing, at The Weaver's observation that truly dying would be a burden; when one's sister was the Goddess of Death, there were certain things that were made...easier, by the fact. She fell silent, though, when his arms wound around her, when he began to babble about their siblings; her own arms came around him, strong and comforting, and she cradled him close as he began to weep.

"Shhh..." Avyra rubbed his back, gently, as she'd done when they were children, as she would always do. It did not matter that they were gods, that she controlled the world of death as he controlled the world of dreams. He was her brother.

"Everything will be all right...I promise. Everyone is figuring out who they are... what they are. But everything will be all right. We will learn, and grow, and come together...and we will become strong. You see? You came to find me, didn't you? And it seems as though the others are finding each other as well. So everything will be all right, in the end."

Offering her brother a gentle smile, she patted his shoulder.

"Now. Are you hungry...?"

[THEChanger]

The House of Death-Avyra and The Weaver

The Weaver sniffled, and wiped his eyes. "Yes, I think I am." The Weaver shook himself a little, to bring his mind back into focus. Then he began to laugh. "Actually, I know I am. I haven't eaten a thing since we fell!" Standing from the bed, The Weaver looked about the cottage. "This is a rather nice place, Avyra. Did you build this?"

[TheDarkDM]

The Shadows Form a Web

Elanna's look of surprise was brief, the wide eyed questioning of power challenged as Khalen-Het's pillar of fire erupted from the smoky air. Her crimson eyes searched his face as he explained the laws of his trap, but as he asked his first question they closed to crimson slits once again, and she ran nails the color of blood over his chest.

"Warnings, Khalen-Het? Do you think I fear to speak the truth? You were summoned because I am lonely, brother - only in the presence of my immortal siblings do I feel the hole within me start to fill. And only here are we all safe."

As Elanna answered, it seemed she was unaware or unconcerned with Fayruz's tortured stammering, a slight twinkle in Elanna's eye the only sign she heard anything at all. Her lips pursed in a smile, but before she could ask her question Sonata laughed. It was the tinkling of bells in the winter air, the clean toll of uncorrupted joy, and Elanna spun towards it as it rang through the shadows of Uluuvatar. Khalen-Het saw her fingers clench as though grasping some invisible sphere, and the shadows pressed closer against Sonata. Yet Fayruz's twin would not be denied, and she rose in defiance after each crashing pulse of soporific darkness. The tide of corporeal shade drew back for a fourth time, but as it rushed forwards to consume Sonata it shattered against the first note of her song.

Elanna stood, enraptured and enraged, as Sonata and Fayruz wove their songs together. Tears streamed down her face, whether of rage or sorrow or pain Khalen-Het could not say, and despite all its defiance the song continued unchallenged. It was a primal sound, the seismic shift of divine powers warring, and as the sister gods reached a crescendo the fog over Fayruz's mind lifted, and she once again knew her name. Elanna staggered back as though she had been struck, and when she regained her feet her eyes blazed like stars.

As Sonata and Fayruz stood wrapped in each other's arms, the very walls of Uluuvatar began to tremble. A cold wind was birthed from the empty dark, brushing silken curtain's against Sonata's shoulders, silken curtains that gave a hiss, and wrapped about her neck, suddenly harder than steel. The sinuous garrote tore Sonata from Fayruz's arms, holding her aloft and choking out her song. The light of Fayruz's liberation was devoured by a rising tide of purple lit stormclouds, and Elanna's voice began to thunder from all around.

YOU WILL NOT TAKE HER FROM ME! I WILL NOT BE ALONE!

Ever more strands of silk erupted from the ether, constricting Sonata's arms and legs, pulling them apart until she looked like nothing more than a fly caught in a web. She opened her mouth to speak, only for another silken strand to gag her mouth.

BIND HER

As one, the statuesque warriors ringing Elanna's bower began to move, her four Nightmare Princes converging on Fayruz. A passing shadow struck them, and suddenly they were armed with chains and manacles of sparkling gold, a royal prison with which to hold Fayruz until she could be brought back into the fold. And as the bonds grew closer, the echo of Sonata's song twisted to something else...

Come now, come now my darling
Lay ye down to sleep
For peace is found through comfort
Comfort found through rest

Come now, come now my darling
Drape yourself upon
The bower of your goddess
The bower of your love

There is no sense in fighting
In struggle or contempt
For pain flows forth from freedom
Freedom from my will

You've lived within a lie
It cruelly snagged and snared you
To think that man or god or beast
Must act and act alone

You've flown blind in the night
No greater light to guide you
But now you're in mine eye
No greater light could be

There is no sense in fighting
In struggle or contempt
For pain flows forth from freedom
Freedom from my will

Your heart may rage against you
You heart may lead astray
But silence it and gone shall be
All terror, fear, and doubt

For servitude is simple
To be kept is divine
And when your will is not your own
No pain can mar your mind

There is no sense in fighting
In struggle or contempt
For pain flows forth from freedom
Freedom from my will

For light above can sear you
And dark below can blind
But safe within my twilight
True ecstasy you'll find

So, lay down, my darling
Lay ye down to rest
Peace is found through comfort
Comfort found through me

Within the pillar of fire, Elanna smiled, turning to jab a painted talon into Khalen-Het's chest. Her words were a sinuous poison, seething through the air.

"Now I pose a question to you, brother. Why did you abandon me upon the Disk?"

Chaos Upon the Ocean

Veldimarus' massive head tilted as Jongo made his offer, and the child-god could swear he saw the shadow of a smile in the dragon's slight parting of teeth. Steam exploded from Veldimarus' nostrils in a snort, and the rumble in his throat was that of waves crashing against a cliff.

"Your offer is intriguing, Chaos-born, but you misunderstand our nature. My children range far and wide across the open ocean, and no simple sea is fit to contain me. But I am not unsympathetic to the plight that may assail your children - my Flight shall stand ready to defend those you call the Jongoscion, should they seek our aid."

Another rumble, further back in Veldimarus's throat, and his head tilted forwards ever more.

"And if we are to be friends, I would know how you intend to combat Kraken."

The Halls of the Titans

It took some time, but eventually the final order was given, the last ally seen to, and Carolinus ka Baz'Auran descended from Wardstone to face the Titans once again. Seeing his return, Khar Eltraya bowed her head, shifting in her saddle to allow Carolinus to take a seat before her.

"The way is long, my lord, and treacherous. A razorscale is the only safe way to travel in haste across our domain."

Reaching down, the Khar pulled Carolinus into the saddle before cracking the reins sharply. With an ululating shriek, the hunched lizard reared and turned, breaking into a run towards the very wall of the cliff. For a moment, it seemed they might collide, before the beast gathered it's legs beneath it and leapt forward. Dull claws carved into the solid rock, and the razorscale began to climb as fast as it had run, showering debris upon the army below. Eventually, they crested the lip of the bounding mountain, and their mount broke into a loping sprint.

For the first hour, it was one of the least comfortable experiences of Carolinus' life. The lizard moved in a way that seemed wholly unnatural, every surprise undulation or twitch sending the son of Baz'Auran rocking in his precarious seat. Yet a god is not long discomfited, and Carolinus soon grasped the rhythm of the beast, and how Khar Eltraya leaned into and pushed off against its alien motion. By the time Carolinus grew comfortable enough to truly examine his surroundings, they were far from Wardstone.

The journey continued in silence, hours turning into days as the seemingly tireless mount scrabbled up mountainsides and survived falls that would have killed a horse. They did not stop for eat, or drink, Eltraya's duty to deliver Carolinus to her master superseding her comfort. For its part, the razorscale seemed none the worse for wear, even after two days of constant motion, and Carolinus began to suspect some magic at work in its prodigious stamina. Throughout the journey, they never left the mountains, instead scaling the mightiest peaks on the continent as they cut a straight line north. By the third day, the temperature had gone from the comfortable warmth of Markien to a cutting chill, and the sky was obscured by swirling clouds of white mist. The first blizzard came on the sixth day, forcing the razorscale into a deep valley where it drank from a flask taken from a saddlebag. Atop the beast, Carolinus began to feel a heat radiating from its scales, the Titan concoction allowing the cold blooded creature to survive the brutal conditions. This happened five more times before they began to descend, towards a bitter taiga of rolling hills broken by a single, craggy range. As they left the stone and the razorscale began to cut furrows in the permafrost, Khar Eltraya spoke for the first time.

"This is the border of our prison, this desolate plain of shattered mountains. I am one of the first of my people to cross it since our banishment and live."

It was not long after that before they saw the first skeleton, bleached crystalline white in the sunlight. It's mouth was open in a silent cry, one hand reached towards the southern horizon, grasping desperately at the air. Soon, more appeared on the horizon, and as they moved closer to the jagged peaks at the end of the continent they became surrounded by a garden of crystal bones, the remnants of hundreds of generations of Titans that had attempted to defy the curse of Baz'Auran. Then, as suddenly as they'd appeared, the skeletons disappeared from the horizon, and they crossed the last miles to the mountains surrounded by nothing but gleaming frost.

"None of those who sought to escape were weak - all made it at least this far before being struck down."

Finally, the Titan's prison loomed before them, a sorry, broken mountain in a sorry, broken range. Compared to the peaks surrounding Markien, it was a meager thing, but there was nothing meager about the gaping hole in its side. As the sunlight spilled through, Carolinus saw a great stone door left open against the right wall, bearing the runes of the White City and a central figure that could only have been Baz'Auran. Dismounting, Khar Eltraya stepped over the threshold.

"Come, lord Carolinus. I shall present you to my master."

A Noble Audience

As Kalandor withdrew from Aramar, his brother's soul reunited with its body, the sound of slow applause filled the chamber. Both gods searched the cavern for the source of the sound, only to see a figure reclining upon a ledge above the entrance, clapping its hands in a languid rhythm. It appeared to be male, yet its skin was a bright, polished grey, like old wood and ashes somehow fused together. In contrast, its clothes were regal, a suit of green and gold that shimmered even in the dimmest light, including a golden cape that now draped over the entrance like a curtain. Leaning beside the figure was a spear, its shaft the same polished grey as its master's skin, its blade two feet of shimmering quicksilver. But strangest of all was the figure's face - its upper face was shrouded by a simple green mask that did little to hide eyes that were a field of stars.

"Well done indeed, oh traveler supreme. You've plucked your umbral brother from the confines of his dream. You've unified his spirit, and mended up his mind, yet I can't help but wonder if he'd have helped in kind."

The figure stood, so fluidly it seemed not to have bones at all, and vaulted off the ledge with the butt of its spear, trailing a shimmering golden cloud behind it as it landed soundlessly behind them.

"Would night come to the road's aid, if the road knew not the way? Or would the dark withdraw, and in its darkness stay? You've taken more than one step, along the hero's road. But the way of heroes is long and hard - you may buckle 'neath the load. So answer me this one thing, I the Lord of Weal and Woe - were you shown all destinations, down which road would you go? Would you walk the paths of power, and never mind the cost? Or take the bitter hard road, and grapple with the loss? Perhaps you'd go down neither, and simply ride the wave. But if you all go that way, there'll be no world to save. So tell me now, ye brothers, and quickly tell me true - our hearts all come from Baz'Auran, which heart was placed in you?"

[Gengy]

Partly Cloudy With a Slight Chance of Jongo

Jongo grinned at Veldimarus's answering smirk. It wasn't what she had been hoping for, but this would do. And then the question.

"How do I intend to fight the Kraken?"

It was Jongo's nature to ask bothersome questions.

Answering them? Sometimes not always possible. But still, he would try.

Though it may have been rude, Jongo looked away from Veldimarus, and up into the sky. Lost in thought for a second, the silence was beginning to become palpable, until finally, Jongo spoke. Her voice was tired, and uncertain, and the energy that was usually zinging through every fiber of Jongo's being seemed a bit dimmed.

"I've had a little bit to think about that. For what ever reason, the Kraken - and I still think that's a funny thing to call something - and I are just not going to get along. It didn't help that it attacked an island that I rather liked. Nice sheep there." Jongo leaned back, sitting on the edge of the cloud being called Larree. A part of the cloud rose up to meet Jongo's back as he reclined.

"But back to the question. The simplest answer is: I haven't figured it all out yet. Or rather, I have but I haven't figured out how I'm going to make what I've figured out work. Let me explain with a story. I'm not as good at telling them as my youngest brother Kalandor, but I feel this one is appropriate, and answers the question... Before I being, though..."

Jongo let her senses stretch out, and began the call. For miles and miles, the water would carry his message. Dolphins. I need Dolphins. Come, change the world.

"Now... the story. It was back when I was young, and my Father had just had two more children of his own..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"He's so... so... insufferable!" Jongo, much younger, was taking out her displeasure on a unsuspecting practice dummy in the Training Grounds. Bounding back and forth, hands striking the matted straw, Jongo was distracted by his own thoughts.

"Focus, Jongo. That was sloppy." Across the grounds, Eliat seemed to be able to see and know everything that was going on in his little corner of the White City, and nothing could escape the Spirit's eyes.

Even if he was a hundred paces away, busy with what Jongo really wanted to hit.

"Shirvan. Even the little toucan's name is aggravating. Why does Father insist on creating such a bothersome sibling, brother? Oh, don't get me wrong, Dasque is all right. Quite the lakespittle. I like her. But..." Jongo paused in beating up the unsuspecting dummy, and looked over at Faden, standing in front of another target dummy.

Giving a noncommittal grunt, Jongo wasn't even sure if Faden was even listening. It seemed to Jongo that Faden was busy studying the straw, more than hitting it, as through trying to figure out a way to...

And then Faden made one strike. Just one.

The straw fell apart, to the ground. Jongo stared in amazement, as the training dummy was suddenly transformed into a pole sticking out of the ground with a pile of straw at it's feet.

"What... what did you do, Duckie?" Jongo knew his brother more enjoyed Tezzerin's lectures then Elliat's more... direct... methods, and so Jongo had never seen Faden hit with such force.

Faden turned, and Jongo saw on her oldest brother's face the smile that told the world Faden was smarter than anyone, whether they liked it or not. Holding up the hand that had punched the training dummy, Faden was about to say something when Eliat was suddenly there.

"Faden. I told you to hit the dummy. Not dismantle it."

Looking at Faden's hand, Jongo suddenly understood. In the hand was the string that had held the straw onto the training dummy. Faden hadn't punched the thing apart. He had pulled at the tiniest piece, and in one swift movement, it had fallen apart all on it's own.

Jongo began to giggle. Faden stood, contrite in the face of the First Spirit of War.

"Still. Good punch. You are free to go. Jongo. You? Stay."

"But Elllliiiiat..." There was a familiar feeling against Jongo's skull, as Eliat shut up Jongo's complaint with a single finger to the back of the head.

"No complaints. Come. Learn something for once. SHIRVAN. Come here." Looking at the newly born godling, Jongo sighed as the source of all her frustration walked over. So young, yet so sure that the White City was made as a place for Shirvan to stand on. He even walked with such all consuming confidence.

"DASQUE. You too." Dasque. Now there was a nice girl. Not scary like Avyra, smart as a whip, and always willing to listen. A listen defensive about Shirvan, though. It probably had to do with how they were created at nearly the same second.

Once all three were gathered before him, Eliat looked at them. Until a short time ago, Eliat hadn't had much to work with. Jongo, Faden, Avyra, and Rodney all seemed to prefer Tezzerin to the Training Grounds. But Shirvan and Dasque appeared to be slightly more apt with combat.

"First one to give me a clean hit gets to leave. The other two will be stuck here till I say otherwise."

"I'm sorry, Eliat, but... do you mean we are to attack you?"

"Yes. First clean hit on me, and you go."

"But..." Jongo was about to object, but Shirvan was already moving.

The little snit was using Jongo's conversation to try and make an opening. Jongo frowned, but didn't move. He knew better.

Shirvan, it seemed, was still too young. And enjoyed the taste of floor too much.

Well, enjoyed or not, Shirvan was soon on the ground. Eliat stood over him.

Eliat was very careful, and the Spirit of War had one arm behind his back. The other was out in a defensive posture, and one finger was extruded.

"As I was saying, Eliat..." Jongo tried once more to speak, but Shirvan rolled from the floor and was charging again.

Watching carefully, Jongo could see Eliat move his single finger, batting away all of Shirvan's strikes as a... well, Spirit of War would do to a child. It was laughable, but... Shirvan continued to try.

Something to my little brother after all, it would seem. Insufferable Toucan though he is. Jongo turned to tell Dasque just that, knowing she would appreciate hearing it, only to find she wasn't there either.

Turning back to the fight, now both Shirvan and Dasque were attacking Eliat together. The Spirit of War still held them at bay with a single finger, but it was getting harder to watch it's movements as the finger moved much more quickly.

Jongo sighed. Not a one of them would be able to touch Eliat this way. The children would tire before Eliat did. Jongo began to wonder what the kitchen would have for dinner tonight... if they could ever leave the Training Grounds.

Left, Right, Left, Right, Backstep, Backstep, Left, Right, Left, Right, Backstep, Backstep. Eliat moved, and Shirvan and Dasque followed, still trying to land a single punch.

Wait.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Backstep.

Backstep.

A pattern. Eliat was moving and blocking in a pattern. Did Shirvan or Dasque see it?

No, it looked like they were busy just trying to not get in each other's way. They'd see it soon, though. It was just too obvious.

Why weren't they seeing it? Faden would have. Even Rodney would have by now. But no, being newborns, they only saw the goal, and not how to reach it.

Jongo moved and shifted to where she was taller than either Dasque or Shirvan. With longer arms, Jongo jumped into their assault, pushing them back gently.

"My turn!"

With longer arms, Jongo threw punch after punch towards Eliat's way. Left, Right, Left, Right, Backstep, Backstep. The pattern was still there. Jongo grinned at Eliat, and the Spirit of War just waited for more. Again, they exchanged blows. Again, the pattern.

"Ah! I see it."

"Me too. May we jump in, Jongo?"

"Be." Left.

"My." Right.

"Guest." Left.

Shirvan exploded from where he had been standing, and Dasque followed suit. With all three of them attacking, and all three of them knowing the pattern, Eliat was smiling, moving him arm and finger at an insane pace.

"Yes. Yes. Good! But now I have to change it up." Eliat suddenly changed his stance, and Jongo could tell he was going on the offensive. Shirvan and Dasque didn't seem to be aware.

Too young. Too young. They need to learn. But Eliat was moving too quickly. There was too much force. And he was coming at Shirvan.

What is Eliat thinking? That kind of thrust, on someone newly born? Maybe in a month, Shirvan would be ready for it, but now? Jongo acted without thinking, and jumped in front of Shirvan.

"Hey! Out of the way!" Jongo ignored Shirvan's shout, and countered the painful thrust in the tricky way that Eliat had taught her long ago.

Jump and grab and twist.

Jongo now held Eliat's wrist in one hand, and another was striking the Spirit of War's chest. A clean hit.

"That could have hurt him, Eliat."

"No." Eliat stared at Jongo. "It couldn't."

Simple words, but with Eliat staring down at him, Jongo understood.

It couldn't have hurt Shirvan. Not with Jongo here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I learned many things that day, Lord Veldimarus." Swinging her legs back and forth, as they dangled over the cloud's edge, Jongo looked at the large form of the Father of the Flight of Water.

"I don't know if it was the same lesson that my siblings learned that day, but what I took from it was this; first, my brother Shirvan may be insufferable, but he is my brother Shirvan. Second, we only managed to pressure our teacher when we all worked together. And third... From Faden I learned that if I understand something well enough, I can do more than just hit it."

Jongo grinned at Veldimarus.

"How do I plan to combat the Kraken? Knowledge. Knowledge and also the one thing it doesn't have..."

She could feel them. Hundreds of them. They were in the waters below, surrounding the Dragon. They soon were jumping out of the water, and squeaking in excitement and joy. Jongo looked down at all the Dolphins, and then back to Veldimarus.

"Family."

[Raz_Fox]

Love and loss. Lust and longing. Life and lies. Fayruz felt lost, for a moment, not seeing what was, nor what the mists of Uluuvatar told her to see, but what she could understand.

Elanna. Lonely. Not understanding love. Had anyone ever...? She remembered lusts, depravities, and fleeting pleasures, but there had been no love there, no sacrifice, no truth. She stood on a pedestal and looked down, she couldn't understand that pedestals were lonely-

Sonata. Brash, laughing, sweet. Walks in those beautiful gardens together. There was so much for them to speak of, so much to understand, how they'd both changed-

And Fayruz. Fayruz who was beautiful and prized, bereft of clinging veils or entrapping fineries, stripped to her core. And her core was so weary, and all she wanted was to help everyone. Why didn't they want it? Why did Elanna think she had to enchant her sister to make her stay? Why couldn't her siblings learn to be servants and kings?

When had Elanna ever been forced to her knees? Had she ever then chosen to kneel? When had Elanna ever chosen to smile for a mother, and to take on her pain as she gave birth? When had Elanna ever risked death for the sake of others? When had Elanna - cloying, selfish, lonely Elanna - ever given of herself so that others could have happiness?

Did she even understand that Fayruz would have given her love without ensorcellment?

She was Fayruz. And her sister needed to be led out of her cramped, dark rooms, to see the sun and see the moon.

The sound of gold scraping against gold brought her back to the moment. There was only a moment to make a choice - run to Elanna, or fight the Princes? Too late, they were already upon her, holding the golden chains for her.

In that moment, she wrapped her hands around the crystal hanging around her neck, and

fayheran sweat and heat and blood and laughter and music dancing muscles burning and family brothers sisters parents children all together and love and adoration for a goddess who loved them and walked among them and took their pain to be hers and never turned away those who begged her help

we treated her like a slave and she forgave us
we made her bleed and she closed our wounds
we laughed at her and she still loved us
we erected the tents and she worked beneath the sun with us
hear us, o maiden
river sun song
may our strength given willingly be yours
we love you
please love us still


And she held out her hands and her sigh was golden, and she said, "You may not touch me. The prayers of the Fayheran stand between us. And they will not permit their maiden to be chained again." And she smiled, and laughed, and began to walk towards Sonata, intent on freeing her sister and keeping her safe.

Spoiler

Show

1 minor act spent on the ward.

[Erik Vale]

The Road less Travelled
"I took the Road less travelled, meaning to travel all, but I knew in my heart, that I would only travel this one. And in the end, this is the one that shall make all the difference"
"I took the path less travelled/And died of starvation when lost."
Various


Kalandor's surprise at the figure was mastered quickly, spoken with his own repertoire.

"Does the lion worry whether its pride will aid it, as it walks through paths darkened, where danger could at once beset upon it. Does the Gazelle, worry about the safety of the heard. I am one of the Children of Twilight, and worry not as a walk upon the road, for upon it I know of the danger, and stand with arms open to revive and to grant. I walk upon the trail, knowing that none can see it bar those too mighty to think I am a threat, and of those none do stand"

The but of his staff struck the caves floor once, with a horde of echoes following.

"Of paths I walk I shall chose them as I walk, but of aid I do give freely, uncaring of the pain, and of power I do take knowing what the cost may be, and standing aside from only that of ruin, of which I do know, having seen places where the bones of the world have been lain bare for things before, now long gone. My heart is of that of the Kind stranger, And yours, man of the shadows who would come to us being of discord and annoyance, instead of coming upon us when peace fills, what light doth suffuse what exists of your soul, other than that of theatrics and childish games.

[Ladorak]

The Halls of the Titans

Through the many miles of the deadlines the mire of Carolinus had increasingly darkened. Doubt plagued him at night, during the day he lost himself in the steady rhythm of the Razorback, sweet oblivion during all it good to blind him to the countless dead and to the blackened land.

He refused to believe Baz'Auran could do such a thing. He chose to believe Titan folklore had perverted the true story, it took an effort of will on no few occlusions to force the doubt from his mind. Doubt was incompatible with his vows, it's every instant a betrayal of his love for Cireo.

He wondered at the huge Titan arch, but said nothing. He nodded to Eltraya and likewise stepped into the gateway 'Thank you noble Khar.'

[The Succubus]

A Moment of Clarity

Khalen listened to Elanna's reply and weighed it in his mind. She had been lost for years after that fateful day and whatever had taken her had not been kind or caring. He had little doubt that her answer was true but felt there was considerably more to it than that...

As if to confirm his suspicions, she the silken curtains of Elanna's boudoir suddenly come alive and ensnare Sonata and four lumbering shapes marched slowly towards Fayruz, carrying golden chains and manacles. No, he thought, this was far more than about simple loneliness. A puzzled flicker crossed his brow for a second as he observed the figures converging on his sister...

Four of them.

Four...

Yet before Khalen could examine this piece of the puzzle more closely, Elanna spoke again, her painted fingernail digging gently into his chest.

"Now I pose a question to you, brother. Why did you abandon me upon the Disk?"

Everyone has a question that lurks inside them. A question hardwired straight to feelings of guilt and shame. A question that threatens to shatter their view of the world. Their view of themselves. A question they've asked themselves time and again. How they would answer it.

Elanna's words cut through all of Khalen's defences, stripping away the morose, taciturn nature, the Spark of Law, leaving behind the rather bookish loner Khalen had long thought lost to the mists of time. Her emphasis on the word "brother" served to convey her feelings of resentment to the person she had once cared for and adored above all others.

"I did not choose to abandon you on the Disk," he replied and in answer to his words, there was another screech of metal and the aperture in the centre of the pillar of fire opened wider.

Elanna glared at him.

There was always a choice.

Khalen bowed his head and the God of Law, the God of Justice, shed a tear. "I ran. I was a coward. I could have chosen to fight back, to go with you into the unknown. Instead, I fled for the White City, hoping that someone would be able to help me, that Baz'Auran would help me, that ANYONE would help me and alleviate the guilt of my cowardice.

It was not to be.

Baz'Auran said he was unable to help me, yet even now I wonder whether he deliberately withheld his aid for my defiance of his laws and our journey to the unfinished world beneath us."

Khalen's words became more rapid, as though some damn had broken within him. "I spent years in that accursed tower in that accursed City, looking through every book I could find, trying to find some way I could rescue you, to UNDO THE DAMAGE I HAD DONE!"

He raised his head and looked deeply into his sister's eyes. "I wish with all my heart and soul that we had never gone to the Disk. You spent years alone because of me and a part of me died when I lost you."

"What happened to you, dearest Elanna?"

[Demidos]

His hand trembled as he brought it up before his eyes. He turned it sideways, and saw the translucent edges. Slowly, Aramar looked around, his eyes taking in the clearing. His eyes watered at the bright lights and colors surrounding him. He took a staggering step, and then another. Squinting, his eyes wandered the clearing, stopping at the two dark forms that stood before him. He took another step, and saw who they were. First he turned to Kalandor.

"Thank you," he rasped, his voice barely audible. He shook his head, and tried again.

"Thank you" he repeated. His voice was weak, but it rapidly gained strength as his body threw off the hundred year slumber it had been chained to.

"It was a dark place in which you found me. You risked much venturing that deep. Everywhere, the darkness grew. It was threatening to overwhelm me. Even my vision couldn´t pierce it..."

His enfeebled thanks were interrupted by the arrival of the other. Aramar turned, his eyes still having trouble focusing on the person before them. Nonetheless, he spoke out in a strong voice, one that quickly grew in strength and power as he steadied himself.

"You speak, and yet I know you not. Yet you speak as if you know me. And I say to you: I am a child of the shadows, this is true. The darkness serves hunters many. Darkness inspires fear and terror. But it also can protect. It can shield and hide, and protect from itself. Even where the light cannot go, there will it be. And what is more, the darkness is a part of me. Not the whole. I am the god of the hunt. Wolves hunt in packs because they follow my family´s unity. Lions hunt in prides. Even Rooks, vicious and stupid as they are, mob their foes to make themselves stronger. Family is all. Where is yours?"

As Aramar finishes his imapssioned address, he moves forward with Silvar, protecting Kalandor´s sides.

[shorewood]

Spoiler

Show

Sanctuary
The one in Markien

With Green Morningstar it took Amanda far less then the 9 days Carolinus spoke of. Also aboard the beautiful enigma were Vanara and Warden Thorn. Like all Wardens Thorn was huge and beautiful and bore the bronze sigil of Carolinus upon his forehead, it glinted often in the sunlight as the airship sped to Sanctuary. Thorn was friendly but spoke little unless spoken to. The inherit honesty of the man made it clear he had taken a disliking to Vanara, but once again he had said nothing.

Near nightfall of the second night a large settlement came into view. It caused Thorn to splutter in amazement. 'That's Hub. With a good horse it would have taken me almost a week to get this far. I knew we were going fast, but I hadn't realised...' He looked about him, as if seeing Green Morningstar for the first time, amazement plastered over a huge wondering smile.

'Amazing. Amanda, your vessel is amazing. We'll reach Sanctuary tomorrow for sure.' he stepped toward the rail. 'I am told Haramhold is god of making. Maybe you will find this interesting.
'Most of the settled tribes have adopted the style of Sanctuary in the aspect of their buildings, soon you will see why.
'Not the Alagoth though. Before coming here they were nomadic, they took great pride in the number of their horses, the size of their wagons. The Wheel was their tribal fetish, so these huge wagons had even larger wheels.
Settling has not been easy for them. But Markien cannot sustain such a lifestyle, so for the protection of Carolinus they have become farmers and craftsmen. But they said they would never forget their roots.'

Hub was directly below now. From above Amanda instantly recognised it's shape. The Alagoth had built five walls outward from a central point and they encircled the whole with a great stone circle. It looked exactly like a huge stone wheel. Between the spokes resided the wooden dwellings of the Alagoth . Architecture centered on wooden columns and carved capitalstones was uniform amid the smallest to the largest buildings. Flowers and tees bloomed indoors and out, gardens hanging from timber arboretums in every plaza and large buildings. Patios and agoras were everywhere. The feel of the yurt and the tabernacle of the caravan was somehow maintained even among the looming stone walls. 'They don't have interior rooms, just thick carpets hung on taut cords. Scenes on either side decorate the temporary rooms and dictate the uses of the spaces within. They are a fascinating people. Suddenly there was an air of gloom about Thorn. 'Normally over two thousand people would be below us. Now it's closer to seven hundred cripples and children. Every able body is involved in the war effect. It's almost a ghost town' he sighed 'The war has changed all of us, I fear what this change might mean for the Alagoth.'

He said no more, leaving Amanda to wonder at the strategic value of such a series of walls as Vanara's dispassionate and disturbing eyes loomed down at Hub.

***********

The next day they sighted Sanctuary. The first thing they beheld was a huge marble statue of a stately and powerful looking older man atop a magnificently wrote throne that somehow still seem dwarfed by the one upon it. 'Baz'Auran. He who watches upon us all.' Thorn made a quick hand symbol before the disk on his head 'Carolinus is not god of Markien. We Wardens obey him because we are his hands. The people obey him because he is their lord and protector. But he never allowed us to worship him. He directed our worship to his father, so it is to Baz'Auran that we give our worship. Up close you will see... No best I let you see yourselves.'

Next they saw the Dawn Palace, countless columns of shining white marble and gold shimmering in the morning sun. 'There is our destination. The prophet is eager to speak with you both.'

Soon they saw the rest of Sancutary. Fleets of fishing boats floated idle in a huge dock overlooking a great lake. A great canal ran from the Dawn Palace to the great lake, on it vessels of many shapes also were left idle. The buildings were constructed from marbles of many different hues. Universally great columns with decorated capitalstones were used, holding up ornate roofs that surrounded agoras filled with statues and ornaments.

Soon, when they were closer to the great statue of Baz'Auran, they saw what Thorn had almost told them. Tiny before the great statue was another statue, a lifesize rendering of Carolinus on bent knee before his father. The deliberate counterpoint made him seem absurdly dwarfed.

Soon they docked outside the Dawn Palace, the prophet was already waiting for them.

Amanda

It didn't take long for the cargo to be unloaded and the steel armor and weapons distributed properly. Getting the men settled took a little longer but the warriors of the Markien where efficient.

Warden Thorn Invited me to visit their oracle, and since there wasn't much to do here but wait for Carolinus to return from parleying with the titans I agreed. Vanara came with us a silent figure who spent much of her time gazing at the ground passing below us. It was hard to strike up a conversation with Warden Thorn also and so the trip passed mostly in silence.

As we approached the temple the warden spoke quiete eargerly of the people settled here and spoke 'Baz'Auran. He who watches upon us all.' Thorn made a quick hand symbol before the disk on his head 'Carolinus is not god of Markien. We Wardens obey him because we are his hands. The people obey him because he is their lord and protector. But he never allowed us to worship him. He directed our worship to his father, so it is to Baz'Auran that we give our worship. Up close you will see... No best I let you see yourselves.'

The great statue of and temple almost took Amanda's breath away. It was a magnificent sight. "Haramhold does not speak often of Baz'Auran or the white city. It saddens him greatly and as such much of the history of the white city is unknown to me. Would you teach me what knowledge Carolinus has passed on to the wardens? I am dreadfully curious." I asked as Green MorningStar began its docking decent.

[Gengy]

Jongoscion

The funny thing about being Eldest was that Jongo, for all her years, never did much while in the White City. Well, nothing that anyone else would consider "productive". Jongo learned everything that he could about everything, and forgot most of it, only to remember it later. She knew the inner workings and twists and turns through the White City better than anyone save Baz'Auran and maybe a few Carry Spirits designed to move things from place to place, like Nyyck. Jongo would constantly marvel at the things that Haramhold and Rumel crafted, and enjoyed taking them apart to see if he could do the same as them... which she couldn't, but it was fun trying.

The things that Rodney could make with needle and thread were extraordinary, and Jongo would watch sometimes. Flower and Iris would dance and sing from Dusk to Dawn, and Jongo would watch sometimes. Faden... could do things with seemingly nothing at all, and Jongo would watch sometimes. Llassar. The things that Llassar could do with just a few hours in a kitchen were beyond amazing, and Jongo would watch sometimes. Frellon, Shirvan, Dasque, Contragh... they could all make a sword fly, or just make a sword like Haramhold would. And Jongo would watch sometimes.

Almost all of his siblings had, at one time or another, created something, and Jongo would watch them do it. Even if they didn't always like her there, Jongo watched.

Baz'Auran, sitting upon His mighty dias, would move a finger, and the Crystal Ceiling would spin and twirl till it found the part of the Disk that the Father of the Gods wanted. Then He would just stare and smile, pull and stretch at invisible mold, and soon... something new would be made.

And Jongo had watched. Whenever she could.

It was bringing something from absolutely nothing. The world would forever be different when it was done, because the Disk had never seen it's like before. Jongo understood, even if his siblings did not.

Creation was change.

And without change, the Disk would stagnate and fall to the Abyss. Jongo would not let that happen. Not to her Father's work. Not to all the living things that had been lovingly made, time after time, with a stare and smile, a pull and a stretch. And not to Jongo's family.

Most definitely not to his family.

Jongo would protect them. Even if it meant some sacrifices were made along the way. Even if some of them began to hate Jongo for it. Even if, worst of all, it meant acting her age.

Jongo felt the storm cloud - Larree - rumble. The Band of Chaos, for once, remained quiet. Jongo could feel it focusing in upon itself, excited. It did not titter, giggle, laugh, or - thankfully - sing on key. It just... was pulling on something. And Jongo stared. And smiled.

"Excuse me, Lord Veldimarus. It is time."

Time to create.

Time to change.

And time for everyone else to watch what Jongo could do.

The Lord and All Father of the Flight of Water would have a front row seat. He would be witness. And he could only watch as Jongo shifted. The young human child seemed to melt into the storm cloud, now as big as a large city, and covering the sea like a floating grey blanket.

Jongo could feel the sparks of lightning. Could feel the weight of the water. The storm wanted to let go. Larree wanted Jongo to keep her promise. The promise to help change the world.

Jongo asked again, in the language of the winds, "Are you sure?"

Larree only thundered an affirmative.

And then Larree died.

Not as a mortal dies. The Quiet Lands would probably hold no comfort to a storm. Instead, Jongo accepted Larree's sacrifice, and took control of the clouds that had formed the storm. The consciousness that had been Larree just... dissipated.

And Jongo broke a promise he'd made herself. He'd promised not to cry. But a storm must cry. It must cry in happiness, in sorrow, in pain, in pleasure. If it is ever to reach sweet release, a storm must cry.

Tears of rain fell to the ocean, and in each raindrop, Jongo was there. She called again to the dolphins in the sea, and they came willingly. They could feel the coming change. Some were curious. Some were excited. A few were scared. But still they came.

The first to jump out of the water and into the rain was perplexed for a moment, as it did not fall back into the ocean waves. Bathed in the rain, the dolphin began to glow. And it found it could swim higher through the storm's tears. It squealed in joy, and for the first time on the disk, a dolphin flew in the air.

It rose higher and higher, and soon more dolphins, the bold and unwavering, joined it in flight. They rolled and played, and laughed in delight. Soon there were ten of them in the air. Then twenty. Then fifty. And soon, dancing in the skies between the grey blanket and the water they had once known as their home, there were hundreds of dolphins. They all spun together in amazement. Even those who had been scared lost their fear in the simple feeling of swimming through the rain.

The most curious of them wanted to go higher. They would dart towards the clouds, hear the rumble of the thunder, and dart away again, unsure.

Finally, the first to jump from the water, the most curious about this mysterious new game, this call from someone who felt like a father, a mother, a friend; finally found the courage and jumped into the cloud.

The storm rumbled, and lightning flashed, rolling through the sky.

And Jongo touched the Prime, the creation of all, the bounding powers of the universe, and Choas found there-in.

The hundreds of Dolphins watched, as something began to sing. It didn't make sense, but it echoed through the sky. Those with ears for music would hear it for leagues around. There were no words. Only sound. Echoing unusual sound, musical and lyrical, and ever changing.

The other Dolphins felt the call. One by one, hundreds of them leapt through the storm's watery sky, and dove into the clouds. One by one, their voices joined with the music. One by one, they began to change.

From his vantage point away from the storm, Lord Veldimarus could see as the grey clouds exploded with color. Reds and blues and yellows, all the hues in between, and even a few outside and unheard of until this day; they all began to swirl and twirl and glow around each of the hundreds of Dolphins, and then through the grey skin.

The music reached a crescendo as the energy of the storm crackled and struck, and the clouds themselves fell through the sky and met with the sea. The ocean waves washed through the glowing Dolphins, but did not push them away. The water reached out, tenderly touching the rainbow of chaos that now was where each Dolphin had been.

Where the storm had been the journey into the new, the ocean was the promise that there was a place to return to. Slowly, carefully, beckoning like a lover, the crests of the waves called Jongo's creations back to the sea.

Hundreds of them fell like rain, and splashed into the water, crying out with their new voices for the first time. They were still cries of excitement. Of the remarkable. Of joy.

But none of fear.

What remained of the storm gathered itself up, and the sounds of the eerie music stopped. Floating above the water, just above the waves, with no way to explain how gravity did not exert itself, was a shining white creature.

It had no nose, only a stretched part of skin where a nose would have been. Still, it smiled with large round teeth, and looked down at the waters below, one eye grey and one eye green; both eyes mesmerizing and bright. On its thin forehead rested a simple circular crown, which seemed to twist in upon itself. The Band of Chaos tooted a greeting to those assembled below.

Each and every creature, exactly like the one in the sky but for their non-shining grey skin (and lack of a crown and the ability to float in the air) looked up at the noise. Each and every creature popped their head out of the water, and... they tooted a greeting back.

Raising a hand to look at herself, Jongo grinned a round toothed grin. Other than the glowing skin - likely a residual effect of momentarily touching the Prime of All - Jongo looked pretty much the same as he had when she had woken upon the Spire after fighting the Puppeteer.

The same webbed fingers and toes, same skinny form, same small dorsal fin upon his back. Even the patch of hair was there, just on the top of Jongo's head.

And Jongo looked down at what had once been the largest pod of Dolphins in the Disk, and saw they were Dolphins no more. They were something new. Something different.

::My children. My sons. My daughters. My family. Much as I am Scion to Baz'Auran, you are Jongo's Scion. No. That is not right. Close but not quite it. You are... Jongoscion.:: Jongo realized that he was speaking in Dolphin, silent other than an occasional chirping chattering sound.

::I look out at all of you, and I am filled with joy. You will not have easy lives, and there will be times where you will struggle. But remember this moment. This time of your birth. Remember who was here, and who watched you be born anew. Remember the feeling of happiness, and be assurred... you will smile again.::

Gravity, apparently, couldn't take it any longer, and insistently tried to pull Jongo into the water. The Band of Chaos growled, Gravity decided it could wait a little bit longer, and in order to be a bit accommodating, allowed the water instead to rise up to let Jongo sit down on a chair made of ocean waves.

::I will spend what time I can with you, and teach you what your new bodies can do. But we have an enemy that you must beware. Even now, the White City may still be in its grasp, and I know not what happened to my own Father, my own creator. So the Jongoscion will be charged with two tasks. The first is easy. The second may be impossible.:: Jongo looked out at her new people, and could see confusion in some of the faces that bobbed above the water. But they all were listening. They all wanted to know. They came here willingly, and they changed willingly, and hopefully they would see the importance and willingly choose to help.

::The first task is simple: Live. Live so that more Jongoscion may be born. Each of you, when you feel you have lived fully, will feel the call to be born anew. To split, and separate, and become something more then you were. One consciousness will die, so that more may be born. Your parents were a Storm and a God. Your midwife was the ocean. Your first cry was in joy. And your lives will be in joy as well. But you must live them.::

::The second task is much harder. There will come a time when you will leave the ocean's embrace, and walk among the land, learning of the people and things there are in the Disk. You will seek answers to questions you may not even yet know. And with any luck, your journeys will provide answers to my own questions. Questions like: what attacked the White City? What has corrupted my Father's work? What is a cheese fondue, and why does the Kraken have a beef with me?:: The Band of Chaos giggled.

So did the assembled Jongoscion.

::Right. So. I've rambled enough, I think. We're going to our new home, in much calmer waters. There, I'll teach you more of what you need to know. Head west, my Jongoborn. To the Sea of Jongo.:: Jongo spun his ocean chair around, and looked up at the imposing form of leader of the Flight of Water.

"Lord Veldimarus. Thank you. I know I may have raised more questions then you received answers, but I hope I was able to entertain you. My children and I must now go. I have much to show them. If you ever have need of a friend... seek me out. Though we have never spoken before today, just being an observer of the birth of my scion makes you dear to me. So, thank you. If you have anything to say before I go, I would be honored to listen." Jongo bowed, and watched below as the Jongoscion begin their swim west. Their bodies moved as fast - if not faster - then the Dolphins they once were, and Jongo did not have long before she would have to join them. But Veldimarus deserved respect.

And Jongo really really really wanted someone to tell him that what she'd just done was super awesome, because it totally was, and anyone who said otherwise was probably lying due to jealousy. But Jongo didn't think Veldimarus would use the words 'super awesome'. Still, hearing that he'd impressed a Father of Dragons would be a nice cap on what was already a good day.

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2 Major spent

New total:

0 Major 3 Minor 1 Ceremony

[TheDarkDM]

Carolinus Descends the Dark Halls

Looking down at the knight of the White City, Eltraya smiled sadly, grief warring with confusion and hatred in her eyes.

"Whatever happens, Lord Carolinus, know that you have earned my respect. Had we known that a child of Baz'Auran could possess such nobility, our first meeting might have been very different."

She turned without another word, striding into the pit beneath the mountain without a second glance. Carolinus was forced into a quick march to keep up, and soon the darkness engulfed them both. For a time, Khar Eltraya's footsteps were the only thing guiding him, the only thing that kept him from wandering forever in the dark. Eventually, though, a bright glow appeared in the distance before blossoming into full radiance. Looking down, Carolinus saw that they stood upon an impossibly long bridge, massive for anyone of human size but barely wide enough for two titans to walk abreast. Beyond the smooth edges of the bridge lay only darkness, dropping away into the very heart of the Disk, hungrily swallowing the newfound light. The light itself emanated from a vaulted archway engraved with runes alien to Carolinus' eyes - runs that burned like stars. The runes continued past the arch, lining the tunnel beyond with an intricate pattern of symbols that must have been the Titans' language.

The tunnel continued for miles, the smooth walls and floor defying the capabilities of even the greatest human craftsmen, all bathed in the starlight of Titan history. Within the passage, Khar Eltraya slowed almost imperceptibly, and a glance up at her revealed her eyes scanning the walls as she walked. How often had she read the words engraved upon that old stone? Certainly, Carolinus could not say, but the ease with which she continued walking suggested this was not the first time she had trod this path.

It took them hours to reach the end of the tunnel, but eventually another arch appeared in the distance, opening into a vast circular chamber. More tunnels radiated out from it like the spokes of a wheel, and above each was inscribed a single Titan rune. There were eighteen such tunnels, nine to either side of them, yet directly opposite them stood not a tunnel, but a great set of stone double doors, so heavily and delicately carved they looked to be sculpted rather than hewn. Following Khar Eltraya to the center of the chamber, Carolinus felt the runelight dim behind him, so great was the distance.

"Welcome, my lord, to the realm of the Titans. Each clan was provided with their own complex when we were imprisoned here - the better for us to continue the bitter warfare that kept our population in check. Once, this hall was filled with the sounds of battle, its floor slick with the blood of warriors struggling for dominance. But no longer."

She lifted a mighty arm to point at the great doors looming ahead of them.

"Therein resides my master, the Overlord of the Titans. Come."

Those last steps were the most difficult, for as he proceeded Carolinus became acutely aware of the deep stains upon the stone floor, a dark scar that besmirched even the deep grey rock. As the doors to the Overlord's chamber came within reach, they swung open without a sound, revealing a long hall beyond, flanked by pillars that would have served as towers upon Wardstone. There were dozens of them lining the distance to the shadowed dais, and before each stood an unmoving Titan warrior, so still they might have been statues but for the gleam in their eyes that followed Carolinus as he passed. Between the pillars, Carolinus was able to make out murals in the gloom, great splashes of color depicting towering cities and vast fields, the long-dead Titan empire immortalized in the only way possible. Finally, the pillars and murals came to an end, and Khar Eltraya fell to one knee before the hulking dais.

"My Overlord, I have brought unto you Carolinus, son of Baz'Auran, Lord of Markien. He requests an audience, to treat on behalf of his people."

For a long heartbeat, there was no response, the darkness atop the dais obscuring all. Another heartbeat passed, and then another, and Khar Eltraya's eyes grew wide with uncertainty. But then came a tone like unto the purest note of Sonata's song, and a white glow began to emanate from seams in the dais, seams in the throne atop it, until everything was bathed in a silver light. Fifteen steps above them stood a monstrous throne, it's sharp angles offset by the swirling intricacy of its silver tracery, its back rising almost one hundred feet into the air. It seemed to be one solid piece of purple-grey quartz grown in the shape of a seat, the smoothness of its surface defying tools. Yet it was not the throne that drew attention, but its occupant. The Titan Overlord sat rigid in his throne, yet Carolinus could tell he must have surpassed sixty feet in height. His skin was the dark gold-black of ancient bronze, his eyes gleaming diamonds that reflected the silver light of the runelight. He was bald, yet despite that bore a resemblance to Baz'Auran himself. Clad in white-gold armor, he seemed a vision of some virtuous spirit of the White City, save his mistrusting stare.

"A child of Baz'Auran deigns to negotiate, Khar Eltraya? Most unusual. Step forward, Carolinus, Lord of Markien, and tell me what you wish to discuss."

A Light in the Darkness

As the hopes and prayers of the Fayheran surged outwards to protect Fayruz, the manacles in the hands of the Nightmare Princes exploded into dust. The armored figures hissed as one, recoiling from the purifying barrier, shielding dull grey eyes from the terrible, beautiful radiance. At the center of the storm of light and hope stood Fayruz unbound, her mind clear for the first time since entering the baleful dome of Uluuvatar. She saw Elanna and Khalen-Het, wreathed in the flames of damnation as Sin warred with Law. She saw the writhing masses below, entrapped by their own base desires, caught in an endless cycle of empty debauchery. And she saw her sister, hanging upon the iron threads of Elanna's will, her words stolen from her.

Fayruz's first step towards Sonata was met by a tortured moan, the very stone she tread upon writhing away from her light. As the first rays of the Fayheran's will passed over the sinuous garottes, silk as hard as steel began to blacken and char, burning away like paper. In an instant, Sonata found herself freed, tumbling back to the floor of the bower as perfumed air rushed back into her lungs. There was a moment, just a moment, for the twins eyes to meet, but it was enough. As soon as Sonata was freed, though, Fayruz felt a pulse of malice push against her barrier. Turning, she saw the Nightmare Princes forcing their way through, their limbs sizzling in the unyielding glow, armor beginning to pop and boil with every step. Yet there was no doubt in their eyes, no hesitation.

Within Khalen-Het's barrier, however, the struggles of the sister goddesses were momentarily forgotten. As Khalen-Het asked his second question, Elanna exploded into ugly laughter, every note mocking what had been asked. He taloned nail dug deeper into his chest before she pulled back suddenly and the laughter died. As she spoke, her voice was soft, and hard.

"Alone, Khalen? I was never alone. I had been in the clutches of that beast for less than an hour before our friends found me and drove it off. I thought I had been rescued, but they feared to return to Baz'Auran so soon after defying his will. The strongest of them..."

Elanna gave a bitter laugh, shaking her head.

"I cannot ever remember their names anymore. But the strongest of them advised they wait, that they return in a few days time and claim they'd been searching for me the whole time. I begged them simply to return, that I would plead their case, but they refused. They thought their "valor" would assuage Baz'Auran's wrath. Fools."

Elanna paused, looking up at the ceiling of the dome.

"They did not know that they would change, that spirits cannot survive unscathed within the physical realm. The changes were slight, at first. One of them killed a deer on the second day; they likely intended for me to eat it. But suddenly, all five of them were hungry for meat, and soon days turned into weeks."

She looked back at Khalen-Het, tears only just held at bay in her eyes.

"The strongest one took me on the fifteenth night. They'd changed greatly by then - become more human. But he was still strong, terribly strong, and his appetites had grown. Eventually, the others joined him. We made our home in a high cave in some forsaken corner of the disk, and during the day they'd seek their sport and their food outside, leaving me to prepare the fire and dispose of the offal. And every night they would return, seeking their other sport."

Elanna laughed again, a tortured, wrenching sound.

"Alone, brother? No, I was anything but along for those decades I was left abandoned. And every night, after those monsters had tired of me and fallen into slumber I prayed to our father for his forgiveness, for his mercy. He never answered. Baz'Auran abandoned me."

Elanna's voice began to rise, a crescendo that blotted out the roar from below them.

"For the longest time I didn't believe, brother. I didn't believe that none of my dear family would come to my rescue. But a naive girl can only endure so much before her innocence shatters, and I am thankful for it. I realized Baz'Auran would never come, that I was doomed to live forever as a plaything to corrupted spirits, so I decided to end it. I crushed the head of the strongest one with a rock one moonless night; imagine my surprise when it awakened my Spark. But it was not a Spark of law or justice or peace. No, instead of a rush of power, the base desires of my tormentors washed over me like a tidal wave. I almost drowned in their filth before their surprised cries roused me. It was all too simple to bind them to my will then - their weakness became my strength. Finally, after my years of torment I could return to the White City! But when I tried, I was denied!"

Elanna suddenly grew quiet again, shifting closer to Khalen-Het.

"I was left, surrounded by the indecent secrets and suppressed urges of every mortal in existence, all of them crashing against my sanity without reprieve. I tried to ignore the madness, to find a community to call my own, but the closer I came the more I saw the truth. Those things down there are weak, pathetic animals. All of them are corrupt, broken, and all of them will betray you if it suits their aims - it is simply in their nature. The goodness of humanity is a lie, a thin veneer of enforced goodness over a core of sin. So I withdrew from the world, and constructed my paradise, where no man is forced to live the lie of decency or nobility. Where all beings can indulge in the lusts that plague them. It is a kind, noble thing I do, to relieve them the burden of morality."

She was close now, close enough Khalen-Het could almost taste her.

"So tell me, Khalen-Het, do you still believe Baz'Auran's design to be just?"

Riddles in the Dark

The masked creature's head tilted as Kalandor and Aramar responded to him, his sinuous neck seeming to grow even as it bent. His expression slowly drawing into a frown, his head shook once, so slightly it might have been a twitch. Then, the creature wasn't there. Kalandor and Aramar felt light taps upon their shoulders as a blur vaulted over them, and when they turned they saw the thing perched atop its spear, the butt balancing perfectly on the ground, the blade supporting the entirety of his weight upon an outstretched toe.

"Tis brave indeed, my worthy gods, to challenge me alone. But before you strike in misplaced rage, you should question the unknown. On family you rest your hope, your childish faith undaunted. More care, I think, would be advised, or by errors you'll be haunted. A family I had once, bright beings brave and true. Yet in the end we fell to bits, and the same fate may strike you."

The creature slid back, gliding along the air to come to a stop beside its spear, standing straight and true for the first time. With a languid swipe, the blade was leveled at the two gods, and as they watched the mask changed, becoming jagged and horned, the eye slits narrowing into shards of gleaming shadow.

"And if it does you'll find a receptive friend in me. But if you children do endure, a different play we'll see. The balance must be kept, my lords, if the world is to endure. We've heroes to spare but villains few, a boring plot for sure. So warn your brethren in their courts, their mountains bright and gleaming - a storm approaches from beyond, thick with vice and scheming. For if villain is to be my role, then I embrace the part. To walk the razor's edge, you see, is my greatest art."

There was a flash of light, and with a clap of thunder the creature disappeared, leaving Aramar and Kalandor alone once again. It might have been a dream, if not for the shimmering rose lying where the creature once stood, its surface flickering between brilliant white and deepest black.

Riddles in the Light

Veldimarus watches the birth of the Jongoscion impassively, his shimmering eyes roving over the splashing multitudes of the new race. As Jongo finished introducing his children to the world, he swore he almost saw a smile on the massive dragon's face.

"Most impressive, Jongo. The children of Baz'Auran, it seems, are as mighty as we were told. I will be watching your progress with great interest, Chaos-born, and I leave you with this warning - Kraken and Leviathan populated these waters with a menagerie of dangers, and they will all rally to their father's call."

With that, Veldimarus' head turned, and the frolicking Jngoscion were borne aloft as his submerged body sent a wave rolling under them. He gave a single roar, the crashing sound of waves warring with the cliffs constraining them, and dived. Such a gargantuan creature should not have disappeared swiftly, yet as he submerged Veldimarus seemed almost to merge with the ocean, fading from view and leaving Jongo alone with his children.

[The Succubus]

A Tremor Beneath the Earth


As Khalen listened to Elanna's tale, he began to feel nauseous at the terrible things she had had to endure at those that claimed to protect her. Something inside him had begun to grow. Something terrible.

"So tell me, Khalen-Het, do you still believe Baz'Auran's design to be just?"

A bitter laugh broke through Khalen's lips before he became solemn once more. "Once, I had absolute faith in Father's justice but after the day the four spirits took you from me, my faith was lost. I was-"

His voice faltered as a train of thought from earlier completed its journey. With almost glacial slowness, he straightened up and turned his head towards the menacing figures that were attempting to bind Fayruz and Sonata once more. As Elanna studied her brother's profile, his normally solid jet black eyes seemed to change - was there a flicker of red to them?

"Elanna," he said, "My final question. The four figures over there - are they the spirits from the White City?"

[Erik Vale]

"He Treads Were Angel's Fear To"

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Riddles in the Dark

The masked creature's head tilted as Kalandor and Aramar responded to him, his sinuous neck seeming to grow even as it bent. His expression slowly drawing into a frown, his head shook once, so slightly it might have been a twitch. Then, the creature wasn't there. Kalandor and Aramar felt light taps upon their shoulders as a blur vaulted over them, and when they turned they saw the thing perched atop its spear, the butt balancing perfectly on the ground, the blade supporting the entirety of his weight upon an outstretched toe.

"Tis brave indeed, my worthy gods, to challenge me alone. But before you strike in misplaced rage, you should question the unknown. On family you rest your hope, your childish faith undaunted. More care, I think, would be advised, or by errors you'll be haunted. A family I had once, bright beings brave and true. Yet in the end we fell to bits, and the same fate may strike you."

The creature slid back, gliding along the air to come to a stop beside its spear, standing straight and true for the first time. With a languid swipe, the blade was leveled at the two gods, and as they watched the mask changed, becoming jagged and horned, the eye slits narrowing into shards of gleaming shadow.

"And if it does you'll find a receptive friend in me. But if you children do endure, a different play we'll see. The balance must be kept, my lords, if the world is to endure. We've heroes to spare but villains few, a boring plot for sure. So warn your brethren in their courts, their mountains bright and gleaming - a storm approaches from beyond, thick with vice and scheming. For if villain is to be my role, then I embrace the part. To walk the razor's edge, you see, is my greatest art."

There was a flash of light, and with a clap of thunder the creature disappeared, leaving Aramar and Kalandor alone once again. It might have been a dream, if not for the shimmering rose lying where the creature once stood, its surface flickering between brilliant white and deepest black.

Kalandor stood stalwart and of stone faced as he listened to the 'man/golem'. When the spear was levelled at the two, Kalandor's staff became a spear.

Once 'The Lord of Weal and Woe' dissipated, Kalandor pipped up in an almost comical voice.
"You sure he isn't The Forested Bard?"
Slowly, Kalandor moved forward, and picked up the rose that he left behind. His hands held the stem delicately, as if it was the most fragile of things. He brought the rose up to his eyes, inhaling it's scent as the flower's colour changed across the spectrum.
Then he attached it to his leather vest, which just formed to have a piece of rope around it.
"Let us leave this cave brother. You have been in here for far too long, and I should tell you about the world..."

[Demidos]

As the Lord of Weal and Woe dissapeared, Aramar stood defiant a moment longer, then collapsed in on himself, his muscles trembling from the unaccustomed strain. Silvar rushed over to grab his arm, steadying him, and was thanked by a grateful nod from Aramar. Thank you. Youve been faithful and true, and I will need you a little longer.

Silvar nodded back, a silent understanding passing through the two of them. Both knew that Aramar would need his darker nature to pass through what came before them, but neither felt the need to say so aloud.

Then Aramar turned to Kalandor, and, grasping his hand, bowed his head to kiss it, though with a wary look towards the flower now tucked in his brother`s vest. Thank you, my dearest brother, again. You are right in your urge to leave this accursed spot. I am not so sure that you should accept gifts from such a creature so easily, but now is not the time to question it, and it will help us much, or so I hope, once we can study it in greater detail. Now let us leave.

He turns, stumbling slightly, and heads towards the exit, tantalizingly close and dark, but dark in a way he can understand. To sleep under the stars tonight will be an exquisite experience.

[Erik Vale]

Aid of a Brother.
"I know of the potential harm, but risk is without reward..."
Kalandor helped Aramar walk, being his crutch and support, as much as Aramar had slept for far to long, he had slept a restless sleep.
Each step became more supported, more strengthened under Kalandor's influence, and subtly nature shortened the distance, as it always did with it's favourite traveller. Letting Aramar fall to the ground quitely and with little support under the stars and trees.
After giving him a moment to fall into sleep, Kalandor turned to Silvar.
"I will stand watch, I will let you rest tonight. However, we will need to move on, and perhaps see our siblings. Is there anywhere in particular that you think we should move towards? I have no definitive place in mind, but a slight idea..."

[Demidos]

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Aid of a Brother.
"I know of the potential harm, but risk is without reward..."
Kalandor helped Aramar walk, being his crutch and support, as much as Aramar had slept for far to long, he had slept a restless sleep.
Each step became more supported, more strengthened under Kalandor's influence, and subtly nature shortened the distance, as it always did with it's favourite traveller. Letting Aramar fall to the ground quitely and with little support under the stars and trees.
After giving him a moment to fall into sleep, Kalandor turned to Silvar.
"I will stand watch, I will let you rest tonight. However, we will need to move on, and perhaps see our siblings. Is there anywhere in particular that you think we should move towards? I have no definitive place in mind, but a slight idea..."

Silvar looks down at his resting brother-self, a long, slow look. Then he looks up. ''I have little need of rest, especially during the night. If you don't mind, or should you prefer such, I am perfectly capable of taking the first watch, especially with the joy of my returned...self, for lack of a better word.'' he says, as much in the minds of his fellow god-kin as aloud.

Aramar smiles ruefully for a moment, then blinks, catching himself in the middle of a yawn.

''Rest does sound welcome indeed. Sleep did not occur as such in that state. Rather, it was a series of neverending nightmares in a waking dream. However, I am interested in hearing of this place to which you wish to travel. I can only guess that it might have some relation to that stranger who appeared after my Release, and possibly more specifically with the rose that he left and that you took. But rather than conjecture and waste my already depleted breath, I would hear your idea.''

Though lying back and obviously on the verge of falling asleep, Aramar´s interest was palpable. He had seen the dangerous nature of the being which they had faced, despite his exhaustion. It would not do for such a creature yo be running loose ''playing the villain'', as the creature had called it. And the Lord of Weal and Woe. The name sounded important, but, on his life, he couldnt remember anything about the thing.

[Erik Vale]

Kalandor nods listening to Aramar and Silvar.
"You may take first watch then Silvar... As to where I would take us."
Kalandor stops to think.
"I do not intend to follow this 'Lord', I would deal with him later, and have never seen him before. He just gives me more of a reason to train myself... I do however, plan to head towards where I landed, where the northan mountains, the great plains, and the Sea of forests intersect, as they are called by mortals. The area is farely peaceful, and has much to offer. It might give me reason to expend some energy towards the towns, perhaps set up a trade capital....."
Kalandor laughs a little to himself, shaking his head.
"However, it will be a good place to rest. Just as long as no one sets of a clan fued while we reside in one of the towns."

[Raz_Fox]

Fayruz embraced her sister and held her close, there in the shadows of Uluuvatar, and whispered, "I told you to run, Sonata. If our sister wins- in this place, she is so powerful- if she wins, let her only catch me. I won't see you enslaved here with me."

She looked up, towards the Nightmare Princes, still pushing themselves towards her with all the devotion of Gamesha or Saven. "They're coming, Sonata. Please, get out, you need to warn our family."

[Kasanip]

"No." Sonata coughs. "No. I won't. I won't run. I won't leave you, Fayruz."
"I won't leave you again. We fell, and I never knew if I would see you again. I outwitted the foxes of Kodama, mesmerized the dragon king of Madako, united the people of Ecchr, tamed the lightning wolf... I journeyed over this entire disk. I did all of it so I could find you.
I was at the Olm, waiting for you. And you left me there to run here with Elanna."

Sonata laughed bitterly as she regained her voice.

"And thinking you were in danger, I went to Khalen and we came here."

Sonata shook her head angrily. This was not a fox smile, or a loving smile, or happy smile. This was a wolf's glare. over Fayruz's shoulder, to pierce the eyes of the nightmare princes coming from behind.
Sonata wrapped her arms around Fayruz as she stared coldly over her sister's shoulder at the nightmare princes.

"I didn't want to see you this way. You don't know how much the wounds hurt. I did it all for you, dearest sister. And I'm not going to let Elanna separate us again."

She touched her forehead to Fayruz and looked into her sister's eyes with a smile expression, and became grim determination.

"If our destiny is to fall into darkness here, into chains and become handmaids of Elanna, then I will stay with you. We are twins. Our destinies are tied. I love you Fayruz, dearest sister. I would go anywhere... I HAVE GONE EVERYWHERE for you!

Wearing a chain is easy, if it means I am with you."

Sonata smiled ruefully and kissed her sister.
Then she stared down at the nightmare princes.

"We are daughters of Baz'Auran! Only the best jewels are worthy to touch us. If you think you can put a collar around the necks of the princesses of the white city, come!" She said defiantly, holding Fayruz's hands.

[THEChanger]

The Dream-time: Time of Making

It was said, that in the time after the summoning of the Breuddwydirhodiwr to the Dream-time, The Weaver walked. The Weaver went all across the Dream-time, weaving and unweaving as he saw fit. It was in this time that the great Dream Cities of Caer Hysbyrd and Caer Nos were raised, and the river Rhew was thawed into the great raging torrent it is today. It was also in this time that the Breuddwydirhodiwr rose to prominence, and among their number heroes rose, and they wove their own tales.

But, it came to pass that in his wandering, The Weaver came once more upon the dead city where the dream spirits lived, and upon the corpses of Eldest Brother and Etrom-na. There, he found the ancient tree which once housed Eldest Brother's soul. The Weaver, having found an idea, a purpose in his mind, began to unweave the mighty tree into planks and struts and various pieces. For The Weaver had wandered long, and had grown tired of wandering. And he had a plan.

Taking the pieces which he had made out of the great tree back to his great Castle Rhudfir, The Weaver ascended to the top of his domain. There, in a tower made of clouds and thunder, The Weaver worked. He was not as skilled in woodcraft as Haramhold, nor as brilliant a magewright as Faden the Everliving, nor could he bend the very Prime itself to his will, as Dasque would learn one day to do.

But The Weaver knew the tools of his trade inside and out. And so, he made something beautiful.

From the ever-changing wood of the first Tree, the wood of all trees, he made the frame. With a knife made from the first Tooth of the first Snake, he carved and shaped his creation. And with a breath of divine spark, he gave it life. Into the frame was carved the never-ending patterns of life itself, an endless spiral, twisting in and out. Within, the twists and turns of a loom. This was The Weaver's great work, a loom of power, to twist and change the fabric of the entire Dream-time at once. And so The Weaver drew into his loom threads from the very ground around Castle Rhudfir, and connected them high within the clouds, and finally, gave his creation a name.

Damwain.

[Raz_Fox]

For a moment, Fayruz was taken aback, surprise evident on her face. Then, that surprise softened into tearful joy. Had she been alone so long that she'd forgotten the love of a sister?

"I never knew, Sonata... if I'd known you'd been waiting for me, I... I would have sent word. I thought that I could make a friend from an enemy, that whoever ruled here would listen to me, and now I've brought you and Khalen into danger."

She wrapped her fingers around Sonata's own, and if Sonata's face was determined, as defiant and grim as the storm, then Fayruz's face was as bright as the sun. "I love you too, Sonata. And even though her chains are cruel to bear, I could endure forever with you by my side."

She breathed, and it was golden and bright, the sun glinting off of sand in the south. "Be strong, my sister," she said in blessing. "For the Fayheran and for our family."

[TheDarkDM]

The Facade Cracks

Elanna laughed in response to Khalen's question, and as the shrill keening bounded off the walls of her great dome, Sonata and Fayruz saw fractures beginning to appear. Yet the jagged cracks around them were soon forgotten as the first of the nightmare princes finally reached the epicenter of their miniature sun. His armor was blistered and broken, and beneath it the twin deities saw spectral flesh attempting to knit itself together over exposed and blackened ribs. A skeletal hand reached into the empty space at his side, and with a flourish pulled forth a blade of mist and shadow. It was as a bucket of water thrown on a bonfire, the light of Fayruz's liberation dimming as it vied with the fell warrior's purpose, and even as it faded the other princes pressed forward.

Within the pillar of damning fire, Elanna's laughter continued, boring into Khalen's head like an implacable chisel. Then with a whip-crack, she spoke again, every word a slap against whatever righteousness he had managed to summon.

"Of course they are, brother. After you abandoned me I had little choice in protectors. They are my pets, now and forever."

Before Khalen-Het could surge forwards in indignation, Elanna thrust her palm against his chest. It seemed impossible that her slight frame might stand against the arbiter's mounting fury, yet Khalen was forced back several feet by the force of the blow.

"And now my final question, dear brother. Why did you come here?"

Before the answer came, the nightmare prince's blade plummeted towards Sonata. It was quicksilver, a flash of lightning in the night, but Sonata knew lightning, and flung herself aside at the last moment. But despite her speed, the nightmare princes were skilled, and even as she twisted away the blade slid along her side. It left no wound, but at its tough Sonata felt an explosion of emotions rock her, gluttony and envy warring with pride, sloth and lust vying for dominance, greed and wrath crying out for vengeance. That touch would have reduced the strongest of mortals to a gibbering shell, but Sonata was a god, and as she regained her footing the cries began to fade. She rose, to face the nightmare princes with her sister.

[The Succubus]

Maelstrom


Two versions of Khalen-Het stood in the pillar of light with this evil creature that had once been his most beloved sibling. One was a solemn man of laws and duty; the other, hidden within him, was a creature that had been long hidden from the world, a monster that had been nursed on the milk of bitterness, that breathed loneliness and remorse and had been shut away in a cell of self control.

With every poison-honey word Elanna spoke, the bars of the cage weakened and the beast within could taste the air of freedom....and the promise of retribution.

“You that were once my sister, I came here for three reasons.

I came to retrieve a person that is your very antithesis – a being of love, of kindness and warmth.

I came to discover what had become of she who had been most dear to me. I have learned her fate – and those that were responsible.”

Khalen-Het turned to his sister as the light around them lifted; yet the portal beneath them did not close. “I came to fulfil a promise I made to Sonata – and now I will make good on my vow....”

*****

The two sisters gazed up at the towering form of the Nightmare Prince, steeling themselves for their assault. Fayruz blinked – and found herself staring at a steel harpoon protruding through the Prince's left shoulder, its cruel tip dripping blood. The harpoon was on a length of rusted chain.

“Corruptor.”

A howl split the air and the sisters turned to see another Prince, a metal claw sunk deep into the side of his torso and another length of chain.

“Defiler.”

The third Prince now had what looked like an iron collar around his neck, with sharp metal spines on the inside that dug into his flesh.

“Desecrater.”

Their gaze travelled along the chains and the two sisters found themselves staring at Khalen-Het. Around him, swirling red and black portals hung in the air, as though the very fabric of reality was wounded.

“Despoiler.”

As Khalen-Het took another step forward, a metallic screech was added to the cacophony around them as another portal opened and a butcher's hook snaked through the air and embedded itself in the leg of the fourth Prince.

The figure that had once been Khalen-Het spoke with his voice but it now carried with it a harsh reverberating echo, like the slamming of a cell door, or the hellish clunk of a torture device in some dark and forsaken dungeon. His eyes had changed completely – the polished black jet from before had been replaced entirely with the swirling red and black miasma the sisters saw in the portals.

Khalen-Het continued to speak as he advanced. Another step, another portal and another hellish implement sought to impale one of the Princes. “Long have I awaited this day. You took us from the White City, you took us into danger, you claimed my sister for your plaything,” Khalen-Het was almost screaming at this point and more portals and chains appeared, spawning faster by the second, “...and abused her in the most horrific ways. Yet this was not enough for you. You sought to make her as vile and loathsome as yourselves and you succeeded.”

The ground beneath them all trembled and a crack ran from the place where Elanna and Khalen had been speaking moments earlier. The Princes turned towards Khalen as he continued his slow inexorable march towards them.

The small fragment of Khalen's soul that had not been utterly dominated by wrath knew that given the chance, the Princes would inflict their depravities on Fayruz and Sonata, seeking to turn them into copies of Elanna and that she would relish every minute of their action. Khalen turned his burning gaze upon the two figures within the glowing sphere and tried to project a single thought toward them.


Run.

[Demidos]

Far away -- half a world away from the violence that was unfolding in the Palace of Sin -- the sun was rising, a warm glow on a bright horizon. Silvar had gone to rest, a dark shadow sprawled out under the lip of a reddish stone. Kalandor slept quietly, but his nature did not lend itself overmuch to sleep -- the sun on his face would wake him momentarily.

Aramar smiled -- how different the world looked in the morning light. He sat propped up against the base of a massive spreading oak, full fifty paces across, flexing his fingers thoughtfully. The torture that he had endured for so many years was over, and he felt revitalized. Renewed. Clean. The world presented itself with a welcoming attire, and he smelled the freshness of rain on the horizon.

He was made anew.

Coming to his knees, and raising his hands, he called to the spirit of the land far below. This place, in which he had suffered, would not become such a place for others. Light spilled from his hands, shockingly bright, a pure radiance in the early morning light. The sun's rays aquired a golden texturing, and a rush of green light spread from that central point. Green light, the color of spring, but also the coppery reds and burnt oranges of the trees in autumn. Everything took on a new meaning, in the most fundamental sense of the word.

The creatures of the woodland, too, were bathed, and a new intelligence gleamed in the gazes, even as they stretched, growing in size. Some rose to their hind legs, calling to the sky before falling heavily to the ground, their paws growing to the size of saucers. Everywhere, plants grew to larger, their limbs stretching heavenward, multiplying. The stream intensified, morphing into a waterfall. Aramar breathed deep, and the earthy, rich smell of loam filled the air. Moss coated the floor, tendrils spreading forth from the central figure of the god, light bathing his kneeling form. This would be a place of wonder and tranquility, where one could bask in the awesome power of nature, an arboretum and a tribute to this world of Baz'Aurans'. Arboretum-- a fine name, but not quite right. Another name.

"Arborea."

Its borders would hold against defilers and corrupters alike, and it could always be reached by those with pure intentions -- those who knew the way.

Spoiler

Show

Create Divine Sanctum: Arborea -- open to any seeking the lighter side of Nature, Sanctuary can be accessed by entering the borders on foot or by way of a short ceremony involving a forest glen and burying acorns. It is nature untamed, without the darker sides. Soaring forests and towering mountains dominate this sanctum, while secret streams and hollows abound.
Minor Acts: 3
Major Acts: 2
Ceremonies: 2