As so often happens, I first heard of the City of Twelve Bays and Stout Adamantine Fortress that lay within its borders amongst the halls of various gathering places. At first I found such stories interesting- tales of godlike power and vast wealth simply there for the taking by those brave or foolish enough to seek it. Arrogantly, I decided that I would be the next to take a portion of the hoard for myself, but my efforts were stymied almost immediately. I managed to orient myself well enough to catch a glimpse of the vast horde and its unlimited potential... but I had no companions and no guide on my journey, and my hopes were quickly dashed. Dejected, depressed, and defeated, I resigned myself to merely being content with the stories of such wonders as the rest of the world could only imagine that occasionally managed to escape from the City of Twelve bays unto the wider world beyond.
But then, one epic caught my ear, the story of a city by the name of Koganusan. The horrors and joys, the wealth and the filth, the life and the love and the hate and the killing that went on in such a place... I assured myself that the tales must have been embellished- certainly so such thing could possibly have happened anywhere! But I found that tale dwelling in my mind, haunting me, for days, weeks. I grew frustrated and spiteful, resolving never again to listen to a tale of The Adamantine Fortress... but the allure of such riches called to me, and my resolve quickly faltered.
Like a man... or should I say, like a dwarf possessed, I sought any information I could on the Stout Adamantine Fortress, and eventually I stumbled my way across a map. A well articulated and detailed document that menaced with spikes of steel and goblin bone. I hesitated not a moment before setting off again, my way now illuminated by the map- I knew not whether it was a fool's errand or the path to divinity, but I was determined to find out no matter the cost to myself.
I consulted the map frequently, and every step of the way things grew clearer. The fogs began to lift, and the snaking, winding paths slowly revealed their secrets to me, and I saw that while they were narrow and easy to stumble from (which I did many times,) they in truth did not twist so much as I had first thought.
At some point upon my journey, I looked behind myself and realized that I had come much further than I had thought. The path stretched out behind and below me further than I could see, and it struck me that somewhere along the way I had become one of the denizens of The Adamantine Fortress- my skills and power godlike compared to some, but I could see that there were those whose power and accomplishments were greater still. In my wake I had created and left a trail of cities, some burning, some flooded, others overrun by enemy hordes and still others which had succumbed to disease. And I resolved to become greater. More cities must be built, their accomplishments must be greater.
But... I never forgot the map, nor did I ever forget the one who had made it, though I had never met him nor could I even recall his name. Names were unimportant, I decided, and I made a new resolution. I decided to help the fledgling seekers upon their way, hoping that I could help them past the stumbling stones that seemed to shift beneath their feet as they had beneath my own, to help them bridge the chasms and to teach them how to slay those who would oppose them. And I look at their efforts, and I look upon the cities I have built, and I am satisfied... for now. But I am always thinking, always dreaming of my next city, always planning and always directing those under my care, cruel as it may be at times, encouraging and directing them to become greater.
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Topic: How did you reach the celestial city? (Read 11903 times)