Turn 3: The Golden Era
For many years, the world had fallen into a status quo. The Wallows would grow and develop, the Bands would raid and disrupt and the Minds would remember and trade. In the annals of time, this period of history would become known as the Golden Era, a name for those who lived it would seem ironic.
Then the arcanite spread. The discarded skin of the Starborn-Mage, arcanite was soon discovered by the peoples of the world and with it, its terrible powers. Though by itself the material was simply a pretty crystal that could be sustainably harvested, the knowledge of Raalmana unlocked its true purpose. [4] Curious as befitted his race and inclination, Raalmana sought to Infuse others, desiring to know how they would change. Constantly monitoring his subjects as they were infused, Raalmana ensured that less than half died from the process. The results were of great interest. While the varied mutations were expected, the growth of mana-infused fruit on many of his subjects were not expected. The mana seemed to embody the passionate emotions of the Wallowings, short-lived creatures who lived their lives to the fullest. After further studies, and a few casualties, Raalmana soon discovered that this was a unique rune of the Wallowings and that unfortunately, none of them could learn any other runes. From what he could infer, all mana was directed to the fruit, leaving the individual lacking in any mana. After even more experimentation, he discovered that feeding the fruit to other Wallowings only had results in female individuals, which resulted in ovulation, regardless of the donor's sex.
Experiments with the Caretakers were more to the dragon's expectations. The Caretakers were able to learn runes. However, they also tended to grow arcanite crystals if mana was left in their body for too long. A deep blue and faint gold, these crystals represented spells of Sorrow and Duty. If allowed to grow, the Caretaker would eventually be consumed by the arcanite, a painful if beautiful death. While Raalmana desired to delve even farther into the effects arcanite could have on the Caretakers, the difficulty in acquiring subjects ensured that would only stay a desire.
Acquiring a Mind was completely out of the question and a Treeman or Shrubmen would offer similar results to the Wallowings, Raalmana decided.
[6] Not truly disappointed, Raalmana decided to find out more about the innate attributes of all of the world's sapient inhabitants. Abandoning his remaining subjects to whatever pursuit they desired, the dragon once again set out to explore the worlds. He stopped first at a grand Wallow city, hoping to stay for a few years to truly learn all that could be gleaned. He learnt much. The innate mutability of the Wallowings were their greatest strength and their greatest weakness. It allowed individuals to be stronger, faster, wiser or taller than their compatriots. It also resulted in a caste system where those of similar mutations were encouraged to mate with one another.
While the Ascendant spent much of his time amongst the Wallowings, the Caretaker elites too offered great deals of knowledge. Though they were difficult to interrogate and slow to share knowledge, what he learnt was interesting. They truly believed in their duty to Guide with the few who did not exiled out to the wilds, or amongst some families, killed. He also found, through luck, that one significant factor in the Caretaker's slowness to give knowledge was that they were running out of what they knew. The gods above had given them a set amount, which while always amazing the Wallowing charges, were making the Caretakers uneasy. While new discoveries and inventions were always being made, they were not at a rate that could sustain the slow but constant innovations that had characterised their rule. Of course, this knowledge too far more than a few years to learn. As such, he eventually found no time to study other species, spending all his time with the Guided.
While the Dragon-Mage continued his discoveries, his Pacifist brothers were making insights of another kind. Given new knowledge, the Pacifists added a new tenet to their beliefs: 'Aid aid the weary, the poor and the weak; for while they may differ in mind and in body, they are of the same essence of yourself."
With their small slender broods, they would appear to help those who had suffered. Wallows that had been razed, Minds who's nodes had been destroyed, Treemen who's forests had been burnt. No matter their cause and reasons, the followers of the Way would never ask, only tending to their patients with all the knowledge they knew. And yet, the always knew it was not enough. Infection might take their patients in their sleep. Mineral-devouring organisms might rob a Mind of their memories. A parasite might infest a Treeman when the Pacifists were away. There was always another problem. As such, when they discovered some of Raalmana's discarded test subjects, they were overjoyed. Taking them into their care, they induced them to Infuse them all. Though knowing the risks, they did not stray from the tenets of the Way. Though many died from the currents of Chaos that riveted throughout their bodies, the survivors emerged from the process enlightened. Runes in the hundreds were pressed into their hide and memory. Augmented with the knowledge of Vodoth, the Followers of the Way soon had the ability to restore nearly all wounds, given enough Mana. Mana, the Pacifists remembered, grew eagerly on brother Raalmana's test subjects. Suffice to say, many Infused were convinced to aid the Pacifists in their service.
While many had taken up the teachings of the Way, many others simply wanted to get back to life. The Infused Wallowings found little practical use for their mutations, many dying in the Wilds. Some who had gotten back to the Wallows, were soon discovered by the Caretakers. The Infused Caretakers arrived soon after, bristling with arcanite. It did not take long for the rulers of the Cities to see what lay before them: a dependable source of magic and those able to use it. Within months, proper magic was introduced to the Citydwellers. In peace and war, a Caretaker mage would always have a retinue of at least three Battery Wallowings, ready to power the spells required by their master. Though acquiring the first Coloured Arcanite was difficult, the Guided were soon able to put it to use, improving their lives significantly. Of course, the copious emotions that the mages felt each time took a toll on some. Stoic creatures, some of the Caretakers simply died from the sudden burst of emotion that entered them. Others, more resilient, hardened up and went on with their Duty. With these new weapons, the Guided now had a powerful weapon against their adversaries.
As it would turn out, such magics soon became unnecessary. Seeing the wars that had consumed the races of the World, the Gods laboured to return it to peace. The Saint descended unto the mortal plane, surveyed the battlefields of the world and created the Automatons between the fighting forces. Emotionless and without need, they stood in between the armies of mortal and immortal alike. While a daunting obstacle, they did not stop the fighting completely. Others simply moved around them, using them as a wall. Others, capable of flight or simply of great height, went above them and continued the fight.
The Saint, however, was not finished yet. creating the simple Unsiege Magic, he ensured that sieges grinded to a halt. As most great settlements were built by the Guided, few but they received any use out of this. It did, however, become useful in the construction of buildings even at peacetime.
While the Saint acted from high above, the Feral Artist dealt with matters directly. Angered, depressed and rejected, he sought to steal away the leaders of all opposing sides. [3] What had not occurred to him was that there was no established leader amongst any of the civilisations of the world; no great emperor, theocrat or magister ruled over any race. Discovering this fact, the Artist decided to capture those who led the warriors in their battles, the generals and lieutenants. While it took many months, the Artist eventually had a menagerie of 28 war-leaders, decked in their finery. [2] Though a being of great power, the Artist had never attempted such arts before. And so, he succeeded, turning each into a visage of monstrous traits, no matter who saw or heard them.[4] The 28, seen as monsters from before the beginning of time, soon realised their fate. They were rejected by their peoples, beaten back with sword and arrow. With no other recourse but a slow death in the Wilds, most gave in to the illusion that surrounded them, becoming the monsters of tales and legends. Some would die quickly, others living to an old age. Some would reproduce, creating yet more "monstrous" offspring. In time, the world would see them as Boogiemen, creatures not of divine creation but from a time before the Sun.
While the Saint and Artist sought to stop the wars from occurring, or trying to make great tales, Pif-Ria decided to remove a side altogether. She changed the very nature of the Treemen, turning them into Willowmen. Creatures of the Vine, the Willowmen were given true understanding of the Singing Tower and their place in it. Though cursed in this life, they knew that in death they would become something greater. Though some continued with their raids, their new knowledge gave the Willowmen much to think about. They had, in essence, become future angels of Pif-Ria. They would inhabit her domain and take part in her Joy. As such, the Joy of the once-hated Wallowmen would result in ever greater benefits for the Willows. Many came to the decision to abandon their Bands, touring the world as entertainers or whatever else would bring happiness. There were casualties. Decades of raids had made many Wallowings hateful of the Treemen and their sudden change of heart, as beautiful as they were, was seen as suspicious. As the years passed, and the Willows continued their work, some saw the truth in their words, choosing to lay down their arms to engage in merrymaking. Others, ever aware of the dangers the world possessed, strove to uphold their duty to their people and their Cities.
The Cities, as decreed by the Protector, would no longer cast out those who were cursedby their mutations; now they would remain part of society. As with all changes, there were complications. All though the Caretakers had been ordered to treat them as any other Wallowing, this did not fellow Wallowings from discriminating against their maligned brethren. In nearly all situations, these Mutants became sequestered into ghettos or at the very least, forming the lowest classes of the cities.
High above the Cities, the Starborn had grown in number. In great flocks, their worship was now strong enough to empower Vodoth, their divine father.
While the Cities became ever more stratified and the Starborn grew in number, many Feral Tribes had embraced the Worship of He-Who-Gives-Thought; Kerikavae. All other gods were considered lesser, beings unequal to the Dead God. Vodoth merely a great Starborn. Pif-Ria a petulant child of the Void. Meoboroje an angel and nothing more. This blasphemy was of course outrageous to all civilised Wallowings who still remembered the First Songs, of the Child's Play, of the Sun's Glory and the Broken Aegis. And so, the Exodus began.
Wandering for years across the verdant Wilds of the World, the Exiles suffered many harsh tests to their faith. In time, they changed and mutated over their long journey, always on the move for a land they could call home. After many generations, they discovered the Mind of Cocea. It had Remembered clearly their Father's most recent message; to Guide and Teach. It went a step further, offering the Exiled a home to inhabit forevermore. And so, under the divine guidance of a Mind, the Exiled took the name of Cocea for their own, settling into worship the One God. As the years, passed, the Mind soon sculpted its wards into students; a society of scholars, of the written word and debate. The Cocean love for Knowledge soon became known throughout the World and in time, would go far beyond it...
And if the Cocean Heresy had sent shockwaves throughout civilised society, the Whispers from Around had caused eruptions. While no one knew of their origins or who had spoken of them at first, a sinister rumour soon circulated within all echelons of society. In hushed tones, people spoke of the Pif-Ria's Hell: the afterlife of all where they were to be ripped to pieces, with their Joys to be used for divine consumption. The Willowmen, those damned creatures that had spread ideas about a Joyful Afterlife, were soon once again figures of Hate by many Wallowings. Tensions were running high.
As such, when the Revolution began, all expected it. It was not an abrupt event that had occurred overnight, but was the culmination of generations of inequality, only sparked by the Lie of the Gods. The Commons, the Rebels, those who had always questioned the Caretakers rule, finally had enough. What purpose was there in subservience if even in the Afterlife, they would be the meals of the gods? They revolted, with spear and bow, calling for an end to slavery. They rallied, fought and bled. The cities, the great cities of the Golden Era, were put to the flame not by foreign invaders, but by their own nihilistic citizens. The Caretakers and the Loyalists, though armed with Runes and wealth, could not survive the Tide of Vine and Root that emerged from the slums, each uncaring about their lives. No matter their action, no matter their values, they would all be Damned.
A decade after the Revolution, the whole political landscape of the World had changed. The great cities were now smouldering ruins of what they had once been. While the Protector's magic had stopped the destruction of many of the structures, the Victory of the Commons saw anarchy for several years, with the great palaces and monuments torn down in hate for the damned Caretakers. Few of these former elites had survived and those that did only had the Saint's Automatons and the Starborn's Runes to thank. The Caretakers, never great in number, were all but extinct; a few individuals here and there ruling over a pitiful retinue of Loyalists, an Infused leading a life of the Way or on the run from their former subjects. The Eight Cities, as they were soon to be called, secluded themselves from the world, determined to outlast those who had ended their once great civilisation.
The Willowmen, the apostles of Pif-Ria, were soon insidiously hated by the so-called Free Wallowings. It became common for these creatures to be lynched, tortured and executed whenever they were sited. In time, only the Ferals and citizens of the Eight Cities would see them in a good light. Despite their setbacks, many Willowmen continued their duty, dying as martyrs for the Child Goddess.
The nihilists, victorious, came to inhabit the cities they destroyed or creating new settlements in the Wilds. No longer bound by the Gods, they decided to lead a new life without piety and without care. Ironically, some of these mistheists would be some of the most Joyful bricks of the Singing Tower. Regardless, the Free Wallowings were now without any real leadership or the wisdom of their overlords. It would take many eons for their civilisation to recover. By the Order of their Father however, the Minds stepped in. They offered Knowledge, Memories and Trade, leaving out Guidance for they Remembered what had happened to the Caretakers. With their aid, the Free Wallows would soon grow into replicas of the once great cities they had destroyed.
As the last embers of the Era subsided, the Artist laboured on a great edifice at the centre of the world. Built of stone, vine and metal, it contained great artworks that depicted the battles of the Era. The Ambush at Khalms, where 15 Ferals slaughtered an army. The Siege of Kaz, where a Flock of Starborn aided the sieging Treemen in taking the city. The Battle of Syrean, where a contigent of Caretaker mages fought underground for days against the Syrean Mind. Every inch of the monument was crawling in history of the Era, a Reminder of times long gone. In time, the Arena would replace these once great battles, or at least the Artist hoped.
The edifice completed, the Artist told all who could hear of its purpose; a place for disputes to be settled before war would be declared. Some joked that the Artist was far too late and that the World already was an Arena. In time, that joke became widespread, even resulting in the World itself becoming known as Arena.
[2] And just as the Era came to an end, Kerikavae glanced at the seeded arcanite and was dismayed; very little growth had occurred. Perhaps, in another Era, it would grow to what He Desired.
With that, the pages of History passed on to the next Era, a new age of discovery and innovation for all.
...
Far beyond the confines of the World, Vayros emerges from the Void, lured by the scent of knowledge.
Vayros, The Obsidian Ice, has come.
Raalmana learns more of the Wallowings and Caretakers. Wallowings incapable of using runes.
Pacifists accept Vodoth's knowledge. Are Infused. Recruit several Infused Wallowings and Caretakers to their cause.
Guided cities embrace Rune Magic.
Boogiemen created.
Starborn grow in number. Worship given to Vodoth.
Treemen transformed into Willowmen.
Large amount of Feral Wallowings form monotheistic religion around Kerikavae. Exiled and become Coceans.
Revolution of the Commons occurs. Caretakers nearly extinct. Guided Wallows split into Free Wallows and the Eight Cities.
The Arena is built.
The World is named Arena.
The Piety of the Wallowings Fall; Wallowing Worship Reduced.
Kerikavae: 0MA 1.5A
Meoboroje: 0MA 0.5A
Pif-Ria: 0MA 2.5A
Vodoth: 0MA 2.5A
Vayros: 1MA 1A
The Feral Artist: 1mA
Raalmana: 1mA
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Topic: Kalpa Reboot: A Gods' Game [Kalpa 1/Turn 5] (Read 16203 times)