[Self]: Btw, what the Heck is a Primordial?
A long time ago, the seventeen gods Spoke the Words, and thus the World was.
It was barren, so they Spoke of the forests and the seas, of the beasts and fish, and thus they were.
They Spoke of the fathers of Men, and thus were the Primordials, the striding giants, and of Men, and thus we were.
Satisfied, the gods turned their gazes away, and Spoke no more.
The Primordials were great in stature and power, and they too knew the Words. But man, pitiful and small, did not, and the Primordials took the will of the gods into their own hands. They taught Man the Words, and he rose above his station.
Man was not meant to Speak, and they grew clamorous. Eventually, one grew too arrogant, and Told the World "If I am not, be not." And when he no longer was, the world itself began to go silent. Sixteen gods saw this, and turned their gazes away, for they scorned their arrogant children.
One god, however, in his mercy, turned back.
To the World, he Said "World, cease your silence!" and it ceased.
For their foolishness in the teaching of Men, he Said to the Primordials "Primordials, live not!" and they did not live.
To man, for their arrogance in learning the Words, he Said "Man, the Words shall scorn you as you speak them! Never again will the World listen to you when you Speak!" And Man was struck for his arrogance. No longer could he speak the Words without their scorn, and no longer did the World listen to him when he Spoke.
In thanks and praise, Man formed the Church, and showed their devotion and penance. And the god saw this, and was pleased, and for the faithful he Spoke words of power, so they may show the way. But arrogance and sin still lurks in Man, and many still seek to learn the forbidden Words.
The Primordials were the originals. Each of them was unique, and they knew the Words. They were the ones who taught man the Words, and for this foolishness the seventeenth god slew them. That was a long, long time ago...
Now, their remains are the way mages access magic; their body parts are a potent source of magical energy, and using Primordial totems are the way mages trick the world into allowing them to use magic.
Action: Continue on!
Action: Also onward.
You head through the old gatehouse, more bronze-armoured figures standing by each of the iron-plated wooden gates, and find yourself in the University Ward square. A fountain in the centre sprays water high into the air - and the ornate stonework is nearly as tall as the Church giant standing next to the fountain. The metal-armoured mountain stands fifteen feet tall, and the helmet is bent towards the waterworks, watching the light dance in the spray.
The people here don't seem to be paying it much heed - well dressed, many clutches briefcases or sheaths of paper, they hurry between the towering brick buildings or sit at tables in cafes, talking animatedly with companions over steaming cups. The sounds of whirring machinery is thick in the background.
You hear Blessed Mary, the great bell of the Cathedral-Fortress, toll once, the clear peal ringing out over the hubbub of the city.
Kas pushes through the crowd as best he can, keeping one hand on his purse and the other on his sword hilt, towards the alleyway, and cautiously enters.
You shove your way through the crowd, electing a series of muttered curses and outraged sounds as you go, but no one seems willing to pick a fight.
The alley is shadowed from the sun, and surprisingly cool. The ground is coated with trash and the detritus of society - mouldy cloth, rotting scraps, mud, broken clay pipes. A half-dozen basement hatches line the sides, half buried under rubbish, but two of them gape like empty eyesockets. A rat scurries between them.
If there wasn't a beast, it's no longer in the alley, at least.
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Topic: Blessed Bronze 5e IC: A letter delivered (Read 10651 times)