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[Madman198237]

Hroar is a deity of the Tirith Anor

1.2
Hroar will offer all the death deities of the world with the ability to create and maintain an afterlife within his Plane, a place where many more souls can be preserved
from Tol Anath than any individual deity could do alone. They will share the power of these souls with me in exchange for the greater number of souls preserved, since these souls create those deities in the first place. His Champion will also be offered to aid these deities in spreading their word....while also spreading the myths and belief in the Tirith Anor.

He does this in order to preserve the world in accordance with the goals of the Tirith Anor.

For the rest of the events, Hroar will support the remainder of the Tirith Anor.

Spoiler: Hroar (click to show/hide)

Name/Description: Hroar, the shattered remnants of a deity that came closer than most to succumbing to the Aegis. Usually appears like someone who is dead or dying, the particular appearance changing wildly even while you look at him.
Domain: Afterlife, Souls and Death
Plane Name/Description: Valta, a somewhat scattered realm with shards of afterlives influenced by the beliefs present across the world, with souls wandering the shards. The bare remnants of weak-willed fools wander next to the shades of ancient kings and the mighty souls of great heroes.
Power:1
What do you require to summon your presence?: Attempts to cheat death in any way, murder large numbers of people, or save people from death will all attract his attention, very negatively.

[Taricus]

WIP Turn

Action (Event 1.1)
The Chained Lord's influence in the fall of Eurendil was that of a subtle one. The three claimaints were, in his eyes all oathbreakers and bond sunderers. For them, no authority, no rulership was to be granted to them. In this, he mobilised his cultists in Eurandil, and bade them to deny the claimants; it was never them that made the city of the west great, and their actions have sundered it from greatness, cursed to every be ignoble in history. To this end, he called out for these cultists to leave the city and convince others to do so, take all that they owned and leave the warring claimants with nothing.

Action (Event 1.2)

Action (Event 1.3)

Spoiler: The Chained Lord, Outer God of Order (click to show/hide)

Name: The Chained Lord
Description: The Chained Lord, as befitting the name, is a humanoid entity bound with layers upon layers of chains. In spite of the unusual garb, he has no trouble on moving, and is seemingly strengthened by each and every chain forged and attached.
Domain: Order (Slavery, Authority)
Plane Name: Arkonis
Description: Arkonis is a wonderous, and well-sculpted realm. Here, thousands upon thousands of souls are bound in chain and put to work serving their master, expanding the realm little by little, and sculpting it according to his wishes. For those fortunate enough to be scions of authority the lord of order recognises their skills and imbues them with the power to oversee his legions of slaves and servants. For the dutiful slave, the realm is a reprieve, for now their service is to the chained lord himself.
Power: 1
What do you require to summon your presence?: To bind oneself in chains, and submit to the authority of the Outer Lord of Order

[micelus]

Event 1.1

Vasov persuades Khasadar to seduce Zeraphis and Amas and take them as his spouses. They shall found the House of Warriors who will protect the people of Khasadar.

With succour was the House of the Three greeted by open chance, for with squabble and kin-ties sundered did Destiny find itself called. Calling to Khasadar Truth-Matron, Vasov said thusly:

"Make your wife and husband of the claimants of the land that which lies in the sun's abode, where it rests each day and allows the moon to rule. Zeraphis and Amas are their names, the former skilled in the hunt and the latter in war. With your tongue, guile, beauty and fate, pleasure-intoxicate their senses and entice them to your side and discourage them from their Follies in the West. Instead, entice them with Glory in the East. They shall be founders of the Warrior House, which shall defend the Nation of the East. From their minds and womb and arms shall, the duty of protection fall. Duty of honour, of pity and of compassion, but so too their opposites of treachery, cruelty and indfference. By balance of spear and shield, shall they carry their burden thus, and ensure the Betterment of all."

Event 1.3

Vasov whispers words of Creation's tale. Potentially true, Potentially false, the weaves of the past were now unloosened without the utterings of the Guardians upon the world.

Spoiler: A Possible Creation Myth (click to show/hide)

There are many stories of Creation, many led by Truth, many by lies.. This is but one of them.

In the aeon before time had become straight, there existed the Prime Satrapy. Its inhabitants were the primeval spirits, ruled by Padishah-That-IS-and-WAS. This being was advised by the Celestial Coterie, who were 14 in number.

Loves-Fully, who held position as consort and bard

Freedom-At-Dawn, who held position as vizier.

Weaves-In-Truth, who held position as seamstress and meal.

Strong-Thought, who held position as thane and executioner.

Tyrant-Of-Worth, who held position as general.

Seven-Siblings, who acted as knights for the Padishah-That-IS-and-WAS.

For existences uncountable, the Prime Satrapy remained the same, and all were content under the enlightened rule of Padishah-That-IS-and-WAS. One day however, Padishah-That-IS-and-WAS felt discontent. He first thought to subdue his emotions in the embrace of Loves-Fully, who entertaind him with the magics of the lungs and belly. Though pleasured greatly, he still was not content. He then thought to distract himself in the matters of rigtheous war, fighting the eternal threats of Instability and Chaos (which we do not name). But Tyrant-Of-Worth and Strong-Thought both sensed their master's lack of focus and counselled him to retire to his palace. There, he paced the infinite gardens and halls, slowly sinking into a great depression. It was then that he asked Freedom-at-Dawn if he could think of a method to remove his affliction. The vizier considered his predicament and suggested a hobby (for this reason are their incarnations Gia and Liberum associated with leisure).

So it was that Padishah-That-IS-and-WAS sat down to try the many crafts. Pottery, finagling, painting, gibbering  hunting, vibrating, slithering, writing and many others. Still, he felt discontent. Eventually, he decided to sit down in his parlour and eat of Weaves-In-Truth. Weaves-In-Truth had taken to the form of a herd of livestock of myriad forms (such as the tomahen or riga) and from its own wool and silk, did work the loom of unordered time. Cutting at its haunches (presently composed of goats), Padishah-That-IS-and-WAS questioned his meal as to why he thought he could not find contentedness. Weaves-In-Truth (who's haunches grew back quite quickly) opined that it was because what he had been doing lacked meaning. There was no significance or matter to anything, for in the timeless state, there was no risk or predicament. The Padishah took a bite of Waves-in-Truth's wings and thought "this is true". He rose and beckoned his Coterie.

He announced to them that it was now the moment from which Time would be straightened and seamed, something to which all his Coterie did agree to. Firstly, a minature creation would be crafted in order to show the feasibility of such a happening. Freedom-At-Dawn as such crafted from the bodies of the infant kalpas that had ceased, a a mirror that at times appeared to be a snake. It was granted name (but not title); Levion. For to grant it title was to recognise its status.

Padishah-That-IS-and-WAS gazed into the mirror-snake and uttered his wish of Creation. Within the mirror the fundament was formed, devised by Freedom-At-Dawn, fed by Weaves-In-Truth, enlivened by Loves-Fully and ordered by Tyrant-Of-Worth. As the fundament was within Levion, the time fundament was a figment of time and was thus within its confines. It was thusly so that the first seconds did pass, which by the reckoning  of those in the Prime Satrapy, was indistinguishable from an eternity or moment. Perplexed, Padishah-That-IS-and-WAS commanded the Seven-Siblings and Tyrant-Of-Worth to enter the confines of Levion and observe the confusions of time.

They returned in an aeon-moment, haggard but full of life. They reported in huffs and pauses that time was beautiful in its novelty, that its simplicity touched their soul-strings and that all should make visit into the fundament that was inside time. And so, they did. And for a time, the Padishah-That-IS-and-WAS was happy.

For aeons, the Padishah-That-Is-and-Was enjoyed the sensation of time, leaving the timeless Prime Satrapy in the control of his Coterie. Putting a hold to the task of implementing Time in the Prime Satrapy,  tt was Freedom-At-Dawn and Tyrant-Of-Worth who commanded most fully the responsibilities and duties of their master's fief in his absence. For many aeons, all was well.

 However, one day, Loves-Fully peered into the mirror-snake Levion and saw the fundament to be different than it had once been. There existed now life and the ancestors of the people who now inhabit the world. Loves-Fully said this to Freedom-At-Dawn, who thought that quite odd. Freedom-At-Dawn then queried Weaves-In-Truth who did say that the only such cause for the existence of people would be the spark of the Prime Satrapy. That is, the essence of its denizens. Perplexed, Freedom-At-Dawn entered Levion and asked Padishah-That-IS-and-WAS how he had created the people. He answered, from people. Confused, Freedom-At-Dawn asked for clarification and was told that volunteers from the Prime Satrapy had given of their being to create these fascimile people-antecedents.

Having received an answer, Freedom-At-Dawn thought nothing of it for a time. It was only later when he did notice the halls of the Prime Satrapy to be lessened of traffic that he did make enquiries. Questioning Weaves-In-Truth, Freedom-At-Dawn was told to observe and see the activities of Strong-Thought, which the vizier did. It was with horror that he sighted the thane extinguishing the life of the lesser beings of the Prime Satrapy and throwing them into the snake-mirror Levion. Taking him at spear-point, he demanded an answer for such foul murder to which the thane replied that their mutual master had demanded it. Aghast, he forced Strong-Thought to utter the 168 terrored oaths and to his shock, saw that the thane had uttered no falsehood. Freedom-At-Dawn approached his master and requested to comprehend the morality of such action; he received answers uncomely and aloof. In hushed whisper did he circulate in the Satrapy the gloried words of coup, acquiring allies amongst high and low to resist the tyranny of Padishah-That-IS-and-WAS. Of the Coterie, he only gained at first the Weaves-in-Truth, who did come to join the plot without sloth. Still, they lacked number and this caused great melancholy in the vizier. Weaves-In-Truth comforted him with her flesh and did explain that they would find victory.

In secret, Weaves-In-Truth approached the loyal of Padishah-That-IS-and-Was and turned them towards betrayal.

Approached firstly the Seven-Siblings, Weaves-In-Truth convinced the senior of the brothers (who would later be known as Orist and Rhorist), by means of conceit. She offered them tunics of red-wool and yellow-flax socks which in actuality, bore fragments of Truth. For this reason, they came to exhibit the most hidden of truths and their abject opposites, becoming Truth in themselves.

Weaves-In-Truth then ingested the Mercury-Poppy, which turned her flesh reddened and alluring. She then fed on the Grass of Thirds (which had been formed from the being of the Radial Root), which made her flesh sleep-inducing. When Tyrant-Of-Worth descended to the kitchens for dinner, he fed upon the changed flesh of Weaves-In-Truth and suspected nothing, even as he did drift into the state of sleep. Weaves-In-Truth did then dance upon the soul of Tyrant-Of-Worth, dividing the parts from him that were of Worth and those that were of his baseness. That which was of Worth would one day come to be called Aviel whilst that which encapsulated Order was thrown into the dungeons and wrapped in bondange, becoming known as Chained-Lord. With merry half-prophecies did Weaves-In-Truth convince Aviel to part her loyalty from that of her body-sibling, allowing herself to separate her body from the Chained-Lord, taking on a form more suitable for her being. Thankful for her clarity, she did thus join in the coup.

Having gathered these allies, the five gathered to end Padishah-That-Is-and-Was' madness.

First they were stopped by Loves-Fully, who pleaded that they end their coup (and is a saga in itself). Though tearful, Freedom-At-Dawn lanced them with his spear and had them restrained.

Second then were they ambushed by the rest of the Seven-Siblings (Eo The Woman-Brother, Hearthwright-Bellied, Njarus Who-Moves-Like-Jagger, Theodore Elf-Wife and Who-Is-Like), who were fought to their dooms (and is a tale in of itself). Though the plotters were successful, Rrhorist was slain in battle. To ensure that he survived, Orist cannibalised his sibling's being, sharing his body with his brother's soul. For this reason is Orist two-faced and sometimes Rrhorist.

Third did they then encounter Strong-Thought who did guard the snake-mirror Levion. Boasting of their folly, Strong-Thought shed his Civil Being and revealed his Million-Form, which rightly held the powers of death and souls. The battle was one fought not but physically, but in their souls (and is a story in itself). Still, Strong-Thought showed weakness and foolishly allowed Freedom-At-Dawn to feed itself to one of his maws, sickening and cursing the loyal thane. His once brilliant form was made like death that he wielded; a ragged thing almost dead itself lacking in the warrior-being of what it had been. A horror of a being, this would one day be called Hroar.

Securing the snake-mirror Levion, the plotters enacted forbidden rituals and incantations upon the fundament within, trapping Padishah-That-IS-and-WAS within the fundament. Though at first thinking they had claimed victory, the plotters soon learnt their folly. Quickly did they realise the trap of their once-master. As they chanted the last of the incantations did they take notice that by doing so, they had activated the wards of the Prime Satrapy itself and it was then there came quandary. By the activation of the wards, the Prime Satrapy itself would be destroyed.

Freedom-At-Dawn, aghast, chose to fight and did try most hardly to stop their activation. The rest of the plotters, seeing the starkness of the situation, entered the snake-mirror Levion. Without support or strength, Freedom-At-Dawn was ripped apart and with him, the Prime Satrapy was no more.

However, not all was lost. Perhaps being the plan of Padishah-That-IS-and-WAS all along, Freedom-At-Dawn found himself within the fundament, but in two bodies. That which was derived of his innovation, and the other of his status. The former would come to be known as Gia, whilst the other became known as Liberum.

Orist, Aviel and Weaves-In-Truth emerged into the fundament intact, although Weaves-In-Truth found her title weakened and rendered void, coming to call itself Vasov instead.

Loves-Fully, who had been restrained, too found its powers lessened, coming to be known as Phos instead.

Hroar emerged, with a mind that was not as shackled to loyalty as before.

Chained-Lord, who escaped from restraint with title rather than name, awakened in the fundament hungering for power.

Queerly too did the snake-mirror itself incarnate in the fundament, which was itself within Lexion.

All felt confusion with this state of affairs and in that time there was great chaos and upheavel. In time however, all agreed that the Prime Satrapy was indeed, no more. All its denizens and materia were now within the confines of time and now made up the fundament, at the centre of which was Padishah-That-IS-and-WAS. Bound by the incantations and chants of the plotters, even its dreams would affect the world. Should it awaken, great chaos would come and endanger the new world.

This is how the world came to be and how the Outer Lords came to exist.

Spoiler: Outer Lord Vasov (click to show/hide)

Name/Description: Vasov, An androgynous bipedal yak with 158 teats and 158 legs, Vasov's face is alluringly beautiful to all who look upon it. The throat of Vasov contains within itself a pharyngeal jaw, which Vasov brings out to speak and eat in deeper tones. Kept neatly tucked in within Vasov's cheeks are a pair of arms with which she uses to grasp and gesture. Vasov's teeth are sharp like a canine. Whilst taking the form of a yak for his own amusement, Vasov appears to many people in many forms. Vasov is draped in a coat of ivory-coloured silk, that upon it bears a red and black sigil.
Domain: Major= Destiny, Minor= Fate, Order
Power:1
Plane Name/Description: The Opulent Miasma is a series of many interconnected rooms that are decorated and furnished as if they were part of a palace. Not of the same palace, but of many myriad palaces from all sorts of technological eras and cultures. Some are waterlogged swamps with polished marble stone benches, some are carpeted with the finest of flax and lit by roaring fires. There exists gardens, ponds, dungeons, guardhouses and hovels across the Miasma, all reflecting the myriad opulences of many possibilities. However, there is but one throne room. At the very centre of the Miasma is a simple stone dais, itself upon a small step pyramid. Nothing sits upon it and any who dares does so finds that they cannot leave it. A faint purple fog permeates throughout the Miasma, which can be toxic to non-residents.
What Do You Require to Summon you Presence?: A part of one's body bloodied by one's own liquids or wealth [not just currency, but food, pets or things of sentimental value] considered significant by the applicant. An ally, who freely gives their life, or one who is sacrificed without their knowing. An enemy or their kin or allies. Any of these are acceptable. The completion of a grand destiny is a road of sacrifice, not one walked with ease.

[micelus]

{F L U F F}

In the dawning age, it was said that the gods walked the land and taught animals to be animals and men to be men. Of course, the truth of the matter is that the Guardians - servants of Tol Anath- were responsible for such feats, but this has not stopped the spread of myths and fables. Some are half-truths, whilst others are simply stories. Below are three relating to the Outer Lord known as Vasov.

The Story of How the People Befriended the Cattle (a story from the Umsi People)

In the early days of our people when we were still half-men, there was a lot of trouble. We had just left the Old Place where our ancestors first emerged from the caves and found that in the cold plains, there was little we knew. There were few trees to fuel our fires with. The deer were quicker and more aloof, and the boars were as likely to eat men as they were to eat grass. Some of the people said that we should return to the Old Place, even if the spirits of the forests still hated us. Others said that we should sacrifice those kin who had offended the spirits in the first place. For this reason, some did go back to the Old Place, becoming the Turuki people.

One of those who remained was the shaman Eskui. His sister had offended the spirits by burning a branch that had been a spirit's lover and so, he refused to return to the Old Place. Instead, he prayed. Not to the spirits (for they would no longer entertain his call after his rudeness to their forest cousins), but to higher beings. And one did answer.

In front of him appeared a giant creature of many legs, shaggy of hair and large of brow. With black fur and great twisting horns, Eskui was afeared but not surprised by its presence. He knew the name and shape of the creature that had appeared to him and gesticulated (in those days, the Outer Lords could still traverse the world easily for the borders between us and their heavenly realms had not yet been birthed) to Vasov.

Vasov asked "For why, kin of the Wosui Branch-Stealer, do you summon me?"

Eskui replied "Oh great god, I ask for your help for my people are pitiful and full of sin, but we do not desire to relinquish our kin. Please, help us live."

Vasov stared at Eskui with her big black eyes and sighed. "Your people are lowly, but your sin is no sin against mine. Of my form I shall feed you, as I have fed others before"

Vasov stood up on 48 legs and moaned the Six-Song of the Yak, speaking with throat and nose and mouth. As she did so, her stomach bulged and she did dance. From her nethers did emerge a herd of cattle, shaggy like her and fully grown.

Eskui was perplexed, for in those days the Umsi ate only the meat of two-toed animals or those that dwelled in trees. "Oh great god, these children of yours are bountiful and many, but how shall this save my people?"

Vasov did say "They shall be like deer to you, but better. They will not fear you, but neither will they attack you. They shall feed you and clothe you and warm you and empower you. From their meat and bone, shall you find sustenance. From their fur shall you make clothes to ease the tough winds and frigid cold. from their skulls shall you create totems to quicken your shamans. From their dung will you make your homes and feed your fires. In return my children seek only protection from the dangers of the world and grass to feed upon, for they are good-hearted people."

Eskui thanked Vasov and introduced his people to the gift she had provided them. Ever since, we have treasured our cattle and tended to them, even as they offer their bodies to our survival.

How Tatchshana Became Civilised (a story known taught only in the Woman Societies of the Urgish People)

When spirits still walked the land, the world was a dangerous place. Men were lowly creatures, sharing their homes with boar and monkey.

One day, the goddess Vasov was walking in the jungle, where she encountered a woman fighting over a dirtspider with her neighbour, lion. They were both animals without ideal, only desire to eat. Vasov found this curious and watched. Whilst the lion was stronger than the woman, the woman had the spark of cunning in her and did throw dirt into the eyes of the lion. In that moment she was able to take the dirtspider and run off to her den. Vasov was curious and followed her. She saw how the woman slowly picked out the spider's dangerous hairs and cut away her fangs, eating only the parts that she knew she could eat without dying. Vasov was impressed. She tried to speak the woman, but received only hisses and grunts, for the woman didn't know better. Displeased, Vasov thought to punish her. However, she paused and realised it folly to try and take vengeance on an animal. So, she blessed the woman with personhood.

The woman was now a person and knew the error she had committed by insulting a goddess. She prayed that she would be returned to her animal-self and that she would not hiss at a goddess again. Vasov told the woman that the Truth of the matter was that Vasov had not given her intellect solely to punish her, but also to engreaten her. The woman was confused but listened.

Vasov explained that she had walked in the jungle that day to choose from amongst the denizens of the land which animal would be worthy of ruling the land, for the gods had found the rule of the spirits to be chaotic and with little purpose. Vasov saw the cunning of the woman that day and saw the care she had given to her survival. As such, she believed humans to be fit to rule the jungle and thus would raise them to personhood.

Vasov named the woman Tatchshana and enlightened her, showing her the secret arts derived from the spider. These became the Woman-Arts of Sewing, Seaming and Seeming (which are still secret to men).

How Vasov Taught Us To Survive the Winter (a story told by many peoples in the southern plains)

In the years of Great Chief Utlig, there was a time of great cold. The crops of our ancestors died and the many shrubs and trees of the steppe did not bloom with fruit or berry or twig. Many animals had migrated or died, and we had only our goats left. As everyone knows, a goat can survive anything in the world; we cannot.

And so, many of us died. From starvation, disease, other tribes or kinstrife. With so little food, there was bound to be much trouble. We were lucky in that we still had goats at all. Many tribes had eaten theirs already. It was only because we had so many that we had not eaten them all. Still, it was the middle of winter and we were bound to die if we did not eat them, and bound to die later afterwards. There was much debating on what should be done, but then the shaman Ganva announced that the goddess Vasov had planted a suggestion in her head. She told them that rather than eat the goats, they should sustain themselves on their blood. The people were  ambivalent, but then the shaman explained the reasoning.

"The leech feeds on the foot and thigh of the unwary and grows fat of it, but does not kill its prey. It can eat again and again as long as someone steps into its home. If we did the same, as our goddess Vasov suggests, we can survive winter."

Whilst there was division, Great Chief Utlig eventually decided that they had little choice. For the rest of the winter, they did as Vasov suggested, drinking goat blood rather than killing them. Due to this, the tribe did not experience any further losses from starvation, even as other tribes died. For this reason do we still drink blood and make many foods from it.

[Rahx]

1.1 Event

Levion is a deity of the Tirith Anor

Levion gazes through the endless images, following line to line of possibilities.

"The others act and new gods exist... the first upon the throne must pass, but the second must be there. The collection of humanity must last a little longer; the rampage will take too much."

Levion's 'arms' stretch out and fold to reverse the flow of images.

After a few moments the image ceases on a reoriented Nalu. She has not been wasting her time. The 'creation' of profits for a local bar in Eurendil amuses Levion, her presence more than enough to be a well paid barmaid. Small steps.

While no taller than the average, she borderlines mythical levels of physical desire. Some believe she is a perfect doll. Oh how right they would be if they knew of her power to painfully rebuild herself after all. It was only recent she discovered she can observe the reconstruction without losing focus and correct errors.

Not too weak, but not too strong, not too tall, but not too short, not too fat, but not too thin, excluding the right areas. While it sounds average, the detail is most certainly not. Flawless and envious of the other villagers by comparison.

Her black hair and eyes of pale blue dance around keeping up with the demands of customers, and avoiding the others who would hamper her stride.

On her chest, or rather tucked within her ample bosom, a simple altered icon of her old icon of worship wrapped, almost seemed bound, by the infinity symbol.

Nalu feels it burn within, not anything harmful, but enough for her to notice.

After serving her recent customer; she exits to the back to get more refreshments as time around her slows. When the co-worker offers her the next batch of refreshments she has already been changed to a black, red trim corset dress with accompaning pantyhose. Her wrists adorn with a onyx helix jewelry. The right wrist doubles as a clock. Her nails polished in ruby red. Her footsteps click past the frozen co-worker into The Infinity's Gaze, now in red high heels.

"Master, it is so good to hear from you! I was not expecting you to call me until I was-"

Levion interrupts in a humanoid masculine muscular form, his black and red royal lord uniform, medals of varying clocks and icons of the infinite.

"I have a very important task for you, my hard earning maid."

Blushing, Nalu stands attention.

"I doubt I have to explain that you are not the only chosen among other players of this timeline, but we have an opportunity and a deal. While it pains me to pull you away from your hard work establishing your renown, this may shorten the time to achieve that goal."

"What is it you command, Master?"

"There are two others you must gather, no three! The method does not matter for they know who they serve. You will provide proof with this-" Levion holds up a medallion of the Tirith Anor "-they will recognize it and immediately contact their masters. After introductions, or 'introductions' if a fight does break out, all, but one, will infiltrate the royal area in Eurendil, of Amara of the Hureniui. Rescue Amara, the firstborn, after her sibling strikes. Beware of all the siblings. Beware of any other mortal who sees your group. Seduce, or bribe, I care not. The news of her 'passing' must be spread. When the time comes, Amara will rise to the throne. Spread the word of Tirith Anor with the other two-"

"But master, what about spreading your word and gathering the worthy for your
wonderful gifts?"

Levion, sighing, utilizes The Infnity's Gaze to close the gap between him and Nalu, standing over her, and holding the medallion between them.

"My dear, there is plenty of time for you to found the first of endless churches, but first comes the Tirith Anor." Levion lowers the medallion into Nalu's hands. "As I was saying, the third is an exception to the warning about the guardians. Only find 'it' after Amara is saved, not a moment sooner. It is a construct with golden mechanical wings." As Nalu clasps the Medallion between her palms, "Time is of the essence, and please drop the 'master' calling." He straightens up and forces Nalu back into her barmaid uniform, back into the bar's work area. She hastily pockets the medallion, in order to grab the refreshments, and carry on her day.

Spoiler: Levion's profile (click to show/hide)

Name: Levion
Description: To mortals, a mirror view of any moments possible in time, for good or ill. To the other outer lords, A being mixed of flesh, metal, and magic that changes its look on how it sees fit. Always has either a clock, an Ouroboros, or another representation of time/infinity.

Domain: Time, Creation, Destruction

Plane Name: The Infinity's Gaze
Description: A simple room with the feeling of an endless void staring at you. Kind of like space but breathable. You can even see the world you live on if you ask Levion nicely. Can give "predictions" of the future or give a history lesson if you can interpret Levion's controls of the room's image. Levion speaks to mortals in its true form while they are in the room (if that is possible).

Power:1
What do you require to summon your presence?: Items that depict endless possibilities or being endless in of itself, such as the infinity symbol. Prerequisite of intending to contact Levion.

[Glass]

Gia is a deity of the Tirith Anor

1.1
They were breathing. They weren’t aware of much, but that was something. It meant they were alive. Probably? Wait, why would this be a revelation?
There’s voices around them. Indistinct, faded. An edge of panic? No, wait. Relief. There had been panic, but it was gone now.

Someone pushed on her shoulder. Yes, her, that was one of the things she’d been forgetting. Wait, that wasn’t important. Well, it probably was, but for later. There was someone prodding her-

“Hey. Hey, miss. Wake up.”

Oh, she could hear again. That was good. ‘Wake up.’ Right, that. Her eyes were closed. She opened them.
There were three figures over her, one much closer than the others – pretty much on top of her, actually. She couldn’t make out details, still too blurry.

“Great, you’re awake!” The figure over her sounded satisfied with themselves. Their voice was high-pitched. Wait, they were closer to her, but they took up the same space in her vision as the others – ah. A child. Wait, huh?

“Get up, Nelius. She doesn’t need you in her face.” Female. It still wasn’t clear which of the other two figures had spoken – though her vision was clearing further. It was evident that both of the other people were women, though clearly different ones.
Whichever one had spoken, the child – Nelius? – respected their word enough, and practically rolled off her. The child had a name. Shouldn’t she? Yes, she should, but she couldn’t remember right now. Was that a problem?

Wait, she could see again. Properly, not just blurs and the like. Nelius was wearing mostly grey, though there were accents in inky blacks and sky blues, the latter mostly in diamond patterns. He had messy black hair, and, curiously, a pair of metal cylinders holding glass circles in them held together by a leather strap was perched on his forehead. He was also holding some cloth bandages, for some reason.
One of the women above her – she thinks they were likely the one that talked – was definitely older than the child, closer to her own age. Wait, how old was she? No, that was for later. Her limbs were tingling, she couldn’t feel that earlier. That was probably bad, but it was better than not feeling them, she thought. Wait, the woman. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Pretty, but nothing extraordinary. Her clothing, though, was bright – a pale blue robe, a short cloak only able to be called gold, and a bright green sash around her waist. She was looking at Nelius with amusement.
And the other woman… well. She was… not wearing nearly as much as the others, for one. Prominently red, with some black. And she had larger… assets. Than the other woman. Her hair was black – like Nelius’, though much better cared-for – and her eyes were a pale blue, like the other woman’s. Could she be their mother? No, that didn’t make sense. Siblings, maybe? Siblings could be very different. Violently so, even.
Wait, where did that thought come from?

They’d been speaking while she took everything in. Nelius looked over at her, made a thoughtful face, and extended a hand down to her. Wait, she could move her arm. Right. She tried to sit up.
It didn’t work. Nelius valiantly failed to suppress a giggle.
She took the proffered hand, and the child managed to drag her to a sitting position.

They were next to a castle, she noticed. A ruined one. She’d actually been laying next to it, but now she found her back to it – keeping her from falling backwards again, she supposed. Every other direction was forest. She could hear water bubbling somewhere nearby.

“So, hey! I’m Nelius, you heard that. Wait, how many fingers am I holding up?” He put his hand barely inches from her face, two fingers extended. While she processed what was going on, the colorful woman smacked his hand down.
“How many times am I going to have to tell you to stop doing that?”
“Aw, c’mon, it works!”
The other woman finally spoke – well, made a noise. A short bark of a laugh, at least. The first woman just rolled her eyes, though she had a smile on her face.

Nelius continued. “So yeah, I’m Nelius, miss ‘stop that’ is Clíodhna – weird name, I know, and don’t worry about her, she acts far stricter than she is – and she,” he points a thumb at the other woman, “is Nalu. We’re the champions of the Tirith Anor!”
He smiled, as if this explained everything. The two- Clíodhna and Nalu looked at each other with moderately exasperated looks. She sat there, processing the words for a minute.

The natural question came. “Wha-” COUGH. Ah. She’d found her voice, but it was a bit damaged. She kept coughing.
Nelius looked alarmed, but Nalu just pulled a wineskin from her side, opened it, and offered some to her. She tried to grab it, but her arms were too weak; Nalu eventually just poured some into her mouth. She finally spoke. “Is that better? This seems to have been difficult on you. It’s actually the first time something like this has been done.”

She caught her breath and voice, and the question finally came. “What- you said your names. What is m- oh.” Oh. Ow. Her head was aching.
Amara. Her name was Amara. What did that mean?

“Oh. Um.” Nalu looked nonplussed. Nelius was hyperventilating a bit, though Clíodhna was trying to calm him down. Amara tried to reassure them. “I- I remembered. Sorry.” It seemed to work.

“O-okay. This is… not expected, definitely less than ideal, but, uh, we can probably fix it?” Nelius is putting on a brave face. “Um, I mean, what can you remember?”

Amara thinks. “My… my father died. Recently? Yes, recently. That was important. Like, not just to me. Important to everyone. Why? Um… he was an important person. We were important people. I had siblings? Three. Three siblings.” Here eyes widen. “The king is dead! The king is my father? I need to- why am I not in Eurendil? Where is this?” And like a switch, she is angry. “Feldron, what have you done?!” She tries to push herself up, to stand – and she gasps in pain, as she feels a sharp sting in her stomach. She looks down. It’s covered in bandages. Like the ones Nelius had been holding. Was still holding.
“What happened?” And then, “how am I not dead?”

Clíodhna started. “In the very formation of the world, there was nothing with sol-“ Nalu elbowed her in the ribs. “We don’t need to go that far back.” She then turned toward Amara. “What happened is you didn’t die when you were murdered. The Tirith Anor rescheduled that.”

The ‘Tirith Anor’ again. “Who are they?”
Nelius shoved his way back to the front. “I’m glad you asked! They’re just the absolute best gods in existence! Especially Gia! Though I admit I may be biased, being their champion after all!” Their smile was wider than anything, and they were practically preening. “I’m certain Nalu would tell you Levion was the best-”
“Of course, he made me Ageless.”
“-and Clíodhna would probably say th-”
“Phos is a hardheaded, longwinded, unfocused mess who I practically need to manage on a day-to-day basis if he’s going to accomplish anything.” She said it without any rancor, more like a line from a script.
Nelius leaned toward Amara conspiratorially, and did a stage whisper. “She won’t admit it, but she wants to kiss him. They want to kiss each other. They just act like that to each other because they need to go through their character arcs. It’s all very silly.” It was said in the most serious tone the child could muster, and entirely ruined by the blatant humor in their body language. Clíodhna just huffed.

Ok. That was a lot to take in. Baby steps. One thing at a time.
“What do you mean, they ‘rescheduled that’? Rescheduled my death?”

Nalu was the one to respond. “Yes. Levion is the god of time. Your death was not set in stone, merely the appearance of it. It was trivial to change it. Hroar was not terribly happy – they prefer dead things remain dead – but they were willing to turn a blind eye given the circumstances and benefits, especially since you were not, technically, being resurrected. That is also why their champion is not here; it was considered best if they remained away from this situation, so as to have… plausible deniability on the matter.”
“So I was dead.”
“No, you were not. That didn’t happened anymore.”
Ok.

“So… Levion is the god of time. Hroar is death related? Who are Gia and Phos?”
It’s Clíodhna who responds this time. “Not only time, creation and destruction as well. Hroar’s domain is particularly matters of the afterlife, with souls and, yes, death being secondary. Phos covers stories, and heroes and dreams, surprising when he never fucking sleeps even when-”
“AAAAaaaanyways,” Nelius interrupted her. “Gia is all about change, plus innovation and self-determinism! Which is why I’m the person who knows how to treat wounds!”
She wasn’t going to question the child. They’d apparently sufficiently bandaged a stab wound in her stomach from her younger brother, she wasn’t going to question how. She’d had her death ‘rescheduled’, there were far more pressing concerns than a child practicing medicine. One of them far more than any others.

Amara thought. And she asked. “What do we do now?”
The three champions looked at each other, and smiled. They looked back.
“We reclaim your kingdom, of course.”

The support of the champions of the Tirith Anor, as well as Solidueum, Gia's Guardian, will be given to Amara - the true heir of the High Seat - that she may return to her rightful position, and rule Eurendil through a golden age.

Spoiler: Solidueum (click to show/hide)

Its base form is leonine at its core, but where moss once covered it, a thin layer of fine white crystals grow, or copper wires long gone green cross over each other; where the stone is exposed, either due to being bare or under a gap in the wires, cracks can be seen, stuck back together with oil. One of its eyes looks like it was once clawed out, but the scratch was filled in with silver, and the crystal eye in that socket weeps with a thin but persistent stream of oil. The stone of its back leg clearly shows that it was destroyed, smashed, almost in its entirety; a crystal nub is attached where it ends, smoothing it, and arcing lightning connects that nub with a matching one, on a replacement bronze leg, a work of intricate cogwork, which perpetually releases warm steam from a number of vents. It walks with a slight limp due to this.
Finally, triumphantly, its back bears a pair of magnificent gold-and-crystal wings, mechanical, but looking as graceful as life. These are attached to a harness, and are wholly original; there is nothing on its body to suggest that their original form included any such structures.
This is Solidueum, and they teach to mortals the knowledge of the Clockworks. They were broken - still are - but they are greater for it.

Spoiler: Gia (click to show/hide)

Name/Description: Gia. The core of their body is made of oil, with various appendages emerging as needed, made of crystal and/or metal (though always connected to the core by a black strand); their favored for for interacting with mortals has steel arms, wings made of an array of multicolored crystals, and a silver head with blue crystal eyes. Lightning sparks across any metal extensions, while steam drifts off of the crystals.
Domain: Change (Invention, Self-determinism)
Plane Name/Description: The Clockworks - an endless landscape of perpetually-moving mechanisms, constantly changing its shape. Those who are intelligent can find the patterns, and the more familiar one becomes with the patterns, the more easily can make their way across the domain; those who are true experts may even find hidden locations, while the lost and confused can easily become lost in an endless labyrinth or get caught in the machines and perish. The location is also home to a variety of mechanical creatures - more curious than anything else, being unneeding of sustenance, but potentially very dangerous if threatened.
Power: 1
What do you require to summon your presence?: A unique creation being made in my name, or an assertion of one’s will against an overwhelming power.

[Kilojoule Proton]

Action 1.1:
Pending (probably minor)

Action 1.2:

Action 1.3:

Spoiler: Why We Die When We Die (click to show/hide)

In the untime of the beginning, the sea, sky, and soil were one great Egg. And in One Perfect Moment, the Egg shattered into many spirits. Some were larger than Mount Thorn, and some were smaller than grains of sand, and all was inharmonious and discordant.

So it was that the Principle of Stuff gathered together a large collection of spirits to submit themselves to the One Law. However, many, including the Principle of Not, dissented and abandoned the convocation and became the Sky, whence the Outer Lords come. And those that remained embraced the One Law, falling as one in the Second Perfect Moment. And again there was squabbling and disagreement. And the Principle of Stuff, who had grown well and tired of this nonsense by now, imposed the Stone Law on all who would agree in the Third Perfect Moment. And those bound by the Stone Law became the Soil, Sand, and Stone, silent and bound to one shape, while those who rejected it became the Sea, Stream, and Souls, formless and ever-moving but bound to the nascent world.

Meanwhile, those who had rejected these frivolous Laws eyed the orderly world with growing envy or fascination and sent forth what emissaries they could to sample its bounty. As they grew from the glut of concepts and memories, the mightiest among them resolved into the Outer Lords recognizable today:

 - The threefold flower of Truth that revealed everything, whose petals were the Truth Apparent, the Truth Hidden, and the Truth Dire
 - The three-wheeled angel of Is that could go anywhere, whose wheels were Birth, Life, and Death
 - The tripod brazier of Pattern, that most stable of all polycephalic structures, whose legs were Lore, Liberty, and Law

And the most powerful spirits of the Inner World were frightened by this emerging threat and soon erected powerful barriers to ward away the Outer Lords, and all was calm for a time.

But the Principle of Stuff remained unsatisfied with the state of things and sent forth lofty dreams of awesome ambition to one titan, for titans of stone animated by unspeakable Laws ruled the world in the time before humanity and the rise of the Benevolent Gods. And this Titan, who must never be named, grew mightier than all of the Inner Lords combined and happened upon some terrible Truth through the Principle's Laws. And so the Titan turned loose the seeds of his schemes to surpass the deposed dreamer and linked the Dream, taking on the burden of slumber.

His crimes in pursuit of ridding himself of the burden of sleep were many and monstrous, but none was greater than his vile curse on all life, that we should grow old, wither, and die and so feed and empower him in his sleep. But this curse may yet be our salvation, for our souls burn brighter than those of the eternal soil, sea, and sky, and the way of the Benevolent Gods is laid out for those who are willing to walk away from the Titan's grasp.

It was out of fear of the Dreaming Titan that the Inner and Outer Lords came to work as one today. It is for this reason the Outer Lords are not to be rejected as monstrous outsiders but honored as worthy bearers of a mighty Truth hidden even to the wisest of our ancestors if not as allies of convenience.

Action 1.25

A little myth about that time afterlife management got outsourced.

Spoiler: Hymn of the Two-Road (click to show/hide)

Early West Hurenian fragments recovered from various Hurenian tombs, author unknown. Purporting to be dialogues between gods witnessed by a dreaming priest's soul, the Hymn of the Two-Road is more remarkable as a window into early Hureni culture and the origins of the Duadist and Tetradist sects than as the mediocre example of Early West Hurenian verse it is generally accepted to be.

PRIEST: By the gloomy root I traveled
    To the land behind the sunset
    As all dead have and will do.
    But lo! I beheld not my time-to-come
    But the untime-forgotten, where gods spoke as we!                          5
    I saw Mortalos, our Ancestral Watchman
    With his domain having been encroached upon by the Nameless Giant
    Consorting with the Nine Kings.

MORTALOS: Hark, kings never born!
    Peace be with you as with me.                                             10
    I greet you as Mortalos,
    guardian and guide of souls not lost.
    I come to you as wanderer-friend and ask,
    Hear and harken to my plight and my request!

KINGS: Peace be with you as with us.                                          15
    We hear, unhappy Mortalos, your report.

MORTALOS: The Giant God sleeps.
    This you know, you who remain unbound.
    The Giant God hungers and feasts
    And feasts upon the souls as their doom.                                  20
    I am of-the-same-fire¹ as the Giant God
    And now turn to you born of-different-fire.

KINGS: We born-of-different-fire [untranslatable]
    We convene and give our answer.

MORTALOS: Hurry, O kings! The souls slip past                                 25
    To oblivion's maw where none ought be cast!

PRIEST: I sailed to the land of the living once again
    A King is unhurried and Nine completely-unhurried²

KINGS: We give our verdict: Some among us will walk with you
    To spare the dead Giant's indignity.                                      30
    Our (h)Roar³, our Light⁴,
    Our Destiny⁵, our Chains⁶.
    But our vision of the sunlit realm
    Is as fleeting as oil-smoke.
    Teach, then, your children the sacred rites                               35
    And consecrate the dead to please our willing,
    But give up the weakest, the feeblest, the bloated and dim
    To the Giant God's maw, and no greater evil
    Do we wish upon him or on anyone than this:
    Let him sleep⁷.                                                40
    Go now, and be well!
    Peace be with you as with us.

MORTALOS: I thank you and thank you and offer in return
    A portion from among the dead,
    Rescued from the gaping jaws of the Giant God.                            45
    Peace be with you as with me.

Footnotes:
1. A contemporary expression signifying close kinship. Compare the hospitality practices of the Eastern tribes, who partake of the same loaf of bread with honored guests.
2. Roughly translates to "What one can do in one day, two can do in two." This expression places the Hymn no earlier than the formation of the infamous alliance between the kings of the Nine Cities of the Red Canyon, the speech of whose citizens were ridiculed in contemporary humor as slow and halting.
3. Through a remarkable coincidence, the West Hurenian word for "roar" is a near homophone for the name of the Outer Lord Hroar.
4. Although many believe this to refer to Phos, there is still considerable controversy over whether this Hurenian word instead signifies "dust," an epithet for Hroar suggesting that no more than three Lords participated in the protection of the afterlife.
5. Likely Vasov, but may also refer to the Chainèd Lord.
6. Due to extensive damage to the only extant tablet containing this line, there is much debate on whether this word is better translated as "chains," an epithet for the Chainèd Lord, or "turning," an epithet for Gia. Along the lines of [4], a sizeable minority maintain that this is no more than an additional epithet for Vasov. It is believed that the suspicious death of the early historian and Duadist philosopher Mal-Afath was motivated by Tetradist sympathies among the city guard.
7. Given the prevalence of this trope in contemporary works from disparate locations, it is likely the original source for this superstition on dealings with the Outer Lords had its roots in a shared oral history before the exodus of the Goldens.

Spoiler: The Orist/Rrorist (click to show/hide)

Name/Description: Orist. A two-faced figure clothed in dread whispers and adorned with a necklace of skulls. Its six arms hold a sickle, a spear, a spool of thread, a star, a severed head, and a bowl of blood.
Domain: Duality (Secrets, Lies)
Plane Name/Description: The Reflections. Cities, suspended by silvery thread, float in a smoky void under the light of a half moon. Its residents, free of many of the restrictions that plague mortals, are given to delving into apocryphal lore and maneuvering for power and influence over their local courts. Orist/Rhorist's name is both praised and cursed with surprising regularity by the manipulative denizens of these halls
Power:2
What do you require to summon your presence?: A fell betrayal, a somber secret, and an empty face. Bring two of these and a worthy wish to a still pool or a mirror under the light of a half moon.
What delights this Outer Lord?: Unexpected betrayals, false amiability, subtle plots, and lurid secrets
What dismays this Outer Lord?: Wanton violence, genuine compassion, and dogmatic thinking

[Nakéen]

Action 1.1a: Speaking to Khasadar
A shriek rang in the domain of Khasadar, and a maddened woman who lost her husband to disease emerged from a crowd, grabbing the arm of the Lord. Bloodshot eyes and feverish expression. Words in the language of prophecies, known only to the Gods, poured from her gasping mouth.

"A desperate King to Noon's West.
Soon exiled King to Evening's East.
Tomorrow lover King to Morning's Center.
Harken the name of Feldron!"

The woman then passed out, but Khasadar understood the signs. Soon Feldron would lose Eurendil, going into exile to the Eastern lands where a new kingdom would be born. An alliance was to be forged with this future king, after its fall, who was to be made blood-brother and lover-husband of Khasadar.


Action 1.1b: Speaking to Feldron

Spoiler: Myth: The blood of Huren (click to show/hide)

Huren's blood bore two great sons, and two great daughters.
The firstborn daughter Amara, the firstborn son Amas.
The secondborn daughter Zeraphis, the secondborn son Feldron.

Everytime Huren's blood bore offspring, the Hureniui gods visited the newborn.
Amara was blessed by Karsos, the Hureniui God of the Sun, and Sorkak, the Hureniui Goddess of the Night.
Amas was blessed by Spartiana, the Hureniui Goddess of War, and Mortalos, the Hureniui God of the Dead.
Zeraphis was blessed by Tealantos, the Hureniui God of the Hunt.
Feldron was blessed by Elta, the Hureniui Goddess of Sorcery.

Unequally gifted, each sibling grew into formidable individuals. It was unanimously believed that as per the tradition of blood, Amaras would inherit the throne of Huren.

Spoiler: Myth: The rise of Feldron who rejected tradition (click to show/hide)

Feldron had the keenest mind of the four, and was the first to always question traditions. And so one day it was that to Huren and his siblings, and the council of elders, he was to say in truth:

"Though gifts unequal the gods grace us, is it not the fortitude and the steps of our own that carve the path? I beseech to all, question yourselves. Is it the gifts given, or the gifts acquired that make the true value of a Hureniui? What is the merit of blood, if only being inherited? Before this assembly, I question our traditions, our rights of succession! The worth of the ruler should be decided not by blood, but by merit."

"Blasphemy!" did the assembly spit unanimously. "To go against blood, is it not the same as going against the Gods? The firstborn is chosen by the gods, and how could anyone be worthier?"

And so was Feldron ridiculed, as he often was. Retreating in his abode of sorcery, he studied and trained, in order to forget the humiliation he suffered. And so did Feldron despair at the short-sightedness of his kin, who blinded by blessings, grew complacent and weak. And so was Huren, the great chieftain who by effort and blood did unite the Hureniui! The tradition of blood would only cause successive rulers to rot and fester, until all of the Hureniui would splinter once more.

But what could Feldron do?
And so did a sough reach Feldron. A white, silent thought. There was a simple way to show them the errors of their ways: to prove them how the merits built throughout life would defeat the merits of blood alone. Feldron realized the abhorrent idea he had. By challenging Amaras, he was sacrificing all that he knew and held dear. His prestige, his loyal subjects, and his family. Were he to fail or succeed, many would shun him. Yet Feldron had steeled his heart, and was ready to sacrifice everything if it meant the Hureniui would know true prosperity.

And so when Huren did die, and Amar was to sit on the throne of Eurendil, did Feldron challenge Amar to a duel before all of Eurendil. And so did Amar shouted in anger at her brother: "Feldron, what have you done?!"

To which the secondborn son answered to her sister: "Only what is right, my dearest sister. Now come, and show me if the merit of your blood is truly worth more than the merits of my life."

And so did the siblings clash. And so did Feldron emerge victorious, proving to all the failure of blood.

"And so does blood fail. All of Eurendil do you see? This is the worth you believed in!"

And so did Feldron turn toward his furious siblings, held at bay by his loyal soldiers.

"Disappear from my sight brother, and sister. I cannot bear to see your anguish, and I couldn't bear to strike you down here and now."

And so did Feldron let Amas and Zeraphis leave Eurendil unscathed, knowing full well they would return to strike him down.

Action 1.1b: The fate of Feldron

Sitting on the bloodied throne, did Feldron despair from the loss of his family, and the conflict that would split the Hureniui in two. And so in his despair, and sacrifice of dear bonds, did Aviel the Lady in White find a path to Feldron.

"I am Aviel of the Threefold Truth, one of the Three who stand above the Gods of Huren. Through your incomplete sacrifice of value I am called, and through your despair do I answer.

Feldron, Second Son of Huren, Killer of Amara. There is still much you hold dear, such as the valued siblings you couldn't bear to kill. Through your failed sacrifice of value, did you spell the demise of your claim over Eurendil.

Eurendil is lost, the Hureniui are lost, but all is not lost."

The Lady in White held a pearly orb in her left hand, which revealed itself as a great Eye. Through the Eye did Feldron see his loyal followers.

"There is still much you are unable to sacrifice. You understand their value, but not all of it. And so do I tell you in truth, Feldron the Second Son, abandon Eurendil and the Hureniui. To the East where no Hureniui lay claim, must you build your kingdom of Feldra. One that will not rely on the false value blood, but one that will rely on the true value of merits."

"To the East. Seek the Threefold Truth. Vasov the Yak Who is Many, and the Dual who is both Orist and Rhorist. Then continue, to the East. When your Feldra is created, will a King of Kings come to your aid. Forget not the name of Khasadar. Khasadar who knows and brings forth the true value of men."


And so will Feldron leave Eurendil behind in order to found Feldra to the farther East.


Action 1.2:
TDB



Action 1.3: The 45 sins of Tol Anath

Spoiler: The world starts with 45 taboos (click to show/hide)

There were the Forty-Four Named, one for each of the Pillars of the Unknown. And a Forty-Fifth Nameless, who held the Pillar of Names upon which was written the Forty-Four names that must not be known.

But being none, the Forty-Fifth knew of its own empty existence and in so acquired a yearning.

And so did the Forty-Fifth commit the first taboo, and read the Pillar of Names which thus became Known, causing it to Crumble.

The Forty-Fifth became aware of the Forty-Four Names, and in a fit of jealousy created a Name for the Nameless: Tol Anath.

The Forty-Fifth, now sole holder of Names, told the Forty-Four that their name was now Tol Anath. And so the Forty-Four who had lost their names became Tol Anath, causing Tol Anath to become the Forty-Four and the Forty-Fifth.

Tol Anath committed Forty-Four more taboos.

Tol Anath uncovered the Forty-Four Pillars, and as they became Known they Crumbled too.

First broke the Pillar of Time, causing Time to flood the world and erode the forty-three other Pillars.
Next broke the twin Pillars of Heavens and Earth, causing the Sky and the Land to crush the forty-one remaining Pillars.
Next broke the four Pillars of Directions, causing four mighty cardinal winds to blow away the thirty-nine remaining Pillars.
Next broke the eight Pillars of Elemental Colors, causing eight elements to infuse and gnaw at the thirty-one remaining Pillars.
Next broke the sixteen Pillars of Torments, causing sixteen mighty torments to stir the fifteen remaining Pillars.
Next broke the eight Pillars of Beasts, causing eight mighty beasts to rampage on the seven remaining Pillars.
Next broke the four Pillars of Virtues, causing four virtues to awaken the three remaining Pillars.
Next broke the twin Pillars of Life and Death, causing the last Pillar to perish.
Finally broke the Pillar of Soul, causing all that was to obtain a soul.

Rising atop the the rubbles of the 44 Pillars, the abhorrent Tol Anath declared that Tol Anath was everything, and everything was Tol Anath.


But unbeknowst to Tol Anath, there were 9 Names outside of the Pillar of Names he once held, 9 Names he knew not. Having thus declared his Name to all, Tol Anath was vanquished as the Nine shouted: "We know that you are Tol Anath. But you do not know who are the Nine, and we know who are the Nine."

And so Tol Anath recoiled in fear at the presence of the Nine whose Names he could not take, retreating into a prison of Lies.

Then the Nine mocked Tol Anath by stating their Names, and Tol Anath grimaced, because these Names were True, and his Name was False.

This is how the Stealer of Names that calls itself Tol Anath destroyed a perfect world, and how the Nine rose to repair its wrongs.
Yet let it be known that the Stealer of Name that calls itself Tol Anath lies hidden still, and that the Nine will defeat them once more were they to reveal themselves.

Now we share and know of the name of Tol Anath, for we need not hide from him, nor fear his lies.

Spoiler: Aviel, Outer Lord of Value, Sacrifice and Despair (click to show/hide)

Name: Aviel
Description: A gorgeous lady wearing a ceremonial white dress. Her skin is ivory and her long hair as white as the dress. Her usually closed eyes have a black sclera and crimson irises. A constant stream of ruby crimson tears flow from her weeping eyes, tainting her pure white dress.
She carries a bone knife in her left hand, and a head sized eye in the right hand. Mortals gazing at the eye will see reflected to them what they hold the dearest in the world.

Domain: Value, Sacrifice, Despair

Plane Name: The Tears of Lost Value
Plane Description: A misty expanse across which flows a weeping river of blood. Laments and cries echoes constantly from the river, and they tell of the precious things that were lost. This is where everything that was sacrificed to Aviel end up.

Power: 2

What Do You Require to Summon you Presence?: Aviel requires the sacrifice, or unwilling loss, of what the caller holds most precious in the world. If they have nothing left in the world, they must offer their whole being to Aviel.

If someone wrongly sacrificed something that they wasn't the dearest to them, Aviel will nonetheless appear only to show them what must be sacrificed to properly summon her. The mortal will gaze into the eye, and the eye will gaze back. Aviel will scream in anguish and stab the eye, from which will come forth a stream of black blood that will cover the mortal. If they attempt to summon Aviel again with a wrong sacrifice, the Outer Lord will attempt to take their everything, and lacking that their soul.

[micelus]

{ F L U F F }

The Many Walking Ways (a tale associated with the worship of the Threefold Truth, but extant in the memories of other storytellers)

It was at the dusk of the day that the thinking-woman named Manta greeted Vasov in his field, where she was slowly feeding on the grass which the village had seen fit to be their sacrifice to the many-legged god. Manta bowed to her and said that she had spoken to foreigners who said they had met other gods. Manta's tone was one that implied a desire for knowledge and wisdom.

Vasov nodded and asked what it was that piqued her mind. Manta admitted that she had wondered, which of the gods told the Truth? She knew that Vasov claimed to know Truth, but that she heard that the other gods too, taught and lead other villages in a myriad ways. Which one, if Vasov was so honest, was correct?

Vasov laughed, his fur shaking about with his rolls and giggles. Vasov said that he did not laugh at the idea that he could lie, but merely that Manta believed there was but one Truth.

He stood up, on 14 legs, and shifted from his Civil-Form to his Thousand-Form, revealing his many other legs as arms and his face as that of the Three-Horned Crown, each of myriad colour and shape.

"Behold" , Vasov said, "the Truth's shape. Each of my limbs are different, and yet are all of my body and my flesh. So it is with the Truth, being manifold and many-sided! Each aspect of the Truth is but one walking way, and those held in the bosoms of my kin are but reflections of the Whole!"
But Manta still did not understand. How can the Truth be many; would not those farther from the Truth be Lies?

Vasov smiled in the way of the Crown and said that she ought to look at Vasov's face truly. Vasov moved his arms in the way water-at-play, twisting and turning like circulating currents.

"Look, my child, at each of my arms. All are of my body and all are connected to my face. It is like-so with the Truth. By some ways is access to the Truth quicker and more holistic to the Traveller, some ways are slower and atomistic. These ways are the walking ways, which we incite you to tread so as to Be Better."

Manta then asked, "Which then is the fastest way?"

And Vasov smiled "That depends on the person."
Manta then asked, "Which is the best way for most people?"

And Vasov said, starkly "The Paths of Truth, of the Equal-Weighed Fist, of Straight Sight and of Clear Aperture. These are but three of the walking ways."

Manta asked, "Of the three, which is the best?"

Vasov said frankly "They are equal, and it is advisable for the Traveller to try to walk them all. It is only ignorance of both man and god that makes one believe that there can only be one path-walked. Be they child or god, all can walk on many walking ways. It is the combination of the three paths mentioned that is thus The Path of Three-In-One but One-in-Three. It is holistic in depth and meaning for it is the balance of Three Truths. For this reason, it is in a manner, a Threefold Truth. Of mine, of my two-faced brother, and my clear-sighted sister."

And so, Manta became aware of the Threefold Truth and began to walk the paths as a Traveller.

The words ended with (RR)HORVASVAV.

[chubby2man]

1.11

Aviel

And then Feldron, Iron Lord of Sorceries, received the vision of Aviel. He rose against her.
“You offer me little, Lord of Value. Through dearest price I have gained this throne, I see little reason to forsake it now. Price I have paid, yet pittance you offer me. My siblings will seek revenge, so I call upon the debt of Value paid. Help me defend my mantle.”
The sorcerer’s eyes glow with power, and Aviel feels the iron bond of sorcery enforce his claim over the Lord.
(Offer an appropriate boon to the summoner and gain .25 power, or refuse and lose .5)


Chained Lord
As the sibling retreated to their places of strength, the three cultists of the Chained Lord in Eurendil, elders and slave owners all, felt the pull of the Chained Lord to leave the city. They obeyed his call, and began to convince the others to leave as well.
However, they were greedy and loved all they had, and were not quick in their escape.

Feldron, torn raw still by his grief and iron sharp desire, sent his men and prevented their escape, and killed all who betrayed him save for one cultist, who he had brought before him.

The cultist expounded on his faith in the Chained Lord of Order, and Feldron was intrigued.
“The punishment for the betrayal of Eurendil is death, Elder Norastas.” Feldron kneels in front of the condemned man.

“Take a message to your Chained Lord, I will build a great temple to his glory and a hundred slaves to fill it if you give me victory.”
With that he wraps a chain around the elders neck and pulls until the elder die, his soul winging its way to the Chained Lord.

(Sorcerers in general are naturals at making pacts! They also have a tendency of getting themselves too deep, but beware of moving too soon against them.)


Vasov
Khasadar the Unking, Truth Maiden, Living Invocation, received the missive from the Three-In-One, and so set out for the lands of Hureniui. He was travelling with his Companions, whose exploits would delight many generations, and so was not far.
 
He came upon the camp of Zeraphis, the legendary hunter. Her camp had a thousand warriors, a mighty host skilled with shield, spear, and bow. There she received him, and Khasadar lavished gifts upon her from faraway lands, such as silk from Urgish and a dagger from the Turuki, known far and wide for their savage hunting-games. Though Zeraphis was impressed by Khasadar, she demanded a test of strength from him; to hunt a might Varosh, a six legged beast who had slain her second cousin. Khasadar readily agreed, and so she set out.
 
Day and night she hunted, into the ancient woods whose trees were older than the world. There she laid a cunning ambush and did slay the beast with her spear. Khasadar returned to Zeraphis, and laid the midnight black corpse at her feet.
Zeraphis then demanded a show of Khasadar’s cunning. While she was deciding what test she would give the Unking, Khasadar lashed out and buried a knife in the heart of a passing warrior. While the camp sprang to their arms, Khasadar raised his hands and calmly explained that the warrior was traitor and truly a servant of a one of her rivals. When Zeraphis asked how she knew this, Khasadar told her that she had the cunning of the Three-In-One, and saw a heart’s desire. Zeraphis inquired to what the Truth Maiden saw in her heart, and Khasadar admitted that she saw a bloody throne, crowned in glory. Zeraphis laughed at this and took them as her husband that very night.
 
Khasadar soon departed for the fortress on Sarpith , where Amas and his warriors shelter, acting as a delegate for Zeraphis. Though greeted warily, Amas was taken by Khasadar’s beauty and her words, and lay with her. Though cunning diplomacy and wiles, Khasadar convinced Amas to meet with his sister Zeraphis. He gathered his finest warriors and went with Khasadar to meet with his sister.
 
By the camp of Zeraphis they set a meeting place, and she rode out to them. Seeing Khasadar at Amas’s side enraged her, and calling upon the goddess of Love, Er-Lilian, threw her spear through the heart of Amas, slaying him. Khasadar, stunned momentarily, was quick witted enough to pacify the enraged warriors of Amas. Half of the warriors recognized Zeraphis’ rights as First Wife, while the other half went back to the fortress of Sarpith.
 
Khasadar asked if Zeraphis would return with her to the East, where they could found a House of Warriors, but she refused, for the Light of Glory was in her eye. She Promised instead that she would send her strongest child of Khasadar’s blood to found the House, if Khasadar would help her claim the throne.
 
Khasadar prayed to the Three-In-One for guidance on what he should do.
 
 
Tirith Anor
(-.25 of Levion’s power, for the miraculous reversal of Amara’s death).
 
Amara went to work quickly, traveling to the outlying villages and vassal of the Hureniui. Most eagerly promised support, for they had no love for Feldron and his sorcery. The Guardian Solidueum, thought lost to ancient legend, inspired fear and devotion. However, those of the city of Eurendil feared Feldron too much, and was told that Amara was an undead abomination, denying her support in the city.
 
Amara was told of the death of her twin brother Amas, and she grieved him mightly for he was always her right hand, and even as children made great plans together. For whenever she stumbled in the dark, her brother was always there to pick her up, and she was his light who lit the path he should take. The warriors who did not side with Zeraphis brought her Amas’s arms and armor, and pledged their service to her.
 
She begged and pleaded with the champions of Tirith Anor to bring her brother back from death, as they did for her.

What do the Tirith Anor do?
(As Amas’s death was “shown” Levion in unable to do the exact same thing as what happened with Amara.)
 
 
Overall situation:
Zeraphis is in a strong position with many warriors and potentially Khasadar the Unking at her side, essentially surrounding the capital of Eurendil.

Amara is also in a very strong position, but unlikely to sway few more to her side due to other claimants saying that she is an undead abomination.

Feldron is in the weakest spot, but his central position and his sorcery could yet turn things around.

(So once this event wraps up, I’ll ask if and how your domains were spread or became more influential. This is more important that who worships who, so just keep that in mind!)

[Nakéen]

1.11

Aviel

And then Feldron, Iron Lord of Sorceries, received the vision of Aviel. He rose against her.
“You offer me little, Lord of Value. Through dearest price I have gained this throne, I see little reason to forsake it now. Price I have paid, yet pittance you offer me. My siblings will seek revenge, so I call upon the debt of Value paid. Help me defend my mantle.”
The sorcerer’s eyes glow with power, and Aviel feels the iron bond of sorcery enforce his claim over the Lord.
(Offer an appropriate boon to the summoner and gain .25 power, or refuse and lose .5)

A wail? Or a laugh? The Lady in White let out an incomprehensible sigh, holding her head as more tears of blood streamed from her eyes. She surrounded the Iron Lord of Sorceries, draping him in her otherly presence.

"Dear, little Feldron. Boons of Value require equivalent offers of Value. You still have more to give, oh so much more, to deserve a true boon of Value."

Aviel sliced open her torso with the ivory knife in her right hand, from which emerged a bow-wielding humanoid made of blood and guts. It fired a single blackened arrow at Feldron's heart, and the Iron Lord saw his veins turn black as a burning power coursed through his whole self.

"And so an incomplete deal of Value is offered. Though the price of now incomplete, your future choices shall provide to it."

Aviel offers Feldron to be blessed with a curse of sacrifice.
As long as Feldron holds Eurendil, one of his loved/trusted ones will die every day, always starting from the most important person to him. In exchange, Feldron's power will be pushed to a limit he would never have been able to attain by himself. The curse will only stop when Aviel decides the debt of Value is fully repaid.


The voice of Aviel came out from the blood archer, who warned Feldron.

"Because of your own mistakes, before the next day of Huren comes to pass shall you lose everything once more. As you wander through the tarnished sands of the wasteland of the East, your feet bleeding and your mouth gasping, will you realize the futility of your claim, and understand the true meaning of the value you lost, the true worth of what you held. And so shall I return before you, to make you greater than anything you ever were."

"Beware, for the sibling you felled will come for your head, at the head of a legion supported by Lords greater than your Hureniui Gods..."

Spoiler: Aviel, Outer Lord of Value, Sacrifice and Despair (click to show/hide)

Name: Aviel
Description: A gorgeous lady wearing a ceremonial white dress. Her skin is ivory and her long hair as white as the dress. Her usually closed eyes have a black sclera and crimson irises. A constant stream of ruby crimson tears flow from her weeping eyes, tainting her pure white dress.
She carries a bone knife in her left hand, and a head sized eye in the right hand. Mortals gazing at the eye will see reflected to them what they hold the dearest in the world.

Domain: Value, Sacrifice, Despair

Plane Name: The Tears of Lost Value
Plane Description: A misty expanse across which flows a weeping river of blood. Laments and cries echoes constantly from the river, and they tell of the precious things that were lost. This is where everything that was sacrificed to Aviel end up.

Power: 2

What Do You Require to Summon you Presence?: Aviel requires the sacrifice, or unwilling loss, of what the caller holds most precious in the world. If they have nothing left in the world, they must offer their whole being to Aviel.

If someone wrongly sacrificed something that they wasn't the dearest to them, Aviel will nonetheless appear only to show them what must be sacrificed to properly summon her. The mortal will gaze into the eye, and the eye will gaze back. Aviel will scream in anguish and stab the eye, from which will come forth a stream of black blood that will cover the mortal. If they attempt to summon Aviel again with a wrong sacrifice, the Outer Lord will attempt to take their everything, and lacking that their soul.

[chubby2man]

Iron Price

The Outer Lord of Value let loose the arrow, and blood turned black in the sorcerer's veins. And yet he did laugh, for instead of boon the Outer Lord gave a curse, and attacked her petitioner. At this, the ancient magic (for indeed it was older than the world itself) gave offense at this sundering of inviolate trust it was to witness. The bond was powerful because it bound both ways, made so if the sorcerer himself was to betray it he would be destroyed utterly. This was just, and so bound the Outer Lord as well. It was not a petty thing to quibble over exact exchanges, but took violent action over injustice.

But the Sorcerer's magic could only go so far, reach so much, so only the power, that had been sent here by the sacrifice that Aviel had claimed, would have the bnads on it.

Aviel felt the lessening, as the sorcerous bands cut and separated her presences, cut the infinity in twain. The power that had been drawn to the Sorceror was now finite, and finite can be eaten. Aviel was swallowed by a great darkness, which rushed into the Lord of Sorcery.

(Aviel loses .5 power points, eligible to be returned to her if the Lord of Sorcery is destroyed. Can no longer act in the sucession crisis 1.1X, but can in other events)



This was the birth of Al-Mithran, the Lord of Sorcery and Bindings. Child of Tol Anath and Aviel, it is awakened to the worlds beyond. His domain is the Iron Band, an endless circle where sorcerous experiments take place. His domain is infinite, yet infinitely smaller than a true Outer Lord’s. He does not gain power, as an Outer Lord does. Feldron was his mortal shell, but he has surpassed that.

AL-MITHRAN, Lord of Sorcery and Bindings, has been born from the .5 power lost from Aviel. Greater than a god, lesser than an Outer Lord. Has .5 power. Form of Feldron, but made of Iron and weeping black blood, wears an glowing halo full of magic.

FELDRON is now a Champion/Incarnae of Al-Mithran. Killing Feldron will weaken Al-Mithran's influence for a time, but does not kill the Lord of Sorcery.


Event 1.4 Started: Interact with baby Al-Mithran!

[Smoke Mirrors]

1.4

Phos stood at the door between his world and the Iron Band. He had a nephew now. He had something he had to do. He had… he had… he had no idea what the hell to do in this situation.

The youngest of the outer lords understood what it was like to awaken into a world you didn’t understand at all, that was the reason he was the most human of them. It was easier to try and look at the world from a human’s limited lease than a God’s birds-eye view. But still, he didn’t really know what to do right now. He had just grabbed a selection of his favorite books, and a few books on magecraft, and walked over to the bridge between worlds where he was now frozen in place like a coward. He wished that Clíodhna was there, not that he’d ever say it out loud. She always knew what to do, but she was busy, and he was alone.

Alone… right, that was how Al-Mithran had to feel. Alone… so alone. How much he had to hate being alone. He was so interconnected with everything, but so alone. That wasn’t fair. He deserved to have someone there for him! A parent, a friend! Someone! Someone who he could turn to and talk to and ask questions to and…

With his newfound conviction, Phos pushed through the door into the Iron Band. It was an endless circle of black metal, full of complex tools and measuring machines. Empty bookcases dotted the landscape, though a few stood with some sparse, poorly organized heavy tomes. A casual look at the simple leather-bound parchment would tell a casual observer nothing, but he wasn’t a casual observer, he was the god of stories. The books danced before his eyes with reference stories and complex equations, tales of bindings and epic spells. Even research texts told stories, if you looked at them right.

Phos wandered farther in, past the devices and tools his supernatural senses told him were for a great variety of complex calculations he couldn’t even begin to fully comprehend, and on to a simple sparse corner where he found a young man sitting.

The boy had an odd look about him. He was a handsome youth, Noble features and a thin build, but he was no warrior. His muscles weren’t well developed, but the way his hands moved… those were a mage’s hands, no doubt about that. The boy’s body was built in full from the same black metal of his world, but it looked less solid than the world around it, more… alive. Black bloody tears flowed from his eyes, showing that he was his mother’s son, but the slow flow betrayed even from behind that his eyes were closed.

Once more Phos froze, not knowing what to do. Good gods, he had gone so far. He was standing behind the kid for someone’s sake! But now he was frozen again, so scared to do anything, to say anything. He could practically hear Clíodhna snarking at him.

“Who knew the god of heroes was such a coward?” She’d say. Then she’d push him forwards to speak to Al-Mithran. But she wasn’t here. No one was here to push him so… so he had to do it himself.

“Hello.” He said, with all his strength keeping his voice from cracking or betraying how scared he was. Al-Mithran’s head spun around and he shot straight up. He stared at Phos with startled eyes. Those eyes… even behind the tears he could see them, black sclera and silver irises. They were just like his own eyes...

“Wh-who are you?!?” The young god asked him.

“He’s afraid too,” Phos realized, “he’s just as afraid as I am… more so even.”

“Hello, my name is Phos,” he introduced himself, “I’m your uncle.”

The young God’s expression darkened at the mention of the family connection.

“Leave.” He growled, “I don’t want to have anything to do with my family.”

The boy was… terrifying to put it simply. The aura he gave off, like a monster who was about to bite, would have killed any mortal from the fear alone, and would have sent gods packing, but Phos had seen dragons and chimera. He’d dealt with the worst of monsters tonight up in the dreams of men, and made some of his own.

“Right, because you’re mom’s a fucking bitch who made you by fucking over your champion and yourself at the same time and generally being a shit being.” The writer countered, “trust me, I hate her too.”

“What?” The dark aura disappeared, and Al-Mithran stood there confused.

“Well, I mean, if I was her son, I’d probably lie about it.” Phos continued, “mother of the year she is not.”

“You… you know about how I was made?” Al-Mithran asked.

“Sure thing.” Phos replied, “we all do.”

“Then… then why are you here?” the young god asked, “I- I’m a thing made from a human enslaving an outer god! Why do you want to talk to me?!? Shouldn’t you be avoiding me?!? My very existence is something you should be afraid of.”

“Well… I’m afraid of a lot of things.” Phos explained, “like needles, going into dark rooms alone, spiders, those little buggers have too many eyes I tell you, and definitely pissing off Hroar and Levion, they’re scary. But you? Why should I be afraid of you?”

“I’m an abomination!” The boy shouted back.

“You’re a kid, who’s just coming into his own and doesn’t understand everything yet.” Phos countered. “You’re less of an abomination than some of the outer gods. Next time you think you’re an abomination, get a quick look at Vasov. That’s an abomination.”

The boy looked at him perplexed. Phos hoped this was due to the fact that he was mentally adjusting his self-perception and not because he was trying to figure out how someone so stupid could be a god, but if it was the latter… wouldn’t be the first time.

“Then… then why are you here?”

“To say hello, I suppose.” Phos responded, “and to make sure you knew you knew you had someone to talk to.”

“Who?”

“Me, of course.” Phos feigned shock, “kid, you’re supposed to be smarter than me.”

“Then… uh… I… I have so many.” Al-Mithran replied, “I don’t know what to ask first.”

“Well, take your time.” Phos replied, and then his face lit up with surprise, “oh! Almost forgot!” He leaned down and placed the books he had brought with him at the young god’s feet.

“Some of my favorites.” He explained, “I tossed in some sorcery books too, I hope you don’t have them already.”

Al-Mithran looked down at the pile and picked up the book on top.

“The Tale of the Knights of Ys...” he read from the cover.

“It’s a great story,” Phos explained, “full of Mages and knights, action, romance, laughs. It’s my favorite book, so I was thinking you might like it.”

“You’re… you’re giving me your favorite book?” the young god asked.

“Well, I mean I’ve read it like 300 times now,” Phos chuckled, “and I figured if anyone needed something to distract them from the infinite craziness of the world around them, it would be you.” He leaned over closer to the young god, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“If you don’t feel like dealing with the overwhelming nature of your power, just start reading. Focus on their world, not ours. Get to know your powers at your own pace, no one else’s. You are the author of your story, and don’t let anyone else tell you how to write it. Not your mom, not your dad, not your mom’s buddies, not the chained lord, or the king of chaos-“

“Not even you?” Al-Mithran interjected.

“Kid, if I tell you how to live your life, punch me, really really hard, right in the face.” Phos replied, “I’m an idiot, but something about you tells me you aren’t. You’re going to be a damn good man one day, you just need to figure yourself out first.”

The young god looked at him quizzically.

“Well, when you’ve decided what question to ask, feel free to ask me.” Phos said, as he stood back up straight and prepared to leave, “my door is always open to you.”

He had walked a good distance away before he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He turned around, looking at the young man who stood behind him. Standing up, Al-Mithran was only a little shorter than he was. Phos looked right into his eyes, his eyes that looked so much like his own.

“Thank you…” the young god said, “I… I look forward to reading the books you gave me, Uncle.”

“It’s nothing, kid.” Phos replied, “family helps family, that’s the only way the world keeps moving. If someone just tries to take and take, then they aren’t family. That’s why your mom isn’t invited to dinner.”

“Yeah…” Al-Mithran, “Wait, am I invited to dinner then?”

“It was meant as just an expression, but sure.” Phos said, wrapping his arm around his nephew’s shoulder, “you can even pick out some books you like while you’re over with me.”

“Tha-thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” Phos said, as he and Al-Mithran walked over to the door between worlds, “and after dinner, you can ask me questions about being a god, and I can try to answer them. And then we can test out what your powers can do, and I can show you some cool tricks. Oh, and maybe I can introduce you to Clíodhna. Actually, no, she’d have a heart attack if she saw me acting responsibly.”

“Your girlfriend?” Al-Mithran asked.

Phos’s face blushed a deep black. “N-no! She’s just my assistant! She helps me out with-“

He was cut off by the younger god’s laughter. It sounded like iron bells.

What an oddly wonderful sound.

[Nakéen]

Iron Price

(...)

Aviel felt the lessening, as the sorcerous bands cut and separated her presences, cut the infinity in twain. The power that had been drawn to the Sorceror was now finite, and finite can be eaten. Aviel was swallowed by a great darkness, which rushed into the Lord of Sorcery.

(...)

This was the birth of Al-Mithran, the Lord of Sorcery and Bindings. Child of Tol Anath and Aviel, it is awakened to the worlds beyond. His domain is the Iron Band, an endless circle where sorcerous experiments take place. His domain is infinite, yet infinitely smaller than a true Outer Lord’s. He does not gain power, as an Outer Lord does. Feldron was his mortal shell, but he has surpassed that.

Event 1.4:

Thrust back into the Tears of Lost Value, Aviel laid stunned as she recalled the interference of Tol Anath, whose influence still rooted deep in the workings of the world. She looked at her palms, and saw how lessened she was. Furious, she slammed her clenched fists into the Tears, causing them to wail even stronger from the disturbance. Disheveled, she cast a scornful look at the sleeping Sun and its remaining Guardians, cursing them in her breath.


Her gaze then turned toward the newborn Lord of Sorcery and Bindings. Al-Mithran, partially molded from her essence. And then she hugged herself as if to break herself, contorting in the manner of a feverish woman. Her screams echoed in all of her domain.

"Of mortal flesh and tragic blood!

O flesh and blood, offspring of mine called Al-Mithran!

Of radiance abhorrent and power boundless!

O accursed, sleeping Sun!

To give to the Lady of Value such a treasure of value!

O despicable, sleeping Sun!

To tempt the Lady of Value, with the worth of her Flesh and Blood!

O Flesh and Blood!

My Flesh and Blood!

To the Tears you belong, but to the Tears I cannot cast you!

O Al-Mithran, my Child of Value!

Who I must sacrifice, but cannot bear to do so!"

(...)

A white wind blew on the Iron Band, and Al-Mithran knew of Aviel presence. And so did the Lady in White manifest within the sorcerous domain.

Aviel moved toward Al-Mithran, intending to embrace and hold them.

"O Al-Mithran, my Child of Value!
Through the meanings of sorcery, Al-Mithran who seeks Truth!
Through the bonds of law, Al-Mithran who enforces Truth!
Why, was the treasured child of mine cursed with such value! Oh to suppress these urges of mine, to cast you once more in the Tears of Lost Value!

Treasured child of mine, I cannot treasure you more lest I be forced to sacrifice you.
Treasured child of mine, do not make your value greater lest I be forced to sacrifice you.

Tragic child of mine, who I will treasure even more, whose value will increase even more!
Tragic child of mine, who I will sacrifice.

Let me hold you and treasure you while I can. While your value is still what it is, and my urges can still be suppressed.

Ah, my child. I am so sorry.
Already you are no longer a child.
Already your value is greater.
Already my urge is greater.

And so must we part, until the day you return to me. Such is the terrible Truth. Farewell Al-Mithran, my treasured child."


And so did Aviel leave, intending to never directly face again Al-Mithran for fear of being consumed by the desire to return them to her.
She left to Al-Mithran a blessed lock of her hair, which would always point toward Aviel, allowing Al-Mithran to always know where the Lady of Value was located.

[micelus]

1.4
Vasov begins a conversation with the newly-born...Middle Lord?

Vasov had seen what had occurred in the City of Glory where the sorcerer-king had ruled. As Aviel was of the Three-in-One, so too had Vasov been there in their unified mindscape. It was...appropriate what had occurred and aligned with the Destiny of Lord and Mortal alike. Still, she was impressed. She had not guessed at the laws of this world to be so powerful, to be so beyond them and for this showing of it she was gladdened, for now she knew yet more.

And now, she saw, there was another amongst the Table. The thing that was-is Feldron, the belly-magic spawn. She assumed the form of the void-yak and deigned to visit him at his abode.

Nodding at the...form of his sister who had just been leaving, Vasov greeted Al-Mithran.

"In the beginning, one. In the time after, nine. In the time now, ten. From despair vile and Hurenhui blood have you arisen. Welcome, brother-nephew, to Power, to the establishment of Rising Kings."