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[Glass]

1.4

Al-Mithran’s Iron Band was at once becoming rather busy and also exceptionally silent. Infinities were rather useful in that manner.

Sometime in that busy emptiness, footsteps rang out, quiet, yet harsh, metal against metal. This would have been typical - Al-Mithran being of the same material as his realm - if not for the accompanying ticking sound, and the light clicking of crystals gently tapping against each other.

The source of these noises was, in fact, none other than Gia. Their body at the moment was primarily built of metal, in fact heavily resembling Mithran’s own (albeit in a tarnished bronze), with the oil that was the core of their form only being visible at the spherical mass of it that they were using as their head. Behind them, however, trailed a pair of wings, made of clockwork and crystal.

As they walked, they looked appreciatively at the various accoutrements scattered about the plane. This was the home of a researcher, an innovator. It was rather a shame that they had killed Amara in their envy; he could have been wonderful otherwise.
Regardless. Aviel had, to put it bluntly, royally fucked up this situation, and left behind a a godling who didn’t know how to be one. Phos was already trying to lead him in the right direction - or at least, away from the wrong ones - but Gia suspected it would be important to have more than just one of their coalition visit Al-Mithran.

Gia came upon the center of the Band, where Al-Mithran resided. He was, to Gia’s amusement, reading a book, which appeared to be one of the works of fiction that Phos had deposited. However, as Gia approached, the new deity finally noticed their steps, scrambled to their feet, and stretched out a hand that glowed with magic.

“Who are you?” Ah, they were wary. Less so than Phos said they were when he first arrived, but still. Fair, however, given the Threefold. Gia also noticed a lock of hair clipped to his side. Interesting.

All this was noted swiftly, quicker than thought. As Mithran raised their hand, Gia raised both of theirs to the sky, and folded their wings down. Peace, Mithran. Or would you prefer to be called Feldron? I must admit, I am not fully clear on the distinction. Regardless, I am Gia, and I mean you no harm. I am a friend of Phos.
Mithran appeared to calm down a bit. At the very least, the put their hand down, though Gia noticed they did not dispel their magic.

Their was an awkward silence for a moment. Then:

I am... not the best conversationalist, I am aware, but I could not help but notice that you have a wide variety of research implements across the Band. I’ve always had an interest in innovations; it is one of my domains, after all. Would you care to discuss your work? I could potentially give you a few pointers.
And Gia saw the godling’s eyes shine.

[Glass]

Event-independent fluff stuff

Allow me to tell a… not a tale. A… summary? Synopsis. Yes.
Allow me to tell a synopsis of divine politics.

You have doubtlessly heard how the world came to be, perhaps even multiple accounts, conflicting, all of them. For all that they can tell us, they are not important, not to this. They are about before; this is about now, and after.
You have heard of the Outer Lords, yes?
Liberum, who lives in freedom, awakening, and choice, and the Chained Lord, who reigns over order, slavery, and authority.
The Threefold, Aviel of value, sacrifice, and despair, Orist – or Rhorist, I have heard – of duality, secrets, and lies, and Vasov, who claims destiny, fate, and – heh – order as well.
And us, the Tirith Anor. Phos who tells the stories, keeper of dreams and heroes; Levion, time itself, with creation and destruction in equal measure; Hroar, keeper of the afterlife, warden of death and souls; and myself, Gia, the lord of change, who brings invention and self-determinism to all.
But you always hear of us in these groups. Why is this? Of course, we support these groupings; otherwise, they would not be perpetuated. But where did they come from?

That is what I should like to tell you.

Each of the Outer Lords has their goals, of course, and ideology. It is much the same with humans. Where humans have goals and thoughts in alignment, they will come together, work together, to accomplish their ideals more effectively than they could alone; it is the same with us.

Liberum and the Chained Lord have each, in their own manner, spurned the other seven of us. Neither desires to answer to others, though their reasons differ. Nor are they aligned –
(Do we know that for sure?)
(I’m pretty sure. I’m getting to why.)
(Ok.)
– Nor are they aligned, for they represent pure freedom – some would call it chaos – and pure order – or, potentially, stasis. Unchecked, they pull solely toward their ideals, and those they champion are ones dangerous to seek absolutely. A world of pure chaos or of pure order – each dead worlds, where nothing of substance can grow, develop, live. Order and freedom are each fair to desire, but they must be tempered by reasons. Either for their own sake leads to dangerous ends.

The Threefold are different. Not singular endpoints like the Lords of order and freedom, they rather declare a path to be taken to –
(Wait, what do they offer?)
(I’m… not sure. I don’t think they ever made that quite clear.)
(I feel like they said something about seeking truth?)
(Ah, thanks.)
– a path to be taken to reach truth. But in this, they too are mistaken. They offer a path, but paths end. They may end before one’s own journey is finished, or take too long, and have a goal beyond reach.
And I have heard what they say of us, that we are "inefficient", that to follow us is wasteful, or what-have-you. They say their paths are the “most efficient”, that they will allow those that follow to reach (whatever the fuck it is) truth most swiftly. Let us look at their domains! Aviel, whose first domain is value, is also the Lord of sacrifice and despair. Orist – or Rhorist – rules over duality, secrets, and lies. Vasov’s claims lay in destiny, fate, and order. Despair, sacrifice, secrets, lies – painful things to hold close to your heart. And to declare ownership of where you future may lead is to take from one the option to do something – anything – else, no matter should it be for the worse or better. Certainly, their paths may be efficient in terms of time, but so much must be lost travelling along them! Who is to say you will not end them with less than you started?

Which brings us finally to the Tirith Anor. We do not declare, as the unaligned do, that there is some pure goal to devote all to, nor do we proscribe, as the Threefold would, a specific path toward your desires. The Tirith Anor are the Lords who bear witness to the cycle of life, from birth to death, all between – and what comes after. The error of the unaligned is absolutism, they say “That is all, reach it”; the folly of the Threefold is a failure to see beyond, they say “This is the way, follow it”. But we are the Tirith Anor, and what we have to say is this: “Here is life, live it well”.
Life begins with birth, but death is not its end. A man is not dead while his name is still spoken; the end comes only when the last influence of one’s life is not only gone, but forgotten. A man will live on in his children, his children’s children, and on until all they were, all they touched, all that saw even a vestige of their influence, has disappeared. This is what is missing in other philosophies, the acknowledgement of what comes after the goal is accomplished. This is what brought together the Tirith Anor, the recognition of the cycle, and a desire to maintain it.
Within our domains, we hold what came before, and what will come after. We hold the essence of life, of growth, and the rest of death, of the afterlife. We hold the stories you will hear, and those that will be told of you.
You are beautiful, and we will defend you to the edge of oblivion.
While we stand, the cycle will continue, and no matter what faces you, the dawn will always come again.

[Rahx]

1.4

Levion would say hello but there is a 'do not disturb' sign to his realm.

[Taricus]

1.1/1.4

To Al-Mithran/Feldron, the Chained lord considers his proposal of a temple as Aviel's decision reverberates through the worldchains. But then the chain lord speaks with utmost authority.

"If you are to serve me as a vassal, and replace those bonded to me that you have destroyed, along with the temple proposed, I will grant you power and freedom from the mortal form, to truly understand power as it is beyond the understanding by your kin. Know this; those that were your siblings must be part of the enslaved to this temple when you are victorious."

[micelus]

{ F L U F F }

The Four Tented House

It was at a dawn of a winter day that the Traveller named Manta greeted Vasov in her tree, where the goddess had taken to hibernating in. She had taken on the form of a red cheetah, its tails seventy-seven in number.

Manta brought with her half of a freshly-slaughtered calf's leg, the other half having been used as bone stew for the elders and children. She sung words of the Truth to Vasov and offered the meat. Waking up, she thanked Manta and began gnawing on the bone, her cheeks becoming redder with the blood of the youthling bovine.

Manta had once again, come in a mood of questioning and whilst the goddess fed, she coughed and asked for knowledge. Vasov nodded to let her speak.

"In the village beyond the mountains they speak of the Tirith Anor, gods of Goodness. Who are they?"

Vasov, unfazed , looked at her and simply said that they were teachers of the Truth.

"So, why have you not told us of their walking ways?"
Vasov, with her mouth half-full said, in quiet tones, that they were slow and long and treacherous in their teachings. They did not teach direct paths to the Truth, but convoluted ones, believing instead that the Truth was likewise, like that. Indeed, they did not even call it the Truth.

"So they are liars?"

Vasov shook her head. "No, worse. They do not seek Truth even as they teach walking ways." Setting aside the calf's leg for now, Vasov straightened up and jumped down from her tree.

"Of the Tirith Anor, there are four."

"The path of their House is not straight, is not clear, is not equal, is not unified. It is four tents within a House, rather than four rooms within a House. They share the House and act similarly, but they do not share apartment. Their House-aim is not to seek Truth, but to Witness."

Manta said "But I've never seen you amongst other gods, even your kin that you have mentioned."

Vasov laughed "My child, we three are always together, for we share the Truth and are unified in purpose. The Four Tents are like...four chickens stacked on top of another in the shape of a man. We of the Three are a man in full."

"I am the Truth-That-Was-Apparent. My double-faced sibling is the Truth-That-Was-Hidden, whilst my clear-eyed sister is the Truth-That-Was-Dire. We are facets of One, even as we are Three. The Four Tents are exactly as they are; Four who represent Four."

Manta then asked in what ways were their walking ways inferior?
Vasov illustrated their inefficiency by conjuring their imagery in the snow.

Gia was conjured of rigid and dense ice, like a sculpture perfected. It gave off an aura of coolness. "Gia's goal is not to teach a walking way at all, but to simply develop and watch. There is no Truth in his words, simply Advancement. This does little to aid your soul and little to better your person. It is simply, Stasis disguised as Truth."

Phos was conjured as light snow, dressed in dapper clothes and with intricate scripts upon his person. "The walking way of Phos is confusing and with little direction as its goal is not betterment of the person, but of entertainment and records. With these are memories maintained and stories held by Phos and of others. To reach the end of this walking way would require efforts difficult for most and for this reason I cannot recommend it."
Hroar was conjured as a concentration of snowflakes, floating in the air. "Like Gia, Hroar's way is not a walking way but simply, a dead end. His goal is to be warden and enforcer of the mortal fate, and nothing more. It is as such, anathema for his way leads to no knowledge, only Stasis. His way is for those without hope, without dream or optimism. A fine way for the pitiful, but a sorry state for most."

Levion was conjured as a snow-rimmed mirror of ice, ornate and tall. "The walking way of Levion is one of many crossroads, mountains and swamps with much Truth found in many of its detours and crossroads. And yet, it is a path slow and treacherous for the grand Ambition one can gain on this path is not of a nature good, for it occludes the Truth. Rather than allowing one to rise, it makes one spread along. One finds themselves muddled with the affairs of the world or otherwise drawn to powers distracting them from their own Betterment. I as such, cannot recommend it."

"Further, my child, the ways of these gods do not intersect, but are simply together. They start at the same nexus, but do not at all cross once more or meet at the end. Used in conjunction, they cannot lead to the Truth."

Manta thought on these words and asked another question. "If they do not call their guidance walking ways, do not seek the Truth and in some cases do not desire Truth, are they truly Teachers of the Truth?"

Vasov looked at her quizzingly and nodded. "Yes. Even in error is the Truth revealed, my child. Even though they do not all teach towards Truth nor even dare say that they do, their values and knowledge still add to the person's Being and Bettering. Generally, in any case. The Mistake however, is to be content with these affairs of the world, for Betterment is not simply Advancement or Witnessing, but Rising-like-King. This is the Truth laid-bare."

Manta then said "Oh dama*, then so the mistake of the Four Tented House is not their morality or ethics, but their contentment?"

Vasov simply said "Yes".

And so, Manta became aware of the Mistake of the Four Tented House.

The ending of the words is BIBBITY BOBBITY BOO.

*a word referring to a respectable feminine superior or teacher.

The House of Scales

It was around the middle of the day in the midst of High Spring that Manta the Traveller did approach Vasov. He had taken to the form of a diminutive green gecko, lounging upon a flat slab generously produced by the village's chief mason. His seven eyes look at Manta lazily as she approached, happy to see his friend come once more.

Manta came in her travelling clothes, for she had returned that morning from a long journey. Immediately, she greeted Vasov and exchanged words of news and relationships and markets and savages and developments. Vasov listened to all of this with interest and responded in kind with his own knowledge. Eventually, Manta mentioned a gruesome thing two valleys over, of warring bands of warriors. A bloody battle of twice-deathly proportion, where many had died and many more had lost their love and desires. Manta said that one had born upon them the amulets of chains whilst the other tattooed themselves with the hands of freedom; symbols foreign to her but known. With that mentioning, Vasov sighed. "And so, the awful fighting begins again."

Manta looked confused by her friend's interjection but asked what he had meant.

Vasov looked at her with all his eyes and said "I have taught you the names of the Lords and of the Three and Four, but not of the Two, though their calls were mentioned."

"There is the House of Truth, and the House of Four Tents (Which is Portended, too), and there is the House of Scales. They are not bed-mates or arms-length allies, but enemies in full, without hidden axises. They oppose each other in full for they are opposed in manner and being."

"Liberum is the Clarion-Call of Freedom, of One's Own-Will. They are the Fire-Choice, that which burns with heroic fervour until turned smouldering and then into ash and then into dirt, or otherwise growing to burn all that would dare quench it."

"The Chainéd Lord (who bears no name and is perhaps strengthened by its absence) is the Drum-Beat of Order, of Will-Subsumed. They are the Ice-Crown, that which demands that all will be turned towards the will of One or Few. Their chill is glacial and commanded only by those with the Right of Rule, to which all must obey without question."

"They are Fire and Ice, but equalled and eternal. They are enemies of the most prime sense and it is their conflict that twists the world-churn. The balance between these forces opposed is of import and care, for in both is their substance but also folly. And yet, because of their soleness, they are without true friend or ally. Unlike the Three or Four, they are alone in their passion to impose their wills, absolute as they are."

Manta then asked if there was any Truth in their ways or if they taught walking-ways.

Vasov nodded. "They are opposed, but in both their pursuits may you find aspects of the Truth. Indeed, to walk their ways is not without value. In Freedom do we find the ability to choose, and in Order do we find the ability to command. And yet, like other walking ways, their paths can oft not lead higher, but merely around. Know this and learn their lessons, my child."

And so, Manta learnt of the House of Scales, their bickering and their lessons.

The ending of the words is BIBBITY BOBBITY BOO.


The Truth

It was around dusk of the harvest season when Manta The Elder-Traveller did meet with Vasov, who was now in the form of a beautiful eldritch being, perhaps something closer to what she truly was. It was indescribable to mortal eyes and yet, Manta (who had walked many of the ways) laid witness to it with eyes of mirth.

Vasov was busily cutting at stalks of wheat. Taking a break, they did take notice of Manta approaching slowly and with a limp, for such was the way of the elderly. It had been many years since her first lessons and Vasov treasured each meeting they had with the elder.

They talked in a manner not between god and supplicant, but of close friends. It was, quite out of the blue, when Manta asked quickly, what the Truth in actuality was.

Vasov look at her with their many faces seemingly stunned. After a few moments, they laughed heartily and with joy.

"The Truth, my friend, is to Be."

Manta smiled, so was the lesson repeated. But for once, she queried, what 'Being' was.

Vasov replied "To Be. To Be More. To Be Greater. To Surrender what was below in order to reach what was above. It is to don Royalty, not with pride or humbleness, but with balanced feeling. It is to be a Rising-King."

Manta sighed in the way Vasov had found familiar. "And so, it seems, I have not claimed Truth."

Vasov smiled sadly and shook their heads "No, but you have spread the Truth. And one day, perhaps, one shall Rise."

Manta knew that this was her purpose and was happy, for she knew that Vasov was right.

"Now child (though clearly by mortal reckoning she was not), regardless of what I have said many times over, what is the Truth in your conception?"

Manta thought for a moment then replied. "The Truth is to not be a figment of the Dream. It is not to be pain to the Dream or break the Dream. It is to become Like-Dream. To do this, one must Rise and become a Rising-King who are not called Risen-Kings for to stop in one's ascension is contentment. To become Like-Dream is to become the One but separate from the One, to be one's own Conception without the musing of Tyrant or Prince. It is the end of one's own existence in order to found one's perfection. It is in Perfection that we find Power True and in this Power, we find Peace."

Vasov nodded many times and embraced Manta, perhaps for the last time.

And so, Manta The Elder-Traveller recited her life's meaning and continued to teach the Truth.

The ending of the words is BIBBITY BOBBITY BOO.


Four Virtues of Vasov

Peace (AYA): The path does not reveal itself without control over one's mind. One must learn to be undisturbed by the world and its stimuli.

Compassion (RAHAR): And yet, one cannot isolate oneself from the world for one is still within it. As a resident of the world, one should act as if everyone was a part of themselves.

Ambition (SUTHI): It is with caution however, that one must recall their goal and not be muddled by the world's affairs. One must still, reach at the starry-sky.

Wisdom (ZHI): And in all things, one must act with care and with right-mindedness, for all in the world are bound by time.

There are no endings, for the path is not yet clear.

Vows of the Content Oracles (to be used at a later point)

The life above is not the life I choose,
For to be a Rising-King is to be unsubsumed
Loyal then am I to mine fate, without ambition or dread

I accept my lot and my mortal destiny
And accept with it, the opened eye.

I shall beget no children;
I trade my loins for sight.

I shall own no property;
I forfeit my wealth for peace.

I shall hold no opinion;
I surrender my voice for radiance.

With these Vows I take Power
And with Power I become Limited
And by these Limitations,
I am Free.

There are no endings, for the path is not yet clear.

Vow Of the Vasovian Mystery Cult (to be used later)

I recognise the Truth, its many aspects and sides.

I recognise Destiny, that which is straight and known.

I recognise the Fates, the lot of the many and the few.

I recognise Order, for all act according to the order of their wills and bodies.

I recognise the Virtues; AYA, RAHAR, SUTHI and ZHI, but not the Hidden Syllable of the Rising-Kings.

It is by these Virtues that I shall live my life.

Either insult or compliment; Peace.
Towards commoner or lord; Compassion.
With sky or earth; Ambition.
In mind and body; Wisdom.

I vow to live with Perfection in mind, with holistic benevolence and tempered thought.

By these Limitations, I am Free.

There are no endings, for the path is not yet clear.

 

[Glass]

1.4

Gia witnesses the Chained Lord's temptation of Mithran, and is displeased. They put a caring hand on Mithran's shoulder.
You have heard the Chained Lord's words; they desire you only as a vassal. It is only because you have claimed power from Aviel, even, that they care for you that much; they sought to destroy everything of your father's heritage before that. Do not heed their words; the Tirith Anor can assist you more than they can - we are four, to their one - and you will be treated as more than a simple subject. You were not made by us, but we see you, and we feel an obligation to ensure you are not left lost and confused.

[Nakéen]

Fluff

The inner circle is formed of those high mountains and peaks, thundering waterfalls and deep valleys and caverns. Dangerous monsters and creatures inhabit these spaces, providing test and mettle for the inheritors of Tol Anath.

Tale of the Lurmatra

The fire crackles, men old and young huddle and listen, as the retired hunter from lands beyond speaks.

"In the treacherous mountains where no Man belongs, many a beast is feared by even the bravest men. Among these beasts is a particularly despised and feared monster, and the reason why no lone man shall receive help in the mountains. It is none other than the Lurmatra, whose name was given by the tribe of Sör."

Men cower, children whimper. The elder raises his arms menacingly, depicting a terrible creature.

"As tall as two men, yet as thin as one. Eight terrible limbs of a spider, with ends sharper than spears. Long, gray hair cover its body, but not even blades can cut it. But the worse, oh the worse..."

He smiles eerily, and all breathing stops.

"...Is its perfectly human face. Always smiling, even as it kills, even as it dies. But be not fooled, for no man could be this sadistic."

The hunter stops smiling, holding themselves, trembling.

"For this monster enjoys suffering and despair. For this monster will enter the body of the lone man, and control them like a tragic puppet. Worse, for the infested man is aware of its condition, but is unable to resist. Powerless as his voice is stolen, and his thoughts probed, only to be used against other men who would approach the infested man. And when a naive and kind group does approach-"

The old man sobs, breathing erratically.

"-the smiling visage of the Lurmatra emerges from that of the lone man. And then its limbs from the back, and the guts. And then limbs are broken, but no life is taken. No, for the Lurmatra relishes on suffering. And so all shall be tortured until only one remains, and this last one is the most unfortunate of them all, for it becomes the next host."

The old man drinks from a cup handed to him by a stout man. The trembling ceases. The old man looks with an empty gaze at the fire, which is now dimmer than before. He is smiling, and talking with a monotone voice.

"But the Lord of the Mountain be blessed, for no Lurmatra shall leave the mountains. And so it is why no lone man shall receive help in the mountains, for it could be a Lurmatra in disguise."

A young child lifts a hand, and asks "How do you know that, old traveler?" Still staring at the fire, the old man answers with a laugh.

"Oh you see..."

He lifts his head, looking at the child.

"I am a Lurmatra."

Its face is not what it was before. It is smiling.
A wind blows the fire out.

[chubby2man]

Chained Lord

Feldron was not pleased by the Chained Lord’s offer. “ You think you can make me a slave, Lord of Chains? I am not so desperate to sell myself just yet. And you seek to meddle in my affairs? I AM THEIR KING, you will not mandate what I do with them! They will live, they will be enslaved, or they will die according to my wishes, and mine alone. “
“ I recognize your greater power, Chained Lord, but I am not your subject. I would build you a temple and fill it with slaves, in return for a promise of aid.”

( Feldron will build a temple and fill it with slaves, at least .25 power’s worth, in return for a promise of aid should he call. There is no penalty for refusal or a counter offer, though he may stop bargaining if he is frustrated by your offer. I would advise against attempting to attack or curse him.)
 
1.2

Death is the fate of all mortals who walk upon the face of Tol Anath. Souls gather energy from the experience of life itself, the pain, the love, and joy of it. The fate of these souls, however, is to be fed into the ever hungry maw of Tol Anath. The gods of Death, newly born of the myths and fears of the people who were deprived of the leadership of the guardians, were horrified by this.
 
They devised death rites and burial practices, which would help anchor the soul long enough to be picked up and set in the afterlife. However, the afterlives are not currently strong enough to hold all the souls they receive, particularly those who don’t have extensive funerary rites.
 
So Hroar’s offer was generally well received. They do have some assurances requested though.
That Hroar will not steal or take the souls of the Death Gods. They agree to share some of the power, but the souls are theirs.
Hroar must preserve the sanctity of the cycle, and must end necromancers and those seeking to cheat death, and thereby the Gods of their souls.
Hroar must uphold the protection of tombs and burial grounds, so that souls may remain anchored to the world.
Hroar must not show favoritism or partiality to any Death Gods or afterlives, unless they threaten the integrity of the worlds or afterlives.
 
Hroar, due to his power and sheltering of the Death Gods, would be acknowledged as the King of Death, and would be able to call upon the armies of the Death Gods to help enforce the sanctity of the afterlife. This does not grant him internal authority over any Death’s God’s afterlives, but power is granted to help guard against external threats.

How does Hroar respond to the offer?
 
1.4
Al-Mithran is greatly appreciative of all the kindness shown to him, especially by Phos and Gia.
 
Phos and Gia
Whilst at dinner, the young Lord of Sorcery asked the Tirith Anor if now that they knew what a great guy Feldron was, and how that Amara and Zeraphis were obviously evil, if they would now throw their support to Feldron? Al Mithran says that it would be awesome, and they would build a great city with temples to all of them, and at the center a Tower of Sorcery!
What do you say to him?
 
Vasov
Al- Mithran greeted the Lord of Destiny. Before them was an image of the Center of the World, the mind of Tol Anath. Even asleep you could see the raw power coursing through it.
“My father,” he said, almost to himself. He turns to the Void-Yak. “ I am born of these two worlds, the Glory of my father and the Despair of my mother. Do you see my Destiny, Lord Vasov? For I do not yet know my place.”
What do you say to him?
 
Aviel
Al-Mithran held the lock of hair, and treasured it. It’s value was immense in the hands of a Sorcerer, for that was a potent link and presented a deep vulnerability. But  Al-Mithran was deeply reassured by it, and kept it with him always.
 
 
 

[micelus]

Vasov
Al- Mithran greeted the Lord of Destiny. Before them was an image of the Center of the World, the mind of Tol Anath. Even asleep you could see the raw power coursing through it.
“My father,” he said, almost to himself. He turns to the Void-Yak. “ I am born of these two worlds, the Glory of my father and the Despair of my mother. Do you see my Destiny, Lord Vasov? For I do not yet know my place.”
What do you say to him?

Vasov conjures a point of light between himself and Al-Mithran, shining bright-like-sun. "Destiny is ordered and linear by natural law as established by the Fates, but it is not in truth, set in stone. This is the Truth of Destiny; it is what one makes of it. This I tell you Al-Mithran - or perhaps yet Feldron - because I see you as a Rising-King. It is true that you are young by the standards of not only of Outer lord but of divines, for we still hear your birth pangs in its drumming rhythm."

The point of light splits turns into a line, and then splits into two, then four, then eight and so on. "Destiny is but possibilities and each being has an effect on their own. And yet, once upon a path, it is difficult to change one's Destiny. A simple example is such; one cannot choose to sell an apple after eating it...unless one would tamper with the twists of destiny and time. Even knowing this, each being is still weighted towards a particular path, partly of their own choosing, and partly because of the destinies of others."

The Hurenhui words (or perhaps, visualisations of the words if the Hurenhui are still without writing) for Feldron's name appear between Al-Mithran and Vasov.

"Your Destiny as mortal, frankly said, was limited. You were a piece for the intrigues and desires of gods and lords, this is known and true. Myself and my fellow Truths - including your mother - saw you as an intriguing piece, one who could give birth to scholarly arts. In a way, I suppose, we may yet succeed.  Others saw you as a foe for their own pawns; they rallied around the kin you had slain. Others saw you useful in the place you had already taken by your crown-ambition."

The conjuration of Feldron's name shifts to eldritch runes of Vasovian craft. It stood for the Lord of Sorcery's name.

"Now, your Destiny is changed. You are above mortal and above god. Your Destiny is multiple. Perhaps you side with one of the Lordly factions, perhaps you stand on your own. Perhaps you choose to study the nature of the worlds. Perhaps you choose to influence the world. This is your choice."

The name of Feldron appears once more, below the name of the Lord of Sorcery.

"But what Destiny do I see of you, Al-Mithran? As you are, you still are infant, and attached to your womb. You are...still not fully Al-Mithran and still partly Feldron. This is natural, this is fine. But if you wish to be at the apex of yourself, as a Rising-King, you must cut away at your mortality and claim divinity in its whole."

 "The Destiny I see for you if all continues as you desire right now is this: in your royalty, with great power and possibility, you will try to establish Realm upon the world and try to claim Power in the manner of Feldron's own biases. The goals of Feldron will be completed, will be attained, but you shall yearn for more. And yet you shall find that in order to do so, you will require to sever your ties to your humanity with great pain not for only you, but for others."

Vasov paused.

"Of course, there is the other Destiny, one more peaceful. That is, to sever your ties to your humanity now, to forget your goals as Feldron and instead focus on your goals as Al-Mithran, Lord of Sorcery. Truthfully will this Destiny see you lose the Light of Eurendil, but so too will your horizons be opened towards the ambitions of your spheres. This is the Destiny I would suggest you take; one I would take. And yet, I am long-disconnected from the mortal being and my biases are significant and strong."

"What do you think, nephew-brother? I would rather not put words in your mouth or otherwise."

[Taricus]

"Hrm. You are adept at this. Leaving the deal as you proposed as is, as it is acceptable to me, I'm willing to offer more should you provide your siblings unto it."

[Madman198237]

1.2
Addressing the gods of death: "All of these are already my creed, and I accept the conditions, with two additions:

I request that pious mortals be allowed, with the proper rituals, to speak briefly with the dead, to gain their knowledge or their guidance. For preserving the knowledge of these souls and allowing it to be shared gives mortals a reward for piety and devotion to the rites of death, and also allows them to grow and prosper, which will allow us to grow and prosper.

I ask of you all, that once an age, a spirit of great importance be allowed to return briefly to the world, to inspire great works from the mortals, which can only benefit us, or to avert calamity, for the deaths of many only weaken us and hasten our doom. Such a mortal ought to be chosen by this, the council of death, to further our goals. This spirit would serve as my Champion, and would protect the cycle of life and death and intercede where balance must be restored.

In return, I will stretch out my power beyond yours, and preserve the balance of life and death, the order of the world.

With these powers, I would send the spirit of Huren down to the world to appear to all his people, and counsel them in this crisis of succession, to tell his people that Amara is the rightful heir, and is not undead. He will remind them that the gods of death and the Lord of Death do not allow such evil. And I would teach Amara, along with the devout priests and keepers of the dead, the secrets of speaking with the dead, as consolation for her losses and to ensure that all the people of Huren can see that she is no undead abomination in the eyes of their very deities."

1.1
With the matter of death settled and the work beginning on building afterlives into his sheltered realm, Hroar was called down to the mortal plane. A mortal wanted to raise the dead, and it was someone who had more reason than most to believe that it was possible...and right.

Hroar adjusted his form, until he looked like someone who hadn't died. Or, well, at least someone who hadn't died an obviously violent death, which, really, is much the same thing for him. The more...gruesome appearances he tended to assume in times of trouble were not exactly endearing, and this was one of those times. An extremely old man appeared before Amara, grieving in isolation for her brother. His voice is quiet and rough, and sounds as wise as his appearance looks.

"I am Hroar, Outer Lord of the Afterlife. The rest of the Tirith Anor you know of, I believe. I have...stayed distant from you, despite sharing my companions' wish for you to regain your throne. Your... case... is special, your death only barely prevented. I felt it wiser to...remove myself from the situation, than render judgement on your death and resurrection."

"You died, your soul slipping towards Mortalos' domain. And yet, you lived. This breaks the laws of death, and yet it was necessary to prevent tragedy on a grand scale. But...your wish brought me here, and so I pass my judgement: What happens with Time is not my concern, and you appear very alive to me at the moment." At this, a wry smile appears on his aged face, "so I will not be taking you, not yet. But that is not why I am here. You wish for the return of your brother, slain by jealousy. I fear that two of your siblings were fooled by the Threefold's ambassador. And because of the presence of the ambassador and others...time cannot be rewound for your brother. His soul is within the care of Mortalos now, and to reverse that would shatter the foundations of this world. We gods of death do not lightly return souls to life, even souls who should not have died so soon."

The figure standing before Amara sighs, and continues speaking. "Death comes for all, and I cannot allow the dead to return to life, for what value has life if it does not end? I cannot ease your grief, for if you have no grief then can you truly have cared? Death cannot give much to Life, I fear. I must take, sometimes too soon. But such is my duty, such is the cycle."

"I have but two things for you: The first is aid, for I am now the King of Death. The soul of Huren will appear to his people, and remind them of his wishes, and destroy this lie of necromancy that is spreading. The second is more personal. I charge you with sharing a secret, the secret of speaking with the souls of the dead. A great sacrifice to the gods of death is required, and piety, devotion, and care for the rites of death. Anyone who does so may speak with a soul. If you survive this conflict, you will require no sacrifice to speak with a soul. Your sacrifice will be in ensuring your people venerate the gods of death and follow the rites of death, to aid us in saving souls from the Abyss."

"Now, go, Amara. You must lead your people. You must reclaim your people, mend what relationships can be mended. But be wary. Feldron may no longer be what you remember. A mistake has born a new lord of chains, and it may be he will fall under the sway of the Lord of Slaves and thus consign your brother as well. Your duty is to life, and to let your people live, even if that life cannot be where Feldron and his new Lord hold sway."

With this final warning, the figure simply vanishes. Dramatics are for those who don't have to deal with zoning an outer realm of the universe for dozens of conflicting afterlives. Who knew that one's choices could cause bureaucracy to exist in one's own domain?

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.