Seven deaths, but one life-
Cerulean ParadiseYear 1 of the Astral Age
The Watchers shift slightly closer, thrumming with the first glimmerings of potential. Yet as they work their will on the world of their desire, ground is lost as it flees coquettishly to the edges of their stellar sight.
***
Mantios suddenly freezes in place as he walks down the sun-dappled street, freshly baked bread underarm, nearby pedestrians nodding respectfully to him. An hour passes before concerned citizens move him back into his house. One of Vendra's three physicians is called to examine the rigidly paralyzed Mantios, still frozen in a posture of walking, laid on his bed.
Physico Clepiades, after a thorough examination, declared that Mantios had somehow gained a severe imbalance of the humours within his head, and as such had instinctively placed himself into a healing enkoimesis. Asclepiades prescribed ten hounds to lick Mantios' head and neck for an hour.
And so it was under the full moon that Mantios suddenly shuddered back into animation, face wet and sticky and stinking, cramped muscles complaining. For several long minutes Mantios simply lay there blankly. Staring unblinkingly, seeming to still not have quite recovered. Finally, with spine-wrenching gasp, they clapped their cheeks and sat up. But the apprentice left by Clepiades couldn't help but crouch backwards in fear and terror when Mantios' gaze met theirs. It was a cold and hungry thing, a consuming void flickering with starlight.
Year 3 of the Astral Age
It started with the children. While the offspring of Badul has always been a wild, even the Badul raised eyebrows when they girls and boys of a few summers snapping up birds and frogs and mice with their mouths, eating them raw and whole with seemingly great enjoyment.
Fearing possession by ghosts of starvation, ever more desperate parents delved deeper and deeper into the wild hills and woods, seeking out crazy old hermits and raving mystics for aid, as jaws bulged. One crone inhaled deeply of a foul concoction of mushrooms and rotting otters, before beginning to rant about doom from the stars, and chasing the Badulians out, refusing to speak with them and fleeing the area soon after. Some claimed to have cured the affliction, but when it only worsened, these fraudsters were killed. Their blood offered to the Forest in hopes of salvation.
A more extreme patriarch had begun to suggest that the cursed little ones simply be culled, when on a moonless night, a sentry discovered Badul's best hunter secretly gorging himself on the drained corpses of the false mystics.
Year 4 of the Astral Age
After several years of humiliation and torture in his life as a prisoner, Archeus bade that Gergul be sacrificed to honour the Starry Lords for granting years of prosperity and good harvest.
On the night of the new moon, on the anniversary of Vendra's victory over Pundlo, an unprecedently numerous crowd of curious onlookers gathered to watch the grand ceremony, drowning the open aired circle of standing stones in a lake of people. Various whispers and murmurings unconsciously died down as Mantios climbed the modest marble dais at their centre. Here, beneath the dark starlight, there was a certain aura of power and awe cloaked over Mantios, his eyes seeming to burn and glow slightly in the darkness.
In solemn tones, he began to beseech the Eight Watchers Above to accept this offering of archon and wine and fruit and cloth and honey and finely scented woods, and rain down their blessings
***
As he sat in a position of honour, just outside the stone pillars, Arkhun seethed, barely heeding Mantios' prattle about the prophesied descent of the Starry Lords. Why were all these people hanging on the words of this soft, pampered,
foreign, dandy, who would faint dead away at the sight of blood. How could anyone know the gods better than Arkhun, who had heard their mocking laughter as he had danced on the edge of death, in the fiercest fighting against Pundlo's most stubborn defenders.
It should be you up thereIt
should be Arkhun up there! Mind overcome with rage and emotion, roaring wordlessly, Arkhun springs to their feet! Charging straight at Mantios with blinding speed, he smashed into the smaller man, causing Mantios to fly through the air and crash into one of the stone pillars.
Arkhun smirked. Just as he was about to declare himself the ultimate authority on the gods, an emerald flicker flashed across his vision. Mantios, burning with green fire streaked a blinding line in his sight, and then Arkhun was on the ground, a foot painfully squashing his face into the marble.
An angry clipped intonation, laced with threat, resounded in his ringing ears.
"
Submit."
His skull creaked.
***
Before the crowd could quite understand what was had happened, they saw a calmly smiling Mantios help up Arkhun. Broken nose bleeding profusely, Arkhun hesitantly accepted a sacrificial knife from Mantios, and under his guidance, blood spattered on white marble, and rich smoke wafted into the starry sky.
The Grand Ceremony was complete, and during the following festival of drinking, dancing and feasting, rumours of Mantios' defeat of Arkhun soon spread through Vendra.
Year 6 of the Astral Age
Arkhun, having long grown tired of the poorly concealed mockery in the faces of his peers in Vendra, leapt at the chance to lead the expedition to pacify the hillfolk. At the head of a hundred in gleaming bronze breastplate, Arkhun went deep into the wild hills and forests. Though the hillfolk were as fierce as ever, launching bloody night ambushes and lone parties of men disappearing forever, somehow there was much less reisstance than Arkhun had expected.
When they finally managed to find one of hillfolks shifting hamlets, Arkhun was shocked to discover the place a ghost town. Even more shocking, the few haunted survivors didn't flee or fiercely fight the invaders, but in their strange lolling dialect, begged the warrior host to kill the 'eaters' who had been devouring their hunters and foragers.
***
The eaters were strange deformed mutants, with green skin and bulging mouths and protruding eyes. Like a half-finished transfiguration turning a frog into a human. They fell upon the Verdran camp one dark night with a manic ferocity, grabbing warriors and dragging them into the shadows where sickening chewing sounded.
But Arkhun was not Arkhun for nothing. He rallied his men with a fierce battlecry, chasing after the Eaters, who had fallen into eating-trances, and were caught off-guard as the the Vendrian's pierced them with spears. After most of the Eaters were dead, Arkhun ordered some who had merely been wounded or maimed taken as war-trophies, to be paraded back to Vendra to show off the accomplishments of the pacifying expedition.
***
Vendra was shocked when only half the warhost who had set out returned, and even more shocked at the strange monsters they dragged back with them. Men and women gawked at the freaks, who hummed angrily and hungrily through their muzzled maws.
Wise Archeus called up many more brave warriors, to thoroughly cleanse the lands of Vendra of any lingering infection of such strange creatures. Mantios marched with them, wielding a massive bronze hammer.
Year 9 of the Astral Age
Archeus stared into the dark cells beneath his palace, where green shadows could be seen clustered together, bent low over a cow carcass. Beside him an animal trainer bowed obsequiously while babbling nervously, "If well fed, properly trained, and securely muzzled, the Eaters are amazingly strong and fierce fighters king! One has even defeated a bear in single combat!"
Eventually, Archeus' undecipherable expression blooms into an approving smile, "
Train an invincible honour guard, and you family will be wealthy."
Year 32 of the Astral Age
Many many Horse Archers invade from the east, but they do not do well in the hills and forests, and Vendra's ravenous armies defeat them and devour horses and men on the battlefield. Glory comes to Vendra, and dread and terror waft from them to their neighbours.
Year 35 of the Astral Age
Vendra the strong! Vendra the mighty! See their 10 cubit high cyclopean walls of granite! See the tribute flow from the vassal-cities of Engon and Lalusa! See the fat on their women, their men, their children!
And who do they thank? They thank the Eight Starry Lords, the watchers above. Small shrines of pools of clear water to reflect the starry sky are scattered throughout Vendra.
Ruled by their wiser and still youthful king Archeus, whose sons now seem older than their father. It whispered among the commonfolk that there was an assassination attempt, defeated by sharp-eyed, bug-eyed, eater bodyguards, and a sixth son sent into exile in the wilderness.
It is also whispered among the commonfolk that Archeus grows uneasy about Mantios' steady accumulation of more and more influence.
***
A celebrated, if aging, general, Arkhun, has been spending his twilight years bedding his wife and the many slaves taken in battle. Servants gossip in hushed tones of the dark sub-basement, to which Arkhun regularly carries dead cattle.
More than two dozen redheaded sons and daughters fill the ranks of Arkhun's family, most inheriting his strength and fighting will. In a bare room even more secret than the sub-basement, once a moon the family gathers to pay respects an idolless shrine, etched into the wall a crude transcription of the soundings of '
A'thak' in written Zenal.
Year 47 of the Astral Age
Mantios walks into Archeus private chambers. Age has begun to show quite clearly, wrinkling his face and arms, balding and greying his head, but step is still firm and spry, and gaze clear and terrible.
Archeus remains a young man in his prime, and welcomes Mantios with an easy smile and a firm hug, but the Eaterguard along the walls stay vigilant, maws straining against their bronze muzzles, drool staining their ceremonial uniforms.
Various thoughts flickers through Mantios before he lets out a slight sigh, "It seems now undeniable that the Starry Lords favour you with youth."
Archeus smiles enigmatically, "Perhaps."
Mantios frowns slightly, before consciously loosening his brow, "It is time for me to leave. I grow old, and I wish to see my birthplace once more before my end."
Archeus' practiced countenance of easy and control cracks slightly as surprise and shock overtakes his expression, "You depart? I thought you accustomed to your place and position here. Is something lacking?"
Mantios waves halfheartedly in dismissal, "It is merely I suppose, the nostalgia that comes to those of us who grow old. I have groomed a worthy successor, to intercede with the Starry Lords on your behalf. She is insightful and clever and has learnt all I have to teach. If you heed her and the Starry Lords, then no doubt Vendra shall stand forevermore. Fare thee well, and may we meet again among the stars."
And then Mantios is gone.
Year 48 of the Astral Age
It is a grand procession that enters Zanas that day, bedecked in embroidered silks from the far east, and gold and silver, with fine bronze spears and glinting helmets, and a palanquin carried by four strong redheaded bearers, whose entire outer surface appears to be inlaid with lapus lazuli.
Their wealth and status were obvious, and when it was learnt that they wished to settle in Zanas, a fine manse in the upper district was theirs.
***
Mantios was invited to parties, and invited in turn, and became firmly established of the upper circles of the city. Soon he was telling many distinguished patricians about the glories of the Starry Lords. The priests and the oracles and soothsayers liked not the outsider, this newcomer, infringing on their established sacred duties and doctrines and alliances and feuds, and verbal conflict and argument and disagreement was common.
The priests were mocking, the oracles dismissive, the soothsayers critical. Soon Mantios found himself getting once more excluded from most of the upper circle, except for a few bosom friends. After all, why choose this unproven newcomer and his strange patrons over the gods and mystic lineages that had made and kept Zanas the greatest city in the world?
Mantios smiled a well-worn smile, and it seems a fire began to burn in his devouring gaze. He began doing charity among the needy and unfortunate of Zanas, arranging for them professions and crafts, and housing and food.
He seemed to know the inner wants of all, as if some subconscious voice whispered in his ear, and easily built rapport and lifelong friendships with lowly people of all walks. He accumulated, over the seasons, a rocksolid foundation of support in the city.
Year 55 of the Astral Age
Mantios awoke, and found himself in a city made of shades of blue, the blue sun above shining down brightly. Everything seemed better... clearer somehow. Various diaries and notebooks and dream-journals were retrieved from metalbound travel chests, and Mantios began to pen a compilation of all their stellar knowledge on sheafs of papyrus...
Year 62 of the Astral Age
Growing ever more concerned about Mantios' mounting influence, and stubborn intransigence against the orthodox deities, religious leaders pressure patricians to exile Mantios and his followers from the city, and declare the Starry Lords unsanctioned demons.
***
Mantios walked into the lane crowded with temples housing all sorts of gods, from the King of Storms to the Lady of Calving. A serene smile graced his venerable, old but not decrepit, face, a massive hammer easily slung over his shoulder. Behind, thirty strapping redheaded warriors in
extremely expensive full bronze armour followed, wielding shield and sword. When they walked into the first temple, and started putting every attendant and holy man to the sword, toppling every statue and setting fires, all were so taken by shock and surprise at their gall to violate the sanctity of these sacred places, that they managed to work their way into a second temple before supplicants and priests began fleeing in alarm and shouting for help.
Mantios' long tolerance and forbearance and benumbed his opponents to his potential for physical violence. And long peace, secured old prestige which Zanas had been coasting on, had made them grow lax in their internal security.
As such, his party of temple-sackers had managed to into the district of the divine, and was half-way through razing the temples and slaughtering the clergy before Zanasian soldiers flusteredly began to encircle the area.
***
Corpses littered the streets, their blood pooling among the cobbles. Raging flames tinted the sky, around Mantios feet lay the last of the death-soldiers who had come with him, having blocked a volley of hurled spears from down the street for him. He smiled widely, happily, exuberantly, at the spectacle he had wrought.
"
So blue..."
A sudden sharp stab of pain. Confused, Mantios looks down and sees a sword sticking out through his chest, inserted from behind. Arkhun, a decrepit skeleton of his former might, yet still stronger than any Zanasian, laughed grimly, blood bubbling from his lips.
"
I've always hated you, you arrogant bastard."
***
Mantios was dead. Most of the temples of Zanas were depopulated, damaged by fire, many sacred relics broken, destroyed. Their storied phalanxes had lost hundreds at the hands of some backwards foreigners from the hills. The patricians were seething. They demanded retribution, they demanded a thunderous assault to once more re-assert Zanas' might and prestige. Warriors stormed into Mantios' former residence, burning any blasphemous materials he might have left behind, while searching parties were sent out to bring any of his escaped followers in to face the justice of the shamed elite.
Then the riots started.
Long suffering under the yoke of heavy taxes, high prices, and expulsion of the homeless, the destitute and desperate of Zanas, enflamed by a small spark of religious fervour and martyrdom that showed a crack in the façade of power and control of the patricians, rose and began to smash everything like a blind rabid beast. Ships filled with tin and copper and gold and olive oil and myrrh burned in the docks. Warehouses of grain emptied, merchants strangled and hung from arches, and legionnaires pelted to death by showers of stone.
Year 63 of the Astral Age
It took a few seasons and several violent slaughters before the patricians could at least cow the much reduced Zanas back into obedience and placidity. Despite their best efforts however, the Astral Cult remained stubbornly virulent, and all attempts to re-establish the old temples were met with vandalism and arson and graffiti of two blue overlapping broken rhombuses.
Ship after ship of captured astral cultists were sold off as slaves to Panx and Gerthag as the patricians desperately tried to recover their haemorrhaging fortunes. Even the most belligerent and aggressive of the rulers of Zanas had to put off a punitive expedition against the nest of these crazy stargazers, lest Zanas' rivals ever ready to exploit a weakness, strike while they were weakened and distracted.
Year 77 of the Astral Age
A proclamation from the Oracle of Benfol, first of all Oracles, the most respected, the mouthpiece of Divine-All, slowly permeates the civilized world.
Stars watch
Stars come
Do not watch
Do not know
Ill Omen
Forget this
Forget Stars
Look down
Year 83 of the Astral Age
An envoy in formal toga embroidered in various auspicious symbols in silver, strides imperiously into the audience chambers of Archeus, the thousand in phalanx with spear and great shield that came with him to Vendra ensuring his safe arrival and departure.
The envoy sniffed disdainfully as he took in the crude fretwork and decorations of the room, before settling his gaze on Archeus, "Your little backwater collection of hovels have displeased Zanas. In their magnimous mercy, the Patricians have given you the chance to save your little huddle from being flattened like the eyesore it is. You will give cattle. You will give grain. You will give slaves."
Year 100 of the Astral Age
Vendra chafes and strains under the yearly tribute they pay to Zanas. Their once fat women and men and children now becoming more gaunt. Mothers weep as grim soldiers rip away their young and strong sons, to serve in the mines and vineyards of Zanas until their bodies give out under the hard unending labour. Ever less is the gluttony of the Eaterguard tolerated, becoming more distrusted and hated by the general populace.
Sensing his grip on power is beginning to become unsteady, Archeus beseeches the elderly Starspeaker Shaprishka to officiate a great sacrifice to the Starry Lords, that they might relive Vendra of its burdens.
***
A grim sacrifice is carried out for a grim time. Stillborn babes gifted by numb mothers, three bears, unblemished except for the poison that felled them, a ruby the size of a man's heart, eighteen snowy white calves.
Shaprishka fell to her aching knees, raising her hands to the sky, internally wandered if anyone was actually listening, or if she was merely putting up a fool's show. Her teacher had seemed so sure, so convinced, so
obsessed. But she had never felt the touch of the stars, never heard them. Or seen them as anything but tiny pinpricks of light.
Still, she praised the Watchers Above as Mantios had taught her, voice slightly reedy with age, but strong and vigorous and charismatic. She asked the Green Lord to rain fire on their enemies. The Red Lord to keep them healthy. Blue to give wisdom. Pink to kindle care. Silver to gladden. Yellow to devour the courage and arrogance of Zanas. White to bring a great winter. Orange to bring visions.
There is a city named Vendra, which suffers under harsh tribute to Zanas...
There is a city named Zanas, where the houses are white, the patricians are powerful, and the ships are many...
There is a city named Engon, tributary of Vendra. Where a great river flows and plains stretch...
There is a city named Lalusa, tributary of Vendra. Where the great lake-sea beats against red cliffs and the marshes hum with life...
There is a city named Panx, great port of trade. Where spices and silk and copper flow, and sea is filled with ships...
There is a city named Gerthag, distant hegemon. In whose influence is mined tin, and whose timber has built the strongest fleet...
There are nine hamlets in the nearby hills and forests...
Gorngt
Fssshn
Glzzzl
Opleg
Uslxlx
Hyfsn
Segfrl
Wxkri
Trpyg
Many people seem to farm wheat and rye and beet and cabbage and keep pig and chicken and cattle...
There are hills and forests and rivers and lakes...
There is a vast sea, seemingly boundless...
There is a family clan of redheaded people, sons of Arkhun, strong and valiant, often holding important positions in Vendra... they have skin-knowledge of A'thak...
There is an elite military force of muzzled Eater Slaves-Soldiers, loyal to Archeus who keeps their hunger from driving them mad... they have skin-knowledge of Pep’pp’ehh...
There is a significant person named Archeus who rules the city of Vendra by right of blood... his family grows large and quarrelsome and rebellious, as he continues to stay young... he has skin-knowledge of all the Watchers...
There is a starspeaker named Shaprishka, successor of Mantios, who leads worship and sacrifice in Vendra. She has skin-knowledge of all the Watchers, but does not believe...
There is a deep forest crone, of a long line of deep forest crones, who knows and fears the stars, and has some real magic...
The Oracle of Benfol, whose name and past is consumed by her calling, dwells within the gaping bottomless pit of Benfol... sinking alone for weeks on end into solitude and darkness and contemplation, listening to the whispers and echoes rising from below...
Lexal is a young and dynamic patrician of Zanas, coming from a most august house...
Grekka leads Engon by virtue of his riches...
Lalusa is led by Laluna, she who is ordained by the gods...
Friln is the grandson of Arkhun by Eater mothers. Hidden away and rejected by the rest of the family clan, he has been trained as an assassin, though his heart is thick with resentment, with strength and deadliness even greater than that of his grandsire...
Svern is grandaughter of Arkhun by Pundlo slave-bride. The burning revenge-thirst of the Pundlo has been carried through to her across the generations, though she hides it well. She has been sent to Zanas to serve as concubine to a Patrician...
Grunl is a slave in the tin mines. His parents died when he was young, but from his slave-brothers he has heard the stories of the starry watchers who will break all chains... he is strong and charismatic, but with few words with which to showcase this...
Cerulean Paradise is a book of papyrus bound in lapis, written by Mantios, containing all his varied knowledge and insights on the stars. Embossed on the cover is two overlapping rhombuses. If read studiously, it gives skin-knowing of all the watchers. Particularly sensitive and insightful individuals might gain flesh-knowing of Ylsuivøsl. It is kept in secret as a holy relic by the crypto-astralists of Zanas...
The Watchers lurk far far away in the starry skies. Perhaps as they watch and muse on the world of their desire, they may begin to move closer to it. And perhaps they will make use of the potential energies of their prominence to effect the world of their desire.
livILvL
Prominence: 2 (0+1-1+2)
Breadth-Depth: Local-Skin (2 Prominence per century)
Opinion: Wavering Respect/Suppression
Summary: The people of Vendra believe the Starry Lords are useful supernatural patrons. They know of the eight watchers above and their prophesied descent. Each starry lord is assigned a colour and vague domain.
In Zanas the Astral Cult is seen as the refuge of the downtrodden by some, and cabal of malicious demons by others.
Some see the Silver Lord as patron of conspiracy and secrets.
Ylsuivøsl
Prominence: 2 (0+1-1+2)
Breadth-Depth: Local-Skin (2 Prominence per century)
Opinion: Wavering Respect/Suppression/Fanaticism
Summary: The people of Vendra believe the Starry Lords are useful supernatural patrons. They know of the eight watchers above and their prophesied descent. Each starry lord is assigned a colour and vague domain.
In Zanas the Astral Cult is seen as the refuge of the downtrodden by some, and cabal of malicious demons by others. The sign of Ylsuivøsl has been co-opted and completely distorted by Astral freedom fighters, its actual meaning completely lost.
Some believe in the blue paradise where their martyred souls will dwell forevermore in bliss.
Mgepr'luh
Prominence: 2 (0+1-1+2)
Breadth-Depth: Local-Skin (2 Prominence per century)
Opinion: Wavering Respect/Suppression
Summary: The people of Vendra believe the Starry Lords are useful supernatural patrons. They know of the eight watchers above and their prophesied descent. Each starry lord is assigned a colour and vague domain.
In Zanas the Astral Cult is seen as the refuge of the downtrodden by some, and cabal of malicious demons by others.
Some say the Orange Lord sharpens the mind and senses.
Akhethminphodzu
Prominence: 2 (0+1-1+2)
Breadth-Depth: Local-Skin (2 Prominence per century)
Opinion: Wavering Respect/Suppression
Summary: The people of Vendra believe the Starry Lords are useful supernatural patrons. They know of the eight watchers above and their prophesied descent. Each starry lord is assigned a colour and vague domain.
In Zanas the Astral Cult is seen as the refuge of the downtrodden by some, and cabal of malicious demons by others.
Some say the Green Lord shines brightly over battle and slaughter.
Ath'u Ath'u
Prominence: 2 (0+1-1+2)
Breadth-Depth: Local-Skin (2 Prominence per century)
Opinion: Wavering Respect/Suppression
Summary: The people of Vendra believe the Starry Lords are useful supernatural patrons. They know of the eight watchers above and their prophesied descent. Each starry lord is assigned a colour and vague domain.
In Zanas the Astral Cult is seen as the refuge of the downtrodden by some, and cabal of malicious demons by others.
Some whisper that the approach of the White Lord will herald a great winter that will end the world.
A'thak
Prominence: 2 (0+1-1+2)
Breadth-Depth: Local-Skin (2 Prominence per century)
Opinion: Wavering Respect/Suppression
Summary: The people of Vendra believe the Starry Lords are useful supernatural patrons. They know of the eight watchers above and their prophesied descent. Each starry lord is assigned a colour and vague domain.
In Zanas the Astral Cult is seen as the refuge of the downtrodden by some, and cabal of malicious demons by others.
Among the Ark clan it is told that Arkhun is the fleshly son of the Red Lord, and they are the chosen people, who will one day rule all peoples.
Pep’pp’ehh
Prominence: 2 (0+1-1+2)
Breadth-Depth: Local-Skin (2 Prominence per century)
Opinion: Wavering Respect/Suppression/Dread and Awe
Summary: The people of Vendra believe the Starry Lords are useful supernatural patrons. They know of the eight watchers above and their prophesied descent. Each starry lord is assigned a colour and vague domain.
In Zanas the Astral Cult is seen as the refuge of the downtrodden by some, and cabal of malicious demons by others.
Imprinted into the very bones and blood of the Eaters, is a terror and reverence for the golden lord of hunger, who remade them.
Astiara
Prominence: 2 (0+1-1+2)
Breadth-Depth: Local-Skin (2 Prominence per century)
Opinion: Wavering Respect/Suppression
Summary: The people of Vendra believe the Starry Lords are useful supernatural patrons. They know of the eight watchers above and their prophesied descent. Each starry lord is assigned a colour and vague domain.
In Zanas the Astral Cult is seen as the refuge of the downtrodden by some, and cabal of malicious demons by others.
It is said that the Pink Lord warmly gazes on love and marriage and elopement and adultery.
Author
Topic: Watchers in the Starry Sky (8/8): Second Astral Century (Read 1553 times)