(From exchanges between Turpis and Wayock.)
Nezzedin, to the Gor
"I come to you and your people offering trades, an exchange of skills in preparation for more concrete dealings between the deity I represent and the one who made you. To you and yours I wish to offer the secrets of communing directly with the gods in exchange for your skills at war- and weaponcraft. If you are willing, one amongst you could have the power to look upon Wayock Himself. What say you?"
What seemed to be the Leader of this small group of Ger looked upon this... Creature.
"One amongst us has looked upon Wayock himself. You will meet him."
One of the smaller, less muscle bound Ger quickly scurried to the side of the leader. He spoke,
"I am a Gor. Come, we will take the quick routes back to the city. I hope you don't like the dark."
The Gor motioned for the creature to follow. They left the lit mine shaft for a small, side tunnel. This tunnel barely fit the Gor, they travelled through this tunnel, in pitch blackness, for some hours. Passing unseen tunnels branching off. Eventually they came to a larger cavern. This one was lit, they continued through, ignoring the Ger, Gor and Gar setting about their works. They passed down a large, lit tunnel into a gigantic cavern. The cavern was full of buildings built in the middle of the cavern and some dug into the walls. It was a city, and underground city. In this huge cavern he saw Ger, and their smaller, faster cousins the Gar. He saw few Gor, for they shied from the light. The Gor guide to Nezzedin looked distinctly uncomfortable under the huge glowing fungus trees around the city, cultivated for their light. Many more moss and fungus lined the cavern walls, creating a perpertual day. They passed short, stout creatures. The Gor guide called them 'Dwellers,' they were almost as numerous as the Ger.
They continued through the streets of the city eventually they came to the central building, it was built up against a huge gate, obviously of divine hands, it was as tall as the cavern, and as wide. The Gor stopped at the top of the steps to this building.
"He is in. I will not go further."
Nezzedin approached the great archway and the building attached, marvelling at the construction both by divine and mortal hands. Already a mind honed by years of advising his militant father began to consider the possible applications of such building techniques. Nezzedin entered the building, rather more comfortable than the Gor had been with the unhealthy but nevertheless bright fungal lighting; certainly more so than he might have been with the harsh light of day, when daylight had still existed.
A figure sat at the far end of the hall on a carved stone throne. Nezzedin could not quite make him out yet, but he delivered his message regardless as he approached.
"I am humbled by the skill of your people," he said, the divine enchantment on his tongue translating the words. "Truly I have never seen such. My name is Nezzedin and I am of a distant people known as the Nezumi. I undstand that the one who brought me here is a Gor, though not all I have observed seem quite the same."
"I come representing the god Turpis, seeking the followers of Wayock. I assume, since Turpis sent me here, He wishes us to perhaps trade knowledge that may be of use to you. I carry the secrets of communing with the divine through special rites, and also the knowledge of how to create and tame fire. For my people both have proved deadly weapons of war, though perhaps you may be able to take them further. In return, I would request the teaching of my own people in such arts of war and construction as you have learned."
"If this is amenable to you, my Lord would also request an audience with your Master in His own realm, for he would not seek to enter without invitation."
On the throne was an average sized Ger. Looking at his features, all over his body were scars, he was missing two fingers on each hand.
"Nezzedin. I am the herald. I'm older than the moons above us, I'm older than the Gor and the Dwellers. I was here before your god was a god. Fire. Fire would be beneficial, so would these special rites. For you see, now days, the young are gtrowing rebellious against Wayock. They have not seen him do mighty things, they have not seen Wayock.
Right now I am the only priest, only disciple of Wayock, to commune with Wayock. Having more be able to do that, would be benefical."
The Herald stops for a moment, lost in his thoughts. Unmoving he stops for what seems like an age.
"I doubt you or your master will get into Wayocks realm. It is locked, there are two ways into it right now. The only way through to it, that I am allowed to speak in detail of, is upon the white horses of the Valkryie, as they carry the dead from the battlefield. The other is to find a bridge, upon an unassuming mountain, a bridge you cannot see if you are not upon this mountain, then cross thiss bridge. Into my lords realm. Even then I cannot assure you he will be there. Neither can I assure you, you will be welcomed with open arms."The Herald pauses again, for only a few minutes this time.
"I will speak with him. But do not hold any hope."
"Where that is concerned," said Nezzedin, "that is all we ask. On the next turning of the moons, I shall have sufficient time to teach your people one skill or the other, though the second may have to wait two cycles further. Which would you desire first, fire or the secrest of the rites? What would you be willing to teach my people in return?"
"Ever since you mentioned that these gifts are not... Gifts. I had decided what we will give you, I am absolutely sure Wayock will agree.
We will give you the knowledge of our metal working and weapon working."
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Within the hidden city of the Ger, Nezzedin had worked hard for the past months, passing on some of the secrets he knew to the elder Ger leaders. Means of starting fires by friction had been passed on, as well as the manifold techniques of varying its intensity, direction and spread. Some of the more ingenious Ger had already begun to make use of a piston of their own devising, a spring-powered device that stamped tinder with force enough to make it catch light.
Teach Populace (Ger & Subraces): Fire Use [1/2 AP]
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"Greetings, Genedin," came the voice from behind the aged Nezumi leader. Genedin snarled and turned to the smiling be-monocled human.
"Betrayer," spat the Nezumi. "You took my son and our Maker's power, and have given us nothing!"
"On the contrary, I have already fulfilled the second part of my deal. One of your people has been gifted with the knowledge of moulding weapons from native metals, of beating out armour from copper to protect himself. A chief. Well, not yet a chief, but I do have high hopes for him."
"You said you would teach me these things, deceiver!"
"No," said Turpis sharply. "I said that these secrets would go you to and to your city. I have given the knowledge of fire to you, and I have given the knowledge of armscraft to your city. Which of you will receive the final part of the bargain, well... That will depend strongly on who is in charge when next I return." The demigod smiled and faded into the shadows. Genedin shouted and swore, stamping in rage. Then he called for his chiefs; he would find this weaponcrafter, and find him before one of his rivals.
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Topic: Third Lords of Creation (Read 28407 times)