Nezzedin stood at the edge of the Imperial Grounds, the once forest-home of the Elven Empire. A burning, smouldering wasteland stood there now, trees hewn down and burned by Nezumi firestarters and axe-wielders, ravaged by the demands of war. The seat of the Empire had evidently been taken, though where the Nezumi that had taken it now stood could not be seen.
"And how was your trip?" came a voice from behind. Nezzedin turned to see his God sat on a tree stump in His familiar form, holding a crystalline beetle-shell of dark purple liquid. He sipped at it casually.
"Successful enough," Nezzedin said, bowing his head slightly. "I taught the Ger of divine communion and the use of fire, as I presume You intended me to?" Turpis nodded. "Did You get what You wanted?"
"Very much so." Turpis spread a hand at the devastation. Nezzedin raised an eyebrow.
"Don't misunderstand me," said Turpis. "I am not Velik Broj. Destruction and slaughter for its own sake appeals little to me. Nor am I simply interested in war, though I daresay Wayock will be pleased enough by how this turned out. No, I am afraid that this little conflict is part of a much greater game. One that, as a mortal, the rules of which are unknown to you."
"Are they to remain that way?"
"Yes," said Turpis curtly. He stood up and lifted the tree stump with one foot; it moved aside with surprising lightness. "Come, you will want to see your father and brothers."
Nezzedin looked down at where the stump had been; a narrow tunnel led down into the earth. He looked up again, but the God had vanished. Nezzedin clambered down into the hole.
The tunnels were strikingly familiar to Nezzedin, having lived amongst similar ones for many months. He could see here and there the signs of Gorrish pick-work and smoothing, though no signs of the Gor themselves. The tunnels had been dug unnaturally quickly, given how recent the battle must have been. Nezzedin thought of the Gor he had converted while in their home, then remembered the simple fact that his master was a deity. How simple an act would it be to simply slow, or cycle time itself to give the Gor enough to do work on this scale? Nezzedin laughed.
Mould Land: Genedos (1/6)
He passed nezumi blackfurs and truefurs as he strode through the tunnels, themselves dug into solid rock and high enough for a Gor to walk through, meaning ample enough space for nezumi. The rat-like people seemed largely fatigued, yet there was an undeniable sense of pride in achievement. A few tried to block him, then recognised his heritage and stood aside. A small blackfur escorted him to the centre of the catacombs.
At the heart of the maze of tunnels the rock had been smoothed out and neatly carved into tiles. The walls were largely blank, but a few pieces of artwork had been engraved here and there; the slaying of Emperor Datan, the razing of the Imperial Grounds, a scene involving a figure Nezzedin recognised as Turpis and an older human in some sort of building with lots of shelves and small tablets, a nezumi eating some cheese (he did wonder about that one). He eventually reached Genedin's private quarters.
His father lay on a straw mat, grievously wounded from stab wounds. He remained dressed in dented copper armour with a copper spear by his side, both buffed to a shine in anticipation of his final moments. His breathing became laboured in the shock of seeing his son, yet he regained control. Nezzedin cast an eye around the room; his six brothers all stood waiting, watching their father and their eldest brother in turn. He ignored them and knelt by his father.
"Father," he said, bowing his head. "You have attained victory."
"At some cost," his father chuckled, little bits of blood in the spittle at his lips. "But yes. Vengeance is mine, and I have returned. If I had lived, perhaps I could have united the Empire beneath us after this. Now, though, I suppose I must leave it to you." He smiled weakly.
"The Emperor fought better than I had imagined," Nezzedin considered, looking over Genedin's wounds. Genedin laughed harshly.
"The Emperor died like a squealing pig on my spear, begging 'til his last. No, this came from our people."
"Our people?" Nezzedin raised an eyebrow.
"That bastard god of yours gave the tricks of these" - he tapped his shining armour - "to one of my chiefs instead of me. I wrested the secrets from him, but it gained him much prestige. Once the Imperial Grounds were ours, traitors in my camp turned on me and sought to steal the glory." He spat, giving a dark glance to one or two of his sons. "Most are dead. Some remain hiding, waiting for my end. Well, it comes soon enough, and I will go to the Void as my forefathers did before me. Velik Broj awaits me." He closed his eyes for a moment and Nezzedin thought he had reached his end. Then Genedin spoke.
"The Empire must be re-united under us," he said, his voice cracking. "Otherwise the Elves will just rise again and we will be slaves once more. You must do this, Nezzedin, for you alone have the strength."
"No, you must not," came a darkly familiar voice from the doorway. Nezzedin bared his teeth at the arrival of his stern-faced God.
"My place is with my father!" he snapped.
"Your place is with me." Turpis strode over to his disciple and touched his shoulder. Nezzedin felt a tingling sensation run through his body. "And so long as you serve me and retain my power, it will remain that way."
"Traitor," breathed Genedin. "You turned on me..."
"No, I held my word both spoken and unspoken," replied Turpis harshly, kneeling beside the dying nezumi. "I merely offered you knowledge, but you desired vengeance and power, and I gave you both. That this is the cost of such an endeavour should not matter. Regardless of your dying this day, regardless of what its outcome, you will be remembered. It is at least as great an immortality as that your son possesses."
"My son?" managed Genedin, feeling the last ounces of strength drain from him and the thin tendrils of the Void reaching for his soul.
"Oh, yes. So long as your son serves me, age will not claim him. He may still die, but his mortal life is halted. Is that sufficient, Genedin? First of the Nezumi Emperors?"
Genedin could manage no words, but a thin, bitter smile crept across his lips before he passed forever into Velik Broj's grasp. Turpis stood to address his disciple and Genedin's other sons.
"The price of your shade of immortality, Nezzedin, is to serve me and to give up any significant role in mortal affairs beyond that I dictate. A healthy measure of free will for a healthy measure of life. You have a scant decade remaining, my disciple. Trust me, I know. If you wish, you may leave my service and pursue the glory of your father's legacy. You may do so at any time and your life will resume. You will age, you will die. Or you may remain with me and stand untouched as the centuries pass, retaining a measure of your own freedom and still able to enjoy many of the fruits of life with the eternal vitality of youth."
Nezzedin glared at his God, then softly at the body on the floor. He nodded mute assent. Turpis carried on.
"As for you, younger sons of the First Nezumi Emperor, it is now your responsibility to fulfill your father's legacy - or not, should you wish it. Remember however that only one of you can be Emperor, and that any or all of you can die. Make your alliances, make your vendettas, do whatever you feel necessary. I strongly encourage you to seek my favour in these matters, and the favour of my priests." He clapped his hands. "Chop chop, then. The world awaits your actions."
Turpis led Nezzedin through a door into a hallway, away from the rising squabbling of his brothers. As they walked, Turpis' gait changed and Nezzedin felt some distinct quality in the air alter. His God seemed to grow stronger, more influential. A smile curled on Turpis' lips.
"That went about as well as planned."
"Something to do with rules that I, as a mere mortal, am not privy to?" Nezzedin asked drily.
"Indeed," Turpis chuckled.
Gain Portfolio Element: Politics (3/6)
The pair arrived at a cavernous dome, smoothed by unseen Gor labour and possessing a number of archways carved into the sides in all directions. Some led to further tunnels, others were simply a carved arch over bare stone. Nezzedin judged the dome itself to be nearly half a mile in diameter and momentarily broke step in awe; the architecture nearly, nearly matched that of the impressive works of the Ger city, though this dome had a planned feel that the organic growth of the Ger homeland did not. A thin, shining light came from the apex of the dome. Nezzedin peered at it.
"Is that a... tree?"
"A branch. Actually still connected to that world-tree Thiliazari grew. I'm hoping He doesn't notice that one of the limbs is sticking into a portal. He might take issue with that." Turpis shrugged. "Or not, but it's a temporary fix either way. Sustaining a gate for such a small endeavour is little difficulty for this chamber."
The pair reached the centre of the dome, rather quicker than Nezzedin would have thought. He suspected Turpis might be adjusting time for convenience again. The smooth and featureless floor was interrupted by two pearly-white orbs set into a swirling mosaic of black and white tiles, about six feet in diameter.
"They were cut out of two rocks from beyond the edges of this world," Turpis said, squatting by one of the stones and running his hand over it. "Each one has circled through the void beyond many times, travelled to places beyond your imagining, and even through the very planes themselves before coming here. They were collected by Wayock, whom you know, in return for a favour. The scroll buried beneath them came from Alether, whom you do not."
"Alether?"
"The God whose domain commands the magic of mortals, and of knowledge and I fear soon enough of secrets." Turpis pursed his lips disapprovingly. "I had hoped for that one myself, but I shall still retain some influence in that area regardless."
"Another of those things I don't know about?"
"Quite. But allow me to enlighten you some on the matter. Each of the Gods has great power, some greater than others, but each claims dominion of a certain aspect of existence. We are woven into the very fabric of the world, you could say. Not accurate, but true enough. Wayock is most clearly God of War, but He also maintains strong influence on matters of orbit." Turpis paused as he saw Nezzedin's blank look. Astronomy was not really a known subject on Nitomushul. "Things that pass through the void beyond the world," he conceded. "The important thing is that He holds influence over aspects of travelling, something I do not. Similarly, Alether's dominion of Knowledge and Learning gives Him aspects over divination and the revelation of truths that I have only tenuous grasp over. Yet through these tokens of Theirs, I may tap into such sources of power as They control."
"So the grand scheme of yours is..?" Nezzedin asked, not exactly impressed with Turpis' posturing.
"Travel."
Turpis snapped his fingers and the many arches around the dome flickered to life, shimmering with images of distant places. Nezzedin recognised instantly his home swamps, the burnt-out Imperial Grounds, the hidden city of the Ger and even the mysterious world he had glimpsed through the portal in the Ger city. Yet others he did not; an expansive ocean, a strange building wreathed in fire where insectoid fish flew over seas of uncooling magma, a great mountain, an incredible and terrifying realm of oil and machines. Turpis snapped his fingers again and the arches winked out, replaced by blank stone again. Nezzedin heard faint plinking sounds from the stone of the archway where the image of the fire-realm had appeared.
"I call it The Halfway House. A sort of meeting place for all mortals. A hub of travel, if you will. Each of these archways has the capacity to maintain a permanent portal to a realm, any realm, so long as another deity does not prevent it. You might think me a deity who relishes disorder, but this could well unify the world in its own way. The kind of unification brought about by commerce and trade, by negotiation and compromise. The kind of unification I'm interested in. That little stunt with the gates ought to let the Others know what's going on at any rate. I'm sure They'll contact me soon enough about whether they do or do not want a link to this place themselves."
"You want me to manage a trading post?" Nezzedin raised an eyebrow, but Turpis waved a hand dismissively.
"No, no. You have more important things to do. I'm sure I can find someone to run this place."
"Then what of me, Master?" Nezzedin asked, caring little for such grand schemes.
Turpis snapped his fingers again and one of the arches flickered into life, displaying a glassy black beach by the massive cavern of where the sea had once sat. Nearby a stream poured water into the great abyss, though it had never quite recovered from the destruction wrought by Rhuax.
"You are to travel to the ruins of Ynoclia, Nezzedin. A war has been brewing between the Gods, a war perhaps averted, though we should be wary of resting just yet. Still, even without the war itself, there has been much destruction. Many opportunities lie in its rebuilding. Your tasks are twofold - first, to visit the citizens and help them rebuild. Second, to make contact with the Rhuaxian cult there. It is time for us to make overtures of peace to Rhuax, in the hope that He may accept a place in this newer order of the world."
Create Artefact: The Halfway House (6/6)
Game Use: The Halfway House acts as an amplifier for travel magic. The owner of the House may connect any two planes or locations at the cost of 1AP, but the House itself must serve as an intermediary. Any other deity may connect to the House at the cost of 1AP and effectively use it as a hub of transport to any other (accessible) gate connected to the House.
The owner of a linked portal, or the owner of the House, may allow/deny/specify access through that portal whenever they wish. For example, if Rhuax only wishes servants of Garish to enter through a portal to Istomoshur, then that will be the case unless the owner of the House dictates otherwise. The creator of the portal may disengage the portal as a free action, however, without the owner of the House being able to reactivate it without creating a new portal entirely. (So if you don't want to be invaded by Garish through the House and the owner refuses to let you keep it locked down, you can just turn the portal off completely.)
If the House is ever destroyed, all portals linked to it will collapse instantly.
As an added benefit, all mortal spells relating to travel and divination are enhanced within the Halfway House as if in a realm with the Enhanced Magic trait.
Requirements to Create: At least 1AP from a deity whose portfolio relates to Divination, and at least 1AP from a deity whose portfolio relates to Travel. Total cost 3AP.
Author
Topic: Third Lords of Creation (Read 28392 times)