The Crooked Lands II: WIP Lists!

 

 

Everyone is related

Barrows of the Noble Fae:

• Serís
• Tīshan
• Ethine
• Viryid
• Lyazúr 
• Valík
• Indaeus 

Legendary Godlike Ancestors of Heroes and Such:

• Apochros
• Ikes
• Pellenthea
• Krassionia 
• Trasikos
• Ikodon
• Zairos

Basileans:

• Queen Anne
• Queen Lilit
• King Aekin
• Duke Eishan
• Duke Natan
• Duke Uther
• Duchess Sintil
  

 

 

A Story as Old as Time

When they finally caught up to Father One-Eye, he had already put himself up on Grandfather Scale's Crooked Apple Tree for a quarter-moon (he lies and says it was more days, 9 sometimes, dispensing wisdom like the sweets from his pocket, the best thing anyone has had until melting away like the Spring thaw). He watched the wheeling of the Procession of Stellar Angels, the epicycles of the Mad Ones, and below the Firmament, the Tempest of Rage and the Undeath'd Lords' Ride. 

In the Glory, and the Geometry, and the Fury, he made 18 Runes, plucked 18 seeds from the Tree, spoke 18 Letters of the Name of God that had never before in all of history been uttered. There were some other things too, such as: he finally ate the Vulture who harried him and his organs, he learned why his eye had been torn out and why there were things etched onto the inside of his skull, Sir Viglaf fetched down Father One-eye by piercing him through with the Ash Spear while possessed by the spirit of St. Barra, and of course Lady Susurrus came to the tree and shared her pomegranates and honey (though that's less spoken of among polite society; we all know how that turned out).

These are the 18 Spells:

1.  Cauldron of Emotions' Simmer [*slowly cause an emotion **cause an emotion against natural inclinations or spread the feeling out amongst a group]
2. Umbral Grievance [*barf up waves of darkness **barf up creatures (if you've recently Feasted)]
3. Hazardous Incendiary Field [*metal sparks, water boils **   ]
4.   Evoluting Consumption [*   **    ]
5. Omnidialectical Insistence [*become more noticeable in presence, and become audible at great volumes ** become incredibly convincing in what you say]
6. Firesprites Cavorting Waltz [*  ** ]
7. Unfettering [*   **   ]
8. Gravity's Arrow [*levitate, float  **jump great distances] 
9. Sludge [*it's coming out of the cracks **it's coming out of you, directed]
10. The Boring Hole [*just that, big enough for a person or two  ** ....but it goes somewhere else ]
11. From Foam the Waves [*turn to foam ** enact tidal forces on bodies of liquid ]
12. Slip Away [*fall into "REALMS" just a little **choose what to bring or what not to bring from around you]
13.  Take Down the Body From Yon Tree [* **  ]
14. A Really Long Beam [*bzzzzzt bounces around until it shines upon the sky  **    ]
15. Quiet the Flame [* extinguish heat or fire **slow down some instance of Psychic Flame]
16. Whippering Rein [*   **    ]
17. Pocketsfull of Candies! [*    **   ]
18. Dance Out of Chaos [*   **    ]

 

 

Everyone is a Human!

Choose what type of "human" some more! 

Knight Errant
-Questing! Oaths! Longsword! Maybe something to ride?! (preferably a horse; snails are too slow) Jousts and duels! Getting hauled off to hermitages to heal! Sweet, sweet escutcheons!

Hunter
-6 Things You Might Have
1. bag of rocks and a pair of shears
2. long match fired musket
3. either a peregrine, a kestrel, or a merlin
4. a singing axe
5. soft striding boots and a feathered thinking cap
6. The Snare (a dragon's jaw and a rope of the hair of a princess)

-Whatcha hunt?
1. Dragon
2. Razerí
3. fine fowl
4. hoofed beast
5. ghosts
6. outlaws

-Whereya from?
1.trackless wastes
2.endless svannah
3.mighty forest
4.The Library
5.The Garden
6.The City

Thistle Child
-You are a princess 1)enchanted 2) frozen 3)bramble locked 4)incorporealized in a mirror or a lake or something. You're an old man who rested in a ring of mushrooms. You are a head-in-the-clouds type of sensitive artistic bent. You are actually a youth who was grown in a 1) thistle bush 2) rose bloom 3) cabbage patch 4)peach tree and came into the Crooked Lands fully formed, with a vague memory of (dreams) another life. You might be able to hold your breath to fly a bit, you probably speak truth of the future (a bit, and no one but your friends believes you if so), you can talk to wee creatures perhaps, or walk into trees and out another (as long as it isn't currently occupied). Good natured. Probably looking for a way home.

 

{{More incomplete and incoherent ramblings! About a game? A place? Who knows?!}}}

The Crooked Lands I: WIP Brainstorm

 

Vitality fuels everything

Start with 5 HD to mark your vitality, gain one every level 

There are lots of ways to gain XPs:
Finding a new Floor in a Horrible Maze
Stepping foot in a Named Place
Defeating something Terrible and Potent
Feasting with a Lord or Lady in a Greate Hall, or a Horror in a Dream Hall
{a bunch more!}

 How much to leeeevel up? Who tf knows yet! [Probably a few points per level with things like the list conferring 1 or 2 depending]

Stats:

Roll 1d6, arrange to taste to Brutal, Subtle, and Arcane

 1-3  1, 1, 0
 4-5  2, 0, 0
 6     3, 0,- 1

Brutal +1/level towards damage when hits armor [and splash to vitality]
| Battering ram  |
| Hauling            |   +hitting
| Scavenging      |

Subtle +1/level taken to hit vitality over armor threshold
|Parkour             |
|Tinkering          |     +dodging
|Skulking           |

Arcane +1/level to technical effect [targets, damage, duration]
|Magic               |
|Technology       |   +skills
|Languages        |

 

We're just going to be using a d20 and a couple d6s!

Hit Thresholds:
5+ Melee
10+ Missile
15+ Armor

Armor has 6, 4, 2 hits for Plate harness, maille, gambeson
Shields soak 1 or 2 hits but break if damage rolled = soak

 

Difficulties (probably 2d6 + mods):
medium 7
hard 9
exceptional 11
legendary 13
otherworldy 15

 

Everyone is a Human! 
Choose which kind of "human" :

Hobp
-can squeeze under doors, between rocks, finger into locks, eye into peepholes. With enough time can squeeze through the smallest crack. Soft edges, and a hearty jiggling healthiness. Quite friendly, very sociable, and like to cuddle.

Auf
-Graceful and angular externally, inside made of a spidery, multijointed leg for each decade alive. Props up ethereal alien beauty that is really just 999 insects that may [butterfly: fog cloud, spider: web, flies: {buzzing-silence?}]

Ďral
-born from the mixture of skeleton and sinews. Hungry until eats enough meats for muscles, itching (or laughing ticklish) until taking enough skin or furs to contain its meats. May trade up eyes, tongue, even brain. Usually carries a beautifully woven sack. Really, really hard to kill

 

 

{{{Just needing to clear the palate from thinking constantly about Zero Coherence, my "it's quite serious and will 100% work" game that is endlessly in construction, so a breezy braindump about some silly rpg. And I wanted to say: Hi everyone!! <3}}}

The Bright Spans Pt 5: Monks, Princesses, and Assassins

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

 

The effect of the elven slow-time regions, and spaces locked in sleep or thorns or ice, would prove to have multiple consequences.

For some, the experience within one of these regions would lead to a connection to the underlying precepts of the Saints. These 12 venerated figures are said to exist perfectly in one moment in the Universe, therefore may choose their moment of departure, or see the flow of everything around them, perfectly. So, Sageism, both meaningful and practical, has taken hold of the major portion of the spirituality in the Spans. The Saints are worshiped in a group as well as individually. Sageist monks help the populace within a number of distinct spheres, often working useful trades for communities, such as St. Ydes monks making ferments and elixirs, or those who spread the word of St. Barra making paper. 

Many of these monasteries have become renowned for the wisdom of their Priors and Prioresses, the quality of their goods, or the skills of their warriors. The largest, most ancient edifice to the Saints is known as Sternhome Abbey. Set just north of the mountains of Lys Yraht within Azageer, Sternhome became the central gathering for many of the Orders of Knights, and Siblings-in-Arms, and is a voice of reason, if not powerful soldiery, to reasonably quell some of the ambitions of the Imperator. There are permanent representatives from the Holy College of Menders in Splinterlight, the Drakeswells Assembly, and Order of Penitents of the Sickle Moon, as well as one or two Knights of the Glassflame Ordinances, strange eldritch Mok-elves from Balefire.

The highest ranking among the monks and clerics of the Saints are said to have wondrous powers, and many are reported to have incredible life-spans, known to have been practicing their mantras and meditations for many ages. Also, Sageist monks are able to exist in the Iridescian Wakes, a dream-blasted land, that makes the human mind into something different existing in multiple states of reality. The elfs who do not dream as men do walk there, but they are known to slip between the Dreamlands where the Elf King rules and the real world where the Wizards do, as easily as one might be swept up by a riptide and cast far out in the ocean. So, some of the greatest shrines are kept in the Wakes by ancient monks who simply wait for the one who will come to them and ask politely to combat in words or skill, winning knowledge, glory, or the chance to be the one who then sits in meditation. 

Through the elf-magic that enchanted them, many of the Princesses (most actual princesses, though any who was temporally and physically displaced by the machinations of the elfs) found themselves in the Dreamlands. The Dreamlands are sometimes also called the Elflands, or Islands Upon the Astral Sea, or by scholars and those in the know, Confluence. They are a land of conflict and war between the Elfking and the Trollking, with human forces having recently gained footholds and settlements there. Great edifices dot the main island, arches and standing circles which hold the key to limitless travel. 

Upon these islands drifting through a strange space, and especially the main site called Confluence, the enchanted "sleepers" find themselves awake and aware. Sometimes in great danger, with luck and perseverance, a Princess could amass great experience. Time moves differently in the Elflands and for some, a lifetime (or a few) might pass before being awakened in the Spans. Of the few who have been rescued and returned, or awakened through whatever means, one gave up her claim upon the region of Edelsen north of Erseta, and defeated, so becoming, a Ceramic Knight herself: Ser Samarges the Charger.

However, the most well known Princess, and the first to awaken just after the ice pushed back to the mountains of Lys Yraht east of Burnside, was Rosamonde of Tenrow. The Rose was awoken when three Knights-Errant, wounded already, sought shelter in an ancient ruin covered in thorns. They were pursued by a member of that most despised of Orders, a bewicked Candle Knight. Though no one but the four knights and the princess really know what happened, Rose dispatched the implacable, flame-licked Lord Bazmagorth. 

In Tenrow, the region of the Valelands east of Mirador Forest, the first awakened princess established Rosewood Estate, and declared it a sanctuary for any who entered. With the skills and power she picked up from her time in the Dreamlands, and a fair bit of  political effort, The Rose was able to enforce her decree: any who came to the Estate, and did not violate the policies, would be safe from harm. Even the Wizards of the towers would be hesitant to defy this autonomy within the Spans now. And when the need for warring factions to meet in talks or diplomacy, all the way to country or Imperial-level needs, Rosewood Estate is often the site for these conferences. 

Additionally, the three largest Guilds that oversee commerce and trade not officially sanctioned by governments nor mercantile agreements in the Spans operate out of the Rosewood Estate. Clarity Wainwright, having traveled through the wastes established the Far Lykinia Trading Co. Vindri Alair became First Sword of the Golden Wheel, a title originally bestowed upon the treasurer of a mercenary company, and soon expanded to oversee the final disposition of goods found in various military campaigns. And finally, Manfred Jerome of the Billingsclyde family, known as Luxurious Sneed owns Billingsclyde Mercantile, the ultimate repository for many fine goods. None have left the Estate in many years now, and are most often found arguing with one another over politics, or wines, or investments between their extensive business meetings. 

Of course, not all noble houses lost heirs. Some gained great renown and power as a few of their members, through martial prowess, surviving adventuring, arcane studies, or sheer good fortune, thrived in the interim between the Great Rectification and the dawning of the Bright Spans. One family, the Crestfalls, originally from the Valelands near Tenrow (and, in fact, distant relatives to Rosamonde) gained something of a reputation as deadly fighters and skilled enchanters. Equally comfortable dueling as well as striking from subterfuge for diplomatic purposes, they were eventually kindly asked to reduce their exploits by the Kings-in-Waiting, the council of rulers who oversee the Vale. However, these same nobles saw the need for a means of balancing power with the many powerful individuals walking the land, so filled the Crestfall coffers to renovate their vacation properties at the eastern borders of Zelemja. 

The great sprawling mansion, simply itself called Crestfall, overlooks the cliffs that make up what is considered the far end of the Bright Spans. The family itself has grown dramatically, with many people of unknown origin claiming the badge of the gauntleted hand holding an apple with a dagger through it, or the rampant wyvern with a crown around it's neck, both considered symbols of the House. 

When someone needs to be found, and brought to justice (one way or another), and is beyond normal means, the Crestfalls are contacted, and for a fee, the threat is removed. This is primarily the case with rogue wizards who become book-mad, or spell hungry, and begin preying on magic-users of lower skills, killing them for their Tower's unique grimoires. It is "lawful", and in fact considered part of the learning process, for apprentice magic-users all the way to established thaumaturges to duel for the knowledge the other possesses. However, the agreement among the wizards who have these fighting students, is the contests should be fair, and agreed upon, by those of similar power. If an upcoming mage is coerced into a foolish duel, or blithely killed, their fellows are bound to demand justice. But open retribution might be seen as the start of open hostilities, and (almost) none of the wizards who hold Towers, much less the ruling Archmages wish to see outright war. So, often it is agreed upon that a Crestfall specialist team will take care of the problem. 

Although each country or region within the Spans has their own laws, independent magic and martial specialists are often seen plying their skills as bounty hunters to find those wanted. There are a good many guilds at various locations, with more or less power, but the only individual with a similar reputation to the Noble Assassins resides in Vynika. The Bandit Kingdom, really a messy city made of detritus washed to the northern shore of the Salt Sea, makes the greatest wine in the Spans, distrusts rulers and mages (except their own), and houses Stodderbonge, The Beggar King. If those who make deals of illicit nature are being double-crossed, or contracts are being broken, the Beggar King's assassins and mountebanks, found throughout the land, may be activated to take care of the more shadowy business. 

[It should be noted that these various guilds are known among the Tower Mages across the land. Not only to keep the peace within the culture of spell-duels, but also since it's considered perfectly reasonable that thieves will attempt to steal or otherwise make away with treasure, information, and rare items that wizards hoard. This is a large part of the reason for insane dungeons, trap-filled wizard towers, and fortified enchanted mansions among the magic-using types. They build these edifices with interlopers in mind, both as a challenge and a means of great entertainment, and as a way to tell the world that they have the means to hold those powerful artifacts and books and creatures. Gentlemen and women thieves are well regarded, swashbuckling into these deadly edifices, risking it all for their reputation, or as a clash of wits with some architect of the unknown. 

And the "Mercantile Guilds" reap the profits, disseminate the items back into the world for adventurers and princesses to acquire. Or to trade back to the wizards who so covet wizardy things thought lost.]

 

Aethir

 These are currently 8 known divisions:

• Terrexine, the Great Wyrm behind the Gate of the North Wind, whose trophy is the Voidstone
  
• Regencia, the Great Wyrm behind the Gate of the West Wind, whose weapon is the Myrthslaite Claíomh
  
• Vizerium, the Great Wyrm behind the Gate of the South Wind, whose relic is the Mirrorfont Cauldron
  
• Potentuum, the Great Wyrm behind the Gate of the East Wind, whose device is the Gnarled Branch of the Equilibrius Tree
  
• ShKTmTh, the celestial dragon called the Crane-Who-Walks-the-River-of-the-Sky, or the Galaxy Spider, rolls the Moon to the Throne of Heaven each night
  
• The Baleful Gods, forces of Radiance who sit behind the Throne of Heaven, each a season unto themselves
  
• Ti-amtum, called Abyss, who would swallow the Moon and pour through the Throne, tide maker, the First Serpent, beloved of the Universe
  
• Astar/taea, come from the same Elsewhere as the Baleful Gods, but changed upon crashing to the World, now always unfolding a breath into the future, the twilight glow upon the Horizon

 

Terrexen Aethir (sometimes Interrexen) , informally North-borne. The metal named after the Wyrm of the North, terrexine is a featureless super-black, and may be used to power sorceries and technologies dealing with manipulating delimitations in time and space. It is unknown where terrexine originates from, as samples are only found in caches of perfectly geometrically shaped units. Dating gives impossible values, usually from a time in the future far beyond most theoretical transition points.

North-borne aethir tend to wear black, though a some, especially Wizard-Lancers, wear all white. The Plain Guard wear grey the false color seen when one's eyes are closed. They tend to have swept back hair of black, as well as elongated, narrow eyes of dark blue. Their faces look drawn, pulled back from a narrow nose, a sardonic lilt to their wide mouths. Terrexen are usually average height, just under 7 ft, built a bit wider than most Aethir across the shoulders, and tend toward a bit more muscle. They tend to be the least interested in understanding what others want, and will bear down whatever power, concentration, or force they can to solve an issue an issue through sheer force, or sheer endurance. 

 

Regencine Aethir, informally West-borne. The metal named after the Wyrm of the West, regencia is a range of platinums that have a shine or a glow that can be brought to emanate from within. It is used best in the crafting of weapons of extraordinary potency, as well as objects of incredible resiliency and artistic significance. Stones fallen from the sky, having been bathed in the light of a daytime moon are the commonest source of regencia, though other repositories have been found, mostly within the interior of isolated volcanic islands.

West-borne aethir prefer rose metallics, as well as flat silver, with reds from blood red to blush tending to be paired with indigo or grey. Brown streaked golden or auburn hair, wavy and wildly mussed, or long and flowing. Eyes wide under full brows, hazel, with the outer border a glimmery silver, or the iris an odd dull slate. Slender and tall, tending over 7 ft, graceful in an anticipatory vein. Considered the most easily agreeable division, Regencine find opportunities to share a drink or a duel or diplomatic words whenever possible.

Vizerian Aerthir, informally South-borne. The metal named after the Wyrm of the South, vizerium is gold in color, often with sparkling flakes seen in scratches or burnishing on the surface. The metal is often integrated into constructs, architecture, and airships because of it's propensity toward assisting with flight, manipulating mass, and changing the effects of gravity. It is only found within mountain peaks of exceptional elevation, so is difficult to extract without previous means of reaching those heights.

South-borne aethir will always be found in rainments mainly of gold, but will choose accents of any color, an off-white and a deep green being significant because of the two largest family groupings' preferences. Upturned eyes ranging from a nearly solid light brown to gold, sharp, high cheekbones, dark brown hair shining with metallic highlights, full lips and long ears, they tend to have an intense look. Whether in anger, or concentrating deeply, or creating with some craft, they always seem vital and full of energy.

Potentuan Aethir, informally East-borne. The metal named after the Wyrm of the East, potentuum is most likened to chrome blue. It is prized by sorcerers because of its flexibility and potency; arcano-technically processed correctly it can be used in place of any of the other aetherian metals, as well as the more well known control crystals of the Graeshen. Deposits of potentuum may be found anywhere, though the combinations of weather events and natural and unnatural materials to produce it is very rare.

East-borne aethir will wear deeper shades of blue, and will pair it with brown, earth tones found especially in any gear or additional accoutrements. In study and repose, they seem to enjoy purples, especially when paired with details of silver, such as stars and crescents. They often have long noses, eyes of incredible bright, clear solid colors, though nearly obscured with a half-lidded, tired or seemingly distracted look. Thin lips and pointed chins, they are most likely to have silver or white hair in older years, though younger East-borne may have any range of recognizable colors. Tallest of the aethir, some will walk hunched or oddly loose-limbed and bent over with mechanical and arcane staves. Invariably, these Potentuans can easily stand to their full height in moments of greatest dramatic effect, or upon necessity of physical presence.

Lunar Aethir, informally "of the Crane Spider". Lunar stone comes directly from the great sphere of the moon that ShKTmTh pushes across the sky to nightly close the Throne of Heaven. Sometimes called God-shell, it is highly valued for its uses in a multitude of alchemical and technological arts. Additionally, moon-silver has been mined directly from the surface at some point, and is known to be contained in the largest stones that fall from the glowing orb. Moon-silver coins are among the most valuable monetary units within the Aetherian Empire, with their inner glow reflecting that of the current phase of the Sun when the ore broke away.

Aethir of the Crane Spider typically wear loose fitting clothes, often gathered by strips wrapped around arms, legs, or waist, in tones of off-white, sometimes beige, but most often a light grey. Their large eyes often are hued a bright green, though silver and very pale brown have been seen within some of their members. Fairly small mouths on angular faces, paired with their large eyes, give many an intense, focused look in concentration, and satisfied humor in relaxation. They are not predisposed toward any particular shade of hair, but tend to wear their fine, straight hair very long, perhaps in response to their slightly below average height. Often found in advisory positions, sometimes with greater power than the public figure they advise.

Radiant Aethir, informally called by family groupings based on the standard spectral colors. The light from the sun, known to be the alien intelligences called the Baleful Gods, shifts depending on which god sits in the Throne of Heaven. Those who are especially adept at formulae and wards, often couched in terms of technomystical schematics, are able to bind a bit of the radiation to themselves, and so draw upon a type of primordial magic. They bring into their own heads a bit of the gods themselves: Angel-, Demon-, or Djinn-fire. These teachings have spread into the human lands, and so-called clerics have proliferated, practicing Aetherian sorcery, particularly in the southern desert expanse.

The various Radiant aethir, of course, tend toward dress in the color of their spectral family groupings, but will add the colors of families with which they have alliances with, or are favorably disposed toward. Some of their most powerful Channelers will mantle themselves with the colors that only exist in the dreams of the Baleful Gods, such as a humming, chemical tasting pink-like color, or the anti-color of Empty. Since their long rule of the Aetherian Empire from Mokbalatar, the Radiant aethir have made a tradition of wearing masks primarily of rare metals, and many types of designs. Their hair and eyes tend toward light on one end of the spectrum, going toward dark at the middle, then bearing a mix of either for the families that fall on the end toward the Indigo and Violet family groupings. They are the most muscular of the Aethir, and otherwise structurally resemble the Terrexine, though of more angular features, slight haughty snarls, and angry visage about the eyes and long brows.

Tidal Aethir, informally Serpental, rarely Abyssal. Among the first of the Ancient Beasts, created by the Primordial Titan who created the Universe, Ti-amtum is the driver of the tides, and often of the earth itself as she follows the paths of the Moon through the sky. The Serpent Kings of the Tidal aethir ruled for a very long time in the past, creating edifices and labyrinths of unknown import throughout prehistory. Their tombs are sometimes discovered with artifacts and machines buried within of unusual properties that are not now replicable. This prehistoric Aetherian Empire benefited from mighty compacts and ancient agreements made with elemental beings, ancient forces of nature, and even some Infernals. A few among them learned many of the properties of Graeshen world-shifting, though the control-gems for such endeavors are rare in Filios or the Spans. 

Tidal aethir enjoy close fitting garments with many gradations of blue or green and metallics. Often particular members will contrast the oceanic or reptile-based tones with that of deep red, white or grey, or a rough-woven brown. They have the longest life span of the aethir, and the oldest noticeably appear in purples so dark as to look black under normal circumstances, set off with bright red accents. Their bodies are long and thin, some to the point of emaciation, their high cheek-bones setting off large unblinking eyes in a variety of solid colors. Most have very pale skin, flat noses, wide mouths, as well as hair in normal dark colors, but many with hair shaded green or blue. Their tendency toward long plans, and a mental endurance that will see them pursue a goal through incredible difficulties, make them incredibly steadfast allies and implacable foes.

 

Horizon Aethir, informally Dusk or Dawn depending on esoteric groupings. Astar/taea is the name that the aethir use when referring to Taf-Seth-Ra who crashed to the World from the Radiant elsewhere, and was nursed to health by the primordial goddess Miara. In doing so, his nature was changed, inner flame harnessed by his own temperance now. He showed the ways to fight against the Titan called Void, not only by strength of arms and will, but by flowing energy into renewal and adaptation, and by looking to the future to always be ready. Astar/taea, the rising sun and setting sun, is the patron of visionaries, dreamers, questing knights, and those embracing change. Unlike the godfire to be swallowed up, or ancient summonings with terrible prices, the aethir have shown that various martial and mental arts can allow the practitioner to accomplish incredible feats of skill and knowledge. 

Dawn aethir often wear loose robes of yellow over light blue or pale purple clothes, while Dusk aethir tend to wear red or magenta robes over orange, pink, or further reds. Sometimes the robes are replaced with long cloaks in the same color scheme. Horizon aethir don't tend toward any specific hair and eye coloration, though their skin tones are often a bit deeper than other aethir, or contain a warm reddish flush. They tend to sleep very little, or all of the time, and their demeanor is rarely frenetic. Almost invariably, members of this division seem to be distracted with thoughts or perceiving things just out of normal range, and their gaze often falls far off to the distance. They are great wanderers, lovers of new things, and seers. Many members of the Glassflare Ordinances, the Aetherian Empire's great martial order, come from the Horizon aethir.

Nine Dreadful Eminences

 

One: The Sphinx

She's called Amsu-ashka. Or rather, the body built for her by Mokbalatar artisans, made of stone and sand and the last limit of sculpting and carving skill, is named this. It's said the body was a vessel to house a sort of cold fire, that holy phenomenon some call Fire Without Change. Not a simple, random stray thought made manifest, but the very tear of one of Them in the throne of heaven who awoke for however short a time and regarded creation and itself. Really, though, all of this is just a rumor: an Angel of extreme potency is stuffed into a great statue, reclining feline, folded wings, and beautiful, serene face. She is curious about things, and so will demand knowledge, and the answers to questions, and sometimes seems unfair requiring responses to puzzles, but she knows many many truths, and if you aren't eaten, and you aren't flensed clean from her pure fire, you will gain your one answer.

 

Three: The Ogre

Up above the heavy clouds that are the garden beds of giants who live upside down in the sky (as weather-watchers, and old weaving-women know), some of the highest peaks clutch crumbling stone piles to themselves, and in one of these he lives. Since it is nearly impossible to learn which one, he sleeps safe. But, with only two of his three eyes ever restful in the embrace of sleep, he sleeps uneasy, aware. If you do find his castle, up above the clouds, he'll rise, and stomp, and dance a heavy beat, and the boulders will rain down. He'll walk across the rubble, then, and out amongst the lands of men. And his name is Thunder and Avalanche and Malevolence. He carries in one hand a glaive called Dawn Above the Spindrift which casts down armies with single sweeps, and his blue face breathes out gales. In his other hand he carries Dusk In the Glade of Blossoms, a great black leaden rod which unerringly slays what single champion might step to battle, and his burning third eye calmly looks into the well of time, and he knows when it is time to leave the lands of man. Then he is warm and hearty, and may assist the broken beggar or weary traveller with fair weather and direction to roads home.

 

Nine: The Stalker

It's a constant trick of perspective. A growing rustling in the eventime trees, whippering the leaves. Huge, large as the sky above the forest, the sweeps of wings or of shouldering tendrils, or a cloak, scattering firefly stars too early in the purple above. But, no! not huge, near, stolen up while you gaped, taking up the same width on the horizon, but only because it's so near. So, when the warm wind that feels like breath is on your cheek (or on your neck, bristling the hairs!) flee fast to your home, to your bed. Because if you don't make it there first, thinking that it's smallness means you've escaped it now, you'll see it's just the right size to fit in the shadows of your door, and you'll run right into it's waiting jaws. But if you are swift and are in bed before it arrives, it will forget that you weren't already there. See it fill up the threshhold. Beware the six? seven? claws, the whipping things on it's shoulders, the bright smiling teeth. Feed it what milk you have. Maybe, for a night, you can sweep along unafraid, into doors and crossing-places, uninvited.

 

Seven: The Hydra

The admixture of elements from vastly different spheres: a vast network of mycellium, an eversprouting night-garden waiting for nutriment; and a porous rock crumbling into the earth, oddly crystalline reverberations echoing a terrible something from its path beyond the sky; and a simple slithering snake caught in the fall. In the warm dark loam, a hungry knot grows. Writhing masses, soft like fungal fruiting bodies, and pale, seek the sky again. If it cannot gain the nebula clouds and stars, it will grow large, screaming a horrible song up! up! And if the things that walk on the surface, that are food for the night-garden, strike a stalk off, why, it will grow a new one. Somewhere. (And a dangerous by-product of its otherworldly heritage mixing with spore-like effluvia is that it so easily distorts the mind and senses, seeming like a nightmare, or forgotten altogether.) It is also delicious in a dark sauce, apparently. And if you ask the right chef or the right midwife, they'll tell you how people have had lost limbs grow back and grave injuries restored.

 

Eight: The Vampire

It's old and hungry and fast and, if you're a scientist who studies such things, elegantly streamlined, and hungry and loves the things that you are that feeds it a little too much. And hungry. It burns so much energy existing at such feverflame intensity. Since it wanders between moments like that, though, it ponders things slowly, savoring a sort of mismatched flow of time like honeyed purrings across its skin, noticing every pore on your thigh, noticing every nuance in the exhalation you produce warm into the night, noticing every heartbeat. It doesn't understand people anymore, not really. It's just a smear across reality for those it wants so badly to savor, to be savored. And then it's still. But, if it's sated, and found, at that moment that it's still, its mismatched time and yours jitter close, and your yearning jutters close, and you can't help but to get near, and ask for that golden moment to go on forever. Ask it. Ask it now for the merest sip of forever.

 

Two: The Black Knight

There's often something guarding The Way. Spaces in between, gates portcullised, river crossings, borders. That's where you may find him. Mors Intepestivus, he is an impassible martial forbiddance. He is a challenge at the threshold that can't be refused, he waits implacable, shrouded in iron and darkness and flame that licks like sunset behind his bascinet, the seams of his vambraces. Boundaries are what he knows because he exists on a boundary. He is unkillable because his will rages hotter than death, but he no longer lives because nothing can thrive in the wasteland between moments. However, it is possible he can be defeated. It is possible that he has some intrinsic weakness, or a key to pass, or a mercy that can be dredged up from some time-forgotten memory. Step to the pas d'armes of the Death Knight, and attempt the token, and take the Olifant Horn to call down his iron fury to you in a time of need, to destroy all who stand in your Way.

 

Five: The Wolf

Howling at the borders of the settled lands, running wild but hungry always hungry; not in the impoverished way of so-called civilized creatures, but the hunger of a smile, the hunger of a welcoming warmth, the hunger of rending, and of breath. He's bigger than you think, and you think he's familiar, and he is, but he's bigger. His breath is the storm. His claws are the shattering hail. His eyes are the lightning. You hide in the basement, in the cellar, only to emerge to the whole land being flattened, only bricks remaining, powdered and exploded right to fundamental dust. In the open, unmatched, a fell wind screaming across the plains, the snow, the fields, even the mightiest fall to the rending, dropping exhausted, torn apart. In the forests, the tight spaces, even the cities, a wrong seeming toothsome smile invites you to be swallowed whole where the only way forward is to become part of the pack, a wolf too, rending your own way out. Then, howling your blood red song you can call down the storm around you, breathe desire.

 

Six: The Devil

There's a handsome figure, you heard he deserted his battalion (they all perished anyways), that you can consistently find at the crossroads out in the empty fields, or by the lone inn, or in the strange town (but only at midnight; some say just on the full moon, others say only once the tavern or bar has made it's last call of the night). He carries: a stringed instrument that makes sounds no one had heard before, a deck of obviously marked cards, a bottle of amber heaven, the smile of your closest friend. Sit a moment, listen to the song, that's alright. Share a sip of sunshine, that's a little more alright. Play the cards, talk about things past and future, and wants and wishes. You know this tune. If you can win (you can't win), if you can outplay him (you don't know the tuning), if you can outdrink him (it turns to fire then madness), if you can just stay up the night, you might get your fondest wish. More likely, though, in a week or a clutch of decades, you'll find yourself at another cross-roads, another place, and hear the growling of something on your trail, coming to take you down down down. But, there's always a chance. There's always this one particular time. There's always the gamble that you might be different from all the rest. 

 

Four: The Insect Queen

In the end she is triumphant. She is in all of her children. They all sing to her, and she to them. They adapt, they proliferate, they thrive, they evolve into the myriad of forms necessary to sit atop the remains of everything at the end of all things. She is horror in the flesh, and locust upon the fields, and fang and mandible warring upon sad, lonely, isolated-thinking meat things, and death. She is all iridescent beauty, and perfect engineering, and grace, and her song leans close to the all encompassing infinity, harmonizing waves floating along a million million children, ecstatic with purpose and love and efficiency. The Queen is reborn with each new environment, each new world to conquer, pulling herself and and her triumph along with her, beautiful and adaptive. She may not be bargained with, and no one can ever seem to quite eradicate her. But she can be allied with for a time, a dangerous diplomacy, if only you open yourself to her song, her implacable, benevolent command. Perhaps disguised as one of hers, or invisible, forgotten monstrosities and omnifactorial invulnerabilities and weapons forgotten in dreams may be grasped from the very materials of her children, and the humming soulsong of the Queen who will walk upon the end of time, triumphant.

The Bright Spans Pt 4: The Rise of the Orchidium and the Era of Wizard Oversight

 Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Farms collapsed, crops perished, communities were erased from both the implacable ice sheets moving south, as well as the howling winds blowing dry sands northward.

The noble houses, without heirs, and without marryable children to reinforce ties to other nobles, went into disarray. The structures of governance were in many cases left to languish, instead funds were often put into the arming of knights and the equipping of expeditions to search out and find the missing princesses and heirs. Or to fortify themselves against the catastrophes of weather and monsters. 

The strongest centralized countries had cities their populations could retreat back to. The northern mountains, especially Lys Yraht shielded the worst of the final march of glaciation, the land rising up to nestle the Valelands and their mighty forests. Zelemja, bordered by the tall peaks of Lys Vyreth, and sitting on a high plateau dotted with it's own forests, absorbed a large population of refugees. However, even these relatively verdant sites became frost-rimed, and difficult to farm. The feeding of the people within the Spans became of paramount importance.  

Near the location thought to be the last place the twin forces of sand and ice would converge upon should the worst occur, a large estate grew. It was comprised of many buildings conjoined as if from a town where there were no streets, but courtyards opening up from only the surrounding buildings, a labyrinthine mansion with a taller tower-like edifice in the center, and glass panes covering gardens protected from the elements spanning rooftop to rooftop. This was the expanding tower-site of the first Gardner, the wizard Yan Afelsam. 

Yan studied plants extensively, and although a Wizard of Greate Power, was also a devout follower of the Goddess Miara, and was known to have divine favor. This rare combination allowed him to explore natural sciences especially in the means in which one may allow life to flourish. Most of which he originally used to grow flowers. However, along the way he learned some rare combinations of the Elemental Languages (that holy types as well as mages' speak), gained many students, grew flowers, and divined the coming of a woman to replace him, who he called the Orchid (he was fond of the flowers anyhow, so most people just figured he was unsure of who exactly this successor was going to be). His Tower, as well as the always growing maze of buildings and greenhouses, he therefore named The Orchidium.

Understanding the necessity, and with magic formed from language that tapped into the generative forces (and a good sprinkling of the knowledge of Shevóram sorcerers he had the foresight to bring into council), Yan was able to grow and cultivate extraordinary amounts of fruits, grains, and vegetables. Swelling the ranks of his Gardeners, they nearly single-handedly fed the Spans during the worst years when the sun barely crept from behind blowing clouds of snow, and the sands buried much of even the once huge Salt Sea, also known as the Zorál, that once extended far to the south. 

With the survival of the peoples of the Spans hinging on the production, and eventually dispersal of the bounty flowing out of the Orchidium, the Gardeners, Yan's council of magic-users, became extremely powerful, both in temporal power, as well as arcane power. More arcane knowledge gravitated toward his demense as students and diplomats were sent from neighboring regions. One, the Nilatese orphan called Uma of Alsates, rose into the ranks of the Gardeners, then into Yan's inner circle. Younger than most of the others within his council, she brought ambition as well as skill and a drive to gather spells from other magic-users. This, then, was Yan's Orchid. 

He retreated to chambers at the top of his inner building, living with Uma, and seeing only his closest friends and highest ranking Gardeners. Eventually he closed the top chambers to all, with the instructions that Uma should inherit the Tower and responsibilities of the Orchidium. 

Now known as The Luminous Petal, Uma of Alsates became the most powerful individual in the Spans. And with the resources at her command, she found that the works of the Rectification were healing over; the wobble was slowly but inevitably returning and the world was shifting. Her astrogeomancers assured her that the ice and sands would soon be retreating. Despite her earlier ambition, she had no wish to become mired in the duties of a despot. She knew that the nobles and governing bodies of the various regions would become a constant headache, an ongoing responsibility when the worst of the emergencies were past. 

So, although the strongest wizards could certainly become absolute rulers, she set down that the major Towers would have oversight in particular areas and activities in the Spans. This would allow the wizards to be able to do what they most wanted to do (gain magic knowledge and power), while still being the wisest people around (as the Archmages all think themselves to be, obviously), and theoretically keep any one Tower from becoming to powerful (like Balthazar and the catastrophe of the Rectification). 

Tower L'Athos would have the region of Pridwia pretty much to itself, Nicodemio and his apprentices free to deal with whatever horrors pressed in from the north. Tower Dharsati would keep an eye to the desert, as well as keep the Iridescian Wakes under observation. The Dharsati family graciously agreed to this, as they were making gold hand over fist siphoning the raw magic and materials to the Merchant Families of Nilato. To the west, the stolid, battleready mages of the Tower Svedra, lead by the enigmatic wizard known by the title Falcon I, keep a weather eye on the unknown quantity of Balefire and it's alien inhabitants, and observe the Tropæan Ocean as the ice breaks up and the sea-lanes become feasable. But they especially watch for the imbalancing that Azageer's ambitions upon Nilato and it's wealth would create should the Imperator crash through to the wealth of the southern lands. And Tower Orchidium remains near the center, close to the Queen's Cross where the major roads meet (and the area that remained untouched by either environmental extreme) settling disputes, and keeping the lines of communication open between the Archmages, and being the last recourse when things get really out of hand by adventurers, meddlers with powerful artifacts, and princesses' curses. 

Hey! My janky map! It has more scribbles on it now!

Next?! Powerful Princesses, Masterful Monasteries, and Ass-kicking Assassins!

 

 

The Bright Spans Pt 3: After Balthazar

 Part 1

 Part 2

 

 

So, the Archmages stopped the wobble of the world, ending seasons (more or less). The elves continued to spirit away princesses, spooky hags cast them into endless sleeps, and dragons indiscriminately ate whomever they were brought or could catch easily. (Dragons are notoriously lazy unless roused from their obssessions by knights or adventurers, halflings or seekers-o-things, after all.) Drastic changes came over the land, both politically and environmentally.

The unforeseen consequence, not planned for in the study-rooms of Wizards contemplating the fate of the peoples, was the land itself changing, and the harshest environments closing in on the relatively temperate region north-midworld in Orbis. 

The south was exposed to the sun now all year, drying out, the soil blowing away as little fresh moisture blew in, with dunes forming and overtaking cities and towns. The desert called the Shevóram, after the tribes who lived there, buried the entire region up to and including most of the Zoràl Sea, now also known as the Salty Sea. The tribes took in everyone they could, absorbing the populace to the south, teaching the myriad peoples how to survive in the dry, sandy regions. The Shevóram consist, even now, of seven loosely organized "tribes" all speaking Shevrám, a conglomeration of the original tribal language as well as many once independent languages from the regions lost to the sands. 

Bordering the creeping sands of the deserts, Nilato with her mazy canals, and a propensity for seeking out solutions (and one-upping each other), secured a deal with an envoy of the strangers who had settled near the Tropæan Ocean. Commonly called the Mok, from the lands they claimed to hail from, they had resemblance to the dangerous elves. These Mok-elves, though, were taller, more alien, and of a more eldritch bent than their apparent relations. They claimed to have knowledge of processes by which machines could be built, towers planted into the ground, to change the environment at the whims of the operators. 

So a tower was built to the south of Nilato, extracting some strange energy for the Mok as their price. But the wonder also caused a cool, moist atmosphere to permeate the area near the City of Mazes. But when the desert surged in a huge sandstorm seemingly out of nowhere, the tower was heavily damaged, and exploded in a fury of raw generative magic. The shockwaves sent a transmutive effect deep into the desert, scattering tiny sand-grains of unmeltable ice to mingle with the desert, making the sands for many hundereds of miles strangely cold even as the air was hot, and the sun burning. Of the site of the Mokbalatar power-rig, only a haze of cracks and rainbow mirage remained, coming to be called the Iridescian Wakes. A place the Nilatese have made great profit from extracting the raw magics, the Wakes have given huge profit margins to the ruling Merchant clans, and power to the Dharsati family of wizards.

The explosion was seen hundreds of miles away.

 

To the north, in a state of perpetual twilight, the cold overtook the land, moisture trapped high above sending snow snow snow, heavy and continuous for many years. Glaciers formed and crept across the wildlands from the constant compacting snow turning to ice. With the glaciers came the terrible denizens of the cold. The Isigi-gan, ice giants, with blocks of iron hard ice to throw into the fragile walls of cities brittle from the freeze. And the worst flurries, storms that were walls of snow and wild air, carried with them the howling song of great white dragons, sounding like the harmonizing of the very winds layered atop one another, until the fatal breath locked the unlucky listener in permanent frost. 

To the Northwest, Azageer mustered the men and materials, tightened strictures of governance under the Imperator, and (with alliances with the strange dwarven Stonemen under Lys Yrvan) held the line, keeping the frozen monsters from storming into the Spans. Most of the Northeast fell to terrible glaciers and was wiped out. But one man, already old, feared and hated for his ruthlessness in accumulating mystical power took to himself the whole region of Pridwia in return for keeping the threats living there at bay. This was Nicodemio L'Athos, now most often referred to as The Old Man, or that Evil Bastard. 

Still, in regions even The Old Man, nor his three powerful apprentices deign to patrol, out on the Pridwian glacier, people tell tales of a land thriving in perpetual spring. It's specific location seems murky, and most who speak about it mumble into their cups a bit of truth: it's not heard of anyone actually returning from there. But there is a consensus among the hardiest rangers, and the few barbarians who still stride the ice out there, that a hardy party could be lead out there. For a price. And no guarantees of safe return. 

Beautiful, until it's implacably flattening your town. Also, monsters surfing that stuff.

 

 

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With ice from the north and sand from the south, the area of habitable, farmable land was getting swiftly swallowed up. But, there were those who had taken the studies of the Archmages to heart, and a few had plans on how to survive the coming apocalypse. 

Next: the Rise of the Orchidium and the Era of Wizard Oversight.