Acropolis II - Origination

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[Syl]
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Acropolis II - Origination

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Everything that ever was existed in the Beginning. The Supreme Forces That Were One Mind realized this would not do, for no thing could tell itself apart from another. No thing could move. No thing could grow. No thing could learn or love or feel satisfaction.

And so the Supreme Forces That Were One Mind gave a portion of their authority to The Autarch. "Autarch," They told him, "To you We give the Power of Approval. To you we give the authority to say what will be, to divide the universe" And the Autarch saw that this was needful.

Seeing that everything did not need to be all at once, the Autarch allowed Time. And when he allowed Time, he saw that he allowed Death to creep in as well. The Autarch vowed he would be more careful.

Seeing that everything did not need to be in the same place, the Autarch allowed Space. With Space, first came Individuality, but so came Loneliness, Misfortune, War, and a whole host of lesser undesirables. And the Autarch wondered how he could have been so careless. At this point, he would have started over, but the Supreme Forces That Were One were content and did not give him this authority.

So from out of all Time and Space, the Autarch carved out a World. So that he could see it, he allowed Sun. And seeing the world, he felt it was flat and hard and lifeless. He allowed the Tree, that stretched forth from the Ground toward Sun. And its stretching brought forth the three planes -- the bough, the trunk, and the roots.

Seeing the World and Tree would make a great home to many things, the Autarch allowed the many things - birds, beasts, insects, flowers, and many others. And as these things spread out from the Tree, the Autarch saw a need to allow mountains and valleys, deserts and oceans. He allowed weather to sustain these things.

The Autarch might have been content to stop there, but he realized that none of the great but intangible things had came to be. Where was Love, where was Wonder, where was Peacefulness? And so the Autarch saw a need for beings to hold these things within themselves. He allowed Mortals, living beings like those that had found their home in the World but that could also appreciate it.

That is when the Autarch truly found Despair. With mortals came a slew of other things -- Greed, Anger, Pettiness, Melancholy... more evils than any man could count. And unlike Wisdom or Humor, the evils were not content to stay within Mortals. First, they invaded the insects, infecting many with insatiable hunger. Then they invaded the worms and leeches. Next they took some of the smaller birds and mammals and even some very few of the larger ones. But when they attempted to take the Tree, the Autarch had had enough.

The spirits of Mortals had proven to be frail, permeable things. The Autarch needed something stronger. And so he allowed Gods, spirits that would inhabit all the natural things he had created on the World and forbid any further purchase of the evils. Every living creature that had not been touched by evil, as well as every creature that was, he gave a chosen protector, so too did he allow one for every natural feature of the World.

And though the Autarch could not undo the evils that had found their way into what had been allowed, he found that he could limit it. The evils were drawn into the depths of the earth among the Roots, though some were crafty or powerful enough to find themselves sanctuaries in the realm of the Trunk.

And so it came to be that these Gods found themselves the center of the Mortals' attention, though Mortals lacked any means to sense them directly. Some very few wise ones were able to intuit the history of the Gods and pass it along to the other mortals, but some very many foolish ones took it upon themselves to worship these Gods. In a way the Autarch had not anticipated, the fortunes of many Gods appeared to rise and fall according to the whims of these mortals and the vagaries of Fate that attended them.

This is a story of these Gods.
Last edited by [Syl] on Fri Mar 09, 2012 12:47 am, edited 1 time in total.
"It is not the literal past that rules us, save, possibly, in a biological sense. It is images of the past. Each new historical era mirrors itself in the picture and active mythology of its past or of a past borrowed from other cultures. It tests its sense of identity, of regress or new achievement against that past.”
-George Steiner
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Aisha
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Post by Aisha »

Col looked out over the Gont as they sat on the ground, waiting to hear his words. He was proud to stand before such people. Proud to help them live in harmony with their world and its gods.

Chief among the gods of the Gont is Shen. Father Mountain. There are many gods throughout the world, and the Gont appreciate and thank them at appropriate times. But Shen is theirs. His spirit nourishes their souls, and his body nourishes their bodies.

Finally, all were present. They greeted each other as they found places to sit. Gradually, they quieted, and turned their eyes to Col.

"These are the words that have been passed down from High Priest to High Priest for centuries. These are the words that are spoken by the High Priest to the Gont, here, in the Kara. The Hand of Shen.

"In the beginning, when the world was young, the People came to the world. Different people went to different places. Some desired the salty wind on their faces, and went to the shores of the sea. Some craved the stark nature of the desert. Some exhulted in running, and went to the plains.

"And some felt the strength, the power, the majesty, the beauty, the poised grandeur of the mountains. They saw the peaks, and longed to see the world from on high.

"Greatest of mountains is Shen, and many came here. They called themselves the Gont: People of the Mountain. Our ancestors. They learned the ways of the mountain. The dangers to be avoided. The work required to live. The plants that could be eaten. The spoor of animals to hunt.

"And Shen filled their lives with fierce joys. The fierce joys that fill our lives still. The exertions that make our blood race through our veins. The views whose beauty can stop a heart. The silence of the forests that allow us to hear our souls. The laughter of our children echoing down from the cliffs and up from the valleys.

"Gradually, we came to be a part of Shen. No longer simply people living on the mountain, but a part of the mountain. As much a part as the cliffs, the trees, the streams and pools, the animals. And when this happened, when our wisdom was great enough, we understood that we had not merely learned to live on a hill of dirt and rock. We learned what was at the heart of the mountain. Shen. We knew that the water is his blood; the wind is his breath; the rocks are his bones; the earth is his flesh.

"Shen provides for us. He watches over us. He takes joy in us. When the War ravaged the world, we survived. And we will survive - we will flourish - on the Holy Mountain, in the hand of Shen, unto the ending of the world."
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Post by Orlando »

…and after a stretch and drink of the cool river water, Kumaso continued his writing, taking his time with his long, careful brush strokes. The night wind whispered through his wooden wind chime mixed with the trickling of the water chime, making the light from his candle gently flicker, taking him back to his introspection and story.

It is Orlando who encompasses all we find honorable. Fierce and steadfastly loyal, the Dog lives in harmony with his pack, ensuring the survival of his family. His life is centered on the pack, accepting without qualm his place and never shirking his duties. He takes nothing for himself without the consent of his elders. He works in perfect symmetry with his family to hunt and he is loyal unto death to his lord. This is how Orlando treats his people. We are his pack and he is our lord, deserving of….

Stifling a yawn, Kumaso put down his brush, stretched and blew out the candle. He walked to his sleeping mat, closed his eyes and let the sounds of crickets and water lull him to sleep.
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Nyx
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Post by Nyx »

Hippolyta held the baby up for the village to see. "It is a girl!" The mother, strained and exhausted nonetheless reached for her daughter with a fierce pride.

Far off tribes tell of the Amazons dashing their boy children against the roots of the Tree, as sacrifice to those evil things found there. But none of those tribes asks who fathers the children, boys or girls. The truth is much simpler; boys are given over to their fathers, in the villages of those other tribes. The Amazon shared the blood of several tribes, and through them they shared the blood of those tribes with each of the other tribes.

Boy children of Amazons often rose to places of prominence in their own tribes, showing the fierceness and steadfastness of their mothers, even though they lacked the full compliment of Amazonian traits.
To seek the breast of darkness and be suckled by the night.
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Ristra
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Post by Ristra »

Legend says The Kochu, fleeing from The Evil, stumbled upon Ristra’s arid plateau by chance. But The Kochu were wanderers, surely they would have known of that place with its spiteful, vengeful god?

Legend says that they ate their fill of Ristra’s fruit because they were starving, knowing not what they were doing. But why would they all have eaten strange berries, not knowing if they were poisonous, especially after they tasted the first one?

Legend tells that Ristra in his wrath came among them “– their tongues burned, their bellies boiled, their eyes stung, their bowels turned to water”. I say Ristra probably just kicked all kinds of crap out of his uninvited guests. Just like he'd done when the Evil had showed up.

The story goes that Ristra came to The Kochu in their dreams that night bringing the night terrors and cold sweats. Yeah, that bit’s probably true. Right bastard he is.

Apparently blah blah blah mutual respect grew blah blah blah and in the end The Kochu became Ristra’s chosen people and he became their god. I reckon they’d just had their arses kicked for the first two times in their history and weren’t thinking straight! Or maybe they were- better to have a meanie like Ristra on your side if you have hordes of Evil to defeat, isn’t it? They probably just sat there and wore him out with their desperation.

Still, they’re a good match aren’t they? The Kochu, punch drunk most of the time but innocent as the day is long. No holding grudges or any of that nonsense. Smack whoever annoys you then cook them dinner and make friends. Ristra shows them a bit of the real world – the nasty petty vengeful side that no-one likes but you’ve got to learn to cope with, to get ahead, you know? And Ristra? Well, with The Kochu wandering here there and everywhere with those fruit, just about the whole world has learnt that you disrespect Ristra at your peril! Go easy on the chilli, friend.
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Serenity
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Post by Serenity »

Annie Soptera waded through the paddies of the alluvial plain on its gentle slope towards the sea. As she waded she was greeted by those working the grains and vegetable fields adjacent to the paddies. Flashes of color flitted and darted across both paddy and field as Serenity’s totem mingled with her children.

Sloshing back to shore, Annie approached her fellow Nymph clan Elders. “The rice harvest has been exceedingly fertile this year, and the paddies well nourished for the next planting. The Spring flooding will enrich both field and paddy with new nutrients. All is well.”

The Elders smiled among themselves. When has such not been so since the War and the Evils taken root below? Serenity reigned upon the plain and tribe, and Tribe Tonbo benefitted from being among her chosen.

Joyful clamoring suddenly was heard as the school aged clan children were released from their daily lessons. Swarming towards the elders, the youngest rushed to Annie as she tried to embrace them all at once. “Madam Annie! Madam Annie! Tell us again of the Chrysalis, please!” “No, no, Madam Annie! Beyond that. Tell us of the Transformation after!”

Annie laughed and hugged those around her ever closer. “You were just released from lessons, and yet you want more? Continue home and do your chores. We will hover together at the evening flame, and stories will be shared then.

“Go on, go on,” said gently as she shooed them all homeward bound.
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Nakoma
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Post by Nakoma »

Cross legged in a pine clearing, high above the camp of his people, see To'mo-a-too'ah, Sky Child, chosen of the Ardanien, trapped in his vision quest.

Days, perhaps weeks, fading into the mist of no-time, the meaningless space between sleep and wakening through which his spirit struggles on its search.

Weak though, lost in truth among the delving roots, the overarching branches of the World, To'mo-a-too'ah staggers on the verge of life or over, no longer knowing his way or his purpose.

Until at last, unlooked for, unexpected, torn from vision quest by a shrill cry of the spiralling hawk, clear-sighted and far-seeing, To'mo-a-too'ah, drained, barely alive, understands that at last his quest has found answer.
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cedar
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Post by cedar »

“Where do the cedars come from?” *clink*
The boy looked at his elder, upside down, from where he lay.
“Mmm?”
“Where are the cedars from?” *clink*
The boy cranked his neck further
to peer better at a man working stone.
His face was wrinkled, deeply pocked, and
crisscrossed with small scars.
Moving his strong hands carefully,
the man set his work on the ground,
brushed obsidian flakes from the leather apron across his lap.

He then flopped back on the grass to peer at the sky with the boy.

“Where do the cedars come from...” the old man murmured.
After a moments considerations, he spoke.

“The story of the People is longer than I can tell you,
in a single afternoon.
But I will tell you the part of the story
concerning the First Tree.”

The boy relaxed,
looking at the light filtered green,
through the boughs far, far above him,
and the green light, filtered
through the cedars just close by.
His grandfather took a deep breathe, and located the memory
of the first time he, too, had been told the story of the First Tree.

“'From out of all Time and Space,” the Grandfather intoned,
the Approver chose to create a World.'”
He nodded his head, as if he agreed with the decision.
“So that it might be seen, he brought forth the Sun.”
The boy stretched his arms in the rays, reaching upwards.
“Seeing this world flat and lifeless,
he then summoned, the First Tree;
that stretched forth from the ground!...”
He paused dramatically here,
“...towards the Sun!”
After a moment of silence, he continued.
“It's great growth created three planes,
The Crown
The Trunk
and, the Roots.”

“Now, it is not in the teaching of all the Peoples,
because the Approver went on the create many wondrous things,
including the other trees in our World,
but I think, and my Grandfather thought,
the Cedars,
were a gift from the First Tree. Were actually a creation
of the First Tree,
and not the Approver,
It is this thought that led our Ancestors,
to gather their People and flee to protections of the Groves.
where we live to this day.”

A small seed floated towards the pair,
Grandfather and Son.
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