Kevin's Watch

Zephyr wrote:But you know my thoughts.

The AllFather wrote:The hall stood vast and unchanging, as it had been for centuries already. Deep in the heart of the city, unbeknownst to any of the mortals who lived above it, the vast domed chamber was filled with a low humming and a faint crackling. Thick pillars decorated with symbols now forgotten - a silver mace clenched in a fist and dripping blood, a quill of fire, a book encrusted with precious stones, a vampiric face engraved in a circle, a radiant heart, a cracked egg revealing a sinuous shape, a sphere of woven threads, a wicked dagger - supported the darkened dome, and in the whole chamber, there stood only a round table, decorated with the same symbols and many more even more obscure. Nine stood around the table, and the city above them was unaware of their presence. They had come through the usual ways and paths, some bringing good news, some bringing bad ones.

"So it is true," the Grim Lord said somberly. "He has turned."

"Aye," replied the Scrivener, sadly, "'twas not his fault, yet turn he did. I have sensed this, and ye know what this means."

The fleshless skull of the Night Wyrm rose on its sinuous neck. "The lines have been drawn," his hollow voice boomed, "even now the gods take sides. Some have... surprised me."

"Indeed," the Grim Lord agreed, "it remains to be seen whether their pledges of loyalty to one another, and their stated intentions will survive what is coming."

"Nevertheless, we have lost three of our number," the Hand of the Weave interjected quietly, "our power dwindles with each of us leaving, and yet I feel we shall be very much needed in the onslaught unleashed by the gods."

"Yes," the Lily in Winter agreed, "I remember very well what cataclysms accompany the wars of the gods. To most of them, mortals will be merely pawns, if and no one sheds tears when their pawns are taken from the board." She sighed. "Unless of course it means growing weaker oneself."

"There is a solution to the problem we face," the Champion Immortal announced. "Though we have lost some of our number, there are those who - like one uf us - were never granted the powers of a chosen one, yet were nonetheless bestowed great power by either the fickle fates, or the hand of their gods. Many died in the cataclysms of the Second Age, and others were lost during the Interdiction; some yet survive." He paused. "Though those who were dear to me perished in the millennia since."

The Lily in Winter placed her hand on the Champion's shoulder. "I am sorry, Jameak", she said, "We all know how much you loved her. Well all wish she had survived, yet you remember as well as we all do that the time before and after the Interdiction was a time of chaos. Her death saved others, and her sacrifice is remembered."

"It is remembered by us," the Champion Immortal said, sadly, "but I look outside and I see what the gods of today have wrought. The old legends from our Age are no longer heeded; the deaths of those such as Lirania is all but forgotten. And what did she die for? All that we strove to save and help is now crumbling because the gods have returned, and like the spoiled children they are, they have seen it fit to bring another apocalypse on Eiran." He looked at the Lily, eyes glistening with tears. "Tell me again that Lirania's death was not in vain, for I look upon the world today and I cannot help but think that my daughter died for nothing."

To this, the Lily had no answer. Jameak sighed. "What is coming, we cannot foresee and we cannot stop. Despite our best efforts, the gods will undo all that we attempt to do, no matter the sacrifice, no matter the price we pay. Lirania's death was for nothing, and all she did has been undone. Lirania died at the hands of a Herald to save this world, and bid me live for her, for our people - and now the Heralds return, and her death is made in vain too. Adomorn is gone, and what defenses do we have agaisnt the coming darkness? A handful of gods willing to help Eiran do not make up for a majority of gods who are too taken up by their petty squabbles to see what is happening." He shook his head. Of the old gods, who is left who remembers the World Breaker? O-gon-cho, still trapped by her terror? Simjen, unwilling to commit to the battle he already fought once? Moxinomal, who actually called the World Breaker? No," he said, "there is no hope for this world anymore."

"What is happening to you?" The Lady of the Weave asked. "Your strength has been unwavering all these centuries, and you have led us without doubts or fears; why are you so willing to accept defeat now, when our world needs us more than ever?"

Jameak looked at the Lady. "I see around me the same dooms we faced in the last Age, am I am reminded of those we have lost. I am reminded of our failures. My failure." He looked down, sighed, then shook his head. "I have had enough, and have I not sacrificed enough for Eiran? I will not continue to do so when those who should shepherd the world do all in their power to destroy it. I am not a Lord of Eiran - I am merely Jameak, and I am weary." And without listening to protestations, he walked away from the table, head bowed.

Silence hung around the table and the eight remaining participants. It was the Night Wyrm who broke it, fleshless skull rising on his sinuous neck. "This is all for nothing, then. Jameak is not the only one who has seen the gathering storm. Somewhere out there, one of the Oldest Powers is rising again. Argothoth is returning, and his darkness will envelop the world once more. Then we shall merely sit and watch while he and the World Breaker struggle for the honor of being the destroyer of Eiran." His sepulchral voice bore a tone of finality. "Against the likes of my old master and the World Breaker, we can do little. We are fractured, and we have lost our leader. I see no hope for any of us in the coming night."

"What is this you speak of?" The Grim Lord said, amazed. "Are you admitting defeat, too, Rothgarh? We need the power of all of us if we are to have any hope to help the people of Eiran!"

"No," the Night Wyrm disagreed, "I have remained with you all for so long because I believed I was the last one, and because I believed that together, we could help this world. But Jameak is right, the world is now beyond help. And if it is, then I wish to rejoin my kin before the end. They have risen now, returned to the world - whether they heard Argothoth's call or not is immaterial - and they call to me. Had we had any hope of staving off the inevitable... ah, but we do not." The massive skeletal body of the Night Wyrm retreated in the darkness, leaving behind its voice alone. "Do not seek me again."

"Ah," the Scrivener commented, "so the darkness prevails."

"There are some we might call upon," the Lily in Winter said sadly. "I have long since known that a ward of my erstwhile master was awakened seasons ago, and has since cast her lot with him who now claims my old master's dominion."

"No," the Scrivener replied, "She will be of little help. With the others gone, what can the seven of us accomplish?"

"What are you saying, Nalam?"

"I say this: our power is not sufficient to save Eiran. We do not suffice to destroy the World Breaker, prevent Argothoth's return, or nullify any of the disasters which are shattering our world. Better than that each of us goes his or her own way, to do what we can for the descendants of those who empowered us."

"But the Lords..." the Lily in Winter began. Nalam shook his head. "'twas a good concept, yet all things must come to an end. Jameak was our leader; without him, nothing can be done. Rothgarh will not help, and the Book calls for me."

"You cannot believe it is right to give up all we have accomplished!" The Grim Lord exclaimed.

"We give up nothing. But there are duties which we have neglected for far too long. I have remained with you for as long as I could, but now that it is clear there is neither the will nor the power to save Eiran among us, I must return to the Book, for the final pages need to be filled, as my Lady once did. Goodbye, old friends... may you find what you seek in the last moments of the world."



PostPosted: Thu Jun 10, 2010 9:48 am Post subject: Reply with quote Edit/Delete this post Delete this post View IP address of poster
The hall stood vast and unchanging, as it had been for centuries already. Deep in the heart of the city, unbeknownst to any of the mortals who lived above it, the vast domed chamber was filled with a low humming and a faint crackling. Thick pillars decorated with symbols now forgotten - a silver mace clenched in a fist and dripping blood, a quill of fire, a book encrusted with precious stones, a vampiric face engraved in a circle, a radiant heart, a cracked egg revealing a sinuous shape, a sphere of woven threads, a wicked dagger - supported the darkened dome, and in the whole chamber, there stood only a round table, decorated with the same symbols and many more even more obscure. Nine stood around the table, and the city above them was unaware of their presence. They had come through the usual ways and paths, some bringing good news, some bringing bad ones.

"So it is true," the Grim Lord said somberly. "He has turned."

"Aye," replied the Scrivener, sadly, "'twas not his fault, yet turn he did. I have sensed this, and ye know what this means."

The fleshless skull of the Night Wyrm rose on its sinuous neck. "The lines have been drawn," his hollow voice boomed, "even now the gods take sides. Some have... surprised me."

"Indeed," the Grim Lord agreed, "it remains to be seen whether their pledges of loyalty to one another, and their stated intentions will survive what is coming."

"Nevertheless, we have lost three of our number," the Hand of the Weave interjected quietly, "our power dwindles with each of us leaving, and yet I feel we shall be very much needed in the onslaught unleashed by the gods."

"Yes," the Lily in Winter agreed, "I remember very well what cataclysms accompany the wars of the gods. To most of them, mortals will be merely pawns, if and no one sheds tears when their pawns are taken from the board." She sighed. "Unless of course it means growing weaker oneself."

"There is a solution to the problem we face," the Champion Immortal announced. "Though we have lost some of our number, there are those who - like one uf us - were never granted the powers of a chosen one, yet were nonetheless bestowed great power by either the fickle fates, or the hand of their gods. Many died in the cataclysms of the Second Age, and others were lost during the Interdiction; some yet survive." He paused. "Though those who were dear to me perished in the millennia since."

The Lily in Winter placed her hand on the Champion's shoulder. "I am sorry, Jameak", she said, "We all know how much you loved her. Well all wish she had survived, yet you remember as well as we all do that the time before and after the Interdiction was a time of chaos. Her death saved others, and her sacrifice is remembered."

"It is remembered by us," the Champion Immortal said, sadly, "but I look outside and I see what the gods of today have wrought. The old legends from our Age are no longer heeded; the deaths of those such as Lirania is all but forgotten. And what did she die for? All that we strove to save and help is now crumbling because the gods have returned, and like the spoiled children they are, they have seen it fit to bring another apocalypse on Eiran." He looked at the Lily, eyes glistening with tears. "Tell me again that Lirania's death was not in vain, for I look upon the world today and I cannot help but think that my daughter died for nothing."

To this, the Lily had no answer. Jameak sighed. "What is coming, we cannot foresee and we cannot stop. Despite our best efforts, the gods will undo all that we attempt to do, no matter the sacrifice, no matter the price we pay. Lirania's death was for nothing, and all she did has been undone. Lirania died at the hands of a Herald to save this world, and bid me live for her, for our people - and now the Heralds return, and her death is made in vain too. Adomorn is gone, and what defenses do we have agaisnt the coming darkness? A handful of gods willing to help Eiran do not make up for a majority of gods who are too taken up by their petty squabbles to see what is happening." He shook his head. Of the old gods, who is left who remembers the World Breaker? O-gon-cho, still trapped by her terror? Simjen, unwilling to commit to the battle he already fought once? Moxinomal, who actually called the World Breaker? No," he said, "there is no hope for this world anymore."

"What is happening to you?" The Lady of the Weave asked. "Your strength has been unwavering all these centuries, and you have led us without doubts or fears; why are you so willing to accept defeat now, when our world needs us more than ever?"

Jameak looked at the Lady. "I see around me the same dooms we faced in the last Age, am I am reminded of those we have lost. I am reminded of our failures. My failure." He looked down, sighed, then shook his head. "I have had enough, and have I not sacrificed enough for Eiran? I will not continue to do so when those who should shepherd the world do all in their power to destroy it. I am not a Lord of Eiran - I am merely Jameak, and I am weary." And without listening to protestations, he walked away from the table, head bowed.

Silence hung around the table and the eight remaining participants. It was the Night Wyrm who broke it, fleshless skull rising on his sinuous neck. "This is all for nothing, then. Jameak is not the only one who has seen the gathering storm. Somewhere out there, one of the Oldest Powers is rising again. Argothoth is returning, and his darkness will envelop the world once more. Then we shall merely sit and watch while he and the World Breaker struggle for the honor of being the destroyer of Eiran." His sepulchral voice bore a tone of finality. "Against the likes of my old master and the World Breaker, we can do little. We are fractured, and we have lost our leader. I see no hope for any of us in the coming night."

"What is this you speak of?" The Grim Lord said, amazed. "Are you admitting defeat, too, Rothgarh? We need the power of all of us if we are to have any hope to help the people of Eiran!"

"No," the Night Wyrm disagreed, "I have remained with you all for so long because I believed I was the last one, and because I believed that together, we could help this world. But Jameak is right, the world is now beyond help. And if it is, then I wish to rejoin my kin before the end. They have risen now, returned to the world - whether they heard Argothoth's call or not is immaterial - and they call to me. Had we had any hope of staving off the inevitable... ah, but we do not." The massive skeletal body of the Night Wyrm retreated in the darkness, leaving behind its voice alone. "Do not seek me again."

"Ah," the Scrivener commented, "so the darkness prevails."

"There are some we might call upon," the Lily in Winter said sadly. "I have long since known that a ward of my erstwhile master was awakened seasons ago, and has since cast her lot with him who now claims my old master's dominion."

"No," the Scrivener replied, "She will be of little help. With the others gone, what can the seven of us accomplish?"

"What are you saying, Nalam?"

"I say this: our power is not sufficient to save Eiran. We do not suffice to destroy the World Breaker, prevent Argothoth's return, or nullify any of the disasters which are shattering our world. Better than that each of us goes his or her own way, to do what we can for the descendants of those who empowered us."

"But the Lords..." the Lily in Winter began. Nalam shook his head. "'twas a good concept, yet all things must come to an end. Jameak was our leader; without him, nothing can be done. Rothgarh will not help, and the Book calls for me."

"You cannot believe it is right to give up all we have accomplished!" The Grim Lord exclaimed.

"We give up nothing. But there are duties which we have neglected for far too long. I have remained with you for as long as I could, but now that it is clear there is neither the will nor the power to save Eiran among us, I must return to the Book, for the final pages need to be filled, as my Lady once did. Goodbye, old friends... may you find what you seek in the last moments of the world."

The remaining Lords stood as if petrified, watching all they had worked for disappear slowly into the night. They looked at each other, each of them wondering who would say the fateful words next. In the end, the Grim Lord spoke, his eyes fixed on the spot where Jameak had stood.

"There is nothing more to be said," he said somberly. "What else can we add to what Jameak, Rothgarh and Nalam have already mentioned?" He sighed. "In truth I am reminded of my own losses, and I share Jameak's plight." He looked at his remaining companions. "In truth, perhaps we have outlived our usefulness. This, the first great test of our commitment, has showed that we are flawed. That we are not what Eiran needs. The deaths of the Second Age weigh too heavily on our hearts. Jameak's Lirania has been gone for millennia, and yet he still mourns her. I mourn my own daughter. Rothgarh's dark heart revels at the thought of not being alone anymore. Nalam seeks solace in the work his erstwhile goddess performed, hoping to lose himself in it. And the rising of the World Breaker, the return of these powers of the Second Age... we cannot meet them. We carry with us too much death."

"So... is this the end?" Iris asked, incredulously. The Lord-General nodded slowly. "Perhaps it is only right that it ends like this. We were necessary as long as no gods existed, but now what can we do to stop the gods? The AllFather has given them responsibility for this world, and it is theirs to keep or betray. We as Lords cannot do more than what we have done. It is time, I think, to take separate paths. Let each of us do what our hearts tell us to. Let us remember the old dead, the sacrifices which have been for nothing, and choose - each of us - where we stand. Whether we fight, or flee, or wait for the end.

The Lords of Eiran are no more."

Zephyr wrote:What can be made of this? From the very start... Who has turned?? This seems to be the very reason for this meeting. A thing of great importance. Does anyone know who is being discussed??

• the Grim Lord
  the Scrivener ~ Nalam
  the Night Wyrm ~ Rothgarh
  the Hand of the Weave
  the Lily in Winter ~ Allyria
  the Champion Immortal ~ Jameak
  the Walker in Chaos

• the Grim Lord, Lord of the Living and the Just One
  the Scrivener, Lord of the Dwarrows and the Wise One
  the Shadow of Unbeing, Lord of the Dead, the Dark One ~ the Night Wyrm?
  Sparklingeyes, also dubbed Lady of the Fae and the Beautiful One ~ the Hand of the Weave?
  the Lily in Winter, the Kind One
  the Champion Immortal, the White Knight, the Lord of Humans, the Valiant One
  Lord of the Houka and the Unseen One ~ the Walker in Chaos?

• Goldenwing, Lord of the Spirits and the Glorious One
  the Lord of Horrors, also called Lord of Yekiths and the Unfathomable One

• The Lord of Fire

Zephyr wrote:What three Lords of Eiran have been lost? I had no reason to expect to hear any such news, but it is something I'd like to know! Is one of the three the one who turned? Have all three turned? Or is something killing the Lords? They are so powerful I can't imagine what is killing them.

Rothgarh wrote:"No, I have remained with you all for so long because I believed I was the last one, and because I believed that together, we could help this world. But Jameak is right, the world is now beyond help. And if it is, then I wish to rejoin my kin before the end. They have risen now, returned to the world - whether they heard Argothoth's call or not is immaterial - and they call to me. Had we had any hope of staving off the inevitable... ah, but we do not." The massive skeletal body of the Night Wyrm retreated in the darkness, leaving behind its voice alone. "Do not seek me again."

Anaya wrote:I could have told you the source of the ash immunity had you asked.

The Numen wrote:The source of the immunity is less important than how to overcome it.

Break the chains or seal the Book,
Who shall mold the coming night?
A promise made is now fulfill'd,
Released is the darkness bright.

Anaya wrote:Besides, the members of the Eclipse can hardly fault others for being secretive, which may be why they have not joined you in your follish prattling. Or perhaps they are simply more mature than desire and decadence.

Zephyr wrote:Thank you, Anaya! An extraordinary tale! I surely never knew your mother's origin.

Tell me... The Sunset and Sunrise Oracles said this:

Break the chains or seal the Book,
Who shall mold the coming night?
A promise made is now fulfill'd,
Released is the darkness bright.

Do you think it possible that they refer to the book you speak of? I thought maybe it was the Second Age Hedra Iren's Book of Law, but haven't heard that its location is known, and didn't know what "sealing" it could do. Maybe Argothoth's book is more relevant at the moment?