The Illearth War - Chapter 20

[Reisheiruhime]

*snarls* Watch it.

[Fist and Faith]

TPTP spoiler:

Spoiler

Well, actually, Foul used the Illearth Stone at the end of TPTP. He was in physical contact with it, until Covenant forced them apart, and put a barrier around it so Foul couldn't even use it mentally.

Hey! Look what shows up throught the spoiler! How cool is that?!

[Earthfriend]

Nice one, F&F - i'd forgoten that scene!

But i think it's still fair to say that anyone except Foul, who probly created the Stone in the first place, couldn't use the Stone without becoming a touch unhinged.

[Fist and Faith]

I agree. That would seem to be the main function of the stone - messing with the targets' heads. Aside from hurling the occasional force bolt, the Stone and its fragments:
-allowed the Ravers to possess the Giants
-allowed Foul to control the three Bloodguard
-made that Vortex of Trepidation thingy
-In TPTP

Spoiler

-made those nasty green veins in the ground that made everyone crazy with fear during the attack on Revelstone
-gave Covenant those visions of him and everyone getting leprosy

Despite did not intend to become trapped within the Arch of Time, and so must have intended that the Stone Corrupt its finder, who would then Corrupt others. But since he was there, he did it himself, using the Stone to Corrupt those who were otherwise uncorruptable. (i.e., Giants and Haruchai.)

[I'm Murrin]

I keep wondering about the size of the fragments that the Giant-ravers held - since it says in LFB that the Stone was small enough for Drool to hold in his fist, the fragments can't have been very big...

[Fist and Faith]

Can you tell me where to find that quote? It's much bigger than that in TPTP. And in TWL, Covenant's guess is that the Stonemight is a flake of one of the Ravers' fragments.

[I'm Murrin]

LFB, Chapter 24, Calling of Lions:

But before they could reach safety, Drool appeared out of the cleft above them. The Cavewight was crawling, too crippled to stand. But in his fist he clutched a green stone which radiated intense wrong through the blackness of the clouds. His scream carried over the roar of the Lions:
'Crush! Crush!'

And in TPTP, Chapter 20, The Unbeliever:

Set into the floor directly before it was the Illearth Stone.
The Stone was not so large as Foamfollower had expected it to be; it did not look so big or heavy that he could not have lifted in in his arms.

No mention of its exact size, but LFB suggests it is no bigger than a Cavewight's over-sized hands, and there is no contradiction to that in TPTP - obviously FF is surprised that it is so small to have so much power.

[Guest]

I always thought of the Illearth Stone as a tool that allows a holder to direcly wield Earthpower (corrupted of course), while at the same time, corrupting the holder by its nature and also by addicting them to that power.

The more lore-wise the holder, the more powerful things the holder of the Stone could perform with it. It appears that the bigger the piece of the Illearth Stone, the more Earthpower could be channeled through it. Also, Satansfist was also able to amplify his stone's power by using some kind of weird demondim lore to create that sceptre thingy for it.

So when the Earthpower itself was corrupted in the form of the Sunbane in TWL, the Stonemight, in the hands of a relatively skilled Gravler, could perform pretty much the same powers as a Sunstone. Except that a Gravler using a Sunstone needed blood to tap into the corrupted Earthpower.

So, the question I still have is there some big-ass piece of orcrest (the One Stone?) that, in the hands of a lore-wise person, could perform all sorts of cool stuff? Maybe that's the power source of the Earthblood?

oookayyyyyy....that's enough for now!

[Fist and Faith]

Set into the floor directly before it was the Illearth Stone.
The Stone was not so large as Foamfollower had expected it to be; it did not look so big or heavy that he could not have lifted in in his arms.

No mention of its exact size, but LFB suggests it is no bigger than a Cavewight's over-sized hands, and there is no contradiction to that in TPTP - obviously FF is surprised that it is so small to have so much power.

Although something that is not too big or heavy for FF to lift can be quite huge to me, that quote does not contradict the LFB quote. However, a few pages later we have this:

Spoiler

In the heart of the whirling gale, the pillar of force, he knelt beside the Stone and put his arem around it like a man embracing immolation. New blood from his poisoned lip ran down his chin, dripped into the green and was vaporized.

With each moment, the conjunction of the two powers produced more and more might. Like a lifeless and indomitable heart of fury, the Illearth Stone pulsed in Covenant's arms, laboring in mindless, automatic reflex to destroy him rather than be destroyed.

That's a pretty good contradiction. Could it be that Foul made at least one fragment as early as LFB? But we need to reconcile that with the fact that the Lords were shocked to learn that he had done so for the Giants-Ravers. Yet they didn't say, "Wait a minute. We saw Drool with it, and now the Giant-Ravers each have one the same size??"

UrVilesilencer, I love the idea of The One Stone!!! I'd prefer it to be separate from the EarthBlood though.

[I'm Murrin]

I disagree with the idea of the Illearth Stone using Earthpower - It is claimed that the power comes from within the Stone itself, and being as it is a power of intense ill I doubt that Earthpower could be warped to that extent.

F&F - I am starting to understand more on this, and I can't see a contradiction - Cavewights' hands are said to be like shovels, and I am starting to imagine that a Stone that was only just small enough for Drool to grasp would still be so large that Covenant would have to wrap his whole arm around it, and that FF would need both hands it he were to lift it - I can easily imaging a Cavewight's hands being larger than those of a Giant.

[Earthfriend]

One could view the Stone as a living, pulsing, thing, capable of adjusting it's size to better enable Corruption, much like Tolkien's One Ring...

[Fist and Faith]

Excellent points by both Murrin and Earthfriend! I can see both being true.

[duchess of malfi]

Back to Lord Callindrill -- the Vortex of Trepidation appears to have fatally broken his confidence in himself. He was a very strong individual -- Mhoram thinks so -- and he managed to hold off Foul's Army (along with Verement) until the Warward could get to Doom's Retreat. Perhaps he had never had to deal with fear and the resulting weakness before, and it was just too much for him to emotionally handle. He is obviously never the same after he faced the Vortex...

[Cord Hurn]

A journey through a forest of wonderful and fearsome power like no other of which I've ever read...

With Callindrill, Troy, Quaan, Amorine, twoscore Bloodguard, all the Ranyhyn, and more than four thousand warriors, Lord Mhoram passed fore a time out of the world of humankind.

Slowly, the music transformed his conscious alertness, drew him into a kind of trance. He felt that he was still aware of everything, in the altered dimness of the Deep, but he felt no passage of time. In openings between the trees, he could see the Westron Mountains. By the changing positions of the peaks, he could gauge his speed. He appeared to be moving faster than a galloping Ranyhyn. But he felt no exertion or strain of travel. The breath of the song wafted him ahead, as if he and his companions were being inhaled by the Deep. It was a weird, dreamy passage, a soul journey, full of speed he could not experience and events he could not feel.

Night came--the moon was completely dark--but he did not lose sight of his way. Some hint of light in the grass and leaves and song made his path clear to him, and he went on confidently, untouched by any need for rest. The Forestal's song released him from mortality, wrapped him in careless peace.

Sometime during the darkness, he heard the change of the song. The alteration had no effect on him, but he understood its meaning. Though the Forest swallowed every other sound, so that no howls or screams or cries reached his ears, he knew that Fleshharrower's army was being destroyed. The song described ages of waiting hate, of grief over vast tracts of kindred lost, ages of slow rage which climbed through the sap of the woods until every limb and leaf shared it, lived it, ached to act. And through that melodic narration came whispers of death as roots and boughs and trunks moved together to crush and rend.

Against the immense Deep, even Fleshharrower's army was small and defenseless-a poaltry insult hurled against an ocean. The trees brushed aside the power of the ur-viles and the strength of the Cavewights and the mad, cornered, desperate fear of all the other creatures. Led by Caerroil Wildwood's song, they simply throttled the invaders. Flames were stamped out, blade wielders were slain, lore and force were overwhelmed. Then the trees drank the blood and ate the bodies--eradicated every trace of the enemy in an apotheosis of ancient and exquisite fury.

When the song resumed its former placid wafting, it seemed to breathe grim satisfaction and victory.

Soon after that--Mhoram thought it was soon--a rumble like thunder passed over the woods. At first, he thought that he was hearing Fleshharrower's death struggle. But then he saw that the sound had an entirely different source. Far ahead and to the west, some terrible violence occurred in the mountains. Red fires spouted from one part of the range. After every eruption, a concussion rolled over the Deep, and a coruscating exhaust paled the night sky. But Mhoram was immune to it. He watched it with interest, but the song wrapped him in its enchantments and preserved him from all care.

And he felt no concern when he realized that the Warward was no longer behind him. Except for Lord Callindrill, Troy, Amorine, Hiltmark Quaan, and two Bloodguard, Terrel and Morril, he was alone. But he was not anxious; the song assuaged him with peace and trust. It led him onward and still onward through a measureless night into the dawn of a new day.

With the return of light, he found that he was moving through a woodland profuse with purple and white orchids. Their soft, pure colors fell in with the music as if they were the notes Caerroil Wildwood sang. They enfolded Mhoram closely in the consolation of the melody. With a wide, unconscious smile, he let himself go as if the current which carried him were an anodyne for all his hurts.

His strange speed was more apparent now. Already through gaps in the overhanging foliage, he could see the paired spires of Melenkurion Skyweir, the tallest peaks in the Westron Mountains. He could see the high, sheer plateau of Rivenrock as the struggle it concealed continued. Eruptions and muffled booms came echoing from the depths of the mountain, and red bursts of force struck the sky at irregular intervals. But still he was untouched. His speed, his exhilarating, easy swiftness, filled his heart with gay glee. He had covered thirty or forty leagues since entering the Deep. He felt ready to walk that way forever.

But the day passed with the same timeless evanescence that had borne him through the night. Soon the sun was close to setting, yet he had no sense of duration, no weary or hungry physical impression that he had traveled all day.

This is one of the most awe-inspiring passages in the Chronicles so far. Mhoram looks like an unstoppable force and Troy looks like a strategic genius for pulling off this gambit.