Some Snippets from The World: Yeola-Camay

Discussions about constructed worlds, cultures and any topics related to constructed societies.
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Re: Some Snippets from The World

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WeepingElf wrote:
19 Jan 2019 01:22
Yes, I mean the different colour schemes. The differences are not great, but noticeable.
Hopefully not too detrimental!

Mostly, I just wanted to depict them as being somewhat visually different from each other.

Not sure how visible this aspect is, but for the underlying earth tones of Camay (on the right) I used a slightly darker pigment for the base layer and some different greens for the vegetation.

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Re: Some Snippets from The World

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A Talarian Votive Shrine

Ma, Ma, Ma, Peluça Mâtar Talanuça,
tacam-com-he cam tânasyom:
mûmcetenomt tâhomt hacrâms-ca-he;
aretuça canapan-cat mâsanuça ffrûcar-ca;
paletuça marxar ffarsanâm-ca-he;
harcuça marxar heytanâm-ca-he;
alam-pe mâmarxar talanuça


Mother, Mother, Mother, Great Mother of Earth,
with thee let me exchange this:
flourishing and abundant fields;
tall hay, boutiful produce;
wide harvests of barley;
white harvests of wheat;
and all crops of Earth.
Last edited by elemtilas on 20 Jan 2020 22:34, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: Some Snippets from The World

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The Luciferescent Orb
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The luciferescent orb is a thaumological device that makes use of a diminutive homunculus motivator to create radiant light. Invented first in remotely ancient times by Daine folk of the Uttermost West, many ages have passed in this world since the eyes of mortals have gazed upon the wondrous lights of the ancient realms of Mes and Dars. Only the Remen pharaohs and magi of Kemeteia-Misser have seen such wonders close by, for the seven lightning globes of Constaninople are said to be the fabled lights of ancient Daine craft. In the Westmarche, the ancient devices have been seen lighting up fair grounds, homes and the like in recent years, and so it would seem that they have been able to fashion the devices again.


The modulation of yeng and yung forces through the widdershins and againwiddershins spin of two wheels driven by tiny homunculus motivators induces djûs (Daine for "power", esp. magical or spiritual) to flow, confined within copper or bronze rods and wires. This force is useful, when well modulated, for many curious and practical applications such as the present device.


In form, the device is a glass globe resting upon a wooden box, the latter having a kind of knob that pushes in and may be pulled out again. And it is the regulation of this knob that ignites the fires of djûs, dims or brightens the light or extinguishes it entirely.


Within the case are two homunculus motivators, two wheels and some lengths of copper or bronze wires, rods and screws to hold the thing together. The central rod, attached to one wheel, rotates within a coil of copper wire, attached to the other wheel though itself not rotating; the spin creates djûs which flows through the coil and spinning rod which excites the aether inside the glass orb which then glows with a kind of diffuse, softish light that emanates from a kind of fog which comes to be generated by the yeng-yung energies. The orb itself is cool to the touch when lit, unlike an oil lantern, and when touched, curious flashes of lightning seem to strike out from the fog. But they are harmless and don't pass through the glass.


Illuminative power is limited only by the size and capacity of the homunculus motivators that turn the wheels. The force of power the Daine call djûs seems to be related in some way to the Spirits of Elektra City that Canem Alderwald wrote of in his treatise On Energetic Powers and Forces (see also Crystal Motivator). The Spirits of Elektra City seem to be distilled via a complex alchemy of acids and metals and everything seems to depend upon the flowering of bat trees; while in the present device, djûs is much more easily distilled from the very airs around the mechanism itself.


Archmage Theowald of Whimhurstead (Univ. of Codeis) is a strong proponent of studying the Spirits of Elektra City as a power source to counteract what some would call the "alarming craftiness of the Daine of Westmarche", what with their flying machines and mechanical horses.

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Re: Some Snippets from The World

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The Seven Wands of Weem

Said to be the work of seven gods, the wands were wrought in the far land of Weem by the shores of the Ocean of Congealed Waters.

Long lost to the ken of The Wise, many have sought them and few have come back again after failing their quest. Some deep lore is kept by the Masters, but most of what is widely known are the many tales and redactions of lore.


Ancient Lore wrote:
Seven wizards wield as one
seven wands surpassed by none
seven glamours mighty grow
seven godlings craft who know

One may find them one may rule
where to seek them bouve or thulle
all or none may they be bound
one by one mon they be found

When she comes and when she drives
round the mountain round the clives
white her raiment red her cheek
none now wield what she does seek

Seven wizards slain by one
seven wands now lorn and gone
seven towers stand on guard
seven powers her reward

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Re: Some Snippets from The World

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Runes of Sorrow

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A Mother wrote:
enseret ung camastum ana surruhwungm
enseret ung qemed iren nerwuri
enseret ana tenumri erung surrustum



tears flow down along my face
years flow down from the sun
my grief flows into rivers

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Re: Some Snippets from The World

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A Slave's Recollection

How do people think of slavery!? Hah! What a question!

Well, mister, I can tell you right now I don't regard slavery in this world very highly at all, and I am unanimous in that! And it's so unfair! I mean look: my pal and me were hauled up before the judges for the same crime: petty theft they called it. Old bat only had four dalers in that fancy purse of hers. Ought to have been more, but anyway, she gets sentenced to a turn of debt slavery to pay back the four dalers plus fees to the Court.

Debt slavery is so cush, man, and that's a fact, let me tell you! I did a stint a few yeas back. Sure they put this fused bronze collar on your neck, and sure it's got a tag with your name and crime and owner on it, but they let you keep your own property and they give you a new sarong & sandals, a cot in the dorm, two whole meals a day -- and good food at that! -- and you get to talk while you're paying back your debt doing some mindless work. City workhouses are kind of mucky, but the Imperial houses are well kept.

So long as you follow their rules, you can work off your debt in a comfortable place. Beats sleeping under a loading dock, or trying to keep the private slavers off your back. Almost like a holiday for girls like us. And what's more, there are ways an enterprising and intelligent girl like me can come out on top with a tidy purse full of coin! They don't lock you in, but they somehow keep track of where you are and how much time you've put in towards your debt. My "friend" will probably be out in a couple months tops if she's smart at it. Heh! Her, maybe give her six months!

But nooo! I was the "master mind" the witless Adversary said. Like it takes a criminal genius to cosh some old hag and nick her cash! Anyway, how was I supposed to know the old witch was a fuckin Member of fuckin Parliament! And the wickedest old prick slicer that ever warmed the Red benches! No! She had to go and make me into an object lesson for all the young women of the Empire.

They took everything I had on me, ripped the rings out of my ears, stripped me naked -- oh, that didn't bother me, but I did love that sarong! My little sister made it for me... They clipped my wings, the tips of my ears, shaved my head and sent me into four years of dirty jobs. There's no new clothes or a cot; no light and airy workhouse; no freedom. The heavy brass collar makes it hard for me to turn my head, and it's thaumically fused. I could feel the power of the magic, and there's no way it'll come off until my time is up. Or unless I die first. They won't waste the brass in it by burying me with it. They'll just chop off my head and throw the bits to the pigs and melt down the collar for some other Imperial slave.

My first year, speaking of pigs, was shit raking in the Great Fraontham Slaughterhouse. Cows, pigs, oliphants, sheep, deer. You name it, if it's four, or sometimes six hooves and has got meat, the butchers'll whack, hack & pack. And what you get in the slaughterhouse besides meat is shit. Pig shit, oliphant shit, cow shit, horse shit. And me and a couple other slaves to push it, scoop it, load it in the carts and try not to slip and fall in the stuff more than twenty or forty times a day! Oh, I hated that place! The smell of blood and fresh meat in my nose was pure bliss! They fed us all a bowl of rice and beans in the morning and a biscuit after shift. I kept telling them I need to eat MEAT! I got so weak I thought I was going to die. Mostly the butchers ignored the slaves, especially us Daine. One kindly soul must have thought I was a pitiable wreck. Every now and again as I was sweeping the cuttings floor, he would make a flourish with his knife. A neat little slice of meat would fly through the air and land in the feathers of my wing! I gobbled it like a savage Herrwen, but I didn't care for that or that it was raw. All I knew was that he could land himself in trouble for feeding a slave; but he didn't seem to care. He never looked at me, never spoke to me, and I didn't pass by him too often. If I survive the ordeal, I'll find him and bow before him who saved me!

My second year, speaking of shit, was spent working for Dantham's Dunnies. They're the ones as have the contract mucking out all the public latrines. Uck. How primitive! Sewers and water taps are not difficult concepts to grasp! And yet the City insist on time honoured tradition! And that means dirty work for us slaves, hauling buckets of piss to the tanker cart and other buckets of shit to the nightsoil cart. But at least Dantham's gave us meat once a week and let me bathe every afternoon. But they kept us in close quarters, in the stables with their oxen and horses. Sometimes at night, some of the crew would come down to the stables and do things to us slaves. I never thought a girl would do those kinds of things to another girl. There was nothing to do but suffer and bear it with such grace as I had in me. Pleading only got rougher treatment; screaming for help only got a sever beating. Patience seems to have been the best weapon, in the end. Most of the crew's women gave up on me. Only one kept at me, trying to get more than a peep out of me.

My third year, thankfully, is now up! As you can see, I've been in the mines up in Carrowdale. Dwarrows are bastards and buggers of the first rate. They've no regard for Dainekind at all, and only tolerate Men because because of trade. Working in the mines at least is a clean kind of dirty if you take my meaning. Minelords usually don't go in for Daine girls, happily. But at least even the slaves eat well! As far as I can tell, we didn't eat anything different than our masters, and often as not, they worked along side us. Kind of odd. I really felt out of place. They never said it directly, but I got the sense they only tolerated us slaves there when either there weren't enough Dwarrows to do the work or else because the lord had signed a Contract requiring our labour. They couldn't let us not work, because that would be dishonourable and they couldn't let us work harder than them because that would injure their pride.

Though the work was hard, they at least respected me. They taught me much about stone and metal and wood. Ways of looking at materials I'd never thought of. I always thought only Daine could love the natural world so deeply, but it may be we have competition from the Dwarrows, at least when it comes to those three! They don't care for bird or beast, garden or forest unless it can provide something of worth.

And now I am in dread of the fourth year of my servitude! Before leaving Carrowdale, they scrubbed me every inch, combed out my tangled hair and trimmed my wing feathers. I guess they think I might try and fly away or something! They took off the brass collar and replaced it with a delicate silver bangle. Normally I'd love to wear a silver neck ring! But this I know is just another kind of slave collar. They said I'm due for a year in the House of Hamidge -- the same old bat I'd nicked four dalers from these three years ago! If the rumours are only half true, I think I'll be truly lucky to survive much more than a month there... I’m pretty sure she'll make me one of her Painted Girls, dolled up and perfumed and oiled and rented out to her friends, associates and government sycophants alike. What they'll do to me, what they do it with and how long they'll toy with me, I don't even want to think about.

And I shudder most knowing that high Dame Hamidge, MP herself will watch her friends inflect their torture on me. And she'll smile her wicked, parsimonious smile, eager to shove every penny worth of retribution into me. For the good of all the young women of the Empire.

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Re: Some Snippets from The World

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A Day in the Life

The fortress at Culmertu stood before me, looming in the thick fog. I liked the fog. It hid me pretty well from the folks living there. I had already managed to get through the wood and wicker gate, and was just about to continue on with my mission when I heard voices from beyond the gate. Others were headed my way! I hid myself as best I could in some recess while they passed.


Tall and dark brown haired they were, and their feathers were brown and black. Quite different from my own red hair and feathers. They wore raccas of many colors which were fur trimmed and each had gaily clanking arm rings, neck rings, ankle rings, colored beads and trinkets of bone round their necks. On each of their heads was a kind of woven band with long feathers attached to it. War chiefs, each one of them; but not the one I was to look for.


The one I was sent to kill, Esanaya, would be wearing a head dress of all red feathers — feathers taken from warriors of my kindred! He would be waiting in a chamber for these new comers, so I quietly followed, as silent as a stalking wildcat and twice as cunning to be sure! In order to keep silent, I wore no trinkets and no racca and my hair was bound up tight with a narrow woven ribbon, a parting gift from one I could only dream of meeting again. I could afford to make no noise this day! I only carried a single spear with a very narrow and jagged bronze head. Sure to kill, and I was skilled enough to send it towards my prey and let it do its job. I would have only one chance to defeat this powerful enemy of my folk!


Up the stairs to a dark corridor I followed the invited guests. They never suspected that one more uninvited would be attending their meeting! At last they came to a doorway from which a low wavering glow emanated. Undoubtedly a single fire was burning in the central hearth.


I waited a few moments before peeking around the openeing to the hall. It was not large, and my prey was standing before the fire, speaking to his chiefs about plans to attack and kill my folk. I didn’t pay much attention to his talk. We are a warlike folk, we Alghadaine, and have long been at odds with the dark haired Troaghladaine. Their plans were well enough known; but my interest was in the boy speaking and I gauged how far he would be from me and how many others would be nearby or in the way. I had but one chance to rob them of their Esanaya, their great champion, the one who most wanted to eradicate my kin.


He would soon begin to harangue them into a frenzy, and I knew I’d better get this done sooner, when they would be more shocked and less inflamed. I took a last look back down the corridor towards the stair and my way out; then leapt up and careened around the corner and into the hall.


I took a deep breath and called out his name: “Esanaya! I am Berasean! I claim your life for the lives of my brothers!” Before any of them could move, I had already sent my spear, smooth hafted and straight, flying towards my prey’s chest. I turned away as I heard the sharp bronze pierce his skin, tear through muscle and sinew, flay his beating heart. His blood ran from the deep wound; I heard him moan, heard as his collapsing body fell to the stone paved floor. I was nearly to the door when the first of the other warriors there cried out and I was pounding down the corridor when the alarm was raised.


My own heart was thumping as I raced down the stair and towards the door that led towards escape. I did not even think about whether I would escape and live, or die here in Culmertu. I did not care. I had done my duty; Berasean had dealt a great blow against our enemies, one they would not forget soon and one that would weaken and undo their alliances against us.


In a moment, I was out the door and racing across the stone landing, heading towards the short stair that went down to the gate passage. Warriors chased me close behind, and I could hear others shouting in the thick fog beyond. Perhaps they won’t be able to see me?


I heard it then. Surely the same sound Esanaya heard a short while ago: the sound of a spear in flight. I couldn’t help but turn towards the sound as I ran — and there it was, flying out of the fog! It’s long bronze point graceful in its descending arc. The warriors behind me saw it as well. They knew what I knew, in that moment: the chase was done. I spread my wings and arms wide, took a deep breath and stared my pursuers in their wide blue eyes with my defiant green ones. I couldn’t help but say to myself, Berasean, the hunter has become the prey!


The feeling of a long and cold bronze blade parting my ribs, tearing through my flesh — those things I had never felt before, and I knew then what pain my own prey had felt. The force of the heavy spear sent me sprawling backwards into the wall. I felt my shoulder blades and arms smack into the wood of it, then my head.


I came to my senses reeling with the pain, but I realized that I hadn’t fallen. The great spear head buried itself in the wall and fixed my to it. It was a powerful cast, but it missed my heart. My breath was ragged and I coughed a lot of blood, the red of it mingling with the red of my long hair.


I lifted my head, my eyes still defiant. Warriors were ranged around me in an arc. They must have been afraid I’d rip the spear from the wall and kill them all! I tried to laugh at the thought, but only managed a weak cough. No, I would kill no more. And they were content to stand by and watch me as I took my last weakening breaths.


I was the wounded stag and they were the hunters. They would wait until I stopped breathing, until I stopped bleeding. I found it hard to keep my eyes open. I felt sleepy. My legs and wings and arms began to tingle. My heart was weakening, my breath now shallow. I couldn’t even cough out the blood pooling in my lungs.


I tilted my head back against the wall. My arms hung useless at my sides; my wings lay along the cold stones of the landing. I breathed once, then paused. Another shallow breath. My spirit knew the next breath would be the last. I smiled at them watching me die. Their faces told me they knew I would die undefeated. Ay, defiant to the last, is Beresean!


I took that last breath, a slight smile playing about my cold lips, my defiant green eyes staring at my enemies.

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Re: Some Snippets from The World

Post by eldin raigmore »

I especially like this latest story and the one before.
And I like all the calligraphy and art on this thread.

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Re: Some Snippets from The World

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A Daine Winter Song

cold rain bathes my limbs
wet snow drapes my feet
bitter wind drives from Unnamed North
gales blow from once Blessed East
I shed my gay raiment : stand naked under sapphire sky

my Golden Lady retreats
her armies in rout
my White Queen rules now harsh
her reign both long and dark
she cruel Death awaits : stalks fearful prey under sky of blue

stars turn above wheel overhead
ruthless wheel of fire cold
red Chasm rises and falls
brings to hill and rill no warm
I bide nor going nor leaving : rest long sought under sky of glas

quiet the snow fields, ancient tombs
silent the ice lakes, dead marshes
breath is quelled and hearts are frorn
dreams of ettens rime gone forn
I sleep deep I dream : til awoke under azure sky

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Re: Some Snippets from The World

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From the Chronicles of Wacy Wanglespoon


Wacy strode out onto the dry rotted stage of the derelict theatre where, if she weren't careful, she really would break a leg. And with her luck, it would probably break right off. She was proud of the fact that she could stride at all, all things considered. As she looked out over the unmoving crowd arrayed upon the stone benches amid the debris of the fallen ceiling. Most of those poor buggers could probably just about manage a lurch, let alone a proper stride.

The whole theatre was dead. The atmosphere was entirely lifeless. No one shuffled in their seats or tried to stifle a cough or rummaged through their pockets for a sweet. Wacy paused, waiting for just the right moment to begin and she looked proudly out over the crowd. Proud for herself that so many came to hear her speak, but even prouder of those who chose not to just lie around for the rest of eternity doing nothing. Something had to be done about the situation so many folks found themselves in, and Wacy Wanglespoon decided long ago that she would be among the doers. So once a month she stood pale and naked before a throng, the very handmaid of Thanatos herself, draped only in a sash of the sheerest red silk.

Wacy lifted her remaining arm and began her oration.

And the crowd listened.

"Rise up my Friends! The time is come for us to declare ourselves in the courts and parliaments of the Living! Too long have we allowed ourselves to be kept shut away in sepulchers or buried in barrows or crammed in coffins. Did you, o venerable soldiers & men of the guard not give your lives for the security of our Empire? Did you, wise doctors not teach your wisdom and pass on your knowledge? O labourers and craftsmen of old, did you not build up the very foundations of City and Temple alike, of Court and Palace, and yea, even the row houses of the humble?"

Wacy was in her element tonight and she knew that the dry leathery eyes of every Deadfella in the place stared right at her; every desiccated ear focused on her words: "Was it our fault that we passed over, yet didn't actually remain dead? Who among the living thinks twice when they say they did not choose to be born among this or that caste? or some family or other? or in such city or earldom? Well, who among us chose to be born into our new wanlives? Nay, my differently alive sisters & brothers, my friends, the fault of our existence does not lie with us! But rather with those among the living who, through cunning works of the deepest dwimmery have chosen to enslave us, to bind us with wanfrangible oaths, to wake us from our long repose and not lest us rest! I say unto you all: we are awake, and let us arise and take our rightful place within the civic life of our Empire!"

Every post mortem brain's dead chemicals sloshed about, the disembodied consciousness of every zombie, every liche, every mannequin girl, every necro-slave, every manservant bound to his lord unto death, focused with a keenness impossible among those who differed from the Unalive by a precious few heartbeats.

"People just don't care anymore, about their ancestors. Of course, every house in the Empire, whether Pagan or Kristian or Yehudian has its niche for the veneration of the House's ancestors. And while veneration is all well and good -- in theory!, my friends, in theory; yet in practice, I ask you: is it not largely the case that once you had shucked your mortal coil and the ink on your lastest will was yet damp, veneration meant that your folks actually ignored you entirely? And yet, here you are, you have lurched and scrabbled and crawled hither from a hundred foreign battlefields or the medical colleges of the learned physicks or the gilded manses of the wealthy and morally corrupt! Nay, it is not you who are evil! It is not you who are monsters! It is not you who are decayed! Nay. It is them, the wealthy earls and gravios who enquicken the recently passed over bodies of shapely young waifs to sate their plutonian passions -- they are the corrupt! It is them, the warwolfish march earls who steal the harvest of the very Walacuzios to swell the ranks of their hordes -- they are the monsters!"

Wacy fell silent at last. She knew this crowd was hers: she had won over their battered, stabbed, dissected and blooddrained hearts. They did not cheer. They did not stamp their feet. Of course, some had no feet to stamp and rather more had no tongues or mouths to cheer in any event. What they did was this: as one, silently and without either external command or signal, shuffled and wobbled their way through the ruined theatre. Up towards the dais they came, slowly but with purpose. A leather bound ledger lay upon a rickety old table. Neither stylus nor ink was to be seen, yet each one waited patiently to make his mark. Through some kind of unkenned thaumery, weird runes and strange sigils of long dead languages appeared in brilliant reds and deepest jet upon the waiting pages. For such were the new recruits inducted into the Society for the Advancement of the Differently Alive.

And they were ready to break out of their tombs and storm the society of the living that had thrown them away like so much rubbish!

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Re: Some Snippets from The World

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Dragonhome


I am Heaventhunder, a Ruby Dragon and I have an infestation problem in my corner of the world. Currently, I am the single one of my kind in the region and all of my life I have enjoyed an indolent & carefree lifestyle: hunt when I am hungry, sleep when I am sleepy, and ponder on the meaning of life when I've got nothing else to do.

I don't remember when the humans first appeared in the land, but they've been around for some time now, in one form or another. I had tried to keep the count of passing seasons at some point but lost interest after several thousand cycles. However a couple centuries ago I stumbled upon an amalgamation of humans they'd called a "Kingdom". There I found an interesting contraption — some kind of engine, a torsion powered spear thrower — that I suppose was designed with a sole purpose of bringing me down from the sky. Naturally, as I’m sure you would concur, I found this engine to be a most disagreeable thing within my realm.

Needless to stay it utterly failed. In a fit of rage, I burned down all the humans and their dwellings in sight for their insolence. But thereafter I noticed quite the disturbing pattern: from the earliest memories I have of these creatures, I can recollect them as hairy as your average wolf and throwing stones at other animals. Then they began throwing sharpened sticks in stead and then using some sort of yew wood devices to launch those sharpened sticks. Of course, it all mattered little to me at the time, armoured and puissant as I am! Yet, anymore I have come to be vesed by the problem. There is, I’m sure you’ll have noticed, a trend in these animals’ behaviour: they progress after an odd kind of fashion, and their ability to kill other animals improves over time.

Yet still the Question of the humans did not oppress me so. Back then I thought that I could easily solve the issue by exterminating them. Burn them and their little world utterly. I had already once burnt every one of the humans in all of their little "Kingdom"; and thereafter I continued doing so throughout all the rest of the lands beyond and even to the verges of the Sea. Then I determined to redouble my efforts and, flying over the Great Sea I found much to my dismay even more of these pesky humans and their colonial infestations. Even then I wondered how they've managed to get there, as it takes a week of continuous flight even for me! Needless to say, I burned them down as well.

Satisfied that the Question was now solved, I determined to take my leisure and for a time went about exploring this land. I hadn't travelled this way in a myraide or more. I discovered that a number of the most delicious prey animals that I enjoyed of old were now gone from the land without trace. I am certain that I now know whom to blame. Cross, I determined to review the other lands I had known in my youth long ago. I found humans in every single land I visited! This vexed me no end. But it was not until I realised that, even worse, I had seen no other Dragons that a great sense of, dare I say it?, fear and dread came over me. I determined then and there to wipe them all out.

Then at last, coming to the End of the Land, across the Sea from my own home, I rested for a time, satisfied that my long sojourn round the circles of the world was well and truly done. I could now fly home, secure in the knowledge that the infestation was now eradicated. And winging low over the barren rocky coasts of home, what should I find in my own land to welcome me? I returned only to discover that the "Kingdom" I had burnt out all those centuries before had sprung up and grown like a blight over even more land than ever before! Everywhere I flew, I found humans and their little dwellings! Naturally, the only course of action available to me was to begin the whole business over again. I burned the lot down. I scoured the lands all over again and found ever more humans...

Oh, I spent the next quarter millennium campaigning all over the world several times over. Yet, each time I leave one of their places no more than a patch of scorched earth, it seems to sprout infestation anew with humans in a matter of decades. They survive in small bunches and then multiply like crazy. At this point, and it tries me to admit this, but I don't even know if it is worth the effort at this point to keep the battle going. I am but a solitary Dragon, for in all my travels, I have met no ally in this fight. Long gone are the days when I basked in the sun leisurely without worrying what region should I cleanse the next moon. For now, the humans have taken to hunting me! The cheek and the presumption is simply to much to bear!

I must admit that these creatures seem to be only slightly inferior in terms intelligence when compared with myself.. After all, they are the only other creature in this world capable of harnessing fire. I also have to admit that I should have embarked on a more thorough extermination programme when they only inhabited a single land far away.

Therefore now I come before the Eyestone asking of any Dragon kin beyond the circles of the world: How can I keep these hairless apes, these animals, at bay and prevent them from inventing ever newer ways to kill, and in specific, me. Culling seems to do the job, but it is very tedious and time-consuming labour. And the result has historically been nothing more than a clearance of space for ever more of the creatures to move in. Is there no way to solve this most vexing of questions in a permanent fashion, or at least a way to optimize the process?



Oo! Sorry to hear that, mate! Ankano Fireheart here. Sounds like you're really in a troublesome situation and no mistake! We certainly commiserate with you: we have similar troubles in our world, too! Thankfully, Dragons back in the long ago Dream Time were wise enough to realise how much of a threat the Apes kindreds were like to become. No one really took much notice of them at first, and by that time, they were pretty wide spread in the Southlands.

But as others here have said, once they start making food grow from the earth, you'd better deal with them right quick or else all Dragons will be in danger! If there's one thing the Ape folks can not stand, it's competition from another intelligent race! At first, we did just as you are most bravely doing now: scour the world and burn the lot of em wherever we found em! But like water breaching a dam, the Apefolk just kept filling in the gaps left behind.

That's when the Seven Queens of old determined to do something more constructive about the problem. Sure, some of The Wise counseled cooperation and coexistence or even outright political control of the Ape kingdoms. Pssshh! But, really! How boring would that be having to constantly be on the watch over their stupid antics! No, it was decided at the last that all Dragon queendoms must be urged to send out warriors to scour the entire landrealm from East to West and down into the South and burn every settlement of Apefolk they could find. Four queens agreed to the Plan and many warriors were assembled.

And, happily, that worked! When the warriors flew homewards again, they could find no Ape settlements, no Ape gardens or fields throughout all the land. And thereafter, there was peace.

But then a wonder happened the like of which Dragonkind least expected
-- the Apefolk returned! And not only did they return, but they moved ever northwards with a vengeance! Like the Apes of your world, ours, too, had learned the arts of fire and metalcraft. And they seem to have developed a very strict anti-Dragon mytho-legendarium. We deemed there would be no peaceful coexistence with the Apefolk, even had we wished for such a thing! They came riding upon ponderous beasts and these bore weapons that could pierce even our sturdy hides!

Terrible were the wars that they brought on us and many brave Dragons fell. Of the seven ancient realms, but two remained. And still the Apefolk came against us! They painted Dragons upon their metal skins, and those Dragons had mighty spears thrust through their breasts. The Apes had become fearless and dominant.

The Wise had no counsel now. The queens' herzogs had no advice. I'm afraid that our lot was, at that time now not too long ago, much like yours is now, friend! Our choices were limited and it seemed that, difficult as it must seem, we must cede our world entire to the Apefolk, lest they destroy us entirely! Happily for us, we were still several hundreds strong --- more than enough to maintain a much reduced realm, safe from their predations. While it seems you are fighting the good fight without help!

And so it came to pass that the young Queen of the realm of Sheharemard, north beyond the mountains, made a parley with the kings of the Apefolk. Difficult as it was to do, she ceded all the lands of the world south of the Wanlight Mountains to the kings and queens of the Apefolk. But the cold fields of the North would be Dragonhome. Apes must not cross the mountains, or else they will be burnt. Dragons will not enter the lands south of the mountains, or else they will forfeit the Truce.

Of course, the kings agreed, but the lives of the Apefolk are short and their memories, seemingly, shorter still. Even now, the Apefolk regularly try to cross the mountains. Looking for "Dragon gold" they say. Fools!

Anyway, the lesson, my dear friend, is simple: as we are doing, so you must! Stand your ground! Do not listen to the lowly snakes, peddling their ill-conceived counsels of appeasement and conciliation! Do not involve yourself in their realms or their policies. They are Apes, and you are Dragon. Their policies do not take our kind into account, except as far as our destruction. Involving yourself in their doings will only dull your wits and blind you to their greed and ambitions against you!

No, there is no parlay with the Apefolk. They will ever try to kill you. Kings will send their brave knights out to hunt you and mount your head in their feating hall! Choose well your homeland and make a clear demarcation of the territory you will defend at all costs. Burn every Ape that sets one talonless toe across it. Make sure all the other Apes learn that lesson as well!

Sadly, I fear that our plights will be the same. In time, sooner rather than later, you will be defeated: others have said true --- you must win every engagement, the Apefolk must but be lucky once! Just as I am sure that in time, perhaps later rather than sooner, our race, too, will be destroyed by the Apefolk. Even though we came to understand the threat very early on, and much earlier than you did, it was already too late to mount an effective defense against such a determined and pesty foe!

Yet, be of good cheer! Is it not a liberating and exciting sensation? The resistance of wind beneath your wings? The cool rush of the gale through your feathers? The roar of flames bursting from your maw? The screaming of the terror filled Apefolk and the moaning of their dying? Live whilst you may and defend your homeland while you can! You are not guaranteed long life or peace. Make the Apes pay dearly for every foot of land they gain from you! And at the end of the fight, when at last you perched high upon the last crag overlooking the cold ocean, burn as many Apes as you can before their great spears pierce your thick hide and tear asunder your heart and let your last gout of flame burn the fools as they watch you plummet into the chill waters below!

This is a fight neither of us can win, but in the end, it is a fight we can not let them win too easily; and you must not either!

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Re: Some Snippets from The World

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Sarpynx


Sarpynx are thought by some natural philosophers to be deep tellurian beasts while others hold them to be the mythistorical descendants of even greater monsters. Great Wyrms of the deep earth, their kind are mentioned in no recent tale or history; but rather within only the oldest and darkest of myths. Going by various names — Harshqueras, Tiamat or Thalassea or the Midworld Serpent — the monster of old is the personification of the chaos existent before Creation and the chaotic nature of the broken world and the chaos of the deep places of Yeola.

Undoubtedly named after these gargantuan mythistorical horros, the sarpynx are said to be chaotic in nature as well, if of not so great a size, for they are the monsters who cast up ranges of mountains and lines of hills in their wake. They bore great delvings and tunnels deep within the earth, ever consuming, ever destroying, ever churning and creating new earth in their long wanderings.

Terrifying as these great wyrms may be, there is no farmer, no gardener who is not familiar with their tiniest of kindreds, the humble earth wyrm! For, though of diminutive size in comparison, these constant labourers do the same work. They too ravenously consume the earth before them, destroying all in their path, leaving behind them new & fertile earth.

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Re: Some Snippets from The World

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Lifespan of Denêkind


The Denê are a rather long lived race, many reaching or just exceeding their tenth century. There are five eras or plateaux of a Tana’s life, of varying lengths, that he advances through from the beginning of his life until its end.

Infancy: The first era of a Tana’s life is that of infancy. Beginning with his conception deep within his mother’s belly, a Tana child will be considered an infant until about two years of age.

The first growth spurt occurs between about 2 and 4 years of age. This is a period of rapid growth and development. By the time he is 4 or 5 years old, he might appear to be about 8 years of Werreish age.

Childhood: The second era of a Tana’s life is that of childhood. Beginning at about 4 to 5 years and continuing for an extended time until about 19 or 20 years of age, this is a period of slower development. Lots of learning & socialisation, & of course play! occur during this time. Great leaps occur in a child’s cognitive abilities.

The second growth spurt occurs between 20 & 21 years of age. An increase in height; lengthening of wings, arms & legs; increases in strength; considerable development in physical, mental & spiritual grace.

Youth: A Tana reaches almost adult height between 20 and 28 years of age. Deeper learning & study; first accomplishments in basic skills such as hunting, herding, gardening, woodworking, and the like.

The third growth spurt occurs between 28 & 30 years of age or so. This period of physical development culminates with puberty. A youth’s procreative organs mature and become able to conceive and bear children.

Adulthood: The long golden summer of Denê adulthood begins at around age 30 and continues perhaps as much as a thousand years. Having come of age, a Tana now embarks on living his adult life in long relationship with others.

Until at last, after a long and eventful life, most Denê will experience the last physical development, the period of “closing in”. A world weary Tana in the last year or so of his life sleeps a lot & dreams. He seeks solitude & meditation. At the last, when he feels the time is upon him, he will make his farewells, lay himself down and sleep for the last time in this world.

but

Some Denê are called to a different fate. Rather than preparing for the death of the body, these Denê experience a fourth growth spurt. They too will sleep much and dream, and will seek solitude & meditation; but for these individuals it is a period of intense spiritual growth & maturation.

Denê called to remain in the physical world become uplifted to a greatly perfected physical and spiritual state. These individuals might live for a very long time indeed. Some are said to have reached a myriade or more.


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Re: Some Snippets from The World

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Part II of an Essay on Denê Sexuality


One line of inquiry that haunts many humans of the primary world, and without a doubt a very small number of Werres of Yeola, is that of what humans call “orientation”. It’s been asked if all Daine are “straight” or if there aren’t a multitude of “sexual orientations” among them, the way there seems to be among Werrekind.

To that end, let us explore what it means to be Denê, what is involved in their sex relationships and whether or not this implies any of the various “sexual orientation” kinds or whether something else entirely isn’t going on.

Clearly, we don’t ever see Denê of any kind flaunting their sexuality. There's no point in it. There are no “pride” parades, no flamboyant cross dressers; we see no overt manifestation of sex or gender politics in evidence in any Denê society. At this juncture, we’d have to posit that even if the Denê segmented their society based on sexual orientation the way humans in the primary world so often and so sadly do, we’d have to admit that such segmentation is invisible to the observer.

This observer gets the distinct impression of the Denê that what is actually going on is more likely to be a case of “so what if there are no same sex attracted Denê? There are also no Denê with any number of other conditions, proclivities, inclinations, or orientations that Werres may engage in or suffer from. And any way, we’re content with us; why are you so uncontent with us as we are?”

First, let us examine some facts of Denê biology and deep needs:

❦Obviously, Denê are sexual beings. They come in the usual three sexes & four genders. It’s well known, even among Werres, and certainly obvious to all Denê that a girl needs a boy in order to make babies. This is a fundamental drive of all living creatures (even the weird ones): to procreate. For some creatures, procreation is no more difficult than sprouting a bud. For Denê, as it is with Werres, procreation the biological fact intersects with emotions like attraction and choices like marriage and transcendental states like love.

❦Denê are very physical people. They require close physical contact with friends & family & will even seek it with strangers. Even the lonesomest of lone wolves will, from time to time, seek out such companionship as only another Tana can provide.

❦A number of primitive & biological sexual and pseudosexual behaviours can be observed that are engaged in by all sex~gender combinations.

And then, let us consider some matters of Denê behaviour:

❦Social custom has long admitted to a wide variety of opposite, same and mixed sex~gender relationships. Some of these relationships are marriage as properly understood, while others are fundamentally different in nature.

❦A number of curious interpersonal behaviours can be readily observed. Of perhaps greatest frequency is that of tonguing which they call irqit. It is a universal form of greeting by and between all sex & gender & age groups. Biologically speaking, there are important chemoreceptors in the tongue and lips and tonguing conveys a number of chemical messages. Beyond the biological, tonguing is also a form of bonding contact between friends & cohort members; a form of play & stimulation between lovers.

❦Marsuppial sex, or curret is a kind of relaxing & bonding behaviour engaged in by older children, tweens & young adults of the same cohort & friendship groups. In children it is frequently observed among siblings as well. Though curret can be engaged in at any age, it seems rarer after a Tana reaches the first century mark. Girls do this with each other by retracting their labia slightly, thus opening the vaginal os. They will then briefly rub their clitorises together while hugging and perhaps chatting. Boys might briefly rub the ends of their penises together or else give each other a playful tug. A boy, when making curret with a girl, will insert the tip of his penis into her marsuppium, a small indentation along the ventral aspect of her clitoris. Making curret is a kind of psuedo-sexual behaviour the function of which is bonding. It is said to be pleasing and slightly relaxing, but non-orgasmic and “feels different” than vaginal sex.

❦Entangling is a behaviour in which friends and cohort members simply wrap their arms and wings around each other. Fingers are often interlaced, feet and toes may rub each other; bodies are in close contact. A group of friends may walk this way, or else sit and chat or else take a nap this way. Entangling Denê will also have made irqit with each other for sure and may also engage in curret.

❦Chest stroking is also a universal behaviour engaged in by friends, lovers, siblings, parents, and children. The chest, and especially the nipples, are very sensitive areas of a Tana’s body. Gentle, rhythmic stroking imparts a sense of euphoria & connexion, of calming when stressed or fearful. Chest stroking is engaged in by lovers, of course, and also its relative, that of chest licking. But parents stroke their children’s chests and rub their bellies and arms and legs; siblings do this to each other and so do close friends. Boys do this to each other, and so do girls.

❦Other forms of physical contact can be observed between friends, and also relatives and newly made acquaintances: hugging; hand holding, often with fingers interlaced, arms around each other’s waists or necks; wings around each other; fingers interlaced in each other’s hair and feathers, particularly those feathers along the back, between the wings; while sitting, it’s common to find two Denê with their feet touching.

With all this seemingly erotic touching, let us now go deeper and examine the emotional connexions. Daine are, in their very essence and being, loving beings. It is their nature to love — that much should be obvious to even the casual observer! They were created with that capacity, and being of an unfallen nature, their love remains pure and free of malice. They have simply practiced & improved & developped their innate capacities to a high degree and unbroken by ancient missteps.

Of all the various kinds of love in their languages’ lexicons, all Denê recognise the fundamental unity underlying each type. And they do not withhold love from others based on mere facts of biology.

Denê, for all that they are sexual beings and, in point of fact, do engage in the regular and frequent practice of vaginal sex, do not place a very great social or personal importance on sex. It’s a matter of biology, of reproduction, and is just one of a million things that lovers do together as one. For Denê, it is the relationship itself that is the key, not any specific activity, least of all mere sex, that produces within their hearts a deep contentment.

Perhaps part of being loving creatures, Denê react emotionally, physically, physiologically, rationally, and spiritually to beauty. Denê are pretty universally beautiful people, and even those kindreds who are not, as such, “beautiful” are at the very least aesthetic and well proportioned. It is true that a Tana boy can react perfectly normally to a beautiful boy just as he would to a beautiful girl.

Among Denê, it is, as we have said, the relationship that is key. Whether that relationship is between a male & two female lovers or between two male friends or two females. Marriage, as we have noted elsewhere, is universally understood to be a union between a boy and one or more girls (usually a fertile female & her infertile or likely infertile sister, but also with two fertile sisters). This is simply because marriage is understood in terms of creating not only and not merely a loving relationship between adults, but also a family which can welcome the addition of children, who of course need both their female and male parents as well as their assorted familial relations.

While the terminologies vary, many other kinds of relationship are open, not only to close couples of the same sex~gender combinations but also to those of other sex~gender combinations and even mixed gender groups. These sibling-like relationships, of course, do not preclude any of the behaviours we’ve already discussed. Except obviously, for sex, Denê in such relationships would still need a partner of an opposing sex~gender.

Marriage, it should be noted, however, remains preeminent among Denê relationship forms. Should a baby — the natural consequence of vaginal sex — take shape from within one of the other kinds of relationship, the couple (or trio) that made the baby will naturally separate and form their own family through a marriage.

So, where does this leave us? What do all these observations mean? Are we any closer to understanding the Denê? Are we actually seeing “bisexual” or “same sex atracted” Denê here? Or is it, as some fear, that all Denê are actually “straight”, just a bit queer in their behaviours?

Or, is there something else going on here entirely? Could it not be that Denê are simply not conforming to Werrish (or human) norms in both directions? Perhaps, in stead of the expected dichotomy (etceterasexual vs. heterosexual), could it not be that Denê are simply traversing a different continuum entirely? Perhaps a continuum of their own devising, or at least one suited to their kind, constitution, and nature? Perhaps Denê simply can’t be pigeonholed the way Werres (and humans) like to pigeonhole themselves & each other!

We might conclude that, from a certain perspective, all Denê are something like pansexual, though with the overwhelmingly vast majority eventually settling into F+M sexual relationships as a matter of biological drive, while still engaging in F+M, M+M & F+F pseudosexual & emotional relationships.

It is probably unfair, in the end, to call them by any particular name — and most especially a name that is suitable for Werres, but not for Denê — simply because it will be an ill fit. Put quite simply: Denê are not like Werres. Their bodies, their minds, their spirits, their intellects, their souls, their temperaments, their spiritual & moral alignments are all so radically different from those of Werrekind that, even though the two races share many facts of existence in common, there can be only superficial comparison and much room for confusion and speculation.

Lastly, let us consider some things from the perspective of a Tana. A Tana might say in response to this line of enquiry: “You know, I think some of your questions stem from what we Denê see in each other, and also how we see each other. And your assumptions stem from what you see in yourselves, rather than what you see in us.

"We’re not like you Werres. What and how we see each other is, in particular, a function of our nakedness. You see us naked and think we’re savages. You see us touching and laying with each other and think we’re promiscuous. But that’s not what we see. For us, nakedness is not a matter of ‘not wearing clothing’. No. For us, it is the revelation of the person: not just the body, but the soul that the body enrobes. It is the revelation of the whole person: our physical bodies, yes, but also our hearts, our minds, our souls, our thoughts and our very being. We see the outer image, but also the deep luminance of each other’s true selves.


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"Naked, we Denê are wholly seen and wholly known by others; and we wholly see and know the others around us. Really, it comes down, I think, to our relationships. Whether it’s me and my girls or me and my bond-brother or me and my cousins. It’s these unions of people I love; they make my heart full in a way that mere physical attraction or sexual attraction can never do. I guess it’s more whole person attraction for us. And let me tell you! My bond-brother is pretty cute! But my girls — well, they’re rare beauties indeed!

"So yeah, I love my boy; but that’s, you know, different in a way. Even you Werres know that opposing forces attract. Kind of counter intutive, right? But we know it’s true! Boys and girls are opposing forces, you might say. But there’s more to it. Him I love with my heart and my mind. But we’re the same, we’re both boys. With girls, our difference isn’t like hot and cold. No, boys and girls are like a key in a lock or a spear in the atlatl or the breath in a whistle. Apart, we are useless. But together, we form a new whole. Different, we compliment each other the way two boys can’t. Two boys, we’re like two pillars holding up a roof beam or Yeola and Camay dancing around the Sun. We never join into one being.”

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Re: Some Snippets from The World

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Beresean


The fortress at Culmertu stood before me, looming in the thick fog. I liked the fog. It hid me pretty well from the folks living there. I had already managed to get through the wood and wicker gate, and was just about to continue on with my mission when I heard voices from beyond the gate. Others were headed my way! I hid myself as best I could in some recess while they passed.

Tall and dark brown haired they were, and their feathers were brown and black. Quite different from my own red hair and feathers. They wore raccas of many colors which were fur trimmed and each had gaily clanking arm rings, neck rings, ankle rings, colored beads and trinkets of bone round their necks. On each of their heads was a kind of woven band with long feathers attached to it. War chiefs, each one of them; but not the one I was to look for.

The one I was sent to kill, Esanaya, would be wearing a head dress of all red feathers — feathers taken from warriors of my kindred! Feathers from my own brother’s wings. He would be waiting in a chamber for these new comers, so I quietly followed, as silent as a stalking wildcat and twice as cunning to be sure! In order to keep silent, I wore no trinkets and no racca and my hair was bound up tight with a narrow woven ribbon, a parting gift from one I could only dream of meeting again. I could afford to make no noise this day! I only carried a single spear with a very narrow and jagged bronze head. Sure to kill, and I was skilled enough to send it towards my prey and let it do its job. I would have only one chance to defeat this powerful enemy of my folk!

Up the stairs to a dark corridor I followed the invited guests. They never suspected that one more uninvited would be attending their meeting! At last they came to a doorway from which a low wavering glow emanated. Undoubtedly a single fire was burning in the central hearth.

I waited a few moments before peeking around the openeing to the hall. It was not large, and my prey was standing before the fire, speaking to his chiefs about plans to attack and kill my folk. I didn’t pay much attention to his talk. We are a warlike folk, we Alghadaine, and have long been at odds with the dark haired Troaghladaine. Their plans were well enough known; but my interest was in the boy speaking and I gauged how far he would be from me and how many others would be nearby or in the way. I had but one chance to rob them of their Esanaya, their great champion, the one who most wanted to eradicate my kin. The one who slew my brothers! Had they died in battle, all would be well. They would have given him honourable combat! But no, Esanaya had captured them and killed them while bound.

He would soon begin to harangue them into a frenzy, and I knew I’d better get this done sooner, when they would be more shocked and less inflamed. I took a last look back down the corridor towards the stair and my way out; then leapt up and careened around the corner and into the hall.

My quarry had stepped from behind the fire, ready to begin his war speech. So much the better!

I took a deep breath and called out his name: “Esanaya! I am Berasean! I claim your life for the lives of my brothers!” Before any of his folk could move, I had already sent my arm & my spear thrusting towards his waiting body. He said nothing, and his eyes glowed with surprise as the smooth hafted and jagged headed spear thrust deep into my prey’s chest. I grunted with the effort and felt the sharp bronze pierce his skin, tear through muscle and sinew, flay his beating heart. His blood ran from the deep wound, splashed over my arm, gushed to the floor. I heard him moan, and I turned. I heard as his collapsing body fell to the stone paved floor. I was nearly to the door when the first of the other warriors there cried out and I was pounding down the corridor when the alarm was raised.

My own heart was thumping as I raced down the stair and towards the door that led towards escape. I did not even think about whether I would escape and live, or die here in Culmertu. I did not care. I had done my duty; Berasean had dealt a great blow against our enemies, one they would not forget soon and one that would weaken and undo their alliances against us.

In a moment, I was out the door and racing across the stone landing, heading towards the short stair that went down to the gate passage. Warriors chased me close behind, and I could hear others shouting in the thick fog beyond. Perhaps they won’t be able to see me? That was my hope!

I heard it then. Surely the same sound Esanaya heard a short while ago: the sound of a warrior wielding a spear. I skidded to a halt — and there it was before me, rushing out of the fog! It’s long bronze point graceful and graceful too the arms that wielded it, overhead and descending in a beautiful arc. The warriors behind me saw it as well. They knew what I knew, in that moment: the chase was done. I spread my wings and arms wide, cast my best undeafeated glance towards my pursuers. Taking a deep breath I turned to stare keenly into my own death wielder’s wide blue eyes with my own green ones.

I couldn’t help but say to myself, Berasean, the hunter has become the prey! I gave her a quick grin.

The feeling of the long and cold bronze blade parting my ribs, tearing through my flesh — those things I had never felt before, and I knew then what pain my own prey had felt. The force of the heavy spear sent me sprawling backwards into the wall. I felt my shoulder blades and arms smack into the wood of it, then my head.

I came to my senses reeling with the pain, but I realized that I hadn’t fallen. The great spear head buried itself in the wall and fixed my body to it. It was a powerful thrust, but it missed my heart. My breath was ragged and I coughed a lot of blood, the red of it mingling with the red of my long hair and the red of Esanaya’s blood.

I lifted my head, my eyes still defiant. Warriors were ranged around me in an arc, my slayer in the center. They must have been afraid I’d rip the spear from the wall and kill them all! I tried to laugh at the thought, but only managed a weak cough. No, I would kill no more. And they were content to stand by and watch me as I took my last weakening breaths.

I was the wounded stag and they were the hunters. They would wait until I stopped breathing, until I stopped bleeding. I found it hard to keep my eyes open. I felt sleepy. My legs and wings and arms began to tingle. My heart was weakening, my breath now shallow. I couldn’t even cough out the blood pooling in my lungs.

I tilted my head back against the wall. My arms hung useless at my sides; my wings lay along the cold stones of the landing. I breathed once, then paused. Another shallow breath. My spirit knew the next breath would be the last. I smiled at them watching me die. Their faces told me they knew I would die undefeated. Ay, dogged to the last, is Beresean!

I took that last breath, a slight smile playing about my cold lips, my green eyes staring at my enemies.

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Re: Some Snippets from The World

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A curious message in a bottle was found one day...

·The Apocalypse of Saint John Geminius·


In the End, there was Man and the World, and they were Good.


On the first day, Man, who was intelligent, looked about himself at the wide world. Man saw the sky, the rivers, the land and the animals all around. He said to the others with him: “Let us take from this Land the materials we need to build a city for ourselves!” And this they did.


On the second day, Man looked upon the rivers, clear and mighty and majestic. He said to those at his side: “Let us cast our wastes into the river so that we may be rid of them, and we shall never look on them anymore!” And this they did.


On the third day, Man looked upon the lands about, beautious, living and clean. He said to them: “Let us level the forests and lay low this wondours land, gift of God, that we may spread our cities round about and then build roads and all other things that comfort us!” And this they did, and their lives were exceeding comfortable.


On the fourth day, Man gazed heavenward, jealous, into the aether. There in the air, he saw the birds flying free, unencumbered by the grasp of the earth, and the clouds, floating through the sky. And Man said to his companions: “Let us burn our leftover wastes that we throw not into the river, and our toxins and poisons; the winds shall carry them away and we shall never look on them anymore!” And this they did; they burnt their wastes on great pyres and they were rid of them. Now, Man was exceeding proud of all his works, and he rejoiced in his own prowess.


On the fifth day, Man heard the cries of the animals around him, pleading with him to clear the air and waters and restore the ravaged land. Yet Man was ignorant of their voices and heard them not. In stead, he said to those with him: “Let us hunt these dumb beasts for sport and sell their pelts to the leather crafters and shoemongers!” This they did and they became wealthier for their exploits.


On the sixth day, Man looked out from his city, and spied other people moving into his lands and settling there and building their own cities. He was afraid of them, so he said to those gathered with him: “Come! Let us build us up a great wall and a rampart, and let us place thereon many catapaults and cannons, so that we may defend ourseves from their pillage and rape!” And this they did; and the Others took note and did much the same. Then Man, fearing his new enemeies more and more, said to those with him: “Defensive works are not enough! Let us construct weapons that will spill the blood of our enemies and secure our own survival!” And this they did, taking their plows and scythes and making of them swords and guns and maces beautiful and terrible to behold.And they defended their city. Man decided that the Others were intruding upon the lands that Man had cleared and were using up the air and waters that Man had reshaped to his own liking and had called his own. Therefore, he said to those with him: “Come now! Let us make war upon these invaders, who trample upon our Land and despoil our water and breathe our selfsame air! Let us bring upon them a swift and violent war that we may be rid of them entirely.”


On the seventh day, Man no longer looked out of his city upon the poisoned river or the ravaged lands, no longer looked up into the dirty skies. For Man no longer walks the land, nor breathes the air nor drinks the water that he tailored to his own selfserving, selfindulgent and selfdestructive comfort. For Man lives no more on this world. Being an account of the End. Let this not happen again! Praise the Three for ever.

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elemtilas
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Re: Some Snippets from The World

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Two Competing Theories on the Formation of Land


Plutonism
Plutonism is one of the theories of the natural philosophers that explains the build up of the layers of rock within the world. (Principle proponent of the theory was Pluton of Pylicundas, 1412-1560) The primary concept is the Theory of Worms. The formation of deep, plutonic rock is founded upon worms, the eternal, ever changing megatheria that thrive within the regions of the world energised by the Ankanic Fires of the Uttermost Deeps. These worms of fire travel through the plumes or tunnels that they delve & intrude upon layers of cooler stone. Their igneous leavings wear away & settle again into new layers of sedimentary stone.


Neptunism
Pluton engaged in a number of heated debates with Neptunia of Narfoun (1400-1488) who proposed the theory of Neptunism. Neptunism holds that the build up of the layers of rock within the world stems from the process of precipitation. The world having been originally conceived and created as a gigantic ball of milky water, the younger gods determined to churn this great ocean of milk to recover the treasures that lay in deeps. This they did, building up the axis mundi, the first island. Having also brought up the seeds of twenty kinds of fruit trees, the twelve metals and the seven kinds of precious gems and the eighteen fundamental forms, they took to bickering over the treasures. Leaving off their task, the waters of the Ocean began to recede, precipitating out all the minerals in suspension. These forming the bulk of the water’s volume became laid down in layers. Over time, the water receded from the deposited land and clarified considerably. The only minerals remaining in the water were the dissolved salts.

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