[2004/03] Across the Vast Divide

[Ziv]

[turbine]

Event Page at Turbine

Wintersebb, 15 P.Y.

Quoted Fiction at Turbine

"In the course of our travels to other worlds, it has become apparent that we are not the only entities that are aware of the place that exists between these worlds. It can be theorized that we are not the first race to pass through these portal wells, nor will we be the last." Asheron Realaidain, Master of the Lyceum at Knorr

Wails grew louder and the little figure looked backward, tripped on a root, and tumbled into the thick muck of the Blackmire Swamp. Though the nights were warmer than they had been only weeks before, the night air was still wintry. The creature's muscles stiffened and his blood became as viscous as the winter swamp about him. Another wail sounded and the mosswart clapped his yellow-green hands over his ears and met the sound with a scream of his own. His breath came in short gasps and his saucer eyes looked about wildly.

"Dead all!" the little thing howled into the night. Crying and whimpering, he grasped the roots of the nearby banyan tree and struggled to his feet. The wail echoed through the swamp again, the sound of hundreds of claws drawing across slate in perfect unison. Chills ran down the mosswart's spine and he pushed away from the tree and launched into a full sprint. His wide feet sent the filth of the Blackmire into the air as he ran southeast from his home.

For hours Grearrk ran. Squealing, scampering, tumbling, running, covered in filth and blood, driven by the panic and fear that had crept into his heart as he slept and the horror that had nearly drained his soul when he woke. He ran through the swamp,southeast toward the humans. They would help. The Banderlings were as much an enemy to them as they were to the Mosswarts. When the torches of Sawato became visible the panic in Grearrk's heart began to subside. He was filled with hope and pressed his little form even harder.

Ite Kenzen had stepped out of his tavern to enjoy the first of what he hoped would be several warm nights in Wintersebb, when he saw the yellow-brown form charging toward him with large wild eyes. He yelped and tried to roll to his right as the mosswart sprung upon him and toppled him to the ground.

"Help won't you, Grearrk! Help won't you!" The mosswart screamed again and again. Its little voice sounded hoarse. The creature lifted Ite to a sitting position and then slid behind him, cowering and using his body as a shield. Ite felt a wave of panic wash over him -- the mosswart was fleeing from something and he was being used as a shield. As the creature's voice fell to a whimper, Ite began to scan the outskirts of the town for signs of what happened. A patron came from the tavern and drew a sword. The mosswart screeched and scurried beneath the steps of the establishment, bawling and begging in broken Roulean.

Ite, free of the creature's grasp, stood and held a hand up toward the adventurer. He shook his head and then spoke to the mosswart in a gentle tone.

"What happened?"

"Wanga, without warning comes Wanga. Machine of screams is hidden in home. Banderlings bring Wanga in screams. Very bad is new magic! Dead all, dead all! Grearrk escape only. Help won't you Grearrk?" The little creature crouched on all fours and shifted left and right, wary that the sword-wielding human would lash out him.

Ite looked at the frightened creature and turned to adventurer. "Fetch a guard for me."

"Hurt no, Grearrk. No weapons he brings. Hurt no, Grearrk," the creature sobbed.

"I am going to help you, Grearrk."

*****

Ulgrim staggered along the roadside and smiled as he saw the broken lifestone in the distance. Taking another pull from his ale he made his way up the short incline and stared at the shards of blue. He dropped his stein to ground. It landed with a thud and miraculously did not spill a drop. From within the folds of his robe he produced a wand and started an incantation. In the middle of the casting a belch escaped his lips and a scent of burning hair was all that remained of the mage. Fortunately, he had grabbed his brew.

*****

"I am sorry, Aulakhe, I have not heard from Lord Asheron in several weeks." Elysa sat beside the crouching Tumerok and spoke softly, trying to console him. "If the place where the atua ngamaru are keeping Aun Tanua has become unstable, I am sure that many will come to investigate." The tumerok bowed his head and shook it in agreement once.

"Thank you, Ispar Elysatah. I will do my best to strengthen the will of those in my akiekie." He rose and turned to leave but stopped short as he heard footsteps coming to the door.

Antius pushed the door open and gave a half-bow and salute to Aun Aulakhe, then turned his attention to Elysa.

"It is true. The mosswart's name is Grearrk. He's resting now just outside of Sawato. We looked over the structures he directed us to between Sawato and the ruins of Yanshi." He smiled lightly. "We found that there were several mosswarts who were not attacked, but he spoke true. His hovel looked like a massacre had taken place." He passed Aulakhe and sat beside Elysa. The Tumerok lightly beat the drum at his waist. "We searched the area briefly; aside from the stench we could see nothing out of the ordinary."

"We shall see what the morning light brings," Elysa said calmly and nodded her head as she placed her hand atop Antius'.

"Ispar Elysatah, Ispar Antiusnua, the spirits are agitated. Their words warn of a terrible kah that comes to us all. They know fear," Aun Aulakeh said in a quiet tone.

"Whatever that is, Aulakhe, we shall stand against it and set the spirits to ease once again. Our Xuta's will be strong, together." Elysa smiled to reassure the young Tumerok leader.

*****

As the sun began to rise over the Blackmire, a thin vine reached through the surface of the swamp and promptly perished.

[Ziv]

[turbine]

from Turbine:

Antius made his way along the road leading into Hebian-to. No one in Cragstone knew of Rage Lao's whereabouts. He hoped beyond hope that his search would be more fruitful in the Sho capital. The sun was high in the sky and the city was active, hope filled him when he saw that the archmage's shop door was open and two patrons stood within. One ran off before he had the time to speak but the second remained behind.

"Excuse me, miss?" He spoke softly as to not startle her.

"Yes?" She asked as she turned to him.

"Do you happen to know a man who goes by the name, Rage Lao?" Antius asked.

"Yes," she replied smiling brightly, "used to be in the same monarchy as him."

There was more than simply hope now, it was nearly assured that Antius would find the man and garner the information that the council needed to continue its investigations. Ever since the wave of magic first coursed over Dereth there were questions. What caused the surge? What had the surge of magic hit? What happened and what caused this? He felt closer to those answers. The process to find Rage Lao had been exhaustive, but town criers, merchants and others were forthcoming with the information once they understood the severity of the situation.



"Excellent, might you know where I can find him?" he asked, "It is a matter of some importance to the High Queen."

"Only place would be at the mansion not far outside of Arwic." The woman paused, "If he's even awake."

Antius frowned. Not as fruitful as he would have liked, still enough information to work with. In his excitement he realized that he had forgotten his manners and quickly tried to recover.

"How foolish of me, I am Seneschal Antius Blackmoor." He paused, "Outside of Arwic you say&" again he frowned, "Perhaps you know some of the people he entered the temple in the Blackmire Swamp with?"

"Tiffney, and I am sorry, I have no idea," the woman replied pleasantly.

"Very well, thank you for your time."

"No problem, sorry that I wasn't more of a help to you." She smiled and left the shop.



Another patron had overheard the discussion and now bowed before Antius. He was taken aback. Now I know how Elysa feels when I do this, Antius thought..

"I couldn't help but overhear, sir. I believe that Lao is slumbering, but if you give me a moment I could see about waking him," the patron said, offering a kind gesture. "I can contact my allegiance mates and see if they can find someone who might know him."

"If you cannot find him, then perhaps anyone that he traveled with into the depths of the temple within the Blackmire Swamp. I must speak with those that first entered that temple," Antius replied. He also noticed the armor that the man wore it was unusual.

"You have nice armor," the man said.

"I was thinking the same of the breastplate you wear. Not crafted by the hands of any Isparian, that is clear. The design is also too rigid and coarse to have been crafted during the Yalain epochs. It must be older..." Antius continued to inspect the armor.

"The armor I wear now is from the Blackmire Swamp, we call it the Blackmire Armor." The man responded with a bright smile, obviously proud of his prize. Antius felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "I am Mage Master, the humble follower of Princess Ashake."

"I have heard of Ashake, as has High Queen Elysa... have you had any luck finding any of the first few to enter that Temple?" Antius responded absently, then pressed forward half-thinking aloud moving a hand to scratch at his chin, "Dericostian armor also seems rounder in appearance. This armor is unique. I must apologize for forgetting myself. I am Seneschal Antius Blackmoor," he finished, finally taking his eyes off of the armor.

"No sir, I have not. Perhaps you should try Arwic," the man suggested.

"Thank you," Antius said and turned to head back into the day and find his way to Arwic.

As usual, Arwic was bustling. He made his way into the local tavern and sat waiting, hoping that word would reach Rage Lao and that his search would not be in vain. At last a man cloaked in a Gelidite Robe found in the frozen and forgotten city of Frore made his way into the establishment and came to his table.

"Hello," the man said timidly. Antius stood and saluted the man who returned the salute with a look of confusion.



"Hail." The two men sat and exchanged smiles. "I've been asked to look into the events that took place in the Blackmire Swamp not long ago. High Queen Elysa Strathelar has asked that I speak with you directly as you are the one person that we could confirm was present when the wave of magic washed across Dereth."

"Okay," Rage Lao, still nervous, responded.

"What happened, exactly? We've been receiving reports that there is something within that temple...some creature that we have not seen before." A pause. "I was hoping you could tell me. The Royal Guard and I surveyed the area but found nothing of interest the night after the Mosswart ran into Sawato."

Rage Lao leaned back in his seat as other patrons made their way into the tavern. "Well, we found a temple, cave or grotto of Empyrean make. Looking around, I discovered a secret wall, behind which was a dead looking vine that I reached for and tried to pick up. But," he shook his head as if remembering the pain of the moment, "it teleported me, but it was unlike anything I have felt before, like my body was being torn apart&"

"Please, continue." Antius said as he leaned forward, listening.

"Inside was a strange temple. On each wall was a button revealing secret doors, challenges and tests that we passed easily. Sclavus were within, working with Falatacot Patriarchs and Matriarchs."

"More Falatacot?" Antius interjected.

"They seemed to be guarding the place with the Sclavus."

"Sclavus and the Falatacot make sense, in my travels I have learned that they enact the Rites once performed by the Falatacot blood cults." Antius said thoughtfully.

"Interesting&"

"It does not surprise me that they would be working in unison." There was a long pause as patrons ordered ale and milled about. "Lao, I apologize if I am being rather informal, but I would like to know whether you can contact any of the others who were with you in that temple. Elysa-- The High Queen, and the council believe that...well..."

"I am listening."

"After speaking with Shoyanen and Celdiseth, we believe that you may have triggered new portals."

"You mean those creatures, I had never seen one of them on this island of Dereth before."

"Yes. We don't mean to alarm you, or anyone in the populace...but with Lord Asheron out of contact deep within the halls of his ancestral home...we are at a loss." Antius paused a moment searching the man's face. Realization was setting in. "The magic that washed over Dereth...do you recall of what I am speaking?"

"I remember, when my party entered, there was some spell that bound us together, but"

"I was speaking of the magic that washed across this world and struck some sort of barrier. Do you remember that?"

"Yes&yes&it was alarming to say the least. I did not think much of it then, but now, I am becoming worried a bit," Rage Lao stammered. Antius hated this. It was unfair and was beginning to attract attention. He looked to the other patrons then and asked the question of those gathered.

"Anyone recall the magic I am speaking of?" Numerous nods and muted voices filled the tavern. "That magic as unlike anything that we have ever seen before. Our best guess is that it was some type of spell meant to seal something. If Celdiseth is right then it struck some other spell that was meant as a barrier."

"A barrier from who?" a woman in the crowd asked.

"Fadsahil and Ciandra are currently working with others within the Arcanum to determine that as we speak. As best as we can surmise it may be a protective barrier that had been put in place by Lord Asheron. Something meant to keep the Olthoi out... but that is not clear at this time." Antius spoke knowing full well that it was the best guess anyone could muster at this time. The fact was they didn't know if what they had seen and felt was even real. "It may have all been part of the same illusion... if it was an illusion." More muted discussion began, people wondering if a barrier could really keep the Olthoi out. "But the reason I am here is to find out if there were any objects within that temple that could have been identified as portals."

"You mean the strange devices?" a voice called from the crowd.

"Yes, the devices&" Rage Lao said and Antius felt his heart sink deeper.

"Truly?" It was all he could say. He knew that he would find that they were there, but he had been hoping that it might all be an illusion. It's not, Antius thought, something has found its way here and the Isparians are to blame for this. Our ignorance has brought something to the world that even the Falatacot feared.

"Yes, in fact one of my friends brought one back to their mansion," Rage Lao continued.

"Can you take me to it?" Antius asked.

The run was not long, the mansion sat at a landing carved into a steep hill. Several people milled about, curious as to his arrival. They spoke quietly amongst themselves leaving Antius and the others that had gathered to continue discussing.



"This is the device?" Antius asked, knowing full well it had to be. Two concentric circles surrounded a solid disk with a red center, like an ever-watchful eye staring across worlds. It was hooked at the corner of the mansion. The circles floated, defying the world to pull them to the ground -- powerful geomantic magic. Shoyanen would be interested in seeing these.

"Yes it is. Could we be vulnerable to attacks now?" Rage Lao asked, his discomfort becoming more apparent.

"It is unclear," Antius stated as he looked the device over, consulted notes that he had been given by Shoyanen and looked at the dimensions and artistic impression of the device. "Were there any others like this?"

"Few that I have seen."

"I meant in the temple, Lao."

"Yes." The woman, who had identified herself after speaking in the bar as Askani, spoke up. "Four of them." Others began confirming her statement.

"Yes, there were four others, five if you count this one." Rage Lao paused and lowered his head.

"The others, did they do anything?"

"They drained my health when I touched them."

"As if siphoning your life?"

"All four of them did." Rage stumbled for more words. "Only at first, I couldn't get them to produce the siphoning again." Antius lowered his head and the crowd could sense the weight of the situation. "When we entered the room, I was the only one brave enough to touch them."

"Or crazy," a voice called from the crowd. Voices began to rise and Antius turned away.

"These creatures...that were in this temple...were they there before or after you used those devices?" Antius asked.

"Now that you mention it, they were there after&" Rage Lao walked to Antius' side and spoke quietly. "I used those devices, and they started entering the room."

"A spell to seal them away..." Antius said to no one in particular.

"So they are using them now freely to enter our world?" a voice in the crowd demanded. Our world? This isn't our world, and the longer we're here the more we make a mess of it, Antius thought. The crowd began to become belligerent and angry toward Rage Lao.

"I hope I did not bring something terrible into this world," Rage Lao said quietly, "but it does look that way."

"It is possible that these creatures are coming from somewhere else." Antius shook his head and placed a hand on Rage Lao's shoulder. "Don't blame yourself. There is no way that you could have known, Lao. We are still fledglings here." How true, this is just another example of this. Asheron's not here to fix this problem. We need to find an answer on our own.

"Thank you, I feel a bit better, but still a little uneasy," Rage replied. You and I both, Lao&you and I both, Antius thought.

"Should a group accompany members of the council to further investigate?" another patron who had made himself known asked from the gathered crowd.

"That may well occur... I am sorry, I did not catch your name."

"Dirk, sire."

Another addressing him as a noble, it made him uncomfortable. He had come here to learn and was leaving with more questions than answers. He was also making matters worse by involving so many. But there was little that could be done about that now.

"Please, I am not nobility. You needn't address me as sire." He walked to the edge of the mansion, careful not to breach the barrier.

"Antius, we could take you there for a look at the creatures yourself, if you wish," another crowd member offered.

"No, no. I must report these findings to the council." He looked to all assembled and removed the gem that would return him to Elysa's stronghold from his pouch. "Thank you for your time." As he crushed the gem, he could help but think that time was going to become short for all of them.

Something has crossed the vast divide to this world, something that an ancient race feared. What have we done?

Elysa was waiting with Shoyanen, Fadsahil and Ciandra.

[Ziv]

[turbine]

from Turbine:

Part Two

Rain fell in torrential sheets, splattering the already foul mire toward the weeping heavens. For one hundred and twelve cycles it had rained. Ruuk Soothsayers danced around sheltered luminescent fungi and told tales of The Sleeping One, the time of reckoning and the revelations that will bring the circle of vengeance closed. They had long ago cleansed the tainted Fiazhat race from the surface of Bur, their world, but remnants of Fiazhat Gods hunted them still.

Torgluuk, shaman of the Ruuk and master of this Clutch listened half-heartedly to the prattle of his less learned cousins. His thoughts were decidedly on the swamp and the rising waters. For hundreds of years he and his spawn had made their homes in fetid mires, connected by viscous rivers of swale and though they lived in fear of the Fiazhat and their Gods, they knew peace. But that was before the The Sleeping One first stirred and split the world for the second time. Then their larger cousins, the Guruk and Kukuur, had exhumed themselves from subterranean layers to bring war. At first Torgluuk's elders had argued against their cousins, but the perpetuation of The Sleeping One's legend slowly ate into the hearts of them all and they readied for war against the Fiazhat.

Two hundred years of war followed. Generations of progeny were sometimes forgotten, allowing the Moars to consume the young, or the few that survived became feral beasts that survived off of the swamp and understood little of the gifts of The Sleeping One. The Ruuk also suffered ignominy at the hands of the Kukuur. Through all of that hardship they had endured and thrived. Though the shamans of the Ruuk would never be as potent as the Elder Shamans of the Kukuur, some, like Torgluuk, came close to rivaling the Kukuur Summoners. But for all their gifts with subterfuge and misdirection the Ruuk were still not able to overthrow the Kukuur and lead the Clutches. Now they were subjugated and sent to the far corners of Bur to safeguard the places where once the Gods of their enemies visited from another place.

This too was a tale from The Sleeping One, the tale that the soothsayer now told by the wan light of the koruu koruu fungus.

"The false ones came from across the vast divide, in tunnels of thunder, smoke and light. They came with gifts for the hated enemy. They came with power for the Fiazhat. They came with slaughter on their minds, the slaughter of the Ruuk, Guruk and Kukuur. But we would not fall!

"So The Sleeping One rumbled beneath the world and gave to its children the koruu koruu, jooluu, huntoo and bormoo fungus. In brew, on flesh, as food, those closest to The Sleeping One could touch the mass of his body and take the gift of magic from him" The soothsayers threw blasts of acid from their hands to accentuate the point. The younger adepts and adherents croaked and whooped in approval. As the cheers dulled, Torgluuk spied three forms swimming toward the camp through the mire.

Straining his eyes to see into the darkness Torgluuk spied three sets of smallish eyes, and heads with thick crowns; clutchmates. Likely, it was the group that set out earlier this stormy night to hunt for bomutuk, a succulent larval form of the bomutur. How such a giant worm, as long as Torgluuk's arm and plump as his head, could become a flying stinging beast like the bomotuk was beyond even the Kukuur Elder's understanding. It mattered little to the Ruuk though, both were a tasty dinner and the rains made the bomutur worm slither to the surface of the swamp where it was easier to catch. Morgluuk, Torgluuk's closest clutchmate and strongest warrior, lead the small hunting band. Torgluuk would be eager to see what was caught.

He slipped down along the branches of the mighty Tkoruk tree and lowered himself into the water with the aid of a vine. Above him the soothsayers continued to dance and sing the tales. They truly believed that the time of the revelations was here. One hundred and twelve cycles had passed without the fire in the sky. It was entirely possible they were right, but Torgluuk wanted to stay focused and alert. The Moars were always nearby these days. As the cool muck of the mire spread onto Torgluuk's flesh the bormoo that grew there began glowing gold in the night.

"You return with bomutur?" he asked.

"Have we ever failed to find a nest?" Morgluuk asked. Everything Morgluuk said was a challenge. He knew no other way. He was a savage. Most of his time was spent fighting with other savages in the deep swamps where the Moars were most plentiful. He was always fighting. Fighting had become part of everything that he was. He lifted a bushel of bomutur and ordered the other savages to bring the catch up into the Tkoruk and prepare the meal.

"Are the Moars advancing?" Torgluuk asked as he watched the hunters spring from the water to a large branch and then into the glow of the koruu koruu. There was a cheer as they showed the catch and then the soothsayers began again; Torgluuk shook his head.

"You still do not believe? A shaman without the heart of The Sleeping One, how did the fungus not devour your innards?" Morgluuk brushed at the glowing fungus on his clutchmate's flesh. They shared a small moment of laughter. "They move closer, the others did not see the signs but I see that they close. Fire breathers, talons of ice."

They stared at one another for a moment.

"Damned be the Fiazhat and their 'Gods'!" Morgluuk croaked in defiance. "Without their tampering we would rule this world now."

Torgluuk knew it was true. After the Fiazhat had been eradicated, peace reigned for some time, only to be shattered when the Moars came from the depths and made war again. Since that time they had not known peace. The memories of the ancestors flowed through their veins and so they knew the past, knew that the Fiazhat's 'Gods' had brought this plague upon them.

"They are damned already. The last of their kind fell beneath our blades over 800 years ago. Their 'Gods' are dead longer." Torgluuk drank deeply of the swamp to slake a thirst. "We are the masters of this world. We drive the Moars away whenever they come."

Morgluuk waved a hand dismissively toward Torgluuk and leapt to the vine above them. He began to climb toward the meal and celebration of the tears of The Sleeping One. Torgluuk stared after him a moment and then looked out over the still swamp. Out there were the Moars; they would come for this temple again. The eyes of the false 'Gods' stared out to the Moars, calling them to each temple site across Bur. Morgluuk threw a clump of offal down on his clutchmate.

"Come, shaman! You must lead the dinner pray"His statement was cut short by the sound of thunder. Torgluuk watched as Morgluuk was blasted off the limb of the Tkoruk and unceremoniously deposited into the mire, head first. Other bodies flew through the air, scattering on all sides about Torgluuk, and a muted violet glow throbbed from the mouth of the ancient Fiazhat temple.

Morgluuk pulled himself free of the muck and sprang to the side of the Clutch's leader, sickle and sword drawn. He croaked orders and gave off a scent to warn any that were conscious that they were under attack. He looked at Torgluuk expectantly.

"It is time," Torgluuk stated without thought. This could only be the sign, the moment about which the soothsayers had been singing only moments before. He had not believed that it was possible, had not wanted to believe that the Fiazhat 'Gods' still lived. He looked to his clutchmate and leapt onto the branch of the mighty Tkoruk. Morgluuk followed and ordered the others to stay below.

When they landed and looked at the stone slabs that stood amongst the ruins of the ancient temple they knew immediately that the prophecies were right. The Sleeping One had awakened and their time was now. They looked below at their clutch and croaked in triumph. The echoes of their voices carried deep into the swamp unnerving every manner of beast. Even the Moars would not come this night.

There in the ruins, a tunnel of dark gray mist, swirling lightning and the sound of a thunderhead beckoned. Torgluuk clucked his tongue and looked at Morgluuk.

"I believe." Torgluuk let a smile spread, showing rows of sharp teeth.

"This is our time brother! Damned be the Kukuur. We, the Ruuk, shall claim this victory!" Morgluuk howled in defiance. Another thunderclap sounded in the sky and the rain suddenly began to clear. Torgluuk turned and walked to the edge of the Tkoruk.

"Ruuk of the Clutch of Tkoruk Guruul, The Sleeping One has sent us the sign!"

[Ziv]

[turbine]

Rollout Article

The sound of porous bone drawn across supple flesh presages the appearance of blood-soaked words. There is no quill writing upon the page, nor is there light in this chamber, far removed from the surface of the world. No footfalls in the hallways, no being working over the tome, only a whisper of a woman's voice endlessly speaking, followed by the sound of bone carving the flesh of the book. So it has been since the coming of the dark ones, since the world grew cold and darkness consumed darkness while the light whimpered and watched its children fall.

The sun rises each morning. The moons come each night. Words ceaselessly appear on the pages of this book. Auberean has survived by way of these constants. But what happens to creation if the words one day&stop?

[Ziv]

[turbine]

from Rollout Article at Turbine

Dangers seem to be everywhere in Dereth these days. Zharalim working for the Queen have gone rogue, and statues of the Hopeslayer have appeared in towns, calling to Isparians to shrug off Asheron's Protection.

In the town of Sawato, near the Blackmire, a terrified mosswart fled some unknown threat. Those who investigated found a massacre, with no hint as to what could have caused such destruction. What new danger lurks just below the surface of the fetid swamp?

[Ziv]

[turbine]

From Turbine:

[thumb=http://www.icelords.com./images/turbine/111.jpg][thumbwide][/thumb] [thumb=http://www.icelords.com./images/turbine/112.jpg][thumbwide][/thumb]

[thumb=http://www.icelords.com./images/turbine/113.jpg][thumbwide][/thumb] [thumb=http://www.icelords.com./images/turbine/114.jpg][thumbwide][/thumb]