Gods Of Cradle: Xipe Totec, the Custodian of History.
Once upon a time, the Empress of the Hives was said to have gazed upon the fields of Cradle. Knights and Workers alike swarming the fields like the fallen insects from before the doom, and it was to this sight that she spoke. "Tell me attendant, what is the history of this land?"
It was to this order, that a young Spawn attendant stepped forward, "I'm sorry my Empress, but i know naught of this land" For it was but a mere Spawn, neither taught nor learned. So it was that the Empress commanded the Spawn. "I have given you two eyes and two hands to contemplate the world, have I not?"
Indeed, for like all the Insects of the Hive, this young one had too been fashioned by her hands and magicks. "So go forth and see all those past stories of the land, and relay them to them, such is the command I give to you."
So it was that the nameless Spawn stepped forward, spurred by its Empress wishes, to survey all the past stories of the land. As ages passed, the cycle of warmth and cold spinning, the Spawn wandered the lands. Within forgotten kingdoms, he observed the ruins and within rotten libraries he read tales which were only remembered within the annals of written lore.
The Kingdom of Olympia, the fabled secrets of Alchemist, of ancient Nine-tailed monsters. All were seen by the Spawn, and upon a rock within his right hand he painted it. Vivid scenes of history. So far he explored, until his eyes could no longer see the present or future at all, but instead could only gaze into the very past itself.
And when the silver sister of Cradle shined upon high, the Spawn returned to the Empress, and spoke. "I have seen the past of this world. Within my eyes, i can see all that once upon a time was." So the Empress spoke, "Tell me of the Past, the mistakes they lead to their ruin, so that we may avoid their mistakes"
Gently, the Spawn showed his right hand, where the rock with colors that moved shined bright giving life to vestiges from his journey. "Look upon the past, for in the ancient days, Kings ruled the land, but not with wisdom. For they were greedy, and sought always to enrich themself instead of their fellow man, thus it was that all the Kingdoms fell to ruin and doom by their own hands, for they fought amongst themself even when the crops withered and failed".
The Empress peered upon all that the Spawn showed her, before nodding. "Thus, one should act with Wisdom, seeking to enlighten themself instead of acting with Greed." So it was that by being shown the past, that the Empress learned from the mistakes that had been made, and ensured to not repeat them like the Greedy kings of old. "Then my Spawn, i want you to tell me of the Present, of what the world is like now".
The Spawn frowned, before speaking up. "I'm sorry my Empress, but I have but two eyes and two hands, and they are dedicated to the Past." For by staring so deeply into what once was, the Spawn's eyes could now only see the past, and not the future or present. "You speak truth my Spawn, come closer then and i shall give you a gift"
And so, with the same powers that created all of the Hive, the Empress fashioned from flesh two new eyes and two new arms for the Spawn. "I've given you two new eyes to look into the present, so go forth and tell me what the present is like".
So, the Spawn stepped forward, into the God-Cities of Cradle. With a Clay tablet in hand, he wrote and saw all that the Order had brought unto the world. The vibrant halls from the city of Honeyed-Milk. The Great temples to the Gods within Gjalfmarr. The Nameless city where each person told a different tale of the city. Of Sakarbaal and it's goods and spices. All the Cities in their glories.
It even ventured to the Four Great Towers, and upon their steps, they heard all that the Philosophers had to say, and with the Clay tablet wrote down all the knowledge of the Order. And After the Sun and Moon had danced around Cradle, the Spawn returned to the Empress. Its eyes now glowing with the promise and certainty of the present, for it's eyes could now stare upon all that existed within the moment, but they couldn't see the past or Future anymore.
So, when Arva upon high shone bright, the Spawn kneeled before it's Empress once more. "I've seen all that the Planet has to offer currently." And so the Empress spoke "Tell me of the Present, what have they done right".
So, the Spawn presented its Clay tablet, where letters moved and shifted, showing all the writing that described all that currently was. "Look upon the present, of what exists in the current day. Wise Philosophers rule the land, seeking to enrich not themself, but the common man. There is an abundance of glory, and nary a soul hungers or suffers under the astute guidance of the Philosophers".
It was to this, that the Empress nodded. "By acting with Wisdom, one can ensure that the Dooms and Greed of the past does not ruin the present. You have told me much of the present. I desire to know of the future, of what the world shall be like."
To this, the Spawn could merely bow in apology. "I'm sorry my Empress, but I have only four eyes, two for the past and and two for the present. I do not have the eyes which can see into the future." So, the Empress beckoned it closer. "You speak the truth, come closer and I shall give you a gift then."
So it was that the Empress once more, fashioned the Spawn two more eyes, atop its head, and above all other eyes, and arms from its back. "I have given you two new eyes to look into the future, and two new hands to grasp it. So go forth and tell me of what shall be."
So, the Spawn stepped forward, and with newborn eyes it stared into the glimpse of the future that lurks at the edge. Seeing not the God-Cities, but instead God-Worlds where every man and woman lived in luxury. Seeing the ruined-Gods where every man and woman scrambled for mere scraps. Of wise men, standing in their tower, the world itself being perfected. Of foolish men, shivering in their towers, a world that was rife with corruption and strife.
And within it's right hand, a scroll was being written, ever expanding, everlasting as the Spawn saw all that shall one day be. There, it wrote of the mundanes of Cavr that descended into a war of Kings. There it wrote of the Brilliant Weaver of Blood that fended off the Black King and it's Pawns. There it wrote of Hvialgar, whom cursed a Tower in their descent to Madness. There it wrote of all that shall be, of Fate in its multiples, for the future was ever-changing, unlike the past and Present. Until finally, the Spawn's eyes could see neither past nor present, only the future.
And then, with the phantom of the Silver moon hanging in the air, the Spawn returned. "I have seen all that shall one day be." Bowing once more, before it's Empress that once more commanded. "Tell me of the future, what brought joy and what brought sorrow."
So, the Spawn presented the Scroll, a mere glimpse, for even to the glorious Empress it was a daunting sight. "When man continues to act with Wisdom, they shall gain paradise and bring perfection unto the World. And yet, if they were to fall back into the habits of the kings, only ruin and desolation awaits, and they shall become a part of the past and cease to be of the present.
The Empress nodded. "You have spoken well and true my Spawn, so i ask of you one last thing. Go forth, and give Wisdom to the men of Cradle, from the Philosopher in their tower, to the Mundanes in the street. Let them know of history and allow them to learn from it, like I have from you."
To This, the Spawn gazed up, before speaking. "I'm sorry my Empress, but I have only six arms and eyes, and man is numerous and I cannot teach them all." So, the Empress waved her hands once more wielding her magicks "Then I shall give you one more Gift."
And from her hands, came Spawn numerous and varied. Spiders to weave silk, worms to dig, Knights to fight and carry. "These shall be your hands, and your eyes shall be the mundanes trained in the art of history like you. So i name you Xipe Totec, the Custodian of History."
Then Xipe Totec descended with it's spawn deep into the depths, where they built forth a Grand city. There it awaits, eager to teach any and all the tales of history, future, present and past. Thus we commit the Story of our Founder God, the Great Xipe Totec.
—
Xipe Totec, the Custodian of History.
Xipe Totec is the God of History and the Face of the Maze God-City. Often carved as a six armed Hive Knight, Xipe Totec have six eyes. The lowest which will always look into the past, the middle to see all that the present is, and the highest to survey all that shall one day be.
Like the eyes, Xipe Totec's arm is said to be from the past, present and future. The lowest arm carries a rock, painting in brilliant color. For this is how men of the past engraved their history, upon rock and within caves. It's said that anything that once was, have been painted upon this rock, and by staring at it, it shall show you the past as vivid as if you were there.
The middle arm carries a Clay tablet, engraved with all that is written within the present. For the men of now, write upon Clay. If a person desires to know anything about the World as it is, the Clay Tablet of Xipe Totec will carry all the knowledge in the world.
And then, upon the highest arm, it carries a scroll of papyrus, for that is the tool of the future. Like a scroll, if one were to unfold it, one would quickly find out that it would never stop to roll. For upon the papyrus scroll, all that shall be is written is carved, and thus it's a maddening ever-shifting scroll. For the future has untold myriad of paths. Yet, if one were to inquire, it's said that Xipe Totec will whisper what shall bring you failure, and what shall bring you utopia, so you may learn from the history of the future.
Xipe Totec is shaped like the Hive Insects, though with a more regal bearing, and dressed in a royal blue cloak. The liberian spawn-assistant, often mimicking their God-Cities coloring and all shine with their brilliant blue. The City itself, though underground, has stars painted within the ceiling, and their names painstakingly carved on the side, so that even the stars themself may be written down and taught.
From within its maze-like God-City, Xipe Totec teaches any and all. It's temples are dedicated vast libraries, and its Priest historians. To make offerings to Xipe Totec, is to write history, and it's followers write of their life, day to day, and once a year, when Arva is said to shine the brightest in religious ceremony. There, they are preserved within the Grand Library halls of Xipe Totec, so that future people may read them, and learn how men of the past thought and lived.
The Priests of Xipe Totec are often blessed with a mind that can never forget, and will often seek to be involved within any projects and explorations. So that they can write down whatever may happen, and they will often protect their texts with their life, being willing to die so that people may read from them. Such is their love and dedication to history, and only the most devoted may ascend to become Xipe Totec's entrusted hands.
With great expeditions, members of the Maze-City are sent out to explore ancient ruins. Xipe Totec demands great precision, like the Sundial Tower from its followers in this. The Tales of the past must be told exactly as they were, and any that tries to meddle like the King's of old, will face the God-City's anger. Xipe Totec followers must write down all, be it forbidden or not as it was. So that it may be entrusted to the God-Cities libraries.
Though, perhaps not unwisely, though willing to teach any that approaches it, it does not always give out knowledge freely. For some texts, the ones containing forbidden information are said to be in the deepest part of the Maze, where the hallways twists and turns and only the guidance of Xipe Totec themself can lead one safely. Here, only Philosophers and the most trusted of Priests are given permission to step within the inner chambers. Which are maintained solely through the hands of the Spawn, closest in nature to Xipe Totect themself.
This is the God of History. This is the God-City of the Maze. Praise the Custodian of History.
----
AN: So, the Past-Dwellers action inspiried me! So, here's my attempt at the God of the Historian City. Xipe Totec. Was made in the image of the Spawn-Assistants, in looks, and i tried to include both the more subjective "This is the God" look, and an in story, "Tale of our God" story, for both world. I hope it came out well.
It came out very well.
Canon, this is the story Xipe Totec, woven by the Dreaming Architect with treads of Beliefs, Memories and History. Xipe Totec shall guide the hands of those who study the flow of history.
One time, the Order will be spared the direst consequences of foulish devings into the past.
In the ancient realm of Kurigawa, amidst its sprawling landscapes, there roamed a creature of unparalleled grace and majesty known as the Qilin. Legends whispered of its magnificent appearance, with the body of a deer, the scales of a dragon, and the hooves of a horse. Encountering the Qilin was believed to be a rare blessing, promising great fortune and prosperity to those lucky enough to cross its path.
On a momentous day, a humble peasant named Liang found himself lost deep within the Kurigawan wilderness. Weary and disoriented, he stumbled upon a tranquil glade bathed in golden light. And there, standing before him, was the Qilin, its luminous presence illuminating the forest around it.
Liang's eyes widened in awe as he knelt before the magnificent creature. "Oh, noble Qilin," he began, his voice trembling with reverence. "Grant me your guidance, for I am lost and in need of direction."
The Qilin regarded him with eyes as wise as the ages. "Rise, humble traveler," it spoke, its voice resonating like distant thunder. "Speak your heart's desire, and I shall offer you insight."
With gratitude in his heart, Liang rose to his feet. "I seek wisdom and fortune for my people," he confessed. "Show me the path to prosperity, so that I may guide them to a brighter future."
The Qilin nodded solemnly, its gaze penetrating the depths of Liang's soul. "Your intentions are noble, Liang," it replied. "Behold, for I shall grant you a vision of the future."
As Liang watched in awe, the forest around them seemed to shimmer and shift. Images of a wise and noble ruler, the Yellow Emperor, flickered before his eyes. The Qilin spoke of an era of harmony and abundance, where the people of Kurigawa would thrive under his benevolent rule.
Overwhelmed by the vision, Liang bowed his head in gratitude. "Thank you, noble Qilin," he murmured. "I shall carry your blessing with me and share it with my people."
And so, with renewed purpose, Liang returned to his village, his heart brimming with hope. He shared the vision bestowed upon him by the Qilin, inspiring his fellow villagers to await the arrival of the Yellow Emperor with eager anticipation.
Years passed, and true to the Qilin's prophecy, the Yellow Emperor emerged as a beacon of wisdom and righteousness. Under his benevolent rule, Kurigawa flourished, and its people rejoiced in the abundance of blessings bestowed upon them.
And thus, the tale of Liang's blessed encounter with the Qilin became a cherished legend in the annals of Kurigawan history, a testament to the enduring power of fate and the promise of a brighter tomorrow.
In the ancient realm of Kurigawa, amidst its sprawling landscapes, there roamed a creature of unparalleled grace and majesty known as the Qilin. Legends whispered of its magnificent appearance, with the body of a deer, the scales of a dragon, and the hooves of a horse. Encountering the Qilin was believed to be a rare blessing, promising great fortune and prosperity to those lucky enough to cross its path.
On a momentous day, a humble peasant named Liang found himself lost deep within the Kurigawan wilderness. Weary and disoriented, he stumbled upon a tranquil glade bathed in golden light. And there, standing before him, was the Qilin, its luminous presence illuminating the forest around it.
Liang's eyes widened in awe as he knelt before the magnificent creature. "Oh, noble Qilin," he began, his voice trembling with reverence. "Grant me your guidance, for I am lost and in need of direction."
The Qilin regarded him with eyes as wise as the ages. "Rise, humble traveler," it spoke, its voice resonating like distant thunder. "Speak your heart's desire, and I shall offer you insight."
With gratitude in his heart, Liang rose to his feet. "I seek wisdom and fortune for my people," he confessed. "Show me the path to prosperity, so that I may guide them to a brighter future."
The Qilin nodded solemnly, its gaze penetrating the depths of Liang's soul. "Your intentions are noble, Liang," it replied. "Behold, for I shall grant you a vision of the future."
As Liang watched in awe, the forest around them seemed to shimmer and shift. Images of a wise and noble ruler, the Yellow Emperor, flickered before his eyes. The Qilin spoke of an era of harmony and abundance, where the people of Kurigawa would thrive under his benevolent rule.
Overwhelmed by the vision, Liang bowed his head in gratitude. "Thank you, noble Qilin," he murmured. "I shall carry your blessing with me and share it with my people."
And so, with renewed purpose, Liang returned to his village, his heart brimming with hope. He shared the vision bestowed upon him by the Qilin, inspiring his fellow villagers to await the arrival of the Yellow Emperor with eager anticipation.
Years passed, and true to the Qilin's prophecy, the Yellow Emperor emerged as a beacon of wisdom and righteousness. Under his benevolent rule, Kurigawa flourished, and its people rejoiced in the abundance of blessings bestowed upon them.
And thus, the tale of Liang's blessed encounter with the Qilin became a cherished legend in the annals of Kurigawan history, a testament to the enduring power of fate and the promise of a brighter tomorrow.
Nice Please roll 1d3
1 : Entropy
2 : History
3 : Restoration
As a reminder of earlier tales, there is a tree of wisdom still hidden somewhere on Cradle, and the wise know that even great, sealed evil and the works of legendary Kings will be reduced to dust in time.
After making her two years journey through the void between Cradle, third before Prim the Sun, and Dert, fourth before Prim, Citalee reached the frozen planet, airless orb covered in a deep mantle of ice.
2 years? From 3rd planet to 4th planet?
Yeah, the God-Fortress are really slow. Maybe we need to look into how to make them move faster...
And Dert seem to be Europa-like world heh. That's cool.
Lever, Omen of Life : One day, there will be life on Dert, as impossible as it seems. Lever usable for a Working bringing life in any form to Dert. This life will be in some way impossible, from the harsh conditions and lack of Fate of Dert.
Hmmmm, but if the life are eventually going to happens, would that not be the same as fated? Not the same kind as fate bond to light, but fated nonetheless?
...Does this mean there is a time limit to how long we can investigate the Eye? But it does seem like we are running out of things to do with them anyway.
...Consider how microcosm seem to an arc word of this update, I wonder what the change for this particular microcosm would mean, for us and for history.
In each Cities, small, idealized worlds are being built, for all intents and purposes, at least to the Mundanes sensibilities.
There are risks in this, that the Mundanes forget the world beyond their own little earthly paradise, and take for granted the work of Gods and Spawns that sustain them.
But there are also great opportunities. The small reflect the great, Microcosm the Macrocosm…What could we do if the God-Cities became God-Worlds ?
Thankfully, we have time before this comes to be, for now the Mundane are only seeking the best conditions possible, according to their customs and beliefs.
But the change will come.
Lever Triggered : To each their Paradises
In time, with the power of the God-Cities and the Spaws, small, ideal worlds will be created upon Cradle.
On one hand, hurrah to even greater post-scarcity.
On the other hand, it's effect on society are concerning to say the least.
Perhaps we should be a bit more attentive of the Mundanes society next cycle?
We should probaly have a bigger project for the next cycle as well, which isn't a 1 or two of AP actions, but we also don't want anything as demanding as the Path of Elements we just did, since that did take up a lot of time, and we've unlocked so many new projects. So, Tower to the Stars. As i've been saying, i want to make this having a part from every single part of Cradle, one AP from each tower, a MAP from the mundanes to represent this.
I mean, if we talk about megaproject, can we please do Glorious Sharing of Wisdom?
We already focus on the Cradle this cycle, I think it would make sense to turn focus toward the Mundanes.
Other than the benefit of more educated Mundaes, universal education might be the key to make sure the Mundanes do not become self-absorbed by force them to interact with outside world when they still young rather than being raise in whatever insular communities they are now.
...Let's hope we will not accidentally destroy individual cultural identity in the process.
Also, I have a feeling the AP cost of Tower to the Star might be reduced later. For example, I think knowledge of gravity from Of Weight and Attraction might be helpful in building a bronze-age space elavator.
Oh, I really love this! It tie really neatly the 2 Past-Delvers actions we took. Having a Spawn-attendance become god of history is also a really creative idea. I
2 years? From 3rd planet to 4th planet?
Yeah, the God-Fortress are really slow. Maybe we need to look into how to make them move faster...
And Dert seem to be Europa-like world heh. That's cool.
Hmmmm, but if the life are eventually going to happens, would that not be the same as fated? Not the same kind as fate bond to light, but fated nonetheless?
...Does this mean there is a time limit to how long we can investigate the Eye? But it does seem like we are running out of things to do with them anyway.
...Consider how microcosm seem to an arc word of this update, I wonder what the change for this particular microcosm would mean, for us and for history.
On one hand, hurrah to even greater post-scarcity.
On the other hand, it's effect on society are concerning to say the least.
Perhaps we should be a bit more attentive of the Mundanes society next cycle?
I mean, if we talk about megaproject, can we please do Glorious Sharing of Wisdom?
We already focus on the Cradle this cycle, I think it would make sense to turn focus toward the Mundanes.
Other than the benefit of more educated Mundaes, universal education might be the key to make sure the Mundanes do not become self-absorbed by force them to interact with outside world when they still young rather than being raise in whatever insular communities they are now.
...Let's hope we will not accidentally destroy individual cultural identity in the process.
Also, I have a feeling the AP cost of Tower to the Star might be reduced later. For example, I think knowledge of gravity from Of Weight and Attraction might be helpful in building a bronze-age space elavator.
Oh, I really love this! It tie really neatly the 2 Past-Delvers actions we took. Having a Spawn-attendance become god of history is also a really creative idea. I
The Lever for Dert is interesting, because it means any colonizing attempts would trigger it, if i've understood it correctly. My current ideas for it, is to do the Sow the sea's action, and see what that unlocks us, as a potential jumping both from sow the sea/Make Flesh harder action. Dert isn't a traditional food planet, but if we sow the entire sea with tons of fish for the rest of the system? Could become a food producing powerhouse as an quick idea.
As for the Glorious Sharing of Wisdom. It has the mundane tag, and since we got a lot less actual critical mundane projects, it's a lot easier to fit into plan. So, us doing that next cycle isn't that impossible! The Star Tower does admitetly also have the mundane tag, but i do feel like investing more AP instead of MAP is going to give us differnet results.
My biggest thoughts, is the degree to which Glorious Sharing is helpfull? I'm afraid that by exploding guild-member ship we might inadvertently suffocate future guilds we build, like a potential Alchemist guild. That being said, building it over two or three turns, given our higher MAP points, shouldn't be too hard. It's probaly fine if we make the Dreaming Architect oversee it, since that is their field of expertise. If i've understood it more or less, i'll admit the Architect is the hero whom i got the least grasp on.
As for omakes! Yeah yeah! Personally i always try to tie the omake back into actions we've done, or other omakes. Feels like it ends up being better connected to the overall story. Which did lead to Xipe Totec being a Spawn Attendant that became a God. We did the mundane historians and changed Spawns, so i essentially combinded those. Ends up feelings a lot more like a part of the City, and something the Philosphers would weave together in story.
It should be noted, that Citalee is Goddess of air, right? And one of my main arguments was that it would made her faster. And the air combinded with the ice so that Citalee shoots mist as her propellant.
Except, the Order didn't even know about what gravity was. If we didn't pick a mobility option, it may very well been that the God-Fortress wouldn't be able to move, since no other traits of Citalee speaks about how she can move, except for her mist traits.
Citalee is fast for God-fortresses. I think any follow God-Fortess we have to make for the short-future needs to be of the ice-comets with one of the domain being dedicated to something like air. Which would allow it to move, untill the Order understands how to make a God-fortress move without a domain. Assuming that's even possible for us.
Also, i think us being slow is going to be a general trait for our space units. We'll probably need something like the pillars between planets in order to have faster travels
The Lever for Dert is interesting, because it means any colonizing attempts would trigger it, if i've understood it correctly. My current ideas for it, is to do the Sow the sea's action, and see what that unlocks us, as a potential jumping both from sow the sea/Make Flesh harder action. Dert isn't a traditional food planet, but if we sow the entire sea with tons of fish for the rest of the system? Could become a food producing powerhouse as an quick idea.
I mean, the text of lever say that life born from it "will be in some way impossible, from the harsh conditions and lack of Fate of Dert."
Not that I think using this for food would be worthless or won't be cool in it's own way, but I think it might underutilize the potential of impossible life a little bit.
Well, for the future the trick is that Entropy can't really be beaten, but it can be displaced. As long as entropy is increased in the whole galaxy you can be locally anti-entropic.
Maybe? We are playing on different rules then the "Path of Science" here so to speak. What may count as degradation as far as the Order is concerned might be totally different then the rest of the galaxy. We are the spark amongst Steel after all.
Tales from the Loom: Aralu, Transmuter-of-Weakness.
—-
Aralu was born a sickly child. Cursed by the Doom from afar, and perhaps simply a life that wasn't meant to be. To perish, was the expected outcome, such was whispered by older women and gruff men in the streets and bars. After all, this is how it had always been on Cradle, one of many lesser ills of life.
And yet…The world was quite different from what it had been generations ago, man had not know starvation in years, but instead had plenty to share and partake in. Houses were not rotten wooden shacks, scavenged and built with the hands that knew neither skill nor care. Stone engraved with blessings to the Gods, enshrined and sanctified by the guilds and priests alike, following the lessons of the Philosophers that had passed down in glimmers.
So it was, that Aralu, a child that should have died had the world been but a few years younger, survived. Because her Father through begging and hard work found herbs in the dirt of the fields overseen by the Order. For there were caretakers to help, for man worked for contentment and not survival in these days. Because the Gods ensured that the ill and grime of the distant Doom would not intrude upon the home of it's people.
Sickly, wrecked with a cough that never truly left, but surviving. Such was that the new world that they lived in now, even if people still whispered, raised upon old traditions and stories where sometimes survival demanded hard choices.
—-
It was as a young child, when Aralu meet the first teacher in her life. A man with a haggard looking gray beard, and a long strip of cloth over the left eye, it did not present a prom or elegant looking man. It had been a meeting of pure coincidence, though in later years she would wonder if Fate had played a Hand. Aralu had been looking out at the God-City, nestled atop one of the minor houses, where people would often stare across the vast landscape of the city, the spring giving life to plants and greenery, as they blossomed out in whatever space they could find room in.
It brought comfort to her, for consuming the plants her Father often procured for her was a bitter task. An unpleasant tinge and burning of the throat, for all that they gave life to her body. But as she was about to partake, in what had become a daily ritual for her. A ritual performed throughout her whole life a voice spoke up "What are you doing child?". Brutal and harsh it would have turned most people off and perhaps even scared them away. However Aralu, used to eyes that often judged before she could speak, looked over her shoulder at the man. Old, and gray with a edge to his body, his singular eye nevertheless shone with a kind of compassion that might not been called true kindness but something that lurked at the edge of it.
"It's my medicine, sir" She replied, already preparing herself for the questions to come. After all, to consume medicine without being sick was often derided as a waste, given their scarcity and precious value within the cities. So, someone like her, was all too often a curiosity for the people.. The man grunted as he stepped forward. "You call this medicine? This seems more likely to make someone ill than what not" and with surprisingly gentle motions, he took the herbs from her hands, as a mortar was placed in front of the two, old with cracks in the stone, but smooth from what must have been years of use.
"Listen, just eating the damn things won't be doing that much, you need to actually refine them" As he took out a pestle. "By crushing them, you can ensure that the pollutants from the earth are destroyed" as he started to wedge the herbs between the two stone tools. "People have grown far too reliant on the Spawns, not even remembering the old tales" The man grumbled. As Aralu curious, peaked across his forearms, staring at the motions. "Now, the different herbs-"
It was her first teacher. A surprisingly gentle man, hidden underneath a rough exterior. Beneath his gaze, she learned the art of mixing, on how water and crushed medicine could give form to Elixirs. Bitter still, but even she could feel the ease in which breathing became a lighter burden in the days to come. The man would die later that spring, but with a smile on a face that hadn't borne it in years. And a brief comment on even if he'd failed in his tests, at least the time spent learning hadn't been utterly wasted.
So it was that Aralu, the cursed and sick child grew stronger drinking elixirs that fended off the corruption plaguing her body..
—
Her second teacher was a woman dressed in perfectly cut leather garbs with an sharp eye for critique. They would meet on the dawn of summer, when the sun rose up to greet Cradle and her people. Sitting atop a roof, the distant taste of salt and brine from the ocean atop her tongue, she had been crushing and mixing herbs as the old man had once taught her. When a voice, had spoken up "What are you doing?".
As she turned, she would squeak. The form of the Precise almost impossible to miss, in the unnerving way they moved, as if motions itself was something to be scoffed at and reduced to a minimum. Precise ven down to their very body. Nervous, for men and women like this were deserving of respect she replied "I'm..I'm making Elixirs"
The woman would hum, as she turned to stare at the mortar before speaking up "Mistakes can be forgiven given your age child, but this is far too sloppy even considering that" And as she spoke, she sat down leaning over Aralu's shoulder "When things are not cut precise, they lose their spirit. And things without spirit are far weaker, like a City without its people".
Taking the pestle from her, the woman continued "However, things crushed to perfection, as only the Philosophers can truly do are empowered, their spirit infusing a smaller object, instead of leaking out. We mundanes may only reach up a fraction of that, but it shall suffice for now" And with exact, repeating motions the woman started to crush the herbs, a time-consuming struggle for Aralu on most days. But underneath the Precise's gaze, it crumbled within seconds, skill mastering the task with ease.. "Honestly, the mundane council really needs to make those schools they've been talking about. These kinds of mistakes weaken the whole of Cradle with their imperfection, if we keep allowing our children to not understand how to be precise."
And from the woman, Aralu would learn the minor things, lesser arts of what Philosophers had given unto the mundane. On how to cut things to an exact, on how to ensure that the crushing pestle did not make the life-giving spirit in the plants to vanish. So it was, that her elixirs, bitter, did not contain bits of herbs that had not been given proper care. Smoothly crushed grains and turned into proper liquid, so her body, sick and weak, could more easily accept it. Lessons departed, to the extent that she was allowed too, the woman would eventually vanish, leaving only questions of whom she had been.
–
It was in the autumn, when the leaves were turning red and the streets were covered in them, that Aralu met her third teacher. A voice with dulcet tones, and the sounds of birds singing in the echo of her laughter and a grin that never seemed to stop. Beneath a tree, with precise motions and mixing Aralu would sit, the guidance of her earlier teachers guiding her hand even if they weren't with her, when a voice would speak up. "What'cha doing girl?"
Blinking, she would gaze up, for in the tree a woman would sit, her hair tangled like a bird's nest, with beautiful vibrant songbirds atop her shoulder. Like the birds they cared for, the Shining shepherds were often beautiful, with voices that could soothe both foul manners and anger alike. "I'm making elixirs, with precision miss" She would reply, awestruck by the beauty of the woman.
With a burst of laughter, the woman would shoot out of the tree, spinning motions that would have surely sent her previous teacher into a fit of complaints over its wasted movements, yet undeniably so elegant, The shepherd would land. "So i can see, yet how is it that your making them?" She would question, a curious tone layered across her voice. "For I see the herbs at your disposal, but the way you're using them is such a waste" Even accusing, she sounded cheerful.
And with a clap, the shepherd would sit down her legs crossed, even as birds landed atop her, their eyes flickering everywhere. "I do not know whom taught you earlier my friend, but they forgot to mention something it seems. For you see all of nature has its secrets" she leaned forward, as if sharing a secret between the two of them "You need only listen and feel what mother Cradle is speaking"
With a click of her mouth, melodic even in it's simple nature, the birds sprang to life, as they crowded around the Aralu. Peaking at the girl before finally grabbing a blue colored flower from the pouch of the Shepherd, and dancing to the front of the Shepherd. "You've been using the red flowers from the silver mountains so far have you not?" She questioned, though with such certainty, that it clear the Shepard knew.
She smiled, "But you see, the birds" as she lifted up a finger, and a songbird landing on it "Tell a different story, that for you, these blue flowers are far better suited" As she placed the blue flower into the mortar, a waiting glance at Aralu, whom slowly, then more confidently started to crush the plant. "Now come, listen to nature, for it knows plants and people far better than both you and me" The shepard would sing-laugh to Aralu.
And from the woman, Aralu would learn that plants were not made alike, some cured the cough that plagued old men better, some calmed the breaths of men that had been wounded, while others were not suited at all. She needed to only listen to the voice of the plants, after all. They were eager to share what they knew to all, if only they knew how to listen properly.
So it was that Aralu would taste the elixirs, sweet and nice, made with precise motion and mixed like her teachers had told her. Though the sickness clinged on, for the first time, Aralu felt like she could truly breathe the air of Cradle.
—
It was on the eve of winter, that Aralu would meet her last teacher, in the dusk, when the sun was giving its farewell, and Cradle's silver-clad sister was rising to greet her. Beside one of the smaller ponds in the God-City, the surface softly rippling with reflections from the moon. Dressed in robes, and a face hidden underneath a wooden mask crafted with elegant and loving craftsmanship they would come out of the shadows, greeting Aralu whom had been crafting her potions. "Hello child". Soft, and gently was their voice, yet so lacking in both masculine and feminine qualities, as if they had been fused together, leaving only harmony.
Startled, Aralu would look up, as the Keeper of Harmony, for what else could they be sat down in front of her. There they would inspect her work, the moon's light almost cradling around the Keeper as they spoke "Elegantly made, you are truly a talented one" There was however, a slight frown in their voice. "But, it seems like you do not fully understand. How only that which works in consort and harmony may perform to its best '' Despite the gentle chidding, they spoke with such softness, that Aralu knew instinctively this was someone that would understand and listen.
The Keeper's hand reached out into the pond, water gathering in the palm of their hand. "Everything the Order builds, works because they ensure it's essence is kept as one." As they pulled up their hand from the pond, the water drifted in small droplets from their hands back into the pond. "Like the City's and its people, you must learn how to make your elixirs work in harmony, if you truly wish for them to reach perfection".
They tilted their hand, as the water ran into the mortar with not a single droplet spilled to the side. "The God-City ensures that it's water are kept pure, free of that which may harm it's inhabitants", as they reached out with the other hand, putting it atop Aralu's. "In return, the people work to keep the City clean, by cleaning its street, and maintaining its temples". There was the distinct impression of a smile, across the keeper's face, even hidden by the mask as it was. "So, it is in that in harmony both parties reach a higher state, then what a person may accomplish alone".
"Two in harmony, surpass the one that singular strong" They spoke, as they grabbed her plants, and then whispered "So my child, listen and watch. These may be lesser herbs, but like men we shall make them work in tandem, so they may be greater than even the Nectar Gods were said to extract from the tree of golden apples."
And there, with only Arva and the City as their witness, Aralu learned the lesser arts of Harmony. And so it was, that for the first time in her life, she would taste an elixir made to perfection, cut with precise movements, plants that whispered what was best, and blending together as if they had always meant to become this elixir.
—
It was on the last day of the year, when winter was at its final days that Aralu would meet her Master. From the Living Tower he came, The Mixer of Truths as was the name he had earned by right. For a letter given by an old failed student, he came.. For a report given by a mundane, practiced in the art of precision, he came.. For the songs of the bird, singing of a bright new star that was rising, he came. And the whispers from the masked keepers that kept society in harmony, he came.
With exact steps he would walk through the city, lesser men parting before him, until he reached the higher parts of the city. And there, sitting underneath a tree and beside a pond, the Mixer of Truths would find a girl. Ill and sick with flesh that should have been wholly unsuited for any Philosophical art. Yet, the Mixer of Truth was a man that gave credence to the art of Potions, and with senses far beyond human ones, he could sense the unmistakable aroma of Elixir's drafting of her.
So it was that Mixer of Truth, potioneer, decided to take a chance, spurred by all that ensured he came here. For was this not what his faction believed? That given proper substance, even frail mundane flesh may become Philosophical flesh. And to the girl "You are to refine this into a medicine" He spoke. It was a command, not a request, even as the girl would flinch in surprise, for his movements had caused nary a sound, a part of nature as he was.
From red ample robes, he pulled out a red flower with sharp thorns that would pierce the flesh of weaker creatures, and was given over to the girl. Spooked, the girl bowed her head, even as she grabbed the plant, for to disobey a Philosopher was surely the dumbest thing a person could do.
But as she studied the plant, listened to it's voice, as the Shining Shepherd had once taught her, she would hesitate. "This…This is poisonous" She would reply, haltingly and unsure. Mixer of Truth would stare, a glint of surprise in his eyes. To understand it so quickly. He had expected something like it, given the songs of the bird, but the speed at which the girl understood was surprising. He nodded, "It is indeed poisoned, for this was a lesser test child".
There were many tests the Living Tower gave unto its apprentices. One was a task veiled in lies, "Make medicine out of this" given a poisonous plant. Many apprentices would not, did not listen nor understand the plants which they worked with, forming a potion that would surely doom the life of any foolish enough to drink it. For someone, not trained by any Philosopher to understand, and pass even this lesser test was impressive. She may been frail, but even as an lesser apprentice to do menial tasks she would serve the order.
Mixer of Truth, opened his mouth, to command her to appear before the living tower to learn, when he stopped. A spark of something…No, of enlightenment within the girl shining strongly, as she took the plant and started intently.. And then, with precise motions started to cut. Thorns were put aside, as the red pedals were sliced into exact copies of each other. Then, water purified by the city was poured, as she scrubbed the pedals with care, subtle impurities being removed. Gently, and ever so slowly the girl worked, as dawn turned to day.
Motionless, the Philosopher would stand and watch, standing still as if he was a statue fashioned from rock. Aralu would mix, and then, taking up the thorns, would softly remove the inside, leaving the outer shell, as she would put the thorn's internals within the mortar. Carefully the girl worked, even as day turned to dusk. Then, the girl stopped, and waited, the wind ruffling through the street's as the two would stand still. For hours neither moved, then, as the Arva reached it's peak, silvery light extending down, the girl would put the hard shell's of the thorn inside, and crush it. After a final push, she spoke "It's done".
A moment passed, before the Mixer of Truth kneeled, as he stared at the mixture. Then "It is indeed done.." A test veiled in lies. The foolish tried to make an elixir but failed to understand they worked with poison, so they made only something fit for the enemies of the Order.. The smarter, understood it was poison, so they declared it was a test that was impossible, succeeding the lesser test. Those that truly understood the test, knew that poison could be turned into medicine. Turn this into medicine was the true test, and one only a precious few would master.
The girl's potion was a failure by the standards of the Living Tower. Rough, and poorly made. Yet…Even in this state it was medicine. A test that even senior apprentices might struggle at. "This was poorly made, you are to meet at the gate of the tallest statue in the city. There you shall take on the nameTransmuter-of-Weakness, for you are to learn by my hand". There were many tests within the Living Tower. And this was but one of the many, but like the potions he would refine this girl into a true Philosopher.. He would ensure that this spark of enlightenment wasn't lost to the Order. This was what those of the gardens and halls of healers did not understand. That with potions even frail and sickly flesh could be turned into a true Philosophical one. This girl would serve as his proof. That the right path forward was to teach the lesser mundanes the art of Alchemy. So that more like her, may be granted the spark of Philosophy..
So it was that Aralu became Transmuter-of-Weakness, Child of prosperity, and Master of Potions. Bound to the Living Tower and the faction of Potiooners, ever seeking greater understanding and Elixirs.
----
AN: So, is my attempt at a Living Tower hero! I hope it was enjoyable to read. For Aralu, i tried to make one tied into the current factions of the Living Tower, so she's very much a Potiooner. In part, she's a kind of person that would never have become a Philospher under the Old bloodscripes of the Tower. Born with frail flesh, but since Potioneer seeks to refine and master flesh, Aralu is in many ways the embodiment of what they want. Someone that should have had a weak spirit, granted strong one, because she's been consuming medicine her whole life. At least, that's how Mixer of Truth is looking at it.
The test also felt like the sort of thing the Philospher would do. "Make medicine out of this", with it being poisonous plant, so the obvious solution is that, it's a fake test where the real test is actually sussing out that part. Which they go "You did it, you got the lesser test", while the actual proper part of the test is just making medicine. Meaning it's straightforward but also not.
She's also, a child of prosperity, because mundanes know so much more now, it's a part of their society, and they have acess to fields planted with both herbs, spices and foods. She's kind of child that would have died in a previous era. I tried to make her, a reflection of the changing times. I think, this is a pattern that would hold true for many of the newer member of the Order.
Also, i'm terrible at Philosphy names, so if someone's got something better, feel free to suggest it.
Aralu was born a sickly child. Cursed by the Doom from afar, and perhaps simply a life that wasn't meant to be. To perish, was the expected outcome, such was whispered by older women and gruff men in the streets and bars. After all, this is how it had always been on Cradle, one of many lesser ills of life.
And yet…The world was quite different from what it had been generations ago, man had not know starvation in years, but instead had plenty to share and partake in. Houses were not rotten wooden shacks, scavenged and built with the hands that knew neither skill nor care. Stone engraved with blessings to the Gods, enshrined and sanctified by the guilds and priests alike, following the lessons of the Philosophers that had passed down in glimmers.
So it was, that Aralu, a child that should have died had the world been but a few years younger, survived. Because her Father through begging and hard work found herbs in the dirt of the fields overseen by the Order. For there were caretakers to help, for man worked for contentment and not survival in these days. Because the Gods ensured that the ill and grime of the distant Doom would not intrude upon the home of it's people.
Sickly, wrecked with a cough that never truly left, but surviving. Such was that the new world that they lived in now, even if people still whispered, raised upon old traditions and stories where sometimes survival demanded hard choices.
—-
It was as a young child, when Aralu meet the first teacher in her life. A man with a haggard looking gray beard, and a long strip of cloth over the left eye, it did not present a prom or elegant looking man. It had been a meeting of pure coincidence, though in later years she would wonder if Fate had played a Hand. Aralu had been looking out at the God-City, nestled atop one of the minor houses, where people would often stare across the vast landscape of the city, the spring giving life to plants and greenery, as they blossomed out in whatever space they could find room in.
It brought comfort to her, for consuming the plants her Father often procured for her was a bitter task. An unpleasant tinge and burning of the throat, for all that they gave life to her body. But as she was about to partake, in what had become a daily ritual for her. A ritual performed throughout her whole life a voice spoke up "What are you doing child?". Brutal and harsh it would have turned most people off and perhaps even scared them away. However Aralu, used to eyes that often judged before she could speak, looked over her shoulder at the man. Old, and gray with a edge to his body, his singular eye nevertheless shone with a kind of compassion that might not been called true kindness but something that lurked at the edge of it.
"It's my medicine, sir" She replied, already preparing herself for the questions to come. After all, to consume medicine without being sick was often derided as a waste, given their scarcity and precious value within the cities. So, someone like her, was all too often a curiosity for the people.. The man grunted as he stepped forward. "You call this medicine? This seems more likely to make someone ill than what not" and with surprisingly gentle motions, he took the herbs from her hands, as a mortar was placed in front of the two, old with cracks in the stone, but smooth from what must have been years of use.
"Listen, just eating the damn things won't be doing that much, you need to actually refine them" As he took out a pestle. "By crushing them, you can ensure that the pollutants from the earth are destroyed" as he started to wedge the herbs between the two stone tools. "People have grown far too reliant on the Spawns, not even remembering the old tales" The man grumbled. As Aralu curious, peaked across his forearms, staring at the motions. "Now, the different herbs-"
It was her first teacher. A surprisingly gentle man, hidden underneath a rough exterior. Beneath his gaze, she learned the art of mixing, on how water and crushed medicine could give form to Elixirs. Bitter still, but even she could feel the ease in which breathing became a lighter burden in the days to come. The man would die later that spring, but with a smile on a face that hadn't borne it in years. And a brief comment on even if he'd failed in his tests, at least the time spent learning hadn't been utterly wasted.
So it was that Aralu, the cursed and sick child grew stronger drinking elixirs that fended off the corruption plaguing her body..
—
Her second teacher was a woman dressed in perfectly cut leather garbs with an sharp eye for critique. They would meet on the dawn of summer, when the sun rose up to greet Cradle and her people. Sitting atop a roof, the distant taste of salt and brine from the ocean atop her tongue, she had been crushing and mixing herbs as the old man had once taught her. When a voice, had spoken up "What are you doing?".
As she turned, she would squeak. The form of the Precise almost impossible to miss, in the unnerving way they moved, as if motions itself was something to be scoffed at and reduced to a minimum. Precise ven down to their very body. Nervous, for men and women like this were deserving of respect she replied "I'm..I'm making Elixirs"
The woman would hum, as she turned to stare at the mortar before speaking up "Mistakes can be forgiven given your age child, but this is far too sloppy even considering that" And as she spoke, she sat down leaning over Aralu's shoulder "When things are not cut precise, they lose their spirit. And things without spirit are far weaker, like a City without its people".
Taking the pestle from her, the woman continued "However, things crushed to perfection, as only the Philosophers can truly do are empowered, their spirit infusing a smaller object, instead of leaking out. We mundanes may only reach up a fraction of that, but it shall suffice for now" And with exact, repeating motions the woman started to crush the herbs, a time-consuming struggle for Aralu on most days. But underneath the Precise's gaze, it crumbled within seconds, skill mastering the task with ease.. "Honestly, the mundane council really needs to make those schools they've been talking about. These kinds of mistakes weaken the whole of Cradle with their imperfection, if we keep allowing our children to not understand how to be precise."
And from the woman, Aralu would learn the minor things, lesser arts of what Philosophers had given unto the mundane. On how to cut things to an exact, on how to ensure that the crushing pestle did not make the life-giving spirit in the plants to vanish. So it was, that her elixirs, bitter, did not contain bits of herbs that had not been given proper care. Smoothly crushed grains and turned into proper liquid, so her body, sick and weak, could more easily accept it. Lessons departed, to the extent that she was allowed too, the woman would eventually vanish, leaving only questions of whom she had been.
–
It was in the autumn, when the leaves were turning red and the streets were covered in them, that Aralu met her third teacher. A voice with dulcet tones, and the sounds of birds singing in the echo of her laughter and a grin that never seemed to stop. Beneath a tree, with precise motions and mixing Aralu would sit, the guidance of her earlier teachers guiding her hand even if they weren't with her, when a voice would speak up. "What'cha doing girl?"
Blinking, she would gaze up, for in the tree a woman would sit, her hair tangled like a bird's nest, with beautiful vibrant songbirds atop her shoulder. Like the birds they cared for, the Shining shepherds were often beautiful, with voices that could soothe both foul manners and anger alike. "I'm making elixirs, with precision miss" She would reply, awestruck by the beauty of the woman.
With a burst of laughter, the woman would shoot out of the tree, spinning motions that would have surely sent her previous teacher into a fit of complaints over its wasted movements, yet undeniably so elegant, The shepherd would land. "So i can see, yet how is it that your making them?" She would question, a curious tone layered across her voice. "For I see the herbs at your disposal, but the way you're using them is such a waste" Even accusing, she sounded cheerful.
And with a clap, the shepherd would sit down her legs crossed, even as birds landed atop her, their eyes flickering everywhere. "I do not know whom taught you earlier my friend, but they forgot to mention something it seems. For you see all of nature has its secrets" she leaned forward, as if sharing a secret between the two of them "You need only listen and feel what mother Cradle is speaking"
With a click of her mouth, melodic even in it's simple nature, the birds sprang to life, as they crowded around the Aralu. Peaking at the girl before finally grabbing a blue colored flower from the pouch of the Shepherd, and dancing to the front of the Shepherd. "You've been using the red flowers from the silver mountains so far have you not?" She questioned, though with such certainty, that it clear the Shepard knew.
She smiled, "But you see, the birds" as she lifted up a finger, and a songbird landing on it "Tell a different story, that for you, these blue flowers are far better suited" As she placed the blue flower into the mortar, a waiting glance at Aralu, whom slowly, then more confidently started to crush the plant. "Now come, listen to nature, for it knows plants and people far better than both you and me" The shepard would sing-laugh to Aralu.
And from the woman, Aralu would learn that plants were not made alike, some cured the cough that plagued old men better, some calmed the breaths of men that had been wounded, while others were not suited at all. She needed to only listen to the voice of the plants, after all. They were eager to share what they knew to all, if only they knew how to listen properly.
So it was that Aralu would taste the elixirs, sweet and nice, made with precise motion and mixed like her teachers had told her. Though the sickness clinged on, for the first time, Aralu felt like she could truly breathe the air of Cradle.
—
It was on the eve of winter, that Aralu would meet her last teacher, in the dusk, when the sun was giving its farewell, and Cradle's silver-clad sister was rising to greet her. Beside one of the smaller ponds in the God-City, the surface softly rippling with reflections from the moon. Dressed in robes, and a face hidden underneath a wooden mask crafted with elegant and loving craftsmanship they would come out of the shadows, greeting Aralu whom had been crafting her potions. "Hello child". Soft, and gently was their voice, yet so lacking in both masculine and feminine qualities, as if they had been fused together, leaving only harmony.
Startled, Aralu would look up, as the Keeper of Harmony, for what else could they be sat down in front of her. There they would inspect her work, the moon's light almost cradling around the Keeper as they spoke "Elegantly made, you are truly a talented one" There was however, a slight frown in their voice. "But, it seems like you do not fully understand. How only that which works in consort and harmony may perform to its best '' Despite the gentle chidding, they spoke with such softness, that Aralu knew instinctively this was someone that would understand and listen.
The Keeper's hand reached out into the pond, water gathering in the palm of their hand. "Everything the Order builds, works because they ensure it's essence is kept as one." As they pulled up their hand from the pond, the water drifted in small droplets from their hands back into the pond. "Like the City's and its people, you must learn how to make your elixirs work in harmony, if you truly wish for them to reach perfection".
They tilted their hand, as the water ran into the mortar with not a single droplet spilled to the side. "The God-City ensures that it's water are kept pure, free of that which may harm it's inhabitants", as they reached out with the other hand, putting it atop Aralu's. "In return, the people work to keep the City clean, by cleaning its street, and maintaining its temples". There was the distinct impression of a smile, across the keeper's face, even hidden by the mask as it was. "So, it is in that in harmony both parties reach a higher state, then what a person may accomplish alone".
"Two in harmony, surpass the one that singular strong" They spoke, as they grabbed her plants, and then whispered "So my child, listen and watch. These may be lesser herbs, but like men we shall make them work in tandem, so they may be greater than even the Nectar Gods were said to extract from the tree of golden apples."
And there, with only Arva and the City as their witness, Aralu learned the lesser arts of Harmony. And so it was, that for the first time in her life, she would taste an elixir made to perfection, cut with precise movements, plants that whispered what was best, and blending together as if they had always meant to become this elixir.
—
It was on the last day of the year, when winter was at its final days that Aralu would meet her Master. From the Living Tower he came, The Mixer of Truths as was the name he had earned by right. For a letter given by an old failed student, he came.. For a report given by a mundane, practiced in the art of precision, he came.. For the songs of the bird, singing of a bright new star that was rising, he came. And the whispers from the masked keepers that kept society in harmony, he came.
With exact steps he would walk through the city, lesser men parting before him, until he reached the higher parts of the city. And there, sitting underneath a tree and beside a pond, the Mixer of Truths would find a girl. Ill and sick with flesh that should have been wholly unsuited for any Philosophical art. Yet, the Mixer of Truth was a man that gave credence to the art of Potions, and with senses far beyond human ones, he could sense the unmistakable aroma of Elixir's drafting of her.
So it was that Mixer of Truth, potioneer, decided to take a chance, spurred by all that ensured he came here. For was this not what his faction believed? That given proper substance, even frail mundane flesh may become Philosophical flesh. And to the girl "You are to refine this into a medicine" He spoke. It was a command, not a request, even as the girl would flinch in surprise, for his movements had caused nary a sound, a part of nature as he was.
From red ample robes, he pulled out a red flower with sharp thorns that would pierce the flesh of weaker creatures, and was given over to the girl. Spooked, the girl bowed her head, even as she grabbed the plant, for to disobey a Philosopher was surely the dumbest thing a person could do.
But as she studied the plant, listened to it's voice, as the Shining Shepherd had once taught her, she would hesitate. "This…This is poisonous" She would reply, haltingly and unsure. Mixer of Truth would stare, a glint of surprise in his eyes. To understand it so quickly. He had expected something like it, given the songs of the bird, but the speed at which the girl understood was surprising. He nodded, "It is indeed poisoned, for this was a lesser test child".
There were many tests the Living Tower gave unto its apprentices. One was a task veiled in lies, "Make medicine out of this" given a poisonous plant. Many apprentices would not, did not listen nor understand the plants which they worked with, forming a potion that would surely doom the life of any foolish enough to drink it. For someone, not trained by any Philosopher to understand, and pass even this lesser test was impressive. She may been frail, but even as an lesser apprentice to do menial tasks she would serve the order.
Mixer of Truth, opened his mouth, to command her to appear before the living tower to learn, when he stopped. A spark of something…No, of enlightenment within the girl shining strongly, as she took the plant and started intently.. And then, with precise motions started to cut. Thorns were put aside, as the red pedals were sliced into exact copies of each other. Then, water purified by the city was poured, as she scrubbed the pedals with care, subtle impurities being removed. Gently, and ever so slowly the girl worked, as dawn turned to day.
Motionless, the Philosopher would stand and watch, standing still as if he was a statue fashioned from rock. Aralu would mix, and then, taking up the thorns, would softly remove the inside, leaving the outer shell, as she would put the thorn's internals within the mortar. Carefully the girl worked, even as day turned to dusk. Then, the girl stopped, and waited, the wind ruffling through the street's as the two would stand still. For hours neither moved, then, as the Arva reached it's peak, silvery light extending down, the girl would put the hard shell's of the thorn inside, and crush it. After a final push, she spoke "It's done".
A moment passed, before the Mixer of Truth kneeled, as he stared at the mixture. Then "It is indeed done.." A test veiled in lies. The foolish tried to make an elixir but failed to understand they worked with poison, so they made only something fit for the enemies of the Order.. The smarter, understood it was poison, so they declared it was a test that was impossible, succeeding the lesser test. Those that truly understood the test, knew that poison could be turned into medicine. Turn this into medicine was the true test, and one only a precious few would master.
The girl's potion was a failure by the standards of the Living Tower. Rough, and poorly made. Yet…Even in this state it was medicine. A test that even senior apprentices might struggle at. "This was poorly made, you are to meet at the gate of the tallest statue in the city. There you shall take on the name Elixir blooded, for you are to learn by my hand". There were many tests within the Living Tower. And this was but one of the many, but like the potions he would refine this girl into a true Philosopher.. He would ensure that this spark of enlightenment wasn't lost to the Order. This was what those of the gardens and halls of healers did not understand. That with potions even frail and sickly flesh could be turned into a true Philosophical one. This girl would serve as his proof. That the right path forward was to teach the lesser mundanes the art of Alchemy. So that more like her, may be granted the spark of Philosophy..
So it was that Aralu became Elixir Blooded, Child of prosperity, and Master of Potions. Bound to the Living Tower and the faction of Potiooners, ever seeking greater understanding and Elixirs.
----
AN: So, is my attempt at a Living Tower hero! I hope it was enjoyable to read. For Aralu, i tried to make one tied into the current factions of the Living Tower, so she's very much a Potiooner. In part, she's a kind of person that would never have become a Philospher under the Old bloodscripes of the Tower. Born with frail flesh, but since Potioneer seeks to refine and master flesh, Aralu is in many ways the embodiment of what they want. Someone that should have had a weak spirit, granted strong one, because she's been consuming medicine her whole life. At least, that's how Mixer of Truth is looking at it.
The test also felt like the sort of thing the Philospher would do. "Make medicine out of this", with it being poisonous plant, so the obvious solution is that, it's a fake test where the real test is actually sussing out that part. Which they go "You did it, you got the lesser test", while the actual proper part of the test is just making medicine. Meaning it's straightforward but also not.
She's also, a child of prosperity, because mundanes know so much more now, it's a part of their society, and they have acess to fields planted with both herbs, spices and foods. She's kind of child that would have died in a previous era. I tried to make her, a reflection of the changing times. I think, this is a pattern that would hold true for many of the newer member of the Order.
Also, i'm terrible at Philosphy names, so if someone's got something better, feel free to suggest it.
Canon, and a very good showing of how the Mundane society keeps changing , growing more prosperous and enlightened with each Cycle (I particularly liked how members of the Guilds are both part of everyday life and filled with mystical authority, sharing the place in society of both engineers and priests).
The failed apprentice is a good example of the lesser price of failure for those trying to join the Order (losing an eye is...not that terrible all things considered).
For the Hermetic Name, I would propose Transmuter-of-Weakness or Transumter-of-Ills.
Please roll 1d3, to see in how many turns Aralu will cast her Masterwork and become a Philosopher and come online as a Hero.
As she is distinctively a Potiooner, assigning her to action will almost alway bring with her the inner politics of the Living Tower.
Canon, and a very good showing of how the Mundane society keeps changing , growing more prosperous and enlightened with each Cycle (I particularly liked how members of the Guilds are both part of everyday life and filled with mystical authority, sharing the place in society of both engineers and priests).
The failed apprentice is a good example of the lesser price of failure for those trying to join the Order (losing an eye is...not that terrible all things considered).
For the Hermetic Name, I would propose Transmuter-of-Weakness or Transumter-of-Ills.
Please roll 1d3, to see in how many turns Aralu will cast her Masterwork and become a Philosopher and come online as a Hero.
As she is distinctively a Potiooner, assigning her to action will almost alway bring with her the inner politics of the Living Tower.
Yeah! Was an important part of my the omake for me, showing that society isn't the same as it used to be. What once was just a single court mage in a kingdom, is now spreading and becoming a part of society at large, the people of the guilds being important figures, that were on the verge of replacing a lot of authority many places.
As for the factions, i felt like since it's a part of the current living Tower, that even if it's "messier" it should be included. Even Philosphers aren't above their biases after all.
And yeah, transmuter-Of-Weakness feels a lot more fitting for Aralu, so i'll be changing it to that.
Edit: Well, darn. Maxiumum amount of time. Oh well, we were really lucky with the other hero's timer, so had to come eventually.
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Ancient Tales: The Last Philosopher from the Age of Doom.
Ancient Tales: The Last Philosopher from the Age of Doom.
The Whisper-Of-Stories.
Within the ordained halls of the tower that Thinks, a man stands up. Hidden underneath layers of woven silk from the finest of spawns, and with a wooden mask covered in wear and tear. Yet, nevertheless carved with such symbols and imagery, it would have brought even the hardiest of men to tears.
It is the oldest of all the Philosopher upon Cradle. A corpse that should have been unable to move nor think by the sheer weight of entropy pressing upon them by the universe. With fingers as cold as ice, the Philosopher grips the wall, frost spreading out in beautiful patterns like snowflakes from them.
Behold, The Whisper-of-stories. Behold the greatest master of all that dwells within the Tower that Thinks. The anima contained within him, even enough to push beyond the laws which claim all men in time. And as the Whisper-of-stories open his eyes, reflections of the god-cities, like paint being spilled across his iris, were drawn. And as he took a breath, it was to the past. Ancient days, so very long ago that his mind travelled too.
Yupan considered himself a talented storyteller, who's words left the audience hanging, with grand tales and exciting adventures where people hang onto every word eagerly, awaiting the next. Sure, sometimes people tended to say he…exaggerated a bit, even went as far as to chase him away on particularly bad days, which he considered wooly, unnecessary and brutish of them. They had no respect for his art, and what he told. At least, such had been his own youthful impression of the situation.
He would have probably not amounted to much, told stories and earned a minor living, until age would eventually catch up with him. But, fate had held a different story for him in mind, for one evening, as Yupan sat beside the fireplace, the last person to keep a watch on it, and a wizened old man had come up to him.
"You've got quite the silvery tongue child" The man said, as he sat down in front of him. Dressed in an elaborate robe bellowing a kind of luxury that men like Yupan could have only dreamed of. Enough so that he would have been jealous in most situations, except…That voice in the back of his mind spoke up, warning him.
As a storyteller, there was an important skill to read one's listener. Understand when they are getting bored, when you need to slow down ,and when you need to really start pressing the fire. And it was this fine tuned instinct that stopped the snappy line he had been about to respond with. For there was something about the man, enough so that Yupan would curiously stare at him, listening for now. As the old man continued. "You see, I'm getting quite old in my days, and.." There was a far-away look for a moment. "And i want someone to continue my line, hear the stories i've gathered, and the power behind him".
And well, if nothing else Yupan had figured at the time, it would make for an amusing story later on, of an old fool that thought he was some important mage. With little else at stake, Yupan agreed, what was the worst after all.
For the current Order, his old master would have been considered a quack. Barely having even a glint of enlightenment, and even the mundanes with their quaint little guilds would have been blessed with more knowledge and understanding. It was, in those halcyon days the norm for those that study the arts of the Thrice-Master.
Yet, all things must start small, like seeds planted in the ground, and though the man would never live to see it. His old master would have been the start of a truly grand tale. It was one of the regrets of the Whisper-of-Stories, that his old master wasn't remembered more. But at that time, they rarely had the time to choose what to pass on. He liked to think Auki as had been his masters name, would have been happy with his decision to take in that young fool so long ago.
It had been a harsh summer that year, as Yupan followed behind his master Auki into the village. Behind wooden and clay houses, the villagers stared at them, eyes barely visible as a suspicious air permeated throughout the village. Yupan coughed, as he took a step closer to the master. "Rather hostile here, aren't they".
"Have you heard? Of the famine in the West, they say no matter what they do, nothing will grow".
Auki stopped for a second, a brief glance across the village, before humming slightly. "It didn't use to be like this" The older man spoke, loud but quiet enough that any listener would have had to strain their ears to hear. "Back in my youth, they used to throw festivals for strangers, it was a highly joyous occasion for them. I remember them quite fondly, for the apples they served was the best thing I've ever tasted. Fit enough for a God's table."
"No, it's not a famine, for a great beast stalks the land, a three-eyed bird with blackened feather and red-dripping talons"
"It's been getting rather common…" Yupan replied, as a frown tugged at his lips. His robes dragged ever so slightly closer, as he patted his belt, making sure the copper dagger was still there. People were desperate, enough to even ambush innocent people…He still remembered the first time, in that alleyway, the baptism of blood his blade had gotten that day. "And…The tales they are speaking amongst themself"
"Doom has come upon us! We are all going to die, for the end of the world has come, the three-eyed Bird of Doom shall surely claim our lands and poison our waters!"
A grim look fell upon Auki's face. "A tale told in a single village is a curiosity, nothing of power". He stopped, as he stared down at his apprentice for a moment. "Yet, as a tale is spoken, it gains power and becomes something greater…and this Doom that people speak of." It was spreading, like wildfire in grass, outpacing the two men as they wandered throughout the land.
"The land is poisoned, the beasts are running wild! Our kings squabble like madmen, while our children are starving. There is no salvation, there is no savior! Before this calamity, we shall all be found wanting".
"It is growing quite concerning indeed." Auki started to walk faster. "Come Yupan, we must make haste. My friends and those with a shared interest speak of the same tales spreading even in far-away lands." The two men hurried through the village, the starved and greedy looks of the villagers lingering on them like a scythe about to be swung, and the phantom image of a wretched half-bird flying above.
The old man would never make the journey, fallen to malnourished bandits, and it had been a grieving Yupan with his master's last words, etched upon a tablet that arrived at the destination. To a place, where all men with eagerness for exploration and understanding were gathering. For like him, they sought to understand why this tale of Doom was growing ever larger, like the drums of war itself.
The Whisper-of-Stories had always enjoyed stories, their variation and the laugh which they so often inspired ... .That old story of the bird and the doom…Those he had never liked..
Around a clay mound they were gathered. A bunch of friends with food and beer. For what better foundation for telling a story was there, if not one told around a campfire with friends? There those young fools toasted and hollered, as sat in circles.
"They say that far away, in a tower that can think for itself, there sits ten great masters! The Tower is even a God! With Wisdom and Love she watches over the inhabitants of the Tower. Ever eager to help in their duties"
As one of them spoke, there was laughter. And a gentle smile covered Yupan's face, as he felt one of the others holding him in a grip arm slung over his shoulder, even as he with cheerful mockery, pushed into the man's stomach. Enough to be pushy, but not such that it would hurt him. The ideal image of friends having fun.
"This Tower is surely the greatest and most amazing of all the structures in the world! Where great banners shall be unfolded, and underneath them sits a mass of wise men and women studying these banners of wisdom! They must know all there is in the world! How it works and what brings forth motion!"
Yupan reached down, taking the wooden skewered food, as he bit into it, feeling the warmth of the campfire and food warming his body, even as he started to prepare another skewer to be thrown onto the fire. And in the middle, having acquired a log somewhere to stand atop, the woman telling the tale continued.
"And their masters, what great wisdom they have! It's said that with but a mere whisper they could change the earth and bring forth Gods! For They had the Seat of Enlightenment itself as their Duty! Bringing understanding and wisdom to the people!"
There was more laughter, even as she turned slightly towards Yupan. "Of course, fools like us are as far away as possible from them, after all. Who's heard of a Philosopher called Yupan! No, he must have had a better and more fitting name, isn't that right?!"
There was a cheer as everyone laughed at the thought of an mundane like Yupan being someone as amazing as that. And for a brief moment a look of thoughtful thinking flashed across Yupan's face. "Absolutely! No, a wise Philosopher like that, he must have surely been named something like…The Whisper-of-Stories, the most brilliant story teller in all the lands!"
The fires crackled, as long into the night they continued. Of the Great and Amazing Tower that Think. The Grand ten Founders. All stories start small, and what better way is there to tell stories, if not around a campfire? And yet, if ten such great masters did exist, with legions of followers under their command…Then surely? The Tower that Thinks must have existed as well. After all, that's what the story said.
As the night passed. It was not ten young fools that left that day. But ten Philosophers clad in elaborate robes and hidden underneath masks of stories. Clinging to them, the faintest hint of anima, of a story told, a story that had just started. For a Task awaited them all, and to the ten corners of the Planet they spread.
The Whisper-of-Stories had a duty. To gather men unto a city and forge upon the altar of worship a God, and to recruit followers and Philosophers alike. A tall task for any man, but the Whisper-Of-Stories was far from an ordinary man. He was wise and brilliant after all. And so it was, dressed as if he was an actor from one of the nobles' fancies that he stepped into a village.
There was a certain art to telling stories. It always had to start small, for if it started too grandiose, then it would not be capable of supporting itself and would collapse for none would believe it. So it was, dressed like a man with hope that the Whisper-of-Stories stepped inside the village. He had to look unfeed, but not so much it would make people weary of a starving man. With a hopeful enough glint that people would get curious, but not so much they would think him delusional dreaming impossibilities. Like walking a tightrope across a chasm, he had to be determined yet tired.
But he was a master at this art of presentation, and so it was inevitable that someone would come up to him. An old man, a spear clenched cautiously in his fists. A guardian perhaps, old enough to still fight but not such that if he were to die the village would lose a truly capable person. Their sacrificial lamb, so to speka "Oi, stranger?" Rough, and with words slightly slurred the man spoke, the faint taint of someone that had been drowning their sorrows much lately "What are you doing?"
And in that moment, though he did not show it on the outside, The Whisper-of-Stories smiled. He had the man hooked now, and as a slight grin with eyes of fierce hope was dressed his face, he spoke.
"Oh? Haven't you heard? They say in the east, there is a wise man building a city. Our kings are failing us, but i have faith that a man trained in the art of wisdom is going to know far better how to guide us out of this horrible situation"
He could have sung far higher tales, impressive in scale and length, but that would not have been truly believed. And as he walked through the rest of the village, the old man letting him pass easily enough after he had spoken his piece, he could already hear it. Whispering in his footsteps, the tale being spun and gaining power, as the anima swirled around him.
"Have you heard? In the east, there is a city where a bunch of wise men are leading? I've heard they even know how to grow food in terrible conditions, though it's hard work, it's better than what we currently got here, right?"
As the stories spread, they gain power as more and more people start to believe in them. And as people start to believe, the tales too grow more and more fantastical in nature. Eclipsing far beyond the humble tale he had originally spun in that village. Which was as he had planned, the seed growing into a far and mighty plant watered by belief.
"In the east, there is a city where wise men rule, and it's said that their rivers are blessed by the Gods themself, running clear with water that doesn't taste foul at all! And upon great beasts, they are delivered foods like only nobles and kings can have!"
And from there, it was easy enough to track down those that told the tale with enthusiasm and great flair. To be taken in as apprentices. For the Whisper-of-Stories must surely have many talented and wise students after all. From a single man they grew, until they became more unto an Order!
"To the east, to the east i say! Where Ozcollo resides! To the fountains of water, brought down from the heavens themself! To the abundant fields which even the foul three-eyed bird cannot touch! Where in great homes of stones, men and women can rest comfortable and warm, the bitter cold banished from all! Come unto the East! To the most glorious of all Cities!"
And in great packs, caravans and villages moved, dozens of people spurred on by the tale of the great city, for it must be true, else it wouldn't have been spoken about! Where a great Philosophical master awaited, ready to forge a God most true. Like a man in a desert hearing of an oasis in the distance.
And as the cities were formed, like waves rising from the oceans, a distant Clay mound remembered a story once told by ten fools. Of Ten great Philosophers that created God-Cities, and as this story echoed. It echoed harder and harder. There existed ten great Philosophers now did it not? If that was true, did it not mean that story was true as well. Of a Tower that Thinks?
The world itself blinked, as it stared down a tall and vast tower, stretching far into the heavens. Yes, it must be true. After all, the Tower that Thinks was right before its eyes. A Tale of Ten Founders.
And within that Tower, wizened old hands pushed past a door, light from the outside reaching out. The Whisper-of-Stories stood at the edge, even as he felt the briefest of whispers from the Tower. And so he spoke. "It is time". He was the last one left.
Like a dam bursting free, the anima that clung to him loosened as he let go. Thin threads of power faintly glimmering in the air. "These young children have grown wise now. They no longer need the help of an old man like me. It is time for new stories, told by new mouths to grow and spread" It was the greatest anima wielded by a Philosopher of this era. A tale told by mundane and Philosophers alike. Of the Oldest Master, the last from that bygone age of Doom. There was power and belief in that, enough so that he could have clung to life for an eternity, lasting as long as the Order itself.
"I have grown tired" Hands which had only felt the cold for the last century began to crackle, heat rushing through as he took his first proper breath in what must have been years. "The Whisper-of-Stories shall live on, ever an inspiration to those that would listen to him as their muse, forever bound to the Tower…But, i'm just a fool of a story teller, and i must go on." And with a final step, Yupan the mundane storyteller stepped out. Faintly, beyond the ears of even the keenest man, upon the wind drifting across the Tower that thinks one could hear. "Farewell, i shall watch over your disciples, The Seat of Enlightenment shall not falter under my watch".
In a park in Ozcollo an old man sits, his skin aged and wrinkled with the years. He smiles, gently as he stares out over the city, as children's laughter fill the air. A young child steps up, a curious look in her eye. "Hey? Do you know any stories? I've already heard all the ones my grandfather knows, and i want to hear some new ones!" Behind her, more children draw closer, intrigued by hearing something new.
The old man blinks, before laughing. The children, spooked from the burst, took a step back, before the man chuckling looked up at them. "I know many stories children, which one do you want to hear?" Yet, as he replies, a fond, nostalgic look fell over his eyes. He leaned forward, as if to share a secret. "Actually, do you know any stories? I've told so many in my days."
The girl blinks, before eagerly speaks up "Oh, I've heard that the Singing shepherds have to ride a giant flying dragon as their test" Before another child sputters. "What?! No no, it's not some stupid dragon, but a gigantic wolf!" The girl turns around, outraged as the children descend into an argument about how the story was supposed to be. It was new, one untouched by the hands of Philosophers.
Yupan smiles as he breathes his last.
What a nice dream.
So, here's my take on the omake bounty for Feverish dreams? Mh? What do you mean it's about a totally different topic?! Surely i wouldn't make such a big mistake.
Joking aside, it did start out as attempt on that, but perhaps very fittingly given what ended up being produced, my muse ended up dragging me in a totally different direction. Was based upon the comment by OldShadow on how the last few members from the Age of the First Workings, were of the Tower that think, and basically on the verge of death.
Been a turn or so since that, so wanted to try my hand at the last Philospher from that era passing by, leaving the future to the new students. While, they were suppose to basically be mummies, which is how they clung to life, i flaried it up a bit for the sake of the story. With the Anima of the tale of basically being the oldest Philospher around, letting Yupan punch a bit above his weight.
In a differnet life, i image he wouldn't actually been that special, but like how many stories are, he just happened to be at the right place for the right time, to make a difference. Hope it came out well. My attempt at writing actual Philospher stuff is probaly somewhat bad still, but i hope i'm improving! We're all students of the Tower that thinks in a way, in this thread.
Ancient Tales: The Last Philosopher from the Age of Doom.
The Whisper-Of-Stories.
Within the ordained halls of the tower that Thinks, a man stands up. Hidden underneath layers of woven silk from the finest of spawns, and with a wooden mask covered in wear and tear. Yet, nevertheless carved with such symbols and imagery, it would have brought even the hardiest of men to tears.
It is the oldest of all the Philosopher upon Cradle. A corpse that should have been unable to move nor think by the sheer weight of entropy pressing upon them by the universe. With fingers as cold as ice, the Philosopher grips the wall, frost spreading out in beautiful patterns like snowflakes from them.
Behold, The Whisper-of-stories. Behold the greatest master of all that dwells within the Tower that Thinks. The anima contained within him, even enough to push beyond the laws which claim all men in time. And as the Whisper-of-stories open his eyes, reflections of the god-cities, like paint being spilled across his iris, were drawn. And as he took a breath, it was to the past. Ancient days, so very long ago that his mind travelled too.
Yupan considered himself a talented storyteller, who's words left the audience hanging, with grand tales and exciting adventures where people hang onto every word eagerly, awaiting the next. Sure, sometimes people tended to say he…exaggerated a bit, even went as far as to chase him away on particularly bad days, which he considered wooly, unnecessary and brutish of them. They had no respect for his art, and what he told. At least, such had been his own youthful impression of the situation.
He would have probably not amounted to much, told stories and earned a minor living, until age would eventually catch up with him. But, fate had held a different story for him in mind, for one evening, as Yupan sat beside the fireplace, the last person to keep a watch on it, and a wizened old man had come up to him.
"You've got quite the silvery tongue child" The man said, as he sat down in front of him. Dressed in an elaborate robe bellowing a kind of luxury that men like Yupan could have only dreamed of. Enough so that he would have been jealous in most situations, except…That voice in the back of his mind spoke up, warning him.
As a storyteller, there was an important skill to read one's listener. Understand when they are getting bored, when you need to slow down ,and when you need to really start pressing the fire. And it was this fine tuned instinct that stopped the snappy line he had been about to respond with. For there was something about the man, enough so that Yupan would curiously stare at him, listening for now. As the old man continued. "You see, I'm getting quite old in my days, and.." There was a far-away look for a moment. "And i want someone to continue my line, hear the stories i've gathered, and the power behind him".
And well, if nothing else Yupan had figured at the time, it would make for an amusing story later on, of an old fool that thought he was some important mage. With little else at stake, Yupan agreed, what was the worst after all.
For the current Order, his old master would have been considered a quack. Barely having even a glint of enlightenment, and even the mundanes with their quaint little guilds would have been blessed with more knowledge and understanding. It was, in those halcyon days the norm for those that study the arts of the Thrice-Master.
Yet, all things must start small, like seeds planted in the ground, and though the man would never live to see it. His old master would have been the start of a truly grand tale. It was one of the regrets of the Whisper-of-Stories, that his old master wasn't remembered more. But at that time, they rarely had the time to choose what to pass on. He liked to think Auki as had been his masters name, would have been happy with his decision to take in that young fool so long ago.
It had been a harsh summer that year, as Yupan followed behind his master Auki into the village. Behind wooden and clay houses, the villagers stared at them, eyes barely visible as a suspicious air permeated throughout the village. Yupan coughed, as he took a step closer to the master. "Rather hostile here, aren't they".
"Have you heard? Of the famine in the West, they say no matter what they do, nothing will grow".
Auki stopped for a second, a brief glance across the village, before humming slightly. "It didn't use to be like this" The older man spoke, loud but quiet enough that any listener would have had to strain their ears to hear. "Back in my youth, they used to throw festivals for strangers, it was a highly joyous occasion for them. I remember them quite fondly, for the apples they served was the best thing I've ever tasted. Fit enough for a God's table."
"No, it's not a famine, for a great beast stalks the land, a three-eyed bird with blackened feather and red-dripping talons"
"It's been getting rather common…" Yupan replied, as a frown tugged at his lips. His robes dragged ever so slightly closer, as he patted his belt, making sure the copper dagger was still there. People were desperate, enough to even ambush innocent people…He still remembered the first time, in that alleyway, the baptism of blood his blade had gotten that day. "And…The tales they are speaking amongst themself"
"Doom has come upon us! We are all going to die, for the end of the world has come, the three-eyed Bird of Doom shall surely claim our lands and poison our waters!"
A grim look fell upon Auki's face. "A tale told in a single village is a curiosity, nothing of power". He stopped, as he stared down at his apprentice for a moment. "Yet, as a tale is spoken, it gains power and becomes something greater…and this Doom that people speak of." It was spreading, like wildfire in grass, outpacing the two men as they wandered throughout the land.
"The land is poisoned, the beasts are running wild! Our kings squabble like madmen, while our children are starving. There is no salvation, there is no savior! Before this calamity, we shall all be found wanting".
"It is growing quite concerning indeed." Auki started to walk faster. "Come Yupan, we must make haste. My friends and those with a shared interest speak of the same tales spreading even in far-away lands." The two men hurried through the village, the starved and greedy looks of the villagers lingering on them like a scythe about to be swung, and the phantom image of a wretched half-bird flying above.
The old man would never make the journey, fallen to malnourished bandits, and it had been a grieving Yupan with his master's last words, etched upon a tablet that arrived at the destination. To a place, where all men with eagerness for exploration and understanding were gathering. For like him, they sought to understand why this tale of Doom was growing ever larger, like the drums of war itself.
The Whisper-of-Stories had always enjoyed stories, their variation and the laugh which they so often inspired ... .That old story of the bird and the doom…Those he had never liked..
Around a clay mound they were gathered. A bunch of friends with food and beer. For what better foundation for telling a story was there, if not one told around a campfire with friends? There those young fools toasted and hollered, as sat in circles.
"They say that far away, in a tower that can think for itself, there sits ten great masters! The Tower is even a God! With Wisdom and Love she watches over the inhabitants of the Tower. Ever eager to help in their duties"
As one of them spoke, there was laughter. And a gentle smile covered Yupan's face, as he felt one of the others holding him in a grip arm slung over his shoulder, even as he with cheerful mockery, pushed into the man's stomach. Enough to be pushy, but not such that it would hurt him. The ideal image of friends having fun.
"This Tower is surely the greatest and most amazing of all the structures in the world! Where great banners shall be unfolded, and underneath them sits a mass of wise men and women studying these banners of wisdom! They must know all there is in the world! How it works and what brings forth motion!"
Yupan reached down, taking the wooden skewered food, as he bit into it, feeling the warmth of the campfire and food warming his body, even as he started to prepare another skewer to be thrown onto the fire. And in the middle, having acquired a log somewhere to stand atop, the woman telling the tale continued.
"And their masters, what great wisdom they have! It's said that with but a mere whisper they could change the earth and bring forth Gods! For They had the Seat of Enlightenment itself as their Duty! Bringing understanding and wisdom to the people!"
There was more laughter, even as she turned slightly towards Yupan. "Of course, fools like us are as far away as possible from them, after all. Who's heard of a Philosopher called Yupan! No, he must have had a better and more fitting name, isn't that right?!"
There was a cheer as everyone laughed at the thought of an mundane like Yupan being someone as amazing as that. And for a brief moment a look of thoughtful thinking flashed across Yupan's face. "Absolutely! No, a wise Philosopher like that, he must have surely been named something like…The Whisper-of-Stories, the most brilliant story teller in all the lands!"
The fires crackled, as long into the night they continued. Of the Great and Amazing Tower that Think. The Grand ten Founders. All stories start small, and what better way is there to tell stories, if not around a campfire? And yet, if ten such great masters did exist, with legions of followers under their command…Then surely? The Tower that Thinks must have existed as well. After all, that's what the story said.
As the night passed. It was not ten young fools that left that day. But ten Philosophers clad in elaborate robes and hidden underneath masks of stories. Clinging to them, the faintest hint of anima, of a story told, a story that had just started. For a Task awaited them all, and to the ten corners of the Planet they spread.
The Whisper-of-Stories had a duty. To gather men unto a city and forge upon the altar of worship a God, and to recruit followers and Philosophers alike. A tall task for any man, but the Whisper-Of-Stories was far from an ordinary man. He was wise and brilliant after all. And so it was, dressed as if he was an actor from one of the nobles' fancies that he stepped into a village.
There was a certain art to telling stories. It always had to start small, for if it started too grandiose, then it would not be capable of supporting itself and would collapse for none would believe it. So it was, dressed like a man with hope that the Whisper-of-Stories stepped inside the village. He had to look unfeed, but not so much it would make people weary of a starving man. With a hopeful enough glint that people would get curious, but not so much they would think him delusional dreaming impossibilities. Like walking a tightrope across a chasm, he had to be determined yet tired.
But he was a master at this art of presentation, and so it was inevitable that someone would come up to him. An old man, a spear clenched cautiously in his fists. A guardian perhaps, old enough to still fight but not such that if he were to die the village would lose a truly capable person. Their sacrificial lamb, so to speka "Oi, stranger?" Rough, and with words slightly slurred the man spoke, the faint taint of someone that had been drowning their sorrows much lately "What are you doing?"
And in that moment, though he did not show it on the outside, The Whisper-of-Stories smiled. He had the man hooked now, and as a slight grin with eyes of fierce hope was dressed his face, he spoke.
"Oh? Haven't you heard? They say in the east, there is a wise man building a city. Our kings are failing us, but i have faith that a man trained in the art of wisdom is going to know far better how to guide us out of this horrible situation"
He could have sung far higher tales, impressive in scale and length, but that would not have been truly believed. And as he walked through the rest of the village, the old man letting him pass easily enough after he had spoken his piece, he could already hear it. Whispering in his footsteps, the tale being spun and gaining power, as the anima swirled around him.
"Have you heard? In the east, there is a city where a bunch of wise men are leading? I've heard they even know how to grow food in terrible conditions, though it's hard work, it's better than what we currently got here, right?"
As the stories spread, they gain power as more and more people start to believe in them. And as people start to believe, the tales too grow more and more fantastical in nature. Eclipsing far beyond the humble tale he had originally spun in that village. Which was as he had planned, the seed growing into a far and mighty plant watered by belief.
"In the east, there is a city where wise men rule, and it's said that their rivers are blessed by the Gods themself, running clear with water that doesn't taste foul at all! And upon great beasts, they are delivered foods like only nobles and kings can have!"
And from there, it was easy enough to track down those that told the tale with enthusiasm and great flair. To be taken in as apprentices. For the Whisper-of-Stories must surely have many talented and wise students after all. From a single man they grew, until they became more unto an Order!
"To the east, to the east i say! Where Ozcollo resides! To the fountains of water, brought down from the heavens themself! To the abundant fields which even the foul three-eyed bird cannot touch! Where in great homes of stones, men and women can rest comfortable and warm, the bitter cold banished from all! Come unto the East! To the most glorious of all Cities!"
And in great packs, caravans and villages moved, dozens of people spurred on by the tale of the great city, for it must be true, else it wouldn't have been spoken about! Where a great Philosophical master awaited, ready to forge a God most true. Like a man in a desert hearing of an oasis in the distance.
And as the cities were formed, like waves rising from the oceans, a distant Clay mound remembered a story once told by ten fools. Of Ten great Philosophers that created God-Cities, and as this story echoed. It echoed harder and harder. There existed ten great Philosophers now did it not? If that was true, did it not mean that story was true as well. Of a Tower that Thinks?
The world itself blinked, as it stared down a tall and vast tower, stretching far into the heavens. Yes, it must be true. After all, the Tower that Thinks was right before its eyes. A Tale of Ten Founders.
And within that Tower, wizened old hands pushed past a door, light from the outside reaching out. The Whisper-of-Stories stood at the edge, even as he felt the briefest of whispers from the Tower. And so he spoke. "It is time". He was the last one left.
Like a dam bursting free, the anima that clung to him loosened as he let go. Thin threads of power faintly glimmering in the air. "These young children have grown wise now. They no longer need the help of an old man like me. It is time for new stories, told by new mouths to grow and spread" It was the greatest anima wielded by a Philosopher of this era. A tale told by mundane and Philosophers alike. Of the Oldest Master, the last from that bygone age of Doom. There was power and belief in that, enough so that he could have clung to life for an eternity, lasting as long as the Order itself.
"I have grown tired" Hands which had only felt the cold for the last century began to crackle, heat rushing through as he took his first proper breath in what must have been years. "The Whisper-of-Stories shall live on, ever an inspiration to those that would listen to him as their muse, forever bound to the Tower…But, i'm just a fool of a story teller, and i must go on." And with a final step, Yupan the mundane storyteller stepped out. Faintly, beyond the ears of even the keenest man, upon the wind drifting across the Tower that thinks one could hear. "Farewell, i shall watch over your disciples, The Seat of Enlightenment shall not falter under my watch".
In a park in Ozcollo an old man sits, his skin aged and wrinkled with the years. He smiles, gently as he stares out over the city, as children's laughter fill the air. A young child steps up, a curious look in her eye. "Hey? Do you know any stories? I've already heard all the ones my grandfather knows, and i want to hear some new ones!" Behind her, more children draw closer, intrigued by hearing something new.
The old man blinks, before laughing. The children, spooked from the burst, took a step back, before the man chuckling looked up at them. "I know many stories children, which one do you want to hear?" Yet, as he replies, a fond, nostalgic look fell over his eyes. He leaned forward, as if to share a secret. "Actually, do you know any stories? I've told so many in my days."
The girl blinks, before eagerly speaks up "Oh, I've heard that the Singing shepherds have to ride a giant flying dragon as their test" Before another child sputters. "What?! No no, it's not some stupid dragon, but a gigantic wolf!" The girl turns around, outraged as the children descend into an argument about how the story was supposed to be. It was new, one untouched by the hands of Philosophers.
Yupan smiles as he breathes his last.
What a nice dream.
So, here's my take on the omake bounty for Feverish dreams? Mh? What do you mean it's about a totally different topic?! Surely i wouldn't make such a big mistake.
Joking aside, it did start out as attempt on that, but perhaps very fittingly given what ended up being produced, my muse ended up dragging me in a totally different direction. Was based upon the comment by OldShadow on how the last few members from the Age of the First Workings, were of the Tower that think, and basically on the verge of death.
Been a turn or so since that, so wanted to try my hand at the last Philospher from that era passing by, leaving the future to the new students. While, they were suppose to basically be mummies, which is how they clung to life, i flaried it up a bit for the sake of the story. With the Anima of the tale of basically being the oldest Philospher around, letting Yupan punch a bit above his weight.
In a differnet life, i image he wouldn't actually been that special, but like how many stories are, he just happened to be at the right place for the right time, to make a difference. Hope it came out well. My attempt at writing actual Philospher stuff is probaly somewhat bad still, but i hope i'm improving! We're all students of the Tower that thinks in a way, in this thread.
Canon
When you are that old, it is hard to separate beetwen what is a story and what is you.
And the great success of the Tower that Think was creating their story, weaving it with the hopes and dreams of the people, and then making it real in the world of matter.
Canon
When you are that old, it is hard to separate beetwen what is a story and what is you.
And the great success of the Tower that Think was creating their story, weaving it with the hopes and dreams of the people, and then making it real in the world of matter.
Yeah! Not sure if i showed it that well, but i imagen that Yupan wouldn't have been that impressive had he been born in the current Order. But because he happened to be a person woven into the Story of one of the Greatest Philsopher, had that anima essentially hang over his entire being. It was basically acting like a muse, constantly whispering in his ears. It was almost like another person. And even at the end, the Whisper-of-Stories didn't truly die, because it's story still being told. So it might act as a muse to the ears of the Philospher writing stories, and weaving anima. A lot less powerless without a host, in some ways it might even be akin to an early prototype of the Stillborn Gods.
At least, how i was approching it. It's a really cool system behind the magic here, espesically since you got several contradictory ones running around,
Yeah! I'm really curious on how the Lesser Temples are going to turn out. I think, atop my head this is first time we're creating a god like this without it being directly tied into something from the very start, like the God-cities or God-Fortresses.
Since Gods are the things that really make the Order, actually possible from my understanding, Elementals as Gods can have a really curious big-splash effect. Potentially opening up several elemental themed projects, like making a mountain for a special type of thing, etc. Of course, it's an 2MP project, so it might not overall be that huge in terms and it's the lesser temples since the White Tower was basically bonking the Tower that Think from going overboard at the start.
But, as a starting point, it's going to be really interesting. It was a pretty good idea, i really liked it when i saw it.
The last Quarter of the Cycle of Growth has come.
In the halls of the Order, the Philosophers debate, prepare for a new Cycle, study with relentless focus the reports and sample of ice and water brought back by Citalee, as the God-Fortress refill its store of food and its crew take a well-deserved rest on the homeworld.
More than all, they prepare for the coming change, for the perfecting of Cradle that had been prepared for the entire Quarter.
All that has been done, all that has been learned, will either make Cradle forever better and elevate the Order in the search for Wisdom, or be both long-lasting wound and a painful lesson.
But as the Order works on greater perfection, the Council must adjudicate on the making of lesser ones.
For, in the comfort and safety of the God-Cities, the Mundanes are working on creating their own Heavens, self-sufficient utopias built into buildings tall as mountains, where they could live in perfect, isolated felicity.
This is a change brought by the Order's Works and unplanned by the Philosopher, and now it is their duty to divine how to deal with it, how to ensure the elevation of the Mundanes, the continued stewardship of Cradle and the advancement of Enlightenment.
[][Heavens] Write-In, propose a potential way to deal with the making of the small Heavens.
Each turn, the two most voted proposals will be tested on a small scale by the Order, until a permanent solution is chosen amongst tested proposals, or the Heavens are built without intervention from the Order.
On a lesser but more…unseemly way, somewhat ashamed members of the Mundane Council have come before the Order to speak of a growing trend amongst the Mundanes, that seek to relive…carnal need with the Spawns, and are asking for more…responsive and human-like Spawns for their…desires quite loudly.
They do not know how to react to this and neither do the Philosophers.
[] [Spawn-Lovers] Write-In, reaction to the…Spawn-lovers. Doing nothing is, of course, a possibility.
I rolled 69 on an event roll….
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------—----------------------------------------------------------------------- Available God-Fortress
Our first Void-Fortress, the smiling goddess of exploration, armored in ice, blue light shining from her eyes, with a withered arm holding a broken sword.
LV 2 Void-Fortress
Crew : about 2 millions Mundanes and 100 Philosophers
Can travel in Cradle's System without risks of starvation.
Divines Domains :
Air : Can generate air and winds, maintain breathable atmosphere when on a planet and provide better control of atmosphere and temperature on board.
Ice : Can generate and control ice, and, to a lesser extent, water.
Exploration : Increased perception of the God-Fortress
Mundane Work : Increased resilience of the God-Fortress, Mundane population on board provide a form of emergency powers (arts produced and offered to Citalee), Mundane craftsmanship on board will help repair damage and provide reagents for emergencies Working.
Synergy :
Air+Ice = Mist, Can generate mist, better control ice, and expel concentrated mist as a form of propulsion.
Air+Ice+Exploration = Eyes of the Goddess, what the Goddess can see can be projected upon panels of Ice lifted by the winds or moving cloud of mist, and the position of the Fortress projected on star maps with the same principle.
Enhanced navigation and divination on board.
Inherent :
Greater Goddess : Citalee holds 3 Domains, and as such is a Greater Goddess, more active and powerful than other Gods. This increase her might and the power of her features, but make her harder to control for the Order.
Firstborn : As Firstborn God-Fortress of the Order, Citalee will be a shining example of its ideals and what a God-Fortress should be. A heavy responsibility.
Spiritual Weight : Citalee is able through her spiritual weight to create an artificial gravity well, giving a gravity to her body and the people inside. Her might is strong enough to expand this well beyond her, giving Citalee the ability to create a bubble of gravity, air and temperature equivalent to Cradle in a diameter of around four times her size.
God-Fortress Actions
[] Back to the workshop
God-Fortress may be sent back to Cradle to be repaired, and enhanced with new refinements and ingenious crafts that may be discovered or adopted by the Order.
Exploration
[] Prim, The Sun
Glory to Prim, Glory to the Sun, giver of light.
What greater journey would there be than to go near the giver of life of our system, endure the power of its rays and gaze upon its innermost workings ?
[Second Circle of Astrology]
A God can endure the Sun's glory, A Philosopher may. A Mundane cannot. At least yet.
[] The Broken Soldier
What was once the world nearest to our sun, shielding it as a soldier for his King, the Soldier has been broken in twain long ago, two halves floating in the voids, their inside left to burn under the sun's light.
[] Cavr, of the Green Sky
Symbol of fertility for centuries, Cavr is the only world in our system that resembles Cradle, and may, some pounder, shelter life below dense, green clouds.
[] Gorv, Forge of the Titans
A vast world filled with storms and dangerous air, circled by thousands moons, Gorv is the mythological forge of the Titans, the place filled with the most raw power in our system after the Sun.
[] Vij, The Dreaming
Second largest world of Cradle's System, Vij is a world that shines with a thousand hues far from us, colors from unknown air that may only otherwise be seen in dreams.
[] Oa, Almost lost
Far, far from us, far from the rays of Prim, lie Oa, shrouded in darkness. What can be learned from a world without light, half inside the system, and half out of it ?
Study
[] The course of Doom
From the gazes of Citalee, the diviners of the Order have gained a better idea of the work of the rays of the Cursed Stars, and how they brought Doom upon Cradle.
According to them, the rays come from three, separated places, like three hordes sent from three cruel fortresses besieging one city.
Those rays come faster than light should be able to move, and are touched by the power of realms beyond matter.
They ask us to sent a God-Fortress into the void, to explore in details those cursed rays, even with the knowledge that a terrible fate may befell those exposed to the rays of Doom Launch a (risky) study on the rays of the Cursed Stars in the void
Labors
[] Scavenging of Celestial Materials
God-Fortress and others divined means of exploring the void through Philosophy cannot (at least for now) be crafted without matter born of the void, the ice of comets and the stone of voidrocks.
As such, it would be valuable to send a God-Fortress to gather and bring around Cradle the needed materials for further voidcraft. Gain units of voidrocks and comets determined by a random rolls
[Second Circle of Astrology]
matter of the void, born of worlds unmade, of worlds unborn, what may await in them ? —-----------------------------------------------------------------------
What will the Order study this Quarter in the soulless mind of the Eye ?
[] Gates of Violence [Eye] : How do the Eye fight ? What imprinted instincts command its strike, and how do it differentiate between friends and foes ?
[] Chains and Obedience [Eye] : Imprinted Gates control the Mind, forcing it to obey orders, process information in a certain ways and follow rules, like a man cannot force itself to not breathe.
Furthermore, the Mind and the Sphere can be understood (and thus affected) like a mind and a body.
Thus, we shall study the mind, and learn if it may be chained, like the leash, collar and rack chain the mind of men.
[] Introspection [Eye] : The Mind is twice trapped. Once by its makers and masters, mutilating the structure of the Mind into an eternal slave. Twice by the Order, lost in a cage of circular thoughts, never to be free. Can such a soulless mind learn from this ? Could it reach wisdom ? Could the cut that reduces and enslaves it be healed ? Or has the Order found a perfect weapon against the Engines of Extinction ?
[] The Time of Ending [Eye] [Path of Entropy] NEW : The Mind is immortal, not invulnerable. From its end, any risks it could ever birth will be annihilated, and from it, we will learn how to slay its prey, like the hunter learning the weak part of a prey.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Know of the Order's resources and Power for the Second Quarter of the Cycle of Growth
Action Points : 4 Archeology Point : 1 (Usable only on Exploring the Past Actions) Mundane Point : 3 + 1 (Mundane Conclave, automatically attributed)
Action Points can be used on all actions, Mundane Point only on [Mundane] tagged actions.
Usable Scale: 4 (Available Scale (18) – Used Scale (14))
Action can Consume Scale, reducing the Usable Scale of the Order permanently, Or Use Scale, using up Usable Scale for 1 turn
Eoparatiratis the Dawn Watcher, Philosopher the White Tower [Philosopher] [Dawn Watcher] Eoparatiratis want to study storms greater than possible on Cradle
Vyati Antara, Elider of Gaps, Abandoner of Distance, She Who Steps Beyond the Between, Philosopher of the Sundial Tower [Philosopher] [Abandonner of Distance]
Wertifi, The Dreaming Architect, Philosopher of the Tower that Think [Philosopher] [Dreaming Architect]
Heroes can be assigned to an action by adding their tag on the vote (For example, [Dawn Watcher] for Eoparatiratis).
Heroes do not provide additional AP, but modify and enhance actions.
If a Hero is not assigned to an action, I will make a roll to see what they do during their free time.
[Philosopher] Heroes can be assigned to all actions, [Mundane] to [Mundane] tagged actions only.
A belt will appear above Cradle in 3 turns A cycle takes 50 years, according to the course of the Star of Wisdom, guiding star of the Order. Each Cycle is divided into four quarters of 12,5 years. Yellow actions are ongoing. Cyan action is the action chosen by the Mundane Conclave
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Concerns Concerns are the main focus of the Order, with actions staying active until their Concern is resolved
Gift of Health
Despite the ongoing debates in the gardens-halls of the Living Tower, a Gift of Health must be given to the Mundanes, and a debt repaid.
There are three proposals on how to do so.
The Gardeners want to perfect the environment of the Mundanes, to create the surrounding that will free them from illness, lack and distraction.
The Teachers want to educate each Mundanes until they can correct their individual wounds, weakness and imperfections by themselves.
The Potioneers, who desire to correct the ill health and imperfection of the Mundanes with elixirs and drugs.
To the Conclave, the duty to choose.
Actions with the [Gardeners] [Teachers] or [Potioneers] tags contribute to the Gift of Health and strengthen one of the Living Tower's factions.
[] Sowing the Fields of Tomorrow [Mundane] [Living Tower] [Singing Shepherds]
With the spread of life all over Cradle, come the spread of the Hives, ready to claim new lands and cultivate them.
Those new Hives and fields far away are not currently needed to feed the Mundane in the God-Cities, and, many in the Living Tower argue, should be dedicated to fulfilling the Gift of Health and preparing the future, not fill granaries when the Order already manages vast food reserves.
You can take one Sowing the Fields of Tomorrow action per turn, thank to uncultivated lands and untapped Hives
-[] Pasture of Tomorrow [0/1] [Gardeners, Healers]
With vast expanses of plains made fertile again, it had been proposed by some to reintroduce to Cradle vast herds of livestocks, be they horses, bisons or the wooly mastodons of the northern tundras. Beyond restoring another part of the nature destroyed by the Doom, such an endeavor would provide leather, fur, blood meat and milk for the Order and the Mundanes, and finally allow us to give backs dogs and cats to the Mundanes, for those treasured companions could not easily by feed with the food available in the God-Cities. Introduce herds in the Wilds. Provide animal products. Provides more companions to the Mundane and the Order.
[] City of Growth and Health [1/2] [Use 1 Scale] [Living Tower ; Tower that Think] [Gardener; Healers;Potiooners] [Path of the Elements]
To provide the Gift of Health, all factions of the Living Tower agree that both infrastructure will be needed, and the Tower that Think has an idea to provide both.
North of the Second God-City lie two vast freshwater lakes, once the center of a Kingdom devoured by the Doom, and connected again by canals last Quarter.
The proposal is to create a vast network of controlled garden and floating island all over the lakes, built around massives temples dedicated to gods and figures of healing, health and growth, until those two massives expanse of water can be weaved into one, gigantic God-City, that would allow the creations of multiples localized, controlled environment, the growth of almost any plants and provide a blessing from a God dedicated to Health and Growth.
A…somewhat ambitious project. This expanded over two lakes the size of lake Victoria
Perfecting Cradle
The scars upon Cradle's surface have been healed. The evils of the Doom are already fading into history and legends.
In the World of Ideas, Philosophers can gaze upon a perfect Cradle, an unblemished gem of blue and green floating in the Void. Now, they can touch this perfection, and , with efforts, bring it into the World of Matter
[] Fires of the Earth [0/1] [Sundial Tower] [Path of the Elements]
Now that the great volcano has been tamed, the Sundial Tower feels ready to tame and bend to the Order's will the flows of molten rock and heat hidden far below our feet.
Taming such power would be dangerous, but rewarding. Dangerous action
+ 2 available Scale, ???
[] Straightening of the World [3/4] [Mundane] [Sundial Tower] [Precises] [Path of the Elements] [Gardeners]
Cradle is unperfected, shaped by countless disasters, thousands of years of Mundanes buildings and the Workings of the Order, creating a mess of influences clashing against one another all over the world.
For centuries, this has been believed to be the natural state of the material worlds, weighted down and unable to do more than gaze a few instants upon perfection.
The Sundial Tower never accepted this.
[Scar of the Dooms healed]
With the Scars healed and all of Cradle under the rule of the Order, now they can straighten Cradle, harmonizing all the power of it into one, seamless whole, a perfected map reflected on a perfected world.
Such an achievement would have enormous, if subtle consequences, reducing conflicts, accidents, illness and natural disasters all over Cradle.
Such a task is enormous in its scale, millions of errors to correct, millions of conflicts to solve, all over the landscape of Cradle.
[Relentless Pursuit of Arete + Teaching of Precision]
Thankfully, the Order can call upon thousands of craftsmen imbued with Precision to help the Order in this glorious task.
+2 Scale, +1 Maximum Scale (Toward Perfection), Reduce conflicts and pollution on Cradle.
[] Awaken the Forests and Hills [0/2] [Use 1 Scale] [Living Tower ; Tower that Think] [Gardeners]
Nature is harsh, nature is full of conflicts, hunger and illness. The Mundanes are corrupted by it, for even protected by the God-Cities, they are being of flesh, bound to Nature.
If we desire to give them health, we must change Nature.
We know ecosystems, when given greater might, can unite into an Emergent Intelligence. We know Gods can be shaped and incarnated into part of our World.
So we shall unite those two principles, and begin the Work of turning the various ecosystems of Cradle into vast, diffuse Intellect, able to shape the world and eliminate the old ills of untouched Nature. Create Genius Loci all around Cradle. ???
Perfecting Mundane Craft
With the Working realized by the Mundanes through craftsmanship and small guidance from the Order, the eyes of many Philosophers turned toward those that live under the Tower, some wondering if Mundanes could be elevated through there own craft, other simply what to do, now that they could relies on more than apprentices to perform lesser labors.
[] Meditations on Craft [0/2] [Tower that Think;White Tower]
A proposal by the White Tower and the Tower that Think after the recent events related to the Temple-Workshops, they would like to see if spreading exercise of meditations and spiritual purification amongst Mundanes and fusing them with the practice of craft could make Mundanes more stable and more able to handle the strain of the Temple-Workshops. Spread exercises of meditations amongst the Mundanes, potentially making them more stable and more resilient to supernatural influences.
[] See the Invisible Stars [0/1] [Sundial Tower;White Tower]
Skilled are the Navigators, able to find their ways far from any coasts through the stars alone. But there may be more. Let the White Tower teach them how to follow any light to its source. Let the Sundial Tower teach them how to know where and when one is, even if chained and blinded. Let the Guild of Navigator learn how to find their way even when the stars are hidden. Enhance capacities of the Guild of Navigators, ???
[] Mysteries of the Gods [0/1] [Tower that Think]
Of all the Towers, one has shared none of its secrets with the Mundanes.
The Tower that Thinks fear to do so, fear to spread even the lowest hint on how where created the God-Cities.
How will the Mundanes react if they ever learn how their beliefs were weaved together, how they were manipulated to create the God-Cities ? How will they react if they realize the Order is not inspired by the Gods, but inspired them ? That the rites of faith of the Tower that Thinks are a means of control over the Gods as much as they are acts of faith ?
Still despite their fear, they are still curious. Some amongst them, encouraged by the good results of the others Towers, are ready to teach a few, carefully selected and trained Mundanes how to reach for the minds of the God-Cities and speak to those vast, dreaming beings.
[Mastery of the Second Circle of Astrology]
Taste the Sea of Dreams, let it fill you. God-Speakers created, ???
Or
[] Build the Palace of the Mind [0/1] [White Tower, Tower that Think]
Another proposal would be to teach a few Mundanes how to organize their own mind into a palace of the self, where they can store their memories and express part of their psyche into almost independent beings living in them.
[Mastery of the Second Circle of Astrology]
Sing to Me, Oh Muses ! Muses-Gifted created, ??? -[] A Palace for the King of the Mind, a Temple for the God of the Soul
With enough training, it should be possible to strengthen the sense of self of a Mundane until they have the authority of an absolute King over their mind. With such strength, they may be able to serve as host for some of the lesser Stillborn Gods from the Godly Womb, giving human beings other than Philosopher's arcane powers.
Those God-Hosts would have lesser powers than the Philosophers (superior body, intellect, flying like a bird…), but those powers should be easier to use than Philosophy.
This is, of course, risky. Casualties are expected. Try to empower Mundanes with Stillborn Gods. Dangerous.
[] Material Mastery of the Body [0/2] [Living Tower] [Healers] [Gift of Health]
The Teachers desire to spread far and wide every secret of medicine that only requires a keen mind and agile fingers.
Surgery, the brewing of medicines, how to balance diet, exercise and sleep, the secrets of meditations, the influence of the stars on health, everything.
Transmitting such an enormous body of knowledge will take enormous efforts, especially since the healers want to spread it as widely as possible.
In their currents, they want to create enough schools to provide at least one trained healer for one thousand Mundanes, each trainer educated for at least 10 years.
This is…quite ambitious. Provide the best possible healers with Bronze Age technology.
[] Lesser Mastery of Herbs [0/1] [Living Tower] [Potioneers] [Gift of Health]
The Potioneers, for their parts, desire able assistants to help them in producing the colossal quantity of elixirs their plan demands, and spread them to the Mundane.
They have already planned for schools where those assistants would train and test their productions.
For some reasons, they insist on the last part. Provide skilled Mundane alchemists
[] Glorious Sharing of Wisdom [0/4] [Mundane] [Guilds]
The Guilds have proved their use, providing a vast amount of skilled help to the Order.
Some argue that this is enough, that we should simply call upon the Guilds and let their knowledge slowly spread in the Mundanes population.
Others have far more ambitious proposals, calling for the creation of entire districts in the God-Cities, dedicated to sharing as much knowledge deemed safe for the Mundanes as possible with as many Mundane as possibles.
Those plans would consume vast resources, but, according to most omens, would ensure at least 1 out a 100 Mundanes would hold a faint spark of enlightenment. Massive educational efforts, construction of vast universities, explosion in the memberships of the Guilds.
Void-born Fortress
Citalee now has reached the void. More will come.
A God-Fortress level is, as far as you know, determined by its number of Domains halved and rounded up. With your current development, you cannot easily control a level 2 God-Fortress without Omakes or Hero.
[] Mightily Reach Beyond the Moon [0/1] [Use 2 Scale] [Sundial Tower]
The Order needs voidrock, but they lie beyond reach.
The Sundial Tower solution is simple : Select one massive voidrock, trace on the earth immense diagrams invoking supremacy over space and time, and simply bring down the rock, making it travel the void in one instant.
[Mastery of the Second Circle of Divinations]
Doing such a Working would generate prodigious amounts of momentum, enough to crush a mountain, but the Sundial Tower will solve this issue by transferring most of the momentum in the sea, dissipating it and ensuring an intact rock will fall without disaster on Cradle. Provide one, big asteroid on the surface off Cradle.
[] Made Prophecy Fact [0/1] [Sundial Tower]
The Sundial Tower desires certainty, exactitude, control, and will never be satisfied by omens.
However, they can satisfy himself with turning omens into certainty, and they propose to enhance the Celestial Mirror of the Announced Belt by erecting pillars of rocks around them that could use power bound but unused by the Order to empower the Mirror. Enhance the Celestial Mirror of the Announced Belt with the Towers of Omen made Certainty.
For each point of Scale unused in a Turn, increase the gathering roll for asteroid and comet by 20 %.
[] Study the smallest lives [0/1] [Living Tower]
The Living Tower studies all living beings upon Cradle, even the smallest. From their arcane art, the Tower knows of the existence of animalcula, animals too small and simple for the mundane senses to perceive them.
Study of the animalcula is hard even for Philosophers, and they are mostly of interest for spiritual reasons : Small animalcula in a large man, small man in a large world, small world in a big universe.
All is relative, all is reflected, as above, so below, and the animalcula are used by the Living Tower as symbols of those fundamental principles of the Order's Arts.
However, the Order projects to create God-Fortress has attracted new attention toward these small beings. From divinations and meditations on them, the Order know that some animalcula can feed from the weakest of light, or on floating particles of mineral matter. If they could be enlarged, or spread in one cohesive whole, the Order could have found a way to seed fields on rocks. Study bacteria to develop lifeforms usable on God-Vessel, particularly to feed worshipers.
Warning ! Bacteria are little understood by the Order, and cannot be truly observed, only divined with their technological level.
[] Astrological Overview [White Tower, Sundial Tower] [0/1]
Thanks to what we learned from Citalee, our diviners and stargazers have already begun the arduous work of correcting our assumption on the stars and light over Cradle.
We must understand the power of the light beyond a sky, calculate the distance of the stars other than our sun, and divine the impact of the light of the cursed stars in the void.
A thousand years of assumptions to change… This action will be repeatable, and its rewards will change with the data gathered either from more powerful observatories or the God-Fortress
[] Weave the Chapter of Celestial Ice [0/1] [Use 1 Scale,Consume 1 Unit of Comets]
Above Cradle, comets await, dragged by the power of the Celestial Mirror. Our might has been gathered, our rites perfected. From the Godly Woub, a God-Seed has been prepared.
Let us give each comet an Anima, and fuse them into one mind. Let us create a floating city of ice, a God-Fortress to explore the void.
Let us give a small sibling to Citalee. Create a Chapter of Celestial Ice, a collective consciousness of Comets-Gods forming a city of ice. Faster, but relatively fragile and with poor living conditions. Only a few thousand worshipers (a number below the Order's notice).
-[] Shape a Palace of Ice [0/1] [Mundane only]
More than ever, the Mundanes have grown in their mastery of craft. Let us once again call upon them, let a thousand chitine chisels shape raw ice into a Palace, and a thousand dreams feed the Comets-Gods. Reduce cost of Weave the Chapter of Celestial Ice to 1 Scale. Unlock Mundanes features for the Chapter.
-[] Naming of the Chapters [Write-In, Max of 2 Domain]
With the power of the Godly Womb, we can now shape and choose the God-Seed that will become the God-Fortress. This allows us to give face, name and archetypes to empower them and guide them toward a purpose : Mighty God of War, cunning god of Travel, wise god of Knowledge…to give them Domain like the gods of Cradle's lost pantheons.
For the Chapter, this allows us to empower the Comets-Gods with resonant Domains. Choose up to two Domains (Travel, Exploration, Curiosity, War, Protection, Luck…) to empower the Chapter with. This will change the capabilities of the God-Fortress.
-[] Greater than a Chapter [Increase cost by 1 unit of Comets, 1 Scale]
With the numbers of comets above Cradle, it could be possible to fuse them all into one, titanic Chapter, the size not of a palace but a small city. Such size would increase the strength of the God-Fortress, but perhaps reduce its speed. Create a Monastery of Celestion Ice, bigger, more powerful and less fragile than a Chapter, but perhaps less fast.
[] Awake the Fortress of the Void [0/1] [Use 3 Scale, Consume 1 Unit of Asteroid and 1 Mundane Population]
Above Cradle float a gigantic rock, the size of a God-City. Let us bring it down, and fuse it with colossal might with a powerful Godseed, turning cold, unshaped stone into a powerful fortress able to brave the dangers of the void.
Then let us fill the fortress with millions of Mundane, to empower the God of this Fortress, and send it into the dark between stars, to explore, to discover, and, if necessary, to destroy.
A peer to Citalee.
Create a Void Fortress, a slow, resistant floating city forged from an asteroid and filled with millions of worshippers. In many ways, this is a floating God-City.
-[] From Stone to Walls [0/1] [Mundane only]
More than ever, the Mundanes have grown in their mastery of craft. Let them work upon voidrock, turning rough form into empowering geometry and bare tunnels into engraved arteries, able to easily conduct power. Reduce cost of Awake the Fortress of the Void to 2 Scale. Unlock Mundanes features for the Chapter
-[] A Name for a Fortress [Write-In, Max of 1 Domain]
With the power of the Godly Womb, we can now shape and choose the God-Seed that will become the God-Fortress. This allows us to give face, name and archetypes to empower them and guide them toward a purpose : Mighty God of War, cunning god of Travel, wise god of Knowledge…to give them Domain like the gods of Cradle's lost pantheons.
For the Fortress, this allows us to turn a simple Fortress into one ringing with the might of one Domain, walls thrumming with a purpose. Choose One Domain (Travel, Exploration, Curiosity, War, Protection, Luck…) to empower the Chapter with. This will change the capabilities of the God-Fortress.
-[] A Seed of Ice [Increase cost by 1 unit of Comets and 1 Scale]
A few Philosophers have proposed to use the power of the Godly Womb and the comets above us to forge a seed of purest cold and ice, and put it in the heart of a
Void Fortress, allowing it control over cold and ice, and to gather frozen water from nothingness. Empower a Void Fortress with a Seed of Ice, giving it control over cold and the abilities to generate and move ice.
[] Build the City of the Starseekers [0/4] [Mundane] [White Tower] [Navigators]
If we want to reach further into the voids, we will need a place utterly dedicated to reaching it, home of the stargazers and explorers.
It would consume many ressources, and create a new group of Mundane unable to live without seeing the stars, but it would be worth it.
[Second Cycle of Astrology]
For their fate will be bound not to Cradle, but to the far-away stars.
Once finished, will turn 1 MAP into a Starry Action Point. Actions will be updated, and the Starry Action Point will be usable only on space-related actions.
Exploring the Past
The lesser ruins of Cradle have been unearthed and explored, the Maze delved, and the Minotaurus slain.
Now remains the other places of ruined power upon Cradle, either lost or carefully cordoned and kept separated from the rest of the world. In those places lies the glory and folly of the past.
Shall we dare face what lies in them ?
Yes, answer the Past-Delver.
New actions will be unlocked after at least one successful expedition
[] Constructive Rebirth of Forgotten Violences [Sundial Tower] [Path of History] [Mundane] [0/1] NEW
Amongst the more martial inclined Mundane trained as assistant and historians by the Past-Delvers, an idea as spread to restore forgotten ways of battles, from the stories of long-dead warriors and the traditions carried by line of soldiers once sworn to fallen Kingdoms.
Increase martial capacity of the Past-Delvers, trigger a roll on a prepared loot table.
[] Temple-Maze of Xipe Topec [Mundane][Tower that Think] [0/1] NEW
To empower their Work without consuming precious Scale, the Past-Delver have proposed to empower Xipe Topec and entirely bind the essence of the Spawn-faced historian to the Maze through near-Mundane construction.
The modification needed would be to raise the Maze a few hundred meters on an artificial plateau, creating a larger temple of Xipe Totec in its center half-a-mile high and digging a few hundred miles of tunnels-jail-archive below the Maze.
Beyond enhancing the work of the Past-Delvers, such Work would allow the Tower that Think to more easily reproduce the Domains of Xipe Topec for their Theogony and the making of God-Fortress.
Enhance work of the Past-Delvers, give bonus to expeditions (representing the support of a full god).
Enhance Domains of History, Memory, Maze, Preservation, Spaws and Rediscovery for Theogony and God-Fortress
[] Destructive Studies of the Forgotten [Free] [Counsume 1 Reliques] [Path of Entropy]
We have reliques of the past, filled with wisdom and forgotten knowledge. We could…simply take what is in them with our Workings, even if some priceless remnants of the past will be destroyed in the process. They will be reduced to dust in time no matter what. +1 AP for next turn, roll of 1d100 for potential new knowledge.
Send Expeditions
There are many things lost, many things forgotten, many things contained, good or ill. Let us unearth them.
Those that destroyed themselves
Before the Order could be founded, two lesser orders, one of angel summoners, one of demons binders, destroyed each other in a senseless war, turning themselves into Sorcerers in the process. Ruins of their works remain, carefully quarantined by the Order. We could dare delve into them.
[] Fallen Chains [0/1] [Path of Binding]
Once, in the northwest of Cradle, there was a land of mountains and dark forests, filled with hatred, wars between neighbors, poverty and plagues. Then one hermit from a burned village found the names and faces of the demons that plagues this land, and began the work of binding them.
Years laters, his successors binded all the evil of this land into one Tower of Chains, and the sun once again shone into scarred, but free people.
Now the chains lie broken on the ground, in a land lifeless, devils bound and blinded whispering their pains on the wind. Shall we dare explore those Chains ? Explore the ruins of the Tower of Chains, home of the Binders.
[] No longer Holy [0/1] [Path of Summoning]
Once, in a kingdom of mountains ruled by one King, there was a temple on a mountaintop, and a person in it. The person prayed so that the King and people would be guided by virtues and not ambitions, that workers would build road and terrace fields for the people and not the King's conquering armies. Then, prayers brought a light into the world, and this light was an angel called Rightful Rule.
From one person and one angel, many others were birthed, until beings of virtues guided the weak and strong toward felicity, and faithful summoners Worked without vice.
Now, the temple of light is a ruin, and the angels have left this world, shamed and disgusted. Shall we dare delve into the ruin of fallen virtues ? Explore the ruins of the Temple of Light, home of the Summoners.
Our precursors
Those who inspired the Order, those we still honor. The ruins of their success and failure wait for us.
[] Once a Garden [0/1] [Path of History]
Once, in the Southwest of Cradle, between two lakes, there were wise users of herbs, healers of men, beasts and crops. They built a garden of the world as it should be, free from pain, all the bounty offered, and some of their numbers , seeing signs of coming doom, left and joined a young Order.
Now, the garden of those that once healed King and slave is an overgrowth island filled with monsters and poisons. What happened ? Explore the garden of those whose legacy live in the Living Tower.
[] Valley of the Nameless King [0/1] [Path of History]
Once, in the great land fed by the greatest river of Cradle, there was a King, lord of a dying land. For the desert was growing, and the great river's water turned slowly into a blood-colored poisson. The King sought a way to save his Kingdom, to make it survive poisson and drought, in texts forbidden, bounty of long-slain Sorcerers.
The King learned much, faster than all could expect, and soon he took on a new name, and inscribed it on every building of his Kingdoms, and his subjects that could see it were bound to him, obeying and working despite hunger and thirst.
The King, with his army and knowledge, enslaved every wise one he could find, binding them to his name, and filling their dreams with orders and painfull learning. Soon, subjects and wises worked on one grand project, in an auspicious valley, to build a grand tomb-palace complex, of pyramids and tunnels, all in the name of the King, so that once build, the King would persist beyond death, and with him his Kingdom, and all is subjects, bound even as dried corpses.
But a few of the wises he enslaved worked against him, and with a subtle act of cunning, altered the work, by weaving two concepts together. The King became the Kingdom, the Kingdom the Palace-tomb and the Valley, and all beyond became beyond the reach of the King, all the engraving and amulet of his name fading to dust, for his name was now the name of the Valley, and the Valley had no name in the tongues of man.
So the wises fled their deathless lord, to join a young Order.
Now, the Valley and the Palace and the King still are, untouched by time. Explore the Valley of the Nameless King, whose legacy live in the Tower that Think
[] The Perfect Fallen City [0/1] [Path of History]
Once, there was a land under an Emperor, field with feuding noblemen, where unity did not bring peace. In it walked a Philosopher, who shared a dream. Of a land bound by impartial laws and perfect infrastructure, where the evils of men were contained by the work of mind like a river tamed.
Many listened to his message, and built a city according to his teachings, where each law and each building was ordered.
In this city of perfected order, however, all punishments were the same. Death for murder, death for thief, death for being late. For the Philosopher desired to reach his visions at all cost.
He ruled and punished until those once loyal rose against him, and a few left, guided by a woman who vowed to guide and never force.
Now the city is ruined, perfect order and laws turning to dust. Shall we dare face fallen dreams of impossible Order ? Explore the city of one whose legacy lives in the Sundial Tower.
Beyond Philosophy
Theirs are ruins and secrets beyond those that inspired our Order. There are many secrets worthy of being undiscovered, there are many threats worthy of being destroyed.
[] The Lessers, the Unfound [0/2] [Mundane]
There are many ruins on Cradle, buried in the desert, isolated on mountain's peak, or under the seas. Ruins almost untouched by greater ills and deeds, but still filled with the past, ready to be uncovered. +1 Reliques
[] Seek the Egg [0/1][Path of History]
Neter nature nor a merciful creator brought humanity to Cradle, but a cruel Egg, creating and destroying in service of one vision. Thanks to Fate, the Egg now lies broken in the depths of the seas, and our kind was able to grow without the Egg's presence and cruel judgements.
Like a boy wounded by his father, and now a man, it is time for us to seek the Egg, reach it, and demand answers.
Why were we made ? Where do the Egg and our kind come from ? Why was the reason for the Egg's cruelty ? Seek the Egg, and extract answers from it.
[Second Circle of Divination]
Even wounded, the Egg can still destroy. Be prepared.
[] Into the Deep [0/?]
Below the World-Spine lie lands unseen and creatures undiscovered. Life that seems not kin to us. The secrets of Cradle's own past. Shall we dare face the deep ? Explore the depths of the Underworld and seek the first lives.
Caged Storm
The Storms of Doom have been chained, bound to one valley and weaved into one Storm.
The Storm rage, powerless, never again to kill, destroy or turn fields to wastes.
The Storm is our, to enslave, destroy or purify.
[] Purify the Storm [2/3] [Path of the Elements] [White Tower; Living Tower]
Storms were once like winters or forest fires, a necessary, if dangerous, part of the cycle of nature. It is the Doom that turned them into agents of pure destruction. Let us call on the memories of the storms of old, that cleaned the land off dead trees and ended fates, let us slowly drag with hardened leaves and mirror of ice the cruel light of Doom, hidden in cutting winds and dreadful lighting. Let us work until the sea of corruption hidden in the Caged Storm is empty, and the storms of nature can exist again. The Caged Storm became Storms of Cradle, winds and lighting of nature, to spread and be used by the Order.
Interests [9/10 + 1 Free Interest] Interests represent the various interests of the Order, shifting according to Omens, political favor and discovery. They have a chance to shift from turn to turn, and there will be a shift when the Cycle changes.
There is a limit on the number of Interest equal to twice your number of Towers + any bonus.
[] Worship of the Mindless [0/1] [Living Tower; Tower that Think]
Can being without minds feed a God ?
This is the question asked by Philosopher of the Living Tower and the Tower that Think, debating if it would be possible to sustain God-Hives with spawns of the Hive-Empress.
This debate has been made even more complex by the discoveries of Emergent Intelligence, born of many lesser beings in harmony, and the recent weaving of Xipe Totec, Spawn-faced God-custodian of history.
They ask for support to divine answers to this question. Try to create God-Hive, sustained by spawns of the Hive-Empress's
[] Build the Heavenly Cities [Mundane]
With our new knowledge, and the growing skills of the Mundane, the possibility of remodeling in depth the God-Cities has been opened.
Many projects have been proposed, to construct new districts or remodel entire parts of the landscape of the Cities, and all must be considered by the Order. Build new specialized districts or remodel completely the God-Cities.
Chose one sub-option
-[] Halls of Battles [0/1] [Sundial Tower] [Doomed]
The Sundial Tower would build gymnasiums, arena and halls to practice strategy and tabletops games, seeking to spread the arts of battle amongst the Mundanes, and, they hope, empower the Doomed. Create sports and martials districts in the God-Cities
--[] Coliseum of Trials [0/1] [Living Tower] [Singing Shepherd]
The Living Tower would push the idea even further.
They would vastly expand the arenas and training fields, creating vast Coliseum in every Cites, vast enough to allow small armies to fight in formations.
Here, the Mundanes would test themselves against each other and Spawns of the Hive-Empress, here strategy would be honed, and here again, great chariot races could be organized again ! Create vast coliseum for sports, entertainment, military training and the development of strategies.
-[] City-Fortress [Sundial Tower, Tower that Think] [Precises] [0/2]
We now can turn the God-Cities into a few interconnected vast fortresses of stone, concentrating the Mundanes into easily defensible structures and fixing the Cities neatly into Cradle, without risk of muddling the separation between Cities, fields and wilds.
It would also neatly unite the art of making God-Cities and God-Fortress into one. God-Cities become Arcologies. Begin fusing the making of God-Cities and God-Fortress into one.
-[] Colossus and other Hands [0/2] [Tower that Think, Living Tower] [Precises]
A God-Cities can move every part of its body, the buildings, roads and canals. By the same principles, statues of all sizes made in a form respectful of the God may be moved too, giving to the Cities very real hands and feets to act. Moving status of the God-Cities made.
-[X] Temples of the Lesser Gods [Elementals] [1/2] [Tower that Think] [Precises]
It had been known for many years that a God may be brought into the world of Matter through architecture alone, maintained in a Temple specifically built to sustain it, but such work of architecture could not easily be raised.
No longer, with the increased might of the Tower and the labor of the Precises, some of the lesser aspects of the God-Cities may be given a home and a stationary avatar to inhabit, giving them the abilities to act and use their powers in the Cities.
According to our calculations, a mile tall pyramid entirely covered with the names and faces of the God should be enough
[Second Circle of Astrology]
We should probably do a few trials before building such temples in every God-Cities…
Build a few Temples of the Lesser Gods of the chosen Domain in the God-Cities, for trials. [] Invoque the Order's Veto
[] The Lesser Heavens [0/8] [Mundane] NEW
In each God-Cities, amidst the buildings taller than mountains created by divine might and Precise labor, the mundane Work, seeking to create in the world of matter the Heavens they have dreamed of so long.
The perfect polis of the Philosopher-king, the endless field of reeds where night does not exist, the perfect palace of the Yellow Emperor, and many others.
Dream made reality.
????, will automatically progress by 0,5 each turn, others actions taken can influence the progress of this action.
[] Forge a Sword of Entropy [0/1] [Use 1 Scale] [White Tower, Sundial Tower, Tower that Think] [Path of Entropy]
The Order has unleashed the ending that awaits all matter, flesh and mind, and the Philosophers have learned from this. They now wonder if a weapon could be made, a rusted, almost broken sword, from which the Order could unleash Entropy without having to sacrifice the work of Mundanes.
The fate of all bound to the will of the Order. Create a Sword called Entropy, inevitable decay turned into a one-shot weapon.
[] Provide Precious Elixirs [0/1] [Consume 1 Scale] [Living Tower] [Potioneers]
From the production of elixirs to empower the Order against the Eye, a new faction has been born amongst the Living Tower, alchemists desiring to keep the Order supplied in philters and drugs.
They are arguing for the creation of empowered orchards and laboratories, to increase production... beyond what some would say is reasonable. Create Elixirs Plantations, providing alchemical products. Unlock alchemical and drugs actions. Will provide 1 additional AP, thanks to stimulants, with negative effect if abused.
[] The Gates of Logic
The Order has learned of the Gate of Logics, imprint on the mind of beings that allow the creation of artificials instincts.
With it, we could turn an untrained youth into a skilled warrior in a day, or teach a new language in the same time, knowledge that must be taught until they imprint deeply into a mind carved in a few instants.
With it, we could also enslave, or maim, preventing one from using their senses or from disobeying orders.
Whatever is the case, we must study those Gates, how to apply them, how to change them, how to destroy them.
How will the Gates be tested ? -[] Instincts to the Mindless [0/1] [Living Tower; Tower that Think] Mindless are the Spawns, obeying orders imprinted in their very beings by the rites of the Living Tower.
Asleep are the God-Cities, bound by the legends and rites used to weave them into the world of matter.
With the examples of Gates, some believe we could learn how to imprint knowledge, skills and new orders on those beings that cannot learn them naturally. Try to imprint Gates of Logic on mindless, or at least unconscious beings.
-[] Teach the Unenlightened [0/1] [Living Tower; Tower that Think] [Teachers] With the help of the Gates, it may be possible to accelerate the learning of the Mundanes, or even the Order's apprentices. If the Order, for example, could create a hall filled with Anima that imprint on every mind in it the ability to read one language, how much effort would be spared from countless childrens ! Try to use the Gates to rapidly imprint knowledge and skills.
-[] Of Chains [0/1] [White Tower ; Sundial Tower]
In every God-Cities, they are Mundanes that desire death but cannot or do not want to join the Doomed. This is a truth that the Order cannot affect. Yet.
Some, amongst those Mundanes, still desire to help others. So they offer themselves to the Order. We do not use them, beyond letting them sample a few new, minor elixirs, before sending them to the White Halls.
Now, we shall call upon them, and, only on the willings, test how the Gates of Logic can bind a Mind, reduce a person to obedience or to infirmity.
Then, we shall test how to break those bounds, how to liberate a mind from the tyranny of the Gates.
We do not use people. Try to use the Gates to bind and enslave minds, before seeing how those Gates can be destroyed.
[] Sow the Seas [Living Tower] [0/1]
Compared to the lands of Cradle, the seas are somewhat untouched and unexploited. As such, they are an opportunity.
The fishponds set-up by the Mundanes in the God-Cities has inspired some of the more food-focused members of the Living Towers, who now seek to create vast aquacultures around the coast of Cradle cared for by modified spawns of the Hive-Empress.
It would be but a first step, they claim. After the coasts, the Seat of Prosperity will claim all the seas for the Order and the Mundanes. Create aquaculture farms around the coasts. Initial step for sea colonizations.
[] Beyond the Lunar Sphere [0/1] [Use 1 Scale] [White Tower]
Eoparatiratis as a proposal, now that the Order has claimed the highest peaks of Cradle, to build a spire of crystals and lens high above, allowing us to gaze with greater precision than ever upon the stars far and the planets near.
With what we learned from Citalee, he thinks this would help us finally be able to affect with Workings that lie beyond our Lunar Sphere. Create a major Observatory, help with astronomical observations and obtain information on Cradle's system planets. Tests of Translunar Workings.
[] Experimental Theogony [0/1] [Tower that Think]
For all the history of the Order, the Tower that Think could not experiment as much as they desired with the Gods, because of how hard they where to bring into this world, and, because all that was said about by other Towers, the Tower that Think is not reckless enough to just experiment without care on God-Cities.
Now, they can finally explore the art of God-Making. Choose one subject of studies
-[] Muses
The Muses are the guiding spirits of the Stories-Weaver, shaped from part of themselves into helpful giver of inspiration and keeper of memories and allowing them to follow multiple lines of thought at the same time. Could they be empowered further, and spread to the Philosophers of the other Towers ?
-[] Living Dreams and Avatars
Living Dreams are what happens when a God-Cities grow in strength to the point where the vast sea of dreams that make them up can manifest part of itself upon the world, in the form of a living archetype (the Watchful Guard, the Joyous Reveler, the Wise Matron…). By fusing a stillborn God with one of those burgeoning living archetypes, it may be possible to create a helpful half-god to help the Order and the Mundanes.
-[] Cradle and Arva
An old dream, to awaken Cradle and Arva themselves as God. A dream that could be reality. First, with the Order's new capabilities, we shall divine what would be needed to awaken an entire world.
-[] Gods for the Order
The God-Cities provide much for the Mundane, shelter, water, roofs…In many ways, this is with the Spawns which allow the Mundanes to no longer labor endlessly to simply survive like in the time of the Kingdoms. Could it be possible to create Gods providing equivalent benefits for the Order, perhaps inhabiting part of the very Towers ?
After all, the Tower that Thinks provides a few of such benefits , even if the Tower prefers to feed an endless curiosity before doing such tasks …
-[] Gods of the Void
From the birth of Citalee, the Order has learned much, on how Domains empower a God, increasing its spiritual weight. Still, questions are open, how many Domains may the Order give to a God before risking birthing what we may not control ? And could we use Domains taken from the very Void for our Workings ?
-[] Lords of Ice NEW
Over Ice rule Citalee, of ice are the Comets made, in Ice are the waters of Dert trapped. How further can the Order push the power of the Gods of frozen water and freezing cold ? And could we learn more from their nature ?
[] Of Weight and Attraction [0/1] [White Tower, Sundial Tower]
There are many weights in this world, weight of Matter, like a mountain or Cradle itself, weight of Mind, like the great thinker of the past, and weight of Spirit, that can be felt in our Workings and in the Gods.
From the ascension of Citalee, we now know that weight is what allows men to walk and not float in the void, the greater attraction and locking in place the lessers.
In many ways, it is as it should be, for if those of great wisdom or might attract students and followers, orbiting around them, why would it not be so for stars, worlds and Gods ?
Now, the Dawn Watcher greatly desires to learn how much we could affect the power of weight through Workings, and how much weight influences this universe, its light and its Fate. Study the mysteries of weight, the Order learns of gravity and its manipulation from a completely mystical point of view.
[] A Tower to the Stars [Mundane] [Every Towers] [0/6, at least 2 of the total used must by AP and not MAP]
One tower, toward the sky, of stone and bricks.
One tower, taller than all, made from laborers Mundane and mystic.
One tower, climb thank to the might of Gods and the Pillars of Travels,
To reach for all beyond our Cradle. Orbital elevator made, allowing far easier travel beyond Cradle's Atmosphere. From its top, all may gaze upon the void and stars, sight unimpeded by the sky and clouds.
This is a Great Work
[] Mind of Bronze [Mundane] [0/1] NEW
A few of the Past-Delvers, after reading of the nature of the Mind and the Sphere, have come before the Council, speaking of how, amongst some Mundanes, persist stories of mechanical minds made of bronze, used by the lord and priest of fallen Kingdom to predict the future.
They ask for resources toward making such a mind anew, and see what can be learned from this making and what use the mind may have for the Order and the Mundanes.
Recreate analog computers of bronze
[] A Forest in the Ice [Living Tower] [0/1] NEW
With the discovery of the Lever, and that Dert, this world of lifeless ice and sunless ocean, will one day be filled with life, members of the Living Tower have come before the Council, asking to be given the resources necessary to Work into reality lives ables to prosper and spread on Dert, and to prepare the creation of a new Hive-Empress for this new world.
Preparation to seed Dert with life
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I am back !
2 day moratorium, as the conclusion of a cycle and the time of completion for a lots of projects, this is a big turn. Remenber people, you have earned one (1) warning from the QM if the chosen winning plan would be disastrous !
Vote by plan, adding the space exploration, like this
[]Plan something
-[] Space action [Citalee]
Scheduled vote count started by OldShadow on Apr 12, 2024 at 9:58 AM, finished with 14 posts and 9 votes.
[X] Plan A Fortified Tower as the cycle finishes.
-[X] Sowing the Fields of Tomorrow [Mundane] [Living Tower] [Singing Shepherds]
--[X] Pasture of Tomorrow [0/1] [Gardeners, Healers], -1MAP
-[X] City of Growth and Health [1/2] [Use 1 Scale] [Living Tower ; Tower that Think] [Gardener; Healers;Potiooners] [Path of the Elements], -1 AP
-[X] Fires of the Earth [0/1] [Sundial Tower] [Path of the Elements], -1AP[Abandonner of Distance]
-[X] Straightening of the World [3/4] [Mundane] [Sundial Tower] [Precises] [Path of the Elements] [Gardeners], -1AP [Dreaming Architect]
-[X] Purify the Storm [2/3] [Path of the Elements] [White Tower; Living Tower], -1AP [Dawn Watcher]
-[X] Build the Heavenly Cities [Mundane]
--[X] City-Fortress [Sundial Tower, Tower that Think] [Precises] [0/2], -1MAP
--[X] Temples of the Lesser Gods [Elementals] [1/2] [Tower that Think] [Precises], -1 Conclave MAP
-[X] Temple-Maze of Xipe Topec [Mundane][Tower that Think] [0/1], -1 Archeology Point
-[X] Mind of Bronze [Mundane] [0/1], -1MAP
-[X] Gorv, Forge of the Titans, -Citalee
[X] [Heaven] Upon the Cycle of Rebirth, all the needs of the mundanes were filled, and thus they sought purpose from the Order. To be craftsmen was the Task that the Order gave back unto them. Let us ensure that the mundane does not forget the senseless lack of meaning that permiated their society upon having their needs fufilled. The reasons why all the mundanes of this world practices the art of creation and the Joy that comes with it.
[X] [Heaven] The Philosophers of old promised Paradise, but to spare the rod, spoils the child. Each God-City is a ripening fruit, sweet & filling, but let us not let it rot on the vine in our wish for it to grow sweeter. Instead let us till the land & plant them in fertile soil. From temples, mountains; From parks, Forest; From cannels & fountains, lakes & rivers. Each City containing a world, spreading inward instead of sprawling outward. Each neighborhood & district a city or town on to itself. Let us invoke the memories & legends of the old kingdoms & the elements of the world to birth a realm, let what was lost be born anew grander than what was.
[X] [Spawn-Lovers] ...No. To reshape a Spawn for such a cause or desire would be... dismissive of both their purpose and our effort. But, should a person desire to take on aspects of a Spawn... It would require much work from the Living Tower, but it could be done.
[X] [Spawn-Lovers] It is not the duty of the Order to infringe upon the life of Mundanes. They have their teachers in Precise, in Shepherds, in many others. They have the examples of what can be achieved through pursuit of Knowledge and Wisdom. Through those teachers and those examples, a messege can be sent, one not from the looming throne, but through simple rumour: that the Spawn, after all, were made to labour and not to be people; that to lay with one would be like lay with a hammer or a chisel; that for those reason no Love can be found from the Spawn, merely fleeting satisfaction; that while not wrong or forbidden, it is not an attitude to be carried if one seeks Perfection. And should the Lovers accept that and still follow through with their pursuits, well... let's just do it quietly.
[X] [Spawn-Lovers] Let it be know the Order will not be providing spawns for such purpose. Spawns were created to help and guide the people of this world with the labour. Let us not give them such tasks.
[X] [Heaven] It is not the pursuit of Paradise by the Mundanes that is troubling, but the fear that without direction or limitation inhabitants of such Paradise would, through mindless indulgement in baser desires, lose the Spark of Highest Wisdom that makes us what we are. The Order does not deny the Mundanes right of rest, pleasure and entertainment - aren't there theaters, parks and art houses everywhere in God-Cities? Isn't there a decree that coffee, spice and silk, among other joys of life, be offered to those who show skill, aptitude and industriousness? So will it be with the Paradise - once built, it will be accessible to anyone for a limited time, determined by appropriate jury according to needs, skills and work of each individual and to be reassessed in time as the need for labour decreses and the pursuit of Wisdom progresses. Thus we ensure the greatest fruit born from labours of the people of Cradle, Mundane and Philosopher alike, shall be given to as many as can be trusted not to waste such a gift.
[X] [Heaven] The Mundanes urge to build Heavens are not one dissimilar to our - to reach the perfection. But to reach the perfection that is the Source-of-All, one need to to work the many paths, to be all and know all. The Heavens, through might seem perfect at first glace, are a mere isolated controlled world. Thus, heaven can not become true perfection, but a mere simulacra, for it remains beholden to imagination of "perfection" that is born from limited idea of imperfect world. It then act as inhibition, a false lure, that obstructed the path to Source-of-All by inducing compliance with the vision of false utopia. Yet, false they maybe, we can not denial Mundanes wish to create one, thus we shall encourage exchange of what Heavens of different culture and faith look like, organise meeting between the heaven-builders of different creed and nations, creating tie of ideas and knowledge between different emerging heavens so that the Heavens they construct will not be isolated, but connect.
I'll make a bigger reply later, but for now I'll apologize. I said we didn't need to restore the maze as a prison. Because i figured making a prison for evil wasn't that great. I was so very wrong. They've done what to the spawns?!
What the fuck man. I am tempted to just use flesh shaping to change these people, if they want to behave like animals we can give them the markings of such, but just not responding is also viable.
This is going to be absolutely critical though. I think the primary thing we should do is redouble our efforts when it comes to getting Mundanes involved in our projects and goals, as well as remember that currently the mundanes are acting as physical laborers, so have plenty of reason to come out of their little heavens.
