Turn 2
Menleth looks at the gathered fox spirits from the stump he rests and broods upon in shadow, those who had most keenly joined in as she had made the forests bloom with fruit and life and light, as he had saved the people, as she had defied Chaos twice in as many moons. The only ones wearing clothing at this point too, aside from the leaders, loose and light robes of green and blue fabrics, and sickles of iron. They walked at this point among the bands of foxes, distributing fruit and water and all the other food they could to young and old, man and woman, alike. Menleth's children, some called them, heartful, kind; flowers bloomed as they walked, and the thick trees seemed to get just a bit haler and healthier and better for their presence as the magic, sweet Ghyran, wafted from them like smoke from a fire.
Dressed and dignified and armed.
Which is almost funny, in its own way, on account that they all neither know how to weave nor how to forge as a group, not "Menleth's children" (were they not all Menleth's children now?) but the foxes as an entire group. With ten-thousand among them and all the ages, eons, they had together walked, some few had picked it up as a hobby but enough to arm and scores at least in so little time? Not likely. So how—
"We were still spirits, once upon a time." Ehfeyos approaches Menleth, her staff thudding on the dirt and her many-hued tails dancing in the thick, humid air, her robes still pristine in spite of the mud and water and bugs that surround them. "We took up some portion of mortality you know, but its rules lie as chains upon us: they can be slipped, especially if no one is paying attention. Making robes and sickles for a farmer, hardly the greatest thing either of us have seen in our ages."
"And you have a plan for them."
"I do. They would make it easier to establish a proper curriculum of magic, help get us all under control, before someone ends up making a mistake and ripping open a hole to the Aethyr. They could go around and teach such knowledge, practical and useful already, it's even ground the Asrai have already walked and they might even be willing to help me, assuming they aren't busy dealing with the Dawi at the moment. Or they can redouble their focus on gathering the fruits of their labor, or should I say your labor, and keep us fed."
"If you have so many plans for them already, why not ask them yourself? They will listen to you as surely as they listen to me."
"They belong to you, Menleth." He freezes as she hears it, and Ehfeyos continues unabated. "I mean, more than the rest of us already do, anyway."
"What the devil are you talking about?" Own, belong, control, those are not words he will accept, those are not words she will allow to bind another to him. She cannot. He is born to nurture, to heal, to help, not to dominate and rule like some vain-glorious tyrant.
"You ripped us out of the Aethyr, out of spirit and Form, and placed us in the world of matter. That already shaped some to be like you, those that were already similar growing moreso to emulate you. Then you tossed about Ghyran like a fountain, and burned the image of you feeding ten-thousand with a flex of your will into our spirits and our souls." Ehfeyos shakes her head, as though shocked Menleth could not have seen. "That has consequences. The rest of these fox spirits, they have your touch on their spirit. Some lesser, some greater, but from this moment on they are the Children of Menleth in truth, as much the flowing river as the raging beast at heart. Only three of us haven't been touched in such a way. Dererhan, spared by elf-touch and pure will at heart, one who burned an image as a warrior, as a force of power and strength into the Aethyr long before we fled it. Myself, knowledge and wisdom and repose by the influence of…ancient things, things that now no longer have a love of us, replaced by torpor and arrogance and stagnation. I must confess, I could not tell you how Laqurnas came to be so independent, so himself, that you with all the power gained and stolen could not outweigh the deeds he hides in shadow, but independent he is, as surely still a thing of mist and shadow and misdirection as your are of nurturing or I of knowledge." She looks, to places beyond sight, over Menleth's shoulder for a long moment. "I am old enough and tired enough to think that will strike at us at some point…but optimistic enough to think we will be stronger for it."
"Speak not so poorly out of sight of another." Her voice is cold and bleak, his eyes fiery, as instinct compels him. "We, at least, must trust one another."
"I trust him, enough at least. I have a past…as surely as he does, and quite probably worse in fact."
"Bah." They hear a sharp breath from somewhere but a quick scan does not reveal its source, and what they fear, what they fear would not hide, and so they quickly turn to other matters.
"If I and the others can make our mark, it is quite possible that they shall arrive who are touched by us, like us, shaped by our actions as they take up behavior like ours in the mortal shape, at least now while we, and while things, are in flux, as the world scrambles to comprehend what we are. I suspect as much, at least."
"Bold of you to share, when I could use that to hold such power for myself." There is no malice in it, only a mild curiosity that she is so free with that sort of knowledge.
"You can no more choose to stunt growth than I could choose not to learn, Dererhan could choose not to hunt or Laqurnas could choose not to obfuscate. We are what we are, Menleth." She smiles slightly. "Besides, you aren't so mighty yet that you can't be knocked off of your pedestal."
You have 3 Dice:
1 Menleth (Auto-Succeed on Ghyran Tagged Actions)
1 Leader (+20)
1 Organization (Children of Menleth, Tag: Ghyran Spellcasters)
[] Where are You?: You had no particular destination as you made the leap from the Aethyr to the mortal plane. Dererehan has some idea of this world and its existence, but the specifics of this place elude even him. Send him out along with others to map this place and learn, and perhaps to see if there are yet more threats seeking your skulls. (0/1 Success)
[] Control: Spells, yes, spells, that is what the mortals say they do to control the Aethyr, those lucky few who can. While you may have become mortal you are still innately tied to magic; even the least of you could become a mage, a spellcaster, of considerable prowess, while the greatest…you do not know where the limits of the greatest are, for you do not even know who the greatest are. But that is a double edged sword, there must be some reason now held. Someone must teach this new gaggle of spirits, and the young among them, to control themselves.
-You could use the Children of Menleth to help form that foundation and make it somewhat easier. This will shape magic as it is practiced by the fox spirits going forward, building upon a base of Ghyran as, according to Ehfeyos, the Asrai do. (0/1 Success)
[] Simple Tools: Magic is power and power is magic, but magic is dangerous in this new world in which you live. Ehfeyos speaks of ripping open the walls between worlds and spitting out daemons, explosions, waves of death and fire and worse; and you can die so easily now, so very easily, for all your innate nature means the magic seems to dance to your tune. Simple tools, crude but sufficient emulations of that which you have seen mortals use to perform other deeds, seem to you a good method to limit that risk.
But most of all, Menleth is curious. (0/1 Success)
[] The Hunt: You need flesh, meat, prey. It is part of the cycle, part of balance, part of many things truly. Dererhan is willing to put together bands to do so, however there is currently the problem that you lack any tools or weapons, by and large, more complex than your claws and teeth and senses. That will be an impediment until and unless it is resolved, not necessarily insurmountable but present. (0/2 Successes required)
[] Truth and Lie: You are in no position to fight off the real beasts of this world as yet, unarmed and unarmored and still reeling from losing so many, from going from numberless to so surely, utterly numbered. Laqurnas knows tricks, marks of deceit and hallucination that will make creatures approaching what you consider your territory at the moment suffer growing fright and terrors and nightmares, in proportion with how malevolent their will is. (0/2 Success)
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Sorry this is up late. If you need anything explained feel free to poke at me about it though it might take a while for me to answer since I'm going to bed after this. Moratorium of at least 12 hours, possibly more, lemme sleep on it.
