Tag Archives: Tear of Avv

The Corruption Of Avv Through Utiog

Posted on by
Reply

North. It’s known the way one knows their own pulse, without being told and without being able to say how. How far? As far as the edge of the maps, where words stop and only vague pictures continue?

A hall of black stone, and the whole of it is a working. Rings cut into the floor, one inside the next, the runes in their grooves lit purple. The grooves are wet.

Along the walls, figures hang in iron, and the channels beneath them feed the rings. Demonic figures stand at the edges in the dark and chant.

At the centre Utiog kneels, and every line in that floor ends at her.

The silver circlet is still on her brow and the blue stone in it is still bright. The gown was white once. The irons fit her wrists exactly, and the blood grooves come to them. The stone under her knees is worn into two shallow hollows.

The thing bent over her stands twice the height of a man and has to fold itself to reach her. Six arms. The lower body coiling. An Abyssal Lord. The face too calm for her body.

The Abyssal Lord is not angry. The Abyssal Lord works Utiog the way a man works a hide: not in temper, not in haste, simply without stopping.

One of the arms comes down. Utiog does not brace. When the Abyssal Lord lifts her fist away Utiog’s head is sagging more and with more blood.

The chanting climbs until the words run together. Then all of it stops at once, and the silence is worse than the sound was.

Purple tendrils come up out of the grooves and climb the walls.

Two of the arms take Utiog’s shoulders. Two hold her hips. The last two set themselves against her ribcage and open her the way you open a shutter.

What comes out of her is light-blue light.

Utiog fights this. Her body suddenly full of a vigor for fighting, but she’s also too weak from all the torture.

The Abyssal Lord goes in headfirst, slowly. One arm follows. Then another. The coil of it narrows and narrows and feeds in behind the Abyssal Lord, and Utiog’s ribs stand open the whole while, and the blue thins.

And behind all of it, faint, the way a thing is seen through water: a far greater god, opening in the same way, taking the same purple, and not resisting at all.

The last of the coil goes in. Her ribs close.

The purple goes out of the walls, the grooves and the runes, all at once, inward.

Utiog lifts her head. The stone on her brow is now red.

The thing looking out Utiog’s eyes gazes, knowing she’s being watched. She smiles. “My servant is coming for you.”

Aspect Questions; Why Is This Tear So Important?

Posted on by
Reply

Further down the road to the north after the statue and pillar created by the Dragon. Alexis has already talked about his musings on the gods. He starts talking at Ethelred.

“The plaque said ‘the Mother’s Sorrow’. Two of the Tear’s powers are the Mother’s (and no other aspect named). And Alekeemo was clearly speaking for the Maiden when he mentioned the Mother to the Dark Hand.” He shakes his head. “That’s three times the Mother shows up somewhere she’s unexpected.”

They keep walking.

“Why does Shasharak need this Tear specifically? What’s special about the Mother? Or did this Tear somehow choose him, and we’re seeing the echo of that?” He grimaces slightly. “I don’t like that idea. But why did the Dragon hide this one so carefully? Why not hide multiple Tears together in the vault?”

He turns the Spider Ring over absently.

“I keep coming back to the aspects. Three aspects. What if there are three Tears per aspect? Nine total. The math doesn’t work for three tears total. But it works for 3 tears per aspect. And temples to Avv apparently had Tears all across the empire, which is hard to square with only three.” He pauses. “Though it’s possible some aspects have hidden themselves. Disappeared.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“I’m also coming to understand the aspects better.” He shrugs slightly and continues “The Maiden is about knowing, seeing, reaching. The Mother is about ruling, shielding, empire. The Crone is about prophecy, continuity, compassion from a distance.” He glances down. “I don’t entirely know how I’m knowing these things. And I’m not certain they’re completely right. But does any of this help understand why Shasharak needs this tear specifically?” Alexis shakes his head.

They keep walking.

God Musings

Posted on by
Reply

Since the thoughts about Ilceros and Eellos, Alexis has clearly been thinking about this same topic. He speaks to Ethelred as they continue north.

Patting his belt pouch “This Tear can make a god. Or complete the ritual to make one. Ilceros and the Dragon had it the whole time.” He glances down at his hands and the rings on them. “And in this timeline Ilceros won. Beat back a power so strong his shadow is still warping reality around us.” He looks back up at the road ahead. “Did Anashar not elevate him for that? Or did he, and humanity of this timeline just forgot, because it scattered after the Great Betrayal and took its memory with it?”

A comfortable silence.

“You Aegierians keep saying Raiden was ascended. Lifted up by Anashar.” He glances sideways at Ethelred. “Was what he did so much greater than what Ilceros did? Than what the Dragon did?” The last question lands with more weight than the others.

“Or did Ilceros get elevated, and then forgotten, and then Raiden came along and channeled whatever was left of that into something new? Is Raiden Ilceros reborn? Same warren? Different warren?”

He shakes his head slowly.

“The second league had artifacts and workings this age has never come close to matching. The hourglass. The Tears. How many of those were made specifically for achieving godhood? How many names do we not know because they succeeded and then faded with the empire? How many ended up like Shasharak, or were simply obliterated when they failed?”

He turns the Spider Ring once, almost without noticing.

“In this timeline I find it hard to imagine Anashar not uplifting Ilceros. The Dragon too, maybe. And if that happened here and not in our timeline.” He looks up briefly at the daytime sky. “Maybe that’s why the stars are different.”

He keeps walking, and his thoughts shift to a slightly different topic.

“What does it mean for a god to be tied to a place? As a Sutheroni, that concept sits uneasily with me. A god spans the world, or at least all humanity. The power is constant, from time immemorial. Anashar. Avv. Hood.” A shrug. “Although some in the Collegium have their doubts about Hood.”

He glances briefly at Gustav and Rask, then back at the road.

“But Raiden is tied to the land. And I think this same land might have been Eellos. And Ilceros was connected to Eellos. And was clearly a great power. Possibly much greater than Raiden.” He pauses. “How many other gods have come and gone? Come and failed?”

He doesn’t say anything else for a while.

How Old Are the Tears

Posted on by
Reply

In the new timeline, as the group walks from the old warrior burial area — that no longer exists — to the grotto where the Monastery of the Eagles stands in another timeline. The group walks and Alexis thinks out loud, turning the Collegium ring on his finger.

“How old are the Tears, actually?”

A few steps.

“The Crone gave them to humanity to save humanity. But they were already in play at the Great Betrayal, at the end of the Second League.” He turns the Collegium ring once. “Which means there was a time before the Great Betrayal when Avv decided humanity needed saving. The Age of Wyrms? The Great Upheaval? Earlier?”

He frowns slightly.

“Humanity needed saving at the Great Betrayal. That’s clear. But if the Tears predate even that, what were we being saved from before?” He looks at the path ahead. “The Age of Wyrms? The time of the crafting of the Sword Chaotic? The time of the Saggi, the Akkil, and the demon-gods?” He shakes his head. “What was so dire, that all the other times pale in comparison?”

He doesn’t seem to expect an answer.

Guided by Raiden

Posted on by
Reply

Alexis dreams he stood upon a vast grassland beneath a gray morning sky.The grass reached nearly to his knees and rolled away in every direction, untouched by road or wall. Far away stood the dark line of a forest. Beyond it rose mountains crowned with snow. There was no temple. No throne. No choir. Only wind.

Then Alexis noticed a man walking toward him through the grass. He was tall and weathered, dressed not as a god but as an old warrior returning from a long campaign. His cloak was patched. His boots were muddy. An ancient sword hung at his side, and across his shoulders he carried a bow. His face seemed softened by humility. His eyes were tired. But kind. Alexis knew him immediately. Raiden.

Raiden stopped beside him and looked toward the mountains. For a long while, the god said nothing. Finally… “Men build walls when they are frightened.”

Raiden picked a blade of grass and rolled it between his fingers. “Then they build higher walls because the first did not make them less afraid.” He looked toward Alexis. “Shasharak built no wall of stone.”

The wind strengthened. The grassland vanished.

Alexis saw an ancient city beneath a burning sky. Armies marched beneath banners he did not recognize. Orcs, goblins, elves, humans, and creatures stranger still fought among shattered towers. Standing above them was a figure Alexis could never see clearly. Tall. Thin. Neither elf nor orc. Both elf and orc. Every time Alexis tried to see his face, smoke crossed the dream.

Raiden spoke beside him. “He believed the world had failed because those entrusted with its protection were too weak to command it.”

The scene changed. Shasharak stood upon a mountain surrounded by bodies. Above him burned lights like stars. The Gods. Shasharak reached toward them. And the heavens recoiled.

Raiden said: “He mistook obedience for unity.”

The vision changed again. Now Alexis saw Shasharak falling. But his shadow did not fall with him. It remained standing. Waiting. The centuries passed around that shadow. Kingdoms rose. Kingdoms disappeared. Forests grew where cities had stood. Still the shadow waited. Then someone approached it. A man carrying the symbol of a black and red hand. Bandesingh. The shadow turned toward him.

Raiden’s voice became grim. “Some enemies need not survive in flesh. Hatred can preserve a man longer than blood.”

Alexis asks “Is Shasharak returning?”

Raiden does not answer. Instead he draws his sword and drives it into the earth. The ground splits. Deep beneath it Alexis sees something crimson glowing in darkness. The Tear of Avv.

Raiden looks directly at him. “The old powers are moving again. Some will tell you that power must be destroyed. Others will tell you that it must be possessed. Beware both.”

Then Raiden steps closer. “You  hold something kings would murder nations to possess. Do not ask whether you are strong enough to wield it.” His expression becomes severe. “Ask whether you are strong enough to surrender it.”

Then the wind rises. Raiden disappears.

But his sword remains buried in the earth. Wrapped around its blade is a single strand of crimson thread.

Alexis awakens.

To Be Informed Is To Be Forearmed

Posted on by
Reply

The island on the water level. The others sleep between the two palm trees. Alexis takes the far one.

He told them at the fire what his working was for. The Tear is close and he wants the guidance of the Inner Watch on the tear and the taint. Rask seemed to like the idea.

The carving takes most of the night. He scrapes the sand down to the wet layer and cuts it with the butt of his whip, a section at a time, sitting back to look along the line and then leaning in again.

What it comes out as, for anyone who woke and looked: a wall, drawn as a closed ring around the foot of the tree. Set into the inside of the wall, facing in, a single open eye.

Then he sits back on his heels and lets his eyes go, and for a long while nothing happens at all.

The sand inside the ring starts glowing faintly, evenly. The dim light fades and comes back. Haze comes off the water somewhere in there and settles at knee height around Alexis and his glowing working.

“It answers in the voice you expect,” Alexis mutters to himself.

“The Second Sun was broken and it was called progress as the ruins of what was wrought was stepped on.”

Later.

“The ancients keep it in in rings nobody wears.”

The light under the sand goes almost out, and returns.

“There are shadows around it, it doesn’t throw.”

“The ladder of the gods was climbed with mortal bones and entry was denied, but hubris never ends.”

“It seeks out its others. Its others are itself.”

A long time after that, quieter.

“You will be asked to set it down. Once by a one who wants it. Once by a one who loves you.”

“The one is supported by the two.”

“Find the one who feeds him iron and blood… the one who believes he can control him”

His hands are flat on the sand.

“It remembers.”

The haze is gone by the time he comes back to himself, and the sand has stopped giving light. His knees have locked. Alexis works the feeling into them, then goes around the ring on his hands and knees, putting the sand back in place.

“Well,” he says. “That’s more than I had.”

Where is Our Barrick (of Ty-Linn?)

Posted on by
12

A few nights into the camp east of Nodden-Torr. Alexis waits until the group is gathered between their individual tasks.

“I’m feeling more confident that the Barrick who went into that mountain is Barrick of Ghanil.”

“Same name, and not a common one. And there are a lot of big events surrounding this Barrick. The ones we know about: the Ty-Lin garden, the Ty-Lin warding of King Ilceros’ tomb, the orcish runes covering his body, retrieving a Tear of Avv. And the big event we’re not sure about: him giving comfort and solace to a village of refugees.”

A silver piece starts over his knuckles.

“And Rotheldod said that Barrick was the least ‘betrayer’ of the group, which fits someone who would tend to a village of refugees… when looked at through a Rotheldod lens.”

“When we were arguing over the Thater refugees I told Telosh I was no Barrick of Ghanil, not realizing I might actually someday follow in his footsteps.”

The coin stops. Alexis twirls it in his palm.

“Barrick and his group got their Tear, which they can’t have gotten in this when. But I assume the refugees in Gahnil were still tended by Barrick. So where is he in our when?”

Doubts and Questions

Posted on by
2

Late into the two weeks of contemplation, exercise and study, Rask approaches Ca’armine while the others are busy with their work.

“Ca’armine, do you have moment to talk?” Rask asks quietly and nods his head to the side a bit to indicate privacy.

The two step away from the others a bit and Rask continues quietly.

“Things have changed. This… is not the same world we left. We all can see it, I can feel the raw power of Aegir again, you can feel Raiden again right?”

Rask pauses for Ca’armine to affirm.

“I have been focused on stopping the Dark Hand, stopping Bandesing, it’s why we joined this group. What if Bandesing doesn’t exist here Ca’armine? Did we defeat the Dark Hand by changing history? Is there a new enemy we don’t even know about?”

Rask is confused, uncertain and concerned, even vulnerable.

Vorgoth, Raiden, Bandesingh, and Shasharak

Posted on by
3

The Crimson Calling has arrived at their camp site east of Nodden-Torr, and the rangers are finalizing the details before camp is truly struck. Alexis has wrapped his winter blanket around him. He waits until the four others are near enough that he doesn’t have to raise his voice.

“Good job” Nodding at Gustav, Ca’armine, and Rask. “Before we settle in. A thought gnawing at me since the fire lake. At the time when I spoke with Vorgoth, I was just giving you all my best translations, but I was also distracted by listening to him. He said a few things that require reflection.”

A silver piece starts over his knuckles.

“I’d given him the name Bandesingh, and that he means to bring back Ath and put the world in darkness. He’d never heard of the man in his life.”

“He said: ‘Bandesingh. Another one who mistakes certainty for wisdom.'”

The coin walks.

“Then: ‘So. Shasharak has found another road. The dragon believed he would.'”

He lets that stand a moment.

“A few ways I can take ‘another road’.”

“One. Bandesingh is the road. Plain reading. I asked all of you a while back whether Bandesingh learned his trade from Shasharak or whether two men arrived at the same answer on their own. If Vorgoth’s right, that’s answered.” Alexis shugs as-if a mystery could be checked off his list.

“Two. Another road to a Tear, not to this Tear.” Alexis points to his belt pouch “Bandesingh has two. If what Shasharak wanted was one of these and not our particular one, he got it centuries ago, and we never really thwarted Shasharak.”

“Three. Another road to what he actually wanted, which was to be a god. The Tear in the time-vault was one way. He found a different one.”

“Four.” The coin stops. “‘The dragon believed he would.’ He planned for a man to go around him. Whatever he built in there, he built it knowing it would be walked past, and then he left it to five strangers seven hundred years (or longer) later.” A slight shrug, and a nod off to the side. “There’s a possibility that we were the arrangement the Dragon made for losing.”

He pockets the coin.

“But back to Vorgoth.”

“I handed him the name of Bandesingh, which he had never heard and two sentences about a man alive right now. He didn’t ask me a single question. He set him beside Shasharak on the spot.”

“Earlier in that conversation I’d said Raiden. He said, ‘You say Raiden, the last true king. I saw him once in the flames.'”

“Vorgoth has stood in that room since at least some time in the 2nd age. Raiden doesn’t rise until a minimum of one hundred and sixty years after that. He cannot have seen him. Not face-to-face.”

“So. He sees forward in that fire. Or standing outside of time he’s able to see time flow outside the time-vault, which would make that fire room a stranger place than we initially gathered.”

Alexis’ tone shifts to light-hearted, almost joking “Or he has simply met enough men like Bandesingh to know one by the smell.”

The coin starts walking his fingers again and Alexis looks at his companions for any possible insights they might have.

Still in There

Posted on by
1

The Crimson Calling walks east through the snow, away from what’s left of Nodden-Torr. The Tear sits in Alexis’s belt pouch and throws no shadow, and the light it gives is enough to walk by. Nobody has gotten used to it.

He turns the Collegium ring on his finger.

“Red.” He waits until Ethelred looks over. “I’ve been thinking about something.”

A few steps.

“Vorgoth held that bridge for centuries. Nobody crossed since the sky broke. I believe him.” He watches his breath in the cold air. “Six to eight people went in two years ago after the Tear. Never came out. No trace. Vorgoth never saw them enter and never saw them leave.” A beat. “Both true at the same time, in one place.”

Snow crunches for a while.

“Unless they weren’t in the same when.”

He lets that sit.

“The Dragon built that vault to last. And it did last, for hundreds of years, maybe more than a thousand. That’s an extraordinary working. Impossible to imagine it holding that long from just the power of the Dragon, even how powerful he clearly was.” He glances at Ethelred. “But the Tear was sitting at the center of it the whole time. A greater artifact of a very old god. That’s a different kind of engine entirely. The vault wasn’t running on what the Dragon put into it. It was running on the Tear.”

A few more steps.

“And the dungeon below, that was different. We saw a working down there that had gone wrong, maybe from the group that came through two years before us. Something they touched that they shouldn’t have. But up in the tower, no two parties ever overlapped. No interference.” He turns the ring once.

He looks over at Ethelred.

“Which means we didn’t take the Tear out of a vault. We took it out of history. Right now, as we’re walking, Nodden-Torr behind us has always been a place where the Tear was removed at the end of the second age.” A pause. “The world we’re walking back into is not quite the world we left.”

He thinks briefly of Sutheron. Keeps walking.

“And the Dragon. He wasn’t fading because the vault was losing him. He was fading because we were taking the Tear. Every step we made toward it, the engine was winding down. By the time we claimed it, the vault had already started becoming a place where the Tear had never been.” He nods, mostly to himself. “He knew. He was pushing us toward it and out at the same time.”

A dozen steps.

“But here’s what I keep turning over.” He reaches up, touches the brim of his hat briefly. “Hadonis is back in our timeline right now, and to him the Tear is still in that vault. The six to eight who went in before us, Hadonis said they made it to the Tear. Vorgoth said nobody passed him. Both true.” He pauses. “Which means they’re not in the vault and they’re not in our when either. They’re somewhere else entirely, holding a Tear of their own.”

He looks down at his belt pouch.

“The vault still exists. It will keep existing until someone unwinds what the Dragon built and puts the timeline back in order. Whether that’s a problem or a gift, I genuinely don’t know. The Tear is doing its work in more than one when at the same time.” He shakes his head slightly. “That’s above my pay. Nardor Threpp could sort it. We have other work.”

He looks at Ethelred.

“Is there more I’m not seeing?”