Eye of Profane Truth

[Rkhet]

"Here? This is... my retreat, that is all. A place to be away from the voices of mortals, who are ever so demanding of their gods. They call to me, asking for impossible things, day and night. It saddens me, but I cannot help them."

The man idly swishes his fishing rod around. Looking down into the water, you notice that the line ends in a hook, without bait. Shadowy fish-shaped things nibble at the hook, but their mouthes pass right through.

"Just as, I am afraid, I cannot help you. The power you seek is not mine to give. In return, I ask nothing of you."

 

[Albedo]

"Then why should I stay in this desolate place? If the power I seek isn't here, I shall have to venture elsewhere to find it." He's hiding something. This could be dangerous.

 

[Nephtys]

He speaks in quiet wrath, trembling slightly.
"You are a God, and yet you have no power. You created me, so why should I not destroy you? The children always devour their parents, that is the way of all life and the way of your death."

 

[Rkhet]

"Then why should I stay in this desolate place? If the power I seek isn't here, I shall have to venture elsewhere to find it." He's hiding something. This could be dangerous.

"A little patience, my child. I do not mean to keep you here; you are free to leave at any time. But it is not every day that you can have the counsel of a god; this you should not waste. Come. Have a seat."

"Sadly, my counsel is all that I can offer you, for now. I can feel the taint in you all, the pain, weighing down on your souls. It would be dangerous to burden you with anything more."

He speaks in quiet wrath, trembling slightly.
"You are a God, and yet you have no power. You created me, so why should I not destroy you? The children always devour their parents, that is the way of all life and the way of your death."

The Perfect looks to you with sadness in his eyes. "If I can heal you, I would. But I cannot. Just as you cannot hope to slay me. Can you kill the ocean? The sky? The sun? Calm your wrath. It has no place here."

 

[Nephtys]

The Perfect looks to you with sadness in his eyes. "If I can heal you, I would. But I cannot. Just as you cannot hope to slay me. Can you kill the ocean? The sky? The sun? Calm your wrath. It has no place here."

He looks once again out over the ocean, seeking something, but looks down in resignation.

"I can try... But I will not. Your death would remove my purpose. Your death would destroy me and I do not yet wish to cease to be. You may live, because this pain is my purpose."

 

[Pyrex]

Lessa looks from Rahkzan and the fisherman, wondering what karmic bond has caused them to adopt guises that are so similar

"Here? This is... my retreat, that is all."

"Not here by the water. Why are we here in this world, where everything is so cold and hard and gray? Why is there so much pain? Are we being punished?"

 

[silentspace]

Rhakzan, black ethergaunt assassin

Rhakzan sits on the wharf and studies the Perfect.

"Why have you created us? For what purpose?"

Even as he asks it, an answer seems to form in his mind, as if it were a distant, hazy memory.

"Naramyr Wrymslayer is preparing to bring death and devastation to the world, and you created us to stop him. These creatures, humans and humanoids, you wish them to live, and keep their lives on the material plane?"

"Naramyr Wyrmslayer, he was once a force of what humans call good in this world? But the Eye of Profane Truth has change him. What is the Eye? What power does it bestow to Wyrmslayer?"

 

[Nephtys]

Moreth looks at the Ethergaunt fisherman, speaking normally at first before sinking into a hypnotic chant, "Yes, yes. The Wyrmslayer... He is our true creator. I have looked upon the Eye and been blinded...
The power of the Eye is profane and profound, pernicious and proud, perverse and productive. It is the Mirror of Souls. The true corrupter, our true Lord. We bear His mark upon our souls, and it burns brighter than the first."

 

[Albedo]

Hmm...the Eye. I should restart my quest to gain access to it. If even a god can't grant me the perfection I desire, maybe it can. Cann looks around at the others. Maybe I should humor those who would call themselves my siblings awhile longer. After all, I am not perfect...yet. I may need their assistance. "Now, you want something from us. Speak, so we may perform your desire." The sooner we get started, the better.

 

[Rkhet]

Lessa looks from Rahkzan and the fisherman, wondering what karmic bond has caused them to adopt guises that are so similar

"Not here by the water. Why are we here in this world, where everything is so cold and hard and gray? Why is there so much pain? Are we being punished?"

"You have not noticed? This is not the mortal world. This is my demiplane."

"I suppose you would not recognize it. It used to be a much brighter place. And," he gestured at the fish-wraiths, "it used to have better fishing. "

"But divine energies are fickle while the Eye is open. In these troubled times, even a god must conserve his power."

He looks to you, notice that you are shivering. "This is temporary, but... there is no need to be cold, at least."

He touches you on the forehead, and warmth returns to your body. An inner glow infuses you, and even your sickness seem to subside a little. The energy is slowly dissipating even as it warms you, and you realize that it would not last.

Rhakzan sits on the wharf and studies the Perfect.

"Why have you created us? For what purpose?"

Even as he asks it, an answer seems to form in his mind, as if it were a distant, hazy memory.

"Naramyr Wrymslayer is preparing to bring death and devastation to the world, and you created us to stop him. These creatures, humans and humanoids, you wish them to live, and keep their lives on the material plane?"

"Naramyr Wyrmslayer, he was once a force of what humans call good in this world? But the Eye of Profane Truth has change him. What is the Eye? What power does it bestow to Wyrmslayer?"

"The Wyrmslayer... you speak the truth, or at least a fragment of it. Should he achieve his goal, a great number of souls will perish. But you must understand that in the greater scheme of things, even this means little."

He stares into the setting sun, and it seems that his mind has wandered far from here. "I have... wronged him, perhaps. And he seeks satisfaction. I will not tell you any more of this, for I do not wish to bias your judgment. His story is a popular one amongst mortals. If you wish to know it, you have but to ask them."

"As for the Eye: that knowledge is forbidden to you. I will tell you nothing more."

Moreth looks at the Ethergaunt fisherman, speaking normally at first before sinking into a hypnotic chant, "Yes, yes. The Wyrmslayer... He is our true creator. I have looked upon the Eye and been blinded...
The power of the Eye is profane and profound, pernicious and proud, perverse and productive. It is the Mirror of Souls. The true corrupter, our true Lord. We bear His mark upon our souls, and it burns brighter than the first."

The Perfect looks to you and frowns. He mutters under his breath, and you find that you recognize a few of the words:

"...I am the categorical imperative... the transcendental ideal... I am the greatest of deceivers, and the world my grandest illusion..."

He touches you on the forehead also. Your mind clears, and you are brought back firmly into reality.

Hmm...the Eye. I should restart my quest to gain access to it. If even a god can't grant me the perfection I desire, maybe it can. Cann looks around at the others. Maybe I should humor those who would call themselves my siblings awhile longer. After all, I am not perfect...yet. I may need their assistance. "Now, you want something from us. Speak, so we may perform your desire." The sooner we get started, the better.

"Want? I want the world to be returned to the way it was, uncorrupted. Can you deliver this?"

He shakes his head sadly. "No, of course not. Therefore I will not ask. You are my beloved creations, imperfect though you are. I will not press on you the impossible. Do not worry: the world will not end, either way."

The Perfect studies you for a moment, then looks away. "I have advice for you, but whether you heed it is a choice you will have to make: do not seek the Eye's power. It is useless and dangerous to you."

He stands up, looks at each of you in turn. "All things must come to an end. I have given my counsel, and soon I will transport you to the mortal realm. Live out the remainder of your days as you see fit."

"Any last questions before I do so?"