Rel
Liquid Awesome
Cathal said:
Got distracted by the wife.
Plus, this ran a bit longer than I thought it would:
“Could they be headed for the Fodor lands?” wondered Lazarius aloud.
“If they are then they’re far more stupid than they’ve acted so far,” said Cathal. “Not only does it make no sense to build such a fleet of ships when they only need to walk down out of the mountains, but they are bringing a much larger army than they’d need to defeat my people. Another thousand like they sent last winter would do easily given how many men we lost.”
Marcus’ face darkened, “They’re headed for the Empire. It’s the only other place that makes sense.”
Speaks shook his head, “But why attack the Empire? They’re no threat to the City of Endless Summer. Nobody is a threat to the City. So why strike at the only country that is capable of mounting an army capable of defending against a force as large as theirs?”
Marcus knew. “Revenge. The Empire contains everyone who joined forces to bring down Bane. And now they’re going to try and break him free of his prison. And what would make him happier than to have those who brought him low in the first place come under attack by his worshipers?”
Recognition crept into Speaks’ face. “You’re right. The Druids, the church of St. Cuthbert, the church of Pelor, all are based in the Empire. In fact all three have risen to prominence in part because they helped defeat Bane three centuries ago.”
“Well they’re going to get a hell of a fight!” Lazarius’ eyes burned. “I’ve been assigned to the Legions and know those in charge of the Imperial War College. They are a powerful force and no army of Orcs is going to pose much of a threat to the might of the Empire. Our big problem will be the same as the Slave War. We’ll have to watch closely to make sure the Sythians don’t take advantage and try to hit us while we’re distracted!”
Speaks’ brow was furrowed in concentration. “Perhaps. But having faced the Banelar before, they are a cunning enemy. I don’t think they’d be launching this attack if they didn’t think they’d succeed.”
Marcus stood from where they sat. “What is important right now is that we’re the only people in the world who know what is headed toward the Empire. We’ve got to make sure that we get back there to warn them. That means surviving the night. I’ll take first watch.” He walked away as the others continued their speculation even as they spread out their bedrolls in a rough circle around the statue of Marius.
Marcus walked to the cart track that ran down the long tunnel back toward the City and stood astride it. He focused his attention in that direction and stood still to quiet his armor, listening for any sign of an enemy approach. He was still standing there some two hours later when Cathal came to relieve him of his watch.
“I won’t sleep long,” he told the Brigante. He never did. The magical ring, bequeathed to him by the Church, kept him ever fed, never thirsty, briefly tired. “I only need a couple hours and I’ll be back to aid you in your watch. We should let the others sleep to rest their minds and regain their magic.” Cathal nodded and took up a position crouched at the edge of the tunnel.
Marcus lay down and said a silent prayer to his god. ”Guide me, my lord, and let me bring warning to those who must hear my words to defend our Church against these coming invaders. Give me strength to stand against them and to again defeat the enemy who you once saved our world from. And let me stand guardian before those innocents who this enemy would cut down for the sake of revenge.” Then he slept. But he did not rest.
A door stood before him. He could not tell if it was a plain door or an ornate door, iron or wood because it did not matter. It only mattered that there was a door and that he needed to pass through it. Since it was needed, he did it.
Beyond was a hallway and beyond that was a room full of light. The hallway was of no consequence and then he was in the room.
In the room was a light who was a woman and she was what mattered. She looked at him and if she had been a woman, she would have said, “I see you have come.” But she was not a woman, only a light in the shape of a woman. And so she did not greet him because it was not needed.
“Evil descends up our world. You will stand against this evil because you have the power and the will to do so. How and where you shall stand against it will be something you shall decide later. What you will be when you stand against it is something that you shall decide here, tonight, in this place that is no place at all. Do you understand?”
But he did not. There was so much that he did not understand but was afraid to ask but needed to know. And because he needed it she gave it without him asking.
In the beginning, the planes were populated by entities of unfathomable power. One of these entities, who came to be known in time as Osirion, called into creation a place where chaos was tamed and objects and creatures took on a less mutable form: The Prime Material Plane. There he began to whimsically create objects of beauty like stars and planets and comets. He toyed with these creations to pass the eons and soon became aware that some of them were developing in ways that he had not foreseen.
On one of his little spheres, creatures had formed and begun to differentiate into various races. Osirion watched in interest. Time passed and these races began to produce some truly unique individuals. Some of these individuals managed to find ways to transcend the Prime Material Plane and become independent of its rules and confines. They tapped the powers of the multiverse and became gods. They could come and go as they pleased and work their will on the world.
As they became more numerous, the desires of these gods would often clash and there was sometimes open warfare between them. The devastation wrought upon the world was legendary. Whole tribes of humanoids or villages of demi-humans were wiped out by the direct power of the gods. Sometimes the gods themselves would clash and the world would be ripped asunder, barely able to recover. Civilizations would rise only to be smashed back into dark ages when gods would collide above them.
Not wishing to see his beautiful creation destroyed before his very eyes, Osirion gathered the gods together and offered them a pact: If they would vow never to directly intervene in the affairs of the Prime Material Plane, he would give up his own power and imbue them with it. This power was that of true immortality. They accepted his offer and Osirion vanished and his power became that of the gods.
The gods were of course not content to stand by and refrain from meddling in the affairs of the world. They quickly divided into three camps and began crafting realms of their own. The gods of Good created Celestia and the Celestials. The gods of Evil created Hell and the Demons and Devils that inhabited it. The gods of Neutrality created the dream world populated by Spirits. These agents of the gods could be sent to do their bidding in the material world. But this was not without a cost.
The gods had unwittingly crafted these servants in such a way that they required Essence. Essence came in the form of whatever power had formed them (Good, Evil or Neutrality). The gods found that they themselves produced this Essence slowly but there was another way to get it. When the races of the world worshipped them and made sacrifices to them, it produced Essence. The gods quickly set about making rules for their worshipers designed to produce the largest amount of Essence. Those who obeyed these rules most closely were rewarded as the gods had their Servants grant them powers to use in the service of their gods.
It did not take long before the various temples discovered that one way to forward their god’s plans (and thwart those of his enemies) was to attack the worshippers of other gods directly. Various “Holy Wars” have been part of the different religions ever since.
One such Holy War of importance was the one against the worshippers of Bane that took place some 300 years ago. His faithful had begun to corrupt the worshippers of other temples and they were figuring out ways to siphon off some of the Essence dedicated to the other gods and channel it to Bane. When this was discovered, those who worshipped the gods in question were enraged. They called for a Holy War against Bane and it was widely taken up. His worshippers were hunted down and slain and his temples were torn down stone by stone.
Bane could see that his supply of Essence was suddenly threatened when he had just been so close to domination. Driven to rage, he violated the pact that the gods had forged thousands of years before: He exerted his power directly upon the Prime Material Plane.
He cunningly forged a refuge for his followers in such a way that they could gather and plot and plan, beyond the reach of the minions of the other gods. He crafted this sanctuary in a place that would come to be known as The City of Endless Summer.
The other gods banded together to exact retribution for this transgression. Bane was smote down by St. Cuthbert and a tomb was crafted in the deepest depths of Hell. It seems an odd place to imprison a god of Evil, but it was feared that any other place would be tainted by the presence of his Tomb. It was fashioned to be impervious to the Essence so that Bane could not use his influence to barter with the Demons and Devils of Hell. Being selfish creatures themselves, they saw no need to come to his aid now that he had nothing with which to reward them.
That left the City of Endless Summer as the last bastion of the faithful to Bane. His power had rendered it impervious to attempts to see or travel into it with magic. It was located in the most remote of locations where the weather conditions were most harsh so that it was exceedingly unlikely to be discovered. The Servants of the other gods held little sway in a land so blackened by hate. And so the City has remained undiscovered for three centuries. Until now.
Now Bane’s faithful have burst from their hiding and are loose upon the world. Worse yet, thousands of his worshipers were slain and their souls dedicated to one of the Devil Lords of Hell in exchange for his minions destroying the Tomb of Bane. If he is set free, he will be weak. But he will be free. What he will attempt then, we cannot guess. Our battle against him may be long. And that is what brings us to your choice about who you will be.
All of this entered his knowledge as easily as water pouring into a cup, not instantly, but quickly and smoothly. And as he finished knowing it he saw to either side of the woman who was a light, a stand. Atop the stand to the left was a shield. Atop the stand to the right was a mace. Each item was as brilliant and bright as the purest silver, the mithral of the Dwarven mines of the east.
“Will you be the Protector or the Destroyer?”
He became aware of his answer more quickly than he would have thought himself capable of. “I am the Protector.”
The light in the shape of a woman nodded, not to grant him his desire, for he had become who he would be at the moment he had made the choice, but to acknowledge it. He nodded back and at that moment knew that what needed to happen while he was here was done and he turned to go back up the hallway that did not matter and through the door that did. As he turned, she said something that she wanted to but did not need to.
“You will have to choose again someday. You must decide who will suffer more: The people of your mother or those of your father.”
He stopped but did not turn back. And he only pondered that decision for a moment, not because it was easily made or already done, but because it did not need to happen yet.
hallway
Door.
“Marcus? Did you want to get up and join me on watch?” Cathal gripped him gently by the shoulder, speaking softly in the still air of the Foundry.
Marcus sat up, blinking in confusion. “Yes.” Shaking his head slightly and still reeling from the Vision, he reached to begin donning his armor.
“What happened to your shield?” asked Cathal.
It shone like the most brilliant silver mirror ever polished. Like it was filled with light.
