seasong's Light Against The Dark II (May 13)
- Thread starter seasong
- Start date
seasong
First Post
I'm sick today, so I may not get much written, but I wanted at least this teaser up. Hopefully I'll be able to put down the actual conversation later this morning, when I wake up again 
.
Edit: Typo.
Belial
The orcs plaguing Aglaonis' southern valley were some five hundred strong, one of the weak tribes being driven west by tribes like Breaking Cat. Greppa might have felt sorry for them were he not in dire need of action.
He flew high overhead, dropping balls of fire and shrieking blasts of cold on the scraggly groups who looked inclined to fight, and then chased them to the edge of the forest, a look of grim death on his face.
Afterward, however, he still wasn't... satisfied. Grumbling at a world where a man couldn't take out his frustrations on the enemy, he retired to his room at the inn. He'd very nearly fallen asleep when there was a knock at the door.
From his bed, he yelled at the door, "Yeah? What?"
"I would speak with you." The voice was a rich, chocolate bass, rumbling through the door frame and rolling around the corners of the room. It wasn't loud exactly, but it was powerfully present... and the accent, Greppa could not identify, but spoke of ancient lands and black forests.
Greppa was at the door faster than one might imagine, given his reputation for short legs.
The speaker turned out to be.... Greppa wasn't sure. Not human. Skin that belonged on an arab girl, impossibly smooth and the color of creamed coffee, was stretched over six feet of perfectly proportioned and muscled male. His eyes were black and deep, with almost no whites, his hair was a mass of black ringlets framing his face, and... a pair of wings, black feathered and folded into layers around his shoulders, sprouted from his back.
A choker necklace of square, black iron plates was taut around his neck, and a matching belt held up a loincloth. A pair of black iron bands covered his forearms from elbow to wrist. But other than the unmarked and plain dress... his presence seemed to fill the room.
The entity just stood there, for a moment, studying Greppa as Greppa studied him, then, "I would speak with you about your role in the conflicts yet to come. May I come in?"
Silently, mouth slightly open, Greppa widened the door and let Him in.
.Edit: Typo.
Belial
The orcs plaguing Aglaonis' southern valley were some five hundred strong, one of the weak tribes being driven west by tribes like Breaking Cat. Greppa might have felt sorry for them were he not in dire need of action.
He flew high overhead, dropping balls of fire and shrieking blasts of cold on the scraggly groups who looked inclined to fight, and then chased them to the edge of the forest, a look of grim death on his face.
Afterward, however, he still wasn't... satisfied. Grumbling at a world where a man couldn't take out his frustrations on the enemy, he retired to his room at the inn. He'd very nearly fallen asleep when there was a knock at the door.
From his bed, he yelled at the door, "Yeah? What?"
"I would speak with you." The voice was a rich, chocolate bass, rumbling through the door frame and rolling around the corners of the room. It wasn't loud exactly, but it was powerfully present... and the accent, Greppa could not identify, but spoke of ancient lands and black forests.
Greppa was at the door faster than one might imagine, given his reputation for short legs.
The speaker turned out to be.... Greppa wasn't sure. Not human. Skin that belonged on an arab girl, impossibly smooth and the color of creamed coffee, was stretched over six feet of perfectly proportioned and muscled male. His eyes were black and deep, with almost no whites, his hair was a mass of black ringlets framing his face, and... a pair of wings, black feathered and folded into layers around his shoulders, sprouted from his back.
A choker necklace of square, black iron plates was taut around his neck, and a matching belt held up a loincloth. A pair of black iron bands covered his forearms from elbow to wrist. But other than the unmarked and plain dress... his presence seemed to fill the room.
The entity just stood there, for a moment, studying Greppa as Greppa studied him, then, "I would speak with you about your role in the conflicts yet to come. May I come in?"
Silently, mouth slightly open, Greppa widened the door and let Him in.
Last edited:
Indigo Veil
First Post
Oh. My. God.
<looks over at Hank and giggles>
<insert cheap and bad synths> Bao-shicka-bao-bao!
*I* would say, "No, Greppa! Stay back! He's evil, and you're going to fall right into his large, long-fingered, strong, competent hands!" ...except that I'm still in ECA mode. <laugh> At least Belial doesn't have an English accent.
Anyway, *very* nice. Can't wait to see what happens next. =^.^=
<looks over at Hank and giggles>
<insert cheap and bad synths> Bao-shicka-bao-bao!
*I* would say, "No, Greppa! Stay back! He's evil, and you're going to fall right into his large, long-fingered, strong, competent hands!" ...except that I'm still in ECA mode. <laugh> At least Belial doesn't have an English accent.
Anyway, *very* nice. Can't wait to see what happens next. =^.^=
seasong
First Post
Okay, couldn't sleep, so here's the post. This will probably be the last narrative post this week. I was sick all weekend, so we didn't manage any gaming 
. I'm still planning some Academia posts, of course .
Note: For those who haven't picked up on it, Greppa is homosexual, and homosexuality is considered reasonably normal by the society he lives in. Just thought I'd give some advance warning for those who missed it previously
.
Edit: Forgot about Belial making a map for Greppa.
Belial
Belial began the conversation, his oddly accented bass flowing through Greppa like a particularly heady vintage, "I will be blunt. There is conflict coming, and we would prefer that you were on our side, rather than Allas'. That is my long term goal. My immediate goal is merely to open a channel of communication with you, in the hopes that, over the long term, this will help persuade you of our cause."
The entity paused, his eyes on some distant point, "Regardless, I wanted you aware of the end goal, so that we could discuss things more openly and freely."
Greppa, his brain slowly kicking into deal-with-extraplanar-creatures mode, managed to make his mouth move, "Your side? Allas' side? What do you mean?"
The creature smiled, showing perfect teeth around sensuous lips, "Right now you serve Allas. In the coming conflict, you will likely continue to do so. We would prefer that you served us."
Suspiciously, "And who is 'we', exactly?"
Again, the smile, "For now, 'I' am 'we'. I am a creature of the infernal pits... but not all who are there belong there, nor were all who were cast down deserving of their fate. In the grander sense, 'we' is those who I am allied with, but for now, you need only deal with me; there will be time later to consider your position with the others."
Greppa frowned. The gorgeous creature in front of him had answered, technically, but the terms were pretty vague... he shelved the question for the moment, "What do you want?"
"For now, merely an open line of communication. I would not ask that you do anything to jeopardize your current relationship with Allas, until you have decided to do so of your own will, and knwoing the full consequences and benefits."
Again, he paused to look into the distance, "I have things to make known to you, and questions to ask. I would discuss with you the nature of your role with Allas. If you will agree to further discussion in the future, and so long as I feel speaking with you is fruitful to my goals, that is all I want."
Then, a sly, sideways look at Greppa, "I seek to win you over to our side. So long as I make some progress towards that, I am willing to be... helpful."
Greppa thought furiously, and the entity waited patiently and silently. Greppa kept his eyes turned away - no use getting distracted - and thought, thought, THOUGHT.
The creature resembled a deva, but with black wings and an avowed infernal nature. It still had not given him a name. Quickly, he marshalled all he knew of the infernal hierarchy, and went through it, but nothing quite matched up to this elegant being. Most of the infernals Greppa knew of where hideous monsters, at least in.. the... texts. Texts of Allas, naturally - who else wrote as much about the infernal realms? They were the primary source of information about such things in Theralis.
The divinity section of Hurath's library, to which Greppa had recently added some slender books on archons, consisted mostly of Allas' authority books. Some scribed by Thelanna, the ellini priestess Greppa sometimes dealt with.
More on a hunch than anything, he finally nodded his head, "I will agree to further discussion, so long as such discussion does not directly jeopardize my relationship with Allas, and does not require me to do anything other than chat."
The winged man smiled, eyes aglint with some humor, "That is acceptable." And with that, he casually reached and plucked a feather from his right wing, "Put this in a fire if you have questions for me. It is not a summoning or conjuring - it merely tells me you wish to speak with me, and I will handle getting here. When I wish to speak with you, of course, I shall approach you privately, as I have done so here."
The smile got bigger, "Now, I shall share first, and then I shall ask, if that order is acceptable to you."
Greppa nodded.
The creature waved his hands at the back wall of the room. It was a negligent gesture, and Greppa got the feeling that most of the effort lay in making it look like he was making any effort at all. And as he did so, the wall seemed to fall away into nothingness, and Greppa gasped... he was looking over the land as if from a great height, and he recognized the Theralis valleys.
The creature spoke, and the land shrank, allowing an ever wider view, "This is where your city-state lies. Here" and small, dark flames danced where he pointed, "lies Aglaonis, and ancient Kithios, and here, among the northern lands, lies Tuoma. Here" and he pointed far to the east, "Lies the uggrahd, from which the buhkenahk tribe drives the other tribes west."
For a moment, it almost didn't sink in. When it did, Greppa was suddenly alert. Very alert. As he calculated distance and direction, and memorized as many features of the landscape as he could, "Would you... focus in, on that part?"
Even as he asked, he was pulling out paper and quill, and sketching a hasty map of as much as he could see.
The creature smiled, as one might to an apt pupil, and snapped his fingers. Black fire began burning along the paper, leaving a dusting of fine ink traceries... a near perfect map of what they were seeing. Greppa just stared at the map before looking back up.
The map swiftly flew in. A lone mountain, surrounded by valley, towered over all others. Even from above, it was obviously an immense mountain. Greppa's voice turned a bit sharp, "So you know why they are driving the other tribes?"
"I do. But that is not the important question - they drive the tribes because they themselves are driven. As they are pushed to expand, other tribes must move. As Theralis is pushed to war, the history of the future begins to take shape." He looked at Greppa sidelong, "Eventually, Allas will direct you to fight them. She will not necessarily want you to survive."
Greppa disregarded the creature's propoganda, "Okay, then, the important question, is it 'who is driving the buhkenahk'? Or am I missing something?"
"Do you think your birthmark is coincidence? Or that Allas is the only one with scions? The gods heft themselves to conflict, and set mortal pieces to the fight. Allas has chosen a small number of you to this task, but so have the other gods, and not all of those servants are among the Theralese, as you know already."
Greppa, his mind running through conversations with Thelanna, with Athan, and all of the secrets at the edges of those conversations, felt a light dawning inside. It was not Allas' wholesome light, either, but a sickening realization. "The gods drive the orcs."
It was not a question, but the infernal beauty took it as one, "Yes. And Allas drives Theralis. There are others, elsewhere, who also participate."
"So why are you telling me this?"
"If you know only what Allas chooses to tell you, you will remain Allas' servant. There is no question of this. If I provide you with that information she chooses not to provide you, there is a chance you may choose a different path."
Inwardly, Greppa frowned. It was so true as to be painful, and he resented the narrow path of information Allas had provided thus far. "So who are the gods driving the orcs?"
"We are not yet to the point where I feel it is in my best interests to tell you. But Allas may."
Greppa raised an eyebrow, "So you're not giving me the complete story, either."
"No. I am not. What I do tell you, you may be assured is truth. What I withhold, you may be assured I will be honest about my withholding. And much of what I withhold, I do so only to retain something to dole out later - if I gave you everything now, you would have no further reason to speak with me."
Greppa, like quicksilver, changed topics, "What about the eye tyrants... we saw them, up north and down south. What can you tell me about them?"
"Only that they are there. They have their own purpose, one we might discuss later."
The creature smiled again, "So, it is my turn. You have some of the basic facts. You understand what I seek, and have some inkling of why I think you might choose us over Allas. But, at the moment, there are reasons you will not do so, and reasons you might have for staying with Allas. I would know what the obstacles are, in the spirit of our open discussion, so that I can see what compromises or actions might be possible to get around them."
Greppa already had the answer. An experienced dealer and contract maker (as all arcanists must be, at some level), he fired back, "I don't know who you are or why I should trust anything you say. I don't want to lose Uripedas. And I don't know what I can gain for Theralis."
Again, that beatific smile, and Greppa resolved to find ways to bring it out more often. "For who I am, I am called Belial. You may find me..." and the map swiftly shifted, to show Theralis and then Tuoma, "here, in Tuoma. My tale is not yet lost there." And as he spoke, the vision swept into the city itself, a line of black fire marking the streets to the library, and then even closer, until Greppa could see the front of the library, and the people lounging outside in discussion. The vision closed in, then passed through the doors, then paused, sweeping back and forth for a moment, before centering on a tome, "And this book has the clearest account. By my standards, naturally."
"For Uripedas... I believe I can safely say he is more loyal to you than you give him credit for. He will not abandon you because you choose a different path than Allas - he cares little for politics." The latter was spoken with what seemed, momentarily, to be almost personal knowledge, and Greppa was about to ask for clarification when the next words stole most of his brain power.
"And as for Theralis, we can provide you with equivalents, strong equivalents, to all that you now possess. Where you have spells of light, you shall have spells of darkness; where you speak with lantern archons, you shall speak with those fallen. But merely substituting is a poor offer, at best. And while Allas has more resources than we in a general sense, we are more willing to provide those resources to those who serve us. We offer what you have... and extend that, where ever possible."
Greppa swallowed. Swallowed again. He couldn't afford to drool in front of Belial - he was in delicate negotiations. Hastily, he said, "I see. I will consider your offer. I need to, uh... check out your story at Tuoma, first."
Belial nodded, "Then I shall take my leave, and we shall speak later, when you are ready."
And with that, he stood up again, muscles stretching in leonine fashion, and Greppa slipped. "Gods, you're gorgeous."
Inwardly, he got suddenly cold. He had not meant to say that. It had simply slipped out. As his irises narrowed to pinpricks, Belial took it in stride, as a matter of course, a simple stated fact from one equal to another, "Know that there are many... considerations... when mortals and my kind interact. Until we are on stronger ground as regards my longterm goals, I shall have to ignore your statement."
And with that, the creature stepped from the room. Greppa, ears burning, waited five minutes, and then ran to pound on Merideth's door. He had to tell someone, and he knew he could trust her with it.
. I'm still planning some Academia posts, of course .Note: For those who haven't picked up on it, Greppa is homosexual, and homosexuality is considered reasonably normal by the society he lives in. Just thought I'd give some advance warning for those who missed it previously
.Edit: Forgot about Belial making a map for Greppa.
Belial
Belial began the conversation, his oddly accented bass flowing through Greppa like a particularly heady vintage, "I will be blunt. There is conflict coming, and we would prefer that you were on our side, rather than Allas'. That is my long term goal. My immediate goal is merely to open a channel of communication with you, in the hopes that, over the long term, this will help persuade you of our cause."
The entity paused, his eyes on some distant point, "Regardless, I wanted you aware of the end goal, so that we could discuss things more openly and freely."
Greppa, his brain slowly kicking into deal-with-extraplanar-creatures mode, managed to make his mouth move, "Your side? Allas' side? What do you mean?"
The creature smiled, showing perfect teeth around sensuous lips, "Right now you serve Allas. In the coming conflict, you will likely continue to do so. We would prefer that you served us."
Suspiciously, "And who is 'we', exactly?"
Again, the smile, "For now, 'I' am 'we'. I am a creature of the infernal pits... but not all who are there belong there, nor were all who were cast down deserving of their fate. In the grander sense, 'we' is those who I am allied with, but for now, you need only deal with me; there will be time later to consider your position with the others."
Greppa frowned. The gorgeous creature in front of him had answered, technically, but the terms were pretty vague... he shelved the question for the moment, "What do you want?"
"For now, merely an open line of communication. I would not ask that you do anything to jeopardize your current relationship with Allas, until you have decided to do so of your own will, and knwoing the full consequences and benefits."
Again, he paused to look into the distance, "I have things to make known to you, and questions to ask. I would discuss with you the nature of your role with Allas. If you will agree to further discussion in the future, and so long as I feel speaking with you is fruitful to my goals, that is all I want."
Then, a sly, sideways look at Greppa, "I seek to win you over to our side. So long as I make some progress towards that, I am willing to be... helpful."
Greppa thought furiously, and the entity waited patiently and silently. Greppa kept his eyes turned away - no use getting distracted - and thought, thought, THOUGHT.
The creature resembled a deva, but with black wings and an avowed infernal nature. It still had not given him a name. Quickly, he marshalled all he knew of the infernal hierarchy, and went through it, but nothing quite matched up to this elegant being. Most of the infernals Greppa knew of where hideous monsters, at least in.. the... texts. Texts of Allas, naturally - who else wrote as much about the infernal realms? They were the primary source of information about such things in Theralis.
The divinity section of Hurath's library, to which Greppa had recently added some slender books on archons, consisted mostly of Allas' authority books. Some scribed by Thelanna, the ellini priestess Greppa sometimes dealt with.
More on a hunch than anything, he finally nodded his head, "I will agree to further discussion, so long as such discussion does not directly jeopardize my relationship with Allas, and does not require me to do anything other than chat."
The winged man smiled, eyes aglint with some humor, "That is acceptable." And with that, he casually reached and plucked a feather from his right wing, "Put this in a fire if you have questions for me. It is not a summoning or conjuring - it merely tells me you wish to speak with me, and I will handle getting here. When I wish to speak with you, of course, I shall approach you privately, as I have done so here."
The smile got bigger, "Now, I shall share first, and then I shall ask, if that order is acceptable to you."
Greppa nodded.
The creature waved his hands at the back wall of the room. It was a negligent gesture, and Greppa got the feeling that most of the effort lay in making it look like he was making any effort at all. And as he did so, the wall seemed to fall away into nothingness, and Greppa gasped... he was looking over the land as if from a great height, and he recognized the Theralis valleys.
The creature spoke, and the land shrank, allowing an ever wider view, "This is where your city-state lies. Here" and small, dark flames danced where he pointed, "lies Aglaonis, and ancient Kithios, and here, among the northern lands, lies Tuoma. Here" and he pointed far to the east, "Lies the uggrahd, from which the buhkenahk tribe drives the other tribes west."
For a moment, it almost didn't sink in. When it did, Greppa was suddenly alert. Very alert. As he calculated distance and direction, and memorized as many features of the landscape as he could, "Would you... focus in, on that part?"
Even as he asked, he was pulling out paper and quill, and sketching a hasty map of as much as he could see.
The creature smiled, as one might to an apt pupil, and snapped his fingers. Black fire began burning along the paper, leaving a dusting of fine ink traceries... a near perfect map of what they were seeing. Greppa just stared at the map before looking back up.
The map swiftly flew in. A lone mountain, surrounded by valley, towered over all others. Even from above, it was obviously an immense mountain. Greppa's voice turned a bit sharp, "So you know why they are driving the other tribes?"
"I do. But that is not the important question - they drive the tribes because they themselves are driven. As they are pushed to expand, other tribes must move. As Theralis is pushed to war, the history of the future begins to take shape." He looked at Greppa sidelong, "Eventually, Allas will direct you to fight them. She will not necessarily want you to survive."
Greppa disregarded the creature's propoganda, "Okay, then, the important question, is it 'who is driving the buhkenahk'? Or am I missing something?"
"Do you think your birthmark is coincidence? Or that Allas is the only one with scions? The gods heft themselves to conflict, and set mortal pieces to the fight. Allas has chosen a small number of you to this task, but so have the other gods, and not all of those servants are among the Theralese, as you know already."
Greppa, his mind running through conversations with Thelanna, with Athan, and all of the secrets at the edges of those conversations, felt a light dawning inside. It was not Allas' wholesome light, either, but a sickening realization. "The gods drive the orcs."
It was not a question, but the infernal beauty took it as one, "Yes. And Allas drives Theralis. There are others, elsewhere, who also participate."
"So why are you telling me this?"
"If you know only what Allas chooses to tell you, you will remain Allas' servant. There is no question of this. If I provide you with that information she chooses not to provide you, there is a chance you may choose a different path."
Inwardly, Greppa frowned. It was so true as to be painful, and he resented the narrow path of information Allas had provided thus far. "So who are the gods driving the orcs?"
"We are not yet to the point where I feel it is in my best interests to tell you. But Allas may."
Greppa raised an eyebrow, "So you're not giving me the complete story, either."
"No. I am not. What I do tell you, you may be assured is truth. What I withhold, you may be assured I will be honest about my withholding. And much of what I withhold, I do so only to retain something to dole out later - if I gave you everything now, you would have no further reason to speak with me."
Greppa, like quicksilver, changed topics, "What about the eye tyrants... we saw them, up north and down south. What can you tell me about them?"
"Only that they are there. They have their own purpose, one we might discuss later."
The creature smiled again, "So, it is my turn. You have some of the basic facts. You understand what I seek, and have some inkling of why I think you might choose us over Allas. But, at the moment, there are reasons you will not do so, and reasons you might have for staying with Allas. I would know what the obstacles are, in the spirit of our open discussion, so that I can see what compromises or actions might be possible to get around them."
Greppa already had the answer. An experienced dealer and contract maker (as all arcanists must be, at some level), he fired back, "I don't know who you are or why I should trust anything you say. I don't want to lose Uripedas. And I don't know what I can gain for Theralis."
Again, that beatific smile, and Greppa resolved to find ways to bring it out more often. "For who I am, I am called Belial. You may find me..." and the map swiftly shifted, to show Theralis and then Tuoma, "here, in Tuoma. My tale is not yet lost there." And as he spoke, the vision swept into the city itself, a line of black fire marking the streets to the library, and then even closer, until Greppa could see the front of the library, and the people lounging outside in discussion. The vision closed in, then passed through the doors, then paused, sweeping back and forth for a moment, before centering on a tome, "And this book has the clearest account. By my standards, naturally."
"For Uripedas... I believe I can safely say he is more loyal to you than you give him credit for. He will not abandon you because you choose a different path than Allas - he cares little for politics." The latter was spoken with what seemed, momentarily, to be almost personal knowledge, and Greppa was about to ask for clarification when the next words stole most of his brain power.
"And as for Theralis, we can provide you with equivalents, strong equivalents, to all that you now possess. Where you have spells of light, you shall have spells of darkness; where you speak with lantern archons, you shall speak with those fallen. But merely substituting is a poor offer, at best. And while Allas has more resources than we in a general sense, we are more willing to provide those resources to those who serve us. We offer what you have... and extend that, where ever possible."
Greppa swallowed. Swallowed again. He couldn't afford to drool in front of Belial - he was in delicate negotiations. Hastily, he said, "I see. I will consider your offer. I need to, uh... check out your story at Tuoma, first."
Belial nodded, "Then I shall take my leave, and we shall speak later, when you are ready."
And with that, he stood up again, muscles stretching in leonine fashion, and Greppa slipped. "Gods, you're gorgeous."
Inwardly, he got suddenly cold. He had not meant to say that. It had simply slipped out. As his irises narrowed to pinpricks, Belial took it in stride, as a matter of course, a simple stated fact from one equal to another, "Know that there are many... considerations... when mortals and my kind interact. Until we are on stronger ground as regards my longterm goals, I shall have to ignore your statement."
And with that, the creature stepped from the room. Greppa, ears burning, waited five minutes, and then ran to pound on Merideth's door. He had to tell someone, and he knew he could trust her with it.
Last edited:
dave_o
Explorer
YES! Belial is SO COOL! ^_^
But, coolness aside - don't do it Greppa! The forces of darkness are notorious for their temptation!
I think all the bets on who's going to fall to the dark side just got shifted around a considerable amount. Unless, of course, Merideth demands to see Belial herself. Hmm. HMM.
TANKS FOR TEH POST, SEASONG!
But, coolness aside - don't do it Greppa! The forces of darkness are notorious for their temptation!
I think all the bets on who's going to fall to the dark side just got shifted around a considerable amount. Unless, of course, Merideth demands to see Belial herself. Hmm. HMM.
TANKS FOR TEH POST, SEASONG!
Indigo Veil
First Post
I think all the bets on who's going to fall to the dark side just got shifted around a considerable amount. Unless, of course, Merideth demands to see Belial herself. Hmm. HMM.
Merideth might well demand to see him. I, however, have always had my money on Greppa falling to the dark side. ^o^
I know, Hank, that I warned you in an earlier post to keep Greppa away from such temptations, but c'mon, falling into those oh-so-capable hands is going to undoubtedly be oh-so-delicious. =*.*=
B'sides, I've got money riding on you, and Mama needs a new pair of (fetish, black leather, high-stiletto-heeled, platform-soled, laced-up-to-the-thigh) shoes.
Mmmm, bootses. ^_^
seasong
First Post
But he sounds so reasonable, and his price, so low!dave_o said:
Don't forget that Merideth is already stalking the dark side in her own way (*cough*eye tyrants*cough*)I think all the bets on who's going to fall to the dark side just got shifted around a considerable amount. Unless, of course, Merideth demands to see Belial herself. Hmm. HMM.
.Teaser: I forgot a vignette I was planning to do this week. Maybe tomorrow or Wednesday. Title is "The Return of Akeros".
Note to my players - that vignette is really REALLY OOC knowledge. Heh heh. But then, so is everything with Akeros.
Greppa of Tartwater
First Post
You know what's REALLY wrong?
The morality of the issue is cloudy too. If Allas and her ilk are behind the orc drive then they are directly responsible for the deaths of thousands of people...people from Theralis. If Belial is right, and they are responsible for this, then, well let's just say that Greppa is loyal to Theralis and not Allas.
As for the temptation of "darkness," Thomas inadvertently summed up the cosmic poop we're about to bumble into when we were talking.
Thomas: "Well it is a game called Light against the Dark".
Hank: "It doesn't seem like right against wrong."
Thomas: "Yes."
Of course, he didn't elaborate.
The morality of the issue is cloudy too. If Allas and her ilk are behind the orc drive then they are directly responsible for the deaths of thousands of people...people from Theralis. If Belial is right, and they are responsible for this, then, well let's just say that Greppa is loyal to Theralis and not Allas.
As for the temptation of "darkness," Thomas inadvertently summed up the cosmic poop we're about to bumble into when we were talking.
Thomas: "Well it is a game called Light against the Dark".
Hank: "It doesn't seem like right against wrong."
Thomas: "Yes."
Of course, he didn't elaborate.
seasong
First Post
Akeros' Passing
Vignette: The Return of Akeros
Fifty Years Ago
The celestial fabric trembled. Half-heard threats and words rolled through its very structure. The gods were angry, primarily with each other, and their passions warped and shook the firmament. Immortal servants scurried like unguided ants. Conflict was coming among the celestial planes.
Each of the gods, secure in their own dominion, foresaw this, and set about preparing for it. A decade is a trivial thing to the gods, and the first blows had not yet been struck. And as strength flows from mortals, so must preparations for war. Small families were guided to form. Children worthy of bearing the child of a God were born, and the gods watched them grow.
When the time came, small bits of divine essence streaked down from the heavens. Priests were prepared with visions and coincidence. The first children were born, marked by a god, and were guided into the professions where they could have the most impact. The gods needed things to happen in certain ways. They needed dominance and strength among mortals. They needed power. And for that, they needed mortal Servants to represent them.
The strategies varied from god to god, as they always do. Allas sprinkled small amounts of talent and beauty and sun-kissed ellini into the populations. She cared for them, and developed them into heroes. People who love the heroes of Allas, love Allas.
Hethas took a different tack. She created only two, and she carefully crafted their lives. One of those was a boy who called himself Akeros, who murdered for his people and learned to love it.
Today
North of Theralis and Aglaonis, there is a cave to Hethas' domain. It is the nekromanteia, the gate of the dead. A mystery cult guards it against those who would enter its depths unguided, and defends it against those who believe it should be destroyed. They are among the most skilled fighters and priests of Hethas in the world, lacking fear of any living thing.
Death stalked them, and they became afraid.
The first sign was a priestess, young and still in training, who disappeared during her meditations in the shallower tunnels. It was not unheard of to lose initiates, but when her body was found scattered about the deepest altar, a worried frown creased some of the elder priests' brows. When an elder priest disappeared and his body showed up in the same fashion, worry became terror.
Over the weeks, it haunted them. What, they knew not. But it moved silently, passing from shadow to shadow like a wraith but immune to the strongest commands over the dead. Other than its shadow, only its eyes were ever seen, glittering dark, cobalt blue in the darkness. It killed every few days, always the same way, scattering the limbs and torso of the victim around the altar. As if it was not quite sure how to make a proper sacrifice, and so opting for sheer volume over propriety.
Some initiates even suggested taking a lantern down, to light the tunnels, before they were hushed by their elders.
Finally, the elders made a decision. It helped that three of them, among the strongest, had already died. They would help it make its sacrifices, and pray to Hethas that that was sufficient.
For three days, initiates were torn limb from bloody limb by the most ancient and primal of rituals, rituals that had not seen use in centuries, their methods only mentioned in dusty books of previous civilizations. On the third day, he showed up.
His skin as pale as ivory, his eyes darkest blue, his nails blackest talons. He was beautiful. He ripped apart the final initiate himself, following the ritual he'd watched for three days, and finally spoke.
"I require clothing. And weapons."
These were hastily acquired and presented. When he had bathed, and clothed himself, and armed himself with his choice of the treasures of the deep, he nodded in satisfaction.
"It is good. Hethas grant you life... and death."
A wave of anguish, spouting from the mouth of the river of pain, shook through the tunnels. Many died from the agony. More lived, but remembered the day for the remainder of their lives. Of the creature that had emerged from Hethas' dark realm, nothing more was known. He left thereafter, as the strong and the dead writhed on the floor.
Akeros had returned. He still had a mission to complete.
Vignette: The Return of Akeros
Fifty Years Ago
The celestial fabric trembled. Half-heard threats and words rolled through its very structure. The gods were angry, primarily with each other, and their passions warped and shook the firmament. Immortal servants scurried like unguided ants. Conflict was coming among the celestial planes.
Each of the gods, secure in their own dominion, foresaw this, and set about preparing for it. A decade is a trivial thing to the gods, and the first blows had not yet been struck. And as strength flows from mortals, so must preparations for war. Small families were guided to form. Children worthy of bearing the child of a God were born, and the gods watched them grow.
When the time came, small bits of divine essence streaked down from the heavens. Priests were prepared with visions and coincidence. The first children were born, marked by a god, and were guided into the professions where they could have the most impact. The gods needed things to happen in certain ways. They needed dominance and strength among mortals. They needed power. And for that, they needed mortal Servants to represent them.
The strategies varied from god to god, as they always do. Allas sprinkled small amounts of talent and beauty and sun-kissed ellini into the populations. She cared for them, and developed them into heroes. People who love the heroes of Allas, love Allas.
Hethas took a different tack. She created only two, and she carefully crafted their lives. One of those was a boy who called himself Akeros, who murdered for his people and learned to love it.
Today
North of Theralis and Aglaonis, there is a cave to Hethas' domain. It is the nekromanteia, the gate of the dead. A mystery cult guards it against those who would enter its depths unguided, and defends it against those who believe it should be destroyed. They are among the most skilled fighters and priests of Hethas in the world, lacking fear of any living thing.
Death stalked them, and they became afraid.
The first sign was a priestess, young and still in training, who disappeared during her meditations in the shallower tunnels. It was not unheard of to lose initiates, but when her body was found scattered about the deepest altar, a worried frown creased some of the elder priests' brows. When an elder priest disappeared and his body showed up in the same fashion, worry became terror.
Over the weeks, it haunted them. What, they knew not. But it moved silently, passing from shadow to shadow like a wraith but immune to the strongest commands over the dead. Other than its shadow, only its eyes were ever seen, glittering dark, cobalt blue in the darkness. It killed every few days, always the same way, scattering the limbs and torso of the victim around the altar. As if it was not quite sure how to make a proper sacrifice, and so opting for sheer volume over propriety.
Some initiates even suggested taking a lantern down, to light the tunnels, before they were hushed by their elders.
Finally, the elders made a decision. It helped that three of them, among the strongest, had already died. They would help it make its sacrifices, and pray to Hethas that that was sufficient.
For three days, initiates were torn limb from bloody limb by the most ancient and primal of rituals, rituals that had not seen use in centuries, their methods only mentioned in dusty books of previous civilizations. On the third day, he showed up.
His skin as pale as ivory, his eyes darkest blue, his nails blackest talons. He was beautiful. He ripped apart the final initiate himself, following the ritual he'd watched for three days, and finally spoke.
"I require clothing. And weapons."
These were hastily acquired and presented. When he had bathed, and clothed himself, and armed himself with his choice of the treasures of the deep, he nodded in satisfaction.
"It is good. Hethas grant you life... and death."
A wave of anguish, spouting from the mouth of the river of pain, shook through the tunnels. Many died from the agony. More lived, but remembered the day for the remainder of their lives. Of the creature that had emerged from Hethas' dark realm, nothing more was known. He left thereafter, as the strong and the dead writhed on the floor.
Akeros had returned. He still had a mission to complete.
Similar Threads
